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…
Asaph Whittlesey Incidents: Number II
March 26, 2017
By Amorin Mello

Originally published in the February 23rd, 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 I.
Early Recollections of Ashland: Number II
by Asaph Whittlesey
As the sole survivor of those who first settled upon the “town site” of Ashland, I have long felt it a duty I owe to myself and wife, and to those then associated with me, whose voices can no longer be heard; as well as a duty I owe to coming generations to add to the record already made, a mention of events of Ashland’s earlier days, overlooked, or perhaps not known to those who have heretorfore generously undertaken to write up the history of the place. And inasmuch as acts of my own, will form a conspicuous part of this record, I desire the public to charitably overlook what might otherwise be regarded as undue or extravagant mention of myself.
Those who have preceded me in their published “Early Recollections of Ashland,” especially those from the pen of Edwin Ellis, M.D., and J.S. Buck, Esq. Of Milwaukee, place the public largely in debt. First, on account of their having undertaken so thankless a task, and secondly, on account of the marvelous earnestness of their statements, which alone gives them value.
Engaged as I now am, the past comes up to me, with the precious freighting of recollections; some sad, and others of brighter hue, woven by memory into a varied “woof,” every thread of which has its cherished incidents in which we have born a part, and by which the soul is saddened or brightened as the “web” unfolds its various hues; and “old time friends” are again about me, and memory is busy with those things of the past which rendered “blessed” our “Cabin Homes” in the wilderness.

Detail of Ashland in LaPointe County circa 1855 from the Barber Papers.
The history of Ashland as a “town site” commenced with July 5th, 1854. On that day George Kilburn and myself left La Pointe in a row boat on a tour of inspection of the bay upon which Ashland is now located; having in view a “town site” on what might prove to be the most available point for a town, at or near “Equadon,” which we were told meant the “head of the bay.” Very well do I remember how our awkward attempts at rowing made us the laughing stock of numerous Half-Breeds and Frenchmen as we pulled from the shore, and how it was our fortune to face a lively head wind during this, our first few days attempting at rowing alone. However, at 5 p.m. of the day named, having taken soundings for two miles along the south shore of the bay, we landed our boat at the westerly limit of the present “town site” of Ashland, where the high land leaves the bay. As I stepped ashore, Mr. Kilburn exclaimed, “Here is the place for the big city!” and (handing me his ax) added, “I want you to have the honor of cutting the first tree in the way of settlement upon the “town site,” and the tree of which I then fell formed one of the foundation longs in the
FIRST BUILDING ERECTED,
and was erected upon what is now known as lot 2, block 105. This building was 14×10 feet square, had but one door which faced to the south, and but one window which was upon the north side, furnishing a full view of the bay.
On the 16th of August, we were joined by Mrs. Whittlesey, with her “golden haired” and only child, “Eugenia Vesta,” then less than two years of age. Mrs. Whittlesey presented an extremely youthful appearance, being less than twenty-one years of age and unused either to sunlight or to toil; she nevertheless brought “sunlight” into our first
HOME IN THE WILDERNESS.
At this time our nearest neighbors were at Odanah, a distance of eleven miles in a direct line, without even a “trail” leading thereto.
Mrs. Whittlesey’s surroundings were now in strong contrast with her former life, and so absolutely were we shut in by the dense forest that there was but one way to look out, and that was to look up. But for all this our conceptions of the place were past description. Business blocks in the near future filled our minds, and enabled us to sustain every inconvenience. Already the “town site” fever had grown into a “mania,” and adjacent lands were rapidly being taken up by “pre-emptors.”
To be continued in Number III…
Asaph Whittlesey Incidents: Number I
February 9, 2017
By Amorin Mello

Originally published in the February 16, 1878, issue of The Ashland Press. Transcribed with permission from Ashland Narratives by K. Wallin and published in 2013 by Straddle Creek Co.
Early Recollections of Ashland: Number I
by Asaph Whittlesey

Photograph of Asaph Whittlesey from the Wisconsin Historical Society.
Our first arrival at La Pointe being so intimately associated with the settlement of Ashland, I have determined to make our arrival there the subject of my first letter.
It was among the first days of June, 1854, that George Kilburn, Jr., myself and wife and only child, Eugenia, (then some eighteen months old,) made a landing at La Pointe with a view to remain permanently in the country. Well do I remember the beautiful “town,” spread before us as we merged from the “old log warehouse” through which we passed in reaching the shore, while the general appearance was that of neatness and comfort.

Photograph of Julius Austrian from the Madeline Island Museum.
We had already made the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Julius Austrian, having had the pleasure of their company up the Lakes, and had made many inquiries of them as to the place of our destination. From this time forward we found Mr. and Mrs. Austrian to be most agreeable neighbors and associates, and these young “brides” spent much of their time together, and not unfrequently did the evening air carry to listening crowds our notes of “Good old Colony times,” and “There’s no place like home,” still fresh in our memory.
La Pointe at this time was the second in importance of towns upon the Lakes, Ontonagon taking the lead.
Within a few days after our landing, we were fully organized as “house keepers,” under the same roof with Mr. and Mrs. George Starks, now residents of Bayfield; who proved to be most excellent neighbors, and never did a single roof cover a more harmonious trio of families.
We had, however, a common “foe” to encounter, visions of which filled our dreams and harassed our waking moments. This “foe” was the everlasting “bed bug,” more numerous and more determined in their onslaught than is the “Russian Army;” while this mixture of Dutch and Yankee blood served to satisfy their ravenous appetites. We had heard of this race before, but this was the first time we had met in open combat, face to face. It was our custom regularly before retiring to rest to go into combat with them armed with “wooden spads,” with which we slaughtered them by the quart. Our plan was to remain awake an hour or so after retiring to bed, when we would strike a light which was a signal for a field fight. It was an exciting scene to witness their ranks surrounding us on every hand, while the sheets of our bed seemed dyed in human blood. One means of our defense was to have the bed posts stand in molasses; but this only put them to the trouble of marching to the ceiling above from which they dropped upon us like hail; of course all these contingencies helped to make my wife good natured, and strengthen her attachments to the country. This condition of things lasted while we remained occupants of the building, and when we, in our weakness from loss of blood, staggered forth to make us a home elsewhere, we were filled with anxiety as to the safety of our German neighbors.
“Dr. Borup, the agent for the American Fur Company, (who have an extensive trading-post at this place,) has a superb garden. In walking through it with him, I saw very fine crops of the usual garden vegetables growing in it. His red currant bushes were literally bent down beneath their weight of ripe fruit. His cherry-trees had also borne well. Gooseberries also succeed well. The doctor also had some young apple-trees, that were in a thriving condition. Poultry, likewise, does well. Mrs. B. had her yard well stocked with turkeys, geese, ducks, and chickens.”
~ “Morgan“ at La Pointe during 1845.
As I have before stated, the general appearance of the island was most attractive. The garden of Mr. Austrian was laid out most tastily. We found there a large variety of fruit trees, apples, plums, cherries, etc. Also large quantities of currants and strawberries; but the crowning attraction was the “grape bower,” affording a most attractive lounging place. Here also a merry party, consisting, so far as my recollection serves me, of the following persons: Mr. and Mrs. Julius Austrian, Rev. John Chebohm, (who, I remember, asked the blessing at the table,) Marks Austrian, Mr. H. Mandelbaum, Henry Smit, Mr. and Mrs. Hocksteiner, Mr. and Mrs. George Starks, old Mr. and Mrs. Perinier, Mr. and Mrs. Asaph Whittlesey, and I think Mrs. William Herbert, and a Mr. Roy, celebrated the
“FORTH OF JULY,” 1854.
Being a curious mixture of Americans, Jews, Germans, French and Austrians, no two of whom could carry on a very extensive conversation, for want of a knowledge of the languages, so that our toasts were mainly received in silence, nevertheless the day was passed most pleasantly, while the reading of the Declaration of Independence by Asaph Whittlesey, marked it as a day for national celebration.



