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.
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
_Transcript_:
"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
discovering.
"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
history."
* * * * *
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
son.
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,
Willard.
[Illustration: Headwaters Of The Mississippi.]