Michigan Fiddlers

If anyone else wants to weigh in, please send in your responses and discussions. Input is wonderful!

Eliot Singer's Response to Trae's Michigan Fiddling Manifesto: 

 

              Trae’s Manifesto is really about the same issue we struggled with back in the mid-1980s, and before that, long before that if we think about Henry Ford and other early attempts to preserve and revive Michigan fiddling, including Bisbee and Pattee.

How do we preserve and revive any tradition that no longer has the original contexts (which Paul Gifford would remind us were always changing and variable) in which it thrived?

               I approached this problem as a researcher, and the fiddlers who collaborated with me shared the goal of preserving and educating about tradition by documenting it, through interviews and collection of tunes. Jamborees were a different way of accomplishing the same goal, by bringing fiddlers together to perform, providing a reason for staying in practice and keeping up a repertoire, learning from each other, and passing tunes onto younger fiddlers who happened to attend.

        There were also some occasions when Michigan style fiddlers were brought by people like me to perform at festivals and other special events. Perhaps, more importantly, I brought fiddlers, such as Les Raber, Chip Walker, and Lois Bettesworth, into the schools, with the help of state arts program funding.

           But sadly, we failed to accomplish the ultimate goal of passing Michigan fiddle style (or styles) onto new generations and thus keeping it alive and vibrant. This goal was difficult in Henry Ford’s day, what with such nasty inventions as the radio and jazz. It was harder when the MFA and OMFA were founded, and harder still when I was trying to interview and record the respected elders. And, now the youngsters, who had largely learned from the elders with whom I was most concerned, are respected elders themselves.

           I can look back and see things we should have done differently, although some of the reasons had to do with lack of time and money (having transferred my old tapes to digital, I am now more than six months behind getting them online). I think we should have done a lot more crossover dances, with traditional Michigan style fiddlers at folk clubs, such as we did with Les Raber and Frances Geiger (Frank Mattison’s daughter and pianist) playing for a Ten Pound Fiddle/Looking Glass Music and Arts Organization dance in 1987. We should have made a concerted effort to get more than a handful of younger fiddlers to spend time with these Michigan fiddle style elders. I wish, back when arts funding was available, we had organized fiddle lessons for children, instead of just inviting fiddlers to schools to perform and play for dances, even though these were wonderful occasions that reached more children than individual lessons.

           I fear we are now in a situation that is more or less like trying to revive a dying language. In a sense, what we tried to do previously was passive teaching, but reviving a dying language takes intensive, active teaching. Trae is self-taught. He wants to be a fiddler who plays Michigan styles, albeit in his own way.

           Much of the teaching of dying native languages is not by native speakers who learned from their parents as children. I think the best hope for reviving some interest among fiddlers in Michigan style is for a few younger fiddlers, like Trae, or at least middle aged ones, to take what they have learned from living Michigan style fiddlers, and from recordings, books, and interviews, and teach: teach through performance, sharing tunes (with explanation), and giving lessons.

           I used to feel that having fiddlers who were not raised in a tradition represent that tradition was a bad idea (people like Bill White and Paul Gifford, able musicians, were always content to accompany traditional fiddlers not replace them). Now, I doubt there is much else that can be done: people like Trae are going to have to be representatives and teachers, and the key is for them to do so with respect for the tradition.

           Respect does not mean being moribund. I have no problem with Trae innovating and using his skills. The question is whether he is doing so with respect.

           Let me make an analogy with another topic about which I am more knowledgeable: adaptations of folktales from different cultures. I have written extensively about how this is done by children’s book authors, mostly very badly and disrespectfully, because they are ignorant about the traditions they claim to represent. Many of the authentic tales they adapt are unintelligible for children (and adults) in their original form. What someone like myself can do, who is knowledgeable about the traditions and concerned with preserving as much as possible of meaning and style from the originals, is adapt tales respectfully. I think of the great Italian author, Italio Calvino, who wrote a book of adaptations of Italian folktales. Calvino was a much better writer than the original storytellers were at telling stories. But we come away full of admiration for his sources not annoyed at a butcher, which is how I feel about most folk tale picture books.

           But, of course, we need access to original sources to know whether adaptations or innovations or superior skill are respectful not butchery. This again is a reason for making all the materials people have collected over the years available, as the Michigan Fiddlers website has been trying to do.

Eliot

 

Trae McMaken's Follow up to Eliot's Response:

 I like Eliot's response. I just wanted to add a few things for consideration. 

     I'm interested in folklore, and I even consider myself a folklorist. But when I play the fiddle, unless I'm specifically doing something where I've been requested to imitate someone else for folklore purposes, I'm an artist. I grew up in the modern tradition of fiddling, where people are influenced by festivals and different fiddlers, but also by their own region.  I don't consider myself taught -- I was taught to fiddle by many different fiddlers in person, though Canadian fiddlers have had perhaps the biggest influence on me musically over the years in the oral tradition. I grew up participating in fiddle culture. I don't see myself as a revivalist -- rather, I see myself as a practitioner within the tradition of fiddling playing.

      The standards for fiddling these days are much, much higher than they were. Reasons for this could be discussed, but that's not my goal. As a fiddler and practitioner of folklore, I consider myself both within my bounds and within my responsibility and necessity to create something meaningful to me and others, and when I do this from the basis of a tradition, the tradition changes. This is true to what live traditions are. 

Trae

Trae's Michigan Fiddle Manifesto (2012)

 

For the past year, I have had a growing conviction about the state of Michigan fiddling. Once prior I forged a manifesto similar to this but never used it. In this manifesto I use “Michigan Traditional Style” and “Michigan Old Time” interchangeably.

This manifesto is intended to spur thought and discussion. It's me finally saying what I've been thinking for some time now. It m ay be easy to disagree with it. It is intended as a spur to thought, not a hindrance to friendship.

Also, I don't think I know of anyone of Michigan's traditional style fiddlers who I don't appreciate for their efforts to support and promote the style, or who I don't like as a person. Thanks so much for great times, everyone!

In 1923 and 1924, respectively, Jasper "Jep" Bisbee and Colonel John A. Pattee became the first two Michigan fiddlers to commercially record. Being born in 1843 and 1844, the two represented a significant link with the past of Michigan's fiddling tradition. Both recorded the tune Mony Musk, which is the most commonly referenced tune in accounts of the immigration to Michigan of the 1830s and 1840s. The two fiddlers had remarkably different personalities. Bisbee played elaborate, technical, and likely pre-determined variations in a steady rhythm. It had the even, consistent spacing that is associated to some degree with the southern lower peninsula of Michigan, today. Pattee, on the other hand, played with aggression, verve, and what by listening I hear as a vivacious showmanship. His variations also have a much more improvisatory feel.

I tend to like Pattee, but both fiddlers were brilliant for their time period. They also had different backgrounds and purposes. Pattee was a stage and radio fiddler, though no doubt he also drew bread and butter from dances; he even called a dance while he played on one of his recordings. Pattee had a significant feel for showmanship and pleasing audiences. Bisbee on the other hand was a dance fiddler and likely had a much more reserved and careful personality than Pattee's.

As stated, two fiddlers recorded in the early 1920s. They were both about 80 years old when they recorded. At that time and especially prior in the lives of Bisbee and Pattee, fiddling in Michigan looked much different than it does today; it was comprised of all ages. Children, adolescents, young adults, middle aged adults, and the elderly were all playing fiddle music in Michigan. At the same time, ethnicities and cultures were mixing, creating creolizations of music that were bringing new sounds to old tunes. Creolization is often the source of some of the most interesting musical expressions.

At this period, Michigan fiddling and Ontario fiddling likely had much in common. Both areas had significant agrarian and lumber industry activity over the lives of Bisbee and Pattee, as well as interaction across rivers and in the thriving Great Lakes shipping scene. Immigration also helped insure a strong connection. Traveling around Michigan and Ontario at this time, it would have arguably been difficult or impossible to tell whether one was in Michigan or Ontario by listening to fiddling. One would have run into similar ethnic fiddling styles and similar developing creolizations. Similar repertoire also would have been encountered.

Reading accounts of the dance halls and house party scenes of those days, it is apparent that the youth, both dancers and musicians, were performing with verve and energy. In the dance halls that began to gain importance as automobiles became more accessible, fist fights and the drinking of liquor were by no means rare among the young males. People wanted to have a good time, and for young males, that often included carousing and rowdy behavior. The youth had energy and were looking for an experience that could express it.

Fast forward to the year 2012. Traditional Michigan fiddling is nearly gone, and few people have interest in it, least of all the youth. On the other hand, traditional Ontario fiddling is thriving and producing some of the best examples of fiddle playing in the world, with the youth of Ontario flocking to participate. Today, what are called Michigan Traditional Style Fiddling and Ontario Style Fiddling are distinctly separate and immediately recognizable to a familiar ear.

What happened?

This is one of the most intriguing questions I know. I have written quite a lot on this topic in the past and different aspects of the why could be teased out at great length. Industry and popular media in the 20^th century have something to do with it, I believe. Yet the main reason for this difference I believe to be the following:

In Ontario, young people kept fiddling in traditional Ontario style.

In Michigan, young people stopped fiddling in traditional Michigan style.

This cessation of young fiddling in Michigan style occurred sometime around 1950, give or take. But the exact time or the reasons for it don't matter for the purpose of this manifesto.

Sometime around the 1970s, the national folk revival really hit Michigan in its localized form. What took place was the formation of the Michigan fiddlers associations. The organization(s) really helped Michigan preserve a lot of its fiddling history and deserve to be praised for their efforts. With the folk revival came folklorists. Folklorists love older people and see them as preserving older styles; that's what folklorists are interested in. The fiddlers association really fit the bill, then, and only continued to fit the bill better and better as time went on. Lots of folks recorded people in this era, and when it comes to Michigan fiddling, the bulk of fieldwork available to us comes from the decades of 1970-1990. Since then, efforts to promote and protect Michigan traditional style fiddling have derived from this era's fiddling culture and fieldwork. The fieldwork is very useful. In fact, if it were not for the invaluable recordings, I would know very little about the actual playing styles of many Michigan fiddlers. That is huge thing.

Of course, there is a problem. Essentially, the folklorists were preserving older fiddlers. The fiddlers were generally elderly, and when they played for dancing, they were often playing for older dancers. Michigan Fiddle Style as it is now perceived is based on the physical and artistic exertions of the older generations, in a style that ceased to be influenced consistently by young people decades prior. Some of these old fiddlers helped promote an increasingly restrictive, protective, and localized idea of what Michigan fiddling was and is. Now, Michigan Traditional Style fiddling is often seen as even more restrictive than the early field recordings demonstrate that it was, and it has become exceedingly localized in some areas to refer only to a specific region and way of playing within Michigan. This way of playing is often associated with only one or a few individual old fiddlers out of what was really a selection of scores if not hundreds with different styles of playing. What's more complicated, the few fiddlers that got held up as icons were not necessarily by any means the most skilled fiddlers in the state or region. That does not mean that they are not extremely valuable and worth preserving. At the same time, as far as what is held up today as traditional Michigan Style Fiddling – Colonel John A. Pattee, born in 1844, might have been bored with it.

I love older fiddlers and value them highly, so please don't think I am ragging on them. But as a folklorist this is a problem. It is a bigger and a much more personal problem for me as a fiddler. It is the biggest problem of all for me as someone trying to promote Michigan fiddling to my generation and people younger than me. Why is that I, as a professional fiddler dedicated to fiddling, have had to consider that in order to play what people think of as "Michigan Style Fiddling," I have to play with little ornamentation, little verve, at slow tempos suitable to the dance of older folks (young people in the UP dance a schottisch with energy to this day)? Why do I feel like I have to play boring to be Michigan style? I don't mean that to cause offense, but it is a critical question to me. I have listened to a wide cross section of Michigan fiddlers from previous generations. They were doing some interesting and exciting stuff. I want to represent that.

I play for dances and I love to play for dances. Of course, playing for old dancers is not nearly as fun as the mixed age crowds I generally play for. I love to play Michigan repertoire at these dances. But make no mistake, I am not going to play them in the way typically -- and as a folklorist I believe erroneously – associated with Michigan Old Time Fiddling. And when I think of fiddlers like Walter Bartolomay, Colonel John A. Pattee, Brian Belleau, Coleman Trudeau, Dick Gravell, Helen Gross, and Ray Shepherd, I'm confident that I'm honoring Michigan fiddle traditions by allowing myself freedom to pursue my artistic tastes. I am innovating and playing Michigan Old Time both. The only way to accept that is to see Michigan Old Time, not as a dead tradition (in the way that Latin is a dead language) but as a living tradition.

Ontario Old Time didn't stop innovating, and to some degree, creolizing. It didn't shut itself off and try to preserve its elderly form. It allowed its young people to be young people and its older generations people to be themselves as well. Consequently, as an artistic expression, it has spirit and vitality. On the contrary, Michigan Old Time as an artistic expression is struggling.

Michigan Style Fiddling does not have to continue on its current path. In fact, I am confident it can be revitalized on a scale large enough to perpetuate itself. But in order to do so, it has to regain its sense of artistic authenticity. It has to become a voice for young people. Fiddling can do this; I have experienced it and I see it all the time in young people. Teaching in the Bluegrass, Old Time, and Country Music program at East Tennessee State University, I see scores of young people riveted and inspired by traditional music and driven to express themselves through it. I see the same across Canada, even just a handful of miles away from the border of Michigan.

And Michigan is full of young fiddlers. I think fiddle playing in Michigan is healthier than it has been in decades. Our state boasts some fantastic young fiddlers – such as Grammy-winning Jeremy Kittle – and there are fiddle clubs in the schools that have inspired similar clubs elsewhere. I recently spoke with a young, dynamic, skilled fiddler from Michigan who came to Tennessee to study Bluegrass. I sat and taught him a Michigan tune a few days ago and told him about Michigan style fiddling, hoping to get him interested. He grew up fiddling in Bluegrass circles across Michigan, and yet he wasn't familiar with Michigan old-time fiddling. These many vibrant young people in Michigan aren't playing Michigan Traditional Style fiddling because they are looking for something that inspires them and allows them to express themselves. Living traditions allow for this.

Michigan Old Time Fiddling can be inspiring, but not as it is generally presented. If I was going to try to get a young person interested in Michigan old time fiddling, I know of nowhere to send them – it would not be to the organizations or the jamborees, that's for sure, unless they are interested in studying folklore and could look past the generally low-skilled presentations of Michigan fiddling (some people are good players, but the standard of fiddling these days is high). I'm not trying to say everyone should be a brilliant, professional level fiddler or should be innovating or at least creolizing the music. But the Michigan Old Time tradition, to be alive, must allow for this. I don't want to offend anyone, and I support efforts to preserve Michigan fiddle history. As a folklorist and a historian, I like that stuff and find it valuable. But I play the fiddle for passion and art.

Without young people in Michigan seeing Michigan Old Time as an artistic expression that they can use to speak, that will be exciting, that will be meaningful, that will be fun, that will connect with their souls, then Michigan fiddle style will only be preserved by few folklorists. Not many young people with simply try to preserve a way of life that they didn't experience. I believe that Michigan Old Time fiddling can be inspiring. I perform it regularly and I attempt to do so in a way that connects with myself and the audience. I believe that unless young people see Michigan Style Fiddling being performed with a high level of artistic skill and artistic authenticity, then it will continue to struggle and shrink. In Ontario, there are many highly skilled, artistic fiddlers for kids and adults alike to look up to. I owe my abilities to the fact that I had people like Pierre Schryer to look up to. Michigan needs young, skilled performers to take on Michigan style and use it to speak their own hearts and meet their own artistic needs. Without that, young people will continue to look elsewhere for traditions that do allow them to be themselves. This goes for those performing on stage and for dances, and for those who just want to get together with friends and have a tune.

I am 26 years old and I'm a Michigan Old Time fiddler in what I believe to be an authentic style for a fiddler from where I'm from and with my experiences. I believe it is a style that honors the history and traditions of Michigan and my own life.

I am a young fiddler and I play Traditional Michigan Style Fiddle.

I syncopate. I alter my timing. I use many different ornaments. I like tempos that young people would dance to, but when not playing for dancing, I also play at tempos so audiences and young people will be excited listening. I use variations and improvisation. I creolize. I innovate. I push myself and don't want to hold back. I honor those who came before me, but I can do things beyond. I love the tunes. I play Michigan repertoire, and I have my own settings and arrangements. I do not want to play like an 80 year old fiddler of moderate skill, though I value what they have passed on to me. I learn from older generations, but I speak for myself, and I pursue more.

I am a young fiddler and I play Traditional Michigan Style Fiddle. It speaks to me, and I use it to speak.

This is my manifesto.

Again, I am so thankfully for everyone who has worked to preserve Michigan style music and for your kindness and encouragement to me. Please consider this manifesto as a spur to thought and not a hindrance to friendship.

Thank you,

Trae McMaken

 

Source:

History of Saginaw county from the year 1819 down to the present time. Comp. from authentic records and other sources: traditionary accounts, legends, anecdotes, &c., with valuable statistics, and notes of its resources, and general information concerning its advantages: also a business directory of each of the three principal towns in the county. Pages 73-74.

Commentary:

   The fiddle was present throughout frontier life: at wakes, weddings, births, dancings, workings -- and at theft and fraud. It is no surprise that while nativ e peoples were being cheated or coerced, the fiddle was present. 

Excerpt:

"INDIAN PAYMENT DAY IN OLD TIMES. There is a vast sight of difference in the Indian payment day of the present, and that of the " olden time "-long before Saginaw had attained to its present importance and standing. The writer of this had occasion to visit Saginaw City many years ago, at which time he had an opportunity of attending an Indian payment. About twelve hundred Indians of all " sorts and sizes," from the toddling papoose to the swarthy niche-nah-ba, were assembled together in the morning, upon the beautiful lawn which gently sloped toward the river in front of the council house. It would be almost impossible to give the reader an idea of the hubbub and " confusion of tongues " that prevailed upon the occasion. Aside from the twelve hundred Indians, were a variety of other characters, including the chattering Frenchman, the blarneying Irishman and the blubbering Dutchman, all mingling their discordant jargon with that of the vociferous Yankee. Groups of Indian boys, some exercising with the bow and arrow, others jumping, running, wrestling, and making the welkin ring with their noisy merriment, were collected in the vicinity of their respective tents.

                 The river, too, was covered with canoes, and here the " dusky maid" in a more quiet and becoming manner, was enjoying the occasion; and it was really surprising to see the dexterity and fearlessness with which she managed the " light canoe." A list of all the names of the heads of Indian families, Chiefs, &c., was taken by the Indian Superintendent-each Indian being entitled to a certain amount. The money to be paid, was placed upon a table in the council room, in piles of ten and twenty dollars each, in American halfdollar pieces. Around the table sat the Indian Superintendent, Interpreter, Clerks, &c. Commencing at the top of the list, a crier called off the names, the owners of which presenting themselves, were paid off, and immediately made room for others. It was amusing to observe the great number of friends that would gather around the Indian after te received his money from the paymaster. Here a trader suddenly recollects some debt of long standing against Mr. Indian-there a seedy individual with eyes and nasal promontory coleur de pinque, most seductively offering him a drink of river water slightly tinctured with poor whiskey, while one or two dear friends are advising him to look out for sharpers, at the same time intimating that the Superintendent has been paying off in bogus coin!

              In the evening, while the drinking Indians were rioting and carousing in the town, the evangelised natives were encamped upon the opposite side of the river, and the surrounding forest fairly resounded with their loud singing, preaching and praying. Instrumental music, from the fiddle to the Indian tattoo, might also have been heard arising above the " horrid din."

         The scene that presents itself at an Indian payment now-a-days, is altogether a different one, at least at Saginaw City. We are happy to see measures adopted to prevent the sale of intoxicating drinks to the poor Indian upon such occasions-would to God it might be prohibited upon all occasions."

 

Source:

History of Michigan, by Charles Moore. Pages 331-332.

Commentary:

Liquor was immensely important on the frontier. Trading companies used incredible quantities of it to cheat and control native people. This was not always legal. 

Here we also hear the name of an early Saginaw fiddler, "Uncle Jimmy Cronk." The title of "uncle" is a common one among fiddlers. 

Excerpt:

"The Saginaw region long continued to be an Indian headquarters and a station of the American Fur Company was established there. As late as 1834 Saginaw could boast of only one tavern, and that one had but a single bedroom. Two rows of cots were placed in the attic, and when there were women among the guests they went first to bed. When the company's little sloop Savage brought supplies from Detroit, the bluff old customs officer would repair on board and after a visit to the cabin would come up, smacking his lips, to give the requisite permission to land the goods. The same night a tap at his back door would be followed by the appearance of several demijohns containing the finest qualities of liquors. To the credit of the official it should be said that when the "leading families" of Saginaw gave their dancing parties they were always at liberty to send around after a demijohn, just as they would send for "Uncle Jimmy" Cronk to trudgethirty miles through the woods to fiddle for the dancing."

 

Source:

History of Saginaw County, Michigan; historical, commercial, biographical, profusely illustrated with portraits of early pioneers, rare pictures and scenes of olden times, and portraits of representative citizens of today. Pages 138-139.

Commentary:

Here we find out more about the life of early Saginaw fiddler, Uncle Jimmy. It is interesting that Uncle Jimmy liked to play, according to this account, only at such dances. 

Excerpt:

"Uncle Jimmy", the Fiddler

But it must not be supposed that drinking bouts, or Saginaw "trains" as they were usually termed, were the only form of conviviality indulged in by the early settlers. During the long months of winter they often had dances, and when one was all arranged to be held at the house of Mrs. G. D. Williams, Mrs. E. N. Davenport, Mrs. James Fraser, Mrs. Eleazer Jewett, or others, a messenger was dispatched through the woods some thirty miles to the cabin of James W. Cronk, to notify him that his services as "fiddler", were required at such a time. There were other persons nearer by who could supply the music for such occasions very acceptably, but the old citizens of Saginaw were too aristocratic to have any one play for them but their old friend and pioneer, "Uncle Jimmy", who always at the appointed time put in an appearance with a fiddle-box under his arm and his rifle over his shoulder. These were the only parties the old fellow would condescend to play for, but he never failed his old friends, and no one contributed so much to the enjoyment of the evening as he. James WV. Cronk afterwards volunteered in the Mexican war and received a captain's commission. He died some time after, together with his son, Norton, of yellow fever, at Vera Cruz, Mexico, deeply regretted by all the early pioneers. He was a man of more than ordinary ability, and one of the most genial of companions, as well as a great favorite among his associates."

 

Source:

 History of Saginaw County, Michigan; historical, commercial, biographical, profusely illustrated with portraits of early pioneers, rare pictures and scenes of olden times, and portraits of representative citizens of today. Page 181.

Commentary:

This excerpt comes from a later period of Saginaw history, roughly the 1850s. The mention of a harpist with the fiddler in this passage is interesting. I have suspicions that it may refer to a hammered dulcimer, but it may well have been an actual harp.

Excerpt:

"But in the winter we had a jolly good time, the few of us that were here. The young fellows would hire the hotel dining room for the evening, then go around and get their girls and until 12 o'clock there would be a good time. Tom Willey was the fiddler and Joe Hatzel the harpist. Those who came from the other side crossed the river by means of a scow, pulled by a rope with an old German, named Fritz, as the man power. A pioneer of those days can recall any number of interesting events of early Saginaw."

 

Source:

History of Saginaw County, Michigan; historical, commercial, biographical, profusely illustrated with portraits of early pioneers, rare pictures and scenes of olden times, and portraits of representative citizens of today. Page 409.

Commentary:

The magic lantern was a type of image projector. 

Excerpt:

"In 1843 James C. Fuller came to Chesaning and soon after purchased a farm and erected a log cabin in which he lived alone during the Winter of 1843-4. In the following Spring he was employed by George W. Chapman and lived on his farm for about two years. In the Summer of 1845 he built a house on the river bank on the east side of the village, and about the time it was finished the first show ever exhibiting in Chesaning came to the village. It was in his house that the few settlers assembled to view the magic lantern show, after which a fiddler from Owosso furnished music for a dance."

 

Source:

Indian and pioneer history of the Saginaw Valley : with histories of East Saginaw, Saginaw City, and Bay City, from their earliest settlements, also pioneer directory and business advertiser for 1866 and 1867. Page 19.

Commentary:

This is a mention of perhaps the most repeated incident of Saginaw fiddle history; the drowning of Archie Lyons. Archie was a trading post agent, and on his way via ice skates to fiddle at a party, he was drowned.

Excerpt:

"Archie Lyons was another trustworthy agent of the Messrs. Williams, whose history is identified with the Saginaw Valley prior to the Treaty. He was a fine penman well educated and a inusician of no little skill. He was located at the little Forks of the Tittabawassee (Midland City) and in coming down fron that point, on the ice, upon skates, for the purpose of playing the violin for a dancing party at Saginaw City he was drowned. His track was found upon the ice the next day, to the edge of the hole into which he had skated, leaving no doubt as to his fate. His, widow, a bright and agreeable woman, of French and Indian extraction, who rejoiced in the almost unpronouncable name of Ka-ze-zhe-ah-be-no-qua, became afterwards the wife of Antoine Peltier of Pine-ne-con-ning; a second marriage that was undoubtedly justifiable if her object was to free herself from her most remarkable Indian name."

 

Source:

History of Genesee county, Michigan. With illustrations and biographical sketches of its prominent men and pioneers. Page 28.

Commentary:

Here is another account of the accident.

Excerpt:

"Archie Lyons was a trustworthy agent of the Messrs. Williams [Gardner D. and Ephraim S. Williams, traders at Saginaw, and on the Tittabawassee], whose history is identified with the Saginaw Valley prior to the treaty. He was a fine penman, well educated, and a musician of no little skill. He was located at the Little Forks of the Tittabawassee (Midland City), and in coming down from that point on the ice upon skates for the purpose of playing the violin for a dancing-party at Saginaw he was drowned. His track was found on the ice the next day, to the edge of the hole into which he had skated, leaving no doubt as to his fate." —Io,. C. P. Avery. "

 

Source:

History of Saginaw County, Michigan; historical, commercial, biographical, profusely illustrated with portraits of early pioneers, rare pictures and scenes of olden times, and portraits of representative citizens of today. Page 93.

Commentary:

Another account, very similar to the first, from a different source. There is another besides this, but it is so similar as to not bear repeating yet again.

Excerpt:

"Another trusted agent, who was identified with the history of the valley before the treaty of 1819, was Archie Lyons. He was a fine penman, well educated, and was a musician of skill, playing the violin very effectively. He lived at the Little Forks of the Tittabawassee, now known as Midland. and in skating down on the ice one winter's day, for the purpose of playing for a dancing party, he was drowned. His tracks were found upon the ice next day, to the edge of a hole into which he had plunged. His widow, a bright and agreeable woman of French and Indian extraction, who formerly had an almost unpronouncalble name of Ka-ze-zhe-ah-be-no-qua, afterward married Antoine Peltier, of Pine-ne-con-ning, again freeing herself from a remarkable Indian name."

 

Detroit and Grosse Point

Source:

Grosse Pointe on Lake Sainte Claire. : Historical and descriptive.

Commentary:

    I like Detroit history because I like North American French history. People seemed to especially remember the early French in Michigan in terms of celebration and festivities. Here is a nice picture painted of such events.

Excerpt:

"These lands are now being drained by ditches from which the water is pumped by wind-mills; but only a few years ago the road we are now passing over was "navigable for small craft" during several months in the spring. Under the ancient French regime the " Cabaret du Grand Marais," or Big Swamp Tavern, was located in this vicinity, near the shore, and was the resort of wedding, racing and picnic parties throughout the winter months. The carioles drawn by fast pacing French ponies would glide merrily over the ice along the water's edge. At the Cabaret would alight the black eyed demoiselles with their chattering swains, and, after a toothsome lunch of (pate de gibier), game pie, or of succulent (poisson blanc) white fish, washed down by copious libations of (liqeur de peche) peach brandy, they would join hands in "la dance ronde" to the inspiring strains of a cracked fiddle. Nowadays the best we can do is to demolish a dish of frogs on toast with such liquid accompaniments as appetite may suggest. Away off on the distant Pointe we notice a white Lighthouse. It was built in 1838 and rebuilt in 1875. It shows a fixed white light varied with red flashes, the light being visible for thirteen miles. The tower is fifty - one feet high. This locality is known as "Presque Isle" (almost an island), and otherwise as Windmill Point, from the ancient stone windmill whose ruins now lie along the shore. Opposite Windmill Point is "Isle au Peche" (Fishing Island), called by some Peach Island, perhaps because there was never a peach on it. It is said that during the summer season Pontiac made it his home."

Source:

Commentary:

    In French Detroit, farms were spread out along the river, with each one possessing a narrow sliver of riverfront, with long and narrow farmland extending away from it. The farms were essentially long strips of land. No doubt, this increased the sense of community and safety along the river as the settlers lived close together and each had access to the waterways.

Excerpt:

"In social life the French characteristics predominated. Judge James May, an Englishman who resided here from 1778 until he died in 1830, said, " The citizens all lived then like one family (referring to the time he came), had Detroit assemblies, where ladies never went without being in their silks. The people dressed very richly. Assemblies were once a week, and sometimes once a fortnight. Dining parties were frequent, and they drank their wine freely." After the day's business was over in summer the older citizens spent their evenings in social visiting, and by the younger in paddling their own canoes on the blue strait, by moonlight promenading on the green lawns beneath the extensive orchards of pear-trees, or along the gravel beach, or in dancing at the farm houses,, by turn, which fronted the river, not more than four arpents apart, from the city to Grosse Point. A fiddle was in every house, and music would soon bring sufficient numbers together for a dance any pleasant evening. The following order was recently found among the papers of the late patriarch, Joseph Campau. JANUARY 17, 1807. Mr. Campau will please furnish for the Grand Marie Party on Saturday next, provided there is carioling, a qr. of roast beef and a pair of fowls ready for the spit. MAJOR ERNEST. JAMES ABBOTT. James Abbott was brother-in-law of Gen. Whistler, U. S. A., and postmaster at Detroit for a quarter century until 1832, and manager of the American Fur Company's business in Michigan for same time. The following description of the " Grand Marie Party " is from Mrs. Sheldon's History: "In winter, when a vast sea of ice separated them from their eastern neighbors, and their Indian allies were far in the depths of the forest engaged in the chase, the denizens of the fort and of the crowded town gave themselves up to unrestrained pleasure seeking. Three dr four miles above the city was a large marsh called by the French Le Grand Marais. It extended down to the river brink, and when the autumnal rains came the entire surface was submerged, and the wintry frosts soon converted it into a miniature sea of glass. In the absence of sufficient snow for sleighing, the Grand Marais, which could be readily gained by the icy margin of the river, was a favorite drive for the citizens; and late in autumn the young men of the town would erect on its border a long one-story building, with stone chimneys at each extremity, and furnished with rude tables and benches. Every Saturday morning during the long cold winter, carioles, filled with gay young men and laughing girls might be seen gliding over the glassy surface of the ice-bound river, or, if there was snow, flying along the river road, where now extends the broad and beautiful Jefferson avenue, each finally landing its freight of life and beauty at the Hotel D u Grand Marais. The box seats of the cariole were always well filled with mysterious baskets and packages, which were speedily transferred to the aforesaid long tables, and soon the rattling of the dinner service was heard in the lulls of the gay chatter of the French girls; and the aroma of the, fragrant Mocha escaped into the frosty air in delicate smoke wreaths-an incense of anticipation to the coming repast. As soon as the dinner was over, the tables and benches were removed, and dancing commenced, which continued until the booming of the evening gun at the fort warned the merry party that "The evening shades might be but vantage ground For some ill foe."  The next day, Sunday, after morning mass, the gentlemen were accustomed to resort to the Grand Marais and spend the day in carousal and feasting on the remains of yesterday's store. Sleigh riding on the ice, and ball and parties in town, filled up the week's interim. The summer's earnings scarce sufficed for the winter's waste. "

Source:

Historic Michigan, land of the Great Lakes; its life, resources, industries, people, politics, government, wars, institutions, achievements, the press, schools and churches, legendary and prehistoric lore, George Newman.

Commentary:

This excerpt begins with a note about a British politician who was attempting to curry favor by hosting a party. It does include a very interesting note about Jean Baptiste Beaubien, who is obviously an interesting historical character.

Excerpt:

"At another time he writes: "Have proper booths erected for my friends at the hustings; employ Forsyth to make a large plumb cake, with plenty of fruit, &c., and be sure let the wine be good and plenty. Let the peasants have a fiddle, some beverage and beef." Jean Baptiste Beaubien, one of the founders of Chicago, and a noted fiddler at every dance in the early years of that village, was born in Detroit, September 5, I787. He was a cousin of Angelique Cuillerier. The change of government finally came in I796, when the English left and the Americans came in. It was not an unexpected change, and yet it made such an impression on the Canadian citizens who left the place rather than submit to the American rule that they gave it the name of the "Exodus," a name by which it is familiarly known among their descendants even today. The newcomers were from New York and New England stock, and they brought with them some new ideas, amusements and holidays."

Source:

The city of Detroit, Michigan, 1701-1922.

Commentary:

Here we have the sale of fiddle strings in 18th century Detroit.

Excerpt:

"In 1775 Sterling sold some goods to "Drouin, schoolmaster at Chapoton's." In the same year he sold to Lieut. Jehu Hay (afterwards lieutenant-governor of Detroit) "one spelling book 2/6." He also sold Lieutenant Hay various other items, boys' hats and shoes, two rings and some fiddle-strings. "

Source:

The history of Detroit and Michigan. Silas Farmer.

Commentary:

For the interested, the below is a link to a poem found in a county history about Detroit with references to dancing and fiddling. Because of its length and lineation, I'll refrain from posting it here.

Excerpt:

Read the Poem.

 

 

Source:

Early days in Detroit; papers written by General Friend Palmer, of Detroit, being his personal reminiscences of important events and descriptions of the city for over eighty years.

Commentary:

The following excerpt and the one to follow are two of my favorites not just in the Detroit area but in Michigan in general. It shows the constancy of dance in early Detroit but also includes a how some folks found the dances -- a remarkable method.

Excerpt:

"The Detroit &.Black River Steam Mill Co. had their saw mill and lumber yard just west; and opposite the tannery yards were quite a number of saloons, a French dancing house and billiard room; also located in the vicinity were two or three other dance houses, and it was said a seeker after a chance and place to "trip the light fantastic toe" had only to get on top of any of the lumber piles nearby to determine where it was located by the sound of the fiddle. "

 

 

Source:

Early days in Detroit; papers written by General Friend Palmer, of Detroit, being his personal reminiscences of important events and descriptions of the city for over eighty years.

Commentary:

Here is another reflection on the same by the same person, with some added information about the orderliness of the dancing.

Excerpt:

"What Shoepac says in regard to the fiddling and dancing among the French habitants is true to life, as I can testify, having seen so much of it andi participated in so much of it. I think I have mentioned elsewhere how the young fellows in the early thirties used to get on the top of the lumber piles of the Detroit and Black River Steam Mill Lumber Co., near the foot of Beaubien Street, to locate the dance by the sound of the fiddle. That part of the town then was decidedly French and scarcely a night passed without one or two dancing parties. They were orderly, too; no nonsense permitted."

 

 

Source:

The city of Detroit, Michigan, 1701-1922.

Commentary:

Here is an example of what I consider an unfortunate religious situation that would possibly have made Jesus cringe, and as a Christian, it certainly does me. It stands to mention that I know one Jesuit brother today who both calls and fiddles for dances in Michigan.

Excerpt:

"The Rt. Rev. Octavius Plessis, Bishop of Quebec, Canada. "My Lord: "After having visited the different stations that form the Catholic Church of Detroit, I have reason to believe that the people's inordinate love of social pleasures, evening gatherings and dances, was the cause of their immorality, idleness and extreme poverty. I protested with all possible vehemence against balls in particular. I succeeded, with God's help, in convincing them that all or nearly all of them committed thereat a number of sins, that certainly it was for every one a proximate occasion of sin, and consequently that it was impossible to allow them. Perceiving that my words had made a salutary impression, I publicly forbade balls and reserved to myself absolution of the sin which would be committed by those who should lend their houses for such entertainments, and of any musician who should play at them. Moreover, I forbade the priests to give absolution unless the penitent promised to forego these gatherings. Thus far this peremptory action has succeeded perfectly, and last week a fiddler of my diocese refused an offer made to him of thirty dollars if he would play two nights at a dance at Malden. I am persuaded that the Canadians of your diocese could be led to adopt similar rules by threatening them with the same penalties; thus the law being a general one, its observance would be neither so difficult nor so odious as it is at present,, for now those so disposed who no longer have a chance to dance on this side cross over to yours, where they can dance with impunity, to compensate themselves for the deprivation at home. I am accused of strictness, of meddling, etc., in a word, the devil is leaving nothing undone in order to re-enter the kingdom, whence, with God's help, I was fortunate enough to banish him. If you see that these balls can prudently be prohibited in your diocese under the same penalties, please authorize me by letter to announce the fact, and before I leave I shall establish the same rules on both sides of the river."

 

Source:

The history of Detroit and Michigan. Silas Farmer.

Excerpt:

Here we have a good picture of what the French Sunday of Detroit looked like.

Commentary:

"When I first came to the place, Sunday markets were as common as week-day ones. The French brought in their meats, fowls, vegetables, etc., on Sunday as regularly as on week-days. After selling out they would go to church, attend mass, and, perhaps, confess, and pay for absolution out of their market money, and then go home apparently in good spirits. Nor did the American and foreign population generally pay any more respect to the day, for they patronized the thing to the fullest extent. On this practice I proclaimed a war of extermination. At first it made a stir. But a young Presbyterian preacher, who was there, joined me in the denunciation of the practice, and, in a short time, the city council decreed that Sunday markets should cease, and in place thereof a market should be opened on Saturday night. This raised a great fuss among the French, who, from time immemorial, had thus broken the Sabbath, and, after market, gone to mass, then to the horse-races in the afternoon, and fiddled and danced and played cards at night; but they made a virtue of necessity, and soon yielded to authority and gave up the Sunday market, but adhered to the other practices." 

 

Source:

Historic Michigan, land of the Great Lakes; its life, resources, industries, people, politics, government, wars, institutions, achievements, the press, schools and churches, legendary and prehistoric lore. Page 156.

Commentary:

The following is a description of Detroit in the first years of the 1700s. It might be the earliest name of a fiddler that exists in Detroit.

Excerpt:

"I am quite positive that they had no glass utensils of any kind. The mirror that was used for purposes of shaving and of the toilet was of tin, and the windows were of skins scraped as thin as possible. The nearest article to glass that I can find in any of the early records is a porcelain ring and some glass beads, but in two or three instances I found mention of tin mirrors, and I have two or three contracts to complete dwellings, where the contractor agrees to put in good skins for windows, and in one case of an exchange of properties, one party agreed to remove the old skins that had become thickened by action of the elements, and replace them with new, thin ones. There were few musical instruments at the place. A few tin horns, Ioo tin trumpets, probably brought here to sell to the Indians, for the citizens were too old to be amused by such toys. It is possible, however, that these horns and trumpets were sometimes used by coasters, on the hillside at the water's edge, for we may well believe that even the older people allowed themselves, sometimes, to indulge in this pastime, when the snow and frozen waters of the river and bay just below the post permitted it. I have no evidence that there were any skates here or that skating was indulged in. I do know that Jerome Martiac dit Sansquartier had a violin, and I presume it was frequently called into requisition in the long winter evenings-but where the people danced I do not know, unless they used the church or storehouse for that purpose-for their dwellings were so miserably small that little room could be found for such a purpose. Frenchmen, however, are noted for their vivacious temperament, and it is not hard to believe that there being a will they soon found a way, and that on many occasions they "chased the glowing hours with flying feet" to the music of Sansquartier's old violin. At an early day Cadillac brought three horses to the settlement, but two of them died, and the one remaining horse "Colon" was the only nag of which the settlement could boast when Cadillac left in 1711."

 

 

Source:

The history of Detroit and Michigan. Pages 349-350. Silas Farmer. 

Commentary:

This is a fantastic reference to "lilting," or the singing of dance tunes using vocables. It was common where instruments could not always be procured.

Excerpt:

"Soon after my arrival here I was married to Miss Cuiellierrie, who desires to be remembered to you in the most grateful manner and returns you hearty thanks for your civilities to her whilst at this place. Although several different names are given in these extracts, they all referred to the same lady, Miss Beaubien, who was notably brilliant and accomplished. All gatherings of young people were enlivened by music and dancing, and if no violinist was to be obtained there were not a few demoiselles who could lilt the dancing tunes so blithely and so well as to make the violin almost needless. When th.e English came the officers made sad havoc with the time and thoughts of the lively maidens of that time; and in the warp and woof of revolutionary days, the scalp-cry of the Indians, the drum-beat of the garrison, and the howl of wolves, were mingled the music of the ball-room and the gay laugh of merry dancers. Captain Grant, of the navy, wrote to a friend, "We hop and bob every Monday night at the council-house." Later on dancing parties or assemblies were arranged for by subscription, and several invitations to these gatherings, written on the back of playing cards, are preserved. Some of the amusements of 1789 are described in a letter written by Miss Ann Powell, who was here in May of that year. She says: As soon as our vessel anchored, several ladies and gentlemen came on board; they had agreed upon a house for us, till my brother could meet with one that would suit him, so we found ourselves at home immediately. The ladies visited us in full dress, though the weather was boiling hot. What do you think of walking about when the thermometer is above ninety? It was as high as ninety-six the morning we returned our Visits. Whilst we staid at the fort, several parties were made for us,- a very agreeable one by the 65th, to an island a little way up the river. Our party was divided into five boats; one held the music, in each of the others were two ladies and as many gentlemen as it could hold. Lord Edward and his friend arrived just time enough to join us; they went round the Lake by land to see some Indian settlements, and were highly pleased with their jaunt. Lord Edward speaks in raptures of the Indian hospitality; he told me one instance of it which would reflect honor on the most polished society. By some means or other, the gentlemen lost their provisions and were entirely without bread,'in a place where they could get none. Some Indians travelling with them had one loaf, which they offered to his Lordship, but he would not accept it; the Indians gave him to understand that they were used to do without, and that, therefore, it was less inconvenient to them; they still refused, and the Indians then disappeared and left the loaf of bread in the road the travellers must pass, and the Indians were seen no more. Our party on the Island proved very pleasant, which that kind of parties seldom do; the day was fine, the country cheerful, and the band delightful. We walked some time in the shady part of the Island, and then were led to a bower where the table was spread for dinner. Everything here is on a grand scale; do not suppose we dined in an English arbor! This one was made of forest trees and bushes, which being fresh cut, you could not see where they were put together, and the bower was the whole height of the trees, though quite close at the top. The band was placed without and played whilst we were at dinner. We were hurried home in the evening by the appearance of a thunder storm; it was the most beautiful I ever remember to have seen. The winter season furnished many a scene of gay festivity."

 

Source:

Early days in Detroit; papers written by General Friend Palmer, of Detroit, being his personal reminiscences of important events and descriptions of the city for over eighty years. Pages 407-408.

Commentary:

Here is a reference to a Detroit dance school in 1840. Also, an interesting reference to a man who almost dances himself to death.

Excerpt:

"OVER the store of Cook & Burns, on Jefferson Avenue, Miss Barker had a dancing school, the only one in the city then (1840). She lived there with her brother and family. The dancing was done in the parlor. Barker was a musician and played on a number of instruments, the violin being the chief. He furnished the music when sober, but was so rarely in that condition that Miss Barker had to sing or hum. dancing tunes, and we would do fairly well, considering the orchestra. She had quite a class of boys and girls from the first families and, although her methods were crude, she succeeded in making her pupils pretty fair dancers. Many that I know and remember received their first and only lessons from Miss Barker-some of them pretty good dancers, too. Fancy a dancing school waltzing to the tune of the song,"Dark-eyed one, dark-eyed one, come hither to me," hummed by the teacher. Levi Brown occupied the other part of this brick store (his family lived upstairs) for many years, until into the forties, and then moved to New York. He dealth in jewelry, clocks and watches. Chauncey S. Payne was his partner and succeeded him in the business for awhile, then moving to Flint. Levi Brown was the inventor of and the first to manufacture the gold pen in the United States or elsewhere. He used to charge five dollars for the nibs alone and people thought them cheap at that. A nice man was Levi Brown and a Christian gentleman. After Mr. Payne, Mr. Sibley, from Canandaigua, N. Y., occupied, the premises and dealt in the same kind of goods as Messrs. Brown and Payne. ADAM COUSE. Speaking about dancing schools, somewhere in the forties these buildings were swept away to make room for the Masonic Hall, with stores underneath, and in one of these stores Mr. Adam Couse, assisted by C. F. Amsden, opened a music and piano store, and had a dancing school in one of the rooms attached to the hall. Mr. Couse was a finished dancing master and introduced here all the new dances as fast as they appeared on the carpet east. He had a large class at once. and gave universal satisfaction. He almost danced himself to death and had to give it up."

 

Source:

Early days in Detroit; papers written by General Friend Palmer, of Detroit, being his personal reminiscences of important events and descriptions of the city for over eighty years. Pages 652-653.

Commentary:

Here is an early French house party -- romanticized, but the mention of specific dances is helpful.

Excerpt:

"Payee, who lived on the bank of the river, just above Judge Leib, was a jolly, rollicking Frenchman, and it was at his house more than any other up the river that the French dances came off, almost weekly, during the winter. They were liberally patronized by the young bloods from the city, who were always eager to bask in the smiles of the pretty French girls, whom they knew, and whom they were sure to meet. Have any of you that read these lines ever been to a French dance given in a French farm house, not in a tavern? If you have, then you know all about it. The large kitchen and living room, with its polished floor, quaint old-. fashioned furniture, the tall clock in the corner, the huge castiron plate stove of two, stories, brought from Montreal in the early days, in which a scorching heat could be engendered in short order. "Music in the corner posted," which consisted of two violins. And then the gathered company, eager to begin, which they did always early in the afternoon, and kept it up until the small hours in the morning. No round dances, only Money-musk, Virginia reel, Hunt-the-grey-fox, French four, the pillow dance and occasionally a cotillion. It did not seem to me as though the feet of the dancers would ever grow weary moving to the inspiring music of "French four," given on a violin, and as a Frenchman alone could give it. Refreshments were also ample, served in primitive style, of course, and of good quality. Then the going home with your best girl, if you had one. or the going home with any of the girls, was a pure delight. "In the lingering by the wayside and the tarrying on the door-step, in the light of the winter moon, there were many tender words spoken and solemn vows exchanged, and many a good-night kiss stolen before the pretty girl, her cheeks painted by the frost and rosy with the touch of her rustic lover's lips, went blushing into the kitchen to say 'good-night' to the wife of the house and to dream of her joy in her little low chamber, where the same moon stole in that had witnessed their plighted vows on the doorstep.

"I can't remember what they said,

     'Twas nothing worth a song or story;

Yet that rude path by which they sped

       Seemed all transformed and in a glory

 

The snow was crisp beneath their feet,

       The moon was full, the fields were gleaming;

By hood and tippet sheltered sweet,

        Her face with youth and health was beaming

 

Perhaps 'twas boyish love, yet still,

             O listless woman, weary lover;

To feel once more that fresh, wild thrill

         I'd give-but who can live youth over?"

 

But there were other houses besides Payee's where the inmates were quite as jolly. Abraham Cook owned the farm a short distance above Payee. All these had to be reached by the River road. Jefferson Avenue was then opened up only as far as the residence of the late C. C. Trowbiidge. I do not call to mind the names of the owners of the farms between the Cook farm and the water works, but think they were all of them of French descent. One of them must have been, as is evidenced by the small apple orchard, and the group of sturdy French pear trees yet remaining. The apple and pear trees are entirely unprotected, and it seems to me the owner, whoever he is, ought to look to it that they are not destroyed. They have survived the wear and tear of all these years, and deserve to live as long as possible."