Making Connections

              M. V. Wickersham

Mark Twain said, “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”  My journey to Alaska had been a search for the “why” and in retrospect, I didn’t find many answers, but what an experience it was! 

When I boarded the M. V. Wickersham at Haines, Alaska to head back to the lower 48 in the fall of ’68, I knew nothing of the ship’s namesake, Judge James Wickersham, a federal judge appointed by President William McKinley.  It wasn’t important at the time, and it’s only recently that it’s become so.  At any rate, it was thrilling to stand on the shore and watch the ship, all 364 feet of it, glide into Port Chilkoot.  Then when it was tied up, I watched a deckhand feed my mud-caked ’66 Impala into the mouth of the cargo hold where I wouldn’t see it for the next day and a half.  A scrapbooked receipt reminds me that my ticket to ride was $33.25 and the car’s $96.00.

The Wickersham was one of the fleet of inside passage ferries operated by the state for the purpose of carrying passengers and freight between northern coastal cities of Alaska.   James Wickersham earned high regards for his work in Alaska and received the honor of having this modern vessel named for him.  But what of all this?  The saga of Wickersham starts in North Dakota during the gold rush at Lisbon in the year 1883.

 A railroad surveyor, Henry Griswold, saw his compass needle quivering when his crew passed over an area on the Sheyenne River by Lisbon.  He knew it might indicate the presence of minerals and returned the following year with a couple of partners to investigate further.  Little did they know their findings would unleash a chain of events filled with excitement that would lead to criminal activity in the territory of Alaska.

The partners dug samples and during the evening hours took them to their shack to assay them where, sure enough, traces of gold appeared.  But so did neighbors sneaking a peak through a grimy window to watch and gossip the strange goings-on.  On October 19, 1883 Griswold headed for A. H. Laughlin’s office of Register of Deeds and recorded a patent on that particular piece of land he’d purchased.  A curious Laughlin  started wheedling Griswold for some answers as to what was going on.

He disclosed their find, word spread, and in just a few days every incoming train on that new Northern Pacific rail line was crowded with gold seekers.  On arrival, they spread out along the Sheyenne river valley and began crawling around like ants with shovels and picks in their hands. Many claims were filed, and after looking at the names on that list, it will be assumed many of them did not intend to dirty their hands by digging in the dirt.  Take for example the names of H. C. Hansbrough, U. S. Senator; George B. Winship, the editor of the Grand Forks Herald; other familiar North Dakota names such as Steele, Grandin, and A. H. Noyes who will soon connect to my Alaska theme.  As Mr. Laughlin said, “No doubt this is where Judge Noyes took his first gold lessons, as a pursuit of the study of the mining craft gave him fame in Alaska.”

Gold fever didn’t last long here because it didn’t yield enough to cover the costs of recovery and refinement.  Newspapers around the country watched developments.  On November 2 the Bismarck Tribune wrote “Brick yards have been torn to pieces, gold having been found in the bricks, and the authorities are kept on the alert to prevent prospectors from ruining the few brick structures in the town.”   The Yankton paper reported already by December 1, 1883, “Lisbon’s gold craze has died away.”

No one got rich here, but A. H. Noyes headed to Alaska at the invitation of our infamous North Dakotan Alexander McKenzie who had headed there for gold riches. McKenzie knew Noyes drank a lot and had financial problems, so therefore could be exploited to do his bidding. McKenzie lobbied President McKinley to appoint Noyes as an Alaskan District Judge.  According to the San Francisco Call, Noyes arrived in Nome on July 21, 1900 and two days later named McKenzie the receiver of disputed gold mines.  Unimpeded, they stole and banked the gold in their name until the law finally caught up and stopped it.

Their scheming is too complicated to be explained here, but it ended with McKenzie being thrown in a San Francisco jail where he sat for only a few weeks until President McKinley pardoned him.  Noyes received a $1000 fine and was removed from office.  Their departure left the legal system with quite a mess.  Who straightened it up?  Judge James Wickersham.

lynn.bueling@gmail.com