DAVENPORT TO DES MOINES.
One Hundred and Forty-fifth Day.
Farm House,
Near Blue Grass, Iowa,
October 3, 1876.
Weather cold, but clear and bracing. Mounted Paul at three o'clock P. M. and halted at the office of The Democrat, to say good-bye to Colonel Russell. On the road I overtook S. N. Garlock, a farmer, who invited me to spend the night at his house, which I agreed to do and was made very comfortable. I soon discovered that Mr. Garlock was a native of the Empire State, but came to Iowa twenty-seven years ago, and was now the owner of a prosperous farm near the village of Blue Grass. He spoke of visiting his old home in the East and his intention to proceed by way of Philadelphia and spend a day or two at the Centennial Exposition. He said that many Western people were making arrangements to go to the "Exposition" and at the same time visit their old homes and the old folks whom they had not seen for many long years.
One Hundred and Forty-sixth Day.
Iowa House,
Moscow, Iowa,
October Fourth.
Moscow is a small agricultural hamlet twenty-nine miles west of Davenport, with a population of less than three hundred, but increasing in number as the surrounding region is occupied. On the road here from Blue Grass I found the weather becoming very cold and was compelled to dismount several times and walk some heat into my body. The country is rich in fertility of soil—generally rolling prairie. The villages along the road are said to be growing very rapidly.
One Hundred an Forty-seventh Day.
St. James Hotel,
Iowa City, Iowa,
October Fifth.
Reached here at six o'clock P. M., fifty-five miles from Davenport. Weather, most of the day, cold, cloudy and generally disagreeable. I learn upon inquiry that the land about here for miles is, for the most part, settled by a thrifty, intelligent and enterprising people, and is well adapted to all the wants of the agriculturist. The railroad brings all the produce into market and farmers and manufacturers have their labors rewarded. The soil is a rich, black loam, and often, I am told, from five to ten feet in depth.
Had supper and retired to my room to attend to my correspondence.
One hundred and forty-eighth Day.
St. James Hotel,
Iowa City, Iowa,
October Sixth.
The weather continued extremely cold. Babcock completed necessary arrangements with the proprietor of Ham's Hall for my lecture the following evening. In the meantime I took a look at the city which was for many years the State capital. Its most salient feature appeared to be the State University, in which both sexes continue their education with commendable zeal, under competent professors. There are also a high school, a female college, a commercial college and several common schools. Four or five daily and weekly newspapers keep up the interest of the people in local affairs and national politics; and four banks encourage the thrifty to place their spare cash with them at interest. Woollen and flax manufactures give employment to a considerable number of young people, and the mills are said to be in a flourishing condition.
The city has a large internal trade as well as with the several surrounding villages.
One hundred and forty-ninth Day.
St. James Hotel,
Iowa City, Iowa,
October Seventh.
The former State House is a fine and capacious building and an ornament to the city. On the removal of the seat of government to Des Moines, one hundred and twenty miles farther west, the building with its extensive grounds was granted by the Legislature to the State University.
I also noted several large places of business here, including dry goods, groceries and hardware. There are several lumber yards, flouring mills, plow factories, iron foundries, for manufacturing machinery; also due proportion to the population.
The newspapers published here are, according to all accounts, ably conducted and well sustained. The surrounding country is well adapted to all the wants of the agriculturist and is thickly settled.
In the evening I delivered my promised lecture to a very full house—Hon. G. B. Edmunds introducing me to the audience. The walls were covered with flags and a profusion of flowers greeted me on my arrival on the platform.
One hundred and fiftieth Day.
Tiffin House,
Tiffin, Iowa,
October Eighth.
Mounted Paul in front of the Saint James to continue my journey and felt the need of an overcoat. Drew rein at Tiffin, a few miles from Iowa City. Of Tiffin little more can be said than that it has a rustic population of about fifty souls. The accommodations at the Tiffin House I must leave to conjecture, as any description would fall short of the reality. The only guests were a Methodist parson, two farmers on an expedition in quest of apples, and an overland tourist. The nabob of the village came into the public room in the course of the evening—a farmer and former State senator. This "Hon." gentleman engrossed our attention for about three hours by a long-winded description of the varieties of the "genus hog"—how to breed, how to feed and fatten, and how to drive him to market; all of which would probably have been edifying and elevating to the average Tiffinite, but it made me and the parson drowsy and I retired to dream of hogs and fat bacon until awakened by the daylight.
One hundred and fifty-first Day.
Grand Pacific Hotel,
Marengo, Iowa,
October Ninth.
In my journey from Tiffin I found it necessary to dismount several times and walk in order to drive away the sensation of cold. Reached Marengo in the evening and registered at the Grand Pacific Hotel. Winter seemed to be approaching with rapid strides at this time and I was warned that it was necessary to lose as little time as possible at the different resting-points.
AN IOWA VILLAGE.
Marengo is eighty-five miles from Davenport. There is a good bridge crossing the Iowa River here, which adds much to the facilities for doing business. A thriving community of farmers occupy the surrounding land. Among the most important villages and towns in this and adjoining counties, are Newton, Grinnell, Montezuma and Millersburg, all growing in size and importance. Marengo is the county-seat of Iowa County, and contains a population of nearly two thousand.
The State of Iowa, taken as a whole, is one of the most fertile in the United States. The native prairies are fields almost ready-made for the farmers' hands; their rich black soil returning him reward for his labor a hundred fold.
One hundred and fifty-second Day.
Skinner House,
Brooklyn, Iowa,
October Tenth.
My ride to-day from Marengo has been over fine prairie land with occasionally a farm in the distance like an oasis in the desert. Brooklyn is one hundred miles from Davenport and, as some evidence of its prosperous condition, has four hotels. I was fortunate in selecting the Skinner House, the proprietor of which knows how to make his guests comfortable. Paul also seemed happy to-night when I shut him in a clean and well-appointed stable with his supper.
Brooklyn is a village of over twelve hundred inhabitants, and wears the impress of success. There are several grain elevators, foundries, flour mills and business houses of all kinds; also graded schools, banks, and daily and weekly papers. The streets are clean and well paved, which is more than can be said for its Eastern namesake. The surrounding farms are large and well cultivated, and the country presents a most attractive appearance.
One hundred and fifty-third Day.
Moore House,
Kellogg, Iowa,
October Eleventh.
In front of the Skinner House, Paul caused me some little anxiety by dashing up the street from the front where I had left him with loose rein for a moment while settling my bill. Coming back he gave me to understand, by a toss of his head, that he only wanted to shake a little dust from his feet. I was soon mounted and off at a gallop, covering thirty miles, when I stopped at a farm house for dinner.
On reaching the outskirts of Grinnell, I hailed a party of boys who were "playing ball." One bright little fellow gave me the time, two o'clock, and the distance to Kellogg. I then pushed on without stopping at Grinnell. Amused myself with some little boys in front of a country school house who were "playing horse." I inquired of the youngest if he went to school, and his brother answered for him in the affirmative. I then asked, "What does he learn?" "He don't learn nothin'," answered the youth. "Then why do you take him to school?" I inquired. "So, when the boys go out, he can 'play horse' with us."
Have seen some of the finest scenery and grandest farms to-day that I have encountered along my journey. The day has been unusually bright and pleasant, and the country looks lovely in the extreme. Reached Kellogg to-night, half an hour after dark. Caught a young snipe about a mile from the village and offered it to a young girl if she could name its species. She could not, and a boy claimed the prize.
Amused some of the guests in the evening with incidents of my journey, and they, in turn, gave me some useful information about the Far West, North Platte, Green River, and Humboldt Valley.
One hundred and fifty-fourth Day.
Pacific Hotel,
Colfax, Iowa,
October Twelfth.
Arrived at Colfax in the evening after a glorious ride over the prairie. The grain on the farms waved in the breeze as the fields were passed and numerous streams crossed finding their way to the rivers that intersect the State. This prairie is not entirely devoid of timber, for groves dot the extended landscape like islands in a green sea; while from the higher grounds I viewed the prairie decked with wild hay and autumn flowers.
—"Broad on either hand
The golden wheat-fields glimmered in the sun,
And the tall maize its yellow tassels spun."
The prairie here is from twenty to forty miles in width. A variety of minerals are found and mined to a limited extent. Time will work many changes. A quarter of a century hence, Colfax will probably be known as an important mining town with large and varied interests. Its growth will be gladly noted by many who have faith in its future.
One Hundred and Fifty-fifth Day.
Jones House,
Des Moines, Iowa,
October Thirteenth.
Mounted Paul at eight o'clock and rode twenty miles, which brought me to Des Moines. Most of the journey was over prairie land; the sun shone brightly and afforded me an agreeable warmth as Paul stepped out bravely—cheered, possibly by the prospect of entering a large city and resting for a day or two. We know nothing of a horse's prevision. The country along my route is rich in fertility of soil, but its resources are not yet fully developed. I am told that but little snow falls on this prairie, the winter being made up of cool, sunshiny days, and clear, frosty nights. There is nothing, I think, to hinder this part of Iowa from being one of the most healthy portions of the United States.
One Hundred and Fifty-sixth Day.
Jones House,
Des Moines, Iowa,
October Fourteenth.
I have not seen a brighter or more stirring city in my line of march than Des Moines, the capital of the State of Iowa. Under the escort of Professor E. T. Bowen, city editor of The Leader, and two other well informed gentlemen, I visited the Iowa State Perpetual Exposition and was introduced to the secretary, who courteously showed me over the buildings.
The city stands at the mouth of the Raccoon River, is three hundred and fifty-eight miles west of Chicago and one hundred and forty-two east of Omaha. Its shape is quadrilateral—four miles long by two miles wide. The Des Moines River flows through its centre, dividing the East from the West Side. The city stands on a declivity, its highest part extending to about one hundred and sixty feet. The Post Office, Court House and city offices, the principal depots and hotels, and the greater portion of the business houses, are situated on a plateau about a mile long and half a mile wide, rising about fifteen feet above high water; and on the higher ground beyond are some of the handsomest and largest private residences.
On the East Side is another business locality. Capitol Square contains ten acres on an elevated site commanding a fine view. The State House was erected at a cost of nearly $3,000,000. The Public Library contains some 30,000 volumes. There are over twenty churches of all denominations in the city. The Post Office and Court House buildings are of marble and cost $250,000. There is also a State Arsenal, a large County Court House and many public improvements found only in first-class modern cities. Two daily and upwards of a dozen weekly papers are published here. In the vicinity are mines of excellent coal and a number of manufactories of various kinds are in operation.
Before leaving the Jones House it is but just that I should say that I was not more courteously treated during my journey than by Messrs. George W. Jones and Son. Professor Bowen and Captain Conrad with many others saw me off.
The next day a copy of the Des Moines Leader reached me, in which the following notice appeared. I insert it here as one of many pleasant references to my journey.
"Captain Willard Glazier, the horseback traveller 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. The Captain continued his journey westward yesterday with the best wishes of the friends he has made during his short stay here."
ON THE WAY TO MILL.