[banjo & guitar play;
steam whistle blows] [steam whistle blows] (woman) Steamboat
around the bend, It's the steamboat
on the Red. Whistle on ahead, Got a steamboat on the Red,
Red River. Steamboat on the Red,
Red River, Steamboat
on the Red,
Red River. (woman) Production funding
is provided by: the Minnesota Arts
and Cultural Heritage Fund, with money from the vote
of the people of Minnesota on Nov. 4, 2008; the North Dakota Humanities
Council, a nonprofit, independent
state partner of the National Endowment
for the Humanities; The Winnipeg Foundation; and the members
of Prairie Public. [fiddle, bass, & guitar play] (male narrator)
Looking at the Red River, as it
twists and turns its way north across the prairie to Lake
Winnipeg, it's hard to imagine that from 1859 to 1909 it carried
millions of tons of goods and thousands of passengers on massive paddle-wheel
steamboats. Just the idea of these big 120- 130-foot-long steamboats, big building-sized vessels
plying the little tiny stream that we have here--it just
amazes people! It's an interesting river; it's
like a lot of prairie rivers, it's meandering and shallow and
very, very turbid. The Red River water is often just sort of slightly
liquefied mud. (narrator)
So what would drive hardheaded
19th-century businessmen to try to make
this winding, twisty, shallow river
into a superhighway? [cash register rings] Money! Until 1858, the Hudson's Bay
Company received and sent all of their
fur trade goods and their furs, back and forth across
the North Atlantic from England by sailing vessels. It was a long, expensive,
and dangerous road. Storms were a constant threat
in the North Atlantic, icebergs in Hudson Bay;
Hudson Bay is only free of ice for a few months
out of the year-- a small window of opportunity
to their materials in and out. But the Hudson's Bay Company had
been watching these Metis people
up at the forks for decades had been trading
with St. Paul traders, and they said
well, we can try that. (narrator)
With an eye on the bottom line,
Hudson's Bay Company governor, Sir George Simpson brought a
test shipment from England using the Minnesota route. The shipment came into New York and traveled by railroad
and steamboat to St. Paul, where it was loaded
onto Red River oxcarts. The oxcarts then made the trek across open prairie
to Fort Garry. Instead of a year,
it took only 6 months and was a fraction of the cost. But although the Minnesota route
was faster and easier, it was no walk in the park. To get there you went through
miles by miles by miles of tall prairie grass, and it was definitely
a frontier. It had not been drained; much of
it was much muddier and boggier than it is now. The main barrier was getting
through the mudholes. (narrator)
But even with the primitive
condition of the oxcart trails, trade between St. Paul and Hudson's Bay Company
began to flourish. But both were always
on the lookout for a way to decrease their costs
and increase their profits. If you are going
to move freight, or for that matter, if you're
going to move people, the cheapest, fastest way of doing it is by water. (Don Lilleboe) In 1858, the St.
Paul merchants commissioned a fellow to make a
survey of the Red River Valley
and the river specifically to evaluate whether it was
feasible to place steam navigation
on the river. There were no railroads close
to the Red River at that time, and they just saw it as a means
of conveying a lot more goods up to what is now Manitoba, then could be accomplished
via the oxcart. It was an opportunity that they
felt they wanted to investigate. And the fellow who did
the survey came back and said yes,
I think you can run steamboats for 3 or 4 months a year,
and it can be a feasible thing. (Dr. William Lass) So after
Blakeley's reconnaissance, then you have the nice
little problem of how do you get a steamboat
to the Red River? (narrator)
The St. Paul Chamber of Commerce offered a prize of $1000
to the first person to launch an operating steamboat
on the Red. That's about $26,000 today. No takers--finally, one
enterprising businessman proposed a bold plan
to claim the prize. A guy named Anson Northrup had a little boat
called the "North Star" on the upper Mississippi River north of what's now Brainerd,
and during that winter, he disassembled his boat
at Crow Wing, loaded it onto a sledge and he
used about 40 brace of oxen. (narrator)
Unfortunately for Northrup, the winter of 1859
was extremely harsh. [acoustic guitar plays softly] As the party reached
the halfway point, conditions got even worse. Bitter temperatures,
blizzards, and deep snowdrifts
took their toll. One by one,
the animals pulling the disassembled steamboat
across the open prairie, began to die of overwork
and starvation, forcing him to leave behind parts of
the boat all along the route. At last, on April 1st,
exhausted and near starvation, with only 7 oxen left,
Northrup and his team reached the Red River, pulling
only the boiler behind him. After recuperating
their strength, Northrup put his crew to work
building a hull, while the oxteams went back to retrieve
the rest of the engine. When word reached St. Paul,
anticipation mounted. (man)
The sound of the blacksmith's
hammer and the caulking iron is heard where one year ago the buffalo
were seen in large numbers. And another chain in the link of interoceanic navigation will
soon be welded. The enterprise is now
in the hands of men who know no such words as fail,
and it will inaugurate a new era in the commercial
history of this nation, and the prosperity
of this state. And the enterprising
citizens of Minnesota will be the first
to reap the benefits! (narrator)
At 10:45 a.m. on May 16, 1859,
the steamboat "Anson Northrup," christened with the name
of its owner, slid into the muddy waters
of the Red River 10 miles north
of present day Moorhead. [fife & drum play
"Yankee Doodle Dandy"] He slid it into the river and
took it up to Winnipeg essentially to Fort Garry,
turned around, came back to Fort Abercrombie and tried for a while to almost
extort a lot of money from people to ship stuff
on the boat. They just said nuts, we can
continue using the Red River carts. So he abandoned
the boat basically, went down to St. Paul,
got his cash reward. Simpson came by
at that point, on his way from Fort Garry
through St. Paul, spotted it and saw dollar signs
hanging above it. (narrator)
Because U.S. law prohibited
foreign ownership of riverboats, Simpson used one of Hudson's Bay
Company's St. Paul agents to buy the "Anson Northrup." Now the company had a monopoly
on the import of trade goods, as well as export of furs. But even though local merchants
grumbled about high prices, crowds cheered the first
steamboat to reach Winnipeg. When the Anson Northrup
came in 1859, it really
revolutionized the economy. It brought them goods that they
hadn't been used to. In fact, the newspapers
of the year just proclaimed it as finally we have
a link to the outside world. (narrator)
But not all residents
were enthusiastic about the advent
of the steamboat trade. The reaction of Indians
traditionally, according to international law,
if you were foreigners and you were traversing
their land, you gave gifts, you made arrangements, there
was a protocol for allowing it. Certainly the Chippewa would not have objected to a boat or two, but the fact that
the Americans just assumed they had the right to do it,
regardless of the Indians, did not sit well with them. The Chippewa decided that they
were going to enforce their own protocol on these
people who had no manners. There were incidents with
the steamboats themselves, where the Chippewa boarded
a steamboat and said okay, pay us
or you can't go any further. So the steamboat captain I think
paid them $300 or something and they allowed him to proceed. But Americans again, tended
to see this kind of thing not as defending one's own land,
but as theft, as pirates, as depredations in the language
of the 19th century. So it wasn't a good deal. (narrator)
In 1863, former fur trader
and St. Paul businessman Norman Kittson,
helped negotiate a treaty that bought the Red River Valley
from the Chippewa, opening the way for unimpeded
use of the river by steamboats. Not too surprisingly, Kittson became Hudson's Bay Company's
new American partner. What the river provided you, the river promised you was the cheapest transportation
you could find. This is not to say that it was
perfect. The joys of steamboating
on the Red River, they were very small steamboats,
they frequently sunk, they frequently got stuck,
and when you had floods, you didn't know
where the river was. You just paddled
across the prairie. It was a very adventuresome
thing, but steamboating was not really
very feasible on the river, but compared to dragging carts
through the mud, it looked pretty good. The boats themselves of course,
were designed specifically for travel in shallow waters. They were all designed
for a very shallow draft. Most of those steamboats
could operate in only 3 or 4 feet of water, and as for their size, well,
yes, it does pose problems, and I know they would often have
sort of jacking equipment that they would use
if they tried to do a corner and they maybe ran aground and
they would have these poles that they would use to kind of
push themselves up and over. So it was just an ongoing
operational hazard. There was a survey done
of the Red River in the 1870s, and they found it at the
railroad bridge in Moorhead, the Northern Pacific
railroad bridge, the river was 140-feet wide,
that's about what it is today. One of the steamboats,
the "International," the biggest steamboat
to run regularly around this part of the Red,
was 137 feet long. So if you want to turn this
thing around at Moorhead, you've only got a foot or two on
either end of the boat to do it. In the 1860's the steamboat was driven at one point upstream
to Fort Abercrombie and they found that
the river was so narrow there, that they couldn't
turn it around. They had to put it
into reverse and back it up all the way to where the
Wild Rice River comes in before they found a spot wide enough
in the river to turn it about. I understand there were places
where the riverbank had to be dug out in order
to let the "International" negotiate
some of these sharp bends; it's a real serious problem. (narrator)
Despite the difficulties
navigating the Red, by 1870 more boats were built,
and the open prairie began to see small settlements
spring up with wharves, depots, customs houses and boatyards. Steamboats brought workers,
then settlers, then merchants. And the once-empty river banks
began to bustle in places like Emerson,
Grand Forks, and Moorhead. Emerson was the first city
when you cross the border where goods have to clear customs
coming into the country. There was
at least 8 to 10 steamboats
of different companies that were transporting goods
back and forth. We became a rather
Dodge City, you might say. It definitely brought
a lot of people in. It was sort of the roaring
1800's, you might say. Things were changing quickly,
and Emerson was right in there (narrator)
It did not escape the notice of
Winnipeg and St. Paul merchants that Kittson and the Hudson's
Bay Company had a stranglehold
on the steamboat trade. In 1870, Kittson's former
protege, James J. Hill, launched
a competing steamboat line. James J. Hill had an infallible
instinct for monopoly. That was a great deal of his success as a robber baron. He made an arrangement
with the U.S. government that his operation
would be the only one allowed to carry goods in
without going through customs. (narrator)
Hill's customs monopoly meant Hudson's Bay Company couldn't bring their own goods
across the border on their own steamboats. (Dr. Rhoda Gilman)
It was one year of competition,
but Hill and Kittson who knew each other, of course, they were both strong St. Paul
businessmen, got together. And Kittson joined Hill as his
partner in the steamboat trade. Through a
secret agreement, Kittson became the head of the
company that was established, and that was the Red River
Transportation Company. And Hill
stayed behind the scenes. Donald Smith, who was
the representative of the Hudson's Bay Company, actually was
the major shareholder in the Red River
Transportation Company. And what that allowed the
Hudson's Bay Company to have was a monopoly; you had to think
of them as being pirates. I mean,
that's how they got ahead. They're interest was
their own interest and anything
to make a profit. (narrator)
In 1874, Winnipeg businessmen
banded together to challenge the monopoly
by establishing The Merchants International
Steamboat Line. In the new boatyard in Moorhead,
two ships took shape, the aptly named "Manitoba" and her
sister ship, the "Minnesota." For perhaps the first time, the Red River would see what
true competition could bring. On its maiden voyage,
the "Manitoba" was plagued by troubles. Suspicious fires, customs delay, vanishing cargo, and all fingers
pointed to Kittson. Finally, when it got underway, they were able to get to Winnipeg on May 14th, 1875. There was a banner on it
that said, "We've got him," referring to Kittson, of course, 'cause they thought
they had broken the monopoly. What they didn't
sort of count on was what Kittson would do next,
or allegedly do next. On the return journey, they got as far as a place
called Le Mays Mill. And there, the "International,"
which was a Kittson steamboat, refused to cede ground;
the "International" captain managed to ram the "Manitoba"
with his steamboat, and that literally sank it. All these manipulations by
Kittson resulted in, they couldn't deliver
their freights. There was a lawsuit launched
against them by businessmen from Minneapolis
and from St. Paul, and from, believe it or not,
New York City, which made
the court seize the "Manitoba." The same thing
happened to the "Minnesota,"
which again, was seized. The merchants line tried
to negotiate with Kittson. They came up with an agreement
with him, but what happened was, Kittson again had a monopoly
because he basically gained the steamboats for
a pittance as to their value. So that was the end of it;
the great dream of having competition on the
Red River ended very abruptly. Despite the lack of competition,
steamboating flourished. In 1876, Kittson
bragged that he shipped more 76 million
pounds of freight on the Red River
between Fargo and Winnipeg. More than on the Mississippi between St. Paul and St. Louis. The 1870's were really
the decade of prosperity for steamboating on the Red
River, and what was going on, by 1870 Manitoba
was formed as a province, the railroad was inching
across Minnesota, and by 1871, it had reached
the banks of the Red River. And this whole area changed
tremendously during that period. (narrator)
As steamboats became
more common, they did not become more comfortable
for their passengers. It sounds very romantic and
Mark Twainish and stuff, but apparently, it was not a lot
of fun to be on. Mosquitos would come out
in clouds, people were sleeping outside
and the boat shakes because the big paddle really
vibrates the boats. It was not a pleasant ride,
it was overcrowded, expensive for those days,
but you didn't have a choice. You either went overland,
it took weeks or months, or you took a riverboat,
it took you days. (narrator)
Despite the reality
of riverboat travel, steamboats
took on a dashing air. They were seen
as colorful and romantic, and it became fashionable
to be aboard. Upper class tourists
became a new clientele. One such traveler
was Lady Dufferin, wife of the Governor General
of Western Canada. Although at first charmed
by the gaiety, decorated boats and effusive welcoming
ceremonies, she was less impressed after the
boat pulled away from the dock. (woman, as Lady Dufferin)
"Imagine sailing through hundreds of small ponds
all joined together, the second concealed
by the curve of the first, and you may form
some idea of the Red River. We run against one bank,
a steam is shut off, and in some mysterious manner,
we swinground till our bow is into the other,
then we rebound, and go on a few yards
till a sharp curve, brings us up against the side. Our stern wheel is often ashore,
and our captain and pilot must require
the patience of saints." [acoustic guitar plays
in bright rhythm] The river was so shallow in
places that there's no way a vessel fully loaded
would get down that river. I know you hear reports of they
would occasionally have to just get off the boat because
they can make it light enough that it would float and it would
become sort of an operational, okay, everybody off, everybody
back on, get going. Then, a little while later,
okay, everybody off again. (narrator) The steamboats
that plied the Red were not designed for comfort,
but for capacity. 'Cause it was all about
commerce, the tonnage, is what was crucial. Remember, you're talking about
a hundred tons of freight, and there's a going rate
for freight in 1870s of $2 per mile a ton, first class
from St. Paul to Winnipeg. It's all about moving goods. (narrator)
For $2 per ton per mile, the boats were crammed
with cargo of all kinds, including imported goods, food, farm implements, wagons, horses, sheep, and cows, and as many passengers
as possible. During one memorable trip,
the captain of a boat loaded
with Mennonite immigrants, recorded 7 births
in a single day! People really became attached
to the steamboats. When the boats tied up,
people would come running down to the shore to see what
kind of immigrants are coming, and what kind
of freight's being offloaded and who was going on
for the next trip. In Winnipeg
when the boats landed, they had to have special police
to keep back the crowds until the boat could be unloaded and all the passengers
disembarked, and the people getting
on their way. So it was the thing . In the fall,
when the last one left, apparently people sighed
a big sigh of regret and the steamboats are
gone for another year, even though they were not
very happy with the owners
of the steamboats who were gouging them in every corner,
they still loved the steamboats. (narrator)
As settlement grew and railroads
extended to the Red, buffalo robes and furs were
displaced by a new cargo headed to the Twin Cities. Hard number one spring wheat. Beginning in the late '80s, early '90s, you'll see images of elevators along
the Red River. That's because the Red River
and the riverboats were a crucial portion
of the grain industry. The farmer
would harvest his grain, haul it in a wagon
to the elevator to be offloaded from the
elevator onto the riverboat, and there the grain would be
taken to a major shipping point like Fargo, North Dakota,
where it'd be offloaded onto a railroad car,
then be taken to a mill. The thing was to try and get
the best price for your wheat. Those boats were crucial to agriculture
in the Red River Valley. In 1878, a Twin Cities based
railroad and a branch
of the Canadian Pacific met in Pembina. So you have
a rail link established between the Twin Cities
and Winnipeg. And that's a great turning point in the history
of Red River navigation. Our first train
in Western Canada, the "Countess of Dufferin," they brought
the steam train up on a barge, being pulled
by one of these steamboats up from Fargo to Winnipeg. So that was the first train
in Western Canada and they fired up the train
in Pembina, so that they could blow
the whistle on the train as it cleared
the border at Emerson. (narrator)
Ironically, that whistle sounded the eventual death knell
for the steamboat trade. In 1909, to commemorate
the 50th anniversary of the maiden voyage
of the "Anson Northrup," the Red River Transportation
Company planned one final cruise for its flagship
the "Grand Forks," which they hoped would revive
the failing steamboat industry. (Wayne Arseny) The steamboat
stopped in Emerson that last time. The mayor and the town
came out with the band and had the captain
and everybody for dinner, and had quite a celebration. When the boat arrived
in Winnipeg, it was no to-do affair at all
and barely made the news. (narrator)
On its return, the Grand Forks ran into a bridge piling
in Grand Forks and sunk, the last of the great
Red River steamboats. But for its owners,
the end of the steamboat era was not the end of the world. So you have a stereotypical
image of a crusty steamboat captain who can't do anything else. When steamboating ends,
he's sort of reduced to nostalgic memories. The rest
of his life is ruined; it's a complete
misrepresentation of what these people were like. Steamboat people were not solely speaking
"steamboat people." The steamboat people
were businessmen. This is James J. Hill, this is Norman Kittson, but what they're really doing is providing a unified
transportation system and if it entailed a combination of railroads
and steamboats, fine. If you reach the point
where railroads can do it and you no longer need
steamboats, they're not going to stay awake
at night crying about it. They've made their money. [cash register bell rings] [5-string banjo
& guitar play softly] I think when we put Red River
steamboating in perspective, the entire history
of transportation in Red River Valley,
it's not a huge chapter, but it's an important chapter. They were the transitional cog between the oxcarts
and the railroads. Once the railroads came in, that spelled the end
of steamboats on the Red River, but they served
an important purpose at a time when the Valley was
just really opening up to commerce and settlement. And at the core of it all,
of course, is this twisting, winding river
that we have here. (woman)
Winnipeg unloads, old tables,
printing presses, Flour, paper, plows, Fancy dresses, Whistles screech,
paddles ping, Time to fill the hold, Boat returns from Moorhead
with furs and buffalo robes. Place your bets
on the first spring day, The steamboats on the Red, Steamboat round the bend,
it's a steamboat on the Red, Whistle on ahead, Got a steamboat
on the Red, Red River. Steamboat round the bend,
it's a steamboat on the Red, Whistle on ahead,
got a steamboat... (woman) To order a DVD copy
of this program call... Or visit our online store at... ...and click on "shop." Production funding
is provided by: the Minnesota Arts
and Cultural Heritage Fund, with money from the vote
of the people of Minnesota on Nov. 4th, 2008; The North Dakota Humanities
Council, a nonprofit independent state partner of the National Endowment for the
Humanities; The Winnipeg Foundation; and the members
of Prairie Public.
