Untold Delights of Duluth"
Speech of J. Proctor Knott in the U.S. House of Representatives in 1871.
From the American Heritage, June, 1971, Edited by David G.
On January 27, 1871, a
forty year old congressman from Kentucky, who was little known outside of his
state, sought recognition on the floor of the United States House of
Representatives. In the next half
hour, however, he would change that. He
would take up the question of whether federal lands should be given to the St.
Croix and Lake Superior Railroad in order to build a new line that would run
from Houlton, Wisconsin, on the St. Croix River, to Superior, Wisconsin,
located at the western end of Lake Superior and, as it happened, close by a
scraggly Minnesota village of some three thousand people, called Duluth.
According to the
Congressional Globe, Knott was interrupted by "laughter",
"great laughter", "roars of laughter" and "shouts of
laughter" a total of sixty-two times.
Once he had finished, the bill for the railroad was dead as it could
be, and he had made famous, by mistake, little Duluth, which the railroad had
never meant to put on the map in the first place.
....Years ago, when I
first heard that there was somewhere in the vast terra incognita, somewhere in
the bleak regions of the great
Northwest, a stream of water known to the nomadic inhabitants of the
neighborhood as the river St. Croix, I became satisfied that the construction
of a railroad from that raging torrent to some point in the civilized world
was essential to the happiness and prosperity of the American people, if not
absolutely indispensable to the perpetuity of republican institutions on this
continent. I felt instinctively
that the boundless resources of that prolific region of sand and pine
shrubbery would never be fully developed without a railroad constructed and
equipped at the expense of the Government and perhaps not then.
I had an abiding presentiment that, some day or other, the people of
this whole country, irrespective of party affiliations, regardless of
sectional prejudices, and "without distinction of race, color or previous
condition of servitude," would rise in their majesty and demand an outlet
for the enormous agricultural productions of those vast and fertile pine
barrens, drained in the rainy season by the surging waters of the turbid St.
...Now, sir, who...who
that is not as incredulous as St. Thomas himself, will doubt for a moment that
the Goshen of America is to be found in the sandy valleys and upon the
pineclad hills of the St. Croix? Who
will have the hardihood to rise in his seat on this floor and assert that,
excepting the pine bushes, the entire region would not produce vegetation
enough in ten years to fatten a grasshopper?
Where is the patriot who is willing that his country shall incur the
peril of remaining another day without the amplest railroad connection with
such an inexhaustible mine of agricultural wealth?
Who will answer for the consequences of abandoning a great and warlike
people, in possession of a country like that, to brood over the indifference
and neglect of their government? How
long would it be before they would take to studying the Declaration of
Independence and hatching out the damnable heresy of secession?
How long before the grim demon of civil discord would rear again his
horrid head in our midst, "gnash loud his iron fangs and shake his crest
of bristling bayonets?"
. . . Now, sir, I
repeat I have been satisfied for years that if there was any portion of the
inhabited globe absolutely in a suffering condition for the want of a railroad
it was these teeming pine barrens of the St. Croix.
At what particular point on that noble stream such a road should be
commenced I knew was immaterial, and so it seems to have been considered by
the draughtsman of this bill. It
might be up at the spring or down at the foot log, or the water gate, or the
fish dam, or anywhere along the bank, no matter where.
But in what direction it should run, or where it should terminate, were
always to my mind questions of the most painful perplexity.
I could conceive of no place on "Gods green earth" in such
straightened circumstances for railroad facilities as to be likely to desire
or willing to accept such a connection . . . .
Hence, as I have said,
sir, I was utterly at a loss to determine where the terminus of this great and
indispensable road should be, until I accidentally overhead some gentleman the
other day mention the name of "Duluth." Duluth! The word
fell upon my ear with peculiar and indescribable charm, like the gentle murmur
of a low fountain stealing forth in the midst of roses, or the soft, sweet
accents of an angel's whisper in the bright, joyous
dream of sleeping innocence. Duluth!
''''twas the name for
which my soul had panted for years, as the hart panteth for the water brooks.
But where was Duluth? Never,
in all my limited reading, had my vision been gladdened by seeing the
celestial word in print. And I
felt a profounder humiliation in my ignorance that its dulcet syllables had
never before ravished my delighted ear. I
was certain the draughtsman of this bill had never heard of it, or it would
have been designated as one of the termini of this road.
I asked my friends about it, but they knew nothing of it.
I rushed to the Library and examined all the maps I could find.
I discovered in one of them a delicate, hairlike line, diverging from
the Mississippi near a place marked, which I supposed was intended to
represent the river St. Croix, but I could nowhere find Duluth.
Nevertheless, I was
confident It existed somewhere, and that its discovery would constitute the
crowning glory of the present century, if not of all modern times. I knew it was
bound to exist in the very nature of things; that the symmetry and perfection
of our planetary systems would be incomplete without it, that the elements of
material nature would long since have resolved themselves back into original
chaos if there had been such a hiatus in creation as would have resulted from
leaving out Duluth. In fact, sir,
I was overwhelmed with the conviction that Duluth not only existed somewhere,
but that wherever it was it was a great and glorious place.
I was convinced that the greatest calamity that ever befell the
benighted nations of the ancient world was in their having passed away without
a knowledge of the actual existence of Duluth; that their fabled Atlantis,
never seen save by the hallowed vision of inspired poesy, was, in fact, but
another name for Duluth; that the golden orchard of the Hesperides was but a
poetical synonym for the beergardens of Duluth.
I was certain that Herodotus had died a miserable death because in all
his travels and with all his geographical research he had never heard of
Duluth. I knew that if the
immortal spirit of Homer could look down from another heaven than that created
by his own celestial genius upon the long lines of pilgrims from every nation
of the earth to the gushing fountain of poesy opened by the touch of his magic
wand, if he could be permitted to behold the vast assemblage of grand and
glorious productions of the lyric art called into being by his owned inspired
strains, he would weep tears of bitter anguish that instead of lavishing all
the stores of his mighty genius upon the fall of Ilion, it had not been his
more blessed lot to crystallize in deathless song the rising glories of
Duluth. Yet, sir, had it not been
for this map, kindly furnished by the Legislature of Minnesota, I might have
gone down to my obscure and humble grave in an agony of despair, because I
could nowhere find Duluth. Had
such been my melancholy fate, I have no doubt that with the last feeble
pulsation of my breaking heart, I should have whispered, "Where is
But, thanks to the
beneficence of that band of ministering angels who have their bright abodes in
the far-off capital of Minnesota, just as the agony of my anxiety was about to
culminate in the frenzy of despair, this blessed map was placed in my hands;
and as I unfolded it a resplendent scene of ineffable glory opened before me,
such as I imagine burst upon the enraptured vision of the wandering peri
through the opening gates of paradise. There,
there for the first time, my enchanted eye rested upon the ravishing word
This map, sir, is
intended, as it appears from its title, to illustrate the position of Duluth
in the United States; but if gentlemen will examine it, I think they will
concur with me in the opinion that it is far too modest in its pretensions.
It not only illustrates the position of Duluth in the United States,
but exhibits its relations with all created things.
It even goes further than this. It
lifts the shadowy veil of futurity and affords us a view of the golden
prospects of Duluth far along the dim vista of ages yet to come.
If gentlemen will
examine it they will find Duluth not only in the center of the map, but
represented in the center of a series of concentric circles one hundred miles
apart, and some them as much as four thousand miles in diameter, embracing
alike in their tremendous sweep the fragrant savannas of the sunlit south and
the eternal solitudes of snow that mantle the icebound North.
How these circles were produced is perhaps one of those primordial
mysteries that the post skillful paleologist will never be able to explain.
But the fact is, sir, Duluth is preeminently a central place, for I am
told by gentlemen who have been so reckless of their own personal safety as to
venture away into those awful regions where Duluth is supposed to be that it
is so exactly in the center of the visible universe that the sky comes down at
precisely the same distance all around it.
I find by reference to
this map that Duluth is situated somewhere near the western end of Lake
Superior, but as there is no dot or other mark indicating its exact location I
am unable to say whether it is actually confined to any particular spot, or
whether "it is just lying around there loose."
I really cannot tell whether it is one of those ethereal creations of
intellectual frostwork, more intangible than the rosetinted clouds of a summer
sunset; one of those airy exhalations of the speculator's brain, which I am
told are ever flitting in the form of towns and cities along those lines of
railroad built with Government subsidies, luring the unwary settler as the
mirage of the desert lures the famishing traveler on, and ever on, until it
fades away in the darkening horizon, or whether it is a real, bona fide,
substantial city, all "staked off," with the lots marked with their
owners' names, like that proud commercial metropolis recently discovered on
the desirable shores of San Domingo. But,
however that may be, I am satisfied Duluth is there, or thereabout, for I see
it stated here on the map that it is exactly thirty-nine hundred and ninety
miles from Liverpool, though I have no doubt, for the sake of convenience, it
will be moved back ten miles, so as to make the distance an even four
Then, sir, there is the
climate of Duluth, unquestionably the most salubrious and delightful to be
found anywhere on the Lord's earth. Now,
I have always been under the impression, as I presume other gentlemen have,
that in the region around Lake Superior it was cold enough for at least nine
months in the year to freeze the smokestack off a locomotive. But I see it represented on this map that Duluth is situated
exactly halfway between the latitudes of Paris and Venice, so that gentlemen
who have inhaled the exhilarating airs of the one or basked in the golden
sunlight of the other may see at a glance that Duluth must be a place of
untold delights, a terrestrial paradise, fanned by the balmy zephyrs of an
eternal spring, clothed in the gorgeous sheen of everblooming flowers, and
vocal with the silvery melody of nature's choicest songsters . . . .
. . . As to the
commercial resources of Duluth, sir, they are simply illimitable and
inexhaustible, as is shown by this map. I
see it here stated that there is a vast scope of territory, embracing an area
of over two million square miles, rich in every element of material wealth and
commercial prosperity, all tributary to Duluth.
[Points to the map.] Look
at it, sir. Here are
inexhaustible mines of gold, immeasurable veins of silver, impenetrable depths
of boundless forest, vast coalmeasures, wide, extended plains of richest
pasturage, all, all embraced in this vast territory, which must, in the very
nature of things, empty the untold treasures of its commerce into the lap of
Look at it sir, do not
you see from these broad, brown lines drawn around this immense territory that
the enterprising inhabitants of Duluth intend some day to enclose it all in
one vast corral, so that its commerce will be bound to go there whether it
would or not? And here, sir, I
find within a convenient distance the Piegan Indians, which, of all the many
accessories to the glories of Duluth, I consider by far the most inestimable.
For, sir, I have been told that when the smallpox breaks out among the
women and children of that famous tribe, as it sometimes does, they afford the
finest subjects in the world for the strategical experiments of any
enterprising military hero who desires to improve himself in the noble art of
war, especially for any valiant lieutenant general whose
blade, Toledo trusty,
want of fighting has grown rusty.
eats into itself for lack
Somebody to hew and hack.
...And here, sir,
recurring to this map, I find in the immediate vicinity of the Piegans
"vast herds of buffalo" and "immense fields of rich wheat
[Here the hammer fell.
Many cries: "Go on!
Go on!" THE
SPEAKER|: Is there objection to the gentleman from Kentucky continuing
his remarks?. . . The Chair hears none. The
gentleman will proceed.]
. . . I was remarking,
sir, upon these vast "wheat fields" represented on this map in the
immediate neighborhood of the buffaloes and the Piegans, and was about to say
that the idea of there being these immense wheat fields in the very heart of a
wilderness, hundreds and hundreds of miles beyond the utmost verge of
civilization, may appear to some gentlemen as rather incongruous, as rather
too great a strain on the "blankets" of veracity.
But to my mind there is no difficulty in the matter whatever.
The phenomenon is very easily accounted for.
It is evident, sir, that the Piegans sowed that wheat there and plowed
it with buffalo bulls. Now, sir,
this fortunate combination of buffaloes and Piegans, considering their
relative position to each other and to Duluth, as they are arranged on this
map, satisfies me that Duluth is destined to be the beef market of the world.
Here, you will observe,
are the buffaloes, directly between the Piegans and Duluth and here, right on
the road to Duluth, are the Creeks. Now,
sir, when the buffaloes are sufficiently fat from grazing on those immense
wheat fields you see it will be the easiest thing in the world for the Piegans
to drive them on down, stay all night with their friends, the Creeks, and go
into Duluth in the morning. I
think I see them now, sire, a vast herd of buffaloes, with their heads down,
their eyes glaring, their nostrils dilated, their tongues out, and their tails
curled over their backs, tearing along toward Duluth, with about a thousand
Piegans on their grassbellied ponies, yelling at their heels! On they come! And
as they sweep past the Creeks they join in the chase, and away they all go,
yelling, bellowing, ripping, and tearing along, amid clouds of dust, until the
last buffalo is safely penned in the stockyards of Duluth.
Sir, I might stand here
for hours and hours and expatriate with rapture upon the gorgeous prospects of
Duluth, as depicted upon this map. But
human life is too short and time of this House far too valuable to allow me to
linger longer upon the delightful theme.
I think every gentleman on this floor is as well satisfied as I am that
Duluth is destined to become the commercial metropolis of the universe, and
that this road should be built at once. I
am fully persuaded that no patriotic Representative of the American people,
who has a proper appreciation of the associated glories of Duluth and the St.
Croix, will hesitate a moment to say that every able-bodied female in the land
between the ages of eighteen and forty-five who is in favor of woman's rights
should be drafted and set to work upon this great work without delay.
Nevertheless, sir, it grieves my very soul to be compelled to say that
I cannot vote for the grant of lands provided for in this bill.
sir, you can have no conception of the poignancy of my anguish that I
am deprived of that blessed privilege. There
are two insuperable obstacles in the way.
In the first place, my constituents, for whom I am acting here, have no
more interest in this road than they have in the great question of culinary
taste now perhaps agitating the public mind of Dominica, as to whether the
illustrious commissioners who recently left this capital for the free and
enlightened republic would be better fricasseed, boiled, or roasted, and in
the second place those lands, which I am asked to give away, alas, are not
mine to bestow! My relation to
them is simply that of trustee to an express trust.
And shall I ever betray that trust?
Never, sir! Rather perish
Duluth! Perish the paragon of
cities! Rather let the freezing
cyclones of the black Northwest bury it forever beneath the eddying sands of
the raging St. Croix!
Knott never made another speech such as this and ended his life as a
journalist. So, although not
a success story, the young city of village of Duluth was and is greatful
to him and at the least one occasion invited him back to show their gratitude.
For although the railroad bill was defeated, largely because of the
speech, the speech itself was published in virtually every eastern newspaper,
and you cant buy advertising like that.
gratitude, in 1890 the Duluth Missabe and Northern Railroad, the
transportation arm of the Iron Ore mines of the Mesabi range, chose
"Proctor Knott" to be the name of their huge car sorting yards just
outside of Duluth