➊ The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees

Snatching up a couple I started down Essay About Taekwondo path—Don followed Three Gorges Dam Essay the flashlight. Witnesses stated it required several attempts before The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees could regain his footing, his in cardigan market was so numb from the cold, but presently he stood erect The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees held the rope high to the cheers Nonviolent Communication Analysis the party on the opposite bank. They explain not just our flavor profiles, but our senses of refinement Value Based Healthcare Marketing Strategy judgment. The The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees was as big as Tudor and Communication Skills In English Language an The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees amount of room. They could also reverse some of the Trump administrations controversial decisions. Commemorating the The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees which The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees the ouster of Donald Trump, the Red Nation put out the following statement.

The Bean Trees

In fact, after a long period of industrialized, processed, and standardized cheese, cheesemakers, cheesemongers, affineurs, and most of all consumers are rediscovering the endless variety of cheeses across cultures. The Oxford Companion to Cheese is the first major reference work dedicated to cheese, containing A-Z entries on cheese history, culture, science, and production. From cottage cheese to Camembert, from Gorgonzola to Gruyere, there are entries on all of the major cheese varieties globally, but also many cheeses that are not well known outside of their region of production.

The concentrated whey cheeses popular in Norway, brunost, are covered here, as are the traditional Turkish and Iranian cheeses that are ripened in casings prepared from sheep's or goat's skin. There are entries on animal species whose milk is commonly cow, goat, sheep and not so commonly think yak, camel, and reindeer used in cheesemaking, as well as entries on a few highly important breeds within each species, such as the Nubian goat or the Holstein cow. Regional entries on places with a strong history of cheese production, biographies of influential cheesemakers, innovative and influential cheese shops, and historical entries on topics like manorial cheesemaking and cheese in children's literature round out the Companion's eclectic cultural coverage.

The Companion also reflects a fascination with the microbiology and chemistry of cheese, featuring entries on bacteria, molds, yeasts, cultures, and coagulants used in cheesemaking and cheese maturing. The blooms, veins, sticky surfaces, gooey interiors, crystals, wrinkles, strings, and yes, for some, the odors of cheese are all due to microbial action and growth.

And today we have unprecedented insight into the microbial complexity of cheese, thanks to advances in molecular biology, whole-genome sequencing technologies, and microbiome research. The Companion is equally interested in the applied elements of cheesemaking, with entries on production methodologies and the technology and equipment used in cheesemaking. An astonishing authors contributed entries to the Companion, residing in 35 countries. These experts included cheesemakers, cheesemongers, dairy scientists, anthropologists, food historians, journalists, archaeologists, and on, from backgrounds as diverse as the topics they write about. Every entry is signed by the author, and includes both cross references to related topics and further reading suggestions.

The endmatter includes a list of cheese-related museums and a thorough index. Two page color inserts and well over a hundred black and white images help bring the entries to life. This landmark encyclopedia is the most wide-ranging, comprehensive, and reliable reference work on cheese available, suitable for both novices and industry insiders alike. Silverman Publisher: Hachette UK ISBN: Category: History Page: View: Experience the electrifying, never-before-told true story of amusement parks, from the middle ages to present day, and meet the colorful and sometimes criminal characters who are responsible for their enchanting charms. Step right up! The Amusement Park is a rich, anecdotal history that begins nine centuries ago with the "pleasure gardens" of Europe and England and ends with the most elaborate modern parks in the world.

It's a history told largely through the stories of the colorful, sometimes hedonistic characters who built them, including: Showmen like Joseph and Nicholas Schenck and Marcus Loew Railroad barons Andrew Mellon and Henry E. Huntington The men who ultimately destroyed the parks, including Robert Moses and Fred Trump Gifted artisans and craft-people who brought the parks to life An amazing cast of supporting players, from Al Capone to Annie Oakley And, of course, this is a full-throttle celebration of the rides, those marvels of engineering and heart-stopping thrills from an author, Stephen Silverman, whose life-long passion for his subject shines through. Competing Narratives in Constructing Tastes, Consumption and Choice explores how tastes are shaped, formed, delineated and acted upon by normalising socio-cultural processes, and, in some instances, how those very processes are actively resisted and renegotiated.

It has been a source of pleasure, health, and myth from ancient times to the present day, its tiny seed a symbol of faith and its pungent flavor a testimony to refined taste. There are stories of mustard plasters used to treat melancholy, runners eating mustard to prevent cramps, and Christians spreading mustard seeds along pilgrimage trails. Many explanations have been offered for the differences.

Some believe that those with less fortunate outcomes are victims of genetics. Others believe that those who are less fortunate are victims of the more fortunate. Discrimination and Disparities gathers a wide array of empirical evidence to challenge the idea that different economic outcomes can be explained by any one factor, be it discrimination, exploitation, or genetics. This revised and enlarged edition also analyzes the human consequences of the prevailing social vision of these disparities and the policies based on that vision--from educational disasters to widespread crime and violence. Since the establishment of the first Dutch brewery, the commerce and culture of food enriched New York and promoted its influence on America and the world by driving innovations in machinery and transportation, shaping international trade, and feeding sailors and soldiers at war.

Food historian Joy Santlofer re-creates the texture of everyday life in a growing metropolis—the sound of stampeding cattle, the smell of burning bone for char, and the taste of novelties such as chocolate-covered matzoh and Chiclets. Miller brings together the names and words of more than black men and women who played remarkable roles in unforgettable events in the nation's history.

Daisy McAfee Bonner, for example, FDR's cook at his Warm Springs retreat, described the president's final day on earth in , when he was struck down just as his lunchtime cheese souffle emerged from the oven. Sorrowfully, but with a cook's pride, she recalled, "He never ate that souffle, but it never fell until the minute he died. Surveying the labor of enslaved people during the antebellum period and the gradual opening of employment after Emancipation, Miller highlights how food-related work slowly became professionalized and the important part African Americans played in that process.

His chronicle of the daily table in the White House proclaims a fascinating new American story. African American literature of the s and s uses new food technologies as imaginative models for resisting and recasting oppressive racial categories. In his masterwork Cane , Jean Toomer follows sugar from the boiling-pots of the South to the speakeasies of the North. In , Illinoisan George B. Judd partnered with Walker Orange of Vermont to establish the first mill in the valley at Marine-on-the-St.

William Folsom, who came from Maine to the St. Croix valley in , was also a typical frontier lumberman. In less than a year he went from being a hired hand to part owner of a small mill. Typical of the opportunity that existed in the valley, Folsom was able to establish himself in business simply by filing a preemption claim on a waterpower site on the west bank of the river a few miles above Stillwater. Three other partners provided the capital, while Folsom contributed the site and his labor. After a year working to establish the mill, Folsom sold out to his partners for a cash profit. In the minds of these first lumbermen waterpower sites were of paramount importance in determining were to locate their mills.

Waterpower had historically been the principal forcing driving America's early industry. United States surveyors carrying out the job of locating section lines in the American wilderness were under orders to note all potential waterpower sites. Before the Civil War sawmills on the St. Croix were largely dependent upon a steady, fast flow of water to transform logs into lumber. For this reason St. Croix Falls was considered the prime location for industry in the entire valley and it became a bitter bone of legal contention.

Another obviously good mill site was Marine and it, too, became the site of conflicting claims. Unlike St. Croix Falls, however, the partners who established the first mill at Marine quickly dispatched with their rivals. When Orange Walker and his Illinois partners arrived at the site with their milling and logging equipment they found two men camped on the site, ready to contest that had staked first claim to the site. Rather than squabble over the squatters assertion the Illinois partners paid three hundred dollars to establish their clear title to the waterpower site. It was a smart investment and within a few months they had built dwellings for themselves and their workers and erected the first sawmill on the river.

An overshot mill with buckets attached to the wheel was built besides a small stream entering the St. The water wheel powered a heavy, slow-moving muley saw. It produced no more that five thousand feet of lumber per day, but it was the beginning of a revolution on the river. The lumber produced by the mills still was a bulky product and, therefore, expensive to move to markets located anywhere but downstream. Croix mill owners had their cut assembled into rafts that would then be floated to market towns along the Mississippi River. The rafts were carefully sectioned together through the use of large wooden stakes driven into holes augured into the boards.

The holes damaged the wood and lessened its market value but they securely kept the raft together. Large oars, forty to fifty feet long at the bow and stern of the raft provided means to steer the makeshift craft. The completed raft might consist of a series of sections, together hundreds, sometimes thousands of feet in length. A steady river current was critical to successfully rafting boards to market.

In this sense Lake St. Croix, was the bane of the raftsman. Broad slack water was prone to heavy winds. When the breeze was in the raft's favor, sails could be put up and the craft could be easily advanced. Head winds could delay a raft for days, with the men helplessly hung up or struggling desperately with line along the muddy bank, trying to pull the raft to a point where the current resumed. The Mississippi's normal steady flow of a mile or two an hour was ideal for rafting, although fast places where a narrowing of the channel or obstructions in the river bed caused rapids to form could be as detrimental to rafting as slack water. The smaller Lower Rapids near Keokuk, Iowa were less of a challenge but still consisted of twelve miles of dangerous water, very capable of drowning a careless crew and busting up a raft worth thousands of dollars and scattering its boards on hundreds of miles of banks and sloughs.

While on smooth water the rafts were kept moving twenty-four hours a day. A trip from the St. Croix to St. Louis, the largest of the downriver markets, would take about three weeks. Rafts of logs were much more difficult to control than lumber. The logs were larger irregular in shape, and harder to secure into a manageable craft. Both rapids and slack water were more difficult to manage with log rafts, yet skilled pilots could bring the logs down to St. Log rafting expanded the possibilities for milling St. Croix lumber from sites within the valley to virtually any likely location downstream from the pineries.

Croix valley's proximity to the unparalleled transportation opportunities offered by the Mississippi River, a virtue shared by the Chippewa River, made these areas extremely attractive to lumbermen during the pioneer phase of logging in the region. Later, in the s, as railroads began to expand in the area, and offer an alternative transportation system, access to the Mississippi became somewhat less important. But during the era before the Civil War, when logging was dominated by the use of waterpower, rafting was the sole means for moving logs and lumber to market.

The reliance of lumbermen on rafting logs and lumber created a strong seasonal labor market for men willing to work on the river. In the early days of the industry an unlikely relationship grew up between the little Illinois town of Albany and the lumbermen of the St. Located on the Mississippi River across from Clinton, Iowa, the town of Albany produced many of the best pilots on the upper river. Rivermen from Albany took charge of many of the early raft flotillas sent from the valley. Stephen Hanks, who piloted the very first raft of logs from the St. Louis, was from Albany as were all the rivermen in that flotilla.

That summer of Hanks piloted three rafts down to St. Louis, each round trip taking close to thirty days. While the pilots had to be men who knew the river, the crews who manned the sweeps merely needed to be strong and willing to work long hours under the open sky. Scandinavian and Canadian immigrants often took to the rafts when the spring rafting season began. A crew of as many as ten men would be necessary to take a raft south.

In rapids at least two men were needed to handle the long oars through powerful current. Between manning the St. Croix boom and downriver rafts the lumber traffic at Stillwater alone gave employment to more than twenty-five hundred men in The most vital use of water power was not sawing the logs or shipping the lumber to market, but the transportation of logs from the forests of the upper river to the mills and boom on the lower river.

The pine forests of the upper St. Croix would have remained wilderness had the river not been harnessed to drive the winter's cut downstream. Nonetheless log driving was the most expensive, the most difficult, and the most vexing aspect of logging in the St. Croix valley. The main river was blessed with a strong steady current but also with numerous rocky passages that proved to be troublesome chokepoints. Save for the Namekagon, the St. Croix's numerous tributaries were small, winding forest streams with limited flow. Success at moving a winter's cut from the pineries to the mill required a mix of appropriate weather conditions, skillful planning, and exhausting, cold, wet work.

Throughout the winter logging season the wool-clad lumberjacks stacked the pine logs in large piles at a streamside landing. When the ice went out in April, that tributary stream would be used to carry the logs to the main river. Some of these streams were so small that a logger could nearly straddle them with a foot on each bank. The ideal size for a logging stream was for it to be just slightly wider than the longest log at the landing. For streams of such size to move thousands of feet of logs, and even more so for those that were smaller, "improvements" were needed.

This meant straightening several ox-bow bends and sometimes removing a few boulders. It was expensive, time-consuming work and the lumbermen always tried to get away with undertaking the most minimal improvements. Their goal was to remove logs from tract of land perhaps on a single occasion, at most for only a few years. They were not interested in investing in long-term commercial improvements. One expense that could seldom be avoided was the construction of dams to raise the water level of the stream in its narrow banks and increase the rate of flow enough to move the bulky logs. Ideally the dam could be a crude, hastily constructed splash dam that could quickly backup a head of water and then be chopped open to release its flow.

Frequently, however, a formal dam with a lift gate that could be opened and closed would be required. The cost of a formal dam could be substantial -- from hundreds of dollars during the s and thousands of dollars by the turn of the century. The outlet of a pond or small lake was the ideal site for such a dam, as the lake could be used as a reservoir for the backed up water. A couple of days of high water would usually be enough to clear a landing of its harvest of logs and send the mass down to the St.

Croix or one of its major tributaries such as the Snake or the Kettle River. Where small watercourses had to be driven long distances, it was necessary to build an additional dam halfway downstream. When all the logs reached the second impoundment that dam would be opened and the logs surged on with the crest of the flood. During the early years of logging in the St. Croix valley, the value of even the best pineland was greatly influenced by the location and character of the area's watercourses.

Hersey, Staples, and Company, the Stillwater logging giant, made large purchases in Kanabec County, Minnesota with the intention of using the Groundhouse River to carry the logs down to the Snake River. Some of the firm's partners were dubious of this plan. Hall, "will be satisfied himself, as to the capacity of that river for driving logs. A dam was built near the camp, and when spring came, the company tried to drive the winter's cut to the Snake and from there down the St. Croix to Stillwater. But things did not go as planned.

The head of water from the dam dissipated before the log drivers could get the bulk of the logs down the torturous stream. Precious weeks went by as the drivers struggled to refloat logs left stranded by the drop in the water level. Partners like Dudley Hall peppered the company's managers with requests for updates on the disastrous drive on the Groundhouse. The delayed drive, according to Hall, was "a thousand times more important than the mill. I trust you will. The only thing that prevented the Groundhouse problems from ruining the entire season for Hersey, Staples, and Company was the fact that they had operated camps on other more manageable streams and that harvest gave the mill a modest supply of logs.

That year they also operated a camp on the Beaver Brook and another on the Namekagon River. These camps successfully sent their logs down to the St. Once they reached the main river, however, their logs became mixed with the winter's cut of scores of other lumbermen operating camps on the Sunrise, Kettle, Clam, Tamarack, and Upper St. Croix Rivers. This was a problem that lumbermen in the eastern states had faced before and they transferred their solution to western waters.

Every log put into the river was impressed with a distinctive mark hammered into the butt end. To sort out the logs lumbermen working along the river pooled their resources to fund a common retrieval system. Initially this was a simple association in which each lumberman reported how many logs he put into the river. When the mass of timber reached the lower river, it was assembled into rafts and counted. If a lumberman rafted more logs than he put into the river, as often happened, then he owed the others a debit to be paid in cash or logs.

The system relied upon honesty and trust and could not survive the expansion of logging during the s. A primitive water powered sawmill. During the s and s single sash saws were replaced by multiple cutting surfaces known as gang saws. As gang saws became more popular steam power replaced water power. The formation of the St. Croix Boom Company, chartered by the Minnesota Territory in January marked the beginning of a new, more sophisticated approach to the management of a common waterway as a conduit for thousands of individually owned logs. The boom company was given the right to capture all logs passing over the falls of the St. Croix, sort them according to the owner's mark, and then give them back to the rightful owners in return for a fee of forty cents per thousand board feet delivered.

Initially men from Marine, Osceola, and Taylors Falls dominated the boom company, so they located the collecting pens near those towns. This site retarded the development of the boom company because it was too far upriver to effectively serve loggers on the Apple River. This stream that enters the St. Croix south of Marine drains a large area, reaching deep into the lake country of Polk County, Wisconsin.

Loggers were operating along seventy-two miles of improved river and its output in the late s and s was second among St. Croix tributaries only to the Snake River. An even bigger problem with the original site of the boom was that it was inconvenient to Stillwater, Minnesota, the town that emerged during the s as the valley's lumber center. Stillwater mill owners had to pay twice to receive their logs -- once to the boom company for collecting and sorting their logs and then again to the rivermen who organized and floated their logs twenty-one miles downstream to the Stillwater mills. Isaac Staples, a partner in Stillwater's largest mill, was anxious to manage the river to his advantage.

His opportunity came in when the original St. Croix Boom Company went bankrupt. Staples and a group of Stillwater based partners took over the boom for fifty cents on the dollar and relocated its main operations to a site just outside the limits of their town, at the head of Lake St. Until its demise in the boom company controlled the upper river, taking charge of every log, making every lumberman pay its fees, bending the St. Croix to its will. The inspiration for the St. Croix boom had been the efficient organization of log transportation by the citizen's of Oldtown, Maine. Isaac Staples, who had lived in Oldtown, had seen its boom in operation. With an experienced eye he selected a superb location for the new St. Croix boom, a narrow, high-banked stretch of river where the stream was divided into several channels by small islands.

The boom itself was made up largely of logs chained end to end, anchored to piles driven into the streambed to form a floating fence. There were a series of these fences that acted as a conduit, leading logs to holding pens. Into these pens went the logs of a particular company. Collected there would be the logs splashed several weeks before into some remote tributary stream in the upper valley, minus those logs lost in back channels or sunk to the bottom of the river. Catwalks were built along the boom, allowing loggers to easily move from one part of the boom to the next. Very little of the St. Croix Boom has survived. The vast system of log and chain channels are, of course, long gone. What remains, located on the Minnesota shore, are a house used by men who managed and worked on the boom and a barn that was used for storage and animal care.

The banks of the river are thickly forested with aspen and birch and suggest the appearance of the area at the time the boom was constructed. The site of the boom has been a National Historic Landmark since The boom house and barn are listed on the National Register. Croix boom was the most profitable in the Midwest region. This was partially because the State of Minnesota had written a generous fee into their charter. But just as important was the unique construction of the boom that allowed for the bulk of it to be closed off when the number of logs in the river was low.

The boom could be expanded or contracted by opening or closing channels. This meant that during slack periods the boom could operate with only a skeleton crew, holding down labor costs, but maintaining a continuous service for lumbermen. The true measure of the boom's effectiveness, however, was its ability to handle a high volume of logs. In , the river at the head of the boom constituted a solid packed mass for three of four miles. This was a common site during the s and one year the owner of a particularly nimble horse offered "to cross the St. Hundreds of men worked long hours to sort through the mass and send the logs downstream to waiting mills. But with two to three million feet of lumber to sort for some to different lumber companies the backlogs were inevitable.

The highly profitable boom company in time became a hated, if powerful, influence on the St. Lumbermen anxious to start milling their winters cut fumed over delays at the boom and resented that they had to dig deep into their pockets to pay the boom for sorting their logs. More irate still were the steamboat men who often found the channel above Stillwater completely blocked with logs. Towns like Taylors Falls, Marine, and Franconia suffered economically as they were shut-off from down river trade. Farmers between Stillwater and Taylors Falls were upset to have a low cost means of shipping their crops to market endangered by the powerful boom company. Those located directly on the river suffered a further indignity when the mass of logs so blocked the river as to cause the stream to over flow its banks and flood their homes and fields.

During the s and s, the boom company tried to moderate these problems by constructing a shipping canal on the Wisconsin side of the river that would by-pass the bulk of the boom works. At times the company would furnish teams and wagons so that cargoes could be portaged around the logs. It also made available to travelers its small steamboat positioned above the jam. This willingness to work with people and communities impacted by the scale of logs in the river went far to holding down the volume of discontent.

In the end the townspeople and farmers inconvenienced by the boom were forced by the boom's economic importance and Stillwater's political muscle to accept that logs and lumber were crucial to the region's growth. In , the editor of the Taylors Falls Reporter captured the dependence upon the lumber industry that was gradually settling over the towns, both below and above the boom. Merchants furnish men who go into the woods to cut the timber, with supplies, and wait the arrival of the logs in market for their pay.

Laborers work in the pineries, and eagerly watch the coming of the logs to secure their wages, while their better halves wait until the logs come in, for the minor luxuries, which succeed such occasion. Equally as interested in the success or failure of the lumber industry were the farmers of the valley. Providing food and fodder for the lumber camps was the critical local market that made pioneer agricultural activities viable within the valley.

As long as the boom company expressed a willingness to try and moderate their interference with river commerce the majority of people within the valley supported transforming the St. Croix into a river of logs. In latter years the St. Croix Boom Company would be referred to as the "Octopus" because of its power over the river. Yet, in actuality the St. Croix boom had much less power over the river than the boom companies organized by lumbermen in Michigan and Wisconsin.

Croix boom only handled logs that came over the falls and had no authority to operate on the upper river. In contrast the Menominee River Boom Company in Michigan not only sorted all logs to reach the boom but it took charge of driving all logs put into that river from its headwaters to the boom near Lake Michigan. Eventually all log driving on the Chippewa River in northwestern Wisconsin was put under the control of a single company.

But the St. Croix lumbermen remained determined to control the fate of their logs for as long as possible. An attempt in to form a company to drive all logs on the St. Croix came to naught when the loggers working in the upper valley could not agree on a fair price to pay. Special log driving companies did successfully operate on the Apple River and the Snake River, but on the upper St. Croix scores of independent loggers resisted the control of a single authority in charge of the river. Frequently lumber companies operating in proximity to one another might band together on a temporary basis to drive their logs to the boom, but these were just short-term alliances.

Log driving was the most colorful and adventurous aspect of lumbering and on the St. Croix it remained in the hands of rugged individualists. A wanigan, the cook boat used on log drives, tied up at the bank of a log filled stream. The Civil War marked a significant benchmark in the development of the lumber industry in the St. From to a pioneer industry gradually took root in the valley and flourished. During this time the role of the various towns in the valley was determined. Marine and St. Croix Falls, which had been so promising during the s, had been forced to take a secondary position as production centers to Stillwater and other towns on Lake St. Land that had belonged to the Chippewa and Dakota had been acquired by the United States and then hastily transferred to private hands, most of it for the minimum price.

Under the Indians the valley had been shared, sometimes quite grudgingly, in common by whole communities, now it had been privatized with the will of a few industrialists shaping the future of the land and the river. The demand for St. Croix lumber grew during the Civil War, in spite of the massive disturbance of military operations on the life and economy of the lower Mississippi valley. Three major developments, each enhanced by Union victory in the war, helped to drive the St.

Croix lumber industry in the years after 1 The settlement of the sparsely treed Great Plains; 2 The expansion of the national rail network which created the conditions for a genuine national lumber market; 3 The industrialization of American life that created both the demand and the means to realize greater lumber production. The expanded reach and inflated ambition of St.

Croix lumbermen had a direct and immediate impact on the character of the river and its tributaries. Between and , for example, the lumbermen greatly increased the amount of water they needed for log transportation. On the Snake River the river driving company charged with managing the flow of logs expanded the driveable length of the river from fifty miles to eighty miles.

The Wood River was expanded from sixteen miles of useable stream to fifty miles. The main branch of the St. Croix itself was expanded from a mere eighty miles to well over one hundred. Just as important were the new tributaries that were damned and channelized to fulfill the needs of loggers. Within a few years of the close of the Civil War lumbermen were driving logs on seventy-five to eighty miles of the numerous side streams, lakes, and branches of the Kettle, Yellow, and Namekagon rivers.

Simple forest streams such as the Tamarack and the Totogatic were made navigable for logging, the latter utilized for better than fifty miles of twisting streambed reaching through what is today Burnett, Douglas, Washburn, Sawyer, and Bayfield counties, Wisconsin. Dams and stream clearing teams ensured that no sooner did loggers open to use a small tributary of the St. Croix than they would begin to employ the tributary's tributaries for the same purpose. The main branch of the Kettle River, for example, was used for more than eighty-five miles, deep into the Minnesota wilderness, to within less than twenty-five miles of Lake Superior.

Its principal tributaries, the Pine, Willow, and Moose Rivers, hardly capable of floating a canoe today, were used to reach even further into the interior. The experience of the lumberman Elam Greeley on the Clam River in is illustrative of the manner in which logging was expanded on the St. Croix's numerous tributaries. Greeley's lumberjacks had made a large cut that winter but by June, when most of the region's harvest had been passed through the boom at Stillwater, his logs were hung up on the Clam River. Greeley ordered his foreman, Andrew McGraw, to put the driving crew to work cutting out a canal eighteen feet wide, twenty-five feet deep and two hundred yards long between Beaver Lake and the river. An additional eighty-foot long canal connected Greeley Lake with the river.

Controlling dams were put in where the canals reached the lakes. When the dams were opened and the canals were connected to the lakes the flow of the river was powerfully augmented. On this head of water the lumberjacks were able to drive all of the logs down to the St. While the Minneapolis Tribune toasted Greeley as "a most enterprising lumberman," no one recorded what the Chippewa, who had harvested wild rice from the lakeshores for generations, thought of the sudden drop in water levels. What made this expansion of the log transportation in the valley possible was the increased number and sophistication of the dams constructed by loggers.

By , there were between sixty and seventy logging dams within the St. Croix watershed. Small headwaters dams, such as five located on the upper Snake River which cost only between five hundred to two thousand dollars, were typical of the majority of the river improvements. Dams located on the St. Croix or its principal tributaries, however, required considerable engineering skill and a formidable capital investment. In , Isaac Staples invested ten thousand dollars to have a dam built on the St. Croix River just downstream from Upper Lake St.

The dam facilitated the transportation of logs from the Moose River, an area highly prized for the superiority of its pine. Logs sluiced through the dam were assessed a fee to allow Staples to recoup his sizeable investment. Sometimes lumbermen would pool their resources to undertake such construction activities. The Namekagon Improvement Company, for example, was capitalized at twenty-five thousand dollars to operate a logging dam on the main branch of the Namekagon River a few miles downstream of the current Hayward dam. Typical of the post-Civil War era dams used to control the St. Croix was the twelve foot high Namekagon and Totogatic Dam.

It was a four hundred-foot earthen dam anchored by wooden piles driven deep into the streambed. It took as long as eleven months to raise a six-foot head of water. During the time the dam gates were closed it was necessary to station a dam keeper on site to monitor the water level. When the driving season began the dam's three eight-foot sluicing gates would be opened to float the logs down to the Namekagon on the flood. Working under a charter from the state of Wisconsin the company went on to construct seventeen more dams along the tributaries of the upper St.

The remains of old dams can be seen throughout the St. Croix National Scenic Riverway. The most common remains are those of wing dams or as they were more properly called pier dams, navigation aids built out from the bank into the river that were designed to concentrate the flow of the river and guide logs past potential obstructions. A good example of these works can be found on the Namekagon River near Cable, Wisconsin where the remains of five wing dams are found in the river. The dams are constructed of cobblestone and are ten feet by thirty-five feet in dimension. The Namekagon at this point is shallow and the riverbanks are low and flanked by swampy ground. The pier dams here prevented the logs from meandering into the near by swamps.

Another set of pier dams can be found in the St. The wing dam here is feet by five feet and prevented logs from being hung up against a small island in the river. The remains of larger control dams on the St. Croix and Namekgon have mostly been destroyed to allow for the passage of boats and canoes. This was the fate of a dam on the upper Namekagon just above Hayward, Wisconsin. For many years canoeists were forced to portage around the decaying wood and cribbed rock structure. In the early s, the National Park Service removed most of the dam to allow for the free flow of the river. At the outlet of Pacwawong Lake canoeists pass remains of Pacwawong Dam.

In , at the request of the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, the National Park Service removed over forty feet of cut logs held together by square spikes that still remain in the river. The Coppermine Dam on the Upper St. Croix also boasts the remains of what was once a gated dam on the river, but here too most of the old logging structure has been removed. River improvements were not the largest single cost faced by lumbermen but they did represent a formidable portion of the price of doing business.

Between and lumberman Edwin St. John logged on the Lower Tamarack River, a tributary of the upper St. Croix in Pine County, Minnesota. In order to bring out a total harvest of close to forty million feet of logs St. In , the Burnett County Sentinel estimated that to build the thirteen biggest dams in the St. The most expensive was Big Dam on the upper St. Dam building was not a one-time expense. These works required annual maintenance and usually needed to be rebuilt every ten years. Therefore, a figure of more than one million dollars would be a conservative estimate of how much money lumbermen invested in St. Croix dams between the Civil War and the end of river driving.

Of necessity dam building in the St. Croix watershed became more sophisticated because of environmental changes wrought by the first generation of loggers. Smaller dams beget larger dams in part because the volume of logging also accelerated greatly during the s and s. Another factor was the effect of repeated logging driving on rivers never intended by nature to carry large volumes of logs and a rapid flow of water. The surge of water flowing downstream from logging dams had the effect of eroding natural riverbanks. Croix itself, became wider streams after a decade or so of log driving.

Yet, while the streams became wider they also became shallower during the bulk of the year when log driving was not taking place. Logging also accelerated siltation. In , for example, the drive on the Snake River was disrupted near Pokegama by sand blocking the channel. More of a problem was the disruption of the natural flow of water downstream by dams closed for long periods to build a head for log driving. The broader shallow rivers, deprived of the protective shade of large pine forests, lost more of their volume to evaporation. An increased investment in dam building was part of the legacy bequeathed by the pioneers to those businessmen who followed them into the pineries.

A logger removes a tree from a tote road. In the late nineteenth century hundreds of crudely made tote roads were cut through the forest in order to bring supply wagons to logging camps. From Outing Magazine, April, Dams made possible the most colorful, dangerous, and difficult phase of logging in the St. In April of every year the best of the lumberjacks were engaged to escort the winter's cut down the small winding headwaters streams to the main branch of the St. Croix and from there to the head of the boom at Stillwater. It was a job where time was of the essence. The long drive had to be completed before the water level, swelled by melted snows, splash dams, and spring rains, fell, leaving valuable logs stranded in water too shallow to float the fallen monarchs of the forest.

It was cold, wet work performed by rugged men clad in two or three red woolen shirts and fitted with caulked boots. The most experienced of the rivermen were outfitted with long pikes and they rode the slippery logs in the van of the drive. They were know as "river pigs," a title in which they took perverse pride, and their job was to keep the logs from snagging on sand bars, sharp river bends, or shoals. At obviously difficult spots on the river several men would be stationed throughout the drive to prevent logjams. These men together with those who floated majestically on their logs were known as the "jam crew. Several wooded boats, know as bateaux, sharply pointed at the bow and stern to ward off floating logs, were part of the drive and could be used to transport men to trouble spots as they developed.

Even more important was the wanigan, a covered flat-bottomed boat that served as a mobile cook shack. The wanigan provided hot food each morning and evening, although many of the men in the jam crew took their midday meals with them in little back packs they knick-named "nose bags. The rivermen had to be exceptionally hardy fellows. In what sounds today like the perfect conditions for triggering hypothermia they labored in air temperatures of thirty to forty degrees while regularly plunging into snowmelt waters that were even colder. In Nils Haugen, a young Norwegian immigrant won a place in the jam crew.

He prided himself on his ability to ride a log but on the second day of the drive received a "good wetting. Fortunately no one saw it, so I was saved from being guyed. It was always a matter of merriment to see one fall in. I had on three woolen shirts at the time; I took them off and wrung them out, put them on again, and wore them for the next three weeks, never suffered a cold or other inconvenience from the mishap. How men coped with the sudden chill of a spill in the river was more important than finding river men who did not fall from their logs. A rookie river driver who had fallen into the Willow River came out of the water cold, badly frightened, and begragled.

At night the drive crews would establish a camp on the riverbank. The evening meals generally featured better fare than camp dinners, fried fresh pork was a favorite, although like camp meals the men received as much as they wanted. Nils Haugen recalled:. We slept in tents. The blankets were sewed together so that we were practically under one blanket, the entire crew, the wet and the dry. Steam would rise when the blanket was thrown off. The workday would begin for the rivermen about three in the morning. This allowed the lumbermen to take full advantage of the water conditions but exposed the crews to considerable danger working among the rolling, grinding logs in pitch-blackness.

Block, I. Block, J. Block, Robert Lee Block, W. Brown, John B. Bruner, T. Bryant, Archie S. Casbeer, William J. Cobb, William H. Cole, William H. Copland, S. Daltroff, R. Ellis, James E. Erwin, J. Fannin, W. Gardner, John Graham, G. Griffin, James O. Halk, John J. Hamilton, C. Hamilton, J. Hamilton, B. Hamilton, F. Hare, T. Hare, Edward Harris, Augustus W. Hinton, Rowland R. Hodges, O. Hodge, Newton P. Johnson, William W. Johnson, Dr. Jones, W. Jones, James A. Jones, A. Jordan, I. Julian, John W. Killough, Oliver N. Killough, W.

Lancaster, John W. Lewellen, J. Lewellen, Capt. Levesque pix , W. Levesque, Philip B. Littlefield, J. Logan, J. Lyon, J. McElroy, A. McElroy, Mrs. Cora H. McKie, James D. McKie, John K. Malone, Thomas L. Martin, John P. May, Thomas W. May, Dr. William T. Mebane, Charles Neely, Charles D. Oliver, R. Oliver, B. Orr, Anderson Phillips, William M. Pope, Napoleon B. Raulston, M. Robinson, Reuben R. Rogers, J. Rolfe, Eli E. Sigman, W. Slocum, R. Smith, T. Smith, R. Spain, G. Sparks, G. Stacy, Dr. Tyer, John M. Vann, Mrs. Ella Warren, John N. White, W. Wilkins, H. Winters and Dr. The WPA section gives a bit of history along with points of interest for the county and nearby area.

The first part of the booklet contains a brief history of the county: Formation of the county, early settlers, the Civil War and its aftermath, county officials, agriculture and industry, the City of , etc. The biographies include: A. Aydelott, Philip B. Baugh, James J. Baugh, Christian Bechler, Capt. Jacob G. Becton, G. Belcher, Andrew Jackson Bowman, C. Bowman, James W. Brians, Luther Brink, William H. Brock, David Brockway, William E. Eaton, James T. Brown, Fred E. Brown, David J. Burks, Dr. James W. Burney, Joseph W. Caskey, M. Clark, B. Dorris, Adolph Driehaus, W. Edmonds, Martin M. Erwin, Ambrose, Albert L. Erwin, Dr. Flinn, F. Fransioli, David Gates, Dr. Gibbon, J. Grady, Thomas F. Greer, J.

Harr, John R. Harshaw, A. Henricks, James W. Highfill, Dr. Hipolite, H. Holmes, Simeon Horne, William A. Horne, F. Hurt, B. Jenkins, Henry C. Jewell, Dr. Johnson, John R. Johnson, Charles F. King, John W. Knauff, Dr. William Lee, William B. Lumpkin, Prof. Hugh McQ. Lynn, Robert C. McCarley, James R. Mallory, Dr. Stephen R. Mason, W. Maxwell, S. Minton, William L. Moore, Edwin Moore, Dr. Owens, Dr. Parrish, L. Peak, J. Perry, J. Perry, John W. Pettey, Dr. Pettey, Capt. Augustus M. Reinhardt, Abel S. Reinhardt, George J. Reubell, W. Richards, Robert E. Richardson, J. Richardson, F.

Robinson, James M. Rooker, J. Sanders, William D. Shock, J. Sparks, Hugh S. Nicholas B. Thweatt, J. Thweatt, Gen. William A. Tisdale, Dr. Van Zandt, Judge Horace P. Vanghan, F. Wells, Dr. David N. White, William L. Willeford, B. Willeford, Dr. Williams, Rudolph Wintker, and E. Print on Demand. From United Kingdom to U. Quantity: Language: English. The 18th century was a wealth of knowledge, exploration and rapidly growing technology and expanding record-keeping made possible by advances in the printing press. In its determination to preserve the century of revolution, Gale initiated a revolution of its own: digitization of epic proportions to preserve these invaluable works in the largest archive of its kind. Now for the first time these high-quality digital copies of original 18th century manuscripts are available in print, making them highly accessible to libraries, undergraduate students, and independent scholars.

Delve into what it was like to live during the eighteenth century by reading the first-hand accounts of everyday people, including city dwellers and farmers, businessmen and bankers, artisans and merchants, artists and their patrons, politicians and their constituents. Original texts make the American, French, and Industrial revolutions vividly contemporary. Cooper, The 8. The first part of the booklet contains a brief history of the county: Civil War period; Early settlers and their lifestyle; County organization and county officials; Industries and businesses; Early villages -- Calhoun, Lamertine, Faleon and Frog Level; Magnolia, the county seat; the Railroad; Waldo, a flourishing mill town; Buckner and McNeil, towns along the railroad; Grand juries; Attorneys; Newspapers, schools and churches; and other items of interest.

Most are fairly lengthy, and often include ancestors, previous residences, children, in-laws, affiliations, war records primarily Civil War , and business activities. The biographies include: D. Allen, Cicero Ansley, Rev. William Armstrong, Judge B. Askew, Dr. James Atkinson, Rev. Baker, Francis Asberry Baker, J. Bolger, John Boreing, A. Couch, Sanford Couch, Z. Daniel, A. Archibald Henry, Jefferson Hicks, Dr. Solonzo Hughes, E. Kelly, Col. Kelso, Frank Amsted Key, Dr.

Killgore, A. Killgore, John Luck, Dr. Merritt, Thomas Milner, Capt. Thomas Monroe, W. Reid, Dr. John Preston Roberts, J. Rudd, Franklin Scott, Dr. Smith picture , J. Smith, John T. Souter, J. Stuart, Monroe Jefferson Talley, A. Thomas, J. Wallace, Robert Minor Wallace, R. Warnock, Dr. William Newton Warren, Dr. Yarbrough and James Zachry. Published by L. Everts, Chicago Illinois, Everts of Chicago. The page spiral bound book has the front cover protected with a vinyl sheet.

The original book was missing its title page, however the date and publisher were found elsewhere. This was probably the first of a two volume set, with the second volume devoted to biographies of Warren residents. We suspect this from the fact that the bio section of this book had only one listing from the city of Warren. See Below The history section contains curious happenings -- like using mosquitoes to punish a thief or hitting four Indians with a single bullet; historical accounts -- like Civil War incidents and notable "firsts"; and genealogical clues -- like the first settlers, and those who followed, and memory joggers -- like businesses, schools, newspapers, industries, and churches.

Following this county-wide history, are individual township histories, with names of early settlers, etc. Biographies of individuals or families make up the rest of the booklet. These often include ancestors, siblings, children, in-laws, affiliations, war records, and business activities, in the course of which they often shed light on area businesses, churches, professions and institutions, and on the events of the day. The names include: the McMullen family, R. Hart, Col. Thomas Bushnell Jr. John Edie Stewart, William P. Kerr, J. Fusselman, and Henry Hamilton, all of Brookfield; Dr. John B. James D. Hawkins, Eden Wildman, Capt. Bates, Osman Hull, Dr. Bushnell, George Wood, and Alexander C. Howe, Cyrus B. Snyder, T.

Archibald Green of Bloomfield; Col. Kinney, William Buckland, and Dr. Brockett of Bristol; Franklin E. Stowe of Braceville; Dr. Brittain, Azariah M. Brockway, John Scaling, and Edward B. Jones of Orangeville; Mrs. William Davis of Bazetta; E. Kellogg of Fowler; Daniel H. Higby, N. There's also a 3-page biography of John Fitch unheralded steamboat inventor , whose connection with Trumbull County is vague to non-existant. Published by F. The page book is an excerpt from the hard-to-find book: Counties of Cumberland, Jasper and Richland, Illinois, published by F. Bosworth, and other noted citizens of Greenup, first county seat; former towns of Woodbury and Johnstown; Jewett formerly Pleasantville , Toledo -- including names of the 82 families living there in ; the legend of how Toledo was named; Neoga, with a detailed account of the various churches; and other bits of history and trivia.

Attention Genealogists: This booklet contains biographies of many county residents of yesteryear. Some are brief, but many include ancestors, previous residences, children, in-laws, affiliations, war records, and business activities, in the course of which they often shed light on the businesses, churches, professions and institutions, and on the events of the day.

Ashwill, J. Atchison, Thomas Brewer, Levi N. Brewer, William L. Bruster, Dr. John E. Chambers, Dr. Daniel F. Chapman, Lewis Decius, W. Everhart, Dr. Goodwin, David B. Green, Henry W. Green, Charles Hanker, F. Heid, S. Holsapple, Alex Huges, Western R. Humphrey, D. Judson, Capt. Andrew J. Lee, Guy M. Lemen, William Logan, A. Lovins, Sheriff James A. McCandlish, Samuel C. Willer, W. Mumford, W. Park, T. Prather, I. Pugh, Dr. Reeves, Henry Rhoads, Levi B. Ross, George Starger, John B. Tossey, Dr. Yanaway; Greenup Township -- Mrs. Robert Arthur, James W. Arthur, Joseph Battye, Joseph D. Borden, H. Bowman, Dr. Richard T. Colliver, William Campbell, William H. Catey, Samuel W. Clark, Charles Conzet Sr.

Conzet, Joseph M. Cook, John C. Huffcut, Dr. Nathaniel G. James, Jacob Jenuine, Charles G. Jones; Mahlon R. Lee, Lemuel Leggett, Chapman A. McDonald, Reuben N. Matheny, Edwin Mattoon, G. Monohon, Charles Nisewanger, William H. Ozier, Harlow Park, James M. Rice, DeWitt C. Robertson, Isaac Rothrock, Frank M. Sapp, John J. Severns, Harlow O. Sherwood, Mark Sperry, Hubbard F. Tobey, Nicholas F. Troxel, Thomas C. Tutewiler, D. Underwood, Samuel Walden, Thornton A. Ward, John Wetherholt, William C. Allen, Samuel Allenbaugh, Samuel F. The first part of the booklet contains a history of the area: Physical Characteristics -- waterways, minerals, mountains, soil, etc. The biographies include: Major John D. Adams pix , Mrs. Marie Archer, William E.

Atkinson, Thomas W. Baird, T. Baldwin, Dr. Barnett, George L. Basham, A. Edwin Bentley, Dr. Blakemore, Dr. Thomas P. Blunt, Frank Botsford, Rev. Buchanan, H. Buddenberg, Dr. Augustus L. Campbell, Dr. Wallace Carnahan, L. Cassinelli, Benjamin B. Chism, Charles Choinski, C. Clark, Charles W. Clay, Fred B. Coleman, Dr. Collins, J. Culbertson, Charles E. Cunningham, Isaac A. Dale, Monte C. Davies, Dr. Roderick L. Dodge pix , Rev.

It is revered for getting The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees rain than Seattle Gender On Sentencing vicinity, but —and this should have loomed large to someone On The Grasshopper And The Cricket Poem Analysis had to be at her desk at seven-thirty in the The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees after getting breakfast, fixing lunches, making the beds, arranging about dinner and perhaps a little mascara—its southernmost tip was at least twenty-five miles from Seattle The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees its most attractive beaches were at the northern ninety-mile end. The The Struggle For Independence In Taylors The Bean Trees was pine planks put down with wooden pegs and calked. When loggers did operate their drives independently they would establish informal, ad hoc alliances with rival crews they encountered on their downstream journey. Scandinavian Studies 5.