A. E. Horton

He landed in Milwaukee, in May, 1836, and soon after was one of a party of six on the trail for the Rock River country. There were no roads, and the best inn to be found was to turn in their blankets under an oak tree. But the mosquitoes promptly presented bills for their lodgings. After thirty nights camping, they reached the cabin of Mr. and Mrs. Janes, the parents of the now lively city of Janesville. Theirs was the only house, and that about 10x16 feet in size, but immense in hospitality. After partaking of the latter, the party (among whom were the names of Churchill, Odell, Ogden and Jewett) continued on until reaching the foot of Koskonong Lake, where each one made a quarter-section claim, built a cabin, and went back to Milwaukee. One of those claims, at least, was left for another pre-emptor, with the cabin thrown in, for Horton was soon too busy to think farther about it. Others waited, with hands in pockets, for the approaching land sales; he took up the shovel and worked on the new streets. Money was worth too much to be wasted by idleness. A working-man always gains more profitable knowledge than a loafer. His capital was labor and observation, and out of these were to be wrought a fortune.

Of the two hotels then in the new city, he had selected the Bellevue for his lodgings. Two bits a night paid for his share of a room, and his own blankets were bed and bedding. His room-mates were sometimes as many as sixteen; and his rule was "early to bed." Two nephews of the Receiver at the Land-Office came in one evening full of an important secret which they must talk over. The young fellow who worked on the road was the only one retired, besides themselves, and his hearty snoring satisfied them that he was beyond hearing. Their authority was official, so no danger of mistakes. The bills of the Michigan State Bank and Farmers' and Mechanics' Bank would be taken at par at the land sales, and consequently would be as good as gold, and worth the premium of at least 10 per cent. They would quietly gather it in for the occasion. The next day our sleeper was not shoveling on the street. He was learning the whereabouts of holders of certain styles of Michigan currency, and was soon doing a brisk exchange business with his New York Safety Fund Savings, amounting to $300. At night he was in his room, happy in the prospective addition to his funds; but there were two other persons there who thought they had little success in securing the coveted currency. It was unaccountable, for were they not the only individuals to whom the secret had been imparted?

The sales of Government land commenced the following day, and Horton was present with his receivable funds. He bought no land, but his money was in immediate and continuous demand. Many times during the sale he retired to replenish his bank stock by exchanging bank notes with numerous parties according to previous arrangement. The enterprise was a financial success. Here his quick perception did him good service, for he was marked as a prize by a thieving gang. One of them formed his acquaintance on the evening of a profitable day, and tried to learn his intended movements. Yes, he would soon go to his lodging-place; but that night he concluded it would be best for him to remain where he was, and he did so. But another young man, about his age, and similarly dressed, was waylaid on the very route Horton was expected to travel, caught, gagged and carried off to a safe place for robbery. In the dark they had captured the wrong man, as his empty pockets and the cut of his coat proved on careful examination.

Thinking the country a safer place, he went out three miles, to where his uncle, Dwight Foster, was superintending one of the first saw-mills built in Wisconsin. While there another attempt was made to entrap him. One, Robinson, came from town to inform him that a man named Johnson would take a named sum for some land which he had talked of buying. He must be sharp if the trade was secured, and should take his money with him for that reason. Horton promptly decided to take more, and quietly deposited a loaded pistol in each pocket of his hunter's coat. His caller carried a suspicious-looking hickory cudgel, altogether too cumbersome for a cane, and explained that he had been tracking a wild animal, which he hoped they could identify by the marks. In a low, marshy place, a little off their road, its tracks were most clearly made. Descending to the spot indicated, he urged Horton to follow him, and determine what sort of creature had crossed there. Instead of complying Horton presented a pistol, told his man if he found no tracks there as described, he would shoot him without further notice. The villain was outwitted, and preferred returning to town a short distance in advance of the ready weapons of his captor. It was ascertained that Johnson knew nothing of the fellow's errand, and that the only foot-prints about the miry trap in which Robinson had hoped to catch his game, were made by himself. He was next heard of, a few years afterwards, in the Iowa penitentiary, committed for horse-stealing.

Returning to the East Mr. Horton passed the time until 1840, in various places and employments, the last being at St. Mary's with the American Fur Co. His first western home was purchased in the town of Oakland, Wis., that year, to which locality his father and family followed not long after. In a few months more he had established himself matrimonially and happily. Three years engaged in miscellaneous trade, land figuring as the principal item, he became a cattle-dealer. He bought his beef in Illinois, did the largest part of the driving, and averaged two trips in five weeks. He furnished his customers so satisfactorily in his own and adjoining counties, that in one year his original capital of $150 was increased to $4,000. In St. Louis he saw profits in land-warrants, and bought sufficient to locate 1,500 acres of land. Out of this investment grew the village of Hortonville, in Outagamie Co., Wis. His first town was buried in the woods, and he went to work with eight men to cut a four-mile road to his proposed mill-site. By the time he had lots to sell, he was sawing lumber with which to improve them. The prices and payment for material was of small account with the proprietor. Houses must be built, whether settlers had money or not. In a year from the completion of the mill, 150 people were living in Hortonville, and at the end of two years sold out the remaining property, being $7,188 better for his enterprise.

In 1851, Mr. Horton went to California for the first time. Mining-stock was his first business experience, and it cost him $1,000. It was his last transaction in that line also. Spent a few months at mining in El Dorado and Placer Counties, and then opened a store at Pilot Hill. There also he devised and constructed a ditch 6½ miles in length, purposing to supply the miners with water as well as other commodities. At the end of a year he had sold out his water-works and other interests for $6,500, of which sum he had used the larger portion in his improvements. Next he was trading in gold-dust on account of Adams' Express Co., realizing usually $30 a day in commissions. A day or two before the failure of his employers, in 1853, a friend suggested to him, that his money remaining in their office at ——, might be safer in his own pocket. It was "a word to the wise," and before noon the next day he had ridden 30 miles, and much to the dissatisfaction of the agent, drawn his money from the safe of the company. His next care was for his friends hard at work in the mining-camps and elsewhere. To all whom he could reach he gave the hint, and thousands of dollars were secured, by his prompt efforts, to those who had earned the money by the hardest of toil. The following day the express offices were closed, and payments suspended. He was in capital standing in the mining districts where he had operated, and resumed the business with himself for banker. He bought at the mines and sold in the towns, often with a profit of $4.50 per ounce. He was a man of dust, and with his native adroitness, managed to carry valuable deposits of the precious article upon his person without a single mishap. Sometimes his outer garments would scarcely secure him other than the slightest attentions. His landlords were afraid their bills would be unpaid, except his fares were collected in advance. He arrived one evening at one of the rough taverns of those times, with treasure enough about him to incite the gamblers about him to worse crimes for its possession. His good clothes were covered with very dirty overalls and woolen shirt. In calculating Yankee phrase, he interrogated the proprietor as to his accommodations for man and beast, and the reasonableness of his charges. Card-playing ceased for a time in the general astonishment, then the party shouted with laughter at the green chap from Connecticut. They bantered him to play off a Yankee trick. He showed them how to eat the mush and milk, which he had stipulated for as his supper, and with a yawn of indifference to the jests made at his expense, he signified his desire to sleep. The door of his room was without lock or bolt, but the landlord laughingly assured his guest, that he would be the last man anybody would think of robbing. He awoke next morning from an undisturbed sleep, and at breakfast-time was up and dressed. He passed over a small package of dust in settlement, which was accepted and pronounced all right. Word was sent to the stable, his horse could now be brought out—his bill was paid.

"Mister, want to buy some more o' that stuff?"

"Yes;" replying with a surprised look.