Door County, Wisconsin - Chapter 24: Peninsula State Park, 1917

Far away from the thousand hills of Wisconsin the waters of Green Bay are gathered. They come purling out of the gushing springs and gather together into little rills and ramble seaward. Into mighty rivers they join, like the swift Menominee, the somber Peshligo and the famous Fox River. From cataract to cataract they leap, until at last they spread themselves on the bosom of the Emerald Sea.

Away up at this head and beginnning of the Bay, the waters spread out sluggishly, with shallow, weed- -grown bottoms, where the wild fowl stop to chatter on their flight to the tropics. Here the banks are low and the waters turgid, as if seeking rest. Perhaps they are weary of the busy hum of the cities that dot the Fox River Valley, and fatigued with turning the innumerable wheels of industry that line the banks. Gently the waves roll seaward, caressing the timbered shores, tempering the chill western winds and graciously giving to the peninsula that lies on its eastern border a climate and seasons of wonderful efficacy for growing luscious fruits.

But the air of the Green Bay Basin is invigorating, laden with life-stirring ozone from its evergreen forests. Soon, too, the sea feels new life pulsating within its deep. From the East to the West and on to the North, it rushes, seeking a nearby opening to join its big brother Michigan.

Off to the east the green-topped hills fall apart, making a big opening for Sturgeon Bay. Into this bay the sea leaps and bounds exultantly, believing that it has found a channel to Lake Michigan. For eight miles the waves roll merrily inward, fed by this delusion, only to be stranded at last on the sands of the narrow isthmus, almost within sight of the Big Sea beyond.

Enraged by this obstacle the sea now hastens out of the narrow confines of Sturgeon Bay and turns northward. It rushes past the palisaded cliffs of Door County and hurls itself furiously against the many crags and islands that oppose it. It throws big columns of spray and foam across Hat Island and Green Island, churns and lashes the long-swept beaches of Chambers Island and leaps in blind fury from boulder to boulder along the rocky strands of the Strawberry Islands.

At this place, a long, rock-ribbed promontory, top crowned with deep green woods, stretches far out across the path of the raging sea. Behind it, as if leaning over its shoulder, rise two noble cliffs in perpendicular grandeur, leaning forward as if better to see what is disturbing the peace of this secluded region. For here is Peninsula Park, the sylvan dreamland of the North.

But the roaring sea cares nothing about sylvan seclusion. It throws itself against the limestone battlements of the promontory, as if to grind it into powder. It thunders against the rock-strewn shore with the sound of a thousand cannon. It screams and bellows and booms in wild fury, throwing its white-flecked spray even to the tops of the trees. At last, its most violent efforts fruitlessly spent, it slips past the firm battlements of Eagle Point, soon to be engulfed by the big gray sea it has been seeking. `

But the waters around Peninsula Park are not always heaving in turbulent fury. On the contrary, that is exceptional. Most of the time, the Bay lies placid, gently caressing the pebbly beach, like a lazy kitten reaching out a playful paw. Smoother than glass and almost as transparent, the sea stretches out to a boundless horizon. Looking down through the glass bottom of your boat, you see big tang-covered boulders strewn about. Among them grow an innumerable multitude of sea bottom shrubbery, waving slightly as some strong-finned denizen of the deep pushes his easy way among them. Here a school of minnows appear - a thousand or two - sporting in carefree opulence. Suddenly there is a wild scramble, as a rock bass shoots like lightning into their midst.

Nine miles it has of such a waterfront, varying with almost every boatlength in changing vistas. Here are craggy promontories with pine tops whistling in the wind. Here are sandy beaches, with a firm gravel bottom reaching out a quarter of a mile. Here are jutting rocks, over which the spray dashes gaily. Here are whitefaced precipices, almost attaining the dignity of mountains, Here are mysterious caves, opening to the breathing sea. Here are landlocked coves and reedy bayous, inviting to solitude and meditation, where the deep romantic woods creep down to the shore, calling to the mariner of a place where it is always afternoon.

water front. Up high on top of those towering cliffs lies the Park proper, 4,000 acres of hills and dales. Chicago has a generous park area, but all of Chicago's many parks could be tucked away here and yet leave room for a dozen good sized farms. But no scissor-trimmed garden hedges here speak of man's puny efforts. Here Nature is the landscape gardener, mixing valleys and timbered slopes, open glades and lowly marshlands about in bounteous munificence. Here are glens, gleaming with coy wild flowers, hillsides glowing with blooming orchards and dark forest recesses, where reigns the spirit of Pan.

Aye! The woods! The forest! Where this side of Mariposa can you find such woods? All the trees of the North have here met and rule unitedly. Here is not only the sturdy oak, the graceful birch, the broad maple, the gorgeous cherry. Here are also the stalwart ash, the sinuous elm, the ancient beech and the brawny ironwood. Here the brilliant sumac endeavors to outdazzle the glowing dogwood in color, hard pressed by the mountain ash and the elderberry. The dainty locust, the mournful willow, the spreading butternut and the stout linden are here and a score of others. Here, too, chief among all, is the royal pine, while around him stand the worshipping balsam, the cheery cedar and the dreamy hemlock.

Where elsewhere can such a goodly company of ancient royalties be found? Where elsewhere can one walk beneath such noble temple arches? Strong and straight as the pillars in the temple of Karnak they stand. But they are not dead and decaying as those famous imitations of man. "They are radiant with life, while their heads, 100 feet up, bend gently and reminiscently to the salutation of the south wind. j

"Since the creation of the world, we have reigned this ground," they seem to say, "and our erown shall overshadow it until time's last crash of thunder is heard. The storms of centuries and millenniums have raged around us, the thunders of primeval times have pealed over our heads and the earth has quaked under our feet. Yet, youthful as ever we stand. In the foundations of the earth we have fixed our feet, the snows of a thousand winters we have proudly thrown off our limbs and the summer floods we have sucked up as nourishment for our roots. The lightfooted deer have browsed on our underbrush in peace, the wolf and the bear have undisturbedly nourished their young in our shade, and your red brother has in days gone by gathered healing herbs between our feet. Now, white man, we would also be a solace and a benediction to thee. Take a lesson in serenity from us!

Banish from thy mind all unclean thoughts and sordid passions, the idle pursuit of riches, the vain dictates of fashion and the frivolous gayety of the weakminded. Fulfill thy destiny as we have ours and thou wilt be a blessing to others, as we have been to thee!"

You, reader, who have sat in the shade of Eagle Cliff, towering behind you "like a great rock in a weary land," with the sea before you like a silver field, your ears entertained by the murmur of the rockborn spring, your eyes delighted with curving shores and emerald islands, while far up in the sublime heights an eagle is majestically poised - you have felt that nowhere is more perfect scenery. Other scenes may excel in this point or that, but nowhere is there a more harmonious combination of land and sea and distant view. Is a Sicilian sunset more fair than that which meets the view of Sunset Cliff? Are the waters of the Bay of Naples as limpid as those that lave these shores? Is the Mediterranean sky tinged with a fairer blue than that which vaults Peninsula Park?

The movement to create a state park in Door County had its beginning in 1907. In that year certain residents of Madison and the City of Baraboo endeavored to secure the adoption of a bill in the Legislature to turn the lands surrounding Devils Lake into a state park. The bill did not make much headway in the Legislature. In order to interest the Legislature in the project the members were invited to visit Devils Lake and personally examine its fitness for a park. On a certain day the entire Legislature visited the proposed park lands and were there entertained with speeches and refreshments. Among those present were Hon. Thos. Reynolds, member of the Legislature from Door County, and Isaac Stephenson, who had just been elected to the national Senate to succeed Hon. John C. Spooner who had resigned the office. These two occupied the same seat on the trip back to Madison.

Being from Door County, Mr. Reynolds was not vastly impressed with the beauty of Devils Lake. Turning to Senator Stephenson, he said: "Up in Door County we have at least three sites which are far more picturesque and desirable for state parks than Devils Lake. These people of Madison want everything. They have the capital, the State University, the Agricultural Experiment Station; now they also want a state park. Why can be not locate such a park in Door County?" The subject was further discussed and finally Mr. Rey- nolds asked Senator Stephenson if he would aid the project financially if a park was established in Door County. This the senator agreed to do.

A day or two afterward Mr. Reynolds presented a bill in the Legislature for an appropriation of $75,000 to purchase lands for a state park in Door County. The members of the Legislature were at first inclined to laugh at the idea of locating a state park in such an out-of-the-way place as Door County. But when Mr. Reynolds on the floor stated that he was authorized to promise a liberal donation from a man of wealth, they became seriously interested. A committee interviewed Senator Stephenson to learn how much he would give, but were referred by him to Mr. Reynolds. Mr. Reynolds being given the liberty of naming the amount said Senator Stephenson would give $25,000.

In due course of time Mr. Reynolds' bill became a law and the park board was authorized to expend $75,000 in the purchase of lands for the park. In the meantime several large delegations of prominent citizens had visited Door County in company with the park board for the purpose of selecting the most desirable sites. The three sites that Mr. Reynolds had in mind were, first, the Clark's Lake region; second, the Kangaroo Lake vicinity; and, third, the tract at present included in the park. While Mr. Reynolds for obvious reasons favored the tract adjacent to Clarks Lake all the visitors including the park board and Mr. John Nolen, a prominent landscape architect and authority on state parks from Boston whose services had been retained for expert advice, were unanimous that the tract of land lying between the villages of Fish Creek and Ephraim and the bay shore was the best suited for a state park of any in the state.

It is needless to emphasize that no park would have been established in Door County without Senator Stephenson's donation to dignify the project. The senator made this donation freely and without any strings tied to it. He was prompted to do so by the fact that Door County in all his political battles had been his best support. The suggestion that his name be fixed to the park was not made by him.

This suggestion came from Mr. Thomas Brittingham, chairman of the park board. He came to the house of Mr. Reynolds and asked him to sign a telegram to Mr. Stephenson promising that the park would be named Stephenson State Park provided the senator would give $50,000. Mr. Reynolds curtly refused to have anything to do

At this time there was developing a bitter feud between the supporters of Senator La Follette and Senator Stephenson. | In a later session of the Legislature the La Follette faction saw in the name of the Door County Park an excellent opportunity of humiliating the aged senator. A bill was introduced changing the name of the park from Stephenson State Park to Peninsula State Park and instructing the state treasurer to return to Mr. Stephenson his donation of $25,000. As the supporters of La Follette were in the majority in the Legislature the bill was passed and the money was returned. Naturally Senator Stephenson was profoundly pained at such an indignity.

In the meantime the work of purchasing the lands in the state park had been pushed vigorously. 'This work was under the personal supervision of Mr. Brittinghan and was woefully bungled. Mr. Brittingham was an able business.man of lofty and disinterested ideals but was unfortunately burdened with a strangely tactless presence and haughty temperament. Almost everyone whom he had dealings with in Door County was disgusted with his insufferable snobbishness. Due to his domineering personality the work of purchasing the park lands became a gloomy affair which will long rankle in the memories of all concerned.

'There were in the park at the time of purchase about thirty-five resident families. With the exception of two or three these families were evicted out of their homes with almost as little ceremony or sympathy as were the unfortunate peasants of Grand Pre. 'They were bullied and browbeaten with the great name of the State of Wisconsin. They were threatened with having their farms confiscated for the small amount at which they were assessed. Their options, accepted at one figure, were set aside and they were compelled to accept another far less. As a consequence Mr. Brittingham and his agents left a trail behind them of weeping and lamentations by the women and dark curses by the men.

All this was quite unnecessary. Mr. Brittingham could have saved himself and the park much odium by sending a capable and courteous real estate man in to handle this job. It would have cost no more and would have created no enmities. While many of these unfortunate people should and would have received a higher compensation many of the bigger properties could have been purchased for less. Several resolute men who were willing to sell at a moderate figure became so incensed at Mr. Brittingham's ruthless manner that they made up their minds that he should pay the maximum price before they were through with him. And he did.

The park embraces almost 3,800 acres of which about 300 acres have not yet been purchased. The total cost of the lands that have been purchased amounts to $96,182.41. There has been expended for improvements $21,229.48 up to September 1, 1917. "These improvements, with the exception of the boundary road between Fish Creek and Ephraim, built at a cost of about $10,000, are negligible.

'The establishment of this park has so far been a poor business investment for Door County and particularly for the Town of Gibraltar. This vast tract which now pays no taxes would with its eight miles of the best water front in the county yield several thousand dollars annually in taxes if open for settlement. It also contains very choice farming and fruit lands which could support a large population. Well tilled fields and pleasant homes might be just as charming details of the equipment of this romantic region as are the present brush heaps and noxious weeds of which there is an abundance. However, in time Nature's all conquering hand will no doubt overcome these blemishes and with the protection of the State Peninsula Park may in the future become an object of pilgrimage to distant nature worshipers.