buried beneath the altar of the old church. In 1851 the present Church of the Assumption was built and the remains of Fr. Potier were re-interred beneath the altar of that edifice, which still stands. Two other priests had in the meantime been interred beneath the altar of the old church, but the remains of Fr. Potier were easily identified by his tall stature and by the hole in his skull where it had been punctured by the point of the andiron.

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F

CHAPTER V

DETROIT Two HUNDRED YEARS AGO

AR-FLUNG battle lines are apt to get out of alignment

and far-flung trading posts tend toward corruption.

Most of the Indian wars of the United States have been the direct or indirect results of corrupt practice in remote trading posts. Commandant Alphonse Tonty at Detroit adopted a get-rich-quick policy. The Indians were plied with liquor and badly cheated. Trade began to fall off and furs from Detroit began to find their way to Fort Orange or Albany, N. Y. The Indians became angry. Settlers became nervous and began to leave. Presently there were less than 30 left.

The Indians had taken to agriculture under instruction, and for a time raised wheat and other cereals enough to supply Detroit and other trading posts, but the cheating discouraged them and then they raised only enough for their own needs. Tonty died in office, leaving the affairs of Detroit in bad condition. The government of New France decided that a thoroughly competent and honest business man was needed to take charge of civil affairs here. Once again by a fortuitous combination of circumstances, the man, the issue and the job made fortunate conjunction.

In 1730 Robert Navarre, a native of Villeroy, Brittany, came out from France with strong recommendations to the governmental authorities. As his name would imply, he was a scion of nobility, being a direct descendant of the eighth generation of Henry IV of Navarre, King of France. Robert Navarre was sent to Detroit as intendant of the post and he took charge that same year. In 1734 he married Mary Lootman, commonly called Barrois, and they reared a large family. He held his post steadily until the French possession was surrendered to the English in 1760 and for some time thereafter he was in the employ of the English government in the same capacity, serving

as magistrate, notary, interpreter and controller of fiscal affairs, to the complete satisfaction of all parties concerned.

His family continued in honorable esteem through every change of sovereignty. They were loyal to the English during the English régime and loyal to the Americans later on. When

the War of 1812 came, there were 36 Navarres in military service on the American side, and their descendants are now scattered all over the country.

In early days the area now covered by Detroit contained a number of large creeks besides the Savoyard River. One of these flowed down from the northwest through a deep ravine which crossed Michigan Avenue just north of the present Michigan Central station. The banks of the ravine were afterward graded down and the Michigan Central railroad tracks were laid on the filled-in bed of the stream down to Third Street in 1848.

That old stream disappeared long, long ago, but in 1730 it was known as Cabacier's Creek. In 1734 a dam was built across

the creek and a grist mill was built which ground all the flour and meal of the settlement for several years. After the American occupation the name was changed to May's Creek. A number of settlers who lived at some distance from the fort erected windmills for their own and their neighbors' use. One of these, known as Knagg's Mill, stood for many years where the western boulevard now ends at the river front. Another old landmark windmill gave the name to Windmill Point where Lake St. Clair joins Detroit River.

In the early days the commandants of Detroit were supposed to enjoy a rich perquisite but were required to pay their own expenses and maintain the post without government aid. This policy made the commandants greedy and most of them engaged in corrupt practice for private gain while they reduced their military force as much as they dared in order to curtail their expenses. In 1737 Sieur de Noyelle kept but 17 soldiers to defend Detroit. The trade in beaver fur experienced a boom in consequence of an unusual foreign demand in the 1730's. In 1735 178,000 pounds of beaver was shipped abroad from Quebec. This condition led to a petition to Count Maurepas, who had succeeded Count Pontchartrain as minister of marine, asking that more troops be sent at government expense and that the commandant be placed on a salary.

Old Detroit was a quaint sort of place in early days. The stockade of unpainted timber soon began to show signs of decay and occasionally rotten palings had to be replaced with sound timber. The houses, all unpainted and rudely constructed, took on a weather-beaten and rather dilapidated appearance. Some of the roofs sagged and walls became out of plumb, giving the older buildings a staggering effect, but the happy-go-lucky Frenchmen cared little for appearances as long as they were kept dry and warm within.

A hardy breed of rough-coated ponies had been developed in the St. Lawrence Valley and the more prosperous residents of Detroit imported these, and also a curious style of twowheeled vehicle with very long thills and without springs. The caleches which are still used in Quebec fairly represent the type.

The settlers made their own rude sleighs which were shod with straps of iron at the blacksmith shop.

Most of these ponies were pacers and some of them were very speedy. They were to be found at every one of the French farms which, having a narrow frontage on the river front above and below the town, were supposed to extend into the wilderness indefinitely. The length of these farms was finally settled at three miles. When these farmers drove into town they wanted to make an impression, so it was a common thing to see a pony driven down Ste. Anne Street at breakneck speed with the vehicle behind bouncing perilously and the wild-looking driver with long floating hair, covered by a conical fur cap, and a faceful of whiskers, swinging a long gad and giving utterance to wild yells, as a warning for all pedestrians to look out for their lives.

When two or more of these would meet in the street there would be a challenge for a race and as the ponies came tearing through the street only 20 feet wide, pedestrians sprang into the nearest door without ceremony. All the houses faced flush on the log sidewalk which was only two feet wide. It was in the winter that the "days of real sport" came. The favorite racing places were on the ice of the River Rouge and at Ecorse, and, in midwinter, on the ice of the big river.

There were no newspapers in the town and few people who could read one, even in the French language, so Ste. Anne's Church fulfilled the double function of supplying the souls of the inhabitants with grace, and their minds with the news of the day. After morning mass the leading acolyte would hastily doff his robe and take his stand on the little platform at the church door, where he would relate to the assembly gathered in the street all the news of the town and shore; giving notice of dances that were to be held during the week and of the horse races to be held after dinner Sunday afternoon. They were mostly a carefree, jovial lot. The streets of the town were noisy day and night with the folksongs of the old homes across the ocean. The sound of violins could be heard from many houses and dancing was the popular amusement in which young and old joined with equal