History of Alexander, Union and Pulaski Counties, Illinois, Part 19

Author: Perrin, William Henry, d. 1892?
Publication date: 1883
Publisher: Chicago, Ill. ; O.L. Baskin & Co.
Number of Pages: 948

USA > Illinois > Union County > History of Alexander, Union and Pulaski Counties, Illinois > Part 19
USA > Illinois > Pulaski County > History of Alexander, Union and Pulaski Counties, Illinois > Part 19
USA > Illinois > Alexander County > History of Alexander, Union and Pulaski Counties, Illinois > Part 19

Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).

to stand and await orders to fire, but Hart knew he could not hear good, and so, the moment he got his, he" raised it in both hands and blaz- no, snapped. But matters were again adjusted, and he was told he must wait for the word to fire. The pistol was again placed in his hands, and again he pro- ceeded at once to raise it with both hands, and fi- no, snap again, and he dropped the weapon and fled for life toward town. He told his second two or three different stories about the matter. First, he was positive there was a general conspiracy to murder him, and, second, that he saw the police com- ing, and he thought it all great foolishness, anyhow.

But of the trio of the original Cairo journal- ists-Harrell, Faxon and Willett. It is diffi- cult to draw any comparison or parallel be- tween any number of men, all of whom are wholly unlike. These three men were alike in this only-they were all writers. The writer of these lines never knew Willett personally, yet, in some way, he has formed the opinion of the man, to the effect that he was purely a literary man in his nature, and always thought his chief talent was as a poet, and hence he wrote poetry for pleasure, and as a rule it turned out to be mere doggerel, but that, upon literary subjects, where he some- times drove his pen with a master's hand, he always felt he was a mere drudge, debas- ing the fine horse Pegasus into the meanest of dray horses. That he was of a nervous, sensitive turn of mind, and the rough-and- tumble bouts that Harrell and Faxon some- times gave him nearly killed him. Willett left Cairo before or during the very early part of the war, and is said now to be on the staff of the New York Herald.

Of Faxon we know more, both personally and by reading his writings. His pen bristled like the "fretful porcupine," and he

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shot the pointed quills sometimes in every direction. His talents were good, his nature genial and full of sunshine. He is living now in ;Paducah, Ky., as stated elsewhere, and may he be yet spared to develop fully to the world what we believe to be truly in him in the way of literary talent.

Of M. B. Harrell it may well be said, there is no name yet so impressed upon Cairo and its very existence as his-its mark is. every- where, and must co-exist with the city. After a long and thorough acquaintance with him, we have no hesitation in pronouncing him of the highest order of talent among the writers of his day. Of all the hosts that have vent- ured their editorial fortunes in Cairo, they ' found Harrell the Nestor when they came, and they left him in undisputed possession of his title and crown.

Mr. Harrell came to Cairo about 1845, a mere boy, to do errands about his brother's store and learn to be a clerk, if he developed talent enough for such promotion. His in- stincts [took him, at an early day, to the printing office, and here he went to school, and soon mastered the business to that ex- tent that he was an invaluable part of the office. When the war broke out, he was editor and proprietor of the Cairo Gazette, and quietly continued its publication after the military had taken possession of Cairo.

As to some of his experiences at that time, we permit Mr. Harrell to tell himself:

" In the early stages of the war, when nearly every prominent Democrat was in the Old Capitol Prison, and Logan was watched, and suspicioned Democratic editors in Egypt had a rough time of it. I was seated at my desk in the Gazette office one morning, when in stalked Col. Buford, attended by an Ad- jutant, and both of them in the dangling, jangling war accouterments in which showy warriors were wont to array themselves. ‘Is

the editor in?' asked the Colonel, in a tone of voice suggestive of hissing bombs, sword- whizzes and the spluttering of fired grenade fuzes. 'He is, sir,' I replied, with a not- able tremor of voice; 'I respond to that de- signation. What is your pleasure, sir?' ' I have this to say to you, sir, and mark me well, that there may be no misunderstanding. These are perilous times, sir; we have enemies at our front, sir, and more cowardly ones in our rear, even in our midst. Upon these latter I am resolved to lay a strong hand. I have to say to you, then, that if you publish anything in your paper that shall tend to discourage enlistments, encourage desertions, or in any manner reflect upon the war policies of the administration, I shall take possession of your office, sir, and put you in irons.'

"' I beg to assure you.' I replied, as soon as I could command composure enough to speak at ail, 'I feel no inclination to offend in that direction; but how can I shape my editorial labors so as to have a guarantee of your approval ? '

" 'Submit your matter to me, sir. If I find it unobjectionable, I'll return it; otherwise, I'll destroy it.'

" Then, with the bearing of a Scipio-a 'sce-the-conquering-hero-comes' gait and carriage-the Colonel and his Adjutant left the office.

" The next day, and the next, and the day after that, I laid before the Colonel a great deal more selected matter than I had pub- lished during the previous quarter. I clipped columns of stuff I had no idea of pub- lishing; tore several leaves from the Census Returns of 1860; levied heavy contributions from the stale jokes found in Ayers' Al- manac; long editorials from the St. Louis Republican; full pages from De Bow's Sta- tistical Review of the Southern Cotton Crop;

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' takes' of Ed Willett's newspaper poetry, and massive rolls of matter that I felt certain nobody ever had or ever could read without mental retching, and all this stuff I ‘respect- fully submitted for the Colonel's perusal and approval.' Palpable as they were, the Col- onel, evidently, did not ' tumble' to my tac- tics. On the evenings of the first and second days, the installments were duly re- turned, stamped with evidence of approval. On the evening of the third day, the roll of copy was returned unopened, but accompan- ied by the following explanatory and ad- monitory note.

" Editor Gazette: Finding that a close pre- supervision of the contents of your paper involves an expenditure of more paper and labor than I can bestow, and much more than I anticipated, I return to-day's installment unopened; exercise your cus- tomary discretion and allow the latent Unionism in your composition to assert itself, and the result, I dare say, will be as satisfactory to me as it will be creditable to yourself.

(Signed) B.

In the early part of the war, Cairo devel- oped to be just what its very first discoverers foresaw, namely, that in case of war it would be the one great, important strategic point- the key to all the military movements in the vast Mississippi Valley. Daniel P. Cook, the Delegate from the Territory of Illinois in Congress, and who framed the bill for its admission as a State into the Union, based his report and his speech in that behalf, upon the peculiar position of the Territory, and as clearly foretold, as did the war demonstrate, that Illinois was the natural keystone State to the great Northwest. From the early part of 1863 until the conclusion of the late war, the whole world looked with eager interest to Cairo. It was here that all eyes turned, in the hope of some word that would decisively settle the great and bloody questions that were raging so fiercely.

This brought here a swarm of correspond- ents, men representing at one time nearly every

leading paper in the whole country; and to give some idea of the magnitude of the in- crease of news that was furnished at this point, it is only necessary to say that from four to six telegraph operators were found necessary, and that often and often the news wires were doubled, and kept busily running night and day, and then frequently great rolls of copy were taken from the hook the next day that it was impossible to pass over the wires in time for the paper to go to press. The writer of these lines well remembers that at one time there were twenty-five men here who represented these different news- papers, and whose sole business was to allow nothing to escape them, and send it by light- ning dispatch to their respective papers. There were great jealousies and rivalries among the different representatives of rival papers. A correspondent would about as soon die as to allow his rival, or anybody else, to get up a " scoop" on him while he slept or closed his ears, and there was an equal rivalry among the respective papers backing each one of them. These corre- spondents, many of them, had instructions to spare no expense in getting news. “If necessary to get the latest and important news, charter an engine or a steamboat, and draw on this office," was substantially [the instructions that several of these news- gatherers had. It was the correspondent who failed to get the latest important news --- no matter how much money he saved-who was always summarily dismissed. And of course at that time, in this country, the New York Herald had the prestige for enterprise among all the papers. There was no other institution in the country until the war, that thought it worth while to try to compete with James Gordon Bennett; but the war brought much change here as well as in other things, and made many papers quite as daring in

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enterprise as the Herald. One of the pranks sometimes played by correspondents upon each other, was to race for the telegraph office, say just after a battle, and the first one who got the wire, by the rules of the office, could hold it until his ¿entire dispatch was sent. They would thus have a tremen- dous race as to who should get there first, and then it was an immense joke if he could hold it until, say, 4 o'clock next morning, when the morning papers all had to go to press. All the people of Cairo will remem- ber Frank Chapman, who came to Cairo as the correspondent of the New York Herald. This story was told of him: There had been a battle, and it was ten miles away to the telegraph office. He happened to be mounted on the fastest horse, and under whip and spur started as soon as the result of the fight was known. He was followed 'in full chase by the others, and it was a break-neck race; but Chapman got there first, but it was only by a few moments; in short, he was so closely followed, that he rushed into the office (none of them had their dispatches written out yet), and looking about, the only thing he saw was a copy of the Bible lying there. He seized that; opened at the first chapter of Genesis, and hastily with his pen- cil wrote above " To the New York Herald," and passing it to the operator, said simply, " Send that," and then sat down leisurely to write out his dispatch. It is difficult to imagine what must have been the thoughts of the news editor of the Herald, when the Bible was thus being fired at it over the wires, as it came chapter after chapter; in that regular order that indicated that probably the whole book was behind. But when Chapman had written out his account, he passed that to the operator, and it is very probable the first word of the real account of the battle

told the story of the trick to the New York office.

Poor Frank Chapman! The war over, he settled down, and tried to make a living in Cairo, by first one thing and then another. He organized the first Cairo Board of Trade, and was the first Secretary. Most unfortu- nately for him he was a splendid ventriloquist. In 1870, he went to Chicago, and there, after long suffering and great privations, died. The Herald had here, and in the field ad- jacent to this place, at one time or another, a dozen or more different correspondents. Among them the writer well remembers I. N. Higgins, now the editor of the San Francisco Morning Call. A brilliant writer, and one of the most genial fellows in the world. Newt! all hail! Another member of the Herald force was a Mr. Knox, who has since traveled pretty much all over the world, and published several books, one or more of which were written for the edification of the youths of the nation, and have earned a wide and solid fame for him.

Ralph Kelly was the Cairo war correspond- ent of the New Orleans Picayune; one of the most deceiving and one of the most brilliant and genial fellows that ever graced the town of Cairo. The writer of these lines had noticed Mr. Kelly in passing about the streets, and he was so very odd-looking in his make-up, that he got to inquiring of every one he met, Who is that ? After a long pursuit of this kind, he gained the desired information, and his informant not only gave the information, but followed it up with an introduction. Mr. Kelly was of Milesian extraction (which was plainly to be seen), and had been reared from early boyhood in the Picayune office, until he was about as much one of its fixtures as was any other part of the establishment. His whole life was

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centered there; he knew no other home, guardian, parents, or, apparently, place to go, either before or after quitting this world. He probably did not form twenty intimate or general acquaintances while in Cairo. In the presence of strangers, he stood mute, and sometimes appeared almost idiotic, and if, under such circumstances, he tried to talk and make himself intelligible, he apparently only made matters so much the worse; yet, locked up in a room with some congenial, well-un- derstood friend, or place before him pen and paper and instantly he was much as one in- spired. To know Ralph Kelly even slightly, was to read over and over, every day you were with him, the story of Oliver Goldsmith, and to recall what Johnson said, when he called him the " poll-parrot who wrote like inspiration. "

Ralph Kelly! Have you gone with the fleeting years, and, like them, gone forever ? If so it be, we would place one little faded flower to thy memory, typical of as pure a friendship as ever one being held for another.

E. H. Whipple was the Cairo war corre- spondent of the Chicago Tribune. We re- member him as a good-looking, round-faced young man, full of the energy and wakeful- ness that always got the latest news, and was certain it should reach the Tribune before he would sleep. He seemed to be a very retir- ing, quiet young man, and much to his credit it was, too, he did not join much in the convivialities that marked the existence of the Cairo life of most of the Bohemians. Mr. Whipple is now in some way connected with a detective agency in Chicago, and long since has given his Fabers to his babies for toys.

L. Curry represented the Cincinnati Com- mercial. A man of an eventful and a very sad domestic history. His wife, whom he married at the age of eighteen, when he was

barely twenty-one, dying with her child in about twelve months after marriage, un- der the saddest circumstances. Mr. Curry was a young man of good education, and had been reared under the most fortunate circum- stances. He was an excellent writer, a warm- hearted and most exemplary young man in his habits. He made so few acquaintances in Cairo-owing to the facts above referred to-that there are very few people here who will remember him. His history, after leav- ing here, is not known to the writer.

Charles Phillips represented the Chicago Times. He was quite a young man, but his writings came from his pen rapidly, and as finished, almost, as a stereotype. His cult- ure was unusual for one of his age-prob- ably twenty-four. The writer knows nothing of his history, except what he saw of him in Cairo. A more unassuming young man never lived, and his talents in his chosen line of profession were of the very highest order. He was a consistent, practical and conscien- tions Christian. He was very quiet in his manners, and his whole nature was such that he could not intrude his opinions or person. He died in the early part of 1864, we believe, at the home of his parents or friends, some- where near Metropolis, Ill., but of this (that is, the residence of his friends) we are not certain. He died of consumption; and for months, before he left Cairo and went home to die, we confess it was one of the saddest sights we ever saw, to see him suffering, working and wasting away, yet uncomplain- ingly working on, until his pen fell from his nerveless grasp. and the young life that would have been worth so much to the world went to sleep in death. Charley Phillips, may your sad and cruel wrongs, sufferings and untimely taking-off here in this world, have been a million of million times com- pensated in the next!

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H. C. Bradsby succeeded Mr. Phillips as the representative of the Chicago Times, and also enlarged the duties, and represented the Missouri Republican. His duties to the lat- ter were to furnish at least two letters by mail per week, in addition to duplicating the Times and Republican dispatches. We would not further speak of him here, but we realize a public sentiment will expect it, and to some extent, therefore, require it. He had none of Mr. Phillips religion or morals, and but little of his culture. He was at times (very brief) brilliant, but as a rule was more marked for daring than genius. It would be difficult to find two men more the perfect opposites of each other than were these two correspondents of the Times. Mr. B. continued to represent his two papers until after the war was all over, and Cairo had long ceased to be a great news point. He was then, awhile, editing or writing for first one paper and then another, and at one time or another edited or wrote for every paper pub- lished in Cairo during his residence here, except the Olive Branch. In his writings, he sometimes made people laugh, sometimes stare, and sometimes squirm, and he seemed ever equally indifferent as to which result flowed out from his pen. His character always seemed an inconsistent one; at one moment, perhaps, a great egotist, at the next, the picture of self-humility; and these were often and often exemplified in his writings. He had the art complete of making enemies, and holding them, when once made, perpet- ually; and his friends, therefore, were never numerous, but in a very few instances firm and stanch. What education he got (though nominally a collegiate) was in the columns of the different papers he worked upon dur- ing the twenty-five years intervening between his first experience upon the proofs of a country press and the present time. He gave

considerable attention, in a scattered, inco- herent kind of way, to the scientific writers of the past quarter of a century ; and has just now learned enough to cease to be dogmatic in his opinions-to believe little and know less.

W. B. Kerney was a long time in Cairo, commencing here as the agent of the As- sociated Press; afterward represented the Chicago Evening Journal, and then the Chicago Tribune. He was an odd little fellow, and quite as clever, when you came to know him better, as the best of them. He seems to have been, all his young life, much given to fall in with isms, and when once he had given anything of this kind his approval, he, for awhile, at least followed it with remarkable devotion. He was an honest, thoroughly good man in every re- spect. He was very industrious, and atten- tive to his business, and was probably the most even-tempered man that ever lived. Nothing could swerve him from the even tem- per of his way, or provoke him into an angry retort. He and his good little wife could almost always be seen together, and it was beautiful to see the rivalry between them, as to which could most admire the other. They were childless, and firm believers in the effi- cacy of the cold water cure for all the ills of life. They had been most unfortunate, in losing „several children dying in infancy. Upon one occasion, the man and wife were sick, and they were doctoring each other with. water, and eating about an apple each a day. Fortunately for them both, Dr. Dunning happened to be called in. He took in the situation, and ordered a good-sized sirloin beefsteak, overlooked its preparation, and made them eat it. To their amazement, they liked it, and they were soon well-better, in fact, than they had been for years-con- tinued to eat good, nutritious food, and the

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last accounts the writer had of them, they had three or four as fine, healthy children as you would want to see.

In all this vast amount of newspaper births and deaths, there were developed but two men who were purely and only publish- ers. Men who gave this department their undivided attention, and depended wholly upon hiring all the writing that they wanted. These were Thomas Lewis and H. L. Good- all. Each had a long career here, and each gave many evidences that under different cir- cumstances and surroundings they might have built up great institutions. Goodall could do the best combining and planning, but Lewis had the nerve for any venture that promised, even remotely, to pay as an invest- ment. When Mr. Lewis quit his old favorite, the Democrat, he seems to have made up his mind to quit the business, but not so with Mr. Goodall. He is now in Chicago, and is still a publisher, and we are more than glad to learn, at last a successful one. May his shadow never grow less!

In its proper place, perhaps, but the truth is, the very last place in the rear column, was always the best place for "Old Rogers," one of the most remarkable tramp printers even Cairo ever had, with all its hosts of distin- guished characters in this line. Rogers was a very good workman, but his habits were to prefer dirt and filth to fine linen and the breezes of Araby. He was a tramp printer, with all the term implies, and a great deal more, too. He was here about 1860, and made Cairo a central point in his rounds. Everybody then knew him, and un- derstood well that he considered it would be a hanging crime in himself to be caught even passably clean in his person, and so- briety and cleanliness were much the same thing with old Rogers. Yet at periods, he had to sober up enough to work, but this

necessity never arose as to his habits of per- son. He was smart, quick-witted, and much enjoyed telling how he often astonished and disgusted strangers, and if he was kicked off a train or boat, he relished telling the cir- cumstance immensely.

On one occasion, he had just arrived in Cairo from Evansville, and was surrounded by Postmaster Len Faxon, Deputy Bob Jen- nings, Sam Hall, Joe Abell and two or three others, all anxious to hear Rogers tell some of his recent experiences. "I'm just in from Evansville, boys," said Rogers, “,and, great Cæsar, I'm hungry. I was put ashore from a flat-boat at Golconda, because, as the crew said, I was too rich for their blood, and so I've just footed it all the way from there to Cairo, and if I've eaten a mouthful in four days, why, then I've eaten a whole army mule in the last two minutes. By George, to come right down to it, boys, I'm starv- ing."

" Well," said Willett, giving the boys a wink, "if I was real hungry, I'd call on Capritz; order a baked bass; a fry of oysters; a plain omelet, and ------ "

"But," chimed in Rogers, "I ain't got any money."

" If I were you," said Sam Hall, paying no attention to Rogers' impecuniosity, " I'd step into Weldon's; get a porterhouse steak with mushrooms or onions, some boiled eggs, milk toast, and -- "

" Oh, boys, don't," cried Rogers, in evi- dent agony; "you don't know how you're torturing me. I'm awful hungry, but I hain't got any -- "

" I don't know," interrupted Abell, " but a good lay-out for a real hungry man would be quail, nicely browned, on toast; quail on toast, mind you; a cup of good, hot choco- late; white hot rolls, with country butter, and -- "

6.4 inch

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" Oh, yum-um-yum!" muttered Rogers, laying his hands upon his stomach, and look- ing as if he would 'trade his hope in heaven for even a raw turnip; "oh, boys, -- "

. " Or," quickly added Jennings, " a cup of hot coffee-amber-colored Mocha-with gen- uine cream; a fried squirrel, or baked prairie chicken; cranberry sauce, of course, and a rich oyster stew to commence on, would be, for a real hungry man, mind you, about as toothsome a -- "

" Oh, boys," exclaimed the tortured Rogers, "hush! hush! for God's sake; for you're killing me! " And it much appeared as if, for once in his life, the poor man was telling the truth about something to eat. But an hour later, Rogers was the happiest man in town. The boys had staked him with a quarter, and with this he had got a pig's foot and three 5-cent drinks. His hunger had been appeased, and calling Joe Abell aside, he asked him, in the strictest confi- dence, if he knew of a cheap shebang, where a pig's foot would be considered a legal ten- der for a glass of whisky.

Among the many different reporters on the Democrat was one named Beatty, who will be remembered by the old Cairoites as a round, red-faced young man. He commenced his career in this place as foreman of the Morning News, and was for some time local, under John A. Hull, on that paper, and was then transferred to the Demo- crat. He left Cairo in the early part of 1866, and found employment as a reporter on the Indianapolis Journal. He died in In- dianapolis in 1867.

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History of Alexander, Union and Pulaski Counties, Illinois, Part 19

Author: Perrin, William Henry, d. 1892? Publication date: 1883 Publisher: Chicago, Ill. ; O.L. Baskin & Co. Number of Pages: 948

Author: Perrin, William Henry, d. 1892?
Publication date: 1883
Publisher: Chicago, Ill. ; O.L. Baskin & Co.
Number of Pages: 948