Excerpts from “Roots in the Past – Seeds for the Future” and “The Heritage & History of Clover Valley, French River & Surrounding Communities”.
By June Pelo.
Among all the historical eras that contributed to the formation and development of our community, the logging era was probably the shortest, yet none left so dramatic a change on our land. As early as 1854, shortly after the first copper explorers began staking claims, trees were being felled. For the next several years, sporadic logging occurred along the coastline and up into the more easily accessible creeks and rivers flowing into Lake Superior. Yet for the next four decades, most of the inland areas remained untouched due to the rough terrain and rocky conditions. In fact, it wasn’t until the last few years of the 19th century that the vast majority of our land would bear witness to the type of extensive logging which literally leveled our forests and changed our horizon line. But once that real cutting began, seldom did the trees stop falling.
The 20 years from approximately 1898 until the time of World War I were the heyday of logging in our community. Up until then for nearly 10,000 years, the land had been evolving. The towering pines so eagerly sought were only the most recent stage in a succession of many varied landscapes. From the times of barren tundra through the thousands of years of change that followed, people made this land their “home.” For millennia, they had used its evolving resources continuously, yet with little noticeable or long lasting impact. This new logging era was different. Logging did not leave the land so untouched. It transformed this place, changing it from deep forests to vast openness, altering both the look of our land and our relationship to it.
The great thirst for timber that felled the trees did not begin here. Its origins were on the far eastern coasts of our continent with the beginnings of first European settlements. Europeans’ view toward land and their use of it differed significantly from that of the people they encountered upon arrival. Europeans, familiar and comfortable with a continent which for centuries had been cleared and planted, viewed the vast forests they faced in North America fearfully, as a major obstacle standing between them and the success of their venture. Cleared land meant corps, livestock and production, and trees covering this new land were soon cut and burned. But as new arrivals made their way across the ocean, it became clear that lumber, as well as land, was needed for the continued growth they desired. New settlements brought increased demand for building materials, and attention refocused on the forests. No longer viewed as just a barrier to expansion, trees gradually were considered a valuable resource in their own right.
The process of making lumber from logs was not an easy task to people who had to rely primarily on muscle instead of machines for power. One of the earliest methods of lumber making was the pit saw. Pit saws (also known as whipsaws) cut logs into boards one at a time by hand power alone. This technique required a pit (or in some cases a scaffolding system built above ground to cradle the log), a long saw and two people. One person standing on the log from above grasped the saw in their hands, while a second person in the “pit” (soon to be covered in sawdust) pulled the saw from below. This method of cutting, which produced only a single board at a time, was obviously laborious and time consuming and only yielded a minimal amount of lumber. By the mid-1600’s, a new era in milling began with the establishment, in Maine, of the first water-powered mills. These new sawmills dramatically increased the volume of lumber which could be produced. For the next 200 years, the forests of Maine, as well as those of New York and the rest of New England, were harvested and milled in an attempt to feed the colonies’, and later the country’s, ever-increasing appetite for lumber. During that time period, the number of sawmills along the eastern coast grew rapidly from only a scattered few to over 30,000. The effects of this volume of cutting were dramatic. By the mid-1850’s, most of the eastern forests had been cut and attention was turning westward.
From the earliest days of lumbering, there was no tree more highly prized than the white pine. It was, without question, the dominant tree of the forests from Maine to Minnesota. Strong, durable, easy to work and large (growing to over 200 feet in height and two axe lengths wide), it was valued as a building material, in furniture making and for flooring. So it was natural that once the lumbermen in their journey west had cleared the forests of Pennsylvania, they eagerly descended on the next state – Michigan (with an estimated 150 billion board feet of white pine). As early as 1870, Michigan was leading the nation in lumber production. So great was its supply of timber that for nearly the next three decades, Michigan produced more lumber than any other state in the nation.
But in the end, even the vast pine forests of Michigan were no match for the lumberman’s axe. Eventually, it too was forced to relinquish its national lead in lumber production to another state lying still further west – Wisconsin. Wisconsin’s pineries were not nearly as extensive as Michigan’s and were mixed occasionally with maple, oak and other hardwood trees common to Wisconsin’s more southern regions. In fact, it could be argued that the heart of Wisconsin’s best white pine stands lay along the far western boundary of the state. In the valley of the St. Croix River, an area Wisconsin shared with Minnesota, some of the prime white pine of the Midwest was found on a river system seemingly designed for logging.
Rivers had always played a vital role in the logging industry. Mills were built near them, logs were floated down them and towns constructed along them. The St. Croix proved no exception. It too soon showed signs of development. Lumbermen had eyed the St. Croix Valley from the early 1800’s, but it wasn’t until the treaty of 1837 with the Ojibwe people, that the valley legally became available for cutting. Within two years, the first mill was opened at Marine on St. Croix, and trees began to be felled, floated and cut into boards. Before long, enormous quantities of lumber were heading south down the St. Croix and Mississippi Rivers and west on the Minnesota River, providing materials to help settle the prairies and build the towns and farm communities of a country expanding ever westward.
As the lower reaches of the St. Croix Valley were cleared, pressure on the remaining forested lands was felt. Cutting moved further and further upriver, and eyes eventually turned to the last area of white pines still standing between Maine and the western prairies – the forests north and west of Lake Superior. The first production of lumber in what we today know as northeast Minnesota probably occurred in the early 1840’s on a simple pit saw that had been constructed in the small Ojibwe settlement at Fond du Lac. The limited number of boards cut at this site was the total production of the entire region until 1854, the year in which the Treaty of La Pointe was signed. In this treaty, the Ojibwe people, in exchange for a variety of treaty rights, ceded large portions of northeast Minnesota to the United States government. Now, for the first time, white settlement and development of the area legally began. Almost immediately the area from Duluth to the border witnessed the arrival of settlers, miners, explorers, and of course, the lumbermen.
By the end of the 1850’s, steam mills had been built in Duluth as well as Two Harbors, and a water-powered mill was producing lumber in Beaver Bay. These first mills sawed relatively modest amount of logs and primarily were dependent on material harvested in the general vicinity of the mills themselves – more accessible areas along Lake Superior and the surrounding hills close to Duluth. Over the next two decades, logging operations slowly expanded further and further up the shore, yet they were still concentrated in areas long the coastline. It took until the 1880’s for lumber demand, which had been slow for several years due to poor economic times nationwide, to rebound sufficiently and finally focus attention on the heavily forested and relatively untouched lands stretching inland along Lake Superior from Duluth to the Canadian border.
Unfavorable economic conditions and slow demand were not the only reasons why most of Lake Superior’s North Shore region had escaped intensive cutting in the 1860’s and 1870’s. Two other factors played a role – the quality of the trees and the terrain in which they grew. The forests of the area were impressive, but lumberman were always looking for the best tree. The forests of northeast Minnesota contained high volumes of pine but did not produce the size or quality of tree found in Michigan or the St. Croix Valley. Given options, lumbermen chose to overlook the area and to concentrate their efforts on the prime white pine that grew elsewhere. Secondly, and of even greater importance to keeping the area uncut, was terrain. The land north of Duluth differed significantly from what was familiar to eastern lumbermen. In most of the areas previously cut, logging operations had depended on and been centered around rivers, especially large and expansive rivers used to transport logs to downstream mills. Northeast Minnesota had few large rivers, and no matter what size, nearly all rivers flowing into Lake Superior had gradients or drops that were too steep to allow drives to safely or practically take place. Adding to the difficulty was a landscape that was rough, rocky and cut with numerous deep stream beds. Clearly, if the heavily forested land inland from Lake Superior were to be harvested, the traditional method for transporting logs to mill needed to change.
Sleigh Logging and Ice Roads
By the mid-1800’s, lumbermen turned to sleigh logging. Limited access to the inland forests combined with difficulty of hauling cut logs back to areas accessible to water were the major obstacles that had always faced loggers searching for a way to harvest the area north of Lake Superior. Trees along the coast could be cut and practically dropped into the lake, gathered in large rafts and floated to mills for sawing. However, trees inland had to somehow be transported to the shore. Since rivers didn’t work as a means of moving them, the second best method had to be roads. Sleigh logging depended on a special kind of road, one that was only used in winter, a road made of ice.
Ice roads provided access inland allowing large tracts of land to be harvested for the first time. Ice roads were laid out with great care. Routes were picked to provide the most gradual descent from the harvested areas to the lake shore. Loaded sleighs often weighed 25 tons or more. If the drop was too steep, loads of logs went out of control, overran the pulling horses, and caused disastrous results. Starting in early fall, a road from the landing area to the area to be harvested was cleared. Once the weather turned cold enough, water was laid over this cleared path using a special sleigh loaded with a water tank that had holes cut in the bottom. It was important the ice road be solid and thick, and because of that, water was applied many times and allowed to freeze to a depth of several inches. To keep sleighs on the path and in control, grooves were cut into the finished road bed with a special “rut cutter” and then iced again. These grooves were usually set a little over seven feet apart and guided the runners under the loaded sleigh, keeping it on track and within the center of the road. Once harvesting season began, nearly all “ice” work done on the roads was completed during the night, allowing limited daylight hours to be devoted solely to hauling.
Drivers of the teams of horses (oxen in some cases) that pulled these sleighs were known as “teamsters.” Most teamsters began with a team of two horses and then graduated to a “four horse team,” which required a greater skill level. Teamsters took great pride in their job and in their ability to handle their teams. A good teamster was valuable to any logging operation and was usually paid a step or two above general laborers. “Road monkeys” were laborers, but the job they performed was also vital to a successful sleigh logging operation. It was their responsibility to constantly check the quality and conditions of the ice and to remove the ever-present manure from the road bed. They were most highly-prized for their ability to brake a sleigh descending a hill by dropping just the right amount of hay under the runners, thereby slowing the sleigh. Skill lay in controlling the amount of braking so to descend the grade without overworking or overrunning the team.
Logging camps were located inland, and nearly all cutting was concentrated in the winter months when ground was solid and ice roads could be maintained. Besides the mandatory bunkhouse and cooking shack, most camps also consisted of a barn for horses and shops for the blacksmith and saw filer. In some cases, a camp office or even a store may have been included, depending on how large and how permanent the operation was. Traditionally, most logging camps were between 75 and 100 men, and most camps in our community were probably that size or smaller. Responsibilities varied widely from those of general laborers, who were paid the least, to the head cook, probably the most important person in any camp, whose wage could be several times that of a newly-hired laborer. Men were generally paid as a reflection of their skill levels, as well as their experience in the woods. A good saw filer or blacksmith was highly valued and paid well, as was the person known as the “top loader,” who had the responsibility of placing and securing the top logs on the sleighs – a job involving both skill and danger. The “benefits” of the job in those days were a warm, dry place to sleep and all the good, hearty food one could eat. To many men, this was nearly as important as the wages they earned; decisions about which camp to join often came down to the quality of food offered and reputation of the cook who was making it.
Many loggers who worked in the camps during the sleigh logging days probably made their way west as the forests were felled. Others were recruited from areas such as Duluth and Superior by logging companies or employment agencies that found men out of work or hanging around saloons and convinced them to head to the woods. Once there, many did not get back to town until the end of the season. After a quick flurry of spending, they found themselves once again broke, ready to go back to the woods for another year as soon as winter approached. However, others were family men living in the community year-round, who simply worked in logging as a means of supplementing their farm or fishing income. This was especially true after 1900 once permanent settlers moved inland, but records indicate it also occurred to some degree in early sleigh logging days.
The period of sleigh logging and rafting probably reached its peak in the 1890’s, when large rafts of logs being towed to Duluth and Superior or even further across the lake to mills in Ashland, Wisconsin and Baraga, Michigan, were a common sight. By the end of the decade though, it was clear that a new era in northeast Minnesota logging was on the horizon. In 1898, the Michigan logging firm of Alger-Smith was chartered to operate in Minnesota. It immediately purchased an existing mill on Rice’s Point in Duluth and began buying up extensive holdings of land all along the North Shore. In its first year of operation, it rafted logs to its mill (primarily from the Pigeon River area). But it soon became apparent a better means of transportation needed to be found in order for the mill, with a capacity of over a million board feet of lumber a year, to keep busy. In May 1898, the company made an announcement that it planned to build a railroad inland from Knife river to access timber along the Knife River valley. The railroad was given the name Duluth & Northern Minnesota, but to just about everyone from that day forward it was known as the “Alger-Smith Line.”
The End of the Big Pine Era
It would seem to us today that it should have taken several decades to cut the extensive forests which covered our land, especially considering that hand saws and axes were the only tools used. With that in mind, it is hard to believe that within only ten years, the peak of lumber production was already reached and passed. The rate at which mills cut logs into lumber during the five years of 1900 was staggering. At its peak, the Alger-Smith Co. produced over 600,000 board feet a day in its two mills and employed 600 people. In the ten years between 1897 and 1906, Duluth alone shipped over 3.5 billion board feet of lumber from is mills, primarily to points east. Clearly, that level of harvesting could not go on forever. By 1908, lumber production for the area had already dropped severely, and the days of the big mills were slowly coming to an end. The large logging companies which had come here to cut white pine began to look elsewhere as soon as the big trees were gone. As the larger companies left heading for the uncut lands of Oregon and Washington, smaller, independent loggers moved in and began removing what timber still remained.
There is no exact date that can be set when the last of the big trees were cut, and the prime era of logging came to an end in our community. In fact, the legacy of logging, like commercial fishing, carries on to the present. We do know, however, that by 1919, Alger-Smith ended its cutting operations, and within a year from that date, all harvested trees had been transported to Knife River. For another year, it ran a limited number of trains as a passenger service only, bringing newly established homesteaders inland. By then it was clear the days of large-scale logging were over. On July 15, 1921, the Duluth & Northern Minnesota, the “Alger-Smith Line,” was given permission from the Interstate Commerce Commission to close its rail operations. The next two years saw the disappearance of nearly 500 miles of mainline and spurs which had once crisscrossed the Lake Superior region from our community virtually to the Canadian border. An influx of settlers began arriving, attracted by the newly-cleared land, bringing with them hopes and dreams much different than those of the loggers who had opened the area for them. The heyday of logging had ended. The land that for thousands of years had been held together by the tight intermingling of tree roots would not be planted in crops.