The growth of a century: as illustrated in the history of Jefferson county, New York, from 1793-1894, Part 76

Author: Haddock, John A., b. 1823-
Publication date: 1895
Publisher: Albany, N. Y., Weed-Parsons printing company
Number of Pages: 1098

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quite certain that I had done a very foolish act. Not so the people-they thought it a big thing to have gone through with so much, and yet come out alive.

Several general conclusions and remarks shall terminate this narrative, already too long. "Why did you permit yourselves to go so far ?" will naturally be asked. To this inquiry I reply : that the wind was exceed- ingly light when we ascended; that we were very soon among the clouds, and consequently unable to take cognizance of our course, or to judge how fast we were travelling. It should be distinctly understood that when you are sailing in a balloon, you are uncon- scious of motion and progress, unless you Can see the earth. Even when you first leave the earth. you seem to be stationary, while the earth appears to drop away from you. Nor can you, when out of sight of the earth, although you may have a compass, judge of the direction you are travelling, if travelling at all. In a few words, unless you can see the earth. you cannot tell how fast nor in what direction you are travelling. This, perhaps, better than anything else, will explain why we unconsciously drifted off to latitudes so remote. When we arose above the thiek mass of clouds, before sundown, we undoubt- edly struck a rapid current that carried us north-east, and after we had travelled in this current about an hour, we probably struck another current, from the variation of our altitude, which bore us off to the north-west, for the place where we landed is about 30 miles west of due north from where we ascended.

When we first descended near the earth, and saw lights and heard dogs harking, we should have landed. But we were unwilling to land at night in a deep wood, even though we knew that inhabitants were near by, and we thought it best to pick out a better place. This was our error; and it came uear being a fatal one to us-it was certainly so to the balloon. In trying to find our " better place" to land, we were up longer than we supposed, and as we were travelling iu a current that bore us off to the northward at the rate of 100 miles an hour, we soon reached a point beyond the confines of civilization. J. A. H.

THE writer was one of the original sub- scribers who paid hard cash to establish a line of telegraph with Rome. Since that eventful epoch in the history of Watertown, there have been many improvements in all directions. The telegraphic system is now represented by two offices in Watertown, which city has nearly 20,000 inhabitants-but if you desire to send a message at night or before 8 o'clock in the morning, you cannot be accommodated. To people who have lived in large towns, this seems an unneces- sary hardship, and under such arrangements the people realize that the telegraph is an in- stitution for private gain, not for public ser- vice-and it furnishes the best possible argu- ment for government ownership and control.

357

THE AWAKENING OF HENRY BACKUS.

A ROMANCE OF THE BALLOON JOURNEY OF HADDOCK AND LAMOUNTAIN.

IN the preceding account of the balloon voyage made by LaMountain and Haddock into the Bos-ke-tong wilderness of Canada in September, 1859, allusion was made by the writer to one Henry Backus. The early his- tory of this man and the peculiar manner in which he was restored to civilized society and to his mother, from whom he had foolishly separated himself 20 years before, forms a story which would be called a "romance" were it not founded upon actual facts.

LaMountain and myself made our balloon ascension from Watertown, N. Y., and were carried by a swift northerly current far be- yond the bounds of civilization, landing in that immense forest in Canada, which is larger than the great States of New York. Pennsylvania and Ohio combined, and limited on the north only by Labrador and the Arctic circle. Having been rescued from starvation and probable death by the brave Cameron and his Indian guides, whom we providenti- ally encountered, we had reached, on our way "out of the wilderness," that frontier post of the Hudson Bay Company, known as Desert, where we were detained by inability to pro- cure Indians for the further prosecution of our journey, because one of Cameron's In- dians, who lived at Desert had circulated a story among his associates that we had come into that wilderness in a "flying devil," which had fallen from the sky. Naturally superstitious and densely ignorant, these boatmen readily concluded that we were really children of the devil himself, and un- desirable people to work for, even if well paid. We were very impatient at the deten- tion, and Cameron, who could take us no farther towards Ottawa, advised us to consult one Henry Backus, the local trader, who might be able to help us, for he sold "fire- water" to the Indians and had great influence with them. To Backus' little store, then, we went, and found him somewhat hard to ap- proach, as if he were suspicious of any attempt at intimacy; but when we told him our trouble and urgently solicited his good offices, he appeared anxious and willing to aid us. He struck me as being too intelligent and well educated for the position he was filling, as a small trader in so remote a place, but we were too much concerned with our own plans for reaching civilization to scruti- nize him very closely. He knew just how to deal with the ignorant river men, and soon had a crew selected who promised to depart with us at carly daybreak, so that we might reach Alexis-le-Beau before nightfall. The promise was redeemed, and in the morning we departed, and Backus saw us no more, but from one of us he was yet to hear.

Who was Henry Backus? To answer this inquiry I must take the reader back more than 50 years, to 1837, when there lived in

Western Massachusetts a family named Han- cock, consisting of the parents and two daughters, 16 and 18 years of age, the elder named Mabel, the younger Harriet. It is with Mabel we have more particularly to deal. She was above the average in beauty of person, bright and engaging, and, like most of her sex, well aware of her good points, and not by any means unmindful of the admiration she elicited from the young men of her neighborhood. As a result, she was often invited to the merry-makings of that section, accompanied sometimes by one, sometimes by another young gentleman-but for a long time she gave none of her admirers any special preference. In her 20th year, when the heart is said to be the most suscep- tible, she had two admirers who had distanced her hitherto numerous gallants, and whenever she went to church or to the country parties, one or the other of these was always her at- tendant. Henry Backus, one of these young men, was rather a silent and reserved, but really handsome young man of 22, well-edu- cated in the country schools, active and enter- prising, the comfort of his mother, who was a widow and the owner of a good farm, left her by her husband. Henry was somewhat in appearance like an Indian, tall and dark- skinned, and there was a tradition that the Backus family, a hundred years before, had been crossed by Narraganset blood.

Be that as it may, Henry was observant but silent, seldom gay and never frivolous, but he was popular among his companions, who gave him their full confidence, for they knew he meant all he said, and that his word was as good as most other men's bond. His competitor in Mabel's good graces was equally regarded, but in a different way. Witty, agreeable, full of vivacity and animal spirits, James Atwell was the life of every social gathering, greatly admired by the girls, and welcome in every circle. Although a year older than Henry Backus, he had not yet settled down to any serious pursuit, which, in his case, was thought to be a neces- sity, as his father had never accumulated more than a mere subsistence. James had twice left home, and had spent a whole year in a dry goods store at Worcester, Mass., but he had given up that business as too confin- ing. He had also taught the district school one winter, but was thought deficient in dis- cipline, and was not asked to teach a second time. While nothing could be said against him, the older people rated him mueh below Backus in prospective usefulness and posi- tion. The girls considered him as "just too nice for anything," but thought, and some of them said, that Henry Backus was "an old cross-patch." They unanimously predicted that James Atwell would have a " walk-over" in the contest for supremacy in Mabel's affec- tions. But this prediction did not have any

358

THE GROWTH OF A CENTURY.

speedy fulfilment, as both the young men were equally well received at the Hancock mansion, and so a whole year wore away without any material change in the relation of these young people to one another, but close observers saw that Backus was wonder- fully smitten with Mabel, a fact which he did not try to conceal. Yet it gave his mother considerable concern, for she well knew the intensity of his nature, and how restless he became under even slight disappointments.

A change, however, was soon to come. While returning from a dancing party in the winter of 1838, Henry proposed, and was at least partially accepted by Mabel as her future husband. At her request the partial agreement was to be kept a secret, much against Henry's wish, but he loved the girl too much to deny her anything. While this understanding was being faithfully observed between them, invitations came for the grand winter wind-up dancing party, to be held at the county town, and Henry was duly accept- ed as Mabel's escort thither. When the even- ing of the party drew on, he started in his sleigh for his companion, but the snow was deep, and in trying to turn out for a loaded team his cutter was upset, himself thrown out, and the horse ran away. It took fully two hours to recover the horse and reach the Hancock mansion, and then only to find that Mabel had become tired of the delay, and, in a moment of pique, had accepted James Atwell's proffered escort, and gone to the dance with him. Backus was thunderstruck, and finally burst Into a passion of tears, due as much, probably, to the excitement he had just passed through, as to the unexpected departure of Mabel with his rival. His jealousy was terrihly aroused, and he at once reached the conclusion that his delay had been gladly taken advantage of by her in order to accept the company of one whom she loved more than himself. He did not go to the dance, nor would he make much re- ply to Mrs. Hancock's trembling efforts to put Mabel's action in a favorable light, but went straight home and made such ex- planations as he could to his tearful mother. Talk as she might, she could not move him from a sullen fit of depression, which the night did not wear away, and in the morning he harnessed his horse and drove away, with a determination to have a final understanding with Mabel. He demanded that their betroth- ment should be made public, and be sanction- ed by her parents. That young lady bore herself during the interview with consider- able independence, declaring herself as satis- fied with what she had done, and captiously declined to ask her parents to ratify their en- gagement, which she declared was not con- sidered as final, but rather as a matter subject to further contingencies, in all of which she developed a feminine spirit of contention so characteristic of that sex. After much talk and expostulation they parted in anger, utterly estranged-she most likely believing that it would result in a lover's reconciliation, and never dreaming that she would not soon

see Henry Backus again. But with him the case was closed. He felt that he had loved and lost, and that, in the eyes of his acquaint- ances, he had been made a fool of by a heart- less woman. His fine sleigh was not used again that winter. The social parties missed him, and as the trouble between the lovers gradually came out (but though never a word from him). the country people took two sides in discussing the matter, nearly all the women upholding Henry; and the men, more gallant, taking the part of Mabel. But she, too, went no more abroad, refusing even to see James Atwell, though he both called and wrote. Doubtless, like many another, she felt a secret desire to repossess what she had recklessly thrown away, and felt too proud to make any effort towards a reconciliation.

Try as he would, young Backus failed to take his former interest in life. His mother's tearful face would at times force him to active exertion on their farm, but it was plain to be seen that his spirit was broken, and that a sullen despondency had taken possession of his inind. Having struggled along through the summer's work and the harvesting, he besought his mother to let him hire a steady young man to do the farm work, and then be allowed to go away for a while. His mother, thinking a change of scene would help her son, reluctantly gave her consent, and late in November, Henry left his home to become a wanderer. But travel as long and as far as he could, he found it impossible to get rid of himself. His burden would not be cast off. For a month he remained at Albany, and then went north to Watertown, Prescott and Ogdensburg, N. Y., and finally to Ottawa, in Canada. The Indian strain of blood, which it was said he had inherited, began definitely to assert itself, more vigorously, perhaps, at the sight of the adjacent forests, and he re- solved to leave civilization behind him and forget that busy world where he had been so sadly deceived, and with which he now had so little affiliation.

Those who have visited Ottawa will remem- ber the dense forest which environs that delightful city beyond the rapid river towards the north. Within a few miles of this Cana- dian capital you can readily lose yourself in the dense growth of trees; and into this then almost unbroken wilderness Henry Backus launched himself, fully resolved never again to live among civilized men. Farther and farther he jurneyed, until the stage route dwindled to mere "buckboard " travel, then to solitary paths marked by blazed trees, until Alexis-le-Beau, upon the Upper Gatineau, was reached, and then up that rapid stream he pressed a hundred miles to Desert, which was a mere fringe of clearing in that almost un- broken primeval forest. There Backus passed the late spring and summer. Gradually the need of employment for his mind and strength asserted itself, and he built a small log cabin with store-room in front, and began to trade with the Indians for their furs. When winter came on he made a journey out from the woods to Ottawa, where he perfected an ar-

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THE AWAKENING OF HIENRY BACKUS.

rangement for the annual sale of his peltry and for a regular consignment to him of such goods as his trade at Desert demanded. He was gone a month, and on his return took up his daily life as before, a solitary, independ- ent, silent man. I leave the imagination of the reader to depict his feelings, his yearnings for his mother, his moments of frantic love for Mabel Hancock, his resolve to break the spell that was upon him and return to his old home and friends, and for the reader to com- preheud the depth of a nature that could en- dure in silence a disappointment so bitter.

For a long time Mrs. Backus expected to see Henry walk into the house almost any day. She managed her farm much better than she had expected, saving something every year After five years had passed she lost faith in Henry's return, and almost gave him up as dead. She fell sick, and was in bed for a long time; then it was that Mabel Han- cock developed the good that was in her. Humbly she went to the sick woman's bed- side, confessed her undying love for Henry, took all the blame upon herself for his de- parture and long absence, and volunteered to . nurse Mrs. Backus through her sickness. At first she was not at all drawn towards the girl, but her remorse and self-condemnation so plainly attested her sincerity that she was permitted to remain She soon became a per- manent fixture at Henry's old home, and so won the mother's heart that they never separated. Jointly they managed the farm, and became so knit together by mutual regard that strangers looked upon them as mother and daughter. James Atwell had married Harriet and they had moved away, but Mabel did not attend her sister's wedding. Woman-like, she cast upon Atwell most of the blame for the unfortunate separation from her lover, when in fact she was the one mainly at fault, though there were those who thought Henry Backus himself not without grave responsibility for the turn affairs had taken. And so the years wore on until Mabel was nearly 40 years of age-comely in figure, but with a sad face, seldom lit by a smile. Her constant prayer was that she might be able to pay back to Henry's mother that fealty and support which had been lost when an unwise and needless quarrel had driven away her son.

The coming of the balloon men made an abiding impression upon Backus. He felt a return of that longing for home which he thought he had entirely conquered. He even found himself full of self-accusation, because he had not volunteered to personally accom- pany them to Ottawa, for from there he could have telegraphed or written to his mother. He found it difficult to put aside the influence these two eager, pushing men had exerted upon him. They were resolutely bent upon returning to that civilization he had been so willing to leave, and he began to feel a con- viction that they were right in their course and that he had been wrong in his. For three weeks this struggle went on in his heart until he began to realize the selfishness and folly of

his course. He felt like loathing his sur- roundings as wholly unworthy one who had in his youth given such ample promise of use- fulness and honor. Hard as was the struggle, however, and much as he felt the value of what he had to ruthlessly cast away 20 years before, it might have been doubtful what course he would ultimately have taken had not Providence unmistakably warned him that he was trifling with his own best interests, to say nothing of his disregard of filial duty.

About the middle of Octocer, 1859, a party of river men, on their way up from Alexis-le- Beau, the nearest postoffice, brought him a letter, which may have read as follows:

AT HOME, October 10, 1859.

MY DEAR SON, if indeed you are my son: I read last week in the Springfield Republican an account of the adventures of the lost halloon men, who gave credit to one Henry Backus. a trader at Desert. on the Gatin- eau river, in Canada, for having aided them in their efforts to return to their homes. My heart prompted me to write to Mr. Haddock, at Watertowo, N. Y., for a description of this Henry Backus. and Mr. H. immediately answered my letter. Making full allow- ance for the changes 20 years may have made I feel quite hopeful that you are my long lost and deeply mourned soo. If so, do not delay an hour. but come home before it is too late to see your poor mother, now past her 60th year, but whose prayer has ever been for her absent son.

Mahel Hancock has lived with me for the past 18 years. She is my stay and greatest comfort, and she desires me to enclose a word from her, for we are more and more convinced that you are my lost son. My heart is too full to write more, but if you are my son hasten to my arms, for a fresh disappointment or long delay may prove too much for my poor strength. Affectionately, your mother.

RACHAEL BACKUS.

The note enclosed was from Mabel, it read :

DEAREST FRIEND-If you are that Henry Backus to whom I was once betrothed in marriage, I feel that I owe much in the way of apology for the treatment you received at my haods when I was a young and inexperienced girl. My past life I offer as an evi- dence of my feelings towards you then and now; yet that life for many years has been a burden, which I could only have borne for your dear mother's sake. If you are the lost one you cannot be too quick in hastening to your true home, for your mother is not long for this world. Your attached friend,

MABEL HANCOCK

If Backus had been tardy in carrying out the plans which the coming of the lost balloon men appeared to prompt, he was on fire now with impatience, and counted every hour as lost that kept him from the telegraph. Placing a trusted clerk in charge of his busi- ness, he packed up his important papers, and, on the morning of the fourth day was in Ottawa, sending a message to distant Berk- shire that he was indeed the lost son, who had come to himself and would soon be there.

Having thus far dealt in facts, I will invite the reader himself to imagine that meeting, when Backus found under the same roof his beloved mother and that Mabel Hancock, who was thenceforth to reign as the undisputed idol of his heart. The natural inclination of a newspaper editor to follow out any incident of more than passing interest with which he had become interested, impelled me to make inquiry of Backus' subsequent career, as well as of all that might shed any light upon his history before we met him at Desert. On the

360

THE GROWTH OF A CENTURY.

1st of January following his return, he and Mabel Hancock were married, and the whole neighborhood shared in the merry-making. He soon sold his possessions at Desert, and settled down in a prosperous career, becoming a leading citizen of his native county. Him- self and wife were noted for their hospitality and open-handed charity, and it was especi- ally remarked that they were exceedingly lenient in their treatment of any one who had lapsed from duty or against whom society held its. doors askance. The poor and the outcast found ready sympathy with them, and no hungry wayfarer was ever sent away un- filled.

The casual reader may not be much im- pressed with the extraordinary means through which Henry Backus came to be fully "awakened " to his true condition, but those who take a broader view of these incidents, can perhaps discover in them the workings of that Supreme Omniscience which notes even the fall of a sparrow. J A. H.

WATERTOWN JEALOUSIES.

IN bringing nearly to conclusion these soule- what extended remarks, reminiscences, bio- graphical sketches and many strictly busi- ness details, pertaining to the city of Water- town, it may be well to state again the relation which, in our own estimation, that city sustains to the county at large. In the first place, and that is a matter concerning every man, woman and child in the county, it is the " county seat;" there the laws are adjudicated upon, there are the authentic records of land titles, those business keystones which interlock and closely bind the very fibre of community, and hold society together under the generic name of "law." There, also, are the records of crime, not often (let us hope) needed to be consulted. Water- town city, we repeat, is the geographical, educational, historical, financial and legal centre of the great county of Jefferson-a county with an historic name, a name that was alike honorable in its origin and person- ality, but has been honored and even made greater in this grand old county's keeping.

There are some aspiring and progressive villages in the county whose inhabitants affect to believe that they are retarded in their growth and best development by the jealousy of Watertown. But this is a delu- sion. No tax-payer in Watertown feels any- thing but the kindest sentiment towards all the towns and villages in the county. They are all more or less tributary, in the manner indicated, to Watertown, and for that very reason Watertown people wish them well. It is true that there was a time when a feeling of jealousy, such as is described, was felt in Watertown towards some of the other vil- lages, then vigorous and flourishing-notably Brownville and Sackets Harbor. When Col. Elisha Camp made his historie effort to divert a small fraction of the waters of Black River into his canal, which was to afford hydraulic privileges to Sackets Harbor, he desired to

take the water from a point below where are now the Gear and Wagon works-then, as now, a point beyond which the water was utilized to drive machinery. In this com- mendable measure he was defeated by some three men, who actually feared that if Sackets, in addition to its grand harbor and its loca- tion at the foot of a great lake, would retard the prosperity of Watertown; and so tlie Colonel was obliged to take water for his canal at a point about two miles above, which cost him nearly $10,000 more than if he had been allowed his own way. It is true that his canal was at last a failure, even though its course for several miles was in the bed of one of the most important waterways of Houndsfield (Mill Creek); yet the fact remains that the jealousy displayed by the three men who opposed him was as short-sighted as it was despicable. It is many years since any such feeling has existed in Watertown, and the prosperity of the villages of Jefferson county is now, and has been for the last quarter of a century, a matter of interest and hope to every enlightened citizen of that city.

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The growth of a century: as illustrated in the history of Jefferson county, New York, from 1793-1894, Part 76

Author: Haddock, John A., b. 1823- Publication date: 1895 Publisher: Albany, N. Y., Weed-Parsons printing company Number of Pages: 1098

Author: Haddock, John A., b. 1823-
Publication date: 1895
Publisher: Albany, N. Y., Weed-Parsons printing company
Number of Pages: 1098