This is a modern-English version of The Great Lakes: The Vessels That Plough Them: Their Owners, Their Sailors, and Their Cargoes, Together with a Brief History of Our Inland Seas, originally written by Curwood, James Oliver.
It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling,
and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If
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The Fountain of the Great Lakes
The Fountain of the Great Lakes
Lorado Taft, Sculptor
Lorado Taft, Artist
The Great Lakes
The Vessels That Plough Them: Their Owners,
Their Sailors, and Their Cargoes
The Vessels That Plough Them: Their Owners,
Their Sailors, and Their Cargoes
Together with
A Brief History of Our Inland Seas
Together with
A Short History of Our Inland Seas
By
James Oliver Curwood
By
James Oliver Curwood
With 72 Illustrations and a Map
With 72 Illustrations and a Map
G. P. Putnam’s Sons
New York and London
The Knickerbocker Press
1909
G.P. Putnam's Sons
NYC and London
The Knickerbocker Press
1909
Copyright, 1909
BY
JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD
Copyright, 1909
BY
JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
The Knickerbocker Press, NYC
TO HIS
FATHER AND MOTHER
WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT AND FAITH IN HIM HAVE BEEN UNFAILING,
THE AUTHOR
AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATES THIS BOOK
TO HIS
Mom and Dad
WHOSE SUPPORT AND TRUST IN HIM HAVE NEVER WAVERED,
THE AUTHOR
AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATES THIS BOOK
In this volume, it has been my object to tell of the people and of the picturesque life of the Great Lakes, and to set before my readers actual facts about the cities, the commerce, and the future of the greatest fresh-water seas in the world. For some unaccountable reason, the Great Lakes, notwithstanding the fact that more than thirty million people live in the States bordering their shores, and in spite of the still more remarkable fact that they are doing more than anything else on the American continent for the commercial progress of the nation, have been almost entirely neglected by writers. To-day there are but few people who know that one of the three greatest ports and the largest fleet of freighters in the world are on these unsalted waters; and I mention the fact in this particular place simply to bring home to the casual reader how little is known by the public at large about our Inland Seas. For this reason, I have not dealt with any single side of Lake life, but have attempted to present as many phases of it as I could; and, for the same reason, I have added a brief historical account of the Lakes atvi the end of the book. It has been my desire, too, that these pages, from the beginning, should prove of especial value to those many thousands all over the world who are, or may in the future be, directly interested in the Lakes in a business way; and a great deal of attention has, therefore, been given to the commercial side of my subject—statistics and facts regarding Lake commerce, the opportunities of the present day, and a forecast of what the coming years hold in store for the men who have investments, or who plan to invest in business enterprises, on or about the Great Lakes.
In this book, I aim to share the stories of the people and the vibrant life around the Great Lakes, and to provide my readers with real facts about the cities, trade, and future of the largest freshwater lakes in the world. For some unknown reason, the Great Lakes, even though over thirty million people live in the states that border them, and despite their significant role in driving the commercial growth of the nation, have been largely overlooked by writers. Today, very few people realize that one of the three biggest ports and the largest fleet of cargo ships in the world are located on these non-salty waters. I mention this here to highlight how little the general public knows about our Inland Seas. Because of this, I haven’t focused on just one aspect of life by the Lakes, but I have tried to cover as many of its dimensions as possible. Additionally, I included a brief historical overview of the Lakes atvi at the end of the book. I also hope that these pages will be especially useful for the many thousands around the world who are, or may become, directly involved with the Lakes in a business capacity; therefore, I have placed significant emphasis on the commercial aspects of the subject—statistics and facts related to Lake commerce, current opportunities, and a look at what the future may hold for those with investments or who plan to invest in business ventures on or around the Great Lakes.
While dwelling upon the importance of the commercial life of the Inland Seas, I wish also to emphasise the fact that I have kept always in mind another large class of people who are keenly interested in my subject, though not from a commercial standpoint. The present volume is designed to interest this latter class by portraying another side of Lake life—the human side, the romance and the tragedy that have played their thrilling parts upon these waters; the wonders of their progress; the story of their ships, their men, their wars, for of all the pages in the history of the North American continent none are more thrilling, or more filled with the romantic and the picturesque, than those which tell the story of our fresh-water seas.
While reflecting on the significance of the commercial activities in the Inland Seas, I also want to highlight that I have always considered another large group of people who are deeply interested in my topic, although not from a commercial perspective. This volume aims to engage this latter group by showcasing another aspect of Lake life—the human element, the romance, and the tragedy that have played significant roles on these waters; the marvels of their development; the stories of their ships, their crews, their conflicts, because among all the chapters in the history of the North American continent, none are as exciting or filled with romance and beauty as those that recount the tale of our fresh-water seas.
In conclusion, I wish to say that I owe a great debt of gratitude to the scores of Lake “owners,” ship-builders,vii and captains who have aided me, in every way possible, in the preparation of this volume, and without whose personal co-operation the writing of it would have been impossible.
In conclusion, I want to express my deep gratitude to the many Lake “owners,” shipbuilders,vii and captains who have helped me in every way possible with the preparation of this book. Without their personal cooperation, writing it would have been impossible.
J. O. C.
J.O.C.
Detroit, Michigan, 1909.
Detroit, MI, 1909.
PAGE | ||
PART I | ||
THE SHIPS, THEIR OWNERS, THEIR SAILORS, AND THEIR CARGOES | ||
I— | Shipbuilding | 3 |
II— | What the Ships Transport—Ore | 25 |
III— | Other Cargoes on the Ships | 46 |
IV— | Passenger Traffic and Summer Vibes | 68 |
V— | The Love Story and Tragedy of the Inland Seas | 89 |
VI— | Buffalo and Duluth: the Beginning and the End of the Lakes | 113 |
VII— | A Journey on a Great Lakes Freighter | 137 |
PART II | ||
ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF THE LAKES | ||
I— | Origins and Early History | 159 |
II— | The Lakes Change Leaders | 175 |
III— | The War of 1812 and Its Aftermath | 194 |
Index | 223 |
Page | |
The Fountain of the Great Lakes | Frontispiece |
Lorado Taft, Sculptor. | |
The First Step in the Making of a Ship—Laying the “Keel Blocks” | 4 |
Second Step—Laying the Keel, or Bottom of the Ship, on the “Keel Blocks” | 6 |
The Growing Ship | 8 |
Vessel Almost Ready for Launching | 10 |
A Monster of Steel and Iron Ready to be Launched | 12 |
Weight 9,500,000 lbs. | |
The Launching | 14 |
The “Thomas F. Cole,” 11,200 Tons, Being Fitted with Engines and Boilers after her Launching | 16 |
The “Cole” is the largest ship on the Lakes. Length, 605 feet 5 inches. | |
Her First Trip—Off for the Ore Regions of the North | 18 |
This Shows Some of the 800,000 Rivets that Go to the Making of a 10,000-Ton Leviathan of the Inland Seas | 22 |
Ice-Bound. Thirty-two Boats Tied up in the Ice at the Soo | 26 |
From a Photograph by Lord & Thomas, Sault Ste. Marie, Mich. | |
A Network of Tracks Running through the Ore Lands | 28xii |
Captains of the Vessels of the American Steamship Company | 30 |
The “Montezuma” | 32 |
The largest wooden ship on fresh water being towed out of the Maumee River, Toledo. | |
A Coal Dock at Superior, Wisconsin | 34 |
The pile of coal is 1400 feet long and 30 feet high. | |
The Record Load Hauled by One Team out of the Michigan Woods, 20,000 Feet | 36 |
One Steam Shovel Keeps Three Locomotives and Trains Busy | 38 |
Steamers at a Modern Ore Unloading Plant at Conneaut | 40 |
The Main Slip in the Harbour of Conneaut | 42 |
Conneaut is the second largest ore-receiving port on the Lakes. | |
One of the Huge Open Pits of the Mesaba Range | 44 |
A Raft of Five Million Pulp Logs on the North Shore of Lake Michigan | 48 |
Scooping up Ore from the Mahoning Mine at Hibbing | 52 |
The largest open pit mine in the world. | |
A Mining Town on the Mesaba Range, where a Few Years ago the Deer and Bear Roamed Undisturbed | 54 |
Harbour View at Conneaut, Ohio, Showing Docks and Machinery | 56 |
A Steam Shovel at Work | 58 |
This removes from 4000 to 8000 tons of ore a day. | |
The Old and the New | 62xiii |
A modern freight carrier passing one of the old schooners. | |
A Shaft on One of the Ranges | 66 |
The “North West” | 68 |
One of the finest passenger steamers on the Great Lakes. | |
The Stop at Tashinoo Park, St. Clair Flats | 70 |
The Landing at Mackinac Dock, Michigan | 72 |
Hickory Island at the Mouth of Detroit River | 74 |
From a Photograph by Manning Studio, Detroit. | |
The “City of Erie” | 76 |
The fastest steamer on the Lakes, holding a record of 22.93 miles per hour. | |
Little Venice, St. Clair River | 80 |
Showing the type of “Inns,” where people may pass their holidays at small expense. Courtesy of Northern Steamship Co. | |
A Scene on Belle Isle, Detroit River | 82 |
Steamer “Western States” | 84 |
One of the largest and fastest boats on the Lakes. Carries 2500 people and her fastest speed is 20 miles an hour. From a Photograph by Detroit Photographic Co. | |
Steamship “North West” in American Lock | 86 |
Cottages Built at Small Expense along the St. Mary’s River | 88 |
A Steamer Stripped by a Tow-line by Running between a Steamer and her Consort | 90 |
From a Photograph by Lord & Rhoades, Sault Ste. Marie, Mich. | |
A Remarkable Photograph Showing the Big Freighter “Stimson” in a Holocaust of Smoke and Flame | 94 |
After a Fierce Night’s “Late Navigation” Run across Lake Superior | 96xiv |
A Ship that Made the Shore before she Sank. The Work of Raising her in Progress | 100 |
A Treacherous Sea in its Garb of Greatest Beauty | 102 |
One phase of Lake navigation. | |
A View of the “Zimmerman” | 104 |
After a collision with another freighter. | |
The Steamer “Wahcondah” | 108 |
One of the Lake grain carriers which was caught in a storm late in the season after being buffeted by the waves of Lake Superior for about fourteen hours. | |
This is One of the Most Remarkable Photographs Ever Taken on the Lakes. It Shows a Sinking Lumber Barge just as She Was Breaking in Two | 110 |
The photograph was taken from a small boat. | |
The Residence of Ansley Wilcox at Buffalo | 114 |
Where President Roosevelt took the oath of office. Copyright 1908 by Detroit Photographic Co. | |
A Bird’s-eye View of the Harbour of Duluth, Taken from the Hill | 116 |
From a Photograph by Maher, Duluth. | |
The Ship Canal and Aërial Bridge, Duluth, Minn. | 118 |
Copyright 1908 by Detroit Photographic Co. | |
Fleet of Boats in Duluth Harbour Waiting to Unload | 122 |
View Looking South-west from the New Chamber of Commerce Building, Buffalo | 124 |
Unloading at One of the Coal Docks at Duluth | 126 |
A Fleet of Erie Canal Boats—Capacity of Each 150 Tons | 128xv |
The boats on the new canal will be 1000 tons each. | |
The Jack-Knife Bridge at Buffalo | 132 |
A Scene on Blackwell Canal | 134 |
The winter home of big boats in Buffalo. | |
Some of the Grain Elevators at Duluth, which Have a Combined Storage Capacity of 35,550,000 Bushels | 136 |
The Mesaba Ore Docks | 138 |
From the Deck of the Ship the Tug Looks Like an Ant Dragging at a Huge Prey | 142 |
Observation Room on the “Wm. G. Mather” | 144 |
Which gives an idea of the luxuriousness of the guests’ quarters on a Great Lakes freighter. | |
The Luxurious Dining-room on the 10,000-Ton Steamer “J. H. Sheadle” | 146 |
Tugs Trying to Release Boats Held in the Ice at the Soo | 150 |
Copyright 1906 by Young, Lord & Rhoades, Ltd. | |
Whaleback Barges Preparing for Winter Quarters at Conneaut, Ohio | 152 |
(The Whaleback is a type of vessel that has been tried and found wanting. They are going out of use.) | |
Ashore | 154 |
Arch Rock, Mackinac Island | 160 |
One of the natural wonders of the world. | |
Fort Mackinac | 168 |
Marquette’s Grave, St. Ignace, Michigan | 174xvi |
Monument at Put-in-Bay in Memory of the British and Americans who Died in the Battle of Lake Erie | 182 |
Old West Blockhouse, Fort Mackinac | 186 |
Built by the British, about 1780. | |
The Monument Erected to those who Fought and Died on Mackinac Island | 190 |
Mackinac Island, Showing Old Fort Mackinac | 194 |
Once the Scene of Bloodshed and Strife, these Old Trees Stand where French, Indian, and British Fought Years ago | 200 |
A View of the Historic Battle-ground on Mackinac Island | 206 |
An Old British Gunboat Discovered in the River Thames | 212 |
Scene when Admiral Dewey Passed through the Soo Locks | 216 |
Map | At End |
Not long ago, I was on a Lake freighter pounding her way up Huron on the “thousand-mile highway” that leads to Duluth. Beside me was a man who had climbed from poverty to millions. He was riding in his own ship. His interests burned ten thousand tons of coal a year. He was one of the ore kings of the North—as rough as the iron he dug, filled to the brim with enthusiasm and animal energy of the Lake breed; a man who had helped to make the Lakes what they are, as scores of others like him have done. Before and behind us there trailed the smoke of a dozen of the steel leviathans of the Inland Seas. I had asked him a question, and there was the fire of a great pride in his eyes when he answered.
Not long ago, I was on a Great Lakes freighter making its way up Lake Huron on the “thousand-mile highway” that leads to Duluth. Next to me was a man who had risen from poverty to wealth. He was riding in his own ship. His interests consumed ten thousand tons of coal a year. He was one of the ore kings of the North—tough as the iron he mined, filled to the brim with enthusiasm and the raw energy of the Lakes; a man who had helped shape the Lakes into what they are today, just like many others like him. Ahead and behind us, the smoke from a dozen of the massive steel vessels of the Inland Seas trailed. I had asked him a question, and there was a fire of great pride in his eyes when he answered.
“It would make a nation by itself—this Lake country!” he said. “And it would be America. It’s America from Buffalo to Duluth, every inch of it, and the people who are in it are Americans. That’s American smoke you see off there, and American ships are making it; they’re run by a thousand or4 more American captains, and they’re Americans fore ’n’ aft, too. We’ve got only eight States along the Lakes, but if we should secede to-morrow the world would find us the heart and power of the nation. That’s how American we are!”
“It could be a nation all on its own—this Lake country!” he said. “And it would be America. It’s America from Buffalo to Duluth, every bit of it, and the people living here are Americans. That’s American smoke you see over there, and American ships are producing it; they’re operated by a thousand or4 more American captains, and they’re Americans through and through, too. We only have eight States along the Lakes, but if we were to secede tomorrow, the world would recognize us as the heart and strength of the nation. That’s how American we are!”
This is the patriotism one finds in the Lake country, from the roaring furnaces of the East to the vast ore beds of Minnesota. It is representative of the spirit that rules the Inland Seas; it is this spirit that has built an empire, and is building a vaster empire to-day, along the edges of the world’s greatest fresh-water highways.
This is the patriotism you see in the Lake country, from the roaring furnaces in the East to the massive ore deposits in Minnesota. It represents the spirit that governs the Inland Seas; it’s this spirit that has created an empire and is currently building an even bigger one along the shores of the world's greatest fresh-water highways.

With more than thirty-four millions of people living in the States bordering on them, possessing one third of the total tonnage of North America, and saving to the people of the United States five hundred million dollars each year, or six dollars for every man, woman, and child in the country, one of the most inexplainable mysteries of the century exists in the fact that the Great Lakes of to-day are as little known to the vast majority of Americans as they were a quarter of a century ago. While revolutions have been working in almost all lines of industry, while States have been made and cities born, America’s great Inland Seas have remained unwatched and unknown except by a comparative few. Upon them have grown the greatest industries of the nation, yet the national ignorance concerning them can hardly find a parallel in history. Were they to5 disappear to-morrow the industrial supremacy of the republic would receive a blow from which it could never recover. The steel industry, as a dominant commercial factor, would almost cease to exist. One half of the total population of the country would be seriously affected, and America would fall far behind in the commercial race of the nations.
With over thirty-four million people living in the states that border them, accounting for one-third of the total tonnage in North America and saving the people of the United States five hundred million dollars each year—about six dollars for every man, woman, and child—it's one of the most puzzling mysteries of the century that the Great Lakes today are as little known to most Americans as they were twenty-five years ago. While revolutions have taken place in almost every industry, with states being created and cities emerging, America's great Inland Seas have remained overlooked and unrecognized by all but a few. The greatest industries of the nation have developed around them, yet the national ignorance about them is almost unmatched in history. If they were to5disappear tomorrow, the industrial dominance of the republic would suffer a blow from which it could never recover. The steel industry, a key commercial player, would nearly vanish. Half of the total population of the country would be significantly impacted, and America would fall far behind in the global commercial competition.
Notwithstanding these things, not one person in ten knows what the Great Lakes stand for to-day. While a thousand writers have sung of the greatness and romance of the watery wastes that encircle continents, none has told of those “vast unsalted seas” which mean more to eighty-five millions of Americans than any one of the five oceans. What has been written has been for those who find their commerce upon them; for the owners of ships and the masters of men; for the kings of ore and grain—a little statistical matter here and a little there, but nothing for the millions who are not at hand to feel the pulse of traffic or to see the great commercial pageant as it passes before their eyes. Even of those who live in the States bordering the Great Lakes but few know that these fresh-water highways of traffic possess the greatest shipping port in the world, that upon them floats the largest single fleet of freighters in existence, that in their great construction yards shipbuilding has been reduced to a science as nowhere else on earth, and that in their life the elements of romance and tragedy6 play their parts even as on the big oceans that divide hemispheres.
Despite all of this, only one in ten people understands what the Great Lakes mean today. While countless writers have celebrated the greatness and allure of the vast waters that surround continents, none have highlighted those “vast unsalted seas” that are more significant to eighty-five million Americans than any of the five oceans. What has been written caters to those involved in commerce; for ship owners and captains, for the leaders of minerals and grains—just a bit of statistical data here and there, but nothing for the millions who can't feel the hustle of traffic or witness the grand commercial spectacle as it unfolds before them. Even among those who live in the states bordering the Great Lakes, few realize that these fresh-water trade routes have the largest shipping port in the world, that they host the largest single fleet of cargo ships on the planet, that in their massive shipyards, shipbuilding has become a science unlike anywhere else, and that amidst it all, elements of romance and tragedy6 play out just as they do on the vast oceans separating continents.
In a small way the general lack of knowledge of the Great Lakes is excusable, for their development has been so rapid and so stupendous that people have not yet grasped its significance. Within the last quarter of a century or less they have become the industrial magnets of the nation. Along their shores have sprung up our greatest cities, with populations increasing more rapidly than those of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, or San Francisco. In the eight States which have ports on them is more than one third of the total population of the North American continent. Along their three thousand three hundred and eighty-five miles of United States shore line will be built this year more than one half of the tonnage constructed in America, and over their highways will travel at least six times as much freight as all the nations of the world carried through the Suez Canal in 1908.
In a small way, the general lack of knowledge about the Great Lakes is understandable, as their development has been so fast and impressive that people haven't fully grasped its importance yet. In less than the last twenty-five years, they have become the industrial powerhouses of the nation. Our largest cities have emerged along their shores, with populations growing faster than those in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, or San Francisco. The eight states with ports on the Great Lakes hold more than one third of the total population of the North American continent. Along their three thousand three hundred and eighty-five miles of U.S. coastline, more than half of the tonnage produced in America will be built this year, and at least six times more freight will travel along their routes than all the nations in the world carried through the Suez Canal in 1908.
Just what this means it is hard for one to conceive when told only in figures. Perhaps in no better way can the immensity and importance of their traffic be described than by showing briefly one of the ways in which they earned a “dividend” of six dollars for every person living in the United States in 1907. This immense “dividend” did not go into the coffers of corporations, but actually, though indirectly, into the pockets of the people.
Just what this means is hard to wrap your head around when it's just numbers. Maybe the best way to convey the size and significance of their business is to briefly illustrate one of the ways they made a “dividend” of six dollars for every person living in the United States in 1907. This massive “dividend” didn’t end up in corporate bank accounts, but actually, even if indirectly, made its way into the pockets of the people.

7 It is only fair to the Lakes and the vast interests upon them to use the figures of 1907 instead of those of 1908. In the following pages it is the author’s intention to paint conditions as they actually exist upon our Inland Seas under normal conditions. During 1908, the financial depression that swept over the entire country produced conditions upon the Lakes which, in the author’s opinion, will not be seen again for a great many years to come. “Panic figures” give a wrong impression. Those of 1908 would show a falling off of business in various branches of Lake traffic of from twenty to sixty per cent. As one of the best known vessel-men in Duluth said to me recently, “We can count that the Lakes have lost just one year of progress because of the panic.” In other words, it is highly probable that the business of the Lakes will in this year of 1909 be just about what it should have been under normal conditions in 1908, and there are many who believe that within the next two years the loss of the “panic year” will be more than discounted.
7 It's only fair to the Lakes and the wide range of interests connected to them to use the data from 1907 instead of 1908. In the following pages, the author aims to describe the conditions as they truly exist on our Inland Seas under normal conditions. In 1908, the financial downturn that affected the entire country created circumstances on the Lakes that, in the author's view, won’t be seen again for many years. “Panic figures” give a misleading impression. Those from 1908 would show a decline in business across various sectors of Lake traffic by anywhere from twenty to sixty percent. As one of the well-known vessel operators in Duluth recently told me, “We can count that the Lakes have lost just one year of progress because of the panic.” In other words, it's very likely that the business on the Lakes this year, 1909, will be roughly what it should have been under normal conditions in 1908, and many believe that within the next two years, the losses from the “panic year” will be more than made up for.
For this reason, in order to show how the Lakes earn their tremendous dividend for the people of the United States, we use the figures of 1907, when traffic was normal. In that year, for instance, it cost a little over ten cents to ship a bushel of grain from Chicago to New York by rail, and only five and one half cents by way of the Lakes and the Erie Canal. This saving on transportation of five cents a bushel8 is divided between the producing farmer and the consuming public. It is a “nickel on which no trust can place its hands”—and this nickel, when multiplied by the number of bushels of grain produced in Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Michigan, reaches the stupendous figure of ninety-eight million dollars! In the matter of iron ore the saving is still greater. Were it not for this saving all steel necessities, from rails to common kitchen forks, would advance tremendously in price, and the United States would not be able to control the steel markets of the world. To-day you can ship a ton of ore from Duluth to Ashtabula, Conneaut, or Cleveland, a distance of nearly one thousand miles, for less than you can send by rail that same ton from one of these ports to Pittsburg, a distance of only one hundred and thirty miles. In other words, while it costs about eighty cents to send a ton of ore from the vast ranges of the North to an Erie port by ship, the rail rate is seven times greater, which means that the vessels of the Great Lakes saved in 1907 on ore alone no less than one hundred and seventy-three million dollars!
For this reason, to illustrate how the Lakes generate their significant benefits for the people of the United States, we refer to the figures from 1907, when traffic was typical. That year, for example, it cost just over ten cents to ship a bushel of grain from Chicago to New York by rail, whereas it only cost five and a half cents through the Lakes and the Erie Canal. This five-cent transportation saving per bushel8 is shared between the farmer who produces it and the public who consumes it. It’s a “nickel that no trust can lay claim to”—and when multiplied by the number of bushels produced in Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Michigan, it totals an astonishing ninety-eight million dollars! The savings for iron ore are even greater. Without these savings, the price of all steel products, from rails to ordinary kitchen forks, would skyrocket, and the United States wouldn’t be able to dominate the global steel markets. Today, you can ship a ton of ore from Duluth to Ashtabula, Conneaut, or Cleveland, a distance of nearly one thousand miles, for less than it costs to send that same ton by rail from one of these ports to Pittsburgh, which is only one hundred and thirty miles away. In other words, while it costs about eighty cents to ship a ton of ore from the vast northern ranges to an Erie port by ship, the rail rate is seven times higher, which means that the vessels of the Great Lakes saved a whopping one hundred and seventy-three million dollars on ore alone in 1907!

In another way than in this annual saving in cost of transportation are the Lakes fighting a great and almost unappreciated battle for the people. They are to-day the country’s greatest safeguard against excessive railroad charges. They are the governors of the nation’s internal commerce, and will be for all time to come. There is not a State north of the Ohio9 River and east of the Rocky Mountains which is not affected by their cheap transportation, and the day is not distant when hundreds of millions of bushels of grain raised in the Canadian west will go to the seaboard by way of the lake and canal route. At the present time there are about two hundred and forty thousand miles of railroad in the United States, constructed and equipped at a cost of more than thirteen billion dollars; yet, on the basis of ton miles, the traffic on the Lakes will in 1909 be one sixth as great as on all the roads in the country.
In a different way than just the annual savings in transportation costs, the Lakes are fighting a significant and often overlooked battle for the people. They are now the country’s most important defense against excessive railroad charges. They regulate the nation’s internal commerce and will continue to do so indefinitely. Every state north of the Ohio9 River and east of the Rocky Mountains benefits from their affordable transportation. It's not far off when hundreds of millions of bushels of grain from the Canadian West will be shipped to the coast via the lake and canal route. Currently, there are about two hundred and forty thousand miles of railroad in the United States, built and equipped at an expense of over thirteen billion dollars; yet, based on ton miles, the traffic on the Lakes will be one sixth the size of all the rail traffic in the country in 1909.
These facts are given here to show in a small way the gigantic part the Great Lakes are playing to-day in the industrial progress of the nation. Yet, as paradoxical as it may seem, the nation itself has hardly recognised the truth. The “helping” hand that the Government has reached out has been pathetically weak. In history to come it must be recorded that great men—men of brain and brawn and courage—have “built up” the Lakes, and not the Government. And these men, scores and hundreds of them, are continuing the work to-day. Since the dawn of independence to the present time, the United States has expended for all harbours and waterways on the Great Lakes above the Niagara Falls less than ninety million dollars, yet each year this same Government hands out one hundred and forty million dollars to the army and navy and one hundred and twenty-seven million dollars to the postal service! In the face of this is the astonishing10 fact that, in 1907, the saving in freight rates on Lake Superior commerce alone exceeded by a million dollars the total sum expended by the Government on the Inland Seas since the day the first ship was launched upon them!
These facts are presented here to illustrate the significant role the Great Lakes currently play in the industrial growth of the nation. Yet, paradoxically, the nation itself has hardly acknowledged this reality. The "helping" hand that the Government has extended has been surprisingly weak. Future history will note that great individuals—people of intelligence, strength, and bravery—have "built up" the Lakes, not the Government. And these individuals, dozens and hundreds of them, are continuing the work today. Since the beginning of independence up to now, the United States has spent less than ninety million dollars on all harbors and waterways on the Great Lakes above Niagara Falls, while each year the same Government allocates one hundred and forty million dollars to the army and navy and one hundred and twenty-seven million dollars to the postal service! In light of this, it’s astounding10 that, in 1907, the savings in freight rates on Lake Superior commerce alone surpassed by a million dollars the total amount the Government has spent on the Inland Seas since the first ship was launched upon them!
In this building of the “greater empire” of the Lake country there is now no rest. Wherever ships are built the stocks are filled. From the uttermost end of Erie to the shipyards of the north—in Buffalo, Lorain, Cleveland, Toledo, Detroit, West Superior, Chicago, and Manitowoc—the making of American ships is being rushed as never before. In the larger yards powerful arc-light systems allow of work by night as well as by day. The roaring of forges, the hammering of steel, the tumult of labouring men, and the rumbling of giant cranes are seldom stilled. With almost magical quickness a ten-thousand-ton monster of steel rises on the stocks—and is gone. Another takes its place, and even as they follow one another into the sea, racing to fill demands, there still comes the cry: “Ships—ships—we want more ships!”
In this construction of the “greater empire” in the Lake region, there is no rest. Wherever ships are built, the stocks are overflowing. From the farthest end of Erie to the shipyards up north—in Buffalo, Lorain, Cleveland, Toledo, Detroit, West Superior, Chicago, and Manitowoc—the production of American ships is being accelerated like never before. In the larger yards, powerful arc lights enable work to continue both day and night. The roar of forges, the clang of steel, the chaos of hard-working men, and the rumble of giant cranes are rarely quiet. With almost magical speed, a ten-thousand-ton steel behemoth rises on the stocks—and then it’s gone. Another one takes its place, and as they follow one another into the sea, racing to meet demand, the call still echoes: “Ships—ships—we need more ships!”

In the year 1908, it is estimated that very nearly three fifths of the total ship tonnage built in the United States was constructed in these busy yards of the Great Lakes. As early as January they were choked with orders for 1908 delivery, and even that early a number of them had orders running well into 1909. A brief glance at the vessel construction of the Lakes during the six years up to and including11 1907 will give a good idea of the rapid growth of this industry along the Inland Seas. In 1902, the product was forty-two vessels, thirty-two of them being bulk freighters. In 1903, forty-two of the fifty vessels built were bulk freight steamers, with a carrying capacity of 213,250 tons. In 1904, the output was only thirteen vessels, but in 1905 twenty-nine bulk freighters with a carrying capacity of 260,000 tons were built. In 1906, there were turned out from the Great Lakes yards forty-seven vessels, of which forty were bulk freighters, and in 1907, the total was fifty-six vessels, including forty bulk freighters, three package freighters, and one passenger steamer. The early months of 1908 saw contracts in force for the construction of twenty-five bulk freighters for delivery before 1909.
In 1908, it’s estimated that nearly three-fifths of the total ship tonnage built in the United States was created in the busy yards of the Great Lakes. By January, they were overwhelmed with orders for delivery in 1908, and even then, several had orders extending well into 1909. A quick look at the shipbuilding in the Lakes over the six years leading up to and including11 1907 reveals the rapid expansion of this industry along the Inland Seas. In 1902, the total was forty-two vessels, with thirty-two of them being bulk freighters. In 1903, out of fifty vessels built, forty-two were bulk freight steamers with a capacity of 213,250 tons. In 1904, the output dropped to just thirteen vessels, but in 1905, twenty-nine bulk freighters with a capacity of 260,000 tons were constructed. The year 1906 saw forty-seven vessels being built in the Great Lakes yards, with forty of them being bulk freighters. In 1907, the total increased to fifty-six vessels, which included forty bulk freighters, three package freighters, and one passenger steamer. In the early months of 1908, there were contracts in place for the construction of twenty-five bulk freighters to be delivered before 1909.
Taking the forty bulk freighters built in 1907, one gets a fair idea of the immensity of Lake traffic. They are but a drop in the bucket—a single year’s contribution to the great argosies of the Inland Seas; yet these forty ships have a carrying capacity of three hundred and sixty thousand tons. In other words, within four days after loading at Duluth they could be discharging this mountain of ore at Erie ports. To carry this same “cargo” by rail would require over three hundred trains of thirty cars each, or a single train seventy miles in length!
Taking the forty bulk freighters built in 1907, you can get a good sense of how massive Lake traffic is. They’re just a small part of the whole—a single year’s addition to the huge fleet of the Inland Seas; yet these forty ships can carry three hundred sixty thousand tons. In other words, just four days after loading in Duluth, they could be unloading this huge amount of ore at Erie ports. Transporting the same “cargo” by rail would need over three hundred trains with thirty cars each or one single train that’s seventy miles long!
But this is not particularly astonishing when one is studying the commerce of the Great Lakes. True,12 it represents considerably over a half of the tonnage built in the United States during 1907, but even at that it “isn’t much to shout about,” as one builder of ships said to me. These men of the Lakes never express surprise at the wonders of the Inland Seas. They are used to them. They meet with them every day of their lives. On either coast these same “wonders” would be made much of. But the Lake breed is not the breed that boasts—unless you drag opinions from them. Why, over in Cleveland there is one man who directs the destinies of twice as many ships as the forty-eight mentioned above—a single commercial navy that can move six hundred and forty-eight thousand tons of ore in one trip, or enough to “make up” a train of sixteen thousand two hundred cars, which train would be one hundred and twenty miles in length! This man’s name is Coulby—Harry Coulby, President and General Manager of the Pittsburg Steamship Company, Lake arm of the United States Steel Corporation. There was a time when Coulby was a poor mechanic, working his ten hours a day. Then he developed “talent” and went into a shipyard draughting-room. Now he is undeniably the king of Lake shipping. His word is law in the directing of more than a hundred vessels, the greatest fleet in the world; and it is law in other ways, for it is common talk in marine circles that he (with the trust behind him) is responsible for nearly every important move on the Great Lakes. He is the eye and the13 ear and the mouth of the trust, and it is the trust that practically fixes the ore rates for each season, and does other things of interest. If these ships of Coulby’s were placed end to end they would reach a distance of eight miles! During the eight months of Lake navigation they can transport as much freight over the “thousand-mile highway” as the combined fleets of all nations take through the Suez Canal in twelve! Yet who has heard of Coulby? How many know of the gigantic fleet he controls? A few thousand Lake people, and that is all. A magnificent illustration is this of the national ignorance concerning the Great Lakes.
But this isn’t particularly surprising when you look at the commerce of the Great Lakes. Sure, 12 it accounts for more than half of the tonnage built in the United States in 1907, but even so, “it isn’t much to shout about,” as one shipbuilder told me. The people of the Lakes are never amazed by the wonders of the Inland Seas. They see them every day. On either coast, these same “wonders” would be celebrated. But the people of the Lakes aren’t ones to brag—unless you press them for their opinions. Take the guy in Cleveland who oversees twice as many ships as the forty-eight mentioned above—a single commercial navy that can transport six hundred forty-eight thousand tons of ore in one trip, or enough to fill a train of sixteen thousand two hundred cars, which would stretch one hundred and twenty miles! This man is Coulby—Harry Coulby, President and General Manager of the Pittsburg Steamship Company, the Lake branch of the United States Steel Corporation. There was a time when Coulby was a struggling mechanic, working long hours. Then he discovered his “talent” and moved into a shipyard drafting room. Now he is undeniably the king of Lake shipping. His word is law in guiding over a hundred vessels, the largest fleet in the world; and it’s law in other ways, too, as it’s commonly said in marine circles that he (with the trust supporting him) is behind nearly every major decision on the Great Lakes. He is the eyes, ears, and voice of the trust, which essentially sets the ore rates for each season and manages other significant matters. If Coulby’s ships were lined up end to end, they would stretch eight miles! During the eight months of Lake navigation, they can move as much freight over the “thousand-mile highway” as all the fleets of every nation combined transport through the Suez Canal in twelve months! Yet who knows about Coulby? How many are aware of the massive fleet he controls? A few thousand people from the Lakes, and that’s it. This is a perfect example of the national ignorance surrounding the Great Lakes.

A Monster of Steel and Iron Ready to be Launched.
A Monster of Steel and Iron Ready to Be Launched.
Weight 9,500,000 lbs.
Weight 9.5 million lbs.
And Coulby is only one of many. The fleet he controls is only one of many. The Lakes breed great men—and they breed great fleets. How many of our millions have heard of J. C. Gilchrist and the Gilchrist fleet?—a man in one way unique in the marine history of the world, and a fleet which, if plying between New York and Liverpool, would be one of the present-day sensations. Gilchrist, like Coulby, “worked up from the depths,” and to-day, as the head of the Gilchrist Transportation Company, he holds down seventy-five distinct jobs! Seventy-five owners have placed seventy-five ships under his generalship, and from each he receives a salary of one thousand dollars a season, or a total of seventy-five thousand dollars. He is one of the Napoleons of the Lakes. He handles ships and men like a magician; his holds are never14 empty; his dividends are always large. There was a day when one thousand dollars looked like a fortune to Gilchrist, and when eight dollars a week was an income of which he was mightily proud. That was when, from away down in Michigan, he turned his face northward toward the Lakes, filled with big ambition and a desire for adventure, but with little more than what he carried on his back. He got work as a sailor before the mast at forty dollars a month and board. From there he graduated to “bell hop” on a passenger steamer, and continued to graduate until the owners of great ships began to see in him those things which they themselves did not possess, and so handed over to him the destiny of the second greatest fleet of freight carriers in the world.
And Coulby is just one of many. The fleet he manages is just one of many. The Lakes produce great leaders—and they produce great fleets. How many of our millions have heard of J. C. Gilchrist and the Gilchrist fleet?—a man who is uniquely significant in the history of maritime trade, and a fleet that, if operating between New York and Liverpool, would be one of today's major attractions. Gilchrist, like Coulby, “worked his way up from nothing,” and now, as the head of the Gilchrist Transportation Company, he juggles seventy-five different roles! Seventy-five owners have entrusted seventy-five ships to his leadership, and from each, he earns a salary of one thousand dollars a season, totaling seventy-five thousand dollars. He is one of the titans of the Lakes. He manages ships and crews like a pro; his holds are never empty; his profits are always substantial. There was a time when a thousand dollars felt like a fortune to Gilchrist, and when eight dollars a week was an income he took great pride in. That was when, deep in Michigan, he set his sights northward toward the Lakes, filled with big dreams and a thirst for adventure, but with little more than what he could carry. He started as a sailor at forty dollars a month with meals included. From there, he moved up to a “bellhop” on a passenger ship, and continued to advance until the owners of major ships recognized in him qualities they themselves lacked, ultimately entrusting him with the future of the second largest fleet of freight carriers in the world.
Such men as Coulby and Gilchrist and the ships they have would make the fame of any nation on the high seas. They and men like Captain John Mitchell, who is the head of a fleet of twenty ships, J. H. Sheadle, G. Ashley Tomlinson, and G. L. Douglas, are of the kind that are choking the Great Lakes shipyards with orders, while along the ocean seaboards stocks are rotting and builders of ocean marine are starving. Cleveland claims the headquarters of both of these immense fleets—and Cleveland is fortunate in many other things. She counts her strong men of the Lakes by the score. She is a great owner of ships, a great buyer of ships, and a great builder.
Men like Coulby and Gilchrist, along with their ships, would bring pride to any nation on the high seas. They, along with Captain John Mitchell, who leads a fleet of twenty ships, J. H. Sheadle, G. Ashley Tomlinson, and G. L. Douglas, are the type of people who are overwhelming the Great Lakes shipyards with orders, while along the ocean coastlines, inventory is going to waste, and shipbuilders for the ocean are struggling to get by. Cleveland claims to be the headquarters for both of these huge fleets—and Cleveland is fortunate in many other ways. She counts her strong men of the Lakes in large numbers. She is a major owner of ships, a significant buyer of ships, and a prominent builder.

But when it comes to the production of “bottoms,”15 Cleveland and all other Lake cities must give way to Detroit. There was a day when Detroit was one of the important ports of the Lakes, but that day is long past. Now she is the centre of shipbuilding. In 1907, there was built at Detroit more tonnage than in any other city in the United States. Of the vessels launched, twenty-one of the largest took their first dip in or very near Detroit. The tonnage of these vessels aggregated over one half of the total tonnage of the forty freighters constructed for the season’s delivery.
But when it comes to producing "bottoms,"15 Cleveland and all the other Lake cities have to step aside for Detroit. There was a time when Detroit was one of the major ports on the Great Lakes, but that time is long gone. Now, it’s the center of shipbuilding. In 1907, more tonnage was built in Detroit than in any other city in the United States. Of the vessels launched, twenty-one of the largest made their first trip into or very near Detroit. The total tonnage of these vessels accounted for over half of the total tonnage of the forty freighters built for that season's delivery.
It has been said that Detroit is a great shipbuilding city by accident, and there is a good deal of truth in the assertion. Six years ago the American Shipbuilding Company, the greatest trust of its kind in the world, held undisputed sway over the Lakes. It knew no competition. No combination of capital had dared to grapple with it. With eleven huge construction yards strung along the Lakes between Buffalo, Duluth, and Chicago, it held a monopoly of the shipbuilding industry. It was at this time that one of the country’s great industrial generals sprang up in Detroit. Then he was practically unknown; now as a leader and master of men, he is known in every city of this country where iron and steel are used. His name is Antonio C. Pessano. Detroit must always be proud of this man. He must count in the history of her future greatness, and always her citizens should be thankful that he and his indomitable courage did16 not first appear in Buffalo, Cleveland, or some other Lake city. Mr. Pessano’s ambition was to build at Detroit the most modern shipbuilding plant in the world. Some people laughed at him. Others pitied him. The trust twiddled its fingers, so to speak, and smiled. In the face of it all Mr. Pessano won the confidence of such Gibraltars of industrial finance as George H. Russel, Colonel Frank J. Hecker, Joseph Boyer, William G. Mather, Henry B. Ledyard, and others—won it to the extent of raising one million five hundred thousand dollars, with which he built the greatest shipbuilding yards on the Lakes and which have developed since then into the greatest in America, employing more than three thousand men.
It’s been said that Detroit became a major shipbuilding city by accident, and there’s a lot of truth to that. Six years ago, the American Shipbuilding Company, the largest trust of its kind in the world, dominated the Great Lakes. It faced no competition. No group of investors dared to challenge it. With eleven massive shipyards located along the Lakes between Buffalo, Duluth, and Chicago, it had a monopoly on the shipbuilding industry. It was during this time that one of the country’s great industrial leaders emerged in Detroit. Back then, he was virtually unknown; now, as a leader and master of men, he’s recognized in every city across the country where iron and steel are used. His name is Antonio C. Pessano. Detroit should always take pride in him. He will be a significant part of its future success, and the citizens should be grateful that his unstoppable spirit didn’t emerge in Buffalo, Cleveland, or another Lakes city. Mr. Pessano's goal was to build the most advanced shipbuilding plant in the world right in Detroit. Some people laughed at him. Others felt sorry for him. The trust just sat back and smiled. Despite it all, Mr. Pessano gained the trust of prominent figures in industrial finance like George H. Russel, Colonel Frank J. Hecker, Joseph Boyer, William G. Mather, Henry B. Ledyard, and others—enough to raise one million five hundred thousand dollars, which he used to build the largest shipbuilding yard on the Lakes. It has since grown into the biggest in America, employing over three thousand workers.
Mr. Pessano’s shipbuilding rival is the president of the trust. His name is Wallace, “son of Bob Wallace, the elder,” Lake men will tell you, for Robert Wallace, the father, was a shipbuilder himself for a great many years. He is very proud of his boy.
Mr. Pessano’s shipbuilding competitor is the president of the trust. His name is Wallace, “son of Bob Wallace, the elder,” Lake residents will tell you, because Robert Wallace, the father, was a shipbuilder himself for many years. He takes great pride in his son.
“I had three boys,” said he. “Two of ’em went to college, but Jim he wanted an education, so he didn’t take much stock in books, but got out among men. That was what made Jim!”
“I had three boys,” he said. “Two of them went to college, but Jim he wanted an education, so he didn’t put much value on books; instead, he got out among people. That’s what made Jim!”

The “Thomas F. Cole,” 11,200 Tons, Being Fitted with Engines and Boilers after her Launching.
The “Thomas F. Cole,” 11,200 tons, is currently being equipped with engines and boilers following its launch.
The “Cole” is the largest ship on the Lakes. Length, 605 feet 5 inches.
The “Cole” is the biggest ship on the Great Lakes. It's 605 feet 5 inches long.
To-day it is “Jim,” or James C. Wallace, of Cleveland, as he is better known, who is the champion shipbuilder of the world. He is President of the American Shipbuilding Company. Probably in no other part of the world is the romantic more largely associated with modern progress than on the Great Lakes, and in17 these two men—Wallace and Pessano—it is revealed in a singular way. Together they govern shipbuilding on the Inland Seas. Both of these great men began in the dinner-pail brigade. They worked in overalls and grease, not for “experience,” but because they had to; they pulled and heaved with common labourers; they rose, step by step, from the lowest ranks—and to-day, monuments to courage and ambition, they are the earth’s two greatest builders of ships. In a novel such characters would be declared almost impossible. But the Lakes breed such as these. There are others whose careers have been even more remarkable, and I will tell of these later—men whose rise from poverty to wealth and power rivals in romance and adventure the most glowing stories of the Goulds and Astors.
Today, it's “Jim,” or James C. Wallace, from Cleveland, as he’s better known, who is the world's leading shipbuilder. He is the President of the American Shipbuilding Company. There's probably no place in the world where romance is more tied to modern progress than on the Great Lakes, and in 17 these two men—Wallace and Pessano—showcase this in a unique way. Together, they oversee shipbuilding on the Inland Seas. Both of these outstanding individuals started out in the working class. They wore overalls and got their hands dirty, not for “experience,” but out of necessity; they labored side by side with everyday workers; they climbed up from the bottom ranks—and today, as symbols of bravery and ambition, they are the two greatest shipbuilders on the planet. In a novel, such characters would seem almost unbelievable. But the Lakes produce people like these. There are others with even more extraordinary careers, and I’ll share their stories later—men whose journeys from poverty to wealth and power rival the most captivating tales of the Goulds and Astors.
Mr. Pessano, “the independent,” does not entirely monopolise Detroit shipbuilding, for Wallace was there ahead of him with one of the trust’s big yards, which is known under the name of the Detroit Shipbuilding Company. It materially assists in the city’s greatness, and will continue to do so more and more each year. During 1907, it launched six big freighters in Detroit, and that city, together with eight other Lake cities, heaps blessings on the trust. For the trust is most generous and unprejudiced in its distribution of yards. It builds ships in one huge yard at Superior, in two at Chicago, two at Cleveland, and in one at Lorain, Buffalo, Wyandotte, Detroit, and Milwaukee. Among these cities it has distributed over fifteen18 million dollars in capital, and it is estimated that it affords a livelihood for between fifty and sixty thousand people. In 1907, the different yards built twice the tonnage of the next two largest shipbuilding concerns in the world combined—those of Doxford and Sons, of Sunderland, and Harland and Wolff, of Belfast, whose aggregate tonnage was not over one hundred and fifty thousand. The astonishing rate at which Lake shipbuilding is increasing is shown in the fact that the trust’s production for 1907 was twice that of 1905, which was 117,482 tons, divided among twenty vessels. A new factor has come into Lake shipbuilding which will count considerably in the future. This is the Toledo Shipbuilding Company, which purchased the Craig yards in 1906, and which has expended a great deal of money since that time in perfecting its plant, until now it has one of the most modern construction yards on the Lakes.
Mr. Pessano, “the independent,” doesn’t completely dominate Detroit shipbuilding, as Wallace was already there with one of the trust’s major yards, known as the Detroit Shipbuilding Company. This company significantly contributes to the city’s growth and will continue to do so more each year. In 1907, it launched six large freighters in Detroit, and that city, along with eight other cities around the Lakes, is grateful to the trust. The trust is quite generous and fair in its distribution of yards. It builds ships in a massive yard at Superior, two in Chicago, two in Cleveland, as well as in Lorain, Buffalo, Wyandotte, Detroit, and Milwaukee. Among these cities, it has invested over fifteen18 million dollars in capital, and it’s estimated that it provides jobs for around fifty to sixty thousand people. In 1907, the various yards produced twice the tonnage of the next two largest shipbuilding companies in the world combined—those being Doxford and Sons, from Sunderland, and Harland and Wolff, from Belfast, whose total tonnage was no more than one hundred fifty thousand. The remarkable growth rate of Lake shipbuilding is demonstrated by the fact that the trust’s production for 1907 was double that of 1905, which was 117,482 tons, spread across twenty vessels. A new player has emerged in Lake shipbuilding that will have a significant impact in the future. This is the Toledo Shipbuilding Company, which acquired the Craig yards in 1906 and has invested heavily in upgrading its facilities, making it one of the most modern ship construction yards on the Lakes today.

It would seem that this activity in Lake shipyards must soon supply demands, but such will not be the case for many years to come. While the depression of 1908 has cast its gloom, Lake men cannot see the end of their prosperity. They are in the midst of fortune-making days on the Inland Seas. To-day one of the steel ships of the Lakes is as good as a gold mine, and will continue to be so for a quarter of a century to come. The shipyards are growing each year, but the increase of tonnage is outstripping them, and until cargo and ships are more evenly balanced the owners19 of vessels on the Great Lakes must be counted among the most fortunate men in the world.
It seems that this activity in the Lake shipyards will soon meet the demands, but that won’t happen for many years. The 1908 depression has cast a shadow, yet the workers on the Lake can’t see the end of their success. They are in the middle of a prosperous period on the Inland Seas. Today, one of the steel ships from the Lakes is as valuable as a gold mine and will stay that way for the next twenty-five years. The shipyards are expanding every year, but the growth in tonnage is outpacing them, and until cargo and ships are better aligned, the shipowners on the Great Lakes will remain among the luckiest people in the world.19
It is only natural that these conditions should have developed shipbuilding on the Lakes to a science unparalleled in any other part of the earth. I once had the good fortune to talk with a shipbuilder from the Clyde. He had heard much of the Lakes. He had built ships for them. He had heard of the wonders of shipbuilding in their cities. So he had come across to see for himself.
It’s only natural that these conditions led to shipbuilding on the Lakes becoming a science unmatched anywhere else in the world. I was fortunate enough to speak with a shipbuilder from the Clyde. He had heard a lot about the Lakes. He had built ships for them. He had heard about the impressive shipbuilding in their cities. So, he came over to see it for himself.
“I had thought that your ships would not compare with ours,” he said. “You build them so quickly that I thought they would surely be inferior to those of the Clyde. But they are the best in the world; I will say that—the best in the world, and you build them like magicians! You lay their keels to-day—to-morrow they are gone!”
“I used to think that your ships wouldn't match up to ours,” he said. “You build them so fast that I figured they must be inferior to those from the Clyde. But they're the best in the world; I have to say that—the best in the world, and you build them like wizards! You lay their keels today—tomorrow they're gone!”
This is almost true. A ten-thousand-ton leviathan of the Lakes can now be built almost as quickly as carpenters can put up an eight-room house. Any one of several shipyards can get out one of these monsters of marine commerce within ninety days, and the record stands with a ten-thousand-ton vessel that was launched fifty-three days after her keel was laid! One hardly realises what this means until he knows of a few of the things that go into the construction of such a vessel. Take the steamer Thomas F. Cole, for instance, launched early in 1907 by the Great Lakes Engineering Works. This vessel is the giant of the Lakes, and is six hundred20 and five feet and five inches long. She is fifty-eight feet beam and thirty-two feet deep, and in a single trip can carry as great a load as three hundred freight cars, or twelve thousand tons. In her are nine million five hundred thousand pounds of iron and steel! What does this mean? It means that if every man, woman, and child in Indiana, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota were to join in carrying this material to a certain place, each person would have to transport one pound. In the mass would be eight hundred thousand rivets, ranging in size from five eighths of an inch to one and one eighth inches in diameter.
This is almost true. A ten-thousand-ton leviathan of the Lakes can now be built almost as quickly as carpenters can put up an eight-room house. Any one of several shipyards can launch one of these massive vessels within ninety days, and the record is held by a ten-thousand-ton ship that was launched just fifty-three days after her keel was laid! One hardly realizes what this means until they know a few of the things that go into building such a ship. Take the steamer Thomas F. Cole, for example, which was launched early in 1907 by the Great Lakes Engineering Works. This vessel is the giant of the Lakes, measuring six hundred and five feet and five inches long. She has a beam of fifty-eight feet and a depth of thirty-two feet, and in a single trip, she can carry as much cargo as three hundred freight cars, or twelve thousand tons. Inside her are nine million five hundred thousand pounds of iron and steel! What does this mean? It means that if every man, woman, and child in Indiana, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota were to help carry this material to a specific location, each person would need to transport one pound. In the total would be eight hundred thousand rivets, ranging in size from five-eighths of an inch to one and one-eighth inches in diameter.
One who is investigating Lake shipbuilding for the first time will be astonished to discover that the modern freighter is in many ways a huge private yacht. They are almost without exception owned by men of wealth, and their cabins are fitted out even more luxuriously than those of passenger boats, for while these latter are intended for the use of the public, the passenger accommodations of freighters are planned for the friends and families of the owners. So above the deck which conceals ten thousand tons of ore the vessel may be a floating palace. The keenest rivalry exists between owners as to who shall possess the finest ships, and fortunes are expended in the fittings of cabins alone. Nothing that money can secure is omitted. In the words of a builder: “The modern freighter is like a modern hotel—only much more luxuriously furnished.” There is an electric light system throughout21 the ship; the cabins are equipped with telephones; there is steam heat; there are kitchens with the latest cooking devices, elegantly appointed dining-rooms; there are state-rooms which are like the apartments in a palace, and other things which one would not expect to see beyond the black and forbidding steel walls of these fortune-makers of the Lakes.
One who is looking into Lake shipbuilding for the first time will be amazed to find that the modern freighter is, in many ways, a massive private yacht. Almost all of them are owned by wealthy individuals, and their cabins are outfitted even more lavishly than those on passenger vessels, since the latter are meant for public use, while the accommodations on freighters are designed for the owners' friends and families. So above the deck that hides ten thousand tons of ore, the ship could be a floating palace. There's intense competition among owners to see who has the finest ships, and fortunes are spent just on the cabin fittings. Nothing that money can buy is left out. As a builder puts it: “The modern freighter is like a modern hotel—only much more luxuriously furnished.” There’s an electric lighting system throughout21the ship; the cabins have telephones; there’s steam heat; there are kitchens with the latest cooking appliances, elegantly designed dining rooms; there are state rooms that resemble apartments in a palace, along with other features one wouldn't expect to see behind the black and intimidating steel walls of these money-making machines of the Lakes.
With the first peep into modern methods one realises that the romantic shipbuilding days of old are gone. No longer does the shape, beauty, and speed of a vessel depend upon the eyes and hands of the men who are actually putting it together. For the ship of to-day is built in the engineering offices. In the draughting-room skilled men lay out the plans and make the models for a ship just as an architect does for a house, and when these plans are done they go to a great building which reminds one of a vast dance hall, and which is known as the “mould loft.” Seemingly the place is not used. Yet at the very moment you are looking about, wondering what this vacancy has to do with shipbuilding, you are walking on the decks of a ship. All about upon the floor, if you notice carefully, you will see hundreds and thousands of lines, and every one of these lines represents a line of the freighter which within three or four months will be taking her trial trip. Here upon the floor is drawn the “line ship” in exactly the same size as the vessel which is to be built. Over certain sections of this “line ship” men place very thin pieces of basswood, which they22 frame together in the identical size and shape of the ship’s plates. By the use of these moulds, or templates, the workman can see just where the rivet holes should be, and wherever a rivet is to go he puts a little spot of paint. These model plates are then numbered and sent to the “plate department,” where the real sheets of steel are made to conform with them and where the one million five hundred thousand or more rivet holes are punched. With the plates ready, the real ship quickly takes size and form.
With the first insight into modern methods, it's clear that the romantic age of shipbuilding is over. The shape, beauty, and speed of a vessel no longer rely on the eyes and hands of the workers who assemble it. Today's ships are designed in engineering offices. In the drafting room, skilled professionals create the plans and models for a ship just like an architect does for a house. Once these plans are complete, they go to a large building that resembles a huge dance hall, known as the “mould loft.” At first glance, it seems the space is unused. Yet at that very moment, as you look around, you’re walking on the decks of a ship. If you observe closely, you'll see hundreds and thousands of lines on the floor, each representing a line of the freighter that will be on its trial trip in three or four months. Here, on the floor, the “line ship” is drawn to the exact size of the vessel to be built. Over certain sections of this “line ship,” workers place very thin strips of basswood, which they frame in the exact size and shape of the ship’s plates. Using these molds or templates, the workers can see exactly where the rivet holes should be, and wherever a rivet is needed, they mark a small spot of paint. These model plates are then numbered and sent to the “plate department,” where the actual sheets of steel are shaped to match them and where over one million five hundred thousand rivet holes are punched. With the plates ready, the real ship quickly takes shape and form.
Some morning a little army of men begins work where to the ordinary observer there is nothing but piles of steel and big timbers. From a distance the scene reminds one of a partly depleted lumber yard. On one side of this, and within a few yards of the water of a slip, are first set up with mathematical accuracy a number of square timbers called “keel blocks.” Upon these blocks will rest the bottom of the ship, and from them to the water’s edge run long shelving timbers, or “ways,” down which she will slide when ready for launching.
Some morning, a small army of workers starts their tasks in a place that looks like just piles of steel and large wooden beams to an average onlooker. From afar, the area resembles a partially empty lumber yard. On one side of this, just a few yards from the water of a slip, a bunch of square beams called “keel blocks” are set up with precise measurements. The bottom of the ship will rest on these blocks, and from there to the water’s edge, long sloped timbers, or “ways,” extend down which the ship will slide when it's ready to launch.

Children frequently play with blocks which, when placed together according to the numbers on them, form a map of the United States. This is modern shipbuilding—in a way. It is on the same idea. There is a proper place for every steel plate in the yards, and the numbers on them are what locate them in the ship. A giant crane runs overhead, reaches down, seizes a certain plate, rumbles back, to hover23 for a moment over the growing “floor,” lowers its burden—and the iron workers do the rest. Within a few days work has reached a point where you begin to wonder, and for the first time, perhaps, you realise what an intricate affair a great ship really is, and what precautions are taken to keep it from sinking in collision or storm. You begin to see that a Lake freighter is what might be described as two ships, one built within the other. As the vessel increases in size, as the sides of it, as well as the bottom, are put together, there are two little armies of men at work—one on the outer ship and one on the inner. From the bottom and sides of the first steel shell of the ship there extend upward and inward heavy steel supports, upon which are laid the plates of the “inner ship.” In the space between these two walls will be carried water ballast. The chambers into which it is divided are the life-preservers of the vessel. A dozen holes may be punched into her, but just as long as only this outer and protecting ship suffers, and the inner ship is not perforated, the carrier and her ten-thousand-ton cargo will keep afloat.
Kids often play with blocks that, when arranged according to their numbers, create a map of the United States. This is modern shipbuilding—in a way. It’s based on the same concept. There’s a specific spot for every steel plate in the yards, and the numbers on them indicate where they go in the ship. A giant crane runs overhead, reaches down, grabs a specific plate, rolls back, stopping for a moment above the growing “floor,” lowers its load—and the ironworkers take it from there. After a few days, the work progresses to the point where you start to wonder, and for the first time, you might realize how complex a big ship really is, and what measures are taken to keep it safe from sinking during a collision or storm. You start to see that a Lake freighter can be described as two ships, one built inside the other. As the vessel grows in size, with the sides and bottom coming together, two teams of workers are busy—one on the outer ship and one on the inner. From the bottom and sides of the first steel shell of the ship, heavy steel supports extend upward and inward, on which the plates of the “inner ship” are laid. In the gap between these two walls, water ballast will be carried. The compartments created within them act as life-preservers for the vessel. A dozen holes may be punched into the outer ship, but as long as only this outer, protective layer is damaged and the inner ship remains intact, the carrier and her ten-thousand-ton cargo will stay afloat.
When the construction of the vessel has reached a point where men can work on the inner as well as the outer hull, it is not uncommon for six hundred to eight hundred workmen to be engaged on her at one time. Frequently as high as one hundred gangs of riveters, of four men each, are at work simultaneously, and at such times the pounding of the automatic24 riveting machines sounds at the distance of half a mile like a battery of Gatling guns in action. So the work continues until every plate is in place and the vessel is ready for launching, which is the most exciting moment in the career of the ship—unless at some future day she meets a tragic end at sea. One by one the blocks which have been placed under her bottom are removed, until only two remain, one at each end. Then, at the last moment, these two are pulled away simultaneously, and the steel monster slides sidewise down the greased ways until, with a thunderous crash of water, she plunges into her native element.
When the construction of the ship has reached a stage where workers can operate on both the inner and outer hull, it's common for six hundred to eight hundred workers to be involved at once. Often, there are as many as one hundred teams of riveters, each with four men, working at the same time, and during these moments, the noise from the automatic 24 riveting machines echoes from half a mile away like a barrage of Gatling guns. The work continues until every plate is secured and the ship is ready for launch, which is the most thrilling moment in the ship's journey—unless, at some point in the future, she meets a tragic fate at sea. One by one, the blocks supporting her bottom are removed until only two are left, one at each end. Then, at the final moment, these two are pulled away simultaneously, and the steel giant glides sideways down the greased ways until, with a thunderous splash, she plunges into her natural element.
Thus ends the building of the ship, with the exception of what is known as her “deck work,” the fitting of her luxurious cabins, the placing of her engines, and a score of other things which are done after she is afloat. She is now a “carrier” of the Lakes. A little longer and captain and crew take possession of her, clouds of bituminous smoke rise from her funnels, and with flying pennants and screaming whistles she turns her nose into the great highway that leads a thousand miles into the North—to the land of the ore kings.
Thus ends the construction of the ship, except for what’s called her “deck work,” the installation of her luxurious cabins, the placement of her engines, and numerous other tasks that are completed once she’s in the water. She is now a “carrier” of the Lakes. Soon, the captain and crew will take command of her, clouds of thick smoke will billow from her funnels, and with flying flags and loud whistles, she’ll set off on the great route that stretches a thousand miles to the North—to the land of the ore kings.
Picture a train of forty-ton freight cars loaded to capacity, the engine and caboose both in New York City, yet extending in an unbroken line entirely around the earth—a train reaching along a parallel from New York to San Francisco, across the Pacific, the Chinese Empire, Turkestan, Persia, the Mediterranean, mid the Atlantic—and you have an idea of what the ships of the Great Lakes carry during a single eight months’ season of navigation. At least you have the part of an idea. For were such a train conceivable, it would not only completely engirdle the earth along the fortieth degree of north latitude, but there would still be something like two thousand miles of it left over. In it would be two million five hundred thousand cars, and it would carry one hundred million tons of freight! Were this train to pass you at a given point at the rate of twenty miles an hour, you would have to stand there forty days and forty nights to see the end of it.
Imagine a train of forty-ton freight cars filled to the brim, with the engine and caboose both in New York City, yet extending in a continuous line all the way around the globe—a train stretching from New York to San Francisco, across the Pacific, through the Chinese Empire, Turkestan, Persia, the Mediterranean, and the Atlantic—and you get a sense of what the ships of the Great Lakes transport in just one eight-month navigation season. At least you grasp part of the idea. Because if such a train were possible, it would not only completely circle the earth along the fortieth degree of north latitude, but there would still be about two thousand miles left over. It would consist of two million five hundred thousand cars, carrying one hundred million tons of freight! If this train were to pass you at twenty miles an hour, you would have to stand there for forty days and forty nights to see the end of it.
Only by allowing the imagination to paint such a26 picture as this can one conceive to any degree at all the immensity of the freight traffic on our Inland Seas.
Only by letting the imagination create a26 picture like this can one begin to grasp, even slightly, the magnitude of the freight traffic on our Inland Seas.
“A hundred million tons,” repeated the mayor of one of our Lake ports when I told him about it recently. “A hundred million tons! That’s quite a lot of stuff, isn’t it?”
“A hundred million tons,” repeated the mayor of one of our lake ports when I told him about it recently. “A hundred million tons! That’s a huge amount, isn’t it?”
Quite a lot of stuff! It might have been a hundred million bushels and he would have been equally surprised. His lack of enthusiasm does not discredit him. He does not own ships; neither does he fill them. He is like the vast majority of our millions, who have never given more than a passing thought to that gigantic inland water commerce which has largely been the making of the nation. It did not dawn on him that it meant more than a ton for every man, woman, and child on this North American continent; that in dollars it counted billions; that on it depended the existence of cities; that largely because of it foreign nations acknowledged our commercial prestige.
A whole lot of stuff! It could have been a hundred million bushels and he would have been just as surprised. His lack of excitement doesn’t make him any less valid. He doesn’t own ships, nor does he fill them. He’s like the vast majority of millions of us who have never really thought about the huge inland water trade that has significantly shaped our nation. He didn’t realize it represented more than a ton for every man, woman, and child on this North American continent; that in terms of dollars, it amounted to billions; that cities depended on it for their existence; and that largely because of it, foreign countries recognized our commercial status.

Ice-Bound. Thirty-two Boats Tied up in the Ice at the Soo.
Ice-Bound. Thirty-two Boats Stuck in the Ice at the Soo.
From a Photograph by Lord & Thomas, Sault Ste. Marie, Mich.
From a Photograph by Lord & Thomas, Sault Ste. Marie, MI.
No other hundred million tons of freight in all the world is as important to Americans as this annual traffic of the Great Lakes. To move it requires the services of nearly three thousand vessels of all kinds, employing twenty-five thousand men at an aggregate wage of thirteen million dollars a year. A million working people are fed and clothed and housed because of the cargoes this huge argosy carries from port to port.
No other hundred million tons of freight in the world is as important to Americans as this annual traffic of the Great Lakes. Moving it requires nearly three thousand vessels of all kinds, employing twenty-five thousand men who earn a total of thirteen million dollars a year. A million workers are fed, clothed, and housed because of the cargoes this massive fleet transports from port to port.
27 It is impossible to say with accuracy how this hundred million tons of freight is distributed and of what it consists. Only at the Soo and at Detroit are records kept of passing tonnage, so the figures which are given showing the tremendous commerce that passes these places do not include the enormous tonnage which is loaded and emptied without passing through the Detroit River or the Sault Ste. Marie canals. The Detroit River is the greatest waterway of commerce in the world, and in 1906 there passed through it over sixty million tons, or more than three fifths of the total tonnage of the Lakes. Of this about a quarter moved in a northerly direction and three quarters toward the cities of the East. The principal item of the up-bound traffic was 14,000,000 tons of coal, of the south-bound 37,513,600 tons of iron ore, 110,598,927 bushels of grain, 1,159,757 tons of flour, 14,888,927 bushels of flaxseed, and over 1,000,000,000 feet of lumber. In 1907, there was a big increase, the commerce passing through the Detroit River being over 75,000,000 tons.
27 It's impossible to accurately determine how this hundred million tons of freight is distributed or what it's made up of. Only at the Soo and Detroit are records kept of the tonnage that passes through, so the figures showing the massive commerce in those areas don't include the huge tonnage that is loaded and unloaded without going through the Detroit River or the Sault Ste. Marie canals. The Detroit River is the largest commercial waterway in the world, and in 1906, over sixty million tons passed through it, which is more than three-fifths of the total tonnage of the Great Lakes. About a quarter of this cargo was heading north, while three-quarters was going toward the cities in the East. The main item in the northbound traffic was 14,000,000 tons of coal, while the southbound traffic included 37,513,600 tons of iron ore, 110,598,927 bushels of grain, 1,159,757 tons of flour, 14,888,927 bushels of flaxseed, and over 1,000,000,000 feet of lumber. In 1907, there was a significant increase, with commerce passing through the Detroit River exceeding 75,000,000 tons.
“And when you are figuring out what the ships carry, be sure and don’t leave out the smoke!” said the captain of an ore carrier, pointing over our port to a black trail half a mile long. “Never thought of it, did you? Well, last year our Lake ships burned three million tons of coal. Think of it! Three million tons—enough to heat every home in Chicago for two years!”
“And when you’re figuring out what the ships carry, don’t forget about the smoke!” said the captain of an ore carrier, pointing over to our left at a black trail that went on for half a mile. “You never thought of that, did you? Last year our Lake ships burned three million tons of coal. Can you believe it? Three million tons—enough to heat every home in Chicago for two years!”

But in this chapter I am not going to deal with smoke; neither with the grain that feeds nations, nor the lumber that builds their homes. They will be described in their time. The backbone of American manufacturing industry—the mainspring of our commercial prestige abroad—is iron; and it is this iron, gathered in the one-time wildernesses of the Northland and brought down a thousand miles by ship, that stands largely for the greatness of the Lakes to-day. “Gold is precious, but iron is priceless,” said Andrew Carnegie. “The wheels of progress may run without the gleam of yellow metal, but never without our ugly ore.” And the Lake country, or three little patches of it, produce each year nearly a half of the earth’s total supply of iron. Farmers in the wake of their ploughshares, our millions of workers in metal, and our other millions whose fingers daily touch the chill of iron have never dreamed of this. Few of them know that eight hundred great vessels are engaged solely in the iron ore traffic; that in a single trip this immense fleet can transport more than three million tons, and that in 1907, they brought to the foundries of the East and South over forty-one million tons. If every man, woman, and child, savage or civilised, that inhabits this earth of ours were to receive equal portions of this one product carried by Lake vessels in 1907, each person’s share would be forty pounds! And still the world is crying for iron. There is not enough to supply the29 demand, and there never will be. The iron ore traffic of the Lakes has doubled during the last six years; it will double again during the next ten—and iron will still be the most precious thing on earth.
But in this chapter, I’m not going to discuss smoke, the grain that feeds nations, or the lumber that builds their homes. Those will be covered later. The backbone of American manufacturing—the key to our commercial status abroad—is iron; and it’s this iron, taken from the once wild areas of the North and transported a thousand miles by ship, that largely represents the greatness of the Lakes today. “Gold is valuable, but iron is invaluable,” said Andrew Carnegie. “The wheels of progress can turn without shiny gold, but never without our unappealing ore.” And the Lake region, or three small areas of it, produces almost half of the entire world’s iron supply each year. Farmers with their plows, millions of metalworkers, and countless others who handle the cold iron every day have never imagined this. Few realize that eight hundred large vessels are dedicated solely to the iron ore trade; that this massive fleet can carry over three million tons in a single trip, and that in 1907, they delivered more than forty-one million tons to foundries in the East and South. If every person on this planet, whether savage or civilized, were to receive equal shares of this one product transported by Lake vessels in 1907, each person’s portion would be forty pounds! Yet the world is still calling for iron. There isn't enough to meet the demand, and there never will be. The iron ore trade on the Lakes has doubled in the last six years; it will double again in the next ten—and iron will continue to be the most valuable material on earth.
If the iron ore mines of the North were to go out of existence to-morrow nearly half of the commerce of the Inland Seas would cease to be. With it would go the strongest men of the Lakes. For our iron has made iron men. In that Northland, along the Mesaba, Goebic, and Vermilion ranges, from Duluth’s back door to the pine barrens of northern Michigan and Wisconsin, they have practically made themselves rulers of the world’s commerce in steel and iron. To follow the great ships of the Lakes over their northward trail into this country is to enter into realms of past romance and adventure which would furnish material for a hundred novels. But people do not know this. The picturesque days of ’49, the Australian fever, and the Klondike rush are as of yesterday in memory—but what of this Northland, where they load dirty ore into dirty ships and carry it to the dirty foundries of the East? Ask Captain Joseph Sellwood; ask the “three Merritts,” Alfred, Leonidas, and N. B.; or John Uno Sebenius, David T. Adams, and Martin Pattison; ask any one of a score of others who are living, and who will tell you of the days not so very long ago when the iron prospectors went out with packs on their backs30 and guns in their hands to seek the “ugly wealth.” These are of the old generation of “iron men”—the men who suffered in the days of exploration and development in the wilderness, who starved and froze, who survived while companions died, who suffered adventures and hardships in the death-like grip of Northland winters that rival any of those in Klondike history. And the new generation that has followed is like them in “the strength of man” that is in them. They are a powerful breed, these iron kings, down to the newest among them; men like Thomas F. Cole, who rose from nothing to a position of power and wealth, and W. P. Snyder, the poverty-stricken Methodist minister’s son, who has fought the Steel Corporation to a standstill and who is talked of as its president of the future.
If the iron ore mines in the North were to disappear tomorrow, nearly half of the trade on the Inland Seas would come to a halt. Along with that would go the strongest men of the Lakes. Our iron has created tough people. In that Northland, along the Mesaba, Goebic, and Vermilion ranges, from the back door of Duluth to the pine forests of northern Michigan and Wisconsin, they have practically positioned themselves as leaders of the global steel and iron trade. Following the large ships of the Lakes on their northward journey into this territory brings to life tales of past romance and adventure that could inspire a hundred novels. Yet, people are unaware of this. The colorful days of '49, the Australian gold rush, and the Klondike excitement are still fresh in memory—but what about this Northland, where they load filthy ore onto filthy ships and transport it to the dirty factories in the East? Ask Captain Joseph Sellwood; ask the “three Merritts,” Alfred, Leonidas, and N. B.; or John Uno Sebenius, David T. Adams, and Martin Pattison; ask any of a number of others who are still around and will tell you about the days not too long ago when iron prospectors set out with backpacks and guns, searching for “ugly wealth.” These are the older generation of “iron men”—the individuals who endured during the exploration and development of the wilderness, who starved and froze, who survived while others perished, who faced adventures and hardships in the brutal winters of the Northland that rival any in Klondike history. And the new generation that has emerged is similar in “the strength of man” that resides within them. They are a formidable breed, these iron kings, right down to the newest among them; men like Thomas F. Cole, who rose from nothing to gain power and wealth, and W. P. Snyder, the son of a struggling Methodist minister who has fought the Steel Corporation to a standstill and is seen as its potential future president.

It will be a great “coming together” for the iron and steel industry, this winning of William Penn Snyder. To-day he is the king of pig iron. When he refused to deal with those who formed the United States Steel Corporation, his friends said that he was ruined. But he stood on his feet alone—and fought. He got a neck hold on the corporation. He cornered pig iron and because of him at the present time the corporation is paying very heavy prices for its outside product. Snyder is worth fifteen million dollars. In 1906, he cleaned up one million five hundred thousand dollars on pig iron alone, and there is no reason for doubting that his 1907 earnings were greater31 still. He is a powerful enemy to have as a friend—and the corporation wants him, and will probably get him.
It will be a significant “coming together” for the iron and steel industry with the success of William Penn Snyder. Today, he reigns as the king of pig iron. When he decided not to work with those who formed the United States Steel Corporation, his friends claimed he was finished. But he stood his ground and fought back. He got a grip on the corporation. He cornered the pig iron market, and because of him, the corporation is currently paying very high prices for its external product. Snyder is worth fifteen million dollars. In 1906, he made one million five hundred thousand dollars just from pig iron, and there's no reason to doubt that his earnings in 1907 were even higher31. He’s a powerful ally to have—and the corporation wants him, and will likely succeed in getting him.
If you are going into the North to study the ore traffic at close range, the first man you will probably hear of after leaving your ship is Thomas F. Cole, of Duluth. You must know Cole before you go deeper into the subject of the forty or fifty million tons of ore which the ships will carry during the present year of 1909. The United States Steel Corporation will use about thirty million tons of the total output of the ore regions this year, and Cole is the United States Steel Corporation in this big Northland. He is the head of the finest and most delicate industrial mechanism in the world. This mechanism, in a way, is so fine that it may be said to be almost non-existent. It is simply an “organized and capitalized intelligence.” The Steel Corporation will mine some eighteen or twenty million tons of ore in Minnesota alone this year. Yet it owns not a dollar’s worth of property in the State. As a corporation it does no business in the State. It might be described as a huge octopus, and each arm of this octopus, representing a big mining interest, works independently of all other arms and of the body of the octopus itself. Through these arms the corporation accomplishes its aims. Each huge mine has its own executive organisation, is responsible for its own acts—but it must obtain results. The “central intelligence,” or body of32 the corporation, is there to judge results, and Cole is the power that watches over all. Officially he is known as the president of the Oliver Mining Company, the greatest organisation of its kind in existence, which attends not only to the Steel Corporation’s interests in Minnesota, but in Michigan and Wisconsin as well. As the great eye of the world’s largest trust he guards the interests of thirty-one mines, employs fifteen thousand men, and gives subsistence to sixty thousand people.
If you're heading north to closely observe the ore trade, the first person you'll likely hear about after disembarking from your ship is Thomas F. Cole from Duluth. You need to know Cole before diving deeper into the forty or fifty million tons of ore that ships will transport this year in 1909. The United States Steel Corporation will use around thirty million tons of the total ore output this year, and Cole embodies the United States Steel Corporation in this vast northern region. He leads one of the most sophisticated industrial operations in the world. This operation is so finely tuned that it might be described as nearly nonexistent. It’s essentially an “organized and capitalized intelligence.” The Steel Corporation plans to mine about eighteen to twenty million tons of ore in Minnesota alone this year, yet it doesn’t own any property in the state. As a corporation, it doesn’t conduct business there. You could liken it to a massive octopus, where each arm represents a significant mining interest, operating independently from the others and the body of the octopus itself. Through these arms, the corporation achieves its goals. Each large mine has its own executive structure and is accountable for its actions—but it must deliver results. The “central intelligence,” or the body of the corporation, is there to assess those results, and Cole is the overseer. Officially, he is the president of the Oliver Mining Company, the largest organization of its kind, which oversees not just the Steel Corporation's interests in Minnesota but also in Michigan and Wisconsin. As the central figure of the world's largest trust, he safeguards the interests of thirty-one mines, employs fifteen thousand people, and supports sixty thousand lives.

The “Montezuma.”
The "Montezuma."
The largest wooden ship on fresh water being towed out of the Maumee River, Toledo.
The biggest wooden ship on fresh water being towed out of the Maumee River, Toledo.
Because of the transportation of this mighty product Cole is as closely associated with the Lakes and their ships as with the ranges and their mines. It has been said that he was “born between ships and mines,” and he has always remained between them. He is one of the most remarkable characters of the Inland Seas. Cole is only forty-seven years old, and for thirty-nine years he has earned his own livelihood, and more. When six years old, his father was killed in an accident in the Phœnix Mine. Baby Tom was the oldest of the widowed mother’s little brood, and he rose to the occasion. At the age of eight he became a washboy in the Cliff stamp mill. He had hardly mastered his alphabet; he could barely read the simplest lines; never in this civilised world did a youngster begin life’s battle with greater odds against him. But even in these days the great ambition was born in him, as it was born in Abraham Lincoln; and like Lincoln, in his little wilderness home of poverty and33 sorrow, he began educating himself. It took years. But he succeeded.
Because of the transportation of this powerful product, Cole is as closely connected to the Lakes and their ships as he is to the ranges and their mines. People say he was “born between ships and mines,” and he has always stayed in that space. He is one of the most extraordinary figures of the Inland Seas. Cole is only forty-seven years old, and for thirty-nine years, he has been earning his own living and more. When he was six, his father died in an accident at the Phœnix Mine. Baby Tom was the oldest of his widowed mother’s young children, and he stepped up to the challenge. By age eight, he became a washboy at the Cliff stamp mill. He had barely learned his alphabet; he could hardly read simple sentences; never in this civilized world did a young person face greater challenges at the start of life. However, even during these tough times, a great ambition took root in him, just like it did in Abraham Lincoln; and like Lincoln, in his little wilderness home of poverty and sorrow, he started teaching himself. It took years. But he made it.
This is the man whose name you will hear first when you enter the mining country. To chronicle his rise from a dusty Calumet office of long ago to his present kingdom of iron would be to write a book of romance. And there are others of the iron barons of the North whose histories would be almost as interesting, even though fortune may have smiled on them less kindly.
This is the man whose name you’ll hear first when you enter the mining region. Telling the story of his rise from a dusty office in Calumet long ago to his current empire of iron would be like writing a romance novel. There are also other iron barons of the North whose stories would be nearly as fascinating, even if luck hasn’t favored them as generously.
From the immensity of the interests which Cole superintends one might be led to believe that the iron ore industry is almost entirely in the hands of the trust. This, however, is not so. For every ship that goes down into the South for the trust another leaves for an independent. Nearly every maker of steel owns a mine or two in the ranges of Minnesota, Michigan, or Wisconsin. There are five of these ranges. The Mesaba and Vermilion ranges, both in Minnesota, produce about two thirds of the total product carried by the ships of the Lakes; the Goebic, Menominee, and Marquette ranges are in Michigan and Wisconsin.
From the vast interests that Cole oversees, one might think that the iron ore industry is almost completely controlled by the trust. However, this isn't the case. For every ship that departs for the trust in the South, another one leaves for an independent company. Nearly every steel manufacturer owns a mine or two in the ranges of Minnesota, Michigan, or Wisconsin. There are five of these ranges. The Mesaba and Vermilion ranges, both in Minnesota, account for about two-thirds of the total product transported by the ships on the Lakes; the Gogebic, Menominee, and Marquette ranges are located in Michigan and Wisconsin.
Somehow it is true that nearly every great thing associated with the Lakes is unusual in some way—unusual to an astonishing degree, and the iron ore industry is not an exception. Probably not one person in ten thousand knows that one lone county in this great continent is the very backbone of the steel industry in the United States. This county is in34 Minnesota. It is the county of St. Louis, and is about as big as the State of Massachusetts. Not much more than twenty years ago it was a howling wilderness. Even a dozen years ago the Mesaba bore but little evidence of the presence of man. Now this country is alive with industry. Buried in the wilderness which still exists are thriving towns; where a short time ago deer and bear wandered unmolested, is now the din of innumerable locomotives, the rumbling of thousands of trains, the screeching of whistles, and the constant groaning of steam shovels. There is not a richer county on the face of the earth. In it are over one hundred mines, from which one hundred and twenty-three million tons of ore have been taken since Charlemagne Tower, now Ambassador to Germany, brought down the first carload to Duluth in 1884. These mines afford livelihood for more than two hundred thousand people, and because of them St. Louis County possesses the greatest freight traffic road in existence—the Duluth, Mesaba, and Northern Railway—which, in 1907, carried about fourteen million tons of ore from the mines to the docks.
Somehow, it's true that almost everything great about the Lakes is unusual in some way—remarkably unusual, and the iron ore industry is no exception. Probably not one person in ten thousand knows that one county on this vast continent is the backbone of the steel industry in the United States. This county is in34 Minnesota. It’s St. Louis County, and it’s about the size of the State of Massachusetts. Just over twenty years ago, it was a wild, untamed wilderness. Even a dozen years ago, the Mesaba had hardly any signs of human presence. Now, this area is buzzing with industry. Hidden in the remaining wilderness are thriving towns; where a short time ago, deer and bears roamed freely, there’s now the noise of countless locomotives, the rumble of thousands of trains, the screech of whistles, and the constant clatter of steam shovels. There’s not a richer county anywhere on Earth. It has over one hundred mines, from which one hundred and twenty-three million tons of ore have been extracted since Charlemagne Tower, now the Ambassador to Germany, brought down the first carload to Duluth in 1884. These mines provide jobs for more than two hundred thousand people, and because of them, St. Louis County has the largest freight traffic route in existence—the Duluth, Mesaba, and Northern Railway—which, in 1907, transported about fourteen million tons of ore from the mines to the docks.

A Coal Dock at Superior, Wisconsin.
A Coal Dock in Superior, Wisconsin.
The pile of coal is 1400 feet long and 30 feet high.
The pile of coal is 1,400 feet long and 30 feet high.
This comparatively little corner of Minnesota practically runs the whole State in so far as expenses are concerned. To administer the affairs of the State, including all of its activities, costs about two million six hundred thousand dollars, and, as inconceivable as it may seem, the three railroads in the ore region pay in taxes one fifth of this sum. They pay one35 third of the total railroad tax of the State, notwithstanding the fact that some of the greatest lines in the country centre at Minneapolis and St. Paul. To this must be added about seven hundred thousand dollars paid in direct taxes by the mines themselves, so that the iron ore which the ships of the Lakes bring down to Eastern ports each season pays almost half of the total expense of running the State of Minnesota!
This relatively small area of Minnesota practically covers the whole state's expenses. Running the state's affairs, including all activities, costs about two million six hundred thousand dollars, and as unbelievable as it may sound, the three railroads in the ore region contribute one fifth of this amount in taxes. They account for one35 third of the total railroad tax in the state, even though some of the biggest lines in the country are based in Minneapolis and St. Paul. In addition to this, the mines themselves pay around seven hundred thousand dollars in direct taxes, meaning that the iron ore shipped down to Eastern ports every season covers almost half of Minnesota's total expenses!
And these mines will add more and more to the State exchequer each year, as will also the mines of the three ranges in Michigan and Wisconsin. For in no part of the world has mining been undertaken on a scale so gigantic as that of the Superior region, and every contrivance known to mining science is being used to increase month by month the mountains of ore which ever fail to satisfy the hungry furnaces of the East. It is predicted by Captain Joseph Sellwood, of Duluth, one of the oldest and greatest of the iron barons, that the time is not distant when the Mesaba range alone will be producing forty million tons of ore a year—as much as all five ranges are producing now.
And these mines will keep contributing more and more to the state's budget each year, just like the mines in the three ranges of Michigan and Wisconsin. No place in the world has mining been done on such a massive scale as in the Superior region, and every tool known to mining science is being used to steadily increase the mountain of ore that never seems to meet the insatiable demands of the furnaces in the East. Captain Joseph Sellwood from Duluth, one of the oldest and most prominent iron magnates, predicts that it won’t be long before the Mesaba range alone will be producing forty million tons of ore a year—equal to what all five ranges are producing now.
“It will cost over a billion dollars to get this ore to the docks,” said he. “And seven hundred and fifty million dollars more to land it in Lake Erie ports.”—Nearly a two-billion-dollar mining and transportation business for the people of the Lakes to look forward to, and this from a single range!
“It will cost over a billion dollars to get this ore to the docks,” he said. “And an additional seven hundred and fifty million dollars to get it to the ports on Lake Erie.” —Almost a two-billion-dollar mining and transportation business for the people of the Lakes to anticipate, all from a single range!
“But will not this tremendous activity exhaust36 your mines?” I asked of several of these iron barons. “The ore doesn’t go down to China, and it doesn’t extend all over the State. What is the future?”
“But won’t this intense activity wear out36 your mines?” I asked a few of these iron barons. “The ore doesn’t travel to China, and it isn’t spread all over the state. What does the future hold?”
The future! Few have thought of this. There are just at present too many millions of dollars in the making to give one time or inclination to picture the days when only black and silent scars will remain to give evidence of the time when this Northland was one of the treasure houses of the earth. But that time must come. Old mining men say so if you can get them to talk about it, and scientific computations, as far as they go, are proof of it. These computations differ, but they agree pretty generally that there are still between a billion and a half and two billion tons of ore in the Superior district. Within the next five years the ships will be bringing down fifty million tons a year, and there is no reason for believing that this will be the maximum. So it is obvious that the ore of the Lake Superior regions will not last beyond the year 1950 unless new deposits are discovered, or methods are found for the utilisation of immense deposits that cannot now be used.
The future! Few people have considered this. Right now, there are simply too many millions of dollars to be made to take the time to imagine the days when only dark and silent scars will remain as evidence of when this Northland was one of the treasure houses of the earth. But that day will come. Experienced miners say so if you can get them to open up about it, and scientific calculations, as far as they go, back it up. These calculations vary, but they generally agree that there are still between one and a half and two billion tons of ore in the Superior district. Within the next five years, ships will be bringing down fifty million tons a year, and there's no reason to believe that this will be the peak. So it’s clear that the ore in the Lake Superior regions won’t last beyond 1950 unless new deposits are found or ways are developed to utilize vast deposits that can’t currently be used.

“Will this event not prove ruinous to a large extent to shipping interests?” I asked G. Ashley Tomlinson, of Duluth, and others closely associated with iron and vessel interests. “To-day nearly half of the total tonnage of the Lakes is from the mines. If this industry becomes practically extinct what will become of the hundreds of ships engaged in the traffic?”
“Isn’t this event going to be really damaging to shipping interests?” I asked G. Ashley Tomlinson from Duluth and others who are closely involved with iron and shipping. “Right now, almost half of the total tonnage on the Great Lakes comes from the mines. If this industry pretty much disappears, what will happen to the hundreds of ships involved in this trade?”
37 Mr. Tomlinson’s answer struck me as extremely logical. “The production of ore will probably reach its maximum within the next ten years,” he said. “It will then begin to decline. But the decrease will be gradual, and meanwhile other freight traffic on the Lakes will be increasing so rapidly that each year ships that were intended originally for the ore trade will carry other business. There will be no loss for the ships. The development of our own and the Canadian West has only begun, and the Lakes are the great links of commerce between their vast enterprises of the future and the East. The grain trade of the Canadian West alone will in the not distant future be something tremendous.”
37 Mr. Tomlinson’s response seemed really logical to me. “The production of ore will likely hit its peak within the next ten years,” he said. “After that, it will start to decline. But the drop will be gradual, and in the meantime, other freight traffic on the Lakes will be growing so quickly that each year, ships that were originally meant for the ore trade will take on different cargo. There will be no loss for the ships. The development of both our region and the Canadian West is just getting started, and the Lakes are the key links of commerce between their vast future endeavors and the East. The grain trade from the Canadian West alone will soon be something incredible.”
But whatever the future of the ore regions of the North may be, their present is one of great interest and importance to the world at large. Mining, like shipbuilding, has been reduced to a science on the Lakes. A stranger visiting for the first time any one of the five ranges is filled with astonishment. I will never forget the sensations with which I first saw mining on the Mesaba range. We had come up over a forest-clad hill and stood on the very edge of the mine before I had been made aware of its nearness. Below me there stretched a mile of deep, huge scars in the bottom of what seemed to be a great hole dug into the earth. One of these pits, half a mile in diameter, and, as I afterward discovered, nearly two hundred feet in depth, was almost at my feet.
But no matter what the future holds for the ore regions of the North, their present is incredibly interesting and important to the world. Mining, much like shipbuilding, has become a science on the Lakes. A newcomer visiting any of the five ranges for the first time is filled with awe. I'll never forget the feelings I had when I first saw mining on the Mesaba range. We had come over a forest-covered hill and stood right on the edge of the mine before I even realized how close we were. Below me lay a mile of deep, massive scars in the bottom of what looked like a giant hole dug into the earth. One of these pits, half a mile wide and, as I later found out, nearly two hundred feet deep, was almost at my feet.
38 “That’s iron ore,” said my companion. “And right there it goes one hundred feet deeper down.”
38 “That’s iron ore,” my friend said. “And right there, it goes a hundred feet deeper.”
This was one of the great “open pits” of the Mesaba range. There are many others like it in the Superior regions. They are the most wonderful mines in the world. Imagine that you take a barrel of salt, dig a hole, pour the salt into this hole, and cover it with a few inches of earth. This gives you an idea of one of these ore mines. After the earth has been “stripped” from the top the ore is reached and it is found in much the same way that the salt would be found. In the words of one superintendent, it is “all together.” It is as if Nature, like a pirate, had dug holes here and there in which she had hidden her treasure, covering it over for concealment with a few feet of earth.
This was one of the major “open pits” of the Mesaba range. There are many others like it in the Superior regions. They are the most incredible mines in the world. Imagine taking a barrel of salt, digging a hole, pouring the salt into that hole, and covering it with a few inches of dirt. This gives you an idea of one of these ore mines. After the dirt has been “stripped” from the top, the ore is reached, and it’s found much like the salt would be. In the words of one superintendent, it is “all together.” It’s as if Nature, like a pirate, had dug holes here and there to hide her treasure, covering it over for disguise with a few feet of dirt.

Down into these pits and along their edges run the tracks of the ore cars. There is here but little of the shovelling and “picking” of men. Steam shovels, weighing from sixty to seventy-five tons each, do the work. Like a great hand one of these shovels dips down into the soft mass of ore, buries its great dipper until it holds from four to eight tons, and then, groaning and rumbling, slowly lifts its burden aloft, swings it over a car, and the actual work of mining is done. A thousand times a day it will repeat this operation, lifting from three thousand to eight thousand tons of ore. This one shovel keeps busy three locomotives and as many trains of dump cars. And there are nearly two hundred of these shovels in use on the39 Mesaba range alone. It costs only about six cents a ton to mine in this way, after the “stripping” has been done, or, in other words, after the ore has been laid bare. There are two other processes on the ranges where the ore is not so soft or so closely laid. One of these is the milling process, and the other is the blasting out of hard ore. Milling costs about thirty-five cents per ton, and the blasting process from one dollar to one dollar and twenty-five cents.
Down into these pits and along their edges run the tracks of the ore cars. There is very little shoveling and “picking” done by hand here. Steam shovels, weighing between sixty to seventy-five tons each, handle the work. Like a giant hand, one of these shovels dips into the soft mass of ore, buries its large dipper until it holds between four to eight tons, and then, groaning and rumbling, slowly lifts its load, swings it over a car, and that’s the real mining done. It repeats this operation a thousand times a day, lifting between three thousand to eight thousand tons of ore. One shovel keeps busy three locomotives and several trains of dump cars. There are nearly two hundred of these shovels in operation on the39 Mesaba range alone. It only costs about six cents a ton to mine this way, after the “stripping” has been done, or in other words, after the ore has been exposed. There are two other processes on the ranges where the ore is not as soft or as closely packed. One of these is the milling process, and the other is blasting out hard ore. Milling costs about thirty-five cents per ton, and the blasting process costs between one dollar to one dollar and twenty-five cents.
Why it has for some time been impossible to build ships too fast for the demand may most graphically be shown, perhaps, by quoting a few figures which demonstrate the tremendous energy now being exerted in the ore regions of the North. Figures as a usual thing are uninteresting, but these enter so vitally into the welfare of every American citizen that they should be regarded with more than ordinary respect. As stated before, we are now making nearly half of all the iron and steel produced on earth. In 1880, we made only 1,240,000 tons of steel; in 1890, this had increased to over 4,000,000; in 1900, to 10,188,000 tons, and in 1905, to 20,023,000 tons. Lake ships and Lake mines had to supply this. And now we come to mine figures which almost stagger belief. In 1904, the Mesaba range, for instance, yielded only a little over 12,000,000 tons. In the following year the production was nearly doubled, the ore carriers bringing down 20,153,699 tons, which in 1906 was increased to almost 24,000,000!
Why it's been impossible for a while to build ships fast enough to meet demand can be best illustrated by a few figures that show the incredible energy currently being put into the ore regions in the North. Usually, stats are pretty dull, but these figures are so important to the well-being of every American citizen that they deserve more than just casual attention. As mentioned earlier, we're now producing nearly half of all the iron and steel made on the planet. In 1880, we produced only 1,240,000 tons of steel; by 1890, that jumped to over 4,000,000; in 1900, it reached 10,188,000 tons, and by 1905, it soared to 20,023,000 tons. Lake ships and Lake mines had to provide this supply. Now, let's look at the mining figures that are almost hard to believe. In 1904, the Mesaba range produced just over 12,000,000 tons. The following year, production nearly doubled, with the ore carriers delivering 20,153,699 tons, which in 1906 was bumped up to almost 24,000,000!
40 This enormous annual tonnage of the Mesaba range, together with that of the other four ranges of the Superior region, is carried by rail directly from the mines to the great ore docks of Lake ports. The product of the Mesaba and Vermilion ranges, in Minnesota, is shipped from Duluth and Two Harbors; the eight million tons of the Goebic and Marquette ranges, in Michigan, from Escanaba and Marquette; and the five million tons of the Menominee range, in Wisconsin, from Ashland and Superior.
40 This huge annual output from the Mesaba range, along with that from the other four ranges in the Superior region, is transported by train straight from the mines to the major ore docks at the Lake ports. The products from the Mesaba and Vermilion ranges in Minnesota are shipped from Duluth and Two Harbors; the eight million tons from the Gogebic and Marquette ranges in Michigan are sent from Escanaba and Marquette; and the five million tons from the Menominee range in Wisconsin are shipped from Ashland and Superior.
To these six ports of the Northland come the vikings of the Lakes and their immense fleets. Four of these ports are within a radius of seventy-five miles, and the two others, in Michigan, are about one hundred and fifty miles farther east and south. No other area of lake or ocean in the world is as much travelled by shipping as that along which these ore harbours are situated. The people of Duluth have witnessed blockades of vessels such as have never been seen in the greatest ocean ports. Over this part of Superior there is a constant trail of smoke from the funnels of ships. During one month there were 1221 arrivals and clearances from Duluth alone, an average of forty a day.
To these six ports in the North come the Vikings of the Lakes and their massive fleets. Four of these ports are within seventy-five miles of each other, while the other two, located in Michigan, are about one hundred and fifty miles farther to the east and south. No other area of lake or ocean in the world has as much shipping traffic as the region where these ore harbors are found. The people of Duluth have seen blockades of vessels unlike anything in the busiest ocean ports. There’s a constant plume of smoke from the funnels of ships over this part of Lake Superior. In one month alone, there were 1,221 arrivals and departures from Duluth, averaging about forty a day.

Behind these great ships, which rest never a day nor an hour for eight months of the year, are the kings of Lake commerce—such men as J. C. Gilchrist, James Davidson, Captain Mitchell, William Livingstone, Harry Coulby, W. C. Richardson, A. B. Wolvin, G. Ashley41 Tomlinson, and scores of others. To write of these would be to chronicle a history of men who have fought their way to the top through sheer force of the “breed that is in them.”
Behind these massive ships, which don't rest for a single day or hour for eight months of the year, are the leaders of Lake commerce—people like J. C. Gilchrist, James Davidson, Captain Mitchell, William Livingstone, Harry Coulby, W. C. Richardson, A. B. Wolvin, G. Ashley41 Tomlinson, and many others. Writing about them would mean telling the story of individuals who have worked their way to the top through the sheer determination of their spirit.
Take G. Ashley Tomlinson, of Duluth, for instance, whose ships carry a couple of million tons of ore a year. “Not a great record,” as Mr. Tomlinson modestly says, but still enough to supply every man, woman, and child in the United States with a little matter of fifty pounds each twelvemonth! In a novel Tomlinson would make an ideal soldier of fortune; in plain, matter-of-fact life he represents those elements which make the great men of the Lakes. He is forty years old. He has sixteen ships. His income is over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year.
Take G. Ashley Tomlinson from Duluth, for example, whose ships transport a couple of million tons of ore each year. “Not a great record,” as Mr. Tomlinson humbly puts it, but still enough to provide every man, woman, and child in the United States with about fifty pounds each year! In a novel, Tomlinson would be the perfect adventure-seeker; in real life, he embodies the qualities that create the great figures of the Lakes. He is forty years old. He owns sixteen ships. His income exceeds one hundred and fifty thousand dollars annually.
Yet Tomlinson began, as did many other Great Lake men of to-day, with just two assets—the clothes on his back and a huge ambition. He started his career as a messenger boy in the State treasurer’s office at Lansing, Michigan. But there was not enough of the strenuous life in this for him, so he went West to become a cowboy. He succeeded, much to his regret; for soon after he had mastered the broncho and could handle a lasso there came the war between the cowboys and the White River Utes. In one of the fights Tomlinson was wounded and afterward captured by the redskins. During the whole of one night he was subjected to torture, and at dawn of the following day, when almost at the point of death, he was delivered42 by a party of ranchmen. Tomlinson was not one to display the white feather—but he had had enough of Western life, and as soon as possible he worked himself from Rawlins, Wyoming, to Chicago on a cattle train. After a time he came to Michigan, and with his savings attended the University of Michigan for about a year. This was enough of “higher education” for him, so he sold his text-books and went to work on the Detroit Journal at the munificent salary of six dollars a week. Newspaper work was all right until Buffalo Bill came along. Tomlinson joined the show, rode a bucking broncho for a year, then “developed” a voice and cast his fortunes with the Mapleson Opera Company. In 1889, he went to New York as a reporter on the Sun, returned the following year to become night editor of the Detroit Tribune, and in 1893 moved to Duluth.
Yet Tomlinson started, like many other Great Lakes men today, with just two things— the clothes on his back and a big dream. He kicked off his career as a messenger boy in the State treasurer’s office in Lansing, Michigan. But that wasn’t intense enough for him, so he headed West to become a cowboy. He succeeded, much to his regret; soon after he learned to ride a bronco and handle a lasso, the war broke out between the cowboys and the White River Utes. During one of the fights, Tomlinson was injured and later captured by the Native Americans. He endured torture all night, and at dawn the next day, when he was near death, he was rescued by a group of ranchers. Tomlinson wasn’t one to back down—but he had had enough of Western life, and as soon as he could, he made his way from Rawlins, Wyoming, to Chicago on a cattle train. After a while, he returned to Michigan, and with his savings, he attended the University of Michigan for about a year. That was enough “higher education” for him, so he sold his textbooks and went to work at the Detroit Journal for the amazing salary of six dollars a week. Newspaper work was fine until Buffalo Bill came along. Tomlinson joined the show, rode a bucking bronco for a year, then “developed” a voice and decided to work with the Mapleson Opera Company. In 1889, he moved to New York as a reporter for the Sun, returned the next year to become night editor of the Detroit Tribune, and in 1893, he relocated to Duluth.

The Main Slip in the Harbour of Conneaut.
The Main Slip in the Harbor of Conneaut.
Conneaut is the second largest ore-receiving port on the Lakes.
Conneaut is the second largest port for receiving ore on the Great Lakes.
The Lakes began to hold a peculiar fascination for him. He went into the vessel brokerage business mostly on his nerve; but nerve made him money, and his capital began to grow. How fast it has grown during the past dozen years one must judge by his ships and his income. He is president of five steamship companies, vice-president of another, secretary to three more, and a director in the American Exchange Bank, of Duluth, and the Cananea Central Copper Company. He has developed from a typical adventurer of fortune into one of the great men of the Lakes. His romantic career is described here because43 it is illustrative of the fact that brain and brawn, not “pull” and money, have made the vikings and iron barons of the Inland Seas. No millionaires’ sons here, living on their fathers’ prestige—no blue-blooded drones in these regions of the five little seas, where only red blood counts!
The Lakes started to really intrigue him. He got into the vessel brokerage business mostly on guts; but that guts made him money, and his capital began to increase. To see how quickly it has grown over the last twelve years, you just have to look at his ships and his income. He’s the president of five steamship companies, vice-president of another, secretary for three more, and a director at the American Exchange Bank in Duluth and the Cananea Central Copper Company. He has transformed from a typical fortune seeker into one of the significant figures of the Lakes. His adventurous journey is shared here because43 it shows that brains and hard work, not connections and wealth, have built the vikings and iron barons of the Inland Seas. There are no rich kids here living off their fathers’ fame—no aristocratic slackers in these areas of the five little seas, where only real grit matters!
When the first ships of the season come up from the South in April or May nearly a million and a half tons of ore are awaiting them in the docks of the ore-shipping ports. There are twenty-six of these ore docks, one of which, at Duluth, has a storage capacity of ninety-six thousand tons. From a distance these docks look like great trestles, from fifty to one hundred feet above the water, some of them running for nearly half a mile out into the lake. Out upon these docks run the cars from the mines. From these cars the ore is dropped into huge pockets, from which run downward long chutes, or spouts. A ten-thousand-ton carrier runs alongside. Her hatches are opened. Into each hatch runs a chute. The chute “doors” are opened, and with a dull, rumbling, rushing sound the ore pours down by force of gravity from the huge pockets above. At dock No. 4, Duluth, 9277 tons were put aboard the steamer E. J. Earling in seventy minutes, being at the rate of 7988 tons an hour. The rapidity with which Lake transportation is carried on is shown in the fact that upon this occasion the Earling was in port only two hours and fifteen minutes before she began her thousand-mile return trip eastward.
When the first ships of the season arrive from the South in April or May, almost one and a half million tons of ore are ready for them at the ore-shipping ports. There are twenty-six of these ore docks, one of which, in Duluth, can hold up to ninety-six thousand tons. From a distance, these docks look like large trestles, standing fifty to one hundred feet above the water, with some extending nearly half a mile out into the lake. Trains from the mines run out onto these docks. From these trains, the ore is dropped into massive pockets, from which long chutes or spouts lead downward. A ten-thousand-ton carrier pulls up alongside. Her hatches are opened. A chute runs into each hatch. The chute “doors” open, and with a dull, rumbling sound, the ore flows down by gravity from the massive pockets above. At dock No. 4 in Duluth, 9,277 tons were loaded onto the steamer E. J. Earling in seventy minutes, which is an impressive rate of 7,988 tons per hour. The speed of Lake transportation is highlighted by the fact that on this occasion, the Earling was in port for only two hours and fifteen minutes before she began her thousand-mile journey back east.
44 And now comes the last important phase. One viewing the continuous activity at the mines, the building up of cities on the ranges, and the tremendous interests represented in the great shipping ports may forget that this is but one end of the gigantic industry which makes the United States the steel-maker for the world. At the other end of the fresh-water highways is seen the other half of the picture. Down into Erie come the ships from the North. A few of them go to Chicago, but only a few. Out of a total movement of thirty-seven million tons, in 1906, thirty-two million tons were received at Lake Erie ports. There are eleven of these “receiving ports”—Toledo, Sandusky, Huron, Lorain, Cleveland, Fairport, Ashtabula, Conneaut, Erie, Buffalo, and Tonawanda.
44 And now we reach the final important phase. If you observe the constant activity at the mines, the growth of cities in the mountains, and the immense interests represented by the major shipping ports, you might overlook that this is just one side of the vast industry that makes the United States the steel producer for the world. At the other end of the fresh-water highways, you can see the other half of the picture. Ships from the North come into Erie. A few of them go to Chicago, but only a small number. Out of a total movement of thirty-seven million tons in 1906, thirty-two million tons were received at Lake Erie ports. There are eleven of these "receiving ports"—Toledo, Sandusky, Huron, Lorain, Cleveland, Fairport, Ashtabula, Conneaut, Erie, Buffalo, and Tonawanda.

Between these cities there is a constant battle for prestige. Now one leads in tonnage received, now another. At the present time the bitterest rivalry exists between Cleveland, Ashtabula, and Conneaut, the three greatest ore ports in the world. In 1901, Ashtabula led. In 1902, Cleveland bore away the “pennant,” with Ashtabula and Conneaut second and third. Cleveland was still ahead in 1903, but in 1904, Conneaut became the greatest ore-receiving port in the world. In 1905, Ashtabula had again won the ascendency, and in 1906, she maintained her prestige, receiving in that year 6,833,352 tons; Cleveland was second, and Conneaut third. Lorain, Fairport, Ashtabula, Conneaut, and Erie practically exist because45 of the ore which comes down from the northern mines. Seven million dollars are now being expended in the improvement of Ashtabula harbour by the Lake Shore and Pennsylvania railroad companies, and the capacity of the harbour has been doubled since 1905. With the improvement of that harbour Conneaut’s greatest advantage will be gone, for until a comparatively recent date nearly all of the largest vessels went to that port. The tremendous activity in Ashtabula must be seen to be fully appreciated. In one day lately almost four thousand ore and coal cars were moved between that port and Youngstown.
Between these cities, there's a constant fight for prestige. One city leads in tonnage received, then another takes the lead. Right now, the toughest rivalry is between Cleveland, Ashtabula, and Conneaut, the three largest ore ports in the world. In 1901, Ashtabula was the leader. In 1902, Cleveland claimed the “pennant,” with Ashtabula and Conneaut in second and third place. Cleveland remained on top in 1903, but in 1904, Conneaut became the biggest ore-receiving port globally. In 1905, Ashtabula regained the lead, and in 1906, she held her position, receiving 6,833,352 tons that year; Cleveland was second, and Conneaut was third. Lorain, Fairport, Ashtabula, Conneaut, and Erie basically exist because of the ore that comes down from the northern mines. Seven million dollars is currently being invested in improving Ashtabula harbor by the Lake Shore and Pennsylvania railroad companies, and the harbor's capacity has doubled since 1905. With the improvement of that harbor, Conneaut will lose its biggest advantage, as until recently, nearly all of the largest vessels went to that port. The incredible activity in Ashtabula has to be seen to be fully appreciated. Recently, almost four thousand ore and coal cars were moved between that port and Youngstown in just one day.
At this end of the great ore industry the wonderful mechanism for the handling of cargoes is even more astonishing than that of the Northland. The ore carrier is run under a huge unloading machine which thrusts steel arms down into the score or more hatches of the vessel, and without the assistance of human hands the cargo is emptied so quickly that the uninitiated observer stands mute with astonishment. How quickly this work is done is shown in the record of the George W. Perkins, which discharged 10,346 tons at Conneaut in four hours and ten minutes.
At this end of the huge ore industry, the amazing machinery for handling cargo is even more impressive than that of the Northland. The ore carrier is positioned under a massive unloading machine that extends steel arms down into the dozens of hatches of the ship, and without any human help, the cargo is unloaded so quickly that a first-time observer is left speechless. The speed of this operation is highlighted by the record of the George W. Perkins, which unloaded 10,346 tons at Conneaut in just four hours and ten minutes.
Once more, after this unloading, the steel monster of the Lakes is all but ready for her long journey into the North. Within a few hours she is reloaded, with a few sonorous blasts of her whistle she bids a last adieu, and again she is off on the long trail that leads to the “ugly wealth” in the ore ranges of Superior.
Once again, after this unloading, the steel giant of the Lakes is almost ready for her long trip up North. In just a few hours, she’s reloaded, and with a few powerful blasts of her whistle, she says a final goodbye, and she's off again on the long route that leads to the “ugly wealth” in the ore ranges of Superior.
Not long ago I went to see William Livingstone, President of the Lake Carriers’ Association—Great Admiral, in a way, of the world’s mightiest fleet of steel—an enrolled navy of 593 ships and a tonnage of nearly one million nine hundred thousand. Unconsciously I had come to call this man the Grey Man and the Man who Knows. Both titles fit, as they will tell you from the twin Tonawandas to Duluth. For six consecutive years president of the greatest organisation of its kind on earth, an association of ships made up, if weighed, of half of the iron and steel floating on the Inland Seas, he has become a part of Lake history. I sought him for an idea. I found it.
Not long ago, I went to meet William Livingstone, the President of the Lake Carriers’ Association—kind of the Great Admiral of the world’s biggest fleet of steel—made up of 593 ships and nearly 1.9 million tons of weight. Without realizing it, I'd started calling this man the Grey Man and the Man who Knows. Both names are spot on, as anyone from the twin Tonawandas to Duluth will tell you. For six years in a row, he has been the president of the largest organization of its kind on the planet, representing a fleet that includes half of the iron and steel on the Inland Seas. He has become part of Lake history. I went to him for an idea. I found it.
The Grey Man was at his desk studying over the expenditure of a matter of several millions of dollars for a new canal at the “Soo.” He turned slowly—grey suit, grey tie, grey eyes, grey beard, grey hair—all beautifully blended. He seldom speaks first. He is always fighting to be courteous, yet the days are ten hours too short for him.
The Grey Man was at his desk reviewing the spending on a multi-million dollar project for a new canal at the “Soo.” He turned slowly—grey suit, grey tie, grey eyes, grey beard, grey hair—all perfectly coordinated. He rarely speaks first. He’s always trying to be polite, yet the days are ten hours too short for him.
47 “I want a new idea,” I opened bluntly. “I want something new in marine—something that will make people sit up and take notice, as it were. Can you help me?”
47 “I want a fresh idea,” I said directly. “I’m looking for something innovative in marine—something that will really grab people’s attention. Can you assist me?”
He swung slowly about in his chair until his eyes rested upon a picture on the wall. It was a picture of the old days on the Lakes. My eyes, too, rested on the old picture. It reminded me of things, and I kept pace with the thoughts that might be his. I saw him, more than half a century before, the stripling son of a ship’s carpenter, swimming in the shadows of the big fore-’n’-afters that were monarchs before steam came—glorious days when ninety-eight per cent. of vessels carried sail, and sailors dispensed law with their fists and bore dirks in their bootlegs. Later I saw the proud moment of his first trip to “sea”—and then, quickly, I noted his rise: his saving dollar by dollar until he bought an interest in a tug, his monopolisation of it later, his climb—up—up—until——
He turned slowly in his chair until his eyes landed on a picture on the wall. It was an image of the old days on the Lakes. My eyes also focused on the old picture. It brought back memories, and I kept up with the thoughts that might be his. I saw him, more than fifty years ago, the young son of a shipbuilder, swimming in the shadows of the large sailing ships that ruled before steam engines—great days when ninety-eight percent of vessels had sails, and sailors enforced their own rules with their fists and carried knives in their boots. Then I recalled the proud moment of his first trip to “sea”—and quickly, I observed his progress: saving money bit by bit until he bought a stake in a tugboat, taking it over completely later, his rise—up—up—until——
“I’m busy, very busy!” he broke in quietly. “But say, did you ever think of this? Did you ever build a city of the lumber we carry each year, populate that city, feed it with the grain we carry, and warm it with our coal? You can do it on paper and you will be surprised at what you find. It will show you more graphically than anything else just what the ships carry. Try it. You’ll be interested.”
“I’m really busy, super busy!” he interrupted softly. “But have you ever thought about this? Have you ever imagined a city built with the lumber we transport every year, filled with people, sustained by the grain we carry, and heated with our coal? You can sketch it out on paper, and you might be amazed by what you discover. It will clearly show you the true cargo of the ships. Give it a try. You’ll find it interesting.”
I have kept that idea warm. Now I am going to48 use it. For probably in no better way can the immensity of the lumber, grain, coal, flour, and package freight traffic of the Great Lakes be given. Imagine, then, this “City of the Five Great Lakes.” We will build it, we will people it, feed it, and heat it—and our only material, with the exception of its inhabitants, will be the cargoes of the Lake carriers for a single season. And these carriers? If you should stand at the Lime Kiln Crossing, in the Detroit River, one would pass you on an average every twelve minutes, day and night, during the eight months of navigation; and when you saw their number and size you would wonder where they could possibly get all of their cargoes. The cargoes with which we will deal in this article will be of lumber, grain, flour and coal, for these, with iron ore, constitute over ninety per cent. of the commerce of the Inland Seas.
I’ve been holding onto that idea. Now I’m going to48 use it. There’s probably no better way to show just how vast the lumber, grain, coal, flour, and packaged freight traffic of the Great Lakes really is. Picture this “City of the Five Great Lakes.” We will build it, populate it, feed it, and keep it warm—and our only materials, aside from its residents, will be the cargoes from the Lake carriers for one season. And those carriers? If you stood at Lime Kiln Crossing in the Detroit River, one would pass by you on average every twelve minutes, day and night, for the eight months of navigation; and when you see how many and how large they are, you’ll marvel at where they get all their cargoes. The cargoes we’ll discuss in this article will be lumber, grain, flour, and coal, as these, along with iron ore, make up over ninety percent of the commerce on the Inland Seas.

To build our city we first require lumber. During the 1909 season of navigation about 1,500,000,000 feet of this material will be carried by Lake ships. What this means it is hard to conceive until it is turned into houses. To build a comfortable eight-room dwelling, modern in every respect, requires about 20,000 feet of lumber, and when we divide a billion and a half by this figure we have 75,000 homes, capable of accommodating a population of about 400,000 people. With the thousands of tons of building stone transported by lake each year, the millions of barrels of cement, the cargoes of shingles, sand, and brick, our49 “City of the Lakes” for 1909 would be as large as Buffalo, Cleveland, or Detroit.
To build our city, we first need lumber. During the 1909 navigation season, about 1,500,000,000 feet of this material will be transported by lake ships. It's hard to grasp what that means until it's turned into homes. To construct a comfortable eight-room house, modern in every way, requires about 20,000 feet of lumber. When we divide a billion and a half by this number, we get 75,000 homes, which can hold around 400,000 people. With the thousands of tons of building stone shipped by lake each year, the millions of barrels of cement, and the cargoes of shingles, sand, and brick, our 49 “City of the Lakes” for 1909 would be as big as Buffalo, Cleveland, or Detroit.
But one does not begin fully to comprehend the significance of the enormous commerce of the Great Lakes, and what it means not only to this country but to half of the civilised world, until he begins to figure how long the grain which will be carried by ships during the present year would support this imaginary city of 400,000 adult people. There will pass through the “Soo” canals this year at least 90,000,000 bushels of wheat and 60,000,000 bushels of other grain, besides 7,500,000 barrels of flour, all of which represents the “bread stuff” that is shipped from Lake Superior ports alone. There will, in addition, be shipped by lake at least 50,000,000 bushels from Chicago, Milwaukee, and other ports whose eastbound commerce is not reported at the “Soo.” In short, estimating conservatively from the past four years, it is safe to say that at least 200,000,000 bushels of grain and 11,000,000 barrels of flour will have been transported by the Great Lakes marine by the end of this year’s season of navigation.
But you don’t really grasp the significance of the massive shipping trade on the Great Lakes, and what it means not just for this country but for half of the civilized world, until you start to think about how long the grain carried by ships this year could support a fictional city of 400,000 adults. This year, at least 90,000,000 bushels of wheat and 60,000,000 bushels of other grains, along with 7,500,000 barrels of flour, will pass through the “Soo” canals, all representing the “bread stuff” shipped from Lake Superior ports alone. Additionally, at least 50,000,000 bushels will be shipped by lake from Chicago, Milwaukee, and other ports whose eastbound shipping isn’t reported at the “Soo.” In short, based on the last four years, it’s safe to say that by the end of this year’s navigation season, at least 200,000,000 bushels of grain and 11,000,000 barrels of flour will have been transported by the Great Lakes shipping industry.
But what do these figures mean? They seem top-heavy, unwieldly, valuable perhaps to the scientific economist, but of small interest to the ordinary everyday eater of bread. Let us reduce this grain to flour. It takes from four and a half to five bushels of grain for a barrel of flour and dividing by the larger figure our grain would give us 40,000,000 barrels, which,50 plus the 11,000,000, would make a total of 51,000,000 barrels. Now we come right down to dinner-table facts. At least 250 one-pound loaves of bread can be made from each 196-pound barrel of flour, or a total of 12,750,000,000 from the whole, which would mean at least five loaves for every man, woman, and child of the two and one half billion people who inhabit this globe! In other words, figuring from the reports of food specialists, the grain and flour carried by the ships of the Lakes for one year would give the total population of the earth a food supply sufficient to keep it in life and health for a period of two weeks!
But what do these numbers really mean? They seem complicated and heavy, probably useful to the analytical economist, but of little interest to the average bread eater. Let’s break this grain down into flour. It takes about four and a half to five bushels of grain to make a barrel of flour, and using the larger estimate, our grain would produce 40,000,000 barrels, which, 50 plus the 11,000,000, would result in a total of 51,000,000 barrels. Now we get to real dinner-table numbers. You can make at least 250 one-pound loaves of bread from each 196-pound barrel of flour, which totals 12,750,000,000 loaves from all of it. That means at least five loaves for every man, woman, and child among the two and a half billion people on this planet! In other words, according to reports from food experts, the grain and flour carried by the ships of the Great Lakes in one year would provide enough food to sustain the entire population of the earth for two weeks!
This enormous supply of the staff of life would give each of the 400,000 bread-eating people in our “City of the Lakes” a half-pound a day for one hundred and seventy-five years, or it would supply a city of the size of Chicago with bread for fifty years! To each of the 60,000,000 bread-eaters in the United States it would give 212 one-pound loaves, or, with an allowance of half a pound for each person per day, it would feed the nation for one year and two months!
This massive supply of the staff of life would provide each of the 400,000 bread-eating residents in our "City of the Lakes" with half a pound a day for one hundred and seventy-five years, or it could feed a city the size of Chicago with bread for fifty years! For each of the 60,000,000 bread-eaters in the United States, it would offer 212 one-pound loaves, or, if we allow half a pound per person each day, it could feed the entire nation for one year and two months!
Now, having built our city, peopled it, and supplied it with food, we come to the point of heating it. In 1907, there were transported by Lake nearly 15,000,000 tons of coal, and this year another million will probably be added to that figure. Here again mere figures fail to tell the story. But when we come to divide this coal among the homes of a city like Cleveland, Detroit, or Buffalo, which rank with our 75,000-home “City51 of the Lakes,” we again come to an easy understanding. Each of these 75,000 home-owners would receive as his share over 213 tons of coal, and if he burned six tons each winter this would last him for thirty-five years!
Now that we've built our city, populated it, and provided it with food, we arrive at the need to heat it. In 1907, almost 15,000,000 tons of coal were transported by Lake, and this year we will likely add another million to that total. Yet again, numbers alone don't tell the whole story. But when we look at how this coal is divided among the homes of a city like Cleveland, Detroit, or Buffalo, which are comparable to our 75,000-home “City51 of the Lakes,” it becomes clearer. Each of these 75,000 homeowners would get over 213 tons of coal as their share, and if they used six tons each winter, it would last them for thirty-five years!
In a nutshell, there is enough lumber and other material carried by Lake ships each year to build a city the size of Detroit; there is enough grain transported to supply its 400,000 inhabitants with bread-stuffs for a period of one hundred and seventy-five years, conceding the total population of the city to be adults; and enough coal is shipped from Erie ports into the North to heat the homes in this city for thirty-five years!
In short, every year, Lake ships carry enough lumber and other materials to build a city the size of Detroit; there's enough grain transported to feed its 400,000 residents with bread for 175 years, assuming the entire population is made up of adults; and enough coal is shipped from Erie ports to the North to heat the homes in this city for 35 years!
When one knows these facts, when perhaps for the first time in his life he is brought to a realisation of the enormous proportions of the commerce of the Inland Seas, he may, and with excellent excuse, believe that he has reached the limit of its interest. But as a matter of fact he has only begun to enter upon its wonders, and the farther he goes the more he sees that economic questions which have long been mysteries to him are being unravelled by the Great Lakes of the vast country in which he lives.
When someone understands these facts, perhaps for the first time in their life, they come to realize the huge scale of trade on the Inland Seas. They might, understandably, think they've hit the peak of its significance. But in reality, they've only just begun to explore its marvels, and the deeper they delve, the more they find that economic questions that once puzzled them are being clarified by the Great Lakes in the vast country where they live.
“Because of the ships of our Inland Seas,” James A. Calbick, late President of the Lumber Carriers’ Association, said to me, “the people of the United States, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Rocky Mountains, and as far south as Kentucky and Tennessee,52 have been able to build the cheapest homes in the world—and the best,” and this assertion, which can be proved in several different ways, brings us at once to the lumber traffic as it exists on the Lakes to-day.
“Thanks to the ships of our Inland Seas,” James A. Calbick, former President of the Lumber Carriers' Association, told me, “people in the United States, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Rocky Mountains, and as far south as Kentucky and Tennessee,52 have been able to build the most affordable homes in the world—and the best.” This statement, which can be validated in several ways, leads us directly to the current state of the lumber trade on the Lakes.
Going through almost any one of the Eastern and Central States one will find thousands of old sheds and barns, travelling the road to ruin through age alone, though built of the best of pine and oak—materials of a quality which cannot be found in the best of modern homes in this year of 1909. For ten years past the price of lumber has been steadily climbing, and since 1900 the increase in the cost of building construction has brought lumber to a par with brick. While the commerce of the Lakes is increasing by tremendous bounds in other ways, people are now, perhaps unknowingly, witnessing the rapid extinction of one of their oldest and most romantic branches of traffic—the lumber industry; and each year, as this industry comes nearer and nearer to its end, the price of lumber climbs higher and higher, home-owners become fewer in comparison with other years, and fleets and lumber companies go out of existence or direct their energies into other channels.
Traveling through almost any of the Eastern and Central States, you'll find thousands of old sheds and barns slowly falling apart simply due to age, despite being built from high-quality pine and oak—materials you won't find in the best modern homes in 1909. Over the past ten years, lumber prices have been steadily rising, and since 1900, the cost of building construction has made lumber as expensive as brick. While trade on the Lakes is booming in many ways, people are perhaps unknowingly witnessing the quick decline of one of their oldest and most romantic industries—the lumber industry. Each year, as this industry gets closer to disappearing, lumber prices keep rising, there are fewer homeowners compared to previous years, and fleets and lumber companies either shut down or shift their focus elsewhere.

Scooping up Ore from the Mahoning Mine at Hibbing.
Scooping up ore from the Mahoning Mine in Hibbing.
The largest open pit mine in the world.
The biggest open-pit mine in the world.
To Lake people it is pathetic, this death of the lumber fleets of the Inland Seas. An old soldier who had sailed on a lumber hooker since the days of the Civil War once said to me, “They’re the Grand Army of the Lakes—are those old barges and schooners, and53 they’re passing away as fast as we old fellows of the days of ’61.” To-day no vessels are built along the Lakes for the carrying of lumber. Scores of ancient “hookers” and picturesque schooners of the romantic days of old are rotting at their moorings, and when a great steel leviathan of ten thousand tons passes one of these veterans the eyes of her crew will follow it until only her canvas remains above the horizon.
To people who live by the Lakes, it’s sad to see the lumber fleets of the Inland Seas disappear. An old soldier who had worked on a lumber ship since the Civil War once told me, “Those old barges and schooners are the Grand Army of the Lakes, and they’re fading away just like us old guys from ’61.” Nowadays, no new boats are built on the Lakes for transporting lumber. Many old “hookers” and charming schooners from the romantic past are decaying at their docks, and when a massive steel ship of ten thousand tons sails past one of these veterans, the crew’s eyes will follow it until only its sails are visible on the horizon.
Yet from the enormous quantity of lumber which will be transported by Lake during the present year, one would not guess that the great fleet which will carry it is fast nearing the end of its usefulness in this way. In every lumbering camp along the Lakes, in the great forests of Minnesota, and in the wilderness regions of Canada, unprecedented effort has been expended in securing “material” because of the high prices offered, and the result has been something beyond description. Recently I passed through the once great lumbering regions of the Lakes to see for myself what I had been told. Michigan is stripped; the “forest” regions of Georgian Bay are scrub and underbrush; for hundreds of square miles around Duluth the axe and the saw have been ceaselessly at work, though there is still a great deal of timber land in the northern part of the State. In the vast lumber regions of a decade ago, once lively and prosperous towns have become almost depopulated. Scores of lumbering camps are going to rot and ruin; saw-mills are abandoned to the elements, and in places where lumbering54 is still going on, timber is greedily accepted which a few years ago would have been passed by as practically worthless. A few years more and the picture of ruin will be complete. Then the lumber traffic on the Great Lakes will virtually have ceased to be, the old ships will be gone, and past forever will be the picturesque life of the lumberjack and those weather-beaten old patriarchs who, since the days of their youth, have been “goin’ up f’r cedar ’n’ pine.”
Yet from the massive amount of lumber being transported by the Lakes this year, you wouldn’t guess that the large fleet doing the shipping is quickly approaching the end of its usefulness. In every lumber camp along the Lakes, in the vast forests of Minnesota, and in the wild regions of Canada, incredible effort has been put into gathering “material” because of the high prices, resulting in something beyond description. Recently, I traveled through the once-thriving lumber areas of the Lakes to see for myself what I had been told. Michigan is bare; the “forest” regions of Georgian Bay are just scrub and underbrush; for hundreds of square miles around Duluth, the axe and the saw have been nonstop, although there’s still a lot of timber land in the northern part of the State. In the once-bustling lumber regions of a decade ago, lively and prosperous towns have nearly emptied out. Many lumber camps are falling into decay; sawmills are left to the elements, and in areas where lumbering54 is still happening, timber that would have been considered practically worthless a few years ago is now eagerly accepted. In a few more years, the image of ruin will be complete. Then the lumber trade on the Great Lakes will almost cease, the old ships will be gone, and the picturesque life of the lumberjack and those weathered old patriarchs who have, since their youth, been “going up for cedar and pine” will be a thing of the past.

But even in these last days of the lumber industry on the Lakes the figures are big enough to create astonishment and wonder, and give some idea of what that industry has been in years past. Take the Tonawandas, for instance—those two beautiful little cities at the foot of Lake Erie, a few miles from Buffalo. Lumber has made these towns, as it has made scores of others along the Lakes. They are the greatest “lumber towns” in the world, and estimating from the business of former years there will be carried to them by ship in 1909 between 300,000,000 and 400,000,000 feet of lumber. In 1890, there entered the Tonawandas 718,000,000 feet, which shows how the lumber traffic has fallen during the last nineteen years. It is figured that about 10,000,000 feet of lumber, valued at $200,000, is lost each year from aboard vessels bound for the “Twin Cities.” In 1905, the vessels running to the Tonawandas numbered 300; this year their number will not exceed55 250—another proof of the rapidly failing lumber supply along America’s great inland waterways.
But even in these final days of the lumber industry on the Lakes, the numbers are impressive enough to inspire astonishment and give some idea of what that industry has been in years past. Take the Tonawandas, for example—those two charming little cities at the foot of Lake Erie, just a few miles from Buffalo. Lumber has built these towns, just like it has built many others along the Lakes. They are the largest “lumber towns” in the world, and based on the business from previous years, they will receive between 300,000,000 and 400,000,000 feet of lumber by ship in 1909. In 1890, 718,000,000 feet of lumber entered the Tonawandas, highlighting how much the lumber traffic has declined over the past nineteen years. It's estimated that about 10,000,000 feet of lumber, valued at $200,000, is lost each year from ships heading to the “Twin Cities.” In 1905, there were 300 vessels operating to the Tonawandas; this year, that number won't exceed55 250—another indication of the rapidly diminishing lumber supply along America’s major inland waterways.
“This talk of a lumber famine is all bosh,” I was informed with great candour a short time ago. “Look at the great forests of Washington and Oregon! Think of the almost limitless supply of timber in some of the Southern States! Why, the stripping of the Lake States ought not to make any difference at all!”
“This talk about a lumber shortage is just nonsense,” I was told frankly a little while ago. “Look at the vast forests in Washington and Oregon! Consider the almost endless supply of timber in some of the Southern States! Honestly, the deforestation in the Lake States shouldn’t make any difference at all!”
There are probably several million people in this country of ours who are, just at the present moment, of the above opinion. They have never looked into what I might call the “economy of the Lakes.” A few words will show what part the Lakes have played in the building of millions of American homes. At this writing it cost $2.50 to bring a thousand feet of lumber from Duluth to Detroit aboard a ship. It costs $5.50 to bring that same lumber by rail! Conceding that this year’s billion and a half feet of lumber will be transported a distance of seven hundred miles, the cost of Lake transportation for the whole will be about $3,750,000. The cost of transportation by rail of this same lumber would be at least $7,500,000, or as much again! Now what if you, my dear sir, who live in New York, had to have the lumber for your house carried fourteen hundred miles instead of seven, or three thousand miles, from Washington State? To-day your lumber can be brought a thousand miles by water for $3 per thousand feet; by rail it would cost you $7! And this, with competition playing a tremendous part in the game.56 When lumber is gone from the Lake regions, will our philanthropic railroads carry this material as cheaply as now, when for eight months of the year they face the bitter rivalry of our Great Lakes marine?
There are probably several million people in this country who currently think the same way. They’ve never looked into what I’d call the “economy of the Lakes.” A few points will illustrate the role the Lakes have played in the construction of millions of American homes. Right now, it costs $2.50 to ship a thousand feet of lumber from Duluth to Detroit by boat. By rail, that same lumber costs $5.50! Assuming that this year’s billion and a half feet of lumber travels seven hundred miles, the total cost for Lake transportation will be about $3,750,000. The rail cost for transporting that same lumber would be at least $7,500,000—double! Now, what if you, my dear sir, living in New York, had to have your lumber shipped fourteen hundred miles instead of seven, or three thousand miles from Washington State? Today, you can have lumber transported a thousand miles by water for $3 per thousand feet; by rail, it would cost you $7! And this is all with competition playing a huge role in the market.56 When the lumber is gone from the Lake regions, will our generous railroad companies transport it as cheaply as they do now, when for eight months each year they face intense competition from our Great Lakes shipping?
“When the time comes that there is no more lumber along the Lakes, what will be the result?” I asked Mr. Calbick, the late President of the Lumber Carriers’ Association. He replied:
“When the time comes that there is no more lumber along the Lakes, what will be the result?” I asked Mr. Calbick, the former President of the Lumber Carriers’ Association. He replied:
“Lumber will advance in price as never before. No longer will the frame cottage be the sign of the poor man’s home; no longer will the brick mansion be the manifestation of wealth. It will then cost much more to build a dwelling of wood than of brick or stone. The frame house will in time become the sign of aristocracy and means. It will pass beyond the poor man’s pocket-book, and while this poor man may live in a house of brick it will not be his fortune to live in a house of wood. That is what will happen when the lumber industry ceases along the Great Lakes.”
“Lumber prices will soar like never before. The frame cottage will no longer represent the home of the less fortunate; the brick mansion will no longer symbolize wealth. It will cost significantly more to build a wooden home than one made of brick or stone. Over time, the frame house will become a symbol of high social status and wealth. It will be out of reach for those with limited means, and while a poor person may live in a brick house, they won’t have the chance to live in a wooden one. That’s what will happen when the lumber industry declines along the Great Lakes.”

Then this great lumberman went on to say:
Then this great lumberjack went on to say:
“People are beginning to see, and each year they will see more plainly, how absolutely idiotic our State and National governments have been in not compelling forest preservation. For all the centuries to come Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota should be made to supply the nation with timber. In these three Lake States there are millions of acres of ideal forest land which is good for nothing else. Yet for at least half a century must these millions of acres now remain57 worthless. Nothing has been left upon them. They are “barrens” in the true sense of the word, and before forests are regrown upon them fifty or a hundred years hence, the greatest timber famine the world has ever seen will have been upon us for generations.”
“People are starting to realize, and every year they’ll see more clearly, how completely foolish our state and national governments have been for not enforcing forest preservation. For all the centuries to come, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota should be providing the nation with timber. In these three Lake States, there are millions of acres of perfect forest land that can’t be used for anything else. Yet for at least the next fifty years, these millions of acres will remain worthless. Nothing has been done with them. They are “barrens” in the truest sense of the word, and before forests can grow back on them in fifty or a hundred years, the greatest timber shortage the world has ever faced will have already impacted us for generations.”
Hardly could the significance of the passing of the lumber industry along our Inland Seas be appreciated without taking a brief glance into the past, to see what it has already done for the nation. There is now practically no white pine left in the State of Michigan—once the home of the greatest pine regions in the whole world. Michigan’s tribute to the nation has been enormous. For twenty years she was the leading lumber-producing State of the Union. As nearly as can be estimated, her forests have yielded 160,000,000,000 feet of pine, more than one hundred times the total amount of lumber that will be transported on the Lakes this year. These are figures which pass comprehension until they are translated into more familiar terms. This enormous production would build a board walk five feet wide, two inches thick, and three million miles long—a walk that would reach one hundred and twenty times around the earth at the equator; or it would make a plank way one mile wide and two inches thick that would stretch across the continent from New York to San Francisco! In other words, Michigan’s total contribution of pine would build ten million six-room dwellings capable58 of housing over half the present population of the United States.
It's hard to fully grasp the importance of the decline of the lumber industry along our Inland Seas without briefly looking back to see what it has contributed to the nation. There’s almost no white pine left in Michigan now—once home to some of the largest pine forests in the world. Michigan has given a huge amount to the nation. For twenty years, it was the leading lumber-producing state in the U.S. Estimates suggest that its forests have produced 160 billion feet of pine, which is over one hundred times the total amount of lumber that will be shipped on the Lakes this year. These numbers are hard to comprehend until we put them into more relatable terms. This vast amount of lumber could create a boardwalk five feet wide, two inches thick, and three million miles long—a path that would circle the Earth at the equator one hundred and twenty times; it could also make a plank pathway one mile wide and two inches thick that would stretch across the country from New York to San Francisco! In simpler terms, Michigan's total supply of pine could build ten million six-room houses, enough to accommodate over half of the current population of the United States.
As a consequence of this absolute spoliation of the forest lands, a large part of Michigan is now practically worthless. First, the lands were bought by lumbering companies; the timber was stripped—then came the tax-collector! But why pay taxes on worthless barrens, with only stumps and brush and desert sand to claim? So people forgot they owned them, and as a result one seventh of the State of Michigan is to-day on the delinquent tax list.
As a result of the complete destruction of the forest lands, a large part of Michigan is now essentially worthless. First, lumber companies bought the land; they stripped it of timber—then the tax collector showed up! But why pay taxes on useless wasteland, with nothing but stumps, brush, and sand left? So people forgot they even owned it, and now one-seventh of the State of Michigan is on the delinquent tax list.
Minnesota is going the way of Michigan. In 1906, there was cut in the Duluth district a total of 828,000,000 feet of white pine; but each year this production will become smaller, until in the not distant future there will be nothing for the lumber ships of the Lakes to carry. What this will mean to the home-builders of the nation can be shown in a few words. Previous to 1860, the Chicago man could buy 1000 feet of the best white pine for $14. To-day it costs him $80! What will it cost ten years hence?
Minnesota is heading down the same path as Michigan. In 1906, the Duluth area produced a total of 828,000,000 feet of white pine; but each year, this output will decrease until, in the not-too-distant future, there will be nothing for the lumber ships on the Lakes to transport. What this means for home builders across the country can be summed up in a few words. Before 1860, someone in Chicago could purchase 1000 feet of the best white pine for $14. Today, it costs him $80! What will it cost in ten years?

A Steam Shovel at Work.
A backhoe in action.
This removes from 4000 to 8000 tons of ore a day.
This removes between 4,000 and 8,000 tons of ore each day.
Already the centre of lumber production has swung from the North to the South. The yellow pine of Louisiana is now taking the place once filled by white pine, and at the rate it is being cut another decade will see that State stripped as clean as Michigan now is, and then the country’s last resort will be to turn to the Pacific coast with its forests of Douglas fir. And still, as though blindfolded to all sense and reason,59 almost every State government continues to look upon the fatal destruction without a thought for the future, though before us are facts which show that Americans are using nearly eight times as much lumber per capita as is used in Europe, and that the nation is consuming four times as much wood annually as is produced by growth in our forests.
Already, the center of lumber production has shifted from the North to the South. The yellow pine of Louisiana is now replacing the white pine that once dominated, and at the current rate of cutting, another decade will see that state stripped as completely as Michigan is now, after which the only option left will be to turn to the Pacific coast with its Douglas fir forests. Yet, as if blind to all sense and reason,59 nearly every state government continues to ignore the devastating destruction without considering the future, even though we have facts showing that Americans use nearly eight times as much lumber per person as is used in Europe, and that the nation consumes four times as much wood each year as what our forests can produce through growth.
Ten years more and the last of the romantic old lumber ships of the Inland Seas will have passed away; gone forever will be the picturesque life of those who have clung thus long to the fate of canvas and the four winds of heaven; and with it, too, will pass the remaining few of those old lumber kings who have taken from Michigan forests alone fifty per cent. more wealth than has been produced by all the gold mines of California since their discovery in 1849.
Ten more years and the last of the classic old lumber ships from the Inland Seas will be gone; the charming lifestyle of those who have held on for so long to the world of sails and the winds will disappear forever; along with it, the few remaining old lumber kings who have extracted from Michigan's forests fifty percent more wealth than all the gold mines in California have produced since they were discovered in 1849 will also fade away.
But in the place of this passing industry is rapidly growing another, the effect of which is already being felt over half of the civilised world, and which in a very few years from now will be counted the greatest and most important commerce in existence. The iron mines of the North may become exhausted, the little remaining forest of the Lake regions will fade away; but the grain trade will go on forever. Just as the Superior mines have produced cheap iron and steel, just as the Inland Seas have been the means of giving the nation cheap lumber, so will they for all time to come supply unnumbered millions with cheap bread. Like great links, they connect the vast grain-60producing West with the millions of the bread-consuming East. And not only do they control the grain traffic of the United States. To-day western Canada is spoken of as the future “Bread Basket of the World,” and over the Lakes will travel the bulk of its grain. Looking ahead for a dozen centuries, one cannot see where there can be a monopoly of grain transportation, either by railroad or ship. The water highways are every man’s property; a few thousand dollars—a ship—and you are your own master, to go where you please, carry what you please, and at any price you please. For all time, in the carrying of grain from field to mouth, the Great Lakes will prove themselves the poor man’s friend. To bring this poor man’s bushel of wheat over the one thousand miles from Duluth to Buffalo by Lake now costs only two cents.
But in place of this disappearing industry, a new one is rapidly emerging, the effects of which are already being felt across much of the civilized world, and in just a few years will be recognized as the biggest and most significant trade that exists. The iron mines in the North may get depleted, and the remaining forests in the Lake regions will vanish; however, the grain trade will endure forever. Just as the Superior mines have produced affordable iron and steel, and the Inland Seas have provided the country with inexpensive lumber, they will continually supply countless millions with cheap bread. Like huge links, they connect the vast grain-producing West to the millions consuming bread in the East. And they don’t just regulate the grain trade in the United States. Today, western Canada is referred to as the future “Bread Basket of the World,” and the majority of its grain will move across the Lakes. Looking ahead for centuries, it’s hard to imagine anyone monopolizing grain transport, whether by train or ship. The waterways belong to everyone; a few thousand dollars for a ship, and you can be your own boss, going wherever you want, carrying whatever you want, and charging whatever you want. For all time, when it comes to transporting grain from field to table, the Great Lakes will be the ally of the less fortunate. Currently, moving this poor man’s bushel of wheat the one thousand miles from Duluth to Buffalo by Lake costs only two cents.
And according to the predictions of some of the oldest ship-owners of the Lakes, the tremendous saving to the poor man because of the cheapness of Lake freightage is bound to increase in the not distant future. It must be remembered that at the present time ships are not built too fast for Lake demand, and as a consequence transportation rates, while exceedingly low when compared with rail rates, are such as to make fortunes each year for the owners of ships. Take the cargo of the B. F. Jones, for instance, delivered at Buffalo in October of 1906. She had on board 370,273 bushels of wheat which she had brought from Duluth at two and three fourths cents a bushel, making her61 four-day trip down pay to the tune of $7500! The preceding year one cargo of 300,000 bushels was brought down for six cents a bushel, a very extraordinary exception to the regular cheap rate—one of the exceptions which come during the last week or two of navigation. The freight paid on this cargo was $18,000. In other words, if this vessel had made but this one trip during the season the profit on the total investment of $300,000 represented by the ship would have been six per cent. There are on the Lakes vessels which pay from twenty to thirty per cent. a year, and an “ordinary earner” is supposed to run from ten to twenty.
And according to predictions from some of the oldest shipowners on the Lakes, the significant savings for the average person due to the low cost of Lake freight is expected to grow in the near future. It’s important to note that currently, ships are not being built quickly enough to meet Lake demand, and as a result, transportation rates, while extremely low compared to rail rates, still generate substantial profits each year for ship owners. For example, consider the cargo of the B. F. Jones, which was delivered in Buffalo in October 1906. She carried 370,273 bushels of wheat from Duluth at a rate of two and three-fourths cents per bushel, making her61 four-day trip net $7500! The previous year, a single cargo of 300,000 bushels was transported at six cents per bushel, which was quite an unusual exception to the regular low rate—one of the rare instances that occur in the last week or two of navigation. The freight for this cargo amounted to $18,000. In other words, if this vessel had only made this one trip during the season, the profit on the total investment of $300,000 represented by the ship would have been six percent. There are vessels on the Lakes that yield returns of twenty to thirty percent a year, and an “ordinary earner” is expected to range from ten to twenty percent.
In viewing these enormous profits, however, the layman has no cause for complaint, for the vessels that make them do so not to his cost, but from the rapidity with which they achieve their work. The W. B. Kerr is a vessel that can carry 400,000 bushels of wheat. Figure that she makes twenty trips a season. If she carried grain continually she would transport a total of 8,000,000 bushels in a single season, which would supply Chicago with bread for nearly a year and a half. And it is an interesting fact, too, that with few exceptions the ships of the Lakes are not owned by corporations, but by the American people. Their stock is held, not by thousands, but by hundreds of thousands. Recognised as among the best and safest investments in the United States, they are the property of farmers, mechanics, clerks, and62 other small investors, as well as of capitalists. Recently one of the largest shipbuilders on the Lakes said to me, “A third of the farmers in the Lake counties of Ohio have money invested in shipping.” Which shows that not only in the way of cheap transportation are the common people of the country profiting because of the existence of our Inland Seas. It may be interesting to note at this point that the tonnage shipped and received at Ohio ports in 1907 exceeded that of all the ports of France.
In light of these huge profits, the everyday person has no reason to complain, as the ships that generate them are not doing so at their expense, but because of how quickly they complete their work. The W. B. Kerr can carry 400,000 bushels of wheat. If we assume she makes twenty trips a season, she could transport a total of 8,000,000 bushels in one season, which would provide Chicago with bread for almost a year and a half. It's also interesting to note that, with few exceptions, the ships on the Great Lakes are not owned by corporations, but by the American public. Their shares are held not by thousands, but by hundreds of thousands. Recognized as some of the best and safest investments in the United States, they belong to farmers, tradespeople, office workers, and62 other small investors, as well as to wealthy individuals. Recently, one of the largest shipbuilders on the Lakes told me, “A third of the farmers in the Lake counties of Ohio have money invested in shipping.” This demonstrates that the general populace is benefiting not only from affordable transportation but also from the existence of our Inland Seas. It's worth mentioning that the tonnage shipped to and from Ohio ports in 1907 was greater than that of all the ports in France.
The rate at which the grain traffic of the Lakes is increasing is easily seen in the figures of the last few years. In 1905, over 68,000,000 bushels of wheat passed through the “Soo” canals. In 1906, this increased to more than 84,000,000, showing a growth in one year of 16,000,000 bushels, or 23 per cent. This rate of increase is not only being maintained, but it is becoming larger; and the grain men of the Lakes are unanimous in the opinion that even from the big increase of recent years cannot be figured the future grain business of the Inland Seas.
The rate of grain traffic on the Great Lakes is clearly visible in the statistics from recent years. In 1905, more than 68 million bushels of wheat passed through the "Soo" canals. By 1906, this number rose to over 84 million, reflecting an increase of 16 million bushels, or 23 percent, within just one year. This growth rate isn't just being sustained; it's actually getting bigger. Grain merchants on the Great Lakes all agree that even with the significant increases we've seen lately, the future grain business in the Inland Seas is still underestimated.
“Ten years more will see the American and Canadian Wests feeding the world,” a grain dealer tells me. “Within that time I look to see the wheat production of North America not only doubled, but trebled.”
“Ten more years will have the American and Canadian Wests feeding the world,” a grain dealer tells me. “In that time, I expect to see North America's wheat production not just doubled, but tripled.”

The Old and the New.
The Old and the New.
A modern freight carrier passing one of the old schooners.
A modern freight ship passing by one of the old schooners.
What western Canada is destined to mean to Lake commerce is already shown in marine figures. From Port Arthur and Fort William, the “twin cities” of Thunder Bay, were shipped in 1907 over 60,000,00063 bushels of grain, and it is safe to predict that the shipment of these two little cities will this year exceed 70,000,000 bushels. The largest elevator in the world, with a capacity of 7,500,000 bushels, has been constructed at Port Arthur; and Fort William already has a capacity of 13,000,000 bushels.
What western Canada is set to mean for Lake commerce is already evident in the shipping statistics. From Port Arthur and Fort William, the “twin cities” of Thunder Bay, more than 60,000,00063 bushels of grain were shipped in 1907, and it's a reasonable prediction that the shipments from these two small cities will surpass 70,000,000 bushels this year. The largest grain elevator in the world, with a capacity of 7,500,000 bushels, has been built at Port Arthur, while Fort William already has a capacity of 13,000,000 bushels.
And as yet the fertile regions of western Canada have hardly been touched! These 70,000,000 bushels of 1909 will represent part of the production, not of a nation, but of a comparatively few pioneers in what is destined to become the greatest grain-growing country in the world—a country connected with the East and the waterways to Europe by the Five Great Lakes. When the task now under way of widening and deepening the Erie Canal is accomplished, the enormous Lake traffic in grain may continue without interruption to the Atlantic coast. Even as it is, the transportation of grain from Buffalo to New York by canal is showing a phenomenal increase. The value of the freight cleared by canal from Buffalo in 1907 was nearly $19,000,000, while in 1905 it was less than $12,000,000.
And the fertile areas of western Canada have barely been developed! The 70 million bushels produced in 1909 represent not the output of a whole nation but rather the work of a relatively small group of pioneers in what is set to become the largest grain-producing region in the world—a region linked to the East and European waterways by the Five Great Lakes. Once the ongoing project to widen and deepen the Erie Canal is finished, the massive lake traffic in grain can flow uninterrupted to the Atlantic coast. Even now, the shipment of grain from Buffalo to New York by canal is experiencing an extraordinary increase. The freight value shipped by canal from Buffalo in 1907 was nearly $19 million, while in 1905 it was under $12 million.
Like the building of ships the building of elevators is now one of the chief occupations along the Lakes. The “grain age,” as vessel-men are already beginning to call it, has begun. In the four chief grain ports of the Lakes, Chicago, Duluth-Superior, Buffalo, and Port Arthur-Fort William, there are now 145 elevators with a capacity of 138,000,000 bushels. Chicago64 leads, with 83 elevators and a capacity of 63,000,000, although Duluth-Superior with their 27 elevators and 35,000,000-bushel capacity shipped half again as much grain to Buffalo in 1907 as did Chicago. Buffalo is the great “receiving port” of the lower Lakes. There vast quantities of grain are made into flour, and the rest is transhipped eastward. At present the city possesses 28 elevators with a capacity of 23,000,000 bushels.
Like shipbuilding, elevator construction is now one of the main industries along the Lakes. The “grain age,” as shipworkers are starting to call it, has begun. In the four main grain ports of the Lakes—Chicago, Duluth-Superior, Buffalo, and Port Arthur-Fort William—there are currently 145 elevators with a total capacity of 138,000,000 bushels. Chicago64 is at the top, with 83 elevators and a capacity of 63,000,000, although Duluth-Superior, with 27 elevators and a capacity of 35,000,000 bushels, shipped 50% more grain to Buffalo in 1907 than Chicago did. Buffalo serves as the major “receiving port” of the lower Lakes. There, large quantities of grain are processed into flour, and the rest is shipped eastward. Currently, the city has 28 elevators with a capacity of 23,000,000 bushels.
There is another potent reason why the passing of the lumber traffic and the future exhaustion of the iron mines do not trouble ship builders and owners. It has been asserted that when lumber and iron are gone there will no longer be business for all of the ships of the Lakes. How wrong this idea is has been shown by the growth of the grain trade. But grain will be only one item in the enormous commerce of the future. Each year the coal transportation business is growing, and the constantly increasing saving to coal consumers because of this commerce is astonishing. At one end of the Lakes are the vast coal deposits of the East; at the other is Duluth, the natural distributing point for a multitude of inland coal markets. Of the 16,000,000 tons of coal to be shipped by water this year probably 8,000,000 will go to Duluth, and will be carried a distance of one thousand miles for thirty-five cents a ton, just about what one would pay to have it shovelled from a waggon into his basement window! The remaining 8,000,000 tons will be unloaded at Chicago, Milwaukee, etc.
There’s another strong reason why the decline of lumber transportation and the eventual depletion of iron mines don’t worry shipbuilders and owners. People have claimed that once lumber and iron are gone, there won’t be any business left for all the ships on the Lakes. This notion has been proven wrong by the rise of the grain trade. But grain will be just one part of the massive commerce of the future. Each year, the coal transportation business is expanding, and the savings for coal consumers because of this trade are incredible. At one end of the Lakes are the huge coal deposits in the East; at the other is Duluth, the natural hub for many inland coal markets. Out of the 16,000,000 tons of coal to be transported by water this year, about 8,000,000 will be headed to Duluth, traveling a distance of one thousand miles for thirty-five cents a ton, which is about what someone would pay to have it shoveled from a wagon into their basement window! The other 8,000,000 tons will be unloaded in Chicago, Milwaukee, and other locations.
65 One of the most interesting sights to be witnessed along the Lakes is the loading and unloading of a big cargo of coal. The W. B. Kerr holds the record at this writing. She loaded 12,558 tons at Lorain for Duluth, and took on 400 tons of fuel in addition. Inconceivable as it may seem, such a cargo under good conditions can be loaded on a ship in from ten to fifteen hours. The vessel runs alongside the coal dock, her crew lifts anywhere from a dozen to twenty hatches, and the work begins. In the yards are hundreds of loaded cars. An engine quickly pushes one of these up an inclined track to a huge “lift,” or elevator, to the tracks of which the wheels of the car are automatically clamped. Then the car, with its forty or fifty tons of coal, scoots skyward, and when forty feet above the deck of the ship great steel arms reach out and turn it upside down. With a thunderous roar the coal rushes into a great chute, one end of which empties into a hatch. Then the car tips back, is quickly carried down by the elevator, and is “bumped off” by another loaded car, which goes through the same operation. Four or five days later, at the other end of the Lakes, powerful arms, high in the air, reach out over the open hatches of the same vessel. Out upon one of these arms suddenly darts a huge “clamshell” bucket; for a moment it poises above a hatch, then suddenly tumbles downward, its huge mouth agape, and half buries itself in the cargo of coal. As it is pulled up, the “jaws” of the clam are closed, and66 with it ascend several tons of fuel. Three or four of these clam-shells may be at work on a vessel at the same time, and can unload 10,000 tons in about two days. In the days of old, it would have taken three weeks and scores of men to unload such a cargo.
65 One of the most fascinating sights along the Lakes is the loading and unloading of a large cargo of coal. The W. B. Kerr currently holds the record. She loaded 12,558 tons at Lorain for Duluth and took on an additional 400 tons of fuel. As unbelievable as it sounds, such a cargo can be loaded onto a ship in just ten to fifteen hours, under good conditions. The vessel docks next to the coal terminal, her crew opens anywhere from a dozen to twenty hatches, and the process begins. In the yard, there are hundreds of loaded train cars. A locomotive quickly pushes one of these up an incline to a huge “lift” or elevator, where the wheels of the car are automatically clamped. Then the car, carrying its forty or fifty tons of coal, shoots upward, and when it’s about forty feet above the ship's deck, massive steel arms extend out and flip it upside down. With a booming sound, the coal rushes into a large chute, one end of which empties into a hatch. Then the car tips back, is swiftly lowered by the elevator, and is “bumped off” by another loaded car, which goes through the same process. Four or five days later, at the other end of the Lakes, powerful arms high in the air reach out over the open hatches of the same vessel. Suddenly, a huge “clamshell” bucket darts out from one of these arms; it hovers above a hatch for a moment before abruptly dropping, its massive mouth wide open, and half-buries itself in the coal. As it’s lifted, the “jaws” of the clam snap shut, bringing up several tons of fuel. Three or four of these clam-shells might be working on a vessel at the same time and can unload 10,000 tons in around two days. Back in the day, it would have taken three weeks and many workers to unload such a cargo. 66
“And in looking into the future we must take another item into consideration,” said President Livingstone to me. “And that is package freight. It is almost impossible to estimate the amount that is carried, but it is enormous, and has already saved the country millions in transportation.”
“And as we look to the future, we need to consider another factor,” President Livingstone said to me. “That’s package freight. It’s nearly impossible to estimate how much is being carried, but it’s huge and has already saved the country millions in transportation costs.”
There is one other “item” that is carried in the ships of the Inland Seas—not a very large one, judging by bulk alone, but one which shows that the possibilities of romance are not yet gone from modern commerce. Perhaps, sometime in the not distant future, you may have the fortune to see a Lake ship under way. She is long, and black, and ugly, you may say; she carries neither guns nor fighting men, nor is she under convoy of a man-o’-war. Yet it may be she carries a richer prize than any galleon that ever sailed the Spanish Main. She is a “treasure ship” of the Inland Seas, bringing down copper from the great Bonanzas of the North. The steamer Flagg holds the record, carrying down as she did in 1906 $1,250,000 worth of metal.
There’s one more “item” that’s transported in the ships of the Inland Seas—not very big, based on size alone, but it shows that the chances for romance aren’t totally gone from modern trade. Maybe, in the not-too-distant future, you’ll be lucky enough to see a Lake ship in action. She’s long, black, and not very attractive, you might say; she doesn’t carry guns or soldiers, nor is she escorted by a warship. Still, she may be carrying a more valuable prize than any galleon that ever crossed the Spanish Main. She’s a “treasure ship” of the Inland Seas, bringing down copper from the great Bonanzas of the North. The steamer Flagg holds the record, having transported $1,250,000 worth of metal in 1906.

Once a copper ship was lost——
Once a copper ship was lost—
But I will keep that story a little longer, for it67 properly belongs in “The Romance and Tragedy of the Inland Seas,” in which I pledge myself to show that the great salt oceans are not the only treeless and sandless wastes rich in mysterious, romantic, and tragic happenings.
But I’ll hold off on that story for a bit longer, because it67 really belongs in “The Romance and Tragedy of the Inland Seas,” where I promise to demonstrate that the vast salt oceans aren’t the only treeless and sand-free areas full of mysterious, romantic, and tragic events.
In a previous article I have shown how the saving to the people of the United States by reason of Great Lake freight transportation is more than five hundred million dollars a year, or, in other words, an indirect “dividend” to the nation of six dollars for every man, woman, and child in it. Yet in describing how this enormous saving was accomplished I touched upon but one phase of what I might term the “saving power” of the Lakes. To this must be added that dividend of millions of dollars which indirectly goes into the pockets of the people because of the cheapness of water transportation and because of the extraordinarily low cost at which one may enjoy, both afloat and ashore, the summer life of the Lakes. These two phases of Lake life are among the least known, and have been most neglected.
In a previous article, I showed how much the people of the United States save each year thanks to Great Lake freight transportation—over five hundred million dollars. That’s an indirect “dividend” of six dollars for every man, woman, and child in the country. However, while explaining how this massive saving was achieved, I only covered one aspect of the Lakes' “saving power.” We also need to consider the millions of dollars that indirectly benefit people through the affordability of water transportation and the incredibly low cost of enjoying summer life on and around the Lakes. These two aspects of Lake life are among the least understood and have received the least attention.

The “North West.”
The "Northwest."
One of the finest passenger steamers on the Great Lakes.
One of the best passenger ships on the Great Lakes.
At the same time, considering the health and pleasure as well as the profit of the nation, they are among the most important. To-day it is almost unknown outside of Lake cities that one may travel on the Inland Seas at less cost per mile than on any other waterway in69 the civilised world, and that the pleasure-seeker in New York, for instance, can travel a thousand miles westward, spend a month along the Lakes, and return to his home no more out of pocket than if he had indulged in a ten-day or two-week holiday at some seacoast resort within a hundred miles of his business. This might be accepted with some hesitancy by many were there not convincing figures behind the statements, figures which show that the Lakes are primarily the “poor man’s pleasure grounds” as well as his roads of travel, and that on them he may ride in company with millionaires and dine with the scions of luxury and fashion without overreaching himself financially. This has been called the democracy of the Lakes. And only those who have travelled on the Inland Seas or summered along their shores know what the term really means. It is a condition which exists nowhere else in the world on such a large scale. It means that what President Roosevelt describes as “the ideal American life” has been achieved on the Lakes; that the bank clerk is on a level, both socially and financially, for the time, with the bank president, with the same opportunities for pleasure and with the same luxuries of public travel within his reach. The “multi-millionaire” who boards one of the magnificent passenger steamers at Buffalo, Cleveland, Detroit, or Chicago, or any other Lake port, has no promenade decks set apart for himself and others of his class, as on ocean vessels; there are no first-, second-, and third-70class specifications, no dining-rooms for the especial use of aristocrats, no privileges that they may enjoy alone. The elect of fortune and fashion becomes a common American as soon as he touches a plank of a Lake vessel, rubs elbows with the everyday crowd, smokes his cigars in company with travelling men, rural merchants, and clerks, forgets himself in this mingling with people of red blood and working hands—and enjoys himself in the experience. It is a novel adventure for the man who has been accustomed to the purchase of exclusiveness and the service of a prince at sea, but it quickly shows him what life really is along the five great waterways that form the backbone of the commerce of the American nation.
At the same time, considering the health, enjoyment, and profit of the nation, they are among the most important. Today, it is almost unknown outside of lakeside cities that you can travel on the Inland Seas at a lower cost per mile than on any other waterway in69 the civilized world. For example, a pleasure-seeker in New York can travel a thousand miles west, spend a month along the Lakes, and return home without spending any more money than if they had taken a ten-day or two-week vacation at some beach resort within a hundred miles of their job. This might be hard to believe for many if there weren't convincing statistics to back it up, which show that the Lakes are primarily the “poor man’s pleasure grounds” and travel routes, where he can mingle with millionaires and dine with people of wealth and style without breaking the bank. This has been referred to as the democracy of the Lakes. Only those who have traveled on the Inland Seas or spent summers along their shores truly understand what this means. It’s a condition that doesn’t exist anywhere else in the world on such a large scale. It signifies that what President Roosevelt describes as “the ideal American life” has been realized on the Lakes; where a bank clerk stands on equal footing, both socially and financially, with the bank president, sharing the same opportunities for enjoyment and the same luxuries of public travel. The “multi-millionaire” who boards a splendid passenger steamer at Buffalo, Cleveland, Detroit, Chicago, or any other Lake port has no exclusive decks reserved for him and others of his class, as seen on ocean liners. There are no first-, second-, or third-70 class distinctions, no dining rooms for the exclusive use of the elite, no privileges that they can enjoy alone. Once a fortunate individual steps onto a Lake vessel, they become an ordinary American, mingling with the everyday crowd, sharing cigars with traveling businessmen, rural merchants, and clerks, losing themselves in this blend of people from all walks of life—and enjoying the experience. It’s a unique adventure for someone used to exclusivity and the luxury of private service at sea, but it quickly shows them what life is really like along the five great waterways that form the backbone of American commerce.
This is why the passenger traffic of the Inland Seas is distinctive, why it is the absolute antithesis of the same traffic on the oceans. If a $2,000,000 floating palace were to be launched upon the Lakes to-morrow and its owners announced that social and money distinctions would be recognised on board, the business of that vessel would probably be run at a loss that would mean ultimate bankruptcy. It is an experiment which even the wealthiest and most powerful passenger corporations on the Lakes have not dared to make, though they have frequently discussed it. A score of passenger traffic men have told me this. It is a splendid tribute to the spirit of independence and equality that exists on these American waters.
This is why passenger traffic on the Inland Seas is unique, completely different from the same traffic on the oceans. If a $2,000,000 luxury yacht were to be launched on the Lakes tomorrow and the owners announced that social and financial hierarchies would be recognized on board, that vessel would likely end up losing money, leading to eventual bankruptcy. It’s an experiment that even the wealthiest and most influential passenger companies on the Lakes haven’t dared to attempt, despite having discussed it many times. A number of passenger traffic experts have told me this. It’s a fantastic testament to the spirit of independence and equality present in these American waters.

And there is a good reason for this spirit. In 1907,71 sixteen million passengers travelled on Lake vessels and of these it is estimated that less than five hundred thousand were foreign tourists or pleasure-seekers from large Eastern cities. In other words, over fifteen million of these travellers were men and women of the Lake and central Western States, where independence and equality are matters of habit. Twelve million were carried by vessels of the Eighth District, which begins at Detroit and ends at Chicago, while only three and a half million were carried in the Ninth District, including all Lake ports east of the Detroit River. From these figures one may easily get an idea of the class of people who travel on the Lakes, and at the same time realise to what an almost inconceivable extent our Inland Seas are neglected by the people of many States within short distances of them. Astonishing as it may seem, nearly eight million passengers were reported at Detroit in 1907—as many as were reported at all other Lake ports combined, including great cities like Buffalo, Cleveland, and Chicago. These millions were drawn almost entirely from Michigan and Ontario, with a small percentage coming from Indiana, Ohio, and Kentucky. Ninety per cent. of the Chicago traffic of two million was from Illinois, Indiana, and Wisconsin, while of the three and a half million carried east of the Detroit River, from Erie and Ontario ports, fully two thirds were residents of Ohio and Pennsylvania. At Buffalo, which draws upon the entire State of New York and72 upon all States east thereof, there were reported only a million passengers! To sum up, figures gathered during the year show that fully ninety per cent. of all travel on the Inland Seas is furnished by the States of Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, western New York, western Pennsylvania, and northern Kentucky.
And there’s a good reason for this trend. In 1907,71 sixteen million passengers traveled on Lake vessels, and it’s estimated that less than five hundred thousand were foreign tourists or pleasure-seekers from big Eastern cities. In other words, over fifteen million of these travelers were men and women from the Lake and central Western States, where independence and equality are just part of daily life. Twelve million were carried by vessels in the Eighth District, which starts at Detroit and ends at Chicago, while only three and a half million were transported in the Ninth District, which includes all Lake ports east of the Detroit River. From these numbers, it’s easy to see the type of people who travel on the Lakes and also realize how astonishingly neglected our Inland Seas are by people from many nearby States. Surprisingly, nearly eight million passengers were reported at Detroit in 1907—about the same number that were reported at all other Lake ports combined, including major cities like Buffalo, Cleveland, and Chicago. These millions mostly came from Michigan and Ontario, with a small percentage from Indiana, Ohio, and Kentucky. Ninety percent of the Chicago traffic of two million came from Illinois, Indiana, and Wisconsin, while of the three and a half million carried to the east of the Detroit River, from Erie and Ontario ports, about two-thirds were residents of Ohio and Pennsylvania. At Buffalo, which serves the entire State of New York and72 all States to the east, there were reported only a million passengers! In conclusion, data collected during the year shows that about ninety percent of all travel on the Inland Seas comes from the States of Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, western New York, western Pennsylvania, and northern Kentucky.

Why is this? Why are the most beautiful fresh-water seas in the whole world neglected by their own people? Why is it that from the single city of Boston there travel by water two million more people than on all of the Lakes combined, which number on their shores the second largest city on the continent and four others well up in the front rank? I have asked this question of steamship companies in a dozen ports along the Lakes, and from them all I have received practically the same reply. There is a man in Detroit who has been in the passenger traffic business for more than a quarter of a century. I refer to A. A. Schantz, general manager of the largest passenger business on the Lakes. He was managing boats at the age of twenty, he has studied the business for thirty years, and he hits the nail squarely on the head when he says: “It’s because people don’t know about the Lakes. For generations newspapers and magazines have talked ocean to them. They know more about Bermuda and the Caribbean than they do about Mackinaw and the three thousand islands of Lake Huron. The people of three States out of four73 are better acquainted with steamship fares to London and Liverpool than to Duluth or Chicago; they have been taught to look to the oceans and ocean resorts, and to-day the five Great Lakes of America are more foreign, so far as knowledge of them is concerned, than either the Atlantic or the Pacific.”
Why is this? Why are the most beautiful freshwater lakes in the world overlooked by their own people? Why do two million more people travel by water from the single city of Boston than on all the Lakes combined, which have the second largest city on the continent and four others ranking high? I've asked this question to steamship companies at several ports along the Lakes, and consistently received the same response. There's a guy in Detroit who has been in the passenger traffic business for over twenty-five years. I'm talking about A. A. Schantz, the general manager of the largest passenger operation on the Lakes. He started managing boats at twenty, has studied the industry for thirty years, and he really gets it when he says: “It’s because people don’t know about the Lakes. For generations, newspapers and magazines have focused on the ocean instead. They know more about Bermuda and the Caribbean than they do about Mackinaw and the three thousand islands of Lake Huron. People in three out of four states 73 are more familiar with steamship fares to London and Liverpool than to Duluth or Chicago; they’ve been taught to look towards the oceans and ocean resorts, and today the five Great Lakes of America are more foreign, in terms of knowledge, than either the Atlantic or the Pacific.”
This is true. When Admiral Dewey made his triumphal journey through the Inland Seas even he found himself constantly expressing astonishment at what he saw and heard. It is so with ninety-nine out of every hundred strangers who come to them. Think, for instance, of travelling from Detroit to Buffalo, a distance of two hundred and sixty miles, for $1.25!—less than half a cent a mile! I recently told a Philadelphia man who has been to Europe half a dozen times about this cheap travel, and he laughingly asked, “What kind of tubs do you have on the Lakes that can afford to carry passengers at these ridiculous rates?”
This is true. When Admiral Dewey took his amazing journey through the Inland Seas, he often expressed surprise at what he saw and heard. This is the case for ninety-nine out of every hundred visitors who come here. Just think about traveling from Detroit to Buffalo, a distance of two hundred and sixty miles, for $1.25!—that's less than half a cent a mile! I recently told a guy from Philadelphia, who has been to Europe six times, about this cheap travel, and he laughed and asked, “What kind of boats do you have on the Lakes that can afford to carry passengers at these ridiculous rates?”
Well, there is one particular “tub” which offers this cheap transportation once a week, which cost a little over a million and a quarter dollars! Every bit of woodwork in the parlours, promenades, and dining-rooms is of Mexican mahogany. It carries with it a collection of oil paintings which cost twenty-five thousand dollars. Every one of four hundred state-rooms is equipped with a telephone and there is a telephone “central,” so that passengers may converse with one another or with the74 ship’s officers without leaving their berths. There are reading-rooms, and music-rooms, and writing-rooms, magnificently upholstered and furnished; and on more than one of these Lake palaces passengers may amuse themselves at shuffle-board, quoits, and other games which fifty millions of Americans believe are characteristic only of ocean craft. Another of these “tubs”—the Eastern States—broke Lake records in 1907 by berthing and feeding fifteen hundred people on a single trip; and the new City of Cleveland will accommodate two thousand without crowding.
Well, there’s one particular “tub” that provides this affordable transportation once a week, costing just over a million and a quarter dollars! Every bit of the woodwork in the lounges, promenades, and dining rooms is made of Mexican mahogany. It comes with a collection of oil paintings valued at twenty-five thousand dollars. Each of the four hundred state rooms is equipped with a telephone, and there’s a central phone system, so passengers can chat with each other or with the ship’s officers without leaving their cabins. There are reading rooms, music rooms, and writing rooms, all magnificently decorated and furnished; and on more than one of these Lake palaces, passengers can have fun playing shuffleboard, quoits, and other games that fifty million Americans think are exclusive to ocean vessels. Another one of these “tubs”—the Eastern States—set Lake records in 1907 by docking and serving fifteen hundred people on a single trip; and the new City of Cleveland can host two thousand guests without overcrowding.
Notwithstanding the extreme cheapness of their rates of transportation, Lake passenger vessels constantly vie with one another in maintaining a high standard of appearance and comfort. This is illustrated in the interesting case of the City of St. Ignace, which was built a number of years ago at a cost of $375,000. Since that time, in painting, decorating, refurnishing, etc., and not including the cost of broken machinery or expense of crew, nearly $500,000 have been spent in the maintenance of this vessel, a sum considerably greater than her original cost. A Government law says that thirty per cent. of the cost of a vessel must be expended in this kind of maintenance before that particular boat can change its name. The City of St. Ignace could have changed her name four times! And the case of the St. Ignace is only one of many.
Despite the very low transportation rates, Lake passenger vessels continuously compete with each other to maintain a high standard of appearance and comfort. This is exemplified by the City of St. Ignace, which was built several years ago for $375,000. Since then, nearly $500,000 has been spent on painting, decorating, refurbishing, and other maintenance costs, not including expenses for broken machinery or the crew, which is significantly more than the original cost of the vessel. A government regulation states that thirty percent of a vessel's cost must be spent on maintenance before it can change its name. The City of St. Ignace could have changed its name four times! And the situation with the St. Ignace is just one of many.

Hickory Island at the Mouth of Detroit River.
Hickory Island at the entrance of the Detroit River.
From a Photograph by Manning Studio, Detroit.
From a photo by Manning Studio, Detroit.
I have gone into these facts with some detail for75 the purpose of showing that the extreme cheapness of travel and living along the Lakes does not signify a loss of either comfort or luxury. In few words, it means that the Lakes, as in all other branches of their industries, are agents of tremendous saving to the nation at large in this one; and that, were the pleasure-seekers and travellers of the country to become better acquainted with them, the annual “dividend” earned in freight transportation would be doubled by passenger traffic. The figures of almost any transportation line on the Lakes will verify this. Last year, for instance, one line carried two hundred thousand people between Detroit and Cleveland. The day fare between these points is one dollar, the distance 110 miles. Estimating that four fifths, or one hundred and sixty thousand, of these passengers travelled by day, their total expense would be $160,000. By rail the distance is 167 miles, and the fare $3.35, making a total railway fare of $536,000. These figures show that one passenger line alone, and between just two cities, saved the travellers of the country $376,000 in 1908. The saving between other points is in many instances even greater. Once each week one may go by water from Detroit to Buffalo, or from Buffalo to Detroit, a distance of 260 miles, for $1.25, while the rail rate is seven dollars; and at any time during the week, and on any boat, the fare is only $2.50. These low rates prevail, not only in localities, but all over the Lakes. The tourist may board a Mackinaw boat at any time in76 Cleveland, for instance, travel across Lake Erie, up the Detroit River, through Lake St. Clair and Lake Huron, and back again—a round trip of nearly one thousand miles—at an expense of ten dollars. The round trip from Detroit to Mackinaw, which gives the tourist two days and two nights aboard ship and a ride of six hundred miles, costs eight dollars. The rail fare is $11. At a ticket expense of less than twenty-five dollars one may spend a whole week aboard a floating palace of the Lakes and make a tour of the Inland Seas that will carry him over nearly three thousand miles of waterway, his meal service at the same time being as good and from a third to a half as expensive as that of a first-class hotel ashore. Excursion rates, which one may take advantage of during the entire season, are even less, frequently being not more than half as high as those given above.
I have provided detailed information about these facts for75 to demonstrate that the very low costs of traveling and living around the Lakes don't mean sacrificing comfort or luxury. In short, this means that the Lakes, like all other sectors of their industry, are significant contributors to national savings in this area. If more vacationers and travelers in the country became familiar with them, the annual “dividend” from freight transportation would double with the addition of passenger traffic. The statistics from almost any transportation line on the Lakes will confirm this. For example, last year, one line transported two hundred thousand people between Detroit and Cleveland. The daytime fare for this route is one dollar, covering a distance of 110 miles. Assuming that four-fifths, or one hundred and sixty thousand, of these passengers traveled during the day, their total expense would amount to $160,000. In contrast, the distance by rail is 167 miles, and the fare is $3.35, leading to a total railway fare of $536,000. These figures indicate that a single passenger line, connecting just two cities, saved travelers $376,000 in 1908. The savings when traveling to other locations are often even greater. One can travel by water from Detroit to Buffalo, or vice versa, a distance of 260 miles, for $1.25 once a week, while the train fare is seven dollars; any day of the week, on any boat, the fare is only $2.50. These low rates apply not just in certain areas, but throughout the Lakes. For instance, tourists can board a Mackinaw boat at any time in76 Cleveland, travel across Lake Erie, up the Detroit River, and through Lake St. Clair and Lake Huron, returning for a round trip of nearly one thousand miles for just ten dollars. The round trip from Detroit to Mackinaw, which allows tourists two days and two nights on the ship and spans six hundred miles, costs eight dollars, compared to a rail fare of $11. For less than twenty-five dollars, one can enjoy an entire week aboard a luxurious floating hotel on the Lakes and tour the Inland Seas, covering nearly three thousand miles of waterways, with meal service that is just as good and costs one-third to one-half less than at a first-class hotel on land. Excursion rates, available throughout the season, are even lower, often being half the prices mentioned above.
When one becomes acquainted with these facts it is easy for him to understand the truth of Mr. Schantz’s statement that “people don’t know about the Lakes.” If they did, the annual passenger traffic on them would be thirty million instead of sixteen; and, instead of an estimated saving of ten million dollars to the people because of Lake passenger ships, the “dividend” that thus goes into their pockets would be twice that amount.
When you learn these facts, it’s clear why Mr. Schantz said that “people don’t know about the Lakes.” If they did, the yearly passenger traffic would reach thirty million instead of sixteen; and instead of saving an estimated ten million dollars due to Lake passenger ships, the “dividend” that ends up in their pockets would be double that amount.

The “City of Erie.”
The "City of Erie."
The fastest steamer on the Lakes, holding a record of 22.93 miles per hour.
The quickest steamer on the Lakes, with a record speed of 22.93 miles per hour.
Foreign shipbuilders as well as Americans along the seacoasts frankly concede that vessel-building on the Lakes has developed into a science which is equalled77 nowhere else in the world, evidence of which I have offered in a former article. This is true of passenger ships as well as of freighters, and the strongest proof of this fact lies in the almost inconceivably small loss of life among travellers on the Lakes. There was a time when the marine tragedies of the Inland Seas were appalling, and if all the ships lost upon them were evenly distributed there would be a sunken hulk every half-mile over the entire thousand-mile waterway between Buffalo and Duluth. But those days are gone. Lake travel has not only become the cheapest in the world, but the safest as well. The figures which show this are of tremendous interest when compared with other statistics. Of the sixteen million men, women, and children who travelled on Lake passenger ships in 1907, only three were lost, or one out of every 5,300,000. Two of these were accidentally drowned, and the third met death by fire. The percentage of ocean casualties is twelve times as great, and of the eight hundred million people who travelled on our railroads during 1906 approximately one out of every sixty thousand was killed or injured.
Foreign shipbuilders and Americans along the coasts openly agree that shipbuilding on the Great Lakes has become a science unmatched anywhere else in the world, as I previously mentioned in another article. This applies to both passenger ships and cargo vessels, and the best evidence of this is the surprisingly low loss of life among travelers on the Lakes. There was a time when the maritime disasters of the Great Lakes were horrifying, and if all the ships lost were scattered evenly, there would be a sunken wreck every half-mile along the entire thousand-mile waterway between Buffalo and Duluth. But those days are behind us. Traveling on the Lakes is not only the cheapest in the world but also the safest. The statistics are incredibly interesting when compared to others. Of the sixteen million men, women, and children who traveled on Lake passenger ships in 1907, only three were lost, which is one out of every 5,300,000. Two of these were accidental drownings, and the third was due to a fire. The casualty rate at sea is twelve times higher, and of the eight hundred million people who traveled by train in 1906, about one out of every sixty thousand was killed or injured.
To the great majority of our many millions of people the summer life of the Lakes is as little known as the passenger traffic. And, if possible, it offers even greater inducements, especially to those who wish to enjoy the pleasures of an ideal summer outing and who can afford to spend but a very small sum of money. Notwithstanding this fact, the shores and78 countless islands of the Great Lakes are taken advantage of even less than their low transportation rates. Only a few of the large and widely-advertised resorts receive anything like the patronage of seacoast pleasure grounds. If a person in the East or West, for instance, plans to spend a month somewhere along the Lakes, about the only information that he can easily obtain is on points like Mackinaw Island: popular resorts which are ideal for the tourist who wishes to pass most of his time aboard ship, or who, in stopping off at these more fashionable places, is not especially worried about funds.
For most of our millions of people, the summer life around the Lakes is as unknown as the passenger traffic. And, if anything, it offers even more incentives, especially for those who want to enjoy the perfect summer getaway but have a limited budget. Despite this, the shores and 78 numerous islands of the Great Lakes are far less frequented than their low transportation costs would suggest. Only a handful of the popular, heavily-promoted resorts see anything close to the visitors that seacoast vacation spots do. For instance, if someone in the East or West plans to spend a month at the Lakes, the most accessible information is usually about places like Mackinaw Island: trendy resorts perfect for tourists who prefer to spend most of their time on a ship, or who, when stopping at these more upscale locations, aren't especially concerned about their finances.
It is not of such isolated places as the great resorts that I shall speak first. They play their part, and an important one, in the summer life of the Lakes; but it is to another phase of this life, one which is almost entirely unknown, that I wish to call attention. The man who does not have to count the contents of his pocket-book when he leaves home will find his holiday joys without much trouble. But how about the man who works for a small salary, and who with his restricted means wishes to give his wife and children the pleasures of a real vacation? What about the men and women and children who look forward for weeks and months, and who plan and save and economise, sometimes hopelessly, that somewhere they may have two weeks together, free from the worry and care and eternal grind of their daily life? It is to such people as these, unnumbered thousands of them, that the79 Lakes should call—and loudly. And it is to such as these that I wish to describe the astonishing conditions which now exist along thousands of miles of our Great Lakes coast line—conditions which, were they generally known, would attract many million more people to our Inland Seas next year than will be found there during the present summer.
It’s not the large resorts that I want to talk about first. They definitely play a significant role in the summer experience of the Lakes, but my focus is on a different aspect of this life, one that’s mostly unknown. The person who doesn’t have to worry about his budget when he leaves home will find plenty of ways to enjoy his holiday. But what about the person who works for a modest salary, who wants to give his wife and kids a genuine vacation within his limited means? What about the men, women, and children who look forward for weeks or even months, who plan, save, and cut back—sometimes in vain—just so they can spend two weeks together, free from the worries and stresses of their daily lives? It’s for these people, countless thousands of them, that the79 Lakes should reach out—and loudly. And it's for them that I want to share the amazing opportunities that currently exist along thousands of miles of our Great Lakes shoreline—opportunities that, if better known, could draw millions more people to our Inland Seas next year than will be there this summer.
“But where shall I go?” asks the man who is planning a vacation, and who may live two or three hundred miles away from the nearest of the Great Lakes. He is perplexed, and with good cause. He has spent other vacations away from home and generally speaking he knows what a hold-up game ordinary summer-resort life is. But he need not fear this on the Lakes. All that he has to do in order successfully to solve this problem of “where to go” is to get a map, select any little town or village situated on the fresh-water sea nearest to him, or three or four of them, for that matter, and write to the postmasters. They can turn the communications over to some person who will interest himself to that extent. Say, for instance, that you write to the little port of Vermilion, on Lake Erie. Your reply will state that “Shattuck’s Grove would be a nice place for you to spend your holidays; or you may go to Ruggles’ Grove, half a dozen miles up the beach; or you can get cheap accommodations, board and room for three or four dollars a week apiece, at any one of a hundred farmhouses80 that look right out over the lake.” In fact, it is not necessary for you to write at all. When you are ready to leave on your vacation, when your trunk is ready and the wife and children all aglow with eagerness and expectancy—why, start. Go direct to any one of these little Lake towns. Within a day after arriving there, or within two days at the most, you will be settled. I have passed nearly all of my life along the Lakes, and have travelled over every mile of the Lake Erie shore; I have gone from end to end of them all, and I do not know of a Lake town that does not possess in its immediate vicinity what is locally known as a “grove.” A grove, on the Lakes, means a piece of woods that the owner has cleared of underbrush, where the children may buy ice-cream and candy, where there are plenty of swings, boats, fishing-tackle, and perhaps a merry-go-round, and where the pleasure-seeker may rent a tent at almost no cost, buy his meals at ridiculously low prices and live entirely on the grounds, or board with some farmer in the neighbourhood. A “grove,” in other words, is what might be called a rural resort, a place visited almost entirely by country people and the residents of neighbouring towns, and where one may fish, swim, and enjoy the most glorious of all vacations for no more than it would cost him to live at home, and frequently for less.
“But where should I go?” asks the man planning a vacation, who might live two or three hundred miles from the closest Great Lake. He's confused, and rightfully so. He has spent other vacations away from home and generally knows how slow the typical summer-resort experience can be. But he doesn’t need to worry about that at the Lakes. To figure out “where to go,” all he has to do is grab a map, pick a small town or village along the nearest freshwater lake, or even a few of them, and write to the postmasters. They will pass his requests on to someone who will be willing to help. For example, if you contact the little port of Vermilion on Lake Erie, you might get a reply suggesting that “Shattuck’s Grove would be a great spot for your holiday; or you could check out Ruggles’ Grove, just six miles up the beach; or you can find affordable accommodations, including room and board, for three or four dollars a week at any number of farmhouse options80 that overlook the lake.” In fact, you don’t even need to write anything. When you’re ready to leave for your vacation—when your suitcase is packed and your wife and kids are filled with excitement—just go. Head straight to any of these little lakeside towns. Within a day or two of arriving, you’ll be all set up. I’ve spent most of my life by the Lakes and have traveled every mile of the Lake Erie shoreline; I’ve been to every one of them, and I can confidently say that every Lake town has what locals call a “grove” nearby. A grove, at the Lakes, is a wooded area that the owner has cleared out, where kids can buy ice cream and candy, featuring plenty of swings, boats, fishing gear, and maybe even a merry-go-round. A pleasure-seeker can rent a tent for almost nothing, buy meals at crazy low prices, and live completely on-site or stay with a local farmer. In other words, a “grove” is basically a rural getaway, frequented mostly by country folks and residents from nearby towns, where you can fish, swim, and enjoy an amazing vacation for about the same cost as living at home, and often for less.

Little Venice, St. Clair River.
Little Venice, St. Clair River.
Showing the type of “Inns,” where people may pass their holidays at small expense.
Showing the kind of "Inns" where people can spend their vacations for a low cost.
Courtesy of Northern Steamship Co.
Thanks to Northern Steamship Co.
There are many hundreds of these “groves” along the Lakes, unknown to all but those who live near81 them. Only on occasion of Sunday-school picnics or Fourth of July celebrations are they crowded. They are the most ideal of all places in which to spend one’s holidays, if rest and quiet recreations are what the pleasure-seeker desires. And these groves are easily found. I do not believe there is a twenty-mile stretch along Lake Erie that does not possess its grove, and sometimes there are a dozen of them within that distance. I know of many that are not even situated near villages, being five or six miles away and patronised almost entirely by farmers. In almost any one of them a family may enjoy camp life if they wish, buy their supplies of neighbouring farmers, do their own cooking, rent a good boat for from twenty-five to fifty cents a day, and get other things at a corresponding cost. I am personally acquainted with one family of four who came from Louisville to one of these sylvan resorts on Lake Huron last year, and the total expense of their three weeks’ vacation, not including railroad fare, was under fifty dollars. The experience of these parents and their children is not an exception. It is a common one with those who are acquainted with the Lakes and who know how to take advantage of them to their own profit.
There are hundreds of these “groves” along the lakes, known only to those who live nearby81. They’re only crowded during Sunday school picnics or Fourth of July celebrations. These groves are the perfect spots for spending holidays if you’re looking for rest and low-key activities. They’re easy to find, too. I don’t think there’s a twenty-mile stretch along Lake Erie that doesn’t have its own grove, and often there are a dozen within that distance. I know many aren’t even close to villages; some are five or six miles away and mainly visited by farmers. In almost any of them, a family can enjoy camping if they want to, buy supplies from local farmers, cook for themselves, rent a decent boat for twenty-five to fifty cents a day, and get other things at similar prices. I personally know a family of four who came from Louisville to one of these wooded getaways on Lake Huron last year, and their total expense for three weeks of vacation, excluding train fares, was under fifty dollars. The experience of these parents and their kids isn’t unusual. It’s common for those who are familiar with the lakes and know how to make the most of them.

There is another phase of Lake life, a degree removed from that which I have described, which is also unknown beyond its own local environment and which ought to be made to be of great profit and pleasure to those seeking holiday recreation along82 our Inland Seas. The shores of the Lakes, from end to end, are literally dotted with what might appropriately be called lakeside inns—places located far from the dust and noise and more fashionable gaiety of crowded resorts and cities, where one may enjoy all of the simpler pleasures of water-life for from six to eight dollars a week. This price includes room, board, boats, fishing-tackle, and other accommodations. At most of these places the board is superior to that which one secures at the large resorts. Fish, frogs’ legs, and chickens play an important part in the bill of fare, and almost without exception they are placed upon the table in huge dishes, heaped with fresh viands from the kitchen as soon as they become empty. The fish cost the innkeepers nothing, for they are mostly caught by the pleasure-seekers themselves; frogs usually abound somewhere in the immediate vicinity, and where the landlord does not raise his own fowls they are purchased from neighbouring farmers. The inn is a local market for butter, eggs, celery, and vegetables of all kinds, so it is not difficult to understand why the board at these places is superior to almost any that can be found in a city. I have no doubt that if these lakeside inns were generally known they would be so crowded that life would not be worth living in them. But they are not known and as a consequence are running along in their old-fashioned way, sources of unrivalled summer joy to those who have been fortunate enough to discover them. At many83 of these inns only a dollar a day is charged, all accommodations included, and the price is seldom above $1.50 a day, even for transients. I know of one inn that has been “discovered” by half a dozen travelling men and their wives. Three of these families live in Cleveland, one in Pittsburg, and two in New York, and each year they spend a month together on Lake St. Clair. The cost is six dollars a week for each adult! A few weeks ago I was talking with one of these men, the representative of a New York dry-goods firm, and he told me that for himself, his wife, and two children it cost less to stay a month at this place than it did to pass a single week at an ocean resort, and that the accommodations and opportunities for pleasure were greater there than he had ever been able to afford on the Atlantic. I do not wish to emphasise the attractions of any particular inn, for in most ways all of them are alike. And the holiday-seeker who knows nothing of the Lakes can find them as easily as he can locate the groves I have described. The secret of the whole thing is in the knowledge that hundreds of such places really exist.
There’s another side to life by the lake, a step away from what I’ve described, that’s also unknown outside its local area and could bring great enjoyment and value to those looking for a vacation along our Inland Seas. The shores of the Lakes are filled with what we might call lakeside inns—places far from the dust, noise, and fancier entertainment of crowded resorts and cities, where you can enjoy all the simple pleasures of lake life for around six to eight dollars a week. This price covers your room, meals, boats, fishing gear, and other amenities. At most of these inns, the food is better than what you’d find at larger resorts. Fish, frog legs, and chicken are staples on the menu, and almost always, they’re served in big dishes, heaped with fresh food from the kitchen as soon as they’re empty. The fish are free for the innkeepers because the guests usually catch them; frogs are generally abundant nearby, and if the owner doesn’t raise their own chickens, they buy them from local farmers. The inn acts as a local market for butter, eggs, celery, and all sorts of vegetables, which helps explain why the meals at these places are usually better than what you’d find in a city. I’m sure that if these lakeside inns were well-known, they’d be so busy that life there would feel overwhelming. But they are not well-known, so they continue in their traditional ways, providing unmatched summer joy for those lucky enough to find them. Many of these inns charge only a dollar a day for everything included, and the price seldom goes above $1.50 a day, even for short stays. I know of one inn that has been “discovered” by a handful of traveling salesmen and their wives. Three of these families are from Cleveland, one from Pittsburgh, and two from New York, and every year, they spend a month together at Lake St. Clair. The cost is six dollars a week for each adult! A few weeks ago, I spoke with one of these men, a representative of a New York department store, and he told me that for himself, his wife, and two kids, it cost less to stay a month at this place than it did to spend just one week at an ocean resort, and the amenities and chances for fun were better there than anything he could afford on the Atlantic. I don’t want to highlight any one specific inn, since most of them are quite similar. And a holiday-seeker unfamiliar with the Lakes can find them as easily as he can discover the groves I mentioned. The key is knowing that there are hundreds of such places that truly exist.
I have often thought that if it were possible for every person in the United States to make a trip over the Lakes, beginning at Niagara Falls, our Inland Seas from that day on would be recognised as the greatest pleasure-grounds in the world. At Niagara Falls, the traveller takes the Gorge ride, and perhaps makes a trip on the Maid of the Mist. But he is84 probably unaware that in the immediate neighbourhood are a score of spots hallowed in history, and whose incidents have made up some of the most romantic and tragic pages in the story of our country. He may not know that within walking distance of the falls was fought the battle of Queenston Heights, that at certain points the earthworks of the British still remain, that he may stand in the very spot where General Brock fell dying, and that he may follow, step by step, that thrilling fight far up on the summit of those wild ridges. Neither does the ordinary tourist know that almost within sight of the falls is one of the oldest cemeteries in America, where many of the men who were slain in the battles of those regions are at rest. Old Fort Niagara remains almost unvisited, and the spot not far distant where the adventurer La Salle built the Griffin, the first vessel ever to sail the Lakes, is virtually unknown. Two weeks, and every hour of them filled with interest, might be spent by the Lake tourist at Niagara Falls, yet the average person is satisfied with a day. And it is all because he does not know. This may be said of his experiences from end to end of the Lakes.
I often think that if everyone in the United States could take a trip over the Lakes starting at Niagara Falls, our Inland Seas would be recognized as the greatest leisure spots in the world. At Niagara Falls, travelers enjoy the Gorge ride and perhaps go on the Maid of the Mist. But they are84 probably unaware that nearby are many historical sites filled with stories that have created some of the most romantic and tragic chapters in our country's history. They may not know that within walking distance of the falls is where the battle of Queenston Heights was fought, where remnants of British earthworks still exist, where one can stand at the very spot where General Brock fell, and follow the exciting events of that intense fight up on those steep ridges. The average tourist also doesn’t realize that almost in sight of the falls is one of the oldest cemeteries in America, where many of the men who died in those battles are laid to rest. Old Fort Niagara remains largely unvisited, and the location nearby where the explorer La Salle constructed the Griffin, the first ship to sail the Lakes, is nearly forgotten. A two-week visit, with every hour packed with interesting activities, could be spent by Lake tourists at Niagara Falls, yet most are content with just one day. And it’s all because they don’t know. This can be said of their experiences across the entire Lakes region.

Steamer “Western States.”
Steamboat "Western States."
One of the largest and fastest boats on the Lakes. Carries 2500 people and her fastest speed is 20 miles an hour.
One of the biggest and fastest boats on the Lakes. It can carry 2,500 people and its top speed is 20 miles per hour.
From a Photograph by Detroit Photographic Co.
From a Photograph by Detroit Photographic Co.
When his ship passes into Lake Erie he enters upon new and even more thrilling pages of history. Near Put-in-Bay his captain can point out to him where Perry and his ships of war engaged and whipped the British fleet in 1813; for nearly a hundred miles his vessel will travel over the very course taken by the85 fleeing British ships, and that course, if he follows it to the Thames, will lead to the scenes of the fierce battle that was fought there, and of the sanguinary conflict with the Indians in which the famous chieftain Tecumseh was slain. And all this time he will see rising along the white stretches of shore the smoke of great cities, and hundreds of miles of wooded beach, where unnumbered millions might pass their summer holidays without crowding. And when he enters the Detroit River he looks out upon quiet Canadian shores and little “Sleepy Hollow” towns, still characterised by the quaint French atmosphere and peacefulness that marked them a century ago.
When his ship enters Lake Erie, he steps into new and even more exciting chapters of history. Near Put-in-Bay, his captain can show him where Perry and his warships battled and defeated the British fleet in 1813; for nearly a hundred miles, his vessel will travel over the exact route taken by the85 escaping British ships, and this path, if he continues to the Thames, will bring him to the sites of the fierce battle fought there and the bloody conflict with the Indians where the famous chief Tecumseh was killed. Throughout this journey, he will see the smoke rising from great cities along the white stretches of shore, and miles of wooded beach, where countless millions could spend their summer vacations without feeling crowded. When he enters the Detroit River, he looks out at quiet Canadian shores and small “Sleepy Hollow” towns, still marked by the charming French vibe and tranquility that defined them a century ago.
Now he begins to see the crowded, noisy, jostling pleasures of popular river resorts; then comes Detroit, the greatest excursion city on the Lakes. Here again history may add to the pleasure of his reflections, for three nations have fought for and possessed Detroit. He passes Belle Isle, the greatest pleasure ground in the world with the exception of Coney Island, and a few minutes later can almost throw a stone upon the island that was once the home of the famous Indian chief Pontiac, and where the plans for that bloodthirsty warrior’s assaults upon the whites were made. Then follows the course across beautiful Lake St. Clair, and the slow journey through Little Venice, where again the crowds and music and gay vessels of one of the most popular resorts in America greet his eyes for many miles; where every bit of land that86 thrusts itself out of the lake is lined with summer cottages and lakeside inns. Here the tourist may stop for a dollar a day or two dollars a day, and may mingle freely with bankers and merchants and millionaires as well as with the “common herd.” It is a mixed, happy, cosmopolitan life.
Now he starts to take in the crowded, noisy, bustling attractions of popular river resorts; then comes Detroit, the biggest spot for excursions on the Lakes. Here, history can enhance the enjoyment of his thoughts, as three nations have fought over and claimed Detroit. He passes Belle Isle, the biggest recreational area in the world aside from Coney Island, and a few minutes later, he can almost toss a stone onto the island that was once home to the famous Indian chief Pontiac, where plans for that savage warrior’s attacks on the settlers were made. Then he continues across beautiful Lake St. Clair, slowly making his way through Little Venice, where once again the crowds, music, and vibrant boats from one of America's most popular resorts fill his view for miles; where every piece of land that86 juts out into the lake is lined with summer cottages and lakeside inns. Here, tourists can stop for a dollar a day or two dollars a day, mingling freely with bankers, merchants, millionaires, and the “common folk.” It's a mixed, joyful, cosmopolitan way of life.
From Little Venice the tourist’s ship enters the St. Clair River, along which live innumerable captains of ships. It is a paradise of beauty, yet along its length one may buy cottage sites cheaper than he can purchase ordinary city lots. Here the traveller will see the tents of happy campers from the city, comfortable inns, and now and then a summer resort hotel—a mixed life, one of pleasure for the man with a family and little money as well as for him who has more than he knows well how to spend.
From Little Venice, the tourist’s boat enters the St. Clair River, where countless ship captains live. It’s a beautiful paradise, yet along its length, you can find cottage lots for less than the price of average city lots. Here, travelers will see the tents of happy campers from the city, cozy inns, and occasionally a summer resort hotel—a blend of lifestyles, offering enjoyment for families with limited budgets as well as for those who have money to spare.

Once out upon the bosom of Lake Huron, the scenes begin to change. Now there are miles of shore on which there is hardly a habitation to be seen. From Saginaw Bay northward for hundreds of miles along the Georgian Bay and Michigan shores, the grandeur and beauty of the wilderness are seen from the deck of the vessel. As one progresses farther north the scenes become wilder and wilder, until the captain may tell you that you are looking out over regions where the bear and the deer and the wolf make their homes; and if you have a drop of sportsman’s blood in you, he adds to your excitement by saying that you may see big game from the deck of the ship before the trip is87 over. At times, and for long distances, the vessel seems to be picking her way between innumerable islands, and if the course is through Georgian Bay their number bewilders the traveller. They are on all sides of him. Here and there upon them are resort hotels; more numerous still are the simple, homelike places where the city worker and his family may stay at comparatively small expense, and along the mainland are the homes of settlers and farmers, nine out of ten of whom are glad to accommodate summer visitors at prices which make living there as cheap as at home.
Once you're out on Lake Huron, the scenery starts to change. Now, there are miles of shoreline where hardly a building can be seen. From Saginaw Bay northward for hundreds of miles along the Georgian Bay and Michigan coasts, the stunning beauty of the wilderness unfolds from the ship's deck. As you travel further north, the landscapes become increasingly wild, until the captain might point out that you’re looking over areas where bears, deer, and wolves live. If you've got any hunter's spirit in you, he’ll heighten your excitement by saying you could spot big game from the ship before the journey is87 over. At times, for long stretches, the vessel seems to navigate through countless islands, and if you're going through Georgian Bay, their sheer number can be overwhelming. They’re all around you. Here and there, you can find resort hotels; even more common are the cozy, homey spots where city folks and their families can stay for a reasonable price. Along the mainland, you'll find the homes of settlers and farmers, most of whom are happy to host summer guests at rates that make it as affordable as staying at home.
Farther northward the tourist’s ship carries him deeper into the wilderness country, through St. Mary’s River, with its forest-clad shores and islands, broken here and there by little cottages built and owned by city people; through the locks at the “Soo,” and into Lake Superior. Beyond this, as one captain expressed it to the writer, “there is howling wilderness on every shore.” At times the traveller may have glimpses of the Canadian coast, from which the unbroken wild stretches northward to Hudson Bay; his eyes may travel over the hazy distance of the greatest moose- and caribou-hunting country on the continent; and when near the Michigan shore he may see the smoke rising above the great copper mines of the Upper Peninsula. And at the end of this northern route he comes to Duluth, the second greatest freight-shipping port in the world, and88 destined to become one of the most important cities in America.
Farther north, the tourist's ship takes him deeper into the wilderness, navigating through St. Mary’s River, with its forest-covered shores and islands, occasionally interrupted by small cottages built and owned by city folks; through the locks at the “Soo,” and into Lake Superior. Beyond this, as one captain told the writer, “there is a howling wilderness on every shore.” Sometimes the traveler might catch glimpses of the Canadian coast, from which the unbroken wild extends northward to Hudson Bay; his gaze might wander over the hazy expanse of the best moose- and caribou-hunting territory on the continent; and when close to the Michigan shore, he might see smoke rising above the massive copper mines of the Upper Peninsula. At the end of this northern journey, he arrives in Duluth, the second largest freight-shipping port in the world, and88 set to become one of the most significant cities in America.
At the Straits of Mackinaw, however, the tourist may turn into Lake Michigan instead of continuing into Superior: and if so, he soon comes within sight of Beaver Island, famous for all ages in history as the one-time stronghold of King Strang and his Mormons—an island about which piracy once flourished and where more than one vessel, in the years of long ago, met a mysterious and tragic end at the hands of buccaneers as bloodthirsty as any that ever roamed the seas.
At the Straits of Mackinaw, however, visitors can choose to head into Lake Michigan instead of continuing into Lake Superior. If they do, they will soon see Beaver Island, which has been famous throughout history as the former stronghold of King Strang and his Mormons—an island once rife with piracy where more than one ship, years ago, met a mysterious and tragic fate at the hands of ruthless buccaneers as bloodthirsty as any that ever sailed the seas.

And so it goes, from end to end of the Lakes, every mile fraught with interest, every hour offering the traveller something new of scenery or history. At no time is there the monotonous sameness of ocean travel, and even night is to be regretted because of the things which are passed then and cannot be seen. And this life of the Lakes is not, like that of the salt seas, open only to those of means. It is within the poor man’s reach as well as the rich, is accessible to the hard-working housewife as well as to the woman who possesses her carriage and her servants.
And so it goes, from one end of the Lakes to the other, every mile filled with interest and every hour giving travelers something new to discover in terms of scenery or history. There's never that dull sameness of ocean travel, and even nighttime is something to be missed because of the sights that are passed by and can't be seen. This life by the Lakes isn't just for the wealthy, like that of the ocean; it’s within reach of the poor as well as the rich, and it's accessible to the hardworking housewife as much as it is to the woman who has her own carriage and servants.
I was watching a blockade of ships in a Lake Erie harbour—a score of striving, crowding, smoking monsters of the Inland Seas, hung under a pall of black smoke, with screeching tugs floundering here and there, megaphone voices shouting curses and orders, and the crashing of chains and steel filling the air. And I thought of a theatre I had visited the night before where, arriving late, I was forced to crush in with the gallery gods and fight for a place in the fifth heaven. In the excitement of this “spring rush” of great ships for the freight-laden docks of the North, I spoke my sentiment to the man beside me—a man who had always before him in his office five miniature lakes, on which miniature vessels represented his steel leviathans of commerce, which he moved about, and played, and watched, day by day and almost hour by hour, as a player might move his men at chess. And this man, I noticed, was regarding the scene before him with different eyes from mine. His face was set in a frown, his eyes stared in their momentary anxiety, and I could almost feel the eager tenseness of his body.90 Out there in that chaotic tangle, where captains were fighting for prestige and taking chances that might cost thousands, he had ships. I saw him clench his hand as a black monster crept forward into the gap between two ships ahead; I saw it forge on, yard by yard, saw the other vessels close up on it as though it were an egg which they were bent on crushing between them, heard the rumbling of steel side against steel side, and when at last I witnessed this ship break triumphantly into the lead, great blotches of paint scraped from it, I looked at the man again, and he was smiling.
I was watching a blockade of ships in a Lake Erie harbor—a bunch of massive, struggling vessels filling the Inland Seas, enveloped in a cloud of black smoke, with noisy tugs moving around, shouting orders and curses through megaphones, and the sound of chains and steel echoing in the air. I thought about a theater I went to the night before where, arriving late, I had to squeeze in with the people in the balcony and fight for a spot up high. In the midst of this “spring rush” of huge ships heading for the freight-heavy docks of the North, I shared my thoughts with the man next to me—a guy who always had five miniature lakes in his office, with tiny ships representing his large commercial vessels, which he moved around and watched just like a player at chess, day by day and almost hour by hour. I noticed that this guy was looking at the scene differently than I was. His face was frowning, his eyes wide with concern, and I could almost feel the tension in his body. 90 Out there in that chaotic mess, where captains were competing for status and taking risks that could cost thousands, he had ships. I saw him clench his fist as a dark vessel slipped forward into the gap between two ships ahead; I watched it advance, inch by inch, saw the other vessels close in on it like they were trying to crush an egg, heard the grinding of steel against steel, and when I finally saw this ship break through to the front, chunks of paint coming off it, I looked at the man again, and he was smiling.
Then he turned to me, and as we walked away from the scene, he observed:
Then he turned to me, and as we walked away from the scene, he said:
“That’s good—that ‘crush’ idea of yours. I’d use it. It’s as pretty a comparison as you could get to the whole situation on the Lakes to-day, and it’s a key to what the situation is going to be ten years from now. It’s crush and crowd all over the Lakes from Duluth to Buffalo. Harbours are getting too small; the ‘Soo’ canals are becoming outgrown; the Lime Kiln crossing is a greater and greater menace as the number of ships increases. And the ships? They’re increasing so fast that unless the Government takes a hand, there will be more tragedies to write down in Lake history during the next decade or two, than in all of the years that have gone before.”
“That’s great—that 'crush' idea of yours. I’d totally use it. It’s as perfect a comparison as you can get for the whole situation on the Lakes today, and it’s a glimpse into what things are going to be like ten years from now. It’s crush and crowd all over the Lakes from Duluth to Buffalo. Harbors are becoming too small; the ‘Soo’ canals are being outgrown; the Lime Kiln crossing is becoming a bigger threat as the number of ships keeps increasing. And the ships? They’re piling up so fast that unless the Government steps in, there will be more tragedies to note in Lake history over the next decade or two than in all the years that have come before.”

A Steamer Stripped by a Tow-Line by Running between a Steamer and her Consort.
A Steamer Pulled Apart by a Tow-Line while Moving between a Steamer and her Partner.
From a Photograph by Lord & Rhoades, Sault Ste. Marie, Mich.
From a Photograph by Lord & Rhoades, Sault Ste. Marie, Mich.
This possibility of the actual overcrowding, of the Lakes is one that I have discussed with half a hundred91 captains and owners. It offers a new “future” for romance and tragedy on the Great Lakes. Since the day the first strong-hearted explorers sailed up the Inland Seas on the Griffin, the unusual, the tragic, and the romantic have made up thrilling chapters in their history—chapters in battle, piracy, and adventure, whose heroes and their exploits rank on even terms with Paul Jones, Kidd, Morgan, Hudson, and other worthies of the open seas. The romance of the old days, as upon the ocean, is gone; a new romance has taken its place—the romance of iron and steel and steam; and a new and greater peril than that born of wind and storm, many believe, is fast developing to face the fresh-water mariner of the future. This is the peril of collision—not as it exists to-day, but as it may exist a few years from now. Already this peril is an ever-present menace upon the Great Lakes, and hardly a day passes during the season of navigation that collisions do not occur. The Lakes, it is probable, will never be able to take entire care of the enormous commerce of the East and West, and as a result ships will continue to increase until, like the streets of a great city with their rushing automobiles and unceasing pandemonium of cars, vans, and seething multitudes, these water highways will become dangerously crowded with the vehicles of trade. Already the Lake Carriers’ Association seems to foresee the danger of future navigation on the Inland Seas, and has recommended that east and west courses92 be established, so that up-bound vessels will be far out of the path of down-bound ships. This is but the first step toward government legislation, many believe, that will bring about the “cutting up of the Lakes into roads,” when vessels bound for given ports will have prescribed courses to travel, from which they will deviate, unless with good cause, at the risk not only of their safety, but of a heavy fine. Thus, it is probable, will the Lakes be made navigable for the myriad ships of the future, when, in the words of one ship-owner, “A pall of smoke will hover overhead day and night for seven months in the year, and when the world will witness water commerce as it has never existed before, and as it will never exist elsewhere on the globe.”
This potential for actual overcrowding of the Lakes is something I’ve talked about with numerous captains and owners. It brings a new kind of “future” for romance and tragedy on the Great Lakes. Since the first brave explorers set sail on the Inland Seas with the Griffin, the unusual, the tragic, and the romantic have created thrilling stories in their history—stories of battle, piracy, and adventure, whose heroes and deeds are on par with Paul Jones, Kidd, Morgan, Hudson, and other legends of the open seas. The romance of the past, like that of the ocean, has faded; a new romance has emerged—the romance of iron, steel, and steam; and many believe a new and greater danger, beyond wind and storm, is quickly developing to confront the fresh-water mariner of the future. This danger is collision—not as it is today, but as it could be in a few years. Already, this threat looms large over the Great Lakes, with collisions happening almost daily during the navigation season. The Lakes will likely never be able to fully manage the huge commerce between the East and West, and as a result, ships will continue to multiply until, like the streets of a major city filled with rushing cars and constant chaos, these waterways become dangerously congested with trade vessels. The Lake Carriers’ Association seems to anticipate the risks of future navigation on the Inland Seas and has suggested establishing specific east and west routes, so that ships heading upstream will be well clear of those going downstream. This is just the first step toward government regulation, as many believe, leading to the “division of the Lakes into channels,” where vessels headed to particular ports will have set courses to follow and will only deviate for good reason, risking not just their safety but also hefty fines. In this way, the Lakes will likely become navigable for the countless ships of the future, when, in the words of one ship owner, “A cloud of smoke will hang overhead night and day for seven months a year, and when the world will see water commerce like it has never seen before, and as it will never see anywhere else on the planet.”
This is looking into the future; but one acquainted with the Lake life of to-day cannot but see the picture. And this picture brings one to the real motif of this chapter—a description of the “human interest side” of America’s vast “unsalted seas,” that side in which the romantic and the tragic and not the realities of statistics and economic progress play the absorbing parts, and which should serve to make them of interest to hundreds of thousands of people who have yet their first trips to take upon them.
This looks to the future; however, anyone familiar with today's Lake life can't help but see the scene. This scene leads us to the main focus of this chapter—a look at the “human interest side” of America’s vast “unsalted seas,” where romance and tragedy, rather than the cold facts of statistics and economic growth, take center stage. This should make it engaging for the hundreds of thousands of people who have yet to embark on their first trips.
From my twenty years of experience with them, I believe that failure to treat of the human interest of the Lakes is one of the most inexcusable omissions of American literature. In the rush of modern progress93 the Lakes have been forgotten—except in the way of their vital importance to the commerce of the nation. And each year their picturesque and thrilling aspects are becoming more deeply engulfed in considerations of profit and loss and corporation finance.
From my twenty years of experience with them, I believe that neglecting the human stories of the Lakes is one of the biggest shortcomings in American literature. In the fast pace of modern progress93, the Lakes have been overlooked—aside from their crucial role in the nation's commerce. Each year, their beautiful and exciting features are increasingly overshadowed by profit and loss calculations and corporate finance.
Not long ago I asked a romantically inclined young woman, who was about to spend the savings of several years on an ocean trip, why she did not take a more economical, and pleasanter, holiday by making a tour of the Lakes. She looked at me as if I had gone out of my head.
Not long ago, I asked a young woman who was into romance and about to spend years of savings on a beach trip why she didn’t choose a more affordable and enjoyable vacation by touring the Lakes. She stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Take a trip on the Lakes when I can have one on the ocean!” she cried. After a moment of continued surprise, she added: “I want something that I can think about. I want to go where something has happened—where there have been battles, and pirates, and where there’s sunken ships, and treasure, and things under us! I’m reading a story now that tells of the ocean—The Cruise of a Lonely Heart—situated in the very part of the sea we’re to cross, and I shall read every word of it over again while we’re aboard the ship!”
“Take a trip on the lakes when I could be on the ocean!” she exclaimed. After a moment of surprised silence, she added, “I want something that I can really think about. I want to go where something has happened—where there have been battles, and pirates, and where there are sunken ships, treasure, and mysteries beneath us! I’m reading a story right now that’s set in the ocean—The Cruise of a Lonely Heart—in the exact area of the sea we're going to cross, and I plan to read every word of it again while we're on the ship!”
That is the great trouble. Historians, novelists, and short-story writers have neglected the Lakes. I did not waste my breath in telling this young lady that real pirates flourished in the days of King Strang and his Mormons on the Lakes; that some of the most picturesque “sea fights” of history were fought upon94 them, and that treasure untold, and mysteries without number, lie hidden within their depths. But I am determined that she shall read these few pages, and I pray that she, as well as a few thousand others of my readers, may hereby be induced to “take to their history.”
That’s the real issue. Historians, novelists, and short-story writers have overlooked the Lakes. I didn’t bother to explain to this young woman that real pirates thrived during the time of King Strang and his Mormons on the Lakes; that some of the most dramatic “sea battles” in history were fought on them, and that untold treasure and countless mysteries lie hidden in their depths. But I’m determined for her to read these few pages, and I hope that she, along with a few thousand others of my readers, will be inspired to “dive into their history.”
For centuries the oceans have been regarded as the realm of romance and mystery. In this age, the youths of Chicago, of New York, Cincinnati, or Denver, and even of Lake cities, search public libraries for tales of the South Seas and of the great Pacific; even the youngster whose every day has been spent on the shores of one of the five Great Lakes seeks afar the material that satisfies his boyish imagination. And so is it with his father and mother, his big brothers and sisters. Instead of a glorious trip over the Lakes, they prefer the old and oft-made journey to Europe, to the Bermudas; instead of seeking out the grand scenery and actual romance that environ them, they follow beaten paths laid out in books and pamphlets descriptive of the ocean.
For centuries, the oceans have been seen as a place of romance and mystery. Nowadays, the young people of Chicago, New York, Cincinnati, Denver, and even those from towns near the Great Lakes, flock to public libraries for stories about the South Seas and the vast Pacific. Even kids who have spent every day on the shores of one of the five Great Lakes long to find adventures beyond their everyday lives that spark their imagination. This desire extends to their parents, older siblings, and relatives. Instead of enjoying a fantastic trip across the Lakes, they favor the familiar journeys to Europe or Bermuda; rather than exploring the beautiful landscapes and real-life tales around them, they choose to follow the well-trodden paths laid out in books and pamphlets about the ocean.

In view of the action already being taken to bring about legislation to prevent collisions, it is interesting to note that no similar area of any ocean, if suddenly robbed of its waters, would expose to human eyes more sunken ships, or more valuable cargoes, than the Great Lakes. During the twenty years between 1878 and 1898, only one less than 6000 vessels were wrecked on the Inland Seas, and 1093 these were95 total losses. The loss of cargo during this period of a little more than one fourth of the years of navigation on the Lakes was nearly $8,000,000, and from this it is quite safe to figure that the total amount of property that has gone to the bottom of the Lakes, including only cargoes, would make a total of at least $15,000,000, involving the wrecking of 14,000 vessels and the total loss of over 2000 ships. Were these “total losses” strung out in a row, there would be a sunken ship at a distance of every half-mile over the thousand-mile length of the Lakes between Buffalo and Duluth. What a field for romance here! What material for the seeker of human achievement, of heroism, of sacrifice! Scores of these vessels disappeared as suddenly and as mysteriously as though some great power had smuggled them from the face of the earth, leaving naught behind to tell of the tragedies; hundreds of ships carried with them valuable cargoes which remain to this day for lucky fortune-hunters to recover from the depths; and in their going thousands of lives were snuffed out, and thousands of unwritten acts of heroism were played and never heard of, or forgotten.
Considering the efforts already underway to create laws that prevent collisions, it’s fascinating to point out that no other ocean area, if suddenly drained of its waters, would reveal more sunken ships or valuable cargo than the Great Lakes. Between 1878 and 1898, nearly 6,000 vessels were wrecked on these Inland Seas, with 1,093 of those categorized as total losses. The cargo loss during this time—just a little over one-fourth of the overall navigation years on the Lakes—was nearly $8,000,000. From this, it’s safe to estimate that the total value of property that has sunk in the Lakes, including only cargo, amounts to at least $15,000,000, resulting from the wreckage of 14,000 vessels and the total loss of over 2,000 ships. If these “total losses” were lined up, there would be a sunken ship every half-mile along the thousand-mile stretch of the Lakes from Buffalo to Duluth. What a captivating scene for stories! What inspiration for those seeking tales of human achievement, heroism, and sacrifice! Many of these vessels vanished as suddenly and mysteriously as if some great force had taken them from existence, leaving nothing behind to tell of the tragedies; hundreds of ships bore valuable cargo that remains lost to this day, waiting for lucky treasure hunters to retrieve it from the depths; and in their sinking, thousands of lives were lost, along with countless unwritten acts of heroism that went unheard or were forgotten.
How many remember the name of Captain James Jackson? Jackson is only one of a thousand heroes of the Inland Seas, and the deed which made him famous among Lake seamen is only one of a thousand of a similar kind. It happened one year in the closing days of navigation on Superior. The owners of the96 freighter W. F. Sauber had sent that ship from Duluth with one last load of iron ore under the command of W. E. Morris. Off Whitefish Point the vessel was caught in a fierce storm from the north. All night she weathered the gale, but with morning there came a blinding sleet with fierce wind and intense cold, and the breaking seas froze as they touched the upper works of the ship. Under the increasing weight of ice the disabled Sauber gradually settled. When thus the “little ice devils” of Superior gather upon a victim, it sometimes happens that no power of man can save the ship, and in this instance the crew of the doomed freighter realised that it was only a matter of a short time before the end would come. But strange things happen on the Inland Seas, as on the oceans.
How many people remember the name Captain James Jackson? Jackson is just one of countless heroes of the Inland Seas, and the action that made him famous among Lake sailors is just one of many similar stories. It took place one year during the last days of navigation on Lake Superior. The owners of the96 freighter W. F. Sauber had sent the ship from Duluth with one final load of iron ore, commanded by W. E. Morris. Off Whitefish Point, the vessel encountered a violent storm from the north. All night, it battled the gale, but by morning, a blinding sleet accompanied by fierce winds and extreme cold set in, causing the breaking waves to freeze upon contact with the ship's upper works. As the weight of the ice increased, the disabled Sauber slowly began to sink. When the “little ice devils” of Superior settle on a vessel, it sometimes happens that no amount of human effort can save the ship, and in this case, the crew of the doomed freighter realized it was only a matter of time before their end would come. But strange things happen on the Inland Seas, just like they do on the oceans.
Upon this day, so far as is known, there were just two vessels on Lake Superior, and fate decreed that they should meet off Whitefish Point. While the men of the Sauber were waiting for death, the steamer Yale was tearing her way through the gale toward the “Soo,” and as he passed Captain Jackson sighted the sinking ship. It was then that occurred that act which won him a gold medal and a purse contributed to by hundreds of sailors all over the Lakes.
On this day, as far as anyone knows, there were only two vessels on Lake Superior, and fate decided they would meet off Whitefish Point. While the crew of the Sauber waited for death, the steamer Yale was cutting through the storm toward the “Soo.” As it passed, Captain Jackson spotted the sinking ship. That was the moment he performed the act that earned him a gold medal and a cash award donated by hundreds of sailors across the Lakes.

Notwithstanding the peril of his own situation, Captain Jackson brought his vessel to. For hours it was buffeted in the trough of the sea, which was too heavy for small boats to attempt a rescue in. Night came, and the freighters drifted to within a stone’s throw of97 each other. At dawn, when the Yale might have been safely in port, it was found that she, too, was gradually settling, and that the Sauber could not live an hour longer. Captain Jackson at once called for volunteers willing to risk their lives in an attempt at rescue; he himself went out in the first boat. If bravery was ever rewarded it was then. Every member of the Sauber’s crew, with the exception of the captain, was carried to the Yale. At the last moment Captain Morris attempted to lower himself into one of the boats—hesitated—then leaped back to the deck of the sinking ship.
Despite the danger to himself, Captain Jackson brought his ship to safety. For hours, it was tossed around in the rough sea, which was too strong for small boats to attempt a rescue. Night fell, and the freighters floated within a stone’s throw of each other. At dawn, when the Yale could have been safely docked, it was discovered that she, too, was slowly sinking, while the Sauber had less than an hour to survive. Captain Jackson immediately called for volunteers willing to risk their lives for a rescue attempt; he himself went out in the first boat. If bravery was ever rewarded, it was in that moment. Every member of the Sauber’s crew, except for the captain, was brought onto the Yale. At the last moment, Captain Morris tried to lower himself into one of the boats—hesitated—then jumped back onto the deck of the sinking ship.
“Go on, boys!” he shouted through the gale. “Good luck to you, but I’m going to stay with the old boat!”
“Go on, guys!” he yelled over the wind. “Good luck to you, but I’m sticking with the old boat!”
This is heroism, sacrifice, faithfulness, as they are bred on the Inland Seas.
This is heroism, sacrifice, loyalty, as they are nurtured on the Great Lakes.
Thirty minutes later the Sauber went under, and immediately after the explosion of her deck, caused by the pressure of air and water, those who were still courageously waiting in a small boat heard the last cries of Captain Morris rising above the gale.
Thirty minutes later, the Sauber went down, and right after the deck exploded due to the pressure of air and water, those still bravely waiting in a small boat heard Captain Morris's final cries rising above the storm.
These “last days of navigation”—the season when life and property are hazarded by crews and captains with a recklessness that thrills one’s blood—are justly dreaded, and I have been told by a hopeful few that the time is coming when proper legislation will send ships into winter quarters earlier than now. It is at this time that casualties multiply with alarming rapidity, the perils of Lake navigation becoming tenfold98 as great as those of the ocean. Heavy fogs hide the beacons that mark the danger lines. Blinding snowstorms blot out the most powerful lights. Driven by fierce gales, weighted by ice, with heaven and sea meeting in a pall that conceals the guiding stars ashore, scores of vessels continue to beat onward in the hope of adding one more successful trip to their season’s record.
These "final days of navigation"—the season when life and property are put at risk by crews and captains with a recklessness that sends chills down your spine—are rightly feared. I've heard from a few optimistic people that the time will come when proper laws will force ships to dock for winter earlier than they do now. During this period, accidents increase at an alarming rate, with the dangers of navigating the lake becoming ten times greater than those at sea. Thick fogs obscure the beacons that indicate dangerous areas. Blinding snowstorms erase even the strongest lights. Driven by fierce winds and weighed down by ice, while heaven and sea merge into a gloom that hides the guiding stars onshore, many vessels press on, hoping to add one more successful trip to their season's tally.98
The history of a Lake Superior tragedy is simple. One more trip from Duluth may mean thousands of dollars. The season is late—too late. But freight rates are high. No risk, no gain, argues the ship-owner, as he sends his vessel from port. Those are days of anxiety for captain, crew, and owner. In a few hours the clear sky may give place to banks of snow clouds. The air turns bitter cold. Darkness falls in the middle of the afternoon. The snow descends in dense clouds. It is far worse than the blackest night, for it shuts out the lights along the treacherous shores as completely as a wall of mountains. Upon the captain alone now depends the safety of the ship, for the Government’s attempts to aid him are futile. Perhaps his vessel is safely making her course miles from the coast. Or it may be that it is driving steadily toward its doom upon the dreaded Pictured Rocks. It was in this way that the steamer Superior was lost with all on board, and in the same way the Western Reserve beat herself to pieces within sight of the Big Sable light. And Superior has a harder fate in store99 for many of those who take the last ill-fated trip of the season. Sailors dread it more than the tragedy of dense snowstorms, when they run upon the rocks, for even there hope does not die; they dread it more than the fierce, sledge-hammer wash of Erie in a storm; more than the fearful dash for port in Lake Michigan, where ports are few; and this fate is the fate of “the little ice devils”—those masses of ice which freeze upon a ship until she is weighted beyond control.
The story of a Lake Superior tragedy is straightforward. A trip from Duluth could mean thousands of dollars. The season is late—too late. But freight rates are high. No risk, no reward, the shipowner argues as he sends his vessel out. These are tense days for the captain, crew, and owner. In just a few hours, the clear sky can turn into heavy snow clouds. The air becomes bitterly cold. Darkness falls in the afternoon. Snow falls in thick clouds. It’s worse than the darkest night because it blocks the lights along the dangerous shores completely, like a wall of mountains. Now the safety of the ship rests solely on the captain, as the Government's attempts to help him are useless. Maybe his vessel is safely charting its course miles away from the coast. Or it might be heading straight toward disaster at the feared Pictured Rocks. This was the fate of the steamer Superior, lost with everyone on board, and the same fate befell the Western Reserve, which wrecked just in sight of the Big Sable light. And the Superior has a harsher fate in store 99 for many who take the last ill-fated trip of the season. Sailors fear it more than the tragedy of heavy snowstorms when they run into rocks, because even then, hope does not die; they fear it more than the brutal waves of Erie in a storm; more than the terrifying rush for port in Lake Michigan, where ports are scarce; and this fate is the fate of “the little ice devils”—those chunks of ice that cling to a ship until it loses control.
In these days of late navigation—days of fierce battles with snow, ice, and wind, days of death and destruction as they are never known upon the salt seas—is material for a generation of writers; unnumbered stories of true mystery, true romance, and true tragedy, which, if fed to the nation in popular form, would be of immeasurable value to lovers of the literature of adventure. Into what a fascinating tale of mystery, for example, might the loss of the Queen of the West be turned! And, yet, here is a case where truth is in reality stranger than fiction, and possibly an editor might “turn down” the tale as too improbable. Recently I chronicled a true romance of the Lakes. I had dates, names of ships, names of people, and even court records to prove the absolute verity of my story, which was related in the form of fiction. I sent it to several editors who had published other stories of mine, and one after another they returned it, saying that while my proofs were conclusive, the story was so unusual in some of its situations that their readers100 would consider the tale as a gross exaggeration of anything that might occur on the Great Lakes!
In these current times of late navigation—when fierce battles with snow, ice, and wind lead to death and destruction that are rarely seen on the open sea—there's plenty of material for writers; countless stories of true mystery, true romance, and true tragedy that, if presented to the public in an engaging way, would be incredibly valuable to fans of adventure literature. Just think about how fascinating the story of the loss of the Queen of the West could be! Yet, in this case, reality is often stranger than fiction, and an editor might reject it as too improbable. Recently, I documented a true romance from the Lakes. I had dates, ship names, people's names, and even court records to prove the absolute truth of my story, which I framed as fiction. I sent it to several editors who had previously published my work, and one after another, they returned it, saying that while my evidence was undeniable, the story was so unusual in some details that their readers100 would see it as a complete exaggeration of anything that could happen on the Great Lakes!
Well, here is the story of the Queen of the West—only one of scores of Lake incidents equally unusual; and I hope that it will have at least some weight in showing that things can occur on the Inland Seas. In the late navigation days of 1903, the freighter Cordurus left Duluth on a “last trip down.” In mid-lake, the lookout reported a ship in distress, and upon nearer approach the vessel was found to be the Queen of the West, two miles out of her course, and sinking. Captain McKenzie immediately changed his course that he might go to the rescue, at the same time signalling the other vessel to lay to. What was his astonishment when he perceived the Queen of the West bearing rapidly away from him, as though her captain and crew were absolutely oblivious of their sinking condition, as well as of the fact that assistance was at hand!
Well, here’s the story of the Queen of the West—just one of many unusual incidents on the lake; and I hope it helps show that things can happen on the Inland Seas. In the late navigation days of 1903, the freighter Cordurus left Duluth on its “last trip down.” Mid-lake, the lookout spotted a ship in distress, and upon getting closer, they found it was the Queen of the West, two miles off course and sinking. Captain McKenzie immediately changed his course to go to the rescue, while signaling the other vessel to stop. What astonished him was seeing the Queen of the West quickly moving away from him, as if her captain and crew were completely unaware of their sinking situation or that help was nearby!

Now began what was without doubt the most unusual “chase” in marine history. Every eye on the deck of the Cordurus could see that the Queen of the West was sinking—that at any moment she might plunge beneath the sea. Was her captain mad? Each minute added to the mystery. The fleeing ship had changed her course so that she was bearing directly on to the north Superior shore. Added fuel was crammed under the Cordurus’s boilers; yard by yard, length by length, she gained upon the sinking vessel. Excited101 figures were seen waving their arms and signalling from the Queen of the West’s deck. But still the ship continued on her mysterious flight. At last Captain McKenzie came within hailing distance. His words have passed down into Lake history:
Now began what was undoubtedly the most unusual “chase” in marine history. Every person on the deck of the Cordurus could see that the Queen of the West was sinking—that at any moment she might go under. Was her captain insane? Each minute added to the mystery. The fleeing ship had changed course so she was heading straight for the northern shore of Lake Superior. More fuel was stuffed into the Cordurus’s boilers; yard by yard, length by length, she was gaining on the sinking vessel. Excited101 figures were seen waving their arms and signaling from the Queen of the West’s deck. But still the ship continued on her mysterious journey. At last, Captain McKenzie came within shouting distance. His words have gone down in Lake history:
“You’re sinking, you idiot! Why don’t you heave to?”
“You’re going under, you fool! Why don’t you stop and help?”
“I know it—but I can’t,” came back the voice of the Queen of the West’s captain. “We’re almost gone and if we stop our engines for a second we’ll go down like a chunk of lead!”
“I know it—but I can’t,” the captain of the Queen of the West replied. “We’re almost done for, and if we stop our engines for even a second, we’ll drop like a stone!”
Not stopping to consider the risk. Captain McKenzie ran alongside. The Queen of the West’s engines were stopped and her crew clambered aboard. Hardly had the Cordurus dropped safely away when the doomed ship went down. Her momentum alone had kept her from sinking sooner.
Not pausing to think about the risk, Captain McKenzie ran alongside. The Queen of the West’s engines were off, and her crew scrambled aboard. Barely had the Cordurus safely dropped away when the sinking ship went down. Its momentum alone had kept it from sinking earlier.
One of the most thrilling and interesting pages in the history of Great Lakes navigation, despite the comparative smallness of these fresh-water seas, is made up of “mysterious disappearances.” Ships have sailed from one port for another, and though at no time, perhaps, were they more than ten to thirty miles from shore, they have never been heard from again. Of some not even a spar or a bit of wreckage has been found. Only a few years ago the magnificent passenger steamer Chicora left St. Joseph, Michigan, for Chicago on a stormy winter night. She was one of the finest, staunchest, and best-manned vessels on102 the Lakes. She sailed out into Lake Michigan—and thence into oblivion. Not a soul escaped to tell the story of her end. Through the years that have passed no sign of her has ever been found. Wreckers have sought for her, people along the shore have watched for years; but never a memento has the lake given up from that day to this. And this is only one of the many mysteries of the Inland Seas.
One of the most exciting and intriguing chapters in the history of Great Lakes navigation, despite the relatively small size of these freshwater seas, revolves around “mysterious disappearances.” Ships have departed from one port for another, and although they were never more than ten to thirty miles from shore, they have never been heard from again. For some, not even a piece of debris or wreckage has been discovered. Just a few years ago, the beautiful passenger steamer Chicora left St. Joseph, Michigan, for Chicago on a stormy winter night. She was one of the finest, sturdiest, and best-crewed vessels on102 the Lakes. She sailed out into Lake Michigan—and into oblivion. Not a soul survived to tell the tale of her fate. Over the years that have followed, no trace of her has ever been found. Salvagers have searched for her, and people along the shore have kept watch for years; yet the lake has given up no remnants from that day to this. And this is just one of the many mysteries of the Inland Seas.

A Treacherous Sea in its Garb of Greatest Beauty.
A Dangerous Sea in its Most Beautiful Attire.
One phase of Lake navigation.
One phase of lake navigation.
Captains and sailors theorise and wonder to this day on the loss of the Atlanta, which went down in Lake Superior; and wonderful stories are told of the disappearance of the Nashua, the Gilcher, and the Hudson, and of the nameless vessels spoken of by old Lake mariners as “The Two Lost Tows” of Huron. The disappearance of these tows remains to this day unexplained. During the night the line which held them to their freighter consort parted and unknown to the steamer they fell behind. With the coming of dawn search was made for them, but in vain. What added to the uncanniness of the simultaneous disappearance of the two vessels was the fact that there was no storm at the time. No trace of the missing ships has ever been found. Almost as mysterious was the disappearance of the crack steamer Alpena in Lake Michigan. When last seen she was thirty miles from Chicago. From that day to this no one has been able to say what became of her. Of the fifty-seven people who rode with her that tragic night, not one lived to tell the tale.
Captains and sailors still theorize and wonder about the loss of the Atlanta, which sank in Lake Superior; incredible stories are shared about the disappearances of the Nashua, the Gilcher, and the Hudson, as well as the unnamed vessels referred to by old Lake mariners as “The Two Lost Tows” of Huron. The disappearance of these tows remains a mystery. During the night, the line that connected them to their freighter snapped, and they fell behind without the steamer noticing. When dawn came, a search was conducted, but it was unsuccessful. What made the simultaneous disappearance of the two vessels even stranger was the fact that there was no storm at the time. No trace of the missing ships has ever been found. Almost as mysterious was the vanishing of the fast steamer Alpena in Lake Michigan. The last sighting of her was thirty miles from Chicago. Since then, no one has been able to determine what happened to her. Of the fifty-seven people on board that fateful night, not one survived to share their story.
103 Of all Lake mysteries, that of the Bannockburn is one of the freshest in the memory. The ill-fated vessel left Duluth in the days of the “ice devils,” a big, powerful freighter with a crew of twenty-two men. What happened to her will never be known. She went out one morning, was sighted the next evening—and that was the last. Not a sign of her floated ashore, not one of her crew was found. For eighteen months the ice-cold waters of Lake Superior guarded their secret. Then one day an oar was found in the driftwood at the edge of the Michigan wilderness. Around the oar was wrapped a piece of tarpaulin, and when this was taken off, a number of rude letters were revealed scraped into the wood—letters which spelled the word B-a-n-n-o-c-k-b-u-r-n. This oar is all that remains to-day to tell the story of the missing freighter. And now, by certain superstitious sailors, the Bannockburn is supposed to be the Flying Dutchman of the Inland Seas and there are those who will tell you in all earnestness that on icy nights, when the heaven above and the sea below were joined in one black pall, they have descried the missing Bannockburn—a ghostly apparition of ice, scudding through the gloom. And this is but one more illustration of the fact that all of the romance in the lives of men who “go down to the sea in ships” is not confined to the big oceans.
103 Of all the mysteries of the lake, the one involving the Bannockburn is one of the most recent in people's memories. This ill-fated ship left Duluth during the era of the “ice devils,” a large, powerful freighter with a crew of twenty-two. What happened to it may never be known. It set out one morning and was spotted the next evening—and that was the last anyone saw of it. Not a single sign of it washed ashore, and none of the crew was ever found. For eighteen months, the icy waters of Lake Superior kept their secret. Then one day, an oar was discovered in the driftwood at the edge of the Michigan wilderness. Wrapped around the oar was a piece of tarpaulin, and when this was removed, several crude letters were revealed, carved into the wood—letters that spelled the word B-a-n-n-o-c-k-b-u-r-n. This oar is all that remains today to tell the story of the missing freighter. Now, some superstitious sailors believe that the Bannockburn is the Flying Dutchman of the Inland Seas, and there are those who will seriously tell you that on icy nights, when the sky and the sea are wrapped in one dark shroud, they have caught sight of the missing Bannockburn—a ghostly figure of ice, gliding through the darkness. And this is just one more example of the fact that not all the romance in the lives of those who “go down to the sea in ships” is limited to the great oceans.
Unnumbered thousands of tourists travel over the Lakes to-day with hardly a conception of the unrevealed interests about them. What attracts them is104 the beauty and freshness of the trip; when they go upon the ocean they wonder, and dream, and read history. Tragedy has its allurement for the pleasure-seeker, as well as romance; and while certain phases of tragedy are always regrettable, it is at least interesting to be able at times to recall them. The Lake traveller, for instance, would feel that his trip had more fully repaid him if his captain should say, pointing to a certain spot, “There is where Perry and his log ships of war met the British: the battle was fought right here”; or, “There is where the Lady Elgin went down, with a loss of three hundred lives.”
Uncountable thousands of tourists travel over the Lakes today without really understanding the hidden stories around them. What draws them in is104 the beautiful scenery and excitement of the journey; when they hit the ocean, they marvel, dream, and read about history. Tragedy holds a certain appeal for those seeking pleasure, just like romance does; and while some aspects of tragedy are always unfortunate, it's at least intriguing to sometimes reflect on them. For example, the Lake traveler would feel more satisfied with his trip if the captain pointed to a specific spot and said, “That’s where Perry and his log warships faced off against the British: the battle happened right here,” or, “That’s where the Lady Elgin sank, claiming three hundred lives.”

A View of the “Zimmerman.”
A view of the "Zimmerman."
After a collision with another freighter.
After a collision with another cargo ship.
Three hundred lives! The ordinary modern tourist would hold up his hands in incredulous wonder. “Is it possible,” he might ask, “that such tragedies have occurred on the Lakes?” I doubt if there are many who know that upon the Lakes have occurred some of the greatest marine disasters of the world. On September 8, 1860, the Lady Elgin collided with the schooner Augusta and went down in Lake Michigan, carrying with her three hundred men, women, and children, most of whom were excursionists from Milwaukee. Two months later the propeller Dacotah sank in a terrific gale off Sturgeon Point, Lake Erie, carrying every soul down with her. Nothing but fragments were ever seen afterward, so complete was her destruction. On the steamer Ironsides, which dove down into one hundred and twenty feet of water, twenty-four lives were lost in full sight of Grand105 Haven. Many vessels, like the Ironsides, have perished with their bows almost in harbour. Less than four years ago, for instance, the big steel ship Mataafa was beaten to pieces on the Duluth breakwater, while not more than thirty or forty rods away thousands of people stood helpless, watching the death-struggles of her crew, who were absolutely helpless in the tremendous seas, and who died within shouting distance of their friends.
Three hundred lives! The typical modern tourist would be in shocked disbelief. “Is it really possible,” he might ask, “that such tragedies happened on the Lakes?” I doubt many know that some of the worst maritime disasters in the world have taken place on the Lakes. On September 8, 1860, the Lady Elgin collided with the schooner Augusta and sank in Lake Michigan, taking down three hundred men, women, and children, most of whom were tourists from Milwaukee. Two months later, the propeller Dacotah sank in a fierce storm off Sturgeon Point, Lake Erie, taking every soul with her. Nothing but debris was ever found afterward; her destruction was that complete. On the steamer Ironsides, which went down into one hundred and twenty feet of water, twenty-four lives were lost right in view of Grand105 Haven. Many vessels, like the Ironsides, have sunk with their bows almost in port. Less than four years ago, for example, the large steel ship Mataafa was wrecked on the Duluth breakwater, while just thirty or forty rods away, thousands of people stood powerless, watching as her crew fought for their lives against the monstrous waves, dying within shouting distance of their loved ones.
Probably the most terrible disaster that ever occurred on the Lakes was the burning of the steamer G. P. Griffin, twenty miles east of Cleveland. The vessel was only three miles from shore when the flames were discovered, and her captain at once made an effort to run her aground. Half a mile from the mainland the Griffin struck a sand-bar and immediately there followed one of the most terrible scenes in the annals of marine tragedy. The boats were lowered and swamped by the maddened crowd. Men became beasts, and fought back women and children. Frenzied mothers leaped overboard with their babes in their arms. Scorched by the flames, their faces blackened, their eyes bulging, and even their garments on fire, over three hundred people fought for their lives. Men seized their wives and flung them overboard, leaping after them to destruction; human beings fought like demons for possession of chairs, boards, or any objects that might support them in the water, and others, crazed by the terrible scenes about them,106 dashed into the roaring flames, their dying shrieks mingling with the hopeless cries of those who still struggled for life. From the shore scores of helpless people, without boats, or any means of assistance, watched the frightful spectacle, and strong swimmers struck out to give what aid they could. Only a few were saved. For days scorched and unrecognisable corpses floated ashore, and when the final death-roll was called, it was found that 286 lives had gone out in that frightful hour of fire.
Probably the worst disaster that ever happened on the Lakes was the burning of the steamer G. P. Griffin, twenty miles east of Cleveland. The vessel was only three miles from shore when the flames were spotted, and her captain immediately tried to run her aground. Half a mile from the mainland, the Griffin hit a sandbar, leading to one of the most horrific scenes in maritime history. The lifeboats were launched but swamped by the panicked crowd. Men behaved like animals, pushing away women and children. Desperate mothers jumped overboard with their babies in their arms. Burned by the flames, their faces charred, eyes bulging, and even their clothes on fire, over three hundred people fought for their lives. Men grabbed their wives and threw them overboard, jumping in after them to their doom; people fought like wild animals for chairs, boards, or anything that could keep them afloat, while others, driven mad by the chaos around them, dashed into the raging flames, their dying screams mixed with the desperate cries of those still trying to survive. From the shore, dozens of helpless people, without boats or any means of help, watched the terrifying scene unfold, and strong swimmers tried to offer what assistance they could. Only a few were rescued. For days, burned and unrecognizable bodies washed ashore, and when the final toll was counted, it was determined that 286 lives had been lost in that dreadful hour of fire.
Is there a more tragic page in the history of any ocean than this?—a page to which must still be added the burning of the steamer Erie, with a loss of one hundred and seventy lives, the sinking of the Pewabic with seventy souls off Thunder Bay Light, in Lake Huron, the loss of the Asia with one hundred lives, and scores of other tragedies that might be mentioned. The Inland Seas have borne a burden of loss greater in proportion than that of any of the salt oceans. Their bottoms are literally strewn with the bones of ships and men, their very existence is one of tragedy coupled with the greatest industrial progress the world has ever seen. But there are no books descriptive of their “attractions,” no volumes of fiction or history descriptive of those “thrilling human elements” that tend to draw people from the uttermost ends of the earth. This field yet remains for the writers of to-day.
Is there a more tragic chapter in the history of any ocean than this?—a chapter that must also include the burning of the steamer Erie, where one hundred and seventy lives were lost, the sinking of the Pewabic with seventy people off Thunder Bay Light in Lake Huron, the loss of the Asia with one hundred lives, and countless other tragedies that could be mentioned. The Inland Seas have suffered a loss greater in proportion than that of any saltwater ocean. Their depths are literally filled with the wrecks of ships and the remains of those who perished, and their very existence embodies tragedy alongside the greatest industrial progress the world has ever known. Yet, there are no books about their “attractions,” no novels or histories that capture those “thrilling human elements” that draw people from the farthest corners of the earth. This area still awaits the attention of today’s writers.
And romance walks hand in hand with tragedy on107 the Inland Seas. For two or three years past a new epidemic has been sweeping the world, an epidemic which has attracted attention in every civilised land and to which I might give the name “treasuritis”—the golden ignis fatuus of hidden treasure which is luring men to all parts of the world, and which is bringing about the expenditure of fortunes in the search for other fortunes lost on land or at sea. While South Sea treasure-hunts have been exploited by newspapers and magazines, while Cocos Island and the golden Pacific have overworked the imaginations of thousands, few have heard of the treasure-hunts and lost fortunes of the Lakes. So businesslike are these ventures of the Inland Seas regarded by those who make them, that little of romance or adventure is seen in them.
And romance goes hand in hand with tragedy on107 the Inland Seas. For the past two or three years, a new epidemic has been sweeping across the globe, one that has caught the attention of every civilized country. I might call it “treasuritis”—the golden ignis fatuus of hidden treasure that's tempting people to every corner of the world and leading to the spending of fortunes in the quest for more fortunes lost on land or at sea. While treasure hunts in the South Seas have been heavily promoted by newspapers and magazines, and while Cocos Island and the golden Pacific have sparked the imaginations of countless individuals, few have heard about the treasure hunts and lost fortunes in the Lakes. These ventures on the Inland Seas are viewed so practically by those involved that there's little sense of romance or adventure in them.
How treasures are lost, and sometimes found, in the depths of the Great Lakes is illustrated in the tragic story of the Erie. This vessel, under command of Captain T. J. Titus, left Buffalo for Chicago on the afternoon of August 9, 1841. When thirty-three miles out, off Silver Creek, a slight explosion was heard and almost immediately the ship was enveloped in flames. In the excitement of the appalling loss of life that followed, no thought was given to a treasure of $180,000 that went down with her—the life savings of scores of immigrants bound for the West. For many years the Erie lay hidden in the sands, seventy feet under water. In 1855, a treasure-seeking party left Buffalo,108 discovered the hull, towed it into shallow water, and recovered a fortune, mostly in foreign money.
How treasures are lost, and sometimes found, in the depths of the Great Lakes is illustrated in the tragic story of the Erie. This vessel, commanded by Captain T. J. Titus, left Buffalo for Chicago on the afternoon of August 9, 1841. When it was thirty-three miles out, near Silver Creek, a small explosion was heard and almost immediately the ship was engulfed in flames. In the chaos following the terrible loss of life, no one thought about the treasure of $180,000 that sank with her—the life savings of many immigrants heading West. For many years, the Erie lay buried in the sands, seventy feet underwater. In 1855, a treasure-hunting party left Buffalo,108 discovered the hull, towed it into shallow water, and recovered a fortune, mostly in foreign currency.
Not very long ago a treasure-ship came down from the North—the William H. Stevens, loaded with $101,880 worth of copper. Somewhere between Conneaut, Ohio, and Port Burwell, Ontario, she caught fire and sank. For a long time unavailing efforts were made to recover her treasure. Then Captain Harris W. Baker, of Detroit, fitted out a modern treasure-hunting expedition that was as successful in every way as the most romantic youngster in the land could wish, for he recovered nearly $100,000 worth of the Stevens’s cargo, his own salvage share being $50,000.
Not too long ago, a treasure ship came down from the North—the William H. Stevens, loaded with $101,880 worth of copper. Somewhere between Conneaut, Ohio, and Port Burwell, Ontario, it caught fire and sank. For a while, there were futile attempts to recover its treasure. Then Captain Harris W. Baker from Detroit set up a modern treasure-hunting expedition that was as successful as any adventurous young person could wish for, as he recovered nearly $100,000 worth of the Stevens’s cargo, with his own salvage share being $50,000.

The Steamer “Wahcondah.”
The Steamer "Wahcondah."
One of the Lake grain carriers which was caught in a storm late in the season after being buffeted by the waves of Lake Superior for about fourteen hours.
One of the Lake grain carriers was caught in a storm late in the season after being tossed around by the waves of Lake Superior for about fourteen hours.
While there have been many fortunes recovered from the bottoms of the Lakes, there are many others that still defy discovery. Somewhere along the south shore of Lake Erie, between Dunkirk and Erie, lies a treasure-ship which will bring a fortune to her lucky discoverer, if she is ever found. One night the Dean Richmond, with $50,000 worth of pig zinc on board, mysteriously disappeared between those two places. All hands were lost and their bodies were washed ashore. In vain have search parties sought the lost vessel. The last attempt was made by the Murphy Wrecking Company, of Buffalo, which put a vessel and several divers on the job for the greater part of a season. In the deep water of Saginaw Bay lies the steamship Fay, with $20,000 worth of steel billets in her hold; and somewhere near Walnut Creek, in109 Lake Erie, is the Young Sion, with a valuable cargo of railroad iron. Off Point Pelee is the Kent, with a treasure in money in her hulk and the skeletons of eight human beings in her cabins; and somewhere between Cleveland and the Detroit River is a cargo of locomotives, lost with the Clarion. In Lake Huron, near Saginaw Bay, are more lost ships than in any other part of the Great Lakes, and for this reason Huron has frequently been called the “Lake of Sunken Treasure.” In the days when the country along the Bay was filled with lumber-camps, large sums of money were brought up in small vessels, and many of these vessels were lost in the sudden tempests and fearful seas which beset this part of Huron. Beside these treasure lumber barges, it is believed that the City of Detroit, with a $50,000 treasure in copper, lies somewhere in Saginaw Bay. The R. G. Coburn, also laden with copper, sank there in 1871, with a loss of thirty lives. Although searches have been made for her, the location of the vessel is still one of the unsolved mysteries of the Lakes.
While many fortunes have been recovered from the depths of the Lakes, countless others still elude discovery. Somewhere along the south shore of Lake Erie, between Dunkirk and Erie, lies a treasure ship that could bring a fortune to its lucky finder, if it's ever found. One night, the Dean Richmond, carrying $50,000 worth of pig zinc, mysteriously vanished between those two places. All hands were lost, and their bodies washed ashore. Search parties have tried in vain to find the lost vessel. The last attempt was made by the Murphy Wrecking Company from Buffalo, which deployed a ship and several divers to the task for most of a season. In the deep waters of Saginaw Bay rests the steamship Fay, holding $20,000 worth of steel billets; and near Walnut Creek, in 109 Lake Erie, lies the Young Sion, with a valuable cargo of railroad iron. Off Point Pelee is the Kent, containing treasure in cash in her hulk along with the remains of eight people in her cabins; and somewhere between Cleveland and the Detroit River is a cargo of locomotives lost with the Clarion. Lake Huron has more lost ships than any other area of the Great Lakes, which is why it’s often referred to as the “Lake of Sunken Treasure.” In the days when the region around the Bay was filled with lumber camps, large amounts of money were transported in small vessels, many of which were lost in the sudden storms and treacherous seas that often troubled this part of Huron. Besides these treasure-laden lumber barges, it is believed that the City of Detroit, with a $50,000 treasure in copper, lies somewhere in Saginaw Bay. The R. G. Coburn, also carrying copper, sank there in 1871, claiming thirty lives. Although efforts have been made to locate her, the wreck remains one of the unsolved mysteries of the Lakes.
That treasure-hunting is not without its romance, as well as its reward, is shown by the case of the Pewabic. This vessel, with her treasure in copper, disappeared as completely as though she had been lifted above the clouds. Expedition after expedition was fitted out to search for her—a search which continued over a period of thirty years. In 1897, a party of fortune-seekers from Milwaukee succeeded in finding the long-110lost ship six miles south-east of Thunder Bay. Another terrible event was the loss of the steamer Atlantic, off Long Point, Lake Erie, with three hundred lives. For many years, futile search was made for her; not till nearly a quarter of a century was she found, and $30,000 recovered.
That treasure-hunting has its own excitement, as well as its rewards, is demonstrated by the case of the Pewabic. This ship, with her treasure of copper, vanished completely as if she had been taken above the clouds. Expedition after expedition was launched to search for her—a quest that lasted over thirty years. In 1897, a group of fortune-seekers from Milwaukee managed to locate the long-110lost ship six miles southeast of Thunder Bay. Another tragic event was the sinking of the steamer Atlantic off Long Point, Lake Erie, resulting in three hundred casualties. For many years, there was a futile search for her; it wasn’t until nearly twenty-five years later that she was found, and $30,000 was recovered.

This is One of the Most Remarkable Photographs ever Taken on the Lakes. It Shows a Sinking Lumber Barge just as She Was Breaking in Two.
This is one of the most remarkable photographs ever taken on the lakes. It shows a sinking lumber barge just as it was breaking in two.
The Photograph was taken from a small boat.
The photo was taken from a small boat.
Whisky and coal form quite an important part of the treasure which awaits recovery in the Inland Seas. Many vessels with cargoes of whisky have been lost, and this liquor would be as good to-day as when it went down. In 1846, the Lexington, Captain Peer, cleared from Cleveland for Port Huron, freighted with one hundred and ten barrels of whisky. In mid-lake, the vessel foundered with all on board, and though more than sixty years have passed, she has never been found. To-day her cargo would be worth $115 a barrel. The Anthony Wayne also sank in Lake Erie with three hundred barrels of whisky and of wine; and five years afterwards, the Westmoreland sank near Manitou Island with a similar cargo. These are only a few of many such cargoes now at the bottom of the Lakes. Of treasure in lost coal, that of the Gilcher and Ostrich, steamer and tow, that disappeared in Lake Michigan, is one of the largest. The two vessels carried three thousand tons, and as yet they have not been traced to their resting place. In 1895, the steamer Africa went down in a gale on Lake Huron, carrying two thousand tons of coal with her, and at the bottom of Lake Ontario is the ship St. Peter, with a big cargo111 of fuel. It is estimated that at least half a million dollars in coal awaits recovery at the bottom of the Lakes.
Whisky and coal are a significant part of the treasure waiting to be recovered in the Inland Seas. Many ships carrying whisky have sunk, and this liquor would be just as good today as it was when it went down. In 1846, the Lexington, captained by Peer, left Cleveland for Port Huron, loaded with one hundred and ten barrels of whisky. Mid-lake, the ship sank with everyone on board, and despite more than sixty years passing, it has never been found. Today, her cargo would be worth $115 per barrel. The Anthony Wayne also sank in Lake Erie with three hundred barrels of whisky and wine, and five years later, the Westmoreland went down near Manitou Island with a similar load. These are just a few of the many cargoes now resting at the bottom of the Lakes. Regarding lost coal, the Gilcher and Ostrich, a steamer and tow that vanished in Lake Michigan, is one of the largest. The two vessels were carrying three thousand tons, and their resting place has yet to be found. In 1895, the steamer Africa sank in a storm on Lake Huron, taking down two thousand tons of coal with her, and at the bottom of Lake Ontario lies the ship St. Peter, with a large cargo of fuel. It is estimated that at least half a million dollars' worth of coal is waiting to be recovered at the bottom of the Lakes.
But, after all, perhaps the most romantic of all disappearances on the Inland Seas is that of the Griffin, built by La Salle at the foot of Lake Erie, in January, 1679. The Griffin sailed across Lake Erie, up the Detroit River, and continued until she entered Lake Michigan. In the autumn of 1680, she started on her return trip, laden with furs and with $12,000 in gold. She was never heard of again, and historians are generally of the opinion that the little vessel sank during a storm on Lake Huron.
But after all, maybe the most romantic disappearance on the Inland Seas is that of the Griffin, built by La Salle at the foot of Lake Erie in January 1679. The Griffin sailed across Lake Erie, up the Detroit River, and continued until she entered Lake Michigan. In the autumn of 1680, she began her return trip, loaded with furs and $12,000 in gold. She was never seen again, and historians generally believe that the little vessel sank during a storm on Lake Huron.
Or it may be that one must choose between this earliest voyager of the Lakes and that other shrouded mystery—the “Frozen Ship.” Lake Superior has been the scene of as weird happenings as any tropic sea, and this of the Frozen Ship, perhaps, is the weirdest of all. She was a schooner, with towering masts, of the days when canvas was monarch of the seas; and the captain was her owner, who set out one day in late November for a more southern port than Duluth. And then came the Great Storm—that storm which comes once each year in the days of late navigation to add to the lists of ships and men lost and dead—and just what happened to the schooner no living man can say. But one day, many weeks afterward, the corpse of a ship was found on the edge of the pine wilderness on the north Superior shore; and around112 and above this ship were the tracks of wild animals, and from stem to stern she was a mass of ice and snow, and when she was entered two men were found in her, frozen stiff, just as the “Frozen Pirate” was discovered in a story not so true.
Or maybe one has to choose between this first traveler of the Lakes and that other mysterious entity—the “Frozen Ship.” Lake Superior has seen some of the strangest events as any tropical sea, and the Frozen Ship story is perhaps the strangest of all. She was a schooner with towering masts, from the days when canvas ruled the seas; her captain was also her owner, who departed one late November day for a port farther south than Duluth. Then came the Great Storm— that storm that hits once a year in the late navigation days, adding to the count of lost ships and men—and no one knows exactly what happened to the schooner. But one day, many weeks later, the wreck of a ship was found on the edge of the pine wilderness on the northern shore of Superior; around112 and above this ship were the tracks of wild animals, and from bow to stern, she was a mass of ice and snow. When they went inside, two men were found in her, frozen solid, just like the “Frozen Pirate” in a tale that isn’t entirely true.
So might the tragedy and the romance of the Inland Seas be written without end, for each year adds a new chapter to the old; and yet, how many thousands of our seekers of novelty say, with the young woman I know, “I want to go where something has happened—where there have been battles, and pirates, and where there’s sunken ships, and treasure, and things!”
So the tragedy and the romance of the Inland Seas could be told endlessly, as each year adds a new chapter to the old; and yet, how many thousands of our novelty seekers say, like the young woman I know, “I want to go where something has happened—where there have been battles, and pirates, and where there are sunken ships, and treasure, and cool stuff!”
Is the day approaching when Buffalo and not Chicago will be the second largest city in the United States? and when, at the end of Lake Superior, her back doors filled with the treasures of the earth and with a developed empire about her, Duluth will claim a million inhabitants? Is the day far distant when the world’s greatest manufacturing city will be located on the Niagara River? and when, as steel men all the world over believe, Duluth will be a second and perhaps greater Pittsburg?
Is the day coming when Buffalo, not Chicago, will be the second largest city in the United States? And when, at the end of Lake Superior, with its back doors packed with the earth's riches and a thriving empire surrounding it, will Duluth boast a million residents? Is it far off when the world's biggest manufacturing city will sit on the Niagara River? And when, as steel industry experts everywhere believe, Duluth will become a second, maybe even greater, Pittsburgh?
These are questions which have never been of greater interest than now, when the State of New York is expending over a hundred million dollars on the new Erie Canal, thus “bringing Buffalo and the Lakes to the sea,” and when, at the same time, the United States Steel Corporation is devoting ten million dollars to the erection of the most modern steel plant in the world at Duluth.
These are questions that are more relevant now than ever, especially as the State of New York is spending over a hundred million dollars on the new Erie Canal, effectively “connecting Buffalo and the Lakes to the sea.” At the same time, the United States Steel Corporation is investing ten million dollars to build the most advanced steel plant in the world in Duluth.
“Buffalo is the great doorway of the Inland Seas,” said President McKinley only a short time before114 his tragic death. “Some day she will reach out to the ocean, and when that time comes she will be one of the greatest cities in the world.” For many years the people of Buffalo have dreamed of this. And now it is coming true. And while the Pittsburger, entrenched in the prosperity of steel and fortified behind the smoke of his own mills, has been laughing at prophecies, away up at the end of the thousand-mile highway that leads to Duluth, other people have been dreaming. And their dreams, too, are coming true. For years the silent struggle for the supremacy of cities has been in progress along the Great Lakes. The outside world has seen little of it, and has heard little of it. Now the beginning of the end is at hand. The two great doors of the Inland Seas have been opened wide. At one end is Duluth, at the other Buffalo. Chicago is great, Buffalo may be greater. Pittsburg, like ancient Rome, feels that hers is to be a reign unbroken, and that she will still be “Pittsburg, Queen of the World of Steel” until the last call of Judgment Day. In another ten years—perhaps in less time—she will recognise the power of her rival in the North.
“Buffalo is the great gateway to the Inland Seas,” said President McKinley shortly before114 his tragic death. “One day she will connect with the ocean, and when that happens, she will be one of the greatest cities in the world.” For many years, the people of Buffalo have dreamed of this. And now it’s becoming a reality. While the people of Pittsburgh, secure in the wealth of steel and shielded by the smoke from their own mills, have been mocking these predictions, people at the far end of the thousand-mile highway leading to Duluth have been dreaming, too. And their dreams are coming true. For years, the quiet competition for city supremacy has been unfolding along the Great Lakes. The outside world has noticed little of it and heard even less. Now the beginning of the end is approaching. The two great gateways to the Inland Seas have been swung wide open. At one end is Duluth, and at the other is Buffalo. Chicago is impressive, but Buffalo could be even greater. Pittsburgh, like ancient Rome, believes it will have an unbroken reign and will still be “Pittsburgh, Queen of the World of Steel” until the final Judgment Day. In another ten years—maybe even sooner—she will acknowledge the strength of her northern rival.

The Residence of A. Wilcox at Buffalo.
The home of A. Wilcox in Buffalo.
Where President Roosevelt took the oath of office.
Where President Roosevelt swore in as president.
Copyright 1908 by Detroit Photographic Co.
Copyright 1908 by Detroit Photographic Co.
These are predictions, but they are well founded. To find just why they are made, one must go among the powerful men of the Lakes, among the iron barons of the North and the coal barons of the South and East—must, in short, become acquainted with the entire commercial and industrial mechanism which115 exists on the Great Lakes to-day. They are not predictions that can be arrived at from New York, or San Francisco, or London, or Liverpool. One must talk with the men who make them, must live among those commercial and industrial conditions for a long time, and must know at first hand the two cities we speak of—Buffalo and Duluth. They are predictions which have a solid foundation of facts, and these facts are what make these two cities the most interesting as well as the most important ports in the Western World, with the exception of New York City. I venture to say that only a ridiculously small percentage of our own people—of Americans, whose very existence as an industrial and commercial power depends largely upon the Lakes—know these two cities beyond their names, their location, and possibly the number of their inhabitants. How many, for instance, know that to-day Duluth is the second greatest freight-shipping port on earth; that London, the capital of the British Empire, queen of the world’s commerce for many years, has abdicated in favour of a port so remote from the heart of British commercial enterprise that it is doubtful if fifty thousand of the five million people of London have ever heard of the name of the city which has taken the place of the world’s metropolis in the list of the great harbours of the world? And how many know, as well, that within a single night’s ride of the city of Buffalo—within a radius116 of less than five hundred miles—live sixty per cent. of the total population of North America?
These are predictions, but they're based on solid reasoning. To understand why they are made, you need to dive into the world of powerful individuals around the Great Lakes, including the iron barons of the North and the coal barons of the South and East. Essentially, you need to get familiar with the entire commercial and industrial system that115 exists on the Great Lakes today. These aren’t predictions you can come to from New York, San Francisco, London, or Liverpool. You have to speak with the people who are shaping them, immerse yourself in those commercial and industrial conditions for a while, and get to know well the two cities we’re discussing—Buffalo and Duluth. These predictions are grounded in facts, and it’s these facts that make Buffalo and Duluth the most fascinating and significant ports in the Western World, aside from New York City. I’ll say that only an incredibly small percentage of our fellow Americans—whose very status as an industrial and commercial power heavily relies on the Lakes—actually know anything about these two cities beyond their names, their locations, and maybe how many people live there. For example, how many people know that Duluth is currently the second largest freight-shipping port in the world? That London, the capital of the British Empire and once the center of global commerce, has given way to a port so far from the heart of British business that it’s unlikely even fifty thousand of London’s five million residents have ever heard of the city that has replaced the world’s metropolis in the rankings of major harbors? And how many are aware that just a night’s travel from Buffalo—within a radius116 of less than five hundred miles—lives sixty percent of the total population of North America?

A Bird’s-eye View of the Harbour of Duluth, Taken from the Hill.
A Bird’s-eye View of the Harbor of Duluth, Taken from the Hill.
From a Photograph by Maher, Duluth.
From a Photo by Maher, Duluth.
These are only two of the remarkable facts about Buffalo and Duluth, the Alpha and Omega of the Inland Seas. That they are now two of the greatest freight-distributing points in the United States is shown by figures; that within the next generation they will become the two greatest distributing cities in the world is almost a certainty. It is not only Lake commerce that assures their destinies. Logically, they are situated to rule the world of commerce in the United States. Duluth is approximately midway in the continent, with a clear waterway soon to reach to the ocean, and with the great West behind her already webbed, with Duluth as the centre, by thirty-seven thousand miles of rail; and Buffalo, with sixty million people within five hundred miles of her City Hall, with fifteen great trunk-lines entering the city, with the greatest electrical power of the age at her doors, with “one hand on the ocean and the other on the Inland Seas,” holds a position which no other city can ever hope to attain. According to H. C. Elwood, Chairman of the Transportation Committee of the Chamber of Commerce of Buffalo, the combined rail and water tonnage of that city is not exceeded by that of any other city in the United States, with the exception of Pittsburg. And the story of Buffalo’s commerce has just begun. In 1885, Buffalo’s total tonnage of iron ore received117 by Lake was only a little more than eight thousand,—less than the single cargo carried by one of the great freighters of the Inland Seas to-day! Last year it was five and a half millions. The position that both Buffalo and Duluth hold in the commerce of the Lakes is briefly told in figures. Of the total tonnage of ninety-seven million carried on the Lakes in 1907, more than fourteen and a half million were registered at Buffalo and thirty-five million at Duluth-Superior. In other words, over a half of the total tonnage of the Lakes passed in or out of these two great doors of the Inland Seas in 1907.
These are just two of the amazing facts about Buffalo and Duluth, the Alpha and Omega of the Inland Seas. Their status as two of the biggest freight-distributing hubs in the United States is backed by statistics; it's almost guaranteed that within the next generation, they will become the two largest distributing cities in the world. It's not just Lake commerce that secures their futures. Logically, they are positioned to dominate the world of commerce in the United States. Duluth is about halfway across the continent, with a direct waterway soon to connect to the ocean, and the vast West supporting it, already linked by thirty-seven thousand miles of rail with Duluth at the center. Buffalo, with sixty million people living within five hundred miles of its City Hall, has fifteen major trunk lines entering the city, the greatest electrical power of the era at its doorstep, and is “one hand on the ocean and the other on the Inland Seas,” giving it a standing no other city can hope to achieve. According to H. C. Elwood, Chairman of the Transportation Committee of the Buffalo Chamber of Commerce, the total rail and water tonnage of Buffalo is not surpassed by any other city in the United States, apart from Pittsburgh. And Buffalo's story in commerce has only just begun. In 1885, Buffalo's total iron ore tonnage received by Lake was just over eight thousand—less than a single cargo carried by one of today's large freighters on the Inland Seas! Last year, it reached five and a half million. The significant roles that both Buffalo and Duluth play in Lake commerce are reflected in the numbers. Out of the total of ninety-seven million tons carried on the Lakes in 1907, over fourteen and a half million were recorded at Buffalo and thirty-five million at Duluth-Superior. In other words, more than half of the total tonnage of the Lakes moved in or out of these two major gateways to the Inland Seas in 1907.
There are few cities in the world to-day in which romance and adventure have combined in more extraordinary ways with calamity, failure, and indomitable courage than in the upbuilding of Duluth. Chiselled back into the rocky hillsides, terrace upon terrace, and stretching for miles along the bay front where only a quarter of a century ago was the wild and rugged grandeur of virgin wilderness; built upon rock, and in rock; looking down upon one of the finest harbours in the world on one hand, and up over vast regions red with iron treasure on the other, Duluth is one of the most beautiful cities in the United States—one of the most wonderful and most interesting. Twenty-five years ago, only a village marked this stronghold of the iron barons. The deer, the wolf, the bear, the moose roamed unafraid over places now alive with commercial activity. Into the vast118 unexplored wildernesses, even less than a dozen years ago, prospectors went out with their packs and their guns, and searched and starved and even died for the “ugly wealth” hidden in the ranges that are now giving to the world three quarters of its iron and steel. And to-day many of these same men, “whose callouses of the old prospecting days have hardly worn away,” live in a city of eighty thousand people, whose annual receipts from its industries aggregate fifty-five million dollars, and whose invested wealth is over one hundred and fifty millions. While London, Liverpool, Hamburg, Antwerp, Hong-kong, and Marseilles have had eyes for New York alone in this Western World, while the ports of ancient and historic renown have been struggling among themselves for supremacy, away up at the end of the Lake Superior wilderness the second greatest freight-shipping port in the world was building itself, quietly, unobtrusively, unknown. That is the story of Duluth in a nutshell.
There are few cities in the world today where romance and adventure have merged so remarkably with calamity, failure, and unyielding courage as in the development of Duluth. Carved into the rocky hillsides, tier upon tier, and extending for miles along the waterfront that just a quarter-century ago was wild and rugged wilderness; built on rock and into rock; overlooking one of the finest harbors globally on one side, and above vast regions full of iron treasure on the other, Duluth is one of the most beautiful cities in the United States—truly one of the most wonderful and interesting. Twenty-five years ago, only a village marked this stronghold of the iron barons. Deer, wolves, bears, and moose roamed freely in places now bustling with commercial activity. Into the vast unexplored wilderness, even less than a dozen years ago, prospectors ventured out with their packs and guns, searching, starving, and even dying for the “ugly wealth” hidden in the ranges that now provide three-quarters of the world’s iron and steel. Today, many of these same men, “whose callouses from the old prospecting days have hardly faded,” live in a city of eighty thousand people, whose annual industrial receipts total fifty-five million dollars, and whose invested wealth exceeds one hundred and fifty million. While London, Liverpool, Hamburg, Antwerp, Hong Kong, and Marseilles have focused solely on New York in this Western World, and while the ports of ancient and historic prominence have been vying for supremacy, far up at the end of the Lake Superior wilderness, the second-largest freight-shipping port in the world was quietly growing, unobtrusively, and without recognition. That is the story of Duluth in a nutshell.

The Ship Canal and Aërial Bridge, Duluth, Minn.
The Ship Canal and Aerial Bridge, Duluth, MN.
Copyright 1908 by Detroit Photographic Co.
Copyright 1908 by Detroit Photographic Co.
But it is only the first chapter. The others will be written even more quickly, perhaps with even greater results. The commerce of America’s five Inland Seas has but just commenced, and the growth of this commerce and the growth of Duluth go hand in hand. In 1892, for instance, only four thousand tons of ore were shipped from the Duluth-Superior harbour; in 1907, including the sub-port of Two Harbours, the total was nearly thirty millions! And this same percentage of increase holds good with other119 products. Fifteen years ago very few people along our seaboards would have recognised the name of Duluth; to those who knew the town it was often an object of ridicule—the “pricked balloon,” the “town of blasted hopes.” Yet in 1907, this same town, still unknown in a large sense, handled one sixth of the combined tonnage of all the two hundred and forty shipping ports on the coast of the United States. During the two hundred and fifty days of navigation in 1907, an average of fifty-six vessels entered or left Duluth each day, or one ship every twenty-six minutes, day and night, for eight months. These vessels carried cargoes valued at two hundred and eighty-eight million dollars. In other words, over a million dollars a day left or entered Duluth-Superior harbour.
But this is just the first chapter. The rest will be written even faster, possibly with even better results. The trade in America’s five Inland Seas has only just begun, and the growth of this trade goes hand in hand with the growth of Duluth. In 1892, for example, only four thousand tons of ore were shipped from the Duluth-Superior harbor; by 1907, including the sub-port of Two Harbors, that number had jumped to nearly thirty million! This same growth rate applies to other119 products as well. Fifteen years ago, very few people along our coastlines would have recognized the name Duluth; to those who did, it was often a source of mockery—the “pricked balloon,” the “town of shattered dreams.” Yet in 1907, this same town, still largely unknown, handled one-sixth of the total tonnage of all two hundred and forty shipping ports on the U.S. coast. During the two hundred and fifty days of navigation in 1907, an average of fifty-six vessels entered or exited Duluth every day, or one ship every twenty-six minutes, day and night, for eight months. These ships carried cargoes valued at two hundred and eighty-eight million dollars. In other words, over a million dollars a day moved in and out of Duluth-Superior harbor.
Not long ago a writer who was seeking information on the possibilities of our inland waterways asked me what would happen when, as experts predicted, the ore of the North became exhausted. “Where will Duluth be then?” he questioned. This is what nine people out of ten ask, who are at all interested in the future of Duluth. There seems to be an almost universal opinion among people who do not live along the Lakes that, with the exhaustion of the great iron deposits, the commerce of our Inland Seas will dwindle. A more near-sighted supposition than this could hardly be imagined. At the present time ore is the greatest object of commerce on the Great120 Lakes, and it will continue to be so for many years. It is safe to say that the day is not far distant when fifty million tons of iron ore, instead of thirty million, will leave Duluth each year; and at the same time millions of tons of steel will be leaving by rail. But Duluth’s great future does not rest on iron and steel alone. As I have said, thirty-seven thousand miles of rail already reach out from the city into the vast agricultural regions of the West. It is the one logical doorway of the vast empire at its back, to which it offers the cheapest and shortest route to the Atlantic and Europe; just as it must become the great distributing point through which the bulk of the vast commerce of the East will flow into the West. There is more agricultural and grazing land tributary to it than to any other port in America. And Minnesota is still one of the great timber States of the country in spite of the vast scale on which lumber operations have been carried on within its boundaries during the past few years. Lake, Cook, and other northern counties (several of these counties are each as large as a small State) possess great forest wealth, and for many years to come Duluth will be the great lumber-shipping port of the Lakes.
Not long ago, a writer looking for information about the potential of our inland waterways asked me what would happen when, as experts predict, the North’s ore runs out. “Where will Duluth be then?” he asked. This is the question that nine out of ten people interested in Duluth's future ask. Many people who don’t live near the Great Lakes seem to think that when the vast iron deposits are depleted, the trade on our inland waters will decline. It’s hard to imagine a more short-sighted assumption. Right now, ore is the most significant commodity traded on the Great120 Lakes, and it will remain so for many years. It's safe to say that it won't be long before fifty million tons of iron ore, instead of thirty million, will depart Duluth each year; meanwhile, millions of tons of steel will also be transported by rail. However, Duluth's bright future doesn't rely solely on iron and steel. As I've mentioned, thirty-seven thousand miles of rail already extend from the city into the extensive agricultural zones of the West. It’s the only logical access point to the vast empire behind it, providing the most affordable and direct route to the Atlantic and Europe; just as it will become the main distribution center for the significant commerce flowing from the East to the West. There’s more farmland and grazing land connected to it than any other port in America. Plus, Minnesota remains one of the country's major timber states, despite the extensive lumber operations that have occurred within its borders in recent years. Lake, Cook, and other northern counties (some of these counties are as large as small states) hold substantial forest resources, and for many years to come, Duluth will be the primary lumber-shipping port of the Great Lakes.
These are a few of the reasons why Duluthians see in their city a future metropolis of perhaps a million people.
These are some of the reasons why people in Duluth envision their city as a future metropolis with a population of maybe a million.
Though a large part of the almost endless fertile regions behind it are still undeveloped, Duluth has121 already become the great grain-shipping port of the world. In 1907, over eighty million bushels of grain were shipped from the Duluth-Superior harbour, or a bushel for every man, woman, and child in the United States. There was a time when it was thought that Chicago would always be the greatest grain port on earth. But that time has passed. Of the grain received at Buffalo in 1907, less than forty-two million bushels came from Chicago, while more than sixty-three million were shipped from Duluth-Superior. And this grain traffic is growing even more rapidly than the ore traffic. Ships can hardly be built fast enough to handle the volumes of wheat, oats, barley, and flax that come by rail into Duluth. The city can handle one thousand cars a day, or a million bushels, and yet this is not fast enough. So great is the crush at times that cars of grain are lost for three weeks in the yards! In the not distant future, Duluth will be handling two thousand cars a day. Not only wheat, oats, corn, rye, and barley are pouring into Duluth from the West, but she has now taken first place as shipper of flaxseed, nearly twenty million bushels having left Duluth-Superior harbour last year. Just what this quantity of flaxseed means very few people unacquainted with that product can realise. Take the four hundred thousand bushels brought down to Buffalo by the D. R. Hanna in a single trip, for instance. It was loaded in seven hours and was the product of forty thousand acres,122 or sixty-two square miles. It was worth $460,000, and would make one million gallons of linseed oil.
Although much of the nearly endless fertile land behind it remains undeveloped, Duluth has121 already become the world's top grain-shipping port. In 1907, over eighty million bushels of grain were shipped from the Duluth-Superior harbor, equating to a bushel for every man, woman, and child in the United States. There was a time when it was believed that Chicago would always be the largest grain port on the planet. But that time has passed. Of the grain received at Buffalo in 1907, less than forty-two million bushels originated from Chicago, while more than sixty-three million were shipped from Duluth-Superior. And this grain traffic is growing even faster than the ore traffic. Ships can hardly be built quickly enough to accommodate the volumes of wheat, oats, barley, and flax that arrive by rail into Duluth. The city can handle one thousand cars a day, or a million bushels, yet this is still insufficient. At times, the congestion is so severe that cars of grain are lost for three weeks in the yards! In the near future, Duluth will be managing two thousand cars a day. Not only are wheat, oats, corn, rye, and barley flooding into Duluth from the West, but it has now taken the lead as the shipper of flaxseed, with almost twenty million bushels leaving the Duluth-Superior harbor last year. The significance of this quantity of flaxseed is hard for most people unfamiliar with that product to grasp. For example, consider the four hundred thousand bushels transported to Buffalo by the D. R. Hanna on a single trip. It was loaded in seven hours and came from forty thousand acres,122 or sixty-two square miles. It was valued at $460,000 and would produce one million gallons of linseed oil.
Probably the most memorable day in the history of Duluth was April 1, 1907, for on that day official notice was received from New York that the Steel Corporation had decided to establish an iron and steel plant in Duluth. At first it was planned to cost ten million dollars. Now it is believed that much more than this will be expended. Preliminary work has already commenced, and within a year and a half it is expected that the plant will be in operation. This movement on the part of the great corporation that rules the world of steel is for several reasons the most interesting that it has ever made. For years, the ore of the North has been carried a thousand miles to the smelters of the East. To reach Pittsburg, it was not only transported that thousand miles, but was loaded three times and unloaded three times. And, meantime, while millions of dollars were being expended on the transportation of ore, while cities half-way across the continent existed and were growing because of their smelters, the city of Duluth, with the vast iron deposits at her back door, was not making a ton of steel. This is one of the mysteries which the Steel Corporation does not explain; but it is fair to assume that hitherto there has not been a sufficient market for the products of such a plant within paying reach of this port.
Probably the most memorable day in the history of Duluth was April 1, 1907, because on that day, official notice was received from New York that the Steel Corporation had decided to set up an iron and steel plant in Duluth. Initially, the planned cost was ten million dollars, but now it's believed that much more will be spent. Preliminary work has already started, and it’s expected that the plant will be operational within a year and a half. This move by the huge corporation that dominates the steel industry is interesting for several reasons. For years, the ore from the North has been transported a thousand miles to the smelters in the East. To get to Pittsburgh, it was loaded and unloaded three times over that distance. Meanwhile, while millions of dollars were spent on moving ore, cities halfway across the continent flourished because of their smelters, Duluth, with its vast iron deposits right in its backyard, wasn’t producing a single ton of steel. This is one of the mysteries that the Steel Corporation doesn’t explain, but it’s reasonable to assume that until now, there hasn't been enough demand for the products from such a plant within a profitable distance from this port.

The new plant will bring thirty thousand people123 to Duluth—and this is not the end. Those who are acquainted with the situation say that it is but the first step in the making of a second Pittsburg. “The steel industry,” they say, “brought almost a million people and billions of dollars to Pittsburg—a city a thousand miles from its ore, and without natural advantages. What, then, will it mean to Duluth, with its strategic position on the great highways of commerce, with its cheap water-power, and above all with its ore ready to be dumped direct from the mine cars into the smelters?”
The new plant will bring thirty thousand people123 to Duluth—and this is just the beginning. Those familiar with the situation say that this is merely the first step toward creating a second Pittsburgh. “The steel industry,” they say, “brought nearly a million people and billions of dollars to Pittsburgh—a city a thousand miles away from its ore, and without natural advantages. So, what will this mean for Duluth, with its strategic location on the major trade routes, its affordable hydroelectric power, and especially its ore that can be sent straight from the mine cars to the smelters?”
In short, the dreams of Duluth’s old “boomers” are coming true. The great East, with its railroad and manufacturing development, has been supplied with its steel—from Pittsburg. Now it is the West and South-west, and the Orient, to which our great volumes of steel trade will turn. It is Duluth’s chance. Because the ore is at her doors, she can turn out iron and steel cheaper than any other city in the world; and she is the nearest distributing point to the West. This movement to Duluth is inevitable. The world’s steel industry has been constantly moving and changing. Since 1564, the centre of the industry has moved from Birmingham, England, from Lynn through Connecticut to New Jersey, then to Philadelphia, and lastly to Pittsburg, where it has remained for fifty years. Of late years, the tendency has been westward, the movement culminating in Chicago. Now it is centring in Duluth. In a way, Duluth’s124 history will be similar to that of Pittsburg. Duluth and Superior, twin cities with one harbour and identical interests, cannot follow the example of Pittsburg and Allegheny, and unite politically, as State lines divide them, Duluth being in Minnesota and Superior in Wisconsin; but commercially they are fast becoming one. Together they will not only head the ports of the world, probably for all time to come, but will become one of the greatest manufacturing centres on the continent. With a harbour frontage of forty-five miles, with electrical power from the St. Louis Falls second only to that of Niagara, with iron and steel at her doors, and with a world-market behind her, Duluth, already the largest coal-receiving port in the world, possesses manufacturing advantages beyond those of any other city on the continent, with the exception of Buffalo. There are good reasons why this coming Pittsburg of the North will never equal Buffalo in population and commercial activity; there are just as good reasons why no other city in the United States, with the exception of New York and Chicago, will equal Buffalo. At the same time, as a member of the Steel Corporation said to me: “If steel and only a few natural advantages made Pittsburg what it is—what will steel, and all the natural advantages in the world, do for Duluth?”
In short, the dreams of Duluth’s old “boomers” are becoming a reality. The East, with its railroad and manufacturing growth, has been supplied with steel from Pittsburgh. Now, it’s the West, Southwest, and the Orient that will receive our massive steel trade. This is Duluth’s opportunity. Since the ore is right at her doorstep, she can produce iron and steel cheaper than any other city in the world, and she's the closest distribution point to the West. This shift to Duluth is unavoidable. The global steel industry has been continually evolving and changing. Since 1564, the center of the industry has shifted from Birmingham, England, through Lynn and Connecticut to New Jersey, then to Philadelphia, and finally to Pittsburgh, where it has stayed for fifty years. Recently, the trend has been moving west, culminating in Chicago. Now, it’s focusing on Duluth. In a way, Duluth’s 124 history will echo that of Pittsburgh. Duluth and Superior, twin cities with one harbor and shared interests, cannot politically unite like Pittsburgh and Allegheny because state lines separate them, with Duluth in Minnesota and Superior in Wisconsin; however, they are quickly coming together commercially. Together, they will not only lead the ports of the world likely for years to come, but will also become one of the continent's greatest manufacturing hubs. With a harbor stretching forty-five miles, electrical power from the St. Louis Falls that is second only to Niagara, access to iron and steel on her doorstep, and a world market at her back, Duluth, already the largest coal-receiving port in the world, has manufacturing advantages that surpass any other city on the continent, except for Buffalo. There are solid reasons why this coming Pittsburgh of the North may never match Buffalo in population and commercial activity; just as there are strong reasons why no other U.S. city, aside from New York and Chicago, will match Buffalo. At the same time, as a member of the Steel Corporation said to me: “If steel and just a few natural advantages made Pittsburgh what it is—what can steel, combined with all the natural advantages in the world, do for Duluth?”

Of course it is not possible to conceive that Duluth, even as a great steel city, would use more than a small fraction of the enormous ore tonnage that is125 annually taken from the Minnesota ranges. If millions of dollars were spent each year in the erection of new steel plants in Duluth, even the annual increase of ore taken from the mines could not be used at home for a long time to come. The ore traffic on the Lakes is bound to become larger even as Duluth develops into a steel city. And a constantly increasing percentage of this ore is going to Buffao—not to be transhipped to Pittsburg, but to be converted into iron and steel in that city. I believe that very few people are aware of the fact that Buffalo is already an important iron- and steel-making plant. The largest independent steel-making plant in the United States is now in operation in South Buffalo. This is the Lackawanna Iron and Steel Company, capitalized at sixty million dollars, employing between six and ten thousand men, and undergoing constant enlargement. The plants of the New York Steel Company and the Wickwire Steel Company are now in course of construction on the Buffalo and Niagara rivers, and other steel- and iron-making plants are in operation. Each year sees Buffalo drawing more and more ore away from the Pittsburg smelters. In 1900, Buffalo made only three hundred and seventy thousand tons of pig-iron. In 1907, the production was one million three hundred and fifty thousand tons, and in 1909 there will be a considerable increase. A recent investigation showed that the many great iron-producing and iron-working plants which extend126 along the navigable waters of the Buffalo have doubled their pay-rolls and almost trebled their production since 1900. The same investigation brought forth the fact that a ton of foundry iron can be produced in Buffalo for sixty-three cents less than in Pittsburg. After a year’s study of the situation in Buffalo, Mr. Elisha Walker, the international expert in iron and steel manufacture, said that, in a few years, Buffalo would rival Pittsburg in the use of iron ore.
Of course, it's hard to imagine that Duluth, even as a major steel city, would utilize more than a small portion of the massive ore tonnage that is125 taken from the Minnesota ranges each year. Even if millions of dollars were invested annually in building new steel plants in Duluth, the annual increase in ore extracted from the mines wouldn’t be enough to keep up for a long time. The ore traffic on the Lakes is bound to grow, even as Duluth develops into a steel city. An ever-increasing percentage of this ore is headed to Buffalo—not just to be shipped to Pittsburgh, but to be processed into iron and steel right in Buffalo. I think very few people realize that Buffalo is already a significant iron and steel production hub. The largest independent steel plant in the United States is currently operating in South Buffalo. This is the Lackawanna Iron and Steel Company, which is capitalized at sixty million dollars, employs between six and ten thousand people, and is constantly expanding. The New York Steel Company and the Wickwire Steel Company are now constructing facilities on the Buffalo and Niagara rivers, along with other steel and iron production plants already in operation. Every year, Buffalo is pulling more and more ore away from the Pittsburgh smelters. In 1900, Buffalo produced only 370,000 tons of pig iron. By 1907, production reached 1,350,000 tons, and a significant increase is expected in 1909. A recent investigation revealed that the major iron-producing and iron-working plants along the navigable waters of Buffalo have doubled their payrolls and nearly tripled their production since 1900. The same investigation found that a ton of foundry iron can be produced in Buffalo for sixty-three cents less than in Pittsburgh. After studying the situation in Buffalo for a year, Mr. Elisha Walker, an international expert in iron and steel manufacturing, predicted that in a few years, Buffalo would compete with Pittsburgh in the use of iron ore.
While steel plants are generally the most powerful agents that work for the increase of a city’s population and wealth, and while it is true that scores of smaller users of iron and steel are flocking to Buffalo, just as other hundreds grouped themselves about the big parent furnaces in Pittsburg, Buffalo’s great future does not depend upon her development as a steel-manufacturing city. As F. Howard Mason, then Secretary of the Buffalo Chamber of Commerce, said to me: “Buffalo has more than one iron in the fire. Steel is but one of many things that will make her a city of millions a quarter of a century from now.”
While steel plants are usually the most significant contributors to a city's population growth and wealth, and while it's true that many smaller users of iron and steel are coming to Buffalo, just like hundreds have gathered around the large parent furnaces in Pittsburgh, Buffalo’s bright future doesn’t solely rely on becoming a steel-manufacturing city. As F. Howard Mason, the former Secretary of the Buffalo Chamber of Commerce, told me: “Buffalo has more than one thing going for it. Steel is just one of the many factors that will help her become a city of millions in the next twenty-five years.”

From my own investigations and from my own close study of Lake traffic, I feel confident in saying that, although Buffalo is one of the important ore-converting centres of the country, steel and iron are not the most important of the agents that will work for her future greatness. This may seem inconceivable to those who live in cities the very existence127 of which depends upon iron and steel; yet it is one of the soundest arguments for the optimistic opinion that Buffalo is destined to become the third, if not the second, largest city in the United States. Just as Duluth is the logical shipping and receiving port of the West, so is Buffalo the great receiving and distributing port of the East. Cleveland will always be an important Lake port, but it is impossible to compare its destiny with that of Buffalo. With the new Erie Canal in operation, lake highways from west to east will lead to Buffalo as surely as all roads led to old Rome. This year the total tonnage of Buffalo harbour, which is closed for at least four months of the year, will be considerably greater than that of Liverpool. Of the products passing through the Detroit River in 1907, ninety per cent. of the hard coal was shipped from Buffalo, seventy-five per cent. of the flour and ninety-five per cent. of the wheat came to Buffalo; also seventy-five per cent. of the corn, ninety-eight per cent. of the oats, ninety per cent. of the flaxseed, and ninety-five per cent. of the barley. In other words, Buffalo may be regarded as almost the only receiving port on the Lakes for Western grain.
From my own research and careful observation of lake traffic, I confidently say that, even though Buffalo is one of the major ore-processing centers in the country, steel and iron are not the most crucial factors for its future success. This might seem unbelievable to those living in cities that rely entirely on iron and steel; however, it is a strong argument for the hopeful view that Buffalo is set to become the third, if not the second, largest city in the United States. Just as Duluth serves as the natural shipping and receiving hub for the West, Buffalo stands as the key receiving and distributing port for the East. Cleveland will always be an important lake port, but its future cannot be compared to that of Buffalo. With the new Erie Canal in operation, the lake routes from west to east will lead to Buffalo just as all roads led to ancient Rome. This year, the total tonnage at Buffalo harbor, which is closed for at least four months each year, will far exceed that of Liverpool. In 1907, ninety percent of the hard coal passing through the Detroit River was shipped from Buffalo, seventy-five percent of the flour and ninety-five percent of the wheat came to Buffalo; additionally, seventy-five percent of the corn, ninety-eight percent of the oats, ninety percent of the flaxseed, and ninety-five percent of the barley were also transported through Buffalo. In other words, Buffalo can be seen as the primary receiving port on the Lakes for Western grain.
Mayor Adams hit the nail pretty squarely on the head when he said that Buffalo’s future greatness rests chiefly upon the fact that this city will, within a very few years, be the greatest converting, or manufacturing, point in North America. The cost of128 bringing raw materials to her workshops from all Western points is already reduced to a minimum. The Erie Canal will link her mills with the ocean. The unlimited resources of Niagara furnish her with the cheapest power in the world. Her proximity to the coal-fields provides her with fuel for $1.60 to $2.60 per ton. Natural gas for manufacturing purposes is retailed at a little over twenty-seven cents per thousand cubic feet. And, above all, there are sixty millions of people within five hundred miles of her City Hall. It was between 1900 and 1905 when Buffalo really awoke to her unlimited opportunities. It is interesting to compare her growth between those years with that of Pittsburg, one of the most progressive cities in the United States. In that time Pittsburg’s capital increased twenty-two per cent., Buffalo’s forty-six per cent. The number of wage-earners in Pittsburg increased a little over two per cent., while in Buffalo they increased twenty-nine per cent. The value of Pittsburg’s products increased three per cent.; of Buffalo’s, forty-two per cent. These figures show the remarkable rapidity with which Buffalo is overtaking the cities ahead of her in population.
Mayor Adams was spot on when he said that Buffalo’s future greatness mainly depends on the fact that this city will, in just a few years, become the top conversion or manufacturing hub in North America. The cost of128 transporting raw materials to her factories from all Western locations is already at a minimum. The Erie Canal will connect her mills to the ocean. The vast resources of Niagara provide her with the cheapest power in the world. Being close to coal fields gives her access to fuel for $1.60 to $2.60 per ton. Natural gas for manufacturing is sold at just over twenty-seven cents per thousand cubic feet. And, most importantly, there are sixty million people within five hundred miles of her City Hall. Between 1900 and 1905, Buffalo truly recognized her limitless opportunities. It’s interesting to compare her growth during those years to that of Pittsburgh, one of the most thriving cities in the United States. During that time, Pittsburgh’s capital increased by twenty-two percent, while Buffalo’s grew by forty-six percent. The number of workers in Pittsburgh rose by just over two percent, whereas in Buffalo, it increased by twenty-nine percent. The value of Pittsburgh’s products went up by three percent; Buffalo’s saw a rise of forty-two percent. These numbers illustrate how rapidly Buffalo is closing the gap with cities that have a larger population.

A Fleet of Erie Canal Boats—Capacity of Each 150 Tons.
A fleet of Erie Canal boats—each one has a capacity of 150 tons.
The boats on the new canal will be 1000 tons each.
The boats on the new canal will each weigh 1000 tons.
Because of the waterways at her door, cheap power, and the millions of consumers within a night’s reach of her mills, Buffalo has become the second city in the United States in the production of flour, now ranking next to Minneapolis, and at her present129 rate of increase she will be the world’s greatest milling centre in another five years. In 1901, she was producing only about half a million barrels of flour; in 1907, her product was over three million barrels, and it is predicted that the output in 1909 will be four millions. Within the last three years Buffalo has become the chief malting city in America. In 1907, her output was ten million bushels as compared with four million in 1900.
Because of the waterways right at her doorstep, affordable energy, and the millions of consumers within a night’s reach of her mills, Buffalo has become the second-largest city in the United States for flour production, now ranking just behind Minneapolis. At her current rate of growth, she will be the world’s leading milling center in another five years. In 1901, she was producing only about half a million barrels of flour; by 1907, her output had surpassed three million barrels, and it's predicted that production in 1909 will reach four million. Over the last three years, Buffalo has emerged as the top malting city in America. In 1907, her output was ten million bushels compared to four million in 1900.
To handle her Lake freight at the present time, Buffalo has twenty-four elevators with a total storage capacity of twenty-two million bushels, and a daily elevating capacity of six million bushels; nine ore docks; five coal trestles with a daily loading capacity of twenty-two thousand tons—and with these might be included three railroad storage-yards with an aggregate capacity of four hundred thousand tons. Thirteen lines of steamships, not including the many companies represented by the big freighters, ply the Lakes from Buffalo; and the fifteen trunk lines centring in the city provide two hundred and fifty-three passenger trains a day. With all of this vast machinery working night and day to care for Buffalo’s present traffic, the question naturally arises, What will happen to Buffalo when the new Erie Canal links her with the sea?
To manage her Lake freight right now, Buffalo has twenty-four elevators with a total storage capacity of twenty-two million bushels and a daily elevating capacity of six million bushels; nine ore docks; five coal trestles with a daily loading capacity of twenty-two thousand tons—and this also includes three railroad storage yards with a combined capacity of four hundred thousand tons. Thirteen steamship lines, not counting the various companies represented by the large freighters, operate on the Lakes from Buffalo; and the fifteen major rail lines that converge in the city provide two hundred and fifty-three passenger trains a day. With all this extensive operation running around the clock to manage Buffalo’s current traffic, a natural question arises: What will happen to Buffalo when the new Erie Canal connects her to the sea?
During the next decade, or less, Buffalo will astonish the whole world by her industrial growth. The effects of the canal project are already being felt, and manufacturing130 capital is hurrying to Buffalo as never before. The Federal Government is deepening the Niagara River to a depth of twenty-one feet as far down as North Tonawanda, and this, together with the deepening of the Buffalo River, is opening up a new territory for factory sites, soon to be accessible to the largest ships. Millions of dollars of capital are locating, or planning to locate, here. On the one side is the cheap transportation of the Lakes; on the other will soon be the “man-made river reaching to the sea.” With the joining of these waterways no other city in the United States will be able to compete with Buffalo as a manufacturing centre.
In the next decade or sooner, Buffalo will amaze the entire world with its industrial growth. The effects of the canal project are already being noticed, and manufacturing130 capital is rushing to Buffalo like never before. The Federal Government is deepening the Niagara River to a depth of twenty-one feet all the way down to North Tonawanda, and this, along with the deepening of the Buffalo River, is opening up new areas for factory sites that will soon be accessible to the largest ships. Millions of dollars in capital are either settling here or planning to. On one side is the affordable transportation of the Lakes; on the other will soon be the “man-made river reaching to the sea.” With the combination of these waterways, no other city in the United States will be able to compete with Buffalo as a manufacturing hub.
The actual task of digging the new canal for which the people of New York voted one hundred and one million dollars, and which will connect Buffalo with tidewater by a thousand-ton waterway, is now at hand. Few people realise just how stupendous this task is. While every intelligent American is acquainted with the Panama Canal project, few know that this connecting link between the Lakes and the ocean is a greater public improvement for the State of New York to carry out than is the building of the Panama Canal for the United States Government, and it is of hardly less commercial value. Its cost will be greater than that of Suez, and in a short time its tonnage will be more than that of Suez. The first one hundred and twenty-five miles were under contract131 in January, 1908, with another sixty-five miles ready to be contracted for.
The actual task of digging the new canal, for which the people of New York voted one hundred and one million dollars, and which will connect Buffalo with the ocean via a thousand-ton waterway, is now underway. Few people realize just how massive this task is. While every informed American knows about the Panama Canal project, few understand that this link between the Great Lakes and the ocean represents a more significant public improvement for New York State than the construction of the Panama Canal for the U.S. government, and it holds nearly the same commercial value. Its cost will exceed that of the Suez Canal, and soon its tonnage will surpass that of Suez. The first one hundred and twenty-five miles were under contract131 in January 1908, with another sixty-five miles ready to be contracted for.
This great waterway, including the Hudson River, will pass from or to and through the city of New York and adjacent cities in New Jersey, Poughkeepsie, Albany, Troy, Schenectady, Utica, Syracuse, Oswego, Rochester, and Buffalo, besides smaller towns, possessing an aggregate population of over six million. The canal when completed will really terminate at Tonawanda, on the Niagara River, the route to Buffalo from there being via the Niagara River, the federal ship canal, and the Erie Basin. While the old canal has a depth of only from seven to nine feet and a width on the bottom of fifty-two, the new waterway will have a uniform depth of twelve feet, with a minimum width at the bottom of seventy-five feet, thus being capable of carrying boats one hundred and fifty feet long, twenty-five feet beam, and with a draft of ten feet. The present capacity of an Erie Canal boat is two hundred and forty tons, while the new boats will carry a thousand tons.
This major waterway, which includes the Hudson River, will connect the city of New York with surrounding cities in New Jersey, Poughkeepsie, Albany, Troy, Schenectady, Utica, Syracuse, Oswego, Rochester, and Buffalo, as well as smaller towns, with a total population of over six million. When completed, the canal will actually end at Tonawanda on the Niagara River, with the route to Buffalo from there being along the Niagara River, the federal ship canal, and Erie Basin. While the old canal has a depth of only seven to nine feet and a bottom width of fifty-two, the new waterway will have a consistent depth of twelve feet, with a minimum bottom width of seventy-five feet, allowing it to accommodate boats that are one hundred and fifty feet long, twenty-five feet wide, and with a draft of ten feet. The current capacity of an Erie Canal boat is two hundred and forty tons, while the new boats will be able to carry one thousand tons.
I have shown in preceding articles what a tremendous saving to the people of the United States is made because of Lake transportation, and this will be greatly increased by the new canal. Large aggregations of capital will own not merely Lake vessels, but terminals and canal fleets as well, so that from Lake ports they can name a through freight rate to New York or to foreign countries. Within132 a few years after its completion, the canal will probably be carrying twenty million tons of freight from Buffalo to the ocean. Taking this figure as a basis, it is easy to figure what a tremendous saving the canal will bring about. It now costs three and a half cents a bushel to send grain from Buffalo to New York. The new canal rate should be not more than a cent a bushel. On twenty million bushels of grain this means a saving of five hundred thousand dollars, which will either go into the pockets of the producer or the consumer or be divided between the two. Freight of all descriptions, manufactured products, and iron and steel, can be transported from Buffalo to tidewater for half of a mill per ton per mile. In other words, on the new canal all kinds of freight can be shipped from Buffalo to New York, a distance of four hundred and forty-six miles, at twenty-two cents per ton. The present cost is eighty-seven cents. On twenty million tons this saving of nearly sixty-five cents a ton would total nearly thirteen million dollars.
I have demonstrated in previous articles the significant savings for the people of the United States due to Lake transportation, and this will be greatly enhanced by the new canal. Major investments will not only own Lake vessels but also terminals and canal fleets, allowing them to offer a direct freight rate from Lake ports to New York or overseas. Within132 a few years after it opens, the canal will likely be moving twenty million tons of freight from Buffalo to the ocean. Using this number as a reference, it’s easy to see what huge savings the canal will bring. Currently, it costs three and a half cents per bushel to ship grain from Buffalo to New York. The new canal rate should be no more than a cent per bushel. For twenty million bushels of grain, this translates to a savings of five hundred thousand dollars, which will benefit either the producer, the consumer, or be shared between the two. Freight of all kinds, including manufactured goods, iron, and steel, can be transported from Buffalo to tidewater for half a mill per ton per mile. In simpler terms, on the new canal, all types of freight can be shipped from Buffalo to New York, a distance of four hundred and forty-six miles, for twenty-two cents per ton. The current cost is eighty-seven cents. On twenty million tons, this nearly sixty-five cent saving per ton would add up to almost thirteen million dollars.

What this would mean to Buffalo it is almost impossible to estimate, especially in regard to the steel industry. Buffalo now has an advantage over Pittsburg in the cost of ore, limestone, and several other matters incident to the manufacture of iron and steel, Pittsburg’s sole remaining advantage being its proximity to coking coal. This will be obliterated. A large percentage of the vast steel and allied industries133 centring at Pittsburg will, of their own volition, move within the boundaries of the State of New York and locate along the Niagara frontier. This industrial migration has already begun. It will continue, naturally, ceaselessly. The ore will meet the coke at Buffalo, and the manufactured product will be floated down the Erie Canal instead of being hauled across the Alleghanies. This is inevitable.
What this means for Buffalo is really hard to estimate, especially concerning the steel industry. Buffalo now has an edge over Pittsburgh in the cost of ore, limestone, and other elements essential to making iron and steel, with Pittsburgh’s only remaining advantage being its proximity to coking coal. This will disappear. A large portion of the huge steel and related industries133 centered in Pittsburgh will, on their own accord, move into New York State and set up along the Niagara frontier. This industrial shift has already started. It will continue naturally and without pause. The ore will meet the coke in Buffalo, and the finished product will be shipped down the Erie Canal instead of being transported across the Alleghenies. This is unavoidable.
And just as inevitable is the migration of other industries to Buffalo from other cities. Not only does the cheap lake and canal transportation call to them, but also the cheap and unlimited power of Niagara. A few years ago George Westinghouse said: “I expect to live to see the day when a city that will astonish the world will stretch along the entire Niagara frontier—and this city will be Buffalo.” Those who investigate this frontier to-day cannot fail to see the strength of his prediction. Tesla said that Niagara power would revolutionise manufacturing in the United States. It is already revolutionising it in and about Buffalo, and the power of the world’s greatest fall has only been tapped. On the American side the Niagara Falls Power Company is developing one hundred and five thousand horse-power, and the Niagara Falls Hydraulic Power and Manufacturing Company fifty thousand, while on the Canadian side the Canadian Niagara Falls Company is developing fifty thousand horse-power and the Electrical Development Company and the Ontario Power Company134 sixty-two thousand each. Less than four per cent. of the total flow of water over Niagara Falls has been diverted by the companies now in operation. The total fall of water is theoretically capable of producing over seven million horse-power, which would run virtually all of the manufacturing plants in the United States.
And just as inevitable is the movement of other industries to Buffalo from other cities. Not only is the cheap lake and canal transportation attractive to them, but also the affordable and limitless power from Niagara. A few years ago, George Westinghouse said, “I expect to live to see the day when a city that will astonish the world will stretch along the entire Niagara frontier—and this city will be Buffalo.” Those who explore this frontier today can easily see the validity of his prediction. Tesla mentioned that Niagara power would change manufacturing in the United States. It is already changing it in and around Buffalo, and the energy from the world’s greatest waterfall has barely been tapped. On the American side, the Niagara Falls Power Company is developing one hundred and five thousand horsepower, and the Niagara Falls Hydraulic Power and Manufacturing Company fifty thousand, while on the Canadian side, the Canadian Niagara Falls Company is developing fifty thousand horsepower and the Electrical Development Company and the Ontario Power Company each sixty-two thousand. Less than four percent of the total water flow over Niagara Falls has been diverted by the companies currently in operation. The total water drop is theoretically capable of producing over seven million horsepower, which could power virtually all of the manufacturing plants in the United States.
At the present time about seventy-five thousand electrical horse-power is consumed in Buffalo by manufacturing and mercantile establishments. What this cheap power means to the city can best be shown in figures. In nearly all cities the power required for manufacturing purposes is derived from steam produced from coal. In its simplest form this method of generating power requires apparatus consisting of steam boilers with their settings, pumps, steam-pipings, flues and stack, facilities for coal-storage, engines, foundations, and beltings—demanding altogether a large amount of floor-space. The cost of an installation of such equipment has been found to be approximately fifty dollars per rated horse-power. Electric motors using Niagara power can be installed for less than thirty dollars per rated horse-power. In other words, the saving in power to the manufacturer is almost one half. On the other hand, a steam plant requires a considerable force of men to operate and maintain it, while electrical power cuts down this service two thirds.
At present, around seventy-five thousand electrical horsepower is consumed in Buffalo by manufacturing and retail businesses. The impact of this inexpensive power on the city can be illustrated with numbers. In almost all cities, the power needed for manufacturing comes from steam generated by coal. In its basic form, this method of generating power involves equipment like steam boilers with their setups, pumps, steam pipes, flues, and stacks, along with coal storage, engines, foundations, and belts—requiring a significant amount of floor space. The installation cost for such equipment is about fifty dollars per rated horsepower. Electric motors powered by Niagara can be installed for under thirty dollars per rated horsepower. In other words, manufacturers save almost half on power costs. Additionally, a steam plant requires a large workforce to operate and maintain it, whereas electric power reduces this need by two thirds.

A Scene on Blackwell Canal.
A Scene on Blackwell Canal.
The winter home of big boats in Buffalo.
The winter home for large boats in Buffalo.
Why manufacturers are flocking to Buffalo, and135 why the greatest manufacturing city in the world is bound to extend along the Niagara frontier, is graphically shown by the following figures comparing the cost of Buffalo power with that of other representative cities. Assuming the maximum power used to be one hundred horse-power, the number of working hours a day to be ten, and the “load factor,” or average power actually used, to be seventy-five per cent. of the total one hundred, the cost per month in the cities named is about as follows:
Why manufacturers are moving to Buffalo, and135 why the greatest manufacturing city in the world is set to expand along the Niagara frontier, is clearly illustrated by the following figures comparing the cost of Buffalo's power with that of other major cities. Assuming the maximum power used to be one hundred horsepower, the number of working hours a day to be ten, and the “load factor,” or average power actually used, to be seventy-five percent of the total one hundred, the cost per month in the cities mentioned is approximately as follows:
Boston | $937.50 |
Philadelphia | 839.25 |
New York | 699.37 |
Chicago | 629.43 |
Cleveland | 559.50 |
Pittsburg | 419.62 |
Buffalo | 184.91 |
Niagara Falls | 144.17 |
These figures show that the manufacturer on the Niagara frontier not only possesses the cheapest water-power in the country, but that his power costs him less than half as much as it cost his next nearest rival, the manufacturer at Pittsburg. While power costs his Boston competitor a hundred and fifty dollars per horse-power per year, the Buffalo manufacturer pays less than thirty dollars. Even without cheap transportation rates, this item alone would give him an overwhelming advantage in the race for trade.
These numbers indicate that the manufacturer on the Niagara frontier not only has the cheapest water power in the country, but that his power expenses are less than half of what his closest competitor, the manufacturer in Pittsburgh, pays. While power costs his Boston competitor $150 per horsepower per year, the Buffalo manufacturer pays less than $30. Even without low transportation rates, this alone would give him a significant edge in the competition for trade.
Destined to be one of the greatest if not the greatest manufacturing city on earth, Buffalo is also one of the most beautiful. To-day she possesses four136 hundred miles of asphalt pavement—more smooth pavement than is found in Paris, Washington, or any other city. She is the greatest “home city” in America. Out of a population of more than four hundred thousand people, the home-owning population is only thirty thousand below the total registered vote. As a convention city she has only one rival, and that is Detroit. Nature has showered blessings upon her without stint. And I confidently believe that many of the young men and women of Buffalo will live to see the day when one city will stretch along the entire Niagara frontier, with a population exceeded by that of only one or at most two other American cities.
Destined to be one of the greatest, if not the greatest, manufacturing cities on earth, Buffalo is also one of the most beautiful. Today, it has four136 hundred miles of smooth asphalt pavement—more than Paris, Washington, or any other city. It's the top "home city" in America. With a population of over four hundred thousand, the number of homeowners is only thirty thousand below the total registered voters. As a convention city, it has only one rival, which is Detroit. Nature has blessed it generously. I truly believe that many young people in Buffalo will live to see the day when one city stretches along the entire Niagara frontier, with a population only surpassed by one or two other American cities.

In my previous chapters I have described nearly every phase of Lake shipping, with the exception of one, which, while not being vitally concerned with the story of our fresh-water marine, is still one of the most interesting, and perhaps the least known of all. That is the “inner life” of one of our Great Lakes freighters; the life of the crew and the favoured few who are privileged to travel as passenger guests of the owners upon one of these steel monsters of the Inland Seas. In more than one way our Lake marine is unusual; in this it is unique.
In my earlier chapters, I've covered almost every aspect of shipping on the Great Lakes, except for one, which, although it's not directly tied to the main story of our freshwater marine, is still one of the most interesting and perhaps the least understood. That is the “inner life” of one of our Great Lakes freighters—the experiences of the crew and the select few who are lucky enough to travel as guest passengers of the owners on these steel giants of the Inland Seas. In many ways, our Lake marine is distinctive; in this regard, it is truly unique.
Recently one of the finest steel yachts that ever sailed fresh water came up the St. Lawrence to the Lakes. Its owner was a millionaire many times over. With his wife he had cruised around the world, but for the first time they had come to the Lakes. I had the fortune to converse with him upon his yacht about the craft of other countries, and as we lay at anchor in the Detroit River there passed us the greatest ship on the Inland Seas—the Thomas F. Cole; and, addressing his wife, I asked, “How138 would you like to take a cruise on a vessel like that?”
Recently, one of the finest steel yachts ever to sail on fresh water made its way up the St. Lawrence to the Lakes. Its owner was a millionaire many times over. He and his wife had cruised around the world, but this was their first time visiting the Lakes. I had the chance to chat with him on his yacht about boats from other countries, and as we were anchored in the Detroit River, the largest ship on the Inland Seas—the Thomas F. Cole; passed by us. Turning to his wife, I asked, “How138 would you like to take a cruise on a vessel like that?”
The lady laughed, as if such a suggestion were amusing indeed, and said that if she were a man she might attempt it, and perhaps enjoy it to a degree, and when I went on to describe some of the things that I knew about “those great, ugly ships,” as she called them, I am quite sure that all of my words were not received without doubt. This little experience was the last of many that proved to me the assertion I have made before—that to nine people out of ten, at least, our huge, silent, red ships that bring down the wealth of the North are a mystery. They are not beautiful. Freighted low down, their steel sides scraped and marred like the hands of a labourer, their huge funnels emitting clouds of bituminous smoke, their barren steel decks glaring in the heat of the summer sun, there seems to be but little about them to attract the pleasure seeker. From the distance at which they are usually seen their aft and forward cabins appear like coops, their pilot houses even less.
The lady laughed, as if the idea were really funny, and said that if she were a man, she might give it a try and maybe even enjoy it a bit. When I began to talk about some of the things I knew about “those great, ugly ships,” as she called them, I’m pretty sure not everything I said was taken seriously. This small experience was one of many that showed me what I’ve said before—that for at least nine out of ten people, our huge, silent, red ships that carry the North’s riches are a mystery. They aren’t beautiful. Loaded down, their steel sides are scratched and worn like a laborer’s hands, their massive smokestacks releasing clouds of thick smoke, and their bare steel decks glaring in the summer sun, there seems to be little to attract those looking for pleasure. From the distance where they’re usually seen, their back and front cabins look like small pens, and their pilot houses look even less appealing.

Yet fortunate is the person who has the “pull” to secure passage on one of these monster carriers of the Lakes, for behind all of that uninviting exterior there is a luxury of marine travel that is equalled nowhere else in the world except on the largest and finest of private yachts. These leviathans of the Lakes, that bring down dirty ore and take up dirtier coal, are the greatest money-makers in the world,139 and they are owned by men of wealth. The people who travel on them are the owner’s guests. Nothing is too good for them. Each year the rivalry between builders is increasing as to whose ships shall possess the finest “guests’ quarters.” Behind the smoke and dirt and unseemly red steel that are seen from shore or deck, a fortune has been spent in those rooms over the small doors of which one reads the word “Owners.” You may climb up the steel side of the ship, you may explore it from stem to stern, but not until you are a “guest”—not until the “key to the ship” has been handed to you, are its luxuries, its magnificence, its mysteries, clearly revealed.
Yet lucky is the person who has the connections to secure a spot on one of these massive carriers of the Lakes, because behind that unappealing exterior lies a level of luxury in marine travel that you won't find anywhere else in the world, except on the largest and finest private yachts. These giants of the Lakes, which transport dirty ore and pick up even dirtier coal, are some of the biggest money-makers on the planet,139 and they are owned by wealthy individuals. The people who travel on them are the owner's guests. Nothing is too good for them. Each year, competition among builders intensifies over whose ships will have the best “guest quarters.” Behind the smoke, grime, and unattractive red steel visible from the shore or deck, a fortune has been invested in those rooms over the small doors marked “Owners.” You can climb up the steel side of the ship, you can explore it from front to back, but you won’t experience its luxuries, magnificence, and mysteries until you are a “guest”—not until the “key to the ship” is handed to you.
My telegram read:
My message said:
“Take my private room on the Harry Berwind at Ashtabula.”
“Take my private room on the Harry Berwind at Ashtabula.”
It was signed by G. Ashley Tomlinson, of Duluth. The Berwind is one of the finest of Tomlinson’s sixteen steel ships and is named after one of the best known fuel transportation men on the Lakes—a vessel that can carry eleven thousand tons without special crowding and makes twelve miles an hour while she is doing it. I reached the great ore and coal docks at Ashtabula at a happy moment.
It was signed by G. Ashley Tomlinson from Duluth. The Berwind is one of the best of Tomlinson’s sixteen steel ships and is named after one of the most well-known fuel transportation guys on the Great Lakes—a ship that can carry eleven thousand tons comfortably and travels at twelve miles an hour while doing it. I arrived at the major ore and coal docks in Ashtabula at just the right time.
The other guests had arrived, seven in all—four ladies and three gentlemen, and we met on the red and black dock, with mountains of ore and coal about us, with the thundering din of working machines in our ears, and out there before us, enshrouded in140 smoke and black dust, the great ship that was to carry us for nearly a thousand miles up the Lakes and back again. It was a happy moment, I say, for I met the seven guests in this wilderness of din and dirt—and six of them had never been aboard a freighter in their lives. They had heard, of course, what lay beyond those red steel walls. But was there not a mistake here? Was it possible——
The other guests had arrived, seven in total—four women and three men, and we gathered on the red and black dock, surrounded by piles of ore and coal, with the loud noise of working machines all around us. Out in front of us, shrouded in smoke and black dust, was the massive ship that would take us nearly a thousand miles up the Lakes and back again. It was a thrilling moment, I must say, as I met the seven guests in this noisy and dirty wilderness—and six of them had never been on a freighter in their lives. They had heard, of course, about what lay beyond those red steel walls. But was there not a mistake here? Was it possible
Doubt filled their faces. High above them towered the straight wall of the ship with a narrow ladder reaching down to them. At the huge coal derricks whole cars of coal were being lifted up as if they were no more than scuttles in the hands of a strong man and their contents sent thundering into the gaping hatches; black dust clouded the air, settling in a thousand minute particles on fabric and flesh; black-faced men shouted and worked at the loading machine; the crash of shunting cars came interminably from the yards; and upon it all the sun beat fiercely, and the air that entered our nostrils seemed thick—thick with the dust and grime and heat of it all. A black-faced, sweating man, who was the mate, leaned over the steel side high above us and motioned us aft, and the seven guests hurried through the thickness of the air, the ladies shuddering and cringing as the cars of coal thundered high over their heads, until they came to the big after port with a plank laid to the dock. Up this they filed, their faces betraying more doubt, more uneasiness,141 more discomfort as hot blasts of furnace air surged against them; then up a narrow iron stair, through a door—and out there before them lay the ship, her thirty hatches yawning like caverns, and everywhere coal—and coal dust. The ladies gasped and drew their dresses tightly about them as they were guided along the narrow promenade between the edge of the ship and the open hatches, and at last they were halted before one of those doors labelled “Owners.”
Doubt filled their faces. High above them loomed the straight wall of the ship with a narrow ladder reaching down to them. Whole cars of coal were being lifted up at the massive coal derricks as if they were no more than buckets in the hands of a strong man, with their contents crashing into the wide-open hatches; black dust clouded the air, settling in countless tiny particles on fabric and skin; black-faced men shouted and worked at the loading machine; the constant noise of shunting cars came from the yards; and through it all, the sun beat down fiercely, and the air that filled our lungs felt thick—thick with dust, grime, and heat. A black-faced, sweating man, who was the mate, leaned over the steel side high above us and signaled us to move toward the back, and the seven guests hurried through the heavy air, the ladies shivering and flinching as the coal cars thundered high overhead, until they reached the large after port with a plank laid to the dock. Up this they filed, their faces revealing more doubt, more unease, more discomfort as hot blasts of furnace air hit them; then up a narrow iron staircase, through a door—and out there before them lay the ship, her thirty hatches gaping like caverns, and everywhere coal—and coal dust. The ladies gasped and pulled their dresses tightly around them as they were led along the narrow walkway between the edge of the ship and the open hatches, and finally, they were stopped in front of one of those doors labeled “Owners.”
Then the change! It came so suddenly that it fairly took the breath away from those who had never been on a freighter before. The guests filed through that narrow door into a great room, which a second glance showed them to be a parlour. Their feet sank in the noiseless depths of rich velvet carpet; into their heated faces came the refreshing breaths of electric fans; great upholstered chairs opened to them welcomingly; the lustre of mahogany met their eyes, and magazines and books and papers were ready for them in profusion. To us there now came the thunder of the coal as if from afar; here was restfulness and quiet—through the windows we could see the dust and smoke and heat hovering about the ship like a pall.
Then the transformation! It happened so suddenly that it took the breath away from those who had never been on a freighter before. The guests walked through that narrow door into a spacious room, which on a second glance was a lounge. Their feet sank into the silent depths of rich velvet carpet; the refreshing breeze from electric fans hit their warm faces; large upholstered chairs greeted them invitingly; the shine of mahogany caught their eye, and magazines, books, and papers were available in abundance. To us, there came the distant rumble of the coal; here was peace and quiet—through the windows, we could see the dust, smoke, and heat swirling around the ship like a shroud.
This was the general parlour into which we had been ushered; and now I hung close behind the ship’s guests, watching and enjoying the amazement that continued to grow in them. From each side of the142 parlour there led a narrow hall and on each side of each hall there was a large room—the guest-chambers—and at the end of each hall there was a bathroom; and in the bedrooms, with their brass beds, their rich tapestries and curtains, our feet still sank in velvet carpet, our eyes rested upon richly cushioned chairs—everywhere there was the luxury and wealth of appointment that a millionaire had planned for the favoured few whom he called his guests.
This was the main living area we had entered, and I stayed close behind the ship's guests, observing and enjoying their growing amazement. On either side of the 142 living area, there were narrow halls, each leading to a spacious room—the guest bedrooms—and at the end of each hall, there was a bathroom. Inside the bedrooms, with their brass beds, rich tapestries, and curtains, our feet sank into plush carpet, and our eyes settled on lavishly cushioned chairs—everywhere, there was the luxury and elegance that a millionaire had designed for the select few he called his guests.

Now I retired from the guest-chambers to my own private room. I am going a good deal into detail in this description of the guests’ quarters of a great freighter like the Berwind, for I remember once being told by a shipbuilder of the Clyde that he “could hardly believe that such a thing existed,” and I know there are millions of others who have the same doubts. The forward superstructure of a Great Lakes freighter might be compared to a two-story house, with the pilot-house still on top of that; and from the luxurious quarters of the “first story,” which in the Berwind are on a level with the deck of the vessel, a velvet-carpeted stair led to the “observation room”—a great, richly furnished room with many windows in it, from which one may look out upon the sea in all directions except behind. And from this room one door led into the Captain’s quarters, and another into the private suite of rooms which I was fortunate enough to occupy on this trip. The finest hotel in the land could not have afforded finer conveniences143 than this black and red ship, smothered in the loading of ten thousand tons of coal. In the cool seclusion of its passenger quarters a unique water-works system gave hot and cold water to every room; an electric light plant aft gave constant light, and power for the fans. Nothing was wanting, even to a library and music, to make of the interior of this forward part of the ship a palace fit for the travel of a king. Within a few minutes we had all plunged into baths; hardly were we out and dressed when the steward came with glasses of iced lemonade; and even as the black clouds of grime and dirt still continued to settle over the ship we gathered in the great observation room, a happy party of us now, and the music of mandolin and phonograph softened the sounds of labour that rumbled to us from outside.
Now I retired from the guest rooms to my own private space. I'm going into a lot of detail in this description of the guest quarters on a large freighter like the Berwind, because I remember a shipbuilder from the Clyde once telling me he “could hardly believe such a thing existed,” and I know there are millions of others who feel the same way. The forward structure of a Great Lakes freighter could be compared to a two-story house, with the pilot house on top of that; and from the luxurious quarters of the “first floor,” which in the Berwind are at deck level, a velvet-carpeted staircase led to the “observation room”—a spacious, richly furnished area with many windows, where you could look out at the sea in all directions except behind. From this room, one door led into the Captain’s quarters, and another led into the private suite of rooms that I was lucky enough to occupy on this trip. The best hotel in the country couldn’t offer better amenities143 than this black and red ship, buried under ten thousand tons of coal. In the cool privacy of its passenger quarters, a unique plumbing system provided hot and cold water in every room; an electric plant in the back supplied constant light and power for the fans. There was everything needed, even a library and music, to make this front part of the ship a palace fit for a king's travel. Within a few minutes, we had all jumped into baths; hardly had we gotten out and dressed when the steward came with glasses of iced lemonade; and even while the black clouds of grime and dirt continued to settle over the ship, we gathered in the great observation room, a happy group now, with the music from the mandolin and phonograph softening the sounds of labor that rumbled to us from outside.
Then, suddenly, there fell a quiet. The ship was loaded. Loud voices rose in rapid command, the donkey-engines rumbled and jerked as their cables dragged the steel hatch-covers into place, and the freighter’s whistle echoed in long, sonorous blasts in its call for a tug. And then, from half a mile away, came the shrieking reply of one of those little black giants, and up out of the early sunset gloom of evening it raced in the maelstrom of its own furious speed, and placed itself ahead of us, for all the world like a tiny ant tugging away at a prey a hundred times its size. Lights sprung up in a thousand places along shore, and soon, far away, appeared the blazing eye144 of the harbour light, and beyond that stretched the vast opaqueness of the “thousand-mile highway” that led to Duluth and the realms of the iron barons of the North. Once clear, and with the sea before us, the tug dropped away, a shudder passed through the great ship as her engines began to work, our whistle gave vent to two or three joyous, triumphant cheers, and our journey had begun.
Then, suddenly, there was a hush. The ship was loaded. Loud voices shouted orders, the donkey engines rumbled and jolted as their cables pulled the steel hatch covers into place, and the freighter's whistle echoed in long, resonant blasts, calling for a tug. Then, from half a mile away, came the shrieking response of one of those little black giants, racing out of the early evening gloom in a whirlwind of speed, positioning itself ahead of us, like a tiny ant hauling something a hundred times its size. Lights flickered on in a thousand places along the shore, and soon, far off, the bright eye of the harbor light appeared, beyond which stretched the vast darkness of the “thousand-mile highway” leading to Duluth and the domains of the iron barons of the North. Once we were clear and with the sea in front of us, the tug pulled away, a shudder ran through the massive ship as its engines started up, our whistle let out two or three joyful, triumphant blasts, and our journey had begun.

Observation Room on the “Wm. G. Mather.”
Observation Room on the “Wm. G. Mather.”
Which gives an idea of the luxuriousness of the guests’ quarters on a Great Lakes freighter.
Which gives an idea of the luxury of the guests' quarters on a Great Lakes freighter.
It was then that our steward’s pretty little wife, Mrs. Brooks, appeared, smiling, cool, delightfully welcome, and announced that dinner was ready, and that this time we must pardon them for being late. Out upon the steel decks men were already flushing off with huge lengths of hose, the ship’s lights were burning brilliantly, and from far aft, nearly a tenth of a mile away, there came the happy voice of a deckhand singing in the contentment of a full stomach and the beautiful freshness of the night. Not more than a dozen paces from our own quarters was a narrow deckhouse which ran the full length of the hatches—the guests’ private dining-room. It was now ablaze with light, and here another and even greater surprise was in store for those of our party who were strangers to the hospitality which one receives aboard a Great Lakes freighter. The long table, running nearly the length of the room, glittered with silver, and was decorated with fruits and huge vases of fresh flowers, and at the head of the table stood the steward’s wife, all smiles and145 dimples and good cheer, appointing us to our seats as we came in. On these great ore and grain and coal carriers of the Inland Seas, the stewards and their wives, unlike those in most other places, possess responsibilities other than those of preparing and serving food. They are, in a way, the host and hostess of the guests, and must make them comfortable—and “at home.” On a few vessels, like the Berwind, there are both forward and aft stewards, with their assistants, who in many instances are their wives. The forward steward, like our Mr. Brooks, is the chief, and buys for the whole ship and watches that the aft steward does his work properly. Outside of this he devotes himself entirely to the vessel’s guests, and is paid about one hundred dollars a month and all expenses, while his wife gets thirty dollars for doing it. So he must be good. The stewards of Lake freighters are usually those who have “graduated” ashore, for even the crews of the Lakes are the best fed people in the world. Mr. Brooks, for instance, had not only won his reputation in some of the best hotels in the land, but his books on cooking are widely known, and especially along the fresh-water highways. I mention these facts because they show another of the little known and unusual phases of life in our Lake marine. For breakfast, dinner, and supper the tables in the crew’s mess-room are loaded with good things; very few hotels give the service that is found in the passengers’ dining-room.
It was then that our steward’s pretty wife, Mrs. Brooks, showed up, smiling, cool, and wonderfully welcoming, announcing that dinner was ready and that this time we should forgive them for being late. On the steel decks, men were already washing down with long hoses, the ship's lights were shining brightly, and from far back, nearly a tenth of a mile away, we could hear a deckhand singing in the happiness of a full stomach and the lovely freshness of the night. Not more than a dozen steps from our quarters was a narrow deckhouse that stretched the full length of the hatches—the guests’ private dining room. It was now glowing with light, and there was another, even bigger surprise for those of us who were unfamiliar with the hospitality aboard a Great Lakes freighter. The long table, almost the length of the room, gleamed with silver and was decorated with fruits and huge vases of fresh flowers. At the head of the table stood the steward’s wife, all smiles and dimples and good vibes, directing us to our seats as we entered. On these large carriers of ore, grain, and coal on the Inland Seas, stewards and their wives, unlike those in many other places, have responsibilities beyond just preparing and serving food. They act as hosts and hostesses, ensuring guests feel comfortable and "at home." On a few vessels, like the Berwind, there are stewards both forward and aft, along with their assistants, who are often their wives. The forward steward, like Mr. Brooks, is in charge, purchasing for the entire ship and making sure the aft steward does his job properly. Beyond that, he focuses entirely on the ship's guests and is paid about one hundred dollars a month plus all expenses, while his wife earns thirty dollars for helping out. So, he has to be good at it. The stewards of Lake freighters usually come from the best culinary backgrounds, as even the crews on the Lakes are the best-fed people in the world. Mr. Brooks, for instance, not only built his reputation in some of the best hotels in the country, but his cookbooks are well-known, especially along the freshwater routes. I mention these details because they highlight another little-known and unique aspect of life within our Lake marine. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the tables in the crew’s mess are filled with delicious food; very few hotels offer the same level of service found in the passengers’ dining room.
146 Thus, from the very beginning, one meets with the unusual and the surprising on board one of these big steel ships of the Lakes. While towns and cities and the ten thousand vessels of the seas are sweeping past, while for a thousand miles the scenes are constantly changing—from thickly populated country to virgin wilderness, from the heat of summer on Erie to the chill of autumn on Superior,—the vessel itself remains a wonderland to the one who has never taken the trip before. From the huge refrigerator, packed with the choicest meats, with gallons of olives and relishes, baskets of fruits and vegetables—from this to the deep “under-water dungeons” where the furnaces roar night and day and where black and sweating men work like demons, something new of interest is always being found.
146 From the very start, you encounter the unusual and the surprising on one of these large steel ships on the Lakes. As towns and cities and countless vessels glide by, while the scenery shifts dramatically—from densely populated areas to untouched wilderness, from the summer heat on Erie to the autumn chill on Superior—the ship itself feels like a wonderland for anyone who hasn't experienced the journey before. From the massive refrigerator stocked with the finest meats, gallons of olives and condiments, and baskets of fruits and vegetables—to the deep “underwater dungeons” where the furnaces roar day and night, and where exhausted, hardworking men labor tirelessly, there's always something new and interesting to discover.

For the first day, while the steel decks are being scrubbed so clean that one might lie upon them without soiling himself, the passengers may spend every hour in exploring the mysteries of the ship without finding a dull moment. Under the aft deck-houses, where the crew eat and sleep, are what the sailors call the “bowels of the ship,” and here, as is not the case on ocean craft, the passenger may see for the first time in his life the wonderful, almost appalling, mechanism that drives a great ship from port to port, for it must be remembered that the “passenger” here is a guest—the guest of the owner whose great private yacht the great ship is, in a way,147 and everything of interest will be shown to him if he wishes. Of the bottom of this part of the ship the “brussels-carpet guest”—as sailors call the passenger who is taking a trip on a freighter for the first time—stands half in terror. There is the dim light of electricity down here, the roaring of the furnaces, the creaking and groaning of the great ship, and high above one’s head, an interminable distance away it seems, one may see where day begins. Everywhere there is the rumbling and crashing of machinery, the dizzy whirling of wheels, the ceaseless pumping of steel arms as big around as trees; and up and up and all around there wind narrow stairways and gratings, on which men creep and climb to guard this heart action of the ship’s life. The din is fearful, the heat in the furnace-room insufferable, and when once each half-minute a furnace door is opened for fresh fuel, and writhing torrents of fire and light illumine the gloomy depths, the tenderfoot passenger looks up nervously to where his eyes catch glimpses of light and freedom far above him. And then, in the explanation of all this—in the reason for these hundreds of tons of whirling, crashing, thundering steel—there comes the greatest surprise of all. For all of this giant mechanism is to perform just one thing—and that is to whirl and whirl and whirl an insignificant-looking steel rod, which is called a shaft, and at the end of which, in the sea behind the ship, is the screw—a thing so small that one stands in148 amazement, half doubting that this is the instrument which sends a ten-thousand-ton ship and ten thousand tons of cargo through the sea at twelve miles an hour!
On the first day, while the steel decks are scrubbed clean enough for someone to lie down without getting dirty, passengers can spend every hour exploring the ship's mysteries without a single dull moment. Below the aft deck-houses, where the crew eats and sleeps, are what sailors call the “bowels of the ship.” Here, unlike on ocean vessels, passengers get to see for the first time the amazing, almost frightening machinery that drives a large ship from port to port. It’s important to remember that the “passenger” here is a guest—the guest of the owner to whom this great ship, in many ways, belongs, and everything interesting will be shown to him if he asks. In this part of the ship, the “brussels-carpet guest”—as sailors refer to passengers on their first freighter trip—stands half in fear. There’s dim electric light down here, the roar of the furnaces, the creaking and groaning of the massive ship, and high above, what seems like an endless distance away, one can see where daylight begins. Everywhere, there’s the rumble and crash of machinery, the dizzying spin of wheels, the constant pumping of steel arms as thick as trees. Narrow stairways and grates twist up and around, where men crawl and climb to maintain the heart of the ship’s operations. The noise is overwhelming, the heat in the furnace room unbearable, and when every thirty seconds a furnace door opens for new fuel, flames and light flood the gloomy depths, causing the inexperienced passenger to nervously glance up, catching glimpses of light and freedom far above him. Then comes the greatest surprise of all in understanding this— the purpose of all these hundreds of tons of whirling, crashing, thundering steel. All of this massive machinery serves just one purpose—to spin an unassuming steel rod, known as a shaft, at the end of which, in the water behind the ship, is the screw—a part so small that one stands in awe, half doubting it's the device that propels a ten-thousand-ton ship and its cargo through the sea at twelve miles an hour!
After this first day of exploration, the real joyous life of the ship comes to one. Every hour of every day is one of pleasure. You are on the only ship in the world into every corner of which a passenger is allowed to go. You are, in so far as your pleasure and freedom go, practically the owner of the ship. The crew and even the captain may not know but what you are one of the owners, for nothing but your name is given to the officers before you come aboard. Of course, the steward has the privilege to tell you to keep out of his kitchen, and the captain for you to keep out of the pilot-house—but they never do it. That guest, for instance, who haunts the pilot-house almost from morning to night, who insists upon taking lessons in steering, and who on any other craft in the world would soon be told to remain in his cabin or mind his business, may be a millionaire himself—a millionaire who is giving this line of ships many thousands of dollars’ worth of freight each year. So the captain and the crew must be affable. But, as I have said before, this is accepted as a pleasure and not as a duty on the Inland Seas. I have taken trips on a score of vessels, and it means much when I say that never have I encountered an unpleasant captain, and that only once did I meet with a mate who was not pleasant to his passengers.
After this first day of exploration, the true joyful life of the ship begins. Every hour of every day is filled with pleasure. You are on the only ship in the world where passengers are allowed to explore every corner. In terms of your enjoyment and freedom, you practically own the ship. The crew and even the captain may not realize that you are one of the owners, as only your name is given to the officers before you come aboard. Of course, the steward has the right to ask you to stay out of his kitchen, and the captain can ask you to stay out of the pilot house—but they never do that. Take, for example, the guest who hangs around the pilot house almost from morning till night, who insists on taking steering lessons, and who on any other vessel would quickly be told to stay in their cabin or mind their own business; they might be a millionaire themselves—a millionaire who is giving this line of ships thousands of dollars’ worth of freight each year. So the captain and crew must be friendly. But as I've mentioned before, this is seen as a pleasure and not a duty on the Inland Seas. I’ve taken trips on many vessels, and it means a lot when I say that I have never come across an unpleasant captain, and only once did I meet a mate who was not nice to the passengers.
149 So, from the first day out, the big steel ship is an “open house” to its guests. Forward and aft of the cabins, great awnings are stretched, thick rugs and carpets are spread upon the deck, and easy chairs are scattered about. The captain and his mates are ready with the answers to a thousand questions. They point out objects and locations of interest as they are passed. There, in the late storms of last autumn, a ship went down with all on board; on yonder barren coast, five or six miles away, the captain guides your glasses to the skeleton of a ship, whose tragic story he tells you; he names the lighthouses, the points of coasts, and tells you about the scores of ships you pass each day. He shows you how the wonderful mechanism of the ship is run from the pilot-house, and he gives you lessons in the points of the compass, and perhaps lets you try your hand at the wheel. And each hour, if you have been abroad, you see more and more how an ocean trip cannot be compared to this. In a preceding chapter I have described what you see and what you pass in this thousand-mile journey to Duluth; how you slip from summer to autumn, from the heart of the nation’s population to vast, silent wildernesses where the bear and the wolf roam unmolested; how great cities give place to mining and lumber camps, and you come into the great northern lake where darkness does not settle until after nine o’clock at night.
149 From the very first day out, the big steel ship is an “open house” for its guests. In front and back of the cabins, large awnings are set up, thick rugs and carpets are laid out on the deck, and comfortable chairs are placed around. The captain and his crew are ready with answers to a million questions. They point out interesting sights as you pass them by. Over there, during the heavy storms of last autumn, a ship sank with everyone on board; on that barren shore, five or six miles away, the captain directs your binoculars to the wreck of a ship, sharing its tragic story; he names the lighthouses, the coastal points, and tells you about the many ships you see each day. He shows you how the ship’s amazing machinery is operated from the pilot house, gives you lessons on navigation, and might even let you take a turn at the wheel. With each hour, if you’ve been outside, you realize more and more how an ocean trip is unlike anything else. In the previous chapter, I described what you see and encounter on this thousand-mile journey to Duluth; how you transition from summer to autumn, from the heart of the nation's population to vast, quiet wildernesses where bears and wolves roam freely; how bustling cities give way to mining and lumber camps, and you enter the great northern lake where darkness doesn’t fall until after nine o’clock at night.

Tugs Trying to Release Boats Held in the Ice at the Soo.
Tugs Working to Free Boats Stuck in the Ice at the Soo.
Copyright 1906 by Young, Lord & Rhoades, Ltd.
Copyright 1906 by Young, Lord & Rhoades, Ltd.
But these are not the only things which make a trip on a Great Lakes freighter interesting. It is what you can do. There are a dozen games you can play, from hatch-bag to shuffle-board; there is music and reading, eating and drinking—for the steward is constantly alive to your wants, always alive to add to your pleasures. And there is excitement—if not of one kind then of another. You may be thrilled by the sudden alarm of fire aboard ship, and find yourself burning with relief when you discover that you are witnessing nothing but an exciting fire drill; it may be a wrestling or boxing match between two of the ship’s champions, a race over the steel hatches, or—something like the following incident:
But these aren't the only things that make a trip on a Great Lakes freighter interesting. It's what you can do. There are a dozen games you can play, from hatch-bag to shuffleboard; there’s music, reading, eating, and drinking—because the steward is always attentive to your needs, constantly looking to enhance your enjoyment. And there’s excitement—whether it’s one kind or another. You might get a rush from the sudden fire alarm on the ship, only to feel a wave of relief when you realize it’s just an exciting fire drill; it could be a wrestling or boxing match between two of the ship’s champions, a race across the steel hatches, or—something like the following incident:
One of the greatest sources of entertainment for guests aboard a Lake freighter is in the study of the men and boys of the crew, for the average crew of twenty-five or thirty always possesses some odd characters. Our party was very much amused by one individual, a youth of about twenty, large, round-faced, full-fed, a young man of unbounded good humour whose two great joys in life were his meals—and sleep. This youth never lost an opportunity to take a nap. After his dinner in the mess-room, he would promptly fall into a doze in his chair, to be aroused by a dash of cold water or some other practical joker’s trick; if he sat down on a hatch he would sleep; he would fall asleep leaning against the cabin. His151 actions caused no little uneasiness on the part of the captain, who liked the boy immensely. “Some day he will fall asleep and topple overboard,” he said.
One of the biggest sources of entertainment for guests on a Lake freighter is watching the crew, as the average crew of twenty-five or thirty always has some interesting characters. Our group was particularly entertained by one guy, a young man around twenty, with a large, round face and a well-fed appearance. He was a cheerful fellow whose two greatest joys in life were eating and sleeping. This young man never missed a chance to take a nap. After lunch in the mess hall, he would quickly doze off in his chair, only to be woken up by a splash of cold water or some other prank. If he sat down on a hatch, he’d fall asleep; he even dozed off leaning against the cabin. His actions caused quite a bit of concern for the captain, who liked the boy a lot. “One day he’s going to fall asleep and tumble overboard,” he said.
We had come into Superior, where the clear, dry air exerts a peculiar effect upon one. Coming suddenly from the warm atmosphere of the Lower Lakes a person has difficulty in keeping his eyes open half of the time up there. We were off Keweenaw Point when the thrilling alarm was spread that “Dopey,” the sleepy youth, had fallen overboard. The aft steward brought the news forward. Billy had eaten a huge dinner and was taking a comfortable siesta standing, half leaning over the aft rail. A moment after passing him the steward returned, bent upon stirring the boy from his dangerous position, and found him gone. The vessel was searched from stem to stern. Even the passengers joined in the hunt. But there was found no sign of the missing youth, and a deep gloom fell upon the people of the ship. An hour later, one of the young ladies approached the steep, narrow stair that led down into the forward locker. The mate himself had searched this gloomy nook for Billy. I was a dozen feet behind the girl and she turned to me with a white, startled face.
We had arrived in Superior, where the clear, dry air has a strange effect on you. Coming suddenly from the warm atmosphere of the Lower Lakes, it’s hard to keep your eyes open half the time up there. We were off Keweenaw Point when the shocking news spread that “Dopey,” the sleepy kid, had fallen overboard. The aft steward brought the news to the front. Billy had had a huge dinner and was taking a comfortable nap standing up, half leaning over the back rail. A moment after passing him, the steward came back, determined to wake the kid from his dangerous spot, and discovered he was gone. The ship was searched from front to back. Even the passengers joined in the search. But no sign of the missing kid was found, and a heavy gloom settled over everyone on the ship. An hour later, one of the young ladies walked up to the steep, narrow stairs that led down into the forward locker. The mate himself had already searched that dark corner for Billy. I was about ten feet behind the girl, and she turned to me with a pale, startled expression.
“Come here—quick!” she cried. “Listen!”
“Come here—quick!” she shouted. “Listen!”
Together we bent our heads over the opening—and up to our ears there came a mysterious sound now so low that we could hardly hear it, then louder—152something that for a moment held us speechless and set our hearts beating at double-quick. It was the snoring of a sleeping person! In another instant we were down in that dingy hole of ropes and cables and anchor chains, and there, curled up in the gloom, we found Billy, sleeping a sleep so sound that it took a good shaking to awaken him. On deck he explained the mystery. The passing of the steward aft had aroused him from his nap against the rail, and he had wandered forward, seeking the cool seclusion of the locker.
Together we leaned our heads over the opening—and a mysterious sound reached our ears, starting off so low that we could barely hear it, then growing louder—152something that left us momentarily speechless and made our hearts race. It was the snoring of a sleeping person! Moments later, we found ourselves in that cramped space filled with ropes, cables, and anchor chains, where we discovered Billy, curled up in the darkness, sleeping so deeply that it took a good shake to wake him up. On deck, he explained the situation. The steward passing by had disturbed his nap against the rail, and he had wandered forward in search of the cool, quiet space of the locker.

Whaleback Barges Preparing for Winter Quarters at Conneaut, Ohio.
Whaleback Barges Getting Ready for Winter Storage in Conneaut, Ohio.
(The Whaleback is a type of vessel that has been tried and found wanting. They are going out of use.)
(The Whaleback is a type of ship that has been tested and found lacking. They are becoming less common.)
While this little affair did not end in a tragedy, I give it as an illustration of the fact that something of interest, if not excitement, is constantly occurring to keep the guests of a Great Lakes freighter alive to the possibilities of the trip. The night following Billy’s mysterious disappearance, for instance, the two young ladies aboard our ship nearly brought about a mutiny. Before going into the details of this incident, it is necessary for me to repeat what I have said in a preceding paragraph—that the seamen of our Lakes are the best fed working people in the world. If a captain does not provide the best of meats and vegetables and fruits, and in sufficient quantities, he may find himself minus a crew when he reaches port. One day as I was leaning over the aft rail the steward approached me and said:
While this little incident didn’t end in tragedy, I mention it as an example of the fact that something interesting, if not exciting, is always happening to keep the guests on a Great Lakes freighter engaged with the possibilities of the trip. For instance, the night after Billy’s mysterious disappearance, the two young ladies on our ship nearly sparked a mutiny. Before diving into the details of this incident, I need to repeat what I mentioned earlier—that the sailors on our Lakes are the best-fed working people in the world. If a captain doesn’t provide top-notch meats, vegetables, and fruits, and in sufficient amounts, he may find himself short a crew when he reaches port. One day, while I was leaning over the back rail, the steward approached me and said:
“Do you see that ship off there?”
“Do you see that ship over there?”
He pointed to a big down-bound freighter.
He pointed to a large freighter heading downriver.
153 “Notice anything peculiar about it?” he continued.
153 “Do you notice anything odd about it?” he added.
I confessed that I did not.
I confessed that I didn’t.
“Well, this is the noon hour,” he went on, “and the sea-gulls always know when it’s feeding time. But there are no gulls following that ship. There are a good many more ships in that same line—and there’s never a gull behind them. Do you know why? It’s because the grub on those boats is so poor. The gulls have learned to tell them as far as they can see ’em, and they won’t have anything to do with ’em, and that’s the Lord’s truth, sir! Any man on the Lakes will tell you so, and the men on those boats most of all. They don’t take a job there until they’re down and out and can’t get work anywhere else.”
“Well, it’s noon,” he continued, “and the seagulls always know when it’s time to eat. But there aren’t any gulls following that ship. There are plenty more ships in that same line—and there’s never a gull behind them. Do you know why? It’s because the food on those boats is so bad. The gulls have learned to recognize them from as far away as they can see them, and they won’t go near them, and that’s the honest truth, sir! Any guy on the Lakes will tell you that, especially the men on those boats. They only take a job there when they’re desperate and can’t find work anywhere else.”
On the afternoon of Billy’s adventure, the young lady who discovered him was taken slightly ill and was not present at dinner. Late that night, however, she was much improved—and ravenously hungry. As the steward and his wife were in bed there was no chance of getting anything to eat forward. In some way the girl had learned that a part of the crew, who were in the night watch, had luncheon in the aft mess-room at midnight, and this young lady and her chum, and the three young men in the party, planned to wait until after that hour and then, stealing quietly aft, help themselves to the “leavings.” At twelve-thirty, the decks were dark and silent, with154 the watch ahead of the forward deck-houses, and the young people made their way unobserved to the mess-room. Not a soul was about, and on the table was meat and cake and pickles, and a huge pot of coffee was simmering on the range. The five helped themselves. No one interrupted them, and when fifteen or twenty minutes later they slipped back to their quarters the table was pretty well cleaned. Now it just happened that the night men, instead of eating at midnight, ate at one—an hour later, and when they came in after six hours of hard work, tired and hungry, only the wreck of what should have been, greeted their astonished eyes. The men were in a rage. They had been imposed upon as no self-respecting, liberty-loving man of the Lakes will allow himself to be imposed upon—in the way of food; and it took the combined efforts of the two stewards and their wives, and the humble apologies of the three young men, to straighten the affair out. Thereafter, at midnight, the mess-room door was locked.
On the afternoon of Billy’s adventure, the young woman who found him felt a bit unwell and missed dinner. However, later that night, she was feeling much better—and incredibly hungry. Since the steward and his wife were in bed, there was no chance of getting any food from the kitchen. Somehow, the girl discovered that a part of the crew on the night watch had a late-night meal in the aft mess-room at midnight, so she, her friend, and the three young men in their group planned to wait until after that hour and then quietly sneak back to grab the leftovers. At twelve-thirty, the decks were dark and silent, with154 the watch stationed in front of the forward deck-houses, and the young people made their way unnoticed to the mess-room. There was no one around, and on the table were meat, cake, pickles, and a big pot of coffee simmering on the stove. The five of them served themselves. No one interrupted them, and fifteen or twenty minutes later, when they slipped back to their quarters, the table was pretty much cleared off. It just so happened that the night crew, instead of eating at midnight, ate at one—an hour later. When they returned after six hours of hard work, tired and famished, they were met with only the remnants of what should have been there. The men were furious. They felt wronged, as no self-respecting, freedom-loving man of the Lakes would allow himself to be cheated—especially when it comes to food; it took the combined efforts of the two stewards and their wives, along with the sincere apologies from the three young men, to resolve the situation. From then on, the mess-room door was locked at midnight.

The more one comes in touch and sympathy with the lives of these men of the Lakes the more one’s interest increases; and it is not until one eats and drinks with them aft, and secures their confidence and friendship, that he is let into the secrets of the inner and home life of these red-blooded people, which is unlike the life of any other seafaring men in the world. It is when this confidence and friendship155 is won that you begin to reap the full pleasure of a trip on a Great Lakes freighter; it is then that the romance, the picturesqueness, and the superstition of the Lake breed creep out. Not until that time, for instance, will you discover that these rough strong men of the Lakes are the most indomitable home-owners in the world. A home is their ambition, the goal toward which they constantly work. From the deckhand to the young, unmarried mate it is the reward of all their labour, the end for which they are all striving. And there are good reasons for this—reasons which have made the “home instinct” among Lake sailors almost a matter of heredity. The ships of the Inland Seas are almost constantly in sight of land. Now it is a long stretch of coast a mile or so away; again it is a point stretching out to sea, or the shores of some of the most beautiful streams in America. And wherever there is land within shouting or megaphone or “whistle” distance of the passing vessels, there nestle the little homes of those who run the ships of our fresh-water marine. It may be that for an entire season of seven or eight months the Lake sailor has no opportunity of visiting his family. Yet every week or so he sees his home and his wife and children from the deck of his ship. It is easy for those ashore to learn from the marine officers when a certain vessel is due to pass, and at that hour wives and sweethearts, friends and children, assemble on the shore to bid their loved ones Godspeed. All156 of the vessels on the Lakes have their private code of signals. Perhaps in the still hours of night, the sleeping wife is aroused by the deep, distant roar of the freighter’s voice. For a moment she listens, and it comes again—and from out there in the night she knows that her husband is talking to her; and the husband, his eyes turned longingly ashore, sees a light suddenly flash in the darkness, and his heart grows lighter and happier in this token of love and faith that has come to him. And in the hours of day it is more beautiful still; and the passengers and crew draw away, leaving the man alone at the rail, while the wife holds up their baby for the father to see, and throws him kisses; and there is the silence of voiceless, breathless suspense on the deck that the faint voice of the woman, or the happy cries of the children, may reach the husband and father, whose words thunder back in megaphone greeting. It is beautiful and yet it is pathetic, this constant union of the people of the Lake breed. And the pathos comes mostly when there is no answer from the little home ashore, for it is then that visions of sickness, of misfortune, and possibly of neglect cast their gloom.
The more you connect and empathize with the lives of the men on the Lakes, the more your interest grows. It’s not until you dine and drink with them afterward, gaining their trust and friendship, that you learn the secrets of their inner and home life—an existence unlike that of any other seafaring people in the world. Once you earn that trust and friendship155, you start to experience the full enjoyment of a trip on a Great Lakes freighter; that’s when the romance, the charm, and the superstitions of the Lake culture reveal themselves. It’s only then, for example, that you'll discover these tough, strong men of the Lakes are some of the most determined homeowners. Owning a home is their dream, the ultimate goal they work toward constantly. From the deckhand to the young, unmarried mate, it’s the reward for all their hard work, the destination they’re all aiming for. There are good reasons for this—a “home instinct” among Lake sailors that’s almost hereditary. The ships on the Inland Seas are nearly always in sight of land. Sometimes it’s a long stretch of coast a mile away; other times, it’s a point jutting out into the sea, or the shores of some of America’s most beautiful rivers. And wherever there’s land within shouting, megaphone, or “whistle” distance from the passing vessels, the small homes of those who operate the freshwater fleet are nestled close by. Even though a Lake sailor might not get to see his family for an entire season of seven or eight months, he can often catch glimpses of his home, wife, and children from the deck of his ship. It’s easy for those on shore to find out when a specific vessel is expected to pass, and at that time, wives, sweethearts, friends, and children gather to wish their loved ones safe travels. All156 the vessels on the Lakes have their own signals. Maybe during the quiet hours of the night, the sleeping wife is stirred awake by the deep, distant sound of the freighter’s horn. She listens for a moment, and it comes again—she knows her husband is reaching out to her from out there in the night, while he, longing for the shore, sees a light flash in the darkness, lifting his spirits with this sign of love and faith. During the day, it’s even more beautiful; passengers and crew step back, leaving the man at the rail while the wife holds their baby up for him to see, blowing kisses; and there’s a hushed anticipation on deck, hoping her soft voice or the joyous cries of the children will reach the husband and father, whose booming reply comes back over the megaphone. This constant bond among the Lake people is both beautiful and poignant. The sadness intensifies when there’s no response from the little home on shore, as it brings to mind worries about illness, misfortune, or possibly neglect.
In a hundred other ways that I might describe does one see life on a Great Lakes freighter as on none of the vessels of the salt seas. It is a life distinct from all others, a life that is building a people within itself—the people of the Lake breed.
In a hundred different ways that I could describe, life on a Great Lakes freighter is unlike any of the ships on the salty seas. It's a unique life, one that is creating a community all its own—the community of the Lake breed.
While the modern romance of the Great Lakes, the vast commerce that has grown upon them, the great cities along their shores, and the part they have played in the history of the last generation form, to my mind, one of the most absorbing and at the same time one of the most fruitful subjects for the writer of to-day, it is to the “dim and mysterious ages of long ago” that one must allow his imagination to be carried, if he would understand, in its fullest measure, the part that our Inland Seas should hold within the hearts of the American people. It has been my desire, in this volume, to establish between our people and our Lakes that bond of friendship which unfortunately has never existed except upon their very shores. In the years in which I have studied the Lakes, their commerce, and their people, I have been astonished at the dearth of material which has been published about them, and not until this discovery came upon me forcefully did I understand that our own glorious Inland Seas, holding in perpetual160 inheritance for the American people one half of the fresh water of the whole globe, are, indeed, “aliens in the land of their birth.”
While the modern allure of the Great Lakes, the extensive trade that has developed around them, the major cities along their shores, and the role they have played in recent history make, in my view, one of the most fascinating and also one of the most rewarding topics for today's writer, it is to the “vague and mysterious times of the past” that one must let their imagination wander to fully understand the significance our Inland Seas should have in the hearts of the American people. In this book, I aim to create a bond of friendship between our people and our Lakes that unfortunately has never truly existed beyond their immediate shores. Throughout the years I have studied the Lakes, their commerce, and their communities, I have been surprised by how little material has been published about them, and it wasn't until this realization struck me powerfully that I came to appreciate that our own magnificent Inland Seas, which hold in their depths a lasting legacy for the American people containing half of the world's fresh water, are, in fact, “strangers in the land of their birth.”

Arch Rock, Mackinac Island.
Arch Rock, Mackinac Island.
One of the Natural wonders of the world.
One of the natural wonders of the world.
For this reason, I am adding to my preceding chapters a brief history of the Lakes. It is not what might be called a history in detail, for such a story of the Inland Seas would fill volumes in itself. No other portion of the globe has been fraught with more incident of historical and romantic interest than these fresh-water heritages of our nation. The dramas that have been played upon them or along their shores would fill libraries. Their unrevealed pages of romance and tragedy would furnish rich material for the writers of a century. About them lie the dust of three quarters of the aboriginal inhabitants of North America. Along their shores were fought some of the world’s most relentless wars of absolute extermination. Upon their waters occurred the most romantic adventures of the early exploration of the continent. Every mile of these waters, now clouded with the smoke of a gigantic commerce, is fraught with the deepest historical interest. And yet, as I write this, there comes to my mind a thought of those countless thousands of Americans who, travelling afar for their pleasures, seek in every quarter of the globe that their feet may tread in awesome respect upon spots hallowed because of their historical associations, whether those associations be of fact, of legend, or of song.
For this reason, I’m adding a brief history of the Lakes to my earlier chapters. It’s not what you’d call a detailed history, since a full account of the Inland Seas would fill many volumes on its own. No other part of the world has had more events of historical and romantic significance than these freshwater treasures of our nation. The dramas that have unfolded on or near them could fill entire libraries. Their untold stories of romance and tragedy would provide rich material for writers for a century. The remains of three quarters of the original inhabitants of North America lie around them. Some of the fiercest wars of total extermination were fought along their shores. The most romantic adventures of early exploration happened on their waters. Every mile of these waters, now clouded by the smoke of massive commerce, is loaded with deep historical meaning. And yet, as I write this, I think of the countless Americans who travel far and wide for pleasure, seeking to tread with awe on spots that are sacred due to their historical significance, whether those connections are based on fact, legend, or song.
161 The romance of the Lakes does not begin with their early discoverers; neither does it begin with the primitive inhabitants along their shores. It dawns with their making. Unnumbered thousands of years ago, before the glaciers of the Ice Age crept over the continent; when prehistoric monsters, still living in a tropical world, roamed throughout what is now the Lake region; and when man, if he existed at all, was in his crudest form, the Great Lakes were still unborn. Where their ninety-five thousand square miles of surface now afford the world’s greatest highways of water commerce there were then vast areas of plain, of highland and plateau, rising at times to the eminence of mountains. Those were the days when the North American continent was completing itself, when the last handiwork in the creation of a world was in progress. In place of the Lakes there were then a number of great rivers in these regions—rivers, which despite the passing of ages, have left their channels and their marks to this day. These rivers were all of one system and were all tributary to one great stream, the Laurentian River, whose channel to the sea was that of the St. Lawrence of to-day. Were it possible for one to conceive himself back in those primitive times a journey over this first great river system of the continent would have carried him, first of all, from the still unfinished ocean along the south shore of what is now Lake Ontario. He would have travelled within ten miles of where162 scores of towns and cities now flourish, and almost directly opposite what is now the Niagara River he would have encountered another great stream pouring into the Laurentian from the south and west. This river continued almost through the middle of what is now Lake Erie, and opposite where Sandusky is now situated divided itself into two branches, which still exist in the Maumee and the Detroit. The Laurentian continued northward close along the southern shore of Georgian Bay, turned southward to the centre of the Lake Huron basin, where the Huronian River, sweeping across central Michigan, joined it from Saginaw Bay. The Laurentian itself passed northward through the Straits of Mackinaw and terminated in what is now Lake Michigan. The story of this vast water system has been left in clearly defined outlines; its indelible marks are ancient valleys, sand-filled channels of the great streams, and worn escarpments. Seldom has science had an easier story to read of ages that are gone.
161 The charm of the Great Lakes doesn't start with their early explorers or the original inhabitants along their shores. It begins with their creation. Thousands of years ago, before the Ice Age glaciers covered the continent; when prehistoric creatures still roamed a tropical world that is now the Lake region; and when humans, if they existed at all, were in their most basic form, the Great Lakes hadn't come into existence yet. Where there are now ninety-five thousand square miles of water providing the world’s busiest water routes, there used to be vast stretches of plains, highlands, and plateaus, sometimes rising to the height of mountains. Those were the times when the North American continent was taking shape, and the final touches of world creation were underway. Instead of the Lakes, there were several major rivers in these areas—rivers that, despite the passing of ages, still show their channels and marks today. These rivers were part of the same system and all flowed into one significant river, the Laurentian River, which connected to the sea via what we now know as the St. Lawrence River. If someone could imagine traveling back to those ancient times, a journey along this first major river system of the continent would first take them from the still-unfinished ocean along the southern shore of what is now Lake Ontario. They would have traveled within ten miles of where numerous towns and cities now thrive, and almost directly across from what is now the Niagara River, they would come across another major river flowing into the Laurentian from the south and west. This river flowed nearly through the center of what is now Lake Erie and just opposite where Sandusky is located, split into two branches that still exist as the Maumee and the Detroit rivers. The Laurentian continued north, closely along the southern shore of Georgian Bay, turned southward to the center of the Lake Huron basin, where the Huronian River, flowing across central Michigan, joined it from Saginaw Bay. The Laurentian itself continued north through the Straits of Mackinaw and ended in what is now Lake Michigan. The narrative of this vast water system is outlined clearly; its lasting marks are ancient valleys, sand-filled channels of the great rivers, and worn escarpments. Rarely has science had an easier account to interpret of the distant past.
Then came the second step in the creating of the Lakes of to-day. Slowly life changed as the Glacial Age approached, and with the sweeping back of life the rivers, too, passed out of existence. During the slow passing of centuries, their channels were filled, and the valleys were obstructed with drift, so that when the Ice Age had come and gone their channels no longer ran clear and unobstructed to the sea. As a consequence, great areas were submerged,163 and hundreds of thousands of square miles of what is now fertile land, populated by millions and dotted by cities, became an ocean. But the continent was still in process of formation. The land in the Lake region began to rise, and continued in its elevation until out of the chaos of sea the Lakes were formed. To the north-east, as the centre of the continent rose, there was a tilting of the land oceanward, and this warping dropped Lake Ontario below the level of the other Lakes, thus interposing a barrier to free communication to the sea and giving birth to Niagara Falls.
Then came the second step in the creation of the Lakes we know today. Slowly, life shifted as the Glacial Age drew near, and with the retreat of life, the rivers also disappeared. Over the slow passage of centuries, their channels filled in, and the valleys became blocked with debris, so that when the Ice Age had passed, their routes no longer flowed clear and unobstructed to the sea. As a result, large areas were flooded, and hundreds of thousands of square miles of what is now fertile land, home to millions and dotted with cities, turned into an ocean. But the continent was still forming. The land in the Lake region started to rise and continued to elevate until, from the chaos of the sea, the Lakes emerged. To the northeast, as the center of the continent rose, the land tilted toward the ocean, causing Lake Ontario to drop below the level of the other Lakes, creating a barrier to free communication with the sea and giving rise to Niagara Falls.
In this way, so far as science can tell, the Great Lakes of to-day were brought into existence. How early human life existed along their shores it is impossible even to guess, but that the earliest life of the continent should first of all gather in the valleys of the vast water system that gave them birth, and afterward reassemble along their shores, is highly probable. The earliest discoverers to penetrate into the wildernesses of the West found these shores inhabited by powerful nations. Other nations were facing extermination. Still others had ceased to exist and were forgotten except in legend. Along the Inland Seas have been found evidences of a superior race to the warlike aborigines of the days of La Salle. But only these evidences, utensils of copper and stone and clay, remain as proof of their existence. What they were, when they lived, and how they164 died, is one of the mysteries that will remain forever unsolved.
In this way, as far as science knows, the Great Lakes we see today were formed. It's impossible to guess how early human life existed along their shores, but it's very likely that the first life on the continent gathered in the valleys of the vast water system that created them and later reassembled along their shores. The earliest explorers who ventured into the wilderness of the West found these shores inhabited by powerful nations. Some nations were facing extinction, while others had disappeared and were only remembered in legends. Along the Inland Seas, evidence of a more advanced race than the warlike natives of La Salle's time has been found. However, only these remnants—tools made of copper, stone, and clay—serve as proof of their existence. What they were, when they lived, and how they164 died remains one of the mysteries that will likely never be solved.
By the time the known history of the Lakes really begins their inhabitants had degenerated into warlike, ferocious savages, bent upon battle and extermination, and for the most part constantly embroiled in war of one kind or another. From Lake Ontario to the end of Superior the Lake regions were one great battle-ground, and this sanguinary history had extended so far into the past that with the coming of the first French explorers the Indians could give no comprehensive idea of when it had begun. At this time, early in the seventeenth century, the Lake country was the bone of contention among three quarters of the aborigines of North America. There was hardly a tribe that was not fighting some one of its neighbours, and the remnants of vanquished nations were constantly fleeing from their enemies and escaping total extermination by seeking safety in the West and South. In Northern Michigan and in Wisconsin there lived three branches of the Algonquin tribe, the Ottawas, the Ojibwas, and the Pottawatomies. The Ottawas had been driven westward, and the Ojibwas at this time were invading the hunting grounds of the Crees, who were entrenched on the northern shore of Lake Superior, their territory extending northward to Hudson Bay. On their west, the Ojibwas were also at war with the powerful Dakotas, who, fighting eastward from the Mississippi,165 had secured a foothold on Superior. To the eastward, encroaching upon the tribes of Lake Ontario, were the Iroquois, or Five Nations, consisting of the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, and the Senecas. Between these and the fierce Algonquins of the Upper Lakes were wedged the Hurons and the Eries, fighting vainly against the almost total extermination which became their fate a little later. It was in the war between 1650 and 1655 that both the Eries and the Neuters, on the southern shore of Lake Erie, were wiped out of existence by the Iroquois, and it was about this same time that the Hurons received their death-blow. The few that escaped fled to the Mississippi and promptly became involved in a war with the Sioux. Reduced to a pitiable remnant the once powerful Sacs and Foxes were awaiting their end along Green Bay.
By the time we really start tracking the history of the Lakes, the people living there had turned into fierce, warlike savages, focused on fighting and destruction, and were mostly caught up in constant conflict. From Lake Ontario to the end of Lake Superior, the area was like a giant battlefield, and this bloody history went back so far that when the first French explorers arrived, the Native people couldn’t give a clear idea of when it had all started. In the early seventeenth century, the Lake country was a major point of conflict among three-quarters of the Indigenous peoples of North America. Almost every tribe was in battle with its neighbors, and the survivors of defeated nations were always running from their enemies, trying to escape complete annihilation by heading west and south. In Northern Michigan and Wisconsin, there were three branches of the Algonquin tribe: the Ottawas, the Ojibwas, and the Pottawatomies. The Ottawas had been pushed westward, and at this time, the Ojibwas were invading the hunting grounds of the Crees, who were settled on the northern shore of Lake Superior, with their territory extending north to Hudson Bay. To the west, the Ojibwas were also fighting the powerful Dakotas, who had moved east from the Mississippi and established a presence on Lake Superior. To the east, the Iroquois, or Five Nations, which included the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, and Senecas, were encroaching upon the tribes around Lake Ontario. Between these fierce Algonquins of the Upper Lakes and the Iroquois were the Hurons and the Eries, who were struggling against the nearly total elimination that would soon befall them. In the war between 1650 and 1655, the Iroquois wiped out both the Eries and the Neuters, who lived on the southern shore of Lake Erie, and it was around this time that the Hurons suffered their fatal blow. The few that survived fled to the Mississippi and soon found themselves drawn into a war with the Sioux. Reduced to a small group, the once-powerful Sacs and Foxes awaited their end along Green Bay.
In these days, the Lakes were already playing a part in commerce as well as in war. Great fleets of Indian canoes made annual voyages from the Upper to the Lower Lakes, and war fleets were common spectacles from almost every coast. The greatest of these fleets, so far as is known, was that of the Iroquois, which in 1680 carried six hundred selected braves across Lake Erie, up the Detroit River, through Lake St. Clair, Lake Huron, the Straits of Mackinaw, and down to the foot of Lake Michigan, where the adventurous navigators were utterly repulsed by the warriors of the Illinois. Another Iroquois fleet166 was annihilated near Iroquois Point, in Lake Huron. In 1600, according to stories told by the Indians, a fierce naval battle in which several hundred war canoes were engaged was fought in the middle of Lake Erie by the Wyandots and the Senecas. Only one Seneca canoe escaped.
In those days, the Great Lakes were involved in trade as well as warfare. Large fleets of Indian canoes made yearly trips from the Upper to the Lower Lakes, and war fleets were a common sight along almost every shore. The largest of these fleets, known so far, was that of the Iroquois, which in 1680 transported six hundred chosen warriors across Lake Erie, up the Detroit River, through Lake St. Clair, Lake Huron, the Straits of Mackinaw, and down to the bottom of Lake Michigan, where the daring navigators were completely defeated by the warriors of the Illinois. Another Iroquois fleet166 was destroyed near Iroquois Point, in Lake Huron. In 1600, as per the stories told by the Indians, a fierce naval battle involving several hundred war canoes was fought in the middle of Lake Erie between the Wyandots and the Senecas. Only one Seneca canoe managed to escape.
It was at this time, when the Lake country and the Lakes themselves were the stage upon which were being played the most thrilling dramas of aboriginal history, that the Inland Seas were first visited by their white discoverers. In 1615, the Franciscan friar, Joseph Le Caron, in company with three other Franciscans and twelve Frenchmen, invaded the seat of the Huron nation on Matchedash Bay, where Champlain joined him a few days later. The Hurons were preparing to attack their old enemies, the Iroquois, and Champlain accompanied them on their expedition. The campaign was unsuccessful but it led to the Frenchman’s discovery of Lake Ontario. Stephen Brule, an unlettered and reckless adventurer, was the first white man to rest eyes upon Lake Superior, his voyage up Lake Huron being made some time in 1629. Brule, however, was more interested in ingots of copper which he found than in the greatest body of fresh water on the globe, and he returned south almost immediately, while it was left for Raymbault and Jogues, two hopeful missionaries in search of a passage to China, to make the first navigation of Superior. This they did in 1641. Five years after167 Brule’s discovery, another adventurer, Jean Nicolet, paddled in a birch canoe from Georgian Bay across Lake Huron and through the Straits of Mackinaw, and thus discovered Lake Michigan. As surprising as it may seem, Erie was the last of the Great Lakes to be found by white men, and although its existence was known to the French as early as 1640, it was not until 1669 that Joliet, its discoverer, made his voyage upon it.
It was during this time, when the Lake region and the Lakes themselves were the backdrop for the most exciting moments of native history, that the Inland Seas were first explored by white settlers. In 1615, the Franciscan friar Joseph Le Caron, along with three other Franciscans and twelve Frenchmen, invaded the territory of the Huron nation at Matchedash Bay, where Champlain joined him a few days later. The Hurons were getting ready to fight their longtime enemies, the Iroquois, and Champlain joined them on their mission. The campaign didn’t succeed, but it led to the Frenchman’s discovery of Lake Ontario. Stephen Brule, a reckless adventurer with no formal education, was the first white man to see Lake Superior, his journey up Lake Huron taking place sometime in 1629. However, Brule was more interested in copper he found than in the largest body of fresh water in the world, and he headed back south almost immediately. It was left to Raymbault and Jogues, two ambitious missionaries looking for a route to China, to navigate Lake Superior first, which they did in 1641. Five years after Brule’s discovery, another adventurer, Jean Nicolet, paddled in a birch canoe from Georgian Bay across Lake Huron and through the Straits of Mackinaw, thus discovering Lake Michigan. Surprisingly, Lake Erie was the last of the Great Lakes to be discovered by white men, and although the French knew about it as early as 1640, it wasn't until 1669 that Joliet, its discoverer, made his journey across it.
The situation as it existed in the entire Lake country at the time of the coming of these first explorers was so unreasonably tragic that, viewed from the present day, it approaches dangerously near to having a touch of the comic about it. As one early writer says, “It was as if a pack of dogs were fighting over a bone. Only—where was the bone?” There was hardly an Indian tribe that was not at war with some other tribe, and in most instances, according to the discoverers, there were no evident causes for the sanguinary conflicts. “It was as if all the savages were impelled by a bad spirit, and a rage of extermination was sweeping over the land,” wrote one of the early Fathers. It is a popular superstition that the extinction of the red man must be ascribed to the coming of the white, but nothing shows more graphically the error of this belief than these conditions of the seventeenth century in the Lake country. The aborigines were exterminating themselves. They were doing the work completely, mercilessly.168 Nations had already been put out of existence. The Eries and Neuters were but lately annihilated. The once powerful Hurons were reduced to a remnant. The Sacs and Foxes were doomed. Existing tribes were weakened and scattered by ceaseless war. And sweeping down from the east the all-powerful Iroquois, the Romans of the wilderness, were coming each year to add to the completeness of the extermination.
The situation in the entire Lake country when the first explorers arrived was incredibly tragic, and looking back now, it almost seems comical. As one early writer put it, “It was like a pack of dogs fighting over a bone. Only—where was the bone?” Nearly every Indian tribe was at war with another, and according to the explorers, there often seemed to be no clear reasons for these bloody conflicts. “It was as if all the natives were driven by a bad spirit, and a desire for extermination was sweeping across the land,” wrote one of the early missionaries. There's a common belief that the decline of the Native Americans was caused by the arrival of the white settlers, but nothing illustrates the mistake of this belief better than the conditions of the seventeenth century in the Lake country. The natives were destroying themselves. They were doing it thoroughly and without mercy. Entire nations had already been wiped out. The Eries and Neuters had just been annihilated. The once-strong Hurons had become a remnant. The Sacs and Foxes were facing doom. Existing tribes were weakened and scattered by constant warfare. And coming down from the east were the powerful Iroquois, the Romans of the wilderness, arriving each year to further the complete extermination.168

Now came the whites, and with their presence there developed slowly a check to the indiscriminate slaughter. At no time in the world was the missionary spirit more active, and scores of the disciples of the Church plunged fearlessly into the wilderness of the Lake regions, daring their perils of starvation and torture and death that the word of God might reach the hearts of the savages. And with them there came hundreds of adventurous spirits, trappers employed by the “Hundred Associates,” fortune-hunters, and reckless souls who had no other object than the excitement of exploration and discovery, but all of whom were staunch Catholics. The very fearlessness of these white invaders acted as a governor on the hostile energies of the savages, and their interests, in a small way at first, began to be diverted into other channels than those of war. Among the neutral nations on the Niagara River, Father Joseph de la Roche d’Aillon formed a mission early in the seventeenth century. As early as 1615, the Recollects169 had established a mission among the Hurons, which was later continued by the Jesuits. For more than thirty years, the missionaries had laboured among the Hurons when, in 1648, the Senecas and Mohawks fell upon their country, razed twenty of their villages, killed most of their 3000 fighters, and totally destroyed them as a people. Two of the Jesuit Fathers, Brébeuf and Daniel, gave up their lives in the fearful massacres of those days. It was only five years later that the Iroquois, destroyers of the Hurons, requested the French to send missionaries among them, and for nearly twenty years the zealous Jesuits brought about a lull in the sanguinary conflicts of the Five Nations, but at the end of that time when war flamed out anew they were compelled to abandon their missions. Meanwhile, along the Upper Lakes, the missionary movement was being prosecuted with extreme vigour. Garreau and Claude Allouez, with other missionaries, worked along the shores of Superior, establishing missions among the Sacs and Foxes and Pottawatomies. In 1668, Marquette established his famous mission at Sault Ste. Marie, and three years later founded the mission of St. Ignace on the Straits of Mackinaw.
Now the white settlers arrived, and slowly, their presence began to put a stop to the reckless killing. At no other time in history was the missionary spirit more active, with many followers of the Church bravely venturing into the wilderness of the Lake regions, facing the dangers of starvation, torture, and death so that God's word could reach the hearts of the indigenous people. Alongside them came hundreds of adventurous individuals: trappers working for the “Hundred Associates,” fortune-seekers, and daring souls who were motivated solely by the thrill of exploration and discovery, yet all of them were devoted Catholics. The very fearlessness of these white newcomers acted as a control on the aggressive actions of the indigenous people, and their focus, initially in a small way, began to shift from war to other pursuits. Among the neutral tribes along the Niagara River, Father Joseph de la Roche d’Aillon set up a mission in the early seventeenth century. As early as 1615, the Recollects169 had founded a mission among the Hurons, which was later carried on by the Jesuits. For over thirty years, the missionaries worked among the Hurons when, in 1648, the Senecas and Mohawks attacked their territory, destroying twenty of their villages, killing most of their 3,000 warriors, and completely wiping them out as a people. Two of the Jesuit Fathers, Brébeuf and Daniel, lost their lives in the horrific massacres of those times. Just five years later, the Iroquois, who had devastated the Hurons, asked the French to send missionaries to them, and for nearly twenty years, the dedicated Jesuits helped to reduce the bloody conflicts of the Five Nations. However, when war reignited after that period, they were forced to leave their missions. Meanwhile, along the Upper Lakes, the missionary effort was being pursued with great vigor. Garreau and Claude Allouez, along with other missionaries, worked along the shores of Lake Superior, setting up missions among the Sacs, Foxes, and Pottawatomies. In 1668, Marquette founded his well-known mission at Sault Ste. Marie, and three years later, he established the mission of St. Ignace on the Straits of Mackinaw.
It would take a volume to describe the adventures of these early Fighters of the Faith, their trials and sacrifices, their successes and failures. The briefness of our sketch compels us to move quickly from these absorbing scenes to the first great event in170 the history of Lake navigation, and to the beginning of that encroachment of the English which was to develop a hundred years of war along the Inland Seas. While the Jesuit Fathers were sacrificing their lives among the savages and while the Indian wars of extermination were still in progress, the French farther east had already begun to feel the hostile influence of the English. To check this influence La Salle and Count Frontenac brought about the erection of Fort Frontenac, in 1673, on the present site of Kingston. At this time, Robert Cavelier, Sieur de la Salle, a young man of eminence and learning, was of the supreme faith that he was destined to discover a water passage through the American continent to China and Japan, and the building of Fort Frontenac was only the first step in the gigantic scheme which he planned to carry out. A part of this scheme was the building of a vessel of considerable size in which La Salle planned not only to make a complete tour of the Lakes but in which he hoped to discover the route that would lead to the Orient. Five years later, the young adventurer made the portage around Niagara Falls, and at the mouth of Cayuga Creek, in Niagara County, New York, where is now located the town of La Salle, he began the construction of the first vessel ever to sail the Inland Seas.
It would take a whole book to describe the adventures of these early Fighters of the Faith, their struggles and sacrifices, their successes and failures. The briefness of our overview forces us to quickly move from these gripping scenes to the first major event in 170 the history of Lake navigation and to the start of the English encroachment that would lead to a century of conflict along the Inland Seas. While the Jesuit Fathers were giving their lives among the natives and while the Indian wars of extermination were still ongoing, the French further east were already beginning to feel the negative impact of the English. To counter this influence, La Salle and Count Frontenac initiated the construction of Fort Frontenac in 1673, on what is now the site of Kingston. At this time, Robert Cavelier, Sieur de la Salle, a young man of notable intellect and learning, firmly believed he was destined to find a water route through the American continent to China and Japan, and the building of Fort Frontenac was just the first step in his grand plan. Part of this plan involved constructing a large vessel, which La Salle intended not only to use for a complete tour of the Lakes but also to help him discover the route to the Orient. Five years later, the young adventurer navigated the portage around Niagara Falls, and at the mouth of Cayuga Creek in Niagara County, New York, where the town of La Salle now stands, he began building the first vessel ever to sail the Inland Seas.
There are different estimates as to the size of the ship, but that it was somewhere between fifty and171 sixty tons there is little doubt. Assisting in this work were Tonty and Hennepin, and it took all of the persuasive powers of the three to keep the Griffin, as the vessel had been named, from the hostile hands of the Senecas as she lay in her stocks. The ship, when launched, was completely rigged, found with supplies for a long voyage, and armed by seven pieces of cannon and a quantity of muskets. She carried two masts and a jib, and was decorated with the usual ornaments of an ancient ship of war, including a flying griffin at the jib-boom and a huge eagle aft. For hundreds of miles about, the Indians came to see this wonderful “floating fort” before she set sail. Thirty-two souls were to form the crew of the Griffin in her adventurous search for the route to Cathay, and on the day that she turned her prow up the Niagara River, La Salle and his followers fell upon their knees, invoking upon themselves the mercies of God in an undertaking which, they believed, was to be one of the most venturesome of their age. With all on board singing the Te Deum Laudamus, the Griffin passed into Lake Erie, and while at the sight of the great water ahead of them the priests again invoked the blessings of God, the first ship to sail the Lakes boldly headed into those “vast and unknown seas of which even their savage inhabitants knew not the end.”
There are various estimates regarding the size of the ship, but it's generally agreed that it weighed between fifty and171 sixty tons. Tonty and Hennepin helped with this task, and it took all three of their persuasive abilities to keep the Griffin, as the ship was named, safe from the hostile Senecas while it was in the stocks. When launched, the ship was completely rigged, stocked with supplies for a long journey, and armed with seven cannons and several muskets. It had two masts and a jib, and was adorned with the usual decorations of an ancient warship, including a flying griffin at the jib-boom and a large eagle at the stern. For hundreds of miles around, Native Americans came to see this impressive “floating fort” before it set sail. Thirty-two men would make up the crew of the Griffin on its adventurous quest for a route to Cathay, and on the day it headed up the Niagara River, La Salle and his followers knelt down, asking for God's mercy in an endeavor they believed to be one of the most daring of their time. With everyone on board singing the Te Deum Laudamus, the Griffin entered Lake Erie, and as the great expanse of water lay before them, the priests again called for God's blessings. The first ship to sail the Great Lakes boldly ventured into those “vast and unknown seas, the extent of which even their savage inhabitants did not know.”
According to the historian Hennepin, who was a member of the expedition, days and nights of the172 wildest speculation, of hope, of fear, and of anxious anticipation now followed. Rumour filled the seas ahead of them with innumerable perils. The hardy navigators knew not at what instant destruction might overtake them in any one of a dozen ways in which they supposed themselves to be threatened. Each morning and night the entire crew joined in prayers and in singing the hymns of the Church. Lake Erie was crossed in safety, and on the eleventh of August the Griffin entered the Detroit River. Hennepin was enthralled with its wonderful beauty. “The river was thirty leagues long,” he says, “bordered by low and level banks, and navigable throughout its entire length. On either side were vast prairies, extending back to hills covered with vines, fruit trees, thickets, and tall forest trees, so distributed as to seem rather the work of art than nature.” Passing between Grosse Isle and Bois Blanc Island, the Griffin sailed slowly up the river, frequent stops being made along its course; it passed the present site of Detroit, and on the day of the festival of Saint Claire the navigators entered the lake which they gave that name. On the twenty-third of August, the Griffin entered into Lake Huron, the Franciscans chanting the Te Deum for the third time, and the entire crew joining in offering up thanks to the Almighty for the smiling fortune that had thus far accompanied them on their voyage.
According to the historian Hennepin, who was part of the expedition, days and nights filled with wild speculation, hope, fear, and anxious anticipation followed. Rumors filled the seas ahead with countless dangers. The brave navigators didn’t know when destruction might come upon them in any one of the many ways they believed they were threatened. Every morning and night, the whole crew gathered for prayers and sang hymns of the Church. They crossed Lake Erie safely, and on August 11, the Griffin entered the Detroit River. Hennepin was captivated by its incredible beauty. “The river was thirty leagues long,” he writes, “with low and flat banks, and navigable the whole way. On both sides were vast prairies, extending back to hills covered with vines, fruit trees, thickets, and tall forest trees, arranged in such a way that it seemed more like art than nature.” As they passed between Grosse Isle and Bois Blanc Island, the Griffin sailed slowly up the river, making frequent stops along the way; it passed the present site of Detroit, and on the feast day of Saint Claire, the navigators entered the lake they've named after him. On August 23, the Griffin entered Lake Huron, with the Franciscans chanting the Te Deum for the third time, and the entire crew joining in giving thanks to the Almighty for the good fortune that had accompanied them so far on their journey.
Crossing Saginaw Bay the Griffin lay for two days173 among the Thunder Bay islands and then continued her way into the North. Almost immediately after this, La Salle and his companions were caught in a terrific storm, and in the height of its fury, when it was thought that the end had come and that all the demons of this mysterious world were working their destruction, La Salle made a vow that if God would deliver them he would erect a chapel in Louisiana to the memory of St. Anthony de Padua, the tutelary saint of the sailor. As if in response to this vow, the wind subsided and the storm-beaten Griffin found shelter in Michilimackinac Bay, where a mission had been built among the Ottawas. Early in September, the Griffin sailed into Lake Michigan and continued to Washington Island, at the entrance to Green Bay. Here a party of missionaries and traders had been established for a year. They had collected a large quantity of furs, valued at about twelve thousand dollars, and La Salle changed his original plans and sent the Griffin back to Niagara with this treasure, with the idea of continuing his own exploration by canoe.
Crossing Saginaw Bay, the Griffin anchored for two days173 among the Thunder Bay islands before heading north. Soon after, La Salle and his crew were caught in a terrible storm. At its peak, when it seemed like they would not survive and all the forces of this unknown world were against them, La Salle vowed that if God saved them, he would build a chapel in Louisiana in honor of St. Anthony de Padua, the patron saint of sailors. Almost as if in response to his vow, the wind calmed down, and the battered Griffin found refuge in Michilimackinac Bay, where a mission had been established among the Ottawas. Early in September, the Griffin set sail into Lake Michigan and headed to Washington Island, at the entrance to Green Bay. There, a group of missionaries and traders had been settled for a year and had gathered a significant amount of furs, worth about twelve thousand dollars. La Salle decided to change his original plans and sent the Griffin back to Niagara with this treasure, intending to continue his exploration by canoe.
On the eighteenth of September, 1679, La Salle bade adieu to the Griffin and her crew, and from the point of a headland watched her white sails until they dropped below the horizon. It was the last he ever heard or saw of the ship. No sign of her was ever afterward found, no soul who sailed with her lived to tell the story of her tragic end. In the174 years that followed, it was rumoured that Indians boarded and destroyed her, and massacred her crew. Hennepin was of the opinion that she was lost in a storm. Others believed that some of her crew had mutinied and that after murdering their companions they had joined the Ottawas, where they met their own fate. From time to time in recent years, relics have been found along the Lakes which have revived stories of the mysterious disappearance of the Griffin, but none of these finds have yet thrown reasonable light upon the tragic end of this first vessel to navigate the Inland Seas and of the venturesome spirits who manned her. By all but a few the Griffin is forgotten, or has never been known. Yet by the millions who live along the Great Lakes she should be held in much the same reverence as are the caravels of Columbus by the whole nation.
On September 18, 1679, La Salle said goodbye to the Griffin and her crew, and from the edge of a headland, he watched her white sails until they disappeared over the horizon. It was the last he ever heard or saw of the ship. No sign of her was ever found afterward, and no sailor who was aboard lived to share the story of her tragic fate. In the174 years that followed, there were rumors that Indians boarded and destroyed her and killed her crew. Hennepin thought she was lost in a storm. Others believed that some of her crew had mutinied, murdered their shipmates, and joined the Ottawas, where they met their own end. Occasionally in recent years, artifacts have been discovered along the Great Lakes that have sparked stories about the mysterious disappearance of the Griffin, but none of these discoveries have provided clear insight into the tragic fate of this first vessel to sail the Inland Seas and the adventurous souls who manned her. By almost everyone, the Griffin is forgotten or unknown. Yet for the millions living along the Great Lakes, she should be remembered with the same respect that the nation holds for Columbus's caravels.

For more than a hundred years after the sailing of the Griffin the Great Lakes and the country about them were destined to be the scenes of almost ceaseless war. The fury of the internecine strife of the Indians was on the wane. Their conflicts of extermination had worked their frightful end and it now came time for them to give up the red arena of the Inland Seas to other foes, among whom the last vestiges of their power were doomed to melt away like snow under the warmth of the sun. For unnumbered generations they had fought among themselves. Nations of red men had been born, and nations had died. The Lake regions were white with their bones and red with their blood, and now those that remained of them were to be used as pawns in the games of war between the English and the French, among whom they were still to play an important though a fatal part.
For more than a hundred years after the journey of the Griffin, the Great Lakes and the surrounding areas were set to become the sites of nearly constant conflict. The intensity of the internal wars among the Native Americans was decreasing. Their battles of extermination had led to a devastating end, and it was now time for them to surrender the red battlegrounds of the Inland Seas to new enemies, among whom the last remnants of their power would vanish like snow under the sun's warmth. For countless generations, they had fought amongst themselves. Nations of Native Americans had risen and fallen. The Lake regions were filled with their bones and stained with their blood, and now those who remained were to be used as pawns in the wars between the English and the French, in which they would continue to play a significant, albeit tragic, role.
The romantic voyage of the Griffin marked that era when the French were gaining possession of the Lakes. Eight years before La Salle’s expedition, Simon Francis Daumont had taken formal possession176 of the Inland Seas in the presence of seventeen different Indian nations. In 1761, a fort had been erected at Mackinaw, and Daniel Deluth, after whom the city of Duluth was named, planted a colony of French soldiers among the Sioux and Assiniboines of Minnesota. From this time on, the power of the French steadily gained in ascendancy and the work of winning the allegiance of the Indians progressed for a number of years without interruption. In 1686, Fort Duluth was built on the St. Clair River, and fifteen years later, in 1701, Cadillac built a fort on the present site of Detroit, which was destined to play a picturesque and important part in the century of war that was to follow. Other forts of the French were at Michilimackinac (Mackinac), Chicago, Green Bay, and on the Niagara River. Nearly all of the Indians of the Lake regions had become their allies, with the exception of the Iroquois. The forests and streams were the haunts of French traders. The Church was establishing itself more and more firmly among the tribes. The adventurous trappers of the fur companies were even living among the savages, and there was fast developing between the red men and the French that bond of friendship which was to remain almost unbroken through all of the troublous times that were to follow. The power of France, at this time, seemed bound to rule the destinies of the Inland Seas.
The romantic journey of the Griffin marked the time when the French were claiming control of the Lakes. Eight years before La Salle’s expedition, Simon Francis Daumont officially took ownership176 of the Inland Seas in front of seventeen different Indian nations. In 1761, a fort was built at Mackinaw, and Daniel Deluth, after whom the city of Duluth was named, established a colony of French soldiers among the Sioux and Assiniboines in Minnesota. From then on, French influence steadily increased, and efforts to gain the loyalty of the Indians continued uninterrupted for several years. In 1686, Fort Duluth was constructed on the St. Clair River, and fifteen years later, in 1701, Cadillac built a fort at the current location of Detroit, which was set to play a significant and colorful role in the coming century of conflict. Other French forts were located at Michilimackinac (Mackinac), Chicago, Green Bay, and along the Niagara River. Nearly all the Indians in the Lake regions had become their allies, except for the Iroquois. The forests and rivers were the domains of French traders. The Church was establishing a stronger presence among the tribes. The adventurous fur trappers were even living among the Native Americans, and a strong friendship was developing between the indigenous people and the French, one that would remain largely intact through the turbulent times to come. At this time, it seemed that France was destined to control the fate of the Inland Seas.
On the other hand, the Iroquois were the implacable177 enemies of the French and their allies, and the friends of the English. They were distributed over a territory which embraced the Lake Ontario regions and which extended to the English settlements of the East, thus offering a free and safe road of travel to English traders into the domains of the French. Reduced to less than a quarter of the fighting strength that they had possessed before the wars of extermination, they were still the terror of all other Lake tribes, and the English were not slow to take advantage of the opportunities which their friendship offered them. At every possible point the Five Nations checked the movements of the French, and at the same time assisted the English traders to invade their territory. In 1684, De la Barre, then Governor of Canada, determined to destroy this last menace to French dominion, and sent word throughout the Lake regions calling upon his warrior allies to assemble at Niagara for a great war of extermination upon the Iroquois. De la Barre himself proceeded to Lake Ontario with a powerful force of nearly two thousand men, but an epidemic of sickness attacked his army and the only result of the “campaign of extermination” was a peaceful conference with the Oneidas, Onondagas, and Cayugas.
On the other hand, the Iroquois were relentless177 enemies of the French and their allies, and allies of the English. They occupied land that included the Lake Ontario area and extended to the English settlements in the East, creating an open and secure route for English traders into French territory. Although their fighting strength had been reduced to less than a quarter of what it was before the extermination wars, they still instilled fear in all other tribes around the lake, and the English were quick to take advantage of the benefits that came with their friendship. At every opportunity, the Five Nations hindered French movements and simultaneously helped English traders invade their land. In 1684, De la Barre, then Governor of Canada, decided to eliminate this last threat to French control and called upon his warrior allies in the Lake regions to gather at Niagara for a major campaign to wipe out the Iroquois. De la Barre himself went to Lake Ontario with a strong force of nearly two thousand men, but his army was struck by an epidemic of sickness, and the only outcome of the “campaign of extermination” was a peaceful conference with the Oneidas, Onondagas, and Cayugas.
The failure of De la Barre’s plans was the first great blow to French dominion. The English traders became more daring and parties penetrated even as far as Michilimackinac, one of the French strongholds.178 These traders were regarded as fair game by the French wherever found, but though several parties were captured the invasion from the East did not cease. Alarmed at the growing danger, the French determined to make another campaign against the Iroquois. To the existence of the Five Nations they ascribed their peril. With these fierce warriors out of the way they could easily hold the English back.
The failure of De la Barre’s plans was the first major setback for French control. English traders became bolder, and groups even ventured as far as Michilimackinac, one of the French strongholds.178 These traders were seen as easy targets by the French wherever they appeared, but despite several groups being captured, the invasions from the East didn’t stop. Concerned about the increasing threat, the French decided to launch another campaign against the Iroquois. They blamed the presence of the Five Nations for their danger. If they could eliminate these fierce warriors, they believed they could easily keep the English at bay.
In 1687, the Marquis Denonville, who had succeeded De la Barre, gathered two thousand troops and six hundred Indian warriors at Montreal, and with the advice that a thousand Indian allies would meet him at Niagara set out for the land of the Iroquois. On June 23d, the forces met at Fort Frontenac and from there proceeded to Irondequoit, in the enemy’s country. Only the Senecas, one branch of the Five Nations, had gathered to meet the invaders, and in the fierce battle that followed, the French and their allies were defeated and driven to the shores of the lake. Satisfied with their victory, the Senecas did not press the invaders, and Denonville took advantage of his opportunity to build Fort Niagara, after which he led the remnant of his defeated army back to Montreal, leaving a garrison of one hundred men in the new stronghold. During the winter that followed, the Senecas besieged the fort with such success that less than a dozen of its defenders escaped with their lives.
In 1687, Marquis Denonville, who had taken over from De la Barre, assembled two thousand troops and six hundred Native American warriors in Montreal. He was informed that a thousand Native allies would join him at Niagara, so he headed towards the Iroquois territory. On June 23rd, they gathered at Fort Frontenac and then moved on to Irondequoit, deep in enemy territory. Only the Senecas, one of the Five Nations, showed up to confront the invaders, and in the intense battle that ensued, the French and their allies were defeated and pushed back to the lake's shores. Content with their victory, the Senecas chose not to pursue the invaders, giving Denonville the chance to construct Fort Niagara. He then brought the remaining members of his defeated army back to Montreal, leaving a garrison of one hundred men at the new fort. During the winter that followed, the Senecas laid siege to the fort so effectively that fewer than a dozen defenders managed to survive.
179 News of the defeat of the French spread like wildfire. It penetrated to the farthest fastnesses of the known wildernesses. English traders began to swarm into the Lower Lake regions. The Indian nations allied to the French were thrown into a panic. The war spirit of the Iroquois was aroused to a feverish height by their victory, and they swarmed to the invasion of the French dominions. Fort Frontenac was captured and burned. Both the allies and the French were swept back with tremendous slaughter, and their power upon the Lower Lakes was broken. “It seemed,” said an early writer, “as if the Five Nations would sweep over the entire Lake country, driving all enemies from their shores, and thus delivering into the hands of the English all that the French had gained.”
179 News of the French defeat spread like wildfire. It reached the most remote parts of the known wilderness. English traders began flooding into the Lower Lake regions. The Native American tribes allied with the French were thrown into a panic. The Iroquois's war spirit was stirred to a fever pitch by their victory, and they surged into the French territories. Fort Frontenac was captured and burned. Both the allies and the French were pushed back with massive losses, breaking their hold on the Lower Lakes. “It seemed,” said an early writer, “as if the Five Nations would sweep over the entire Lake country, driving all enemies from their shores, and thus handing everything the French had gained over to the English.”
But, in this hour of victory, the shadow of doom was hovering over the martial people of the Five Nations. For unnumbered years the conquerors of the New World, the time had at last come for their fall. The War of the Palatinate was at hand, and the hostilities of the French and the English spread to land and sea. Rumours came that Frontenac was about to sweep down upon New York, and the faithful Iroquois turned back to defend the city of their White Father. They threw themselves between the invaders and their friends, an unconquerable barrier. New York was saved, but in the struggle the power of the Five Nations was broken. For many years they180 still remained a force to be reckoned with, but as the conquering Romans of the Wilderness and the terror of a score of nations, extending even to the Mississippi, their history was at an end. In their passing it must be said that a braver man, a truer friend, or a more relentless foe never existed on the American continent than the Iroquois warrior.
But in this moment of victory, a dark cloud loomed over the martial people of the Five Nations. After countless years of dominating the New World, their downfall was finally at hand. The War of the Palatinate was approaching, and the conflicts between the French and the English spread to both land and sea. There were rumors that Frontenac was about to launch an attack on New York, and the loyal Iroquois returned to protect the city of their White Father. They positioned themselves as an indomitable barrier between the invaders and their allies. New York was saved, but in the process, the power of the Five Nations was shattered. For many years, they remained a force to be reckoned with, but as the once-conquering Romans of the Wilderness and the fearsome threat of numerous nations, even reaching the Mississippi, their history came to an end. In their decline, it must be noted that there was no braver man, truer friend, or more relentless foe on the American continent than the Iroquois warrior.
There now came a brief lull in the warfare of the Lakes. The end of the War of the Palatinate was closely followed by Queen Anne’s War, but hostilities did not openly break out along the Inland Seas. The Treaty of Utrecht in 1713 left France technically in possession of the Lakes, but, even after this treaty, the English claimed as a sort of inheritance from the Iroquois the regions of Lake Ontario and Lake Erie. This fact again gave opportunity for plenty of excitement and trouble. The French had rebuilt Fort Frontenac and were establishing other strongholds, their object being to hem the English along their seacoast possessions by means of a string of forts extending from Canada southward. To frustrate these designs Governor Burnett, of New York, began the erection of a trading-post at Oswego in 1720. The French at once reciprocated by rebuilding Fort Niagara of stone, whereupon, in 1727, the English added a strong fort to their holdings in Oswego. This all but started active hostilities again. Beauharnois, the Governor of Canada, flew into a high dudgeon, sent a written demand for the English to181 abandon the fort, and threatened to demolish it unless this was done. The response of the English was to strengthen their garrison. Instead of carrying out his threat of war, Beauharnois began the strengthening of all the French forts, a work which continued for several years. Meanwhile the French trappers, traders, and priests of the Upper Lakes had been stirring the passions of the Indians against the encroaching English. The latter, in 1755, built two warships on Lake Ontario, and it was pointed out to the Western tribes that these were two of the terrible engines that were intended to work their destruction. By the time of the breaking out of the Seven Years’ War, the French, though their population was less than a tenth of that of their enemies, were splendidly prepared for war.
There was a brief pause in the conflict around the Lakes. The end of the War of the Palatinate was soon followed by Queen Anne’s War, but fighting didn’t openly erupt along the Inland Seas. The Treaty of Utrecht in 1713 left France technically in control of the Lakes, but even after this treaty, the English claimed the regions of Lake Ontario and Lake Erie as a kind of inheritance from the Iroquois. This situation created plenty of excitement and trouble. The French rebuilt Fort Frontenac and were establishing more strongholds, aiming to confine the English to their coastal possessions by creating a series of forts stretching from Canada southward. To counter these plans, Governor Burnett of New York began constructing a trading post at Oswego in 1720. The French quickly responded by rebuilding Fort Niagara in stone, and in 1727, the English added a strong fort to their holdings in Oswego. This nearly sparked active conflict again. Beauharnois, the Governor of Canada, was furious, sending a written demand for the English to abandon the fort, threatening to destroy it if they did not comply. The English responded by strengthening their garrison. Instead of following through on his war threat, Beauharnois focused on reinforcing all the French forts, a project that lasted several years. Meanwhile, French trappers, traders, and priests in the Upper Lakes were stirring up the Indians against the encroaching English. In 1755, the English built two warships on Lake Ontario, and they pointed out to the Western tribes that these were dangerous machines meant to bring about their destruction. By the time the Seven Years’ War broke out, the French, although their population was less than a tenth of their enemies', were exceptionally prepared for war.
Actual operations in this last struggle between the French and the English for the possession of the Lakes began in 1756, when De Lery and De Villier set out with some six hundred men to capture Oswego and other forts. On the Onondaga River, De Villier encountered Bradstreet and his English and was completely defeated, more than a hundred of his men being killed. Meanwhile, from Fort Frontenac, General Montcalm was preparing to descend upon Oswego, and on the ninth of August, 1756, he arrived in sight of the English stronghold with three thousand men under his command. On the twelfth the battle began. From the beginning it was a surprise to both combatants.182 The victory of the French was comparatively easy and complete. The English loss was one hundred and fifty killed and wounded. Nearly two thousand prisoners were taken, one hundred and twenty cannon and mortars, six war vessels, and an immense amount of stores and ammunition. The blow was a terrific one for the English. Oswego had been their Gibraltar. In it were their shipbuilding yard, nearly all of their heavy ordnance, and a large part of the stores that were to supply them during the war. For the first time, the English realised what a terrible loss they had sustained in the breaking of the power of the Five Nations.
Actual operations in the final struggle between the French and the English for control of the Lakes began in 1756, when De Lery and De Villier set out with about six hundred men to capture Oswego and other forts. On the Onondaga River, De Villier faced Bradstreet and his English forces and was completely defeated, with over a hundred of his men killed. Meanwhile, from Fort Frontenac, General Montcalm was preparing to attack Oswego, and on August 9, 1756, he approached the English stronghold with three thousand men under his command. The battle started on the twelfth. From the outset, it was a surprise to both sides.182 The French victory was relatively easy and decisive. The English suffered a loss of one hundred and fifty killed and wounded. Nearly two thousand prisoners were taken, along with one hundred and twenty cannons and mortars, six war vessels, and a massive amount of supplies and ammunition. This was a devastating blow for the English. Oswego had been their Gibraltar. It housed their shipbuilding yard, almost all of their heavy artillery, and a large portion of the supplies they needed for the war. For the first time, the English realized just how significant a loss they had endured with the weakening of the power of the Five Nations.

It was not until 1758 that the English regained a little of their lost prestige. Everywhere the French had been victorious. But, in the summer of this year, Colonel Bradstreet attacked Fort Frontenac with thirty-five hundred men, and after two days of battle the garrison surrendered. This was as decisive a blow to the French as was the loss of Oswego to the English. Ten thousand barrels of supplies, nearly a hundred cannon, and five vessels were destroyed. The French now saw that the beginning of the end was at hand. Little Fort Niagara was burned the following year to keep it from falling into the hands of their enemies, and a little later Fort Niagara surrendered. At this time French reinforcements were on their way to Niagara, but hearing of the fall of this last stronghold the ships183 which bore them were destroyed at the northern end of Grand Island, in a bay which from that time has been known as Burnt Ship Bay, and at the bottom of which, until a comparatively short time ago, the remains of the old vessels were plainly to be seen. With the fall of Montreal in 1760, the last flag of the French passed from the Great Lakes. Their warships were scuttled, their forts in the North surrendered, and within a few months England was everywhere supreme along the Inland Seas.
It wasn’t until 1758 that the English regained a bit of their lost reputation. The French had been winning everywhere. But that summer, Colonel Bradstreet launched an attack on Fort Frontenac with 3,500 men, and after two days of fighting, the garrison surrendered. This was a significant blow to the French, just as losing Oswego had been for the English. Ten thousand barrels of supplies, nearly a hundred cannons, and five ships were destroyed. The French realized that the beginning of the end was near. Little Fort Niagara was burned the following year to prevent it from falling into enemy hands, and soon after, Fort Niagara surrendered. At that point, French reinforcements were on their way to Niagara, but upon hearing of the fall of this last stronghold, the ships183 carrying them were destroyed at the northern end of Grand Island in a bay that became known as Burnt Ship Bay, where, until relatively recently, the remains of the old vessels could still be seen. With the fall of Montreal in 1760, the last French flag was removed from the Great Lakes. Their warships were scuttled, their forts in the North surrendered, and within a few months, England had become dominant throughout the Inland Seas.
There now followed a curious and absorbingly interesting phase of Lake history. The English had conquered the French—but they had not conquered the red allies. The warriors of the Upper Lakes could not be made to understand the situation. “We fight until there are none of us left to fight,” they said. “Why is it that our French brothers have run? Shall we run because they have run? We were their friends and brothers. We are their friends now, and though you have conquered them we will still fight for them, so long as there are among us men who can fight.” A more beautiful illustration of the friendship and loyalty of the Indian warrior could hardly be conceived than this.
There now followed a curious and incredibly interesting phase of Lake history. The English had defeated the French—but they had not defeated the Native American allies. The warriors of the Upper Lakes couldn’t grasp the situation. “We fight until there are none of us left to fight,” they said. “Why have our French brothers run? Should we run just because they have? We were their friends and brothers. We are their friends now, and even if you’ve conquered them, we will still fight for them, as long as there are men among us who can fight.” It’s hard to imagine a more beautiful example of the friendship and loyalty of the Indian warrior than this.
And it was largely this loyalty, this loyalty to a race that had been destroyed in their regions, that was to result in those terrible wars and massacres which marked the course of English rule along the Lakes, almost as regularly as mile-posts mark the184 course of a road. In the hearts of the savages there was an intense, ineradicable hatred of the English. They, and not the French, were regarded as the usurpers and despoilers of the country. This hatred was even greater than that of the Five Nations toward the French. It was something, as one old writer says, “beyond description, beyond the power to measure.”
And it was mainly this loyalty, this loyalty to a race that had been wiped out in their areas, that led to those horrific wars and massacres that marked English rule along the Lakes, almost as consistently as mile markers track the184 path of a road. In the hearts of the natives, there was a deep, unshakeable hatred of the English. They, and not the French, were seen as the ones who took over and ravaged the land. This hatred was even stronger than that of the Five Nations toward the French. It was something, as one old writer puts it, “beyond description, beyond the power to measure.”
In these days, a fearful fate was rolling up slowly for the string of forts along the Inland Seas, a doom that came without warning and with terrible completeness. At the head of the great conspiracy which was to result in the destruction of all the forts held by the English, with the exception of that at Detroit, was Chief Pontiac. On May 16, 1763, the first blow fell. By what was called treachery on the part of the Indians, but what would be termed stratagem in a white man’s war, Fort Sandusky was captured and its entire garrison, with the exception of one man, was massacred. Meanwhile a band of Pottawatomies from Detroit had hurried to the fort at the mouth of St. Joseph’s River, at the head of Lake Michigan, and, on the morning of the twenty-fifth, killed the whole of its garrison with the exception of three. Eight days later Michilimackinac (Mackinac) fell. On the morning of this fatal day, a large party of Ojibwas were to play a game of ball with the Sacs, and not a breath of suspicion filled the breasts of the doomed officers and men.185 Discipline was relaxed on account of the game. Excitement ran high. The Indians were in the best of spirits, and had never seemed more friendly. Their sole thought seemed to be of the great game. Scores of blanketed squaws and old men had assembled, and these, without creating suspicion, had gathered close to the open gates. The game began, and the shouting, struggling savages rushed this way and that in pursuit of the ball. Now they would surge far from the stockade, now so close that they would crush against its pickets. Suddenly the ball shot high into the air and fell inside the fort, and a hundred yelling savages rushed to the gates. Instantly the scene was changed. The squaws and the old men threw back their blankets and gave hatchets and guns to the warriors as they rushed past them. Within a few minutes, seventeen men were killed and the rest of the garrison were prisoners. Five of these prisoners were afterward killed by their captors. The fate of the garrison at Presque Isle was less terrible. For two days, the defenders of the fort held off the savages and then surrendered upon the promise that their lives would be spared. The prisoners were carried to Detroit.
In those days, a terrifying fate was slowly approaching for the series of forts along the Inland Seas, a doom that arrived without warning and with shocking finality. Leading the major conspiracy that would lead to the destruction of all the forts held by the English, except for the one in Detroit, was Chief Pontiac. On May 16, 1763, the first strike occurred. What was labeled treachery by the Indians, but would be called strategy in a white man's war, was the capture of Fort Sandusky, where the entire garrison, except for one man, was slaughtered. Meanwhile, a group of Pottawatomies from Detroit rushed to the fort at the mouth of St. Joseph’s River, at the head of Lake Michigan, and on the morning of the twenty-fifth, they killed the entire garrison except for three. Eight days later, Michilimackinac (Mackinac) fell. On that fatal morning, a large group of Ojibwas were set to play a ball game with the Sacs, and not a hint of suspicion filled the hearts of the doomed officers and men.185 Discipline had relaxed because of the game. Excitement was high. The Indians were in great spirits and seemed friendlier than ever. Their only focus appeared to be the game. Scores of bundled squaws and old men had gathered, and they, without raising suspicion, moved close to the open gates. The game began, and the shouting, active savages rushed around in pursuit of the ball. Sometimes they would surge far from the stockade, and at other times they would crush against its pickets. Suddenly, the ball flew high into the air and fell inside the fort, prompting a hundred yelling savages to rush for the gates. Instantly, the scene shifted. The squaws and old men threw back their blankets and handed hatchets and guns to the warriors as they rushed past. Within a few minutes, seventeen men were killed, and the rest of the garrison were taken captive. Five of those prisoners were later killed by their captors. The fate of the garrison at Presque Isle was less dire. For two days, the defenders of the fort resisted the savages before surrendering on the promise that their lives would be spared. The prisoners were taken to Detroit.
During this time, while the conspiracy was working with such terrible success at nearly every point, the great Pontiac himself had failed in his designs upon Detroit. The garrison at this point was the strongest on the Lakes, being composed of one hundred and186 twenty men under the command of Major Gladwin and some forty or fifty traders and trappers. They were strongly entrenched behind palisades twenty-five feet high, were well supplied with the necessities of war, and Pontiac regarded them as invincible unless he could overcome them by stratagem. By the merest chance a fearful massacre was averted. Early in May Major Gladwin received warning of Pontiac’s plotting, but paid comparatively little attention to it until, under a clever pretext, the Indian chieftain asked that he and a number of his warriors be allowed to enter the fort. Under their blankets Pontiac and his braves carried hatchets and short-barrelled rifles, their intention being to take the unprepared garrison by surprise and during the first excitement of the fray to throw open the gates for the hundreds of armed savages waiting near. But when the Indians came within the palisades they found the garrison under arms and awaiting them.
During this time, while the conspiracy was succeeding at almost every turn, the great Pontiac himself had failed in his plans to take Detroit. The garrison here was the strongest on the Lakes, made up of one hundred and186 twenty men under Major Gladwin's command, along with about forty or fifty traders and trappers. They were heavily fortified behind twenty-five-foot-high palisades, well stocked with the essentials of war, and Pontiac considered them unbeatable unless he could outsmart them. By sheer luck, a terrible massacre was avoided. In early May, Major Gladwin was warned about Pontiac’s schemes, but he didn’t take it very seriously until, using a clever excuse, the Indian chief requested to enter the fort with some of his warriors. Under their blankets, Pontiac and his men hid hatchets and short-barreled rifles, planning to catch the unsuspecting garrison off guard and then, in the chaos, open the gates for the hundreds of armed warriors waiting outside. But when the Indians entered the palisades, they discovered the garrison was armed and ready for them.

Old West Blockhouse, Fort Mackinac.
Fort Mackinac Old West Blockhouse.
Built by the British, about 1780.
Built by the British around 1780.
This frustrated all of the great chief’s carefully laid plans, and the attack was postponed. Three days later Pontiac again asked admittance to the fort, but was refused. Knowing that in some way his plot had been revealed to the English, Pontiac at once began his attack and for several hours fought desperately to take the stronghold, but was repulsed again and again with great loss. Desultory fighting, attacks and counter-attacks, were frequent features of the siege that followed. Meanwhile twenty187 boats and a hundred men, together with a large quantity of supplies, had left Fort Niagara for Detroit under the command of Lieutenant Cuyler, and these reinforcements were anxiously awaited by the besieged. They were destined never to reach Detroit. On June 28th, Lieutenant Cuyler and his command landed on Point Pelee with the intention of camping there for the night. Hardly had they drawn their boats upon the beach when they were greeted by a tremendous volley of musketry, and with frightful yells a horde of savages rushed down upon them from their ambush. Taken completely by surprise the English made no resistance but fled precipitately for their boats. Less than forty men, many of them wounded, escaped in three boats and made for Fort Sandusky, which they found had been destroyed. All hope of reaching Detroit was now abandoned and the worn and wounded remnants of the reinforcing party rowed back to Niagara.
This frustrated all of the great chief's carefully laid plans, and the attack was postponed. Three days later, Pontiac again requested entry into the fort but was turned away. Knowing that somehow his plot had been leaked to the English, Pontiac immediately launched his attack and for several hours fought fiercely to seize the stronghold, but was pushed back repeatedly with heavy losses. Random skirmishes, assaults and counterattacks, were common during the siege that followed. Meanwhile, twenty187 boats and a hundred men, along with a large supply of provisions, had departed from Fort Niagara for Detroit under Lieutenant Cuyler's command, and the besieged were anxiously awaiting these reinforcements. They were never destined to reach Detroit. On June 28th, Lieutenant Cuyler and his men landed on Point Pelee, planning to camp there for the night. They had barely pulled their boats onto the beach when they were met with a thunderous volley of gunfire, and with terrible cries, a group of warriors charged down upon them from their hiding spots. Completely caught off guard, the English offered no resistance and fled hastily for their boats. Fewer than forty men, many of them injured, escaped in three boats and made their way to Fort Sandusky, which they found had been destroyed. With no hope of reaching Detroit, the weary and wounded remnants of the reinforcements rowed back to Niagara.
Meanwhile the condition of the garrison at Detroit was becoming desperate. Both ammunition and food were becoming exhausted, many of the defenders were wounded or sick, and each day seemed to add to the strength of the savage besiegers. On the morning of June 30th, seven weeks after the beginning of the siege, a large number of boats flying the English flag were seen coming up the river. Joy gave place to horror when it was seen that these boats were filled with Indians and with white prisoners, the188 latter being those who were captured at Point Pelee. While these savage victors had been making their way westward, Lieutenant Cuyler and his handful of fugitives were on their way to Niagara, where they brought news of the destruction of Fort Sandusky and of the possible fate of Detroit. At Fort Niagara was the armed schooner Gladwin, named after the defender of Detroit, and on July 21st, she sailed for the besieged fort carrying with her supplies and a reinforcement of sixty men. On the night of the 23d, while the schooner was lying becalmed between Fighting Island and the mainland in the Detroit River, she was attacked by the Indians, who were completely repulsed. For several days, while slowly making her way up the river against headwinds and current, the cannon of the Gladwin spread consternation and havoc among the savages along the shores. Late in July, Captain Dalzell arrived with a score of barges, bringing cannon, ammunition, supplies, and an additional force of three hundred men. Pontiac, however, was still hopeful of success. His force had been increased by more than a thousand warriors, and this fact led to the sending of another reinforcement from Fort Niagara. Six hundred regulars under the command of Major Wilkins left late in September. Near Pointe-aux-Pins they encountered a terrific gale on Lake Erie in which seventy men and three officers besides an immense amount of stores and ammunition were lost, a calamity which189 compelled the survivors to return to Niagara. Winter brought partial relief to Detroit. The great number of Pontiac’s warriors made the struggle for subsistence a hard one and with the coming of the cold months the tribes separated to keep from starvation, leaving only a part of their fighting men to maintain the siege, thus removing for the time being the immediate danger of the capture and massacre of the garrison.
Meanwhile, the situation for the garrison at Detroit was getting desperate. Both ammunition and food were running low, many defenders were injured or sick, and each day seemed to boost the strength of the savage attackers. On the morning of June 30th, seven weeks into the siege, a large number of boats flying the English flag were spotted coming up the river. Joy turned to horror when it became clear that these boats were filled with Indians and white prisoners, the latter being those captured at Point Pelee. While these savage victors made their way west, Lieutenant Cuyler and his small group of survivors were heading to Niagara, where they reported the destruction of Fort Sandusky and the potential fate of Detroit. At Fort Niagara, there was the armed schooner Gladwin, named after the defender of Detroit, and on July 21st, she set sail for the besieged fort with supplies and a reinforcement of sixty men. On the night of the 23rd, while the schooner was anchored peacefully between Fighting Island and the mainland in the Detroit River, she was attacked by the Indians but successfully repelled them. For several days, while slowly making her way up the river against strong winds and currents, the cannon of the Gladwin caused chaos among the savages along the shore. Late in July, Captain Dalzell arrived with a number of barges, bringing cannons, ammunition, supplies, and an extra force of three hundred men. However, Pontiac was still optimistic about his chances. His force had grown by over a thousand warriors, leading to another reinforcement being sent from Fort Niagara. Six hundred regulars under Major Wilkins departed late in September. Near Pointe-aux-Pins, they faced a terrible storm on Lake Erie that resulted in the loss of seventy men and three officers, along with a huge amount of supplies and ammunition—a disaster that forced the survivors to return to Niagara. Winter brought some relief to Detroit. The large number of Pontiac’s warriors made the struggle for resources tough, and with the arrival of colder months, the tribes split up to avoid starvation, leaving only a portion of their fighters to continue the siege and temporarily reducing the immediate threat of the garrison's capture and massacre.
During the winter that followed, the English prepared to begin a campaign in the spring of a magnitude heretofore unknown among the wilderness tribes. The daring and confidence of the Indians were becoming more and more menacing. On September 14th, one of the most terrible massacres of the Lake country occurred at Devil’s Hole, three miles below Niagara Falls. The Devil’s Hole is now visited by thousands of tourists each year, but probably not one in a hundred knows of the bloody conflict that gave it its name. On that day, a convoy of soldiers were returning to Fort Niagara from Fort Schlosser, and in the gloomy chasm of the “Hole,” which leads from the bluffs above down to the river, a party of ambushed Senecas were awaiting them. Unaware of their danger, the soldiers came within a few rods of the ambush, and in the massacre that followed all but three of the total number of twenty-four were killed. A strong force from Niagara came to give the Indians battle and was190 completely defeated, losing about twoscore of its men.
During the winter that followed, the English prepared to launch a campaign in the spring that was unprecedented among the wilderness tribes. The boldness and confidence of the Indians were becoming increasingly threatening. On September 14th, one of the most brutal massacres in the Lake country took place at Devil’s Hole, three miles below Niagara Falls. Today, Devil’s Hole attracts thousands of tourists each year, but probably not one in a hundred knows about the bloody conflict that gave it its name. On that day, a convoy of soldiers was returning to Fort Niagara from Fort Schlosser, and in the dark chasm of the “Hole,” which descends from the bluffs to the river, a group of ambushed Senecas was waiting for them. Unaware of their danger, the soldiers came within a few feet of the ambush, and in the massacre that followed, all but three of the twenty-four soldiers were killed. A strong force from Niagara came to confront the Indians and was190 completely defeated, losing about forty of its men.
The English were now practically wiped out of the Lake country, with the exception of along the Niagara and at Detroit, and the investment at the latter place threatened to be successful unless prompt steps were taken for the relief of the fort with an overwhelming force. It was not until August of the following year that a force sufficiently powerful for the campaign was gathered at Fort Schlosser. With three thousand men, General Bradstreet set out in bateaux to first strike a blow at the Indians along Lake Erie. Instead of fighting, however, the Ohio tribes were anxious to make peace with the invaders, and after a few skirmishes and many promises on the part of the Indians, Bradstreet reached Detroit. The long siege, which had existed for more than a year, was broken, treaties of peace were signed with many Indian tribes, and the English again secured possession at Michilimackinac, Green Bay, and Sault Ste. Marie. But Pontiac was irreconciliable and, like Robert Bruce of old, fled into the West with a few of his followers to await another opportunity to swoop down upon his enemies.
The English were now nearly gone from the Lake country, except for along the Niagara and at Detroit, where the siege threatened to succeed unless quick action was taken to relieve the fort with a large force. It wasn’t until August of the following year that a strong enough force for the campaign was gathered at Fort Schlosser. With three thousand men, General Bradstreet set out in bateaux to initially hit the Indians along Lake Erie. However, instead of fighting, the Ohio tribes were eager to make peace with the invaders, and after a few skirmishes and many promises from the Indians, Bradstreet reached Detroit. The long siege, which had lasted for over a year, was lifted, treaties of peace were signed with many Indian tribes, and the English regained control at Michilimackinac, Green Bay, and Sault Ste. Marie. But Pontiac remained unyielding and, like the old Robert Bruce, escaped into the West with a few of his followers to wait for another chance to strike back at his enemies.

But the balance of fate still seemed to be with the untamed children of the wilderness, for Bradstreet’s return to Fort Niagara was marked by disasters sufficient to offset much that he had achieved. At Rocky River, near Cleveland, he was caught in a191 terrific gale and met a fate similar to that which had overtaken Major Wilkins in the preceding September. In the rush for shore, twenty-five of his bateaux, six cannon, and a great quantity of his baggage and ammunition were lost, together with scores of his men. The force was now divided, a part of it to make its way through the wilderness, and the remainder to travel in the uninjured bateaux. Bradstreet reached Niagara on November 4th, but for twelve weeks the land force fought its way through tangles of forest and swamp, fighting, starving, and dying of disease and exposure. The number of those who were lost in the storm and in this overland march has never been recorded, but it was so large as to occasion petitions to the government, which was an unusual thing in those days of war and carnage. From that day to this, at various times, Lake Erie has given up relics of the lost fleets of Major Wilkins and General Bradstreet in portions of old bateaux, gun-flints, musket-barrels, bayonets, cannon balls, and other objects. At one time, when a sandbar at the mouth of the Rocky River changed its position, a vast quantity of these relics were revealed, showing that one of the lost bateaux had sunk there and had been uncovered after a lapse of many generations.
But the fate still seemed to favor the wild children of the wilderness, because Bradstreet’s return to Fort Niagara was plagued by disasters that negated much of what he had accomplished. At Rocky River, near Cleveland, he was caught in a191 severe storm and faced a fate similar to what Major Wilkins experienced the previous September. In the scramble for shore, twenty-five of his bateaux, six cannons, and a large amount of his supplies and ammunition were lost, along with many of his men. The group was now split, with part of them navigating through the wilderness and the rest traveling in the remaining intact bateaux. Bradstreet arrived at Niagara on November 4th, but for twelve weeks, the land force battled through dense forest and swamps, struggling with starvation, illness, and exposure. The number of people lost in the storm and during this overland trek has never been documented, but it was significant enough to prompt petitions to the government, which was uncommon during those times of war and bloodshed. From then until now, at various times, Lake Erie has yielded remnants of the lost fleets of Major Wilkins and General Bradstreet, including parts of old bateaux, gun-flints, musket barrels, bayonets, cannonballs, and other items. Once, when a sandbar at the mouth of the Rocky River shifted, a huge number of these artifacts were uncovered, revealing that one of the lost bateaux had sunk there and had been exposed after many generations.
For a number of years after the subjugation of the Indian tribes, the peace of the Lakes was disturbed only by the rivalries of the fur-traders and unimportant skirmishes with the savages. The era192 of warships on the Inland Seas had now begun, and by the time the Revolutionary War broke out, they were patrolled by quite a number of armed vessels bearing the flag of England. The Lakes were destined to play but a small part in the struggle for independence, however, and the most tragic event of these years upon them was the loss in a storm of the British ship Ontario, of twenty-two guns, which went down between Niagara and Oswego with her entire crew and more than a hundred of the 8th King’s Own Regiment. At this time, Spain was scheming to gain a foothold in the Lake regions, and, in 1781, a force under Don Eugenio Purre left St. Louis in the depth of winter and captured the English fort at St. Joseph. For only a few hours the flag of Spain floated over the Lake country, Don Eugenio’s scheme being merely to secure a “claim” to the regions, and once his banner had risen triumphantly above the captured fort he abandoned his position and retreated to St. Louis.
For several years after the Indian tribes were subdued, the peace of the Lakes was only disrupted by the rivalries of fur traders and minor skirmishes with the natives. The era192 of warships on the Inland Seas had begun, and by the time the Revolutionary War started, there were many armed vessels patrolling, all flying the English flag. The Lakes were set to play a minor role in the fight for independence, and the most tragic event during this time was the sinking of the British ship Ontario, which had twenty-two guns and went down between Niagara and Oswego along with its entire crew and over a hundred soldiers from the 8th King’s Own Regiment. Meanwhile, Spain was plotting to establish a presence in the Lake regions, and in 1781, a force led by Don Eugenio Purre left St. Louis in the middle of winter to capture the English fort at St. Joseph. For just a few hours, the Spanish flag flew over the Lake country; Don Eugenio’s plan was only to secure a “claim” to the area, and once his banner was raised over the captured fort, he abandoned the position and retreated back to St. Louis.
Several times during the Revolutionary War it was proposed that an attempt be made to capture Detroit, but no efforts were made in this direction, so that when peace was declared and the colonies were granted their independence, England still remained in possession of the Great Lakes. It was not until 1796 that the line of forts along their shores were surrendered into the hands of the Americans. On July 4th of that year, Forts Niagara, Lewiston,193 and Schlosser floated for the first time in history the banner of the new nation, and a week later, Captain Moses Porter raised the same emblem above Detroit. Thus after having been the stage of almost ceaseless war for more than a century and a half did it seem that peace had at last come to the Great Lakes regions. Yet were the clouds already gathering which a few years later were to burst forth in another storm of blood along the shores and upon the waters of the Inland Seas.
Several times during the Revolutionary War, people suggested trying to take Detroit, but no action was taken. So, when peace was declared and the colonies gained their independence, England still controlled the Great Lakes. It wasn't until 1796 that the series of forts along their shores were handed over to the Americans. On July 4th of that year, Forts Niagara, Lewiston,193, and Schlosser displayed the flag of the new nation for the first time in history, and a week later, Captain Moses Porter raised the same flag over Detroit. After being a battleground for over a century and a half, it finally seemed like peace had arrived in the Great Lakes region. Yet, the clouds were already forming that would soon erupt into another storm of violence along the shores and waters of the Inland Seas.
The years of peace which followed the surrender of the English along the Lakes were not ones of rapid development. It was as if this vast country, bathed in blood for more than a hundred and fifty years, had fallen into a restful sleep. Until 1800 there was almost no emigration west. By the new nation, the shores of Lake Erie were still regarded as in the far wilderness. The fur-trade, it is true, increased in volume, but not until after 1805 did the traffic of the Lakes begin to show any decided growth. From then on conditions brightened. Settlers began going into Ohio. Lake Ontario developed a considerable shipping-trade, and both the United States and Great Britain began to strengthen their naval forces, the American ships being almost entirely on Lake Ontario. At the time of the breaking out of the War of 1812, American interests on Lake Erie were almost entirely unguarded, the only vessel patrolling it being a small brig armed with six-pounders which, after its capture by the British, was named the Detroit. To195 make the situation of the Americans still worse a curious change had been working among the Indians and French. The bitter enemies of the English only a few years before, they now became their staunchest allies, and the first blow struck was largely by the Ottawas and Chippewas, who joined Captain Roberts at St. Joseph in an attack upon Mackinac. Lieutenant Hanks, who was in command of the fort, had no knowledge of the declaration of war and fell an easy victim to the strategy of Roberts and his Indians and French. Not a gun was fired in the capture of this important post, which gave to the victors the key to the entire North, and at once placed them in a commanding position for the approaching struggle.
The years of peace following the surrender of the English along the Lakes weren't a time of quick development. It was like this vast country, soaked in blood for over a hundred and fifty years, had entered a deep slumber. Until 1800, there was hardly any westward migration. For the new nation, the shores of Lake Erie were still seen as the remote wilderness. The fur trade did grow, but it wasn’t until after 1805 that traffic on the Lakes started to see any real increase. From that point, things improved. Settlers began moving into Ohio. Lake Ontario developed a significant shipping trade, and both the United States and Great Britain started to bolster their naval forces, with American ships mainly on Lake Ontario. At the outbreak of the War of 1812, American interests on Lake Erie were nearly defenseless, with only a small brig armed with six-pounders patrolling the area. After its capture by the British, it was renamed the Detroit. To195 make matters worse for the Americans, a strange shift was occurring among the Indians and French. Those who had been bitter enemies of the English just a few years earlier became their closest allies, and the first strike was largely carried out by the Ottawas and Chippewas, who joined Captain Roberts at St. Joseph in an attack on Mackinac. Lieutenant Hanks, in charge of the fort, was unaware of the declaration of war and fell easily to the tactics of Roberts and his Indian and French allies. No shots were fired in the capture of this crucial post, which gave the victors control over the entire North and immediately put them in a strong position for the coming conflict.

Events now began to assume a more warlike aspect along the Lakes. At Detroit, the Americans had been assembling in force, and on July 12, 1812, General Hull crossed the river into Canada at the head of twenty-two hundred men, his object being to prevent further construction on British fortifications which were in progress near Sandwich. Seven days later, Commodore Earle, in command of the British naval forces on Lake Ontario, made a futile bombardment of Sacketts Harbour. Meanwhile at York, now Toronto, Major-General Brock was assembling his forces, and before Hull crossed the river, he had established himself at Fort Niagara and had sent reinforcements under Colonel Proctor196 to Amherstburg, a few miles down the river from Detroit, where the British were to act as a check to Hull. The latter had prepared to march upon Malden when General Brock’s appearance at the head of a large body of British and Indian troops sent him in precipitate retreat to Detroit.
Events started to take on a more aggressive tone around the Lakes. In Detroit, the Americans were gathering in large numbers, and on July 12, 1812, General Hull led a force of twenty-two hundred men across the river into Canada, aiming to stop further construction on British fortifications near Sandwich. Seven days later, Commodore Earle, leading the British naval forces on Lake Ontario, attempted a bombardment of Sacketts Harbour but was unsuccessful. Meanwhile, in York, now Toronto, Major-General Brock was rallying his troops, and before Hull crossed the river, he had taken position at Fort Niagara and sent reinforcements under Colonel Proctor196 to Amherstburg, a few miles downriver from Detroit, where the British aimed to counter Hull's advance. Hull had intended to march on Malden when Brock's arrival with a sizable force of British and Indian troops forced him to retreat hastily back to Detroit.
Before his attack upon the Americans, Brock sought an interview with the Indian chief Tecumseh and succeeded in winning his friendship to the British cause. On August 15th, the attack upon Detroit was made, beginning with a bombardment from guns situated across the river. The Americans in their trenches were eager for battle. Never had a garrison been more confident of repulsing an enemy. As the British and Indians swept up to the attack, the men stood behind their shotted guns with lighted matches in their hands. When the enemy was less than five hundred yards away, and as his men, anxiously awaiting the order to fire, were sighting along their guns, General Hull suddenly commanded the white flag to be hoisted above the fort. Never were two combatants more thoroughly astounded. With a powerful force, strongly entrenched, Hull had surrendered without firing a shot. Two thousand men longing for battle and with the odds all in their favour became the prisoners of less than eight hundred British and six hundred Indians. It was a humiliating defeat. In an hour the prowess of the Americans had dropped to the lowest ebb. Hull’s cowardice197 not only placed the British in supreme control of the Upper Lake region but added greatly to the foes of the Americans. Those Indian tribes that had remained neutral at once turned to the British, and the disaffected militia of Canada were moved into enthusiastic support of Brock. On this same day Hull was directly responsible for one of the most horrible massacres of the Lake country. The commander at Fort Dearborn, which stood on the present site of Chicago, had received orders from Hull to evacuate his position, and, on the morning of Brock’s bombardment of Detroit, the fort’s entire garrison of seventy soldiers, together with many women and children, set out from its protection. They had gone as far as what is now Eighteenth Street when they were attacked from the rear by Miami Indians and a merciless slaughter followed. When only twenty men remained, the little force surrendered, and the captives were distributed among the savages.
Before he attacked the Americans, Brock arranged a meeting with the Indian chief Tecumseh and managed to gain his support for the British cause. On August 15th, the attack on Detroit began, starting with bombardment from guns located across the river. The Americans in their trenches were eager for battle. Never before had a garrison felt so confident in repelling an enemy. As the British and Indians advanced, the men stood behind their loaded guns with lit matches in their hands. When the enemy was less than five hundred yards away and his troops anxiously awaited the order to fire, General Hull suddenly ordered the white flag to be raised above the fort. Both sides were utterly taken aback. With a strong force well-entrenched, Hull surrendered without firing a shot. Two thousand men, yearning for battle and with all the advantages on their side, became prisoners of less than eight hundred British soldiers and six hundred Indians. It was a humiliating defeat. In just an hour, the reputation of the Americans hit rock bottom. Hull’s cowardice197 not only put the British in complete control of the Upper Lake area but also significantly increased the number of American foes. The Indian tribes that had remained neutral immediately sided with the British, and the discontented militia of Canada rallied in enthusiastic support of Brock. On that same day, Hull directly contributed to one of the most horrific massacres in the Lake region. The commander at Fort Dearborn, located at the current site of Chicago, received orders from Hull to evacuate his position, and on the morning of Brock’s bombardment of Detroit, the fort's entire garrison of seventy soldiers, along with many women and children, left for safety. They had only reached what is now Eighteenth Street when they were ambushed from behind by Miami Indians, leading to a brutal slaughter. When only twenty men remained, the small group surrendered, and the captives were shared among the attackers.
At about this time there occurred an event on Lake Erie which somewhat lightened the gloom occasioned by the American reverses. Commodore Chauncey, in command of the American naval forces on Ontario, had sent Commander Jesse D. Elliott up to Erie to begin the construction of a navy. Elliott was a born fighter and not slow to grasp opportunities that came his way, and when he learned that the British ships Detroit and Caledonia were anchored under Fort Erie, he set out from Black Rock with198 one hundred and twenty-eight men, ran his boats alongside the two ships, and captured them in a fierce hand-to-hand conflict which began at three o’clock in the morning. The two vessels were at once got under way and the Caledonia was brought within the protection of an American battery near Black Rock. The Detroit was less fortunate and was compelled to haul to within a few hundred yards of a British battery. Elliott refused to abandon her until his ammunition gave out, and even then succeeded in bringing his prize to Squaw Island, where she was within the range of both American and British batteries. No sooner would one side gain possession of her than her captors would be driven off by the guns of the other, and in these attacks and counter-attacks the vessel was destroyed. Elliott, however, had the nucleus for his new fleet in the captured Caledonia.
Around this time, something happened on Lake Erie that eased the gloom caused by the American setbacks. Commodore Chauncey, who was in charge of the American naval forces on Lake Ontario, had sent Commander Jesse D. Elliott to Erie to start building a navy. Elliott was a natural fighter who quickly seized opportunities, and when he found out that the British ships Detroit and Caledonia were anchored under Fort Erie, he set off from Black Rock with198 one hundred and twenty-eight men. He brought his boats alongside the two ships and captured them in a fierce hand-to-hand battle that began at three o’clock in the morning. The two vessels got underway immediately, and the Caledonia was taken under the protection of an American battery near Black Rock. The Detroit was not so lucky and had to move within a few hundred yards of a British battery. Elliott refused to give up on her until his ammunition ran out, and even then, he managed to bring his prize to Squaw Island, where she was caught in the crossfire of both American and British batteries. Whenever one side took possession of her, the other side would drive them off with their guns, and in these attacks and counterattacks, the ship was destroyed. However, Elliott did have the foundation for his new fleet in the captured Caledonia.
At the beginning of the war, it was believed by both British and American officers that at least one of the decisive battles for the mastery of the Lakes would be fought somewhere on the Niagara frontier, and no sooner had Brock arranged civil and military matters in the West after the fall of Detroit than he hastened back to this scene of action. Meanwhile the Americans had been preparing to attack Queenston, near Niagara Falls, and from that point begin their invasion of Canada. The British were strongly entrenched upon the Heights but their199 force was considerably inferior in number to that of Colonel Van Rensselaer, who was in command of the Americans. On the evening of October 12th, a dozen boats began ferrying the troops across the river, while at the same time, Colonel Chrystie, with three hundred men, and Colonels Stranahan, Mead, and Bloom were marching to Lewiston. Early on the morning of the 13th, the British opened fire, in the face of which the Americans began scaling the Heights, driving the enemy back as they advanced. At the time of the crossing of the Americans, Brock was at Fort George but lost no time in hastening to the field of battle. In a little marshy plot at the foot of the summit on which the final struggle occurred, now marked by a small stone monument and overgrown with long grass and weeds, a bullet struck him through the body and he fell mortally wounded. This was a terrible blow to the British, but, in the face of the calamity, they gallantly mustered their forces for the recapture of the Heights. There were still about fifteen hundred Americans across the river, and if once they were allowed to join Colonel Van Rensselaer a position would be achieved of even greater importance than that of the British at Detroit and Mackinac. With one thousand men, the British began a furious attack of the Heights, which were defended by not more than three hundred of the Americans who had crossed the river. The battle was one of the most desperate and at the same time200 one of the most picturesque of the war, parties of the combatants being at times on ground so precipitous that it was difficult to maintain a footing. The Americans were gradually beaten back, and, notwithstanding the fact that a superior force was only a short distance away, they were compelled to surrender, those surrendered including all that had crossed the river, the majority of whom took no part in this last battle of the Heights. Ninety Americans were killed, about one hundred wounded, and over eight hundred became prisoners of war. The British lost less than one hundred and fifty men killed and wounded.
At the start of the war, both British and American officers thought that at least one decisive battle for control of the Lakes would take place somewhere along the Niagara frontier. As soon as Brock took care of civil and military issues in the West after Detroit fell, he quickly returned to this battleground. Meanwhile, the Americans had been getting ready to attack Queenston, close to Niagara Falls, using it as a launch point for their invasion of Canada. The British were well-entrenched on the Heights, but their199 forces were significantly outnumbered by Colonel Van Rensselaer's American troops. On the evening of October 12th, a dozen boats started ferrying soldiers across the river while Colonel Chrystie, leading three hundred men, and Colonels Stranahan, Mead, and Bloom were heading to Lewiston. Early on the morning of the 13th, the British opened fire, and in response, the Americans began climbing the Heights, pushing the enemy back as they advanced. At the time the Americans were crossing, Brock was at Fort George but quickly made his way to the battlefield. In a small marshy area at the base of the summit where the final confrontation happened—now marked by a small stone monument and overgrown with tall grass and weeds—he was struck by a bullet and fell, mortally wounded. This was a heavy blow to the British, but despite the tragedy, they bravely rallied their forces to retake the Heights. There were still about fifteen hundred Americans across the river, and if they managed to unite with Colonel Van Rensselaer, they would secure a position even more crucial than the British had at Detroit and Mackinac. With one thousand men, the British launched a fierce assault on the Heights, defended by no more than three hundred Americans who had crossed the river. The battle was one of the most intense and, at the same time, one of the most visually striking of the war, with combatants sometimes on such steep ground that it was hard to stay upright. The Americans were gradually pushed back, and despite the fact that a larger force was close by, they had to surrender, including all those who had crossed the river, most of whom had not participated in this final clash on the Heights. Ninety Americans were killed, about one hundred wounded, and over eight hundred were taken prisoner. The British lost fewer than one hundred and fifty men killed and wounded.

Thus far almost unbroken disaster had followed the American land forces in the Lake regions, much of which must be ascribed to the incompetence of commanding officers. Another fatal mistake was made a few weeks after the battle of Queenston Heights when, on November 28th, another invasion of Canada was attempted. Three thousand men under General Smyth were to comprise this expedition. At three o’clock in the morning, twenty-one boats left the American shore near Black Rock, but met with such a warm reception at the hands of the British that a number of the boats were compelled to fall back, and in the general excitement only a part of the force landed. Captain King, in command of one division, captured two batteries after a desperate struggle, spiked the guns, and with the assistance201 of Commander Angus and his men would have won a complete victory had not the latter, for some reason that has never been explained, retreated in his boats. As a consequence Captain King and a number of his men were captured, and thus a second attempt at a Canadian invasion fizzled out in complete disaster. This was practically the end of the campaign of the year 1812. There had been several minor naval events besides those which I have described and a few small operations on land, but all of them were unimportant.
So far, almost relentless disaster has followed the American land forces in the Lake regions, much of which can be attributed to the incompetence of the commanding officers. Another critical mistake occurred a few weeks after the battle of Queenston Heights when, on November 28th, another invasion of Canada was attempted. Three thousand troops under General Smyth were set to make up this expedition. At three o'clock in the morning, twenty-one boats left the American shore near Black Rock but were met with such a fierce response from the British that several boats had to turn back, and in the ensuing chaos, only part of the force managed to land. Captain King, in charge of one division, captured two batteries after a fierce fight, spiked the guns, and with the help of Commander Angus and his men would have achieved a complete victory had he not inexplicably retreated in his boats. As a result, Captain King and several of his men were captured, leading to another failed attempt at invading Canada that ended in total disaster. This effectively marked the end of the campaign for the year 1812. There had been several minor naval events alongside those I’ve described and a few small land operations, but all of them were insignificant.
The following year opened more auspiciously for the Americans, who were the first to begin active hostilities. On April 25th, Commodore Chauncey set sail with a squadron of fourteen vessels and seventeen hundred troops to attack York (Toronto). At this time York was poorly defended notwithstanding the fact that a 24-gun ship was almost completed in the harbour and an immense quantity of supplies were stored there. The Americans began disembarking early in the morning of the 27th, under the command of Brigadier-General Pike, while the armed schooners beat up to the fort and opened on it with their long guns. A strong wind forced the small boats, in which the troops were being carried, so close to the works that the landing instead of being made at a safe distance as had been planned was in the face of a galling fire. Despite this, General Pike assembled his men on the beach and began an immediate202 assault, the Canadians and English being driven from their works with heavy loss. In the moment of defeat, the garrison fired their powder magazine, and in the terrific explosion that followed, fifty-two of the victors were killed and one hundred and eighty wounded. Altogether the Americans lost seventy killed in both the land and naval forces, and the British one hundred and eighty killed and wounded and two hundred and ninety prisoners. The 24-gun ship was burned, and another vessel, the Gloucester, was added to the American fleet.
The following year began more positively for the Americans, who were the first to start active combat. On April 25th, Commodore Chauncey set out with a squadron of fourteen ships and seventeen hundred troops to attack York (Toronto). At that time, York was poorly defended despite the fact that a 24-gun ship was nearly finished in the harbor and a massive amount of supplies were stored there. The Americans began disembarking early on the morning of the 27th, led by Brigadier-General Pike, while the armed schooners moved in toward the fort and opened fire with their long guns. A strong wind pushed the small boats, carrying the troops, so close to the fortifications that the landing, instead of being made at a safe distance as planned, came under heavy fire. Despite this, General Pike rallied his men on the beach and launched an immediate assault, pushing the Canadians and British out of their positions with significant losses. In the moment of defeat, the garrison detonated their powder magazine, and in the horrific explosion that followed, fifty-two of the victors were killed and one hundred eighty wounded. In total, the Americans lost seventy men among both their land and naval forces, while the British suffered one hundred eighty killed and wounded, along with two hundred and ninety prisoners. The 24-gun ship was burned, and another vessel, the Gloucester, was added to the American fleet.
This victory was of tremendous importance to the Americans, and it was determined to at once follow it up by an attack on Fort George, where the British General Vincent was stationed with a force of over two thousand men, fifteen hundred of whom were regulars. On May 26th, Commodore Chauncey reconnoitred the enemy’s position and afterward held their interest while the Conquest and Tompkins destroyed a battery some distance down the lake. A part of General Vincent’s regulars attempted to prevent a landing at this point, but they were so terribly cut up by the short-range fire of the ships that they could offer but little opposition. So great was their loss that the British made little further effort to hold their position, blew up their fort, and retreated. Of the Americans, eighteen were killed and forty-seven wounded. The British203 loss was fifty-two killed, nearly three hundred wounded, and five hundred taken prisoners.
This victory was extremely important for the Americans, and they were eager to immediately follow it up with an attack on Fort George, where British General Vincent was stationed with over two thousand men, fifteen hundred of whom were regulars. On May 26th, Commodore Chauncey surveyed the enemy's position and then distracted them while the Conquest and Tompkins took out a battery a distance away on the lake. Some of General Vincent’s regulars tried to stop a landing at this point, but they were severely hit by the ships' short-range fire and could hardly resist. Their losses were so substantial that the British made little further effort to defend their position, blew up their fort, and retreated. The American casualties included eighteen killed and forty-seven wounded. The British lost fifty-two killed, nearly three hundred wounded, and five hundred taken prisoner.
This last blow lost the Niagara frontier to the British. General Vincent at once gave orders that Forts Chippewa and Erie and all public property as far down as Niagara Falls should be destroyed. The magazine at Fort Erie was fired, and a little later, Lieutenant-Colonel Preston, in command of the Americans at Black Rock, took possession of what remained of the stronghold, thus giving Perry an opportunity to get out of the Niagara River five of the vessels which were to play such an important part in the naval history of Lake Erie. Sacketts Harbour was now in much the same condition that York (Toronto) had been, and was even more poorly defended. The British planned to regain a part of their lost prestige by its capture, and on May 27th, Commodore Sir James Lucas Yeo sailed with a large fleet and a strong land force under Sir George Prevost to make the attack. On the 29th, eight hundred of the British regulars landed, but despite the astonishing inadequacy of the American garrison they were beaten back with a loss of fifty-two killed and two hundred and eleven wounded, while the Americans lost but twenty-three killed and one hundred and fourteen wounded. The British squadron returned to Kingston, and for several weeks thereafter co-operated with the army forces and made several unimportant naval captures while Chauncey awaited204 the completion of the new ship Pike. During July, General Dearborn was recalled from his command at Fort George because of the capture by the British of Lieutenant-Colonel Boerstler and seven hundred men, and during this same month Black Rock was captured by the enemy and recaptured by the Americans, but it was not until the 30th that an important blow was struck by either side. On this day the Americans again descended upon York, destroyed eleven transports, burned the barracks, and captured a considerable quantity of supplies and ammunition.
This final blow caused the British to take control of the Niagara frontier. General Vincent immediately ordered the destruction of Forts Chippewa and Erie and all public property as far down as Niagara Falls. The magazine at Fort Erie was ignited, and shortly after, Lieutenant-Colonel Preston, in charge of the Americans at Black Rock, took over what was left of the stronghold, allowing Perry to remove five vessels from the Niagara River that would become crucial in the naval history of Lake Erie. Sacketts Harbour was now in a similar situation to how York (Toronto) had been and was even less defended. The British aimed to recover some of their lost reputation by capturing it, and on May 27th, Commodore Sir James Lucas Yeo set sail with a large fleet and a strong land force under Sir George Prevost to launch the attack. On the 29th, eight hundred British regulars landed, but despite the surprising weakness of the American garrison, they were pushed back, suffering fifty-two killed and two hundred eleven wounded, while the Americans lost only twenty-three killed and one hundred fourteen wounded. The British squadron returned to Kingston, and for several weeks afterward, they worked with the army forces and made several minor naval captures while Chauncey waited for the completion of the new ship Pike. In July, General Dearborn was recalled from his command at Fort George due to the British capture of Lieutenant-Colonel Boerstler and seven hundred men. During this same month, Black Rock was captured by the enemy and then retaken by the Americans, but it wasn't until the 30th that either side dealt a significant blow. On that day, the Americans again attacked York, destroying eleven transports, burning the barracks, and seizing a large quantity of supplies and ammunition.
Both the Americans and the British were now looking for a decisive naval battle between Yeo and Chauncey upon Lake Ontario. The squadrons were quite evenly matched with the advantage, if any, in favour of the Americans. Both commanders watched for a favourable opportunity to attack, but not until the 11th of August was a gun fired. After an almost harmless long-distance cannonade between the fleets, the Julia and Growler, two of Chauncey’s vessels, became separated from the main squadron and were cut off and captured by Yeo. For a month, the two fleets were chasing or evading each other, and it was not until the 11th of September that they approached close enough for another engagement, which was only slight. These “chase-and-run tactics” continued until the 28th, when the squadrons came together again in York Bay. In the action that followed, Yeo’s ships were badly damaged and ran205 for protection into Burlington Bay. This victory, although not resulting in the capture of the British fleet, completely established Chauncey’s supremacy and for the remainder of the season Yeo remained at Kingston.
Both the Americans and the British were now looking for a decisive naval battle between Yeo and Chauncey on Lake Ontario. The squadrons were evenly matched, with a slight advantage, if any, for the Americans. Both commanders waited for a good opportunity to attack, but it wasn't until August 11 that a shot was fired. After a mostly ineffective long-range cannon exchange between the fleets, the Julia and Growler, two of Chauncey’s ships, got separated from the main squadron and were captured by Yeo. For a month, the two fleets chased or avoided each other, and it wasn't until September 11 that they got close enough for another engagement, which was minor. These “chase-and-run tactics” continued until the 28th, when the squadrons met again in York Bay. In the battle that followed, Yeo’s ships were heavily damaged and sought refuge in Burlington Bay. This victory, although it didn't lead to the capture of the British fleet, completely established Chauncey’s dominance, and for the rest of the season, Yeo stayed in Kingston.
For some months past, Captain Oliver Hazard Perry, acting under Commodore Chauncey, had been devoting his energies to the creating of a fleet on Lake Erie, and with such energy that on the memorable morning of September 10th, when from the masthead of the Lawrence at Put-in-Bay was seen the approaching squadron of Captain Robert Barclay, he had under his command nine vessels carrying a total of fifty-four guns and five hundred and thirty-two men. These vessels were the Lawrence, Niagara, Caledonia, Ariel, Scorpion, Somers, Porcupine, Tigress, and the Trippe. Barclay’s fleet was composed of the Detroit, Queen Charlotte, Lady Prevost, Hunter, Chippeway, and Little Belt, carrying a total of sixty-three guns and four hundred and forty men. It is interesting to note, according to Theodore Roosevelt’s Naval War of 1812, that notwithstanding the superior number of their guns the British ships were capable of throwing a broadside of only 459 pounds as against 936 pounds from the American squadron, a fact which shows the overwhelming superiority of Perry’s fleet and incidentally robs his victory of some of its glory.
For several months, Captain Oliver Hazard Perry, working under Commodore Chauncey, had been putting great effort into building a fleet on Lake Erie. By the significant morning of September 10th, when the approaching squadron of Captain Robert Barclay was spotted from the masthead of the Lawrence at Put-in-Bay, Perry commanded nine vessels armed with a total of fifty-four guns and five hundred thirty-two men. These vessels were the Lawrence, Niagara, Caledonia, Ariel, Scorpion, Somers, Porcupine, Tigress, and Trippe. Barclay’s fleet consisted of the Detroit, Queen Charlotte, Lady Prevost, Hunter, Chippeway, and Little Belt, which carried a total of sixty-three guns and four hundred forty men. It’s interesting to note, according to Theodore Roosevelt’s Naval War of 1812, that despite having more guns, the British ships could only deliver a broadside of 459 pounds compared to 936 pounds from the American squadron. This fact highlights the significant advantage of Perry’s fleet and somewhat diminishes the glory of his victory.
In my examination of the many and various206 accounts of the naval battle of Lake Erie, I have found that the most complete and authentic report is that of Mr. Roosevelt, who goes with minute detail into the preparation, comparative strength, and handling of the two squadrons, and inasmuch as this battle of Erie is one of the most thrilling episodes of our Inland Seas, I have secured the very kind permission of Mr. Roosevelt to use a part of his description of the actual contest. Soon after daylight, on September 10th, Perry got under way and advanced toward the enemy in battle form.
In my review of the numerous accounts of the naval battle of Lake Erie, I found that the most thorough and reliable report comes from Mr. Roosevelt, who provides detailed insights into the preparations, relative strength, and tactics of the two squadrons. Since this battle is one of the most exciting events in our Inland Seas, I have obtained Mr. Roosevelt's kind permission to use a portion of his description of the actual engagement. Shortly after dawn on September 10th, Perry set out and approached the enemy in formation for battle.

“As, amid light and rather baffling winds, the American squadron approached the enemy” [says Roosevelt], “Perry’s straggling line formed an angle of about fifteen degrees with the more compact one of his foes. At 11.45, the Detroit opened the action by a shot from her long 24, which fell short; at 11.50, she fired a second which went crashing through the Lawrence, and was replied to by the Scorpion’s long 32. At 11.55, the Lawrence, having shifted her port bow-chaser, opened with both the long 12’s, and at meridian began with her carronades, but the shot from the latter all fell short. At the same time, the action became general on both sides, though the rearmost American vessels were almost beyond the range of their own guns, and quite out of range of the guns of their antagonists. Meanwhile, the Lawrence was already suffering considerably as she bore down on the enemy. It was twenty minutes before she succeeded in getting within good carronade range, and during that time the action at the head of the line was between the long guns of the Chippeway and Detroit, throwing 123 pounds, and those of the Scorpion, Ariel, and Lawrence, throwing 104 pounds. As the enemy’s fire was directed almost207 exclusively at the Lawrence she suffered a great deal. The Caledonia, Niagara, and Somers were meanwhile engaging, at long range, the Hunter and Queen Charlotte, ... while from a distance the three other American gun-vessels engaged the Prevost and Little Belt. By 12.20 the Lawrence had worked down to close quarters, and at 12.30 the action was going on with great fury between her and her antagonists, within canister range. The raw and inexperienced American crews committed the same fault the British so often fell into on the ocean and overloaded their carronades. In consequence, that of the Scorpion upset down the hatchway in the middle of the action, and the sides of the Detroit were dotted with marks from shot that did not penetrate. One of the Ariel’s long 12’s also burst. Barclay fought the Detroit exceedingly well, her guns being most excellently aimed, though they actually had to be discharged by flashing pistols at the touchholes, so deficient was the ship’s equipment. Meanwhile, the Caledonia came down too, but the Niagara was wretchedly handled, Elliott keeping at a distance which prevented the use either of his carronades or of those of the Queen Charlotte, his antagonist; the latter, however, suffered greatly from the long guns of the opposing schooners, and lost her gallant commander, Captain Finnis, and first lieutenant, Mr. Stokes, who were killed early in the action; her next in command, Provincial Lieutenant Irvine, perceiving that he could do no good, passed the Hunter and joined in the attack on the Lawrence at close quarters. The Niagara, the most efficient and best-manned of the American vessels, was thus almost kept out of the action by her captain’s misconduct. At the end of the line the fight went on at long range between the Somers, Tigress, Porcupine, and Trippe on one side, and Little Belt and Lady Prevost on the other; the Lady Prevost making a very noble fight, although her 12-pound carronades rendered her208 almost helpless against the long guns of the Americans. She was greatly cut up, her commander, Lieutenant Buchan, was dangerously, and her acting first lieutenant, Mr. Roulette, severely wounded, and she began falling gradually to leeward.
“As the American squadron got closer to the enemy in light, tricky winds,” [Roosevelt says], “Perry’s scattered line created an angle of about fifteen degrees with the denser formation of his opponents. At 11:45, the Detroit fired the first shot from her long 24, but it fell short; at 11:50, she fired again and struck the Lawrence, which responded with fire from the Scorpion’s long 32. At 11:55, the Lawrence switched her port bow-chaser and opened fire with both long 12’s, and at noon began firing her carronades, although all those shots fell short. Around the same time, the battle grew fiercer on both sides, but the American vessels at the back were nearly out of reach of their guns and completely out of range of their enemies. Meanwhile, the Lawrence was already taking heavy damage as she approached the enemy. It took twenty minutes for her to come within effective range for her carronades, during which the long guns of the Chippeway and Detroit engaged, firing 123 pounds against the Scorpion, Ariel, and Lawrence, which fired 104 pounds. Since the enemy focused their fire almost entirely on the Lawrence, she was significantly damaged. The Caledonia, Niagara, and Somers were engaging at long range with the Hunter and Queen Charlotte, while three other American gun-vessels engaged the Prevost and Little Belt. By 12:20, the Lawrence had closed in, and by 12:30, intense fighting was happening between her and the enemy within canister range. The inexperienced American crews made the same mistake the British often did at sea—overloading their carronades. As a result, a carronade on the Scorpion malfunctioned during battle, leaving marks on the Detroit’s sides. One of the Ariel’s long 12’s also exploded. Barclay expertly commanded the Detroit, keeping her guns well aimed, though they had to be fired using lanyards at the touchholes due to poor ship equipment. Meanwhile, the Caledonia came down as well, but the Niagara was poorly managed, with Elliott maintaining his distance, which hindered the effectiveness of both his and the Queen Charlotte’s carronades; however, the latter suffered heavily from the long guns of the attacking schooners and lost her brave commander, Captain Finnis, and first lieutenant, Mr. Stokes, who were killed early in the battle. The next officer in command, Provincial Lieutenant Irvine, realizing he couldn't be effective, passed the Hunter and attacked the Lawrence at close range. The Niagara, being the most capable and best-manned of the American vessels, was almost sidelined due to her captain’s poor choices. At the end of the line, combat continued at long range between the Somers, Tigress, Porcupine, and Trippe on one side, and Little Belt and Lady Prevost on the other; the Lady Prevost fought bravely, but her 12-pound carronades left her nearly defenseless against the Americans' long guns. She sustained significant damage; her commander, Lieutenant Buchan, was critically wounded, and her acting first lieutenant, Mr. Roulette, received serious injuries, causing her to gradually fall back.”
“The fighting at the head of the line was fierce and bloody to an extraordinary degree. The Scorpion, Ariel, Lawrence, and Caledonia, all of them handled with the most determined courage, were opposed to the Chippeway, Detroit, Queen Charlotte, and Hunter, which were fought to the full as bravely. At such close quarters the two sides engaged on about equal terms, the Americans being superior in weight of metal, and inferior in number of men. But the Lawrence had received such damage in working down as to make the odds against Perry. On each side almost the whole fire was directed at the opposing large vessel or vessels; in consequence the Queen Charlotte was almost disabled, and the Detroit was frightfully shattered, especially by the raking fire of the gunboats, her first lieutenant, Mr. Garland, being mortally wounded, and Captain Barclay so seriously injured that he was obliged to quit the deck, leaving his ship in command of Lieutenant George Inglis. But on board the Lawrence matters had gone even worse, the combined fire of her adversaries having made the grimmest carnage on her decks. Of the 103 men who were fit for duty when the action began, 83, or over four fifths, were killed or wounded. The vessel was shallow, and the wardroom, used as a cockpit, to which the wounded were taken, was mostly above water, and the shot came through it continually, killing and wounding many men under the hands of the surgeon.
The fighting at the front lines was extremely intense and brutal. The Scorpion, Ariel, Lawrence, and Caledonia, all displaying incredible bravery, faced off against the Chippeway, Detroit, Queen Charlotte, and Hunter, who fought back just as valiantly. At such close quarters, both sides were nearly evenly matched, with the Americans having stronger firepower but fewer ships. However, the Lawrence had taken severe damage, putting Perry at a disadvantage. Most of the fire from both sides was directed at the larger enemy vessels; as a result, the Queen Charlotte was nearly incapacitated, and the Detroit was heavily damaged, particularly from the crossfire of the gunboats. Her first lieutenant, Mr. Garland, was mortally wounded, and Captain Barclay was so badly hurt that he had to leave the deck, passing command to Lieutenant George Inglis. On the Lawrence, things were even worse; the combined enemy fire inflicted horrific casualties on her deck. Of the 103 men ready for duty at the start of the battle, 83—over four-fifths—were killed or injured. The ship was shallow, and the wardroom, used as a makeshift hospital for the wounded, was mostly above water, with cannonballs continually coming through it, causing more injuries and deaths right in front of the surgeon's eyes.
“The first lieutenant, Yarnall, was three times wounded, but kept to the deck through all; the only other lieutenant on board, Brooks, of the marines, was mortally wounded. Every brace and bowline was shot away, and the brig almost209 completely dismantled; her hull was shattered to pieces, many shot going completely through it, and the guns on the engaged side were by degrees all dismounted. Perry kept up the fight with splendid courage. As the crew fell one by one, the commodore called down through the skylight for one of the surgeon’s assistants; and this call was repeated and obeyed till none were left; then he asked, ‘Can any of the wounded pull a rope?’ and three or four of them crawled up on deck to lend a feeble hand in placing the last guns. Perry himself fired the last effective heavy gun, assisted only by the purser and chaplain. A man who did not possess his indomitable spirit would have then struck. Instead, however, Perry determined to win by new methods, and remodelled the line accordingly, Mr. Turner, in the Caledonia, when ordered to close, had put his helm up, run down on the opposing line, and engaged at very short range, though the brig was absolutely without quarters. The Niagara had thus become next in line astern of the Lawrence, and the sloop Trippe, having passed the three schooners ahead of her, was next ahead. The Niagara now, having a breeze, steered ahead for the head of Barclay’s line, passing over a quarter of a mile to windward of the Lawrence, on her port beam. She was almost uninjured, having so far taken very little part in the combat, and to her Perry shifted his flag. Leaping into a rowboat, with his brother and four seamen, he rowed to the fresh brig, where he arrived at 2.30, and at once sent Elliott astern to hurry up the three schooners. The Trippe was now very near the Caledonia. The Lawrence, having but fourteen sound men left, struck her colors, but could not be taken possession of before the action recommenced. She drifted astern, the Caledonia passing between her and her foes. At 2.45, the schooners having closed up. Perry, in his fresh vessel, bore up to break Barclay’s line.
“The first lieutenant, Yarnall, was wounded three times but remained on deck; the only other lieutenant on board, Brooks, of the marines, was mortally wounded. Every brace and bowline was shot away, and the brig was nearly completely dismantled; her hull was shattered, with many shots going clean through it, and all the guns on the engaged side were gradually dismounted. Perry continued the fight with incredible bravery. As the crew fell one after another, the commodore called down through the skylight for one of the surgeon’s assistants; this call was repeated and answered until none were left; then he asked, ‘Can any of the wounded pull a rope?’ Three or four of them crawled up on deck to help weakly in positioning the last guns. Perry himself fired the last effective heavy gun, with only the purser and chaplain assisting him. A man without his unbreakable spirit would have given up then. However, Perry decided to win with new tactics and adjusted the line accordingly. Mr. Turner, on the Caledonia, when ordered to close, turned his helm, ran down on the opposing line, and engaged at very close range, even though the brig had no defenses left. The Niagara then became next in line behind the Lawrence, with the sloop Trippe having passed the three schooners ahead of her and now leading. The Niagara now, catching a breeze, steered towards the front of Barclay’s line, passing over a quarter of a mile to windward of the Lawrence, on her port side. She was almost unscathed, having been hardly involved in the fight, and to her Perry transferred his flag. Jumping into a rowboat with his brother and four seamen, he rowed to the new brig, arriving at 2:30, and immediately sent Elliott back to hurry up the three schooners. The Trippe was now very close to the Caledonia. The Lawrence, having just fourteen able men left, struck her colors but could not be secured before the battle restarted. She drifted back, with the Caledonia passing between her and the enemy. At 2:45, once the schooners had closed in, Perry, in his fresh vessel, moved to break Barclay’s line.”
“The British ships had fought themselves to a standstill.210 The Lady Prevost was crippled and sagged to leeward, though ahead of the others. The Detroit and Queen Charlotte were so disabled that they could not successfully oppose fresh antagonists. There could thus be but little resistance to Perry, as the Niagara stood down, and broke the British line, firing her port guns into the Chippeway, Little Belt, and Lady Prevost, and the starboard ones into the Detroit, Queen Charlotte, and Hunter, raking on both sides. Too disabled to tack, the Detroit and Charlotte tried to wear, the latter running up to leeward of the former; and, both vessels having every brace and almost every stay shot away, they fell foul. The Niagara luffed athwart their bows, within half pistol-shot, keeping up a terrific discharge of great guns and musketry, while on the other side the British vessels were raked by the Caledonia and the schooners so closely that some of their grape-shot, passing over the foe, rattled through Perry’s spars. Nothing further could be done, and Barclay’s flag was struck at 3 P.M. after three and a quarter hours’ most gallant fighting.”
“The British ships had fought themselves to a standstill.210 The Lady Prevost was damaged and leaning to one side, but ahead of the others. The Detroit and Queen Charlotte were so badly hurt that they couldn't effectively face new enemies. There was little resistance left for Perry as the Niagara moved in, breaking the British line and firing her left guns into the Chippeway, Little Belt, and Lady Prevost, and her right guns into the Detroit, Queen Charlotte, and Hunter, attacking on both sides. Too damaged to maneuver, the Detroit and Charlotte tried to turn, with the latter colliding with the former as they both had almost every brace and stay destroyed. The Niagara angled across their bows, within half pistol-shot, unleashing a devastating barrage of cannon and gunfire, while on the other side, the British ships were hit by the Caledonia and the schooners so closely that some of their grape-shot flew over the enemy and rattled through Perry’s masts. Nothing more could be done, and Barclay’s flag was struck at 3 P.M. after three and a quarter hours of incredibly brave fighting.”
In this conflict off Put-in-Bay, the American loss was twenty-seven killed and ninety-six wounded. Of these, twenty-two were killed and sixty-one wounded aboard the Lawrence. The British loss was forty-one killed and ninety-four wounded, the loss falling most heavily on the Detroit and Queen Charlotte.
In the battle near Put-in-Bay, the Americans lost twenty-seven killed and ninety-six wounded. Of these, twenty-two were killed and sixty-one were wounded on the Lawrence. The British lost forty-one killed and ninety-four wounded, with the majority of the losses occurring on the Detroit and Queen Charlotte.
Immediately after the battle, Perry wrote his famous dispatch to General Harrison: “We have met the enemy and they are ours; two ships, two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop”; and in a postscript he added, “Send us some soldiers to help211 take care of the prisoners, who are more numerous than ourselves.”
Immediately after the battle, Perry wrote his famous message to General Harrison: “We have met the enemy and they are ours; two ships, two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop”; and in a postscript he added, “Send us some soldiers to help211 take care of the prisoners, who are more numerous than we are.”
It is interesting to note what became of the vessels which played such an important part in this tragic drama of Lake Erie. The Lawrence, afterward repaired, was sunk in Misery Bay for preservation. Long afterward a part of her stem was raised and kept as a memorial. For years the Niagara was a training ship on Lake Erie, and was then sunk near the Lawrence. The Ariel, Little Belt, Chippeway, and Trippe were destroyed by the British at Buffalo. The Detroit was also sunk near the Lawrence, but in 1835, she was raised and rigged by a Captain Miles. She was afterwards purchased by a Niagara man, and as a spectacle for a crowd of curious people was allowed to break herself to pieces on the rocks above the Falls. The Queen Charlotte, Lady Prevost, and the Hunter were used in the Lake trade, and the Caledonia became the General Wayne. Both the Scorpion and the Tigress were recaptured by the British on Lake Huron.
It's interesting to see what happened to the ships that played such a crucial role in the tragic events of Lake Erie. The Lawrence, which was repaired later, was sunk in Misery Bay for preservation. Much later, part of her bow was raised and kept as a memorial. For years, the Niagara served as a training ship on Lake Erie before being sunk near the Lawrence. The Ariel, Little Belt, Chippeway, and Trippe were destroyed by the British in Buffalo. The Detroit was also sunk near the Lawrence, but in 1835, she was raised and rigged by Captain Miles. She was later bought by someone from Niagara and, as a spectacle for curious onlookers, was allowed to break apart on the rocks above the Falls. The Queen Charlotte, Lady Prevost, and Hunter were used in the Lake trade, while the Caledonia became the General Wayne. Both the Scorpion and the Tigress were recaptured by the British on Lake Huron.
The effects of Perry’s victory over Barclay’s squadron were immediate. The British at once gave up all hope of retaining their possessions on the Upper Lakes, and General Proctor began the evacuation of Forts Detroit and Malden. With all the boats that he could get into his possession he began a precipitate flight up the river Thames, where he was joined by the Indian chief Tecumseh and his212 warriors. Encouraged by this reinforcement he determined to select his own position for giving battle to the Americans, who were hurrying across country from Amherstburg under the command of General Harrison. Meanwhile, a number of the smaller American war vessels made their way up the Thames and Proctor prepared to meet them with his own armed boats. Harrison’s force, which outnumbered Proctor two to one, came up to the enemy close to the river, and the fierce charge of Colonel Johnson and his Kentucky horsemen almost immediately broke the enemy’s line. After a desperate struggle the regulars surrendered, but Tecumseh, who had from one thousand to two thousand warriors, continued to fight until he fell mortally wounded, when his braves broke and fled. The armed boats in the river were destroyed to keep them from falling into the hands of the Americans. Only a few years ago, two of these were discovered and raised. An accompanying illustration shows one of these vessels just after it was brought above the water, with a heap of old cannon balls amidships.
The impact of Perry’s win over Barclay’s squadron was immediate. The British quickly lost all hope of keeping their hold on the Upper Lakes, and General Proctor started evacuating Forts Detroit and Malden. He gathered all the boats he could find and made a hasty retreat up the Thames River, where he was joined by the Indian chief Tecumseh and his212 warriors. Boosted by this reinforcements, he decided to pick his own spot to confront the Americans, who were rushing across the country from Amherstburg under General Harrison's command. Meanwhile, several smaller American war vessels made their way up the Thames, and Proctor readied to face them with his own armed boats. Harrison’s forces, which outnumbered Proctor two to one, closed in on the enemy near the river, and the fierce charge from Colonel Johnson and his Kentucky cavalry quickly broke the enemy’s line. After a desperate fight, the regulars surrendered, but Tecumseh, with one thousand to two thousand warriors, kept fighting until he was mortally wounded, causing his men to break and flee. The armed boats in the river were destroyed to prevent them from being captured by the Americans. Just a few years ago, two of these boats were found and raised. An accompanying illustration shows one of these vessels right after it was brought to the surface, with a pile of old cannonballs in the middle.

Perry’s victory and Harrison’s defeat of the British virtually decided the war along the Lakes, although, during the following winter, the British prepared to make one more tremendous effort to regain a part of the supremacy they had lost. This effort was to be made on Lake Ontario. During the whole of the winter of 1813–14, both Yeo and Chauncey213 strained every resource to prepare themselves for this final conflict, and it was during this time that the largest ships of war that ever floated on the Lakes were built, among them being the American ship Superior, to carry sixty-two guns, and the British ships Prince Regent, fifty-eight, and the Princess Charlotte, forty-two. The two fleets were pretty evenly matched, each squadron having eight ships, but with the Americans leading in tonnage, number of men, and guns. Yeo, however, was prepared for battle earlier than Chauncey, and taking advantage of this he prepared to attack Oswego, which was garrisoned by less than three hundred men and was in a wretched state of defence. On the 3d of May he set sail, having on board his squadron a detachment of over a thousand troops. The fire of the fort was drawn on the fifth, but it was not until the following day that the battle began in earnest, when five of the British warships began a terrific bombardment under cover of which eight hundred troops and two hundred seamen were landed. The little garrison fought with desperate valour and when they were finally driven from their position the British had lost ninety-five men, a number a third as great as the American force opposed to them. The Americans lost six men killed and thirty-eight wounded, the remainder escaping to the Falls.
Perry’s victory and Harrison’s defeat of the British pretty much decided the war on the Lakes. However, during the following winter, the British got ready to make one last massive effort to reclaim some of the power they had lost. This move was centered on Lake Ontario. Throughout the winter of 1813–14, both Yeo and Chauncey213 pushed all their resources to prepare for this final showdown. It was during this time that the largest warships ever built on the Lakes were constructed, including the American ship Superior, which carried sixty-two guns, as well as the British ships Prince Regent with fifty-eight guns, and Princess Charlotte with forty-two. The two fleets were fairly evenly matched, each having eight ships, but the Americans had an edge in tonnage, manpower, and firepower. Yeo, however, was ready for battle before Chauncey, and taking advantage of this, he planned to strike Oswego, which was defended by less than three hundred men and in a terrible state of readiness. On May 3rd, he set sail with over a thousand troops on board. The fort opened fire on the fifth, but it wasn’t until the next day that the serious battle began, when five British warships launched a fierce bombardment. Under this cover, eight hundred troops and two hundred sailors were landed. The small garrison fought valiantly, but when they were finally pushed out, the British lost ninety-five men, about a third of the American force they faced. The Americans, on the other hand, lost six men killed and thirty-eight wounded, with the rest making it to the Falls.
On May 19th, Yeo transferred his operations to Sacketts Harbour, where he began a strict blockade,214 much to the discomfiture of Chauncey, who still lacked important material for the completion of the Superior. It was while attempting to capture several small boats with a part of this material that two British gunboats, three cutters, and a gig, carrying several heavy guns and one hundred and eighty men, started up Sandy Creek on the thirtieth, and ran into an ambush laid by Major Appling and one hundred and twenty American riflemen. In the terrific volleys that followed, the British suffered heavily, eighteen of their number being almost immediately killed and fifty wounded. The entire force was captured with a loss on the American side of but one wounded. On June 6th, Commodore Yeo raised his blockade and from then until July 31st, when Chauncey brought out his squadron, nothing of importance was accomplished with the exception of two or three successful cutting-out expeditions on the part of the Americans. Even after this date, until the close of navigation, the two fleets acted merely in the capacity of watch-dogs, neither daring to attack the other. During the greater part of this period, Yeo was penned up in Kingston, while Chauncey, whose superior force would have made his co-operation of tremendous value to the land forces under General Brown, peremptorily refused this assistance, saying that his object was the destruction of the enemy’s fleet and not to “become a subordinate or appendage of the army.” On the other hand, he could not get215 Yeo to fight, so that his powerful force remained practically useless.
On May 19th, Yeo moved his operations to Sacketts Harbour, where he set up a strict blockade,214 which frustrated Chauncey, who still needed key supplies to finish the Superior. While trying to capture several small boats carrying some of these supplies, two British gunboats, three cutters, and a gig with several heavy guns and one hundred eighty men entered Sandy Creek on the thirtieth and fell into an ambush set by Major Appling and one hundred twenty American riflemen. In the fierce exchanges that followed, the British suffered severely, with eighteen of them killed almost immediately and fifty wounded. The entire force was captured, with only one American wounded. On June 6th, Commodore Yeo lifted his blockade, and from then until July 31st, when Chauncey brought out his squadron, not much of significance happened aside from two or three successful cutting-out missions by the Americans. Even after that date, until the end of navigation, the two fleets acted only as watch-dogs, neither daring to attack the other. For most of this time, Yeo was confined in Kingston, while Chauncey, whose superior numbers would have been extremely valuable to General Brown's land forces, stubbornly refused to assist, insisting that his goal was to destroy the enemy’s fleet, not to “become a subordinate or appendage of the army.” On the flip side, he couldn’t get215 Yeo to engage, leaving his powerful fleet effectively useless.
Meanwhile General Brown undertook his contemplated invasion of Canada, sending Generals Scott and Ripley to the attack of Fort Erie, which soon surrendered. A few days later, on July 5th, General Riall with a force of nearly 2000 British met the Americans near Chippewa, and one of the fiercest and most important battles of the war was the result. Notwithstanding the superior numbers of the enemy, the victory fell to the Americans, whose loss was 61 killed and 255 wounded as against 236 killed and 322 wounded on the British side. It was at this critical moment, when a successful and complete invasion of Canada might have been made, that General Brown wrote to Chauncey asking for his co-operation. Soon after this, General Riall was reinforced by 800 men under Sir George Gordon Drummond, and on the 25th of July, General Scott was sent against them with a force of 1200 men.
Meanwhile, General Brown moved ahead with his planned invasion of Canada, sending Generals Scott and Ripley to attack Fort Erie, which quickly surrendered. A few days later, on July 5th, General Riall with a force of nearly 2000 British troops encountered the Americans near Chippewa, leading to one of the fiercest and most significant battles of the war. Despite being outnumbered, the Americans emerged victorious, suffering 61 killed and 255 wounded compared to the British losses of 236 killed and 322 wounded. At this crucial moment, when a successful and complete invasion of Canada could have been achieved, General Brown wrote to Chauncey seeking his support. Shortly after, General Riall received reinforcements of 800 men led by Sir George Gordon Drummond, and on July 25th, General Scott was sent against them with a force of 1200 men.
Scott was unaware of the full strength of the enemy until he found Riall and Drummond drawn up to meet him at Lundy’s Lane. This was at five o’clock in the afternoon, and with the idea of impressing upon the British that the entire American army was at his back, General Scott at once began the attack. The struggle was one of intense courage on both sides and continued until 10.30 at night, when the British were driven from the field, leaving216 General Riall a prisoner. The American loss had also been so severe that they retired from the field, abandoning a captured battery. During the night, this battery was again manned by the British and a bloody fight ensued the following morning before it was recaptured. At Lundy’s Lane, the Americans lost 171 killed and 571 wounded; the British 84 killed and 559 wounded. General Scott had been severely wounded in the struggle, and General Brown was laid up with injuries at Back Rock, so that the command fell upon General Ripley who at once made preparations to recross into the American frontier. Brown sent positive orders that this move should not be made and that General Ripley should hold Fort Erie. On August 2d, General Drummond, who had been reinforced by over 1000 men, laid siege to this stronghold, and for two weeks desultory fighting occurred around it. On the night of the 14th, at twelve o’clock, a terrific assault was begun upon the works and continued until daylight. The British had captured one of the bastions and it was while holding this position that a fearful explosion occurred directly under their feet, killing and wounding the greater portion of them and striking the decisive blow of the siege. The American loss was 17 killed and 56 wounded, while the British lost 221 killed and 174 wounded.
Scott didn't realize how strong the enemy was until he discovered Riall and Drummond ready to confront him at Lundy’s Lane. This happened at five o’clock in the afternoon, and to make the British think that the entire American army was behind him, General Scott immediately launched the attack. The battle was marked by incredible bravery on both sides and went on until 10:30 at night, when the British were pushed off the battlefield, leaving 216 General Riall as a prisoner. The American casualties were also significant, forcing them to withdraw from the field and abandon a captured battery. During the night, the British reclaimed this battery, leading to a fierce fight the following morning before it was retaken. At Lundy’s Lane, the Americans suffered 171 killed and 571 wounded; the British had 84 killed and 559 wounded. General Scott was seriously injured in the clash, and General Brown was incapacitated with injuries at Back Rock, so command shifted to General Ripley, who promptly started making plans to cross back into American territory. Brown issued clear orders against this move, directing General Ripley to hold Fort Erie. On August 2nd, General Drummond, having received reinforcements of over 1000 men, laid siege to this stronghold, resulting in two weeks of sporadic fighting around it. On the night of the 14th, at midnight, a massive assault began on the fortifications and lasted until dawn. The British managed to capture one of the bastions, but while they held this position, a devastating explosion occurred right beneath them, killing and injuring many and hitting the siege hard. The American side had 17 killed and 56 wounded, while the British faced 221 killed and 174 wounded.

For several weeks, both sides continued to strengthen their positions, and by the middle of September,217 5000 Americans under Generals Brown and Porter were ready for an attack on the British. On the 17th, Riall was engaged by the entire American force and was driven from the position he had taken, with a loss of about 500 in killed and wounded. Meanwhile, General Izard’s division was hurrying to the frontier and with his arrival the American force was increased to 8000. Riall and Drummond in the face of these overwhelming odds retreated to Fort George and Burlington Heights, and on November 4th, Fort Erie was blown up, General Izard believing that it would be of no further use to the Americans. Active operations along the frontier then ceased for the winter.
For several weeks, both sides kept strengthening their positions, and by mid-September,217 5,000 Americans led by Generals Brown and Porter were ready to launch an attack on the British. On the 17th, Riall faced the entire American force and was pushed back from his position, suffering around 500 casualties in killed and wounded. Meanwhile, General Izard's division was rushing to the front, and with his arrival, the American force grew to 8,000. Facing these overwhelming odds, Riall and Drummond retreated to Fort George and Burlington Heights, and on November 4th, Fort Erie was blown up, as General Izard believed it would no longer be useful to the Americans. Active operations along the frontier then stopped for the winter.
During this breaking of British power along the Niagara frontier, there had occurred one or two interesting events on the Upper Lakes. Now that the British had lost their fleet on Erie, and that they had become almost fugitives from the American forces, those that remained of them seemed endowed with almost superhuman courage and ability. Captain Sinclair had sailed up into Lake Huron with the Niagara, Caledonia, Ariel, Scorpion, and Tigress, and had burnt the fort and barracks of St. Joseph, when the first of these exploits occurred. On August 4th, Sinclair had made an unsuccessful attack on Fort Michilimackinac (Mackinac), had burned a blockhouse, and then departed for Lake Erie, leaving the Scorpion and Tigress on Lake Huron. On the218 3d of September, four small boats filled with British made an attack on the Tigress under cover of darkness, and after a brief hand-to-hand struggle captured her. The commander of the Scorpion had no knowledge of this attack, and on the 5th, he innocently ran within a couple of miles of the Tigress, which was still flying the American flag. Early the following morning, the Tigress ran close up to the Scorpion, cleared her deck with a volley of musketry, and captured her without resistance being made. Meanwhile on the night of August 12th, a daring British expedition in small boats captured the armed schooners Somers and Ohio, with another armed ship, the Porcupine, lying near. In this exploit, seventy British seamen in small boats had captured two well-armed vessels carrying ninety men and with a strong sistership a few cable-lengths away, an achievement which has few rivals in naval history.
During the decline of British power along the Niagara frontier, a couple of notable events took place on the Upper Lakes. With the British losing their fleet on Lake Erie and becoming nearly fugitives from American forces, those who remained showed an almost superhuman level of courage and skill. Captain Sinclair had sailed into Lake Huron with the Niagara, Caledonia, Ariel, Scorpion, and Tigress, and he torched the fort and barracks at St. Joseph during one of these operations. On August 4th, Sinclair attempted an unsuccessful attack on Fort Michilimackinac (Mackinac), burned a blockhouse, and then headed for Lake Erie, leaving the Scorpion and Tigress behind on Lake Huron. On September 3rd, four small boats filled with British soldiers launched a surprise attack on the Tigress under the cover of darkness, and after a brief hand-to-hand struggle, they captured her. The commander of the Scorpion was unaware of this attack, and on the 5th, he unknowingly sailed within a couple of miles of the Tigress, which was still displaying the American flag. Early the next morning, the Tigress approached the Scorpion, cleared her deck with a volley of musket fire, and seized her without resistance. Meanwhile, on the night of August 12th, a bold British operation in small boats captured the armed schooners Somers and Ohio, along with another armed vessel, the Porcupine, anchored nearby. In this operation, seventy British sailors in small boats managed to capture two well-armed vessels carrying ninety men, with a strong sister ship just a few cable lengths away—an accomplishment with few equals in naval history.
But these latter events, brilliant though they were, were of but slight importance. The British were defeated and broken from end to end of the Lakes, and peace was at hand. On December 24, 1814, fifteen days before the battle of New Orleans, peace was declared at Ghent, and with the signing of the treaty the sanguinary history of the Lakes, a story that had covered more than two centuries of ceaseless war and bloodshed, was at an end. From this time on, their history was to be one of colonization and commerce.
But these recent events, impressive as they were, didn’t really matter much. The British were beaten and pushed out completely from the Lakes, and peace was coming. On December 24, 1814, fifteen days before the battle of New Orleans, peace was announced in Ghent, and with the signing of the treaty, the bloody history of the Lakes, a tale that had spanned over two centuries of endless war and violence, was finally over. From this point forward, their history would focus on colonization and trade.
219 For a number of years previous to the War of 1812, there had been a growing tendency on the part of the people of the East to emigrate into the West, but the unsettled conditions of the whole Lake region, threatened by Indian war and the bloody feuds of rival trading-companies, held the bulk of the pioneers along Lake Ontario. Now the floodgates burst loose. Thousands of settlers hurried into Ohio, and others pushed on through the wilderness into Michigan. In 1818, the Walk-in-the-Water, the first steamer to float upon the Upper Lakes, was launched in Lake Erie, and began making trips from Buffalo to Detroit, charging eighteen dollars per passenger for the journey. Other vessels engaged in the passenger trade and emigrants were enabled to travel entirely by water. By 1820, Ohio possessed a population of over half a million. Nineteen out of twenty of the west-bound pioneers stopped somewhere along the shores of Lake Erie, and at this date Michigan’s population was less than nine thousand. But with the coming of other steamers, not only Michigan, but Illinois and Wisconsin began to receive a part of the westward-flowing tide. The Erie Canal had been opened as early as 1825, and the rapidity of the growth of commerce on the Inland Seas may be judged by the fact that in 1836 more than three thousand canal-boats were employed upon it, a large part of their traffic being the transportation of emigrants and their effects to the larger vessels on220 Lake Erie. During this year, there were ninety steamboat arrivals at Detroit, and one of these vessels, the United States, carried as high as seven hundred emigrants on a single trip. From that day to this, the ships of the Great Lakes have never been able to more than keep pace with the demands of trade. In 1836, vessel-men earned as high as eighty per cent. on the cost of their vessels. To-day they are still earning thirty.
219 For several years leading up to the War of 1812, more and more people from the East were looking to move West, but the unstable situation in the entire Lake region, threatened by conflicts with Native Americans and violent rivalries between trading companies, kept many pioneers along Lake Ontario. Then everything changed. Thousands of settlers rushed into Ohio, and others ventured through the wilderness into Michigan. In 1818, the Walk-in-the-Water, the first steamboat to navigate the Upper Lakes, was launched in Lake Erie and began running trips from Buffalo to Detroit, charging eighteen dollars per passenger. Other boats joined the passenger trade, allowing immigrants to travel entirely by water. By 1820, Ohio had a population of over half a million. Nineteen out of twenty of the westward-bound pioneers stopped somewhere along the shores of Lake Erie, and during that time, Michigan had a population of less than nine thousand. However, with the arrival of more steamboats, not just Michigan, but also Illinois and Wisconsin began to experience the westward movement. The Erie Canal opened as early as 1825, and the rapid growth of commerce on the Inland Seas can be seen in the fact that by 1836, more than three thousand canal boats were in use, with a significant portion of their cargo being immigrants and their belongings transported to larger vessels on 220 Lake Erie. That year, there were ninety steamboat arrivals in Detroit, and one of those ships, the United States, carried as many as seven hundred immigrants on a single voyage. Since then, the ships on the Great Lakes have never been able to keep up with the demands of trade. In 1836, shipowners made as much as eighty percent profit on their vessels. Today, they still make thirty percent.
Beginning with 1839, the emigrant travel to Chicago was so great that a line of eight vessels engaged in this traffic alone, each vessel making the trip once in sixteen days. It was now impossible to build ships fast enough to keep pace with the developing commerce. During the ten years between 1830 and 1840, the population of Michigan increased from 31,000 to 212,000, and practically the whole of it came by lake. In 1840, Wisconsin’s population was less than 31,000; ten years later, it was 305,000. By 1846, the value of the commerce of the Lakes was already enormous. Its value for that year is estimated to have been over eighty millions of dollars. In 1835, the American Fur Company built the John Jacob Astor, the first large ship to sail Lake Superior, and the trade in copper began soon after. With the discovery of the rich mineral deposits, hundreds of prospectors began flocking into the North, men with capital hurried to the regions of the red metal, and, in the race after wealth, vessel-men did not wait221 to build ships on Superior but hauled their vessels bodily across the mile portage at Sault Ste. Marie. In 1855 was built the Falls Canal, and from that date, the commerce of Superior became an important factor in the traffic of the Lakes. All that was needed to make it the most important body of fresh water on the globe was the discovery of iron. This discovery, and the part that iron has played in the making of our nation, have been described in preceding pages.
Starting in 1839, the number of emigrants traveling to Chicago was so high that a fleet of eight ships was dedicated solely to this route, with each ship making the trip once every sixteen days. It became impossible to build ships quickly enough to keep up with the booming commerce. Between 1830 and 1840, Michigan's population grew from 31,000 to 212,000, with nearly all of that migration occurring by lake. In 1840, Wisconsin's population was under 31,000; by 1850, it had risen to 305,000. By 1846, the value of trade on the Great Lakes was already massive, estimated to exceed eighty million dollars that year. In 1835, the American Fur Company launched the John Jacob Astor, the first large ship to navigate Lake Superior, soon after which the copper trade began. With the discovery of valuable mineral deposits, hundreds of prospectors rushed into the North, and investors quickly headed to the areas rich in copper. In the quest for wealth, shipbuilders did not wait to construct ships in Superior; instead, they transported their vessels overland across the one-mile portage at Sault Ste. Marie. In 1855, the Falls Canal was built, and from that point on, trade on Lake Superior became a significant part of Great Lakes traffic. All that was needed to establish it as the most crucial body of freshwater in the world was the discovery of iron. This discovery, along with iron's role in shaping our nation, has been discussed in previous sections.221

(Larger)
INDEX
- A
- Aborigines, warlike, of the early history of the Lakes, 163
- Adams, Mayor, of Buffalo, 127
- Aillon, Father Joseph de la Roche d’, mission formed by, 168
- Algonquin, a tribe of Indians, 164
- Alpena, the, of Lake Michigan, 102
- American Fur Company, the, 220
- American Shipbuilding Company, the, 15, 16
- Argosy, the huge, of the Lakes, 26
- Ariel, the battle-ship, 217
- Assiniboines, the, of Minnesota, 176
- Astor, John Jacob, 220
- Atlanta, the loss of the, 102
- Atlantic, loss of, with valuable cargo, 110
- B
- Bannockburn, the mystery of the, 103
- Barre, Governor De la, of Canada, 177
- Beauharnois, Governor, of Canada, 1727, 180
- Beaver Island, 88
- Belle Isle, a great pleasure ground, 85
- B. F. Jones, the cargo of, 60
- “Bread Basket of the World,” the future, 60
- Brock, General, the death of, 84
- Brule, Stephen, discovers Lake Superior, 166
- Buffalo, shipyards at, 10
- Burnett, Governor, of New York, 180
- C
- Cabins on a freighter, 138
- Calbick, James A., President of the Lumber Carriers’ Association, 51
- Caledonia, the capture of, 198
- Canada, the fertile regions of western, 63
- Canadian Niagara Falls Company, the, 133
- Canals, the, at Sault Ste. Marie, 27
- Cargoes of the Great Lakes, 1
- Caron, Joseph Le, discovers Lake Ontario, 166
- “Carriers,” the, of the Great Lakes, 24
- Cayuga Indians, the, 165
- Cheapness of travel on the Lakes, 75
- Chicago, shipyards at, 10
- Chicora, the passenger steamer, 42
- “City of the Five Great Lakes,” the, 48
- City of St. Ignace, the, a passenger steamer, 74
- Cleveland, shipyards at, 10
- Cliff stamp mill, the, 32
- Coal, immense amount consumed, 27
- Cole, Thomas F., President of the Oliver Mining Company, 32
- Collisions, danger of, 94
- Commerce, the, on the Lakes, 11, 49
- Construction of a Lake ship, 23
- Cordurus, the freighter, 100
- Coulby, Harry, President of the Pittsburg Steamship Company, 12
- Cruise of a Lonely Heart, The, 93
- Cuyler, Lieutenant, defeat of, 187
- D
- Dacotah, the loss of the, 104
- Dakotas, the powerful tribe of the, 164
- Daumont, Simon Francis, takes possession of the Lakes, 175
- Davidson, James, mentioned, 40
- Dean Richmond, the treasure ship, 108224
- Deluth, Daniel, a fort erected by, 1761, 176
- Denonville, Marquis, 178
- Detroit, shipyards at, 10;
- great industry at, 15;
- tonnage passing, 27;
- the defence of, 188
- Detroit Journal, the, 42
- Detroit River, the, 27
- Detroit Shipbuilding Company, the, 17
- Detroit Tribune, the, 42
- Development, the, of the region, 6
- Devil’s Hole, the massacre at, 189
- Dining-room on a freighter, 144
- Dividends on an investment in a Lake freighter, 61
- Douglas, G. L., 14
- Duluth, the “highway” to, 3;
- the great future of, 123
- E
- Earle, Commodore, on Lake Ontario, 195
- Earling, the loading of the, 43
- Early history of the Lakes, 159 ff.
- Electrical Development Company, the, 133
- Elevators, the building of, 63
- Elliott, Commander Jesse D., 197
- Elwood, H. C., of the Chamber of Commerce in Buffalo, 116
- English, settlements of the olden time on the Lakes, 177;
- traders, 179
- Erie Basin, the, 131
- Erie Canal, transportation on, 7;
- the widening of, 63;
- the new era for, 132
- Escarpments, the worn, of the Lakes, 162
- Extent of the ore deposits, 36
- F
- Five Nations, the Indian tribes known as the, 165
- Flagg, a cargo of copper on the, 66
- Flour, amount carried on the Lakes, 50
- Flying Dutchman, the, of the Lakes, 103
- Food, the various kinds of, on a freighter, 153
- Forests of Minnesota, the, 53
- Fort Niagara, the remains of, 84
- Foxes, the extermination of the, 165
- Freight, amount of, on the Great Lakes, 25
- Freighters, the largest fleet of, iii;
- the luxuriance of the, 20
- Fresh-water seas, iii
- Frontenac, Fort, built, 1673, 170;
- taken by English, 1758, 182
- “Frozen Ship,” the mystery of the, 111
- Fuel, the loading of, 65
- Fur trade, the increase of the, 194
- G
- George W. Perkins, the record of the, 45
- Georgian Bay, a trip past, 86
- Gilcher, the loss of the, 102
- Gilchrist, J. C., the head of the Gilchrist Transportation Company, 13
- Glacial Age, the, in North America, 162
- Gladwin, Major, defends Fort Detroit, 186
- G. P. Griffin, the burning of the, 105
- “Grain Age,” the beginning of the, 63
- “Grand Army,” the, of the Lakes, 52
- Great Lakes, the (see Inland Seas)
- Griffin, the, 84;
- the romantic loss of, 111;
- the history of the, 171 ff.
- “Groves” as pleasure resorts, 81
- “Guests’ quarters,” the, on a freighter, 139
- H
- Harry Berwind, a private room on the, 139
- Hatch-bag, playing of, 150
- Hazard, Captain Oliver, 205
- Hudson, the loss of the, 102
- Hull, General, invades Canada, 195;
- cowardice of, 196
- Huron, Lake, a trip up, 3
- I
- Ice Age, the waning of the, 162
- “Ice devils,” the damage done by, 99
- Indian canoes, fleets of, 165225
- Industrial supremacy, 5
- Inland Seas, the, commercial life of, iv;
- the leviathans of, 3;
- the spirit of, 4;
- normal condition, 7;
- shipbuilding on, 11;
- the wonders of, 12;
- fortune-making on, 18;
- cargoes on, 26;
- commerce of, 48;
- death of the lumber fleets of, 52;
- cheap transportation on, 62;
- transportation of copper on, 66;
- passenger traffic on, 68;
- summer life, 68 ff.;
- Admiral Dewey visits, 73;
- marine tragedies of, 77;
- the spring rush on, 89;
- dangers of navigation, 91;
- danger of ice, 96;
- mysteries of, 103;
- struggle for supremacy of, 117;
- greatest ship on the, 137;
- early history of, 159 ff.;
- missions established on, 169;
- change of masters, 175;
- England supreme, 183;
- peace on, 193;
- naval battle of Lake Erie, 206
- “Inner life,” the, of a great freighter, 137
- Iron, the prominence of, 28
- Iron ore, the transportation of, 8
- Ironsides, the steamer, 104
- Iroquois, the, of Lake Ontario, 165
- J
- Jackson, Captain James, the heroism of, 95
- Jesuits, the missions established by the, 169
- K
- Kent, the wreck of the, 109
- King Strang, the Mormon, 88
- L
- Lackawanna Iron and Steel Company, the, 125
- Lady Elgin, the sinking of the, 104
- Lake Carriers’ Association, the, 46
- Lakeside inns, life at the, 82
- Laurentian River, the, 161
- Lawrence, the attack on the, 207
- Lexington, lost with a cargo of whisky, 110
- Life of the Great Lakes, iii
- Little Venice, mentioned, 85
- Livingston, William, President of the Lake Carriers’ Association, 40, 46
- Lorain, shipyards at, 10
- Loyalty, the, of the Indians, 183
- Lumber Carriers’ Association, the, 50
- Lumber industry, the extinction of, 52
- M
- Mackinaw Island, 78
- Maid of the Mist, the, 83
- Manitou Island, a wreck near, 110
- Manitowoc, shipyards at, 10
- Mapleson Opera Company, the, 42
- Mason, F. Howard, 126
- Mataafa, the steel ship, 105
- Matchedash Bay, 166
- McKenzie, Captain, peculiar situation of, 100
- Mesaba, the, as a wilderness, 34
- Mesaba range, the richness of the, 40
- Mess-room, the, on a freighter, 154
- Mexican mahogany woodwork, 73
- Miami Indians, the, 197
- Michilimackinac, the fort at, 176;
- the destruction of the garrison at, 185
- Mines, the working of, 37
- Mitchell, Captain John, 14
- Mohawks, the, 165
- Montreal, the fall of, 1760, 183
- N
- Nashua, the disappearance of, 102
- Neuters, a tribe of Indians, 165
- New York Steel Company, the, 125
- Niagara Falls, money expended above, 9
- Niagara Falls Hydraulic Power and Manufacturing Company, 133
- Niagara Falls Power Company, the, 133
- Nicolet, Jean, 167
- North Tonawanda, the growth of, 130
- O
- “Observation room,” the, of a freighter, 142
- Ohio River, the country north of, 8
- Ojibwas, the, 164
- Oliver Mining Company, the, 32
- Oneida Indians, the, 165226
- Onondaga Indians, the, 165
- Ontario, the battle-ship, 192
- Ontario Power Company, the, 134
- Ore beds, the, of Minnesota, 4
- Ore docks, the, at Duluth, 43
- Origin, the, of the Great Lakes, 161 ff.
- Ostrich, the resting place of the, 110
- Oswego, a trading-post at, 180
- Ottawas, the tribe of the, 164
- Owners, the ship, 1
- P
- Palatinate, the War of the, 179
- Passenger steamers, the, 69
- Passenger traffic, the, 68 ff.
- Pay-rolls, the, of Buffalo, 126
- Perry, Commodore, the victory of, 211
- Pessano, Antonio C., 15
- Pewabic, the, in Thunder Bay, 106;
- the finding of, 109
- Phœnix mine, an accident in the, 32
- Pike, Brigadier-General, 201
- Pilot-house, the, on a Lake steamer, 149
- Pine wood, the total amount from Michigan, 57
- “Pittsburg of the North,” the, 124. (See Duluth)
- Pittsburg Steamship Company, the, 12
- “Plate department,” the, of a shipyard, 22
- Point Pelee, the battle of, 187
- Pontiac, the Indian chief, 85
- Port Arthur, the shipping of, 62
- Porter, Moses, 193
- Pottawatomies, a tribe of Indians, 164
- Purre, Don Eugenio, departure of, 192
- Put-in-Bay, historical events at, 84;
- the great naval battle of, 210
- Q
- Queen Anne’s War, 180
- Queen of the West, the loss of the, 99 ff.
- Queenston, the attack on, 198
- Queenston Heights, the battle of, 84
- R
- Richardson, W. C., 40
- Riveting machines, the, 24
- Roberts, Captain, at St. Joseph, 195
- Rocky River, the change of position of, 191
- Romans of the Wilderness, the, 180
- Roosevelt, President Theodore, account by, 206
- Ruggles’ Grove, overlooking the Lake, 79
- S
- Sacketts Harbour, operations at, 213
- Sacs, a tribe of Indians, 165
- Sailors on the Lakes, 1
- Sandusky, Port, the capture of, 184
- Sault Ste. Marie canals, the, 27
- Savages, the first, near the Lakes, 164
- Schantz, A. A., General Manager, 72
- Scorpion, the battle-ship, 218
- Sellwood, Captain Joseph, 29
- Seneca Indians, the, 165
- Seven Years’ War, the beginning of the, 181
- Shattuck’s Grove, an inexpensive resort, 79
- Sheadle, J. H., 14
- Ship-builders, the, of the Lakes, vi
- Ships, the, of the Great Lakes, 1
- Shuffle-board, the playing of, 150
- Signals in code used on the Lakes, 156
- Silver-ware on a freighter, 144
- Sinclair, Captain, on Lake Huron, 217
- Sioux Indians, the, 165
- Snyder, W. P., 30
- Social equality on the Lakes, the, 70
- “Soo,” records of tonnage at the, 27
- St. Clair, Lake, a summer at, 83
- Steam shovels, the work of, 38
- Steel Corporation, the, 122
- St. Mary’s River, the, 87
- “Stripping,” the work of, 39
- Suez Canal, the, in 1908, 6
- Summer life on the Lakes, the, 68 ff.
- Superior, the steamer, 98
- Superior, Lake, commerce on, 10
- Supremacy, the struggle for, 114
- T227
- Taxes in Michigan, the lapse of, 58
- Te Deum Laudamus, the singing of, 171
- Thames, the battle of the, 85
- Thomas F. Cole, the steamer, 19
- “Thousand-mile highway,” the, 3, 13
- Toledo, shipyards at, 10
- Toledo Shipbuilding Company, the, 18
- Tomlinson, G. Ashley, 14;
- an opinion of, 36
- Tonawandas, the twin, 46
- Tower, Charlemagne, Ambassador to Germany, 1884, 34
- Tragedies, the, of the Lakes, 95
- “Twin Cities,” the, 54
- “Two Lost Tows,” the, 102
- U
- United States, the emigrant ship, 220
- Upper Peninsula, the, 87
- Utes, the, of White River, 41
- Utrecht, the Treaty of, 1713, 180
- V
- Van Rensselaer, Colonel, 199
- Vermilion ranges, the, 29
- Vessels of the Lakes, the construction of, 10 ff.
- W
- Walk-in-the-Water, the first steamboat of the upper Lakes, 219
- Wallace, James C., of Cleveland, 16
- War of 1812, the, 194 ff.
- W. B. Kerr, capacity of the, 61
- West Superior, shipyards at, 10
- Western Reserve, the, 98
- Westinghouse, George, an opinion by, 133
- Westmoreland, loss of the, 110
- W. F. Sauber, the, 96;
- the sinking of, 97
- Whisky, a valuable cargo, 110
- White River Utes, the, 41
- Wickwire Steel Company, the, 125
- William H. Stevens, the treasure ship, 108
- Wolvin, A. B., 40
- Y
- Yale, the steamer, 96
- Yellow pine of Louisiana, the, 58
- Yeo, Sir James Lucas, 203
- Young Sion, the disappearance of the, 109
American Waterways
The Romance of the Colorado River
The Story of its Discovery in 1540, with an account of the Later Explorations, and with Special Reference to the Voyages of Powell through the Line of the Great Canyons.
The Story of its Discovery in 1540, along with details about Later Explorations, particularly the Voyages of Powell through the Great Canyons.
By Frederick S. Dellenbaugh
Member of the United States Colorado River Expedition of 1871 and 1872
By Frederick S. Dellenbaugh
Member of the 1871 and 1872 Colorado River Expedition of the United States
435 pages, with 200 Illustrations, and Frontispiece in Color. $3.50 net
435 pages, with 200 illustrations and a color frontispiece. $3.50 net
“His scientific training, his long experience in this region, and his eye for natural scenery enable him to make this account of the Colorado River most graphic and interesting. No other book equally good can be written for many years to come—not until our knowledge of the river is greatly enlarged.”—The Boston Herald.
“His scientific background, extensive experience in this area, and keen eye for natural beauty allow him to make this account of the Colorado River incredibly vivid and engaging. No other book as good as this one can be written for many years—not until our understanding of the river increases significantly.”—The Boston Herald.
“Mr. Dellenbaugh writes with enthusiasm and balance about his chief, and of the canyon with a fascination that make him disinclined to leave it, and brings him thirty years later to its description with undiminished interest.”—New York Tribune.
“Mr. Dellenbaugh writes with excitement and fairness about his chief, and about the canyon with a fascination that makes him reluctant to leave it, which brings him thirty years later to describe it with the same level of interest.” —New York Tribune.
The Ohio River
A Path of Empire
By Archer B. Hulbert
Associate professor of American History, Marietta College,
Author of “Historic Highways of America,” etc.
By Archer B. Hulbert
Associate Professor of American History at Marietta College,
Author of “Historic Highways of America” and more.
390 pages, with 100 Illustrations and a Map. $3.50 net
390 pages, with 100 illustrations and a map. $3.50 net
An interesting description from a fresh point of view of the international struggle which ended with the English conquest of the Ohio Basin, and includes many interesting details of the pioneer movement on the Ohio. The most widely read students of the Ohio Valley will find a unique and unexpected interest in Mr. Hulbert’s chapters dealing with the Ohio River in the Revolution, the rise of the cities of Pittsburg, Cincinnati, and Louisville, the fighting Virginians, the old-time methods of navigation, etc.
An intriguing description from a new perspective on the international struggle that culminated in the English conquest of the Ohio Basin, featuring many fascinating details about the pioneer movement in Ohio. The most widely read students of the Ohio Valley will discover a unique and surprising interest in Mr. Hulbert’s chapters addressing the Ohio River during the Revolution, the growth of the cities of Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, and Louisville, the battling Virginians, the traditional navigation methods, and more.
“A wonderfully comprehensive and entirely fascinating book.”—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
“A wonderfully comprehensive and completely fascinating book.”—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
Narragansett Bay
Its Historic and Romantic Associations and Picturesque Setting
Its Historic and Romantic Connections and Scenic Location
By Edgar Mayhew Bacon
Author of “The Hudson River,” “Chronicles of Tarrytown,” etc.
By Edgar Mayhew Bacon
Author of “The Hudson River,” “Chronicles of Tarrytown,” and more.
340 pages, with 50 Drawings by the Author, and with Numerous Photographs and a Map. $3.50 net
340 pages, with 50 illustrations by the author, plus numerous photographs and a map. $3.50 net
Impressed by the important and singular part played by the settlers of Narragansett in the development of American ideas and ideals, and strongly attracted by the romantic tales that are inwoven with the warp of history, as well as by the incomparable setting the great bay affords for such a subject, the author offers this result of his labor as a contribution to the story of great American Waterways, with the hope that his readers may be imbued with somewhat of his own enthusiasm.
Impressed by the significant and unique role the Narragansett settlers played in shaping American ideas and ideals, and captivated by the romantic stories intertwined with history, as well as the stunning backdrop the great bay provides for this topic, the author presents this outcome of his work as a contribution to the narrative of great American waterways, hoping that his readers will share some of his enthusiasm.
“An attractive description of the picturesque part of Rhode Island. Mr. Bacon dwells on the natural beauties, the legendary and historical associations, rather than the present appearance of the shores.”—N. Y. Sun.
“An appealing description of the scenic area of Rhode Island. Mr. Bacon focuses on the natural beauty, the legends, and historical connections, instead of the current state of the shores.”—N. Y. Sun.
The Great Lakes
By James Oliver Curwood
By James Oliver Curwood
With about 80 Illustrations. Probable price $3.50 net
With around 80 illustrations. Estimated price $3.50 net
This profusely illustrated book, as entertaining as it is informing, has the twofold advantage of being written by a man who knows the Lakes and their shores as well as what has been written about them. The general reader will enjoy the romance attaching to the past history of the Lakes and not less the romance of the present—the story of the great commercial fleets that plough our inland seas, created to transport the fruits of the earth and the metals that are dug from the bowels of the earth. To the business man who has interests in or about the Lakes, or to the prospective investor in Great Lakes enterprises, the book will be found suggestive. Comparatively little has been written of these fresh-water seas, and many of his readers will be amazed at the wonderful story which this volume tells.
This beautifully illustrated book, both entertaining and informative, has the unique advantage of being written by someone who knows the Lakes and their shores inside and out, as well as the existing literature about them. The average reader will appreciate the fascinating history of the Lakes and also the compelling story of the present—highlighting the large commercial fleets that navigate our inland seas, created to transport the fruits of the earth and the metals mined from deep within the ground. For business professionals with interests in or around the Lakes, or for potential investors in Great Lakes ventures, the book offers valuable insights. Not much has been written about these freshwater seas, and many readers will be amazed by the incredible stories this volume reveals.
The St. Lawrence River
Historical—Legendary—Picturesque
Historic—Legendary—Scenic
By George Waldo Browne
Author of “Japan—the Place and the People,” “Paradise of the Pacific,” etc.
By George Waldo Browne
Author of “Japan—the Place and the People,” “Paradise of the Pacific,” and more.
385 pages, with 100 Illustrations and a Map. $3.50 net
385 pages, with 100 illustrations and a map. $3.50 net
While the St. Lawrence River has been the scene of many important events connected with the discovery and development of a large portion of North America, no attempt has heretofore been made to collect and embody in one volume a complete and comprehensive narrative of this great waterway. This is not denying that considerable has been written relating to it, but the various offerings have been scattered through many volumes, and most of these have become inaccessible to the general reader.
While the St. Lawrence River has been the site of many significant events tied to the discovery and development of a large part of North America, no effort has been made until now to gather and present a complete and comprehensive story of this major waterway in one book. This isn’t to say that a lot has been written about it, but those various works have been spread across many volumes, and most of them have become hard for the average reader to access.
This work presents in a consecutive narrative the most important historic incidents connected with the river, combined with descriptions of some of its most picturesque scenery and delightful excursions into its legendary lore. In selecting the hundred illustrations care has been taken to give as wide a scope as possible to the views belonging to the river.
This work provides a sequential narrative of the most significant historical events related to the river, along with descriptions of some of its most beautiful scenery and enjoyable trips into its famous legends. In choosing the hundred illustrations, we've aimed to cover a broad range of views associated with the river.
The Niagara River
By Archer Butler Hulbert
Professor of American History, Marietta College; author of “The Ohio River,”
“Historic Highways of America,” etc.
By Archer Butler Hulbert
Professor of American History at Marietta College; author of “The Ohio River,” “Historic Highways of America,” and more.
350 pages, with 70 Illustrations and Maps. $3.50 net
350 pages, with 70 illustrations and maps. $3.50 net
Professor Hulbert tells all that is best worth recording of the history of the river which gives the book its title, and of its commercial present and its great commercial future. An immense amount of carefully ordered information is here brought together into a most entertaining and informing book. No mention of this volume can be quite adequate that fails to take into account the extraordinary chapter which is given to chronicling the mad achievements of that company of dare-devil bipeds of both sexes who for decades have been sweeping over the Falls in barrels and other receptacles, or who have gone dancing their dizzy way on ropes or wires stretched from shore to shore above the boiling, leaping water beneath.
Professor Hulbert shares everything worth noting about the history of the river that gives the book its title, as well as its current commercial status and promising future. An incredible amount of well-organized information is compiled into a highly entertaining and informative book. Any discussion of this volume would be incomplete if it didn't acknowledge the remarkable chapter detailing the wild exploits of the fearless individuals, both men and women, who have been tumbling over the Falls in barrels and other containers for decades, or who have been performing their daring feats on ropes or wires strung between the shores above the churning, rushing water below.
The Hudson River
From Ocean to Source
Historical—Legendary—Picturesque
Historic—Epic—Scenic
By Edgar Mayhew Bacon
Author of “Chronicles of Tarrytown,” “Narragansett Bay,” etc.
By Edgar Mayhew Bacon
Author of “Chronicles of Tarrytown,” “Narragansett Bay,” and others.
600 Pages, with 100 Illustrations, including a Sectional Map of the Hudson River. $3.50 net
600 pages, featuring 100 illustrations, including a sectional map of the Hudson River. $3.50 net
“The value of this handsome quarto does not depend solely on the attractiveness with which Mr. Bacon has invested the whole subject, it is a kind of footnote to the more conventional histories, because it throws light upon the life and habits of the earliest settlers. It is a study of Dutch civilization in the New World, severe enough in intentions to be accurate, but easy enough in temper to make a great deal of humor, and to comment upon those characteristic customs and habits which, while they escape the attention of the formal historian, are full of significance.”—Outlook.
“The value of this beautiful book isn't just in how appealing Mr. Bacon has made the topic; it serves as a kind of footnote to the more traditional histories because it sheds light on the lives and habits of the earliest settlers. It's a study of Dutch culture in the New World, serious enough in its goals to be accurate, but lighthearted enough to include a lot of humor and to comment on those distinctive customs and habits that often go unnoticed by formal historians, yet are very significant.” —Outlook.
The Connecticut River
AND THE
Valley of the Connecticut
THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILES FROM THE MOUNTAIN TO THE SEA
Historical and Descriptive
Historical and Descriptive
By Edwin Munroe Bacon
Author of “Walks And Rides in the Country Round About Boston,” etc.
By Edwin Munroe Bacon
Author of “Walks and Rides in the Country Around Boston,” among others.
500 Pages, with 100 Illustrations and a Map. $3.50 net
500 pages, with 100 illustrations and a map. $3.50 net
From ocean to source every mile of the Connecticut is crowded with reminders of the early explorers, of the Indian wars, of the struggle of the Colonies, and of the quaint, peaceful village existence of the early days of the Republic. Beginning with the Dutch discovery, Mr. Bacon traces the interesting movements and events which are associated with this chief river of New England.
From the ocean to its source, every mile of the Connecticut River is filled with reminders of early explorers, Indian wars, the struggles of the Colonies, and the charming, peaceful village life in the early days of the Republic. Starting with the Dutch discovery, Mr. Bacon outlines the intriguing movements and events connected to this main river of New England.
The Columbia River
Its History—Its Myths—Its Scenery—Its Commerce
Its History—Myths—Scenery—Commerce
By William Denison Lyman
Professor of History in Whitman College, Walla Walla, Washington
By William Denison Lyman
Professor of History at Whitman College, Walla Walla, WA
Fully Illustrated. Probable price, $3.50 net
Fully Illustrated. Likely price, $3.50 net
This is the first effort to present a book distinctively on the Columbia River. It is the intention of the author to give some special prominence to Nelson and the magnificent lake district by which it is surrounded. As the joint possession of the United States and British Columbia, and as the grandest scenic river of the continent, the Columbia is worthy of special attention.
This is the first attempt to present a book specifically about the Columbia River. The author aims to highlight Nelson and the stunning lake area surrounding it. Being shared by the United States and British Columbia, and as the most impressive scenic river on the continent, the Columbia deserves special recognition.
In Preparation:
Getting Ready:
Each will be fully illustrated and will probably be published at $3.50 net
Each will have full illustrations and will likely be published at $3.50 net
1.—Inland Waterways
By Herbert Quick
2.—The Mississippi River
By Julius Chambers
3.—The Story of the Chesapeake
By Ruthella Mory Bibbins
4.—Lake George and Lake Champlain
By W. Max Reid
Author of “The Mohawk Valley,” “The Story of Old Fort Johnson,” etc.
1.—Inland Waterways
By Herbert Quick
2.—The Mississippi River
By Julius Chambers
3.—The Chesapeake Story
By Ruthella Mory Bibbins
4.—Lake George and Lake Champlain
By W. Max Reid
Author of "The Mohawk Valley," "The Story of Old Fort Johnson," and others.
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were standardized when a clear preference was identified in this book; otherwise, they were left unchanged.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced quotation marks retained.
Simple typos were fixed; some unbalanced quotation marks were kept.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
Ambiguous hyphens at the end of lines were kept.
Index not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page references.
Index not checked for proper alphabetization or accurate page references.
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