One hundred and Tenth Day.

_Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _August Twenty-ninth_.

Met George L. Darby, an old comrade of the "Harris Light," in the afternoon. He had noticed my signature on the hotel register, and came at once to my room, where after the heartiest of greetings we sat down for a long talk. Thirteen years had slipped away since the time of our capture at New Baltimore, Virginia, which led him to Belle Isle and me to Libby Prison, and yet as we discussed it all, the reality of those events seemed undiminished. Kilpatrick, Stuart, Fitzhugh Lee--their clever manoeuvring, and our own unfortunate experiences on that day, kept us as enthusiastically occupied as though it were not an old story: but soldiers may be pardoned for recurring to those events which, while they impressed themselves upon witnesses with indelible distinctness, may yet have lost their bitterness, when it is remembered that before many years they and their stories will have pa.s.sed away. To those who indulge in the absurd belief that such topics are discussed with malicious intent, no justification need be made.

Led on from one thing to another, I found Darby finally plying me with questions of kindly interest about my peaceful march from Ocean to Ocean, and anxiously asking about my horse, which I had previously left in his care. He offered to do all he could for the animal and with this comforting a.s.surance took his leave.

One hundred and Eleventh Day.

_Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _August Thirtieth_.

Early in the afternoon Darby called with fishing tackle and proposed that we go out to Lake of the Woods and try our luck with hook and line.

The expedition was not successful as far as fish was concerned, but we had a delightful boat ride and plenty of talk.

The lake, a pretty little dot lying, as its name implies, in the heart of the woods, is an ideal spot for rest and enjoyment, and its miniature dimensions bear no resemblance to its famed namesake of Minnesota. As we had such poor success with our tackle I took no note of the kind of fish that make their home within its sleepy borders, and my companion gave me very little information. The truth is, we were more interested in our concerns and the serious affairs outside the sport which so fascinated Izak Walton.

One hundred and Twelfth Day.

_Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _August Thirty-first_.

Albert W. Rogers, to whom I had been previously introduced, called late in the afternoon, and invited me to drive with him, determined, he told me, that I should see something of Decatur's surroundings. The time was favorable for agreeable impressions. It had been a typical summer day, with blue sky, a slight breeze and the mercury at 70; in short, just such weather as I had encountered in this section of Michigan throughout the month of August, and as evening approached, I was prepared to enjoy to the utmost the pleasure which my new acquaintance had provided.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SPINNING YARNS BY A TAVERN FIRE.]

On the outskirts of the town one gets a view of gently rolling country under a splendid state of cultivation, the yellow of the grain fields predominating, and dotted here and there with farmhouses. Dark outlines against the horizon suggested the forests of oak, ash, maple, birch and elm, which stretch over such large tracts of Van Buren County, and which have made a little paradise for lumbermen. Wheat, maize and hay appeared to be nourishing; but I believe that agricultural products do their best in the rich bottom-lands bordering the rivers. I have dwelt so enthusiastically upon this fertile country that to say more would seem extravagant, so I will bring my note, the chronicle of a most delightful day, to a close.

One Hundred and Thirteenth Day.

_Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _September First_.

Received and answered a large mail after breakfast, and in the afternoon took a walk through the village. One is, of course, reminded of the gallant Commodore whose name, once among the greatest in America, now honors this modest Western town, and whose deeds, once upon every lip in the young republic, are wellnigh forgotten. The question even suggests itself as to how many of those who live here, where his name is perpetuated, are familiar with his life and character.

His capture of the frigate _Philadelphia_, which had been seized and held in the harbor of Tripoli in 1801, during the pacha's seizure of our merchantmen, was said by Admiral Nelson to be "the most daring act of the age," and his diplomacy at Algiers and Tunis and Tripoli, where in 1812 his demands were acceded to, received the applause of all Christendom, especially because those demands included the release of the Christian captives at Algiers and of the Danish and Neapolitan prisoners at Tripoli, and ended, forever, the pretensions of the Barbary powers.

After the trial of Commodore Barron for cowardice, Decatur made some remarks which the former thought should not be allowed to pa.s.s unnoticed, and accordingly called upon his accuser to retract them. This Decatur refused to do, but attempted to bring about a reconciliation.

Barren refused this and threw down the gauntlet, and when shortly afterwards the two met to settle the difficulty "with honor," both fell at the word "Fire!"--Decatur mortally wounded. The affair was universally deplored, for his loyal services had endeared Decatur to his country, and when his remains were taken to the grave, they were followed by the largest concourse of people that had ever a.s.sembled in Washington.

One Hundred and Fourteenth Day.

_Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _September Second_.

This was a great day for Decatur. With the morning came the completion of arrangements for a Republican ma.s.s-meeting, and a rustic band from an adjacent village arrived at nine o'clock in a farm wagon. The "Stars and Stripes" floated majestically over the heads of the patriotic musicians, and the people were drawn from every quarter to the stirring call of fife and drum, eager to see their leaders and to listen to their views upon the vital questions of the day. The "Silver Cornet Band" of Dowagiac co-operated with the "Decatur Fife and Drum Corps," in rousing the dormant element of the place, and, as its imposing appellation would imply, did so with dignified and cla.s.sical selections.

The political campaign which had been slumbering since the nomination of Hayes and Tilden reached an interesting stage of its progress at this time, and the friends and champions of the rival candidates were fully alive to the issues of their respective platforms.

By nightfall the place was the scene of great activity, and to an onlooker produced a singular effect. Men were collected in groups engaged in excited conversation, torches flared in every direction, while at brief intervals all voices were drowned in some lively tune from the silver cornets or the fife and drum.

At an appointed hour the speakers of the evening appeared, and I noticed among them Hon. Ransom H. Nutting and Hon. Thomas W. Keightly--the latter a candidate for Congress from this district. The meeting closed at a late hour, after a succession of heated addresses, and yet the politicians of Van Buren County seemed not at all averse to continuing their talking until sunrise.

One hundred and fifteenth Day.

_Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _September Third_.

Accepting an invitation from Albert Rogers, I accompanied him to the Presbyterian Church in the morning, where Rev. Mr. Hoyt, a young clergyman, conducted the services and preached a very good sermon. I was pleased by the courtesy extended me when he said, in the course of his announcements. "I take pleasure in calling attention to Captain Glazier's lecture at Union Hall to-morrow night. I shall be present myself, and recommend all who wish to listen to an instructive and patriotic lecture to be at the hall before eight o'clock." When the service was over Mr. Rogers and I waited to have a few words with Mr.

Hoyt, who was evidently very much interested in my journey across country and who intended to lend his influence in behalf of the "Monument Fund." We then returned to the hotel where I pa.s.sed the remainder of the day quietly in my room.

One hundred and Sixteenth Day.

_Duncombe House_, DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _September Fourth_.

Lectured to a full house at Union Hall in the evening. My sojourn of a week at this place and the interest felt in the effort to perpetuate the memory of Custer, brought about the most gratifying results. Among those who were with me on the platform were Hon. Ransom Nutting, Rev. Mr.

Hoyt, Prof. Samuel G. Burked and Albert W. Rogers. I was presented by Mr. Nutting, after which testimonials from the Monument a.s.sociation were read by Prof. Burked, and later the following pleasant acknowledgment from these gentlemen was handed me:

DECATUR, MICHIGAN, _September 4, 1876_.

CAPTAIN WILLARD GLAZIER,

MY DEAR SIR: We take this means of expressing to you our appreciation of the highly instructive and very entertaining lecture delivered by you at Union Hall this evening. Truly we admire your plan and your generosity in giving the entire proceeds to the Custer Monument Fund. Our endors.e.m.e.nt is the expression of our village people generally. You have made many friends here.

May success attend you throughout your journey.

Very respectfully,

S. GORDON BURKED, RANSOM NUTTING, ALBERT W. ROGERS.

Such greeting as this, extended to me all along my way, gives substantial proof of the universal kindness with which I was received, and of the spontaneous hospitality of the American citizen.

One hundred and Seventeenth Day.

_Seymour House_, DOWAGIAC, MICHIGAN, _September Fifth_.

There was a large gathering in front of the Duncombe House in the morning when I mounted _Paul_ and faced westward, turning my back upon the hospitable little village in which I had spent so many pleasant days, and where I felt that I had indeed made many friends. Mr. Rogers and a young man of the place, whose name I am sorry to have forgotten, escorted me out of town intending to ride with me to Dowagiac, but an approaching rain-storm obliged them to turn back. As I came in sight of the village I noticed unmistakable signs of a stream which I discovered was the Dowagiac River, a tributary of the St. Joseph, entering it near Niles. It has been put to good account by the millers, who have established themselves here, and in its small way adds to the blessings of the Michigan husbandmen on its sh.o.r.es.

One hundred and Eighteenth Day.

_Private House_, NILES, MICHIGAN, _September Sixth_.

The threatening storm which led my Decatur friends to turn back on the previous afternoon, set in soon after my arrival at Dowagiac, and I considered myself very fortunate, as it was accompanied by the most violent thunder and lightning that I had yet encountered.

Notwithstanding this disturbed condition of the elements, I was greeted by a full house at Young Men's Hall, where I was introduced by Dr.