Exploring Lake Superior’s Lost History: The Forgotten Expedition of Melanchthon L. Woolsey

Melanchthon L. Woolsey is a little known author of three letters describing his trip to Lake Superior country in the summer of 1831.

First we have to look at the little known Henry Schoolcraft expedition across the northern shore Upper Peninsula, and then down western Wisconsin, and then across the state down the Fox River to Green Bay and then onto Sault Ste. Marie.

In April of that year, Schoolcraft received a letter from Michigan territorial governor, Lewis Cass who was in Washington, D.C. who had a meeting with Secretary of War John H. Eaton. Reports had reached his office that needed answers from the expedition. Schoolcraft had to meet with tribes, end hostilities and create permanent peace.

He had to investigate trade, the traders who must comply with regulations. Statistical facts must be gathered. Finally, Native Americans must be vaccinated against smallpox by a physician.

The material aspects of the expedition were organized for him. His team consisted of himself as leader; Dr. Douglass Houghton the physician to vaccinate the Indians against smallpox and gather botanical and geological specimens, and Melacthon L. Woosley in charge of provisions, government property and collector of statistics. 

So who was Melacthon Woolsey? He was the member of the eminent east coast Woolsey family who provided officers in the War of 1812 and the Civil War. He was a well-educated printer in Detroit who knew French and was referred to as a “young man” who was religious. He was an excellent and descriptive writer.

Upon his return from this expedition in September he traveled to Detroit and wrote an informative letter (see later) to Schoolcraft. Next Schoolcraft noted that Woolsey went to New York City and suddenly died of “sickness.” On February 08, 1832, Dr. Houghton wrote that Woosley “felt like a brother” and that his death was a great loss and he was impressed that he lived as a Christian. 

“SKETCHES OF LAKE SUPERIOR”

This little known set of letters was first published in 1836 in the Southern Literary Messenger far from the shores of Lake Superior. It is being presented here with an introductory statement by Henry Schoolcraft:

No part of America presented a more ample field of scenic attractions than the lake referred to. In some respects these attractions are peculiar. It is not only the largest body of fresh water on the continent, but pre-eminently so, the largest in the world. Titicaca, the greatest lake of South America, computed to be two hundred and forty miles in circumference — a circle less than Ontario, and failing infinitely short of Erie, Huron or Michigan. 

Superior is about ten miles short of five hundred, in its most direct line of coast, and may be computed at  fifteen hundred miles in circumference. (Mackenzie says seventeen hundred). About one-third of this is caused by its promontories and inlets, which give it a striking irregularity of outline. The direct line of navigation, which would be opened were the rapids at St. Mary’s overcome, would be about twelve hundred and sixty miles in the outward voyage. It possesses several fine harbors and anchorage grounds. It general features may be inferred from the maps, but no exiting map can be relied on for the accuracy of the delineations. Its basin consists of massy formations of primitive rock, with dykes of trap, and horizontal walls of sandstone, giving rise to much variety in its features. Islands, mountains and cliffs, pass the eye of the voyager, with an animating succession, and appear as if they are suspended in the pellucid waters, for which this lake has been noted from the earliest times. This purity may be noticed in connextion with the absence of limestone among its formations, no locality of which has hitherto been discovered. It has, apparently, been the theatre of extensive geological convulations, which have lifted up its horizontal rocks for a hundred and twenty miles in extent. Other portions bear striking evidences of having been submitted to oceanic action, the effect of which has been to break down its sandstone coasts, and deposit the debris in extensive plains, or sand mountains. Peaks, of a black basaltic aspect, cast their angular shadows over some of the more westerly portions of the lake; and the prospect from some of the higher portions of the lake; and the prospect from some of the higher points of those on which  we have stood, is such as to excite the most exalted and transporting conception.

The Porcupine mountains may be distinguished, from all that is known of them, as a volcanic group. They are situated in latitude 46˚ 52’. It would be practicable, in the range of American mountain scenery, to indicate points which have a higher elevation above the sea. Some of the peaks of New England or Virginia lift the observer into the mid heavens. But they are entirely wanting in the effect produced by a transparent mirror of water at their base – for it must be remembered, that no increase in altitude or magnitude can compensate for the absence of water. There is a single precipice, in these mountains, which the Indian represent to be one thousand feet in perpendicular height, having a deep, crater-shaped lake at its base.

The peninsula of Kewena [Keweenaw] extends into lake Superior about forty-five miles from its southern shore – the last ten or fifteen of which exhibit the shape of a lofty comb of the trap formations. Two points of this, which are sometimes called the Manelles, have been descried, in clear weather, sixty-five miles. From the top of this ridge, the spectator looks to the east, and the west, and the north. And beholds one interminable sheet of crystal water. It seems, from the height, that the action of a single tempest, on so vast a mass of water, would be sufficient to prostrate the whole in ruins. Yet there is a breadth of several miles of solid rock, which has resisted the storms of ages. The effects of the action of the water are the most striking on its western coast, which has been fretted into bays and inlets, leaving large, castellated portions of unbroken rick standing  in the water. These isolated masses, in misty weather,  assume a special aspect. The Indians, who find aliment to their superstitions in scenes of awe,   formerly deemed this part of the peninsula sacred, and  passed around it in their canoes. 

The splendid formation of graywacke rocks on Presque Isle river, is worth the whole journey from St. Mary’s to behold. In its spring floods this river is a torrent rushing from a mountain. When drained to a minimum of its summer level, an extensive area of denuded rock is exposed to view, arranged in a stair-like form, and partaking of an air of gloom, from the dark hue of the deeply excavated banks.

Iron river has its course through a similar formation, being east, as the Presque Isle is west, of the Porcupine range. This river has no striking perpendicular falls, but flows down a hackly, rocky bed, in which the water, in its summer phase, stands in pools, or trickles from one triangular tank to another.

The Breast, or Potoash [Sugar Loaf], and the Cradle Top [Hogs Back] mountains, are two prominent elevations in the primitive range west of the Grand Island. No one, we venture to predict, from our own experience, will ever ascend them without labor, or reach their summit without high gratification.

The outer coast of Grand Island presents the north westerly front of that magnificent sandstone formation, called Ishpábica by the Indians, and Pictured Rocks by the whites, which assumes so imposing an outline in the range of coast ruins immediately east of that island. The great Sand Downs (Les Grandes Sables), form a continuation of this most picturesque series of elevations, which the form range exhibits in rock. Minuter sections of the coast, and of the banks of the rivers that intersect it, are of a character to arrest attention, and will furnish, in after years, a tissue of glowing themes for the pen and pencil. Among these, we may notices the falls of the Taquimenon, the Monia, and the St. Louis.

Up to the year 1820, very little was known, even by report, of this interesting and romantic region. The scanty notices of it in the colonial writers were of the most vague and unsatisfactory character. The tale of the massacre of the garrison of Michilimackinac, and of a far off region in which Pontiac exerted his power, had been occasionally heard. But as these events were to be found only in the works of early French writers, few to the trouble to examine them. Still fewer knew aught of it topography and natural resources, or of the interesting communities of men, women and children, to whom it was “a home and a country” long before Columbus reached St. Salvador. Ij the year referred to, the gentleman who at present fills the chair of the War Department [Lewis Cass] conducted an exploratory expedition through the region. Its capacities for military occupation and the character and disposition of its native population and mineral topography, constituted the principal objects of attention. But no one who was a member of that expedition, could remain an indifferent spectator of the striking scenery, and the varied forms of thrilling interest which it threw before the eye. It may be regretted that Mr. Cass himself has given so little of his attention to descriptions of these rife scenes. His graphic notice of the “Pictured Rocks,” and his historical illustrations of ancient Indian institutions, will be remembers by the reader.

We have merely adverted to this era, to notice the apathy which has succeeded. The “far West” and the sunny “South,” have engaged the pens of genius. But much of the area to which we have called attention, remains, as to its description, a terra incognita. We have given most of the time we have ourselves spent in its solitudes, to the consideration of its phenomena, as mere physical facts, and to the history and language of its native inhabitants. But aside from these objects, we think it a fresh field for the future tourist. We anticipate the time, as not far distant, when it will not only attract frequent visits from the literary and scientific, but from all classes who possess the means of enjoying out door health and intellectual pleasure.

We submit the following letters, embracing sketches of some prominent portions of the scenery of this lake, as a sequel to these remarks. They are from the pen of a young man who accompanied the writer of this notice on a tour through that lake in 1831. His mind (p. 168) was much engrossed with the beauty and grandeur of the scenes he daily witnessed, and he wrote these unpretending letters, at snatches of time, by the way. Soon after his return from this tour, he visited one of our Atlantic cities, where he suddenly sickened and died. This circumstance is mentioned, as the motive for retaining the name of the individual, which is associated with recollections of modest worth and ingenious sensibility.

Once this introduction was presented, it was followed by Woolsey’s three letters which follow and add to our insights of the lake region in 1831.

I.

Granite Point, Lake Superior, July 3, 1831

Esteemed Friend, – While looking over the life of Dr. Payson, at your home, I was pleased with a remark of his, in which he says “that a formal letter to a friend, is like ‘Madam, I hope I have the pleasure to see you in good health,’ addressed by a son to his mother, after a year’s absence.” These may not be the exact words, but they convey the sentiment. Had I the disposition to write to you such a letter, the circumstances of my situation would most effectually preclude its gratification.

One week has now elapsed since we were climbing the rugged sides of the Iroquois mountain, and together gazing upon the peaceful lake whose waters reposed in quietness at its base. During that week you may well imagine that scenes have passed before me, as diverse and varied in interest and excitement as the vicissitudes of human life. We have glided over the limp waters of the Superior, when its broad surface lay stretched out before us with all the placidity of a polished mirror, and anon our slender barks have been tossed like a feather upon the rushing billows. We have rambled along the sandy beach, or the graveled shore, or bounded form rock to rock in search of new objects of attraction. We have ascended the sliding sands of the Grande Sable, viewed with admiration and awe the variegated walls of the Pictured Rocks, passed under the Doric arches, and scaled its summit, and last but not least, climbed a weary way up the mountain of the Breast. But I shall not be thanked for filling up my sheet with such general observations.

Very little of interest is to be found upon the coast from Point Iroquois to the Grande [sic] Marais. Nothing but a continuous sandy beach meets the eye, which at length becomes tedious in the extreme. At the Grande Marais, however, the scene changes. Here the lofty mountains of Sable commences, which in themselves are presented. Mr. [George] Johnston and myself, accompanied by two of the Indian lads, ascended them near the beginning of the range. Upon arriving at the summit, the prospect was at once impressive and sublime. Behind us was the Superior, bounded but by the horizon, – before us a gigantic amphitheatre, whose walls on either side rose into the magnitude of mountains. We descended into the area, and it was one in which the Olympian combatants would have delighted to wage their contests for a false or short-lived fame. It was early when we embarked, and being invigorated by the night’s repose, we felt inclined, despite fatigue, to make a survey of all that might prove interesting. Passing on, we found that the winds had disposed of the sand alternately in hills and valleys. Nothing but an arid waste met the eye, except when here and there a hardy plant had reared its head above the yellow surface, or a little islet oasis of green was observed on a hillock’s side, struggling with surrounding desolation. Being informed that a small lake lay beyond the Grande Sable, we immediately resolved upon paying it a visit. The distance we had to traverse was about a mile; and as we wound our way along, I voluntarily drew the comparison between he journey of life and our morning’s excursion. How true is it that the great portion of our existence in this world, is filled up with events that but leave the soul in bitterness, while at times some bright flower, some sunny sport will appear, to which memory can recur with pleasure, and draw new hopes for the future. How miserable the condition of those whose ideas of happiness are bounded by present enjoyment; to them, futurity appears a something gloomy and undefinable, the very thoughts of which are unwelcome. But the Christian can look into a world beyond the grave, and the vista, like the green forest around this miniature Zahara, is pleasant to the sight. And erven here, although his course maybe over a desert, yet every bud of promise, every opening flower, serve but as a source of new excitement, and from them he gathers strength to press his onward march among the many thorns that beset his path. But ere I have concluded moralizing, – upon gaining the top of a sand hill, a scene opened to the view, of the most romantic beauty. Unconsciously I stopped, lest I should too soon rush upon a prospect of such quiet loveliness. We had passed over a desert whose only attraction consisted in the novelty of its character and the majesty of its outline, but the  repetition of its barrenness began to pall upon the sight, and oppress the mind with a sensation of weariness, when instantly the entire scene was changed. Instead of sterile heights, everything bloomed in the vigor and freshness of vegetation. The forest resounded with “the sweet notes of the summer birds,” and as the eye sought for the merry warblers, it caught a glimpse of the blue water as its ripples sparkled in the morning sun. My hesitation was but for a moment, – and bounding down the precipitous sand hills, the isolated lake, that seemed to exult in its wild solitude, with its richly diversified and picturesque enclosures, was spread before me. O, it was a scene that the poet and the painter would love to dwell upon. Cold must be the heart, ungrateful the affections of that being, who, blessed with intelligence, can behold the fairest of Nature’s works, and not adore the God of Nature. My fancy might have been highly wrought, – but it all appeared more like a pleasure dream that fills the mind, when slumber steals over the senses as we are thinking upon absent friends, and the haunts of happy hours.

The lake itself is about nine miles in circumference, and in general form, as near as a comparison can be made, resembles a heart. The shore are deeply indented and irregular, now projecting into the water ins small semi-circular promontories, and again retiring, as if half afraid of the embraces of the limpid element. On the south and west, as far as the eye can reach, the land rises into mountainous elevations; on the north, stand the lofty sand banks, affording a fine contrast with the fertility around, while on the east, it is bounded by lower grounds, that in one instance descended to a beautiful grassy lawn. The water appears to be very deep, and as we sent a shout over the surface we were answered by a startled water fowl, that seldom, very seldom hears the sound of a human voice in its wild retreat. Everything seemed to conspire to render this one of the most enchanting spots in nature, and it was with regret that we turned to regain our canoe.

Such is lake Leelinau [now Grand Sable Lake]; and while the breeze that moved over its waters sent its waves to my feet. I thought of the friend after whom I named it, and from my heart wished that her life might be as calm and joyous as the bright prospect before me. By that name it shall be known; and if this faint description of the beauties it unfolds, will serve to beguile a passing moment, a double object will have been achieved.

As we hurried along on our return, George pointed out to me the fairy tracks that occasionally are seen on these hills. They were, in fact, exact representations of the print of the human foot, and about the size of your Chinese lady’s. But alas! How unpoetical! We were forced to come to the conclusion that our fairy was nothing more than a porcupine. Although the 30th of June, we stopped at a snow bank and after indulging for a moment in a winter’s sport, filled one of our Indian’s hats with specimens for Mr. S[choolcraft]. We travelled over nearly four miles of these sandy mountains. Their summit, near the lake, is covered with pebbles, among which I found several carnelians.

It was nearly six o’clock when we descended to our canoes; and the thought crossed my mind, that probably our friends at St. Mary’s were beginning to shake the poppies from their eyes, and seriously think of taking a peep at the sunny day. At eight we landed to breakfast, and need I tell you that consumption presided at the board – not the arch fiend with the bright though sunken eye, the hectic cough, and the delicate but death boding tint, but a consumption that caused the solid viands before us to disappear with a marvelous quickness.

But to ensure the perusal of any future production, I must tax your patience no farther now. Suffice it to say that the farther I advance the better am I pleased with the tour I have undertaken. Let the issue be what it may, the commencement has introduced to me a friend whom I shall never forget. May the blessing of the Christian’s God attend you.

– MELANCTHON L. WOOLSEY

II.

Lake Superior, July 5, 1831

It was my intention to have had a letter for you in readiness to send my Mr. Aikin, but we met him sooner than we expected, and I was obliged to postpone the fulfillment of my promised until the Indian boys returned.

In my letter to Mrs. S., I conducted her as far as Lake Leelinau. Supposing that an account of our further progress would be as acceptable as anything I can write I will give you an invitation to a seat in our canoe, as we depart for the Pictured Rocks. These you have often heard described, and nothing can be added to my poor pen who what has already been said about them. They were all, and more than an excited imagination had conceived them to be. As we approach them the mind is struck with awe at their lofty battlements and in comparison the most stupendous of the works of art sink into insignificance. Near their commencement a beautiful cascade comes tumbling down the rocks, and finally makes a leap of about thirty feet into the waters below. Passing on from this, we soon come to a most singular arrangement of rocks and arches, and the first thought that strikes the mind is, to ascend and give them an examination. It is the work but of a moment, for eye is unsatisfied until it has drunk in all the wonders before it. Our first resting place was under the main arch, from which we had a bird’s-eye view of the world of woods, and waters, and rocks by which we were surrounded. While here, Mr. Clary with his barge came along, and jumping upon the rocks, he soon made one of our party, when we commenced a minute examination of the celebrated Doric Rock. The principal arch, under which we were, is about twenty feet in height; and while standing under its crumbling walls, our sensations were not lessened by the idea that in an instant it might be said of us, we had been. At our left, and in the centre of one of the large pillars another arch is formed, – upon entering this we still find one more at our right, and which commands a view of the lake. Between the two stands a pillar of stone, near four feet in height, entirely detached at the sides, and composed  of thin plates of sand rock. As we go out form these, for the purpose of ascending the roof, a large urn of nature’s own design and workmanship, appears before us. It might be a fit depository for the ashes of some of these mighty men, who before the children “with a white, white face,” overran their country, strode through these forests, or in their light canoes bounded over these vast waters – but alas, their graves and those of their fathers are mingling with the common dust! Near this urn are the remains of an Indian’s fire, which he had lighted at the close of his fast, when propitiating his Manito – a place well calculated to foster the wilderness of superstition, and which to a mind more enlightened than that of the poor wanderer of the wilderness, would not be deficient in suggests of mystery. Who can wonder that the untaught natives of a region like this , should make to themselves a Deity in the rushing stream  or the beetling cliff? They act from the impulse of nature, and well will it be for those who enjoy every advantage that civilization and Christianity can bestow, if when weighed in the balance, even with the pagan Indian, they are not found wanting. We were soon at the top of the Doric Rock, and from its dizzy height the prospect was such as to preclude all attempt at delineation, at least by language. Your brother expressed his emotion as well as it was in the power of any mortal to do. Clapping his hands together, and putting a peculiar emphasis upon the last syllable, he exclaimed “Oh! Oh!” Nothing more could be said. But while enjoying the grandeur of the scene I wished that M. was at my side, for my pleasure would have been increased tenfold by sharing it with her. The summit of the arch is itself a curiosity. It does not appear to be more than three feet in thickness, and yet it supports and nourishes several lofty pine trees, whose weight alone I should think would crush it to atoms. The root of one of them winds around the outer edge of the rock, as if to support the source of its existence. But we had not long to indulge our admiration, for our table was spread under the shade of one of these immense rocks, and all the sublimity around us could not satisfy the imperious demand of appetite; so after regaling ourselves on some of the daintees furnished by our excellent friends at the Sault, we departed to behold new wonders, and utter repeated exclamations of Oh! Oh! Turning a point of the rocks, (p. 170) we came in view of those natural excavations that have excited so much astonishment. It was our intention to pass through one of them, but the entrance was blocked up by the falling of an arch, the ruins of which were scattered around. We were obliged to content ourselves with an outside view; but this surpassed everything of the kind I had before seen. We were in a bay formed by a  semi-circle in the rocks. Above us the cliff, at th height upwards of a hundred feet, projected far beyond our canoes, and formed a canopy of the most terrific description.  We could not behold it without a shudder of awe. Upon leaving it we discharged our gun, and the reverberations were almost deafening. The sound rolled through these vast ramparts, and seemed to shake them to their foundations. It was like the groaning of an imprisoned spirit in its struggle to be free. At every stage of our progress we had new cause for amazement; and when we left them it was with the impression that we “ne’er should look upon their like again.” Our encampment was at Grand Island. The next day we reached the Riviere des Moines [Mort], – here we pitched our tents, and immediately commenced a search for some of the precious minerals. The locality proved so interesting that it was determined we should devote a day or two to its examination. For the first time we were compelled to resort to our mosquito bars, and it  afforded me infinite amusement upon waking in the morning, to see about fifty of these insects puzzling their brains to discover the meaning of certain initials that seemed to attract their attention. This day we removed our encampment four miles. In so doing we passed a rocky mountain, that filled us instantly with a desire to ascend to its summit. This was resolved on, and at five in the afternoon we procured an Indian guide, and were soon clinging to the roots and branches that overhung its precipitous sides, as we scrambled up the ascent.  We were amply repaid for our fatigue, by the prospect from its peak. Immediately before us was a beautiful bay, studded with numerous islands, some of which were crowned with verdure, while others were immense masses of rock. The bay was formed by the projections of Granite Point and Presque Isle, both of which terminated in circular mountainous elevations that were connected to the mainland, but by very narrow isthmuses. At the distance of fifty miles were seen Grand Island and the Pictured Rocks. To the northwest are seen seven large bays, and Point Kewena [Keweenaw]. From which we are 65 miles distant. In the background, mountain rises on mountain, as far  as the eye can reach. Here and there, to add variety to the scene, a lofty peak of massy, naked granite, rears its head high above its less aspiring neighbors; and to soften the asperity of the view, there are two beautiful open spots of level green, that might be taken for fairy playground – so secluded, and so environed, that even the spirits of the air in them could find a resting place. And think you not when my eyes were gazing at the splendor of this scene, glowing as it was in the last rays of a glorious sunset, that my mind wandered to the Being who is the author of these creations?

When we have occasionally met the traders, as they were returning from their year’s residence among the Indians, I have asked myself what mysterious excitement there could be in the spirit of gain, that will cause men to separate themselves from society, and voluntarily renounce those privileges incident to an intercourse with the world? Bat as I pass along my wonder ceases. There is so much an union of beauty and grandeur in all the works of nature throughout this region, that it is impossible to be acquainted with them, and not wish to pass a life in their admiration. Following the impulse of my present feelings, I could joyfully make my home among these hills and valleys, and I should want no other. ‘Tis true, the busy hum of men would not reach such a wild retreat, neither would their faithlessness and cold deceit.

And now, let me tell you how I have written this letter. We are waiting , at the Kewena Bay, for the arrival of some Indians to transport part of our luggage to the Ontonagon [River]. Mr. S[choolcraft], and Mr. Houghton, with Lt. Clary, are by this time over the traverse [western end of the modern Portage Canal]. It was uncertain how soon we might be able to embark, but I resolved to devote what time I had to you. Accordingly, at 5 o’clock this morning, I turned a chest upside down for a desk, planted myself against the tent-pole, and  with the stump of a pen commenced operations. But alas! The sand flies and musquitoes made such a desperate onset that I was obliged to haul down my colors, and ingloriously fly for my life. I then waited until after breakfast. And commenced again with no better success. I then resorted to the open air; and placing my paper on a small bank, and standing on the stones below, with the sun at 90, pouring its rays upon my head, while with one hand and sometimes two I battled insects of divers descriptions, at last have made black marks, over the greater part of this sheet. Should you in deciphering these hieroglyphics, come to any place where the subject was suddenly dropped and another commenced, without any apology, attribute it to a huge horse-fly, which lighting on my nasal protuberance,  caused me to drop my pen, and with it my ideas. But here come a dozen of them, so good bye till you hear from me again.”

– L. Woolsey

III.

La Pointe, Lake Superior, July 17, 1831.

Instead of a sand bank for a writing table, I am now seated by the side of a good table in your brother’s house, and surrounded by comforts and conveniences that would be no discredit to a place less out of the world than La Pointe. We have luxuries that even the inhabitants of St. Mary’s might envy. Our table groans beneath its load of whitefish and trout, veal and pigeons, rice-puddings and strawberries, all of which are served up à la mode, in Joseph’s best style, assisted by the culinary skill of Plufe, the cook. We at present adopt the maxim, “Livd while you may,” for we well know that soon we will be out reach of everything of this sort, and be glad to get our dish of corn soup. This a pleasant island, and presents quite a village-like appearance. There are several large dwellings houses, besides the trading establishment, and cultivated fields, with cattle strolling about, that make up a scene quite different from anything I expected to see before arriving at Green Bay.

Since my first and last letter to you, we have passed through a variety of interesting incidents. As I closed my letter  our Indians arrived, and in short time we were on our way across the Kewena traverse. But now a fresh breeze had supplanted the calm atmosphere of the morning, and before we were half-way over the Bay, we began to anticipate a second edition of the troubles and danger experienced by Mr. S[choolcraft] in 1820. But we fortunately escaped, with no inconvenience but a slight wetting, and at 12 at night came up to the encampment of our friends, – when not wishing to disturb them, we spread our blankets upon the gravel, with the heavens for our canopy, and sought a few hours repose, previous to commencing an examination of Kewena Point. In this we promised ourselves an abundance of interest, and we suffered no disappointment. Such a banging the rock have not experienced for many a day, and we robbed them of no inconsiderable quantity of their precious contents. The “King of the metals” will be the necessity of holding another convention (Alludes te a jeu d’ esprit poem.) and if some of the delegates do appear with battered visages, and broken bones, then there is no virtue in our well-trained hammers. Now you know, as we go skipping  down the vale of life, that it is not every circumstance that assumes a serious cast, but that we have a mixture, or a kind of dish which in Scotland, and by Dr. Johnson, would be called hodge-podge. So with us – after wearying ourselves in discovering copper mines, and hunting for their dark and stony enclosures the precious gems which here abound, we would join with no little zest in the pleasure of the chase. One or two opportunities of doing this occurred while going round this Point. This was in the pursuit of quacks; and impelled by the purist patriotism, we were determined upon the extirpation of all that might fall in our way. What, ask you, is it possible, that the proscribed prescribers of “roots and herbs,” and steam restoratives, have found their way to the lone regions of the north? Why no, not exactly this kind of quacks, but a species more honest, who tell us beforehand what they are, and which, of themselves, when properly prepared by a suitable apothecary, form an excellent remedy for a well-known disease, and which those in particular are apt to contract who labor for hours together among rocks and over mountains. But to tell a plain story – while in our canoes we surprised several large broods of ducks, which happened to be in that state when their unfledged wings forbade them to fly, but when they were sufficiently large to furnish excellent game for the table. Consequently it was a trial of skill between our canoe-men and the poor quackings, to see who could paddle the fastest; but like the boys and the frogs, while it was sport to the former, it was death to the latter. Although at the first they literally walked over the water, yet their strength was soon exhausted; and what with the shouts of the men, which of themselves were sufficient to scare a duck out of his senses, and their own fatigue, they fell an easy prey to their enemies. But to secure the victims after they were run down, afforded us the most amusement. The men seemed to have given up their whole souls to the chase, and as the duck would dive to escape being taken, they would endeavor to spear them with their poles and paddles, and these proving ineffectual, plunge in themselves regardless of the consequences. Their zeal was rewarded by the capture of twelve or fifteen of the unfortunate birds. The only fear I experienced during this enlivening scene, was that the Doctor would exhaust his stock of risibility, and in future we should be deprived of the hearty ha, ha, that makes one join in sympathy with him, before the story comes. He surrendered himself entirely to the power of Momus; but we have had abundant demonstration since, that is still a subject of the laughing deity. But the afterpiece was the most interesting to us individually; what that was you most guess. But luckily the clouds now “began to gather blackness,” and before we had proceeded many mines, we were favored with a couple of smart showers, and finally obliged by the rain to go on shore – luckily, because this spot proved to be the richest in minerals and metals, that we had yet visited. Your brother discovered two rich veins of copper ore, and we found agates and other gems in quantities. While we were thumping about us, the Doctor got into the canoe for the purpose of seeking an encamping place. This was found at the bottom of a very pretty bay, but which nevertheless we dignified with the name of Musquito Cove. Here we were wind-bound, and I spent a half hour very pleasantly on the rocks, witnessing the foaming and dashing of the waves, that seemed enraged at the resistance which they met, while the rocks themselves groaned at the recounter as if fearful of being shaken from their solid foundations. Here was a place for melancholy, and a mind like yours would have held a revelry with the wilderness of the scene. My curiosity to witness the onset of the waters, prompted me to venture too near them, as I found by a salute, not very friendly, that left me in rather a moist condition; but although experience is the best school, yet forgetting myself, I was again reminded that being but a spectator, it would be well to retire from the influence of the battle shock.

                      *        *        *        *        *        *        *

This ceremony over, we turned our faces homewards, but stopped for a moment on the way to take a peep at the Superior. This was so pleasing that I felt no disposition to quit it, and continued my way over the rocks, until weariness alone induced met to return. My path was through a pleasant wood, and as I was loitering along, I was startled by the report of a gun, repeated three or four times in quick succession; and upon making up to the place from whence the sound proceeded, found that two of the men had been sent out to search for the supposed lost one. The wind had abated, and we left our camp as the sun began to dip below the horizon. The rest of my story I hope to have the pleasure of communicating to you by word of mouth.

You will not probably hear from us again until our arrival at the Sault.

In the meantime remember to William, and the young gentlemen of your household.

– M.L.W.

The following is the last item that he wrote and provides a view of the man:

M.L. Woolsey to Henry R. Schoolcraft, Detroit, September 27, 1831.

DEAR SIR – I have just seen Mr. Chapman, who informs me that he will probably leave here for the Sault, in the course of this night. I improve the opportunity to let you know of my safe arrival this morning after an unpleasant passage of nearly four days. The party which expected to accompany had left Mackinac the day we started from St. Mary’s. During my detention I employed my time very pleasantly in solitary rambles about the island [Mackinac]. Visiting those certain famous advocate for infant schools, etc. etc. I could not but smile at the idea that the weight of a single gentleman should send Sanillac’s arch in crumbling  ruins to the water’s edge. It was akin of Col. McKenney’s lugging the copper rock over the rapids of the Ontonagon [River]. Mr. [William] Ferry was absent until the day I left, in the afternoon of which I called upon him, and was much gratified by an introduction to the mission family, and a visit to the schools. I regretted the abrupt termination of our acquaintance.

My passage was rather solitary as the cabin was occupied but by one individual besides myself, and her company I could very well have dispensed with – she was not a vestal. And as to books to beguile the few tracts on materialism, a book of stories by Robert Dale Owen, the drift of which was to ridicule the truths of Christianity – a number of pamphlets and handbills, the effluvia of the infidel press in New York – together with the beauties of Byron, a historical work from the literary grist-mill at Hartford, and Goldsmith’s Greece formed the tout of our reading apparatus. Need I inform you that the vessel is owned by Smith of Buffalo?

Upon my arrival I waited upon the Governor [George B. Porter 1831-1834], and delivered your package. He is altogether a pleasant sort of a man, quite affable, and judging from his appearance, I presume his stay will be tolerated by the unruly politicians of Michigan, at least until our territorial shackles be removed. Then, of course, like a child escaped from its parent’s control, we will in the first moments of our freedom, nullify the acts of our guardian, however wise or well-meant. Mr. Secretary [of the Territory] is quite a consequential personage. The people say but little at present of his appointment, but it is evident the feeling is deep, and to be allayed but by his removal. Your letter and watch have likewise been delivered to Mr. Trowbridge.

I dropped in at the Atheneum for a few moments to-day. For an infant it is very promising, and can hardly fail to be of benefit to those who are not si much absorbed in business, as to forget the acquisition of general intelligence. It occupies two rooms, the same formerly tenanted by Mr. Whitney. One contains newspapers, reviews, pamphlets, etc, the other the city library, and also a fashionable lounge.

I have concluded to remain in Detroit until the arrival of Dr. Houghton, or at any rate of the minerals that he has in charge. Permit me now, Sir, in closing this note, again to express my gratitude for the opportunity you have afforded me of visiting an interesting portion of our country, for the uniform kindness that I have experienced at your hands, and for your friendly wishes that prosperity may crown my exertions in life. I am sincere in my prayers that every happiness may attend you and yours.

Please give my respects to Mrs. Schoolcraft, the young ladies, and Dr. Houghton. Mr. Whitney desires to be remembered to yourself and family.

Respectfully yours,

M.L. Woolsey

Schoolcraft answered the letter on October 11, 1831 but it has not been found among Schoolcraft’s papers.