;.• ,•>'■'*. -.y^ '*• "'•^<-<^'^'' ' -fife'' "^^-Z ''^* ' ""-^-^^^ ' 0* c'>A'..*0. .j,*^ .. .^'\ .-i" . ' OF DIREOTOR8 OS T H « ITiiliiea' 'Ciirarq IsHnnntian, •SAZEITE PRINT, KALAMAZOO. 1855. O.Tf.. 24 0'flD CIROULj^B It ia in contemplation, by the Ladies of Kal-r^mazoo, to celebrate tha terraina- iion of tlie fi-rst quarter of a ckntury, sinco the settlement of that Viiiago by white Inhabitants, and in reference to such an event, thoy are anxicus to colldcc as much authentic information as possible, relative to its early existence. To you, as one of the pioneer residents, whose memory must supply many interesting and important facts, the Committee appointed for that purpose, res- pectfully suggest the following important points of interest, regarding which they would feel obliged by any information in your power, accompanied by as precise dates as possible. The Indian tribes inhabiting this region, and their intercourse with the whit* •ettlors. The political and civil organization of the County and Village. Th« errly liistory of the difTerent churches and schools, with the dates of their or- ganization ; and all such personal and local recollections as may occur to your mind, as suitable for such a purpose. The committee will feel grateful for «n early answer to their application, embodying such information and remiui«c«nc«ii ia a written form, and addressed to any oii© of their number. Mrs. a. S. KEDZIE. •• J. A. B. STONE, *• D. B. WEBSTEH. •* A. RANSOM, Kalaiuzoo, March 2, 1853. ** £L TEAVSIL IMTlBODUCTIOIf. The foregoing circular was forwarded to many of the early settlers of Kala-= mazoo, but unfortunately, was responded to in writing, by very few. It had, however, the good effect to notifv a large number of friends, who encouraged and aided by their presence, in carrying out the objects of the Association. From the commencement of its organization, it has been the intention of the " IjAdies' Library Association," to preserve all the historical rtcords thatcan be obtained* of the early condition of this village and county. They have therefore endeav- ored to obtain, from persons now living, such information as they might be able to communicate. The few answers they have received to their solicitations, will be found m another part of this volume. To those gentlemen who have so kindly favored us with their reminiscences, the thanks of the Association are cordially tendered. But these thanks, heartfelt and ardent as they certainly are, cannot compare with those, that will arise from the bosoms of our children's children, when in after years they tell the unbroken story of the progress of this beautiful village, from the hands of its savage occupants to its present enviabio position. It is not common for a community or society to celebrate so short an existence ae the fourth of a eentur)'. Generally, a century is allowed to pat^s, before an attempt is made to gather its historical fragments, and then they are gone, whose fearless hearts, and hands of power, had made the forest bow, and planted civilization in the place of savaga rule- But in this case, we have m our midst the very men who figured in the infancy of the village ; and when another quarter of a century shall come round, they may be found, still active, and vigorous. God grant they may then be ablo to testify to the events, it is notf our pleasure to ehronicle* :k:a.la.m\a.zoo Kalamazoo is the County-seat of Kalamazoo Countv, situ.v u nP°u ^^® ^^^'^^ ^^ ^^^ *^"^^ "^"^^' ^"^ "earlv midway oa the Michigan Central Railroad, between Chicago and Detroit. It IS surrounded by a rich, well watered, and fertile country ; bv numerous small prairies, and by quiet, romantic lakes. Ihe village ]s regularly laid out, adorned with elegant and substantial buildings, for business, with comfortable and taste- p ^ n 1^"^^^' ^"^ beautified by trees and shrubbery. " The Bur Oak plain," upon which it is situated, is the spot selected by Cooper m his "Oak Openings,"^ for the introduction of his "Uee Plunter," who is an actual character, though now. untortunately for us, residing in a neighboring^ State. The beautiful native trees, which areusually the hrst object of attack to the pioneer, are hsve all )wei to stand in their primitive grace ; and add more than all other objects, to the ovelmess of the village. The prevalence of the forest trees has given the place the title of " Bur Oak City." though it has only a village charter. The trees, of stately growth, and relreshing shade, give it the appearance of greater age than belongs to it ; for it is little more than 25 years since the first civilized settlements were made here; and now, we have among us, men in the prime of life, who well remember the war-whoop of the savage, and the wild howl of the wolf, as he made his nightly rounds of plunder and death. Without any invidious comparisons, it may perhaps be safely attirmed, that Kalamazoo is the most picturesque of all the p easant villages of Michigan. It has the air of a New En- gland town, except that the animation of iis bustling population would soon convince a stranger that he was far away from the quiet of his earlier home. Possessing an extensive trade with the country north, west, and south, for the last vear or two It has sliipped more wheat than any other place on the Railroad. ^ Unhke many of our western vilbges, its population is more American than foreign ; and is variously estimated from 5000 to 7000 inhabitants. They are distinguished for their enter- prise public spirit, inteJligence, and pride of their chosen dwelling place. ©|e "J-^lm filjrarg |lss0chtion Was organized in the year 1852, by several ladies of th© viiiage. Their object was, not only personal improvement, but aiso to cultivate, in the community generally, and espec- ially in the rising generation, a taste, for such books as are real!}' u-seful To accomplish these results, they collected a 1/ibr.iry, and obtaijied a charter. The Association is managed by a bourd of twelve officers annually chosen, and since its com- mencement has been steadily gaining upon the confidence of tlie public; while the Library, yet in its infancy, has become an object of interest, and a source of i?ood to all who have availed themselves of its advantages. Early in (he history of the Association, it was proposed to celebrate the compietioji of the first quarter of a century, since the •' Bur Oak plain " was surrendered by the savages, to the children of civilization. The subject was under consideration for some time, and it was finally (Jecided to attempt such a celebration. It was ascer- tained that the 21st day of June, 1854, marked the period of twenty-five years since sucb settlement was made. That day was therefore decided upon, and arrangements were made to celebrate the event in a becoming manner. Notice waa circulated, by means of newspapers, and hand-bills, and the interest of the community generally enlisted. E. Lakin Brown, Esq., from a neighboring town, and Col. CuRTENius, from our own vicinity, were appointed to act, as poet and orator. They freely responded to the wishes of the Ladies, and their interesting prodp.ctions will be found in another part of this volume, . At this stage of events, the assistance of the gentlemen was solicited, and promptly ren- dered ; and all the preliminary arrangements were judiciously made. A bountiful dinner providing for three hundred persous, was prepared by the Association, assisted by the Ladies of the village. The Firemen's Hall was selected as the place for the dinner, and was tastefully decorated with paiotio^* jind 6owerB. The ftiorniDg of the fist was dnrk and cloudj^^ving cti- ^ence of an unpleasant day, and the threatening look* of the heavens appeared to indicate that the pleasantness of the celebration would be seriously diminished by winds iand storm, but like liie progress of our city, as time advanced, the clouds broke away, and by 11 o'clock in tlie morning, the sun shone forth in all its briliancy upon a refreshing scene, giving hopes of the most hnpny re^uit. The rains of the nmrning liad cooled and puriiied the air, and all was animation beneaih the oaken shade. At about half-past ten o'clock, our citizens assembled at tho Court House lor the purpose of participating m the exercises of our first "quarter century" celebration, and in a few motnents the house was filled to oversowing. Among the audience present, we witnessed many of the old pioneeis of the village, who were all interest and attention during tlse exercises. There were many strangers also present. V/e were particularly pleased to see so many of the youth of this village, the attention they exhibited, and the order and decorum with w'hich they behaved. The exercises were commonced by a few opening, and appropriate remarks, by the Prt sMontof the dav.Ex-GovERoa Ransom, after which the foilcvving order of exercises w'as observed. 1. Music by the Kalamazoo band. 2. Hymn read by Prof Graves^ and sung by the congre- gation. 3. Prayer by Rev. Mr. TIoyt. 4. Singing by the Glee Club. 5. Address by F. W. Curtenius. G. Singing by the Glee Club. 7. Poem, by Mr. E. L. Brown, of Schoolcraft. Tlie address of Ccl. Curtenius was listened to with deep interest and attention, not only as a Hnishcd literary production, but as a review of tlie past, and a well drawn ideal of the future. It created a favorable and lasting impression upon his auditors. The poem of E. Lakin Brown fully met the high wrongfit expectations of his friends. Its classic beauty and high t ;ne render it worthy of a place in the front rank of the poetical literature of the age. After the exercises at the Court House, the assembly pro- ceeded to the Firemen's Hall where an excellent dinner had been prepared (by the Ladiei' Library Association,) and those present, following the advice of the President, -'felltoandf spared not." After dinner the following volunteer and regulai toasts were given : Hegiilai- Toasts 1st. The Quarter Certliry Celebration, of (he settlement of Kalamazoo by white mhabitants — its value can only be appreciated by those who come after us. Responded to by Joseph Miller, Jr. 2nd. The Church and School house — in new, as in old countries, indispensable and inseparable. Responded to by Prof. Stone. 3d. Kalamazoo and its like — necessary lessons in the World's education. Responded to by Rev. A. S. Kedzie. 4th. The Ladies* Library Association — like some of its lamented founders, already immortal. Responded to by W. C. Dennison. 5th. The Bur' Oak City— a sure prophecy. Responded to bv N. A. Ealch. 6th. The Kalamazoo Theological Seminary — ** a city that is set on a hill cannot be hid." Responded to by Prof. Graves. 7th. Our Firemen — helpers in fiery trials — the real cold \ water men of the age. Responded to by W. C. Ransom. 8th. The Kalamazoo Farmers — reaping as they have sowed c Responded to by Joseph Miller, of Richland. 9th. The Press — Reformation by information. Responded to bv J. W. Breese. 10th. The Early Settlers— " workmen that need not be ashamed." Responded to by Gov. Ransom. 11th. Our public improvements — elements of a higher civ- lization. Responded to by Rev. Mr. Hoyt. 12lh. The day we celebrate — the 25th anniversary of th® settlement of Kalamazoo — it presents a broad and happy contrast to the " land-office times " of 'S5 and '36, RespojJ- ded to by T. S. AtLee. By E. H. Huntington. The decoration of the Firemen* Hall, for the present occasion — but another expression of the refined taste and excellent sense of the ladies of Kalamazoo. By iVir. AtLee. The iMremen of Kalamazoo — in adversity ©ur best friends, in prosperity our honor and boast. The Glee Club and Kalamazoo band — their notes are good, and will always pass current in our midst. By S. S. Cobb. The Ladies' Library Association of Kala- mazoo — " brought up " on ice cream, it shovvs by its condition that it has had wholesome food; The Village of Kalamazoo — ^yet in its infancy, who can say Shat it is not a " prettv smart child for one of its age." By li. S. Babcock." The 2ist day of June, 1854— may this be a day long remembered by us all ; and may the next quar- ter century show a great increase in wealth, population, refinement, and all that constitutes a desirable acquisition to our glorious village of Kalamazoo. By S. S. Cobb. E. L. Brown, Esq., fro.m whose lips we have listened to the beautiful poem delivered this day ; may he live to favor us in like manner, on a similar occasion, a quarter of a century hence. By Mr. Frank Alley. The day we celebrate — the 21st of June, the longest day in the year. May the events of the day live longest in the memory of this association. The pioneer Mothers of Kalamazoo — if present, they might exclaim with the Roman mother, " these are my jewels." By N. A. Balch. The mothers of the East — may they ever be as well represented in the West, as by their fair daughters on this occasion. The pioneer women of Kalamazoo— the wilderness and the solitary place are glad for them, and children's children will rise up and call them blessed. By O. Starr. The Ladies of Kalamazoo — a rare combi- nation of bright flowers; gn embodiment of truth, love, and virtue. We exult in their Jirmness ; applaud their goodness, weep over their faults, and love, cherish, and protect thera always. By Doct. Ilendee, Dentist, &c. The Ladies of Kalamazoo ---none present doubt their ability to get up the best filling for teeth. By Rev. Mr. Ke !zic. Col. Curtenius, the farmer, the citt- •zen, and the orator. 2* Yoltisatecr Toasts By Mr. AtLee. Silas Lovell Esq., of Ionia, Mich., our respected invited guest ; our first Justice of tiiC Peace, and the pioneer who erected tiie first frame for a dwelling house in Kalamazoo. We cordially welconie him in our midst. Responded to by Mr. Lovell. By James P. Clapham. The memory of the late Gen. Burdick, one of the original pioneers and founders of Kala- mazoo, to him w^e are indebted for its prosperity, and fur the preservation of our beautiful burr oaks. By Judge Webster. The memory of Titus Bronsou, one of our earliest pioneers, and the first proprietor of a part of the plat of Kalamazoo. By Rev. C. C. Taylor. The mem.ory of the Rev. George Wrshington Cofe — honored, sacred, blessed. i^y George A. Filch. The Press and Cofiimon Schools — twin spirits of progress and reform. By Prof. Stone. Judse Harrison, Cooper's Bee hunter, tha greatest bee hunter of the age, and ihi', the greatest swarm lie ever discovered. By E. Lakin Brown, of Schoolcraft: The Ladies' Library Association of Kalamazoo— Siill, still pet-kirj£r knowleilgo, true daiiglitcts of Eve ; They eat of tire fruit withoiU notice to leave : Nay, so far from bidding rlieir Eden adieu, ''J'is this that makes Eden of Kalamiizoo ! By N. A. Balch. The Ladies of Kalamazoo — Literaturs and Science boast their patronage ; genius and beauty grov7 resplendent by their taste ; religion and morality own them as champions; the nch rejoice in their smiles, and the poor are made glad by their pi-ese^ice. By Mr. DeYoe. Ke Kalamazoo — the boilinsf pot, fnay its aboriginal name be held ever sacred, and may tiie wholesome fires of public improvement, enterprji^e, irileJligence and phi- lanthropy never go cut in cur midst. By H. S. (^obb. JNairie llonde, the Garden of tlio We^t. By J. ('. flays. The l^adies of Kalamazoo — their beau5v surpasses even tiiat of their beautiful village, and tlieir perse- veiance equals the indouutable spirit o'f trie early pioneers. 11 By Prof. Graves. The 21st day of June — it requires iUs longest (lay in the year to do justice to this occasion. By L. H. Tiask. Kahimazoo, proverbial as fair and beau- tiful in her youth — may her malurer years be brilliant with •uch gems as virtue, morality and benevolence. By J. R. Mansell. The quarter century anniversary of the village of Kalamazoo — an agreeable exchange from the hunting-ground and war-whoop of the child of nature, to th« embellishments of civilization ; may temperance, humanity, and virtue, guide its onward course, that its future may be a* propitious as the past. By W. C. Ransom. The surviving pioneers — may the frosts of autumn touch them lightly ; the last of life the best. Anon — Our worthy President and the oiiicers of the day : may they all meet together under like happy circumstances, before we say " farewell forever." By W. C. Dennisoii. The arithmetic of the west— multt- pHcation and addition — no subtraction or division. By V. Plascail. The Ladies of the Kalamazoo Library Association — engaged in the elevation of mind, may they never encourage any other distinctions in society than those which grow out of the right development of this god-like attribute. It was a day, long to be remembered in the annals of our village, not only from its close alliance with our local affairs, but from the perfect union and good fellowship which seemed to pervade all. Address of Col, Curteiims.^ Mr. President: — What means this gathering? Is it the sabbath, and are we here to worship supremacy, as we are wont to do on that sacred day? No ! in various ways I am reminded that it is not the Sabbath. Is it the anniversary of our Country's Independence, and are we assembled for the purpose of welcoming its return ; our bosoms overflowing with joy and gratitude ? No ! else we had heard the pealing of bells, and the boom of artillery, the usual heralds of such an occasion. Surely, the foot of no foe is pressing our frontier, and we are not convened for the purpose of maturing plans for mutual defence ? So far from it, we are at peace with all the world. Neither is it a gathering to express our indignation at some glaring outrage on the part of the Government ; that's the province of the politician, and wholly incongenial with present purposes. Nor yet is it to celebrate some fancied victory at the Ballot-bos, or some glorious achievement upon the tented field. Now the occasion contemplates no such features as these. Motives eharacterized by novelty on the one hand, blendmg interest with pleasuie and utility on the other, contrib- ute larg'ely to the excitement of the day. While ihe embroidery, and the various domestic arrangments of one portion of my audience are laid aside, and dismissed from their minds for the time being, with another portion, the plough has been left to stand idly in the furrow, — the plane and the chisel to stand cosily together upon the bench, and the hammer to repose quietly at the foot of the anvil, and we are found assembled for the purpose of celebrating the tri- umphs of PERSEVERANCE, of TASTE, aud of TOIL. A quartcr of a century havmg been stricken from the roll of time, since civilization first dawned upon the spot we now occupy, a spot endeared to us by the name of home, it were well to pause a little and contemplate our position. Memory, laden with th« jems of the past, comes and lays them down beside the fruit IS « f the present, and provokes comparison. As the events of the last twenty-five years roll in review before us, reflections partaking of various hues are awakened. Prosperity and adversity — ^joy and sorrow — success and defeat, each in turn contributes to swell the train, and to arrest the attention. Not- withstanding, inemory, faithful to her great commission, arrays before the mind scenes, rich in pleasure, lich in whatever nn- parts happiness and satisfaction to the heart : it is equally faithfid to lead many to the grave, and there temper their joy with their sorrow. It is through sunshine and showers -- through tears and smiles that the past is always to be reviewed. It is more particularly in consonance with our design to linger upon the past and present of our village — to wander back a quarter of a century, and to look in upon it, as it lay sleeping in its cvadle, — to watch, (as many of us have done,) its first feeble, tottering steps — to revive the emotions of pleasure it afforded, as from time to time, it gave evidence of a wholesome approach to maturity, and to speak, (as we do to-day,) of its present, prosperous condition. How great is the change whicii has come over " thij spirit of our early dreams. But a little while since, and Kalamazoo was known only as the haunt of the Indian, — to-day, no spot in Michigan is a centre of more attraction and beauty. We do not claim for it the splendor of Rome, nor the gaiety of Paris, nor the com- mercial prosperity of an overgrown metropolis, nor the literature of a Cambridge, nor the wealth of a New En( those other little convenies ces which would contribute to his repose. His safety, not his comfort requi- ring it, he gathered together a few handsfnll of fuel, and by the aid of steel and flint, a cheerful flame threw Us light upon the water. These preparations consummated with no requium but th<3 hootiiig of the owl or the occasional howhng of the wolf; he threw himself upon the earth, and like a tired child soon forgot his troubles and his trials, and buried them in sleep. Forget did I say; not all, not everyiiiing ; he dreamed, he dreamed of his home, of his family, of his friends. He thought he was in their midst, and over and over again he repeated the story of his wanderings; he told them of the dense forests he had penetrated ; of the extended plains 15 over which he had Ira' eled, wiih here and there a tree stand- ing out in isolat(Hl grandeur, arrayed in a wealth of foliage, im- parting to the scene the deceptive appearrince of civilized hfe with none of its reality; he lingered in his tale, upon tho beautiful Prairies over which he passed, sown as he said, brod- cast wifii flowers ; he told of lakes and lakelets without num- bers, presenting surfaces not nniike burnished steel ; and while to the hunter, he spoke of deer and moose — he delighted thy children with stories of skipping fawns and birds of varied plumage. That n'ght like all other nights ended, and the sun of anoth- er dav dissipated at once the dew and the dream. The land whjch fancy had created retired before the lund which, owed its creation to a higher power. In the stream which looed the banks upop which he had slept, his mornins: ablution was performed. This done, and a hastv meal bearing an a})pai!ing resemblance to many a previous one, f)rtified him for another day's exploiis. With staif and budget thrown across liis shoulders he entered the stream, and in due time gained the opposite bank. While to some, the passage of a river, or the threading of a forest presents a formiflable obstacle, to the pioneer and the aspirant for adventure they are triflef;, — '• Trifles light, as air." The stream f/rdcd, his dii^ordered dress arranged, and (^n he went. Ever and anon he would pause and gaze and ad- mire. The day and the scone were such as would have woed the pencil. The Burr-oaks, (just as they arc to-day,) were out in full fohage and as he oc^casionally stopped and distuii)ed the soil with his foot or his sJaff. the exclamation would involuntary escape him, — "surely nature has been lavish here." Less than a mile of his journey had been accomplished when a mound stood directly in his pathway. Whether plan- led there by the hand of nat'.-ire, or whether art had assigned it was a problem which he was unable to solve. Without any decision, he again and again made its circuit. He then ascerjded to its summit, and as he gazed upon the surrounding •scene, his eye fell upon the garden beds of a tribe long since passed away, even beyond the bounds of tradition. I'hea h^ knew diat man was its author. And there upon that mound, not unlike a bronzed statute. 16 his Arms crossing liis bosom, methinksl can even now behold him standing. » Backwards, forwards, with his eye he swept the landscape, all the while his countenance lighted up with a smile, as if some p'easing panorama was moving before him. Then he would change his position for the purpose of catch- ing a newer vision, in the meanwhile the same smile of com- placency triumphing. Northward, away in the distance, which he could indis- tinctly discern through the intervening foliage was spread out one of natures giant meadows, inviting the scythe and telling of grazing herds. To the east he knew that a slug- gish stream meandered, for he had pleasantly dreamed upon its banks the night before. Then he turned to the south, and before him was mapped a luxuriant plain, which his judg- ment lold was equally adapted to the plat or the ploughshare; while to the west, a beautiful amphitheatre of hills of variou« heigius shut out a view of scenery beyond. In imagination, upon those hills he saw countless flocks feeding, and here and there, a villa, half concealed in shrub- bery. All this, he saw m fancy, and was satisfied. ** Here then," he exclaimed "is my journey's end.'"' " This is the Canaan, of which long I've dreamed." For hours, solitary and alone, he surveyed his little world, more and more en- chanted with the scene. His whole mind was absorbed in prospective plans. Virions of well-filled coflers — of untold tlocks and herds — and of groaning graineries constantly floated before him, and more tliaii once he thought the rust- Ting of the leaves spoke of fame and prowess. Every nook and corner of territory was closely scanned, with a view to the selection of a site for his future domicile. The selection of a desirable spot, combining all those ad- vantages, of which the pioneer is so chary, brought his la- bors to a termination. In process of time an unassuming cabin graced the selected isite, and in it, the wanderer and his family, with no evidence* of civilization around him, were securely inducted. All this way seem to wear the livery of fiction, and yet, like a irutli- fid historian, 1 have scrupulously endeavored to chronicle facts. Let the sequel furnish the test of fidelity to truth. The stream, upon which the weary wanderer i^lept in the summer of ]829. was the Kalamazoo. It glides there siilL T:iie Burr-oak plain, upon which he entered after fording \\w. ir river, is the sight of our beautiful village ; the mound upo| which he stood as he gazed on the surrounding scene and made the decision that it should be his home, still stands in yonder park, a monument, not only for a race lost to history or even tradition, but of the good taste of those v^^ho having the power, yet refused to exercise that power m its destruction. The luxuiiant meadow, which, through the foliage he could but indistinctly discern, is spread out there still, furnishing ample employment for the scythe, and abundance of food for the ox. The foundation of an asylum, which will one day reflect credit upon the place — the embryo college — the cemetery and various mansions are beginning to crown the western emi- nences m perfect accordance with the predictions of the far- •ecing pioneer. The humble cabin, to which we referred, has ceased to ex- ist to the eye. but to the memory of your speaker and to many of his hearers, it is as fresh as when it presented its unassuming proportions. In 1835 it was the residence of one who subsequently be- came the Chief Justice and the Chief Magist'^ale of Michigan. The builder and primary occupant of that cabin — the pio- neer of this village, and the travel-stained and weary adven- turer who slept upon the banks of the Kalamazoo a quarter of a century since, are one and the same — (to- wit:) Titus Bron- •on. It may not be known to all my audience, that for sever- al years this village was known as the village of Bronson, and as such always appeared upon the original maps of the ►State. It may not be devoid of interest, perhaps, to pause a mo- ment and enquire who is Titus Bronson. When we said that he was tall and spare and sun burnt, with a countenance bespeaking intellect and determinaljon. we described the man as he appeared to us. His mind was a store-house of histori- cal facts, strangely mingled with chimeras. The world was not created exactly in accordance with his ideas of propriety and perfection ; nor was society formed precisely upon the right baois. His study seemed to be, to devise plans for rec- tilying both. Few men possessed a memo»y so tenacious of whatever came within its grasp. Reading was to him a ■ource of infinite pleasure, and whatever he read, was treai ured up, apparently without an effort, and could be referred, to years afterwards with reliability. 3* 18 Often when we have encountered him, whether by the way-side, or in the field, or the forest, we have lingered for hours and learned of him. Whenever our conversation took that direction, he would travel back for centuries, and with an accuracy that was truly astonishing, he would run over the history of Rome, and Greece, and Carthage, from the day rhey were founded to the day they crumbled. With these subjects we supposed that we were somewhat familiar, yet we acknowledge we could learn of him. Eccentricity, coupled with an abrupt and unfortunate freedom of speech, reckless of his audience, begat in the minds of many a bitter dislike for him. By nature, a species of cosmopolite, no spot on earth havmg a strong iiold upon him ; soon tired with fa- njiliar objects, easily mortified by any appearances of neglect » tfiese added to an insatiable desire to identify his name with some giant achievement, were sufficient inducements for him to part with his interest in our village plat, and with tlie pro- ceeds, (unregretted save by a few ) he took once more the direction of the setting sun. Rumor, smce his departure, h;i3 sptiken of him at distant periods, and even then, but faintly. Five years since, and it was whispered that he was houseless, wifeless, penniless, spiritless; — Still later, (some two yeais ago,) and worn out in his endeavors to achieve some great exploit, broken-hearted , he emigrated to a land '' where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." We introduced him to you sleeping upon the banks of the Kalamazoo, we leave bim sleeping (" that sleep which knows no waking") upon the banks of the Mississippi, furnishing additional evidence that the path of fame and weahh, like the path of glory leads but to the grave. Such are some of the incidents connected with the early settlement of our embryo city. Identified with its infancy, are names perhaps more fauiiliarto my audience. Conspicu- ous among them,' are those of Cyrus Lovell, Major Edwards, Judge Ransom, Samuel II. Ransom, Genl. Burdick.. Judge Burdick, Doctors Porter, Abbott and Starkweather, Isaa-j Vickery. Silas Trowbridge, 'I heodore P. Sheldon, John i*. Marsh.^Amariah T. Prout^% Luther H. Trask, Rollin Woo. I, and though last, by no means least, Col. Thomas C. Sheldon, who wiihin the last ten days has taken his depaiture tor '• that bourne from wiience r^o traveller returns." 19 With sach an array of the elements of success ; with so anuch intelligence, perseverance, industry and pride of char- acter, it IS by no means surprising that a foundation so tirnri and permanent \vas laid, and that such a wealth of prosperity has resulted from their etforts. Succeeding these but a few years, came a class, whose displays of taste (ornamental, ar- chitectural and horticultural) have won for us the celebrity of a "model village." Though sufficiently vigorous and marked in its incipicncy, yet its growth, in comparison with the forced growth of other villages in Michigan might be considered slow and unwar- rantable. While others, under hot-bed appliances, leaped, (as It were ) into maturity ours was characterized by a sure and steady advancement. What, I would ask, is the com- parative position to-day ? Where is the village in the west that occupies a prouder place, or can boast of a more glo- rious and splendid prospective? Set memory at won^ : search anywhere and everywhere, within a circle hav?^ n diameter of two hundred miles, and then name the spot. Where will you find one v»rhose educational wants arc butici t>upplied, — whether common school — academic or theological ? Though there is ample room yet for improvement, where is there one, outside of New England, where morals take a wider range? Who has ever known her to disgrace herself with a mob or a murder ? Where will you find one whose sky is pierced by more spires — whose courts are more nu- merously pressed, whose pulpits are more ably filled — or the Gospel proclaimed with a less uncertam sound ! where, I re- peat it, where ? Show me one, whose merchants are charac- terized by more mlegrity ; whose Ledgers are more honestly posted, or whose prospects of one day becoming princes and closing their career on these western heights, amid splendor and honor and usefulness, are fairer f Whose mechanics rival ours — whether it be in mtelligence or skill or taste ? In what village do physicians find less pntients, or lawyers less clients ? Disease and htigatton find no fostermg spirits here. Tell me — where do appeals to sympathy or benevo- lence meet with a readier response? Where is hospitality more a bye-word, or patriotism and public spirit more thor- oughly ditfused ? Where are village newspapers better sus- Uined or more ably conducted ? Where will you find a more convenient, or a better arranged Post Office? — where more mailable matter, in proportion to its population, whether ir be newspapers or correspondence t Where are better house-wives — and a prospect of plenty more, just budding into womanhood ? where is a taste for lit- erature more extensively cultivated, than among the ladies of Kalamazoo? It would consume too much time to follow up these comparisons and contrasts. What will be the termina- tion of all this proficiency and success ? Will it be the mean* of inducing a relaxation of efforts, or will success already reached, cause us to pant after still further success? But to continue for a moment longer this train of thought. Where have candidates for the Presidency talked longer or louder than among our groves — or the people shouted longer or louder in reply ? As additional and still further evidence of our value and our importance, into what village (in the Union) has Execu- tive patronage flowed so profusely ? and where has jealousy been excited in consequence of it, to such an extent? What village is at the same time, heard in the Senate and House of Representatives of the Union ? What village en- rolls among its Bankers more ex-governors and ex-judges? — What comniunity can boast of millers who take less toll or turn out choicer brands ? To all these enquiries comes back the echo *• v^here." We might ask what village is environed by such fertility, or such an approved system of husbandry. Where is there such evidence of versatility and at the sair»« time of success ? To-day a merchant, to-morrow a farmer, — lo-day a farmer, to-morrow a merchant, — one day a mechan- ic, the next a grocer, — to day behind the plow, to-morrow be- hind the counter. There seems to be but a step between the furrow and the forum; between the plow and the platform. It would seem as though circumstances throwing us upon our own resources have made us a " peculiar people." These coaipansons in which I have indulged are not purely imagi- native, so far from it, they will be found, when closely scan- ned, to be life-like and characteristic. To the sensitive and the unassuming, the picture may bt thought too highly tinted — still facts have been aimed at, leaving to the future historian, the province of correcting or eadorsing. Upda an occasion like this (a quarter century festival) u 21 becomes us as far as possiblo to view tiie scene, with the sun falling brightly upon it, and not with a surcharged cloud hang- ing just above. It were a more grateful task U) put to your lips the sunny side of the peach. I might take you to the church yard and enter into a mathe- matical calculation with regard to the cost of all these achieve- ments, over which we have been boasting. After all it would teach us no lesson, buc our frailly, and might have a tendency to throw a pall over the festivities of the day, At best, the earth is but one grave-yard — at every step. you tread upon the dead. Though you take no heed of it, kH me caution you to step lightly, for your feet are continually pressing a grave ; I repeat, step lightly. And, since our thoughts have taken this direction, allow mt to enquire, where is the village which can boast of a cemeltry ■o romantic and lovely as yours ? where one so replete with grandeur and beauty ? Wliy as you thread its avenues, (just aa twilight is melting into night,) and gaze upon the quiet rest- ing place of the dead, the grave is actually despoiled of itt Tictory. and as your mirid reverts to the various •' ills to which flesh is heir," and the thousand cares and perplexities of lift worm themselves unbidden in your bosom, you can contem- plate the monument with complacency, and only think of tho ■leeper beneath, with emotions of ecslacy or envy. And now while we are roaming about that "m untain home," perhaps it would be right, nay, it is right, indeed, it would be wrong, it would be cruel, not to go and stand beside a new mad« grave. It's treasure, a mother and her children. And though it was far, far away, that the spirit and the body of that fond mother was divorced, yet in obedience to hcrdymg wish, she is permitted to sweetly sleep almost within' the em- l^race of her oflspri'.jg. Beloved by you all, and prominent in your association, it r« t« her influence and perseverance, as much as to any other, that the festivities of this day had th"}ir inception. Her lil» •ked out to this hour, and she would have been identified with this vast throng. While to-day vve are assembled, full of glee at the achievements of the oast, pluming ourselves jpon the triumphs of architecture, witli which our village abounds, mcihinks I can see her lookmg down upon us, her countenance radiant with the deepest solicitude, and can al- nioit catch the whisper as it steals from her parted lips " h* 22 IJUILDS TOO LOW, WHO BUILDS BENEATH THE STARS *, " " HE BUILDS TOO LOW, WHO BUILDS BENEATH THE STARS." It is alQiost unnecessary to say, that it is to Mrs. Kedzie that 1 alluiie. Most of you do know her well, and you who know her best, will longest cherish her memory. Without an enemy she lived, without an enemy she died, and for aught I know, or c?n leara, without a sin. As an appropriate offering to distinguished worth, the ladies of this Association, (of which fhe whs eminently its founder without any narrow reference to denominational distinction,) cannot better express their admiration for her virtues, than by the erection of a suitable inonument with a view to their perpetuation. When done, let the chisel sink deep into the granite shaft, the senti- ment "HE BUILDS TOO LOW, WHO BUILDS BENEATH THE STARS." Until such a memorial 'is consummated, metliinks virtue is but half rewarded. Man slays his thousands, scatters misery broadcast over the land, (often in a cause of exceedingly doubtful merit') and yet amid triumph and applause he is hurled into official position ho elevated, tMat moral worth, and talent and patriot- ism st'dgc*er under the idea of even essaying to reach it, or perchance he falls upon the field, and to-morrow a foundation broad and deep is laid in the earth, from which shoots up a column to such a height that its summit plays with the clouds ; thus perpetuating the hero's memory, and beguiling others to like achie 'foments. Dangerous display of popular sentiment. " iVot to the ensanguined field of death alone, is valor limited ; she sits serene in the deliberate council, Scan's each i^ource of action ; — weighs, prevents, provides, And scorns to count her glories fronm the feats Of brutal force alone.' But to return to the subject proper ; what I would ask, is the probable future of Kalamazoo. I make vo pietentions to 'the gift of prescience, or at all events, the most unas- suming, bat judgmg of the future by the past, and relying much upon its favorable geographical position, I may safely venture to predict more than ordinary results. As may be seen by the various comparisons and contrasts which have been instituted, it will at once occur to the hearer, that we have in our midst, and around us, many of the elements which enter into the growth, and contribute largely to the prosperity of a ciiy. And who doubts, where is the mafe 23- who doubts that the village of Kalamazoo will ere long throw off its primitive vestments, and merge into a city of beautiful and desirable proportions '! How can we doubt, when as our eye traverses this audience, ii now and then rests upon tlic wife of a future Alderman, and e'en upon Aldermen them- selves, who while we are speaking about a city charter, are indulging in visions of c(>rporaiion feasts and turtle soup. Indeed, we are to-day a city, so far as a Fire Deparlment is concerned, in the full fruition of its privileges and immuni- ties. When the next quarter of a century festivnl comei^ around, a Mayor and Common Council will grace it with their presence, and participating in its festiviti^.s, will be l» perfect avalanche of muscle and mind. Alcohol will then not only be banished from the city, by law, but I very much fear t^^a and coffee will be deemed con- traband by custom and by physiology. And, to the delight of the assemblage on that occasion^ a Glee Club, now in embryo, will sing the beautiful and touching song — " Fakevvei-l to tea, to-day — tight boots AND TOBACCO." Many of us now in the prime of life, will tht-n either have exchanged our home here, for one upon yonder mountain, or will be seen leaning upon onr staffs, fighting our battles over again, or rehearsing stories of privation and i^truggles, while founding the village and the city. As if is to-day, I trust the occasion will then be a joyous one. There is nothing now to throw a gloom over the coun- tenance ; it's the gem month of the year, and it would seem as i{ the very birds and flowers had caught the spirit of the da\% and were leagued together in filling the air with melody and perfume. A friend visited me a few days since. It was his fir«t ap- pearance in Micnigan ; and like every sensible man who looks in upon us in the month of June, he was delighted Of Kalamazoo, rumor had often spoken, and he longed to behold it. And when he had fairly seen it. he said it remind- ed him of the story told by Virgil, of the simple spepherd who visited Home for the first time. He had always lived in a retired hamlet away in the interior of Italy. And when at length he had reached the city and entered its gate and sur- veyed for a time in muteness, its grandeur and its greatness^ kie was perfectly astonished. 24 "He expected " he said "to find it in proportion to his na- tive vilia^re, as the ewe to the lamb, but the proportion was 19 the oak to the acorn." So in imagination, this friend of mine, had painted our village, a little hamlet, with here and there a white-washed cottage, a tavern and a blacksmith shop, ■withal a suitable arena for the labors of a missionary. But nfier he had leisurely paced its walks and had encountered its blocks of noble buildings, and beheld others in the procesi of erection, which bid fair to excel their predecessors; when his eye fell now upon a mansion almost buried in foliage, and then upon another half smothered with rotes, when church after church rose up to condemn him, as it were, for his hasty judgement, to make amends for his folly, he determined to em- brace the first opportunitv of writing to his wife, that instead of being somebody, his tour to the west had convinced him that he was little better than the "simple Roman Shepherd." All this has been accoinplisfied. Ladies, and yet we have but just leaped out of the cradle, and are making, (with a fee- ble toaennij step) some expeiiments in walkinof. Still there is manhood before us ; time has much in reserve to encourage and reward our industry and our enterprise. His busy fin- gers are never idle — the f)iilse and the chronometer may •top, but lime never — never did I say, yes ! time once tar- ried. The -^un once stood still for hours, over the plains of Gibeon, and the moon hunii: pale and motionless over the vale of Ajalon. But we'll have no stopping of the sun or moon here, our village marshal will attend to that. What, after all, has contributed more than anything else, to give celebrity to our village and to make such a favorable impression upon the stranger mind? Not so much its evidence of refinement, as the good taste which has been exhibited in permitting the glorious oaks to itand just where God, with his own right hand planted them. How many exclamations of admiration have these trees elic- ited, scattered as they are over the plain in lovely disorder? How many fruitless attempts elsewhere, to equal, if not excel us, by a resort to artificial means? The eflforts by rival villages, are laudable and noble, and will have praise- worthy results. Why, recently Mr. Bowen (of the distin- guished firm of Bowen & McNamme of New York city) donated to his native village, in one of the New England States, the liberal sum of $600, to he expended in transplant- 2S jng shade treas.throughout its streets. This act alone betrays the emotions of a good man's heart. Even while he lives, ills monument is being erected, and as long as those trees >liali stand, his memory will be as green as their foliage.— One such patron of taste in each village will transmute it into a paradise. Instead of exerting the utmost care in preservmg thepc iialural structures, there are every where found some, hav- ing no love of the beautiful in their souls, who seize upon every opportunity to dish'gure or destroy them. Such men are unworthy of one's friendship, and should be cast aside as only *' fit for treason, stratagem and spoils." In bringing my remarks to a e- vse, allow me, l^adies, to con- gratulate you on the Eden-like termination of your west-ward wanderings; — to congratulate you upon the progress of re- finement wisich society is achieving in your midst : — to con- gratulate you that so many privileges from which you severed yoursblves, when you turned your backs upon your Eastern homes, have so closely fol'oweu you ; that like the missionary you are instrumental in carrying to the verge of civilization, the joys of social existence, that you have escaped the din and confusion of Metropolitan life and find yourselves in the occupancy of a spot, where ev^ry needed luxury is within your grasp and where from morn till eve, your eye can re- fresh itself by sweeping over see ner}^ not unlike the scenery of romance. And not only to congratulate you upon the oc- cupancy of such a {.pot, but of such a spot in such a nation ; a nation whose claims to greatness exceed that of any other upon the face of tho globe. Not a breeze, but is freighted with intelligence of our Vciue and our magnitude. While Europe is filHng up with captives, our cofjntry is filHng up with exiles. At peace with all ; our am.ity courted and hug- ged ; every cannon muzzled, and our marine busy in bearing bread to the starving portions of the world ; v/hat a delight- ful picture does it present to the christian and the philanthro- pist, and how admirably calculated to cultivate a spirit of enthusiasm. The imagination loves to break away from every a-eatraint and go out, and revel in just sucU a field as this. For three quarters of a century we seem to have had the uninterrupted smiles of Supremacy, and it is oaly the pohtical skeptic who is blind to the "manifest destiny" that is in reserve for 41s, 4* 26 Ccntiirv tieading close upon the heel of century, will rolf awry rr d be forgotten, but our nation will stand and blaae en iii MiG ni'dst of increasing glory. Demagogues and de- £... f.i ; pcl^r^cians may shout disunion till their throats are scio. li't fdter not — He'll not permit it. It has been pur- chascvi at a cost of too much treasure, and suffering aid biC :i!; t J be £0 soon sacrificed. " Dissolve this Union, never, T'were e'en a madman's part The golden chain to sever TJiat girdles Freedom's heart. What ! faction rear her altar. And discord wave her brand,. And hearts from duty falter At party's base demand ? Look up ! 'tis Freedom's temple You long to overthrow, And if your arm's uplifled, A demon prompts the blow. Think ! every radiant column. Has cost a Patriot's blood, And would you see them shattered^ Where long in pride they've stood T Dissolve the Union, — never ! You may not, if you would : Go ! traitor, go, forever Hide you, where you should. For he who breathes dissension To shake a people's trust, Should cower back to nothingntWy Or crumble into dust." POEM, JHlivered before the Ladies Library Association of J^h'>y.-B at tk$ Quarter Centennial Celebration of the Setaeiiuni of a.>.m«- 9o;Junt2Ut, 1854. BY E. LAKIN BROWN. When gory war laya waste a happy land. And arms with blood-red scourge oppression's hamd ; When cities sacked, and pillaged farms betray The unmeasured woes that mark the lust of swaj ; Then comes the bard, and with triumphal song Exalts the victor and conceals the wreng : Or, when grown old, out-worn with blood and crime, Some^hoary empire yields to fate and time, In sad, pathetic strains the poe tsings,— Rome's ancient glories, or Assyria's kings. O. humble harps of mine I if such the strain. Well might thy trembling strings be touched in Ttim :- No songs of joy should greet the» warrior's ear Save such as freedom beu is with joy to hear : No sad lament should mourn oppression's fall, Save •' mene tekd " on hsr cruntbling wall. Bat if tl-e noble contest of the free With untamed nature, and f.ie victory ; — If the fair village and the fruitful plain That late usurped wide nature's drear domaii ; — If Kala's fair invite such strains of thine. How should thy numbers swell, O, honored harp of ml Fit were such theme for his immortal strain Who sung * Sweet Auburn ' loveliest of the pUi« ; Yet pensive sung, in mournful garb arrayed, A ruined land, "by luxury betrayed." O. how unlike the theme that greets me now ; — The pearls that shine on Kala's youthful brow I Her brief; bright childhood, drawn on memory'f paj^ And all her glorious hopes of future age 1 I taw thee, Kala,— 'twas but yesterday ; — line 28 When these thronged streets in nature's stillness lay Kala's fair stream that rolled its silver tide, By pendent boujrhs embraced on either side ; The flickering shadows of the leafy trees ; The tall grass waving in the summer breeze ; The grazing d-er, whose restless ear now turns Where the lone ringdove Scidly sits and mourns ; Now, where the squirrel, brisk with chattering glee, Drops his peeled rind from out the walnut tree ; The listless Indiar.,|who§e quick?eve is cast To seek th© hawk whose shadow glances past; — These were the visions fair that graced the scene — Nature's own wild, untrodden, stainless green. And^yet the traveler's curious eye might trace Mysterious tokens of a vanished race : — Long rowa of garden beds, in order due. Where once; what unknown plants, luxuriant grew t 'What various flowers repaid the florist's care. Spread their gay blooms, and scented all the air ! Now the old oak upon these beds appears Intruder still, though half a thousand years O sole possession, ratify his claim Against the fruits and flowers without a name. There, too, the mound its cone-lika form displays, Enduring monument ot other days ! See what is fame ! some brave old warrior here, Chief of his tribe, to fame and glory dear, In battle slain, afier an hundred foes Had felt the vengeance that a warrior owes-. Is tombed, with all that savage pomp could give Te bid the memory of the hero live; And, lest the warrior in the shadowy land Might need £ome weapon for his shadowy hand. His well-strung bow is placed beside him Iktp, His coj.'per hatchet, and his a^hen spear; And meet provision for the ethereal plains. Venison and corn an earthern jar contsins : — This heaped up mound of earth remains the >j;uiie, But of the warrior, neither race nor name ! il-are, by this lonely mound in forest deil Might pensive melancholy love to dwei!. And xnube on all the vanity of things ; — The fame of warriors, and tiie prido of k'n)<^s I Yhi even here, o'er these deserted phiius. 29 Wlioro nature slumbers, and where sileirre reigns : Whore the drear past has rolled its fruitless years. And pcarco a record of their flight appears, A change is comiiirr, and the sign is nigh. Filled with stransregwonders to prophetic eye ; For lo 1 slow moving through the oaken glade, Now gleaming in the sun, now daricouing iu the shade, A canvass-covered wagon looms in view ; The deer espies it, and the/ed man too ; A few light|bounds the wild dee? Ogives, and then Stops, looks, and snorting bounds away again : The Indian, to his native caution true, An intervening tree conceals from view : Whence, peering out liii, keen obse vHnteye Watches the lumbering vehicle draw nigh^ O, artful Indian ! and O, bounding deer I Well may ye note that white.topped wain draw near ; For wheresoe'er that vision has been seen Your race h»\s vanished from the woodland gre«n I But slowly on, the laboring wagon rolls. Through open glades, and o'er surrounding knolls. To where a brook winds merrily along, Gladding its journey with its own low song. Now on the bank of the meandering rill This strango,'intruding vehicle, stand-s still ; And he to whom its long-arched roof gives birth Has nowhere else his prototype on earth. His speech is that of England, but yet free From English brogue, no foreign'brogue has ha . A certain something in his careless air Proves not her culture if her blood is there : In his queer lexicon of words, are some Derived from Keniuck or from Hoosierdom ; His strong right hand the ready rifle grasps. His axe, the left, with equal vigor clasps ; With equal nerve, prepared the foe to meet, Or lay the forest prostrate at his ieet. His head erect, his bearing proud^and free, Might fit Castilian knight of high degr^^e . Yei more unlike in heart and thought and deed — Than Sancho's master and his sorry steed : He spurns all tinsel and all false pretanse, His guiding genius, sterling common sense- Deep in his breast the fires of freedom dn-ell 30 As ia the children of the land of Tell ; Lightly he'd reek in war's red front to stand, Battling for freedom and his native land, Wher'er their wings Columbia's eagles spread. His country's ensign waving o'er his head ; But not, poor Switzer, not like thine, his sword Is the drawn, hireling of a foreign lord. A little boastful, yet 'tis oft'ner shown To prove his country's prowess, than' his own ; *Tis whatwjfl are he boasts, not what / am ; His faith, and hope, and pride, is Uncle Sam : Of his own country's universal heart His quicker throbs, tofeel itself a part ; He deems no special guerdon due, because He loves his country, and obeys her la'vs ; Saving alone, ;the right to meet her foes, Or make " the dessert blossom as the rose." Ye'helpless, heartless, mercenary band. Like Egypt's frogs, that fill, and curse the land ; Whose noisy croakings indicate your zeal For your own private, not the public weal ; Though skilless all to guide your own affairs, Yet of the public, claim to manage theirs ; To all above, with servile fl ittery bow, Yet proud and arrogant to all below ; Ye slimy crawlers for the public pelf. Whose creed is party, and whose party self : Go. note the hardy pioneer, whose hand Widens the borders of his native land ; — GrO, note him well, and learn, if learn ye caa, What 'tis to be a patriot, and a man I And there if'one whose true and trusting heart Braves with him all, and bears in all, a part ; Where'er he wanders, or what ills betide, She shares his fortunes, ever at his side'i On the broad prairie, or in forest gloom, His humble cabin is her happy home, from her loved friends and kindred far away The faithful-hearted 'labors, day by day. Courageous Spirit I w:io could bear like thea Thy lonely life, thy toil and poverty ! With wifely cares the weary hours beguila, And make even barron desolation smile I 31 When the lone traveler on Illina's plain*, Or where Iowa spreads her^ broad domaipi. Benighted, weary, dubious of his way, That endless seemed, and trackless, e'^en by day ,- Nought but the prairie wilderness around, No cheerful tree, and no familiar sound; Nought but the curlew's wild and wailing cry. Or the marsh bittern's dismal melody; Or, as thick darknass settles on the plain, The wolf's long howl js answered back again ;• Of the lone cabin, like a setting star. Descries the light, dull glimmeiing from afar. Plow, with a lightened heart, and quickened pace, He hastens toward that welcome resting-place ; For well he knows that woman's hand is there To lay the couch and spread the humble fare ; And, though without, all cheerless seems, and meaa. Order, and joy, and comfort reigu within. Such are the homes, the nurseries of a race That stand unrivalled on the earth's broad face ; Such were the homes that lined ihy sounding shore, O, bleak New England ! in the days of yore. Such homes, such mothers nurtured those strong arm* And stronger hearts that, when wild war's alarmi Had paled the cheek, and quailed the heart of all The sons of fear whom tyrants can enthral. At the armed despot stern defiance hurled. And Freedom's flag, on the free air unfurled ! Such were the mothers, and such homes were they,--- The natal homes of "Webster and of Clay, Why have these names, and many scarce less gre«t, Sprung from so low a source, so rude a state ? Ye tilled lordlings ! it were well to know Fair Freedom's children maybe poor, not low : Her poorest son may fix on fame's bright star ; -- No laws oppress him, and no titles bar : And the clear voice that in rude cabin rings, May charm grave senates, and may humble kingi : Up toward the good, the great, the right, the high. The way is clear for all, as toward the sky ; Which only wrong, law's stern restraints may know As earth's foundations bar the depths below. ' Tis this, my country ! makes thy glorious nam» A v/atchword to the nations ; -- a bright tlame 32 With living fir© to wither and consume OM giant tyrannies ; and to illume, O'er all the earth, with Liberty's clear light, Oppression's gloomy realms, her long and dreary night 'Tis this that leads the exile to thy shore, rieasod to remain, an exile now no more ; Or in far nations shields him ; — and how well. Kozsta can answer — or let Austria tell. 'Tis this that gives to berve the countless sons A slave tar batter than all human ones — Bright-eyed and many-handed, that ere long- Shall purge that foul hereditary wrong Wherewith thy young limbs fester ; for in rain The galling fetter and the clanking chain, To serve our needs or feed our luxury. Facile Invention ! shall compete with thee, 'Tis this that moulds, with utmost skill, the form Of the winged ships to brave the ocean-storm ; With least resistance pan the yielding tide. And dash the billows from her shapely side : With nicest art that forms the spreading sail To catch the utmost of (he favoring gale ; Until the boasted mistress of the sea Reluctant yields, and leaves the palm with thee. 'Tis that sends careering fast and far. In thousand mazy lines, the rapid car ; That, fire-impelled, its flaming course is driven. Like the red meteoe o'er the face of heaven I 'Tis this that o'er earth's cold and torpid breast. That since creation lay in lifeless rest. Spreads finest nerves, that permeate the whole, And with electric fir© makes it a living soul. Lands far removed, by mountain, lake, and sea, Are joined in bonds of mutual sympathy ; The quivering neroes the distant impulse feel, And swift as light the far off thought reveal. 'Tis this that scatters with unfettered hand, In countless thousands, wide throughout the land, With all their power to instruct, to improve, to bless. The unnumbered offspring of liberal press : Those airy tpirits that, on untiring wing, To every hearth their various tidings briig ; Each outrage new of hoary wrong proclaim, Each noble action consecrato to fame ; 33 With prompt alarm warn of each thrAatened rightc And drag corruption's darkest deeda to light. O, Holy Freedom I these are but the sign And visible out-croppings of the mine Of countless wealth that lies concealed in thee : — Wherever settler fells the forest tree, Turns the fresh soil and builds his little home» Thou, guardian spirit I with him there dost com© ; 'Twas thou that lod'st hitn to the forest wild, Cheer'd all his toils, and on his labors smiled. Wherever Learning's first rude temples stand. There they were planted by ihy careful hand ; And p11 above, of v/hatsoe'er degree. From thee are sprung and dedicate to thee. Where'er Religion lifts her heavenward spire Her lights were dim without thy holy fire ; And scarce a hamlet where thy foot has trod But ha>! its temj)lc pointing up to God. Virtue and Truth from old oppression i3,ee. And find congenial home alone with thee ; And maiden purity and manly pride Dwell where thou uvvell'st, and flourish by thy lide, O, can it be ! and shall thy sons confess. Natured by thee, they learned to love the© less ; And for a pottage but less vile than they, Cast half thy glorious heritage awav I Say, shall thy beams that light our northern sky Grow sickly pale, and fitful flickering, die, Quenched by tha baleful breath of slavery ? No, Freedom, no I the hideous monster's power Is rushing headlong to its fated hour : I see thy sons in countless numbers rise, And on the wind 1 hear their vengeful cries ; • Back, demon ! back I back to thy noisome den-i The soil of Freedom rears, not slaves — but men ? * Humbled, abased, I see the fiend retire, Appalled with fear before thy children's ire I And thou, O, Kala ! happy thrice art thou That Freedom's gems adorn thy shining brow ; And happv, too, not thus alone to stand ; But many a sister fair, throughout the land, Like thee adorned, lifts her proud head on hifk, iu youthful grace and glorious roajeity ; 34 Sprung from one scurce, to the same rrcal ye tend, One common pnrcni and o -e common end : A Sister band, by Freedom linked in iove,l Throngh the long conr^c of future years ye move ; — Piophetic eye, through the dim misls nfar, Msy note eacli brilliant, although differing star : In varied ronptelia ions see ihem shine With Pght : rd harmony almost divine ; 'Till, gnziiw^ loti J, on the fair scene injent, Dazzled and blinded turns fiom Freedom's firmamoiit. So brief, so bright thy past : thy coming year* So frau2ht w-iih hopes so all nndimmedwith fears ; And on thy natal day, wiir. garlands crowned, Thy own glad presence scailerclh joy around : Yet in thy joy a padncs shades thy biow For many a noble boa it ail r'ul.'t!es«« now That were of ihee. the glory ; many an eve Whose kindling glance beamed on thy infancy Is closed fore >'er ; many a voice s stilled Whose tones i.f l-^ve thiougli all thy being thrilled : And ihese areg.itie, O. Kala, bke a dream Whose eni]'ty visions :irc not what they seem : And incur turn, ore long, we too, shall pass. Like inane shadows in the silvered glass. And who have made and make thee what thou art» As fate decrees, f-hall one bv one dc-part ; ; But ibon will siiil leuKiin ; for ihee appears A long-diav/n vista of un- numbered years : I See thee far adown ilie centuries. The lijjht and jo\ of myriad loving eyes; Kala. the beauiirul ! thy Indian Uiimo And the Gr;ek liquid epithet the same ; Kahi, c kfda ; be thou ever so While ill thy gentle streatn its si! veiy waters flow. fi'ArHy ISiitlieineiit of Ktilimi^soO. The first s-^itler who pitched his tent on the present site of Xalamazoo or Branson, as it was originaily calbd, seems to hare beea Titus Bronson ; whose ch iracter is described by- Col. Carte lius in 'lis aidress ioim i in this volume. 'I'his was in the sutnn jr of 1821), darinof which, and the following sea- son, several fri'nihes setilod in the vicinity. But s) slow had been the progress of emigration, or so fiuctiiatiirr had been its character, that in the spring of 1833, only three! |;»g houses, four framed ones and two shanties or *'cktentes," eonp')sed the village of Bronson. During that lummer, h >weve)-. three or four more houses were erected, and as a L^and oiFice was establishetl in lh;U year, settlers and speculators began to make their a;jpearance. In Oct. 1835, a newsp:ipcr was established under the nime of- The Michi- gan SiaiesiTian." published by H. Gilbert, Esq. From an April number of 1833. we mike the following extracts: "By a recent act of the L-^gislature, the name of our vil- lage h-is been ch;ingod Irorn Bi'onson to Kalamazoo. This is asitsliojid be, our County, township and villige have now the sa>ue naaie. Kalamazoo was ihe name given our noble river, aa I a b^.aitiful piairie vvliich it laves, by the ab )r»gin«i of the cou;iiry. Less than two short years sinre our village contained but one or two framed houses, and as many !oj cabins, to wiiicdi the rude wigwams of the In liai^. had then but jusL g.VL;;! place. We hive n )W ab->!Jt six'y tVame 1 dweK. ling houses, nriiiy of them large and well liuivh-jj, and ten-, anted wiih a population of many hundreds." I5ut in all ear^- ly histories, ti'stunony is found to be co'iiflictiug. JFrom a letter received from an early resident, we are permitted to. m-ake the f>llowiug extracts. " I arr,ved in Kalauiazoo on the ah of April ISS'o. and resided, there until iSIX At the lime of my coiniuf;, KalamaEoo \,ad been just incorporated by the Territorial Council, as K:alanazoo ; the origma' namt,. Bronsou. having been abrogat^jd. Tlie inhabitants «)n the vil- lage plat could nDt have exceeded fiftv in number, and 36 tvery house seemed to be in the woods. The U. S. Land office being located there, a number of land dealers were aU ^ays fluctuating about the place, which might have induced the casual observer to rate the population at a higher figure. But counting only those attached by home interests, to the spot, I think my estimate correct." Not only was the village of Kalamazoo called Bronson, but the township was called Arcadia, from a beautiful clear stream, which runs through the northern part of the village. In the early settlement of the town and village, bears and panthers were very common, but wolves were much more numerous and destructive. — They were a constant annoyance to the inhabitants, so that ihose who had cattle or sheep, were obliged to confine them in pens, close to their dwellings; and even then they were not always safe. Among the early records of Arcadia, we find the following notices : — " At a towm meeting of the electors of the town of Arcadia, held on the first iMonday in Aprd in ] 834, it was voted to raise one hundred dollars for the destruction of wolves ; and that four dollars be paid for every scalp taken in said town, untd the hundred dollars be expended; and after that time no person shall receive any compensation for wolf scalps, the remainder of the year." " Voted that th© first certificate presented to the Supervisors shall draw the first money, and so on, until all the 8100 shall be expended." Like notices are found in 1635 and 1836. At a similar meeting " on Monday, Aprd 1838, it was voted to rai^^e 8100, for the support of the township poor; and $100 lor bounty on wolf scalps at 84,00 each." In 1836 a loan was authorized for the purpose of erecting a Court House and Jail, which were completed durnig the year 1837 or 1838. The earliest settlements, in Kalamazoo County, were made upon "Praiiie Ronde," which has been imperfectly described bv Cooper, in his *- Oak Openings." \n Nov. 1828 Bazel Harrison, afterwards a Judge of the County Court. Henry Whipple, and Abram Davidson, arrived at the Prairie with t?»eir families and teams. The first furrow was plowed by Erastus Gudford, who arrived soon after the persons before named. During the next year a grist mill was put into opera* lion l)y John Vickers, which proved a great convenience ta (he inbabilanlfi, as ihey were before obliged to travel seventy 37 miles over bad roads, to get their grain ground at the nearest mill. Mr. Vickers' mill, situated near the West side of Prairi« Ronde, would now be consideied a curiosity, as " it was built of logs, and had a pair of mill stones 14 inches in diameter, which ran up edgewise." "It was built for the purpose of cracking corn, in preference of breaking with a mortar," The first deed upon record in Kalamazoo Co., Territory of Michigan, was given by William Harris to Hiram Moor and Erastus ct. Jackson; by which the VV. 1-2, of S. W, 1-4, of Section 17, In Township 2, South Range, 10 West, was sold for the sum of 8300. This deed is dated the 8th July 1831. The first mortgage recorded was dated May 16th, 1831 tnd was between John Knight and James Knight of the 1st party, and Henry Stevens of the second party. " At a session of the County Court, of Kalamazoo County, held Oct. 17th, 1831, Cyrus Lovell, Esq., presented to the Court, a petition from the proprietors of the village of Bronson, and its citizens, requesting an alteration in part of the plat of said village. — The Court then adjourned to meet io-morry morning at 8 o'clock." (Siorned,) BAZEL HARRISON, ) Justices op STEPHEN HOYT, \ County Court. "At a session' of the same Court held May 22d, 1834, the petition of Nathan Harrison was presented, for license to keep a ferry across the Kalamazoo River, opposite the village of Bronson. On reading and filing the petition in this matter, it is ordered by the Court, that the said petitioner be author- ized and licensed to keep a ferry across the said river, at the place aforesaid, for the term of one year from this date ; on his entcrmg into a recognisance pursuant to the Statue, with one surety. And it is further ordered that the said Harrison do pay a Territorial tax of three dollars." In the *' Michigan Statesman " of May 5th, 1838, is found a notice that " the village of Kalamaxoo has just been incor- porated." TSie Indians. The " Bar Oak Plain," upon which Kalamazoo is built, atid the neighboring prairie known by ihe name of '• Prairio Ronde," were favorite resorts of the Indians of the Potta- wattamie and Ottawa Tribes, at the time of the settlement by the whiles. Like all the other American inbes, they led a vVandcring life, remaining by the river for months, and then suddenly packing up ihcir tew conveniences for living, and deparling, as it seemed, to their white neiLdibors, without any other o'jject than that of change. Portions of our b(?autiful Tillage are yet pointed out to the curious inquirer, vvliich were used as gardens by the Indians. Here tho vvomon cultivated the corn, with no implement of husbandry but a hoe. The present strength and fertility of these grounds, show how ju- diciously they made their selections. The corn was planted in hiljs, raised one or two feet above the surface, and at th« proper season, was harvested and buried in deep holes lined with bark. Corn so secured, often remained for months un- molested, either by man, or the more insidious ravages of rats and squirrels. After the corn was secured, the Indians gen- erally prepared for their winter hunting quarters. They then removed to the dense forest, where deer and other game were more abundant, and where no rivals could be found in their hunting grounds. They had no domestic animals, ex- cept horses nnd dogs, and the cow was an object of so much curiosity, that they often came a long distance to look at one. Butler and milk they could not be prevailed upon to use.— Their houses were formed of mats, woven by the women, from flaL^s, and supported by poles. These mats and polei were transported from place to place, and it was a labor of only a few hours, to erect a whole village of these temporary ■nd yet durable habitations. The tire was built in the centre of the dwelling, and the smoke after freely circulating through the apartment, found its way out as best it might. A few kettles, a few skins, and a few baskets for carrying burdensj composed the household conveniences of the child 39 of the forest. His food was as simple as his habits of life.-- Corn was the onlv article of cultivation, and this was cooked in onlv two wavs. The first manner of preparation was to boil the corn with ashes and water, until the husks separated ; then it was taken in baskets to a stream ot running water, where it was shaken about and thoroughly cleansed. Anoth- er manner of its preparation was this: — The corn was pounded in logs, bv the tomahawk, till it was well broken, and then boiled. This, with the venison and other game, formed the bill of fare of the simple Indian, and was without (.oubt, one cause of the few diseases by which he was annoyed.— His system of cure was contained in a few roots, and lae tree use of cold water. , Still, the Indians l.ad their doctors, who were esteemed and venerated, and after death were honored by a distinguished burial. The funeral crremonies of the Indians were conduct- ed without priest, or form nf service, but the howling and mourning of relatives, evinced tl:c same ardent ^^^"^'^^f kin- dred and' frienfl. as is fciund in more civilized Ide. Most of the dead were buried in shallow graves, dug by the bee, but persons who were distinguished either by their talents, their virtues, or their vices, wen^ honored by remaining above ground, and having a house built over them. Thus on one occas-ion a murder had l>een commiltcd, and not only the murdered man was thus distinguished, but also the assassin. Whenever a murder was detected, a council was held, and he who was nearest of kin to the murdered man, was ap- pointed the executioner of the criminal. Their canoes were i^adt? of birch bark, and were much emploved at certain seasons of the year in lit^hing. They were alsc so light as to be easily tvanspv -v. it liiai lime! Let us con » y " oi' 1835, with the populous aad bus7 '4\/i'.K'?t^v 1 we now inhabit. To ow this 44 wonderful transformation seems like the creation of some fair and fabulous dream. VThen the soul, unfettered by its bond ol clay, triumphs in its mastery, and rejoices in the realization of hopes more gorgeous and dazzling than were ever unveiled to its Vision in the broad and sultry day. Many of the pioneers of 1835, and of an earlier date, are yet vigorous and active in our midst ; and many more have laid by their pilgrim staffs, and well worn sandals, and gone down into the "dark valley of the shadow of death." — Among these, I recall to memory one, noble and commanding in statue, whose snow-white hair, frosted by five and seventy winters, fell over a brow on which God had fixed his seal of adoption, " to give the world assurance of a man." — He was the venerable prototype and sire of sons who have not dis- graced their parentage; but who have iivsd on, in respecta- bility and usefulfiess, a credit and honor to those who now "sweetly sleep in Jesus," and an ornament to the community in which they dwell. It is but simple justice to pass the same meed of praise upon the surviving family of Gen'l. Burdick, one of the earliest proprietors of Kalamazoo, and who ever cherished a warm and lively interest in its prosperity and pro- gress. To him we are mainly indebted for the preservation of our be&utiful Bur-Oaks: and I take both pride and plea- sure in bearing this public testimony to the refined taste and noble forethought ®f those who, like him, were thus mindful of the comfort of those who should come after them ; and who have guarded with so constant a care, one of the chief characteristics and beauties of this far-famed settlement. — It is one of the best evidences of an enlarged and cultivated mind, and of a heart moved by the choicest impulses of our better nature. We should regard the elegant shade-trees about our residences, and streets, with the same delight and solicitude that a tender mother watches over the fair beings to whom she hath given birth, — who look up to her for nurture ard protect on Ircm rude storms and adversities of life, — un- til, n atured in strength and beauty, they group themselves, lovirgly Jo tehelfer the heme of her declining vears, and*hal- low the spot vvhere lier dear form reposes. — I repeat, it was a ccmm.endable trait of character ; and one that the busy multitude who now walk to and fro beneath their cool and ample shade, in the hot and sultry summer, should remember with feelings ot sjncere admiraticn and gratitude, — With«.'Ut 'tioubt, our native Oaks arc one of the most desirable attrac- tians and excellencies of Kalamazoo — for vvhicli we are justly famed and complimented at home and abroad. Let ui cherisli ihem with unabated care. The)' arc nature'* ' choic« legion/ to shield us from disease and death ; and are robed in a drapery of green and gold more gorgeous and beautiful than erer decked the conquering hosts of Napoleon. The}/ shall live, when u-e ar« dust ; and their shadows will linger peacefully and silently upon our graves, long after the places that now know us, and the friends who now love us, know us no more forever 1 I never visit our beautiful Mountain Home of the Dead, so calmly overlooking the strife and tumult of th« living, without being charmed by the extended and ench»Mting view spread out like a map of Eden before me ; and as I retrace my steps, and see the funeral train wending its way slowly along tiie winding walks and lovely groves, the words of El- ric, the Saxon, came to me with peculiar emphasis and meaning: Here, sorrowing friends, beneath this antique shade, Where earliest incense of the virgin morn Ascends the smihng heav'ns — here let us pause Great nature hath a balm for ev'ry wound : Our bicedinor hearts, pierc'd to the core by grief. May rnediciuo their torn and trembling strings On the dear boaom of her boundless love. Associated with Gen'i Burdick in the proprietorship of Kalamazoo, were the late Thomas C. Sheldon and Lucius Lvo.'t ; the former, Receiver of Public Moneys here duiing the Land Office times of 1835, 1S36 and 1837, (in connection with Major Edwards, the Jiejlsirar.) and the latter, one of the Hrst ^Senators who represented Michigan in the INational Legislature, and who also subsequently held the re?p3n.sibe nfhce oflSurveyor General But whatever honor may br ac- corded to tlie-e gentlemen, '* Uncle Titus " Bronson and his good wifti '* AuiJiT Sally " Bronson, were undoubtedly the original locau>rs and proprietors of this famous foresi city, ;i[id, hard in tt.eir wake, came Nat Harrison and Ci i.o ,'ell ; the first ydeped -'Uncle," and tlie last, '' Squire." — I beliere Mr. Harrison is nuw dead; but ilio Hon. Mr. Lovell is still living, at Ionia, in this State, clever and large and lively as ' tver, a good ci'Jzcn and genl'eman of note — not nolts I He's 46 a ' hard money man,' and * plumb on the square ! * — Speaker of tlie House, at the late session of our State Legislature. — May he live long and his shadow never be less. Tiie Ladies of the Library Association may remember that I had the honor of toasting him, at their late " Quarter Century Celebration," nnd that he " turned up hrown /" His responss, like Ex-Governor Ransom's, was replete with incidents and ac- cidents of pioneer life — particularly his narration of the wagon trip of the Governor and family, from Detroit to Kala- mazoo. On reflection, I am not positive whether it was Mr. Lovell or the Governer himself who told the story : but I re- member that there was a ' trip of the tongue,' at the time, that set a number of us near the speaker, into a hearty laugh. The late Col. Huston and Amos Brownson, were also inti - mately connected with the early history and settlement, and after prosperity of this place. I remember them as early ai 1835 and 1336, as the principal "Business Firms." Mr, and Mrs. Brownson (the latter, then Miss Case.) were among th« first acquaintances I made, out of Major Edwards' immediate family ; and some of my happiest moments (always saving and excepting my courting ones ! ) have been passed in their com- pany. It requires an eifort, at this late day, to recall the names of all our early settlers of 1835 and 1836 : but as I desire, so far as in my power, to place them on record, I subjoin the follow- ing alphabetical Hst, \n. this list are included a number of transient persons who came and left in 1835 and 1836: for we had but a few resident families here in 1835. To avoid personality and partiality, 1 begin v^'ith myself, — the poetical, prosy, perennial, and pungent. Major Red Pepper! — then follows of course, under A., my Father and Mother, Brothers and Sisters, Uncles and Aunts, Nephews and Nieces, Cousin* and dozens, from the first to the last generation. — Amen inclu- sive ! — then : Doctor Abbott, and wife and daughter, Ben Jones and family Moses Austin and family, David G. Kendall Ross AUard Israel Kellogg, of the Kalamazoo Ho-m* Hiram Arnold and family Levi Krause Gen'l Burdick " •' Amos Knerr Deacon Barrows " '* Ilusso Kiog Squire Belcher " •* Mr. Liephart, the old ' Indian Trader.* Ira Burdick " " Horatio Lawrance Ij^q^qCk j ^itr Frederick Booher '• " Richard Lawrance 5 ' * • Doctor Barritt '* '* Edmund LaGrave Warr«n Burrill *' " Hiram D. Lov«land 47- Amos Brownson and wif« Henry Booher •* " William G. Butler, ' early settler ' William Boolier Samuel W. iJryan Ira Bird William Birch Alexander Buell and brother Austin Uncle Titus" and •' Aunt Sally,' Cyrus Lovell and famiJy Daniel Lathrop and wife Joseph Miiler jr. Clement March Robert Mcintosh, Merchant; Dop'ty P. M. under Doct. Abbott ! Ac. O C. McCracken Jay R. Monro*^ & Iloiatie N, Monroe L. H. Moore, alias " LittU Moort; " the original proprietor* of Bronson, hereto- •" contradiitiDction of fore mentioned, Henry Mower, Chauncey Burrell Big Land Looker, Hunter, «to. Doctor Beardsley Gen'l Isaac Moffatt Philander Bishop Mr. Meaohnm, Tailor, Col. John E. Bracket! worked for L. R. Davis E. R Ball birneon jVewman N. a". Balch Lot M. North, Doctor Browninff, Constable, aruJ Chief Baker nf th. Staff ^c Druggist ; " Richard the 3rd ! " &c., J^'^^^"" Northrop and family O. S. Case ^^Pt- Geurp;e A. O'Brien and family "Typo ;" now of the S'^afeJoMrTza?, Lansing, Richard O'Brien and wife Horace H. Comstock and family Hiram Owen who, although hailing from " Comstock Moses O'Brien ^uarierT^"^^ *'"' "" business place and bead Zephamiah Piatt and family MoirCooper, nephew of the Novelist SnrvPvnfp'M^-K"''' ^'^^ r a a i. ^ ^ ourveyor rettibone, now of Ann Areor Anthony Cooley and family William Carley " " James Coleman " " Lewis A. Crane " '* Roswell Crane " '* Geo. Thos. Clark and wife, her Parents and their family, A. & D. Cahill Alexander Cameron Almirin Lake Cotton, He and Wm. Gr. Butler, were the flrpt of t^.0J](JJJ-^„JJJ -r ,„„ oarly settlers, „ Walter Clark ^ Ami Carpenter and wife Lewis R. Davis " Bank " Porter and family, now of Det Johnson Patrick and familv Mrs Poller, (widow of Do'ct. Porter and her sons, Ked and Jim John Parker A. T. Preuty and family Peacon Porter and wife' Uncle James Parker and family Judge Ransom and family, his Parents and Brothers honorable arrd now Henry M Rice ) --—v--" "»*'"«« <>«>« R. J. Rosecrantz hirothers ^ Both in honorab r official positions, r married, and hailin ) Minnesota, David S. Dille and family Artemas W. Richardsoa Joseph B. Daniels, and his brother, T J.'^alter Russell Oliver Davenport and Wife Heniy Reynolds and family William G. Dewing, and brother Fred, ^'fl Recollet (" Reckly ") Ebenezer Durkee and familv Frendi Trader Major Abraham Edwards and family "°»: C^^^" ^- ^^"^^^ ^°^ ^'^« Renselaer Evils and family Wilimm Stuart Asa Fitch and family Jt"'",'"'' ^^^ ^i'®''^?'' George A. Filch, ^ heodore P. bheldon and family now Ed. a*nd Pii^'isher of Mich. TeUffraph I^octor Slarkw^ealher •• Francis Fitts and wife Nathaniel Foster and family, now of Otsego, Allegan Co., Mich. Daniel Fisher Ethan French Henry Gilbert and family Nelson Gibbs " •• Andrew B. Gray •* '• Silas Grejj •• »• Erastus Smith Rodney Seymour '* •• Nathan L. 'Stout •* " Caleb Sherman, now doing busincM for " Unci* Bam,' New Jleiico David Sergeant Albert Saxon, the man who went m/ltr mn»th$r man, •rp«r cmme back / 48 All«n Goodridgc and family. Silas Trowbridre now DeiVty Cora'r State Land Offlee L^j^.e^ H. Trask and famiir JohnB.GaUean Lyman Tutile dodnev Gibson, t •' ^p i „ n,.w Dep'ty 3ec'ty of State, Lane-.nj, ^f.^^^^ T^X '^'^ , Dwiffht C. Grimes f^'^am Underwood, James Green, , " ^^^f.*^^^' ^'''^'\ of fal^mazoo." now of the firm of Stuart & Green, Jf ^^<; ^iCKery and Wife John H. liavs and family Stephen Vickery and wife Benjamin Harrison and familv Lawrence \ anDeVValker, Deacon Hvdenburk " "' p"l';^' ^/ «• Receiver of Public Mon.y. a ■ FT '. . , ,, ,. rhdo Vradenbursfh Squire Hubrjard " " ait j a \kt-u- Nat Harrison " " Alfred A. Wdhams T?i:oko TT^'n 4» .i Isaac W. Willard ,1 rr 1 J r -1 ^ t' 7 rj- Jndffe D. li. vVebster and famuT L Hawlev and familv. of Artt. iioii5«, -iir-,? tt -t*/ i i ., .» ' Ccl. H. B'. Huston and family n W^"" A. G. Hammond aad wife ' Vi c.^"\ w jj u. 1 u xj ( > • ,,T J Mrs. Sarah Weaver and daughter Joseph HutcauiK, vvite and son ^ -ttt t.t- , *» Sheriff of Kal. Co , Merch.int &c. 9'^,'''^L^'\ ^uislow Azro Healy J«hn VVmslow Volnev Hascall. Rollin Wood, Justice of the Peace &c, now Editor and Publisher of £aZ. Gczef/ff, William E. White Nath'l Holman and wife, moth'r, broth'rJasper Wood Chas. Herrington, William Wingert, Gunsmith, then at work fur Buell & Brother now of Detroit. Isaac N. Janes; Rev Cj-lus Woodbury and family. Parson W. was the first settled Presbyterian Clergyman in Kalamazoo ; and the first " fin- nation party " I ever attended was at his house — in the winter, I think, of 1835. — And this brintjs ino to X, Y, Z. 1 do not pretend that liie foregoing list is perfect, for in the lapse of years, and drawn up, as it has been, from memory, it would be singular if it were; but 1 present it as a tolerably accurate register of those living, or hailin^r from here m 1835 and 1836, within what is now, the corporate limits of Kalamazoo > Wnat a change from those times to the present ! when the Main Street of our village, from the river up to the Tremont House, was almost free of dwellings ; and beyond that station, and around in all directions, the native bur-oaks bloomed in primeval beauty. Then it was a common sight to see bands of roving Indians, and to hear the howl of the wolf — then game was plenty, and the fleet deer bounded merrily over green pastures where- nozi* stand thickly together the pleasant habitations of the comfortable housekeeper, and the more pre- tentious mansions of the rich. Those were the good old "land-office times," when Speculators went about with "ple- thoric purses and empty stomachs, and paid two shilhngs for a "smell of something good to eat !" and for the privilege of leaning against a door post to sleep, or bunking on the old Kalamazoo House floor ! — The glorious days of paper cities, with " desirable water lots ! " — when " Port Sheldon " flour- khed, and the proprietors flourished over the port ! — when a 49 fraction entered for $50 at the Land Office, in the morning, told for 5,000 at night ! — When everybody was •* crazy for land," and felt rich, and wanted to be crazier and richer ! — When pork was 820 a barrel, and too poor at that to *• worry its way down !" — When pies and gingerbrea d were divided into " Qaai ter Sections," and sold for a " short shilling a bite ! *' When a man was afraid to be seen using a tooth-pick, after dinner, for fear of being mobbed and murdered for the des- sert ! — in short, when everything and everybody was turned *' topsy-turvy," and an overwhelming torrent of speculation deluged the laad. But over these " troubled elements," there has come a calm. A glittering bow of promise has long since spanned the dark and threatening clouds — revealing by its curve of glory, a " new heavens and a new earth." Old things are done away, and the bright sunlight of prosperity and happiness is now shining upon all. The effect of the la- bors of those who survived this perilous period, manifested itself m an mcreased regard for individual probity and useful- ness, and in sounder and maturer action for the public good. Inordinate selfishness and love of gain, were purified and con- trolled by the dictates of a better humanity — or, at all events, the more glaring inconsistency and development, were hid under a cloak that covered the " multitude of sins," The baser passians were curbed— held in subjection by the strong arm of the law, and that enlightened and efficient public sentiment, which sooner or later approves or condemns ihe conduct of all. Every added year has carried forward the good work of reform, and Kalamazoo, at this auspicious hour, may truly be said to be luxuriating in beauty and plenty, amid her native .vales, like some fair virgin decked with i?owers. And just here, I am reminded to add a word or two in memory of the beautiful and novel appearance of our Prairies, as they look- ed to me some twenty years or more ago. — I can never for- get the vivid impressionmade npon my mind (fresh as I then was from city scenes and life,) the first time 1 looked upon a prairie in full bloom — I had mounted my horse for an afternoon ride, and heading westward from our village, gave my favor- ite running nag Lightfoot free rein until I drew up suddenly on the brow of the hill near •* Uncle Parker's," on Grani> Prairie ; — for it seemed to me almost like sacrilege, to crush livith my horse's hoofs the lovely and delicate fairy children 7* 50 of the woods and fields, by which I was surrounded. Be- aeath, about, and beyond me, as far as the eye could reach, was spread out, in undulating elegance, an emerald carpet of [lature's choicest fabric, inlaid profusely with flowers of erery imaginable variety of name and tint — gorgeous and fascina- ting as the most brilliant hues of the rainbow. — Horse and rider were alike captivated : for my pet racer, with eye and aostnl wide open, literally rfran^ in, with me. the rich beauty and odor of that charming scene. — Never can 1 forget that day. There I sat, and gazed delightedly, wholly unconscious of the lapse of time, until the shadows of evening, gathering thickly over the landscape, admonished me of the " witching hour," on love's dial, when a fairer " native flower" than any I had then and there seen, would bloom for me alone I So, what time the moon. Her silver crescent iii the orient shone, Lightfool and 1, in happy mood, hie'd home I [An accomplished and genial clerical critic at my elbow » as 1 am concluding this add\iiona,[ prairie item suggests sky'd for " hied," in the above couplet! — The indulgent reader can therefore adopt my friend the Rev. E. B. Palmer's emenda- tion, or the original text, as saemeth best, "all things con- sidered ! "] A few words now, before bringing this hasty article to a close, in memory of the old U. S. Land Office, and of those with whom I was associated in 1835 and 1838. jMajor Abraham Edwards (then Rei/ister, and for several years subsequently,) kept the Office in a building immediately in the rear of O. Davenport's large frame house now standing, on the corner of Main and Edwards* streets. At that time, with the exception of the Land Oflice, it was all an open lot. It was there that 1 first commenced "scribbling" as a Clerk, soon after, the Major removed to the Office I now occupy, and in which I have the honor to " flourish " as Register. Here most of the Government lands, now constituting the Home- steads and improved farms of the country, were sold at t^n shillings an acre ^ including the location of the *' site " of the present "City of Kalamazoo." The curious observer of the antique, may at this day see specimens of the pencilings of the *' original locators,'* all over the outside of the old Office, at well as cuttings by Yankee ** blades 1 " In fact, the old Major, at one time dunng a "great land rush," to save his picket SI fence and other property, from utter destruction, bought a load of shingles for the express use and benefit of the crowd, and had proclamation made, that every man might help him- self, gratis, and whittle away to his heart's content! After that, every other person you passed, betvfeen this and tb* Receiver's, on both sides of the road, at the taverns, on the cor- ners, and every where else, had a knife and shingle in hand, and Wc'is cutting away for dear life! Any ''knowing one" r.ould tell, by the way a man •* whittled," what progress he was making m a trade. The skirmishing and feeling-process, was a bold and rapid succession of cuts, outward, but ab the bargain progressed to a happy close, the knife blade was in- clined imvnrd, — the parings became nicer and closer, and the trade and shingle ended in the sharpest kind of a point, lo the buyer who was '• sold ! " The force in the Regisler's Office, in 1835 and 1836, con- sisted of Major Edwards and his sons, Alexander and "^CoL. Tom," Mr. John B. Guiteau, my brothers, S. Yorke and Richard, Mr. Alfred A. Williams, Ira Burdick, the ^' Squire," Captain George A. O'Brien, A. VV. Richardson. and myself besides the occasional help in the office, of Mr. Thos. C. Sheldon' ^the Receiver J. M; — Messrs, T. P. Sheldon, Geo. Thos. Clark, and Rodney Gibson. The rush of business was so great in those days, that extra clerks h&d often to be called in to register the Applications, Plats, 'Adc, and bring up our Returns for Washington : and mil- lions of dollars from this Office alone, poured into the Treas- ury of the United States. In those days of " wild-cat" and " red-dog" inflated paper tiurrency, everybody was a Croesus, at least in feeling. Sper- ulation and pecalaiion were the twin charlatans and rulers of the hour. Men of judgment and honesty, who had therefore kept unimpaired their integrity, joined in the general scramble after riches, and yielded, finally, to the fascinating rustle of bank-paper, and the righteous ring of the *' almighty dollar T' The " Specie Circular,'* killed the bastard progeny of irre- sponsible Bankers, while the ink upon their lying " piomises lo pay " was yet moist on the fair faces of their treacherous issue, and the sober second thought of the people, came at l list, hke rain upon the dry and barren earth, lo refreih the wa«te places, and make the desert and solitary wilderness bloom and blossom like the rose. 52 One of the principal means, from first to last, in the progress of refoi'm and of social and intellectual advancement, here and elsewhere, was unquestionably the introduction and faith- ful application of the Printing Press ; that grand and irre- sistable lever for raising the masses, and moving the very foundations of the mental and moral world. Mr. HEiHRY Gilbert, may with propriety be called, the founder and father of the public press of Western Michigan. No man connected with it, has seen harder service, met with a great- er variety of viscissitudes and experiences, had 'Mower downs," or " higher ups I " For some years past, he has been out, as an Editor and Printer, and is now -' set up in capitals" as one of our most obliging and popular " Merchant Princes." Messrs. Hascall and Fitch, from their respective tripods and platforms, now sit in Henry's scat, and di&pense the pure milk of letters and logic (adulterated, occasionally, with ii little water)) to their indulgent frienEAR Madam : — As you desired, I have thrown together,- in the following pajies, some remennbrances of the early set- tlement of Kalamazoo, and its vicinity. They are very crudely and imperfectly presented, and I fear will add but little to the interest of vour proposed work. It was on the 22d day of June, 1831, that our family first saw the spot marked out for their home in the wilds of Michi- gan. This was on ''Genesee Prairie," four miles south- west of Kalamazoo Village, whither my father, in company with Anthony Cooley and Erastuv Smith, had immigrated and located their claims the fall before — 1 ihink. in October, 1830. They gave the prairie the name it bears in honor of Genesee County, N. Y., from whence they had all removed. On our arrival, in June, we found besides those above named, three or four families, which had preceded us, and pitched their ** Squatter" tents on various parts of the Prairie. These were Enoch Harris, a colored man, and his family, a Mr. Wild and family, a Mr. Hunt and family, and a Mr. Stillwell and family ; the former two of winch still remain. The sur- rounding country was wild and undisturbed as it had existed, probably, for long centuries before. The numerous bands of Indians and their deeply trodden trails whicli traversed the prairies and forests, at this time, in all directions, abated noth« ing from tlie primeval freshness of the surrounding scenery. God and Nature re\gncd alone, and civilized man had not yet been permitted to mar the holy quiet and deep solemnity, whjch brooded over the beautiful lakes and valleys, the green prairies and deep forests, that lay so tranquilly around U3. It iia« seemed tome that there was a nearer communion with the Creative Spirit of the Universe in those early days, than ha« been experienced since the necessities or cupidity of man transformed the wilderness into the fruitful field. Among the first things that attracted attention about our homestead, was a large circle amid % grove of trees, vb«re 55 the earth was trodden down much like the trails which passed near it. This we learned was a spot upon which the Indians had been accustomed to celebrate their festivities ; and if re- port was true, sometimes to practice the war dances of their tribe. This, then, was the origin of the mysterious circle. — In another spot on my father's farm an artificial mound was discovered, about a rod in diameter at its bass, and some four or five feet high. Around this there was a regularly laid out garden, the beds still stanJmg as distinctly marked, and as regular in their order, and arraiigemant, apparently, as when they were first wrought out by the hands of the unknown workmen. And upon this mound, and in the midst of some of these beds, were growing large and aged trees, showing that the mysterious gardens must have had their origin in far back ages. Probably they were the work of the same people whose tumuli, and whose instruments of war and domestic use, are found scattered in various places lhroaghi)ut the entire west. Another object of interest engaged our attention almost the first day of our arrival. It was reported that upon Grand Prairie two miles north of us, there were inexhaustible fields of strawbernes, then in the very zenith of their glory. We went. The half was not told. Snm deserted corn fields, left by the Indians, a year or two before, had grown over with rank and luxuriant strawberry vines, which seemed to be indigenous to the soil. These at this time, were literally loaded with fruit, and the little hillocks where the corn had stood, for acres and acres, gleamed red in the sun, as though each might be a honafiii heap of the luscious berries, already plucked and placed there. A more interesting sight it is dif- ficult to conceive of; and the pioneers did uot fail to make themselves practically acquainted with these spontaneous gifts of the deserted corn fields. About this time some excitement occurred in consequence of a murder that had been committed upon an Indian by one of the tribe, over west of Grand Prairie. The criminal had been just tried and condemned, and permission granted hira to visit his friends and relatives for the last lime previous to his execution. No bail was required in Indian jurisprudence He had given his word to return on the appointed day, and that was deemed sufficient by the Chief. The questioe among the white settlers was—" Will the condemned raan 56 keep fjis word t " Varic^iis were the opinions ; and not » little cariosity was felt throughout the community as the stated time drew near. The day at length came ; and with it came the condemned criminal, punctual to the hour. The sentence 'of death was immediately carried into execution ; and his body was placed sitting upright, in the midst of a rude struc- ture of logs, where it remained, and was visited by the set- tlers of the surrounding country for many months afterward. His pipe and food were placud by his side, in order, as I sup- pose, to make his journey *'to the undiscovered country '' a? tolerable as possible. But no one could discover that he ever condescended to make use of them. Early m the spring of the next year, 1832, a new and more formidable cause of excitement occurred, which, for a time created a good deal of agitation and alarm among the settlers. !t was reported that Blxck Hawk, with a large body of his warriors, was m.irching directly for our settlements, and there was imminent danger that all the people would be massacred. At once a draft was made upon all the male inhabitants lia- ble to military service, and general muster was to take place upon Prairie Ronde, where means for resistance and protec- tion were to be devised, and as far as possible, carried out. Well do I remember with what feeling I saw my father de- part, and how painful was the suspense in the family, until he returned, which he did in two or three days, it havirg been ascertained that the repori was exaggerated and ihe danger, at least, at that particular time, was not threatening. The community became tranquilized, and during the summer the news was received that General Atkinson had had a de- cisive engagement with the Indian forces, and had disastrous- ly routed them, taking Black Hawk, his son, and many war- riors prisoners. This at once restored perfect quiet to our settlement ; and none were now afraid to traverse the coun- try again at will. The game of the country at this time, was exceedingly plentiful. Deer, bears and wolves, were seen in all direc- tions by the settlers, and many were killed, the two former furnishing a considerable portion of the food in some of the families. Wolves, especially, were everywhere, and their dismal howl was almost suie to be heard as soon as night set in. And they were possessed of a most audacious temerity ioo — I well remember upon a certain occasion when one *7 came at midday, into our door yard and seized a sheep befor^^ the face and eyes of several of the family, and would hare made short work with the timid animal, had not my father interfered to rescue it. And, again, one came just before night-fall, within two rods of the door, and laid hold of a small pig, the cries of which soon brought its long-legged, lantern-jawed, ferocious maternal ancestor to the rescue, when his lupine majesty saw fit to beat a hasty retreat, with the injured mother at his heels ; and such a race we venture to say, was never seen on Genesee Prairie before or since, — A small dog, we had, would sometimes venture, in the nighh to crawl out through a hole in the wall of the log house, left for his exit and entrance, and bark, when he scented the near approach of a wolf; and not unfrequently was he driven hurriedly in, by the swift approach of the wild beast to attack him ; when the mutual growling was anything but pleasant music to the ears of the family. It seems to me but yesterday, (although it is twenty-four years since,) that I first visited the '* county seat," as the little village was then usually called by the settlers m the surround- ing country. I was a mere boy then, and with a boy's curi- osity, noted the various things of interest in the infant town. At the foot of Main Street, on the bank of the river, at this time, was a cabin, occupied by Nathan Harrison, who had estabhshed a ferry there, consisting of a canoe or two, and a large skiflf, with which to accommodate the immigrants and settlers who desired to cross the river. " Uncle Nate" was known the country through, for he was a great hunter, and foremost at all shooting matches, and hunting parties. He was, however, one of those wandering pioneer spirits that could not long brook the advances of civilization ; and he soon sought a new home, where the sound of the axe and the hammer had not yet disturbed the peaceful repose of nature. The day I visited the ferry the west shore of the river for some distance up and down, was lined with the beautiful birchen canoes of a company of Indians, wh» had come, bringing maple sugar, venison and peltries to trade with the whites, they generally desiring in exchange, whiskey, flour, or some gaudy articles of dress. For many years after, this was a favorite resort of the natives for purposes of barter; but alas ! the face of the red man is now rarely seen here, and sooti will be ««en no more forever. About a mile below this 8* 58 place, on the east bank of the river^ was an old French tm-* ding post, kept by a half breed by the name of Liephart, where the earlier settlers found very scant supplies of dry goods an'i groceries ; but scant and dear as they ^\ere, they suppliefl a want which would otherwise have been severely felt by ihc pioneers. But at the period of which I am now speaking, there appeared an individual among the little band of villagers, who was destined not only to eclipse the French trading post in the way of supjiljing the necessities of the settlers, but whose subsequent career was to have an impor- tant bearing upon the growth and prosperity of the place. He was a tall, spare, rather eccentric Yankee, with a some- what military air, and a very ?3072cAa/awr carriage and mode of speech. Without further circumlocution, it was Col. HosEA B. Huston, who came at that early day with a stock of merchandize adapted to the wants ot the settlenent, and put up a hastily constructed store, on the coiner of Main and Rose Streets, being the front part of the building which yet remains there. At the time of my first visit " to town," above alluded to, this little mart of the Col. was just opened, gnd my boyish curiosity was highly gratified with the hour or two's experience 1 then had there. It was the place of resort for the townsmen, who were fond of meeting there, and "talking over matters." Here it was that I first saw Titus Bronson — the strange, lank, half crazy, eccentric founder of the village, known the country over by his then usual cognomen — " Po« tato Bronson " — a name given him on account of the devo- tion with which he cultivated a large patch of potatoes, upon Prairie Ronde, the first year of his arrival. Here, too, it was that I first saw Cyrus Lovell — otherwise " Squire Lovell " — celebrated for the unerring certainty with which he would despatch any luckless fly that might incontinently light upon his person. At the very time of which I speak, it was my privilege to witness the terrible skill of the " Squire " upon more than thirty •ccasions. But I must hurry to a close with these trivial reminiscences, lest I abuse the patience of the reader and mar the object for which they were intended. In October 1835, I became an apprentice to Gilbert & Chandler, at the printing business, they having a sh«rt time previous commenced publishing a newspaper called the " Michigan Statesman" shortly after, the " Kalamazoo Ga- 59 teiic.^ In a few weeks, h(iwever, Mr. Chandler retired from the firm, and Mr. Gilbert became sole proprietor, and and so remained until 1840, when he sold to E. D. Burr, who after conducting the establishment for a few months, surrendered it to Mr. Gilbert, who, part of the time alone, and part of ihe time in company Avith others, continued to carry on the busi- ness, until 1845, when the present proprietor purchased the office, with nothing but his notes, and in three months, wa« obliged to sell, which he did to J. W. Breese, Esq., who after nine months trial, was glad to resell it btck to myself since which time — May 1, 1846 — it has been constantly under my control. It may be, that at some future time 1 may wnle a brief history of the early vicissitudes of the Gazette Of- fice ; but it would hardly be proper here, after the large space I have already occupied. 1 have merely given the above facts, that the early history of the press may not be entirely lost, should no fuller statement be hereafter made. 1 append here, a few imperfect lines, written by me several years ago, embodying a legendary tale of the Indians, which en ay be true or false ; but as the incidents are said to have occurred in this vicinity, the trifle may not be wholly without interest. A NIGHT BATTLE SCENE ON THE KALAMAZOO, AN ihdian legend. On the bank of the river, about a mile below this place, is pointed out a spot which is said to have been the scene of a battle fought near the middle of the last century, between the Sioux and Ottawa Indians. According to the tradition among the Indians, these tribes, after many years of feud and strife met on the spot above mentioned, with all their warriors, to make a final decision of their difficulties. It seems that Wa- cousta, the Chief of the Ottawas, had formed a plan of attack by night, in order that he might come upon the enemy una- wares, and thus, taking them in an unprepared state, might more easily and more securely accomplish his purpose. But the enemy learned the design through his own son, who cher- ishing an affection for the daughter of the Sioux Chief, vea- turtd to the tent of her father on the night of the intended massacre and privately warned the maiden of her danger, €0 and besought her to stek safety in immediate flight. But she considering her duty to her people and her kindred para- mount to the affection of a lover, instantly gave the alarm . The Sioux warriors being thus put on their guard, silently awaited the approach of the enemy ; who advancing secretly and cautiously within a short distance of the Sioux tents, rushed on to their work with the soul -chilling war-whoop. But the enemy, forewarned, were prepared to receiv* them, which so completely surprised the Ottawas, that they were compelled to retreat on the first onset ; but being rallied by their Chief, they returned to the contest and after a long and bUody struggle, succeeded in defeating the Sioux ; losing however, their Chieftain — a warrior deserving the first ran' ^moag the Indian heroes : The night wind sighed, faintly, its dirge through the treei, The cry of the owlet wai borne on the breeze — And the scream of the eagle, in accents so fell. Intermingled its notes with the wild panther's yell. Darkly the storm-cloud was lowering around. Enshrouding all nature in darkness profound. More dreadful that hour, more dismal that gloom Than the soul-chilling horror that reigns at the tomb. But behold ! fee, the watch-fire is kindled afar ; Wacousta has lighted the beaoon of war ! And wo© te the Sioux if the darkness of night Shall find him in slumber, unarmed for the fight ! For deep is the ire of the Ottawa Chief When the hatchet is raised in revenge for his grief ; And deadly his vengeance his victim shall feel When the wrongs of Wacousta shall sharper the steel : Ah 1 where is the Sioux when the death-fire burns brifht f Sees he not from the hill the red glare of its light f And where is the Chief, when the enemy nigh. Shall rush to the carnage with the dread battle cry ? But, hark ! there's a wail of deep grief on the air, In the accents of woe break* that cry of despair. gay why on the breeze coraefe that voice of lament. In the frenzy of anguish, from the dark Sioux tent ? Ah, list! — 'ti» Wahcondah who entreats in that prayer— 'WACeusta, thy son is the suppUant there ; For oft he hatii sworn to the bright Sioux maid Tb« faith of the warrior, which but death shall iavidt. 61 Ht comes to entreat that from danger tfar, Tke maiden will ily from the temptst of war. Bit true to her eenntry when danger is near. She heeds not the warnings of puril or fear ; But quick through the camp of the slumbering Sioux, On the Toice of the maiden the dread signal fiew. How sudden the change af the sleeper to life ! Of the warrior at rest to the warrior for strife ! As if earth from its bosom had yielded its clay All armed for the conflict in battle array. Deep silence reigns there 'mid that dark warrior band, All steadfast and firm with their armor they stand. But, hark ! oh the air breaks the Ottawa's yell. More fierce than the shrieks of the demons of hell. Like fiends of despair they come down on the foe ; Destruction and Death follow fast where they go, But, see ! the bold Sioux receive the dread shock- All bravely they stand as the firm mountain rock. Lo ! carnage stalks forth on that red battle field ; For sooner the warrior meets death than to yield. Ah ! dire is the fight whea the brare meets the brave ; And rich then the harvest that cumbers the grave. But hark ! there is triumph breaks forth in thai yell, For deadly the Sioux' red tomahawks tell : — The Ottawa shrinks from that charge ef the foe, For the spirit of death is abroad in each blow. They turn— but the form ot Wacousta stands forth. And darker his frown than the clouds of the North ; More fiercely his yell breaks alOud on the air Than the cries of the Furies urged on by despair. ******* *Tis done I for the Sioux has fled far away ; N© longer he urges the deadly affray : But a tear dims the eye of the Ottawa brave — Their Chieftain sleeps cold in the warrior's red grave, Wacousta ! Wacotista I O, long will thy name Stand brightly, the first on the pages of fame. Thy spirit has gone to the far father land, To meet with the manes of thy bright kindred bacd. May the waves in sad cadence thy requiem roll. While the soft, gentle zephyrs waft praise to thy moI. ****•*♦ 62 A mound mark« the Bp*t wher^ the Chieft&in rdpetes. And over his tomb blooms a bed of wild roses. There are other traditions of an interesting character con- laected with our locality, which, could they be collected and preserved, might be used in some future work of local his- tory to great advantage ; but it would swell this article to aft inordinate length, to give even the outlines ; and I presume it would not comport with the object of your present under- taking, to go thus extensively into matters no better aulhenti- catsd than these wild legends usually are. Very Respectfully, V. HASCALL. Kalamazoo in 1833. MRS. HENRIETTA S. T. TAYLOR, Secretary Ladies* Library Association, Kal. Michigan, Time in its passage through twenty-two years, hatb wrought a change in the County of Kalamazoo, which to those of us, who were among the "early settlers," seems marvellous and dreamlike. I remember well, a pleasant ride I had, in the early part of November, 1833, from my humble cabin, on " Prairie Ronde," passing over tie "Indian trail" which touched the margin of " Dry Prairie," thence across a somewhat broken country, until it finally passed down on the plain, near the dwelling house, on what now constitutes the " Axtell Farm;" my errand was to purchase, at what was then considered the great mart of trade for this County, a supply of Salt. The Trading House below the present vil- lage of Kalamazoo and near where now stands the Furnace, furnished the principal supply of Salt and Iron, (and that in very limited quantities) and other necessaries to the Pioneer. At the Trading House, I found a large number of Indians, bartering for their supplies of Blue Calico and Whiskey. My mission was speedily and satisfactorily accomplished, by an exchange of twelve dollars and fifty cents in silver coin, for one barrel of salt, the salt to be brought home in the course of a few days, by the ox team of a neighbor, who was jointly interested with me in the purchase. On my return, I had for companions, " Sagawaw '' the village Chief of some two score of Indian Lodges, located on what is termed the " North West Neck " of Prairie Ronde, and his interpreter, " Duro- cher," a mongrel, his mother a Squaw, his father a Canadian Frenchman. The Chief was a noble specimen of his race, reserved, and with little disposition to indulge in idle talk. — Durocher, on the contrary, had many of the peculiarities of the Frenchman, a constant disposition to exaggerate, violent in his gesticulation, with a copious, and sometimes almost a furious flow of words. In passing a point of marsh land, distan t about one mile from the present Axtell Farm House, 64 the Indian pointed to a mound shaped spot of land, entirely surrounded by the marsh, and explamed through Durocher, that tliere stood, during the last war with England, a «hop, in, which iwo men, (one French, the other English,) labored \n repasring the guns of the Indians. He stated that the rudo shop was erected, and the men paid by the British Govern- ment, and that the repairs were made for the Indians, free o( any charge ; that the shop was placed on that knoll or mound surrounded by a wet marsh, as a protection to some extent, against fire. Sagawaw also stated, that many Indians were at that spot, for weeks, obtaining repairs and making their simple arrangements, in anticipation of a great battle to be fought in the month of December, A. D. 1812, in the Easteru part of what now constitutes the State of Michigan, and thai fheir expectations were sadly realized in the bloody fight at Frenchtown, on the River Raisin, on the 22d day of January. A. D. 1813, where the very flower of the Kentucky soldiery, including the gallant company led on by Captain Hart, were butchered almost to a man. A few of the American soldiers escaped the indiscriminate slaughter of that dreadful fight, for it stands a recorded historical fact, to the eternal disgrace of Proctor, the British Commander, that he suffered and ^ven encouraged the Indians to pursue this murderous thirst for blood after the remnant of Americans had surrendered. Among the small band that escaped the tomahawk and scalp- ing knife, of the Indians, in that perilous fight, and who with a few others, was taken captive into Canada, was one of the pioneers of our County, and who still lives, a farmer on ** Gourd Neck Prairie — the Government has recently be- stowed on him, for his services, a warrant for Bounty Land, und well might John McComsey waive his accustomed mod- esty and say with patriotic pride, in enumerating his military services, I was in the thickest of the fight at the " Battle of th^ River Raising The Pottawattarnies — to which tribe Sagawaw was at tached, were all, the allies of the British. As the old Chief described what he had witnessed at, and around the spot where we then stood, with extended arm, he directed our eyes to the circular spot where the coal was burnt and prepared for the forge of that primative workshop, and there, within the square of ground, upon which the shop once stood, could still be seen the charred block, on which the anvil bad rested , 65 To my enquiry, why were the Pottawattamies always th« Allies of the British, and enemies of the Americans, came the .•eady answer, " Our Father " over the big water gave to xha Indian plenty of powder, lead and blankets, and always a^-- companied the present with the solemn declaration that the Americans had ever intended to drive the Indian away west of the " Father of Waters." But not to be tedious in these early reminiscences, I recar again to the marked change in the country throughout the County of Kalamazoo, within the past score of years ; the face of the country is peculiar in its wild state, the cherished home of the Indian, and with kis little labor and effort, fur- nishing him free'y with the means of substance ; its wide spread piairies and beautiful groves, before the disturbing' hand of the white man had touched them, more lovely than ain English landscape, and in its season embellished with fi Verdure and a profusion and variety of flowers, that wouUi have pleased the eye and made happy the heart of the poet. And now, after the lapse ©f these few years, since this same country has been surrendered for what has been termed, the iimprovement of civilization, we have presented for our enjoys -ment, all the comfort and luxuries of life. Intelligent travel- ers, in their western tours, have oft times favorably noted the Tillage of Kalamazoo, as having in its location, convenience and beauty, in intimate combination. The even plain ami surrounding liills, it would almost seem, expressly prepared for the ornamental and useful efforts of the builder Its peo- ple are mainly from the hills of New England, ajland that sendi^ its sons for energetic efforts in civilization and refinement, all over the world. Here also, we find spacious streets, and dwellings commodious, and exhibiting th3 skill of the arch* tect ; the merchant with enlarged capital is before us, with his rich display of fabrics, exhibiting American skill, or wo Yen in the "old world." Churches presenting large outlay of means, have been erected, creditable to the several relig sous societies, Who thus give evidence that they acknowledge 1hc Supremacy of that Being who gives to us life, health, and prosperity . But I am reminded that 1 occupy this page by virtue o( my 1 position, as one of the early settlers, and that brevity in the; •writer, hath oft times more of interest than his style or subject. H, G. W. ^9* l¥a€ousta; A Tradition of the Ottawas. W. C. RANSOM. Not altogether free of romance are the localities around our beautiful Village. Indeed, America's most distinguished novelist, the lamented Cooper, placed the scene of •ne of his latest tales along the shores of that beautiful stream which winding along the base of the ampitheatring hills that sur- rounds our Village, shines like a sheen of silver in the far oW distance. About this beautiful garden spot of our State it was the de- light of the red men to gather. Here were their homes ; here their council fires ; and here too, reposed in safety their old men and women, while their braves, on some distant ex- pedition, carried terror to the hearts of their enemies. Upon at high bluff just below our village, repose the remains of one of the most noted Chieftains of the Ottawa Tribe. An in- teresting tradition of his people relates the history of his death, as follows : Many Moons ago ere the pale face had looked upon the blue waters of the Michigan ; while yet the Ottawas, the Hu. Tons, the Chippewas and Pottawatamies held undisputed sway over that vast tract of country which is washed by th© sur* rounding lakes; the Sioux a numerous and warlike tribe, whose domains extended from the shores of the Michigan Lake to the Mississippi, on the west, sent out a large war party, who, passing around the head of the lake, invaded the territory occupied by the Ottawas, who were gathered in large nutabers at this point, celebrating the annual feast of \h^ harvest. At peace wiiii their neighbors, and not suspecting danger, rtie Sioux party had approached to the top of the hills that overlook our valley on the west, without the slightest sub- 67 picion on the part of the Ottawas, of the promity of their dangerous foes. Here they paused and awaited the darkness of the night, ere they should make that attack which would send the dusky spirit of many a brave to the happy hunting grounds of the spirit land. The feast and the dance of the harvest went merrily on around the happy fires, the young warrior wooed an! won, the brave recited his deeds of daring, and tne sagimunds of the nation looked grave and smiled by turns at the festive scenes around them. Among the Ottawas was one who jomed not in the festivities. — " The Eagles feather " contrasted strongly with the dark hair in which it was twincd» and his noble bearing proclaimed him, who sat apart from his com- rades, to be a personage of no common position, for he was the son of Wacousta the Chief of his tribe. Once upon an expedition, he had wandered far away from the home of his fathers to the wigwams of the Sioux, here he had sought and obtained the promise of the hand of a Chieftain's daughter, and returned to his home, promising that many moons should not pass, ere he would return and claim his beautiful bride. Well did the young Ottawa know that his tribe would never consent to his taking a wife from a foreign nation, so long as many an Ottawa girl aspired to his hand, and hitherto he had found no fitting opportunity to make his stern father acquainted with his determination. In the meantime the Sioux girl tired of the long delay of her absent lover, learn ing from her father that they were about to visit his country, after much solicitation, was permitted to accompany the party in their excursion, and was now in their camp, and from her people, learned that a night attack was to be made on the Ottawas, with the intention of cutting them off at a blow. From the outliers she also learned that Wacousta was among them, and Omeena his Son. To save his family from the threatened massacre was the determination of the Sioux maid, and accordingly, after night- fall, she started from the camp and threading her way noise- lessly under the dark shadows of the forest, she soon reached the camp of the Ottawas. Drawing the folds of her blanket closely around her face to conceal it from the sight of her enemies, she quickly found herself at the door of a Lodge, from the size of which, she judged the owner to be of no common rank. Glancing hastily 68 snto the faces of the sleeping occupants as the flickering fire revealed them to view, she saw that Omeena was not there and turned away to continue the search elsewhere. Hardly, however, had she changed her course, ere she met ^he young Ottawa returning to the lodge which she had but just visited. Great was the surprise of the young Chieftain at meeting his affianced there ; but not less surprised was he H.H she revealed to him the proximity of his foes, and warned him to apprize his family, that ihey might flee from danger. She then retraced her steps, and her absence having been un- iiioticed, was soon seated among the people of her nation. Hard was the struggle in the mind of Omeena, as he pon- tiered over the intelligence which had but just reached him. — The struggle was but brief, the glory of the brave, and the U>ve of his nation triumphed over every other principle, and soon hundreds of grim warriors sallied forth, to form an am- buscade for the approaching enemies. Crossing the Kalama- y.oo, they secreted themselves in the dark thicket on its west- -irn bank, and awaited the Sioux's coming. Just as the harvest moon had risen brightly over the Eastern hills the ulmost silent tread of the warriors betokened their approach, !^nd now the Ottawa war cry went up to the bending sky iVum hundreds of braves, and the deadly affiay commenced. Warrior with warrior grappled, and together sunk in death's embrace. First in the fight moved the stately Wacous- la. Eagerly he sought the Sioux leader, and to terminate the contest with the result of a single combat. The morning oame, and with it the struggle had ceased. The Sioux de- teated at every point, had retreated, leaving their Chieftain among the dead of the battle field. Upon his breast rechned the head of a young Sioux girl whose beauty had not protected her from the merciless toma- hawk, as she endeavored in the fury of the fray, to shield the fallen body of her father. A little distance from the Sioux Chieftain, reposed on the dewy grass the body of another warrior, the plumes that were turned in his hair, draggled and trailing on the earth. The serenity of death had calmed the stern features, and this was all that remained here of Wacousia. Omeena survived the fray, and when evenings shadows^ were again resting upon the landscape, they carried out the bodies of the noble dead, and buried them side by side. «!» At iheU- crave, thev planted llsa wild r.«e, and wilK ««c;> rem nm" spring, Ihe Otlavva maidons came to »<-« «ni o c . flower, ttt:. resting pUce "^ "'^^"""3 '»'""\|;: ;,^^ the braves to look upon the spot wh,er« imposed ,»« noU... Wacousia and his deadly foe. The Aboris^ines. •^** BY GEORGE TORREY. They*ve pass'd away ; that ancient race, A thousand years ago ; Swept from the earth, and scarce a trac©, Tells where their dust lies low. These Prairies, with fair flowrets spread, These garden beds so green ; These mounds of earth, that hold their d©ad. Tell that such men have been. Rude, unrefined, perchance their life. Was spent in useful toil, ITnskill'd in arms — averse to strife, They till'd the fruitful soil. They rear'd their Temples to the Sun, Their shrines, to gods unknown, And ceremonial rites were done. On the " Sacrificial Stone." Krewhile another race, more rude, Wild warrior Hunters came, From their far western solitudes. Pursuing here their game. They found this peaceful, happy race, Spread o'er this wide domain ; Tbay laid their fields and Temples waate , . And swept them from the plain. Far South, beyond the mighty stream That bore them on its tide. They've passed — their history is a dreftoa. Their name with them has died. No »• storied urn " no sculp tur'd stono, No written scroll of fame, 71 To tell their deeds, these moanda &laik» Stand here, without a name. They're gone, their untold legions tweH, The army of the dead ; Unwept, unsung, their ashes dwell, Unhonored, where we tread. Perchance these Prairies, where no siga Of tree or shrnb is seen, Were covered with th' Oak and Pine, The forest's king and queen. Tho Saxon race that came from far. Beyond the dark blue wave. Hither led on by Freedom's star. That guides the Free and Brave. Have reared a nation, who at length.. Has spread its flowing tide, O'er the wide west, whose wealth and 9l<^ei>giH Fills its great heart with pride. And what shall be our monument. When we have passed away : What ** Illiad " shall tho muse invent, Or history portray ? Would that some bard like him cf old, Who sung of '♦ arts and arms," Our Nation's glory would unfold. With the poet's fairy charms. Muse of Columbia's favored lai^d. Some native bard inspire, To wake wiih glowing heart and hand, Thy long neglected Lyre. Indian TVames. A.lon^ Algoma's rocky shore. Roll the wild Northern waves; Chanting sad dirges as tliey ronr, Around the red men's gravea. And Michigan's dark bosom. hiM^* To Huron's wilder shore, The mingled tide of man^ a «tr«^aa, Named by thwso meix of yore< 72 l^Iuskegttn, rtiiling down, 'mid |T*re» Of dark and stately pines; 'Where the dun deer, undaunted rotes. Within these dark confines. And VVashteteong, whose val lies broad, A golden harvest yields; The home where once th« red roan trod. Lord oi" those fertile fields. And thy sweet sylvan, silvery tide, Ke-Kalamazoo, hast seen Their clustered cabins on thy side. Their sports upon th© green. Thou hastbcrne along their lijrht cawo©. And heard their war-whoop ring; Did'st thou hear who named thee, Kalamixo').' Was it chieftain, sage, or king? It matters not Aw name or raak. Or whence thy baptism came, While thy swift waters lave their bank. Shall live thine Indian name! yes: Michigan hath many a name, Graven on her virgin breast, To consecrate for aye, their fame, Whose sleeping dust there resLs, Her Lakes, her Streams, her Forast shades. Her Prairies, Plains, and Mounds, B«ar records of the race who rnade, The wide West, hallowed ground. Then cherish still, these Indian names, Fulfill the sacred trust, Bequeathed by thoje whose hiBrorj' c'fc'ms A plaoe, where sleeps their dust. By G FORGE TOHRK'i «^i07 89 > 4^^ ■^^ * rt f Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proce Oxide o. aO'^ _.•_::.'. *> v' _,. SEP 199) ^'. •• -A. ^v^^^^"* .*^l^v ^^w^ ♦• >^^%. '-^ .c *b -^ PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES. L 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 0^ % y ,/%. CKMAN )ERY INC. ^ NOV 89 W N. MANCHESTER, ^ INDJANA 46962