OUTSKIRTS OF A CITY.OUTSKIRTS OF A CITY.
Having finished a preliminary course of study and wishing to enter West Point, he urged his father to apply to John Bingham, then a member of Congress for the district in which Monroe was situated, for an appointment. This his father hesitated to do as Mr. Bingham's politics were opposed to his. The young man was therefore obliged to rely upon his own efforts. He called upon the dignitary himself. Mr. Bingham was pleased with the applicant, promised to lend his influence, and the result was that George Armstrong Custer ultimately received a formal notification from Washington, bearing the signature of Jefferson Davis, to the effect that the recipient was expected to report immediately to the commanding officer at West Point. His course there was about finished upon the breaking out of the late war. He went at once to Washington, and through General Scott was launched upon his military career. What sort of a soldier he was the world knows. What his character was the following incident may partially suggest. It occurred early in the war when Custer was beginning to feel somewhat discouraged over his affairs. He had already done much that was worthy of promotion and, havinga boy's pride and ambition. Fate seemed to be against him. The clouds vanished one day, however, when the Army of the Potomac was encamped on the north bank of the Chickahominy near Richmond.
General Barnard, of the Engineers, starting out to discover if the river was fordable at a certain point, called upon Custer to accompany him. Arrived at the bank of the stream, he ordered the young officer to "jump in." He was instantly obeyed, although the pickets of the enemy were known to be on the opposite side, and dangerously near. Nor did Custer return, after having found that there was firm bottom, until he had made a thorough reconnoissance of the Confederate outposts.
Upon their return, Barnard rode up to McClellan, who was about to visit with his staff his own outposts, and began reporting the recently acquired information, while his late aide, wearied with the undertaking, and covered with Chickahominy mud, had fallen to the rear. Gradually it came out that Custer, and not Custer's superior officer, had performed the important duty. He was immediately called for, and to his great embarrassment, for his appearance was far from presentable, was asked by McClellan to make a report of the situation himself. At the end of the recital he was asked by his commander, to his amazement, how he would like to join his staff. McClellan had, by a rare power peculiar to him, in that short interview, won Custer's unfailing loyalty and affection, and when Custer was asked afterwards how he felt at the time, his eyes filled with tears, and he said: "I felt I could have died for him."
This promotion marked the beginning of his futuresuccess. In recalling his career, these simple lines, written by a poet unknown to me, and with which Frederick Whittaker, in his admirable life of Custer, brings his biography to a close, involuntarily suggest themselves:
"Who early thus upon the field of gloryLike thee doth fall, needs for his fameNaught but the simple telling of his story,The naming of his name."
Varney House,
Rockwood, Michigan,
July Twenty-eighth.
Before orderingPaulin the morning, I called again at the home of the Custers. The General's father seemed greatly interested in my journey, and asked many questions concerning my plans for crossing the Plains. I was shown the rich and interesting collection of relics from the Indian country which Custer had accumulated, and which adds a picturesqueness to every corner of the house, and with these, some very striking photographs of the General taken in every variety of position and costume. After a pleasant chat, in the course of which Mr. Custer assured me of his kind solicitude, he walked back to the hotel with me to see me off.
While riding out of town, I met Mr. Bulkley, and was introduced to several gentlemen of his acquaintance, many of whom were schoolmates of Custer during his boyhood. Mr. Bulkley, speaking for the Monument Association, assured me that everythingwould be done that could further my wishes in Michigan.
The lecture last evening was well attended and proved a financial success. It was therefore gratifying to give the entire proceeds to the treasurer, Judge T. E. Wing, although he generously offered to divide. Parting with Mr. Bulkley, I continued on my route, my mind filled with the events of the three preceding days. Just beyond the town I halted to look back, and then, determined to prevent any sombre thoughts, which might follow, put spurs toPaul, who very soon covered the thirteen miles between Monroe and this place. As we neared the village, I caught sight of Huron River, theWrockumiteogoeof the Indians, meaning, "clear water." On its banks are found those mysterious legacies of the Mound Builders—whether dwellings or tombs, remains for the antiquarian to determine.
Farmers' Hotel,
Ecorse, Michigan,
July Twenty-ninth.
Moved from Rockwood at ten A. M., halting for a few minutes at Trenton, a small village seven miles north of Rockwood; and from there, riding on to Wyandotte, which I reached about one o'clock, and stopped only a moment at the Biddle House, finding that dinner was awaiting me at a private residence. I was ready to answer the hospitable summons promptly. Between two and five o'clock, I occupied part of the time in looking about the village, which is chieflynoted for its iron industries. Farm implements, iron ships, iron rails, and in fact everything that can be made out of iron, is produced here. After dinner I rode on to Ecorse, which is three miles beyond, and there found letters and papers telling me that I was expected at the Russell House, Detroit, on the evening of the coming Monday. Once within my hotel, I found the heat almost unbearable, but following a certain method which I had found by experience to be a successful one, I was enabled in a measure to improve my surroundings. To those who might think mymodus operandisomewhat unbecoming, I would only suggest that they try my mode of travel through the same region of country, and at the same season of the year. Personal experience might change their opinion.
Having been shown to my apartment by the landlord or one of his assistants, I quietly entered and secured the door, betraying no surprise upon seeing the inevitable "feather bed." Taking off my coat, I began by removing the layers of mattresses, which had in them a wonderful reserve force of July heat. I then took my lamp and held it so that its lambent flame could warm the cockles of every mosquito's heart clinging to the ceiling. The mosquitoes, quite averse to the intense heat, quietly dropped into the little purgatory which I had prepared for them, and troubled me no more.
So did I secure my repose at the Farmers' Hotel, and in the morning was in the humor to give the good-natured proprietor, Louis Cicotte—a typical French Canadian—a very hearty greeting, and an assurance of my refreshment.
Farmers' Hotel,
Ecorse, Michigan,
July Thirtieth.
The weather was oppressively warm again on this day, and business in Ecorse was apparently not "booming." I found the place quite in keeping with the majority of French villages along the Detroit River—unambitious and lifeless.
Two acknowledgments came from Monroe soon after I left, referring to the aid which I had the pleasure of giving to those interested in the Custer Monument. One was a brief and courteous bearer of thanks, and is as follows:
Headquarters,Custer National Monument Association;Monroe, Michigan,July 28, 1876.This is to certify that the proceeds of the lecture by Captain Willard Glazier, in this city on Thursday evening, July 27, 1876, have been paid into the treasury of this association, for which the members hereby tender him their sincere thanks.T. E. Wing,Treasurer.
Headquarters,
Custer National Monument Association;
Monroe, Michigan,
July 28, 1876.
This is to certify that the proceeds of the lecture by Captain Willard Glazier, in this city on Thursday evening, July 27, 1876, have been paid into the treasury of this association, for which the members hereby tender him their sincere thanks.
T. E. Wing,
Treasurer.
The other was a letter of introduction and explains itself:
Headquarters,Custer National Monument Association;Monroe, Michigan,July 28, 1876.To Auxiliary Socieities and Associations of the Custer Monument Association:Captain Willard Glazier, having kindly and generously volunteered to devote the proceeds of his lectures through Michigan to thefund being raised by this Association, for the erection of a monument to the memory of the late General George A. Custer, has made arrangements to remit to our treasurer here the money derived from such lectures, and we bespeak for him your earnest endeavor in aid of our common, glorious cause.Respectfully,J. M. Bulkley,Secretary.
Headquarters,Custer National Monument Association;
Monroe, Michigan,
July 28, 1876.
To Auxiliary Socieities and Associations of the Custer Monument Association:
Captain Willard Glazier, having kindly and generously volunteered to devote the proceeds of his lectures through Michigan to thefund being raised by this Association, for the erection of a monument to the memory of the late General George A. Custer, has made arrangements to remit to our treasurer here the money derived from such lectures, and we bespeak for him your earnest endeavor in aid of our common, glorious cause.
Respectfully,
J. M. Bulkley,
Secretary.
Our second day at Ecorse ended pleasantly. In the afternoon my brother and I went for a row on the river, and in the evening took a walk into the country. We did not meet with any game, although natural history proclaims this section the haunt of many varieties of bird and beast. The first settlers even remember having a casual acquaintance with the deer, bear, wolf, wild cat, and a variety of smaller game, including that interesting little quadruped, the wolverine, whose name has become the nickname of Michigan.
After a much-needed rest of a day and two nights at Ecorse, I left that quiet retreat on the afternoon of July thirty-first, with Detroit as my evening objective. At Fort Wayne, I was met by Babcock, who brought me the sad intelligence of the death of my little Detroit friend, Kitty Murphy, who had failed very rapidly after her brief visit to Toledo. We rode forward together, reaching the Russell House at five o'clock, and there I was met by General William A. Throop and others, who were appointed as a committee to receive me. In the evening I lectured at St. Andrew's Hall, being introduced by General L. S. Trowbridge and was accompanied on the platform by several Grand Army comrades.
Immediately after the lecture, I hurried to the home of my bereaved friends, where I found the mother and sisters of the dead girl completely prostrated with grief. The one who had gone was their favorite, for whom they had the highest hopes, and it was hard to be reconciled to the passing away of a life so full of promise and noble purposes. I wasproud to know that one universally loved and admired had thought of me in her last moments and had left a token of her friendship.
On the morning of August first, I arranged my affairs so as to be able to attend the funeral services of my young friend the following day.
The proceeds of my lecture were handed to the Monument Fund committee with a letter from me to be forwarded to Monroe, and its representatives here acknowledged this in the following note:
City Hall,Detroit, Michigan,August 1, 1876.Received of Captain Willard Glazier, forty dollars, for the benefit of the Custer Monument Association, as the proceeds of his lecture, at Detroit, on the evening of July 31, 1876, in aid of such association.[Signed]L. S. Trowbridge,William A. Throop,Committee.
City Hall,
Detroit, Michigan,
August 1, 1876.
Received of Captain Willard Glazier, forty dollars, for the benefit of the Custer Monument Association, as the proceeds of his lecture, at Detroit, on the evening of July 31, 1876, in aid of such association.
[Signed]L. S. Trowbridge,
William A. Throop,
Committee.
On the afternoon of August second, I went to Kitty's grave with her family and friends, where we arranged on the little mound our gifts of flowers. I placed my own offering—a crown—at her head. It was the last tribute, the "farewell" which we hoped might one day be lost in "welcome."
During my stay here, many friends extended invitations to visit them, but I was able to accept very few. Among those whom I met was my old comrade, Captain Charles G. Hampton, who was at the Russell House to greet me when I arrived. No one could have been more welcome. Captain Hampton and I began our somewhat peculiar acquaintance as classmates in the State Normal College at Albany, New York, in thespring of 1861, where we joined a military organization known later as the "Normal Company" of the "Ellsworth Avengers"—Forty-fourth New York Infantry—whose members were put through a course of drills in anticipation of future necessity, our voluntary drill masters being Professors Rodney G. Kimball and Albert N. Husted.
It was argued by the principal and by the faculty generally, that while young men were learning how to teach the schools of the State, it would be well also for them to be prepared to defend the flag of the State. We had just closed our term when President Lincoln issued his call for seventy-five thousand volunteers, and as it was not at this time the apparent intent of the Normal Company to enter the service as a body, we decided to enlist in some other organization.
Hampton went to Rochester where he joined the Eighth New York Cavalry, while I enlisted in the Second New York-Harris Light Cavalry, at Troy. We did not meet again until November, 1863—when, by the fortune of war, we both became inmates of Libby Prison. The circumstances that brought us there were, on his side, wounds and capture in an action with guerrillas under Mosby; on mine, capture in a cavalry battle near New Baltimore, Virginia, during Lee's retreat from the field of Gettysburg.
During our imprisonment at Richmond, Danville, Macon, Savannah, and Charleston, Captain Hampton and I belonged to separate messes, so that, while we met daily, we had very little intimate intercourse. At Columbia, however, it was different. We arrived there in the midst of a violent thunder-storm, and were marched to our "quarters," in an open yard wherethe water was running in streams. Hampton had managed to get possession of a board about twelve feet long when he met me, and immediately asked if I had anything to stand or lie on. Upon receiving a negative answer he said: "Come on, let us share this plank together." From this time we were messmates, being joined later by Lieutenant Arthur Richardson of Albany. When I escaped from Columbia I intrusted to Captain Hampton a small box in which I had kept some manuscripts and sketches, that I intended to use in future work. This he managed to keep until his exchange, when he expressed it to my home in Northern New York. We did not meet again until after the close of the war. The possession of the contents of this box was of inestimable value to me in getting out my first book, "Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape." Being embarrassed for funds before the first edition of it was published, I wrote to Captain Hampton, and by the next mail received a generous sum sufficient to carry me through that critical period. Since then he has been a most loyal friend and comrade, and during my stay here, did much to make enjoyable my visit to the city which he had chosen for his home.
One needs no friends though, to make Detroit attractive, for its past history and present beauty give it an unfailing interest. As to the latter, it can never be justly drawn, however vivid the description, nor truly understood, however careful the reader. It must beseen. As to its history, that is general and belongs to the country, and I know of no great American city which has a more romantic past.
In the days of the early explorers the present site was looked upon as favorable for a settlement, commandingas it does a rich tract of country and lying at the very entrance to the Upper Lakes. The Iroquois were then in possession and their village was known as Teusha Grondi. Both the English and French coveted this point, but the latter were more enterprising, and anticipated their rivals by making an appointment with the Iroquois for a great council at Montreal, in which the Governor-General of Canada and others were to have a voice. The wary Frenchmen presented their claims very plausibly, but failed to win the approbation of the equally wary Indians. They were told that their brothers, the Englishmen, had been refused, and that it was not well to show partiality; but this excuse had very little weight with the subjects of the Grande Monarque, who had been accustomed to make themselves at home generally. The Governor-General in an impressive speech replied that neither the Iroquois nor the English had any right to the land which belonged to the King of France, and that an expedition had been already sent out to establish a fort on the Detroit River!
This was indeed the case. La Motte Cadillac, with a Jesuit missionary and one hundred men, was on his way, while his countrymen, with the consistency which has ever marked the dealings between the red and white races, were asking permission of the Indians. The French fleet, composed of twenty-five birch canoes bearing the colors of France, reached the Detroit River in July, 1701. There was a telling significance in the floating of that flag over the boats decorated with Indian symbols and, if the savages had discerned it, the French commander and his followers would never have reached their destination. As it was, theycame quietly as friends, and were allowed to establish themselves without interference.
On the first rise of ground overlooking the river, the palisades were raised and the guns set, and by the close of August, Fort Ponchartrain became a reality. The Miamis and Pottawattomies were soon induced to make a settlement near by, and afterwards a few Huron and Ottawa bands collected on the opposite shore of the river near the site of Windsor. The point quickly attracted the fur trader, being in a direct line from Michilimackinac to Montreal and Quebec. For sixty-two years the French held possession of Detroit, profiting by her superior location, and the friendship of the Indians, but their day ended when the sharp eyes of Wolfe discovered the steep ascent to the "Plains of Abraham," in Canada, and pointed a way for British supremacy.
The Treaty of Paris, which was the outcome of the French and Indian War, called for the surrender of all the forts held by the French, but news travelled so slowly that when Captain Rodgers with his two hundred rangers came to take possession of Fort Ponchartrain, he found still floating over it the flag of France. While on his way to execute this mission, he was met by Pontiac, the Ottawa chief, who was angered by the transfer of claimants to his land, and who demanded of Rodgers "what right he had in entering the dominion of the great Indian King without permission." The answer he received was far from satisfactory, but he bided his time to make his dissatisfaction felt. The same feeling was manifested everywhere by the Indian allies of the French, but their wrath was concentrated upon Detroit, onaccount of its being the great stronghold of the West.
In 1763, Pontiac had arranged his famous scheme for either annihilating the obnoxious new-comers or driving them east of the Alleghenies. They did not treat him so considerately as the old claimants, and he was far-seeing enough to realize the result. Aflame with hatred and determined to save his people from the fate that awaited them, he visited the great tribes that were friendly, and sought their co-operation. In a speech at the great council held at Ecorse on the twenty-seventh of April, 1762, he said, "As for these English—these dogs dressed in red who have come to rob you of your hunting-grounds and to drive away the game—you must lift the hatchet against them and wipe them from the face of the earth." The plan was worthy of a Napoleon. The confederated tribes were to attack simultaneously all the Western forts, while his particular band was to be brought against Detroit. This point he had expected to take by stratagem and would no doubt have succeeded but for the betrayal of the plot by an Ojibway maiden who was in love with the British commandant. The day before its execution this Indian girl brought Major Gladwyn a pair of moccasins which he had asked her to make for him, and on her way home with the remainder of the deer-skin, which he had furnished for the same purpose, she lingered about the gate so as to attract the attention of the sentinel. He saw that she seemed to be troubled about something, and asked her to return. Wavering between love and duty to her race, she hesitated; but finally the impulse of her heart prevailed, and returning to theroom of the commandant, she told him the terrible secret.
Pontiac was to come to the fort on the morrow ostensibly to hold peaceful negotiations with his white brothers, but really to massacre them. His warriors, who had cunningly shortened their rifles by sawing off a part of the barrels, so that they might carry them concealed beneath their blankets, were to fall upon Gladwyn and his men at a given signal. This news was lightly received although the statements of the Indian girl seemed to be verified by a slight thread of evidence which had from time to time been brought to Gladwyn's notice. He laughed at the thought of danger at such a time, when the peace which had lasted for two years appeared so likely to continue; but while he doubted Pontiac's real intentions, he decided to be prepared for any issue. The guards were doubled, sentinels were stationed on the ramparts, and when the great chief came in the guise of friendship, he was completely nonplussed by the show of discipline in the garrison. Entering the north gate with his sixty blanketed conspirators, he found himself confronted by a double line of red-coated soldiers, their muskets held at "present arms." At the corners of the streets were groups of fur traders, and at regular intervals the silence was broken by the beating of drums.
Surprised at every turn, and fearing that his plot had been discovered, Pontiac walked on sullenly endeavoring to conceal his annoyance. When he reached the council-house he said to Gladwyn, "Why do I see so many of my father's young men standing in the streets with their guns?" The commandant lightlyreplied that he had just been drilling them to preserve discipline and that it was moreover a custom with the English to thus honor their guests. These suavely spoken words failed to reassure the chief, who sat down for a few moments without speaking; but having recovered his self-possession and assuming with it an habitual expression of stoical defiance, he arose and began his harangue. Gladwyn, he noticed, instead of listening to what was being said, kept his eyes steadfastly upon the movements of the other Indians, and when the belt of wampum was taken up and the chief began to reverse it in his hands—the signal for attack—Gladwyn made a quick motion and in an instant the dusky semi-circle was startled by the grounding of arms and the beating of drums.
Thus interrupted and foiled, Pontiac took his seat in silence. Gladwyn then arose, and began his speech as though nothing unusual had occurred; but after a few moments he changed his tone, accused Pontiac of treachery, and stepping quickly to the nearest Indian threw open his blanket and disclosed the hidden weapon. He then told Pontiac to leave the fort at once, assuring him that he would be allowed to go in safety. The unfortunate result of this act of clemency was very soon felt, for as soon as the Indians were outside of the gates, they turned and fired upon the garrison, thus beginning the terrible siege which was to last fifteen months.
Autumn approached, and, as the crops were poor, several of the tribes withdrew for the winter, but Pontiac, untiring in his efforts to harass his enemies, remained, sending messages in the meantime to several of the French posts, asking their help. In Novemberhe received word from the commandant of Fort Chartres on the Mississippi telling him that it was impossible for the French to give any help as they had signed a treaty with the English; and later similar messages reached him from other points. Still he did not give up. His allies had captured eight forts, and if he could take Detroit success would undoubtedly follow.
In the spring the tribes returned to renew the attack upon the wellnigh exhausted garrison, keeping up their fiendish tortures, capturing vessels sent with supplies and reinforcements, and bringing the handful of brave men within the palisades to the verge of despair. As summer advanced the anxious watchers, hearing the sunset gun thunder out across the water, thought that each night might be their last; but off in the East, General Bradstreet and his large force were starting to the rescue, and by midsummer they had crushed the hopes, if not the proud spirit of Pontiac. Sending one of his officers to this chief with terms of peace, his advances were received with the coldest disdain. Captain Morris, who was the ambassador, was met beyond the Indian camp by Pontiac himself, but the chief refused to extend his hand, and bending his glittering eyes upon the officer said, with a voice full of bitterness and hatred, "The English are liars!"
All attempts at conciliation were made in vain. Pontiac, taking with him four hundred warriors, went away, revisiting all the tribes, sending the wampum belt and hatchet stained with vermilion far and wide, and exhorting the Indians to unite in the common cause, threatening, if they refused, to consume them"as the fire consumes the dry grass of the prairie." He failed to rouse them, however, and was forced at last to return to Detroit and accept peace.
The feelings that surged in his savage heart, when he found himself thus defeated, can only be guessed. Chagrined and disappointed, he retired to Illinois, and there perished by the hand of an assassin. No stone marks his burial-place, "and the race whom he hated with such burning rancor trample with unceasing footsteps over his forgotten grave."
The early history of Detroit is full of tragedy, and although the beautiful river and its islands, the splendid forests and sunny fields that encompass it, seem to have been intended for peace and the play of romance, they were instead the scenes of treachery and carnage. During the war of the Revolution, Detroit and Mackinaw, far from the field of action, nevertheless had their share in it. From their magazines Indians were furnished with arms and ammunition and were sent out with these to harass and destroy the frontier settlements of New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia and Kentucky, receiving a price upon their return for the scalps which they brought! Besides these Indian expeditions, the local militia went out, at one time under Captain Byrd, and again under Henry Hamilton. The latter, in an attempt to protect the British interests on the Wabash, was cleverly captured at Vincennes by General George Clarke, who advanced upon this post with his men supported by a formidable but harmless device in the form of a cannon cut out of a tree. Hamilton, dreading the artillery, surrendered, and the people of Detroit, believing that the victor would march against them, erected a new fort near thepresent corner of Fort and Shelby streets, which they named Lenault. During the war of 1812, this name was changed and the post became known as Fort Shelby.
After the treaty of 1783 the western posts did not at once acknowledge American jurisdiction, and among these Detroit seemed to be the most defiant, but when Wayne effectually weakened the strength of the Indians, there was a general surrender, although the United States forces did not take actual possession until July eleventh, 1796. With childish spite, the British, upon leaving this fort, broke the windows of the barracks, filled the wells with stones and did all they could to annoy those who were to succeed them, and when General Hull came there as governor of the territory, it is possible that the ruin which he found was occasioned by the same spirit of revenge.
During the succeeding years, Detroit was again one of the points towards which an unpropitious fate pointed a finger. The Indians, still believing that the Americans were driving them from their land, were making preparations to attack the settlements, led on by the powerful influence of the two chiefs, Tecumseh and the Prophet.
At a grand council the assembled tribes were told, according to the policy of these chiefs, that the Great Spirit had appeared to chief Tront and had told him that He was the father of the English, French, Spaniards and Indians, but that the Americans were the sons of the Evil One! Under such influence the uprising which resulted in the war between Great Britain and the United States began.
When General Brock, seconded by Tecumseh,marched on Detroit, he requested of the Chief, in case the place was taken, that the inhabitants should be spared massacre, to which the haughty savage replied, "that he despised them too much to have anything to do with them." The result of this attack, and the inexplicable conduct of General Hull, had aroused a strong feeling of disgust, and universal sympathy was felt for those brave men, who, upon hearing that their superior officer was surrendering without an attempt at resistance, "dashed their muskets upon the ground in an agony of mingled shame and indignation."
Victories elsewhere finally obliged the British to evacuate, and on the eighteenth of October, General Harrison and Commodore Perry issued a proclamation from this fort, which once more assured the people of Michigan of protection.
Passing through the test of fire and sword, Detroit has gradually progressed in all those ways which go to make up a great and prosperous city. Fulfilling her natural destiny she has become one of the most important commercial centres in the United States, and as a port of entry can boast with reason of her strength. The narrow lanes which were enclosed within the pickets of Fort Ponchartrain, and trodden by men in the French uniform, in English red coats and in the skins of the deer and beaver, have reached out over many miles, and have become an intricate maze of streets and avenues, lined with homes and business houses which bear no trace of the old time block house and trader's cabin.
Here and there, where history is preserved, one finds a few relics of the "dead past" embalmed in paint or print or labelled within the glass case of a museum;but the present Detroit is interesting enough without these. In every direction it is brightened by parks and adorned by fountains; and the broad avenues lined by generous borders of grass and shaded by cool lines of trees, are something for Americans to be proud of, especially when they recall the fact that "Johnny Crapeau" once asserted that this particular corner of the new world belonged to the Grande Monarque; and "John Bull" in turn claimed it for his own.
One of the prettiest parts of the city, and perhaps within the possibility of description, is the Campus Martius. On it stands the suggestive if somewhat unusual monument designed by Randolph Rogers and erected by the city at a cost of sixty thousand dollars. The surmounting figure is that of an Indian maiden representing the State, and on the tablet beneath, the inscription tells us that it was placed there "in honor of the martyrs who fell and the heroes who fought in defence of Liberty and Union." Everywhere are evidences of a high appreciation of beauty and comfort, and if the people of Detroit are sometimes tempted to seek a change and rest on some of the little island resorts of the river, or on Lake St. Clair, it is not because their own homes are unattractive. Some one has said, "if places could speak, they would describe people far better than people can describe places," and this is especially true of this great city. It is impossible by words to do it justice. The public buildings, the thronged streets, the busy harbor, the shady avenues, must be seen to be appreciated, and there are very few places which will justify praise and repay expectation more liberally than this splendid City of the Strait.
Inkster House,
Inkster, Michigan,
August 4, 1876.
Having before me a lecture appointment at Ypsilanti, which, considering the object I had in view through Michigan, I felt must be met, I rode out of Detroit at three o'clock in the afternoon, somewhat reluctantly perhaps, but within a very short time the love of travel was again upon me, and I found myself easily reconciled.Paulbeing in the most delightful spirits, after four days of unbroken rest, displayed quite a little animation as I mounted him in front of the residence of friends on Cass Avenue, and when we had reached the open country, I gave him the rein and allowed him to trot or gallop, as he felt inclined. The edge of his impatience having worn off, he resumed his habitual easy canter which made the saddle so enjoyable, and at this pace we covered fourteen miles, reaching our destination a few minutes after six o'clock. There was an agreeable if not decided contrast betweenthe last stopping-place and the present one. A hundred towers announced the approach to a great city, as we neared Detroit; but here a solitary spire rose against the sky, and while the Detroit River teems, throughout its entire length with water-craft of all sorts, the almost unknown little river that winds along between Detroit and Inkster, is at this point as quiet as one of the untravelled streams of the North. The Michigan Central Railway follows its shore for many miles, and as I kept to the highway in the same direction, I could see it shining occasionally through an opening in the trees. The waters of this river are no doubt full of fish, as are all the streams of Michigan, and they have besides a fine characteristic—a sparkling clearness.
Hawkins House,
Ypsilanti, Michigan,
August Fifth.
A forbidding sky hung over Inkster as I took my seat in the saddle at ten o'clock, but "Forward" was the watchword, and there was moreover a charm in variety, for sunny skies had become rather monotonous and, under the circumstances, uncomfortable. The dust was well laid when we had gone only a short distance, but it rose again in a new form asPaulquickened his pace, so that we did not present a very dashing appearance to the Ypsilantians, after sixteen miles of such travel.
A SUMMER AFTERNOON.A SUMMER AFTERNOON.
Several times I was obliged to turn from the road, once taking shelter under a tree and again in a woodshed. There were in town, however, those who couldexcuse the appearance of a bespattered traveller—brave men who had gone from Ypsilanti in the early days of the Rebellion, and who had learned from long campaigning to look upon their comrades without criticism. The brave Fourteenth Infantry started out from here under Colonel Robert Sinclair, and joining Sherman in Georgia took a lively part in all the movements of his army, until the fall of Atlanta; numbering among their proudest achievements the repulse of the enemy at Bentonville, North Carolina, where the hurriedly constructed works of the Federals were charged and taken and then regained at the point of the bayonet; and their part in the battle of Jonesboro, Georgia, in 1864, which was the last of Sherman's brilliant operations around Atlanta. Many of these brave fellows perished on the field of battle, but enough remain to keep fresh the memory of those stirring days and to add the influence of their patriotism to the young Ypsilanti.
Hawkins House,
Ypsilanti, Michigan,
August Sixth.
On the previous evening I met a large number of men of the town, who gave me a hearty welcome, and as many of them were old soldiers, they expressed their satisfaction with the purpose of my lecture, favoring me with considerable enthusiasm in Union Hall.
The patriots of Michigan have many proud deeds to tell of, and are distinguished for their gallant service.Their military leaders were invariably zealous, and their civil leaders unceasing in their encouragement. "We cannot consent to have one star obliterated from our flag" was the sentiment, and with the saving of the Union at heart, the men went into battle.
During Wheeler's repulse at Strawberry Plains in August, 1864, eight Michigan men were left to guard McMillan's Ford on the Halston. One of these, knowing the danger of his position, deserted, leaving his seven companions to "hold the fort." This handful kept back a brigade under the Confederate general almost four hours, but the Rebels crossed above and below the ford and captured the guard. One of their number, a farrier, was wounded, and Wheeler coming up to him began a conversation. Finally Wheeler said, "Are all the Tenth Michigan like you fellows?" "Oh, no," said the other, "we are mostly horse farriers and blacksmiths and not much accustomed to fighting." "Well," said Wheeler, "if I had three hundred such men as you, I could march straight through h—l!"
McKune House,Chelsea, Michigan,August Seventh.
Left Ypsilanti bright and early in order to save time, for although nearly the middle of August, I still felt the intense heat, and the dry dusty roads often made my daily journeys far from agreeable. For several days the mercury ranged between 85° and 90°, and as the route was at this time due west, the sun nearly stared me out of countenance in the afternoon.Ann Arbor was reached about ten o'clock, but I did not take more than a passing glance at the University, noticing, however, that women as well as men were among the students—a recent and wise change in the law of the institution. The people were raising a flag over one of the buildings as I rode through, and on it in conspicuous letters were the names of Tilden and Hendricks.
Delhi, with no signs of a Lalla Rookh, and Scio, modest under the dignity of its suggestive Latin name, were quaint landmarks along my way, but I rode on a mile beyond to have dinner at Dexter. The Huron River has its source near here, in one of a cluster of lakelets, bordering on Livingstone and Washtenaw counties. All Michigan is covered with these small bodies of water, which, with the streams, lie upon its green surface like pearls in a network of silver.
Leaving Dexter, I had company all the way to Chelsea. Large flocks of sparrows flew along, lighting upon the telegraph wires, and as I approached they would fly away and settle again farther along, keeping up a kind of race, which was evidently fun for them, and which greatly amused me. It seemed as though they were tireless, and when I and my horse reached our destination fatigued, after twenty-six miles of travel in the sun, these strong-winged fellows were ready for another flight. I do not doubt that they easily accomplished the return journey, for we cannot compute the distance they can cover in a day. They are hardy little fellows and, despite the objections urged against them, have many admirable qualities, not the least among which is their tenacity of purpose.
Hurd House,Jackson, Michigan,August Eighth.
A few minutes after seven in the morning found me in the saddle at Chelsea. I stopped on my way at theHeraldoffice and then struck off towards the main road, along which I cantered to Grass Lake, where I had dinner and remained until three o'clock. This rest was thoroughly enjoyed, the more so perhaps, as I learned before leaving Chelsea that if my advance agents had not made arrangements for me elsewhere, the people would have asked me to lecture here. In that event I should not have been so familiar with the quiet charms of Grass Lake.
Probably there are those who, if they had been in my place, would have denied themselves these halts along the way, but they would have been deprived of a double gratification. In the first place they would miss much of the character of the country through which they passed, the real difference in the manners and customs of the people; and they would miss the opportunity of assuring the credulous that they were not making a test ride across the continent within a certain time and for a certain reward.
News often travels incredibly fast when there are no evident means of communication, and I was often amused by the curiosity which my advent excited and the reasons which were whispered about in the villages through which I passed, as to the object of my journey. Indeed many Michiganders, from quiethaunts in their native wilds, made short pilgrimages "to town" in order to look at one whom they fancied might hold a proud place for having crossed the continent in so many days, hours and seconds. My horse even was looked upon with awe, as "the charger upon which General Washington rode during the war of the Revolution!" But this anachronism belongs to New York.
Leaving Grass Lake late in the afternoon, it was necessary to make better time in order to cover the remainder of the twenty three miles lying between Chelsea and Jackson. The pace quickened. I came into the latter city at six o'clock, and rode directly to the hotel.
Hurd House,
Jackson, Michigan,