XII.

SARAH WHIPPLE SIBLEY.

Sarah W. Sproat was born in Providence, Rhode Island, on the 28th of January, 1782. She was the only child of Col. Ebenezer Sproat, a gallant and accomplished officer of the Revolution, and the granddaughter of Commodore Abraham Whipple, who also repeatedly distinguished himself during that war by his activity and bravery. At the commencement of the struggle. Commodore Whipple was wealthy, but had impoverished himself by his advances to Government in fitting out vessels and men for the public service, for which he was never remunerated, and at its close he found he could no longer sustain the style of living befitting his position in society, and to which he was accustomed. His son-in-law, Col. Sproat, was in the same situation, and both being too proud and high-spirited to conform patiently to their change of circumstances, they determined to join a party of their companions-in-arms, who were about to seek a new home in the yet unexplored wilderness of the West.

They were of the advance party who landed in 1788 at the mouth of the Muskingum, and commenced the settlement of Marietta. Burnet says in his notes—“The early adventurers to the Northwestern Territory were generally men who had spent the prime of their lives in the war of Independence. Many of them had exhausted their fortunes in maintaining the desperate struggle, and retired to the wilderness to conceal their poverty, and avoid comparisons mortifying to their pride, while struggling to maintain their families and improve their condition. Some were young men descended from Revolutionary patriots who had fallen in the contest, or became too feeble to endure the fatigue of settling a wilderness. Others were adventurous spirits, to whom any change might be for the better.”

The following year the new settlers were joined by their families. It is difficult now to conceive the extent of the difficulties against which these pioneers had to contend, besides the dangers that surrounded them. So great was the difficulty of transportation that they were only able to bring the most simple necessaries of life with them. After their cabins were built, some of them were for months without other doors than blankets, and with no furniture but the boxes and trunks they had brought, which were converted into seats, beds, and tables as the occasion required; and just as they were becoming comfortable in their new homes, the fearful Indian war broke out, and every day brought fresh accounts of horrible murders committed in the immediate vicinity, almost at their doors. Col. Sproat determined to remove his daughter to a place of safety, where she might at the same time receive the necessary instruction which during the existing disturbances she could not enjoy at home.

The Moravian school at Bethlehem then bore a high reputation, and in 1792, when Miss Sproat was but ten years old, she accompanied her father over the mountains to Bethlehem, most of the way on horseback; a journey that would be thought formidable at the present day. She remained there three years, and then went to Philadelphia to receive lessons in some accomplishments which she had no opportunities for acquiring in Bethlehem. She resided while in that city in the family of a friend of her father’s, and became strongly attached to its members. She made many warm friends in Philadelphia, and left it with regret. But her father had become impatient for her return, and went for her in the spring of 1797. He at that time purchased a piano for her in Philadelphia, the first taken west of the Alleghany mountains.

On her return, she found Marietta much changed and improved: the inhabitants were no longer in fear of Indian incursions, and many new settlers had been added to their number. It had become quite a town, with a very pleasant society, and the danger they had shared in common had tended to strengthen the bond which already united the early colonists.

The years intervening between Miss Sproat’s return and her marriage, passed away swiftly and happily. Being the only child, she was of course much caressed by her parents, and her natural gaiety and affectionate, generous disposition made her a favorite with her young friends. Her father had taken great pains to make her an accomplished horsewoman, and she was the constant companion of his rides. To this habit of exercise she was indebted for the ease with which she made the long and fatiguing journeys she was compelled to take in after life.

After the establishment of the Northwest Territorial Government the General Court had its sessions alternately at Cincinnati, Detroit, and Marietta. Mr. Sibley was a young lawyer of high standing, who had removed from Massachusetts to Ohio in 1797, and soon afterwards to Detroit. Judge Burnet says of him—“He possessed a sound mind, improved by a liberal education, and a stability and firmness of character which commanded general respect, and secured to him the confidence and esteem of his fellow members.” He constantly attended the sessions of the Court, and was of course frequently in Marietta. It was there that he first became acquainted with Miss Sproat. They were married in October, 1802, but she did not go to Detroit until the following spring.

The way to Detroit at that time was by the Ohio river to Pittsburg, across to Erie, and thence by water to Detroit; the least fatiguing but a very tedious route. Being entirely at the mercy of wind and weather, travellers were often ten days crossing the lake, and in one instance a family was detained three weeks between Erie and the city of the straits.

Mrs. Sibley was warmly welcomed on her arrival by her husband’s friends, and so kindly treated that she soon felt at home. The society was delightful at that time. The fort was strongly garrisoned, and most of the officers were Southerners, possessing the warmth and ease of manner peculiar to the South. The inhabitants of the town and its vicinity were principally French. Some of these were descendants of noble families in France, and prided themselves upon their superior polish and refinement. For about six months in the year all communication with the rest of the world was cut off by ice and snow. At these seasons the people seemed determined to make up for their isolation by increased sociability among themselves, and every one kept open house. Some very agreeable persons resided on the opposite side of the river, families of British merchants who had formerly lived in Detroit, but on its cession to the Americans had removed to Canada. A constant intercourse had always been kept up, and they joined in all the gaieties of the place.

In August, 1804, Col. Sproat came to Detroit to take his daughter home to visit her mother. As public business required Mr. Sibley’s attendance at Washington during the winter, it was arranged that Mrs. Sibley should return with her father to Marietta, and remain until the following spring. Their journey was made on horseback. The whole of the northern part of Ohio was at that time a dense wilderness, and travellers were obliged to camp out at night. Mrs. Sibley often spoke of an incident which occurred on this journey. The horse she rode was one which Col. Sproat had brought on expressly for his daughter’s use, and was a great favorite. He was unfortunately taken sick on the way, and with difficulty they reached a spot suitable to encamp for the night. Everything possible was done for the relief of the poor animal, but all was in vain, and it was most distressing to hear his groans of agony. The woods around seemed to be swarming with wolves attracted by the cries of the horse, and they yelled and howled like so many demons. The fires around the camp were all that prevented them from rushing upon its inmates. Mrs. Sibley said she never spent such a fearful night. The poor horse died towards morning, and they left him with regret. Their journey was a long and fatiguing one, but they arrived in safety at Marietta.

It was providentially ordered that Mrs. Sibley should spend that winter at home, for she was thus enabled to cheer her father’s last days by her presence. In February, without any previous warning, he was attacked by apoplexy, and died immediately. He was yet in the prime of life, being only fifty years old, and was generally regretted. His death was a heavy affliction to his daughter, for the tie had been unusually strong that existed between them; inheriting many of his traits of character, she had been his companion and had shared with him many daring adventures. He had almost idolized her, and she was equally devoted to him. Col. Sproat had many warm friends among his brother officers. The family still have in their possession a miniature of him painted by Kosciusko. They were intimate friends, and it was taken while they were together in winter-quarters during the Revolution. Burr, on his first visit to Ohio, is said to have shed tears over the grave of his old fellow-soldier.

Mrs. Sibley remained with her mother until the following summer, her husband having in the mean time returned from Washington to Detroit. In June, 1805, that city was entirely destroyed by fire. An extract from a letter written at that time by Mr. Sibley to his wife, will give an idea of the loss of property and the suffering that ensued. “June 16,—We are all, without a single exception, unhoused. The town of Detroit was on the 11th inst. in the course of three hours reduced to ashes. You can readily conceive the consternation and consequent confusion that prevailed. Much personal property, household furniture and merchandize fell a sacrifice to the devouring element. I had, from my situation, the good fortune to save our property from the fire, but from the bustle that prevailed, and the thefts committed, I have suffered considerably. We have been exerting ourselves since the fire to relieve the distressed. They are numerous, and demand every exertion we can make in their favor. The houses up and down the settlement are full, and for want of room many families still remain encamped in the open air. The gentlemen from the other side have been liberal in furnishing provisions, which are still much wanted.

“My own loss, as compared with that of the citizens in general, is so trifling that I have scarcely thought seriously upon the subject. The want of a house, added to the entire suspension of business, is the greatest inconvenience I experience. I believe the present scene presents a phenomenon rarely to be met with; a whole town burned with the exception of a single dwelling-house standing. What measures will be adopted in rebuilding Detroit it is yet uncertain. A number of us are exerting ourselves in order that we may procure more room by widening the streets. A meeting will be held at Mr. May’s to-morrow, when the subject will be discussed; the result will be uncertain. What a gloomy prospect for our Governor, etc., when they arrive! Not a single house for his reception or accommodation. Our country was sufficiently poor before the late disaster—what will become of a number of poor persons I know not, unless some benevolent aid is offered from abroad. This last resource appears doubtful. We are not known in the States, therefore we have but little expectation that they will interest themselves for our relief.”

Mr. Sibley fitted up an old house which was then considered quite a distance from town, a large open common intervening; situated on the square opposite “the Biddle House,” now in the very heart of the city. He occupied the same house until 1835, a period of thirty years. As soon as it was rendered comfortable he went to Marietta for his wife. Michigan had only lately been organized into a territory, and upon the arrival of the newly appointed governor, Gen. Hull, Detroit was a perfect scene of desolation. He was obliged to build a house immediately, for there was not one for him to live in. The house he erected was considered a splendid one at that time, and was the same afterwards known as the American Hotel, which was burned in the fire of 1848. On Mrs. Sibley’s return, she again travelled on horseback, but only as far as Sandusky, from which place they came in a vessel.

But few events worthy of note occurred during the interval between her return and the war of 1812. She was then the mother of three children, and for their sake, even more than for her own, looked forward with dread to the prospect of another war. The events of that war, as connected with Detroit, are too well known to require a repetition here. Although exposed to so much danger, Mrs. Sibley remained with her husband, and in all the trials and horrors of that eventful time, bore herself most courageously.

At the time an attack upon the town was expected, it was thought advisable to place the women and children for greater security within the fort. During the terrible day of the cannonade, Mrs. Sibley said that not one woman gave way to fear; that she never saw so much courage displayed. All seemed nerved by the exigencies of the time, and by the very danger to which they were exposed. They busied themselves in giving the only assistance in their power, making cartridges, and scraping lint for the wounded. Some dreadful scenes occurred on that day. In the room adjoining that in which the ladies were collected, four officers were shot by one ball. One of these was Mr. Sibley’s cousin. When the news was announced of the surrender, the feeling of regret and indignation expressed was intense. They were all prepared for danger, but not for disgrace. As the American soldiers were marched out of the fort, Mrs. Dyson, the wife of an officer, collected all the clothing under the charge of the commissary, and threw it out of a window to the soldiers as they passed by, declaring that the British should not benefit by it.

After the surrender, Mr. Sibley applied to Gen. Proctor for permission to go on with his family to Ohio. It was denied at first, but afterwards granted, giving him only two days to make his preparations. Thus hastily they left their home, to remain until happier times. The vessel in which they embarked was a very small one, and exceedingly crowded, but there was no alternative; and with heavy hearts they sailed for Erie. They remained with Mrs. Sibley’s friends a year. As soon as Detroit was given up to the Americans they started on their return, but when they reached Cleveland found that it was rather late in the season, the few vessels then on the lake being laid up for the winter; and as it was impossible to go by land with a family of children they were obliged to remain there all winter. Cleveland was then but a small settlement, and separated by a dense wilderness from the southern towns of Ohio. During the time the lake was closed, the transportation of all articles was attended with great difficulty and expense, consequently every thing was enormously high. Mr. Sibley had expected to reach home before the winter, and was little prepared for such a detention. He had lost greatly by the war, and the utter cessation of all business for such a length of time with one who depended upon his profession for the support of his family, had so crippled his means that his inability to proceed homeward was excessively inconvenient to him. The family was treated with much kindness, but had to submit to great privation and discomfort, and they were heartily glad when the return of spring allowed them to return to Detroit.

Mrs. Sibley made but one more visit to Ohio, and that was in 1819. She then received intelligence of the deaths, within a short time of each other, of her aged grandparents, the venerable old Commodore and Mrs. Whipple. Mrs. Sproat being thus left entirely alone, as she had no other relatives in the west, she wrote to her daughter that if she could come for her she would return with her to Michigan.

Mrs. Sibley did not hesitate, but leaving her family under the charge of a faithful servant, set out on her journey. She went under the care of a gentleman from Detroit, and to save fatigue went as far as Sandusky in the new steamboat, “Walk in the Water,” the first steamboat that ever ran on Lake Erie.

They sent their horses by a servant to meet them at Sandusky. This journey to Marietta was the last ever taken by Mrs. Sibley on horseback. She remained in Ohio only long enough to complete the preparations for Mrs. Sproat’s removal. They returned by stage, as Mrs. Sproat was too old to undertake the journey on horseback. Mrs. Sproat remained with her daughter until her death, which took place in 1832.

The most eventful part of Mrs. Sibley’s life was now past. Henceforth her time was principally occupied with the duties incumbent upon a wife and mother, and these were well and faithfully performed. A large family grew up around her, in whose minds it was ever her constant endeavor to instil such high principles as should make them true to themselves and useful members of society. To her most truly could the scriptural passage be applied, “Her children shall rise up and call her blessed.”

It is difficult to convey an adequate idea of the actual condition of this portion of the great Mississippi valley in its transition state, or the important part in the formation of its daily life that fell to the lot of a pioneer matron. Of all these, there was not one better fitted by nature and education for the time and place than this noble woman. Blessed with a commanding person, a vigorous and cultivated intellect, undaunted courage, and an intuitive and clear perception of right and wrong, she exercised great influence upon the society in which she lived. Affectionate in disposition, frank in manner, and truly just as well as benevolent, she was during her whole married life the centre of an admiring circle of devoted friends. As age crept on, and disease confined her to the fireside, she still remained the object of profound and marked respect to the people of the city which had grown up around her, and when at length she was “gathered to her fathers,” she died, as she had always lived, without one to cast a reproach upon her elevated and beautiful character.

A revolution like that of 1776—the surrender upon the altar of their country of the fortunes of the brave men who led the way to freedom—the poverty of the government and its consequent inability to repay these losses—the resulting necessity of making a home among the savages of a great wilderness, and reducing that wilderness to a state of law, order, and refinement; these were circumstances well fitted to develope the strong traits of character in the men and women of the great West. They cannot recur, and therefore we cannot expect again to see such a race. They have passed away, and henceforward we may expect what has always accompanied an age of refinement, the softening down of strong points of character, and in too many instances, enervation and effeminacy.

The husband of this honored lady, the Hon. Solomon Sibley, was for many years one of the judges of the Supreme Court of the territory of Michigan. He lived to be not only the last relic of the ancient bar of Michigan proper, dating back to 1798, but also the last remaining link connecting the profession in that State of the present day with that of the Northwest Territory, of which he was a member previous to his removal to Detroit.

He was a native of Massachusetts, and was admitted to the bar in Virginia. In 1797, he practised law with his friend Judge Burnet, of Cincinnati. In 1799, having removed to Detroit, he was elected to the first territorial legislature of the Northwest Territory as representative for the county of Wayne, which then embraced the present State of Michigan. This body held its sessions in Cincinnati. In the records of the Historical Society of Ohio, Judge Sibley is mentioned as “among the most talented men of the House.” That he was held in the highest estimation by his fellow-citizens, is evinced by the fact, that as early as 1802 the electors of the town of Detroit voted him the freedom of the corporation “for his eminent services in behalf of the people of the territory.”

In the uniform, quiet, and unostentatious devotion of his time and talents to the interests of his country, Judge Sibley continued to receive marked evidences of universal respect and confidence, till compelled by physical infirmity to retire from public life. In his public relation of United States Commissioner—associated with Gen. Cass to negotiate the treaty by which the Indian title to a large part of the peninsula of Michigan was extinguished; as delegate representing the territory of Michigan in Congress; as District Attorney of the United States, and as Judge of the Supreme Court of Michigan, he won, as he well merited, the affection, respect and entire confidence of his contemporaries and associates. All who were acquainted with him in private life cherished the highest respect and veneration for the character he had so justly acquired and sustained during a long and well spent life. In all private relations, he showed himself amiable, pure, and true to the various interests confided to him; in public ones, faithful, upright, and honorable; a sound and able lawyer, an impartial, honest, and discriminating judge.

For several years before his death, his health being too infirm for public duty, he gave himself up to the enjoyments of a happy home, where, surrounded by friends, he was gathered to his fathers, April 4th, 1846, aged seventy-seven. The members of the bar of Detroit, and officers of the respective courts assembled to express their regret, and esteem for his noble character, and wore mourning for the usual time.