BY MILO M. QUAIFE

The most characteristic and comprehensive theme in all American

history is that of the westward movement. From the time of the first

feeble landings at Quebec, at Plymouth, and at Jamestown, the history

of our country has been characterized by a steady westward surge of

the population, reaching out eagerly for new lands to conquer, and in

the process carrying the banner of civilization ever westward and

establishing successive new communities and states. The present

generation of students of American history has not been unmindful of

the importance and interest which attaches to this westward movement,

and has not failed to accord it, in the main, all due recognition.

With the doings and deserts of our pioneer farm, canal, railroad, and

city builders, our hewers of wood and drawers of water, in a word,

historians have long made us familiar. Unfortunately, however, too

little attention has been given, and too little recognition accorded,

the equally important service of those among our western pioneers who

laid the foundations of our spiritual and intellectual civilization.

That man may not live by bread alone was stated long ago on excellent

authority. The hewing down of the forests and breaking of the

prairies, the building of houses, highways, and cities were all

essential steps in the process of transforming the wilderness into an

abode of enlightened civilization. Equally essential was the

establishment of institutions of learning and religion, and the

development of a taste for literature and art. The blossoming of these

finer fruits of civilization inevitably tended to sweeten and refine

the society of the pioneers, which otherwise, engrossed in a stern

physical struggle with the wilderness, must have become hard and gross

in character.

Fortunate indeed is the pioneer community which numbers among its

settlers intellectual and spiritual leaders fired with enthusiasm and

endowed with ability. Fortunate it was for Wisconsin when in the very

year of her birth as a territory, Increase Allen Lapham cast his lot

for the remainder of his life with her. The service rendered by the

intellectual aristocracy of pioneer Massachusetts and the other New

England colonies has long been accorded ample recognition. The valiant

labors of Increase Lapham in the service of the state of his adoption

have largely gone unheeded and unrewarded to the present moment. Yet

it is safe to predict that when the future historian shall come to

scan the record of the first half century of Wisconsin’s history as a

territory and state, he will affirm that no man brought greater honor

to her or performed more valuable services in her behalf than did the

modest scholar, Increase Allen Lapham.

The frontier has ever been proud of its self-made men, esteeming

chiefly, not who a man might be but rather what he was able to do.

Lapham was a true frontiersman in this respect at least, that he was a

wholly self-made scholar. He was born in March, 1811, at Palmyra, New

York, “two miles west of the Macedon locks on the Erie Canal.” His

father, Seneca Lapham, was an engineering contractor, the pursuit of

whose profession necessitated frequent family removals. Thus, in 1818

the family was located at Pottsville, Pennsylvania, where the father

was employed on the Schuylkill Canal; two years later he was back on

the Erie Canal and the family was residing for a second time at Galen,

New York; the next few years witnessed further removals to Rochester

and Lockport in New York, and to several points in Ohio.

The boy, Increase Lapham, was evidently a precocious youth. At

thirteen years of age he “found frequent sale” for his drawings of the

plan of the locks his father had assisted in constructing at Lockport.

About this time he gained employment, first at cutting stone for the

locks and then as rodman on the canal. While engaged in stonecutting,

he wrote in later years, “I found my first fossils and began my

collection. The beautiful specimens I found in the deep rock cut at

this place gave me my first ideas of mineralogy and initiated a habit

of observation which has continued through all my life. I found

amusement and pastime in the study of nature, leading to long walks in

the country, and as I found no others of similar tastes these rambles

were usually without companions.”

When fifteen years of age the youth followed his father to Ohio where

he worked for a short time on the Miami Canal, removing at the close

of the year, 1826, to undertake similar employment at Louisville. At

this time, apparently, he first attracted the attention of members of

the world of scholarship, for we find the renowned scientist,

Professor Silliman of Yale, writing to thank him “for the liberal

spirit which you manifest in encouraging a work designed to promote

the public good”--the work in question being the _American Journal of

Science_, of which Silliman was the founder and editor. Within a few

months the boy made his first contribution to scholarship by sending

to Silliman, for publication in the _American Journal of Science_, a

comprehensive description of the canal around the Ohio Rapids.

At this time he was only sixteen, and his opportunities for schooling

had been exceedingly scant. Yet his habits of observation and his

powers of reasoning and of expressing himself in clear and convincing

English might well be coveted by the average college undergraduate of

today. A convenient illustration of these powers is afforded by

Lapham’s journal entry for October 24. 1827:

A smoky day. Mr. Henry, the engineer [of the canal], is of

the opinion that the smoke occasioning our Indian summer, as

the smoky weather is called, does not originate in the

burning prairies in the West, or in other extensive fires;

but that it is from the decay of vegetation. (If it is

possible for vegetables to be converted into smoke without

combustion this will appear very probable!!!!)

He relates an instance of a very smoky day at New Madrid

being followed by an earthquake; this he supposed to be the

smoke that had arisen through the ground. I told him that I

supposed it was owing to a peculiar state of the atmosphere

which was unfavorable to the decomposition of smoke; to this

he made no reply.

The years of Lapham’s youth and early manhood from 1827-36 must be

passed in rapid review. Two years in all were spent on canal work at

Louisville; over three more followed at Portsmouth, Ohio; in April,

1833, the Ohio State Board of Canal Commissioners installed the young

engineer (now twenty-two years of age) as its secretary at an annual

salary of $400. Thereafter for three years his headquarters were in

the state capitol at Columbus, his work being that of secretary of the

canal commission. Meanwhile the elder Lapham, advised and financially

assisted by his sons, Darius and Increase, had abandoned the calling

of canal contractor and settled upon a farm near Mount Tabor. This

became the permanent family home, and here Seneca Lapham acquired a

well-deserved repute among his fellows both for his sobriety of

character and for his progressive ideas and practices with respect to

farming operations. In the years under review Increase Lapham

continued to pursue with enthusiasm his scientific studies and

investigations, the range of his interests and observations widening

with every passing year. Relations of acquaintance and friendship were

established with a large number of scientific investigators, all of

them, doubtless, much older than was Lapham himself. The study of

botany and zoölogy, and investigations with respect to more scientific

methods of farming were begun. In a communication on “Agriculture in

Ohio,” contributed to the _Genesee Farmer_ in 1833, the modern

doctrine with respect to rotation of crops and scientific renovation

of the soil through the use of fertilizers was laid down. A third of a

century later, but still over a third of a century in advance of the

recent movement for the conservation of the natural resources of the

country, Lapham followed up this general line of thought by writing

and publishing as a Wisconsin legislative document a comprehensive

argument in favor of the conservation of the state’s forest resources.

Happy had it been for both state and nation if heed had been given in

time to the vital problem to which he thus early called attention.

To a practical application of the Jacksonian theory of spoils politics

was due the migration of Lapham from the capital of Ohio to the

new-born town of Milwaukee in the spring of 1836. In later years he

humorously explained that he was “reformed” out of office and

employment in Ohio; at the time, there is reason to believe, the blow

was not considered in a humorous light. Early in his canal career

Lapham had worked under Byron Kilbourn, who now had thrown in his

fortunes with the rising young village of Milwaukee. As a leading

promoter of the coming metropolis Kilbourn had extensive business

projects in view, among them that of procuring the construction of the

Milwaukee and Rock River Canal, which would, it was fondly believed,

go far toward realizing for the nascent city her dreams of

metropolitan greatness. There was much demand for men possessed of

engineering ability, and Kilbourn, who had conceived a friendship for

Lapham which was to prove lifelong, now brought him to Wisconsin on a

salary of $1,000 a year. Thus Wisconsin became his permanent home, for

he left Milwaukee only to remove in old age to a farm near Oconomowoc.

At the mouth of the Milwaukee River Lapham found, on his arrival on

July 3, 1836, fifty houses where a few months before had been but two

or three. In coming from the older settled portion of Ohio to

Milwaukee he had entered a new world. Chicago was still in the height

of its first mad speculative boom and conditions at Milwaukee differed

only in detail from those which prevailed at Chicago. Indeed, on

reaching Detroit on his westward journey, Lapham wrote to his brother:

“I am now, and have been since I arrived at Sandusky, in what might

very properly be called the world of speculators: everybody you meet

is engaged in some speculation; everything you hear has some

speculation at the bottom. The hotel where I am now writing has

suspended on the walls of the barroom plats of new towns; I have added

the ninth.” No wonder the impecunious young man, engulfed in such an

atmosphere, proceeded, immediately upon his arrival at Milwaukee, to

purchase three town lots for $5,000, payable “one-half in one one-half

in two years.” How did he expect to provide the money to meet this

obligation? He did not expect to provide it; he “bought them for the

purpose of selling them again at a higher price.”

Lapham, however, was never designed for a business man, and he never

acquired more than a very modest competence in life. I have spoken of

the speculative mania which then pervaded all the newer West merely to

illustrate the sincerity of the young immigrant’s devotion to

scholarship, from the pursuit of which even the thrill and

intoxication of perhaps the greatest boom the country has ever

witnessed could detain him only momentarily. Within two weeks of his

arrival at Milwaukee he records that he has made a map of the county

(possibly a professional matter) and “done a little botanizing.” Even

earlier, while at Detroit en route to the West, he had taken time to

write Professor Asa Gray an offer to collect for him specimens from

the new region to which the writer was going. “Let me entreat you to

pay particular attention to my _pets_, the grasses,” wrote the noted

botanist in reply; “I will see that you have due credit for every

interesting discovery.” Six weeks after his arrival at Milwaukee

Lapham wrote to another botanical friend that he found many new plants

at Milwaukee; and that “in order to inform my friends of what plants

are found here and to enable them to indicate such as they want I

think of publishing a catalogue of such as I find.”

Thus was conceived the idea responsible for the first publication of a

scientific character within the bounds of the present state of

Wisconsin, for before the close of the year there issued from the

office of Milwaukee’s newly founded newspaper a _Catalogue of Plants

and Shells, Found in the Vicinity of Milwaukee, on the West Side of

Lake Michigan_, by I. A. Lapham. It would probably be safe to affirm

that this was the first scientific work to be published west of the

Great Lakes, at least to the north of St. Louis. For in literary

matters Chicago, whose commercial progress Milwaukee never succeeded

in equalling, must yield the palm of leadership to her early North

Shore rival. Leaving out of consideration one or two lyceum lectures

which were printed after delivery, the earliest Chicago imprint of a

scholarly character of which I have any knowledge is Mrs. Kinzie’s

well-known story of the Chicago massacre, published as a pamphlet in

1844; and this, a reminiscent family narrative, does not deserve to be

regarded as scholarly in the true sense of the term.

In 1838, two years after his arrival, Lapham began the collection of

material for a gazeteer of Wisconsin. Published at Milwaukee in 1844,

it constitutes both Wisconsin’s first book of history and the state’s

first home-made book of any character to be published in more durable

binding than paper. So attractive were its merits that an unscrupulous

rival author, Donald McLeod, more adept at wielding the scissors than

the pen, promptly and brazenly plagiarized a large portion of its

contents for his _History of Wiskonsan_, published, appropriately

enough, by “Steele’s Press” at Buffalo, in 1846: and a copy of this

fraudulent publication was recently offered for sale by a dealer, with

due encomiums upon its rarity and worth, for the modest sum of thirty

dollars.

Thus far we have followed Lapham’s career in due chronological order.

Some thirty years were yet to elapse before his death in 1875, years

crowded with earnest, self-effacing labors in the cause of

scholarship. In what follows I shall treat of his various scholarly

interests and achievements in topical order, without regard to

chronology.

Although himself self-taught Lapham’s active interest in educational

institutions persisted throughout his life. In 1843 he secured the

adoption by the territorial legislature of a resolution to Congress

petitioning a grant of land for the purpose of establishing in

Wisconsin an institution for the instruction of the deaf and dumb, and

blind, and an asylum for the insane. He is the real father of the

Milwaukee public high school system. In 1846 he donated thirteen acres

of land lying within the city limits for the purpose of establishing

the first high school. In the spring of 1848 he was commissioned by

the city as its agent to secure a loan of $16,000 in the East for the

building of schoolhouses, and he made the long trip to New York and

Boston on this public mission. In the same year he proffered the newly

authorized University of Wisconsin the gift of “a pretty extensive

herbarium” of 1,000 or 1,500 species of plants. In March, 1848, by a

meeting of citizens held at the council house “it was deemed expedient

to establish a college in this city” and an executive committee of

five townsmen was appointed with full power to consummate the desired

object. Lapham was one of the five men charged with this weighty

responsibility, and out of this movement proceeded the “Milwaukee

Female Seminary,” which today is represented by the Milwaukee-Downer

College, one of the state’s noble institutions of higher learning. In

August, 1850, as president of the executive board of the college,

Lapham had the satisfaction of delivering to its first two graduates

their diplomas. When, in later years, he was offered a professorship

in the school he declined the position, modestly explaining that his

lack of education and of teaching experience rendered him unfit to

discharge the trust.

With our own State Historical Society his connection was long and

honorable. Before coming to Wisconsin he had actively engaged in the

work of the Ohio Historical and Philosophical Society. He hailed with

joy the formation of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin in 1849

and was one of the committee of three which drafted its first

constitution. The society being formally organized, he at once began

to labor to promote its collections. He served as its vice-president

for twelve years, and as president for ten additional years. With the

Smithsonian Institution he established relations of mutual helpfulness

almost immediately upon its organization. Of his relations with this

and other learned institutions more will be said in connection with

certain lines of investigation which he carried on.

In 1849 Dr. Lapham proposed to the American Antiquarian Society of

Worcester, Massachusetts, to make an extensive survey of the mounds

and other ancient remains in Wisconsin provided the society would

defray the actual outlay of money involved. The enterprise thus

proposed was adopted by the Antiquarian Society, as a result of which

the survey was made, the fruits of it being given to the scientific

world a few years later in Lapham’s _Antiquities of Wisconsin_. This

work, published under the auspices of the Smithsonian Institution, is

filled with the author’s drawings, beautifully executed, of the

numerous earthworks and mounds he had located. Students of American

archeology will always owe the patient author a heavy debt of

gratitude for having carefully plotted and described these evidences

of aboriginal habitation in Wisconsin before the work of destruction

which inevitably attended the advance of white settlement had gained

much headway.

Thus in many departments of learning--in geology, botany, conchology,

in meteorology, history, and archeology--Lapham busied himself,

acquiring repute among the scholars of Europe as in America, all the

while earning his simple living by such professional work as he

permitted himself the time to do. Perhaps no single achievement of his

possesses more of interest to the world in general or has directly

added more to the well-being and comfort of every one of us than his

work in securing the establishment of a weather-service bureau by the

national government. It cannot be claimed that he fathered the idea of

such a service and its attendant possibility of foretelling weather

conditions far enough in advance to make the information of real

commercial value. Neither can Robert Fulton be credited with having

fathered the idea of the steamboat. Yet we rightly regard Fulton as

its real inventor, since he was the first to demonstrate the

practicability of the idea. So with Lapham and the weather bureau. For

twenty years he urged upon the Smithsonian Institution, the Wisconsin

legislature, and other agencies of society the practicability and the

immense advantage of such a government service. For twenty years, as a

private individual he made records and observations, seeking to

demonstrate his claims. But in the nature of the case (as Lapham

repeatedly pointed out) only some powerful agency like the national

government could take the many observations at different points

necessary to the success of the work, assemble their results, and make

them known throughout the nation in time to be of practical use to the

public. Finally, the persistent seeker after the public good succeeded

in attracting the notice of men powerful enough to compel the

attention of Congress. As a result the law for the incorporation of

the signal service was passed. How the result was achieved by Lapham

may best be told in the words of a man to whom he had appealed for

assistance. At the meeting of the National Board of Fire Underwriters,

held in New York in April, 1875, a resolution to appoint a special

committee to correspond with the United States Signal Service

Department in relation to wind as an element in fire risks was under

consideration when Hon. E. D. Holton rose and said:

There is a little man who lives in my town about so high

(holding his hand a little lower than his shoulders) who

lives in an obscure part of the town, and is known to

comparatively few people in the town. You go to his house

and find it filled with all the evidences of science,

specimens from the vegetable world and the mineral world.

Going to London a few years ago I was given by this little

man a letter of introduction to Sir William Hooker,

custodian of the Kew Gardens, which secured for me eminent

entertainment and influence. Five years ago as I was about

to leave my house to go to Richmond, Virginia, to attend a

meeting of the National Board of Trade, he came to my house

and had a resolution drawn to be submitted to the National

Board of Trade, declaring that the national government

should organize a service to _look after the winds of the

continent of America_.

When I came to Richmond I presented that resolution. It

received a most eloquent second from the late General

Wolbridge, an eminent citizen of New York. The National

Board of Trade immediately passed the resolution. As soon as

it was passed I sent it to my friend, General Paine, then

member of Congress from my district in Wisconsin, and in an

incredibly short space of time for that august body--which

is supposed to have at least as much red tape as the

National Insurance Company--it was passed. I did not expect

that the wind question would meet me at this angle of the

insurance trade, but it seems it has.

That gentleman I will name. I rise to make these remarks and

I wish to speak his name in this connection, because out of

his labors so persistent, in his humble house, so unknown to

his countrymen--for he is better known in foreign circles of

science than in his own country--and through his labors and

instrumentality, this thing has been brought into its

present shape. His name is Dr. Increase Allen Lapham of

Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

And how, it may be asked, did Lapham’s fellow-men requite his lifelong

labors devoted to the public good? The answer which must be made

affords much support to the proverbial belief in the ungratefulness of

republics. When in 1870 Congress passed the bill providing for the

weather-signal service, its execution was entrusted to the chief

signal officer of the army. By him Lapham was employed for a short

time as special assistant in the War Department at a yearly salary of

$2,000. When he sent home (he was stationed at Chicago) to his

daughter the proceeds of his first month’s wages, she wrote to her

brother as follows:

Last Friday father sent home $128.03 to be deposited as the

first money of any amount he ever received for any

scientific occupation (regular salary at least) and Thursday

afternoon I was down town and met B. He said he had been

around among some of father’s friends and collected $100 to

make father a life member of the Chicago Astronomical

Society--(You know this society owns the “big telescope” at

Dearborn Observatory).

I forbear to quote the daughter’s delighted remarks which follow; more

profitable will it be for us to consider for a moment the bitter irony

of this situation. After more than forty years of zealous public

service to receive so pitiful a salary, his first tangible reward, and

to have this discontinued within a few months time! To be fitted both

by inherent tastes and lifelong training to enjoy and profit by

membership in such an association, and yet unable, because our

countrymen estimate the services of scholars so low, to pay the paltry

membership fee! Here, indeed, is the cross on which in the United

States today we crucify scholarship.

One other matter and I shall conclude. Before he left Ohio Dr. Lapham

had labored to induce the legislature to make provision for a

geological survey of that state. From the time of his arrival in

Wisconsin he strove as an individual to carry out such a survey here.

Necessarily in order to do it thoroughly and to publish its results

the power of the state must be brought into play. At length in 1873

provision was made by statute for a geological survey of Wisconsin and

Governor Washburn appointed Dr. Lapham chief geologist to have the

direction of the enterprise. The work was pushed vigorously and

efficiently throughout the seasons of 1873 and 1874. Suddenly, in

January, 1875, Governor Taylor removed Dr. Lapham in order to make a

place for one of his spoils-seeking supporters. According to the

_American Journal of Science_ the new geologist’s “sole recommendation

for the position was political services, no one having ever heard of

him before as acquainted with geology or any other science.” Thus

finally did our state requite its first scholar--first certainly from

the viewpoint of chronology, and probably first from every other

viewpoint. “Knowing that time, which cures all things,” wrote the

three assistant geologists he had chosen two years before, “will do

you ample justice, and feeling most strongly the irreparable loss that

the state has sustained in the disseverment of your connection with

the survey, we remain with the most sincere respect, Your obedient

servants.” As an indication of the quality of the assistants selected

by Dr. Lapham it may be noted that one of the men who thus testified

this appreciation of their deposed chief was Thomas Chrowder

Chamberlin, who has been for many years chief geologist of the

University of Chicago.

Time indeed cures all things, notwithstanding that the mills of the

gods grind slowly. Of Dr. Lapham’s spoilsman successor as chief

geologist of Wisconsin, it may still be said, as at the time of his

appointment, that his reputation as a scientist yet remains to be

made. Governor Taylor, who made the removal, sleeps in silent Forest

Hill within sight of the capitol where formerly he ruled a state;

while in the holy of holies of the beautiful new state capitol, the

governor’s reception chamber, in the midst of famous soldiers,

explorers, and legislators, an eminent artist has chosen to depict the

application of scientific knowledge to the benefit of mankind in the

person of Doctor Lapham seated at his desk, before him an open

manuscript, and on the wall nearby, supported by two children

typifying the winds, his map of the United States, showing the first

storm traced across the country. More recently still, prompted by the

urging of citizens of the locality, the federal government has given

to the highest eminence in Waukesha County, overlooking the beautiful

lake region which Dr. Lapham so loved in life, the name of Lapham

Peak. Time is slowly proving his worth. More fitting memorials than

these he could not have asked.

The Wisconsin Magazine of History, Volume 1, 1917-1918 · 第 17 / 189 题