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ainted in 1853, Asher B. Durand's Progress provided a visual rep­ resentation of the process Frederick Jackson Turner described in his now famous essay, "The Significance of the Frontier in Ameri­ can History," delivered in 1893. In the essay Turner defined the frontiePr as "the outer edge of the wave—the meeting point between savagery and civilization," and Durand's idealized landscape captures that wave as progress moves inexorably westward, supplanting the darkness of savagery with the light of civilization. Turner's biographer Allan G. Bogue has called this essay "the most celebrated scholarly paper ever presented by an Ameri­ can historian or social scientist," and in this issue Bogue uses a recently dis­ covered letter from Turner to help us understand why the University of Wisconsin's most popular historian left the state in 1909.

m Editor J. KentCalder Managing Editor Kathryn A. Thompson Associate Editor Margaret T. Dwyer Production Manager Deborah T. Johnson Reviews Editor Masarah Van Eyck Research and Editorial Assistants Brett Barker Joel Heiman Catherine Johnson Tim Thering Designer Kenneth A. Miller 110 Stories 2 THE WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY, published quarterly, is one of the many benefits of membership in the Photographs of the World Trade Center Wisconsin Historical Society. Individual memberships are $37.50 per year; senior citizen individual, $27.50; family, Construction $47.50; senior citizen family, $37.50; institutional, $55; Text and Photos by Richard Quinney supporting, $100; sustaining, $250; patron, $500; life (one person), $1,000. To receive the Wisconsin Magazine of History, join the Society! To join or to give a gift membership, send a check "Not by Bread Alone" 10 to Membership, Wisconsin Historical Society, 816 State The Emergence of the Wisconsin Idea and Street, Madison, Wl 53706-1482, or call the Membership Office at 888-748-7479. You can also join via e-mail, the Departure of Frederick Jackson Turner [email protected], or at the Society's Web site, www.wisconsinhistory.org (click on "Become a Member"). By Allan G. Bogue The WMH has been published quarterly since 1917 by the Wisconsin Historical Society (Phone 608-264-6400). Copyright © 2002 by the State Historical Society of Wis­ A Superior Season Z4 consin. Permission to quote or otherwise reproduce por­ A New York Giant tions of this copyrighted work may be sought in writing from the publisher at the address above. Communication, Remembers His Rookie Year inquiries, and manuscript submissions may also be addressed to [email protected]. Information about the By William A. Hachten magazine, including contributor's guidelines, sample arti­ cles, and an index of volume 84 can also be found at the Society's Web site by following the "Publications" link from After Slavery 40 the home page. Photographs identified with PH, WHi, or WHS are from The Milwaukee Years of Louis Hughes the Society's collections; address inquiries about such By Michael E. Stevens photos to the Visual Materials Archivist, 816 State Street, Madison, Wl 53706-1482. Many WHS photos are available through the Wisconsin Historical Images digital service available on the Web site. (From the home page, click The Crisis Years 52 "Archives.") An Excerpt from Young Bob: A The Wisconsin Historical Society does not assume responsibility for statements made by contributors. ISSN Biography of Robert M. La Follette,Jr 0043-6543. Periodicals postage paid at Madison, Wl 53706-1482. Back issues, if available, are $10 plus By Patrick]. Maney postage (888-748-7479). On the front cover: In August 1947 dozens of men arrived in Superior, Wisconsin, with one goal in mind: to Editors' Choice 58 play football for the New York Giants. In this issue William Hachten, seen in the photo in profile at right, recounts his Letters from Our Readers 62 rookie season with the team. (Saturday Evening Post) Back Matters 64

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' 1 110 stories Photographs of the World Trade Center Construction Text and Photos by Richard Quinney hat a difference a day makes—in a photo­ graph as well as in a life. You can view a W photograph in one way for a number of years, and then with the occurrence of a single event, the photograph takes on new meaning.

AUTUMN 2002 World Trade Center l^rPE STRENGTHENING YOUR ElectricalGas and Steam Faciimes

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For over thirty years, I kept trays of color All things of the city During the many years required for the slides of the photographs that I had taken in project's construction, I was living in New the spring of 1969. As I moved from one were new and exciting York city and teaching sociology at New place to another, the trays of slides relocated 1 r- York University. The spring semester of with me, closet to closet. Someday, I to me, worthy OJ a ^ggg^ j enrolled in a photography course believed, the documentation might serve a photograph. and roamed the streets and edges of Man­ purpose beyond the satisfaction that I expe­ hattan, photographing the sights that rienced as I was committing the images to film. If nothing caught my eye. I was the classic migrant from the Midwest else, the photographs would show the passing of time and the (from a farm in Walworth County), and all things of the city changing of the landscape. I did not know, until September were new and exciting to me, worthy of a photograph. 11, 2001, that the photographs would take on a meaning and With color film loaded in my camera, I walked from my significance beyond anything I could imagine. apartment in Greenwich Village to the construction site of the That spring of 1969, construction on the sixteen-acre site emerging World Trade Center. On the days that I did not that would house the World Trade Center was progressing, teach or have other duties at the university, I would spend the with the two 110-story towers beginning to dominate the cen­ day at the site. I also carried a tape recorder to capture the tral plaza. The trade center's mission was the advancement of sounds of construction and to conduct brief interviews. For international trade, and it had the financial backing of the the final presentation to the class at semester's end, I planned world's largest corporations. As the "United Nations of Com­ to synchronize the slides with construction sounds, interviews, merce," the center was to become the central market of world and the music of the Beatles, Bach organ fugues, and Harry trade. When you flew to New York City, the sight of the two Nilsson singing "I Guess the Tord Must Be in New York rising towers heralded your arrival. City."

AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

Gonstruction of the World Trade Center was taking place in the larger contemporary context. Lyndon Johnson had been elected president in 1964 to deliver the programs of the Great Society and to solve—or at least improve upon—the nation's problems of poverty, inequality, education, and urban decay. Yet the escalation of U.S. military intervention in southeast Asia—half a million troops in Vietnam by the end of 1967—caused cutbacks to domestic programs. Opposition to the war increased, and there were protest marches down Fifth Avenue and bus rides to Washington for the huge anti­ war demonstrations. At NYU, students and faculty were questioning not only the war, but also the role of the university in these times. In EXCA^TdftS Washington Square and over in the East Village, along First and Second Avenue and in Tompkins Square Park, another form of resistance was taking place. Hippies and flower chil­ dren, as they were called by the media, were on the streets and in the lofts. Abbie Hoffman came to talk in my sociology class, and Hair was opening at the Public Theater on Astor Place. By the end of 1968, the nation had been shocked by the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr., in April and Robert Kennedy in June. Exhausted by the resistance to his Vietnam policies, LBJ announced he would not run for reelection, and Richard Nixon was inaugurated president in January of 1969. A few months later, as I wandered with my camera along

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My selfproclaimed project was to document what could he seen as one world comes down and another goes up.

AUTUMN 2002 The surrounding sound was ofjackhammers, pile drivers, the grind and roar of heavy equipment, and the voices of the workers. And there were the moments ofrepose-of workers lunching and taking breaks, talking patiently to each other Business men and women stood quietly and viewed the site. Vendors sold their wares from the street

WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY

the streets of lower Manhattan at the trade center construc­ building project among those who approached the construction tion site, I observed the times in a microcosm. My self-pro­ site. The surrounding sound was ofjackhammers, pile drivers, claimed project, as a sociologist and student of photography, the grind and roar of heavy equipment, and the voices of the was to document what could be seen as one world comes workers. And there were the moments of repose—of workers down and another goes up. The public . lunching and taking breaks, talking patient- had not generally endorsed the building IViany regarueu ine prOjeCl \y to each other. Business men and women of the World Trade Center. Many stood quietly and viewed the site. Vendors regarded the project as the triumph of big as the triumph of big sold their wares from the street. And there business over the public interest. Local business over the was the photographer—inspired—snapping shopkeepers were losing their stores; the lens of his camera with utter joy. indeed, the entire neighborhood was van­ public interest. Eventually, I would move with my fam­ ishing, bulldozed to make way for corpo­ ily to other places. We left the city, and I rate headquarters. The city established heavy police patrols of resigned my tenured job at the university, mainly out of exhaus­ the area, and the presence of the police, guardians of the tion from living in the decade of the sixties. After several years established order, which included involvement in Vietnam, of moving up and down the East Coast, I returned to the Mid­ was in stark contrast to the nearby neighborhoods. Gonstruc­ west to be near the place—the farm in Wisconsin—that I could tion workers—the hardhats—boldly displayed the American never leave behind. flag. The morning of September 11, I had the television news on Political beliefs aside, there was a fascination with this major as my wife was leaving for work, when the first jet flew into the

AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY

North Tower. A few minutes later the second plane flew into the cle for those who constructed the buildings of the World South Tower. As the buildings collapsed before our eyes, we Trade Center, as well as those who witnessed their could only begin to grasp the fact that lives were perishing in construction. that instant. The Twin Towers are now Now I look anew at the pho­ The Author cultural icons, icons that will be tographs that I took thirty-some Richard Quinney, a professor emeri­ given new meanings with each years ago in the spring of 1969. tus of sociology at Nortliem Illinois Uni­ passing generation. You may versity and former Fulbright lecturer, is The red exterior columns of the still see a postcard of New York the author of numerous works on crimi­ towers I captured then are nology and the recipient of the Edwin H. on a newsstand or a photograph viewed today as ghosts of the Sutherland award for his work on crimi­ taken before September 11 with wrecked structures that nological theory. Professor Quinney is the towers standing tall, and remained at ground zero. These also the author of several autobiographi­ you may avert your eyes, or you structures appear again in the cal books, including his most recent. may stare in numbed silence. I Borderland: A Midwest Journal (University of Wisconsin Press, photographs taken at the tend to do the same with the 2001). photographs I took with such destruction site by Magnum Richard Quinney donated his collection of 161 color slide photographers, other photojour- images (accession number M2002-085) to the Wisconsin His­ abandon more than three nalists, and by visitors and work­ torical Society in 2002. decades ago. Always, as with all ers walking the streets that photographs, we know that September morning. In the earlier photographs, the red their use and meaning will eventually go beyond anything we columns and the skeleton structure were an inspiring specta- can now imagine. IM4

AUTUMN 2002 Frederick Jackson Turner's biographer considers the significance of a recently discovered letter

Frederick Jackson Turner's famous frontier thesis derived in part from his lifelong love of the outdoors. The idea that Wisconsin's best-known historian would leave the beloved natural environment of his native state was a surprise to many. WHS Archives, Lot 259, WHi(X3)3212 WHS Archives, Lot 1965, WHi(X3)50976 The view ofBascom Hill on the UW-Madison campus from the Wisconsin Historical Society, c. 1904. ' Not by Bread Alone' The Emergence of the Wisconsin Idea and the Departure of Frederick Jackson Turner

By Allan ee. Bogue s the faculty and students settled into the fall ed confidant; his was a leading voice in faculty councils. It was semester on the University of Wisconsin campus especially Turner who put the alumni on notice that their in 1909, members of the university community excesses in support of the football team were not to be toler­ were shocked to learn that Professor Fred Turn­ ated. Aer was resigning to accept a position in the History Depart­ Most faculty members also understood that Turner was a ment at Harvard University.^ Almost everyone on campus national leader within his discipline. He had, they knew, a knew Turner. Except for a few brief interludes, he had been highly attractive teaching arrangement under which he was a member of the university community since enrolling at the required to instruct only two classes in every other semester University of Wisconsin as a freshman in 1878. Turner had and had permission to be away from campus while doing engineered the selection of Charles Van Hise as university research during the semesters he was not teaching. By the president and subsequently become the president's most trust­ standards of the day the university paid him a handsome WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

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The faculty of the UW School of Economics in 1893; Turner is at far UW Archives (x25) 3065 left. Charles Haskins (top row, left), future dean of the Graduate School at Harvard University, facilitated Harvard's offer to Turner. Richard T. Ely, center, had his own battle and trial with the UW Board of Regents in 1894, when Turner strongly defended Ely's honor. salary. Undergraduates respected Turner, and his graduate Turner had initially decided to accept an offer from the Uni­ students worshiped him. He was a Wisconsin native with versity of California at Berkeley, an institution that was cer­ legions of friends in both the capital and the hinterland, and tainly no Harvard. The answers lay in the history of Turner's his politician newspaperman father had reared him to love career at the university and have recently become clearer the woods, the streams, and the lakes of his native state. Turn­ because of an important letter from Turner that surfaced in er was an honored member of the Madison Titerary Club and 1999. the Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Tetters, as well As a handsome and talented undergraduate from Portage, as a regular participant in State Supreme Court Justice Fred Turner excelled in declamation, winning prizes for his Romanzo Bunn's Shakespeare reading circle, where the his­ oratory. In his studies, however, he found his great love in his­ torian and the judge stole time to discuss the latter's collection tory. His teacher. Professor William F. Allen, encouraged him of fishing flies. Turner's wife, Caroline, enjoyed a supportive to pursue his interest in that discipline beyond the bachelor's circle of friends in the community. The fare and organization degree at Wisconsin and thereafter to enroll for doctoral work of her picnics became legendary, and the governor's wife at The Johns Hopkins University, the acknowledged leader invited her to assist in the entertainment of state legislators. during the 1880s in offering graduate instruction in the social Why would her husband wish to go elsewhere? The question sciences. In Baltimore, Turner listened eagerly to the stimu­ was the more perplexing because colleagues soon learned that lating lectures and advice of great teachers Herbert Baxter m AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY

WHS Archives, Album 11.82b, WHi(X3)15119 Turner chided the UW alumni for caring more about the university's football team than for its scholars, and this was one of many issues he raised at the time of his resignation.

Adams, Richard T. Ely, and Woodrow Wilson and cemented ty, and, at the Annual Meeting of the American Historical friendships with Wilson and with a circle of graduate students Association in 1893, he argued persuasively that the West, or who became national leaders in their fields. Brought back to frontier, had been the major factor in shaping American Wisconsin in 1889 by President Thomas development and character, particularly C. Chamberlin and Allen to join the latter Turner and other faculty its democratic institutions. This essay, in a tiny history department. Turner very "The Significance of the Frontier in shortly assumed direction of the history members in major mid- American History," became the most program when his beloved mentor died. western universities had famous scholarly paper ever delivered by To replace Allen, the university hired an American historian and is still the Turner's boardinghouse fellow in Balti­ become appalled at the focus of lively discussion by historians. more, Charles H. Haskins, and together Publishing houses sought the privilege the friends laid the foundations of an out­ enthusiasm with which and profit of publishing the numerous standing history department. students and alumni were texts and specialized studies that Turner During the years from 1890 to 1910, assured them he would write. Under his universities greatly expanded their pro- SUPPOrting COllcgC foOtball. leadership, the history department at the grams and student bodies, and the Uni­ University of Wisconsin became unique versity of Wisconsin was no exception. At Turner's urging. by placing major emphasis in its curriculum upon the inter­ President Chamberlin brought Professor Ely to the university action and rivalries of the various geographic sections within to head a School of Economics, Political Science, and Histo­ the United States. ry. Eventually the university created a separate School of His­ The eminent Harvard scholar Albert Bushnell Hart per­ tory under Turner's direction in reward for rejecting offers of suaded Turner to join the leading historians of the United employment from other institutions. Meanwhile, Turner had States in preparing a volume in the prestigious series The made the history of the American West his particular special- American Nation: A History, published by Harper & Broth-

AUTUMN 2002 IS WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY ers. Turner's contribution. Rise of the posed honor for me. I appreciate it to the New West, 1819-1829, appeared in 1906 dregs! and won much praise. Turner served on If I had known just where to aim at important professional committees, and, you, I should have written before, telling as first vice-president, he expected to be you of a serious problem that is up to me, elected president of the American Histori­ and which may complicate matters. I have cal Association at that organization's an invitation to take the chair of American annual meeting in December 1909. At history at California 5000, and am to meet Harvard University, the authorities Wheeler in Chicago Tuesday afternoon, agreed to confer an honorary degree upon auditorium annex, to discuss the matter Turner at the fall convocation in 1909, [margin note: Fish is the only colleague I when they would also install A. Lawrence have yet told of this.]^ I now expect to Lowell as the new president. But at the accept; but I may stave ofTfinal settlement June meeting of the University of Wiscon­ until Van Hise's return. I shall not bargain sin Board of Regents in 1908, a committee over the matter, but it may be courtesy to reporting on the state of the university had give him formal notification before I questioned the wisdom of the special accept. I cannot feel secure in any excep­ teaching arrangements accorded Turner tional provision at Wis for there has been and Richard T. Ely. These agreements, too much talk and chafing among the the authors of the report recommended, influential new regents about my present should be ended as soon as possible. arrangement—made on due considera­ WHS Archives, Lot 259, WHi(X3)912 Despite his many years of rewarding Caroline Turner around 1900. Her tion, and after a second opportunity to community involvement and professional husband claimed that Caroline's allergies back out of it—to make me comfortable success. Turner, on September 12, 1909, were a primary reason to leave the highly under any such provision, either of salary pollinated state of Wisconsin. wrote the following letter to Charles H. or absence. Haskins, by this time dean of the Graduate School at Harvard But Wisconsin may not prefer to send me as her delegate University. after I decide to leave at the end of this first semester, as is Dear Charles: proposed; and it would not be strange if Harvard's degree had It is very nice to know that you are so pleased at the pro- been proposed as much for Wisconsin's history department as

The Wisconsin Historical Society Fannie E. Hicklin, Madison Vice-President: Margaret B. Humleker, Fond du Lac Margaret Humleker, Fond du Lac Vice-President: Edwin P. Wiley, Milwaukee Director: Robert B. Thomasgard, Jr. John Kerrigan, Dubuque, lA Treasurer. Rhona E. Vogel, Brookfield Officers Ellen D. Langill, Waukesha Secretary: George L. Vogt, Madison Genevieve G. McBride, Milwaukee Asst. Treasurer & Asst. Secretary: W. Pharis Horton, President: Patricia A. Boge Judy Nagel, DePere Madison President Elect: IVIarl< L. Gajewsl

WHS Archives, Lot 259, WHi(X3)934 Whatever the season. Turner spent as much time outdoors as possible. In winter he made his way across Madison's Lake Mendota on snow- shoes. In summer (above) he was back on Wisconsin's lakes with his fishing gear and UW President Charles Van Hise (standing) and noted labor economist—and neighbor—Charles Sumner Slichter.

for me personally, so I have told Mr. Greene the state of affairs and asked him to inform the authorities.^ If I had known you were in the country, I should have preferred to act indirectly by telling you the conditions. I can rely on your friendship to see that, if the state of affairs makes a situation which, if it had developed earlier might have modified Har­ vard's proposed honor) it shall be abrogated. I shall cheerful­ ly and understandingly accept any change due to changed conditions. Will you do this for me? I needn't go into details of the reasons which are leading me to the decision to leave Wisconsin. The conditions are already partly known to you. The University has so many bosses in the legislature, the regents, alumni. Sic, all of whom know more about what ought to be done, and know it in a mutually different way, than President and faculty, that it is getting too warm. Especially since I am on a research basis

WHS Archives, Lot 259, WHi(X3)916 and the most active regents are determined to limit this phase

AUTUMN 2002 IS WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY to the minimum. Pres. Van Hise, acting under instructions from the Board, announced to the faculty before the last budget that more teaching should be demanded in any department asking increases in its budget, or promotions of its men. He tells me that it was not leveled at me; but the policy places me in the awkward position of seeming to interfere with the advancement of my colleagues in the department, and it would inevitably make discontent and friction. The Regents are divided, but in a spring meeting between them and representatives of the faculty there was general '7 am not worrying much about successors. The library, in the long run, will win a strong man who will use the riches to his advantage." regent consensus—at least no dissenting speech by a regent—to the doctrine that research should be limited to science. One regent—G. D.Jones, of Wausau, was willing to allow history & political science this position; but he declared that a seminary was not a proper course to reckon among the professors hours of service; it was, he said, merely recreation. The board have demanded resignations and promoted men without the president's approval and by their own negotiations. In short, if I stay I must fight for my right to do the work I am doing, and must give myself up to a large attention to Uni­ versity politics—and shall be handicapped by the allegation that I am working to hold a soft snap. If I could accomplish anything, I might sacrifice all my special advantages—tho' given to hold me—and stay and fight. But I believe I can do quite as much by going. The conditions in Wisconsin which you foresaw when you left have developed more fully. The state has taken Van Hise at his word and is making the Uni­ versity the instrument of the state, rather than for the higher life of the state, I fear. The University has developed beyond the sympathetic comprehension of the constituency that sup­ ports it, and nothing but time and a series of shocks can restore the old ideals. to work up my notes. But I shall miss a great general library, I don't mean that I am out of sympathy with the useful work like Wisconsin's in American history—and I can only hope on of popular education on industrial lines that has won praise for this score that after five or six years I may be able to travel the institution. But I would not lose what was good in the old, about on leave by the Carnegie basis to continue my general in order to make the institution minister to the obvious com­ studies.^ Just now I need to produce more than to accumulate forts ofWisconsin's material conditions—"not by bread alone!" added material. California will give Mrs. Turner freedom from hay fever Still, it is the Wisconsin conditions that turn the scale in my and from the rigor of our winters. I shall have the Bancroft decision. I don't know what will be done to fill my place, if I library for an extension of my western studies, and I hope that leave. I think my going will make my successor's lot easier. I I shall find, in the relief from other things, time and stimulous hope Fish will be given increased recognition. If Farrand

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VMA Album 10.76a One of Turner's famous American history seminars meets in an alcove of the Wisconsin Historical Society's library in the State Capitol, 1894. The Board of Regents pushed Turner to teach more large undergradu­ ate classes rather than conduct small seminars with graduate students. would continue his western studies, I should like to see him at is little or no hay fever. We sleep on the screened verandah of Wisconsin; but I do not suppose he could be won from Yale a log cabin on Trout Lake, paddle, fish (a little) walk the trails, now. In any case Munro and Dennis will be likely to have the and eat. The forests are still in process of destruction and half final word in deciding, so I am not worrying much about suc­ of the lake—about the size of Mendota is cut over; but the cessors.^ The library, in the long run, will win a strong man birches and small trees cover the scars. We are well and I am who will use the riches to advantage. getting a good muscle and sun burn. We have hardly spent We are here in the woods and among many lakes. There two nights in the house this whole summer. We should all

AUTUMN 2002 M WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY have preferred to tramp with you over Switzerland—or to be most anywhere with you, for that matter. I am glad enough to see you again and shall, of course,— if I do go on—accept your invitation. But I must return imme­ diately after the exercises—more's the pity! As yet I have no notification from Wisconsin that I am appointed—tho' a Har­ vard circular indicates that I am. With warm regards from us all Yours Fred

Haskins replied to Turner by telegraph and by surface mail urging Turner to defer final action until Harvard's administrators investigated the possibility of inviting him to join their history department. This was not a new idea at Har­ vard. Turner had impressed the authorities there when he served for a semester as a visiting professor. Haskins and Archibald Coolidge, the chairman of the Harvard history department, believed that its Americanists, although eminent, were drawing fewer graduate students from other regions than was desirable at a nationally acclaimed institution. At Wisconsin Turner had attracted students from far and wide. When he visited Cambridge to attend Lowell's installation and accept his own honorary degree, the Harvard authorities invited him to join their faculty. Turner's communications from Haskins remained among his papers, now held at the Henry E. Huntington Library in Pasadena. His biographers did not find his letter to Haskins. During the fall of 1999, however, the Wisconsin Historical Society purchased a small number of Turner's letters, includ­ ing the long-lost alert to Haskins. Turner's letter to Haskins reveals his doubt about the pro­ priety of serving as the University ofWisconsin's ofiicial dele­ sity of Wisconsin's students of the possibility of studying with gate at Lowell's installation after he had announced his plans one of the country's leading scholars and most innovative cur­ to leave Wisconsin. Neither Van Hise nor the Harvard riculum builders. It was also a blow to the state's fund of authorities, however, expressed concern about that aspect of human resources; Wisconsin did not have an abundance of the situation. Of greater interest to historians is Turner's con­ nationally recognized figures. demnation of the results of President Van Hise's commitment Until the recent appearance of the Turner-Haskins letter to the idea that the university should place its resources at the of September 1909, the first documentary explanation of service of the state generally. The ideological fault line that Turner's decision to leave Wisconsin available to scholars was Turner draws here between Van Hise and himself has been a a poignant note to Caroline Mae Turner that he wrote in major one in American higher education ever since, and it is Cambridge, Massachusetts, in early October 1909, after important to find it so well articulated at this stage in the A. Lawrence Lowell had assured him that an official offer was development of the famous Wisconsin Idea. forthcoming. Turner told Caroline that when he resigned The letter began a process that diverted the migration of shortly thereafter at Madison, "I shall air no grievances—but the Turner family from San Francisco Bay to the banks of the I shall not deny that if the course of the regents had been dif­ Charles River in Massachusetts, but regardless of whether ferent I should have stayed." The couple's years together in Turner went east or west, his departure deprived the Univer­ Wisconsin had been "rich" ones and they would "push on

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UW Archives The Board oJ Regents and guests around 1912. together to see the stars . . . again, knowing that the only real­ ly [sic] joy is in the effort to fulfill what is best in us."^ The September letter, however, was written in white heat, uncol- ored by after-the-fact rationalization. Consideration of his decision should begin with this initial explanation. Turner's letter to Haskins shows that the faculty con­ frontation with members of the Board of Regents and his own place in the controversy were uppermost in his mind when he wrote to his friend. But he was, perhaps, past the point of rational consideration when he made his decision. "This year," he told Max Farrand in mid-October 1909, "has been a kind of night-mare to me," and, a week later, he explained to

Granville D. fones, a member of the UW Board of Regents who advocated heavier teaching loads for history faculty and especially for Turner. \J\N Archives

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the same correspondent, "I had decided that it would be best here." His "going was not because of ambition or of desire for for me to relieve a phase of the situation here by going. . . . The a higher salary," he assured another old student in early regents will be ready to do much for my successor. They are December, but because "certain conditions, here," led him to learning, and will be more ready to support the advanced posi­ believe "that I could do my best work by going; and incidental­ tion which Wisconsin has taken after the air is cleared." But two ly do some good to the institution by creating a consideration of days later he clarified his explanation to Farrand. He wanted, some of the problems essential to its future." Carl L. Becker was he said, "to settle long enough to raise a crop. For the present, destined to become the most celebrated historian among his with my long residence and relations to Wisconsin I did not see former students at the University of Wisconsin, and in a letter how I could do this here; and I felt that I could do the Univer­ to him Turner again disavowed ambition or avarice, denied sity my best service by accepting a call elsewhere." He admitted that there had been "a direct attack" on his position, and elab­ that he could have retained the cherished research semester orated upon the sins of the regents and their relation to his deci­ and "even ... a higher salary perhaps" had he stayed at Wis­ sion. He would, he assured Becker, always be a proud alumnus consin. Harvard seemed, he wrote to a former student, "to open of Wisconsin, "and that very pride helped prompt me to try and an opportunity to me to do some work which I haven't done check tendencies here that endangered temporarily those things

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WHS Archives, Album 11.84b, WHi(X3)35106 Tuner lamented the growing obsession among undergraduates for social activities over academics. In 1908 UW freshmen and sophomore classes clashed during Rush Week; the festivities took place in front of the Armory (Red Gym) and the old boathouse. that make it worth being proud of Besides I have my work to munications. To Caroline he put the matter bluntly. If there do and not many years in which to do it."^ had been no regents on the rampage he would have stayed. To Turner's various letters of explanation identify the several a former student, however, he admitted that in his mind the major considerations that he advanced in explaining his deci­ contribution that his departure would make to educating the sion to leave the University of Wisconsin, the threatening regents was incidental to his desire to place himself in a situa­ behavior of the regents, his desire to advance his scholarly tion where he could advance his writing. Unquestionably the "work," and—less emphasized—his Madison involvements (the behavior of the regents triggered Turner's decision to depart "long residence and relations to Wisconsin") and the hay fever when he did, but we should probably view his decision as the and fragile health that afflicted Caroline Turner. He was not culmination of deeply rooted factors rather than a spontaneous consistent in ordering these considerations in his various com­ reaction to regent ignorance and intolerance.

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Discontents with his situation had long festered in Turner's mind. He viewed himself as a research / scholar who, like Woodrow Wilson and other ^/"/X, friends, would publish major works of history. Dur­ 4. "^-^-T^^.-.aL-j.^^^--? : ing the years between 1895 and 1905 he agreed to write a number of books for various pubhshers, as /L/f well as conceiving still others. He had great diffi­ 4tir culty, however, in carrying these projects beyond ^y^ the planning stage. When pressed by immediate deadhnes, he turned out insightful and provocative essays but bogged down when he confronted larg­ er projects. As early as 1902 he was complaining )'/U^^U'-.^.JSb /^Crf-t-w-c urro^^^t^ XLJ^.^^ about his unpubhshed books. During the following several years Albert Bushnell Hart extracted a bril­ K liant monograph from Turner but later boasted •i that this feat of editorial persuasion was worthy of ^^ being recorded on the Hart tombstone. Turner soon told friends that a masterwork would follow in n which he would carry the theme of sectional inter­ WHS Archives, Wis MSS AL play developed in this book through another twen­ ty years of American history. But reality soon set in as he tried Turner's long-missing letter casts to focus on his writing while resisting, but often surrendering to, the manifold distractions that faculty affairs and Madison new light on the background of social life presented. While teaching summer sessions at the University of Cali­ the Wisconsin idea. fornia, Berkeley, in 1904 and 1906, Turner fell in love with the ford University immediately. CaroHne's problems with hay Far West, noting as well that the debilitating hay fever that tor­ fever, he explained, resulted in disruption of the household mented Caroline did not affect her there. Turner's friend Max each summer and fall. In California hay fever would not be a Farrand was teaching at Stanford University, and by 1906 that problem. Meanwhile the prevailing educational philosophy institution's leaders were trying to add Turner to its faculty. An on the Wisconsin Board of Regents was changing as Gover­ earthquake forced Stanford's president to put such plans on nor La Toilette's successor, James O. Davidson, appointed hold, but President Van Hise used the Stanford feeler to obtain new members to the board. Members of the Wisconsin facul­ approval from the Board of Regents for Turner's special teach­ ty believed that the regents were forcing faculty resignations, ing arrangement. Even so. Turner found other aspects of the altering tenure and salary status without faculty advice, situation in Madison to be unsettling. rejecting recommendations for promotion, negotiating or Turner and other faculty members in major midwestern conferring with individual faculty, interfering with curricu­ universities had become appalled at the enthusiasm with lum content, threatening academic freedom, inquiring into which their students and alumni were supporting college foot­ individual work loads, and seeking to deemphasize research ball. During 1905 and 1906 he devoted much time and ener­ in the College of Letters and Sciences while favoring other gy to combating the problems posed by the rise of colleges or programs. The actions relating to Turner and Ely professional coaches, the emergence of peripatetic athletes, that a regent committee proposed in June 1908 were part of and excessive alumni involvement. Turner's forces were not this general situation. completely successful, and the historian leader was burned in At President Van Hise's request. Turner prepared an effigy. Also in 1906 Turner found it necessary to explain the exhaustive accounting of the achievements of the history pro­ importance of faculty research to a committee of the Wiscon­ gram under his direction and the professional esteem that it sin State Legislature that was investigating the university. enjoyed. Van Hise was confident that he could use such evi­ Despite Van Hise's successful effort to facihtate Turner's dence of professional achievements to educate the regents. research. Turner did not break off his negotiations with Stan- The names Turner and Ely do not appear in the minutes of

^ AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY the regent meeting of June 1909, The Author puzzle. It casts new light on the but when Van Hise sought at that Allan G. Bogue is Freder­ background of the Wisconsin idea. time to further understanding ick Jackson Turner Professor And it reveals a man's rationaliza­ between the regents and faculty by of History Emeritus at the Uni­ tion of one of the most important bringing delegations of both togeth­ versity of Wisconsin-Madi­ decisions of his scholarly career er to talk out their differences. son. He is the author and while he was in the very process of editor of numerous books on Turner was involved in an unpleas­ making it. As noted, that decision American history, including ant interchange with one of the Frederick Jackson Turner: meant that the succeeding genera­ regents. To be the subject of critical Strange Roads Going Down tion of Wisconsin youth at its uni­ scrutiny by members of the Board (1998) and Ttie Earnest Men: Republicans of the versity would be deprived of the of Regents was enough to disheart­ Civil War Senate {^Q%^). opportunity to study with a great en most faculty members, but teacher and researcher and that Turner faced other niggling frustrations of the time as well. the University of Wisconsin's reputation as a center for the He was defeated when he offered himself for the presidency study of social science would diminish. It meant also—as of the new faculty club. He also knew that he had somewhat Turner forecast—that his faculty colleagues could use his offended two senior colleagues for seeking the promotion of departure to discredit the attempts of the Wisconsin regents to another colleague without their full approval. And despite the exercise more internal control over the university. When con­ impressive achievements of the Wisconsin history program trasted with the explanations that came later. Turner's letter, that he chronicled for Van Hise, Turner must have been frus­ in a larger sense, shows how grievances of the moment may trated by the fact that he had made virtually no progress since in decision making mask more fundamental frustrations. 1906 in writing the three major works that he had told Van Sadly, Turner's departure from Wisconsin did not speed Hise he was working on. When President Benjamin I. Wheel­ completion of the books for which academic publishers pined. er of the University of California and the head of his history Turner's problems apparently lay not in his environment but department sought in the summer of 1909 to take advantage in himself Due to his dogged persistence, however, in the face of the situation at Wisconsin by inviting Turner to join the of declining health and to the efforts of devoted friends. Turn­ history department at Berkeley, Turner was well conditioned er's crop was finally harvested. There was to be a posthumous to respond favorably. The regents had done their part in that Pulitzer Prize book and an additional important volume. Still conditioning but, as he admitted, they did not drive Turner more important, and in contrast to the contributions of most from Wisconsin, nor did he sacrifice himself in the interests of of Turner's leading contemporary historians, his ideas colleagues. Regents of the University of Wisconsin come and inspired a great flow of amplifications and criticism, a stream go, and Turner well knew that; it was the unwritten books of discourse that has continued to this day. IM4 and the sense that he must find a place where he could "raise a crop" that weighed most heavily in his decision. For the 1 There is a large bibliography dealing with Frederick Jackson Turner and his writings. The fol­ lowing three works provide a useful introduction. Ray A. Billington, Frederick Jackson Turn­ time being the regents were playing an important part in er: Historian, Scholar, Teacher (New York: Oxford University Press, 1973). Allan G. Bogue, Frederick Jackson Turner: Strange Roads Going Down (Norman, University of Oklahoma making it difficult for him to concentrate on his writing. Press, 1998). Wilbur R. Jacobs (ed.), The Historical World of Frederick Jackson Turner with When the current problems were solved, as his friend Van Selections from his Correspondence (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968). 2 Benjamin I. Wheeler, then President of the University of California, Berkeley, California. Carl Hise was sure would be the case, there would still be a life dis­ Russell Fish, one of Turner's younger colleagues in the University of Wisconsin History Depart­ ment. rupted by Caroline's hay fever and the web of social, faculty, 3 Jerome D. Greene, Secretary of the Board of Overseers of Harvard College. and professional entanglements that he had spun around 4 During these years Turner and other historians hoped that the Carnegie Institution of Wash­ ington would be able to provide them with assistance for research in the field. himself during the last thirty years. As time passed and Turn­ 5 Max Farrand shared Turner's interest in Western American history and fly-fishing. In 1909 he was in the process of moving from the History Department at Stanford University to Yale Uni­ er rethought his decision in the course of explaining it to oth­ versity. Dana C. Munro and Alfred L. P. Dennis were senior colleagues of Turner in the Uni­ versity of Wisconsin History Department. ers, these other considerations crept more obviously into his 6 Turner to Caroline Turner, October 7, 1909. Frederick Jackson Turner Papers, Family Corre­ letters. spondence, Henry E. Huntington Library, Pasadena, California. ^ Turner to Max Farrand, October, 19, 26, 28, 1909; Turner to James A. James, November 18, Turner's long-missing letter to Haskins does not allow us 1909; Turner to Mathew B. Hammond, December 5, 1909; Turner to Carl L. Becker, December 5, 1909. Frederick Jackson Turner Papers, General Correspondence, Henry E. Huntington to build a new interpretation of Turner the historian. It is Library, Pasadena, California. much more, however, than the final piece in an academic

^ AUTUMN 2002 NEW YORK CIAN

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n a chilly morning in August 1947, I woke up showed it to my father, who thought it looked fair, so I signed in a Pullman berth of a train stopped in the it and returned it by mail. As far as I knew, no one, certainly depot at Superior, Wisconsin. I looked out the not a rookie, would dare to bargain for a better salary. window and saw tall grain elevators. The train During the preseason, which lasted about two months, ridOe from my home in Southern California had been long and players—veterans and rookies alike—received a railroad ticket monotonous. I had come to Superior to play football with the to training camp and free room and board, but no compensa­ New York Giants Football Club, as it was called. For several tion. The first paycheck did not come until a Monday in Sep­ years the Giants had held their preseason training camp at tember after the first of twelve league games. Most small Superior State College, attracted there professional players had jobs in the off-season by the cool breezes off Lake Superior. In those Being a rookie, to supplement their football salaries. days before air conditioning was widespread, I arrived in To a twenty-two-year-old just out of college Superior, along with Duluth, was known as the in 1947, $7,500 seemed like a lot of money (in "ice box" of the Midwest, a comfortable place Wisconsin with today's dollars that would be $55,970). NFL to practice football during otherwise hot, salaries had increased sharply that year humid summers. So, beginning in 1939 and both excitement because of competition with the newly formed then in 1941, 1942, 1946, 1947, and 1948, the All-America Conference (AAC), which had New Yorkers moved into Superior, a small but and trepidation. started the year before with teams in New busy port town of about 35,000, for several York City, Brooklyn, Los Angeles, San Fran­ weeks in August for preseason training. cisco, Chicago, Cleveland, Miami, and Buffa­ During the 1946 season I had played guard lo. These new teams were loaded with talent, at Stanford, and like most linemen at that the owners were wealthier than those in the time, I played both offense and defense. That NFL, and the cities were enthusiastic about year I had made the Associated Press All Pacif­ their new teams. The National Football ic Coast team and consequently caught the League was clearly worried as a multimillion- attention of the Giants. dollar bidding war ensued. My $1,500 bonus Joining an NFL team was much more sim­ was a sign of that competition. But the domi­ ple and casual in those days, involving no tele­ nance of Paul Brown's Cleveland Browns soon vised draft or widespread media speculation quelled interest in the AAC; Brown's great TOUCHDOWN, FIELD GOAL teams won four straight titles, losing just four about which team would land the current col­ or SUCCESSFUL TRY games in four years. (By 1950 the AAC col­ lege stars. I had received inquiry letters from Both orms cxttnded obeve heod. both the Giants and Bears asking if I was inter­ lapsed, and the Browns, San Francisco 49ers, ested in playing pro football. The draft itself received scant and Baltimore Colts joined the NFL.) press attention, and after a week or two, the Giants informed Being a rookie, I arrived in Wisconsin with both excitement me by mail that they had drafted me in the eleventh round and trepidation. I stepped off the train that August morning and urged me to sign. and took a taxi from the train station to the college. I carried So in the spring I met in downtown Los Angeles, near my my bags up the stairs of the dormitory, where players lived two home, with Red Smith, who was in town with the Chicago to a room and had their meals in a dining room. The dorm Cubs. Smith offered me a standard contract: $6,000 for the overlooked Superior College's nearby practice field. season (if I made the team) and $1,500 as an immediate Seated at the top of the stairs on a porch were Steve Owen, bonus for signing. I had no agent, of course (I knew no one the Giants' 300-pound coach, and his brother and line coach. who did), and no lawyer checked over my contract. I just Bill Owen, who weighed only 270. Tobacco-chewing "Stout Steve," as the press called him, gave me a gruff "So, you're Art adapted from the cover of the official program for the Gold Hachten, huh?" That's all he said, and with that welcome I Cup charity game, held September 17, 1947, at New York's Polo Grounds. hurried off to find my room. Stout Steve was an imposing and intimidating figure and Image courtesy of the author; title design by Joel Heiman something of a legend. He had come to the Giants as a tackle WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

Courtesy of the author These heavy thinkers are, from left, coaches Steve Owen, Bill Owen, Mike Palm, and Richard (Red) Smith. The Giants staff, the heaviest in pro football, averaged 254 pounds and totaled 1,015 pounds. in 1926, the team's second year, took over the head coaching Two arduous practices a day, in full pads, allowed the job as a playing coach in 1930, and in 1947 was beginning his newcomers to learn the Giants' offense and also served to get eighteenth season at the team's helm. At the time he lagged the players into some kind of physical condition. Year-round behind only Earl "Curly" Lambeau at Green Bay and George conditioning was unheard of, and few if any players arrived at Halas of the Chicago Bears in years of National Football camp in good shape. Weight training was shunned; conven­ League (NFL) coaching. Coaching staffs tional wisdom was that lifting weights were small; besides the Owen brothers, the For rookies, training made a player "muscle-bound," thereby Giants employed only Mike Palm, a back- decreasing agility and speed. On the field coach, and Richard "Red" Smith, camp was all about practice field there was true anguish and who during baseball season also coached making the team. pain as both rookies and veterans per­ with the Chicago Cubs. spired and struggled to achieve a level of At Superior I was one of eleven rookies on a squad of about conditioning that would help assure them a place on the forty-five who all arrived in camp about the same time. A team. strong aroma of raw competition prevailed. Some insecure Steve Owen's teams were noted for their tough and stub­ and aging veterans were trying to hold onto their positions born defenses, but on offense the coach stayed with the badly (and jobs) against the eager, hard-charging rookies. About a dated single-wing offense built around a tailback who would dozen or more of the well-established players, including tack­ both run and pass. The single wing with its unbalanced line les Jim White and Tex Coulter and guard Len Younce, were was designed to grind out first downs methodically with of All-Pro caliber and seemed unconcerned about the compe­ power plays. During the 1940s the new "new thing" in foot­ tition. Off the field there was little fraternizing between rook­ ball was the explosive T-formation designed for quick break­ ies and veterans during those anxious first days. Veterans away runs and unexpected passes, pioneered by University of rarely offered helpful suggestions to newcomers. For rookies, Chicago coach Clark Shaughnessy. As an assistant coach to training camp was all about making the team. George Halas with the Chicago Bears, Shaughnessy later

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introduced the T-formation to the NFL. or did not offer many diversions to the big With a passing quarterback under the cen­ city visitors. There were no facilities for ter and three backs to run or catch passes, exhibition games, although each day a few the T-forniation offered much more speed, football fans, mostly kids with bikes, would deception, and variety to offensive football. come out to watch the Giants practice. The T used wide receivers and a man-in- The rookies, of course, had to prove motion to confound pass defenses. By 1947 themselves, and the line coach's favorite most college and NFL teams—but not the drill was to line up a rookie lineman one Giants—had adopted the T-formation. on one against a huge defensive tackle, Steve Owen would implement and begin to Tex Coulter, who was quick and agile and use the T regularly during the next two sea­ seemed to be all elbows and knees. Off the sons. field Coulter was a quiet and gentle man, Except for a few backs, most Giants but he played football with agitated feroc­ played both offense and defense because of ity. The rookie's object was to block and the NFL's limited substitution rules, which keep Coulter from crossing the scrimmage prevailed until 1949. (If a player left a line, and this was in a day when an offen­ game, he could not return until the next sive blocking lineman had to keep his quarter.) Football was still essentially a hands close to his body. As I recall, no game of eleven men on each team who rookie could handle Coulter, who later stayed on the field, first advancing the ball, was an All-Pro. covering punts and kickoffs, and then play­ Compared to today, most players were ing defense. There were no special teams; BILL HACHTEN not particularly large; most weighed Enters pro football guard Len Younce often punted for the between 190 and 215 pounds. The few STANFORD LiNEMAN Giants. Every player was expected to tack­ outsize Giants included Coulter, formerly le and block. A star receiver often would be SIGNS PH© PACT of West Point, who was 6' 4" and weighed Bin Hachten, AU-Coasl Stan­ a down lineman on defense. A star running ford guard, yesterday decided to over 260, and Chet Gladchuck, a center forego another year of collegiate back might play defensive halfback. Giant competition to join the pro ranks from Boston College who was 6 4 and by signing with the New York Frank Reagan, a single-wing tailback, led Giants for a reported $7,500 per weighed about 255. But the starting the conference in 1947 in intercepted pass­ year contract plus a bonus for inking- the pact. guards. Bob Dobelstein and the All-Pro es, with ten. The loss of Hachten leaves Len Younce, both weighed 210, which was Coach Marchie Schwartz with­ Players lacked the highly developed out an experienced guard for the also my weight. Almost all the backs were coming season since Harvey skills of today's specialists, but the old pros Bernhard and Dick Madigan are under 200 pounds. The lack of the great both graduating this year. were more complete players. Many line­ size that today's players bring to the game Courtesy of the author men often played sixty minutes. As the underscores the talent and savvy that the The Palo Alto (CA) Times game required in those earlier days. great Bronko Nagurski, who played until announced in May 1947 that Bill 1943, once commented: "We had eighteen Hachten had signed with the New No amount of talent and savvy shown York Giants. Although the amount men on a team and you played sixty min­ on the field that summer, however, could was reported incorrectly (the con­ utes, sometimes twice a week. If some of tract was for $6,000, the bonus erase one poor decision made by two play­ the big boys today played sixty minutes, $1,500), it was still big bucks for a ers off the field the previous year. The they might not be so big. They'd sweat jobless graduate. Giants were preparing for the 1946 cham­ more." pionship game against the Chicago Bears when the news That August at Superior was an austere and painful time; broke that the Giants' two best backs. Merle Hapes and Frank most players were stiff and sore throughout the month. Filchock, had failed to report a gambling bribe offered them Besides practice sessions and team meetings, there was not before the game. Hapes did not play that day, but Filchock much else to do. No one was permitted out at night, not even did; both were barred from professional football for life after to see a movie playing in one of the town's three theaters or the game ended. The gambling scandal and the loss of the to watch Superior's minor league baseball team, the Superior Giants' best passer, Filchock, hung like a dark cloud over the Blues, on a nearby ball field. In any case, the town of Superi- '47 team and added to the stress and anxiety at training camp.

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Courtesy of the author when the Los Angeles Rams played in a charity exhibition game at the Polo Grounds in September 1947, the image of popular singers fo Stafford and Perry Como appeared in the centerfold of the game pro­ gram. Cigarette ads in sports programs were common, and all types of celebrities—singers, actors, even sports figures—hawked the product. During that summer's camp we played exhibition games (Today Green Bay residents could make that same walk by in Green Bay, Chicago, and New York. The Giants as a pol­ going from the current Chamber of Commerce, the site of the icy avoided air travel for reasons of safety and the greater con­ train station, to Green Bay's East High School, the site of the venience of the rail system, so we traveled the 310 miles from old City Stadium.) I have a vague memory that we were in Superior to Green Bay by train. All the Giants, coaches and game uniforms for the walk. Assistant Coach Red Smith, who players alike, walked the mile from the railroad station to the had once played for Green Bay, received a lot of noisy atten­ old City Stadium along a path lined with numerous partisan tion from the fans. Maybe people in Superior weren't inter­ Green Bay fans offering pointed comments to their old rivals. ested in the Giants, but the good burghers of Green Bay m AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY

V 10' . // '^ll 'W^^M-

Racine Heritage IVIuseum One of the charter member teams of the National Football League, the Racine-Horlick Legion was cosponsored by American Legion Post 76 and William Horlick of Horlick's Malted Milk Company. Horlick is in the back row, number 26. The Legion played in the NFL from 1922 through 1924, compiling an overall record of fourteen wins, eleven losses, and six ties. Although the Racine Journal Times later reported that the team moved to Ohio following the 1924 season and ultimately became the Detroit Lions, no official record of that sale exists. Playing in the Cheese League n recent years various NFL teams have held their summer League. But few know about the state's three other NFL franchis­ training camps in Wisconsin, drawn by our comparatively cool es, in Milwaukee, Racine, and Kenosha. The Milwaukee Badgers Iweather, abundant opportunities for scrimmaging with other played for just five years and ended with fifteen wins, twenty-seven NFL teams, and the athletic facilities of UW System campuses. losses, and six ties. In 1922, their first year, the Badgers had been This informal array of training camps created what's been called expected to do well, because their roster at times included such the Cheese League. players as Fritz Pollard, Paul Robeson, Duke Slater, and Jimmy The Chicago Bears trained at UW-Platteville from 1984 to 2001 Conzelman (a future Hall of Famer), who was a player-coach after before moving back to Illinois in 2002. The Kansas City Chiefs 1923. Despite a good defense, the team met with little success. By started holding their training camp at UW-River Falls in 1990 and 1926 the Badgers folded after finishing with just two wins in nine in September 2001 signed an extension to return for two more games. years. The New Orleans Saints practiced for twelve years at The Racine-Horlick Legion, sponsored by the American Legion UW-La Crosse before moving their preseason camp back to Post 76 of Racine, entered the NFL in 1922 and lasted four sea­ Louisiana at Nichols State University in July 2000. sons. After a 1-3 start, the roster was bolstered by the addition of Throughout the 1990s, with the Green Bay Packers practicing at new players, including quarterback Chuck Dressen, better known their perennial camp at St. Norbert College in De Fere and the Min­ later as a baseball player and manager, and Ail-American Hank nesota Vikings just over the border at Mankato State College, the Gillo, who sparked the team to a 6-4-1 record. But attendance fal­ Cheese League provided ample opportunities for intersquad play. tered, and in 1925 the Legion moved to Ohio to become the The communities of Platteville, La Crosse, and River Falls wel­ Portsmouth Spartans. In 1926 Racine gained a new NFL franchise, comed the teams each year because they attracted flocks of curi­ the Racine Tornadoes. With a disastrous 1-4 start, the Tornadoes ous summer visitors. With the Bears' and the Saints' recent disbanded after just five games. departures, however, the Cheese League is full of holes. Finally, there were the even shorter-lived Kenosha Maroons of But in the 1920s Wisconsin boasted four NFL teams. Many Wis- 1924. Before the start of the 1924 season, the Toledo Maroons consinites know that in 1921 Curly Lambeau borrowed fifty dollars franchise was ordered by the league to transfer out of Ohio. So, for a license and led a small group to apply for a new NFL franchise with the same nickname and most of the same players, the fran­ that, with later community ownership, survived and thrived as the chise showed up at Kenosha to play football. After five games and Green Bay Packers, the third oldest team in the National Football no victories, the team simply shut down.

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T-Formation Single-Wing , A ^ A A A I A A A

Courtesy of the author During the late 1940s the quick-hitting and deceptive T-formation was taking the place of the power-oriented hut dated single-wing formation, which the Giants still favored—with scant success. certainly were. Curly Lambeau still coached Maybe people in muscle cramp. Despite the danger of heat the Packers, but Don Hutson, their great stroke, that was the rule with the Giants and receiver, had retired the year before, and their Superior weren't most other professional teams. My most vivid fortunes were in decline. The Packers' 1947 memory of Bear Mountain concerns the vast record was six wins, five losses, and one tie. interested in the amounts of iced tea we consumed during Yet the Packers' roster still had some of their Giants, but the evening meals after practice. Pitcher after stalwarts of that era: Tony Ganadeo, Teddy pitcher was quickly emptied. Fritsch, Buford "Baby" Ray, and Charley good burghers of Brock. fter our final exhibition game, the At the end of August the Giants traveled Green Bay long ordeal of training camp ended. I from Superior to Chicago, again by train. certainly were. A'wa s elated and greatly relieved to During the 1946 season the Giants had lost learn that I had survived the final cuts. There the League Championship game to the Chica­ was no dramatic letter-opening or meeting go Bears, 24-14, in a bitterly fought contest in with the coach. In fact, no one actually told which Giant tailback Frank Reagan's jaw was me I had made the team; I was just not told broken when it collided with the elbow of Bear 'hf/ that I hadn't. I remember seeing a posted list end Ed Sprinkle, a notoriously rough player. of those terminated. These unlucky fellows Vv \\ y/1 For this 1947 exhibition game, where officiat­ seemed to quickly disappear and were not ing was less rigorous than in games of record, mentioned again. several of our players took care of Sprinkle For the rest of us, it was on to New York with a specially prepared play in which two City and freedom from the confines and rigors players pinned Sprinkle down while several ILLEGAL MOTION or of training camp. Several other single players others kicked and trampled him. Sprinkle got FORMATION AT SNAP and I moved into the old Whitehall Hotel at Horizontal ore with the message. either hond. 100th and Broadway, where Steve Owen lived After Chicago the team headed east for year round in the penthouse. New York State and Bear Mountain State Park on the Hud­ Steve Owen's Giants were probably typical of pro football son River near West Point. There we stayed in the large inn, at that time and, in some ways, reflected the downside of the played an exhibition game down in New York City, and sport: harassment seemed to be the preferred method of trained for several more weeks in hot and humid weather. coercing performance out of players. Steve Owen cajoled and Players often lost ten or twelve pounds during a practice ses­ coerced his players with a mixture of gruffness, profanity, a sion because conventional wisdom dictated that they not sound knowledge of defensive football (although little real drink water during a two- or three-hour practice, or risk a expertise of offense) and mostly plain bullying. When a play-

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>-, er performed badly, on returning to the bench •:Ztni^ drrmaiiTwi,^ he would be often met with an outburst from Su/j Owen. The coaches spent little time teaching Veteran Gianf Guard Set for Coming Season players the fmer points of the game; it was hitsV] assumed players knew how to play. They just the T eighV had to be motivated to play well. Half baser: laurf / The team members, most of them college atrl i to Xt { graduates as well as World War II veterans, Bob ' hits < Onl were usually treated as incompetent and irre­ to ge Laml ' sponsible children. As Packer Henry Jordan once said of Vince Lombardi, assistant offensive He coach with the Giants from 1954 to 1958, "He treated everyone equal—like dogs!" Years later, reading insider books on pro football by Green Bay Packer Jerry Kramer (Instant Replay) and HAK ^, week i I tario t ! Dallas Cowboy Peter Gent (North Dallas with tlj lea fij Bilk, t^ Forty), I was struck by how little this basic rela­ a strUt high Si tionship between players and coaches had Kenneth "Kayo" Limday, veteran New York front office duties is one of the most astut« foot­ DAwso/ Giant KUard, hits a dummy during a workout at ball talent scouts in the business, is the shorts-clad Daw/ Superior State college field. Wellington "Duke" individual behind Lunday. — (Evening Telegram, prospf' changed through the '60s and '70s. Today I Mara, Giants" secretary, who in addition to his photo). that I sltlor/ think things have changed considerably. Players only 1^ squaj have more rights, are vastly better paid, and Jack Robinson I Worn have agents to bargain for them. Successful coaches now are better psychologists and man­ Superior Evening Telegram, August 14, 1947. P74-3499 agers, and with so many assistant coaches, a lot Kenneth "Kayo" Lunday, a veteran guard, hits a blocking dummy during a workout at Superior College. Standing behind him is more teaching goes on. Today's coaches are Wellington "Duke"Mara, who represented management at Giants better able to motivate players and instill in training camp. them team cohesion. who didn't seem to believe a player might get hurt. I think In my time, players submitted to Steve Owen's harass­ Owen truly suspected some injured players of malingering. As ment and psychological abuse in part because they had few a result players often played when hurt, sometimes with seri­ rights and little job security. Contracts were stacked against ous injuries, such as concussions or painful joint injuries dead­ the players, who could be traded at any time but could not ened by pain-killing injections. Much more so than today, become free agents and join another team unless they were team doctors and trainers served management and tended to fired and placed on waivers. If no other team picked up the support the coaches' views about whether or not a player waiver, the player could approach another team. If a player could return to a game. In New York the Giants' team physi­ played well, stayed healthy, and satisfied the coaches, all was cian was Dr. Francis J. Sweeney, a meek and timid man and fine. On the other hand, players could be cut at any time for Owen's brother-in-law. almost any reason and were without legal recourse. Some­ My roommate, John Cannady, a burly linebacker/center times injured players were terminated if the coach thought who played with reckless abandon, suffered frequent concus­ their usefulness might be over. In the days before a players' sions that season and was often delirious or "punchy" at half union, individual players had little leverage and were essen­ time in the locker room. Most players and staff members tially at the mercy of management. found these episodes amusing, and Cannady usually played Nearly thirty years later, Chicago Bears coach George the second half Medical science today takes concussions Halas complained bitterly that Dick Butkus, his All-Pro line­ much more seriously, and after several such injuries, stars backer, had been disloyal and ungrateful for suing the Bears such as the Jets' Al Toon, the 49ers' Steve Young, and the for playing him with an injured knee, which cut short Butkus's Cowboys' Troy Aikman were strongly urged to take early career and forced his retirement in 1973. Butkus won his suit, retirements. And they did. which helped to advance players' rights. The Giants also had a team dentist, a Dr. Arthur Croker, Injuries appeared to be a personal affront to Steve Owen, who waited until after players had lost a mouthful of teeth to

AUTUMN 2002 Y A N K S

OCTOBER 19 . 1947

Lhe Boston Yanks came to the Polo Grounds on October 19, 1947. Courtesy of the author Boston won, 14-0, before 37,144 disappointed Giants fans. WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

require a face mask. Cleveland's Paul Brown was the first Coming from college football, I was struck by how many coach to insist that his players wear some kind of protection good players there were and how fast the action was. Many for the face and mouth. fine players, and some great ones, were playing that year. In those days before television revenue greatly enriched Among the running backs that gave the Giants fits were the the NFL clubs, players were often left with chronic injuries Eagles' Steve Van Buren, Charlie Trippi and Pat Harder of that troubled them the rest of their lives. Knee injuries were the Chicago Cardinals, and Tony Canadeo of the Packers. the most common; in 1988 I had a total knee replacement The most effective passers were Sammy Baugh of the Red­ necessitated by a dislocation from my football-playing days. skins, Sid Luckman of the Bears, and Bill Dudley of the Steel­ Despite the insecurities, injuries, and overall abuse, play­ ers. Dudley played tailback and passer on the Steelers' single ing professional football was an exciting job, and many pros wing as well as defensive safety, often for an entire game. His played for the sheer fun of it. And there was a dour coach, Jock Sutherland, used Dudley this certain cachet about being with the New York Players often way because Dudley was simply the best play­ Giants and playing at the Polo Grounds. No er at both positions. With no free agency and one played pro football to get rich and become played when hurt, little trading, most played their entire careers financially secure for life. The ten NFL teams sometimes with with the team that signed them. Most new tal­ were highly competitive and played exciting ent came from the incoming rookies. football. In 1947 the NFL's Eastern Division serious injuries. included the Giants, Washington Redskins, nee the Giants moved into New Philadelphia Eagles, Pittsburgh Steelers, and York, their base both for morning the now-extinct Boston Yanks. In the Western o practice sessions and home games Division were the Chicago Bears, Chicago was the Polo Grounds, at Eighth Avenue and Cardinals, Green Bay Packers, Detroit Lions, West 159th Street in the Bronx, home also to and the Los Angeles Rams, who had moved the baseball Giants. The first time I walked from Cleveland in early 1946. into the rundown locker room to change for Pro football was a big-city sport mainly practice, I noticed the names of baseball covered by local newspapers and radio. Before Giants scrawled in chalk on metal lockers; I television, only a small fraction of Americans recall two in particular: Whitey Lockman and had ever seen a professional game. Yet in 1947 HOLDING Bobby Thomson. professional football was gaining popularity. Grotping of one wrist. In those days pro football clubs still seemed ILLEGAL USE of The great changes that television would bring HANDS er ARMS closely allied to the baseball clubs, which they both in public interest and in abundant fund­ Holding $ignol followed mirrored in various ways. Both were called by Interference Signol. ing for the teams were just beginning to take clubs and drafted and acquired rookies in hold. Each team made its own TV arrangements. That year much the same fashion. Pro football games were mostly George Halas sold the television rights for Chicago Bears' played at baseball parks: Chicago Bears at Wrigley Field, home games for a paltry $900 a game. In 1948 the Giants' Detroit Lions at Tiger Stadium, Philadelphia Eagles at Shibe owner, John Mara, successfully negotiated with NBC to pay Park, Boston Yanks at Fenway Park, Chicago Cardinals at $25,000 for the rights to telecast the Giants' twelve league Comiskey Park, and so on. games. The proposal was based on market research indicat­ The Giants did not have a practice facility of their own. ing that an estimated 67,000 sets in the New York area tuned The only real estate the club seemed to have were the offices in to Giants games. at 11 West 42nd Street, where tickets were also sold. The club But for most New Yorkers to see the "Jints," as some called was owned by the family of Tim Mara. One son, John (known the team, they had to go to the old Polo Grounds in the Bronx as Jack), handled the business side while the other, Wellington for one of the six home games. Reserved seats were $3, lower "Duke" Mara, was in charge of personnel and team matters. box seats $4, and bleacher seats were $1.25, tax included. Wellington attended every practice and meeting but never Attendance at the Giants' six home games that year ranged said much to our team. At the time of this article's writing, he from about 27,000 to 41,000 per game. Most fans arrived by is still active with the Giants organization and widely respect­ subway. I found Giants' supporters loyal, knowledgeable, and ed in the NFL. Jack, who never held as high a profile as his intensely partisan. younger brother, died in 1965.

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TR. r.. fiu». ... „.^.. . iii*l. 3S10 ' The team's sparse equipment and training facilities were located at the Polo Grounds; I <^^' don't remember much more than a couple of <^ trainers' tables and a whirlpool bath or two in I the locker room. However, the Giants had a ^^^:^"t first-rate trainer, Gus Mauch, who also worked for the New York Yankees during LAUGHS RING OUT baseball season. A friend from my Stanford days, Bobby Brown, who joined the Yankees FROM COAST TO as an infielder in 1947, recently recalled COAST! Mauch. "I remember him well. Despite [the] Gary loves Myma. Myma, limited facilities, he was a great trainer. He a judge, sentences hitn to" taught me how to tape an ankle in fifteen sec­ play the "hot rod" kid to cure her sister Shirley's in­ onds. And I can still do it today," said Brown, fatuation. Go ahead, Gary who became a cardiologist in Fort Worth and ...you take it from there! later president of the American League. In our 1947 season opener, the Giants, still lacking an effective passer, were tied by the Boston Yanks 7-7 and then proceeded to lose eight straight games. Needless to say, with each successive defeat the atmosphere became increasingly tense and sullen during MYRNA SHIRLEY practice sessions and team meetings at the Polo Grounds. At home games the box seats GRANT • LOY-TEMPLE right behind the Giant's bench were usually filled with friends of the Mara family, includ­ ing prominent Catholic clergy. All were with­ in earshot of the profane tirades Steve Owen R%'^^Hm heaped on any erring player who had just messed up—dropped a pass, fumbled, or RUDY VALLEE-RAY COLLINS • HARRY DAVENPORT-JOHNNY SANDS been penalized. I sometimes wondered how n—Friday, August 29,1947 those fans in particular reacted to Owen's Superior Evening Telegram, Aug. 29, 1947; P74-3499 antics. The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer was playing that August at Superior's Beacon movie theater. It's unlikely that any Giants saw the Without television, instant replay, or film, since they weren't allowed out at night during training camp.

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ST AUTUMN 2002 mmam Courtesy of the author The Giants pause for a team picture at Superior State College. This cheerful photo appeared in the Superior Telegram on August 28, 1947, and prompted the headline "New York Giants Fool Camera by Looking Harmless. Hachten is in back row, fifth from right." coaches with binoculars in the press box, it was sometimes difficuk for a coach to ascer­ Veteran Gianf Lineman GivesCoach a Ride tain what exactly happened on a particular play. A coach often had to wait until game films were available the following Tuesday. In one late-season game in '47, a Giants punt / waited with dread for the next team meeting, when I knew the films would expose my blunder was blocked, and Owen was livid. He demanded to know who was responsible. No one spoke up. I knew I was the culprit, but I didn't say anything. When the ball was New Yorl: Giant veteran Frank Cope smacks en on a rough ride as Cope and a Giant teammate. snapped, an opposing lineman had pulled me Into the "bucking"' machine with a i-psounding wal- hidden by the machine give the gadget a beating. j lop at Superior State college practice' field. That's —(Evening Telegram photo). forward, and another opponent slipped t assistant Coach Red Smith on the right, being tak- through the hole I had left and blocked the title fight to be held in the Los agers, Irving Cohen and Jae Costelio Trying for Angeles coliseum in October. Healy, asked for time to think punt. I waited with dread for the next team r "teflo .

^ AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

WHS Archives Place File This photo, dated about 1910, shows a dormitory at State Normal at Superior. The author believes this is the dorm where the Giants stayed for a month thirty-seven years later.

Steve managed to make each player feel guilty longest touchdown pass play in the NFL that and personally responsible for the latest deba­ year: 88 yards to Franck, a speedster from cle. When the Giants lost, you, as a player, ^> Minnesota. were expected to blame yourself and feel con­ ^m¥;^ Also among my teammates was the unusu­ trite until the following Sunday, when the al Jim Lee Howell, a 6' 6" pass receiver, who team might win and you could feel good about was playing his eighth and final season. Gray yourself again. But the Giants just kept on los­ haired, courtly, and courteous, he was called ing. To this day, if a team I follow closely, such "Senator" because he had once served in the as the Green Bay Packers, loses an important LOSS OF DOWN Arkansas legislature. After each morning prac­ playoff game, I find myself in a funk or depres­ (Follows signal for foul.) tice, Howell would take a subway to Staten sion similar to that I felt after each successive Topping both shoulders Island, where he coached the football team at with finger tips. Giants defeat in 1947. That's one of the resid­ Wagner College. On Saturdays he coached ual effects of playing professional football. the Wagner game, and then on Sundays he played for the Desperate for a passer, the Giants in midseason traded Giants. Seven years later Howell became the Giants' head their best running back. Bill Paschall, to Boston for Paul Gov- coach. ernali, the former Columbia Ail-American, who could pass well and did help the offense. Despite our miserable record, I he high point of that miserable season came on we had a number of fine players, most of whom had played in November 30, when the Giants finally won a league 1946 with a 7—3—1 record that won the Eastern Division. T:game , upsetting the league-leading Chicago Cardi­ Younce, Gladchuck, Coulter, Cannady, George Franck, and nals, 35-14, before 28,744 at the Polo Grounds. (The Cardi­ Howie Livingston were all first-rate players. Reagan threw the nals went on to win the League Championship that year.) The

^ AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

Courtesy of the author Owner Tim Mara, center, paid five hundred dollars in 1925 for the NFL's New York franchise. Ln 1947 Mara's son Jack (left) managed the business side and his son Wellington, known affectionately throughout the world of football as "Duke" (right), handled personnel. following week the Giants beat the Redskins, 35-10, their sec­ ond victory that year. The season ended in Los Angeles on December 14 with a final ignominious loss, 35—10, to the Rams. The Giants' season record of two wins, eight losses, and two ties was the worst that year in the NFL. The following season the Giants returned to Superior for the last time. Things began to pick up for the team; the great passer Charlie Gonerly and defensive back Emlen Tunnell, a future Hall of Famer, both joined the club. / was plagued by a pulled hamstring that did not respond to treatment.

I returned to Superior, ready for another year, but for several weeks in camp I was plagued by a pulled hamstring that did not respond to treatment. I missed the last several exhibition games before the season opened. I was still with the team when they moved into New York, but after the last practice session at Ford- ham University, right before the regular season started, the AP/Wide World Photos Wisconsin and the New York Giants were linked again several Giants decided not to take a chance on me, and I was cut from years ago when the Giants drafted Ron Dayne, the Wisconsin the roster. Though not unexpected, it was a severe personal Badgers' all-time leading rusher and Heisman Award winner. shock. At loose ends, I stayed around New York about a week try-

AUTUMN 2002 la Courtesy of the author Bill Hachten, top center, was one of the many faces ofprofessional football in the autumn of 1947. WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

The Author Professor Emeritus William A. Hachten taught journalism at the University of Wis­ consin-Madison from 1959 to 1989. From 1975 to 1980 he was director of the UW's School of Journalism and Mass Communi­ cation. A specialist in international commu­ nication and the media of Africa, he has written six books. ing to decide what to do. I finally returned to Southern California and, through con­ nections at Stanford, where I had studied journalism, I landed my first newspaper job on a small daily in Santa Paula. Later I felt I was fortunate to get out of profes­ sional football when I did. It was a mar­ velous experience, and luckily I have been mostly free of the chronic infirmities that plague many former players. Steve Owen lasted through the 1953 season as Giants coach. Then Jim Lee Howell took over and, with the help of two great assistant coaches, Tom Landry and Vince Lombardi, brought the Giants back to their winning ways and a league cham­ pionship in 1956.1 have never understood how the Maras permitted both Lombardi and Landry, who shaped the next genera­ tion of pro football, to get away from the Giants. But that was after my time. © New York DaWy News I did not return to Wisconsin until Jim Lee Howell (center), a teammate of Hachten's during his rookie year, replaced Steve Owen as coach of the New York Giants, eleven years later. After working six years acquiring perhaps the greatest assistant coaching staff in football on four newspapers in Southern Califor­ history: Tom Landry (left) on defense, and Vince Lombardi (right) nia, I decided on an academic career and on offense. By November 24, 1956, the date of this sideline photo, the fortunes of the New York Giants had improved vastly since entered the Ph.D. program in journalism Hachten's rookie season of 1947. at the University of Minnesota. After I completed my degree, the best job offer came from Wisconsin, so campus of the University of Wisconsin-Superior. Nowhere I returned to the state, coming to live in Madison in 1959 as an among the new buildings and sprawling campus could I find any instructor in the School of Journalism. I have lived here ever familiar landmarks. The practice field and the old frame dormi­ since. tory where the Giants stayed and practiced football that long-ago About ten years ago, I stopped one afternoon in Superior to August of 1947 were nowhere to be found. IM^ revisit the site of the Giants' former training camp, now on the

AUTUMN 2002 "g

AFTE R SLAVERY The Milwaukee Years of Louis Hughes

By Michael E. Stevens

fyou met Louis Hughes for the first time in the sum­ inton House, he started his own laundry business on the side. mer of 1870, you might assume he was an ordinary When that failed, he built upon his knowledge of folk and man. Managing the coatroom at Milwaukee's new herbal medicine and began to support himself and his family Planldnton House hotel, Hughes was one of only 176 in the 1880s by working as a nurse. He was a founder and JAfrican Americans living in Milwaukee, a city of 71,616. A leader of St. Mark's African Methodist Episcopal Church. In free man since 1865, Hughes had worked hard at various jobs his old age, he had the satisfaction of being one of the few during the previous five years. He had driven carriages in men of any race to write and publish an autobiography. Memphis, waited on tables in Detroit, and worked as a sailor We know about Hughes because of that book. Thirty on a Lake Michigan steamship. Hughes was also a good fam­ Years a Slave. Published in Milwaukee in 1897, Hughes's ily man. He had been married to his wife, book is a rare autobiography of a black Matilda, for twelve years and was the Hughes's book restores Milwaukeean. His story, however, does father of five-year-old Lydia and twin not begin in Wisconsin. Most of the book daughters Mattie and Charlotte, who to the present a voice narrates the story of Hughes's life as a were now three. (Three other children, of the African American slave. He recounts the emotional pain of who were bom when the couple were still being sold away from his mother at about enslaved, had died.) To the white patrons community's past. the age of eleven, astutely observes the who checked their coats with Hughes at interactions between slaves and masters, the Planldnton, Hughes probably seemed no different than and graphically tells of the physical brutality heaped on him many other blacks who held low-paying jobs in the hotel and his fellow slaves. Historians have mined his memoir for industry. what it tells about plantation life, the organization of work, Although living a seemingly commonplace life, Louis and the interactions between slaves. What has been explored Hughes was far from ordinary. Born into slavery, he put him­ less often, and which appears below, is his account of his free self at jeopardy as a young man by learning to read when that life in Milwaukee. Hughes does not tell us all we want to know act could have subjected him to severe punishment. During about him, such as his church work, details of his home life, the Civil War, he ran away from his master five times, becom­ or his relations with friends in the black community, yet his ing successful only on his last attempt, and then returned, book restores to the present a voice of the African American before the war's end, to free his wife and daughter. As a free comm unity's past. man, he was filled with ambition. While working at the Plank- Louis Hughes was born near Charlottesville, Virginia, in 1832, the son of a white man and a black slave woman. Tbis portrait of Louis Hughes served as the frontispiece of bis (Hughes's daughter listed her grandparents as 'John Hughes" autobiography, which was published in 1897, when he was sixty-five years old. The calm respectability of the man is evident and ''Susan Hughes" on her father's death certificate. in every detail. Hughes chose not to mention them by name in his autobiog­

WHS Archives Name File; WHi(X3)22243 raphy, but his brother, Billy, also used the surname Hughes in

AUTUMN 2002 a WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY the postwar era.) In 1844 the family was In reflecting on his years of slavery, divided when Louis, his two brothers, Hughes recalled that his old master was and his mother were separated and sold kinder and more humane than others to different owners. Hughes recalled a and that slaves on the plantation were half century later the devastation he felt better fed and clothed than slaves on at being separated from his mother and other plantations. Still, his master how he "could not help crying, often­ "lacked in that humane feeling which times for hours." Several months later, should have kept him from buying and young Hughes was sold once again, this selling human beings." Hughes remem­ time to Edward McGee, a cotton bered that the McGees were always planter from Pontotoc, Mississippi, for ready to donate to chanties but that $380. Hughes would remain a slave of they "lacked that fervent chanty, the the McGees for the next two decades, love of Christ in the heart, which if they first at a Mississippi plantation, then at had possessed they could not have McGee's home in Memphis, Ten­ treated us as they did." nessee, and finally, late in the Civil The Hugheses' final flight to free­ War, at a saltworks in Alabama. dom, just as the Civil War was ending, Hughes performed a variety of jobs, WHS Archives Name File; WHi(X3)32592 was Successful In the years immediate- ranging from running errands to work­ Matilda Hughes, Louis Hughes's wife in slavery ly after the war, Hughes worked in and freedom. Her history is inextricably linked ing in the cotton fields to serving as but­ Memphis driving carriages, did odd with her husband's, and thus his story ler in the Memphis home. is hers as well. jobs in Cincinnati and Hamilton, Ohio, While a slave, Hughes took an avid worked as a hotel porter in Windsor, interest in folk medicine, a skill that would serve him well in Canada, and waited on tables in Detroit, Michigan. In the his nursing career in Milwaukee. McGee "always showed me summer of 1867, Hughes took a job as a sailor on the steam­ each medicine named and had me smell and carefully exam­ er Saginaw, which usually ran from Green Bay to Escanaba, ine it that I might know it when seen again." Young Hughes Michigan. It is here that the story of Hughes's move to Wis­ "used to go to the woods and gather slippery elm, alum root consin and his life in Milwaukee begins. and the roots of wild cherry and poplar, for we used all these in compounding medicines for the servants." Whenever hen the sailing season had ended, the steamer McGee administered medicine to his slaves, Hughes accom­ tied up at Chicago for the winter. Upon going panied him. After moving to Memphis, Hughes continued to ashore, I at once tried to get something else to do, assist McGee in treating slaves who needed medical care. w for I could not afford to be idle a day. One of the first men I Hughes recalled, "I always had to prepare the medicines, and met in Chicago was my old friend and fellow-servant Thomas give the dose, the Boss standing by dictating. Working with Bland. He was glad to see me, and told me all about his medicine, giving it and caring for the sick were the parts of my escape to Canada, and how he had met Will McGee [broth­ work that I liked best" er-in-law of Hughes's former master], at Niagara Falls. He Louis Hughes's wife, Matilda, was born in 1830 in Ken­ [Bland] was working at the Sherman House, having charge of tucky and had been a slave of the McGees since 1855. The the coat room. I told him that I had been sailing during the couple were married on November 30, 1858, by the parish summer, but that the boat was now laid up, and that I was minister in the parlor of the McGee residence in Memphis. anxious for another job. He said he would try and see what he Hughes must have had a high status among the household could do for me. He went to the proprietor of the hotel, Mr. slaves because, as he wrote, "the Boss had always promised Rice; and, to my surprise and delight, he was so fortunate as that he would give me a nice wedding, and he kept his word." to secure me a position as porter and general utility man. My This favored status, however, did not prevent physical abuse, family were still at Windsor, Canada; and, when I had especially at the hands of Mrs. McGee. Hughes not only suf­ secured this place, I got leave of absence to make them a visit, fered beatings after his unsuccessful flights for freedom but and went there at once. Two babies had been born only a day had to endure seeing his wife whipped after she tried to before my arrival. I had hoped to be there on the interesting escape. occasion, but was too late. However, I was pleased to find two

AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY

^mi

fii- '''^^^^^^^r**

WHS Archives Place File The original Plankinton House filled a block of Grand Avenue. Lts grandeur was a testament to Milwaukee's emergence as a major city. bright little girls to aid in the family greeting, which was Milwaukee. I readily delightful after the months of separation. My wife, her sister accepted it for I was not Mary and her two children, her mother and the sister we getting a large salary, and found at Cincinnati were all still here [in Windsor] living the position which he together. offered promised more. After a visit of two weeks with my family, I returned to The Plankinton House was Chicago, and began my work at the Sherman House. I was opened in September, and full of energy and hope, and resolved to put forth every effort I was placed in full charge to make a man of myself, and to earn an honest living. I saw of the coat room; and, that I needed education; and it was one of the bitterest after I had been there WHS Archives Name File; NDB17957 remembrances of my servitude that I had been cheated out of some time, I had, in con­ Ln 1868 fohn Plankinton, a this inalienable right—this immeasurable blessing. I, there­ nection with my coat room prominent business and political fore, determined to do what was in my power to gain some­ duties, charge of the bell leader in nineteenth-century Mil­ thing of that of which I had been cruelly defrauded. Hence I stand. My wife had charge waukee, asked Louis Hughes to work at his new hotel. entered the night-school for freedmen, which had been estab­ of the waiter's rooms, a lished in the city, and faithfully attended its sessions during lodging house situated on Second street, one door from the months it was kept open. Grand Avenue. This was a brick building that stood where I worked at the Sherman House until August 1868, and, the west portion of the Plankinton now stands. The second during this time, saw many travelers and business men, and floor was used as our living rooms; the third and fourth floors made some lasting friends among them. Among these was constituted the sleeping apartments of the hotel waiters. My Mr. Plankinton. He seemed to take a fancy to me, and offered wife looked after these apartments, saw that they were clean, me a situation in the Plankinton House, soon to be opened in and had a general supervision of them.

AUTUMN 2002 ^ WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY

Virginia Historical Society "A Slave Market in America, 1862" by Levevref. Cranstone. The painting depicts a slave auction in Richmond, Virginia. Hughes was sold at a slave market in Richmond in 1844, at age eleven. "When L was placed upon the block, a Mr. McGee came up and felt of me and asked me what L could do." After the hotel had been running a little over a year, I saw "my wife, my brother and all his family are here. There is a there was a chance for me to make something at laundry party of us on a pleasure trip through the north." I soon work. I was allowed to take washing from any of the guests learned that they had visited at Waukesha springs, and had who desired their work done privately. In this way I worked been at the hotel only a few hours, waiting for the boat for up quite a business. I still continued my coat room duties, as Grand Haven. I hastened to bring my wife to see them and my wife managed the laundry work. Our laundry business got back with her just in time. They were already in the 'bus, increased so rapidly I deemed it best to change our quarters but waited for us. We very cordially shook hands with them. from Second street to 216 Grand avenue, which seemed bet­ They asked me why I had come so far north, and I replied ter suited for our purpose. Here the business continued to that we kept traveling until we found a place where we could grow until it reached proportions of which we had little idea make a good living. They wished us success and the 'bus when we began it. rolled away. One day while I was at the Plankinton I happened to be While I was at the Plankinton House many of the travel­ coming through the hall, when whom should I meet but Col. ing men seemingly liked to talk with me when they came to Hunting, son-in-law of old Master Jack McGee, of Mississip­ the coat room to check their things. I remember one day pi. We came face to face, and I knew him at once, but he only when conversing with one of these gentlemen, he asked, all of partially recognized me. He said: "I know your face, but can a sudden: "Say, Hughes, have you a brother?" I answered: not recall your name." I said: "Don't you know Louis "Yes, I had two, but I think they are dead. I was sold from McGee?" He then remembered me at once. "Why," said he. them when a mere lad." "Well," said he, "if you have a broth- m AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY er he is in Cleveland. There is a fellow "TVlP •nTO^inPrt oF^iPPinP" •'• ^^^^ good news for you." I grew so there who is chief cook at the Forest City excited I could hardly stand still. "Well," Hotel who looks just like you." I grew my brOthcr, loSt SO many he said, "you told me that you had a eager at these words, and put the same brother whose name was William, but question to him that I did to the man on years before, made me called Billy for short?" "Yes," I said. "Did the steamer when I was sailing: "Has he your brother Billy have his fore-finger one fore-finger cut off?" [While Hughes almost wild with joy" chopped off by his brother Louis, when, was working as a sailor, another crew as boys, they were one day playing member had told him of meeting someone named Billy together?" "Yes," I replied. "Then I have found your broth­ Hughes who resembled him.] He laughed and answered: er," he said. "I have seen the man in Cleveland, and he cor­ "Well, I don't know, Hughes, about that; but I do know this: roborates your story in every particular. He says that he was His name is Billy and he resembles you very much. FU tell you bom in Virginia, near Charlottesville, and was owned by one what FU do, when I go back to Cleveland on my next trip FU John Martin." I knew now, beyond question, that this was my look and see if that fore-finger is off." Now that the second brother William. Words failed me to express my feelings at person had called my attention to the fact that there was a this news. The prospect of seeing my brother, lost so many man in Cleveland who looked very much like me, I became years before, made me almost wild with joy. I thanked the deeply interested—in fact, I was so excited I could hardly do agent for the interest he had taken in me, and for the invalu­ my work. I awaited the agent^js return with what of patience able and comprehensive information he had brought. He I could command; and, at last, one day, when I was least could hardly have done me a greater favor, or bound me to expecting him, I was greeted with these words: "Hello, Hughes! him by a more lasting obligation.

Dispelling a Myth: Applying Genealogy to Louis Hughes

n the study of African American history, there is an unfortu­ Historical Society and at its Area Research Centers (ARCs) nate myth that finding solid genealogical data on African around the state. Or go to the WHS's Online Genealogical IAmericans is a near impossibility. Not necessarily, says Research Service at www.wisconsinhistory.org/genealogy. For Dee Grimsrud, genealogist and member of the WHS Archives instance, the marriage record of Mattie Hughes to Robert Gant staff. Although Hughes's account is distinctly personal, he indicates there were other Hughes relatives, and research on chose to share only certain details, leaving gaps in his story. them can reveal more about Louis and the family. Many family researchers have faced the same situation. Grim­ • Contact the Milwaukee County Historical Society at srud explains that researchers can learn more about the WAWw.milwaukeecountyhistsoc.org. Hughes was well-known in Hughes family or their own family story using the basic his community, and a general inquiry at the county historical genealogical strategy of starting with only what is known. State society level led to the discovery of an article in their archives Historian Michael Stevens used many of the following resources reporting the death years of Hughes's wife and daughters. and procedures in researching Hughes's story. The process • Search the Wisconsin Local History and Biography Articles provides a good example for conducting similar research. at WAWw.wisconsinhistory.org/wlhba/index.asp. The obituaries • Search the indexes and then the population schedules in included there show that Hughes died on January 19, 1913. the State and Federal Censuses, locating the family in each • Order a copy of Hughes's death certificate from either the one. The 1870 Census indicates a sixty-nine-year-old female Wisconsin Department of Health and Social Services named Ellen Narbot was living with the Hughes family, and next (wAww.dhfs.state.wi.us/vitalrecords/index.htm) or the Milwaukee door were Mary Dandrid, age forty-two, and Dolly Parker, age County Register of Deeds. Hughes's death certificate shows he forty-six. All three are listed as black in the race category, and was buried at Forest Home Cemetery in Milwaukee. all are from Kentucky or Canada, places mentioned in Hughes's • Obtain the cemetery's phone number from www.interment.net narrative. It is reasonable to assume that Narbot was Matilda's and ask for records on the names Dandrid(ge), Gant, Hughes, mother, Dandrid and Parker her two sisters. Since Louis has no and Parker. Results include birth, death, and burial dates, plus living descendants, researching this line of the family now burial plot locations. Order death records using the death dates. becomes desirable. Admittedly, all of the above research is in post-Civil War • Locate Louis Hughes in the Milwaukee City Directories records, and searching for details on African Americans before beginning in 1869-70 to learn more about the location of the 1865 is more difficult. A helpful resource is Black Roots: A family's various residences. Beginner's Guide to Tracing tiie African American Family Tree • Look for Hughes in the Pre-1907 Wisconsin Birth, Marriage, by Tony Burroughs. and Death indexes, which are on microfiche at the Wisconsin

AUTUMN 2002 Q WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

My first step was to arrange for a leave of absence from my work, which I found no difficulty in accomplishing, and by night I was aboard the express going to Cleveland. My excitement did not dimin­ ish as I sped on my journey, and the speed of the express was too slow for my eager anticipations. Upon reaching Cleveland I went directly to the hotel where I was told my brother was employed, and inquired at the office for Billy Hughes. A bell boy was summoned to take me around to the department where he was. When we met neither of us spoke for some moments— speech is not for such occasions, but silence rather, and the rush of thoughts. When the first flash of feeling had passed I spoke, calling him by name, and he addressed me as brother. There seemed to be no doubt on either side as to our true relationship, though the features of each had long since faded forever from the memory of the other. He took me to his house; and each of us related his story with such feelings as few can fully appre­ ciate. He told me that he had never heard anything of our mother or brother. He went back to the old home in Virginia, after the close of the rebellion, but could get no trace of her. As we related our varied experiences—

ffie hardships, the wrongs and sorrows WHS Archives Place File; WHi(X3)32588 which we endured and at last the coming With its cornerstone laid on December 5, 1886, St. Mark's African of brighter days, we were sad, then happy. Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church was the first house of worship for Milwaukee's still tiny African American population. It seemed, and indeed was, wonderful that we should have met again after so long a separation. The time not but rejoice and give praise to God for the blessings ffiat I allotted to my visit with him passed most pleasantiy, and all had experienced in the years since my bondage, and especial­ too quickly; and, as I looked into ffie faces of his wife and chil­ ly for this partial restoration of the broken tie of kindred. I had dren, I seemed to have entered a new and broader life, and long since learned to love Christ, and my faiffi in him was so one in which ffie joys of social intercourse had marvelously firmly established that I gave him praise for each and every expanded. When I came to saying good-bye to him, so close ray of happiness that came into my life. did I feel to him, ffie tie between us seemed never to have been I continued the laundry work, in connection with that at broken. That week, so full of new experiences and emotions the hotel, until 1874.1 had been in ffie Plankinton House ffien can never be erased from my memory. After many promises six years and a half. The laundry business had increased to of ffie maintenance of the social relations thus renewed, we such an extent that my wife could not manage it all alone. I, parted, to take up again ffie burdens of life, but with new inspi­ therefore, gave up my position at the hotel, and went into the ration and deeper feeling. laundry work on a somewhat larger scale than ffiat upon I came back to my work with renewed vigor, and I could which we had been conducting it. We were still doing business

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WHS Archives, J. Robert Taylor collection; WHi(X3)30459 Around 1905 the African American presence in Milwaukee had begun to emerge, although European immigrants far outnumbered black individuals. at 216 Grand avenue, and there we remained untU 1876; somewhat famous resort, but which had lost its prestige, and when we removed to more commodious quarters at 713 on entered upon a general decHne; the hotel and aU its surround­ the avenue. But we remained there only a few months, when ings presenting the appearance of general dilapidation. I we removed to 134 Fourth street in the rear. The establish­ remained here with the doctor for two weeks—untU they suc­ ment here was fitted up with aU modern appHances; but I was ceeded in getting another person to care for him. I then took not so successful as I anticipated. My losses were heavy; and a run down to New Orleans. though the facilities for doing the work were much better than On this southern trip I had the opportunity of observing those which we had before possessed, the location was not so the condition of the country through which we passed. Many accessible or inviting. We, therefore, went back to our former of the farms seemed neglected, the houses dUapidated, or location at 713 on the avenue. abandoned, the fields either uncultivated and overgrown with Not long after this. Dr. Douglas, a prominent physician of bushes, or the crops struggUng with grass and weeds for the the city at that time, was in faiUng health, and, wishing a mastery, and presenting but little promise of a paying har­ nurse, I was recommended to him for this service by a friend. vest [.] In some places the bushes and other undergrowffi were I served the doctor in this capacity every night for three fifteen feet high, and the landscape was pecuHar and by no months. I then went with him to McComb, a village in south­ means inviting. I could remember the appearance of the cot­ ern Mississippi, which had been, in the days of slavery, a ton farms in slavery days; but how changed were things I now

^ AUTUMN 2002 Illustrated Historical Atlas of Wisconsin 1870; graphic by Joel Heiman In 1870 Milwaukee was in the midst of an industrial boom, and Louis Hughes and his extended family lived, worked, and worshiped in a small downtown area. Over the years African American residents of the city would slowly push their way out of this neighborhood, moving mainly north and west. WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

of interest in the city were the cemeteries. Owing to the low level of the ground and its saturation with water, burials are sel­ dom made in graves, but instead in tombs n If Vf f built of brick or marble or other stone, in which are constructed cells running back from the front and of a size and shape suf­ ficient to admit a coffin. Then, as soon as fiUed, they are sealed up. These tombs Ml. JoMpli .Iciiiiiiitr* n vp(( iliilly iiiruiniN lii^ friciids iiiiil tli<' jHiMic tliaf, at tho n-ijiuiit of inaiiji u('i|n:iiiitaii('<->. hf lia> IH-«II iiuliurd to ]im«li:iM' frdiii Mr. ()>l>orii<-, of Mis.M>iiri, tlu' wU'bratfd contain from two to six or eight, or even more of these cells, and their general appearance from the front is not unlike that of a section of maU boxes in a post office. Other places of interest were the old m m iota, ITU, French market, the pubHc squares and .Xirril five yfar>. Mpiari' trotici- and w.iriantcd MHIIKI; \vith a m-w liitht Trotting Bu :^y and Ilariieiw SjUo. tile dark. .>.t, jrcncral Imiisc .>.ii\a!it, >alu«'«l at nine hinulred dollan, and j;iiaraiitei>d, and of the Hotel Royal, which would contain several hundred at once, and from which be Raffled for hundreds went to a bondage bitterer than At 4 «'s«- juTMins »h » may wish to «'!ipi)fo in tho i-sual prdctioe of raffling, will, I assure them, be pel death, and from which death was the only f«MtIy sitisfi*"*! with tlicir di'stiny in this affair. relief The wh«h' is vulurest4;d subseribers pn>sent. Eire nighi deprived of a course of training, I felt that will be allowed to «)mplet<' the'lLifHe. BOTH f F tllK A HOVE DESCRIBED CANi^E SEEB AT MY STORE, No. 78 Common St., MH-ond c lor fnwn Camp, at fnmi 9 o'eloek A. SC. to2P. M I was not too old to try, at least, to learn Highest thn>w to take the first ehoiM'; th« lowest throw the remaining prize, and the fortonai winners will pjiy twenty dollars eacogniz«d unless paid f r prt>TiouM to the commencement. Dr. Douglas gave me a splendid recom­ J'»S£PH JENNINGS. mendation, and had some cards printed, bearing my name and address. These I dis­ WHS Archives, CF 94584 tributed, and thus began the business Being raffled off in the same manner as a bay horse was one of the countless examples of the inhumanity slaves endured. Louis Hughes which I have followed steadily since that never claimed his life of freedom in Milwaukee was ideal, only that it time. Dr. Marks very kindly recommend­ was a life that could be lived with dignity. ed me to well known men needing the saw! They did not look at aU Hke those which I had been service of a nurse, and to his professional associates; and accustomed to see. Everything was dismal and uninviting. The through this means, and through his continued kindness and entire country passed through in Mississippi looked like a interest, I have been almost constantly engaged in this work. I wUderness. This deterioration was the natural result of the am also indebted to Drs. Fox and Spearman and other promi­ devastating war which had swept the country, and to the nent physicians for recommendations which have resulted in industrial revolution which followed and to which affairs had securing me employment which has proved remunerative to not been adjusted. me, and which seemed to give entire satisfaction to the sick When I arrived at New Orleans I found the levee filled and their friends. This is no small part of the compensation in with fruit. Oranges and bananas were piled in masses like coal, the difficult, often wearing, and always delicate duties of the and the scenes in this portion of the city were very different nurse in the sick room. To every true man or woman it is one from anything one sees in the north. Among the many places of the greatest satisfactions to have the consciousness of hav-

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Milwaukee Public Library 756-2-17-71 Above: Construction workers, c. 1895, erecting Milwaukee's City IbLJ^.j juiNJSi—oiAiti iviuiN 1 jfi. [yu aays. Hall, a building in the Flemish Renaissance style. Barred from most professional craft careers, African Americans in Milwaukee held service and laborer jobs. Right: This antislavery tract from about 1838 portrayed the cruelties of slavery on families in particular. As Hughes remembered, after Matilda's attempt to escape, "They at once went to the bam where my wife was tied to the joist, and Boss and the madam beat her by turns. . . . My twin babies lived only six months after that." ing been useful to his feUow beings. My duties as nurse have taken me to different parts of the state, to Chicago, to CaHfor- nia and to Florida; and I have thus gained no Httle experience, not only in my business, but in many other directions. Ev'n her babes, sn dear, so young, The-e, ev'n these, were torn away ! And so treasured in her heart, These, that, when nil else were gone, I have endeavored, in the foregoing sketch, to give a clear Th tt the cords whicli round them clung, Cheered the heart with orie briglit ray, and correct idea of the institution of human slavery, as I wit­ Seemed its life, its dearest part; That .'till bade its pulse beat on ! WHS Archives, CF 94584 nessed and experienced it—its brutality, its degrading influ­ ence upon both master and slave, and its utter incompatibUity with industrial improvement and general educational 'n the nearly thirty years between Louis Hughes's arrival progress. Nothing has been exag[g] crated or set down in mal­ in Milwaukee and the publication of his account, he had ice, although in the scars which I stiU bear upon my person, / seen many changes. The city's population had quadru­ and in the wounds of spirit which will never wholly heal, there pled, from over 70,000 to nearly 300,000. Milwaukee's black might be found a seeming excuse for such a course. Whatever population had also grown at the same rate but still stood at of kindness was shown me during the years of my bondage, I fewer than 900 souls. Although the city's economy had been still gratefully remember, whether it came from white master transformed by the industrial boom over these decades, blacks or fellow slave; and for the recognition which has been so gen­ still largely held jobs as domestics and unskilled laborers, and erously accorded me since the badge of servitude was they faced problems of discrimination. In his autobiography, removed, I am profoundly and devoutly thankful. Hughes does not address these problems, perhaps partly from

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January 19, 1913. His death merited obit­ uaries in several Milwaukee newspapers, including the Milwaukee Free Press, the Milwaukee Journal, the Evening Wiscon­ sin, and the Milwaukee Leader, The Mil­ waukee Journal ran the obituary under the headlines "Man of Character" and "Story of His Life Is Record of Stirring Experiences and Remarkable Successes." Although his obituaries noted his escapes to freedom, Louis Hughes was not a man to be defned by his condition as an ex-slave. As he himself said, he was "full of energy and hope, and resolved to put forth every effort to make a man of myself" He felt successful in his nursing career, noting that "to every true man or

From History of St. Benedict the Moon Catholic Colored Mission woman it is one of the greatest satisfac­ The "ColoredMission Band" from St. Benedict the Moor's Catholic mis­ tions to have the consciousness of having sion in Milwaukee, 1912. St. Benedict Moor, as the church and its been useful to his fellow beings." school have been nicknamed, played a prominent role in the city's African American community. It is still operational today, providing What motivated Louis Hughes to set food, clothing, health care, and shelter programs to area residents and down the story of his life? He did so part­ a spiritual anchor to Milwaukee's African American community. ly because of the urging of his friends, but a wish not to offend the well-to-do white clientele who could he was also driven by his desire to be useful. Hughes believed afford his services or perhaps because of his desire to draw a that history was important and hoped that his book would "add sharp contrast between his life in the South as a slave and his something of accurate information regarding the character and life in the North as a free man. influence of an institution which for two hundred years dominat­ Hughes was sixty-Eve years old when he published his ed the country." He thought that future generations depended account, and he had nearly another two decades of life ahead of on "the thoughtful study of the history of those that have gone him. Around 1901 he (and probably Matilda) moved in with before." Louis Hughes helped accomplish that, and more. IMi( their daughter, Mattie. In 1889 Mattie had married Robert Louis Hughes's text is taken from Thirty Years a Slave. From Bondage to Freedom. The Institu­ Gant, a waiter at the Plankinton House and later steward at the tion of Slavery as Seen on the Plantation and in the Home of the Planter (Milwaukee: Soutli Side Printing Company, 1897), pp. 197-210. The text is rendered hterally, with corrections and edito­ Milwaukee Press Club and a masseur. The Gants and the Hugh­ rial explanations noted within brackets. Subheadings, which appeared before nearly every para­ graph, have been omitted. es lived together at several locations, fmally settling at 1207 9th Street, now 2961 N. 9th Street. (Mattie continued to live at the For Further Reading The Library of Congress's American Memory Project has placed a version of Hughes's autobi­ 9th Street house after the deaths of her father in 1913 and her ography online at http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/umhtml/umhome.html. Steven V. Ash, histo­ ry professor at the University of Tennessee-BCnoxville, is preparing a book entitled A Year in husband in 1918. During the 1920s and 1930s, she worked for the South (Palgrave Macmillan, October 2002), which focuses on the experiences of Hughes and the Milwaukee Urban League as a social worker.) three other Southerners. Louis Hughes remained active in St. Mark's African Methodist Episcopal Church, a church that he helped found in The Author 1869, where he served as class leader, steward, and trustee. Michael E. Stevens Is State Historian When the congregation published a history in 1907, Louis and of Wisconsin and administrator of the Society's Public History Division. A Mil­ Matilda Hughes were among the few lay members meriting pho­ waukee native, Stevens holds a Ph.D. in tographs and write-ups. The church praised Louis as a successful history from the University of Wiscon­ fundraiser, noted that Matilda Hughes was Erst stewardess, and sin-Madison. He is the author or editor of described their daughters, Lydia, Mattie, and Lottie as "thor­ more than a dozen books and neariy two ough going church women, capable, faithful, and instant." Matil­ dozen articles. da Hughes died on October 7, 1907, and Louis lived on until

AUTUMN 2002 H Library of Congress RobertM. La I'ollcllc senior (right) groomed both sons, Bob and Phil, to carry on his political work, but Young Bob (left) carried the heavier weight of his father's considerable political expectations. The Crisis Years An Excerpt from Young Bob: A Biography of Robert M. La Follette, Jr By Patrick J. Maney

Robert M. La Follette,Jr., whose career spanned the tumul­ author of legislation that endures to the present day. As the Wis­ tuous years from Coolidge prosperity, through the Great consin Historical Society Press's new edition of the only full- Depression and World War II, to the Cold War and McCarthy- scale biography of La FoUette, and the first to exploit La Fol- ism was the son ofWisconsin's legendary progressive leader, lette's voluminous collection of personal papers, makes clear. "Fighting Bob" La FoUette. Young Bob entered the U.S. Sen­ Young Bob was one of the best senators in history but also one ate upon his father's death in 1925. At the age of thirty, he was of the most tragic. As a young man Young Bob was shaped by the youngest senator since Henry Clay. He made his mark on the example and experience of his father, but, as this excerpt national life as a key architect of Franklin Roosevelt's New reveals, his nature and temperament would make him a much Deal, a leading champion of labor rights and civil liberties, and different kind of politician.

New from the Wisconsin Historical Society Press hen twenty-two-year-old Bob La FoUette public sentiment to avert war. Although a majority in Con­ arrived in Washington late in February gress supported the armed-ship bill. La FoUette had time on 1917, he found his father working frantical­ his side, for Congress was set to adjourn in just nine days. W ly to keep the United States out of war. The Although the House passed the armed-ship bill, a week elder La FoUette was not a pacifist, but he did believe that the went by without the Senate taking any action. Then, on Sat­ current war was strictly a European affair. To him it was just urday, March 3, twenty-four hours before adjournment, the one more of the seemingly endless struggles between imperi­ supporters of the administration decided to hold the Senate in alistic nations of the Old World, and neither national securi­ continuous session until they could force a vote. Just as deter­ ty nor violations of international law required American mined to prevent a roll call. La FoUette and a handful of like- intervention. He believed that minded senators launched a if the United States did enter filibuster. Throughout Satur­ the war, the only victor would day evening and early Sunday be the nation's already swollen morning, opponents of the bill business and financial elite; and held the floor. La FoUette, he feared that, in addition to planning to speak last, stayed in the countless thousands who his office and worked on his would sacrifice their lives, the address. Bob, Jr., remained on progressive movement and the Senate floor to help man­ even democracy itself might be age the filibuster. casualties. Never before had La At eight-thirty on Sunday FoUette been so convinced of morning. Senator La FoUette the rightness of his cause. entered the chamber with the Adding to his determination intention of holding the floor was his belief that the "people," until adjournment. But the pre­ Library of Congress especially the people of Wis­ siding officer of the Senate Maple Bluff Farm, on the shores of Lake Mendota, was where the consin, nearly half of whom La FoHettes lived between sessions of Congress after Fighting Bobrefuse d to recognize him. were of German ancestry, was elected to the U.S. Senate in 1905. Parents Belle and Bob Enraged, the Wisconsin sena­ opposed intervention. hoped the children, including Young Bob, would develop the tor jumped out of his seat, agrarian virtues of self-reliance and responsibility through their Bob shared his father's con­ exposure to country living. moved into the center aisle, victions, and during his first and shouted for recognition. In days in Washington he watched with dismay as the nation reaction, a group of Democrats rushed into the aisle toward moved toward war. On February 20 the Senate debated the La FoUette, trying to shout him down. Sen. Harry Lane of administration's request for an appropriation of one-half bil­ Oregon, a close friend of La FoUette, believed that La FoUette lion dollars to expand the army and navy. "In getting ready was in danger of physical attack, for he later claimed that one to suppress German militarism," Bob complained, "we are of the Democrats, OUie James of Kentucky, had a pistol out germaning the Germans." The next day he reported that under his coat. To protect La FoUette, Lane followed James the Senate was considering a revenue bill "which intends to up the aisle, ready to plunge a knife into his neck should he make the small businessman of the country pay for our mili­ draw the gun. Although the shouting continued, no fight tary establishments; of course he will pass it all along to poor actually broke out. Mr. Consumer and as usual he will pay the price." Bob, standing just inside the door of the Senate chamber, The preparedness drive reached a climax a week later watched all this with alarm. When things momentarily quiet­ when President Woodrow Wilson, seeking to defend Ameri­ ed down, he dashed off a short note to his father: "Please, can commercial vessels from German submarine attack, Please, be calm—you know what the press will do—remember asked Congress for the power to arm merchant ships. Con­ Mother." When the debate heated up again, and Senator La vinced that such an action made war certain, Senator La Fol- FoUette angrily declared, "I will continue on this floor until lette leaped to the attack. He believed that if he could delay somebody carries me off, and I should like to see the man who passage of the bill, he might still have time to arouse enough will do it," Bob again warned his father: "You are noticeably WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

& extremely excited. For god's sake make your protest & pre­ vent passage of the bill if you like but ... do not try to fight senate physically. I am almost crazy with strain." The wran­ gling continued for hours, with La FoUette constantly trying to secure the floor. Finally, at noon, the Senate adjourned without taking a vote on the armed-ship bill. The successful fiHbuster brought a barrage of criticism. The next day, newspapers throughout the country carried Woodrow Wilson's denuncia­ tion of the "little group of will­ ful men, representing no opinion but their own," who had "rendered the great gov­ ernment of the United States helpless and contemptible." WHi(L51)29, Album 25.136 Young Bob with his mother, Belle Case La Pollette, in Lajollu, Editorials followed suit: one California, 1919- La Pollette spent nearly a year in a small rented called the willful men "Knaves cottage in Lajolla recovering from one of the many mysterious who betrayed the nation in the illnesses that plagued him throughout his life. interest of Germany," another referred to "La FoUette and his temperament. Bob was more cautious than the senator, more little group of perverts." Cartoonist RoUin Kirby, in the New sensitive to criticism, and more concerned about the political York World, pictured the hand of Germany pinning the Iron consequences of actions. Cross on La FoUette. The senator also suffered personal On April 2, 1917, Woodrow Wilson called for a declara­ abuse. He and Bob were forced to stop riding the streetcar in tion of war. On April 4, after a three-hour speech, which Bob order to avoid the hateful stares of fellow passengers, some of described as "one of the greatest, if not the greatest he has whom even spat upon the senator. Through it all. Bob echoed done in the Senate," the elder La FoUette joined five other his father's determination. "Whatever the press or the people senators and fifty representatives in voting against the decla­ may say or do I am satisfied that the course taken was one ration of war. "Henceforth," declared the Boston Evening that had delayed war . . . ; and delay is always possible of a Transcript, "he is the Man without a Country." turn which may help to bring us thru the madness." Undaunted, Senator La FoUette kept up the attack. He Yet, however much Bob supported his father's opposition opposed conscription, introduced legislation to ensure the to war, he was somewhat skeptical of his means of expressing rights of conscientious objectors, and worked for a tax system it. During the armed-ship debate. Bob had urged restraint that would prevent any person or corporation from profiting and caution. Then, in the wake of the public outcry, he from the war. . . . advised his father to draft a detailed public statement explain­ "Things have been moving along here so rapidly," Bob ing his opposition to the bill. Bob felt that if people under­ wrote to [younger siblings] Phil and Mary, "that it just takes stood the senator's reasoning, they might be less inclined to one's breath away. ... It is indeed sad to be here and see all criticize him. When the senator ignored his son's plea. Bob the cherished institutions of our beloved country thrown telegraphed his mother in Wisconsin and asked her to appeal away on the scrap heap aU in the name of democracy. to him. Thus, Bob revealed a difference between himself and Democracy, thy name is not war and alas most assuredly not his father, not one of principle, but one of personality and the Democracy of WUson." Forced conscription particularly

AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY upset him. It was, he believed, an absolute "reversal of the impressed his father that he considered making Bob business history of this and every other democracy." manager and editor of La FoUette's Magazine, a weekly pub­ Principle aside. Bob had a more compelling reason to be lication that the senator had founded in 1909. The magazine concerned about conscription. At age twenty-two, and with a was in serious trouble; sales were down, and the threat of gov­ lottery number of 2117, he expected to receive a draft notice ernment censorship posed a constant worry. Bob, his father by the end of the summer. Although he believed the war to be believed, would get it back on its feet. But Belle had less con­ morally wrong, he, like his father, was not a fidence in her son's abilities, and pointing to pacifist. He therefore never gave serious his inexperience, she vetoed the plan. consideration to declaring himself a consci­ Bob probably would have been happy to entious objector. But he did, for a time, return to Madison and assume manage­ think of joining the National Guard; his ment of the magazine, since life in Wash­ father, after soliciting advice from legal ington was becoming more depressing by experts, had concluded that the Guard the day. The attacks on his father contin­ could not lawfully leave the country to fight ued, and although Bob could take consola­ overseas. But Bob rejected these options tion in the numerous letters of support, the and placed his hopes on a medical defer­ hate mail was also increasing. But all of this ment. Early in June he filled out the regis­ was minor in comparison to the outcry that tration form and applied for an exemption followed his father's famous speech, on Sep­ on the grounds of "poor physical condition tember 20, 1917, to the Non-Partisan caused by protracted illness." Although his League in St. Paul, Minnesota. In the personal physician assured Bob that any course of his extemporaneous remarks, the examiner who passed him "would be a fit senator said that although the United States inmate for an insane asylum," the family had had "serious grievances in Germany," spent an anxious summer waiting for the Library of Congress After winning a special election to fill those grievances did not warrant a declara­ time Bob would have to appear for his his father's seat. La FoUette became, at tion of war. In its account of the speech, the physical examination. But on 24 August, age thirty, the youngest U.S. senator in Associated Press misquoted La FoUette as over a century. the examining doctor declared him unfit for having said that the United States had "no military service. . . . grievances against Germany." The next day, newspapers With the threat of the draft behind him, Bob avidly plunged throughout the nation carried the story under blazing head­ into the work of his father's office. His main duty was to han­ lines. But even an accurate account of the speech probably dle the large volume of mail, on some days as many as five would have meant trouble for La FoUette, since it was decid­ hundred letters. "Bobbie," the senator proudly reported, "has edly antiwar and questioned Wilson's integrity. For many the the run of this old correspondence and can handle it more rap­ misquotation provided concrete evidence that the senator idly than anyone else—He writes or dictates a splendid letter from Wisconsin was serving the enemy. . . . terse—well phrased—and with the political point. . . ." In his What most distressed Bob was the outcry against his father spare time, he wrote a weekly column entitled "The Week in that arose in Wisconsin. Long-standing political enemies Washington," which he sent out to forty-five small-town, labor, viewed the loyalty issue as a godsend that they might exploit and socialist newspapers throughout the country. "In some to finally rid the state of La FoUette's influence. Because Wis­ way," began a typical column, "the most significant news of consin had the largest German population of any state, other the week is being completely ignored by the metropolitan people probably felt that the state had to prove its patriotism press. Or perhaps they don't know it. At any rate I am able to to the nation. In any event, former friends joined old enemies give you a piece of exclusive information. . . . My informant— in denouncing the senator. The University of Wisconsin who is distinctly on the inside—tells me. . . ." After such a big became a hotbed of anti—La FoUette fervor. In December stu­ buildup, the actual news story was usually rather disappoint­ dents and faculty gathered behind the library to burn La Pol­ ing, but at least the column was interesting, well written, and lette in effigy. The president of the university, Charles Van humorous, demonstrating Bob's characteristic blend of under­ Hise, who had gone to school with the senator and Belle and statement and irony. who had become president through La FoUette's influence, Bob's performance, on the job and in the column, so charged him with "aiding and abetting the enemy." Professor

AUTUMN 2002 "g WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OE HISTORY

WHi(X3)24741, Album 26.21a For much of the 1930s the La FoUette brothers—one a prominent U.S. senator, the other an innovative, three-term governor of Wisconsin— looked like the wave of the future. Political setbacks and resentments, especially on the part of Phil (right), gradually took their toll, until in the end the brothers were barely on speaking terms.

of Economics John R. Commons, of whom the senator had perature, and the appearance of painful, inflamed nodules said only a year earlier, "Thank God for such good friend," scattered over his body. . . . On February 7, the day after his joined the chorus of denunciation. In January 1918, all but twenty-third birthday. Bob underwent surgery to drain pus four members of the faculty signed a petition demanding La from the cavity behind his right lung. After the operation, FoUette's expulsion from the Senate. "Damn that faculty to doctors could offer little more in the way of treatment than hell," said Bob angrily. "I hope that I may live to see each one rest and proper diet. . . . get what is coming to him if there is any justice in this Only a few days after Bob came home from the hospital, he damn world." . . . suffered a relapse. ... At times, his condition was so bad that he The stress-filled months after the senator's St. Paul speech feared he might die. Belle dropped her outside activities to care were hard on all the La FoUettes, especially on Bob. During for her son. At night, after coming home from the Capitol, the the days, he struggled to keep up with his office chores. In the senator would relieve her. "Papa," said Belle, "has had almost evenings, after a hurried dinner, he trudged back to the Capi­ as hard a time as Bobbie. He has been so wrought up over him tol to help his father, his mother, and the staff prepare the he will not go to bed nights and hovers about his room." legal defense that the senator planned to present to the com­ By July, although Bob remained bedridden, the worst was mittee investigating the possibility of expulsion. "I am so finally over. His doctors now recommended a full year of rest tired," Bob complained, "that I could sleep" standing "on the and recuperation. ... In September, Bob, his mother, and toes of one foot." Mary rented a cottage on the Pacific Ocean, near Lajolla, Cal­ Then, late in January 1918, he became critically ill with ifornia, where they remained for almost a year. what doctors diagnosed as streptococcal pneumonia. Among Bob's prolonged illness drained him emotionally as well as his symptoms were swelling of his face and limbs, a high tem­ physically by reinforcing his latent sense of failure and inade-

^ AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY quacy. . . . Late in November 1918, to see my old friends and they encouraging news from Europe were all very cordial but the 'patri­ temporarily lifted Bob's spirits. ots' killed the home feeling for me "God what a relief to once more and I do not think I will ever have dwell in a peaceful world," he said it again." His father tried to talk when he heard of the armistice. him out of it: "I would not let a The political situation in Washing­ few cheap skates drive me from ton also improved. In the Novem­ the most beautiful place in the ber elections, the Republicans world—where I had made my gained a majority in both houses of home, reared my family, buried Congress. Their majority in the my dead. . . . Eighty percent are Senate was slim, however, and to our real friends—they have been the dismay of both Democrats and bound hand and foot & gagged Republicans it appeared that Sena­ there as they have everywhere in tor La Follette held the balance of this country & in the world." The power. Not surprisingly, the com­ elder La Follette could forget, but mittee considering his expulsion Bob could not. In the years to rapidly concluded its investigation come, he would spend consider­ without taking action. able time in Wisconsin. One day The diplomatic events follow­ he would represent it in the Unit­ ing the war, however, were not as ed States Senate. Still, he would never be able to shake off the feel­ encouraging. As President Wilson WHS Archives Name File prepared to leave for the Paris After Phil launched the National Progressives of America ing that many people in the state, peace conference. Bob predicted (NPA) party in 1938, Boh reluctantly joined his brother in including some of the family's his national crusade; as shown here, he occasionally that the conference would turn closest friends, had betrayed his posed for publicity shots wearing an NPA button. Before into "tragic fiasco," a scramble for the attack on Pearl Harbor, the NPA and the La Follette father, m the spoils of war. Yet he charac­ brothers warned the nation about the dangers of entering World War II and supported the America First movement. The new edition of Young Bob: A Biography of teristically cautioned his father to Robert M. La Follette, Jr., published by the Wis­ consin Historical Society Press, is available to "lie low" and "let some one else point out the betrayal." After members of the Wisconsin Historical Society at a 10 percent discount. To order call the Chicago distribution center at (800) 621-2736. Hardcover ISBN 0-87020-340-1; softcover hearing of the proposed league of nations, he denounced Wil­ ISBN 0-87020-341-X. son: "I wish the long faced fraud would stay over there for Resources Belle Case La Follette and Fola La Follette, Robert M. La Follette (New York, 1953), two good and all." In May 1919, he wrote that Wilson, "the past volumes master of hypocrisy," had "sold us out so completely that a La Follette Family Papers, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. few rotten trades seem not to matter." By the end of June, Bob had recovered and was ready to The Author leave California. Except for a slight limp—the tendons in the A native of Wisconsin, Patrick J. backs of his legs had contracted during the long period of bed Maney received a bachelor's degree rest and inactivity—he showed no physical signs of the long from the University of Wisconsin at ordeal. Yet, the events of the last two years, especially the war, Stevens Point in 1969 and a doctorate from the University of Maryland in 1976. had profoundly affected him, as he realized, perhaps for the During the late 1970s, he worked in the first time, when he stopped off in Madison on the way back to Wisconsin State Senate. From 1980 to Washington. 1998 he taught American history at It had been over a year since his last visit, and things had Tulane University. Currently the chair of changed. But nothing had changed more than his attitude. "I the history department at the University of South Carolina, he is the author of The Roosevelt was surprised at how little attachment I have left for this Presence: The Life and Legacy of FDR (Berkeley: University town," he wrote his mother. "I have always felt a thrill on of California Press, 1998). coming in on the train but not this time. I am glad of course

AUTUMN 2002 m EDITORS' •> CHOICE Books Even ts Multimedia Exiiibits R esources EG cations

Beginning in this issue, we present Editors' Choice, a selection of reviews and announcements to provide you with timely and compelling information about books, media, and events related to Wisconsin's past. Are there resources we should know about? We'd like to hear from you. Write to Reviews Editor, Wisconsin Magazine of History, Wisconsin Historical Society 816 State Street, Madison, Wl 53706-1482 or e-mail [email protected]

family and her father's fellow workers, who, while paid decent wages by the standards of the time, resented the many ways in Packinghouse which the company maintained its prerogatives and refused to Daughter: A Memoir recognize legitimate grievances about how the plant was run and how supervisors treated workers. Register is too honest and BY CHERI REGISTER too good a scholar, however, to paint a simple black and white Minnesota Historical Society Press, St. Paul, MN, 2000. Pp. 280 picture. In compelling prose, she relates how her research in ISBN 0-87351-391-6, $24.95, newspapers, archives, government records, and personal inter­ hardcover. views revealed a complex, interwoven, and ambiguous story. Although her best friend in high school was the daughter of one of the plant's salesmen, the two managed to maintain their friendship during the strike. Register can look back at the episode now with the cool gaze of the curious historian while heri Register's gripping tale of the 109-day Wilson simultaneously retaining her admiration for her father and his Packinghouse strike in 1959 in Albert Lea, Minneso­ fellow workers and her antagonism for those who benefit from C ta—the longest strike in the meatpacking industry up excessive profits gained from the exploitation of workers. to that time—is more than the coming-of-age tale of a fourteen- No footnotes are provided, but this story rings true, coming year-old girl. Among other things, it is an excavation of family from a teller who acknowledges the importance of one's van­ history (her father toiled for thirty-one years as a millwright in tage point and the perils of relying on one's own memories in the plant), a historical account of the mid-twentieth-century attempting to recreate the past. The narrative works convinc­ meatpacking industry, and a meditation on the vagaries of his­ ingly at four levels: as a story of a Midwestern small town in cri­ torical memory and historical truth. sis, as a case study of a transitional period in the meat-packing Register, a writer and teacher of creative writing, escaped industry, as an investigation of class conflict in a society loath to from the town as soon as she could, going off to the University acknowledge its existence, and as a personal reminiscence of a of Chicago after high school graduation. Now, having lived in bright and observant teenager who still answers, when asked, Minneapolis most of her adult life, she remains unable to shake "Fm from Albert Lea." the influence of her formative years during the 1950s in Albert JOHN E. MILLER Lea, a town that counted 13,545 in the 1950 census. Twenty- South Dakota State University seven hundred hogs, five hundred cattle, and five hundred sheep passed through Wilson's portals on an average day. The strike, whose violence elevated it to national news and brought READERS WRITE out the National Guard, was a reminder for anyone who need­ Send us your choice for the most influential biography of ed it that this seemingly quiet, pleasant, peaceful community a Wisconsin figure. We'll highlight readers' picks in a was rent by class divisions and latent conflict. future issue. Mail or e-mail us at the address above. The author's sympathies lie clearly with her working-class

^ AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

increasingly forced consensus at home and, to Post, question­ able American policy in Europe are richly woven into a Memoirs of a teenager's coming of age story. Through those years, nostalgia Cold War Son for World War II—the good war—and resentment toward bullies provide the dominating themes in his life. BY GAINES POST, JR. Bullies were the more important of the two. In the mind of University of Iowa Press, Iowa City, lA, Post the teenager, Hider had caused his mother's breakdown 2000. Pp. xviii, 226. Rlustrations. ISBN0-87745-701-8, $24.95, hardcover. and Stalin threatened to do so again. At home, bullies in the schoolyard mirrored the bullying of Senator Joseph McGarthy. But bullies were cowards and could be beaten, defeated in a good war or faced down like McGarthy during the army hearings. Either way. Post's fragile mother could be protected. he best memoirs provide through one hfe story a But an increasingly introspective young man came to ques­ ghmpse into the lives of a generation; such is the case tion this stark dichotomy. During his undergraduate years at T in this well-written account of the formative years in Gornell and service in the army in Germany, Post evolved the life of a Gold War agnostic. Post was born in conservative, into a Gold War agnostic who challenged the wisdom of both rural West Texas; raised in the liberal, academic atmosphere the crackdown on dissidents at home and the seemingly short­ of Madison, Wisconsin; and shaped by a crucial year spent in sighted nature of American policy in Europe. Life, he realized, economically depressed but politically dynamic postwar Paris. is more complex than it appears. These doubts presage the On one level it was hardly the typical life of a member of the growing doubts in America that would lead to the turmoil of silent generation of the 1950s, yet the same experiences that the sixties. formed the Gold War consensus and quiet acquiescence of The twentieth volume in the series Singular Lives: The that generation also molded Post's quiet questioning of that Iowa Series in North American Autobiography, Memoirs of a consensus. Cold War Son is representative of the best of that series. It is The account starts in 1951 with a shallow, inexperienced not only a good read for the general public, but also a useful teenager traveling with his family to Paris to join his mother, text for historians delving into the complexities of the early who had suffered a psychological breakdown after World War Gold War. II and gone alone to Europe to recover. It ends with Post as a REYNOLDS S. KIEFER young lieutenant in Germany during the Berlin crisis of 1961. Texas A&fM University The intervening years of Gold War rhetoric, McGarthyism,

WISCONSIN BOOK FESTIVAL October 9-13, 2002

^he Wisconsin Book Festival, Ghildren's events, storytelling, readings, lectures, dis­ T:a new initiative of the Wis­ cussions, exhibits, and book signings will be held in a consin Humanities Gouncil, will variety of venues, including the WHS Museum and be an annual, public festival held headquarters building auditorium, the Orpheum The­ in downtown Madison that cele­ ater, the Madison Public Library, and local bookstores. 300K brates the written word, reading, Speakers include: Howard Zinn, Rabbi Howard FESTIVAL writing, and books. The festival Kushner, Patrick Maney, Gaylord Nelson, Patty Loew, will feature more than fifty John Kaminski, Nancy O. Lurie, Julie Pferdehirt, Jane authors from Wisconsin and across the nation—novelists, Hamilton, and Lorrie Moore. historians, poets, children's writers, and scholars. For information visit www.wisconsinbookfestival.org.

AUTUMN 2002 "g BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS

years and the events that shaped her thought and made her Fireweed: A Political a pioneer in women's history. In this political autobiography, Autobiography she recounts the death of her mother, whom she never saw after leaving Europe; her marriage to film editor Carl Lerner BY GERDA LERNER and their life in blacklist-era Hollywood; her regret at having Temple University Press, supported Stalin and the Soviet Union; and her pride in organ­ Philadelphia, PA, 2002. Pp. xiv, 377. izing for the rights of women, workers, and minorities. A pro­ Illustrations. ISBN 1-56639-889-4, $34.50, fessor emerita of history at the University of hardcover. Wisconsin-Madison, Lerner investigates her own develop­ ment as an eminent scholar and writer against the backdrop of important social and political events, including the Holo­ caust, the Depression, Pearl Harbor, the HUAC hearings, and the Rosenberg trial. Now a post-Marxist, she explains in an ^^ erda Lerner, born in 1920 to a middle-class Jewish fam­ afterword that she used reasoning and experience to "think ily in Vienna, spent her eighteenth birthday in jail, imprisoned by the Nazis after the Anschluss. With her family her way out of Marxism," while remaining committed to racial she was forced into exile; she alone escaped to the United and social equality. Like the fireweed, which blooms only on States. By age forty she was a refugee, mother, Communist, burnt-overground, Lerner did more than survive hardship and writer, college student, and political activist. oppression; she used each loss to summon courage, to find a Now in her eighties, Lerner reflects on those formative new direction, and to shape her destiny.

Kindred and Related Spirits: The Letters of Breaking the Heart of the World: John Muir and Jeanne C. Carr Woodrow Wilson and the Fight for the EDITED BY BONNIE JOHANNA GISEL League of Nations

University of Utah Press, Salt Lake City, UT, 2001. Pp. xviii, 394. Index, notes, BY JOHN MILTON COOPER, JR. bibliography, appendix, illustrations. ISBN 0-87480-682-8, $34.95, hardcover. Cambridge University Press, New York, NY, 2001. Pp. ix, 454. Index, notes, illus­ trations. ISBN0-521-80786-7, $34.95, hardcover. his collection of letters between John Muir and his friend and T supporter Jeanne C. Carr is beautifully illustrated and com­ oodrow Wilson has long been recognized as the central fig­ prehensively annotated. Editor Bon­ W ure in the debate over American involvement with the nie Johanna Gisel, a professor of League of Nations. Indeed, he submitted the original League environmental studies, provides covenant in 1919, secured its conclusion in the Treaty of Versailles, important background and insight and actively campaigned for the treaty's approval by the U.S. Sen­ into the relationship between Muir ate. This book, written by Wilson biographer and University of Wis­ and the wife of University of Wiscon­ consin-Madison Professor John Milton Cooper, Jr., demonstrates sin professor of chemistry and natu­ just how significant Wilson's actions were during the great debate. ral history, Erza S. Carr. While Clearly sympathetic to Wilson's ideals. Cooper presents the presi­ Muir's letters to Carr were published dent's fight as something of a tragedy. Despite being the League's in 1915, Carr's letters have not been architect and greatest supporter, Wilson ultimately contributed to previously published. its defeat in the Senate. His lack of support from Republicans and The correspondence begins in the Senate ensured strong partisan and ideological opposition from 1865 after Muir left Madison for the beginning, and his refusal to compromise on the details of Canada and, eventually, California. It ends a few years before American membership in the League alienated those "mild reser- Carr's death in 1903. Photographs of the Carrs' residences in vationists" who were not adverse to the general idea of the League. Madison and California and Jeanne Carr's botanical sketches Wilson's stroke in October 1919 virtually removed him from the underscore the devotion to nature, wilderness, and faith shared by debate, and his supporters, faced with "sphinxlike silence from the these friends. White House," watched the treaty go down to defeat.

^ AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

Diaries of Girls and Women: Glenway Wescott Personally: A Biography A Midw^estern American Sampler BY GERRY ROSCO

EDITED BY SUZANNE L. BUNKERS University of Wisconsin Press, Madison, Wl, 2002. Pp. xvii, 306. Index, notes, illustrations. ISBN 0-299-17730-0, $29.95, hardcover. University of Wisconsin Press, Madison, Wl, 2001. Pp. xiv, 457. Notes, bibliogra­ phy, illustrations. ISBN 0-299-17224-4, $24.95, paperbound. • erry Rosco chronicles the life and writings of author Glenway *^ Wescott, a Wisconsin native who inhabited the literary world he editor has compiled selections from the diaries of forty- of 1920s Paris and, later. New York's artistic community. The T six girls and women from Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Iowa. author of The Grandmothers, The Pilgrim Hawk, and a book of The oldest entry dates from 1837, while the most recent was short stories titled Good-bye Wisconsin, Wescott is perhaps best penned in 1999. Though conceding the fact that middle- and known for the company he kept; his literary acquaintances includ­ upper-class native-born, urban, white women kept most of these ed Ernest Hemmingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, W. H. Auden, Som­ diaries, the editor has also included diaries from immigrants, the erset Maugham, and E. M. Forster. poor, farm girls, and African Americans. These forty-six excerpts, As the lifelong companion of Muse­ chosen from more than four hundred diaries, are divided into four um of Modern Art curator Monroe sections—"American Girls," "Coming of Age," "Journeys," and Wheeler, Wescott also fraternized "Home, Work, Family"—and are presented chronologically within with such distinguished artists as each section. Each excerpt begins with a brief biographical sketch Jean Cocteau. of the writer. Rosco's biography is a scholarly A lengthy introduction provides context for the selections and examination of Wescott's life and analyzes the various reasons midwestern women have written makes use of ample sources, diaries over the last century and a half. Bunkers suggests sever­ among them interviews, newspa­ al reasons why most female diarists keep journals: to prove their pers, literary journals, and corre­ use of their time and energies worthwhile; to analyze and record spondence. Published in conjunction their relationships with others; to serve as an outlet for emotions with the University of Wisconsin such as grief and anger; to provide a forum for their commentary Press book series Living Out: Gay on religion, politics, and larger events; to record their travels; and and Lesbian Autobiographies, Wescott's biography includes sub­ to leave behind their thoughts for posterity. Believing these stantial excerpts of his own writing, a chapter on his friendship and themes to be universal in midwestern women's diaries. Bunkers work with Alfred Kinsey, and photographs of Wescott in his later seeks to tie these women's experiences together despite differ­ years. Rosco is an appropriate author to pen this biography; he ences in time, class, and race. knew Wescott before his death in 1987 and previously co-edited a collection of his personal journals.

f My First Tears daily journal of the post, where his observances went far beyond those of his contemporaries. He recorded his feelings in the Fur Trade My First Years in the and thoughts about the social and business organizations with­ E JOURNALS OF 1802-1804 Fur Trade: The EGRGE NELSGN in the XY and North West Companies, the hierarchical struc­ Journals of 1802-1804 ture and patronage systems inherent in the companies, and the BY GEORGE NELSON; business culture of the fur trade itself. EDITED BY LAURA L. PEERS Nelson's curiosity about and interest in Ojibwe life offers AND THERESA M. SCHENCK readers detailed descriptions about native culture, as seen Minnesota Historical Society Press, St. from his Yellow River post in the Folle Avoine region of west­ Paul, MN, 2002. Pp. vii, 234. Index, ern Wisconsin during his first season and at the Chippewa notes, bibliography, illustrations, maps. ISBN 0-87351-412-2, $29.95, hardcover. River post during his second season. His commentary on both individual behavior and native customs reveals a tolerant per­ spective not found in other diarists of the time. Editors Peers t the age of fifteen, George Nelson entered into a five- and Schenck provide careful editing and thorough annotation A year contract with Alexander Mackenzie's XY Company, to allow readers to appreciate the depth of Nelson's world in a fur trading company of major significance during British con­ the "wilds" of current-day Minnesota and Wisconsin. trol of the Old Northwest. In his role as clerk. Nelson kept a

AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY Letters from Our Readers

lease express my delight to Gerry Strey on her article P "The Oleo Wars: Wisconsin's Fight Over the Demon Spread" [Autumn 2001]. I was a student at the University of Wisconsin from my freshman year in 1961 through . . . 1966. My family lived in Illinois and we chuckled about Wisconsin's "butter" posture. During this time I became one of the many notorious "oleo smugglers." Nearly every trip from home to the university included a case of oleo in the trunk of the car which I sold at cost to my fraternity, where it was used "only for cooking," of course. . . . The good old days were not always good, but are certainly interesting to remember. —WILLIAM P. STEWART, Wilmette, Illinois WCFTR, Film Title Stills hanks for the wonderful article by John Walsh, "The touch with the state I love. My daughter and her family live T Strange, Sad Death of Sergeant Kenney," in the Winter in Madison, and I am from Milwaukee but I haven't been in issue of the Wisconsin Magazine of History. The American Wisconsin for twenty years. But I will continue to be a mem­ intervention in Russia is little known among Americans, ber of the Society. including historians and military personnel. The late Soviet —THOM PIGNEGUY, Rockford, Illinois Premier Kruschev spoke critically of the intervention in a speech at the United Nations in the '60s, emphasizing that The editors respond: We had several alert readers who Soviet troops had never been on American soil but that the noticed that we had listed one of the actors from the motion opposite was not true. I was fortunate to learn a bit about the picture All About Eve incorrectly in our Winter 2001—2002 American intervention when I came across the Distinctive issue. Thanks to all WMH readers who contacted us, either Unit Insignia (unit crest) of the 339th Infantry Regiment. It on this point alone or as part of a longer communication. consists of a polar bear with an inscription in Russian that translates roughly to "Let the bayonet decide." T A 7e are long-term members of the Historical Society. Wisconsin and Michigan still have connections to the ^ ^ Over the years we have thoroughly enjoyed perusing 339th Regiment, which is now part of the 84th Division (Insti­ the magazine. Recently, however, possibly coincident with tutional Training) of the United States Army Reserve. The 1st the arrival of your new secretary, we have noted a change in Battalion of the 339th is located in Fraser, Michigan; the 2d content and direction. I allude of course to the articles which Battalion in Madison; and the 3d Battalion in Sturtevant. are not related to Wisconsin events. I could abide the Babe Thought your readers might be interested in this addition­ Ruth story [Summer 1994 issue] as I admired him as a man. al information. I do not share the same admiration or interest in the liberal —JOHN E. KOSOBUCKI, COLONEL, UNITED STATES ARMY, screed which you inserted in the Winter 2001-2002 issue, Fort McCoy "Mining Salt of the Earth." Please tell me why residents of Wisconsin would have interest in this tract? Or why it was n the article "Elegance by Design" by Maxine Fleckner included? IDucey in the Winter 2001-2002 issue, on page 20 that is This brings up the matter of your magazine becoming Hugh Marlowe (Lloyd Richards) on the far right. Gregory politicized. If you will offer "balance" in this politicization, Ratoff is not in the listing. then I have no objection. I know, however, that anything with I am quite impressed with your new magazine, it is beau­ a slightly rightward tilt would get short shrift. tifully done. And thank you for the picture of the precious and Note if you will that the same Far Out Ultra Liberals beautiful Audrey as Holly. With fifty-two years in the theatre, (FOUL for short) who decry the fact that Enron officials take as a projectionist, I feel on a first-name basis with them. . . . the "5th" were so, so silent when the Hollywood 10 did like­ I enjoy the magazine and the newsletter, [they] keep me in wise.

^ AUTUMN 2002 WISCONSIN MAGAZINE OF HISTORY

Lastly, I'm not so sure the man to the right of Bette Davis The editors respond: The military post that existed in 1830 was Gregory Ratoff [in the article "Elegance by Design," (the date of Juliette Kinzie's journey, which was illustrated by same issue]. Are you? the map in question) and the community in south-central P.S. Let's see more articles with a Wisconsin, apolitical Wisconsin are not the same. The Fort Atkinson military post theme! was located in what is now Iowa. In 1836 Dwight and Almi- —MARK E. LEISTIGKOW, Green Bay ra Foster first settled the Jefferson County community men­ tioned above, naming it Fort Atkinson in honor of General magine my surprise in learning that Fort Atkinson has Henry Atkinson whose troops had encamped in the area, Ibeen moved to Iowa! Page 52 of the Winter 2001-2002 near Lake Koshkonong, in 1832 during the Black Hawk War. issue in the article "As She Knew Them: Juliette Kinzie and There have been two other posts named Fort Atkinson as the Ho-Ghunk, 1830-1833" by Margaret Beattie Bogue well, one in Kansas and one in Nebraska. showed all the colonial forts located where I always was taught! The Wisconsin Magazine of History invites your letters Being a native of Jefferson County, but moving to Califor­ and comments. Write to Editor, WMH, Wisconsin Historical nia twenty-five years ago, I apparently lost track of this unex­ Society, 816 State Street, Madison, Wl 53706-1482, or pected move—from Jefferson County to Iowa? When/how e-mail [email protected]. did this happen? — E. S. WATERBURY, Glendale, California

William Best Hesseltine Award

The thirty-fifth annual William Best Society Members, Vote for the Hesseltine Award Hesseltine Award, honoring the The Wisconsin Magazine of History has changed dramatically in the best article published in the Wiscon­ past two years, incorporating color and design features to make sin Magazine of History during the reading about Wisconsin history a more lively experience for our 2000-2001 volume, was awarded members. One feature that has not changed is the Society's com­ to William Cronon for his article mitment to providing sound historical information on the pages of "Why the Past Matters" (volume 84, WMH. Whatever changes occur, the William Best Hesseltine Award issue 1). is one way to honor those scholars and writers who provide solid, The award was established in enlightening history that is part of the Wisconsin story. memory of a past president of the Beginning with Volume 85, whose four issue covers appear Wisconsin Historical Society and here, we are asking the membership of the Society, rather than distinguished University of Wiscon­ a small panel of judges, to vote for their choice of best original sin professor. A board of external article. A list of all eligible writers and articles (excerpts and judges read the major articles of the short essays are not in the running) appear on our Web site, volume year (excluding those written by Society staff members) www.wisconsinhistory.org/wmh. Members can vote by emailing and ranked them according to scholarship and readability. [email protected], or by regular mail, addressed to The editors heartily praise this year's recipient. Congratula­ Hesseltine Award, Wisconsin Magazine of History, 816 State Street, tions, Bill! Madison, Wl 53706. Provide the name of the writer and the article title. Voting ends on November 1, 2002. Thank you! Ttie Editors

^ AUTUMN 2002 Back Matters WHS and the Spirit of Frederick Jackson Turner

estled humbly within one of the and the young University of Wisconsin profes­ imposing Hbraiy-bound volumes sor were partners in disseminating the ideas of the Proceedings of the Wiscon­ that would shape the study of American histo­ sin Histoiical Society can be ry for the next century. founNd the veiy first piinfing of what is generally The Society is justifiably proud of its associ­ acknowledged to be the most powerful and con­ ation with Frederick Jackson Turner, and troversial explanation of American development Turner gave the Society a good deal of credit ever written. I'm referring to Frederick Jackson for his success. After he became famous for his Turner's essay "The Significance of the Frontier work in western history. Turner received in American History," first delivered in July numerous offers to chair history departments 1893 at the World's Columbian Exposition in in prestigious universities from Berkeley to Chicago and reprised six months later in Madi­ Cambridge, and he became adept at the game son for the forty-first annual meeting of the Society. Its unas­ of using these offers to improve his position in Wisconsin. In suming appearances in 1894 in both the Proceedings and a an article that appeared in this magazine in 1988, E. David separately pubHshed Society pamphlet constitute the eariiest Cronon described an attempt by Woodrow Wilson and printings of what Turner's biographer Allan G. Bogue has Princeton to recruit Turner in 1896; one of the primary rea­ called "the most celebrated scholarly paper ever presented by sons Turner provided Wilson for not leaving Madison was his an American historian or social scientist." Historian Albert L. attachment to the Society's library. "A century ago," writes Hurtado has written that "no other American historian has Cronon, "he clearly put a higher value on something we all haunted the professional imagination like Frederick Jackson too often take for granted today—the rich research collections Turner." If that is so, the Wisconsin Historical Society's part of the library and archives." in engendering that spirit and keeping it alive cannot be over­ In this issue Allan Bogue continues the story of the ongo­ estimated. ing efforts to lure Turner away from Madison and his beloved The quotation from Bogue about the celebrity of Turner's library, describing Turner's agonizing decision to leave in essay, for example, doesn't come from his biography but 1909 for a position at Harvard. The article revolves around a appears instead in A Wisconsin Fifteen: Fifteen Notable Tides recently discovered letter from Turner, which was acquired from the Library Collections of the State Historical Society of by the Society archives in 1999 and was not available when Wisconsin (1998), the latest of numerous books, articles, and Bogue was researching his biography. According to Bogue, as reviews that have come from the Society and have dealt in pressure mounted from the Board of Regents for Turner to some way with Turner and his work. While Turner's extraor­ give up some of the gains he had made by leveraging his dinary infiuence on the writing of American history would numerous offers from other institutions, he finally realized have been hard to predict at the time the Society published its that the time had come to move on. After justifying this move eariiest versions of what came to be known as his "frontier the­ in this letter, he says: "I am not worrying much about succes­ sis," there is no doubt that these publications did their part to sors. The library, in the long run, will win a strong man who bring the essay to the attention of many. will use the riches to advantage." Another Wisconsin Historical Society Press offering, Frec/- Since Turner's day the Society's collections have, indeed, erick Jackson Turner: Wisconsin's Historian of the Frontier, attracted their share of talented scholars to Wisconsin, and contains Turner's frontier essay as well as writings by histori­ they have also served those of us who might not be quite so ans Martin Ridge and Ray Allen Billington and Society talented as well, when we just want to learn more about our Hbrarian James P. Danky. In his essay for the volume, Danky ancestors or the town in which we live. If, as Cronon said, the explains that the Society's first published versions of Turner's Society and its collections are often taken for granted, now is essay "served not only to document and pubHcize the work of the time, more than ever, for us to be conscious of their value. the Society but were also a medium of exchange with other —]. Kent Calder Hbraries and learned societies around the world." The Society m AUTUMN 2002 Give the Gift of History Books From the Wisconsin Historical Society Make Timeless Holiday Gifts

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Swedes in Wisconsin Publications of the Wisconsin Historical Society Press are Revised and Expanded Edition available to Society members at a 10 percent discount. For BY FREDERICK HALE membership in the Wisconsin Historical Society, call A concise introduction to Wiscon­ the Membership Office at 608-264-6587 (Mon.-Fri., 8-5) sin's Swedish immigrants; updated or visit the Society's Web site, www.wisconsinhistory.org with additional photos and historic (click on "Become a Member"). documents. To order books, call the University of Wisconsin Press Softcover, $9.95, Distribution Center toll-free at 800-621-2736 or fax ISBN 0-87020-337-1 800-621-8476. For a list of books about Wisconsin and the Upper Midwest, check out the UW Press Online Regional Catalog at www.wisc.edu/wisconsinpress/books/regsindex.htmL "' ^^m^^^^Bi^^i i • . » "^

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n 1969 the construction of the World Trade Center attracted observers like these New York businessmen. I While heralded by the business community as the manifestation of international corporate interests, the Twin Towers were not always welcomed by local interests; their creation sacrificed the jobs of lower Manhattan's shop­ keepers as an entire neighborhood vanished. In this issue photographer, sociologist, and Wisconsin native Richard Quinney reflects on past and present constructions of the World Trade Center in his photo essay, 'T 10 Stories: Pho­ tographs of the World Trade Center Construction."

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