Peering at the Past Robbers Roost and the Brainless Bravado of Wildcat Jack

Part two of a two-part series

As commercial traffic on the Mississippi River followed settlement north into Iowa, Wisconsin and Minnesota, thieves were attracted as well as honest merchants. A band of river pirates, thought to consist of 10 to 12 men, operated out of the southeast corner of Houston County. Their base, known as Robbers Roost, was located in Minnesota Slough, a backwater a mile-and-a-half into an almost uninhabited portion of Minnesota with several convenient accesses into the main channel of the Mississippi River, which was the interstate highway of the 1860s. In addition to its seclusion, the slough was large enough for travel in a small steamboat, which designed to navigate on tributaries of larger rivers, was a common vehicle for waterway transportation – and piracy. 

And this slough was also conveniently located across the state line from McGregor, Iowa, where a band of pirates had caused an uproar that ended with the thieves being apprehended.

Considering the timing, the Robbers Roost crew, which might have included someone involved with the McGregor guys, seemed to have been organized about four years after the demise of the McGregor group. Was it then about time for thievery on the river to resume?

However, the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861 probably presented a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity too advantageous to turn down for those with theft in mind. There was an enthusiastic, patriotic response in the upper midwest to enlist as soldiers to put down the rebellion. Most were farmers, who after the fall harvest was completed, were willing to join the Union war effort. The fighting, which lasted for four long, agonizing years, was at first expected to last only a short period of time.

However, when combat continued into 1862 and farmer-soldiers were not able to return home for spring planting, the farm work was left to their families – wives and children. 

This Robbers Roost criminals, like other pirates, did prey on commercial steamers transporting supplies and produce. However, in addition to those usual targets of piracy, these especially despicable Robbers Roost thieves also preyed on waterside farmsteads, while so many menfolk were away at war. This stalking “created a new low in thievery and could not be tolerated,” according to county historian David Klinski.

Although they worked both sides of the river, it was likely that most of that farmstead thievery occurred on the Wisconsin side. The population was greater than that of Minnesota at the time, and there were far more Union Army units from Wisconsin. And as Klinski noted, “it was unwise to arouse the locals (Minnesota residents) to a point where they would interfere with your business.” 

So, it was not surprising that when officials raided the Roost, it was probably organized by Wisconsin authorities. The final account of this criminal crew said some were shot, others drowned and some provided accommodations at the Wisconsin State Prison. Although Minnesota also had a state prison (at Stillwater) none of these Houston County evil-doers were housed there. 

After those residing at Robbers Roost were either dead or incarcerated, there was still piracy on the river. Primary targets were log rafts, masses of logs floated down the Chippewa, Wisconsin and Black Rivers to sawmills at La Crosse and Winona. The owners of logs had their brand or mark on the butt ends of logs. A lumber thief would saw off the end of the log and then burn in his own brand. If instead a mark was cut into the bark, it could be sufficiently defaced until unrecognizable.

One fearless albeit ill-tempered lifter of lumber was William Morrison, known as Wildcat Jack, whose alias survives at Wildcat Landing County Park near Brownsville. His physical strength suited him well for being a logger and rafter, noted Klinski who also wrote, “His personality and disposition gave him the reputation of being a plug-ugly thug.”

Wildcat was daring enough (and/or stupid enough) to steal a raft of logs belonging to Peter Cameron of La Crosse, one the most prominent men in the trade, and then floated those logs downriver to a mill farther south.

When hearing that Job Brown, namesake of Brownsville, had implicated him in the crime, Wildcat sought revenge. Arriving in Brownsville, he paraded around wielding a pepperbox pistol with five barrels loaded and one empty. He repeatedly snapped the hammer on the empty barrel as if to indicate the firearm was empty.

When he arrived at Brown’s home, Job was offering an explanation when Wildcat put the pistol to his own head and fired what he thought to be the empty barrel. But the barrels had somehow rotated before his planned “theatrics” as termed by Klinski who then related that Wildcat Jack left the world with far fewer brains than when he entered as William Morrison.

If Wildcat’s “brainless” bravado had not concluded the confrontation as it conveniently did, Job’s brother Charles, from his house, had a large pistol aimed at Wildcat’s back in preparation for fraternal intervention if necessary.

Klinski wrote, “Most river pirates never lived long enough to enjoy any of their ill-gotten gains.” But they had a noteworthy place in our history. Their presence was sufficiently prevalent that upstanding sawmill operators asked for but received little help from the federal government in combatting the problem. Therefore, lumber piracy continued as long as did the commerce – until the timber in northern Wisconsin was exhausted.

Source: “Robbers Roost” by David Klinski, originally published in a 2001 newsletter of the Houston County Historical Society and republished in the book, Caledonia Pride 1854-2004