Judge Bell Incidents: King No More
October 16, 2025
Collected & edited by Amorin Mello
This post is the second of a series featuring newspaper items about La Pointe’s infamous Judge John William Bell. Today we explore obituaries of Judge Bell that described his life at La Pointe. Future posts of this series will feature articles about the late Judge Bell written by his son-in-law George Francis Thomas née Gilbert Fayette Thomas a.k.a G.F.T.
… continued from King of the Apostle Islands.
King of the Apostle Islands No More
ASHLAND, Wis., Dec. 31. – Judge Bell, known far and wide as “King of the Apostle Islands,” died yesterday. For nearly half a century he governed what was practically a little monarchy in the wilderness. He was 83 years old, and was the oldest living settler on the historic spot where Marquette founded his mission, two hundred years ago.
KING OF THE ISLANDS.
Judge Bell,
“King of the Apostle Islands,”
Has Given Up His Crown.
The Oldest Living Pioneer
of the Historic Spot
Dies in Apparent Poverty,
Special to the Globe.
ASHLAND, Wis., – “The king of the Apostle islands” is dead. He passed away at an early hour this morning at La Pointe, on Madeline, the largest of the group, where he has lived for forty-four years, the oldest living pioneer of the historic spot where Pere Marquette founded his little Indian mission 200 years ago. Judge Bell was a character in the early history of the Lake Superior region, known far and wide as the “king” of the country known as La Pointe, which was organized in 1846 by Judge Bell. The area of the country was as large as many states of the Union, its borders including nearly all of Wisconsin north of the Chippewa river, the Apostle islands and to an almost
ENDLESS DISTANCE WEST.

Wisconsin Historical Society’s copy of Lyman Warren’s 1834 “Map of La Pointe” from the American Fur Company Papers at New York Historical Society.
The population of whites consisted only of a small handful of French voyagers, traders and trappers, most of whom rendezvous at La Pointe. The country was hardly known by the state, and Bell’s county was practically a young monarchy. He bossed everything and everybody, but in such a way that every Indian and every white was his friend and follower. Judge Bell came here in 1832, from Canada, in the employ of the American Fur company, which at that time was a power here. He had rarely left the island, except in years gone by to make occasional pilgrimages through the settlements. During his eventful life he held every office in the county, and for many years, served as county judge. He was a man of great native ability, possessed of a courage that controlled the rough element which surrounded him in the early days when there was no law except his will. He was honest, fearless,
A NATURAL-BORN RULER
of men, and through his efforts the poor and needy were cared for, and in no instance did he fail to befriend them. For this reason among those who survive him, and who lived in the good old pioneer days, all were his firm friends. His power departed only when the advance guard of civilization reached the great inland sea, through the medium of the iron horse, and opened a new era in the history of the new Wisconsin. For many years he has been old and feeble and has suffered for the comforts of life, having become a charge upon the town. He squandered thousands for the people and died poor but not friendless. He was eighty-three years of age.
ANOTHER PIONEER GONE
DEATH OF “SQUIRE” BELL, “THE KING OF LAPOINTE.”
Sketch of the Life of the Oldest Settler in the Lake Superior Region.
He comes to La Pointe With John Jacob Astor for the American Fur Co.
Judge John W. Bell died Friday morning at seven o’clock at his home at La Pointe, on Madeline Island, aged eighty-four years.

1847 PLSS survey map detailing the mouth of Iron River at what is now Silver City, Michigan along the east entrance to the Porcupine Mountains.
John W. Bell was born in New York City on May 3, 1803, and was consequently eighty-four years and seven months old. He learnt the trade of a cooper, and in this capacity in the year 1835, he came to the Lake superior country for the United States Fur company. He first settled at the mouth of Iron river, in Michigan, about twenty miles west of Ontonagon. Here, at that time, was one of the principal trading and fishing posts of the American Fur company, La Pointe being its headquarters. Remaining at Iron river for a few years, he came to La Pointe about 1840, where he continued to reside till the time of his death.

1845 United States map by John Dower, with the northernmost area of Wisconsin Territory that became La Pointe County.
At the time he came upon this lake its shores were an unbroken wilderness. At the Sault was a United States fort, but from the foot of Lake Superior to the Pacific ocean, no white settlement existed. The American and Northwest Fur companies were lords of this vast empire, and their trading posts and a few mission stations connected with them, held control. A small detachment of United States soldiers formed the distant outposts of Ft. Snelling. The state of Wisconsin had not been organized. No municipal government existed upon this lake. It was many years before Wisconsin was organized.

1845 United States map by J. Calvin Smith, with the original 1845 boundaries of La Pointe County added in red outline.
“beginning at the mouth of Muddy Island river [on the Mississippi River], thence running in a direct line to Yellow Lake, and from thence to Lake Courterille, so to intersect the eastern boundary line at that place, of the county of St Croix, thence to the nearest point on the west fork of Montreal river, thence down said river to Lake Superior.”
Finally the county of La Pointe was formed, embracing all Wisconsin bordering upon the lake and extending to town forty north. “Squire Bell,” as he was always called, became one of the county as well as town officers of the town and county of La Pointe, and for more than thirty years continued to hold office, being at different times chairman of supervisors, register of deeds, justice of the peace, clerk of the circuit court and county judge. This last office he held for many years.
He was a man of genial nature and robust frame. About four years ago, while in Ashland he fell and fractured his thigh, and was never able to walk again. His sufferings from this accident were great and his pleasant face was never seen again in Ashland. He enjoyed the esteem and friendship of his neighbors, so far as is known without exception. He was clear headed and of commanding appearance. His influence among the Indians and the French who for many years were the only inhabitants in the country was very great, and continued to the last. For years his dictum was the last resort for the settlement of the quarrels in this primitive community, and it seems to have been just and satisfactory. He was often called “The King of La Pointe,” and for years no one disputed his supremacy.

Edwin Ellis, M.D.
Dr. Edwin Ellis, of this city, said in speaking of the dead old pioneer:
“Thus one by one the early settlers are passing away, and ere long an entirely new generation will occupy the old haunts. He will rest upon the beautiful isle overlooking Chequamegon bay, where the landscape has been familiar to him for more than a generation. We a little longer linger on the shores of time, waiting the summons to cross the river. While we consign the body of an old friend to the earth we will in all heartfelt sorrow say: ‘Requiescat in Pace.'”
The Lake Superior Monarch
Judge Bell, the ‘king of the Apostle islands,’ who died the other day on Madeline Island at the age of eighty-three, was a conspicuous character in the early history of the Lake Superior region. He was the “king” of the county known as La Pointe, which was organized in 1846 by himself. The county was as large as many states of the Union, its borders including nearly all of Wisconsin north of the Chippewa river, the Apostle islands, and to an almost endless distance west. The white population consisted of a handful of French voyagers, traders and trappers, most of whom made their rendezvous at La Pointe. The country was hardly known by the state, and Bell’s realm was practically a little monarchy. He “bossed” everything and everybody, but in such a way that every Indian and every white was his friend and follower. Judge Bell rarely left the island except to make occasional pilgrimages through the settlements. During his eventful life he held every office in the county, and of late years had served as county judge. He was a man of great native ability, and was possessed of a courage that controlled the rough element that surrounded him in the early days when there was no law except his will. He was an honest, fearless, natural-born ruler of men. Through his efforts the poor and needy were cared for. His power departed only when the advanced guard of civilization reached the great inland sea. For many years he had been feeble, and of late had become a charge upon the town. He spent thousands upon the people.
To be continued in Fooled the Austrian Brothers…
Edwin Ellis Incidents: Number VII
April 9, 2023
Collected & edited by Amorin Mello

Originally published in the August 25th, 1877, issue of The Ashland Press. Transcribed with permission from Ashland Narratives by K. Wallin and published in 2013 by Straddle Creek Co.
… continued from Number VI.

Plat of Prentice’s Addition to Ashland:
“It is in this addition, that, the Chippewa River and the St. Croix Indian trails reach the Bay.”
My Dear Press: – Recollections of Ashland which should forget to mention Martin Roehm, would leave out a material part – in truth a connecting link in the “chain of events.” He came to the Bay in the summer of 1856 – a hearty industrious young man, not many years from the “Fader Land.” He pre-empted a quarter section of land near the town site – which he still owns. He was not long in discovering the worth and beauty of a comely young widow, who, like himself, had left the “Fader Land” to improve her worldly condition. – After a somewhat lengthy courtship, they were married by “Esquire Bell” in their own home. The ruins of the house may be seen in Prentice’s Addition on the flats between “town” and the mouth of Fish Creek. The bride herself cooked with her own hands the marriage feast, while the guests were gathering. The ceremony was concluded by a grand gallopade, the music being under the direction of that master of the Terpsichorean art, Conrad Goeltz, assisted by his brother Adam, himself a master of the art.
Martin and his worthy wife still live in Ashland, having witnessed and participated in its varied fortunes for more than twenty years. They may be said to form the connecting link between the Old and New Ashland; for when all others had been, by the force of circumstance, compelled to abandon their homes, they alone remained “monarchs of all they surveyed.” They were in possession of an improved estate in their beautiful valley of Marengo twelve miles from Ashland. This was their favorite winter retreat; while upon the shores of the bay their palaces exceeded in number the residences of the richest kings of the old world. For years they were sovereigns alone, in possession of territory rivaling in extent some of the Kingdoms of Europe.
Their herds of cattle increased year by year and in time patriarchal style, were driven from one part of the vast estate to another, as the necessities of forage might require.
And now, although the revival of Ashland has somewhat restricted the extent of Martin’s possessions, he still owns a valuable herd of cows, and finds a sure source of revenue in the milk supply of Ashland, to the mutual satisfaction of his patrons and himself. His experiments have shown that our soil and climate are adapted to cattle raising and dairy purposes.
Robert D. Boyd, unknown to most of the present generation, came to Ashland in 1855. He was a native of the island of Mackinac – the son of an Indian Agent there stationed. His father was connected by marriage with a distinguished ex-President, to whom he owed his appointment. Rob’t D. as the report was, had, from the effects of a sudden outbreak of passion been guilty of a high crime, and to escape the penalty of the law, had fled to Lake Superior – then almost inaccessible – and safe from invasions of sheriffs and wicked men of that sort. At La Pointe he married a French mixed blood girl by the name of Cadotte, by whom he had several children. Except when under the influence of liquor, his conduct was good and his manner gentlemanly and polite. When partially intoxicated he was thought to be somewhat dangerous if not desperate.

Detail of settlement at Boyd Creek from Augustus Barber’s 1855 survey:
“There is a house in the NE quarter and another in the SE quarter of Section 25.”
He laid claim to a piece of land on the west side of the bay opposite to Ashland, of which a plat was made, to which he gave the name of “Menard,” in memory of the lamented French Jesuit Priest, who, according to tradition, labored for a while at an Indian village then located at this spot, – the point where the old St. Croix Indian trail reached the water of the Great Lake, and which in early years was a well beaten path – but now deserted. No traces of the village are now visible. The storms of nearly two hundred and fifty winters have obliterated all traces, of what from its position, must have been an important point among the Ojibwas of the northwest. According to the tradition, Father Menard left the bay for a missionary tour inland, from which he never returned and no trace of him was ever found.

La Pointe County Deeds Book A Page 577:
Plat of Mesnard
Surveyed, certified, and recorded in 1857 by Edward L. Baker, as power of attorney for Thomas H. Hogan of La Pointe:
“the SE¼ of the SW¼, the SW¼ of the SE¼, and Lot 3 in Section 24, and Lots 1 & 2 and the NE¼ of the NW¼ and west½ half of the NW¼ of Section 25, all in Township 48 North of Range 5 West of the 4th principal meridian of the State of Wisconsin“
Boyd erected a house in 1857 in the western part of Beaser’s Division which still stands, but unoccupied.

Wisconsin Representative Asaph Whittlesey also wrote about this tragedy.
In the latter part of 1857 he became unusually dispirited; his drunken sprees became frequent and long continued; and he was often under arrest for his disorderly and quarrelsome conduct. Finally in January 1858 he fell into a drunken debauch of several days duration. He was then living in the old log cabin on Main Street – Mr. Whittlesey’s first house – with one bachelor companion by the name of Cross. Having passed the night in drunken carousals, in the early morning – irritated by some real or imaginary insult from Cross – he approached the latter with a drawn butcher knife in his hand, holding it up in a threatening manner, as if about to strike. Cross drew a revolver and fired – two balls passed into the chest – one entering the heart. Boyd fell and in five minutes had breathed his last. This tragic event produced a profound sensation in our little community. A coroner’s inquest was held by Asaph Whittlesey, then a justice of the peace, – and although the evidence seemed to show that Cross might have retreated and saved himself without taking Boyd’s life, still Cross was judged by the jury to have acted in self-defense and was acquitted, Boyd’s known desperate character doubtless contributed to this result.
Boyd’s wife had died some years before, and several children were left orphans; and the writer will always carry in his mind the affecting scene as the little daughter three years old was held up in the arms of Mrs. Angus to take a last view of, and imprint a last kiss on the cold brow of her only natural protector. But God – who is ever the Father of the fatherless, – took care of the orphans, and they are now grown up to manhood and womanhood, and twenty years have effaced from most the memory of this sad event.
To be continued in Number VIII…
Edwin Ellis Incidents: Number VI
April 13, 2022
By Amorin Mello

Originally published in the August 11th, 1877, issue of The Ashland Press. Transcribed with permission from Ashland Narratives by K. Wallin and published in 2013 by Straddle Creek Co.
… continued from Number V.
EARLY RECOLLECTIONS OF ASHLAND
“OF WHICH I WAS A PART.”
Number VI

Edwin Ellis, M.D.
photograph from Magazine of Western History: Volume IX, No.1, page 20.
My Dear Press: – The history of the first attempt at dock building was told in a former chapter, and also the sudden disappearance of the dock one night in April, 1855.
The early settlers did not, upon their first arrival here, have any fair appreciation of the difficulties in the way of constructing docks, which should be able to resist the several forces to which they would be exposed, and which would certainly tend to their overthrow. They had not had, as this generation has, the advantage of years of observation of the force of ice as affected by winds, as floating in great fields and driven by wind and tide, nor of the great force arising from expansion. We now understand better what is the strength of these destructive forces. Some of us watched them with intense and eager anxiety for years; for no commercial town could be here built up without docks.
It may not be uninteresting to consider in a few words, the varying modes in which the heavy accumulation of ice, during our long winters, is got rid of in the spring, and navigation opened.
Some seasons the water in the bay seems to stand at the same level, not moving by winds or tides for many days in succession. The ice melts away under the rays of the sun and by the warmth of the south wind. It is a slow but gentle process. Any dock is safe in such a season. At other times there are sudden and great changes in the elevation of the surface of the ice or water, either from the force of wind on the open water in the outside lake, or from barometric pressure, or both combined, a great influx of water is driven under the ice into the bay. At that juncture the ice having been melted away near the shore all around the bay, the whole mass is lifted up several inches and held us on the top of a great wave. But the reflux of the water must soon occur – when this great field of ice moves down upon a heavy grade. Its speed will often be accelerated by a strong southwest wind. The force thus generated is well-nigh irresistible unless there be such a conformation of the shore as shall save the dock from its full effect, and such, fortunately, is the case with our shore.
Another force, also operating with great power and effect upon the first docks built here and from which they suffered severely, was the expansive power of ice, resulting from changes of temperature. The water in early winter freezes with level surface and is fast to both shores. But as the cold becomes more intense and the ice thickens, it also sensibly expands, and crowds with great power upon the shore. It is easy to perceive that docks fully exposed to this force would need to be very firmly bolted together, and covered with heavy loads, or they must be pushed over. Our docks were thus in the more exposed cribs, broken, and afterwards easily carried away by floating ice and waves. Our first docks having been carried away; though somewhat alarmed, we did not at once give up.

Martin Beaser
portrait from Magazine of Western History: Volume IX, No.1, page 24.
In December 1855, two docks were commenced, one called the Bay City Dock, near the sash factory – and the other at the foot of Main Street in Beaser’s Division of Ashland, in front of the present residence of James A. Wilson. This last was built by Mr. Beaser. His plan was to build cribs with flattened timber, fitted closely together so as to hold the clay with which they were filled as ballast, instead of rock, for rock could only be obtained at great cost. We had no steam tugs then, with which to tow scows, as at present. The cribs were carried out some five or six hundred feet and filled with clay. Stringers connected the cribs, over which poles were laid as a roadway.
The Bay City Dock was also built out into deep water with an L running east. The cribs near the shore were filled with rocks, but for want of time the outer cribs and the L were not filled before the spring break up. The cribs were, however, constructed with stringers and covered, and some two hundred cords of cord wood were piled upon the dock to prevent the moving of the cribs.
The ice in the bay had not moved, but was melted away and broken up for a few hundred feet from the shore. There was a great influx of water from the Lake, raising the whole body of the ice. In a short time there was a greater reflux of the water, and the vast field of ice was seen to be in motion. All eyes were watching the docks, nor was it needed to watch long. Mr. Beaser’s was the first to give way. The cribs did not seem to offer any resistance to the moving mass. The most of them were carried away in less time than it takes to describe it. Only a few cribs near the shore escaped.
Nor was the attack on Bay City Dock long delayed; steadily onward came the mass. And the outer portion was soon in ruins, and the great pile of wood was floating upon the water. The cribs forming the approach for about three hundred feet, being filled with rock were not carried away. Thus in one hour were swept away the labors of many months, and several thousand dollars. The sight was discouraging to men who had come here to make their homes, and whose all was involved in the ruins. The elements seemed in league against us. The next day the steamer Superior arrived and effected a landing upon the broken timbers of our dock. Capt. Jones was in command of her, who, together with his boat were soon to go down in death beneath the waters of the Great Lake.

1860 photograph of the steamer Lady Elgin from the Chicago History Museum and digitized by Ship-Wrecks.net
During the summer and fall of 1856 the Bay City Dock was repaired and extended further into the bay, and the cribs filled with rocks, and the steamer Lady Elgin made several landings alongside. But during the winter of 1856 and ’57 the expansive power of the ice, showing against the cribs pushed off the timbers at the water line of several of the outer cribs, which, at the opening of navigation in 1857, were carried away, leaving only sunken cribs. The dock was never rebuilt, as the financial storm of 1857 began already to lower upon us. The sunken cribs still remain, as has been proved by the exploration of Capts. Patrick and Davidson, in command of the tugs Eva Wadsworth and Agate.
The experience of the “new Ashland” have demonstrated that pile docks can be built so as successfully to resist all the opposing forces to which they are exposed. The result of all our experience seems to show that the best dock which can be built is the pile dock filled in between piles with logs or slabs, or what would be better to drive piles close together, capping them and filling in with rocks which will, beyond doubt, be done so soon as our Penoka iron mountains shall be worked. The time when, must depend upon an improved demand for iron.
To be continued in Number VII…
Asaph Whittlesey Incidents: Number VI
April 17, 2019
By Amorin Mello

Originally published in the March 23, 1878, issue of The Ashland Press. Transcribed with permission from Ashland Narratives by K. Wallin and published in 2013 by Straddle Creek Co.
… continued from Number V.
Early Recollections of Ashland: Number VI
by Asaph Whittlesey
—
During 1856 the steamers Lady Elgin, Illinois, and Superior landed freight and passengers upon a steamboat dock constructed at Bay City, now Ellis division of Ashland.

1860 photograph of the sidewheel steamer Lady Elgin.
~ Ship-Wrecks.net
Ashland’s first saloon was opened by James Whitney in June 1856, and during the same month the first store was opened by Martin Beaser, on the corner of block one hundred and one.
The patent to Ashland, issued by the United States, bears the date June 23rd, 1862.

Land patent for the town site of Ashland issued by President Abraham Lincoln on June 23rd, 1862 to Schuyler Goff:
“The contract between the three was, that Mr. Whittlesey and Mr. Kilborn were to receive each an eighth interest in the land, while the residue was to go to Mr. Beaser. The patent for the land was issued to Schuyler Goff, as county Judge of La Pointe county, Wisconsin, who was the trustee for the three men, under the law then governing the location of town sites.”
~ Biographic sketch of Martin Beaser
OF THE OPENING OF ROADS IN THE EARLY DAYS OF ASHLAND.
In reporting upon this subject it is very possible that our town authorities of the present day may be put somewhat to the blush by the manner in which these and other like improvements were made. And I will guarantee the re-election of any Town Board, or other town officer who will carry out the program of former days for the opening of roads, which was simply this:
Whenever a road was needed such men as Edwin Elllis, Martin Beaser, George Kilbourn and myself, (I came near overlooking the latter,) and others who mainly volunteered their work, shouldered their axes and served in person until roads contemplated were completed. There was also this peculiarity attached to this class of individuals; they did not hang about the steps of the town house the balance of the year for the purpose of getting bills audited for work done upon the highways. It was in this manner that the road leading to Odanah and also that leading south to White River Falls were first opened. Even Indians partook of the same spirit in volunteering their labor, as Aid-de-camp to their Great Leader, Rev. L. H. Wheeler.
I have no doubt Dr. Ellis still bears in mind how the woods at Bear Trap were made to echo the yells of the Indians as they collided with the party from Ashland on the very day agreed upon, and I think I may safely say that the citizens of Odanah and of Ashland looked upon the opening of this road as a momentous event, and one which cemented us together even more firmly as friends and neighbors, though I have no doubt many of my readers will stand ready to declare that the foot race existed not very far back.

Detail of trail from Ashland to Bad River on Barbers’ survey during the Summer of 1855.
We wore good countenances, slept well nights, and paid one hundred cents on the dollar of our obligations. We were not ashamed to eat salt pork (those of us who could get it,) while our faithful wives vied with each other in the different styles of cooking this staple article of diet.
Next to this comes the everlasting pancake, without which neither town site nor pre-emptions could be legally established.
~ History of the Soo Line by James Lyden, chapter 9.
~ History of Northern Wisconsin by the Western Historical Company, 1881, page 82.
On the second day of June, 1877, I had the honor of driving the last spike, which took place at Chippewa Station, amid the shoutings of a large assemblage of people, including laborers upon the road, and in a few moments thereafter the first train from Milwaukee passed over the road on its way to Ashland, amid great rejoicing and demonstrations of joy over the victory won. At Ashland also the excitement became intense and though it was late on a Saturday evening on which our train reached the town, the illumination of the place brought to our view a field of faces, crazy with excitement over the event they were celebration. As for myself, I confess I felt very much like saying, “Now let thy servant depart in peace.” No longer were we to be informed of what was to be done, but we now knew it to be actually accomplished, and the Wisconsin Central Railroad remained a standing monument to the good name of Gardner Colby, Charles L. Colby and E. B. Phillips, all other efforts being secondary to that of these individuals. I have in my possession a map of this section of country, published by Charles C. Tucker in 1858, on which he laid down an imaginary line of railroad as being likely to be constructed from Madison via Portage and Stevens Point to Ashland, and strange to say it lays down the precise route of the Wisconsin Central Railroad, the very first to be constructed.
Having received by our last mail an important official statement from the Railroad Commissioner for the State of Wisconsin, I will insert the same here rather than to fail to have it published:
He says “the number of miles of railroad now constructed within the State of Wisconsin is two thousand six hundred and fifty-nine and 6-100, while there are seventy-one thousand seven hundred and fifty-nine miles of railroad now operated within the United States, with a capital and debt amounting to four billion six hundred and fifty-eight million two hundred and eight thousand six hundred and thirty dollars.”
STATISTICS IN GENERAL
In furnishing these I desire specially to acknowledge the obligation I am under to Mrs. James Wilson, for granting me access to early records of the place kept by Martin Beaser, Esq., though I find some discrepancies between his record and my own, which I think can be explained by the fact that he did not commence his record until some years after the first settlement of the place, and made it from memory along. For instance he says “the town site of Ashland was located by Martin Beaser, Asaph Whittlesey and George Kilbourn in August, 1854,” whereas Mr. Kilbourn and myself commenced the settlement of the town site July 5th, while Mr. Beaser first visited the place in August when he became an owner therein, the town site being from this time forward owned three fourths by Martin Beaser and one eighth each Kilbourn and Whittlesey.
Again Mr. Beaser’s record states that “the first house was built by Asaph Whittlesey in October, 1854, and was twenty by thirty feet square,” while the fact is I had erected two cabins upon the town site previous to the erection of this one and had lived in them.
Following cabin built by Kilbourn and Whittlesey, foundation laid July 5th, 1854, was twelve by fourteen feet square and was erected on lot number two in block one hundred and five. The foundation to the second cabin built was laid by Kilbourn and Whittlesey Sept. 9th 1854. This cabin was thirteen by fifteen feet square and was erected on lot five of block six. The outline of this building may still be traced. – The third house erected was that erected by Asaph Whittlesey on lot six in block six and was twenty by thirty feet square and this building constituted the residence of the Whittlesey family until the fall of 1857 when I removed to what is known as the Tompkins house on lots five and six in block three. I have in my possession very correct sketches of the first three cabins built, which I hope eventually to have lithographed for preservation. The fourth house was erected by Conrad Goeltz. The fifth house by Martin Beaser. The sixth house by Myron Tompkins. The seventh house by Lawrence Farley. The eighth house by Charles Malmet. The ninth house by Anthony Fisher. The tenth house by Frederick Bauman. Beyond this I am unable to give the order in which buildings were erected.
Conrad and Adam Goeltz first arrived at Ashland in March, 1855, and were employed by me in chopping and delivering cord wood upon the bay shore. As we were without a team we improvised one by harnessing these two Dutchmen and myself in the form of a spike team to a large sized hand-sled with which we banked twenty cords of wood per day.
P.S. – Adam had it twenty-two cords per day, but I think we had better throw off the two cords and try to save our reputation for veracity.
The first chickens brought into town were those brought by A. Whittlesey from Ohio in 1854.
John Beck butchered the first hogs in town, though he left a few which he did not butcher.
Martin Beaser brought the first yoke of oxen, and in 1855 raised about two hundred bushels of potatoes upon the town site. On the third of December, 1855, the schooner Algonquin landed at Ashland two hundred and twenty-five barrels of freight, seventy-five thousand feet of lumber and a yoke of oxen.
Ashland Bay froze over Dec. 7th, 1855. The two first steamboat docks were built during the winter of 1855-6, one by Martin Beaser at the foot of Main Street and one by the Bay City Company. These were carried away by the ice May 1st, 1856.
To be continued in Number VII…
Edwin Ellis Incidents: Number III
April 9, 2017
By Amorin Mello

Originally published in the July 7th, 1877, issue of The Ashland Press. Transcribed with permission from Ashland Narratives by K. Wallin and published in 2013 by Straddle Creek Co.
… continued from Number II.
EARLY RECOLLECTIONS OF ASHLAND.
“OF WHICH I WAS A PART.”
Number III
Dear Press: – My last jottings brought us to the sweeping away of the first dock ever attempted in Ashland, April 1, 1855. Before relating any of the further attempts in the construction of docks, I will recall the names of some of the settlers who came here in 1855 to 1856.
1. George Kilbourn was then over fifty years old, from the Western Reserve, Ohio – a man of great energy and iron constitution, whose greatest joy was hard work, (and if we had a few hundred such men in our country now, who were not afraid to dive into our forests and open farms, the success of Ashland would soon be assured), and who was ever battling with the woods in this, his new home. No one man who ever came to Ashland ever did half as much as he did, with his own strong arm, to clear up our beautiful town site. His favorite spot is now occupied by the house built by Alex. Livingston, Esq. Ashland was “Uncle George’s” pet, and he loved it with an undying love, and when stricken down by death a few years since, he was on his way from Ohio to Ashland. He merits a monument, and his name should always be held in grateful remembrance.

Asaph Whittlesey was Charles Whittlesey’s younger brother.
~ Wisconsin Historical Society
2. Asaph Whittlesey, then about thirty years of age, a native of Ohio, but who had for several years been engaged in business in Peoria, Ill., where the fruits of years of toil were swept away by fire in a single hour, was, in 1854, looking for a place to try anew his fortune. He belonged to one of the oldest and most respectable families of the Buckeye State – an energetic, lively, genial, whole-souled man, whom to know is to esteem. He was active in all the early years of Ashland; was its first Postmaster, (when the office bore his name) in compliment to his venerable uncle, the Hon. Elisha Whittlesey, for many years connected with the U.S. Treasury. And though he now resides at Bayfield, his interests are still largely in our town, and his pleasant face still occasionally gladdens our homes. In his present ill health he has our heartfelt sympathies. May he soon be well again and may his iter ad coctum be postponed yet many years.
~ The Eye of the North-west: First Annual Report of the Statistician of Superior, Wisconsin by Frank Abial Flower, 1890, page 251.
Mrs. Whittlesey, with her mother, Mrs. Haskell, were the first white women who passed the winter on this shore. Her house, though built of logs, was neat and comfortable, and was the resort of all new confers, where we were all made welcome; and the writer will always remember her singing of “The little tailor with the broadcloth under his arm,” and the dancing of her little Eugenia, a flaxen-haired girl of two year, but who, in later years, matured into a beautiful and accomplished woman, and happily settled in life, was, in 1874, called to the “sweet fields beyond the swelling flood.” Mrs. Whittlesey endured much privation, but she was brave and full of life. She is still spared to adorn and cheer her pleasant home at Bayfield.
Her father, Mr. Haskell, who passed the first winter in Mr. Whittlesey’s family, died a few years ago, but Mrs. Haskell still lives in green old age, and in 1875 re-visited the scenes of her pioneer life.

Martin Beaser
~ Western Reserve Historical Society
3. Martin Beaser, though he did not bring his family to Ashland till 1856, he is entitled, nevertheless, to be ranked among the very first settlers of Ashland, for he had chosen this for his home in 1854; had aided by his means and counsel, Messrs. Whittlesey and Kilbourn, and came from Ontonagon several times during the year 1855 to assist in carrying out their plans. He employed and brought with him early in 1855, Dr. Brunschweiler, a Civil Engineer, who surveyed and platted the first site on this bay, which is now known as “Old Ashland” or “Beaser’s Division of Ashland.” Brunschweiler River, twelve miles from Ashland, perpetuates his name.
Mr. Beaser was a native of the State of New York, who, in early life, had passed several years on a whaler in the Pacific Ocean and being an acute observer of men and things, had accumulated a vast amount of useful and entertaining knowledge. He was familiar with the ports of Central and South American and our Northwest coast, not ours then, for the Star Spangled Banner then floated only over a narrow strip of land near the mouth of the Columbia River.
The vast stretch of coast now embraced in the State of California was then Mexican territory and the Russian Bear was the emblem of power extending over forty degrees of longitude and from the fifty-fifth to the seventy-second degree of latitude, or more than eleven hundred miles, from south to north, and sixteen hundred miles from east to west. By the diplomacy of Mr. Seward and the payment of seven million dollars in gold, the vast extent of coast came under our flag.
No one could listen to Mr. Beaser’s recital of what he saw and heard on the Pacific coast without being entertained, and receiving much useful knowledge.
Mr. Beaser came to Ontonagon about 30 years ago, soon after the discovery of copper in that country. Very few settlers had preceded him there; but for several years, from 1858, they came in rapidly.
But here were no regular lines of boats as at present from Lake Erie and Michigan. All the supplies for the population must be brought by water a thousand miles. They were brought to the Sault and transferred across the portage, re-loaded on vessels and distributed to the infant settlements along the coast. As a result of the scanty and uncertain means of conveyance, the early northern winter often found the settlers without their winter’s supply of flour, pork and groceries. They must be brought to Ontonagon from Copper Harbor or Eagle River in open boats, which in the late fall and early winter was a work of hardship and danger. Mr. Beaser’s skill and bravery as a sailor was more than once instrumental in saving Ontonagon from starvation and want.
In the fall of 1856, Mr. Beaser brought his family to Ashland. Here he was closely identified with all enterprises calculated to aid in the opening up of this country. He had accumulated a competence at Ontonagon which he here freely expended.
He was a man of sound discretion and great good common sense, and was one of Ashland’s most useful citizens. Through discouragements and long deferred hope he persevered; while nearly all the rest of us were compelled to retreat. His hope seemed never to forsake him and like the heroes of the Cumberland who went down with their colors flying, he stuck to Ashland in its hours of greatest depression and finally found his grave in the waters of our Bay – while attempting to come from Bayfield to Ashland in an open boat alone during a severe storm in November, 1866. He rests on the Island of La Pointe, but the home of his life should be the home of his mortal remains and I doubt not they will be transferred hither at an early day.
To be continued in Number IV…
Edwin Ellis Incidents: Number II
March 26, 2017
By Amorin Mello

Originally published in the June 30th, 1877, issue of The Ashland Press. Transcribed with permission from Ashland Narratives by K. Wallin and published in 2013 by Straddle Creek Co.
… continued from Number I.
EARLY RECOLLECTIONS OF ASHLAND.
“OF WHICH I WAS A PART.”
Number II
My Dear Press: – At the close of my last scribblings, we had arrived on the present site of Ashland, near where the railroad dock reaches the shore and were sheltered in a log shanty, built by Lusk, Prentice & Co., a kind of land company who had plans of starting a town here, of building a dock, and who had a small stock of merchandise and provisions to aid in their proposed work. The members of the firm were David S. Lusk, of New York, Frederick Prentice, of Toledo, Ohio, Capt. J. D. Angus, of Ontonagon, and Geo. R. Stuntz, then of Superior City.

1850s survey of Frederick Prentice Addition of Ashland at/near the ancient village site of Gichi-wiikwedong. “It is in this addition, that, the Chippewa River and the St. Croix Indian trails reach the Bay.”
~ Wisconsin Historical Society
Mr. Lusk left the lake in 1856, and I think died some years since in California.

Frederick Prentice
~ History of the Maumee Valley by Horace S Knapp, 1872, pages 560-562.
Mr. Prentice, a man of great energy and business enterprise, now resides in Toledo, and is largely engaged in the production and refining of coal oil, being one of the great operators in that enlightening civilizer. He has accumulated an ample fortune, and is still largely interested in real estate in our town and country.

Captain John Daniel Angus
~ Madeline Island Museum
Capt. J. D. Angus, and old salt, familiar with all the oceans as well as our inland seas – having circumnavigated the globe; able to build any water craft from a Mackinaw boat to a ship of war; a man with an exhaustless store of anecdotes; who was acquainted with “Sinbad, the Sailor” – having passed through many vicissitudes- is now living in our country, full of life and activity.

George Riley Stuntz
~ The Eye of the North-west: First Annual Report of the Statistician of Superior, Wisconsin, by Frank Abial Flower, 1890, page 26.
George R. Stuntz now resides in Duluth, a civil engineer by profession, who came to the west end of the lake thirty year ago; who has done more surveying of government land than any other man on the lake. He is a descendant from the third generation of a Hessian soldier, hired by George III to fight against the American Colonies in the war of our Revolution; but who after fighting one battle on the side of the Despot, was convinced of the wrong of the British cause, became an active rebel and a sincere defender of American liberty. He and his children and children’s children have ever been true American patriots, and have done good service to the cause of the Republic. He is the owner of much real estate on Lake Superior, in both Wisconsin and Minnesota.
These men had also been attracted by the situation of our bay as the outlet of an extensive country, abounding in minerals and timber. They had perfected no plans for the acquisition of title to the land. It is true several claims had been made reaching from Fish Creek nearly to the Indian Reserve – a narrow strip on the bay, but the claimants gained no rights thereby, for the lands had not been surveyed, and we were all in the eye of the law, trespassers. The Land Office, which was then at Hudson, on the St. Croix river, was not allowed to receive and entertain declaratory pre-emption statements.
Still Lusk, Prentice & Co. were even then engaged in building a dock and clearing off the site of an expected city, to which even then they gave the name of “Bay City” – by which name the larger part of the present site of Ashland was known for many years. It is now in legal description as “Ellis Division of Ashland.” The timber was cut into cord wood and piled upon the dock, in anticipation of the wants of the numerous steamboats soon expected to throng the docks of the rising city.
Some twenty acres of land were thus cut over, reaching from near Dr. Ellis’ present residence to the Bay City creek, and from the bay shore nearly back to the Railroad depot.
The dock extended from the low point about a hundred yards east of the Door and Sash Factory of White & Perinier, about five hundred feet into the water, and reaching a depth of about eleven feet. It was made of cribs of round logs, pinned together with wooden pins. The cribs were about 25×30 feet, and about 25 feet apart. They had no filling of any kind. They were connected with stringers, which served as the foundation of the road-way, made by laying round poles crosswise upon the stringers.
It may seem stranger to us with the results of many years’ observation and experience of the force of waves and currents and ice pressure in the bay, that such a dock should ever have been built. But hind sight is always clearer than fore sight, and recent dock builders have had the benefit of the costly experience of the pioneers.
They labored under the impression that the ice melted in the bay and did not move out in large fields. They soon had this error corrected. On the last day of March, 1855, the ice in Ashland bay was broken for two or three hundred feet from shore only the body of the ice had not moved, and gave no signs of moving. It looked as though it might remain for weeks. The morning sun of April 1st shone upon the smooth, classy surface of the water. The ice had disappeared in a single night, and the dock and wood piled upon it – the result of so many hard days’ work – had passed away also. The remains might be seen for many years scattered along the bay shore and far up the Kau-kau-gon. The present dwellers here can hardly realize the depressing effect of this loss to the little squad of settlers.























