Over the River and through the Woods to Bertram Lakes we go?

This tidbit is definitely longer than all of the others but please take a little time to read it.  I ran across it while doing research at the Wright County Historical Society and it speaks well to what was in the mind of many settlers to the area in the late 1800’s.  It’s from an unpublished work by Henry Schermer that is located at the WCHS.

“The conductor called out, “Big Lake”, and we picked up our bundles for the last time and left the train.  Pa first found our stage man which did not take as long as Big Lake was only a small station.  There were not many people there and I saw Pa shaking hands with a  tall slim man.  They both talked Dutch, and Pa introduced mother to him and I heard them say his name was Brot.  He caught sight of my brother and me and he told father that he had two nice boys, and I winked at my brother.  After a little talking, Mr. Brot said we had better load up and all got into his wagon, and our baggage was put in another wagon driven by some Yankee who I noticed was smiling to himself, thinking, I suppose, that we were an awfully green lot of Dutchmen, and that Uncle Sam should never allow such people in the United States.  Here we started on our first ride by stage, and I don’t tell a lie when I say that we were somewhat afraid sitting up there in the ugly looking Yankee wagons drawn by a pair of horses that looked as if they hadn’t seen a bite to eat for a week.  As we were getting on, those horses were pawing and jumping around as if they were crazy and I asked Pa if there were Yankee horses and he said that all horses in this country were like that.  Then Pa told me to keep still and I did so.  As we were getting into the wagon, mother climbed in first and then some of the babies and then father climbed in so as to get a good safe place for himself.  Last of all, Pete and I got on, and I’ll say right here that I didn’t look for the highest place on the wagon, but dug myself pretty well to the bottom.  Finally, we started on the jump and mother began to holler not to go so fast.

I stuck my head out to see what the matter was already so soon.  Mr. Brot was not afraid and told mother not to be afraid and told her that everything was all right.  We were driving along a smooth prairie road without a hill in sight and were getting somewhat accustomed to riding in a wagon.  I was just beginning to feel safe myself and was taking in the sights when all at once I saw a large stream of water before us with no bridge across it.  We thought that he was going to drive right through it and mother and I called out to him to stop and he did stop.  He told us not to be afraid as we were going to cross on a ferry boat.  And as we looked across the river we saw the ferry boat coming across from the other side to get us.  But we would not stand for it. and talk as Pa and Mr. Brot would, mother and us children would not go across.   At last it was decided that the teams would go across so that we could see how safe it was.  I noticed that father was angry at our being such cowards and said that he would show us that he was not afraid to cross.  so when the ferry got on our side of the river, the teams drove on and the Yankee driving the baggage wagon smiled as he drove past us.  Father stood in the middle of the boat, looking wild and pretty soon sat down flat and hung onto some ropes for dear life, never saying a word all the way across.  But just as soon as he saw that he was but a few feet from shore, he got up and called out to us in Dutch, “You cowards”. 

After the wagons drove off, the ferry started back to get us.  We wanted Pa to come over and get us but he said no, it was better for Mr. Brot to come after us as he could talk Yankee to the boatman if he should go too fast to suit us.  So, Mr. Brot came over and we had to get on as there was no help for it.  We all walked on the ferry feeling that this would be our last walk on earth.  We all gathered in a little group in the center of the ferry and sat down just as Pa had done.  We admitted that we were cowards, but he would not give in.  I suppose that father thought he was getting so Americanized that he could ring in one of those Yankee bluffs on us.  As we reached the other side of the river, I heard mother off up a little prayer of thanks to Him who is in America as well as in in Dutchland.

There is nothing more precious in the world to you or to me than our praying mothers and I wish that every boy and girl could say that they have a praying mother.  So we loaded up once more and drove to a little village called Monticello and here we stopped for dinner.  Mr. Brot, being acquainted there and able to talk English, ordered dinner for us and I am sure that he told them to do their bets for us for as rule, they do not treat greenhorns any too good.  But here we had the best meal we had since the minister made the farewell speech, and as we had left St. Paul hungry, it looked good to us to get  a table full of good things.  And besides, we had a Hollander sitting with us and if everything did not go all right, he could talk to them in English, and that made me feel easy.  As we were eating I noticed the Yankee baggage wagon driver was sticking his knife in his mouth and I said to my brother, “Look, that fell is trying to stick himself”.  Finally, I got the boys and Pa and Mr. Brot to look at him and Mr. Brot laughed and said that was nothing as they all ate with their knives in this country, as that is the custom.  Yes, and we found many other queer customs to get used to in this country.  After we had our dinners and the crazy horses had theirs, we started once more on our journey.  We had ten miles more to go before we would get to where Pa wanted to look around for land.  We drove over hills, sloughs, stumps and rocks and it was one of those hot April days.  We came to a steep hill and Mr. Brot had to stop and let us all out as we wanted to see what the country was like.  We did not believe in sitting in that wagon with a span of horses in front trying to break our necks as were going down the steep hills.   I don’t believe you will blame us for being afraid as it was something we were not used to.  On this trip there certainly were some awful steep ones.  When got to the top and could look down, it looked very bad and we felt safer walking.  So every time we got to a hill we got out and walked, but I will say that any Swede, Norwegian, German or Dane would have done the same thing.

Well, I may have to take back about the Norwegians, as Norway is nothing but mountains and they probably would not be afraid.  But after all our screaming and talking, we at last got to our journey’s end.”

What a great story … but maybe, just maybe, those hills, sloughs, stumps and rocks included the Bertram Lakes area because the destination of this journey was just north of Maple Lake!