When the Northern Pacific Railway failed in 1873, the crash involved a little railroad known as the St. Paul and Pacific, running out of St. Paul for a couple of hundred miles westward, with a branch to the north joining the Northern Pacific at Brainerd, Minnesota. The St. Paul and Pacific had been acquired in the interest of the Northern Pacific some years earlier but was now regarded as a property so worthless that its owners would be glad to get rid of it, if only they could find a purchaser rash enough to take it over.
During the three years following the panic of 1873 the crops of Minnesota were practically eaten up by the grasshoppers, and poverty reigned among the farmers. At that time a short, stocky man with long hair, one blind eye, and the reputation of being the greatest talker in town, kept a coal and wood store in St. Paul. His name was James J. Hill. For years he had been a familiar figure, sitting in his old chair in front of his store and discoursing on current events. This man was not only an interesting talker; he was a visionary, a dreamer—and one of his dreams was to buy the St. Paul and Pacific Railroad and to transform it into a real railway line. Nearly twenty years had passed since he had drifted in, an eighteen-year-old Scotch-Irish boy from Ontario, and had begun work in a steamship office on the levee at St. Paul. Now, in 1876, he was thirty-eight years old and a town character. And the town felt that it had his measure. He had already tried a variety of occupations, and at this time was agent for lines of steamboats on the Mississippi and the Red River. Everybody knew him and liked him, but no one took him very seriously. The idea of his controlling the St. Paul and Pacific was even amusing.
Now the most promising part of the St. Paul and Pacific when it failed in 1873 was the line from St. Paul to Breckenridge on the Red River. Hill was the Mississippi steamboat agent at one end; at the other, an old Hudson Bay trader, Norman W. Kittson, ran two little old stern-wheel steamboats from Breckenridge to Winnipeg. A large part of the freight that Hill and Kittson handled was for the Hudson's Bay Company. It came up the Mississippi, went across on the St. Paul and Pacific to Breckenridge, and then down the Red River on Kittson's steamboats until it was received at Fort Garry, Winnipeg, by Donald Alexander Smith, then commissioner for the Hudson's Bay Company.
Smith, who became afterwards Lord Strathcona and High Commissioner for Canada in England, was a tall, lean, urbane Scotchman with a soft manner and a long red beard. In 1876 he was fifty-six years old, with a life of strange, wild adventure behind him. He had gone when little more than a boy to Labrador to take charge of a station of the Hudson's Bay Company. Among the northern Indians he stayed for thirteen years. In the sixties he was practically king over all the savage territory of the company along the waters entering Hudson Bay. By the seventies he was a man of means and he had some influence in the new Dominion of Canada.
It would be a great advantage to Smith to have a good railroad from St. Paul to Winnipeg as the Red River boats were frozen up in the winter and the service on the St. Paul and Pacific, under the receiver, was impossible. So Smith listened with favor to Hill's project of getting hold of the St. Paul and Pacific and making a real railroad out of it. And whenever Smith went to Montreal he talked the matter over with his cousin George Stephen—later Lord Mount Stephen—who was the head of the Bank of Montreal. In 1877 Stephen and Richard B. Angus, the general manager of the Bank, went to Chicago on business. While there, they had two weeks' time on their hands, and tossed a penny to decide whether to run down to St. Louis or up to St. Paul. The penny sent them to St. Paul. "I am glad of that," said Stephen; "it will give us a chance to see the prairies and look over that St. Paul and Pacific road that Donald Smith is always talking about."
When they arrived in St. Paul, James J. Hill took them over the line to Breckenridge. The country had been scoured by the grasshoppers and looked like the top of an old rusty stove. But Stephen was a broad-minded man, wise enough to know that the pest of grasshoppers could not last forever. He was greatly impressed with the ultimate possibilities of the soil and, under the hypnotic influence of Hill's eloquence, became quite enthusiastic over the scheme for getting hold of the railroad; but, as it would evidently involve millions, he didn't see how it could be done.
The road had originally been financed by bonds sold largely in Holland, and to do anything at all it was necessary to get in touch with these Dutch bondholders. In 1877 Stephen went over to Amsterdam and secured an option on the bonds at thirty cents on the dollar—less than the accrued interest which was due and unpaid on them. He then came back to America, conferred with John S. Kennedy at New York, who represented both Dutch and American bondholders, and brought Kennedy into the combination.
In the spring of 1878 the St. Paul and Pacific was taken over. People still smiled at Hill and wondered how he had induced a hard-headed bank president like Stephen to put up the money. Nobody in St. Paul believed in the future of the road. Even the syndicate's attorneys, when offered a choice between taking $25,000 in cash or $500,000 of the new road's stock for their services, preferred the cash. Had they taken the stock and held it for thirty years, they would have had, in principal and interest, some $30,000,000.
To the surprise of everybody, including Hill and his friends, the grasshoppers suddenly disappeared in the early summer of 1877 and never came back. That summer saw the biggest wheat crop that had ever been harvested in Minnesota. "Hill's Folly," as it was afterwards called, with its thirty locomotives and few hundred cars, was feverish with success. Hill worked every possible source to get extra cars and went all the way to New York to buy a lot of discarded passenger coaches from the Harlem Railroad. By the end of the season it was evident to everybody that the St. Paul and Pacific was going to have a career and that "Jim" Hill's dream was coming true.
Immediately the fortunate owners began to plan for the future. They had acquired the road at an initial cost of only $280,000 in cash. In the following year they advanced money for the completion of the unfinished section, as necessary to obtain the benefit of a generous grant of land from the State. Then, in 1879, having acquired full possession of the property, and having several millions of dollars in profits, they issued bonds for further developments. This gave them sufficient basis to enlarge their scheme greatly, and in the formation of the St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba Railroad, they created $15,000,000 of stock, which was divided equitably among Hill, Stephen, Angus, Smith, Kennedy, and Kittson. This stock was all "water," but the railroad prospered so extraordinarily in the succeeding few years that by 1882 the stock was worth $140 a share. And in 1883 they issued to themselves $10,000,000 of six per cent bonds for $1,000,000—a further division of $9,000,000, coming out of nothing but good will, earning power, and future prospects.