"And the night shall be filled with music,
And the thoughts that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as quietly steal away."
Our hearts beating with high hopes and expectant joys, we once more
settled down to happiness in Milwaukee. A joyful trio were we, my husband,
Hattie and myself. Our location in the Lake House, then one of the most
popular little hotels in the city, augured well for a pleasant sojourn.
Mrs. Towle, the proprietress, was one who had deeply drank of the cup of
sorrow, the first draught coming from the hand of one who had vowed her
his love and protection, and who, after twenty-five years of wedded life,
deserted her. When, with apparent penitence, he returned to her, he was
received to her forgiving heart, and then came the draining of the bitter
dregs in a second desertion.
With her two children as her only dower, she patiently took up the burden
of life, and bravely bore all, supporting and educating her two daughters,
and never losing dignity or caste.
No more delightful summer resort could be found than Milwaukee, familiarly
known as the "Cream City," from the light straw or creamy tint of the
brick, which forms so large a part in the architecture of that city, and
gives an air of charming cleanliness to the buildings. This shade is said
by chemists to be the result of the want of the usual element of iron in
the clay of which it is made, and so curious is it to strangers that it
has become a familiar saying that few people leave Milwaukee without
carrying away "a brick in their hats," this being doubtless in part a
jesting allusion to the apparently all-pervading spirit of the gay
Gambrinus apparent there and the numberless manufactories of the foaming
lager. Yet methinks this is no longer a more striking characteristic there
than elsewhere, in spite of the predominant German element.
The word "Milwaukee" signifies rich land, and the truthful significance of
the appellation is amply testified by the rare flowers, green gardens,
fertile fields and towering forests in and around it, all of which are the
outgrowth of its soil of rich alluvial loam.
Milwaukee is a city whose animus is in striking contrast to the daring,
dashing spirit of Chicago, but its substantial wealth, cash basis, and
slow, careful, steady progress, have led it on to sure success, so well
attested by the quiet and substantial elegance of its business buildings,
the palatial proportions and exquisite finish of its private dwellings,
with their appropriate appointments of cultivated conservatories, gorgeous
gardens and rare works of art. The well stored libraries evince an
advanced degree of cultivation, and the literary coteries a prevailing
element of the dilletante spirit, while the plain, rich habiliments, and
the elegant turnouts with liveried attendants, indicate a degree of
fashion and style unknown in many larger cities; and their manufactories
and business houses suggest great mercantile advancement, their elevators
and shipping a high order of commercial greatness.
Their harbor is one of the finest in the world, and by travelers is said
to resemble that of the beautiful Naples. Indeed, the extended view from
the drive upon Prospect Street is without a rival. Beautiful Boulevardes
were then in quite advanced process of construction, and in time must rank
among the most shaded, flowery walks and drives in the world.
Swiftly sped the summer hours in fair Milwaukee, with its gay gladiolas
and blue skies, its crystal waters and grand old forests, until it ceased
to be a wonder why so many health and pleasure seekers made it a resort,
and that it became, during the warm season, a fashionable watering place.
One of our most frequent rendezvous was upon the lake shore, where, in a
sweet secluded spot, far away from the throng which resorted there, a
rough log for a seat, we were wont to sit for hours, listening to the
music of the bands upon the excursion boats as they came and went with
their scores of pleasure seekers, and the still more harmonious melody of
the waves as they rose and fell at our feet in low, soft, musical murmurs.
Among the many attractions of Milwaukee is that of one of the several
noble institutions erected by our Government and known as National
Soldiers' Homes.
It is located four miles west of the city, and is accessible both by
Elizabeth Street and Grand Avenue, two of the most delightful drives of
Milwaukee.
Its eight hundred acres are beautifully enclosed and finely cultivated,
being laid out by one of its former chaplains, according to the most
artistic rules of landscape gardening; every coil and curve of avenue
being a line of beauty, and its fifteen miles of drive startling the eye
with its grouping of lake and garden, bridge and stream, fern-clad ravines
and sunny heights.
Amid its dense groves are fairy pavilions, in which its maimed and scarred
veterans discourse sweet music by a silver cornet band, without one
grating sound or discordant note.
Without the rigid discipline of active array life, these veterans have
sufficient military discipline for comfort and order, and one cannot fail
to remark the systematic precision which characterizes the performance of
their daily duties.
I cannot say all I should like to say in regard to these institutions, but
suffice it to say that I found many sympathizing and some old friends
among the blind, and was glad to learn that these soldiers, as a class,
ranked among the most cultivated inmates.
I cannot close my chapter upon this subject without alluding to the
magnanimous generosity of the Milwaukeeans in their donation of one
hundred thousand dollars to the National Home Fund, the proceeds of a
Sanitary Fair, in which white hands and deft fingers, faithfully and
patriotically wrought, for the benefit of the disabled soldiers, and few
cities could boast of a nobler donation. I must also allude to the high
appreciation in which the Homes are held by foreign dignitaries.
Miss Emily Faithful, the fair amanuensis and confidential friend of Queen
Victoria, while visiting America in an official capacity, spent a day in
socially visiting and carefully inspecting the Soldiers' Home of
Milwaukee. Astonished and entertained she pronounced it the most
pleasurable day she had spent in this country.
The Grand Duke Alexis left upon its register the only autograph written in
person in a public place, bestowing upon the institution the most
extravagant encomiums, both himself and his suite of traveled and titled
gentlemen pronouncing it a wonder and a marvel!
The Reverend Doctor Smythe, of Dublin, Ireland, when in attendance upon
the Evangelical Alliance, visited the Soldiers' Home of Dayton, Ohio.
Examining its magnificent libraries, seventy thousand dollar chapel and
its hospital, the finest in the world, he was spell-bound. Going to its
music hall and listening to its band, inhaling the perfume of its
conservatories, visiting its grottoes, bowers and springs, rowing on its
lakes, seeing its aviaries with birds of all varieties of plumage and
song, and driving in its parks inhabited by buffalo, elk, antelope and
over five hundred deer; he exclaimed with evident fervor, "In the _Old
Country_, libraries, conservatories, bands and parks are for the nobility;
in the new world they are for the soldiery." And what nobler compliment
could he have paid to our country and its institutions?