The Great
Sawmill Heist
By Victor
Moiles and Charles M. Bump
Around noon
on April 1, 1889, the steam tug Tom Dowling pushed its way
through the ice flows of the partially open De Tour Passage towards the
village of De Tour on the eastern tip of the Upper Peninsula. The tug,
pulling two large barges, slipped silently next to the docks at the
Moiles brothers’ sawmill. The Tom Dowling was the first boat to
break the ice of the De Tour Passage, signaling the opening of the
shipping season—a big deal for the small lumbering community that was
normally marked with celebration. But the boat’s mysterious silence
alarmed some local townspeople who began to wonder what was going on at
the Moiles sawmill.
What
townspeople didn’t know was that five years earlier the five Moiles
brothers—John, James, George, Charles and Henry Jr.—had become
indebted to the Buffalo, New York, firm of Hurd and Hanenstein for one
hundred thousand dollars. A mortgage was placed on the Moiles De Tour
mill and all the real estate they owned, including several outlying
logging camps and the mill’s dockage. The mortgage required that the
mill saw five million board feet of lumber each season during the loan’s
term. Hurd and Hanenstein would get one dollar per thousand board feet
sawn. The mortgage papers were drawn up September 8, 1884, and placed on
record in Sault Ste. Marie’s courthouse on October 25, 1884.
But something
went wrong. In early 1885 there was bickering about the terms of the
mortgage and Hurd and Hanenstein began foreclosure proceedings. The
Moiles brothers took opposing action, which led to an impasse. It is
unknown why Hurd and Hanenstein took such a drastic measure since the
mill could have easily produced the amount of board feet required in the
loan agreement. Whatever the reason, the mortgage was being foreclosed
and the Moiles brothers had no intention of surrendering their sawmill.
The brothers had a reputation for getting their way and, in this case,
desperate times called for desperate measures.
The first
inkling of something unusual going on at the sawmill was when the Tom
Dowling pulled up to the Moiles’ sawmill dock. The Tom Dowling
had the reputation for having the noisiest, most hysterical sirens on
the lakes. The mere sounding of it was said to frighten river settlers
and animals as far as five miles inland. Moreover, young captain Johnny
Moiles, nephew of the mill-owning brothers, was usually heavy-handed on
the siren. This time the boat was quiet.
The silent
tug was not immediately noticed by the townspeople because other events
were on their minds. It was an election day and clusters of citizens
were scattered on De Tour’s streets, including those by the docks. On
one of those clusters was twenty-year-old Bill Jones, not yet of voting
age, but still active in campaigning for T. C. Anthony, the area’s
Republican boss.
Politics soon
gave way to curiosity when the Tom Dowling came into view towing
two empty, fair-sized barges. When the tug was recognized, spectators
speculated why it had not sounded its whistle. One person commented that
the whistle must have been broken. Another said, "It ain’t like
Johnny Moiles to keep his hand off that blamed whistle." The
growing crow, buoyed by curiosity it could not restrain, went down to
the Moiles’ dock where the boat had tied up hard. Bill Jones, who was
to have a larger role in the whole affair, went along with them.
"After
the barges had been tied up," Jones said, "about fifty men
came topside on them and began to hop ashore. By jingo, they were
tough-looking customers, too! Someone asked what was up, and one of the
Moiles boys explained the men were there to overhaul the mill’s
machinery, to get ready for the milling season."
That day
nothing much was done. The next day the men started dismantling the
machinery and, according to Jones, lugged it, "piecemeal and apart
by part aboard those barges." The Sault Ste. Marie News
later reported that between one and two hundred men worked on the
project.
The Moiles
brothers, employers to many of the townspeople, were well thought of, so
few believed that there was anything suspicious going on. There was also
speculation, spread by Moils’ workmen, that the machinery was to be
taken to Saginaw for the overhaul operation. During this time, the
"tough-looking customers" that Jones had described worked long
and hard. Piece by piece, much of the sawmill disappeared into the
bowels of the barges.
There were those who, for
one reason or another, did not hold the Moiles brothers in high esteem.
One of those people was T. C. Anthony, and unfortunately for the
Moileses, he also knew about the mortgage. Anthony immediately contacted
Hurd and Hanenstein, who directed the political boss to retain a lawyer
to stop the Moileses at all costs. City attorney H. M. Ore was hired. As
Ore watched the sawmill disappear, he tried to notify the sheriff and
let him determine what further action was required. Ore hurried to his
telephone and cranked it, but to no avail. Someone, probably a Moiles
employee, had cut the telephone line connecting De Tour to the rest of
the world.
Not being able to call the
sheriff in Sault Ste. Marie, Ore told Anthony to send someone on
horseback to the Sault. Bill Jones was elected and off he went. It was
to be a ride rivaling that of Paul Revere, atop a nag over forty miles
of dark forest trails. "But the Moiles’ mill was De Tour’s only
sawmill," Jones said, "and it employed about a hundred men. We
couldn’t allow it to be carried away like that." He galloped off
at 7:00 A.M. Fourteen hours later, horse and man indescribably weary
arrived in Pickford. He hoped to use the telephone but the office had
closed for the day. Jones placed the horse in the livery stable and then
took a bed in a hotel for the night.
Early the next morning,
Jones called Chippewa county sheriff Donald M. McKenzie with his report.
McKenzie already had some idea of the situation because his half-brother
John Murray had just returned from a trip to De Tour and had told
McKenzie that the sawmill was almost completely taken down and on board
the barges. The sheriff did not have many men and was not keen on going
after the Moiles brothers who he described as "the toughest, most
desperate family that ever came to this country. They don’t hesitate
to draw revolvers or knives and will use any weapon in a
scrimmage." McKenzie told Jones that he needed a boat and because
the upper St. Mary’s River was iced over, he would have to go to St.
Ignace to secure one, a trip of perhaps several days. He added that
Jones should return to De Tour and report to Anthony. After arriving,
Jones commented, "By the time we got there, the poor old horse
could hardly walk—and neither could I. We were both about the same
age, that horse and me, but he didn’t last too long after that."
While McKenzie was trying
to find a boat, the sawmill, now loaded onto the barges, left De Tour.
Pulled by the Tom Dowling, the barges headed across Lake Huron’s
North Channel toward the Spanish River in Canada. The Moiles brothers
figured they could reestablish their operation in the pine forests of
upper Ontario, Canada. Since they would be in a foreign country, they
could elude the Hurd and Hanenstein debt. The heavily laden tugboat
struggled through the icy waters toward the Spanish River, becoming
ice-bound among the Canadian islands of Potagannissing Bay.
Unable to find a boat in
St. Ignace, Sheriff McKenzie, a deputy and attorney Ore set off to
Cheboygan and engaged the tug Cuyler and the services of twenty
additional men to take them in pursuit of the Tom Dowling. But
after the owners of the Cuyler learned they were chasing the
Moiles brothers, they backed out. Delayed and angry, the sheriff and his
crew took a tug back to St. Ignace where they found a boat and steamed
away in pursuit of the Tom Dowling, which McKenzie had learned
was headed to the Spanish River. After some determined sailing along the
Tom Downling’s expected route, they came upon the
tugboat that had been freed by another tug, the Pathfinder, which
was passing through the area.
According to the sheriff,
"We had a determined set of men and we intended to take the
property if we found it in American waters. We went prepared to enforce
our demands. But we found that the two barges containing all the sawmill
property…They had succeeded in getting clear of the ice and were then
anchored in the lee of an island about 15 miles from De Tour and in
Canadian waters." McKenzie added, "there were fifty men in
each boat and we understood they were prepared to give us a reception
with hot water." McKenzie learned that Jim Moiles was on board the Pathfinder
and wanted to meet with him. Moiles would have nothing to do with it.
McKenzie stated, "When he saw us, he called us all sorts of vile
names and taunted us with being beaten. He was fairly wild with joy. We
were unable to do anything with the stuff in Canadian waters, but if we
had run across them in American waters there would have been a fight and
we would have brought back that property at the cost of some of our
lives if necessary."
Captain E. B. Smith of the
Pathfinder told a different story to the Sault Ste. Marie News.
"If Sheriff McKenzie had said to me in American water what he did
in Canadian, I’d make him sweat for it." He claimed, "I
happened along just as the Moileses need a tug badly. I didn’t know
anything about the circumstances and wouldn’t have done otherwise if I
did for it was a straight business matter with me. I passed them a line,
towed them into Canadian waters and for it they gave me $200 and all my
oil and fuel while engaged." Smith then cast a doubt on the sheriff’s
story, "McKenzie, I suppose, is a nice fellow. But not
understanding my position exactly, he flew mad and called me a thief
with a lot of ornaments. His story was the greatest bluff on record. The
Moilses only had twenty-five great Swedes and a single determined
officer could have captured the whole gang. They wouldn’t have killed
anybody."
McKenzie and his party
headed back to St. Ignace. Later, he was criticized for this quick
withdrawal. As soon as the sheriff left, the Moilses crept back into
American waters and found an alternate route to the Spanish River.
By mid-April the Moiles
brothers began work on a new sawmill at John’s Island, near the mouth
of the Spanish River. The mill was operational the following spring but
soon closed. Eventually the sawmill was sold and the new owners ran it
for many years. A small village appeared on the island to house the
workers, but it, along with the mill, burned in 1918.
According to Moiles’
family lore, the brothers repaid the entire Hurd and Hanenstein loan.
Today, all that remains of the Moils’ Canadian sawmill is underwater
remains of the mill’s dock.
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Victor Moiles, the
grandson of John Moiles, is a retired Shaiwassee County sheriff. Charles
Bump, a retired clinical microbiologist, lives in Owosso.
The Great Sawmill
Heist" appeared in the January/February 2001 issue of Michigan
History. |
