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Eightieth Day

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.

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 the fund 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.

CHAPTER XVII.
FOUR DAYS AT DETROIT

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 was proud 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.

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 the spring 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 where the 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 be seen. 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, commanding as 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, they came 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, on account 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 the room 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 lightly replied 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 November he 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 the present 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.