Life and writings of Amelia Bloomer

by D. C. Bloomer

“Yesterday we made up a party of six and started soon after breakfast for the Garden of the Gods, Glen Eyrie, and Monument Park. The day was one of the finest imaginable, the air cool and invigorating, and our driver a man experienced in the business of showing to tourists the wonders of this section of this wonderful state. We found him a very intelligent and much-traveled man, and learned that he was one of the magistrates of the town. Our road to the Garden of the Gods was ascending all the way. In reply to a query as to why the place was so named, the guide told us a story of how a southern gentleman came to the spot some years ago bringing with him two colored slaves, a man and a woman. He built here a cabin, and soon after took his gun and started out for a further journey, leaving the slaves behind and promising an early return. But days and weeks passed on and he returned not, and never was heard of more. The negroes remained in their new home, made improvements and planted a garden, which in this new land was a sight to gladden the eye. This, in connection with the grand works of nature surrounding it, grew to be the Garden of the Gods, the name which has made it famous throughout the world. So much for the story. The negroes, Jupiter and Juno, are no more; but the great works of nature remain in all their grandeur, and a visit to them well repays the traveler for the journey he takes to see them.

“The rocks in this so-called garden have been shaped into every conceivable form by the action of wind, water and frost. Many of them, by a little stretch of the imagination, are made to bear a strong resemblance to men and animals. The prevailing formation is red sandstone, but there are also conglomerate, gypsum and other varieties. At the south entrance, is a huge rock standing upon the narrowest foundation, and seemingly ready at any moment to topple over on the people who are constantly passing. As the incline is a little away from the road, it is to be hoped no such catastrophe will ever happen, even should the rock in ages to come be so top-heavy as to break loose from its foundations. The Grand Gateway is a narrow passageway between immense piles of rocks over three hundred feet high, of irregular outline and surface, which rise sharply and perpendicularly like a mighty wall. These rocks are full of holes, rifts and crevices and chasms in which thousands of swallows have built their nests, and we could plainly hear the twittering of the young ones from the ledge of rocks a few feet distant, on which we climbed. Our guide led us to a cave under one of these walls. The opening was near the base, and so low that one had to bend the knees and crawl in. The guide assured us that once inside the cave was high and roomy. Half of our party ventured in, but they found it too dark to see far beyond. Those of us who remained outside could hear the echoes of their voices high up in the rocks, showing that there is a high open space within the seemingly solid stone. Other rocks but a few feet distant are of gray color, and a little further on are large white rocks composed of gypsum, very soft and pliable. This is now being taken out in large quantities to be converted into plaster of Paris.

“At the time we were passing through this huge gateway, an Iowa boy was standing on the top of one of these towering red walls waving a white flag, and upon the other stood a young woman waving her handkerchief. They looked like pygmies at that great elevation, and but for their moving about we should have supposed them a slight projection of rock. These we are told are the same persons who made the journey to Pike’s Peak mentioned above. Their ascent up the rocks was a difficult and dangerous one, and though our guide proposed to lead us also up to their summit, we declined the temptation to view the surrounding mountains from so dizzy a height. It is very singular that these different varieties of rock formation should be found in so close proximity, and they furnish abundant food for the study of the geologist. The prevailing shape of the rocks is high and narrow, and some of the forms into which they have been brought by the forces of nature are remarkably beautiful and unique.

“Passing on from this famed locality over a smooth and level road, we visited Glen Eyrie. This spot derives its name from an eagle’s nest high up in a crevice or shelf of the rocks, so our guide informed us, and also that within a year the eagles had occupied the nest, which was plainly visible to us, looking the size of a bushelbasket. They have now abandoned the place. The name Glen Eyrie is given to a large tract of land belonging to General Palmer, president of the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. He has fenced in this wild tract, opened a road across it, and in a nook close under the towering rocks by which it is surrounded and far from any other habitation he has built a costly and elegant residence. The dwelling stands at the foot or entrance to Queen’s Cañon, a narrow gorge up which we traveled on foot the distance of half a mile till we reached a pool or basin of water, eight or ten feet in diameter, which blocked our further progress. This pool is known as the Devil’s Punchbowl, but General Palmer has named it the Mermaid’s Bathtub. Whether either devils or mermaids come here to either drink or bathe, history does not record. Our path was over big stones and rocks, and along the bed of a mountain torrent, which we crossed several times, stepping from rock to rock as our path led first to one side and then to the other. High above us on either side the mountains rose to a great height, their sides covered at times with the evergreen pine and scrub-oak, and again consisting simply of bare and naked rocks ready at any moment apparently to tumble down upon our heads. Our guide informed us that General Palmer has already spent forty or fifty thousand dollars upon the house and grounds of Glen Eyrie. I would not give him one thousand for the whole thing.

“After the exploration of Queen’s Cañon our party voted unanimously to proceed to Monument Park, a distance of five miles, which we reached just in time to enjoy a most excellent dinner prepared for us by Mrs. Lewis, whose husband is an extensive cattle-raiser and lives in a comfortable dwelling at the entrance of the park. We are told that he came a confirmed consumptive, but has now become a strong and healthy man. This we could well believe, for in this locality the air was wonderfully pure, dry and bracing, and our party greatly enjoyed its exhilarating effects. Dinner over, we proceeded to explore the Park and gaze upon its unique formations. I do not feel competent to adequately describe them. The rocks are unlike any others in Colorado. They are nearly white with a yellowish tinge and often pyramidal in form. Standing out from the general mass are numerous statue-like columns, which seem to have been carved by the hand of man. They bear various designations, such as Adam and Eve, Lot’s Wife, the Democratic Caucus, Henry Ward Beecher’s Pulpit, the Dutch Wedding, the Anvil, etc., etc. They range from eight to fifteen feet in height and, what is singular, all of them are crowned with a flat rocky cap considerably larger than the top of the column on which it rests. This covering is composed of materials different from the statue itself, being of a harder or darker substance, considerable iron being mixed with its other constituents. I noticed one exact form of a bottle or decanter, large and round, with a small neck. This was smaller than the forms that surrounded it, but it had the same flat cap-stone that surmounted all the others. How came these statues here? Who can tell? Some of our party said the rocks had been washed away in the progress of ages from around them and left them standing out boldly by themselves, a puzzle and a wonder to all beholders. But some of them rise from a level plain, standing alone, with no rocks near them, and no evidence of any having been washed away. They rise from the ground, a solid column, and look as though placed there by the hand of man to mark the spot of some great event or the tomb of some departed one. Men have their theories, but the mystery is buried in the darkness of ages and none solve it satisfactorily. We leave them to their solitude and silence and, awe-stricken and subdued, turn our faces whence we came.

“A. B.”

ADOPTED CHILDREN.

No children of her own came to the home of Mrs. Bloomer, but she cared carefully and almost continually for the children of others. Her residence, whether in the east or the west, was hardly ever without their presence. Nieces and nephews were nearly always under her roof, and some of them remained with her until they had homes of their own. Soon after her removal to Council Bluffs, a little boy was adopted into her family and his sister came to it a few years later. These were carefully cared for, instructed and educated, and remained with her until they took their welfare into their own hands. Both have now families of their own, one residing in Oregon and the other in Arizona. The boy, Edward, took her name, and his children bear it also. For him as a boy and a man, and for his children, she ever manifested the warmest interest, preparing and sending to them each year boxes of clothing and other articles designed to add to their comfort and happiness in their distant home. In the early days of Council Bluffs, not a few of the teachers in the public schools resided in her family. They were mostly young women and she always strove to afford to them a pleasant and comfortable home. She ever insisted that the wages of young women employed as teachers by the school board should be the same as those paid to men. Her position was that, so long as they did an equal amount of work and did it equally well, they should receive equal pay, and this is an argument which never has been and never can be successfully answered, although school boards continue to set it aside as unworthy of their consideration.

CHRISTIAN LIFE AND WORK.

Mrs. Bloomer was a zealous worker in the church of which she was a member, as well as in all efforts to promote the spread of true Christianity. While a resident of Seneca Falls, she contributed her full share to the various agencies employed to advance the interests of the parish. She was zealous and faithful in attending church services and all gatherings whether social or festive to advance church interests. Modest and retiring in demeanor, she took her place calmly and pleasantly wherever called upon to labor, and found her chief reward In the approval of a good conscience.