Letter from the West, Rock Island, IL, 1883

Letter from the West

Rock Island, Illinois in 1883

 

Mr. Editor--Rock Island, Ill., is quite an interesting place on some accounts.  The city itself is not extremely fine, though it can boast of some beautiful shaded streets, many handsome and some elegant residences and lovely homes, plenty of churches and schools, fine hotels, theater, etc.  The city is long and narrow, being built between the river and bluffs.  The view from these bluffs is truly magnificent, the city of Mohne lying to the east, Davenport across the river, with Rock Island itself at your feet, and the broad, beautiful Mississippi with its numerous steamers as far as the eye can reach.  At the upper end of the city lies the island itself.  This is government property; here Uncle Sam has a large arsenal, and there are in progress of construction several very large stone and iron buildings, in these will be all the necessary and convenient machinery for the manufacture of all imaginable articles used by the government in peace or war.  As we cross the long bridge from the city, we first see a small fort, looking down the river, mounting two large guns, while a mortar, like a watch dog, lies quiet but ready for use either end of said fortification.  Then passing up a fine shaded drive we come to the guard house and gate where with military precision we salute a soldier in uniform, show our passes and drive on.  Next are two gun-yards fenced by shot and shell, formed conically upon three sides.  In these enclosures are found the cannon and mortars from the wars of many foreign nations as well as those of our own, especially those used in our late unpleasantness. After viewing these objects of curiosity and interest, we look over an immense field of ambulances, ammunition wagons, artillery carriages, etc., all waiting their turn to be taken to the repair shop.  Now comes the shops and factories already mentioned, built of Joliet lime stone and iron, fire proof, and elegantly fitted up.  If my memory serves me right there wil be twnety of these immense structures when completed.  The island and its work is now under command of Col. Ziagler, a grand type of military officer.  His residence, on the island, as well as several other officers' quarters are of stone and nicely, yes elegantly, built by Uncle Sam.  The grand drives, walks and shades in most parts are simply perfect throughout the island.  Having examined all those points of interest let us remember this island was a rebel prison during the war, and we here find two cemeteries, the first one a smooth plateau surrounded by a fine grove is where the boys in gray sleep, 8,999 in all.  A few graves have head stones, the many have none.  the cemetery is marked at each corner by an inverted brass cannon and chains running around the entire field.  Beyond and facing the morning sun, is the resting place of our boys in blue.  At the head lies Gen. Rodman, a general in the army and former commander of the island, and projector of its present use, and inventor of the Rodman rifle gun.  In the center is a fine national monument, and all over this plot, pointing heavenward, are the headstones of our comrades. The gentle breeze fans their verdant covering, they heed it not, sunshine and storm pass over them, they are undisturbed.  Lulled to rest by the continual flow of the grand old river they sweetly sleep where loving hands have placed them, and nature could not have provided a more beautiful spot.  One is delighted to see the fox squirrel running from tree to tree all over the national home, and to see the rabbit skip from place to place and to hear the multitude of sweet songsters, all seemingly tame as if cared for my some gentle hand, and indeed they are, For Col Flagler does not allow any use of fire arms on the island, consequently these furry and feathered beauties are at home and happy.  --A well Wisher.