TRAMPS

TRAMPS

“Our systems of poor relief provide bountifully for all cases of real need, and in all ordinary times there is work enough for every one to do in this paradise of the poor man.”

                                        - A. O. Wright, Wisconsin State Board of charities and Reform, 1895

“Ay, 'tis God's will! That's what you'd have me say,
'Tis Heaven's decree that I should starve to-day!
'Tis Heaven-born justice you are rich, I poor,
That you, with curses, drive me from your door!”

                                - From “Rags to Riches” in the book “Low Down”, by Two Tramps, 1886

     In the early 1870’s something new happened in America.  The tramp appeared on the scene, seemingly as if from nowhere.  Suddenly headlines like: “A Railway Train Captured in Wisconsin – Great Excitement prevails throughout Southern Wisconsin on account of a sudden invasion of tramps from Iowa….They captured two freight trains going south through Madison.  At Madison a company of Militia and a large body of citizens met them yesterday morning, and after quite a tussle in the driving rain storm captured 47 of the tramps.  They were sentenced to 90 days’ work at breaking stones for streets…The tramps are fierce fellows, and in capturing trains they jump on the engines and direct engineers when to stop, manage brakes themselves, and stop in country places and raid on farm-houses for food, returning to trains when satisfied.  The Governor says …they will be driven from the state at the point of a bayonet.” 1 Who were they?  Where did they come from?

     In 1873 both Europe and the United States were thrown into a depression as investment firms and banks failed, over invested in railroad bonds and hurt by government tight money policies that caused interest rates to rise.  The result was massive unemployment and a seven year depression.  In Chicago the unemployment rate rose to over 30% as workers, who had helped rebuild the city after the great fire of 1871, were thrown out of work.  All these, combined with huge numbers of new immigrants led to epidemic homelessness.  Between 1868 and 1873 33,000 miles of new track were added by the railroads, and these provided the means for penniless armies of men, many Civil War veterans, to move about the country seeking work.  It also provided similar mobility to criminals and beggars. 

     Tramps wandered America for generations.  They were called “tramps” after the Civil War term that was used commonly to describe a long march.  The middle and upper classes reacted to tramps in a uniformly hostile manner.  Only the labor publications pointed out that many of these “tramps” were victims of hard times, out of work and penniless.  A typical response was that of the Wisconsin State Journal in an editorial of July 20, 1878:  “Tenderness toward tramps is condolence with communism and sympathy with scoundrels.  The horde of vicious ruffians now attempting to overrun this State deserve the severest treatment at the hands of the people and authorities of the commonwealth.  No tramp should be harbored even for a single night, or fed with a single meal; he will repay charity with murder, rape or robbery, and will revenge himself on his spurner with burning his house over his head, and maiming his animals or his orchard…The tramp, especially he who travels in a gang, is thoroughly bad and beyond redemption; he should receive no countenance beyond what the sheriff and an armed posse can give him.”2

Because anyone riding the rails or on the road was termed a tramp, it is hard to ascertain what their ranks were composed of.  No real attempts were made to study the causes of individual homelessness, and in fact a uniform distain prevailed which was very similar to the attitudes of the day toward African-Americans, namely that they were lazy, criminal, and a cancer on society.  “The tramp is a man who can be approached by no other motive but pain,” one author said “the pain of a thrashing or the pain of hunger.” 3  The newspapers did their part by sensationalizing each event and exaggerating the facts.  Fifty tramps became five hundred or five thousand waiting at the gates to invade and plunder.  The Milwaukee Journal carried this story: “TRAMPS STONE TRAINS – Three Sent to Lancaster Jail for Three Months.  BOSCOBEL, WIS., May 5 – Three tramps were arrested and committed to the county jail today for three months for throwing stones through moving passenger car windows.”4  The magic word “tramps” apparently made it more than a local news story. 

     The national hysteria continued well into the twentieth century.  Tramps were blamed for many acts that were no doubt those of local toughs.  One popular tendency was to blame fires on tramps.  Since there seemed to be no definition of “tramp”, other than that he was presumably not a local citizen, it was convenient to point the finger at the outsider.  A review of the newspapers shows that there were in fact plenty of local incendiaries.  In November of 1916 the Dubuque Telegraph Herald reported: “VILLAGE OF POTOSI NEARLY WIPED OUT.  CONFLAGRATION SWEEPS THE TOWN DESTROYING SIX BUSINESS HOUSES.  Potosi, Wi,.  Nov 13  Special – Fire, supposedly started by a tramp in the town Bastille and who is believed to have perished in the flames, nearly wiped out the business section of this city at an early hour this morning”   The Milwaukee Journal trumpeted “TRAMP SETS FIRE: NEARLY RUINS TOWN.”  Our local Lancaster Teller told a more mundane story.  The alleged “tramp” was one John Cranitch, described as “well known in this vicinity.”  Indeed, Cranitch was a resident of Potosi, and had been sentenced to Waupun three times by Judge Clementson.  Cranitch died in the fire.  Several years later (June 1919) another local business woman, Mrs. Sarah Swale, a restaurant operator after having increased her fire insurance burned down her business and with it six others.

     Tramps were also reputed to beg for food and take vengeance if refused.  Stories abounded of tramps stealing from the homes where they were given shelter for a night.  Mutilated livestock and burned orchards were blamed on tramp vengeance.  Tramps were alleged to intimidate rural farm wives to get food, and supposedly stole livestock to roast with numerous companion tramps in deep woods hideaways.  In April 1886 the following story ran in The Wisconsin State Journal and other papers as far away as Miles City, Montana: “As has heretofore been reported in these dispatches, tramps are infesting Grant county, stealing sheep, hogs and horses, and causing much trouble. John Stippich, a farmer by pursuit, recovered a pair of valuable 2 year-old colts that were stolen in the northeastern part of the county. A band of tramps have headquarters in a hut on Wisconsin river, and are raising terror generally by compelling women and children to yield to their demands and helping themselves to property which they take to their den, where they hold high carnival. A posse of men armed with muskets and headed by an officer are on their track.”   What did our local Lancaster Teller say about this?  Absolutely nothing!  The only story regarding tramps reported: “Three tramps “did” the good people of Lancaster on Monday.  On various pretexts they went about town begging money, food, and clothing, and met with fair success.  One purchased a pair of goggles and played the sore eye dodge, saying he wanted to get enough money to take him where he could have his eyes doctored.  He displayed a good-sized roll of bills when he bought the goggles, but pretended to others to have no money.  He was a bright and intelligent-appearing young man, and could find better business than begging if he were so disposed.”

     Tramps were almost universally viewed as lazy and unwilling to work, but sometimes a more balanced view broke through the pages of fantastic stories.  Many men and some women rode the rails as the tracks were laid across the country.  Many were killed by railroad employees who forced them to “hit the gravel” when traveling at high speeds: “Finally the “Con” (Conductor) climbed down and stepped on my fingers, so I had to let go”  9 one man wrote.  Many of these travelers were migrant workers, working in the farm harvests, or just seeking work.  In July of 1904 in Sioux City, Iowa it was reported that up to eighteen hundred “tramps, wanderers, immigrant workmen, and ordinary vags” had passed through the city in the past week.  Reports flew that the railroad was under control of the tramps.  The railroad denied it: “We have no complaint to make.  The men are going through here by the thousand, but it happens every year.  There are more this year than ever before because there is a bumper crop to handle.  It is this class that will aid the farmer in harvesting, and this railroad has no objection to helping the farmers with the crops.” A Conductor when asked if he could control the riders said they just wanted to ride and he had no objection if they behaved.  Another Northwestern official explained “many of them have not done much work since spring and are out of money and so look for free rides.”

     In 1894 The Milwaukee Journal reported that hard times during the panic of 1873, and the long years of depression which followed caused the advent of the tramp: “banks tumbled all over the country and in a short time general business was almost paralyzed:  factories closed or reduced their working force and wages, and it was then that the gangs of tramps were first seen wandering aimlessly from town to town, begging or stealing enough to keep from starvation."  The economic conditions remained poor into the 1890’s.  Despite the Social Darwinism of the times, and the myth that any man could find work, it was not the case.  Despite the pronouncements of the authorities of the day, the systems of poor relief were wholly inadequate to ameliorate the gyrating effects of a growing industrial civilization, and of mechanization which displaced thousands of workers, rural and urban.

A tramp poet wrote the following:

                They asked me what made me so thin and so pale,

                And I told them, dear Nessy, our sorrowful tale:

                How father had died, and mother—so weak—

                Had toiled and toiled our living to seek:

                How we often went bare, and hungry oft,

                And how mamma grew thinner and paler and coughed;

               And we had no fire, and we had no bread,

               And at last mamma lay on the hearthstone dead,

               And they brought us here.—I had oft to repeat

               My story to those who have plenty to eat. 

     What happened to those civil War veterans who took to the road in the 1870’s?  In 1896, a newspaper reporter visited some of the wandering old soldiers.  “These men were “soldier tramps.”  He wrote “They seemed to be proud of their soldier records.  When the call for troops was sounded in the early sixties, they had enlisted in the army; they served until the war closed and then they became wanderers.  Some time ago this class of men was quite numerous, but is fast thinning out.  Its decrease is accounted for principally, if not entirely, by the age of the men.  The death rate among them is large, and as the weight of the years becomes increasingly heavier, they cease their meanderings and put into the soldiers’ homes…  Two were brothers, and they told with a touch of pride that they had not been separated for twenty years.  It seemed that they served throughout the war in a Wisconsin regiment.  They spent a year after the war closed at their old home, and then took to the road… They had become tramps, they said, and they enjoyed the life.” 

With time these men died.  Some died in the woods, frozen or starved.  Some died in poor houses or soldiers homes.  No doubt some found steady work, settled down, and had families.  Some were unrepentant criminals, who spend many months and years in jails and prisons all over America.  Some were alcoholics living for the next glass of rot gut. Where did they come from?  Many came from cities, and armies disbanded.  Who were they?  They were the sometimes not so invisible homeless, despised and hounded with far fewer avenues of help than exist today.  We keep our homeless out of the press, anonymous to regular “normal” citizens passing them by, and maybe that is worse

THE EPIDEMIC THAT CRIPPLED A NAVY CRUISER

DEATH SHIP

                                                             By Dennis A. Wilson

Mysterious Photo from “Unknown” file at GCHS

     In the unknown persons and places file at the Cunningham are many photos of people waiting for a name and of events waiting for explanation.  This is one of those photographs: A gathering of men, women and children stand beside a long raised mound covered with crosses.  Each cross bears a name and a U.S. flag.  In the foreground a marker reads "QUADRO No. 24" which in portuguese means" frame or box no. 24."  I was able to read two of the names on the crosses; I.D. Renfro and W.L. Foegley, and from that came this story.  How it relates to Grant County, and why the photo is here remains a mystery.

     The USS Pittsburg was launched on April 18, 1903.  It was first named the Pennsylvania, an armored cruiser, displacing 13,680 tons with a compliment of 41 officers and 850 men.   In early 1911 the ship was fitted with a wooden platform 120 feet long and 30 feet wide for an attempt at landing a plane on a ship.  On January 18, 1911 Eugene Ely landed his Curtis pusher biplane on the Pennsylvania, the first airplane landing on a ship.  The future was obvious and in time the carrier would become the backbone of naval power. 

     The Pennsylvania was renamed the USS Pittsburg on August 27, 1912 to free up the name USS Pennsylvania for a newer and bigger battleship.  For the rest of her service life, the ship was designated ACR-4 USS Pittsburgh.  The ship was decommissioned July 10, 1931, used for bombing practice, and then sold for scrap.  The story told by our mysterious photo involves the activities of the USS Pittsburg in the year 1918.  That was the year of the great influenza pandemic, the “Spanish Flu” which swept the world through 1920 and killed at least 50 million.

     The Spanish Flu had made its first appearance in Rio de Janeiro in mid September of 1918.  In October the Pittsburgh docked there.  The ship’s captain, George “Blackjack” Bradshaw, knowing of the epidemic in the city, allowed working parties to go ashore and gave liberty to many crewmembers. The Pittsburgh at that time was also the flagship for rear admiral William Caperton who wrote about the sickness on board.  Admiral Caperton, writing to the Fleet Surgeon about the crew of the Pittsburgh said, “On Board the ship the sick list reached a total of 663 (which was 80% of the crew on board), with a final death toll of 58. The efforts of all hands were devoted solely to the care of the sick, and practically the whole ship was given over to them.”  The first two flu cases on board occurred October 7^th.  The first to die was Seaman E. L. Williams on October 13^th. Caperton later wrote: “By … the 11th, there were 418 cases of influenza in the flagship, so that her activities for any duty were becoming handicapped. The seriousness of the situation was cabled to the Department.  On the 14th of October 644 cases had been admitted to the sick list, with about 350 more light ones not listed. One man died the day before. On the 15th three had died, the Commanding Officer, his heads of department and two members of my staff were sick, while the disease raged unabated in Rio where conditions defied description…. Conditions in the ship were rapidly becoming worse. More than half of the hospital corps were ill, and help was commandeered from all ratings and from the junior officers of the line. And the drizzle and the rain which had set in during the early days of the epidemic continued fitfully, rendering it difficult to find room for the cots of the sick who had been kept on deck in the open, during the good weather. Ashore people died like flies, and many lay in the streets for two or three days waiting interment, even a hole in the corner of a trench. By the 18th, twelve of the 48 pneumonia cases had died in the Pittsburgh. Further caskets could not be obtained ashore, at any price, and the burial of our men became an urgent necessity. On the 21st of October 16 bodies were taken from the Pittsburgh and landed for burial in the Sao Francisco Xavier Cemetery. Notwithstanding the previous arrangement with cemetery authorities for the opening of 20 graves, the funeral cortege arrived at the cemetery and found no graves prepared. Those destined for us had been used by others. We were finally compelled to dig the graves for our own dead shipmates. Conditions in the cemetery beggared description. Eight hundred bodies in all states of decomposition, and lying about in the cemetery, were awaiting burial. Thousands of buzzards swarmed overhead.”

     Eventually the bodies of 41 of the 58 dead were buried in the Sao Francisco Xavier Cemetery.   In Rio de Janeiro, at least 30,000 dies from the influenza.  From the website shown below I got a partial list of the 41 buried in Rio de Janeiro. http://freepages.military.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~cacunithistories/USS_Pennsylvania.html

     From this list I was able to identify the photograph from our file by matching the names.  In the spring of 1920, with the help of Rear Admiral Henry F. Bryan, the crew of the USS Pittsburgh erected a 20 ft tall white granite monument which read: “Erected by the crew of the USS Pittsburgh, in memory of their shipmates who died from the influenza, October-November 1918.”  Perhaps this photo was taken at that time. 

     On page 171 of the Annual Report of the Surgeon General, U. S. Navy, for the fiscal year 1919 to the Secretary of the Navy the following is written:

“All but 42 of these bodies were embalmed and shipped to the United States. On January 30, 16 standard metal caskets were received on the U. S. S. Cyclops and the U. S. S. Pueblo brought 12 more in November. The cost of metal-lined hermetically sealed caskets with shipping box is $750 United States gold on this station. Our metal caskets are in store in Bahia, Rio, and Montevideo. Forty-two bodies have been interred in the San Francisco Xavier Cemetery in Rio. All but one of these were victims of the influenza epidemic, the exception being the body of the enlisted man attached to the U. S. S. Cyclops who was drowned and due to the long immersion in the water was so badly decomposed that shipment to the United States was impossible. The 41victims of influenza are interred in the same plot of the cemetery, each grave marked with a simple wooden cross on which the name of the deceased is stenciled, and in addition each grave is numbered in accordance with the cemetery regulations. A plan of the plot, designating the individual graves has been forwarded to the bureau and one given the cemetery and a third copy is in the files of the consulate at Rio.”

On May 30, 1919 The Indianapolis Star carried the following story: “Washington, May 29, -Bodies of forty-one former members of the crew of the Pittsburgh are buried in Rio Janeiro in a plot purchased by the navy and on which has been erected a marble monument inscribed with the names and ratings of the men.  Memorial ceremonies at the graves tomorrow will be directed by Rear Admiral Henry F. Bryan, head of the American naval mission to Brazil.”

"RIO JANERO. Sept 27 - The American scout cruiser Richmond arrived here last night, having encountered heavy weather and rough seas on the last part of her trip from Buenos Aires. When the Richmond leaves for the United States she will carry the bodies of the forty American sailors and marines, members of the crew of the U. S. S. Pittsburgh, who died in Brazil in the influenza epidemic of 1918. The bodies will be taken aboard without formal ceremonies. "

    And so I come back to the cemetery photo above, which was tucked away in our file of unknowns for decades with no marking or annotation of any kind.  Why is it here? Perhaps someone reading this will know the full story of its presence in Grant County. Perhaps that part of the story is lost forever.

Sources

1.      “CR-4 USS Pennsylvania / USS Pittsburgh” a website, by Joe Hartwell at: http://freepages.military.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~cacunithistories/USS_Pennsylvania.html

2.      “Study suggests 1918 flu waves were caused by 'distinct' viruses”, by Robert Roos   News Editor, Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy, University of Minnesota at: http://www.cidrap.umn.edu/cidrap/content/influenza/panflu/news/sep2911panwaves.html

3.      “Thirty thousand Die of Flu in Rio De Janero” in The Oxnard Courier , Oxnard, California , Friday, December 06, 1918, Page 8

4.      “Remember Dead in Brazil” Article in the Indianapolis Star, Friday May 30, 1919, page 2

5.      “Annual Report of the Surgeon General, U. S. Navy, for the fiscal year 1919 to the Secretary of the Navy” Google Books page 171

6.      “Richmond To Bring Home Sailors Bodies” AP news story in The Danville Bee, Danville, Virginia, Thursday, September 27, 1923, page 1

POISON ROSE ?

“Poisoners are sneaky; Non-confrontational; Insidious; because the victim doesn’t stand a chance.  Although most known poisoners are men, he thinks that most criminal poisoners are actually female – they’re just better at getting away with it. It is women who care take the sick, make the meals, clean the house… and when they end lives with poisons, they are not as often caught.  Almost half (!) of the poisoners who have been caught had more than one victim.”

       – From an interview with John Harris Trestrail III, author of “Criminal Poisoning: An Investigational Guide for Law Enforcement, Toxicologists, Forensic Scientists, and Attorneys.”

     Perhaps Rose had read the accounts of Christina Edmunds, the infamous British poisoner who had fallen in love with her doctor in 1871 and subsequently killed his wife by feeding her sweetmeats laced with Strychnine.  To cover her own guilt and implicate her confectioner, she had laced chocolate creams in his shop with the same poison, killing an innocent 9 year old boy.   Perhaps she had read in The Weekly Wisconsin of May 3, 1890 the account of Dan Allen, a respected Neillsville farmer who while engaged in an extramarital affair with his neighbors wife conspired with her to kill her husband and his wife with arsenic and strychnine.  Perhaps she saw the poison in Dr. Mitchell’s cabinet and conceived of the plan knowing only that it was an effective rat killer.  Perhaps she didn’t commit the crime at all.  Opinion was divided between ardent advocates of her guilt and fervent defenders who saw an innocent young woman prosecuted and convicted on scant evidence.

     This was not a Grant County crime.  The death being tried as a murder occurred in Richland Center, county seat of our northern neighbor.  A change of venue brought it all to Grant County, and the courtroom of Judge George Clementson.

     Rose Zoldoske (also spelled “Zoldoski” in some accounts) was born and raised in Ithaca, Wisconsin. She had moved to Richland Center in 1888 and rented a room in the home of Doctor G. R. (George Ray) Mitchell and his wife Laura.  She became a friend and confidant of Mrs. Mitchell, and helped to care for their ten year old son Freddy.  Rose found work in Mrs. Wilson’s millinery shop, and became friends with other young women in her church.  In February of 1890 Laura Mitchell had a baby she named Lottie.  She was ill for weeks after the baby’s birth, and Rose took on the job of caring for the child.  On March 25^th her illness worsened and she went into convulsions.  She died within hours.  In the months that followed Rose, along with an elderly roomer and a “hired girl” named Annie McLaren cared for Freddy and the baby. 

      Later, when the shadow of suspicion fell on her for the poisoning death of one of her friends, the stories and rumors flew.  She was alleged to be in love with the handsome doctor, and insanely jealous of others who received his notice.  Here is what happened:

     On the night of January 8, 1891 Rose Zoldoske invited a few of her friends to her home (Dr. Mitchells House) for a party.  Among those invited were sisters Ella (age 23) and Lilly Maly.  The guests were served oyster soup, oranges, and cake.  Before eating, Rose said she was sick and went up to her room.  A friend went up to see her, and Rose, she alleged asked her to send up Ella Maly.  They talked for a while and then Rose came down and joined the group.  At about eight o’clock Ella and Lilly decided to go home.  Rose called them into the room where their coats were and from a bag She poured some chocolate creams into her hand and gave them to Ella, then she poured more into her hand and gave them to Lilly.  She had purchased chocolate creams earlier in the day from two different shops.  As she left, Ella ate one of the chocolate creams she had just received.  A few moments later she ate another, commenting to her sister that it tasted bitter.  Within minutes she felt a strange sensation in her legs, then in her arms.  She said she could walk no further and fell in the snow beginning to convulse.  Doctor Mitchell and another doctor named Haskell were called.  Ella was taken to her parent’s home where she suffered convulsions until midnight when morphine and chloroform were administered by the doctors to ease her suffering.  Soon the convulsions returned and she died at 7 a.m. on January 9, 1891.

Ella and Lilly Maly

     Rose went to work the next day, not knowing that Ella had died.  When she was told she became ill and was assisted in getting home by her employer, Mrs. Wilson.  Later in the morning Dr. Mitchell came home and told her she was under suspicion of poisoning Miss Maly.  After He left she became ill again and went up to her room where, Anne McLaren testified she commenced to moan.  McLaren said she went up to check on her and later testified that Rose said to her: “Suppose there was poison found in Ella’s stomach, could they tell what the poison was taken in? If one was sentenced to the penitentiary, would it be a life sentence?”  The hired girl allegedly replied: “I suppose the house will be searched, so that they can ascertain if there is anything about the house to cause suspicion to rest upon it.”  She testified that Rose went upstairs and soon returned with a small package in her hand that she threw into the stove. The hired girl testified that Rose then discussed with her the death of Mrs. Mitchell, and said that she might have eaten poison also, and been persuaded by Dr. Mitchell  to take it.  Rose went to the funeral of Ella Maly, collapsed and had to be assisted out of the church.

    A post mortem exam of the body of Ella Maly was conducted by a specialist, Professor Haines, who later testified that he had extracted three eights of a grain of strychnine from the contents of her stomach and liver.  One half grain of the poison (the equivalent of one tenth of a 325mg aspirin tablet) was stated as sufficient to constitute a fatal dose.  The body of Mrs. Mitchell was exhumed, and her stomach was sent to Rush Medical Institute in Chicago and a small amount of strychnine was extracted from the contents of her stomach.  During the trial Dr. Mitchell was questioned about Mrs. Mitchell’s final illness.  He stated that he listed her death as from convulsions. When asked how he treated his wife he stated he had administered “nux vomica” to her.  Nux vomica is a medication made from the seeds (usually ground) of the strychnine tree (Strychnos nux-vomica L.) which is also known as nux vomica.  In those days doctors used opiates, cocaine, and poisons rather liberally as the following from a medical journal indicates:

“Another group of drugs which, in some instances, serve me well are strontian salts and nux vomica. Nux vomica has been very satisfactory, continuing it over a long time. Such dose is given as produces physiological effects, then reducing the dose, bearing in mind always that the patients become accustomed to the remedy. From time to time you may increase the dose in order to get its effects. In this manner I have had patients take as much as one hundred drops of tincture of nux vomica three times daily. In another instance with the nux vomica given in this manner and the morphine at night, watching the effects and gradually diminishing the dose of morphine, I have one patient absolutely cured.” – From “Clinical Notes on Asthma and its Treatment” by Beverley Robinson M.D., in the Therapeutic Gazette, January 16, 1899

     Dr. Mitchell testified that he had a labeled bottle of strychnine (the purified chemical extracted from nux vomica) kept in his medicine cabinet, which he had used before his wife’s death to treat cheese used to kill mice and rats which had gotten into the house. He said that he had examined the bottle and could notice no difference in the amount of poison in the bottle after his wife and Ella Maly had died.  Rose Zoldoske was taken to jail on January 14th, and charged with the murder of Ella Maly.  Her trial began in June 1891.

     At the request of her lawyer the trail was moved to Grant County.  Large numbers of people witnessed the trial and it was the talk of the county.   Rose made a good impression on the people of Lancaster.  She was photographed in her jail cell surrounded by floral wreaths and bouquets sent by the young women of Lancaster.  Mr. Joseph T. Bennett of Lancaster said that the demand for photographs of her was so great they could not keep up.  The photo in the Title poster was taken by Lancaster Photographer Van De Wall.  When the trial began Zoldoske’s lawyer requested that the witnesses for the prosecution not be allowed to be present in courtroom to hear the testimony of the other prosecution witnesses.  Judge Clementson said, “I see no really good reason why this rule should be enforced in this case” and denied the request.  Testimony was given that Ella had accompanied Dr, Mitchell to Practices for church concerts and had walked her home a time or two, the inference being that this had caused Rose to become jealous and fear that he would marry Ella instead of her.  A witness also testified that before her death Mrs. Mitchell had said to her that if she (Mrs. Mitchell) should die the doctor would be paying attention to Rose within two months, and would marry her within six months.  Others testified that Rose had asked several women, and had also written a letter to a local doctor name Lovering asking them to put a good word in for her with Doctor Mitchell.  Those witnesses said she had offered them money for this service.  Though Rose’s attorney never let her testify in her own defense; she later said the doctor lied about her having sent him a letter.  She said the discussions with the women were in jest and they often made this sort of prattle. She stated that she had not poisoned either Ella Maly or Mrs. Mitchell.  There was no evidence submitted to show that Rose Zoldoske ever had possession of any poison, nor was any other physical evidence submitted tying her to the crime.  District Attorney Bryhan of Richland Center told the jury, mostly Grant county farmers, that the evidence was circumstantial; “little incidents standing alone seem of little importance”, he said, but “when brought together to support each other they bring a great fact into view.”  Her attorney, L. H. Bancroft said that the witnesses against Rose were “vinegary old maids” and continued: “In March 1890, Mrs. Mitchell was confined.  A babe was born who still lives. She was sick for a week. Had convulsions through the week, such as the one in which she died. Soon after her death the gossips had it that Rose Zoldoske would now soon be Mrs. Mitchell, and the gossips did the rest of it…The defendant had nothing to do with preparing the supper at the party.  She wanted him (Freddie) to get it (the candy), but he declined. The girls went into the room and Rose passed the paper of candy, both receiving some. For a period of 11 hours she (Ella Maly) survived….Physicians reported at the inquest that Ella Maly died a natural death.”  After testimony from women she had called friends, and others she alleged were lying, she was found guilty by a jury that at first had been divided.  Jurors later said that the foreman of the jury, Charles H. Baxter, later a state senator, had forcefully argued for conviction and even threatened physical violence against the last two men on the jury who held out for her innocence.  They had acquiesced reluctantly.

     After entering the penitentiary, large numbers of citizens signed petitions asking Governor Peck to pardon her.  Signatures came from all the cities and towns of Grant County.  Much of the opinion was that she had been convicted by the rumor mongering citizens of Richland Center, and on no other real evidence. The case was appealed to the State Supreme Court on several bases: that it was entirely based on circumstantial evidence and unsubstantiated witness testimony regarding her comments;  That other hypothesis could be drawn from the testimony and evidence to implicate others, including Freddie and Dr. Mitchell;  That the court in its instructions to the jury allowed a presumption of guilt solely because Rose did not introduce evidence or testify;   That Maly lived too long after the onset of her symptoms for it to be attributed to strychnine, which is known to cause death in 2 -3 hours;  That evidence of the cause of Mrs. Mitchell’s death should not have been allowed in evidence because the issue at trial was the death of Ella Maly (Judge Clementson had instructed the jury that if they believed that Mrs. Mitchell’s death was caused by strychnine poisoning and not the nux vomica Dr. Mitchell administered they could consider that in deciding whether Ella Maly’s death was an accident or not)  ;  That the judge instructed the jury to determine if strychnine was the cause of death, and separately to determine if it was a suicide or accidental ingestion.  The Supreme Court refused to overturn the conviction, and in 1894 Governor Peck refused to consider a pardon.

     In January of 1897 Governor W. H. Upham pardoned Rose on the last day of his term of office.  Editorial opinion on the whole favored his action.  “It has been the opinion of the greater part of the Wisconsin press” one editor wrote “that Rose was not guilty of the crime for which she was serving sentence.  She was found guilty of murder in the first degree by a jury, which verdict was rendered after listening to a chain of evidence which was purely and wholly circumstantial.”  The State Register editorialized; “The people of the state are nearly unanimous in the opinion that Miss Zoldoski was innocent and those who have followed the testimony and have judged from the circumstances surrounding the case and trial, outside of Richland Center, are practically unanimous in the opinion that she was not guilty.”  Judge George Clementson was outraged by Gov. Upham’s action: “The pardon of rose Zoldoske I regard as a perversion of justice and an outrageous exercise of the pardoning power.  When the trial was ended I was absolutely convinced that Rose Zoldoske was guilty of murdering Ella Maly with premeditated design and that it was also very probable that she had murdered Mrs. Mitchell a year before by poisoning her with strychnine.  I regard this pardon as one that will greatly add to the feeling …that our present methods of dealing with criminals are inadequate for the protection of the people and that it will give another excuse for the exercise of mob law.”

     Was she guilty, a conniving plotter seeking to secure a doctor for a spouse?  Was she innocent of the crime? She seemed a person somewhat prone to hysterics and morbid speculation. Was she made a scapegoat by a community looking for a monster?  In December of 1891 the Baltimore American carried a column headed “Arsenic in Their Cheese” which continued “Richland Center, Wis. This city seems likely to furnish another sensational poisoning case.  Daniel Barry and family, and two sons in law and their families reside in one house in this city.  Last Wednesday afternoon Mrs. Barry made a quantity of cheese, and Thursday night five members of the family partook liberally of the same.  About ten o’clock those who ate of the cheese were taken deathly sick.  Doctors stated the illness was caused by poison.  A piece of cheese was taken to Dr. Mitchell, who stated it contained arsenic.”

Rose Zoldoske was in prison and so could not be held responsible.

     After her pardon Rose left the State and moved to Oklahoma to live with her father.  She does not appear under the name Zoldoske in later census reports, so presumably she married and lived a quiet life.  Many of her brother’s descendants still live in Oklahoma.  Dr. Mitchell continued to practice medicine in Richland Center. Initially his practice suffered. In November of 1892 he married Minnie German. Her family opposed the marriage. His son Frederick “Freddie” Mitchell became a physician. Another son by Minnie German Mitchell, George W. Mitchell, became a member of the Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve. In 1917 Dr. Mitchell and his wife moved to Madison.

DARK AS A DUNGEON - MINING DISASTERS IN SOUTHWEST WISCONSIN

In a Mine Near Cassville

The midnight, the morning, or the middle of day,
Is the same to the miner who labors away.
Where the demons of death often come by surprise,
One fall of the slate and you're buried alive

CHORUS:

It's dark as a dungeon and damp as the dew,

Where danger is double and pleasures are few,

Where the rain never falls and the sun never shines

It's dark as a dungeon way down in the mine.

                        ----Merle Travis

   

 Mining was the first honey that drew settlers to Grant County. Lead was like gold, a way to get rich, and an opportunity for the everyman pushing across the forests and prairies into the Northwest Territory.  Those who came here first were a tough lot, and mining was a tough business.  Aside from the physical exertion and the risk of ruining your body, mining offered many opportunities for a fast death:  Falls down mine shafts, crushing cave-ins, lung disease and the risk of being blown to bits by explosives. We don't hear much about mining accidents, but they happened and the results were disastrous.  The archives are filled with death records for individual miners, and sometimes whole communities were struck by even more horrible events.

     We do not need to look hard for the newspaper clippings.  They tell the tragic stories, sometimes as routine items and sometimes in screaming headlines.  God help the family that lost their man to the mines.  One mine poet, Tommy Armstrong put it to verse in 1883:

"February left behind it what will never be forgot;

Weeping widows, helpless children,

May be found in many a cot,

Homes that once were blest with comfort

Guarded by a father's care,

Now are solemn, sad and gloomy,

Since the father is not there"

     Those who lost the support of the breadwinner could face grim prospects; farming out or adoption of the children by strangers, many of whom were looking for child laborers; placement in the county asylum (if there was one), or cruel want- perhaps to the point of starvation.

William Warner, who rose to become mayor of Kansas City, and Senator from Missouri, was born in Shullsburg, Wisconsin on June 11, 1840.   At the age of six he was left an orphan, with seven brothers and sisters who could not support themselves or him.  In desperation, he began picking ore from the refuse piles at the mine and selling them to the smelters to eke out a living.  Abandoned children were not uncommon in those days.  His self improvement; learning to read and then studying the law was a testament to his hard work and intelligence.  Most children did not fare as well.

Senator William Warner of Missouri

     The death of an individual in the mines was little cause for note.  The death records show the name with the cause "mine accident".  The Dubuque Telegraph Herald of October 2, 1907 carried the following in the Potosi News section:  "Jos. Gerhardt, while working in the Wisconsin Mine in British Hollow last week, was caved upon in a drift.  He was taken out at once by his fellow workmen to the main shaft, but while ascending he fainted and fell back in the cage.  He was caught by the timbers in the shaft, and upon examination it was found that several ribs were broken, and his head bruised and cut."  This appeared along with news of visits and engagements-everyday things.

     And then there were the bigger disasters, the ones which haunt the darkest dreams of mining towns.  Shortly after Christmas in 1909 the Benton area lived the nightmare.  “Blast Victims Torn to Shreds at Benton” the Dubuque Telegraph Herald headline of December 29, 1907 screamed.  Another newspaper headed the story with “Blown to Pieces by Dynamite Charge.”  The Telegraph Herald reporter wrote; “Southwestern Wisconsin, hardened to mine disasters which have brought sorrow to scores of homes in former years, shudders today with the awfulness of the catastrophe which yesterday exacted a toll of four lives at the Ollie Bell mine, a miles south of this place.” Just after work, four men were seen walking toward an eight by ten foot mine shack on a hillside where 75 lbs. of dynamite were thawing out for use.  In a millisecond they were gone and pieces of flesh and bone, splinters and rock were raining down on those gathered at a distance.  The dead were: 

          Edward Sullivan, age 36, married with two children

          Thomas Clegg, age 35, married with two children

          John Oldberg, age 40, married with two children

          Charles Morton, age 23, unmarried

Only the body of Sullivan was recognizable, hurled a hundred feet with his body intact. Only pieces were left of Clegg and Oldberg.  Nothing but a few flesh stripped bones was found of Morton.

In 1917 the grim reaper of miners returned, this time to Montfort and the Hump Development Company’s lead and zinc mine.  This time only one, Peter G. Peterson was taken.  Eight were maimed.  It happened just before work, while the men were in the “change” room dressing for their shift.  In that room was a case of a thousand dynamite caps, each with a “lifting power” of 800 pounds.   The mine superintendant, Theodore A. Watch said he couldn’t explain the cause of the explosion, or why explosive caps were stored in that room.  This time there was action taken.  The Wisconsin Industrial Commission ordered compensation to the widow, Verna Peterson, and two of the disabled who had filed claims.  These were paid by the employer’s insurance company.  The owners were ordered to pay an additional penalty of $1500.00 to the victims from their own pockets.

     In 1943 the mines were open and running at high capacity 24 hours a day to meet the war needs of the country.  Employment had returned to the mines of Southwest Wisconsin.  The Mulcahy mine in Shullsburg was no exception.  At about noon on February 9, 1943 two men, William Rooney and John Stevens were repairing shoring in the first drift, 30 feet wide, eight feet high, and 200 feet long about 108 feet below the surface when the ceiling beams gave way and the mine caved in, killing them.  Miners from the Mulcahy and nearby Gill mines rushed to the scene and a crew descended into the mine to try to save the two men.  They worked feverishly trying to dig the men out and shore up the run.  At 1:30 p.m. a second collapse occurred, killing six more men.

     There were at least 15 children left fatherless.  Other miners came and they dug out the eight bodies.  The Associated Press reported that Sheriff Curry said “identification was difficult.”  The dead were taken to funeral homes in Shullsburg, Platteville, Galena and Cuba City.  Church bells rang and funerals followed.  The dead were:

          William “Buck” Rooney, age 47, Shullsburg

          John Stephens, age 55, Benton

          Maynard Howell, age 37, Platteville

          Russell Farrey, age 40, Shullsburg

          Walter Mauthe, age 52, Elk Grove

          Nelson Jones, age 20, Mineral Point

          John Griffin, age 70, Jenkynsville

          Romano Luciani, age 32, Darlington

      Lafayette County Coroner Gordon Roselip convened a coroner’s jury at the sight, took testimony from six witnesses and concluded that “it was an unavoidable accident caused by cave-ins.”  The Wisconsin State Industrial Commission did not accept the coroner’s word as final but ordered an investigation to be conducted by the state mining engineer.

      As the years passed most of the mines in our part of the state closed and our economy found other staples for employment of the populace.  Mine accidents still happen in the state, despite all efforts to mitigate the danger.  On October 19, 1949 an accident occurred at a mine at Shullsburg which had been touted as “one of the newest, largest and most modernly equipped lead and zinc mines in Southwestern Wisconsin.”  This mine was operated by the Calumet and Hecia Consolidated Copper Company.  It was another cave-in 330 feet underground.  John Hebenstreit, age 25 of Shullsburg died and another miner was seriously injured. The latest fatality I could find for Wisconsin Mines was in the year 2000 when a miner’s clothing was trapped in a machine auger.

     There is little doubt that lack of regulation contributed to these disasters.  Before the twentieth century there was little government regulation of mines.  In 1915, the state Industrial Commission (IC) promulgated orders setting forth safety standards for zinc mines.  By 1922, the agency was issuing orders for to all mines regarding explosives, hoists, shaft ventilation, and other dangerous aspects of mine operation. In 1957 the Legislature gave the Industrial Commission authority to actually conduct safety inspections every two months.

     And so a salute to our miners, mostly gone yet they remain emblazoned on our state flag.  They helped to build our state and they will forever be a part of the history of our area, for they took a frontier and turned it into a state.  John Wallace Crawford wrote the following in Virginia City Nevada, another mining frontier:

Only a miner killed -- oh! is that all?

One of the timbers caved, great was the fall,

Crushing another one shaped like his God.

Only a miner lad -- under the sod.

Only a miner killed, just one more dead.

Who will provide for them -- who earn their bread?

--Wife and little ones: pity them, God,

Their earthly father is under the sod.

Only a miner killed, dead on the spot,

Poor hearts are breaking in yonder lone cot.

He died at his post, a hero as brave

As any who sleeps in a marble top grave.

Only a miner killed! God, if thou wilt,

Just introduce him to Vanderbilt,

Who, with his millions, if he is there,

Can't buy one interest -- even one share.

Only a miner, bury him quick;

Just write his name on a piece of a stick.

Though humble and plain be the poor miner's grave

Beyond, all are equal, the master and slave.

WE DON’T NEED IT IN PAINT

In 1991, the Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services called lead the "number one environmental threat to the health of children in the United States." Old lead-based paint is the most significant source of lead exposure in the U.S. today.  The effects of lead exposure on fetuses and young children can be severe. They include delays in physical and mental development, lower IQ levels, shortened attention spans, and increased behavioral problems.  Now we are trying to remove all old paint.  If they only knew in 1939!

JOSEPH TROTTER MILLS - ABOLITIONIST, JUDGE AND LEGISLATOR

By Dennis A. Wilson

Judge J. T. Mills has been the subject of a number of articles.  Jon Angeli wrote about him in three articles in the Grant county Herald Independent.  You can read these stories on his web site under the year 2004 at: http://www.grantcountyhistorian.com/ .  It would seem that with as many written accounts of his life and activities there would be nothing left to say: but I’ll try anyway.  

Joseph Trotter Mills was born on December 13, 1812 on Cane Ridge, near Paris, in Bourbon County Kentucky. He was the eighth of twelve children.2  His mother’s family was originally from Augusta County, Virginia.  Judge Mills’s maternal grandfather, James Trotter, was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Kentucky Militia under General Josiah Harmar in the 1790 campaign against the Miami tribe, and also fought in the American Revolutionary War.  His paternal grandfather, Benjamin Mills was a private in the 6th Maryland Regiment of Foot in the Revolution.1 His uncle was a judge in the court of appeals of Kentucky.5

It is reported that his family were slaveholders at one time, but gave up their slaves, and thereafter assisted slaves in escaping across the Ohio River.4 Judge Mills was a very religious man and in Kentucky prior to 1850 there was a significant anti-slavery movement led by the Whig party and the Presbyterian, Baptist, and Methodist Episcopal churches.3 It is not improbable that his family members under this influence freed their slaves. Mill, a Sunday school teacher, became an abolitionist before leaving Kentucky. As time went on anti-slavery individuals and the organizations they belonged to in Kentucky were harassed, and no doubt J. T. Mills decided upon the course of leaving the environs of that state.

In 1833 he walked to Illinois College in Jacksonville, the first college in that state to conduct classes (1829) and grant a baccalaureate degree.  Among the alumni of this school are William Jennings Bryan (class of 1881), as well as two senators, twenty congressmen, and six state governors. This institution was under the leadership of President Edward Beecher, Congregational minister, graduate of Yale, and an outspoken abolitionist. Beecher started the first anti-slavery society in Illinois, and was a close friend of Elijah Lovejoy, a Presbyterian minister who was killed by a mob attacking his abolitionist press in Alton, Illinois in 1837.  Beecher’s sister Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote the book Uncle Tom’s Cabin, which many credit with precipitating the Civil War.

Mills did not complete his studies at Illinois College.  General Zachary Taylor, residing in fort Crawford, Prairie Du Chien wrote Beecher asking for a tutor for his children.  Mills was offered the job, and left for Fort Crawford in September of 1834.  At Quincy Illinois the defeated Chief Blackhawk returning from his eastern tour came on board, and Judge Mills recalled how “sad and dejected” he seemed. He arrived at Fort Crawford shortly after Lieutenant Jefferson Davis, future President of the Confederacy, had allegedly eloped with General Taylor’s daughter, Sarah Knox Taylor, known as “Knoxie” to her family.  Judge Mills was sure that the elopement did happen, because he heard rumors among the soldiers about it. Taylor did oppose the marriage.  As he said; “I’ll be damned if another daughter of mine will marry into the army.  I know enough about the family life of officers.  I scarcely know my own children or they me.  I have no objection to Lieutenant Davis as a man.”5 They were married in General Taylor’s sister’s home in Louisville Kentucky. Tragically, she died of “fever” a few months later.

Judge Mills did not like General Taylor, who would in the future become President of The United States.  He said Taylor was uncouth and bullying in his manner, and he “failed to discover any particular trait worthy of admiration.”7  He was also less than impressed with Prairie Du Chien.  The town was a hodgepodge of shacks and Wigwams. “By the light of a lard-oil lamp I could discover full-blood and half-blood Indian faces, tangled and platted hair, black as a raven’s wing, all stretched out upon the floors, and the mosquitoes, fleas and bed bugs in thousands would satisfy any census bureau. As I watched, my whole being, flesh and blood was curdled into one mass of disgust and shame when I saw a shriveled faced dame catch one of these blood swelled vampires and thrust it into her nursling’s mouth.”8 

Eventually he settled in with “the primitive inhabitants of Prairie Du Chien”, and sought out a church.

Rev. David Lowry, having recently come from Tennessee to serve as superintendent of a Ho-Chunk Indian school in Iowa started the Cumberland Presbyterian church of Prairie Du Chien. “I never saw a place where the gospel was more needed” he said.9 Lowry himself had been a slaveholder but upon leaving Tennessee he freed his slaves and took a firm antislavery position. Mills joined his church.  Andrew Cochrane, a contractor who came from Missouri joined too, and he was a slave owner.  The debate over slavery caused serious conflict. Mills refused to continue in the church as long as a slaveholder was also a member.  The issue was resolved when Cochrane returned to Missouri. Mills had made himself known as a staunch abolitionist, and that would cause him trouble when he moved to Lancaster.

He came to Grant County in either 1840 or May of 1843.12 After teaching a few years he decided to study the law and was admitted to the bar on March 27, 1844.  Sometime after hanging his shingle, trouble began with other southerners. In July of 1847, ex-sheriff Enos S. Baker, feeling he had been demeaned by Mills in arguments over the settlement of an estate, attacked Mills on the street in Lancaster and horsewhipped him.10 Judge Mills was a very gentle man of frail physique. He decided that Baker had gone too far, so he borrowed a double-barreled shotgun and confronted Baker in the street.  “Baker, defend yourself!” Mills shouted in his high pitched voice.  Baker drew his pistol and Mills fired, hitting Bakers hand.  Baker fled cursing in pain. The specifics of this story will never be known since it has been altered and exaggerated in so many accounts that the knot will never be untied.  Some account for Bakers horsewhipping of Mills as being in retaliation for his being a Kentuckian and a “Black Abolitionist”, a shame on the reputation the numerous southerners living in Grant County at the time.11 There is another distinct dueling story which has Mills being challenged to a duel and responding to the challenge by specifying that the duel should be at a mine shaft, with rocks as weapons.  He would be at the top of the shaft and his opponent at the bottom. That story is probably more legend than fact.

The next story concerns the Rev. Edward Mathews, an evangelist with the American Home Baptist Mission.  Mathews was a strong abolitionist and an irritant to the pro-slavery crowd. He was such an irritant that he was often beaten and run out of towns under threat of tar and feathers – or worse.  In 1842 Mills, advocating abolition participated in debates over the slavery issue in Fairplay and Potosi. One evening when Rev. Matthews was giving a lecture at the courthouse in Lancaster, the crowd became ugly.  They cursed and threatened him.  He was struck by a rock.  Mathews later wrote: “Mr. J. T. Mills, who assisted me in the debate at Potosi, kindly invited me to his house. As Mr. Mills and myself walked along, large stones, thrown by the mob rumbled by without striking either of us.  After conversing some little time on the overawing influence of the slave power, I retired to bed, but could not sleep on account of music and singing, which I supposed proceeded from a public-house near by. It seemed, however, so near the front of the house that I got up, and opened my room door to ascertain the cause. To my surprise, Mr. Mills was standing as guard at the door. He said, "Don't be alarmed, no one shall touch you in my house!" The music and singing were from the mob who had gathered round the street door. The serenading of negro songs having ceased, a young man came into the house, who stated that the performers had gone to "the groggery to liquor up, and that they designed to bring down a cannon to fire off." We put up all the windows to prevent the panes of glass from being broken by the report. A cannon belonging to Mr. Banfils was brought, but the men were so intoxicated that they had some difficulty in firing it; at last they did so several times to their satisfaction. One of them then boasted that he had been engaged in the scrape when Lovejoy was killed, and wished to be engaged in just such another scrape." As they were proposing to enter the house and take me, I thought it prudent to retire to the house of a friend at some distance.  Mrs. Mills was as calm and self possessed as her husband. I wished them both good night, and opening the window of a back-room on the ground-floor, escaped into the garden and, unobserved by the mob, crossed the garden and reached a grove of trees.” That was Mills; principled and fearless, kind and generous.

  When Mills became judge of the 5th judicial circuit there were a number who mocked his odd mannerisms.  The Darlington Independent printed what it called a “first rate notice” of the new judge:

“Judge Mills is certainly one of the most eccentric men we have ever seen.  We are told that when a lawyer is pleading he will sometimes stop him and commence pleading the case himself.  His appearance on the bench is eccentric.  We called on day while court was in session, and there sat the Judge, with disheveled hair, coat collar at a vertical, neck tie making for the top of his head having travelled more than half the distance, and ever and anon rolling his peculiar eye in a peculiar manner while striving to get the points of a peculiar case through his peculiar brain.

One morning we happened at the Russell House where the Judge stops, between nine and ten o’clock.  Presently out came the Judge from the dining room …. He cast his eye on the clock which was then marking some minutes after nine, (the hour the court was to open) and exclaimed, ‘why, landlord, what kind of a clock is this you keep? This won’t do.  I’ll have that clock taken for contempt of court’, and back to his room he went for his cap and overcoat.  He soon came down again and passed into the street leaving every door, from his room to the street open.”13

In time, when people got to know him they respected and loved him despite his odd ways.  His friends called him “Joe Mills”, and he was proud to wear the appellation of a common man.  One author wrote: “There was a moral force in Mr. Mills which no coward or evildoer could withstand.  He was incorruptible.”14  Despite being described as having a “peculiar brain”, he was a brilliant man.  He was a member of the State Assembly in the sessions of 1856, 1857, 1862, and 1879 and from 1865 -1877 served as a judge of the fifth judicial circuit court.5  

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Sources

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1. The National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution Volume 98,  page 293 at: http://homepages.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~genea/Ddarlineage7.html

2.  From website: Descendants of W. Ruthven

At: http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~trotter/williamruthven.htm

3.  The Anti-Slavery Movement in Kentucky, Prior to 1850

 By Asa Earl Martin

4. The life of Jonathan Baldwin Turner, by his daughter, Mary Turner Carriel, The first woman elected to the Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois. copyright 1911, At: http://archive.org/stream/cu31924030583300/cu31924030583300_djvu.txt

5.  Proceedings of the State Bar Association of Wisconsin, Volume 3 – 1901 – Joseph Trotter Mills Biography on Google Books.

6.  Milwaukee Journal, Sunday May 21, 1922, page 5.  Article entitled “Truth about the “Elopement” of Jefferson Davis and Sarah Knox Taylor”

7.  Grant County Herald, March 4, 1893 article “A picturesque Character – Judge Joseph T. Mills and Some of the Incidents of His Life”

8.  Negro slavery in Wisconsin, by John Nelson Davidson, 1896. Pages 25-28

9.  Slavery in the Upper Mississippi Valley, 1787-1865: A History of Human Bondage in Illinois, Iowa, Minnesota, and Wisconsin (2011), page 72, by Christopher P. Lehman

10.   History of Grant County, Wisconsin: Including Its Civil, Political (etc) (1900) By Castello N Holford – page 405

11.  The Los Angeles Times, date unknown (est 1897). The Last Duel in Wisconsin, By Clay Dillon, From State Historical Society site at: http://www.wisconsinhistory.org/wlhba/articleView.asp?pg=1&id=2954&hdl=&np=&adv=yes&ln=mills&fn=joseph&q=&y1=&y2=&ci=&co=&mhd=&shd= 

12.  The Semi-Weekly Wisconsin, Milwaukee, July 17, 1867, page 4 - A Visit to Lancaster, Wis.

13.  The Wisconsin State Journal, Madison – quoting the Darlington Independent, February 23, 1870, page 2.

14.  The Biographical Record of the Counties of Rock, Green, Iowa, and LaFayette, Wisconsin (1901), page 631