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 "The Paul Revere of the West" 
 
 Address of 
 
 Mr. Joseph F. Tuttle, Jr. 
 
 of Colorado. 
 
 Amusements in Detroit in 
 Colonial Days 
 
 Paper of 
 
 Mr. Clarence M. Burton 
 
 of Detroit. 
 
 Patriotism 
 
 Address by 
 
 Rev. Sar^vM^. JJfSwuis, D. D. 
 
 Deliverecfe'at theV-Anrlual EHnner of the 
 
 •»v - . v 
 
 Society^of^Colorrial Wars 
 
 May Seventh, Nineteen Hundred Nine 
 
 at the Detroit Club 
 Detroit, Mich. 
 

 
"The Paul Revere of the West" 
 
 Address of 
 
 Mr. Joseph F. Tuttle, Jr. 
 
 of Colorado. 
 
 Amusements in Detroit in 
 Colonial Days 
 
 Paper of 
 
 Mr. Clarence M. Burton 
 
 of Detroit. 
 
 Patriotism 
 
 Address by 
 
 Rev. Samuel S. Marquis, D. D. 
 
 Delivered at the Annual Dinner of the 
 Society of Colonial Wars 
 
 May Seventh, Nineteen Hundred Nine 
 
 at the Detroit Club 
 Detroit, Mich. 
 
Speak er-H ines Press 
 Detroit 
 
 -. j- 
 
 % < * c £ 
 
 
ADDRESS OF TOASTMASTER 
 
 Toastmaster Pendleton : Members of the 
 Colonial Wars in the State of Michigan. This 
 society is no exception to the rule, that behind every 
 successful organization there stands the inspiration 
 of a personality. To no one does this society owe 
 so much for its existence and its continued prosperity 
 as to Theodore Horatio Eaton. (Applause.) We 
 sympathize with him tonight in the bereavement that 
 has made his presence impossible. Indeed we have, 
 each of us, lost a friend in the death of Dr. Clark. 
 Few men had the clairvoyant insight to see that 
 which is best in every other man. But few men gave 
 so generously of a high and noble friendship. His 
 life passed quietly, serenely among us, like the flow- 
 ing of an even river glinted by the sunlight, a bless- 
 ing to mankind, reflecting the image of heaven. 
 
 There is another name that will always be asso- 
 ciated with that of Dr. Clark when we meet around 
 this table, for this place is gathering, not only asso- 
 ciations of festivity and social life, but also sacred 
 associations. We shall never meet here without 
 recalling the magnificent physique and the cultured 
 mind of Alfred Russell, as he stood here, when the 
 thunderbolt was hurled from the hand of Jove and 
 he fell 
 
 "As falls on Mount Olympus, a thunder-stricken oak, 
 Far o'er the crashing forest, its giant arms lie spread, 
 And the pale waters muttering low, gaze on the stricken 
 head." 
 
 It is with a sense of relief and with joy that 
 tonight we turn our faces toward the West. In- 
 deed, until within a few years ago, our gaze was so 
 steadily fixed upon the East that our necks were 
 
 5 
 
becoming awry, and it was almost with a sense of 
 pain that we brought ourselves to turn our faces 
 toward the hills whence we realize that our help 
 has come. For we are beginning to appreciate that 
 as the spirit of the colonies in the early days aroused 
 the lethargy of the conservative governments of 
 Europe, so now the spirit of the western land is 
 arousing the conservatism of our own eastern 
 country. Even here in Detroit, the water that flows 
 by our doors comes from the snow-capped hills of 
 the Rockies. Through deep subterranean channels 
 passes along that tremendous flood of water that 
 supplies the tideless and unsalted seas that are 
 always full to the brim but never overflow. Perhaps 
 the associations of some of us with this mountainous 
 region, from which our honored guest has come 
 tonight, are only connected with commercial matters, 
 possibly with stockholders' meetings : first a mine, 
 then a miner, and then a minus. (Laughter.) But. 
 unless history shall fail to repeat itself, the Citadel 
 of Liberty and Freedom in this country will be 
 where the mountain air keeps the blood red and 
 where Heaven is nearest to earth. In the old 
 patriarchal days, it was rather a hazardous thing 
 for a man to come into the city of the plains. We 
 trust that our honored guest tonight will escape the 
 fire and the brimstone, and we would suggest that 
 on his return, he take a Pullman, with his seat look- 
 ing forward, lest he may, perchance, be overtaken 
 by the unfortunate fate that fell to the retrospective 
 Mrs. Lot. (Laughter.) 
 
 It is with peculiar pleasure we have as our honored 
 guest tonight, a man who is well known among the 
 patriotic societies in this country; and we are to be 
 addressed this evening upon the subject, "The Paul 
 Revere of the West." I take great pleasure in intro- 
 ducing Mr. Joseph F. Tuttle, Jr. of Colorado. 
 ( Applause. ) 
 
THE PAUL REVERE OF THE WEST" 
 
 Address of 
 
 Mr. Joseph F. Tuttle, Jr. 
 
 or Colorado. 
 
 Mr. Tuttle: Mr. Toastmaster and Members of 
 the Society of Colonial Wars in the State of Mich- 
 igan. You will permit me, gentlemen, to express 
 my most profound sense of the honor you have 
 conferred, in asking me to be present with you this 
 evening. I greatly appreciate it; as I did the kind 
 words of Mr. Eaton, Mr. Fyfe and Mr. Bates at 
 the Buffalo Congress of the Sons of the American 
 Revolution last April. And I much appreciate the 
 many attentions and courtesies you have extended 
 to him who is literally a stranger within the gates of 
 your city; indeed, it seems if one more were ex- 
 tended, it would be a sort of last straw, or perhaps, 
 the last feather old Father Peter Cartwright alluded 
 to in one of his great revival services. As we all 
 know, he was a powerful exhorter, and would 
 occasionally get the power. He had in one of his 
 congregations a good sister, so-called, in the bond 
 of christian courtesy, who was an equally famous 
 exhortress, and she would occasionally get the 
 power. When they got the power together in the 
 same service, Bedlam was just let loose. One night 
 as they were in a neck and neck race for the rhe- 
 torical honors of the evening, the good sister closed 
 an unusually fervent appeal, with a look of triumph 
 at her rival in the pulpit, by shouting out "Oh, if I 
 had just one more feather in the wings of my 
 faith, I would fly away tonight and be at rest with 
 
my Lord." And old Father Cartwright shouted out, 
 from the pulpit, at the top of his voice, "Stick in that 
 other feather, Lord, and let her go." (Laughter.) 
 
 Emerson has this very striking remark, gentle- 
 men, that the best history, that true history is 
 biography; that men are but the pages of history, 
 and in that sense, I dearly love the study of our 
 American history. In dwelling so much upon these 
 historical and biographical subjects, I am sometimes 
 afraid that the same fate may overtake me which 
 Mr. Lincoln said overtook a certain lawyer friend 
 of his in Illinois. They had been very stubbornly 
 contesting a certain case in the law courts of the 
 8th District, and when the time came for submitting 
 the arguments to the jury, Mr. Lincoln arose and 
 said, "Gentlemen of the Jury, for reasons which are 
 deplorable, as they are surprising, every time my 
 friend on the opposite side of this case opens his 
 mouth to talk, all his mental operations cease at 
 once. And Gentlemen," said he, "the only thing 
 with which my friend's lamentable condition can be 
 compared, is a little steamboat that used to ply in 
 the early 30s on the Sangamon River, when I was 
 performing my part as a common keel flatboat man 
 on that river. This little boat used to wheeze and 
 snort up and down the river. It had a five-foot 
 boiler, and a seven foot whistle, and every time it 
 whistled, it stopped." (Laughter.) Now, there 
 will be much whistling and blowing here tonight, 
 but we will endeavor to keep moving. 
 
 This last winter, you will indulge me to say, I 
 crossed over every pass of the Rocky Mountains, 
 from the beautiful Glorietta Pass on the south in 
 New Mexico, to the famous historic South Pass on 
 the north, in Wyoming, crossing the mountains 
 some fifteen or sixteen times ; and so I have come 
 to you with all the fervor of spirit, with all the 
 imagination, with all the color that I could possibly 
 absorb for this little story you shall hear tonight. 
 During that time, I often traversed the old Santa Fe 
 trail, and the old Utah and California trails on the 
 
Western Slope, until a few days ago, I stood on the 
 old Fort Hall Reservation in Idaho; — Fort Hall, the 
 most important of all the Hudson Bay Company's 
 outposts, and the place where that Company, with its 
 muskrat skins, and beaver skins, made its last stand 
 in its great fight with the United States for the su- 
 premacy of the country from the Rocky Mountains 
 to the Pacific Ocean. As I say, I stood there, where 
 four great historic trails merge into one. You can 
 see them on this map. First there was the great 
 historic trail of Capt. Hunt of the John Jacob Astor 
 expedition of 1810; second the great Capt. Bonne- 
 ville trail of 1831; third, the great Oregon Trail of 
 1840, and then, fourth, the John C. Fremont explor- 
 ing expedition of 1843. They are all marked upon 
 this map issued by the Interior Department. I 
 followed them for 300 miles along the Snake River, 
 and up the beautiful Boise Valley, ever hearing the 
 music of the union of the old trails, ever touching 
 elbows and keeping step with those great empire- 
 builders of the West, till at last, the old trails dis- 
 appeared in the mists of the Blue mountains in 
 Oregon. I had then traversed over a large part of 
 that great historic trail, the greatest of all trails of 
 the Northwest, over which the Paul Revere of the 
 West came spurring out of the north one day in 
 the autumn of 1842, with a letter in his hand that 
 must be delivered post-haste to 1 Garcia. 
 
 Virgil sang of Arms and the Man. I tonight, of 
 the Man only. And now, let him this evening only 
 be known as the Man. He will make good every 
 royal attribute of a man. In 1836, this Man had 
 been sent out by a certain religious society in Boston, 
 under the auspices of the American Board of Foreign 
 Missions, to the far northwest as a missionary. On 
 the 3rd day of October, 1842, he was sitting, a soli- 
 tary American guest at the annual feast of the Hud- 
 son Bay Company at Fort Walla Walla, now in the 
 State of Washington. As the festivities were in 
 progress that day a courier suddenly dashed up to 
 the door, from Fort Colville, 300 miles away, with 
 
 9 
 
this announcement, that an English colony of 140 
 persons was then on its way up the Columbia River 
 to found a settlement upon the Columbia, and so 
 hold all that country of the Northwest for England ; 
 as you know, all that country was held in a joint 
 title of occupancy between the years 1818 and 1816 
 by England and the United States, it being a tacit 
 understanding between the two nations that emigra- 
 tion would eventually settle the question. In the 
 moment following that announcement, a young 
 English priest jumped to his feet, and excitedly 
 shouted, "Hurrah! We have now got the country, 
 America is too late." But then you should have 
 seen the sudden transformation in this humble 
 missionary of the Cross, as with eyes snapping with 
 righteous anger, and cheeks flushed with indignation, 
 he pushed himself back from the table, at the first 
 convenient unobserved moment, and in two hours' 
 time had pulled up his foam-flecked pony before his 
 cabin door twenty-five miles away; shouted out the 
 English plot before he had dismounted, and his 
 determination to at once set out on horseback, and 
 inform Daniel Webster of the English plot. None 
 could dissuade him, he must go. He said that the 
 Webster-Ashburton Treaty was pending before the 
 Senate, and that the question must be settled before 
 Congress adjourned on the 4th of March. "Even if 
 the American Board dismiss me, I shall do all I 
 can to save the Northwest to the Union" were his 
 last words, as within twenty-four hours he swung 
 himself into the saddle and galloped down the trail 
 for Washington and Daniel Webster, home and wife 
 behind him, winter, four thousand miles as he was 
 to ride, and the Rocky Mountains, before him. 
 
 With Gen. Amos Love joy, a nephew of the dis- 
 tinguished Amos Lawrence of Boston, and his 
 Indian guides, he bounded over the trail through 
 Fort Hall. At Fort Hall he took a southeasterly 
 direction, and finally came to what is known as 
 Fort Bridger, about fifty miles south of the present 
 City of Evanston, Wyoming. Then he crossed the 
 
 10 
 
' — "•' • ' ' — : — ' " '" 
 
 The start from the Columbia. "The Man" on the right. 
 
Uintah Mountains, and finally came to Fort Uintah 
 in the extreme northeast corner of Utah, and then 
 crossed over the line into that enchanted country — 
 you will pardon me gentlemen for saying I love, — 
 Colorado. (Applause.) Then he followed down 
 the Grand River Valley, covered then with deep 
 snow, until he came to the junction of the Eagle and 
 the Grand Rivers. As I was many times this winter 
 at that place, I wondered why the man did not pro- 
 ceed in an easterly direction up the Eagle instead 
 of following the Grand River. If he had done that, 
 and come out over Tennessee pass, and then into 
 that beautiful plain where the City of Leadville is, 
 he would have found the headwaters of the Arkansas 
 River, and then, following that river down through 
 the broad open country until it narrows in the Royal 
 Gorge, to about twenty-five feet, would have come 
 to Bent's Fort, which was his objective point. But 
 he did not do this, and kept following this south- 
 easterly direction down the Grand River until he 
 crossed the river near where the present City of 
 Grand Junction, in Colorado, is. He found that 
 river running with an angry current of eighteen 
 hundred feet wide, and full of ice cakes. He dis- 
 mounted, cut a stout sapling, and then mounting 
 the old lead animal of the pack train, ordered Gen. 
 Love joy and his guides to push him into that angry 
 current, and they did so. He was completely sub- 
 merged for a few seconds, but rising to the surface, 
 commenced the battle for life out in the middle of 
 that river, as he pushed away the floating ice-cakes 
 from his faithful horse as he was breasting that 
 strong current, until finally he reached the other side, 
 jumped upon the icy bank, and then with his stick 
 broke a channel through the ice, through which he 
 led his horse safely up the bank. Then he still keeps 
 up this southeasterly direction, following up the 
 Gunnison River to the place where Delta, Colorado, 
 now is ; and there, leaving the Gunnison, followed up 
 the Uncompahgre River, and up the beautiful Un- 
 compahgre valley where are now Delta, Olathe and 
 
 11 
 
Montrose ; and still 12 miles beyond the place where 
 Montrose now is, to old Fort Uncompahgre. He 
 then crossed over the great Divide, still following 
 this southeasterly course, was lost for ten days in 
 Hinsdale County wandering helplessly through the 
 deep snow, unable to extricate himself ; and one day 
 was shut up in a box canon all day, and the party 
 actually gave itself up for lost, and sat like sheeted 
 spectres on their horses, calmly awaiting death. 
 Suddenly the old Mexican guide noticed the peculiar 
 twitching of one of the pack mule's ears, and thor- 
 oughly understanding the mule nature, he told this 
 Man that the old mule had a wireless to deliver; 
 they took that wireless, and it was this: "Take off 
 my packs and give me my head, and if I live, I 
 will get you out of this." And they took off the 
 old fellow's packs, gave him his head, and then the 
 old mule commenced to flounder through the snow. 
 Finally he led them along the edges of rocky 
 precipices, and through steep defiles, until at one 
 place, the most unexpected to every one of the party, 
 the old mule made a straight plunge down the steep 
 mountain bank, and in a little while — and all this. 
 Gentlemen, upon the written statement of General 
 Lovejoy — led the party safely back to the smoking 
 embers of their morning camp fire. 
 
 The rebellion of this Man's guide, at this critical 
 juncture, who absolutely refused to proceed any 
 farther, as he said that the deep snows had com- 
 pletely obliterated all his knowledge of the country; 
 an extra ride for this Man over the trail back to 
 Fort Uncompahgre for another guide, a journey of 
 seven days to go, and eight or nine days to return, 
 leaving General Lovejoy alone upon the mountains, 
 to care for the animals, as best he could. General 
 Lovejoy's sole companion during these eighteen or 
 nineteen days of this Man's absence, was a faithful 
 little dog, that had thrown in its fortunes with the 
 party on the trail. And the General speaks of thh 
 little dog cuddling under the blankets at night as if 
 in an endeavor to keep his master warm. But it is 
 
 12 
 
pitiful to read, that in a few days after this, General 
 Love joy was so pressed with hunger, as his friend 
 did not return, that he was obliged to kill and eat 
 that faithful little dog. Finally the Man returned 
 and the party kept on in a southeasterly direction 
 until they came to the country which was made 
 tragic, five years later, by that terrible catastrophe 
 which happened to John C. Fremont and his explor- 
 ing expedition of 1848, where so many of his men 
 were frozen to death ; then still in a southeasterly 
 direction, and here is the secret of it. He had heard 
 at Fort Walla Walla, before he started, or some- 
 where on the trail, of the desirability of finding the 
 headwaters of the Rio Grande del Norte River, and 
 he finally found them in what is now Rio Grande 
 County in Colorado. He then followed that river 
 down through the country where are now Creede 
 and Wagon Wheel Gap, and came out into the 
 beautiful San Luis Valley, still following the banks 
 of the river until he crossed into New Mexican 
 territory, and then on to Fort Taos, and finally sixty- 
 five miles farther south, to Santa Fe, hoping by that 
 long detour of a thousand miles, to get in touch 
 with some eastern outfit for safe journey across the 
 plains, which he heard were infested with bands of 
 hostile Indians. Disappointed in this, this Man then 
 took the old Santa Fe trail, which commenced there 
 at Santa Fe, and doubled back into Colorado, or 
 rather, what is now Colorado, coming into Colorado 
 that second time about where the City of Trinidad 
 now is. On the 29th of December — this was in 
 1842 — he met George Bent on the trail, one of the 
 famous Bent brothers, who had built Bent's Fort on 
 the Arkansas River in 1828. Bent informed him 
 that a large party of mountaineers were to leave 
 Bent's Fort for the Missouri River in a few days, 
 and if he would get in touch with them, he 
 must hurry on with his fleetest horse, and leave 
 General Lovejoy to follow with the packs. He did 
 so, and then this Man disappeared for seven days, as 
 completely as if he had been swallowed up by the 
 
 13 
 
earth. He was lost and alone somewhere on the 
 mountains between the sites of the present cities of 
 Trinidad and Pueblo. He finally emerged from his 
 wanderings, picked up the old Santa Fe trail he had 
 lost a few days before, and then followed the trail 
 down the north bank of the Arkansas River until 
 he came to Bent's Fort. 
 
 Bent's Fort, what a magic name it was in those 
 days of the 30s and the 40s! It was the residence 
 of Francis P. Blair for two years, the same Francis 
 P. Blair who ran for Vice-President on the ticket 
 with Horatio Seymour in 1868. It was the favorite 
 rendezvous of such choice spirits of the western trails 
 as Kit Carson, who was its official hunter for eight 
 years; of old Parson Bill Williams, who was 
 Fremont's scout in Hinsdale County, when Fremont 
 lost so many men in his disastrous expedition of 
 1848, and Oliver P. Wiggins of Denver, now in the 
 89th year of his age, whom I have the great pleasure 
 to know, and who has told me many times of those 
 days. Much of the color you are getting tonight, 
 comes from the lips of Oliver P. Wiggins, and not 
 from books. One day in the Denver Post Office, 
 where Mr. Wiggins, a few years ago, was a special 
 policeman, without my leading up to it at all, he told 
 me that in the winter of 1843 he heard that a man 
 rode across the Rocky Mountains to Washington, 
 and that that ride, in the middle of the winter, was 
 the talk of all the mountain and plains men. 
 
 Bent's Fort was built 185 feet on the ground. Its 
 walls were eighteen feet high, and four feet thick. 
 I have a little picture of it here; you will perhaps 
 enjoy seeing it later. The walls were four feet thick 
 and looped all around for musketry. Three little 
 cannons were planted on the bastions of Bent's Fort, 
 and from the diary of John Fremont I get this little 
 dash of color; — he says that "On the first day of 
 July, 1844, we came to Bent's Fort, and as we 
 emerged from the cottonwoods on the banks of the 
 river, they ran up the flag on the staff of the Fort," 
 and then these three little cannons barked out their 
 
 14 
 

 Kit. Carson. 
 
noisy welcome to Fremont and his party of 1844. 
 
 An amusing story is told by Col. Ingham that at 
 one time in the 30s Old Wolf, the big Chief of the 
 Comanche Indians, came to Bent's Fort with several 
 hundred of his Indian braves, to visit his friends the 
 Bent brothers, or in other words, to stay just as long 
 as the Bent larder lasted. One night, the roystering 
 spirits of the fort got Old Wolf in the fort, got him 
 drunk, and then, not to be outdone in the courtesies 
 which should exist between host and guests, they 
 proceeded to put themselves on a level with their 
 distinguished guest, and got drunk themselves. In 
 the wild orgies of the night, some one put some 
 blank cartridges in those three little cannons and 
 fired them off, pointing them at the Indian tepees 
 outside. The Indians, thoroughly frightened, 
 scampered away, and returning at midnight, com- 
 pletely invested the fort and clamored loudly for the 
 immediate release of Old Wolf. Then those fellows 
 in the Fort realized their predicament very quickly 
 and sobered up; and they hoisted Old Wolf up on 
 the parapet, propped him up, as he was too far 
 gone to be of any material assistance to himself, and 
 then ordered him to make a speech to his assembled 
 braves outside, in which he told them that he was 
 "Never heaper all right, never heaper happier in all 
 his life, and for them to go back to their tepees, and 
 mind their own business." 
 
 I can imagine this Man galloping up to Bent's 
 Fort that night of January 6th, 1843, almost the only 
 night he was to sleep under a roof since he had 
 entered what is now Colorado the preceding 
 November. And I can further see him that night 
 standing in one of the great compartments in the 
 ruddy blaze of the fire-logs on the hearth, and 
 thrilling his auditors of scouts, of soldiers, of officers 
 and of Indians, with his story, how he is riding hard 
 to save the northwest to the Union; how he swam 
 the Grand River ; how he was lost for ten days upon 
 the mountains, in what is now Hinsdale County, 
 Colorado; and the hearts of his auditors are glow- 
 
 15 
 
ing with love of their country, as they hear that 
 story, for the brave mountaineering element in 
 history and in Colorado has always been "on the 
 side of the right and of the Union." And then I 
 can see them the next morning, crowding to the old 
 wooden gates to wish this Man Godspeed upon his 
 journey. 
 
 Bent's Fort ! half way! three months in the saddle ! 
 his companion General Lovejoy and all his guides 
 broken down and left behind from the terrible 
 exposure of the mountains. On the morning of 
 January 7th, 1843 — for he stayed at Bent's Fort but 
 one night — this Paul Revere of the West took the 
 trail alone, and came flying up through the country 
 where Las Animas, Granada and Holly, Fort Aub- 
 rey, Dodge City, Hutchinson and Great Bend now 
 are; and then finally to Westport on the Missouri 
 River, now a suburb of Kansas City, where he reeled 
 off the last of the eight hundred and twenty-five 
 miles of the old Santa Fe Trail. As he had come into 
 the settlements, he had commenced to distribute little 
 rude circulars of this wonderful Eldorado of the 
 Northwest, "Good wagon road over the mountains," 
 and in such enthusiasm passed through St. Louis, 
 and then on to Washington, where it is said he 
 arrived on the afternoon of March 3rd, 1843, 
 exactly five months from that day when he had 
 spurred down the valley from Fort Walla Walla. 
 
 When Daniel Webster said "Come in" that after- 
 noon, in response to the knock at his office door, 
 there walked in a man enveloped in a great Buffalo 
 overcoat, with a great buffalo overhood attached, in 
 which he had slept for fifty nights in the snow 
 before his camp fire, in crossing the Rocky 
 mountains, and his first words were : "Mr. Webster, 
 what of the treaty?" "Why Man," — said Daniel 
 Webster — "the treaty, it was signed two months 
 before you set out. It was proclaimed the law of 
 the land while you were lost on the mountains, and 
 besides, the Northwest was not mentioned in the 
 Webster-Ashburton Treaty." What a staggering 
 
 16 
 
"Bent's Fort, Colorado, on the Arkansas, built in 1828.' 
 
blow that was ! But this Man parried it by dashing 
 around Washington as he had done over the 
 mountains and up the Santa Fe Trail. President 
 John Tyler and his Secretary, Daniel Webster, be- 
 came infected with this Man's enthusiasm; and to 
 me, the one supreme psychological moment of the 
 whole history of the Northwest was that day, when 
 this Man, dressed in his blue duffle coat, a coat, you 
 know, made out of a closely woven Mackinaw blan- 
 ket, with fur undergarments, buckskin breeches, fur 
 leggings and boot moccasins, and face gridironed all 
 over with the terrible frosts of the mountains, stood 
 before John Tyler, President, and his Secretary, 
 Daniel Webster, in the White House, and with 
 passionate eloquence pleaded with them to save the 
 Northwest to the Union. Just at this very critical 
 moment, Mr. Webster met the British Minister one 
 day on the streets of Washington ; and this Minister, 
 no doubt, having been secretly informed by Sir 
 George Simpson, who was then Governor of the 
 Hudson Bay Company and was spending that 
 winter in Washington, of his intended sending of a 
 colony from the Red River Country in the British 
 Possessions down the Columbia, so as to form a 
 colony there, and hold all that country for England ; 
 this British Minister said to Mr. Webster: "Now 
 Mr. Webster, the shortest way out of this difficulty 
 is to let immigration settle the question." And 
 Daniel Webster said to him: "Sir, we will let 
 immigration settle this question." And then Daniel 
 Webster and John Tyler took this Man aside and 
 whispered into his frost-bitten ear : "If you will only 
 get your immigrants there by next fall, we will hold 
 the Northwest to the United States." And Daniel 
 Webster that very day sat down and paid the first 
 installment of this magnificent promise, as he wrote 
 to the British Minister in Washington, these exact 
 words : "England must not expect anything south 
 of the 49th parallel," which you know is the present 
 north line of the State of Washington. 
 
 17 
 
Then, this Man disappeared from Washington, 
 and the next that we hear of him is in Boston, where 
 he went to visit the religious society which had sent 
 him out as a missionary. Swimming the Grand 
 River, and fighting for life with the floating ice- 
 floes, was a hot bath, as compared with the chilly 
 reception it is said he received from that society 
 which said to him substantially : "We sent you to 
 the Northwest to save souls, not to save territory to 
 the United States." 
 
 No meet for a chase was ever called, which had 
 in it such magnetic charm as that June meet on the 
 banks of the Missouri River in 1843 at Westport. 
 This Man was there, organizing, over-seeing, and 
 electrifying. People were gathering from the 
 North, East and South. One man named Zachary 
 came clear from Texas, having received one of 
 those rude little circulars. The last wagon was 
 packed, and the canvas stretched over the great 
 hoops, a proud moment for this Man as he saw two 
 hundred wagons wheel into line, with eight hundred 
 and seventy-five immigrants and thirteen hundred 
 head of cattle and horses, all headed for the distant 
 Northwest. 
 
 Proceeding in detachments about ten days to two 
 weeks apart, so as to give an opportunity for the 
 grasses to spring up as forage for the detachments 
 to follow, they filed out of Westport on the old 
 Santa Fe Trail. This they followed for seventy-five 
 miles, until they came to a point now called 
 Waseruka on the Santa Fe Railroad, and there the 
 great trail forked. The southern fork was the one 
 up which he had galloped three months before, and 
 led directly down to Bent's Fort in Colorado; and 
 the north fork of that trail was the trail which has 
 been made classic in the history of the West by the 
 pen of Francis Parkman, as the great Oregon Trail. 
 You will recall how beautifully Eva Emery Dye has 
 written of this western movement to the sea; she 
 says: "Many a love was plighted on this long 
 march from the Missouri River to the sea. Buffalo 
 
 18 
 
'The Man" in the White House, before President Tyler and Daniel Webster 
 
hunters swept in from their raids, and scouts reported 
 from their Indian trails ; and there in that little com- 
 pany were future generals and governors and future 
 United States senators, eminent lawyers, physicians 
 and divines of the Northwest. There was McCarver, 
 who founded Burlington, Iowa; and afterwards 
 Sacramento, California; and then Tacoma, Wash- 
 ington. There in that little company was marching 
 Peter H. Burnett, the first Governor of California; 
 and there in that little company of Captain John C. 
 Fremont, which had been deputized by the United 
 States Government, as an escort, to see this train of 
 immigrants safely across the plains of Kansas and 
 Nebraska, was William Gilpin, the first Governor 
 of Colorado." 
 
 All the historians agree that in the last week of 
 June — this was in 1843 — these immigrants were 
 marching along the south fork of the North Platte 
 River, and that on the 7th July they crossed over 
 a distance of some 40 or 50 miles to follow the 
 North Platte up to Fort Laramie. And as if 
 Colorado could not keep herself out of this magic 
 chapter of the winning of the West, John C. 
 Fremont, with his little party, then followed down 
 the south fork of the North Platte River, on and on, 
 until in the words of his diary of 1843 he says : 
 "We camped at a little place just a few yards south 
 of where Cherry Creek empties itself into the Platte 
 River," a place which I have been assured by Mr. 
 Wiggins, the venerable scout I have alluded to, was 
 a little spring which was the favorite rendezvous of 
 John C. Fremont and Kit Carson and whose site I 
 have often visited, and is now in the heart of the 
 City of Denver. 
 
 Of all the difficulties which beset this Man on his 
 homeward ride with his immigrants that summer of 
 1843, none could be compared to the jealousies and 
 hatreds of the Hudson Bay Company, particularly 
 of Captain Grant and his associates at Fort Hall. 
 Rivers, snows, mountains, and ice floods were but 
 gentle mosquito irritations to the troubles these 
 
 19 
 
sharpers of the Hudson Bay Company gave him. 
 One of the historians — Barrows — mentions that a 
 curious feature of this Man's first trip over the 
 mountains in 1836, was an old wagon, which he 
 was determined to get through to the Pacific Coast, 
 to demonstrate to the people of the East the 
 feasibility of immigration over the Rocky Mountains. 
 Though the Hudson Bay Company, at that time, 
 were without a rival from the Rocky Mountains to 
 the Pacific, and were hardly less inferior to the 
 power on the throne, yet they fairly shook in their 
 shoes at the sight and sound of that old wagon! 
 It was dismembered, dragged piece by piece over 
 the old Trail, ingloriously dwindled to the dimen- 
 sions of a cart, the hind wheels loaded on and 
 carried as freight ; but through the indomitable will 
 of this Man, those wheels ever kept rolling towards 
 the Pacific, and finally arrived there in the spring of 
 1837. Bitterly the Hudson Bay Company at Fort 
 Hall now repented, so this historian says, of letting 
 that old wagon through seven years before; for now 
 here at the gates of Fort Hall and coming up the 
 dusty eastern trail from Fort Laramie, were two 
 hundred emigrant wagons; they argued with the 
 immigrants, persuaded, and threatened them, tried 
 to deflect them from the old Oregon trail, till it 
 seemed as if that long ride had been in vain, and 
 perhaps it would have been, had it not been for the 
 assuring presence of some friendly Indians who had 
 come to meet their old teacher and safely escort 
 him to his home. "And so" as the historian says 
 "these old wagons creaked and groaned, rolled and 
 tossed till they awoke welcoming echoes in the 
 canons of the Columbia." 
 
 There is a light over the Blue Mountains in 
 Oregon, and flying hoofs, with the music of the 
 Union in their beat, are striking fire upon the great 
 Oregon Trail, to light it up for those immigrants 
 who are following, the "Army of Occupation," 
 which saved all the Northwest to the Union. Again, 
 the sound of a horse's hoofs is striking upon the 
 
 20 
 
ear of an anxious and solicitous wife, and as a 
 reward for her patient waiting and watching at her 
 lone cabin door, as a reward for her noble sacrifice 
 of her husband to his country in that crisis of its 
 history, Marcus Whitman is riding from out the 
 shadow of the Blue Mountains, and is soon clasping 
 her in his arms, three months from the Missouri 
 River, and exactly eleven months to a day from the 
 day when he started from Fort Walla Walla on that 
 eastern ride. On that 3rd day of September, 1843, 
 Marcus Whitman brought his wife the first tidings 
 of himself since he had started away from his cabin 
 door on the 3rd day of October, 1842. 
 
 And now, what had he done? Just in a word, 
 gentlemen. He had unclutched the fingers of a 
 foreign power that had stretched out its long arm 
 over the sea, and had seized in one fell swoop, all 
 the country lying south of the present north line of 
 the State of Washington, clear down to the Columbia 
 River, and then, by a shadowy title that England 
 had set up, still farther south to the present north 
 line of the States of California, Nevada and Utah; 
 then eastward to take in twenty thousand square 
 miles of the State of Wyoming; then north along 
 the great Rocky Mountain range to the British 
 Possessions, and then west along the 49th parallel to 
 the sea, an area which comprises parts of the present 
 States of Montana, of Wyoming and all of the 
 States of Washington, Oregon and Idaho ; — an area 
 of over three hundred thousand square miles; six 
 times as large as your State of Michigan ; two and a 
 half times as large as Great Britain and Ireland com- 
 bined ; twice as large as our present colonial posses- 
 sions, huge as they are, Hawaii, Porto Rico and the 
 Philippines ; or to throw it in another form, an area 
 equal to Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Mass- 
 achusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, 
 New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, 
 Virginia, Ohio, Michigan, and one-half of Indiana 
 combined. And of that magnificent achievement, 
 Daniel Webster wrote to a friend in his later years : 
 
 21 
 
"Had it not been for Dr. Marcus Whitman and his 
 fellow missionaries, it is safe to say that all of the 
 great Oregon country would now be owned by 
 England and by the Hudson Bay Company." For 
 that splendid service to his country, Marcus Whit- 
 man and his faithful wife, Narcissa Prentiss Whit- 
 man, are sleeping tonight in martyrs' graves in that 
 far country, where Bryant says, "Rolls the Mighty 
 Oregon," horribly butchered and mutilated after his 
 return from that ride by members of his own 
 mission station, members of his own Sunday school, 
 who were fearful lest the great tide of immigration 
 he had evoked from the east, should drive them from 
 their hunting grounds. 
 
 And now, in these closing words let me say, 
 gentlemen, that as we are sitting here tonight 
 beneath the protecting folds of this dear old Flag, 
 this poem without words, this song without music, 
 this benediction ever upon us without the laying on 
 of hands, all of the stars are shining brightly tonight 
 in its blue field, but six of them, to me, with 
 peculiarly sparkling lustre; — Oregon the 33rd, 
 Colorado the 38th, that State that had put those 
 fiery frost scars on the face of Marcus Whitman as 
 her special brand-royal of a hero and a patriot; 
 Montana the 41st, Washington the 42nd, Idaho the 
 43rd, Wyoming the 44th, and soon it is thought to 
 be the star of a new State, to be formed out of the 
 fifty thousand extra square miles of the old Oregon 
 country in the western part of Montana, in the north 
 corner of Idaho, and in the eastern part of Wash- 
 ington, with Spokane as its capital, and to be called 
 by the magic name of Lincoln ; — each of those five 
 stars of the Northwest, set in the firmament home 
 of the old Flag by this Paul Revere of the West 
 who rode across the Rocky Mountains in dead of 
 winter, with a letter in his hand superscribed 
 "Daniel Webster, Secretary of State, Washington, 
 District of Columbia," and down in the corner these 
 magic words — Oh ! I love to think of them even in 
 
 22 
 
fancy — "Via Colorado!" (Long continued 
 
 applause. ) 
 
 Mr. Bates: I want to say a word right here 
 I went to the Denver Congress two years ago, and 
 heard this magnificent story of the conquest of the 
 Northwest to the Union delivered by our most 
 distinguished guest, whom we asked to come here 
 for the benefit of this Society, and it gives me great 
 pleasure to know and hear him tonight ; and I move 
 that the thanks of this Society be tendered to our 
 very distinguished friend, by rising. 
 
 Toastmaster : You have heard the motion. All 
 in favor please express it by rising. 
 
 Mr. Tuttle : I thank you very much, gentlemen. 
 
 Toastmaster: We shall never forget Marcus 
 Whitman, and I am sure, we will never forget our 
 honored guest, Mr. Tuttle. (Applause.) I can 
 only faintly express our gratitude that he can be 
 with us tonight. 
 
 It was Voltaire who said "Mankind had lost their 
 title deeds, Montesquieu recovered and restored 
 them." You will not think that mention of title 
 deeds is going to bring "the shop" into the house, 
 because those of us, and that means all of us, who 
 know him so well, are aware of the telescopic vision 
 of Mr. Burton, of the breadth of his mind, and that 
 for him Arpents and French Concession have 
 expanded into international boundaries, and that the 
 name of the old French settlers, Batiste Chauvin, 
 Louis St. Aubin and the rest, have been transfigured 
 into voyageurs from sunny France, and that with 
 his historical instinct and enthusiasm, it has been 
 impossible for him to become satisfied until his 
 secretaries were busily at work in Montreal and 
 Paris ; and until he had garnered the most valuable 
 collection of original documents in existence any- 
 where, upon the early French settlements, and re- 
 covered and restored them safe from the dust of 
 ages and from the tooth of time. 
 
 23 
 
It is stated that when Alexander the Great stood 
 upon the tomb of Achilles, he said "How fortunate 
 was Achilles in having such a herald as Homer to 
 proclaim his exploits." How fortunate is Detroit, in 
 having such a herald as Burton to transcribe and 
 proclaim her exploits! (Applause.) 
 
 Mr. Burton will speak to us tonight upon "Amuse- 
 ments in Detroit in Colonial Days." (Applause.) 
 
 Mr. Burton : I have been exceedingly interested 
 in the talk of Mr. Tuttle; and it recalls to my mind 
 the stories that my father and mother told me years 
 ago of their trip over this Santa Fe Trail where, a 
 few months preceding my birth, they went from the 
 State of Michigan to the State of California up in 
 the mountains, where I was born. I am sure that 
 this has been to me, probably, more interesting than 
 it has to most of you for recalling these old stories. 
 The story that I am to tell you tonight is so purely 
 local that it cannot excite in you any of that en- 
 thusiasm that has followed the recital of Mr. Tuttle, 
 but it may give you a little idea of how, not our 
 ancestors but our predecessors, lived in this little 
 village of ours before it came to< be the great city that 
 it is now. Of course, I am compelled to rely upon 
 notes. I could not commit such a matter as this to 
 memory, and you will excuse me in that respect 
 (Applause.) 
 
 24 
 
AMUSEMENTS IN DETROIT IN 
 COLONIAL DAYS 
 
 Paper of 
 
 Mr. Clarence M. Burton 
 
 of Detroit. 
 
 On the 24th day of July in the year 1701, there 
 landed on the shore of the Detroit River, a company 
 of soldiers and artisans, under the command of 
 Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac. This Company con- 
 sisted of fifty soldiers and fifty civilians comprising 
 all the trades useful for a frontier settlement. 
 Cadillac, the commandant, had been commissioned 
 by the French Government to locate a fort and 
 village on the Detroit River at such a point as would 
 command the water-way from Erie in the Great 
 Lakes beyond, and he had chosen this as the spot 
 for such a fort. From his starting point at Montreal, 
 he had been accompanied by a guard of one hundred 
 Algonquin Indians, and as the forces neared the 
 final stopping place, the number of Indians increased 
 until a small army of them drew their light canoes 
 upon the sandy beach, and gave their assistance to 
 the founding of a great city. 
 
 On the progress up the Ottawa River from 
 Montreal to Lake Nipissing, and thence across that 
 lake to its outlet, French River, and down that river 
 and through the Georgian Bay to the final desti- 
 nation. Troubles and disagreements arose among the 
 soldiers and colonists, and some of them were on the 
 point of deserting or returning to their homes. It 
 was rumored among them that Cadillac would never 
 pay them for their services ; that he would not permit 
 
 25 
 
them to return to Montreal, or bring their families 
 to Detroit. So a hundred rumors of the hardships 
 that must sooner or later overtake them, were passed 
 around the camp to discourage their further progress 
 or to prompt them to turn back before their work 
 was accomplished. 
 
 Before anything was done on the shores of the 
 Detroit River, Cadillac called all of his people 
 together, immediately upon their landing, and talked 
 to them about these rumors of disaffection. He had 
 been told that the leader and originator of these trou- 
 bles was the Jesuit priest, Vaillant, who had been per- 
 mitted, contrary to the wishes of Cadillac, to go with 
 him from Montreal. He knew that this priest had 
 been disappointed in not having the exclusive charge 
 of the religious affairs of the company, for he had 
 been allowed to come to Detroit only for the purpose 
 of founding a mission among the Indians, while a 
 Recollet priest, Nicolas Constantin de T Halle, was 
 selected as almoner to the settlement. 
 
 When Cadillac made known to his people his 
 knowledge of their discontent, and asked them for 
 the causes of it, Vaillant, who was present, found 
 that his schemes had been discovered, and he 
 immediately started for the woods to escape the 
 wrath of the commandant and the people. He 
 proceeded at once to Mackinac and never afterwards 
 appeared at Detroit. 
 
 No Jesuit priest ever officiated at the place until 
 within very recent times. 
 
 The foundation for the Church of Ste. Anne was 
 begun on the day of the first landing, and we may 
 well believe that the chanting of church services was 
 started at once, and has been continued without 
 interruption since, for even during the trying times 
 of 1763, when the place was besieged by Pontiac, 
 religious services were punctually attended to. 
 
 The early French and Canadian colonists were 
 mostly uneducated farmers, voyageurs and coureurs 
 de bois, who sought the great west because it gave 
 them opportunities for employment with some hope 
 
 26 
 
of bettering - their condition in life. The commandant 
 was obliged to make a report of the transactions of 
 the place sufficient to keep his superiors informed as 
 to the situation of affairs, but farther than these 
 official reports, we have very little information 
 regarding the daily life of the people. They wrote 
 no letters to friends or relatives to tell them about 
 the new country they had chosen for their homes. 
 An occasional quarrel between parties reached the 
 court at Quebec, but very little information can be 
 derived from that source. The church records are 
 very full and complete, but they are of such a nature 
 that they give little information of the daily life of 
 the community. The first Church of Ste. Anne that 
 had been erected in 1701 was destroyed by fire in 
 1703, and with it the church record for the two- years 
 was consumed. This record contained the entry of 
 the birth of a child to the commandant and his wife, 
 the first white child born in Detroit, or probably west 
 of Montreal. There can be little doubt that the birth 
 of this child was the occasion of great and prolonged 
 hilarity on the part of the entire community, for not 
 only was it the first birth, but it was the birth of a 
 child to the first and most important family in the 
 settlement. From this time forward there are entries 
 of marriages, births and deaths, each an occasion for 
 mirth or sorrow, and the French people then, as 
 now, permitted no occasion for mirth to escape them 
 unnoticed. 
 
 The new-comers brought guns and gun flints, 
 powder and ball for hunting. 
 
 In modern times, by custom brought down from 
 the far away pioneer life, the one most skillful in 
 using his gun at the annual tournaments is awarded 
 a prize for his ability. That this custom prevailed as 
 far back as the beginning of our history, there can 
 be little doubt, and at such trials of skill we may 
 well assume that they engaged in all sorts of athletic 
 sports, as running, wrestling, rowing, bowling and 
 arrow shooting. The flint arrow heads that we 
 sometimes, even now, find in the fields around the 
 
 27 
 
city, were quite difficult to make, and we cannot 
 believe that the Indians used them on ordinary 
 occasions. These arrows were reserved for special 
 occasions, such as shooting to show their skill, 
 where the arrow could be found and returned to the 
 sender. A bird on the wing could be killed or 
 wounded with such an arrow, but there would be 
 more difficulty in killing, or even seriously wounding 
 an animal of any considerable size. 
 
 Twice during the first eleven years of Detroit's 
 history, the place was beseiged by the Indians, once 
 in 1705, and again in 1712, and on both occasions 
 the savages sought to destroy the village by shooting 
 arrows carrying balls of fire on the unprotected 
 roofs of the houses. Both efforts failed because of 
 the prompt action of the citizens and garrison in 
 extinguishing the flames and in unroofing the houses. 
 At the outset, the Indians did not have guns or 
 powder. When they obtained guns, as they did within 
 a few years, they were entirely dependent upon the 
 French for powder and they could not conduct a 
 war of any considerable length without the assist- 
 ance of the French or Canadians. They became 
 skillful marksmen, both with gun and bow, but no 
 more skillful than the French. 
 
 The white and red natives mixed together as one 
 people. They sometimes intermarried, but aside 
 from this, the early white men who were trappers, 
 hunters and traders, in the woods, lived with the 
 savages on terms of perfect equality and their traits 
 and habits of life became similar. The athletic 
 sports were common to all natives, but there were 
 some sports more peculiarly Indian in their character, 
 such as rowing, swimming, and arrow shooting. 
 Then there was lacrosse, a game at first peculiarly 
 Indian, but which was soon adopted by the white 
 men. They had dances of various forms suited to 
 various occasions, such as war dances, medicine 
 dances and dances at funerals. In their camps in the 
 woods, to pass away the long evenings, the men had 
 stag dances, such as in more modern times, were 
 
 28 
 
indulged in by the woodsmen in the lumber camps. 
 The Canadian boatmen were noted for their boat 
 songs, and the long pulls through the placid waters 
 of Lake Nipissing and the Georgian Bay were en- 
 livened by the chorus of voices that kept time to the 
 strokes of their oars and paddles. 
 
 "Faintly as tolls the evening chime. 
 Our voices keep tune, and our ears keep time, 
 Soon as the woods on the shore look dim, 
 We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn, 
 Row, brothers, row ! the stream runs fast, 
 The rapids are near, and the daylight's past !" 
 
 — Moore's Canadian Boat Song. 
 
 One hundred voices, rising and falling in unison, 
 
 as they passed through the various rivers and lakes 
 from Montreal to Detroit, gave notice to the savages 
 that the march of civilization had begun. This 
 crude music was a dreadful warning to them, if they 
 had but understood it, that the ownership of the 
 woods and streams, and control of the wilderness 
 was about to pass into other hands, but they did not 
 comprehend. They welcomed the new-comers to a 
 home, a settlement, a new colony in the west. 
 
 The soldiers who came with Cadillac were French- 
 men who had entered the army in France and were 
 therefore familiar with the soldiers' life in the old 
 country. This life was not one of seclusion, or of 
 toil only, but was interspersed with all the hilarity 
 and joy making that could be obtained in such a 
 situation and in such a life. They undoubtedly 
 played all the games that were common in the day, 
 such as quoits, bowling in the narrow streets of the 
 village, card playing and other similar indoor 
 amusements in inclement weather. 
 
 The houses of the first comers were very small 
 and very crude. They were built of small logs set 
 on end and driven into the ground far enough to 
 make them stand firmly upright, and extending 
 above the ground only six or seven feet, high enough 
 to stand in. They were covered with skins, or with 
 split rails, and then with grass or straw. The up- 
 
rights were placed as closely together as possible and 
 the interstices filled with clay or mud. They were 
 seldom more than from twelve to eighteen feet in 
 width and of about the same depth. There were 
 no floors, except the earth beaten hard by many 
 footsteps. No glass windows were in the place. The 
 window openings were covered with the skin of some 
 animal. This was translucent on most occasions, 
 but the skin would thicken with age and exposure, 
 and it was frequently necessary to scrape thinner 
 or stretch it more in order to admit any light. The 
 only large buildings in the place were the warehouse 
 and church, and here all of the assemblies were held 
 for entertainments. During the year 1701 there 
 were no white women in the place, but the next year 
 came Madam Cadillac, and with her came Madam 
 Tonty, wife of Captain Alphonse de Tonty, and 
 their children, and servants. From this time on, the 
 wives of the former residents began to arrive, so 
 that a full and complete community was soon here. 
 There were many Indians, for Cadillac says that he 
 fed six thousand mouths during the winter of 1701-2 
 and there were men, women, boys, girls, servants, 
 and all that goes to make up a colony. They all 
 attended church on Sunday and holy days, and as 
 there were soon two or three hundred people, it will 
 be seen that it was necessary to have a large building 
 for church purposes. 
 
 The warehouse, also, was very large, for it con- 
 tained not only all the food, utensils, clothing and 
 other things brought up annually for the citizens and 
 the savages, but also all the peltries and things that 
 were collected to be sent down to Montreal in 
 exchange. It was likely in this building that their 
 indoor dances were held. They planted a May pole 
 each year before the door of the commandant, and 
 that occasion was also accompanied with dancing, but 
 the kind of music they had is not mentioned. 
 
 The soldiers did not act as soldiers in garrison, but 
 as citizens. They were each allowed a small tract 
 of land outside the village enclosure which they 
 
 30 
 
cultivated as gardens. Some of these patches along 
 the east line of Randolph street can be readily traced, 
 though more than two hundred years have passed 
 since their original survey. Hunting and trapping, 
 considered as amusements or pastimes with us, were 
 the means of gaining a living in the time of the 
 original colonists, so that they can scarcely be claimed 
 in this list. Probably every man and boy in the 
 settlement had his old flint lock blunderbuss, capable 
 of making a telling effect at short distance. The 
 owner was skilled in its use and seldom missed his 
 mark. One of the chief employments in the village 
 was the gunsmith, or armorer. Every youth, as well 
 as every man, was skilled in the making of traps for 
 catching wild animals of all kinds whose fur was 
 good. Care was taken not to catch or kill out of 
 season, for the woods were depleted rapidly enough 
 without killing when the fur was worthless. There 
 were no buffalo (or bison) in the immediate neigh- 
 borhood of Detroit, but when the whites first settled 
 here there was an abundance of deer, elk, bear, fox 
 and smaller animals. 
 
 Everyone fished when fish were in season, which 
 was most of the year. The fish were eaten fresh and 
 none were salted down or exported. The rivers and 
 lakes were so full of fish that none could be sold, 
 either here or at Montreal or Quebec, and it was 
 useless to undertake to export or to preserve them. 
 The fishing was by line and spear only. The 
 Indians made spearheads of flint, shaped something 
 like the arrow head, but larger and much heavier. 
 Even as late as the coming of the Americans in 
 1796, it was reported that the French people had no 
 seines, though there was abundance of use for them. 
 After Cadillac left Detroit in 1711, an inventory was 
 taken of the personal property owned by him, and 
 in this list was an item for "1050 large fishing hooks, 
 barbed," thus showing the general use of this instru- 
 ment in the colony. 
 
 The great number of flint arrowheads and spears 
 found in and around the village indicate the methods 
 
 31 
 
used by the savages in killing game and fish before 
 the distribution of firearms and gun-powder among 
 them. A large stock of gun flints and a supply of 
 English muskets and French muskets was carried 
 by the commandant in his storehouse. 
 
 A great quantity of goods was sent up to Detroit 
 annually for sale or distribution among the Indians, 
 and in this supply are to be found some things 
 evidently intended for their amusement. In one 
 place we find "one hundred small trumpets," possibly 
 to permit the youthful Indian to blow on and make 
 himself heard, as do the white youths of today. 
 These trumpets may also have been used in sleighing 
 or coasting parties on the ice and snow, or perhaps 
 as signals in the woods, though the Indian whoop is 
 generally supposed to have been sufficient for the 
 latter purpose. As there was a drum in the settle- 
 ment, these trumpets may have been used in con- 
 nection with it to raise a crowd. 
 
 The invoice included thirty-six pounds of medium- 
 size black glass beads, seventy-six and three-fourths 
 pounds of large black beads, eight and three-fourths 
 pounds of large green beads, streaked, thirty-three 
 pounds of beads in strings of all colors. Evidently 
 most of these articles were intended for sale to the 
 Indians as ornaments, for a piece of gay-colored 
 cloth, with a string of colored beads, would set off 
 the dusky maiden to advantage, and make her the 
 belle of the camp. The beads were the only form 
 of glass present in these early times. There were 
 no glass windows or mirrors for many years. An 
 item of thirteen dozen small tin mirrors indicates an 
 article used by both whites and Indians in making 
 their toilets and in shaving, if the men of that day 
 shaved at all. In the entire list there is nothing 
 found to correspond with the modern razor, but in 
 the list of property belonging to the Delisle family is 
 included "one fine razor." Knives they had, shoe- 
 makers' knives, Flemish knives, woodcutters' knives, 
 Siamese knives, large carving knives and other 
 knives in abundance, but mention is made of only one 
 
 32 
 
razor. Some of the presents to the Indians show 
 their propensity for display, such as "a fine shirt 
 with ruffles" and a "red coat ornamented with 
 imitation gold lace." Smoking was a pastime 
 enjoyed by both French and Indians. Tobacco was 
 either raised here or brought here by the Indians 
 from the warmer territory to the south of Lake 
 Erie. A kind of Indian tobacco was made from 
 the bark of the willow tree. Quantities of tobacco 
 were used and there were many pipes or calumets 
 in the storehouse. Some of them were common, 
 every-day affairs and some were elaborate and 
 expensive. Some were simply called "calumets" 
 while others were put down as "large calumets of 
 red stone, with their stems and plumes and stands 
 to hold them." The large ones might have been used 
 at the great council fires where the Indian treaties 
 were discussed and arrived at. 
 
 Boats for use on the rivers and lakes could not 
 be considered as instruments for amusement as at 
 the present day, but as objects of necessity, for the 
 only road in summer for all to travel was the water 
 way, and the only vehicle, the canoe. These boats 
 were made of the bark of trees, birch bark being 
 preferable, or, for the larger boats, trunks of trees 
 dug out or burned by slow fire. Great care had to 
 be taken in all cases to see the work was perfect, 
 for a boat which leaked was a great annoyance. 
 
 In later years one of the great pastimes in the 
 winter was racing on the ice, but not at this early 
 time. The Indians had no horses in this part of the 
 country. If there were any wild horses they were 
 far to the south and west, and were at that time 
 unknown in the vicinity of Detroit. 
 
 Cadillac brought three horses to Detroit, but two 
 of them died shortly after their arrival, and the only 
 horse in the settlement in 1711 was the third animal 
 and was called "Colon." All of the work necessary 
 to be done by animals was performed by this horse 
 and four oxen, also owned by Cadillac, and a few 
 other oxen owned by some of the colonists. 
 
 33 
 
In the immediate neighborhood of the village were 
 several quite steep hills that might be utilized in the 
 winter for coasting purposes, and perhaps Colon was 
 employed to draw the coasters' sleds on the river 
 ice, or up these hills or on the commons where the 
 underbrush was cleared. There were no roads and 
 very few smooth places fit for sleigh riding. This 
 horse was occasionally used for horseback riding, as 
 there were two pairs of old rowels mentioned, use- 
 less for any other purpose than to urge on this 
 solitary steed. There were several carts or wagons, 
 but all hand-made and heavily built for carrying 
 merchandise, not people. There were some other 
 domestic animals, for notice is made that the hogs 
 and cattle were placed on He Ste. Magdelaine, the 
 original French name for Belle Isle, for safe keep- 
 ing. The island, however, took the name of He au 
 Cochons (Hog Island) during Cadillac's time. 
 
 Perhaps the use of brandy, or eau-de-vie, as it was 
 then called, could not be considered as an amuse- 
 ment, but it was an indulgence granted to the 
 Canadians and French with only such restraints as 
 they voluntarily threw around it. Its use was 
 forbidden to the Indians. That is, efforts were 
 continually being made by the priests and the govern- 
 ment to prohibit the use by the savages, and Cadillac 
 was inclined to carry out this restraint, but he said 
 at the time, that the use of a small quantity of brandy 
 with every meal of fish was a necessity for the white 
 man, and so the stuff was included in the soldiers' 
 rations. Cadillac considered himself above the 
 common run of his colonists, and did not associate 
 with them as with equals. He made grants to 
 members of his own family of large tracts of land 
 on the Detroit River, thousands of acres in extent, 
 supposing that they would ultimately become 
 seigneurs, or landed proprietors, living off the rents 
 paid by their tenants for these lands. For himself, 
 he desired the income of the village proper and the 
 adjacent lands, with the title of Baron or Marquis 
 of Detroit. He was disappointed in not obtaining 
 
 34 
 
this concession. He imposed a tax or annual rental, 
 payable to himself, on every piece of land he granted 
 to the settlers. There were a few of his companions 
 with whom he was on familiar terms, as with the 
 priests, Captain Tonty and the Lieutenants, 
 Chacornac and Dugue. Their amusements were 
 somewhat different from those indulged in by the 
 "common herd" and we find in Cadillac's home 
 "eighteen swords with handles," probably used for 
 fencing. He was well educated and familiar with 
 the dramatic writings of his country, but it cannot 
 be determined that any theatre or work of that 
 character was undertaken at Detroit, though there 
 are several references in his letters to the drama. He 
 proposed to found a school, or college, at Detroit, 
 to instruct his colonists and the Indians there 
 assembled. He proposed to establish a hospital to 
 be placed under the charge of the Hospitallers, a 
 religious order of nuns, and he further asked 
 permission to form the Indians in military companies 
 and regiments, officered partly by themselves and in 
 part by French soldiers. All of these proposals, so 
 far in advance of his time, were frowned upon by 
 the French government, and his requests were 
 denied. There was one system adopted by Him that 
 outlasted his command and which continued in force 
 some years. When he first came to Detroit, he 
 supposed the entire trade of the place belonged to 
 him, but the Company of the Colony of Canada soon 
 laid claim to it, and a lawsuit followed, which con- 
 tinued for some time, and finally resulted in his 
 favor. After this final determination, he annually 
 sold to all of his people who desired, the right to 
 sell goods to the Indians. These goods all came at 
 one time in the fall of the year, and upon their 
 arrival nearly every house in the village was filled 
 with the new goods placed on exhibition and sale, to 
 induce the Indians to exchange their furs for trinkets 
 and cloths. This was a sort of annual fair that 
 lasted three or four days at a time. At such times 
 there collected at the place all the Indians in the 
 
 35 
 
neighborhood, and there were thousands of them, 
 and a general good time was held as long as the fair 
 lasted. The fair was abandoned in the time of the 
 command of Tonty, who died in office in Detroit in 
 1727, for he sold the right of trading to some 
 Montreal merchants and they would not permit local 
 dealers to share in the trade. A great noise was 
 made about the discontinuance of the fair and it 
 may have been revived in later years. 
 
 In 1710, Cadillac was appointed governor of 
 Lousiana, but did not leave Detroit for his new post 
 until the following year. His immediate successor 
 was Charles Regnault, Sieur Dubuisson, but he only 
 retained the position a few months pending the 
 arrival of De la Forest. 
 
 During the first years of the settlement, the citizens 
 were afraid of the Indians. Indeed, during the entire 
 time of French, English and American occupation 
 as late as 1832, when the Black Hawk War took 
 place, the people living in the village were afraid 
 of the uprising of the natives. The early French, 
 however, became so accustomed to them, and to their 
 ways of living, and so intimate with their home life, 
 that they had considerable confidence in them. A 
 very quiet and uneventful life they led for many 
 years, though the troubles with the Indians in the 
 early times, and the quarrels between the comman- 
 dants and their Montreal creditors disturbed business 
 to such an extent, that many of the people moved 
 back to the eastern settlements, and the village 
 decreased in size. 
 
 The grants of farm lands that had been made by 
 Cadillac in 1707 and 1708 were annulled by the 
 government, and the titles all reverted to the King 
 in 1716. This discouraged the farmers, for they 
 could not make improvements and build houses upon 
 insecure titles, but in later years, new grants were 
 made to actual settlers. Then began the revival. 
 The farmers raised sufficient to maintain the settle- 
 ments, but nothing was shipped down to Montreal. 
 The traders purchased goods from below, and sold 
 
 36 
 
them for furs, the chief commodity of exchange for 
 a long- time, but the orchards of apples yielded a 
 larger supply of fruit than could be used at home, 
 and cider began to be exported. 
 
 In 1734, the Royal Notary, Navarre, came here to 
 reside. He was next in importance to the comman- 
 dant, and his coming gave new life to the society of 
 the settlement. 
 
 The second generation was now in control of 
 affairs, and the number of young people in the village 
 was greatly increased. With the years, the villagers 
 had increased their worldly goods. They had horses 
 and saddles, and a few French carts. A road was 
 made along the river bank. Their houses were 
 better constructed, and they lived better, and more 
 independent. Most of the farmers lived on their 
 farms part of the time, but retired to the village if 
 the Indians threatened to trouble them. There was 
 a garrison maintained at the post composed of people 
 who were half soldiers and half artisans, for the 
 soldier's pay was very small, and he eked out a 
 subsistence by working at some trade, or as a 
 gardener. 
 
 Even in Cadillac's time there were musicians in 
 the garrison, for we have an account of the trial and 
 the execution of a drummer in Cadillac's company, 
 before they came to Detroit. 
 
 Some of the older citizens of today remember at 
 the dances in their childhood, one of the instruments 
 used was a Jewsharp. This instrument is no longer 
 used for such purposes, but when it commenced to 
 be employed is not recorded. In the absence of a 
 better musical instrument, the flying feet might keep 
 time to cleverly manipulated bone clappers. 
 
 St. Saveur was the drummer of the garrison in 
 1748, and in addition to his duties of furnishing 
 music to the townspeople, he announced the public 
 meetings, public auction sales, and other public 
 events, by beating his drum in the principal streets 
 of the village. This duty of giving public notices 
 was also sometimes performed by a public bell ringer. 
 
 37 
 
Notices of importance were given by this bell ringer 
 proceeding through all the streets of the village call- 
 ing out his news or notice. A written notice was 
 also posted on the church door, though it is very 
 probable that only a few citizens could either read 
 or write. 
 
 There is mention in the early church records of 
 Jean Baptiste Roucoux, first chanter and teacher in 
 the Christian school, and in the public library in De- 
 troit is an old account book, kept about the year 1750, 
 which contains a piece of music evidently written 
 about that date by Roucoux, or by Etienne Dubois, 
 for use in the church service. Dubois performed 
 the dual services of chanter and sexton. 
 
 It was in the Fall of 1760 that the English troops, 
 under Major Robert Rogers, took possession of the 
 fort and village. What a change this must have 
 been, and how excited the people were. The little 
 community that had existed so completely within 
 itself for nearly sixty years that it had scarcely 
 known what was going on in the great world with- 
 out, was, in a day, without the firing of a gun, with 
 but the parley of a few hours, converted from the 
 quiet French community into a hustling English 
 settlement. For sixty years Detroit's closest neigh- 
 bors were Mackinac, Vincennes and Kaskaskia. She 
 was at peace with the world, for she was unknown 
 to the world. Now all was changed — and changed 
 almost without warning. Armed troops marched 
 into the settlement and took control of the village. 
 Sentinels were posted at night to watch for foes, 
 where no one had thought of watching before. Sen- 
 tinels were marching all day and all night along the 
 banquette of the palisade. The Indian trade was 
 no longer carried on by the French people, for the 
 new traders — the English, Irish and Scotch — had 
 usurped the business and the former citizens were 
 driven to their farms for a living. 
 
 It was not long, however, before a better feeling 
 came between the Canadians and the English. The 
 young and unmarried girls and women of the post 
 
 38 
 
soon became acquainted with the young soldiers in 
 the garrison, and they were willing instructors and 
 scholars in learning, each the language of the other. 
 Every effort was made to conciliate the conquered 
 Canadians, to make them feel at home with the 
 master nation. 
 
 The next year after the conquest (1761) Sir Wil- 
 liam Johnson paid a visit to Detroit, and his coming 
 was followed by a period of entertainments that 
 lasted until he left the settlement. Each day was 
 filled with the work of seeing the French people and 
 getting acquainted with them, and in meeting the 
 Indians and talking to them, purchasing their friend- 
 ship, which lasted only as long as they could see the 
 benefit of the purchase price. 
 
 Johnson kept a journal of his trip and we find this 
 entry under the date of Sunday, September 6th : "A 
 very fine morning. This day I am to dine with 
 Captain Campbell, who is also to give the 
 ladies a ball that I may see them. They as- 
 sembled at 8 o'clock at night to the number 
 of about twenty. I opened the ball with 
 Madamoiselle Curie — a fine girl. We danced un- 
 til 5 o'clock the next morning." He had the name 
 of the young lady wrong, but it was quite as near 
 as he could be expected to get the peculiar French 
 name "Cuillerier." This was Angelique Cuillerier, 
 daughter of Antoine Cuillerier dit Beaubien. The 
 baronet remained some time in the place, and was 
 the subject of repeated entertainments. He writes 
 that he took a ride before dinner towards Lake St. 
 Clair. "The road runs along the river side which 
 is thickly settled nine miles." "The French gentle- 
 men and the two priests who dined with us got very 
 merry. Invited them all to a ball tomorrow night, 
 which I am to give to the ladies." Here again he 
 met the same young lady — evidently by appointment. 
 He writes : "In the evening the ladies and gentle- 
 men all assembled at my quarters, danced the whole 
 night until seven o'clock in the morning, when all 
 parted very much pleased and happy. Promised to 
 
 39 
 
write to Madamoiselle Curie as soon as possible, my 
 sentiments ; there never was so brilliant an assembly 
 here before." 
 
 A strenuous life Sir William led in these few 
 weeks in Detroit, but a more strenuous time he would 
 have led upon his return to his old home if his Indian 
 wife (or housekeeper, as he calls her in his will), 
 Molly Brant, had known of his doings at Detroit. 
 It was well for her peace of mind, and well for his 
 personal safety, that she was kept in ignorance, for 
 it is said that she had an ungovernable temper and 
 was a terror when her will was crossed. She was 
 a sister of Joseph Brant, the great Iroquois chief, and 
 was the mother of ten children by Sir William John- 
 son. 
 
 Angelique, the little French girl who, with her 
 pretty face, her jet-black hair, her bright eyes, her 
 winning ways and her broken English, had won the 
 heart of the baronet, was not left long to pine for 
 his absence. 
 
 James Sterling, a young Scotchman, who had 
 come with the garrison and who was the storekeeper 
 in the post, soon became the instructor of the French 
 damoselle in the English language, while he received 
 instructions in French from her. In 1763 when Pon- 
 tiac was conspiring to surprise and murder the gar- 
 rison, Angelique learned of his plans, and told her 
 lover, who, in turn, informed Major Gladwin, and 
 the surprise, so cleverly planned, was prevented and 
 the garrison saved. 
 
 Sterling and Angelique were married shortly after 
 this, and although they remained many years in De- 
 troit, they were the steadfast friends of the Colonies 
 during the Revolutionary War. Both husband and 
 wife suffered for our cause, and were driven from 
 their Detroit home, never to return. 
 
 The news of peace between France and England, 
 of 1763, was brought to Detroit in a very peculiar 
 way. The village was besieged by the Indian Pon- 
 tiac and his Hurons. So closely were the English 
 confined within the palisades of the village, that they 
 
 40 
 
did not dare open the gates or go beyond the portals. 
 George McDougall, who had ventured to go to Pon- 
 tiac, upon his assurances of personal protection, was 
 a prisoner among the Indians. A letter was brought 
 from Niagara to Major Gladwin, who was in com- 
 mand at Detroit, notifying him of the conclusion of 
 peace between England and France. The bearer of 
 this letter was killed by the Indians, and the note 
 taken from him and given to Pontiac. The latter 
 called upon McDougall to read it, and Pierre Chene 
 Labutte interpreted it to the Indians. McDougall 
 succeeded in keeping the paper, and on the night of 
 June 2, 1763, he let another white prisoner take the 
 letter, and run with it from the Indian encampment 
 to the Fort. This messenger arrived entirely naked, 
 bearing only the very welcome message of peace, at 
 three o'clock in the morning. Upon being admitted 
 to the Fort, his message was received and read, and 
 the account states that upon the following evening 
 there was an instrumental concert to celebrate the 
 arrival of the welcome news. 
 
 Just a month later, McDougall managed to escape 
 from the Indians, and ran into the fort in much the 
 same manner as the messenger who had escaped. 
 
 Until the coming of the English in 1760, the af- 
 fairs of the village were mostly managed by the com- 
 mandant, but Englishmen had little idea of vesting 
 authority in a single individual. They wanted to be 
 governed by the laws, not by individuals. They 
 wanted trials by jury, not the will of the comman- 
 dant. For the first few years they had enough to 
 occupy their attention in maintaining a semblance 
 of friendship with the Canadians and Indians, but 
 occasionally some other trouble arose that they had 
 to attend to. 
 
 The place was in the Indian country, and was not 
 subject to the laws of England except as the people 
 applied these laws. Criminals from other places fled 
 to Detroit to escape punishment. Several crimes of 
 magnitude were committed at Mackinac and Detroit, 
 and some executions for murder and stealing took 
 
 41 
 
place here. A man named Schindler was accused of 
 selling base metal for silver, and was tried before the 
 local justice and was acquitted by a jury chosen to 
 try him, but the English governor, Hamilton, was 
 so impressed with the man's guilt, that he ordered 
 him drummed out of the settlement. There was, at 
 that time, a quarrel between the governor and the 
 lieutenant who was in command of the garrison, and 
 the latter would not permit the drummer to beat his 
 drum while passing through the citadel where the 
 soldiers were. 
 
 At the public execution or hanging of a man con- 
 victed of murder, the band of musicians from the 
 garrison surrounded the scaffold and played airs 
 suitable to such a solemn occasion. 
 
 During the Revolutionary War, there were parties 
 of Indians and white men constantly going from 
 Detroit to seek out the settlements on the borders of 
 the colonies, destroying the houses and making pris- 
 oners of and murdering the inhabitants. 
 
 It is not recorded that any instruments of music 
 were taken on these incursions, for their success de- 
 pended upon their stealth, and a noise might betray 
 their coming and prevent that unforeseen attack that 
 they were desiring. The Indian war-whoop was 
 practiced by both whites and reds, for signals as they 
 required. The scalping of Indians by white men 
 was quite as common as the scalping of the whites 
 by the Indians. 
 
 Major DePeyster, who was in command in Detroit 
 during a portion of this war, writes May 26, 1780 : 
 "Everything is quiet here except the constant noise 
 of the war drum. All the seigneures are arrived at 
 the instance of the Shawnese and Delawares. More 
 Indians from all quarters than ever before known, 
 and not a drop of rum." 
 
 DePeyster was something of a poet and several 
 short poems of his relate to his life at Mackinac, De- 
 troit and Niagara. One poem is devoted to carioling 
 or racing on the ice on the River Rouge. Everyone 
 who had a horse was present. The festivities of 
 
 42 
 
the occasion were under the management of Guil- 
 laume LaMothe, a Frenchman who was an officer in 
 the Indian department. A feast followed the race, 
 which was enjoyed by the officers and their wives 
 and guests. Much drinking was indulged in, and 
 the party was hilarious. The poet, with unusual 
 poet's license, had the wild bears and deer come from 
 the woods and watch the pleasure seekers at their 
 camp : 
 
 "The goblet goes round, while sweet echo's repeating, 
 The words which have passed through fair lady's lips ; 
 Wild deer (with projected long ears) leave off eating, 
 And bears sit attentive, erect on their hips." 
 
 "The fort gun proclaims when 'tis time for returning, 
 Our pacers all eager at home to be fed ; 
 We leave all the fragments, and wood clove for burning, 
 For those who may drive up sweet River Red." 
 
 DePeyster, although the military commandant, 
 was, in truth, the civil commandant as well, for the 
 lieutenant-governor, Hamilton, the civil governor, 
 was a prisoner of war at Williamsburg, Virginia, 
 when DePeyster came to Detroit. Hamilton had 
 been governor of Detroit for some three years, when, 
 in the fall of 1778, he concluded to go to Vincennes 
 to drive the rebels from the Ohio country. He utterly 
 failed of his purpose, and was captured by General 
 George Rogers Clark in the early part of 1779. The 
 French inhabitants of Detroit were never cordially 
 friendly to the British and when the news of the 
 capture of Hamilton reached the place, the French 
 were so elated that they held a three days' feast of 
 rejoicing and building of bonfires to show their 
 pleasure. This was the report made at the time, 
 though it can probably be taken cum grano salis. 
 
 We have not sufficient data to tell just when Wil- 
 liam Forsyth came to Detroit, but we find him at an 
 early date keeping a tavern or place of entertainment 
 on Ste. Anne street in the old village. He owned 
 a lot adjoining the citadel, on which he had erected 
 a bowling alley and pleasure resort. 
 
 43 
 
Probably the building also had a billiard table, for 
 we know there were such tables in the country. The 
 lot was wanted by the government to extend its bar- 
 racks, and Forsyth was compelled to move out, and 
 petitioned Governor Haldimand for damages for the 
 loss of his property. As the bowling alley was a 
 desirable adjunct to the pleasure resorts of the place, 
 it was opened in another locality. 
 
 When the War of the Revolution came to a close, 
 it was agreed that Detroit should become a part of 
 the United States, and should be vacated by British 
 soldiers. But Great Britain thought that if she could 
 hold on a few years, the States would quarrel among 
 themselves, and she could repossess herself of the 
 country because of their contentions. She was fooled 
 in this, but nevertheless managed to retain possession 
 of Detroit until 1706. In the meantime, the place 
 was governed by the law-makers of Canada, as if it 
 belonged to that dominion. In 1791, Canada was 
 divided into Upper and Lower Canada, and in the 
 fall of 1792, there was held in Detroit an election 
 for members of the Provincial Parliament of Upper 
 Canada. This parliament was divided into two 
 houses, the upper, called the Council, the members of 
 which were appointed, and the lower, the Assembly, 
 the members of which were elected. 
 
 In the upper house, there was one member from 
 Detroit, Alexander Grant, known also as Commo- 
 dore Grant, for he had charge of the entire navy on 
 Lakes Erie, Huron and Michigan, during the Revo- 
 lution. 
 
 The members elected to the lower house were 
 William Macomb, uncle to our General Alexander 
 Macomb, and David William Smith, who lived at 
 Niagara. Smith attempted, at first, to gain his elec- 
 tion as representing the county of Essex, but at this 
 election he was defeated by Francois Baby. This 
 election took place August 20, 1792, and after his 
 defeat his friends put him up for election in the 
 
 44 
 
County of Kent, which included the village of De- 
 troit. The election was held August 28, 1792, and 
 here he was successful. 
 
 The letters I have from him were written before 
 either election took place, and were indited upon the 
 supposition, or expectation, that he would win at the 
 Essex election. As this was the first and only elec- 
 tion to parliament ever had at Detroit, the descrip- 
 tion Mr. Smith gives of what he expects will take 
 place is quite interesting: "Perhaps I should have 
 done better to have set up for one of the seats in 
 Detroit, as I hear only of Mr. Macomb who is to 
 be proposed ; but I did not then know they would be 
 entitled to vote; besides were I thrown out on the 
 20th, I might have a chance on the 28th. The French 
 people can easily walk to the hustings, but my gentry 
 will require some conveyance; if boats are necessary, 
 you can hire them, and they must not want beef or 
 rum, let them have plenty — and in case of success, 
 I leave it to you which you think will be best for my 
 friends, a public dinner and the ladies a dance, either 
 now or when I go up. If you think the moment the 
 best time, you will throw open Forsyth's tavern and 
 call for the best he can supply. I trust you will feel 
 very young on the occasion, in the dance, and I wish 
 that Leith and you would push about the bottle to 
 the promotion of the settlements on the Detroit. 
 The more broken heads and bloody noses there are, 
 the more election like, and in case of success (damn 
 that if) let the white ribbon favors be plentifully 
 distributed to the old, the young, the gay, the lame, 
 the cripple and the blind. Half a score cord of 
 wood piled hollow, with tar barrel in the middle, on 
 the common, some powder and plenty of rum. I am 
 sure you will preside over and do everything that is 
 needful. As far as my circumstances will admit 
 there must be no want, and I am sure you will have 
 everything handsome and plentiful. Elliot, I am 
 sure, will give you a large red flag to be hoisted on 
 a pole near the bon-fire, and some blue colored tape 
 may be sewed in large letters, 'ESSEX.' 
 
 45 
 
"Thus talked the woman to herself when she car- 
 ried her eggs on her head to the market. She sat 
 them, she hatched them, she sold them for a crown 
 apiece, and then down she fell, eggs and all." 
 
 At another time he writes : "Have proper booths 
 erected for my friends at the hustings ; employ For- 
 syth to make a large plumb cake, with plenty of 
 fruit, &c, and be sure let the wine be good and 
 plenty. 
 
 "Let the peasants have a fiddle, some beverage 
 and beef." 
 
 Jean Baptiste Beaubien, one of the founders of 
 Chicago, and a noted fiddler at every dance in the 
 early years of that village, was born in Detroit Sep- 
 tember 5, 1787. He was a cousin of Angelique 
 Cuillerier. 
 
 The change of government finally came in 1796, 
 when the English left and the Americans came in. 
 It was not an unexpected change, and yet it made 
 such an impression on the Canadian citizens who 
 left the place rather than submit to the American 
 rule, that they gave it the name of the "Exodus," 
 a name by which it is familiarly known among their 
 descendants even today. 
 
 The new-comers were from New York and New 
 England stock, and they brought with them some 
 new ideas, amusements and holidays. Perhaps 
 Christmas and the king's birthday were observed by 
 the older residents, but now came the Fourth of 
 July, and Thanksgiving Day, with its pumpkin pies, 
 cider, and doughnuts. If the roasting of new corn 
 and potatoes was unknown in Detroit before this 
 era, it certainly was not afterwards. Stoves were 
 not invented in time to be of general use in Detroit 
 until as late, or even later, than the Exodus. The 
 family baking was not done at home, but at the pub- 
 lic bakehouse, but every girl and boy was so familiar 
 with the fireplace and uncovered fire, that the roast- 
 ing of corn and potatoes was no great novelty, 
 though it was always a pleasure. 
 
 46 
 
Then what of the husking bee, and the privilege 
 of the fortunate finder of the red ear of corn, who 
 was permitted to kiss the girl of his choice — if he 
 could catch her. Did that come from New England, 
 or was it indigenous to the soil that could yield a 
 corn crop? 
 
 The hunting of nuts in the fall by groups of chil- 
 dren or of grown folks could not have originated at 
 that time, though it was doubtless engaged in, as it 
 had been for a century before. Of wild grapes and 
 berries of all varieties there was an abundance, and 
 it did not need much of an education to instruct the 
 young folks in the idea of having a crowd to do 
 berrying and enjoy the fun, and every day was a 
 picnic. 
 
 There were probably few, if any, two-story build- 
 ings in the vicinity of Detroit before 1796, but after 
 that date they began to increase in numbers, and on 
 the occasion of the erection of each new building 
 there was the raising bee of neighbors accompany- 
 ing the work with a boiled dinner for the crowd, and 
 perhaps something a little stronger than water in 
 the way of beverage. 
 
 There was a harpsichord in the settlement some 
 years prior to the opening of the new century. Just 
 when this musical instrument was brought to Detroit 
 is uncertain, but it was there long before the year 
 1799, for at that date it was represented to be in a 
 dilapidated condition. It was the property of Dr. 
 William Harpfy. Hiarpfy was a surgeon in the 
 British garrison, and when the Exodus took place in 
 1796, he was moved to the new establishment at 
 Maiden, and he took his harpsichord with him. 
 Among his most intimate friends at Detroit were 
 John Askin and Commodore Alexander Grant. 
 Grant had been commodore of the lakes during the 
 Revolution and was, in 1792, appointed one of the 
 members of the executive council for Upper Canada 
 — a life position. John Askin was an extensive 
 trader at Detroit, and brother-in-law of Grant. 
 Grant lived at Grosse Pointe and there had a castle 
 
 47 
 
well filled with young lady daughters. There were 
 ten in all, of whom nine grew to womanhood, Ther- 
 ese (Mrs. Wright), Nellie, Archange (married 
 Thomas Dickson), Phillis (married Alexander 
 Duff), Isabella (married Mr. Gilkison), Nancy 
 (married George Jacob), Elizabeth (married James 
 Woods), Mary Julia (married Mr. Milles), and Jean 
 Cameron (married William Richardson). The ab- 
 sence of any of the ten from the family circle could 
 hardly be noticed, for the deficiency was filled by 
 the cousins, daughters of John Askin. Of these 
 cousins, frequent visitors at the Grant castle, there 
 were Adelaide Askin (afterwards the wife of Elijah 
 Brush) ; Therese, who married Colonel Thomas Mc- 
 Kee; Ellen, the wife of Richard Pattinson, and 
 Archange, who became Mrs. Meredith, and removed 
 to England with her husband, who was an officer in 
 the British forces. 
 
 The first record we have of this harpsichord is 
 contained in a letter from Dr. Harpfy to his friend 
 John Askin. Harpfy was somewhat eccentric and 
 quite voluble in his letter writing. This letter is 
 dated October 17, 1799, and after dilating on various 
 other matters, he turns his attention to the subject 
 of music, and says "Curse the music. I wish it was 
 sold. I care not for what, as all my wants and 
 wishes to attain are not worth the pains or trouble 
 to my friends. You will favor me if it could be in 
 any way disposed of." 
 
 It seems that the subject of the sale of this instru- 
 ment had been talked over on some previous occa- 
 sion between Askin and Harpfy, for the latter again 
 writes : "In looking over your letter of the 14th, I 
 thank you for your very great kindness in regard to 
 the harpsichord — but I am told it is a mere wreck — 
 therefore, as I have mentioned before, I wish it 
 sold." 
 
 What more proper place for such a piece of fur- 
 niture than the castle of Commodore Grant, where 
 it could receive the attention of so many young 
 ladies. Harpfy and Askin concluded that the castle 
 
 48 
 
was in need of just such an article, and one day, 
 when one of the commodore's boats was at Maiden, 
 they slipped the instrument aboard and it was soon 
 landed at Grosse Pointe. Then came the fun. It was 
 so old and dilapidated that it was useless and in the 
 way. No one wanted it. Only the old friendship 
 existing between Grant and Harpfy prevented the 
 former from casting the musical instrument into 
 "outer darkness." Grant complained to the doctor 
 and asked him to take the piece away from his home. 
 Harpfy had occasion to visit Sandwich and wanted 
 to cross the river and see Askin in Detroit, but the 
 ferry was not running very regularly, and the doctor 
 was not feeling very well — he had been sick and was 
 now slowly recovering. Instead of visiting Askin, 
 he wrote him a long letter on various matters, and as 
 a postscript, touched on the subject of the instru- 
 ment : "October 28th, 9 o'clock at night. I really 
 am sorry that the harpsichord was put in Mr. Grant's 
 boat, for he talks about it — Gods, how he talks about 
 it." The joke had been carried too far and Grant 
 would not overlook it, or allow it to proceed further. 
 The instrument must be removed, and that at once. 
 So Askin sent for it, and had it taken to one of his 
 storehouses in the village, where it was taken care 
 of Askin lived on the front of his farm, not far 
 from the intersection of Atwater and Randolph 
 streets. Atwater street was the only highway to the 
 country on the east side, and the well-to-do class of 
 citizens lived in the neighborhood. Here Askin 
 owned several buildings, and, besides, he had several 
 houses and buildings in the village proper. The last 
 we hear of the instrument that came so near being 
 an instrument of discord, is a note in a letter from 
 Dr. Harpfy to Mr. Askin, dated November 5, 1799, 
 where he writes, "I thank you for your care of the 
 harpsichord. I wish it could be sold." 
 
 In 1799 there was an election held in Detroit for 
 members of the Legislature, that met at Chillicothe, 
 and Solomon Sibley, then a young attorney at De- 
 troit, was one of the candidates. Voting then was not 
 
 49 
 
by secret ballot, as now, but every one gave the 
 name of his candidate as he came up to vote. The 
 voter's name was taken down, and his qualifications 
 for suffrage were also frequently indicated. 
 
 At the election referred to, some opponent of 
 Judge Sibley kept such a record of the persons who 
 voted for him and from this list I have taken a few 
 names of persons whose descendants are still here. 
 
 Antoine Dequindre, who was, at that time, the 
 owner of the farm extending along the westerly line 
 of Dequindre street, is thus mentioned, "Has given 
 his creditors all he has ; the farm on which he lives is 
 the property of his wife." 
 
 Christian Clemens, the founder and owner of 
 Mount Clemens, "Has no property known." 
 
 Ezra F. Freeman, then one of the principal law- 
 yers in the place, "Has no property in the country." 
 
 James Henry, an uncle of the late D. Farrand 
 Henry. He was. at the time of his death, one of the 
 wealthy citizens of the place, "Lives at Grosse Isle. 
 Lately liberated from the Indians ; lives on the es- 
 tates of the late Macomb." 
 
 Elijah Brush, the founder of the Brush family, 
 and the owner of the Brush farm, "Lately arrived ; 
 has no property known." 
 
 Sibley was elected over James May, and served in 
 the legislature with Jacob Visger and Charles Fran- 
 cois Chabert de Joncaire. 
 
 This brings us to the beginning of the second cen- 
 tury of the life of our city. Its population had in- 
 creased from the one hundred who came at the start 
 to some eighteen hundred who lived in the place, and 
 along the shore line on both sides of the river. 
 
 Now we are well on in the third century of our 
 existence. 
 
 We look back upon these happy days and sigh as 
 we remember that the simple life — the simple pleas- 
 ures — and the simple folks of this long ago, are no 
 longer with us, and cannot be found in the tumult of 
 our great city. I thank you. 
 
 50 
 
Toastmaster: It is with peculiar pleasure that 
 we welcome into our circle tonight Rev. Dr. Marquis. 
 (Applause.) Formerly a minister who belonged to 
 a denomination ; now he belongs to the community. 
 (Applause.) I love to recall a book-store conversa- 
 tion with the late Bishop Harris, in which he re- 
 marked — suggested by the volume that he had been 
 glancing at, "The essential matters are not those that 
 are peculiar to one denomination, but those that are 
 common to all denominations." It is this liberal 
 spirit, now so prominent among the leading clergy- 
 men of the country everywhere, that is doing so 
 much for the good of the American people. You 
 know that all the great religious ideas of the world 
 had their origin in Asia. They flourished and be- 
 came differentiated, and finally became hostile, even 
 to death, in Europe; and it is the mission of the 
 United States to harmonize these formerly hostile 
 religious ideas upon a higher plane of beneficial ser- 
 vice and practical utility to mankind ; not the monot- 
 ony of unity, but harmony in variety ; hastening the 
 day when swords shall be beaten into plowshares, 
 and spears into pruning-hooks, when societies of 
 wars and revolution shall be messengers of peace, 
 and of law and of order. A marquis, in the old feu- 
 dal time, was the officer who was responsible for the 
 frontiers, and our own Marquis has prominently 
 carried the flag of intellectual and religious freedom 
 far in advance upon the frontiers of modern thought. 
 We are fortunate, tonight, in closing our program, 
 in having a talk from Dr. Marquis, upon Patriotism. 
 (Applause.) 
 
 Dr. Marquis : Mr. Toastmaster and Gentlemen, 
 I promise you, that the very best thing about my ad- 
 dress tonight will be, — if I can make it so, and get 
 out of my preachifying habit, — its brevity. 
 
 51 
 
PATRIOTISM 
 
 Address by 
 
 Rev. Samuel S. Marquis, D. D. 
 
 The subject of patriotism is one that I am well 
 aware is familiar to you gentlemen of this organiza- 
 tion, and the idea that is embodied in that word is, 
 I know, very familiar to us all. Yet, I think that the 
 most familiar words are those that, after all, convey 
 in them a lost meaning. I have wondered, as I have 
 been thinking over this topic, whether the real idea 
 of patriotism is one, after all, that is very clear in 
 our minds. We ordinarily think of patriotism, I 
 think, as that which is manifested in men under test, 
 or in times of danger. We think of the patriot, too 
 often, as a man who takes a musket upon his shoul- 
 der and goes to the front when his country is threat- 
 ened. But I am not quite sure but what a higher 
 patriotism is that which is manifested by a citizen in 
 time of peace. Our patriotism, I think, is a good 
 deal like our religion, if it were possible that the 
 Turks should land in this country and attempt to 
 force their religion upon us, by force of arms, I 
 doubt not there would be thousands and hundreds of 
 thousands of those who are nominally Christian, who 
 would be willing to lay down their lives to prevent a 
 thing of that kind. In other words, they would die 
 for Christ, but you could not get many of them to 
 live for Him. And there are a great many of us, 
 I think, that perhaps would die for our patriotism, 
 but it would be very difficult for us to really rise to 
 a higher station and live for it. Because I take it, 
 that it takes a higher order of man to be a patriot in 
 peace than to be a patriot in war. 
 
 53 
 
Now, I am only going to simply outline what I 
 had in mind to say to you tonight, and leave you to 
 think it over. I want to draw a distinction in my 
 own mind between what seems to me to be the true 
 and false patriot. To illuminate that which is false, 
 let me simply briefly cite some three or four kinds 
 of false patriot. 
 
 There is the patriot of the hot-air kind, if you will 
 pardon the slang phrase. He is the man who takes 
 it all out in boasting about his country, and especially 
 about the bigness of it. If you mention a soap fac- 
 tory that you have seen in England, he knows of a 
 bigger one in America. If you talk about the cham- 
 pagne of France, it is not anything to compare with 
 the champagne that is made in California. There is 
 always something of a bigger or better character in 
 his own country. He is entirely satisfied, apparently, 
 with the bigness and superiority of his country and 
 that boastfulness of his takes, in his mind, the place 
 of loyalty, or patriotism. There are those who are 
 satisfied with anything and any place, but it is not 
 an indication that a man is a patriot because he is 
 satisfied with the country in which he lives. 
 
 It reminds me of what, possibly, to you is an old 
 story, of the two Irishmen who happened to pass 
 out of this life together, or very nearly together. 
 One went up the grand stairway, and the other down. 
 After a number of centuries had passed by, they 
 chanced to meet one day upon the landing. Pat says 
 to Mike, "How do you loike it up there?" Mike 
 says, "It is foine, they gave me a job that I was on 
 to before I went; I have been paving the streets, and 
 it is a nice clean job, just layin' gold bricks. There 
 is not many of us up there, and we have to work tin 
 hours a day." Then he says to Pat, "How do you 
 loike it down where you are?" "Well," replied Pat, 
 "I loike it very well, they gave me a job I am on to; 
 1 have been tinding furnace ever since I went down 
 there." "But," says Mike, "it is a nasty, dirty job; 
 don't you wish you had the one I have?" "Oh, I 
 don't know," says Pat, "there are so many of us 
 
 54 
 
down there that we only have to work seventeen 
 minutes once in thirty-six years." (Laughter.) 
 
 There is a certain kind of satisfaction that a man 
 can drum up about his country, and possibly let it 
 pass for patriotism. 
 
 Then there is the patriotism that manifests itself 
 in a form of loyaltv for one's political party. You 
 will meet the man who is sure that the man who doe? 
 not vote as he is voting", is somehow or other a 
 traitor, that is all there is to it, there is no way 
 around it. if he does not believe in a tariff, or free 
 trade ; and if he does not believe in the gold standard, 
 or in lfi to 1, or whatever the case may be, he is 
 dead sure that he is on the side of the patriots, and 
 that voting as he does is the thing. That is the 
 evidence of that fact. And so, you may go along 
 the line. There are these false standards of patriot- 
 ism, these false ways of expressing it. and many of 
 us. I fear, have not gotten quite beyond these stand- 
 ards. 
 
 Now. briefly, my idea of a patriot is a man who 
 stands for these three things : First of all, for the 
 ideals that lie behind and were in the minds of the 
 men who were the founders of this country. In the 
 second place, the man who loves the people of his 
 country, not simply its mountains and its streams, or 
 some particular state, or some particular city or vil- 
 lage, or the farm on which he was born, but a man 
 who really loves the people of his country, and who 
 is willing to rise above selfishness, and to do every- 
 thing in his power for the good of his country, and 
 for the good of the whole of the people of that coun- 
 try. And in the third place, the man who feels that 
 the nation is as sacred as the church,. or the family, 
 and that his duties as a citizen are just as divine and 
 sacred as any of the duties that can possibly fall to 
 man. 
 
 Now, briefly, let me just dwell upon these three 
 things for two or three minutes. First of all, as to 
 the ideals. You men know more about these things, 
 because you are students of these things, and you 
 
 55 
 
com<e of a line of ancestors that naturally lead you 
 into that study. You arc more familiar with them 
 than T am myself; but as I read the history of this 
 country, there were three currents or three streams 
 of blood that really unite in the heart of this nation ; 
 three ideals or ideas that, somehow or other, mingle 
 in the mind of the nation. There was the ideal in 
 the blood of the Puritan ; there was the ideal in the 
 blood of the Quaker, there was the ideal in the 
 blood of the Cavalier. You know what the ideals 
 are, and what the ideas were that come down to us 
 from the Puritan, with his religious intensity, with 
 his ethical standard, with his sense of native inde- 
 pendence, and with his business push and tact. Yet, 
 I sometimes think, if the old Puritan were to come 
 back and look over his descendents, that he would 
 find today that possibly the characteristic, or chief 
 thing that he has stamped upon, and that has been 
 left upon his descendents is, after all, his business 
 sense. That the moral or ethical standard which 
 he carried into it, his religious sense, that those 
 things are waning, and that peculiar business in- 
 stinct which he had, and which put New England at 
 the front, and which has made his descendents men 
 of progress in the commercial world everywhere, 
 that this was not the thing, above everything else, 
 that has survived. 
 
 Now, I think that the patriot, or the man who is 
 a descendent of the Puritan, owes it to his fore- 
 fathers to keep alive, not simply the business instinct, 
 but that we, as patriots, if we are true, must stand 
 more and more for the ideals of the fathers, so far 
 as the moral ideals, or ethical standard which he 
 dare carry into his every-day life. We need that 
 in the nation's life today. 
 
 Going to the Quaker, we find him standing 
 among other things, especially for this, for tolera- 
 tion. I mean, not simply tolerance of another's 
 religious views, but tolerance in the widest sense of 
 the word. I sometimes think that we sometimes do 
 not quite understand what tolerance means. We 
 
 56 
 
have gotten a kind of free and easy way in these 
 days. We think we are tolerant, but I think we are 
 indifferent, and there is quite a difference between 
 the two, just as there is a difference between liberty 
 and license. A man is not tolerant who has not any 
 ideas of his own. It was not because the Quaker 
 did not believe, but it was because he did believe, 
 that he could afford to be tolerant. The greatest 
 sceptic on God's earth is the man who is afraid to 
 let another man fully comprehend that which he 
 believes. It is simply because he has not faith or 
 confidence in his own conviction that he is afraid 
 of another man's conviction or difference from him. 
 It is because a man does believe, that he can afford 
 to be tolerant. If I believe, for example, that I may 
 stand forth just as true in anything, I can afford to 
 let another man have his opinions. Let time test 
 the truth. I do not have to uphold it, I do not have 
 to stand behind it in that sense. The test of time 
 will tell, and I can leave it to that. And I think, 
 that along with the Quaker ideal that we should be 
 careful that we have gotten it, not simply a mere 
 tolerance or mere indifference, but that we should 
 have convictions, as men, for which we stand. 
 
 And last of all, the ideal that came from the 
 Cavalier. You know the charm and courtliness of 
 his life and all that, but here is one of the strong 
 contradictions in American history, it seems to me. 
 You know it was the Virginia planter who proposed, 
 first of all, a Union as opposed to a loose confed- 
 eracy, if I remember rightly. It was the great 
 Cavalier Washington who gave us the idea of a 
 Union. Yet, in later years if I remember rightly, 
 it was some of the New England colonies that stood 
 out a long time against that idea. But the strange 
 thing and contradiction in the history is, that later on 
 when the nation met, north and south, upon the field 
 of battle, the Cavalier's descendents were contend- 
 ing for the confederacy, and those of the north for 
 the Union. In both armies there may have been 
 certain interests of a selfish character that came into 
 
 57 
 
it, whatever they were, I cannot tell, but we have 
 inherited from him from the south, in his idea and 
 conception of the Union, the Nation for which it 
 seems to me every patriot must stand. 
 
 I want, just briefly, to speak of one other thing, 
 and that is, that a man who is a patriot, loves the 
 people of his country. We have a song called 
 "My Own United States", in which we speak about 
 loving every blade of grass, and every flowing 
 stream and rill, and all that kind of thing, and I 
 tell you there is a great deal of patriotism that does 
 not go any further than just that. It is just a kind 
 of sentiment about the country, a sort of home 
 feeling that we have here, and it is something that 
 anybody can have. The question, it seems to me, 
 of love of one's country is not simply a question of 
 whether you love Michigan as a State. It is whether 
 you love the people. It is whether a man is really 
 big enough, and unselfish enough to be standing for 
 the highest interests of all the people, and not simply 
 for himself or for his own individual interests. 
 When you come to the manifestation of that love, 
 here is one of the reasons, one of the things that 
 makes me think that patriotism is not strong, or as 
 strong as it ought to be in this country. When you 
 come to the manifestation of patriotism which, in 
 its last analysis, is love of the whole people of your 
 country, how can you manifest it? You can man- 
 ifest it in but only one way, that is in service; but it 
 seems to me that one of the evidences that we are 
 lacking in the highest form of patriotism in these 
 things is the evidence that men, oftentimes like 
 yourselves, who are descendents of the men who 
 helped found this nation, are today not giving your- 
 selves to the service of the community as you should 
 give yourselves. It is almost impossible to get men 
 of higher interests and higher ability to give up a 
 little bit of their time. I do not mean to go down 
 and serve at Washington, or even to go and serve 
 at Lansing, but to serve right here in the City of 
 Detroit for the higher interests of the people. Pat- 
 
 58 
 
riotism like love, begins at home, and a man cannot 
 claim to be a patriot who is a patriot only when the 
 nation is in danger, and refuses to be a patriot when 
 his city needs his individual support and help. So 
 I simply leave — putting out all other thoughts — that 
 one idea, as a test of your patriotism, and of mine, 
 as to whether or not we are patriots in fact, whether 
 we love enough our own people, to give them here, 
 in our own community, our best, our highest service. 
 I thank you. (Applause.) 
 
 Toastmaster: Without further formality, we 
 will bring our delightful and profitable evening to 
 a close. 
 
 59 
 
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