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By Erik Hare

The fall color is just beginning to dapple the Mississippi Valley here in Saint Paul. For us, it’s a last chance to get out and enjoy mild weather before the death-defying cold swirls around us. But for the people who made our city, it was a sign of the world closing in on their little pioneer village.

When the Civil War broke out in 1861, Saint Paul had been settled for at least 30 years. This was the Territorial Capital from 1849 on, and been anointed the State Capitol in 1858. An amazing 10,000 people made this their home, and all the modern conveniences like theaters and stores were available. It wasn’t the frontier any longer.

Still, Saint Paul was tied to the rest of America completely and totally by the Mississippi River – railroads were a decade away. The arrival of winter meant that there would be no more supplies coming into town for at least 4 months. Fall color would have been greeted by these pioneers the way we treat a yellow traffic light – on last chance to speed through as fast as you have to. They would have been scrambling to stock up enough for winter, get their house ready, and many other busy things.

Worse yet, there was no mail from the outside world once the Mississippi froze over. When so many young men went off to war, the understanding that you might have to wait until April to hear anything from them must have become unbearable. Every last steamboat that arrived this time of year was greeted with increasing desperation – is there any news? It may be the last for a while.

The importance of the Mississippi at this time cannot be over stated. Where Mears Park stands today was a hill known as “Baptist Hill” for the Baptist Church on the north side of it (Temperance Street ran north from the church). On top of this hill there was a lookout, and a cannon. The sight of a steamboat rounding the big bend by Dayton’s Bluff would be saluted by a cannon round from Baptist Hill, and so the whole town knew to go down to the landing if they were looking for news.

The first chill of the year ran a lot colder when there was nothing better than wool between you and an Alberta Clipper. The lack of central heat meant that once you were chilled, it was difficult to warm up. Yet all of these hardships could be fought by strong and brave pioneers. What had to be more difficult was knowing that the cannon on Baptist Hill was about to fall silent for an entire season, and your loved ones who were off to bravely fight for the Union that Minnesota had only recently joined were completely on their own. And so was Saint Paul.

When we look at the Mississippi today, it’s easy to take it for granted. We’re usually just happy that it’s finally cleaning up after years of industrial abuse. But to the people that build our town, the Mississippi was everything. It brought them food and finery, and most important of all it connected them from the rest of the world. Autumn leaves in the Valley are beautiful, but there was a time that they were a warning as well.