The day began with a bang, literally.
“The booming of cannon, the firing of musketry, of musketry of
small guns and fire-crackers, the ringing of bells, sounding of
whistles” awakened anyone attempting to sleep in. The village
swelled as teams and trains brought thousands from outside the
village to attend the day's festivities.
The town was painted red, white and
blue with streamers, bunting draped from windows and flags waving
from both homes and businesses. “Some people decorated their
families, after using up all other space, and centennial babies were
not the least patriotic part of this city.” “Miss DeYoe and Miss
Chase, dressed as goddesses of liberty,” were “especially
charming, graceful and memorable” as “they waived [sic] their
pretty flags while the procession passed by.”
The procession itself, was 1.25 miles
long and was more than just a Kalamazoo affair as attested to by the
number of groups from surrounding communities. It was led by
Crossett's Cornet Band of Constantine, followed by the Kalamazoo
Light Guard, the Centreville Cadets, the German Workingmen's
Benevolent Association, the Holland Workingmen's Association and St.
Augustine's Benevolent Association. The Peninsular Commandery, the
Three Rivers Commandery and the Odd Fellows marched next. Then came
many companies of Firemen: Eurekas, Vigilants, Victories, Snails
(from Paw Paw), the Asylum Fire Guard and the Hook & Ladder
truck. A carriage drew Dr. Hitchcock and Mrs. Cameron dressed as
George and Martha Washington followed by a terraced “chariot, with
Goddess of Liberty, and Ladies representing” all 37 states in the
union. Guests and village officers came next. The Kalamazoo Cornet
Band and the Kalamazoo County Cavalry preceded the old stage coach.
Then the trade wagons passed, decked out to display their wares,
including millinery, tea, knitted goods, agricultural implements,
carriages, sewing machines, handles, ice wagons, musical instruments
and even carriages of the Forepaugh Circus and Menagerie. “It was
a noisy affair.” Organized Granges and citizens in carriages
brought up the rear.
The oration was given by Gen. Isaac
Sherwood. 100 years ago, America was “a country without credit,
without allies and without a flag. . . The empire of today,
stretching from ocean to ocean, was not even a prophesy to the most
hopeful of the brave spirits who signed the Declaration. Yet
stripped of its prophetic spirit, the spectacle is no less grand –
a handful of scattered colonists, surrounded by hostile savages,
harassed by tory taunts and sneers, rising up without arms, without
money, and unschooled in war, to confront and defy the leading power
of the earth.” It certainly was a bold move to thumb their noses
at Britain.
After describing some of the fathers of
the revolution, including Washington, of course, Patrick Henry,
Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Paine, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton
and others, Sherwood continued. “Hallowed be the memory of men
like these! Would that their names, every one, were cut in a
mountain of granite, under whose sacred shadows as the centuries roll
away, the children of the nations might gather, to write anew their
noble epitaphs, and emblazon them with the unutterable glory of their
achievements!” I think he would be happy to see that Washington
and Jefferson were memorialized years hence on Mount Rushmore.
Sherwood made sure to mention that the
Revolution was not a simple, glorious victory, something too quickly
forgotten as the years passed. He said, “Let us never forget the
Continental army. We must remember that science and organized human
charities, had not yet appeared to ameliorate the horrors of war. No
benign sanitary commission followed close upon Washington's bare-foot
soldiers. Blessed anesthetics brought no relief to the terrors of
amputation. No rail roads bore away the weary convalescents to quiet
retreats. No daily mails carried words of sweet consolation from
loved ones at home. No telegraphs bore swift messages – speaking
by seconds, from heart to heart.”
“But we must hurry over the dire
disasters that followed the American cause. Let us turn our eyes
from Washington's depleted army, thinned out by desertion and the
dread casualties of disease and battle. We can cast but a pitying
glance at that ragged remnant of any army that sways and falls on the
floating ice of the Delaware; that fixes its cold hungry trip on the
desperate Hessians of the British Dragoons. We must pass over the
perils and privations, the ghastly sufferings and sickening horrors
of Valley Forge. Let us turn back from the bleak valleys, whose
snow-clad roads are stained for eight long miles with the blood of
Washington's perishing veterans. Let us pass by the wild-eyed
starving regiments that have taken up their weary march to wrest
redress from a bankrupt nation and a forgetful Congress. Let us
leave the cruel price of our liberties and turn our glad eyes to the
fruits the century has gathered.” This conflict lasted eight and a
half years from when “the first American blood reddened the fields
of Lexington and Concord” to “when Washington resigned his sword
at Annapolis.” Sherwood then went on to describe how the nation
had changed, in population, in territory, in equality for all men (at
least on paper) and in technology.
Following this oration, the crowds
dispersed until the afternoon's historical address by Foster Pratt.
In addition to giving a history of the territory and state of
Michigan he also gave a brief description of each settlement in the
county as well as some of the early settlers. When he was through
the assembly again broke up until the commencement of the fireworks.
The fireworks consisted of no fewer
than thirty-three different displays. Some were stationary pieces,
but I wonder if more oohs and aahs were elicited by the bombs
bursting in mid-air. In addition, colored rockets, stars, serpents
and gold rain delighted the spectators. Meteor rockets, silver
shower batteries, parachute rockets and many other pyrotechnics wowed
those in attendance before the satisfied crowds made their ways home.
After all of the hoopla surrounding the
Centennial (and I'm not saying they shouldn't have been proud to
reach that milestone), Americans were probably feeling pretty cocky.
However, unbeknownst to those in the east, Custer's troops had been
routed days before at the Little Bighorn. The victorious Indians may
have wished rather than hoped that that battle could be the start of
their own Independence Day. But that was not to be, though their
struggle wouldn't be finally over until the massacre of Indians at
Wounded Knee in the waning days of 1890. As for Kalamazooans, the
report from the west didn't appear in the Telegraph until after the
Centennial festivities were concluded, making the front page on July
6, 1876.
Kalamazoo Daily Telegraph. 7-5-1876
