A Twentieth Century History and Biographical Record of Laporte County Indiana, Part 44

Author: Rev. E. D. Daniels
Publication date: 1904
Publisher:
Number of Pages: 1273

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Do fetishes, Indian and weird, Compel the chained soul as of old With charms so enthralling and deep? Unto death will they keep it in hold?

Oh God! wilt thou sever the chain? Give hope, as a recompense slight; Give faith to thy toil-wearied ones, That Immortality's dawn end the night.

Many of Miss Wilkinson's productions, waifs we might call them, which have appeared in the local papers, are worthy of a more permanent place. Out of many we select the following, which appeared in 1903:

"NOT HALF BAD."

There's more sunshine on earth than clouds, There's more of gaily robes than shrouds; More persons sane than persons mad;

For each lone wail, much laughter glad.

Though many failures there may be, Successes all about we see. Life ruined hopes not all assail; Ten thousand ships out-ride the gale.

There's more can see than there are blind, The wholly bad we seldom find. There's more to joy than to make sad, Which proves our world is "not half bad."

Mrs. Sara Andrew Shafer, the daughter of Dr. and Mrs. George L. Andrew, of Chicago, and wife of Carlton Shafer, Esq., has won a successful place in the literary world. Her par- ents lived for many years in LaPorte, and Mrs. Shafer's early life was spent here. For some

years Mr. and Mrs. Shafer have resided in Balti- more, Maryland, but recently they have moved to LaPorte, where they have been welcomed with warm hearts and open arms by all their old friends, and where Mr. Shafer has formed a law co-partnership with Hon. W. B. Biddle.

In a fine volume entitled "Historic Towns of Southern States," Mrs. Shafer has a chapter on "Frederickstown," and another on "Annapolis." In a companion volume entitled "Historic Towns of Northern States," she has a chapter on "Mackinac." Both of these books are published by Putnam's Sons. Recently the Macmillan Company has issued a book of which Mrs. Shafer is the author, entitled, "The Day Before Yester- day," which is said to draw its characters from LaPorte. It has met with such a popular recep- tion that it has already passed into the second edition. Out of a great mass of notices of this book, there is only one unfavorable one. Though the book has a manifest northern atmosphere about it, the Charleston (S. C.) Courier com- mends it highly. Mrs. Elizabeth Darling Hull, formerly of this city, says the first chapter is well worth the price of the work, it is so beauti- fully written ; others, that if one had never been acquainted with any of the characters the book would be enjoyed as a delightful child's story. The Baltimore Sun speaks in the highest terms of "The Day Before Yesterday," of which it says: "Sweet as the breath of June roses is this dainty story of the days of childhood," which it ranks with Kenneth Graham's "Dream Days." Even the Atlantic Monthly speaks of it with favor.

The writer of this history has done some- thing in literature. In former years he has been connected with the press in Boston, New York city, and elsewhere. He founded the paper, Every Saturday, published in Detroit, and for many years has been a writer of magazine arti- cles. At first he was not inclined to select any of his productions to appear here, believing that the reader would be satiated with these pages which are printed with little revision and just as they drop from the pen ; but at the earnest solicita- tion of friends, especially of the one whom years ago at the marriage altar he promised to obey, he has been induced to make two selections.

In one of his platform lectures on Art, where he makes the point that in all true art the artist

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does the least possible and nature the most pos- sible, occurs the following passage:

At one time I was never weary of looking at the Washington monument. It is a true work of art, because man has done so little and per- mitted nature to do so much. What has man done? He has piled stone on stone, making a plain, four sided shaft, severe in its simplicity, decreasing from the base according to a certain angle, and abruptly slanting to a pyramid at the top. Man has simply conformed to mathemat- ical and other laws established by nature, and which he could not change.

And now see what nature has done. Though that cold shaft is a most solid, it is at the same time a most spirituelle structure. It melts away into the clouds. I have seen it when its top could not be distinguished from the mists, but seemed to coalesce with them. At night it gives forth a lurid, phosphorescent light more powerful than the electric glare of the city. Again it rises like a white spectre against the background of an inky sky. Sometimes its top is lost far above the clouds. In sunshine the light gleams like a star from the metallic point of its apex. There are times when, observing it from an oblique po- sition, one of its sides appears white as the driven snow, while the other is dark. Ride toward it or from it in the street cars, and the monument approaches or recedes, enlarges or diminishes- the monument does this, not the observer ; such is the striking sensation. It is never twice alike. It has its moods, and its changes of color and ap- pearance, like the Swiss Alps. Sometimes not its top but its base is lost in the clouds, while the top is bright. This is when the blue mist for fully two hundred feet lies dense in the Potomac valley. Though of humble position-the very banks of the Potomac, it towers aloft, and is seen from afar. I have seen it in the sun and mists, when, two hundred feet from its base, there was a section of purple and pink surmounted with a white, blazing column hundreds of feet high flashing back the sun set glow against the welkin blue. I have seen it again with a cold, grey base rising above the deep green foliage that from a distance appears to surround it, with the dark blue highlands of Arlington beyond; and over- topping these, the magnificent shaft pierced the heavens far above the horizon line, till the top was lost in a sea of fleecy clouds. I have seen it in a thunder storm when its west face was black, the white completely blotted out, but at

every flash of lightning the entire, wet east face gleamed and flashed like a polished sword of the Titans with startling suddenness, and a ghastly streak of electricity seemed to leap from earth to sky. There is no other monument in the world that can exhibit such phases. Verily, what has man done to make the Washington monument a work of art! How puny his efforts! He has done very little-simply stepped aside that na- ture might appear. So with all true art; it is a transparent window through which the Divine is seen.

There is one other selection from his own pro- ductions which the writer makes, both by request and because it is connected with an event which is historic, both in LaPorte county and in the nation. On Saturday, September 14, 1901, President Mckinley passed away under circum- stances too well known to need repetition here. On the following day the pulpits of LaPorte, and doubtless of the whole county, were eloquent in their sorrow. On Thursday, September 19, there was a monster mass meeting in front of the court house in LaPorte. Party lines were obliterated. The city officers, the G. A. R. post and other orders, the factory operatives, the hose companies, and the school children headed by their teachers, all turned out in solemn parade. The band played national airs and dirges. A stand had been eretced, which was occupied by the speakers and others. Mr. John A. Wood, Superintendent of Schools, presided. Rev. R. H. Hartley, D. D., in prayer commended the Nation to God. The G. A. R. quartette sang ap- propriate songs. Superintendent Wood spoke on behalf of the schools. Hon. Martin R. Suth- erland spoke as the representative of the bench and bar. Rev. Frank A. Morgan spoke on behalf of the merchants and manufacturers. There was never just such a meeting in the county. Both as a whole and in every particular it was im- pressive beyond any description. The atmos- phere was of such a quality that the voices of the speakers could be heard by all, and many thous- ands of people stood around and listened with bated breath. Among the exercises the writer of these lines, as the representative of Patton Post, G. A. R., read the following poem which he had prepared in the still hours of the previous night :

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A TRIBUTE OF LOVE.

Toll high, toll low, Ye bells, your hammers throw ; A nation mourns her dead. No widow's weeds were half so sad, None ever worn so deep, As those with which Columbia's clad, 'Neath which her children weep; For her he lived from childhood up, For her at last he died; For her he drank the martyr's cup, A patriot true and tried.

Toll high, toll low, Ye solemn bells; for lo, A nation mourns her dead. Full well he knew the anarchist Might strike him in the dark,

The secret foe, like death, would list To find a shining mark; But still he took his life in hand, What e'er the place or time, To meet the popular demand, With calm that was sublime.

Toll high, toll low, Sad undulations flow ; A nation mourns her dead. He did not die with gasping breath, In that last week of pain ; Long years ago he died his death And need not die again; In early youth he gave his life To God the Father's will; And when he came to end the strife, 'Twas God the Father's, still.

Toll high, toll low, The knell from Buffalo; A nation mourns her dead. There gathered 'round the great, the just, The priest to breathe a prayer, And strong men wept to see the trust They had not known was there; He had no anger for the one Who did the awful deed, But, "Hurt him not, be justice done." This was our martyr's creed.

Toll high, toll low, Toll mournfully and slow ; A nation mourns her dead. Anxious alone to learn the truth That God would teach to him,

And quaff the cup of heavenly ruth, Filled to the very brim, He looked beyond the worthless wretch Who took his manly blood, To God who doth His arms outstretch For our eternal good.

Toll high, toll low, Let all the people know A nation mourns her dead.

The very last address he made, Upon the fatal ground, Outlined a universal trade, To skirt the earth around; No sect claims that expansive mind, To no one church 'twas given; But, for the blessing of mankind, And th' universal heaven.

Toll high, toll low, As out the echoes go; A nation mourns her dead. If ye who scorn authority, In many thousand forms, Will cease your baseless anarchy, Before the threatening storms; If men to law will bow the knee, Nor worship earthly gain, And like our martyr seek to be, He'll not have lived in vain.

Toll high, toll low, Your knell the breezes blow ; A nation mourns her dead. O men, who lightly pass along, Nor think the end to see, Why heed ye not the martyr's song, "Nearer, my God, to Thee?" God grant that ye may have a care, That, e'er your race is run, Ye too may pray the martyr's prayer, "God's will, not ours, be done."

As the writer recalls the above occasion, and many others in which he has participated during the past eleven years in this county, he finds that the roots of his affections have struck deep in the soil of LaPorte county affairs, and ramified in all directions, to an extent of which he has not been aware.

In the August election of 1850, the Hon. John B. Niles was chosen as a delegate to the conven- tion which was to prepare a new constitution for the state. The convention met in January, 1851,

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and began the work of devising the supreme legal instrument for the government of the state. Mr. Niles was an active member of that body. The convention had under consideration the propriety of exempting the family homestead from execu- tion. Mr. Niles arose in his place and made a remarkable speech, which was very largely copied by the papers of the country at the time, and with the most favorable comment. A long extract of this speech may be seen in Chapman's History of LaPorte County, pages 581-584, and it shows literary and mental qualities of a high order, in harmony with the scholarship which Mr. Niles was known to possess.

The Hon. Jasper Packard made many excel- lent speeches. One of them may be found in Chapman's History, beginning on page 589. It is a memorial address delivered at the decoration of the graves of the Union soldiers, and possesses true beauty of thought and diction.

Mrs. Emma F. Molloy, wife of Mr. Edward Molloy, editor of the LaPorte Herald, was known in the literary world for many years before her death. She showed herself to be an indefatiga- ble worker, both in the temperance and prison reformatory movements of the age, and so suc- cessful was she that there was scarcely a locality which did not know of her. She began a literary career quite early in life, writing articles for the papers at the early age of thirteen. But it was mostly on the rostrum that she attained her dis- tinction. She had a very valuable engrossed tes- timonial signed by ex-Governor Thomas Talbot, of Massachusetts, Rev. A. A. Miner, president of Tufts College, Wendell Phillips, and many others who presented it to her personally. At the first annual reunion of the Eighty-seventh Regiment of Indiana Volunteers, held in Hunts- man's Hall, LaPorte, September 24, 1869, she read a poem which she had written for the occa- sion, and which reveals her mental qualities. It covers pages 586-588 of Chapman's History.

In the year 1899 Mrs. Clara J. Armstrong published, through the R. R. Donnelly & Sons Company, Chicago, a beautiful little book of orig- inal poems. The book was put forth more espe- cially as a tribute of devotion to her many friends. The poems are sweet and refreshing and breathe a pure spirit. In the preface she says :

"Many years have elapsed since the first poem

herein was written, and materially LaPorte has changed. She has extended her boundaries in every direction, and has become more populous. The one long street for trade has now several branches, and room has been made at different points for various thriving industries. But the spirit of peace still nestles in the shade of her streets and long avenues, and she still retains that quiet, restful atmosphere which makes her distinctively a city of Sweet Homes."

The first poem, from which the book derives its name, is entitled "LaPorte in June," and be- gins as follows :

A city lapped on a fruitful plain, Bright clover meadows and fields of grain Wave around it, and send their sweets

To the cottage doors in the quiet streets. There are miles of heavenly blue on high, And miles of the richest emerald dye, Spread on the teeming earth below. Far as the dazzled sight can go, Save to the north, where the green line breaks

For the crystal flash of lovely lakes ; A jewel chain on the prairie's breast, That shines and trembles in bright unrest; As the happy earth swings day and night Out of the shadow into the light, Sings, as it swings to a joyful tune, Into the golden light of June.

In 1903 the Rev. R. H. Sanders, for forty years a minister of the Northwest Indiana Con- ference of the Methodist Episcopal church, now retired and living in LaPorte, though still hale and hearty, put out a book entitled, "The Men Behind the Bars, or Lights and Shades of Prison Life." S. B. Shaw, of Chicago, was the pub- lisher. It is a very readable octavo of three hun- dred and sixteen pages, containing fourteen illus- trations. It has twenty-three chapters, each one of which discusses an interesting and important subject. The object of the work may be seen by the following extracts from the preface :

During the wardenship of Charley Harley, George A. H. Shidler, and the present warden, James D. Reid, I have been frequently called to supply the place of chaplain in the Indiana State Prison. During my visits there. which at times were extended indefinitely, besides conducting religious services, such as the Christian Endeavor

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meetings in the school room of the prison, and preaching in the prison chapel at the regular services, I was given at all times the privilege of visiting the prisoners in their cells, where I spent many Sabbath afternoons. In this way I was brought into close personal contact with the men, many of whom told me of the unfortunate cir- cumstances leading up to their incarceration, and expressed earnest desire to be helped back to a better life. I became deeply impressed with a sense of their sad condition. Many of them, I felt, were not at heart criminals, but rather the creatures of unfortunate circumstances. I was also impressed with the thought, that the out- side world did not understand, or knew but little of the real nature and condition of many of these men. These impressions led to the production of this volume.

The leading design of the author in the pre- sentation of this humble volume to the public has been to awaken a deeper interest in behalf of the one hundred thousand prisoners of this country, and thus lead all who have the best in- terests of humanity at heart, in the Spirit of the Divine Master, to put forth more earnest efforts for their rescue. Also, to seek aid, and help to provide means and methods, by which the large class of unfortunate children, in our large cities and elsewhere, may be saved from entering upon, and continuing a criminal career.

Doubtless many in LaPorte county have read, "Snap Shots at City Life," in the Chicago Chron- icle. The author is Jean Cowgill, daughter of Mrs. Juliet Cowgill, still living, who was the daughter of Samuel Burns, of Westville, in an early day. Jean was born in Kankakee, Illinois, October 5, 1871. She was reared on a cattle ranch in Dakota, and did not go to school until she was fifteen. Her nurse maids were cowboys. She began to write about three years ago on Harper's Weekly, since which time she has been regularly connected with that paper. Since Sep- tember, 1902, she has been a member of the Chronicle editorial staff. She was also on the editorial staff of the New York Daily News and the Daily Herald. She proposes now to devote most of her time to the writing of magazine articles.

Mrs. J. B. Newkirk, sister of Hon. C. H. Cathcart, for years an inmate of the Ruth C. Sabin Home in LaPorte, in recent years has written and published, at her own expense, two

large octavo volumes. One is entitled, "The Captives," containing the experience of her father, James Leander Cathcart, who was eleven years a prisoner in Algiers. The other volume is entitled, "Tripoli." It is the letter book of James Leander Cathcart, first consul to Tripoli, and contains the inner history of Tripoli's war with the United States. Both volumes are full of interest and valuable for reference.

The Hon. Eugene W. Davis, of Galena town- ship, whose biographical sketch appears in an- other part of this work, has for many years been a contributor to agricultural papers. He is a recognized authority on the raising of plums, and has an orchard comprising all the approved varieties.

Mrs. B. A. Davis, his wife, whose sketch also appears elsewhere, has written many things which show wit and pathos and have true merit, from among which we select the following:

CHANGE OF NAME.

(This was Mrs. Davis' very first poem.) I have oft' heard of changing from better to worse, But in changing a name it should be the reverse; I've got a good name, and for that I am glad, Although, as you see, the initials are B. A. D.

ON THE DEATH OF A LITTLE GIRL, THIRTEEN YEARS OLD.

Dear little Minnie! sweet little maid!

You had all of life's sunshine, and none of its shade; All of sweet childhood, and none of life's sorrow, All of to-day, and none of to-morrow.

All of life's grandeur, none of its dross; All of its glory, and none of its cross; All of life's friendships, and none of its scorn; All of the roses, and none of its thorns.

All of life's lightness, and none of its cares; All of its freedom, and none of its snares; With much of the joys, that to mortals are given, You stepped from this earth, and landed in heaven.

Mr. C. D. Hess, who a generation ago was an operatic manager and impressario of extraordi- nary talent, and who for some ten or twelve years has been living in retirement on his farm, which he calls his "Hoosier ranch," near Westville, has been engaged for some time in writing a novel dealing with the early period of grand opera in America. He had long and varied experience

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in this line, both in this and in foreign countries. He was in close contact with the operatic stars of his time, and draws his characters from them. At the age of thirteen he entered the profession and when twenty-one years of age he became a manager. He managed the Baltimore Museum, Grover's National Theatre, Washington, D. C .; The Olympic Theatre, New York; the Pittsburg Opera House, Pittsburg, Pennsylvania; and Crosby's Opera House, Chicago, in the days when Forrest, Murdock, John Drew (the elder), Neafie, Barney Williams, Proctor, Charlotte Cushman, Julia Dean, Eliza Logan, Jean Daven- port, (afterward Lander), Olive Logan, Coul- dock, Buchanan, Charles Kean, Wallack Daven- port, Lotta, and other renowned artists were the stars who played their annual round of engage- ments in the theatres which he managed. The partners of Mr. Hess were some of the most re- .nowned theatre managers of the time with whom his associations were generally most agreeable. Pages might be written here of most interesting matter concerning the experience of Mr. Hess, and from all this, in connection with his well known abilities, some judgment may be formed as to what the forth-coming volume will be. He was not only a manager but had large expe- rience in the dramatic line himself. He says, "In rural life I have found much happiness, and it is probable that I shall live a farmer's life to the end of my days. I find there is no place in the world where the mind will work so clearly or where one can recall such pleasant memories of the past or write his memoirs or reminiscences or do other literary work so easily and so well as on a farm. No obstacles to literary inspiration are to be found amid orchards of peaches, pears, apples and grapes, nor in wheat or rye fields nor in pleasant pastures where the milk cows graze nor yet in the wild woods when the snow is on the ground and the frost festoons the trees. Can

we say as much for the big, noisy cities, with their thunderous pulsations of ceaseless but nec- essary and most absorbing commercialism?"

Among LaPorte county authors may be men- tioned also John M. Barclay, the author of "Bar- clay's Digest." He was reared in Washington, but came to LaPorte county to live, first on the farm now owned by Joshua Watson near Union Mills, and latterly in LaPorte. In the forties he was made assistant clerk in the House of Representatives at Washington. There also are John Mundy, Esq., formerly of LaPorte, but for many years an attorney in Chicago, who is the author of two very popular juvenile works; Dr. Orpheus C. Evarts, who is the author of a book of poems; Rev. George R. Streeter, a for- mer Methodist Episcopal pastor in LaPorte, who wrote the popular book, "Athens," the story of a college bred minister ; Dr. Franklin Hunt, author of "The Stream of Life," a chronological chart in the form of a river; Revs. George M. Boyd and John L. Smith, each of whom wrote a history of Indiana Methodism; the late Mrs. Dudley L. Wadsworth, nee Addie M. Buchtel, a successful writer of short stories for the popular magazines, who passed away December 12, 1901 ; Professor W. N. Hailman, Ph. D., former superintendent of schools in LaPorte, now an author of school books and educational works and a noted lecturer on education; William P. Burns, late of Michigan City, professor of history in Columbia University, University Park, Oregon; young Miss Morris, a story writer of Michi- gan City ; Jacob Reighard, L. B. Swift and wife, Claire Osborn Reed, Grace (Eliza) Darling, and many, many others; and besides all these there are hundreds in the ordinary walks of life, each one of whom has produced something worthy the name of literature; for, as Emerson has said, every person is eloquent at least once in his life.

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CHAPTER XXVI.

THE PROFESSIONS.

Wherever in the world I am, In whatsoe'er estate, I have a fellowship with hearts To keep and cultivate.

-ANNA L. WARING.

Formerly the learned professions were con- sidered to be the law, medicine and divinity ; latterly they have been considered as including also mechanical engineering, teaching, music and the fine arts, etc. LaPorte county has always been well represented in these professions; though in an early day and in some cases even now, the incumbents would hardly be called learned.

To begin with the ministry, one of the earliest preachers in the county was the Rev. James Armstrong, of New Durham township. He was probably the second minister who preached regu- larly in the western part of the county. They were his children who were lost while the father was out on the big circuit, as described in another chapter. The labors of Mr. Armstrong in this county were of very great value. He was a strong personality, a man of power, and his presence was felt. This fact gave the prospective settlers con- fidence in their new home. Those who were thinking of locating in the county would inquire about church influences; and when told of the presence and labors of Mr. Armstrong, they were satisfied on that point. This preacher was a Methodist, and was the first man who preached in the Methodist church in Door Village, which was built in 1833. Among his first converts was Christopher McClure, who died in 1875, and who in 1833 was converted in the old-fashioned, Meth- odist way, with powerful demonstration. He helped erect Union church, which is said to be he came into this part of his large district he

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A Twentieth Century History and Biographical Record of Laporte County Indiana, Part 44

Author: Rev. E. D. Daniels Publication date: 1904 Publisher: Number of Pages: 1273

Author: Rev. E. D. Daniels
Publication date: 1904
Publisher:
Number of Pages: 1273