Steel Rails - Part 8

Originally published in the Hysham Echo on Dec. 30, 1926

(By Dan R. Conway)

Cont. from last week

Geographically, Montana is old - very old. Historically, the Treasure state is young - very young. The settlement of Montana has gone forward in leaps and bounds. In the days immediately following the era of the argonaut, along the projecting tongue of civilization - the trails, new paths, and finally those gleaming “steel rails,” the American frontiersmen, driven by unrest, moved a score or more of times in a single generation. They came - the pioneers - from here, from there, from every corner of the earth, rolling like long waves, following the lines of least resistance. This was the irresistible advance of civilization which brought with it the plow, the mowing machine, the harrow, the binder and all those other things which worked together to transform the prairies and valleys which had been wrested from the native redman, into gardens, fields and meadows.
As has been true of the history of the nation, Montana’s advance from the primitive to developed industry and agriculture, has been coordinate with the development of transportation facilities. Thousands of the nobel pioneers came West over the old prairie schooner trails in the sixties; but, tens and hundreds of thousands came when the “steel rails” had so magically shortened the seemingly endless miles.

The Changing Scene

Out along the routes of these arteries of the nation’s life, and even ahead of the “steel rails, new towns sprang up on the plains and in the valleys; towns with shining painted houses, churches and schools - things hitherto unheard of in this country. The frontier posts faded away. With all of this, the doctors, lawyers, merchants, and all the accessories and necessaries, swept into the settlements. The color of the frontier became less picturesque. Yet, it was well, for a homeless race was being provided with a peaceful and promising habitation, and the interests of American democracy were being advanced.

All of this followed closely in the wake of perfected transportation methods. The coming of the “steel rails” transformed the wilderness to a garden spot. The “steel rails” made history. The story of any development generally discloses some outstanding figure - some man who set out to do the impossible and by accomplishing his purpose, opened the eyes of an entire world. In railroad annals, this man was James J. “Jim” Hill. In the seventies and eighties when this indomitable spirit was planning and building the Great Northern, his many ideas and plans were scoffed at by the nation’s most eminent engineers. Yet “Jim” Hill did the very “impossible things”, things his heart was set upon. And, as a result, today, Northern Montana is a developed empire, rich in the fruits of agricultural and industrial enterprise.

Welcoming the “Steel Rails”

The scene is the southern bank of the great Missouri river, and the time is the afternoon of October 12, 1887. Here, on the town’s waterfront there were assembled the few hundred inhabitants of the community to greet the “steel rails.” They greeted the first line with loud acclaim. The local editor, in his issue of that day had voiced the community’s rejoicing over “Jim” Hill’s solution to their problem of transportation. Surely it was a welcome sight to the man who handled the throttle of the first locomotive to enter Great Falls, The Great Northern had bridged the gap from Minot to the Falls of the Missouri, on its long trail to Helena and Butte.

James J. Hill

Astor and his contemporaries were the first giants of commerce who visioned and appreciated the unlimited possibilities that lay in the development of the great Northwest. It was Astor and those who patterned his enterprise, who opened a great highway of travel to Montana through the use of the steamboats and the Missouri river. The prime motive for this early-day development was the fur trade. And, it was at the time when this mammoth Northwestern traffic in furs was on the threshold of its greatest accomplishments that James J. Hill was born at the village of Rockford, September 16, 1838.

Space does not permit the complete life story of this “empire builder”; yet it is a career with which every Montana youth should be familiar, for it is filled with inspiration for any lad who wishes to succeed.

At the age of five years, the boy - James Hill - trudged through deep snow and underbrush a distance of two and one-half miles to school, and as soon as he had made his letters, he developed an avaricious habit of reading. He read everything in print that came to hands.

On the rough farm of his father, he was afforded opportunity of receiving all kinds of exercise, and the variety of scenery about him kept his imagination busy. Hence, he came to maturity strong of body and keen of mind, with a well-founded determination to do something really worth while.

While at the Rockford Academy, young Hill met some lads from the Red River country, who stirred him by their stories of the wonderful possibilities of that region. It was at this school that Hill continued to be trained in the studies which make character. Especially was the boy appealed to by the life of Napoleon Bonaparte; and, judging from the chronicles of Hill’s biographers, it is not too much to say that he was driven to his empire building by the influence of the great emperor’s life. With such an education, with which was blended an ideal peaceful farm home life, the career of James J. Hill was largely determined before he left the parental roof.

Leaves Home at Fourteen

At the age of 14 years, Hill left home, securing employment with Robert Passmore, a Scotchman. After four years of this service had passed, much the same as others of whom we read with delight, he severed completely the home ties, left all of his old friends and headed for the “unknown.”

The first journey took the boy to eastern cities and then back to the then small center, called Chicago. Here he remained but a short time, for the call of the Northwest which his boyhood Academy friends had described, was hard upon him. Fired with a purpose and ambition, a stalwart young man, keen of mind, and prepared for any task that his career might set before him, he arrived at the village of St. Paul, Minnesota, in 1856.

St. Paul in 1856

In 1856 St. Paul was a small Mississippi river village, peopled by an itinerant and motley population. During the steamboat season, it was a lively little center, for through it passed most of the supplies for the Red River country, and to it came all who desired to search out the country whether for gain or for pleasure. On the other hand, during the winter months it was a dull and desolate place, much similar to our inland Alaska town of modern times.

However, St. Paul, in 1856, spoke “promise” in loud tones to young Hill, for he saw it situated on the edge of a wilderness possessing the rawness of things waiting to be done. At the same time, this village gave to the young man a living without his having to ask anyone for help.

The chief industry of St. Paul in those days, was transportation. Consequently the boy was soon employed in a warehouse checking incoming freight. In five years, for on account of an injured eye, he was not able to join his companions on the battlefield, he was able to save from his earnings, sufficient capital with which to enter business for himself. His business was the combined fuel and transportation trade, conducted laboriously by means of the famous Red River carts pulled by oxen or ponies.

The Red River Carts

Creaking over the great tall grass prairie, from Pembina in the Red River valley, these carts took to St. Paul great piles of fur that had been secured by the Hudson’s Bay trappers, and on the return trip took the goods of civilization - goods which had been brought from the East by the river steamers which also furnished the settlements with coal, and which were themselves supplied by Hill with wood for their boilers. There was good profit to be made in both the overland and the river trade.
However, the promise of the future lured the young Hill through all these years. He had become as one who lived in tomorrow while he performed the tasks of today. As soon as the opportunity arrived, he explored the Red River valley - that land of his dreams - traveling by dog train in the winter of 1870 from St. Cloud, at that time, the terminus of the St. Paul & Pacific railroad.

Meets Donald Smith

At. St. Cloud, Hill met a young man who seemed as ambitious as himself, his name was Donald Smith (afterward known as Lord Stratchona). Smith saw in Hill a fellow spirit for a great adventure in finance that he proposed to take. And, from the day when James Hill met Donald Smith, until the day of the “empire builder’s” death, James J. Hill was a leading citizen of the Great Northwest.

The St. Paul & Pacific railroad had, through a reorganization, become the St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba. The bonds of the company were held by investors in Holland. When it was clear that the road was not paying dividends, Smith and Hill recognized their opportunity to buy the property cheaply. Accordingly, an agent was sent to Holland to negotiate with the bondholders and the business world was startled by the announcement of the organization of the Great Northern railroad company with Hill as president and Smith and his Canadian associates strongly backing the project. And, it was this road which constituted the highway over which the Napoleon of the northwest rode to conquest.

From the moment of its organization, there was scarcely a doubt of the ultimate success of the Great Northern railway, for its president was a man of determination and vision, not a mere business man seeking fortune alone. He saw beyond the struggle of the Dakota farmers, the empire of wheat and corn; he saw the eventual evolution of the Montana plains from a cattle range to the fields of diversified agriculture. He forced everyone to believe in transportation as the vital stimulus to sound development; he made his position notable among all railroad officials because of the hope, the outlook and the foresight which characterized his every movement. When Japes J. Hill saw agricultural efforts failing in sections along the route of his road, he instituted within his business scientific, research and experimental departments through which he demonstrated the importance of intensive farming.

Laying Rails at 3 1/2 Miles a Day

How the Great Northern, then known as the St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba Railroad company, was built through Montana at the rate of three and one-fourth miles a day, was related in “The Life of James J. Hill,” by Joseph Gilpin Pyle.
In one particular article entitled “James J. Hill’s Rules of Business Success,” the biographer draws a strong contrast between the methods employed in the extension of the Great Northern and its rival, the Northern Pacific. The Northern Pacific, although it had behind it men of international reputation, and although it had received enormous grants and subsidies of public lands, was almost continually in financial difficulties, whereas the Great Northern was fortified by a big treasure chest and never failed to make a profit although it had received practically no aid from the government.

Northern Pacific First To Come

The Northern Pacific was the first transcontinental line to enter and cross Montana, but the Great Northern was not many years in following, and when it came it came with a rush.

“Without a moments’ rest,” writes Mr. Pyle, “went on the preparations for the westward march. No matter how pressing matters were at home for Mr. Hill, he was always gathering and storing in that wonderful memory of his every fact which could be of service in the projected extension of his system to the Pacific. Still hardly more than warm in his seat of power, this letter written November 24, 1880, to Paris Gibson, years afterward to become United States senator from Montana, is eloquent of Mr. Hill’s plans and methods:
“‘It will give me great pleasure to see you during the coming winter and to hear from you a description of northern and western Montana. If it is not too much trouble you can get me a description of the country lying at the foot of the mountains between the Missouri river and latitude 49, for a distance of one to three hundred miles and as far east as you can get information; also the number of cattle now in the Sun River, Teton and Marias River valleys, and any other information that you think will aid me.’” Print this post