Door County's first permanent white settler was Increase Claflin who settled at Little Sturgeon in May, 1835. He was a trapper and Indian trader. Soon after him came the fishermen, settling first on Rock Island and Washington Island and gradually spreading farther south.
In
those days the waters of Green Bay seemed to
have an inexhaustible supply of whitefish and
hundreds of fishermen were busy with their capture.
The price of fish at that time was very small,
two cents per pound by the ton being all that
was paid after it was delivered in Marinette,
Menominee or other distant ports.
These first pioneers esteemed the land of little or no value and it was not until after 1850 that anyone settled in the county with the purpose of making a living by agriculture. The first of these were the Norwegian Moravians at Ephraim and Sturgeon Bay. In 1855 and 1856 large numbers of Belgians settled in the deep woods of Union, Brussels and Gardner and began to clear farms.
The
work of making farms was very slow, however,
and there was very little agriculture until
about 1870. The population of the county in
1860 was 2,948; and in 1870 it numbered 4,919.
Most of these were connected with timber operations
and fishing.
About 1850 a number of timber operators saw the possibilities in Door County’s abundant forests of pine and cedar. Mills were built in Sturgeon Bay and other places and many larger piers were built around the shores of the peninsula for the shipping of telegraph poles, ties, dimension timber, lumber and cordwood. Until 1890 lumbering and the shipping of cedar was the principal industry of the county.
Many
of these shipping points, now almost forgotten,
were then busy centers of trade where husky
woodsmen gathered, wondering dismally what would
become of the county when the timber was all
cut. Among these defunct villages of Door County
may be mentioned Little Sturgeon, Fascaro, Clay
Banks, Horns Pier, Podunk, Whitefish Bay, Rowleys,
North Bay and Hedge Hog Harbor. Almost every
original entry of land in Door County was for
lumber exploitation.
When the best of the timber was cut the land was usually sold for taxes to a woodchopper who would keep it for a year or two whereupon it would again be sold for taxes. The early files of the county papers each year show lists of thousands of tracts of land advertised for sale for taxes.
In the meantime a few persistent pioneers here and there stuck to their claims laboriously clearing the land and grubbing the stumps. They eked out a precarious living by helping at fishing, shaving shingles or cutting cordwood or railroad ties. There was, however, extremely small returns for forest products and a large share of the timber was rolled together and burned on the ground. The following price list advertised by Horn & Joseph at Sherman Bay shows how little was paid for forest products as late as 1880:
| Maplewood per cord. . . . . . . . sawed |
$2.1255 |
| Birch wood, sawed, per cord. . . . . . . . |
$1.62
½ |
| Split
and 4-inch round cedar posts, 7½ feet long |
$0.02 |
| 3-inch
round cedar posts, 7 ½ feet long. . . . . |
$.02
¾ |
| 9-inch round cedar posts, 7 ½ feet long. . . . . . . |
$.04
½ |
| Cedar
ties, 6 in. x6 in. x 8 ft . . . . . . . .
. . . |
$0.13 |
| Hemlock
ties, 6 in. x 6 in. x 8 f t . . . . . . .
. |
$0.11 |
| Cedar poles, 25 feet long, 6-inch top. . . . . . . . |
$0.37 ½ |
| Cedar poles, 25 feet long 4-inch top. . . . . . . |
$0.25 |
| Hemlock bark, per cord. . . . . . . . . . . . |
$3.00 |
The hemlock logs after they were peeled were usuallv left to rot in the woods. Many of the settlers, in hewing a farm from the forest, had to "eat it as they went." That is, when they cut a tree, they worked it up into shingles, shaved out by hand, or split it into bolts, barrel staves, or some other marketable product.
The
marketing or hauling was generally done on rude
carts, drawn by cows and oxen and, when closely
pinched, by man and wife. The little jag or
load was traded for groceries and supplies,
which were carted home and sustained life while
more trees mere felled and worked into marketables.
While the land was very cheap and material for a humble log house could be had for the cutting, it was a far bigger problem to get water. Owing to the great expense of drilling a well through a layer of stone 200 feet thick there were very few wells drilled the first thirty years. Shallow but unsanitary rain water cisterns were common, but these had to be supplemented with much carting and hauling of water.
The
wood wagons creaking their way over rough roads
to Sturgeon Bay were usually surmounted by a
water barrel for the return home. The cattle
roamed at large finding their water in ditches
and swamps and in winter they licked snow.
In 1847 the Steamer Michigan began to run between Chicago and Buffalo and for sixteen years visited Door County points, these being Washington Harbor, Fish Creek and Sturgeon Bay. Later Baileys Harbor also became a regular stopping place. The Michigan was commanded first by Captain John and later by his nephew, Capt. Albert Stewart. As good natured messengers from the great world outside these men grew into the affections of the people.
There
were also a number of nondescript hookers which
plied along the shore, buying forest products
and fish and returning with sundry necessities
of life.
Owing to the lack of highways and railroads for transportation, the few stores in the county usually were short in stock, which often caused much inconvenience. Sometimes the vessels bringing provisions in the fall would freeze up and people suffered much hardship during the winter.
In the fall of 1866 the sudden arrival of cold weather prevented several vessels laden with provisions for the winter from reaching any Door County point. The Steamer Ogontz had on a cargo of supplies for the settlement at Sturgeon Bay but when within sight of the village it was obliged to back up out of the ice and land the freight at Egg Harbor.
It
was necessary for the whole population to turn
out and cut a road through the virgin timber
to Egg Harbor and bring the bulky freight overland.
Throughout the settlements and lumber camps
around the county much suffering resulted, as
most people had only potatoes and molasses to
subsist upon. That winter a man was rated, not
by his money, but by his stock of potatoes.
The following year, 1867, a nation-wide panic completely put a stop to the lumbering industry and almost put the fishermen out of business for the several years.
Then followed the war, during which time there was very little immigration and business at home stagnated for want of help. After the war followed a few years of prosperity which, however, came to an abrupt end in 1871 in the southern half of the county.
October
9th of that year occurred that terrible forest
fire which destroyed the timber, the homes,
the cattle and in many cases the lives of the
settlers and workers of the towns of Union,
Brussels, Gardner, Forestville and Nasewaupee.
For many years the survivors struggled desperately
to overcome the desolation brought by nature
on that terrible Sunday.
In
1873 began another period of financial depression.
Prices went down so low that very few things could
be sold at any profit. Lumber cargoes did not pay
for the freight. One man in 1875 shipped a cargo of
telegraph poles to Chicago and was out $60 after paying
the freight.
In
this year grasshoppers also devastated the fields
of the farmers. In 1877 the times were so hard
it was almost impossible to collect the taxes.
The total assessed valuation of the county in that
pear was $724,000, being reduced about 20 per cent
from the preceding year. Yet in spite of these tribulations
and hard times most of the old pioneers were of
good courage.
They
found that the soil when freed from stumps and
stones in normal years bore wonderful crops,
and while there were very small returns for
anything they sold because of low prices and
the high cost of transportation, they had abundance
for man and beast. Having but slight individual
means the settlers were more dependent upon
each other which made for greater neighborliness
and sociability. With prosperity people become
largely independent of each other, selfishness
is developed and neighborly courtesies are neglected.
Not
so in the pioneer days. Then each was largely
dependent upon his neighbor which encouraged
an intimate companionship which is now sorely
missed by those who recall the old days.
The winter season especially in the rural districts was the pleasantest time in the year. Corn huskings, paring-bees, quilting frolics, candy-pullings, spelling schools, sleighing parties, and many other excuses for frequent assemblages of young and old folks, made the long evenings pass merrily away, the pleasures of the time being rather increased by the antecedent labors which were the primary reason for many of these gatherings.
The making of a quilt was in those days a matter in which the whole neighborhood manifested a lively interest. For a quilt was not merely a thing of "shreds and patches," but it was a little history in mosaic. Every rag-bag in the neighborhood sent its tribute, and when completed its owner could tell you whose "gown" every separate block represented.
Upon the eventful day the quilting bars were brought down from the garret, the quilt properly fastened thereto, the pattern laid with more or less art, and then the ladies threaded their needles, and quilted and discussed the new minister's wife, and told one another how to make cookies without eggs, biscuits without shortening and the best remedies for influenza, "rheumatiz," fever-sores, croup, cat-boils and convulsions.
From
time to time the bars were rolled up as the
work progressed; the ladies hitched their chairs
close together, growing more confidential as
they did so, and all talking sweetly together
at the rate of about seventy-five miles an hour,
including stoppages. It was delightful to see
them quilt, and talk, and wipe their spectacles,
and take snuff. But such enjoyment could not
last forever.
The
final stitch taken and the room "ridded
up" tea was announced,
and amid the clattering of china, the incense
of young hyson, and the generous cheer of country
fare, the ladies found ample consolation for
the labors of the afternoon.
The
evening was given up to the young folks, who
came betimes, and hunted the slipper, and spun
the plate, and told fortunes, and paid forfeits,
and danced to the music of a wheezy clarinet
and a squeaky fiddle, and had such a jolly time
as only good-natured lads
and
buxom lassies know how to enjoy; winding
up with a ride home by moonlight, the sleighbells
ringing a pleasing accompaniment to the
laughter and the song of the party as it sped
swiftly along through the frosty night.
These were the fathers and grandfathers of the present generation. Rude in their speech, homely in their ways, and unrefined in their amusements, they were no doubt; yet they some how managed to browse along through the world in comfortable fashion, and lead useful, happy lives. We would laugh at their homespun clothing and their coarse boots were they to come among us today.
Nevertheless,
it may be as well to make a note of the fact
that in spite of their often rough exterior,
there were generous, honest souls within. They
came bravely into the wilderness to take up
battle with a hard, stubborn nature in order
that their children might profit. While their
own lot was one of almost unceasing toil, worry
and self-denial, their sons and daughters are
now able to meet the problems of life in ease
and comfort.
With the opening of the Sturgeon Bay and Lake Michigan Canal in 1880 the village of Sturgeon Bay experienced quite a boom. This was reflected throughout the county in a greater demand for land. A few years later the railroad from Green Bay to Sturgeon Bay was completed and this perhaps more than anything else helped to build up the county.
A
means of transportation for the products and
people of the county was at last opened up and
people no longer felt that they lived in an
inaccessible desert. The county might have had
a railroad long before this but a number of
men, directly and indirectly interested in various
small vessels plying on the bay, had managed
to foster a hostile sentiment against railroads.
During the last twenty years, Door County has made very rapid strides toward prosperity. Aside from the patient development of our fertile farming lands which has been the chief cause of this prosperity, three other important factors have greatly helped. These are the fruit growing, summer resort business and the good roads movement.
In
1892 the first scientific horticulturists began
to demonstrate that Door County was peculiarly
favored by nature for the production of extra
choice apples, cherries, strawberries and plums.
This has brought a great many men of ability
and means into the county and much of our land
is now cultivated and cared for like a garden.
In 1895 our superb scenery began to attract
the attention of discriminating people and summer
resorters have since then each year gathered here by the thousands, greatly enriching the county.
Much
of our formerly valueless land along the Green
Bay Shore has been bought by them at high prices
and is being rapidly and beautifully improved.
Finally, in 1906, began our new system of highway
improvement which has distinguished Door County
as the foremost road builder of the state. The
county is now spending more for good roads per
capita than any other county in the state, but
it is a tax which is most cheerfully paid, as
it, with the help of the automobile, has annihilated
distance and knit the most distant parts of
the county together in a new unity and fellowship.
Door County has now an assessed valuation of more than $20,000,000. Most of the farms and homes are free from mortgages. There is also on deposit in the local banks more than $2,000,000. More than 90 per cent of this wealth has been created within the last twenty years.
In view of the obstacles that had to be overcome, Door County has achieved splendid success. Most of its settlers came into this land of timber, stumps and stones empty handed. Farm products in early days were exceedingly low, butter sometimes selling for eight cents a pound and eggs for four cents a dozen. When rains softened the roads, the farmer had to stay at home. Mail was delivered once a week if nothing interfered. When a doctor was needed a thirty-mile trip was often necessary to get him.
Now as the old pioneer looks about him, he sees a region as well tilled and fruitful as any in the state. His mail is daily delivered at his door. Telephones are at any man's command. Automobiles now buzz over macadam roads where formerly the oxen toiled through the mud. Comfortable homes line every road. The future looks bright.
