Caro – A History of the Nation’s Oldest Surviving Sugarbeet Factory

Michigan’s lumber industry and the 19th century drew to a close together. Lumber barons had swept through the state like a hurricane, much as they had done in New England and New York, carting away the world’s last great stand of white pine forests. In their wake lay dying towns, hundreds of miles of combustible debris, erosion-made swampland and wonderment on the part of those left behind that they had traded their heritage for a handful of bright coins. Lumber towns across the state, one of them, Caro, named for some inexplicable reason after Cairo, Egypt, faced extinction.

If a town was to have an even chance of finding a place in the 20th century then it needed an industry. Town mayors and other leaders across the state cast about for one. In Caro, talk about sugarbeets had drifted from Bay County where an entrepreneur named Thomas Cranage constructed a sugar factory in Essexville, a suburb of Bay City, another lumber town searching for an economic foothold to replace lumber. The results of Cranage’s experiment sparked enthusiasm that quickly replaced the gloom that had settled into the hearts and minds of the leaders of faltering lumber communities.

Cranage traveled to Nebraska, Utah, New Mexico, and California where he witnessed the process and talked to the technicians and then hired them. He then created Michigan Sugar Company and, avoiding the mistake of many entrepreneurs, saw that it had adequate capital to survive the disappointments that so often accompany new ventures.

Michigan Sugar Company benefited not only from good planning but from good weather. The first sugarbeet harvest and processing season (called a “campaign” in the parlance of the beet sugar industry) in the state’s history was, by every account, a remarkable success. Farmers harvested an average of 10.3 tons from each of 3,103 acres for a total of 32,047 tons of sugarbeets. The sugar content of the beets averaged 12.93 percent with a purity of eighty-two percent from which the factory extracted 5,685,552 pounds of sugar. A sugar content of 12.93 percent meant each purchased ton of beets contained 258.6 pounds of sugar. From that, the new sugar factory packaged 169 pounds, which equated to total sugar recovery of sixty-nine percent, an excellent result for a first campaign.

Principal among leaders in Caro, the center of business activity for Tuscola County, was Charles Montague. The town waited to learn what Mr. Montague thought of the sugar talk.

Montague was fifty-two years old when Michigan began to open its eyes to the prospects of sugar. He had already achieved success in many fields including banking, farming, lumber milling, merchandising and manufacturing. In addition to owning and operating the town’s hotel, he operated the local telephone system and electric lighting company.

If a sugar factory was going to be built in a town, it needed a prominent citizen to get on board, someone’s whose participation would create a groundswell of enthusiasm – enough to shake dollars loose from hidden places – enough to cause farmers to favorably consider raising beets that could make townsmen rich. As it would turn out, Caro was one of the few Michigan communities that did not need to generate investment from within the community. In Detroit, ninety miles to south, eager investors searched for ripe opportunities and closer to home in the nearby town of Vassar, lived a man whose roving eye never ceased to search for opportunity.

Richard Hoodless lived in comfort in Vasser, a small city named after Mathew Vassar, the founder of Vassar University. He had for many years traveled Europe’s roads as a buyer of agricultural products for an English concern. He saw his first beet fields in Germany twenty years earlier, saw prosperous factories perched near towns, factories that hired laborers, purchased supplies and paid taxes to local governments and generally caused a rising tide of sustained prosperity in which no citizen directly or indirectly was denied a chance to dip into the treasure-trove formed out of beet fields.

Hoodless looked for ways to duplicate the success of Germany’s farmers. As luck would have it, an advertisement appeared in a Chicago newspaper, placed by August Maritzen, a youthful architect, recently married, who had taken time out from his honeymoon to promote business for a manufacturer in Germany whose name could be pronounced by most Americans only if they first filled their mouths with marbles. It was A. Wernicke Maschinenbau Aktiengesellschaft of Halle, Germany. Hoodless replied to the advertisement and in return, Maritzen offered the significant sum of $4,000 (more than $80,000 in modern dollars) if Hoodless could generate enough interest to establish a factory in Caro.

On one hand, Hoodless had in Charles Montague, a man of wealth who dearly loved both opportunity and technology as evidenced by his control of the local telephone and lighting companies, new shining hallmarks of late 19th century technology, and on the other, in Wernicke, an experienced factory builder eager to construct a factory in the United States. For help, he turned to two friends, Fred Wheat linked to the Montagues by marriage for many years, and John Wilsey. Wheat was a lawyer whose wife was Maria Montague, a sister of Charles Montague.

Hoodless then assembled a citizens committee that became the predecessor to the Caro Sugar Company. A member of the committee, Fred Slocum, also served as editor of the Tuscola County Advertiser and helped promote the idea in his news columns. Farmers in Caro’s neighborhood, aware of the great excitement occasioned by the Essexville experiment signed on as did Charles Montague and his associate, banker John Seeley who had earned his spurs in coal mining. He served as the vice-president of the Sebewaing Coal Company; an organization headed by Spencer O. Fisher who also was involved in Essexville’s Michigan Sugar Company and would later become president of the West Bay City Sugar Company.

Once Montague picked up the ball, he ran for the end zone without considering competitive quotes for factory construction. Indeed, it was Wernicke representative, Max Schroeder who joined Montague and Seeley on an excursion to Detroit on a January evening in 1899. The night was blistering cold; the deal in the making was hot. The great fear was that some other town would beat Caro to the punch, drawing investment dollars away from Tuscola County. Time was of the essence.

For one week, the town held its breath as the trio met with important financiers in Detroit. Daniel Gutleben, in his The Sugar Tramp-1954 reported the receipt of a telegram by the organizing committee at Caro announcing that investment capitalists had invested in the factory and had awarded Wernicke the contract for its construction. Pandemonium “reigned supreme” according to the Tuscola County Advertiser. Seeley arrived alone on Tuesday’s evening train with a story to tell, one that lives yet in Caro’s memory, passed down by each succeeding generation and recorded in Daniel Gutleben’s chronicles. It is a story that reveals how Charles Montague persuaded some big city wheelers and dealers into investing heavily in Michigan’s second beet sugar factory.

No one questioned Wernicke’s ability to build a factory four thousand miles from its base in a foreign country where the language, customs and economic conditions differed significantly from the home country. There was no one on the board of directors who possessed any experience whatsoever with beet sugar factories nor did the board foresee a need to engage corporate officers possessed of such experience. After all, Wernicke was the sugar expert, claiming more than 200 projects, including one just completed in Australia. It also did not matter because Wernicke, with enthusiasm running amuck, signed a contract guaranteeing the new factory would slice 500 tons of beets each day for a least thirty successive days at a cost of three cents per pound for sugar currently selling in Chicago for six cents per pound, retail.

That a new factory, even one built by someone lacking the disadvantages of building a factory in a foreign land, could operate at 500 tons per day during its maiden voyage was unheard of. Inevitable construction problems always created delays; fine-tuning would deter full slicing capability for weeks, sometimes months. Added to the mix were factory crews more accustomed to walking behind plows or knocking down trees with axes than operating boilers, engines, diffusers, vacuum pans, and evaporators all in perfect harmony. A year earlier, the Essexville factory builders had missed its guarantee to produce sugar for three and one-half cents per pound by fifteen cents and paid for it with a costly out of court settlement, a fact either unknown by Wernicke or dismissed in a moment of unwarranted confidence. Further, Wernicke agreed to finance $300,000 of the estimated $400,000 construction cost.

For Caro and its Detroit investors, it was too good a deal to pass up. It got better as time went on. The village council, as an added inducement, purchased 100 acres of land in two parcels, one of which belonged to Charles Montague, and gifted it to the factory owners, one of whom was Montague. The Caro Water Company sweetened the deal when it offered, free of charge, up to 500,000 gallons of spring water daily.

Thus did Caro, as a result of Montague’s energy and Hoodless’s ambition and the will of a town that would not be left behind, find itself the beneficiary of a factory largely paid for by outside investors. Foregoing the original name, The Caro Sugar Company, the organizers formed the Peninsular Sugar Refining Company on January 30, 1899 with 30,000 shares with a par value of $10. By August of the same year, the capitalization jumped to $500,000 and jumped again in February 1902 when it climbed to $750,000. Its final increment occurred in September 1902 when it advanced to an even one million dollars – 100,000 shares at $10.00 par value.

The moneymen included Detroit industrialists Charles Bewick who a few years later invested in the East Tawas sugar factory and Henry B. Joy, who in 1905 became president of the Packard Motor Car Company. Joy and members of his family invested in a number of Michigan’s sugar factories, including those at Alma, Croswell, and Bay City. His brother-in-law and a co-founder of the Packard Motor Car Company, Truman Newberry, invested in Caro, as well, and along with Joy, became one of the company directors. Newberry would in 1918 catch fleeting fame as the successful bidder for a U.S. Senate seat for Michigan, defeating Henry Ford, another magnate who sought the same post. (Newberry fame lasted longer in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula where they named a town Newberry to commemorate his father’s thoughtfulness in chopping down all the hardwoods he could find and turning them into charcoal.)

David Cady and Gilbert Lee, owners of a large wholesale food distributorship in Detroit, controlled between them, nearly five thousand shares. Gilbert Lee moved into the president’s chair while Henry Joy settled for a vice-presidency.

Within a few years the Sugar Trust came to town and everything changed. The American Sugar Refining Company referred to everywhere in newspapers as the Sugar Trust, moved into Michigan in 1901 and 1902 and began absorbing beet sugar factories at a rapid pace. Gone now was Charles Montague whose energy and drive assembled the parts that made the company. Gone, too, was John Seeley, his friend and partner. Richard Hoodless, who started it all, never made it to the stockholder list.

By 1903, the shareholder’s list reflected some of the top names in the Sugar Trust. Chief among them was Charles B. Warren, legal counsel to the American Sugar Refining Company, whose 22,001 shares topped the 1904 shareholder list. The second ranking shareholder was Thomas B. Washington of Boston, Massachusetts, a director of the American Sugar Refining Company who held 15,667 shares. He would rise to the presidency of the Sugar Trust four years later upon the death of Henry O. Havemeyer, its founder. Third was Lowell Palmer, an executive with the American Sugar Refining Company who held 10,126 shares. Together, the three controlled 48% of the Peninsular Sugar Refining Company. An interesting feature of the shareholder list was the absence of the names of Caro residents except for a few latter day residents, employees of the sugar factory.

The American Sugar Refining Company, vilified in the daily press for its monopolistic tendencies and harried in federal courtrooms for perceived violations of the Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890, was held in high regard by its 13,000 shareholders who enjoyed a steady stream of dividends, 12% per annum since 1894. An under-appreciated aspect of the Sugar Trust was that it demanded that companies under its jurisdiction produce products of high quality at low cost and to that end provided expert advisors who traveled from factory to factory dispensing technical information, overseeing training and staffing, and inspecting the facilities.

But in 1899, the village of Caro’s interest lay, not in the realm of high finance or corporate philosophy but in the hundreds of workers in need of boarding, food, and clothing and other necessities and luxuries that caused cash registers to ring all about the town. Men, money, equipment, and building materials poured into the hamlet. Forty-eight carloads of equipment plus six million bricks and one thousand cords of stone arrived in rapid succession. Three hundred workers, including bricklayers who earned fifty-cents an hour compared to fifteen cents for common laborers and five cents for apprentice electricians, created a buzz of activity that began when the snow melted in April and ended October 23 when Superintendent Georg Bartsch, a noted expert in sugar manufacturing with special acclaim won for expertise in crystallization and vacuum pan operation, declared the factory ready for operations.

Performance guarantees for new beet sugar factories plagued those who dared to issue them-and would soon plague Wernicke. The factory as described by Gutleben, while eschewing some American preferences in terms of materials, nevertheless represented the foremost in factory design. It possessed four quadruple effect evaporators made of wrought iron, supplying a combined 8,911 square feet of heating surface, two pans each 9-1/2 feet in diameter x 13 feet high containing 753 square feet of heating surface, and centrifugals that used steam jets for the final washing of the sugar. Six 700 cubic-foot spray-cooled vacuum-filled crystallizers installed on the pan floor expedited cooling, a modern feature that improved throughput. Nine water-tube boilers fitted with mechanical stokers provided an adequate supply of steam. A concrete floor, a luxury according to Michigan factory standards of the day, separated the factory from the mud and clay that lay beneath.

Two significant differences between a factory of American design and one of German design caused some immediate rancor. The first was that American management style called for superintendents who inspired the invention of the phrase, “manage on your feet, not on your seat” while the German method called for a field marshal who commanded from afar, sending lieutenants forward to collect information and to dispense managerial wisdom and dictates.

In addition, the European method of management called for much secrecy between management and the managed and in addition, technicians reserved their knowledge to themselves, sharing what they knew only with sons or those who paid handsomely for instruction. The departmentalized factory fit the European management style perfectly. For that reason, the Caro factory consisted of a number of separate rooms, or departments, the effect of which encumbered communication and increased the number of laborers required to operate the factory. Messengers scurried between rooms delivering orders and information, not always as timely as circumstances required. The arrangement, in later years, would make it difficult to expand the factory; expansion of one area generally occurred at the expense of another. Kilby-built factories, those constructed by Joseph Kilby of Cleveland, Ohio, considered by many the premier constructor of sugar factories, conversely, provided sufficient space that during two and more generations of successive development allowed for five-fold enlargement of capacity with only minor additions to the structures or foundations.

Wernicke’s record from the standpoint of practicality and fairness, however, was outstanding. Between March 1, 1899 and October 23 of the same year, the German company had shipped a good portion of the factory from Germany. It then arranged for the design and construction of a complete operating facility in a relatively new industry in a foreign country in just under seven months, becoming the first of eight beet sugar factories constructed in Michigan in 1899 which then made it the second such factory built in Michigan after Essexville’s. By standards existing in 1899 and more than one hundred years later, Wernicke’s accomplishment stands as a monumental achievement. Other than ordinary upsets, the factory had operated as well, and in some cases, better than any start-up that took place that year.

Because of the loss of records, specifically, the sugar content of the processed beets, the results of the first campaign can only be estimated. Nearby Bay City reported sugar content of thirteen percent and eleven percent was reported elsewhere in the state. Applying an average of twelve percent, then, to the crop received at Caro, indicates the new factory recovered 66 percent of the sugar in the beets, comparing favorably to the 61 percent recovered at Benton Harbor but short of Alma where recovery reached 72 percent.

However encouraging the results may have been, the simple fact was Wernicke failed to achieve three conditions spelled out in the contract, failures that would result in a hurried walk to the woodshed. First, the factory did not slice 500 tons per day for 30 consecutive days, as guaranteed. Secondly, cost exceeded three cents per pound, and third, the factory was not ready to accept beets on September 1, 1899, as promised. Also, according to the company, the sugar produced lacked salability and much of it was lost in the process. It was then that Wernicke learned the litigious nature of Michigan’s pioneer sugar manufacturers.

It may have been possible that the company would have relented somewhat in consideration of Wernicke’s exceptional effort except that the directors contemplated operating losses because the State of Michigan decided to withhold payment of a promised bounty on any sugar produced after January 1, 1899. The bounty provided payment from the state treasury of one cent for each pound of sugar produced in Michigan from sugarbeets but had been declared unconstitutional by the Auditor General, a decision later upheld by the state supreme court. The decision represented a disaster to investors because one-cent equated roughly to one-third of the operating costs. The United States Supreme Court declined to consider the case, giving rise to the mistaken belief that the decision upheld the lower court’s decision. The unremitted bounty money amounted to $40,436; a much needed offset to an approximate $65,000 loss.

When it came time to take Wernicke to court, the company directors chose as their legal advocate, Charles Evans Hughes, a brilliant jurist destined to become the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. In preparing for his day in court with Wernicke, Hughes learned the German language and the beet sugar industry from the ground up to enable him to cross-examine German engineers appearing as expert witnesses. According to James Howell, a former Caro factory superintendent who authored a detailed account of Caro’s factory history, Hughes spent a month at the Caro factory exploring every nook and cranny until he became expert in its design and function.

The ensuing court case, according to Gutleben, resulted in a forfeiture of the $300,000 bond underwritten by Wernicke, seventy-five percent of the contract price, causing Wernicke to withdraw altogether from constructing sugar factories in the United States. Howell, writing six years before Gutleben, gave a slightly altered account. He related that Wernicke remitted $150,000 and forgave $125,000 still due on the construction contract.

Shortly, Oxnard Construction Company appeared in Caro to affect changes to the factory, none of which were material in terms of the original construction. American made centrifugals, these by the American Tool Machine Company, often called “Amtool” in the industry, replaced those of German design. One major change had nothing to do with defects in the original design. It was the addition of the Steffen process for removing sugar from molasses. A chief problem of the era was the high ratio of sugar that escaped the manufacturing process and ended its days mixed in with molasses, the gummy syrup left over from the manufacturing process.

The second year’s financial results were impressive. The new centrifugals and Steffens process (called the Steffen’s House in the industry) proved their worth. Seven million pounds of sugar passed through the storehouse, the product of thirty-two thousand tons of sugarbeets that contained 14 percent sugar. The factory extracted 243 pounds of sugar from each ton of sugarbeets, a 35 percent improvement over the first year. The new Steffen process had not only recovered sugar from the approximate twenty tons of molasses produced each day but also recovered sugar from molasses left over from the previous crop.

Henry Oxnard founds a management dynasty at Caro

Henry Oxnard did more than merely redesign a factory when he applied his efforts to the problems then existing at Caro; he founded a management dynasty that would permanently influence not only the Caro factory but also the fledgling U.S. beet sugar industry. Nearly ten years earlier, in 1891, Henry Oxnard had recruited from Germany and France some of the finest and best educated technicians of the day who after arriving in America formed the nucleus of a cadre that would set about to train Americans in the production of sugar from beets.

Having formed his first-tier of management, Oxnard then proceeded to provide for the mechanical engineering department. For overall construction management responsibilities, he turned to A. P. Cooper who had served at the pioneer Ames, Nebraska factory in the capacity of assistant engineer. Cooper promptly surveyed the Caro factory and set in motion a plan to affect change, putting to work a duet of draftsmen that had accompanied him to Caro. One was Daniel Gutleben who would one day rise in the ranks of premier factory operators and still later, as the chronicler of the beet industry’s history.

With the two top tiers firmly in place, Oxnard then saw to the placement of a group of promising laborers who lacked adequate training but who could perform with a high degree of satisfaction if given proper tutelage.

Charles Sieland, a thirty-six year old native of Germany employed by Oxnard to oversee the changes, disavowed his countrymen’s tendency to withhold information except for financial reward. He adopted Henry Oxnard’s philosophy of sharing information. Caro, in his mind, was not only a factory but also a university. A long roster of factory technicians and managers began their careers at Caro under his tutelage and then carried their shared knowledge to others when they moved from factory to factory. One of them was William Hoodless, son of the same Richard Hoodless who had started the ball rolling for gaining a factory in Caro. Within a few years he held responsibility for all factory operations and not long afterward accepted the presidency of the Pennsylvania Sugar Refinery in Philadelphia.

In 1906, the Sugar Trust consolidated most of its Michigan holdings into one company, the Michigan Sugar Company, reviving the name of the first company to construct a sugar factory in Michigan. The new Michigan Sugar Company included the Alma Sugar Company, Bay City-Michigan Sugar Company, Peninsular Sugar Refining Company, Carrollton Sugar Company, the Croswell Sugar Company, and the Sebewaing Sugar Company. At the time, the Trust through nominee shareholders held a majority interest in the Blissfield Sugar Company built a year earlier in 1905, and the East Tawas Sugar Company, a company, while failing as a business venture in 1904, was in possession of a fine Kilby-built factory the Sugar Trust had use for in Chaska, Minnesota where it operated for the next sixty-six years. The Carrollton Sugar Company also included the defunct Saginaw Sugar Company which owned yet another Kilby-built factory, this one destined for Sterling, Colorado where it served from 1905 to 1985. Charles Warren assumed the presidency of Michigan Sugar Company, a position he held until 1925.

By 1920, the sun had set on the Sugar Trust. After a generation of withstanding attacks by various federal agencies including the U.S. Justice Department and the Interstate Commerce Commission, the American Sugar Refining Company gradually sold of its many components to private investors and in that way Michigan Sugar Company loosened itself from the grip of the Sugar Trust. Its entire post-trust board of directors consisted of Michigan residents, none of whom had association with the Sugar Trust with the exception of its president, Charles B. Warren whose interest now lay further afield first as Ambassador to Japan, 1921-1922, and then Ambassador to Mexico in 1924. He lost a bid to become Attorney General of the U.S. in 1925 during a politically charged senate vote influenced by an aversion to Warren’s past association with the Sugar Trust. His aspirations for roles in the public sector kept him away from the President’s office, a role ably filled by William H. Wallace who carried the title, 3d vice-president and General Manager. The first and second vice-presidencies fell to a couple of heavy hitters on the shareholder list that had no involvement in day-to-day activities.

Caro survives time and change

Thanks to James Howell, Caro’s superintendent beginning in 1944, who prepared a recorded history in 1948, it is learned that Caro began stockpiling beets in the factory yard in 1937, an important step for growers who after delivering the beets to the factory, could look to the needs of other crops whereas formerly it was necessary to supply the beets as they were needed.

During the period 1928-1937, the Caro factory, like nearly all the Michigan beet sugar factories suffered the ill effects of the Great Depression. However, from 1937 until the present time, Caro reported steady improvement in terms of modernization and expansion. Centrifugals for white sugar and a new pulp warehouse were added in 1944. A centrifugal is an apparatus designed to separate sugar crystals from syrup by filtering the syrup through a screen that spins with sufficient (usually about 1,200 rpm) speed to create a centrifugal force that propels the syrup through perforations in a spinning basket. The sugar crystals remain in the basket while the syrup recirculates through the process to recover more of the sugar. These and other changes have caused the average daily slice rate to expand to more than 3,600 tons each twenty-four hours from the 500 tons per day in the original design which makes it a relatively small factory compared to others in the United States that range from twice as large to four times as large.

If Caro has a secret for surviving more than 100 years, it is that the factory Oxnard rebuilt remained precisely that for many years and remains so today, meeting challenges as they arise , gaining the support of its community and changing when occasion and opportunity join together to compel change. In that way, the oldest surviving beet sugar factory in the United States hangs on in a fast paced industry.


HOWELL, James, A History of the Caro Plant of the Michigan Sugar Company, an unpublished account of the Caro Factory history, May 1, 1948

GUTTLEBEN, Daniel, The Sugar Tramp – 1954 p.182 concerning purchase of sugar factories by the Sugar Trust, p. 177 concerning organization of Sebewaing Sugar and operating results, printed by Bay Cities Duplicating Company, San Francisco, California

MARQUIS, Albert Nelson, editor, The Book of Detroiters, pages 465-468, A.N. Marquis & Company, Chicago, 1908 – concerning the biography of Charles B. Warren

MICHIGAN ANNUAL REPORTS, Michigan Archives, Lansing, Michigan:

Peninsular Sugar Refining Company filed 1904 and Michigan Sugar Company filed 1924

MOODY, John, The Truth about the Trusts, in reference to the comment that the Sugar Trust began buying beet sugar companies in Michigan in 1902 and dividend payments between 1892 and 1900.

UNITED STATES. In the District Court of the United States for the southern district of New York

United States vs. American Sugar Refining Co., et al. page 1674, Petitioner’s Exhibit #1494

Copyright, 2009, Thomas Mahar, All Rights Reserved

The History of the Sebewaing, Michigan Sugar Factory

One of the men destined to join the ranks of Michigan’s pioneer sugar barons was John C. Liken. He was nearly 70 years old when the idea struck him and already rich beyond the dreams he probably had when he carved barrel staves for a living as an indigent immigrant in New York more than fifty years earlier. By 1900, he operated a big business in a small town that referred to him as the town father because his enterprise created the jobs that brought people to the town.

His annual sales during the years preceding 1900, in modern terms, equated to about $7.5 million. In a combination of enterprises that employed two hundred people, he operated four saw mills primarily engaged in manufacturing barrel staves, many of which he shipped to Germany, two flour mills, a major retail outlet for hardware, dry goods, groceries, and drugs which in 1884 employed nine clerks.

Liken’s enterprises were headquartered in a small town in Michigan’s “thumb”. The town was Sebewaing, a small collection of rustic homes nestled on the east shore of the Saginaw Bay some twenty-five miles northeast of Bay City. Its residents were day laborers who worked at one of Liken’s establishments or on one of the surrounding farms, or fished in the great Saginaw Bay that lapped the shores within walking distance of the town.

Sebewaing borrowed its name from the Chippewa word for crooked creek and some of its wealth from the abundant fishing in the bay. Not long before the 19th century came to a close, nearby forests fell to swift axes, making room for German settlers who quickly set about the twin tasks of removing stumps and planting crops.

Liken, a native of Lower Saxony in northwestern Germany met Wallburga Kunkle, the woman who would become his wife, in Binghamton, New York. She was a native of Bavaria and bore the name of a canonized nun who traveled to Germany from England in 748 to perform good works. St. Wallburga became the patron saint of plagues, famines and a host of other discomforts, including dog bites. John Liken had arrived in Binghamton after working for his passage aboard a sailing vessel.

After the birth of their fourth child, Emma, in 1864, who joined her siblings, Mary, born in 1856, Hannah born in 1858, and Charles, born in 1859, John and Walburga moved the family to Sebewaing, a Lutheran settlement that was attracting fishermen, farmers and timber men. The town’s population upon his arrival in 1865 was insufficient to proclaim it a village, but with the arrival of John Liken, that was about to change. He established a sawmill where he made barrel staves. Later, he would develop retail outlets, a creamery, granaries, and ships, incorporating in one person a source for all the goods and services required by the local farming community. The cream and crops, he placed on boats and shipped some thirty miles along the Saginaw Bay shoreline to Bay City, a bustling and growing city where the daily demand for groceries grew apace with its burgeoning population. In was in this connection, shipping, that he became acquainted with ship owner Captain Benjamin Boutell and it was through Captain Boutell that he would learn about sugar opportunities.

The hamlet grew into a village and the town folk began to think of Liken as the town father. Having brought two daughters and a son into the community, who like their father were all of good form, good health, and good cheer, it wasn’t unexpected that the Likens began to add substantially to the population. Mary took for a husband, Richard Martini and a few years later, Hannah allowed a youthful Christian Bach to turn her head (In later times, Christian adopted his middle name, Fred as his given name of preference. He appears in the Michigan sugar chronicles authored by Daniel Gutleben as C.F. Bach.) Charles and his wife, Elizabeth settled into the community to take up management of his father’s affairs.

John Liken had departed his Oldenburg home at the age of eighteen after completing a four-year apprenticeship in the cooperage trade. He would have known of sugar beets because of that experience and certainly would have been aware that men from his homeland had been enjoying some success with them in Michigan’s Bay County where three factories were then in operation and one more was underway and yet another was under construction in Saginaw.

Altogether, a total of eleven beet factories would soon pour sugar and profits into Michigan towns if one believed the hoopla created by railroads and others who would profit from the construction of factories. The excitement that had been stirring farmers and investors across the state seeped into Sebewaing. Liken saw no need to drum up support by the usual methods, holding town meetings, enlisting editors of local newspapers, hiring bands and front men to call upon the farmers. He was convinced of the need for a beet sugar factory and since a good portion of the local wealth resided in his coffers, he saw no need to persuade others to take up the cause. The Likens possessed sufficient resources to build a factory.

He formed an ad hock committee consisting of his son Charles, Richard Henry Martini, the husband of his daughter Hannah, and daughter Mary’s husband, Christian Fred Bach. All three had held important positions in Liken’s enterprises for many years and all were in their late 30’s, thus steeped in experience. In addition, the three resided next to one another on Center Street in Sebewaing, with Martini at Number 69, Charles next door at 68, and Bach at Number 67, thus the trio could convene at leisure and without formality. Should he and his committee approve the idea, the plan would go forward without the usual sale of stock to community members. It did not require a great amount of research on the part of the committee. They had plenty of arable land at their disposal. The Liken family controlled one thousand acres on their own account that combined with others, eliminated a need for a rail line to convey beets to a factory situated on Lake Huron’s shore. They had the financial capacity.

John C. had been generous. Each of his daughters and his son enjoyed full-time servants in their homes and each was well enough off to invest in the new sugar company on their own account and each had demonstrated managerial ability over a long period of time. They had every attribute needed for success in the new industry save one…experience in sugarbeets. News of the activity in Liken’s headquarters leaked into the community at large and inspired some farmers to plant beets, although a completed factory was nearly two years in the future. Those beets, when ready for market, were shipped to Bay City for processing.

Thinking to add the missing ingredient to an otherwise perfect equation for success, John Liken invited Benjamin Boutell and a few of his trusted friends to join in the endeavor. As a consequence, in a short time Liken learned first-hand, how the camel’s nose under the tent fable came into existence. Boutell, no doubt delighted that his expertise was in greater demand than his money, quickly enlisted men of wealth and experience. Among them was John Ross, who would soon become treasurer of the German-American Sugar Company, the last of four beet sugar factories built in Bay County. Next, came lumbermen Frederick Woodworth, William Smalley and William Penoyar, and a ship owner named William Sharp. When men of the stature of Ben Boutell and Penoyar signaled their interest, the floodgates opened; more men of wealth clamored for a stake in the new company. A pair of Saginaw attorneys Watts S. Humphrey and Thomas Harvey climbed aboard as did George B. Morley, legendary grain dealer and banker. Rasmus Hanson, a wealthy lumberman from Grayling, and future president of the German-American Sugar Company, bought in as did William H. Wallace, a quarry operator in nearby Bay Port.

Unwittingly, Liken in attracting investors from Saginaw and Bay City, brought together two distinct groups which could be described as two separate circles of influence. Boutell’s circle consisted of Bay County investors, Woodworth, Ross, Smalley, Sharp and Penoyar. George Morley’s circle included James MacPherson, Humphrey, Harvey, and William H. Wallace, all Saginaw residents, although Wallace was a native of nearby Port Hope and had been a long term resident of Bay Port, a village snugging the shoreline thirteen miles northeast of Sebewaing. In the wings was Ezra Rust, a wealthy Saginaw resident who had won a fortune in the lumber industry. While all of the Bay County investors had lumber interests, of the Saginaw group only MacPherson had a lumber background. The two circles would take up the sport of in-fighting once the new company got underway.

Representatives of what amounted to three distinct groups, Boutell’s Bay City contingent, Morley’s Saginaw faction, and John Liken’s family, gathered in Watts Humphrey’s Saginaw office in July 1901 to take up the matter of organization. Humphrey’s fame would come not from sugarbeet processing but from the fact that his then 12-year old son, George M. Humphrey, would one day achieve stature as the Secretary of the Treasury under President Dwight D. Eisenhower, serving from 1953 until 1957.

Wasting no time, the organizers had at hand, four representatives of construction firms specializing in building beet processing factories. They were Fuehrman & Hapke, E. H. Dyer, Kilby Manufacturing, and Oxnard Construction. It was expected that as soon as the shares were taken up by the attendees, a contract would be awarded to one of the four bidders. To Benjamin Boutell and his Bay City group, there was only one bid of any interest to them and that was the one from Kilby Manufacturing for $900,000. The price was a hefty $1,500 per ton of beet slicing capability, nearly double the $850 per ton price tag of the Essexville factory and almost $600 more per ton than the price for the German-American Sugar Company factory that was currently under construction. Oxnard’s bid of slightly more than $1,800 per ton (including, as usual, a Steffens process) and Dyer’s next to the lowest bid of $1,416 per ton were beaten out by Fuehrman & Hapke’s winning bid of $1,320 per ton for a total price of $792,000.

The first order of business called for the election of officer and directors, a normally placid affair when the company founders knew one another as well as did the gathering in Humphrey’s office. Representatives of each of the three main shareholder groups secured positions. Bay City lumberman, W. C. Penoyar was given the presidency, while Sebewaing’s Christian Bach took on the vice-presidency, and the Saginaw group saw William Baker and Thomas Harvey took the secretary and treasurer seats. Benjamin Boutell and William Wallace joined the executive committee. At the top of the agenda was the matter of deciding on the winning bid for the factory’s construction, which would be, as usual, a full turnkey operation. That’s when the temporary alliance between Bay City, Huron County, and Saginaw County investors fractured.

Boutell’s crowd, said the low bid made no difference, they would accept none other than the one submitted by Kilby. To the Saginaw group, this was tantamount to drawing a line in the sand. They believed firmly in awarding the contract to the lowest bidder. Accordingly, the Sebewaing-Saginaw representatives who controlled three of the officer positions, ignoring the fact that Boutell and his friends controlled 45 percent of the company and that a member of their faction just secured the presidency, gave the nod to Fuehrman & Hapke. Boutell and company recoiling from the suggestion that anyone except Kilby would build a factory in which they had invested, cancelled their stock subscriptions, resigned their positions and withdrew from the board of directors.

When the dust settled, Boutell and his co-investors were out and the Saginaw contingent held the controlling interest at 55 percent with control divided between the Morley and Rust families. The Rust family headed by Ezra Rust would leave its mark on the City of Saginaw in the form of a city park and a major thoroughfare bearing its name. Ezra’s confidence in the sugar industry may have stemmed from a stint he served as an engineer in a Cuban sugar mill during his youth. Morley held 5,000 shares in his own name, while various members of the Rust family held 4,000 shares. Family members and friends of John Liken held 45 percent.

The sudden withdrawal of Bay City investors necessitated a second election. The presidency went to Thomas Harvey. John Liken’s son-in-law, Christian Bach, retained the vice-president’s post and a seat at the director’s table. Liken’s son, Charles, accepted an appointment as treasurer but did not win a board seat. William F. Schmitt, a minor stockholder and Christian Bach’s sister Emma’s suitor, became secretary. In time and after having been tested by fire, he would prove that his advancement was owed entirely to his skill, not to his relationship to the Bach family. In 1906, he took charge of the Sebewaing factory which he then guided for six years before leaving the company for a senior position with Continental Sugar Company. Directors, in addition to Harvey and Christian Bach, included William H. Wallace, Watts Humphrey, George Morley, James MacPherson, who replaced Benjamin Boutell, and Richard Martini.

The appointed contractor for the factory’s construction, Henry Theodore Julius Fuehrman, normally addressed as Jules, arrived from New York where he had constructed a similar factory at Lyons and before that, Pekin, Illinois. He appeared in September for the groundbreaking ceremony. With him was his partner, Theodore Hapke who won high regard from area farmers of German extraction because of his knowledge of sugarbeets and his ability to explain the subject in the mother tongue.

Fuehrman had been closely involved with the construction of a beet factory in Grand Island, Nebraska, which to his good fortune happened to be in the place after Germany that he called home. He was the only son of Henry and Tulia Fuehrman of Brunswick, Germany. Beginning at the age of fourteen, he served an apprenticeship in the mason’s trade. After deciding to prepare himself for the duties of an architect, he devoted himself to the study of architecture in different polytechnic institutions throughout his native land. When twenty years of age, he entered the Germany Army, serving one year, and in 1882, he emigrated to America where after spending two years in Chicago he settled in Grand Island. There he accepted a number of commissions, including the design of the city hall, a church, a university, and eventually the Oxnard beet sugar factory in Grand Island.

Fuehrman’s success attracted the prestigious architectural firm of Post & McCord, the firm that built the roof over Madison Square Garden and the large iron frames for the skyscrapers that dotted Broadway and Wall Street and in 1931 would construct the world’s tallest skyscraper, the Empire State Building. Post & McCord partnered with the equally prestigious American Bridge Company, thus the Sebewaing factory’s formation was destined to be of solid construction. With William H. Wallace serving on the board of directors, the question of whether the foundation was going to be made of solid stones or the new building material, concrete, was resolved without discussion. The stones came from Wallace’s quarry, thirteen miles distant where they were carved by his expert workmen into squares that conformed to the architect’s specifications. Crushed stone from the same source made roadways for hauling equipment and later, beets to the factory. Already the community was enjoying the fruits of the presence of a sugar factory, improved roads and a richer economy as workers discovered gainful employment on the many work crews needed to fashion a factory that would soon win recognition as one of the largest of its kind in the nation.

Emile Brysselbout, Fuehrman and Hapke’s newest partner, was also on hand. Brysselbout’s credentials included the recently constructed Charlevoix, Michigan sugarbeet factory and he had supervised the construction of the Essexville factory.

The cornerstone was laid on October 21, 1901 but the absence of qualified engineers delayed construction. Experienced construction engineers had become a premium in a nation that suddenly could not have enough beet sugar factories. Twenty-five beet sugar factories were constructed between 1900 and 1905 of which ten were in Michigan. Adding to the difficulties was Fuehrman’s absence. He had departed for Dresden, Ontario to construct a similar factory for Captain James Davidson, a Bay City magnate who had decided to dedicate a portion of his wealth to the beet industry.

By appearances, Davidson’s contract held greater importance for Fuehrman than did Sebewaing’s. William Wallace, noted for always taking a firm hand where one was needed, approached Brysselbout with the insistence that Joseph Eckert be hired. Eckert was a man with a can-do reputation and one who would tolerate no obstacles in the path to his goal. Eckert had just finished an assignment at Mendall Bialy’s West Bay City Sugar Company where he had increased productivity more than one-third.

Gutleben relates that when Eckert arrived in Sebewaing, he found nature busy at the task of reclaiming the site. Weeds and wild flowers occupied the space intended for a factory. The few columns that had been erected on Wallace’s stone foundations were poised as if ready to fall to earth. Worse, there was no gear on hand to correct the steelwork in place or to install the balance of it. Fuehrman promised a steam engine but its delivery would have to wait until the steel erection work in Dresden was finished. It was April. The farmers wanted to know if they should plant a beet crop. “Plant ’em!” exclaimed Eckert who then placed an order for the delivery of a steam engine to be charged against Fuehrman & Hapke’s account. Wallace backed the credit. Fuehrman’s complexion turned the color of spoiled liver during his next visit; he fired his innovative engineer for insubordination. Wallace accompanied by Brysselbout turned the decision around in a hurried meeting with Fuehrman.

One of the advantages of having Brysselbout and Eckert on staff was their ability to draw men of similar skill. Brysselbout, inspired by Eckert’s enthusiasm and unquestioned role as chief project engineer after Fuehrman’s failed effort to fire him, secured experienced and highly educated operators, men like Hugo Peters, an 1898 graduate of Leipzig University who would become Sebewaing’s first factory superintendent. James Dooley soon followed. He carried a reputation for practical application of scientific principles and a cool head during emergencies. Eckert attracted outstanding engineers such as Eugene Stoeckly and Pete Kinyon, a master at erecting the steal grids that became the frames for the factories. Nearby farmers, long experienced with neighbors William Wallace, “Bill” to all, and John Liken, both hard driving can-do business leaders, had full confidence that a factory would stand in their midst at harvest time, as promised. They set about planting the second sugarbeet crop in Huron County with results that would prove fortuitous for themselves and for the investors.

When the trees began to blaze red and orange and cool dawn breezes dried the morning dew before farmers stepped from their doors, the county’s first sugarbeet crop waited in neat soldiery rows for men, women and even children to approach them. A lifter, a device designed to loosen the beet from earth’s hold, operated by the farmer, would proceed across the field at a walking pace. Harvesters would follow, pulling the beets from the ground then knocking two of them together to loosen soils and then casting them into a pile to await topping. Eventually, automated motor driven machines would perform the task, a task enhanced by pre-topping and then cleaning of the beets via a shaking system and dumped into waiting trucks. But for now, it was brute work.

On October 10, 1902, it was done. The main building sixty-seven by 258 feet and five floors comprising approximately sixty thousand square feet, made of brick and filled with the most modern equipment available to the industry, opened for business. In a town where the average home consisted of fewer than seven hundred square feet of space, it was an awesome presence. It was one of the grandest and largest buildings constructed in the American Midwest up to that time.

It was agreed that only one man in all of Huron County deserved the honor of delivering the first load of beets to the factory, the man whose dream set off the chain of events that led to the magnificent building now standing at the end of the town’s main street. He was John C. Liken. His family had gathered round two months before on August 9, to celebrate his seventieth birthday and now at an age beyond that which men commonly set aside for the cessation of physical labor, he guided a team of four horses drawing a gaily decorated wagon brimming with sugarbeets onto the scales. The Liken family, standing beside the constructors, Bill Wallace and a contingent from Saginaw, applauded the advance of the high-stepping horses and the contented Mr. Liken. Within the week, Hugo Peter conducted an operational test, allowing only water through the factory to test the readiness as well as the harmony of the equipment. After making a few adjustments to correct weaknesses detected during the water test, he ordered the slicing of beets to begin on October 27.

The farmers delivered beets containing 13.23 percent sugar of which they harvested nearly seven tons to the acre. According to Gutleben’s history, the factory yielded more than 91,000 hundredweight of sugar on an extraction rate of seventy-one per cent giving it returns greater than from the West Bay City’s factory, the Essexville factory, the Bay City Sugar Company and certainly Benton Harbor, Kalamazoo, and the first year of operation at the Caro factory. The operational results mirrored those of the Kilby built Alma factory. Financial results, however, were far greater because the 48,250 tons of beets delivered by Sebewaing growers exceeded by two-hundred fifty percent the 19,100 tons delivered by Alma growers for that factory’s first campaign. Sebewaing growers delivered the greatest number of beets delivered to a single factory up until that time, loud evidence of the confidence Huron County farmers placed in Wallace, Liken, and Bach, confidence, as events revealed, that was not misplaced. Estimated profits for Sebewaing’s first year of operation approximated $140,000, 26 percent on sales and providing a 17 percent return on investment.

Soon, two important personages representing the American Sugar Refining Company called on Bill Wallace. They were Henry Niese, head of operations and W. B. Thomas from the company’s treasury department (Thomas would become president of American Sugar Refining on December 20, 1907 following the death of Henry O. Havemeyer earlier that month.). Their mission was to scout candidates for admission to the Sugar Trust. The visit occasioned a significant change in the company’s make-up when Charles B. Warren, a Detroit attorney who represented the interests of the American Sugar Refining Company arrived shortly afterward to offer an investment of $325,000. The company issued an additional thirty-five thousand shares of stock of which he acquired 32,500; other shareholders each increased their stake by approximately 8.3 percent, effectively giving Warren a 50 percent interest in the company with the other half in the hands of the Liken family (24 percent) and Morley’s Saginaw investors (26 percent).

The bloom of youth still graced the cheeks of Charles Beecher Warren when he appeared in Sebewaing like a godsend to drop what would amount to in current dollars nearly seven million dollars in a start-up company managed entirely by local investors. His youth disguised a young man bearing a sound education and a steely resolve to make something of himself. Before his time passed, he would become the US ambassador to two nations (Japan in 1921 and Mexico in 1924), write the regulations for conscription during World War I, head a major law firm and direct the affairs of a number of corporations.

In 1903 when visiting Sebewaing, however, he resembled not so much the power broker and respected lawyer he would become but instead, a pleasant young man with a pocket full of cash. He was fresh from Saginaw where he persuaded the owners of the Carrollton factory to take his cash in exchange for a 60 percent stake in the factory that came into existence when Boutell’s Bay City crowd parted company with the Sebewaing investors. He would, over the course of a few years, dispense more than three and half million dollars in Michigan alone ($60 million in current dollars) while acquiring sugar companies that would immediately report to the New York office of the American Sugar Refining Company-not bad for someone who had been taking rooms in a boarding house situated near Cass Avenue in Detroit in 1900.

His rise to power began six years earlier when he was appointed associate counsel for the US government in hearings before the joint high commission in the Bering Sea controversy with Great Britain. The matter concerned England’s perceived right to harvest seals notwithstanding the United States opinion that extinction would surely follow that practice. By 1900, he was a partner in the law firm of Shaw, Warren, Cady & Oakes a Detroit firm representing a number of banks and manufacturing firms, chief among them the American Sugar Refining Company. A few years hence, he would adopt the title of president of Michigan Sugar Company, a position he would hold for 19 years in addition to the presidency of a sugar company in Iowa and another in Minnesota. During that same time period he returned to the international arena once again where his carefully watched performance won accolades from imminent lawyers in Europe and America. This time, he appeared on behalf of the United States before the Hague tribunal to resolve a dispute between the United States and England concerning North Atlantic fishing rights.

The son of a small town newspaper editor, Robert Warren, he listed Bay City as his birthplace, but because of the nature of his father’s profession, moved from time to time while growing up, always within Michigan. He graduated first from Albion College then attended and graduated from the University of Michigan before attending the Detroit College of Law where he graduated LL.B. At the Detroit College of Law, he studied under Don. M. Dickenson and then joined Dickenson’s firm when he was admitted to the bar in 1893, the year he graduated. A few years later, he joined John C. Shaw and William B Cady in organizing a separate law firm, a firm he would eventually head throughout his career. Early on, displaying an understanding of the value of macro management, he tended to see to the installation of experienced managers and then leave them unmolested as they carried out the day to day requirements of conducting business.

Much as Caro served as a training ground for factory operators, Sebewaing acted as a school for factory managers who were sent throughout America to beet and cane factories owned by American Sugar Refining Company and others. Hugo Peters moved on to Dresden to oversee James Davidson’s operation and then took similar positions in Idaho, Utah, California and even the West Indies. In 1920, Peters turned his attention to spectro-photometric analysis for the US Bureau of Standards, making serious contributions to color analysis. Jim Dooley stayed on as manager at Sebewaing for a few years then headed operations for all of Michigan Sugar Company when it came into existence in 1906. Wilfred Van Duker, Sebewaing’s first chief chemist, dedicated the larger portion of his career to improving cane milling in Hawaii. There, he eventually managed four sugar estates. Richard Henry Martini became General Agricultural Superintendent for Michigan Sugar Company and Henry Pety moved on to Utah for a superintendency before returning to Michigan to manage the Mount Pleasant factory. The Sebewaing factory continued to expand by adding physical structures and equipment in the form of diffusion towers, automated affairs that replaced the older battery operations, evaporators, modern centrifugals, storage bins and other equipment that caused the daily beet slicing capacity to gradually expand from 600 tons per day to more than 5,000 tons per day.


Estimated profits for the first year of operation: Records did not survive. The author determined an estimated profit by applying an estimated selling price of $5.12 for each one hundred pounds to the total hundredweight available for sale and then deducted costs estimated at$3.57 per one hundred pounds.

GUTTLEBEN, Daniel, The Sugar Tramp – 1954 p. 182 concerning purchase of sugar factories by the Sugar Trust, p. 177 concerning organization of Sebewaing Sugar and operating results, printed by Bay Cities Duplicating Company, San Francisco, California

MICHIGAN ANNUAL REPORTS, Michigan Archives, Lansing, Michigan:

Sebewaing Sugar 1903, 1904

Sebewaing Lumber, 1901, 1904

Bay Port Fish, 1901

Saginaw Courier Herald, July 11, 1901 – reporting on the meeting of stockholders of the newly formed Sebewaing Sugar Company.

Portrait and biographical album of Huron County:

John C. Liken, Christian F. Bach, Richard Martini

U.S. Census reports for Sebewaing, 1900, 1910