October 2009 OutdoorIllinois / 11

A distant chapter in Illinois historyreveals the value of this once-precious commodity.

When Salt was Gold

Story and PhotosBy Joe McFarland

I n a pinch, governments oftenturn to creative sources offunding to support essentialservices. In the late 1820s, asour young state was experienc-

ing a financial pinch, salt cured theproblem. More specifically, saltdeposits located on thousands of acresof Illinois land were put up on theblock to raise money for necessary stateprojects, including—and here’s a bit ofIllinois history trivia—construction ofthe state’s first penitentiary.

Not only did the sale of the govern-ment’s “salt reservations” in 1827 payfor a new penitentiary at Alton, theremaining half of the money earnedfrom the sale of those 40,000 acres

funded state infrastructure develop-ments such as road-building and clear-ing rivers for navigation. Thus, as Illi-nois built itself into a proper state, themoney derived from nothing less thancommon salt made it all possible.

Throughout history, salt has stood asa pillar of basic commerce and symbolof wealth. The scattered availability of itmade salt deposits places of economicand strategic importance. As a neces-sary staple of life, salt was like water—everybody needed it because salt wasthe basic way everyone preserved food.As a rare commodity in many regions,salt was like gold. It’s why, among themany tasks explorers Lewis and Clarkwere commissioned to perform by

Thomas Jefferson in 1803, locating anddocumenting the known salt depositsin northwestern America was on theirshort list of duties. Once located, thosedeposits were claimed by the federalgovernment as national salt reserva-tions. Just as oil or uranium today repre-sent resources of importance to govern-ments, basic salt once was a resource ofnational importance.

Fragments of Native American

“salt pans” recovered during

archaeological investigations

show the ancient history of salt

production along the Saline River.

As Lewis and Clark departed theshores of the Mississippi River and leftIllinois, at least one famous salt depositin southern Illinois already was known.Not far from present-day Shawneetown,tucked into the Wildcat Hills in GallatinCounty, a trickle of salt-rich water flowsfreely even on bitter cold winter days.The Great Salt Spring, as locals know it,actually is a few spots that release salt-rich water into the nearby Saline River.During prehistoric times, Native Ameri-cans would collect the salty water inlarge, earthenware pans for evapora-tion. Once the water evaporated orboiled away, people would scrape outthe dried salt, then repeat the process.

The task was never easy, and the dif-ficult business of manufacturing salt—often over hot fires—led to a lexicon ofsalt terms and colloquialisms still in usetoday.

“Back to the salt mine,” exhaustedworkers mutter as they return to theirjobs today. One might chide a co-work-er: “That guy’s not worth his salt.”

“Making salt was not an easy job,”agreed Mark Wagner, an archaeologistat Southern Illinois University wheremany artifacts from this local, prehis-toric salt works are stored. “Getting thelabor to work the salt works was alwaysa problem.”

Although Illinois was officially afree state, having voted against slaveryin 1824, Wagner said a loopholeallowed the owners of the Illinois saltworks to hire slaves from other states.At its peak, the business of making saltrequired hundreds of workers. Sincevast amounts of firewood wererequired to boil the saltwater, theworkforce included tree cutters andcrews to split and transport firewoodto the constantly burning fires at thesalt spring. Envisioning this demand

for wood fuel, the thousands of acresof “salt reservations” the governmenthad set aside included thousands ofacres of timber required for theboiling operation.

As indicated by the massive invest-ment of energy and labor required forsalt production, salt in America was notthe inexpensive commodity we knowand take for granted today. Our essen-tial need for salt, whatever its cost, iswhy the production of salt at this Illi-nois source continued even after all ofthe trees within a mile of the site hadbeen cut down for firewood.

“What they did after the local sourceof firewood was exhausted was to builda pipeline to carry the saltwater a cou-ple of miles away to where there stillwere trees,” explained Mary McCorvie,an archaeologist for the U.S. Forest Ser-

12 / OutdoorIllinois October 2009

Sale of the government-owned

salt reserves in Illinois paid for

construction of the state’s first

penitentiary in Alton.

Shawnee National Forest archaeol-

ogists recovered an original log

used as part of a wooden pipeline

to transport saltwater from the

source in the 1800s.

October 2009 OutdoorIllinois / 13

vice, which now manages the GreatSalt Springs as a national historic land-mark. The pipeline was made from logsthat had been drilled and fitted togeth-er, a job requiring, in itself, a significanteffort as the pipeline was installed overhills and creeks within the treeless land-scape. During archaeological excava-tions at the site, intact sections of this150 year-old pipeline were discov-ered—still preserved by the briny waterthey once carried.

Eventually, coal-fired furnacesboiled the saltwater to extract the pre-cious resource, which was scraped outof iron kettles, packed into barrels anddelivered to distant markets. The ardu-ous transportation of this hard-earnedsalt back to eastern markets or down-

river to New Orleans finally proved tobe an insolvent business liability.When a major salt deposit in West Vir-ginia began providing cheaper salt toeastern markets, the end came quicklyfor our Illinois salt business.

“West Virginiawas a slave state,”Wagner pointedout, adding that,not only was WestVirginia closer tothe populations ofthe east, slavelabor undercut theIllinois laborexpense. By 1870,commercial pro-

duction at the Great Salt Spring in Illi-nois had ceased.

Each year, as national transportationimproved and new deposits of salt inAmerica were mined and delivered tomarket, the price of salt fell so low,consumers eventually forgot the once-precious value of salt.

More than 125 years later, much ofthe land cleared for firewood aroundIllinois’ Great Salt Spring remains openas agricultural fields. Down a roadstands a 19th century home, the Cren-shaw House, once owned by business-man John Crenshaw, who operated thesalt works. Over the years, rumors ofthis state-owned house being haunt-ed—as well as legends of slave deal-ings—have led to its local reputation as“The Old Slave House.”

But in the Forest Service-ownedproperty immediately around thespring itself, the forests have regrownand there is little evidence of thecrowds of workers that once workedthe salt of the earth. The quiet trickle ofsalty water that flows into an old stonewell, and eventually the nearby SalineRiver, is one of the few visiblereminders of that not-so-ancient erawhen salt was gold.

Directions: From the intersection of Illinois Route 13 andIllinois Route 1, drive 2 miles to south to Salt Well Road.

Turn west, following Salt Well Road as it immediately splits tothe right (do not take the leftfork, which is Grater Road).The well is located less than1 mile ahead at the base of ahill on the left (south). Thebest time of year to visit isduring cool weather whenthe vegetation has died backand the well is exposed. Nomajor signs are posted nearthe site, but if one keeps aneye open for the well—including the trickle of salty water at the base of the hill—itisn’t hard to find. The site is protected as a National HistoricSite. No disturbance or artifact collecting is allowed.

The 19th century Crenshaw House,

now owned by the state, was built

by a former owner of the salt well.

The overgrown, rock-lined walls

of a salt spring are all that

remain of this major part of

Illinois history.