USA > New York > Suffolk County > Yaphank > Yaphank as it is, and was, and will be. Containing biographical sketches of all its prominent men, the characteristic proclivities of its "funny" people, its business and business "monarchs," its facilities for enterprise and improvement, > Part 6
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There is a system of cleanliness and exactness about everything Mr. Weeks supervises, and his farm and build- ings are models of neatness.
AS A RAILROAD MAN.
In 1834 a project was started by some prominent men in the city of New York to build a railroad from Brooklyn to Greenport.
Mr. Weeks early took a strong interest in the promotion of the scheme, and was one of the Commissioners named in the charter for receiving subscriptions for the capital stock.
In 1846 he was elected a director of the road, and in 1847 was chosen president-continuing in that office until 1850.
He has also been a trustee of Brookhaven Town for four consecutive years, a commissioner of highways, and filled other positions.
PERSONAL.
Mr. Weeks is a man of the day ; fully up to the develop- ments around him.
The record of his life-work is one that may be studied with advantage by every one possessing sufficient spirit of emulation to wish to learn the true secret of successful lives. The undoubted success which he has achieved appears due to the healthy, vigorous mental and physical education he received. He has a wide-awake, practical knowledge of the live questions that concern the world of to-day, and a sound judgment of his own, which he ever reserves.
Mr. Weeks has but little sympathy for the struggling masses ; possesses a calm, even temperament, with no love for notoriety, and no patience with any truckling for popu- lar applause, and no greed for the honors of office.
His public life has been marked with judicious actions, a firm conviction of his own ability, and a clear comprehen- sion of public policy and not civic rule. He and the Hon. William Sidney Smith wielded great and acknowledged influence during their active connection with the Long
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Island Railroad, and Mr. Weeks' administration was a successful and prosperous one.
Mr. Weeks has a spirit that was born to lead as well as to follow, and is nearly coherent with that class of men who are " born to command."
Few men have a better understanding of political and private economy than he ; and he is a gentleman of quiet but most genial manners, always true to his convictions of duty, and very efficient in his quiet but usually successful support of his ideas.
He lives apart from the village and the world in a beanti- ful home, whose greatest charm is a loving wife, who, for over half a century of years, has walked the sunset way with him.
Mrs. Weeks is a refined and accomplished lady, and is highly connected. She is a sister of Mrs. William Sidney Smith, a lady of refined and cultivated mind and manners, and the mother of a noble and talented family.
Mr. Weeks never boasts of his wealth, his position in life, or of his aocomplishments. He is a thorough business man, and wastes no time in useless debate or parley.
From the New York Times of Sept. 26, 1866, is extracted the following account of a daring attempt to rob Mr. Weeks, in his home at Yaphank. The spirited and business-like way in which Mr. Weeks usually disposes of difficulties, will be evidently apparent in the Times' description, which is as follows :
"On Saturday evening, soon after 8 o'clock, as Mr. and Mrs. James H. Weeks, of Yaphank. L. T., were sitting in a small front room of their house, in the eastern extremity of the village, a gentle knock was heard at the door of a nar- row entry adjacent. Mrs. Weeks called the attention of her husband to it, who arose to open the door. Having been in a slight doze, and not at once seeing clearly, he did not go directly toward it, which Mrs. Weeks observing, went herself and opened the door. As she did so, two men. with faces disguised, pressed through the entrance. At the
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same time, she saw two others standing outside. One of the former presented a pistol toward her, with a threatening ' hush !' while the other entered the sitting-room and aimed his pistol at Mr. W., with 'Your money or your life.'
" The words had barely been uttered, when Mr. Weeks, now thoroughly aroused, sprang toward the fellow, and with one hand seized the arm which held the pistol, and di- verted its aim, while he grappled him with the other, forc- ing him against the wall and window, and driving his elbow through the latter. The outcry of Mrs. Weeks brought in a domestic from another room, whom Mrs. Weeks directed to blow a horn. In the meantime Mr. Weeks' assailant, still firmly clutched by him, struggled toward and suc- ceeded in reaching the entry, through which they both went with a rush ; to avoid which the others precipitately re- treated, and in so doing overthrew a large box of earth and flowers, with its heavy supporting block, which, happen- ing to fall in the way, tripped the heels of the fellow, who fell backward, with Mr. Weeks on top of him. The fall disengaged the parties, when the fellow sprang to his feet and fled with the others, leaving a large black felt hat upon the ground, where it was presently picked up, and is still in Mr. Weeks' possession.
" The whole affair occupied less time than its recital, and had it not been for the resolute courage and activity of Mr. Weeks, who, by the way, is almost seventy years old, we might have had to report-what has lately became too frequent an occurrence-a bold and successful robbery, or something still more serious, instead of this unsuccessful attempt.
" We are happy to announce to the friends of Mr. Weeks that, with the exception of some bruises below the knee, oc- casioned by striking against the edges of the block, he came out of the struggle uninjured.
"W. J. W.
Monday, Sept. 24th, 1866."
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Thieves and house-breakers entertain a poor opinion of Mr. Weeks since. that occurrence, and leave him severely alone.
Mr. Weeks is one of the marked men on Long Island, and among the most influential. He represents the general convictions and aspirations of the class of men with whom he has long been connected. He may be wrong, but is never arbitrarily so. People may curse his actions, but can never deny his fixed and honorable motives. He has been schooled for defeat as well as victory, and neither can overcome him. Neither friends nor money can allure him from what he believes to be right, and nominations for office cannot corrupt him. He is no political tool, and never was, possessing no elective affinities of a great leader
XXIV.
HON. WILLIAM SIDNEY SMITH.
AS A MILITARY TACTICIAN-FROM THE DRAWING-ROOM ACROSS THE WILDERNESS-AS A PUBLIC MAN-PERSONAL.
Mr. Smith is a lineal descendant of Col. William Smith, the patentee of St. George's Manor, and was born at Long- wood, a portion of the Manor, July 8th, 1796.
At seven years of age he was left an orphan, and his edu- cational culture was under the direction of his uncle and guardian, Gen. John Smith, of Mastic, Long Island. After completing a thorough course, he entered the counting- house of Cotheal & Russell, in the City of New York. When twenty-one years of age he returned to his home at Longwood, and took possession of the vast estate inherited from his ancesters, and in the year 1823 he married Eleanor, a daughter of Major William Jones, of Coldspring, Queens County, Long Island, and settled permanently at Long- wood the following year.
AS A MILITARY TACTICIAN.
Mr. Smith has been a public man for over forty years. In 1815, while in the militia service in New York City, he was appointed an ensign in the 142d regiment of the New York State Infantry, by Daniel D. Tompkins, then Gov. of New York State, and in the following year was promoted to the lieutenantcy of a company in the same regiment by Gov. Tompkins. From that period until the year 1823, he continued in the militia service. After his return to Long Island, Gov. Yates tendered him a commission as
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Brigade Major, after which he was offered a commission as Colonel, which he declined.
FROM THE DRAWING-ROOM ACROSS THE WILDERNESS.
In the year 1819-over half a century ago-Mr. Smith undertook, and actually accomplished, a perilous journey from New York to Natchez, Miss., through a trackless wil- derness of howling forests and barren plains.
In those semi-barbarous days, and in that wild country, life was purely original, and it must have been an effort for a gentleman-born and bred within the delicate circles of refined life-to have burst the silk and satin ties and plunged into the then almost unexplored precincts of savage Indians and wild beasts.
He was obliged to adapt himself to the primitive and novel modes of travel ; the hardships of crossing mountains. fording streams. &c., and the many inconveniences of " roughing it." Having accomplished the desired business, he returned in safety, after an absence of four months.
AS A PUBLIC MAN.
Mr. Smith has held various town and county offices, and has been a public man for nearly three score years. He was County Treasurer for fifteen years ; has been Super- visor of the Town, a School Commissioner, a Trustee, and a Member of the State Assembly in 1834, '48 and '56. He has also been a railroad director, trustee, executor of many estates, and many minor offices of trust and responsibility has he filled, and always with honor to himself and satisfac- tion to his constituents.
His many years of official life are an undeniable verifi- cation of his ability and integrity, and the utmost confi- dence always reposed in him, a proof of his honor, ableness and solidity of character.
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PERSONAL.
Mr. Smith is of the medium height, about seventy-nine years of age, with a slight, erect form, straight as an arrow. His manners are quiet and nnostentatious. He is a man of great liberality, and a devout Presbyterian. He erected a handsome residence at Longwood, and reared a family of smart, energetic children. His sons are mostly public men, and inherit much of their father's popular spirit.
People know Mr. Smith but to honor him. Conserva- tives and Radicals, Democrats and Republicans, Catholics and Protestants, say nothing ill of Mr. Smith.
There is an air of frank benignity in his manner, some- times a tenderness in his tone, and always so sincere in his efforts to please that one is captivated with his society. He has a mass of information, anecdote, incident and story about earlier days that is interesting and pleasing.
Mr. Smith is a generous creditor. If a man cannot meet his contracts, and Mr. Smith is satisfied that he is honest, he will never press him. He is a liberal supporter of the gospel, and his family imitate his philanthropy. Like the immortalized Sidney Smith, he is a great joker, and a more merry, jovial man one seldom meets.
But the eye once bright is growing dim, and the ma- chinery of life runs no more with noiseless accuracy. The snows of many Winters have whitened the auburn hair, and the weight of years causes the stately form to totter.
Sidney Smith has been a busy man, and has taken an active part in the town and county affairs for many years, but his busy days are over. A few years ago he suffered a paralytic shock, and his health is greatly impaired.
His son Robert conducts his affairs here, and his sons and agents in the City of New York manage his business there and elsewhere. He is very wealthy, but to what ex- tent cannot be definitely stated. He has interest in rail- roads, banking and other stocks, besides thousands of broad acres.
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The pleasure is a sufficient remuneration for me to write of such men as James Weeks and Sidney Smith, and I ac- knowledge the honor and privilege of first recording in his- tory the most important facts connected with their lives and times.
Men who live peaceful, honorable and active lives, and who live for the benefit of others as well as for themselves and families, are men the world love to honor and read about.
Messrs. Smith and Weeks are men that have lived for some good in life ; men that have advanced enterprise, and men that may die, but can never be forgotten.
PHOTO.ENG CO.NY
SIDNEY H. RITCH.
SIDNEY H. RITCH.
STATION ISLAND- - WILLIAM GURNEY-FALL OF SAVANNAH
ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S DEATH-PERSONAL.
Mr. Ritch was born in the village of Port Jefferson, May 27th, 1840 His parents died when he was in his fourth year, and he was then cared for by his grandmother and uncle, who resided at Middle Island.
His father, believing he would financially better himself by removing Sonth, resolved to go to North Carolina, where, for several years, he followed the occupation of teaching, and aided in revising the school system.
He settled in Hyde County, and was appointed Presi dent of the Board of Education established there.
Young Sidney was left with his uncle and grandmother. and was happy in his pleasant home. He was sent to school at an early age, and received such an educational polish as could be obtained at the village school. The teach- ers were usually very competent. Among them was Doc. F. H. S. Holden, regarding whose ability it is needless to comment.
On leaving school he found his store of knowledge incom- plete, and has since been striving to add to what he then possessed. His favorite reading is the poetry of the best authors, such as Pope. Milton, Young. Southey, and others of acknowledged repute.
In the year 1859 the bud of his latent ambition burst, and he exchanged the common-place excitements of his rural home for the startling adventures of a "life on the ocean wave."
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He led the free-and-easy life of a "jolly tar" during the year of 1859, when he returned home and taught singing- school during that Winter. In the year of 1860 he again bade farewell to home, and entered as an apprentice to the carpenters' trade. In 1862 he says, "I felt a power of patriotism burning in my bosom. I thought, instead of taking three pills, that I would take three years in the army. Hearing that there was a dispensary at 308 Broad- way, New York City, I determined to secure a prescrip- tion. Some of my friends advised with me, and I resolved to try a 'dose.' I soon found my name enrolled among the 'true blues' of the gallant 127th N. Y. Volunteers. and met one thousand men equally as bad off as myself."
He says, " We were sent to
STATION ISLAND,
where we remained a few days waiting for equipments, clothing and State bounty.
"We stood guard with clubs and condemned muskets. which soon became monotonous. At last we received our clothing and equipments, but, instead of our State bounty. a stirring appeal to our patriotism from our Col.,
WILLIAM GURNEY."
Mr. Ritch has much of the Billings and Twain vein in his jolly composition, and his spicy descriptions of army life are decidedly entertaining and racy.
In one description of his soldier life he pleasingly says:
" We were cordially received at Baltimore and hospitably treated to a sumptuous supper-the last we were to enjoy for nearly three long years. We left again, en route for the na- tional capital, but were delayed at the Relay House nearly all night in consequence of a severe rain-storm, which swept away the track in places, thus rendering it unsafe for us to proceed in the night. We at last arrived at Washington, having passed two days and a night in cattle cars which
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looked like riddles. Finding ourselves at the capital. we expected soon to be introduced into more comfortable quarters, or, what would have been more pleasing, in- vited into the President's reception parlor, suffer the agonies of a private interview with the 'old man,' puff into oblivion a few of his choicest brands, listen to a round of his crackling jokes, and then be politely ushered into ele- gant sleeping apartments, whose downy couches were made doubly soft because a Simon Cameron or John Morrissey once found sweet repose in the perfumed foam of the snowy coverlets.
" While we were waiting in glorious anticipation of some- thing grand, we were sternly ordered to ' fall in.' 'right face ' and ' forward march " We bivouacked for the remainder of the night in the field, with the canopy of heaven for our ceiling, the verdant earth for our bed, and a shoddy blanket for a covering. Thus surrounded and shut in from the out- side world, we drew around us the curtain of repose, and for the first time laid us down to the peaceful dreams of a soldier. The remainder of the night we passed in heavenly slumber and bright dreams and brilliant visions of the battles of Gettysburg, Fredericksburg, Chancellorville and ' hanging Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree.'
" In the morning we awoke at the first tap of the drum. climbed up the hill, and fell in for roll-call. Each one an- swered to his name with an air of much uncertainty. We proceeded to take account of ' patriotism,' and found on investigation that it had depreciated about ten per cent. Some of the boys lost it all 'on the march' the previous night, and never deemed it worth going back after. Dur- ing the day the ambulances arrived with whatever had been thrown away, with the exception of the 'patriotism.'
" We spent the Winter of 1862 in the defence of Wash- ington, moving our camp frequently. From Arlington Heights we enjoyed a pleasant view of Gen. Lee's house. plantation, and beautiful surroundings. The residence is on the bank of the Potomac, and presents a magnificent
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prospect of the Capitol. Near the house is the family burying ground of the Custis family. At the foot of the hill and near the river is the tomb of Peyton Randolph. Before Lee denied the authority of his country, and raised his hand in rebellion, he possessed all that heart could crave to bind him with endearing ties to his home and country.
"In the Spring of 1863, we were ordered into the field. Then began our long, tedious marches. In the outside precincts of Frederick City we found the 7th encamped. We entered into conversation with them, and our hearts were stirred by their tales of suffering. Shelter tents covered them from inclemencies of the weather, and 'Government rations' stilled the inner man, and supplied the fountain of their 'patriotism.' We could decidedly sympathize with them, for we 'feasted' on the same kind of rations, but as for the tents. we had not been obliged to live in them. We were pleased to see their condition improved, for they were then in barns, doing duty at the front.
"One of our regiment became deranged, and ran about the field, with his fingers pointing heavenward, continually shouting, 'There's a light in the window for thee,' which was quite consoling, as we hourly expected to be called into action.
" We left the 7th regiment to 'guard the barns,' and ad- vanced towards Boonsboro. We rested for the night, and the following day proceeded to Hagerstown. On the road we saw a signboard, bearing the inscription : 'Kilpatrick is not dead yet.' This was very cheering. We had the as. surance that Kilpatrick was still 'up and doing?' and if we were slain, 'there was a light in the window. '
"During our many days of marching, we saw much pic- turesque scenery, and marched many poor mules to death. It was very much like ascending the side of a house to climb some of the mountains. We dared not look back for fear of falling a mile or two down the craggy sides. In Greenfield we found only one accessible well of water, and
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that was filled with calves' heads, hens, chickens, &c. We soon cleaned out the ' little mess,' and, putting down a bag of charcoal, shortly purified the water.
".One day we were called out to witness the shooting of a deserter, a member of another regiment. The regiments formed a hollow square, and an ambulance approached with the victim, who calmly sat upon his coffin. He was led to his grave, placed upon his coffin, while twelve men. with loaded muskets, were drawn up before him. Clear and startling rang out the command to fire, and the next instant the poor wretch was writhing in the agonies of death. A few moments more, and the cold clay closed over the scene.
" During our passage to Charleston we were obliged to boil our coffee over lighted candles, on the steamer's deck. During the voyage an altercation took place, and in the ex- citement I threw a chap out of a third tier bunk to the Hoor. After my exhibition of physical prowess, I was po litely informed that I had played a joke on the . bully ' of the regiment. Of course I did it accidentally !
" The voice of an angel used often to disturb the peace- ful slumbers of those in Charleston. It was the .swamp angel'-a single gun battery, mounted in the mud directly under the guns of Castle Pinkney. From this gun the first shot was hurled into the City of Charleston. Our lei- sure time was occupied in fighting sand-fleas. gnats, · sił- very-tongued mosquitoes,' and drinking water that had been drained through the bodies of fallen heroes. Such was the bright side of my soldier life ! I organized a class in singing, which I drilled in the quartermaster's tent once a week. One dozen books were presented to us from a friend in New York City, and four men were selected to form a quartette, viz. : George Reeves, Van Buskirk, Youngs, and myself. We received onr appointments from Lieutenant Col. Woodford.
"During a battle a lad of fifteen years was mortally wounded. He was as fine a looking lad as I ever saw. and
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of pure Union sentiment. He was pressed into the rebel service, fired his gun in the air, and shortly after received his death wound. In the agonies of death, deafened by the din of battle, he cried out for his mother and sister. Such incidents make tender and lasting impressions upon the mind, even of a soldier. In another battle two of my intimate friends were killed. While our batteries were firing in the morning, one of them wrote in his diary : 'If I am killed to-day, God help my mother.' Little he sus- pected, though he penned the sentiments, that the bright sun was beaming on him for the last time.
" One day a shell struck a cook-house of one of the regi- ments. The building being built of logs and mud, the shell caused a general demolition, and for a short time the only visible objects were mess-pans, kettles, and a thick cloud of dust. After the excitement subsided, the debris was seen moving in a certain place, and a moment later a Dutch cook emerged, saying: 'Vot in heell ish de mad- der?' "
Mr. Ritch is an amusing and gifted writer, and all of his narrations are spicy and pleasing. I heartily wish that time and space permitted yours truly to record more of his elaborate accounts of "life at the front," but this con- tracted biographical and descriptive record will not allow more extended details, although positively entertaining. My readers must content themselves with the broken ex- tracts I can only present ; remember that "brevity is the soul of wit," and " a good time is coming."
Our hero again modestly breaks forth thusly: " Well. I have been hungry all day, and when the shades of twilight fell, slept on two rails to keep from sinking in the mud, so I could find myself in the morning. I have seen men with their heads blown off, with arms and legs, and all that tends to make life desirable, shattered to fragments ; but this does not seem to call forth much sympathy, because I was not blown to atoms. I suppose. One night there came up a dense fog-thicker than a stone wall and higher than
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the tower of Babel. With this fog came the news of the ' fall of Savannah.' All the troops turned out at mid- night and gave three cheers, a tiger, and a tom-cat. Our bands struck up the new tunes, called Hail Columbia, Star Spangled Banner, and Yankee Doodle-all com- posed for the occasion. I am glad to hear that they have since become somewhat popular. Out of justice to the fog, I would state that some of the notes didn't come down until the next day, and some of the artillerymen got their ramrods fast in the fog, and couldn't get 'them out until it cleared in the morning.
" Beaureguard having heard of the
FALL OF SAVANNAH,
and of General Sherman's advance, started farther South. While in the City of Charleston I formed some pleasant acquaintances-of course, the most agreeable of them were with ladies, with excellent vocal talents. Many enjoyable moonlight excursions have I whiled on the pleasant Bay. But this is the romantic portion, of which we read so much in books. We took possession of one of the finest and largest churches in the city, and soon established a fine choir of mixed voices. In the post-office I became acquainted with General Harrison's grandson, John Taylor, Stanly G. Trott, and others of note.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S DEATH
caused deep regret, not alone to the soldiery, but with the citizens. Leaving Charleston, we started for Hilton Head, and thence for New York. Talk about moonlight excur- sions with Southern beauties, with golden, raven, auburn, or any other tresses! Such things are appropriate for poets and love-sick swains to prattle about, but is naught com- pared to a
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