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VOL. LXIII— 1975

Cover Design by Arthur Thrall, Lawrence University

rRANSACTIONS OF THE

WISCONSIN ACADEMY

OF SCIENCES, ARTS

AND LETTERS

LiXIII — 1975

Editor

ELIZABETH McCOY

Copyright © 1975

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

Manufactured in the United States of America

By Duarte Company, Lewiston, Maine

All Rights Reserved

Established 1870

TRANSACTIONS OF THE

WISCONSIN ACADEMY Volume LXIII

HISTORICAL ARCHITECTURE: A VANISHING CULTURAL 1

LEGACY

Richard W.E. Perrin: Presidential Address

THE SHERIFF AND THE YELLOW FRINGE 13

John Anthony Turcheneske, Jr.

A SOCIAL AND ENVIRONMENTAL HISTORY OF HUMAN

IMPACT ON PARFREY’S GLEN 26

Sarah Wynn and Orie L. Loucks

ECOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL ASPECTS OF ASPEN

SUCCESSION IN NORTHERN WISCONSIN 54

James S. Fralish

THE LITTORAL MACROPHYTE VEGETATION OF

SOUTHEASTERN DEVIL’S LAKE 66

F. Christopher Baker

HISTORY AND THE HUMANITIES 72

Frank L. Klement

THE AMERICAN CHESTNUT IN WISCONSIN 81

Craig D. Tiedemann and Edward R. Hasselkus

THE STYLISTIC IDENTIFICATION OF FREDERICK

JACKSON TURNER WITH ROBERT M. LA FOLLETTE: A

PSYCHOLOGICALLY ORIENTED ANALYSIS OF

LANGUAGE BEHAVIOR 102

Ronald H. Carpenter

IDENTIFICATION AND MANAGEMENT OF EURASIAN

WATER MILFOIL IN WISCONSIN

Stanley A. Nichols

A CASE STUDY IN THE DECELTICIZATION OF IRELAND:

THE O’CONORS OF CONNACHT

Gareth W. Dunleavy and Janet Egleson Dunleavy

CEMETERIES: A SOURCE OF GEOGRAPHIC

INFORMATION

Maurice E. Perret

PHOSPHORUS SOURCES FOR THE LOWER MADISON

LAKES

William Sonzogni and G. Fred Lee

THE IMPACT OF OVERWINTER DRAWDOWN ON THE

AQUATIC VEGETATION OF THE CHIPPEWA FLOWAGE,

WISCONSIN

Stanley A. Nichols

ENVIRONMENT AND BEHAVIOR IN THE TRANSITION OF

A WISCONSIN COMMUNITY

James W. Kolka and Mary Ellen Kolka

A SURVEY OF THE EDAPHIC ALGAE OF WESTERN

WISCONSIN

Joe M. King

THOREAU IN LOUISA ALCOTTS MOODS

Kathryn Whitford

CLIMATE CHANGE AND ITS HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE

IN THE MIDDLE AGES

Richard R. Ring

THE VASCULAR FLORA OF TRANSECTS ACROSS THE

NAVIGATION POOLS 7 & 8 ON THE UPPER MISSISSIPPI

S.H. Sohmer

WISCONSIN ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, ARTS AND LETTERS

OFFICERS 1974-75

President

Robert P. Hanson

237 Veterinary Science-UW

Madison, Wi 53706

Immediate Past President

Richard W.E. Perrin

9825 Concordia Ave

Milwaukee, Wi 53222

President Elect

Elizabeth McCoy

207 Bacteriology-UW

Madison, Wi 53706

Vice President-Sciences

C.L.R. Holt Jr.

1815 University Ave

Madison, Wi 53706

Vice President-Arts

Willis C. and Lillian S. Leenhouts

3332 Dousman

Milwaukee, Wi 53212

Vice President-Letters

Edna Meudt

RR 3

Dodgeville, Wi 53533

Secretary

H. Clifton Hutchins-until July 1

128 Teacher Education-UW

Madison, Wi 53706

Mrs. Jean Cronon-after July 1

5601 Varsity Drive

Madison, Wi 53705

Treasurer

Henry C. Arnsbrak

425 Berwyn Drive

Madison, Wi 53711

Richard W.E. Perrin

Louis W. Busse

F. Chandler Young

Norman C. Olson

William B. Sarles

Adolph A. Suppan

PAST PRESIDENTS

John W. Thomson

Walter E. Scott

Aaron J. Ihde

J. Martin Klotsche

Carl Welty

Henry A. Meyer

Robert J. Dicke

Stephen F. Darling

Joseph G. Baier

Ralph N. Buckstaff

Katherine G. Nelson

Otto Kowalke

Henry A. Scheutte

The ACADEMY COUNCIL includes the above officers and past presidents

APPOINTED OFFICIALS

Executive Director and

Editor: Wisconsin Academy Review

James R. Batt

W.A.S.A.L. Office

1922 University Ave

Madison, Wi 53705

Associate Director for Programs

H. Clifton Hutchins

W.A.S.A.L. Office

Associate Director for

Junior Academy

LeRoy Lee

W.A.S.A.L. Office

Editor : Transactions

Elizabeth McCoy

W.A.S.A.L. Office

Librarian

Jack A. Clarke

4232 White Hall-UW

Madison, Wi 53706

EDITORIAL POLICY

The TRANSACTIONS of the Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and

Letters is an annual publication devoted to original scholarly papers, some

preference being given to the works of Academy members. Sound

manuscripts dealing with features of the State of Wisconsin and its people

are especially welcome, although papers on more general topics are

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Contributors are asked to submit two copies of their manuscripts to the

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Papers received on or before November 15 will be considered for

publication in the current volume. Manuscript should be sent to:

Elizabeth McCoy W.A.S.A.L. Office

Editor: TRANSACTIONS 1922 University Ave.

Madison, WI 53705

RICHARD W. E. PERRIN

52nd President

WISCONSIN ACADEMY OF SCIENCES,

ARTS AND LETTERS

HISTORIC ARCHITECTURE:

A VANISHING CULTURAL LEGACY

Presidential Address

Richard W. E. Perrin

President , 1973-1974

Green Bay, Wisconsin

April 27, 1974

Several years ago Constance Greiff, architectural historian and former

instructor in the Department of Art at Vassar College, edited a

compendium entitled Lost America, from the Atlantic to the Mississippi. A

second volume, Lost America, from the Mississippi to the Pacific, appeared

just last year. The earlier work included a few of the more prominent

Wisconsin buildings which had been wantonly destroyed in the recent past.

Among them were the Chicago and Northwestern Railway passenger

station, the Alfred Uihlein house and the Layton Art Gallery — all in

Milwaukee — as well as the old town hall in Waukesha and Frank Lloyd

Wright’s Lake Geneva Inn. Of course, scores of additional historically

valuable structures could have been listed as having been destroyed.

Actually, an entire volume might have been devoted to “Lost Wisconsin”,

since the story of our State’s disdain for its architectural legacy runs fairly

parallel to the national experience, particularly in urban centers but, more

recently, in rural areas as well.

In 1934 the Historic American Buildings Survey was established as an

emergency program within the National Park Service of the Department of

the Interior. Its purpose was, and still remains, the recording of the nation’s

architectural patrimony. I have been active in this program since its

inception. In 1960, the first year in which I personally sponsored a local

Historic American Buildings Survey summer student program in

Wisconsin, a quick tally disclosed that nearly 25% of the buildings

measured and recorded since 1934 had been demolished or seriously altered.

Not an enviable record, to be sure, but just about the national average.

Concern for the preservation of historic buildings — with successful

conclusions fewer than failures— has been in evidence for quite a few years.

One need only recall that Mount Vernon, Monticello and Independence

Hall came very close to falling under the wrecker’s ax, despite their

completely obvious national importance as historic landmarks. Still,

because of the last owners’ cupidity, governmental parsimony and public

apathy in general, really heroic action had to be taken by dedicated

individuals to rescue and restore these buildings. Today, we take them for

granted and most certainly would not now tolerate their being desecrated,

to say nothing of being destroyed. But, it was not always thus. Mount

1

2 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

Vernon, following George Washington’s death, fell into a state of serious

disrepair primarily because of the impecunious condition of his estate. As

the years passed it became clear to most people that the place was indeed a

national shrine because of the first president’s enormous popularity, even in

death, and that it must be saved. But how? Numerous petitions were sent to

the Congress for action but to no avail. Time wore on. Then, in 1853,

rumors began to fly that a group of entrepreneurs was trying to negotiate

acquisition of the whole plantation for a resort hotel facility. The idea had

appeal to the Washington heirs then in possession and even more so to the

law-makers in nearby Washington, D.C. who for years had been grappling

with petitions and resolutions, all of which would have required the

expenditure of federal funds. With the prospect of private sale Mount

Vernon’s doom appeared certain, but this is what it took to galvanize

Virginians into action. Without more procrastination from the national

capitol Governor Johnson sent an impassioned message to the Virginia

legislature and Miss Ann Pamela Cunningham, who already had made

many private attempts to save Mount Vernon, broadcast an appeal to the

women of the South to the effect that if the men couldn’t find a way to

preserve the nation’s premier landmark, the women of the South most

certainly could and would. And, they did! Without here delineating the

additional frustrations which were complicated by four years of bitter civil

strife and subsequent impoverishment of the South, Ann Cunningham and

her supporters (notable among whom was Edward Everett, the prominent

lecturer and orator who aside of not being a woman was a Massachusetts

Yankee to boot) completed their task in 1869. Miss Cunningham, never a

physically well woman, withdrew in 1874, having spent over twenty years of

her life in this most selfless effort.

Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s mansion built according to his own

design, has been called the Second Mount Vernon because of its importance

to the nation and the highly similar pattern of decline after his death

coupled with equally herculean efforts on the part of a few dedicated

persons— again, mostly women— to save for posterity this beautiful historic

structure and its magnificent site. While there was no longer an Ann Pamela

Cunningham, the name of Mrs. Martin W. Littleton was not to be taken

lightly, when it came to taking up the cudgels for Monticello. Her

frustrations as well as those of her predecessors must have been simply

incredible. It was not until 1924 that Monticello was conveyed to the

Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation and then, to undertake its

restoration, it became necessary to raise money by every conceivable

method, including solicitation from the nation’s schoolchildren, a

technique which would have been inconceivable in the days of Miss

Cunningham.

Independence Hall! With the bicentennial observance of American

independence only a few months away we are inclined to conjure up visions

of the historic events of two-hundred years ago without realizing that in

1975]

Perrin — Historic A rchitecture

3

1813 the State of Pennsylvania proposed to get rid of the Old State House

(now known as Independence Hall), have the structure razed and sub¬

divide the land for building plots. Why? Very simple! The building was

functionally obsolete; it occupied very valuable ground; and the state

needed the money for a new capitol. Fortunately, at the behest of a few

influential citizens, the City of Philadelphia intervened and bought the

whole square of land including buildings for $70,000. Unfortunately, some

ill-considered alterations were made shortly thereafter, some of which,

however, have since been rectified. At any rate, and most importantly, one

of our most significant national landmarks was saved, but by a hair’s

breadth— barely!

The Mount Vernon, Monticello and Independence Hall experiences have

been deliberately cited in some detail, simply to indicate the enormous

difficulties involved in the preservation and restoration of even

exceptionally important structures. How much greater, then, the problems

attending the survival of lesser landmarks? Certainly, many other buildings

possessing great architectural and historic value have been saved, but at

least two sobering facts stand out. First, it has rarely been government that

did the saving. More often it has been the destroyer or cooperator in the

destruction, if only by simply refusing to act. Secondly, for every building

saved dozens have been demolished, and where preservation efforts did

succeed the credit must almost always go to dedicated individuals and small,

energetic voluntary groups— tenacious and never giving up. The

preservation of New England’s heritage (as much of it as has been

achieved) is a classic example, again, of the unremitting efforts of one man,

William Sumner Appleton, working with an equally committed group, the

Society for the Preservation of New England Antiquities.

For many years after Mount Vernon was saved, other groups tried to

emulate the national approach of Ann Pamela Cunningham. The efforts of

the women who managed to save Washington’s headquarters at Valley

Forge and those who restored the Hermitage, President Andrew Jackson’s

estate at Nashville, did not succeed in stimulating national interest in their

endeavors. In part, the degree of interest depended upon the criteria used to

determine the historic value of the project. Since the original impetus for

historic buildings preservation was patriotism and the associative value of

our national heroes with particular buildings, intrinsic architectural value

was a secondary consideration at the time. Both the Daughters of the

American Revolution and the National Society of Colonial Dames of

America, who trace their origins to the early 1890ies and share a few specific

genealogical requirements for membership, felt themselves sufficiently

strong, organizationally, numerically and financially, to function most

effectively at the national level. Understandably, the primary approach of

both groups to historic preservation was patriotic motivation and each

4

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

organization, in its own way, made some notable contributions. However,

as time went on and the horizon for preservation was broadened, it was

found that local chapter initiation and execution were the preferable

technique, although certainly with national support and cooperation.

Today’s preservation situation seems to strengthen this point of view even

though, as in all things, there is some federal aid to be had and the strongest

private group, The National Trust for Historic Preservation, receives

federal subsidies for its operation.

At this point in time, we seem to be involved in what might be called a

nostalgic “kick”, an emotional and sentimental phenomenon which, to a

degree, may be understandable as an extreme reaction to indiscriminate and

large scale destruction of older buildings, but which makes few value

judgments and simply embraces everything over fifty years old as being

“historic” or even “antique”. Of course, everything is “historic” in the

sense that what happened today will be history tomorrow, but it is not in

this sense that Victorian work, good, bad and indifferent, has become the

object of unreasoning affection on the part of many obviously sincere but

uninformed individuals and groups. Specimens of perfectly preposterous

Victorian design in danger of demolition frequently become causes celebres ,

much to public consternation and the dismay of knowledgeable architects,

art historians and antiquarians, by whom such misdirected efforts can only

be regarded as harmful to the cause of discerning, intelligent historic

buildings preservation and restoration. Certainly, not all Victorian art and

architecture is condemnable. Far from it! However, if there is any reason at

all to preserve the worst of Victorian architecture, it would be to

demonstrate to posterity the design absurdities of the latter nineteenth

century which have been equalled, if not exceeded, by some of the work of

the current century, particularly of the present time. Except for that reason,

much of the now dilapidated Victorian work could be disposed of, since, to

a substantial degree, it reflected little more than the abysmal taste of the

noveaux riches (and their accommodating architects) who got hold of too

much money too fast, and were determined to display their wealth — a

vulgar impulse in itself. Evidently, some Victorian architects (the ones of

genuine stature) were aware of this at the time and viewed with great

misgivings the direction architecture appeared to be taking. For example, at

the 1869 convention of the American Institute of Architects, Richard

Upjohn, who twelve years earlier had founded and become the first

president of the organization, sounded a clear note of warning regarding the

current trend and proposed a study of early American buildings in order to

make his colleagues think deeply about their own work. Had they really

improved upon the work of their predecessors? Some architects began to

heed Upjohn’s advice and found that Colonial architecture was indeed

worthy of study. A few years later a group of younger architects began to

examine and make measured drawings of the best examples of Colonial

work in New England. Their sketches and descriptions elicited only a bland

1975]

Perrin-Historic A rchitecture

5

reaction from the profession and comments to the effect that Early

American work was honest and served very well as a harmonious

background for furniture of the same era. Then, at the 1879 convention a

committee was appointed to delve a bit more deeply into the practices of

architects and builders during the Colonial period. In due course a

committee report was issued, the burden of which was that while Colonial

work was valid in its own time, it should only influence, but not govern,

contemporary architects. While theoretically sound and unassailable

reasoning, it was an incredible assessment, particularly in a period of

undisciplined eclecticism, when virtually every historic form and style of

architecture ever devised by the mind of man was adapted indiscriminately

(and generally debased) to satisfy the gluttonous taste of the time.

The current obsession with Victoriana is not limited to art and

architecture, but is reflected in peripheral, yet significant, expressions such

as wire-frame “granny” eye-glasses worn by young women, late Victorian

style influences in men’s attire and hirsute adornments in the form of

shoulder-length hair, walrus mustaches or, alternately, mutton chop

side-burns, even full-beards which are becoming to some men but make

Victorian caricatures of others. Coincidence? Perhaps, but also a sign that

the entire movement is a passing fad which will eventually self-terminate,

since it has nowhere else to go. On the other hand, considering the state of

the arts in general, and architecture in particular, there may be less reason

for optimism. Architecture, sometimes called the mother of the arts, is

rather more than art alone. In common with sculpture, painting and the rest

of the visual arts, architecture must appeal to the eye and the emotions,

expressing something of the designer himself and, presumably, communica¬

ting a message of some sort. But, architecture must be more than that. In

order to earn its keep it must also be functional and durable. Despite a great

deal of current sophistry concerning what architecture is or should be, I find

it difficult to improve upon the Vitruvian criteria: firmitas, utilitas et

venustas , paraphrased by the seventeenth century English architect, Sir

Henry Wotton, as “firmness, commodity and delight”. Today, it could

well be said that these three imperatives require a building to serve the social

needs for which it is built, the materials and structure must be sound and

suitably durable, and the building must be esthetically satisfying. No

society, past or present, has valued all three equally and rarely have the

demands of utility, structure and art been fully met in a single building,

simply because society determines the purpose of its buildings and which of

those purposes it values most highly. For this reason architecture

inexorably, although often unwittingly, is the physical reflection of the

society which gave rise to it. Buildings are also documents divulging what

the men in power were like who built them, when they were built, and why.

Great architecture has invariably resulted from the joint endeavors of the

owner (client, patron, sponsor) and a highly talented architect.

6

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

In today’s commercially oriented society and its demands for innovation,

generally disdaining anything that can be recognized as having been done

before, it is often forgotten that the world’s greatest architecture was

produced by men who valued competence far more highly than originality.

To perfect what had been done before was the standard of performance.

Modern society, in turn, rewards novelty far more readily than it does

perfection and wherever financial return is the primary objective, society

has learned to exploit architecture as the ultimate advertisement.

For better or worse, this is the kind of society which we have developed

and which we seem to find very difficult to modify. History and the lessons

it has to offer are rarely, if ever, involved in the disciplines related to

planning, architecture and building in general. As a matter of fact,

architectural history was for some time played down, if not altogether

ignored, in the curricula of schools of architecture on the premise that it was

no longer relevant. Innovation and problem solving via technological

advances — these were the important things! Not that the architectural

profession, as a whole, distinguished itself at any time in the cause of

historic preservation but, at least, architects of several generations ago were

knowledgeable in the history of their craft. At the present time, there is

perceptibly renewed interest but there was a hiatus of at least twenty years in

which the schools were turning out historical illiterates. Now that architects

are again becoming interested they are finding the field of history and

historic preservation preempted by trained historians as well as

archaeologists, antiquarians, social anthropologists, geographers and

outright amateurs who have made an avocation of such studies.

As to the historians, however, a rather disturbing attitude has been

developing in some sectors which, by stretching the rules of scholarship and

academic rectitude, has made fact-finding an end in itself, overlooking

completely that the historian, inevitably, is the interpreter of evidence and is

an honest judge rather than simply a purveyor of chronological data. Thus,

we encounter a currently popular form of iconoclasticism, the

demythologization of history and denegration of venerable national

personages — first, via “historical” novels such as Burr which suggests a

caveat regarding authors who write biographies as novels, and, secondly,

obviously serious studies on which countless hours of research are yielding

little more than minutiae with no real bearing on broader and more

important issues to which historical inquiry might more properly address

itself. For example, a few years ago, a very erudite bit of writing, a sort of

expose/ about Frank Lloyd Wright’s early years appeared in print. It seems

that Wright always claimed that he was born in 1869, but that a diligent and

thorough examination of public school records, city directories and the like

disclosed that— horror of horrors — he was very probably born in 1867.

Other inconsistencies about his early family life and educational

background were also exhumed to show that, at best, he was a prevaricator

1975]

Perrin — Historic A rchitecture

1

and, at worst, a downright fraud. I do not happen to be blindly devoted to

any mortal man and, least of all, do I worship at the shrine of Frank Lloyd

Wright. But, for the life of me, I cannot see what great difference it makes

whether the man was born in 1867 or 1869. Collectively, we ought to be

eternally grateful that this one great American giant of architecture was

born at all! His personal life was his affair, but his professional

achievements, his work, his writings and his influence not only on American

thinking but on that of the entire world, these are his legacy to civilization

and most certainly these will never perish as long as mankind remains

concerned with its environment and the improvement of the quality of life

on this planet.

Now, whither and wherefore historic buildings preservation? As to the

why of it, I doubt that I could say it any better than the statement that

appeared in the July, 1972 issue of Preservation News , one of the several

publications of the National Trust for Historic Preservation in the United

States. Paraphrased, and very considerably telescoped, the reasons are:

First, we seek to preserve because our historic resources are all that link us physically

to our past. Some portion of that patrimony must be preserved if we are to recognize

who we are, how we became so and, most important, how we differ from others of our

species. Archives, photographs and books are not sufficient to impart the warmth and

life of physical heritage. The shadow simply does not capture the essence of the object.

Second, we strive to save our historical heritage simply because we have lived with it

and it has become part of us. We should replace our older buildings only when they no

longer have meaning, or when other needs are more pressing; and we should do so only

with caution, understanding how our environment creates us as well as how we create

our environment.

Third, we save our physical heritage partly because we live in an age of frightful

communication and technological capabilities, as well as of increasing cultural

homogeneity. We subconsciously reach out for opportunities to maintain difference,

uniqueness and individuality.

Fourth, we preserve historic sites and structures because of their relation to past

events, eras, movements and persons that we feel are important to honor. They are

potential sources of imagination and creativity in our attempts to understand and

appreciate the past, a past distant from us but still offering much to guide us.

Fifth, we seek to preserve the architecture and landscape of the past because of their

intrinsic value as art. Architecture is a synthesis and culmination of artistic endeavor

and the supreme medium of human expression. If we were to value historic structures as

we honor other works of art, much wanton destruction might be prevented.

Sixth, we seek to preserve our past because we believe in the right of our cities and

countryside to be beautiful. Here, with much regret, we must recognize the essential

tawdriness of contemporary design and construction. Much of it is junk; it assaults our

senses. We seek to preserve the past, not only because it is unique, exceptional,

architecturally significant or historically important, but also because in most cases what

replaces it will be inhuman and grotesque. Of course, many old buildings could be

demolished and replaced with contemporary structures of equal functional and

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

i

[Vol. 63

aesthetic value. Yet, experience has shown that this is not likely, and until it is we should

preserve our past in order to keep what is left of our pleasing and humane urban and

rural landscape.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, we seek to preserve because we have

discovered, though belatedly, that preservation can serve an important human and

social purpose in our society. Our traditional concerns with great events, great people

and great architects are only the foundation stones upon which broader and more

constructive social purposes can be based. If preservation is not to fall into the trap of i

irrelevance, we must learn to look beyond our abstract preoccupation with architecture ,

and history, and break out of our conventionally elitist, intellectual and aesthetic mold,

recognizing that it is the saving of people and lives and cities and land, that is

important to all of us. We have before us and unparalleled opportunity, if we are

sufficiently determined, to contribute significantly to the upgrading of human

existence. If we can achieve this, to some extent at least, the architecture and the history

will fall into place.

9

Having thus clearly delineated the objectives to which, incidentally,

nearly all preservationists subscribe, there come the really refractory hard

nuts which are not cracked with ease. There are usually three fundamental

problems involved, any one or all of which can become a genuine dilemma.

First, is the building or a district sufficiently distinguished to be worth

saving? Second, is the undertaking feasible from the standpoint of utility,

which is to say, can the building be continued in its present use or must an

adaptive use be found? Third, is the proposal economically feasible, which

means who is going to pay the acquisition and restoration costs and who

will assume responsibility for the continuing expense of operation,

management and maintenance?

On the first question, despite the tendency of impulsive groups to save

anything and everything (unfortunately being unable to distinguish “the

junk from the jewelry”) a substantial number of buildings are at least being

ear-marked for preservation by a process of narrowing the choices if the

buildings possess genuine architectural, historic or associative value. Part of

this stems, residually, from having been included in the Historic American

Buildings Survey and, more recently, from federal requirements for

financial assistance which make it almost mandatory for buildings and sites

to pass muster for the National Register of Historic Places, in order to gain

any kind of priority at all. Here in Wisconsin the State Historical Society

with some input from county and local historical groups has been slowly but

methodically combing the state for eligible prospects. Privately prepared

information, photographs and measured drawings such as I have been

putting together for years are also used as a resource. Upon completion of

staff analysis, findings are submitted to the Historic Preservation Review

Board for deliberation, discussion and hearings if indicated, and finally a

decision to accept or reject. The members of this board are appointed by the

governor. I have been a member since its inception and while I have not

always agreed with board action, occasionally being the lone dissenter,

there is no doubt in my mind that the process is sound and the direction is

1975]

Perrin — Historic A rchitecture

9

correct. Actually, of course, the whole procedure is redundant if historic

preservation projects are completely private, as is a highly desirable

situation. Such undertakings, however, are quite rare.

The question of continuing use or adaptive use often raises formidable

barriers. Dwellings and sometimes churches, if the congregations are still

active, are generally the easiest to handle. This is particularly true in the

historic districts approach, in which entire building enclaves are viewed as

suitable for rehabilitative and restorative treatment, and whereby

preservation of an entire neighborhood can ultimately be achieved. In

Milwaukee, two such projects are in the making: Walker's Point on the

south side of the city consisting of a mixture of buildings and populace,

with the focal point being the restoration of Holy Trinity-Our Lady of

Guadalupe Church, built in 1850 and one of Milwaukee’s three oldest

churches. The other area is the Water Tower Historic Preservation District

on the east side of the city along the bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. This

area consists of late nineteenth and earlier twentieth century “period”

houses of great distinction. The objective here is to retain the beautiful and

prestigious character of the area for continued gracious living and, not

altogether incidentally, to maintain a solid and valuable tax base. Madison,

as I understand, has been giving consideration and study to its “Big Bug

Hill” for purposes of establishing a historic preservation district which, in

conjunction with the restored historic Gates of Heaven Temple in nearby

James Madison Park, would appear to offer a very promising potential.

Unfortunately, Wisconsin lacks enabling statutes relating to historic

preservation. Legislation in this area is a definite requirement, since the

controls that must govern historic districts are not achievable with local

ordinances and private covenants alone. Commercial, industrial, public and

institutional premises usually pose the gravest problems with respect to

continued or adaptive use, but even here some headway is being made by

organizations such as the Educational Facilities Laboratories, a New York

City-based, non-profit corporation whose most recent contribution has

been the underwriting of a study entitled Reusing Railroad Stations. It

begins with the basic premise that most of America’s old railroad stations

were well designed and soundly built, usually strategically located, and have

substantial life-expectancy remaining. It is estimated that there are 40,000

stations still standing around the country. Of course, buildings cannot

justifiably be preserved simply as shells, and there is a limit as to how many

can be converted into museums. Most larger buildings must remain where

they stand but smaller ones can often be moved to other sites, if an

appropriate alternate use has been found.

Where no possibility of reuse exists, the outdoor museum concept offers

splendid opportunities for the preservation of rare and irreplaceable

architectural types, both of urban and rural origin. Every European country

has developed such facilities, and they are still hard at it. The United States

is slowly following suit, and here in our state Ozaukee County has

10

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

developed a small but effective Pioneer Park and right here in Green Bay

there are plans in view for a Heritage Park on and adjoining the site of Fort

Howard. The chef d’oeuvre , however, is to be Old World Wisconsin , an

outdoor historical and ethnographic museum, located in the Southern

Kettle Moraine State Forest, just a short distance to the southwest of Eagle

in Waukesha County. Covering about 600 acres, it is being developed

jointly by the State Historical Society of Wisconsin and the Department of

Natural Resources. While drawing on the patterns and experience of the

best European and American outdoor museums, Old World Wisconsin will

differ in one major respect in that the buildings will be grouped in clusters,

each to represent the work of a particular ethnic or national-origin group.

The anticipated minimum is fourteen, with a possible eventual total of more

than twenty distinct and separate settlements. All buildings are expected to

be originals, old buildings as erected by pioneer settlers in various parts of

Wisconsin. Reproductions or facsimiles will be included only for key

structures, if no originals can be found and then only if complete

documentation regarding them can be collated. The museum will exhibit the

architecture, artifacts and life-style of each ethnic group, and will carry on

activities characteristic of each. While essentially rural with substantial

nature conservancy areas separating the clusters, there will also be a village

center to portray the early life-styles and cultures of immigrants who were

not engaged in agriculture but provided essential services.

I proposed this museum to the State Historical Society on June 20, 1964

and after many frustrating disappointments, ground was formally broken

and dedication ceremonies held on June 8, 1974. It took ten years of

unremitting effort on the part of many people to bring the project from the

adoption of an idea to a physical beginning. Except for services and certain

site improvements provided by the two state agencies, financial capability

has come essentially from private sources, and it is hoped that this will be

the pattern of continuing material support, although governmental aids,

wherever and whenever available, will most certainly be sought. Exclusive

of the land, site improvements and furnishings for the buildings, the total

estimated development cost, at this time, is 3.2 million dollars. Since the

museum, by its very nature, is a long-range undertaking, and inflation is a

fact of life, it is literally impossible to project the eventual cost. Whatever it

is, the museum will pay for itself many times over as a cultural and recrea¬

tional facility which will rank among the finest in the world. Since Old

World Wisconsin is to be Wisconsin’s Bicentennial Park, every effort will

be made to have enough work completed to permit the “grand opening” to

take place on or shortly before July 4, 1976 — the two-hundredth

anniversary of American Independence!

The subject of preservation and restoration of historic resources is vast.

Even though you have been patient enough to hear me out (and I have

spoken much longer than I intended), I have only scratched the surface.

While there is much to be optimistic about, the time to relax is not here as

1975] Perrin — Historic A rch itecture 1 1

yet. Despite all the efforts expended, it is clear to me that there must be

continuing vigilance in order to be certain that all preservation and

conservation endeavors are undergirded by sound and systematic

scholarship, even though the impetus for the programs must generally come

from the people, as must the financing, some of which may come through

governmental channels but that, in the last analysis, is quite certainly a

contribution from the people also.

As these programs moved forward and as the Wisconsin Academy of

Sciences, Arts and Letters moves forward, it would be wonderful if the

Academy could become at least catalytically involved, particuarly in the

several areas of learning and in their meaningful application. This is my

hope and anticipation!

I’ENVOI

Perhaps it would have been more appropriate for me, as outgoing

president of the Academy, to have devoted my valedictory to a sort of

“state of the Academy” message, but knowing that through the now

effectively operating media of communication the membership is being kept

currently well informed of council, individual member and staff activities, I

chose to share some of my thoughts with you on a subject to which I have

devoted much time and energy for over 40 years.

However, I would not want to step down as president without expressing

my thanks to all of you for having permitted me to serve you in this

capacity. I enjoyed every minute of my tenure, as I did being

president-elect, vice-president for the Arts, a member of various

committees, and just simply having been a regular member of the Academy

for quite a number of years.

Being historically minded I made it a point, at the time of the Academy’s

centennial in 1970, to examine its origins a bit more closely. Not only was I

impressed with the founders’ philosophy that “the prosperity and power of

a State depend not more upon its material resources than upon the culture

of its people and their knowledge of nature and man”, but that the “Call

for a Meeting to Organize” was signed by 105 men who literally constituted

the State of Wisconsin’s “Who’s Who” at the time. Scholars, practicing

professionals, business and industrial leaders, all were represented. It was

with a feeling of both humility and pride that I scanned the list of names

and particularly when my eye fell on: Solon Marks, M.D. I knew of Dr.

Marks:— that he had served with distinction as a surgeon in the Civil War,

that he was a prominent, public-spirited Milwaukee citizen and that he had

enjoyed a long and successful medical practice. I knew this because my

father was his coachman. Fresh from three years of service in the German

cavalry, my father was a devoted horseman and, somewhat incongruously,

also an accomplished water-colorist and graphic artist. Coming to the

United States in 1892, he was determined not to pursue a career in business

administration for which he had been educated because of his family’s

ownership of a textile mill, an occupation he thoroughly disliked. So, after

1 2 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

travelling all over the United States to see what the country looked like, he

finally landed in Milwaukee, wiser but poorer. Dr. Marks was already an

old man when he hired my father, but even on many a stormy, cold winter

night he made emergency house calls and it was up to my father to hitch-up

horse and buggy and not only drive the old doctor to his destination but

often to help him, physically, to handle an incapacitated patient. There was

also a brougham, but that was reserved for family use and formal, social

calls. In 1899, when my parents were married, my father decided that he

wanted to go into the livery business for himself. While Dr. Marks greatly

regretted the loss of his strong right arm, he not only encouraged the move

but assisted my father in a number of material ways. He died only a few

years later.

While probably altogether irrelevant to this evening’s proceedins, I could

not resist this anecdote, since I have often wondered what Dr. Marks, a

founder of the Academy, and my father would have said to each other had

they known what I would be up to, three-quarters of a century later.

So, I take my leave knowing that no great deeds can be attributed to my

incumbency, but again I want to say to you that I appreciate and value,

more deeply than you know, the confidence you have given me. Thus, I

hope that history’s judgment of my efforts will be at least as benign as that

accorded President Chester A. Arthur by Funk and Wagnalls Standard

Encyclopedia of the World’s Knowledge : “He was neither a great nor a

brilliant president, but he was practical, business-like and honorable in the

fulfillment of his duties”.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

John Burchard and Albert Bush-Brown, The Architecture of America: A Social and Cultural

History , (Little, Brown and Company, 1961).

Charles B. Hosmer, Jr., Presence of the Past: A History of the Preservation Movement in the

United States before Williamsburg, (G.P. Putnam’s Sons, New York, 1965).

Bruce Allsopp, The Study of Architectural History, (Praeger, Inc. 1970).

The National Trust for Historic Preservation in the United States, Miscellaneous membership

publications.

THE SHERIFF AND THE YELLOW FRINGE

John Anthony Turcheneske, Jr.

University New Mexico—

Albuquerque

There appeared on the American scene during the decade of the twenties

a new phenomenon bent on making the United States safe for Americans.

Not confining its activities to the South, the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan

spread its influence throughout the Northern and Western sections of the

nation. Wisconsin was not alone in being touched by the Klan’s peculiar

brand of nationalistic, racial and religious biases. One of the areas in

Wisconsin to be particularly affected was Pierce County— located in the

northwestern section of this state.

Although the Klan entered Wisconsin in the early 1920ies, the hooded

order did not commence operations in Pierce County until the Fall of 1925.

At this time there were membership campaigns conducted in such

communities as Ellsworth, Elmwood and River Falls — with Ellsworth (the

county seat) being the focal point for later Klan activities. After a winter

hiatus, the Klan’s organizational activities were in full swing by the summer

of 1926. Throughout the summer, the citizens of Ellsworth were treated to

literary and oral exhortations of an anti-Catholic and “one hundred per

cent American” nature. Among the more important of the Ellsworth

Klanners was an elected official of Pierce County. What follows is the story

of this official’s involvement in an incident arising from the Klan’s bigoted

preachments.

Held annually at Ellsworth, the 1926 Pierce County Fair opened to the

public on Thursday, September 16. One of the prominent Ellsworth

organizations, the Eldon C. Kinne Post of the American Legion, had a

booth located on the second floor of the stock pavilion. As its principal

project, the Legion was offering for sale World War One histories depicting

Pierce County men in action. Unwittingly, the Legion placed in its booth an

attraction which drew the attention of a most controversial element within

the Ellsworth community — the Ku Klux Klan. There stood at the front of

the Legion booth an American Flag decorated with yellow fringe, a gift of

the Women’s Relief Corps. By mid-afternoon a hostile crowd gathered

demanding that the flag be taken down because, among other things, the

yellow fringe was un-American. Not the least involved in this affair was

Frank L. Baker, Sheriff of Pierce County. His participation in this episode

not only gained the Wisconsin Governor’s attention and more than county¬

wide notoriety, but also precipitated proceedings which nearly led to the

Sheriff’s removal.

13

1 4 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

Although there was discussion of the flag affair from the moment of its

occurrence, the episode did not come to light in print until a week later. The

Ellsworth Record noted that the late flag fracas at the fairgrounds . .was

not one of the advertised attractions”1. During the Ku Klux Klan-American

Legion clash over the gold fringe on the American Flag, it was alleged that

Klan members demanded the removal of the flag in their belief that the

fringe was out of place. Refusing to comply with their demand, the

Legionnaires continued to display the flag until the closing of the fair. On

the evening of the flag incident, the Legion Post contacted the Wisconsin

Adjutant General and was informed “. . .that the flag was the authorized

regimental flag used in every Army post in the country and that the Legion

had been given permission to use it by an Act of Congress passed in

September of 1920”2.

The Pierce County Herald commenced its commentary on the flag

incident to the effect that “. . .considerable excitement prevailed at the

booth of the Eldon C. Kinne Post of the American Legion. . .when a

delegation of men and women, said to be members of the Ku Klux Klan,

threatened to take down the Legion colors.” Klan members were said to

have taken exception to the gold or yellow border on the Legion’s flag. In

standing their ground, Legionnaires were congratulated for their cool

headedness. The colors, it was noted, had been vouched for by the

appropriate authorities.3

It should be noted that the color of the fringe was actually yellow.

Technically, however, it was called a gold fringe. Thus, as far as Army

regulations were concerned, the shade of yellow or gold did not matter as it

was still considered to be a gold fringe. As will be seen, the Klanners literally

interpreted the fringe as yellow.

Roy D. Morton, Post Commander, called a special meeting of the Eldon

C. Kinne Post on Tuesday evening, September 21. Held at the Ellsworth

Community Hall, the session concerned itself with the type of action to be

taken with regard to those involved in the threat against the national colors.

The Post explained that drastic action would be taken, but refused to reveal

the nature of its intentions in this regard4. However, the minutes of the

Kinne Post’s special session reveal the course of action embarked upon.

Einer Jurgenson gave a report on a trip to Fort Snelling with the disputed

banner, after which Roy Morton stated that . .no one could take

exception to our colors”5. Morton believed that a certain element in the

community was about to challenge not only the disputed emblem, but also

the good name of the Legion. A Reverend Garland explained that the

regimental colors in question were seen in many instances during the

Spanish-American War. After Garland proferred his assistance in the

matter, A. B. Lord and Casper Olson rendered a description of the

disturbance at the Post’s booth. Roy Morton was given authority to publish

for the Post incidents surrounding the flag episode. It was also decided that

Theodore Waller, Roy Morton and Arthur Quinn would draw up a letter to

the Governor stating the Legion’s grievances.6

1975]

Turcheneske — Sheriff and Yellow Fringe

15

There followed a vigorous campaign on the part of the Kinne Post for a

full and complete redress of its grievances in the matter of the flag incident.

Sworn out on September 21 was a complaint by the Village Chief of Police,

Adolph C. Olson, which alleged that . .he heard the Sheriff of Pierce

County, Frank L. Baker order the American Legion boys. . .to remove their

colors because it had a yellow fringe and to replace it with the regular

American Flag”7. This complaint was enclosed in a letter of explanation to

Governor John J. Blaine. The committee established to contact the

Governor explained in their letter that the flag was the regular Regimental

Headquarters Colors — red, white and blue with a gold fringe. Referring to

the disturbance at the fair, the committee stated that “the gold fringe was

taken exception to by several individuals among whom was the Sheriff of

our County, Frank L. Baker, who inquired what the yellow fringe was

doing on the American Flag, and ordered those in charge of the booth to

take this Flag down and replace it with one that did not have a yellow

fringe.” The committee made it known that the Post felt the incident to be

an insult not only to the colors but to its good name as well. As far as the

committee was concerned, the episode was . .a legal cause for removal of

said official from office”8.

Theodore A. Waller, Pierce County District Attorney, later wrote to

Frank Kuehl (Governor Blaine’s executive secretary) explaining that the

Governor could . .gather from our letter that the people that objected to

the fringe on the flag were Ku Klux Klan members.” However, no mention

was made of the Klan because it was not yet established that the .

.objections were made by the Klan as a body.” It was more likely that the

demands were the result of individual initiative9.

Proceeding to explain the events of the afternoon of the 16th, Waller

related that there were approximately 20 people who requested the flag to be

removed. As to the crowd’s inquiry into the yellow fringe, Waller said that

this was a mistake on their part since the fringe was gold. Several

individuals objected that “. . .yellow was one of the Pope’s colors, and that

they did not propose in any way to honor him.” Particular focus^ was

centered upon the fact that the Legion Post decided to vent its wrath on one

individual — the Sheriff of Pierce County. The Post . .felt that his

ordering us to remove our colors was uncalled for, and especially so in view

of the fact that no investigation was made as to why the gold fringe was on

our colors. . As the disputed emblem had been used by the Post

previously, the Sheriff should have been more prudent in his approach by

giving the Legion the benefit of the doubt until the facts of the matter could

be ascertained.

Waller explained that the Post was told the law’s provisions for matters

of this kind. Specific reference was made to Section 17.09 of the Wisconsin

Statutes. The Sheriff could only be removed for legal cause. It was

questioned whether there was legal cause for removal. Doubts were raised

because . .we do not know how serious an offense it is for anyone to

order the Colors to be taken down or be removed without any justification

16

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

for so doing.” But it was the Post’s belief that the case should be submitted

to the Governor for a ruling or suggestions should there not be sufficient

legal grounds for impeachment.

Waller further stated that the Legion desired to avoid religious trouble.

This was the primary reason why the matter was not being handled as a

Klan issue. Doing so would have been a mistake. The Sheriff was picked out

because his conduct was unbecoming of an elected official.

The Post realized, said Waller, that there might not be legal grounds for

removal. Still, the Governor might issue a reprimand. Waller suggested that j

the reprimand be formulated in such a way as to leave no doubt that the

Sheriff’s actions were inappropriate. The Post expected at least this much.

The Commandant at Fort Snelling, Minnesota, Colonel W. E. Walsh, did

indeed examine the disputed flag and found that the flag contained no

irregularities. It corresponded to the “. . .general character and make-up,

including the yellow fringe, with the service color prescribed by Army

Regulations to be carried by dismounted organizations of the Army.”

Enclosed in the Colonel’s letter was a copy of those Army regulations which

prescribed the character and method with regard to the use of flags and

colors.10.

Sheriff Baker shortly received a rather vitriolic communication from the

Governor. Blaine stated that the Sheriff was accused of ordering the

Legionnaires to strike their colors because of the yellow fringe. To begin

with, said Blaine, the fringe was not yellow but gold. As these were the

regular regimental colors which the Legion had the authority to display, the

Sheriff had no right to meddle in this aspect of the Post’s business. Besides,

under Army regulations, it made no difference whether the fringe was

yellow or gold11.

Had the law been violated, said the Governor, “. . .it was your duty to

make complaints accordingly.” An attempt to compel the American Legion

to desist from that which they had a legal right to do, bordered on official

misconduct. Were the Sheriff successful in his “. . .arbitrary and

unwarranted intermeddling. . .” Blaine had no doubt that, upon proper

complaint, Baker would have subjected himself to removal from office. The

Governor explained that, for the moment, he would not pass judgment, but

would, however, leave the matter open should there be further complaint.

Publicly defending its position, the Kinne Post explained that confidence

in the government tended to wane when any public official became an

object of suspicion. As they were the guardians of the people’s rights,

public officials were “. . .worthy of trust only so long as they fulfill the

obligation made binding by their oath of office. When they fail to do this

they should be removed.” Making it quite clear that these remarks were

intended for Sheriff Baker, the Legionnaires went on to say that

“THEREFORE WE MAKE CLAIM: A County Officer did cause a near riot regarding

the National Colors which were displayed in a public place before several thousand

people. Therefore he becomes an object of suspicion on the grounds that he is trying to

1975]

Turcheneske — Sheriff and Yellow Fringe

17

undermine the confidence of our National Colors. Further we claim that he is accused

of having conspired to deprive the County of Pierce, State of Wisconsin of his

‘HONEST, IMPARTIAL AND UNBIASED SERVICE’”12

Frank Baker was quick to reply to the charges leveled against him.

Although there was no formal complaint, the Sheriff desired to explain his

version of the incident. The Sheriff admitted to being at the Legion booth at

the request of certain individuals. At the time of the request, Baker “. .

.told them to speak to Mr. Waller. . .as he would no doubt know whether. .

.the colors with the fringe was proper, and that I did not believe there was

any cause for making a disturbance relative to the same.” Nevertheless,

Baker was persuaded to go to the Legion’s booth. While there, the

suggestion was made to hang a flag without the fringe so as to prevent any

disturbances caused through misunderstanding. As to demanding that the

colors be struck, Baker denied ordering the flag to be taken down. In fact,

remarked the Sheriff, one of the Legionnaires offered to replace the flag

with regard to future displays. Satisfied that the Post would do so, Baker

claimed to have left the scene immediately13.

At a meeting called on October 5th, the Kinne Post decided to draw up a

formal complaint, petitioning the Governor to remove Frank Baker as

Sheriff of Pierce County14. Governor Blaine later received a letter from an

interested party as a result of the Post meeting. Arthur Nelson explained

that his attention was called to the discourtesy shown the colors by the

Sheriff. Nelson explained that “Some of our neighbor boys seem to think

that. . .Waller is using his influence with you in favor of Mr. Baker.”

Waller, explained Nelson, appealed “. . .to the boys. . .that it would look

bad for the Legion Post to uphold a wet Governor.” The sentiment around

Ellsworth was described as strong in regard to any member of the Ku Klux

Klan insulting the national emblem. Governor Blaine, wrote Nelson, should

“. . .stand by the boys and the flag they fought for. And anyone insulting

same should have no mercy”15. By way of reply, Blaine explained that the

reprimand was the best he could do inasmuch as no formal complaint had

been filed.16.

Governor Blaine also contacted Arthur Quinn as to whether his letter to

the Sheriff was called to the Post’s attention17. Kinne Post Adjutant A. B.

Lord replied in the affirmative. In addition, said Lord, Roy D. Morton “. .

.will probably be down to see you in the course of a week and then it will be

possible for you to learn of other things that I refrain from at this time”18.

Father Shanaghy of the local Catholic Church, also had some critical

remarks to make concerning the Sheriff. Were the people rid of Baker, said

the priest, a state of tranquility would return to Ellsworth and Pierce

County. Continuing, he explained that “You will probably hear from

Ellsworth in regard to Baker — later. The Legion are determined to put him

out — if only two days before his term expires. I don’t blame them.” Fr.

Shanaghy further explained that he “. . .never knew as mean a man in a

public office.” The priest believed that the Sheriff ought to be removed

should the Legion request it19.

1 8 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

Indeed, Blaine did hear from Ellsworth. Arthur S. Nelson filed and sent

to the Governor a formal complaint petitioning for Baker’s removal. It was

charged that, rather than preserving the peace of the County, the Sheriff, in

demanding the yellow fringed emblem be struck in the presence of a hostile

crowd, “. . .upheld and countenanced the contempt of said riotous group in

maintaining that said Eldon C. Kinne Post, Number 204, of the American

Legion was not within its right in having such colors on display.” The

Sheriff became an object of suspicion as the County was deprived of

impartial and unbiased service. This was so because the Sheriff had failed to

keep the peace insofar as he “. . .neglected to quiet and suppress radical

activities in his county.” As such, the Sheriff should be removed20.

Arthur Nelson was shortly informed by Governor Blaine that it would be

necessary to serve the Sheriff with a copy of the complaint. As the Sheriff

would have to be served 10 days before the commencement of a hearing, the

earliest date for this would be November 20th. The Sheriff would have to

file an answer, copies of which would be sent to the complainants “. . .so

that they will know what they will have to meet at the trial of the case.”

Actually, the hearing date would be decided once Baker’s answer arrived.

Also, a commissioner could be appointed with testimony taken at

Ellsworth. Therefore, it would not be necessary for anyone to appear on

November 20th21.

From the law offices of Casey and Magee at Ellsworth, there arrived on

the Governor’s desk a letter in regard to the complainant Arthur Nelson.

The letter revealed that Nelson was not present at the American Legion

booth when the alleged incident took place. “When the complaint was

drawn, Mr. Nelson was not present, and the whole matter was taken care of

by members of the American Legion.” Though Nelson explained that his

information was hearsay, the Legion officers “. . .failed to have the

complaint drafted accordingly.” An amended complaint was enclosed so

that Nelson would be protected from any difficulties which might otherwise

arise22. Blaine broached no objections to this, stating that the correction

would be duly noted23. In the meantime, Sheriff Baker had received a copy

of the complaint24. The Sheriff, though denying Nelson’s charges, did

admit in his affidavit that the Legion was wholly within its rights displaying

the gold fringed flag25.

Kenneth S. White, a River Falls attorney, explained to Frank Kuehl that

the Ellsworth Legion Post requested his firm to represent them in the

upcoming flag case. There was doubt as to the manner in which the

Governor would proceed. White wanted to know just when and where the

proceedings would commence and whether there would be appointed a

Commissioner to hear the matter. In his conclusion, White remarked that

“If this hearing gets the publicity which it should get it should prove a

knock out blow to the Ku Klux Klan in this state.” It was White’s belief that

no thinking person could support an organization which attacked the

National Flag26.

1975]

Turcheneske — Sheriff and Yellow Fringe

19

Sheriff Baker was advised that a definite time and place had been set for a

hearing on the petition for his removal. The hearing would commence on

November 29 at 10 o’clock in the morning in the Courthouse at Ellsworth.

At that time the defendant would be entitled to be heard, to produce

witnesses and be represented by counsel. Fred M. Wylie was to be the

Governor’s Commissioner27.

On the appointed day, Commissioner Wylie began to take testimony. The

hearing had attracted wide notice, so that the “. . .County Judge’s office at

the Court House was jammed to overflowing with witnesses and curious

citizens. . .”28. All the available seats and standing room were taken up by

the spectators29. Attorney for the complainants was Ferris M. White of

River Falls. Thomas Mohn of Red Wing, Minnesota, was counselor for the

defense. Mohn agreed that the respondent’s answer would be to the

amended complaint. Both parties agreed to waive the personal appearance

of the Sheriff330. Later, Attorney Mohn objected “. . .to the introduction of

any testimony on the ground that the petition does not state any legal cause

for removal.” This was overruled31.

The first witness for the complainants, A. B. Lord, testified that “Why,

when I got there, there was quite a crowd around the booth, probably 25 or

30 men; they seemed to be excited about something.” The crowd, said

Lord, was threatening the colors. If the flag were not taken down, the

crowd said it would tear it down. Though not exactly sure of how many

threatened the flag, Lord believed that there had been 30. The witness

testified that he did not see Baker at that time, but did see him the day or

day after the Sheriff had received a communication from the Governor.

Why Mr. Baker told me, — he says I was called up there at that time, that the crowd was

there and he says I went in there, — he said there was a bunch there and he said they had

on display a flag with yellow stripes and he didn’t think it was the proper flag to display.

He said there was a little small flag in the back end of the booth which did not have the

yellow border on and he said he told them they ought to display that in place of the

other one. Well, I asked him, I says as long as there was such a mob there and they were

rather threatening, didn’t you think it was your duty as a peace officer to protect the

flag or disperse the mob, and he says, I didn’t want to get mixed up in it at all. He says I

got right out and went away. He says he had a talk with his deputy . . . and he says I told

him of the crowds up there, to keep away from it and not go near there at all because we

didn’t want to get mixed up in it.32

However, as far as Lord could tell, there was no violence and no one laid his

hands on the flag or anyone else33.

Lord later testified that, as a reason behind the demands that the colors

be struck, . .1 heard it said that this yellow fringe around the colors

designated it as the Pope’s flag.” In regard to the crowd’s authority for

raising such a demand, Lord explained that “I heard one of them, he said

he had a pamphlet gotten out by Pat Malone, I believe, saying the flag

wasn’t right. . .and that it should be taken down”34. Lord explained that he

suggested to Clair Travis that the War Department be contacted concerning

20

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

the matter. But Claire Travis replied that it was . .no use taking it up with

the War Department. . .that ninety per cent of them are Catholics”35.

Casper Olson, testifying for the complainants, explained that the first

threat to the flag was uttered by Claire Travis. Too, the “general opinion

through the crowd when they was talking seemed to be if we didn’t take our

flag down they would take it down for us.” The general feeling was that the

color yellow should not be on the flag. The crowd, said Olson, did not

explain why the flag should come down. Their only explanation was that it

“. . .wasn’t the American Flag, — it shouldn’t have anything but red, white

and blue.” Yet no one stated their authority in this regard. Baker said the

flag would have to come down. Olson said the Legion’s reply was that it

would only if the flag was not proper36.

Sheriff Frank L. Baker was asked what attracted his attention to the

American Legion booth. Baker replied that he had heard a great deal of talk

on the grounds with regard to the yellow fringe. It was said that the

Legion’s flag was not really the American Flag. As to making any com¬

ments at the Legion’s booth, Sheriff Baker said “Why yes, I says my father

fought under the flag, but I don’t believe it had a yellow fringe on it. . .”

Baker explained that he did not tell anyone to remove the flag. However, he

did suggest that the fringed emblem be replaced with “. . .the American

Flag they had laying on the table. . .” The Sheriff explained that his only

object in saying this was to prevent any friction that might arise. As to hav¬

ing ever observed a regimental flag with a gold fringe, Baker testified that

“I never have, to tell the truth. I supposed every one of our national flags

were exactly alike”37.

Sheriff Baker was then asked whether he was a Klan member. Baker

replied in the affirmative. However, as far as the Sheriff was concerned, the

Klan was “. . .nothing but an American class of people, and I don’t

understand how it has anything to do with the issues whether we are Klan or

not.” Baker was not certain whether all the people in the crowd were

Klanners — although some of them probably were. Baker maintained that

his being a Klanner in no way served to influence him in the performance of

his duties38.

Baker was also asked whether he had anything against the American

Legion. Said the Sheriff: “Well, I should hope not, not against the

American Legion, not in the least. I don’t see how any good American

citizen could have, — I would be a pretty poor American citizen holding the

position I am if I didn’t have respect for the flag. That is what hurts me now

to think that they hold that against me.” Baker believed that he acted and

spoke in good faith. As to other comments, the Sheriff said

all I have to say is, I feel it is trying to humiliate me to think that I am not an American

citizen, when I was born in this country and my father fought under the stars and

stripes. Mr. White knows himself they have been after me ever since I have been in

office because I have tried to enforce the law. ... I was unfortunate to get hurt and be

here now. . . . God, I don’t want you to think because I show a little emotion that I am

1975]

T urcheneske— Sheriff and yellow Fringe

21

chicken hearted or anything like that, but it humiliates me to be classed as un-American

here. I felt terribly out of place when I didn’t have a boy old enough to go to war and I

myself was too old. The American Legion has never had anything going on at any time

when I didn’t contribute to it, but I can’t help this now.39

Edward Guest testified for the defense that the Legion admitted to not

knowing what the fringe meant. Sheriff Baker's point was that as long as

this was the case, the Post could stop the criticism by placing an American

Flag by the fringed emblem. Guest said he asked one of the Legion members

“. . .why they didn't put the American Flag up beside it and they said they

didn’t know how to hang it up. We thought it was funny how they knew

how to hang the other flag up but didn't know how to hang the American

Flag up." Upon further questioning, Guest admitted that the fringed

emblem was indeed the American Flag, but that he believed the yellow

fringe to be out of place. Guest testified that he told no one to take the flag

down40.

Probing further for the rationale behind Guest's objection to the fringed

flag, Attorney White asked the witness on what authority he based his

objections. Guest replied that he got it into his own head. As to the matter

of yellow being a gold color, Guest said “I wouldn't swear to it, but I don’t

think it is." Guest was brought up to believe the American Flag was red,

white and blue. The yellow fringe had no place on the National Flag. As to

being a member of the Ku Klux Klan, Guest admitted that he was, but that

it had no bearing on the situation. He was interested in the flag matter

because he believed it to be his duty as an American citizen. Guest had seen

service in the Army and the Marines, but never saw a yellow fringed flag

and never took the time to give this subject his consideration. Though he

had no objection to gold, Guest was not able to tell the difference between

gold and yellow. As to what the Legion's flag stood for, Guest explained

that “I couldn't tell you what that did stand for with that yellow on it"41.

Ferris White, in his summation, stated that it was the complainant's

position that Baker’s duty was to quell disturbances which inter ferred with

citizens' rights. The Sheriff had an inkling earlier on September 16 that

there was to be a disturbance over the Legion’s flag— -which was why his

deputy was told to say or do nothing. Baker admitted to being a Klansman.

A number of individuals in the crowd also belonged to this organization.

The question was why Baker left the scene when he knew trouble was

brewing. Though there was a dispute as to the exact words of the Sheriff,

the evidence indicated that Baker had said something akin to ordering the

disputed colors struck. The crowd threatened the flag with the apparent

knowledge of the Sheriff. The undisputed evidence was that the Legion had

the legal right to display the fringed emblem. Not only had the Sheriff

acquiesced in the demonstration, but went *4. . .deliberately upon the

streets. . .tackling members of the Post and discussing it publicly, showing

that he himself was publishing the facts of the disregard they had for the

rights of the Legion at the time." As the incident was widely publicized, the

22 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

Sheriff’s actions had the additional effect of disturbing the . .peace and

good will of the citizens of this county, causing turmoil and dissension

between neighbors. . .” It was in this manner that the peace of Pierce

County was disturbed and, inasmuch as Frank L. Baker encouraged the

crowd, he had failed in his duty as a public official. Baker should therefore

be removed from office42.

Responding for the defendant, Thomas Mohn believed the matter of

Baker’s membership in the Ku Klux Klan was irrelevant with regard to the

late proceedings. Also, the Sheriff was not a part of the riotous group and,

as such, the complainants testimony was invalid. Baker was not responsible

for the talk about the propriety of the flag. Most importantly, the Sheriff

went to the fair as an individual. In short, the Sheriff was not guilty of

misconduct in office and, as such, there were no grounds for his removal43.

Commissioner Wylie, in reporting his findings to the Governor, cited Pat

Malone as the instigator of Klan activity in the Ellsworth community during

the previous summer. It was a group of Klansmen and Klan sympathizers

which disputed the authenticity of the yellow fringed flag — which in reality

was gold — and alleged that this emblem was not only the Pope’s color but

the Pope’s flag. Threats were made in the direction of this emblem. Too,

the Sheriff was a Klansman. Evidence indicated that the Post was asked to

take the yellow fringed emblem down. Furthermore, the Legion offered to

have the matter investigated by the War Department, but that several

individuals stated that this was to no avail as the personnel there was largely

Catholic. Also, said Wylie,

it seems that the authority the Klansmen had for their objection to the “yellow” fringe,

and that this was the Pope’s color, was secured either from a pamphlet by said Pat

Malone, or from material in the Fellowship Forum, a periodical published at

Washington, D. C., dealing principally with activities of the Klan and propaganda

against the Catholic religion.44

Though there was not a mob riot, the Sheriff aided and abetted the

disturbance. This was an irresponsible action. Baker should have forseen

that this act would have had the effect of degrading the “. . .office of

Sheriff in the eyes of a great majority of citizens. . .not only the Catholic

citizens of the County, but all citizens other than Klansmen and their

sympathizers, to have lost confidence in the official integrity and judgment

of Sheriff Baker. . .and must have caused resentment that a public official

should ally himself with the Klan. . .” This only served to aid the Klan in its

preachments of hatred and bigotry45.

Concluding his report, Commissioner Wylie stated that the Sheriff was

guilty of misconduct in office “. . .and. . .should be removed from office

except for the circumstance that his term will expire before the order could

be enforced.” Thus removal proceedings would be futile and would tend to

create disrespect for the constitutional authority of the Governor. Under

the circumstances, the best that Governor Blaine could do would be to

concur in his Commissioner’s findings. The Governor might also issue a

severe condemnation of the Sheriff’s conduct46.

1975]

Turcheneske — Sheriff and Yellow Fringe

23

Governor Blaine, in rendering his decision, reiterated Commissioner

Wylie’s findings. Blaine went on to state that the Post was constituted of

both Protestants and Catholics who shared together the burdens of the

recent War. “Yet the Klan, in the furiousness of its fanaticism and its

extreme intolerance participated in an act that disturbed the peace, that was

an affront to the American flag and to the World War veterans, and the

sheriff of Pierce County aided and abetted this disturbance and affront.” It

was intolerable that Baker as a public official, was in alliance with an

organization that practices dissemination of hate, prejudice and

intolerance. Blaine agreed that time did not permit the successful conclusion

of impeachment proceedings. Nevertheless . .public officials who

associate themselves with an organization that undertakes to take

government into its own hands are guilty of official misconduct, and the

membership of Frank L. Baker in the Ku Klux Klan no doubt was

responsible for his neglect of duty and his official misconduct.” In short,

Sheriff Baker had brought dishonor to himself by his association with this

blighting organization47.

After the expiration of his term of office on January 1, 1927, the

erstwhile Sheriff returned to River Falls. Charging the Governor with

slander, Baker stated that

I do not deny that I am a Klansman, but I do deny that being a member of the Klan in

any way disqualified me for performing the duties of Sheriff. There was slander in the

testimony of several witnesses who appeared in the investigation of the Legion flag

affair . . . and the Governor has slandered me in charging that I neglected my duty. I am

going to take the matter directly to the Supreme Court.48

Baker also contended that the fact he was not removed by the Governor did

not make Blaine’s charges any less serious49. However, the case never did

reach the Wisconsin Supreme Court50. Thus the late fringed flag affair was,

for all intents and purposes, closed.

At first glance, the fringed flag affair appears to be ridiculous and silly in

the extreme. But the participation of an elected official (in this case, the

Pierce County Sheriff) in an open confrontation against the Ellsworth

American Legion over what constituted one hundred per cent Americanism

casts a different light on the matter. Participating as Sheriff and not as an

individual, Frank L. JBaker served to undermine the confidence of a number

of Pierce County citizens in the office of Sheriff. Believing its rights

infringed upon, the Ellsworth American Legion ultimately called for the

removal of Sheriff Baker. Had the Sheriff been more prudent in his

association with the Klan, he would not have suffered the humiliation of a

recommendation for his removal from office.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The foregoing article is taken from the author’s Master’s Thesis, The Ku

Klux Klan in Northwestern Wisconsin , written under the direction of

Walker D. Wyman of the University of Wisconsin-River Falls. The author

24

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

wishes to acknowledge with gratitude the assistance and encouragement of

committee members James T. King and Virginia Akins, and desires to

extend a special note of thanks to the Hon. Thomas J. O’Brien of

Hudson, Wisconson, for initially suggesting the project and assisting same.

NOTATIONS

1. Ellsworth Record (East Ellsworth, Wis.), Sept. 23, 1926, p. 1

2. Ibid p. 1

3. Pierce County Herald ( Ellsworth, Wis.), Sept. 23, 1926, p. 1

4. Ellsworth Record loc. cit.

5. Minutes of the Eldon C. Kinne Post 204, American Legion, Ellsworth, Wis., Sept. 21,

1926. Mss, A A II, the Area Research Center, Wisconsin State University, River Falls, Wis.

(hereafter cited KPM)

6. Ibid

7. Affidavit of Adolph C. Olson, Sept. 21, 1926. John J. Blaine Papers, Wis. Mss, P L, The

State Historical Society of Wisconsin, Madison, (hereafter cited as Blaine Papers. Box 59)

8. Letter of Theodore A. Waller, Roy D. Morton and Arthur J. Quinn to John J. Blaine,

Sept. 21, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

9. Letter of Theodore A. Waller to Frank Kuehl, Sept. 22, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

10. Letter of Colonel W.E. Walsh to Roy D. Morton, Sept. 23, 1926, Frank L. Baker

Investigation, Executive Department, Administration, Investigation of Charges, Surveys,

Relief, Disasters and Social Unrest, 1926. Series No. 1/1/8-1, Box 30, State Historical Society

of Wisconsin, Archives Division, Madison, Wis. (hereafter cited as FBI)

11. Letter of John J. Blaine to Frank L. Baker, Sept. 28, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

12. Ellsworth Record (East Ellsworth, Wis.), Sept. 30, 1926, p. 1

13. Letter of Frank L. Baker to John J. Blaine, Oct. 2, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

14. Minutes of the Eldon C. Kinne Post 204, Oct. 5, 1926. KPM

15. Letter of Arthur S. Nelson to John J. Blaine, Oct. 20, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

16. Letter of John J. Blaine to Arthur S. Nelson, Oct. 22, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

17. Letter of John J. Blaine to Arthur J. Quinn, Oct. 22, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

18. Letter of A.B. Lord to John J. Blaine, Oct. 29, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

19. Letter of Father J. F. Shanaghy to John J. Blaine, Nov. 5, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

20. Petition of Arthur S. Nelson, Nov. 8, 1926. FBI

21. Letter of John J. Blaine to Arthur S. Nelson, Nov. 9, 1926. FBI

22. Letter of Irwin E. Magee to John J. Blaine, Nov. 13, 1926. FBI

23. Letter of John J. Blaine to Casey and Magee, Nov. 16, 1926. FBI

24. Letter of John J. Blaine to Frank L. Baker, Nov. 9, 1926. FBI

25. Affidavit of Frank L. Baker, Nov. 16, 1926. FBI

26. Kenneth S. White to Frank Kuehl, Nov. 17, 1926. FBI

27. Letter of John J. Blaine to Frank L. Baker, Nov. 19, 1926. FBI

28. Pierce County Herald (Ellsworth, Wis.), Dec. 2, 1926, p. 1

29. Red Wing Daily Eagle (Red Wing, Minn.), Nov. 29, 1926

30. Earlier in the month Sheriff Baker had met with an accident. As he had not recovered at

the time of the trial, he was unable to appear at the proceedings. See also Letter of Theodore

Swanson to John J. Blaine, Nov. 19, 1926. Blaine Papers, Box 59

31. Commission Hearing, p. 1

32. Testimony of A. B. Lord, Commission Hearing, FBI, pp. 3-6

33. Testimony of A. B. Lord, Commission Hearing, FBI, p. 6

34. Ibid, pp 10-11. Pat Malone, whose headquarters was at Chetek, Wis., was a circuit

lecturer for the Klan in Wisconsin. Anti-Catholic and “one hundred per cent American” in

approach, Malone was a big drawing card at Klan meetings. Interestingly enough, Malone was

not a member of the Klan. Prior to working for the hooded order as a lecturer, Malone rode

the anti-Catholic lecture circuit causing community dissension, disruption and acrimony in

such areas as Elm Creek, Neb. and Oakland, Cal.

1975]

Turcheneske— Sheriff and Yellow Fringe

25

35. Ibid, p. 115

36. Testimony of Caspar Olson, Commission Hearing, FBI, pp. 35-38

37. Testimony of Frank L. Baker, Commission Hearing, FBI, pp. 103-105. The Sheriff’s

testimony was taken at his residence.

38. Ibid, pp. 102-103, 239

39. Ibid, pp. 106-107

40. Testimony of Edward Guest, Commission Hearing, FBI, p. 161

41. Ibid, pp. 173-177

42. Summation of Attorney Ferris White, Commission Hearing, FBI, pp. 259-262

43. Respondent’s Brief, FBI, pp. 1-4. This was sent down to Commissioner Wylie after the

hearing.

44. Report of Commissioner Fred M. Wylie. Dec. 21, 1926. FBI, pp. 1-3

45. Ibid, p. 6

46. Ibid, p. 6

47. Decision of Governor John J. Blaine, Dec. 27, 1926. FBI, pp. 1-4

48 River Falls Journal (River Falls, Wis.), Jan. 6, 1927, p. 1

49. Pierce County Herald (Ellsworth, Wis.), Jan. 6, 1927, p. 1

50. Personal letter of Frank L. Clarke to John A. Turcheneske, Jr., Oct. 22, 1970. Mr.

Clarke is the Clerk of the Wisconsin Supreme Court.

A SOCIAL AND ENVIRONMENTAL HISTORY OF HUMAN

IMPACT ON PARFREY’S GLEN*

Sarah Wynn and Orie L. Loucks

University Wisconsin — Madison

ABSTRACT

The social and environmental history of Parfrey’s Glen, and the

evolution of its management as a natural area, are traced over the past 120

years. Studies of the impact of visitors on the Glen, particularly on the

vegetation, were carried out to evaluate recreational carrying capacity. A

procedure using a Disturbance Index was developed to measure the

degradation in vegetation on upland habitats in the Glen, measured between

June, 1970 and September, 1971. Results indicate that the relatively

undisturbed vegetation near the trails is being degraded rapidly, while areas

that were already so damaged as to preclude further deterioration show no

recovery. Results also suggest that if the Disturbance Index were determined

annually it would show whether the vegetation is recovering under new

management practices. Guidelines for management policies in sensitive

natural areas such as Parfrey’s Glen are offered to allow public access but

alleviate the impact of human use.

INTRODUCTION

Parfrey’s Glen is one of several stream-cut notches in the southern slope

of the Baraboo Hills. It has been known over a century for its beauty, and

has been a favorite hiking and picnic spot for residents of south central

Wisconsin and northern Illinois1. Because of its unique botanical and

geological features, it was purchased by the state in 1947 and designated

Wisconsin’s first Scientific Area in 1952. For some years public use of the

Glen has exceeded 30,000 visitors per season and it now shows signs of

deterioration, a problem it shares with many other natural areas throughout

the United States.

A question being raised with increasing frequency is how to reduce the

numbers of visitors, or successfully regulate them within some quantifiable

carrying capacity. The state and county park systems and state Scientific

Areas were established “. . .to protect in perpetuity certain outstanding

natural features,” but the escalation in numbers of visitors is threatening

the statutory obligation to protect, and no alternatives seem to be available.

The following report attempts to trace the social and environmental

history of Parfrey’s Glen, and the evolution of its management policy, as an

example of how good intentions are sometimes dangerous. Detailed studies

♦Publication of this paper has been aided by a grant from the Norman C. Fassett Memorial

Fund.

26

1975]

Wynn and Loucks — Parfrey’s Glen

27

of the impact of visitors on the environment, particularly the vegetation, are

offered as a means of evaluating carrying capacity. Finally, it is the

objective of this report to make recommendations for changes in the

management policies of this and other state or privately owned sensitive

areas so as to curb long-term deterioration.

The Site

The Parfrey’s Glen property is managed by the State Department of

Natural Resources, Bureau of Parks and Recreation. It consists of 88 acres

designated as the scientific area, and an additional 240 acres of access and

buffer strips (Fig. 1). The hundred foot high glen walls and the small stream

create a shaded, cool, moist microclimate which supports what Curtis terms

moist cliff flora, as well as many northern species (Curtis 1959).

Throughout the Baraboo Hills the diversity of topography, rock types and

local microclimate assures great diversity of vegetation. The driftless area,

including the western half of the Baraboo district acted as a biotic refugium

during the last glacial stage, keeping many organisms alive and encouraging

relic communities. In addition the latitude is such that there is some overlap

of northern and southern species2. The Glen is valued for both its unusual

vegetation (Aconitum noveboracense, Lycopodium selago, Equisetum

pratense) and exposed Cambrian formations.

Yellow birch and mountain ash cling to the moss and fern covered cliff

walls. The cliff-tops support white pine and oaks with an understory of

post-glacial invaders from the south.

The bottom of the gorge is presently strewn with large boulders. The

permanent stream is very small in comparison to the gorge it cut. It is

believed that such gorges were partially cut by glacial melt-waters and

therefore the cutting has occurred within the last 10,000 years. This

downcutting has revealed old, rarely exposed, Cambrian sandstone and

conglomerate (Fig. 2). The shoreline of the early Cambrian sea follows the

face of underlying quartzite. Coarse gravels were formed along this shore,

creating a distribution of conglomerate in discrete relatively thin layers

separated by sandstone layers (Dalziel, Dott and Zimmerman 1969).

Hiking the one-third of a mile between the gorge walls, one is surrounded

by a cool sunflecked, intensely green environment of vegetation, shadow,

and running water. At the end of the gorge a path climbs the cliff wall, and

with the change in elevation comes a rise in temperature and a change from

the moist luxuriant stream bed to the warmer and dryer, sparsely vegetated

cliff tops.

HISTORICAL RECORD

In order to understand the conflicting problems of land use at Parfrey’s

Glen, it is necessary to know something of its history. Primitive man came

28

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

SCIENTIFIC AREA

SCALE

r

o

IN MILES

— r

AREA ACQUIRED IN

4

¥

A

8

1947

1953

1963

PLEASE NOTE: |00' ELEVATION CHANGE

BETWEEN CLIFF-TOP TRAIL AND STREAMBED BELOW

FIGURE 1 Parfrey’s Glen Scientific Area and its surroundings showing Study Areas I and II.

The state-owned property consists of an 88-acre scientific area and an additional 240

acres of access and buffer strips

1975]

Wynn andLoucks — Parfrey ’s Glen

29

FIGURE 2 Boulder-filled creek bed in the gorge cut by glacial meltwater and the

post-Pleistocene stream. The resultant downcut has exposed the old Baraboo

quartzite and the Cambrian sandstone and conglomerate overlying the contact

30

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

to the Baraboo region some 12,000 years ago. Scattered over the area are

remnants of the burial mounds of a later culture, the Effigy Mound

Builders of approximately 1,000 years ago. Since historic time, Sioux,

Winnebago, Chippewa, and Sauk Indians have lived within the district. It

was only after the Blackhawk War ended in 1832 that New Englanders

began to settle what is now Sauk County (Derleth 1948).

Early Post Settlement Development

In 1846 the first of a series of mills was built at Parfrey’s Glen. At this

time an earthen dam was built across the stream and a water wheel installed.

Various grist and saw mills were built during the ensuing 34 years. For ten

years, around the time of the Civil War, the Glen was also the site of a still,

giving the Parfrey’s Glen Road the name Still Road for a number of years.

Robert Parfrey, an Englishman who immigrated to New York State in the

early 1840’s acquired the mill and property in 1865. He worked there milling

grain and dressing mill stones until 1876 when he moved to Minnesota3.

In 1880 milling operations stopped. But by that time people who had

come to the mill were familiar with the beauty of the Glen and had come to

regard it as a scenic recreation spot (History of Sauk County, 1880). From

as far away as Madison, people were visiting the Glen in 1919.

August Derleth in the Sauk County Centennial History (1948) describes

Parfrey’s Glen as the most visited of the glens and gorges of the Baraboo

Hills. The Glen was feeling some impact at this time — certainly it was not in

its original pristine condition for the various dam and mill foundations can

yet be searched out among the vegetation. The land north of Parfrey’s Glen

road but south of the Glen proper had not been acquired by the State at this

time, and visitors had to cross private property and fencelines, which served

to make the glen entrance inconspicuous.

The Natural Areas Committee and Acquisition of the Glen

Correspondence of Norman Fassett (curator of the herbarium, University

of Wisconsin at Madison, 1926-54) shows he was already in 1939 thinking

of a natural areas preservation program. He mentioned the rapidity with

which land was being developed and the consequent demise of unusual

plant communities. Initiating such a program required a sympathetic

conservation commissioner — in the form of Aldo Leopold, appointed to the

Wisconsin Conservation Commission in 1945. An impediment to starting

the program was the interruption of World War II, during which Fassett

worked for a time in Columbia in the quinine industry.

In February 1945, under the leadership of Fassett and with the help of

Leopold, the Natural Areas Committee came into being to work under the

direction of C. L. Harrington, Superintendent of Forests and Parks,

Wisconsin Conservation Department. The committee consisted of a

representative from the University (Norman Fassett), the Milwaukee Public

1975]

Wynn andLoucks — Parfrey’s Glen

31

Museum (Albert Fuller), and the Wisconsin Conservation Commission

(Aldo Leopold). All three of these men had extensive knowledge of

Wisconsin’s vegetation and were superbly qualified to inventory and

recommend specific areas the state should acquire for preservation.

In 1947, the State Conservation Commission allocated $5,000 for land

acquisition. Of this sum, $2,000 was used to buy 88.8 acres of the Parfrey’s

Glen area, consisting primarily of the gorge4. By this time, however, there

already had been a long (almost 79 years) record of recreation use in

Parfrey’s Glen, which undoubtedly contributed to the state’s willingness to

buy the area.

In 1951, the Natural Areas Committee was replaced by the State Board

for Preservation of Scientific Areas (SBPSA) by an act of the state

legislature (Loucks 1968). The board was expanded to six members

representing the University Wisconsin — Madison, the State Universities, the

State Board of Education, the private colleges of Wisconsin, the Milwaukee

Public Museum, and the Conservation Commission, whose representative

was designated permanent secretary of the Board.

The duties of this new agency remained essentially those of the Natural

Areas Committee to: inventory and recommend areas that should be

acquired and given scientific areas status. With the formation of the Board,

a slightly different direction was taken, in that the Board undertook to first

inventory state-owned land and designate as scientific areas those areas that

were unusual or outstanding examples of the various Wisconsin plant

communities.

Parfrey’s Glen was the first area designated a scientific area by the

Wisconsin State Board for Preservation of Scientific Areas in 1952.

Scientific areas are defined as “permanently protected tracts of land or

water in a natural or near natural state which are managed 1) to provide

areas for scientific research, 2) to teach conservation and natural history,

and 3) to preserve for future generations, rare plants and animals or entire

biotic communities, as well as unique geological and archeological

features”5 .

Early in the history of the Natural Areas Committee, it had been decided

that most scientific areas would have to be managed — either treated to

maintain their original state, or merely checked from time to time to see

they were not disturbed. Therefore, when possible, scientific areas were

located in or near state parks or other public lands that were already

supervised. In keeping with this policy, Parfrey’s Glen was made an adjunct

to Devil’s Lake State Park. Thus Parfrey’s Glen is governed by state park

regulations, and is maintained by the Devil’s Lake park staff6.

Management and Promotion of the Glen: 1952-1962

For several years after its purchase, Parfrey’s Glen continued in an

unimproved state. This meant that to get to the Glen visitors had to cross

32 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

private property. As early as 1953 the Parks Division received a letter from

a Baraboo family asking why the Glen hadn’t been improved with picnicing

and camping facilities, as these people understood it was now a state park.

In the fall of 1952, the Citizens Natural Resources Association made a

field trip to the Glen. Their recommendations for management of the area

were as follows:

1 . that the parcel south of the present ownership be purchased for picnic sites and park¬

ing to provide logical access to the Glen;

2. that signs be erected to notify people the area is a scientific area and that picnicing

and campfires are prohibited in a scientific area, and

3. that a permanent botanical nature trail be created, with markers to identify trees,

plants, ferns, etc7.

The first two recommendations were followed: in 1953 the buffer zone to

the south was acquired for $5,000, although it was not until 1955 that a

gravel-surfaced road was constructed up to the scientific area proper. A

parking lot, seven picnic sites, a well, and outhouses were installed by 1959.

The trail through the Glen has never been improved except for a very short

section near the parking lot. At its far end, visitors to the Glen have created

a trail up the bluff; students of a botany class put in railroad ties at three- to

four-foot intervals to try to keep the bank from washing8. A nature trail

marking some of the species would have been educational, but also would

have risked more collecting of plants. If it drew attention to species without

protecting them or otherwise discouraging picking and digging, such a trail

might well have been damaging to the scientific values of the site.

In 1952 the State Board drew up the following general management

recommendations for the scientific areas. Briefly they are:

1. Areas are to be neither posted nor fenced.

2. Existing trails are to be maintained but none constructed.

3. No improvements are to be made.

4. There is to be no timber harvest or berry, nut, or herb gathering.

5. There is to be no picnicing, fishing, hunting or trapping.

6. Ecological management is allowed wherever necessary to maintain an area in an

original or desirable condition. This applies to such management practices as burning,

or mowing, and will apply mostly to prairie areas.

7. General recommendation: WHEN IN DOUBT, LEAVE IT ALONE.

Specific recommendations for Parfrey’s Glen by John Curtis, Chairman

of the SBPSA in 1953, consisted of: “General use-area development limited

to NWSW Sec. 23, balance of area accessible by trail only. Parking area,

1975]

Wynn and Loucks — Parfrey’s Glen

33

picnic facilities not objected to as long as restricted to general landing

area”9. Thus the buffer zone of Parfrey’s Glen, a scientific area set aside to

be preserved for purposes of education, was to be developed with a parking

lot and picnic facilities, both of which would encourage use of the Glen.

In the late 1950ies and early 1960ies the Wisconsin Conservation

Department chose to advertise the Glen, encouraged by local chambers of

commerce. Sauk County listed the Glen as a point of interest in both its

Sauk County brochure and the Sauk Trails: Hiking, Biking, Canoeing

brochure. Over the years mention of the Glen in Devil’s Lake State Park

literature increased from a few lines to five paragraphs in 1961, describing

location, geology and flora. The last two paragraphs served to attract more

visitors, yet asked the area to be treated with care:

“The development of this area is to be of an intentionally restricted nature. The

entrance road leads to a parking area. From this point, access to a small picnic area is

provided, but the rugged part of the Glen can be reached only by foot along the trail.

Toilets and a safe water supply are provided.

“This area must receive a high degree of personal interest and attention from all who

visit it so that its beauty and interesting scientific features may be fully preserved.

Therefore, it is required that the visitor to Parfrey’s Glen refrain from breaking or

removing any of the rock formations or plant materials.”

At the same time, an eight-foot sign was placed at the junction of the

Parfrey’s Glen road with the main highway (Fig. 3). By 1971 the old Devil’s

Lake brochures were no longer available and the new bulletin makes no

mention of the Glen. The sign has been removed and only a small marker

now indicates the entrance of the Glen.

Growing Concern Over Condition of the Glen: 1962-present

For several years during the 1950’s members of the State Board for the

Preservation of Scientific Areas were happy with the improvements made at

the Glen and felt the area was maintaining itself. The October 1960 minutes

show that Roman Koenigs, DNR representative from 1959-62, expressed

some concern about holding the line on preserving the scientific values and

keeping the site from being used for intensive recreational purposes.

Members of the Board visited the Glen at least twice a year to see how well it

was withstanding use. In May of 1962 Henry Kolka, the State Universities

representative to the SBPSA, reported that the Glen was in good condition.

In November of the same year he reported visiting the Glen several times

over the length of the summer and made several recommendations. He felt

it was then necessary to 1) construct paths and restore vegetation where

possible, and 2) post regulations relative to the use of the area. The Board

indicated that any progress he could make here would be desirable.

By the spring of 1963 the Board felt differently about the impact of

people on the Glen. The minutes of May of that year show the change of

attitude of the Board:

34

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

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1975]

Wynn and Loucks — Parfrey’s Glen

35

The Board is concerned with the tremendous overuse of this area. Should it be closed?

The consensus of the Board is that people cannot be kept out of it, therefore, posting the

area and constructing paths with shrubby (thorny) borders, etc., to keep people where

wanted may help. Signing should stress the importance of preserving this valuable area.

Mr. Knudsen was asked to look into the matter of pathway construction. Mr. Knudsen

reported that the land at the upper end of the Glen was under option. This will help for

water diversion.”

Attendance at the Glen (concentrated in the summer months) in 1963 was

25,500 (Wisconsin Blue Books (1960-1970).

By November 1963 George Knudsen (Chief Naturalist in the Department

of Natural Resources) reported on how to decelerate destruction of the

area. The Scientific Areas Preservation Council decided that his recommen¬

dations for signing, trail marking,, “you are here” maps, and barriers be

tried where they would be a practical deterrent to unwanted trail use.

Knudsen was requested by the Board to go ahead with his plans and to use

Parfrey’s Glen as a pilot project.

For a number of reasons the work in the Glen was never carried out. Mr.

Knudsen had to convince the administrative staff in the Parks division that

action was needed, and this was difficult. There were several personnel

changes which also hurt the effort to protect the Glen. There was and still is

a feeling that success is measured by the number of visitors. Present staff at

the DNR have pointed out that “. . .there was and is no one strong

spokesman for a save-the-Glen faction who could gain the respect needed

and push through reforms.”

The following year steps were taken to eradicate Ribes species, so as to

control pine blister rust and help save the white pines in the area

(eradication was not allowed on the cliff faces). At the same time the U.W.

geology department registered a complaint that it was having trouble using

the area for field trips because so many bus loads of high school and grade

school students were scheduled on the same days. SAPC minutes comment,

“The matter will be checked with the Parks and Recreation Division to see

if any solution can be found”10.

In April 1969 a Madison attorney, Tim Wyngaard, inquired about the

over-use of Parfrey’s Glen. The Natural Areas Committee of the U.W.

Center system also expressed concern to Orie Loucks, chairman of the

SAPC until 1970. The Council, through staff ecologist Cliff Germain,

wrote the Bureau of Parks and Recreation to discourage further

development and to see that attention was given to the problem of

uncontrolled overlapping in the scheduling of school groups into the area

on weekends in May.

Adjacent Development Threats

A further threat of the Glen began developing late in 1969 when the

SAPC learned that Joseph Kosik, a Pontiac, Michigan attorney and ski

developer had acquired land adjoining both sides of the Glen. He wanted to

36 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

develop a ski area involving use of part of the Parfrey’s Glen scientific area.

Kosik proposed a trade of 20 acres of land inside Devil’s Lake State Park

for the right to,

. . put some ski runs, which would consist of putting up a chair lift and two pipes for

making snow, over your property. The runs would be 80 to 120 feet in width, all the

mulching would be done by us, and we would keep the grass cut in the summer time.”

There was to be no substantial cutting or filling of earth on the hillside.

‘‘We would want one right of way across your property connecting our east and west

development; however, the bottom part of your property would not be affected and we

would be above the entrance to the Glen. The number of runs we would want would be no

more than three or four so you can see that in the trade we would be giving you several

acres for every acre of use that you would be giving us in return.”

The Parks Division opposed the proposal, as did the SAPC. Kosik

subsequently moved the ski operation about one-fourth mile east of

Parfrey’s Glen11.

Data on number of visitors to the Glen between April and October of

each year have been recorded in the Wisconsin Blue Book since 1960. They

indicate a rise from roughly 20,000 visitors in 1960 to well over 42,000 in

1970. Since then, development of Devil’s Head recreation area has

progressed substantially. The developer has acquired 1,300 acres of the

Baraboo Hills to provide five ski slopes, a wide beginners area, a chalet to

accommodate 800, a skiers’ lounge, gift and ski shops, etc. They expected

80,000 skiers the first season. Summer use will include a golf course, tennis

courts, a riding stable and indoor and outdoor pools. The development also

includes condominium and home sites and a marina on Lake Wisconsin.

Eighty building lots will be available on or near Lake Wisconsin with an

additional eight sites surrounding the ski slopes and a 25-acre lake.

Devil’s Head specifically mentioned Parfrey’s Glen in its 1972 literature

as a place suitable for hiking and horse back riding. The Devil’s Lake Park

Superintendent has since asked that they remove mention of the Glen from

their literature. Nonetheless many more people may be exposed to the Glen

going to and from Devil’s Head than would have been the case if the

development had not been so close.

Initiatives to Curtail Use

Staff of the Division of Parks and Recreation indicated that by 1967 they

were ready to take steps to try to limit the pressure on Parfrey’s Glen. At

this time, however, the reorganization of state government took place12.

The problem since then has been one of retaining a park supervisor long

enough to familiarize him with the need to take steps to preserve the area,

and then to have him stay in charge long enough to implement them.

In September of 1969, several members of the Bureau of Parks and

Recreation met with George Knudsen to make recommendations for steps

1975]

Wynn and Lo ucks — Parfrey ’s Glen

37

to be taken “. . .to reverse the destruction of the area.” Out of this meeting

came a series of recommendations ranging from complete protection

(closing the area except to students, instructors and guided hikes); to partial

protection (the bottom trail to be repaired, possibly railings added and

bridges over the stream, or even a board walk to be constructed); to no

protection and continuing use as at present. All persons expressed concern

over the condition of the Glen but did not feel it could be closed to the

public. However several representatives did feel . .the state recreation

division should provide primitive access type areas for those interested in

making a little effort to see something unique” and thus were in favor of

removing picnic facilities and shifting the existing parking lot closer to the

main road. Several of the recommendations stemming from this meeting

were implemented a year later.

In early October of 1970, close to the end of the season, the picnic tables

and grills were removed. More important, a gate was installed at the

entrance of the road into the Glen that is closed every evening at sundown.

ANALYSIS OF HUMAN IMPACT ON PARFREY’S GLEN

By June of 1970 the Scientific Areas Preservation Council was aware of

the need for specific evidence of degradation of Parfrey’s Glen. They

wanted a summary of the ongoing degradation and a method devised to

monitor it. From this they hoped to develop an understanding of the

potential effects if degradation were not checked, to be followed by

recommendations for preservation and management. To meet this need, the

senior author undertook field studies in the Glen during 1970 and 1971.

Signs of Human Impact

Physical and aesthetic deterioration were found to be the primary

manifestations of the heavy people impact on the Glen. The main path was

found to be heavily worn— in some places rutted, in others continually

exposing many roots and stones (Fig. 4). Of equal concern is the

proliferation of secondary pathways through the Equisetum in the bottom

lands, and the killing of much of the original vegetation along the tops of

the cliffs (Fig. 5). In addition, some of these subsidiary trails are short cuts

up and down cliff faces and their use results in dislodged vegetation and

sand which starts erosion. As the sand washes down the cliff faces it kills the

mosses and ferns and as they in turn wash away, they expose more sand and

so the cycle expands.

Typically, a certain number of plants are picked, broken and trampled in

any heavily used area. Fortunately, many of the rare plants of the Glen are

located above peoples heads and out of reach, but they are still vulnerable

to washing. Trampling on top of the cliffs, however is preventing the

reproduction of the white pine and mountain ash, and over a large area,

even oak and the herbaceous and woody ground layer species.

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

FIGURE 4 The public paths in the Glen are heavily worn and are leading to severe erosion

1975]

Wynn and Loucks — Parfrey’s Glen

39

40

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

The Glen is best experienced alone or with one other person on a day

when one can leisurely take the time to let the senses absorb all that

surrounds. But having too many people both within view and earshot

detracts from the serenity and beauty of the Glen, while peoples’

paraphernalia, the cars jamming the parking lot and the access road, and

trash overflowing all available bins, are all too evident. The majority of

Glen visitors are well behaved and do not litter. Nonetheless sheer numbers

can mar and degrade both the Glen experience and its physical existence.

Vegetation Study

Two areas already subject to wear were selected as sites for detailed study

(Fig. 1). Area II comprises the path and the surrounding area as it climbs

the cliffs, and Area I is an adjoining area on top of the cliffs. These areas

were chosen because they showed three degrees of disturbance: undisturbed

(Fig. 6), partially disturbed and very disturbed. Transects were laid out and

60 quadrats located along them in each area, such that one-third were

designated in each of the undisturbed, partially disturbed and very dis¬

turbed areas (Wynn 1973).

Determination of a Vegetation Disturbance Index . Presence and number

of each herbaceous or low shrubby species found in Areas I and II were

recorded over a 15-month period from June 1970 to September 1971 to

determine changes in numbers of individuals. Seven species which showed

distinct change in numbers over the study period have been identified as

indicator species. “Decreaser” species (Dyksterhuis, 1957; Curtis, 1959) are

at maximum densities in an undisturbed plant community and decrease in

density with increasing intensity and duration of disturbance. In this

instance the disturbance is trampling. Antennaria neglecta (pussytoes),

Aster macrophyllus (big leaf aster), Gaylussacia baccata (huckleberry), and

Leucobryon glaucum (cushion moss) species were designated as

“decreasers”. Each of these lost one-third to one-half their original number

(Fig. 7).

“Increasers” are species that were original members of the community

and which increase in density initially under light disturbance, apparently in

response to lessened competition (Dyksterhuis, 1957). These species also

decrease under conditions of severe disturbance. Two increasers recognized

from the data were Vaccinium myrtilloides (blueberry) and Hamamelis

virginiana (witch hazel). Vaccinium increased only slightly, from 144 to 155

individuals in Area I but from 55 to 145 individuals in Area II, an area being

subjected to relatively heavy use at the time this study began.

“Invaders” are a third category that includes plants and other

measurable features that are not capable of entering the original community

but which become established with disturbance. A species of moss on bare

soil, open area covered only with litter, and surfaces with neither vegetation

1975]

Wynn and Loucks — Parfrey’s Glen

41

FIGURE 6 Undisturbed understory vegetation some distance off path along the trail up the slope (Research Area II)

42 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

nor litter (bare) were designated “invaders”. Invaders showed a slight to

moderate increase in Area I, already badly degraded, but increased rapidly

in the less disturbed Area II (Fig. 7).

From the data in Figure 7, and the indicator species identified, a

procedure for computing a Disturbance Index was set up and applied to

each condition of disturbance in both sampling areas (Table 1). The

presence of the indicators in any of the 20 quadrats in each class was

weighted by 5 for decreasers, 3 for increasers and 1 for invaders. Of the 9

indicators, 4 are decreasers, 2 are increasers and 3 are invaders. To make the

number of increaser and invader indicators equal to the decreasers, the

former were multiplied by 2 and the latter by 1.3. In Table 1, columns 1

(number of occurrences) and 2 (equivalence factor) are multiplied together

to give a value in column 3 for each species, which, when multiplied by the

weighting term, (column 4) give the disturbance index component for each

species (column 5). The summed Disturbance Index components are then

divided by the total value of column 3 and multiplied by 100 to give a

Disturbance Index Total per stand. (5/3 x 100 = Disturbance Index Total

per stand.)

The procedure outlined in Table 1 was applied to the quadrat data

available for the three observation periods during 1970 and 1971. The

results in Table 2 show the changes in Disturbance Index (D.I.) that took

place during the 15 months from June of 1970 to September 1971.

The potential range of the Disturbance Index is from 100 (very disturbed)

to 500 (diverse, undisturbed). A Disturbance Index value of 500 will occur

if a decreaser is in fact present in every quadrat, but no increasers or

invaders appear; a value of 100 will occur if only invaders are present. A

value of >400 represents frequent occurrence of the decreaser species, and

can be viewed as a healthy ground cover for this type community. A value

between 250 and 400 indicates an intermediate degree of disturbance, and

values lower than 150 indicate severe disturbance.

The utility of establishing a measure of vegetation degradation is its

ability to quantify the present condition of vegetation sustaining some

disturbance. The data involved only the occurrence of indicator species and

is therefore readily obtained and can be computed annually to determine a

trend in the quality of the plant communities.

Interpretation of Impact on Forest Herbs and Shrubs. The results of the

Disturbance Index indicate that the understory vegetation is being degraded

severely, and those areas that were already so damaged as to preclude much

further damage (with Disturbance Index values around 160-170) are not

recovering.

Area I at the top of the bluffs appears to have reached a static, but

unhealthy condition. Disturbance Index values for partly disturbed sites

dropped from 270 in June of 1970 to 245 in September of 1971, indicating

gradual breakdown of a healthy system. The very disturbed areas, reduced

1975]

Wynn and Loucks — Parfrey’s Glen

43

AREA I

6-70

9-70

6-70

9-70

INDICATOR SPECIES

DECREASERS

—80—

—40 —

— 0 —

(25)

9-71

ANTENNARIA NEGtfCTA

PUSSEYTOES

6-70

—80—

— 40 —

— 0 —

9-71 v 6-70

ASTER MACROPHYLLUS

LARGE LEAFED ASTER

—80 —

— 40—

— 0 —

6-70 9-70 9-71 ~ 6-70

QAYLUSSAC1A BAQQATA

HUCKLEBERRY

AREA IE

(95)

9-70

9-70

9-70

W4)

9-71

9-71

9-71

9-70

—30*

-20-

— 10-

6-70

9-71 6-70

LEUCOBRYON GLAUCUM

9-70

9-71

SQUARE METERS INDIVIDUAL PLANTS

44 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

INCREASERS

(12)

(16)

-120—

— 80—

-40—

— 0 —

VACCINIUM MYRTILLOIDES

BLUEBERRY

(23)

6-70

9-70

9-71

— 80—

— 40 —

— o —

6-70

9-70

9-71

HAMAMEUS V1RQM.ANA

WITCH-HAZEL

INVADERS

— 10 —

— 5 —

-0 —

(I)

6-70

(8)

9-70

(18)

9-71

HYPNUM S.R

— 10 —

— 5—

— 0 —

LITTER

—30 —

— 20 —

— 10 —

— 0 —

EMPTY

(7)

6-70

6-70

(9)

9-70

9-70

(14)

9-71

9-71

FIGURE 7 Changes in the number of individuals of the indicator species from June 1970

through September 1970 to September 1971. Each Decreaser species was reduced by

one-third to one-half their original numbers. The response of Increasers and Invad¬

ers was more irregular, depending on initial conditions.

1975]

Wynn and Loucks—Parfrey's Glen

45

Table 1 . Sample calculation showing use of the indicator species and computation of the

Disturbance Index

*The equivalence factor is required because different numbers of species are used for

increasers, decreasers, and invaders.

♦♦Weighting terms were arbitrarily assigned to create a spread of values, high values represent¬

ing undisturbed vegetation, low values, disturbed vegetation.

***D„L Sum = D.I eomp./Equiv. factor x 100

Table 2. Comparison of values of the vegetational Disturbance Index over a fifteen month

period from June, 1970through September, 1971 in upland habitats at Parfrey’s Glen.

to Carex pensylvanica and sparse litter, are remaining constant with values

in the 160’s and 170’s*

In Area II, on the slope, a rich, undisturbed vegetation existed until June

of 1970, as indicated by the very high D.I. value (475). The D.I. values

dropped sharply in both undisturbed and partly disturbed quadrats during

46

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

the summer of 1970, and sustained some further damage by the next

September. During the year, the path had been widened and eroding sand

washed onto the previously undisturbed areas. Thus, by September 1971,

the quadrats that had been undisturbed in the spring of 1970 show serious

disturbance (D.I. 345), and the areas of partial disturbance (D.I. 440 in

1970) dropped to very disturbed levels (D.I. of 212) by the fall of 1971. The

very disturbed quadrats also dropped by the end of the second year.

The responses of individual species and environmental measures also

show the effects of human impact over the 15-month period. Bare area has

increased 60% in both study areas and by 1971 fully one-third of the

quadrats sampled show severe damage. Northern species such as

wintergreen, pipsissawa, and Canada mayflower show most of the outright

mortality. When healthy, these species develop as mats of herbaceous

cover. The shrubby species, particularly blueberry, seem to be able to take

advantage of disturbance, at least initially. The sequence in the decline of

the vegetation particularly along the path up the cliffs, seems to be:

(1) Thick moss and herbaceous mats are either loosened or covered with washing sand;

(2) Sensitive herbs die out due to the trampling and the increased exposure;

(3) Eventually the shrubs lose their rooting and show reduced vigor; and

(4) Finally, only a scattering of Carex pensylvanica and the invading moss species is left.

The data available to date are probably not sufficient to reach any

conclusion as to the effects on the reproduction. The dominant overstory

tree, white pine, is not reproducing successfully in any of the areas, but only

a few seedlings per acre are needed. . .Seedlings 1 - 2 years of age can be

found in the partially disturbed areas but nothing beyond that age. Older

seedlings are frequent in the undisturbed areas but none occur in the

severely or partially disturbed sites.

DISCUSSION: THE PAST AS A GUIDE TO THE FUTURE

The problem of overuse and the resulting degradation at Parfrey’s Glen

seems to have arisen in part from misconceptions as to intent of the original

acquisition. Operationally, the Glen is viewed as a scenic recreational area,

as evidenced by its management through the administration of Devil’s Lake

State Park. The tradition of public use precluded the option of having the

former Conservation Department close the Glen to the public when it first

was designated as a state Scientific Area. The addition of picnic facilities in

the 1950ies actively encouraged the public to come to the Glen. Indeed the

main thrust of the Conservation Department’s management has been to

create an intensively used recreation area, or to at least accommodate the

public as the public wished.

1975]

Wynn and Loucks—Parfrey *s Glen

47

It is the sensitive and rather exotic flora, combined with the high canyon

walls, that attract people to Parfrey’s Glen. Should the vegetation become

severely damaged, as indicated now by the results in this report, the area

will lose some of its attractiveness to visitors. Thus, for recreational as well

as the educational and research purposes, it is necessary to maintain the

physical and biological integrity of the area.

Use of a vegetation index of disturbance has documented both the

amount of degradation and the rate at which it is proceeding. Those areas

that were considered originally to be undisturbed or partially disturbed

degenerated to a “disturbed” rating in 15 months. At the same time, total

bare area increased 60%. If this rate of deterioration is allowed to continue,

the two study areas will have almost no ground cover left within five years.

If the scenic value of the resource is to be maintained (or restored), it

appears that the responsible agency, the Department of Natural Resources,

should take the steps necessary to terminate the cause of the damage.

In this study, the physical and biological carrying capacity of an

educational and/or recreational area has been defined as that level of use

which allows the area to maintain itself in a healthy condition, for the

purposes intended, over a significant period of time. Use at Parfrey’s Glen

implies visitors for educational and recreational purposes. The numbers of

visitors should be managed within limits that allow maintenance of the

qualities that attract visitors. Such a goal required a sensitive measure of the

condition of the biological features of the Glen.

The results reported here suggest that if the Disturbance Index is

determined every year at Parfrey’s Glen, it can be shown whether the Glen’s

vegetation is deteriorating or recovering under whatever management

practices are followed. Presumably, a steady state can be reached between a

more limited number of visitors and the vegetational carrying capacity of

the Glen. As long as the index shows continued deterioration, further

limitation on users would be necessary.

MANAGEMENT POLICIES FOR PARFREY’S GLEN

The foregoing analysis has suggested a range of guidelines appropriate

for guiding management policies in a sensitive area such as Parfrey’s Glen.

(1) Consideration of the physical and biological characteristics of the area that led to its

establishment as a Scientific Area should come first; consideration of accommodating

larger numbers of visitors should be second.

(2) A carefully monitored management program should be implemented with means for

guiding intensity of use until a steady state in recovery of the vegetation has been

maintained for several years.

(3) To achieve a recovery, the numbers of visitors should be decreased to the levels

reported during the early 1960ies, approximately 25,000 persons per season; this may

be accomplished by making public access to the area more demanding and by limiting

use of the area to hiking rather than picnicing.

48 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [Vol . 63

(4) The areas to be used for hiking in the Glen should be clearly marked, directing people

where, as well as where not to go.

As of 1970, a number of steps had been taken by the Dept, of Natural

Resources in response to recommendations by the State Naturalist, George

Knudsen, and other expressions of concern: Picnic tables and benches have

been removed and picnicing is now prohibited; a gate has been erected at the

entrance road which is closed daily between sundown and 8 AM the

following morning; and a sign at the gate notifies the public of the hours the

Glen is open, and that area use is restricted to hiking on existing trails only.

On the basis of the above analysis and guidelines, the results of this study

indicate that the following additional steps should be taken:

(1) To restrain freedom of access, the entrance roadway should be torn up and a small

parking lot relocated at the Parfrey’s Glen town road. This would increase the total

length of the hike through the Glen by % mile.

(2) The main path through the lower Glen should be covered with crushed granite or other

material to alleviate the eroding conditions of the muddy path. The path along the

edge of the upper cliffs, as well as all subsidiary paths, should be blocked off by using

fallen trees and brush. If this proves ineffective, these paths should be planted so as to

close off traffic.

(3) Natural obstacles such as dead trees should be thrown across eroding areas in order to

control the loss and decomposition of soil.

(4) Areas on the top of the cliffs should be experimentally treated with a thin layer of

wood chips or other mulch and covered with nylon mesh to simulate leaf and needle

litter, a treatment that has been shown to encourage seedling and herbaceous growth.

If successful, this should be followed up with reintroductions of native shrub and herb

species.

(5) The large groups of grade shcool, high school, and college students who annually use

the Glen should be notified of the problem of overuse of the Glen, and should be asked

to consider other locations or to obtain permission from the Bureau of Parks and Rec¬

reation before visiting the area.

(6) The Bureau of Parks and Recreation should initiate a procedure for handling reserva¬

tions as a means of controlling the number of visitors at any one time. These

procedures would allow spreading out groups as widely as possible over the spring and

fall months. Organized groups should not be permitted on weekends or holidays,

because of the heavy public use at those times.

(7) An electric sensor should be installed at the gate to give more accurate counts of the

numbers of vehicles entering the area.

(8) At the end of each year the numbers of visitors should be totaled and the vegetation in¬

dex recomputed. If the index shows further deterioration of the vegetation, additional

steps should be taken:

The area could be set up to operate solely on a reservation system via Devil’s Lake

State Park. This could entail an electronic tunstile in the gate with “keys”

obtainable only at the Park. If group traffic is still too heavy, and is the cause of

continuing damage, each group should be restricted to visits on a rotating basis of

once every one or two years.

1975]

Wynn and Loucks—Parfrey’s Glen

49

The steps outlined above are designed (in keeping with the above

guidelines) to further alleviate the human impact on the Glen, both by

limiting areas of public access and making access more difficult.

Action of the Scientific Areas Preservation Council , 1972

A preliminary copy of this report was made available to the SAPC in

early 1972. In May of 1972, the SAPC met with representatives of the DNR

to review the status of visitor management at the Glen. The council made

nine recommendations addressing a goal . .to maintain. . .a sustained

level of use which would protect existing vegetation and restoration of

damaged sites”13.

1 . Establish conservative opening and closing hours in spring and fall and on summer

evenings.

2. Establish a new parking lot near the highway and close the present road to all traffic ex¬

cept educational groups with reservations.

3. Permanently close the trails leading up the bluffs.

4. Begin designing, and by 1973 begin installing, a deadend boardwalk.

5. Establish regulations to prohibit hiking beyond the end of the box canyon.

6. Move toilet facilities to a site near the county highway entrance.

1. Within 2 or 3 years take steps toward installing a perimeter fence.

8. Control publicity to prevent unwarranted promotion of use.

9. Through contacts in educatinal agencies, work toward the establishment of a system of

reservations to prevent overlapping visitation schedules.

In addition, it was suggested that cooperation might be solicited from the

Environmental Education Administration, Dept, of Public Instruction, in

trying to limit the number of groups taking educational tours in the Glen

during any one season.

The SAPC recommendations were aimed primarily at preserving the Glen

by physical amendments (installing a boardwalk, closing the present road,

establishing a new parking lot), without necessarily reducing the number of

visitors. While the SAPC did not specifically ask for a monitoring program

in its recommendations, it did suggest curtailment of public access over and

above use of a dead-end boardwalk, and asked for curtailment of

“unwarranted promotion of use.”

Action by the Department of Natural Resources , 1972

In mid- July of 1972 a group of 10 Dept, of Natural Resources personnel

concerned with the management of Parfrey’s Glen met to discuss

50

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

recommendations of the Scientific Areas Preservation Council. The staff

committee agreed on the following decisions, and proposed that they be

implemented by May 1, 1973:

1 . The entire area shoud be closed to the public, except for developed facitlities. This will

involve amending Code 45 to read, “Use of area is restricted to constructed facilities

only, except by permit issued by chief naturalist and Scientific Areas Council. No food

or beverage permitted on trail.”14 Constructed facilities will consist of the parking

area, toilets, and a boardwalk into the canyon. This will limit indiscriminate use of the

upper rim of the gorge and should eliminate further damage to vegetation there.

2. Limit hours of use. Code 45 should be further amended to reflect “Parfrey’s Glen is

closed to the public from one half hour before sunset to sunrise.” This will prevent un¬

attended use of the Glen.

3. Construct a boardwalk into the canyon. Park Planning will immediately design a

boardwalk into the canyon to protect its unique vegetation. Park Planning as part of

the review of the site plan, will also investigate the possible construction of a hiking trail

beyond the end of the box canyon.

4. Station a limited term employment naturalist at Parfrey’s Glen. An LTE naturalist will

be stationed at the Glen to conduct tours on a scheduled basis. The naturalist is

expected to have credentials to enforce Code 45 and will have the limited employment

training required.

5. Continue present parking lot and toilet facilities. In view of the above, the parking lot

and toilets will remain in their present location. This decision will be subject to reval¬

uation in the future.

6. Road to be gated during closed hours.

7. Post boundary on area. The boundaries will be posted because the costs of fencing

the entire tract would be high. A decision on fencing is deferred to determine the

effectiveness of posting.

8. Control publicity and promotion at this time. The area is not to be publicized or pro¬

moted in any way until the above items have been implemented. Once the above

control measures are in effect, degeneration of the area should be eliminated and the

public need not then be denied knowledge of the area.

9. Encourage advance scheduling by schools. Schools using the area should be encour¬

aged to make advance reservations with the naturalist in order that the school group

tours do not conflict with one another.

Evaluation of Actions, 1971-1972

The group making the DNR recommendations stated that the objective of

the Bureau of Parks and Recreation at Parfrey’s Glen

“. . .should not be to limit public enjoyment and educational value of this unique area by

restricting or eliminating public use. Our objectives should be to eliminate all environ¬

mental degeneration through the means outlined. If the area is to be ‘locked up’ as it were,

it is questionable if our Department has any statutory or funding authority to

accomplish this end.”15

1975]

Wynn and Loucks — Parfrey’s Glen

51

The DNR proposals highlight the fact that no state agency has the

authority to enact or enforce regulations restraining public activities on

state land except by the addition of local regulations in what is known as

Code 45. Two of the proposed restrictions to provide protection for the area

involve revisions to Code 45 which may delay implementation of the needed

protection by a year or more. On the other hand the posting of signs and

blocking of trails to the cliff-tops involved little cost and can be done at

once16.

The proposed boardwalk will limit and concentrate the use of Parfrey’s

Glen to those areas that are developed, will prevent access to the upper trail

where the most serious damage is occurring, and will allow the vegetation to

recover up to the boardwalk. The current damage to vegetation on the cliff

tops will not be alleviated until specific treatments are made (e.g. mulching)

to stop erosion and encourage revegetation (Wynn, 1973). In restraining

wandering and climbing, the boardwalk will concentrate visitors in a

controlled area, and to some extent the enjoyment of the Glen in relative

solitude will be lost. The naturalist capable of interpreting the geology and

flora of the Glen will greatly enhance educational value.

The DNR actions indicate that they continue to believe they must

accommodate a major public presence on land that was specifically

acquired as a preserve. In authorizing a boardwalk, the Department is

acknowledging the need for preservation, but in the context of continued

heavy public use and at the expense of the “natural” aesthetics of the area.

In the tradeoff between maintenance of natural aesthetics and the

physical preservation of Parfrey’s Glen, the boardwalk increases the quality

of natural vegetation at relatively little loss of aesthetic quality. In light of

the earlier management guidelines suggested in this paper, the boardwalk

appears to be the most satisfactory solution to the problem of overuse in

such a small, fragile area.

However, two years later (May 1974) none of the proposed measures had

been acted upon due to the high cost of the boardwalk and the seasonal

naturalist’s position.

CONCLUSIONS

The background on ownership and use of Parfrey’s Glen over the past

120 years has been summarized, together with a comparison of damaged

and undamaged biota. The results document the continuing degradation of

the Glen and lead to a number of suggestions for new management to

restore the original qualities sought by visitors to the Glen.

The county, state and federal agencies concerned with the use of natural

resources in central Wisconsin should be further encouraged to recognize

the limits of fragile areas. Properly guided, the public also will develop a

greater awareness of its impact on fragile areas and the means necessary to

lessen that impact. With greater public and agency awareness and

52

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

cooperation, natural areas like Parfrey’s Glen can be rehabilitated, used,

and preserved without drastic dislocation of public rights and privileges.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The research was carried out under the sponsorship of the Department of

Botany and the Institute for Environmental Studies. The authors are

grateful for the support of the University of Wisconsin Graduate School

and for the assistance of the Wisconsin Areas Preservation Council. We

also wish to thank Ken Lange for providing early historical records.

NOTATIONS

1 . Parfrey’s Glen is located in the southwest quarter of Wisconsin in Sauk County in Township

1 1 N, Range 7E , Sections 22, 23 . It may be reached by going west one block on Highway 113, then

north 2.5 miles on Cemetery Road and then west 0.3 miles on the Parfrey’s Glen Road.

2. The bottom of the Glen is characterized by some red maple, sugar maple and basswood but

particularly by yellow birch and musclewood and a few white pine higher up on the cliffs. The

cliff tops on the west facing side are covered with birch, white pine, and mountain ash along their

edges, but further back, red oak, white oak, and some large tooth aspen are present.

3. Letter to Ken Lange, Devil’s Lake Naturalist, from Mrs. Helen Toms, a Parfrey

descendent, dated August 22, 1970.

4. Minutes of meeting of Wisconsin Conservation Commission, January 14, 1947.

5. John T. Curtis, 1952, Statement of Policy, Minutes of the State Board for the Preserva¬

tion of Scientific Areas.

6. Robert Freeman, Report on Parfrey’s Glen and the Scientific Areas Preservation Council.

Re: Boyle and Cords vs. Anderson, August, 1971. Office of the Attorney General, State of

Wisconsin.

7. Interoffice memorandum, Wisconsin Conservation Department, toE. J. Vanderwall, from

W. E. Scott, Subject: CNRA visit to Parfrey’s Glen, October 2, 1952.

8. Personal communication with Ken Lange, Naturalist, Devil’s Lake State Park.

9. John T. Curtis, General Management Recommendations, SBPSA, February 21, 1953.

10. See SBPSA minutes from May 1, 1962 through January 1964 for that information.

11. Letter to Lowell Hanson, acting director, DNR, from Joseph Kosik, Attorney at Law,

Pontiac, Michigan, October 14, 1969.

12. The Departments of Conservation and Resources and Development were combined into

the Department of Natural Resources. At this time the State Board for the Preservation of

Scientific Areas became the Scientific Areas Preservation Council with essentially the same

duties.

13. Minutes, SAPC May 1972.

1975]

Wynn and Loucks— -Parfrey’s Glen

53

14. Code 45 is the body of administrative rules for managing state parks, forests, and wildlife

areas. The code is determined by the Natural Resources Board and is usually amended each year.

15. Minutes, DNR Committee on Parfrey’s Glen, July 13, 1972.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Curtis, John T. 1959. The vegetation of Wisconsin. University of Wisconsin Press, Madison,

590 pp.

Dalziel, I. W. D., R. H. Dott and J. H. Zimmerman. 1969. Geology of the Baraboo District,

Wisconsin. Geological and Natural History Survey, Madison, 78 pp.

Derleth, August. 1948. Sauk County Centennial History. 41 pp.

Dyksterhuis, E.J. 1957. The Savannah Concept and its use. Ecology 38: 435-42.

History of Sauk County. 1880. Western Historical Company, Chicago.

Loucks, Orie L. 1968. Scientific areas in Wisconsin: fifteen years in review. BioScience 18:

396-398.

Wisconsin Blue Books. 1960-70. Department of Administration, State of Wisconsin.

Wynn, Sarah. 1973. A Social and Evironmental History of Parfrey’s Glen. M.S. Thesis.

University of Wisconsin— Madison, 59 pp.

ECOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL ASPECTS OF ASPEN

SUCCESSION IN NORTHERN WISCONSIN1

James S. Fralish

Southern Illinois University

—Carbondale

ABSTRACT

Compositional change (succession) was investigated in 53 aspen

communities of north-central Wisconsin. Replacement of aspen by other

species of the northern hardwood-white pine forest varied widely across the

soil texture gradient, if only site quality and site requirements were

considered. Replacement patterns also appear closely related to competition

and historical factors such as cutting and fire which have eliminated seed

sources in certain geographic areas.

Quaking aspen {Populus tremuloides Michx.) is the major component of

the early successional forest in northern Wisconsin. This forest became

established some 40 to 60 years ago as a result of widespread cutting and fire

which substantially reduced the pre-settlement forest to scattered patches.

Aspen is shade intolerant, and thus, like other pioneer species, will

eventually be replaced by northern hardwood-conifer components through

the process of succession.

Succession, the gradual change in forest composition over time, is a

function of differences in shade tolerance and ability of species in the

seedling and sapling size classes to withstand competition compared to

overstory trees. Since most tree species found in the northern hardwood

forest are considerably more shade tolerant than quaking aspen, it has been

assumed that in the absence of continued disturbance these species would

replace aspen on nearly all sites, if given sufficient time. Time is frequently

of critical importance in the case of aspen, since it matures in only 40 to 60

years in northern Wisconsin.

Aspen stands begin to deteriorate soon after maturity is reached. Trees in

the main canopy die, possibly due to competition, and crowns of the

remaining trees do not expand sufficiently to fill the gaps. Wind velocity

increases in these more open stands and the remaining trees may suffer

increased mechanical as well as moisture stress. Recently, Tobiessen and

Kana (1974) reported the absence of a mechanism to control water loss from

quaking aspen leaves. The absence of such a mechanism may ultimately

cause stand deterioration through death of mature aspen whose crowns are

suddenly exposed to increased wind velocity and associated water loss. The

process of deterioration may take less than 5 years after maturity is reached.

1 . Publication of this paper has been aided by a grant from the Norman C. Fassett Memorial

Fund.

54

1975]

Fralish — Aspen Succession Wisconsin

55

Moreover, for some sites, a period of 60 years may not be sufficient time

for seed to become available and seedlings established in the understory. As

stands deteriorate on dry sandy soils, the vegetation becomes open,

uneven-aged nonproductive aspen with Rubus , and other miscellaneous tree

and shrub species (Fig. 1) as described by Fralish (1972). On these poor

FIGURE 1: Aspen in an advanced stage of deterioration on dry sandy soil.

sites, quaking aspen can be easily regenerated and site productivity

maintained. On better sites, conversion is generally rapid because of large

numbers of shade tolerant species usually found in the understory;

however, while site productivity is maintained, the quality of hardwood

stems is generally low. It is on these sites that time and money must be

invested to maintain the aspen forest type.

In a recent northern Wisconsin study (Fralish, 1969), the conversion of

aspen stands to other species was investigated. The objective of this paper is

to examine species invasion patterns in quaking aspen stands and relate

these patterns to soil, site, and historical factors.

56

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

STUDY AREA AND METHODS

The study area is located in north central Wisconsin and includes

Lincoln, Oneida, Vilas, Price, and Taylor counties. These counties are

representative of areas logged for pine and hardwood and subsequently

burned.

Upland soils are classified as Spodosols (weak Podzols intergrading to

Gray Brown Podzolics) with an albic (A2) horizon near the surface and an

underlying spodic (Bhir) horizon. Soil textures range from coarse sand to

silt loam depending upon the character of the geologic deposit: glacial

outwash, glacial till, or loess. Dry, coarse sand and light sandy loam soils

(Crivitz, Hiawatha, and Vilas series) are found in glacial outwash, while

soils of medium texture ranging from heavy sandy loam to loam developed

in glacial till (Elderon, Iron River, and Pence series). These soils are

excessively drained but often have a water table within the lower portion of

the rooting zone.

Over a large area of Lincoln, Price and Sawyer counties, glacial material

is covered with 18 to 36 inches of loess. Soils formed in loess are

substantially finer in texture than those formed in glacial deposits and have

a higher water holding capacity. On slopes and ridge tops these silt loam

soils are well and moderately drained (Goodman, Lynne, and Stambough

series) and somewhat poorly drained in depressional areas (Clifford series).

In this paper, soils formed in glacial outwash, glacial till, and loess are

referred to as coarse-textured (70-95970 sand), medium-textured (30-70%

sand), and fine-textured (0-30% sand) respectively.

Stands chosen were: 1) required to be fully stocked or occupying the site,

2) undisturbed by cutting or fire since establishment, 3) distributed within a

stratification system to include approximately equal numbers of stands on

each of three soil texture classes, and 4) further subdivided on the presence

or absence of a white pine seed source within 660 feet. A total of 53 such

quaking aspen stands were selected for study.

Within each stand, five points were randomly located with the criteria

that any two points could not be closer than 76 feet. Each of the 5 points

represented the center of 3 nested circular quadrats: tree data were collected

on the 0.10 A quadrat, sapling data on the 0.025 A quadrat, and seedling

data on the 0.01 A quadrat. Species and diameter were recorded for all trees

over 4.5 in. in diameter at 4.5 ft above ground level (d.b.h.). Saplings

smaller than 4.5 in. but larger than 1.0 in. d.b.h. were recorded by species.

Seedlings were considered smaller than 1 .0 in. d.b.h. but larger than 0.25 in.

at 6 in. height.

Soil near each of the five points was examined for horizon type, texture

and depth. Samples from each major horizon were collected and analyzed

for texture in the laboratory using the Bouyoucos method described by

Wilde, Voigt and Iyer (1964). For the study area as a whole, soil texture

formed a smooth gradient from coarse sand to fine silt loam; however, in

the analysis, the gradient was broken into as many as 9 divisions on the

1975]

Fralish — Aspen Succession Wisconsin

51

basis of percentage of sand (i.e., 1-10, 10-20,. . ., 80-90%). Presence

(number of stands in which a species occurs/total number of stands) and

density (number of stems per acre) for seedlings, saplings, and trees for

species other than aspen were calculated and plotted for each division of the

textural gradient.

RESULTS AND DISCUSSION

Several species or species groups appear as major components in the low

and mid-level strata of aspen stands. Sugar maple (Acer saccharum

Marsh.), red maple (A. rubrum L.), and other somewhat shade tolerant

hardwood species were found in high density in a large proportion of

stands. Included in the northern hardwood group are white ash (Fraxinus

americana L.), American elm (Ulmus americana L.), red elm (U. rubra

Muhl.), yellow birch (Betula lutea Michx.f.), American basswood ( Tilia

americana L.), and eastern hemlock ( Tsuga canadensis (L.) Carr.). White

pine (Pinus strobus L.) was also a common understory plant on many sites.

A number of other species were found on a variety of sites but in low

density; most are generally shade intolerant so they contribute little to stand

conversion. These species are white birch (Betula papyrifera Marsh.), black

cherry (Prunus serotina, Ehrh.), pin cherry (P. pensylvanica L.), willow

(Salix spp.), red oak (Quercus rubra L.), red pine (P. resinosa Ait.) and

balsam fir (Abies balsamea (L.) Mill).

Analysis of the data was limited to species that probably will be major

components of the forest on some sites as succession continues. Sugar and

red maple replacement patterns are analyzed separately because of their

density and common occurrence. The other northern hardwood species are

treated as a group because of their low individual numbers, yet significant

collective contribution to the process of conversion. White pine will

eventually be important on some sites and is considered separately.

Three primary factors apparently influence species invasion into aspen

stands: site quality, seed availability, and inter-species competition. While

these factors must be considered separately, they do interact to create some

unusual distribution patterns.

Effect of Site Quality. The relationship between per cent presence and

soil texture is, in part, a function of species site requirements and site

quality. There is a nearly linear relationship between per cent presence and

soil texture for sugar maple and the other northern hardwood species (Fig.

2a and 3a) which are adapted to sites where soil moisture is readily

available. They are found in all stands on soil of 0-10% sand and in about

one-half of the stands on medium textured soil, although some seed is

generally available to most stands. These species are rarely present on

coarse textured soil.

Density of sugar maple and northern hardwood is also controlled by site

quality (Fig. 2b and 3b). Xeric soil conditions appear to limit sugar maple

density at the far end of the texture gradient (80-90% sand). Although seed

58

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

PERCENT SAND ( B2 HORIZON )

FIGURE 2: Upper(a): Percentage of stands (presence) containing sugar maple in any size class

by ten per cent sand classes. Lower(b): Average number of seedlings, saplings, and

trees per acre by ten per cent sand classes for stands containing sugar maple.

FIGURE 3: Upper(a): Percentage of stands (presence) containing northern hardwood species in

any size class by ten per cent sand classes. Red and sugar maple are excluded.

Lower(b): Average number of seedlings, saplings, and trees per acre by ten per cent

sand classes for stands containing northern hardwood species. Red and sugar maple

are excluded.

1975]

Fralish — Aspen Succession Wisconsin

59

sources adjacent to aspen stands are absent, sporadic input of some sugar

maple seed occurs through long range dispersal. In eleven study stands on

soil of 80-90% sand, only one sugar maple stem was recorded in the

seedling class, but four stands had numerous sugar maple stems below the

minimum seedling size. Such seedlings had originated from seed germinated

earlier in the spring. The absence of stems older than a few months is

evidence that sugar maple seedlings do not survive on the driest soils.

Eastern hemlock density pattern is an exception to the general trend of

decreasing density as soil texture becomes coarser. Hemlock does not

appear on silt loam soils and is present on medium and coarse textured soils

in low but consistent density. Because of decreasing numbers of hardwood

stems, it accounts for an increasing proportion of the total number of stems

as the percentage of sand increases (i.e., 3% in the 50-60% class; 29% in the

70-80% class; 87% in the 80-90% class). Hemlock will probably continue to

increase in importance on coarse textured soil.

In contrast to sugar maple and other northern hardwood species, both

red maple and white pine are tolerant of a wide range of habitat conditions.

Red maple in particular appears in a large proportion (80%) of the study

stands (Fig. 4a) and at moderate density, regardless of soil texture (Fig. 4b).

The presence or absence of understory white pine is a reflection of the stand

selection process as an equal number of stands with and without a white

pine seed source was sampled on each of three broad soil texture classes.

The relationships indicated in Fig. 2 and 3 suggest that rate of succession

to sugar maple and northern hardwoods is determined by site quality: as

available soil water decreases, the rate of succession decreases, particularly

at the coarse end of the texture gradient. However, density of sugar maple

across the texture gradient follows a more parabolic relationship (Fig. 2b),

while northern hardwood species density is variable with size class (Fig. 3b).

Red maple presence is relatively constant, yet seedling density changes

substantially across the gradient (Fig. 4b). Differences in indicated rates of

succession are influenced not only by site quality but also by the availability

of seed and inter-species competition discussed in the following sections.

Effect of Seed Availability. Presence or absence of a seed source for

invading species appears dependent on the interaction of historic and

geologic factors. The effect of such interaction on succession is different for

each geologic deposit: outwash sand, till, and loess. Seed availability will be

considered with particular reference to sugar maple, as it is one of the most

important species in the Lake States forest. At present, tree-sized sugar

maple and stems of northern hardwood species are too young to produce

seed, so that seed must come from trees located outside the study stands.

Glacial outwash (70-90% sand) is found in the northern and eastern parts

of the study area. Sites on this material are generally dry and have little

topographic relief. After cutting, it is probable that these sites were burned

frequently and severely because of their generally xeric condition, and

completely because of flat topography. As a result, sugar maple and other

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

FIGURE 4. Upper(a): Percentage of stands (presence) containing red maple in any size class by

ten per cent sand classes. Lower(b): Average number of seedlings, saplings, and trees

per acre by ten per cent sand classes for stands containing red maple.

northern hardwood stands appear to have been eliminated as active or

potential seed sources where soil moisture reserves could support them.

This hypothesis is strengthened by considering one study stand on soil of

76% sand. Substantial numbers of sugar maple seedlings and saplings were

present because seed was available from an adjacent mixed hardwood

stand, predominantly sugar maple, and because of somewhat improved soil

moisture levels compared to most soil of coarse texture. The hardwood

stand was considerably older than the aspen and exhibited little evidence of

past fire.

Glacial till is found scattered through the central, north central and east

central portions of the study area. Aspen stands on glacial till (30-70%

sand) have relatively high numbers of sugar maple stems (Fig. 2b), primarily

due to availability of seed and improved soil moisture reserves that permit

1975]

Fra l is h — Aspen Succession Wisconsin

61

higher rates of seedling survival and growth. Six aspen stands adjacent to

pole-sized northern hardwood stands contained between 274 and 1000 stems

per acre with over 50% in the seedling category. Four stands isolated from

maple seed sources had less than 200 stems per acre with two stands

containing less than 10 per acre. Twelve stands with no sugar maple in the

understory were also isolated from a seed source.

Northern hardwood stands are generally common on glacial till.

Moderate topographic relief of these deposits may have modified the effects

of wildfire and thus, scattered hardwood stands on protected sites were not

eliminated by fire after cutting. These stands now produce large amounts of

seed. Farming still continues on broad ridges of this material and may have

provided some protection from fire through the presence of interspersed

cultivated fields.

Loess deposits are located in the western and southern portions of the

study area. Twelve of fourteen study stands on these soils contained sugar

maple in at least one stratum in each stand although seed sources appeared

absent in a number of stands. Four stands located adjacent to pole-sized

hardwood forest had understories of maple ranging in density from 260 to

900 per acre. A fifth stand had only 86 stems per acre but a density of 1200

stems below a diameter of 0.25 in. at a 6 in. height. Four of seven stands

isolated from a seed source had less than 50 sugar maple stems per acre.

Two stands with no maple were on loess isolated in a large section of dry

sandy soil in the east central part of the study area where a seed source does

not presently exist.

These silt loam soils (0-30% sand) retain large amounts of water and tend

to have a fragipan layer that results in lateral movement of water near or on

the surface, and in slow internal drainage. It is suggested that after forests

were cut on fine textured soil, ridge tops became relatively dry and burned

over, thus generally clearing the site for aspen invasion. Substantial

amounts of water existed in lower topographic positions due to runoff, and

recently cut northern hardwood stands were more protected. Forty to fifty

years later, aspen stands on higher ground are often adjacent to hardwood

stands developing in depressions, and large amounts of sugar maple can be

found in the understory. In some areas, drier depressions burned along with

the slopes and ridges, and seed sources were entirely eliminated. However,

seeds from trees some distance away occasionally reach all stands; because

moisture conditions are generally good to excellent on silt loam soils,

seedling establishment rates are probably high, and every stand contains a

few sugar maple stems.

Seed sources for sugar maple (i.e. , mixed hardwood stands) are also

sources for northern hardwood species and thus similar distribution

patterns should occur. The average density pattern for hardwood saplings

and trees across the texture gradient (Fig. 3b) is somewhat similar to that for

sugar maple. Highest density is found on the medium textured and some

fine textured soils with low density at the extreme ends of the texture

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

gradient. Unlike tree and sapling densities, however, seedling numbers

appear to increase exponentially as soil texture becomes finer. Difference in

seedling density between sugar maple and northern hardwoods is best

interpreted in the next section on competition.

Red maple bears seed at an early age; thus the historical effects of fire are

generally not evident on medium and fine textured soil. Many small trees

now in the aspen understory appear to be active seed sources. However,

recovery from cutting and fire is slow on coarse textured soil and, as it

proceeds, larger amounts will appear in the aspen understory.

The effect of white pine seed availability on the composition of the aspen

understory is illustrated in Table 1 . Regardless of soil texture, where seed is

TABLE l

AVERAGE NUMBER OF WHITE PINE SEEDLINGS, SAPLINGS, AND

TREES PER ACRE FOR ASPEN STANDS WITH AND WITHOUT A WHITE

readily available it appears that white pine will be a component of the forest

replacing aspen. In the absence of a seed source, white pine seedling and

sapling density is low (2-9 stems/ A). Moreover, the distribution patterns of

seed sources have been substantially changed due to fire and topography

and resemble patterns for deciduous species.

On soils of 70-90% sand, mature white pine are frequently found near

places of human habitation and at edges of swamps and low depressions

where fire was infrequent. On flat higher land surfaces, white pine is more

or less absent. In contrast, mature white pine are nearly ubiquitous on

medium textured soil and in the course of data collection there was some

difficulty locating stands without a seed source. It appears that white pine

will replace aspen where seed is available on coarse textured soil and will be

a component of the hardwood forest replacing aspen on soil of medium

texture. Mature white pine are generally absent on fine textured soil and

only three aspen stands with seed source were sampled. White pine of any

size are generally absent in the newwood area of west-central Lincoln

County, although early logging records indicate pine was present in the late

1800ies. The absence of white pine is probably related to past cutting and

fire.

1975]

Fralish — Aspen Succession Wisconsin

63

Interspecies Competition. Competition affects individual species density

across the soil texture-moisture gradient. The shade created by aspen and

other species probably affects sugar maple establishment and survival

substantially less than does available soil moisture and seed availability.

Sugar maple is an exceptionally strong competitor on moist sites where it

may dominate the understory to the detriment of other species. Red maple

and other northern hardwood species are also adapted to moist sites and

usually occur in the same stands with sugar maple (Loucks and Goff 1967).

However, except for hemlock, they are slightly to moderately less shade

tolerant than sugar maple and the degree of competition may effect their

success or failure.

The data in Figs. 2b and 3b must be compared by soil texture groups to

show the effect of competition. On coarse textured soil, stem density is low

so competition is not a factor in survival of somewhat shade intolerant

species such as red maple or white pine. On fine textured soil, seed sources

for sugar maple and northern hardwoods are often absent and thus

numbers of stems are often relatively low. Sugar maple and northern

hardwoods are found in equal average density with approximately 230 total

stems per acre for all size classes; only 25% of these stems are classed as

saplings and trees. At these densities and size classes, competition is not a

factor affecting seedling survival and thus density of northern hardwood

seedlings is relatively high compared to numbers found on medium and

coarse textured soil. Although most intolerant of the deciduous species, red

maple is at its highest density (335 stems/A for all size classes) particularly

in the seedling class (255 stems/A). It appears that an intermediate

community with a higher proportion of red maple than found in undis¬

turbed forest may develop before its density is reduced to pre-disturbance

levels.

Competition is more severe on medium textured soil. Sugar maple has an

average density of 467 stems/A with nearly 40% in the sampling and tree

classes. This intermediate layer combined with the aspen overstory and

other larger stems creates considerable shade and substantially reduces the

density of northern hardwoods. There is a sharp drop in seedling numbers

from fine to medium textured soils, even though seed is more generally

available because of the close proximity of hardwood stands. An average of

only 55 seedlings per acre is recorded (Fig. 3b). Densities of yellow birch,

basswood, and white ash are most affected by this increased level of

competition.

Red maple is more shade intolerant than northern hardwood species and

thus the relative decrease in density is greater for red maple seedlings than

for northern hardwoods. Lowest average seedling density (90/ A) on soil of

25 to 45% sand is recorded where highest average combined density for

sugar maple and northern hardwoods is found. A review of individual stand

data strongly suggests that red maple seedling numbers are substantially

reduced by the high density of more shade tolerant saplings and trees found

on medium textured soil.

64 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

White pine is the least shade tolerant of the major tree species replacing

aspen. The data in Table 1 indicate a decreasing seedling and sapling density

from coarse textured (129/A) to fine textured soil (52/ A) for stands with a

seed source. White pine occurs only in stands on medium textured soil

where deciduous species are nearly absent. Decrease in density appears due

to competition from more shade tolerant tree species, and understory

shrubs ( Corylus cornuta, hazel and Pteridium aquilinum , bracken fern).

Corylus in particular increases in frequency and density as soil texture

becomes finer. Sugar maple, northern hardwoods, and red maple are

sufficiently shade tolerant to be unaffected by density of Corylus. Similar

reductions in white pine numbers due to competition were reported by

Logan and Farrar (1953) and Clement (1966).

CONCLUSIONS

Systematic change is occurring in the aspen community of northern

Wisconsin. Sugar maple, red maple, and other species associated with the

northern hardwood forest predominate in understories of stands on sandy

loam and silt loam soil as the relatively high water holding capacity of these

soils permits the growth and development of species that require sustained

moisture. Relationships that occur between vegetation response (presence

and density) and soil texture are the result of environmental factors (soil

moisture, topography), seed availability, fire history, and adaptations of

the various species; there appears to be interaction between a number of

above factors. For example, past fires on level terrain of outwash sand have

substantially changed the geographic distribution of mature trees and

stands that would normally provide seed to initiate succession. Steeply

rolling topography of glacial till areas altered the severity of fire on various

sites and some hardwood stands recovered rapidly after cutting; they now

provide seed for invasion of adjacent aspen stands.

Fire as modified by topography has changed the distribution of mixed

hardwood stands in north-central Wisconsin, and as a result, has influenced

the rate of succession in many aspen stands. The present patterns for sugar

maple stems are thus explained on the basis of fire occurrence (as it affects

seed source distribution) and site requirements. Presence and density of less

shade tolerant hardwood trees and saplings may also be explained by these

two factors; however, seedling distribution is influenced by competition

from the developing mid-canopy strata as well as from the availability of

seed and site requirements. Red maple bears seed at a very early age and

thus is less affected by fire history and topography, but its density is

strongly influenced by competition.

Data presented for eastern hemlock, red maple, and white pine strongly

suggest that these species will become increasingly important on coarse

textured soil; few important hardwoods are able to tolerate the dry

conditions of these soils. Hemlock is present in small numbers and will not

1975]

Fralish — Aspen Succession Wisconsin

65

significantly contribute to aspen conversion for some decades. However,

red maple appears in nearly all stands across the textural gradient and will

be an important component of replacement stands. The distribution and

density of white pine is strongly related to availability of seed and

competition from trees and shrubs.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The author wishes to thank Dr. Orie L. Loucks (Department of Botany,

University of Wisconsin, Madison) for his technical assistance during the

course of the research, and the North Central Forest Experiment Station,

St. Paul, Minn., and the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources,

Madison, for their financial assistance.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Clement, John R. 1966. Development of a white pine under-plantation in thinned and unthin¬

ned aspen. For. Chron. 42: 244-250.

Fralish, J. S. 1969. Site indices and rates of conversion in northern Wisconsin aspen. Ph.D.

Dissertation. Univ. of Wis. Madison, Wisconsin.

Fralish, J. S. 1972. Aspen: youth, maturity, and old age. Aspen Symposium. North Central For¬

estry Exp. Sta. Gen. Tech. Bull. No. NC-1. pp. 52-58.

Logan, K. T., and J. T. Farrar. 1953. An attempt to grow white pine under an aspen stand.

Canad. Dept. Res. and Dev., Div. For. Res. Silvi. Leaf. No. 77.

Loucks, O. L., and F. G. Goff. 1967. Seedling and sapling composition of the aspen type in

Menominee County in relation to soil texture. Univ. Wis. For. Res. Note. No. 181. 7 pp.

Tobiessen, P., and T. M. Kana. 1974. Drought-stress avoidance in three pioneer tree species.

Ecology 55: 667-670.

Wilde, S. A., G. K. Voigt, and J. G. Iyer. 1964. Soil and plant analysis for tree culture. Oxford

Publishing House. Calcutta, India. 209 pp.

THE LITTORAL MACROPHYTE VEGETATION OF

SOUTHEASTERN DEVIL’S LAKE1

F. Christopher Baker

Madison , Wis.

INTRODUCTION

Over the past century Devil’s Lake has been studied by many commercial

and government agencies, but little has been done on the aquatic vegetation

of the lake. Prior to the present study only the types of vegetation were

known. The purpose of this study was to describe and map a segment of the

present submerged vegetation in a specific area of the lake.

Devil’s Lake (Fig. 1) is a glacial lake overlying an ancient Wisconsin River

bottom. The lake is located in eastern Sauk County (T-ll-N, R-6-E) about

'Publication of this paper has been aided by a grant from the Norman C. Fassett Memorial

Fund.

66

1975]

Baker — Macrophytes Devil's Lake

67

three miles southeast of Baraboo, Wisconsin. The maximum depth is 12.2

m according to the Wisconsin Conservation Dept, lake survey map of

8/12/55.

Kashawago Springs, on the southwest side, is the major inlet to the lake.

Numerous other springs also add to the water supply. Water seepage

through the lake bottom and evaporation are the only outlets.

The east and west sides of the lake floor are very steep, with large rocks

and little sediment to support vegetation. The north and southwestern areas

are heavily used for recreation purposes. The southeastern section of the

lake is not heavily used and has a large, gently sloping lake floor ideal for

vegetative growth. For this reason it was chosen for the study area.

METHODS

Field Methods

Devil’s Lake was sampled by a line transect method developed from that

of Lind and Cottam (1969). Plastic ropes marked in 5m intervals were used

as the transit lines. Three 150 m transect lines were run from the shoreline

toward the center of the lake at 100 m intervals. Because of the depth of

water and length of line a rowboat was used for laying the line. Every 20 m

the line was weighted to stop drifting. Stakes were used to anchor the ends

of the line in the water. Once laid, the line was studied by a swimmer, using

SCUBA apparatus. Plant species intercepting the 5 m marks and their

density were recorded. At the 50, 100 and 150 m marks on the 150 m line,

100 m intercept lines were run parallel to the shoreline. Plant species were

recorded as before. For mapping purposes the azimuth of each line was

taken with a compass.

One meter square quadrats were harvested every 50 m on the intercept

lines. Number of total stems in each quadrat and the dried weight of the

vegetation harvested were recorded. From these data estimates of the

average standing crop and density of the total plant population were found.

Bottom sediment was sampled on transect line intercept 2. Samples were

taken every 37 m starting with sample 1 at 37 m. Voucher specimens of the

plants are on file at the University of Wisconsin — Madison Herbarium.

RESULTS

Water Depth, Bottom Sediment

The outer and inner limits of the vegetation appear controlled by depth.

The mean depth of the littoral zone is 1 m near shore and 6 m offshore.

Scattered and highly stunted plants of Potamogeton robbinsii and Elodea

canadensis can be found below the depth of 6 m.

Sand composes almost all of the littoral zone sediment: 95% of the total

littoral zone is sand with 5% organic matter, located at the outer limit.

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

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Vegetation of Devil's Lake

Seven plants were recognized in the lake community: Potamogeton

confervoides , Potamogeton amplifolius, Potamogeton robbinsii, Elodea

canadensis , Vallisneria americana, Myriophyllum verticillatum and Isoetes

braunii.

P. confervoides (Fig. 2) is scattered, occurring between 1 and 3.6 m in

depth. The outer zone for the plant corresponds to the inner zone for P.

robbinsii (Fig. 2). The latter grows in a solid stand extending from

approximately 1 to 6 m at which point it becomes very scattered and

stunted.

FIGURE 2 Distribution and relationship between P. confervoides and P. robbinsii

M. verticillatum (Fig 3) grows very scattered, at 1.2 to 4.5 m depths

contributing little to the population of the total community.

V. americana (Fig. 3) is a relatively scattered plant, allowing most

community species to compete for space. It was usually found in loosely

spaced clumps, at depths 1.8 to 5 m, but the entire group of clumps did not

exceed 35 m in width.

E. canadensis (Fig. 4) covers the largest area and is found at 1.2 to 6 m

depth. It grows mainly in solid stands at depths from 2 to 6 m and is

scattered at less than 2 m depth.

P . amplifolius (Fig. 5) is the largest plant in the community and grows in

small (5m2 to 20 m2) pure stands, suggesting a community in itself by its

complete dominance of the area inhabited. Its range is between 3 and 4.8 m

depth.

1975]

Baker — Macrophytes Devil's Lake

69

FIGURE 3 Distribution and relationship between V. americana and M. verticillatum

FIGURE 4 Distribution of E. canadensis

I braunii (Fig. 5) is a rare plant in the community, found only in one

limited area; it grows singly or with several others nearby, at the depth of

1.6 m.

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

Productivity of the Standing Crop

On cross transect D to A, which falls approximately at the 2 m depth, five

1 m2 samples were taken to give an estimate of the community standing

crop. Along this transect the total community density averaged 36 stems/m2

and the standing crop 40 g/m2. On transect E to B, which falls at

approximately 3.5 m depth, five 1 m2 samples showed a total community

density of 116 stems/m2 and a standing crop of 120 g/m2.

DISCUSSION

In the aquatic plant community of southeastern Devil’s Lake, E.

canadensis seems to be the most successful species. It occurs at all depths

and is dominated only by P. amplifolius , and possibly P. robbinsii in part.

It does not appear to be a dominating plant because of its ability to coexist

with the more scattered plants such as P. confervoides.

P . amplifolius dominates other species in the area it occupies. It covers

little area in the total community and is apparently not a very successful

plant as evidenced by its sparse distribution.

P. robbinsii is the most abundant plant in the community, dominating

most species and often inhabiting large areas in pure stands. P. robbinsii

and E. canadensis are apparently quite compatible, being frequently found

together in solid stands with no infiltration of other community species.

1975]

Baker — Macrophytes Devil's Lake

71

V. americana is apparently restricted by depth, growing only between 2

and 5 m. It is also rarely found inhabiting an area with other vegetation; so

it seems to be restricted to only open areas between other stands on the lake

floor.

P. confervoides is a successful plant in the shallower depths of the water.

It is the only plant in the community that grows in solid stands at less than 2

m. Below 2 m it becomes scattered and noncompetitive for space.

M. verticillatum fe apparently successful in competing for space with the

other species, being found in dense stands of such plants as E. canadensis

and P. robbinsii. However, it does not grow in solid stands itself, but is

scattered within the stands of the other species.

A unique relationship occurs between P. robbinsii and P. confervoides.

They apparently can not coexist in the same area, as shown by the narrow

overlapping between them. This inhibition occurs in both shallow and deep

waters in relation to these plants.

SUMMARY

With the exception of P. robbinsii and P. confervoides , there are

apparently few distinct relationships in the total community of southeastern

Devil’s Lake. Environmentally, water depth seems to be the major factor in

controlling the vegetative growth in the littoral zone. Bottom sediment

could play a part in limiting the vegetative growth below the depth of 6 m,

but it appears that at lesser depth it has little effect.

Because of the relatively small size of the area sampled and the

pronounced differences in the lake floor terrain, future research is needed in

other areas of the lake in order to draw any major conclusions concerning

the vegetation as a whole. The Kashawago Springs and surrounding area,

the northeastern, and northwestern portions of the lake would be of

particular interest for such future research.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The author wishes to express his thanks to Dr. John W. Thomson, Dr.

Frank B. Baker, and LeRoy Lee for critical reading of the manuscript and

for advice; to Jeff Becker for aid in the field, and to the Dept, of Soil

Science at the University of Wisconsin — Madison.

The work upon which this paper is based was supported in part by the

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters, Junior Academy

Program.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Lind, C. T., and G. Cottam. 1969. The submerged aquatics of University Bay: A study in

eutrophication. Amer. Midland Naturalist 81: 353-369.

HISTORY AND THE HUMANITIES*

Frank L. Klement

Marquette University

Milwaukee, Wis.

The Humanities have their roots in that cultural diversity called “Western

civilization.” These roots fed upon the trivium and quadrivium of the

medieval university1 and upon the humanistic scholarship of the 14th

century, when Petrarch and Boccaccio advocated a new attitude toward the

classical past. These self-styled humanists turned their backs upon

scholasticism and the so-called “art of arid disputation” and advocated

practices which they said would teach men wisdom, the attainment of a kind

of knowledge that would make men grow in virtue. The humanists,

according to their own words, sought to reintegrate man into the world of

nature and history, and to interpret him in this perspective; they considered

the liberal arts to be instruments or disciplines which educated man as such,

putting him in a position to exercise his freedom. They believed that poetry,

rhetoric, history, ethics and politics nurtured the spirit of freedom which

justified man’s claim to dignity and human values. The humanists of the

Renaissance, then, contrasted these disciplines or subject-matter fields with

divine studies, both as to means and meaning.

The roots of the Humanities also fed upon the reaction to the

overemphasis and glorification of science and scientism following that

intellectual movement called the Enlightenment. Some 19th century

humanists saw science rather than theology as their adversary, and they

contended that man could find the truth through insights and intuition,

formulating the vague concepts of transcendentalism. These “new

humanists” nurtured the romantic movement as well as the liberalism and

nationalism which swept over Europe and America during the first half of

the 19th century. “To be sure,” they said, “man is a part of nature and can

be studied as such by the natural sciences; but in addition, man is also a

product of his culture and of his own drives and choices, and in these

respects he cannot be known without an understanding and comprehension

of purpose and meaning”2.

History, as the branch of knowledge dealing with the past, antedates the

Humanities. Clio, the muse presiding over history, dates back to the ancient

Greeks. Herodotus, one of the earliest practicing historians, stated that he

wrote “to preserve from decay the remembrance of what man had done.”

Thucydides said “. . .history is philosophy learned from example.” Cicero

claimed that history possessed several dimensions — that it molded the spirit

and humanized mankind. “History,” he wrote with feeling, “is the witness

that testifies to the passing of time; it illuminates reality, vitalizes memory,

provides guidance in daily life, and brings us tidings of antiquity”3. Cicero

even wrote down guidelines for historians: “The first law for the historian is

♦Presented as a paper on September 17, 1974, as a part of the program dedicating Richard E.

Hibbard Humanities Hall on the campus of the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire.

72

1975]

Klement — History and Humanities

73

that he shall never utter an untruth. The second is that he shall suppress

nothing. Moreover, there shall be no suspicion of partiality in his writing,

or of malice. The humanists of the 14th century, by glorifying Greek and

Roman literature, inadvertently transformed history into a discipline, an

area of knowledge worthy of study.

The Enlightenment, setting the base for social sciences, gave disciples of

Clio a definite assignment. Apostles of the Enlightenment claimed that the

world of mind and matter was governed by perceptible Natural Laws and

that reason could discover these guiding principles and prompt man to live

in harmony with them. History was but the record of the progress made in

discovering the Natural Laws and man’s headway in abiding by them. The

debate, whether history belongs to the Humanities or the social sciences,

really dates back to the dogmatic assertions of such proponents and

prophets of the Enlightenment as Voltaire or Rousseau or John Locke.

An array of notables, on the other hand, have put history on the side of

the angels, discrediting it as a social science. Hegel said, in effect, that we

learn from history that we learn nothing from history. “What experience

and history teach,” he wrote in the introduction to his renowned work,

Philosophy of History , “is this— that people and governments never have

learned anything from history, or acted on principles deduced from it”5. H.

G. Wells also cast an aspersion, writing, “Human history is in essence a

history of ideas”6. Winston Churchill, with a gift for imagery, said,

“History with its flickering lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying

to reconstruct its scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams

the passion of former days”7. And Willa Gather, a lady of letters, wrote

perceptively, “The history of every country begins in the heart of a man or

woman”8.

At the turn of the century, that is, in the decades between 1890 and 1910,

two forces made an effort to kidnap Clio and hold her for ransom. One of

the forces, “the scientific method” as defined and practiced by Leopold

von Ranke, tried to depict history “as it actually happened.” Ranke made

an effort to present what he called “objective history,” an account devoid

of political partisanship, nationalistic narrowness, moral judgments, and

religious partiality. He tried to apply and extend Barthold Niebuhr’s

scientific method of investigation. He introduced the seminar as we know it

and insisted that only contemporary accounts and related materials be used

as sources. He put facts upon pedestals, discredited history as a literary art,

de-humanized history, and set up false idols for Clio. Under Ranke’s

influence, history became less humanistic and the historian ceased to make

moral judgments and became impervious to human values.

The other force, even less tangible and much more subtle, was

“nationalism,” defined as “a state of mind” dictating that “everyone owes

his supreme secular loyalty to the nation-state.” Hans Kohn called it a

psychological phenomenon, adding that nationalism was “an act of

consciousness” that recognized the “nation-state as the ideal form of

political organization” and nationality as the “source of all creative

74 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

cultural energy and economic well-being”9. During the 1890ies the

nationalistic upsurge in the United States endorsed the big-navy policy,

intensified the imperialistic urge, shaped Frederick Jackson Turner’s

concepts and put history into the high school curriculum10. “Nationalism,”

an observant critic once wrote, “is another name for egotism”11. Anyway,

American scholars, unwittingly perhaps, drank deeply from the cup,

glorifying in their country’s past, optimistic about its future, discrediting

rival nations, justifying that which had happened, visualizing Americans as

a superior people, and characterizing their country as “God’s best hope on

earth.” They developed “consensus history”, holding that the views of the

majority were the correct views and that minority views which failed to get

majority approbation were devious and devilish, heretical and heinous.

John C. Calhoun, for example, devised a process called “nullification” as a

means to save the Union and negate the drift toward egocentric sectionalism

and civil war. Nationalist historians presented “nullification” as a system

which would destroy the Union rather than save it, declared “nullification”

as a political heresy, and presented Calhoun as a being having horns, a

forked tail, and cloven hoofs.

Nationalist historians, in endorsing consensus history, discredited

dissenters, i.e., those who opposed majority opinions and the course of

events, as despicables and dastards, men whose hearts were black and

whose minds were blank. They tarred and feathered dissenters of Civil War

days. Democrats who criticized the policies of the Lincoln administration

became known as “Copperheads,” symbolized in the poisonous snake that

struck without warning. Nationalist historians, accepting much Republican

political propaganda as historical fact, pictured Copperheads as traitors,

passed myths about subversive secret societies into the stream of history

(adulterating and polluting it), believed that the upper Midwest was

threatened by plots and conspiracies, and smeared the movement with a

brush dipped in tar. Clement L. Vallandigham, the most famous of the

Copperheads, was the worst of a bad lot, put into the company of Judas

Iscariot and Benedict Arnold, all three deserving a place in infamy.

The apotheosis of Lincoln, begun soon after his assassination, reached its

zenith during the 1890ies. The means of Lincoln’s death, following the

defeat of the Confederacy, tended to transform a mortal man into an

immortal one and cloak his every action, even the unconstitutional and

extra-legal ones, with sanctity. “This murder, this oozing blood,” Count

Adam Gurowski confided to his diary while manning an observation post in

Washington, “. . .opens to him immortality”12.

Nationalism as a force and apotheosis as a process wove a web of myth

and legend about Lincoln. The Horatio Alger story took a new form. Beset

by problems and handicaps and enemies, Lincoln triumphed over all.

Mythmakers embellished upon the real: (1) he was born in a log cabin and

into abject poverty; (2) his mother died when he was a child; (3) his father

was “a shiftless rover;” (4) his “one true love,” Anne Rutledge, died; (5)

the woman he married (Mary Todd) was “a hellcat” and “a millstone

1975]

Klement — History and Humanities

75

around his neck;” (6) he defeated Stephen A. Douglas in the debates; (7) he

walked from a pile of rails to the White House; (8) he was plagued by

incompetent generals, a quarreling Cabinet, conspiratorial-minded Copper¬

heads, dissidents within his own party, and a galvanized South.

Mythmakers have Lincoln composing the “Gettysburg Address” on the

back of an envelope while a jolting and jiggling train rumbles toward

Gettysburg and they perpetuate the legend that the Emancipation

Proclamation freed the slaves. The mythmakers ignore Lord Acton’s

well-worded dictum: “Truth is the only merit that gives dignity and worth

to history”13.

Perhaps a few corrections are in order: (1) Abraham Lincoln was not born

into a family plagued by poverty, but into one far above the average in the

community — his father owned three farms and held a generous measure of

worldly goods; (2) every school child knows that Lincoln split rails, but how

many (including adults who regard themselves as Lincoln experts) know

that he also tended a still? (3) Lincoln, early in his political career, engaged

in “dirty tricks,” planting an anonymous letter (with a mythical dateline)

which was filled with ridicule and insinuation, and implying dishonesty in

the state auditor’s office, into a newspaper edited by a friend; (4) how many

know that Lincoln, as a lawyer, took a case for a slaveowner recovering a

fugitive slave and used his legal acumen to refashion chains and re-enslave a

man seeking freedom? (5) how many know that Lincoln, as a state

legislator, jumped out of a second-story window during a session, in order

to break a quorum and prevent an honest vote upon an issue? (6) how many

know that Lincoln, as a presidential candidate, purchased a newspaper

(somewhat covertly) to advocate his own nomination and election14? (7)

why is it necessary to cloak President Lincoln’s illegal and unconstitutional

acts with mantles of legality and propriety rather than justifying them

upon grounds of expediency and good sense?

Nationalism, penetrating the American psyche, evolved into chauvinism

as the 19th century gave way to the 20th. Stephen Decatur’s famous toast

“Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations may she always be in

the right; but our country right or wrong!” won a place below the masthead

of the Chicago Tribune. Edward Everett Hale’s famous story, The Man

without a Country , became must reading in the schools. And nationalism,

generated by World War I, tainted history writing, seeking to make that

discipline its handmaiden. Well-known history professors of the

department of history at the University of Wisconsin (Madison), took time

out to write political and patriotic propaganda, misrepresenting the truth in

the process. Several, later, repudiated their handiwork and admitted,

shamefacedly, that they had violated the canons of scholarship and had

rendered a disservice to their discipline15.

T. S. Eliot, a keen observer of the human scene, cast criticism in the

direction of Clio’s craft:

76

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

Think now

History has many cunning passages,

contrived corridors

And issues, deceives with whispering

ambitions,

Guides us by vanities16.

Earlier, Thomas Moore had said quite the same thing. In his work “The

Skeptic” we find these lines:

How oft we sigh

When histories charm to think

that histories lie17.

While nationalism continued to affect the writing of 20th century history,

several other forces and factors gave shape to the American mind. Charles

Beard, entranced by economic determinism, brought a different emphasis

to American historical scholarship, and a host of others, many of whom

were disciples of Fabian Socialism, washed and dried his blistered feet.

Sigmund Freud, charting the boundaries of psychoanalysis, filled a well

with insipid and contaminated water, which some biographers and

historians drew forth and proclaimed pure and sweet. Worship of the

golden calf during the 1920ies also affected history and the Humanities

adversely, deepening the strain of anti-intellectualism so prevalent in the

country during the past century. William James and John Dewey,

developing and devising “pragmatism” and “progressive education,”

challenged traditional views of learning and knowledge and tried to

discredit the traditional liberal arts.

Deweyites, as well as technocrats and the masters of capital and industry

scorned “knowledge for knowledge’s sake.” They did not understand that

it is useful to be wise as it is practical to earn a living. Academians

became “egg-heads” and technical schools sprouted like mushrooms. Some

schoolmen promoted the fallacy that training was the same as education,

and the concept of a liberal education reeled before the onslaught from a

dozen directions.

Despite the challenges from a variety of forces, the liberal arts flourished

during the 1940ies and 1950ies. In fact, the Humanities, along with higher

education, enjoyed a golden era. Historians re-defined their role in the halls

of learning. Most rejected the so-called “scientific history” borrowed from

Germany and they discarded the precept that the historian was a neutral

observer who stood outside of the history he was describing or writing. The

historian again accepted his role as a moral critic and stressed once more the

importance of individual personality in the making of historical decisions,

emphasizing contingency and chance. He became a humanist concerned

with metaphysical and theological aspects of an age. Arnold Toynbee set

the pace, exemplifying the new history and rejecting the “scientific history”

which said that an era was entrapped by an amoral society and a neutral

universe. Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., writing about the coming of the

1975]

Klement— History and Humanities

77

American Civil War, told us that causes and crusades were ennobling and

that they gave dignity to man18.

But Vietnam, both as an anti-Communist crusade and a policy,

degenerated into a fiasco and a dilemma. The young, seeing many of their

generation becoming victims of Vietnam, took the lead in challenging old

values and old practices, and the 1960ies ushered in an era of change

reminiscent of the 1830ies. A wave of social consciousness enveloped the

nation. Egalitarianism became a religion, with activities challenging the old

institutions and practices and norms.

The restless 1960ies posed some special problems for historians. Radicals,

recognizing that tradition and devotion to the past negated change, put

history on a contrived “enemies list.” They saw history as upholding the

old, bolstering the institutions some wanted to tear down. They imagined

that the Humanities and the liberal arts had failed society, and they talked

of relevancy and immediacy and existentialism. Masters of inconsistency,

they repeated historical statements to downgrade history. They relished the

comment made by Henry Ford (for whom they had naught but contempt)

when he said “History is more or less bunk”19. They repeated the

characterization of history by Augustine Birrell, writing about Thomas

Carlyle, when the English essayist spoke of that “great dustheap called

‘history’”20. They liked Voltaire’s statement: “History is little more than a

picture of human crimes and misfortunes”21 and the similar words of

Edward Gibbon when he said that history was “indeed little more than the

register of the crimes, the follies, and the misfortunes of mankind”22. Their

favorite, however, was a quotation of Paul Valeiy, a French poet and critic:

“History is the most dangerous prodjct evolved from the chemistry of the

intellect. . .History will justify anything. It teaches precisely nothing, for it

contains everything and furnishes examples for everything”23.

These radicals selected and distorted, like Hitler in his own day. And

naturally they ignored the advice of sages. They turned their backs upon

Santayana’s aphorism that nations and people who did not know their past

were destined to repeat their mistakes24. They could not accept a comment

made by Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., a jurist who possessed a social

conscience — Holmes said, “. . .a page of history is worth a volume of

logic”25. Nor did they have any respect for Sir Walter Scott, who put up a

signpost for the floundering prelaw student: “A lawyer without history or

literature is a mechanic, a mere working mason; if he possesses some

knowledge of these, he may venture to call himself an architect”26.

The excesses of the radicals of the 1960ies discredited their cause.

Students who had participated in campus riots and violence excused their

conduct as “the indiscretions of youth.” A tone of sensibility and saneness

is now returning to the campuses. The Humanities and liberal arts are being

rediscovered and are regaining respectability. Relevancy as a term of

approbation has lost its charm. Sensible folk are again emphasizing that

man possessed an intellect and a spirit as well as a body, and that, while

mammon feeds the body, the Humanities nurture the mind, attaching fibers

7 8 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

of dignity and humanity to it. “Man cannot live by bread alone.”

Self-restraint will again become a virtue and the cultivation of personal

knowledge and dignity will again be regarded as desirable. The Humanities,

with history tagging along, will again regain the prestige which once was

theirs. A man is free only if he removes the shackles which make him a slave

to the mundane, if he respects the lasting human values, and if he cultivates

the attributes which make him a distinctive, intelligent creature. Man, as a

mortal being, does not reside with the angels, but neither does he belong

with the swine in the pigpen.

Science does not hold all of the answers for mankind. George Santayana

gave men excellent advice in a poem entitled “O World Thou Choosest

Not:”

O World, thou choosest not the better part!

It is not wisdom to be only wise,

And on the inward vision close the eyes,

But it is wisdom to believe the heart.

Columbus found a world, and had no chart,

Save one that faith deciphered in the skies;

To trust the soul’s invincible surmise

Was all his science and his only art27.

As the unsure 1970ies leave the restless and rebellious 1960ies behind,

three groups of historians woo Clio, seeking her favor and trying to seduce

her. One group represents the quantitative historians who tell Clio that

history is a numbers game. Some quantifiers have opened up new avenues

for research; others have become slaves of statistics and they have made

history sterile — see Edward Pessen’s book, Riches , Class , and Power before

the Civil War , a graceless compilation of charts and tables interlaced with

dull generalizations28.

The second group consists of those who believe that psychology holds the

key to the explanation of the actions of individuals or groups29. These

historians are entranced with words like “ego,” “repression,” “mother-

figure,” and “psychic trauma.” They speak of psychobiography and

psychohistory and hold up Erik Erikson’s study of Martin Luther as a

model30.

The third group, self-styled “the New Left,” consists of historians

addicted to socialism. They see competitive capitalism as the root of all evil,

regard the American foreign policy as imperialistic and Russia’s policy as

simply the reaction to America’s, and hold that liberalism is a false and

outdated ideology31.

But if Clio were wise— and I believe she is — she will not listen to the

blandishments of those who would lead her out of the garden and into the

woods. For in the garden the flowers bloom, the bees seek honey, the

hummingbird wings gracefully, the mockingbird gives its recital of song, the

dewdrops turn silvery in the morning sun, and the sweet and mystical

fragrance of roses fills the air. Clio will tell her would-be seducers that

1975]

Klement — History and Humanities

79

history belongs with the Humanities and that the Humanities have the

responsibility of making men humane — they are expected to practice

civility, courtesy, politeness, humility, and good behavior. Education

should produce human beings who think and feel deeply and who can take

flights of imagination outside the world of reality and into untold realms of

beauty. It should produce persons who treat others with compassion,

consideration, and justice. Society should not train people to be lawyers,

doctors, teachers, clergymen, or businessmen, but it should educate so that

those who follow the professions are real persons, i.e. , personalities who are

lovable and humane and who make their living through the professions or

business. The more hatred and intolerance and injustice we find — the more

inhuman men become — the greater the need for the Humanities.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The author hereby expresses his thanks to Miss Helen Wanken, a graduate student and

research assistant in the History Department, Marquette University. Miss Wanken provided

nearly every one of the footnotes, corrected errors in the quotations, substantiated some of the

generalizations through further research, and helped transform a general paper into a scholarly

one.

NOTATIONS

1 . The trivium included grammar, logic, and rhetoric whereas the four sciences (geometry,

astronomy, arithmetic and music) constituted a three-year program. Together they made up the

seven liberal arts.

2. Otto Allen Bird, “Humanities,” Encyclopedia Britannica : Macropaidia (15th edition,

Chicago, 1974), VIII, 1180.

3. Cicero, DeOratore, Book II, Section 36. (translated by E. W. Sutton, Cambridge: Harvard

University Press, 1942.)

4. Ibid., Section 62.

5. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, The Philosophy of History, translator, J. Sibree (New

York: Wiley Book Company, 1944), p. 6.

6. H. G. Wells, The Outline of History, II (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1920), p.

572.

7. Stated in a speech (defending Neville Chamberlain) in the House of Commons on

November 12, 1940.

8. Willa Gather, O Pioneers, (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1937), pp. 56-57.

9. Hans Kohn, The Idea of Nationalism: A Study of Its Origins and Background (New York:

The Macmillan Company, 1944), p. 16.

10. Nationalism of the 1890ies also underwrote the nativistic movement of the era, helped

bring the world’s fair of 1892-93 into being, and fastened the melting pot theory to American

life. Israel Zangwill wrote his famous book, The Melting Pot, in 1914.

11. Anglomane, “Bull and Nongtongpaw,” Fraser's Magazine 30 (October 1844): 418.

12. Gurowski, Diary . . . from March 4, 1861, to November 10, 1865 (3 vols., Washington,

1862-1866), 3: 398.

13. John Emerich Edward Dalberg- Acton, The History of Freedom and Other Essays

(London: Macmillan and Company, 1907), p. 149.

14. The paper was the Illinois Staats-Anzeiger (Springfield). He bought it on May 30, 1859 and

sold it back to the original owner shortly before his inauguration.

15. University of Wisconsin Faculty, War Book of the University of Wisconsin: Papers on the

Causes and Issues of the War (Madison: University of Wisconsin, 1918). Merle Curti and

Vernon Cars ten son, The University of Wisconsin, 2 vols., (Madison: University of Wisconsin

80

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

Press, 1949), II, p. 1 19 merely says “the historians made their contributions to the propaganda

campaign.’’ In effect, the co-authors sweep an important affair under the rug.

16. T. S. Eliot, “Gerontion,” The Complete Poems and Plays: 1909-1950 (New York:

Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., 1958), p. 22.

17. Thomas Moore, “The Sceptic,” The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, A. D. Godley, ed.

(London: Oxford University Press, 1924), p. 144.

18. Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr. “The Causes of the Civil War: A Note on Historical Sentimen¬

talism,” The Partisan Review 16 (October 1949): 969-981.

19. Charles N. Wheeler, who interviewed Henry Ford, incorporated the quotation in an article

published in the Chicago Tribune, May 25, 1916.

20. Augustine Birrell, Obiter Dicta, First Series (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1915), p.

10.

21. Francois Marie Arouet de Voltaire, L’lngenu and Histoire de Jenni, J. H. Brumfittand M.

I. Gerard Davis, eds. (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1960), p. 29.

22. Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 2 vols., (New York: The

Modern Library, N.D.), I: 69.

23. Paul Valery as cited in Ferenc M. Szasz, “The Meanings of History,” The Historian 30

(February 1968): 242.

24. George Santayana, The Life of Reason: Vol. I: Introduction and Reason in Common

Sense (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1924), p. 284. The exact citation is “Those who

cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

25. Holmes, in New York Trust Co. v. Eisner, 256 U.S. 345, 349 (1925).

26. Sir Walter Scott, Guy Mannering, 2 vols. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1912), II:

75.

27. George Santayana, “Sonnet III,” Poems (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1923), p. 5.

28. Edward Pessen, Riches, Class, and Power Before the Civil War (Lexington,

Massachusetts: D. C. Heath, 1973).

29. Jacques Barzun discredits advocates of quantitative history and psycho-history in an

interesting and well-written book, Clio and the Doctors: Psycho-History, Quanto-History and

History (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1974). Barzun believes that efforts to transform

history into a social science result from the historians’ wishes to overcome the uncertainty of the

discipline. He states that “the desire to understand is undone by the rival desire to quell uncer¬

tainty through reductive ideas.” One reviewer (Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.) wrote, “Every student

of history will wish to read Jacques Barzun’s brilliant defense of the humanity of history against

the reductionism of the new historical technologies.”

30. Erick Erikson, Young Man Luther: A Study in Psychoanalysis and History (New York:

Norton, 1958).

31. See, for instance, Barton J. Bernstein, ed., Politics and Policies of the Truman

Administration, (Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 1972).

THE AMERICAN CHESTNUT IN WISCONSIN

Craig D. Tiedemann

and

Edward R. Hasselkus

University Wisconsin —

Madison

INTRODUCTION

The American chestnut, Castanea dentata (Marsh.) Borkh., was one of

the most economically and ecologically important tree species in the eastern

United States in 1900. The species was most abundant in the southern

Appalachian mountains, where it comprised about 25 per cent of the forest

stand on some 33 million acres.

However, 50 years later the American chestnut was practically extinct

within its native range. One of the most virulent and destructive plant

diseases ever known, chestnut blight, destroyed the equivalent of over 9

million acres of pure American chestnut after the blight was introduced

from Asia around the turn of the century (U.S.D.A., 1964).

Wisconsin lies completely outside the native range of chestnut. Settlers

from the eastern states established American chestnut trees here in the mid

to late 1800ies. So far, these isolated trees and their progeny have escaped

infection by the blight. They constitute a significant portion of the

genetically pure American chestnuts left in the world.

TAXONOMY

The genus Castanea is associated with the oaks ( Quercus ) and beeches

( Fagus ) in the family Fagaceae.

Castanea consists of 12 or 14 species in 3 sections, all native to the

northern hemisphere. Castanea dentata belongs to section Castanea, along

with C. sativa Mill., European chestnut; C. mollissima BL, Chinese

chestnut and C. crenata Sieb, and Zucc., Japanese chestnut. Members of

section Castanea produce 3 nuts per bur. The chinkapin species of the

southeastern United States comprise section Balanocastanon. Members of

this section produce 1 nut per bur (Elias, 1971).

All of the Castanea species so far investigated, including C. dentata and

all species mentioned above, have a chromosome number of 2n = 24

(Jaynes, 1962).

81

82 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

DESCRIPTION

In the southern Appalachians, American chestnuts were fast growing,

and often attained heights of 60 to 90 ft with trunk diameters of 3 to 5 ft at

4.5 ft from the ground (Saucier, 1973). The leaves are lance-shaped with

coarse teeth that point forward toward the narrow, pointed tip. The bark on

the trunk and larger limbs is dark brown and shallowly fissured, with flat

ridges.

Forest-grown trees are tall and very upright with few or no branches near

the ground. Open-grown American chestnuts have a round to upright oval

growth habit. Chestnuts sprout prolifically near the base, and open-grown

trees may as a result be multi-trunked. Chestnut stumps also resprout

vigorously. A forest-grown tree with 4 large trunks arising from a single old

stump is present in Bayfield county.

American chestnut heartwood is grayish brown or brown and resembles

that of oak. It is moderately light in weight, easily worked and glued, and is

very decay-resistant, equaling bald cypress and redwood in this last respect.

Chestnut wood contains 6 to 10% tannin and both it and the bark were

important tannin sources. Other uses include pulp, lumber, utility poles,

rail ties, fenceposts, mine timbers, shingles, barrel staves and fuel (Saucier,

1973).

Chestnuts begin blooming when fairly young. Four to 6 year old saplings

often flower when grown under good conditions (Jaynes, 1969). Unisexual

flowers of both sexes are present on the monoecious plants. The flowers are

borne in stiff catkins arising from the leaf axils. The catkins in the lower

leaf axils mature first. These are wholly staminate, about 4 to 8 in long, and

are creamy white with a sickly sweet odor. Blooming dates of individual

plants vary, but the staminate catkins usually mature during the first week

of July in southern Wisconsin. Female flowers occur in clusters of 3 inside a

prickly green involucre. One or more of these clusters is borne near the base

of a shorter, bisexual catkin. The bisexual catkins are uppermost on the

shoot, and so mature about a week later than the staminate catkins. Jaynes

(1969) suggested that chestnuts are both wind and insect pollinated.

All Castanea species and hybrids require cross-pollination to produce

viable nuts. Trees must be planted within 200 feet of one another to ensure

pollen transfer. A scion from a different chestnut tree grafted onto an

isolated plant can serve as a pollen source (Jaynes, 1969). Following

pollination of 1 or more of its female flowers, the involucre develops into a

protective, globular bur 2 to 2.5 in. in diameter and densely covered with

sharp branched spines (Fig. 1).

The bur splits open along 4 lines when it matures in early October,

exposing 1 to 3 nuts. The brown nuts are about 1 in long and 0.75 in wide,

and range in weight from 75 to 150 nuts per pound (Jaynes, 1969). The

kernels are sweet and edible after roasting or boiling. They are starchy

rather than oily, and contain 40 to 45% carbohydrates, 5% oil and 50%

water, when fresh (Jaynes, 1969).

1975]

Tiedemann and Hasselkus — Chestnut in Wisconsin

83

FIGURE la Bark character of American chestnut. Note basal sprouts. (Dane County)

84

Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [ Vol . 63

lb Flowering catkins of American chestnut. (July 4, 1973 Trempealeau County)

lc Mature chestnut burs with nuts (October 6, 1973, Trempealeau County)

1975]

Tiedemann and Hasselkus — Chestnut in Wisconsin

85

PROPAGATION

American chestnut is easily propagated from seed, if the seed is stratified,

as soon as it is ripe, with an equal volume of barely damp sphagnum moss,

peatmoss, sawdust or sand in polyethylene bags or ventilated cans at 32 to

40F. The nuts begin to desiccate and die if stored dry at room temperature

for more than a few days. Stratified chestnuts begin germinating after about

3 months. When the nuts begin to sprout, they should be planted or the

storage temperature lowered to slightly below 32 F. Plant the sprouting nuts

at depth of an inch or less. Germination is hypogeous. The nuts may be

sown directly outdoors in the fall at a depth of 1 in, where the cold winter

temperatures will substitute for artificial stratification (U.S.D.A., 1948).

No inexpensive method of asexual chestnut propagation has been

developed. Air layering, budding and hardwood cuttings are all

unsatisfactory (Jaynes, 1969). American chestnut is readily grafted,

although the graft union between a scion and stock of different Castanea

species often fails after 1 to 5 years (Jaynes, 1974). Moore (1963) and Jaynes

(1965, 1967) have both reported on the use of the nut graft in chestnut

propagation.

Stooling is used to propagate own-root plants of European chestnut

cultivars in France (Jaynes, 1969), while recent research indicates that

juvenile chestnut cuttings treated with high auxin concentrations can be

rooted under mist (Jaynes, 1974).

Rabbits and rodents relish chestnut seeds and seedlings; thus they require

wire protection for several years. Chestnuts develop a strong taproot and

are difficult to transplant when more than 2 years old, unless they have been

root pruned.

CULTURAL REQUIREMENTS

American chestnut is intermediate in shade tolerance, along with white,

red and black oak (Baker, 1949). Cain (1931) noted that American chestnut

occurred on acid soils, from pH 4.6 to 5.3, in the Great Smoky mountains.

No symptoms of iron chlorosis, associated with acid soil-requiring plants

that are grown in neutral or alkaline soils, have been observed on American

chestnuts growing in Wisconsin. American chestnuts tolerate a wide variety

of well drained soils. Light, sandy soils provide better drainage than heavier

clay soils. An ideal site for American chestnuts is a sunny, well drained

hillside with sandy loam soil (Wyman, 1971).

DISEASES AND PESTS

Chestnut blight is the most serious disease of American chestnut. Diller

(1965) and Beattie and Diller (1954) gave excellent accounts of this disease

and its history in the United States.

86 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

The fungus that causes chestnut blight, Endothia parasitica (Murr.)

A.&A., is indigenous to China, Korea and Japan. It was introduced into the

United States on infected Asiatic chestnut nursery stock sometime before

1904, when blighted American chestnuts were first noticed in the New York

Zoological Park. There was no plant quarantine law prior to 1912, or the

diseased Asian plants might have been discovered and destroyed. Chestnut

blight spread through the native range of American chestnut at the rate of

about 20 miles a year, and reached the last stronghold of native American

chestnuts, the southern Appalachians, by the early 1950ies. A few American

chestnuts still survive at high elevations in the Great Smoky mountains,

apparently because the blight organism is poorly adapted to the conditions

there (Price, 1973).

The blight fungus invades a chestnut stem through wounds and kills the

phloem and cambium, producing a swollen or sunken canker. The canker

enlarges until it girdles the stem and kills the portion above the canker.

Watersprouts often develop below the canker. The blight reinfects the stems

repeatedly until the tree is killed to the ground.

American chestnut is the least blight-resistant Castanea species, followed

by European chestnut and the chinkapin species. Chinese chestnut is the

most blight-resistant species, followed by Japanese chestnut. Other

blight-susceptible plants growing in the United States include golden

chinkapin, Castanopsis chrysophylla (Hook.) DC. (Hepting, 1971); post

oak, Quercus stellata Wangenh. (Clapper et al., 1946); live oak, Q.

virginiana Mill. (Peacher, 1969) and, probably, pin oak, Q. palustris

Muenchh, (Stipes and Phipps, 1971). The blight fungus also occurs on

maple, hickory and sumac, but causes little or no damage to these species

(Diller, 1965).

The root bark of American chestnut is highly resistant to blight infection,

even after inoculation (Graves, 1926). Thus the root system remains alive

and capable of sprouting for years after the trunk has been killed. Sprouts

are still occasionally found within the native range of American chestnut,

and may remain alive long enough to produce a few nuts before they

contract the blight and die. These sprouts plus the chinkapins, cultivated

oriental chestnuts and blight-susceptible oaks all serve as hosts for Endothia

parasitica and provide for the continuing production of chestnut blight

inoculum in the eastern United States.

A few large American chestnuts have been found that are blighted but

alive and appear to resist the disease. Some of these are being used in the

breeding programs of the University of Tennessee (Thor, 1973) and of the

National Parks and Conservation Association (Sayers, 1974).

Castanea dentata has been crossed with C. mollissima , C. crenata and

several other Castanea species in the breeding programs of the United States

Department of Agriculture and the Connecticut Agricultural Experiment

Station in attempts to develop a blight-resistant, timber type chestnut

adapted to eastern United States forests. The Connecticut program is still

1975] Tiedemann and Hasselkus— Chestnut in Wisconsin 87

in operation, headed by R. A. Jaynes. Both programs have developed

promising hybrid cultivars, but the difficulty of asexual propagation has

limited their use in reforestation.

The fungicide benomyl inhibits the growth of Endothia parasitica in

chestnut trees, when applied as a soil drench (Jaynes and Anagnostalsis,

1971) or pressure injected into the trunk (Jaynes, 1974). Inoculation

experiments have demonstrated that American chestnut is susceptible to

oak wilt, a disease caused by the fungus Ceratocystis fagacearum (Hepting,

1971). American chestnut is also subject to root crown canker, caused by

the soil-borne fungus, Phytophthora cinnamomi. Conditions favoring

Phytophthora attack include a high water table and heavy soil (Jaynes,

1969). American chestnut is not subject to any serious leaf diseases.

Major chestnut pests include several species of weevils whose larvae infest

and destroy the nuts, and the bicolor and two spotted mites, which attack

the leaves (Jaynes, 1969).

WISCONSIN AMERICAN CHESTNUTS

The oldest published report of American chestnuts in the state (Trans.

Wis. Agr. Soc., 1858-1859) tells of an exhibition of chestnut burs by Jacob

Lowe of Loweville in Columbia county that won a prize from the State

Agricultural Society. The burs were from 8 year old, 16.5 ft seedlings in his

garden, said to be the first grown in the state. The report also mentions that

American chestnuts grow rapidly and might be valuable to plant for fencing

timber. Lapham et al. (1867) mentioned that American chestnuts had been

planted and were producing nuts in Wisconsin. He recommended that more

be planted for their valuable nuts, which commanded the highest price of

any nut, $9 or 10 per bushel in New York City. Lapham also encouraged the

planting of American chestnuts because they are adapted to poor, sandy or

gravelly soils, are fast growing and provide fine, rot-resistant wood.

Mature American chestnut trees occur in several states besides Wisconsin,

including Illinois, Iowa, Michigan, Missouri, California, Oregon and

Washington (Fig. 2). None of the surviving American chestnuts outside its

natural range are regarded as being blight-resistant, but rather as having

escaped infection (Diller and Clapper, 1965).

The isolation of the scattered Wisconsin chestnuts, the historical lack of

other blight-susceptible plants in the state and the prevailing westerly winds

are natural barriers to the entry of chestnut blight into Wisconsin.

However, there is a continuing danger that the gap between the Wisconsin

chestnuts and the blight area to the east could be bridged. For this reason

the seedling distribution project undertaken by the Wisconsin Conservation

Department from 1942 to 1944 was discontinued. The project was begun by

William Brener, the former Superintendent of the Griffith State Nursery at

Wisconsin Rapids, after he discovered the large grove of American

chestnuts in Trempealeau county. The Trempealeau county grove was the

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

FIGURE 2 Nautral distribution of American chestnut in the United States and Canada (after

Saucier, 1973)

sole seed source for the project (Brener, 1974). A total of 51,000 seedlings

were distributed during the 3 years of the project (Brener, 1953). Wakelin

McNeel of the Wisconsin College of Agriculture, who was known as

“Ranger Mac” on his radio programs, was very active in distributing

chestnut seedlings to high school agriculture instructors and county

extension agents. The fate of most of these chestnut seedlings is unknown,

1975] Tiedemann and Hasselkus— Chestnut in Wisconsin 89

but it may be assumed that those that were not protected from rabbits and

rodents had a high mortality rate.

The chestnut distribution project was discontinued when Brener learned

of the possibility that an increased American chestnut population could

make it easier for the blight to gain a foothold in and spread through

Wisconsin.

The largest American chestnut tree in Wisconsin is located in the largest

chestnut grove in the state on the Einar Lunde farm in Trempealeau county.

It is 11 ft in circumference at breast height (4.5 ft above ground), 67 ft tall

and has a spread of 55 ft. The Wisconsin record tree was formerly the

national champion as well (Scott, 1960), but has now been superseded by an

American chestnut in Oregon City, Oregon that is 15 ft 8 in in

circumference at breast height, 90 feet tall and has a spread of 64 feet

(Pomeroy and Dixon, 1966).

At the northernmost margin of its natural range in New York state and

New England (Saucier, 1973), American chestnut occurred in areas included

in the United States Department of Agriculture’s plant hardiness zone 4, in

which average minimum winter temperatures are -30 to -20 F (U.S.D.A.,

1960). A healthy American chestnut with no apparent winter injury is

growing in Spooner, Wisconsin, a locality included in U.S.D.A. plant

hardiness zone 3, where average minimum temperatures range from -40 to

■=30 F (Fig. 3).

American chestnuts grow rapidly in Wisconsin. A closely spaced pair of

20 year old chestnuts growing in full sun at 1721 Hickory Drive, Madison*

were 2 ft 1 in and 1 ft 1 1 in, respectively, in circumference at breast height

and both were 25 ft tall. As the 2 trees were planted only about 2 ft apart,

some mutual stunting may have occurred. The 2 chestnuts at the Wisconsin

Dells Ranger Station, growing in full sun and transplanted once as

seedlings, were approximately 20 years old when they were measured. Low

crotches hindered accurate measurement of their circumferences at breast

height, but this measurement was approximately 2 ft in both cases. They

i were both about 25 ft tall, with spreads of about 23 ft.

LOCATIONS OF WISCONSIN CHESTNUTS

Key to abbreviations: cbh: circumference at breast height (4.5 ft from ground)

h: height

s: spread

ADAMS COUNTY

Birchcliff Resort: 0.5 mi N. of Wisconsin Dells on River Road, SW !4 sec. 34, T-14-N, R-6-E

-1 large tree about 150 yd S-SW of Loomis house: 2 trunks, one 7’8”, the other 5’9” cbh; 50’ h;

46’ s

*W. E. Scott residence

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

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FIGURE 3 Distribution of American chestnut trees and groves in Wisconsin, with plant

hardiness zones (after U.S.D.A. 1960) Zone 3 -40 to -30 F; Zone 4 -30 to -20 F; Zone 5

-20 to -10 F

-9 fruiting trees plus seedlings and saplings near large tree: largest is 5’ cbh

-4 fruiting trees near Loomis house: largest is 5 ’6” cbh

-2 fruiting trees N of pool: largest is 4’1L’J cbh

-Measured July 2 and 28, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

According to Damon Loomis, the former owner of the resort who still owns most of the chest¬

nuts, there were 2 trees present on the property when his father purchased it in 1916. One of the

original trees is still present; the other died recently, probably as a result of lightning because a

crack is present along the length of the trunk. Damon planted the trees near the pool and house

after digging them as seedlings from around the original 2 trees. Leo Sims of Middleton,

Wisconsin, is the present owner of the resort.

1975]

Tiedemann and Hasselkus— Chestnut in Wisconsin

91

BAYFIELD COUNTY

Springhill Orchard: 1 mi W of Hwy. 13 on Hwy. J, S Va sec. 15, T-50-N, R-4-W

-1 large, 4-trunked tree in woods 100 yds. NE of house: 3’6”, 2’, 3’8.5”, 3’4” cbh; 55’ h

-10 seedlings and saplings 25 yd SE of large tree

-9 fruiting trees along gully E of house: largest is 3 ’2” cbh; 35’ h

-Measured August 17, 1974, by Craig Tiedemann

According to owner Ralph Mueller, the property was first purchased by people named Ritten-

hause who came from New Jersey in the 1800ies, but nothing is known of the origin of the

chestnuts.

The stump from which the multiple-trunked tree arises was assumed to have been left after a

logging operation about 45 or 50 years ago removed the parent tree (Volavka and Muhvich,

1971).

COLUMBIA COUNTY

Wisconsin Dells Ranger Station: River Road, Wisconsin Dells, sec. 3, T-13-N, R-6-E

-2 trees, one 1 ’10” cbh; 26’ h; 23.5’ s and the other 2’ cbh; 25’ h; 23’ s

-Measured July 28, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

According to a ranger at the station, the trees were planted about 16 years ago as 3 to 5 year old

seedlings obtained from the Birchcliff Resort in Adams County.

DANE COUNTY

Longenecker Horticultural Gardens: University Wisconsin Arboretum-Madison

-arboretum nursery: 2 trees, one in E belt II, row 2 is 1’ cbh; 15’ h; 15’ s and fruiting heavily;

the other one in E belt II, row 5 is smaller and not fruiting

-Longenecker Gardens, NE section: 4 trees, the largest is 8.5” cbh; 15’ h; 8’ s

-Measured August 15,1 974, by Craig Tiedemann

H. D. Tiemann, a former Forest Products Laboratory Director, presented these chestnuts to

the UW-Madison arboretum (date unknown).

826 Minakwa Drive, Madison

-5 closely spaced trees along Briarhill Road: the largest is 3 ’4” cbh, and all bear fruit

-Measured October, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

According to Mrs. Cora Schlinkert, the owner of the property, a contractor named Leland

Bancroft planted the trees at about the time he built the house, which was approximately 25 years

ago.

92 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

600 Chapman Street, Madison

-1 small sapling in curb strip

October 14, 1974, by Craig Tiedemann

Dean E. A. Gaumnitz: 5114 Milward Drive, Madison

-2 bearing age trees: one 3’7” cbh, 45’ h. 24’ s; the other 1’6” cbh, 22’ h

November 23, 1974, by Craig Tiedemann

The largest tree was present when the property was purchased in 1956, according to Mr.

Gaumnitz. A man named Dietz owned the property before 1956.

Walter Scott: 1721 Hickory Drive, Madison

-2 trees spaced 2’ apart: one 2’1” cbh, and the other I’ll” cbh; both 25’ h; 20’ s; both fruit

heavily

-Measured September 15, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

According to Walter Scott, these trees were planted in mid-April, 1954, and the seeds were

obtained from the Lunde farm in Trempealeau County.

311 Few Street, Madison

-1 tree: 4’ cbh

-Measured October 12, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

Property is owned by Bob Hamilton, Middleton.

Nevin Fish Hatchery: Fish Hatchery Road, S of Madison

-1 tree: 10’ h

-Measured April 10, 1974, by Craig Tiedemann

Mark T. Purcell: 3210 Nottingham Way, Arbor Hills

1975]

Tiedemann and Hasselkus — Chestnut in Wisconsin

93

-1 tree? 6-7” diameter

Tree existed in fenceline when property was purchased 15 years ago.

(Schreder, 1970)

Phil Smith property: Rutland Twp. sec. 29, T-5-N, R-10-E

-1 tree: 2-2.5” caliper

1970 by Phil Smith (Schreder, 1970)

Lake Kegonsa State Park: NW lA sec. 20, T-6-N, R-ll-E

-1 tree: 8’5” cbh

-Measured July 7, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

Chestnut is at the north edge of the woods across the railroad tracks where Pattison Road

makes a sharp bend, just north of the Yahara River.

FOREST COUNTY

Yard: 0.5 mi S of Pickerel Lake, SW14 sec. 32, T-34-N, R-13-E

-1 tree: 25’ h

M. Nee, August 8, 1971 (UW-Madison herbarium)

GRANT COUNTY

Glenhaven

-1 tree: 9’1” cbh

Measured June 13, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

Tree located on the hillside about 40 yds behind postmaster Floyd Fralick’s house on the N

side of Hwy. V

Harmon Bunt farm: Millville Twp. SW lA sec. 5, T-6-N, R-5-W

-number and size unknown

Herbarium specimen (UW-Madison) collected by L. J. Musselman, May 21 , 1968

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

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GREEN LAKE COUNTY

American Baptist Assembly Grounds: 2 mi W of Green Lake on Hwy, 23

-11 fruiting trees at sharp bend on Aisle of Pines, SW !4 sec. 25, T-16-N, R-12-E: largest is

4’6.5” cbh

-14 fruiting trees in 3 rows E of Lovers’ Lane and S of an open field, NW Vi sec. 30, T-16-N,

R-13-E: largest is 4’ 11” cbh

-Schreder (1970) reported finding 3 trees near the log house and 1 tree near the intersec¬

tion of Circle Drive and Broad Highway, but they could not be located

Measured November 21, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

According to Dr. J. E. Dollar, resident director, the chestnuts were introduced by Mrs. Victor

Lawson, the wife of the original owner of the estate, about 1910 (Schreder, 1970).

KENOSHA COUNTY

Richard Lindl residence: Petrifying Springs Park Sec. 11, T-2-N, R-22-E

-12 small trees

(Schreder, 1970)

Trees planted in 1962 from seeds obtained at the Lunde farm in Trempealeau County.

LAFAYETTE COUNTY

Raymond L. Sweeney residence: South Wayne

-1 tree: size unknown

According to Mr. Sweeney, the tree was planted in 1 968 from a seed obtained from a chestnut

tree near Lena, Illinois.

MARQUETTE COUNTY

Front yard of residence: 1 or 2 blocks E of Hwy. 23-22 junction on Hwy. 23, Montello

-1 tree: size unknown

-Confirmed 1974 byE. R. Hasselkus

Tony Zelencik property: Town of Springfield Sec. 22, T-17-N, R-8-E

-1 tree: size unknown

-Confirmed 1960 byE. L. Vinton (Schreder, 1970)

1975]

Tiedemann and Hasselkus— Chestnut in Wisconsin

95

OUTAGAMIE COUNTY

Carl Wettengel cottage: On Hwy. T about 0.5 mi S of Hwy. 45 NW !4 sec. 34, T-22-N, R-15-E

-3 trees in the NW section of the pine plantation behind the cottage: largest is 3 ’0.5” cbh

According to the chestnut distribution records kept by the Griffith State Nursery, 325

seedlings were sold to Mrs. George R. Wettengejirrfhe spring of 1943. These trees are apparently

all that remain.

PIERCE COUNTY

Courthouse grounds: Ellsworth

-1 tree: 53” cbh

Measured 1959 by forester Eugene P. Ruetz

SAUK COUNTY

Edward Nisham residence: 226 N Pine Street, Reedsburg

-1 tree: 6’9.5” cbh

According to Mrs. Nisham, the tree may have been brought from New Hampshire or

Vermont. It is in a state of decline.

Simon Dischler farm: Sumpter Twp. SE XA sec. 6, T-10-N, R-6-E

-5 large trees in woods on steep hillside S of the house, about 30 yards from the base of the hill:

the largest 3 are 84.5”, 69.5” and 65” cbh

(Schreder, 1970)

The trees reportedly were planted around 1900 by a member of the Abbott family, the original

owners of the farm (Schreder, 1970).

River Valley School Forest - Spring Green Unit: 1 mi N of Wisconsin River on Hwy, 23, Between

sec. 18 and sec. 19, T-8-N, R-3-E

-31 trees in a row spaced 7’ to 10’ apart along the S edge of a pine plantation; a few seedlings

present also: largest is 3’ 11” cbh, 40’ h, 30’ s

-Measured June 13, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

Most of the trees are multi-trunked. The chestnuts are growing on the well-drained brink of a

sandy bank, only a few yards from silver maples, river birches and other river bottom trees.

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

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SHAWANO COUNTY

Hayman Falls County Park: Pella Twp. Sec. 7, T-26-N, R-14-E

-1 small sapling

Planted in June 1970, by Larry M. Fenton, Shawano.

TREMPEALEAU COUNTY

Einar Lunde farm: 3 mi E of Trempealeau, Caledonia Twp. NW!4 sec. 29, T-18-N, R-8-W

-26 large trees in an E-W row behind the house, along with several hundred seedlings, saplings

and young trees: the largest is the state record American chestnut and is IT cbh, 67’ h and

55’ s, the second largest is 11’ 6.5” cbh, 49’ h, 46’ s

Measured July 4, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

According to the Tremealeau County Register of Deeds, a land grant was issued to Bestwick

Beardsley in 1854 for the farm on which the chestnuts grow. According to Albert G. Johnson of

the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum who talked to the late O. E. Beardsley, a former owner of

the farm, in the early 1940’s, the trees were brought from New York and planted in the 1880ies

(West, 1974). Lunde purchased the farm in 1952. He has encouraged the natural reproduction of

the trees, and set out some young chestnuts in rows. Lunde is able to sell all the nuts he can

gather, mostly to chestnut breeding programs in the eastern states. Many of the older chestnuts

are in a state of decline.

VERNON COUNTY

Brick house and barn: W side of Hwy, 14-61, just S of LaCrosse County, Hamburg Twp.

NW'/4 sec. 3, T-14-N, R-6-W

-1 live chestnut: 7’8.5” cbh, 48’ h

-2 dead chestnuts; Schreder reported dead in 1970

Measured September 7 , 1 973 , by Craig Tiedemann

Formerly the Koethe Nursery and later the Northwood Nursery; now a private residence.

WALWORTH COUNTY

Near Main and Cass Streets: Whitewater

-1 tree: 75” cbh, 60’ h and 30’ s

Measured by Dr. Andrew I. Rosenberger in 1941

Observed to be in a state of decline in November, 1974, by E. R. Hasselkus (probably due to

placement of pavement over the root zone of the tree).

WASHBURN COUNTY

214 Elm Street, Spooner

1975]

Tiedemann and Hasselkus— Chestnut in Wisconsin

91

-1 tree: 3*2.5** cbh

Measured July 4, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

The only American chestnut in Wisconsin known to be growing in U.S.D.A. plant hardiness

zone 3, in which minimum winter temperatures reach -30 to -40F (U.S.D.A., 1960). The tree was

healthy with no signs of winter injury, and was blooming well. Planted by the late Bessie

Nelson, the former owner of the property on which the tree stands.

WAUKESHA COUNTY

Albert Johnson property S 4195 Big Bend Road Waukesha, E lA sec 23, T-6-N, R-19-E

-1 tree, About 100 yds, W of house: 3’8” cbh

Measured June 20, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

Camp Sidney Cohen: E shore of upper Lake Namahbin, Mill Road, Delafield

-1 tree: 2*9.5” cbh, 40’ h

Measured June 20, 1 973 , by Craig Tiedemann

According to Normal Adelman, camp director, the tree was present on the property when it

was purchased for the camp in the 1930ies.

Charles E. Nelson, Jr. rsidence: 2526 Hwy. ZD, Dousman

-1 young fruiting tree: size unknown

Reported by Walter E. Scott, 1974

WAUPACA COUNTY

Clintonville Clinic: 13th Street, Clintonville

-1 tree: 9*1.5” circumference at 2.5’ from the ground, below a crotch

Measured July 5, 1973, by Craig Tiedemann

There is a young mountainash growing in the rotten crotch.

S side of Town Road: Royalton Twp. Sec. 30, T-22-N, R-13-E

-1 tree, with top cut off at 30’: 28” diameter at breast height

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

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Confirmed 1970 by John Reynolds (Schreder, 1970)

Just W of old Schoenick Nursery: About 4 mi N of Weyauwega, near Hwy 1 10 Royalton Twp.

-several large trees and some seedlings

Reported September 23, 1970, by acting forestry agent Ray Weber of Langlade County

Just E of Waupaca: near old Hwy. 10, about 100 yds, behind Pennybeckers fruit stand,

Waupaca Twp.

-1 large tree

Reported September 23, 1970, by acting forestry agent Ray Weber of Langlade County

CHESTNUTS REPORTED BUT NOT RECENTLY CONFIRMED

DODGE COUNTY

Schaumberg’s Resort: E side of Lake Emily Sec. 5, T-13-N, R-13-E

Several large trees reported by Earl Loyster of the Department of Natural Resources; in 1973

he informed me that he collected nuts from 2 chestnuts at this location in 1939 and hasn’t seen

the trees since; I searched for them on July 6, 1973, but couldn’t find them (C. Tiedemann).

GRANT COUNTY

Farm near Platteville

September 30, 1957

H. Goder

(UW-Madison herbarium)

KEWANEE COUNTY

Norman Thibadean property (former Dr. Robert Minikan summer estate)

Sugar Bush

Luxemburg Twp.

July 27, 1966

Anselm M. Keefe

(UW-Madison herbarium)

ROCK COUNTY

Clinton

W. E. Scott

SAUK COUNTY

Reedsburg School Forest: Reedsburg

1975]

Tiedemann and Hasselkus— Chestnut in Wisconsin

99

-12 fruiting trees reported by Schreder (1970); I searched the Reedsburg School Forest in the

NW Va see. 27, T-12-N, R-5-E on two occasions, but could not locate them (C. Tiedemann).

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The authors wish to thanlTWalter E. Scott for much valuable information, also the patient

Wisconsin landowners who were visited during the study, and Elizabeth S. Tiedemann, who

assisted in many ways.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Baker, F. S. 1949. A revised tolerance table. I. Forestry 47: 179-181.

Beattie, R. K., and J. D. Diller. 1954. Fifty years of chestnut blight in America. J. Forestry 52:

323-329.

Berry, F. H. 1960. Relative resistance of some chestnut species and hybrids inoculated with the

blight fungus. Plant Dis. Reporter 44: 716-717.

Brener, W. H. 1953. Letter to W. E. Scott.

Brener, W. H. 1974. Personal correspondence.

Cain, S. A. 1931. Ecological studies of the vegetation of the Great Smoky mountains of North

Carolina and Tennessee. Bot. Gaz. 91: 22-41.

Clapper, R. B. 1952. Relative blight resistance of some chestnut species and hybrids. J. Forestry

50: 453-455.

Clapper, R. B. 1954. Chestnut breeding, techniques and results. J. Heredity 45: 106-1 14, 201-208.

Clapper, R. B., G. F. Gravatt and D. C. Stout. 1946. Endothia canker on post oak. Plant Dis.

Reporter 30: 381.

Diller, J. D. 1965. Chestnut blight. United States Department of Agriculture. Forest Service.

Forest Pest Leaflet 94.

Diller, J. D. and R. B. Clapper. 1965. A progress report on attempts to bring back the chestnut

tree in the eastern United States, 1954-1964. J. Forestry 63: 186-188.

Elias, T. S. 1971. The genera of Fagaceae in the southeastern United States. J. Arnold

Arboretum 52: 159-195.

Graves, A. H. 1 926. The cause of the persistent development of basal shoots from blighted chest¬

nut trees. Phytopath. 16: 615-621.

Graves, A. H. 1950. Relative blight resistance in species and hybrids of Castanea. Phytopath. 40:

1125-1131.

Hepting, G. H. 1971. Diseases of Forest and Shade Trees of the United States. United States

Department of Agriculture. Forest Service. Agriculture Handbook 386.

Jaynes, R. A. 1962. Chestnut chromosomes. Forest Sci. 8: 372-377.

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

Jaynes, R. A. 1965. Nurse seed grafts of chestnut species and hybrids. Proc. Amer. Soc. Hort.

Sci. 86: 178-182.

Jaynes, R. A. 1969. Handbook of North American Nut Trees. Northern Nut Grower’s Assoc.,

Knoxville, Tenn.

Jaynes, R. A. 1974. Will the American chestnut return? Horticulture 52(8): 41-43.

Jaynes, R. A., and S. L. Anagnostalsis. 1971. Inhibition of Endothia parasitica by benomyl in

field-grown American chestnut trees. Plant Dis. Reporter 55: 199-200.

Jaynes, R. A., and A. H. Graves. 1963. Connecticut hybrid chestnuts and their culture. Connec¬

ticut Agr. Expt. Sta., New Haven. Bulletin 657.

Jaynes, R. A., and G. A. Messner. 1967. Four years of nut grafting chestnut. Internat. Plant

Propagators Society, Combined Proc. 17: 305-310.

Johnson, A. G. 1972. Letter to W. R. West, quoted in 1974 letter from W.R. West to E. R.

Hasselkus.

Lapham, I. A.., J. G. Knapp and H. Crocker. 1867. Report on the disastrous effects of the

destruction of forest trees, now going on so rapidly in the state of Wisconsin. Attwood and

Rublee, State Printers, Journal Office. Madison, Wis.

Metcalf, H. 1914. The chestnut bark disease. J. Heredity 5:8-18.

Moore, J. C. 1963. Propagation of chestnuts and camellia by nurse seed grafts, Internat. Plant

Propagators Society, Combined Proc. 13: 141-143.

Peacher, P. H. 1969. Live oak in Mississippi infected by Endothia parasitica. Plant Dis.

Reporter 53: 304.

Pomeroy, K. B., and D. Dixon. 1966. Social register of big trees. American Forestry

Association.

Price, V. J. 1973. In search of the American chestnut. Soil Conservation 39(3): 12-15.

Rehder, A. 1940. Manual of Cultivated Trees and Shrubs, 2nd ed. Macmillan Co., N. Y.

Saucier, J. R. 1973. American chestnut. . .an American wood. Unites States Department of

Agriculture. Forest Service. Fact Sheet 230.

Sayers, W. B. 1974. The king is dead: long live the king. Nat. Parks and Conservation

Magazine 48(9): 8-13.

Schreder, D. L. 1970. A survey of the American chestnut in Wisconsin. Unpublished report.

Scott, W. E. 1960. American chestnuts in Wisconsin. Dane County Conservation League

Newsletter 7(2).

Stipes, R. J., and P. M. Phipps. 1971 . A species of Enthodia associated with a canker disease of

pin oak ( Quercus palustris) in Virginis. Plant Dis. Reporter 55: 467-469.

Stout, A. B. 1926. Why are chestnuts self-fruitless? J. New York Botanical Garden 27: 154-158.

Thor, E. 1973. The American chestnut 1973. Natl. Parks Conservation Mag. 47(9): 9-12.

1975]

Tiedemann and Hasselkus — Chestnut in Wisconsin

101

Transactions of the Wisconsin State Agricultural Society with Reports of County Societies, and

Kindred Associations. 1858-1859. 5: 105.

United States Department of Agriculture. 1948. Woody Plant Seed Manual. Miscellaneous

Publication 654.

United States Department of Agriculture. Agricultural Research Service. 1960. Plant hardiness

zone map. Miscellaneous Publication 814.

United States Department of Agriculture. Agricultural Research Service. 1964. Chestnut blight

and resistant chestnuts. Farmer’s Bulletin 2068.

Volavka, W. R. and J. R. Muhvich. 1971. A tree grows in Bayfield. Wisconsin Conservation

Bull. 36(3): 18-19.

Wyman, D. 1971. Wyman’s Gardening Encyclopedia. Macmillan Co., N. Y.

THE STYLISTIC IDENTIFICATION OF

FREDERICK JACKSON TURNER WITH

ROBERT M. LA FOLLETTE: A PSYCHOLOGICALLY ORIENTED

ANALYSIS OF LANGUAGE BEHAVIOR

Ronald H. Carpenter

University Florida

Gainesville

On July 16, 1893, Frederick Jackson Turner wrote a letter to Woodrow

Wilson. In apologizing for what was apparently a long overdue reply to

Wilson, Turner’s excuse was that he had been preoccupied with “the final

agonies of getting out a belated paper for the American Historical

Association”1. The “belated paper” was of course his celebrated Chicago,

AHA address of July 12, 1893 on “The Significance of the Frontier in

American History.” That Frontier Thesis, as it is now known, is an eminent

statement among American historical thought and the foundation of

Turner’s fame as historian2.

Actually, Turner had expressed his theme earlier in “Problems in

American History,” published in Aegis of November, 18923. Among some

favorable responses, Albion Small at the University of Chicago expressed

his delight and suggested that the article deserved “a more prominent place

than the columns of a college newspaper”; more important for Turner,

Herbert Baxter Adams at Johns Hopkins read the article and invited the

young historian to present its point of view in longer form at the AHA

meeting scheduled for Chicago that next July 12, 18934. Turner accepted.

But Turner did not work diligently at his revision — as indicated by his

apology to Wilson. What occurred in the final, hurried stages of revising the

Frontier Thesis for presentation to the AHA5? Of crucial interest here are

his adaptations in favor of the hortatory, evocative language behaviors

endowing the address with its distinct rhetorical tone6. Certainly that

rhetorical tone has caused negative reactions on the part of some

historians7. Nevertheless, it is clear that the Frontier Thesis is rhetoricaly

founded discourse; what remains is the isolation and then application of the

psychological model that helps clarify how and why Turner functioned in

July, 1893 as less the historian and more the rhetorician8.

The vehicle for clarifying this position is a psychologically oriented

analysis of style, those specific verbal behaviors more reflective of Turner’s

individualistic options of syntax and lexicon than of the word choice and

word arrangements more characteristic of the customary and familiar idiom

for his language9. Such a language analysis reveals the likelihood that the

pervasive rhetorical quality of language in the Frontier Thesis is the ultimate

product of Turner's emulation for and imitation of Robert M. LaFollette's

style in discourse . In short, an instance of identification.

102

1 975] Carpenter— Turner /LaFollette style identification 1 03

Identification is a pyschological phenomenon. To be regarded initially as

an “acquired cognitive response,” identification is a process whereby in

effect, “some of the characteristics of a model belonged to the individual

and the individual behaved as if some of the characteristics and affective

states of the model belonged to him”10. And numerous psychological

studies substantiate the influence of an identificand, as he evinces a model

behavior which in turn tends to become a pattern for subsequent, imitative

behavior on the part of a respondent11.

As a basis for understanding how LaFollette could become an

identificand and stylistic model for later imitation by Turner, note that

identification is what is known in the philosophy of science as “a

dispositional concept— a concept which refers to certain qualities and

effects of processes within an observable phenomenon, although these

processes cannot be observed themselves; e.g., electricity.”12. To overcome

the difficulties inherent in dealing with such an amorphous quality, the

prudent approach is to maintain the viewpoint advocated by Weiss that one

is dealing with resultant imitative behaviors which on supposition can be

linked to instigating conditions:

As with other psychological processes identification cannot be observed directly.

Hence, evidence concerning it is obtained by measuring overt behavior which on

suppostion is linked to the unobservable aspects of the phenomenon. But to make the

concept predictive, it is necessary to determine what conditions lead to the occurrence and

depth of identification or the choice of an identificand. In other words, to increase the

concept’s theoretical value, the kind of involvement it points to must be linked to

instigating conditions as well as to resultant behavior. Since a sentiment toward a

character is at the root of identification, the attractiveness of the character’s qualities

should be a determinant of identification. Attractiveness may result from the identifier’s

perception of one or more of the identificand ’s salient characteristics. These the person

may already possess or, if not, would like to possess13.

As drawn from the context of this broader psychological perspective, three

factors emerge as the viable model of an instance of identification: (1) the

choice of identificand and qualities that serve as instigating conditions, (2)

the linking dispositional forces constituting motivation for a modelled

behavior, (3) the resultant behavioral manifestation of the identification.

Utilizing this framework, the remainder of the essay will now explicate the

rhetorical basis of the Frontier Thesis in terms of the stylistic identification

of Frederick Jackson Turner with Robert M. LaFollette.

Any instigating conditions for an identification phenomenon must evolve

from an initial positive valence between the two parties in the transaction.

In epitomizing a foundation of an identificand’ s influence, McGuire argues

from a considerable body of evidence which strongly indicates that some

primary dimensions of similarity are necessary to establish the essential

attractiveness that instigates identification14. For what would be the

ultimate rhetorical language behavior in the Frontier Thesis, the essential

source of similarity with LaFollette can be found in the early stylistic

predilections Turner evinced in the scrapbook he began in high school in

Portage, Wisconsin.

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

While still a high school senior in January and February of 1878, young

Turner contributed a regular “Pencil and Scissors” column to his father’s

newspaper. Containing quotations and brief passages that impressed

Turner as a high school senior, six issues of that column appear in his

scrapbook and suggest the style he would emulate. In the shorter quotations

which begin each column, antithesis is the prevailing feature of style,

evincing itself in epigrams such as “Art is long, life short”; or “Live to

learn and learn to live”; or “Love swells like Solway, but ebbs like its tide”;

or “We should esteem virtue, though in a foe ; and abhor vice , though in a

friend .” The longer passages rarely incorporate antithesis, but they almost

always employ parallel repetitions at beginnings of successive phrases or

shorter sentences, often in groups of two as in “ Every candid

acknowledgement, every conquest. . .”; or “Doubt springs from difficulty.

Doubt is the recoil of the mind. . .”; or “It is a building of character. It is a

building that must stand. . .”15.

Young Turner incorporated these features of style in his winning high

school commencement oration on June 28, 1878, “The Power of the

Press,” which also appears in his scrapbook with a report of the event16. In

addition to a few parallel repetitions with like beginnings for successive

items, as in “it was conceived. . .It rose. . .,” there are a few instances of

alliteration, as in “sweetest songs,” or “words of wisdom.” Turner’s major

stylistic effort, however, seems to be aimed at achieving antithesis.

Although he can create overt antithesis between “risen and decayed ” or

“The Past became the Present ,” Turner’s efforts as a high school senior

more often do not attain good balance and apposition. They are less

antonymical, as in “of the ignorant by the ignorant,” or “not only a

possibility , but even a probability” ; and those attempts are sometimes too

diffuse and extended: “the more despotic a monarch, the greater the

restrictions does he place upon the utterances of the Newspaper; while on

the other hand, as the freedom of the Press increases, do does the freedom

of the people.” Nevertheless, these are the three facets of the stylistic

predilection Turner took with him as he matriculated at the University of

Wisconsin.

While Turner was a freshman at Madison in 1879, Robert M. LaFollette

was a senior, establishing a remarkable oratorical career with a speech that

won, successively, a contest at the University of Wisconsin in April 1879, a

state championship on May 2, and an Inter-State Contest a week later in

which winners from six states met in Iowa City. Turner’s scrapbook

contains his story describing LaFollette’s triumphant return to Madison

after winning the state championship at Beloit, Wisconsin; and that account

tells of the crowd waiting at the telegraph office for news of the contest

result, marching in a group to the station with a small band to await

LaFollette’s 2:25 A.M. train, and participating in a victory parade back to

the campus17. The adulation is obvious, and next to the account of the

event, Turner’s scrapbook contains a copy of “Iago,” Lafollette’s prize

winning oration.

1975]

Carpenter — Turner/LaFollette style identification

105

“Iago” corroborates Turner’s budding taste in style. The one

hundred-twenty sentences of LaFollette’s oration are founded stylistically

on a total of sixty-five antitheses. And they appear in the artful forms that

predominated in Turner’s “Pencils and Scissors” but eluded him in “The

Power of the Press.” LaFollette’s antitheses are balanced, as in reference to

“ poverty of sentiment and wealth of intellect ” or “a twisted body and a

majestic mind." In developing its points about a “union of opposites” and

a “moral antithesis,” the oration also can extend a theme antithetically.

Richard III is more humanly terrible ; Iago more devilishly perfect. Richard loves

nothing human; Iago hates everything good. . . .Richard is fire; Iago, ice. Richard III is

more objective; Iago more subjective. . . .Richard III mounts the throne of England on

a score of dead bodies; Iago wins the throne of Hell in three strides. The conscience of

Richard wakes from its swoon; Iago has no conscience.

The parallel repetitions occur readily at beginnings of successive segments,

as in “ Whatever is most mean, whatever is most hard, whatever is vilely

atrocious. . or "All its artful cunning, all its devilish cruelty,” or “He is

hardly human. . .He is wanting in ethical parts. . .He is a fraction. . .He is a

paradox.” And permeating the entire oration is LaFollette’s gift for

alliteration as in “rtoble mature,” “Somber mingling of a smile and a

sneer,” “cursed cunning,” “hypocritical and heartless,” “passionate,

powerful,” and “cynical, sly.” LaFollette’s style displays the fruition of

Turner’s early predilection; and the scrapbook’s inclusion of “Iago” is

suggestive of Turner’s emulation of that style. For a psychologically

oriented analysis, that similarity with Turner’s earlier personal predilection

can be the initial positive valence necessary for identification.

When psychologists explain the dispositional forces that enable such an

instigating condition of similarity to evolve into an ultimate behavioral

response, they inevitably identify the element of reward. Consider the

summary by Weiss of the extensive data about the positive influence of a

person’s perception of the reward attained by a model:

If a person perceives that his own behavior and personality are exhibited by an identi-

ficand who is successful, the “match” can serve as confirmation or reinforcement. . . .

one incentive for identification is the perception that the model commands or attains a

rewarding or satisfying state. Psycho-logic may lead the identifier to conclude that, if he

possessed the characteristics of the identificand, he too would achieve desired goals18.

Perhaps there is sufficient evidence to warrant an axiom: “to the extent that

the observer experiences the model’s reinforcement vicariously, the

observer will be prone to reproduce the model’s behavior”19.

Turner’s newspaper account of the adulation accorded LaFollette is

certainly indicative of his experiencing a model’s reward vicariously. And

Turner certainly knew of the subsequent rewards of LaFollette’s rhetorical

prowess. “Iago” brought LaFollette not only the hero’s return described by

Turner but also an extraordinary gathering in the assembly chamber of the

state capitol, where he was formally congratulated by the university regents

106

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

and leading citizens of Madison20. Eighteen months later, in part due to

fame won by his Interstate oration, LaFollette was elected district attorney

of Dane County and began his political career21.

The likelihood that he might become LaFollette’ s successor in oratory at

Wisconsin could have been suggested to Turner by his earliest experiences in

Madison. As a Wisconsin freshman and sophomore, Turner’s program

called for six essays and six public declamations a year as well as required

attendance at the rhetorical exercises in which juniors and seniors delivered

chapel-stage orations and in which underclassmen delivered declamations

of special merit22. Turner achieved “Rhetoricals” grades in his freshman

and sophomore years of 90% and 93%23. A sophomore rendition of Marc

Antony’s “Address to the Romans’’ at the College Rhetoricals, April, 1881,

was judged “the finest declamation and the best rendered that has been

heard from the Assembly Hall Stage”24. (Turner had been stricken with

spinal meningitis at the end of his freshman year in 1879 and did not return

as a sophomore until 1881 shortly before the rhetoricals). Of course a

declamation is the oral presentation of a speech written earlier by another

person. Of more pertinent interest here is what Turner himself would write

as his rhetorical style.

Initial attempts to imitate LaFollette ’s winning style apparently started in

May 1882. Turner’s Commonplace Book contains several early drafts of an

oration called “The Imaginativeness of the Present”25. Experimenting

stylistically, he incorporates some syntactical inversions, “Lament not. .

.Weep not. . .,” of the type recommended in Spencer’s Philosophy of Style ,

which he read that year26. But the tendency is still to rely on antitheses

like those between “the practical ” and “the ideal ” or “the past dreamed —

the present acts .” Parallel repetitions are consistently at beginnings of

successive segments and noticeably in groups of two, as in “ He only

predicts. . .he only shows. . .” or “ Imagination respects the cause. . .

Imagination is a perception. . .” Even in early drafts, Turner also seems to

achieve alliteration easily.

Much of what would be his Burrows prize oration, “The Poet of the

Future,” is articulated in earlier drafts of the speech developed in his

1881-82 Commonplace Book27. Another indication of Turner’s attention to

style well in advance of the Burrows contest on May 18, 1883 is a letter from

home dated a month earlier, in which his father says he is “Glad that you

have got your oration completed. Now that you have got it in form you will

be able to reconstruct sentences and add some ideas that will suggest

themselves without giving you much labor”28.

The “form” that Turner settled upon to win the Burrows prize was

eminently antithetical, with some of the better LaFollettesque appositions

reserved for essentially thematic statements like “The reign of aristocracy is

passing ; that of humanity begins” ; “He will unite the logic of the present

and the dream of the past”; and “He will reflect all the past and prophesy

the future” The parallel repetitions are there, usually in groups of two at

1 975] Carpenter — Turner/LaFollette style identification 1 07

the beginnings of successive phrases or short sentences, as in “ Beneath

every literature there is a philosophy. Beneath every work of art there is an

idea of nature and life”; and alliteration occurs as in “/isping /ines,” or

“cold critical,” or “proclaims the progress.”

Winning the Burrows Prize at the Junior Exhibition of May 18, 1883 had

to be a milestone in Turner’s oratorical career at Wisconsin. This particular

contest was among the most important events in campus life (in a day when

oratorical prowess was a greatly admired attribute among college students).

The recognition was laudatory. One report observed that “Mr. Turner as

predicted, had an excellent production”; and, after comparing the strengths

of the oration to others in content and delivery, the article concluded

succinctly: “As was expected, the judges decided in favor of Mr. Turner of

Adelphia”29. Another report had similar praise:

The verdict of the audience was in perfect accord with the judges. There was no possibility

of doubt regarding the justice of the award. To the audience Mr. Turner’s oration was the

superior one of the evening in all the essential points of thought, composition and

delivery30.

Similarly, his commencement oration “Architecture Through Oppression”

won the Senior Lewis Prize on June 18, 1884, and the stylistic carryover to

that oration is complete. With antitheses from his 1881-82 Commonplace

Book oration, Turner amplifies a Lewis prize theme that “the history of

humanity has been a romance and a tragedy .”

Millions groaned that one might laugh, servile tillers of the soil, sweating that others

might dream; drinking the logwood of life while their masters quaffed its nectar, Many

are the historians who have painted the glories of the past; few there are that tell the

lamentation and the ancient tale of wrong.

More alliteration accompanies the now inevitable parallel repetitions at

beginnings of successive phrases or short sentences31. The three stylistic

features still prevail; the rhetorical style so reminiscent of LaFollette

belongs to Turner32. Turner now has the sobriquet “remarkable boy

orator” of Wisconsin33. On the strength of that rhetorical reputation,

Turner’s first teaching responsibilities at the University of Wisconsin during

the academic years 1885-86 through 1887-88 were in teaching Rhetoric and

Oratory under David B. Frankenburger34. He would not again have the

most crucial need of those “rewarded” rhetorical language behaviors,

however, until the summer of 1893, at the turning point of his career as

historian. At that time, another dispositional force probably came into play

as motivation to rely on the rhetorical style modelled after LaFollette.

As a product of psychological identification, modelled behavior also is

predicated upon a perception of a “need relevance” on the part of a

respondent— usually within the parameters of an identificand’s behavior

that is “most relevant” to the identifier’s needs at a given time35.

Identification, and any facet of the process subsumed under the term, must

be regarded as an instance of “incidental learning” whereby the imitative

1 08 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

behavior evinces itself in applications upon later occasions and in “new

settings in which the model is absent’’36. What often can call forth such

modelled behavior is described best in more rhetorically oriented

terminology as an “ exigence ” that can be modified by discourse:

i

Any exigence is an imperfection marked by urgency; it is a defect, an obstacle, something

waiting to be done, a thing which is other than it should be. . . . An exigence is rhetorical

when it is capable of positive modification and when positive modification requires

discourse or can be assisted by discourse37.

Apply this concept of exigence to the ninth annual AHA Convention.

In terms of those who heard Turner on the evening of July 12, 1893 as

well as those who could later read his treatise, the American Historical

Association was an audience described by Billington as having a widespread

preconceived “Germanic germ” notion of the essential movement of

American history.

Historians of that generation stood almost solidly behind the “germ” theory to explain

the genesis of their nation’s institutions. Each had evolved from an English institution,

and beyond that from its “germ” in the forests of medieval Germany; this was demon-

stratably true because comparisons revealed unmistakable similarities with ancient

Teutonic practices that were sure proof of common origins. To suggest, as Turner did,

that this was untrue, and that American customs were shaped by contact with the

wilderness no less than by inheritance from a medieval brotherhood flew in the face of

tradition, logic, and common sense38.

The exigency created by Turner’s different philosophical basis led to his

seeking a well delineated response from the 200 or so members of the

immediate audience and the profession at large: more study and research

into the distinctly American frontier factors that influenced national history

and development. After a brief reference to the census of 1890, that theme

is stated emphatically in the introductory remarks, and it is repeated

fourteen times in references to specific facets of the frontier that should be

studied. In an autobiographical statement twenty-nine years later, Turner

could still say in retrospect that his 1893 paper was in some degree “a

protest against eastern neglect, at the time, of institutional study of the

West”39. So the rhetorical nature of the event and exigence made a

rhetorical language response relevant.

Now, as a final dispositional force probably operative in Turner’s last

minute preparations, consider his own strong feelings that history should

not be dull, dry, or uninteresting in its style. Rather, “vivacity” was desired

in historical composition. Perhaps the first inkling of this belief appears in

1888. After attending the fifth annual AHA Convention in Washington in

December, 1888, Turner wrote to William F. Allen about his reactions to

the convention and observed that “the papers were good, but many of

them, especially those of the younger men. . .were too much in the nature of

detailed research — facts not illuminated — not of the most interesting

character for a spoken address”40. A commitment to an ideal style of

historical composition found expression in his 1891 essay, “The

1975]

Carpenter — Turner/LaFollette style identification

109

Significance of History.” Admitting that attempts to “force dull facts into

vivacity” could result in distortion, Turner would gladly admit that in

itself an interesting style, even a picturesque manner of presentation, is not

to be condemned, provided that truthfulness of substance rather than

vivacity of style be the end sought”41. So Turner had a rationale for relying

on the stylistic maneuvers described in nineteenth century textbooks as

sources of vivacity — and the same stylistic maneuvers as formerly

characteristic of LaFollette. Here, then, is how Turner probably was

constrained by these dispositional forces to evince the ultimate modelled

rhetorical style to be described now.

In the Frontier Thesis, antithesis is the salient source of style. Antithesis

evolves from a syntactical justaposition of semantic opposites which evinces

balance and apposition not characteristic of more idiomatic language

behavior42. Turner’s rhetorical tendency, however, is to use antithesis to

phrase his main theme or application for the audience intially and, then, to

amplify that theme43. Unlike 1892’s “Problems in American History,”

1893’s address states its theme antithetically: “Our early history is the study

of European germs developing in an American environment. Too exclusive

attention has been paid by institutional students to the Germanic origins ,

too little to the American factors”44. The influence of the frontier upon the

arriving European is immediately illustrated with two antithesis: “It takes

him from the railroad car and puts him in the birch canoe. It strips off the

garments of civilization and arrays him in the hunting shirt and the

moccasin”45 .

Much of the amplification in the address is developed similarly. For

instance, “the West was not content with bringing the farm to the factory. .

.tariffs were passed, with the cry of bringing the factory to the farm.”

There are 47 antitheses, developing within single or successive sentences

such justapositions as those between “ slender paths of aboriginal

intercourse” and “ complex mazes of modern commercial lines” ; “good”

and “ evil ”; “ dangers ” and “ benefits” \ “ primitive ” and “ developed ”;

“bonds of custom” and “ unrestraint” \ as well as a repeated antithesis

between “savagery” and “civilization”46.

Even while quoting others for amplification, Turner favors the well

turned antithetical phrase. He relies on Lamar: “In 1789 the states were the

creators of the federal government; in 1861 the federal government was the

creator of a large majority of the states.” There is the familiar line from

Lincoln that “this government cannot endure permanently half slave and

half free. It will become all of one thing , or all of the other.” There is also

an extended illustration about the difference “between a talking and a

working politician.”

Parallel repetitions are prominent, too, usually repeating the same word

or words uncommonly at the beginnings of successive phrases or short

sentences (and often in twos)47. Turner characteristically develops rhetorical

parallelism like “to the changes of an expanding people. . .to the changes

1 1 0 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

involved in crossing a continent” '“Stand at Cumberland Gap. . .Stand at

South Pass. . “ The exploitation of the beasts. . .the exploitation of the

grasses. . .the exploitation of the virgin soil. . and “It was western New

York. . .it was western Virginia. . .”48.

Alliteration is still another of Turner’s stylistic characteristics. The

alliterative antithesis between savagery and civilization recurs several

times49. He also lapses easily into alliterative sequences such as “traders and

trappers,” “./locks or /urs,” “/deas and /nstitutions,” and “de cade to

decade distinct advances.”

The address also has a metaphorical theme, describing social institutions

in essentially biological terms. Thus, institutions and constitutional forms

become “organs”; a geographic area can be subject to “cross fertilization”

and undergo “evolution” into “a higher stage”; and civilization has

“arteries” and a “complex nervous system.” While the frontier is

sometimes personified as it “had leaped” or “skipped” or “was on the

march,” the prevailing metaphorical theme is of social organisms

undergoing evolution according to a Neo-Lamarckian conception of

biological environmentalism in the realm of human society50. This

metaphor is not so much unique to Turner as it was characteristic at that

time of the newly accepted science of evolutionary human geography.

The rhetorical style, personal to Turner himself in 1893’s Frontier Thesis,

is founded distinctly upon antithesis, alliteration, and parallel repetition,

particularly at the beginnings of successive phrases or short sentences.

Certainly other individualistic options were available to him, but his

personal imprint upon the discourse is founded upon choices in favor of

only these three rhetorical features, and these are the foundations of Robert

LaFollette’s 1879 style in “Iago”!

Many years later, upon his retirement from Harvard in 1924, Turner

indirectly substantiated his stylistic identification with LaFollette. On May

24th of that year, Turner was the honored guest at a Harvard History Club

dinner commemorating his forthcoming retirement. His address on that

occasion is described by Billington as “a gay little speech that stressed trivial

experiences of his boyhood that had stirred his interest in western his¬

tory”51. As further evidence for this psychologically oriented analysis of

language behavior, however, that address is more significant. Typically

Turner ian, the longhand draft starts out with a carefully worded statement

about “some of the forces that have influenced my career”; but by the time

Turner gets to the fifth page of longhand, the manuscript becomes just a

topical list of the specific influences about which he will speak

extemporaneously. Prominent on that list is Turner’s intention to discuss

“LaFollette — Iago”52. So at the close of his teaching career in 1924, while

summing up all the major influences upon his life, Frederick Jackson

Turner had to acknowledge directly the impact of a speech that he heard as

a University of Wisconsin freshman in 1879.

In summary, the rhetorical tone of Frederick Jackson Turner’s Frontier

Thesis is primarily an effect on its style. As it was evinced in the hurried,

1975]

Carpenter — Turner/ LaFollette style identification

111

final stages of adapting his address, Turner’s rhetorical style well may be

the ultimate behavioral manifestation of his emulation for and imitation of

Robert M. LaFollette’s stylistic characteristics. That stylistic identification

is explained here as a psychological phenomenon. The basic similarity

between Turner’s early stylistic predilections and LaFollette’s rhetorical

language behavior can be regarded as an instigating condition. Then,

dispositional forces probably came into play as influences upon Turner in

July, 1893 just before the AHA Convention. Being acutely aware of the

“rewards” to LaFollette, Turner had the use of that style reinforced for

him as he, too, attained rhetorical effectiveness with it. Then, likely

operating under the pressures of the rhetorical exigency of 1893 and finally

succumbing to the constraint of his own strong feelings about a desirable

quality of historical writing, Turner relied extensively on the modelled style

of his winning orations. Within the parameters of this psychologically

oriented analysis, these language behaviors are accounted for best as the

product of an early stylistic identification with Robert M. LaFollette.

NOTATIONS

1. Letter to Woodrow Wilson, July 16, 1893, in Box 1 of the Turner Collection at the Henry E.

Huntington Library, hereafter cited as HEH, TU.

2. Turner did not receive widespread positive reaction in Chicago the night of July 12 at the

ninth annual AHA meeting. He delivered the paper again in Madison, Wisconsin on December

14, 1 893 . After publication in 1 894 by the State Historical Society of Wisconsin, it then appeared

over the years with only very minor revisions in anthologies and also as Chapter One of Turner’s

1920 book, The Frontier in American History. In 1921, Charles A. Beard described its “immense

and salutary’’ influence by saying “in the literature of American History there is perhaps no

essay or article more often cited or quoted than Professor Turner’s”; now, Billington epitomizes

Turner’s impact by avering that with the possible esception of Charles A. Beard’s work, the

Frontier Thesis “did more to vitalize the study of American history than any other

interpretation.” See Charles A. Beard, “AReviewof The Frontier in American History” New

Republic, 25 (February 16, 1921), 349, as well as Ray A. Billington, The Genesis of the Frontier

Thesis: A Study in Historical Creativity (San Marino, 1971), p. 4. While I was working at the

Huntington in 1971 with the Turner collection, Professor Billington, Senior Research Associate

of the Libarary, graciously allowed me to read drafts of this book as well as his now published

Bancroft Prize biography, Frederick Jackson Turner: Historian, Scholar, Teacher (New York,

1973).

For a brief description of initial reaction to the address, see Fulmer Mood’s introduction

essay, “Turner’s Formative Period,” in The Early Writings of Frederick Jackson Turner

(Freeport, New York, 1919), p. 39; for other descriptions of Turner’s influence upon American

historical thought, see Harvey Wish, Contemporary America, rev. ed. (New York, 1955), pp.

46-47, 517; Max Lerner, American as a Civilization (New York, 1957), p. 34; and Richard

Hofstadter, The Progressive Historians (New York, 1969), pp. 47-164.

3. Reprinted in Early Writings, pp. 71-83. In its broad outline, this article presents the same

points in the same sequence as 1893’s “Significance of the Frontier,” and Turner’s first footnote

in the Frontier Thesis points to its “foundation” in this 1892 essay.

Billington maintains that Aegis, a publication of Wisconsin undergraduates, had invited

Turner to prepare a paper on some aspect of Wisconsin’s early history. Turner, however,

“delayed preparing his essay until the last moment, as was his custom,” and decided to advance

his new interpretation. Billington, loc. cit.

1 1 2 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

For a brief description of how Turner’s concept had origins as a graduate student at Johns

Hopkins, see Hofstadter, pp. 68-71.

4. Letter from Albion Small, Nov. 9, 1892, and letter from Herbert Adams, Nov. 29, 1892,

HEH, TU Box 1.

5. In Chapter Three, “The 1893 Essay and Its Reception,” Billington agrees that Turner

probably wrote the draft of his Chicago address immediately before the convention. See The

Genesis of the Frontier Thesis . For other indications of Turner’s propensity for last minute

preparation of manuscripts for addresses, see Billington’s description of Turner developing a

commencement speech for the University of Washington in 1914, in “Frederick Jackson Turner:

Non-Western Historian,” Trans. Wis. Acad. Sci., Arts, Lett., 59, 9-10, 1971.

6. These are the language usages characterizing discourse with suasory design, as opposed to

more “scientific” or “epistemological” usages that might be expected to predominate in

scholarly, historical writing. After C. K. Ogden and I. A. Richards, The Meaning of Meaning

(New York, 1923), pp. 123-6, 149, and 158-9.

7. See Hofstadter’s critical reaction to Turner’s “vagueness,” “imprecision,” “overstate¬

ment,” “obsessive grandeur,” and “disposition to illustrate but not to define.” Pp. 84, 1 19-29,

126.

For a most interesting interpretation of Turner’s rhetorical tone, see David W. Noble,

Historians Against History: The Frontier Thesis and the National Covenant in American

Historical Writing Since 1830 (Minneapolis, 1965). Noble labels Turner a “Jeremiah,” warning

against losing a desired Puritan ethic derived from contact with nature and the wilderness rather

than the destructive traditions and institutions of the Old World. See in particular pp. 3-16,

37-58.

8. Much of the discussion about the origins of Turner’s language appears in my essay “The

Rhetorical Genesis of Style in the ‘Frontier Hypothesis’ of Frederick Jackson Turner,” South¬

ern Speech Communication Jour., 36, (Spring 1972), 233-248; the psychologically oriented

model of identification probably accounting for this phenomenon is an outgrowth of my back¬

ground research into the effects of the motion picture Patton on Richard Nixon at the time of

the Cambodian Incursion. See Ronald H. Carpenter and Robert V. Seltzer, “Nixon, Patton

and a Silent Majority Sentiment about the Viet Nam War: The Cinematographic Bases of a

Rhetorical Stance.” Central States Speech Jour., 25, 105-110, 1974.

9. This operational definition of style is derived from Rulon Wells, “Nominal and Verbal

Style” and Charles E. Osgood, “Some Effects of Motivation on Style of Encoding,” both in

Style in Language ed. Thomas A. Sebeok (New York, 1960), pp. 215 and 193.

10. Jerome Kagan, “The Concept of Identification,” Psych. Rev., 65, 304, 1958.

11. See for instance Albert Bandura and Aletha Huston, “Identification as a Process of

Incidental Learning,” Jour. Abnormal and Social Psych., 63, 311-318, 1961; Albert Bandura,

Dorothea Ross, and Sheila Ross, “Transmission of Aggression Through Imitation of

Aggressive Models,” Jour. Abnormal and Social Psych., 63, 575-582, 1961; Eleanor E.

MacCoby and William C. Wilson, “Identification and Observational Learning From Films,”

Jour. Abnormal and Social Psych., 65, 76-87, 1957; David J. Hicks, “Imitation and Retention

of Film-mediated Aggressive Peer and Adult Models,” Jour. Personality and Social Psych., 2,

97-100, 1965; and Robert S. Albert, “The Role of Mass Media and the Effect of Aggressive

Film Content Upon Children’s Aggressive Responses and Identification Choices,” Genetic

Psych. Monogr., 55, 221-285, 1957.

12. Albert, 252.

1975]

Carpenter — Turner/LaFollette style identification

113

13. Walter Weiss, “Effects of the Mass Media of Communication,’’ in Handbook of Social

Psychology, 2nd ed. by Gardner Lindzey and Elliot Aronson (Reading, Massachusetts, 1969),

V. p. 99.

14. William J. McGuire, “The Nature of Attitudes and Attitude Change,” in The Handbook

of Social Psychology , 2nd ed. by Gardner Lindzey and Elliot Aronson, (Reading,

Massachusetts, 1969), III, pp. 180, 187.

15. Turner’s scrapbook is initially dated 1876, HEH, TU, Box 55.

16. His first prize was Macauley’s History of England , as well as a favorable review in the

newspaper which his father owned and published. See the Wisconsin State Register, June 22 and

July 6, 1878.

As indications of Turner’s still earlier rhetorical experience, he had been chosen in his last two

years of high school as one of a half dozen Portage youths to present Memorial Day declama¬

tions. Wisconsin State Register, May 26, 1877 and June 1, 1878.

17. The story, dated May 3, 1879, is titled “A Portage University Student Enthusiastic Over

the Oratorical Contest.” It is signed merely “F.” but the story is almost certainly written by

Turner.

18. Weiss, pp. 98-100.

19. Abert Bandura, Dorothea Ross, and Sheila Ross, “Imitation of Film-mediated Aggressive

Models,” Jour. Abnormal and Social Psych., 66, 3, 1963.

20. See Gordon F. Hostettler, “The Political Speaking of Robert M. LaFollette,” in

American Public Address: Studies in Honor of Albert Craig Baird, ed. Loren Reid (Columbia

1961), pp. 115-116.

21. See Hostettler, ibid. , and Carroll P. Lahman, “Robert M. LaFollette,” in A History and

Criticism of American Public Address, Vol. II. ed. William Norwood Brigance (New York,

1943), p. 945.

22. Catalogue of the University of Wisconsin 1881-1882, p. 55. The 1883-84 catalogue reads

the same.

23. Turner’s University of Wisconsin transcript is included in Box 53, HEH,TU.

24. Wisconsin State Register, April 30, 1881 , and the University Press of the same date. Much

of this material about Turner’s early rhetorical preparation will appear in Billington’s

forthcoming biography.

25. “F. J. Turner’s 1881 Commonplace Book,” HEH, TU Vol. III.

26. That Commonplace Book lists all the works read by Turner in 1880, 1881, and 1882, the

year in which he read Spencer’s Philosophy of Style as well as his principal rhetorical text,

Adams Sherman Hill, Principles of Rhetoric.

27. When compared to his high school oration, the several drafts of the speech in Turner’s

Commonplace Book constitute a bridging exercise, combining several ideas from “The Power of

the Press” with what he had read as a college student. Later, the drafts of “The Imaginativeness

of the Present” were cannibalized to form parts of both his junior and senior prize orations.

28. Letter from Turner’s father, April 19, 1883, HEH,TU Box A.

114

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

29. University Press, May 19, 1883. A text of the oration is published in the University Press ,

May 26, 1883.

In contrast to the prestigious and longer established Athena and Hesperin, Adelphia was a

small and relatively newly formed literary society. University Press , May 17, 1881.

30. Wisconsin State Journal, May 19, 1883.

31. A text of this oration is published in the University Press, June 21, 1884.

32. There are examples of that style for rhetorical effect throughout Turner’s life. For

instance, Turner’s eulogy of Frankenburger, Feb. 8, 1906, evinces the same stylistic character¬

istics. HEH,TU Boix 55.

The Turner Collection at the State Historical Society of Wisconsin also contains not only the

final draft of an address on Jan. 31, 1906 to University of Wisconsin alumni but also a long

hand earlier draft. As he polishes what will be his final version, the attempt to create and balance

antithesis is apparent. Hereafter cited as SHSW, TU.

33. See Joseph Schafer, “The Author of the ‘Frontier Hypothesis’,” Wis. Mag. History, 15,

86-89, 1931.

34. In the 1885-86 and 1886-87 issues of the Catalogue of the University of Wisconsin, Turner

is listed among “Instructors and Assistants” in Rhetoric and Oratory; in 1887-88, he is listed as

an “Instructor in History and Oratory,” Although Turner was by this latter date committed to a

career in teaching history, he still taught freshmen Elocution.

For a description of Turner as a teacher of Rhetoric and Oratory, see Goodwin R. Berquist,

Jr., “The Rhetorical Heritage of Frederick Jackson Turner,” Trans. Wis. Acad. Sci. Arts

Lett., 59, 28-30, 1971. Although he refers to Turner’s orations over the years, Berquist does

not analyze the specific rhetorical language behaviors that are the focal point of my essay.

Upon graduation, Turner worked a year as a newspaper reporter. After making up his mind to

do graduate work in history, his “champagne taste” life style called for a means to support

himself while doing his M.A. at Wisconsin. The position to teach Rhetoric and Oratory served

that purpose.

35. Eleanor E. MacCoby, William C. Wilson, and Rober V. Burton, “Differential

Movie-viewing Behavior of Male and Female Viewers,” Jour. Personality, 26, 259-260, 1938.

36. See Bandura and Huston, 311; Bandura, Ross, and Ross, 3, as well as their “Transmission

of Aggression,” 575.

37. Lloyd F. Bitzer, “The Rhetorical Situation,” Philosophy and Rhetoric, 1, 6-7, 1968.

38. Billington, loc. cit.

39. Turners autobiographical letter to Constance L. Skinner, March 15, 1922, MSE 902,

SHSW,TU.

40. Letter To William F. Allen, Dec. 31, 1888, HEH,TU Box 1.

41. “The Significance of History” in Early Writings , p. 44. In this essay, Turner lapses at

times into the style of his earlier college orations. There is a noticeable use of parallelism at the

beginnings of serial items, and in particular an extended passage founded upon a sequence of

10 successive antitheses, pp. 52-53.

42. An explanation of why antithesis deviates from idiomatic usage appears in my compilation

“The Essential Schemes of Syntax: An Analysis of Rhetorical Theory’s Recommendation for

Uncommon Word Orders,” Quart. Jour. Speech, 55, (April 1969), 161-168.

1975]

Carpenter— Turner/ LaFollette style identification

115

43. The apparent appropriateness of antitheses for articulating main themes or morals in

discourse is discussed in my commentary with Robert V. Seltzer, “Situational Style and the

Rotunda Eulogies,” Central States Speech Jour., 22, (Spring, 1971), 11-15.

44. Early Writings , p. 188. Compare this statement to Turner’s more idiomatic version in

“Problems in American History,” Early Writings , p. 72.

45. Of interest to both the historian and the stylist is an appendix to Early Writings which

compares minor changes made in the Frontier Hypothesis during successive publications. The

text used for this stylistic analysis is as it appeared originally in the Proc. State Historical Soc.

Wisconsin (Madison, 1894).

46. Actually there are some places in the 1892 essay which are almost antithetical, but they do

not have the balance and apposition of his 1893 effort. Although the Frontier Hypothesis is

considerably longer, its number of antitheses can be compared to the extent to which these con¬

formations appear in some contemporary discourse. See “Situational Style and the Rotunda

Eulogies” as well as our commentary “On Nixon’s Kennedy Style,” Speaker and Gavel, 7, (Jan¬

uary 1970), 41-43.

47. The basis for parallel repetitions being uncommon is discussed in “The Essential Schemes

of Syntax,” loc. cit.

48. There are a few good examples of parallel repetition in “Problems in American History,”

too. They tend to be carried over virtually intact to the 1 893 address. Compare, for instance, the

parallel uses of “It was” on pp. 79 and 217, Early Writings.

49. Turner’s repeated apposition of “savage” and “civilization” may reflect his father’s con¬

tinued editorial condemnation in their Wisconsin State Register of “savages” who massacred

honest settlers and the drunken, “worthless savages” who alarmed women and generally men¬

aced life and property in Portage. As an impressionable twelve year old, Turner saw troops

arrive in Portage in early 1873 to remove forcibly the nearby “savages” to a Nebraskan

reservation. In the Wisconsin State Register Feb. 17, 1866; April 26, May 3, and Aug. 9, 1873;

and April 20, 1878. Billington discusses Turner’s youth at length in Chapter Two, “Fred J.

Turner: Background and Training,” in The Genesis of the Frontier Thesis (as well as in his

Bancroft Prize biography).

50. William Coleman, “Science and Symbol in the Turner Frontier Hypothesis,” American

Historical Review, LXXII (1966), 22-49. Coleman’s article also has a shorter description of

Turner’s boyhood in Portage, p. 46.

Turner’s earlier and prominent reliance on this metaphorical theme appears in “The

Significance of History,” Wisconsin Jour. Education, 21 (October and November, 1891),

230-234, 253-256. The essay is reprinted in Early Writings. See in particular pp. 45, 50, and

52-57.

51. Billington, Frederick Jackson Turner, p. 388.

52. Turner’s longhand draft of this address is in HEH, TU Box 56.

IDENTIFICATION AND MANAGEMENT OF EURASIAN

WATER MILFOIL IN WISCONSIN

Stanley A. Nichols

University Wisconsin —

Madison

ABSTRACT

The rank growth of Eurasian milfoil (Myriophyllum spicatum L.)

restricts recreational and other uses of Wisconsin waters. It is a recent

invader into the state and is easily confused with a native variety of the same

species. Quick identification is necessary so the problem species can be

eliminated or controlled by chemical, mechanical or habitat manipulative

techniques before it becomes more widespread. The two types can be

separated with 70% effectiveness by determining whether the specimen has

more or less than 14 pairs of leaflets. Eurasian milfoil characteristically has

more than 14 pairs of leaflets.

INTRODUCTION

The Eurasian variety of Myriophyllum spicatum L. causes serious

problems for lake usage in many North American lakes. Presently, the

range of Eurasian milfoil in Wisconsin is limited, but because of the number

of hard water, eutrophic lakes in the state, and the rapidity with which the

species can spread, quick identification and control of the plant is

necessary. The purpose of this report is to develop a method for the field

identification of the species and to discuss its life history in relation to

control measures.

IDENTIFICATION AND DISTRIBUTION IN THE STATE

Many species of the milfoil genus {Myriophyllum) look alike and some

species are nearly impossible to separate without flowers or fruits. The

Eurasian milfoil is most likely to be confused with the native variety of the

same species (M spicatum var. exalbescens [Fernald] Jepson).

Originally Fernald (1919) described the native variety as a separate species

(M exalbescens Fern.), but it was later reduced to varietal status (Jepson,

1925 and Fernald, 1945). The morphological differences between the two

types are reviewed in Appendix A. A primary field characteristic seems to

be the number of pairs of leaflets present per leaf. The Eurasian variety

characteristically has 14 or more pairs of leaflets and the native variety

characteristically has less than 14 pairs of leaflets (Patten, 1954).

116

1975]

Nichols — Eurasian water milfoil

117

Some American investigators working in various regions failed to

recognize the new species and Patten (1954) indicated that there was not a

clear separation between the two types. The difference, until recently, was

largely academic. Within the last 20 years, milfoil has become a problem

weed in numerous areas (Patten, 1956; Springer, et al., 1966; Crowell, et

al., 1967 and Nichols and Mori, 1971). The plant causing the problem

commonly has over 14 pairs of leaflets and, therefore, would be considered

the Eurasian variety. The distinction between the two is critical because the

native plant is common and widespread throughout the state (Fig. 1), but

does not appear to cause the serious nuisance weed problems that the

Eurasian variety causes.

A study was undertaken using methods of numerical taxonomy

(Appendix B) to see if the field characteristics of 14 pairs of leaflets

effectively separated the plants. It was found that the two types were not

clearly distinct, but the plants with 14 or more pairs of leaflets tended to

group together and those with less than 14 pairs of leaflets tended to group

together. The number of pairs of leaflets was about 70% effective in

separating the two types. It would, therefore, appear to be a useful field

identification characteristic.

The collections of milfoil at the University of Wisconsin — Madison

Herbarium were examined, and by the leaflet characteristic criterion, it was

ascertained that Eurasian milfoil was found at only two locations (Fig. 1):

Horeshoe Lake in Manitowoc County and the Madison lakes. It has been

reported from other lakes in southeastern Wisconsin, such as Pewaukee

Lake, but no specimens are on file for examination. The first Eurasian

specimen was collected in 1966; it appears that the milfoil entered the

Madison lakes sometime between 1962, when the last native type was

collected in Lake Mendota, and 1966.

LIFE HISTORY AND ECOLOGY

Eurasian milfoil is an aggressive plant with a wide ecological amplitude.

The life history and ecology of the plant has been studied by Patten (1954),

Lind and Cottam (1969 and Nichols (1971). Patten (1956) found that the

distribution of milfoil in Lake Musconetong, New Jersey, was determined

primarily by substratum particle size, water depth, and water temperature.

Maximum plant density coincided with the distribution of fine organic ooze

and diminished to nearly total absence on sand. Plant growth did not occur

at depths greater than seven feet and other things being equal, warmer

temperatures favored greater luxuriance. Nichols (1971) found maximum

biomasses of milfoil in depths that ranged from 1.5 to 4.5 ft (0.5 - 1.5 m) in

soil textures that ranged from 11% to 26% sand-sized particles and in soil

where organic matter ranged from 5% to 14%. The Eurasian milfoil has an

affinity for alkaline waters and under highly calcareous conditions it

precipitates an encrustation of marl. The plant can utilize bicarbonate for

118

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

FIGURE 1. The distribution of Myriophyllum spicatum in Wisconsin. Mapped from collec¬

tions at the University of Wisconsin-Madison Herbarium.

photosynthetic purposes, so it has a definite advantage, in alkaline waters,

over species which need free C02 (Hutchinson, 1970). In general, the

Eurasian variety has ecological requirements similar to those of the native

variety; therefore, any lake containing the native variety might be

susceptible to invasion by the Eurasian type.

The plant is a perennial with two flowering periods and two growth peaks

during the summer. It flowers in mid-June and late summer. The second

flowering generally occurs in late July, but can last considerably longer,

with fruiting heads still visible in mid-October. The peak biomass occurs

1975]

Nichols — Eurasian water milfoil

119

shortly after the flowering period and both flowering periods are followed

by autofragmentation of the plant. Plant fragments will line windward

shores of the lake, causing additional lake problems.

Eurasian milfoil has a high reproductive potential, both sexually and

asexually. Patten (1956) reported that milfoil seeds from the early flowering

were largely inviable, but an 85% germination rate was obtainable from

seeds of the second flowering period. There also appears to be a need for a

period of after-ripening, as year-old seeds had a higher germination rate

than newly developed ones. Partial removal of the seed coat, scarification,

freezing, drying, and exposure to extremes of pH all enhance germination.

The seeds are heavier than water, so they sink to the botton when released.

Seeds, however, may be transported long distances because fruit-containing

spikes are capable of flotation; seeds can be carried by ice floes and wildlife.

Patten (1956) indicated that sexual reproduction was of minor significance

in maintaining the species because seedlings are subject to predation and are

intolerant of shading.

The plant can reproduce asexually by means of vegetative buds and stem

fragments. Vegetative buds are normally axillary; and profuse bud

development can occur in the early spring. Each bud can be easily detached

from the parent and grow into a new plant. Weber (1972) found this to be

an important reproductive mechanism in the native variety. Whether it is

used by the Eurasian variety is open to question, as Hulten (1947) believes

that winter buds never develop in the Eurasian variety. Stem fragments can

vigorously sprout adventitious roots, sink, and again produce a new plant.

Cottam and Nichols (1970) reported denuding a 10 by 10 m area in

University Bay of Lake Mendota. One month later, the plot was reinvaded

to the extent of 36 plants per square meter. Patten (1956) did a similar

experiment on Lake Musconetong, New Jersey, where he cleared a 1 x 4 m

plot. One month after an initial planting of 15 plants, 80 individuals were

recorded. Currituck Sound, North Carolina, illustrates the rapidity with

which milfoil can spread. First reports of the plant were received in 1965. At

this time approximately 100 acres (40 ha.) were in the infestation stage and

500 (200 ha.) to 1,000 (400 ha.) additional acres showed initial

establishment. By the summer of 1966 these figures had risen to 8,000

(3,000 ha.) and 67,000 (26,800 ha.) acres, respectively, (Crowell, et al.,

1967).

MANAGEMENT AND CONTROL

The methods of invasion into the state and establishment of the plant are

not well documented. Eurasian milfoil was first collected in the Chesapeake

Bay Region in 1902 (Steenis, et al., 1961). By 1967 the plant was established

in the Northeast in Vermont, New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and

Delaware. In the Midwest, it has been reported in Ohio, Indiana, Illinois,

and Wisconsin. Its presence has been noted in the states of Maryland,

1 20 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Louisiana, Texas,

Oklahoma, and California.

A control and management program needs to be concerned with the

prevention and restriction of the plant infestation, and then with the

reduction in the area of the plant infestation. In Wisconsin, little attention

has been given to restricting the spread of plants from lake to lake. In New

Zealand, where they are very experienced with problems relating to the

spread of alien flora, it is common practice to post warnings on lakes

reminding boaters to clear all aquatic vegetation from boats, motors and

trailers to prevent material from being transported to adjacent lakes.

Since the plant can spread rapidly from vegetative parts, it is important to

minimize the disturbance of established plant beds. Motor boats traveling

through beds can produce untold numbers of stem fragments, all of which

can take root and produce new plants. Any measure to mechanically control

the species should remove plant fragments from the lake. If the plants are

cut, but not removed from the lake, large numbers of vegetative propagules

are produced.

Management techniques fall into four groups: chemical treatment with

herbicides, mechanical treatment, biological control, and habitat manipula¬

tion.

Chemical treatment can be effective in controlling the plant on a

short-term basis; however, this practice is not without shortcomings. After

treatment, the dead plant remains in the water which can produce problems

with dissolved oxygen and eutrophication. Herbicide application and effect

can be indiscriminate such that beneficial species might be eliminated along

with the milfoil. Since some of the herbicides are not transported to the

roots (Steward, 1971), they should be placed as close to the root system as

possible. The ecological implications of long-term use of large doses of

herbicides in the water system are not well understood. Therefore, the

practice should be approached with extreme caution.

Mechanical harvesting, if used repeatedly, is effective in controlling

milfoil (Nichols and Cottam, 1972). Cutting is most efficient when done

twice during the summer, shortly before the periods of peak biomass.

Harvesting removes problem biomass from the lake; it can be very selective

as to the area treated; and it can reduce plant growth the subsequent year.

Cleaning small problem areas, such as around docks or swimming beaches,

regularly, with a rake, is also effective.

Habitat manipulation such as overwinter drawdown, dredging and sand

blanketing can also be used to control milfoil. Beard (1969) found

drawdown to be effective in controlling milfoil in the Murphy Flowage,

Rusk County, Wisconsin. The milfoil was probably not the Eurasian

variety, but reports from southern states indicate that drawdown would

have the same impact on Eurasian milfoil (Jarman, 1970). Drawdown may

have to be repeated at varying time intervals, but the results are more

enduring and cheaper than they are with either herbicides or harvesting. If

1975]

Nichols — Eurasian water milfoil

121

dredging were done to a depth below that of the photic zone, it would limit

the growth of milfoil. Dredging is quite expensive, but it may be the best

solution in certain highly critical areas. Sand blanketing involved laying

black plastic on the bottom of lakes and covering it with sand or gravel.

This procedure was used in the Marion Millpond at Marion, Wisconsin

(Born, et al., 1973). It was effective in controlling plant growth for one

season after initial control, but longer term control was not promising.

Generally speaking, the coarser the material used in covering the plastic, the

better the control. Milfoil was not the species of primary concern at

Marion, but the procedure should be effective for milfoil control. The

author achieved spot control of native milfoil during the summer of 1973,

by floating black plastic sheeting on the surface of a farm pond in Richland

County. The plants were killed after 3-4 weeks of shading. In Wisconsin,

the use of herbicides and habitat manipulation procedures require a state

permit.

No specific biological controls of milfoil have been developed that would

be suitable in the Wisconsin area. Research being done on milfoil control in

other areas of the country includes the use of the white amur

(Ctenopharyngodon idella Val.), insect predators, viral attack, and

competition from other aquatic plants. These are certainly interesting

techniques and may provide longer-term control, but presently they are

largely in the experimental stage (Little, 1968).

Eurasian milfoil does contribute to the aquatic eco-system by providing a

low-grade food for water fowl, producing oxygen, acting as a nutrient

filter, and stabilizing hydro-soils. The species is not, therefore, all bad, but

other more desirable species can do the same job. Recent research at the

University of Wisconsin - Madison has indicated that milfoil has about the

same protein content as alfalfa hay; also, it has a high xanthophyll content,

which may make the species commercially valuable at some future time

(Koegel, et al. , 1972).

SUMMARY

The rank growth habit of Eurasian milfoil causes serious problems in

many North American lakes by restricting recreational use of the lake and

by crowding out more desirable species. This milfoil is very similar to the

native variety of the same species, but the two types can be separated with

70% effectiveness, by determining whether the specimen has more or less

than 14 pairs of leaflets.

Although the range of the Eurasian milfoil in Wisconsin is limited, the

species is very aggressive and has the biotic potential to spread rapidly in the

state. A management program needs first to be concerned with restricting

the spread of the species and then with controlling it through habitat

manipulation, or by chemical, mechanical, or biological means.

122

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The author wishes to acknowledge Mr. Brian Marcks and Mr. Scott Mori

for assistance in assembling the plant collections and the University of

Wisconsin - Madison Department of Botany for drafting the figures. Mr

Scott Mori and Dr. Tom Daniel are acknowledged for their critical review

of the manuscript.

The study was funded in part by the Upper Great Lakes Regional

Commission through the Inland Lake Renewal and Management

Demonstration Project.

APPENDIX A

The morphological differences between the two

varieties of Myriophyllum spicatum

The morphological differences between the Eurasian and native varieties of Myriophyllum

spicatum are many, but the most distinctive ones are as follows (Love, 1961): (1) The number

of pairs of leaflets on each primary rachis is usually 14 to 24 in the Eurasian variety and 4 to 14

in the native type (Fernald, 1919 said 14 to 21 and 7 to 1 1). (2) Winter buds are unknown in the

Eurasian type, whereas they are typical of the native variety. (3) The floral bracts are rhombic

to elongate in the Eurasian type, but typically spathulate-ovate in the native type. (4) The

female bracts in the Eurasian type are longer than the fruits, but in the native variety they

rarely equal the fruits in length. (5) The bracteoles are reniform or suborbicular in Eurasian

milfoil, but always ovate in the native variety. (6) The bracteoles are broader than long in

Eurasian milfoil, whereas they are longer than broad or of equal dimensions in length and

breadth in the native variety. (7) The stem of the dried plant is usually fulvous or olivaceous in

color, but it is rarely whitened in the Eurasian variety; it is always distinctly whitened in the

native variety.

The general appearance of these two types is depicted in Fig. 2. Note the difference in the

number of leaflets.

APPENDIX B

The numerical taxonomy of Myriophyllum spicatum plants

Materials and methods

Mass collections of milfoil plants were taken from populations in three Wisconsin lakes. The

lakes sampled were Lake Wingra (T-7-N, R-9-E, sec. 27 and 28), Dane County; Pine Lake

(T-19-N, R-8-E, sec. 11), Waushara County; and Horseshoe Lake (T-17-N, R-22-E, sec. 20),

Manitowoc County. The population from Pine Lake appeared to be all native variety plants;

the population from Horseshoe Lake appeared to be all Eurasian type plants; the population

from Lake Wingra appeared to have a mixture of both types. In fact, the population in Lake

Wingra appeared to have three distinctive types: one type had the appearance of the Eurasian

form and flowered in mid-June; the second type appeared to be the Eurasion form and had a

late July flowering date; the third type had the appearance of the native variety and had a late

July flowering date. Early flowering plants were not found in Horseshoe or Pine Lakes. Each

population was sampled only once during a period from 1968-1971. Each of the three Lake

Wingra types, were, however, sampled. All specimens were pressed and placed on file at the

University of Wisconsin-Madison Herbarium. Twenty-five characters (Table 1) were measured

on each specimen. A total of 85 specimens met all the criteria for analysis.

1975]

Nichols — Eurasian water milfoil

123

FIGURE 2. Photograph of the two varieties of milfoil, a - Native Myriophyllum spicatum var.

exalhescens [Fernald] Jepson. b - Eurasian Myriophyllum spicatum L.

The polythetic agglomerative method described by Orloci (1967) and an R type ordination

were the numerical techniques used in seeking natural groupings of plants. The R. weighting

factors (Table 1) were obtained by doing a Q-type analysis on the 25 attributes in entity space,

using a principal components analysis as described by Orloci (1966).

Results

Neither method of numerical taxonomy would indicate a clear separation of the two

varieties. The agglomerative method tends to group specimens with less than 14 pairs of leaflets

with each other. Those with more than 14 pairs of leaflets are also grouped together (Fig. 3). If

a Q/K value of 16 is arbitrarily used as a cutoff point, eight groups of plants are formed. One

group is made up primarily of plants with less than 14 pairs of leaflets. In the group primarily

containing 13 or less leaflets, 14.8% of the specimens contained 14 or more pairs of leaflets.

The remaining seven groups had a total of 30% of the specimens with less than 14 pairs of

1 24 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences ; A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

TABLE 1: CHARACTERS MEASURED ON MILFOIL PLANTS *

*Only specimens with an inflorescence length over 35 mm were measured. All leaf measurements

were made on the right-hand leaf of the 5th whorl of leaves from the inflorescence. The distance

between leaflets is the distance between the 1st and 2nd leaflets. Inter node length and stem

diameter were measured between the 4th and 5th whorl of leaves. All floral measurements were

made on the lowermost, right-hand flower that showed normal development.

1975]

Nichols— Eurasian water milfoil

125

FIGURE 3. Agglomerative classification of milfoil plants. Location: W - Lake Wingra, P -

Pine Lake, H - Horseshoe Lake, m - Mori collection, ni - Nichols collection, ne -

Nelson collection, R - Read collection.

126

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

leaflets. The two groups with the greatest difference were those that had specimens primarily

from Horseshoe Lake and those early flowering specimens from Lake Wingra. The native

variety plants from Pine Lake and Lake Wingra tended to be lumped together and were

intermediate in variability.

The ordination methods indicated a continuous variation of plants based on the characters

measured (Fig. 4). The ordination axes were divided into quarters and the percentage of plants

with less than 14 leaflets were calculated for each quarter. Plants in Group I had ordination

numbers of less than 240 on the first axis and less than 248 on the second axis: Group II

contained plants from 240 to 300 on Axis I and 248 to 316 on Axis II. Group III plants ranged

from 300 to 360 on Axis I and 316 to 384 on Axis II; Group IV contained the remainder of the

plants. Group I contained the highest percentage of plants with less than 14 leaflets, with

75.7%; 55.2% of the plants in Group II, 22.2% of the plants in Group III and no plants in

Group IV had less than 14 leaflets. Again, there is no clear separation, but there is a continuum

formed between plants with less than 14 leaflets and plants with more than 14 leaflets.

500i —

50

400

50

300

50

200

50

100

100

GROUP

GROUP KL

• i

i

i

GROUP n

—

group i <:

50

200

50

300

50

400

50

1

500

AXIS I

FIGURE 4. R - Ordination of milfoil plants.

1975]

Nichols — Eurasian water milfoil

127

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Beard, T. D. 1969. Impact of an Overwinter Drawdown on the Aquatic Vegetation in Murphy

Flowage, Wisconsin. Res. Rpt. 43. Department Natural Resources, Madison, 16 pp.

Born, S. M., T. L. Wirth, E. Brick and J. O. Peterson. 1973. Restoring the Recreational

Potential of Small Impoundments: The Marion Millpond Experience. Tech. Bull. 71.

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Cottam, G. and S. Nichols. 1970. Changes in Water Environment Resulting from Aquatic

Plant Control. Technical Report OWRR B-019-Wis. University Wisconsin Water Resources

Center, Madison, 27 pp.

Crowell, T. E., J. H. Steenis and J. L. Sincock. 1967. “Recent Observation of Eurasian

Watermilfoil in Cirrituck Sound, North Carolina and other Coastal Southeastern States.”

Mimeo, 8 pp.

Fernald, M. L. 1919. Two new Myriophyllums and a species new to the United States.

Rhodora 21:120-124.

Fernald, M. L. 1945. Incomplete flora of Illinois. Rhodora 47:204-219.

Hutchinson, G.E. 1970. The chemical ecology of three species of Myriophyllum. Limnol.

and Oceanogr. 15:1-5.

Hulten, E. 1947. Flora of Alaska and Yukon. VII. Lund. Hakan Ohlssons Boktryckeri.

Jarman, R. 1970. Eurasian watermilfoil: A new menace to Oklahoma waters. Proc. Oklahoma

Acad. Sci. 49:171-174.

Jepson, W. L. 1925. Manual of the Flowering Plants of California. Assoc. Students Store.

University California, Berkeley, 1238 pp.

Koegel, R., D. Livermore and H. Bruhn. 1972. Improving Surface Water Conditions Through

Control and Disposal of Aquatic Vegetation. Technical Report OWRR B-018-Wis. Univer¬

sity Wisconsin Water Resources Center, Madison, 46 pp.

Little, E. C. S. 1968. The control of water weeds. Weed Res. 8:79-105.

Lind, C. T. and G. Cottam. 1969. The submerged aquatics of University Bay: A study in eutro¬

phication. Amer. Midi. Natr. 81:353-369.

Love, A. 1961. Some notes on Myriophyllum spicatum L. Rhodora 63:139-145.

Nichols, S. 1971. The Distribution and Control of Macrophyte Biomass in Lake Wingra. Tech¬

nical Report OWRR B-019-Wis. University Wisconsin Water Resources Center, Madison,

111pp.

Nichols, S. A., and G. Cottam. 1972. Harvesting as a control for aquatic plants. Water Res.

Bull. 8:1205-1210.

Nichols, S. and S. Mori. 1971. The littoral macrophyte vegetation of Lake Wingra. Trans.

Wis. Acad. Sci. Arts Lett. 59: 107-119.

Orloci, L. 1966. Geometric models in ecology. I. The theory and application of some ordina¬

tion methods. J. Ecol. 54:193-215.

1 28 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

Orloci, L. 1967. An agglomerative method for classification of plant communities. J. Ecol.

55:193-206.

Patten, B. C. 1954. The status of some American species of Myriophyllum as revealed by the

discovery of intergrade materials between M. exalbescens Fern, and M. spicatum L. in New

Jersey. Rhodora 56:213-225.

Patten, B. C. 1956. Notes on the biology of Myriophyllum spicatum L. in a New Jersey lake.

Bull. Torrey Bot. Club 83:5-18.

Springer, P. F., G. F. Beavens and V. D. Stotts. 1966. Eurasian Watermilfoil - A Rapidly

Spreading Pest Plant in Eastern Waters. Northeast Weed Control Conference, Halifax,

Nova Scotia, 1961.

Steenis, J., V. D. Stotts, and C. R. Gillette. 1961. Observations on Distribution and Control of

Eurasian Watermilfoil in Chesapeake Bay. Mimeo, 7 pp.

Steward, K. K. 1971 Translocation of Herbicides in Two Submersed Aquatic Plants. Weed

Science Society America Meetings, Dallas, Texas.

Weber, J. A. 1972. The importance of turions in the propagation of Myriophyllum exalbescens

(Haloragidaceae) in Douglas Lake, Michigan. Mich. Bot. 11:115-121.

A CASE STUDY IN THE DECELTICIZATION OF IRELAND:

THE O’CONORS OF CONNACHT*

Gareth W. Dunleavy

and

Janet Egleson Dunleavy

University Wisconsin —

Milwaukee

PART I: 12th Century to 18th Century

In 1892 Douglas Hyde addressed the National Literary Society of Ireland

on the subject of deanglicization. His lecture before that group is now much

anthologized1. It would not have been necessary had there not been, for

more than 800 years, a corresponding systematic and progressive

decelticization by the English. The story of the decelticization of Ireland

and its effects can be read in the history of the O’Conors of Connacht, an

ancient ruling family which claims descent from Queen Maeve of the Tain

Bo Cualgne of the first century; Turlough Mor O’Conor, “Monarch of

Ireland’’ in the twelfth century; and Rory O’Conor, the last High King of

Ireland, who died in retirement twenty-nine years after the Anglo-Norman

invasion. It is a story of intrigues, of feuds and rivalries fostered by foreign

legates, of loyalties manipulated through reward and confiscation, of bitter

choices between unacceptable alternatives, of petty jealousies and fears, of

greed and ambition, of shifting values, and of imposed stereotypes which

became, to the everlasting dismay of men like Douglas Hyde, self-fulfilling

prophecies believed in and spread by the very men and women who suffered

most from their imposition.

The story began when King Rory O’Conor’s emissaries arrived at

Windsor in 1175, ready to negotiate an agreement with Henry II. They left

with a treaty that proclaimed Rory’s fealty to the King of England. What

Rory O’Conor took to be pro forma submission to a more powerful king

for his lifetime only, following Irish custom, in fact established that the

kings of England should in future be lords paramount of Ireland — and that

all future monarchs of Ireland as well as Irish chieftains or petty kings

should hold their domains as tenants or vassals of the English crown. Rory

obviously did not understand the feudal system in all its bearings. He did

not see, for example, in the words of John O’Donovan, a nineteenth-cen¬

tury chronicler of the O’Conors of Connacht, “that according to this

system of law, on the rebellion or disobedience of any of them, Henry could

deprive. . .[Rory] and his tribe of their territory at his pleasure and grant the

same to his English followers’’2. Reduced in prestige, unable longer to

*Presented December 29, 1973, at the Annual Meeting of the Modern Language Association

(Celtic Section).

129

1 30 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

control O’Conor factions that flouted his authority, Rory soon was forced

into so-called voluntary retirement in the monastery at Cong, while

Connacht was left to the powerful and greedy Norman lords, De Lacy of

Meath and De Courcy of Ulster. Rory’s last humiliation was revolt against

his rule by two of his own sons.

In addition to destroying the prestige of Irish chieftains among their own

people by reducing them to vassalage, the English fostered self-destructive

feuds for plainly political reasons with results of the kind described in Cox’s

Hibernia Anglicana :

As if some malignant star had influenced all the inhabitants of Ireland to contention,

the Irish also quarreled with one another, and M’Dermot of Moylurg encountered the

King of Connaught and slew him and two thousand of his men, whereupon the Lord

Justice was sent over to give an account of this bustle and why he permitted it. . .he

answered that it was no damage to the king that one rebel destroyed another.3

In some cases clearly the English objective was to prevent any possibility of

the emergence of a new Irish High King. For example, when Edward Bruce

arrived in Ireland in 1315, power contests among the O’Conors had left the

kingship of Connacht in dispute for nearly a century. At this point,

however, the Earl of Ulster sought alliance with young Felim O’Conor, who

then claimed the kingship. When Felim’s position was threatened, the

family rival was eliminated with the aid of the Anglo-Norman lord of

Connacht, Richard de Bermingham. But then in August of 1316, when

Felim, grown bold in the position he had been helped to achieve, rebelled

against de Bermingham, he was defeated and slain by English forces.

Within the Pale, that stronghold of English loyalists, the victory thus

won over the Connacht king at the Battle of Athenry was celebrated as a

significant triumph in the campaign to weaken and eventually exterminate

the chieftains of the Great Irishry. Ironically, however, both de

Bermingham and his ally, de Burgo, were husbands of Gaelic Irishwomen.

What was gained in the field in the name of the English was lost in the

bedchamber as more and more Anglo-Normans in Ireland became, in the

words of one complainant, “more Irish than the Irish.” Designed to block

this new threat to English rule, the Statute of Kilkenny was passed in 1366.

It barred English loyalists from speaking the Irish language, taking an Irish

name, wearing an Irish cloak, cutting their hair in the Irish fashion, or even

riding a horse, Irish style4. Almost unenforceable in the fourteenth

century, the Statute was for the most part ignored by those it attempted to

regulate. To the native Irish, however, the intent of the law was clear: they

responded to this attempt to establish apartheid by setting aside their own

private rivalries and uniting against the English in a greater show of strength

and defiance than before. Hugh O’Conor, King of Connacht, joined with

O’Brien of Thomond to defeat the Earl of Desmond, for example. For a

short time it seemed as if English policies had backfired — that what had

been constructed as a strong measure in the continuing campaign of

decelticization had instead unified the Gaels. Quickly, the English returned

1 975] Dunleavy and Dunleavy — Decelticization Ireland 1 3 1

to the more successful methods of divide and conquer which they previously

had applied. The alliance between O’Conor and O’Brien was short-lived;

and O’Conors and O’Briens were encouraged to wage wars disastrous to the

Irish against each other and neighboring chieftains throughout the

fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Meanwhile, having learned that despite

their inability to sustain stable rule in their own territory, the O’Conors

were capable of rallying the Irish in ways that could not be ignored, the

English adopted a different method of dealing with them. In a letter to the

Lords of the English Council in 1569 the English Governor of Connacht

wrote of the area under his jurisdiction:

There rested nothing to be done in that province but the unitinge of the captaines in her

majesties service and the winning of the ancient Castell of Roscoman. . . . but before our

comminge to the house, O’Connor Donne, who long time hath usurped the possession

thereof, offered to resign it, which indeed he did after some speache had with him,

whereby he found there was no means to save himself and his countrie from spoile and

destruction5.

Shortly after this capitulation, a fiant ratified by Queen Elizabeth

confirmed the nomination of O’Conor Don to be “captain of his country,

the castle of Roscommon excepted,” he to hold his title “during good

behavior,” making clear the nature of the “speache” the English Governor

had had with him.

Meanwhile, of course, the English had found a new basis for legal and

military action against the Irish: their refusal to conform to the Anglican

religion. In 1570 the Crown-appointed first “President of Connaught,” Sir

Edward Fytton, inventoried all the land held in the province and according

to State papers quoted by Charles Owen O’Conor in The O’Conors of

Connaught , burned idols and images in Connacht churches, and expelled

the friars6. The president regretted to report, however, that the Irish of

Connacht were “not willing to embrace justice, nor reform themselves to

English government”; nor were they willing to adopt the State religion. A

rebellion termed “civil war” by the English broke out: in 1572 O’Conor

Don was indicted for high treason. The beginning of a more coercive policy

on the part of the English against the Irish chieftains during the last quarter

of the sixteenth century is reported in the Annals of Loch Ce:

... an Act of Parliament was held in Dublin, and several of the Irish who attended it

were hanged, and the rest came away without profit, and a great tribute — viz, an ounce of

gold for every quarter of land — was laid on Connaught, and the sovereignty of each

Gaelic lord was lowered 7.

The Act referred to is that which established the Composition of Connacht,

by which the Gaelic chiefs of the province were made “territorial

magnates,” holding lands not through ancient claims but directly from the

English Crown under English law. Acceptance, of course, implied

acknowledgement of the Crown’s right to grant lands; refusal meant

confiscation. Faced with this devil’s choice, the O’Conors thus became

132 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [ Vol . 63

absolute owners of the land, with inheritance following the English system

of primogeniture rather than the Gaelic system established by ancient

Brehon law. Twin blows had been struck: one extending the authority of the

Crown; the other eroding yet more of the Gaelic tradition in Ireland.

Plagued by dissension and conflict in their own ranks, perceiving any

continuing fight for provincial independence as futile, lacking any concept

of a unified Irish nation, chieftains such as Hugh O’Conor Don continued

to work within the English system in the seventeenth century. Knighthood

was one step in the process; the voluntary surrender of the Fiant and patent

granted under Elizabeth I for a new Fiant and patent regranted by James I

in 161 7 was another. If no longer defiant, the chieftain of the Connacht

O’Conors was not yet completely submissive, however. Until his death in

1632, Sir Hugh employed what influence and power he retained to protect

vulnerable younger sons of other former members of the Gaelic aristocracy

and the Roman Catholic clergy. But his efforts could not stem the tide of

anglicization which flowed all around him. When an Irish chieftain died, his

minor sons were declared wards of the King, and in many cases were taken

to England, where they received an English education and were brought up

in the Protestant faith until they were of age. Then they were returned to

their estates in Ireland, loyal to the Crown, members of the Church of

England. Insidious as it now appears, this practice was not strongly

opposed, probably because its effects were so slow to be felt. While some

leaders of Irish families gathered at the O’Conors’ Ballintobber Castle to

protest existing but not stringently enforced laws against Catholics, and the

Castle itself was known as a haven for Roman Catholic clerics, others

followed a policy of accommodation. Virtually no one spoke out for

Ireland’s Gaelic heritage, although it was more threatened than her

Catholicism.

The growing power of the English Puritan Parliament during the reign of

Charles I alarmed the Irish, however, and Charles O’Conor Don, who

succeeded Sir Hugh, became one of the leaders of a confederation of

Catholic and Irish Connachtmen which met for the purpose of planning

how best to resist this new threat. Their confederation was short-lived.

Following the Rebellion of 1641, in the land confiscation acts of 1642 and

1652, Hugh O’Conor Don, son of Charles, was stripped of his land and was

listed as one of a number of dangerous Irishmen, excluded from all pardon.

He and his son, among many others like them, fled to the Continent, where

they joined the Duke of Gloucester’s regiment which served the exiled

English king, Charles II. Under English kings, the Irish had not fared well;

under Cromwell, clearly their lot would have been far worse had they

remained in Ireland. Their only hope, they believed, was restoration of the

monarchy followed by reward for loyalty to the Crown during the

Cromwellian period.

Restoration of the monarchy, however, brought only slight relief to the

Irish Catholics who had served Charles II. In 1660, approximately

1975]

Dunleavy and Dunleavy — Decelticization Ireland

133

one-tenth of the lands claimed by Hugh O’Conor Don was returned to him.

Additional confiscations further diminished the wealth and influence of

once powerful Irish Catholic families, following the defeat of James II at

the Battle of the Boyne, thirty years later. Caught in a struggle for mere

physical survival, the remnants of the Gaelic aristocracy had little to give to

the preservation of their Gaelic heritage. In 1695 the first of the Penal Laws

was passed: for the next 134 years the struggle of Irish Catholics in Ireland

was no longer to recover what they had lost in land, wealth, influence, and

cultural traditions but merely to retain what little they still had. Gone were

the dreams of once more inaugurating a proud King of Connacht on the

mound at Carnfree, of presenting him with the white wand and fitting him

with the symbolic shoe. Gone were the hopes of new Brehon assemblies on

the hillsides of Connacht. Gone were the poets and satirists who guaranteed

treaties between the kings of Connacht and other provincial kings,

threatening one who would break a treaty with a satire that would shame

him across the land. Donough a Lia, great-grandson of Sir Hugh O’Conor,

lived as a small farmer, tilling the ground at Kilmactranny, Co. Sligo. To

his sons he often said, “Boys, you must not be impudent to the poor.

Remember, I am the son of a gentleman, but you are the sons of a

ploughman”8.

PART II: 18th Century to 20th Century

If the struggle of the native Irish from 1695 to 1829 was not to recover

what they had lost in the twelfth century but to retain what little they had in

the eighteenth, they were by no means unified in their ideas of what should

be protected or how protection could be assured. After the Reformation

the ethnic badges worn by native Irishmen were their Gaelic heritage, on

the one hand, and their restricted Catholicism, with its outlawed bishops

and illegal practices, on the other. While on the surface the Penal Laws

seemed directed against Catholicism, in actual fact they served more to

erode those aspects of Gaelic culture which had been rallying ground for

opponents of English rule in Ireland. Thus in the eighteenth century, the

choices open to the native Irish were these: 1) to relinquish both ethnic

badges and enjoy modest prosperity; 2) to cling only to the ethnic badge of

Catholicism and suffer impoverishment. In neither case was it advisable for

the native Irish to retain or attempt to regain their Gaelic heritage. For

impoverished Catholics, ignorance of English law, language, and customs

rendered them unfit for the only employment opportunities open to them

and their children: service in the Big Houses. For prospering Protestants,

adherence to Irish law, language, and customs invited charges of treason.

At the beginning of the eighteenth century these were the choices faced by

Denis O’Conor, whose brother, father, and uncle had been attainted of

treason for supporting James II in the last years of the seventeenth century.

Too young to have taken part himself in the political struggles espoused by

1 34 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [ Vol . 63

his brother, father, and uncle, Denis — or Donough a Lia, as he was

called — inherited estates which were in part confiscated because of the

family’s political activities, in part encumbered by mortgages made to gain

financial support for the Stuart cause. The owner of these mortgages was

Robert French, a Protestant, whose claims were so great as to make the

inheritance virtually worthless. In a complicated legal suit, however, a

settlement was reached which eventually gave Donough a Lia possession of

a small portion of the O’Conor family lands, subject to a perpetual annual

rent charge. In 1720, he moved from his small leased farm in Kilmactranny,

Co. Sligo, where he, the son of a gentleman, had become a ploughman to

O’Conor lands at Belanagare, Co. Roscommon9.

Donough a Lia had chosen to retain his Catholicism; like most who

shared his situation, he gave up much of his Gaelic heritage. But

Kilmactranny even today is a remote, not easily accessible corner of Sligo,

and Belanagare is not much more in the world’s eye. To Donough a Lia’s

cottage came David O’Duigenan and Cornan O’Cuirnin, Irish poets and

scholars. There also the famous harpist, Turlough O’Carolan, often called

the last of the Irish bards, played and sang. There, too, when he returned

from his frequent illegal trips through the countryside and to the Continent,

stayed Bishop Thady O’Rourke, Donough a Lia’s brother-in-law, with a

price on his head because the Penal Laws outlawed all Catholic bishops in

Ireland. Both English and Irish were the languages of Donough a Lia’s

cottage. His sons’ teachers were their uncle, Bishop O’Rourke, and hedge

schoolmasters, for it was forbidden either to educate Catholic children at

home or to send them abroad to be educated in Penal times. In addition to

English and Irish they learned mathematics, natural history, Latin,

philosophy — all the studies appropriate for gentlemen — while seeming to be

simple farm folk. As young adults, O’Conor children, cousins, and friends

made illegal trips to the Continent to further their education, to study for

the priesthood in Irish colleges in France, or to enter the service of

England’s enemy, the French king10. Had Donough a Lia lived closer to

Dublin, Cork, Limerick, or even Sligo, such a household probably would

have been difficult, if not impossible to maintain.

But clandestine life and limited economic security had their distinct

disadvantages, even in the comparative safety of Connacht, while the

temptation to give up all ethnic badges— to become English and

Protestant — was continually presented to young O’ Conors and other

Irishmen. Hugh, youngest son of Donough a Lia, succumbed, and for a

while it seemed as if (following the provisions of the Penal Laws) he would

supplant his elder brother Charles and inherit his father’s small estate, for

this was the reward held out to children of Catholics. Ironically, Charles

was protected by what until then had seemed a heavy encumbrance: the

perpetual rent charge to the Frenches. He argued that the estate was not

owned entirely by him, that it was merely his under an irredeemable rent

charge, and that therefore the Frenches had both an interest in and title to

1975]

Dunleavy and Dunleavy—Decelticization Ireland

135

the land (in this argument he was, of course, supported by the Frenches).

The matter was settled by agreement: The Frenches continued to receive

their annual rent charges. Hugh and his heirs received sums which further

encumbered the estate (as decelticized Protestants for whom the professions

and other opportunities were opened, they prospered financially in other

ways, too). Charles struggled along at Belanagare, Catholic and Gaelic,

remembering Carolan, O’Cuirnin, and others, watching the spread of

anglicization around him.

By necessity, like his father, Charles O’Conor of Belanagare was a

farmer; by inclination he was a scholar. With his increasingly unique

fluency in written and spoken Irish and the training he had received from

his hedge schoolmaster and Bishop O’Rourke, he set for himself the task of

preserving as much of his Gaelic heritage as he could, collecting

manuscripts where he knew them to be found— sometimes in the cottages of

other families once wealthy and powerful and celebrated by Irish poets,

sometimes in the possession of Irishmen abroad. Among those he added to

the O’ Conor manuscript collection were the Book of O’ Conor Don and the

Book of the Magauran, both dunaire copied by Irish scribes on the

continent in the seventeenth century11. Such collections of eulogistic bardic

poems in their honor had once been the prized possessions of each Irish

chieftain’s family. Charles copied manuscripts he borrowed, annotated

those he studied, exchanged copious notes about manuscripts with other

Irish scholars, and published a number of well-received treatises on Irish

history and related subjects. At the same time, together with Wyse and

Curry, he helped to found the Catholic Association, to try to relieve some

of the sufferings of the Catholics of Ireland12.

Still, as it had flowed and eddied around his father, anglicization

continued in the world around Charles O’Conor, called “The Historian”;

his own elder son, Denis, although intensely concerned with protecting the

family’s Catholicism, absorbed the dominant decelticized attitude toward

things Irish. More affected by his father’s attempts to preserve the family’s

Irishness, Charles’s younger son, also named Charles, and his two sons,

Thomas and Denis, joined the Society of United Irishmen in the hope of

stemming anglicization through political means. Immediately after the

ill-fated Rising of ’98, the two sons left Ireland for the United States; their

father soon followed, dying in New York in 1808. Of the Historian’s elder

son’s many children, only the second son (another Charles), a Catholic

priest trained in Rome, showed any interest in the scholarly work of his

grandfather; his older brother, Owen, heir to Belanagare and to the title

O’Conor Don, worked actively for Catholic Emancipation (Daniel

O’Connell was his close friend and associate) but had no real interest in his

grandfather’s Irish books and manuscripts. As for the Historian’s younger

grandchildren (influenced, no doubt, by their father), they were more

concerned with taking advantage of repeal of the worst of the Penal Laws to

improve their social and economic position than with preserving their

1 36 Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters [Vol. 63

Gaelic heritage. However, another grandson, Mathew, wrote a history of

the Irish Brigades in France. Indeed, when the Duke of Buckingham, a

collector of books and manuscripts, suggested that he might have a

commission in his regiment for a younger son of a family kind enough to

make him a gift of some ancient Irish writings, Denis and most of his

children considered the offer a bargain to be snapped up at once. Only Dr.

Charles O’Conor, the priest, objected — strenuously, insisting on the value

of his grandfather’s work against the sneers of father, brothers, and

cousins. To obtain the manuscripts he coveted, the Duke invited Dr.

Charles O’Conor to become librarian of his valuable collection at Stowe

and chaplain to the Duchess, a Catholic. Disgusted with a father who so

lacked a sense of the past, who seemed nothing but a “Paudeen fumbling in

a greasy till,” Charles accepted the Duke’s offer and — ironically-served

his Irish interests by living out the rest of his life in England13. There he

pored over the treasures of the Irish past that early nineteenth-century

Ireland either ignored or had forgotten; meanwhile, Denis, eldest son of his

elder brother, was being groomed to become the next O’Conor Don, chief

of their ancient family — first in an English boarding school, where he was

mocked for being Irish, then on the Continent, where he spoke of himself as

an Englishman, traveled in English aristocratic society, and sought an

‘‘advantageous match” (a wife who was not necessarily Irish nor even

Catholic, according to his correspondence, but who had to be a young lady

of good social standing and adequate means).

As things turned out, Denis O’Conor did marry the daughter of a

well-to-do Irish Catholic landowner, however, and with prosperity — not

only from his wife’s fortune but also from the rising value of his father’s

successful investments in land — came once again the social status enjoyed

by the O’ Conors of hundreds of years past. When Catholics were admitted

to the professions and to seats in government following Catholic

Emancipation in 1829, Owen was elected to represent Co. Roscommon in

Parliament. When Owen died in 1831, Denis was elected to the same seat. In

Roscommon, as family correspondence indicates14 Irish was not entirely

unknown to Denis and his brother and sisters: phonetically spelled phrases

crop up from time to time in playful, informal letters. But Irish is clearly

not the language of a gentleman, in anyone’s estimation, in the early

nineteenth century. Denis’s accomplishments are his proficiency in Latin,

French, Italian, German, and the King’s English. What becomes proper and

desirable at this time, however, is the family’s aristocratic Gaelic past. The

years of ploughing the land in Kilmactranny are forgotten as genealogists

and historians are asked to delve into ancient manuscripts— the same

manuscripts regarded as worthless by Denis’s grandfather and uncles,

excepting his uncle Charles— to trace the lineage of O’Conor Dons and

kings of Connacht and to validate the family coat of arms. The message

from Englishman to Irishman is clear: for a man who is essentially English

in speech, manners, education, dress, taste, and political sympathies to

claim an ancient and noble Irish heritage is to enhance his position as an

1975] Dunleavy and Dunleavy — Decelticization Ireland 137

English gentleman; for a man who is essentially Irish in speech, manners,

education, dress, taste, and political sympathies to claim an ancient and

noble Irish heritage is to invoke laughter at his folktale foolishness or

suspicion of probable disloyalty. Those who were English in everything but

political sympathies at this time — the educated but rebellious sons of the

Ascendancy who espoused the Irish cause in the nineteenth century, for

example — were regarded as traitors. Those whose nationalism was cultural

rather than political were interesting curiosities in fashionable society if

dilettantes, respected but harmless scholars if serious.

Like the O’Conors, children of affluent Irish families of the nineteenth

century usually had English nannies or French governesses to make sure

that they did not grow up speaking the brogue, in imitation of “Paddy,”

the derogatory name applied to all brogue-speaking Irishmen15. When

Denis O’Conor’s children were old enough for formal education, like him

they were sent first to an English school and then to the Continent, to polish

their manners and their French. Meanwhile, poor children in Ireland often

were beaten in school and at home for speaking Irish: to get along in the

English society of nineteenth-century Ireland, it was necessary to speak

English16.

By 1892, except in the poverty-stricken and isolated areas of the

Gaeltacht, English was the language of Ireland. English law was the law of

the land; English education was the model for Irish schools; English culture

was the dominant culture; London was the intellectual, social, and artistic

center of Ireland’s English-speaking world. To be sure, a few followers of

Thomas Davis and the mid-century young Irelanders still sang songs and

recited poetry about the Irish past (in English); the Irish language, Irish

folklore, and ancient Irish monuments had been discovered by philologists

and antiquarians; some enthusiasts (Charles Owen O’Conor Don and

Douglas Hyde among them) were promoting a Society for the Preservation

of the Irish Language; other enthusiasts were promoting the playing of Irish

games; a group of writers (later acclaimed as founding members of the Irish

Literary Renaissance) were speaking of a Celtic revival; a chair in Irish was

established at Trinity College, Dublin. But these were no longer attempts to

stem the tide of anglicization, but rather evidence that decelticization was

virtually complete. From this point on, as Douglas Hyde recognized,

Ireland would have to undergo a corresponding process of deanglicization if

ever it were to be Gaelic again.

NOTATIONS

1. “The Necessity of De-Anglicising Ireland’’, 1000 Years of Irish Prose , ed. Vivian Mercier

and David H. Green (New York, 1950), pp. 79-89.

2. Quoted by Charles Owen O’Conor Don, The O’Conors of Connaught (Dublin, 1891), p.

73.

3. R. Cox, Hibernia Anglicana, p. 77, quoted in The O’Conors of Connaught, p. 118.

1 3 8 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences » A rts and Letters [ Vol . 63

4. Statutes and Ordinances and Acts of the Parliament of Ireland, King John to Henry V, ed.

H. F. Berry (Dublin, 1907), pp. 431-469.

5. State Papers, A. D. 1569, quoted in The O’ Conors of Connaught , p. 190.

6. The O’Conors of Connaught, p. 186.

7. Annals of Loch Ce', A.D. 1584, quoted in The O’Conors of Connaught, p. 190.

8. J. P. McGarry, The House of O’Connor (Dublin, 1971), p. 28.

9. A very brief summary of this case may be found in The O’Conors of Connaught , pp.

286-290. Documents and letters which spell out the problems faced and the procedures followed

in the settlement are described in the O’Conor Papers. This collection of approximately 18,000

items has been catalogued by the authors, under grants from the American Philosophical

Society, the American Council of Learned Societies, the American Irish Foundation, and the

University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Permission to consult or quote from the Catalog or from

any item in the O’Conor Papers must be obtained from the O’Conor Trustees, Clonalis House,

Castlerea, Co. Roscommon, Ireland.

10. Letters and diaries describing these visits and comments relating to the movements, legal

and illegal, of Bishop O’Rourke may be found in the O’Conor Papers (see 9. above).

1 1 . The Book of O’Conor Don remains with the O’Conor Papers (see 9. above); the Book of

the Magauran has been in the National Library of Ireland since 1972.

12. Manuscripts, diaries, and letters of Charles O’Conor of Belanagare, related to his work as

an antiquarian and his role in the Catholic Association, are in the O’Conor Papers (see 9. above).

13. Working drafts of some of Dr. Charles O’Conor’s manuscripts and much of his

correspondence are preserved in the O’Conor Papers (see 9. above); some of his private papers

are also to be found in the Huntington Library. The manuscripts collected by Charles O’Conor,

The Historian, which Dr. Charles O’Conor took with him to Stowe for the most part are now in

the British Museum Library; some papers and manuscripts are in the Royal Irish Academy.

14. Preserved in the O’ Conor Papers (see 9 above), which are especially rich in materials

related to the social, intellectual, economic, and political history of Ireland in the eighteenth to

twentieth centuries.

15. Cf. Joseph Hone, The Life of George Moore (New York, 1936), pp. 21-22; also Janet

Egleson Dunleavy, George Moore: The Artist’s Vision . The Storyteller’s Art (Lewisburg, Pa.,

1973), p. 25.

16. Cf. Douglas Hyde, Beside the Fire (London, 1890), xlii; also Gareth W. Dunleavy,

Douglas Hyde (Lewisburg, Pa., 1974), p. 59.

CEMETERIES: A SOURCE OF

GEOGRAPHIC INFORMATION

Maurice E. Perret

University Wisconsin —

Stevens Point

Most people show some reticence to visit cemeteries. They enter them

only to see the tombs of relatives or friends or to attend funerals. Once the

feeling of uneasiness is overcome, one may consider a cemetery as a field of

investigation which furnishes many data to scientists. Geologists examine

the tombstones as good samples of rocks, either of local origin or imported,

sometimes from distant countries1. Historians discover some facts from

epitaphs of notable persons. Genealogists often find the only records

relating to some ancestors. Demographers will gather statistics. Sociologists

examine differences between classes and several have published papers on

the subject2. Art historians study the forms and decoration of monuments.

Geographers can make the greatest use of the information offered there.

Up to the present, however, very few studies have been published in this

country. In his article Necrogeography in the United States3, Fred Kniffen

mentions only two papers dealing with the subject in American

geographical periodicals: William D. Pattison’s The Cemeteries of Chicago:

a Phase of Land Utilization4 and Larry W. Price’s Some Results and

Implications of a Cemetery Study5. Since that time, a few papers on

cemeteries have been published: J. B. Jackson’s The Vanishing Epitaph -

From Monument to Place6, Donald C. Jeane’s The Traditional Upland

South Cemetery7, and Richard F. Francaviglia’s The Cemetery as an

Evolving Landscape8, W. G. Hardwick, R. J. Claus and D. C. Rothwell’s

Cemeteries and Urban Land Value9, Donald C. Jeane’s A Plea for the End

of Tombstone-Style Geography10. Some papers brought commentary such

as Eileen Schell’s Letter to the Editor, referring to Cemeteries and Urban

Land Value11, or Francaviglia’s Comment in Reply to A Plea for the End of

Tombstone-Style Geography12. One master’s thesis deals also with

cemeteries: Mark Trembley’s Cemeteries: Diverse Landscape Features in

the San Francisco-Oakland Metropolitan Area13.

One aspect of the cemeteries, however, has been neglected: the

information that they can provide in regard to pioneer settlers and to the

occupation of a region. Often, the settlement forms and agricultural

practices show a diversity of patterns that cannot be attributed to physical

factors but to differences between ethnic groups. For rural areas, historical

data are scarce; the geographer must gather information from all possible

sources, and cemeteries may furnish valuable indications.

139

1 40 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

The field work for this paper was made chiefly in Wisconsin, but the

method can be applied to other regions in the United States and Canada. On

the other hand, it could not be used in countries that have been densely

populated for centuries. In Europe, for instance, the lack of space has

brought different customs. The human remains buried in the ground are not

protected by law. Early graveyards located around churches in villages and

cities have been abandoned as burial grounds, the land being used now for

parks, squares, streets, new buildings. In some countries, graves are

established only for a limited time. After a number of years, a section of a

cemetery is declared obsolete, tombs and their content are removed and the

section is ready for new burials. In some cases, bones are kept in an ossuary;

in other cases they are burnt. The ossuary of Stans, Switzerland, shows

skulls on which have been marked the names for identification.

Rural or small town cemeteries are the most useful source of information

as they often provide data that cannot be found in other places. Cemeteries

in cities also may be useful, but often their size makes them more difficult to

study. Furthermore, in a city, documents such as death records, registers of

naturalization, etc. and books (history, genealogy, directories, etc.) will

offer more material than a cemetery.

Beginning of Settlement in the Area

Rarely is the year of the first establishment in an area known with

certainty. This is the case for the town of Chippewa Falls, a logging

community in Northern Wisconsin. A large tomb bears an inscription: “to

the memory of the valiant pioneer Jean Brunet born in 1791 in Gascony,

France, deceased in 1877 at Chippewa Falls, builder of the first Chippewa

Falls saw mill in 1836“ (Fig. 1) but this does not date his arrival as a

pioneer. In other cases, the dates of arrival of several individuals concur

and one may infer when the settlement started (Figs. 2 and 8). Lacking this

information, one may deduce that the time of the first establishment will be

not long before the date of burial on the oldest graves. The pioneers were

generally healthy people, but the precarious sanitary conditions were hard

on children and in almost any cemetery the first ones to be buried were

children, although their graves are not always identifiable either because

their parents may not have wanted to incur the expense of a monument or

because there was no stonecutter in the vicinity; wooden markers that may

have been used have now vanished. Near Amherst, Wisconsin, a group of

Amish families settled down about fifteen years ago. They established their

own cemetery, which at present contains five tombs of children designated

by wooden markers without inscription and one tomb of a thirty-seven year

old woman who may have died at childbirth. Among old tombs there may

also be some elderly people, parents of the original settlers who came with

them or who joined them later. In many rural areas, a small cemetery

indicates a community of ten or fifteen families who settled together and

1975]

Ferret— Cemeteries: geographic resource

141

Fig. 1. Grave of Jean Brunet, in the Chippewa Falls Catholic Cemetery,

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

Fig. 2. Slab typical of the early tombstones in Woodlawn Cemetery, Green Bay.

1975]

Per ret — Cemeteries: geographic resource

143

one may trace their history and the various generations up to the present

time.

Origin of Settlers

On some tombs there is the indication of birth place (Figs. 2, 6 and 8).

Settlers from the East gave it, occasionally with other details; for instance

one epitaph reads:

JUSTIN G. PINNEY

BORN IN BECKET, MASSACHUSETTS 1805

EMIGRATED TO CRAWFORD CO., PENNA. 1815

SETTLED IN WINDSOR, WISCONSIN 1846

DIED JULY 29, 1863

Most Irish people similarly record their birth place on the tomb — place,

parish and county; Queen’s County and King’s County often mentioned are

now respectively Laoighis (Laois or Leix) County and Offaly County.

Swiss, Welsh and Norwegian people also often state the name of the

birthplace. These people were presumably proud of their origin. (Figs. 3

and 7). Other ethnic groups rarely give such data or at best some general

region like Prussia, Belgium, Bohemia, Europe.

Another way to find out about the origin of a group is by the language

used on the monument. Whenever there is a group of settlers speaking a

foreign tongue, the first epitaphs are in their native language (Figs. 4, 5, 7

and 9). With a little practice, it is possible to distinguish between the various

languages: German, Polish, Swedish, Danish, Dutch, Czech, Croatian,

Welsh, Finnish, French, Spanish, Italian, etc. (See Appendix).

Subsequent Occupation of Land

In some areas, various ethnic groups have succeeded one another on the

same land. By looking at the dates on the tombs and at the ages of the

people buried, one may see who came first, who came later. Near the church

of Saint Patrick, Town of Lanark, Portage County, Wisconsin, the old

tombs are of Irish people whereas the newer ones are of Polish people.

Recent platbooks show that at present only one or two Irish families own

land in the vicinity, the rest being in the hands of Polish farmers.

Process of Assimilation of Foreign Settlers

At first all inscriptions are in foreign languages. Then some families start

to use English, later all families do so but may retain the original language

in a verse. It seems that in some localities English was required. In many

cemeteries where foreign languages were commonly used, English became

144

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

Fig. 3. Grave in the Welsh Cemetery, Caledonia Township, near Portage.

1975]

Per ret — Cemeteries: geographic resource

145

Fig. 4. Tomb with an inscription in Finnish, Municipal Cemetery, Owen.

146

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

'

SB®

if

■■ ■ -X

Fig. 5. Tomb in the cemetery of Polonia. Note the difference in the names between husband

and wife.

1975]

Per ret— Cemeteries: geographic resource

147

the only language after World War I; this is specially noticeable for

German. In regions where Polish or Czech communities are large, the Slavic

languages may be used even today.

Another indication of assimilation is shown by customs special to one

ethnic group. Until the middle of last century, most Scandinavian country

people did not use family names or middle names but simply a given name

and the filiation, Paul Peterson (Paul, son of Peter), Christina

Halvorsdatter (Christina, daughter of Halvor). This usage is still common

in Iceland, but has been abandoned in the other Scandinavian countries.

When Scandinavian settlers came here, some still remained faithful to the

old tradition and we find in the cemetery of New Hope, Portage County,

Wisconsin, a tomb to:

NILS OG MRS MARTHA GRUNDESEN

GRUNDE NILSEN

MIKKE NILSEN

MARTHE NILSDATTER

GINE NILSDATTER

KARL NILSEN

(The parents and their children; the first child is traditionally given the

name of the grandfather).

Polish names have the appropriate masculine, feminine or neuter form

for the family. In the cemetery of Saint Peter, Stevens Point, Wisconsin,

there is a monument to the family LEWANDOSKICH with the name of the

father (Ojciec) JAKOB LEWANDOWSKI and of the mother (Matka)

JOZEFINA LEW ANDO WSKA . The neuter form is not common and in

Polonia, Wisconsin, we find the stone of the KOZYCZKOWSKI family

with TEOFIL E. KOZYCZKOWSKI and MARYANNA KOZYCZ-

KOWSKA (Fig. 5).

Given names are also a clue to the degree of assimilation. Foreign born

individuals have first names characteristic of their country: Bernhard,

Johann, Wilhelm in German, Franciszek, Piotr, Stanislaw in Polish, Ole,

Sven, Thor, Khersti in Scandinavian countries. The immigrants may also

give the same names to their children, but often choose an English

equivalent, for instance John instead of Johann, Jan, Jen, Jean or

Giovanni; Peter for Piotr, Peder, Pierre; Henry for Heinrich or Henri. Or

they may give some English names that may remind them of their native

name: Stanley for Stanislaus, Barney for Barnabas. Many of the first

generation born in this country wanted to show that they were truly

Americans and have nothing to do with their ancestors and they give

American names to their children: Washington, Lincoln, or some English

names like Douglas, Kenneth, Milton. Family names may be changed. In

Somerset, Wisconsin, the catholic cemetery contains French names and one

epitaph states that one boy came with his parents from Canada in 1868. The

evidence of an immigration of French Canadians at that time is further

given by tombs with French names dating from the early 1870ies. There is

148 Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters [Vol. 63

apparently one exception: a large family monument bears the name

“GRANT”; it is, however, the name of a family of French Canadian

origin, as the monument stands in the middle of a family plot and the

tombstone of the father has the inscription “Edouard La Grandeur”; the

name was probably too long and too difficult to pronounce and the children

changed it to Grant. Such changes of names are often visible in cemeteries.

Several versions of the same names, either different spellings or translations

or adaptations, may sometimes be found in the same family plot or in the

same cemetery: Gut and Good, Czecz and Check, Dziurdziela and Jurgella,

Hauer and Hower, Lukaszevicz, Lukasevitch and Lukasavage, Weber and

Weaver. On the monument of the family Mankiewicz, in St. Peter’s

Cemetery, Stevens Point, are listed the names of the parents, one daughter

and one son, Ralph killed in action. Next to the monument is a soldier’s

stone with the indication “Ralph L. Mansavage, Wisconsin, Pvt. 337 Inf.”

One may also note that the group of foreign ethnic origin has mixed with

other groups: sometimes the maiden names of married women are given and

in family plots are sons-in-law, daughters-in-law, grandchildren and other

relatives whose names are testimonies of marriages outside of one group.

Other Indications

Other information may be taken from epitaphs. In Peshtigo, Wisconsin,

a mass grave contains the bodies of unidentified persons who perished in the

fire that swept the area and destroyed the city in 1871, on the same day as

the Chicago fire. Some tombs mention the fact that the deceased person

died in the fire. There may also be references to local disasters, floods,

tornadoes, epidemics. A study of dates may show for some years an

abnormal number of deaths, hinting at some unusual condition. For

instance, in the case of the Grundesen family mentioned above, four small

children died within two months, probably from a contagious disease.

With more caution one may also obtain some ideas on life span for a

definite period or for an ethnic group.

Origin of Place Names

Etymologists often trace the origin of place names to come cities or towns

in England or other countries, or to some illustrious individuals who have

their names in dictionaries or encyclopedias, or to some physical feature

that may be spelled similarly. This may be true in some cases, for instance

for names of important cities such as London, Berlin, Athens, Rome, Paris,

names of presidents and notable army men: Washington, Jefferson,

Lafayette, Custer, or discoverers or prominent citizens in the state:

Columbus, Marquette, Dodge (first governor of the Territory of

Wisconsin). But many names of towns, villages, roads, lakes, streams, were

taken from local residents buried in nearby cemeteries. The Town of Hull,

1975]

Per ret — Cemeteries: geographic resource

149

Portage County, Wisconsin, may have been named after the city of Hull in

England, but it is more likely that it refers to one Mr. Hull who lived in the

area, as some Hulls are found in cemeteries and at present Hulls are still

residents of the county. In the graveyard close to Boelter Lake, there are

graves of the Boelter family. In the cemetery of Gleason, several Gleasons

are buried and the village was probably named after Salem Gleason

(1844-1916). The small place of Altdorf, Wisconsin, could have been named

by German settlers, but who would call a new settlement “Old Town”? It

was named after the city of Altdorf, the seat of Canton Uri, Switzerland,

and in the cemetery of Altdorf, Wisconsin, there is a monument to “Jost

Bissig, born at Altdorf, Kt.Uri, Switzerland” and other monuments to

persons born in other places of Canton Uri, Switzerland.

Caution to be Taken in Conducting a Field Study

The field study in cemeteries may furnish much information but it must

be carefully conducted. Not all former residents of one area or one place are

buried in the local cemetery. Some may have died in a nursing home, a

retirement home, a veterans hospital or in other localities away from their

regular home. All graves are not marked. Monuments are not erected on all

tombs and plain markers for persons who were poor or died without

relatives or friends may have disappeared. At the beginning of settlement in

the Midwest, farmers used to bury their dead in a lot on the farm; these lots

would not be shown on topographic maps and often do not now have

tombstones or markers of any kind. Later there were small graveyards for a

number of farms. Many of these are now abandoned but most are shown on

maps, often under the name of the largest monument, or under the name of

a prominent person buried there: “Lombard Cemetery”, “Pratt

Cemetery”, in Portage County, Wisconsin. Most civil towns have a

municipal cemetery but often there are special burying grounds for

religious denominations: most catholic parishes have their own cemetery;

Jews, Mennonites, Amish, sometimes Lutherans have their separate

cemeteries; special ethnic groups, Welsh, Bohemians, Norwegians,

Germans, may also have their own graveyard, and so have veterans or

inmates of institutions. In Portage County, Wisconsin, with a population of

about forty-eight thousand inhabitants, where the earliest tombstone does

not go back earlier than 1846, there are more than fifty cemeteries.

Local residents will often be willing to indicate the location of cemeteries,

but they are not to be blindly trusted. In one town, a lady was asked about

the cemeteries. She promptly answered: “We have two cemeteries, the

Municipal Cemetery and the Catholic Cemetery” and when asked about

their location, she indicated: “The Municipal Cemetery is right here in

town, the Catholic Cemetery is on the county trunk road, south of town;

you go past a small cemetery, it is three hundred yards further.” Without

noticing it she had mentioned a third cemetery, which proved to be the most

150

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

interesting, as it contained the graves of the pioneers who had come directly

from Denmark about one hundred years ago.

In Watertown, Wisconsin, on the west side of the city, there is a large

cemetery. Most tombs are for Irish people and many stones bear the exact

birthplace, the parish and the county in Ireland. All but three counties of

Ireland (namely Londonderry, Wicklow and Carlow) are represented,

evidence that the Irish people did not emigrate by groups from the same

town or the same district. One might therefore think that Watertown is a

city where the Irish ethnic group predominates, but this is not now the case.

In fact there are hardly any Irish names on the signs of the shops and hardly

an Irish name in the city directory. The Germans are the dominant ethnic

group and, besides a large municipal cemetery, there is a large Lutheran

cemetery and a large Moravian cemetery14. The Irish who came here were

not settlers but worked on railroad construction and often moved with the

work. In other places, Irish people did migrate in groups. In the cemetery of

the town of Erin, Wisconsin, the gravestones of the pioneers indicate that

they all came from two or three parishes in the same Irish county and at

present the same names are found on the mailboxes of the farms in the

vicinity.

How to look for Information in a Cemetery

In a small cemetery with a few score of tombs, one can look at each stone,

but in most places this would take much time and little profit would be

gained. Most interesting are the oldest graves, some monuments to

prominent people, tombs that indicate a foreign heritage. Most cemeteries

are not chronologically organized, but there may be an old and a new

division, or a division for children. Cemeteries are generally divided in

family plots, each containing several graves representing more than one

generation; sections may be reserved to members of religious or military

orders.

At first, it seems a hard task to find the oldest tombs, especially in large

cemeteries, but it is relatively easy. Monuments have a style and styles

change with time. In Wisconsin, the oldest tombstones are white sandstones

or limestones which were found locally and were easy to carve. (Figs. 2 and

6). The earliest style is the rectangular slab common in America since

colonial times. This type is used for monuments in the 1850ies and earlier

and some were still erected after 1860. They usually bear the name of the

deceased, the date of death and the age, often in years, months and days, or

the dates of birth and death. In the case of children or wives, the first name

is on the top line and below is the indication son, daughter, wife of so and

so. Allegoric pictures are often used: weeping willows, hands, doves, roses,

dogs, wreaths; sometimes quotations from the Bible are inscribed, or verses

or an epitaph. During the 1860ies, the inscriptions and the pictures are of

the same type, but the slabs have a rounded or pointed top. Except for

1975]

Per ret — Cemeteries: geographic resource

Fig. 6. Typical of the middle of last century are the tombstones of the two wives of William

Sylvester in the cemetery of Portage.

1 52 Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters [Vol. 63

children who died at the same time or at short intervals and are buried

together, tombs are individual. After 1870, there is a definite change:

obelisks and steles appeared and soon dominated the cemeteries. In catholic

cemeteries, a cross tops them (Fig. 5). In protestant cemeteries there may be

an urn (Fig. 7). Some are for individuals, but most are for families. On one

face are the names of the parents, sometimes with one or two children, on

other faces are names of children and other relatives(Fig. 8); the father’s

name may also be alone on one side and the mother’s name on the opposite

side. Symbols, epitaphs, verses became scarce. Granite started to be used,

especially red granite common in Wisconsin (Montello in the south central

part of the state has a large quarry and several quarries are located in the

northern part). The monuments were taller and about 1900 the obelisks

reached ten or twelve feet. After 1905 the height decreased and the low

blocks for individuals were introduced (Fig. 9). These were often erected

when one of the spouses died but the name of the other spouse, and his date

of birth might be inscribed, leaving in blank the space for the later date of

death. In recent years, lawn cemeteries have been established where only a

plaque for the individual grave lies flat on the ground with name, and dates

of birth and death. These are the most characteristic types of monuments

but there are many others. In Wisconsin, mausoleums are not common,

although some can be found in the larger cities.

Sometimes, monuments do not seem to correspond to the period in which

the burial took place. Some people are conservative and prefer a type no

longer stylish. Some monuments may have been erected years after the

death of the individual or they may reflect a style that was already used in

some parts of the country but not yet locally. This may be the case of the

monument to Emily A. Forsythe, wife of Lieutenant B. D. Forsythe who

died at Fort Vancouver, Oregon, on July 26, 1853, age 17 years, 10 months

and 23 days and was buried with her infant daughter Annie (Fig. 10). The

tomb is in Green Bay, Wisconsin. When a family erects a monument on a

plot and single stones or markers for the individuals, some of those may

replace monuments on graves of persons buried elsewhere and reburied in

the family plot or even may be mere cenotaphs, for instance for

grandparents or small chidren who died before the family had come to the

area.

The information gathered from cemeteries should not, however, be the

only source used for studies of settlement, but one should attempt to find

other data that may confirm what has been found. For instance, consult

public documents such as death and birth records, tax rolls, deeds,

mortgages, preemption certificates, plats, records of naturalization, local

newspapers and magazines. Or one may interview local residents, especially

older persons who have lived for many years in the region and who may be

the descendants of the original settlers. They may possess valuable

documents such as letters, pictures, photographs, certificates of birth,

baptism, marriage, etc. Only by using all possible sources of information,

may one trace the history of a region and obtain a true picture of its

occupation.

1975]

Ferret — Cemeteries: geographic resource

Fig. 7. Tomb with an inscription in Welsh, in the Welsh Cemetery, Caledonia Township, near

Portage.

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

■MM

■ : ■

1111}

Slliliil

S3IIIS®

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Fig. 8. Monument of the Whitney family in the Woodlawn Cemetery, Green Bay. Daniel

Whitney, from New Hampshire, was one of the first Anglo-Saxon settlers in the area.

1975]

Per ret — Cemeteries: geographic resource

155

Fig. 9. Section of St. Hedwig Cemetery, near Thorp. Note the red granite blocks for couples

and the single stones of grey granite, with pictures for father, mother and son.

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

mm

Fig. 10. Tomb of Emily Forsythe and her infant daughter, in Woodlawn Cemetery, Green Bay.

1975]

Perret — Cemeteries: geographic resource

157

NOTATIONS

1. In the cemetery of Nelsonville, Wisconsin, a tombstone bears the inscription “Granite from

Norway.”

2. See W. Kephart, 1950. Status after death. Amer. Sociol. Rev. 15: 635-643; F. Young, 1960.

Graveyards and social stand. Rural Sociol. 25: 446-450.

3. Geographical Rev. 1967, 57: 426-427.

4. Ann. Assn. Amer. Geogrs. 1955, 45: 245.

5. Professional Geogr. 1966, 18: 201-207.

6. Landscape, Winter 1967-68, 17: 19-21.

7. Landscape, 1969, 18: 39-41.

8. Ann. Assn. Amer. Geogrs. 1971, 61: 501-509.

9. Professional Geogr. 1971, 23: 19-21.

10. Ann. Assn. Amer. Geogrs. 1972, 62: 146-148.

11. Professional Geogr. 1971, 23: 376.

12. Ann. Assn. Amer. Geogrs. 1972, 62: 148-149.

13. M. A. Thesis, University California— Berkeley. 1970

14. Moravian, in this case, does not refer to the region but the Moravian Church, a protestant

denomination which had its origin in Moravia but spread to Germany where it represents a

low church, a church of brethern or evangelical church, opposed to the Lutheran church

considered as high church.

APPENDIX

LANGUAGES USED IN EPITAPHS

When epitaphs are in a foreign language, some sentences or words may be clues to the

language and consequently the ethnic group of the deceased.

Some indications are found at the same spot in many epitaphs, especially on older graves.

Heading

Commonly used in German, in French and in Slavic languages, occasionally in others. It is a

line above the name and with the meaning of : “Here lies”, “Here rests in peace” or “In

Memory of”. The following phrases may be observed:

A LA MEMOIRE DE (memoire)

AQUI REPOSA

CI-GIT (Ci-git)

ER COFFADWRIAETH AM

HAR HVILAR (Har Hvilar)

HER HVILER

HIC JACET

HIER RUHET IN FRIEDEN

ICI REPOSE

QUI RIPOSA

R.I.P. (Requiescat in Pace)

TASSA LEPAA (Tassa Lepaa)

TU SPOCZYWA

ZDE ODPOCIVA

: French

: Spanish

: French

: Welsh

: Swedish

: Danish or Norwegian

: Latin (sometimes used for priests)

: German

: French

: Italian

: Latin (often used for catholics)

: Finnish

: Polish

: Czech (Bohemian)

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

Date of birth

It is the first date, when there are two or more, and it is generally preceded by a word meaning

“born”, which has the following equivalents:

It is the date when only one is given. When there are more than one, it is the last (the others

may refer to the birth, the emigration, the wedding, the settling in the area, the ordination for

priests). It is generally preceded by a work meaning “died”, “deceased”, which has the

following equivalents:

1975]

Per ret — Cemeteries: geographic resource

159

MURIO

OVERLEDEN

STARB

STOARM

UMARK(UM)

UMREL (UM)

UMRO (UM)

ZEMREL

ZOMREL

: Spanish

: Dutch or Flemish

: German

: Frisian

: Polish

: Czech (Bohemian)

: Croatian

: Czech (Bohemian)

: Slovac

Age

The word “age” has the following equivalents:

AE (AETAS, AETATIS) :

AGE (age) :

ALDER :

ALTER :

EDAD :

ETA :

IDADE :

IKA (Ika) :

OED :

STARI :

VEK :

VJEK :

WIEK :

Latin (often used on old tombs)

French

Danish, Norwegian, Swedish

German

Spanish

Italian

Portuguese

Finnish

Welsh

Czech (Bohemian)

Czech (Bohemian) or Slovac

Croatian

Polish

are found:

Years

The following equivalents

ANNEES (anees)

ANNI

ANNOS

ANOS

ANS

BLWYDD

JAARE

JAHRE

LATA

LETA

ML

ROKU

Father

The equivalents found are:

APA

ATYA

BABO

FADER

OCE

OJCIEC

OTAC

OTEC

PADRE

PAI

: French

: Italian or Latin

: Portuguese

: Spanish

: French

: Welsh

: Dutch or Flemish

: German

: Polish

: Czech (Bohemian) or Slovac

: Welsh

: Czech (Bohemian) or Polish

: Hungarian

: Hungarian

: Croatian

: Danish, Norwegian or Swedish

: Slovene

: Polish

: Croatian

: Czech (Bohemian) or Slovac

: Italian or Spanish

: Portuguese

[Vol. 63

1975]

Ferret— Cemeteries: geographic resource

161

Husband

The equivalents found are:

EHEMAN^

EPOUX (epoux)

MARIDO

MARITO

MAZ

PRIOD

: German

: French

: Portuguese or Spanish

: Italian

: Polish

: Welsh

Wife

The equivalents found are:

EHEFRAU

EPOUSE (epouse)

ESPOSA

FEMME

FRAU

FRU

FRUE

GATTIN

MOGLIE

MUJER

MULHER

VROUW

ZENA

ZONA

: German

: French

: Portuguese

: French

: German

: Danish or Norwegian

: Swedish

: German

: Italian

: Spanish

: Portuguese

: Dutch or Flemish

: Croatian, Czech (Bohemian) or Slovac

: Polish

Note

As in many languages the inflection of words marks the case, the gender, the number, words in

inscriptions may have different endings than those indicated above; for instance for the

feminine: geborene (geboren), nata (nato, natus), narodena (narodeny), ni£ (ne), zemrela

(zemrel); in Polish, roku is a case of rok and the plural is lata. Other differences may be

attributed to old spellings or simply to ignorance or to mistakes made by the stonecutter who

did not know the language of the inscription he was carving.

Other scripts

If the inscription is not written in roman script, it may be in one of the following alphabets:

Hebrew for Jews; Cyrillic for Bulgarians, Russians, Serbians and Ukrainains; Greek for

Greeks.

PHOSPHOROUS SOURCES FOR THE LOWER MADISON LAKES

William Sonzogni

University Wisconsin — Madison

and

G. Fred Lee

University Texas — Dallas

The Madison lakes, among the most studied lakes in the world, are hard

water eutrophic lakes formed by morainic damming during the most recent

ice age. Four of the lakes, Lake Mendota, L. Monona, L. Waubesa and L.

Kegonsa, form a chain of lakes along the Yahara River as shown in Fig. 1.

The current sewered area of metropolitan Madison and the scheme of flow

of treated wastewater is also shown in Fig. 1 . Lake Mendota is the largest

and deepest of the lakes, followed in order of area and depth by Monona,

Kegonsa and Waubesa. Lake Wingra, the smallest and shallowest, is fed by

spring and urban drainage and drains into L. Monona (Fig. 1). Pertinent

physical characteristics of the lakes are summarized in Table 1.

The phosphorus loading to L. Mendota was recently revised by Sonzogni

and Lee (1974). Also, Kluesener (1972) recently estimated the phosphorus

input to L. Wingra. However, it has been over twenty years since estimates

of the phosphorus loadings to the lower Madison lakes, Monona, Waubesa

and Kegonsa, were made. Since that time, significant diversions of sewage

effluent from each of the lower lakes has occurred. The objective of this

paper is to estimate the phorphorus loading to the lower Madison lakes.

TABLE 1 . PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE MADISON LAKES

(AFTER LAWTON, 1961)

Land Use

Land usage within the basins of these lakes was estimated from maps and

current information provided by the Dane County, Wisconsin, Planning

Department. All incorporated land area was considered to be urban. The

remaining land was categorized as rural, marshland, or woodland, except

162

1975]

Sonzogni and Lew — Phosphorus Madison Lakes

163

FIGURE 1 Map of Madison lakes showing the 1958 diversion and current sewered area.

1 64 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , Arts and Letters [ Vol . 63

that land designated as residential or land used for transportation, utility or

communication purposes was counted as urban. Marshland and woodland

were estimated from a map prepared by the planning department.

Land use within the watersheds of each of the lower lakes is compared in

Table 2. Lake Monona has the highest urban drainage area. Lake Kegonsa

has mostly rural land in its drainage basin.

TABLE 2. APPROXIMATE LAND USE WITHIN THE WATERSHEDS OF THE LOWER

MADISON LAKES

Urban and Rural Runoff

Annual loading rates based on the amount of urban or rural area in the

watershed have been estimated for the Madison area by Sonzogni and Lee

(1974). The loading rate used in this report for urban runoff was 0.64

kg/ha-yr (0.57 lb/ac-yr) for soluble ortho-P and 1.10 kg/ha-yr (0.98

lb/ac-yr) for total-P, while for rural runoff a loading rate of 0.33 kg/ha-yr

(0.30 lb/ac-yr) for soluble ortho-P and 0.67 kg/ha-yr (0.60 lb/ac-yr) for

total-P was used. These loading rates are the best and most current available

for the Madison area and they will be used to calculate the annual loading to

the lower Madison lakes. The basis for the above loading rates is discussed

fully in Sonzogni and Lee (1974).

From the land use information in Table 2 and the above loading rates, the

predicted annual phosphorus input to the lower Madison lakes from rural

and urban runoff has been computed and recorded in Table 3. Lake

Kegonsa receives the largest rural contribution of phosphorus, while L.

Monona receives the largest urban contribution.

TABLE 3. PHOSPHORUS LOADING FROM RURAL AND URBAN RUNOFF FOR THE

LOWER MADISON LAKES

1975] Sonzogni and Lee— Phosphorus Madison Lakes 1 65

Yahara River

The soluble ortho-P loading to L. Monona, L. Waubesa and L. Kegonsa

via the Yahara River has been estimated based on average flow data and

average nutrient concentrations in the outflows of the tributary lakes.

Flow. The only continuous gauging station on the Yahara River is the

U.S.G.S. station near McFarland at the outlet of L. Waubesa. This gauge

has been operating continuously since 1930. Table 4 lists the average

monthly flow data obtained since October 1960 as well as the monthly flow

from May, 1972, through April, 1973.

TABLE 4. YAHARA RIVER FLOW AS MEASURED AT THE USGS GAUGING

STATION AT THE OUTLET OF LAKE WAUBESA

♦Includes Oct 1972 through April, 1973, and May, 1972

Unfortunately, there are no recent discharge measurements for the

Yahara River at the outlet of L. Mendota or L. Monona. Flow from these

lakes was measured in the 1940ies and early 1950ies (Sawyer et al., 1943,

1944; Burgy, 1950; Ketchum, 1954; McCaskey, 1955; Staron, 1956). In

order to estimate the current outflow from L. Mendota and L. Monona, a

ratio of Mendota and Monona outflow to the corresponding Waubesa

outflow (measured at the gauging station near McFarland) was computed

from the historical data. To apply this ratio to recent times, however, it was

necessary to correct the L. Waubesa discharge to account for the loss of

flow to L. Waubesa when the effluent from Madison’s Nine Springs Sewage

Treatment plant was diverted around the Madison lakes in December, 1958.

166

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

This flow was relatively constant at about 20 cfs in the mid 1940ies (Sawyer

et al., 1943, 1944) and 25 cfs in the early 1950ies (Madison Metropolitan

Sewerage District data). The ratios, computed over average flows for 4 mo.

and 8 mo. periods, are given in Table 5. The months were grouped as shown

because over the years the Yahara River flow tends to be low during June

through September and high the remainder of the year. Nutrient

concentrations in the outflow from L. Mendota and L. Monona tend to

follow the same pattern. Furthermore, nutrient concentrations are relatively

constant during each period. Thus, average flows and nutrient

concentrations can be used to obtain a reasonable nutrient loading estimate.

TABLE 5 . RATIO OF LAKE MENDOTA AND L. MONONA TO L. WAUBESA OUTFLOW*

♦Actual L. Waubesa Outflow adjusted by subtracting approximate average flow of the Madison

Nine Springs Sewage Treatment Plant

As can be seen in Table 5, the flow ratios are reasonably constant during

the specified periods. Hence, the average of flow ratios compiled in Table 5

were used to estimate current flow in these lakes based on current flow from

L. Waubesa (Table 3). It is recognized that this is a crude method of

estimating flow from these lakes, but no better alternatives were readily

available.

Nutrients. Soluble orthophosphate (ortho-P) concentrations in the outlet

of the Madison lakes were determined recently at approximately weekly

intervals (longer intervals during winter months) by Fitzgerald et al.,

1973a). Analyses were made by the stannous chloride procedure (Standard

Methods, 1965). Average monthly concentrations of soluble ortho-P in the

outlet water of L. Mendota, L. Monona and L. Waubesa are presented in

Table 6 for the period May, 1972, through April, 1973. The average

concentrations for the period June - September, 1972, and October - May

(May, 1972, October - December, 1972; January - April, 1973) are also

listed in Table 6. As mentioned previously, average monthly concentrations

during the two periods are relatively constant so that use of the average

discharge rates to calculate total loading is not unreasonable for these

waters. Table 6 is based on data reported by Fitzgerald et al. (1973a) as well

as unpublished data of Dr. G. P. Fitzgerald, University of Wisconsin,

Madison.

Phosphorus Loadings. Yahara River soluble ortho-P loadings have been

summarized in Tables 7 and 8. Table 7 shows the monthly and total annual

1975]

Sonzogni and Lee— Phosphorus Madison Lakes

167

TABLE 6. AVERAGE CONCENTRATION OF SOLUBLE ORTHO-P IN THE OUTFLOW

OF LAKES MENDOTA, MONONA AND WAUBESA

output of soluble ortho-P from L. Waubesa. In Table 8, the soluble ortho-P

output of L. Mendota and L. Monona is given during the two periods for

which flow estimates are available. A similar breakdown of the L. Waubesa

outlet data is presented in order to compare the usefulness of using average

flows and concentrations over the 4 and 8 month periods. As can be seen by

comparing the annual soluble ortho-P output for L. Waubesa in Tables 7

TABLE 7. MONTHLY SOLUBLE ORTHO-P LOADING FROM LAKE WAUBESA

OUTLET

168

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

and 8, the use of average concentrations and flows over the periods in Table

8 gave very similar results compared to calculations based on the monthly

periods in Table 7.

TABLE 8. PHOSPHORUS IN THE OUTFLOWS OF LAKES MEDOTA, MONONA AND

WAUBESA BASED ON AVERAGE FLOW AND CONCENTRATION DURING

4 AND 8 MONTH PERIODS

Although the quantity of total-P leaving the lakes was not measured, it is

possible to roughly estimate the total-P output based on the soluble ortho-P

data. According to data collected at the University of Wisconsin Water

Chemistry Laboratory during 1971 and 1972, the total-P concentration was

about 3.9 times greater than the soluble ortho-P concentration in the

epilimnion of L. Mendota during June through September. On the other

hand, during the period October through May, it was only about 1.3 times

greater. Based on these relationships, the quantity of total-P leaving L.

Mendota, L. Monona and L. Waubesa has been calculated and recorded in

Table 8.

While the relationship between total-P and soluble ortho-P in L. Monona

surface water is likely to be similar to that in L. Mendota surface water, the

relationship may not be valid for L. Waubesa. This is because L. Waubesa

is relatively shallow and usually well mixed, while L. Mendota and L.

Monona are dimictic lakes with long periods of stratification. This

difference in stratification pattern could lead to a different relationship

between total-P and soluble ortho-P between Waubesa and the two upper

lakes, Mendota and Monona. However, a limited amount of total-P and

soluble ortho-P data for the outlet water of L. Waubesa reported by

Fitzgerald et al. (1973a) indicate that surface water soluble ortho-P to

total-P ratios for L. Waubesa were similar to those for L. Mendota.

Consequently, the Mendota relationship was used for Waubesa.

As shown in Table 4, flow during the sampling period, October through

April, 1972-1973, was above average. In addition, extremely heavy, high

1975]

Sonzogni and Lee— Phosphorus Madison Lakes

169

intensity rains occurred during March and April, 1973, which caused a

considerable amount of phosphorus to be washed into the lakes. Lake

Mendota, for instance, exhibited a substantially higher soluble ortho-P

content during the spring of 1973 than during recent previous springs. Thus,

the concentrations of soluble ortho-P observed in the outlet water during

March and April, particularly in the outlet water of L. Mendota which has a

very large rural drainage basin, were probably higher than normal.

Consequently, because of the higher than average flows and concentrations

during the year reported, the estimated phosphorus loading from the

Yahara River may be somewhat high compared to a 4 ‘ normal* * year.

Lake Wingra and Stream Base Flow

The outflow from I , Wingra, which forms Murphy Creek and empties

into L. Monona, should also be considered a nutrient source. Recently, the

U.S.G.S. installed a gauging station at the outlet of L. Wingra and flow

data from this station are given in Table 9. The soluble ortho-P

concentration in L. Wingra is relatively constant throughout the year and

averages about 0.005 mg/lP (Armstrong et al., 1972; Kluesener, 1972).

Total phosphorus is also relatively constant and averages about 0.06 mg/1.

Based on these concentrations and the average flow rate, it is estimated that

the outflow from L. Wingra contributes about 20 kg (45 lbs) of total-P to L.

Monona each year.

Other sources which should be mentioned include the several small

streams tributary to the lower lakes (Door Creek, Starkwater Creek, etc.),

since the rural and urban runoff calculations previously discussed do not

include the base flow component of these streams. However, because P

concentrations in base flow (portion of the total tributary flow which is

derived from ground water) are typically low and the flow from these

streams is quite low compared to the Yahara River, they will be ignored as

nutrient sources.

TABLE 9. DISCHARGE, LAKE WINGRA OUTLET (DATA FROM U.S.G.S.)

1 70 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [ Vol . 63

Wastewater Effluent

The only known source of municipal wastewater to the lower Madison

lakes is the Village of Cottage Grove. The Village operates a sewage

stabilization pond which discharges about 19,000 gallons of effluent daily

to L. Kegonsa via Door Creek (Wisconsin DNR, 1971). Assuming a

concentration of 10 mg/1 and 15 mg/1 for soluble ortho-P and total-P,

respectively, about 260 kg (580 lbs/yr) of soluble ortho-P and 395 kg (870

lbs/yr) of total-P are supplied by the treated sewage effluent to L. Kegonsa

each year.

Another waste water source to be considered is discharge from septic

tanks. Although all of the lower lakes are surrounded by houses and

cottages, only those surrounding L. Kegonsa are unsewered and would have

septic tanks in operation. Because phosphorus is readily sorbed by

non-sandy soils, as are found in the Madison area, septic tanks would be a

source of phosphorus only when surface discharge occurs, as a result of the

tanks becoming plugged, or if the P sorption capacity of the soil between

the septic tank tile field and the lake is exceeded.

In estimating this source, the per capita contribution was assumed to be 3

lbs/person for soluble ortho-P and 4.5 Ibs/person for total-P (Sonzogni

and Lee, 1974). Although the population along the shores of L. Kegonsa is

approximately 3,000 during the summer, a population of 500 was assumed

to be annual residents using malfunctioning septic tanks. Thus, about 675

kg (1500 lbs) of soluble ortho-P and 1,000 kg (2,250 lbs) of total-P is

estimated to enter L. Kegonsa each year from septic tanks.

The other potential wastewater sources of phosphorus should be

mentioned. The City of Madison operates a landfill adjacent to Murphy

Creek in a former marshy land which is a ground water discharge area. The

water quality of Murphy Creek is affected by leachate from the landfill

(Wisconsin DNR, 1971), but it is not known how much phosphorus is so

contributed. Another potential source is a lagoon on the grounds of the

Dane County Coliseum which also drains into Murphy Creek. Air

conditioning water from the coliseum is now discharged into the lagoon. It

is not known if the lagoon outfall is a significant source of phosphorus to

Murphy Creek, although phosphate compounds are frequently used in

cooling tower recirculation water to inhibit corrosion and scale formation

(Lee and Stratton, 1972).

Precipitation , Woodland Runoff and Marshland Drainage

Kluesener (1972) measured the nutrient content of rain and snow fall as

well as dry fallout during his study of L. Wingra. He found, based on an

average annual rainfall of about 30 inches, about 0.18 kg/yr-ha lake surface

(0.16 lbs/yr-acre lake surface) of soluble ortho-P and 0.24 kg/yr-ha lake

surface (0.21 lbs/yr-acre lake surface) of total-P could be expected to enter

L. Wingra from atmospheric precipitation. Similarly, the contribution from

1975]

Sonzogni and Lee— Phosphorus Madison Lakes

171

dry fallout was found to be 0.15 kg/yr-ha lake surf. (0.13 lbs/yr-acre lake

surf.) and 0.81 kg/yr-ha lake surf. (0.72 lbs/yr-acre lake surf.) for soluble

ortho-P and total-P, respectively. Assuming his results are typical of the

Madison area, the phosphorus input from these sources for the lower

Madison lakes have been computed as in Table 10.

TABLE 10. PHOSPHORUS LOADING TO THE LOWER MADISON LAKES FROM

ATMOSPHERIC PRECIPITATION AND DRY FALLOUT

Neither woodlands nor marshes are thought to be significant sources of

phosphorus to the lower Madison lakes (see Sonzogni and Lee, 1974).

However, studies of the amounts of nutrients derived from drained marshes

by Bentley (1969) and Amundson (1970), which were summarized by Lee et

al., (1971), have shown that drainage of a marsh can potentially be a

significant source of phosphorus. Laboratory studies have shows that large

amounts of phosphorus can be leached from drained marsh soil over a

period of several years. Since there has been some drainage of marshes

within the watersheds of the lower Madison lakes, this source should be

considered. However, in the absence of information on the extent of

recently drained marshland or the quantity of phosphorus potentially

released, no attempt will be made to include the effects of drained marshes.

Thus the phosphorus input from woodland areas or marshlands was

assumed to be zero.

DISCUSSION

The estimated nutrient loadings to L. Monona, L. Waubesa and L.

Kegonsa are summarized in Table 11. For the Yahara River contribution,

the quantity of soluble ortho-P leaving each lake (Tables 7 and 8) is

assumed to be the same quantity that enters the next lower lake. It can be

seen that the largest source of phosphorus to the lower Madison lakes is the

Yahara River; that is, for each of the lower lakes the outflow from the high¬

est lake in the chain is the principal phosphorus source. In contrast, L.

Mendota, the headwater lake which has a much larger drainage basin than

the lower lakes, receives most of its phosphorus input from rural runoff.

Rural runoff is the second most important source to L. Waubesa and L.

Kegonsa, but for L. Monona urban runoff is the second leading

contributor.

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

[VoL 63

TABLE 11. PHOSPHORUS LOADING TO THE LOWER MADISON LAKES IN KG/YR

♦assumed to be zero

The new nutrient loading estimates for the lower lakes are much lower

than the pre-diversion estimate of Sawyer et al. (1944) who found the

loading (including sewage input) of soluble ortho-P to be 58,700 kg and

53,900 kg for Waubesa and Kegonsa, respectively. Nonetheless, despite this

large reduction in the phosphorus loading, Waubesa and Kegonsa are still

highly eutrophic as discussed previously.

Table 12 shows the phosphorus loading to each of the Madison lakes on a

unit surface area and unit volume basis. As can be seen, L. Waubesa has the

highest unit loading rate, followed by L. Kegonsa, L. Monona and L.

Mendota. The eutrophic status of these lakes, based on the severity and

frequency of obnoxious algal blooms and nuisance weed growth, is in

accordance with this order. Stewart and Hasler (1972) reported a noticeable

decrease in Secchi disk transparency data in going from Mendota to

Monona to Waubesa. Thus, L. Mendota is generally considered to be the

least eutrophic followed by L. Monona, L. Kegonsa and L. Waubesa. The

unit loading rates are particularly high for L. Waubesa and L. Kegonsa

compared to L. Mendota and L. Monona.

Finally it should be emphasized that the estimates of loading rates are

predicated on many assumptions and are, at best, only rough

approximations. Nonetheless, the estimates are believed to be the most

current and reasonable estimates based on the data available.

1975]

Sonzogni and Lee — Phosphorus Madison Lakes

173

TABLE 12. PHOSPHORUS LOADING TO THE LOWER MADISON LAKES PER UNIT

SURFACE AREA AND LAKE VOLUME

Future of the Lower Madison Lakes

It is of interest to examine the potential effect of future alterations of the

watersheds of the lower lakes. The Dane County Planning Commission

(private communication, 1972) has estimated that the urban area within the

L. Mendota watershed will roughly double in size by 1990 (the increase will

vary somewhat according to the growth rate projection used). No estimate

of future urbanization has been made for the lower lakes. However, based

on the loading factors for urban and rural runoff which were discussed

previously, urbanization of rural land will result in a somewhat higher

phosphorus input to the lakes (see Sonzogni and Lee, 1974). Nevertheless,

even if extensive urbanization did take place, the increase in phosphorus

loading would be small compared to the total loading, which is dominated

by the Yahara River input.

Not all conversions of agricultural lands to urban areas would necessarily

result in an increase in nutrient flux since some rural areas, such as heavily

manured lands, could be such that little or no increase occurs upon

urbanization. On the other hand, the effect of urbanization could possibly

be of greater magnitude than expected, if the new urban areas were at one

time marshes, since as was mentioned previously, there is some evidence

that the drainage of marshes could result in a significant release of

phosphorus to the drain water (Lee et al., 1971). This release would

probably take place over a period of several years. Lee et al. (1971) esti¬

mated that marshes of the type found in southeastern Wisconsin could yield

on the order of 45 kilograms of phosphorus per hectare upon drainage.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

This investigation was supported by the U. S. Environmental Protection

Agency Research Grant No. 16010EHR and training grant No. 5T1-WP-22.

In addition, support was given this investigation by Departments of Civil

Engineering at the University of Wisconsin and the University of

Texas-Dallas. We also wish to acknowledge the assistance of the Dane

County Planning Commission.

174

Wisconsin Academy of Sciences ; Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

BIBLIOGRAPHY

American Public Health Association, American Water Works Association and Water Pollution

Control Federation. 1965. Standard Methods for the Examination of Wastewater . 12th

Edition, Amer. Pub. Health Assn., New York.

Amundson, R. W. 1970. Nutrient Availability of a Marsh Drainage. M. S. Thesis, Univ.

Wisconsin-Madison . 56 pp.

Armstrong, D. E., M. G. Rodel, and R. T. Bannerman. 1972. Quantification of Phosphorus

Cycle in Lake Wingra. Eastern Deciduous Forest Biome Memo Report 72-111,

Univ. Wisconsin-Madison. 16 pp.

Bentley, E. M. 1969. The Effects of Marshes on Water Quality. Ph.D. Thesis, Univ. Wisconsin-

Madison. 197 pp.

Burgy, R. H. 1950. Hydrologic Study of Lake Mendota. M. S. Thesis. Univ. Wisconsin-

Madison. 131 pp.

Fitzgerald, G. P., S. L. Faust, and C. R. Nadler. 1973a. Correlations to evaluate the effects of

wastewater phosphorus on receiving waters. Water and Sewage Works 120: 1, 48-55.

Fitzgerald, G. P., P. D. Uttormark, S. L. Faust and C. R. Nadler. 1973b. Application of Algal

Assays to Inland Lake Renewal Projects. EPA Grant 16010 EHR, Water Res. Center, Univ.

Wisconsin-Madison.

Ketchum, R. W. 1954. Hydrologic Summary of Lake Mendota Tributaries. B.S. Thesis, Univ.

Wisconsin-Madison. 119 pp.

Kluesener, J. W. 1972. Nutrient Transport and Transformations in Lake Wingra, Wisconsin.

Ph.D. Thesis. Univ. Wisconsin-Madison. 242 pp.

Lawton, G. W. 1961. Limitation of Nutrients as a Step in Ecological Control. Algae and

Metropolitan Wastes ; Tech. Rept. W61-3, Cincinnati, Ohio pp. 108-117.

Lee, G. F., E. M. Bentley, and R. Amundson. 1971. Effect of marshes on water quality. Proc.

Inter natl. Ecological Assoc., Leningrad, Russia

Lee, G. F. and C. L. Stratton, 1972. Effect of Cooling Blowdown Water on Receiving Water

Quality — A Literature Review. Rept. Water Chemistry Program, Univ. Wisconsin-Madison.

53 pp. mimeo.

McCaskey, A. E. Jr. 1955. Hydrologic Characterizaties of Lake Mendota Drainage Basin.

Ph.D. Thesis, Civil Engin., Univ. Wisconsin-Madison 117 pp.

Sawyer, C. N., J. B. Lackey, and A. T. Lenz. 1943. Investigations of the Odor Nuisance Occur¬

ring in the Madison Lakes, Particularly Lakes Monona, Waubesa and Kegonsa from July

1942 to July 1943. Rept. to Governor’s Committee, State of Wisconsin

Sawyer, C. N., J. B. Lackey, and A. T. Lenz. 1944. Investigations of the Odor Nuisance Occur¬

ring in the Madison Lakes, Particularly Lakes Monona, Waubesa, and Kegonsa from July 1943

to July 1944. Rept. to Governor’s Committee, State of Wisconsin.

Sonzogni, W. C., and G. F. Lee. 1974. Nutrient sources for Lake Mendota- 1972. Trans. Wis.

Acad. Sci. Arts Lett. 62: 133-164.

1975]

Sonzogni and Lee — Phosphorus Madison Lakes

175

Staron, L. A. 1956. Runoff Measurements in the Lake Mendota Basin. B.S. Thesis, Univ.

Wisconsin-Madison, 31 pp.

Stewart, K. M., and A. D. Hasler. 1972. Limnology of some Madison lakes: Annual cycles.

Trans. Wis. Acad. Sci. Arts Lett. 60: 87-123.

Wisconsin Department Natural Resources. 1971. Lower Rock River Pollution Investigation

Survey. February, 1971, 35 pp.

THE IMPACT OF OVERWINTER DRAWDOWN ON THE AQUATIC

VEGETATION OF THE CHIPPEWA FLOWAGE, WISCONSIN

Stanley A. Nichols

University Wisconsin —

Madison

ABSTRACT

The Chippewa Flowage in northwestern Wisconsin has undergone

overwinter drawdown for the past 50 years. A comparison of vegetation

between areas within the flowage where depth of drawdown varies and

between other lakes in northwestern Wisconsin provides insights into the

changes in aquatic plant communities with water level fluctuation.

Increased drawdown decreases the size of the littoral zone and “forces”

species into shallower water. The species composition shifts to species

tolerant of drawdown as drawdown increases. After 50 years of drawdown,

water fluctuation appears to be the “stable” condition in the Chippewa

Flowage.

INTRODUCTION

The Chippewa Flowage, Sawyer County, Wisconsin, is a large

(approximately 6,120 ha) area of interconnected bays, lake basins and

flooded river channels. Various areas of the flowage are affected differently

by water level fluctuation. Some areas have a relatively stable water level, as

surface water connection with the flowage is severed by less than a 1.5 m

drawdown. Other areas can experience as much as 9 m fluctuation in water

level. This continuum of water level change provides a framework on which

to compare the vegetation of various areas within the flowage. In the past,

several surveys have been made on the aquatic vegetation of lakes in

northwestern Wisconsin. These surveys provide baseline information for

comparison with the Chippewa Flowage data.

The flowage was originally licensed in 1921 and was first completely filled

in 1923. It has been operated as a storage reservoir for downstream

hydro-electric power generation, flood control and recreation. Management

practices have involved substantial fluctuations of water level. Winter

drawdown, which begins near the end of October, normally ranges from 3.3

- 6.3 m depending upon hydrologic factors in the watershed. The flowage

refills with the spring flood, and to accommodate recreational users

drawdown in the summer months has been limited to less than one meter.

The Chippewa Flowage offered a unique and perhaps rare opportunity

for this study because of its history of drawdown, its varying water levels

176

1975]

Nichols—Drawdown Chippewa Flowage

177

within one water body and the amount of good information available on the

vegetation of surrounding lakes.

METHODS

Field Methods

The Chippewa Flowage was divided into 20 areas for study (Table 1).

These areas gave a broad geographical coverage of the flowage and

represent a variety of drawdown conditions.

TABLE 1 : RELATIVE FREQUENCY (%) OF MAJOR SPECIES IN FLOWAGE AREAS

o _>

c/5 c/3

Anacharis

21 26 52

61 31

0

8

17

7

0

9

5

1

3

55

species

canadensis

latifolia

Other 19 15 8 7 29 51 8 11

178 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

Within each area, two types of plant data were collected. A

comprehensive species list was compiled by visiting each area and recording

all species encountered, once in midsummer and once in late summer, 1971 .

This procedure provided data on species presence or absence in an area.

A more intensive study was made during the late summer of 1971 to

determine the frequency distribution of the major species in each lake basin.

Sampling was done with a line transect method with a one meter basic

sampling unit (B.S.U.) (Nichols and Mori, 1971) (Fig. 1). In addition, the

length and end point depth of each transect was recorded as a

representation of the length and outer depth of the littoral zone.

Laboratory Analysis

The information was placed in matrices of “presence-absence” and

“relative frequency” data. Information on the vegetation of Callahan Lake

and Nelson Flowage in Sawyer County, the Mondeaux Flowage in Taylor

County, Murphy Flowage in Rusk County, the medium hard water lakes of

Sawyer County and the soft water lakes of Rusk County were also available

to use in these data matrices as comparison areas. Only “presence-absence”

data were available for the Nelson Flowage and the lakes of Rusk and

Sawyer Counties. Frequency data were available for Mondeaux Flowage,

Murphy Flowage and Callahan Lake. These data were available from

personal records. Beard (1969, 1973) described the vegetation of Murphy

Flowage and the data on the Rusk and Sawyer County lakes were available

from the Bordner (1932, 1935) surveys. Both soft and medium water lakes

were used in the comparison because of the alkalinity range found in the

Chippewa Flowage.

Principal components analysis of weighted similarity coefficients (Orloci,

1966) was used to analyze the data matrices for community changes.

Simpson’s Index I- 1 pi2 (Greenberg, 1956; Berger and Parker, 1970) was

used to calculate diversity. Other analyses used standard statistical methods

(Snedecor and Cochran, 1969). Naming of aquatic plant species followed

Fassett (1969).

RESULTS

General considerations

In total, 56 lakes were compared in this study, 20 of which are in the

Chippewa Flowage system. Five additional lakes are flowages; four of these

have stabilized water levels.

One hundred and twelve species of aquatic plants were recorded in the

lakes, 76 of which were found in the Chippewa Flowage system. The

additional 36 species were found in comparison lakes, but not in the

Chippewa Flowage. Of the 36 species not found in the Chippewa Flowage,

five were found where drawdown occurred.

FIGURE 1 Map of Chippewa Flowage showing lake basins and transect sampling areas

1 80 Wisconsin A cade my of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

Table 1 gives the relative frequency of the major plant species in the

various flowage areas. Anacharis canadensis, Glyceria borealis and Najas

flexilis are by far the most common species. A species was listed in Table 1,

if it had a relative frequency of at least 10% in any area of the Flowage.

Nichols (1972) gives a complete list of all the species, their presence or

absence in each lake and their relative frequency in lakes where frequency

data were available.

Drawdown vs outer depth of littoral zone

The depth of the outer limit of the littoral zone (Table 2) was calculated

as the mean outer depth of the transects in each lake basin. Significant

correlation (r = -0.79, 95% confidence level) was found between the depth

of the littoral zone and the amount of drawdown. Generally speaking, the

littoral zone will be shallower with a greater drawdown.

Fluctuating water levels make plant growth in the shallow and deep end

on the normal littoral zone difficult. As the water drops, the shallow area

becomes exposed beach, which is unsuitable for aquatic plant growth. The

deep end of the littoral zone becomes shallower, but plants cannot migrate

fast enough to take advantage of the new condition before they are again

flooded, possibly to a greater water depth.

Amount of open area in littoral zone and diversity

No significant correlation was found between the amount of open area in

the littoral zone and the amount of drawdown.

The Blank Area of the littoral zone (Table 2) refers to the percentage of

open space or in other words B.S.U.s with no vegetation. Because of the

size of the Flowage, the absolute amount of open area was not calculated.

There may be significant differences in the absolute amount of open area in

the lake basins which would correlate with drawdown.

Many lakes with little drawdown tended to have a low diversity

(Simpson’s Diversity, Table 2). However, significant correlation was not

found between drawdown and diversity. Thus, it appears that drawdown

has little impact on community diversity.

Ordination and correlation with drawdown

Ordinations were performed using both presence-absence and relative

frequency data. A complete list of the eigon vector values are presented in

Nichols (1972). The patterns of these ordinations were then correlated with

drawdown.

Drawdown showed significant correlation (r = 0.89, 95% confidence)

with the first axis of the presence-absence ordination and the second axis (r

= 0.80) of the relative frequency ordination. These analyses indicate that

vegetational patterns are influenced by drawdown. The exact nature of

change with regard to amounts and kinds of vegetation cannot, however, be

explored with ordinational analysis.

1975]

Nichols—Drawdown Chippewa Flowage

TABLE 2: List of Lake Descriptions

181

The explanation as to why drawdowns of varying depth, beyond the end

of the normal littoral zone, should affect the plant community differently is

not clear. Ordinational results indicate that the communities are different, a

fact which leads to some interesting questions for further research.

Species considerations

The vegetational patterns observed in the ordinations are a result of

differential species response to drawdown and a variety of other factors.

The common species (those having a 25% occurrence in the 56 stands,

Nichols (1972)) were tested by the chi squared test to determine if they were

occurring more frequently or less frequently than might be expected in areas

where drawdown occurred. The results are summarized in Table 3.

Relative frequency data were also considered to determine if the species

common to drawdown situations were affected differently by the amount of

drawdown. Species with an occurrence in at least 25% of the flowages were

considered. The flowages were lumped into 3-m drawdown classes and the

relative frequencies of the species in each drawdown class were totaled. The

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

data were relativized by dividing the frequencies in each class by the total

frequencies for that particular species. The results are shown in Table 4.

The two methods are generally consistent in picking water level

preference of the species. Pontederia cordata is an exception. One analysis

shows it prefers stable water, yet in the Chippewa Flo wage it was found

most frequently in the lakes with greatest drawdown. It is interesting to note

that species with an emergent life form are generally found more frequently

in severe drawdown conditions.

TABLE 3 : Preference of Common Species to Water Level Stability, (at X20.95)

Species showing preference for fluctuating water levels:

Anacharis canadensis

Glyceria borealis

Leersia oryzoides

Najas flexilis

Polygonum coccineum

Polygonum natans

Potamogeton epihydrous

Species showing preference for stable water levels:

Asclepias incarnata

Brasenia schreberi

Eleocharis acicularis

Nuphar variegatum

Nymphaea tuberosa

Species showing no water level preference:

Ceratophyllum demersum Vallisneria americana

Pontederia cordata

Potamogeton amplifolius

Potentilla palustris

Sagittaria heterophylla

Utricularia vulgaris

Potamogeton foliosus

Potamogeton gramineus

Potamogeton richardsonii

Salix interior

Scirpus validus

Sium suave

Typha latifolia

Three submergent species, Pontamogeton gramineus, Anacharis cana¬

densis and Najas flexilis , had a frequency of 10% or more of all the B.S.U.

sampled. Further analysis by chi squared technique was used to determine if

the depth distribution of the species was altered with increased drawdown.

All three species showed a significant shift to shallower water as the depth

of drawdown increased (Table 5). This information supports the

conclusions drawn earlier about the correlation between drawdown and the

outer limit of the littoral zone.

DISCUSSION AND CONSCLUSIONS

There is little doubt that fluctuating water level places stress on aquatic

plants. Because of the great diversity and adaptability within the plant

kingdom, there is also little doubt that some plants can survive under these

stress conditions, even benefiting at the expense of less adaptable species.

The ordinations performed reflect the community changes from species less

tolerant of drawdown to species more tolerant of drawdown.

1975]

Nichols — Drawdown Chippewa Flowage

183

TABLE 4: Relative Distribution of Major Species by Drawdown Class (Relative Vo)

'species with emergent life form

TABLE 5. Relative Frequency (Vo) Distribution of Plant Species by Water

Depth and Depth of Drawdown.

Water Depth

**X2 significant at 0.95

1 84 Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts and Letters [Vol. 63

Over the period of fifty years it would appear that the plant species have

segregated themselves to the point where drawdown is the “stable”

condition. The variety of plant species in the flowage, for instance, is much

greater now than it was reported to be by Bordner (1932), who mentioned

only 17 species, all of which were found in this study. There is no significant

decrease in diversity with increased drawdown and in fact some of the

highest diversity areas had the greatest amount of drawdown. Greater

variety and diversity indicate greater community stability.

Generally, the stress conditions imposed by drawdown in the Chippewa

Flowage may not be as severe as they might first appear. Although the water

fluctuates drastically, most water level changes do not occur during the

growing season. Exposure of reproductive parts such as seeds is not always

detrimental and may even be beneficial or necessary for germination,

depending on the species.

Over- winter drawdown appears to limit the extent of the littoral zone. As

drawdown increased, the outer depth of the littoral zone became shallower

and the predominant submergent species were forced into shallower water.

This is consistent with information from Beard (1969) and Nichols (1974)

which found that the area occupied by aquatic vegetation was considerably

reduced after an initial over winter drawdown.

In Murphy Flowage Potamogeton robbinsii, Nuphar spp., Ceratophyl-

lum demersum, Myriophyllum spp. and Potamogeton amplifolius showed

the greatest decrease in area after two years of over-winter drawdown;

Megalodanta beckii, Potamogeton diversifolius and Najas flexilis showed

the greatest increase in area (Beard, 1973). In the Chippewa Flowage, Najas

flexilis did well under drawdown conditions. Nuphar variegatum did

poorly, but Ceratophyllum demersum was non-committal. Some species

which Beard (1973) indicated as increasing or decreasing slightly with draw¬

down agreed with Chippewa Flowage data and other species did not. These

data are not necessarily inconsistent, as Beard was dealing with absolute

area to study increase or decrease of a species. Based on relative data a

species may appear to increase, when it actually decreases less than other

species. For such situations it can be said that the species is a more impor¬

tant part of the existing vegetation, but the vegetation does not occupy as

great an absolute area.

Glyceria borealis , Leersia oryzoides, Polygonum natans, Salix interior,

Scirpus validus and Sium suave all showed an increase under drawdown

conditions. These species may have an ecological advantage because they

are emergent species that can survive under both terrestrial and aquatic

situations. They could begin their life cycle on land and still survive

flooding. This habit could also produce bias in the sampling because many

emergent species are normally found in terrestrial situations, and therefore

would not be considered in lists of aquatic plants. Flooding renders these

species aquatic. Some emergent species survive aquatic conditions even

though they may not prefer it.

1975]

Nichols— Dr a wdo wn Ch ippewa Flo wage

185

Asclepias incarnata, Brasenia schreberi, Eleocharis acicularis , Nuphar

variegatum , Nymphaea tuberosa, Potamogeton amplifolius. Potent ilia

palustris and Sagittaria latifolia showed a preference for stabilized water

level. As might be expected, species that prefer stabilized water conditions

are more predominant in areas of lesser drawdown.

Some species appear to be able to recover after repeated water

fluctuation. Anacharis canadensis , Najas flexilis, Potamogeton ameri-

canus , P. foliosus and P. gramineus are species of this type. They occur

more frequently in drawdown classes greater than 0-3 m. It would appear,

therefore, that these species can increase under repeated drawdowns, at

least when compared to other species, although some show initial decrease

in area (Beard, 1969).

Certainly this sort of information is valuable to persons interested in

managing aquatic plants by drawdown techniques. A final question remains

however: What influence do the changes in vegetation caused by water

fluctuation have on higher trophic levels in the aquatic food chain? This

question is not easy to answer and this study is merely a beginning in

answering it.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Beard, T. D. 1969. Impact of an Overwinter Drawdown on the Aquatic Vegetation in Murphy

Fiowage, Wisconsin. Wisconsin Department Natural Resources, Res. Rept. 43, Madison.

16 pp.

Beard, T. D. 1973. Overwinter Drawdown, Impact on the Aquatic Vegetation in Murphy

Fiowage, Wisconsin. Wisconsin Department Natural Resources, Tech. Bull. 61, Madison.

14 pp.

Berger, W. H , and F. L. Parker. 1970. Diversity of planktonic Forminifera in deep sea sedi¬

ments. Science 168: 1345-1347.

Bordner, J. S. 1932. Land Economic Inventory of Northern Wisconsin, Sawyer County. Wis¬

consin Department Agrigulture and Markets. Madison. 69 pp.

Bordner, J. S. 1935. Land Economic Inventory of the State of Wisconsin, Rusk County. Divi¬

sion of Land Economic Inventory, Madison. 52 pp.

Fassett, N. C. 1969. A Manual of Aquatic Plants. University Wisconsin Press, Madison. 405 pp.

Greenberg, J. H. 1956. The measurement of linguistic diversity. Language 32: 109-115.

Nichols, S. A. 1972. The Aquatic Vegetation of the Chippewa Fiowage. Appendix T, Chippewa

Fiowage Investigations. Inland Lake Demonstration Project, Madison, Wisconsin. 44 pp.

Nichols, S. A. 1974. Harvestng and Habitat Manipulation for Aquatic Plant Management: A

Review of Techniques. Wisconsin Department Natural Resources, Tech. Bull. 77, Madison.

34. pp.

Nichols, S. A. and S. Mori. 1971. The littoral macrophyte vegetation of Lake Wingra. Trans.

Wis. Acad. Sci. Arts Lett. 59: 107-119.

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[Vol. 63

Orloci, L. 1966. Geometric models in ecology. I. The theory and application of some

ordination methods. J. Ecol. 54: 193-215.

Snedecor, C.W., and W.C. Cochran. 1969, Statistical Methods. Iowa State Univ. Press.

Amer, la. (6 ed).

ENVIRONMENT AND BEHAVIOR IN THE TRANSITION

OF A WISCONSIN COMMUNITY

James W. Kolka

and

Mary Ellen Kolka

University Wisconsin —

Green Bay

and Madison

INTRODUCTION

This paper analyzes the relationship between the physical environment

and human behavior by examining the chronology of this interface from a

community’s inception in the mid nineteenth century until 1930. Of

particular interest were the several technological modifications which, over

time, altered the impact of environmental conditions on human behavior in

and around the city of Eau Claire, Wisconsin. There were several changes,

dramatic and exceptionally complex. What especially caught our attention

was the transition from a community which had to adapt to environmental

conditions via limited human technologies to a community which, 80 years

later, was a creature of human technologies becoming detached from

environmental conditions. To suggest that the transition was akin to

moving from “God creating man in his own image” to “man creating God

in his own image” overstates the point, but it serves the purpose of alerting

the reader to the potential significance of the transition.

While this particular analysis might find aid and comfort in several

academic disciplines, it is the authors’ preference that it be accorded

recognition in that interdisciplinary realm known as “modernization.” We

realize the use of this term could imply that the transition was beneficial

because it frequently connotes identification with the developmental values

of a twentieth century western type culture, but a caution is in order.

Though the term modernization in our present society often suggests an

inherent “goodness,” we do not so imply. Instead it is viewed as a mixed

dynamic, both a blessing and a curse. In the words of C. E. Black,

“Modern societies, with a greater understanding of their physical and human

environment, have a greater capacity for assuring the material welfare of mankind; yet at

the same time, they face more complex personal and social problems and possess a greater

capacity for violence and destruction”'.

The introduction is complete. With the admitted advantage of hindsight,

denied those citizens whose fate it was to live these events, we shall proceed.

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences , Arts and Letters

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I

This study coveres the time span from 1946 to 1930 and it constitutes a

major transition in the socio-economic growth pattern of Eau Claire,

Wisconsin. In order to provide a sense of place relative to the times, a

description of the community in 1881 in The History of Northern Wisconsin

offers a beginning.

“Eau Claire is a rapidly growing and enterprising city situated on both banks of the

Chippewa River, about sixty miles from its mouth. The river is navigable to the falls,

eleven miles above. It enters the city from the north, having just described in its course a

well defined, but reversed letter S, which has been cut across to secure boomage. The Eau

Claire, a stream perhaps one-third the size, arises in the adjoining counties on the east,

and, receiving accessions north and south, enters the Chippewa at right angles, near the

center of town”2.

From Eau Claire, the Chippewa River wends its way past several small

villages (among them Durand), ultimately flowing into the Mississippi River

with such force that it slows the larger stream creating Lake Pepin, 27,813

acres in size. At this point merchandise was transferred from smaller river

craft to large river steamers or large rafts for distribution to the growing

markets of the middle Mississippi River Valley in the mid nineteenth

century3.

The reader can readily discern the significance of Lake Pepin, since river

travel was the primary transportation system of the Upper Mississippi

Valley in the past century. It still remains to explain why Eau Claire was

chosen as a point for settlement. In spite of the fact that the Chippewa River

is a major watershed for northwestern Wisconsin, in 1850 the stream posed

major obstacles to navigation. The river could be navigated to a falls eleven

miles above the site of Eau Claire, but only during periods of high water.

Consequently, the site offered the best compromise for settlement in that it

could be reached under the worst conditions (low water) by the best existing

technology (i.e., by keelboat which had sufficient size profitably to trans¬

port people and merchandise4). Furthermore, the Chippewa River had

sufficient water volume to transport small river craft because the Eau Claire

River emptied into it in the middle of the proposed site. Whatever resources

existed in the two watersheds could be exploited at a point of maximum

advantage. The location was therefore logical, albeit mandated by

environmental conditions and technological limitations of that era.

There was an external factor too—the growing demands for lumber in the

upper midwest. As a result, the city did not gradually evolve from farm to

village to city as did so many places at that time. Rather it exploded in the

manner of many mining and lumbering communities, in response to

pressures from the larger national society. Prior to the development of

sawmills, the future site of Eau Claire witnessed only a small French fur

trading post in 1784, a small lumbermill north of the area in 1833, and

virtually no agricultural development save for a few subsistence farms in the

1 975] Kolka and Kolka— Wisconsin Community Transition 1 89

1840ies5. Although the city site had been crossed by a few Indian trails, no

major villages were ever located there6. The absence of Indian settlement

was reinforced in 1825 by the Indian Council held at Prairie du Chien, when

the boundary lines were fixed between various tribes, particularly the Sioux

and the Chippewa. Because the line ran through the future site of Eau

Claire, what had been previously uninhabited became a “no man’s land.”

Thus, the white settlement of Eau Claire presented the site with its first

permanent human habitation.

II

In the great push westward across the nation, new communities began

to flourish along the primary transportation arteries, the rivers. By the

1840ies, frontier communities in the middle Mississippi valley in Illinois,

Iowa and Missouri were in search of lumber for construction8. Given this

demand, the immense white pine forests of the Chippewa River valley

offered an obvious attraction. Present estimates indicate that in the early

nineteenth century the Chippewa River watershed contained one-sixth of all

the white pine west of the Appalachians in the United States9.

Approximately 86% of the valley was covered with pine forests10. In 1880

the U. S. Census estimated that fifteen billion board feet of pine was found

in the valley, which constituted more than one-third of Wisconsin’s pine

reserves11. The remaining exploitable vegetation consisted of hardwoods

such as yellow and white birch, maple, oak, hemlock and several varieties of

smaller trees12.

The congruence of factors, a need for lumber, a transportation artery

which linked this need with a rich resource base and the ability to reach the

resource via existing technologies (river steamers and keelboats) made the

site selection fairly obvious. The list is not complete, however, since some

additional factors deserve mention, less significant, but important none the

less: (1) at this same time the state of Wisconsin began to wage a vigorous

campaign to attract settlers to the area; (2) large tracts of Chippewa

pinelands were opened for public sale; (3) capital and management from the

depleted eastern timberlands were in search of new areas for exploitation;

(4) waterfalls on the Eau Claire River offered sites for generating water

power (this should be noted with some caution as a contemporary historian

of Eau Claire suggests that it was less significant than earlier accounts

would lead one to believe); (5) a large oxbow lake (a previous meander of

the Chippewa River) offered an ideal log storage reservoir, in addition to a

large meander in the river in the north part of the city known locally as Dells

Pond. The pond was eventually dammed and used as a reservoir13. Were

this a statistical factor analysis of the siting of Eau Claire, the congruence of

factor loadings would call for a title. With a less quantifiable subject,

suffice it to say the site for a future city was compelling.

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Wisconsin Academy of Sciences ; Arts and Letters

[Vol. 63

III

Attention will now turn to the growth of the community as a center of

lumbering activity. Because Eau Claire began to grow at the far northern

end of a transportation artery, lines of supply were extremely long and

required weeks or months to traverse. The early mills brought into the

community were generally constructed in the east, shipped across country

by lake steamer to Milwaukee, by rail to Prairie du Chien, by river steamer

to the mouth of the Chippewa, reloaded on river keelboats and transported

to Eau Claire14. “With the exception of its indigenous timber resources, the

raw frontier of the Wisconsin pineries provided none of the many articles

necessary to construct and equip such a mill”15.

The rapid growth of sawmills and the awkward transportation routes

created a number of demands which were initially met by mill owners who

found it necessary to begin non-lumbering sidelines. Examples range from

farms for provisioning logging camps to grist mills to supply flour to feed

the lumberjacks16. Even though the original purpose of such sidelines was to

supply logging operations, production frequently exceeded company needs.

As a result, company managers allocated time for disposing of the surplus,

thus earning additional profits17. Although a few mill owners maintained

such sidelines, most discontinued them when food and provisions were

available from a growing number of secondary industries in the 1880ies18.

This phenomenon deserves some attention since the growth of secondary

industries was unique to the time and place of the community's

development. Isolated from sources of supply and sufficiently large to

generate business for support industries, Eau Claire began to attract

persons who made their livelihood provisioning the mills and lumber

camps. In essence, a nineteenth century support threshold was achieved.

Again, it should be remembered that environmental conditions (the river

transportation system and remoteness from alternate sources of supply)

made such secondary industries viable.

Examples of secondary activities reveal the degree of diversification and

specialization which evolved. The largest number of firms were engaged in

provisioning the “loggers;” woolen mills, soap manufacturers, meat

packing companies, breweries, flour mills, grain elevators, food suppliers,

shoe manufacturers, broom manufacturers, feed mills, and farmers who

sold vegetables, meat and dairy products19. In addition, a number of larger

industries engaged in support of the sawmills; construction of mill ma¬

chines, iron works, construction of sawmills, paper supply companies (ledg¬

ers, record books for mill operations), foundry and machine shops (steam

engines, saw blades, mill machinery), and transportation firms20. Finally,

some firms involved in making finished products settled in the city because

of the availability of raw materials; furniture factories, a trunk factory and

mill working firms21. All such activity was logical, given the constraints of

time and place, but the reader should give this aspect of the community's

development special note, as the consequences for Eau Claire would

eventually outweigh the later vicissitudes.

1975]

Kolka and Kolka — Wisconsin Community Transition

191

IV

Having established time, place and activity in the community’s early

development, we now direct attention to Eau Claire’s primary role as a

center for lumbering activity. It is in this realm that the most dramatic

sequence of changes can be found between environment and behavior. In

the fall of the year, lumber camps were constructed in the forest and

provisioned for the winter. As the ground froze and snow came,

lumberjacks worked out of these camps, felling trees and hauling them to

the nearby river bank22. This activity began in late fall (November) and

continued into March, approximately a four month period of mobility in

the forest. In the early lumbering period, 1850-1870, logs were skidded

singly across the snow to the driving stream23. Because of this rather

cumbersome method for hauling logs, lumbering operations were confined

to the vicinity of the driving stream.

Among the first efforts to avoid this environmental constraint was the

improvement of the method of bringing logs to the driving stream. Hauling

roads were iced. In time this practice became fairly systematic. Roadways

would be cleared in late summer and early fall, and ruts gouged to

accommodate sled runners24. As the weather turned cold, water was poured

over the ruts creating an iced roadway which not only withstood temporary

thaws, but was capable of accommodating sled loads which occasionally

exceeded one hundred tons25. Although the practice was used in some areas

as early as the 1870ies, it apparently was not widely employed until the

1880ies. The iced roadways and sled hauling greatly extended operations,

although never more than six to seven miles from the driving stream26.

Another environmental factor was the logging drive down the Chippewa

River and its tributaries. When the streams were free of ice in the spring,

logs were released from bank storage into the water and driven

downstream. “Inadequate rainfall during the spring driving season

destroyed or seriously impaired the drive and caused consternation at the

mill where the lack of logs paralyzed milling operations”27. To overcome

the vagaries of spring weather and erratic stream levels, attempts were made

to control the flow of the driving stream by constructing a series of dams.

This simple technology build up a head of water to refloat and transport

logs downstream. The obstacle of the dam itself was handled by directing

logs through sluices.

In addition to aiding spring log drives, the dam-sluice structures allowed

diversion of logs to reservoirs where they were held in water storage for use

by the various mills. (Directing logs to reservoirs was possible because each

log carried the “stamp” of the parent mill.) The construction of dams also

helped to reduce the danger of floods, which danger was two fold; (1)

during a flood, logs were often carried downstream past the mills and (2) a

flood of water and logs wrecked havoc, destroying riverside mills and

structures28. In fact, during Eau Claire’s history as a logging community,

1 92 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [V ol . 63

several floods did severe damage to the town. While the construction of

dams did not eliminate floods, it certainly helped to reduce their frequency

and severity.

These modifications in logging practice reveal human attempts to reduce

the impact of climate and terrain on logging operations. It would appear

that the environment maintained the upper hand29. In the decade of the

1870ies the balance changed dramatically and a transition began which

transformed logging operations and initiated a series of innovations which

still pulsate through our contemporary society.

The next major change in lumbering operations was a direct product of

human invention. Even though the railroad had begun to replace water and

overland transportation systems in the east and was a major factor in

transporting materials during the Civil War, its impact was not felt in the

Chippewa Valley until 1879. In the spring of that year, the Eau Claire

Lumber Company decided to ship lumber to its various markets by

railroad30, a decision which precipitated a number of modifications in

lumber operations. Where previously rough cut lumber was shipped by

keelboat and river steamer to markets and there finished for use, to ship

such bulk by rail was economically prohibitive. Consequently, the Eau

Claire Lumber Company constructed a planing mill31. By December 1879,

four to five carloads of finished lumber were shipped each day by this one

mill to markets in Kansas and Nebraska32. By the turn of the century, Eau

Claire mills were shipping lumber to markets in Texas, the middle Atlantic

states and New England, which was the largest market for top quality

lumber and the birthplace of many of the mill owners33. But the bulk of the

shipments were still concentrated in the middle Mississippi Valley and the

Great Plains which had been outside the reach of earlier water based

transportation systems34. The change was dramatic. Between 1879 and 1900

the transportation changed from water based to 75% rail in the mid 1890ies

and 100% rail by the early 20th century.

While the railroad transformed the shipment of lumber to markets, it

exerted an even greater influence in the nature of logging operations.

Railroad logging began on a modest basis in the 1850ies in New York and

Pennsylvania and by the latter quarter of the 19th century this technology

spread as far as the state of Michigan35. In 1893 the Daniel Shaw Lumber

Company shipped twenty carloads of logs to its mill in Eau Claire and it was

proclaimed locally that, “the railroad idea has struck Eau Claire”36. This

announcement, modest in tone, masked a far more profound reality. With

the advent of railroad logging, operations were no longer confined to the

driving streams and immediate watershed. By the turn of the century the

Daniel Shaw Lumber Company had extended logging to within fifteen miles

of Lake Superior and the Upper St. Croix River, two entirely different

watersheds.

While the initial practice of railroad logging extended the reach of Eau

Claire based lumber companies into remote and heretofore uncut

1 975] Kolka and Kolka— Wisconsin Community Transition 1 93

timberlands and made it possible to cut and ship timber for the entire year,

instead of just the winter months, by 1900 it was apparent that the white

pine forests of the area were virtually depleted37. All was not completely lost

because the railroad made it possible to begin shipping hardwoods which

had previously exceeded the technological capabilities of logging

operations. “. . .The high density of oak, birch and maple made it

impossible to float their logs down the stream. Hemlock and basswood

would float for a short distance”38. So the remaining varieties of wood fell

prey to the insatiable appetities of the mills. The environmental limits of the

Chippewa Valley watershed and the seasonal rhythms of the Wisconsin

climate which had ruled the logging industry for forty years were at an end.

For better or worse, human interactions with their technologies gained the

upper hand and became the central behavioral dynamic.

V

Before examining the shift of the community’s economy from its primary

to its secondary industrial base, it is helpful to examine the dramatic growth

of the community from the inception of the lumbering era until 1930.

Although the first two sawmills were erected in 1846 and 1848, the popula¬

tion was quite small at that point in time. The earliest population found by

the authors was for 1855 with subsequent growth as follows39:

The above figures graphically illustrate the rapid growth until 1885, when

it first became apparent that the once abundant forests would sustain

logging for only a few more decades40. The sharp drop between 1885 and

1890 and the subsequent slow ascendance to the level of 1930 coincided with

the gradual shift in the city’s economic base.

A comparable examination of statistics on the yearly amount of board

feet of lumber cut, also reveal the growth and decline of the lumber industry

in the city. By one estimate, the Chippewa Valley mills were annually

producing thirty million board feet of lumber in the mid 1850ies, but this

included some mills not in the immediate vicinity of the city41. The earliest

year for which reliable statistics can be found for Eau Claire is 1873. A few

selected years will serve to illustrate how rapid was the growth and decline

1 94 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences , A rts and Letters [Vol. 63

of the lumber industry in the city (the figures are for pine cut in millions of

board feet)42:

It should be emphasized that these figures represent pine cuts, because in

1905 23.6 million board feet of hemlock also were cut in the city43.

Fluctuations in the yearly amount cut are not visible in the above figures,

except for 1876. The leaner years resulted from several factors; floods, mill

fires, low snow fall in the forest impeding movement— to mention a few44.

As is evident, the pine lumber industry reached its peak output in the mid

1880ies and then rapidly declined.

Lumber processed after 1905 was almost entirely from hardwoods, and as

late as 1914, twenty million board feet of lumber was cut in the city45.

However, the end was in sight. In 1929 the last log was cut in the city by the

New Dells Lumber Company. No more timber was available46. The lumber

industry had endured in Eau Claire for eighty-four years, and Eau Claire

had at one time been the largest sawmill city in the world47.

The exact number of mills which operated in the city is difficult to

ascertain, as records are available for only the largest mills. Ownership

changed frequently, new mills were built, companies merged and changed

names. Also, when mills were sold they frequently acquired new names. In

the years 1873-1874 sixteen mills were listed as operating in the city with an

annual production of two million board feet or greater48. Figures for

smaller mills are not available.

The environmental and socio-economic reasons which made Eau Claire a

logical site for logging no longer existed. By the 1890ies the city site

determined the nature of logging operations, rather than logging operations

determining the site as originally had been the case. Even though the need of

a secondary industrial base no longer prevailed (remote location, the nature

of the mid nineteenth century river transportation and inaccessability to

alternate sources of supply), the secondary industries were in place and

represented a sizeable investment. More importantly, they were flexible. -

With the decline of the sawmills, the secondary industrial base began to

overshadow the primary industries in importance. This particular transition

took on new importance and ultimately determined the survival of the social

unit.

1975]

Kolka and Kolka— Wisconsin Community Transition

195

VI

By the 1880ies various segments of the community’s economic and

political leadership were aware that they were exhausting the natural

resource base upon which the city’s economy was built. Vast areas of forest

in the Chippewa River watershed had been leveled and no long term efforts

were being made to systematically perpetuate the lumber economy for

future generations by selective cutting and tree planting. To paraphrase

Kenneth Boulding, a “cowboy economy” had developed where production

and consumption were characterized by reckless and exploitative

behavior49. The natural resource “campsite was soiled” and it would soon

be time to move on.

During the economic depression of 1886, some people in Eau Claire

began to voice a concern about the economic development of the

community50. Editorials argued the need for a more diversified industry to

replace the threatened loss of the sawmills51. To accomplish this end the Eau

Claire Board of Trade, a voluntary businessmen’s organization, was created

to foster economic trade52. The Common Council of the City of Eau Claire

also actively encouraged industrial development53. A third device was the

Eau Claire Commercial Syndicate, created in 188754.

Of the three groups, the City Council was the most active. For a brief

time they engaged in offering financial inducements to firms to locate in the

city. For example, in 1882 the City Council granted a bonus of $5,500 to a

firm if it would move to Eau Claire, and in the period from June, 1887

through October, 1888, the Council granted $58,000 in bonuses to firms

which eventually settled in the city55. Although the inducements were

abandoned after 1888, the Council had been successful in its efforts.

Among the assortment of individuals who migrated to the area during the

lumbering era, several began to function as a viable political unit. The

community was sufficiently large that it did not collapse when the main

industry began to atrophy, as so often happened in smaller lumbering and

mining towns. The efforts to avert economic disaster give some indication

of the socio-political identity which had been achieved in forty years.

It is interesting to note that the “town leaders” perceived themselves as

members of a viable social unit (Eau Claire). The transition of a

conglomeration of human beings migrating to an area to exploit the natural

resources into a functioning social organism is fascinating. The attempts to

avert economic disaster are indicative of the changes which transpired in

forty years.

In addition to attempts to attract new industry, several of the secondary

industries began to produce merchandise for which there was a demand

outside of the lumber companies. A few examples should illustrate: (1) a

company which constructed mills shifted to general contracting, and

highway construction; (2) a company supplying paper products to mills and

lumber camps shifted to general school supplies; (3) a firm manufacturing

1 96 Wisconsin A cademy of Sciences, A rts and Letters [ Vol . 63

mill machinery shifted to structural steel for bridge and building construc¬

tion; (4) the meat packing plants shifted from serving lumber yards to sup¬

plying consumer demands and expanding their area of distribution: (5) a

grocery supply company became a regional wholesale distributor of gro¬

ceries; (6) a hardware supply firm began a regional distribution of hardware

supplies; (7) a mill machine firm shifted to producing small vehicles; (8) one

firm still manufactures sawmill equipment; and (9) the brewery still brews

beer56.

As might be expected, farming grew, new industries were added and the

community became a regional distribution and service center, but the core

of the community’s survival centered on the strong and diverse character of

its secondary industrial base. Save for a paper mill, virtually no remnant of

a lumber culture remained by 1930. The internal transition from a city

which grew in response to environmental conditions to a city focused upon

human technologies was complete.

CONCLUSIONS

Before the reader challenges our observation that Eau Claire is no longer

dependent upon environmental conditions, let us add a disclaimer. The sun

still shines, clouds still bring rain and rivers still flood. It is impossible to

walk outside on a cold winter day and not be reminded that Eau Claire has

long winters. Perhaps not the “nine months of winter and three months of

bad sledding’’ suggested by visitors from warmer climates, but winters none

the less. In sum, the environment exists and we acknowledge its influence.

Putting this aside, the city of Eau Claire did experience a profound

transition from a world in which the environment played a major role in

human behavior to a world based on human technologies which operate in

spite of environmental constraints. The forests which might have provided

several hundred generations of human use were obliterated in 84 years and

will not be resurrected in any manner comparable to their original form.

So much for the past; of importance now is the future. The danger lies in

not learning a lesson from what preceded. As we continue to operate in a

synthetic world of human technologies irrespective of environmental

constraints, we ignore the precarious interdependence with our ecosystem.

We are presently at a point where future environmental assaults threaten the

quality of our survival and for some sections of the world, threaten survival

itself.

While early citizens of Eau Claire may not have realized what they were

doing and it may have been a “rough and tumble” spectacular sort of

beginning, these early entrepreneurs of the lumbering era were poor

forefathers for future generations. Self aggrandizement did something for a

few, but little for the quality of life for most persons. To put this

observation in a present setting, the rapid consumption of prime farm land

for “house, lot and barbeque” enriches a few, provides some housing and