Thursday, October 22, 2009

1840s Mystery Spot: Can You Identify These Two Ghostly "Taverns"?

A story in the June 10, 1844 abolitionist newspaper the Signal of Liberty describes a visit to Ypsilanti by an abolitionist from back east. The paper quotes this gentleman's impressions of Ypsi and mentions two large buildings, one abandoned. But what were these buildings?

The article begins, "A correspondent of the Countryman, a N.Y. Liberty [abolition] paper, is travelling through this State, and publishing his ideas for the benefit of the New Yorkers. He praises the country and people, quite as much as they deserve, perhaps more. [heh]. Some of his sketches are quite amusing."

Readers will kindly indulge one brief sidetrack to one such atmospheric sketch that occurs as the Countryman writer is travelling on a train, perhaps straight to Ypsi:

"As I seated myself in the cars, a sun-burnt young man seated himself at my right. In his hand he held a large straw hat, designed for summer use, and in it two cloth bound volumes, and some rolls of paper.
'See your book, sir' said I. I took it and on the back in large capitals, read the 'Life and Speeches of Henry Clay.'
'What, sir! do you vote for a duelist and slaveholder, when that noble man, JAMES G. BIRNEY, lives so near you?
'I am,' says he, 'as much an abolitionist as any body--think slavery a great evil; but, I don't carry it into politics.'
'You pray against it?'
'Yes.'
'Are you ashamed to pray and vote alike?'
He looked confusion and coon skins*, and cast his eyes upon his big brim hat, and was silent. Soon, a shrewd looking stranger roused him up, by asking him for some 'better measures,' but could get none; but the flint was struck, and light flashed upon Clay, Van Buren and slavery, in every part of the cars."


Now. On to the mysterious buildings. When the Countryman writer's train pulled into the Ypsilanti depot and he disembarked, this is what he saw that June day in 1844:

"The place shows some noble signs of 'wild cat' [banking] times. A large brick edifice, designed for a tavern, will probably be converted into a College. Another on the opposite side, near the depot, 100 feet in front, 80 broad, or nearly, surrounded by a piazza. It was great in its conception, great in its ruins, doors and windows all gaping--the winds of heaven blow through it, the wild cats mew there, I guess, and somebody would complete the picture by poking their bare heads out of its countless windows. Both these were designed for taverns, but the 'pressure' squeezed the spirit out of all the men that built 'em; the money out of all the pockets of the workmen, and the old nick out of the drunkards they would have made. So the 'pressure' has done some good.
"[Ypsilanti] contains eight doctors, not an abolitionist among them; four clergymen, one or two 'as good abolitionists as any body'--twelve lawyers, whigs and democrats, of course."

OK. Detective time, fellow Mystery Spotters! There are some deductions we can make from this report:

1. Both buildings were near the one-time Depot.
2. The buildings were near each other, "on the opposite side" of something--the river? a road? The new 1838 railroad tracks?
3. Building A was of sufficient size and of a style that it could be converted into a college.
4. Building B was abandoned and empty in the summer of 1844. It was large and had "countless windows." Made me think of the Thompson Building, which wasn't built till almost 20 years later.

Dusty D went to her Colburn to check and found this on page 76:

"The enterprising Mark Norris, in 1838, materialized the vision of another tavern for Ypsilanti, by erecting the "Western Hotel," on a triangular piece of ground just south of the site of the present Michigan Central Station [the old wooden depot, preceding the 1864 fancy brick depot which burned, leaving the remnant of the present-day depot]. The building was of brick with stone facings, and the enterprise was of considerable magnitude for the period. Shops occupied the ground floors two or three steps down from the walk and the hotel proper was above. The place was opened in May, 1839, under the management of Abiel Hawkins and Abraham Sage. Hawkins later bought out the interest of Sage and continued in the management until his retirement from business. The building was subsequently removed to make way for an extension of railroad property, its brick being used in the construction of the Thompson Block and neighboring buildings."

Is the Great Western Hotel the building described by the Countryman writer as a "ruin"? If so, it wasn't in business very long.

To add to the mystery, I found this August 1845 advertisement in the Sentinel. It appears the hotel is open, and run by one S. J. Barber. Did he buy it from Abiel Hawkins, said to be the proprietor of the GWH in the Colburn clip above? Did Abiel sell the GWH so that he could concentrate on his Hawkins House hotel, across town at Michigan Ave. and Washington? Was the hotel abandoned for some time and then rehabbed by Barber?

Quite confusing. Interestingly, the GWH in my 1856 plat map seems to be a building called the "National Hotel." Tidbit: Shortly after the Normal School's founding in 1849, the original school building pictured at left burned to the ground in 1859. The school temporarily moved into the National Hotel, which seems to have been empty at that time (?)

OK. What about the other building, the one the Countryman writer said was to be a school?

At first I thought it might be the Seminary, which opened in August of 1844. It stood at Washington and Cross and was a large, imposing building. Does "opposite side of" mean the river, or perhaps the opposite side of the railroad part of town? Was the "Sem" the building referenced?

But then I also found this:

"1844:...Miss Jane Willard opened a school for children in common branches of English in a building near the depo. ('Sentinel' 4-25-1844)."

This seems more likely, but I could find nothing, here at home or in my copies of the 1844 Sentinel, about Ms. Willard's school.

Readers, those of you with more knowledge than me, what are your thoughts? What did the Countryman writer see that summer day in 1844?


* Dusty D has filed this 1840s slang expression away, reverently, for definite future use.

Thanks to Ypsilanti Archives intern Derek S. for tipping me off that the Signal of Liberty is available online at the AADL site!

2 comments :

Building Place said...

Fantastic post. A Ypsilanti history mystery at its best. The whole description of the old depot area sounds like the beginning of a very interesting "Gone with the Wind"-like novel.

Dusty D said...

Wow, thank you for such a nice comment!

He describes the empty building so poetically:

"It was great in its conception, great in its ruins, doors and windows all gaping--the winds of heaven blow through it, the wild cats mew there..."

That is the second time he uses the phrase "wild cat" in that para, and I think he means not just feral cats but is using that image as a double meaning--feral cats (signifying abandoned building) and wild cats as a reference to the recently failed wildcat banking bubble (the ruin as the visible legacy of the banking failure, which happened just shortly before this account).

Haven't been to the Archives yet to dig up info, and won't be there today, but I will be tomorrow.