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Title: Sword and Pen - Ventures and Adventures of Willard Glazier
Author: Owens, John Algernon
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Sword and Pen - Ventures and Adventures of Willard Glazier" ***

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Transcriber's note:

      Several minor typographical errors have been corrected in
      transcribing this work: contineu, secresy, bubling,
      reconnoissance, cotemporary, delived (should be delivered),
      eat (ate), Alleghany, amendmet, lage (large). Otherwise the
      text is original and retains some inconsistent or outdated

      The original contains two lengthy addenda supplied by the
      publisher which were not named in the Table of Contents.
      Entries for these have been added to the Contents for
      the convenience of the reader.

      Despite the many testimonials in this book, as of 2008, the
      source of the Mississippi is considered to be Lake Itasca.
      Following a five-month investigation in 1891 it was decided
      that the stream from Elk Lake (the body that Glazier would
      have called Lake Glazier) into Itasca is too insignificant
      to be deemed the river's source. Both lakes can be seen,
      looking much as they do in the maps in this book, by directing
      any online mapping service to 47°11'N, 95°14'W.


       *       *       *       *       *


Captain Willard Glazier.


  I. Soldiers of the Saddle.
 II. Capture, Prison-Pen, and Escape.
III. Battles for the Union.
 IV. Heroes of Three Wars.
  V. Peculiarities of American Cities.
 VI. Down the Great River.

Captain Glazier's works are growing more and more popular
every day. Their delineations of military life, constantly
varying scenes, and deeply interesting stories, combine to
place their writer in the front rank of American authors.




       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: (signed) Willard Glazier]



Ventures and Adventures


(The Soldier-Author,)

War and Literature:
Incidents and Reminiscences of His Childhood; His
Chequered Life As a Student and Teacher; and His
Remarkable Career As a Soldier and Author;
Embracing Also the Story of His Unprecedented
Journey from Ocean to Ocean
on Horseback; and an Account of
His Discovery of the True Source
of the Mississippi River, and
Canoe Voyage Thence to
the Gulf of Mexico.




P. W. Ziegler &. Company, Publishers,
720 Chestnut Street.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880, by
John Algernon Owens,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D.C.


No apology will be required from the author for presenting to the public
some episodes in the useful career of a self-made man; and while the
spirit of patriotism continues to animate the sturdy sons of America,
the story of one of them who has exemplified this national trait in a
conspicuous measure, will be deemed not unworthy of record. The lessons
it teaches, more especially to the young, are those of uncompromising
_duty_ in every relation of life--self-denial, perseverance and "pluck;"
while the successive stages of a course which led ultimately to a
brilliant success, may be studied with some advantage by those just
entering upon the business of life. As a soldier, Willard Glazier was
"without fear and without reproach." As an author, it is sufficient to
say, he is appreciated by his _contemporaries_--than which, on a
literary man, no higher encomium can be passed. The sale of nearly half
a million copies of one of his productions is no slight testimony to its

Biography, to be interesting, must be a transcript of an eventful, as
well as a remarkable career; and to be instructive, its subject should
be exemplary in his aims, and in his mode of attaining them. The hero of
this story comes fully up to the standard thus indicated. His career has
been a romance. Born of parents of small means but of excellent
character and repute; and bred and nurtured in the midst of some of the
wildest and grandest scenery in the rugged county of St. Lawrence,
close by the "Thousand Isles," where New York best proves her right to
be called the Empire State through the stamp of royalty on her hills and
streams--under the shadow of such surroundings as these, my subject
attained maturity, with no opportunities for culture except those he
made for himself. Yet he became possessed of an education eminently
useful, essentially practical and calculated to establish just such
habits of self-reliance and decision as afterwards proved chiefly
instrumental in his success. Glazier had a fixed ambition to rise. He
felt that the task would be difficult of accomplishment--that he must be
not only the architect, but the builder of his own fortunes; and, as the
statue grows beneath the sculptor's hand to perfect contour from the
unshapely block of marble, so prosperity came to Captain Glazier only
after he had cut and chiseled away at the hard surface of inexorable
circumstance, and moulded therefrom the statue of his destiny.

                                                               J. A. O.
  Philadelphia, _June 14th_, 1880.

       *       *       *       *       *

                              THE MEMORY OF

                          ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT,

                               WHOSE SWORD,

                              AND TO THAT OF

                        HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW,

                                WHOSE PEN,

     Have so Nobly Illustrated the Valor and Genius of their Country:

                                THE AUTHOR,

                  In a Spirit of Profound Admiration for

                            THE RENOWNED SOLDIER,

                      And of Measureless Gratitude to

                             THE IMMORTAL WRITER,

                             Dedicates This Book.

       *       *       *       *       *


                                CHAPTER I.

                      ORIGIN OF THE GLAZIER FAMILY.

  Lineage of Willard Glazier.--A good stock.--Oliver Glazier at the
  Battle of Bunker Hill.--The home of honest industry.--The Coronet of
  Pembroke.--The "Homestead Farm."--Mehitable Bolton.--Her New England
  home.--Her marriage to Ward Glazier.--The wild "North Woods."--The
  mother of the soldier-author                                          21

                               CHAPTER II.


  The infant stranger.--A mother's prayers.--"Be just before you are
  generous."--Careful training.--Willard Glazier's first battle.--A
  narrow escape.--Facing the foe.--The "happy days of childhood."--
  "The boy is father to the man"                                        27

                               CHAPTER III.

                          EARLY LIFE AND HABITS.

  Scotch-Irish Presbyterianism of twenty-five years ago.--The "little
  deacon."--First days at school.--Choosing a wife.--A youthful
  gallant.--A close scholar but a wild lad.--A mother's influence.--
  Ward Glazier a Grahamite.--Young Willard's practical jokes.--
  Anecdote of Crystal Spring.--"That is something like water"           34

                               CHAPTER IV.

                        WILLARD GLAZIER AT SCHOOL.

  School-days continued.--Boys will be boys.--Cornelius Carter, the
  teacher.--Young Willard's rebellion against injustice.--
  Gum-chewing.--Laughable race through the snow.--The tumble into a
  snow-bank, and what came of it.--The runaway caught.--Explanation
  and reconciliation.--The new master, James Nichols.--"Spare the rod
  and spoil the child."--The age of chivalry not gone.--Magnanimity
  of a school-boy.--Friendship between Willard and Henry
  Abbott.--Good-bye to the "little deacon"                              42

                                CHAPTER V.


  Henry Glazier.--A singular character.--"Kaw-shaw-gan-ce" and
  "Quaw-taw-pee-ab."--Tom Lolar and Henry Glazier.--Attractive
  show-bills.--Billy Muldoon and his trombone.--Behind the
  scenes.--"Sound your G!"--The mysterious musician.--What happened to
  Billy.--"May the divil fly away wid ye!"                              50

                               CHAPTER VI.

                          VISIONS OF THE FUTURE.

  The big uncle and the little nephew.--Exchange of ideas between the
  eccentric Henry Glazier and young Willard.--Inseparable
  companions.---Willard's early reading.--Favorite authors.--
  Hero-worship of the first Napoleon and Charles XII. of Sweden.--
  The genius of good and of evil.--Allen Wight.--A born teacher.--
  Reverses of fortune.--The shadow on the home.--Willard's resolve
  to seek his fortune and what came of it.--The sleep under the
  trees.--The prodigal's return.--"All's well that ends well"           58

                               CHAPTER VII.

                         WILLARD GLAZIER AT HOME.

  Out of boyhood.--Days of adolescence.--True family pride.--Schemes
  for the future.--Willard as a temperance advocate.--Watering his
  grandfather's whiskey.--The pump behind the hill.--The sleigh-ride
  by night.--The "shakedown" at Edward's.--Intoxicated by tobacco
  fumes.--The return ride.--Landed in a snow-bank.--Good-bye horses
  and sleigh!--Plodding through the snow                                68

                              CHAPTER VIII.

                      ADVENTURES--EQUINE AND BOVINE.

  Ward Glazier moves to the Davis Place.--"Far in the lane a lonely
  house he found."--Who was Davis?--Description of the place.--A wild
  spot for a home.--Willard at work.--Adventure with an ox-team.--The
  road, the bridge and the stream.--"As an ox thirsteth for the
  water."--Dashed from a precipice!--Willard as a horse-tamer.--
  "Chestnut Bess," the blooded mare.--The start for home.--"Bess" on
  the rampage.--A lightning dash.--The stooping arch.--Bruised and
  unconscious                                                           75

                               CHAPTER IX.


  A plan of life.--Determination to procure an education.--A
  substitute at the plow.--His father acquiesces in his determination
  to become a trapper.--Life in the wild woods along the
  Oswegatchie.--The six "dead falls."--First success.--A fallacious
  calculation.--The goal attained.--Seventy-five dollars in hard
  cash!--Four terms of academic life.--The youthful rivals.--Lessons
  in elocution.--A fight with hair-brushes and chairs!--"The walking
  ghost of a kitchen fire."--Renewed friendship.--Teaching to obtain
  means for an education                                                87

                                CHAPTER X.

                        THE SOLDIER SCHOOL-MASTER.

  From boy to man.--The Lyceum debate.--Willard speaks for the
  slave.--Entrance to the State Normal School.--Reverses.--Fighting
  the world again.--Assistance from fair hands.--Willard meets Allen
  Barringer.--John Brown, and what Willard thought of him.--Principles
  above bribe.--Examination.--A sleepless night.--Haunted by the
  "ghost of possible defeat."--"Here is your certificate."--The school
  at Schodack Centre.--At the "Normal" again.--The Edwards
  School.--Thirty pupils at two dollars each.--The "soldier
  school-master."--Teachers at East Schodack.--The runaway
  ride.--Good-by mittens, robes and whip!--Close of school at East
  Schodack                                                             102

                               CHAPTER XI.

                      INTRODUCTION TO MILITARY LIFE.

  The mutterings of war.--Enlistment.--At Camp Howe.--First experience
  as a soldier.--"One step to the front!"--Beyond Washington.--On
  guard.--Promotion.--Recruiting service.--The deserted home on
  Arlington Heights.--"How shall I behave in the coming battle?"--The
  brave Bayard.--On the march.--The stratagem at Falmouth Heights.--A
  brilliant charge.--After the battle                                  118

                               CHAPTER XII.

                     FIRST BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION.

  The sentinel's lonely round.--General Pope in command of the
  army.--Is gunboat service effective?--First cavalry battle of Brandy
  Station.--Under a rain of bullets.--Flipper's orchard.--"Bring on
  the brigade, boys!"--Capture of Confederate prisoners.--Story of a
  revolver.--Cedar Mountain.--Burial of the dead rebel.--Retreat from
  the Rapidan.--The riderless horse.--Death of Captain Walters         128

                              CHAPTER XIII.

                       MANASSAS AND FREDERICKSBURG.

  Manassas.--The flying troops.--The unknown hero.--Desperate
  attempt to stop the retreat.--Recruiting the decimated
  ranks.--Fredericksburg.--Bravery of Meagher's brigade.--The
  impregnable heights.--The cost of battles.--Death of
  Bayard.--Outline of his life                                         135

                               CHAPTER XIV.

                            UNWRITTEN HISTORY.

  "What boots a weapon in a withered hand?"--A thunderbolt
  wasted.--War upon hen-roosts.--A bit of unpublished history.--A
  fierce fight with Hampton's cavalry.--In one red burial blent.--From
  camp to home.--Troubles never come singly.--The combat.--The
  capture.--A superfluity of Confederate politeness.--Lights and
  shadows                                                              144

                               CHAPTER XV.

                               THE CAPTURE.

  A situation to try the stoutest hearts.--Hail Columbia!--Every man a
  hero.--Kilpatrick's ingenuity.--A pen-picture from "Soldiers of the
  Saddle."--Glazier thanked by his general.--Cessation of
  hostilities.--A black day.--Fitzhugh Lee proposes to crush
  Kilpatrick.--Kil's audacity.--Capture of Lieutenant Glazier.--Petty
  tyranny.--"Here, Yank, hand me that thar hat, and overcoat, and
  boots"                                                               155

                               CHAPTER XVI.

                              LIBBY PRISON.

  "All ye who enter here abandon hope."--Auld lang syne.--Major
  Turner.--Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.--Stoicism.--Glazier
  enters the prison-hospital--A charnel-house.--Rebel surgeons.--
  Prison correspondence.--Specimen of a regulation letter.--The
  tailor's joke.--A Roland for an Oliver.--News of death.--Schemes
  for escape.--The freemasonry of misfortune.--Plot and
  counter-plot.--The pursuit of pleasure under difficulties            166

                              CHAPTER XVII.

                               PRISON LIFE.

  Mournful news.--How a brave man dies.--New Year's day.--Jolly under
  unfavorable circumstances.--Major Turner pays his respects.--
  Punishment for singing "villainous Yankee songs."--Confederate
  General John Morgan.--Plans for escape.--Digging their way to
  freedom.--"Poet No. 1, All's well."--Yankee ingenuity.--The tunnel
  ready.--Muscle the trump card.--No respect to rank.--_Sauve qui
  peut!_--A strategic movement.--"Guards! guards!"--Absentees from
  muster.--Disappointed hopes.--Savage treatment of prisoners.--Was
  the prison mined?                                                    179

                              CHAPTER XVIII.


  Belle Boyd, the Confederate spy.--National characteristics.--Colonel
  Mosby.--Richmond to Danville.--Sleeping spoon-fashion.--Glazier's
  "corrective point" suffers.--Saltatory entrance to a railroad
  car.--Colonel Joselyn.--Sympathy of North Carolinians.--Ingenious
  efforts to escape.--Augusta.--Macon.--Turner again!--"Carelessness"
  with firearms.--Tunneling.--Religious revival.--Order from
  Confederate War Department.--Murder!--Fourth of July.--Macon to
  Savannah.--Camp Davidson.--More tunneling                            194

                               CHAPTER XIX.

                        UNDER FIRE AT CHARLESTON.

  Under siege.--Charleston Jail.--The Stars and Stripes.--Federal
  compliments.--Under the guns.--Roper Hospital.--Yellow
  Jack.--Sisters of Charity.--Rebel Christianity.--A Byronic
  stanza.--Charleston to Columbia.--"Camp Sorghum."--Nemesis.--Another
  dash for liberty.--Murder of Lieutenants Young and Parker.--Studying
  topography.--A vaticination.--Back to reality                        206

                               CHAPTER XX.

                        THE ESCAPE FROM COLUMBIA.

  Mysterious voices.--"I reckon dey's Yankees."---"Who comes
  there?"--The Lady of the Manor.--A weird spectacle.--The struggle
  through the swamp.--A reflection on Southern swamps in
  general.--"Tired nature's sweet restorer"                            221

                               CHAPTER XXI.

                         LOYALTY OF THE NEGROES.

  Startled by hounds.--An unpleasant predicament.--A Christian
  gentlewoman.--Appeal to Mrs. Colonel Taylor.--"She did all she
  could."--A meal fit for the gods.--Aunt Katy.--"Lor' bress ye,
  marsters!"--Uncle Zeb's prayer.--Hoe-cake and pinders.--Woodcraft
  _versus_ astronomy.--Canine foes.--Characteristics of the slave.--
  Meeting escaped prisoners.--Danger.--Retreat and concealment         228

                              CHAPTER XXII.

                        PROGRESS OF THE FUGITIVES.

  Parting company.--Thirst and no water.--Hoping for the end.--The boy
  and the chicken.--Conversation of ladies overheard.--The fugitives
  pursued.--The sleeping village.--Captain Bryant.--The _alba
  sus_.--Justifiable murder, and a delicious meal.--Darkies and their
  prayers.--Man proposes; God disposes.--An adventure.--A _ruse de
  guerre_.--Across the Savannah                                        238

                              CHAPTER XXIII.

                         THE PERILS OF AN ESCAPE.

  Alligators.--A detachment of Southern chivalry.--A scare.--Repairs
  neatly executed.--Misery and despair.--Virtue its own
  reward.--Hunger and desperation.--Audacity.--A Confederate
  officer.--"A good Union man."--"Two sights and a jambye."--A narrow
  escape                                                               249

                              CHAPTER XXIV.


  Fugitive slaves.--A rebel planter.--The big Ebenezer.--A sound of
  oars.--A _ruse de guerre_.--Burial of a dead soldier.--A free
  ride.--Groping in the dark.--"Who goes there!"--Recaptured.--_Nil
  desperandum_.--James Brooks.--Contraband of war.--Confederate
  murders.--In the saddle again.--A dash for freedom.--Again
  captured.--Tried as a spy                                            261

                               CHAPTER XXV.

                       FINAL ESCAPE FROM CAPTIVITY.

  In jail.--White trash.--Yankees.--Off to Waynesboro.--No
  rations.--Calling the roll.--Sylvania.--Plan for escape.--Lieutenant
  John W. Wright.--A desperate project.--Escaped!--Giving chase.--The
  pursuers baffled.--Old Richard.--"Pooty hard case, massa."--Rebel
  deserters.--The sound of cannon.--Personating a rebel officer.--Mrs.
  Keyton.--Renewed hope.--A Confederate outpost.--Bloodhounds.--Uncle
  Philip.--March Dasher.--Suspicion disarmed.--"Now I'ze ready,
  gemmen."--Stars and stripes.--Glorious freedom.--Home                274

                               CHAPTER XXVI

                      GLAZIER RE-ENTERS THE SERVICE.

  Glazier's determination to re-enter the army.--Letter to Colonel
  Harhaus.--Testimonial from Colonel Clarence Buel.--Letter from Hon.
  Martin I. Townsend to governor of New York.--Letter from General
  Davies.--Letter from General Kilpatrick.--Application for new
  commission successful.--Home.--The mother fails to recognize her
  son.--Supposed to be dead.--Recognized by his sister
  Marjorie.--Filial and fraternal love.--Reports himself to his
  commanding officer for duty.--Close of the war and of Glazier's
  military career.--Seeks a new object in life.--An idea occurs to
  him.--Becomes an author, and finds a publisher                       295

                              CHAPTER XXVII.

                           CAREER AS AN AUTHOR.

  Glazier in search of a publisher for "Capture, Prison-Pen and
  Escape."--Spends his last dollar.--Lieutenant Richardson a friend
  in need.--Joel Munsell, of Albany, consents to publish.--The author
  solicits subscriptions for his work before publication.--
  Succeeds.--Captain Hampton.--R. H. Ferguson.--Captain F. C.
  Lord.--Publication and sale of first edition.--Great success.--Pays
  his publisher in full.--Still greater successes.--Finally attains
  an enormous sale.--Style of the work.--Extracts.--Opinions of the
  press                                                                304

                             CHAPTER XXVIII.


  Another work by Captain Glazier.--"Three Years in the Federal
  Cavalry."--Daring deeds of the Light Dragoons.--Extracts from the
  work.--Night attack on Falmouth Heights.--Kilpatrick's
  stratagem.--Flight of the enemy.--Capture of Falmouth.--Burial of
  Lieutenant Decker.--Incidents at "Brandy Station."--"Harris Light"
  and "Tenth New York."--"Men of Maine, you must save the
  day!"--Position won.--Some press reviews of the work                 313

                              CHAPTER XXIX.

                         "BATTLES FOR THE UNION."

  "Battles for the Union."--Extracts.--Bull Run.--Brandy
  Station.--Manassas.--Gettysburg.--Pittsburg Landing.--Surrender of
  General Lee.--Opinions of the press.--Philadelphia "North
  American."--Pittsburg "Commercial."--Chicago "Inter-Ocean."--
  Scranton "Republican."--Wilkes-Barre "Record of the
  Times."--Reading "Eagle."--Albany "Evening Journal"                  322

                               CHAPTER XXX.

                         "HEROES OF THREE WARS."

  Literary zeal.--"Heroes of Three Wars."--Extract from preface.--Sale
  of the work.--Extracts: Washington.--Winfield Scott.--Zachary
  Taylor.--Grant.--Sheridan.--Kilpatrick.--Press reviews, a few out
  of many: Boston "Transcript."--Chicago "Inter-Ocean."--Baltimore
  "Sun."--Philadelphia "Times."--Cincinnati "Enquirer."--Worcester
  "Spy."--Pittsburg "Gazette"                                          341

                              CHAPTER XXXI.

                       OCEAN TO OCEAN ON HORSEBACK.

  From Boston to San Francisco.--An unparalleled ride.--Object of the
  journey.--Novel lecture tour.--Captain Frank M. Clark.--"Echoes from
  the Revolution."--Lecture at Tremont Temple.--Captain Theodore L.
  Kelly.--A success.--Proceeds of lecture.--Edward F.
  Rollins.--Extracts from first lecture.--Press notices                364

                              CHAPTER XXXII.

                            BOSTON TO CHICAGO.

  In the saddle.--Bunker Hill.--Arrives in Albany.--Reminiscences.--
  The Soldiers' Home.--Contributions for erecting Soldiers'
  Home.--Reception at Rochester.--Buffalo.--Dunkirk.--Swanville.--
  Cleveland.--Massacre of General Custer.--Monroe.--Lectures for
  Custer Monument.--Father of General Custer.--Detroit.--
  Kalamazoo.--An adventure.--Gives "Paul Revere" a rest.--Decatur.--
  Niles.--Michigan City.--Chicago                                      376

                             CHAPTER XXXIII.

                            CHICAGO TO OMAHA.

  Returns to Michigan City.--Joliet.--Thomas Babcock.--Herbert
  Glazier.--Ottawa.--La Salle.--Colonel Stevens.--Press Notice.--Taken
  for a highwayman.--Milan.--Davenport.--Press Notice.--Iowa
  City.--Des Moines.--Press Notice.--Attacked by prairie
  wolves.--Council Bluffs.--Omaha                                      401

                              CHAPTER XXXIV.


  Captain Glazier as a horseman.--Cheyenne.--Two herders.--Captured
  by Indians.--Torture and death of a herder.--Escape.--Ogden.--
  Letter to Major Hessler.--Kelton.--Terrace.--Wells.--Halleck.--
  Elko.--Palisade.--Argenta.--Battle Mountain.--Golconda.--Humboldt.--
  "The majesty of the law."--Lovelock's.--White Plains.--Desert.--
  Stockton.--SAN FRANCISCO                                             410

                              CHAPTER XXXV.

                         RETURN FROM CALIFORNIA.

  Returns to the East by the "Iron Horse."--Boston _Transcript_ on the
  journey on horseback.--Resumes literary work.--"Peculiarities of
  American Cities."--Preface to book.--A domestic incident.--A worthy
  son.--Claims of parents.--Purchases the Old Homestead, and presents
  it to his father and mother.--Letter to his parents.--The end        431

                              CHAPTER XXXVI.

                          THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER.

  An interval of literary work.--Conception of another expedition.--
  Reflections upon the Old Explorers.--Indian rumors.--Determined to
  find the true source of the Great River.--Starting on the eventful
  journey.--Joined by his brother George and Barrett Channing
  Paine.--Collecting materials for the expedition.--Brainerd the
  first point of departure.--Through the Chippewa country.--Seventy
  miles of government road.--Curiosity its own reward.--Arrival at
  Leech Lake                                                           437

                              CHAPTER XXXVII

                          HOME OF THE CHIPPEWAS.

  An aboriginal red man.--A primitive hotel.--A native of the
  forest.--Leech Lake.--Major Ruffe's arrival.--White Cloud.--Paul
  Beaulieu and his theory about the source of the
  Mississippi.--Che-no-wa-ge-sic.--Studying Indian manners and
  customs.--Dining with Indian royalty.--Chippewa hospitality.--How
  the wife of an Indian Chief entertains.--Souvenir of Flat
  Mouth.--Return of Che-no-wa-ge-sic.--A council held.--An Indian
  speech.--"No White Man has yet seen the head of the Father of
  Waters."--Voyage of exploration.--Launching the canoes               444

                             CHAPTER XXXVIII

                        EXPLORATION AND DISCOVERY.

  Launching the canoes.--Flat Mouth and White Cloud again.--An
  inspiring scene.--Farewell to Leech Lake.--Up the Kabekanka
  River.--Dinner at Lake Benedict.--Difficult navigation.--A peaceful
  haven.--Supper and contentment.--Lake Garfield.--Preparations for
  first portage.--Utter exhaustion.--Encampment for the night.--The
  cavalry column.--Lake George and Lake Paine.--The Naiwa River.--Six
  miles from Itasca.--Camping on the Mississippi watershed.--A
  startling discovery.--Rations giving out.--Ammunition gone.--Arrival
  at Lake Itasca                                                       454

                              CHAPTER XXXIX.


  Short rations.--Empty haversacks and depleted
  cartridge-boxes.--Statement of Chenowagesic.--Captain Glazier's
  diary.--Vivid description.--Coasting Itasca.--Chenowagesic
  puzzled.--The barrier overcome.--Victory! the Infant
  Mississippi.--Enthusiastic desire to see the source.--The goal
  reached.--A beautiful lake.--The fountain-head.--An American the
  first white man to stand by its side.--Schoolcraft.--How he came to
  miss the lake.--Appropriate ceremonies.--Captain Glazier's
  speech.--Naming the lake.--Chenowagesic.--Military honors.--"Three
  cheers for the explorer"                                             465

                               CHAPTER XL.

                          DOWN THE GREAT RIVER.

  Voyage from Source to Sea.--Three thousand miles in an open
  canoe.--"Pioneers of the Mississippi."--A thrilling lecture.--The
  long voyage begun.--Mosquitoes.--Hunger and exhaustion.--The Captain
  kills an otter.--Lakes Bemidji and Winnibegoshish.--An Indian
  missionary.--Wind-bound.--Chenowagesic bids farewell to the
  Captain.--Pokegama Falls.--Grand Rapids.--Meeting the first
  steamboat.--Aitkin.--Great enthusiasm.--The new canoes.--Leaving
  Aitkin.--Arrival at Little Falls.--Escorted in triumph to the
  town.--"Captain Glazier! A speech! A speech!"--Lake Pepin.--An
  appalling storm.--St. Louis.--Southern hospitality.--New
  Orleans.--Arrival at the Gulf of Mexico.--End of voyage              476

                               CHAPTER XLI.


  Captain Glazier returns to New Orleans.--A general ovation.--
  Flattering opinions of the press.--Introduction to the Mayor.--
  Freedom of the City tendered.--Special meeting of the New Orleans
  Academy of Sciences.--Presentation of the "Alice" to the Academy.--
  Captain Glazier's address.--The President's Response.--Resolutions
  of thanks and appreciation passed.--Visit to the Arsenal of the
  Washington Artillery.--Welcome by the Old Guard of the Louisiana
  Tigers.--Pleasant memories of the "Crescent City"                    490

                              CHAPTER XLII.


  Return to St. Louis.--Lecture at Mercantile Library
  Hall.--Brilliant audience.--The Missouri Historical Society
  present.--Eloquent introduction by Judge Todd.--"Pioneers of the
  Mississippi."--Presentation of the "Itasca" to the Historical
  Society.--Remarks of Captain Silas Bent on accepting the
  canoe.--Congratulations of the audience.--Closing scene              496

                              CHAPTER XLIII.

                         GREETINGS OF THE VOYAGE.

  An interesting souvenir.--Greeting at Lake Glazier.--Petition to
  Geographical Societies.--Voice from Aitkin, Gate City of the Upper
  Mississippi.--Tributes from Brainerd.--Mississippi Pyramid.--An old
  friend at La Crosse.--Greetings at St. Louis.--Senator Lamar.--Royal
  welcome at Bayou Tunica.--Sentiment of Port Eads.--Congratulations
  of the officers of the "Margaret."--Greetings from New
  Orleans.--"Fame's triple wreath."--Closing remarks 502

  "SWORD AND PEN" COMMENDATIONS.                                       517

  APPENDIX BY THE PUBLISHERS                                       Appx. i


  Portrait of the Soldier-author                       _Frontispiece_

  Birth-place of Willard Glazier                                      26

  The First Battle                                                    32

  Race with the Schoolmaster                                          44

  Tragic Experience with an Ox-Team                                   80

  The Young Trapper of the Oswegatchie                                90

  Gouverneur Wesleyan Seminary                                       102

  Old State Normal School                                            110

  A Cavalry Column on the March                                      118

  Night Attack on Falmouth Heights                                   126

  Federal Canteens for Confederate Tobacco                           130

  Burial of Captain Walters at Midnight, during Pope's retreat       134

  Sergeant Glazier at Aldie                                          146

  Lieutenant Glazier at Brandy Station                               156

  Cavalry Fight at New Baltimore--Lieutenant Glazier taken Prisoner  160

  Libby Prison                                                       166

  The Hole in the Floor                                              192

  Tunneling--the Narrow Path To Freedom                              198

  Charleston Jail--Charleston, South Carolina                        206

  The Escape From Columbia--Crossing the Dead-Line                   216

  The Escape--Fed by Negroes in a Swamp                              220

  The Pursuit of Knowledge under Difficulties                        224

  Uncle Zeb's Prayer                                                 232

  The Escape--Crossing the Savannah at Midnight                      246

  A Mutual Surprise                                                  258

  Recaptured by a Confederate Outpost                                266

  The Escape and Pursuit                                             270

  The Escape From Sylvania, Georgia--Running the Guard               276

  Interview With Joel Munsell                                        306

  Cavalry Foraging-Party Returning To Camp                           312

  A Cavalry Bivouac                                                  319

  Battle of Gettysburg                                               332

  Captain Glazier at Tremont Temple--Boston                          364

  Boston to Brighton--First Day of The Journey                       376

  A Night among Wolves                                               406

  Captured by Indians, near Skull Rocks, Wyoming                     412

  Pursued by Arrapahoes                                              418

  Riding into the Pacific, near the Cliff House--San Francisco       428

  Map of the Headwaters of the Mississippi                           437

  Captain Glazier Embarking for the Headwaters of the Mississippi    454

  Camp Among the Pines                                               458

  Making a Portage                                                   462

  Map of Lake Glazier                                                464

  Lake Glazier--Source of the Mississippi                            468

  Running Rapids on the Upper Mississippi                            478

                             SWORD AND PEN.



  Lineage of Willard Glazier.--A good stock.--Oliver Glazier at the
    Battle of Bunker Hill.--The home of honest industry.--The Coronet
    of Pembroke.--The "Homestead Farm."--Mehitable Bolton.--Her New
    England home.--Her marriage to Ward Glazier.--The wild "North
    Woods."--The mother of the soldier-author.

Willard Glazier comes of the mixed blood of Saxon and of Celt. We first
hear of his ancestors upon this side of the Atlantic at that period of
our nation's history which intervened between the speck of war at
Lexington and the cloud of war at Bunker Hill.

Massachusetts and the town of Boston had become marked objects of the
displeasure of the British Parliament. Later, in 1775, Ethan Allen had
startled Captain Delaplace by presenting his lank figure at the
captain's bedside and demanding the surrender of Ticonderoga in the name
of the "Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress." In the language of
Daniel Webster, "A spirit pervaded all ranks, not transient, not
boisterous, but deep, solemn, determined."

War on their own soil and at their own doors was indeed a strange work
to the yeomanry of New England; but their consciences were convinced of
its necessity, and when their country called them to her defense they
did not withhold themselves from the perilous responsibility.

The statement of Quincy seemed to pervade all hearts. Said that
distinguished son of genius and patriotism, "Blandishments will not
fascinate us, nor will threats of a halter intimidate; for, under God,
we are determined that, wheresoever, whensoever, and howsoever we shall
be called to make our exit, we will die free men."

At such a time, and among such men, we find enrolled in the ranks of the
patriot army Oliver Glazier, the great-grandfather of the subject of the
present biography.

Oliver's father was John Glazier, a Massachusetts Lancastrian, born in
1739. John Glazier was the son of William Glazier, born about the year
1700, his ancestry being respectively of English and of Scotch
extraction. Oliver himself, however, was born in the town of Lancaster,
in the province or colony of Massachusetts, May twenty-third, 1763.

Hence the blood of Norman, of Saxon and of Celt, that had forgotten the
animosities of race and mingled quietly in the veins of his ancestors,
had become purely American in Oliver, and though but little over
fourteen years of age, we find him doing yeoman service upon the
ramparts of Bunker Hill.

That he performed well his part in the struggle for liberty, is evident
from the fact that he appears upon the rolls as a pensioner, from the
close of that memorable contest until the time of his death.

Mr. Frank Renehan, in a sketch contributed by him to an elaborate work
which was published by the New York and Hartford Publishing Company in
1871, comments as follows upon the coincidence of Oliver Glazier in 1775
and Willard Glazier in 1861--both being at the time of entering service
comparatively boys in age, enlisting for the defense of their country:
"The former, though then but fourteen years of age, participated with
the patriots in the battle of Bunker Hill, and to the last contributed
his young enthusiasm and willing services to the cause he had espoused;
thus giving early testimony of his devotion to the land of his adoption
and of fealty to the principles of popular government involved in the
struggle for American independence. So remarkable an instance of
ancestral fidelity to the interests of civil liberty could not but
exercise a marked influence upon those of the same blood to whom the
tradition was handed down, and here we find our subject, a scion of the
third generation, assisting in 1861 on the battlefields of the South, in
maintenance of the liberty his progenitor had contributed to achieve in
1775 on the battlefields of the North! This is not mentioned as a
singular fact--history is replete with just such coincidences,--but
merely for the purpose of suggesting the moral that, in matters of
patriotism, the son is only consistent when he imitates the example and
emulates the virtues of his sires."

In this eloquent passage occurs an error of fact. Oliver Glazier while
in the patriot army was _not_ fighting for the "land of his adoption."
As we have seen, he was native here and "to the manor born." Indeed, in
the light of historic proof and with the example of men descended from
Washington and Light Horse Harry Lee before us, we are rather inclined
to admire the paragraph as a fine specimen of rhetorical composition
than to admit its accuracy as a deduction in philosophy.

Subsequent to his term of military service--an experience through which
he had safely passed--Oliver Glazier became a resident of West Boylston,
Massachusetts, where he married a Miss Hastings.

The name of Glazier, Lower tells us, is purely English, and is derived
from the title given to the trade. However that may be, those who have
borne it have always expressed a pride in having sprung from the great
mass--the people--and have held with the philosopher of Sunnyside, that
whether "hereditary rank be an illusion or not, hereditary virtue gives
a patent of nobility beyond all the blazonry of the herald's college."
The name of Hastings takes its rise from a nobler source; for Mrs.
Oliver Glazier brought into the family as blue blood as any in all
England. The great family which bears that name in Great Britain can
show quarterings of an earlier date than the battle which gave a kingdom
to William of Normandy. Macaulay says that one branch of their line, in
the fourteenth century, "wore the coronet of Pembroke; that from another
sprang the renowned Lord Chamberlain, the faithful adherent of the White
Rose, whose fate has furnished so striking a theme both to the poet and
historian," and while it is probable that this wife of an American
patriot was many degrees removed from the powerful leaders whose name
she bore, the same blood undoubtedly flowed in her veins that coursed
through theirs.

Oliver, during the many years of a happy married life which terminated
in his death at the ripe age of ninety-seven, became the father of
eight children. His son Jabez left Boylston at an early age, and after
considerable "prospecting" finally married a Miss Sarah Tucker and
settled in the township of Fowler, St. Lawrence County, New York. Out of
their union sprang three sons, George, Ward, and Henry, and four
daughters, Elvira, Martha, Caroline and Lydia. During a visit he made to
his "down East" relations, Ward married a young lady by the name of
Mehitable Bolton, of West Boylston, Massachusetts.

This young lady was a true representative of the New England woman, who
believes that work is the handmaid of religion. She entered a cotton
factory at Worcester when only seventeen years of age, and worked
perseveringly through long years of labor, often walking from her home
in West Boylston to the factory at Worcester, a distance of seven miles.
At the time of her marriage--which occurred when she was
twenty-five--she had accumulated the snug little sum of five hundred
dollars, besides possessing a handsome wardrobe, all of which was the
fruit of her own untiring industry.

If it be true that the mothers of men of mark are always women of strong
and noble characters, then we are not surprised to find in the mother of
Willard Glazier those sterling qualities which made her young life

The early married life of Ward Glazier was passed upon the farm first
cleared and cultivated by his father, and which has since become known
to the neighborhood as the "Old Glazier Homestead." This farm is
situated in the township of Fowler, midway between the small villages of
Little York and Fullersville.

The township is a tract of rugged land, containing only the little
village of Hailesborough, besides those already named. Along its borders
rushes and tumbles a turbulent stream which still retains its original
Indian appellation--the Oswegatchie; a name no doubt conveying to the
ear of its aboriginal sponsors some poetical conceit, just as another
stream in far off Virginia is named the Shenandoah, or "Daughter of the

Those who are at all familiar with the scenery that prevails in what in
other sections of the country are called the great North Woods, and in
their own neighborhood the great South Woods, can readily imagine what
were the geological and scenic peculiarities of Fowler township. Bare,
sterile, famished-looking, as far as horticultural and herbaceous crops
are concerned, yet rich in pasture and abounding in herds--with vast
rocks crested and plumed with rich growths of black balsam, maple, and
spruce timber, and with huge boulders scattered carelessly over its
surface and margining its streams, St. Lawrence County presents to-day
features of savage grandeur as wild and imposing as it did ere the foot
of a trapper had profaned its primeval forests.

Yet its farms and its dwellings are numerous, its villages and towns
possess all the accompaniments of modern civilization, the spires of its
churches indicate that the gentle influences of religion are not
forgotten, and there, as elsewhere, the indomitable will of man has won
from the wilderness a living and a home.

[Illustration: Birth-place Of Willard Glazier.]



  The infant stranger.--A mother's prayers.--"Be just before you are
    generous."--Careful training.--Willard Glazier's first battle.--A
    narrow escape.--Facing the foe.--The happy days of
    childhood.--"The boy is father to the man."

The Glazier Homestead, as we have said, is upon the main road leading
from Little York to Fullerville. It is a substantial and comfortable
farm-house, with no pretension to architectural beauty, but,
nevertheless, is a sightly object in a pleasant landscape. Standing back
two hundred feet from the road, in a grove of gigantic elms, with a
limpid brook of spring water a short distance to the right, and rich
fields of herd grass stretching off rearwards towards the waters of the
Oswegatchie, which hurry along on their journey of forty miles to the
St. Lawrence River, the old house is sure to attract the attention of
the traveller, and to be long remembered as a picture of solid and
substantial comfort.

In this old house, upon the morning of August twenty-second, 1841, to
Ward Glazier and Mehitable, his wife, a son was born who was
subsequently named Willard. The father and mother were by no means
sentimental people--they were certainly not given to seeing the poetical
side of life; they were plain, earnest people, rough hewn out of the
coarse fibre of Puritanism, but the advent of this little child brought
a joy to their hearts that had its softening influence upon the home in
which he was to be reared.

The thoroughness of Ward Glazier's nature, that conscientiousness in
excess which made him radical in all things, was of the _heart_ as well
as of the head, and though not a demonstrative man, the intensity of his
paternal love cropped out in many ways. As to his wife, hers was truly
"mother's love." And what notes are there attuned to sacred music, in
all the broad vocabulary of the English tongue, which gives any idea of
the sentiment that links a woman to her babe, except the three simple
syllables, "mother's love!" Brooding over the tiny stranger, ready to
laugh or cry; exultant with hope and pride, despondent with fear,
quivering with anguish if the "wind of heaven doth visit its cheek too
roughly," and singing hosannas of joy when it lisps the simpler
syllables that she so patiently has taught, covering it with the broad
wing of her measureless affection, and lavishing upon it such "sighs as
perfect joy perplexed for utterance, steals from her sister sorrow,"
there is nothing except God's own illimitable affection for his
creatures, that can rival in depth and strength and comprehensiveness, a
mother's love.

The heart of Ward Glazier's wife, at this time, blossomed in absolutely
rank luxuriance with this feeling, and ran riot in the joy of its
possession; but she determined within herself that it should be no blind
or foolish worship. It grew, therefore, into a sober, careful, provident

Quiet and unobtrusive in manner, her face always wore a look of gravity
befitting one who felt that God had entrusted to her charge a fresh
human soul to mould for good or evil. She fully realized the fact that
her son would grow up with honor or sink down into ignominy just as she
should guide or spoil him in his youth. She quite comprehended the
stubborn truth, that while the father to some extent may shape the
outward career of his son, the mother is responsible for the coloring of
his inner life: and that

    "All we learn of good is learned in youth,
    When passion's heat is pure, when love is truth."

Though of Puritan stock, though reared in the austere faith of John
Knox, there was nothing hard or harsh in this mother's character, and
still less was there anything of the materialist about her. She would
have utterly scouted the doctrine of Cabanis and his school, which held
that the physical was the whole structure of man; that all instincts,
passions, thoughts, emanated from the body; that sensibility is an
effect of the nervous system, that passion is an emanation of the
viscera, that intellect is nothing more than a cerebral secretion, and
"self-consciousness but a general faculty of living matter." She had
drunk inspiration of a different kind from her infancy. In her New
England home the very atmosphere was charged with religious influences.
She was taught, or rather she had learned without a teacher, not only to
see God in the flowers and in the stars, but to recognize his immediate
agency in all things terrestrial.

Night after night, listening to the tremulous tones of her father as he
read a lesson from the sacred page, not only to those of his own blood,
but to his "man-servant, his maid-servant, and the stranger within his
gates," she had felt the presence of a tangible God, and when, at last,
she followed the fortunes of the chosen one of her heart far into the
great North Woods, nature spoke to her from the forest and the cataract,
deepening each early impression and intensifying each early belief,
until she realized as a living fact that the "Lord was ever in his holy
temple" and that his temple was the universe.

To a woman like this every act of life became a matter of conscience,
and the training of her child of course became such to Mrs. Glazier. She
had watched the pitfalls which the "world, the flesh and the
devil"--that trinity of evil--provide for the feet of the unwary, and
she determined that young Willard's steps, if she could prevent it,
should never stray that way.

Her husband took life and its duties much more easily. He was less rigid
in his sense of parental responsibility. While a man of great rectitude
of purpose, he was good-natured to a fault--somewhat improvident,
careless of money, ever ready to extend aid to the needy, and especially
disinclined to the exercise of harshness in his home, even when the
stern element of authority was needed. In short, he was one of those
big-hearted men who are so brimful of the "milk of human kindness" that
the greatest pain they ever feel is the pain they see others suffer. His
plan therefore was, spare the rod even if you _do_ spoil the child.

But--perhaps fortunately for young Willard--Mrs. Glazier held different
views. From his very infancy she endeavored to instil into his nature
habits of truthfulness, industry and thrift. "Never waste and never lie"
was her pet injunction. Her aim was not to make her son a generous, but
a _just_ man. "One hour of justice is worth an eternity of prayer,"
says the Arabian proverb, but Mrs. Glazier, while she exalted justice as
the greatest of the virtues, also believed that in order to make man's
heart its temple, prayer was an absolutely necessary pre-requisite. She
likewise endeavored from the first to habituate the boy's mind to
reflect upon the value of money and the uses of economy. She would have
"coined her blood for drachms" if that would have benefited her husband
or her son. Her savings were not spent upon herself, but in the hard
school of a bitter experience she had learned that money means much more
than dollars and cents--that its possession involves the ability to live
a life of honor, untempted by the sordid solicitations that clamor round
the poor man's door and wring the poor man's heart.

The result was that as soon as he began to comprehend her words, young
Willard had impressed upon his memory maxims eulogizing all who practise
habits of sobriety, industry and frugality, and denunciatory of all who
fail to do so.

His mother never wearied of teaching him such sayings of Dr. Franklin as
these: "Time is money," "Credit is money," "Money begets money," "The
good paymaster is lord of another man's purse," and "The sound of a
man's hammer heard by his creditor at six o'clock in the morning makes
him easy six months longer, while the sound of his voice heard in a
tavern, induces him to send for his money the next day;" "Trifling items
aggregate into large totals," while the text that ruled the house was
that of the Scripture, "If any would not work neither should he eat."

The effect of the constant teaching of such lessons was not however
perceptible in the lad's habits in very early life. He was no model
little boy, no monster of perfection--he was like the boys that we see
around us every day--not one of the marvels we read about. But the seed
was sown in his soul which was destined to quicken into fruit in after

At the early age of four years his mother began to teach him to read and
write, and under her loving tuition he acquired a knowledge of these two
branches of culture quite rapidly.

Just about this time an incident occurred which came near finishing
young Willard's career in a manner as sudden as it would have been

The "Homestead Farm" was at that time pretty well stocked for a place
only containing one hundred and forty acres, and among the cattle was a
sturdy Alderney bull whose reputation for peace and quietness was
unusually good.

On a certain morning, however, early in the spring of the year 1845,
young Master Willard happened to overhear a conversation between two of
the farm hands, in the course of which one of them declared that "old
Blackface was tarin' round mighty lively." This statement interested the
lad to such an extent that he concluded to go and see how this "tarin'
round" was done.

Accordingly, taking advantage of a moment when his mother's attention
was occupied, he started for the barnyard, into which Mr. Bull had been
turned only a few moments before. Now as young Willard was somewhat
smaller than the visitors our bovine friend was in the habit of
receiving, such an unwarrantable intrusion was not to be tolerated for
a moment. Accordingly, no sooner had Willard set his little feet within
the enclosure of the barn-yard than the bull gave a roar of rage, and
catching the boy on the tips of his horns, which fortunately were
buttoned, sent him twenty feet up in the air, preparing to trample him
out of existence when he should come down. Luckily some of the men were
attracted to the scene, who secured his bullship and rescued the child.
Willard was not seriously hurt, and the instant he regained his feet, he
turned round, shook his tiny fist at the now retreating animal and
shouted out in a shrill treble, "When I get to be a big man I'll toss
you in the air!"

Having thus taken the bull by the horns in a literal as well as
figurative sense, the lad began gradually to develop into that terrible
embodiment of unrest--a boy. He exhibited no very marked peculiarities
up to this time to distinguish him from other youths; but just grew into
the conglomerate mass of good, bad and indifferent qualities which go to
make up the ordinary flesh-and-blood boy--brimful of mischief and
impatient of restraint.



  Scotch-Irish Presbyterianism of twenty-five years ago.--The "little
    deacon."--First days at school.--Choosing a wife.--A youthful
    gallant.--A close scholar but a wild lad.--A mother's
    influence.--Ward Glazier a Grahamite.--Young Willard's practical
    jokes.--Anecdote of Crystal Spring.--"That is something like

It must not be supposed that young Willard's home was gloomy and
joyless, because it was presided over by a religious woman. The
Presbyterians of that day and that race were by no means a lugubrious
people. They did not necessarily view their lives as a mere vale of
tears, nor did they think the "night side of nature" the most sacred
one. The Rev. Mr. Morrison, one of their divines, tells us that "the
thoughtless, the grave, the old and the young, alike enjoyed every
species of wit," and though they were "thoughtful, serious men, yet they
never lost an occasion that might promise sport," and he very
pertinently asks, "what other race ever equaled them in getting up
corn-huskings, log-rollings and quiltings?--and what hosts of queer
stories are connected with them!" Fond of fun, there was a grotesque
humor about them, which in its way has, perhaps, never been equaled.

"It was the sternness of the Scotch Covenanter softened by a century's
residence abroad, amid persecution and trial, united to the comic humor
and pathos of the Irish, and then grown wild in the woods among their
own New England mountains."

[Illustration: The First Battle.]

Such was the Scotch-Irish Presbyterianism of that period.

Other cheerful influences were also at work in the two villages that
comprised the town of Fowler. The only house of worship in the town
proper was a Universalist church, and the people were compelled for the
most part, notwithstanding their various creeds, to worship in a common
temple where the asperities of sectarian difference had no existence.

Ward Glazier, at that time, was an adherent of Universalism, while his
wife held evangelical views. But he was ever ready to ride with his wife
and son to the church of her choice at Gouverneur, a distance of six
miles, and returning, chat with them pleasantly of the sermon, the
crops, the markets and the gossip of the town.

In truth, young Willard's early home was a good and pleasant one, and
having learned, under his mother's careful training, to read exceedingly
well, for a boy of his age, by the time he reached his fourth year he
became noted for his inquiring disposition, his quiet manner, and a
quaint habit of making some practical application of the "wise saws"
with which his mother had stored his juvenile mind.

The result was that up to this period of his existence he was an
old-fashioned little fellow, and somehow had acquired the sobriquet of
the "little deacon."

At about five years of age, however, a change took place in the boy.

The bird that flutters and twitters in the parent nest is a very
different thing from the emancipated fledgeling, feeling its newly
acquired power of flight, and soaring far up and out into the woods and
over the fields; and the boy whose experience of life is confined to
the household of his parents, is not less different from the lad who has
gone beyond it into the bustle and turmoil of that epitomized world,--a
public school.

Little Willard, like other youths, was thrown into this new sphere of
action suddenly, and without any adequate idea of what was there
expected of him. The first day passed as all first days at school pass,
not in study, but in looking on and becoming accustomed to the
surroundings, himself in turn being the subject of scrutiny by his
school-mates, as the "new boy." The day did not end, however, without
its incident.

Young Willard as soon as he had made his bow to his new teacher, was
placed upon a bench in close proximity to a pretty little girl of about
his own age. Instead of wasting his time therefore, by studying the less
attractive lineaments of his male companions, he made a careful
comparison between this young lady and the other girls present, the
result of which was that the moment he was permitted to go out during
the customary recess, he bounded off home at the top of his speed, and
with all the exuberance natural to his years announced to his astonished
mother, "Mother! mother! I've picked out my wife!"

Susceptibility to the influence of beauty seems, at this period of
Willard's life, to have been one of his prominent characteristics, for
in addition to exhibiting itself in the manner described, upon another
occasion not long afterwards it broke out as follows:

Every school-boy is aware that there is nothing so humiliating to a male
pupil at a public school as to be called a "girl-boy." Hence, for
trivial offences a boy is often punished by being sandwiched between two
girls, and compelled to remain there until the offence committed has
been sufficiently atoned for. Now young Willard was frequently guilty of
talking during study hours, and his teacher determined to try this
species of punishment upon him with a view of correcting the offensive
habit. As soon, therefore, as he caught him indulging in the prohibited
practice, he was ordered to take his place between two very young ladies
of six and eight summers respectively. To the amazement of his teacher,
young Willard sustained the infliction smilingly, and believing that
this was an indication that the culprit recognized the justice of the
punishment and was practising a commendable patience, he very soon
called him up to his own desk, reasoned with him upon the necessity of
observing the rules of school, and released him with an admonition to be
careful for the future, as a repetition of his offence would certainly
be followed by a repetition of the punishment.

Willard said nothing, but went to his desk, and for the space of five
minutes, perhaps, there was complete silence in the school-room. Then
Mr. ---- was startled to hear a distinct, clear, unmistakable whisper
break in upon his meditations, and became as suddenly struck with the
conviction that it was uttered by Master Willard Glazier.

The countenance of the pedagogue grew dark and stern. Fire shot from his
usually calm eyes, and his expression betokened the fact that this
flagrant act of disobedience was more than he could bear. Indignation
however soon gave place to astonishment, for the little fellow, without
waiting for a single word from his teacher's lips, quietly arose to his
feet, and with the placid expression of an individual performing a
meritorious action, marched across the school-room and deliberately
seated himself in the place he had before occupied between the two
little girls.

"Willard Glazier!" thundered the master, "come here, sir, immediately!"

The boy of course instantly obeyed.

"What do you mean, sir!" exclaimed the teacher, "how dare you conduct
yourself in this disgraceful manner, sir!"

Young Willard looked astonished.

"Why, Mr. ----," said he, "didn't you say that if I whispered to Myron
Sprague again, I should go back and sit between Lizzie and Annie?"

"Yes, sir, I did, and how dare you disobey me in this way?"

"Why, sir," said Willard, "I whispered again to him, because,
sir,--because--I like to sit there, sir."

A light dawned upon the mind of the master, and thereafter he adopted a
less attractive mode of punishing Willard's offences. To some of my
readers such incidents may seem too trivial for record, and no doubt
such days as these _are_ foolish days, but are they not in our memories,
among our very happiest too? As David Copperfield said of such, so say
we, that "of all my time that Time has in his grip, there's none at
which I smile so much, or think of half so kindly."

The usual surroundings of a public school made a great change in the
existence of Willard Glazier, and it is necessary to note its influence,
for in writing the life of a man in its private as well as its public
relations, the chief point to be considered is that which men call
_character_, and how it was formed and fashioned.

If the truth must be told, the "little deacon" had not been a month in
attendance at school before he was up to every imaginable species of
mischief that the fertile brain of a school-boy could conceive--provided
its execution did not involve unequivocal untruth or palpable

No human being, save one, was exempt from his practical jokes. That one
was his mother. In his wildest moods, a glance of reproach from her
would check him. His father, however, enjoyed no such immunity, and in a
kindly way, he delighted in tormenting the good man whenever the
opportunity offered.

For instance, that worthy gentleman, among other idiosyncracies, was a
follower of the so-called Dr. Sylvester Graham, an ex-Presbyterian
clergyman who, in 1832, inaugurated, by a familiar course of lectures, a
new system of dietetics.

The Grahamites, as they were called, held that health is the necessary
result of obeying certain physical laws, and disease the equally certain
result of disobeying them; that all stimulants are pernicious to the
human body, and should be rejected, except in those rare cases where it
becomes necessary to administer one known poison as an antidote to
another equally deadly, in order to neutralize its effects or expel it
from the system. Dr. Graham condemned the use of tea, coffee and spices,
tobacco, opium, and not only alcoholic drinks but even beer and cider,
declaring that all were equally poisonous, and that they only differed
in the degree in which their evil qualities were concentrated or

Ward Glazier held this theory to be the result of a profound philosophy,
and considered the observance of the course of diet he prescribed to be
the only way in which a human being could secure for himself a sound
mind in a sound body. In medicine, Mr. Glazier was an equally rigid
hydropathist. He held that the system of water cure was the only
rational system of healing. One of his individual fancies was to drink
only water obtained from a particular spring. This spring was
beautifully clear and cold, and was situated at the distance of about
sixty rods from the house. It was Willard's allotted duty each day to
fill a large pitcher from its crystal treasures for use at meals. In
order to do this, the brooklet being extremely shallow, and running over
masses of pebbles, he was compelled to kneel and dip it up with a
cup,--an operation requiring both time and patience. Now within a few
yards of this place flowed a small stream or creek considerably deeper
and of larger volume, fed by a number of rills, and as the boy had
conceived the impression that his father only fancied a distinction
where there was really no difference, between the waters of the rival
streams, it occurred to him that he might just as well plunge his
pitcher in the latter, fill it by a single effort, and thus save himself
what he especially disliked,--useless labor. This he did with the
following result:

Ward Glazier was just about sitting down to dinner as Willard entered,
and observing that his son came from the immediate vicinity of the
creek, poured out and tasted a little of the water with evident

"Willard," said he, "you didn't get this from the spring; this is creek
water. Now go right back and get a pitcherful from the spring."

Off started Master Willard to do as he was bidden, but on his way, the
originator of all mischief suggested to his fertile brain the idea of
playing a trick upon his father; so instead of going to the spring, he
simply loitered for a few moments out of sight of such of the family as
might be at the windows,

    "Under an elm whose antique roots peep out
    Upon the brook, that brawls along the wood."

He then quietly sauntered back, with the identical pitcher of water with
which he had come forth.

"There," said he, emphatically, as if he had fulfilled his mission, at
the same time placing the pitcher near his father's plate upon the
table. The good man took it up, examined the contents with a critical
eye, poured out a glassful of the sparkling liquid and drained it to the
last drop.

"Ah," said he, with a sigh expressive of great satisfaction, "_that_ is
something like water! _that_ does a man good!"

This evidence of parental fallibility Master Willard enjoyed hugely, but
it was many years before he ventured to give his father an opportunity
to join in the laugh at his own expense, by telling him of the



  School-days continued.--Boys will be boys.--Cornelius Carter, the
    teacher.--Young Willard's rebellion against
    injustice.--Gum-chewing.--Laughable race through the snow.--The
    tumble into a snow-bank, and what came of it.--The runaway
    caught.--Explanation and reconciliation.--The new master, James
    Nichols.--"Spare the rod and spoil the child."--The age of
    chivalry not gone.--Magnanimity of a school-boy.--Friendship
    between Willard and Henry Abbott.--Good-bye to the "little

Willard Glazier was, by no means, what is termed a bad boy, at school.

It is true he was full of mischief; was the last in for study and the
first out for recreation, but he was neither disobedient nor inattentive
to his lessons. One scholarly element, however, he lacked. The bump
which phrenologists term reverence had small development in him at this
period of his existence. His record always stood high in the matter of
lessons, but low in the matter of conduct. Instances of insubordination
occurred whenever he thought he was treated unfairly, while no boy was
ever more ready to submit to authority when wisely and justly
administered. The following incident is an illustration in point:

One of his teachers bore the name of Cornelius Carter. We have been
unable to ascertain this gentleman's nationality, nor would his history,
if known to us, be pertinent to this work, but we have reason to
believe that he was of Scottish descent, if not actually a native of

    "Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
    Land of the mountain and the flood."

At all events he possessed all the sterling qualities of that
clear-headed people.

A man of fine parts and scholarly attainments, earnestly bent upon doing
his whole duty, vigorous, energetic and thorough in everything, Carter
was just the man to conduct a school with mathematical precision, but at
the same time, his natural irritability was such that the whirlwind was
less fierce than his wrath, when the latter was aroused. About the time
of his advent among the pupils at the Little York public school,
gum-chewing had become an accomplishment among the boys, and though it
was a species of amusement positively forbidden, was carried on
surreptitiously throughout the school.

One dark winter morning just after a heavy fall of snow, it happened
that our friend Willard, though placed upon a bench in the middle of a
row of these gum-chewing juveniles, was himself not chewing, for the
simple reason that he had no gum to chew, and his next neighbors were
niggardly enough to refuse to give him any.

Suddenly the hawk eye of Carter swept down upon the offending group; and
quite assured that if mischief was in progress, young Glazier was in it,
came forward and stretching out his long arms, placed his palms upon the
outermost cheek of each "end boy," and brought the heads of the entire
line together with a shock that made them ring again. Then, without a
word, he caught each urchin in turn by the collar of his coat, and with
one vigorous jerk swung him into the middle of the floor and in his
sternest tones bade him stand there until further orders.

Willard did not at the moment venture to say anything, but stood with
the rest, nursing his wrath. Had he really been at fault he would have
thought nothing of it, but first to have been deprived by circumstances
of the opportunity to break the rules, and then to be punished for a
breach of them, was too much.

He waited, without a word, until the group of delinquents, after
listening to a scathing lecture, were dismissed to their seats. He then
deliberately proceeded to put his books under his arm, preparatory to
making a start for home.

One of the monitors, a large boy, observing this movement, informed Mr.
Carter that Willard Glazier was going to "cut for home," in other words,
to leave school without permission.

The master, upon receiving this intelligence, started down the aisle
towards young Willard; but that restive youth perceiving the movement,
made rapid time for the door, and dashed down-stairs closely pursued by
the now furious pedagogue.

Having some rods the advantage at the start, the boy reached the
exterior of the building first, and struck out in a straight line for

[Illustration: Race With The Schoolmaster.]

The storms which prevailed throughout the entire winter in St. Lawrence
County, had piled up their accumulated snows over the space of ground
that separated the school-house from Willard Glazier's home. Over this
single expanse of deep snow many feet had trodden a hard path, which
alternate melting and freezing had formed into a solid, slippery,
back-bone looking ridge, altogether unsafe for fast travel. Over this
ridge young Willard was now running at the top of his speed. In view of
the probable flogging behind, he took no heed of the perils of the path
before him.

    "So like an arrow, swift he flew
      Shot by an archer strong,
    So did he fly, which brings me to
      The middle of my song."

As for Carter, not a whit daunted by the icy path and the fact that he
was hatless, in slippers, and clad only in a long, loose summer coat
worn in the heated school-room, he gave chase in gallant style, and
while Willard possessed the advantage of an earlier start, the teacher's
long legs compensated for the time gained by his pupil, and made a
pretty even race of it.

On he went therefore, his coat-tails standing out straight like the
forks of a boot-jack, and a red bandanna handkerchief streaming in the
wind from his pocket behind like some fierce piratic flag! On, too, went
Master Willard Glazier, until both--one now nearly upon the heels of the
other--reached a troublesome miniature glacier, when each missed his

Down went the boy's head and up went the master's heels, and the pair
lay together, panting for breath, in the drifts of a contiguous

"Ah, ha!" said Carter, when he had recovered sufficiently to speak, "so
you were going home, were you?"

"Yes," said young Willard, as his head emerged from the drift, looking
like an animated snow-ball, "and I would have reached there, too, if I
hadn't slipped."

This was all that was said, at the time, but as Mr. Carter led his
prisoner back, an explanation took place, in which the lad so strongly
insisted that his escapade arose from a sense of the gross injustice
done him, that Carter's own sense of right was touched, and after
admonishing the boy to take a different mode of redressing his
grievances in the future, he agreed to forego the flogging and let
Master Willard finish the remainder of the session in the customary way.

After this occurrence, Willard got along very well under the tuition of
Mr. Carter, and it was not until some years later, when a gentleman by
the name of Nichols took charge of the school, that anything transpired
worthy of note.

James Nichols was a devout believer in Solomon's maxim that to spare the
rod is to spoil the child. The whip was his arbiter in all differences
which arose between his pupils and himself. He never paused, as Mr.
Montieth has lately done, to consider that at least two-thirds of the
offences for which children are flogged at school are "crimes for which
they are in nowise responsible," and "when stripped of the color given
to them by senseless and unmeaning rules, they are simply the crimes of
being a boy and being a girl," and are "incited by bad air, cold feet,
overwork and long confinement; crimes which the parents of these same
children are accustomed to excuse in themselves, when they sit in
church, by the dulness of the sermon, or other circumstances that offend
against nature and which they sometimes soothe with fennel or hartshorn,
or change of position, and not unseldom with sleep." In school
discipline Mr. Nichols was a pure materialist. He never realized
Cayley's profound lesson that "education is not the mere storing a
youthful memory with a bundle of facts which it neither digests nor
assimilates," but that it is the formation and training of a mind. Under
his _régime_ the rod ruled everything. Even the offence of whispering
was punished by the lash.

Upon one occasion, when young Willard was seated between two
brothers--Henry and Brayton Abbott by name--engaged in solving Algebraic
problems, a whispered inquiry, regarding the lesson, passed from one to
the other.

Mr. Nichols at the moment happened to glance towards them, and
conjectured, by the movement of Willard's lips, that he was violating
the rule against whispering.

"Willard Glazier!" said he, angrily, "come out here, sir!"

The boy obeyed.

"Now then, Willard," said Mr. Nichols, "I presume you understand the
rules of this school?"

"I think I do, sir."

"Very well, then you know that whispering during the hours of study is a
breach of its discipline, and that I must punish you."

Willard said nothing.

"Have you a knife, sir?" pursued the teacher.

"No, sir," replied the boy, not quite certain whether the knife was
wanted for the purpose of scalping him, or merely with a view of
amputating the unruly member which had been the instrument of offence.
"Well, take this one," said Nichols, handing him a five-bladed
pocket-knife, with the large blade open, "go out and cut me a good stout

The boy by no means relished the prospect this mission suggested, but
seeing no means of escape, he went to a grove in the neighborhood and
cut a stick whose dimensions resembled a young tree--shrewdly suspecting
that Nichols would never venture to use a club of such size.

With this stick he stalked majestically back to the school-room. As he
entered, he saw Henry Abbott standing up in front of the teacher's desk,
and heard him utter these words:

"It is not fair, Mr. Nichols, to flog Willard alone. It was my fault,
sir. I beckoned to Brayton and whispered first. That is what started it.
You should whip me, too, sir."

The master, as we have said, was stern and uncompromising, but his
nature was not entirely devoid of feeling, and as he heard the brave
admission, his eye lighted up with sudden softness.

"Go back to your seats, boys," said he, "I will not flog either of you
to-day. Lads that are brave enough to face the punishment of one offence
as you have done, can, I hope, be trusted not to soon commit another."

The incident was one that raised the tone of the whole school, and it
gave rise to a warm feeling of admiration in Willard Glazier's breast
for Henry Abbott which did Willard good, and made the two youths firm

Thus the years sped on--dotted with little incidents that seem too
trivial to relate, and yet each one of which had _some_ effect upon the
future life and character of young Willard. He had become a pretty wild
boy by this time, and the cognomen of the "little deacon" was dropped
without ceremony.

Although he was marked high for scholarly attainment, he received many a
bad mark for violating the rules of school.

This state of affairs existed until the boy had reached the age of
eleven years, when he was brought into contact with two diametrically
opposite influences, one of which was calculated to _make_ and the other
to mar his future character and fortunes.



  Henry Glazier.--A singular character.--"Kaw-shaw-gan-ce" and
    "Quaw-taw-pee-ah."--Tom Lolar and Henry Glazier.--Attractive
    show-bills.--Billy Muldoon and his trombone.--Behind the
    scenes.--"Sound your G!"--The mysterious musician.--What happened
    to Billy.--"May the divil fly away wid ye!"

At this time there resided in the paternal homestead a younger brother
of Ward Glazier named Henry, who was Willard's senior by about eleven
years, and, physically speaking, was a splendid specimen of masculine
development. Like his brothers Ward and George, he stood six feet in his
stockings, and literally looked down on his fellows.

He had conceived a great liking for his nephew Willard, and on many a
hunting excursion in the Great North Woods, the boy was his only
companion. This affection, however, was not unmingled with some contempt
for the lad's diminutive stature.

Upon one occasion, during a visit to West Boylston, he made it his
business to search out the relatives of Willard's mother, in order to
ascertain what sort of stock she came from. On returning home, this son
of Anak exclaimed, with a dejected air:

"Mother, I'll be hanged if I ain't discouraged! Our Willard will always
be a little runt. His mother's folks ain't bigger'n a pinch of snuff!"

How far the prediction has been verified any one who has seen the
compact, sinewy form of the young soldier will understand.

Henry Glazier reveled in everything sensational. His ideal of heaven was
a succession of tableaux in which he was to play the principal part.

At one time he joined another eccentric character named Tom Lolar, an
Indian of the Seneca tribe, whose lands in the long ago of Indian
history bordered the blue waters of Lake Seneca in central New York.
This peculiar pair proceeded to electrify certain rural communities in
their immediate neighborhood with huge posters, announcing that on a
given night:



                     THE RED WILD CAT,


        _Great Chief of the Walaitipu Indians,_

  Now traveling for the benefit of his tribe, proposes to exhibit
                to an enlightened public the

              Trophies won by his Braves,

    In their battles with other Ferocious Tribes beyond the Rocky
        Mountains, and the Great Chief will likewise give an
                     exhibition of the

                 WAR DANCES OF HIS NATION.

Accordingly upon the night in question Tom Lolar as "_Kaw-shaw-gan-ce_,"
and Henry Glazier as ticket agent, reaped such an excellent harvest that
the latter concluded to start a "live Indian" upon his own account.

This he accordingly did, dubbing the prodigy of his creation
"Quaw-taw-pee-ah," or the "Red Wild Cat."

Whether this venture was successful or not we have failed to learn, but
there is one story connected with it which is too good to be lost,
though it lacks satisfactory evidence of authenticity.

The legend runs that our enterprising manager went three miles away and
hunted up a genuine old native of Erin who had deserted from the British
army, where he held some position in one of the military bands attached
to a regiment stationed in Canada. With true Irish instinct this exile
of Erin had brought his trombone across the border, and "the
enterprising manager"--to use the language of the bills--"secured in him
the services of an eminent musician, late of Her Majesty's Royal Band,"
to discourse sweet music during the entire performance. This and other
attractive announcements drew a goodly crowd of lads and lasses from far
and near to the place appointed, and when the doors--otherwise
tent-flaps--were open, the assemblage marched in to the entrancing
strains of the trombone, as played by "Professor Muldoonati" _alias_
Billy Muldoon.

Everything passed off well. "Quaw-taw-pee-ah" presented to the _elite_
of the locality a type of the aboriginal American, which at least
possessed the merit of originality. If the audience expected to be
astonished they were not disappointed; for such an Indian as they then
beheld no living eye had ever looked upon before.

Mr. Catlin would have admitted that this noble red man was alien to any
of his tribes, and even Cooper's Leather-Stocking would have conceded
that his was a new revelation of savage humanity. It is barely possible
that Buffalo Bill may have dreamed of something like him, and it is not
impossible that the late Edwin Forrest may have actually been on
speaking terms with his brother, but outside of these two gentlemen, we
do not believe that human imagination ever conceived a child of the
forest in any respect resembling "Quaw-taw-pee-ah" on his opening night.

It did seem a little singular to combine the convivial music of "St.
Patrick's day in the morning" with such diabolical grimaces and gestures
as those which the Great Chief used in the pantomimic expression of his
sentiments. But the people were prepared for originality, and they had
it. At any rate the performance received their loud applause. At last,
however, it was over: the successive scenes of the programme had come
and gone--the war dances were finished, the curtain had fallen on the
last act, and Billy Muldoon's trombone had subsided into silence. But if
the performance within was wild, it was nothing to the wild night
without. It was the seventeenth of March, and the snow had been steadily
falling since morning, shrouding the hills and all the surrounding
country with a mantle as white and cold as a winding sheet.

The wind had increased since nightfall, and by the time
"Quaw-taw-pee-ah" had washed his face of its red lead, and Mr. Muldoon
had been paid his share of the proceeds, it was blowing "great guns," as
the sailors say. Out into such a night as this the audience dispersed:
but the lights of home shone through the blinding storm near at hand,
and buffeting with the fierce gusts of whirling snow and wind was only
brave sport for them. Not so, however, with Mr. Billy Muldoon. _His_
home was three miles away, and though the prospect without was anything
but pleasant, he prepared to face it like a man. His only precaution was
to see that an old army canteen was filled afresh with the best whiskey
the neighborhood afforded. Then he started on his homeward journey.

At first it was pretty hard work. The snow had drifted into heaps in
some places, and rose almost to the little man's waist. Still he
struggled bravely on, only stopping now and then to celebrate the
anniversary of Ireland's Patron Saint by taking a long pull and a strong
pull at the canteen.

For a half-hour or more he made but slow progress through the pitiless,
pelting storm, and he heartily cursed his folly in attempting the task
of coming home at all, on such a night as this. But a change came o'er
the spirit of his dream. As the contents of the canteen had diminished,
Billy's spirits had risen in exact proportion, his heart had grown
strong and he began to despise the difficulties in his way. In fact he
was as happy as a prince, and rather liked the idea of facing the snow
drifts and fighting the wind. So on he went. What seemed strange to
Billy was the fact that there seemed to be so much sameness in the
surrounding features of the landscape--or so much of it as he could
discover, during the momentary lulls of the storm. He therefore stopped
short, steadied himself for a moment, and took another drink; which
proceeding seemed to clear up his mind on the puzzled subject, for
muttering that it was "all roight," he once more started forward.

Another half-hour passed and still another, and yet Billy found the road
open before him, with no sign of his own humble little home. He began to
grow very tired and considerably muddled, and paused at length to
consider the situation.

In front of him he perceived something so like the lane that led to his
own shanty that he joyfully proceeded, and at length reached what he
believed to be a back door that he had directed his wife to leave "on
the latch" for his return.

What surprised him was that he could see no light within. He was,
however, sufficiently aware of the fact that he had taken more of "the
crayther" than his good woman would approve of, so not caring to wake
her up, he stole to the door and tried to lift the latch. It was
fastened. Everything within was dark as Erebus, and not a sound could be
heard except the low breathing of what he supposed to be his sleeping
children. This rather excited Billy's wrath. He had been particular in
his injunction to leave the door unbolted, and it was hard to be kept
out in the storm on such a night as this. He called out--at first in a
whisper, then louder and louder--to Kathleen to let him in. There was no
response. Yet he certainly heard the movement of feet within. What could
it mean? The little man finally swore a big oath and fiercely demanded
admittance; but still there came no reply. He then essayed to force the
door, and to his utter amazement the upper part of it gave way, opening
out like a window-shutter, while the lower part remained firm. The
musician therefore climbed up, and seating himself on the edge of the
door, peered in. He could see nothing but a black void. To use his own
figure of speech, "yez might as well hunt for Gineral Washington's will
down a black dog's throat, as attimpt to see the nose on yer face in

He was nearly paralyzed with astonishment. Suddenly a bright thought
struck him. He raised his trombone to his lips, and in spite of the
mingled emotions that agitated his breast, blew upon it a blast loud
enough to have waked the dead.

Imagine therefore how his previous astonishment was deepened into almost
idiotic wonder when he heard a reply from what appeared to be a trombone
of more gigantic power than his own. "Bur-r-r!" went Mr. Muldoon's

"Boo-o-o!" replied the invisible respondent.

Billy was amazed. Billy was awe-stricken. But the instinct of the
musician rose above all other emotions.

"Sound your G!" said Billy.

"Boo-o-o!" was the answer in a deeper base than before.

"Yer out o' tune, ye domned old fool!" says Billy.

"Boo-o-o!" came the response once more.

"Sound yer G, and take that, ye murtherin spalpeen!" said the now
thoroughly exasperated musician, dashing his own instrument in the
direction of his invisible rival.

Just then poor Billy saw a ferocious-looking pair of eyes glaring at
him, and before he had time to add another word, some huge object rushed
towards him, struck him a determined blow, and lifting him off his perch
sent him into the middle of the road.

The fact is, Billy had wandered very much out of his way, and had
mistaken Ward Glazier's barn for his own dwelling. The supposed rival
musician was our old acquaintance, "Black-face," the Bull.

Billy picked himself up from the snow, and, regardless of his bruised
body and aching bones, steadied himself for a last shot at the enemy.
The little man looked in the direction where he thought his adversary
ought to be, and though he could see nothing through the darkness and
storm, he shouted out, in accents of blended dignity and contempt:

"May the divil fly away wid ye! Ye may be the sthronger of the two, but,
be jabers, yer no museecian!"

How he eventually got home and what were his sentiments regarding the
adventure with which he had met, are facts that do not concern this
history; but it is quite probable that he wondered as we have often
done, that St. Patrick, while engaged in the laudable task of expelling
snakes from the soil of the Emerald Isle, did not also provide that such
reptiles should keep out of the boots of her sons.



  The big uncle and the little nephew.--Exchange of ideas between the
    eccentric Henry Glazier and young Willard.--Inseparable
    companions.--Willard's early reading.--Favorite
    authors.--Hero-worship of the first Napoleon and Charles XII. of
    Sweden.--The genius of good and of evil.--Allen Wight.--A born
    teacher.--Reverses of fortune.--The shadow on the
    home.--Willard's resolve to seek his fortune and what came of
    it.--The sleep under the trees.--The prodigal's return.--"All's
    well that ends well."

Between Henry Glazier and young Willard a singular friendship had sprung
up. The great, six-foot uncle and the quaint, old-fashioned boy were
much together.

In the woods and fields, at junketings and corn-huskings, the pair were
often seen in grave converse, and while Willard was ever eager to hear
the stories of his uncle's mad adventures and queer scrapes, Henry
Glazier, in turn, would listen with a species of reverent wonder to the
boy's recital of striking passages of history or of fiction which he had
picked up in the course of a varied and desultory reading--a taste for
which was developed even at that early age. The volumes to which he had
access were few in number, but he had read their pages again and again,
and the subjects of which they treated were, for the most part, of just
such a character as were calculated to attract the attention of a youth
of action rather than of thought.

Among them were "Rollin's Ancient History," "Robinson Crusoe," "The
Arabian Nights," "Life of Charles XII. of Sweden," "Kossuth and his
Generals," and "Napoleon and his Marshals,"--everything relating to the
career of the great Corsican being devoured with the greatest avidity.

He began, of course, by reading the descriptions of battles. All boys do
so. But gradually his interest in such exciting events extended to the
actors in them, and again to the causes that led to them, and at length
the books were read from the preface to the end.

The conversations between the uncle and nephew were far from exercising
a good influence over the boy. If Willard related some daring deed from
the life of Charles XII. or of the great Napoleon--his own especial
hero--his uncle Henry would match it with some equally striking, if less
civilized adventure in the forest or upon the river, in which he or some
of his whilom associates had played the principal part. All this was, to
a certain extent, calculated to unsettle the lad's mind for the common,
routine duties of a useful existence. Fortunately, however, at about the
time that it began to produce that effect, another opposite and more
powerful influence was brought to bear upon him which changed the
current of his ambition, and turned his attention to matters less
exciting in their character, but destined to exert a much greater
influence over his future life. I allude to his association with his
teacher, Allen Wight.

The small, plain brick school-house at Little York stands there, we
believe, to-day as it did then in all its native and naked ugliness.
Such a structure, looking at it aesthetically, is not a cheerful sight
to the lover of learning, but at that period it was under the mastership
of a mind of no ordinary calibre. From all that we can learn of him,
Allen Wight was that remarkable character--a born educator. He did not
believe his duty was performed by merely drilling his pupils,
parrot-like, to repeat other men's sentiments. He knew that the minds of
mortals, particularly if young and fresh, are as diverse in their
springs of action as the laws of the universe, and he conceived it to be
his duty to study the individual characteristics of each scholar under
his charge, as he would have familiarized himself with the notes of a
piece of music before he attempted to play it. His method was that of
the Jesuit, carried out in a Protestant fashion. In young Glazier he
took especial interest. He liked the sturdy little fellow who, though
full of youthful vim, could yet sit down and discuss the difference
between a Macedonian phalanx as described by Rollin and a _corps
d'armée_ as manoeuvred by Soult, and he determined if possible--to use
his own phraseology--"to make a man of him."

His first step was to lead the boy's mind up to a habit of reasoning
upon the present and the past, and upon the every day world of practical
realities with which he had to do. When this habit had become
sufficiently matured in him, the wise teacher told him the story of his
own life, with its struggles, its disappointments and its triumphs,
thinking thus to stimulate his favorite pupil to greater efforts and
better achievements in the path of knowledge. He talked to young Willard
as he would have talked to a man, yet with all the gentleness of manner
he would have used in addressing a woman. Every incentive which he could
place before the boy, every appeal to both heart and brain which he
could make, Allen Wight used--as the mechanic would use the lever--to
bring out all that was noblest and best in him--to develop all the
sleeping possibilities of his young nature.

Ward Glazier had not been as prosperous in his worldly affairs as his
patriotism and honesty deserved, and things at the old "Homestead"
looked rather gloomy. Poverty is a fearful darkener of child-life, and
while its shadow rarely fell on Willard, who was always at school or
roving the woods and fields with his uncle Henry, to his sisters and
brothers it frequently presented its dark face and whispered unpleasant
prophesies of the future.

Of course it was not that abject kind of poverty which stints the supply
of food and fire in a house. It did not still the prattle of the
children, or banish childish mirth from the dwelling. It was not the
wolf at the door, but the wolf in the dim possible distance when the
poor father, bent with age, would perhaps be unable to keep his little
flock together. But the boy had never thought of such a possible time.
_His_ visions of the future were of sights to be seen in the great
world--of a time when he would be large enough and free enough to
accompany his uncle Henry upon some of his wild adventures among
civilized or savage races, and of the delights of unlimited books to be
read upon subjects most congenial to his mind. He therefore made no
allowance for his father's gloomy face and short words, and often
thought him stern when he was only sad.

A slight incident, however, changed all this and compelled him to face
life not as a dream but as a reality. One evening Willard's father came
home very tired and somewhat dispirited by some adverse circumstances,
such as occur in every man's business life at times, and of course he
was not in the most pleasant frame of mind to encounter the petty
annoyances of a household. Something that Willard said or did, capped
the climax of his irritability and he called the boy a fool. It was a
very unusual thing for Ward Glazier to speak with even apparent
harshness to his children, and the lad felt it, therefore, all the more
keenly. He became very thoughtful and silent, and crept off to bed
earlier than usual only to lie awake most of the night brooding over the
insult, and debating within himself what to do in order to vindicate his
outraged dignity. The conclusion at which he finally arrived was that
when the morning came, he would run away from home and seek his fortune
in the great world. The fact is he had been reading "Robinson Crusoe"
but a day or two previous, and that charming story had made a great
impression on his mind. Under its weird influence his vivid imagination
conjured up possible scenes of adventure in which he was to emulate the
courage and sagacity of that celebrated truant, and eventually come
home, as Robinson did, a man full of knowledge with which to astonish
the family, and with wealth to lavish on brothers and sisters, and make
comfortable the declining years of his parents. "_Then_ his father would
not think him a fool," said this youthful logician to himself. His
active little brain was too highly stimulated by his great resolve to
permit much sleep that night, and his bosom swelled proudly as he
thought how bravely he would encounter misfortune and face danger for
the sake of the glorious future he saw in the distance. His boyish heart
thrilled strangely within him as he pictured to himself how full of
amazement his brothers and sisters would be, when they found he had gone
forth all alone to seek his fortune. Even the little sleep, therefore,
that he obtained, was but a dreamy repetition of his waking thoughts,
and when the first gray streak of dawn told of the coming day, the boy
arose and quietly dressing himself for his journey, emerged from the
house, passed down the avenue under the broad elms and struck the
highway. He shivered a little as the chill air of morning touched his
cheek, and his ambitious dream did not look quite so glowing and
glorious as it had done when snugly ensconced in his comfortable bed,
but still he had a consciousness that he was doing something very manly,
and he walked on with a firm step and determined heart.

It is true he had no very definite idea of _where_ he was going,--he
only thought of doing great things and seeing strange sights. His whole
plan of travel was comprehended in the one idea of _going out into the
world_. That was all. Accordingly the youth trudged on for miles without
weariness,--for his head was still thronged with thick coming fancies of
the possible future that lay before him, and for some time the exulting
sense of freedom that ever accompanies disenthralment of any kind,
thrilled his whole being with a firm resolution to accomplish great

At the expiration of a few hours, however, the fatigue involved in so
unusual a tramp before breakfast, began to tell upon him, and as he
mechanically slackened his pace, his reflections assumed a less jubilant
and less satisfactory character. He had walked nearly fourteen miles and
was already footsore. "Going out into the world," began to seem not
quite so enchanting a proceeding as it had appeared to be at starting.
For the first time since the idea of "seeking his fortune" had entered
his mind, he asked himself _where_ he was to seek it.

The reply to this inquiry was not easy. Meanwhile the sun had mounted
high up in the heavens and was shining brightly, the birds were singing
their matin songs, and in the roadside pastures the cattle were quietly
grazing. It was a peaceful, pastoral scene, but its peace did not enter
the heart of the wanderer. Somehow the world did not appear half so
attractive in his eyes as it had looked when he stole forth from his
father's gate in the cold gray of the morning twilight. His step,
therefore, was less elastic and his bearing less assured now than then,
and at length he sat down under a large beech-tree by the roadside, to
reflect upon the situation. He began to feel very weary, and the sudden
transition from action to repose induced a drowsiness that in a few
minutes overcame his waking sense and launched him into the sea of
forgetfulness. The young head sank lower and lower on his breast, and
finally, sleep ... "that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care,"...
"sore labor's bath, balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course,"
came to him unawares, and for some hours he was totally oblivious of all

It was a dreamless sleep, and noon had come when he awoke. For a few
moments he was unable to recall where he was or how he had come there,
but in a very short time the recollection of everything that had
happened to him since the evening before swept over his mind like a
flood. Every circumstance now, however, was viewed in a far different
light. Somehow, the provocation which had sent him into the wide world
to seek his fortune did not seem half so great as it had seemed only the
night before. The example of De Foe's hero was not so completely
alluring, and a portion of that history which the evening previous he
had not deemed worthy of a thought, now rose vividly before him. He
seemed to read again these words:

"My father, a grave, wise man, gave me serious and excellent counsel
against what he saw was my design. He told me it was for men of
desperate fortunes on the one hand, or of aspiring superior fortunes on
the other, who went abroad upon adventures, to rise by enterprise and
make themselves famous in undertakings of a nature out of the common
road: that these things were all either too far above me, or too far
below me: that mine was the middle state or what might be called the
upper station of humble life, which he had found by long experience was
the best state in the world, the most suited to human happiness. The
wise man gave his testimony to this when he prayed to have 'neither
poverty nor riches.'" And then came the thought that all that Robinson
ever gained in fame or fortune, failed to still the quiet but terrible
whisper of his conscience whenever he thought of those he had abandoned
for a roving life. So intently did he think upon these things, he seemed
actually to behold the wanderer upon his sea-girt island with lawless
Will Atkins and the gentle French priest beside him, while the words of
the repentant mutineer seemed to be hissed into his ear:--"No, sir, I
did not cut his throat, but I cut the throat of all his comforts. I
shortened his days and I broke his heart by the most ungrateful,
unnatural return, for the most tender and affectionate treatment that
father ever gave or child could receive." Young Willard could not but
remember that _his_ parents had been most kind and tender, that _his_
father had lavished upon him during all the years of his childhood a
most prodigal wealth of affection: and the one harsh epithet he had
received seemed as nothing among the multitude of kind and loving words
that had never been withheld from him. His heart told him that something
deeper than any ordinary woe would darken his mother's quiet face when
she beheld his empty chair and realized that he had gone, perhaps never
to return, without one farewell word to her. Such reflections as these,
that he wondered had not occurred to him before, now took possession of
his mind and, impelled by their influence, he arose and slowly started
back towards home. As he came within sight of the old place he saw his
father in the distance reaping, and the sight filled him with gladness.

    "From the top of the road, through the gap was seen
       Down a zigzag road cut up by rills,
    The velvet valley cradled between
       Dark double ridges of 'elm' clad hills;
    And just beyond, on the sunniest slope,
       With its windows aglint in the sunset warm,
    In the spot where he first knew life and hope,
       Was the dear old house of the 'Homestead' farm."

But he was not just then in a frame of mind to meet the parental eye,
and he therefore skirted round a piece of woods which concealed him from
his father's view and reaching the door unobserved, crept into the

Though his absence had been discovered, and its cause, if not known, at
least shrewdly suspected, his father and mother in their reception of
him very wisely ignored all knowledge of his truancy and treated the
young prodigal with such unusual marks of kindness and indulgence, that
he was completely melted, and felt, with keen remorse, that he had been
upon the eve of becoming a most wretched ingrate. The lesson of the
experiment was not lost upon him, and he never again tried the foolish



  Out of boyhood.--Days of adolescence.--True family pride.--Schemes
    for the future.--Willard as a temperance advocate.--Watering his
    grandfather's whiskey.--The pump behind the hill. The sleigh-ride
    by night.--The "shakedown" at Edwards.--Intoxicated by tobacco
    fumes.--The return ride.--Landed in a snow-bank.--Good-bye horses
    and sleigh!--Plodding through the snow.

Ward Glazier--putting his theories to the test of practice--believed it
best to allow the error of his son to work out its own punishment,
without adding a word to indicate that he knew it had been committed.
The wisdom of such reticence is not often recognized by parents placed
in similar circumstances, but it would perhaps be better for the
children if it were. At the same time the father thought it expedient to
apprise Allen Wight of the matter. That gentleman readily acquiescing in
his plans, saw in the recoil which would probably succeed such an
escapade in the mind of a sensitive and generous boy, the opportunity he
sought to arouse him to a sense of the duties that lay before him in his
future career, in living a useful and worthy life.

One afternoon, therefore, when they were enjoying a quiet chat after
school hours, he managed--without the slightest allusion to the runaway
freak--to turn the conversation to the subject of "self-made men." Not,
be it understood, that species of fungi who only love their maker,
because being

    "_Self_-made, _self_-trained, _self_-satisfied,"

they are

    "Themselves their only daily boast and pride."

Not the Randall Leslies, or the Peter Firkins of the world or that other

                "Score of Peter Funks,
    Of the mock-mining stamp, who deal in chunks
    Of confidence, ores and metals as examples
    And sell the bowels of the earth by samples;"

but that higher race who have achieved noble things despite all the
drawbacks of poverty and friendlessness.

He spoke of Clive, the Shropshire farmer's son, who, according to the
greatest of modern historians, equalled Lucullus in war and Tergot in
peace; that reformer who out of the discordant elements of an Indian
oligarchy consolidated and perfected an empire, one of the most splendid
the world contains.

He spoke, too, of that other Indian ruler who as he lay dreaming a boy's
day-dream one holiday, upon the bank of a stream that flowed through
Daylesford Manor--the manor which one ancestor's sword had won and
another ancestor's folly had lost--who formed a scheme of life that
culminated in the extension of the same empire beyond all previous
expectation, and in linking his own name so inseparably with the story
of his country, that no man can write the history of England without
writing the life of Warren Hastings.

Other examples of great ends achieved with little means, by men in our
own land, were talked over.

Franklin the _boy_, walking up Market street, Philadelphia, a
penny-roll under each arm and munching a third, under the laughing
observation of Miss Read, his future wife--and Franklin the sage and
Minister, representing his government at the most elegant court in
Europe, were contrasted for his edification. Various modern instances
were added, Mr. Wight keeping in view Pope's axiom that

    "Men must be taught as if you taught them not,
    And things unknown proposed as things forgot."

When the boy's mind had been sufficiently awakened he followed the
advice of the old adage to "strike while the iron is hot," and impressed
upon him the fact that being the eldest son he was naturally the prop of
his house; nor did he ignore the truth, unpalatable as it might be, that
Willard could hope for no material aid from the hands of his parents. He
must carve his own way. He must build even the ladder up which he was to
climb. Others had done so--why not he? And then he told him that the way
to do it successfully was to acquire knowledge and cultivate wisdom; for

    "Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one,
    Have, oft times, no connection.
    Knowledge dwells in the thoughts of other men,
    Wisdom in minds attentive to their own."

Working upon what he rightly conjectured to be the boy's newly awakened
sense of the kindness of his father, he spoke of that good man's
pecuniary reverses, and professed his faith in Willard as the future
regenerator of the fallen fortunes of Ward Glazier's family.

The boy's generous enthusiasm was awakened at once. His ordinary school
tasks and home duties no longer looked commonplace, and were no longer
distasteful to him. They were but incidents in a general plan of
usefulness, and he performed them with an air of cheerfulness that
pleased his teacher and delighted his parents. He volunteered to help
his father in the fields, and while but a boy in years, he yet performed
the work of a man. In fact, he had discovered that every duty of life
has its heroic side, and needs only the impulse of high and noble
motives to be invested with dignity and interest.

Meanwhile, he did not neglect his studies. The idea of intellectual
culture was no longer a mere abstraction. Books were not only what they
always had been--reservoirs of knowledge, alluring to his imagination,
and fascinating to his mind--but they were now looked upon as levers,
with which he was to move the world. Knowledge _now_ meant the means
whereby, in the days to come, he was to acquire the power to make his
father and mother comfortable for the balance of their lives; and to
surround his sisters with those luxuries which go far towards making
existence a thing of grace and refinement. When, therefore, he worked
during the warm days of summer, aiding his father in the care of the
farm, the summer evenings found him poring earnestly over his
books--practical and useful ones now--and the harvest once gathered, he
was back again in his old place at school, where he studied steadily and
hard. His teacher, Allen Wight, looked on and was satisfied. And yet
Willard was a wild boy--as wild as any in the school. His relish for fun
and frolic was as keen as ever, but it was now subordinated to his
judgment. His practical jokes were fewer, and the peculiarities of his
father no longer furnished him with a subject for their perpetration.
Now and then, however, the old exuberance of mischief _would_ break out,
and upon one occasion his grandfather became its victim.

As that mosaic styled "character" is nothing more than an aggregate of
just such trivial things, we trust our readers will pardon us if we
relate the incident in point.

When Willard was over nine years of age, his father moved from the Old
Homestead and purchased a place named the Goodrich Farm, where he opened
a country store. The venture proved to be an unfortunate one, and, after
a series of pecuniary vicissitudes, he left it, and, at the period to
which we refer, was the occupant of a farm known in that section as the
Davis Place.

This farm and the Glazier Homestead occupied positions upon opposite
sides of the same public road--the former being one mile nearer the town
of Fullersville.

Meantime, the Homestead was occupied and cultivated by Jabez Glazier,
the grandfather of Willard, and upon certain occasions the boy was sent
over to stay for a few days at that place, to help the old gentleman in
many little ways connected with its cultivation.

At that time and in that locality it was customary during the haying
season to deal out to the men employed stated rations of whiskey every
day. A bottle was filled for each one, and, being placed by the
recipient in a swathe of the newly-cut grass, frequent visits were made
to the spot and frequent libations indulged in. Ward Glazier and his
wife being determinedly opposed to the use of ardent spirits under any
circumstances whatever, the custom was dispensed with at the Davis
Place; but at the Old Homestead, under the rule of Jabez Glazier, the
time-honored usage was staunchly maintained. Young Willard had been so
deeply inoculated with his parents' opinions on this subject, that he
had delivered an address before the society of "Sons of Temperance" at
Fullerville even at that early age, and his disgust may be imagined when
he found himself selected by his grandfather to go to the village tavern
for the necessary quantity of "Old Rye." He asked that some other
messenger might be sent, but the old gentleman was inflexible. Nobody
but Willard would satisfy his whim--perhaps because he felt that, in the
custody of his grandson, the "fire-water" would not be tampered with on
its return to the farm. Willard did not openly rebel against his
grandfather's commands--since it was the fashion in those days for
children to be obedient--but turned his attention to gaining his object
by means of a little stratagem. Not far from the house on the road
leading to the store stood an old pump, concealed from view by an
intervening building and a rising hill. Here this youthful disciple of
Father Matthew made it a practice regularly to stop, and pouring out
half the contents of the jug he carried, refilled it with the crystal
liquid from the pump.

At first this _improvement_ in their potations seemed hardly to attract
the attention of the individuals interested; but, as each day the
proportion of water increased, the dilution at last forced itself upon
their attention, and every one agreed that the tavern-keeper was
cheating Jabez in the "Rye" business. The result of it all was the
withdrawal of Jabez Glazier's custom from the establishment in
question, and the future purchase of "spiritual" goods by Mr. Jabez
himself in person.

Thus Willard's object was attained, and the cold-water people were no
longer vexed by the inconsistent spectacle of a son of temperance
playing Ganymede to a set of drinking, though by no means drunken,

Not often, now, did young Willard figure as chief in any mad scrape or
wild boyish adventure. Those times were left behind. Once, indeed, his
uncle Henry, the patron of the great chief "_Kaw-shaw-gan-ce_," swooped
down upon the household, and, in an enormous four-horse sleigh of his
own construction, took him, together with a gay and festive party of
lads and lasses, off to Edwards, a village nine miles away. Here the
rustic party had a "shake-down," and young Willard got fearfully sick in
a dense atmosphere of tobacco smoke. The feast over, he was tightly
packed in the sleigh with the buxom country girls and their muscular
attendants, while Henry Glazier drove across country through a blinding
snow-storm and over measureless drifts. The party was stranded at last
on a rail fence under the snow, and the living freight flung bodily
forth and buried in the deep drifts. They emerged from their snowy
baptism with many a laugh and scream and shout, and tramped the
remainder of the distance home. The horses having made good their
escape, Willard was carried forward on his uncle Henry's back.



  Ward Glazier moves to the Davis Place.--"Far in the lane a lonely
    house he found."--Who was Davis?--Description of the place.--A
    wild spot for a home.--Willard at work.--Adventure with an
    ox-team.--The road, the bridge and the stream.--"As an ox
    thirsteth for the water."--Dashed from a precipice!--Willard as a
    horse-tamer.--"Chestnut Bess," the blooded mare.--The start for
    home.--"Bess" on the rampage.--A lightning dash.--The stooping
    arch.--Bruised and unconscious.

It will be remembered that when Ward Glazier left the Homestead, he
removed to a neighboring farm known as the Goodrich Place,--a fine,
comfortable, well-stocked and well-tilled farm, presenting an appearance
of prosperity to the eye of the observer and calculated to make the
impression that its owner must be well-to-do in the world. As we have
heretofore hinted, however, Ward Glazier failed to prosper there. Why
this was the case it is hard to tell. A late writer has suggested that
"not only the higher intellectual gifts but even the finer moral
emotions are an incumbrance to the fortune-hunter." That "a gentle
disposition and extreme frankness and generosity have been the ruin in a
worldly sense of many a noble spirit;" and he adds that "there is a
degree of cautiousness and distrust and a certain insensibility and
sternness that seem essential to a man who has to bustle through the
world and engineer his own affairs,"--and if he be right, the matter
may be easily understood.

However that may be, he failed to prosper, and as business misfortunes
began to fall thick and fast upon his head, he gave up the farm to his
creditors, together with all his other effects, and took up his abode at
the Davis Place.

Who the particular Davis was whose name clung to the place we have been
unable to ascertain, but when Ward Glazier moved there, the house seemed
fairly to scowl upon the passer-by--so utterly unprepossessing was its
appearance. A rude, capacious wooden structure, it stood fronting the
highway, and was a place where the beautiful had no existence. The very
soil looked black and rough--the vegetation rugged. Every inclosure was
of stone or knotted timber, and even a dove-cot which in its fresher
days some hand had placed upon the lawn, was now roofless and shattered,
and lay prone upon the ground, a shapeless mass of collapsed boards. The
lawn--if such it could be named--resembled a bleak shore, blackened with
stranded wrecks of ships whose passengers had long years before gone
down at sea. The broken windows in the dormitories were festooned with
cobwebs that had housed long lines of ancestral spiders, and where a
pane or two of glass remained among the many empty frames, one fancied a
gibbering spectre might look out from the gloomy depths behind.

The back-ground against which this bleak and sombre place was thrown was
no less grim and stern. Huge rocks in tiers, like stone coffins, rose in
fierce ranges one above another up and up--back and farther back until
they reached a point from whence a miniature forest of dwarf beech and
maple, that appeared to crown the topmost bastion of them all, nodded in
the swaying wind like funeral plumes upon a Titan's hearse.

In fact, the only gleam of light upon the place--and it was a crazy,
fitful gleam at that--came from a rushing stream that took its source
high up among the hills. This brook first seen off to the extreme left
of the house, came dashing down the rocks until it reached a level.
Then, swinging round with sudden swirl it engirdled the place, and after
many a curious twist and turn got straight again and went onward far off
among the neighboring fields and lost itself at last in the Oswegatchie.
The interior of the house was just as wild and dreary as the exterior.
The rooms, for the most part, were too large for comfort. When one
spoke, a dozen ghostly echoes answered, and at twilight the smaller
children huddled around the kitchen fire and seldom went beyond that
cheerful room until bed time. Often, in the dead of night, the creaking
of timber and the voices of the wind startled the little ones from
sleep, and a sense of something unreal and mysterious overshadowed their
young minds.

It was, take it all in all, a grim, gaunt, strange place in which to fix
a home. It was there, however, in the midst of such sterile
surroundings, that the next five years of Willard's life were mainly
passed. There were no external influences brought to bear upon this
portion of his existence that were not harsh and wild and stern. His
father, honest even to the verge of fanaticism, was letting his heart
corrode to bitterness under the sense of hopeless indebtedness. The
churlish fields attached to the place offered but a grudging reward for
the hardest labor. There was no hope of his acquiring a profession or
even an education beyond the scant opportunity of Allen Wight's school,
unless he himself could earn the means to pay for it. Still he was
neither discouraged nor without hope. Instead of sinking under this
accumulation of difficulties, his moral fibre was rendered more robust,
and with it his physical strength and usefulness developed daily.

Thus a year sped on, and at the end of that time his father, as one
means of adding something to his scanty resources, obtained the job of
hauling a quantity of iron ore from the ore beds near Little York to a
forge and furnace at Fullerville. Willard with an ox-team and his uncle
Henry with a span of fine horses, were employed for the most part to do
the actual hauling.

By this time Willard was quite familiar with the management of horses,
and he had also learned to drive oxen, so that at the age of thirteen he
worked with his ox-team as regularly and almost as efficiently as any of
his grown-up uncles or even his father. The management of an ox-team, by
the way, is quite different from that of horses, and at times it becomes
very troublesome business, requiring for its successful accomplishment
the very nicest admixture of courage, coolness and discretion. Willard,
however, with the self-reliance that always characterizes a boy of his
age, never for a moment doubted that he was adequate to the task, and as
he had been placed in charge of a very fine yoke of oxen, took much
pride in driving them in the same manner as he would have driven a span
of horses, seated on the top of his load upon the wagon instead of being
on foot and close by their heads, as prudence would have taught an
older driver to do. The truth is, that if there was any human being
before whom the boy delighted to exhibit himself as doing a manly part
in his little circle of existence, that being was Henry Glazier.

Consequently, when his uncle's team was on the road, Master Willard took
a position upon his own load with as important an air as if he were on
the box of a coach-and-four, and guided his cattle as if they were
animals of the most docile disposition, to halt at his whisper or
proceed at his word. As the principal part of the work was performed at
midsummer under the rays of a scorching sun, the cattle were, of course,
irritable and restive to a degree that in colder weather would have
seemed inconsistent with the phlegmatic characteristics of their race.

The road from Little York to Fullerville is a winding, narrow road,
somewhat hilly in places, and neither very smooth nor level at any
point. Midway between the two villages a brawling stream crosses the
road, and making a turn empties itself, at the distance of about thirty
yards, into the waters of the Oswegatchie. This stream is spanned by a
rustic bridge at a very considerable elevation above the water. The
banks are high and abrupt, and, as the traveler approaches them, he
cannot fail to be attracted by the silvery sparkle of the waters far
below. The view from the bridge takes in the white farm-houses with
their emerald setting of rich grain-fields and meadowlands, the distant
forge with its belching smoke-stacks, the winding Oswegatchie, and the
distant blue hills. If the month happens to be August, the traveler may
hear the cheerful hum of busy industry, the swinging cradles of the
harvesters or the steady roll of the reaper. Upon a day, late in this
richest of summer months--August--in the year of our Lord 1854, Willard
and his uncle Henry were slowly wending their way towards
Fullerville--the former with his ox-team and the latter with a spanking
span of horses. The beasts of burden by their drooping heads and slow
pace evinced the fact that the loads of ore they were drawing were
unusually heavy, and this, combined with the sultry atmosphere, was
telling upon the strength of even such powerful beasts as they.

Willard, as usual, was seated upon the top of his load, and, as they
neared the bridge, despite his familiarity with every detail of the
scene, a sense of its exquisite beauty took possession of him, and, for
a moment, he forgot that he was driving an ox-team. For a moment he was
oblivious to the fact that it takes all a driver's care and skill to
prevent mischief whenever a thirsty ox obtains a glimpse of water upon a
summer's day. As they neared the bridge, the fevered eyes of the cattle
caught sight of the limpid stream away down below, and, just as a cry of
warning from his uncle recalled the boy to a sense of the deadly peril
of his position, the cattle made an oblique plunge over the edge of the
bank with two tons of iron-ore in lumps varying from five pounds to
fifty, pouring a huge and deadly hail over their reckless heads. With
rare presence of mind for a boy of his age, the instant he heard his
uncle's warning cry, Willard realized the situation and jumped sideways
from the wagon. As he did so, his hat fell off and rolled a short
distance away. At the same moment a lump of ore, weighing not less than
one-hundred pounds, fell upon it and crushed it so deeply into the
ground that it was completely hidden from view. Many months afterwards,
some boys digging for fish-bait found the hat buried there, and returned
to the village with a tale of some possible and unknown murder,
committed when or by whom no one could tell.

[Illustration: Tragic Experience With An Ox-team.]

As for the boy himself, he escaped with only a scratch or two and a few
bruises, but that he escaped with his life or with sound limbs was
almost a miracle; and, as his big-hearted uncle picked him up, he hugged
the lad as one snatched from the very jaws of death. Willard was
somewhat awed by the narrowness of his escape, and it was observed that
his face wore an expression a shade graver than was its wont for several
days after the occurrence.

The lesson, however, made no lasting impression. Scarce a week had gone
by ere his life was once more imperilled, and this time the danger
resulted from his own reckless over-confidence in himself.

It is a singular fact in the boy's history that every danger to which at
this period of his life he was exposed, seems to have been twin-brother
to some other hazard equally great, and which tripped upon its very

As already stated, Willard was a good horseman for a boy of his age. He
possessed considerable nerve, and, having been brought up among horses,
knew a good deal about their ways. But his real knowledge upon the
subject was nothing to that which he thought he possessed; and, though a
stout little fellow, of course he lacked the muscle of steel that is
required to master an enraged horse. But he had never hesitated to ride
any steed in all that neighborhood, with the single exception of one of
a pair of extremely beautiful but vicious mares, which on account of her
color was named "Chestnut Bess."

This horse was as wild and untamed as the famous steed of Mazeppa, and
even Henry Glazier, master-horseman though he was, seldom attempted to
use this one, except in harness with her mate. The knowledge of this
fact excited an overweening desire in Willard's breast to show them what
_he_ could do in the way of taming the hitherto untamed creature, and
never having been unhorsed in his life, he determined, upon the first
favorable opportunity, to try his powers upon the vicious animal. That
opportunity was not long in coming. One summer morning it was arranged
that Willard should go over to his grandfather's and aid in the
cultivation of a large corn-field on the Homestead Farm. Willard made up
his mind that, if he went, he would go in style on the back of "Chestnut
Bess." He wanted to show his Uncle Henry and the others what the "little
runt" was capable of accomplishing as an equestrian. Accordingly, he
placed a good strong bridle upon the mare's head, gave an extra pull at
the saddle-girth to assure himself there was no possibility of _that_
failing him, and, taking a hoe, which he wished to use in his work on
the farm, in his right hand, he led the mare quietly down the path, out
through the gate, and into the road. Gathering the reins in his left
hand, without giving her time to conjecture his object--for mounting her
was no easy task--he jumped lightly into the saddle, and screwed his
knees into her sides with all his might.

Now, this mare was not one of those ordinary quadrupeds possessing a
single vice, which the rider may learn and master. She was an animal of
infinite resources. Her modes of attack were innumerable. It is true she
rather preferred to settle matters upon the very threshold of the
contest in a short, sharp way, by kicking her man before he could mount.
But, if baffled in this design, she would vary the proceedings by
dashing her head down between her knees, sending her heels up in the
air, and, if possible, plunge the rider over her head to the ground; or,
she would waltz round on her hind legs in such a way as to render the
best balanced brain somewhat dizzy and uncertain; in the event of the
failure of these coquettish pleasantries, she had not a single scruple
against playing Shylock, and taking her pound of flesh out of his leg
with her teeth. Thus, you see, it would not do to go to sleep upon her
back; and Master Willard Glazier no sooner found himself firmly seated
than he made up his mind that for the time, at least, he had his hands
full of business. As the mare had been deprived of an opportunity to
kick him, by the suddenness with which he sprang upon her back, she
concluded to try her next favorite line of strategy and shake him off.
So down went her head and up went her heels, and, had he been less on
the alert, he must have gone to earth; but, with his knees dug into her
sides as if they were the opposite jaws of a vice, for every jerk of her
head _down_ he gave one with the reins _up_, and at each jerk the
hoe-handle gave her a rap over the ears, so that she began to find the
fun less agreeable than usual. Changing her tactics, with a bound she
proceeded to execute a fine imitation of the "German," and spin round
like a Fifth Avenue belle or a humming-top. But the boy's young, clear,
temperate brain and well-disciplined nerves were proof even against this
style of attack, and still firm in his seat, he belabored the brute with
his hoe with such a perfect rain of blows that she gave up her prancing
and dashed down the road at a break-neck pace. For perhaps five hundred
yards the road led down hill, and then, crossing a stream, ascended
again, the ascent being quite steep and by no means smooth.

While upon the descent, it was all Willard could do to hold on, for he
was encumbered with the hoe, which at every jump of the mare struck the
top of her head, until she absolutely flew. The few pedestrians upon the
road that morning stopped in amazement to stare after the mad flight of
horse and rider.

As soon as the bridge was crossed and they commenced the abrupt rise,
"Chestnut Bess" began to slacken her pace, but the young gentleman, who
by this time considered himself her master, would not agree to this. He
proposed to give her a lesson, so he administered a good thrashing with
his novel style of whip and compelled her to keep her pace all the way
to the top of the hill, where horse and rider at length arrived in
safety. From that point to the Old Homestead the mare was perfectly
willing to jog along quietly, and when they reached the farm you may be
sure that the "spirit" of one "mortal" at least was "proud," as he
related to his wondering kinsman how he had taken the mischief out of
the chestnut mare.

The boy rose immeasurably in his uncle Henry's estimation by this feat,
and all were delighted with his pluck, though Jabez Glazier, his
grandfather, with his greater experience, warned him not to trust the
beast too far, for, according to his belief, her eye had danger in it
yet. When the day of work was ended, Willard once more mounted upon
"Chestnut Bess" and rode towards home. For a short time the mare trotted
quietly along, and the boy was more than ever convinced that he had
broken her of her tricks.

This agreeable belief however was of short duration. The thought had
hardly entered his head when she commenced her antics again. Her heels
went skyward and her nose went down, and a repetition of the morning's
performances succeeded.

There was quite as much vigor and pertinacity in her movements as if she
were just starting out for the day. This time Willard had provided
himself with a stout beech switch, and used its stinging persuasion with
good effect. She danced, she pranced, she waltzed, she made sudden
dashes and full stops. She would have rolled in the gravel if the boy's
switch had ceased stinging her into motives for action, but she could
not shake him off. He clung to her back like a little leech, and it
began to look as if human will-power was going to conquer brute
stubbornness, when suddenly a new idea seemed to enter the animal's
head. Without a moment's warning, and utterly scorning the control of
the bit which she had taken in her teeth, she swung round and at full
gallop made straight for the Homestead farm from which she had so lately
come. The farm-yard gate was wide open and she dashed in, making
directly for the wagon-shed at the extreme end of the place, which was
now empty. This shed, the top of which was supported by a cross-beam,
was only just high enough to permit a wagon to be sheltered there, and
if the horse got in, Willard saw at a glance that she would be obliged
to lower her head to do so, and that in the course of her entry he must
inevitably strike the beam and perhaps be instantly killed or swept off
her back upon a pile of rocks that on either side walled the entrance to
the shed.

His heart for once failed him, for there seemed no earthly hope of
escape. There was no time to spring off, even if the speed at which he
was going would have permitted him to do so, for in a shorter time than
it has taken to describe the scene, the shed was reached, bang went the
mare's head against the opposite end, and at the same instant Willard
felt a dull thud against his person, realized the fact that he was being
thrown into the air, and then came darkness and unconsciousness. He was
dashed violently upon the stones, and when picked up his body was found
to be much lacerated and bruised.

Fortunately, however, no bones were broken, though he was obliged to
keep his bed for some days afterwards. No doubt while lying there during
slow convalescence he mused upon the vicissitudes attendant upon the
career of a horse-tamer. At all events from this time he became much
steadier and more prudent,--the wild adventures of his earlier boyhood
having entirely lost their attraction for him.



  A plan of life.--Determination to procure an education.--A
    substitute at the plow.--His father acquiesces in his
    determination to become a trapper.--Life in the wild woods along
    the Oswegatchie.--The six "dead-falls."--First success.--A
    fallacious calculation.--The goal attained.--Seventy-five dollars
    in hard cash!--Four terms of academic life.--The youthful
    rivals.--Lessons in elocution.--A fight with hair-brushes and
    chairs!--"The walking ghost of a kitchen fire."--Renewed
    friendship.--Teaching to obtain means for an education.

At this period of Willard's life, he is described by Mr. Rennehan as
having acquired an appetite for the acquisition of knowledge which soon
became the controlling passion of his nature, and, "thoroughly absorbed
by this idea, he fixed upon the select school of his native town as the
institution best adapted to initiate him in the course suited to the
fulfilment of his laudable ambition."

But his determination to procure an education met with obstacles from
the outset. How to defray the necessary expenses which such a course
involved was the question which continually presented itself for his
ingenuity to solve. His father's reverses placed it quite beyond the
possibilities to hire help upon the farm, and Willard's services had
therefore come to be looked upon as something of vital importance.

In dragging from the hard soil of the Davis place the living which
necessity compelled, he performed the work of a man, and the perfect
trust which his father reposed in him gave his services additional

This fact increased the difficulty of his position; but though he made
it a point to husband all his spare time for self-instruction, he was
far from satisfied with the existing state of affairs, and pondered long
and earnestly over the best means of securing the advantages of regular

At that time the streams tributary to the St. Lawrence were supplied
with such fur-bearing animals as the mink, the musk-rat, the otter, and
the more humble rabbit, the skins of all of which were more or less
valuable and were sought by professional trappers. These men found the
business a reasonably lucrative one, and it commended itself especially
to Willard, as health and strength were the only capital required. The
grand difficulty was how to supply his place in the work of the farm.
His father was a man who always listened with patience and sympathy to
any scheme that promised to benefit his children. His son, therefore,
had no hesitation in laying the whole matter before him and seeking his
advice upon the subject. He felt, of course, that any proposal to
withdraw his personal labor from the common stock of exertion by which
the cultivation of the farm was rendered a possibility, was a direct
pecuniary tax upon his father's resources; but he believed he could to a
great extent neutralize the injury by supplying a substitute.

He also felt assured that although the step he proposed to take might be
a present loss to the family it would prove an ultimate gain. He was
thoroughly determined to make _his_ life a success, and he was just as
thoroughly determined that any success which might crown his efforts
should be shared by his parents. It is true that the road looked long
and the path rough, but he had a "heart for any fate," and his courage
never failed. A substitute at the plow he knew he could obtain for a
small sum, and the board of such a person would take the place of his
own at the home table, and he never doubted that he could earn a
sufficient surplus to pay the wages of such an assistant. At all events
he made up his mind to try the experiment.

With young Willard, to think was to act, and this project was no sooner
conceived than he proceeded to put it into execution. He laid his plans
frankly before his father, who, to his great gratification, assented to
his proposal. A man was hired for fifteen dollars a month to take
Willard's place on the farm, and the latter made his first venture as a

His initial experiment was to set six traps of the pattern called a
"dead-fall" or "figure of four," and this resulted in the capture of two
minks worth about eight dollars. With what an exultant heart he drew out
his first mink and realized that by his own unaided exertions he had
made some money, no boy or man need be told. He at once, however,
entered into some rather fallacious calculations and built some
extremely airy castles. It occurred to him that if out of six traps he
could obtain two skins, out of one hundred he could obtain thirty-three,
and so on, in proportion.

This, however, proved to be a miscalculation, it not being so much the
number of traps set, as the quantity of game in a given locality which
regulates the amount of success for a trapper. Yet his efforts in this
new business succeeded to a gratifying degree, and the fact of having
exchanged the dull monotony of farm drudgery for the exhilarating
excitement of a hunter's life, was in itself a sufficient reward for any
amount of exertion. Indeed what mode of life could be happier or more
free, for a healthy, strong-limbed youth of fifteen, than to live as he
then did, almost entirely in the woods? Then too, his daily route lay in
the midst of some of the finest scenery to be found anywhere in New
York, even in that grand old county of St. Lawrence.

To a lover of nature nothing could be more alluring than the locality
through which Willard, at that period of his life, trapped and hunted.
To follow the winding waters of the Oswegatchie is to enjoy a perpetual
feast. That river is one of a great family of rivers, among which may be
enumerated the Rackett, the Grasse, the Indian, and the Black, all of
which take their rise far up in the recesses of the great North Woods.
Though not to any extent navigable, it is yet nearly as broad as the
lovely and "blue Juniata" of "peaceful Pennsylvania."

At times turbulent and brawling, it is often vexed in its passage to the
St. Lawrence by rapids and cataracts varying in height and volume, but
which in their infinite variety give a wild and romantic beauty to this
poetical stream. At times it glides smoothly along through low meadow
lands, and again it plunges into some dense thicket or brawls through
some briery dell where the foliage is so thick that one can only see
the glint and ripple of its waters at rare intervals, shining between
the lapping leaves and tangled vines. Then again it sweeps onward
through cleft rocks and jutting banks until, lost at last in the very
heart of the primeval forest, its twilight waters reflect the images of
giant trees which had their beginning on its banks a century ago.

[Illustration: The Young Trapper Of The Oswegatchie.]

Willard's life during that autumn passed in persevering work. Day by day
he traveled his accustomed routes, while the leaves turned from green to
red and from red to russet and brown, and at last fell from the naked
branches of the forest trees with a little farewell rustle, to be
trodden into the rich soil below.

By the time the first snow came he found himself much more robust
physically, and with seventy-five dollars clear profit in his pocket. In
addition to these advantages he also acquired the inestimable habit of
self-reliance, so that when he entered upon a course of preparation for
his academic life, it was with full faith in himself. For four terms,
beginning August thirteenth, 1857, and ending the latter part of June,
1859, he remained at the excellent institution of learning which he had
selected, and while there gained considerable credit as a hard student.

During the first of these terms a generous rivalry existed between
himself and a youth by the name of Albert Burt, as to which should lead
the class. As it turned out, however, they kept together and were both
marked "perfect." The academy was under the management of the Rev. E. C.
Bruce, M. A., Principal; and Andrew Roe, Professor of Mathematics. About
a month or six weeks after he entered the school, he arranged to take
lessons in elocution under a Professor Bronson, that gentleman having
organized a large class at the academy.

In a brief diary kept by him at the time, we find the remark that he was
"greatly pleased with the Professor's method of teaching that important
branch of study." Willard had advanced to the higher grade of Algebra
and Grammar, had added Philosophy to the list of his studies, and having
cultivated a natural turn for public speaking, was elected on the
eighteenth of December, 1857, a member of the Oratorical Society--an
association connected with the institution. His boy experiences were
very similar to those which happen to all lads in academic life. He had
his chums, among whom were Brayton Abbott and Ozias Johnson; he had his
little flirtations with misses of his own age, and he had his fights, as
all boys have.

Among the latter was one with Johnson, who was his room-mate, and who,
being four years older than himself, undertook, for fun, to rub his face
with a newly-purchased hair-brush. This kind of fun did not suit
Willard, however, and he resented it by giving Johnson a "dig" in the
ribs. Whereupon a fight ensued in earnest, and as Willard was too young
and light to keep up the contest at close quarters, he dodged his
adversary and covered his retreat by dropping chairs in front of
Johnson's legs, which brought that young gentleman to the floor more
than once, to his own intense disgust and Willard's great gratification.
At length Johnson managed to corner his opponent, and then rubbed his
face so thoroughly with the bristles that his comrades that morning
thought he had caught the scarlet-fever, or as Dickens says, that he
was the "walking ghost of a kitchen fire."

As generally happens, however, between two manly fellows, their combat
inspired a feeling of mutual respect, and from being mere acquaintances
they grew to be fast friends.

Study and sedentary habits at length so much impaired Willard's health
that, in the latter part of the month of August, 1858, he was compelled
to cease his attendance at school and go home. The thirtieth of
September following, however, found him at the Teachers' Institute of
St. Lawrence County, with the proceedings of which body he appears to
have been highly gratified, for in the diary to which we have already
referred, he speaks of it in these words:--

"I am now attending the Teachers' Institute of this county, which is in
session at Gouverneur, it having opened upon the twenty-seventh instant.
The School Commissioners are Mr. C. C. Church and Allen Wight. I am
highly pleased with the proceedings and the method of conducting the
exercises of this apparently indispensable part of a Teacher's
instruction,"--adding that it was his "intention to become a teacher the
coming winter." Indeed, to be a teacher seems to have been his favorite
scheme of life, and his highest ambition was ultimately to fill the
chair of Mathematics in one of the great institutions of learning. That
most exact of sciences was his favorite branch of study, and the
intellectual stimulus which it imparts had for him a peculiar

In pursuance of his object, and in order, by teaching during one part of
the year, to raise means to enable him to attend school during another
portion, he set about procuring for himself a school. Fortunately for
the accomplishment of his object, it was suggested to him to apply to
the School Commissioner of his own Assembly district, and he did so. The
examination which followed his application, owing to some local rivalry,
was extremely rigid; but he passed through it with great credit and
received the appointment he desired, being assigned forthwith to duty in
the town of Edwards, St. Lawrence County. He commenced teaching in the
bleak month of November, 1858, and was very earnest in fulfilling the
duties of his position, taking every opportunity not only of instilling
knowledge into the minds of his pupils, but also striving to imbue them
with a love of self-culture. He labored hard in his efforts to earn
means with which to support himself during the coming summer at the
Gouverneur Wesleyan Seminary, and discovered while thus working that
teaching was as much of a discipline for himself as for his pupils.

The time does not seem to have passed unpleasantly to him at this period
of his career, for in an entry made in his diary on the twenty-eighth of
November, 1858, he says:

"I am spending the evening with Mr. Hiram Harris and family, having come
into the district this afternoon. My mission here is to teach school for
a term of three months in fulfilment of the contract existing between
the trustees and myself. In compliance with a custom that prevails, I am
expected to 'board around,' as it is styled, and Mr. Harris, being one
of the Trustees, has invited me to spend my first week at his house.

"The School Commissioner of this Assembly district is Mr. C. C. Church,
of Potsdam, from whom I received a certificate based upon the
recommendation of Commissioner Allen Wight of the first district. The
School Trustees are E. L. Beardsley, Hiram Harris, and Jeptha Clark. The
present term will be my first experience in the profession I have
adopted. I do hope it will prove a useful one, for I am of opinion that
a teacher's first experience is apt to give color to his whole future
career." The day after this entry he adds that "only a small attendance
greeted me upon opening my school," and after consoling himself with the
reflection that this will leave him plenty of time for study, he adopted
a single rule--"Do right;" and an additional motto, "A time and place
for everything and everything in its time and place."

It will thus be seen that he had already acquired a clear idea of the
importance of order in every pursuit, and knew that method gives to an
ordinary mortal Briærean arms with which to accomplish whatever he may
desire to do. How few attain to this knowledge until it is too late!

As a writer, whose words we think worthy of remembrance, has said:

"This is an era of doing things scientifically. People make scientific
calculations of the weather, and the average number of murders for the
next year. They measure the stars and they measure the affections, both
scientifically. The only thing they fail to do scientifically is, to
manage themselves. As a rule, they _drift_, and then find fault with
fate and Providence because they don't drift into the right port. They
drift _into_ life with a multiplicity of vague dreams, which are
somehow to be realized; but they have a very dim idea of ways and means.
They drift _through_ it, carelessly, with an inadequate knowledge of
their own resources, and a still more inadequate notion of using them to
the best advantage; they drift _out_ of it with a melancholy sense of
failure, both absolutely as to themselves and relatively as to the
world. Of all their splendid possibilities, none are realized. Nothing
is completed. They start wrong or they make one fatal step, and
everything goes wrong all the way through. It seems as if most lives
were only experiments. Now and then one is turned out which fits in its
niche and is tolerably symmetrical. The rest are all awry, unfinished,
misplaced, and merely faint suggestions of what might have been. Much of
this is doubtless beyond mortal control, but a far greater portion is
due to the lack of a nice direction of forces. The human mechanism is
complicated, and a very slight flaw sets it all wrong. There may be too
much steam or too much friction, or too little power or too little
balance. But clearly the first step is to strengthen the weak points, to
gauge its capabilities, to set it running smoothly, and to give it a
definite aim. If existence were simply passive and the mission of man
was to _be_ instead of to _do_, he might perhaps be left to develop as
the trees do, according to his own will or fancy or according to certain
natural laws. But as it is the universal wish wherever one is, to be
somewhere else, a little higher in the scale, it seems to be a part of
wisdom, as well as humanity, to fit one for climbing. But many an
aspirant finds his wings clipped in the beginning of his career, through
the ignorance or carelessness of his friends, who never took the trouble
of measuring his capabilities. He is treated as a receptacle into which
a certain amount of ideas are to be poured, no matter whether they may
answer to anything within him or not. He is turned out of an educational
mill with five hundred others, and with plenty of loose knowledge, but
without the remotest idea of what to do with it, or what nature intended
him for, and with no especial fitness for any one thing. He can _think_,
probably, if he has the requisite amount of brains, but how to establish
a relation between thought and bread and butter is the problem. He has
the requisite motive power, but it is not attached to anything. _He_
does not know how to attach it, so he revolves in a circle, or makes a
series of floundering experiments, that bear meagre fruit, perhaps when
the better part of his life is gone. He knows _books_, but he does _not_
know men. He is a master of theories, but cannot apply them. If he has a
small amount of brains, his case is still more hopeless. To be sure, a
proper amount of knowledge has been poured in, but it has all slipped
through. He might have assimilated some other kind of knowledge, but
that particular kind has left him with mental dyspepsia, and a vague
feeling of hopelessness which is likely to prove fatal to all useful
effort. Or perhaps he has talent, but is destitute of the requisite tact
to make it tell upon the world. His success depends largely on his power
to move others, but he has no lever and is forced to rely upon main
strength, which involves a serious expenditure of vitality, with only
doubtful results. He works all his life against perpetual friction,
because no one had the foresight or insight to discern that this was the
flaw in his machinery.

"Another fatal point is in the choice of a vocation. Having drifted
through an education, he next drifts into his business or profession. He
rarely stops to take an inventory of his capital, or, at best, he takes
a very partial one. Chance or circumstance decides him. His grandfather
sits on the judge's bench. He thinks the judge's bench a desirable
place, so he takes to the law. He puts on his grandfather's coat without
the slightest reference to whether it will fit or not. Perhaps he
intends to grow to _it_, but a willow sapling cannot grow into an oak.
It may grow into a very respectable willow, but if it aspires to the
higher dignity, it will most likely get crushed or blown over. It may be
that he has a grand vision of commercial splendor, and plunges into
business life with a very good idea of Sophocles and Horace and no idea
whatever of trade; with a very good talent for theories, but none
whatever for facts; with some insight into metaphysics, but none at all
into people. Instead of trying his strength in shallow waters, he starts
to cross the Atlantic in a very small skiff. By the time he has reached
mid-ocean he discovers his error, but it is too late to turn back; so he
is buffeted about by winds and waves until he, too, goes down and counts
among the failures.

"Another of the few points upon which life hinges is marriage, and
people drift into that as they do into everything else. It is one of the
things to be done in order to complete the circle of human experience. A
man is caught by a pretty face and a winning smile. He takes no thought
of the new element he is adding to his life, either with reference to
his outward career or his inward needs. Caprice governs his choice, or
perhaps a hard form of self-interest. Having committed one or two of
the grand errors of life, he settles down to its serious business, and
speedily discovers that he has a dead weight to carry. He has mistaken
his vocation, whatever it may be.

"He is conscious now that it is too late to change; that he might have
attained supreme excellence in some other calling. He toils with heavy
heart and sinking spirit at the plodding pace of dull mediocrity. His
work is drudgery and wearies him body and soul. Those who once smiled
upon him pass him by. Men of far inferior capabilities distance him in
the race. Perhaps too he has made another misstep, and has a wife who
sympathizes neither with his tastes nor his trials: who has no
comprehension of him whatever, save that he is a being whose business it
is to love her and furnish her with spending money. The beauty which
fascinated him has grown faded and insipid. The pretty coquetries that
won him pall upon him; he is absolutely alone with the burden of life
pressing heavily upon him. Is it strange that he is mastered in the
battle and finally falls beneath the world's pitiless tread? This is a
sad little picture, but it is an every-day one, and the world goes on
its way as before.

"What matters it that a lonely, dissipated man has lain down in sorrow
to rise no more! The world cannot stop to weep over the remains of the
departed one it has trampled upon. Those whose business it is can take
them on one side, lay them away under the green sod out of sight, shed a
tear perhaps, and pass on until their turn comes to lay down wearily, go
to sleep, and be laid away. The world chides, the world laughs, but it
takes no cognizance of the grief--

    "'That inward breaks and shows no cause without,
    _Why_ the man dies.'

"Yet there is but the difference of a point in the game between the
victim and the hero. The cards are the same, or the victim, perhaps,
_may_ hold the best trumps, but he plays recklessly, loses his point,
loses his game, loses all! On such slight things does human destiny
hinge. The hero has all his resources at command--his game dimly
outlined. He knows his winning cards, and he plays them skilfully.

"Every point tells. Nothing is left to chance that can be accomplished
by foresight. He wins the game. He wins the prizes. He has the mastery
of life. The world takes off its hat to him. Fortune and people smile
upon him. Not that he is better than others--very likely he is not so
good. But the world counts results. Becky Sharp is not a model, but
Becky Sharp is a power. The world does not like her in the abstract, but
it likes her dinners, it courts her smiles, it fawns upon her, it
showers its good things upon her, all because _she has mastered it_.
Becky Sharp is not a model. Her aims are unworthy, and her means
unscrupulous; but she reads us a lesson in fact, in foresight, in
energy, in the subtle art of making the most of limited resources. So
long as life is a game, it is worth studying. The difference between
playing it well and playing it ill is the difference between light and
darkness, between joy and desolation, between life and death."

Even at that early and immature time of his life, Willard Glazier had
thought much upon this subject--examples of the disjointed successes of
all unplanned and unmethodical careers having been brought too
frequently into close proximity to his own door, not to have made an
impression upon his inquiring mind.

Hence, at the very threshold of his life as a teacher, he resolved to
have plan and purpose clearly defined in everything he did.



  From boy to man.--The Lyceum debate.--Willard speaks for the
    slave.--Entrance to the State Normal School.--Reverses.--Fighting
    the world again.--Assistance from fair hands.--Willard meets
    Allen Barringer.--John Brown, and what Willard thought of
    him.--Principles above bribe.--Examination.--A sleepless
    night.--Haunted by the "ghost of possible defeat."--"Here is your
    certificate."--The school at Schodack Centre.--At the "Normal"
    again.--The Edwards School.--Thirty pupils at two dollars
    each.--The "soldier school-master."--Teaches at East
    Schodack.--The runaway ride.--Good-by mittens, robes and
    whip!--Close of school at East Schodack.

Although a very boy in years, young Glazier felt himself already
stepping upon the boundary line of manhood and, luckily for his future
welfare, comprehended the manifold dangers and mentally realized the
responsibilities which attend that phase of human existence.

Upon the fifth of February, 1857, the dull routine of a teacher's duty
was varied by a visit made to Edwards by Willard's uncle Joseph, and his
sisters; and, after closing his school, the former went home with his
visitors, and thence to a Lyceum which had been established in the
Herrick School District, where a debate was in progress as to the
relative importance, in a humanitarian point of view, of the bondage of
the African race in the Southern States, or the decadence of the
Indian tribes under the encroachments of the Whites. The "question"
assumed that the Aborigines were most worthy of sympathy; and young
Glazier, being invited to participate in the discussion, accepted, and
spoke upon the negative side of the question.

[Illustration: Gouverneur Wesleyan Seminary.]

He little dreamed upon that winter's night, when, in the small arena of
a village debating-club, he stood up as the champion of the slave, that
the day was not far distant when he would ride rowel-deep in carnage
upon battle-fields which war's sad havoc had made sickening, fighting
for the same cause in whose behalf he now so eloquently spoke.

No prophetic vision of what fate held in store for him appeared to the
ardent boy, speaking for those who could not rise from the darkness of
their bondage to speak for themselves. No glimpse of weary months
dragged out in Confederate prisons--of hair-breadth escapes from dangers
dread and manifold--of hiding in newly-dug graves made to assist the
flight of the living, not to entomb the dead--of lying in jungles and
cypress-swamps while fierce men and baffled hounds were panting for his
blood--of vicissitudes and perils more like the wild creations of some
fevered dream than the plain and unvarnished reality: nothing of all
this came before him to trouble his young hopes or cloud his bright
anticipations of the future.

He spoke of freedom, and had never seen a slave. He pictured the cruelty
of the lash used in a Christian land on Christian woman, be she black or
white. He spoke of the deeper wrong of tearing the new-born babe from
its mother's breast to sell it by the pound--of dragging the woman
herself from the father of her child and compelling her to mate with
other men--of the fact that such wrongs were not alone the offspring of
cruel hearts, nor of brutal owners, but arose from the mere operation of
barbarous laws where masters, if left to themselves, would have been
most kind. He spoke of such things as these, and yet he never dreamed
that his words were but the precursors of deeds that would make mere
words seem spiritless and tame.

Young Glazier spoke well. The little magnates of the place,--the older
men, after this, talked of him as of one likely to rise, to become a man
of note, and their manner grew more respectful towards the young
school-master. His occupations and amusements at this period of his
existence, though simple in their character, were considerably varied.

Among other entries in his journal about this date, is one that so
commends itself by its brevity and comprehensiveness that I quote it

"Having," he says, "received an invitation upon the twenty-fourth of
December, I attended a party at the residence of Jeptha Clark, whose
excellent wife received me very kindly; upon Christmas day I visited T.
L. Turnbull's school at Fullerville; upon Monday last called at Mr.
Austin's school in the Herrick District; Tuesday, dropped down for a
moment upon the students at Gouverneur; on Wednesday, returned home; and
on Thursday, for the greater part of the day, assisted uncle Joseph in
hauling wood from the swamps on the Davis Place."

Thus the time slipped rapidly by and his first term of teaching drew to
a close. In the spring of 1859 he again became a member of the
Gouverneur Wesleyan Seminary, and in May of that year, made the
following characteristic entry in his diary:

"'Order is Heaven's first law.' A time and place for everything, and
everything in its time and place, was the rule of conduct I adopted some
time ago. In accordance with this determination I have laid out the
following routine of occupation for each day. I intend to abide by it
during the present term. I will retire at ten o'clock P. M., rise each
morning at five o'clock, walk and exercise until six, then return to my
room, breakfast and read history until eight, then repeat what the
English call a 'constitutional,' viz.: another walk until prayers,
devoting the time intervening between prayers and recitation, to
Algebra. After recitation, I will study Geometry for three-quarters of
an hour, Latin for half an hour, and be ready for recitation again at
two o'clock. This will complete my regular course of study, and, by
carrying out this routine, I can dine at noon, and also have a
considerable amount of time for miscellaneous reading and writing, to
say nothing of my Saturdays, upon which I can review the studies of the

To this plan young Glazier adhered conscientiously, and hence made rapid
progress and very soon found himself in a condition to take another
forward step in the pathway of learning. That step was the entrance to
the State Normal School at Albany. To go to West Point and receive the
military training which our government benevolently bestows upon her
sons at that institution, had been his pet ambition for years--the
scheme towards which all his energies were bent. But failing in this,
his next choice was the Normal School. Accordingly, on a certain
September afternoon in 1859, he found himself in the capital city of the
Empire State, knocking for admission at the doors of the Normal School.
He was alone and among strangers in a great city, with a purse
containing the sum of eight dollars! For a course of seven or eight
months instruction this was certainly a modest estimate of expenses! In
fact, young Glazier had based his financial arrangements on a
miscalculation of the amount furnished by the State. He did not then
know that the only provision made by the body politic was for mileage,
tuition and text-books. But on Monday morning, September seventeenth,
1859, he signed his name to the Normal pledge, and at the conclusion of
the examination--which continued until September twenty-third--was
assigned to the Junior Class--there being at that time four classes: the
Senior and sub-Senior, Junior and sub-Junior.

The next step was to find lodgings at a weekly or monthly price more
suited to his means than those which he had temporarily taken at the
Adams House on his arrival there the previous evening. Always frugal in
regard to his personal expenditures, he knew that, in order to eke out
the full term with his scanty resources, he must carry his habitual
thrift to its fullest extent. He therefore scoured the town for
apartments, aided by references from Professor Cochran, principal of the
Normal, and finally obtained a room on Lydius street, almost within
shadow of the Cathedral, and at the certainly reasonable rate of "six
shillings per week." This room he shared with Alexander S. Hunter, from
Schoharie County, and a member of the sub-Senior Class. For several
weeks the young students boarded at this place, buying what food they
required, which the landlady cooked for them free of charge.
Seventy-five cents a week paid for their cooking and rent!

But even this small outlay soon exhausted the meagre resources of young
Glazier and, at the end of the time mentioned, he went over into
Rensselaer County, to look up a school, in order to replenish his
well-nigh empty purse, and to enable him to continue in his efforts to
acquire an education. It was a bright clear morning in November when he
left his boarding-place on Lydius street in quest of his self-appointed
work, and, crossing the Hudson on a ferry-boat, walked all the way to
Nassau by the Bloomingdale Road--a distance of sixteen miles. His object
was to find Allen Barringer, School Commissioner for Rensselaer County,
who, as he had been told, lived somewhere near Nassau. On the way to
that village he passed two or three schools, concerning which he made
inquiries, with a view to engaging some one of them on his return to
Albany should he be so successful as to obtain a certificate from Mr.
Barringer. At about two o'clock in the afternoon of this, to him,
eventful day, young Glazier had arrived at the residence of Harmon
Payne, near East Schodack, or "Scott's Corners," as it was sometimes
called. He had been referred to this gentleman as one likely to assist
him in his endeavors to obtain a school. He had eaten nothing since
morning, and, having walked a distance of nearly sixteen miles, as may
be imagined, was somewhat faint and hungry. But the good wife of Mr.
Payne showed herself not lacking in the kindly courtesy belonging to a
gentlewoman, and, with true hospitality, placed before the young Normal
student a delicious repast of bread and honey.

To this youthful wayfarer, with a purse reduced to a cypher, and
struggling over the first rough places in the pathway of life, the
simple meal was like manna in the wilderness. After chatting pleasantly
with the family for an hour or more, he started again on his journey.
But this time not alone; for Mr. Payne very kindly sent his niece with
the boy teacher, in whom he had become so much interested, to show him a
shorter route "across lots" to East Schodack. This village, two miles
farther on, by the traveled highway, was only three-quarters of a mile
distant by a pathway leading across the pasture lands of some adjoining
farms. In the fading November afternoon the young lady and her _protégé_
walked together to East Schodack--a walk which young Willard never
forgot, and out of which afterwards grew a fairy fabric of romantic
regard glittering with all the rainbow hues of boyish sentiment, and
falling collapsed in the after-crash of life, like many another
soap-bubble experience of first young days.

But he did not succeed, at that time, in securing the East Schodack
School, as he had hoped to do. Nothing daunted, however, he trod
reverses under foot and pushed on towards the residence of the School
Commissioner whose _ipse dixit_ was to award him success or failure.

Allen Barringer lived one mile from the village of Nassau, in Rensselaer
County, and it was nearly nightfall when, with an anxious heart and
weary with the day's journey, he knocked at the door of the comfortable
country residence which had been pointed out to him as the one
belonging to the School Commissioner. That gentleman himself came to the
door in answer to his knock, and upon Willard's inquiry for Mr.
Barringer replied:

"I am Mr. Barringer, sir; what can I do for you?"

His manner was so pleasant and his face so genial that young Glazier, at
once reassured, had no difficulty in making known his business.

"I have come out here from Albany," said he, "to see if I could pass
examination for a certificate, to teach in your district."

"Well, come in, come in," said Mr. Barringer, cordially, "and I will see
what I can do for you. You are not going back to Albany to-night?" he

"No, I shall not be able to do so," replied Willard.

"Have you friends or relatives here with whom you intend to stay?"

"No, sir."

"Then I shall be glad to have you stop with us to-night. I am a young
man like yourself, living at home here with my parents, as you see; I am
fond of company, and will be happy to place my room at your disposal.
And as there will be no hurry about the examination, we will talk more
about it after supper."

Young Glazier thanked his host for the kind proffer of entertainment,
and of course acquiesced in the arrangement.

Accordingly, after the physical man had been refreshed at a well-spread
supper-table, Mr. Barringer conducted his young guest to his own
apartments, where they drew their easy-chairs before a comfortable fire,
and entered into conversation.

"I am considerably interested in politics just now," said Mr. Barringer,
and then he asked abruptly, "what is your opinion of John Brown?"

At this time the first red flash of the war that swiftly followed, had
glowered athwart the political horizon, in the John Brown raid at
Harper's Ferry, and against this lurid background the figure of the
stern old man stood out in strong relief. It was at the period when,
shut up in prison, he was writing those heroic words to his wife, those
loving words of farewell to his children; when petitions poured in
pleading for his life--though they were petitions all in vain--and when,
naturally, partisan feeling on the subject was at its height. Willard
felt that in expressing his candid convictions he might be treading on
dangerous ground, and perhaps endangering his chances for success, yet
he held principle so high, and honest sentiment so far above bribe, that
if his certificate had depended on it he would not have hesitated to
express his admiration for the brave old man who laid down his life for
the slave, and whose name has since been crowned with the immortelles of
fame. Therefore Willard replied with a frankness worthy of emulation
that he looked upon John Brown as a conscientious, earnest, devoted
man--a man whose face was firmly set in the path of duty though that
path led to imprisonment and the gallows; a man much in advance of his
time--one of the pioneers of free thought, suffering for the sacred
cause, as pioneers in all great movements always suffer. He spoke with a
modest fearlessness known sometimes to youth and to few men. Mr.
Barringer replied that, though he held different views, he could not but
admire Willard's frankness in avowing his own political convictions,
and that this independence in principle would in nowise detract from his
previously formed good opinion of him. Afterwards, Mr. Barringer
examined him in the common English branches of study, besides astronomy,
philosophy and algebra--studies usually taught in the public schools of
Rensselaer County. In this way, with much pleasant talk dropped at
intervals through the official business of examination, interspersed
with politics and concluded with social chat, an agreeable evening

[Illustration: Old State Normal School. Albany, New York.]

Mr. Barringer at last said good-night to the young Normal student, with
the remark that he would see what could be done for him in the morning.

Not much sleep visited Willard's eyes that night, with the ghost of
possible defeat haunting his wakeful senses, stretched to their utmost
tension of anxiety.

Would he, or would he not, receive in the morning the certificate he
sought? This was the thought tossed continually up on the topmost wave
of his consciousness all the night long. Morning dawned at last, much to
his relief. When Mr. Barringer came to his door to announce breakfast,
he handed Willard the coveted piece of paper.

"Now then," said he, cheerily, "here is your certificate, and as I am
going to drive over to Albany after breakfast, if you have no particular
school in view, I shall be glad to have you ride with me as far as
Schodack Centre, where I have some very good friends, and will introduce
you to the trustees of the district, Messrs. Brockway, Hover and

Accordingly they drove over to the residence of Milton Knickerbocker,
school trustee of District No. 7, of the town of Schodack.

That gentleman thanked the School Commissioner for bringing the young
teacher over, said that he would be pleased to engage him, and that it
was only necessary to see another trustee, George Brockway, to make the
engagement final. Mr. Knickerbocker then accompanied young Glazier to
the residence of Mr. Brockway, where arrangements were made for him to
teach the school at Schodack Centre. He then walked back to Albany.

Willard had said nothing to his landlady, on Lydius street, concerning
his intended absence, fearing he might have to report the failure of his
project, and on the evening of his return to Albany--having been away
for thirty-six hours--was surprised to find that the family were just
about to advertise him in the city papers, thinking some strange fate
had befallen him,--that he had perhaps committed suicide.

In just one week from the time Glazier engaged his school at Schodack
Centre, he returned to that place, and taught the young Schodackers
successfully through the specified term, after which he went to Albany
and passed the next Normal School term. On the twelfth of July
following, he left Albany for the home farm, where he worked until the
first of September. He then went on a prospecting tour out to Edwards,
near the field of his former efforts, and canvassed for scholars at two
dollars each, for a term of eight weeks. His object was to teach during
the fall and winter months and return to Albany in the spring. This
energetic youth of eighteen succeeded in obtaining about thirty pupils,
among whom were six teachers--one of them having taught four terms.

Among the incidents of his school experience at this time may be
mentioned the fact of a series of drill tactics, originated by himself,
with which he practised his pupils so thoroughly that they were enabled
to go through all the regular evolutions set down in Hardee. Yet he had
never seen the drill-book.

It may be regarded as one of those outcroppings of his natural bent
towards the military art which he displayed from his very infancy; for
true military genius, like true poetical genius, is born, not made. Of
course our young tactician soon made himself known, and throughout the
district he was distinguished by the title of the "Soldier-Schoolmaster."

It was an involuntary tribute yielded by public sentiment to the boy who
afterwards became the "Soldier-Author."

This boy-teacher, young as he was, marshaled all his pupils into
disciplined order, like the rank and file of the army, and somehow held
natural words of command at his disposal whereby he wielded the human
material given into his charge, as a general might wield the forces
under his command. The school was his miniature world and he was its
master--his diminutive kingdom wherein he was king; and within the
boundary of this chosen realm his sway was absolute.

First the "Soldier-Schoolmaster," drilling his boy-pupils; then the
Soldier of the Saddle, riding through shot and shell and war's fierce
din on Virginia's historic fields; and last, but perhaps not least, the
"Soldier-Author," winning golden opinions from press and people; through
all these changes of his life, from boy to man, one characteristic shows
plain and clear--his military bent. It is like the one bright stripe
through a neutral ground, the one vein of ore deposit through the
various stratifications of its native rock.

The Edwards Select School was continued until the first of November,
when Glazier left home once more, this time in company with his sister
Marjorie, bound for Troy. On arriving at that city he left his sister at
the house of an old friend, Alexander McCoy, and went down into
Rensselaer County a second time in search of a school, or rather two
schools--one for his sister as well as one for himself. He succeeded in
obtaining both of them on the same day, and went back to Troy that
night. His own district was East Schodack, near Schodack Centre, where
he had previously taught, and his sister secured the school two miles
north of the village of Castleton and six miles distant from Albany.

The little school-house near Castleton, where his sister taught, was
located in a lovely spot on a height overlooking the Hudson and
commanding a fine view of the river and the surrounding scenery.

During the school term in their respective districts, it was Willard
Glazier's habit to visit his sister once a week, on Saturday or Sunday,
and on several occasions a gentleman living at East Schodack, William
Westfall by name, who owned a fine horse and sleigh, loaned him the use
of his conveyance to drive to Castleton and return. The sleigh was
provided with warm robes of fur and the horse was beyond doubt spirited,
and a handsome specimen of the genus horse. But as we cannot look for
absolute perfection in anything pertaining to earth, it may be stated
that this animal was no exception to the universal rule. He had his
fault, as young Glazier discovered--a disagreeable habit of running
away every time he saw a train of cars. Perhaps the horse couldn't help
it; it was no doubt an inherited disposition, descended to him through
long lines of fractious ancestors, and therefore it need not be set down
against him in the catalogue of wilful sins. But whether so or
otherwise, this little unpleasantness in his disposition was an
established fact, and unfortunately there were two railroads to cross
between East Schodack and Castleton. On Glazier's first ride to
Castleton with the Westfall horse and sleigh, he had just crossed the
Boston and Albany Railroad when a freight-train rolled heavily by, which
put the horse under excellent headway, and on reaching the Hudson River
Railroad--the two tracks running very near each other--a passenger train
came up behind him. This completed the aggregation of causes, and away
flew the horse down the road to Castleton at break-neck speed. Fences
disappeared like gray streaks in the distance; roadside cottages came in
view and were swiftly left behind in the track of the foam-flecked
animal. All that Glazier could do was to keep him in the road, until at
length an old shed by the roadside served his purpose, and running him
into it, the horse, puffing and snorting, was obliged to stop. On his
return to East Schodack, Mr. Westfall asked him how he liked the horse.
He replied that he thought the animal a splendid traveler. He _did_
think so, beyond question.

The next Sunday young Glazier was driving again to Castleton with the
same stylish turn-out; this time with his sister Marjorie in the sleigh.
She had come up to East Schodack the evening before, and he was taking
her back to her school. The sleighing was excellent, the day fine, and
all went merry as a marriage bell until they reached the railroad. There
the inevitable train of cars loomed in view, and the puff, puff of the
engine, sending out great volumes of steam and its wild screech at the
crossing, completely upset what few ideas of propriety and steady travel
this horse may have had in his poor, bewildered head, and, with a leap
and a jerk, he was once more running away on the Castleton Road as if
the entire host of the nether regions were let loose after him.

For a little while he made things around them as lively as a pot of
yeast. Away went whip, robes, mittens and everything else lying loose in
the bottom of the sleigh at all calculated to yield to the velocity of a
whirlwind or a runaway. But Glazier proved himself master of the
situation in this as in many another event of his life, and with one
hand holding his frightened sister from jumping out of the sleigh, with
the other he twisted the lines firmly around his wrist and kept the
horse in the road, until, at the distance of three-quarters of a mile
beyond Castleton, he brought the infuriated animal to a stand-still by
running him against the side of a barn. Afterwards he drove leisurely
back and picked up the robes, and whip and articles spilled during the
wild runaway ride.

A broken shaft was the only result of this last adventure, which Glazier
of course, put in repair before his return to East Schodack. Mr.
Westfall never knew until after the close of the school term that his
horse had afforded the young teacher an opportunity to tell what he knew
about runaways.

The school at East Schodack closed with an exhibition exceedingly
creditable to the efforts of the teacher, at which Mr. Allen Barringer
was present, and in a speech before the school complimented young
Glazier in the highest terms. The programme of exercises was an
excellent one, and was made up of original addresses, declamations,
recitations and music. After the close of the school, Mr. Barringer
presented Glazier with a certificate which entitled him to teach for
three years, and also gave him in addition the following letter of
recommendation--a tribute of which any young teacher might be justly
proud, and which he carefully preserved:

     "To Whom it May Concern:

     "This is to certify, that I am well acquainted with Willard
     Glazier, he having taught school during the winters of 1859 and '60
     in my Commission District. I consider him one of the most promising
     young teachers of my acquaintance. The school that has the good
     fortune to secure his services will find him one of the most
     capable and efficient teachers of the day.

                                                  "Allen Barringer,

                               "School Commissioner, Rensselaer County.

      "Schodack, New York, 1860."

Early in the year 1860 he resumed his studies at the State Normal
School, and remained at that institution until the guns of Sumter
sounded their war-cry through the land.

This period was the great turning-point in Willard Glazier's life, and
hereafter we encounter him in a far different _rôle_.



  The mutterings of war.--Enlistment.--At Camp Howe.--First
    experience as a soldier.--"One step to the front!"--Beyond
    Washington.--On guard.--Promotion.--Recruiting service.--The
    deserted home on Arlington Heights.--"How shall I behave in the
    coming battle?"--The brave Bayard.--On the march.--The stratagem
    at Falmouth Heights.--A brilliant charge.--After the battle.

The inevitable results of the discord so long pending between North and
South accumulated day by day; and when, at length, Abraham Lincoln was
elected by a large popular majority, that election was, as everybody
knows, immediately followed by the calling of a Southern States
Convention, the secession, one after another, of each of those States,
the capture of Fort Sumter, the killing of Ellsworth, and the defeat of
the Federal troops at Bull Run. All of these occurrences contributed to
inflame the passions, intensify the opinions, and arouse the enthusiasm
of the people of both sections to fever-heat.

It was in the whirl and torrent of this popular storm that Willard
Glazier was caught up and swept into the ranks of the Union army.

His regiment, the Harris Light Cavalry, was originally intended for the
regular service--to rank as the Seventh Regular Cavalry. The general
government, however, concluded to limit the number of their regiments of
horse to six--the reasons for which are given by Captain Glazier in
his "Soldiers of the Saddle," as follows:

"Under the military _régime_ of General Scott, the cavalry arm of the
service had been almost entirely overlooked. His previous campaigns in
Mexico, which consisted chiefly of the investment of walled towns and of
assaults on fortresses, had not been favorable to extensive cavalry
operations, and he was not disposed, at so advanced an age in life,
materially to change his tactics of war."

[Illustration: A Cavalry Column On The March.]

Hence, this regiment was mustered into service as the "Second Regiment
of New York Cavalry," and, as Senator Ira Harris had extended to the
organization the influence of his name and purse, it soon came to be
called the "Harris Light Cavalry," and retained that title throughout
the whole of its eventful career. The natural tastes of young Glazier
led him into this branch of the service in preference to the infantry,
and we find him writing to his sister Marjorie as follows:

                                    Camp Howe, near Scarsdale, New York,
                                            _August 16th, 1861_.

     My Dear Sister: From the post-mark of this letter you will at once
     conjecture the truth ere I tell it to you, and I can fancy you
     saying to yourself when you glance at it: "Willard is no longer
     talking about enlisting but has really entered the army." You are
     right, I now wear the Union Blue.

     Many of our home friends will doubtless wonder why I have
     sacrificed my professional prospects at a time when they first
     began to look cheering, in order to share the hardships and perils
     of a soldier's life. But I need not explain, to _you_, my reasons
     for doing so. When our country is threatened with destruction by
     base and designing men, in order to gratify personal ambition and
     love of sway, it becomes her sons to go to her rescue and avert the
     impending ruin. The rebelling South has yet to learn the difference
     between the _true principles_ of the Constitution and the
     _delusion_ of "State rights." It is as easy to die a volunteer as a
     drafted soldier, and in my opinion, is infinitely more honorable.
     I shall return to my studies as soon as the Rebellion is put down
     and the authority of our Government fully restored, and not _until_

     Let me give you a sketch of our movements thus far. Having reached
     Troy at 3 o'clock on the afternoon of the day you and I parted, I
     spent the remainder of the evening until 8 o'clock in the city. At
     that hour we embarked for New York, and the boys had a very
     exciting and enthusiastic time on board the steamer Vanderbilt.
     Wednesday was spent at 648 Broadway, Regimental Headquarters of the
     "Harris Light Cavalry;" and on that night we came by train to our
     present camp: or, rather, as near it as we could, for it is two
     miles from the nearest station. The spot is picturesque enough to
     be described. An old farm, surrounded by stone fences that look
     like ramparts, constitutes the camp. The Hudson and Harlem rivers
     are in full view, and the country around is full of beauty. On the
     first night we _bivouacked_ upon the bare sod, with no covering for
     our bodies but the broad canopy of heaven. It was not until a late
     hour on the following afternoon that our white tents began to dot
     the ground and gleam through the dark foliage of the trees.

     Crowds of visitors from the neighboring village come out every day
     to see us. My health was never better, and this sort of life
     affords me keen enjoyment. The very roughness of it is
     invigorating. My present writing-desk is the top of the stone wall
     I have alluded to, so you must criticise neither my penmanship nor
     my style. I received a letter from father on Tuesday afternoon,
     and, thank God! I enter the service with his full approbation. The
     discipline enforced here is strict, our rations are good, fruit is
     very abundant, and to be had for the asking; so that if you will
     only write soon and often, there will be little else required to
     fill the wants of

     Your affectionate brother, Willard.

Fortunately for their future comfort, the Harris Light Cavalry, at the
very outset of its military career, was placed under the charge of a
rigid and skilful disciplinarian--one Captain A. N. Duffiè--who, having
graduated honorably at the celebrated French military school, St. Cyr,
possessed all the martial enthusiasm as well as personal peculiarities
of his excitable countrymen.

The captain either was, or believed himself to be, an eloquent speaker,
and his efforts at rhetorical display, added to his French pronunciation
of English words, became a source of great amusement to the men. He was
wont to harangue them, as if they were about to enter upon a sanguinary
battle. The old stone walls of the peaceful farm were pictured as
bristling with the enemy's bayonets, and the boys were called on to
"charge" at the hidden foe and capture him.

"One morning," says Captain Glazier, "after a week spent in drill, we
were all surprised by receiving an order to 'fall into line,' and
discovered that the object of this movement was to listen to a
Napoleonic harangue from Captain Duffiè. So loud had been our protests,
so manifest our rebellious spirit on the subject of fortifying a
peaceful farm on the banks of the Hudson, that the captain undoubtedly
feared he might not be very zealously supported by us in his future
movements, and, like Napoleon on assuming command of the Army of Italy,
sought to test the devotion of his men. After amusing us a-while in
broken English, appealing to our patriotism and honor, he at length

"'Now, as many of you as are ready to follow me to the cannon's mouth,
take one step to the front!'

"This _ruse_ was perfectly successful, and the whole line took the
desired step."

The time passed pleasantly enough in this camp of instruction, despite
the monotony of drill and guard duty, and, by the time the order to
break camp reached the men, they were well advanced in the duties of the

The regiment left Camp Howe about the end of August, and, passing
through New York, entered that most beautiful and patriotic of cities,
Philadelphia, where they were royally entertained by the managers of the
"Volunteer Refreshment Saloon." They at length reached Washington and
encamped a half mile beyond the Capitol.

From this point Glazier writes to his mother as follows:

                                                         Camp Oregon,
                                                  Near Washington, D.C.,
                                                 _August 25th, 1861_.

     Dear Mother: I am at present seated under the branches of a large
     peach tree that marks the spot where two sentinels of our army,
     while on duty last night, were shot by the rebels. I was one of the
     same guard, having been assigned to such duty for the first time
     since entering the service. Like all other sentinels, I was obliged
     to walk my lonely beat with drawn sabre.

     It may interest you to know where I performed my first guard duty.
     It was in front of the residence of a rabid secessionist, who is
     now an officer in the famous Black-Horse Cavalry. You may remember
     that this regiment was reported to have been utterly destroyed at
     Bull Run, and yet I am informed by Washingtonians that it had but
     two companies in the fight. So much for newspaper gossip.

     During the day I was very kindly treated by the family of this
     gentleman, but in the evening our camp commander came to me and
     said: "Take this revolver, and if you value your life, be vigilant.
     _Remember, you are not at Scarsdale now!_" He, of course, referred
     to our old camp near Scarsdale, twenty-four miles from New York.
     Our present one is a little over half a mile from the Capitol, and
     from my tent I can see the dome of that building, glittering, like
     a ball of gold, in the sunlight.

     Yesterday I paid a visit to the city. The streets were crowded with
     infantry, artillery and cavalry soldiers, all actively engaged in
     preparing for the coming conflict. An engagement seems to be close
     at hand. Entrenchments are being dug and batteries erected in every
     direction. The citizens do not apprehend any danger from an attack
     by the enemy.

     My regiment has been attached to Brigadier-General Baker's
     Brigade. It will be three weeks to-morrow since I enlisted. I have
     been in this camp one week, and one week was spent at Camp Howe,
     Scarsdale, New York.

     We are being rapidly prepared for field service. Our drill is very
     rigid, yet I submit to the discipline willingly, and I find that
     hard study is as essential to the composition of a good soldier as
     to a good teacher. I have purchased a copy of the "Cavalry
     Tactics," and devote every leisure hour to its mastery. There is
     but one thing which gives me any serious annoyance now, and that is
     the question of the ways and means for the education of my brothers
     and sisters. I think Elvira and Marjorie had better teach this
     winter, and then, if the war should be concluded before next
     spring, I will make arrangements for their attendance at school
     again. With kindest love to all, I am

                       Your loving and dutiful son,


About two months more were occupied by the Harris Light in camp-duty,
scouting and foraging, but almost immediately after their arrival in
Virginia, young Glazier was promoted to the rank of Corporal. Shortly
after his promotion he was detailed for recruiting service and sent to
the city of New York for that purpose. The great city was in a turmoil
of excitement.

The "Tammany" organization carried things with a high hand, and was
opposed by the equally powerful Union League. Between these two centres
the current of public opinion ran in strong tides. But, in the midst of
it all, the young corporal was successful in his recruiting service, and
on the second day of December rejoined his comrades, who were then at
Camp Palmer, Arlington Heights.

This spot was one of peculiar beauty. Its associations were hallowed.
There stood the ancestral home of the Lees, whose deserted rooms seemed
haunted with memories of a noble race. Its floors had echoed to the
tread of youth and beauty. Its walls had witnessed gatherings of renown.
From its portals rode General Lee to take command of the Richmond
troops--a man who must be revered for his qualities of heart and
remembered especially by the North as one who, amid all the fury of
passion which the war engendered, was never betrayed into an intemperate
expression towards the enemy. _Now_, the halls and porches of the quaint
old building rang with the tread of armed men. Its rooms were despoiled,
and that atmosphere of desolation which ever clings about a deserted
home, enveloped the place. A winding roadway under thick foliaged trees,
led down the Heights to the "Long Bridge," crossing the Potomac. Near
the house stood an old-fashioned "well sweep" which carried a
moss-covered bucket on its trips down the well, to bring up the most
sparkling of water. Instinctively a feeling of sadness took possession
of the heart at the mournful contrast between the past and present of
this beautiful spot.

    "Ah, crueler than fire or flood
    Come steps of men of alien blood,
    And silently the treacherous air
    Closes--and keeps no token, where
    Its dead are buried."

The day of trial--the baptism of battle--seemed rapidly approaching.
General McClellan, having drilled and manoeuvred and viewed and reviewed
the Army of the Potomac, until what had been little better than an armed
and uniformed mob began to assume the aspect of a body of regulars,
determined upon an advance movement. Accordingly on the third of March,
1862, the army marched upon Centreville, captured the "Quaker" guns
and, much to the disgust of his followers, fell back upon his original
position, instead of continuing the advance.

As the Harris Light enjoyed throughout this campaign of magnificent
possibilities, the honor of being "Little Mac's" body guard, they were
of course during the forward movement in high spirits. They believed it
to be the initial step to a vigorous campaign in which they might hold
the post of honor. But when the order to fall back came, their
disappointment was great indeed. At first they were mystified, but it
soon leaked out that a council of war had been held and that McClellan's
plan of the Peninsular Campaign had been adopted.

It had also been determined that a section of the army should be left
behind, under the command of General Irvin McDowell, to guard the
approaches to Washington.

The First Pennsylvania Cavalry, under the command of General (then
Colonel) George Dashiel Bayard, and the Harris Light, remained with the
latter force. Under such a leader as Bayard, the men could have no fear
of rusting in inactivity. He was the soul of honor, the bravest of the
brave. No more gallant spirit ever took up the sword, no kinder heart
ever tempered valor, no life was more stainless, no death could be more
sad; for the day that was appointed for his nuptials closed over his

Judson Kilpatrick, one of those restless, nervous, energetic and
self-reliant spirits who believe in themselves thoroughly, and make up
in activity what they lack in method, was Colonel of the Harris Light,
and the dawning glory of young Bayard's fame excited a spirit of
emulation, if not of envy in his heart, which found vent in a very
creditable desire to equal or excel that leader in the field. The
brilliant night attack on Falmouth Heights was one of the first results
of this rivalry, and as it was also the initial battle in Corporal
Glazier's experience, we give his own vivid description of it as it is
found in "Three Years in the Federal Cavalry."

"Our instructions," he says, "were conveyed to us in a whisper. A
beautiful moonlight fell upon the scene, which was as still as death;
and with proud determination the two young cavalry chieftains moved
forward to the night's fray. Bayard was to attack on the main road in
front, but not until Kilpatrick had commenced operations on their right
flank, by a detour through a narrow and neglected wood-path. As the
Heights were considered well-nigh impregnable, it was necessary to
resort to some stratagem, for which Kilpatrick showed a becoming

"Having approached to within hearing distance of the rebel pickets, but
before we were challenged, Kilpatrick shouted with his clear voice,
which sounded like a trumpet on the still night air:

"'Bring up your artillery in the centre, and infantry on the left!'

"'Well, but, Colonel,' said an honest though rather obtuse Captain, 'we
haven't got any inf--'

"'Silence in the ranks!' commanded the leader. 'Artillery in the centre,
infantry on the left!'

"The pickets caught and spread the alarm and thus greatly facilitated
our hazardous enterprise.

"'Charge!' was the order which then thrilled the ranks, and echoed
through the dark, dismal woods; and the column swept up the rugged
heights in the midst of blazing cannon and rattling musketry.

[Illustration: Night Attack On Falmouth Heights.]

"So steep was the ascent that not a few saddles slipped off the horses,
precipitating their riders into a creek which flowed lazily at the base
of a hill; while others fell dead and dying, struck by the missiles of
destruction which filled the air. But the field was won, and the enemy,
driven at the point of the sabre, fled unceremoniously down the heights,
through Falmouth and over the bridge which spanned the Rappahannock,
burning that beautiful structure behind them, to prevent pursuit."

This engagement, while otherwise of but little importance, was valuable
because it taught the enemy that the Federals could use the cavalry arm
of the service as effectively as their infantry.

All accounts agree that Corporal Glazier acquitted himself very
creditably in his first battle. After the action was over he accompanied
his comrades to the field and contributed his best aid towards the care
of the wounded and the unburied dead. Such an experience was full of
painful contrast to the quiet scenes of home and school life to which he
had hitherto been accustomed. In his history, as with thousands of other
brave boys who missed death through many battles, this period was the
sharp prelude to a long experience of successive conflicts, of weary
marches seasoned with hunger, of prison starvation and the many
privations which fall to the lot of the soldier, all glorified when
given freely in the defence of liberty and country.



  The sentinel's lonely round.--General Pope in command of the
    army.--Is gunboat service effective?--First cavalry battle of
    Brandy Station.--Under a rain of bullets.--Flipper's
    orchard.--"Bring up the brigade, boys!"--Capture of Confederate
    prisoners.--Story of a revolver.--Cedar Mountain.--Burial of the
    dead rebel.--Retreat from the Rapidan.--The riderless
    horse.--Death of Captain Walters.

The Harris Light now entered upon exciting times, and Corporal Glazier,
ever at the post of duty, had little leisure for anything unconnected
with the exigencies of camp and field. At that period the men of both
armies were guilty of the barbarous practice of shooting solitary
sentinels at their posts, and no man went on guard at night without
feeling that an inglorious death might await him in the darkness, while
deprived of the power to strike a defensive blow, or to breathe a

On the twenty-second of July, 1862, a new commander was assigned the
Army of Virginia in the person of General John Pope. General McClellan
had lost the confidence of the Northern people by his continued
disasters, and was at length succeeded by General Pope, who was placed
at the head of the united commands of Fremont, Banks, McDowell (and
later in August), Burnside and Fitz-John Porter. General Pope commenced
his duties with a ringing address to the army under his command. Among
other things, he declared: "That he had heard much of 'lines of
communication and retreat,' but the only _line_ in his opinion, that a
general should know anything about, _was the line of the enemy's
retreat_." The _dash_ of such a theory of war was extremely
invigorating, and once more the hearts of the Northern people cherished
and exulted in the hope that they had found the "right man for the right
place." Popular enthusiasm reacted upon the army; their idol of
yesterday was dethroned, and they girded their loins for a renewal of
the struggle, in the full belief that, with Pope to lead them, they
would write a very different chapter upon the page of History, from that
which recorded their Peninsular campaign.

Here we desire to correct a statement, then current, regarding the value
of the gunboat service, viz., that McClellan's army was indebted for its
safety during the retreat from Malvern Hill to the gunboats stationed in
James River. That this was not the case is proven by the testimony of L.
L. Dabney, chief-of-staff to General T. J. Jackson. He says: "It is a
fact worthy of note, that the fire of the gunboats, so much valued by
the Federals, and, at one time, so much dreaded by the Confederates, had
no actual influence whatever in the battle. The noise and fury doubtless
produced a certain effect upon the emotions of the assailants, but this
was dependent upon their novelty. The loss effected by them was trivial
when compared with the ravages of the field artillery; and it was found
chiefly among their own friends. Far more of their ponderous missiles
fell within their own lines than within those of the Confederates.
Indeed, a fire directed at an invisible foe across two or three miles
of intervening hills and woods can never reach its aim, save by
accident. Nor is the havoc wrought by the larger projectiles in
proportion to their magnitude. Where one of them explodes against a
human body it does, indeed, crush it into a frightful mass, but it is
not likely to strike more men, in the open order of field operations,
than a shot of less weight; and the wretch blown to atoms by it is not
put _hors du combat_ more effectually than he whose brain is penetrated
by half an ounce of lead or iron. The broadside of a modern gunboat may
consist of three hundred pounds of iron projected by forty pounds of
powder, but it is fired from only _two_ guns. The effect upon a line of
men, therefore, is but one-fifteenth of that which the same metal might
have had, fired from ten-pounder rifled guns."

The truth of the matter is, that so far as offensive operations in
conjunction with that army were concerned, the gunboats were more
ornamental than useful; and it is not just that the modicum of glory
(mingled with so much of disaster), won fairly upon that occasion by the
land forces, should be awarded to another branch of the service.

General Pope was not permitted to remain long before an opportunity
offered for practically testing his war theories. McClellan's troops had
scarcely recovered breath after their retreat from before Richmond when
Lee, leaving his entrenchments, boldly threw himself forward and met
Pope and the Union forces, face to face on the old battle-ground of
Manassas. The Harris Light, prior to the second battle of Bull Run, had
been offered, and eagerly accepted, an opportunity to cross swords
with the "Southern chivalry," and the result now was a desperate
encounter at Brandy Station. The first action which baptized in blood
this historic ground took place August twentieth, 1862. About six
o'clock in the morning a heavy column of Stuart's cavalry was discovered
approaching from the direction of Culpepper, and Kilpatrick received
orders to check their advance. The Harris Light, acting as rear guard of
Bayard's brigade, kept the enemy in check until Bayard could form his
command at a more favorable point two miles north of the station.
Corporal Glazier was in the front rank of the first squadron that led
the charge, and repulsed the enemy. His horse was wounded in the neck,
and his saddle and canteen perforated with bullets.

[Illustration: Federal Canteens For Confederate Tobacco]

The fight at Flipper's Orchard preceded that at Brandy Station by more
than a month, having occurred on the Fourth of July. The Troy company of
the Harris Light had been ordered, about eight o'clock in the morning of
that day, to reconnoitre the Telegraph Road, south of Fredericksburg.
Leaving camp, they soon came in sight of a detachment of Bath cavalry on
patrol duty, escorting the Richmond mail. They learned the strength of
the enemy from some colored people along the route, and also the
probability that they would halt at Flipper's Orchard for refreshments.
This place was on the south bank of the Po River, some twenty miles from
Fredericksburg, in an angle formed by the roads leading to Bull Church
and the Rappahannock. After following them for several hours, the
company halted for consultation, "and," says Glazier, "our lieutenant
put the question to vote, whether we should go on and capture the foe,
about one hundred strong, or return to camp. The vote was unanimous for
battle. I was in charge of the advance guard, having a squad of four
men, and received orders to strike a gallop. Just as we came within
sight of the Orchard, we saw the Confederates dismounting and making
leisurely arrangements for their repast. Dashing spurs into our horses'
flanks, we wheeled round the corner and along the Bull Church Road,
sweeping down upon them with tremendous clatter. 'Here they are, boys!'
I shouted; 'bring up the brigade!' We were about forty in number, but
surprised them completely, and they fled panic-stricken. Twelve men and
nine horses were captured. On reaching Dr. Flipper's house, I noticed a
dismounted Confederate officer who, with others, was running across a
wheat-field. I started in hot pursuit, jumping my horse over a six-rail
fence to reach him. He fired upon me with both carbine and revolver, but
missed his mark, and by this time I stood over him with my
navy-revolver, demanding his surrender. He gave up his arms and
equipments, which were speedily transferred to my own person. We made
quick work of the fight, the whole affair lasting not longer than
fifteen minutes. The Confederate reserves were only a short distance off
at Bull Church, and we hurried back with our spoils towards the
Rappahannock, fearful that we might be overtaken. My prisoner, as I
afterward learned, was Lieutenant Powell, in command of the patrol. His
revolver has a story of its own. It was a beautiful silver-mounted
weapon, and I resolved to keep possession of it as my especial trophy,
instead of turning it over to the Quartermaster's Department. This was
not an easy matter, as vigilant eyes were on the look-out for all
'munitions of war captured from the enemy,' which were consigned to a
common receptacle. I therefore dug a hole in the ground of our tent and
buried my treasure, where it remained until we changed our encampment.
One day, some time after, I carelessly left it lying on a log, a short
distance from camp, and on returning found it gone. While I stood there
deploring my ill luck, I heard a succession of clear, snapping shots
just beyond a rise of ground directly in front of me, and recognized the
familiar report of my revolver. Going in the direction of the shots, I
rescued it from the hands of a sergeant by whom it had been temporarily
confiscated. After this adventure I concluded to incur no further risks
with the weapon, and so packed it in a cigar-box and sent it to my
sister Elvira."

The battle of Cedar Mountain, fought on the afternoon of August ninth,
1862, needs only a passing notice in connection with this record. The
battalion in which Corporal Glazier served acted as body-guard to
General McDowell, and arrived on the field just as the wave of battle
was receding. The following morning, on passing over the slopes of Cedar
Mountain, where the guns of General Banks had made sad havoc on the
previous day, a dead Confederate soldier, partially unburied, attracted
the attention of the troopers. At that period of the war a sentiment of
extreme bitterness toward the adversary pervaded the ranks on both
sides, and as the squadron swept by the men showered on the poor dead
body remarks expressive of their contempt. Corporal Glazier was an
exception. Moved by an impulse born of our common humanity, he returned
and buried the cold, stark corpse, covering it with mother Earth; and
when questioned why he gave such consideration to a miserable dead
rebel, replied, that he thought any man brave enough to die for a
principle, should be respected for that bravery, whether his cause were
right or wrong.

On the eighteenth of the month our cavalry relieved the infantry on the
line of the Rapidan, and on the nineteenth, in a sharp skirmish between
Stuart's and Bayard's forces, Captain Charles Walters, of the Harris
Light Cavalry, was killed. This officer was very popular in the
regiment, and his death cast a gloom over all. Wrapped in a soldier's
blanket his body was consigned to a soldier's grave at the solemn hour
of midnight. And while the sad obsequies were being performed, orders
came for the retreat to Culpepper.

    "We buried him darkly at dead of night,
      The sod with our bayonets turning,
    By the struggling moonbeam's misty light,
      And our lanterns dimly burning.

           *       *       *       *       *

    "Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
      On the field of his fame fresh and gory;
    We carved not a line, we raised not a stone,
      But left him alone with his glory."

[Illustration: Burial Of Captain Walters At Midnight,
During Pope's Retreat.]



  Manassas.--The flying troops.--The unknown hero.--Desperate attempt
    to stop the retreat.--Recruiting the decimated
    ranks.--Fredericksburg.--Bravery of Meagher's brigade.--The
    impregnable heights.--The cost of battles.--Death of
    Bayard.--Outline of his life.

The plains of Manassas still speak to us. The smoke of battle that once
hung over them has long since rolled away, but the blood of over forty
thousand brave men of both North and South who here met, and fighting
fell to rise no more, consecrates the soil. Between them and us the
grass has grown green for many and many a summer, but it cannot hide the
memory of their glorious deeds. From this altar of sacrifice the incense
yet sweeps heavenward. The waters of Bull Run Creek swirl against their
banks as of old, and, to the heedless passer-by, utter nothing of the
despairing time when red carnage held awful sway, and counted its
victims by the thousand; yet, if one strays thitherward who can listen
to the mystic language of the waves, they will reword their burden of
death and of dark disaster which "followed fast and followed faster,"
and at last overtook the devoted Northern army, and made wild confusion
and wilder flight.

No general description of the battle need be given here. That portion
only which concerns the subject of this biography, now promoted to the
rank of Sergeant, will be set in the framework of these pages.
Concerning the part which he took in the action, and which occurred
under his own observation, he says:

"On the eventful thirtieth--it was August, 1862--our artillery occupied
the crest of a hill a short distance beyond Bull Run Creek, the cavalry
regiments under Bayard being stationed next, and the infantry drawn up
in line behind the cavalry.

"A short time before the battle opened, I was sent to a distant part of
the field to deliver an order. An ominous stillness pervaded the ranks.
The pickets as I passed them were silent, with faces firmly set towards
the front, and the shadow of coming battle hovered portentously, like a
cloud with veiled lightnings, over the Union lines.

"It was the calm which precedes a storm, and the thunderbolts of war
fell fast and heavy when the storm at length broke over our heads. I had
just taken my place in the cavalry ranks when a shell from the enemy's
guns whizzed over our heads with a long and spiteful shriek. One of the
horses attached to a caisson was in the path of the fiery missile, and
the next instant the animal's head was severed entirely from his neck.
The deathly silence was now broken, and more shot and shell followed in
quick succession, plowing through the startled air and falling with
destructive force among the Union troops. This iron hail from the guns
of the enemy was composed in part of old pieces of chain and broken iron
rails, as well as the shot and shell ordinarily used. Our artillery soon
replied, but from some unexplained cause the Union troops in this
portion of our line broke and fled in panic before a shot had been fired
from the muskets of the enemy. This battle, like the first Bull Run,
had been well planned, and every effort which good generalship and good
judgment could dictate in order to insure success, had been made by
Generals Pope and McDowell.

"At this crisis of affairs, the cavalry under Bayard and Kilpatrick were
ordered to the rear, to stem, if possible, the tide of retreat, but the
effort was well nigh fruitless. Regiment after regiment surged by in one
continuous and almost resistless wave. A cheer was heard to go up from
the Confederate ranks as Stuart's cavalry charged us, and though we
returned the charge it did not stop the panic which had taken possession
of our troops.

"One of its causes was undoubtedly the supposition that the enemy was
executing a flank movement on our left. In forty-five minutes from the
beginning of the battle, this part of the army was in full retreat; but
the determined stand made by Heintzelman, and also one or two heroic
attempts to stop the backward-surging wave, saved our forces from utter
rout and possible capture.

"As soon as the Union batteries were taken by the enemy, they were
turned upon us, in addition to their own guns, and afterwards, on came
Stuart in a head-long charge with one of those hideous yells peculiar to
the Southern 'chivalry.' With thousands of others who were rapidly
retiring, I had recrossed Bull Run Creek when my attention was arrested
by a mounted officer who sprang out from the mass of flying men, and
waving his sword above his head, called on every one, irrespective of
regiment, to rally around him and face the foe. He wore no golden
leaf--no silver star. He was appealing to officers higher in command
than himself, who, mixed with the crowd, were hurrying by. His manner,
tense with excitement, was strung up to the pitch of heroism, and his
presence was like an inspiration, as he stood outside the mass, a mark
for the bullets of the enemy.

"I halted, filled with admiration for so noble an example of valor, and
then rode rapidly towards him. Seeing me, he galloped forward to meet me
and asked my aid in making a stand against the enemy.

"'Sergeant,' said he, 'you are just in time. As you are mounted, you can
be of great service in rallying these men for a stand on this ground.'

"'Lieutenant,' I replied, 'they will not listen to the wearer of these

"'Tear off your chevrons,' said this unknown hero,--'the infantry will
not know you from a field officer--and get as many men to turn their
muskets to the front as you can.'

"Lieutenant,' I responded, 'I will do all I can to help you,' and the
insignia of non-commissioned rank was immediately stripped from my

"I put myself under his command and fought with him until he gave the
order to retire. While he was talking with me he was at the same time
calling on the men to make a stand, telling them they could easily hold
the position. He seemed to take in the situation at a glance.

"The enemy having advanced to the first crest of hills, were throwing
their infantry forward with full force, and with the three thousand or
more of men who rallied around this heroic officer, a stand was made on
the rising ground north of Bull Run from which the advance of the enemy
was opposed. We held this position for half an hour, which gave
considerable time for reorganization.

"While riding along the line, helping my unknown superior as best I
could, my horse was shot--the first experience of this kind which had
befallen me.

"Just as the disaster was occurring which culminated in retreat, General
McDowell, on his white horse, galloped up to the guns behind which
Heintzelman was blazing destruction on the Confederates. Alighting from
his horse he sighted the guns and gave a personal superintendence to
this part of the action. An artillery captain, standing by his battery
while his horses were shot down, his pieces in part disabled, and the
infantry deserting him, shed tears in consequence.

"'You need not feel badly over this affair,' said the general, 'General
McDowell is responsible for this misfortune. Stand by your guns as long
as you can. If the general is blamed, _your_ bravery will be praised.'

"Was there a touch of irony in this remark which met in advance the
grumblings and questionings of the future? Was it the sarcasm of a man
who, having done his utmost, could not yet prevent disaster, and who
knew that an unthinking public sometimes measured loyalty by success?

"Later in the day our regiment--the 'Harris Light Cavalry'--lost a
squadron. Most of them were killed.

"In the deepening twilight we charged the enemy just as they were
forming for a similar attack on us. They were compelled to halt, and
Pope was thus enabled to discover their position and arrange for the
next day's defence.

"On the night of the thirtieth, the enemy occupied the battle-field and
buried the dead of both armies. And thus it was that Bull Run again ran
red with patriot blood and witnessed the retreat of the Union

"By what strange fatality General Pope was allowed to struggle on alone
against an army twice the size of the Federal force, has not been
satisfactorily explained. One is almost tempted to believe, with
astrologists, that baleful stars sometimes preside with malign influence
over the destinies of battles, as they are said to do over individuals
and nations."

After the battle of Manassas, the Harris Light Cavalry was so reduced in
numbers that it was ordered into camp at Hall's Hill, near Washington,
with a view of recruiting its wasted strength and equipment. They
remained at that point until November, when they were again moved
forward to form the principal picket line along the front, prior to the
Federal disaster at Fredericksburg.

Burnside, having strongly secured the mountain passes in the
neighborhood, in order to conceal from Lee his real object, made a
_feint_ in the direction of Gordonsville; but the keen eye of the
Confederate generalissimo penetrated his true design and took measures
to defeat its accomplishment. Upon the eighth of this month, a lively
encounter between the Harris Light and a detachment of Confederate
cavalry resulted in the defeat of the latter, and soon after, the
regiment joined the main army.

As all know, the battle of Fredericksburg was fought and lost during the
three days intervening between the thirteenth and sixteenth of December.
Burnside's gallant army, in the midst of darkness, rain and tempestuous
wind, came reeling back from a conflict of terrible ferocity and
fatality. Six times in one day Meagher's gallant Irishmen were literally
hurled against Marye's Heights, a point of almost impregnable strength,
and which, even if carried, would still have exposed them to the
commanding fire of other and stronger Confederate positions.

Twenty times had charge and counter-charge swept the tide of battle to
and fro--at what terrible cost, the killed and wounded, strewing the
ground like leaves in the forest, made answer. Twelve thousand men lay
dead on the field when the battle ended, and one thousand prisoners were
taken, besides nine thousand stand of arms.

Although this battle seems to have been well planned by General
Burnside, a want of capacity to meet unforeseen emergencies doubtless
contributed to his defeat. He committed a fatal error at a critical
moment, by sending General Franklin an equivocal _recommendation_,
instead of an _order_ to attack the enemy in force. The enemy, however,
though having nobly held their ground, could not boast of having
advanced their lines by so much as a foot. There were, indeed, but few
even of the Confederate officers, who knew they had been victorious, and
the amazement of their army was beyond description when the gray dawn of
the fourteenth of December revealed the deserted camps of the Federals,
who had withdrawn their entire command during the night to the north
side of the river.

Had General Franklin brought his men into action, as he should have
done, at the critical moment when the issue of the fight was trembling
in the balance, the fortunes of this day would have terminated
differently. Had the splendid divisions of brave Phil. Kearney or
"Fighting Joe Hooker" been ordered into the arena, and lent the
inspiration of their presence to this hour of need, the scales of
victory would have turned in an opposite direction.

The "might have beens" always grow thickly on the soil of defeat.

Among the lamented dead of this day's havoc, no loss was more keenly
felt than that of Major-General George Dashiel Bayard. He was standing
among a group of officers around the trunk of an old tree, near the
headquarters of Generals Franklin and Smith, when the enemy suddenly
began to shell a battery near by, and one of the deadly missiles struck
this gallant leader. He was carried to the field-hospital, mortally

Quietly turning to the surgeon who examined his ghastly wounds, he asked
"if there was any hope." On being informed that there was none, he
proceeded with undisturbed composure, and without a murmur of pain, to
dictate three letters. One of these was to his affianced bride. This
day, it was said, had been appointed for his wedding. The time-hands
marked the hour of eight when this letter was finished, and, as he
uttered its closing words, his spirit fled from the shattered body and
left it only cold and tenantless clay. He was but twenty-eight years of
age, of prepossessing appearance and manners, with as brave a soul as
ever defended the flag of the Union, and a capacity for military
usefulness equal to any man in the service. Gradually he had arisen
from one position of honor and responsibility to another, proving
himself tried and true in each promotion, while his cavalry comrades
especially were watching the developments of his growing power with
unabating enthusiasm.

Briefly, the outlines of his history are as follows:

He was born December eighteenth, 1835, at Seneca Falls, New York, from
whence, in 1842, he removed with his parents to Fairfield, Iowa. From
this place he went to the Dorris Military Institute at St. Louis,
Missouri, where he remained eighteen months.

The family then removed to the East, and settled at Morristown, New
Jersey. From Morristown, he entered West Point Academy. When twenty
years of age, he graduated with the highest honors, and, strange to say,
it was through the offices of Jefferson Davis, then Secretary of War,
that he was at once assigned to a cavalry regiment as second lieutenant.
His subsequent career, so full of brilliance and the true spirit of
heroism, is better known to the country.

Watered by the dews of hallowed remembrance, his fame, as a sweet
flower, still exhales its fragrance, and finds rich soil in the hearts
of the people.

    "How sleep the brave who sink to rest,
    By all their country's wishes blest?
    When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
    Returns to deck their hallowed mould,
    She there shall dress a sweeter sod
    Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.

           *       *       *       *       *

    "By fairy hands their knell is rung,
    By forms unseen their dirge is sung,
    There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,
    To bless the turf that wraps their clay.
    And Freedom shall awhile repair,
    To dwell a weeping hermit there."



  "What boots a weapon in a withered hand?"--A thunderbolt
    wasted.--War upon hen-roosts.--A bit of unpublished history.--A
    fierce fight with Hampton's cavalry.--"In one red burial
    blent."--From camp to home.--Troubles never come singly.--The
    combat.--The capture.--A superfluity of Confederate
    politeness.--Lights and shadows.

While the events we have narrated were occurring, the "Harris Light" was
not idle. Under the command of their favorite Kilpatrick, they made a
dashing raid, and completely encircled the rebels under Lee, penetrating
to within seven miles of Richmond. Such duties as were assigned them
were effectively performed, and yet, General Hooker's object in
detaching his cavalry from the main army remained unaccomplished, either
by reason of General Stoneman's want of comprehension, or want of
energy. This general, instead of hurling his thirteen thousand troopers
like a thunderbolt upon the body of the Confederates, divided and
frittered away the strength under his command by detaching and
scattering it into mere scouting parties, to "raid on smoke-houses and
capture hen-roosts." General Hooker was very naturally exasperated by
this conduct. The detachment from the main army of such a splendid body
of horse, was a measure he had taken after mature deliberation, and with
the view of cutting off Lee's communications with Richmond; thus
precluding the possibility of his being reinforced during the grand
attack which Hooker contemplated upon that leader at Chancelorsville.

The Federal general attributed the loss of that battle in a great degree
to Stoneman's failure to carry out the spirit of his orders. In a letter
to the author, long after that field of carnage had bloomed and
blossomed with the flowers and fruits of Peace, when the heart-burning
and fever engendered by the contest had subsided, and it was possible to
obtain access to men's judgments, General Hooker wrote: "Soon after
Stonewall Jackson started to turn my right (a project of which I was
informed by a prisoner), I despatched a courier to my right corps
commander informing him of the intended movement, and instructing him to
put himself in readiness to receive the attack. This dispatch was dated
at nine o'clock A. M., and yet, when 'Stonewall' did attack, the men of
this corps had their arms stacked some distance from them, and were
busily engaged in cooking their supper. When the attack came these men
ran like a flock of sheep. _This_, in a wooded country, where a _corps_
ought to be able to check the advance of a large army. To make this more
clear, I must tell you that the corps commander, General Howard,
received the dispatch while on his bed, and, after reading it, put it in
his pocket, where it remained until after the battle of Gettysburg,
without communicating its contents to his division commander, or to any
one!!! My opinion is that not a gun of ours was fired upon Stonewall
Jackson's force until he had passed nearly into the centre of my army.
Judge, if you can, of the consternation throughout that army caused by
this exhibition of negligence and cowardice. One word more, in regard to
the cavalry. I had to have, under the seniority rule of the service, a
wooden man for its commander. If you will turn to the first volume of
the Report of the Committee on the Conduct of the War, you will find my
instructions to General Stoneman, and then you will see the mistake that
I made in informing him of the strength and position of the enemy he
would be likely to encounter on his raid, as that officer only made use
of the information to avoid the foe. He traveled at night, made
extensive detours, and did not interrupt the traffic on the railroads
between Lee's army and Richmond for a single day. As he was charged to
make this duty his especial object of accomplishment over all others, he
had twelve thousand sabres, double the force the enemy could collect
from all quarters. I had men enough with me to have won Chancelorsville
without the cavalry and other corps, but of what use could a field of
battle have been to me when the enemy could fall back a few miles and
post himself on a field possessing still greater advantages to him?
General Grant did this, and is entitled to all the merit of his
soldiership from a grateful country. I believe if he had sacrificed
every officer and soldier of his command in the attainment of this
object, the country would have applauded him. When I crossed the
Rappahannock I aimed to capture General Lee's whole army and thus end
the war, by manoeuvring, and not by butchery."

While his superior in command did little that was practically useful
with the cavalry, Kilpatrick covered his little band with glory, and
gave the people of Richmond, a scare as great as Stuart administered to
our Quaker friends in Pennsylvania during his famous foray into the
border counties of the Keystone State.

Their return was almost immediately followed by the second grand cavalry
battle of Brandy Station, June ninth, 1863, a struggle as hotly
contested as any that occurred during the war. In this encounter
Sergeant Willard Glazier took part, leading the first platoon of the
first battalion that crossed the Rappahannock. Matters were now assuming
a warlike aspect. The Valley of the Shenandoah groaned beneath the tramp
of the main army of the Confederacy, under Lee. The Federal general,
Pleasanton, and the Confederate general, Stuart, were in fierce conflict
among the Blue Ridge mountains.

[Illustration: Sergeant Glazier At Aldie. "Come On Boys! One
Charge, And The Day Is Ours."]

At Aldie, on the seventeenth of June, 1863, the "Harris Light" led the
division under Kilpatrick, Glazier's squadron again being the advance
guard--his place at the head of the long column which wound down the
road. As they came upon Aldie, the enemy's advance, under W. H. F. Lee,
was unexpectedly encountered. But Kilpatrick was equal to the occasion.
Dashing to the front, his voice rang out, "Form platoons! trot! march!"
Down through the streets they charged, and along the Middleburg Road,
leading over the low hill beyond. This position was gained so quickly
and gallantly that Fitzhugh Lee, taken by surprise, made no opposition
to the brilliant advance, though immediately afterward he fought for two
hours to regain the lost position, while the guns of his batteries
blazed destruction upon the Federal cavalry. The latter, however,
handsomely repelled the attack.

On the crest of the hill there was a field of haystacks, inclosed in a
barricade of rails. Behind these the enemy occupied a strong position,
and their sharp-shooters had annoyed Kilpatrick's lines to such an
extent as to prevent their advance on the left. It was well known to
the officers of the "Harris Light" that their regiment had not met
Kilpatrick's expectations on the field of Brandy Station, and on the
morning of this battle they had asked their general for "an opportunity
to retrieve their reputation." This chance came soon enough. Kilpatrick,
ordering forward a battalion of the "Harris Light," and giving the men a
few words of encouragement, turned to Major McIrvin and pointing to the
field of haystacks, said: "Major, there is the opportunity you ask for!
Go take that position!" Away dashed the "Harris Light," and in a moment
the enemy was reached and the struggle began. The horses could not leap
the barricade, the men dismounted, scaled the barriers, and with drawn
sabres rushed furiously upon the hidden foe, who quickly called for
quarter. Aldie was by far the most bloody cavalry battle of the war. The
rebel "chivalry" was beaten; Kilpatrick from this moment took a proud
stand among the most famous of the Union cavalry generals, and the fame
of the regiment was greatly enhanced. To quote our young soldier in
"Battles for the Union:" "Many a brave soul suffered death's sad eclipse
at Aldie, and many escaped the storm of bullets when to escape was
miraculous. In looking back upon that desperate day, I have often
wondered by what strange fatality I passed through its rain of fire
unhurt; but the field which brought a harvest of death to so many others
marked an era in my own humble, military history, which I recall with
pride and pleasure, for from the Battle of Aldie I date my first
commission. The mantle of rank which fell from one whom death had
garnered on that ground dropped upon my shoulders, and I was proud and
grateful to wear it in my country's service. I feel proud also of having
been a participant in the 'Battle of the Haystacks,' where the glorious
squadrons of the 'Harris Light' swept into the mad conflict with the
same invincible bravery that distinguished them on the field of Brandy
Station. Every soldier of the saddle who there fought under Kilpatrick
may justly glory in the laurels won at Aldie."

In the same month followed the engagements of Middleburg and Upperville,
in each of which the "Harris Light" participated with great éclat,
charging in face of the enemy's guns, forming in platoon under fire, and
routing him in splendid style. At Upperville, Kilpatrick received orders
to charge the town. With drawn sabres and shouts which made the
mountains and plains resound, they rushed upon the foe. The encounter
was terrific. The enemy's horse were driven through the village of
Paris, and finally through Ashby's Gap upon their own infantry columns
in the Shenandoah Valley. At Rector's Cross-Roads, where Kilpatrick
ordered the "Harris Light" to charge the enemy's battery, as they were
forming, a fatal bullet pierced Glazier's horse, and it fell dead under
him. Fortunately he was not dragged down in the fall, and as he struck
the ground a riderless horse belonging to an Indiana company came up.
Its owner, a sergeant, had been shot dead, and, rapidly mounting,
Lieutenant Glazier rode forward with his regiment as they valiantly
charged the enemy's position.

These actions were succeeded by the battle of Gettysburg (July first,
second and third), in which the disasters of Chancelorsville and
Fredericksburg were fully retrieved, and the rebel army, under Lee,
received a blow so staggering in its effects as to result in a loss of
prestige, and all hope in the ultimate success of their cause. Prior to
this battle the Confederates had warred upon the North aggressively;
thenceforward they were compelled to act upon the defensive. During the
progress of this great and (so far as the ultimate fate of the
Confederacy was concerned) decisive battle, the cavalry, including the
brigade to which our subject was attached, performed brilliant service.
They held Stuart's force effectually at bay, and while the retreat of
the rebel army was in progress their services were in constant
requisition. On the first day of the battle, General John Buford,
commanding the Third Cavalry Division, was in position on the
Chambersburg Pike, about two miles west of the village. Early in the
forenoon the vanguard of the rebel army appeared in front of them, and
our dauntless troopers charged the enemy vigorously, and drove them back
upon their reserves.

The second day of the battle was spent by the cavalry in hard, bold and
bloody work, in collision with their old antagonists, Stuart, Lee and
Hampton. Charge succeeded charge; the carbine, pistol and sabre were
used by turns; the artillery thundering long after the infantry around
Gettysburg had sunk to rest exhausted with the carnage of the weary day.
Stuart, however, was driven back on his supports, and badly beaten.

Upon the third day the sun rose bright and warm upon the bleached forms
of the dead strewn over the sanguinary field; upon the wounded, and upon
long, glistening lines of armed men ready to renew the conflict. Each
antagonist, rousing every element of power, seemed resolved upon victory
or death. Finally victory saluted the Union banners, and with great loss
the rebel army sounded the retreat. "Thus," says Glazier in his "Battles
for the Union"--"the Battle of Gettysburg ended--the bloody
turning-point of the rebellion--the bloody baptism of the redeemed
republic. Nearly twenty thousand men from the Union ranks had been
killed and wounded, and a larger number of the rebels, making the
enormous aggregate of at least forty thousand, whose blood was shed to
fertilize the Tree of Liberty."

During this sanguinary battle; the cavalry were in daily and hourly
conflict with the enemy's well-trained horse under their respective
dashing leaders. The sabre was no "useless ornament," but a deadly
weapon, and "dead cavalrymen" and their dead chargers, were sufficiently
numerous to have drawn forth an exclamation of approval from even so
exacting a commander as "Fighting Joe Hooker." Haggerstown, Boonsboro',
Williamsport and Falling Waters, all attested the great efficiency of
the cavalry arm, and at the end of the month it was an assured,
confident and capable body of dragoons, that, according to Captain
Glazier, "crossed the Rapidan for, as they believed, the purpose of a
continued advance movement against the enemy."

And here, parenthetically, we may observe, that he, and other recent
writers (Mr. Lossing being an exception), are scarcely accurate in so
designating the river crossed by them as the Rapidan. It was the _chief
tributary of the Rappahannock_, while two sister streams, which together
form the Pamunkey, are known to local topography as the North and South
Rapid Anna rivers.

It was a pleasant locality, and the "Harris Light" encamped there for
several weeks, having no occupation more exciting or belligerent than
picket duty. Duties of a more stirring character, were, however,
awaiting them, and as these are intimately associated with the career of
the subject of this biography, the delineation of whose life is the
purpose of the writer, we will give them something more than a cursory

We will first, however, take the opportunity of introducing a letter
from our young cavalryman to his parents, illustrative in some measure
of his intelligence and soldierly qualities, while it is no less so of
his sense of filial duty:

                                  Headquarters Harris Lgt. Cavalry,
                                     Near Hartwood Church, Virginia,
                                             _August 22d, 1863_.

     Dear Father and Mother:

     Another birthday has rolled around, and finds me still in the army.
     Two years have passed since we were lying quietly in camp near
     Washington. Little did I think at that time that the insurrection,
     which was then in process of organization, was of such mighty
     magnitude as to be able to continue in its treacherous designs
     until now. Newspaper quacks and mercenary correspondents kept facts
     from the public, and published falsehoods in their stead.
     Experience has at last taught us the true state of things, and we
     now feel that the great work of putting down the rebellion is to be
     accomplished only by energy, perseverance and unity. Our cause
     never looked more favorable than to-day. It is no longer a rumor
     that Vicksburg and Port Hudson have fallen, but a stern reality, an
     actual and glorious victory to our arms, and a sure exposure of the
     waning strength of the ill-fated Confederacy. Charleston and Mobile
     must soon follow the example of the West, and then the Army of the
     Potomac will strike the final blow in Virginia.

     Kilpatrick's cavalry is now watching the movements of the enemy on
     the Rappahannock--his head-quarters being near Hartwood Church. I
     have seen nothing that would interest you much, save a few
     expeditions among the bushwhackers of Stafford County.

     It may not be uninteresting to you to learn that I have just been
     promoted to a lieutenancy, my commission to date from the
     seventeenth of June. I have received four successive promotions
     since my enlistment. Your son can boast that his Colonel says he
     has earned his commission. Political or moneyed influence has had
     nothing to do with it. I have been in command of a platoon or
     company ever since the thirteenth of last April, and have very
     frequently been in charge of a squadron. I conclude by asking you
     to remember me kindly to all my friends,

                         And believe me, as ever, your dutiful son,

It will be remembered that the greater part of the spring of this year
(1863), that is, from the time the Federal army moved from its
winter-quarters in Stafford and King George counties, and all the early
summer, were passed by the belligerent forces in efforts to compel their
adversaries to fall back on their respective capitals. The people and
the press on both sides were clamoring for the accomplishment of
_something definite_, and when Vicksburg fell, and on the stricken field
of Gettysburg, victory perched upon the Union banners, our hopes seemed
on the point of realization, but the fall of the leaf found the hostile
armies still confronting each other. Lee's force, though fearfully
shattered, maintained its organization, and to all appearance had lost
little of its former self-confidence. General Meade, perhaps the most
scientific strategist of all the generals who had held the chief command
of the Army of the Potomac, was severely criticised, simply because he
declined by "raw Haste, half-sister to Delay," to hazard the ultimate
fruition of his well-laid plans; and Captain Glazier, it must be
admitted, was one of his adverse critics. We think the censure was
uncalled for. Wellington had but one Waterloo, and although to him was
due the victory, it was the fresh army of Blucher that pursued the
retreating French, and made defeat irretrievable. But whenever Lee, or
McClellan, Jackson, or Meade obtained a hard-earned victory, the people,
on either side, were dissatisfied because their triumph was not followed
up by, at once and forever, annihilating the foe!



  A situation to try the stoutest hearts.--Hail Columbia!--Every man
    a hero.--Kilpatrick's ingenuity.--A pen-picture from "Soldiers of
    the Saddle."--Glazier thanked by his general.--Cessation of
    hostilities.--A black day.--Fitzhugh Lee proposes to crush
    Kilpatrick.-"Kil's" audacity.--Capture of Lieutenant
    Glazier.--Petty tyranny.--"Here, Yank, hand me that thar hat, and
    overcoat, and boots."

At this period of the war, the Cavalry Corps was separated into three
divisions. Buford with his division fell back by the way of Stevensburg,
and Gregg by Sulphur Springs; leaving Kilpatrick with the brigades of
Custer and Davies, which included the "Harris Light," on the main
thoroughfare along the railroad line. "No sooner," says Glazier, "had
Kilpatrick moved out of Culpepper, than Hampton's cavalry division made
a furious attack upon the 'Harris Light,' then acting as rear-guard,
with the evident design of breaking through upon the main column to
disperse, or delay it, so as to enable a flanking force to intercept our
retreat. Gallantly repelling this assault, the command, on the eleventh
of October, advanced to Brandy Station, where an accumulation of
formidable difficulties threatened our annihilation." It appears that
Fitzhugh Lee, with the flower of the Confederate cavalry, held
possession of the only road over which it was possible for Kilpatrick to
retire, while Stuart, at the head of another body of cavalry, supported
by artillery well posted along a line of hills, completely covered the
Federal left. His right was exposed to a galling fire from
sharp-shooters hidden behind the forest; "while just behind them was
Hampton's legion threatening speedy destruction to its surrounded foe."
Here was a situation to try the stoutest hearts. Nothing daunted,
however, by this terrific array of an enemy very much his superior in
numbers, Kilpatrick displayed that decision and daring which ever
characterized him. "His preparations for a grand charge," for he had
determined to cut his way out of this _cul-de-sac_, "were soon
completed. Forming his division into three lines of battle, he assigned
the right to General Davies, the left to General Custer; and placing
himself, with General Pleasanton, in the centre, advanced with terrible
determination to the contest. Approaching to within a few yards of the
enemy's lines, he ordered the band to strike up a national air, to whose
stirring strains was added the blast of scores of bugles ringing out the
'charge.' Brave hearts became braver, and weak ones waxed strong, until
'pride of country had touched this raging sea of thought, and emotion
kindled an unconquerable principle that affirmed every man a hero until
death.'" The troops filled the air with their battle-cry, and hurled
themselves on their unequal foe. "So swiftly swept forward this tide of
animated power that the Confederates broke and fled, and Kilpatrick thus
escaped a disaster which had seemed inevitable."

"No one"--we quote from "Soldiers of the Saddle,"--"who looked upon that
wonderful panorama, can ever forget it. On the great field were
riderless horses and dying men; clouds of dirt from solid shot and
bursting shells, broken caissons, and overturned ambulances; and long
lines of dragoons dashing into the charge, with their drawn and firmly
grasped sabres glistening in the light of the declining sun; while far
beyond the scene of tumult were the dark green forests skirting the
distant Rappahannock."

[Illustration: Lieutenant Glazier At Brandy Station. "Come
On, Boys! We Must Break That Line."]

In this action Glazier, who occupied the post of volunteer aide to
General Davies, had his horse shot under him, received a sabre-stroke on
the shoulder, two bullets in his hat, and had his scabbard split by a
shot or shell. His conduct was such as to obtain for him the thanks of
his general and a promise of early promotion. This was the fourth battle
of Brandy Station in which the Harris Light Cavalry had been engaged.
The first occurred on August the twentieth, 1862, the second on June
ninth, the third on September twelfth, and this last action on October
eleventh, 1863. They were followed by a number of spirited engagements
between the Federal cavalry and the cavaliers of the South--the former
under Generals Buford and Kilpatrick, and the latter under Stuart and
Wade Hampton. In all of these both sides behaved gallantly, the result
being the masterly retreat of the Federals across the Rappahannock to
the old battle-ground of Bull Run, where they made a protracted halt.

From this time until the fifteenth of October, nothing of sufficient
importance transpired to require mention here. Upon that day an
indecisive battle was fought at Bristoe Station, which was followed by
another calm that continued until the nineteenth of October--a black day
in the calendar of Willard Glazier's life.

Far away among the peaceful hills of his native State there fell upon
his father's house a sorrow such as its inmates had never known before.
Not that this family had escaped the ordinary bereavements of human
life. On the contrary, two little children had been taken from them at
intervals of time which seemed to them cruelly brief. But the death of
an infant, while a sad, is a beautiful thing to witness. There is no
flower that blooms on a baby grave that does not speak to the world-worn
heart, of _Immortality_. The grief, therefore, is gentle in its touch.
But with the ebb of a maturer life the sorrow is of a different
character, and when the physician announced to this worthy couple that
their daughter, Elvira, would die, they were stunned by the blow, and
when the event came "they refused" like Rachel "to be comforted." The
child that is going from us is, for the time, the favorite, and these
afflicted parents could not realize that she who had grown up among
them, the ewe lamb of their flock, could be torn from their loving arms,
and go down, like coarser clay, to the dark grave. She was so good, so
gentle, so loving to her kindred, that their simple hearts could not
understand how God could let her die, in the very bloom and beauty of
her maidenhood. But though crushed, they bowed their heads in
submission. Their hearts were almost broken, but they rebelled not
against the Hand that chastened them. Why is it that such examples of
tender feeling and unquestioning faith are seldom found in cities? Is it
that "the memories which peaceful country scenes call up, are not of
this world; nor of _its_ thoughts and hopes?" That "their gentle
influences teach us how to weave fresh garlands for the graves of those
we love, purify our thoughts, and beat down old enmities and hatreds?"
And that "beneath all this there lingers in the least reflective mind,
a vague and half-formed consciousness of having held such feelings long
before, which calls up solemn thoughts of distant times to come, and
bends down pride and worldliness before it?" The physician had said that
Elvira would not live another day, and the mother sat down to the sad
task of writing the mournful news to her soldier son. Meanwhile beyond
the Rappahannock, a scene was on the eve of being enacted, which was
destined to inflict upon her a pain as poignant as that she was, now
about to bestow.

The night of October eighteenth was passed by Kilpatrick's command at
Gainesville, but the first faint streak of dawn saw him and his faithful
followers in the saddle, booted, spurred, and equipped for some
enterprise as yet unexplained to them, but evidently, in their leader's
estimation, one of "pith and moment." At the word of command, the force,
including the "Harris Light," moved forward at a quick trot, taking the
road to Warrenton, and anticipating a brush with Stuart's cavalry who,
during the previous ten hours, had thrown out videttes in their
immediate front.

The surprise of the Federals was great to find their advance unimpeded,
and that, instead of offering opposition, the Confederates fell back as
rapidly as their opponents approached. On they dashed, unopposed and
unobstructed, until Buckland Mills was reached. At this point they found
themselves checked, and in a manner that somewhat astounded them. As
they arrived within a stone's throw of that village, Fitzhugh Lee, with
his magnificent following, struck their flank. That astute and valiant
officer, it appears, had cut his way through the Federal infantry at
Thoroughfare-Gap, and accompanied by a battery of flying artillery,
swept down upon Kilpatrick, designing to crush him at a blow. General
Stuart, taking in the situation, and keenly anxious to profit by the
advantage thus afforded him, instantly turned upon and charged the
Federals in his front, while, as if to make their utter annihilation a
certainty, the rebel General Gordon, with a third body of men (his
proximity at that moment not being suspected), bore down fiercely on
their left, threatening to cut Kilpatrick's division in two.

Kilpatrick possessed an extraordinary amount of ingenuity in devising
means of escape from a dangerous position. In the present case his plan
was formed in an instant, and executed as soon as formed. He immediately
changed his front, and, without the slightest hesitation, headed a mad
and desperate charge upon Fitzhugh Lee's advancing column. The merit of
the movement lay in its audacity; it was the only one that promised the
remotest chance of escape to the entrapped Federals. Executed with great
rapidity and desperate decision, the movement resulted in the salvation
of the greater portion of his command. It so happened, however, that the
"Harris Light," originally, be it remembered, forming the vanguard of
Kilpatrick's force, was by this manoeuvre thrown round upon the rear,
and Stuart, who was now the pursuer instead of the pursued, had a fine
opportunity of attacking them with his full force, at a great
disadvantage to the former--an opportunity he was not slow to avail
himself of.

Kilpatrick's men met the assault manfully, retiring slowly, until at
length, upon the brow of a small hill, they turned at bay, and for a
time formed a living rampart between their retreating comrades and the
enemy. Every attempt to approach and penetrate their line proved instant
death to their assailants, and General Stuart, seeing no chance of
otherwise dislodging them, determined to charge in person, and crush
them with an entire division. Glazier, who had already emptied two
saddles, sat coolly upon his horse, reloading as this formidable body
came sweeping down. By this time, experience of the vicissitudes of a
soldier's career, and possibly the fact that he had hitherto been very
fortunate in the numerous conflicts in which his regiment had been
engaged, left him quite composed under fire. Singling out one of
Stuart's men, he covered that cavalier with his revolver, and probably,
in another instant, would have ended his career; but, just as his finger
gave the final pressure upon the trigger, his horse, riddled with
bullets, fell dead under him, the shot flew wide of its mark, and he
fell to the ground.

[Illustration: Cavalry-fight At New Baltimore--lieutenant Glazier
Taken Prisoner.]

His first sensation was of a dense cloud between himself and the sky,
and next of being crushed by tramping hoofs, whole squadrons of horse
passing over his body as he lay prone and helpless. A vague, dreamy
sensation of being a mass of wounds and bruises was succeeded by utter
darkness and oblivion. How long he continued in this comatose state he
never knew. Raised from the ground, a terrible sense of acute bodily
pain gradually crept over him, as he found himself hurried along at a
rapid pace. Where he was going, who had him in charge, what he had done,
whether he was in this or some other world, were matters of which he
had no more conception than the dead charger he had ridden. Pain, pain,
nothing but intense pain, absorbed the whole of his faculties. Gradually
his full consciousness returned. He remembered the fierce onset of the
enemy, his fall from his horse, and at once concluded that he was a
prisoner in the hands of the enemy! Very soon after, he discovered that,
in addition to being deprived of his arms, he had been stripped of his
watch and other valuables.

One of the great annoyances to which a newly captured prisoner was
subjected, arose from the fact that skulkers and sneaks, in order to
secure safe positions, coveted and sought the privilege of quartering
them. In his own words Glazier says:

"The woods in the vicinity were full of skulkers, and, in order to make
a show of having something to do, they would make their appearance in
the rear of the fighting column, and devote themselves sedulously to
guarding the prisoners." He adds, that "privates, corporals and
sergeants, in turn, had them in charge;" and that "each in succession
would call them into line, count them in an officious manner, and issue
orders according to their liking," until some sneak of higher rank came
along, assumed the superior command, and in a tone of authority, would
say to the other poltroons: "Gentlemen, your services are much needed at
the front. Go, and do your duty like soldiers." The result would be an
exchange of tyrants, but no diminution of the petty tyranny. At dusk the
prisoners were marched to, and lodged in, the jail at Warrenton.

Like all Federal soldiers who fell into the enemy's hands, Glazier
complains very bitterly of the small persecutions inflicted by the
officers and men of the Home Guard, and unfortunately these mongrels--a
cross between a civilian and a soldier--were their chief custodians
during that night, and signalized themselves after their fashion. They
deprived the prisoners of their clothing, and, in truth, everything of
the slightest value in the eyes of a thief. One of these swashbucklers
attempted to reduce our young hero's wardrobe to an Arkansas basis,
namely, a straw-hat and a pair of spurs, with what success the following
dialogue, taken mainly from "The Capture, Prison-Pen, and Escape," will

"Here, Yank," said the guard, "hand me that thar hat, and over-coat, and

"No, sir, I won't; they are my property. You have no right to take them
from me."

"I have," said the guard. "We have authority from General Stuart to take
from you prisoners whatever we d----d choose."

"That I doubt," said the captive, "and if you are a gentleman you won't
be guilty of stripping a defenceless prisoner."

"I'll show you my authority, you d----d blue-belly," said the ruffian,
drawing his revolver. "Now, take off that coat, or I'll blow your brains

By this time Glazier's Northern blood was up, and he grew desperate, so
he angrily answered:

"Blow away then! It is as well to be without brains as without

So the fellow, who was evidently a contemptible blusterer, whom General
Stuart, had he been aware of his conduct, would have drummed out of the
army, not willing to risk the consequences of actual violence--sneaked

While this little incident was occurring at Warrenton jail, a very
different event was transpiring at his father's house. His sister was
dying. It was a peaceful, hopeful death--the death of a Christian--of
one who in her young life had never by word or deed injured man or
woman. Many weeks elapsed before her imprisoned brother heard of her
death, and when the intelligence at length reached him, he was
overwhelmed with grief at her loss.

Upon the morning following the day of his capture, in that dense
darkness that precedes the dawn, the prisoners started on their tramp
toward Culpepper, and as the day broke, and the sun mounted above the
eastern hills, their march, which extended to full thirty miles, became
a weary and exhausting journey. Themselves on foot, and compelled to
keep up with the pace of mounted men, it was a tiresome task; but to do
so under the burning rays of a Southern sun was nearly impossible. To
make matters worse, in the present case, the Confederates having
sustained a defeat at Bristoe and Rappahannock Station, the guard was
not in the most amiable humor; in addition to which they were compelled
to use haste in order to avoid capture by the victorious Federals.
Glazier gave no thought to his present discomfort, and to use his own
words, "felt relieved when he heard of the successes of his comrades."
Still the annoyance of this compulsory tramp was felt keenly. The
prisoners "being encumbered with heavy high-heeled cavalry boots," and
their feet having become tender from contact with the mud and water
through which they marched, soon became a mass of blisters, and their
sufferings from this cause alone were intense. Six of the poor fellows
succumbed, unable to proceed. After a journey attended with much mental
depression, and bodily agony, the former increased by the barbarous
contumely flung at them by men who emerged from roadside inns, to stare
at them as they passed, the prisoners, including the subject of our
story, entered Richmond, and were at once introduced to the amenities of
"Libby Prison."



  "All ye who enter here abandon hope."--Auld lang syne.--Major
    Turner.--Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.--Stoicism.--Glazier
    enters the prison-hospital.--A charnel-house.--Rebel
    surgeons.--Prison correspondence.--Specimen of a regulation
    letter.--The tailor's joke.--A Roland for an Oliver.--News of
    death.--Schemes for escape.--The freemasonry of misfortune.--Plot
    and counter-plot.--The pursuit of pleasure under difficulties.

It does not come within the scope of the present work to enter into a
detailed description of the sufferings of the Union prisoners in this
place of durance: those who have a taste for such gloomy themes may
gratify it by reading the first work by our young soldier-author,
entitled "The Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape," in which the horrors of
that house of misery are eloquently described. We may, however, say this
much, that if the testimony of eye-witnesses is to be credited, it was a
fearful place, and one over whose portals the words of Dante might have
been appropriately inscribed, "All ye who enter here abandon hope."

[Illustration: Libby Prison.]

Of some thousand Northern officers confined here, Glazier, of course,
met several from his own corps, who had been previously captured. He at
first felt his condition very acutely. His roving life amid the
magnificent scenery of Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania was now
exchanged for the gloomy and monotonous routine of a prison; but he
writes under date of October twenty-eighth, in a more reconciled and
hopeful strain "I am gradually," he says, "becoming accustomed to this
dungeon life, and I presume I shall fall into the habit of enjoying
myself at times. 'How use doth breed a habit in a man.' Indeed he can
accommodate himself to almost any clime or any circumstance of life, a
gift of adaptation no other living thing possesses in any such degree."
Of one man, in the midst of all his philosophy, our hero speaks very
bitterly. We allude to Major Turner, military warden of the prison. He
describes him as possessed of a vindictive, depraved, and fiendish
nature, and moralizes over the man and his career in this wise:

"There is nothing more terrible than a human soul grown powerful in sin,
and left to the horrible machinations of the evil one, and its own evil
promptings. Demons developed from germs that might have produced
seraphs, become rank growths, drinking in the healthful stimulants of
life and reproducing them in hideous forms of vice and crime.

    "'Souls made of fire, and children of the sun,
    With whom revenge is virtue.'

"Thus we see a soul coming pure and plastic from its Maker's hand, yet
afterward standing before the world, stained and hardened."

Slowly and wearily the days and weeks passed on in "Libby," leaving its
drear monotony unbroken, except when the rumor of a prospect of being
exchanged came to flush the faces of the captives with a hope destined
not to be fulfilled while Willard Glazier was in Richmond. The result
was that he at length abandoned all hope of being exchanged, and for a
time tried hard to cultivate and "grow into the luxury of indifference."
His experience told him that "however reprehensible" it might be in
ordinary life, "stoicism, under the circumstances in which he then found
himself, was an actual necessity." His mind appears at this time to have
sustained him under many extreme bodily privations. But despite all his
philosophy and cultivated resignation of spirit, despite the mental
resources which he fortunately possessed in no small degree, and which
enabled him to occupy his time profitably, while others were pacing up
and down the room like caged beasts, feeding upon their own hearts, his
bodily health was materially impaired. The first winter month, with its
frosty atmosphere, and fierce northern blasts, instead of bringing
invigoration to his wasted frame, left him more debilitated; and upon
the eighth of December he succumbed to a disease which had been
encroaching upon him for some time, and requested to be sent to the
hospital. His sensations were far from pleasant when, for the first time
in his life, he found himself seriously ill among enemies, and in that
most dismal of all dismal places, a Prison Infirmary. "Once in the
hospital," he writes, "I found myself soon subjected to its peculiar
influences. There was the ominous stillness, broken only by the choking
cough, or labored groan; the chilling dread, as though one were in the
immediate presence of death, and under the ban of silence; and the
anxious yearning--the almost frantic yearning one feels in the
contemplation of suffering which he is powerless to alleviate. And worse
than all, at last came the hardened feeling which a familiarity with
such scenes produces. This is nothing but an immense charnel-house. We
are constantly in the midst of the dead and dying. Nearly every day some
of our comrades, and on some days several of them, are borne away
coffinless and unshrouded to their unmarked graves. Nor flower, nor
cross, nor hallowed token, gives grace to the dead, or beauty to the
grave. I am well aware that in time of war, on the field of carnage, in
camp, where the pestilential fever rages, or in the crowded prisons of
the enemy, human life is but little valued. Yet there are moments amidst
all these scenes, when the importance of life and the terrors of death,
seem to force themselves upon the mind of every man, with a power which
cannot be resisted."

It is pleasant to find that here, as generally in the world with members
of the learned professions, the surgeons were humane and kind; and
remonstrated with the authorities whenever remonstrance on behalf of the
poor sufferers was needed. Of course they could not "minister to a mind
diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow," or,

    "With some sweet oblivious antidote, cleanse
    The choked bosom of that perilous stuff
    That weighs upon the heart;"

but gracious words and sympathizing looks, and the consciousness that he
was once more in the hands of _gentlemen_, were a source of great
comfort to the patient, after having been brought into daily and hourly
contact with the familiars of Major Turner. Another gratifying
circumstance was, that the Federal surgeons held as prisoners were
permitted to attend upon their sick comrades when they expressed a wish
to do so, and that, of course, was very frequently. Even an hospital has
its little events, which although they appear very trifling in the
retrospect, are of considerable importance at the time of their
occurrence. Here these little episodes were not infrequent. At one time
it was the destruction of a box of dainties sent by the Federal Sanitary
Commission for the prisoners; at another, it was the excitement incident
to an exchange of the surgeons held in captivity; and again, it was the
surreptitious acquisition by some of the patients of a daily newspaper,
and the guarded dissemination of such items as it might contain among
his fellow-sufferers; but greatest of all in importance was the receipt
of a letter from HOME. Even when surrounded by all the incidents of home
life, the postman is ever a welcome visitor; but in the midst of such a
dreary captivity as these men were undergoing, a letter from _home_ was
like a message from heaven.

Their correspondence had, however, its sad as well as its cheerful
aspect. The prisoners were restricted in writing their letters to six
lines, by an arbitrary order from Major Turner, and much ingenuity was
exercised in the effort to crowd into these six lines the thousand and
one messages which many of the writers desired to send to mothers,
wives, sisters and sweethearts. Here is a genuine specimen of a
"regulation" letter from a fond husband to the wife of his bosom:

     My Dear Wife: Yours received--no hope of exchange--send
     corn-starch--want socks--no money--rheumatism in left
     shoulder--pickles very good--send sausages--God bless you--Kiss the
     baby--Hail Columbia! Your devoted husband,

                                                               A. D. S.

But the "rule of six" was successfully evaded for a considerable time,
by the manufacture and use of invisible ink. The trick was however at
last discovered, and the way in which Glazier tells the story is so
amusing, that we are tempted to give it in his own words:

"A certain captain writing to a fair and undoubtedly dear friend, could
not brook the idea of being limited to six lines, when he had so much to
communicate; so resorting to the use of invisible ink, he comfortably
filled the sheet with 'soft and winning words,' and then fearing lest
his _inamorata_ would not discover the secret he added this postscript:

"'P.S.--Now, my dear, read this over, and then bake it in the oven and
read it again.'

"This was too much. The rebels thinking if the letter would improve by
baking it might be well to improve it at once, accordingly held it over
the fire. This brought to light four closely written pages of the
tenderest and most heart-rending sentiment."

Ever after all letters sent out by the prisoners were carefully
inspected and subjected to the "ordeal by fire," so that, to use the
expressive language of an old soldier, "that game was played."

Among Glazier's fellow-prisoners at this time was a certain Major
Halsted. He was one of those social anomalies that are not infrequently
met with in this country, a man of obscure origin, a member of a very
humble calling, prior to entering the army, and yet possessing the
personal appearance and manners of a man of distinction. He really
belonged to that terribly maligned craft of whose followers it is
popularly said, "It takes nine to make a man,"--he was a tailor. Upon
this fact some of the little wits of the prison, forgetting that one of
the bravest of Napoleon's generals, and one of the most intrepid of
America's sons, had each followed the same occupation, were in the habit
of jokingly asking him to repair their old and dilapidated clothes.

When this jest was first indulged in, those who knew the undaunted
spirit and somewhat irascible temper of the major, expected to hear him
blaze out upon the perpetrator of the _mauvaise plaisantrie_, or
possibly knock him down. To their surprise, however, he did neither. For
a single moment a gleam of passionate wrath shot up in his eyes, but it
was instantly suppressed, and he joined in the laugh against himself.
Seeing, however, that the victim of the joke did not appear at all
disturbed or hurt, other, better-natured fellows followed in the wake,
and the jest of asking the major to patch a pair of breeches or mend a
coat, became somewhat threadbare by repetition.

It happened, however, that one day the rebel surgeon accidentally tore
his coat across the breast, and turning to Major H. said, he would give
him a bottle of wine if he would repair it. "Yes, sir," said the major,
"if you will furnish me with a needle, thread, and a few other
indispensables, I will take the whole suit and make it look very
different." He added, "the fact is, I would rather do anything than rust
in idleness in this d----d prison." Finding that he spoke seriously, and
as if it were an ordinary business, the Confederate sawbones, who had a
lively appreciation of Yankee handicraft, accepted the offer, and all
next day the major was hard at work clipping and scouring and pressing
the surgeon's uniform, every now and then the owner thereof passing by
and smiling approval; and it was remarked that his face wore that
complacent expression common to all good men when they have furnished
employment for idle hands--and it is not going to cost them anything.

The same evening, however, when the work, so neatly done, was finished,
the major very quietly slipped it upon his own dignified person, and
taking with him a fellow-prisoner as "hospital steward," coolly walked
past the guard, remarking, to the great consternation of that personage,
"My friend, there are unmistakable indications of _cerebro-spinal
meningitis_ in your eyes. Come over to the hospital as soon as you are
relieved, and I will see what can be done for you," walked out into the
street, and neither he nor the "hospital steward" was heard of again
until they reached the Federal lines.

The devices resorted to, to effect an escape, were as ingenious as they
were numerous, and for a short time the most popular and successful
_ruse_ was for the prisoners to get into the hospital, simulate death,
and, while left unguarded in the dead-house, to escape. The difference,
however, between the tally of the deaths and the burials ultimately
attracted the attention of the authorities, and that was stopped.

It will be remembered that while young Glazier was fighting his last
fight prior to his capture upon the nineteenth of October, the family at
home were gathered around his sister's dying bed, when her gentle spirit
winged its flight to Heaven. From that day until the twenty-ninth of
November, he had received no news of his family, and consequently, up
to that time, was ignorant of her decease. It had been his habit during
the weary hours of his prison life, to overcome the tendency to despair
from brooding over his misfortunes--which is common to all human beings
in trouble--to fix his thought upon the loved ones at home. His
imagination constantly conjured up pictures of his parents, his sisters
and brothers, and placed them amid the rustic surroundings of his
boyhood's home. Even while in the hospital, and tossing with fever upon
his bed, the visions which haunted him were not visions of red-handed
war, but of quiet country life, where his kindred filled their several
spheres of duty. He had never thought of them, except collectively.
Although he had, from time to time, felt apprehensive that "Elvi" was
somewhat delicate, he never had the slightest fear that her life was
thereby endangered. Hence, when the sad news arrived, it came as a
terrible surprise. His sisters had been the objects of his peculiar
care. The relation he had borne to them, young as he was, was that of a
father, as well as brother. He never wearied of devising plans for their
intellectual improvement. He made it his peculiar care that they should
be thoroughly educated, and that, while intellectually robust, none of
the soft down and bloom of true womanhood should be brushed away in the
process. They were his memory's "good angels" even in sleep; for what
must have been his dreams in the midst of such surroundings, if he had
not had them to think of!

The shock on thus learning of his sister's death was a very great one to
young Glazier, and his reflections for a time were bitter. He alludes
to the subject himself in this way: "In the very midst of death I am
permitted to drag out a weary life, while dear ones in a land of health,
freedom and plenty are struck down by the fatal shaft. Her death
occurred on the nineteenth of October, the very day of my capture. I was
thrust into prison, and doubly bound to the groveling discomforts of
earth, while _she_ was released from the prison-house of clay, and
received, I believe into the joyous, freedom of Heaven. Our lives are
all in the hands of Him who doeth all things well. He appoints us a
period of existence, and appoints a moment to depart. All other
influences are subordinate to His will. 'What can preserve our lives,
and what destroy!'"

From the moment he realized that he was in the hands of the enemy, after
the battle of New Baltimore, Glazier had made up his mind to exercise
sleepless vigilance in seeking for opportunities of escape. He pondered
over the matter until he became a complete enthusiast in his efforts to
master the minute details of the construction and topography of the
place of his confinement, and, by the exercise of that natural
freemasonry which enables kindred spirits to recognize each other, soon
effected an understanding upon the subject with certain of the more
daring of his companions in misfortune. One of these gentlemen was a
Lieutenant Tresouthick, an officer of the Eighteenth Pennsylvania
Cavalry. In order to comprehend the plan which they finally determined
to carry out, it will be necessary to premise that Libby Prison was a
three-story structure, built over very ample cellarage; that the stories
were each divided into three compartments, as was the cellar; and that
these spaces were all of equal size in length and breadth. For the
purpose of conveying a clear conception of the _locus in quo_ of the
proposed effort, the reader should also be informed that the hospital
occupied the first floor; that Lieutenant Tresouthick was one of the
occupants of the room immediately above it; and that there were sinks
built against the exterior wall of the same height as each story, and
running the entire length of the building. The lieutenant's plan was,
that "he should feign sickness and get into the hospital," says our
hero, in describing the scheme; "and that I, in the meanwhile, should,
with a saw-backed knife, cut a board out of the sink large enough to let
us through." This looked feasible enough, and the two conspirators were
beginning to felicitate themselves upon their approaching freedom, when
they discovered that any such opening as they proposed, would let them
out "directly opposite the guard," so _that_ plan had to be dropped.
Glazier then proposed a plan of operations, promising better and safer
results. It was, that Tresouthick should still carry out his original
idea of a feigned sickness and consequent admission to the hospital;
that he (Glazier) should procure a piece of rope, eight or ten feet
long, and then, "some dark, rainy night," the pair should "steal down
into the basement"--the outer doors of which were "not locked until ten
o'clock"--and await their opportunity. That, when they once reached the
exterior of the building, and the sentry's back was turned, they should
rush past him on either side, and, with the rope, trip him up, in the
hope of being beyond the reach of his musket before he could fire. This
was approved by the lieutenant, and they made up their minds to try it.
Of course, it was necessary that Lieutenant Tresouthick's illness should
come on very gradually, and progress naturally from bad to worse, until
he became a fit subject for the hospital, so that some time was occupied
in preliminary preparations before any steps could be taken for the
execution of their plan.

Meanwhile, through the kindness of one of the surgeons, young Glazier
was furnished with some reading matter, a very great luxury to a man in
his situation and of his tastes. In his more serious hours he re-read
the Bible, and committed to memory daily a portion of "Saint Matthew's
Gospel;" and for relaxation read "Napoleon and his Marshals." This with
an occasional game at chess, checkers, or dominos, games in which the
invalids were permitted to indulge, made the hours pass much more
pleasantly than those spent in the convalescent department. It is true
their chess-board was made with chalk upon the floor, the "men" being
pieces wrought out of bone saved from their soup, and the "checkers" old
buttons ripped from their scanty wardrobe. But these rude implements
afforded as much real sport as if they had been constructed of ivory or
gold. The scene must at all times have been grimly grotesque in this
place, for all the trades and professions had their representatives
there, and the lawyers held mock courts, politicians formed caucuses,
gamblers started a square game of faro, and even some ministers of the
gospel gathered together a few of the prisoners each day, who listened
to words of hope and comfort from their lips.

On the eighth of December Glazier made this note in his diary: "Getting
into the hospital is no easy matter, but Tresouthick is becoming more
and more sick, and has good hopes." But

    "The best o' plans o' mice and men
    Gang aft aglee;"

and all hope of escape for our two worthies was interrupted by the
inconvenient fact that a couple of their comrades anticipated them in
point of time, and by so doing aroused the guards to such a state of
vigilance, that our over-sanguine boys saw there was no chance for them.
Consequently Lieutenant Tresouthick's illness vanished as it had come,
and he was soon pronounced convalescent.



  Mournful news.--How a brave man dies.--New Year's Day.--Jolly under
    unfavorable circumstances.--Major Turner pays his
    respects.--Punishment for singing "villainous Yankee
    songs."--Confederate General John Morgan.--Plans for
    escape.--Digging their way to freedom.--"Post No. 1, All's
    well."--Yankee ingenuity.--The tunnel ready.--Muscle the trump
    card.--No respect to rank.--_Sauve qui peut!_--A strategic
    movement.--"Guards! guards!"--Absentees from
    muster.--Disappointed hopes.--Savage treatment of prisoners.--Was
    the prison mined?

The Richmond papers occasionally found their way into the hands of the
prisoners, and the following mournful item of news is transcribed from
one of them. The writer of the ensuing letter was a man about thirty
years of age, who was accused by the rebel authorities of having acted
as a spy on behalf of the Union government. A gloom hung over the prison
for some days after the reading of the article:

                                     Castle Thunder, Richmond, Virginia.

     Dear Father:--By permission and through the courtesy of Captain
     Alexander, I am enabled to write you a few lines. You, who before
     this have heard from me in regard to my situation here, can, I
     trust, bear it, when I tell you that my days on earth are soon

     Last Saturday I was court-martialed, and this evening, a short time
     since, I received notice of my sentence from Captain Alexander,
     who has since shown me every kindness consistent with his duty.

     Writing to my dear parents, I feel there can be no greater comfort
     after such tidings, than to tell you that I trust, by the mercy of
     our Heavenly Father, to die the death of a Christian.

     For more than a year, since the commencement of my confinement, I
     have been trying to serve him in my own feeble way, and I do not
     fear to go to Him.

     I would have loved to see you all again; God saw best not; why
     should we mourn? Comfort your hearts, my dear parents, by thoughts
     of God's mercy unto your son, and bow with reverence beneath the
     hand of Him who "doeth all things well."

     * * * I sent a ring to my wife by a clergyman, Monday last; I also
     sent a telegram to yourself, which will arrive too late, as the
     time of my execution is set for the day after to-morrow.

     Dear parents: there are but few more moments left me; I will try to
     think often of you; God bless and comfort you; remember me kindly
     and respectfully to all my dear friends and relatives. Tell Kitty I
     hope to meet her again. Take care of Freddy for me; put him often
     in remembrance of me.

     Dear mother, good-bye. God comfort you, my mother, and bless you
     with the love of happy children. Farewell, my father; we meet again
     by God's mercy.

                                                        Spencer Kellogg.

The following account of the execution is from a Richmond paper:

"At eleven o'clock yesterday forenoon, a detail of one hundred men from
the City Battalion, marched from Castle Thunder with Spencer Kellogg,
the recently condemned spy, in custody.

"The cavalcade reached the scene of execution about half-past twelve
o'clock, where, as usual, a vast concourse of people, of both sexes and
all ages, were congregated. After a few moments spent in preliminary
arrangements, the prisoner was escorted, under guard, to the gallows.
While seated in the hack awaiting the perfection of the arrangements for
his execution, he conversed freely with the utmost _nonchalance_ with
Dr. Burrows, frequently smiling at some remark made either by himself or
the minister.

"Arriving under the gallows, the charges preferred against the accused
and the sentence of the court-martial were read. A short but impressive
prayer was then offered by the minister, at the conclusion of which the
condemned man, unaccompanied, mounted the scaffold.

"In a few moments Detective Capehart followed, and commenced to adjust
the rope over the neck of the condemned, in which he assisted, all the
while talking with the officer. On taking off his hat, to admit the
noose over his head, he threw it one side, and falling off the scaffold,
it struck a gentleman beneath, when the prisoner turned quickly, and
bowing, said: 'Excuse me, sir!'

"A negro next came on the scaffold with a ladder, and proceeded to
fasten the rope to the upper beam, the prisoner meanwhile regarding him
with the greatest composure. The rope being fastened, the negro was in
the act of coming down, when the prisoner, looking up at the rope,
remarked: 'This will not break my neck! It is not more than a foot fall!
Doctor, I wish you would come up and arrange this thing!' The rope was
then rearranged to his satisfaction, and the cloth cap placed over his

"The condemned man then bowed his head, and engaged a few seconds in
prayer, at the conclusion of which he raised himself, and standing
perfectly erect, pronounced in a clear voice: 'All ready!'

"The drop fell, and the condemned man was launched into eternity!"

Kellogg is said by his captors to have died with the conviction that he
had furnished more valuable information, in the character of a spy, to
the Federal government than any other ten men in the service. But this
has been denied by his friends at the North, who assert that he was
innocent of the charge.

With baseless rumors of a soon-to-be-effected cartel of exchange; the
drawing of lots for the selection of hostages, upon whom the Confederacy
proposed to retaliate for the punishment inflicted upon three
Confederates by the Federal authorities who had sentenced them to
imprisonment in the Illinois State Prison; listening to yarns spun by
real or pretended veterans; playing games of chance; holding spirited
debates; reading letters from home; occasionally poring over the
newspaper procured by stealth; or meditating plans of escape--the
balance of the year 1863 wore on to its close, and still Willard Glazier
was a prisoner of war, with no prospect whatever of a speedy release.
Then came New-Year's Day, 1864, and some little attempt was made to get
up a New-Year's dinner--though no extra rations had been issued. They
did their best, however, like Mark Tapley, to be "jolly under
unfavorable circumstances."

Nothing occurred out of the usual routine until the twenty-fourth of
January, when, as the prisoners, including Glazier, were singing "The
Star-Spangled Banner," "Rally Round the Flag, Boys," etc., the door
leading into the street was suddenly flung open, and a squad of armed
men filed in. Turner was at their head, and quickly crossing the room
and placing himself at the door leading up-stairs, to prevent any of the
prisoners from making their escape, began: "Now you d----d boisterous
scoundrels, I'll teach you to begin your d----d howling in this building
again. I want you to understand that you must not drive people crazy out
in the streets with your villainous Yankee songs." He then turned to his
men and ordered them to "Take their stations around the d----d rascals,
and shoot the first man that dared to stir out of his tracks." Having
completed which arrangement, he added to his helpless victims: "Now,
d--n you, stay here until twelve o'clock to-night, and make a bit of
noise or move from your place, if you dare." And he kept them there
until the appointed hour, standing and in silence. "The fires went out
early in the evening, and the cold became intense. Some managed to get
blankets from their friends," in the apartment above, "but the guards
soon put a stop to that. One man called down to a friend through a
knot-hole in the floor, asking him if he wanted a blanket. The guard
heard him, cocked his gun, and aimed at the hole; but a call from below
gave the man warning and he fled." And all this for singing a song
written by a Southerner, in praise of the flag under whose ægis Major
Turner was nurtured and received his military education! It is quite
possible that a song identified with the cause of their supposed enemy
might have produced a commotion among the ignorant rabble in the street,
and hence it is perhaps unfair to blame the commander of the prison for
prohibiting the loud singing, which partook somewhat of the nature of
defiance; but he could certainly have attained his object as effectually
in a manner becoming an officer and a gentleman. Even the victims of the
First French Revolution were permitted to express in song through the
bars of the Temple sentiments of utter scorn for their enemies, and
when the Jacobins in their turn marched to the guillotine they did so,
singing the "Marseillaise."

A great sensation was created among the prisoners on the twenty-fifth of
the month on account of a visit made to "Libby" by the famous raider,
General John Morgan, whom Glazier describes as a "large, fine-looking
officer, wearing a full beard and a rebel uniform, trimmed with the
usual amount of gold braid;" but something far more interesting than the
visit of any man, however famous, began to absorb the attention of our
imprisoned hero at this time. He had never ceased to rack his brain with
schemes looking to his escape. A life of captivity was indescribably
wearisome to him. He not only taxed his own ingenuity in the effort to
discover some feasible plan, but eagerly entered into the schemes of
others. The result, however, so far as he was individually concerned,
was by no means in accordance with his hopes; but, as he has given the
details in his "Capture, Prison-Pen, and Escape," we cannot do better
(even at the risk of quoting from that work more freely than we had
intended) than to let our readers have it in his own words, thus:

"Early in the winter, Colonel Thomas E. Rose, of the Seventy-seventh
Pennsylvania Volunteers, conceived a plan of escape, and organized a
secret company of twenty-seven, who were to dig their way to freedom.

"Colonel Rose was well calculated to superintend this work, for he had
served in the Mexican War, was taken prisoner by the Mexicans, and after
a short confinement, escaped by tunneling from the prison a sufficient
distance to be clear of the guards. He had served his apprenticeship
and was now prepared to manage and direct. After thorough organization
of our company, with secrecy well enjoined, we adopted the following
plan of operations:

"In the basement of the building just below our cook-room, was a small
unoccupied cellar, which had been closed since our arrival, and was
never entered. From this room or cellar arose a large chimney, which
passed through the cook-room, and so to the top of the building. Our
first work was to make a hole in the chimney from the kitchen, which
opening we could easily conceal by means of some slop-barrels. These
barrels we managed ourselves to empty, so that all danger of detection
from this point was carefully avoided. A short ladder which our
considerate jailers had brought into the rooms for the purpose of
raising their flag on the building, was used to make our descent into
the dark room below. Inquiry was made for the ladder, but as no one
seemed to know anything about it, it was inferred that it had been
converted into fuel. At the foot of the ladder another opening was made
through the chimney wall leading into the underground basement room. By
removing a few stones from the wall of this place, we were in a
situation to commence the work of tunneling. The only implements in our
possession were an old trowel and the half of a canteen. The arduous
labor was commenced with only the fragment of a canteen, but with this
the progress was so slow that even the most patient were disheartened.
Fortunately for us a mason came in to repair the prison walls, and going
to dinner before he had finished his work, left his trowel, which in his
absence most mysteriously disappeared. To him it may have been of
little account, to us it was a godsend. With the aid of this implement
we were enabled to make more rapid progress, were greatly encouraged,
and worked night and day with ceaseless energy. Two of our number were
kept in the tunnel almost constantly. One, by a vigorous use of the
trowel and canteen, would advance slowly, placing the loosened earth in
an old blanket, which the other would convey out of the tunnel into a
corner of the room, from whence it started. Our course was due east,
under the street, where constantly paced the sentinels, who at every
hour of the night were wont to cry: 'Post No. 1; all's well!'--'Post No.
2; all's well!' etc. Little did they dream that Yankee ingenuity and
perseverance were perforating the solid earth under their feet, and
opening a path to freedom.

"As we progressed in our work we experienced great difficulty from the
want of pure air to breathe, and to sustain our candles, which refused
to burn. Consequently, one of our party was compelled to stand at the
opening, fanning pure air into the tunnel with his hat. Our atmospheric
difficulties were the more increased by the small size of the hole,
which was a little less than two feet in diameter, quite irregular in
consequence of large stones, and descended in a line below the
horizontal. This severe labor was carried on without much interruption
for more than three weeks, when, at last, the plan came near being a
failure on account of a sad mistake in our measurement. Our intention
was to reach the yard of an old shed, or warehouse, in which were then
stored the boxes sent us by the Christian and Sanitary Commissions, and
by our friends at the North.

"Thinking we had reached the desired point, an opening was made to the
surface, when it was found we were still in the street, outside the
fence, and within a few yards of the sentries. Not discovered by this
mishap, the hole was quickly filled with a pair of old pants and some
straw, and the work of excavation continued to the spot intended.

"The selection of this point was very fortunate, as the guards used to
skulk about this building at night for the purpose of plundering the
boxes, and on the night of the escape, as it happened, they saw every
man that came out; but, supposing them to be friends, only whispered to
each other, that 'the boys were going through the _Yankee boxes_ mighty

"These whisperings," adds Captain Glazier, "were distinctly heard by
some of our men. The tunnel was about sixty-five feet in length, and was
ready for use February ninth, 1864.

"The company of diggers had arranged that they should make their egress
first, and inform the others just as they were going out. But each man
had a particular friend whom he wished to notify, and, as we were seen
packing our clothing, it soon became suspected among our
fellow-prisoners that something unusual was in the wind. Curiosity, once
on the alert, soon discovered the secret, and then all were jubilant
with the hope of escape, and forthwith commenced packing their poor
wardrobes. But egress was so slow that it soon became evident to the
cool calculator that, at best, but a comparatively small proportion of
our number would be fortunate enough to take their departure from
'Libby' before daylight would forbid any further efforts in that

"In order to get down the chimney, as well as along the tunnel, it was
necessary to do so _in puris naturalibus_, wrap our clothing in a
bundle, and push it on before us. As soon as it was seen that only a few
could possibly get out, many, and in fact most, became selfish, and
thought only of attaining their own liberty. All rushed for the mouth of
the tunnel, each man seemingly determined to be first out. By this
movement, the organization formed by the pioneers or working party was
broken up, and the workmen, who were to have had the first opportunity
to escape, were not more favorably situated than those who had never
borne a hand in the digging. At the entrance to the tunnel were hundreds
eagerly awaiting their turn.

"Through the intense anxiety and excitement that arose, there was a rush
and a crowd, each one being eager to improve the opportunity. Muscle was
the trump card, and won. The weak had to step aside, or rather they were
pushed aside without apology. No respect was paid to rank or name. A
long-armed second lieutenant had no scruple in taking hold of a pair of
shoulders that wore eagles, and pushing them out of the way. It was
_sauve qui peut_, and no standing aside for betters--no deference to
age, and gray hairs ceased to be honored. Mere physical force was the
test of championship. Those poor weak ones who gravitated to the
outskirts of such an eager crowding mass--just as the light kernels will
find their way to the top of a shaken measure of wheat--doubtless
thought, as they felt themselves crowded further and further from the
door of egress:

                    "'Oh, it is excellent
    To have a giant's strength, but 'tis tyrannous
    To use it like a giant!'

"I made several attempts," Glazier continues, "to assert what I
considered my rights, but as I had not, at that time, much muscle to
back my claims, they were not recognized, and thus I spent the whole
night in a bootless struggle for freedom.

"In digging the tunnel we had encountered a large root which we could
not well remove, and the passage at this point was very narrow.
Lieutenant Wallace F. Randolph, Fifth United States Artillery, a
corpulent fellow, was caught fast by the root. There was a man before
him, and another behind, which almost entirely excluded atmospheric
circulation, and before they could pull him out of his unfortunate
predicament, Randolph was almost dead. He was, however, successful at
last. This blockade greatly retarded the line of march, and made the
crowd within still more desperate.

"Some of the outsiders in the struggle, who despaired of accomplishing
anything by strength, had recourse to a stratagem. There had been
considerable noise during the struggle for position, and the guards were
expected to make their appearance at any moment. The outsiders, taking
advantage of this apprehension, went to the farther end of the
cook-room, and, in the darkness, made a racket with pots and kettles,
which sounded very much like the clashing of fire-arms; while some of
their number in the crowd sang out: 'Guards! guards!' In an instant
every man was gone from the tunnel, and a frantic rush took place for
the single stairway by about five hundred men. Such a struggling and
pressing I have never elsewhere seen, or participated in. We neither
walked up, nor ran up, but were literally lifted from our feet, and
propelled along in a solid mass up the passage, and made our entrance
through the door at the head of the stairs as though shot from a
cannon--most of us not stopping until we struck the wall on the opposite
side of the room. While this was going on, the scamps who had given the
false alarm were quietly passing out of the tunnel! The _ruse_ was soon
discovered, however, and, in a few minutes, there was as great a jam at
the entrance of the tunnel as ever. But, so eager and unthinking were
we, that within half an hour, the same trick was played on us again by
others and then followed another stampede up the stairs. It is a wonder
this affair was not stopped by the guards, but they had no suspicion
whatever of what was going on. This was probably owing to the fact that
great noises in the cook-room were common throughout the night as well
as day. It is however reported that one of the sentinels was heard to
call out jocosely to a comrade on the next beat, 'Hello, Billy! there
goes somebody's coffee-pot, sure.'

"This struggle continued until morning, when the opening in the chimney
was covered, and we went to our several quarters. Here a muster was
called to discover how many had made their escape, when it was found
that one hundred and fifteen were missing. Arrangements were at once
made to account for their absence, and certain men were designated who
were to cross the room slyly during roll-call, and be counted twice.

"For some reason the authorities were late that morning, and did not
make their appearance until about ten o'clock. On the roll being called
the men, according to arrangement, attempted to cross the room, but the
movement was discovered, and so the count showed one hundred and fifteen
short. The clerk thought he had made a mistake, and counted again, but
with the same result. The authorities also thought there must be some
error in the count, and joked little Ross, the prison clerk, who was
none of the brightest, because he could not count a thousand Yankees!

"We were now marched from one room to another, and counted one by one,
but still there were one hundred and fifteen short of the complement.
We, of course, pretended to be as much surprised as the authorities.
They next sent for Major Turner, and he counted us two or three times,
but with an equally unsatisfactory result. He demanded of us where they
had gone, and how they got out; but not a man knew.

"The escape was at once made public, and the papers were filled with the
news, and the most strenuous measures at once adopted to ensure the
recapture of the runaways. The authorities were terribly exasperated,
and as a first step, arrested the guards and threw them into Castle
Thunder, concluding as a matter of course, that they had been bribed.
This set the guards thinking, and one of them remembered he had seen an
unusual number of men in the lot near the Yankee boxes. Latouche, the
prison adjutant, hearing of this, just before nightfall discovered the
locality of the opening. Next, they questioned the prisoners as to
_where_ in the building it began, but could obtain no satisfaction, and
not until after a long search, did they discover the opening in the

So the "patient toil and vigil long" of poor Glazier went for nothing.
The Confederate authorities seem to have treated the matter very
good-humoredly, frankly expressed their surprise at the ingenuity and
patience of the subterranean engineers, and manfully set about the task
of recapturing the fugitives. Forty-eight were brought in during the
next two days, but at the same time it leaked out among the prisoners
that the Unionists under General Kilpatrick were within the outer line
of fortifications, engaging the rebels, as it was conjectured, with the
view of rescuing the prisoners. The consequence was, there was much
excitement among the latter, for the boom of cannon sounded distinctly
in their ears, and that sound was accepted as the music that heralded
their approaching freedom.

All such hopes, however, were doomed to disappointment. The object of
the expedition, which was a combined movement from different points by
General Kilpatrick and Colonel Dahlgren, was defeated in consequence of
the treachery of a negro guide, employed by the latter officer, and one
of the effects of this man's treason was the death of that gallant young
soldier. The only result that followed to the prisoners was that the
rebels became more exasperated than ever, and unfortunately for their
reputation, they seem, with regard to the treatment of the few prisoners
that fell into their hands on this occasion, to have behaved rather like
savage than civilized people. Not satisfied with the perpetration of
acts of cruelty upon these particular prisoners, they (according to
Captain Glazier's information) undermined the prison building, and
stored beneath the foundation a sufficient quantity of powder to blow it
into fragments. This proceeding he says they called, with more force
than elegance, "preparing the Yankees for hell;" and Major Turner
very grimly informed them that if any further attempt at escape were
made, or efforts for their rescue, the prison would be blown to atoms!
It is not surprising that at such a time, and under the circumstances,
the prisoners looked upon this threat as meant in sober reality; but in
all probability (or at least let us hope), it was used simply as a means
of discouraging attempts upon the part of the incarcerated men, to
regain their liberty by their own efforts or that of their friends.

[Illustration: The Hole In The Floor.]

The raiders captured in the expedition under Kilpatrick and Dahlgren had
been thrust into a cell directly beneath the room in which Glazier was
confined. Contrivances were made to open communication with them for the
purpose, if possible, of alleviating their sufferings, as it was well
known that food was issued to them in very niggardly quantities, and
every indignity the rebels could devise inflicted upon them. After much
effort, by the aid of a knife, a hole was cut in the floor, sufficiently
large to pass a man's hand, and through this hole Glazier, for several
weeks, was instrumental in furnishing the captives with a share of his
own and his companions' rations, which were eagerly grasped and devoured
by the starving men. No single act of our hero's life afforded him more
real happiness than the service he was thus enabled to render the brave
men who had lost their liberty in the noble effort to capture the prison
and release its inmates.



  Belle Boyd, the Confederate spy.--National characteristics.--
    Colonel Mosby.--Richmond to Danville.--Sleeping spoon-fashion.--
    Glazier's "corrective point" suffers.--Saltatory entrance to a
    railroad car.--Colonel Joselyn.--Sympathy of North Carolinians.--
    Ingenious efforts to escape.--Augusta.--Macon.--Turner again!--
    "Carelessness" with firearms.--Tunneling.--Religious revival.--
    Order from Confederate War Department.--Murder!--Fourth of
    July.--Macon to Savannah.--Camp Davidson.--More tunneling.

The celebrated Confederate spy, Belle Boyd, paid a visit to "Libby" in
the latter part of March, and her presence created much comment among
the prisoners. She was not that ideal of grace and gentleness which

                       "Untutored youth,
    Unlearned in the world's false subtleties,"

enthrones within the temple of his heart, but was, notwithstanding, a
remarkable woman. With much of the enthusiasm that characterized "_La
Pucelle_," she appears to have combined a considerable allowance of
shrewdness, or common sense; a mixture of qualities, by the way, of more
common occurrence than is generally supposed, among the northern and
southern people of our continent. There is little difference between the
"peartness" of the one, and the "smartness" of the other; or the "high
tone" of the South, and the _nonchalance_ of the North. The common
_national_ characteristic of the people of both sections, however, is
the power of adapting themselves to every variety of circumstance. No
matter what the importance, or the insignificance of the occasion, or
event, upon which they perceive that their opportunity for the
attainment of a desired object depends, they are ready at the right
moment to seize and turn it to account; and while, to-day, the banks of
the Ganges or the Tigris are made to yield up to them the fruits of
their industry and produce, to-morrow, when a modification of the law of
demand and supply prevails, we find the same men following the tide of
fortune through humbler but equally useful channels. We are
pre-eminently a practical people, and that this characteristic to some
extent destroys the poetic aspect of American life, cannot be gainsaid.
The homes of our infancy, the graves of our kindred, the hills upon
whose summits we first felt the glory of the morning, the altar at which
we first knelt in prayer, the rustic nook where we listened for the one
step to which our boyish hearts beat sweetest time; have no power to
trammel our migratory proclivities, or to check our local inconstancy.
The sentiments with which such objects are indissolubly connected, are
but tendrils clinging round the parent nest, and the wings of the
new-fledged bird, bursting them asunder, it soars out into the world to
contend and battle with its storms.

One of the least attractive illustrations of this spirit of unrest, is
where it extends to our women, and Miss Belle Boyd's is in our
estimation a case in point.

    "Unknown to her the rigid rule,
      The dull restraint, the chiding frown,
    The weary torture of the school;
      The taming of wild nature down.
    Her only lore, the legends told
      Around the soldiers' fire; at night
    Stars rose and set, and seasons rolled;
      Flowers bloomed, and snowflakes fell,
        Unquestioned, in her sight!"

Her career was full of adventure and intrepid daring, and she served the
disloyal cause she espoused faithfully and to the bitter end; and then,
like other wandering stars of the troubled sky, sank into oblivion. From
the time of Miss Boyd's visit until the seventh of May, Willard Glazier
continued to lead the same dull life at Libby Prison. The monotony of
the hours was unbroken by any circumstance more exciting than a visit
from the celebrated partisan chief, Mosby, who is described by Glazier
as a _preux chevalier_, at that time about twenty-eight years of age, in
figure slight, with straight fair hair and closely shaven face, except
that "a faded German moustache overshadowed his upper lip." It does not
appear that he was received as a welcome visitor, although he jocularly
remarked to some of the prisoners who had been captured by his own
troopers that he was "glad to see them there."

Time! what wonders dost thou work. But a few years have passed, and
Mosby, who was erst so malignant a rebel, that even the poor, but loyal,
prisoners, presented him the cold shoulder, is now a confidential friend
of the late Commander in chief of the Union Army! Longstreet, the rebel
General, again swears by the Star-Spangled Banner; and Beauregard, hero
of Sumter and Bull Run, is now an advocate of perfect equality between
the black and white races in his Southern State of Louisiana!

The visit of Colonel Mosby was the last memorable incident of our
hero's sojourn in "Libby." Upon the seventh of May following, the
prisoners were removed thence to Danville, Virginia. Several, in the
course of this transit, effected their escape, but the great majority
were safely conveyed to their new place of imprisonment. The change made
no improvement in their unhappy condition. True, the rations furnished
at Danville were of somewhat better quality, and more liberal in
quantity, but the discipline was equally Draconian, and the penalty of
its slightest infraction--death! The chief source of misery among the
captives was want of room, the men being compelled to sleep
"spoon-fashion," and in detachments, many being compelled to stand up
awake while their comrades slept as best they could.

This condition of things, however, did not last long. Early upon the
morning of the twelfth, the prisoners were once more marched out and
started southward. After a journey of twenty-four hours in cattle cars,
exposed most of the time to a drenching rain, they were disembarked and
tramped another twelve miles to Greensboro. Here the mass of weary, wet,
and hopeless patriots were about to be driven, pell-mell, like a herd of
cattle, into a train of filthy cars, when young Glazier thought he
espied a chance of evading his captors. He waited until it appeared to
him that the guard was sufficiently occupied with other duties to
overlook his whereabouts, and then slipped behind a log, where in an
instant he lay upon the ground apparently fast asleep, trusting in the
confusion attendant upon the departure of the train to escape
observation. But fortune was against him. The only result was the
infliction upon that portion of his body which some mothers consider
the "corrective point" of their children, of sundry unceremonious kicks,
which, coming from such boots as the "C. S. A." at that time supplied to
their soldiers, were felt to be more persuasive than agreeable. Of
course it became necessary to awaken from his profound slumber slowly,
which made the _kicks_ still more persuasive, and by the time he was
erect, the cars were filled and the doors all closed. The guards
therefore insisted upon his effecting an entrance through the small
window, which he did with certain vigorous assistance from behind, and
landed upon the head and shoulders of Lieutenant-Colonel Joselyn, of the
Fifteenth Massachusetts Infantry, who passed him around in such a way
that the other occupants of the car were moved to sundry objurgations at
the expense of our young friend more forcible than polite, and partaking
little of the nature of a hospitable reception! However, this is a world
of compromises, and Glazier soon found his level among his

Their route took them through a portion of North Carolina, where for the
first time they met with unmistakable proofs of sympathy. At one city,
on learning there were "Yankee prisoners" in town, the citizens came out
in large numbers. Many attempted to converse with them, but were forced
back at the point of the bayonet. The prisoners then struck up the
"Star-Spangled Banner," and "Rally Round the Flag," and in each
interlude could see white handkerchiefs waving in the breeze,
demonstrations that so exasperated the Virginia guard that they sent a
detail to drive "the d----d tar-heels" from the field.

The contiguity of friends of course presented a strong temptation to
some to strike for liberty. Every device promising the least chance
of escape was therefore resorted to. Among the most ingenious of these
was one so graphically described by young Glazier that we make no
apology for again using his language:

[Illustration: Prison Pen, Macon, Georgia. Tunneling--the
Narrow Path To Freedom.]

"The night being very dark," he writes, "and the soil where we were
huddled together very sandy and light, many of the prisoners dug holes
in the ground and there buried themselves, hoping thus to escape the
observation of the guard when we should be marched from the field to the
cars. Unfortunately, however, the scheme was exposed by one of the guard
who accidentally stumbled into one of the holes, in the bottom of which
he beheld a 'live Yankee.' Struck with amazement, he shouted out: 'Oh,
my G--, Captain, here is a Yankee buried alive!' Great excitement was
the natural consequence. A general search ensued, torch-lights were
used, and the trees and ground thoroughly inspected. This investigation
brought to light several holes of a similar character, each having
deposited therein a Federal prisoner. The guards were very angry and
went about shouting, 'Run them through! Pick up the d----d hounds!' but
their captain, a good-natured sort of man, stopped all this. 'No,' said
he, 'the d----d Yankees have a right to escape if they can. Let them
alone. I'll risk their getting away from me!'"

Some of the burrowers did escape, however, and several others hid
themselves in the foliage and were left behind.

After this nothing eventful occurred upon the way, and on the fifteenth
of the same month, the whole party arrived at Augusta, Georgia, and
found the home guards, to whose custody they were consigned, a bad lot.
From that city they were soon after removed to Macon. Up to this
period, amid all the mortifications of their condition, notwithstanding
their tiresome rides and weary marches; despite the chagrin they
naturally felt when well-laid plans of escape were frustrated by
accidents beyond the power of men to foresee, they still had one source
of consolation--there was at least one drop of balm in Gilead--_for had
they not gotten rid of--Turner!_

Judge, then, of their mingled horror and despair when they reached the
front gate of Camp Oglethorpe, their future prison, to find that monster
before them, lounging gracefully against the gate entrance, and
evidently delighted with the idea of being in a condition to shock his
former victims with his presence.

The laugh, however, was not entirely his, for, upon mustering them, he
discovered that forty-seven had escaped. Smothering his wrath for the
moment, he welcomed the remainder to their prison-house, with the
gratifying intelligence that _it had its dead-line_, and all who
approached it had better be ready to meet the contingencies of a future
state of rewards and punishments!

After horrifying them with his presence, he shortly took himself off,
and not long afterward, to their great relief, was ordered back to

Before the week had expired, Glazier had an opportunity of estimating
how _careless_(_?_) some of his custodians were in handling their
firearms, being an eye-witness of an attempt by a sentinel to shoot
Lieutenant Barker, of the First Rhode Island Cavalry. The bullet, kinder
than the boy who sped it on its errand (for this guard was not over
fourteen years of age), passed over the old man's head. As the latter
noted the direction of the lad's aim, and heard the whistle of the
bullet above him, he very temperately asked the somewhat unnecessary
question, "What are you shooting at?" "I am shooting at you, you d----d
old cuss." "What are you shooting at me for?" mildly inquired the
lieutenant. "Because you had your hands on the dead-line," answered the
boy. At this moment the sergeant of the guard came up, and taking the
precocious ruffian by the collar, shook him with considerable energy,
and demanded of him very fiercely, "What the devil are you shooting at
that prisoner for, you little scoundrel?" The boy replied that the
prisoner had his hands on the dead-line. Whereupon the sergeant shook
him again, told him he was a liar--that the lieutenant was not within
twenty feet of the dead-line, and consigned him to the custody of the
corporal of the guard, who marched the young monster away.

Captain Glazier states that he was within ten feet of the lieutenant
when the shot was fired, and that the latter _was not within thirty feet
of the fatal line_. The incident was not very exhilarating upon the
threshold of his new abode, and the prisoners naturally felt greatly
exasperated when they heard the particulars.

An order was promulgated next morning by the officer commanding, Captain
W. K. Tabb, directing that "any of their number not in ranks at
roll-call should be shot," which was not calculated to make them think
more kindly of their jailers. The fact is, that the prisoners, in
pursuance of a settled determination to lose no opportunity of escape
that seemed at all feasible, had been again making experiments in
_tunneling_, and this atrocious order was intended as a measure of
precaution against similar schemes in future.

Thus excluded from the relief afforded by such hopeful occupation, their
poor captives had to find other employment for their leisure hours, and
at this time a kind of religious revival took place among them, and if
human prayer could have effected the destruction of the Confederacy,
that organization would certainly have crumbled into dust forthwith. The
enthusiasm was so great that at times the exercises bordered upon
tumult, and greatly incensed their less fervent guards. At one time a
huge Western man poured forth such a rhapsody in favor of Grant and
Sherman, and garnished it with such pungent denunciations of Jefferson
Davis, and other Confederate magnates, that one of the jailers commented
thus: "D----d smart praying, but it won't do! It won't do!"

On the morning of the tenth of August, an order from the Confederate War
Department was read before the entire garrison of Camp Oglethorpe, and
caused much excitement. This order directed that a detachment of fifty
prisoners, selected from officers of the highest rank, should be
forwarded to Charleston, in order that they might be placed under the
fire of the siege guns with which the beleaguering Union forces were
attempting the reduction of that city. The order further directed that
Generals Scammon, Wessels, Seymour, Schuyler and Heckman should be
included in the number. The mandate was of course at once executed, and
the departure of the devoted band was the signal for a wild burst of
indignant reprobation of the Confederate authorities. It happened also,
at this time, that one of the sentinels shot and mortally wounded a
prisoner. The victim's name was Otto Grierson, and he had been a general
favorite. The excuse assigned for the murder was that he was
endeavoring to escape, but his comrades declared that at the time the
shot was fired, he was fully sixteen feet from the dead-line, and had
made no attempt to escape. Young Glazier and others joined in a formal
report of the facts to the officer in command, but the only result was
that the murderer received promotion, and was granted a furlough!

If the statements of Captain Glazier regarding this and other
contemporaneous outrages are to be relied upon (and he is very strongly
corroborated), the officers commanding this military prison sadly abused
their trust. Even the highest of those officials indulged in such petty
exhibitions of puerile spite as to be altogether unworthy of his
station, or even the name of an American.

On the arrival of the Fourth of July, the prisoners very naturally
determined, as far as their limited resources would permit, to celebrate
the occasion. Accordingly, in true American fashion, a meeting was
called, at which speeches of a patriotic character were made, songs
sung, and a miniature flag, containing the full number of stars and
stripes, which one of their number had concealed about his person, was
produced, and became an object of much interest. Instead of
magnanimously ignoring all this harmless enthusiasm, the commander of
the prison marched in a company of guards and violently dispersed the

On the twenty-seventh of July, six hundred prisoners were counted out,
as they supposed to be added to the others under fire at Charleston, but
really for removal to Camp Davidson, at Savannah, Georgia.

This change proved for the better. In the first place, in lieu of the
Sahara of shadeless sand and clay of their former prison grounds, they
found at "Davidson" a number of fine oaks, beneath the shade of which
they were permitted to recline in peace. In addition to this, and a
matter of infinitely greater importance, their guards were officered by
_gentlemen_. Captain Glazier states that the authorities here issued
tents, cooking utensils, and decent rations, and adds this tribute to
their generally manly conduct toward the prisoners: "The troops here
have seen service, and there is nothing like the battle-field and the
suffering there experienced to teach soldiers humanity toward each
other. Whenever attempts are made to escape, they give us to understand
that they would do the same themselves, under like circumstances, but
are still compelled to punish such infractions of discipline. They
politely ask our pardon for inspecting our quarters, and in a manner as
gentlemanly as possible, remove our blankets from the floor of our tents
in their search for incipient _tunnels_. All this is very gratifying and
tends to assuage the bitter hatred which former brutality has
engendered. These Georgia boys will be long remembered, and may look for
the utmost kindness and consideration from us if the chances of war ever
reverse our situations."

This is a record for Georgia nobler far than any she ever gained upon
the battle-field, albeit her sons were always in the van. All honor to
them! Such victories are well worth the winning.

But pleasant as their Georgia quarters were by comparison with former
experiences, the captives were afflicted with the _malade du pays_--the
home-sickness that tugged at their hearts, and bade them again and
again risk death for the chance of freedom. Tunnel after tunnel was
attempted, and one, constructed by a select band (sworn to secrecy), was
upon the eve of completion, when a straggling cow blundered upon the
frail covering of turf, and became so securely imbedded in the falling
earth that she could not extricate herself. Her bellowing attracted the
attention of the sentinel, the plot was discovered, and, of course,

Despite such disappointments, however, when the time came, as it soon
did, for the prisoners to leave Savannah, they did so with sentiments of
gratitude for the comparatively humane treatment they had received at
the hands of the Georgians, not unmingled, however, with apprehensions
concerning their future, for it was openly rumored that they were
destined to join their former fellow-prisoners now under fire of
Gilmore's siege guns at Charleston.



  Under siege.--Charleston Jail.--The Stars and Stripes.--Federal
    compliments.--Under the guns.--Roper Hospital.--Yellow
    Jack.--Sisters of Charity.--Rebel Christianity.--A Byronic
    stanza.--Charleston to Columbia.--"Camp
    Sorghum."--Nemesis.--Another dash for liberty.--Murder of
    Lieutenants Young and Parker.--Studying topography.--A
    vaticination.--Back to reality.

The next we see of Lieutenant Glazier is in the city of Charleston,
South Carolina, on the twelfth of September, 1864. Coming Street on the
morning of that day was crowded with people of every variety of calling,
from the priest and sister of charity, out on their merciful errands, to
the riff-raff and _sans-culottes_ out on no errand at all but to help
the excitement. The city was under siege.

At the end of the street a body of six hundred emaciated,
broken-spirited, ragged men, escorted by a strong guard, marched along,
and the busiest of the pedestrians paused to gaze upon them as they
passed. Coarse and scurrilous was the greeting the captives received
from the motley and shameless groups. A few of the more respectable
citizens, however, spoke words of grace to them, and some added hopeful
predictions of the final triumph of the Union cause. The prisoners were
hurried forward to the yard of Charleston Jail, where for the first time
in many weary months they beheld the glorious flag of their country
floating in the breeze over Morris Island. Weak as they were the
patriotic sentiment was still strong within and they gave one rousing
cheer! Some, despite the curses of their guard, dancing like children,
while others wept tears of joy.

[Illustration: Charleston Jail--charleston, South Carolina.]

The jail, as Captain Glazier describes it, was a large octagonal
building of four stories, surmounted by a tower. In the rear was a large
workshop, in appearance like a bastile, where some of the prisoners were
confined. As a lugubrious accessory to his own quarters, he had a
remarkably clear view of a gallows, erected directly in front of his
fragment of a tent. "The ground floor of the jail was occupied by
ordinary criminal convicts; the second story by Confederate officers and
soldiers, under punishment for military offences; the third by negro
prisoners, and the fourth by Federal and Confederate deserters, and it
is complimentary to the good sense of the rebels that deserters from
_either_ side were treated by them with equal severity." He gives a sad
account of the terrible condition of the negro soldiers and their
officers who were captured at Fort Wagner, and says the hospital at this
place was "a lazar-house of indescribable misery."

On the twenty-second of September, Glazier makes the following note on
the progress of the siege:

"Shelling is kept up vigorously. From sixty to a hundred huge, smoking
two-hundred-pounders convey Federal compliments daily to the doomed

It appears, however, that, for the most part, the destructive effects of
this bombardment were confined to what was known as the "burnt
district," and caused little damage to the inhabited portion of the

Seven days after the above entry in his journal his heart was gladdened
by an order for removal, with his fellow-prisoner and messmate,
Lieutenant Richardson, to Roper Hospital; a place much more tolerable as
to its situation and appointments, though still within shell-range of
the bombarding force. Prior to the transfer, a parole was obtained from
each, by which they pledged themselves, while in their new quarters, to
make no attempt to escape.

Here our prisoner found opportunity under the usual restrictions for
writing the following letter home:

      [Only one page allowed.]
                                               C. S. Military Prison,
                                        Charleston, South Carolina,
                            Roper Hospital, _October 4th, 1864_.

     My Dear Mother:

     For a long time you have doubtless waited with anxiety some
     intelligence of your absent son, which would tell you of his
     health, and his prospects of release from the disagreeable
     restraints of prison life; and I am now delighted to find this
     opportunity of writing to you. Since my last letter, which was
     dated at Libby Prison, I have been confined at Danville, Virginia;
     Macon and Savannah, Georgia; and at this point. My health for the
     most part has been very poor, which I attribute to the inactivity
     of prison life. I have also suffered much for want of clothing. I
     have a pair of shoes on to-day that I bought more than a year ago;
     have run about barefoot for days and weeks during the past summer;
     many of my comrades have been compelled to do the same. I do not
     look for a _general exchange_ before winter, though I hope and pray
     that it may take place to-morrow. There is now an opportunity for
     sending boxes to prisoners. I should be glad to receive one from
     home if convenient. Please give my love to all the family circle.
     Remember me to my friends, and believe me ever

                                           Your affectionate son,

The days passed anxiously with Glazier, when the yellow fever began its
inroads upon the prisoners. He had now, at the same moment, to face
death at the hands of man, and by the pestilence--a condition of things
to which the bravest spirit might succumb. One great source of
consolation was derived from the visits of the Sisters of Charity, who
were always found where suffering and peril prevailed. Writing of these
angelic women, Captain Glazier says:--"Confined as we are, so far away
from every home comfort and influence, and from all that makes life
worth living, how quickly do we notice the first kind word, the passing
friendly glance! Can any prisoner confined here ever forget the 'Sisters
of Charity?' Ask the poor private now suffering in the loathsome
hospital so near us, while burning with fever, or racked with pain, if
he can forget the kind look, the gracious word given him by that sister.
Many are the bunches of grapes--many the sip of their pure juice, that
the sufferer gets from her hands. They seem, they _are_ 'ministering
angels;' and while all around us are our avowed enemies, they remain
true to every instinct of womanhood. They dare lift the finger to help,
they do relieve many a sufferer. All through the South our sick and
wounded soldiers have had reason to bless the 'Sisters of Charity.' They
have ministered to their wants and performed those kind womanly offices
which are better to the sick than medicine, and are so peculiarly
soothing to the dying. These noble women have attended their sick-beds
when other _Christian_ ladies of the South looked on unpityingly, and
turned away without even tendering the cheap charity of a kind word.
_They_ have done what others were too scornful and cruel to do--they
have done what others did not dare do. They were, for some inscrutable
reason, permitted to bestow their charities wherever charities were
needed. Their bounties were bestowed indiscriminately on Federal and
Confederate sufferers, and evidenced a broad philanthropy untainted by
party-feeling or religious bigotry. Many a poor soldier has followed
them from ward to ward with tearful eyes.... Were other Christian
denominations in the South as active in aiding us as the Catholics have
been, I might have some faith in 'Rebel Christianity.'"

This is no mean tribute to the beneficent influences of the Catholic
church, albeit the pen of a Protestant records it; but the facts fully
justify him. Protestant England had _one_--the Church of Rome has her
_legions_ of Florence Nightingales. They are found in the camp, and the
hospital, and the prison--wherever human sympathy can palliate human
suffering; they are to be found where even wives and mothers flee before
the dreaded pestilence, and these ministers of divine love, like light
and air, and the dews of Heaven, visit alike the rich and poor, the
sinner and the saint; the only claim they recognize being the claim of
suffering and misfortune.

Willard Glazier remained _under the guns_ of his friends until the fifth
of October, and during his sojourn here had various opportunities of
forming an acquaintance with vagrant shot and shell that struck or
exploded near the hospital building, but fortunately did no greater
damage to its inmates than create "a scare."

What was much more serious was the prevalence of the deadly fever, which
was of a most malignant type, and carried off, among its many victims,
the Confederate commander and his adjutant. The prisoners therefore
were removed--the authorities assigning as their reason for the step,
the "danger to which they would be exposed on account of the fever;" and
although, at the time, it appeared an anomaly to the prisoners, "after
bringing them there to be murdered by their own guns, to remove them for
the purpose of saving them from death in another shape,"--yet it is
possible such was the case. At all events they were removed, and their
"Poet Laureate"--Lieutenant Ogden, of Wisconsin--wrote a farewell poem,
containing among others, the following "Byronic" stanza:

    "Thy Sanctuaries are forsaken now;
      Dark mould and moss cling to thy fretted towers;
    Deep rents and seams, where struggling lichens grow,
      And no sweet voice of prayer at vestal hours;
    But voice of screaming shot and bursting shell,
    Thy deep damnation and thy doom foretell.
    The 'fire' has left a pile of broken walls,
    And Night-hags revel in thy ruined halls!"

Who will say that a dread Nemesis has not overtaken the metropolis of
the Palmetto State? Streets, once the busy scene of commerce and
industry, now covered with grass, in this city of secession--formerly
the head and front of treason and rebellion and the defiant advocate of
human slavery!

Escorted by the Thirty-second Georgia Volunteers, Glazier and his
fifteen hundred companions were marched through the principal streets of
the city to the depot, where they took the cars for Columbia, the State
capital. None will ever forget the parade of ragged and bearded men
through King Street. But the Georgian guards, while strictly attentive
to duty, showed the politeness and demeanor of gentlemen. He says of
them, at this point in the history of his imprisonment, "the Georgia
troops seem to be by far the most civil and gentlemanly of all the
Southern army. They were the most respectable in appearance, most
intelligent and liberal in conversation, and to a greater extent than
others, recognized the principle that a man is a man under whatever
circumstances he may be placed, and is entitled to humane treatment.
They very generally addressed the prisoners as 'gentlemen.'"

The same kind of unventilated and filthy cattle-cars were employed in
their transportation as had been used in their various previous
removals. All suffered from want of water, air and space. The arrival of
the captives at Columbia took place in the midst of a drenching
rain-storm, and during the entire night, with scarcely any clothing, no
rations, and no shelter, they were exposed to the merciless elements,
while not twenty yards off, in front of their camping ground, glared the
muzzles of a park of loaded artillery. The prisoners, being in a
starving condition, looked the picture of despair. A discovery however
was made of some bacon suspended to the rafters of the building that
enclosed them, in one corner separated by a partition. As the famished
men looked through the bars of a window and saw this tempting food,
their eyes watered, and their inventive faculties were aroused. Hooks,
strings and poles were brought into requisition, and in a short time
most of the meat, by Yankee talent, was transferred from the rafters of
the building to the stomachs of the prisoners!

The day following, they were moved to a spot about two miles from the
town, and bivouacked in an open field, without any shelter whatever.
Surrounded by the usual cordon of sentries, and menaced with the
customary "dead-line," they were turned loose to provide for themselves,
neither axe, spade, nor cooking utensils being supplied them. Two days
after their arrival some corn-meal and _sorghum_ were issued, the latter
a substitute for molasses. A great many suffered from diarrhoea and
dysentery in consequence, and the place from this circumstance acquired
the sobriquet of "Camp Sorghum."

They had no quarters to protect them from the cold November storms, only
huts constructed by themselves of brush and pine boughs. The treatment
at "Camp Sorghum" was so exceptionally brutal, that almost every dark
night starving men would run the guard and risk their lives to escape
dying by inches. Sometimes as many as thirty or forty would run in one
night. Generally some daring fellow would act as _forlorn hope_ and rush
past the sentries, drawing their fire, at the imminent risk of
forfeiting his own life, his comrades joining him before the guards
could reload their rifles. The latter would then fire a volley into the
camp, killing or wounding some of the prisoners. Lieutenant Young, of
the Fourth Pennsylvania Cavalry, was thus shot dead whilst sitting at
his hut, and according to Captain Glazier, "no reason for this atrocity
was apparent, and none was assigned by the guards." The poor young
fellow had been a prisoner twenty-two months. About this time the guards
accidentally killed two of their own men, in their reckless and savage
shooting, and afterwards observed more care in firing at the prisoners.

Hounds were kept near the prison to track escaped fugitives. Lieutenant
Parker, while attempting to escape, was so much torn and bitten by these
dogs that he died the day after his recapture.

Mingled with thoughts of home, and the friends gathered around loved
firesides, there had by this time arisen in young Glazier's mind a stern
determination to win his freedom, or, in the effort, forfeit his life.

As the weather grew colder, the possession of wood became a matter of
necessity, and some of the prisoners were paroled to pass beyond the
lines, and gather such broken branches and pieces of bark in the
neighboring woods as they could carry back into camp. Glazier availed
himself of this privilege, and stored up an abundance of fuel. But a
more important acquisition than fuel to him was the knowledge he
obtained of the topography of the surrounding country. One great
difficulty he foresaw in getting away arose from the sorry condition of
his shoes, which were nearly soleless. He succeeded, however, in
obtaining the rim of an old regulation-hat, and out of this fashioned a
serviceable pair of soles for his worn-out brogans, and thus removed one
obstacle from his path.

We need feel no surprise that he and many of his companions thought no
risk too great to run for the chance of effecting their escape. Their
treatment by this time had become so bad as to be almost unendurable.
For example, to avoid being frozen to death, they were compelled to run
around all night, and only when the sun arose in the morning dare they
venture to recline themselves on the ground to sleep. The truth is, that
our friend, in common with many of his comrades, had arrived at the
desperate conclusion that no fate, even death by shooting, or by
hounds, could be worse than the misery and suffering he was now
enduring. It was not alone that they were starved and shelterless, sick
and unattended, nearly naked, with no hope of being clad; it was not
alone that they were immersed, day and night, in filth and squalor like
hogs, with no prospect of relief to cheer them; but, in addition to all
this suffering of their own, they were compelled to witness the
sufferings of others--to hear their sighs and groans, and look upon
faces that hard usage and despair had made ghastly and terrible. They
would greet in the morning a man sick and emaciated perhaps, but still a
human being, erect and in God's image, who, in the evening of the same
day, would disappear from among them, making a desperate dash for
freedom. The following day a broken, nerveless, shivering wretch would
be dragged into their midst, blood-stained, faint, and with the gashes
of a blood-hound's teeth covering his face and throat.

Thus it was that existence became unbearable. Their own sufferings were
hard, but to continue for many long months looking upon the sufferings
of others added to their misery beyond endurance. Accordingly, when
Thanksgiving-day arrived, and the excitement created by Sherman's "march
to the sea" had reached its highest point, Glazier and a
fellow-prisoner, named Lieutenant Lemon, determined that _they_ would
wait no longer the slow process of tunneling, but make a bold effort for
liberty--or die in the attempt.

"It was customary," says the former, "to extend the guard-line in the
morning for the purpose of allowing prisoners (as previously stated) to
collect fuel on a piece of timbered land just opposite the camp, and it
was our intention this morning to take a shovel, when permitted to pass
to the woods, and make a hole in the ground large enough to receive our
two 'skeletons,' and then enlist the services of some friend, who would
cover us up with brush and leaves, so that, when the guard was
withdrawn, we would be left without the camp." The plan looked feasible,
and, if successful, it would not be a difficult matter to reach Augusta,
Georgia, at which point they hoped to find themselves within Sherman's
lines. The fates, however, decreed otherwise. Their scheme was rendered
abortive by the simple fact, that upon that particular morning, the line
was not extended at all. Why it was not, is purely a matter of
conjecture. Possibly, "the morning being unusually cold and raw," the
guard did not care to leave their own snug tents along the line of the
encampment, with no greater inducement than that of increasing the
comfort of their Yankee prisoners, who, for that day, were left without
any fires at all; but, be this as it may, the guard-line was not
extended as was usual, and thus the plot of our young friends was
frustrated for the time being. They agreed to "watch, pray _and act_" at
the very first opportunity that presented. It was not long before that
opportunity came.

Early upon the day following that of their disappointment, the
conspirators arranged that each should make a reconnaissance of the
lines, discover the weak points of the enemy, and, that being
accomplished, rendezvous at a given spot, ready to act upon any likely
plan that might suggest itself to them. Glazier had become a tolerably
expert physiognomist, and singled out an unsophisticated-looking
giant, who was patrolling a certain beat, as the best man among the line
of sentries on whom to practise an imposition. This individual was
evidently a good-natured lout, not long in the service, and very much
resembling our conception of "Jonas Chuzzlewit," in respect to his
having been "put away and forgotten for half a century." It is only
necessary to add that his owners "had stuck a musket in his hand, and
placed him on guard." Yet there was some pluck in him. He was just the
sort of man who, led by a good officer, would fight like a lion, but
whose animal instincts had so befogged his intellect that, if left to
his own resources, he would be as likely to ruin friend as foe.

[Illustration: The Escape From Columbia--crossing The Dead Line.]

When Glazier rejoined his comrade, he described this man, and the
friends agreed that they would boldly cross the "dead-line" immediately
in front of him, be ready to answer promptly his challenge, and, by the
audacity of their movement, attempt to deceive him in regard to their
real character and purpose. With such a man as they had to deal with,
this scheme was certain to result in one of two things: he would let
them pass, or he would kill them both; therefore, courage and
_sang-froid_ were matters of first necessity.

Accordingly, with the utmost coolness, and laughing and chatting
together, they sauntered up to and upon the fatal line. The sentinel
looked at them in amazement. He then brought his piece to bear upon
Glazier completely covering his person, and, with the usual order to
"Halt!" added: "Whar in hell are you going, Yanks?" As if his dignity
was seriously offended by this demand, our hero answered this question
by asking another: "Do you halt paroled prisoners here?" "His meek 'No,
sir!'" Glazier relates, "was not yet lost in the distance when I boldly
crossed the dreaded line, adding: 'Then let my friend in the rear follow
me;' and so we passed, while the sentinel murmured 'All right!' And
right it was, for now we were free, breathing the fresh air, untainted
by the breath of hundreds of famishing, diseased and dying men."

They could not proceed very far without falling in with numbers of the
paroled prisoners. This they did, but their presence excited no
suspicion or comment, as they assumed to belong to the party. They
applied themselves to gathering wood and piling it apparently for
transportation, and gradually crept on and on until they reached a point
beyond the vision of the gray-jackets, when off they started at the top
of their speed; and although before long they were compelled to reduce
their pace, they put several miles behind them in a space of time that
at any other period of their lives, or under any other circumstances,
would have seemed impossible. Pausing to regain breath, they turned, and
_Columbia_ was no longer within sight. This, in itself, was a relief,
for the place was associated in their minds with the intense misery they
had suffered within its boundaries.

Could these men have _foreseen_ the not very distant future, they would
have known that every sigh and groan that cruelty had wrung from them in
that place of torture would be avenged; they would have seen loyal
soldiers swarming in its streets, their old comrades in misery torn from
the grasp of their merciless jailers, and the soulless "Southern
Chivalry" thrust into their place; they would have seen red-handed
vengeance doom that city of blood to destruction, and the glaring
tongues of fire lap up the costly goods and edifices of its vile and
relentless citizens; and those who had no mercy for them in their
wretchedness and famine, now awe-struck on finding that the men they had
so barbarously trampled upon had now the power and the will to retort
upon them with interest; they would have seen brothers in arms, who
until now had been merciful to their enemies when in their power,
suddenly transformed into ravenous wolves, fierce and terrible in their
righteous wrath at the treatment their less fortunate brothers had met
with in this city of blood. The Avenger had come! and not one house but
would fall a smouldering heap of ruins. They would have foreseen this
city ablaze with burning homes for its sins against humanity; its men,
so lately drunk with pride and satiated with cruelty to their
countrymen; its women divested of all womanly attributes, and invested
with those of demons, _now_ all cowed and humbled in the dust! They
would have seen one noted instance of the interference of a just
Providence that occurred amid all this dreadful saturnalia--a woman,
pale, but beautiful of feature, delicate of form, madly rushing to and
fro in front of her blazing house, crying for her child that lay within
it. They would have seen a poor, emaciated prisoner, roused to exhibit
strength and courage by the hope of saving life, rush in and drag the
cradle and its innocent living freight from the very jaws of death,
while burning rafters crashed and fell upon him; they would have seen
him place the babe in its mother's arms, and they would have seen that
mother turn with streaming eyes to thank the saviour of her child, _and
then start back conscience-smitten, and scream and fall, seeing in her
child's preserver a man who in the prison had once implored her for a
piece of bread because he was starving, and she spat upon him because he
was of Northern race_!! Could they have seen the future of the coming
months, they would have seen all this and more. But no such prevision
was vouchsafed them. Their thoughts were now of themselves. They felt
that the shade of a deadly peril encompassed them. Columbia and its
prison were hidden from their sight, but still they were so near that at
any moment the hounds might scent them, and if recaptured, all the
horrors they had undergone would be light compared with the fate they
must submit to in the future.

Fortunately for the purpose of our fugitives, the settlements, whether
towns or villages, in that part of the country, were "few and far
between." The residences of the planters were also distant from each
other and few in number, and the ravines and swamps which abound there,
while in many respects disagreeable and dangerous lurking spots, were
still the safest refuges for hunted men. The wilder the country, the
better it promised to Glazier and his comrade fleeing for their lives.
Their greatest fear was the dreaded blood-hound. Our friends knew they
could defeat most of the devices of human ingenuity in tracking them,
but they were apprehensive that the instinct of the brutes, which a
depraved humanity had enlisted in its service, might render abortive all
their plans and precautions. They did their best, however, to baffle
their canine foes, and nightfall found them hurrying forward on the
Lexington Court-house Road.



  Mysterious voices.--"I reckon deys Yankees."--"Who comes
    there?"--The Lady of the Manor.--A weird spectacle.--The struggle
    through the swamp.--A reflection on Southern swamps in
    general.-"Tired nature's sweet restorer."

The attention of the fugitives was suddenly arrested by the sound of
human voices in their immediate rear. It occurred to both at once to
discover as quickly as possible if the speakers were white or black, and
they accordingly listened in the hope of learning their color by their
dialect. This was by no means easy, the vernacular of the poorer class
of whites in that section of the country very much resembling the
ordinary dialect of the negroes. The comrades, however, concluded to
risk a halt until the strangers came up. Glazier then saluted them with
the remark that it was "a pleasant night," with the view of drawing them
out before committing himself. "Indeed 'tis!" was the reply. This failed
to convey the desired information as to the color of the strangers, and
they thought it wiser to hurry forward than prolong the conversation at
some risk to their safety. Before they had advanced many steps, however,
they were agreeably surprised by hearing one of the same party remark to
another, "I reckon deys Yankees," followed by the response, "Golly, I
hope to God dey is!" Glazier immediately turned and inquired, "Do you
know who I am?" "I reckon I dunno yer, massa," was the reply. "Have you
ever seen a Yankee?" asked Glazier. "Lord bress yer, marser, I've seen a
right smart heap ov um down at Clumby." "Well," said Glazier, "do we
look like them?" "How'n de debbil can I tell dat in de dark, marser?"
answered the now unmistakable negro, "but I spec' yer talk jest like'
em." "We are Yankees," responded Glazier, "and have just escaped from
Columbia. My good fellow, can't you do something for us?" "Ob course!"
said our colored friend, promptly. "I'll do all I can for you, marster.
I no nigga if I didn't 'sist de Yankees."

[Illustration: The Escape--fed By Negroes In A Swamp.]

The fugitives had heard so much from their fellow-prisoners of the
sympathy exhibited by the colored people of the South for Federal
soldiers, that they hesitated not for a moment to place the fullest
confidence in these humble friends. They thereupon explained their
precise situation, and told them the story of their recent escape. They
also learned from the negroes that they were returning to their masters,
having come from Columbia, where they had been working upon a new prison
stockade, now abandoned on account of the expected approach of General

The name of their "Master" was Steadman, and, slave-fashion, one of the
men was named "Ben Steadman." They were directing their steps to Mr.
Steadman's plantation on the Augusta Road, and the fugitives therefore
decided to keep in their company and use them as guides. In the nature
of things, unless guided by some one accustomed to traveling in a
country so bare of landmarks, they would lose ground continually, even
if they ever reached their destination.

One of the negroes with that shrewdness engendered by slavery, in which
cunning is the only protection against injury; and strength and courage
count for nothing; suggested that so large a party would attract
attention, and the safety of the two officers might be endangered. It
was therefore finally determined that Ben should act as guide, and the
other darkies take a different route home. Another advantage to be
derived from dividing the party was that in the event of the fugitives
being pursued, the double trail would mystify the hounds. Ere long Ben
reached a bridle-path, which plunged into the wood, and as it offered
superior advantages on account of its narrowness and privacy, and from
the fact of its leading to the plantation of a well-known planter and
therefore less likely to be suspected of being the road taken by escaped
prisoners, the little party concluded that this was their safest route.
They therefore hurried forward upon their way, Ben preceding them in the
double capacity of guide and scout. A few miles from its commencement
this path led to a blind road, which Ben informed them was seldom
traveled by any in the night-time but men of his own race, so they
turned into it, and had become quite joyful and careless, when suddenly
the challenge, "Who goes there?" rang out in the stillness, and the next
moment Ben was halted by the sentry of a Confederate picket consisting
of eight men, who had bivouacked just off the road. Ben boldly advanced,
and our two friends, it must be admitted, with more discretion than
valor, started off like lightning, their "guide" meanwhile amusing the
guard with a description of how "Dem two oder dam niggas got skeered,
kase dey thought Mars Sentinel must be a dam Yank!"

No harm could come to Ben, as he was in a condition to prove that two
other negroes had left Columbia with him, and the fugitives therefore
feeling that _he_ was safe, concealed themselves among the brush and
awaited events. Ben shortly passed their place of hiding, in custody,
_en route_ to the Reserve, and our friends were not a little amused,
despite their danger, to hear Ben's vigorous denunciation of "dem two
cowardly niggas," who had taken to their heels!

A few moments only elapsed before they were made aware, by certain
unmistakable tokens, that they were in dangerous proximity to the
Confederate encampment, and although nearly famished, for they had eaten
nothing since morning, it was deemed safest to lie _perdu_; so, thanking
the good Providence which had sped them thus far on their journey, they
lay down and slept.

The enemy's camp, which upon closer inspection, turned out to be simply
the resting-place of a local patrol, unconnected with any regular
command, broke up early in the morning, and Glazier and his companion
once more had a clear road. Although hungry from long fasting, they ran
swiftly over the swampy ground, and felt so elated to find themselves
again in a state of freedom, that they laughed and joked like boys
released from school, and pushed on until the verge of an extensive
morass was reached and passed, and they found themselves in a section of
country well wooded and watered, the alternate hills and vales
presenting a pleasing variety to the eye.

[Illustration: Pursuit Of Knowledge Under Difficulties.]

There was here also a public road, but it would have been dangerous to
travel thereon, and they therefore strode on beneath the trees and
umbrageous undergrowth of the wood. Having had no breakfast,
"blueberries" were not precisely the diet they would have selected for
dinner, but as _necessitas non habet leges_, they quietly munched their
berries, and we may hope felt grateful that matters were no worse. After
a while they made a sudden detour, crossing the high-road, and by so
doing, again broke the trail. Next they came to a clearing, but the
sight of a planter leaning against a fence, soon sent them back to the
friendly shelter of the wood. Late in the afternoon they came to a large
plantation on the border of which was a copse, in which they lay down
and watched for the opportunity of communicating with some of the house
slaves. At the expiration of about an hour, a lady, probably the
mistress of the estate, passed within a few yards of them, accompanied
by a troupe of merry children. They however went on their way, utterly
unconscious of the close proximity of two terrible Yankees!

Here our fugitives remained quietly concealed until night, and then
cautiously crept away. They proceeded onward until they found themselves
near a junction of cross-roads. Arrived at this junction, matters looked
serious. Unlike mariners, they had no compass; unlike Indians, they were
inexpert at discerning a trail; and what was more appalling, they
distinctly saw reared up against the moonlit sky--a gallows! Our two
friends approached this object very cautiously. It was not an unusual
thing to hang spies, and not unfrequently those _mistaken_ for spies,
but to hang them on a regularly constructed gibbet was not usual; and
therefore while Lemon insisted that the black and skeleton-like object
that loomed against the horizon was a gallows, he still entertained some
doubt upon the subject, and determined to satisfy himself by a closer

The weird object before them proved to be an innocent guide-board--the
article of all others they most needed at that moment. Like the
celebrated laws of Nero, however, the _directions_ were posted very
high, but Lemon being tall, our hero mounted on his shoulders and by the
light of the moon deciphered the inscription. They had now no difficulty
in choosing their way. On they pushed therefore; and during the black
darkness of the night, crept through the tangled underwood, and over
swamps where loathsome, crawling things that shun by day the presence of
man, now seemed to seek his acquaintance. How mysterious are these dense
untrodden forests of the South! The very air one breathes is living.
Throughout the day a million chirping, whirring, twittering sounds,
salute the ear. The short grass beneath the forest trees moves, writhes,
and creeps with microscopic life, until the brain grows dizzy at the
sight. At night it is no less marvellous to hear the myriad denizens of
the swamps and woods; and terrible when your tread on some soft, velvety
substance reveals a sleeping snake, who, at the same moment, attacks you
with his poisonous fang, mayhap, fatally.

It is a singular, but well-accredited fact, that these great Southern
swamps have been yearly deteriorating, while the surrounding country has
been growing in civilization. Old writers tell us that the reptile life
now infesting them in such rank luxuriance had scarcely any existence
one hundred years ago. Colonel Byrd writes of the "Dismal Swamp:" "Since
the surveyors have entered the Dismal Swamp they have seen no living
creature; neither bird, beast, insect nor reptile, came to view. Not
even a turkey-buzzard will venture to fly over it, no more than the
Italian vulture will venture to fly over the filthy lake of Avernus; or
the birds of the Holy Land over the Salt Sea where Sodom and Gomorrah
once stood." And yet, in the present day, insect and reptile life swarms
there in every form through all the hours of the day and night!

Our fugitive friends, however, felt little inclination to philosophize
upon this subject. The hope of coming liberty strengthened their limbs,
and they bent all their energy to the task of moving forward; walking,
running, creeping, until the dawn of day approached, when weary and
footsore they sought some secure spot and lay down and slept--perchance
to dream of "Home, sweet Home"--perchance of "Camp Sorghum," and its
"chivalric" guards--perchance of the dreadful blood-hounds whose fatal
scent might even then be on their trail!



  Startled by hounds.--An unpleasant predicament.--A Christian
    gentlewoman.--Appeal to Mrs. Colonel Taylor.--"She did all she
    could."--A meal fit for the gods.--Aunt Katy.--"Lor' bress ye,
    marsters!"--Uncle Zeb's prayer.--Hoe-cake and pinders.--Woodcraft
    _versus_ astronomy.--Canine foes.--Characteristics of the
    slave.--Meeting escaped prisoners.--Danger.--Retreat and

It is the morning of November twenty-eighth, 1864. The sun has just
risen above the eastern hills, and his slanting beams fall upon the
goodly heritage of Colonel Alexander Taylor, "C. S. A." There are, as
yet, none of the usual features here of a war-stricken country;
everything around is rich and substantial. The residence is a stately
mansion in the Elizabethan style, and the lady who, accompanied by two
sweet children, walks the broad piazza, is evidently a refined
gentlewoman. The colonel himself, like a gallant (but mistaken) knight,
has "gone to the wars."

She marvels what makes "Rupert," a noble hound, that but a moment ago
stretched himself at full length across the hallway, rise and bound over
the lawn, barking loudly and fiercely as he runs. She calls him--at
first gently, and then peremptorily, until the old hound with evident
reluctance obeys the summons, and crouches at her feet. She then directs
a negro, whose tokens of age and long service are as pronounced as those
of his canine rival, to find out what there is in the clump of trees
beyond the north hedge, to excite "Rupert's" anger. The venerable negro,
with the deliberateness of his race, proceeds in the direction
indicated, but is saved the necessity of much exertion, by the startling
appearance of a young soldier in a motley uniform of gray and blue--his
coat of one color--his nether garments of another! He advances boldly
toward the house, and the lady scrutinizes the intruder. The result of
her examination shows her visitor to be a slight, but sinewy young man,
with a frank and honest expression, and seemingly not more than eighteen
years of age. The motley stranger drew near, and bowing gracefully
saluted her with, "Good-morning, madam."

The lady at once returned the salutation with a genial smile, that sent
a thrill of pleasure and confidence to his heart. Without further
ceremony he thereupon frankly and fearlessly informed Mrs. Taylor that
he and his companion were escaped Union prisoners; that they were in a
condition of starvation; and appealed respectfully but most urgently to
her as a woman, for humanity's sake, to assist them in their sore need
by giving them food. She at first hesitated, startled by such a request
from such a source. Her husband, she said, was an officer in the
Confederate service, and if it became known that she had assisted those
whom his government counted enemies, it would possibly bring reproach
upon him. Our young hero (for he it was) then addressed her somewhat
after the fashion of the unfortunate Ulysses in his appeal to the
goddess Calypso; recounted his misfortunes briefly, touched on the
terrible fate that awaited him and his companion, should they be
recaptured, and all doubtless in such moving terms that, like
Desdemona, the lady must have thought, if she did not exclaim:

    "'Twas pitiful--'twas wondrous pitiful!"

This is evident from the fact that she scarcely awaited the end of his
story, before assuring him that "she would do all she could," following
up that assurance in a few moments by offering the manly and polite
youth before her an abundant supply of fresh and excellent food; which,
she took the precaution of adding, was for himself and his comrade,
fearing possibly, from Glazier's famished look, he might consume it all
himself! She further assured her visitor that she would keep the secret
of his having been there; while he, in return, protested that should the
varying fortunes of war give him the opportunity of serving her husband,
he would do so at the risk of his life. With his haversack amply
replenished, an appetite like a wolf, faith in the goodness of God
strengthened, and belief in the perfection of some, at least, of the
fairest portion of creation greatly confirmed by this interview, he
rejoined Lieutenant Lemon, and the comrades proceeded forthwith to their
meal which was enjoyed with a zest known only to the starving. Before
reclining himself under the glittering stars, Glazier made this entry in
his diary: "Oh! ye who sleep on beds of down, in your curtained
chambers, and rise at your leisure to feast upon the good things
provided ... you never knew the luxury of a night of _rest_, nor the
sweets of a meal seasoned by hunger, and the grateful remembrance that
it was provided by woman's kindly heart, which, wherever it may beat,
sooner or later responds to the tale of misfortune."

After a sleep so profound as to extend several hours beyond the time
they had agreed upon as best adapted for the resumption of their
journey, they found themselves much refreshed and strengthened, so much
so that by sunrise they had reached a small stream known as Black Creek,
one of the tributaries of the North Edisto River. Here, in crossing a
bridge, they very opportunely encountered a colored laborer, who was on
his way to work, and who cheerfully turned aside to guide them to a hut,
where he assured them they could remain in safety throughout the day.
The proprietor of this refuge for hunted wayfarers was a certain "Aunt
Katy"--an aged negress, whose heart and hut, and such fare as her scanty
larder contained, were always at the disposal of the distressed. Hearing
that the strangers were Union soldiers who had escaped from Columbia,
she approached them with the following salutation: "Gor A'mighty bress
yer, marsters; dis is de yeah ob jubilee, shua, when de Yankees come to
Aunt Katy's. Come in, marsters, come in!"

Accordingly they entered, and, by some occult process, the fact of their
presence soon became known to the entire slave population of the
neighborhood, who came flocking in throughout the day. Such an important
occasion would have been incomplete without a prayer-meeting, Aunt Katy
herself being a pillar of the Colored Methodist Church, and it was not
long before the whole assemblage were on their knees, invoking every
imaginable blessing upon the cause of the Union and its defenders, and
every evil upon its opponents. Among other things Captain Glazier
records, as a feature of this impromptu prayer-meeting, is the petition
of a venerable prototype of "Uncle Tom," named Zebulon, "who appeared
to be a ruling spirit in the party." This good man's enthusiasm burst
forth as follows:

"Oh Lor' Gor A'mighty! We'se you-ah chillen as much as de white folks
am, and we spec yo to heah us widout delay, Lor'; cause we all is in
right smart ob a hurry. Dese yere gemmen has runned away from de
Seceshers, and wants ter git back to de Norf! Dey has no time to wait!
Ef it's 'cordin' to de des'nation of great heben to help 'em et'll be
'bout necessary for dat ar help to come right soon.

"De hounds and de rebels is on dar track. Take de smell out ob de dogs'
noses, O Lor'! and let 'Gypshun darkness come down ober de eyesights ob
de rebels. Comfoozle 'em, O Lor'! dey is cruel, and makes haste to shed
blood. Dey has long 'pressed de black man, and groun' him in de dust,
and now I reck'n dey 'spects dat dey am agwine to serve de Yankees in de
same way.

"'Sist dese gemmen in time ob trouble, and lift 'em fru all danger on to
de udder side ob Jordan dry-shod.

"And raise de radiance ob your face on all de Yankees what's shut up in
de Souf. Send some Moses, O Lor'! to guide 'em frue de Red Sea ob
'flickshun into de promised land.

"Send Mr. Sherman's company sweepin' down frue dese yere parts to scare
de rebels till dey flee like de Midians, and slew darselves to sabe dar

"Let a little de best of heben's best judgments res' on Massa Lincum,
and may de year ob Jubilee come sure.

"O Lor'! bless de gin'rals ob de Norf--O Lor'! bless de kunnels--O Lor'!
bless de brigerdeers--O Lor'! bless de capt'ins--O Lor'! bless de
Yankees right smart. O Lor'! eberlastin'. Amen."

[Illustration: Uncle Zeb's Prayer.]

This very pertinent supplication and much more in the same vein, was
listened to with marked approval by the audience--a sonorous and
prolonged "Amen!" in which our friends heartily participated, greeting
the conclusion of Uncle Zeb's prayer. Our subject, in describing the
particulars of his escape, remarks that, notwithstanding the fact that
the secret of their retreat was known to some thirty or forty of these
poor slaves, neither he nor his companion entertained the shadow of a
doubt that the secret would be safe with them; and adds that, in
addition to their good faith, they possessed a remarkable talent for

The Steadman plantation was only three miles from Aunt Katy's hut, and
accordingly, Ben being sent for, soon made his appearance, and proffered
his valuable services as guide. The offer was thankfully accepted; but,
despite the preference of Glazier and his companion for the swamp as the
safest place of concealment, Ben prevailed upon them to visit his cabin,
where they were hospitably entertained by his wife and children. Having
been duly inspected as curiosities "from de Norf," our friends were
pleased to hear Ben instruct his little daughter to run up to the house
of his mistress and "snatch a paper." She soon afterward came running
back with the Augusta _Constitutionalist_, published that morning.

Having gathered from the newspaper a sufficiently intelligible idea of
the relative position of Sherman and his opponents, the fugitives bade
farewell to the family, and proceeded upon their way, crossing the river
by ten o'clock; and shortly after--Ben having parted from them--in
consequence of the complicated directions of numerous _blind-roads_,
they became confused, and, instead of pushing forward beyond the South
Edisto, as they had planned to do, halted early in the afternoon and
"pitched their tent" for the remainder of the day and night--said _tent_
having the sky for its roof as usual.

Their camping-ground upon this occasion was in the heart of a dense pine
wood, where, notwithstanding the grim and spectral surroundings, they
slept soundly until after midnight, and then arose refreshed and ready
for another day's march on the road to freedom. Hoe-cake and pinders
(_anglicè_, peanuts) formed their only repast, which they found
sufficiently luxurious under the circumstances.

It now became necessary to find their bearings. There was no star
plainly visible, and they had not yet learned to take the moon as a
guide. Moreover, the heavenly bodies in Southern latitudes have so
different an appearance from those seen at the North, that they were
frequently in doubt as to the points of the compass. "I remember,"
writes Captain Glazier, "that it caused me great grief to find that the
North Star was much nearer the horizon, and seemed to have lost that
prominence which is given to it in higher latitudes, where it is a
guide, standing far above tree-top and mountain."

What the lofty stars failed to teach, however, they learned from humbler
signs. Glazier, in his youth, acquired the lesson in woodcraft, that
moss hangs heaviest upon the northern side of tree trunks; and then the
streams in this part of the continent, for the most part, flow towards
the southeast, so that our friends were not altogether without
indications of their position with regard to the points of the compass.

They were greatly annoyed by a serious obstacle to their safe progress,
which presented itself in the shape of a vast multitude of dogs, of all
sizes and every variety of breed. There were dogs of high degree, dogs
of low degree, and mongrel curs of no degree; and all these animals in
common were in possession of one ambition, namely, to nose out and hunt
a Yankee!

Consequently, from the deep-mouthed baying of the blood-hound, or the
mastiff, to the sniff and snarl of the rat-terrier, their music was not
agreeable to the fugitives, who had, however, to contend with this
difficulty, and surmount it.

Confining themselves to the pathless forest, the roads were now
frequently lost sight of for miles. Occasionally, in the effort to shun
the high-road, they would come suddenly upon a dwelling, and the
inevitable lank, yellow dog would pounce out upon them, and add wings to
their feet.

It was always a pleasant interruption of their lonely tramp to meet any
negroes. These people, so patient under oppression, so humble under
correction, were ever faithful and devoted to those whom they believed
to be the friends of their race. Our hero, of course, had rare
opportunities of observing the characteristics of this people. Simple,
harmless and gentle, crimes of violence among them were very rare, and
the cruelties practised upon them seem rather to have opened their
hearts to sympathy than to have hardened them into vindictiveness.

With the aid of many of these devoted people, Glazier and his friend
reached and crossed the North Edisto, the latter a task of some
magnitude. The river, at the point where they reached it, is not a
single stream, but a maze of creeks and bayous, all of which it was
necessary to cross in order to attain the opposite bank of what is known
as the South Edisto River.

While passing over a bridge that spanned one of the creeks, Glazier
heard footsteps upon another bridge in their rear; and so trained and
acute does the ear of man become when disciplined in such a school of
perilous experiences, that he knew at once they had nothing to fear from
those who followed; for, instead of the bold, firm tread of the man who
hunts, it was the uncertain, hesitating, half-halting step of the

"Escaped prisoners," whispered our two friends simultaneously, and
Glazier, stepping boldly forth, gave the challenge, "Who goes there!"

"With a trembling start," says our fugitive hero, "the foremost man
replied, 'Friends!'

"'Halt, friends! and advance one,'" commanded Lieutenant Glazier.

Very cautiously, and with the manner of one ready to turn at any moment
and dash into the recesses of the swamp, one of the strangers came
forward to within a few feet of his interrogator, and craning his body
over, peered nervously into his face. Thereupon a mutual recognition as
Federals was the result, and Lemon discovered that one of the new comers
had been a fellow-prisoner with himself. This made matters pleasant, and
although it was mutually agreed that it would be wise to separate, and
take different routes, both parties unconsciously protracted the meeting
until they were startled into caution by perceiving almost directly in
front of them, surrounding a large fire, a Confederate encampment. "It
proved to be a squad of tax-gatherers, going about the country with
quartermasters' wagons, collecting supplies."

Further progress was now impossible. The enemy occupied the only
practicable road in front, and they were flanked on both sides by large
ponds of water. Our party thereupon stealthily retreated into the woods,
where they finally concluded to make themselves contented for the
remainder of the night.



  Parting company.--Thirst and no water.--Hoping for the end.--The
    boy and the chicken.--Conversation of ladies overheard.--The
    fugitives pursued.--The sleeping village.--Captain Bryant.--The
    _alba sus._--Justifiable murder, and a delicious meal.--Darkies
    and their prayers.--Man proposes; God disposes.--An
    adventure.--_A ruse de guerre._--Across the Savannah.

On emerging from their place of concealment, the following morning, the
road proved to be once more open. The tax-collectors had departed.
Warned by the experience of the previous night the newly found friends
reluctantly parted company, Glazier and Lemon pursuing a separate route
from the others.

Our friends had suffered much in various ways since they shook the dust
of Columbia from their feet, but now a dire misfortune overtook them in
the total absence of water. The waters of the swamps were poisonous, and
their longing desire and hope was that they might soon come upon a
spring or stream to slake their burning thirst, which threatened to
unfit them for the exertion necessary.

The land, in the region of country they had now entered, was waste and
arid--for the most part sand, a few stunted trees being the sole
vegetation. These trees had nothing pleasant in their appearance, as
forest trees usually have. The branches seemed destitute of sap, as the
leaves were of verdure; they had not reached maturity, and yet
possessed none of the lithe grace of saplings.

Our fugitives were parched, fevered, and weak before they emerged from
this inhospitable tract of country, but at length reached a point where
the vegetation was fresher, and finally, to their great joy, discovered
a spring. Here, to use Glazier's own words, they realized "the value of
cold water to a thirsty soul." "The stream ran through a ravine nearly a
hundred feet in depth, while high up on the banks were groves of pines."

After their passage through the "Desert," they were in excellent
condition to appreciate the wild and solemn grandeur of the spot they
had now reached, and for a considerable time they could not make up
their minds to leave the place. At length, however, they resumed their
journey. December second found the two friends still far from their
destination, and by no means out of danger. It was one week only since
they bade adieu to Columbia, and yet many weeks seemed to them to have
passed. Still they were making considerable progress, and had by this
time reached a swamp near Aiken, South Carolina.

Having journeyed all night since quitting the secluded ravine, they were
ready once more to cast themselves upon the soft moss under a venerable
tree, near which was a bubbling spring. Here they slept soundly until
dawn, when a colored boy passing down a road which came within their
range of vision, attracted attention. The boy was carrying a basket, and
they were suffering very seriously again from hunger. Lemon followed,
and called to him: "Hold on, my boy; I want to see you!" The lad
muttered something, but the only word they could distinguish was
"chicken!" He then ran off as fast as his legs would carry him. The
lieutenant, with great emphasis, endeavored to reassure him, but it was
of no use. He ran as if a legion of evil spirits was at his heels, and
Lemon returned to his comrade very much disappointed and chagrined. "Now
they are sure to overtake us," said he, "we shall be prisoners again
before night!"

"Never fear," was the reply of his cooler companion; "as long as there
is a swamp in the neighborhood, we'll lead them a lively dance."

So the friends gathered up their belongings, and in a few minutes put a
considerable distance between themselves and their resting-place of the
preceding night. Finally they concealed themselves in a swamp about a
mile distant. A road bordered the margin of their sanctuary so closely,
that they distinctly overheard a conversation between three ladies who
passed. The chasing of a negro boy by a Yankee was the topic of their

This information made our friends more cautious, and it is well they
were so, for, towards evening, several mounted men armed with guns were
seen by them upon the main road leading to Aiken; their evident purpose
being to intercept the fugitives, of whose presence in their
neighborhood the boy had made report.

Forewarned was forearmed, and our hero and his companion determined to
give the enemy a wide berth. Again, therefore, plunging into the
recesses of a neighboring swamp, they went quietly to sleep, and slept
until midnight, when Glazier awoke to see thousands of stars glittering
through the spectral branches of the pines, and away off toward the
western horizon, a flood of silvery effulgence from the waning moon.

Entranced by the beauty of the scene, he awoke his comrade, and all
around being buried in profound silence, they proceeded on their way. It
was not long before they found themselves upon the outskirts of the
village of Aiken, and no practicable path upon either side presenting
itself, but one resource remained, namely, to steal cautiously through,
although this involved the imminent risk of discovery. On, therefore,
they walked until they came to the border of the village. They found it
dumb with sleep. Not a sound disturbed the silence. The very dogs, their
usually sleepless foes, appeared for once to have become wearied and
gone to rest.

There is something solemn about a sleeping town. The solitude of the
swamp and wood is solemn; but the ghostly stillness of a town, where all
its inhabitants lie buried in sleep, and no sign or sound proclaims the
presence of life in man or beast, is of so weird a character as to
produce a sensation of awe, akin to fear. The shadows that enwrapped
them as they came beneath the buildings, and the fitful gleams of
moonlight that fell upon them when streets were crossed, seemed not
lights and shadows at all, but strange, intangible things. And when at
length they reached the outer limit of the village, and the distant
woods were seen by the moon's rays, our travellers felt as if they had
been wandering in a graveyard, where the tombs were houses, and they
wished they were in the swamp again, where such uncanny fancies never
troubled them. When the toad and lizard, snakes and other loathsome
things, crawled around their swampy bed, they cared nothing; but the
dead silence of a cloudless night, brooding over a swarm of their
fellow-beings, brought with it a feeling they could not account for or
understand; and therefore it was with a sense of great relief they found
themselves at the outer edge of the town.

Their satisfaction, however, was somewhat moderated when, at a sudden
turn of the road, they abruptly came upon a man and a boy, who were
picking their way with such velvety tread that the two parties were face
to face before either was aware of the proximity of the other. The
strangers appeared to be the more alarmed, for they were just making a
secret and rapid detour with the view of debouching into a side street,
when, feeling sure that none but fugitives would be so anxious to escape
an interview, Glazier hailed them:

"Don't be uneasy, boys! We're friends! We're Yankees!"

His conjecture proved correct. The strangers were Captain Bryant, of the
Fifth New York Cavalry, and a friend. "They had," says Captain Glazier,
"a negro guide, who was to secrete them in a hut until the next night,
when they were to proceed, as we had done, and reach the line of freedom
by the nearest route."

The interview was brief, the parties differing as to which was the most
expedient route, and the discussion terminated by each taking the one he
thought best. Glazier and his comrade made off to a swamp, and upon
securing a safe resting-place, were overjoyed to find a venerable sow
and her litter approaching. They greeted the porcine mother, says our
friend, "otherwise than did wandering Æneas the _alba sus_ lying under
the hollow trees of ancient Italy," for, "enticing them with crumbs of
hoe-cake," they both in unison struck a juvenile porker on the head with
a heavy stick, and a mammoth knife, the gift of Uncle Zeb, came into
requisition, and did good service. Over the embers of a fire kindled in
a hole in the ground, they roasted the little fellow, and made a
delicious meal.

They had scarcely finished their unexpected feast, when the thud of an
axe in the distance smote on their ears, and Glazier crept cautiously
out to reconnoitre. The wood-cutter proved to be a colored lad, and
having a vivid recollection of their scampering friend of "chicken"
fame, he hailed him in this wise: "Hello, Sambo!"

This manner of salute left the party addressed, in doubt as to the
colors under which the young white stranger served. Off went his hat,
therefore, and he stood grinning and waiting to hear more. Our hero
walked quickly up to him, and frankly explained the situation,
concluding, as usual, with a request for information and aid. Both were
promptly tendered, and shortly after, the fugitives were concealed in a
corn-fodder house. Here, in the evening, a motley and humorous
delegation of darkies waited upon them and after ventilating their sage
opinions upon the conduct of the war, organized a prayer-meeting; and,
if the fervor of human prayer availeth, they doubtless damaged the cause
of Secession materially that evening.

The topographical knowledge of these well-meaning friends appears to
have been at fault for had Glazier followed the route they advised,
instead of striking the railroad running from Charleston to Augusta, on
the west side of Aiken, which would have enabled them, by pursuing it to
the westward, to reach Augusta, they would have struck it on the east
side, and consequently by mistake have followed it towards Charleston,
precisely the place to which they did _not_ want to go.

"How far is it, my boy, by this road, to Drainside?" asked a
mud-splashed traveler of a shrewd lad by the roadside.

"If you keep on the way you are heading, and can manage the Atlantic and
Pacific on horseback," replied the boy, "it is 23,999 miles. If you turn
your horse's head and go right back, it is one mile."

Our friends were in a somewhat similar condition. Soon, however, in the
darkness, they came to a small village, where a freight train was in
waiting for an early start. They tried to conceal themselves on board
this train, but very fortunately for their safety they could not find a
hiding-place in or under the cars, and shortly afterwards discovered
that Charleston was its destination and not Augusta. Had they boarded
this train they would certainly have been recaptured in Charleston and
sent back to imprisonment. "A merciful Providence interposed," Glazier
writes. "Thus 'man proposes,' often to his own ruin, but 'God disposes,'
always to His own glory, and the good of his creatures."

A blood-hound was on their track in the course of the night, the deep
bayings being plainly audible, but his scent being at fault, the trail
of the fugitives was lost, and he shortly barked himself out of hearing.

When daybreak came and a passenger train filled with rebel soldiers and
recruits swept past them, setting up a savage yell at sight of the
pedestrians, it was feared by the latter that the train might be stopped
with a view to their capture, so they once more concealed themselves in
the wood.

The sound of heavy cannonading reassured them as to the proximity of
Federal troops; but, where was Augusta? Accurate information on this
point was absolutely essential before further progress was made; and
Lemon was commissioned to obtain it. He was so far successful that he
learned from some negro wood-choppers--much to the chagrin of both--that
they had been walking all night in the opposite direction from Augusta,
that is, on the direct road to Charleston! They also learned, what was
much more cheering, that they could cross the Savannah River, at a point
twenty miles below Augusta, at Point Comfort; that Sherman was making
straight for Savannah, and therefore their chances of ultimately falling
in with his army were by no means impaired.

No time was lost in moving forward in the direction indicated, and
during the night our hero met with an adventure which we cannot do
better than relate in his own words; he says: "We came to a fork in the
road, and after debating some time as to which course we should pursue,
I leaped over the fence and made for a negro hut, while several hounds
from the plantation house followed hard on my track. I managed, by some
tall running, to come in a few feet ahead, and bolted into the shanty
without warning or formality, slamming the door behind me to keep out
the dogs. A great stupid negro was standing before the fire, his hands
and face buried in fresh pork and hoe-cake, which he was making poor
work at eating. His broad, fat countenance glistened with an unguent
distilled partly from within and partly from without. Turning my eyes
from the negro to the untidy hearth, they were greeted, as were also my
olfactories, with a skillet of pork frying over the coals.

"Without troubling him to answer any questions, I opened the mouth of my
haversack and poured into it the dripping contents of the skillet. I
next observed that the ashes on the hearth had a suspiciously fat
appearance, and, taking the tongs, began raking among them. My
suspicions were verified, for two plump-looking hoe-cakes came to light,
which were also deposited in the haversack.

"Looking around still farther I saw what I had not observed before,
_Dinah's black head_, as she peered out from among the bed-clothes,
rolling two of the most astonished white eyes that ever asked the
question, 'What's you g'wine to do next?' Not seeing any practical way
in which I could answer her mute question, I said to Sambo, 'Call the
dogs into the house.' This he did hastily. I then asked, 'Uncle, what
road must _this rebel_ take for Tinker Creek?' 'De right han' one, out
dar', I reckon,' he answered. Again bidding him keep the hounds in the
house till morning, I rushed out to the road and joined my companion. We
made lively tracks for about three miles, after which we took it more
leisurely, stopping to rest and refresh ourselves at every stream that
crossed the road."

The winter was by this time fairly upon them, and sleeping in the open
air by no means a pleasant experience. They therefore made long marches,
and by the aid of an occasional friendly push from their negro allies at
length arrived in the vicinity of Point Comfort. This was on the seventh
of December, and the twelfth day of their pilgrimage. After being
somewhat alarmed by the proximity of a pack of dogs, with which some
boys were hunting, they escaped discovery, and securing another negro
for a guide, they on the same night found themselves upon the banks of
the Savannah River.

[Illustration: The Escape--crossing The Savannah At Midnight.]

A colored man's cabin, as usual, sheltered them during the day, and
their host and his dusky neighbors (many of whom flocked around to see
the Yankees, as was their custom) proving to be fishermen well
acquainted with the river, our friends prevailed upon one of their
number to undertake the task of carrying them across. The first
difficulty that presented itself was, where to find a boat; but their
host remembered, he said, a place upon one of the tributaries of the
Savannah where one lay, not exactly in good sailing trim it is true, for
the authorities had ordered the destruction of boats along all the
streams where escaped prisoners were likely to seek a passage, and this
craft had not escaped their vigilance; but he thought, by the liberal
use of pitch and cotton, materials easily obtainable in that
neighborhood, it could be made sufficiently water-tight to answer their
purpose. Accordingly, accompanied by their friendly Charon, with his
pitch-pot and cotton, they reached the spot indicated and found the

It was in a very dilapidated state, but "all night long the faithful
fellow worked, caulking and pitching," while the fugitives "lay
concealed in an old hollow beech log."

It was long after midnight before he had finished his task, and launched
the boat into the stream. She looked very shaky, but the extemporized
shipwright reassured them by saying confidently:

"She's ready, massa. I'll soon land you in Georgey."

They were scarcely, however, in the boat before she commenced to leak;
there was no help for it, so our adventurers betook themselves to
bailing the water out as fast as it entered, and the zealous negro
pulled away with all his might. They kept her afloat until within a
short distance of the wished-for shore, and then, seeing that if they
did not quit her she would certainly quit them, the two passengers
leaped out, and managed with some difficulty to ascend the beach.



  Alligators.--A detachment of Southern chivalry.--A scare.--Repairs
    neatly executed.--Misery and despair.--Virtue its own
    reward.--Hunger and desperation.--Audacity.--A Confederate
    officer.--"A good Union man."--"Two sights and a jambye."--A
    narrow escape.

Captain Glazier and his companion were not insensible to the danger they
incurred of being drawn under the water by an alligator; animals they
knew to be numerous and voracious in that river, and were therefore not
slow in quitting its banks. So, bidding a hearty good-bye to their
humble companion, who was already busy re-caulking his boat for the home
voyage, they once more plunged into the recesses of the swamps,
intending to push forward as far as possible before the morning dawned.

They wended their way through a Southern cypress swamp. Some distance
back from the river they could perceive a large plantation-house, with
its out-buildings and accessories, protected by groups of oak and beech;
but they dared not approach it. Under the far-reaching and sheltering
cypress they pursued their way.

The cypress here attains considerable height, the branches issuing from
a trunk formed like a cone; but occasionally they are to be seen of very
stunted growth. Around the full-sized tree are frequently to be found a
whole family of dwarfs, nature having arrested their growth when from
one to ten feet high. These would present an unsightly look, were it not
for the mantle of Spanish moss that envelops, and gives them a graceful
and picturesque appearance.

Large alligators lay along the bayous, and on every prostrate log,
watching the movements of Glazier and his companion. "They were," he
says, "apparently pleased at our misfortunes, and sent towards us
loving, hungry glances." As soon as approached, these "wardens of the
marshes" would hobble to the edge of a bayou, and allow themselves to
fall in; their eyes remaining above water blinking at the invaders, as
if inviting them to follow. They were probably, as Glazier observes, "a
detachment of Southern chivalry doing duty on their own grounds."

Finally, emerging from the swamp they entered a corn-field, and
discovered a delicious spring; and not far off, a friendly negro. They
arranged to meet him here at eight o'clock, at which hour he returned
and piloted them to some of his friends a short distance off. They were
several times upon the point of being discovered--once by a planter, and
again by a number of white children, who, attended by their nurse, and a
pack of curs, approached within a few feet of their hiding-place. Our
friends gradually edged themselves towards a thicket, which was distant
about four miles from Briar Creek, the latter being eighteen miles from
Millen--the junction of the Augusta branch and the main line of the
Central Railway of Georgia.

At this thicket, feeling very weary, our fugitives threw themselves on
the ground, and were soon asleep. Nothing occurred to disturb their
slumber; but, on awaking, their consternation was great to find
themselves guarded by sentinels! Four large hounds stood looking down
at them with an air of responsibility for their safe-keeping; snuffing
occasionally at their persons to discover, probably, if they had the
scent of game. This indicated an alarming condition of things. And the
fear fell upon them that the owner of the hounds had discovered them
while they slept, and they were again prisoners. But their alarm soon
subsided. No human being appeared; and the dogs seemed to consider their
responsibility at an end, now that the slumberers were awake; and
walking around them in the most natural manner, with much show of
dignity, trooped away without even a parting salute, but greatly to the
relief of our alarmed friends. They were soon after confronted by
another source of affright. This was the approach of a large cavalry
patrol, which came so near their place of concealment, that they were
compelled to forego a fire, cold as it was, and eat their sweet potatoes
raw--the only rations left them. They however escaped observation.

They knew nothing of the whereabouts of General Sherman; but certain
unmistakable indications satisfied them that they were now approaching
the scene of military operations. Bridges destroyed, while others were
under the guard of bodies of soldiers; large herds of stock driven by
the planters themselves to the recesses of the swamps and forests for
protection; the hurrying across country of men on horseback and afoot,
and the general appearance of excitement and unrest that prevailed
around them, convinced Glazier and his companion that the formidable
Sherman was not very distant.

It was hard to be deprived of the comfort of a fire at such an inclement
season, for the weather had become intensely cold, and rain fell
incessantly. A merciful Providence, however, directed their steps
towards a spot where an aged negro was cutting wood and warming himself
at a fire by turns, and they were thus enabled to thaw their frozen
garments and gather some warmth in their numbed limbs. With the aid of
the old negro, they improvised a rude tent by means of their blankets,
and on leaving for his supper, he promised to return in the evening with
some hoe-cakes. This promise he faithfully fulfilled, and remained to
cobble Glazier's shoes into a condition of comparative comfort. During
the day the shoes had threatened to part company with their owner and
leave him barefoot.

The aforesaid shoes having been subjected to the process of repair, our
hero at first demurred to their liberal dimensions, but learned, partly
from the cobbler and partly from experience, that as the _'possum skin_
(which formed the uppers) began to dry, it acquired the hardness and
durability of _horn_; and hence, extra space became necessary. The shoes
lasted him till the end of his adventures, and are still preserved as a
memento of auld lang syne.

The following day was passed in the swamp, a wretched, dispiriting,
drizzling rain, falling from morn till night, bringing the temperature
down to zero. They recommenced their journey at dark despite the
weather; preferring to push ahead rather than seek shelter again, with
their friends, and so delay their progress. Thus they tramped wearily
along, until the small town of Alexander was reached, and by this time
their condition had become so desperate, that they knocked at the first
cabin they came to. A white woman, in reply to their inquiry, as to
which was the road to Millen, said "she did not know." And now, for the
first time since their escape from Columbia, a feeling of despair took
possession of them. They were cold, hungry, worn out, nearly naked, and
shelterless, and such was their misery and despair, that had they not
suddenly stumbled upon a large frame building used by negro laborers on
the railroad, they would have been recaptured from utter powerlessness
to seek concealment, or have fallen by the wayside and died.

Here, however, they met with a generous reception, and obtained the
information they sought. After exchanging some kind words with these
humble people, who heartily sympathized with them, Glazier and his
comrade proceeded on their way.

Everything went well until they unexpectedly came to the banks of a
considerable stream, and, after a careful search, failed to discover any
practicable means of crossing it, except by fording. The fact of its
being fordable gave rise to an incident with a _moral_, and as the
gallant captain relates the story we will quote his own words:

"Sitting," he writes, "on a log, and ruminating over our chances, a very
selfish piece of strategy suggested itself. Accordingly, I said to
Lemon, 'There is no use of both getting wet; we can carry each other
over these streams. If you will carry me over this, I will carry you
over the next,' I said, 'these streams,' although only one was before
us, and the most prominent thought in my mind was that, in all
probability, there would be no other.

"Lemon somehow failed to see the point, and consented. Accordingly,
taking off our shoes, I mounted on the lieutenant's shoulders, as
school-boys sometimes carry each other, and he staggered through the
stream with me, doing no worse than wetting my feet. This worked well.
I congratulated myself, and gave a generous sympathy to Lemon in his
shiverings. The chances were ten to one, I thought, that the carrying
business was at an end, when suddenly another stream, wider than the
first, rose up in the darkness before us. There was no use in wincing,
and I stripped for the task. The lieutenant ascended to the position he
had fairly earned. I plunged into the water. The middle of the stream
was reached in safety, when, through no fault of mine, either the water
became too deep, or my back became too weak for the burden, and the
consequence was, the worthy gentleman was nearly as well soaked as
myself when we reached the opposite shore. Selfishness, as well as
virtue, sometimes brings its own reward."

They crossed three other streams during the night, but, by mutual
consent, the carrying contract was canceled, and each did his own
wading. "Thus," adds the captain, "another grand scheme for human
elevation fell to the ground!"

Weary and wet to the skin, they persevered in their onward course, until
they reached another cypress swamp, and discovered a road through it,
which had evidently been the scene of a recently fought battle. Fences
and buildings were razed to the ground, while fragments of military
equipments were scattered about profusely--broken muskets, spent
cartridges, and dead cattle; all told the story of a late conflict.

Our fugitives had no means of learning at the time any particulars of
the supposed fight, but were afterward informed that less than a week
previous to their being on the spot, General Kilpatrick's cavalry and
the Seventeenth Army Corps had swept like an avalanche along that road.

The temperature by this time had somewhat moderated, and Glazier and his
companion, thinking it unlikely the road would be much used for a time,
concluded that they might with safety lie down and obtain some necessary
rest and sleep. In their exhausted condition, they slept through the day
and the greater part of the following night, arousing themselves with
difficulty for the work still before them.

Judging from the fact that many of the dead horses seen on the road bore
the brand of the "United States," and from other indications, they
arrived at the conclusion that the Union forces were not very distant,
and that they themselves were now possibly in the wake of Sherman's
army. This being the case, the hope revived in their breasts of soon
joining their friends--unless they had the misfortune to be picked up by
the enemy's scouts. Hence, having lost so much of the night, they
decided to travel this time by day, and at once put their determination
into practice. Glazier and his friend soon discovered, however, that
they were not expedited in their journey to any great extent--the
streams being greatly swollen by the recent rains, formed a serious
obstacle to their further progress.

They also felt that traveling by daylight was attended with much hazard
to their safety. One advantage of journeying through a part of the
country lately traversed by an invading army, was found in the fact of
there being much smouldering fire along their line of march, and thus
our friends ran no risk of attracting attention by approaching these
fires at their several halting-places. This circumstance afforded one
element of comfort--_warmth_. But another, still more important, was
lacking, namely--_food_.

They had traveled the entire day without meeting a single negro, and
hence, their commissariat was _non est_, and gaunt hunger created in
them a sense of desperation. In this state they reached, after sunset, a
plantation, where no house appeared but a number of humble shanties;
and, weary, starving and desperate, they boldly advanced to the door of
the best-looking cabin, and knocked for admission.

"Who's thar?" was answered in a tone, common to the poor whites and
blacks of that section, that afforded no indication of the color of the
speaker. That, however, was the first thing to determine before
proceeding further. So our hero replied, interrogatively: "Are you black
or white in there?" "Thar aint no niggahs heah," was the response, and
the indignant tone of its delivery placed it beyond doubt that they had
fallen upon a family of "poor whites." Glazier thereupon changed his
voice to that of the "high-toned" rebel, and asked why he kept an
officer of the Confederate army waiting for admittance. The man
reluctantly opened the door, and the _soi-disant_ Confederate demanded
in an imperious tone, "How long is it since our army passed here?"

"What army?" was the cautious query, before an answer was vouchsafed.

"Why the rebel army, of course!"

The man hereupon stated that Wheeler's cavalry had passed by a week
before, following Sherman's rear guard.

"How far is it to General Wheeler's headquarters?" asked Lieutenant

"I dun'no!" growled the other; "but I guess it's a right smart

To other questions, as to the possibility of obtaining one or more
horses and mules, and even a suggestion that something to eat would not
be unwelcome, the fellow protested that the ---- Yankees had stripped
the country of everything, and left them neither horses, mules, nor
anything to eat. Through the intervention of his wife, however, Glazier
finally obtained some bread and sweet potatoes; and, delivering a
lecture to him upon the gross ingratitude of treating in such a
niggardly manner a soldier who had left a home of opulence and comfort,
to battle for _his_ rights and liberties, with much more of a similar
audacious character, he left the house.

Time, however, was too precious to be wasted, and, at the conclusion of
the meal, they hurriedly resumed their march.

A solitary planter passed them, returning their carefully-worded
salutation, and, evidently mistaking them for Confederates, volunteered
the information that "our cavalry"--meaning Wheeler's, had passed that
point last Tuesday. He was barely out of view, when they overtook a
couple of negroes going to their work; and of them Glazier inquired the
distance to the nearest plantation, receiving for answer, "Jess a mile,
massa." "Are there any white folks there?" asked our hero. "Narry one,
massa," was the reply; adding, "Dat ar planter is what dey call a
Beeswaxer"--meaning a Bushwacker, "and Massa Sherman took dem all orf."
Not wishing to commit themselves by imprudently revealing their true
character, Glazier asked them indifferently, if they had seen any of
Wheeler's cavalry lately. To which one of them responded, "Dar's right
smart of dem down at Mars' Brown's, free mile from de swamp, and dey's
hazin' de country all 'round."

This intelligence was not encouraging, but our friends thought it the
wiser course to proceed at once to the plantation the negro had
described. They soon reached the place, and, finding that the dwelling
of the owner was closed, they, without delay, advanced to the nearest of
the smaller tenements, such as were usually occupied by slaves.

Glazier did not pause to knock at the door, but boldly raised the latch
and entered. He expected to see the usual negro auntie with her brood of
pickaninnies, or to meet the friendly glance of one of the males, and
therefore walked in very confidently, and with a pleasant smile. This,
however, soon changed to a look of amazement, when he found himself face
to face with a Confederate officer in full uniform. Quick as lightning,
our hero determined upon his course.

"Ah, sir!" he exclaimed, with all the coolness he could assume, "I
perceive we are in the same service. I can only hope you have not been
so unfortunate as myself."

"How unfortunate may you have been, sir?" the _vis à vis_ inquired.

"Why, at the late cavalry fight at Waynesboro', I lost my horse, having
him shot under me. I have not had the good fortune to obtain another,
and the consequence is, that I have been compelled to walk the whole
distance to this point."

"I reckon, then, stranger, our cases are not altogether dissimilar," the
Confederate rejoined; "I had my horse killed there, too, but luckily got
a mule."

[Illustration: A Mutual Surprise.]

In anticipation of an inquiry which, if addressed to himself, might lead
to unpleasant complications, Glazier now asked: "What command he was
attached to?" "Forty-third Alabama Mounted Infantry," said the other;
and then put a similar question. "Third South Carolina Cavalry," said
Glazier, feeling that he would be more at home as a trooper than an
infantry soldier. To carry out his assumed character, he added some
remarks regarding Sherman's barbarities, and was just congratulating
himself upon the gullibility of the Confederate, when his apprehensions
were revived by a remark, that it was "strange a rebel officer should be
dressed in a Federal uniform."

"Not at all, sir," was the quick response, "a poor fellow must wear what
he can get in times like these. I have not had a full equipment since I
entered the service, and hang me, if I ever expect to get one. In the
fight at Waynesboro' we captured a few Yanks, and I just stripped one
fellow after he died, and took his clothes."

This explanation appeared to satisfy the rebel officer, as he remarked,
"that was a good idea, and I wish I had been as sensible myself." After
inquiry about the probability of obtaining some "grub" from the auntie,
whose hut he supposed the place to be, and receiving a discouraging
reply, Glazier was advised to call upon a Mr. Brown. The property of
this _loyal_ gentleman had been protected from seizure by General
Sherman, on account of his having claimed to be a "good Union man," and
by General Wheeler, because he was a "good rebel," and his larder was
described to be, in consequence, well stocked. Our hero prepared to
depart, first earnestly inquiring the road to Mr. Brown's residence.

"About two sights and a jambye," said the Alabamian, which interpreted,
meant, twice as far as they could see, and the width of a swamp.

Having obtained all the information he desired, without the remotest
intention of availing himself of the "good Union man's" hospitality,
Glazier said "good-day," and rejoined his friend. They made the best of
their way along a path, until a turn carried them out of the rebel
officer's sight, then wheeled suddenly round, and ran rapidly for a
considerable distance in the opposite direction to Mr. Brown's.



  Fugitive slaves.--A rebel planter.--The Big Ebenezer.--A sound of
    oars.--A _ruse de guerre_.--Burial of a dead soldier.--A free
    ride.--Groping in the dark.--"Who goes there!"--Recaptured.--_Nil
    desperandum._--James Brooks.--Contraband of war.--Confederate
    murders.--In the saddle again.--A dash for freedom.--Again
    captured.--Tried as a spy.

Our hero had been somewhat impressed with the subdued tone and manner of
the Confederate officer with whom he had lately parted. To some extent
he manifested a discouraged and cowed bearing, and this, taken with some
other circumstances in their recent experience, led our friends to hope
that the end was not very remote.

After bidding adieu to the Confederate, they walked about two miles
before discovering a place of concealment in another swamp. Here they
unexpectedly came upon a party of negroes sleeping around a large fire.
They proved to be fugitive slaves, who had abandoned their homes in
Burke County, Georgia, to follow in the rear of Sherman's army. They had
formed part of a body of several hundred persons of all ages and both
sexes, who had escaped and sought refuge upon an island in Big Ebenezer
Creek, and had been inhumanly shelled out by the Confederates. Thence
they had scattered over the country in small bands, and the present
detached party were working their way back to their masters. Captain
Glazier despatched one of them with a haversack in search of some food
among the resident colored people, and the result was so far
satisfactory that our friends were put in possession of a good supply of
sweet potatoes.

After another march, and while still in the swamp, they heard
wood-choppers, and Lemon started to reconnoitre. Guided by the sound of
the axe, he approached a small clearing, and seeing a negro, as he had
expected, wielding the axe, walked forward to him, but was suddenly
startled by observing a burly white man sitting on a log, smoking and
looking on. They eyed each other for a moment in silence, when presently
the planter demanded in a blustering voice, "What are you doing here, in
a blue uniform?" Lemon was not slow to answer in a corresponding tone,
"I am serving my country, as every loyal man should do: what have _you_
to say about it?"

"I believe you're a d----d Yankee," said the planter. "You're welcome to
your opinion, old Blowhard," responded Lemon. "This is a free country; I
_am_ a Yankee--all but the d----d--and now what do you propose to do about
it?" (All this in an assumed tone of bluster, as the best adapted to the
situation.) "We'll see! we'll see!" rejoined the planter, and at once
started in a direct line for his house. Lemon lost no time, but returned
as quickly as possible to his comrade, and without any deliberation they
evacuated the enemy's country with as much expedition as their tired
legs were capable of exerting. Their ears were soon saluted with the
music of a pack of hounds let loose on their track by the burly rebel,
and the affair would have had a disastrous ending if they had not
opportunely encountered a considerable stream, and by wading through it
for nearly a mile, succeeded in cutting off the scent of the hounds.

The planter had raised a hue and cry for miles around, and our hunted
friends, from their covert, saw mounted men patrolling the corduroy road
through the swamp, seemingly under the belief that the "Yankees" would
be driven to use this highway eventually, and thus fall an easy prey
into their hands. The man-hunters, however, found themselves at fault,
for our hero had learned, in the hard school of experience, to
anticipate all such contingencies. He and Lemon therefore secreted
themselves until late in the night, determined to rob them of their

It was approaching midnight, December fifteenth, when the fugitives
crept cautiously to the margin of the swamp. A large fire denoted the
position of the planter's picket. They ventured out through the mud and
water with the purpose of flanking the enemy on their left--a hazardous
proceeding, and attended with much suffering from the intense coldness
of the water. In two hours, however, they had reached a point on the
opposite side of the encampment, and fearing discovery and pursuit, soon
placed two or three miles between themselves and the foe. Sometimes they
were made cognizant of the nearness of the parties in search of them, by
overhearing their conversation, which treated mainly of Sherman's march
to the sea, how it would affect the Confederacy, and similar interesting

Our friends passed the last picket at the edge of the swamp, but deeming
it unwise to relax in speed or vigilance, pushed forward to the banks of
the Big Ebenezer, which advanced them three miles further.

Here, upon the charred abutment of a burned bridge, Glazier and his
friend paused, and with the dark river in their front, debated how they
were to reach the other side. The dawn was just breaking, and through
the rising mist they could discern the opposite shore, but no
practicable mode of reaching it. They must not, however, remain here
after daybreak, and therefore sought and found a place of concealment,
again in the hateful swamp, but not far from the river's bank. They were
soon enjoying the rest and sleep of the weary.

Lemon was startled from his slumber by a sound resembling that of oars.
He awoke Glazier, and both listened intently, at a loss to understand
the meaning of such a sound in such a place. In a few minutes the noise
ceased, and looking cautiously from their hiding-place, they observed
two men pass near them, having the appearance of messengers or couriers,
with despatches, which they could plainly see in their hands. It at once
occurred to our hero and his companion that the boat in which these men
had rowed themselves up the river, could be made available for crossing
to its opposite bank. They found it moored to a tree, and at once
embarked and crossed the stream. To prevent pursuit they cast the boat
adrift, and as speedily as possible left "Big Ebenezer" behind them.

At a short distance from the river side Lemon stumbled over the dead
body of a soldier, which, upon examination, proved to be that of a
Federal. Our friends having no means of placing the body underground,
concluded to bury it in the river, and thus prevent to some extent its
desecration by dogs or other carrion-seeking animals that might find it
exposed. This was the best they could do under the circumstances, and
thus the poor body found a sailor's, if not a soldier's grave.

They had advanced not many paces again when they discovered two horses
tied to a tree, possibly the property of the two couriers whose boat
they had previously utilized. These they looked upon as fair spoil in an
enemy's country, and with little compunction and less ceremony mounted
and started on their way. A few miles brought them to the verge of the
wood, and the day was now breaking. They therefore reluctantly
dismounted, turned their steeds adrift for fear of detection, and
trudged forward on foot once more.

Soon they had reason to congratulate themselves on their prudence in
dismounting. Another quarter of a mile brought within view a Confederate
picket, but they were not themselves observed. They accordingly sought a
hiding-place among the thick undergrowth, and were soon asleep,
remaining so until midnight. They then turned the flank of the picket
and proceeded on their journey.

Long immunity from the peril of recapture had now inspired Glazier and
his friend with hope and full confidence in successfully attaining the
end of their struggles. The swamp, the river, the alligator, the
man-hunter, and worse than all, the blood-hound, had been met and
successfully overcome or evaded; and after three long weeks of travel
from the execrable and inhuman people, who had held them as prisoners of
war, and treated them worse than dogs, they now found themselves within
twenty miles of Savannah.

Resting himself upon a fallen tree, clad in rags, hungry and reduced
almost to the proportions of a skeleton by long fasting, Glazier with
his companion were able to congratulate themselves upon their wonderful
preservation thus far. All seemed to foreshadow their final triumph, and
their spirits were cheered, notwithstanding that food had not passed
their lips for the past thirty-six hours, with the exception of a few
grains of corn picked up by the way. Probably within the brief space of
twenty-four hours they would be again free and under the protection of
the glorious flag, in whose defence they had fought and suffered so

Flushed with their past success and elated with hope for the future they
recommenced their march. They had no exact information as to the
position of the Federal army, and were in fact groping their way in the
dark--figuratively as well as literally--every sense on the alert to
avoid the enemy's picket lines.

On reaching Little Ebenezer Creek about midnight they were chagrined to
find the bridge destroyed, but after reconnoitring for a time, were
satisfied that the coast was clear on the opposite side. Finding some
broken planks they constructed a raft and paddled themselves across the

They were now on the Savannah River Road, over which Kilpatrick's
cavalry and the Fourteenth Army Corps had passed but a week before. Old
camping-grounds were numerous along their way, and each was examined
closely for any bread or other eatables they thought might have been
left by the army.

[Illustration: Recaptured By A Confederate Outpost.]

They were closely engaged in this search, when "Who comes there?" was
gruffly shouted by a voice near them.

"Friends," promptly answered Glazier.

"Advance one!" commanded the picket.

"I advanced promptly," writes Captain Glazier, in the history of his
capture and imprisonment, "and arriving near my captors found them to be
mounted infantry. They were sitting upon their horses in the shade of
some cypress-trees. One asked, 'Who are you?' to which I replied, 'A
scout to General Hardie, and must not be detained, as I have important
information for the general.'

"The picket replied, 'I'm instructed to take every person to the officer
of the picket that approaches this post after dark.'

"'I can't help it, sir. It is not customary to arrest scouts, and I must
pass on.'

"'You cannot; I must obey orders. I do not doubt the truth of your
assertion; but until you have seen the lieutenant, you will not be
allowed to pass this post.'

"Finding that I had met a good soldier I saw that it was useless to
trifle with him, and tried to console myself with the thought that I
should be able to dupe the officer; and as we were hurried on towards
the reserve of the picket my mind was occupied in arranging a plan for
our defence, as spies to the great rebel chief. Arrived at the reserve
we found nearly all asleep, including the lieutenant, in close proximity
to a large rail-fire.

"A little rough shaking soon roused him up, and, rubbing his eyes, he
asked, 'What's wanted?'

"I quickly answered, 'I'm surprised, sir, that scouts to our generals
should be arrested by your picket.'

"He said, 'My instructions are positive, and no man can pass this post
without examination.'

"'Very well, then,' I said, 'be good enough to examine us at once.'

"'Have you passes?'

"'No, sir; not at present. We had papers when we left the general's
headquarters; but having been scouting in Northern Georgia, for the past
two weeks, our papers are worn out and lost.'

"'You have some papers about you, I suppose?'

"Thinking that by answering in the affirmative, and producing quickly an
old package of letters which had been received while in Libby Prison,
that none of them would be examined, I hastily drew them from the
side-pocket of my jacket and held them before me, saying, 'I hope here
are enough, sir.'

"The lieutenant's curiosity led him to take one which had been received
from Colonel Clarence Buel, of Troy, New York. He held it near the fire,
and noticing the date, turned his eyes towards me and again to the
letter; the second glance seemed to satisfy him that I was not a rebel,
and he remarked very indignantly, 'Then you are scouting for General
Hardie, are you? I believe you are a d----d Yankee spy! and if you were
to get your deserts I should hang you to the first tree I come to,' Said
I, 'Lieutenant, do not be too hasty. I can convince you that I have been a
prisoner of war, and if you are a true soldier I shall be treated as

"Becoming a little more mild he gave us to understand that we should
start at ten o'clock the next morning for Springfield, the headquarters
of General Wheeler.

"After detailing a special guard for the prisoners, and instructing them
to be on the alert, the lieutenant laid himself down by the fire,
leaving us to reflect upon the hardness of fate, and the uncertainties
attending an effort to escape the clutches of a vigilant enemy."

Glazier did not despair, but at the first opportunity communicated to
Lemon his determination to reach the Federal lines at all risks; he
would never return to South Carolina a prisoner; the horrors of
prison-life and the privations and sufferings they had already endured,
should never be repeated in his case, but rather--welcome death! Their
enemies--albeit fellow-countrymen and _Americans_--were inhuman and
barbarous, and before putting himself in their hands again, he would
submit to be hung by bushwhackers, or torn to pieces by blood-hounds.
Their case was now desperate, and for his part he would take the first
chance that offered of getting away. Our hero thought he could count on
Lemon's concurrence and co-operation. The men of the picket told him
they had been arrested at the outpost; and it was now clear that if the
fugitives had been so fortunate as to pass this picket, they could have
reached the Federal lines in less than an hour. Only a step intervened
between captivity and freedom--the thought was very disheartening.

An instance of exceptional kindness on the part of a Confederate must
not be omitted here. James Brooks, one of the picket, came to the
prisoners and invited them to partake of some hoe-cake and bacon. He
said he had been out foraging, and would share his plunder with them.
Having been without food for forty-eight hours, save a few ears of
corn, they eagerly embraced the generous offer. The hoe-cake was
produced and partaken of ravenously and thankfully. The other men of the
picket were disgusted at the liberality of their comrade, calling him a
"blue belly," and a fool to give good bread to a couple of d----d Yanks.
Like a true man, however, he made no reply to their brutal taunts, and
gave the captives a most excellent breakfast.

Having finished their welcome meal, they asked permission to bathe
themselves, under guard, in a little stream not many rods from the
reserve, which request was granted. Here the prisoners in their
desperation offered the guard one hundred dollars in Confederate scrip,
which had been given them by their negro friends, to assist them in
making their escape. The guards seemed to distrust each other, and
declined the proposal. They, however, said they would be right glad to
have the money, but feared to take it, as they were held responsible for
the safe return of the prisoners. The offer of the bribe was reported to
the lieutenant, who at once ordered the delinquents to be searched, and
all the scrip found upon them was confiscated, as contraband of war, and
appropriated to rebel uses, leaving our two unfortunate friends
penniless. They were further threatened with condign punishment for
offering to bribe the guard. One said "Shoot them;" another, "Let 'em
stretch hemp;" several recommended that they be taken to the swamp and
"sent after Sherman's raiders,"--referring, probably, to the manner in
which they had disposed of some of the Federal sick, who had been left
in the rear of the army. Of this incident Glazier writes: "I had been
told by the negroes that fifteen of our sick, who fell into the
hands of the rebels but a few days before our recapture, were taken to a
swamp, where their throats were cut, and their bodies thrown into a
slough hole. I cannot vouch for the truth of this statement, but it came
to me from many whose veracity I have no reason to question."

Let us in the name of humanity doubt it!

[Illustration: The Escape And Pursuit.]

At ten o'clock A. M. a mounted guard, consisting of a corporal and two
men, were detailed to march the prisoners to the headquarters of General
Wheeler. They had not proceeded far when Glazier assumed to be footsore,
and pleaded his utter inability to walk any further. Believing this, one
of the guards dismounted and helped him into the saddle. Our hero was no
sooner mounted than he decided that, come what would, he would make his
escape. In a few moments the guard who was on foot espied a black
squirrel darting across the road, and oblivious of his responsibility,
gave chase to it, Glazier looking on and biding his time. The squirrel
soon ran up a tree, and leaped from bough to bough with its usual
agility. Suddenly it halted on a prominent branch, seeming to bid
defiance to its pursuer. The carbine was instantly raised, and
discharged. Without waiting to note the result, Glazier, feeling that
_now_ was his opportunity, dashed off at a gallop, urging his horse to
the top of his speed. Before the squirrel-hunter could reload, he was
many yards away. The corporal in charge fired his revolver, and at each
discharge of the weapon, shouted to the fugitive to halt! but Glazier
gave no heed to the summons, and might have succeeded in reaching the
swamps and defied recapture, if he had not unfortunately galloped into a
rebel camp! Baffled, he turned his horse, and endeavored to cross an
open field, but the corporal continued to shout, "Halt that d----d
Yankee!" when a body of Texan Rangers from General Iverson's cavalry
division, some mounted and some dismounted, gave chase, hooting and
yelping, and finally overtook and compelled him to surrender.

The guard whose horse Lieutenant Glazier had ridden came up and vented
his rage at the escapade in no measured language. The Texans, however,
enjoyed the fun of the thing, and laughed at, and ridiculed him. Said
one, "You are a d----d smart soldier to let a blue-belly get away from
you--and on your own horse too!" Another joined in with, "Say, Corporal,
which of them nags can run fastest?" Nothing of course was said about
the _squirrel_!

On Lemon and his guard coming up they resumed their march to
headquarters--Glazier's lameness exciting no further sympathy, nor the
offer of another mount.

The escort with their charge reached General Wheeler's headquarters in
the afternoon, and the report handed in stated that, "the two prisoners
had been captured while attempting to pass the out-post, under the
pretence of being scouts to General Hardie."

Wheeler ordered them at once into his presence and questioned them

Captain Glazier thus graphically relates the interview:

"'Then you are scouting for Confederate generals?' said Wheeler.

"I replied, 'We would have rejoiced if we could have convinced your
out-post that we were.'

"'None of your impudence, sir! Remember that you are a prisoner.'

"'Very true; but when you ask questions, you must expect answers.'

"'What are you doing with that gray jacket?'

"'I wear it, sir, to protect myself from the sun and storm.'

"'Where did you get it?'

"'One of the guards at Columbia was kind enough to give it to me, when
he saw that I was suffering for the want of clothing to cover my

"'He could not have been a true rebel, to assist a Yankee in making his

"'He knew nothing of my intention to escape; and I believe he was at
least a kind-hearted man.'

"'Why don't you wear the Federal uniform? Are the Yankees ashamed of

"'By no means, sir! What few garments were spared me at the time of my
capture were worn out during a long imprisonment, and the clothing which
was sent on to Richmond by our Government during the winter of 1863 for
distribution among the prisoners, was, for the most part, appropriated
by your authorities.'

"'Like most of your contemptible Yankee crew, I believe you to be a
lying scoundrel, and you shall answer to the charge of spy.'

"'Very well, sir, I am compelled to await your pleasure; but you have
heard nothing but the truth.'

"'Guard! take the prisoners to the jail, place them in a cell, and keep
them in close confinement until further orders.'"

The above colloquy between Wheeler and his prisoners reflects small
credit upon him as a leader of "Southern Chivalry."



  In jail.--White trash.--Yankees.--Off to Waynesboro.--No rations.
    Calling the roll.--Sylvania.--Plan for escape.--Lieutenant John
    W. Wright.--A desperate project.--Escaped!--Giving chase.--The
    pursuers baffled.--Old Richard.--"Pooty hard case, massa."--Rebel
    deserters.--The sound of cannon.--Personating a rebel
    officer.--Mrs. Keyton.--Renewed hope.--A Confederate
    outpost.--Bloodhounds.--Uncle Philip.--March Dasher.--Suspicion
    disarmed.--"Now I'ze ready, gemmen."--Stars and
    stripes.--Glorious freedom.--Home!

In obedience to orders, Glazier and his comrade were at once marched off
to the county jail at Springfield, Georgia, then in the hands of the
military authorities. They were the only military prisoners confined
there, and were allowed the privilege of leaving their cell and going
into the yard for fresh air. They were not a little amused by the crowds
of wondering citizens who visited the jail to view the "two live Yanks."

These worthy citizens were greatly exercised that the prisoners should
be permitted to leave their cells, and called on the jailer to remove
them from the yard or they would take the keys into their own hands; but
the officer in command told them that he was personally responsible for
their safe-custody, and refused to remove them. These white Georgians
were a very primitive class of people. Utterly illiterate and
uninformed, their mode of speech was as bad as that of the most ignorant
slaves on the plantations. The term "white trash," whatever its origin,
was a most appropriate designation. No care had been taken to educate
them--no school-houses built; education being confined to the few whose
wealth enabled them to send their children to Northern schools, or to
engage a private tutor. Discovering that the prisoners were harmless,
many of these people asked them questions of a curious and comical
nature. They thought Yankees were imps of darkness, possessed of horns
and hoof, and, seeing that the prisoners were formed not unlike
themselves, were with difficulty persuaded that they were "Yankees."
Their idea of the causes and character of the war was ludicrous in the
extreme, and will hardly bear description--the negroes themselves being
far better informed upon this, as they were upon most other subjects.

A very brief examination before a hastily convened board of officers
resulted in a finding that the captives were "escaped prisoners of war,"
and not "spies." They were accordingly asked, where they were captured,
where imprisoned, when they escaped, etc.; and then a strong guard from
the Second Georgia Cavalry was detailed to convey them, with fifteen
other prisoners from the Fourteenth Army Corps, to Waynesboro.

From the other prisoners Glazier gleaned much useful information
concerning the situation of the Union lines, and also learned where the
rebel troops were stationed in Sherman's rear. Should he attempt another
escape, this knowledge would be valuable. The rebel escort cared very
little for the wants of their prisoners, and issued no rations whatever
to them--they themselves being entirely dependent on foraging for their
own supplies. As the unfortunate prisoners could not forage for
themselves they had to go without, a condition of things that spoke
little for the soldierly feeling of the guard. All attempts to elude the
vigilance of the latter during the day had failed, and as darkness drew
on, Glazier and his friend felt in very low spirits. They came to a halt
a few minutes before dark, and were quartered in an old building for the

In passing through a large swamp, just before halting, the water was so
deep that each man had to wade through as he best could. The guard
exerted themselves to their utmost to keep them together, but in spite
of their efforts to do so, one of the prisoners fell out, and his
absence was overlooked by the sergeant, although noticed by his
fellow-prisoners, who succeeded in convincing the sergeant that all were
present. The mode was this: Glazier found out the absent man's name, and
then volunteered to call the roll from a list in the sergeant's
possession. It being dark, a piece of pitch-pine was lighted, and the
list handed to Glazier, who proceeded to call the names. All answered,
except the absentee, when, according to previous arrangement, each
affirmed that no such man had been among them. The sergeant sapiently
concluded that the name had found its way upon the roster by some error,
and nothing further was said about it. Had this little ruse not been
resorted to, great efforts would have been made to recover the fugitive.
Picked men would have been detailed, hounds called out from the nearest
plantation, and a very short time would have convinced the unfortunate
victim how little hope there was for him who sought to shun the horrors
of prison-life by an escape.

[Illustration: The Escape From Sylvania, Georgia--running The Guard.]

We do not propose entering into any detail of this march into captivity,
more especially as our hero has himself fully and graphically described
it in his "Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape," compiled from a diary kept
during the whole period of his adventurous career, and published in
1865. We will merely state here that on Monday, December nineteenth,
1864, after a dreary march of twenty-five miles, the captives found
themselves encamped for the night at the little village of Sylvania,
Georgia; half-way between the point of their departure and that of their
destination, Waynesboro.

Glazier's mind, during the whole of the day, had been preoccupied with
but one subject--_how to escape!_--this problem excluding every other
thought or consideration of himself or his surroundings.

Early in the evening the prisoners were stationed on the porch of a
large unoccupied building, and here it was determined they should pass
the night. The villagers of Sylvania knew little of the sad realities of
war, having hitherto happily escaped the visits of the armed hosts. They
surrounded the men of the escort, and plied them with many curious
questions, which were good-naturedly answered with as much, or as little
exaggeration as good soldiers usually indulge in when confronted with
greenhorns. Their attention, thus agreeably occupied by the
simple-minded villagers, was in some degree removed from their charge,
and this little circumstance seemed propitious to Glazier, who was
watching intently his opportunity.

The sergeant had notified the prisoners that his foragers had returned
with a quantity of sweet potatoes and some corn-bread; that the former
would be issued to the "Yanks," and the latter to the guard. Orders
also were given to place all the food at one end of the porch, where a
fire had been kindled of rail fence; and the potatoes were to be served
to the prisoners from that point.

Glazier, under the pretence of desiring to use the fire for the purpose
of roasting the potatoes, obtained leave for all to remain outside on
the porch until after supper. This concession reluctantly granted, hope
sprang in his breast that the opportunity he so ardently sought was now
at hand. Quickly he determined upon his plan of operation, and seeing
Lieutenant John W. Wright, of the Tenth Iowa Volunteers, near him,
whispered in his ear an outline of his desperate project, and invited
the latter to join in putting it into execution. To this proposition,
without a moment's consideration, Wright consented.

The two candidates for freedom then sauntered towards the end of the
porch, conversing loudly and cheerfully upon general topics, and thus
excited no suspicion of their intentions. The hungry prisoners gathered
around the ration-board, when Glazier covertly signaled his companion,
and each suddenly clutched a good handful of the corn-bread. Under cover
of the increasing darkness, and screened from observation by the men who
stood between them and the guard, they quietly but rapidly, in a
stooping position, stole away, making for the edge of a neighboring
wood. Not a word was spoken, and in less time than it takes to record
it, they were concealed among the foliage and undergrowth; and,
befriended by the darkness, were completely masked from the observation
of the enemy.

Fortunately their flight was unobserved until after the distribution of
the rations, when the guard missed their corn-bread. This seemed to be
felt more than the loss of their prisoners, the sergeant exclaiming, in
euphemistic southern (according to Glazier), "By dog on't! the d----d
Yankee officers have done gone and took all our corn-bread. I'll have
them, if it costs me a horse!"

Calling out a corporal and four men, he quickly ordered them to go to
the nearest plantation for hounds, and to "bring back the two Yanks dead
or alive," adding that he "guessed they had taken the Springfield road,"
which was the nearest route to the Federal lines.

It happened, however, that the peremptory orders of the sergeant were
overheard by Glazier and Wright, who were hidden not many yards away in
the wood. Instead, therefore, of proceeding on the direct road by way of
Springfield, they retraced their steps in the dark, and by this means
baffled their pursuers. Having reached the Middle Ground Road, over
which they had lately passed, they bounded over it to avoid leaving
their foot-prints, and thus broke the trail. They were now in a large
and densely-wooded swamp, and, effectually concealed by the umbrageous
covering, sat down to a council of war.

We may here state that Lieutenant Lemon, the late faithful companion of
our hero, had been prevented from participating in the plan of escape,
and was eventually taken back to be re-tortured in his old quarters at
Columbia. Wright was also an escaped prisoner from Columbia, whom
Glazier had often met during his imprisonment there. He escaped from
"Camp Sorghum" a few days after Lemon and Glazier, but unfortunately was
recaptured just when he felt that he was about to bid adieu to his

Lieutenant Wright possessed one advantage for the dangerous and
desperate enterprise they had now re-entered upon--he knew the country.
By his advice, therefore, it was agreed to remain quietly concealed in
the swamp until night, when he would lead the way to the hut of a negro
who had befriended him during his previous attempt to escape.

About midnight he piloted Glazier to the hut of "Old Richard," a worthy
and kind-hearted negro, who had supplied him with hoe-cake and bacon
just before his recapture. Richard was in ecstasies on beholding his
friend, Massa Wright, again, whom he knew to have been retaken, and with
due formality, our hero was introduced. On being asked for some bacon
and sweet potatoes to put with their corn-bread, he replied: "Pooty hard
case, massa; but dis yer darkey'll do de best he can. Can't get nuffin'
on this plantation, but reckon I can buy some 'tatoes down at Massa
Smith's, three miles from yer, and will go down thar after I finish my
task to-morrer. As to meat," he said, "you know, massa, dat in the Souf
de slave takes what de white folks frows away, and I reckon you all
couldn't eat a tainted ham dat ole massa gib me t'other day; but if you
can, God knows dis chile gibs it to you wid all his heart." Having
become, from long fasting, almost entirely indifferent to the sense of
taste, our friends gave Old Richard to understand that the ham would be

The important question of rations having been thus satisfactorily
arranged, Richard was asked to guide the fugitives to some place of
hiding, where no rebel could find them. Accordingly, they were conducted
to a swamp, and soon discovered a secure place of concealment for the
day. "The whippoorwill and turtle-dove," Captain Glazier writes,
"enlivened the hours with their inspiring notes, and as night began to
approach, the gloomy owl, from the tree-tops, uttered his solemn warning
cry. The pine and cypress, swayed by the breeze, moaned a perpetual
chorus, and under their teaching we learned, during the long, dreary
hours, how much we were indebted to these dismal wilds, that concealed
both friend and foe.

"Here the rebel deserter concealed himself from his pursuers. Here the
loyalist found a hiding-place from the rebel conscripting officer. Here
the trembling negro had his first taste of freedom. Here the escaped
Union prisoner was enabled to baffle blood-hounds and human-hounds, and
make his way to the Federal lines."

The day wore away at length, and as darkness was approaching, Old
Richard, true to his promise, was on hand with the supplies. He gave the
fugitives all he had been able to purchase with his small means, and
they, after asking God to bless him for his kindness, departed. Our
friends trudged away, rejoicing, notwithstanding their fatigue, and the
bodily weakness of Glazier. For the latter had by this time been reduced
in weight to not more than ninety pounds, his usual weight having been
about one hundred and forty-five. He was still, however, filled with
indomitable "pluck," and a determination to conquer the situation, with
all its dread horrors, and return to his colors. Wright, on the other
hand, had a splendid physique, and cared little for hardships that would
have intimidated, or perhaps killed, an ordinary man. On several
occasions he picked Glazier up and generously bore him upon his broad
shoulders over the worst parts of the swamp, the latter being too weak
to make his way alone without falling into the slough-holes.

They were startled, in the course of this night, on seeing two men, who,
by their conversation, which was overheard, proved to be rebel deserters
from Wheeler's command. Our friends deemed it the wisest plan to secrete
themselves behind a log until the men had passed.

At break of day they again concealed themselves, and rested between the
roots of an ancient cypress. Their ears were now greeted with the
distant boom of heavy cannon, which came from the direction of Savannah.
This helped in directing their course for the following night, and also
announced to them in plain language that they were not very far from the
friends they longed to meet.

Refreshed and hopeful they started as the shades of evening fell,
determined, if possible, to accomplish a good march before daylight.

They had not, however, proceeded far, when a large plantation became
visible, the white mansion gleaming through the trees. Wright
recognizing the place, suggested that Glazier might procure a good
supper, and something for the haversack, if he would boldly call and
personate a rebel officer, trusting to his face and ready wit to carry
him through. He had heard from some negroes that the only occupant was a
Mrs. Keyton and some young children, the wife and family of the planter,
who was an officer in the rebel army; and further that there were no
hounds about the place.

Glazier, with characteristic promptness, acquiesced; and the following
is a description of the interview, extracted from the diary, which amid
all his wanderings and trials he never failed to keep regularly written

"After hearing Wright's description, and having agreed upon signals of
danger, should any occur, I started on my foraging expedition, with a
good degree of assurance.

"Stepping up to the door of the mansion, I rapped, and the lady soon
made her appearance. She seemed both refined and intelligent. I asked,
'Can you give this rebel a supper?' She replied, 'You shall have the
best the house affords,' and invited me to step in and take a seat by
the fire. I did so, saying, as I took my seat, 'Madam, I am shocked at
the dastardly conduct of General Sherman in his march through Georgia.
It has been characterized by nothing but what should excite revenge, and
move to action, every man possessing a true Southern spirit. Our aged
citizens, who have banded together for mutual protection, have been
treated as bushwackers--have been driven from their homes, and their
property confiscated. Our hounds, always true to the interests of the
South, have been shot down by the road-side for no other reason than
that they were used in tracking escaped prisoners--'

"Interrupting me here, the lady remarked, much to my surprise, that she
could not see that the Yankees were much worse than the Confederates,
after all. She added: "'When the Yankee army passed through this State,
they took from the rich the supplies necessary for their sustenance; and
when our cavalry followed they took nearly all that was left, seeming to
care but little for our wants, and often depriving defenceless women
and children of their last morsel of bread.'

"'I regret, madam, that the conduct of our troops has been such as to
give you reason for complaint.'

"'I, too, regret that our men have not proved themselves worthy of a
cause which they appear so willing to defend.'

"'Remember,' I continued, 'that our commissary department has been
completely wrecked, and that we are entirely dependent upon the people
for the subsistence of a large army.'

"By the sad expression of her countenance, which accompanied and
followed this remark, I saw clearly that she felt we had reached a
crisis in the war, when Providence was turning the tables, and she
accordingly interrogated:

"'And what do you think of present prospects?'

"I quickly responded, 'Our future looks dark--our cause appears almost
hopeless, but the sacrifices of our gallant dead remain unavenged.
Therefore, we must fight while there is a man left, and die in the last

"'If there be no longer any hope of success, sir, I should say that it
would be better to lay down our arms at once, and go back under the old

"'Madam, we must fight, we _must fight_!'

"'But it is wickedness and worse than madness to continue this awful
massacre of human beings, without some prospect of ultimate success.'

"'Very true; but we have lost all in this struggle, and must sell our
lives as dearly as possible.'

"By this time the good lady seemed to have waxed enthusiastic, and
warm as the fire over which the servant was preparing my supper, and she

"'My husband is a captain in the Twenty-fifth Georgia Infantry. He is
the father of these children, and is very dear to both them and me. Long
have I prayed that he might be spared to return to his family, but fear
that we shall never be permitted to see him again. When he entered the
army, I admired his patriotism, and was glad to see him go in defence of
what I supposed to be the true interests of the southern people; but _we
have been deceived from the beginning by our military and political
leaders_. It is time to open our eyes, and see what obstinacy has
brought us. We are conquered. Let us return to the rule of the Federal
government, ere we are ruined.'

"Madam, your sympathies appear to be largely with the Yankees.'

"'It is not strange, sir; I was born and educated in New England;--and
your speech would indicate that you too are not a native of the South.'

"'You are right; I am a New Yorker by birth, but have been for a
considerable time in South Carolina.'

"After partaking of the frugal meal set before me, which consisted of
corn-bread and sweet potatoes, I thanked the lady for her kindness, and
told her that I regretted very deeply that I was not in a situation to
remunerate her for so much trouble. Noticing my blue pants as I arose
from the table, she remarked:

"'It is impossible for me to know our men from the Yankees by the
uniform; but a few days since, two soldiers asked me to get them some
supper, claiming to be scouts to General Wheeler; they told many very
plausible stories, and the next day, to my astonishment, I was charged
with harboring Yankee spies.'

"'I do not wonder that you find it difficult to distinguish the Yankee
from the Confederate soldier, for in these trying times a poor rebel is
compelled to wear anything he can get. The dead are always stripped, and
at this season of the year, we find the Federal uniform far more
comfortable than our own.'

"'It must be an awful extremity that could tempt men to strip the dying
and the dead!'

"'We have become so much accustomed to such practices, that we are
unmoved by scenes which might appall and sicken those who have never
served in our ranks.'

"'I sincerely hope that these murderous practices will soon be at an

"Feeling that I had been absent from my comrade long enough, and that it
was time to make my departure, I arose, saying,

"'I must go, madam; may I know to whom I am so much indebted for my
supper and kind entertainment this evening?'

"'Mrs. James Keyton. And what may I call your name?'

"'Willard Glazier, Fifty-third Alabama Mounted Infantry.'

"'Should you chance to meet the Twenty-fifth Georgia, please inquire for
Captain Keyton, and say to him that his wife and children are well, and
send their love.'

"'He shall certainly have your message if it is my good fortune to meet
him. Good-night.'"

Leaving Mrs. Keyton with her fears for the rebel cause in general, and
her husband in particular, Glazier hurried out to find his friend Wright
pacing up and down the road in a bad humor at having been kept so long
waiting; but setting their faces in the direction of Springfield, they
at once started on their march. They soon found themselves approaching
the rebel forces in General Sherman's rear, and determined at all risks
to obtain information of the two armies. They were at General Iverson's
headquarters, and at one time were within fifteen paces of the house he

Cautiously concealing themselves behind trees they reached a spot within
earshot of the provost-guard, and overheard their conversation. The
prospects of the war were freely discussed, and the fall of Savannah.
The conclusion forced on the minds of our friends was that the
Confederate cause was losing ground, and its armies would soon be
compelled to surrender to the Union force.

Glazier and his comrade left the spot inspired with renewed courage.

Six miles on their road to Springfield found daylight approaching, and
the fugitives hurriedly secreted themselves among some tall swamp grass.
They were suddenly aroused by the baying of a blood-hound, and
immediately sprang to their feet.

"We are followed!" exclaimed Wright.

"What do you propose to do?" quickly asked Glazier.

"I am undecided," was the unsatisfactory reply.

"It is my opinion," said Glazier, promptly, "that if we are not off at
once we shall be prisoners."

"Well, off it is!" spoke Wright; and both struck off in a southeasterly
direction in double quick time. Fences and ditches were leaped, and
streams forded, the hounds approaching so nearly that their baying could
be distinctly heard by the fugitives; but fortunately, or
providentially, they came to a large creek, and jumping in, waded along
its course for a distance of some sixty rods, then emerging, pursued
their journey in the direction they had intended. About one o'clock they
concluded they had out-generaled the bushwhackers and their hounds.
Elated by success they became less cautious and did not halt. About two
o'clock Glazier was startled by seeing his companion drop suddenly and
silently behind a tree. Glazier followed, watching the movements of
Wright, and presently saw that they were within a few rods of a
Confederate picket. Before they had time to move a cavalry patrol came
up to the post with instructions, and, as soon as he had passed, our
friends crawled upon their hands and knees into the friendly swamp, and
thus screened themselves from their enemy.

The _hounds_, however, were a source of greater danger to the fugitives
than the rebel pickets; the training and scent of the former having been
so perfected and developed by long and cruel use in the recapture of
fugitive slaves, that, to evade them, was almost an impossibility. Hence
the sense of caution was strained to the utmost both by night and day on
the part of our friends.

The use of blood-hounds in warfare is considered _barbarous_ in every
country pretending to civilization, even if they are employed against a
foreign foe. How much more so, in a war waged between fellow-citizens of
one blood, one history, one language, and in numerous instances, bearing
domestic or family relations to each other; and this, in support of a
cause, the righteousness of which was doubted by many who found
themselves unwillingly compelled to give in their adherence at the
dictation of a few ambitious men. For this sin a righteous God has
judged them! A cause thus supported deserved defeat in the estimation of
just men of every nation, apart from all political considerations.

Captain Glazier and his friend congratulated themselves on having so far
eluded, by every expedient known to them, the sanguinary fangs of these
barbarous instruments of warfare; and after nightfall continued their
route, passing the picket in the darkness.

Soon after they encountered a colored friend, known among his people as
"Uncle Philip." This good darkey informed them that the Federal forces
had possession of Cherokee Hill, on the Savannah River Road, only eight
miles distant--news which afforded them inexpressible joy! Uncle Philip
was asked if he would guide them to the lines; and replied: "I'ze neber
ben down dar, massa, sense Massa Sherman's company went to Savannah; but
I reckon you-uns can git Massa Jones, a free cullered man, to take you
ober. He's a mighty bright pusson, and understands de swamps jest like a

On reaching Jones' hut his wife informed them that her husband was out
scouting, but was expected back about eleven o'clock. She urged our
friends to enter and await his return, as he was always glad to do all
in his power for the Yankees. Fearing the rebel scouts might discover
them, they, at first, hesitated, but consented on Mrs. Jones promising
to be on the alert. She accordingly volunteered her two boys, one of
eight years and the other six, for out-post duty, charging them strictly
to notify her immediately if they saw any one approaching, so that she
might conceal the fugitives. Auntie then promptly placed before them a
bountiful supply of hoe-cake and parched corn, the best her humble cot
afforded, and most welcome to the famished men.

Jones returned at the appointed hour, but informed his guests that,
while very willing to guide them, he was not sufficiently acquainted
with the safest route to do so; and referred them to a friend of his,
who would accompany them, and whom he could strongly recommend as a
competent and safe guide. On visiting this man he also pleaded ignorance
of any _safe_ route; but mentioned the name of still another "friend of
the Yankees," who, he said, had come up from the Union lines that
morning and would willingly return with them. This friendly negro also
was found. He was a genuine negro, as black as ebony and very devout in
his mode of speech. His name was "March Dasher." "I'll do it, massa, if
God be my helper!" he answered to their eager inquiry.

Glazier and his comrade were impatient to start at once, but upon this
point Dasher was inexorable. "Dis chile knows whar de pickets is in de
day-time," he emphatically declared, "but knows nuffin 'bout 'em arter
dark;" and absolutely declined to take the risk of falling within the
Confederate lines--an act of prudence and firmness for which he was to
be much commended.

A fear of treachery was aroused when Dasher tried to induce them to
remain in his hut till morning, but this was immediately and entirely
removed when he and his household at a signal, fell on their knees, and
joined in simple but fervent prayer to the Almighty, as a friend of the
friendless--beseeching Him to protect and prosper them in their
efforts to flee from their enemies; and much more of a nature to disarm
any suspicion of their fidelity and good-will to the Union cause.

Our friends, however, declined to remain in the hut, fearing a surprise
from the outpost; and at the conclusion of the prayer, betook themselves
to a pine thicket with the joint resolution of giving their dark friend
no peace until he started with them to the Federal lines.

About one o'clock in the morning, Wright, impatient of delay, proceeded
to the hut, and arousing Dasher, told him that day had just begun to
break. He came to the door, and pointing to the stars in the unclouded
sky, remarked, with a good-tempered smile, "I reck'n it's good many
hours yet till break ob day, massa. Yer can't fool March on de time; his
clock neber breaks down. It's jest right ebery time." Wright returned to
his lair in the thicket, remarking irritably, as he threw himself down,
"Glazier, you might as well undertake to move a mountain, as to get the
start of that colored individual!"

At the first peep of dawn, punctual to his promise, Dasher thrust his
black, good-humored face into the thicket, and announced:

"Now I'ze ready, gemmen, to take you right plum into Mr. Sherman's
company by 'sun-up;'" and as Sol began to gild the tree-tops and the
distant eastern hills, the trio came within sight of the Federal camp,
and witnessed the "Stars and Stripes," floating triumphantly in the

What pen can describe their emotions, when--after more than fourteen
long months' suffering from imprisonment, starvation, nakedness, bodily
and mental prostration, and every inhumanity short of being murdered,
like many of their imprisoned comrades, in cold blood--they again hailed
_friends_ and found _freedom_ at last within their grasp! Words would
fail to tell their joy. Let us leave it to the reader to imagine.

On first approaching the camp they were supposed, by their motley
attire, to be deserters from the enemy; and, as true soldiers and
deserters never fraternize, no signal of welcome was offered by the
"boys in blue." The suspicions of the latter, however, were allayed on
seeing Glazier and his companion wave their caps: then they were
beckoned to come forward. And when it was discovered that they were
_escaped prisoners_, an enthusiastic grip was given to each by every
soldier present, accompanied by cordial congratulations on their
successful escape from the barbarous enemy who had had them in custody.

"Each man," writes Glazier, "took us by the hand, congratulating us on
our eventful and successful escape, while we cheered the boys for the
glorious work they had accomplished for the Union. Haversacks were
opened and placed at our disposal. There was a great demand for
hard-tack and coffee; but the beauty of it all was, Major Turner was not
there, to say what he often repeated, 'Reduce their rations; I'll teach
the d----d scoundrels not to attempt to escape!'

"I cannot forget," he adds, "the sea of emotion that well-nigh
overwhelmed me, as soon as I could realize the fact that I was no longer
a prisoner, and especially when I beheld the starry banner floating
triumphantly over the invincibles who had followed their great General
down to the sea."

Our hero and his friend became objects of much curiosity, while their
eventful escape was the subject of general conversation and comment by
the brave boys who pressed around them, and who proved to be a
detachment of the One Hundred and First Illinois Volunteers, Twentieth
Army Corps. Their most intimate friends would have failed to recognize
them. Glazier was clad in an old gray jacket and blue pants, with a
venerable and dilapidated hat which had seen a prodigious amount of
service of a nondescript kind; while a tattered gray blanket that had
done duty for many a month as a bed by day and a cloak by night, and was
now in the last stage of dissolution from age and general infirmity,
completed his unmilitary and unpretentious toilet. Having at first no
one to identify them, Glazier and his companion were as strangers among
friends, and necessarily without official recognition. At length,
however, after much searching, they found Lieutenant Wright's old
company, and thus the refugees became officially identified and
recognized as Federal officers.

In company with Lieutenant E. H. Fales, who had been his fellow-prisoner
at Charleston, and effected his escape, Glazier proceeded on horseback
to the headquarters of General Kilpatrick. The General, cordially
welcoming and congratulating Glazier on his happy escape, at once
furnished him with the documents necessary to secure his transportation
to the North. His term of service having expired, he was anxious to
revisit his family, who thought him dead, and bidding an affectionate
adieu to his friend Wright, he and Lieutenant Fales embarked on a
steamship on December twenty-ninth for home. After experiencing the
effects of a severe storm at sea, the vessel arrived at the wharf of
the metropolitan city, and our hero adds: "I awoke to the glorious
realization that I was again breathing the air of my native State. There
was exhilaration and rapture in the thought, which I could not repress,
and that moment is fixed as a golden era in my memory. I hope never to
become so hardened that that patriotic and Christian exultation will be
an unpleasant recollection."

There have probably been few hearts that beat higher with martial ardor,
than that of Willard Glazier; but at that moment the thought of
"Battle's red carnival" was merged in the gentler recollection of
kindred and friends, rest and home.



  Glazier's determination to re-enter the army.--Letter to Colonel
    Harhaus.--Testimonial from Colonel Clarence Buel.--Letter from
    Hon. Martin I. Townsend to governor of New York.--Letter from
    General Davies.--Letter from General Kilpatrick.--Application for
    new commission successful.--Home.--The mother fails to recognize
    her son.--Supposed to be dead.--Recognized by his sister
    Marjorie.--Filial and fraternal love,--Reports himself to his
    commanding officer for duty.--Close of the war and of Glazier's
    military career.--Seeks a new object in life.--An idea occurs to
    him.--Becomes an author, and finds a publisher.

Home, with its rest, its peaceful enjoyments and endearments, was no
abiding place for our young soldier while his bleeding country still
battled for the right, and called upon her sons for self-denying service
in her cause. He had registered a vow to remain in the army until
relieved by death, or the termination of the war. His heart and soul
were in the Union cause, and finding that at the expiration of his term
of service he had been mustered out, he had determined before proceeding
to his home to apply for another commission, and, if possible, resume
his place at the front.

The following letter, which we think stamps his earnest loyalty to the
cause he had espoused, and for which he had already suffered so much,
was addressed to his friend and patron:

                                                Astor House, New York,
                                               _January 10th, 1865_.

     Colonel Otto Harhaus,
        Late of the Harris Light Cavalry:

     Dear Colonel: Having reached our lines, an escaped prisoner, on the
     twenty-third of last month, I at once took steps to ascertain my
     position in the old regiment, and regret to say, was informed at
     the war department that as my term of service had expired during my
     imprisonment; and, as I had not remustered previous to capture, I
     was now regarded supernumerary. I wish to remain in the service
     until the close of the war, and so expressed myself before I fell
     into the hands of the enemy. Fourteen months in rebel prisons has
     not increased my respect for "Southern chivalry"--in short I have
     some old scores to settle.

     I write, Colonel, to ascertain if you will be kind enough to advise
     me what steps I had better take to secure a new commission in the
     Cavalry Corps, and to ask if you will favor me with a letter of
     recommendation to Governor Fenton. It was suggested to me at
     Washington that I should place my case before him, and, if I
     conclude to do so, a note from you will be of great value.

     I learn through Captain Downing that I was commissioned a first
     lieutenant upon your recommendation soon after my capture. If so, I
     avail myself of this opportunity to acknowledge my deep sense of
     the favor, and to thank you very cordially for remembering me at a
     time when I was entirely dependent upon your impartial decisions
     for advancement in your command.

     I made my escape from the rebel prison at Columbia, South Carolina,
     November twenty-sixth, 1864, was recaptured December fifteenth by a
     Confederate outpost near Springfield, Georgia; escaped a second
     time the following day and was retaken by a detachment of Texan
     cavalry under General Wheeler; was tried as a spy at Springfield;
     escaped a third time from Sylvania on the nineteenth of December,
     and reached the Federal lines near Savannah, four days later, and
     twenty-eight days after my escape from Columbia. I was at General
     Kilpatrick's headquarters on the Ogeechee, December twenty-sixth.
     The general was in the most exuberant spirits, and entertained me
     with stories of the Great March from Atlanta to the sea. He desired
     to be remembered to all the officers and men of his old cavalry
     division in Virginia.

     I expect to be mustered out of service to-day, and if so, shall
     start this evening for my home in Northern New York, which I have
     not visited since entering the army three years ago.

     Soliciting a response at your earliest convenience,

                   I have the honor to remain, Colonel,

                           Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
                                                      Willard Glazier.

Impatient of delay in the gratification of his ardent and patriotic
desire to rejoin the army, Glazier also addressed an earnest letter to
Hon. M. I. Townsend, of his native State, accompanying it with the
following glowing testimonial from his late superior officer and
companion in arms, Colonel Clarence Buel:

                                            Saratoga Springs, New York,
                                              _February 14th, 1865._

     Hon. Martin I. Townsend:

     Dear Sir: It is with great pleasure that I introduce to your
     acquaintance my friend Lieutenant Willard Glazier. He entered the
     service as a private in my company in the "Harris Light Cavalry,"
     and was promoted for services in the field to his present rank. I
     considered him one of the very best and most promising young
     officers whom I knew, and his career has only strengthened my
     opinion of his merits. After a period of long and gallant service
     in the field he had the misfortune to be taken prisoner in a
     desperate cavalry fight, and has but recently returned home after
     escaping from a terrible confinement of more than a year in the
     prison pens at Richmond, Danville, Macon, Savannah, Charleston, and
     Columbia. I wish you would take time to hear the modest recital
     which he makes of his experience in Southern prisons, and of his
     escape; and I feel sure you will agree with me, that he is worthy
     of any interest you may take in him.

     He is desirous of re-entering the service as soon as he can procure
     a commission in any way equal to his deserts; and I told him that I
     knew of no one who could give him more valuable aid than yourself
     in his patriotic purpose. I do most cordially commend him to your
     consideration, and shall esteem anything you may do for him as a
     great personal favor. With very sincere regards,

                              I am, your obedient friend and servant,
                                                         Clarence Buel.

Hon. Martin I. Townsend, on receipt of Colonel Buel's flattering
introduction, at once interested himself in Glazier's behalf; and after
fully investigating his military record handed him the following to the
Governor of New York State:

                                                       Troy, New York,
                                                _February 15th, 1865._

     His Excellency R. E. Fenton, Governor of New York:

     Dear Sir: Willard Glazier, late of the "Harris Light Cavalry," who
     served with honor as a lieutenant in that regiment, is a most
     excellent young patriot, and has many well-wishers in our city. He
     desires to enter the service again. I take the liberty to solicit
     for him a commission. No appointment would be more popular here,
     and I undertake to say, without hesitation, that I know of no more
     deserving young officer. His heart was always warm in the service,
     and he now has fifteen months of most barbarous cruelty, practised
     on him while a prisoner, to avenge.

                                            Very respectfully yours,
                                                   Martin I. Townsend.

His former commanders, Generals H. E. Davies and Judson Kilpatrick, also
bore their willing testimony to the qualifications and merits of our
young subaltern in the following handsome manner:

                       Headquarters, First Brigade, Cavalry Division,
                           Near Culpepper, Va.,

                                               _February 16th, 1865._

     To His Excellency Hon. R. E. Fenton:

     Lieutenant Willard Glazier, formerly of the Second New York
     Cavalry, served in the regiment under my immediate command, for
     more than two years, until his capture by the enemy.

     He joined the regiment as an enlisted man, and served in that
     capacity with courage and ability, and for good conduct was
     recommended for and received a commission as second lieutenant. As
     an officer he did his duty well, and on several occasions behaved
     with great gallantry, and with good judgment. Owing to a long
     imprisonment, I learn he has been rendered supernumerary in his
     regiment, and mustered out of service. I can recommend him highly
     as an officer, and as well worthy to receive a commission.

                                              Very respectfully,
                                                 H. E. Davies, Jr.,
                                   Brigadier-General U. S. Volunteers.

                                Headquarters Cavalry Command, M. D. M.,
                         Near Savannah, Georgia, _December 27th, 1864_.

     Lieutenant Willard Glazier, Harris Light Cavalry:

     Lieutenant: I take great pleasure in expressing to you my high
     appreciation of your many soldierly qualities. I well remember the
     fact that you were once a private in the old regiment I had the
     honor to command; and that by attention to duty and good conduct
     _alone_, you received promotion. You have my best wishes for your
     future advancement, and may command my influence at all times.

                                  Very respectfully and truly yours,
                                                    Judson Kilpatrick,
                                   Brigadier-General, U. S. Volunteers.

His application was crowned with success, and upon the twenty-fifth of
February, 1865, he received his commission as First Lieutenant in the
Twenty-sixth Regiment, New York Cavalry.

Not until this important matter was satisfactorily arranged would our
young lieutenant turn his face towards home. He had been absent about
three years, and a report had reached his family that he had died in
prison at Columbia.

With his commission in his pocket, he now allowed thoughts of home to
occupy his mind, and proceeded thither without the loss of a moment. On
reaching the homestead which had been the scene of his birth, and of the
adventures of his boyhood, he knocked and entered, and his mother met
him at the threshold. Three years between the ages of sixteen and
nineteen, especially after vicissitudes and sufferings such as he had
endured, effect changes in the features and height and general
appearance, much more pronounced than a similar interval would produce
at a later or an earlier period of life. The mother did not recognize
her son; and seeing this, he did not announce himself, but inquired if
any news had recently been received of her son Willard, who, he said,
was in the same regiment as himself. She answered that her son was
_dead_--she had seen his name in the death-record of the prison of
Columbia, and asked earnestly concerning him. By this time his sister
Marjorie, with three years added to her stature, but still in her teens,
entered the room, and, looking fixedly at the stranger's solemn
countenance, exclaimed, with a thrilling outcry: "Why, that's Will!" The
spell was broken, and mother and son, sister and brother, amid smiles
and sobs, embraced, and the young soldier, "who was dead and is alive,"
was welcomed to the fond hearts of those who had grieved over his loss.

Filial and fraternal love was a trait in Glazier's character which
claims a few words. A dutiful son and an affectionate brother, he had
never neglected an opportunity of assisting and furthering the interests
of his family. Before entering the army he had contributed of his scant
earnings as a teacher towards the education of his three sisters, and
during his service in the war had, from time to time, as he received his
pay, made remittances home for the same unselfish purpose. On being
mustered out of the army, the government had paid him the sum of $500,
and this sum he now generously handed over to his parents to be also
expended in perfecting the education of his sisters.

Lieutenant Glazier now hastened to report himself to the commanding
officer of his regiment, and displayed all his wonted energy and
devotion to the cause of the Union. He served faithfully and honorably
until the mighty hosts of the Federal army melted back into quiet
citizenship, with nothing to distinguish them from other citizens but
their scars and the proud consciousness of having SERVED AND SAVED

       *       *       *       *       *

This brief history of the military career of a remarkable man would not
be complete without some account of his life subsequent to the
dissolution of the great army of volunteers. Willard Glazier's conduct
as a soldier formed an earnest of his future good citizenship--his
devotion to duty at the front, a foreshadow of his enterprise and
success in the business of life.

Having been honorably mustered out, he lost no time in looking about for
an occupation. Joining the volunteer army when a mere youth, his
opportunities of learning a profession had been very limited, and he
consequently now found himself without any permanent means of support.
His education had been necessarily interrupted by the breaking out of
the war, and his chief anxiety, now that the struggle was over, was to
enter college and complete his studies.

This desire was very intense in our young citizen-soldier, and absorbed
all his thoughts; but where to find the means for its accomplishment he
was at a loss to discover. In ponderings upon this subject from day to
day, an idea suddenly occurred to him, which formed an epoch in his
life, and the development of which has proved it to have been the basis
of a successful and useful career. The _idea_ that has borne fruit was
this: During the period of his service in the war he had kept a diary.
Herein he had recorded his experiences from day to day, adding such
brief comments as the events called for, and time and opportunity
permitted. This diary he always kept upon his person, and while on a
long and hurried march, or in a battle with the enemy, his _vade mecum_
would be, of necessity, occasionally neglected, no sooner did the
opportunity offer than his mind wandered back over the few days'
interval since the previous entry, and each event of interest was duly
chronicled. Again during the period of his confinement in Southern
prisons, sick, and subjected to most inhuman treatment and privation,
and while escaping from his brutal captors, concealed in the swamps
during the day, tired, hungry, and cold, his diary was never forgotten,
albeit, the entries were frequently made under the greatest
difficulties, such as to most men would have proved insurmountable.

This journal was now in his possession. He had stirred the souls of
relatives and friends by reading from it accounts of bloody scenes
through which he had passed; of cruelties practised upon him and his
brother-patriots in Southern bastiles; of his various attempts to
escape, and pursuit by blood-hounds and their barbarous masters. The
story of his war experiences entranced hundreds of eager listeners
around his home, and the idea that now occurred to him, while anxiously
pondering the ways and means of paying his college fees, was, that his
story might possibly, by the aid of his diary, be arranged in the form
of a book, and if he were fortunate enough to find a sale for it, the
profits would probably furnish the very thing he stood so much in need

Prompt in everything, the thought no sooner occurred to the young
candidate for college honors than he proceeded to reduce it to action.
He forthwith commenced arranging the facts and dates from the diary;
constructed sentences in plain Saxon English; the work grew upon him;
he "fought his battles o'er again;" was again captured, imprisoned and
escaped; the work continued to grow, and at the end of six weeks' hard
application, always keeping his _object_ in view, Willard Glazier, the
young cavalryman, found himself an author--_i. e._, in manuscript.

Not a little surprised and gratified to discover that he possessed the
gift of putting his thoughts in a readable form, he now felt hopeful
that the day was not distant when the desire of his soul to enter
college would be realized.



  Glazier in search of a publisher for "Capture, Prison-Pen and
    Escape."--Spends his last dollar.--Lieutenant Richardson a friend
    in need.--Joel Munsell, of Albany, consents to publish.--The
    author solicits subscriptions for his work before
    publication.--Succeeds.--Captain Hampton.--R. H.
    Ferguson.--Captain F. C. Lord.--Publication and sale of first
    edition.--Great success.--Pays his publisher in full.--Still
    greater successes.--Finally attains an enormous sale.--Style of
    the work.--Extracts.--Opinions of the press.

Still very young, and knowing nothing of the trade of the Publisher,
Glazier found his way to the Empire City, and, manuscript in hand,
presented himself before some of her leading publishers--among them, the
Harpers, Appletons, Carleton, Sheldon and others.

To these gentlemen he showed his manuscript, and received courteous
recognition from each; but the terms they offered were not of a
character to tempt him. They would publish his book and pay him a small
royalty on their sales. His faith in his manuscript led him to expect
more substantial results. The subject of the work was one of absorbing
interest at the time, and if he had handled it properly, he knew the
book must meet with a commensurate sale. He therefore determined, if
possible, to find a publisher willing to make it to his order, and leave
him to manipulate the sale himself. He was already in possession of
many unsolicited orders for it, and although knowing nothing of the
subscription-book business, determined that, when printed, his book
should be brought out by subscription.

Meanwhile, he was, unfortunately, like many incipient authors, without
capital, and could not therefore remain longer in New York for lack of
means, having literally nothing left wherewith to defray even his board
or procure a lodging. He was, consequently, compelled to leave if he
could obtain the means of doing so. He had arrived in New York with
sanguine expectations of readily meeting with a publisher, but
discovered, from bitter experience, as many others have done, that
authors and publishers not unfrequently view their interests from
divergent points. Courteous but cool, they offered the unknown author
little encouragement, who, but for this, would have made the metropolis
the starting-point in his successful literary career.

At this juncture he called on Lieutenant Arthur Richardson, an old
comrade of the "Harris Light," who had also been his fellow-prisoner,
and was then residing in New York. To him he confided his difficulty in
finding a publisher for his book, and his extremely straitened
circumstances, at the same time stating his strong wish to return, if
possible, to Albany, where he was known. Without ceremony and without
conditions Richardson generously handed him twenty dollars, and, with
this godsend in hand, Glazier at once returned to Albany.

Arrived in the capital of his native State, he lost no time in calling
on the bookmen of that city, and among them, fortunately, on Mr. Joel
Munsell, of 82 State street. This gentleman, well known for his
learning and probity throughout the State, and far beyond its limits,
combined the profession of an author with the more lucrative one of
publisher and bookseller, and was pre-eminently in good standing as a
worthy citizen and man of business.

Glazier introduced himself, and once more produced his fateful
manuscript for inspection. Mr. Munsell glanced at it through his
glasses, and candidly admitted the subject to be one of great interest,
adding that he also thought the manuscript was carefully written, and
spoke in general complimentary terms of the author and his production.

Glazier, elated with this praise, at once asked to have the work
stereotyped and made into a book of some four hundred pages, with ten
illustrations. Mr. Munsell would be only too ready to fill the order,
but politely suggested, as a preliminary condition, an advance of two
hundred dollars! Our author modestly confessed, without hesitation, that
he was not worth two hundred cents; had no means of obtaining such a
sum, and could therefore advance nothing. The worthy old gentleman was
startled, and answered that such was the custom of the trade. He then
inquired if Glazier had any friends who would endorse a note for the
amount at thirty days. The reply was that he had none; that he would
exert himself to obtain a small sum from army friends, and if he
succeeded, would hand it over to him; that his only capital at present
was his conduct and character as a soldier, for testimony to which he
would refer to his late commanding officer, "and," he added, "faith in
the success of my book." He further offered to solicit subscriptions for
the book himself before publication, and report the result to the

[Illustration: Interview With Joel Munsell.]

Mr. Munsell, pleased with his appearance and ingenuousness, hinted at
the purchase of the manuscript, but the proposal being respectfully
declined, inquired, if the writer undertook to sell the book himself,
would he "stick to it." "Yes!" was the emphatic answer, "until
everything is fully paid for."

The reply of Munsell was equally prompt and decisive: "I have never in
all the years I have been in business published a work under such
circumstances, _but I will get that book out for you_." Glazier thanked
the worthy man, and expressed a hope that he would never have occasion
to regret his generous deed; he would place the manuscript in his hands

He then set out to solicit subscriptions for his work, and without
prospectus, circular, or any of the usual paraphernalia of a
solicitor--with nothing but his own unsupported representations of the
quality of his projected book, succeeded in obtaining a very
considerable number of orders. These he hastened to hand over to Joel
Munsell, who was now confirmed in his good opinion of the writer, and
the promising character of the venture.

Thus our young soldier-author was fortunate enough to find a publisher
and a friend in need. A contract was drawn up, and feeling that his
prospects were now somewhat assured, he ventured to write to his
comrade, and late fellow-prisoner, Captain Hampton, of Rochester, New
York, for the loan of fifty dollars. This sum was promptly sent him, and
he at once handed it over to his publisher. Mr. R. H. Ferguson, late of
the "Harris Light," also generously came forward to the assistance of
his former comrade and tent-mate, and advanced him one hundred dollars
to help on the work.

It may be stated here, that the friendship of Ferguson and Glazier dated
from before the war, while the latter, a mere youth, was teaching school
near Troy, in Rensselaer County, New York: that together, on the summons
to arms, they enlisted in the Harris Light Cavalry; together went to the
seat of war; that both fell into the hands of the rebels and had
experience of Southern prisons; and that both effected their escape
after the endurance of much suffering. Finally, their friendship and
common career resulted in a business connection which was attended with
considerable success, Mr. Ferguson having become the publisher of some
of Captain Glazier's subsequent writings. Captain Frederick C. Lord, of
Naugatuck, Connecticut, also contributed to Glazier's need, and enabled
him by the opportune loan of twenty-five dollars to defray his board
bill while waiting anxiously upon Munsell in the reading of proofs, and
soliciting subscriptions in advance.

To return to the first work of our young author, now in the hands of
Joel Munsell, of Albany, which was entitled "The Capture, Prison-Pen and
Escape;" the first edition consisted of five hundred copies, which
Glazier by his energy disposed of in a few days, handing over the
proceeds to the publisher. At the end of six months he had called for
several editions of his book, and sold them all through the
instrumentality of solicitors selected by himself, some of them maimed
soldiers of the war, paid Mr. Munsell in full, and had himself three
thousand dollars in hand. Success is the mother of success.

Having prospered thus far beyond his expectations, he was anxious to add
to his store. Visions of large sales over other territory than his
native State of New York presented themselves to his eager mind; the
book was purchased by the public as soon as it was published; reviewers
spoke in enthusiastic praise of its merits. It was not a pretentious
work--the author was simply a young man and a patriot. But passages of
great beauty and of painful interest pervaded it, alternated with vivid
descriptions of battles in which the writer had himself shared. A
veteran author need not have been ashamed of many of its glowing pages.
Lofty patriotism, heroic fortitude, and moral purity, characterized it

The account given of the sufferings of our soldiers while in the
prison-pens of the South, and of his own and his comrades' while
effecting their escape to the Federal lines, are so vividly portrayed,
that our feelings are intensely enlisted in their behalf, and our minds
wander to their dreary abodes--in thought sharing their sufferings and
their sorrows.

Encouraged by his success in this new vocation our young author
resolved, for the present at least, to postpone going to college, and
devote himself to the sale of his book, by the simple agency before
mentioned. This resolution cannot be considered surprising when we
reflect upon the great amount of prosperity he had met with, and the
prospect before him of attaining still greater advantage from a business
upon which he had, by the merest accident, ventured. The college scheme
was at length finally abandoned as the business continued to increase.
"The Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape" ultimately reached the enormous
sale of over four hundred thousand copies; larger by many thousands than
that most extensively circulated and deservedly popular book, "Uncle
Tom's Cabin," had ever attained to, inclusive of its sale in Europe.

The first book written and published by Willard Glazier is of a
character to surprise us, when we consider the antecedents of the writer
up to the date of its publication, December, 1865. Enlisting in the
ranks of a cavalry regiment at the age of eighteen, during the exciting
period of the civil war; a participant in many of its sanguinary
battles; captured by the enemy and imprisoned under circumstances of the
greatest trial and discouragement, his position and surroundings were
not a very promising school for the training of an author. The book he
produced is, in our judgment, not unworthy of comparison with the
immortal work of Defoe, with this qualification in our author's favor
that "Robinson Crusoe" is a fiction, while Glazier's is a true story of
real adventure undergone by the writer and his comrades of the Union

His style in narrating his adventures is admirably adapted to the
subject; while the simple, unpretentious manner in which he describes
the terrible scenes he witnessed, and passed through, enlists the
reader's interest in the work, and sympathy for the modest writer
himself. By the publication of this book, Glazier stamped his name upon
his country's roll of honor, and at the same time laid the foundation of
his fortune.

As a specimen of his easy flowing style we give part of the opening
chapter of "Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape:"

"The first battle of Bull Run was fought July twenty-first, 1861, and
the shock of arms was felt throughout the land, carrying triumph to the
South, and to the North dismay. Our proud and confident advance into
'Dixie' was not only checked, but turned into a disastrous rout. The
patriotic but unwarlike enthusiasm of the country, which had hoped to
crush the rebellion with seventy-five thousand men, was temporarily
stifled. But the chilling was only like that of the first stealthy drops
of the thunder-gust upon a raging fire, which breaks out anew and with
increased vigor when the tempest fans it with its fury, and now burns in
spite of a deluge of rain. The chill had passed and the fever was
raging. From the great centres of national life went forth warm currents
of renovating public opinion, which reached the farthest hamlet on our
frontiers. Every true man was grasping the stirring questions of the
day, and was discussing them with his family at his own fireside, and
the rebellion was just as surely doomed as when Grant received the
surrender of Lee's army. In a deeper and broader sense than before, the
country was rising to meet the emergency, and northern patriotism, now
thoroughly aroused, was sweeping everything before it. Everywhere
resounded the cry, 'To arms!' and thousands upon thousands were
responding to the President's call.

"It was under these circumstances that I enlisted, as a private soldier,
at Troy, New York, on the sixth day of August, in a company raised by
Captain Clarence Buel, for the Second Regiment of New York Cavalry. It
is needless to make elaborate mention of the motives which induced me to
enter the service, or the emotions which then filled my breast; they can
be readily conjectured by every loyal heart."

The Press, throughout the North (and West, as far as its circulation had
reached), spoke very highly of the production and of its author, all
bearing the same testimony to its excellence and truthfulness. The
Albany _Evening Post_ says:

     "'The Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape' is the title of an intensely
     interesting work, giving a complete history of prison-life in the
     South. The book is at once accurate, graphic and admirably written.
     It is full of adventure, and quite as readable as a romance. A
     person who reads this volume will have a better idea of what it
     cost in the way of blood, suffering and courage, to preserve the
     Republic, than he can now possibly entertain."

The Cleveland _Daily Leader_ writes:

     "We have had the pleasure of reading this book. It describes, in
     the most graphic and interesting style, the prison-life of Union
     soldiers in the South, their plans of escape, and their various
     trials and hardships there. The history contained in the book is
     very valuable. The Press, all over the land, speaks very highly of
     it, and we can do naught but add our commendations to the rest."

The New York _Reformer_ exclaims:

     "From the title-page to its close, the volume is full of fresh
     incidents, attracting the reader on, from page to page, with
     unbroken, though at times with melancholy, at others indignant, and
     at others wrathful, interest."

[Illustration: Calvary.--foraging Party Returning To Camp.]



  Another work by Captain Glazier.--"Three Years in the Federal
    Cavalry."--Daring deeds of the Light Dragoons.--Extracts from the
    work.--Night attack on Falmouth Heights.--Kilpatrick's
    stratagem.--Flight of the enemy.--Capture of Falmouth.--Burial of
    Lieutenant Decker.--Incidents at "Brandy Station."--"Harris
    Light" and "Tenth New York."--"Men of Maine, you must save the
    day!"--Position won.--Some Press reviews of the work.

Through earnest and continued application our soldier-author had, in the
meantime, produced another book of equal merit with his first. This he
named, "Three Years in the Federal Cavalry." It is a work of thrilling
interest, and contains much of history relating to the Civil War, and
more especially to the cavalry service. It was the opinion of Captain
Glazier that the Union cavalry had never been properly appreciated, and
for this reason he took up his pen in its defense. He narrates the
daring deeds of our Light Dragoons, their brilliant achievements during
the first three eventful years of the war; and his own personal
experiences are pictured with a vividness of color and an enthusiasm of
manner which carry the reader straight to the field of action.

We quote the following brief but graphic description of the opening of
the great Rebellion, as a specimen of the style of this second product
of his intellect:

"The eleventh of April, 1861, revealed the real intention of the
Southern people in their unprovoked assault upon Fort Sumpter. The
thunder of rebel cannon shook the air not only around Charleston, but
sent its thrilling vibrations to the remotest sections of the country,
and was the precursor of a storm whose wrath no one anticipated. This
shock of arms was like a fire-alarm in our great cities, and the North
arose in its might with a grand unanimity which the South did not
expect. The spirit and principle of rebellion were so uncaused and
unprovoked, that scarcely could any one be found at home or abroad to
justify them.

"President Lincoln thereupon issued a call for seventy-five thousand men
to uphold and vindicate the authority of the government, and to prove,
if possible, that secession was not only a heresy in doctrine, but an
impracticability in the American Republic. The response to this call was
much more general than the most sanguine had any reason to look for. The
enthusiasm of the people was quite unbounded. Individuals encouraged
individuals; families aroused families; communities vied with
communities, and States strove with States. Who could be the first and
do the most, was the noble contention which everywhere prevailed. All
political party lines seemed to be obliterated. Under this renovating
and inspiring spirit the work of raising the nucleus of the grandest
army that ever swept a continent went bravely on. Regiments were rapidly
organized, and as rapidly as possible sent forward to the seat of
government; and so vast was the number that presented themselves for
their country's defence, that the original call was soon more than
filled, and the authorities found themselves unable to accept many
organizations which were eager to press into the fray.

"Meanwhile the great leaders of the rebellion were marshalling the
hordes of treason, and assembling them on the plains of Manassas, with
the undoubted intention of moving upon the national capital. This point
determined the principal theatre of the opening contest, and around it
on every side, and particularly southward, was to be the aceldama of
America, the dreadful 'field of blood.'

"The first great impulse of the authorities was in the direction of
self-defence, and Washington was fortified and garrisoned. This done, it
was believed that the accumulating forces of the Union, which had become
thoroughly equipped and somewhat disciplined, ought to advance into the
revolted Territory, scatter the defiant hosts of the enemy, and put a
speedy end to the slave-holders' rebellion."

Again we quote a description of an incident of the cavalry fight at
Brandy Station:

"At a critical moment, when the formidable and ever increasing hosts of
the enemy were driving our forces from a desirable position we sought to
gain, and when it seemed as though disaster to our arms would be fatal,
Kilpatrick's battle-flag was seen advancing, followed by the tried
squadrons of the 'Harris Light,' the 'Tenth New York,' and the 'First
Maine.' In echelons of squadrons his brigade was quickly formed, and he
advanced, like a storm-cloud, upon the rebel cavalry, which filled the
field before him. The 'Tenth New York' received the first shock of the
rebel charge, but was hurled back, though not in confusion. The 'Harris
Light' met with no better success, and, notwithstanding their prestige
and power, they were repulsed under the very eye of their chief, whose
excitement at the scene was well-nigh uncontrollable. His flashing eye
now turned to the 'First Maine,' a regiment composed mostly of heavy,
sturdy men, who had not been engaged as yet during the day; and, riding
to the head of the column, he shouted, 'Men of Maine, you must save the
day! Follow me!' With one simultaneous war-cry these giants of the North
moved forward in one solid mass upon the flank of the rebel columns. The
shock was overwhelming, and the opposing lines crumbled like a 'bowing
wall' before this wild rush of prancing horses, gleaming sabres, and
rattling balls.

"On rode Kilpatrick, with the 'men of Maine,' and, on meeting the two
regiments of his brigade, which had been repulsed, and were returning
from the front, the General's voice rang out like trumpet notes, above
the din of battle, 'Back, the "Harris Light!" Back, the "Tenth New
York!" Reform your squadrons and charge!' With magical alacrity the
order was obeyed, and the two regiments, which had been so humbled by
their first reverse, now rushed into the fight with a spirit and success
which redeemed them from censure, and accounted them worthy of their
gallant leader. The commanding position was won; a battery, lost in a
previous charge, was re-captured, and an effectual blow was given to the
enemy, which greatly facilitated the movements which followed."

From numerous press notices, eulogistic of this work, which appeared
shortly after its publication, we select the following from the Chicago

     "For the thousands of warriors who entered upon life too late to
     participate in the war of the rebellion; for the thousands who
     entered upon life too soon to be permitted a sight of its glorious
     and hideous scenes; for the thousands who snuffed the smoke of
     battle from afar; no better book could have been produced than this
     'Three Years in the Federal Cavalry.' ... It tells them in
     thrilling and glowing language of the most exciting phases of the
     contests.... It is a book that will thrill the heart of every old
     soldier who reads its historic pages.... The author carries his
     readers into every scene which he depicts. Throughout the book one
     is impressed with the idea that he saw all that he describes....
     The triumphs, the despondencies, the sufferings, the joys of the
     troops, are feelingly and vigorously painted.... His book is a
     noble tribute to the gallant horsemen, who have too often been

The Syracuse _Herald_ remarks:

     "Among the newest, and we may truly say the best of the books on
     the civil war, is a work by the widely-known author, Captain
     Willard Glazier, entitled 'Three Years in the Federal Cavalry.'...
     Its pages teem with word-painting of hair-breadth escapes, of
     marches, of countermarches, bivouacs and battles without number.
     Stirring memories of Brandy Station, Chantilly, Antietam,
     Fredericksburg, Yorktown, Falmouth and Gettysburg, are roused by
     the masterly _raconteur_, until in October, 1864, just beyond New
     Baltimore, the gallant captain was captured, and for a year
     languished in 'durance vile.' The interest in the narrative never
     flags, but rather increases with each succeeding page. For those
     who love to fight their battles o'er again, or those who love to
     read of war's alarms, this volume will prove most welcome."

The New York _Tribune_ is

     "Sure that 'Three Years in the Federal Cavalry' will meet with the
     same generous reception from the reading public that has been given
     to the former works of this talented young author. The fact that
     Captain Glazier was an eye-witness and participant in the thrilling
     scenes of which he writes, lends additional interest to the work."

The New York _Star_ says:

     "'Three Years in the Federal Cavalry' brings to light many daring
     deeds upon the part of the Union heroes, that have never yet been
     recorded, and gives an insight into the conduct of the war which
     historians, who write but do not fight, could not possibly give. It
     is full of incident, and one of the most interesting books upon the
     war that we have read."

From the New York _Globe_ we cull the following:

     "To a returned soldier nothing is more welcome than conversation
     touching his experience 'in the field' with his companions, and
     next to this a good book written by one who has known 'how it is
     himself,' and who recounts vividly the scenes of strife through
     which he has passed. Such a work is 'Three Years in the Federal
     Cavalry.' Captain Glazier's experiences are portrayed in a manner
     at once interesting to the veteran, and instructive and
     entertaining to those who have but snuffed the battle from afar. An
     old soldier will never drop this book for an instant, if he once
     begins it, until every word has been read. There is an air of truth
     pervading every page which chains the veteran to it until he is
     stared in the face with 'Finis.' The details and influences of
     camp-life, the preparations for active duty, the weary marches to
     the battle-field, the bivouac at night, the fierce hand-to-hand
     strife, the hospital, the dying volunteer, the dead one--buried in
     his blanket by the pale light of the moon, far, far away from those
     he loves--the defeat and victory--every scene, in fact, familiar to
     the eye and ear of the 'boy in blue,' is here most truthfully and
     clearly photographed, and the soldier is once more transported back
     to the days of the rebellion. Captain Glazier's style is easy and
     explicit. He makes no endeavor to be poetic or eloquent, but tells
     his story in a straightforward manner, occasionally, however,
     approaching eloquence in spite of himself. We cheerfully and
     earnestly commend 'Three Years in the Federal Cavalry' to the
     public as a most readable, entertaining and instructive volume."

[Illustration: A Cavalry Bivouac]

Among the manifold testimonials we have seen to the merits of this work,
the following from the poetic pen of Mrs. Maud Louise Brainerd, of
Elmira, New York, is at once beautiful and eloquent of praise, and
must not therefore be omitted from the chaplet we are weaving for the
brow of the 'soldier-author:'

    "Have you heard of our Union Cavalry,
      As Glazier tells the story?
    Of the dashing boys of the 'Cavalry Corps,'
      And their daring deeds of glory?

    "This modest volume holds it all,
      Their brave exploits revealing,
    Told as a comrade tells the tale,
      With all a comrade's feeling.

    "The Union camp-fires blaze anew,
      Upon these faithful pages,
    Anew we tremble while we read
      How hot the warfare rages.

    "We hear again the shock of arms,
      The cannon's direful thunder,
    And feel once more the wild suspense
      That then our hearts throbbed under.

    "The deeds of heroes live again
      Amid the battle crashes,
    As, Phoenix-like, the dead take form
      And rise from out their ashes.

    "Where darkest hangs the cloud and smoke,
      Where weaker men might falter,
    The brave Phil Kearney lays his life
      Upon his country's altar.

    "Kilpatrick's legions thunder by,
      With furious clang and clatter,
    Rushing where duty sternly leads,
      To life or death--no matter!

    "Oh, hero-warriors, patriots true!
      Within your graves now lying,
    How bright on History's page to-day
      Shines out your fame undying!

    "The pomp and panoply of war
      Have vanished; all the glitter
    Of charging columns, marching hosts
      And battles long and bitter,

    "Recede with the receding years,
      Wrapped in old Time's dim shadow;
    Where once the soil drank patriot gore,
      Green, now, grow field and meadow.

    "But here the written record stands
      Of all that time of glory,
    And bright through every age shall live
      These names in song and story.

    "Willard Glazier wrote his name
      First in war's deeds, then slipping
    His fingers off the sword, he found
      The mightier pen more fitting.

    "Read but the book--'twill summon back
      The spirits now immortal,
    Who bravely died for fatherland
      And passed the heavenly portal!"

Such was the demand for the work that one hundred and seventy-five
thousand copies of it were sold, and we may safely predicate that in the
homes of thousands of veterans scattered all over the land, the book has
been a source of profound interest in the help it has afforded them in
recounting to family and friends the thrilling events of their war



  "Battles for the Union."--Extracts.--Bull Run.--Brandy
    Station.--Manassas.--Gettysburg.--Pittsburg Landing.--Surrender
    of General Lee.--Opinions of the press.--Philadelphia "North
    American."--Pittsburg "Commercial."--Chicago
    "Inter-Ocean."--Scranton "Republican."--Wilkes-Barre "Record of
    the Times."--Reading "Eagle."--Albany "Evening Journal."

"Battles for the Union,"--published by Dustin Gilman and Company,
Hartford, Connecticut--was the next work that emanated from our soldier
author's prolific pen. The most stubbornly contested battles of the
great Rebellion herein find forcible and picturesque description. "I
have endeavored," Glazier writes in his preface to this interesting
work, "in 'Battles for the Union' to present, in the most concise and
simple form, the great contests in the war for the preservation of the
Republic of the United States;" and as evidence of the manner in which
this task was undertaken, we shall again present to the reader some
passages from the work itself.

As an illustration of descriptive clearness and force, combined with
conciseness and simplicity of narrative, we present the opening of the
chapter on Bull Run:

"The field of Bull Run and the plains of Manassas will never lose their
interest for the imaginative young or the patriotic old; for on this
field and over these plains are scattered the bones of more than forty
thousand brave men of both North and South, who have met in mortal
combat and laid down their lives in defence of their principles.

"On the twenty-first of July, 1861, was fought the battle of Bull Run,
the first of a long series of engagements on these historic plains. The
battles of Bristoe, Groveton, Manassas, Centreville, and Chantilly
succeeded in 1862, and in the summer and autumn of 1863 followed the
cavalry actions at Aldie, Middleburg, Upperville, and New Baltimore.

"No battle-ground on the continent of America can present to the
generations yet to come such a gigantic Roll of Honor. Here also was
displayed the best military talent, the keenest strategy, and the
highest engineering skill of our civil war. Here were assembled the
great representative leaders of slavery and freedom. Here Scott,
McDowell, Pope, and Meade on the Federal side, and Beauregard, Johnson,
and Lee on the Confederate side, have in turn held the reins of battle
and shared both victory and defeat.

"The action which resulted in the fall of Fort Sumter developed
extraordinary talent in the rebel General P. G. T. Beauregard, and
brought him conspicuously before the Confederate government. Called for
by the unanimous voice of the Southern people, he was now ordered to
take command of the main portion of the Confederate army in northern
Virginia. He selected Manassas Junction as his base of operations, and
established his outposts near Fairfax Court-House, seventeen miles from

"General Beauregard's forces, on the line of Bull Run, numbered on the
sixteenth of July nearly forty thousand men, and sixty-four pieces of
artillery, together with a considerable body of cavalry. The threatening
attitude of this force, almost within sight of the National capital, led
General Scott to concentrate the Union forces in that quarter with a
view to meeting the Confederates in battle, and, if possible, giving a
death-blow to the rebellion.

"Ludicrous, indeed, in the light of subsequent events, was the general
conviction of the hostile sections, that a single decisive engagement
would terminate the war. Little did the Unionists then know of the
ambitious designs of the pro-slavery leaders, and still less did the
uneducated, misguided masses of the South know of the patriotism,
resources, and invincible determination of the North. On both sides
there was great popular anxiety for a general battle to determine the
question of relative manhood: and especially on the side of the South,
from an impression that one distinct and large combat resulting in its
favor, and showing conspicuously its superior valor, would alarm the
North sufficiently to lead it to abandon the war. The New York
_Tribune_, which was supposed at that time to be a faithful
representative of the sentiment and temper of the North, said, on the
nineteenth of July, 1861: 'We have been most anxious that this struggle
should be submitted at the earliest moment to the ordeal of a fair,
decisive battle. Give the Unionists a fair field, equal weapons and
equal numbers, and we ask no more. Should the rebel forces at all
justify the vaunts of their journalistic trumpeters, we shall candidly
admit the fact. If they can beat double the number of Unionists, they
can end the struggle on their own terms.

"A field for the grand combat was soon found, but its results were
destined to disappoint both the victors and the vanquished. The South
had looked forward to this field for an acknowledgment of its
independence; the North for a downfall of the rebellion."

The chapter on "Brandy Station" affords several illustrations of our
author's glowing descriptive power, thus:

"The words Brandy Station will ever excite a multitude of thrilling
memories in the minds of all cavalrymen who saw service in Virginia, for
this was the grand cavalry battle-ground of the war.

"On these historic plains our Bayard, Stoneman, and Pleasanton have
successively led their gallant troopers against the commands of Stuart,
Lee, and Hampton. The twentieth of August, 1862, the ninth of June,
twelfth of September, and eleventh of October, 1863, are days which
cannot soon be forgotten by the 'Boys in Blue' who crossed sabres with
the Confederates at Brandy Station.

"Converging and diverging roads at this point quite naturally brought
the cavalry of the contending armies together whenever we advanced to,
or retired from, the Rapidan. Being both the advance and rear-guard of
the opposing forces, our horsemen always found themselves face to face
with the foe on this field; in fact, most of our cavalrymen were so
confident of a fight here, that as soon as we discovered that we were
approaching the station we prepared for action by tightening our
saddle-girths and inspecting our arms.

"Upon the withdrawal of the Army of the Potomac from the Peninsula,
General Lee, contemplating the invasion of Maryland and Pennsylvania,
started his army northward with the view, no doubt, of driving Pope
from northern Virginia, and carrying the Confederate standard into the
loyal States. The battle of Cedar Mountain temporarily checked his
forward movement and compelled him to retire to the south bank of the
Rapidan. The reappearance of rebel skirmishers at the various fords of
the river on the morning of August the eighteenth, 1862, was an evidence
to our pickets that the enemy was about to resume hostilities.

"General Pope at once ordered his artillery and infantry to retire
beyond the Rappahannock, while General Bayard, commanding the cavalry,
was charged with covering the rear of the retiring army. We disputed the
advance of the rebels so stubbornly that they found no opportunity to
interfere with the retreat of the main column. The morning of the
twentieth found the 'Harris Light,' Tenth New York, First Pennsylvania,
First Maine, First Rhode Island, and First New Jersey Cavalry,
bivouacked at Brandy Station.

"The engagement opened at six o'clock by an attack of Stuart's cavalry
upon the 'Harris Light' acting as rear-guard of Bayard's brigade.

"This preliminary onset was speedily repulsed by the 'Harris Light,'
which regiment kept the enemy in check until General Bayard had gained
sufficient time to enable him to form his command at a more favorable
point, two miles north of the station, on the direct road to the
Rappahannock. Here the 'Harris Light' led by Colonel Kilpatrick and
Major Davies, again charged the advanced regiments of the Confederate
column, thus opening the series of memorable conflicts at Brandy
Station, and adding fresh laurels to its already famous record. A deep
cut in a hill, through which the Orange and Alexandria Railroad passes,
checked our pursuit, else we should have captured many prisoners. The
First New Jersey and First Pennsylvania coming to our relief enabled us
to reform our broken squadrons, and, as Pope had instructed General
Bayard not to bring on a general engagement, the cavalry now crossed the
Rappahannock and awaited the orders of the general-in-chief."

The following description of "Manassas or Second Bull Run" shows great
mastery of his subject, and the possession of a facile and impartial

"On the twenty-ninth of August, 1862, the storm of battle again broke
over the plains of Manassas, and surged furiously along the borders of
Bull Run creek and down the Warrenton pike. The figure of General Franz
Sigel stands out in bold relief against the background of battle, the
first actor appearing on the scene in this drama of war and death.

"The time is daybreak, and the rosy light of early dawn, so peaceful and
so pure, flushes the sky in painful contrast to the scenes of strife and
bloodshed below.

"At noon on the day previous, General Pope had ordered Reno, Kearney and
Hooker to follow Jackson, who, through the miscarriage of well-laid
plans, had been allowed to escape in the direction of Centreville.
McDowell's command, then on the way to Manassas, was ordered to march to
Centreville, while Porter was directed to come forward to Manassas
Junction. The orders were promptly executed by the various commands,
excepting that of Fitz-John Porter, who unaccountably on loyal
principles, remained inactive during the ensuing contest. Kearney drove
the enemy out of Centreville, and in their retreat along the Warrenton
Road they encountered the division of King, McDowell's advance, marching
eastward to intercept them.

"A sharp fight took place, terminating to the advantage of neither, and
at night the contestants bivouacked near the battle-field.

"On the night of the twenty-eighth, Pope's forces were so disposed that
twenty-five thousand men under McDowell, Sigel and Reynolds, were ready
to attack Jackson from the south and west, and the corps of Reno,
Heintzelman, and Porter, consisting of an equal number of troops, were
to complete the attack from the east. Lee was pushing forward his forces
to support Jackson at Thoroughfare Gap, and it was necessary for the
Union army to use all possible celerity of movement, in order to make
the attack before the main movement of the Confederate army under Lee
could come up. But this combination failed like many another, and during
the night King's division fell back towards Manassas Junction, at which
place Porter's Corps had recently arrived, and the road to Gainsville
and Thoroughfare Gap was thus left open to Jackson. A new arrangement of
troops became therefore necessary."...

There are several fine passages in the description of the battle of
Gettysburg which show graphic power, and penetration into the motives of
the leaders. The story of this sanguinary struggle for victory is well
told throughout. We extract the following:

"Night came on to close the dreadful day. Thus far the battle had been
mostly to the advantage of the rebels. They held the ground where
Reynolds had fallen, also Seminary Ridge, and the elevation whence the
Eleventh Corps had been driven. They also occupied the ridge on which
Sickles had commenced to fight. Sickles himself was _hors du combat_
with a shattered leg, which had to be amputated, and not far from twenty
thousand of our men had been killed, wounded, and captured. The rebels
had also lost heavily in killed and wounded, but having gained several
important positions, were deluded with the idea that they had gained a

       *       *       *       *       *

"During these days of deadly strife and of unprecedented slaughter, our
cavalry was by no means idle. On the morning of the first, Kilpatrick
advanced his victorious squadrons to the vicinity of Abbottstown, where
they struck a force of rebel cavalry, which they scattered, capturing
several prisoners, and then rested. To the ears of the alert cavalry
chieftain came the sound of battle at Gettysburg, accompanied with the
intelligence, from prisoners mostly, that Stuart's main force was bent
on doing mischief on the right of our infantry lines, which were not far
from the night's bivouac.

"He appeared instinctively to know where he was most needed; so, in the
absence of orders, early the next morning he advanced on Hunterstown. At
this point were the extreme wings of the infantry lines, and as
Kilpatrick expected, he encountered the rebel cavalry, commanded by his
old antagonists, Stuart, Lee and Hampton. The early part of the day was
spent mostly in reconnoitring, but all the latter part of the day was
occupied in hard, bold, and bloody work. Charges and counter-charges
were made; the carbine, pistol and sabre were used by turns, and the
artillery thundered long after the infantry around Gettysburg had sunk
to rest, well-nigh exhausted with the bloody carnage of the weary day.
But Stuart, who had hoped to break in upon our flank and rear, and to
pounce upon our trains, was not only foiled in his endeavor by the
gallant Kilpatrick, but also driven back upon his infantry supports and
badly beaten.

"In the night, Kilpatrick, after leaving a sufficient force to prevent
Stuart from doing any special damage on our right, swung around with the
remainder of his division to the left of our line, near Round Top, and
was there prepared for any work which might be assigned him.

"Friday, July third, the sun rose bright and warm upon the blackened
forms of the dead which were strewn over the bloody earth; upon the
wounded, who had not been cared for, and upon long glistening lines of
armed men, ready to renew the conflict. Each antagonist, rousing every
slumbering element of power, seemed to be resolved upon victory or

"The fight commenced early, by an attack of General Slocum's men, who,
determined to regain the rifle-pits they had lost the evening before,
descended like an avalanche upon the foe. The attack met with a prompt
response from General Ewell. But after several hours of desperate
fighting, victory perched upon the Union banners, and with great loss
and slaughter, the rebels were driven out of the breast-works, and fell
back upon their main lines near Benner's Hill.

"This successful move upon the part of our Boys in Blue was followed by
an ominous lull or quiet, which continued about three hours. Meanwhile
the silence was fitfully broken by an occasional spit of fire, while
every preparation was being made for a last, supreme effort, which it
was expected would decide the mighty contest. The scales were being
poised for the last time, and upon the one side or the other was soon to
be recorded a glorious victory or a disastrous defeat. Hearts either
trembled, or waxed strong in the awful presence of this responsibility.

"At length one o'clock arrived, a signal-gun was fired, and then at
least one hundred and twenty-five guns from Hill and Longstreet
concentrated and crossed their fires upon Cemetery Hill, the centre and
key of our position. Just behind this crest, though much exposed, were
General Meade's headquarters. For nearly two hours this hill was plowed
and torn by solid shot and bursting shell, while about one hundred guns
on our side, mainly from this crest and Round Top, made sharp response.
The earth and the air shook for miles around with the terrific
concussion, which came no longer in volleys, but in a continual roar. So
long and fearful a cannonade was never before witnessed on this
continent. As the range was short and the aim accurate, the destruction
was terrible.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Gradually the fire on our side began to slacken, and General Meade,
learning that our guns were becoming hot, gave orders to cease firing
and to let the guns cool, though the rebel balls were making fearful
havoc among our gunners, while our infantry sought poor shelter behind
every projection, anxiously awaiting the expected charge. At length the
enemy, supposing that our guns were silenced, deemed that the moment for
an irresistible attack had come. Accordingly, as a lion emerges from
his lair, he sallied forth, when strong lines of infantry, nearly three
miles in length, with double lines of skirmishers in front, and heavy
reserves in rear, advanced with desperation to the final effort. They
moved with steady, measured tread over the plain below, and began the
ascent of the hills occupied by our forces, concentrating somewhat upon
General Hancock, though stretching across our entire front.

       *       *       *       *       *

"General Picket's division was nearly annihilated. One of his officers
recounted that, as they were charging over the grassy plain, he threw
himself down before a murderous discharge of grape and canister, which
mowed the grass and men all around him as though a scythe had been swung
just above his prostrate form.

"During the terrific cannonade and subsequent charges, our ammunition
and other trains had been parked in rear of Round Top, which gave them
splendid shelter. Partly to possess this train, but mainly to secure
this commanding position, General Longstreet sent two strong divisions
of infantry, with heavy artillery, to turn our flank, and drive us from
this ground. Kilpatrick, with his division, which had been strengthened
by Merritt's regulars, was watching this point and waiting for an
opportunity to strike the foe. It came at last. Emerging from the woods
in front of him came a strong battle-line, followed by others.

[Illustration: Battle Of Gettysburg.]

"To the young Farnsworth was committed the task of meeting infantry with
cavalry in an open field. Placing the Fifth New York in support of
Elder's battery, which was exposed to a galling fire, but made reply
with characteristic rapidity, precision and slaughter, Farnsworth
quickly ordered the First Virginia, the First Vermont, and Eighteenth
Pennsylvania in line of battle, and galloped away and charged upon the
flank of the advancing columns. The attack was sharp, brief and
successful, though attended with great slaughter. But the rebels were
driven upon their main lines, and the flank movement was prevented. Thus
the cavalry added another dearly earned laurel to its chaplet of
honor--_dearly earned_, because many of their bravest champions fell
upon that bloody field.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Thus ended the battle of Gettysburg--the bloody turning-point of the
rebellion--the bloody baptism of the redeemed republic. Nearly twenty
thousand men from the Union ranks had been killed and wounded, and a
larger number of the rebels, making the enormous aggregate of at least
forty thousand, whose blood was shed to fertilize the Tree of Liberty."

The following peroration to the glowing account of the battle of
Pittsburg Landing, we quote as an illustration of the vein of poetry
that pervades his writings:

"Thus another field of renown was added to the list, so rapidly
increased during these years; where valor won deathless laurels, and
principle was reckoned weighter than life.

"Peacefully the Tennessee flows between its banks onward to the ocean,
nor tells aught of the bloody struggle on its shore. Quietly the golden
grain ripens in the sun, and the red furrow of war is supplanted by the
plowshares of peace. To the child born within the shadow of this
battle-field, who listens wonderingly to a recital of the deeds of this
day, the heroes of Shiloh will, mayhap, appear like the dim phantoms of
a dream, shadowy and unreal, but the results they helped to bring about
are the tissue of a people's life; the dust he treads is the sacred soil
from which sprang the flowers of freedom, and the institutions for which
these men died, make his roof safe over his head."

We conclude our extracts from the volume with a part of the chapter on
"The Surrender." The story is told without flourish of trumpets, and in
a manner to give no offense to the vanquished, while its strict and
impartial adherence to truth must recommend it to all readers:

"The last act in the great drama of the war took place without dramatic
accessory. There was no startling tableau, with the chief actors grouped
in effective attitudes, surrounded by their attendants. No spreading
tree lent its romance to the occasion, as some artists have fondly

"A plain farm-house between the lines was selected by General Lee for
the surrender, and the ceremony of that act was short and simple. The
noble victor did not complete the humiliation of the brave vanquished by
any triumphal display or blare of trumpets. In his magnanimity he even
omitted the customary usage of allowing the victorious troops to pass
through the enemy's lines and witness their surrender. The two great
commanders met with courteous salutation, General Lee being attended by
only one of his aides. General Grant sat down at a table in the barely
furnished room and wrote in lead-pencil the terms of capitulation, to
which Lee dictated an agreement in writing. His secretary, Colonel
Marshall, and Colonel Badeau, the secretary of General Grant, made
copies of the agreement from the same bottle of ink.

       *       *       *       *       *

"The final situation of the Confederate army before its surrender was
indeed desperate--its environments hopeless. Hemmed in at Appomattox
Court House, on a strip of land between the Appomattox and James rivers,
the Union army nearly surrounded it on all sides. Sheridan was in front,
Meade in the rear, and Ord south of the Court House. Lee had no
alternative other than the wholesale slaughter of his reduced army, or
its surrender to Federal authority. He wisely chose the latter.

"The decisive battle of Five Forks had put his army to rout, and sent it
in rapid retreat towards the junction of the Southside and Danville
railroads at Burkesville. The Union troops pressed forward in pursuit,
and it became a vital question which would reach the junction first.
Between Petersburg, their point of starting, and their destination, at
Burkesville, the distance was fifty-three miles. The roads were bad, and
the troops tired with two days' fighting; but they pushed on with
determination in this race which was destined to decide the fate of two

       *       *       *       *       *

"It was Palm Sunday, April the ninth, 1865, when the capitulation was
signed, in the plain frame dwelling near Appomattox Court House.

"One is often struck with the curious coincidences--the apparent
sympathy between nature and important human events. The dying hours of
Cromwell and Napoleon were marked by violent storms. Omens in earth and
sky were the precursors of the death of Julius Cæsar and King Duncan. A
great comet heralded the opening of the war, and Palm Sunday--the day
which commemorates the victorious entry of Christ into Jerusalem,
ushered in the welcome reign of peace. The time was auspicious; the
elements were rocked to sleep in a kind of Sunday repose. The two
armies, so long in deadly hostility, were now facing each other with
guns strangely hushed. An expectant silence pervaded the air. Every
heart was anxiously awaiting the result of the conference in the
historic farm-house.

"When at last the news of the surrender flashed along the lines,
deafening cheers rose and fell for more than half an hour, over the
victorious Union army. Other than this, there was no undue triumphal
display of the victors over the conquered foe.... The shout of joy which
was sent up that day from Appomattox Court House echoed through the
entire North. Cannons boomed forth their iron pæans of victory; the glad
clash of bells was heard ringing 'peace and freedom in,' and bonfires
flamed high their attestation of the unbounded delight everywhere
exhibited. The day of jubilee seemed to have come, and rejoicing was the
order of the hour. The storm of war which had rocked the country for
four long years, was now rolling away, and the sunlight of peace fell
athwart the national horizon. The country for which Washington fought
and Warren fell was once more safe from treason's hands, and liberty was
again the heritage of the people."

The Northern and Western press, as heretofore, again bore its flattering
testimony to our author's diligence, truthfulness and loyalty to his
colors; and to the surprising facility with which a soldier could
sheathe his sword and wield a pen, charming alike the veteran by his
details of valor, and the mother, wife and sister by his stories of
pathos from the battle-field.

The following is from the Philadelphia _North American_:

     "'Battles for the Union.'--Thoroughly representative of the courage
     and ability shown on either side in the great struggle that lasted
     from the close of 1860 to April, 1865. It is not the purpose of the
     author to present a standard and critical work like the works of
     Jomini, Napier and Allison; nor to include a discussion of
     political questions. His aim is rather to furnish a vivid and
     correct account of the principal battles in such simple and
     intelligible terms that every reader may gain a precise idea of
     each. His style is rather graphic and vigorous than ornate. He
     introduces effective details and personal episodes. His facts are
     gleaned from a variety of sources as well as from personal
     knowledge; and though proud of his own cause and of his companions,
     he does not belittle their renown by decrying the valor or the
     intelligence of his opponents. The conflicts themselves will never
     be forgotten. It is desirable that they shall be kept vivid and
     clear in the minds of the rising generation, to cultivate a correct
     idea of the necessity of personal valor and of military preparation
     and capacity, as well as impress a serious idea of the momentous
     importance of political issues. Captain Glazier's volume is
     excellently fitted to instruct and interest everywhere."

The Pittsburg _Commercial_ says:

     "Commencing with the siege and final surrender of Fort Sumter, the
     author traces the progress of the Union armies through all the
     chief battles of the war, giving vivid and glowing descriptions of
     the struggles at Big Bethel, Bull Run, Wilson's Creek, Ball's
     Bluff, Mill Spring, Pea Ridge, the fight between the 'Merrimac' and
     'Monitor,' Newbern, Falmouth Heights, Pittsburg Landing,
     Williamsburg, Seven Pines, Fair Oaks, Malvern Hill, Cedar Mountain,
     Brandy Station, Manassas or Second Bull Run, Chantilly, Antietam,
     Corinth, Fredericksburg, Stone River, Chancellorsville, Aldie,
     Upperville, Gettysburg, Vicksburg, Port Hudson, Falling Waters,
     Chickamauga, Bristoe, New Baltimore, Fort Fisher, Olustee, Fort
     Pillow, Cold Harbor, Fort Wagner, Cedar Creek, Waynesboro,
     Bentonville, Five Forks, and down to the surrender of Lee. Captain
     Glazier has evidently had access to the official records of the
     war, and his narrative of the great events are therefore accurate.
     The book is one the reading of which will make the blood tingle in
     the veins of every soldier who took part in the late war, while it
     will deeply interest every lover of his country. As a book for
     boys, it has few, if any, superiors."

The Chicago _Inter-Ocean_ writes:

     "'Battles for the Union' is such a history as every soldier and
     every man who has a pride in his country, should wish to possess.
     Captain Glazier was no carpet knight. He shared the glories of the
     Harris Light Cavalry in camp and field, earning his promotion from
     the non-commissioned ranks to the command for which he was so
     admirably fitted. There is the scent of powder in what he writes,
     the vivid reality of sight and understanding. We are particularly
     charmed with his style, which is plain, blunt, direct, and free
     from strain or affectation. He describes the fights as they were
     fought; individual deeds of bravery as they were performed; the
     march and its trials; the defeat and its causes; the victory and
     its effects. With the ardor of a young patriot, and the generous
     admiration of a good soldier, he feels as great a pride in the
     successes of a rival corps as in his own. Nor is this an unworthy
     feature of his work, because the army was full of little, and
     sometimes not particularly friendly, rivalries. Willard Glazier's
     chapters, in which every battle may be regarded as a separate
     picture, read like a grand panoramic view of gallant deeds and
     warlike pageantries. If the author occasionally covers up a clear
     defeat, excusing it with graceful art; if he feels disposed to
     over-estimate a slight advantage, and to claim a victory where the
     battle was evidently drawn, he errs upon the side of love for the
     Boys in Blue, and pride in the flag under which he fought. The work
     is divided into forty-four chapters, each containing a different
     battle. We confidently recommend these graphic and life-like
     pictures to the notice of our readers. They are thrilling as the
     sound of the trumpet, and soul-inspiring as the songs of Ossian. We
     call the reader's attention to the description of the combat
     between the 'Merrimac' and 'Monitor' in chapter eight. It is
     something which will fill with pride the sailor's heart."



  Literary zeal.--"Heroes of Three Wars"--Extract from preface.--Sale
    of the work.--Extracts: Washington.--Winfield Scott.--Zachary
    Taylor.--Grant.--Sheridan.--Kilpatrick.--Press reviews, a few out
    of many: Boston "Transcript."--Chicago "Inter-Ocean."--Baltimore
    "Sun."--Philadelphia "Times."--Cincinnati "Enquirer."--Worcester
    "Spy."--Pittsburg "Gazette."

By this time our soldier-author found himself not only famous, but,
through the enormous sale of his books, in comparatively affluent
circumstances. His literary zeal, however, was not yet spent, and work
succeeded work with a rapidity almost without parallel, while the extent
of their sale exceeded anything hitherto known in the literary world.

"Heroes of Three Wars," issued by Hubbard Brothers, Philadelphia, the
latest production of his pen which he has as yet published, comprises
original and life-like sketches of the brave soldiers of the
Revolutionary, Mexican and Civil Wars; and the stories are told in a way
that is not easily forgotten. In the wide field presented by these three
important epochs in the history of our country, Glazier has labored to
inculcate in the minds of young Americans the virtues of gallantry, true
worth, and patriotism; and his work is valuable as presenting to the
student in a small compass, so much of interest in biography and

In the preface to the work he observes: "Washington, Scott and Grant are
names that will live forever in our history; not because they were the
subjects of a blind adulation, but because their worth was properly
estimated, and their deeds truthfully recorded. The time for deifying
men has long since passed; we prefer to see them as they are--though
great, still human, and surrounded with human infirmities; worthy of
immortal renown, not because they are unlike us, but because they excel
us and have performed a work which entitles them to the lasting
gratitude of their countrymen. Another object of this book is to group
around these three generals, those officers and men who climbed to
immortality by their side, shared their fortunes, helped to win their
victories, and remained with them to the end." Again: "Biographies
possess but little value unless they give living portraits, so that each
man stands out clear and distinct in his true character and

Several thousand copies of this valuable work have already been called
for by the public, and it bids fair to equal its predecessors in amount
of circulation. As a specimen of its style, we present to the reader the
following extract from the biographical sketch of Washington:--"There is
a singular unanimity of opinion in ascribing to George Washington an
exceptional character. It was certainly one of peculiar symmetry, in
which a happy combination of qualities, moral, social and intellectual,
were guided to appropriate action by a remarkable power of clear
judgment. It was just the combination calculated to lead a spirited and
brave people through such a trying crisis as the American Revolution.
His star was not dark and bright by turns--did not reveal itself in
uncertain and fitful glimmerings--but shone with a full and steady
luminosity across the troubled night of a nation's beginning. Under
these broad and beneficent rays the Ship of State was guided, through a
sea of chaos, to safe anchorage. The voyage across those seven eventful
years was one that tried men's souls. Often, appalling dangers
threatened. Wreck on the rocks of Disunion, engulfment in the mountain
waves of opposition, starvation and doubt and mutiny on shipboard--these
were a few of the perils which beset their course. But a royal-souled
Commander stood at the helm, and discerned, afar-off, the green shores
of liberty. On this land the sunshine fell with fruitful power. The air
was sweet with the songs of birds. Contentment, peace, prosperity,
reigned. Great possibilities were shadowed forth within its boundaries,
and a young nation, growing rapidly towards a splendid era of
enlightenment, was foreseen as a product of the near future. It took a
man with deep faith in the ultimate rule of right and in humanity, to
occupy that position; a man with large heart, with unselfish aims, with
prophetic instincts, with clear and equalized brain. George Washington
possessed all these qualities--and more!"

The following is from the admirably graphic sketch of the sturdy
soldier, Winfield Scott: "On the twenty-fifth of the same month (July,
1814), a little below that sublime spot where the wide waste of waters
which rush over the Falls of Niagara roar and thunder into the gulf
below, and where Lundy's Lane meets the rapid river at right angles, was
enacted the scene of conflict which took its name from the locality, and
is variously called the battle of 'Lundy's Lane,' or 'Niagara.' The
action began forty minutes before sunset, and it is recorded that the
head of the American column, as it advanced, was encircled by a
rainbow--one which is often seen there, formed from the rising spray.
The happy omen faithfully prefigured the result; for when, under the
cloudy sky of midnight the battle at length terminated, the Americans
were in possession of the field, and also the enemy's cannon, which had
rained such deadly death into their ranks. In this action General Scott
had two horses killed under him, and about eleven o'clock at night he
was disabled by a musket-ball wound through the left shoulder. He had
previously been wounded, and at this juncture was borne from the fray.
He had piloted Miller's regiment through the darkness to the height on
Lundy's Lane, where the enemy's batteries were posted, and upon which
the grand charge was made that decided the battle. Throughout the action
he was the leading spirit of the occasion, giving personal direction to
the movements of his men, and lending the inspiration of his presence to
all parts of the field."

Of Zachary Taylor, our author writes, in his masterly way: "The blaze of
glory which is concentrated upon the name and life of Zachary Taylor,
reveals a hero as true in metal, as sterling in virtue, as intrepid in
action, and tender of heart, as ever lifted sword in the cause of honor
or country. On him has fallen that most sacred mantle of renown, woven
from the fabric of a people's confidence, and lovingly bestowed--not as
upon a being of superior race to be worshipped, but because he was a
leader from among themselves--truly of the people. He was honored with
their fullest trust in his integrity, and with their largest faith in
his uprightness as a man. As Daniel Webster truly said, the best days
of the Roman republic afforded no brighter example of a man, who,
receiving the plaudits of a grateful nation, and clothed in the highest
authority of state, reached that pinnacle by more honest means; who
could not be accused of the smallest intrigue or of pursuing any devious
ways to political advancement in order to gratify personal ambition. All
the circumstances of his rise and popularity, from the beginning of his
career, when, amid blood and smoke, he made the heroic defence of Fort
Harrison, to the wonderful battles of Palo Alto, Resaca, and Buena
Vista, and at last the attainment of the Presidential chair--all repel
the slightest suspicion of sinister motive, or a wish for individual
aggrandizement. The unwavering rule of his life--his guide in every
action--was the simple watchword, 'duty.'

"As to his qualities of leadership, they shone out in high relief, from
first to last. In the war of 1812, he was only a captain, yet at Fort
Harrison he inspired the scanty garrison with a belief in his power, and
they gave him their devoted support. In the Florida campaign he
commanded only a brigade, yet he seemed to infuse into every soldier the
most courageous bravery. In the beginning of the war with Mexico, he
marched into action at the head of a single division, and when this
force afterwards swelled into an army, it did not prove too much for the
resources of its commanding general. The frowning heights and barricaded
streets of Monterey, bristling with ten thousand Mexicans, did not daunt
him. What though he had only six thousand men with which to hold them in
siege? The assault was fearlessly made, the streets were stormed, the
heights were carried, the city was won--and kept!

"The brilliant victory of Buena Vista, where five thousand Americans
hurled back and repulsed a tumultuous Mexican horde of twenty thousand,
only reiterates the same marvelous story of superior leadership."

       *       *       *       *       *

"Fresh from these splendid achievements, he received the nomination for
President over the names of Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, and General
Scott. It was a spontaneous expression of the people's confidence,
unheralded and unsought. And when he was triumphantly elected over the
Democratic and Free-soil candidates--General Cass, Martin Van Buren, and
Charles Francis Adams--he accepted the high office in a spirit of
humility and simple compliance with duty."

In the sketch of General U. S. Grant's life, our author has written with
a masterly hand the outlines of the grand career of his favorite
general, the salient points of which are given with a soldierly energy
and dash befitting the theme. Thus the chapter commences:

"The occasion often creates the man, but the man who _masters_ the
occasion is born, not made. Many are pushed to the surface, momentarily,
by the pressure of events, and then subside into common levels; but he
is the true commander during a crisis, who can wield the waves of
difficulty to advantage, and be a sure pilot amid the on-rush of events
when they thicken and deepen into a prolonged struggle.

"When, during the late war, our country needed a leader to face and
quell the threatened danger of disunion, and conduct her armies to
successful issues; and when Government entrusted those momentous issues
to Ulysses S. Grant, 'the man and the moment had met,'--the occasion had
found its master.

"Napoleon said that the most desirable quality of a good general was
that his judgment should be in equilibrium with his courage. To no
commander of modern times could this rule apply with more force than to
Grant. A man of no outward clamor of character, no hint of bluster or
dash, quiet-voiced, self-controlled, but not self-asserting, he yet
displayed vast power as an organizer, as a tactician, and in masterly
combinations of large forces so as to produce the most telling effects.
It has been truly said of him that no general ever stamped his own
peculiar character upon an army more emphatically than did Grant upon
the Army of the Tennessee. It was the only large organization which, as
a whole, never suffered a defeat during the war. It was noted for its
marvelous persistence--its determined fighting qualities--and had the
reputation of being sure to win any battle that lasted over a day, no
matter what the odds against it. It was at Grant's recommendation that a
united command was concentrated in the Mississippi Valley--which
concentration has since been acknowledged to have been the basis of all
our subsequent victories.

"Generosity, mildness and kind-heartedness, shone as conspicuously in
Grant's character as his firmness and great generalship. Simplicity of
manner and kindness of heart are always characteristic of the true hero.

    'The bravest are the tenderest,
    The loving are the daring.'

"The rapid and bold descent upon Fort Donelson, the unconquerable
determination exhibited at Shiloh, the brilliant capture of Vicksburg,
and the high military science displayed at Chattanooga Valley, Look-out
Mountain, and Missionary Ridge--these have never been surpassed in
military history, in splendor of execution, or judiciousness of

For brevity and comprehensiveness we commend the following unique
paragraph on the genealogy of his subject:

"The great-grandfather of Ulysses was Captain Noah Grant, who was killed
at the battle of White Plains, during the French and Indian wars, in
1776. His grandfather, Noah Grant, Jr., fought at Lexington as
lieutenant of militia, and afterwards, during the Revolution. His
father, Jesse, emigrated from Pennsylvania to Ohio, and was married at
Point Pleasant, Ohio, June, 1821, to Hannah Simpson, whose father was
also from the Keystone State. Ulysses was born the following year, April
twenty-seventh, 1822."

We quote again from the sketch of Grant:

"On the sixth of February the brilliant reduction of Fort Henry, on the
Tennessee, was accomplished by Foote, and Fort Donelson, twelve miles
distant, was next in line. Grant and Foote were co-operating by land and
water; but Foote did not meet here with the same success that attended
him at Fort Henry. It was the fifteenth of February, and Grant had spent
two or three days in making an investment of the high and wooded bluff
from which frowned the guns of Donelson. Before daybreak, on the
fifteenth, he had gone on board the flag-ship of Foote, in consultation
as to the time and manner of attack, when the enemy swept from their
works and fell upon the Union lines with tremendous force. The fighting
became furious at once, and for some time the battle-line swayed to and
fro, between victory and defeat. It was desperate work; brigades and
regiments were repulsed and by turns advanced--the brave commands
disputing every inch of the rocky and difficult battle-field. When Grant
reached the scene it was 'to find his right thrown back, ammunition
exhausted, and the ranks in confusion.' With quick inspiration he took
in the situation at a glance, comprehended that the enemy had exhausted
his greatest strength, and ordered an immediate attack by the left on
the Confederate works in front. General Smith was in command of this
portion of the army, and had not actively participated in the conflict.
He therefore brought fresh troops to the assault. McClernand was also
ordered to reform his shattered ranks and advance. The combined forces
charged with splendid valor up the rocky steeps, in the blaze of a
withering fire poured down upon them from the fort. They did not falter
for a single instant, but reaching the summit, swept over and into the
Confederate works with ringing cheers. On the next morning a white flag
was seen flying from the fort, and under its protection, proposals for
an armistice were sent in. Grant replied that unconditional surrender,
and that immediately, must be made, or he would move on their works at
once. Thereupon, Buckner, who was in command, surrendered the fort with
its thirteen thousand men. This splendid victory blazoned the name of
Grant all over the country, and he immediately became the people's

       *       *       *       *       *

"His next achievement, the capture of Vicksburg, was wonderful indeed.
Its natural strength of position on a high bluff, one hundred feet
above the water level, added to the formidable array of defences which
bristled defiance to all foes, made Vicksburg a very citadel of power,
and the fifty thousand men stationed there under Pemberton and Price did
not lessen the difficulties to be overcome. A fort, mounting eight guns,
sentineled the approach to the city from beneath, while the heights
above were guarded by a three-banked battery. Eight miles of batteries
lined the shore above and below Vicksburg. Grant made several fruitless
attempts to get to the rear of the city by digging canals across the
strip of land on which it stood, and making an inland route; but each
one, after herculean labor, had been abandoned. He now decided on the
bold enterprise of running the gauntlet of these batteries with his
transports. This desperate feat was successfully accomplished; but
before he could land his troops at Grand Gulf, which he had selected as
his starting-point, it was necessary to run its batteries as he had
those of Vicksburg, land his troops farther down the river, and capture
the place by hard fighting. He waited for nothing. Hurrying forward the
moment he touched land, his object was to take Grand Gulf before the
enemy could reinforce it.... After conquering Grand Gulf, where he
expected Banks to join him, he was confronted with the refusal of that
general to co-operate with him. In this dilemma nothing but a
master-stroke of genius could wring success from the materials of
defeat. He saw what was before him, and with true inspiration became the
master of circumstances. At the head of his brave command he pushed
inland, aiming to crush the enemy 'in detail before he could concentrate
his forces.' By a rapid series of brilliant marches, battles and
victories, Grant had, at last, on the nineteenth of May, succeeded in
completely investing Vicksburg. The whole plan from its outset was
brilliant to an extraordinary degree, and the tireless persistence and
energy shown in its accomplishment, stamped this man as a very Gibraltar
of military genius.

"An assault on the enemy's works at first, had proven a failure, and now
the wonderful siege began. For forty-six days the digging and mining
went patiently forward, while screaming shells and booming shot produced
a reign of terror in the city, until at last, Pemberton could hold out
no longer and surrendered his starving garrison to the superior prowess
and strategy of Grant. It was the morning of the fourth of July when our
troops took possession of Vicksburg, and ran up the stars and stripes
from the top of the court-house. The soldiers, standing beneath it, sang
'Rally round the Flag,' and Grant became more than ever the popular
hero. On the thirteenth of July, Lincoln wrote him a letter of 'grateful
acknowledgment for the almost inestimable service' he had rendered the
country. In September he was placed in command of the 'Departments of
the Ohio, of the Cumberland, and of the Tennessee, constituting the
Military Division of the Mississippi.'

       *       *       *       *       *

"Grant assumed the duties of his high office [the lieutenant-generalship
of the army] without flourish of any sort, and proceeded to inaugurate
the successive steps of his last great campaign. The military resources
which centered in his hand were stupendous, but had they fallen under
the control of a man less great than he, their very immensity would
have rendered them powerless. The splendid army of the Potomac was on
the move by May third, and the last march to Richmond had begun. Then
came the three-days' battle of the Wilderness, on the south bank of the
Rapidan, bloody and terrible and strange, during which some of our
troops were fighting continuously for forty-eight hours; and following
close after came also Spottsylvania, which was the result of an endeavor
to cut off Lee's retreat. This, too, was a desperate conflict, where
precious blood flowed in rivers. Then followed the race between the two
opposing armies, for the North Anna. After crossing this river, and
finding the Confederates occupying a fortified position on the South
Anna, Grant 'swung his army around to the Pamunky, and pitched his
head-quarters at Hanover Court House,' These masterly flank movements,
in which he manoeuvred his vast army with such ease, exhibited his
marvelous genius in stronger light than ever before. From the Pamunky he
advanced to the Chickahominy, and, after the battle of Cold Harbor, made
a rapid but quiet change of front on the night of the twelfth of June,
and two days afterwards crossed the James and advanced against
Petersburg and Richmond. The attack, at first a success, failed through
a blunder, not Grant's; and then began the long siege which ended at
last in the evacuation of Petersburg and Richmond. Nowhere was the joy
more heartfelt over these results than among the released captives of
Libby Prison.

"Lee made a desperate endeavor to escape the 'manifest destiny' that
pursued him, and led his army a 'race for life.' But Grant, close on his
track, environed him on all sides, and the surrender at Appomattox
became inevitable. When, at the final scene, Lee presented his sword to
Grant, the great general handed it back to him, saying, 'it could not be
worn by a braver man.'"

       *       *       *       *       *

We present the reader with the following extracts from the sketch of
General Sheridan. It will be observed that the author is extremely happy
in the selection of his subjects, his aim evidently being to include
those only whose reputation for heroism is unquestioned and national.

"Sheridan is probably the most intense type of 'soldiership' brought to
light by the last war. Nor can any other war furnish an individual
example that will surpass him in fiery concentration. In battle he is
the very soul of vehement action--the incarnate wrath of the storm. No
historian can ever portray the man so truly as did the remarkable
victory of Cedar Creek--a result solely of his extraordinary power. The
marvelous will-force with which he could hurl himself in the front of
battle, and infuse his own spirit of unconquerable daring into the
ranks, is phenomenal, to say the least."

       *       *       *       *       *

"When Grant became Lieutenant-General, Sheridan was given the command of
the cavalry of the army of the Potomac, and all his subsequent movements
evinced wonderful daring, skill and energy. No trust committed to his
charge was ever misplaced, no matter what its magnitude or importance.

"When the Confederate Generals Ewell and Early were sent into the
Shenandoah Valley, and went so far north as to threaten Washington,
Grant consolidated the four military divisions of the Susquehanna,
Washington, Monongahela and West Virginia, into the 'army of the
Shenandoah,' and placed Sheridan in command. He defeated Early at
Opequan, September nineteenth--for which he was made brigadier-general
of the United States army; defeated him again at Fisher's Hill on the
twenty-second, and on October the nineteenth occurred the battle of
Cedar Creek.

"The position of Sheridan's army at this time was along the crest of
three hills, 'each one a little back of the other,' The army of West
Virginia, under Crook, held the first hill; the second was occupied by
the Nineteenth Corps, under Emory, and the Sixth Corps, with Torbet's
cavalry covering its right flank, held the third elevation. Early,
marching his army in five columns, crossed the mountains and forded the
north branch of the Shenandoah River, at midnight, on the eighteenth. He
knew that Sheridan had gone up to Washington, and wanted to take
advantage of his absence to surprise the unsuspecting camp. The march
was conducted so noiselessly that, though he skirted the borders of our
position for miles, nothing came to the ears of our pickets, save in a
few instances where a heavy muffled tramp was heard, but disregarded as
of no consequence.

"The gray gloom of early morning hovered over the camp, when a
reconnoitring force from Crook's army was preparing to go out. Suddenly,
a wild yell burst through the fog which hid from view the Confederate
army. A withering musketry fire and the clash of arms quickly followed.
Before our surprised and panic-stricken troops could be formed in
battle-array, the enemy were upon them, and after a short and sharp
encounter, the army of Western Virginia was thrown into utter rout--a
mass of fugitives flying before the pursuing foe back towards the second
hill where the Nineteenth Corps was encamped.

       *       *       *       *       *

"The Nineteenth Corps attempted to arrest the Confederate advance, but
the enemy getting in our rear and enfilading us with our captured
batteries, the troops broke ranks and fell back in confusion towards the
encampment of the Sixth Corps, on the third hill in the rear.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Sheridan, meantime, was at Winchester, where he had arrived the night
before, intending to go on to Cedar Creek the next morning. As he sipped
his coffee at breakfast he did not for an instant dream of the terrible
rout and disaster hovering at that moment over his army. When he rode
out of Winchester the vibrations of the ground under the heavy
discharges of artillery in the distance gave the first intimations of
danger. But he was not yet alarmed, knowing the security of his
position. As he went onward, however, the thunder of the cannon
deepened, and then the terrible truth flashed upon him. He dashed spurs
into his horse and was soon tearing madly along the road, far ahead of
his escort.

"For five anxious hours the desperate struggle had gone on, when
Sheridan arrived on the field, encountering first the stream of
fugitives surging northward. They turned about as they saw their
invincible leader flying towards the front, and even the wounded along
the roadside cheered him as he passed. Swinging his cap over his head,
he shouted: 'Face the other way, boys!--face the other way! We are going
back to our camps! We are going to lick them out of their boots!'

"It was about ten o'clock when, with his horse covered with foam, he
galloped up to the front. Immediately, under his quick commands, the
broken ranks were reformed, and when the Confederates made their next
grand charge across the fields the terrific repulse that met and hurled
them back showed the turn of the tide, and compelled them to relinquish
the offensive. For two hours Sheridan rode back and forth along the
line, seeming to be everywhere at once, infusing into the men his own
daring courage and enthusiasm. Shouts and cheers followed him; and
though the tired soldiers had been fighting for five long hours and had
eaten nothing since the night before, his presence was both food and
inspiration, and everything seemed to be forgotten in an all-controlling
impulse to follow their glorious leader to victory.

"Early retired his troops a short distance after their repulse, and
began throwing up breastworks. But the intrepid Sheridan had no notion
of allowing him to retain that position. He meant to regain Cedar Creek
and rout the enemy. At half-past three a bold charge was made. An awful
musketry and artillery fire was poured into the advancing Union columns,
and, at first, the lines broke and fell back; but Sheridan rose at once
to the needs of the crisis, and with superhuman efforts restored order
and resumed the advance. Then came 'the long-drawn yell of our charge,'
and 'everything on the first line, the stone walls, the tangled wood,
the advanced crest, and half-finished breastworks, had been carried.'

"The panic-stricken enemy was sent flying in utter rout through
Middletown, through Strasburg, through Fisher's Hill, and to Woodstock,
sixteen miles beyond. Early was thus effectually driven out of the
Shenandoah Valley, and permanently crippled.

"This wonderful victory, due to Sheridan's personal presence alone, put
a crown on his head which few warriors could pluck from the heights of

       *       *       *       *       *

"On March the fourth, 1869, he received the promotion of
lieutenant-general, and was appointed to the command of the Division of
the Missouri, of the Platte, and of Texas, with head-quarters at

       *       *       *       *       *

The name of Kilpatrick kindles enthusiasm in the breast of every
cavalryman of the late war, and our author, having served under him, has
sketched his life, _con amore_, in vivid and thrilling language, and
with a keen appreciation of his great merits as a cavalry leader. The
following extract will confirm our view:

"Like the French Murat, Kilpatrick seems to have been born to become a
very demi-god of cavalry. Daringly heroic on the field, he displayed a
supreme genius for war, especially for that department of the service
whose alarum cry is, 'To horse!' and whose sweeping squadrons, with wild
clatter of hoofs, seem to the fervid imagination to be making a race for
glory, even though it be through the gates of death.

"It is quite in keeping with everything about Kilpatrick that he should
choose the cavalry as a vehicle for his high ambition and noble
patriotism. Such energies as his could scarcely be content with less
dash or less brilliance of action. The beginning of his war career was
one of romance, and his previous life indicated an unusual range of
abilities. He first figures as the boy-orator, speaking in favor of a
Congressional candidate, with all the fresh warmth and enthusiasm of his
young nature. Then we see him as cadet at West Point, from which he
graduates fifteenth in his class and is given the honor of
valedictorian. The day of graduation is hastened a few months by the
startling guns of Sumter, which proclaim treason rampant, and fire all
loyal breasts with a desire to rush to the rescue of their country's
beloved flag. The impatience and enthusiasm of Kilpatrick could not be
restrained, and through his influence a petition was signed by
thirty-seven of his class to be allowed to graduate at once and go to
the front. The request was granted, and that day was one of especial
significance at West Point. It was also one of equal significance in his
life; for the little chapel, where had rung out the words of his
farewell address, also witnessed the sacred ceremony of his marriage
with the lady of his love, and on that evening the young soldier and his
bride took the train for Washington and the front. We know little of the
bride except that she was enshrined in her husband's heart, and that her
name--'Alice'--was inscribed on the silken banner under which he fought,
and so gloriously led his troopers to victory and renown. No one can
tell how much that name may have had to do with his future marvelous
success. To natures like his, the magic of a name thus loved, fluttering
aloft in the smoke of battle, becomes talismanic, and inspires almost
superhuman heroism."

       *       *       *       *       *

"When McDowell marched to Falmouth, he was once more at the front, and,
in conjunction with Colonel Bayard and the First Pennsylvania Cavalry,
made a brilliant night-attack on Falmouth Heights, routing Lee's cavalry
and capturing the place. For this dashing achievement Kilpatrick
received the thanks of the commanding general. Afterwards, under Pope's
command, he made his first famous raid in breaking up 'Stonewall'
Jackson's line of communication with Richmond from Gordonsville in the
Shenandoah Valley, over the Virginia Central Railway. At Beaver Dam,
Frederick's Hall, and Hanover Junction, he burned the stations,
destroyed the tracks, and daringly attacked the enemy wherever he could
find him. These events took place during July and August, 1862, and the
boldness of the operations, in the very heart of the enemy's country,
filled the North with Kilpatrick's fame....

"When Hooker was placed at the head of the Army of the Potomac, the
cavalry was reorganized under Stoneman as chief, and that general, in
the following campaign, assigned to Kilpatrick the work of destroying
the railroad and bridges over the Chickahominy. Four hundred and fifty
men were given him for the work; but with this small force he brought to
the difficult mission his usual skill, and, avoiding large forces of the
enemy, raided to within two miles of Richmond, where he captured
'Lieutenant Brown, aide-de-camp to General Winder, and eleven men within
the fortifications.' He says: 'I then passed down to the left to the
Meadow Bridge on the Chickahominy, which I burned, ran a train of cars
into the river, retired to Hanover-town on the Peninsula, crossed just
in time to check the advance of a pursuing cavalry force, burned a train
of thirty wagons loaded with bacon, captured thirteen prisoners, and
encamped for the night five miles from the river,' This was the manner
of his conquering quest, until on the seventh he again struck the Union
lines at Gloucester Point, having made a march of about 'two hundred
miles in less than five days, and captured and paroled over eight
hundred prisoners.' In the accomplishment of this splendid feat he lost
only one officer and thirty-seven men.

"At Chancellorsville, when Lee came into Maryland and massed his cavalry
at Beverly Ford, Pleasonton was sent forward on a reconnaissance, and
met the enemy in battle at Brandy Station. This is renowned as the
greatest cavalry battle of the war. General Gregg arrived upon the field
at half-past ten in the morning, and though his noble squadrons fought
well and bravely, these columns were rolled back, and for a moment, all
seemed lost, and overwhelmed by the superior numbers of the foe. But at
this crisis, Kilpatrick, posted on a slight rise of ground, unrolled his
battle-flag to the breeze, and his bugles sounded the charge. He had
under his command, the Harris Light, Tenth New York, and First Maine.
The formation for an onset was quickly made, and the disciplined
squadrons of these three regiments were hurled upon the enemy. But the
Tenth New York recoiled before the murderous fire of the enemy's
carbines. So did the Harris Light. Kilpatrick was maddened at the sight.
He rushed to the head of the First Maine regiment, shouting, 'Men of
Maine, you must save the day!' Under the impulse of this enthusiasm,
they became altogether resistless, and in conjunction with the reformed
squadrons of the two other regiments, swept the enemy before them, and
plucked victory, with glorious valor, from the very jaws of defeat. On
the next day Kilpatrick was made brigadier-general."

       *       *       *       *       *

Having presented extracts from "Heroes of Three Wars," and ventured to
express, incidentally and briefly our own humble opinion of the merits
of this work, we will now, in confirmation of our judgment, give some
reviews of the Press--a few out of many. Throughout the North the work
was hailed with not a little enthusiasm, by soldiers and civilians
alike--as a work of decided literary merit, and one written in a fair,
truthful, and loyal spirit, replete with much valuable historical
information of a character not otherwise easily attainable, and
calculated to accomplish much good among the rising generation.

The Boston _Transcript_ says:

     "The bivouac, the march, the hand-to-hand conflict with bristling
     steel, the head-long charge, the ignominious retreat, and the
     battle-field after the bloody assault, with its dead and wounded
     heroes, are all excellently portrayed, and with an ease and vigor
     of style that lend a peculiar charm to the book, and rivet the
     attention of the reader from cover to cover. It is really
     refreshing to meet with such a work as this in these degenerate
     days of namby-pamby novels, so enervating to mind and morals.
     Captain Glazier's work elevates the ideas, and infuses a spirit of
     commendable patriotism into the young mind, by showing the youth of
     the country how nobly men could die for the principles they
     cherished and the land they loved."

The Chicago _Inter-Ocean_ writes as follows:

     "It is correct in facts, graphic in its delineations, and in all
     its makeup is a most admirable volume. It will do the young men,
     and even those older, good to glance at these pages and read anew
     the perils and hardships and sacrifices which have been made by the
     loyal men who met and overthrew in battle the nation's enemies.
     The book is of absorbing interest as a record of brave deeds by as
     brave and heroic men as ever answered a bugle's call. The author
     writes no fancy sketch. He has the smoke and scars of battle in
     every sentence. He answered roll-call and mingled amid the exciting
     events he relates. No writer, even the most praised correspondents
     of the foreign journals, have given more vivid descriptions
     soul-stirring in their simple truthfulness, than Captain Glazier in
     his 'Heroes of Three Wars.'"

The Baltimore _Sun_ writes:

     "'Heroes of Three Wars' is written by the masterly hand of one who
     has evidently enjoyed a personal acquaintance with many of the
     subjects introduced, and is not only thoroughly imbued with the
     spirit of his work, but as thoroughly inspires his readers. Captain
     Glazier has familiarized himself with all of the details of
     interest in the lives of a grand galaxy of heroes, and has put on
     paper, in a condensed and graphic form, a clear picture of what he
     has treasured up in his own mind. We know of no book that contains
     so faithful a presentation of our brave defenders in so condensed
     and satisfactory a form."

The Philadelphia _Times_ observes:

     "The soldier-author does his work in an artless, patriotic,
     beautiful style, and gives to his readers a real and not an
     imaginary idea of army life in all its lights and shades. Captain
     Glazier has laid his countrymen under lasting obligations to him,
     especially in this new book, 'Heroes of Three Wars.'"

The Cincinnati _Enquirer_ remarks:

     "Captain Glazier rises above the conventional war-writers' idioms,
     and gives his work a place in literature and history. Here is found
     the stern actuality of war's fearful tug; here the beautiful pathos
     of pure manly sentiment flowing from the heart of many a brave soul
     on the battle's eve; here the scenes of sad and solemn burial where
     warriors weep. The din of battle on one page, and the jest at the
     peril past on the next--the life-test and the comedy of camp--these
     alternatingly checker the work over, and give the reader a truer
     insight into the perils and privations of our brave defenders than
     any book we have read."



  From Boston to San Francisco.--An unparalleled ride.--Object of the
    journey.--Novel lecture tour.--Captain Frank M. Clark.--"Echoes
    from the Revolution."--Lecture at Tremont Temple.--Captain
    Theodore L. Kelly.--A success.--Proceeds of lecture.--Edward F.
    Rollins.--Extracts from first lecture.--Press notices.

The story of the career of Willard Glazier will not be complete without
some description of his novel and adventurous feat of riding on
horseback across the continent of North America--literally from ocean to
ocean, or from Boston to San Francisco. This unparalleled ride was
satisfactorily accomplished by him in 1876--the Centennial year. It was
a long and trying journey, extending over a period of two hundred days,
and a distance of four thousand one hundred and thirty-three miles, but
at the same time a journey of great interest. His object was to study,
at comparative leisure, the line of country through which he would pass,
and to note the habits and condition of the people he came in contact
with. The knowledge thus laboriously acquired he purposed placing before
the public in book form.

While thus in the commendable pursuit of knowledge, he also contemplated
making some practical return for the many kindnesses and courtesies he
had received at the hands of soldiers since the disbandment of the
volunteer army, and the wide circulation of the first product of his
pen, _The Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape_; and it had occurred to him
that to accomplish this he might turn his journey to beneficial account
by lecturing at the various towns he visited, and handing over the
proceeds to the Widows' and Orphans' fund of the "Grand Army of the
Republic," of which patriotic society he was a member; or to some other
benevolent military organization.

The thought no sooner entered his mind than, with his usual promptitude,
the resolution was formed, and, with the following letter of
introduction from Captain Frank M. Clark, of New York, he at once
proceeded to Boston:

                                                 4 Irving Place,
                                         New York, _April 20, 1876._

     To Comrades of the G. A. R.:

     I have been intimately acquainted with Captain Willard Glazier, a
     comrade in good standing of Post No. 29, Department of New York,
     "Grand Army of the Republic," for the past eight years, and know
     him to be worthy the confidence of every loyal man. He is an
     intelligent and courteous gentleman, an author of good repute, a
     soldier whose record is without a stain, and a true comrade of the
     "Grand Army." I bespeak for him the earnest and cordial support of
     all comrades of the Order.

                                    Yours very truly in F., C. and L.,
                                                   Frank M. Clark,
                        Late A. A. G. Department of New York, G. A. R.

[Illustration: Captain Glazier At Tremont Temple, Boston.]

On the evening of the eighth of May, 1876, Captain Glazier lectured as
arranged at Tremont Temple, Boston. His subject, appropriate to the
Centennial year, was entitled "Echoes from the Revolution." This was the
first occasion of any importance on which he had ever appeared on the
rostrum. It may here be mentioned that his friends strongly recommended
him to deliver the first lecture before a smaller and less critical
audience than he would be likely to confront in Boston, and thus
prepare himself for a later appearance in the literary capital; but our
soldier reasoned that as lecturing was a new experience to him, his
military education dictated that, if he could carry the strongest works
the weaker along the line would fall, as a matter of course, and so
resolved to deliver his first lecture in Tremont Temple. The lecture, as
we have said, had been prepared with a view to its delivery at various
towns and cities on the route he contemplated traveling. He was
introduced to his Boston audience by Captain Theodore L. Kelly,
Commander of Post 15, Grand Army of the Republic, and was honored by the
presence on the platform of representatives from nearly all the Posts of
Boston. Captain Kelly introduced his comrade in the following
complimentary manner:

"Ladies and Gentlemen: It gives me pleasure to have the honor of
introducing to you one who, by his services in the field and by the
works of his pen, is entitled to your consideration, and the confidence
of the comrades of the 'Grand Army of the Republic.' I desire to say
that he comes well accredited, furnished with the proper vouchers and
documents, and highly endorsed and recommended by the officers of the
Department of the State of New York. Though young in years, his life has
been one of varied and exciting experience. Born in the wilds of St.
Lawrence County, New York, his education was drawn from the great book
of nature; and from his surroundings he early imbibed a love of liberty.
His early associations naturally invested him with a love of adventure
and excitement, and when the call of war was heard he at once responded,
and enlisted in the Harris Light Cavalry, with which corps he passed
through many exciting scenes of march and fray. His experience amid the
various vicissitudes of the war, in camp and field and prison, have been
vividly portrayed by his pen in his various publications. Still inspired
by this love of adventure, he proposes to undertake the novelty of a
journey across the continent in the saddle. His objects are manifold.
While visiting scenes and becoming more familiar with his own country,
he will collect facts and information for a new book, and at his various
stopping-places he will lecture under the auspices and for the benefit
of the 'Grand Army of the Republic,' to whose fraternal regard he is
most warmly commended. Allow me then, ladies and gentlemen, without
further ceremony, to present to you the soldier-author, and our comrade,
Willard Glazier."

The lecture proved a success both financially and in the marked pleasure
with which it was received by a very select audience. In fulfillment of
his generous purpose in the application of the proceeds, Glazier on the
succeeding morning addressed a letter to the Assistant Adjutant-General,
Department of Massachusetts, Grand Army of the Republic, in the
following words:

                                                       Revere House,
                                              Boston, _May 9th, 1876_.

     Captain Charles W. Thompson,
        A. A. G. Department of Massachusetts, G. A. R.

     Comrade: I take pleasure in handing you the net proceeds of my
     lecture delivered at Tremont Temple last night, which I desire to
     be divided equally between Posts 7 and 15, G. A. R., of Boston, for
     the benefit of our disabled comrades, and the needy and destitute
     wards of the "Grand Army." Gratefully acknowledging many favors and
     courtesies extended to me in your patriotic city,

                                          I am yours in F., C. and L.,
                                                       Willard Glazier.

To this the following response was received:

                              Headquarters, Encampment John A. Andrew,
                                   Post 15, Dept. of Mass., G. A. R.,
                                          Boston, _May 12th, 1876._

     Captain Willard Glazier:

     Comrade: In obedience to a vote of this Post, I am pleased to
     transmit to you a vote of thanks for the money generously donated
     by you, through our Commander, as our quota of the proceeds of your
     lecture in this city; and also the best wishes of the comrades of
     this Post for you personally, and for the success of your lecture
     tour from sea to sea. Yours in F., C. and L.,

                                                   Edward F. Rollins,
                                                      Adjutant of Post.

We have said the lecture was a success, and as an evidence of the
appreciation by the audience of its subject, and the manner of its
delivery, together with the friendly feeling manifested towards the
lecturer, we adduce the following:

                                                  Department of Mass.,
                                          "Grand Army of the Republic."
                                            Boston, _June 16th, 1876._

     To _Captain Willard Glazier:_
         Dear Sir and Comrade:

     The undersigned comrades of "John A. Andrew" Encampment, Post 15,
     Department of Massachusetts, G. A. R., desire to testify to the
     pleasure afforded them by your lecture delivered at Tremont Temple
     on May 8th; also, to return their thanks for the liberal donation
     presented to this Post; and at the same time to express the hope
     that you may be successful in your object and journey.


    Theodore L. Kelly, _Commander_.     Thomas Langham.
    Edward F. Rollins, _Adjutant_.      J. Henry Brown.
    W. Brooks Frothingham.              George W. Powers, _Chaplain_.
    James T. Price.                     Robert W. Storer, _Q. M. S._
    Frank Bowman.                       Oliver Downing.
    Theodore L. Baker.                  James Mclean.
                     William S. Wallingford.

Before proceeding with our account of the journey, let us dwell for a
moment upon the features of the lecture prepared by Willard Glazier for
delivery at Boston. As might have been expected, it was a
military-historical lecture, adapted to the understanding and taste of a
mixed and educated audience, and was written in the same earnest,
original, patriotic and rousing style that characterizes his writings
throughout. Some parts of this lecture, in our opinion, are worthy of
comparison with the oratorical deliverances of eminent and practised
lecturers, and that the reader may judge for himself if the "Echoes of
the Revolution" lose aught of their sonorousness at this distant date,
when the reverberation reaches them through a lecture, we here present
an abstract of the opening:


"The year 1876 re-echoes the scenes and events of a hundred years ago.
In imagination we make a pilgrimage back to the Revolution. We visit the
fields whereon our ancestors fought for liberty and a Republic. We
follow patriots from Lexington to Yorktown. I see them walking through a
baptism of blood and of fire; their only purpose liberty; their only
incentive duty; their only pride their country; and their only ambition
victory. I see them with Warren and Prescott at Bunker Hill; I see them
with Washington at Valley Forge, hatless, without shoes, half-clad, and
often without food; encamped in fields of snow; patiently enduring the
rigors of a northern winter. I see them pushing their way through the
ice of the Delaware. I see them at Saratoga, at Bennington, at
Princeton, and at Monmouth. I follow Marion and his daring troopers
through the swamps of Georgia and the Carolinas. And, finally, we come
to that immortal day at Yorktown, when Cornwallis surrendered his sword
and command to George Washington.

"All the world is familiar with the causes which led to the struggle for
independence in America. We all know the spirit which animated the
people of the Colonies, from the seizure of Sir Edmond Andross in 1688
to the destruction of the tea in Boston harbor in 1774. No American is
ignorant of the efforts of John Hancock, Samuel Adams, Joseph Warren,
Patrick Henry, Alexander Hamilton, Paul Revere, and others, at clubs, in
newspapers, in pulpits, in the streets, and in coffee-houses, to guide
and prepare the people for the approaching crisis. All the facts from
the beginning to the close of that memorable conflict are given in
school-books, as well as in more pretentious history. But the immediate
cause of the march of the English troops from Boston to Concord seems to
be necessary to a comprehensive view of the subject.

       *       *       *       *       *

"On the nineteenth of April, 1775, a handful of the yeomanry of
Massachusetts, obeying a common impulse, came hurriedly together,
confronted a force of English regulars outnumbering them ten to one,
received their fire, were repulsed, and left eighteen of their number
dead and wounded on the green in front of Lexington. On the same day, at
Concord, less than four hundred undisciplined militia met a regiment of
the enemy, fired upon them, put them to flight, and compelled them to
retire to their intrenchments at Boston. It was the first step in that
war which gave us a Republic, and may be classed in history as one of
the decisive conflicts of modern times.

"Lexington and Concord were not the great battles of the Revolution;
they were, in fact, only skirmishes as compared with the more sanguinary
actions; but I dwell upon them as the opening scenes, the
starting-points, where the first shots were fired in an eight years' war
against British rule and British oppression in America....


"Despair was turned into joy by the telling victories of the Americans
at Trenton and Princeton, and the country began to see that her precious
blood had not been spilled in vain. Just at this juncture of affairs,
when it was necessary to follow up the tide of victory with vigorous
work, the term of enlistment of most of the men expired, and the
personal popularity and influence of the leaders was thus put to the
test. Would the men go, or could they be induced to stay through another
term of enlistment before seeking the respite they desired at their
homes? At this critical period, John Stark made an earnest appeal to his
regiment, and every man without exception re-enlisted for six weeks
under the banner of their beloved leader. Then Stark went to New
Hampshire for recruits, and hundreds flocked around his standard.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Soon after the surrender of Cornwallis, General Stark returned once
more to his home and farm. He had served his country long and
faithfully, and retired from his protracted period of active service
beloved by the people and full of honors. He lived to be ninety-four
years old, and consequently witnessed the war of 1812.

"He sleeps on the banks of the Merrimac, nor heeds the noisy rush of the
river as it speeds on its mission to the sea. No clash of musketry, no
roar of cannon will ever waken him more from his last deep repose. Men
call it death, but if it be death, it is that of the body only, for his
_memory_ still lives and speaks to us across the years. It bids us be
noble and unselfish, and high of purpose, and grand of aim. Will the
oncoming generations who con the story of the life of John Stark listen
to the preaching of such an example in vain?


"The surrender of Cornwallis may be considered the closing scene in the
war of the Revolution. The grim spectre of British rule over the
American Colonies vanished like the smoke of battle, while hirelings
were trembling and the patriot was prince. That was indeed a day of
triumph--a day of rejoicing. It was to the patriots the crown of all
their efforts. A long, loud, thrilling shout of joy arose from the
victorious band of Washington, and as the tidings of actual surrender
were borne throughout the country, the people everywhere broke forth in
wild huzzahs that echoed and re-echoed along the plains and among the
hills, from the lakes to the gulf, and from the Atlantic to the
mountains. There was joy because there was to be no more needless
sacrifice of life; because the soldier could now exchange the camp for
his home; the implements of war for the implements of industry; the
carnage of battle for the amenities of peace.

"The work for which they buckled on the armor was accomplished. They did
not rush to arms for the love of glory, nor to ward off an imaginary
foe. They came at their country's call, and having achieved her
independence, they were now ready for the pursuits of peace. They even
longed for the coveted seclusion of their homes, and the sweet security
of their firesides. I see them now marshaled for the last time to
receive an honorable discharge from a long campaign, the ensigns of
victory everywhere above them, the air vocal with the benedictions of a
grateful people. But on that great day of final discharge, at the last
roll-call, the heroes were not all there to answer to their names; there
were vacant places in the ranks. In the marching and counter-marching,
in the assault and in the defence; in the swamp and in the prison, mid
the fever and the pestilence, the patriots faltered not, but fell as
falls the hero, nobly daring, bravely dying, and though dead they are
not forgotten: their works do follow, and will forever live, after

"Justice to our heroic ancestors does not forbid reference to the
equally gallant 'Boys in Blue,' who by their invincible valor on the
battle-fields of the Rebellion preserved the unity of the Republic.

"The fight is done, and away in the far horizon the glorious days are
waxing dim. Even now, it is the bearded men who speak of Gettysburg; and
children clasp the knees that marched to Corinth and Chickamauga. Year
after year our soldiers meet to talk of glory; and year by year their
ranks grow thinner, older, grayer; and, by and by, the last survivors of
the war for the Union will sleep with their brothers who fell at Bunker

The press of Boston were highly commendatory in their notices of the
lecture and its delivery, as will be seen by the following extract from
the _Globe_:

     "A very fair audience, considering the unfair condition of the
     elements, was gathered in Tremont Temple last night, to hear
     Captain Glazier's lecture upon 'Echoes from the Revolution.' The
     frequent applause of the audience evinced not only a sympathy with
     the subject, but an evident liking of the manner in which it was
     delivered. The lecture itself was a retrospective view of the
     leading incidents of the Revolution. It would have been unfair to
     expect to hear anything very new upon a subject with which the
     veriest school-boy is familiar; but Captain Glazier wove the events
     together in a manner which freed the lecture from that most
     unpardonable of all faults, which can be committed upon the
     platform--dulness. He passed over, in his consideration of the
     Revolution, the old scenes up to the time when Cornwallis
     surrendered up his sword and command to George Washington. 'The
     year 1876,' said Captain Glazier, 're-echoes the scenes and events
     of a hundred years ago. In imagination we make a pilgrimage back to
     the Revolution. We visit the fields whereon our ancestors fought
     for liberty and a republic. We follow patriots from Lexington to
     Yorktown. I see them pushing their way through the ice of the
     Delaware--I see them at Saratoga, at Bennington, at Princeton, and
     at Monmouth. I follow Marion and his daring troopers through the
     swamps of Georgia and the Carolinas;' and in following them up, the
     lecturer interspersed his exciting narrative with sundry droll
     episodes. Treating of the battles of Trenton and Princeton, he
     expatiated upon the devoted heroism of John Stark, and briefly
     traced his career until, at Bennington, Burgoyne's victor announced
     to his comrades, 'We must conquer to-day, my boys, or to-night
     Molly Stark's a widow.' One battle after another was handled by the
     lecturer in a pleasing manner, showing that he was thoroughly
     familiar with the subject he had chosen for his theme. After
     speaking in a most zealous manner of the troops on land, Captain
     Glazier remarked: 'Our victories on the ocean during the war of the
     Revolution were not less decisive and glorious than those achieved
     on land. John Paul Jones and the gallant tars who, under his
     leadership, braved the dangers of the deep, and wrested from proud
     Britain, once queen of the sea, that illustrious motto which may be
     seen high on our banner beside the stars and stripes.'

     "Captain Glazier made special mention of the naval engagement
     between the Bon Homme Richard and the British man-of-war Serapis,
     which took place in September, 1789. He described in glowing words
     the fierce nature of that memorable contest, until the captain of
     the Serapis, with his own hand, struck the flag of England to the
     free stars and stripes of young America. Captain Glazier has
     elements in him which, carefully matured and nurtured, will make
     him successful on the platform, as he has already proved himself in
     the fields of literature. He has a strong and melodious voice, a
     gentlemanly address, and unassuming confidence. He was presented to
     the audience by Commandant Kelly, of Post 15, 'Grand Army of the
     Republic,' in a brief but eloquent speech. Captain Glazier will
     start on his long ride to San Francisco, from the Revere House,
     this morning, at 9.30, and will be accompanied to Bunker Hill and
     thence to Brighton, by several distinguished members of the 'Grand
     Army,' and other gentlemen, who wish the captain success on his
     long journey."

The Boston _Post_ said:

     "The lecturer spoke with a soldier's enthusiasm of those stirring
     times. In a very eloquent manner he traced the movements of the
     Revolutionary heroes from that day in April, 1775, when the
     undisciplined militia at Concord put the red-coats to flight and
     forced them to retire to their entrenchments at Boston, onward
     through the various battles to the surrender of Cornwallis. The
     different acts passed in rapid succession before the audience, and
     were enlivened with interesting details. In touching upon the
     different battles, the lecturer descanted upon the more eminent
     individuals whom the fate of war and opportunity brought to the
     front, and enshrined forever in the gallery of patriots. Bunker
     Hill came in for especial notice, where 'many brave and noble men
     gave up their lives.'...

     "Captain Glazier was frequently and loudly applauded during the
     delivery of his lecture. His voice is rich and powerful, his
     intonation accurate, and his general manner could not help
     imparting interest to the stirring deeds which he so graphically



  In the saddle.--Bunker Hill.--Arrives in
    Albany.--Reminiscences.--The Soldiers' Home.--Contributions for
    erecting Soldiers' Home.--Reception at
    of General Custer.--Monroe.--Lectures for Custer
    Monument.--Father of General Custer.--Detroit.--Kalamazoo.--An
    adventure.--Gives "Paul Revere" a
    rest.--Decatur.--Niles.--Michigan City.--Chicago.

From a journal kept by Captain Glazier during his horseback ride from
ocean to ocean, we shall gather most of the incidents of his journey--a
journey, so far as we are aware, without any precedent, and having for
its sole object the acquirement of knowledge. His intention was to
lecture in the leading cities and villages through which he passed, in
the interest of the relief fund of the "Grand Army of the Republic," to
which order he was greatly attached.

The Boston _Globe_ of May ninth, 1876, contained the following brief

     "Boston to San Francisco.--Captain Willard Glazier started from the
     Revere House this morning at eleven o'clock, on horseback, for San
     Francisco. Quite a gathering of his friends and comrades of the
     'Grand Army' were present to wish him God-speed. He was escorted by
     Colonel John F. Finley and E. A. Williston, who were mounted; and
     Adjutant-General Charles W. Thompson, Department of Massachusetts,
     'G. A. R.;' Commander Theo. L. Kelly, of Post 15; Adjutant Grafton
     Fenno, of Post 7, and many others in carriages, who will accompany
     him to Bunker Hill and thence to Brighton."

[Illustration: Ocean To Ocean On Horseback--riding Out Of Boston.]

The Captain's horse, which he had named "Paul Revere," was a noble
creature, black as jet, of good pedigree, and possessing, in no slight
measure, the sterling qualities of endurance, pace, and fidelity, albeit
occasionally somewhat restive and wilful.

On leaving the "Revere," the party referred to in the above notice
proceeded to Bunker Hill, gazed reverentially at the monument
commemorating the famous battle, and then headed for Brighton. The short
journey had been rendered comfortless by a continuous downfall of rain,
and when the friends halted at the Cattle-Fair Hotel for dinner, they
were all more or less drenched to the skin.

Much cordial interest was manifested in the work the captain had
undertaken and the motives that actuated him; and at length, taking
leave of his friendly escort, he pushed forward through Worcester,
Springfield, Pittsfield, Nassau, and on to Albany, covering a distance
of two hundred miles. At Beckett he found "Paul's" back becoming sore,
and as a good rider is always humane to his horse, he removed the
saddle, washed the abrasion with cold water, and before resuming his
journey put a blanket under the saddle-cloth, which kindly care afforded
"Paul" considerable relief. At Pittsfield, Glazier delivered his fourth
lecture in the Academy of Music, being introduced to his audience by
Captain Brewster, Commander of the Pittsfield Post, "Grand Army of the

His journey from Pittsfield was by the Boston and Albany Turnpike, over
the Pittsfield Mountain, passing the residence of Honorable Samuel J.
Tilden, then Governor of New York, and a candidate for the Presidency.
Starting from Nassau at eleven o'clock, he reached the old Barringer
Homestead soon after. It was with this family that he had spent his
first night in Rensselaer County, sixteen years before, when looking for
a school to teach, and he could not resist the temptation to stop a few
minutes at Brockway's, where he had boarded the first week after
entering the school at Schodack Centre as a teacher. At the hotel he
found Mrs. Lewis, the landlady, awaiting his approach, as she had been
told he would pass that way. He also halted for a moment at his old
school-house, where he found Miss Libby Brockway, one of the youngest of
his old scholars, teaching the school. "Thoughts of Rip Van Winkle," he
says, "flitted across my imagination as I contrasted the past with the

On the eighteenth of May Captain Glazier reached the fine old city of
Albany, capital of his native State, and in the evening of the same day
delivered his fifth lecture at Tweddle Hall.

Thrilling memories awaited him in Albany. Here, in 1859, he entered the
State Normal School. It was here his patriotism was aroused by
intelligence of the firing upon Fort Sumter, and he at once formed the
resolution to enter the army in defence of the Union; and it was in
Albany that the first edition of his first book saw the light through
the press of Joel Munsell, in the autumn of 1865. Here, it may be said,
his career in life commenced, when, leaving his country home in Northern
New York, he entered the Normal School.

The erection of a Soldiers' Home having been recently projected, Glazier
called on the adjutant-general at the State House, in relation to his
lecturing in the interest of the fund for that purpose. Colonel Taylor,
assistant adjutant-general, whom he had known for some years, presented
him to General Townsend, and he was recommended to see and consult with
Captain John Palmer, Past Grand Commander of the State, G. A. R.

Nothing can better prove the disinterested motives and objects of
Willard Glazier in undertaking his long and tedious journey on
horseback, than the numerous voluntary offerings he made to certain
military organizations whose claims so forcibly presented themselves to
him. This was simply characteristic of him. He has never valued money
but for the practical uses to which it may be applied in the
amelioration of the condition of others. Simple in his habits, and
unostentatious in his mode of life--indulging in no luxuries--he has
managed by sheer hard work to accumulate a fair fortune, which is of
value to him only so far as he can do good with it--first to those
having the strongest domestic claims upon him, and secondly, to his
comrades of the camp and the battle-field.

The following letters will explain themselves:

                                                       Delavan House,
                                              Albany, _May 28th, 1876_.

     Captain John Palmer, Past Grand Commander,
        Department of New York, G. A. R.

     Dear Sir and Comrade: I feel great pleasure in handing you
     herewith, forty dollars, which I wish to be applied to the fund for
     the erection of a Soldiers' Home, as lately proposed by our
     comrades at Brooklyn. Should it be your pleasure to endorse my
     lecture tour across the State, I feel confident that I could raise
     from five hundred to a thousand dollars for this most worthy
     object. Pledging my best efforts in the work, which I hope I need
     scarcely add, enlists my warmest sympathies, I have the honor to

                                        Yours in F., C. and L.,
                                                      Willard Glazier.

Captain Palmer, in acknowledging the donation, wrote as follows:

                                  Headquarters Department of New York,
                                       "Grand Army of the Republic,"
                                            Albany, _May 31st, 1876_.

     Captain Willard Glazier:

     Comrade: Your gift of forty dollars to the fund for the erection of
     the "Soldiers' Home" is duly received, and the same has been
     forwarded to Captain E. O. Parkinson, Chairman Soldiers' Home
     Committee, Brooklyn, New York, for which accept my thanks.

                            Very truly yours, in F., C. and L.,
                                                         John Palmer,
                                                  Department Commander.

On the twenty-second of May, "'Paul' being in good condition and the
best of spirits," our soldier-author started for Schenectady, paying his
respects to Captain Palmer on his way up Washington Avenue. Schenectady
was reached at four o'clock P. M. through frequent showers of rain.
Putting up at Gwinn's Hotel he delivered his lecture at Union Hall at
the usual hour in the evening, to a fair audience, notwithstanding the

The Schenectady _Union_ had heralded his approach by the following

     "Captain Glazier.--This noted soldier, author, rider, and raider,
     who raided during the war with General Kilpatrick, will advance
     upon this place next Monday, and in the evening lecture upon
     'Echoes from the Revolution.' Captain Glazier is a member of the
     'Grand Army' in good standing, and will be assisted here by the
     members of Post 14, with whom he will divide the profits of the
     lecture. The Captain was an inmate of Libby Prison at one time
     during the war, and finally made his escape to the Union lines. The
     book entitled 'Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape,' and several other
     war books, were produced by him."

Reaching Fonda, May twenty-sixth, we find the following entry in his
Journal: "Scenery charming. I saw nothing in Massachusetts equal to the
Valley of the Mohawk, and am surprised that novelist and poet have not
found more material here for legendary romance."

Passing through St. Johnsville, Little Falls, Utica, and Rome--where he
met a large number of his "Grand Army" comrades, and was introduced to
Hon. H. J. Coggeshall, Colonel G. A. Cantine, Hon. W. T. Bliss, and many
others--he arrived in Syracuse June second, registered at the Vanderbilt
House, and lectured at Shakespere Hall in the evening. Rochester was
reached on the eighth, where the tenth lecture was delivered to an
appreciative audience in Corinthian Hall--the introduction being made by
Colonel Reynolds. The Rochester _Democrat_ noticed the lecture in the
following paragraph:

     "A very large audience assembled at Corinthian Hall last evening to
     listen to Captain Willard Glazier's lecture on 'Echoes from the
     Revolution.' The lecture was a very interesting one, and the
     audience were agreeably entertained. Captain Glazier proposes to go
     to Batavia, and from thence to Buffalo. He is meeting with deserved
     success in his journey on horseback from ocean to ocean, which
     increases as he becomes better known."

It may here be remarked that during Captain Glazier's stay in Rochester,
an exception was made to the usually courteous reception given him by
the local press. One of the papers threw doubts on the genuineness of
his credentials and the rectitude of his motives. This, however, had
little effect on him. He was conscious of his own integrity of purpose,
and of being guided by a desire to do good while seeking knowledge and
recreation in his own way, and the only notice we find of the
circumstance in his Journal is in a few words under date of June
eleventh: "Was pleased with an article in the _Express_, contradicting
falsehoods in the _Union_."

The following is the article referred to:

    "On Friday our evening contemporary took occasion to treat Captain
    Willard Glazier, who lectured in Corinthian Hall the night previous,
    with a degree of contempt and misrepresentation suggestive of
    Confederate sympathies on the part of the writer. As to the methods
    of Captain Glazier's business we have nothing to do. As a man and a
    soldier, he is above reproach. We have examined the original
    documentary testimonials to his military character, and no man could
    be better endorsed. That he has devoted himself since the war to
    illustrate the war of the rebellion in books and upon the rostrum is
    to his credit, and certainly to the benefit of the people whose
    patriotism he keeps alive by his appeals with pen and tongue. Doubt
    was cast upon his services on account of his youth. But the fact
    stands that Willard Glazier was a captain of cavalry at the age of
    eighteen, certainly a higher record than that of a stay-at-home
    Copperhead. He performed his duty, was honorably discharged, and is
    a member in good standing of that noble organization of veterans,
    the 'Grand Army of the Republic.' We trust that when Captain Glazier
    comes again to Rochester, he will have better treatment and a still
    better audience. His trip across the continent will result in the
    public's having a record of observations which cannot fail to be
    valuable and entertaining."

Batavia, Croft's Station, Crittenden and Lancaster were passed through,
the usual courtesies tendered and accepted, lectures delivered with
unvarying success, and the city of Buffalo reached on the morning of the
nineteenth of June.

With a soldier's instinct, Glazier halted here at the parade-ground, and
witnessed the drill of the militia. He then located himself at No. 34
Oak Street, where he was visited by many comrades of the "Grand Army"
and other prominent citizens of Buffalo. Arrangements having been made,
he lectured to a full house at St. James Hall, being introduced to the
audience by Major John M. Farquhar. The following endorsement had
appeared in the Buffalo _Express_ the day preceding his arrival in the
city, signed by prominent members of the "Grand Army of the Republic:"

                                                     Buffalo, New York,
                                                  _June 18th, 1876._

     Captain Willard Glazier served his country with great credit in the
     Harris Light Cavalry. He was a brave soldier and has a splendid
     army record. His numerous works upon army life, recording his
     personal experiences on the battle-field, in camp and in prison,
     are exceedingly interesting and of a highly patriotic character;
     they are universally commended by the press and by men of army

     He is highly endorsed as a member in good standing of the "Grand
     Army of the Republic," and as a lecturer.

     The object of his lectures being to add to the fund for a Soldiers'
     Home in this State, we most cheerfully commend him to the people of
     this city, and earnestly hope he will receive a liberal patronage,
     and have a full house at St. James Hall on Monday evening, the
     nineteenth of June.


               George N. Brown,    William F. Rogers,
               George W. Flynn,    G. L. Remington,
               John B. Weber,      John M. Farquhar,
               James N. Mcarthur,  Charles B. Dunning,
               G. A. Scroggs,      Alfred Lytle,
               P. J. Ripont,       John A. Franke,
                          Richard Flash.

The lecture was a success, and the usual offering of the proceeds made
to the fund of the Soldiers' Home.

"Paul" was ordered at eight o'clock the following morning, and, again in
the saddle, Glazier proceeded at a walk to North Evans, distant from
Buffalo fifteen miles. His road laid along the banks of Lake Erie, a
circumstance which he notes in his diary as one of the events of his
journey, the beauty of the scenery, and fresh, cool air from the lake
being exceedingly pleasant and grateful on a hot day in June. He rode
"Paul" down to the beach and into the water up to his girths.

June twenty-fourth, we find the following entry:

"My journey from North Evans to Angola has been unusually pleasant. I
could see the lake, and feel its cool refreshing influence nearly the
whole distance."

Angola is situated on the Lake Shore Railroad, about three-quarters of a
mile from Lake Erie. Here Mr. J. S. Parker, formerly of Malone, New
York, called upon him on business connected with the lecture, and in the
course of conversation, Captain Glazier discovered that his visitor knew
many of his old neighbors and acquaintances in Northern New York. The
events of his early years along the banks of the Oswegatchie were
discussed with much interest, and it doubtless formed a pleasing episode
of his journey. The lecture was delivered with satisfactory results, at
the regular hour, in a building that had once been a church, but was now
used as the Town Hall, and the introduction made by Leroy S. Oatman.

Dunkirk was reached June twenty-fifth, by way of the Buffalo Road. The
beautiful lake, which had been very near the road from Buffalo to
Angola, was now seldom seen, but the haying season had commenced, and
the captain's love of nature was now gratified by the lively spectacle
of the mowers and hay-makers--men, women and children at work in the
fields as he rode past. Putting up at the Eastern Hotel, he was ready
to deliver his lecture in the evening, and at Columbus Hall was
introduced to a respectable audience by the Rev. J. A. Kummer, pastor of
the Methodist church of Dunkirk. The following day being Sunday, he
attended divine service at the Rev. Mr. Kummer's church.

Before leaving Dunkirk the following testimonial was handed him:

                                                     Dunkirk, New York,
                                                     _June 25th, 1876._

     Captain Glazier:

     We desire to express to you our warm appreciation of your highly
     instructive and most entertaining lecture delivered here this
     evening. We trust success beyond your most sanguine expectations
     will attend you in your journey; and we cheerfully recommend you
     and your lecture to any and all whom our endorsement might


                                                 J. M. McWharf, M. D.,
                                                 J. A. Kummer, _Pastor_,
                                                 P. B. Morrell

Dunkirk, with its pleasant associations, was left June twenty-seventh,
and, continuing along the Buffalo Road, our cavalier stopped for dinner
at Silver Creek. Here he found the farmers of Chautauqua County largely
engaged in the cultivation of fruit and grain. The flourishing vineyards
near Fredonia had also arrested his attention, giving promise of the
extensive cultivation of the grape which has since marked this locality.
At Westfield he lectured in the Metropolitan Hall, being introduced by
George Wilson, Esq., and on the following day passed through a fine
fruit and grain region, stopping at a village named State Line for
dinner. Here he had some trouble in finding the landlord of the
caravansary, who, combining the business of "mine host" with that of a
farmer, was at the time some distance away, industriously employed at
hoeing corn.

At five o'clock P. M., Captain Glazier reached the flourishing little
town of North East, where he found a large crowd of people in front of
the Haynes House awaiting his arrival. He was taken by surprise when
told that he had been announced to deliver a lecture there that evening.
The band of the place escorted him to the "Hall," and, taking position
in front of the audience, played "Hail Columbia" before, and "The Sword
of Bunker Hill" after the lecture. This was a voluntary and quite an
unexpected compliment to Captain Glazier, who was sensibly affected by
it. The "Hall" was so crowded that many were compelled to stand
throughout the lecture, and if applause is any evidence of the
satisfaction of the applauders, he might fairly consider his effort to
entertain the "North Easters" a decided success. Captain Bronson Orton
introduced him to this audience, a gentleman who, although now in the
peaceful practice of the law, had been with Sherman's army in its
memorable march through Georgia.

Arrived at Erie, Pennsylvania, June twenty-ninth, Captain Glazier was
cordially welcomed by Colonel F. H. Ellsworth, proprietor of the Reed
House, who showed him many attentions while his guest. The lecture was
delivered to a full house at the Academy of Music, the introduction
being made by Hon. C. B. Carter.

At Swanville he became the guest of John Jacob Swan, an old and worthy
resident, after whom the village had been named. Everything was done for
his comfort by the Swan family, of which we find some pleasant
reminiscences noted in the Journal. Mr. Swan's son, Andrew, was a
lieutenant-colonel of cavalry during the civil war, and the patriarch
himself had participated in the war of 1812. "Mr. Swan was one of the
first settlers in Erie County," Captain Glazier notes, "and although
more than fifty years have passed, this old veteran still remembers
distinctly, and describes minutely, the scenes and events of his former
life. He saw the first steamer launched on Lake Erie, and says it was
regarded by the Indians as an evil omen: they styled it 'the devil's
canoe,' were greatly frightened, and ran from the lake.... Took a stroll
with Mr. Swan over his farm. He found great pleasure in showing me the
wonderful changes which a half century has wrought upon his estate."

Taking leave of this amiable family, he left for Girard, and found P. J.
Farrington, his advance agent, awaiting him at the Central House. At the
lecture in the evening he was introduced by Jacob Bender, Esq., a brass
band adding to the entertainment, and afterwards serenading him at his
hotel. The Girard _Cosmopolite_ came out on the next morning with the
following notice of the lecture:

     "Captain Willard Glazier, the soldier-author and lecturer, now on a
     journey on horseback from Boston to San Francisco, reached this
     place on Saturday evening, and delivered his lecture, 'Echoes from
     the Revolution,' to a highly respectable audience, at Philharmonic
     Hall. He speaks with a soldier's enthusiasm of those stirring times
     when our forefathers 'walked through a baptism of blood and of
     fire, their only purpose liberty; their only incentive duty; their
     only pride their country; and their only ambition victory.' He
     traces, in a very eloquent manner, the movements of the
     Revolutionary heroes from that day in April, 1775, when the
     undisciplined militia at Concord put the red-coats to flight and
     forced them to retire to their intrenchments at Boston, onward to
     the surrender of Cornwallis to Washington.... We are credibly
     informed that one of the chief objects of Captain Glazier's journey
     is to make observations and collect material for another book,
     which will no doubt be a very interesting one to read, and will add
     still greater honors to one who, though still a young man, has
     already acquired an enviable reputation as an author. After a very
     cordial shake of the hand from some comrades and citizens, the
     captain left the Central Hotel on his fine black horse, 'Paul
     Revere,' which has brought him safely thus far from Boston since
     the ninth of May, and which he proposes to ride to the Golden Gate
     by the first of December next."

July third found Captain Glazier at Ashtabula, Ohio. The people
everywhere, during his ride from Girard, were engaged in preparations
for the celebration on the following day of the glorious Centennial
Fourth. It was his intention to have lectured at Ashtabula, but he was
counselled not to do so, as almost every man and woman in the place was
upon some committee preparing for the next day's festivities, and he
would consequently get but a scant audience. He therefore concluded not
to deliver his lecture here, but to push forward on his journey.

Under date July fourth, he writes:

     "Mounted 'Paul' at nine o'clock this morning in front of the Fisk
     House, Ashtabula. Thousands upon thousands of country people were
     pouring into the town as I rode out. The booming of cannon, blowing
     of engine whistles, ringing of bells, and the discharge of
     fire-arms of every variety and calibre, welcomed the dawn of the
     One Hundredth anniversary of American Independence."

Willard Glazier suffered no occasion to pass that presented a chance of
picking up useful information on topics connected with the localities he
rode through--their population, industries, features of the country,
prominent men, etc., his capacity for absorbing such knowledge being
large, and the intention of utilizing it in the interest of the public
having been his chief motive in undertaking the adventurous journey. The
large amount of information thus collected has been reduced to system,
and will, we trust, be shortly in the hands of the publisher.

Cleveland--the "Forest City"--was his next destination, and on July
sixth he registered at the Forest City House, and delivered his lecture
in the evening at Garrett's Hall. He was introduced by Major E. M.
Hessler, of the "Grand Army of the Republic," who, in the name of many
citizens and in testimony of their respect for the soldier, author, and
lecturer, proposed a banquet on the following day. This, however, was
modestly and respectfully declined. The result of the lecture is shown
in the following letter:

                                               National Soldiers' Home,
                                       Dayton, Ohio, _July 27th, 1876_.

     Captain Willard Glazier:

     My dear Comrade: We have received through Major E. M. Hessler your
     generous donation to aid in erecting the Soldiers' Monument at the
     "Home." You have the hearty thanks of three thousand disabled
     veterans now on our rolls; and a cordial invitation to visit us
     whenever it is your pleasure to do so. Again we thank you. Please
     find receipt from our treasurer,

                                              Very respectfully,
                                                     William Earnshaw,
                           President, Historical and Monumental Society.

While in Cleveland the terrible news of the massacre of General Custer
by the Indians reached Captain Glazier, who, as a cavalry officer, had
seen service with him in the late war, and felt for him that respect and
love which only a true soldier knows for a brave leader. The stunning
intelligence left a deep impression, and in due time he showed his
respect for the dead general by substantial aid rendered in the erection
of a monument to his memory.

The following letter was received before leaving the Forest City:

                                             Headquarters, Post No. 1,
                      "Grand Army of the Republic," Department of Ohio,
                                     Cleveland, O., _July 12th, 1876._

     Comrade: Through your unsolicited generosity I have the pleasure to
     acknowledge the receipt of the net proceeds of your lecture on
     "Echoes from the Revolution," delivered in our city July sixth,
     1876, and by your direction have forwarded the amount to Chaplain
     William Earnshaw, President of the "Soldiers' Home Monumental
     Fund," at Dayton, to assist in erecting a monument to the memory of
     the veterans, who by the fortunes of war await the long roll at the
     National Military Home: and may your reward be no less than the
     love and gratitude of our unfortunate comrades.

             By order of
                                    General James Barnett, Commanding.
       E. M. Hessler, Q. M.

Leaving Cleveland and the many friends who had flocked around him in
that hospitable city, offering encouragement in his undertaking, Glazier
proceeded on his route, accompanied a short distance on horseback by an
old scholar named Alexander Wilsey, whose affection for his teacher had
not diminished by years of separation. Keeping along the lake-shore all
day, and not a little tormented by the shoals of mosquitoes as the
evening advanced, he rode into Sandusky City, July thirteenth, and
delivered his lecture the same evening to a fair audience. He was
introduced in a humorous and effective speech by Captain Culver, Judge
of the Probate Court.

Fremont, the pleasant home of President Hayes, was visited, and then on
through Elmore to the flourishing city of Toledo, where he registered
at the Boody House, July seventeenth. Introduced by Dr. J. T. Woods, G.
A. R., he lectured at Lyceum Hall, to an interested audience, who
frequently signified their approval by applause.

Passing through Erie, Michigan, Captain Glazier reached Monroe, July
twenty-fourth, the committee of the Custer Monument Association
receiving him at the City Hall. Arrangements were made for the delivery
of a lecture in the interest of the fund for the erection of the
monument. This was of course most congenial to Glazier's feelings,
Custer being his _beau ideal_ of a soldier, and he therefore at once
placed himself in the hands of the committee, offering them the entire
proceeds of the lecture. The Monroe _Monitor_, of July twenty-sixth,
noticed the proposal thus:

     "The lecture announced to be given for the benefit of the Custer
     Monument Fund, on Monday evening at the City Hall, was postponed
     for various reasons until Thursday evening at the same place. On
     Monday evening several members of the association met Captain
     Glazier, and were most favorably impressed with him. They are
     convinced that he is thoroughly in earnest, and his proposition is
     a most liberal one. He offers to give the entire proceeds of his
     lectures to the association; and not only in this city but
     throughout the State, he generously offers to do the same thing.
     This is certainly deserving of the warm recognition of our own
     people at least, and we hope on Thursday evening to see the City
     Hall filled. Captain Glazier comes with the strongest endorsements
     from well-known gentlemen in the East, both as to his character as
     a gentleman and a soldier, and his ability as a speaker and writer.
     The captain served under the late General Custer in the cavalry,
     and has something to say regarding his personal knowledge of the
     dead hero...."

The lecture was duly delivered, and the following certificate placed in
his hands:

                                  Custer National Monument Association,
                                    Monroe, Mich., _July 28th, 1876_.

     This is to certify that the proceeds of the lecture by Captain
     Willard Glazier in this city on Thursday evening, July 27th, 1876,
     have been paid into the treasury of this association; for which the
     members hereby tender him their sincere thanks.

                                                          T. E. Wing,

The following also is evidence of the benevolent aims of Captain Glazier
during his journey in the saddle:

                                  Custer National Monument Association,
                                    Monroe, Mich., _July 28th, 1876_.
     _To Auxiliary Societies and Associations of the
       Custer Monument Association:_

     Captain Willard Glazier having kindly and generously volunteered to
     devote the proceeds of his lectures through Michigan to the fund
     being raised by this Association for the erection of a monument to
     the memory of the late General George A. Custer, he has made
     arrangements to remit to our treasurer here the money derived from
     such lectures, and we bespeak for him your earnest endeavors in aid
     of our common, glorious cause. Respectfully,

                                                        J. M. Bulkley,

Before leaving Monroe, Glazier called upon Mr. E. J. Custer, the father
of the deceased general, whom he represents as nearly crushed by the
melancholy news of his son's tragic death. The worthy old gentleman was
very courteous, and showed him some photographs and an oil-portrait of
the late general, together with some relics from the Indian country
which the general had sent him at different times. Mr. Custer seemed
greatly interested in the journey on horseback, and asked the captain
many questions concerning his plans for crossing the plains. Finally, he
accompanied Captain Glazier as far as Strong's Hotel, and witnessed his
start from Monroe. During his stay in Monroe our soldier-author was
introduced to several prominent gentlemen of the place, and plans were
discussed for availing themselves of his proffered services in behalf of
the monument. The lecture was a financial success, and the whole of the
proceeds were turned over to the Treasurer, Judge T. E. Wing. "I gave
them all, although they generously offered to divide with me," is the
simple entry in his journal under date July twenty-eighth.

Passing through Rockwood, Trenton, Wyandotte, and Ecorse, all in the
State of Michigan, he reached Detroit on the thirty-first of July, and
was met by General William A. Throop at the Russell House, as one of a
committee appointed to confer with him on the subject of his lecture. At
the usual hour the lecture was delivered to a full house at Saint
Andrew's Hall, General L. S. Trowbridge introducing the lecturer to the
audience in very complimentary terms.

The next morning the proceeds were turned over to the monument fund as
indicated in the following letter to the treasurer, and its
acknowledgment by the local committee.

                                                     Detroit, Michigan,
                                                   _August 1st, 1876_.

     T. E. Wing, Esq., Treasurer, Custer National Monument Association:

    Dear Sir: I send you through General L. S. Trowbridge of this city
    the net proceeds of my lecture delivered at St. Andrew's Hall last
    night, the same to be applied to the fund of the Custer National
    Monument Association, for the erection of a monument to the memory
    of the late General Custer at Monroe. I hope and expect to be able
    to send you much larger contributions as soon as the lecture season
    is fairly open. My horse is still in excellent condition, and I
    anticipate a delightful and successful ride across the Peninsular
    State. Promising to write you again from Ypsilanti, I am

                                           Ever truly yours,
                                                      Willard Glazier.

                                                     Detroit, Michigan,
                                                   _August 1st, 1876._

     Received of Captain Willard Glazier, forty dollars, for the benefit
     of the Custer Monument Association, as the proceeds of his lecture
     at Detroit on the evening of July 31st, 1876, in aid of such

                                        [Signed] L. S. Trowbridge,
                                                   William A. Throop,

While in Detroit, Captain Glazier visited all the public buildings and
places of note, enjoying the courtesies and hospitality of many of its
leading citizens; and, encouraged by the success he had met with so far
in contributing to the Custer Monument Fund, he determined to devote the
net proceeds of all his lectures delivered between Detroit and Chicago
to the same object.

Leaving Detroit and passing through Inkster, he reached Ypsilanti
through torrents of rain, and the same evening--August fifth--received
calls at the Hawkins House from a large number of patriotic gentlemen
interested in the Custer monument. The lecture was duly delivered in
Union Hall and the proceeds handed over to the fund.

Arrived at Jackson, "a most enterprising little city," as Captain
Glazier notes, August ninth, and delivered his lecture in the evening at
Bronson Hall, to a very full house. The Jackson _Citizen_ said on the
following morning:

     "Captain Willard Glazier lectured last evening in the interest of
     the Custer Monument Fund. His lecture was a good historical review
     delivered with graceful rhetoric and at times real eloquence. The
     captain is still in the city giving his horse--a noble Kentucky
     Black Hawk, whom he has ridden all the way from Boston, and whom he
     expects to carry him to San Francisco--a rest. He starts to-morrow
     morning for Battle-Creek, where he lectures on Saturday evening."

Through Parma, Albion, and on to Battle-Creek, which was reached August
twelfth. Lieutenant Eugene T. Freeman here took the rôle of host and
welcomed Captain Glazier to the city, introducing him to many admirers
and friends of the late General Custer. Arrangements were completed for
the lecture, which took place at the usual hour in Stuart's Hall before
a numerous and attentive audience--the introduction being made by
Lieutenant Freeman, and the proceeds applied to the monument fund. The
following day being Sunday the lieutenant's invitation was accepted to
accompany him to church, where an introduction to the pastor, Rev. Mr.
Palmer, and others, took place. In the afternoon Captain Glazier was
agreeably surprised by an invitation from Lieutenant Freeman to ride
with him in his carriage to the delightful summer resort of that
region--Goguac Lake; and in many other ways Lieutenant Freeman
manifested a very friendly and cordial feeling for him.

Contrary to Captain Glazier's intention on setting out from Boston he
yielded to invitations to lecture at Albion and Marshall, and, in the
interest of the Custer Monument, also determined to visit South Bend,
Indiana; and Grand Rapids, Michigan; which cities were not included in
the route he had originally marked out for himself.

At Kalamazoo he delivered his lecture to a crowded house, being
introduced by Major Judson, late of General Custer's staff. Nearing
Comstock, Captain Glazier met with a serious adventure. His horse "Paul"
becoming frightened by the approach of a train on the Michigan Central
Railway, dashed over the embankment into the Kalamazoo River--a fall of
nearly forty feet, and the captain came very near losing his life. No
bones were broken, however, the result being happily confined to a
considerable ducking and a no less considerable scare; "Paul" having
fared as ill as his master.

The following letters and press notices will show the nature of the
reception our soldier-author met with in Kalamazoo, Grand Rapids and
South Bend, respectively:

                                                   Kalamazoo, Michigan,
                                                   _August 18th, 1876_.

     J. M. Bulkley, Esq.,
       Secretary C. N. M. Association,
              Monroe, Michigan.

     Dear Sir:--I have the pleasure of transmitting to Judge Wing,
     through Major R. F. Judson, the net proceeds of my lecture
     delivered in this place on the evening of the sixteenth instant. I
     desire to accompany my gift with an acknowledgment of many
     courtesies extended by the press and band of this patriotic
     village. I resume my journey this afternoon and shall speak at
     Niles, South Bend, and Laporte before the close of the present
     week. Hoping that your brightest anticipations for the "Monument"
     may be most fully realized, I remain,

                         Always sincerely yours,

                                                     Willard Glazier.

                                                   Kalamazoo, Michigan,
                                                   _August 19th, 1876_.

     Received of Captain Willard Glazier the net proceeds of his lecture
     at this place, which sum is to be applied to the fund for the
     erection of a monument to the memory of the late General Custer, at
     Monroe City, Michigan.

     We take great pleasure in speaking of Captain Glazier in the
     highest terms, not only on account of the self-devotion he has
     manifested in a noble cause, but of his indomitable perseverance
     and energy. We trust he will, wherever he goes, receive the
     unanimous support of the citizens whom he addresses.

                                                    F. W. Curtenius,
                                          Late Colonel U. S. Volunteers.

     I take great pleasure in fully endorsing the above and recommending
     to public confidence and support, Captain Willard Glazier, in his
     efforts in behalf of the Custer Monument Association.

                                                        R. F. Judson,
                                            Late aide to General Custer.

From the South Bend _Herald_:

     "As heretofore announced in these columns, Captain Glazier
     delivered his lecture 'Echoes from the Revolution' at the Academy
     of Music last evening. Promptly at eight o'clock, the lecturer,
     with Mr. J. F. Creed, appeared on the platform. Mr. Creed, in
     introducing the lecturer, stated the object of the lecture to be in
     aid of the Custer Monument Association of Monroe, Michigan. He also
     read several letters introducing Captain Glazier to the public,
     from well-known citizens of Michigan, and acknowledging receipts of
     the proceeds of the lectures delivered in Detroit and Kalamazoo.
     The theme of the lecture afforded a fine field for the display of
     Captain Glazier's talents as a speaker. Possessing a fine
     imagination, good descriptive powers, and the real qualities of an
     orator, he could not fail to please the really intelligent audience
     which greeted him last evening. Probably one hour and a half were
     consumed in its delivery, but the interest and attention of the
     audience did not flag nor tire, and when the speaker took leave of
     his audience, he was greeted with several rounds of applause."

About this time his Boston friends were notified of his progress toward
the setting sun in the following paragraph of the Boston _Inquirer_:

     "Captain Willard Glazier, who undertook in May last to ride from
     this city to the Golden Gate on horseback, has reached Michigan,
     and has discoursed to large audiences at the various points along
     his route. The profits of his lecture at Cleveland, Ohio, were
     donated to the fund at Dayton, to assist in erecting a monument to
     the memory of the veterans who by the fortunes of war are destined
     to await the long roll-call at the National Military Home."

To return to his present point of departure, South Bend, Captain Glazier
having found his horse "Paul" suffering from the accident previously
recorded, and also from sore-back, had left him with a veterinary
surgeon at Michigan City for treatment, and sped on his way by rail to
Grand Rapids. Here he lectured with favorable results, having been
introduced by General Innes.

Said the Grand Rapids _Eagle_:

     "A very large audience gathered at Luce's Hall last night to hear
     Captain Willard Glazier. The speaker was earnest and impassioned,
     his lecture was delivered with a force and eloquence that pleased
     his hearers, and all who were in the hall went away glad that they
     had been there, and ready to add to the praises that have been
     bestowed on Captain Glazier as a soldier, author, and orator."

Decatur, Dowagiac, Paw-Paw, Niles, and Buchanan, were all reached by
railway, for the purpose of giving "Paul" a rest and an opportunity of
recovering from his sore back. At Decatur, Glazier met an old comrade of
the "Harris Light," named George L. Darby, with whom a pleasant exchange
of reminiscences took place, and a cordial intercourse was renewed.
"Thirteen years," says Captain Glazier in his Journal, "have slipped
away, since the day of our capture at New Baltimore, which led him to
Belle Isle, and me to Libby Prison.... Darby called this afternoon with
fishing tackle, and proposed that we should go out to 'Lake of the
Woods,' a small lake not far from the village, and try our luck with
hook and line. We went, and a delightful boat-ride followed, but in the
matter of the fish which we tried to lure with tempting pieces of fresh
meat, they are still enjoying their native freedom." We suspect the
friends were too intent on fighting their battles o'er again to give due
attention to their occupation.

The lecture here was delivered September fourth to a crowded house, over
two hundred persons being compelled to stand for want of room to seat
them. Captain Glazier was accompanied to the platform by several leading
citizens, among whom were Hon. Ransom Nutting, Rev. Mr. Hoyt, Professor
S. G. Burked and Albert W. Rogers, Esq., Mr. Nutting presenting him to
the audience. The following will show the opinion entertained of the

                                                     Decatur, Michigan,
                                                 _September 4th, 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 endorsement 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.

Having lectured successfully at the several intermediate towns before
mentioned, Captain Glazier with "Paul" now directed his course to
Rolling Prairie, Indiana (a place romantic only in name), and thence to
Michigan City. From the latter point he journeyed by railway to Chicago,
arrangements having been made for the delivery of his lecture in that
city for the benefit of the monument fund. A very full house greeted him
at Farwell Hall. Major E. S. Weedon in introducing the lecturer alluded
in an eloquent and touching manner to the record of the gallant Custer.
The lecture throughout its delivery was much applauded by the audience,
who appeared greatly interested; and the proceeds reached a handsome

The following entry occurs in the Journal under date, Chicago, September
12th, 1876:

"I shall now push on to Omaha and Cheyenne as rapidly as possible, in
the hope of passing Sherman at the summit of the mountains before the
snow is too deep to interrupt my progress. There are nine steps in my
journey from Boston to San Francisco, namely, Albany, Buffalo, Toledo,
Chicago, Omaha, Cheyenne, Salt Lake City, Sacramento, and San Francisco.
I have now taken four of these nine steps, and shall undertake to pass
the five remaining points by the first of December."



  Returns to Michigan City.--Joliet.--Thomas Babcock.--Herbert
    Glazier.--Ottawa.--La Salle.--Colonel Stevens.--Press
    Notice.--Taken for a highwayman.--Milan.--Davenport.--Press
    Notice.--Iowa City.--Des Moines.--Press Notice.--Attacked by
    prairie wolves.--Council Bluffs.--Omaha.

Captain Glazier having succeeded so far in his novel and adventurous
undertaking, felt little concern as to his ability to accomplish the
entire journey from ocean to ocean. He had ridden but one horse--his
faithful "Paul," thus far, and having returned to Michigan City, found
him quite recovered and ready to pursue the journey. On the sixteenth of
September he took his departure from the latter city, and after riding a
distance of twenty-eight miles, rested for the night at Hobart, Indiana.

On the seventeenth he crossed the boundary between Indiana and Illinois.
On Grand Prairie, after dark, his ears were made familiar with the
peculiar howl of the prairie wolf, numbers of which followed in his
track for a distance of two or three miles. Not having seen any of these
animals before, he supposed them at first to be dogs, until advised by
"Paul's" manner and movements that they were animals less friendly to
his equine companion.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Glazier rode into Joliet, and met Mr.
Thomas Babcock, his advance agent, on Jefferson Street. Preparations had
been made here for the delivery of the lecture, and several prominent
citizens called upon him, having heard of his projected visit to the
place. His brother Herbert, who was also acting in the capacity of
advance agent, had departed to Ottawa to prepare for a lecture there on
the twentieth. While at Joliet, Captain Glazier stopped at the Robertson
House, the proprietor of which, Mr. Conklin, sent word through the
agent, that the captain was to consider himself his guest.

At the suggestion of Mr. Conklin, Captain Glazier on leaving Joliet,
rode his horse along the tow-path of the Michigan Canal, and borrowing a
hook and line from a gentleman who was fishing, caught twenty-three
perch in less than half an hour, the canal seeming literally alive with
this fish.

Leaving Morris, in Grundy County, Illinois, his journey lay along the
north bank of the Illinois River, and after encountering a very severe
rain storm, he reached Ottawa, September twentieth, stopping at the
Clifton House. From the proprietors of this hotel he received many
courtesies. The lecture, as arranged, was delivered in the evening with
the usual satisfactory results.

On leaving Ottawa, the captain followed the telegraph poles along the
Illinois River, passing a large number of very fine corn-fields, and
overtaking an emigrant train on its journey from Ohio to Western
Nebraska. La Salle was reached at six o'clock on the evening of the
twenty-first. Here he enjoyed the society and hospitality of Colonel R.
C. Stevens, and was introduced to a number of other prominent gentlemen,
who were attracted to him by their interest in the projected monument to
General Custer. The lecture was delivered at Opera Hall, Colonel Stevens
making the introduction. The following letter may be presented here to
show the estimation in which Captain Glazier continued to be held as he
progressed in his journey westward:

                                                  La Salle, Illinois,
                                                _September 25th, 1876_.

     To Captain Willard Glazier: I take pleasure in expressing to you on
     behalf of many of our citizens, the gratification afforded our
     people who listened to your instructive and entertaining lecture
     given at Opera Hall on Saturday evening. While in conversation with
     several of our prominent citizens--among them, W. A. Work,
     superintendent of our public schools; A. J. O'Connor, clerk of the
     City Court; W. T. Mason, Esq., and others; all of whom were present
     and heard your lecture--I was requested to write you and tender
     their hearty thanks for the entertainment, and their good wishes
     for your success in your ride across the continent. Should you ever
     again visit our city, you can rest assured you will be most
     cordially received.

               Very truly yours,
                                                     R. C. Stevens,
                                         Late Colonel U. S. Volunteers.

The La Salle _County Press_ noticed the lecturer in the following terms:

     "We have not often met with a more agreeable and pleasant gentleman
     than Captain Willard Glazier, who entertained a very respectable
     number of our citizens at Opera Hall on Saturday evening by
     delivering a lecture on 'Echoes from the Revolution.' The captain
     has a fine voice and his manner of delivery is decidedly
     interesting, while his language is eloquent and fascinating. His
     description of the battles of the Revolution, and the heroes who
     took part in them, from the engagement on the little green at
     Lexington down to the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, was
     grand indeed, and was received with frequent and enthusiastic
     applause. In conclusion he referred in an eloquent and touching
     manner to the 'Boys in Blue' who took part in the late war for the
     Union, and all retired from the hall feeling that the evening had
     been spent in an agreeable and profitable manner.

     "Captain Glazier served under Generals Kilpatrick and Custer during
     the late war, since which time he has devoted much labor to
     writing, and is now making the attempt to cross the continent from
     Boston to San Francisco on horseback, for the purpose of collecting
     material for another work. He left Boston in the early part of May,
     and will endeavor to reach the Sacramento Valley before the fall of
     the deep snow. His horse, 'Paul Revere,' is a magnificent animal,
     black as a raven, with the exception of four white feet. He was
     bred in Kentucky, of Black Hawk stock, has turned a mile in 2.33,
     but owing to his inclination to run away on certain occasions, was
     not considered a safe horse for the track. The captain, however,
     has broke him to the saddle, and also convinced him that running
     away is foolish business; consequently he and the captain have
     become fast friends, and with 'Paul' for his only companion, the
     gallant cavalryman proposes to cross the continent. Success attend

Having heard at La Salle that he would find no difficulty in securing a
night's lodging at a village named Hollowayville, Captain Glazier pushed
on for that point, but on applying at the only place of accommodation
for travellers, was looked upon suspiciously by the German host and his
_frau_, who politely intimated their belief that he was either a
highwayman or a horse-thief! These latter gentry had for some time
infested that section of Illinois, and Glazier inferred from the manner
of the people that they more than half suspected him to be one of the
James or Younger brothers, whose exploits they had probably read of.

Turning his back on the "Grand Pacific Hotel," he at length succeeded by
dint of much perseverance, in lodging himself and "Paul" at a farm-house
for the night, but not before he had fully satisfied the worthy farmer
and his wife that he had no evil designs in desiring to spend the night
with them.

On the following day, September twenty-fifth, the captain rode through a
rich farming country, replete with "corn-fields, fine stock and oceans
of fruit."

Passed through Wyanet, Annawan, and across the prairie--smiling
corn-fields and ripe orchards occasionally relieving the seemingly
interminable ocean of grass--and arrived at Milan, Illinois, on the
evening of the twenty-seventh, remaining for the night.

Here he met a Mr. Pullman, an old and intelligent miner who had recently
arrived from the Pacific coast, from whom he obtained valuable
information concerning the country between Omaha and Sacramento. He also
found a number of congenial spirits at Milan, chiefly New Yorkers, who
had spent some years in the Far West, and their conversation partook of
a practical nature bearing on his journey.

Leaving Milan on the following day, he crossed the Government Bridge,
which unites Rock Island with the fine city of Davenport, Iowa, and
registered at the Burtis House--the rider and his horse continuing in
the best of health.

The lecture at Davenport was delivered at the usual hour at Moore's Hall
to a very large and applauding audience, General Sanders presenting him.
The brass band of the place volunteered their services, and appeared in
full uniform. The Davenport _Gazette_ of October fourth said:

     "The lecture of Captain Willard Glazier at Moore's Hall last
     evening was attended by a large and appreciative audience. The
     captain was introduced by our worthy fellow-citizen, General
     Sanders, who spoke of the lecturer's career as a soldier and an
     author, and said he was _en route_ for the Pacific coast on
     horseback, and lecturing for the benefit of the Custer Monument

The following notice is taken from the _Democrat_ of the same city:

     "We had the pleasure of meeting Captain Glazier this morning, who
     arrived here on horseback from La Salle on Saturday evening. He is
     making the journey from Boston to San Francisco on horseback, and
     alone, for the purpose of seeing the country, studying the people,
     and gathering materials for a new work he is engaged upon. Captain
     Glazier is well known to fame as a writer, having published several
     valuable works, among them a war-record entitled, 'Capture,
     Prison-Pen and Escape.'

     "At the breaking out of the war, Willard Glazier, then a mere
     youth, entered the Harris Light Cavalry, under Colonel Judson
     Kilpatrick, and remained in the service until the close of the
     rebellion, his career being marked by many adventures and
     hair-breadth escapes. His feat of riding on horseback across the
     continent, unattended, to gather materials for a book, is certainly
     without a precedent, and shows a brave and intrepid spirit. His
     horse 'Paul' was an object of great curiosity and interest."

Leaving Davenport, our traveller passed through Moscow and reached Iowa
City October fifth. The weather was now becoming very cold, and he found
it necessary to dismount occasionally and walk some warmth into his

Registering at the St. James Hotel, Iowa City, Captain Glazier lectured
in the evening to a very full house, a profusion of cheers greeting him
on his arrival upon the platform, whither he was escorted by George B.
Edmunds, Esq.

Continuing his journey through Tiffin and Brooklyn to Kellogg, all in
the State of Iowa, he witnessed, he says, some of the finest landscapes
and grandest farms he had yet encountered during his journey. He rode
into Colfax, October twelfth, and Des Moines on the following day.

[Illustration: A Night Among Wolves.]

"I have not seen a brighter or more stirring city in my line of march
than Des Moines," writes Captain Glazier in his Journal. He wandered
over the city in company with two or three of the leading citizens,
admiring its numerous fine buildings and the evidences of its rapid
progress; and the next day the Des Moines _Leader_ came out with the
following notice of his visit:

     "Captain Willard Glazier, the horseback traveler across the
     continent, took in the Exposition on Saturday evening with intense
     gratification. He says he has seen no place, on his route from
     Boston, more promising than Des Moines. Among the calls he received
     at the Jones House was one from Captain Conrad, a prominent
     attorney from Missouri, and now settled in his profession in this
     city, who was a fellow-captive with Captain Glazier in Libby Prison
     during the rebellion. He continued his journey westward yesterday,
     with the best wishes of the friends he has made during his short
     stay here."

Captain Glazier speaks very highly of the extremely courteous treatment
he received while at Des Moines.

Adel, and Dale City, and Minden were passed, and arriving at Neola, we
find the following entry in the journal: "Weather most disagreeable. A
drizzling rain made my ride to this place decidedly gloomy. My journey
to-day, as usual, since entering Iowa, has been over the boundless,
never-ending prairie. I have never in my life beheld a grander sight
than this afternoon, when I reached the summit of an immense tableland
between Avoca and Minden."

Wishing to reach Anita before halting for the night, he ventured to
continue on the road after dark, although for some time before sunset he
had been unable to see a farm-house or even a tree as far as the eye
could reach. Giving "Paul" the rein, he followed a blind road, after
crossing a sluice-way, which ultimately led them to a haystack on the
prairie, where the captain decided to spend the night. A pack of prairie
wolves, or coyotes, soon came upon the scene, several of which he shot,
but he was shortly after reinforced by a friendly dog, who came to his
rescue and kept the coyotes at bay for the remainder of the night. In
the morning at daybreak he was glad enough to say adieu to the haystack
where he had passed one of the most unpleasant nights of his journey.

It may here be mentioned that the _coyote_ partakes of the natures of
the dog and the wolf, and is less dangerous to encounter in the summer
than in the winter, which is a characteristic of its wolfish nature. In
the winter, when food is scarce, these animals will attack man, but if a
bold resistance is offered, they speedily decamp.

Hastening forward on his journey through various small and more or less
enterprising cities of the prairie, our traveler reached Council Bluffs
at eight o'clock in the evening of October twentieth. This promising
city is located three miles east from the Missouri River, and contains
an enterprising population of some 20,000; its history dating from 1804.
The locality is surrounded by high bluffs, and hence the name given to
the city.

Striking the Missouri opposite Omaha, our horseman found he would be
compelled to ride up the bank of the river and cross by ferry to the
northern section of the city. On reaching the boat, "Paul" declined to
embark, but with some encouragement and assistance he was at length made
to understand that when rivers cannot be bridged or forded, they can
sometimes be ferried, and so yielded to necessity.

Omaha is almost equidistant between the Atlantic and Pacific, and has
sprung up, flourished and waxed great in the twinkling of an eye. It is
now the grand gateway through which the western tide of travel and
emigration is passing. The first house was erected here in 1853, and the
population now numbers in the neighborhood of 30,000. Omaha can boast
of as fine business blocks, hotels, school-buildings and churches as can
be found in many older and more pretentious cities in the East. There
are also numerous elegant private residences, with grounds beautifully
ornamented with trees and shrubbery, which sufficiently attest the solid
prosperity of Omaha's business men.

A story is told of the postmaster of Omaha which illustrates the changes
made during the past few years. Mr. Jones, one of the first pioneers,
was appointed to the office of postmaster in the autumn of 1854. At that
time there was no office, while letters were rarities. The few letters
that did come were kept by the postmaster in the crown of his hat till
he met their owners. Only a few years have elapsed since this primitive
state of things, and the post-office of Omaha has expanded from a hat
into a handsome stone building, worth $350,000, in which some twenty
clerks find full employment.

Hearing of the impossibility of riding his valuable horse across the
Alkali Plains, he resolved to leave him at Omaha until his return from
San Francisco, and to continue his journey on a mustang. In these plains
the soil for two or three feet seems saturated with soda, and so poisons
the water that if drunk by man or beast, after a fall of rain, is sure
to be fatal. "Paul" was therefore turned over by his master to the care
of G. W. Homan, proprietor of the Omaha Livery Stable; and a good
serviceable mustang purchased of a Pawnee Indian, to replace him.



  Captain Glazier as a horseman.--Cheyenne.--Two herders.--Captured
    by Indians.--Torture and death of a herder.--Escape.--Ogden.--
    Letter to Major Hessler.--Kelton.--Terrace.--Wells.--Halleck.--
    Elko.--Palisade.--Argenta.--Battle Mountain.--Golconda.--
    Humboldt.--"The majesty of the law."--Lovelock's.--White
    Brighton.--Stockton.--SAN FRANCISCO.

Having made several friends in Omaha, and obtained all the information
within his reach concerning the remaining half of the journey, Captain
Glazier mounted his mustang and proceeded on his route across the State
of Nebraska. Over the great plains that lie between the Missouri River
and the mountains, his nerve as a horseman was most thoroughly tested,
and not less so, the mettle of his mustang, which carried him a distance
of five hundred and twenty-two miles in six days. The approach of winter
suggested the importance of reaching his destination at the earliest
possible date; therefore on riding into Cheyenne October twenty-eighth,
he lost no time in arranging to continue his journey.

The weather now became intensely cold, as he neared the highest point in
his line of march. Since leaving Omaha, the ascent had been gradual but
continuous, and the point now reached was eight thousand feet above the

Cheyenne, the "Magic City of the Plains," about five hundred and twenty
miles west of Omaha, stands at an elevation of six thousand feet above
the level of the sea, and is perhaps the most progressive city west of
Chicago. It is the capital of Wyoming Territory, the county-seat of
Laramie County, and is the largest town between Omaha and Salt Lake
City. The gold discoveries in the Black Hills of Dakota added greatly to
its prosperity. In proportion to its population, Cheyenne has more
elegant and substantial business houses than most any other western
city. This is a wonderful change from a place known the world over by
its fearful sobriquet of "Hell on Wheels." Churches have risen where
gamblers once reigned, and many other edifices for religious and
educational purposes have been erected. Cheyenne is the trading-post for
the thousands of ranchemen and stock-raisers of the plains at the base
of the Black Hills, and like all other frontier cities, has a history.
It was once a very fast town, and it is not very slow now.

On leaving Cheyenne he was accompanied by two herders, who were on their
way to Salt Lake City with a few mustangs and ponies. It was the custom
of Captain Glazier to have company in his rides through this wild region
whenever he could do so, and having made the acquaintance of these men
in the city, it was arranged that they should journey together as far as
their respective routes led them. The men were of the usual stamp of
herders, rough in exterior and plain of speech, but apparently worthy of
trust. The captain was not wanting in discernment, and his cordial
manner won their confidence.

Sherman having afforded them a night's shelter and refreshment, their
course lay in the direction of the Skull Rocks, a huge mass of granite
on the Great Laramie Plains, and so called from the resemblance of the
rocks to human skulls.

The Skull Rocks being in front of them at no great distance, the
conversation of the party turned upon their peculiar configuration, and
opinions were advanced by each of a more or less intelligent character;
the herders insisting on the probability of their having plenty of gold
in them. Suddenly, over a slight elevation in the land, appeared a body
of Indians, in number about thirteen or fourteen. Glazier and his
companions were not at first surprised, as Indians are often found on
these plains--some friendly and some hostile--but mostly those of the
friendly tribes. The Indians now advancing upon them were clearly not on
a friendly errand, and were pronounced by the herders to be a detachment
of the Arrapahoes. They were decked in their war-paint, and on seeing
the white men immediately raised their war-shout, which, as travellers
on the plains are aware, always indicates an intention to attack.

The herders, knowing that they were in the presence of an enemy who
would speedily relieve them of their merchandise, made conciliatory
signs, by raising their hands, a signal which is equivalent to a flag of
truce, and is so understood on the plains. The signal of truce was,
however, ignored by the red-skins, who continued to advance at a rapid
pace, gradually forming a circle around Glazier and his companions. This
is the usual Indian form of attack. The circle is kept constantly in
rapid motion, the Indians concentrating their fire upon a stationary
object in the centre of the circle, while they render themselves a
constantly shifting target, and are thus comparatively safe from the
fire of the centre.

[Illustration: Captain Glazier Captured By Indians Near Skull
Rocks, Wyoming Territory.]

Riding around, and firing at intervals of a minute or two at Glazier and
his companions, the latter did their best to defend themselves, and
fired in return upon their cowardly assailants, who showed no desire for
a parley. The firing from the centre was made over the backs of the
ponies and mustangs, who in such emergencies are made to do duty as a
breastwork. The circle of red-skins gradually lessened in diameter, as
the firing on both sides continued, when a shot from the carbine of the
Mexican herder killed one of the Indians.

The circle continued to grow less, until the Indians in a mass rushed on
the three whites, disarmed them, secured them to each other with thongs
at the wrists, and appropriated as their own the mustangs and ponies,
which had been their primary object.

Before yielding, Captain Glazier and his little squad had nearly
exhausted their ammunition, and felt that further resistance was not
only useless, but would certainly cost them their lives. Without loss of
time, the prisoners were compelled to mount, and the entire party--less
one Indian killed--started off in a northerly direction.

Ignorant of their destination, the herders expressed their belief that
they would in a few days find themselves in the presence of Sitting
Bull, when their fate would be decided. They continued to ride at a full
trot till about ten o'clock, when the whole party dismounted and camped
for the night. A fire was speedily built, and some antelope beef
partially roasted for their supper, of which the prisoners also

The supper over, an animated conversation ensued among the Indians,
while sundry furtive glances were cast in the direction of the Mexican
who had killed one of their party during the attack in the morning. For
a time they shouted and violently gesticulated, while one of them was
observed driving a thick pole into the ground, at about fifty yards from
the fire, around which the party and the prisoners squatted. Presently,
at a sign from one of the Indians, supposed to be a chief named
"Dull-Knife," four of the red-skins seized the Mexican and forced him
towards the stake, where they stripped him to the skin, and then bound
him to it with thick cords. The whole party then, without further
ceremony, proceeded to torture the wretched man to death, as a
punishment for his presumption in killing one of their party while
defending himself from their murderous attack near the Skull Rocks. They
heated their arrow-shafts in the fire, and held them in contact with his
naked flesh, while others, at a distance of a few feet from their
victim, cast at him their sharp-pointed knives, which, penetrating the
body, remained embedded in the flesh, until he nearly died from the
agony. One of the party now advanced with a revolver, and shot him in
the head, thus ending his sufferings.

While the torture was proceeding, Captain Glazier and the remaining
herder lay on the ground bound together by thick cords, and could offer
no assistance to their tortured companion. The Mexican being dead, one
of the party removed his scalp and fastened it to his waist, after which
all sat down around the fire and seemed in high glee for the remainder
of the evening, for the most part shouting and speech-making.

Willard Glazier had never before witnessed a case of torture by the
Indians. It is true it was of a different character from that he and
many of his old comrades had endured in Southern prisons; but in one
respect was more merciful, as the sufferings of their victim were soon
ended, while his own and his comrades extended over many months; in the
one case the body was burnt and lacerated--in the other it was starved
and emaciated.

The horses of the party having been tethered by long ropes to stakes, to
enable them to graze during the night, a guard of two Indians was placed
in charge of the prisoners, who, still bound together at the wrists,
were made to lie down side by side, with an Indian on either hand. The
remainder of the red-skins then disposed themselves around the fire for

Glazier and his companion slept but little, but pretended to do so. They
were continually on the alert, and the guard, believing their prisoners
to be asleep, dozed, and at length reclined their bodies in a restless
sleep. About two o'clock in the morning, the two Indians were relieved
by two others, and all remained quiet in the camp. At the first streak
of dawn, the whole body leaped to their feet and were ready to resume
their march northward. Glazier and the herder were assigned each a
mustang, which they quietly mounted under the close scrutiny of their
guards, and the entire party started off at a brisk trot.

No attempt at escape having yet been made by the captives, the
surveillance became somewhat relaxed throughout the day, and the
attention of the party was given to their own proper business of
foraging. Wherever an opportunity offered, a momentary halt was called,
and one of the party creeping cautiously up to a stray pony, would take
possession by the simple process of mounting and riding him away. If
more than one animal was to be appropriated, an equal number of Indians
were detailed for the "duty," and each leaping on the mustang or pony he
had selected, would ride off as only these freebooters of the plains can
ride, with little prospect of being overtaken by the owners. Thus the
day passed; as a rule, half the number of the Indians remaining as a
guard to the prisoners, while the others foraged for food, and anything
that could be conveniently carried off. They were now skirting the Black
Hills, and Glazier had discovered by this time that they were making
their way to their general rendezvous, about one hundred miles from

As the second night overtook the captives, the process of the previous
night was repeated: they built their fire, cooked and ate their antelope
steaks, and then prostrated themselves around the fire for the night.
The captives were again bound together at the wrists, and lay between
their two guards. Our friend was, however, on the alert and wide awake,
though pretending to be asleep. Quietly he passed the fingers of one
hand over the cords that bound his other to his companion, and concluded
that with patience and vigilance the knot could be unfastened. While the
guards dozed and slept as on the preceding night, the eyes of the
prisoners stealthily sought the ponies and the arms.

The latter were always placed at the head of each sleeper, to be ready
for immediate use in case of a surprise. Captain Glazier and his
companion were fully convinced that any attempt to escape, if detected,
would be followed by immediate torture and death; but were,
nevertheless, resolved to make the effort. It was also known that if
they quietly accompanied the Indians to their rendezvous or
headquarters, they would be retained as hostages, probably for a long
period, and be subject at any time to be tortured should a fit of
vengeance seize their captors. They would not, however, make an attempt
to escape unless there appeared a moral certainty of its successful

The third day arrived, and at dawn, after partaking of the usual
breakfast of raw antelope or other game, they started again on their
march. They rode all day, with the usual stoppages for forage, and about
eight o'clock in the evening camped, supped, and lay down for the night,
as before, after assigning the usual night-guards to the prisoners, who
were again bound together.

Glazier, with the experience he had obtained in the South, and his
companion, with his intimate knowledge of the plains, kept themselves
constantly on the alert, prepared to take advantage of any opportunity
that offered to escape from their captors. They had each fixed his eye
on a pony in the herd. These animals were turned out to graze with their
saddles on, in order that they might be ready for instant use, if
required, in the night. The prisoners began snoring loudly under
pretence of being asleep, and at the same time the guards dozed and
slept at intervals, but were restless until about midnight, when they
both succumbed and were fast asleep.

Glazier now worked at the cord on his wrist, and found he could unfasten
it. While so doing, one of the Indians moved in his sleep, and
immediately all was still as death with the captives. At length the
time had arrived, the complicated knot was loosened, and the noose
slipped over his hand, which at once gave him and his partner liberty of
action. They knew where the arms lay, and each in the twinkling of an
eye secured a large navy revolver without disturbing the Indians. They
then simultaneously struck the two sleeping guards a powerful blow on
the head with the butt of their revolvers. The Indian struck by the
herder was nearly killed by the heavy blow, while Glazier's man was only
stunned. They then made for the ponies, leaped into the saddles, and
before any of the other Indians had shaken off their heavy slumber, had
struck out with all their might in the direction from which they had
come, and in the opposite one, therefore, to that in which the Indian
party were proceeding.

In a moment, however, the pursuit commenced in earnest; vociferations
implying vengeance of the direst character if they did not halt, were
flung through the darkness, which only had the effect of spurring the
fugitives to still greater speed. Glazier turned in his saddle and sent
a bullet among his pursuers in reply to their peremptory invitation to
him to halt. Another and another followed, and one Indian was
dismounted, but the darkness prevented his seeing if his other shots had
told. The Indians meanwhile, who had plenty of ammunition, were not slow
in returning the fire, but luckily without any worse result than to
increase the pace of the flying ponies.

[Illustration: Escape From The Arrapahoes.]

Away they tore at the top of their speed, and soon entered a cañon in
the mountain side. Only two or three of the Indians could now be seen in
pursuit, and the herder, saying it would be better for both if they
took different directions, at once struck off through a ravine to the
right, and left Glazier alone. One Indian was observed to follow, but
Glazier sent a bullet into the enemy's horse, and thus put a stop to
further pursuit. The Indian now leveled his carbine at Glazier and
dismounted him; and the latter's ammunition being exhausted, he ran off
towards a gulch, and leaping in, remained hidden until daylight. Finding
the coast clear in the morning, he emerged and at once set out walking
in a southwesterly direction, which eventually brought him to a
cattle-ranche, the owner of which supplied him with refreshment and a
fresh mustang. Again turning his face to the west he pursued his way,
covering the ground between himself and the Golden Gate at the rate of
sixty miles per day.

Ogden, in the northern extremity of Utah, about forty miles from Salt
Lake City, and five hundred and eleven from Cheyenne, was reached
November thirteenth, after hard riding and sundry stoppages at ranches
in quest of hospitality and information. No event occurred more exciting
than the shooting of a buffalo that crossed his path--this being the
third, beside sundry antelopes and several prairie wolves that had
fallen to his revolver, in the course of his journey since leaving
Omaha. On riding into Ogden, Captain Glazier was surprised to find it so
important a city. It forms the western terminus of the Union Pacific,
and the eastern terminus of the Central Pacific, railroads, and is the
second city in size and population in the Territory of Utah. Besides the
churches, a Mormon tabernacle was noticed, the population being largely
of the polygamic persuasion and yielding their allegiance to the prophet
of Salt Lake City.

One peculiarity of the towns in these western territories is the running
streams of water on each side of nearly every street, which are fed by
some mountain stream and from which water is taken to irrigate the
gardens and orchards adjoining the dwellings. Ogden has a bright future
before it. It is not only the terminus of the two great
trans-continental lines before mentioned, but is also the starting-point
of the Utah Central and Utah Northern railroads. Vast quantities of iron
ore can be obtained within five miles of the city, and in Ogden cañon
discoveries of silver have been made. Fruit-growing is very common in
the vicinity, and a large quantity of the best varieties grown in the
Territory are produced around Ogden. Utah apples, peaches and pears are
finer in size, color and flavor than any grown in the Eastern or Middle

November eighteenth, Captain Glazier heard from his advance agent, Mr.
Walter Montgomery, then in Sacramento, who was in ignorance of the
captain's adventure among the Indians after leaving Cheyenne, except
that certain startling rumors had reached him of the captain having been
killed by the Sioux. Mr. Montgomery had accordingly written to various
points for information of the missing horseman; and to allay the fears
of his numerous well-wishers, who were in doubt as to his safety,
Captain Glazier, after leaving Ogden, wrote the following summary of his
adventure, addressed to his friend, Major E. M. Hessler, of Cleveland,

                                                  Wild Cat Ranche,
                                              In Ogden Canyon, Utah,
                                             _November 18th, 1876_.

     Major E. M. Hessler,
            Cleveland, Ohio.

     Dear Sir and Comrade: I learn through my advance agent Mr.
     Montgomery, that a letter, manifesting some anxiety for my
     welfare, was recently addressed to you. I hasten to say that I am
     again in the saddle, and although for three days the guest of the
     Arrapahoes, I am still in the best of spirits, and with even more
     hair than when I left Cleveland. I should be pleased to give you a
     detailed account of my adventures among the red-skins, but have
     only time to tell you that I started from Cheyenne, October
     twenty-eighth, accompanying two herders who were on their way to
     Salt Lake City with a small drove of mustangs and Indian ponies. We
     were attacked on the thirty-first of the same month by a straggling
     band of Arrapahoes, near Skull Rocks, on the Laramie Plains. One
     Indian was killed, and my companions and myself were made prisoners
     after using up nearly all our ammunition in the effort to repulse
     our assailants. The herder whose fire killed the Indian was
     afterwards tied to a stake and most cruelly tortured to death.
     Bound to my remaining companion with thongs, we were on the
     following morning placed upon ponies and marched rapidly to the

     Breaking away from our captors on the night of November second by
     disabling two of our guards, we were followed some miles, firing
     and receiving the fire of the Indians as we galloped off on two of
     their ponies which we had appropriated. After being dismounted by a
     shot, and dismounting the Indian who had killed my horse, I finally
     eluded my pursuers by leaping into a gulch in the mountains, where
     I remained until daylight, when, finding no Indians in sight, I
     pursued my way on foot in a southwesterly direction, which brought
     me to a cattle-ranche late in the afternoon. Here I secured a fresh
     mustang, and once more turned my face toward the setting sun.

     My money and personal effects were of course promptly taken
     possession of by the Arrapahoes. I am now moving westward at an
     average of over sixty miles per day, confidently expecting to reach
     San Francisco by the twenty-fourth instant. In our encounter on the
     Laramie Plains, five members of the "Lo!" family were sent to their
     Happy Hunting Ground, and in the matter of scalps you may score at
     least two for your humble servant.

     With kind regards to friends in Cleveland, I close this letter to
     mount my horse,

             And remain, ever truly yours,
                                                    Willard Glazier.

Captain Glazier's main object now was to push on to Sacramento as fast
as his mustang would carry him. Kelton (Utah), at the northwest corner
of Salt Lake, was accordingly reached soon after leaving Ogden, where he
halted a few hours. This station is seven hundred and ninety miles from
San Francisco. Stock is extensively grazed in its vicinity, feeding on
sage brush in the winter and such grass as they can get; but excellent
grazing is found in the summer. The cattle are shipped to markets on the
Pacific coast in large numbers. Terrace (Utah) was the next
resting-place, seven hundred and fifty-seven miles from San Francisco,
in the midst of a desert with all its dreary loneliness. Continuing his
pace at an average of eight miles per hour--the temperature being very
low at an elevation of nearly five thousand feet--Captain Glazier
observed a few only of the salient features of the wild country he now
passed through, his position on horseback being less favorable for
topographical study than that of the tourist comfortably seated in a

Wells (Nevada) was duly reached by the lonely rider, who found on
inquiry that he was now only six hundred and sixty-one miles from his
destination. This place stands at an elevation of five thousand six
hundred and twenty-nine feet. Humboldt Wells, as they are designated,
give celebrity to the place, which was a great watering-station in the
days of the old emigrant travel. The emigrants always rejoiced when they
had passed the perils of the Great American Desert and arrived at these
springs, where there was always plenty of pure water and an abundance of
grass for the weary animals. Hence it was a favorite camping-ground
before the existence of the Pacific Railroad. The wells are very deep. A
Government exploring party, under command of Lieutenant Cuppinger,
visited the spot in 1870, and took soundings to a depth of seventeen
hundred feet without finding bottom.

Halleck (Nevada) was the next resting station, at an elevation of five
thousand two hundred and thirty feet. It is named from Camp Halleck,
about thirteen miles from the station, where two or three companies of
United States troops are usually kept. The land around is mostly
occupied as stock-ranges.

Elko (Nevada), twenty-four miles nearer his destination, supplied his
wants in the way of rest and food for the night. This is the county-seat
of Elko County, the northeastern county of the State. The town has a
population of 1500, and is destined to become an important city. The
money paid for freights consigned to this place and the mining districts
which are tributary to it, averages $1,000,000 per year. There are
numerous retail stores, and a few wholesale establishments, with a bank,
brewery, hotels, and three large freight depots for the accommodation of
the railroad business. Indians, mostly the Shoshones, of both sexes, are
frequently noticed about the town.

The valley of the Humboldt continued to widen after leaving Elko--the
pastures and meadow lands, with occasional houses, were soon passed, and
the rider pushed on to Palisade (Nevada), his next halting-place, thirty
miles from Elko, and five hundred and seventy-six from San Francisco.
For the last two hundred miles the road had been a gradual descent, and
the change of temperature was very sensible. Palisade is a growing
little place, with a population of about four hundred souls. The town is
located about half way down a cañon, and the rocky, perpendicular walls
give it a picturesque appearance.

Forty-one miles farther west Captain Glazier stopped again for
refreshment and rest at Argenta (Nevada), in the midst of alkali flats.
The road continued for a few miles along the base of the Reese River
Mountain, when suddenly a broad valley opened out--the valley of the
Reese River. Turning to the right he found himself at Battle Mountain
(Nevada), at the junction of the Reese River and Humboldt Valleys. The
town of Battle Mountain has several extensive stores, a public hall, an
excellent school-house and a first-class hotel, with a large and rapidly
increasing trade. Battle Mountain, about three miles south of the town,
is reputed to have been the scene of a sanguinary conflict between a
party of emigrants and a band of red-skins, who were defeated.

Golconda (Nevada) was reached, and is four hundred and seventy-eight
miles from San Francisco. It is a small place, with three or four
stores, a hotel, and several houses. Gold Run mining district, a little
distance to the south, is tributary to the place. Having rested for the
night, Glazier mounted at sunrise and directed his course to Winnemucca
(Nevada), the county-seat of Humboldt county, with a population of
fifteen hundred, among whom are some Indians and not a few Chinamen. The
town has an elegant brick court-house, together with several stores,
hotels, shops, and a school-house. _Winnemucca_ was the name of a chief
of the Piute Indians, who was favorable to the whites at the time of the
laying out of the city.

Humboldt (Nevada) was reached in due time--an oasis in the desert. Here
he was reminded that he was still in a land of cultivation and
civilization. The first growing trees since leaving Ogden were seen
here, with plenty of green grass and flowing fountains of pure water.
Humboldt House offered its hospitality to our traveler, and the place
and its surroundings reminded him of his home in the east. It was a
great relief from the wearisome, dreary views which had everywhere met
his gaze over the largest part of his journey since leaving Omaha.
Humboldt is the business centre of several valuable mining districts,
and has a bright prospect in the future.

The following incident is said to have occurred in one of the Nevada
mining towns not many miles from Humboldt:

About the year 1852 or '53, on a still, hot summer afternoon, a certain
man who shall be nameless, having tracked his two donkeys and one horse
a half mile and discovering that a man's track with spur marks followed
them, came back to town and told "the boys," who loitered about a
popular saloon, that in his opinion some Mexican had stolen the animals.
Such news as this demanded, naturally, drinks all around.

"Do you know, gentlemen," said one who assumed leadership, "that just
naturally to shoot these greasers ain't the best way? Give 'em a fair
jury trial, and rope 'em up with all the majesty of the law. That's the

Such words of moderation were well received, and they drank again to
"Here's hoping we may ketch that greaser!"

As they loafed back to the veranda, a Mexican walked over the hill-brow,
jingling his spurs pleasantly in accord with a whistled waltz.

The advocate for the law said, in an undertone, "That's the cuss!"

A rush, a struggle, and the Mexican, bound hand and foot, lay on his
back in the bar-room. The miners turned out to a man.

Happily, such cries as "_String him up!_" "_Burn the dog-goned
lubricator!_" and other equally pleasant phrases fell unheeded upon his
Spanish ear. A jury was quickly gathered in the street, and despite
refusals to serve, the crowd hurried them in behind the bar.

A brief statement of the case was made by the advocate _pro tem._, and
they showed the jury into a commodious poker-room, where were seats
grouped about neat green tables. The noise outside in the bar-room
by-and-by died away into complete silence, but from afar down the cañon
came confused sounds as of disorderly cheering. They came nearer, and
again the light-hearted noise of human laughter mingled with clinking
glasses around the bar.

A low knock at the jury door, the lock burst in, and a dozen smiling
fellows asked the verdict. The foreman promptly answered, "_Not

With volleys of oaths, and ominous laying of hands on pistol hilts, the
"boys" slammed the door with--"_You'll have to do better than that!_"

In half an hour the advocate gently opened the door again.

"Your _opinion_, gentlemen?"


"Correct! you can come out. _We hung him an hour ago!_"

The jury took their drinks, and when, after a few minutes, the pleasant
village returned to its former tranquility, it was "_allowed_" at more
than one saloon that "Mexicans'll know enough to let white men's stock
alone after this." One and another exchanged the belief that this sort
of thing was more sensible than "nipping 'em on sight."

When, before sunset, the bar-keeper concluded to sweep some dust out of
his poker-room back-door, he felt a momentary surprise at finding the
missing horse dozing under the shadow of an oak, and the two lost
donkeys serenely masticating playing-cards, of which many bushels lay in
a dirty pile. He was then reminded that the animals had been there all

Lovelocks (Nevada) is three hundred and eighty-nine miles from San
Francisco, and its elevation above the sea-level three thousand nine
hundred and seventy-seven feet. It is simply a station, with a few
buildings connected with the Central Pacific Railroad; but is a fine
grazing region, and large herds of cattle are fattened here upon the
rich native grasses. There is quite a settlement of farmers near
Lovelocks. Before the railroad came the pasture lands were renowned
among the emigrants, who recruited their stock after the wearisome
journey across the plains.

Leaving Lovelocks, Captain Glazier soon found himself again on the
barren desert. A side track of the railroad, named White Plains, gave
him rest for the night. The spot is surrounded by a white alkali desert,
covered in places with salt and alkali deposits. Hot Springs is another
station in the midst of the desert, and is so named from the hot springs
whose rising steam can be seen about half a mile from the station.

Hastening forward he reached Desert (Nevada), which he found to be three
hundred and thirty-five miles from San Francisco, and that the place is
rightly named. The winds that sweep the barren plains here, heap the
sand around the scattered sage brush till they resemble huge potato
hills--a most dreary place.

The captain found it quite a relief on reaching Wadsworth (Nevada), a
town of about five hundred souls, and three hundred and twenty-eight
miles from the end of his journey. It has several large stores,
Chinamen's houses, and hotels, in one of the latter of which he found
refreshment and a bed. His route had been for several days across
dreary, monotonous plains, with nothing but black desolation around him.
Another world now opened to his view--a world of beauty, grandeur and
sublimity. Reluctantly leaving this agreeable place, he crossed the
Truckee River, and gazed with delightful sensations upon the trees, the
green meadows, comfortable farm-houses and well-tilled fields of the
ranches, as he rode forward.

He had now crossed the boundary line that divides Nevada from
California, and Truckee was the first place he halted at. This is a
flourishing little city of fifteen hundred inhabitants, one-third of
whom are Chinese, and is two hundred and fifty-nine miles from San
Francisco. A large number of good stores were seen here, and a
considerable trade is carried on.

He next reached Summit (California). From this point the road descends
rapidly to the Valley of the Sacramento.

Several intermediate places having been stopped at, in which our
traveler obtained accommodation for a night, we hasten on with him to
Sacramento, where, on November twenty-first, he found himself again
surrounded with all the appliances of civilization. Sacramento has a
population of twenty-five thousand. The broad streets are shaded by
heavy foliage. It is a city of beautiful homes. Lovely cottages are
surrounded by flowers, fruits and vines; while some of the most elegant
mansions in the State are in the midst of grassy lawns, or gardens
filled with the rarest flowers. Here is the State capitol, a building
that cost nearly $2,500,000 for its erection. Sacramento is an important
railroad centre, second only to San Francisco.

[Illustration: Captain Glazier Riding Into The Pacific--near
The Cliff House, San Francisco.]

Brighton was one hundred and thirty-four miles from the termination of
his ride. At the farm-houses along the road numerous wind-mills were
seen. These are used to fill reservoirs for household wants, and are
common in all the valleys and plains of California.

A halt was made at Stockton, twenty-one miles from destination. This
city has a population of about fifteen thousand, and is only
twenty-three feet above the level of the sea. It was named to
commemorate Commodore Stockton's part in the conquest of California.

Using all despatch, Captain Glazier pushed on to San Francisco, and
entered the city November twenty-fourth, registering at the Palace
Hotel. He immediately after rode, in company with Mr. Walter Montgomery,
and a friend, to the Cliff House, reaching it by the toll-road. This
beautiful seaside resort is built on a prominence overlooking the ocean.
Captain Glazier walked his horse into the waters of the Pacific, and
then felt that he had accomplished his task. He had ridden in the saddle
from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean--from Boston to San Francisco--a
distance of four thousand one hundred and thirty-three miles, in just
two hundred days.

He was now no longer the slave of duty, and would rest for a few days
and see the beautiful city before he returned to the east. He wandered
about, mostly on foot, visited and inspected the numerous public
buildings, the City Park, Woodward's Gardens, etc., and became convinced
from personal observation of the greatness and magnificence of this city
on the Pacific, with its three hundred thousand inhabitants, covering a
territory of forty-two square miles, and the growth of less than thirty
years. On its eastern front San Francisco extends along the bay, whose
name it bears, bounded on the north by the Golden Gate, and on the west
washed by the Pacific Ocean along a beach five or six miles in extent.
It is not, however, a part of our plan to describe this wonderful city,
which has been done most effectively by others.



  Returns to the East by the "Iron Horse."--Boston _Transcript_ on
    the journey on horseback.--Resumes literary work.--"Peculiarities
    of American Cities."--Preface to book.--A domestic incident.--A
    worthy son.--Claims of parents.--Purchases the old Homestead, and
    presents it to his father and mother.--Letter to his parents.

We now accompany our subject on his return journey to the east. His
family and friends had naturally felt great concern for him during his
long and perilous ride, and he was anxious therefore to allay their
fears for his safety by presenting himself before them. He accordingly
purchased a ticket and left San Francisco by rail on the twenty-eighth
of November, and after a journey more rapid and comfortable than the one
he had made on horseback, arrived in New York city on December sixth.

Several of the eastern papers, on hearing of the captain's safe return,
furnished their readers with interesting, and, more or less, correct
accounts of the journey. We can find room only for that of the Boston

     "It will be remembered that on the ninth of May, 1876, Captain
     Willard Glazier, the author of 'Battles for the Union,' and other
     works of a military character, rode out of Boston with the
     intention of crossing the continent on horseback. His object in
     undertaking this long and tedious journey was to study at
     comparative leisure the line of country which he traversed, and the
     habits and condition of the people he came in contact with, the
     industrious and peaceful white, and the 'noble' and belligerent
     red. According to the captain's note-book, he had a closer
     opportunity of studying the characteristics of the _terror_ than
     the toiler of the plains.

     "Accompanied by certain members of the 'Grand Army of the
     Republic,' on the morning of May ninth, as far as Brighton, he
     there took leave of them, and with one companion, rode as far as
     Albany, the captain lecturing by the way wherever inducement
     offered, and handing over the profits to the benefit of the Widows'
     and Orphans' Fund of the G. A. R. Many of these lectures were well
     attended, and the receipts large, as letters of thanks from the
     various 'Posts' testify.

     "From Albany Captain Glazier pursued his journey alone, and rode
     the same horse through the States of New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio,
     Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, and Nebraska, as far as Omaha.
     Thence he proceeded on whatever quadruped of the equine species he
     could obtain, which was capable of shaking the dust from its feet
     nimbly. That he was fortunate in this respect is proven by the fact
     that he rode from Omaha to San Francisco, a distance of nineteen
     hundred and eighty-eight miles in thirty days, making an average of
     about sixty-seven miles per diem. The distance from Omaha to
     Cheyenne, five hundred and twenty-two miles, he accomplished in six
     days; the greatest distance accomplished in one day of fourteen
     hours was one hundred and sixty-six miles, three mustangs being
     called into requisition for the purpose. The entire time occupied
     by the journey was two hundred days, the captain reaching the
     Golden Gate on the twenty-fourth day of November. The actual number
     of days in the saddle was one hundred and forty-four, which gives
     an average of twenty-eight miles and seven-tenths per day.

     "During this strange journey of more than four thousand miles,
     Captain Glazier delivered one hundred and four lectures for the
     object before mentioned, and also for the benefit of the Custer
     Monument Fund, and visited six hundred and forty-eight cities,
     villages and stations. He tested the merits of three hundred and
     thirty-three hotels, farm-houses and ranches, and made special
     visits to over one hundred public institutions and places of
     resort. He killed three buffaloes, eight antelopes, and twenty-two
     prairie wolves, thus enjoying to the full all the pleasurable
     excitement of hunting on the plains.

     "But on the thirty-first of October, while in the company of two
     herders, the tables were turned, and a band of hostile Arrapahoes
     suddenly disturbed the harmony of the occasion. After a lively
     encounter, in which one of the Indians was despatched to the Happy
     Hunting Grounds, Glazier and his companions were taken prisoners,
     and one of the herders was gradually tortured to death. All that
     now seemed to be required of the two survivors was patience--if
     they desired to share a similar fate. But in the early morning of
     the second of November, while their captors were asleep, they
     contrived not only to escape, but to secure the arms which had been
     taken from them; and, mounted on two mustangs belonging to the
     Indians, soon placed a considerable distance between themselves and
     their too confident guards. In the chase which ensued, Captain
     Glazier was separated from his fellow-fugitive, and made good his
     own escape by dismounting two of his pursuers, and eventually,
     after a long, hard gallop, dismounting himself and hiding in a
     gulch. What the fate of the herder was he had no means of

     "Though a man of usually robust constitution, Captain Glazier felt
     the transitions of climate acutely, but he experiences no ill
     effects from the long journey now that it is over. The 'iron horse'
     brought him back to the East of this continent in a few days, and
     there are probably few men in the States who have formed a higher
     opinion of the blessings of steam, than Captain Willard Glazier."

Returned to Washington our soldier-author applied himself again to
literature, his ever active brain having been sufficiently recruited by
the comparative relaxation it had enjoyed during the long ride. One of
the fruits of his pen at this time was a volume entitled "Peculiarities
of American Cities," a subject upon which his flowing pen expatiates
with great freedom and a nice discrimination. That the reader may
perceive the bent of Glazier's mind at this period of his history, we
here present the brief and succinct preface to that work:

"It has occurred to the author very often," he writes, "that a volume
presenting the peculiar features, favorite resorts, and distinguishing
characteristics of the leading cities of America, would prove of
interest to thousands who could, at best, see them only in imagination;
and to others who, having visited them, would like to compare notes with
one who has made their peculiarities a study for many years.

"A residence in more than a hundred cities, including nearly all that
are introduced in this work, leads me to feel that I shall succeed in my
purpose of giving to the public a book, without the necessity of
marching in slow, and solemn procession before my readers, a monumental
array of time-honored statistics; on the contrary it will be my aim in
the following pages to talk of cities as I have seen and found them in
my walks from day to day, with but slight reference to their origin and

       *       *       *       *       *

We will bring this chapter to a close by recording one incident in the
life of its hero, which, humble and common-place as it may be deemed by
some, is one which, in the judgment of a majority of our readers we
venture to think, reflects glory upon Willard Glazier as a son, and the
nation may well feel proud that can rear many such sons.

A subject of great domestic interest which had occupied his thoughts for
a considerable period, but to which he had, in his busy life, been
unable hitherto to give the necessary time and attention, at this time
again forcibly presented itself to his mind. Glazier's sense of a son's
duty to his parents was not of the ordinary type. He was profoundly
conscious of the moral obligation that devolved upon him, to render the
declining years of his parents as free from discomfort and anxiety as it
was within his power to do. They had nursed and trained him in infancy
and boyhood; had set before him daily the example of an upright life,
and had instilled in him a love of truth, honesty and every manly
virtue. Their claim upon him, now that he had met with a measure of
success in life, was not to be ignored, and to a good father and a good
mother he would, so far as he was able, endeavor to prove himself a good

The Old Homestead near the banks of the Oswegatchie, in St. Lawrence
County, New York, where his parents still resided; where all their
children had been born, and where many happy years had been passed, was
not the property of the Glazier family, and there was a possibility that
the "dear old folks" might in time have to remove from it. The thought
of such a contingency was painful to Willard Glazier. It was the spot of
all others around which his affections clung, and he resolved to make a
strenuous endeavor to possess himself of it, so that his father and
mother might pass their remaining days under its shelter.

He accordingly opened negotiations with the owners of the property for
the purchase of the Homestead, and was soon rejoiced to find himself the
sole proprietor of a place endeared to him by so many associations.

The following letter to his parents will form a fitting conclusion to
this chapter:

                                                 102 Waverley Place,
                       New York, _May 1st, 1878_.

     My Dear Father and Mother:

     I am just in receipt of the papers which place me in possession of
     the _Old Homestead_. This, I am sure, will be very pleasing news to
     you, since it is my intention to make it the home of your declining
     years: poor old grandmother, too, shall find it a welcome refuge
     while she lives. I have never felt that I could see the home of my
     birth pass to other hands; my heart still clings to it, and its
     hallowed associations, with all the tenacity of former days. The
     first of May will, in future, have special charms for me, for from
     this day, 1878, dates my claim to that spot of earth which to me is
     dearer than all others.

     Imagination often takes me back to the Old House on the Hill, where
     your children spent many of the happiest hours of their childhood
     and youth. In fancy I again visit the scenes of my boyhood--again
     chase the butterfly, and pick the dandelion with Elvira and
     Marjorie in the shade of the wide-spreading elms.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I have been working for you, dear parents, in the face of great
     obstacles since the close of the war. If you think I have neglected
     you--have not been home in ten long years, then I reply, I did not
     wish to see you again until I could place you beyond the reach of
     want. _One of the objects of my life is to-day accomplished:_ and
     now, with love to all, and the fervent hope that prosperity and
     happiness may wait upon you for many, many years to come,

                                           I remain, always,
                                          Your most affectionate son,

[Illustration: Headwaters Of The Mississippi.]



  An interval of literary work.--Conception of another
    expedition.--Reflections upon the Old Explorers.--Indian
    rumors.--Determined to find the true source of the Great
    River.--Starting on the eventful journey.--Joined by his brother
    George and Barrett Channing Paine.--Collecting materials for the
    expedition.--Brainerd the first point of departure.--Through the
    Chippewa Country.--Seventy miles of government road.--Curiosity
    its own reward.--Arrival at Leech Lake.

An interval of three years, from 1878 to 1881, now elapsed in the career
of Captain Glazier; years of retirement from public attention, but by no
means of inactivity on his part. During this period he was engaged
mainly in literary work, and in preparation for a forthcoming expedition
which his ever restless brain had evolved, and which, if successful,
would furnish a valuable contribution to the geography of North America.

The design of the expedition was no less than the discovery of the true
source of the "Father of Waters," the mighty Mississippi; and a voyage
thence, in a canoe, to its mouth in the Gulf of Mexico. It was a novel
and daring project.

The idea of such an undertaking had occurred to him while on his
horseback journey across the continent; of which a brief outline has
been given the reader in previous chapters. He had come to a point in
his onward progress which is noted for its beauty, being one of the most
picturesque spots on the Mississippi, the bridge spanning the river
between Iowa and Illinois, where the rock-divided stream flows grandly
by under the shadow of towering bluffs. His own words best describe the
impression which the scene made upon him, and the consequent birth in
his brain of the most notable achievement of his life:--

"While crossing the continent on horseback from ocean to ocean, in 1876,
I came to a bridge which spans the Mississippi between Rock Island,
Illinois, and Davenport, Iowa. As I saw the flood of this mighty stream
rolling beneath me, I turned in imagination to its discovery in 1541. I
saw the renowned De Soto upon its banks and buried in its depths: I
accompanied Marquette from the mouth of the Wisconsin to the mouth of
the Arkansas: I followed Father Hennepin northward to St. Anthony's
Falls: and I saw the daring La Salle plant the banner of France on the
shores of the Gulf of Mexico.

"Musing thus upon the exploits of the heroic old explorers who led the
way to this grand and peerless river of North America, I felt that it
was a subject of much regret that although its mouth was discovered by
the Chevalier La Salle nearly two hundred years ago, there was still
much uncertainty as to its true source. Within the last century several
distinguished explorers have attempted to find the primal reservoir of
the Great River. Beltrami, Nicollett, and Schoolcraft have each in turn
claimed the goal of their explorations. Numerous lakes, ponds, and
rivers have from time to time enjoyed the honor of standing at the head
of the 'Father of Waters.' Schoolcraft, finally, in 1832, decided upon
a lake, which he named Itasca, as the fountain-head, and succeeded in
securing for it the recognition of geographers and map-makers.

"Notwithstanding the fact, however, that the claim for geographical
honors was very generally accorded to Schoolcraft's lake, as being the
source of the Mississippi, I had frequently been told that many Indians
denied that their ideal river began its course in Lake Itasca, and
asserted that there were other lakes and rivers above and beyond that
lake, unknown to the white man, and that in them was to be found the
original starting forth of the mysterious stream. These reflections led
me to conclude that there was yet a rich field for exploration in the
wilds of Minnesota."

Thus it was that Captain Glazier determined upon a search for this great
unknown of waters. The time, however, was not yet ripe for the
fulfilment of his purpose. There was promised work to be done, duties to
the public waiting to be fulfilled, various literary responsibilities
accumulated from the past which must be met, the projected undertaking
itself to be specially prepared for;--all this to be done before he
could finally turn his face towards his new purpose.

The intervening period was therefore occupied in carefully revising his
literary productions. Several of his books, written hastily at the close
of the war, had been published in rapid succession in a somewhat
incomplete form, and the constantly increasing demand for their
subsequent editions brought a public pressure to bear upon him for their
needed revision which could not well be resisted.

He had also other forthcoming works on his hands, which he was anxious
should be put into form before he again launched himself upon the sea
of uncertain ventures. In order to collect additional material for his
book upon the "Peculiarities of American Cities" it was necessary that
he should make an extensive traveling tour; consequently, a considerable
portion of this time was spent in visiting the leading cities of the
United States and Canada. Adding to all this the necessary preparatory
labor attending his contemplated voyage in search of the true source of
the Mississippi, and it will be seen that the years elapsing between his
journey from ocean to ocean and his latest expedition were actively and
well employed.

At length, however, all his tasks were accomplished, and the month of
May, 1881, found him stopping for a few days at Cleveland, Ohio, in his
journey westward from New York. Leaving Cleveland on the first day of
June, he proceeded to Chicago, and without further tarrying went from
that city directly to St. Paul, Minnesota, intending to make this the
first point for gathering his forces and collecting the material needed
for his coming exploration. Here he was joined by his brother George and
Barrett Channing Paine, of Indianapolis, Indiana. The month of June was
spent at St. Paul in collecting tents, blankets, guns, ammunition,
fishing tackle and all the various paraphernalia necessary for a six
weeks' sojourn in the northern wilderness.

Finally, all arrangements being completed, the party left St. Paul on
the morning of July the fourth, to go to Brainerd, about a hundred miles
above St. Paul, which was to be the point of immediate departure for
Leech Lake and thence to Lake Itasca. Brief stoppages were made at
Minneapolis, Monticello, St. Cloud and Little Falls on their way up the
river, until Brainerd was reached July the seventh.

Brainerd is an enterprising little village at the point where the
Northern Pacific Railroad crosses the Mississippi, near the boundary of
the Chippewa Indian Reservation, and is the nearest point, of any
consequence, to Lake Itasca. Here Captain Glazier stopped for some days
that he might further inform himself upon the topography of the country,
in order to decide on the most feasible route to his destination, and
also to provide such supplies of food as were necessary. After
consulting maps it was concluded that although Schoolcraft and others
had found Itasca by going up the river through Lakes Winnibegoshish,
Cass and Bemidji, the most direct course would be by way of Leech Lake
and the Kabekanka River. It was therefore decided to take wagon
conveyance to Leech Lake over what is known in Northern Minnesota as the
Government Road. This road stretches for seventy miles through trackless
pine forests and almost impenetrable underbrush, the only habitations to
be seen along its line being the half-way houses erected for the
accommodation of teamsters, who are engaged in hauling government
supplies, and the occasional wigwams of wandering Indians. It was opened
in 1856, by James Macaboy, for the convenience of Indian agents and the
fur trade.

At length, at eight o'clock on the bright, summer morning of Tuesday,
July the twelfth, Captain Glazier and his companions, fully equipped,
and with a driver celebrated for his knowledge of frontier life, began
their long and toilsome wagon journey. A ride of between three and four
hours brought them to Gull Lake, where a halt was proposed and made for
rest and refreshment.

This lake was for many years the home and headquarters of the noted
Chippewa chief, Hole-in-the-day, and has been the scene of many
sanguinary struggles between his braves and those of the equally noted
Sioux chief, Little Crow. The ruins of a block-house, remains of
wigwams, and a few scattered graves are all that is now left to tell the
story of its aboriginal conflicts. A family of four persons living in a
log-house form the white population of the place. Reuben Gray, the
genial patriarch who presides over this solitary household in the
wilderness, delights in the title of landlord, and his hotel (by
courtesy) has become somewhat famous as one of the pioneer half-way
houses between Brainerd and Leech Lake.

After resting for a while and doing ample justice to the appetizing
dinner which was set before them, our travelers resumed their journey.
Pine River was their evening destination, and at five o'clock they
reached the ranche of George Barclay, the only white habitation to be
found between their last resting-place and Leech Lake. Here they were
most agreeably surprised to find very good accommodation for both man
and beast.

An excellent breakfast the next morning, with the fair prospect of
reaching by evening the first terminal point of their journey, put the
travelers in exuberant spirits for the day, and nothing but jolting over
one of the roughest roads ever encountered by them could have lessened
their enjoyment of the occasion. A short stop was made for luncheon at
Fourteen Mile Lake, and this being their first meal in the open air they
were enabled, together with the experience thus far gained in their
journeying, to gauge more accurately their supply of rations. It was
readily discovered that they would need at least a third more
provisions for their expedition than would be required for the ordinary
occupations of in-door life; and it was at once decided to provide an
additional supply of bacon and dried meats before leaving Leech Lake.

After luncheon the Captain's brother and Mr. Paine took a bath in the
lake, while he himself found amusement in duck-shooting and in chatting
with some straggling Chippewas, who were about launching their canoes
for a six weeks' hunting and fishing excursion. It happened that Captain
Glazier had never before seen birch bark canoes, and they were therefore
regarded by him with considerable interest, their use in the future
being indispensable to the success of his undertaking. Now the Captain
possesses, in common with most men of adventurous spirit, a
characteristic desire to get at the bottom facts of everything, and this
curiosity here caused him a laughable mishap; for, the better to examine
it, he stepped into one of the canoes, when, from want of experience in
balancing himself in so light a vessel, he was precipitated into the
lake, much to his own discomfort but greatly to the amusement of the

Firmly resolved upon more caution in the future, the Captain and his
companions pursued their journey towards Leech Lake, which was reached
at four o'clock in the afternoon.



  An embryonic red man.--A primitive hotel.--An unkempt inhabitant of
    the forest.--Leech Lake.--Major Ruffe's arrival.--White
    Cloud.--Paul Beaulieu and his theory about the source of the
    Mississippi.--Che-no-wa-ge-sic.--Studying Indian manners and
    customs.--Dining with Indian royalty.--Chippewa hospitality.--How
    the wife of an Indian Chief entertains.--Souvenir of Flat
    Mouth.--Return of Che-no-wa-ge-sic.--A council held.--An Indian
    speech.--"No White Man has yet seen the head of the Father of
    Waters."--Voyage of exploration.--Launching the canoes.

Upon the arrival of the travelers at Leech Lake their first glimpse of
the embryonic red man was a little fellow of about six years, who ran
out of a wigwam, brandishing a bow in one hand, and carrying arrows in
the other. He was very far from being warlike, however, for with the
first glance at his white brothers he suddenly disappeared in the
bushes. A little further on they came to a log-cabin, over the door of
which was nailed a primitive pine board, bearing the inscription--"Hotel."

Here they were received by a rough-looking man with long hair and
unkempt beard, wearing, besides one other garment, a pair of pants made
from a red blanket. The surroundings were certainly not inviting, and a
closer inspection of the squalid accommodation did not lead them to form
any more favorable opinion. However, travelers cannot always be
choosers, and they really fared much better than they had expected,
dining very agreeably on fresh fish and vegetables; breakfast the next
morning being selected from the same simple bill of fare, varied only by
the addition of "flap-jacks." In default of habitable beds their
hammocks were swung from the rafters of the loft.

Leech Lake is one of the most irregularly shaped bodies of water that
can be imagined. It has no well-defined form, being neither oval nor
circular, but rather a combination of curves and varied outlines made by
peninsulas and bays, of which only a map could convey any accurate idea.
Ten islands are found upon its surface, and seven rivers and creeks
enter it from various directions. It extends not less than twenty miles
from North to South, and a still greater distance from East to West,
with a coast line of over four hundred miles. It was for many years the
seat of the Chippewa Indian Agency, but is now consolidated with the
White Earth and Red Lake agencies. Major C. A. Ruffe is at present agent
of the three departments, with headquarters at White Earth. The village
consists of some half dozen government buildings, as many log-cabins,
and about twenty or thirty wigwams scattered here and there along the
shore of one of the arms of the lake.

The day after the arrival of Captain Glazier's party, the agency was
thrown into a state of excitement by the announcement that Major Ruffe
was on his way to Lake Winnibegoshish by way of Leech Lake. The Major
came the next day, accompanied by Captain Taylor of St. Cloud, one of
the pioneer surveyors of Minnesota; Paul Beaulieu, the veteran
government interpreter, and White Cloud, the present chief of the
Mississippi Indians, who succeeded Hole-in-the-day, the latter having
been killed some time before by one of the Leech Lake band.

Paul Beaulieu, the half-breed interpreter to Major Ruffe, possesses a
fund of information concerning the Upper Mississippi which cannot be
ignored by those who are in pursuit of its mysterious source, and
Captain Glazier considered himself most fortunate in meeting him before
his departure for Lake Itasca. Beaulieu deserves more than a passing
mention, as he is a man of wide experience, and is well known throughout
Minnesota, and, in some circles, throughout the country. He was born at
Mackinaw, while General Sibley was stationed there in the interest of
the American Fur Company, of which John Jacob Astor was then the head.
His father was a Frenchman and his mother an Indian. He received an
English education, partly in the government school of Mackinaw, and
partly at Montreal. On leaving school he was employed by the Fur
Company, and sent all over the United States from the St. Lawrence to
Lower California. He crossed the continent with the Stevens party on the
first Northern Pacific survey, and rendered such valuable services that
he was presented with a testimonial in recognition of his efficiency.

Beaulieu had a theory of his own regarding the source of the
Mississippi, based upon the stories of the Chippewas and other Indians
of his acquaintance. In conversation with Captain Glazier upon the
subject he said that to the west of Lake Itasca there was another lake,
the outlet of which united with the stream from the former, and which
contributed a much larger volume of water at its junction with the
Mississippi than the outlet of Lake Itasca. He therefore assumed that
this nameless and almost unknown lake was the true source of the

In corroboration of the Beaulieu theory Major Ruffe said that he had
heard the same opinion expressed by a number of old and reliable Indian
voyagers. It will thus be seen that there was a great diversity of
sentiment among the most trustworthy authorities as to the actual source
of the Great River.

Captain Glazier was greatly exercised on finding that his arrival at
Leech Lake was at a season when the local band of Indians, the
Pillagers, as they are called, were away upon their annual hunting and
fishing excursion. Their absence from the agency was a serious obstacle
in the way of immediate further progress, for the reason that, being
compelled to take the final step in their expedition to the source of
the Mississippi from this point, it was important that they should
complete their equipment by securing an interpreter, reliable guides and
birch bark canoes.

"Find Rev. Edwin Benedict as soon as you reach Leech Lake" was the last
injunction Captain Glazier received on leaving Brainerd. Mr. Benedict is
Post Missionary, and one of the five representatives of the Episcopal
Church on the Chippewa Reservation, holding his commission from Bishop
Whipple of Minnesota. With this genial gentleman, Captain Glazier spent
the greater part of his time while waiting at the Agency, when not
engaged in preparations for the voyage. The courtesy of a semi-civilized
bed, and the convenience of a table, with pens, ink and paper, were
luxuries to be appreciated and not readily forgotten.

Conversations with Mr. Benedict and with Flat Mouth, chief of the
Chippewas, developed the unexpected fact that there was but one Indian
in the Chippewa country who had actually traversed the region which the
Captain and his party were about to explore, and that he was then
visiting some friends near Lake Winnibegoshish, and was not expected to
return until the following Saturday, some three days off.

Satisfied that Che-no-wa-ge-sic, the Chippewa brave referred to, would
prove indispensable to the success of his expedition, Captain Glazier
decided to await his return to the Agency. While thus detained the
Captain and his friends found themselves indebted to Major Ruffe for his
untiring efforts to relieve the monotony of their sojourn, and to render
their condition as agreeable as possible while within his sovereign

As an important part of Captain Glazier's purpose in his Mississippi
expedition was to study the manners and customs of the people in the
several portions of the country along its banks, he took advantage of
his present detention to inquire into the habits and traits of the
Indians with whom he now came in daily contact. Some extracts from his
private diary, graphically portraying the characteristics which
impressed him, are here especially interesting, as evidence of a certain
power of philosophic reflection and inductive reasoning unusual in the
mind of one so given to the excitement of an active, enterprising life
as was Captain Glazier, who as soldier, author, and explorer certainly
allowed himself little rest for the quiet abstractions of the student.

"Through conversations with Major Ruffe I learned much of the pioneer
history of the post, and the attempts to civilize the Pillagers, as the
Leech Lake Indians are named. This band appears to have separated from
the other Chippewas at an early day, and to have taken upon themselves
the duty of defending this portion of the Chippewa frontier. They
'passed armed before their brethren' in their march westward. Their
geographical position was one which required them to assume great
responsibilities, and in the defence of their chosen frontier they have
distinguished themselves as brave and active warriors. Many acts of
intrepidity are related of them which would be recorded with admiration
had white men been the actors. Perfectly versed in the arts of the
forest they have gained many victories over that powerful assemblage of
tribes known as the Sioux. With fewer numbers the Chippewas have never
hesitated to fall upon their enemies, and have defeated and routed them
with a valor and resolution which in any period of written warfare would
have been stamped as heroic.

"It is not easy on the part of the government to repress the feelings of
hostility which have so long existed between the respective tribes, and
to convince them that they have lived into an age when milder maxims
furnish the basis of wise action....

"The domestic manners and habits of a people whose position is so
adverse to improvement could hardly be expected to present anything
strikingly different from other erratic bands of the Northwest. There is
indeed a remarkable conformity in the external habits of all our
Northern Indians. The necessity of changing their camps often to procure
game or fish, the want of domestic animals, the general dependence on
wild rice, and the custom of journeying in canoes has produced a general
uniformity of life, and it is emphatically a life of want and
vicissitude. There is a perpetual change between action and inanity in
the mind which is a striking peculiarity of the savage state, and there
is such a general want of forecast that most of their misfortunes and
hardships, in war and peace, come unexpectedly."...

Our explorers were agreeably surprised one day during their stay at
Leech Lake by an invitation from Flat Mouth, the present ruler of the
Pillagers, to take dinner with him. Captain Glazier accepted the
invitation with pleasure, for it so happened that although he had for
many years been much among the natives of the forest he had never before
had an opportunity to dine with Indian royalty.

Flat Mouth is a descendant of Aish-ki-bug-e-koszh, the most famous of
all the Chippewa chiefs. He is stalwart in appearance and endowed with
marked talents, and well deserves the title of "chief." At the appointed
time for the dinner, Captain Glazier, accompanied by his brother and Mr.
Paine, went to his residence. They found him living in a comfortable
log-house of two rooms, well floored and roofed, with two small glass
windows. A plain board table stood in the centre of the front room, upon
which the dinner was served. Pine board benches were placed upon each
side of the table and at the ends, and they followed the example of the
host in sitting down. Five other persons were admitted to the meal, the
wife of Flat Mouth, White Cloud, chief of the Mississippis, and three
Chippewa sub-chiefs. The wife of Flat Mouth sat near him and poured out
the tea, but ate or drank nothing herself. Tea-cups, spoons, plates,
knives and forks, all of plain manufacture, were carefully arranged, the
number corresponding with the guests. A fine mess of bass and white fish
cut up and very palatably broiled filled a dish in the centre of the
table, from which the host helped his guests. Birch bark salt cellars
containing pepper and salt mixed allowed each one to season his fish
with both or neither. A dish of blue berries picked on the shore of the
lake completed the repast.

While they were eating, the room became filled with Indians, apparently
the relatives and friends of Flat Mouth, and after the dinner was over,
speech-making being in order, White Cloud arose, and, assuming an
oratorical attitude, addressed Captain Glazier:

He expressed regret that white men had so long been in ignorance of the
source of the Mississippi, and said that although he had not himself
seen the head of the Great River, there were many braves of his tribe
who were familiar with its location. He hoped that his white brother had
come thoroughly prepared to explore the country beyond Lake Itasca, and
that he would not return to his friends until he had found the true
source of the "Father of Waters." Continuing he said: "I am told that
Che-no-wa-ge-sic, the Chippewa warrior, will accompany you. He is a
great hunter and a faithful guide. He can supply you with game and
paddle your canoe. The Chippewas are your friends, and will give you
shelter in their wigwams."

After he had finished, Flat Mouth presented Captain Glazier with a
beautifully beaded pipe and tobacco pouch, the work of his favorite
squaw, and expressed an earnest hope for the complete success of the
expedition. Although Captain Glazier needed nothing to keep the memory
of this novel dinner fresh in his mind, he will always treasure this
souvenir of Flat Mouth among the many pleasant mementos of his visit to
Leech Lake.

Here again, in referring to this dinner and those whom he met there,
Captain Glazier's diary furnishes one of his vivid pen-pictures in an
admirably conceived criticism upon the mental attributes and general
character of the distinguished Indian chief, White Cloud, the orator of
the feast.

"I was much gratified on this occasion by the presence of White Cloud,
whom I had been told was the most respectable man in the Chippewa
country; and if the term were applied to his intellectual qualities and
the power of drawing just conclusions from known premises, and the
effects which these have had on his standing and influence with his own
tribe, it is not misapplied. Shrewdness and quickness of perception most
of the chiefs possess, but there is more of the character of common
sense and practical reflection in White Cloud's remarks than I have
observed in most of the chiefs I have hitherto met. In his early life he
was both a warrior and a counselor, and these distinctions he held, not
from any hereditary right, but from the force of his own character. I
found him quite ready to converse upon those topics which were of most
interest to him, and the sentiments he expressed were such as would
occur to a mind which had possessed itself of facts and was capable of
reasoning from them. His manners were grave and dignified, and his
oratory such as to render him popular wherever heard."

Upon the return of Chenowagesic and other Indians, a council was held
and Captain Glazier stated his object to them. They were asked to
provide maps of the country and to furnish an interpreter, guides and
canoes. Of course, it was impossible to conclude any such important
negotiations as attended an expedition involving the veritable source of
the noble red man's mystical stream without the characteristic Indian
speech. Accordingly, Chenowagesic arose, and with much dignity,
extending his arm towards Captain Glazier, said:

"My brother, the country you are going to visit is my hunting ground. I
have hunted there many years and planted corn on the shores of Lake
Itasca. My father, now an old man, remembers the first white chief who
came to look for the source of the Great River. But, my brother, no
white man has yet seen the head of the 'Father of Waters.' I will myself
furnish the maps you have requested, and will guide you onward. There
are many lakes and rivers in the way, but the waters are favorable. I
shall talk with my friends about the canoes, and see who will step
forward to supply them. My own canoe shall be one of the number."

But a few hours were required to complete the maps, and on the following
morning, three Chippewas, including Chenowagesic, brought each a canoe
and laid it down on the shore of the lake.



  Launching the canoes.--Flat Mouth and White Cloud again.--An
    inspiring scene.--Farewell to Leech Lake.--Up the Kabekanka
    River.--Dinner at Lake Benedict.--Difficult navigation.--A
    peaceful haven.--Supper and contentment.--Lake Garfield.--
    Preparations for first portage.--Utter exhaustion.--Encampment
    for the night.--The cavalry column.--Lake George and Lake
    Paine.--The Naiwa River.--Six miles from Itasca.--Camping on
    the Minnesota watershed.--A startling discovery.--Rations
    giving out.--Ammunition gone.--Arrival at Lake Itasca.

The following day, July seventeenth, was Sunday, and Captain Glazier,
being a guest of Rev. Edwin Benedict, felt some delicacy in commencing
his journey on the Sabbath. Mr. Benedict, however, greatly to his
relief, not only decided that there could be nothing objectionable in
his doing so, but also offered to launch his canoe and bid him
God-speed. In fact, Mr. Benedict had done all in his power to alleviate
the discomfort of his stay, by placing at his service the only
"civilized" bed the village possessed, but now Bishop Whipple was hourly
expected to arrive in the course of his regular visitations to the
missionary posts he had established, and the Captain was not inclined to
monopolize a luxury which doubtless the Bishop would appreciate as much
as himself. Accordingly, early in the morning, which proved to be clear
and beautiful, the explorers met on the shore of the lake, preparatory
to their embarkation. A large number of Indians had assembled to see
them off. Flat Mouth was there, watching his white brothers with
interest as they stepped cautiously into the canoes, for Captain Glazier
had not forgotten his first experience with one of these light vessels.
White Cloud, also, was there, chief of the Mississippis, thinking,
mayhap, somewhat sadly of the time when the great "Father of Waters" was
known only to the Red Man who hunted on its banks, or glided swiftly
down its stream, in happy ignorance of the days when city after city
should line its shores, and steamboats force their devious way through
its waters. There, too, were the friends and relatives of Chenowagesic
and the other guides, watching with characteristic gravity the final
preparations. Rev. Mr. Benedict, the only white man on the beach other
than the explorers, stood ready to launch the canoe.

[Illustration: Captain Glazier Embarking For The Headwaters
Of The Mississippi.]

It was a scene well worthy the painter's most cunning skill--the
beautiful lake, the wigwams dotting its shores here and there, the dark
green of the forest in the background, the Indians with their bright red
blankets adding bits of vivid coloring to the scene, and, at the water's
edge, Captain Glazier, upright and soldierly in bearing, ready to step
into his canoe and start forth in search of the mysterious springs which
had hitherto baffled the investigations of all previous explorers.

Finally, all was ready, the baggage being evenly distributed in the
three canoes with an Indian in each to guide and paddle it. Standing in
the foremost canoe Captain Glazier signified his readiness to start,
when Mr. Benedict pushed the light bark into the water, and waved his
hat in token of farewell. A general waving of hats followed, and soon
our explorers found themselves gliding swiftly over the bosom of the
lake, and almost out of sight of the friends who still watched them from
the shore.

After an hour's paddling they reached the other side of the arm of the
lake on which the Agency is situated, and prepared for a short portage
across a point of land which brought them to a larger arm, where the
wind and the waves had a sweep of fifteen or twenty miles. Coasting
along the shore for some distance they finally paddled across the lake
to the mouth of the Kabekanka River. A brisk wind was blowing from the
north, and the waves ran so high as to cause some anxiety in the minds
of those who were not accustomed to the motion of a canoe; for, now they
rose lightly to the top of the wave and anon sank with a swash into the
trough, splashing and dashing the water over their bows. Gradually,
however, as they became more used to their frail barks, their anxiety
lessened, and they began to enjoy the beautiful prospect before them,
and to inhale with delight the invigorating breeze.

After two or three hours steady work they reached the inlet into which
this branch of the Kabekanka empties. So choked up is this inlet with
reeds and rushes that it required some skill to force an entrance for
the canoes. Finally they succeeded, and paddling up the river they came,
at about eleven o'clock, to a little lake caused by the widening of the
stream, which Captain Glazier named Lake Benedict, in honor of Rev.
Edwin Benedict, who had treated him so courteously during his stay at
Leech Lake. Reaching the upper end of this lake they disembarked and
prepared to enjoy their noon-day meal.

A brief rest, in order the better to digest their hearty dinner,
refreshed the travelers so much that they soon re-embarked and pursued
their voyage. Leaving the lake they entered another branch of the
Kabekanka, and found that at its mouth the stream ran between low
shores, and that its bed was so overgrown with wild rice as to make it
almost impossible for a canoe to work its way through. Further up the
river narrowed and ran more swiftly, the wild rice giving place to snags
and driftwood, which made navigation even more toilsome. Almost worn
out, our weary voyagers began to despair of finding navigable waters,
when to their great joy they espied at a little distance what seemed
like a pond filled with rushes. Struggling onward once more they soon
reached the spot, and found what they supposed to be a pond was the
outlet of a beautiful lake about seven miles long and three broad, into
whose quiet waters they glided with glad hearts and a shout of delight.

It was now late in the afternoon, and time to look about for a
camping-ground, on which to spend the night. Paddling slowly up the
lake, trolling for fish as they went, they soon found a spot which
answered their purpose admirably. It was a bluff near the lake, wooded
with Norway pines, and sloping rather abruptly towards the water. By
this time they had caught half a dozen fine pickerel, and, disembarking,
soon had their fire built, tents pitched and hammocks swung. The guides
prepared supper of broiled fish, accompanied by such canned dainties as
had been brought with them and their keen appetites caused by the fresh
breeze and toilsome paddling prepared them to enjoy with zest their
first supper in the open air.

Supper being over they whiled away the time very pleasantly by
commenting upon the experiences of the day, and discussing the object of
their undertaking, and so free were they from all discomfort, even from
that caused by those torments, the mosquitoes, they felt ready to
declare the hardships of their journey had been much magnified. In this
peaceful and contented frame of mind they retired to their tents and
slept soundly until next morning.

Rising at break of day they were soon on the water making their way to
the head of the lake, where they breakfasted, and upon learning that no
name had ever been given to this beautiful body of water, Captain
Glazier designated it Lake Garfield, in honor of our murdered President.

[Illustration: Camp Among The Pines.]

After breakfast they were informed by the guides that they had now come
to the end of uninterrupted water communication, and must prepare for a
portage of two and a half miles. Little did any of the white members of
the party guess what this meant, and so with light hearts they packed
their traps into convenient bundles and prepared to take up the line of
march. The Indians, in the meanwhile, had made for themselves packs
weighing about a hundred pounds. These packs they wrapped in blankets
and secured with a strap which passed over their foreheads, the packs
resting on their shoulders. Each then placed a canoe, bottom upwards, on
top of his pack, holding it there by means of a cross bar.

All were now ready, and the order, "March," was given. Off started the
Indians in single file with as much apparent ease as if they were
taking a pleasure walk along a well-beaten path instead of plunging,
heavily laden, into the recesses of a trackless forest. Captain Glazier,
his brother and Mr. Paine followed their lead, guided only by the white
bottoms of the canoes gleaming through the dense foliage. It was almost
impossible to keep up with the Indians, whose steady trot at times
increased to a run, and in their efforts to do so they barked their
shins, scratched their hands and faces, tore their clothes, and were
almost devoured by the mosquitoes. On they went, however, determined not
to be beaten by the red man, who showed no sign of fatigue or stopping.
Finally, in spite of their determination to the contrary, they felt
absolutely compelled to cry "halt," when lo! the Indians halted, removed
their packs, and, smiling back at them, no doubt in appreciation of
their discomfort, calmly began to pick the blue berries which grew in
abundance all along the route. With a sigh of relief, the rest of the
party threw themselves full length upon the ground, utterly and
completely exhausted, and fairly groaned aloud when they saw the Indians
were about to resume their packs. There was no help for it, however, so
starting up they prepared to follow, but at a somewhat slower pace. For
several hours they continued their fatiguing journey, until, at eleven
o'clock, reaching a high, clear piece of ground, they decided to rest
and have dinner.

After dinner they found they were far too weary to proceed, so the
Indians, who were apparently as fresh as when they first started, made
two trips to the next lake, carrying everything. On their last trip they
were accompanied by their exhausted white brethren, who succeeded at
last in summoning up sufficient resolution to carry themselves.

Embarking once more in their canoes they pulled through three small
lakes connected by creeks, finally camping for the night on the shore of
a fourth lake. The next morning they were up bright and early and ready
to resume their voyage, which for this day was through a chain of lakes
sometimes connected by small creeks, but more frequently requiring them
to make a portage from one to the other. Gabekanazeba, meaning
"portage," is the Indian name applied to these lakes and the stream
which connects some of them; but Captain Glazier, assuming the right
tacitly yielded to all explorers, called them in order after the brave
cavalry commanders of the Rebellion. Bayard, Stoneman, Pleasanton,
Custer, Kilpatrick, Gregg, Buford and Davies, form the column, with
Sheridan, as the name of the largest and finest, at its head.

Finally, they reached a lake of considerable size whose Indian name,
translated, means Blue Snake. This they crossed at a point where its
width is about five miles, catching a number of fine bass as they went,
and camped for the night on a strip of land between it and a second lake
about half its size. These two bodies of water were respectively
denominated by Captain Glazier Lake George and Lake Paine, after his
brother George and Mr. Barrett Channing Paine, who accompanied him
throughout his entire voyage, sharing his dangers and rejoicing in his
ultimate success.

Upon resuming their journey next morning, July twentieth, the canoes
were paddled across a corner of Lake Paine, and, after a portage of half
a mile, they entered a small river, called by the Indians Naiwa. This
river they descended for about five miles, and after making another
short portage, reached a little stream, upon the shore of which they
rested for dinner. Resuming their voyage they arrived at a beautiful
lake late in the afternoon, upon which Captain Glazier bestowed the name
of Elvira, in memory of his eldest sister.

Here the Indians informed them that they were only six miles from
Itasca, but the joy with which they received the good news was somewhat
checked when they heard that the whole distance, with the exception of
one small lake, must be made by portage. However, they had a night's
rest before them, so taking the canoes out of the water, they were
carried to the top of the nearest ridge of land, where the tents were
pitched for the night.

Their camp was now situated on one of a series of diluvial ridges which
forms the highest ground between the Allegheny and Rocky Mountains. It
is, in fact, the watershed separating the Mississippi, Red River of the
North and St. Lawrence River systems, all these great streams having
their origin in springs or lakes found within this section of Minnesota.

While camping here a discovery was made which caused the party much
uneasiness. This was the startling fact that their supply of canned
meats and other rations was fast giving out! To appreciate their
situation under these circumstances we must remember that they were far
from any trading post, and in a country where they could not hope to
find even an Indian at that season of the year, the many lakes and
marshy ground making hunting impracticable. To add to their dismay, it
was also discovered that during one of the exhausting portages the
trolling hooks had been lost in passing through a bog, while their
ammunition was reduced to sixty-five rounds. Too late did the Captain
regret the permission given to his brother and Mr. Paine, both of whom
were but amateur sportsmen, to fire at any game they might see. They had
blazed away recklessly during the entire voyage, so far succeeding in
killing but one duck. Evidently _they_ could not be depended upon to
replenish the depleted larder. Something had to be done, and after
resolutions of strict economy were proposed and unanimously adopted, it
was decided that hereafter the Captain should occupy the bow of the
first canoe, and, with gun cocked, be ready to fire at any game which a
sudden turn in the river might discover. How the explorers wished they
could subsist on the blue berries which were fully as abundant as the
mosquitoes along the entire route! But it required incessant eating of
these to satisfy the appetite, and even then, hunger, in a short time,
asserted its former sway.

The morning following this discovery was so foggy that it was impossible
to make a start before seven o'clock. The day was warm, and the journey
unusually fatiguing, consisting mainly of a portage twice the length of
the first one they had encountered. It was, therefore, with unfeigned
delight that, late in the afternoon of the twenty-first of July, they
discovered the placid waters of Itasca just ahead of them. Launching
their canoes, they soon reached Schoolcraft Island, after a pull of
about two miles, and prepared to make this point their headquarters.

[Illustration: Making A Portage.]

Lake Itasca was discovered by Henry Rowe Schoolcraft in 1832, and was
located by him as the source of the Mississippi. It is a beautiful body
of water, with an extreme length of about five miles, and an average
breadth of a mile and a half. It has three arms of nearly equal size,
and the island, named after the discoverer of the lake, is situated near
the point where they come together. This island proved to be about three
acres in extent, and is so covered with underbrush that our gallant
little party had much difficulty in clearing a sufficient space for
their camp. Only one or two trees of any size were found, and on the
largest of these, a pine, Mr. Paine carved their names and the date of
their arrival.

By this time Captain Glazier had become more than ever convinced,
through conversations with Chenowagesic, that he was right in his
preconceived opinion that Itasca was not the source of the Mississippi.
He was also satisfied that Chenowagesic was pre-eminently fitted to aid
him in discovering the fountain head, owing to the fact that he was
thoroughly at home in that region, having hunted and trapped there for
many years. So intense had become the Captain's desire not to return
until he had thoroughly explored Itasca and the surrounding country,
that it was with an anxious heart he now put the question to his
companions: would they be willing, on such a limited supply of rations
as they had remaining, to assist him in his explorations, or would they
vote for an immediate descent of the river? To his great relief he found
he had so completely inoculated them, or at least his brother and Mr.
Paine, with his own ambition that with one voice they decided in favor
of a thorough exploration. The Indians were soon persuaded to give
their consent, and so, before retiring for the night, the entire party
expressed their determination to stand by the Captain until he was
satisfied that every effort had been made to discover the remotest
springs in which the Great River really had its origin.

[Illustration: Map Of Lake Glazier]



  Short rations.--Empty haversacks and depleted
    cartridge-boxes.--Statement of Chenowagesic.--Captain Glazier's
    diary.--Vivid description.--Coasting Itasca.--Chenowagesic
    puzzled.--The barrier overcome.--Victory! the Infant
    Mississippi.--Enthusiastic desire to see the source.--The goal
    reached.--A beautiful lake.--The fountain head.--An American the
    first white man to stand by its side.--Schoolcraft.--How he came
    to miss the lake.--Appropriate ceremonies.--Captain Glazier's
    speech.--Naming the lake.--Chenowagesic.--Military
    honors.--"Three cheers for the explorer."

Captain Glazier had instructed his Indian guides to wake him early the
following morning, July twenty-second; but when he himself awoke at six
o'clock he found the remainder of the party still sound asleep, the
toilsome portages of the preceding day having completely exhausted them.
Rousing his companions, preparations were begun for breakfast, which
consisted of a small piece of bacon and one "flap-jack" each. But the
determination of the previous night had so inspirited all that the small
dimensions of the breakfast were scarcely noticed, and the conversation
turned upon the absorbing topic--would they discover a source of the
Mississippi other than Lake Itasca?

Chenowagesic again repeated his statement that there was another lake to
the south, which he called Pokegama, meaning, "a lake on the side of or
beyond another lake." This lake, he said, was smaller than Itasca, but
contributed to the latter through its largest inflowing stream. Captain
Glazier, therefore, instructed him to guide them to this lake and allow
them to make their own observations regarding it. Accordingly, breakfast
being over, the canoes were launched and the coasting of Itasca begun.

Captain Glazier's own account of the events succeeding this breakfast on
Schoolcraft Island is so clear, and his description brings so vivid a
picture before the eye of the reader, that it is only necessary to quote
the following passages from his diary for the reader to understand the
importance of the discovery which he made:

"Notwithstanding the fact that we were now confronted with empty
haversacks and depleted cartridge boxes my companions were still eager
to follow my lead in the work of exploration beyond Itasca, which from
the beginning had been the controlling incentive of our expedition, the
grand objective towards which we bent all our energies. To stand at the
_source_; to look upon the remotest rills and springs which contribute
to the birth of the Great River of North America, to write 'Finis' in
the volume opened by the renowned De Soto more than three hundred years
ago, and in which Marquette, La Salle, Hennepin, La Hontan, Carver,
Pike, Beltrami, Schoolcraft and Nicollet have successively inscribed
their names, were quite enough to revive the drooping spirits of the
most depressed.

"During our encampment on the island Chenowagesic again reminded me that
he had planted corn there many years before, and that his wigwam once
stood near the spot where we had pitched our tents. He also repeated
what he had told me before launching the canoes at Leech Lake that the
region about Lake Itasca was his hunting-ground, and that he was
thoroughly acquainted with all the rivers, lakes and ponds within a
hundred miles. He further said that Paul Beaulieu was in error
concerning the source of the Great River, and led me to conclude that
the primal reservoir was above and beyond Itasca, and that this lake was
simply an expansion of the Mississippi, as are Bemidji, Cass,
Winnibegoshish and several others.

"Fully convinced that the statements of Chenowagesic were entirely
trustworthy, and knowing from past experience that he was perfectly
reliable as a guide, we put our canoes into the water at eight o'clock,
and at once began the work of coasting Itasca for its feeders. We found
the outlets of six small streams, two having well-defined mouths, and
four filtering into the lake through bogs. The upper end of the
southwestern arm is heavily margined with rushes and swamp grass, and it
was not without considerable difficulty that we forced our way through
this natural barrier into the larger of the two open streams which flow
into this end of the lake.

"Although perfectly familiar with the topography of the country, and
entirely confident that he could lead us to the beautiful lake which he
had so often described, Chenowagesic was for some moments greatly
disturbed by the network of rushes in which we found ourselves
temporarily entangled. Leaping from his canoe he pushed the rushes right
and left with his paddle, and soon, to our great delight, threw up his
hands and gave a characteristic Chippewa yell, thereby signifying that
he had found the object of his search. Returning, he seized the bow of
my canoe, and pulled it after him through the rushes out into the clear,
glistening waters of the infant Mississippi, which, at the point of
entering Itasca, is seven feet wide, and from twelve to fifteen inches

"Lusty work with our paddles for half an hour brought us to a blockade
of fallen timber. Determined to float in my canoe upon the surface of
the lake towards which we were paddling, I directed the guides to remove
the obstructions, and continue to urge the canoes rapidly forward,
although opposed by a strong and constantly increasing current.
Sometimes we found it necessary to lift the canoes over logs, and
occasionally to remove diminutive sand-bars from the bed of the stream
with our paddles. As we neared the head of this primal section of the
mighty river, we could readily touch both shores with our hands at the
same time, while the average depth of water in the channel did not
exceed ten inches.

"Every paddle-stroke seemed to increase the ardor with which we were
carried forward. The desire to see the actual source of a river so
celebrated as the Mississippi, whose mouth had been reached nearly two
centuries before, was doubtless the impelling motive. In their eagerness
to obtain a first view of the beautiful lake toward which we were
paddling, and greatly annoyed by the slow progress made in the canoes,
my brother and Paine stepped ashore and proposed a race to the crest of
the hill which Chenowagesic told them overhung the lake. To this
proposition of my companions I made objection and insisted that all
should see the goal of our expedition from the canoes. What had long
been sought at last appeared suddenly. On pulling and pushing our way
through a network of rushes similar to the one encountered on leaving
Itasca, the cheering sight of a transparent body of water burst upon our
view. It was a beautiful lake--the source of the 'Father of Waters.'

[Illustration: Lake Glazier--source Of The Mississippi.
Discovered By Captain Glazier, July 22, 1881.]

"A few moments later and our little flotilla of three canoes was put in
motion, headed for a small promontory which we discerned at the opposite
end of the lake. We paddled slowly across one of the purest and most
tranquil sheets of water we had encountered in our voyage. Not a breath
of air was stirring. We halted frequently to scan its shores, and to run
our eyes along the verdure-covered hills which enclose its basin. These
elevations are at a distance of from three to four miles, and are
covered chiefly with white pines, intermingled with the cedar, spruce
and tamarack. The beach is fringed with a mixed foliage of the evergreen
species. At one point we observed pond lilies, and at another a small
quantity of wild rice.

"As we neared the promontory towards which we were paddling, a deer was
seen standing on the shore, and an eagle swept majestically over our
heads with food for her young, which we soon discovered were securely
lodged in the top of a tall pine. The water-fowl noticed upon the lake
were apparently little disturbed by our presence, and seldom left the
surface of the water.

"This lake is about a mile and a half in its greatest diameter, and
would be nearly an oval in form, but for a single promontory which
extends its shores into the lake so as to give it in outline the
appearance of a heart. Its feeders are three boggy streams, two of which
enter on the right and left of the headland, and have their origin in
springs at the foot of sand-hills, from five to six miles distant. The
third is but little more than a mile in length, has no clearly defined
course, and is the outlet of a small lake situated in a marsh to the
south-westward. These three creeks were named in the order of their
discovery: Eagle, Excelsior and Deer. The small lake, which is the
source of Eagle Creek, I called Alice, after my daughter.

"Having satisfied myself as to its remotest feeders, I called my
companions into line at the foot of the promontory which overlooks the
lake, and talked for a few moments of the Mississippi and its explorers,
telling them I was confident that we were looking upon the True Source
of the Great River; that we had completed a work begun by De Soto in
1541, and had corrected a geographical error of half a century's
standing. Concluding my remarks, I requested a volley from their
fire-arms for each member of the party, in commemoration of our
discovery. When the firing ceased, Paine gave me a surprise by stepping
to the front and proposing 'that the newly discovered lake be named
"Glazier" in honor of the leader of the expedition.' The proposition was
seconded by Moses Legard, the interpreter, and carried by acclamation,
notwithstanding my protest that it should retain its Indian name,

"Much to the surprise of every one, as we were about closing our
ceremonies, Chenowagesic assumed an oratorical attitude, and addressed
me as follows in a few words of true Indian eloquence: 'My brother, I
have come with you through many lakes and rivers to the head of the
Father of Waters. The shores of this lake are my hunting-ground. Here I
have had my wigwam and planted corn for many years. When I again roam
through these forests, and look on this lake, source of the Great River,
I will look on you.'

"The latitude of this lake is not far from 47°. Its height above the sea
is an object of geographical interest which, in the absence of actual
survey, it may subserve the purposes of useful inquiry to estimate. From
notes taken during the ascent it cannot be less than seven feet above
Lake Itasca. Adding the estimate of 1,575 feet submitted by Schoolcraft
in 1832, as the elevation of that lake, the Mississippi may be said to
originate in an altitude of 1,582 feet above the Atlantic Ocean. Taking
former estimates as the basis and computing reasonably through the
western fork, its length may be placed at 3,184 miles. Assuming that the
barometrical height of its source is 1,582 feet, it has a mean descent
of over six inches per mile.

"At Lake Bemidji the Mississippi reaches its highest northing, which is
in the neighborhood of 47° 30'. The origin of the river in an untraveled
and secluded region between Leech Lake and the Red River of the North,
not less than a degree of latitude south of Turtle Lake, which was for a
long time supposed to be the source, removes both forks of the stream
outside the usual track of the fur-traders, and presents a good reason,
perhaps, why its fountain-head has remained so long enveloped in

The information imparted in the foregoing extract brings the whole gist
of the important discovery within the compass of a few paragraphs, and
it will be readily seen from this clear description of the new-found
lake that the source of the Mississippi is at last correctly located.
Many others have attempted to find it: Schoolcraft was sent out by the
Government especially for its discovery, but it remained for Captain
Glazier to successfully accomplish an undertaking which had hitherto
baffled the most determined explorers. This, too, he did entirely at his
own expense, and with no other motive than such as an ardent search
after truth inspires in ambitious minds. He had long doubted that Itasca
was the source of our greatest river. He knew no other way of satisfying
his doubt than by going himself to the remotest headwaters of the mighty
stream. He therefore went there, for with him to think is to determine,
to determine is to act. Friends tried to persuade him he was engaging in
a useless and extravagant expedition, and those to whom he applied for
information respecting the country through which he must pass warned him
that he would have to undergo many hardships; but to all this advice he
turned a deaf ear. His active, energetic, and enterprising temperament
was proof against all fear of discomfort, and his desire to know the
truth overruled every other feeling. And, when at last he stood by the
beautiful lake, the goal of his search, all the trials and annoyances of
his arduous journey sank into insignificance--lost in the depths of his

His companions gazed with delight upon the peaceful scene which lay
before them; and, as they noted the peculiar outline of the lake, what
wonder that the thought came--this was indeed the heart of the
Mississippi, pulsating with life for the great stream flowing onward and
ever onward, enriching and ennobling the land, until at last it loses
itself, by reason of its own vastness, in the waters of the Ocean.

They rejoiced, too, that the first white man to stand at the
fountain-head of America's greatest river was an American--an American
who had fought bravely and suffered many privations for his country. And
as they watched the eagle, whirling in his flight over their heads, they
felt glad that he had chosen this spot for his home, in which to rear
his young in the same proud, free spirit which made him so fit an emblem
for their glorious land.

Much astonishment was expressed by those of the party who were aware of
Schoolcraft's expedition in 1832, that he should have missed finding
this lake so closely connected with Itasca, and various were the
surmises as to the cause of this remarkable oversight. One plausible
suggestion was, that the rushes and reeds had so obstructed the entrance
of the stream into Itasca, that not having a previous knowledge of its
whereabouts, there was nothing surprising in its being overlooked. By
far the most probable theory, however, was advanced by Captain Glazier,
who stated, quoting Schoolcraft himself as authority, that when he
reached Itasca he was too much hurried to make a thorough exploration.
He had made an engagement to meet some Indians in council at the mouth
of the Crow-Wing River, fully seven days' journey from this point, and
he had not more than the seven days to accomplish it. Accordingly, as
his mind had been prepared by his guides all along to accept Itasca as
the true source, he only stopped long enough to see and hurriedly coast
the lake, and then returned to the Indian council on Crow-Wing River.
This is Schoolcraft's own statement, and there can be no doubt that it
is the true reason for his failure to locate the source correctly. He
never saw the beautiful lake to the south of Itasca, fed by the springs
and streams of the marshes which give birth to the Infant Mississippi.

Therefore, he could not know that Itasca was but an expansion of the
stream, like other lakes in its onward course, a sudden growth, as it
were, which gave promise of the vast proportions the mighty giant would
hereafter assume. There would be something almost sad in his coming so
near and yet missing the mark at which he had aimed, if it were not that
he lived and _died_ in the belief that he was right in his assertion
that the great Father of Waters rose in the lake which he, oddly enough,
named Itasca. Oddly, because Itasca is a name given by the Indians to
the mysteries of their religion and necromantic arts, and Schoolcraft,
by his decided statements in regard to the lake, succeeded in enveloping
in mystery the true source for another fifty years. Why it should _ever_
have been a mystery is a question often raised; but there can be no
doubt that it is owing to the fact that no fur traders and but few
Indians ever penetrate the boggy, swampy, lake-covered regions of
Northern Minnesota.

Our explorers, having finished their survey of the lake, now disembarked
and prepared to hold suitable and becoming ceremonies to celebrate their
momentous discovery. First they drank of the clear, cool water to the
health of Captain Glazier, who had led them on to making this grand
achievement. The Captain then thanked them in a few eloquent and
appropriate remarks for their good wishes and also for their faith in
him, and the determination they had shown to stand by him until he had
reached the goal he sought. He spoke, too, of the magnitude and
importance of their discovery, of the knowledge it would add to the
geographical lore of the country, and of the strangeness of the fact
that the source of their mightiest river had so long been a disputed
question. The cause of this he attributed to the peculiarities of the
region in which it rose, the many lakes and swamps making much traveling
impracticable; and recalling the hardships which they themselves had
encountered, expressed his belief that it was not to be wondered at that
earlier explorers had been deterred from making the venture at a time
when civilization was even further remote than it was at present. He
then recounted some of the exploits of the heroic old explorers, and,
reminding his companions that three hundred years had passed away since
white men first beheld the mighty stream by whose cradle they were now
standing, he congratulated them on completing the work begun by De Soto,
Marquette, La Salle, Hennepin and Joliet.

When he had finished Captain Glazier, true to his soldierly instincts,
proposed firing six volleys over the lake, one in honor of each member
of the party. This was accordingly done, and Mr. Paine closed the
ceremonies by leading off with three hearty American cheers for "the
discoverer and the discovery." The Indians chimed in with a Chippewa
yell, and then, while the air was still reverberating with the sound of
their voices, they all paused to take in once more the scene of their



  Voyage from Source to Sea.--Three thousand miles in an open
    canoe.--"Pioneers of the Mississippi."--A thrilling lecture.--The
    long voyage begun.--Mosquitoes.--Hunger and exhaustion.--The
    Captain kills an otter.--Lakes Bemidji and Winnibegoshish.--An
    Indian missionary.--Wind-bound.--Chenowagesic bids farewell to
    the Captain.--Pokegama Falls.--Grand Rapids.--Meeting the first
    steamboat.--Aitkin.--Great enthusiasm.--The new canoes.--Leaving
    Aitkin.--Arrival at Little Falls.--Escorted in triumph to the
    town.--"Captain Glazier! A speech! A speech!"--Lake Pepin.--An
    appalling storm.--St. Louis.--Southern hospitality.--New
    Orleans.--Arrival at the Gulf of Mexico.--End of voyage.

Having decided to his entire satisfaction that the newly located lake
was the true source of the Great River, Captain Glazier was ready to
begin his descent of the stream, for, as yet, but a small portion of his
great undertaking had been accomplished. True, he had done what had
never been done before--he had penetrated into the innermost recesses of
the mystery which had so long enshrouded the head-waters of the
Mississippi, and traversed a part of the country where white man had
never trod before; he had added greatly to the geographical knowledge of
his country's mightiest river, and satisfied the spirit of investigation
which had impelled him to begin this novel adventure; but the by no
means least interesting, and at the same time, practical part of his
voyage still lay before him. De Soto, Marquette, La Salle, Hennepin,
Joliet and Schoolcraft, all had navigated but portions of the great
flood of water to which they owe their renown; _he_ would descend its
entire course from its source in the wilds of Minnesota to its outlet in
the Gulf of Mexico. He would become familiar with the most striking
features of the country on either side, and study through personal
intercourse the varying phases of American character and life, as he
passed from the fur-bearing, lumber-dealing States of the North, by the
vast wheat fields of the West, and finally reach the cotton and sugar
plantations of the South. No one had ever attempted this before, and it
is probable no one will ever attempt it again, for the perils of a
voyage of three thousand miles in an open canoe are not purely
imaginary. And yet this was the only way in which he could
satisfactorily and practically accomplish his object of making careful
and minute observations along the route. Then, too, being himself so
much interested in all that concerned the great "Father of Waters," he
wished to awaken in others a like interest, and to effect this prepared
a lecture on the "Pioneers of the Mississippi," which he intended to
deliver at every town of importance on both banks as he floated down the
stream. "Pay tribute to those to whom tribute is due" is his motto, and
so the tragic fate of De Soto, the sad but poetic death of Marquette,
and the triumphant banner of La Salle, called forth from his ready pen a
lecture replete with historical interest.

Standing, then, by the source of the mighty river, around which so many
beautiful Indian legends cluster, and about which the white man has ever
been curious, the Captain felt a natural throb of pride that so much of
his great undertaking had been successfully achieved, and a hope that
the future held further good in store for him.

Giving the order for embarkation the canoes were soon gliding across the
water bound for Lake Itasca. Entering this lake, a short stop was made
at Schoolcraft's Island in order to obtain the remainder of their
luggage; after which they re-embarked, at three o'clock in the
afternoon, and continued the descent of the river.

From Lake Itasca the Mississippi flows almost directly north, then takes
a turn to the east, and finally sweeps with ever increasing volume south
to the Gulf of Mexico. At first it quietly pursues its course between
rich meadows, and promises easy and safe navigation, so that our little
band of explorers after leaving Itasca expected to have a quiet and
uneventful voyage until they reached the inhabited part of the country.
Such was not the case, however, for they soon found their progress very
much impeded by drift-wood, snags, rapids, and boulders of every size
and description. They overcame these obstacles in various ways, all
requiring much exertion and endurance, and many a time their patience
was nearly exhausted. Sometimes they forced the canoes under the logs
which lay across the stream, and again cut a passage-way through them.
Now they removed the drift from their path and now were obliged to lift
the canoes over it. A little further on a huge boulder would confront
them, making it necessary to disembark and carry the boats around.
Presently a dangerous rapid would be met, and in shooting it some member
of the party would be precipitated into, the water, or perhaps a hole
stove in one of the canoes. At last they were obliged to make a
portage of about half a mile, and upon launching again, soon discovered
that the principal obstructions had been overcome. This was a great
relief to them, for the intolerable annoyance of swarms of mosquitoes
which came in clouds about them, biting even through their clothing, was
quite enough to bear patiently without having the hardships consequent
upon such rugged voyaging to endure.

[Illustration: Captain Glazier Running Rapids On The Upper Mississippi.]

Laborious, however, as they found this unusually rough canoeing, and
troublesome as were the mosquitoes, both trials sank into insignificance
when compared with their ever present danger of starvation. It will be
remembered how bravely all had decided, when they first made the
startling discovery that their supplies were at a low ebb, to pursue
their investigations even at the risk of running completely out of
rations. The strictest economy had been observed ever since, but despite
all their care they now found that unless they could reach a
trading-post within a couple of days they would be compelled to subsist
on such game and fish as they could capture; rather a precarious means
of existence to say the least, especially as they had but a very few
rounds of ammunition left. It was unanimously voted that Captain
Glazier, who was by far the best marksman of the party, should occupy
the bow of the first canoe, and gun in hand be ready to fire at any game
which he had a reasonable chance of hitting. One day while he was thus
keeping a sharp lookout for anything which gave promise of a meal,
Chenowagesic pointed excitedly to a small, black spot just showing above
the water, and told the Captain it was an otter. The Captain fired, and
to the gratification of all, the animal turned over on its back dead.
That day they were unable to bag anything else, and when they encamped
for the night the Indians prepared the otter for supper. At first the
white members of the party refused to share the meal, but hunger was too
much for them, and so, conquering their prejudices, they satisfied their
appetites with the meat, which probably resembles cat meat more nearly
than any other kind. The next day the Indians managed to kill several
ducks by driving them under the water and then spearing them with their
paddles; and the Captain's brother, having improvised a very ingenious
trolling hook, succeeded in catching two fish. The main part of their
diet, however, for four long days, consisted simply of blue berries, and
Captain Glazier became so weak from hunger and exhaustion that he was
barely able to sit upright. At last they met an Indian, a few miles from
Lake Bemidji, who supplied them with dried fish and other provisions,
and that night they encamped on the shores of the lake.

The next day they pursued their voyage under more favorable
circumstances, the larder being tolerably well supplied, the river free
from obstructions, and flowing between beautiful groves and rich
meadows. Late in the afternoon they reached Cass Lake, where they
pitched their tents for the night, and the following day found them at
Lake Winnibegoshish, the largest expansion of the Mississippi.

Their arrival at this lake was at a time when a strong south wind blew
the waters into white-capped waves, which ran very high, and the canoes
were nearly swamped before they could be forced into the little bay upon
the shores of which the Indian village stands. This village consists of
about a dozen wigwams and log-houses, and presents nothing more inviting
than a fine view of this beautiful lake. An Indian missionary named
Kit-chi-no-din is stationed here, and treated the party with marked
courtesy and hospitality, although he could speak but very little
English. During the two days in which they were wind-bound and obliged
to remain inactive, the Captain took several meals with him, and once
attended service in the little log-church of which he had been installed
rector by Bishop Whipple.

During their enforced stay at Lake Winnibegoshish, Chenowagesic bade
farewell to Captain Glazier and returned to his home at Leech Lake.
Every effort was made by the Captain, who had found him invaluable as a
guide, to persuade him to continue the voyage with them; but his mind
was so filled with the legends he had heard of the Lower Mississippi
that no inducement could prevail with him. The Indians of these northern
regions very commonly believe that the eddies and whirlpools found in
the river further down its course are mysterious monsters, and that the
surrounding country is full of strange animals and fearful sights.

On the third day of their stay at the village, the wind moderated
somewhat and they made an attempt to coast along part of the lake,
hoping to reach the outlet in that way. But after struggling with the
waves all the morning they came to a small inlet, and were forced by the
again increasing wind to seek shelter in it.

The next morning another start was made, and, after some very rough
paddling, the party at length arrived at the outlet of the lake, and
from thence pursued the even tenor of their way without any further
interruption until they reached Pokegama Falls, two miles and a half
above Grand Rapids. Here they found a number of white men, the first
they had seen since leaving Leech Lake, encamped and engaged in building
a small steamboat to run up to Lake Winnibegoshish. After a portage
around the Falls they entered Grand Rapids, where they were rejoiced to
find a post-office, a hotel called the Potter House, and a few other
evidences of civilization, such as a comfortable bed, the first they had
slept in for many days.

After leaving Grand Rapids nothing of any importance occurred until
Aitkin was reached, four days later, unless we except meeting the first
steamboat they had seen on the river. This was quite an exciting event,
for the passengers on the boat knowing from the papers that Captain
Glazier's party were on their way to Aitkin, recognized them, and
testified their pleasure in the meeting by cheering, waving their
handkerchiefs and hats, and calling after the explorers kind wishes for
their safety and success.

At Aitkin, the most northern town on the Mississippi, a brief rest was
taken before the Captain embarked on the second stage of his seaward
voyage. He had now entered the bounds of civilization, and from this
point the principal incidents of his expedition were such as would
naturally occur in a country where the people delight to honor
enterprise, courage and ambition. All along the route great enthusiasm
was evinced. When it was announced through the medium of the press at
what time he would reach a given point, the inhabitants flocked to the
landing-place to do him honor; and many, more impatient than the rest,
would put out in canoes and skiffs to meet him on the way. Upon
disembarking he would be escorted to his hotel, usually preceded by a
band playing "Hail to the Chief" or other appropriate airs, and wherever
he delivered his lecture large audiences greeted him, curious to see and
hear the man who had at last discovered the source of the Mississippi,
and who had come so far on its mighty waters in a frail canoe.
Everywhere he charmed all who met him by the courtesy of his manners,
the eloquence and interest of his conversation, and the modesty with
which he spoke of his important undertaking. Some, indeed, were
disappointed by his lecture, having hoped to hear an account of his
discoveries. But while Captain Glazier might with perfect propriety have
spoken of his own exploits after recounting in glowing terms those of
the old explorers, he is too modest and reserved to say aught which
might in the least seem to detract from the achievements of his heroic
predecessors. Therefore, as his subject was the "Pioneers of the
Mississippi," he spoke only of their exploits, giving them in eloquent
words their just tribute of praise, and leaving it to others to say that
what _they_ had only begun _he_ had triumphantly finished.

Upon leaving Aitkin on the fifteenth of August the birch bark canoes,
with the exception of the one used by the Captain himself, were
abandoned, their places being taken by a Rushton canoe, named "Alice,"
after his daughter, and a Racine canoe of the Rob Roy pattern. Their
departure from this thriving little city was the signal for an
enthusiastic demonstration on the part of its inhabitants, who
congregated on the shore to see them off. Captain Glazier acknowledged
the compliment in a short speech, and then, stepping into his canoe, the
little flotilla paddled away amidst the cheers of the multitude.

From this point the descent of the river was comparatively easy. Except
when rainy weather or violent winds prevailed, the voyagers found much
to enjoy in the novel life they were leading, the varying scenery they
met, and the altogether different phase which the Mississippi, the great
waterway of internal commerce in North America, presented to them.

At Brainerd the Captain delivered his lecture for the first time, to a
crowded and appreciative audience. From Brainerd the party dropped down
the river to the antiquated town of Crow-Wing, opposite the mouth of the
Crow-Wing River. Remaining here over night they re-embarked next
morning, and gliding down the stream arrived at about three o'clock in
the afternoon at a point just above Little Falls. Here they were met by
a number of row-boats and escorted to the town. As the little fleet
approached the land the shores were seen to be crowded with people, and
the band struck up, merrily "A Life on the Ocean Wave," "See the
Conquering Hero comes," and other complimentary airs. As soon as a
landing was effected, cries of "Captain Glazier! Captain Glazier! a
speech! a speech!" went up, and in response to the demand the Captain
made a few remarks. First, thanking them for the kind interest
manifested in his voyage, he continued: "I find a great deal of
speculation as I go down the river in regard to the objects of this
expedition, and it may be well to state what they really are. My desire
is to study thoroughly the people, industries, and general features of
the grandest valley in the world--a valley which extends from the great
watershed almost on the northern boundary of the United States to the
Gulf of Mexico, a distance of three thousand miles, and where the
occupations of the people change from the lumbering and fur-hunting of
the north to the cotton and sugar-raising of the south. To do this
carefully and at leisure I take a method of traveling by which I can
devote as much time as is necessary to every section of the river, and
by which I can observe from a standpoint not reached by the ordinary
traveler. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why you see me to-day
descending the Mississippi in a canoe."

The Captain was then escorted to his hotel by the band, and in the
evening delivered his lecture at Vasaly Hall, continuing his voyage the
following day. Between this point and Minneapolis numerous and dangerous
rapids were met, all of which were passed in safety, and the Falls of
St. Anthony were reached without accident. Below these Falls the scenery
was very beautiful, although the immense number of rain storms
interfered sadly with the pleasure of sight-seeing.

When the party arrived at Lake Pepin, a beautiful body of water, thirty
miles in length and three in breadth, and surrounded by majestic bluffs,
they found navigation almost impossible. The winds sweeping down between
the bluffs caused the waves to rise so high that even the river steamers
had been compelled to tie up and wait for the storm to subside. The
Captain, however, had an engagement to lecture at Lake City, half way
down the lake, and as he had never yet failed to appear at the appointed
time he now insisted upon attempting to reach his destination. The
river men in vain endeavored to dissuade him from his purpose. It took
all day to make a pull of sixteen miles, and many a time it seemed as if
the frail canoes would certainly be swamped; but nevertheless they
arrived at Lake City in time for the lecture. And it may be mentioned
here that in this voyage, as in his journey from Ocean to Ocean, he
seldom failed to keep an engagement to lecture. No matter what the
stress of weather or unforeseen accident which would have delayed most
men, he surmounted every obstacle and invariably appeared on the
platform at the appointed hour.

Bad weather, violent squalls, and dangerous rapids were of frequent
occurrence, but nothing succeeded in crippling the energy which Captain
Glazier had all along exhibited. His mind was bent upon reaching the
Gulf in his canoe, and he pursued his course unmindful of the dangers
which he almost daily encountered. At La Crosse the expedition was
reduced in number to the Captain and Mr. Paine, who, for the remainder
of the voyage, used the "Alice."

St. Louis was reached on the eighth of October, and the voyagers were
heartily welcomed by the various boat-clubs of the city and by many
influential citizens. On October the tenth, they re-embarked and
continued their voyage towards the Gulf.

From here Cairo, Memphis, Vicksburg, Natchez, and Baton Rouge were the
chief halting-places, although many a time night overtook them before
they could reach a town or city, and then they would be entertained at
some plantation near the shore with true southern hospitality.
Everywhere they were received with the utmost cordiality. The various
cities along the banks of the river seemed to vie with each other in
doing honor to Captain Glazier; the press spoke in the highest terms of
his expedition and of his great success, and every opportunity was
afforded him to make the most minute observations respecting the
customs, manner of life, business enterprise, and political condition of
the people of the different States. These observations he proposed to
embody in a work to be entitled "Down the Great River"--a work which, in
the light of the Captain's well-known facility as a writer, cannot fail
to be both interesting and instructive.

New Orleans was reached at last, but as the Captain intended to return
there after visiting Port Eads, no stop was made, and the "Alice"
paddled past the Crescent City, arriving at the Jetties on the fifteenth
of November, one hundred and seventeen days after beginning the descent
of the river from its new found source, Lake Glazier.

Many citizens of Port Eads had assembled in small boats at the entrance
to the Gulf to see the "Alice" and her gallant crew in the act of
completing their long voyage. Cheer upon cheer rent the air as the
beautiful little canoe, bearing aloft at the bow a pennant with the
inscription "Alice," and at the stern the glorious "Stars and Stripes,"
paddled from the mouth of the river out into the wide expanse of the
Gulf. Guns were discharged, flags enthusiastically waved, and every
possible demonstration made which could give expression to the
excitement of the occasion.

Reaching the beacon, the Captain and Mr. Paine disembarked, and,
clambering up on the wall, gazed out on the salt waters of the Gulf,
hardly able to realize that this was actually the goal towards which
they had been slowly paddling for almost four months.

Thus ended the longest canoe voyage on record. De Soto, Marquette, La
Salle, Hennepin, Joliet, and Schoolcraft, had all navigated sections of
the Mississippi, but Captain Glazier was the first to traverse its
entire course, from the remotest headwaters to the outlet, a distance of
three thousand one hundred and eighty-four miles. This, too, he had done
in a frail canoe, amidst heavy rains and violent winds, in heat and
cold, in sunshine and in storm, steadily pursuing his course,
unfaltering in his purpose, deterred by no danger, determined only on
success. In the wilds of Minnesota he stood by the beautiful little lake
whose placid bosom first nourishes the infant stream. Paddling onward
with the current, ever increasing in strength and volume, he passed from
the dense forests of the North where nature holds undisputed sway, into
the realms of a civilization growing daily greater and greater. Finally
he reached the broad Gulf, in which the "Father of Waters," now strong
in the strength of maturity, and vast in his proportions, pours his
mighty flood. Every variety of climate, soil and production came under
his observation, and all the striking peculiarities of the Northern,
Western and Southern character. No other man had ever accomplished this,
and therefore it is not difficult to imagine that Captain Glazier's
emotions, when he first saw the salt spray of the Gulf dash high over
the seaward wall of the Jetties, were of an elevated order, and lifted
him for the time above the plane of every-day life. His long voyage was
completed, the objective at which he had aimed was reached, and his
plans had all been attended with success. Of little consequence now
were the dangers he had encountered, the annoyances which had beset him,
the difficulties he had surmounted. He was proud of the fact that he was
the first to stand at the fountain-head of his country's grandest river,
and was the first to traverse its entire course despite the turbulent
waters and dangerous whirlpools which threatened often to engulf him,
and now at its outlet could write "finis" to the great work of his life.
Few men in the world can say as much--for the energy, perseverance,
unfaltering will and indomitable courage which characterize Willard
Glazier are of rare occurrence, and entitle him to a prominent position
in the ranks of America's distinguished sons.



  Captain Glazier returns to New Orleans.--A general ovation.--
    Flattering opinions of the press.--Introduction to the Mayor.--
    Freedom of the City tendered.--Special meeting of the New Orleans
    Academy of Sciences.--Presentation of the "Alice" to the
    Academy.--Captain Glazier's address.--The President's Response.--
    Resolutions of thanks and appreciation passed.--Visit to the
    Arsenal of the Washington Artillery.--Welcome by the Old Guard of
    the Louisiana Tigers.--Pleasant memories of the "Crescent City."

After standing for some time looking out upon the vast expanse of water
which lay before him, Captain Glazier hailed a passing boat and, towing
the "Alice" after them, he and Mr. Paine were rowed back to Port Eads.
Here they were very hospitably entertained until the arrival of the
homeward-bound steamship "Margaret," which they boarded and on which
they returned to New Orleans. There they met with the most cordial
reception; people everywhere were curious to see Captain Glazier, and
anxious to show their appreciation of his enterprising spirit and the
success which had attended his last remarkable exploit. The press, not
only of New Orleans, but all through the Mississippi Valley, gave
glowing accounts of his voyage and of the reception tendered him at its
conclusion. The Mayor offered him the freedom of the city, and the New
Orleans Academy of Sciences gave him a public reception, at which
resolutions were passed recognizing the important results of his
expedition, and thanking him for the beautiful canoe "Alice," which he
had presented to that learned body.

The following account of this reception is taken from the "_St. Louis
Republican_" of November twenty-eighth, and is presented to the reader
because, being the testimony of an eye-witness, it cannot fail to give a
clear idea of the manner in which the scientists of the city, and the
people generally, appreciated Captain Glazier and the work which he had

                  [Correspondence of the _Republican_.]

                                      "New Orleans, _November 23, 1881_.

"The termination of the noted and unprecedented exploring expedition and
canoe trip of the Soldier-Author, Captain Willard Glazier, extending
from his new-found true source of the mighty Mississippi River to the
Gulf of Mexico, culminated, after one hundred and seventeen days'
voyage, in a very general and complimentary recognition and ovation on
the part of the officials and distinguished citizens of New Orleans. In
company with Dr. J. S. Copes, President of the Academy of Sciences, the
successful explorer was presented to his honor, Mayor Shakespear, and
was by him warmly welcomed, and the freedom of the city generously
tendered him. In appreciative recognition of the hospitality extended
him the distinguished soldier, author, and explorer, felt it a pleasing
as well as an appropriate opportunity to present his beautiful canoe,
which had safely carried him through his long and perilous voyage, to
the New Orleans Academy of Sciences. The occasion of the presentation
and acceptance was one of high order and much manifest interest. In
presenting the canoe Captain Glazier tendered the following letter:

                                               "St. Charles Hotel,
                                     New Orleans, _November 21, 1881_.
       Joseph S. Copes, M. D.
         President New Orleans Academy of Sciences:

     Dear Sir:--I have just concluded upon the border of the State of
     Louisiana, a voyage of observation and exploration; and as you have
     expressed considerable interest in the results of my expedition,
     and manifested a desire to possess the canoe in which the
     explorations were made, I find pleasure in presenting it to your
     honorable society as a souvenir of my voyage and discoveries.

     During this canoe journey of over three thousand miles, beginning
     at the headwaters of the Mississippi and extending to the Gulf of
     Mexico, I had the satisfaction of locating the source of the Great
     River which we have traversed, and feel a pride in having corrected
     a geographical error of half a century's standing.

     I will not now enter into a detailed account of my explorations on
     the Upper Mississippi, but shall take the earliest opportunity of
     transmitting to your secretary a complete history of the voyage,
     which will be issued in book form as soon as the matter can be
     prepared for publication.

                                            Very respectfully yours,
                                                      Willard Glazier.

"A special meeting of the Academy of Sciences was held at No. 46
Carondelet street, Dr. J. S. Copes, president, in the chair, for the
purpose of receiving from Captain Willard Glazier the handsome cedar
canoe 'Alice,' with which he navigated the Mississippi River from Aitkin
to the Gulf.

"By invitation Captain Glazier gave an account of his explorations on
the Upper Mississippi and especially of that section of country beyond
Lake Itasca, which body of water has hitherto been considered the
fountain-head of the Great River.

"Dr. Copes in the name of the Academy thanked Captain Glazier for his
valuable gift, which would be highly prized, and then congratulated the
explorer upon his contribution to American geographical knowledge,
comparing him with De Soto, Marquette, La Salle, Hennepin, and Joliet,
whose highest fame was connected with discoveries relating to the

"In the course of his remarks the learned doctor said that De Soto
penetrated the continent of North America in pursuit of gold and
accidentally discovered the Mississippi. Marquette, the zealous
missionary, traversed the river from the mouth of the Wisconsin to the
mouth of the Arkansas. La Salle pursued his explorations from the mouth
of the Illinois to the Gulf, his sole aim seeming to be the conquest of
North America in the name of the King of France. Hennepin explored but a
small section of the stream, extending from the mouth of the Wisconsin
to St. Anthony's Falls, while Captain Glazier has made the important
discovery of its primal reservoir and traversed its entire length from
source to sea.

"The members of the Academy listened with great interest to Captain
Glazier's graphic account of his discovery, and also to the intellectual
and historical address of Dr. Copes.

"Dr. J. R. Walker then offered the following resolutions:

     _Resolved:_--That the thanks of this Academy are due and are hereby
     tendered to Captain Willard Glazier for the donation of his
     beautiful canoe "Alice," and for the brief narrative of his
     explorations at the source of the Mississippi River, and of his
     voyage thence to the Gulf of Mexico.

     _Resolved:_--That this Academy not only gratefully accepts this
     handsome gift, but promises to preserve and cherish it as a
     souvenir of Captain Glazier's high qualities as an explorer and
     contributor to the increase of American geographical knowledge.

"Mr. H. Dudley Coleman moved as an amendment thereto that a copy of the
resolutions be appropriately written and framed, and presented to
Captain Glazier, and that a committee of three be appointed to prepare
the same in accordance therewith.

"The resolutions as amended were unanimously adopted, when Dr. Copes
appointed as the committee, Messrs. Coleman, Walker, and Blanchard.

"The suggestion made by Mr. Coleman that the canoe remain at the arsenal
of the Battalion Washington Artillery until such time as the Academy
prepare a suitable place for it was acceded to.

"At the conclusion of the meeting Mr. Coleman escorted Captain Glazier
to the Washington Artillery Arsenal, and introduced him to Colonel J. B.
Richardson, commanding the battalion, who accepted for the command the
care of the canoe, and extended to Captain Glazier the hospitalities of
the battalion during his stay in the city. Colonel Richardson and Mr.
Coleman then took him around the arsenal and showed him its attractive

       *       *       *       *       *

It will be readily seen from this letter that the members of the New
Orleans Academy of Sciences were much impressed with the importance of
the discovery Captain Glazier had made. The resolutions which they
passed were afterwards handsomely framed and sent to him at St. Louis.

Among the many courtesies which were tendered the Captain during his
stay in New Orleans, he perhaps felt most deeply the royal welcome which
was given him by the Old Guard of the Louisiana Tigers. In his own words
"they could not do too much" for him, and when we remember that only
twenty years have passed away since these brave men and the gallant
Union soldier fought on opposite sides on the battlefields of Virginia,
it cannot be wondered at that he was much impressed with the cordiality
of his reception by his former foes.

At the headquarters of the Washington Artillery, too, he found many who
as Confederate officers and soldiers had formerly been his opponents in
the war, but nothing could exceed the heartiness of their welcome and
the good-fellowship which they displayed. They showed him their old
battle-flags still religiously kept, but a moment afterwards pointed to
the Stars and Stripes which occupied a prominent position in the room.
Altogether Captain Glazier found it difficult to realize that there had
ever been other than the most cordial feeling between the North and
South, and this as much as anything else tended to make his stay in New
Orleans a pleasure which he will long remember.



  Return to St. Louis.--Lecture at Mercantile Library
    Hall.--Brilliant audience.--The Missouri Historical Society
    present.--Eloquent introduction by Judge Todd.--"Pioneers of the
    Mississippi."--Presentation of the "Itasca" to the Historical
    Society.--Remarks of Captain Silas Bent on accepting the
    canoe.--Congratulations of the audience.--Closing scene.

On leaving New Orleans Captain Glazier returned to St. Louis, having an
engagement there to deliver his lecture on the "Pioneers of the
Mississippi." He had been unable to remain long enough for this purpose
during his previous visit to the city on his way down the river, as
winter was rapidly approaching and it was expedient to reach the Gulf as
soon as possible. Therefore, as many were anxious to hear a lecture
which had been so highly spoken of by the press of other cities, he had
been induced to return with this object in view.

He was also desirous of presenting one of his canoes, the "Itasca," to
the Missouri Historical Society in recognition of the unbounded
hospitality he had enjoyed at the hands of the citizens of St. Louis,
and it was decided that the donation of the canoe, a beautiful specimen
of the Rob Roy pattern, should take place on the night of the lecture.

Accordingly, on the evening of January fourteenth, a large audience
consisting of members of the Historical Society, Academy of Sciences,
clergy, officers and teachers of the public schools, and the various
boat clubs of the city, assembled at Mercantile Library Hall to listen
to his thrilling lecture on the pioneer explorers of the Mississippi,
and to witness the formalities of the presentation.

At eight o'clock, Captain Glazier, accompanied by Judge Albert Todd, an
eminent lawyer, and vice-president of the Historical Society, made his
appearance on the platform, and, after the storm of applause which
greeted their entry had subsided, Judge Todd stepped to the front and
introduced the lecturer in the following terms:--

     Mark Twain wrote that in his oriental travels he visited the grave
     of our common ancestor, Adam, and as a filial mourner he copiously
     wept over it. To me, the grave of our common ancestress, Eve, would
     be more worthy of my filial affection; but instead of weeping over
     it, I should proudly rejoice by reason of her irrepressible desire
     for knowledge. She boldly gratified this desire, and thereby lifted
     Adam up from the indolent, browsing life that he seemed disposed
     and content to pass in the "Garden," and gave birth to that spirit
     of inquiry and investigation which is developing and elevating
     their posterity to "man's pride of place"--"a little lower than the
     angels," by keeping them ever discontented with the status quo, and
     constantly pressing on to the "mark of their high calling" beneath
     the blazing legend "Excelsior." It is the ceaseless unrest of the
     spirit, one of the greatest evidences of the soul's immortality,
     that is continually contracting the boundaries of the unknown in
     geography and astronomy, in physics and metaphysics, in all their
     varied departments. Of those pre-eminently illustrating it in
     geography were Jason and his Argonauts; Columbus, De Gama and
     Magellan; De Soto, Marquette and La Salle; Cabot and Cook; Speke,
     Baker, Livingstone and Franklin; and our own Ledyard, Lewis,
     Clarke, Kane, Hall and Stanley. And this evening will appear
     before you another of these irrepressible _discontents_ who would
     know what is still hidden at any risk or privation.

     Impelled by this spirit of enterprise in search of Truth, Captain
     Willard Glazier has discovered, at last, the true source of our
     grand and peerless river, the "Father of Waters," down which he has
     floated and paddled in frail canoes, a distance of more than three
     thousand miles, to its mouth in the Gulf of Mexico. One of these
     canoes is now placed here in your view, and will be presented
     to-night by its navigator to our Historical Society.

     Nearly two hundred years ago La Salle discovered the mouth of the
     Mississippi, yet only now in this year of grace, 1881, was
     ascertained its true fountain source.

     This, the latest achievement of Captain Glazier, is only in the
     natural course of his antecedents. Born as late as 1841, he has
     already gone through the experiences of the Adamic labors of a
     tiller of the soil, the hard toils of the student and of the
     successful teacher; of the dashing and brilliant cavalry officer in
     the Union army through the whole period of our late war, from its
     disastrous beginning to its successful ending; of the sufferings of
     capture and imprisonment in the notorious "Libby" and other
     prisons, and of a daring and perilous escape from their cruel
     walls; of an adventurous tourist on horseback through the most
     civilized and savage portions of our continent, beginning with the
     feet of his horse in the waters of the Atlantic, and ending with
     their splash in the waters of the Pacific. He delivered lectures
     along his route wherever a civilized audience could be collected,
     and suffered capture by the Indians, with all its sensational
     romance and hideous prospects.

     From the material of these antecedents he has written and published
     several books of singular interest and national value.

     From this brief sketch we would naturally expect to see a stalwart
     man, massive and powerful in form and muscle. Our conception of men
     of big deeds is that they also are big. But David was a stripling
     when he slew Goliath of Gath. Napoleon was characterized by the
     society ladies of the period of his early career as "Puss in
     Boots." Our own Fremont and Eads would seem at sight capable of
     only the ordinarily exposed duties of life. Of like physique is the
     subject of this introduction.

     Ladies and gentlemen, it is now my pleasant privilege to introduce
     to your acquaintance Captain Willard Glazier as the lecturer for
     the evening.

At the close of Judge Todd's introduction, Captain Glazier began his
instructive historic lecture on the "Pioneers of the Mississippi,"
holding the attention of all present by the interest of his subject and
the eloquence of his delivery. Beginning with De Soto, the discoverer of
the Great River, he gave an account of his early life and adventures, of
his ambition to found an empire like that of Cortez, and of his arrival
at the mighty stream in whose waters he soon found his final

Marquette, the self-sacrificing missionary, was brought vividly before
the mind's eye of the hearer as the Captain described in glowing terms
the zeal with which he preached the Gospel to the poor benighted
Indians, and drew a picture with all its poetical surroundings of his
death and burial in the wilderness.

La Salle came next, pushing onward down the river until he planted his
triumphant banner on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, and took
possession of the surrounding country in the name of the King of France.
Hennepin and Joliet then claimed the attention of the eloquent speaker,
and their exploits were clearly and forcibly recounted in graphic
language. Other explorers were mentioned, but these formed the
ground-work of the lecture--a lecture replete with historical interest,
and crowded with such a vivid portrayal of incidents that from beginning
to end one can see as in a panorama the Great River and all the mighty
men whose fame is indissolubly connected with the history of its

At the conclusion of the lecture the following letter to the President
of the Historical Society was read:

                                                  1310 Olive Street,
                                         St. Louis, _January 14, 1882_.

     Edwin Harrison, Esq.,
        President Missouri Historical Society:

     Dear Sir:--In my recent canoe voyage down the Mississippi, it was
     my good fortune to receive many courtesies at the hands of the
     press, boat clubs, and other citizens of St. Louis. This, coupled
     with the fact that you have expressed considerable interest in the
     result of my explorations, inclines me to present to you the
     "Itasca," one of the canoes used in the expedition, for the Museum
     of your Society, as a memento of my voyage and discoveries.

     During this tour of observation and exploration, extending from the
     headwaters of the Mississippi River to the Gulf of Mexico, I had
     the satisfaction of locating the true source of the mighty stream
     down which we paddled our canoes to the sea.

     I am not now in a position to give you a detailed account of my
     explorations on the Great River, but shall avail myself of the
     earliest opportunity to transmit to your Secretary a complete
     history of the voyage, which will be issued in book form as soon as
     the matter can be put in proper shape for publication.

                                             Very truly yours,
                                                       Willard Glazier.

In response to this letter Captain Silas Bent, late of the United States
Navy, accepted for the Society the canoe in these words:

     Captain Glazier:--It becomes my pleasant duty to accept for the
     Missouri Historical Society this beautiful canoe, which has itself
     become historic by reason of the service it has rendered you. It
     shall be deposited with other treasured relics in our museum.

     I have also to express to you the high appreciation in which the
     Society holds the valuable contributions to geographical knowledge
     resulting from your explorations among the headwaters of the
     Mississippi River, and your discovery of the remotest lake that
     contributes to the perennial birth of this hydra-headed "Father of
     Waters," whose Genesis near the Arctic regions gives it a length of
     more than three thousand miles to the tropical gulf, to which it
     bears upon its ample bosom in safety the freightage of an empire.

     I desire, too, to thank you for the interesting lecture just given
     us upon the achievements of the heroic old explorers, who have in
     centuries past preceded you in investigations of the
     characteristics of this river. But whilst past investigations have
     made us familiar with the general character of the stream, and the
     peculiarities of its many mouths, yet we know very little of its
     source; and should be gratified I am sure if you could give us this
     evening a brief account of the circumstances attending your
     explorations in that direction, and of the difficulties you had to
     encounter in the accomplishment of your object.

In compliance with Captain Bent's request that he would give some
account of the events connected with his discovery of the source of the
Mississippi, Captain Glazier, greatly to the satisfaction of his large
and appreciative audience, now briefly narrated the leading incidents in
his voyage of exploration.

When he had concluded his personal narrative many came forward to
congratulate him upon his discovery, and to express their appreciation
of the great work he had accomplished. All inspected the "Itasca," which
occupied a prominent position on the platform, with the curiosity human
nature invariably feels concerning any object closely connected with the
fame of a distinguished man or daring exploit. The beautiful canoe was
afterwards placed on exhibition at the rooms of the Historical Society.



  An interesting souvenir.--Greeting at Lake Glazier.--Petition to
    Geographical Societies.--Voice from Aitkin, Gate City of the
    Upper Mississippi.--Tributes from Brainerd.--An old friend at La
    Crosse.--Welcome at Davenport.--Greetings at St. Louis.--Senator
    Lamar.--Royal welcome at Bayou Tunica.--Sentiment of Port Eads.--
    Congratulations of the officers of the "Margaret."--Greetings from
    New Orleans.--"Fame's triple wreath."--Closing remarks.

Such an expedition as Captain Glazier has recently concluded inevitably
gives birth to many souvenirs and trophies of the undertaking which are
always interesting, not only to their immediate recipient but also to
the public generally; for a man of his calibre is in one sense public
property, and as such everything associated with any important
enterprise of his, is loudly demanded by men of all classes without
regard to what would be considered its privacy under other
circumstances. It was the author's good fortune to see such a souvenir
of the voyage--an album in which are inscribed the autographs of eminent
men from various points along the entire route traversed, the first
being dated at the source of the Mississippi, and the last on the shores
of the Gulf of Mexico; and the thought occurred to him that this memento
of the latest exploit in Captain Glazier's exciting life could not fail
to be an object of some interest to the reader who had thus far followed
the soldier, author, and explorer in his eventful and successful
career. He therefore obtained permission to make a few extracts from the
large number before him, and these Greetings of the Voyage are now
presented to the public as a fitting conclusion to the story of the
Captain's journey from source to sea.

The first in order is naturally that of Barrett Channing Paine, his
constant companion during the entire voyage. Standing by the
discoverer's side at the fountain-head of the Great River, he wrote:

                                              Lake Glazier, Minnesota,
                                               _July 22, 1881_.

     My Dear Captain:--From this beautiful lake where the mighty
     Mississippi rises, my best wishes follow you down the course of the
     "Father of Waters" till it mingles its flood with the sea.

                            Very truly yours,

                                                Barrett Channing Paine.

We next quote a petition of Captain Glazier's companions to the
Geographical Societies of the country, although it is not found in the
album. It was published in the Missouri "_Republican_" and various other
newspapers, but being dated Schoolcraft Island, the first stopping place
after leaving the source of the river, it seems quite naturally to
follow the greeting of Mr. Paine:

                                               Schoolcraft Island,
                                       Lake Itasca, _July 22, 1881_.

     To Geographical and Historical Societies:--We the undersigned,
     companions of Captain Willard Glazier, in his voyage of exploration
     to the headwaters of the Mississippi, are fully convinced that the
     lake located by him is beyond question the source of the "Father of

     The privilege of bestowing a name upon the new discovery having
     been delegated to us, we hereby name it LAKE GLAZIER in honor of
     the leader of the expedition, whose energy, perseverance and pluck
     carried us through many difficulties and brought us at last to the
     shores of this beautiful lake--the True Source of the Great River.

     We respectfully petition all Geographical Societies to give it that
     recognition which has heretofore been accorded to Lake Itasca, and
     to which it is justly entitled as the primal reservoir of the
     grandest river on this continent.

           Barrett Channing Paine,      }
               Indianapolis, Indiana.   }             _White_
           George Herbert Glazier,      }          _Companions._
               Chicago, Illinois.       }

           Moses Lagard,                }          _Interpreter_
           Chenowagesic,                }               _and_
           Sebatise Lagard,             }             _Indian_
               Leech Lake, Minnesota,   }             _Guides._

The inhabitants of Aitkin, the first town of importance on the Upper
Mississippi, took great interest in the expedition, and did all they
could to show their appreciation of the intrepid explorers. The
following is from the pen of Warren Potter, one of the pioneer citizens
of the place:

                                                    Aitkin, Minnesota,
                                                  _August 15, 1881_.

     Captain Willard Glazier:--As you float in your birch canoe upon the
     bosom of the "Father of Waters" toward the sea, remember Aitkin,
     the Gate City of the Upper Mississippi.

                            Yours very truly,

                                                         Warren Potter.

Brainerd, situated at the point where the Northern Pacific Railroad
crosses the Mississippi, is a thriving town, and has the honor of
possessing the first newspaper encountered in the descent of the river.
This paper, the Brainerd "_Tribune_," exhibited much cordial interest in
Captain Glazier and his successful explorations, and from time to time
published accounts of the voyage. The autographs of its editor, Arthur
E. Chase, is found in the album, as is that of Hon. Chauncey B. Sleeper,
district attorney for the county, who introduced him to the first
audience before which he delivered his lecture on the "Pioneers of the

                                                  Brainerd, Minnesota,
                                                 _August 19, 1881_.

     Dear Captain:--That your voyage down the Great "Father of Waters"
     may be fraught with experiences both pleasant to yourself and
     beneficial to the public; and that your undertaking may prove a
     worthy epoch in American history, is the wish of

                           Your sincere friend,

                                                       Arthur E. Chase.

                                                  _August 19, 1881_.

     To Captain Willard Glazier:--My cordial good wishes go with you on
     your long and interesting journey. May it result in benefit to
     yourself and your fellow-man.

                                                  Chauncey B. Sleeper,
                                                     District Attorney.

At St. Cloud, Judge L. A. Evans introduced Captain Glazier to his
audience on the evening of his lecture in that city, and wrote as
follows in the album:

                                                 St. Cloud, Minnesota,
                                                 _August 23, 1881_.

     To Captain Glazier:--May your life voyage and your contemplated
     voyage to the mouth of our Great River prove pleasant and

                                                           L. A. Evans.

Hon. Samuel E. Adams, whose patriotic greeting we quote next, is the
editor of the Monticello "_Times_," and was one of the early pioneers of
Wright County, Minnesota.

                                                    _August 24, 1881_.

     Love of one's country is always commendable, and may your labors in
     its defence in the past, and its development in the future, be
     crowned with imperishable renown.

                            Very truly yours,

                                                       Samuel E. Adams.

At Hastings, Captain Glazier was cordially and hospitably entertained by
the proprietor and editor of the Hastings "_Gazette_," and other
prominent citizens. On parting Mr. Todd writes the following in the

                                                  Hastings, Minnesota,
                                               _September 5, 1881_.

     With the cordial good wishes of the "_Gazette_" for a prosperous
     voyage to the Gulf.


                                                           Irving Todd.

The friendly writer of the following is loyal to his State while
greeting the man who evokes the sentiment:

                                                      Davenport, Iowa,
                                              _September 25, 1881_.

     Dear Captain:--As you plough the "Father of Waters" in your frail
     bark, think of "Iowa the Beautiful."

                                                    Charles G. Plummer.

At Davenport, Iowa, Captain Glazier had the pleasure of again meeting
Colonel P. A. J. Russell, city editor of the "_Democrat_." This
gentleman had been the first to greet him on his arrival in that city
during his journey across the continent in 1876, and it was with much
cordiality that he now shook hands with the Captain and congratulated
him upon the success of his latest expedition. But we will let him
express his sentiments in his own language:

                                        Davenport, on the Mississippi,
                                         _September 25, 1881_.
     To Captain Glazier:

    Safety and success--thus far
      Adown this mighty stream;
    May Heaven guard your progress still
      And grant fulfilment of your dream.

                                    Very truly yours, P. A. J. Russell.

The first man to welcome Captain Glazier at La Crosse was Pearce Giles,
an old acquaintance whom he had known for many years in the East. Mr.
Giles tenders his congratulations in these words:

                                                 La Crosse, Wisconsin,
                                               _September 10, 1881_.

     My Dear Captain:--I congratulate you on your important discovery of
     the True Source of the Mississippi--a discovery which must
     associate your name forever with the "Father of Waters." The
     intelligence, earnestness, pluck and persistence you have displayed
     in this, as in numerous other ways, are such as to give you a place
     among the great Americans who have not lived in vain for their

                         Always sincerely yours,

                                                          Pearce Giles.

The visit to Trempealeau, on the left bank of the river, introduced the
canoeists to some extremely agreeable people, whose hearty and
disinterested welcome will be long remembered by Captain Glazier. The
sentiment of one of them is thus kindly expressed:

                                               Trempealeau, Wisconsin,
                                               September 11, 1881.

     Captain Glazier:--My best wishes follow you down the "Father of
     Waters" and through Life's Voyage.

                          Very sincerely yours,

                                                        M. H. Melchior.

While at Bellevue, Captain Glazier was entertained most agreeably by
Hon. W. O. Evans, editor of the Bellevue "_Republican_" who welcomed him
on his arrival, and launched his canoe when he resumed his voyage. He
seemed greatly interested in the Captain's explorations, and expressed
his interest in this manner:

                                                       Bellevue, Iowa,
                                                   September 18, 1881.

     Dear Captain:--That health, wealth, success and perpetual youth may
     attend you in all your grand schemes and enterprises through the
     Voyage of Life is the wish of your new-made friend,

                                                           W. O. Evans.

At Hannibal, Captain Glazier landed and remained three days, during
which interval he met one or two valued friends. Before launching his
canoe this entry found a place in the album:

                                                   Hannibal, Missouri,
                                                  _October 3, 1881_.

     Dear Captain:--May the Mississippi--that Grand Old Patriarch of
     Rivers--carry you safely to the Gulf!

                                                           A. M. Paget.

The "_Post-Dispatch_" one of the leading newspapers of St. Louis, was
foremost in publishing accounts of the explorer's voyage from the time
he left the headwaters of the Mississippi until he reached the Gulf, and
hence the autograph of its editor, Colonel John A. Cockerill, now editor
of the New York "_World_," is of special interest:

                                                  St. Louis, Missouri,
                                                  _October 8, 1881_.

     The "_Post-Dispatch_," sailing on prosperous sea, sends greeting
     and good wishes to Captain Glazier and all daring navigators.

                                                     John A. Cockerill.

Thomas E. Garrett, of the staff of the "_Republican_," inscribed the
following poetic tribute:

                                           Missouri Republican Office,
                                      St. Louis, _October 14, 1881_.

    On land and water--staunch and true,
    You steer and paddle your own canoe,
    Strong arm, brave heart, will pull you through.

                            Very truly yours,

                                                     Thomas E. Garrett.

The editor of the Helena "_Yeoman_" writes:

                                                     Helena, Arkansas,
                                                 _October 22, 1881_.

     Captain Glazier:--May your present voyage down the great
     Mississippi redound to your credit, and add to the honors you have
     already won.

                                                     W. L. Morris,
                                                    "_Yeoman_" Office.

Prof. J. J. Flahift, Superintendent of Public Instruction at Helena,
greets the navigator in these terms:

                                                     Helena, Arkansas,
                                                 _October_ 26, 1881.

    "Nothing great is lightly won,
      Nothing won is lost;
    Every good deed nobly done,
      Will repay the cost;
    Leave to Heaven in humble trust
      All you will to do,"
    But, to reach the Gulf, you must
      Paddle your own canoe.

                                                         J. J. Flahift.

At Natchez, Captain Glazier had the pleasure of hearing Senator Lamar
deliver a political speech, and was afterwards introduced to him at the
Foster House, where both were registered. The Senator seemed much
interested in the Captain's explorations, and so signifies over his

                                                 Natchez, Mississippi,
                                                 _November_ 3, 1881.

     Glad to have met you, Captain Glazier, and I leave with you my best
     wishes for the success of your undertaking.

                                                        L. Q. C. Lamar.

Bayou Tunica will always be held in pleasant remembrance by Captain
Glazier, for he was there most hospitably received and entertained by
John J. Winn, a prosperous merchant and planter. Mr. Winn insisted upon
his remaining with him for two days during the progress of a violent
storm which rendered the river unnavigable, and every effort was made to
make the time pass agreeably. His greeting to the explorer is short but
to the point:

                                              Bayou Tunica, Louisiana,
                                               _November 5, 1881_.

     Captain Glazier:--May your voyage to the Gulf be a pleasant one.

                                                          John J. Winn.

Captain Glazier's first acquaintance with a sugar plantation was made on
reaching the estates of Messrs. V. U. Lefebre and son, who are
extensively engaged in the production of this staple of commerce. This
firm is counted among the wealthiest sugar planters of Plaquemine
Parish, owning and controlling three large plantations. The Captain made
the most of his opportunity to learn something of the art of sugar
manufacture. The cane-field and sugar-mill and every detail were
explained by his polite host, from the cutting of the canes to the
refining process. The Captain and his companion were hospitably
entertained an entire day, and on parting the senior Mr. Lefebre greeted
him in French, the tongue of his mother country:

                                          Eliza Plantation, Louisiana,
                                               _November_ 9, 1881.

     Cher Capitaine:--J'espère que votre voyage au Golfe sera agréable
     que vous garderes un bon souvenir de la Louisiane.

                              Votre sincère,

                                                         V. U. Lefebre.

The inhabitants of Port Eads, the terminal point of the voyage,
displayed, if possible, a more lively interest in the expedition than
those of any other town along the river, for here it was that the goal
was reached and the Captain's long and hazardous undertaking placed
beyond the risk of failure. Some description has already been given of
the triumphant manner in which the arrival of the "Alice" at the Gulf
was proclaimed by the people, and the following lines of F. C.
Welschaus, one of the citizens, expresses, in all probability, the
general sentiment of Port Eads:

                                                 Port Eads, Louisiana,
                                                _November_ 15, 1881.

     undertakings prove as successful as this one.

                                                       F. C. Welschaus.

This kindly wish of Mr. Welschaus in reality concludes the greetings of
the voyage proper, but when Captain Glazier returned to New Orleans from
Port Eads, and afterwards to St. Louis, others were added to the number,
some of which are of so much interest that the author takes pleasure in
quoting them.

The first in point of time was written by the officers of the steamship
_Margaret_, on board of which Captain Glazier steamed back to New
Orleans. This vessel was engaged in the fruit trade between the Crescent
City and ports in Central America. His reception and entertainment by
the officers was characteristic of sailors in general, cordial and
hospitable in the extreme. They expressed great wonder that a mere
landsman could make such an extended voyage in so small a boat, and many
questions were asked and answered upon this subject. Their farewell
greeting is thus entered in the album:

              On Board Steamship "_Margaret_," _November_ 16, 1881.

     To Captain Willard Glazier:--We congratulate you upon the
     successful completion of your great undertaking, and ask you to
     accept the following as our sincere wish and fervent prayer:

    "May your bark of mortality
    Glide down the stream of Time,
    And land at last at that glorious haven
    Where nothing reigns supreme
    But joy, health, prosperity and happiness."

                           John Otteson, _Commander_.
                           Richard Hunter, _Chief Officer_.
                           Albert J. Schlesinger, _Purser_.

While in New Orleans, Captain Glazier had an opportunity to listen to a
sermon by Rev. B. M. Palmer, a prominent clergyman of that city. The
Captain afterwards had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Palmer, who inscribed
this beautiful wish in the album:

                                               New Orleans, Louisiana,
                                              _November_ 22, 1881.

     Captain Glazier:--May your exploration of the Mississippi from its
     source to its mouth be typical of your Voyage of Life, as it rolls
     with its swelling flood into the bosom of God.

                    Yours in the Faith of the Gospel,

                                                     B. M. Palmer,
                                      Pastor First Presbyterian Church.

The greetings from New Orleans would be incomplete without some
reference to H. Dudley Coleman, a member of the New Orleans Academy of
Sciences, and also of the Washington Artillery, of that city, who
extended many courtesies to Captain Glazier. Mr. Coleman was a cavalry
officer in the Confederate Army, and his command had been frequently
opposed to that of the Union soldier on the battle-fields of Virginia.
His Southern gallantry, however, prompted a cordial greeting, and the
true gentleman appeared in the numerous attentions he showered on his
former adversary in arms. Captain Glazier was greatly impressed by this
display of good feeling, and the evident desire manifested on the part
of many Southern gentlemen who received him to bury the animosities of
the late war and promote a state of harmony and cordial friendship. The
blue and the grey are no longer estranged, or such a hearty reception
could not have been accorded to Captain Glazier, whose name and
reputation were well known to many in the Crescent City as of a prolific
writer on military subjects from a Union standpoint. Mr. Coleman's
apparently sincere expressions of a deep friendly interest in the
Captain's exploits on the Mississippi impressed him very sensibly. Want
of space must be our excuse for not including his long and very cordial
greeting in the album.

Albert G. Blanchard, also a member of the New Orleans Academy of
Sciences, and formerly a brigadier-general, C. S. A., shows his
appreciation of the explorations which Captain Glazier had successfully
completed in these terms:

     I congratulate you on your successful exploration of the headwaters
     of the Mississippi River. Your name will always be honored with
     that of Robert Cavalier de la Salle, the discoverer of the outlet
     of this river as you are of its source.

                          Very respectfully your obedient servant,
                                                Albert G. Blanchard,
                                                Deputy City Surveyor.
      New Orleans,
           _November_ 22, 1881.

We next quote from the pen of Dr. J. S. Copes, the learned President of
the New Orleans Academy of Sciences. Dr. Copes manifested an intense
interest in the results of Captain Glazier's expedition, and endeavored
by every method within his power to show the high estimation in which he
held the intrepid explorer:

     Captain Glazier:--I congratulate you upon the successful completion
     of your search for the primal reservoir of the Mississippi River.
     It would be well for the country to erect before the view of its
     youths and young men two monuments, three thousand miles
     asunder--the one at the source, the other at the mouth of the great
     river of North America--upon which should be chiseled "Enterprise,
     Courage, Faith, Fortitude, Patriotism, Philanthropy," leaving to
     posterity the selection of an illustrative name to be engraven on
     each one when events shall have pointed conclusively to the
     benefactors most worthy of this honor.

                                         With great respect,
                                             Yours very truly,
                                                    J. S. Copes,
                        President New Orleans Academy of Sciences.
       New Orleans,
           _November_ 19, 1881.

We will conclude this pleasing souvenir of the voyage by quoting the
sentiment of Judge Albert Todd, who, it will be remembered, introduced
Captain Glazier to his audience at St. Louis upon the occasion of his
lecture on the "Pioneers of the Mississippi," and the presentation of
the "Itasca" to the Missouri Historical Society. Judge Todd is one of
the oldest and most reputed citizens of St. Louis, and showed an
especial appreciation of the Captain's endeavors to increase the
geographical lore of the Mississippi River:

     To Captain Willard Glazier--Greeting:

    With triple wreaths doth Fame thine head now crown;
    The patriot-Soldier's, in fierce battles won;
    The "Pen's," than the "Sword's," mankind's greater boon,
    The bold Explorer's finding where was born
    The rivers' King, till now, like Nile's, unknown.
           *       *       *       *       *
    May years of high emprise increase thy fame,
    And with thy death arise a deathless name.

                                                  Albert Todd,
                            Vice-President Missouri Historical Society.
     St. Louis, _January_ 14, 1882.

       *       *       *       *       *

The career of Captain Glazier up to the present time affords much food
for thought and speculation. His life is pre-eminently a life of
success, and is a brilliant example of what can be accomplished by the
aid of an indomitable will and untiring energy. Although his early
advantages of education and position were of a most ordinary
description, nothing he has ever attempted failed, and none of his
successes have been mediocre. As a soldier he rose from a private to the
rank of captain, and was known as one of the bravest officers on the
field--one of the best disciplinarians in camp; as an author his works
are found in nearly every home in the land, and are read with interest
by people of all ages, classes, and conditions of life; as a lecturer,
the press has ever spoken of him in the kindliest and most favorable
terms; as an equestrian traveler he accomplished a feat never before
attempted, and probably knows more about the wide stretch of country
through which he passed than any other man living; as a navigator and
explorer he not only discovered what had baffled the most determined of
all previous explorers, the source of the Mississippi River, but also
"paddled his own canoe" down the entire course from its fountain-head to
the Gulf of Mexico. He has then unquestionably succeeded in all that he
has undertaken; and, as all men aim at success, the query naturally
arises, why is it that Willard Glazier occupies so high a position in
each of his many fields of labor? The answer in all probability lies in
the fact that while _many_ men have ambition, _few_ have the untiring
industry, the calm perseverance, the determined will, and unfaltering
faith in themselves to grasp and hold the objects of that ambition.
Captain Glazier has never known what failure means, and recalling the
events of his life as portrayed in this narrative, now drawing to a
close, we can understand why this is true. Unceasing labor seems to have
been his motto. As soon as he had pursued one path of industry or
research until it could lead him no further, he sought out and traversed
another with unexampled patience and unflagging zeal. What wonder in the
light of such energy that unqualified success has crowned his
well-directed efforts!

His career affords an example which all men would do well to reflect
upon and imitate. May the Youth of America, by the contemplation of a
life still comparatively young and yet so fraught with mighty deeds, be
especially inspired with the ambition to follow in his footsteps, and a
will to "carve with many a sharp incision," from the shapeless block
which lies before each, the rounded outlines of a strong and noble



                            _Syracuse Times._

"Sword and Pen; or, Ventures and Adventures of Willard Glazier," is
written in a very entertaining style. It gives interesting sketches of
Captain Glazier from boyhood down, and many amusing incidents are
related, in which is embraced a period covering the lively war times.
Near the end of the work is given a minute description of Captain
Glazier's discovery of the source of the Mississippi River, in 1881; in
which, of course, Lake Itasca loses its claim. The captain, after many
adventures, reached the true head of the Great River, which lies many
miles back and beyond Lake Itasca, and from thence he made a voyage down
the "Father of Waters" in a birch canoe, to the Gulf of Mexico. The book
is written by John Algernon Owens, contains 516 pages printed in
attractive style, adorned with numerous fine wood cuts, and is generally
attractive; in fact, people who have read "Battles for the Union" and
"Heroes of Three Wars" with so much interest will be equally interested
in the adventurous life of the soldier-author.

                            _Chicago Tribune._

"Sword and Pen" comprises incidents and reminiscences in the life of
Captain Willard Glazier, and in addition to his army experience gives
details of a novel and adventurous feat accomplished in 1876. In that
year he rode on horseback across the Continent from Boston to San
Francisco. Over 200 days were occupied in making the trip, and the
distance traveled was more than 4,000 miles. His object in undertaking
this journey was to study at comparative leisure the section of country
through which he would pass, and note the habits of the people he came
in contact with. During this trip he was captured by the Indians after a
severe fight, and one of the herders comprising the party was burned at
the stake. In 1881, Captain Glazier started on an expedition to discover
the source of the Mississippi River. In this he was successful, and
immediately thereafter commenced the descent of the river, passing its
entire length from the source to the Gulf of Mexico, in a small open
canoe. The new book entitled "Sword and Pen" gives a minute and graphic
description of the overland ride and the trip down the Mississippi, as
well as the early army experience of the well-known soldier and author.

                       _Hamilton_ (_Ont._) _Times._

"Sword and Pen" is a work replete with stirring pen-pictures of events
in the history of the United States during a critical period of its
history. Its description of the principal incidents in the late war, and
the suffering of the author and others in that detestable "Black Hole of
Calcutta"--the Libby Prison--are most graphic. Willard Glazier's life
was not confined to warfare, though he saw service in nearly all the
great battles between the North and South. A few years ago he rode on
horseback from ocean to ocean, and his observations on that
extraordinary trip are also included in this handsome and interesting
volume. He discovered the true source of the Mississippi in northern
Minnesota, and afterwards performed the journey of 3,000 miles to the
sea board in an open canoe, and a very interesting account of these
journeyings is given in the concluding chapters of the work which is
throughout beautifully illustrated.

                           _Troy Daily Times._

The Works of Captain Willard Glazier, the soldier-author, are so well
known and popular that a life of the writer cannot fail to be
interesting to a large portion of the public. A very complete and
excellent account of Glazier and his achievements has been prepared by
John Algernon Owens, and published by P. W. Ziegler & Co., Philadelphia.
The book bears the title of "Sword and Pen," and recounts the ventures
and adventures of the subject of it in war and literature, comprising
incidents and reminiscences of his childhood, his checkered life as a
student and teacher, and his remarkable career as a soldier and author;
embracing also the story of his unprecedented journey from ocean to
ocean on horseback, and an account of his discovery of the source of the
Mississippi river, and his canoe voyage from thence to the Gulf of
Mexico. The story is told in the simple, direct way that appeals at once
to one's favorable attention. It is an exciting, in some portions a
thrilling narrative, recounting some of the most dramatic and tragic
scenes of the war, in which Glazier, as a youthful cavalry officer, bore
a brave and manly part, being then but nineteen years old. The lad
abandoned his studies and his school teaching and went from Troy to
become a member of the Harris light cavalry, with which he served during
many a bloody fray. He was captured by the rebels and shared the hard
fate that fell to many a poor Union soldier in the prison pens of the
South, and the recital of this part of his experience will recall the
angry blood to the face of every old soldier who reads it, and arouse
the sentient sympathies of every patriot who peruses the volume. The
book contains an appreciative yet discriminating criticism of Glazier's
literary achievements, and is in every sense worthy of the hero with
whom it deals. It is profusely illustrated with battle and other scenes,
and is accompanied by a map giving an accurate presentation of the route
pursued by Captain Glazier in his trip to the source of the Mississippi.
Altogether this is a book well worth reading.

                          _Scranton Republican._

"Sword and Pen" by John Algernon Owens, a story of endurance, patient
toil, danger and daring, very entertaining, as well as instructive. In
Mr. Owens Captain Glazier has found a biographer who has done him
justice, and who has made a book that will be widely read.

                       _Oswego Times and Express._

We have before us a new book, entitled "Sword and Pen; or, Ventures and
Adventures in War and Literature." It is a biography of the
soldier-author, Willard Glazier, a type of the adventurous American of
which we may justly be proud. It takes up the boyish life of Willard
Glazier, takes him from the school-room as a pupil to the school-room as
a teacher, until the war of the Rebellion called him to the army. It
details his adventures as a member of the Ira Harris Cavalry until his
capture by the rebels, and the life he led in the prisons of the South;
and is detailed in a graphic manner. When the war was over the same
spirit of adventure which sent him to the front in the army drove him
into other adventures. The horseback ride from ocean to ocean is
described in an interesting style, followed by the search for the true
source of the Mississippi River and its successful termination, together
with an account of his canoe voyage to the Gulf of Mexico. The book is
full of action, and is interesting as giving a correct history of the
life of this remarkable man. It is profusely illustrated, and is
accompanied by a map of the section covered by the source of the

                           _Boston Transcript._

The biography of Willard Glazier, under the title of "Sword and Pen,"
has achieved a large sale in the Eastern, Western and Middle States.
The subject of the biography, who is still living, was a bright,
wide-awake lad, whose childhood was not more eventful than that of
hundreds of other boys of like condition. He was ambitious, energetic,
and wholly free from any bad habit which would operate as a drawback
upon his advancement in life. His parents were not able to do more for
him in the way of an education than to send him to a common district
school, but he thirsted for an education, and his mind was continually
busy devising ways and means to secure it. The much-needed money to pay
his expenses at the Albany Normal School was at last gained by trapping
minks, whose skins were worth from two to four dollars. From the Normal
he went to teach school, and was engaged in this profession when the
civil war broke out. He was then nineteen years old. The first shot
fired at Sumter changed his whole life plans, and the summer of 1861
found him in the field as sergeant in the Second New York Cavalry. He
participated in a good many exciting contests, and was finally wounded
and captured at Brandy Station, in October, 1863. The story of his life
in prison is vividly told. He made his escape after fourteen months'
imprisonment, and made his way through the enemy's lines into Sherman's
army. After the war he wrote a volume made up of his war experiences,
entitled "Capture, Prison Pen, and Escape," over 400,000 copies of which
have been sold. In 1876, Captain Glazier started from the Revere House,
in this city, to cross the Continent on horseback, a feat which he
successfully performed, reaching San Francisco in two hundred days from
the time of starting--a distance of 4,133 miles. In 1881, he made a
canoe voyage down the Mississippi of 3,000 miles. Captain Glazier is the
author of several books, and has won considerable reputation as a
lecturer. The book before us will be read with deep interest, not only
for what it is worth historically, but as showing what can be
accomplished by pluck and brains without the backing of money.

                             _Buffalo News._

The readers of Captain Willard Glazier's works will be pleased with the
biography of this remarkable man, published by P. W. Ziegler & Co., of
Philadelphia. Captain Glazier's life is full of exciting interest, and
the well-written biography holds the reader's attention to the last. The
account of the discovery of the true source of the Mississippi is
especially interesting from the fact that it gives the best account of
that memorable event that has ever been published.

                          _Albany Sunday Press._

"Sword and Pen." This work is the biography of a man already well-known
by the American public as a soldier and an author. The subject is an
especially interesting one to the people of this section, as Captain
Glazier was born in St. Lawrence county of this State, and spent some
years of his life in this city. His works have been read with interest
by thousands, and now those who have enjoyed them will have the
opportunity to learn something of the author who has for so long
delighted them. This biography gives a very full and interesting account
of the principal events in Captain Glazier's life, among which we notice
especially his remarkable journey from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean
on horseback, his discovery of the true source of the Mississippi River,
and his canoe voyage thence to the Gulf of Mexico. All these episodes
are profusely and elegantly illustrated.

                            _Newark Register._

"Sword and Pen" is the suggestive title of a very readable and
interesting biography of Captain Willard Glazier, the soldier-author, by
John Algernon Owens. "Biography," the author tells us in his preface,
"to be interesting, must be a transcript of an eventful as well as a
remarkable career; and to be instructive, its subject should be
exemplary in his aims and in his mode of attaining them." The subject of
this biography certainly fulfills these requirements, and a much bolder
and less graceful narrative of his adventures and exploits would,
without doubt, be interesting and instructive. Mr. Owens has, however,
heightened the interest, and pointed the moral of his subject's
remarkable career by his clear and correct style, and lively and
picturesque narrative. Captain Glazier was born in northern New York,
near the St. Lawrence, in 1841. His boyhood was passed in the country,
and filled with all a rustic lad's delights and exploits as well as
disadvantages and privations. Fighting hard for an education, he became
a teacher, continuing in this peaceful vocation until the outbreak of
the rebellion summoned him to his country's defence. Passing through a
succession of the most remarkable adventures and escapes in the war, and
rising from the ranks to a captain's post, Captain Glazier has, since
the war, become widely known as the soldier-author, and the triumphs of
his pen have been fully as great as, if not greater than, those of his
sword. The work is well printed and handsomely bound, and will prove
very popular.

                             _Boston Globe._

The adventures of Willard Glazier admirably narrated by John Algernon
Owens, under the title of "Sword and Pen," is a fascinating biography in
which the author has woven many pleasing incidents, sometimes quite out
of the line of his story, yet always to the point and always
entertaining. The war adventures of Glazier, who is called the
"Soldier-author," have already been largely read and appreciated,
particularly by old soldiers. Willard Glazier has enjoyed quite a
literary renown, the sale of his first book, "Capture, Prison-Pen, and
Escape," having been over 400,000 volumes. Mr. Owens has now given us
Captain Glazier's life in a neatly bound volume, from the press of P. W.
Ziegler & Co. of Philadelphia. The hero of this story had an eventful
career which made it interesting. Born of parents of small means, but of
the old Puritan stock, and excellent character, and bred and nurtured in
the midst of the wildest and grandest scenery in the rugged county of
St. Lawrence, with no opportunities for culture, except such as he made
for himself, he rose by his ambition, and was the builder of his own
fortune. There is a strong lesson pointed out by the graphic history of
his career. It teaches to the young uncompromising duty in every
relation of life--self-denial and pluck.

                         _Newark Daily Journal._

"Sword and Pen; or, the Ventures and Adventures of Willard Glazier."
Willard Glazier is an author who has risen into popularity almost
unprecedented in this country. It is said that his first book, "Capture,
Prison-Pen, and Escape," written from facts noted in his diary after a
wonderful career on the battle-field, and in prisons of the South,
reached the enormous sale of 400,000 volumes. "Sword and Pen" is the
story of Captain Glazier's life. Born in obscurity, and toiling for an
education with great perseverance and against obstacles that seemed
almost unsurmountable, he became a teacher of the first rank when only
eighteen years of age. Enlisting in the Second New York Cavalry, at the
very beginning of the war, he served gallantly under General Kilpatrick
in all the battles of Virginia up to October 19, when he was taken
prisoner at New Baltimore, after having two horses shot under him. He
participated in digging the tunnel out of Libby Prison, through which
one hundred and fifteen Union prisoners escaped. Glazier, however, was
left behind. From Richmond he was sent to Danville and other prisons,
frequently attempting to escape. He was sent to Charleston jail, where,
with other prisoners, he was placed under fire of the Union guns on
Morris Island. Next he was sent to Columbia, and then comes a thrilling
recital of escapes and recaptures; wading through swamps and across
rivers at night, and lying hidden in thickets or negro huts by day;
tracked by blood-hounds, frequently shot at; enduring the pangs of
starvation, thirst, cold and rain, the hero finally reached Sherman's
lines after encountering a hundred deadly perils. The brave boy was a
prisoner when the term of his enlistment expired, but he immediately
applied for and obtained a new commission, and after a brief visit to
his parents, he re-entered the army and served until the end of the war.
The story is thrillingly told, yet between the many tragic events
depicted, there occur frequent humorous episodes, especially those
delineating negro character. Young Glazier's brilliant career as the
writer of "Soldiers of the Saddle," "Capture, Prison-Pen, and Escape,"
"Battles for the Union," "Heroes of Three Wars," "Peculiarities of
American Cities," etc., is fully given, with copious extracts from each
work, together with highly favorable notices from the _Boston Post_,
_New York Tribune_, _Chicago Inter-Ocean_ and other leading newspapers.
The last part of the book is devoted to a voluminous and somewhat
roseate description of Captain Glazier's highly successful lecture tour
on horseback from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean; his discovery of
the source of the Mississippi River, and his canoe voyage from thence to
the Gulf of Mexico. Captain Glazier is unquestionably a hero, possessing
genius of a high order, and as he is now only forty-two years of age, it
would seem that there are still brilliant achievements before him.
Whatever may be said of the literary merits of his biography, the
history is of absorbing interest. It is such that takes hold of the
popular heart, and the hundreds of thousands of Grand Army men who read
it will seem to "fight their battles o'er again."

                            _New York Herald._

"Sword and Pen; or, Ventures and Adventures of Willard Glazier," by John
Algernon Owens, is a well-written book and altogether readable. It
describes the humble origin of one who afterwards became one of the most
dashing officers in the Federal cavalry service during the war for the
Union. It tells of the vicissitudes of a life restless but resolute, and
which bears the stamp of heroism and success. There are stories of
school-days full of the activity and frivolity of youth, of failure and
fortune, and a graphic sketch of the turning point in Glazier's career,
which came with the rebellion. From the day he entered the ranks of the
Harris Light Cavalry his course was steadily onward and upward, rising
from corporal to be the captain of brave men nerved to the utmost
endurance and inured to the dangers and hardships of war. The ensuing
pages ring with the enthusiasm of martial achievements, of peril by day
and night, of capture, of the dungeon, and the thrilling escape. The
book closes with a vivid account of his famous ride on horseback from
ocean to ocean, from Boston to San Francisco. This unparalleled ride was
accomplished by Captain Glazier in 1876, the Centennial year, and serves
as a fitting conclusion to a career marked by indomitable industry, true
courage and unquestioned success, showing that

    "Honor and shame from no condition rise;
    Act well your part, there all the honor lies."

The book is profusely illustrated and will be an interesting addition to
either a public or private library.

                           _Hartford Courant._

"Sword and Pen; or, Ventures and Adventures of Willard Glazier," the
soldier-author, by John Algernon Owens. Captain Glazier has had a very
lively career both during the war and since, in explorations on the
upper Mississippi. He is the author of a long list of war books himself,
which have been much commended by the press, for their thrilling
narrative style, patriotic enthusiasm, and dash. He is evidently of the
stuff of which American heroes are made. The book claims for him high
rank as an explorer and discoverer in being the first to definitely
locate the True Source of the Mississippi. It is a readable story of an
adventurous life, and being fully illustrated, commends itself to all
classes of readers.

                     _Cincinnati Commercial Gazette._

John Algernon Owens has compiled incidents and reminiscences in the life
of Willard Glazier, the soldier-author, and the work should occupy a
position on the shelf of every library. The writings of Captain Glazier
are too well known to need any words of commendation from us, his
"Capture, Prison-Pen, and Escape," issued soon after the close of the
war, having been among the most extensively read annals of the war. The
"Sword and Pen" gives a sketch of the early life and adventures of the
soldier-author, his school-boy days, and the incidents of that halcyon
period of youth, all of which reads like a romance. His academic life is
then detailed, after which the stern realities of life are encountered.
His military life follows, and his capture by the Confederate troops.
Then follows a recital of the dreary and monotonous routine of prison
life, together with a vivid account of the scenes enumerated, the
escape, and the final entry into the Federal lines. His life after
re-entering the cavalry is given, and finally his career as an author
and travels across the Continent. The work is written in an attractive
style with a recital of much that has never been told before, while the
old is so garnished that it cannot fail to interest all classes of

                        _Wilmington Morning News._

"Sword and Pen" is the life of Willard Glazier, who was born in St.
Lawrence county, New York, in 1841, of parents of narrow means, who was
a bright, mischievous boy, who educated himself by his own efforts, and
became a country school-teacher; who enlisted in the Harris Light
Cavalry (a New York regiment), at the beginning of the war; who was
promoted from the ranks on account of soldierly qualities and personal
bravery, to the office of first lieutenant; who was captured by the
rebels and imprisoned in Libby Prison and other rebel pens; who finally
escaped and made his way on foot under great privations to General
Sherman's lines during that commander's "march to the sea;" who had made
full notes of his varied army experience, and from these had written
several very popular books about military life at that time, and who,
hence, is designated, "The Soldier-Author," and appears to be enjoying
all the quiet rewards of a patient, industrious, and resolute effort to
improve himself and his fortunes in every legitimate and proper way. As
an account of a boy of the people it is clear and instructive; as a
picture of patriotic and courageous military service at a time of public
peril, it is graphic and often thrilling; as a picture of a determined
and honorable effort by a young man of generous instincts, to make his
own way in the world, it is wholesome and useful. Its style will
probably make its obvious lessons the more impressive to the mass of
readers; and its general circulation among the young men of this
country, nine-tenths of whom must make their own fortunes if they are to
have any, will be a public benefit. It teaches honesty, self-help and
patriotism; and we cannot have too many teachers at work upon these

                           _New York Tribune._

The history of a famous man can never fail to interest the reading
public, especially when it records such adventures and dangers as those
through which the hero of the "Sword and Pen" passed. Willard Glazier's
connection with the great civil war is a fact rendering unusually
fascinating his biography, as perhaps no other fact could have done.
The battles in which he fought are those around which centre the deepest
interest, and the vivid descriptions of his life in Libby Prison, his
unsuccessful attempt at escape therefrom, and his later imprisonment at
Camp Oglethorpe, are replete with interest to both old and young. The
book is written in a bright, attractive style, and is well illustrated
with many cuts of true war life and its thrilling incidents. For the
old, and especially the young, it is a book calculated to work much
good, teaching lessons of patriotism, self-reliance, and perseverance.
His life was one of unusual events, and his indomitable ambition to
advance was not the least of his many excellent qualities. Like many
other well-known men, he began life in humble circumstances, and only to
his own efforts was due the great success he achieved. The author, John
Algernon Owens, brings out vividly the strong points of his hero's
character, and throws around the whole narrative a halo of bright fancy,
which renders the book as attractive as the most highly wrought romance.

                          _Baltimore American._

"Sword and Pen." Willard Glazier has made himself prominent both in war
and literature. He cast his lot with the Federal cause, and served for a
time as a private soldier in the Second Regiment, New York Cavalry. A
little later he won laurels at the battles of Cedar Mountain, Manassas,
Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, Brandy Station, and other historic spots,
and rose rapidly in rank, until at the sharp skirmish near Buckland
Mills he led his comrades as their captain, and was himself captured.
All these features in the career of the soldier-author are portrayed in
the most interesting style, and are followed by a graphic description of
life in Libby Prison. Mr. Owens winds together the thread of detail in
the ventures and adventures of his hero, so that the book reads more
like a romance than a veritable history. The book is divided into three
parts, which are so closely interwoven that the whole forms one
continuous story of a very adventurous life. The hero escapes from
Libby, but is recaptured and confined at Camp Oglethorpe, in Georgia. He
also escapes from this prison, and with the assistance of negroes,
finally reaches the Federal lines. In 1876, he crossed the Continent on
horseback, and was captured by hostile Indians. He escapes and
subsequently planned the way for an expedition to the source of the
Mississippi River.

                          _Philadelphia Ledger._

"Sword and Pen" by John Algernon Owens. Captain Glazier, the
soldier-author, is the writer of several popular works about the
war--"Soldiers of the Saddle," "Battles for the Union," etc. Though
still a young man he has had a most eventful life, serving throughout
the war, and passing through many adventures of which he has since made
good use in his life as an author. He has also accomplished the
remarkable feat of riding from Boston to San Francisco on horseback.
This memoir tells the story of his life in attractive narrative form,
and is full of interesting tales of the war.

                       _Philadelphia Evening Star._

Captain Willard Glazier, who is well known as the author of several
popular works about the late war, some of which have had an
extraordinary sale, has himself been made the subject of a book by Mr.
John Algernon Owens. Captain Glazier has had an eventful life; has been
a teacher, a soldier, an author, explorer and a horseback tourist; and
there is much in his career inculcating the value of self-reliance and
other sterling qualities. He has found an appreciative biographer in Mr.
Owens, whose work will more especially interest soldiers and those fond
of reading of adventure.

                     _Philadelphia Evening Bulletin._

"Sword and Pen" is a book describing the ventures and adventures of
Captain Willard Glazier, who was one of the many gallant heroes of the
civil war, and who wrote some clever books about it after he had laid
aside the sword for the pen. The author of the present work is John
Algernon Owens, and the account he gives of Glazier's youth and young
manhood, his experiences in battle, in prison, after peace came, in
domestic life and in literature, is full of interest, entertainment and
instruction. We heartily commend it to our readers.

                         _Philadelphia Inquirer._

Of course all Americans remember Captain Willard Glazier, the well-known
soldier-author, who has made himself prominent in war and in literature.
The present volume is a more than usually interesting one, and is most
carefully and effectively gotten up. It relates graphically the ventures
and adventures of Glazier from his youth to the present time; and many
of the adventures through which he passed are so thrilling as to seem
almost impossible, yet facts prove them true. Glazier's youth is
minutely detailed; we are treated to a series of adventures by the
youngster, which induce us to believe that his bump of reverence for his
teachers and elders was represented by a cavity. But passing through the
incidents that precede the age of manhood, he turned up in the Second
Regiment, New York Cavalry. From that time until the close of the war,
Glazier's career was a stirring one. From the early fight at Flipper's
Orchard, he successively took part in the battles of Cedar Mountain,
Manassas, Fredericksburg, Brandy Station, Gettysburg and other
engagements. At the cavalry engagement of New Baltimore he was taken
prisoner, and soon thereafter made the acquaintance of the inside of
Libby Prison. We get many glimpses of life in that well-known
Prison-Pen, and are treated to numerous pathetic and humorous incidents
that fell under Glazier's notice. All have read of what was endured by
such of the Union soldiers who passed that ordeal, and the reader can,
therefore, imagine what fell to the lot of this dashing cavalryman. The
great tunnel attempt at escape is graphically told. Glazier also got a
taste of prison fare at Camp Oglethorpe in Georgia. But he made his
escape, and fed and sheltered by negroes, at last, after a second
capture, reached the Federal lines. Soon after the war he wrote a book,
called "Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape;" later he wrote another volume,
called "Three Years in the Federal Cavalry." After this came "Battles
for the Union," speedily to be followed by "Heroes of Three Wars." After
this he rode across the Continent on horseback, and then took the
lecture field, and indeed he has proved himself a thorough American in
being able to do anything and everything equally well. Being possessed
of an energy and audacity that were perfectly marvelous, he rushed in,
as Shakespeare observes, "where angels feared to tread." It is a miracle
that he ever lived to relate them, for Libby Prison experience alone was
sufficient to destroy the constitution of the majority of the prisoners.
"Sword and Pen" will have a large sale.


                                  BY THE

                               PUBLISHERS OF

                          "DOWN THE GREAT RIVER."


The following Appendix to "Down the Great River," by Captain Willard
Glazier, is here reproduced in verification of his claim to the
discovery of the TRUE SOURCE of the Mississippi.

                                        P. W. Ziegler & Co., Publishers.
  720 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, May 10, 1889.

       *       *       *       *       *

The publishers of Captain Willard Glazier's Works, having recently had
their attention drawn to sundry articles in the public prints calling in
question his claim to have located the source of the Mississippi,
conclude to invite the consideration of the reader to a few of the many
press notices, letters of endorsement and other papers placed at their
disposal by friends of the explorer, bearing directly upon the subject
of the primal reservoir or true source of the Great River. In view of
the apparent incredulity of some critics, it is thought expedient to lay
this matter before the public in connection with Captain Glazier's
latest work, "Down the Great River," which gives a detailed account of
his discovery, in order that a sound and enlightened conclusion may be
arrived at upon the merits of the claim presented.


We commence with the press correspondence of Mr. Barrett Channing Paine,
who, at the period of the Glazier expedition, was a reporter on the
staff of the Saint Paul _Pioneer Press_, and subsequently Managing
Editor of the Saint Paul _Globe_. This gentleman accompanied Captain
Glazier to the source of the Mississippi, and thence down the river in a
canoe to the Gulf of Mexico. During the entire voyage Mr. Paine was in
constant correspondence with the _Pioneer Press_ and leading papers of
various cities on the banks of the Mississippi, to which he furnished
detailed accounts of the discovery and incidents of the journey. We
present only a few of these letters, selected from a large number, for
the perusal of the reader. The writer was certainly in a position to
know the truth of the matters upon which he so intelligently reports.

_Letter to the Brainerd (Minnesota) Tribune from Channing Paine:_

                                                "Schoolcraft Island,
                                            "_Lake Itasca, Minnesota,_
                                                 "July 22, 1881.

     "_To the Editor of the Tribune:_

     "Captain Glazier's party arrived at this much-talked-of lake last
     evening, reaching the south-eastern arm by a three mile portage,
     and then paddling down to the Island, where we encamped. We left
     Leech Lake on the sixteenth, after cordial farewells with the
     gentlemen then at the Agency, especially Mr. Nichols and Rev. Edwin
     Benedict, to whose kindness we were greatly indebted. Launching our
     little fleet of canoes, three in number, on the billowy surface of
     the lake, we started for our first objective, Lake Itasca. After
     leaving Leech Lake our way lay up a river called by the Indians
     Gabakauazeba. The river broadens out a short distance from the
     lake, but narrows again and becomes tortuous and full of snags.
     Passing safely through all these, we reached, late in the
     afternoon, a fine lake nearly ten miles long, upon the shore of
     which we encamped. Next morning we paddled to the upper end of the
     lake, and were there introduced to our first real portage. Two
     miles and a half over a very rough country--the hardest work we
     ever undertook--brought us to another but smaller lake, and then,
     for five days, lakes and portages followed each other in rapid
     succession, until at length the waters of Itasca burst upon our
     view. The talk of our guides, coupled with what we had heard at
     Leech Lake, had led Captain Glazier to the conclusion that,
     whatever the source of the Mississippi might be, there was
     reasonable ground for the belief that Lake Itasca was not. Chief
     among the theories advanced by the Indian guides, one of whom,
     Chenowagesic, had hunted and trapped for years at the headwaters of
     this river, was that there existed a lake of good dimensions and
     wooded shores _above_ Itasca, which poured its waters into the
     so-called source, and which was itself really the source of the
     Great River. They also stated (correctly, as we afterwards learned)
     that the stream which flowed from the lake spoken of by Paul
     Beaulieu as perhaps the source, contributed much less water to the
     main stream at its confluence with it than did the stream from
     Itasca. Resolved to explore the lake _above_ Itasca, the captain
     started with two canoes, next morning, from Schoolcraft Island, and
     pushed up to the head of the lake. Chenowagesic piloted us through
     the rushes with which this end of Itasca is filled, and presently
     we found ourselves in a small but rapid stream, up which we went,
     and after following its windings, paddled again through some
     rushes, and then shot out upon the smooth surface of a beautiful
     lake. This lake is about two miles long by a mile and a half broad,
     and its shape is that of a heart. The shores are beautifully
     wooded, and its waters are deep and clear. On its one promontory
     our party landed. After exploring its shores, and first slaking our
     thirst at a spring of ice-cold water which bubbled up near by, we
     were marshalled in line, and Captain Glazier made a few remarks
     pertinent to the discovery of the _true source_ of the Father of
     Waters. After this six volleys were fired in honor of the occasion,
     and then the question of a name for the new lake arose. This being
     left for the party to decide, I addressed my companions, and after
     alluding to the time, money and energy expended by the leader of
     the expedition, proposed that it be named LAKE GLAZIER in his
     honor. This proposition was received with applause and carried by
     acclamation, and it was further decided that the name and date
     should be blazed on a pine tree which stood conspicuously on the
     point. After this we re-embarked in our canoes and returned to the

       *       *       *       *       *

In the following letter Channing Paine gives a further account of the
discovery of the head of the Great River:

                                                     "Douglas House,
                                                  "_Aitkin, Minnesota_,
                                                  "August 11, 1881.

     "_To the Editor--Saint Louis Globe-Democrat:_

     "Lake Itasca, for many years, has been regarded, both by
     geographical societies and map-makers, as well as by the public
     generally, as the source of the grandest of rivers--the mighty
     Mississippi. But geographical knowledge, like all other knowledge,
     is of little consequence if it is not progressive, and in its
     history we have seen the firmly-rooted beliefs of centuries torn up
     and tossed aside by the explorations and reasoning of intrepid
     travellers, who, respecting truth and facts more than mere theory,
     have accepted nothing without proof, merely because others have so
     accepted it. This is the ground occupied by Captain Willard Glazier
     in his explorations in search of the source of the Mississippi.

     "Starting for the headwaters of this great river in July last, he
     learned that the dense forests which surround the source of the
     Father of Waters were rarely penetrated by white men, or even by
     Indians, at any time except in winter, when lakes and rivers were
     frozen up, and the whole surface of the country covered with a
     mantle of snow.

     "He also heard through the interpreter and Indian guides who
     accompanied him that the aboriginal inhabitants of these primeval
     forests did not regard Itasca as the source; but, while rejecting
     it, differed among themselves as to what lake really was the
     fountain-head. Some claimed that the stream from Itasca was not
     itself the main stream, but flowed into the river proper some three
     miles below the lake. The stream to which it was tributary, though
     narrower, was, they claimed, deeper and swifter, bringing to the
     united streams more water than the one from Lake Itasca.

     "Others considered the Itascan stream as the main one, but spoke of
     another lake, broad and beautiful, which lay above Itasca and
     poured its clear waters into the accepted source through a small
     stream which entered the southern arm of Lake Itasca. Captain
     Glazier determined to thoroughly examine all this region, and to
     settle definitely and forever the true source of the Mississippi.

     "Acting in accordance with this resolution, he pushed on toward
     Itasca, intending to make it a starting-point for further
     exploration. Reaching this objective point after innumerable
     hardships, he camped on Schoolcraft Island, and after a day of rest
     directed operations toward the lakes and streams of the surrounding

     "Thoroughly surveying the stream that the Indians claimed to be the
     main one, he found it much inferior in volume to that from Itasca.
     This point settled, he closely examined the shores of Lake Itasca
     for tributary streams, finding but three of any importance. Of
     these three the one by far the largest came in at the extreme head
     of the lake, at a point where it is nearly filled with bulrushes.

     "Taking two canoes, Captain Glazier ascended this stream, which,
     though shallow, is rapid, yet so narrow in places that to jump
     across it would be an easy task. Following its windings, he entered
     what appeared to be a lake filled with rushes. Pushing through
     this barrier, however, the canoes soon glided out upon the still
     surface of a beautiful lake, clear as crystal, with pebbly bottom,
     and its shores covered with a thick growth of pine. This lake is
     formed in the shape of a heart, having but one marked promontory.
     Its greatest length is about two miles and its width a mile and a

     "Captain Glazier found that this fine lake was fed by three
     rivulets, which rose in swamps a few miles from the lake, and
     thoroughly convinced that this body of water was the true source of
     the Mississippi, he proclaimed it as such. Without waiting for
     discussion, the members of the party decided unanimously to call it
     Lake Glazier in his honor. Modestly expressing his thanks for this
     mark of their appreciation, Captain Glazier said that, though he
     firmly believed this lake to be the source of the river, he should
     relax none of his vigilance on the trip through the unknown part of
     the stream, but would carefully examine all water flowing into the
     Mississippi, in order to be positive as to the main stream."

       *       *       *       *       *

On reaching Hastings, Captain Glazier and his fellow-voyagers were
hospitably entertained by some of the leading citizens and Mr. Paine
addressed the following letter to the Editor of the _Hastings Gazette_:

                                                    "Foster House,
                                                "_Hastings, Minnesota_,
                                                "September 5, 1881.

     "_To the Editor of the Gazette:_

     "For many years the source of the Mississippi was as much a mystery
     as is at present that of the Nile. But when in 1832 Schoolcraft
     made his official exploration of the headwaters of this great
     water-course, and after a long and arduous journey up the stream
     reached a lake which he named Itasca, and pronounced it the head of
     the river, the matter was considered settled, and speculation was
     no longer rife in regard to this point. Now, however, it has been
     proved by Captain Willard Glazier beyond doubt that the lake which
     has so long enjoyed the honor of being the source of our greatest
     river had an honor it did not merit.

     "Going thither with the object of visiting the head of the river,
     Captain Glazier was led to suspect by the talk of his guides, one
     of whom, Chenowagesic, had hunted and trapped for years in the
     region around the source, that Lake Itasca had really no greater
     claim to be considered the head of the river than Cass Lake, or
     Bemidji or Winnibegoshish, all larger and finer lakes than Itasca.
     Above and beyond Itasca lay another lake. This, with its feeding
     springs, was the source of the mighty river, and this lake, if it
     existed, Captain Glazier resolved to visit and explore. After a
     long and severe journey he reached it, being the first white
     traveller to float upon its surface; and after thoroughly examining
     its feeders and the narrow stream through which it flowed into
     Itasca, he felt that he had found the _true source_ of the
     Mississippi. Nevertheless, he continued his explorations along the
     river below Itasca after passing through that lake, and satisfied
     himself thoroughly that the new lake was at the head of the main
     stream. In speaking of the source of the Mississippi, therefore, we
     should henceforth call it LAKE GLAZIER instead of Lake Itasca."

The following description of Lake Glazier from the pen of Channing Paine
appeared in the _Dubuque Herald_ of September sixth, 1881:

                              LAKE GLAZIER.

     "The new-found source of the Mississippi is a sparkling little gem
     of a lake, situated above and beyond Lake Itasca. It nestles among
     the pines of an unfrequented and wild region of Northern Minnesota,
     many miles from the nearest white settlement, and just on the
     dividing ridge which forms the great watershed of North America.
     Within a few miles of it can be found lakes and streams, whose
     waters are tributary to the Red River of the North and the
     Yellowstone, thus reaching the sea thousands of miles from the
     mouth of the mighty Mississippi, which flows in a limpid brook from
     LAKE GLAZIER. This lake, discovered to be the source of one of the
     greatest rivers of the world, by Captain Willard Glazier, on the
     Twenty-second of July, 1881, is about two miles in greatest
     diameter, and would be nearly round in shape but for a single
     promontory, whose rocky shores give it in outline the form of a
     heart. The waters of the lake are exceedingly clear and pure,
     coming from springs, some being at the bottom, but the three most
     prominent rise a few miles back, in low, wet land enclosed by
     sand-hills, and flow into the lake in little rills. On the very
     point of the promontory is a spring whose waters are as cold as
     ice, and at which the Glazier party slaked their thirst while
     exploring the shores of the new lake. So lonely is the region
     around the lake that for fourteen days not even a red-skin was
     seen, and wearied by the hardships of this rough country, yet with
     a feeling of having added something to geographical knowledge, the
     Captain and his party were glad to return to civilization."

       *       *       *       *       *

The Saint Louis _Post-Dispatch_ published the following, with several
other communications, from Mr. Paine:

                                                 "1310 Olive Street,

                                              "_Saint Louis, Missouri,_

                                                "October 10, 1881.

     "_To the Editor--Post-Dispatch:_

     "Lake Itasca has been considered to be the source of the
     Mississippi for so many years that any man who disputes its title
     to that honor is looked upon as a radical and one bent upon
     upsetting all our preconceived geographical ideas. Still it is a
     fact that Lake Itasca is _not_ the source, and has no greater claim
     to being called so than has Cass Lake or Lake Bemidji or Lake
     Pepin. This fact was discovered beyond all doubt by Captain Willard
     Glazier, who equipped an expedition last July and started for the
     headwaters of the Mississippi. Reaching Lake Itasca after a journey
     of great hardship, he camped on Schoolcraft Island, and, using this
     as a base of operations, he thoroughly explored the lakes and
     rivers which contribute their waters to the infant Mississippi. The
     various theories and stories heard from his Indian guides were
     considered as clues and faithfully followed up until their truth or
     falsity was ascertained. Success at length crowned his efforts, for
     a beautiful lake was found above Itasca, and in the direct line of
     the course of the river below Itasca, which lake proved to be the
     farthest water--the extreme head of the Mississippi. The lake,
     which the members of the expedition voted to call LAKE GLAZIER, in
     honor of their leader, is about two miles in diameter, with clear
     and beautiful water, fed by springs, and altogether one of the
     prettiest lakes of its size in Minnesota. The stream which flows
     from it into Itasca is quite rapid, though so narrow that in some
     places one can easily jump across it."

The following account of an interview with Mr. Paine is extracted from
the New Orleans _Democrat_ of November twentieth, 1881:

     "There arrived at the Jetties on the fifteenth a tiny cedar canoe,
     bearing aloft at the bows a pennant with the inscription _Alice_,
     and at the stern a United States flag. Its officers and crew
     consisted of Captain Willard Glazier, a distinguished writer, and a
     reportorial companion, Mr. Barrett Channing Paine, of the Saint
     Paul _Pioneer Press_, who had come all the way down the
     Mississippi, from its source, in this frail bark. Great, indeed,
     was the joy of the voyagers as they glided down to the mouth of the
     river, and saw the salt spray of the Gulf dash high over the
     seaward wall of the Jetties. After clambering up by the beacon, and
     standing gazing at the broad expanse of water, toward which they
     had been paddling for the last four months, until they were
     drenched by an unusually heavy wave, the two men again descended
     slowly, scarcely conscious that their long voyage was finished.
     Hailing a passing boat, they boarded her, and the light canoe was
     made fast behind and towed back to Port Eads, where the travellers
     were most hospitably entertained until the arrival of an inward
     bound steamship to bring them to New Orleans.

     "As this is by far the longest canoe voyage ever made, and extended
     the whole length of the Great River, some account of the
     expedition, its aims and incidents, cannot fail to be of interest.

     "A representative of the _Democrat_ had the pleasure of meeting
     Barrett Channing Paine, who accompanied Captain Glazier, and from
     him learned the following particulars of the voyage:

     "Captain Willard Glazier is a serious, soldierly-looking man, and a
     military author of repute. Among his best known works are 'Soldiers
     of the Saddle,' 'Capture, Prison-Pen and Escape,' 'Battles for the
     Union,' 'Heroes of Three Wars,' and 'Peculiarities of American
     Cities.' The Captain does not look like a man of thoughtless,
     adventurous disposition, and it seems strange at first that he
     should have made the voyage in the manner he did; but it looks
     sensible enough when his reasons are taken into consideration. The
     Captain made the trip avowedly for the purpose of study and
     observation, as he did his horseback ride across the continent,
     from Boston to San Francisco, in 1876. He wished to thoroughly
     understand the people of the great valley, their social conditions,
     industries and modes of life. He also expected to obtain much
     enjoyment from the changing scenery and climate. Had he travelled
     by steamboat or railway, he would have been whisked through the
     country in a week or so, and would have had absolutely no
     opportunity for obtaining an inside view of the condition of
     affairs. In addition to seeing the country, the Captain designed
     delivering a lecture prepared specially for the purpose on the
     'Pioneers of the Mississippi,' in all the important towns on his
     route. The lecture treated chiefly of the early explorers--De Soto,
     Marquette, La Salle, and Hennepin.

     "Actuated by these motives, he procured a fine cedar canoe of the
     Rushton model, which he shipped to Aitkin, the most northerly point
     on the river reached by rail. He then went forward, himself, to
     Saint Paul, accompanied by his brother, where he was joined by his
     present companion, and there made final preparations for the long

     "At Brainerd the party left the line of the Northern Pacific
     Railroad, and proceeded by wagon over a road, which was hardly more
     than a trail, to Leech Lake, where the Government has an Indian
     Agency. The country traversed was exceedingly wild, being almost
     without inhabitants, and covered with a growth of jack-pines. It
     being the blueberry season, quite a number of Indians were seen
     picking that fruit, which grows there in abundance. As a rule the
     braves lay in the shade, smoking or sleeping, while the squaws and
     children did the picking. At night they found a stopping-place at
     Pine River, and the following afternoon arrived at the Agency,
     where there are two trading-posts and a number of white men.

     "Here three birch-bark canoes were purchased, and the services of
     an equal number of Indian guides procured, one of whom also acted
     in the capacity of interpreter. All of these were required to reach
     the source of the river, which was a matter of great difficulty and
     some danger. Lake Itasca, which was then supposed by most people to
     be the source of the Mississippi, lay five days' journey away,
     through an almost impassable wilderness. Indeed, it was well-nigh
     impossible to find even an Indian who had visited it. But at last
     one was found in the person of Chenowagesic, a Chippewa brave, who
     consented to pilot the party to that lake.

     "On July seventeenth everything was in readiness, the three birch
     canoes were launched on Leech Lake, and the voyage had fairly
     commenced. After crossing Leech Lake the voyagers pushed up the
     Gabecanazeba River, which was filled with rushes and wild rice.
     Laboriously paddling through these, they reached another lake, and
     encamped for the night. Next morning this lake was crossed, and the
     first real hardship of the expedition confronted them in the shape
     of a portage. The provisions and luggage were taken out of the
     canoes and transported on the backs of the Indians across the
     country, a distance of three miles, through underbrush so thick
     that they could not see ten feet in advance. Five days were spent
     in this manner--first paddling across a little lake, and then
     making a long portage, until at last Lake Itasca was reached, and
     the party encamped on Schoolcraft Island. By this time the Captain
     felt convinced from the talk of the guides, particularly of
     Chenowagesic, the chief guide, whose words were translated to him,
     that Itasca was not the source of the Great River.

     "Determined to ascertain the truth, he proceeded at once to make a
     thorough exploration of the headwaters of the river, guided in a
     great measure by Chenowagesic, who had hunted and trapped for years
     in this region. Various streams joining the infant Mississippi were
     examined, and found to contain less water than that stream, thus
     establishing the fact that Itasca is on the main stream. Then a
     thorough exploration of the shores of the lake itself was made.
     Several creeks were found to enter it, the chief of which came in
     at the southern end of the south-western arm of the lake. Itasca,
     at this point, is filled with bulrushes, through which, with great
     difficulty, the explorers forced their way, but were rewarded by
     finding themselves in a clear, swift-running stream, having an
     average depth of about ten or twelve inches, and a width of about
     five feet. Up this tortuous stream the canoes were pushed and
     dragged, and finally the voyagers shot out upon the surface of a
     beautiful heart-shaped lake, which proved, upon careful
     exploration, to be the true source of the Father of Waters. After
     examining the shores, the party landed on a rocky point, and
     Captain Glazier made a short speech, expressing his confident
     belief that they had found the true source of the Great River, and
     added something to the geographical knowledge of the country. He
     was followed by Mr. Paine, who, after a few introductory remarks,
     moved that the new lake be called LAKE GLAZIER, in honor of the man
     by whom it had been discovered. This motion was adopted by the
     Captain's companions, and after drinking from a spring of ice-cold
     water which bubbled up at their feet, the party re-embarked. LAKE
     GLAZIER is about two miles in greatest diameter, with clear, deep
     waters and wooded shores, being altogether a prettier lake than
     Itasca and both wider and deeper, to whose honors, as source of the
     mighty Mississippi, it succeeds.

     "_Reporter._--Then which way did you proceed?"

     "_Mr. Paine._--From LAKE GLAZIER the descent of the river began.
     Below Itasca it runs in a northerly direction for a hundred miles
     or more, and then swings round to the eastward, finally bending
     toward the south, which general direction it afterwards maintains.
     For the first few miles it runs between rich meadows, and the
     canoeists expected from this that the voyage would be easy and
     agreeable. Such was not our fortune, however, for we soon found the
     river to be obstructed by snags, drift-wood and boulders of all
     sizes. Huge trees had in many places fallen completely across the
     river. These obstacles were surmounted in different ways. Sometimes
     the canoes could be pressed down and made to go under the logs;
     again, they would have to be carried around; sometimes the drift
     would be removed, and sometimes the canoes would be lifted over. At
     last they had to be carried across a portage for half a mile, then
     launched again, until at length the obstructions were passed.
     Meanwhile, and all through the journey, the mosquitoes hovered
     around us in clouds, making life a burden, and causing all the
     members of the expedition to forget their early Christian training.

     "Leaving the obstructions behind, we sped smoothly between the
     waving meadows once more lining the river. But a new hardship now
     threatened us--our rations gave out entirely, and most of the
     ammunition having become wet, starvation stared us in the face. To
     buy anything in that wild country was, of course, impossible. This
     danger was barely averted by the marksmanship of our leader, and
     the dexterity of the Indian guides, who would occasionally kill a
     duck with their paddles. We got down at last to 'hard pan,' and had
     gone without any breakfast or supper the day we reached Lake
     Bemidji. Here we were lucky enough to meet an Indian, who had a
     little flour and pork, and having replenished our larder, we
     crossed the lake and continued our course down the river.

     "A new danger now beset us in the shape of rapids which would occur
     every few miles, rendering canoe navigation extremely hazardous.
     Several times holes were stove in the thin birchen canoes, and a
     number of times we were precipitated into the water, but no one was
     dangerously hurt, and the guides were very deft in repairing the

     "A half-day's journey from Lake Bemidji is Cass Lake, a fine sheet
     of water, twenty miles in length by ten wide. The next day,
     Winnibegoshish, the largest lake of the Mississippi, was reached.
     It is twenty miles in diameter, and greeted us with a heavy sea,
     which nearly swamped us as we paddled across the corner to a few
     scattered wigwams which form the little Indian village on its
     banks. Two days we were wind-bound, getting away on the morning of
     the third. That night our camp was invaded by a number of hostile
     Indians, but, owing to our vigilance, bloodshed was avoided.

     "In three days more Pokegama Falls were reached, and we saw the
     first white man since leaving Leech Lake. Making a portage around
     the falls, we shot Grand Rapids a few miles below, and slept that
     night beneath the shelter of a roof. Nothing worthy of mention
     occurred between this point and Aitkin, which we reached in four
     days, and at last found ourselves within the bounds of
     civilization, and bade farewell to our Indian guides. Captain
     Glazier tried to induce these dusky sons of the forest to accompany
     him to the Gulf, but the stories they had heard of the alligators
     and snakes of the Sunny South terrified them, and they refused. A
     short rest was taken at Aitkin, and then we re-embarked in the
     pretty modern canoes which awaited us there. The descent of the
     river in these canoes was easy and pleasant. At all the principal
     towns the Captain delivered his lecture, 'Pioneers of the
     Mississippi,' which was listened to with great interest.

     "Between Aitkin and Saint Paul numerous and dangerous rapids were
     met, all of which were shot in safety; and the Falls of Saint
     Anthony reached without accident. Below Saint Anthony Falls the
     scenery is very beautiful, high bluffs arising with more or less
     abruptness from the water's edge.

     "Among other points of especial interest along the Upper
     Mississippi, Lake Pepin occupies the most prominent position after
     Saint Anthony Falls. Environed by majestic bluffs and with a length
     of thirty miles it forms a very beautiful sheet of water. But
     though beautiful it is treacherous, and the winds sweeping down
     between the high bluffs frequently make navigation on its waters
     perilous. In the morning when we reached its upper end we found to
     our dismay that the elements had possession, and the waves ran so
     high that a number of river steamers had been compelled to tie up
     and wait for the storm to subside. Captain Glazier, however, having
     a lecture appointment at Lake City, half way down the lake,
     determined to keep his appointment despite the weather, and
     ventured forth regardless of the warning of the river men. It took
     us all day to paddle a distance of sixteen miles, and many times it
     seemed that our frail boats would be engulfed by the waves which
     dashed over them; but the danger was passed in safety.

     "From this point things went smoothly until the canoe fleet was
     just below Winona, when a sudden and violent squall struck the
     boats and came near sending us to the bottom. Fortunately, this too
     was weathered, and then the only drawbacks encountered were the
     continuous and strong headwinds and the seas consequent upon them,
     which tried our nerves so frequently that they came at length to be
     naturally expected. While on the Keokuk Rapids the wind blew so
     strongly that it actually carried the boats up stream, and it was
     only by the hardest paddling that any downward progress could be

     "At La Crosse the expedition was reduced in number to the Captain
     and myself, who proceeded to the Gulf in the _Alice_. Some days
     were spent in all the principal towns. On October eighth Saint
     Louis was reached, and we were welcomed by the various boat-clubs
     of the city and congratulated on having completed the first great
     section of the navigable river. On October tenth we re-embarked and
     pushed on towards the mouth of the river. Everywhere we were
     received with the greatest cordiality. Cairo, Memphis, Vicksburg,
     Natchez and Baton Rouge were the chief halting places, but
     frequently night overtook us near some plantation house, and then
     we were the guests of the planters, and were entertained with true
     Southern hospitality.

     "Special occasion was taken by Captain Glazier to investigate the
     cotton and sugar crops, the relations of the white and colored
     races, and the future possibilities of the South; and with very
     gratifying results. At last New Orleans was reached.

     "As it was so near his journey's end, and as it was his intention
     to return as soon as he had passed through the Jetties, the Captain
     determined to pass the city on his downward trip without halting.
     This was accordingly done, and three days' paddling brought us to
     Captain Eads' great work. Remaining there a day we returned to the

     "Thus far Mr. Paine; and thus ended the longest canoe voyage ever
     made, and one which perhaps entailed more hardships on those who
     made it than any other on record. Starting from the cold springs at
     its source Captain Glazier followed the windings of the greatest
     river on our continent from the pine forests and the wheat lands of
     the extreme Northern States, through all the varying phases of
     climate and industries, to the cotton and sugar-cane section of the
     South; past the orange and banana groves, and on to the broad Gulf.
     Such a journey is full of interesting and strange experiences,
     pleasures and hardships intermingled, and has, Captain Glazier
     thinks, fully repaid the cost in time, money and labor of the

     "The canoe in which this long voyage was made has been presented by
     the Captain to the New Orleans Academy of Sciences.

     "It may be well to mention that no one else has ever traversed
     either in canoe, steamboat or otherwise more than two-thirds of the
     course of the Mississippi; and when it is taken into consideration
     that the distance is considerably over three thousand miles, and
     that the upper portion is filled with rapids, logs and other
     obstructions, it is not to be wondered at."


On his return to New Orleans from the Gulf, with the purpose of viewing
the great maritime city of the South, Captain Glazier was met by Dr. J.
S. Copes, President of the New Orleans Academy of Sciences. This
gentleman introduced him to Mayor Shakespear, and arrangements were at
once made for a public reception by the Academy. The following
interesting account of the ceremony is taken from the New Orleans
_Picayune_ of November twenty-first, 1881, and shows the estimate placed
on the Captain's exploratory labors by many of the most prominent
residents of the Crescent City:

     "The termination of the exploring expedition and canoe trip of
     Captain Willard Glazier, extending from his new-found source of the
     Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico, culminated, after a voyage of
     one hundred and seventeen days, in a very general and complimentary
     recognition and ovation on the part of the officials and citizens
     of New Orleans. In company with Dr. J. S. Copes, President of the
     Academy of Sciences, Captain Glazier was presented to His Honor,
     Mayor Shakespear was warmly welcomed, and the freedom of the city
     tendered him.

     "In appreciation of the generous hospitality extended to him, the
     Captain expressed a wish to present his beautiful canoe, which had
     safely carried him through his long voyage, to the Academy of
     Sciences, and the following letter accompanied the presentation:

                                                "'Saint Charles Hotel,
                                           "'_New Orleans, Louisiana_,
                                                  "'November 21, 1881.

     "'_Joseph S. Copes, M. D._,
        "'_President--New Orleans Academy of Sciences:_

     "'Dear Sir:--I have just concluded upon the border of the State of
     Louisiana a voyage of observation, exploration, and discovery; and,
     as you have expressed considerable interest in the results, and
     manifested a desire to possess the canoe in which the voyage was
     made, I find pleasure in presenting it to your honorable society as
     a souvenir of my expedition.

     "'During this canoe journey of over three thousand miles, beginning
     at the headwaters of the Mississippi and extending to the Gulf of
     Mexico, I had the satisfaction of locating the source of the Great
     River which we have traversed, and feel a pride in having corrected
     a geographical error of half a century's standing.

     "'I will not now enter into a detailed account of my explorations
     on the upper Mississippi, but shall take the earliest opportunity
     of transmitting to your Secretary a complete narrative of the
     voyage, which will be issued in book form as soon as the matter
     can be prepared for publication.

                     "'Very respectfully yours,
                                   "'Willard Glazier.'

     "A special meeting of the Academy of Sciences was held--Dr. J. S.
     Copes, President, in the chair--for the purpose of receiving from
     Captain Glazier the handsome cedar canoe _Alice_, with which he had
     navigated the Mississippi from Aitkin to the Gulf.

     "By invitation, Captain Glazier gave an account of his explorations
     on the Upper Mississippi, and especially of that section of country
     beyond Lake Itasca, a body of water which has hitherto been
     considered the fountain-head of the Great River.

     "Dr. Copes, in the name of the Academy, thanked Captain Glazier for
     his valuable gift, which would be highly prized, and then
     congratulated him upon his contribution to American geographical
     knowledge. In the course of his remarks, the learned doctor said
     that De Soto penetrated the continent of North America in pursuit
     of gold, and accidentally discovered the Mississippi. Marquette,
     the zealous missionary, traversed the river from the mouth of the
     Wisconsin to the mouth of the Arkansas. La Salle pursued his
     explorations from the mouth of the Illinois to the Gulf, his sole
     aim seeming to be the conquest of North America in the name of the
     King of France. Hennepin explored but a small section of the
     stream, extending from the mouth of the Wisconsin to Saint Anthony
     Falls; while Willard Glazier had made the discovery of its primal
     reservoir, and traversed its entire length from source to sea.

     "The members of the Academy listened with great interest to Captain
     Glazier's account of his explorations and discovery, and also to
     the historical address of the President.

     "Dr. J. R. Walker then offered the following resolutions:

     "'_Resolved_, That the thanks of this Academy are due, and are
     hereby tendered, to Captain Willard Glazier for the donation of his
     beautiful canoe, _Alice_, and for the brief narrative of his
     explorations at the source of the Mississippi River, and of his
     voyage thence to the Gulf of Mexico.

     "'_Resolved_, That this Academy not only gratefully accepts this
     handsome gift, but promises to preserve and cherish it as a
     souvenir of Captain Glazier's high qualities as an explorer and
     contributor to the increase of American geographical knowledge.'

     "Mr. H. Dudley Coleman then moved that a copy of the resolutions be
     appropriately written and framed, and presented to Captain Glazier;
     and that a committee of three be appointed to prepare the same.

     "The resolutions were unanimously adopted, when Dr. Copes appointed
     as the committee Messrs. Coleman, Walker, and Blanchard.

     "At the conclusion of the meeting, Mr. Coleman escorted Captain
     Glazier to the Washington Artillery Arsenal, and introduced him to
     Colonel J. B. Richardson, commanding the battalion, who extended to
     Captain Glazier the hospitalities of the battalion during his stay
     in the city."

       *       *       *       *       *


Captain Glazier returned to Saint Louis from New Orleans, having engaged
to deliver a lecture in that city on the "Pioneers of the Mississippi."
On his voyage down the river and visit to the city, he was unable to
remain long enough to fulfil the engagement, as winter was rapidly
approaching, and it was expedient to reach the Gulf as soon as possible.
Moreover, he wished to present one of his canoes--the _Itasca_--to the
Missouri Historical Society, in return for the hospitality he had
received during his previous brief visit; and it was arranged that the
presentation should take place on the night of the lecture. Accordingly,
on the evening of January fourteenth, 1882, an audience consisting of
members of the Historical Society, the Academy of Sciences, clergy,
officers and teachers of the public schools, and the several boat clubs
of the city, assembled at Mercantile Library Hall, to listen to his
lecture on the pioneer explorers of the Great River, and to witness the
presentation of the _Itasca_.

At eight o'clock, Captain Glazier, accompanied by Judge Albert Todd,
Vice-President of the Historical Society, appeared on the platform, and
the Judge introduced the lecturer in the following terms, as reported in
the local press:

     "Mark Twain wrote that in his Oriental travels he visited the grave
     of our common ancestor, Adam, and, as a filial mourner, he
     copiously wept over it. To me the grave of our common ancestress,
     Eve, would be more worthy of my filial affection, but, instead of
     weeping over it, I should proudly rejoice by reason of her
     irrepressible desire for knowledge. She boldly gratified this
     desire, and thereby lifted Adam up from the indolent, browsing life
     that he seemed disposed and content to pass in the 'Garden,' and
     gave birth to that spirit of inquiry and investigation which is
     developing and elevating their posterity to 'man's pride of
     place'--'a little lower than the angels'--by keeping them ever
     discontented with the _status quo_, and constantly pressing on to
     the 'mark of their high calling' beneath the blazing legend
     'Excelsior.' It is this ceaseless unrest of the spirit, one of the
     greatest evidences of the soul's immortality, that is continually
     contracting the boundaries of the unknown in geography and
     astronomy, in physics and metaphysics, in all their varied
     departments. Of those pre-eminently illustrating it in geography
     were Jason and his Argonauts; Columbus, De Gama, and Magellan; De
     Soto, Marquette, and La Salle; Cabot and Cook; Speke, Baker,
     Livingstone, and Franklin; and our own Ledyard, Lewis, Clarke,
     Kane, Hall, and Stanley. And this evening will appear before you
     another of these irrepressible discontents who would know what is
     still hidden, at any risk or privation.

     "Impelled by this spirit of enterprise, in search of truth, Captain
     Willard Glazier has discovered, at last, the true source of our
     grand and peerless river, the 'Father of Waters,' down which he has
     floated and paddled in frail canoes, a distance of more than three
     thousand miles, to its mouth in the Gulf of Mexico. One of these
     canoes is now placed here in your view, and will be presented
     to-night by its navigator to our Historical Society. Nearly two
     hundred years ago La Salle discovered the mouth of the Mississippi,
     yet only now in this year of grace, 1881, was ascertained its true
     fountain source.

     "This, the latest achievement of Captain Glazier, is only in the
     natural course of his antecedents. Born as late as 1841, he has
     already gone through the experiences of the Adamic labors of a
     tiller of the soil, the hard toils of the student and of the
     successful teacher; of the dashing and brilliant cavalry officer in
     the Union army through the whole period of our late war, from its
     disastrous beginning to its successful ending; of the sufferings of
     capture and imprisonment in the notorious 'Libby,' and other
     prisons, and of a daring and perilous escape from their cruel
     walls; of an adventurous tourist on horseback through the most
     civilized and savage portions of our continent, beginning with the
     feet of his horse in the waters of the Atlantic, and ending with
     their splash in the waters of the Pacific. He delivered lectures
     along his route wherever a civilized audience could be collected,
     and suffered capture by the Indians, with all its sensational
     romance and hideous prospects.

     "From the material of these antecedents he has written and
     published several books of singular interest and national value.

     "From this brief sketch we would naturally expect to see a stalwart
     man, massive and powerful in form and muscle. Our conceptions of
     men of big deeds is that they are also big. But David was a
     stripling when he slew Goliath of Gath. Napoleon was characterized
     by the society ladies of the period of his early career as 'Puss in
     Boots,' Our own Fremont and Eads would seem at sight capable of
     only the ordinarily exposed duties of life. Of like physique is the
     subject of this introduction.

     "Ladies and gentlemen, it is now my pleasant privilege to introduce
     to your acquaintance Captain Willard Glazier as the lecturer for
     the evening."

Captain Glazier then delivered his interesting historical lecture on the
"Pioneers of the Mississippi." The adventures and discoveries of De
Soto, Marquette, La Salle, Hennepin, Joliet, and others, including the
more recent explorers, Pike, Beltrami, Schoolcraft, and Nicollet, were
intelligently discussed, and the attention of all present absorbed by
the interest of the subject. He spoke of the ambition of De Soto to
found an empire like that of Cortez in Mexico; of his arrival on the
banks of the Great River, and finally of his death and burial in its
depths. Concerning Father Marquette, the lecturer dwelt upon the zeal
with which he preached the Gospel to the benighted Indians, and his
premature death and burial in the wilderness. La Salle was then
presented as an intrepid pioneer, pushing down the mighty river to plant
his banner on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, and taking possession of
the country through which he had passed in the name of the King of
France. The exploits of Hennepin, Joliet, and others were then
recounted, and the lecturer gave evidence of great familiarity with the
lives of these heroic pioneer explorers of the Mississippi. The
following letter was then read:

                                                 "1310 Olive Street,

                                             "_Saint Louis, Missouri_,

                                                 "January 14, 1882.

     "_Edwin Harrison, Esq.,_

        "_President Missouri Historical Society_:

     "Dear Sir:--In my recent canoe voyage down the Mississippi it was
     my good fortune to receive many courtesies at the hands of the
     press, boat clubs, and citizens of Saint Louis. This, coupled with
     the fact that you have expressed considerable interest in the
     result of my explorations, inclines me to present to you the
     _Itasca_, one of the canoes used in the expedition, for the museum
     of your Society, as a memento of my voyage and discovery.

     "During this tour of observation, extending from the headwaters of
     the Mississippi River to the Gulf of Mexico, I had the satisfaction
     of locating the true source of the mighty stream down which we
     paddled our canoes to the sea.

     "I am not now able to give you a detailed account of my voyage, but
     shall avail myself of the earliest opportunity to transmit to your
     Secretary a complete history of it, which will be issued in book
     form as soon as the material can be put in proper shape for

                            "Very truly yours,

                                                      Willard Glazier."

Captain Silas Bent, late of the U. S. N., accepted the canoe for the
society, in the following words:

     "Captain Glazier:

     "It becomes my pleasant duty to accept, for the Missouri Historical
     Society, this beautiful canoe, which has itself become historic by
     reason of the service it has rendered you. It shall be deposited
     with other treasured relics in our museum.

     "I have also to express to you the high appreciation in which the
     Society holds the valuable contribution to geographical knowledge
     resulting from your explorations among the headwaters of the
     Mississippi River, and your discovery of the remotest lake that
     contributes to the perennial birth of this hydra-headed 'Father of
     Waters,' whose genesis near the Arctic regions gives it a length of
     more than three thousand miles to the tropical gulf, to which it
     bears upon its ample bosom in safety the freightage of an empire.

     "I desire, too, to thank you for the interesting lecture just given
     us upon the achievements of the heroic old explorers, who have, in
     centuries past, preceded you in investigations of the
     characteristics of this river. But whilst past investigations have
     made us familiar with the general character of the stream, and the
     peculiarities of its many mouths, yet we know very little of its
     source; and should be gratified, I am sure, if you could give us,
     this evening, a brief account of the circumstances attending your
     explorations in that direction, and of the difficulties you had to
     encounter in the accomplishment of your object."

In compliance with Captain Bent's request that he would give some
account of the events connected with the expedition to the source of the
Mississippi, Captain Glazier then briefly narrated the leading incidents
of his voyage and explorations. At the conclusion, several gentlemen
came forward to congratulate him upon the practical results of his
undertaking and expressed their appreciation of the work he had
accomplished. The _Itasca_, which occupied a prominent position on the
platform, was duly inspected, and afterwards removed to the rooms of the
Historical Society.


A letter from Captain Glazier which appeared in the Saint Paul _Pioneer
Press_ in December, 1886, and was copied into several Eastern papers, is
here introduced as an epitomized narrative of the discovery. The journey
to the headwaters of the Mississippi, the launch of the canoes on Lake
Itasca, the search for its feeders and the finding of one larger than
the others which the Indian guides said flowed from another lake to the
south of it; the passage of the canoes up this feeder and the entrance
of the explorers upon a beautiful lake which they ascertained by
sounding and measurement to be wider and deeper than Itasca, and _the
veritable source of the Great River_; all this is succinctly told in the
following letter of the leader of the expedition, and we respectfully
commend its perusal to the reader:

     "_To the Editor--Pioneer Press, Saint Paul, Minnesota_:

     "I solicit the favor of replying through your columns to articles
     in one or two New York dailies calling in question my claim to have
     definitely located, in 1881, the true source of the Mississippi

     "When my attention was first drawn to the articles of those who
     seem so much exercised by my expedition to the headwaters of the
     Mississippi, I had no intention of replying, but have finally
     yielded to the reasoning of friends who feel that longer silence
     might possibly be construed to my disadvantage.

     "I am well aware that I assume grave responsibility in locating the
     source of the greatest river of North America and correcting a
     geographical error of half a century's standing, especially since I
     follow in the footsteps of such eminent explorers as Pike,
     Beltrami, Schoolcraft and Nicollet; and in view of the fact that I
     have presumed to pass the limit of their explorations.

     "For many years prior to 1881, I had been of the opinion that Lake
     Itasca occupied an erroneous position in our geography. In fact I
     had become satisfied through conversations with straggling
     Chippewas in the Northwest, that the red man's ideal river did not
     rise in the lake described by his white brother, but that there
     were other lakes and streams beyond that lake and that some day the
     truth of their statements would be verified.

     "Thoroughly convinced that there was yet a field for exploration in
     the wilds of Northern Minnesota I resolved, in 1876, to attempt a
     settlement of the vexed question concerning the source of the
     Mississippi at an early day. Finding the opportunity I sought in
     1881 I proceeded to Saint Paul in June of that year accompanied by
     Pearce Giles, of Camden, New Jersey. Here I was joined by my
     brother George, of Chicago, and Barrett Channing Paine, then an
     attaché of the _Pioneer Press_.

     "Having completed arrangements we moved from Saint Paul on the
     morning of July Fourth with Brainerd as our immediate objective.
     Short stops were made at Minneapolis, Monticello, Saint Cloud and
     Little Falls on our way up the river. Brainerd was reached July
     seventh. This enterprising town is situated near the boundary of
     the Chippewa Indian Reservation and is the nearest place of
     consequence to Lake Itasca. Here I again halted to further inform
     myself concerning the topography of the country; to decide upon the
     most practicable route to our destination, and to provide such
     extra supplies of rations and clothing as might be considered
     adequate to the requirements of our undertaking.

     "After consulting our maps I concluded that while Schoolcraft and
     Nicollet had found Itasca by going up the river through Lakes
     Winnibegoshish, Cass and Bemidji, a more direct course would be by
     way of Leech Lake and the Kabekanka River.

     "A careful study of the route to Leech Lake, with a few valuable
     suggestions from Warren Leland, of Brainerd, one of its oldest
     pioneers, led us to seek conveyance to the former place over what
     is known in Northern Minnesota as the Government Road. This road
     stretches for seventy-five miles, through immense pine forests, and
     the only habitations to be seen from it are the 'half-way houses'
     erected for the accommodation of teamsters who are engaged in
     hauling government supplies; and the occasional wigwams of
     wandering Indians.

     "While at the Leech Lake Agency it was our good fortune to meet the
     post-missionary, Rev. Edwin Benedict; Major A. C. Ruffe, the Indian
     Agent; Paul Beaulieu, the veteran Government Interpreter;
     White-Cloud, chief of the Mississippi Indians; Flat-Mouth, head
     chief of the Chippewas, and others well known at the Agency.
     Through conversations with these parties I learned that pioneers of
     that region were of the opinion that the lake located by
     Schoolcraft was the source of the Mississippi, but that the Indians
     invariably claimed that the Great River had its origin above and
     beyond Itasca, in a beautiful lake known to them as Pokegama,
     signifying the 'place where the waters gather.'

     "Beaulieu, who is perhaps the best authority in Minnesota, having
     lived for more than sixty years within its borders, said that
     Chenowagesic, who afterwards became my chief guide, was the most
     intelligent Chippewa of his acquaintance, had made his home for
     many years in the vicinity of the headwaters of the Mississippi,
     and that he had always asserted, when maps were shown him, that a
     lake above Itasca would in time change a feature of those maps and
     confirm his statement that Lake Itasca could not longer maintain
     its claim to being the fountain-head of the Great River.

     "Three days were spent at Leech Lake, during which time we secured
     an interpreter, Indian guides and birch bark canoes. Everything
     being in order we launched our canoes on the morning of July
     seventeenth. Wishing, as previously explained, to approach Itasca
     by a different route from that adopted by Schoolcraft and Nicollet
     who went up the Mississippi from Lake Winnibegoshish, I crossed
     Leech Lake and ascended the Kabekanka River, thence proceeding in a
     direct westerly course through twenty-one lakes, alternated by as
     many portages, reaching Itasca between two and three o'clock on
     the afternoon of the twenty-first. The region traversed, we were
     told by the guides, had never before been trodden by white men; and
     considering the nature of the country it is not to be wondered at,
     as swamps, floating bogs, and dense undergrowth were encountered
     throughout the entire journey.

     "The work of coasting Itasca for its feeders was begun at an early
     hour on the morning of the twenty-second. We found the outlets of
     six small streams, two having well-defined mouths, and four
     filtering into the lake through bogs. The upper or southern end of
     the south-western arm of Lake Itasca is heavily margined with reeds
     and rushes, and it was not without considerable difficulty that we
     forced our way through this barrier into the larger of the two open
     streams which enter at this point. This stream, at its mouth, is
     seven feet wide and about three feet deep.

     "Slow and sinuous progress of between two and three hundred yards
     brought us to a blockade of logs and shallow water. Determined to
     float in my canoe upon the surface of the lake towards which we
     were paddling, I directed the guides to remove the obstructions,
     and continued to urge the canoes rapidly forward, although opposed
     by a strong and constantly increasing current. On pulling and
     pushing our way through a network of rushes, similar to that
     encountered on leaving Lake Itasca, the cheering sight of a
     tranquil and limpid sheet of water burst upon our view.

     "This lake, the Chippewa name of which is _Pokegama_, is about a
     mile and a half in its greatest diameter, covers an area of two
     hundred and fifty acres, and would be nearly an oval in form but
     for a single promontory, which extends its shores into the lake, so
     as to give it in outline the appearance of a heart. Its feeders are
     three small creeks, two of which enter on the right and left of the
     headland, and have their origin in springs at the foot of sand
     hills from two to three miles distant. The third stream is but
     little more than a rivulet of a mile in length, has no clearly
     defined course, and is the outlet of a small pond or lakelet to the

     "The latitude of the lake in question is about 47°; its height
     above the Atlantic Ocean 1,582 feet, and its distance from the Gulf
     of Mexico 3,184 miles.

     "The statement that the lake now very generally accepted by
     geographers, and educational publishers as the True Source of the
     Mississippi was so regarded prior to the organization of my
     expedition cannot be substantiated; for, on the contrary, both
     press and people throughout Minnesota were ignorant of its
     existence, so far as we were able to ascertain by diligent inquiry
     from Saint Paul to Brainerd; and, in fact, I may add that the
     missionary, Indian agent, and post-trader at Leech Lake knew no
     other source of the Mississippi than Lake Itasca, except what they
     had been told by my chief guide, Chenowagesic, and a few other
     Chippewas in that vicinity. Barrett Channing Paine, fully confirms
     this statement in his letters to the Brainerd, Minneapolis, and
     Saint Paul papers of that period. These letters prove most
     conclusively that the people of Northern Minnesota had no knowledge
     whatever of the lake beyond Itasca until its existence was
     announced by me through the medium of the press in 1881.

     "If the assumption by some writers that the lake to the south of
     Itasca had been seen before my visit to that region in 1881 is well
     grounded, I need only say in reply that it had not been assigned
     any geographical importance prior to my visit; in other words, it
     had not been recognized by any one as the true source of the

     "When William Morrison, the fur-trader, pitched his tent on
     Schoolcraft Island in 1804, he evidently did not know that the
     outlet of the lake on which he looked was a part of the mighty
     river. Schoolcraft followed, at the head of an expedition
     twenty-eight years later, and claimed the lake as the source of the
     Mississippi. It is very generally admitted that Morrison had seen
     Itasca before Schoolcraft, but no one questioned that the latter
     was entitled to the credit of discovery, since he was the first to
     establish the fact that the Mississippi was its outlet. My claim to
     have definitely located the _true source_ in the lake beyond Itasca
     stands on precisely the same ground.

     "I do not desire to pass a reasonable limit in an effort to insure
     justice, but having consumed considerable time and money in
     locating lakes and streams in Northern Minnesota, and having
     established that the lake to the south of Itasca is the primal
     reservoir of the Mississippi, I do not feel disposed to allow
     myself to be thrust aside by those who know comparatively little or
     nothing of that region.

     "Assuming that the statements of my party are incontrovertible
     concerning the lake which we claim as the True Source of the Great
     River, it follows naturally:

     "I. That Lake Itasca cannot longer be recognized as the
     fountain-head of the Mississippi, for the reason that it is the
     custom, agreeably to the definition of geographers, to fix upon the
     remotest water, and a lake if possible, as the source of a river.

     "II. That the lake to the south of Itasca, and connected therewith
     by a perennial stream, is the primal reservoir or True Source of
     the Mississippi; that it was not so considered prior to the visit
     of my expedition in 1881; and that my party was the first to locate
     its feeders correctly, and discover its true relation to the Great

     "III. That Schoolcraft could not have seen the lake located by me,
     else he would have assigned it its true character in the narrative
     of his expedition.

     "IV. That Nicollet, who followed Schoolcraft, could not have been
     aware of its existence, as he gives it no place upon his maps, or
     description in the accounts of his explorations.

     "V. That the lake known as Pokegama by the Chippewas was not
     christened 'Glazier' by me, or through my instrumentality, but was
     so named by my companions, in opposition to my wish that it should
     retain its Indian appellation.

     "Finally, whatever the verdict may be upon the merits of my claim
     to have been the first to locate the _source_ of the Mississippi
     River and publish it to the world, if any person had seen this lake
     prior to 1881 it was certainly not known to the white residents of
     Northern Minnesota, or to the Indian tribes in the vicinity of its
     headwaters. Lake Itasca was still recognized as the fountain-head,
     was so placed upon maps, and taught as such in all the schools of
     the country.

     "I simply claim to have established the fact that there is a
     beautiful lake above and beyond Itasca--wider and deeper than that
     lake--with woodland shores--with three constantly flowing streams
     for its feeders--and in every way worthy of the position it
     occupies as the primal reservoir or TRUE SOURCE of the Father of

                                                     "Willard Glazier.
     Syracuse, New York, December, 1886."

       *       *       *       *       *

A letter from Pearce Giles, of Camden, New Jersey, who was identified
with the GLAZIER expedition from its inception to its close:

     "_To the Editor--Boston Herald_:

     "In 1832 Henry Rowe Schoolcraft led an expedition through the wilds
     of Northern Minnesota and discovered what he believed to be the
     source of the Mississippi. Being at a loss for an appropriate name
     to bestow upon the lake which constituted this supposed source, so
     the story goes, he asked a companion what were the Latin words
     signifying 'true head,' and received in reply '_veritas caput_.'
     This was rather a ponderous name to give a comparatively small body
     of water, even though the Father of Waters here took his first
     start in the world. The explorer, therefore, conceived the idea of
     uniting the last two syllables of the first word with the first
     syllable of the second, thus, by a novel mode of orthography,
     forming a name which might easily pass for one of Indian
     origin--_Itasca_. A person versed in orthographical science would
     probably perceive at once that the name did not belong to the same
     family of harsh Indian appellations which have affixed themselves
     permanently to many towns and rivers in Wisconsin and Minnesota,
     but was more allied to the softer language of southern Indian
     nations. But it has now been discovered that Lake Itasca is not
     _veritas caput_; and LAKE GLAZIER, discovered in July, 1881, by
     Captain Willard Glazier, must be regarded by all future generations
     as the true head of the Mississippi.

     "The Mississippi, on its first stages, flows in a northerly
     direction, the whole system of small lakes which contribute to it
     being surrounded on the north and west by an amphitheatre of hills.
     LAKE GLAZIER lies above and beyond Lake Itasca, and its waters have
     an elevation of probably seven feet above that lake, being
     connected therewith by a small, swift stream. Lake Itasca is
     composed of three arms, extending in the form of a trefoil, having
     a length of five miles and an average width of about one mile. The
     upper, or southern end of its middle arm apparently terminates in a
     swamp, which might easily have deceived any one not familiar with
     the country. But Chenowagesic, Captain Glazier's Indian guide, who
     had for years used the region of these lakes for his
     hunting-ground, readily made his way through the reeds and rushes
     at the mouth of the connecting stream. LAKE GLAZIER at its outlet
     presents another barricade of reeds, through which the party made
     their way in their canoes.

     "LAKE GLAZIER is about two miles in length by a mile and a half in
     breadth. Its shores, instead of being low and marshy, as are those
     of many of the neighboring lakes, present finely wooded slopes and
     surround the lake in what would have been the shape of a perfect
     oval, had not a bold, rocky promontory indented its southern end,
     and given to it the outline of a heart. On the point of this
     promontory is a spring from which flows ice-cold water. The waters
     of the lake are exceedingly clear and pure, proceeding from
     springs, some of them in the bottom of the lake itself, and the
     others at a greater or less distance from its shores.

     "LAKE GLAZIER has three small feeders, one of them named Eagle
     Creek, entering it near its outlet, and taking its rise a mile or
     so farther south, in a small pond or lakelet, upon which Captain
     Glazier bestowed the name of 'Alice,' after his daughter. Eagle
     Creek runs nearly parallel with the western shore of the lake, a
     little distance from it. Two streams, two or three miles in length,
     flow northward into LAKE GLAZIER at its southern extremity on
     either side of the indenting promontory. Excelsior Creek, so named
     because it represents the very highest water of the Mississippi, is
     the longer of these. Deer Creek, to the eastward, and rising a
     little nearer the lake, has been so named for the reason that
     numbers of deer were seen in its vicinity.

     "LAKE GLAZIER is thus supplied by three feeders, Eagle, Excelsior
     and Deer Creeks, now named in the order of their importance, and as
     uniting these waters in one common reservoir, this lake is
     undoubtedly entitled to be regarded as the _veritas caput_--the
     true head of the Mississippi.

                                                        "Pearce Giles.

     "Boston, August 6, 1886."

       *       *       *       *       *

We insert here an interesting letter from Paul Beaulieu, Interpreter to
the United States Indian Agency, White Earth, Minnesota. Mr. Beaulieu is
a very intelligent half-breed, about sixty years of age, and has lived
nearly all his life in the neighborhood of the headwaters of the
Mississippi. His testimony, therefore, upon a subject with which he must
necessarily be familiar, will have due weight with the inquiring reader:

                                              "U. S. Indian Service,

                                      "_White Earth Agency, Minnesota_,

                                                   "May 25, 1884.

     "_Dear Sir_:--I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your
     letter of the sixteenth instant. In reply, I would respectfully
     state that according to the ideas of the people of this section of
     country, for a score of years past, in alluding to Lake Itasca,
     which is known only as Elk Lake by the original inhabitants of this
     country, was never by them considered as the head or source of the
     Father of Running Waters, or May-see-see-be, as it is by them
     named. I have received a map showing the route of exploration of
     Captain Willard Glazier in 1881, and being well acquainted with his
     chief guide, Chenowagesic, who has made the section of country
     explored by Captain Glazier his home for many years in the past,
     and who has proved the truth of his often repeated assertion, when
     maps were shown him, that a smaller lake above Lake Itasca would in
     time change a feature of those maps, and proclaim to the world that
     Lake Itasca cannot longer maintain its claim as being the fountain
     head of Ke-chee-see-be, or Great River, which is called
     May-see-see-be, by the Chippewas. The map as delineated by Captain
     Glazier's guide, Chenowagesic, and published by the Glazier party,
     is correct; and it is plain to us who know the lay of this whole
     country (I mean by _us_, the Chippewa tribe in particular, also the
     recent explorers for pine) that LAKE GLAZIER is located at the
     right place, and is the last lake on the longest stream of the
     several rivers at the head of the great Mississippi.

                       "With respect, yours truly,

                                                     "Paul Beaulieu,

                                          "_U. S. Indian Interpreter_."

       *       *       *       *       *

An eastern correspondent addressed the following communication to the
Saint Paul _Dispatch_, in which he claims that the discovery of the
true source of the Mississippi should be credited to Captain Glazier:

     "_To the Editor--Saint Paul Dispatch_:

     "Having been a resident of Minnesota in 1855, I wish to say a word
     about Captain Glazier and his discovery. Minnesota, at the time of
     my residence there, was thinly settled. Minneapolis and Saint
     Anthony were both straggling villages. Saint Paul could boast of
     something like 10,000 population. The nearest railroad point to the
     latter city was one hundred and thirty miles distant. In winter
     Burbank's Northwestern Express carried the mails and the very few
     passengers that could muster courage to make the toilsome journey;
     and well do I remember my trip over this route. I know that, at
     that time, there was a question with the Sioux, Chippewas and many
     pioneers as to Lake Itasca being the source of the Great River.
     There was a settled opinion that something would be found beyond
     that would eventually prove to be the source of that stream. I
     believe Captain Glazier to have been actuated by a desire to
     establish the truth of this problem. Interested parties may seek to
     withhold from him his rightful due as a discoverer, but
     notwithstanding these attempts, in some schools in this region,
     LAKE GLAZIER is taught as the true source of the Mississippi. To
     attempt to discredit one who took front rank for the preservation
     of the Union, and who suffered in many rebel prisons, is altogether
     unworthy of the parties who are making themselves conspicuous in
     the matter.

                                                         "J. C. Crane.

     "West Millbury, Massachusetts, January, 1887."

       *       *       *       *       *

Letter from Mr. John Lovell, geographer and historian, and one of the
leading educational publishers of the Dominion of Canada:

     "Captain Willard Glazier:

     "_Dear Sir_:--I owe you an apology for not having earlier
     acknowledged your courtesy in sending me a copy of your remarkably
     interesting work 'Down the Great River.' Owing to illness and a
     variety of calls on my time, I had not an opportunity ere this of
     finishing the reading of it. I have no hesitation in saying that it
     is most interesting and instructive, especially where you so ably
     summarize the results of former expeditions, and where you describe
     in animated language the aim, course, and outcome of your own
     explorations. You have had an experience which has fallen to the
     lot of few travellers, and, in certifying the source of the Father
     of Waters, have rendered a great service to the cause of
     geographical discovery. The account of your voyage from the newly
     discovered Source to the Gulf of Mexico gave me much pleasure and
     information. The patience and endurance of the brave fellows who
     were with you, considering the distance, in canoes, is worthy of
     praise. Your own able management of the expedition is worthy of all
     commendation and of substantial and immediate thanks from the good
     men of your own wonderful country.

     "Again I sincerely thank you for your handsome and most acceptable

     "With sincere respect, I remain, dear sir,

                            "Yours faithfully,

                                                          "John Lovell.

     "Montreal, October 17, 1887."

The following letter will speak for itself. Mr. Gus. H. Beaulieu, of
White Earth, Minnesota, Deputy United States Marshal for the district,
is an educated half-breed, and cousin of Paul Beaulieu. His home is on
the Chippewa Indian Reservation, within sixty miles of the source of the
Mississippi. In this letter he presents the Indian theory as to the
comparative volume of water in the two lakes--GLAZIER and Itasca:

     "Captain Willard Glazier:

     "_Dear Sir_:--I have been somewhat interested in your discussion
     regarding the source of the Mississippi. Even had you never
     proclaimed to the world your discoveries, from information received
     by me from Indians and old mixed-blood Indian voyageurs, there
     would have always been a doubt existing with me as to whether
     Itasca was the head of the Mississippi.

     "Henry Beaulieu, a brother of Paul Beaulieu, always maintained that
     LAKE GLAZIER was the true source of the Mississippi. I remember
     that, after his return from Itasca with Mr. Chambers of the New
     York _Herald_, I think in 1872, he said that Winnibegoshish or Cass
     Lake might as well be called the source of the Mississippi as
     Itasca. Other mixed-blood have repeatedly stated the same thing. I
     mention this to show you what the general opinion is among Indians
     and those of mixed blood.

     "Chenowagesic's theory concerning the head of the Mississippi is
     this: That while Itasca presents a larger surface than LAKE
     GLAZIER, it does not contain as much water as the latter. He
     arrives at this conclusion from the fact that Itasca freezes over
     two or three weeks before LAKE GLAZIER. This, he says, is a sure
     sign that the latter lake is the deeper of the two, and contains
     more water. His arguments in favor of LAKE GLAZIER are rather
     novel, and, as a matter of course, are taken from an Indian's

                              "Yours truly,

                                                     "Gus. H. Beaulieu.

     "White Earth, Minnesota, December 17, 1887."


The evidence here presented in support of LAKE GLAZIER, is, in our
judgment, most conclusive; we may add, overwhelming. Many of the most
prominent citizens of the State in which the Great River takes its rise
volunteer their endorsement of a claim, of the merits of which, they
must necessarily be better informed than persons living at a remote
distance from the head of the river. State authorities, including the
Governor and his staff; senators and representatives, many of whom have
resided from twenty to forty years in Minnesota; pioneers, clergymen,
and school-teachers, with many of the leading citizens; editors,
school-superintendents, professional men, and others, strongly affirm
that Lake Itasca is not the source of the Mississippi, but that the lake
to the south of it, definitely located by Captain Glazier, is the primal
reservoir or _true source_ of the Father of Waters. These witnesses,
moreover, unequivocally assert that the credit of the discovery should
be awarded to the man who made it, notwithstanding the groundless
opposition of a few cavillers who have never themselves visited within
many hundred miles a region they affect to be so marvelously familiar

       _From His Excellency, A. R. McGill, Governor of Minnesota_:

     "Captain Glazier's claim to be the discoverer of the true source of
     the Mississippi seems reasonable, to say the least. I have been a
     resident of Minnesota twenty-six years, and never until Captain
     Glazier's expedition, heard the claim of Itasca being the source of
     the Great River seriously questioned."

       *       *       *       *       *

                 _From Hon. Horace Austin, Ex-Governor_:

     "I think that it would be a very proper thing to do under the
     circumstances that Captain Glazier's services should be recognized
     by the passage of a bill by the Legislature giving his name to the
     lake which is the real source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

         _From Hon. W. H. Gale, Ex-Lieutenant-Governor, Winona_:

     "I have been a resident of Minnesota for more than twenty-eight
     years, and I believe it was the generally accepted opinion of the
     people of this State that Lake Itasca was the source of the
     Mississippi River, until after the expedition of Captain Willard
     Glazier, and his publication to the world that another lake south
     of Lake Itasca was the true source, to which lake has been given
     the name of LAKE GLAZIER. This is now generally recognized as the
     _true source_ and head of the Mississippi, and Captain Glazier as
     the man who first made known that fact to the world."

       *       *       *       *       *

                  _From F. W. Seeley, Adjutant-General_.

     "I desire to say, in justice to Captain Glazier, that, having been
     a resident of Minnesota for twenty-five years, and quite familiar
     with the geography of the State, it is my belief that he was the
     first to discover the true source of the Mississippi River and
     publish it to the world."

       *       *       *       *       *

                 _From Moses E. Clapp, Attorney-General:_

     "From such information as I have on the subject, I am convinced
     that the actual source of the Mississippi had not been recognized
     prior to the published accounts of the explorations of Captain
     Willard Glazier."

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From H. W. Childs, Assistant Attorney-General:_

     "There is, in my opinion, no reason or ground for disputing Captain
     Glazier's claim to have located the body of water now undoubtedly
     regarded as the source of the Mississippi River, and appropriately
     named LAKE GLAZIER."

       *       *       *       *       *

        _From J. K. Moore, Private Secretary to Governor McGill:_

     "From the evidence, it seems clear to me that the actual source of
     the Mississippi River had never been recognized until Captain
     Glazier made its discovery in 1881."

       *       *       *       *       *

              _From Gus. H. Beaulieu, Deputy U. S. Marshal,
                           District of Minnesota:_

     "Having been born and raised in the State of Minnesota, and a
     resident of White Earth Indian Reservation, and being familiar with
     the Indian traditions, I certify that Itasca Lake had never been
     considered the source of the Mississippi by the best informed
     Chippewa Indians. Although I had never seen any published maps to
     the contrary, prior to the expedition of Captain Glazier in 1881,
     from the best information I have among the Indians, I now regard
     LAKE GLAZIER as the true source of the Mississippi River. I regard
     his chief guide, Chenowagesic, as the best authority among the
     Indians regarding the section of country about the headwaters of
     the Mississippi, and consider him thoroughly reliable."

       *       *       *       *       *

                 _From Ed. W. S. Tingle, St. Paul Globe:_

     "After a study of the literature of the subject, I am convinced
     that the lake to which the name of GLAZIER was given by the Glazier
     exploring expedition is undoubtedly the true source of the
     Mississippi, and that Captain Glazier was the first to call general
     public attention to the fact."

       *       *       *       *       *

    _From Rev. W. T. Chase, Pastor First Baptist Church, Minneapolis:_

     "There seems no reasonable doubt that the actual source of the
     Mississippi had never been recognized until Captain Willard Glazier
     made its discovery in 1881. Captain Glazier merits the gratitude of
     every citizen of the United States who is interested in knowing all
     that is knowable about the great Father of Waters."

       *       *       *       *       *

                 _From Ex-Mayor Pillsbury, Minneapolis:_

     "From the best information I have been able to obtain, I am
     satisfied that Captain Willard Glazier was the first person that
     discovered the true source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

 _From Rev. J. L. Pitner, Pastor Methodist Episcopal Church, Minneapolis:_

     "From the evidence I have examined, I am convinced that the real
     source of the Mississippi was not known prior to 1881. I am quite
     sure the claims of LAKE GLAZIER are not ill-founded, and that in
     its deep, cool bosom the Great River takes its rise."

       *       *       *       *       *

     _From John E. Bradley, Superintendent Public Schools, Minneapolis:_

     "From such examination as I have been able to give to the problem
     of the _true source_ of the Mississippi, it seems to be
     satisfactorily established that LAKE GLAZIER is to be so regarded."

       *       *       *       *       *

                      _From Hon. Samuel E. Adams,
          Member of the Minnesota Historical Society, Monticello:_

     "I have no doubt of the correctness of Captain Glazier's statement
     that he discovered the new source of the Mississippi now bearing
     his name."

       *       *       *       *       *

       _From John H. Elliott, Secretary Y. M. C. A., Minneapolis:_

     "I have no hesitation in stating that I believe LAKE GLAZIER to be
     the real source of the Mississippi River, and that Captain
     Glazier's claims are entitled to respectful and grateful

       *       *       *       *       *

            _From J. S. McLain, Evening Journal, Minneapolis:_

     "I have no reason to question the claim of Captain Glazier to have
     been the first to correctly map the section of country about the
     source of the Mississippi, or that the body of water which bears
     his name is the true source of the Great River."

                 _From Albert Shaw, Minneapolis Tribune:_

     "Unquestionably Captain Glazier may claim the credit of having
     called public attention to the fact that there is a lake beyond
     Lake Itasca which is more strictly to be considered as the source
     of the Mississippi. That the lake will always be called LAKE
     GLAZIER, and that it will henceforth be spoken of everywhere as the
     source of the Great River, I have no doubt; nor do I doubt the
     propriety of the name."

       *       *       *       *       *

    _From Judge John P. Rea, Commander-in-Chief G.A.R., Minneapolis:_

     "I have resided in Minnesota eleven years, and always supposed that
     Lake Itasca was the source of the Mississippi. I never heard the
     fact questioned until within the past four or five years. From all
     the evidence I have upon the subject, I am satisfied that LAKE
     GLAZIER is the true source."

       *       *       *       *       *

                        _From G. M. Wing, Secretary
                 North-West Indian Commission, Minneapolis:_

     "Concerning the real source of the Mississippi, I would say that
     the lake which Captain Willard Glazier has located, and which he
     claims to be the source, is no doubt more properly the true source
     of this Great River than Lake Itasca. There is no doubt whatever in
     my mind but that Captain Glazier was the first person to discover
     that fact, and make the same known to the world; and that fact
     alone, though it might have been visited before, should entitle him
     to the honor of naming the same. I have been over the route
     traversed by Captain Glazier and party, and find that the map which
     he has published is a correct delineation of that section."

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From Hon. J. G. Lawrence, Ex-Senator, Wabasha:_

     "I believe Captain Glazier is certainly entitled to the credit of
     having discovered the true source of the Mississippi in a lake
     above Lake Itasca, and now named LAKE GLAZIER."

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From Judge L. A. Evans, Ex-Mayor, Saint Cloud_

     "First Mayor of Saint Cloud, and have served six terms as such.
     Have resided in Saint Cloud for thirty years. I believe that LAKE
     GLAZIER is the true source of the Mississippi River, and this is
     the opinion of the majority of the people residing in this part of
     the State."

       *       *       *       *       *

_From Will E. Haskell, President and Managing Editor, Minneapolis Tribune:_

     "There can be no longer any doubt, when the question is carefully
     considered, that the credit of discovering the true source of the
     Mississippi belongs to Captain Willard Glazier. Captain Glazier's
     discovery has now become an accepted geographical fact, and future
     generations of school-boys will speak knowingly of LAKE GLAZIER, as
     we did in our youth of Itasca."

       *       *       *       *       *

                   _From J. O. Simmons, Little Falls._

     "Have been a resident of Little Falls for the past twenty-nine
     years; County Attorney and justice of the peace for several years;
     would state that I am personally acquainted with the half-breed
     Indian interpreter, Paul Beaulieu. Have known him since June, 1857,
     and know him to be a person of intelligence, great experience, and
     personal knowledge of the northern portion of Minnesota, which up
     to very recently has been a vast wilderness occupied only by the
     Chippewas. Have often conversed with him relative to the country
     north of us, and speaking of the Mississippi, have heard him say
     that Lake Itasca was not the fountain head; that there was a stream
     emptying its waters into Itasca from a lake a short distance above
     the latter, and which, in his opinion, was the true source. Since
     Captain Glazier's exploration, I accept the lake bearing his name
     as the true source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

       _From Rev. Andrew D. Stowe, Rector, Trinity Church, Anoka:_

     "This is to certify that from the testimony of Indians and
     Half-breeds living at White Earth Agency, Minnesota, during my
     residence there of two years, I am persuaded that LAKE GLAZIER,
     instead of Itasca, is the real source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

                       _From D. Sinclair, Winona:_

     "In the autumn of 1862 I spent several weeks in that portion of
     Northern Minnesota, extending from Crow Wing to Leech Lake, and the
     country about Red Lake, in company with Paul Beaulieu, the
     well-known Indian guide and interpreter. During a conversation as
     to the source of the Mississippi, Beaulieu informed me that Lake
     Itasca was not the real source of that river, but that a smaller
     lake, located a short distance south of Itasca, was entitled to
     that distinction. After investigating the matter recently, I have
     no doubt of the genuineness of Captain Glazier's claim to be the
     person who first publicly established the fact that the lake which
     now bears his name is the true source of the Mississippi River."

       *       *       *       *       *

                      _From William A. Spencer, Clerk
                 United States District Court, Saint Paul:_

     "I have resided in Minnesota upwards of thirty years, and until
     recently have always thought that Lake Itasca was the source of the
     Mississippi; but after an examination of the claim of Captain
     Glazier to be the discoverer of the true source, I am satisfied his
     claim is well founded."

       *       *       *       *       *

   _From O. C. Chase, Chairman County Commissioners, Otter-Tail County:_

     "From information received, I am fully satisfied that Captain
     Glazier was the first person to publicly announce the true source
     of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From John J. Ankeny, Postmaster, Minneapolis:_

     "From the best information I can obtain, I am persuaded that the
     source of the Mississippi had not been recognized prior to the
     published accounts of exploration by Captain Willard Glazier in
     1881. I think, therefore, he is entitled to the credit of the

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From P. P. Swenson, Sheriff, Hennepin County:_

     "After a residence of thirty-two years in the State of Minnesota,
     until recently I have always supposed that Lake Itasca was the
     source of the Mississippi River. I am now well informed of its true
     source being LAKE GLAZIER, having personally traversed that section
     of the State."

       *       *       *       *       *

               _From Freeman E. Kreck, Postmaster, Aitkin:_

     "I have been a resident of Aitkin County since 1881; have been
     County Auditor for past two years, and for a time proprietor and
     editor of the _Aitkin Age_. Since Captain Glazier's explorations I
     do not hesitate to say that I believe LAKE GLAZIER to be the true
     primal reservoir of the Mississippi, and I think I voice the
     sentiment of the majority of the residents of this section."

       *       *       *       *       *

              _From A. Y. Merrill, County Attorney, Aitkin:_

     "I believe that the lake claimed to have been located by Captain
     Glazier is the real source of the Mississippi River."

       *       *       *       *       *

                     _From J. W. Wakefield, Aitkin:_

     "Resident of Minnesota for thirty years. Personally acquainted with
     Chenowagesic. Indian trader more than fifteen years. Thoroughly
     familiar with the Chippewa language. I recognize LAKE GLAZIER as
     the true source of the Mississippi River."

       *       *       *       *       *

                _From Lyman P. White, Ex-Mayor, Brainerd:_

     "I have been a resident of Brainerd since 1870. Built the first
     house in Brainerd. Have had charge of the town site for the Lake
     Superior and Puget Sound Company for sixteen years. I met Captain
     Glazier on his Mississippi trip, and fully endorse his claim to
     have discovered the true source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

                     _From W. W. Hartley, Brainerd:_

     "Have been a resident of Brainerd for the past fifteen years.
     Editor and publisher of the _Tribune_ from 1875 to 1881, and
     postmaster from 1879 to 1886. Met Captain Glazier and his party
     here in 1881, both _en route_ to the source of the Mississippi
     River, and on their return voyage by canoes to its mouth. Have no
     recollection of ever having heard any other than Lake Itasca
     claimed to be the source of the Mississippi prior to the Captain's
     expedition. LAKE GLAZIER has since been accepted and is believed to
     be its source."

       *       *       *       *       *

                 _From J. H. Koop, Postmaster, Brainerd:_

     "Have been a resident of this State for sixteen years. Met Captain
     Glazier at the time he made his expedition of discovery to the
     source of the Mississippi, and I recognize the lake bearing his
     name as its true source."

       *       *       *       *       *

            _From N. H. Ingersoll, Editor, Brainerd Dispatch:_

     "I fully endorse the statement that Captain Glazier was the first
     to proclaim to the world the _true source_ of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

              _From Rev. Fletcher J. Hawley, D. D., Rector of
                    St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Brainerd:_

     "I have been a resident of Brainerd since 1880, and have not heard
     any one question the truth of Captain Glazier's claim to have
     discovered the true source of the Mississippi to be in LAKE

       *       *       *       *       *

         _From John F. Peterson, Register of Deeds, Minneapolis:_

     "I have resided in Minnesota for the past eighteen years, and fully
     believe that LAKE GLAZIER is the true source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

    _From C. P. De Laithe, Superintendent of Schools, Aitkin County:_

     "I recognize LAKE GLAZIER as the source of the Mississippi River.
     Have resided in Aitkin for several years."

       *       *       *       *       *

                     _From J. H. Hallett, Brainerd:_

     "I recognize the lake discovered by Captain Glazier as the real
     source of the Mississippi. Have been an Indian trader for the past
     fifteen years."

       *       *       *       *       *

                  _From Hon. N. Richardson, Little Falls,
                    Judge of Probate of Morrison County:_

     "I have resided on the banks of the Mississippi for thirty-one
     years. Met Captain Glazier at Little Falls with his exploring
     party, that visited the headwaters of this river in the summer of
     1881. From information derived from sources that I consider
     reliable, I regard LAKE GLAZIER as the true source of the Great
     River. Have been a member of the Minnesota Legislature for three

       *       *       *       *       *

    _From O. L. Clyde, First Lieutenant, National Guard, Little Falls:_

     "I have been a resident of Northern Minnesota for twenty years, and
     always supposed that Lake Itasca was the source of the Mississippi.
     I never heard any thing to the contrary until the year 1881, when
     Captain Glazier explored the Upper Mississippi, and made his report
     of the same. I now recognize LAKE GLAZIER as the true source of the
     Great River."

       *       *       *       *       *

                   _From Moses La Fond, Little Falls:_

     "LAKE GLAZIER is now considered the true source of the Mississippi.
     I am one of the old pioneers of this State, having resided in the
     northern section for over thirty-two years, and was a member of the
     Legislature in 1874."

       *       *       *       *       *

         _From R. Cronk, of the Government Survey, Sauk Rapids:_

     "This is to certify that I was compass-man on the survey of
     township 143 north, range 36 west of the 5th principal meridian,
     which embraces Itasca Lake, (the Indian name of which I understood
     to be _Omushkos_ or Elk Lake,) and hereby affirm that LAKE GLAZIER
     is the only well-defined body of water emptying into Lake Itasca,
     and in my opinion is the true source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

         _From Hon. T. G. Healey, Ex-State Senator, Monticello:_

     "Have resided in Monticello since 1856. I regard LAKE GLAZIER as
     the true source of the Mississippi River, and it is now so regarded
     by the people living in this section of Minnesota."

       *       *       *       *       *

    _From William Tubbs, Postmaster and Ex-County Auditor, Monticello:_

     "Have resided in Minnesota twenty-nine years. LAKE GLAZIER is
     regarded by the people generally of this section as the true source
     of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

      _From W. J. Brown, Principal of the High School, Monticello:_

     "I consider LAKE GLAZIER to be the true source of the Mississippi,
     and know of no other. I teach the same in the public schools of
     this place, as also do my assistants."

       *       *       *       *       *

         _From Commander A. H. Fitch, J. S. Cady Post, G. A. R.,
                     Department Minnesota; Anoka:_

     "I am fully convinced that the body of water, known as LAKE GLAZIER
     since 1881, is the true source of the Mississippi, and not Lake

       *       *       *       *       *

                  _From J. M. Tucker, M. D., Hastings:_

     "I believe Captain Glazier's claim to being the discoverer of the
     real source of the Mississippi is _just_, and have never heard it
     questioned. It must stand as one of the facts of history."

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From Daniel O'Brien, Police Justice, Hastings:_

     "I am satisfied that the lake to the south of Itasca, located by
     Glazier, in 1881, is the true source of the Mississippi, and that
     Captain Glazier is entitled to whatever credit there is in the

       *       *       *       *       *

                _From J. R. Lambert, Ex-Mayor, Hastings:_

     "It has been a generally accepted fact that Lake Itasca was the
     source of the Mississippi River, and like many others who have
     preceded me in giving testimonials in favor of Captain Willard
     Glazier's claim as the discoverer of a body of water now known
     quite generally as LAKE GLAZIER, and so represented in many of our
     standard geographical works, I cheerfully admit that Captain
     Glazier is entitled to credit as the discoverer."

       *       *       *       *       *

  _From S. Westerson, Chairman, Board of County Commissioners, Hastings:_

     "It seems to be clearly proven that there is a lake--now called
     LAKE GLAZIER--which is the true source of the Mississippi,
     discovered by Captain Willard Glazier in the year 1881, and that
     said Captain Glazier was the first man to make it public. The
     honor, therefore, in my estimation, is due to him."

       *       *       *       *       *

         _From B. B. Herbert, Editor, The Republican, Red Wing:_

     "After a careful examination of the claim made for and against the
     reputed discovery of the head of the Mississippi, by Captain
     Willard Glazier, I am convinced that he was the first to question
     the received statement that Lake Itasca was its source; and first
     to connect the lake, which some respectable geographers have
     called by his name, with the Mississippi as its source. Having
     lived in Minnesota, on the banks of the Mississippi, for nearly
     thirty years, had any other person claimed to have discovered any
     other source than Lake Itasca, I should have been informed

       *       *       *       *       *

                      _From W. W. DeKay, Red Wing:_

     "From such information as I have upon the subject, I regard the
     lake located by Captain Glazier, to the south of Itasca, as the
     true source of the Mississippi. I have resided in Minnesota for
     thirty-three years."

       *       *       *       *       *

       _From William Moore, Superintendent of Schools, Lake City:_

     "Knowing the facts in regard to Captain Glazier's discovery of the
     true source of the Mississippi, as brought out by public
     discussion, I am convinced that he is justly entitled to be
     considered the discoverer of the source of the Mississippi River."

       *       *       *       *       *

                _From George C. Stout, Mayor, Lake City:_

     "I have no doubt that Captain Glazier is fully entitled to the
     honor of first discovery of the true source of the Mississippi

       *       *       *       *       *

                _From D. O. Irwin, Postmaster, Lake City:_

     "I am convinced that the actual source of the Mississippi had not
     been recognized before the published account of explorations by
     Captain Glazier; and I regard LAKE GLAZIER as the true source of
     the Great River."

       *       *       *       *       *

   _From H. L. Smith, Editor and Proprietor of the Graphic, Lake City:_

     "I am fully convinced that LAKE GLAZIER is the real source of the
     Father of Waters. Have resided in Minnesota seventeen years."

       *       *       *       *       *

                 _From F. J. Collins, Mayor of Wabasha:_

     "I have no doubt that Captain Glazier is fully entitled to the
     credit of having discovered the true source of the Mississippi
     River. I have resided in Minnesota thirty-one years."

       *       *       *       *       *

        _From Hon. James G. Lawrence, Ex-State Senator, Wabasha:_

     "I believe Captain Glazier is certainly entitled to the credit of
     discovering the true source of the Mississippi, in a lake above
     Lake Itasca, now named after him, LAKE GLAZIER."

       *       *       *       *       *

           _From D. L. Dawley, Principal of Schools, Wabasha:_

     "I believe Captain Glazier to be the real discoverer of the true
     source of the Mississippi River."

       *       *       *       *       *

                  _From S. B. Sheardown, M. D., Winona:_

     "I believe that Captain Glazier is entitled to the credit of
     discovering the real source of the Mississippi River. I have been a
     resident of Minnesota over thirty-one years."

       *       *       *       *       *

     _From Judge A. F. Storey, St. Vincent:_

     "I have no hesitancy in saying that there can be no question, but,
     that LAKE GLAZIER is the true and primal source of the Mississippi

       *       *       *       *       *

       _From James A. Thompson, Postmaster, Leech Lake (the nearest
                post-office to the source of the Mississippi):_

     "I am of opinion that LAKE GLAZIER is the source of the
     Mississippi. I have talked on this subject with some of the Indians
     who accompanied Captain Glazier on his exploring expedition in
     1881, and they all say it is the last lake; that they went all the
     way in their canoes, and could go no further. It is the general
     belief here that LAKE GLAZIER is the true source."

       *       *       *       *       *

     _From Paul Beaulieu, United States Interpreter, White Earth Indian

     "I would respectfully state that according to the ideas of the
     people of this section of country, for scores of years past, in
     alluding to Lake Itasca, _which is known only as Elk Lake by the
     original inhabitants of this part of the country_, was never by
     them considered as the head or source of the Father of Running
     Waters, or May-see-see-be, as it is by them named. I received a map
     showing the route of exploration of Captain Willard Glazier, 1881,
     and being well acquainted with his chief guide, Chenowagesic, who
     has made the section of country explored by Captain Glazier his
     home for many years in the past, and who has proved the truth of
     his often repeated assertion, when maps were shown him, that a
     smaller lake above Lake Itasca would in time change the feature of
     those maps, and proclaim to the world that Lake Itasca cannot any
     longer maintain its claim as being the fountain head of
     Ke-chee-see-be, or Great River, which is called May-see-see-be, by
     the Chippewas. The map as delineated by Captain Glazier's guide,
     Chenowagesic, and published by the Glazier party, is correct; and
     it is plain to us who know the lay of this whole country (I mean,
     by _us_, the Chippewa tribe in particular, also the recent
     explorers for pine) that LAKE GLAZIER is located at the right
     place, and is the last lake on the longest stream of the several
     rivers at the head of the great Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *


The discovery and final location of the source of the Great River of the
North American Continent by Captain Glazier has received general
recognition in this country and in Europe, and our aim to place before
the reader of this volume, material to assist him in forming his
judgment on the validity of the author's claim, would not be attained if
we omitted to include in these _addenda_ the following evidence, the
nature and weight of which we think should carry conviction to the mind
of every impartial critic.

A report of the discovery was duly sent to Hon. Charles P. Daly,
President of the American Geographical Society, New York, and by him
forwarded to the Editor of the _New York Herald_, and published by that
paper, accompanied by a map of the region explored, showing the true
source of the Mississippi.

A report was also sent to the Royal Geographical Society, London,
England, and the following courteous reply received:

                                           "Royal Geographical Society,

                                        "_London_, January 12, 1885.

     "Captain Willard Glazier, New York, U. S. A.

     "_Dear Sir:_--We owe you an apology for delaying so long
     communicating with you on the subject of your interesting letter
     and its accompanying map; a delay caused by the long summer
     vacation of our council, which commenced a little before the
     arrival of your letter.

     "I am happy to be able to send you a copy of the January number of
     the Proceedings of our Society, containing your letter and map, and
     trust you will find no error has crept in.

     "Your discovery was considered a distinct addition to our knowledge
     of the geography of the Mississippi basin, and well worthy of
     publication by the Society, and I am directed to thank you for
     having communicated this brief account of it to us.

                         "Your obedient servant,

                                                   "H. W. Bates,

                                    "_Assistant Secretary and Editor_."

       *       *       *       *       *

George W. Melville, the famed Arctic Explorer, writes:

                                          "_Philadelphia, Pennsylvania_

                                                "February 5, 1885.

     "Captain Willard Glazier:

     "Dear Sir:--Your very interesting paper and map of the discovery
     of the source of the Mississippi came to hand this morning. Having
     but a single number of your paper I can form but an inadequate idea
     of your labor and patience, except by a look at your map, which is
     a very good one, and shows an immense amount of labor; in fact I am
     astonished at the amount of work done in so short a space of time
     as is shown on your track chart.

     "I am gratified at being made the recipient of your favor; and with
     sentiments of the highest esteem and regard for a worthy brother in
     the world of science,

                   "I am, dear sir, very respectfully,

                                                "George W. Melville,

                                       "_Chief Engineer, U. S. Navy_."

       *       *       *       *       *

                _Geographers and Educational Publishers._

Many of the geographers and educational publishers of the country have
not only made the necessary changes in their maps of Minnesota, but have
expressed their recognition and acceptance of the GLAZIER discovery in
letters addressed to friends of the Captain and others interested in
arriving at the truth of this important question. Among these may be

Rand, McNally & Company, George F. Cram, and George H. Benedict &
Company, Chicago; Matthews, Northrup & Company, Buffalo; A. S. Barnes &
Company, New York and Chicago; University Publishing Company, New York;
Charles Lubrecht, New York; M. Dripps, New York; W. & A. K. Johnston,
Geographers to the Queen, Edinburgh, Scotland; MacMillan & Company,
London and New York; Nelson & Sons, New York and Edinburgh, Scotland;
Gaylord Watson, P. O'Shea and George H. Adams & Company, New York; W. M.
Bradley & Brother, Philadelphia; School Supply Company, John A. Boyle,
Boston; J. K. Gill & Company, Portland, Oregon; John Lovell & Son,
Montreal, Canada; Map and School Supply Company, Toronto, Canada; F. A.
Brockhaus, Leipsic; A. Hartleben, Wein, Austria; and many others.

The following extracts are from BARNES' COMPLETE GEOGRAPHY by the
eminent geographer, Professor James Monteith:

           _Page 4. "Record of Recent Discoveries and Events._

     "The source of the Mississippi River is LAKE GLAZIER, a small lake
     from which water flows into Lake Itasca, which until recently was
     thought to be its source."

       *       *       *       *       *

           _Page 73. "North Central States (Western Section)._

     "Recent surveys have shown that LAKE GLAZIER is about seven feet
     higher than Lake Itasca, into which the former discharges its
     water; and it is now recognized as the source of the Mississippi

  _"Maury's Manual of Geography, University Publishing Company, New York:_

     "Page 56. Minnesota is crossed by the ridge or 'Height of Land'
     which separates the Valley of the Mississippi from the northern
     slope of the Great Central Plain. On this elevation, 1,600 feet
     above the sea, both the Mississippi and the Red River of the North
     take their rise, the one flowing south and the other north. The
     crest of the 'Height of Land' is crowned with lakes of clear water.
     LAKE GLAZIER, one of these, is the source of the Mississippi...."

       *       *       *       *       *

 _From Herr F. A. Brockhaus, Geographer and Publisher of Leipsic, Germany:_

     "I shall not fail to recognize and call public attention to your
     important discovery of the True Head of your Great River."

       *       *       *       *       *

       _From Professor J. W. Redway, of Philadelphia, a well-known
                            geographer and scientist:_

                                    "_Philadelphia_, September 9, 1887.

     "Captain Willard Glazier:

     "_My Dear Sir:_-- ... You will have the satisfaction of knowing
     that by your exertions and enterprise an error of more than fifty
     years standing has been made apparent. The world owes you a debt
     for determining an important question in geography.

                            "Sincerely yours,

                                                        "J. W. Redway."

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From the Messrs. Harper & Brothers, New York:_

     "Recent exploration and survey establish the fact that Lake Glazier
     has the best claim to the distinction of standing at the head of
     the Father of Waters. School Geographies generally are being
     corrected to show it."

       *       *       *       *       *

     _From Rand, McNally & Company, Map-makers and Publishers, Chicago:_

     "As to the source of the Mississippi, we gave it considerable
     attention in preparing our new map of Minnesota, and finally fixed
     it as LAKE GLAZIER. This, we consider, has the best claim."

       *       *       *       *       *

         _From George F. Cram, Map and Atlas Publisher, Chicago:_

     "I mail you to-day a copy of the corrected map of Minnesota,
     showing LAKE GLAZIER as the source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

   _From Matthews, Northrup & Company, Art Printers, Buffalo, New York:_

     "We regard LAKE GLAZIER as the true source of the Mississippi, and
     are so showing it on all maps, etc., issued by us."

       *       *       *       *       *

           _From Messrs. Cowperthwait & Company, Philadelphia._

     "We have added LAKE GLAZIER to our School Maps as the source of the

       *       *       *       *       *

     _From E. A. Lawrence, University Publishing Company, New York:_

     "We think LAKE GLAZIER is important enough to outrank Itasca as the
     source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

              _From W. M. Bradley & Brother, Philadelphia:_

     "LAKE GLAZIER appears on our large Atlas of the World, and on
     Mitchell's Atlas, as the true source of the Mississippi."

       *       *       *       *       *

       _From John Lovell & Son, Educational Publishers, Montreal:_

     "The collection of testimonials from leading citizens of Minnesota,
     and others, tells convincingly in Captain Glazier's favor."

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From MacMillan & Company, London and New York:_

     "Pray accept our very cordial thanks for your courtesy in sending
     us the map of the true source of the Mississippi. We are forwarding
     it on to our London house, who will gladly avail themselves of the
     information it conveys."

       *       *       *       *       *

        _From Gaylord Watson, Map and Chart Publisher, New York:_

     "I shall show LAKE GLAZIER as the source of the Mississippi on my

       *       *       *       *       *

_From P. O'Shea, Catholic Publisher, New York:_

     "I have come to the conclusion that LAKE GLAZIER is the true source
     of the Mississippi, and intend to give it as the source in the new
     editions of my geographies."

       *       *       *       *       *

          _From Geo. H. Adams & Son, Map Publishers, New York:_

     "We recognize LAKE GLAZIER as the True Source of the Mississippi
     River, and believe that Captain Glazier's claim to its discovery is
     now admitted by all the leading Map Publishers of the country."

       *       *       *       *       *

            _From the Map and School Supply Company, Toronto:_

     "We consider LAKE GLAZIER the source of the Mississippi River, and
     are having it appear on all our latest maps as such."

       *       *       *       *       *

          _From Captain A. N. Husted, Professor of Mathematics,
                 State Normal School, Albany, New York:_

     "Captain Willard Glazier:

     "_My Dear Sir:_--I have been much interested in your trip to the
     beginning of the Father of Waters, and feel that you have
     contributed a valuable item to the great volume of geographical

       *       *       *       *       *

  _From Colonel George Soulé, President of Soulé, College, New Orleans:_

     "I recognize the correctness of Captain Glazier's claim, and shall
     teach that the source of the Mississippi is LAKE GLAZIER."

       *       *       *       *       *

           _From Rev. L. Abernethy, A. M., D. D., President of
                 Rutherford College, North Carolina:_

     "I am satisfied that LAKE GLAZIER is the true source of the
     Mississippi and that Captain Glazier is entitled to the honor of
     its discovery."

       *       *       *       *       *

             _From J. L. Smith, Map Publisher, Philadelphia:_

     "Having given considerable attention to the merits of the claim
     presented by Captain Willard Glazier to have definitely located the
     source of the Mississippi, I am of the opinion that the lake to the
     south of Itasca should be recognized as the primal reservoir or
     true fountain-head of that river, and that Captain Glazier is
     entitled to the credit of having been the first to discover this
     fact and call public attention to it."

       *       *       *       *       *

  _From G. H. Laughlin, A. M., Ph. D., President of Hiram College, Ohio:_

     "Captain Glazier has rendered an invaluable service to the science
     of geography. I am glad that the school geographies are being
     corrected so as to indicate LAKE GLAZIER as the source of the
     Father of Waters."

       *       *       *       *       *

      _From the firm of W. & A. K. Johnston, of Edinburgh, Scotland,
                 Geographers and Engravers to the Queen:_

     "You have the satisfaction of having done a great work in settling
     the vexed question of the source of your mighty river. For this,
     all interested in geography are indebted to you."

       *       *       *       *       *

            _From Charles Lubrecht, Map Publisher, New York:_

     "I shall show LAKE GLAZIER as the source of the Mississippi River
     in all future editions of my Maps."

       *       *       *       *       *

                _From M. Dripps, Map Publisher, New York:_

     "I will avail myself of Captain Glazier's discovery by showing the
     True Source of the Mississippi on future editions of my maps of the
     United States."

       *       *       *       *       *

  _From George H. Benedict & Co., Map, Wood and Photo-Engravers, Chicago:_

     "LAKE GLAZIER is now acknowledged to be the True Source of the
     Mississippi, and in the course of time will appear as such on all

       *       *       *       *       *

           _From John S. Kendall, President of the National School
                       Furnishing Company of Chicago:_

                                          "_Chicago_, October 6, 1887.

     "Captain Willard Glazier:

     "_Dear Sir:_--Your book 'Down the Great River' has been received
     and read with interest. I am glad to see the entire narrative in
     book form. There is no doubt about your expedition having added
     largely to our rather limited stock of information regarding the
     country around the headwaters of the Great River. I deem it a
     graceful and fitting compliment to give your name to the lake south
     of Itasca.

     "Thanking you for the book, which I have placed in my library.

                        "Yours very respectfully,

                                                    "John S. Kendall."

       *       *       *       *       *

          _From Frederick Warne & Company, Publishers, London:_

     "Pray accept our very cordial thanks. The alteration in the source
     of your great river has been noted, and we shall gladly avail
     ourselves of the information to make the correction in our

       *       *       *       *       *

           _From Thos. Nelson & Sons, Edinburgh and New York:_

     "The correction as to the True Source of the Mississippi will be
     made as opportunity occurs, when issuing new editions of our

       *       *       *       *       *

    _From Herr A. Hartleben, one of the leading Publishers of Germany:_

     "I congratulate Captain Glazier on his important discovery of the
     source of the Mississippi River, and shall have great pleasure in
     bringing the subject to the notice of our Geographical Society."

       *       *       *       *       *

              _From Appleton's Annual Encyclopedia--1885:_

     "Lake Itasca, which has been distinguished as the head of the
     Mississippi for fifty years, must, it seems, yield that distinction
     to a smaller lake about a mile and a half in length by a mile in
     width, lying further south, discovered by Captain Willard Glazier
     in, 1881, and named for him 'Lake Glazier.'"

       *       *       *       *       *

        _From American Supplement to the Encyclopedia Britannica:_

     "The Mississippi has its source in LAKE GLAZIER, south of Lake
     Itasca, Minnesota, 47° 34' N. lat, 95° 2' W. long. The greatest
     width of this lake is a mile and a half, and it is deeper than
     Itasca, with which it is connected by a shallow stream about six
     feet wide."

       *       *       *       *       *


The Press, as the most important indication and expression of public
opinion, has been almost unanimous, since 1881, in sustaining Captain
Glazier's claim, more especially the Press of Minnesota; while the
majority of the leading papers of the East have pronounced strongly in
his favor. We can insert here only a few notices, taken chiefly from the
journals of the Northwest.

       *       *       *       *       *

                          _Saint Paul Dispatch._

     "Captain Glazier has just published the record of his experiences
     in his undertaking to establish that the true source of the
     Mississippi is not that which geographers have heretofore accepted
     as such, to wit: Lake Itasca. It is indisputable that Captain
     Glazier did proceed to a higher point than any reached by previous
     explorers, and that the body of water located by him and now known
     as LAKE GLAZIER, is a direct feeder of the generally accredited
     head of the Mississippi. The _Dispatch_ has always claimed for the
     writer of this book the honor of being the discoverer of the true
     source of our Great River. There certainly is a great deal in his
     work to substantiate his claim, and to sustain the attitude taken
     by the _Dispatch_.

     "...Captain Glazier set out to test the correctness of the
     generally accepted theories of scholars as to the place of the rise
     of this Great River; he made the test and found, as we believe,
     that those theories were not correct. He has given to the world the
     record of that work, and has done much to perpetuate his own name

       *       *       *       *       *

                         _Minneapolis Spectator._

     "'Down the Great River,' by Captain Willard Glazier, gives an
     account of the discovery of the lake now generally asserted to be
     the source of the Mississippi; also a description of a canoe voyage
     during the summer of 1881, from the source to the mouth of the
     Father of Waters. A journey of over three thousand miles by canoe,
     and on a single stream, is in itself an arduous and remarkable
     undertaking, and one seldom, if ever, paralleled. Captain Glazier
     presents not only reasonable evidence to support his claim as the
     discoverer of the true source of the Great River, but gives an
     entertaining and instructive narrative of his researches and
     adventures, thus affording a graphic history and description of the

       *       *       *       *       *

                           _Brainerd Dispatch._

     "'Down the Great River,' by Captain Willard Glazier, is an account
     of the author's voyage in 1881, from the source to the mouth of the
     Mississippi River in a canoe. It is a very interesting and
     instructive narrative from beginning to end; the descriptions of
     the scenery through which the river passes being unusually fine. In
     this volume the Captain presents his claim of having discovered
     beyond Lake Itasca another lake which is connected with Itasca by a
     well-defined stream, and consequently is the true source of the

       *       *       *       *       *

                _Northwestern Presbyterian, Minneapolis._

     "All who live in the valley of America's greatest river will be
     especially interested in knowing something of its source, its
     course, and the cities that line its banks. Since De Soto first
     discovered the Father of Waters in 1541, many eminent explorers
     have been associated with its history. Marquette, Joliet, La Salle,
     Hennepin, La Hontan, Charlevoix, Carver, Pike, Cass, and Beltrami
     preceded Schoolcraft. The last named discovered a lake which he
     supposed to be the source, but the Indians and the missionaries
     said there was a lake beyond. A learned few believed them. It
     remained for some explorer to make further investigation and
     publish the truth more widely to the world. This was done by
     Captain Glazier in 1881, who visited the lake, explored its shores
     and found it to be wider and deeper than Itasca."

       *       *       *       *       *

                           _Winona Republican._

     "Captain Glazier, who has won fame as the discoverer of the true
     source of the Mississippi, has recently published a good-sized
     volume entitled 'Down the Great River.' ... Very few persons
     realize that a man who passes from the source of the Mississippi to
     its mouth experiences a greater variety in scene, in populations,
     and in climate, than would an explorer going from the source to the
     mouth of any other river in the world.... The narrative of Captain
     Glazier is interesting, because it gives a panoramic view of the
     Mississippi from its source to its mouth, describing the appearance
     of the river wherever tributaries enter, and noting the character
     of the Indians, fur-traders, pioneers, frontiersmen, and the
     agricultural and commercial communities along its course. There is,
     too, a spice of personal adventure in such a journey, because for
     the greater part of the trip the Captain was accompanied by only
     one other person, and the novelty of riding in a canoe over every
     mile of one of the greatest rivers in the world, in itself gives a
     peculiar character to the record of the journey. The story is
     simply the narrative of life in a canoe floating down the
     Mississippi, supplemented by such historical recollections and
     reminiscences as have seemed appropriate to one who is an
     enthusiast in the history of exploration...."

       *       *       *       *       *

                         _Minneapolis Star-News._

     "On the 22d day of July, 1881, the traveler and author, Captain
     Willard Glazier, discovered a silvery lake nestled among the
     pineries of Northern Minnesota and situate about a mile and a half
     to the south of Lake Itasca. He also discovered that a swift
     current flowed continuously from his new-found wonder to what was
     supposed to be the source of the Father of Waters. The lake is
     known to the Indians as _Pokegama_, and when it was reached by the
     Glazier party they were much surprised by Chenowagesic, an Indian
     chief, who had accompanied them as guide, addressing Captain
     Glazier as follows:

     "'My brother, I have come with you through many lakes and rivers to
     the head of the Father of Waters. The shores of this lake are my
     hunting ground. Here I have had my wigwam and planted corn for many
     years. When I again roam through these forests, and look on this
     lake, source of the Great River, I will look on you.'

     "Captain Glazier was induced to explore the true source of the
     Mississippi by Indian traditions which he had picked up while
     traveling across the continent and which denied Schoolcraft's
     theory of Itasca.... Fortified with the idea that Schoolcraft was
     in error he set out to discover the true source of the Father of
     Waters, and how he succeeded forms the subject of the first five
     chapters of his very interesting book. The remainder of the book,
     an interesting and instructive volume of nearly five hundred pages,
     is devoted to a trip 'down the Great River' to the Gulf of Mexico.
     To Captain Glazier is due all the honor and glory of discovering to
     modern geographers the true source of our great river."

       *       *       *       *       *

                     _Detroit Commercial Advertiser._

     "'Down the Great River' is Captain Willard Glazier's interesting
     record of his expedition in 1881 in search of the source of the
     Mississippi River. It is a very exciting narrative from beginning
     to end, is profusely illustrated and will be especially interesting
     to students of geography, as well as to all interested in matters
     of exploration and discovery. Captain Glazier undoubtedly
     accomplished a great work. The source of the Mississippi had ever
     been an unsettled question, unsatisfactory attempts at discovery
     having been made and various ill-founded claims put forward; but
     the subject for the last half century has been constantly agitated.
     It remained for Captain Glazier to finish the work begun by De Soto
     in 1541, and positively locate the true fountain-head.... That the
     lake from which the Great River starts, known by the Indians as
     Lake Pokegama, should be re-named LAKE GLAZIER, seems an
     appropriate honor for the resolute explorer...."

       *       *       *       *       *

                    _La Crosse Republican and Leader._

     "'Down the Great River' is the title of a book just issued which
     possesses many claims to popular favor. No one on the North
     American continent will be at a loss to identify the river by its
     title; the Amazon undoubtedly discharges a larger volume of water
     into the sea, and the Volga is claimed to be longer. No river in
     the Old or New World is surrounded by so many associations, or is
     so identified with the memories of discoverers and adventurers,
     warrior-priests and saintly soldiers, peaceful pioneers and
     devastating armies, as the Mississippi.... For half a century Lake
     Itasca has been accepted as the fountain-head of the Great River,
     but Captain Glazier having had reasons for doubting the correctness
     of that theory, undertook, in 1881, to verify or disprove it, and
     the book treats of his adventures on that mission and his
     subsequent voyage by canoe down its entire length from its source
     to its mouth, a distance of three thousand one hundred and
     eighty-four miles.... The voyage, embracing as it does over
     seventeen degrees of latitude, furnishes material for the
     description of strongly contrasted scenery and greatly diversified
     industries, and in depicting these the Captain has the pen of a
     ready writer, simple and concise...."

       *       *       *       *       *

                      _Michigan Christian Advocate._

     "'Down the Great River' is a book of great current interest. It is
     packed full of things people ought to know. Not only is there a
     full and well-written account of the finding of the true source of
     the Mississippi, but a wonderful amount of fact and incident picked
     up along its shores from its headwaters clear down to New Orleans
     and the Gulf of Mexico."

       *       *       *       *       *

                            _Detroit Tribune._

     "This interesting work gives an account of the discovery of the
     true source of the Mississippi River, by the author. From the first
     page to the last the book teems with information and topographical
     and geographical data to be found nowhere else. Captain Glazier
     carries his readers along with him from the source of the mighty
     river down through a stretch of over three thousand miles clear
     into the salt waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The author made the
     trip in an open canoe, and as he proceeds downwards discourses
     pleasantly upon the features of the landscape, the characteristics
     of the people and the important towns upon the banks of the Great

       *       *       *       *       *

                    _Grand Rapids (Michigan) Leader._

     "Lake Itasca has been the accredited head of the Mississippi for
     fifty years, and the author's desire to pursue further
     investigations into the great north country was due to conflicting
     reports published by other navigators and explorers of discoveries
     made in that region. He decided to investigate the matter
     personally. The author describes in an entertaining manner the
     incidents of each day as the journey proceeded towards Lake Itasca.
     Here a careful survey of the lake was made for feeders, several of
     which were found, and up the largest of which the party forced
     their way through a strong barrier of rushes. After a short passage
     a body of water was found Which the Indians called Lake _Pokegama_,
     but which the Captain's companions named GLAZIER in honor of the
     head of the expedition. They then floated down the river in their
     canoes to the Gulf, and the events of each day form very
     interesting and often thrilling chapters as they are described by
     the author."

       *       *       *       *       *

                         _New Bedford Standard._

     "In 1881 Captain Glazier made a canoe voyage of over three thousand
     miles from the headwaters of the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico,
     and this book gives an interesting account of the voyage, together
     with a description of the cities and villages along the river
     banks, not omitting important historical events or quaint bits of
     legendary lore. While the book is of special value to the young
     student of geography and history, it is none the less valuable to
     all who are interested in geographical science, particularly in the
     question of the source of the Mississippi River...."

       *       *       *       *       *

              _Madisonensis, Madison University, New York._

     "Captain Glazier has commanded the attention of educated men
     generally by asserting and satisfactorily proving that he has at
     last discovered what De Soto, Marquette, La Salle, Schoolcraft, and
     other explorers, were unable to find--the true source of the
     Mississippi. The journey of exploration is here minutely described,
     and the account is enlivened with bright narratives of personal
     experiences. The author is an able writer, and a keen critical
     observer, and the information collected, pertaining to the people
     and country along the course of the Great River, from its
     headwaters to the Gulf of Mexico, is of value to every student of
     our country's history. The book is more than a mere description of
     an expedition--it is an epitomized collection of historical,
     geographical and commercial matters interesting to all."

       *       *       *       *       *

                    _Hamilton, New York, Republican._

     ... "The important fact brought out is, that Lake Itasca,
     discovered by Schoolcraft in 1832, and by him located as the
     fountain-head of the river, has no just claim to that title.
     Glazier's expedition has brought public notice to another lake at a
     remoter distance from the mouth than Itasca, which is united to the
     latter by a constantly flowing stream.... It now seems that the
     prominence Itasca has had so long must hereafter be given to LAKE

       *       *       *       *       *

                           _Davenport Tribune._

     "This work embraces an account of the discovery by the author of
     the true source of the Mississippi. It is an interesting tale of
     how Captain Glazier and his party pursued a voyage in canoes up the
     stream which flowed into Itasca, and finally located the real
     source of the river in a new lake, which was named by his
     companions LAKE GLAZIER. The work is a valuable one and highly
     instructive, and should be read by all residents of the Mississippi

       *       *       *       *       *

                  _Daily Eagle, Grand Rapids, Michigan._

     ... "It seems most surprising that it should have been reserved for
     so recent a date as 1881 to discover the true source of the
     greatest river of our continent, especially within the borders of a
     territory that has been a State for nearly forty years. But such is
     the fact, and to Captain Glazier belongs the honor of the discovery
     among white men."

       *       *       *       *       *

                _Telegram-Herald, Grand Rapids, Michigan._

     ... "Captain Glazier, in his search for the true source of the
     Mississippi, has corrected a geographical error of half a century,
     and located the fountain-head in a lake above and beyond Lake
     Itasca. He discovered this lake on the t