Lower Dells--Site of a Deserted Village--Indian Earthwork--Where They
Danced--Woodland Walk
Not so picturesque as the Upper Dells, nevertheless interesting, the
Lower Dells extend two or three miles below the hydro-electric plant at
Kilbourn. The river is broader and the rocks have been cut away to a
greater extent, leaving them hollowed and worn into many shapes. The
most fantastic forms are far down the stream. The Lower Dells may be
visited by boat or may be carefully examined by walking along the shore
in the vicinity of the deserted village of Newport.
In the order of their appearance, the objects of interest are met, as
one descends the river, as follows:
Echo Point is where Taylor's Glen is crossed by the railroad and,
standing at the mouth of the tunnel, one may hear his voice come back
as a boomerang out of space.
Bear's Cave is a recess a little lower on the same side of the river.
Chimney Rock much resembles the one in the Upper Dells, except for
size, and is located just below Bear's Cave.
Pulpit Rock is at the water's edge hard by.
Observation Point gives a view of a magnificent landscape.
Stultz Rock, on the opposite side of the stream, was a terror to
raftsmen, their craft often being whirled to destruction at this
treacherous location.
The Hawk's Bill boldly exposes itself to view, the point being known
for many years as Signal Peak.
The Sugar Bowl, Inkstand, and Lone Rock stand amid the swirling waters
of the stream, boldly battling with the forces of erosion. They are
hard cores which have been left as the river cut its way to the present
level.
The Cave of the Dark Waters, called by the Indians, Nah-huh-nah, is an
interesting place for the boat to pause.
Grotto Rock and other places of interest will be pointed out by the
boatman as the craft glides along.
A Deserted Village
Newport, once a noisy, busy place, boasting of two thousand
frontiersmen, and now a deserted village site with but a few cellar
holes to recall its past glory, was located where the highway,
extending east from Delton, joins the Wisconsin River road. The pioneer
village was at the head of navigation, this being given as the excuse
for its appearance, and after an ephemeral existence of but a few
years, passed so completely from view that little remains but a ghostly
recollection of the place.
Here the rivermen found a breathing place when they re-assembled their
rafts after running the cribs through the gauntlet of the Dells, here
the river steamers halted to unburden their cargoes and assume new
responsibilities for the downward trips; and here the overland stages
drew up at the great Steele tavern to enable the passengers to set foot
on the new El Dorado. There was first a limited village plat which
included a few blocks, but as the excitement grew, divisions and
sub-divisions were added until there was danger of engulfing the
village of Delton and even the cemetery two or three miles away. Those
with a speculative turn, far and near, purchased lots and blocks in the
upstart town, only to have the castle of disappointment fall about
their ears.
One day the gasconading inhabitants wore an expression of assurance,
the railroad, then approaching, would cross the river into their very
midst, and some of them did not hesitate to place fabulous valuations
on their property, but ere they were aware land had been purchased
where Kilbourn is located and a rival village sprung up almost in a
night, dashing the hopes of those residing in Newport. When the
railroad was built on the other side of the river, their spirits went
to the very depths. An effort was made to revive the hopes of those
with homes there, and one night there was a real "resurrection."
Speeches were made in defiance of the railroad magnates who dared to
attempt to obliterate their existence, songs were sung to cheer the
crestfallen, and a mammoth cake, blazing with many candles, graced the
banquet board.
All efforts were without avail, however, and it was not long before
there was a procession of buildings moving like prehistoric monsters
across the landscape, to Kilbourn and elsewhere. Where there was much
dancing and delight there is now naught but an air of desertion and
dreams.
Although Newport is as dead as Caesar's ghost, much remains of
interest. North of the bridge which spans Dell Creek are clumps of
lilac bushes, flanking half-filled cellar holes, where once stood
pioneer homes, the lilacs persisting since the disaster to the village
in the late sixties. Trees have taken possession of the main street of
the town, and where the proud villagers once discussed their fortunes
and misfortunes, there is slumberous delight.
Near the crest of the elevation in the woods about equally distant from
the river, bridge, and highway, is a cave where the brewer stored his
bibulous product for the intemperate tipplers. The chiseled cavity in
the sandstone rock persists to this day.
A beautiful walk leads to the north, following the river bank, once
frequented by rivermen, and no doubt by Indians, as they threaded the
trail in early times.
Over on the highway to the left, a quarter of a mile from the Dell
Creek bridge, stands "Dawn", the old Vanderpool residence, remodeled by
the late S. H. Kerfoot of Chicago. It is the only home remaining in
that section of the village.
Passing the bridge or other favored spots on the shore, one may see
fishermen contentedly waiting for a pickerel or pike oblivious to the
passing of time and the passer-by.
Indian Earthwork
At the rear of one of the cottages south of the bridge may be seen an
Indian mound of the lizard type. It has survived the trials and
tribulations of this interesting place.
A few rods to the south, at the rear of other cottages, a linear mound
may be seen. (As to why mounds were built see chapter on the Man
Mound.)
As previously noted, the Steele Tavern stood where the road from Delton
joins the main highway. This was one of the famous frontier places of
entertainment for travelers, journeying by stage or prairie schooner
from Milwaukee to La Crosse. For many years, long after the last
inhabitant had reluctantly left Newport, the homely hostelry defied
wind and weather until decay was devouring in every part. Although many
had become accustomed to the landmark for a generation or more, it was
no doubt a relief to all when it was pulled down and carted away.
Where They Danced
During the hop-growing times of the mid-sixties, pickers took
possession of the rambling, old tavern, using it to protect them from
inclement weather and as a place for frolicksome dances after the day's
duties were done. Here resounded the violin, and the prompter's voice,
above the music and gliding feet, was heard, in the quadrille, "The
Girl I Left Behind Me," to sing--
"First couple lead to the right,
Stop right there and balance;
Pass right through and balance, too,
And swing with the girl behind you.
Right and left four."
A Woodland Walk
A few rods to the southeast from the cottages, over a stile or two and
across a ravine, runs a road through the deep woods. Here one finds a
delightful walk of a little less than a mile, traversing the arboreal
slope, the sandy river bed, and a weathered rock which, at flood-time,
is an island in the stream. From a projecting point one obtains a view
of the Sugar Bowl, the Inkstand, and other delights of the Lower Dells.
Just south of the wooded road, at no great distance from the cottages,
a bald hill lifts itself above the surrounding landscape, richly
rewarding one if he decides to gain its treeless crest.
[Illustration: BRIDGE ACROSS DELL CREEK]
Although Newport was a noisy, busy place, crowded with adventurers
seeking the gold at the foot of the elusive rainbow, stirred with
martial music as the soldiers of the sixties drilled on the Vanderpool
green and departed for southern conflict fields, alive with the
rivermen who came and went with the departing of each vernal season,
the past gives an emphasis to the stilness that broods over it today.
No wonder summer cottagers seek the quiet here. The lingering
associations, the pleasant pathways, the changing river, with summer
clouds floating across the sky are fascinations not to be painted in
words.
[Illustration: COLDWATER CANYON
(Upper Dells.)]
[Illustration: SUGAR BOWL
(Lower Dells.)]