We have been reading stories from the past about what Eau Claire was like in the 1850s. These have all been excellent stories and today's is no exception from that rule. This comes from the book "Sawdust City" by Lois Barland and is used by permission. Former Citizen Recalls Days of Steamboat H. P. Leavens of Neenah tells of first working for W. F. Wilson (Dec. 1914) "I landed in Eau Claire in the early spring of 1857, reaching there by the first boat, on its return, that came down the Chippewa that season. Our party had waited at Reed's Landing four long days for its arrival, and I, a lad of twenty years had been sent up to the summit of the bluffs twice and three times every day to look for the smoke of the little boat, while we were anxiously awaiting its coming. There was no telegraph or telephone service in the great Northwest at this time, so that 'Watchful Waiting' was a prime factor, even a public necessity long before the name of Woodrow Wilson had ever been dreamed of, or any Mexican policy had been officially inaugurated. Near evening of the fourth day we spied in the distance what proved to be the little craft, puffing away among the sand bars and icy shores of the river, until just at the going down of the sun, she whistled her approach for a landing. Time was not, in those days, of as much consequence as opportunity, so we had to wait until the next morning before setting out for Eau Claire. It took us an entire day to make the journey, reaching Randall Town for our first landing. We were very earnestly importuned to disembark there, being assured by Mr. Randall himself, that this was the only town, and that to proceed further would be unwise, and perhaps disastrous, but we proceeded nevertheless, and landed at the Marston dock, which was at that time simply a snubbing post and a boat shanty. My first employment was driving a team of horses for Mr. Wilson, (or as he was better known as Dick Wilson). One of the first jobs he put me at was to plough a patch for potatoes, upon the very spot where later on was located your Fair grounds. We encountered a nest of rattle snakes at the foot of the bluff on our way out; which loosened the hair of my head and frightened me so that I was ready there and then to put for town and throw up my job for I had never seen the likes before. But we proceeded and Mr. wilson drove the team and marked out the virgin prairie that he wished me to turn over. Then he returned to town and left me alone to complete the task. Oh, the dismal stillness of the lonesome silence of that afternoon! I shall never forget it. Only the hoot of the owls, or the rustling of the jack rabbits among the underbrush and with all the recollection of that den of rattlers that I must pass alone when I went back to dinner; they somehow took possession of my nerves, so that little rivulets began to find their way down my cheeks in such quantity that the moisture became so obstructive that I had to suspend that plowing job, and unhitching the team and mounting one of the horses, returned to town for a very early diner. I never went back to that potato patch again for nearly forty years. After a short vacation I secured a job in what was called the "Barn Store" then standing partially in the street but a short distance from the site of the Galloway Hotel. A gentleman whose name I cannot now recall, had opened three stores in this then undeveloped portion of the state; one at Chippewa City, a dozen or so miles above the falls; one at Bridge Creek, near where now is located the village of Augusta; and one in the Barn Store in Eau Claire; saying as he did this, that he felt sure there was to be a town up here somewhere that would grow and develop into an important commercial city, and by fall he could better judge which of those three locations it would most likely be. So the latter part of August he decided that Eau Claire was to be the spot. When he reached this conclusion, the managers of Chippewa City and Bridge Creek stores were directed to pack up their stocks and get ready to move to Eau Claire. Mr. Wilson was not the owner of either stock. He supplied the teams however, that were engaged to move those stocks, and I was sent with one of them up to Chippewa City. There were no roads in those days after crossing the Eau Claire river. We could go where we chose and so picking our way to a point on the Chippewa below the falls, we forded the river and proceeded up the West bank to the promised city. It wa about night fall when we with two heavy loaded wagons got back to the ford. We made the crossing all right, but in getting from the bottom land up on the prairie we were compelled to double our teams so that it was quite dark when this was accomplished. The light of the bonfires were visible up and down the Chippewa, where the Indians were fishing in the rapids. This was an interesting incident for me for I had never before seen a live Indian or been near enough to smell one, much more to be found after dark in sight of one of their camp fires. Mr. Wilson suggested, in as much as our teams had not been fed since noon, and we had not yet had our supper, that he would take the teams and go in search of feed for them, if I would remain with the two loads of goods and protect them. It did not take me long to pass upon that suggestion. The sight of those bonfires down on the banks of the Chippewa and the occasional whoop of an Indian who had speared a big pickeral were sounds and sights that I did not relish amid the darkness and solitude of that eventide, so I very promptly, and probably quite emphatically declined his seeming solicitude for the poor horses, remarking that 'where though dwellest I will dwell, and where thou lodgest I will lodge' or words to that effect. While discussing the situation we heard the sound of a cow bell in the distance. Surmising that possibly it might direct us to some habitation, Mr. Wilson set out on foot to trace it down. In a short time he returned with a bundle of wild hay he had found where this settler had been putting up some of his winter use. He gave this to the horses, and we both went back and brought enough to bait both teams, and make for ourselves a comfortable bed under our wagons. I did not sleep well that night. Somehow I did not seem to care for sleep, and just as soon as there was the first ray of morning light, I wakened Mr. Wilson and we hitched up and drove into Eau Claire for breakfast. Fording the river near the site of the Wholesale Grocer Co's plant. Mr. Wilson never tired of nagging me about my bravery, but I believed then, and have always since thought, that if I had let him depart with those teams, that he would have put straight for home and left me to my fate with a hundred or more possible unfriendly Indians within hailing distance of me. ++++++++++++ There's more to this story and we will be reading it the next time. -- Nance mailto:nsampson@spacestar.net