Friday, May 28, 2010

Grain Elevators part 2

Smith and Burtch eventually became friends as Smth’s health began to fail. In the 1890s Burtch even sold his elevator to Edwin Astley and took over operation of the Oat Elevator for Smith. About 1900 the Oat Elvevator caught fire in a blaze that was thought to have been ignited by the sparks from a passing train. The wooden building burned rapidly and even though the fire department responded promptly, low water pressure made it impossible to get water to the roof. The elevator was destroyed and was not rebuilt.

When Edwin Astley purchased the Burtch Elevator he built a second Bean Elevator adjacent to it. This was smaller with a capacity of only 5,000 bushels. About 1905 these elevators were sold to W.L. Ireland. Smith’s Wheat Elevator was sold as his health failed in the 1890s to John Walsh. Walsh would expand the evlevator to 16,000 bushels. In 1901 two brothers from Eagle Township purchased the elevator from Walsh and the well remembered firm of Doty & Doty was formed. The Dotys expanded the capacity of the elevator and began dealing in fuel products like wood and coals.

dotyelevator

It is said there was a friendly competition between the two elevator companies. Farmers would bring their wagons full of grain to the corner of Clinton and Union Streets and then the Dotys and W.L Ireland would come out and bid for the wagonload. Whoever offered the best price would get the grain. This competition ended in 1921 when the two merged to form the Grand Ledge Produce Company.

Up until around 1905, all of these grain elevators relied on horse power-- from real horses. They each had one-storey wings in the back where the horses were put to work. Two to four horses we be harnessed to a wheel. As the horses walked around in a circle, the wheel would turn large gears that would pull ropes and belts to power the elevator’s machinery. Horses were eventually replaced with steam or gasoline engines.

Grain Elevators part 1

For over a century, Grand Ledge was the agricultural hub for area farmers. After the arrival of the railroad in 1869, grain from area fields was brought here and shipped to far away markets.

George Smith seems to have started it all. Smith was born in 1834 in New York and came to Michigan in the early 1860s. The Smith family lived at 124 McMillan, one of the few homes on the Street at the time. He was an enterprising young farmer who decided to get into the grain business.

Between 1870 and 1873 Smith built two grain elevators. His Wheat Elevator, still standing today, was built on Clinton Street next to the rail lines. This originally had a capacity of 11,000 bushels. He also built an Oat Elevator across the road on the other side of the tracks. This was smaller with a capacity of 7,000 bushels.

In about 1885 Smith got competition from John M. Burtch. He built the Farmers Pride Elevator on Union Street a little way down from the corner of Clinton Street. This had a capacity of 12,000 bushels. John Burtch was a well known character and had the nickname “Skunk Skin John” since he also dealt in furs and pelts. He lived at this time in the brick home at 114 E. Front, which was just above the old flour mill.

In 1922 Valorus Kent wrote about the pair: “Mr Smith and John Burtch were always in strong competition in the grain line and became so antagonistic that several times they came to blows. Mr smith finally became so disgusted with John that when he would meet him he wouldn’t speak to him, but just lift his coat tails and pat his pants.”

One day when V. Kent was taking a load of grain down Bridge Street, Burtch came running along and jumped on the wagon. “John says: ‘Lo, have you heard Skunkie’s latest?’ Now John, with the rest of his accomplishments was quite a poet. He says: ‘There is Skunk Skin John lives on the hill. His hole is just over the mill. There’s old Hog Eye Smith lives over back. For 10 long years he has been on Skunkie’s track. But now he’s getting old and lame and lifts his coat tail to pat his brains’ “

The homes of Edmund Lampson

Edmund Lampson, our First Permanent Settler, was famous for having three homes over the years.

In the summer of 1847 Edmund Lampson arrived here with his family. As far as the eye could see was dense virgin timber. It is said that the trees grew so close together, that the fist branches could be sixty feet from the ground or more. Out of this dark forest, Edmund built his first home, a log cabin.

Long remembered in local tales, the cabin was called “the Siamese Twins” because it looked like two cabins joined together along their length. This First Lampson home was built in a little clearing located at what is today the corner of Pleasant and Maple Streets. On the lot occupied by 428 Pleasant today, the Lampson House, facing Maple Street, stood right up against the corner curb. I can image a cabin in the woods; gradually as children and pets ran to and fro, paths begin to develop alongside its walls, just feet from the building. In later years these paths would become streets. It can truly be said that Pleasant and Maple was the first intersection in Grand Ledge.

In the mid-1860s Lampson, now a widower, married for a second time. Soon thereafter he built his Second Home. This larger two-story house was located at 406 West Jefferson. This home would later be occupied by his daughter, Mary and her husband Ephraim Wallace and family. Around 1910 they added stucco to the house. In about 1922 the home was torn down and the current house was built for Jonas Sawdon, our beloved long-time school superintendant.

Edmund Lampson, like many of his fellow pioneers, continued to prosper in farming, real estate and business enterprises. He built a large steam-power saw mill overlooking the river in the 300 block of West Jefferson, just east of his home.

By the mid-1870s Edmund Lampson was in his 70s and enjoying the fruits of his long labors. He had become prosperous and was esteemed by his neighbors. He had served as the first President of the Village and as Justice of the Peace. During this time, he moved into his Third House he had built directly across the street. This home was located in a picturesque grove at the corner of Spring and West Jefferson. It was constructed just west of a natural spring-fed pond. It was this pond that gave Spring Street its name. The home even featured a walkout basement leading down to the water’s edge. At some later time, the pond was filled in and a more extensive yard created.

This grand gothic-style house at 405 West Jefferson was one of the largest homes in town when it was new. It occupied the same block as his original log cabin. In fact at the time his old log cabin was still in use. One can only imagine the sense of pride of being able to look out from your fine new home at the humble log cabin that had started it all 30 years before. Edmund lived there until his death in 1889.

Mineral Wells

From 1860 to 1890, Grand Ledge was known for its Bathing Houses. Mineral water was very popular at the time and was felt to be a curative for all manner of illness. Much like we bath in Epsom Salt today, Mineral Baths were used to ease joint pain, muscle strain and skin rashes. Grand Ledge, Eaton Rapids and other Michigan cities, offered baths for 50 cents each.

An 1880 account tells us: “During the excitement consequent upon the discovery of petroleum in Pennsylvania, when it was supposed probable that the wealth-producing article could be found anywhere if bored for, the wave rolled over the people of Grand Ledge, and a company was formed to sink a well at this place. The work was performed, but nothing but water of a curious taste rewarded their efforts, although it flowed in as great quantities as they could wish the oil to have done.

Finally, it was discovered that the water possessed medicinal properties, and a large bathing-house was built and Dr. A. R. Ball, now of Corunna, Shiawassee Co., a homoeopathic physician, had charge of it. This well, which is still flowing, is located near the eastern limits of the corporation, on the south side of the river. Three other wells have since been sunk, nearer the business portion of the village. One of these, on an island a short distance below the bridge, is 156 feet deep, and another, at the Mineral House, on the north side of the river, has a depth of 196 feet. The taste of the water from the island well indicates that it is principally charged with iron and sulphur; an analysis has not yet been made.”

It seems that five wells were drilled in all. The first was near the corner of E. River and Franklin Streets. It was near this that the first bathing house was established. By 1872, this enterprise was owned by George Cheney, who also ran a dairy farm and cheese factory in the area of what is today Belknap Street.

Later wells were drilled downtown. One well near the corner of S. Bridge and E. River supported a bath house that was located near where the Barn Tavern is today. C.W. Ingalls of Ionia was its proprietor. Another well could be found near the corner of W. River and Harrison. This well gave rise to a bath house and restaurant on the corner that was in operation for many years.

On the northside, a well was drilled at the corner of N. Bridge and W. Front, where the Lick-Ity Split stands today. This well accompanied a large three-story hotel and bath house known as the Dennison House and later the Mineral House.

Finally, a few years later another well was drilled on First Island for the enjoyment of the Island Resort patrons. In 1880 it was noted “There is a fine mineral spring on one of the islands, said to possess curative properties of a high order, and invalids looking for a place to spend the hot months will find the Seven Islands offer superior inducements."

Mills

As construction of the Upper Dam was nearing completion in August 1849, work commenced on the adjacent saw mill. Lumber for its construction was being sawed by Charles Butler in Dela Mills as this was the closest mill in operation. Once the order was complete there was only one way to get the lumber to Grand Ledge. The wood was bundled into a raft, and an Indian named “Duck” was hired to float the raft to its destination.

With the lumber under control, the men now turned to the needed iron castings. The firm of Turner Brothers in North Lansing got the contract. Once completed they were also rafted down the river to Grand Ledge, once again most likely with the help of “Duck”. The iron work was in a raw state and still needed to be drilled and fitting together. The only man who could do the work was Robert Nixon. He lived at Canada Settlement, four miles south on what is today Hartel Road. He has his own blacksmith shop and was able to do the work. So the ironwork was put on carts and dragged through the dense forest to his farm.

By December of 1849 the mill was finally complete and local trees turned into fine quality lumber. In 1850 the mill got a large order from an eastern company. Once completed the lumber was rafted down the river to Grand Haven. The contract was for 50,000 board feet of cherry at $12 per thousand feet.

In 1851 the saw mill got an order from the firm of Wood, Allen and Taylor. These local men were to build a flour mill on the north end of the dam. The site on the river bank was clear of its trees and the two story mill was soon erected. Turner Brothers again got the contract for the mill castings, however by this time a rough road had been cut through the forest.

David Taylor and his team of oxen carried all the castings from North Lansing to the flour mill. It was arduous work. It took many trips and the castings were extremely heavy. The wagon created deep ruts in the muddy road as they went. On one trip they were hauling the large spur wheel which weighed 1,500 pounds. In this case the trip back from Lansing took two days. The oxen had to pull the wagon through all the ruts made on previous journeys, and many times fell to their knees with the strain.

Once they finally reached Grand Ledge, the iron work had to be loaded on rafts and floated across to the north bank, there was still no bridge built at this time. The mill was finished in late 1851. Warren Brown was hired as the miller. The following year a great flood did terrible damage, and the mill was not repaired and put back into operation until 1853.

Dams

With the current interest in repairing or removing the dam, it is a good time to look back at the history of dams in Grand Ledge.

UPPER DAM

The first dam to span the river here in Grand Ledge was located just upstream from the bridge. In the spring of 1849 John Russell, his nephew David Taylor, and his brother-in-law Abram Smith, met in the Russell log cabin, west of town. The trio formed a company for the purpose of building a saw mill downtown and a dam to power it. They purchased 2 acres in the middle of the dense forest from Henry Trench, right below where the Opera House now stands. The parcel included a roofless, half finished shanty that the men completed. This was used as a bunk house for the men, about 30 of them, who were hired from Delta, Oneida and surround areas to do the work.

The dam was begun first. It was built of compacted stone, dirt and clay. Clay for the dam was dug from a pit in the 600 block of East Jefferson. A decade later, this clay pit would provide the material for the Loveless Pottery on Franklin Street. By August, the dam was completed.

The dam’s mill pond rose higher and flooded much of what we call JayCee Park today. This water provided power for a saw mill on the south bank and a flour mill on the northside. By 1910 the saw mill was gone, and the flour mill was torn down c1918. With the dam no longer needed, it was removed in the 1920s.

LOWER DAM

The Lower Dam or Stone Dam was begun in about 1878 by S. M.. Hewings, who owned the Seven Islands Resort downtown. He had a notion to have steamboats travel up and down The Grand for his resort. In order to get deeper water for his steamer, and for row boats he rented to the public, he built a temporary dam near the site of the present dam. This was crudely made of logs with stone fill. The top layers of the dam would be removed in the Spring to allow for the flow of ice.

In 1887 J.S. Mudge, the new owner of the Seven Islands Resort, replaced the temporary Hewings dam with a permanent Stone Dam. He also wanted to create a deep body of water for pleasure boating and swimming. Not only did this provide the water depth he wanted, but he also promoted this as the perfect fishing spot. Many anglers fished from the rocks near the shore or propped their boats right on the edge of the dam itself. The City acquired the dam when they purchased all the Resort property, including the seven river islands, in the 1930s.

A few decades after it was built, a large flat bank on the northside was dug up and replaced with the Dam Gates we see today. This allowed more control of the water level. These were originally covered by a Dam House to keep people off the gates. Sometime in the 1960s, The City wanted the House removed. My grandfather, Vic Haueter Sr, and his brother Mutt, who both owned property just above the dam, got the job of removal in exchange for keeping the building. I remember him telling me they used a tractor to pull the building up the bank. It is my suspicion that the Dam House was converted into a storage shed for my Uncle Mutt.

Whats in a name?

There has been an ongoing debate about the accurate names of Grand Ledge’s first two settlers. For decades we have second guessed ourselves as to the correct spelling. Sometimes cursive writing of the past can be difficult to read. However, with careful research of the handwritten documents, I was finally able to answer the question: What’s in a name?

Lampson or Lamson?

Edmund Lampson arrived in 1848, our First Permanent Settler. He owned over 160 acres along West Jefferson and the West side of town. Even during his lifetime, there was confusion over his last name. He was born Lampson, and used that name for many years. Early census records confirm this usage. However, as he got older, he began to switch to the Lamson spelling. In the directory of 1873, the editor hedged his bet by listing him as “Edmund S. Lampson (Lamson)”. Likewise, a decade later, a biographer described him as Edmund Lamson, the son of E. Lampson.

However in legal and official papers, he remained Lampson. In 1867 when he added several blocks to the city, it was under the name of The Lampson Addition. The centerpiece of this development was Lampson Street. After his death in 1889, much of his farm became neighborhoods off of West Jefferson Street. These were sold by the “Estate of E. Lampson”. Yet at the same time, his gravestone reads “Lamson”

Over the years, both versions of his name have been used. In a final ironic twist, the street that bares his name has in recent decades come to be re-spelled “Lamson Street”.

Trench or French?

Henry A. Trench was the first to settle, in c.1843, at what would become Grand Ledge. He was a highly educated man, but also restless and looking for solitude. He finally left Michigan in the 1860s, when he felt the area was too crowded. He was born Henry French in c1817. After completing college, he journeyed into the wild frontier of Michigan with only his wife, leaving not only his education, but also his name, behind him.

Although the Censuses of 1840 & 1850 list him as Henry French, to his Michigan neighbors he was always known as Henry Trench. We have several accounts written by men who knew him personally, and they all agree on this. Henry even wrote essays for the newspaper and signed them “H.A.T.”

Beginning with the Census of 1860, he was listed as Henry Trench. Even after he left Michigan and returned to Connecticut with his family, he remained Trench in all the records. Of his four children, some eventually retuned their last name to French, however Henry and his son Ira, kept using the name Trench for the rest of their lives.

When I refer to these two prominent pioneers, I use Lampson and Trench. Edmund Lampson used this name when he added neighborhoods to the city, so that is what I choose to use. Henry Trench used this name among his fellow settlers, and indeed for his life thereafter.

As a side note – While researching, I shared some of the information in this column with Lorabeth Fitzgerald last year, just weeks before her death. I am sorry she never got to read the final version.