A Child of the Sea; and Life Among the Mormons Part 13

MARRIED AND KEEPING HOUSE.

The light-keeper Mr. Granger, had given up his position as a keeper, Mr.

Peter McKinley succeeding him. I was now married to Mr. Van Riper and living very near the light-house. My husband had come from Detroit for his health. After we were married he started a large cooper shop at the Point, employing several men in the summer season. My father had now moved into the "Strang House," as the King's house was always called by the islanders. Up to this time no one had ever lived in it since the King's death. Somehow no one cared to live in it, but father and mother found it very comfortable and pleasant. There were more people coming to the island all the time to settle, buying farms. The "Johnson House" was now taken down and moved on some farm. All the houses between Strang's house and Enoch had been taken down. We found the light-keeper and his daughters very kind neighbors. The two girls and myself were like sisters as time went on.

There was no doctor at that time on the island. When anything serious happened the people had a doctor come from Mackinac Island and later from Charlevoix.

Our mails came by ice in winter from Mackinac Island, a distance of fifty miles. When our mail carrier came with the pouches full we were like a hungry lot of people, as often we were without mail for a month or six weeks. Work was laid aside until the letters and papers were read, then for several days news was discussed among us. Good news was enjoyed by everybody and sad news was sadness for all. In later years our mail route was changed in winter to Cross Village, distant about twenty-five miles. Both Indians and white men were engaged in carrying it, using dogs with sleds as the mail grew heavier, with more inhabitants coming. Winter was the time for social amus.e.m.e.nts. We usually had fine ice for skating, which was enjoyed by both old and young, women, as well as men.

The merchants laid in a good stock of everything necessary in the fall, but many times people ran short of provisions, then other neighbors divided with them.

TRAVELLING BY WATER.

In the sixties Charlevoix people came to Beaver Island to do much of their trading, going back and forth in small boats. All travelling had to be done by water. People felt no fear. We were going from island to island in summer time. In those days at Little Traverse, now Harbor Springs, there were just a few white settlers, with one or two stores.

In the early fifties Mr. Richard Cooper started a store and another was kept by the "Wendells" of Mackinac Island. Many Mackinac Island people took their families every summer for several years to the Gull islands, that being a fine fishing ground. Thousands of dollars worth of fish were caught there. Beaver Harbor was then the center for trade. Near to reach. "The boats were our carriages, the wind our steeds." Sometimes there were accidents and many were drowned, still people had to live, and their work was on the water most of the time.

The winter of 1861 my husband and I went to Milwaukee to spend the winter. Mr. C. R. Wright was elected to the State Legislature at Lansing that winter, his family spending the winter in Fairport, Ohio. We all returned to the island in springtime. My parents had now gone back to Traverse City to live. Frank, my adopted brother, had enlisted as a drummer boy at the beginning of the Civil War.

OUR INDIAN SCHOOL AT GARDEN ISLAND.

In July of 1862 my husband was appointed as a Government school teacher to the Indians at Garden Island. The school was a large one as there was a large band of Indians. Our school continued for two years, then was discontinued for several years before another teacher was sent among them. That two years was a busy life for us both. The Government furnished seeds of all kinds for their gardens, flower seeds as well to beautify their homes. We were expected to teach them how to plant and cultivate their gardens and farms. They learned rapidly to make their gardens, to plant corn and vegetables, but these little flower seeds, they could not manage them. Chief Peain was a very social, intelligent man. He watched the process of making the flower beds and the putting in of the small seeds. Then he said, "Too much work for Indian." He then took many of the boys and girls with some of the older ones to help clearing off three or four acres of land, put a brush fence around it, they then took the flower seeds of the different kinds, sowing them like grain and raked them in. Well, such a flower garden was never seen!

There was every flower in the catalogue growing up together, and never were flowers enjoyed as those Indians enjoyed that flower garden. Every day at all hours could be seen both old and young going out to look at the bright flowers. Old grandmothers with the little grand children would sit in the shade near the flowers and work the pretty beads on the deerskin moccasins while the children played and amused themselves. As soon as school was over then the race began for the flower garden. And it was a pleasure to us to see them so happy. It was called "The Chief's Garden." He was greatly pleased with the bright flowers, and had us write a letter of thanks to the Indian agent for him.

We always had several friends visiting us from Milwaukee and other cities, which made the time seem all too short. I often look back to that two years of my life and feel that my time was not wasted.

WENTWORTH'S VISIT TO HIS ISLAND HOME.

Soon after I was married Alexander Wentworth, one of the men that shot Strang, boarded with us for several weeks. He came back to the island to visit and see how things were prospering. He was a fine looking and intelligent man, very quiet in his manner. We had several other boarders at the same time, people who came to see King Strang's Island. Alec, as they always called him, was their guide to show them the best fishing streams and take them to hunt ducks and wild pigeons. I often talked with Wentworth about the shooting of Strang, asking him if he had any regrets about what he had done. He said, "I have never yet regretted what I did. The Mormon life was bad, and there was no good in it as I can see and I would not live it over again for anything." The place he liked to go best was to little Font Lake to the "Johnson House," his wife's old "Island Home." This had been the second season he came. After that he never came again and we never heard from him any more.

MY HUSBAND APPOINTED LIGHT-KEEPER.

The winter of 1865 we spent a very pleasant winter in Northport, the next winter in Charlevoix, where we had built us a new home on Bridge street. We sold and returned again to the island, engaging in the fishing business quite extensively for a few years.

In August of 1869 Mr. Peter McKinley resigned his position as light-keeper, my husband being appointed in his place. Then began a new life, other business was discontinued and all our time was devoted to the care of the light. In the spring of 1870 a large force of men came with material to build a new tower and repair the dwelling, adding a new brick kitchen. Mr. Newton with his two sons had charge of the work. A new fourth order lens was placed in the new tower and the color of the light changed from white to red. These improvements were a great addition to the station from what it had been. Our tower was built round with a winding stairs of iron steps. My husband having now very poor health I took charge of the care of the lamps; and the beautiful lens in the tower was my especial care. On stormy nights I watched the light that no accident might happen. We burned the lard oil, which needed great care, especially in cold weather, when the oil would congeal and fail to flow fast enough to the wicks. In long nights the lamps had to be trimmed twice each night, and sometimes oftener. At such times the light needed careful watching. From the first the work had a fascination for me. I loved the water, having always been near it, and I loved to stand in the tower and watch the great rolling waves chasing and tumbling in upon the sh.o.r.e. It was hard to tell when it was loveliest.

Whether in its quiet moods or in a raging foam.

VESSELS SEEKING SHELTER FROM THE STORMS.

My three brothers were then sailing, and how glad I felt that their eyes might catch the bright rays of our light shining out over the waste of waters on a dark stormy night. Many nights when a gale came on we could hear the flapping of sails and the captain shouting orders as the vessels pa.s.sed our point into the harbor, seeking shelter from the storm. Sometimes we could count fifty and sixty vessels anch.o.r.ed in our harbor, reaching quite a distance outside the point, as there was not room for so many inside. They lay so close they almost touched at times.

At night our harbor looked like a little city with its many lights. It was a pleasant sound to hear all those sailors' voices singing as they raised the anchors in the early morning. With weather fair and white sails set the ships went gliding out so gracefully to their far away ports. My brothers were sometimes on those ships. Many captains carried their families on board with them during the warm weather. Then what a pleasure to see the children and hear their sweet voices in song in the twilight hours. Then again when they came on sh.o.r.e for a race on land, or taking their little baskets went out to pick the wild strawberries.

All these things made life the more pleasant and cheerful.

DEATH OF MY HUSBAND, THE LIGHT-KEEPER.

Life seemed very bright in our light house beside the sea. One dark and stormy night we heard the flapping of sails and saw the lights flashing in the darkness. The ship was in distress. After a hard struggle she reached the harbor and was leaking so badly she sank. My husband in his efforts to a.s.sist them lost his life. He was drowned with a companion, the first mate of the schooner "Thomas Howland." The bodies were never recovered, and only those who have pa.s.sed through the same know what a sorrow it is to lose your loved one by drowning and not be able to recover the remains. It is a sorrow that never ends through life.

MY APPOINTMENT AS LIGHT-KEEPER.

Life to me then seemed darker than the midnight storm that raged for three days upon the deep, dark waters. I was weak from sorrow, but realized that though the life that was dearest to me had gone, yet there were others out on the dark and treacherous waters who needed to catch the rays of the shining light from my light-house tower. Nothing could rouse me but that thought, then all my life and energy was given to the work which now seemed was given me to do. The light-house was the only home I had and I was glad and willing to do my best in the service. My appointment came in a few weeks after, and since that time I have tried faithfully to perform my duty as a light keeper. At first I felt almost afraid to a.s.sume so great a responsibility, knowing it all required watchful care and strength, with many sleepless nights. I now felt a deeper interest in our sailors' lives than ever before, and I longed to do something for humanity's sake, as well as earn my own living, having an aged mother dependent upon me for a home. My father had pa.s.sed beyond. Sorrows came thick and fast upon me. Two brothers and three nephews had found graves beneath the deep waters, but mine was not the only sorrow. Others around me were losing their loved ones on the stormy deep and it seemed to me there was all the more need that the lamps in our light-house towers should be kept brightly burning.

Let our lamps be brightly burning For our brothers out at sea-- Then their ships are soon returning, Oh! how glad our hearts will be.

There are many that have left us, Never more will they return; Left our hearts with sorrows aching, Still our lamps must brightly burn.

TRIBUTE TO THE SAILORS.

Oh sailor boy, sailor boy, sailor boy true!

The lamps in our towers are lighted for you.

Though the sea may be raging your hearts will not fail; You'll ride through the rolling foam not fearing the gale.

And G.o.d in his mercy will lead you aright.

As you watch the light-house with lamps burning bright.

The wind your lullaby, as the raging seas foam; Oh sailor boy, sailor boy, we welcome you home.

Oh sailor boy, sailor boy, sailor boy true!

Your dear darling mother is praying for you; Your sweet bride is weeping as her vigil she keeps, Not knowing your ship has gone down into the deep.

As she walks on the sh.o.r.e, her eyes out to sea, "Oh husband, my sailor boy, come back to me!"

The wild waves dash up at her feet in a foam, They answer, "Your sailor boy no more can come home."

In sorrow she kneels on that wave-beaten sh.o.r.e, "Shall I never, see my dear sailor boy more?"

The waves whisper softly, their low moaning sound, "You'll meet your dear sailor boy, in Heaven he's crowned."

LIGHT-KEEPERS AND THEIR WORK.

Our light keepers many times live in isolated places, out on rocks and shoals far away from land and neighbors, shut off from social pleasures.

In many places there can be no women and children about to cheer and gladden their lonely lives. There is no sound but the cry of the sea gulls soaring about or the beating of the restless waters, yet their lives are given to their work. As the sailor loves his ship so the light-keeper loves his light-house. Where there are three or four keepers at one station they manage to make the time pa.s.s more pleasantly. They must in many cases be sailors as well as light-keepers, as it requires both skill and courage to manage their boats in sailing back and forth between their lights and the mainland, where mail, provisions and other necessaries are procured for their comforts. Often they are drowned in making these trips. The pa.s.sing of the ships near their stations are like so many old friends to them. They learn to love the pa.s.sing boats and vessels, and it is a pleasure to know our lights cheer and gladden the hearts of the sailors as the waves run high and the wild winds blow on dark, stormy nights. May the hearts of the light-keepers, as well as the life savers in the life saving service along the great lakes and coasts, be strengthened and cheered in the grand and n.o.ble work.

As we lie in our beds so snugly and warm.

The sailors are on the sea battling the storm.

As the sailors are tramping their decks in the midnight hours, We are tr.i.m.m.i.n.g our lamps in our light-house towers.

GALES ON OUR LAKES.

There were many wrecks towed into our harbor, where they were left until repaired enough to be taken to dry docks in cities. Sometimes in spring and fall the canvas would be nearly all torn off a schooner in the terrible gales which swept the lakes, many of which I have been out in, in my trips on the lakes and among the islands.

One of our pioneers, Capt. Robert Roe, of Buffalo, N. Y., had settled on South Fox Island in 1859. He put out a dock, built a comfortable house, and bought the land the Mormons had occupied. He farmed, and furnished cord wood to lake steamers for many years. Many were the gales he sailed through in his trips pa.s.sing from the island to main land. His brother was keeper of the light-house several years at South Fox Island.