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The Substance of the Land: Agriculture v. Industry is the Smelter Cases of 1904 and 1906
Utah Historical Quarterly
Vol. 53, 1985, No. 4
The Substance of the Land: Agriculture v. Industry in the Smelter Cases of 1904 and 1906
BY JOHN E. LAMBORN AND CHARLES S. PETERSON
THE TURN-OF-THE-CENTURY YEARS were an exciting and challenging time for Utah. Statehood had been achieved. The prospects looked almost limitless. Among other things, the economy was shifting from self-sufficiency to industry and commerce. Yet the period's changes were not unmixed blessings as older elements of society found it necessary to make important adjustments. Among no segment of society was this more apparent than to farmers of Salt Lake and adjoining counties. On the one hand, they found profit in product specialization, improved access to national markets, expanded local markets, federally funded reclamation projects, and the applications of scientific agriculture. On the other hand, they confronted formidable problems arising from aspects of industry and commerce with which farming was incompatible. For many Salt Lake Valley farmers mining and smelting proved to be particularly threatening. Involving progress, tradition, and the various side effects of mineral production, the confrontations that ensued were surprisingly modern in character. At stake were such diverse considerations as job opportunities, enhanced payrolls, air and water pollutants, despoiled land, radically altered farming strategies, and various changes in life-style. In this early period of Utah's industrial revolution the by-products of change were largely unanticipated. But expected or not they touched the lives of individuals, brought interest groups into being, and triggered a communitywide examination of values and interests. In the pages that follow a profile of the confrontation between farming and the smelting industry will be sketched. Elements in the outline presented here include earlier shifts on the part of Wasatch County farmers towards commercial agriculture and land speculation, problems with chemical poisons, a major section on air pollution growing from the increasing number of smelters, and the impact all these changes had upon farmers as viewed through the experience of one family.
First, it is important to have some sense of the significance of farming in the Wasatch Front counties. From 1880 on the five leading counties in almost all categories of Utah agriculture were spread along the Wasatch Front. In terms of farm population Salt Lake County was always the largest, with Utah, Weber, Davis, and Cache following. Often Salt Lake County was among the top overall producers of agricultural goods as well.
That this was so was due in part to the fact that adapting to change had been an integral part of the farm heritage in Salt Lake Valley. Initial efforts in agriculture succeeded only after pioneer farmers tailored their techniques to the demands of a semi-arid environment. In the more recent past, stability for the area's farm economy had been achieved through compromise and experimentation that enabled farmers to make the transition from the subsistence agriculture of the nineteenth century to the changing markets of national and local needs. Henry Wheeler, for example, expanded the enterprise of his farm southeast of Murray to include a farm flock of sheep, a dairy and milk delivery route, an ice distribution business, and orchard husbandry. Others took similar action, with the result that many of the most progressive farms in the state were found near Salt Lake City. As one contemporary described it, "Sugar beets, celery, vegetables of all kinds and fruits are raised in profusion, and there are numerous dairies, Salt Lake City affording a convenient and ready market for the products of farms, gardens and dairies." Farm women came and went from the city, trading butter and eggs. West side farm youngsters marketed geese and ducks shot in the sloughs and marshes of the North Point near the present international airport. Farmers from points as distant as Spanish Fork brought their hay to the city's hay markets or delivered directly to its carriage houses and livery stables. Davis County, too, served Salt Lake City's farmers' markets with an outpouring of truck crops and farm goods, while Ogden became a processing point for sugar, flour, and canned goods, allowing farmers there and farther north in Box Elder and Cache counties to enjoy the potentials — and the drawbacks — of national markets.
It is not clear when growing pains first adversely affected relations between the mines and smelters and Salt Lake Valley's farmers, but complaints during the 1880s about "nuisance" water in the Surplus Canal that ran into the Jordan River near the Great Salt Lake suggest that it may have been early indeed. By 1901, however, complaints became more specific, and problems appeared that engaged not only the attention of the mining corporations but the state's scientists. In December of that year, an unusual illness struck the cattle of two Layton farmers, E. P. Ellison and the partnership of Nalder and Sons. The malady was characterized by constipation, loss of appetite, moaning, and a tendency to push at barns and fences. Eventually, stricken animals left the herd, laid on their left sides, and showed signs of delirium before dying.
Both farmers ran progressive operations including the cultivation of sugar beets — the wonder crop of the age — and fed beet pulp from an Ogden sugar factory to their cattle. The afflicted animals had, in fact, been placed on beet pulp early in December and had been eating over fifty pounds per day when they were stricken. Professors John A. Widtsoe and Lewis A. Merrill of the Utah State Agricultural College, who were called in to diagnose the cause of death, declared it to be lead poisoning and singled out beet pulp as the likely offender. Further investigation confirmed that the pulp had been contaminated while being hauled in boxcars used previously to transport lead ore.
Almost immediately another incident of stock poisoning occurred at Rosette in Box Elder County. The Century Mining Company, which was located near Rosette, discharged water used in milling into a nearby stream. As a result, the contaminated water spread two or three miles onto open range. Twenty-one cattle died from drinking this water, the linings "of their throats and stomachs" "burnt black and practically eaten away." Chemical analysis showed that the water was "so highly charged with arsenic that an ordinary drink for man or beast would contain sufficient to kill."
These and similar poisonings no doubt contributed to the ill will of the farmers towards the mining companies. But it was the problem of air pollution created by smelters in Salt Lake County that brought agriculture and mining into a pitched battle.
The first smelter constructed in Utah for the reduction of copper ores was located eight miles south of Salt Lake City in Murray. Called the Highland Boy, it was financed with British capital through Utah Consolidated Gold Mines, Limited, under the leadership of Samuel Newhouse and Thomas Weir. The plant had a capacity of 250 tons of ore per day. Shortly before its completion in 1899, the company decided to add a lead smelter capable of handling 300 tons of ore daily. These two facilities were followed in 1900 by "a three-stack semipyritic" smelter of a 250-ton capacity, constructed at Midvale by the Bingham Consolidated Mining and Smelting Company, under the direction of Edward L. White, W. S. McCornick, and Duncan McVichie. It began operation at about the time Albert E. Holden's United States Mining Company was preparing a site on the Jordan River at Bingham Junction for its 1,000-ton capacity copper smelter.
Until 1903 these smelters operated with little apparent effect upon the neighboring farms. But early in the summer of that year a series of rain and wind storms spread smelter smut in a path of devastation that quickly became known as the "smoke belt." It extended from Murray to the limits of Salt Lake City. Along its route crops, livestock, orchards, and even the trees of Liberty Park were blighted.
The outcry of the farmers was bitter and loud. Any and all problems affecting crops, stock, or soil were caused by the smoke, they alleged, and they demanded an investigation of the situation. Certain that the farmers' complaints were greatly exaggerated, the smelter operators agreed to the need for a study. Both sides turned to the Agricultural College at Logan for settlement of the matter.
Beginning in June and continuing through the growing season, John A. Widtsoe directed a study of the affected area. His task was complicated by a number of factors. The capricious character of the pollution pattern made the survey of actual smoke damage difficult. Shifting wind patterns scattered the smoke, spokelike through various sections of the county. Rainfall while a dust cloud hung over an area was usually disastrous. Downdrafts while irrigation water stood in the fields also accentuated the smoke's detrimental effects. But the inconsistent manner in which both crops and livestock were actually harmed by the smoke made definite conclusions about the problem seem uncertain. Only one result was known for sure — continuing damage and the lack of factual information on the situation was promoting a widespread belief that farms for miles around the plants would have to be abandoned.
To allay these fears, Widtsoe's investigation sought to report the "extent, degree and nature of the damage" actually resulting from "the activity of the copper smelters" and to suggest ways for farmers to guard against such damage. In October the investigation reported its findings and recommendations. With regard to actual damages resulting from the smoke, they had reached the following cautious conclusions:
1. When the wind causes the smoke to beat upon a field for a considerable length of time, it tends to injure the crops severely, and thus to diminish their yields.
2. It tends to injure animals that are right in line of the prevailing winds and therefore are compelled to breathe the smelter smoke in the air.
3. It may occasionally poison pools of standing water, when the washing of rains and melting of snows cause a concentration of the flue dust in low lying places.
More optimistically, the report continued, smoke did not "injure the fertility of the soils nor materially affect the feeding value of crops grown in the area." Furthermore, Widtsoe suggested farmers could reduce the actual damage related to the smoke by taking some "practical," but as it proved not always easily applied, precautions:
1. Don't irrigate on days when wind blows the smelter smoke towards your farm. The injuries from the smoke are always greatest when the soil is wet.
2. Animals on pasture are likely to gather more flue dust than if barn fed. As far as possible, therefore, grow hay on the affected pastures.
3. Trees are weakened so much by being robbed of their leaves several times in one or several seasons that death usually follows. It is not advisable to plant orchards or trees of any kind in the districts affected by smelter smoke.
4. Annual crops are generally the safest in smelter districts.
5. Lucern, which is perennial, appears to withstand the effect of the smelter smoke very well, and is a safe crop for the smelter smoke.
6. Windbreaks of any kind, sheltering a farm from the direct action of the smoke, would do much to modify the injuries from the smelter smoke.
7. Don't ascribe all your misfortunes to the smelter smoke. Be reasonable in your claims, and then insist upon your rights.
Not surprisingly, very little in Widtsoe's report was appreciated by the farmers. As far as their most vocal representatives were concerned, there was only one "practical" solution to the problem — stop the smoke altogether! As a result, their confrontation with the smelter owners erupted into a bitter feud pitting the county's agricultural interests against its mining industries, or in effect, into a contest between its nineteenth-century heritage and its twentiethcentury aspirations.
The potential for serious financial loss should either side triumph completely over the other was obvious. Both agriculture and industry were important factors in Salt Lake County's economic well-being. The county was, in fact, Utah's leading county in mineral production and housed well over half of the state's manufacturing establishments. On the other hand, it was home to more farmers than any other county in the state and was by almost all indexes one of the most important agricultural counties in Utah. Ideally, "agriculture and mining, the two great industries of the region," should have been mutually beneficial. As Widtsoe pointed out in a major position paper dealing with the problem:
By the same token, Widtsoe continued, "the interests of all phases of the mining industry were furthered by the proximity of prosperous agricultural communities."
Widtsoe's effort to calm the troubled issue notwithstanding, the farmers' protests against the smelters had become a frequent and commanding news item by the latter part of 1904 as damage continued. As the protests grew, pulling more and more people into the row, so grew the fear that the battle would culminate in the closure of the plants. Mediation was called for, and the Deseret News acted to amplify that call. "There is no denial of the fact," its editor wrote in the August 30 issue,
Therefore, the News suggested a meeting of the feuding sides to arrange an amenable solution to the dilemma.
In fact, just such a meeting had been arranged by farmers from Granger, Murray, Taylorsville, Sandy, and other affected areas. It was scheduled for September 9 in Murray. To pay its expenses, "a tax was levied on each land holder at ten cents per acre." The meeting's purpose was to "try by peaceable measure to effect an understanding with the smelters." The farmers hoped in this way to convince the industry to make an all-out effort to solve the smoke problem by making adjustments in the operations of the plants. However, the hope of both the News and the farmers that such a meeting would terminate the feud was short-lived. While some of the smelter managers "treated the farmers' petition respectfully, . . . others felt that it was none of the farmers affair what the smelters proposed to do." The farmers were determined to make it their affair.
In fact, the animosity had become so great that the optimism of the News began to sag. Shifting its position somewhat, the newspaper became an apologist for the feud: "TheNews has, all along, advanced and maintained the opinion that the wrong can be remedied if not entirely removed," they editorialized. "We have demanded action in that direction. . . . We have suggested friendly conference of the parties. . . . We have advised conciliation." All for naught. The farmers continued to complain that the smelters were uncooperative and a threat to their lives, their homes, and their property. The smelter managers insisted that they were doing everything possible to see the matter properly settled and that the farmers were being unrealistic in their demands. It was a sad state of affairs. The News appealed to both sides for arbitration. "Let the contending parties, or their chosen representatives, come together in the spirit of fairness," they advised. "Let each recognize the other's rights and let no resort to force of any kind be had until the very last extremity is reached."
For the farmers that extremity was fast approaching. Tired of delay, they looked for an appropriate forum from which to air the merits of the case. On December 12 a petition signed by 800 men protesting the smelter smoke was presented to the county commissioners. The following day another petition, this time "signed by almost twice as many people," was delivered to the State Board of Health. Both requested an "investigation on [the board's] part, under the statutes requiring it to investigate reported unsanitary and unhealthful conditions."
The farmers next sought the assistance of the Salt Lake County Board of Health. On February 8, 1905, representatives for the farmers and the smelters met in a courtroom at the Salt Lake City and County Building. Representing the county at the meeting were Commissioners J. C. Mackay, W. W. Wilson, and E. D. Miller; county physician E. W. Whitney; Dr. Straup, health officer at Bingham; Dr. W. E. Ferrebee, health officer at Murray; and Dr. Robertson, health officer at Sandy. The farmers were represented by O. P. Miller of Mill Creek, chairman; M. E. Lee of Murray; Joseph W. Carlise of Mill Creek; Henry Burton of Farmers Ward; W. H. Hague of Taylorsville; Mahroni Spencer of Taylorsville; and James Godfrey of South Cottonwood. For the smelter operators, there appeared attorneys W. H. Bradley, R. H. Channing, and C. W. Whitney. The farmers asked "that the smoke be declared a public nuisance and that steps be taken to abate it." The smelter operators asked for more time.
According to the account of the hearing presented in the News, the farmers introduced "some very convincing evidence of the damage done by the poisonous fumes from the smelters." Their position was stated to the board by O. P. Miller:
The attorney for the smelter managers countered that "if this question could have been solved in a few days or weeks it would have been done long ago." As it was, it was a complex matter needing investigation. Such an investigation had in fact been made. The conclusion was that "the smoke nuisance could be overcome" — eventually. Indeed, the operators were planning the construction of a plant costing some $ 150,000 specifically for that purpose. But, they were quick to add, they needed more time.
More time was the one thing the farmers did not favor. Indeed they wanted immediate action. As Miller put it, "The present laws are adequate to give us relief, if the board will act on the matter." As he and his fellow farmers saw the matter, it had three alternatives. "One is to control the smoke; another is to close the smelters; the third is to abandon the homes in the acreage lying within the affected district and turn the country over to the smelters intact." As for the farmers, they wanted "the court to order the smelters to close until such time as they can open with the problem solved and their poisoned fumes so contained that they do not lay waste the homes of the inhabitants throughout the valley."
Such a direct challenge alienated many county residents who had heretofore sympathized with the farmers. Realizing the damage the farmers' suits could do to the economy, many began to protest that the farmers had gone too far. As an advocate of the farmers, the News, found itself the focus of growing abuse. In response it reduced the feud to a pat case of "Right" v. "The Moneyed Interests."
The News continued to champion the farmers. In spite of the wealth associated with the smelters, it reminded people that "the loss to the entire state, should this part of the county become unfit for agriculture, could scarcely be estimated." Thus supported, the farmers were not to be swayed from their objective by the criticism of others. The matter finally came before the federal courts in the early part of 1905.
The first case to be heard by the court was Daniel McCleery et al. v. United Consolidated Mining Company. Presiding was District Court Judge John A. Marshall. The objective of the complaint was to have the court "enjoin continuation of the smelting operations."
In their arguments the farmers claimed that "the fumes and dust expelled from the defendant's smelter (The Highland Boy) fell to some extent upon the land of the complainants and inflicted substantial damage." It was asserted that
Judge Marshall responded with his decision on September 5. To the attorney for the smelter operators, he pointed out that "the right of complainants to protection in equity by injunction is not affected by the fact that defendant has large capital invested in its business, while the value of the complainants' is comparatively small." To the farmers he explained that though they were "entitled to protection in equity," their delay in asking for an injunction would hinder its application. Furthermore, he was not convinced that the amount of the damages claimed against the Highland Boy was fully justified. "Evidence tended to show," he stated, "that the Highland Boy Smelter is not alone responsible for damage done farms and crops of the complainants." The damage was, in fact, the result of the operation of several smelting plants. Therefore, he determined to "arbitrarily reach a conclusion and assess the defendant company with what he considered to be its fair proportion of compensation." If the company took exception to this decision, they had option to "decline to comply," in which case the court would immediately "issue an injunction."
Though the McCleery decision was clearly in favor of the farmers, it was a subsequent court case that brought a decisive action against the smelters: James Godfrey et al. v. American Smelting and Refining Company, et al. Again the presiding magistrate was Judge Marshall, and again the farmers were seeking an injunction against the smelters' operation. But the magnitude of this case was considerably greater. Involved were 419 farmers and not one, but five, of the valley's smelting firms: the American Smelting and Refining Company; the Utah Consolidated Smelting Company; the United States Smelting, Refining and Mining Company; and the Bingham Copper and Gold Mining Company. In this instance, the verdict handed down by the court was more than a victory for the farmers, it was a decision of "sweeping significance to the mining and smelting industry."
Reporting on Judge Marshall's ruling, the Salt Lake Tribune said that the outcome had "caused a decided shock in smelting circles" and that the case would thereafter "provide food for thought in the smelting industry throughout the county." In his decision, Judge Marshall gave the farmers what they had previously been denied. Each of the plants involved was thereafter prohibited "from smelting ores carrying ten percent or more sulphur content at their present locations." The injunction was placed into effect thirty days from the date of the decree, allowing the defendents time to appeal. The court then left it to the smelter operators to either clean up their plants or have them permanently enjoined.
With the exception of the American Smelting and Refining Company, which traded a $60,000 compensation to the farmers for a "modification of the decree permitting continued operations in Murray," the smelter owners opted for permanent enjoinment. The Highland Boy was closed in January 1908, and Utah Consolidated "transferred its ore to the plant of the International Smelting and Refining Company in Tooele. . . . Bingham Consolidated closed its Bingham Smelter in 1907. . . . The United States Mining Company closed its Midvale Smelter in 1908." The boom of Salt Lake County's sulfide copper smelting industry was ended.
With this victory the farmers received an angry backlash from the communities in which the smelters operated. Facing possible economic ruin, "it began to dawn on many in the affected communities . . . that the smoke nuisance had its advantages as well as disadvantages, and that the permanent removal of the plants would stop their source of revenue."
Voicing this anger, the Salt Lake Tribune ran a taunting feature, comparing the farmers to "the fabled gent who killed the goose that laid the golden eggs." Entitled "The Smelter Goose," the piece read:
It was apparent to most that the farmers were not the greedcrazed criminals, nor the smelters the unfortunate goose that the Tribune portrayed. To accusations that the farmers had "collected damages greater than the actual value of the crops" and then proceeded to sell the "portion of the crop saved as well" came the response that no farmer had "received a dollar . . . but after a fair and honest trial of his case." And as for the smelters — they had met a reverse, but they were far from calling it quits as the great day for the Utah copper industry still lay in the future.
Early in 1907 the smelter operators appealed the decision to the circuit court. When that court rendered a decision sustaining the previous verdict, smelter managers made preparations to restructure their operations in compliance with the court order or to relocate their facilities in the western part of Salt Lake County, near Garfield and Magna. Farmers had won a victory, but for years smoke continued to be a special problem for Salt Lake Valley agriculture. From time to time farmers complained, special commissions studied the problem, and companies made adjustments. Tensions cropped up again and again, but in the main farmers and industrialists alike lived with the problem. In the long run there can be no doubt that agriculture fought a rear guard action in Salt Lake and most of its neighboring Wasatch Front counties as industry and other urban influences continued to grow.
Suggestive of the nature of the smelter smoke problems as well as the impact of the larger changes Salt Lake Valley farmers faced in the process of making the transition from the old order of subsistence farming to commercial agriculture in an increasingly industrialized world was the case of Harold Wagstaff and his father. A long-time resident of a farming district in southeast Salt Lake City called Farmers Ward, the elder Wagstaff had raised a large part of his family during the turn-of-the-century decades on a fifteen-acre farm. On this small piece of ground farming was an intensive but stable process with the family raising much of what they ate and lived on. The Wagstaffs tried to enhance their income by raising stock carrots for sale to the owners of horses and cows in the city. Carrots were planted in rows fourteen inches apart, tended carefully by growing children, harvested, and stored in pits on the farm. Living only three or four miles from town, the elder Wagstaff made regular deliveries to customers throughout the city, thus adding a small cash income to produce consumed by the family.
After many years real estate developments seemed to favor Wagstaff, and his land rose in value, making it possible in about 1915 to trade it for a fifty-six-acre farm on 54th South in Murray, a block and a half from one of the valley's major smelters. Unaware of smoke problems when he took possession of his new place, Wagstaff learned quickly and to his sorrow. As his son recalled: "The smelter was poison, that's all. Alfalfa a foot high would be swept by lead and arsenic like it had been frozen." Cows and horses died. The smelter provided a small windfall when it offered $10 per tree if he would remove damning evidence by chopping down his orchard. Even worse, neighbors, particularly those who worked in the smelter, showed the adverse effects of poisoning. Men who fired the furnaces were permanently pockmarked by hot ash flying in their face and damaging their skins. Others were "leaded" and retired sick and worn men at forty, or in some cases they died. The damage was restricted to a fairly limited area around the smelters but was in the experience of the Wagstaff family a definite problem for all who lived within the smoke's reach.
As in the case of other farmers in the smoke belts, smelter pollutants tended to usher the Wagstaffs into the technological age at an accelerated pace. In many respects their experience represented the most tension-ridden point of contact between old ways and new. The life of the Wagstaffs is instructive at a number of points. On the small Farmers Ward place they survived by feeding themselves and selling produce to people who lived in the city and worked at industrial urban pursuits. In time city growth resulted in a rise in value on the Farmers Ward place. Cheaper land was found and purchased. Ironically, the new Murray place was not cheap because it was undeveloped, but because it lay adjacent to an industrial plant that injured its productive capacity. To offset this challenge the elder Wagstaff found employment one winter at the smelter, turning from the land for the only time in his entire life. Immediately the twelve hour days in close proximity to the plant told on him. Fortunately he worked with a son who bore much of the brunt of a job at which they worked together.
Even more important, perhaps, in the context of this article is the fact that while the older man stayed with the land, accepting such as it could give — work for his children, city markets, land increments, poison fumes and all — the younger man, like many others of his generation, found no direct opportunity upon the land, although indirectly it apparently served him well. Even as he worked alongside his ailing father, Harold Wagstaff was moving into a succession of jobs at nurseries, laundries, stockyards, and about the city. School and professions were beyond his reach. Odd jobs, occasional periods of unemployment and imaginative exploitation of needs he saw around him enabled him to make a good living. While at the nurseries he hit on the idea of hauling topsoil to people landscaping city lots. From that it was a short step to hauling fertilizer from the North Salt Lake Stockyards on his way to his home in the Holladay suburb each evening. Similarly, an odd dollar could be turned by exploiting opportunities that grew from the restaurants to which he made laundry deliveries. From them he gathered slop for up to 240 head of hogs kept under partnership arrangements on the farms of several friends.
In his old age Harold Wagstaff remained convinced that the experience of these years added up to a good life. But in hearing his experience one is aware of its insecurity, of its hand-to-mouth quality, and most of all of its distance from the stable routines of his father's life. One is also aware that the routine stability of the fully developed industrial society backed by a welfare state that has existed since World War II had not yet provided defenses against mishap and individual responsibility.
Thus it is apparent that change had been not only an important aspect of farm life in turn-of-the-century Salt Lake Valley but that it was accompanied by friction and insecurity at both the individual and group levels. Agriculture was still important, if not actually basic to the area's economy and life-style. It made significant advances and continued to represent a viable and important element in the cultural mix of the county. But changes that ensued involved revolutionary shifts. Even adjustments that sought to stave off disaster for farmers contributed in the long run to agriculture's diminishing role in Salt Lake County. Although Harold Wagstaff and his peers were in a poor place to understand it, any attempt to interpret the era must be cognizant of shifts in the balance between agriculture and other industries and of change's long-lasting impact. Interpretation must look for those manifestations that, like the life of Harold Wagstaff and the smelter smoke controversy generally, tell emphatically of the tensions that accompanied change.
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