A history of Texas and Texans, Part 35

Author: Johnson, Francis White, 1799-1884; Barker, Eugene Campbell, 1874-1956, ed; Winkler, Ernest William, 1875-1960
Publication date: 1914
Publisher: Chicago, American Historical Society
Number of Pages: 906

USA > Texas > A history of Texas and Texans > Part 35

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This goodly family has taken its place in the leading social and other worthy activities of Archer City since it became identified with the community some years ago, and enjoys the esteem and friendship of an ever widen- ing circle hereabouts. Mr. Morrison is regarded as one of the ablest attorneys in the state, and enjoys the re- gard of a number of the most influential men in the state, prominent among whom is Senator Joseph Bailey, with whom Mr. Morrison has been intimately associated since boyhood and for whom he entertains the warmest regard.

JACOB HAYNE HARRISON. In the long and varied career of Jacob Hayne Harrison there is found much material of an interesting nature. School teacher dur- ing the seventies, public official through a period in which the Southwest was experiencing an era of unrest, editor and publisher as a pioneer in journalistic work in several sections of the state and finally identified with some of the leading loan, abstract and mortgage companies of Texas, his life in the Lone Star state has been an unusually active one. Yet, however well he has become known in other fields of endeavor, it is as Jake H. Harrison, Texas poet, that he has endeared himself to the people and established a reputation as an author of verse that has the ability to touch the heart through the sentiment in it rather than through mere superficial quality.

Jacob Hayne Harrison was born in Rockingham county, Virginia, April 26, 1851, and is a son of Daniel and Huldah B. (Hayne) Harrison, members of prominent Virginia families. His maternal grandmother was a Duke, of Hanover county, Virginia, and his grandfather was a relative of "Tippecanoe" Harrison, the Presi- dent. In 1857 Mr. Harrison's father and family left Virginia and moved to Tennessee, locating first in Jef- ferson county and later in Greene county. This was the heart of the Tennessee country that furnished so many volunteers to the Union cause in the Civil war and Mr. Harrison's older brothers enlisted in the ranks of the blue. He himself can remember as a boy some of the noted characters of that day who were friends of the family and frequent visitors at his father's home, in- cluding "Andy" Johnson, "Parson" Brownlow and

P. S. Martino,

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other members of the Brownlow family. In the fall of 1868 the family moved to Carroll county, Missouri, and Mr. Harrison's father died there. In 1874 Mr. Harri- son came to Texas alone, and, locating in Hill county, secured employment as a teacher in the early schools. He recalls that during that period he played the "fiddle"' for the weekly Friday night dances of the neighborhood, at which congenial occupation he earned more money than he did at teaching school. In 1878 Mr. Harrison was elected justice of the peace for that precinct of Hill county of which what is now known as Hubbard City was the center, an office which he held for six years, and during two years of that time was also county commissioner, in addition to which he had charge of the postoffice at Hubbard City. For about one year he was editor and publisher and issued the initial number of the Hubbard City News, which was the successor of the Herald. In the fall of 1883 Mr. Harrison removed to Hillsboro, the county seat, and there founded the Hills. boro News, of which he was editor and publisher until the office was destroyed by fire, and at that time he retired from the field of journalism. Later he was appointed city tax assessor and collector of Hillsboro, a position which he held for about one year, and at t same time began abstract work at Hillsboro for the firm of Tarlton, Jordan & Tarlton. In connection with his abstract work he began loaning money for the Texas Loan Agency of Corsicana, but in the spring of 1886 removed to Gatesville and purchased and controlled the entire abstract business of the county. Eighteen months of hard and unremitting labor destroyed his health, and, being compelled to give up inside work altogether, he went on the road as traveling inspector of loans for the Texas Loan Agency and moved to Corsicana with his family in the fall of 1889. Since that time he has been engaged in the capacity of inspector, or securities man, for the Texas Loan Agency, Francis Smith & Company of San Antonio, and the British & American Mortgage Company of Dallas, the latter having been his position since 1899, since about which time he has made his home in Dallas.

Mr. Harrison, as said before, is best known as a poet, his verse having attracted wide attention and won the commendation of some of the best critics in the country. One of the most beautiful things that have come from his pen, "The Yellowhouse Canyon," appears in the work, Library of Southern Literature, but his beautiful thoughts have usually been given to the public through the medium of the newspapers and magazines, and have reached their widest and most appreciative circle of readers through the columns of the Dallas News and the Texas Farm and Ranch. Mr. Harrison took up verse writ- ing at first merely to occupy his thoughts and time while waiting for trains during the early days of his travels, but took courage from the fact that the publishers recognized merit in his work, and from that time his poetry has stead- ily grown in power, in finish and in interest. Most of his verse breathes the spirit of the free outdoors, of hunting and fishing and life on the great prairie stretches of the west, over all of which he has traveled in connection with his business. Other poems, however, are purely of a domestic nature. The poems published in connection with this review show, perhaps, as well as any of his others, the high character of his work.

Mr. Harrison has been twice married, the first time September 28, 1878, to Miss Theodosia C. Powell, of Limestone county, Texas. She died in March, 1905, the union having been blessed by the birth of three children: Claude N. Harrison, Judge Harrison and Miss Dixie W. Harrison. On August 21, 1910, Mr. Harrison was married to his present wife, who before her marriage was Miss Lillian Kendrick Byrn. She was brought to Texas in early childhood by her parents, who settled in San Antonio, in the schools of which city she received Vol. IV-S

the major part of her education. Here, amid the pic- turesque semi-tropical beauty of the sleepy old city, she grew into an intimate sympathy with all that per- tains to real history, real achievement of noble ends; and with the growth of the present hustling metropolis came the expanding of her own perceptions which fitted her for the literary work that she was later to under- take.

During her high school years her poems and stories began to attract attention and she was the winner of several literary competitions. After the death of her father, Lucas Haynes Byrn, descendant of an Irish settler of the first Virginia colony, she taught for several years and continuing her studies also, ob- tained literary degrees from the State Normal Institute, Museo Nacional de Mexico and University of Chicago, at which latter institution she specialized in anthropology under the noted explorer, Frederick Starr. Making teaching the means of travel, Miss Byrn covered the greater part of Mexico, studying its history, ancient and modern, its customs, literature and resources, and writ- ing a great many magazine articles and brochures on these subjects.

Opportunity for editorial work came in Boston, where she was associated in the editorship of Home and Abroad, a magazine devoted to travel and study. Following this she went to Nashville, Tennessee, where, as literary edi- tor of the Bob Taylor's Magazine, and after the con- solidation, of the Taylor-Trotwood Magazine, she became a potent factor in the upbuilding of a broad journal worthy of the magnificent field it represented. A period of two years spent in travel in Peru, Chile, Bolivia, Ar- gentina and Brazil gave her wide opportunities for acquaintance with the social life of our neighboring con- tinent, and in the extensive ruins found all over South America, she accumulated a vast amount of literary and scientific material.

Her marriage, in August, 1910, to Jacob Hayne Harri- son, of Harrisonburg, Virginia, then as now a resident of Dallas, brought her again to a residence in the Lone Star state where in their Dallas home they dispense a hospitality typical of their Virginia forbears.

As an officer of the Dallas Pen Women, a member of the National Pen Women's League, The National Geo- graphical Society and the Royal Anthropological Insti- tute (London), Mrs. Harrison, although devoting her- self to the career of home-making, continues her interest and to some extent her activities in literary work.

Mrs. Harrison is a daughter of Mrs. Jennie Kendrick Collins, of San Antonio, who after the death of Lucas Haynes Byrn, married James E. Collins.

A CRY FOR THE OPEN RANGE

I long for a whiff of the desert air, For the scent of the desert sand, For the spreading reach of the billow hills In that sea of the rolling land; For the fiery glint of the western sun And the feel of the pulsing heat-

The crunch of the carpet of glinting grit I would sense with my weary feet.

I long for the fan of the desert breeze When stars are alight in the skies, The shadows that fall on the eastern hills As a rest for men's weary eyes ; For the dew that sprinkles the sleeping face When the curtain of night is drawn, And the glory that glows in the smiling east When the day brings back the dawn.

You may have the city with all its pomp, Have its wealth and its mansions fine, Its tables that groan with the richest food, And its goblets of sparkling wine;

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But give me the measureless solitude Of the sand, and the desert air,

With the trackless plain and the cheerless scene, And the feeling that God is there. -Jake H. Harrison.

THE DESERT CAMP

The wagon, gray with grime and dust, Stands with its front toward the south, A sun-burnt plainsman, lithe and tall, Sits smoking in its cavern mouth; A pile of saddles, ropes and guns Lie to the right upon the ground, And blankets damp from recent use, Left there to dry, are spread around.

A fire of "chips" and grease-wood brush Is burning on an open place, And over this a "Greaser" bends With active hands and leathern face; Intent upon the meal he cooks, For it is nearing supper time, And coffee, beans and broiling meat, Send far abroad aroma prime.

There on the mesa to the left The horses crop the stunted grass, Nip tender shoots of dwarf mesquite, And sniff the "loco" as they pass; While on that rocky point beyond, A lonely "lobo" keeps his ward, And watches all the movements here With baleful eye and keen regard.

The sun, a blood-red, blazing orh, Winks at the world from out the west, While Nature seems to stretch and yawn, As half inclined to go to rest ; Dry winds alive with acrid dust Go sighing by as if in pain, While ghosts of ages dead and gone Cast phantom shadows on the plain.

A dozen deep and angry yelps, Succeeded by a hungry howl, Tell where not far toward the east A pack of snarling "lohos" prowl; They scent the broiling hacon fumes, Gaunt, gnawing hunger does the rest, And they may even charge the camp Before they cease their sniffing quest.

The plainsman leaves the wagon seat, The horses snort, then turn and run, The "Greaser " puts aside his pots, And with a grin picks up his gun. "Los lohos malos, " he exclaims, And shows his gleaming teeth the while- Ye gods; this satyr of the plains Could freeze a sunbeam with his smile!

The horses wheel and gallop back, Then stop and snort and wheel again, Describe a circle, pause and neigh, Then fly in fright across the plain ; And in their wake the "lohos" trail, Forgetful of the bacon scent, And they will follow, true and swift, Until the horses' strength is spent.

But no, they wheel and here they come, They make a "bee line" for the camp, And even now, mid howl and yelp, We hear the thunder of their tramp.

On, on they come-and see the wolves; Ah, but that pace is one to kill, And can they hold it, will they last? Yes, God be praised, they will, they will!

Ah, hear that spitting "Marlin " speak, And see that "loho"gnaw the ground, Again, again, that keen report, And it is dealing death around! While gleaming teeth are flashing white From satyr lips devoid of mirth, And eyes are scintillating light That only hate can give its birth.

"Los lobos son diablos, si!" The "Greaser" cries with fiery breath, "Muerto-what you G-r-r-ingoes say? Ah si, yo know, you call heem death! He keel muchacho mio, si! Ah, now yo pay heem-si, yo weel! It is hees sangre yo would dreenk, Ah, eet ees heaven heem to keel!"

And panting, pounding, here they come, The yelping "lobos" give them wings; Those milk white teeth are flashing yet, And listen how that "Marlin" sings! Five wolves are down, yet four come on, The "Marlin's" magazine is spent, And still the horses are not safe- Those "lobos" are on blood intent.

The range is long for pistols yet, But see, they slip from holsters now, Drop out in front of stretching arms And send abroad a growling "pow!" Another wolf has gone to earth, And see, another limps away -- The sun has set, the dusk is here, The horses, too, have won the day.

They stand beside the wagon now, Their heaving sides a mass of foam, The fear they felt they feel no more, The wolves are gone-and this is home! The camp is quiet once again, The "Greaser" raps a tinkling plate, The plainsman stretches, yawns and says: "Well, supper is a little late."

The moon is rising in the east, The dust is laid, the winds are still, And softly through the golden night, The flutings of the whip-poor-will Come floating sweet across the plain, As earnest from a peaceful land, That He who set the stars in place Holds even deserts in His hand. -Jake H. Harrison.

MEXICO *

An ancient land that teems with yellow gold, Whose fanes were weather-worn when Greece was young,

In mystic script its history was told, Before blind Homer's Iliad was sung. Yea, long before the pyramids were built, Or silent Sphynx began her stolid gaze, This soil of mystery was richly gilt, With stars that glint through dark tradition's haze.

* Written especially for the History of Texas and Texans, 1914.

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Its ancient ruins show the sculptor's art, Its shadow dials tell its early lore, Its mystic cypher holds within its heart, A secret that no modern can explore. Its temples show religion's august sway, Before the walls of Karnak were begun, And there is patent evidence, today, That they were dedicated to the sun.

Grim, human sacrifice they all declare, With reeking blood their ceremonies teem, And ritual that lends a tragic air, Which haunts you like a horrifying dream. About it all the pall of age is spread, Conjecture sits immobile on her throne, You feel the presence of a mystic dread, And all the terrors of a fear unknown.

Within the forest solitudes they lie, These ruins of an ancient virile race, Ten thousand years of humus slumbers by, To prove the desolation of the place. And over all the forest sentries stand, Deep rooted in the debris that abounds, Yet even in their death, we find them grand, The temples that bestrew these ancient grounds.

Adown the ages then we follow on, Until the Montezumas come to reign, And in the crumbling ruins find, anon, The evidence of internecine pain; The history of civil war and strife, Deep graven by the giant hand of Time, Grim, bloody fiends who sap a Nation's life, And leave it writhing in a sea of crime.

There despotism shows its iron hand, The common herd were driven with a goad, That only those can fully understand, Who feel and bear its agonizing load. For liberty and right were put aside, To serve the purpose of the ruling few, And slavery, the worst that can betide, For centuries, the common people knew.

Then came the Spanish dons, with cruel might, Cortez the brute, by papal mandate blest, A Christian (?) scourge who never knew a right, And made of gold and land his primal quest. With fiendish hand he robbed and burnt and slew, His tyrant heart regarded self alone, While Plunder was the only law he knew, And music was, to him, a captive's groan.

The scum of Spain found ready refuge there, Till "Savage Mexico" could hold no more, At least until the jailers made it clear, That they had given up their vicious store. It came, this scum, instructed by its king To kill the native men, and take their wives, And priests were sent to make the chancel ring, With masses meant to cleanse these culprit lives.

The native blood thus tainted with the crime, And all the rotten vice that prisons knew, Brought forth a spawn of savage human grime, It made the soul of Heaven sick to view. Yet motion purifies the putrid stream, And time will cleanse the taint in human blood, Therefore, in course of years, there came a gleam, To even these, of peaceful brotherhood.

The patriot Hidalgo led the van, That routed Spanish vice and tyranny, While Juarez perfected Hidalgo's plan, And won, at last, a taste of liberty.

The galling yoke was lifted from the neck, That centuries had borne its cruel weight- How, hardly, can a ruling Nation reck, The venom of a conquered people's hate!

The Spaniard was a tyrant, not a fool, Whose prime consideration was to win, He never let his selfish ardor cool, And never counted robbery a sin. The native was a savage Nature child, Revengeful, superstitious, fierce and brave, A creature, while not altogether wild, That Heaven never meant to be a slave.

Amalgamation then was simply crime, Upon the page of history a blot, A mixture that produces human grime, With cruelty and hellish passion hot. Therefore, a thousand years, at least, must pass, Before the cleansing hand of Time is shown, And blood must spill a thousand times, alas, Before the sweets of liberty are known.

For education has not paved the way, To democratic government, as yet, Dictatorship still holds its rigid sway, Though Liberty must view it with regret; And Revolution, time and time again, Must light the scene with War's consuming brand, And wrench the Nation's heart with martial pain, While hungry Rapine devastates the land.

But when the tainted blood is purified, And all the sin of Spanish crime is spent, When savage heat by time is modified, Caucasian grace and native vigor blent; And all the force that mental strength can bring, Together with the culture it will gain, Then Mexico her banners wide will fling, And prove a queen of Nations on the Main.

Her mines will pour their precious metals forth, The marts of trade will glorify her name, Financial centers testify her worth, And all the world will sing her glowing fame. Her riches are intrinsic, and secure, Her minerals and fertile valleys rare, A wealth that through the ages must endure, And only needs the patient hand of Care.

With proper tillage, she could feed the earth, Her precious gems Golconda could not buy, Of ruby wines she need not suffer dearth, And man knows not a softer, bluer sky. Her forests teem with all the richer woods, Her splendid rivers find the placid sea, And they would serve as highways for her goods, If only all her energies were free.

But prostrate, bound, she lies before us now, While civil war is sucking at her blood, The mark of Cain shows plain upon her brow, Self-murder saps the strength of brotherhood. An internecine death her vitals grips, And Mexico must tremble in the toils, Till Justice with her stern, impartial lips, Shames Fate until she drops ill-gotten spoils. -Jake H. Harrison.

OLNEY DAVIS. As a thriving and growing city of the Southwest and an important commercial center of Collin county, Plano has taken a leading part in the business history of Northern Texas and has attracted to it some of the active minds, not only in the various professions, but those capable of controlling financial and business interests. This feature alone is one that has contributed

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to this municipality's prosperity-the fact that its inter- ests demand action and ability-for where meu possess- ing these attributes congregate, success is sure to follow and a further enlargement of business fields and oper- ating opportunities. No man ever rose above his fellows unless he possessed something more than they-advan- tages of money, mind, or native ability, and more fre- quently than not the first plays but a small part, com- pared with the latter. An illustration of this truth may be found in the career of Olney Davis, president of the Farmers and Merchants National Bank of Plano, a man who has risen because he has made the most of his op portunities and who is today the directing head of one of the institutions which is contributing materially to Plano's importance and prosperity.

Mr. Davis is a native son of Texas, having been born in Ellis county, February 17, 1857. His parents, R. A. and M. P. (Sweat) Davis, were natives of Tennessee, who came to Texas in 1852 and located first in Collin county, subsequently moving to a property in Ellis county. There R. A. Davis carried on his operations with slave labor until the outbreak of the Civil War, dur- ing which he enlisted in the Confederate army and served the last two years of the war, being still in the Gray when General Lee's surrender at Appomattox marked the fall of the "Lost Cause." He theu returned to the peaceful pursuits of civil life, and continued to carry on his operations in Ellis county until his retirement from active pursuits, several years prior to his death, which occurred at Waxahachie, Texas, in April, 1903. He was a more or less prominent man of his community, serving as county surveyor for several years, and was prosperous in his business operations because of his industry and good management, combined with strict integrity. Mrs. Davis died in 1898, having been the mother of six chil- dren, of whom four are now living, Olney being the next to the youngest.

The early education of Olney Davis was secured in the public schools of Ellis county, and during this preliminary training he spent much of his time in assisting his father in the work of the homestead place. Later he was a stu- dent in the industrial school of the University of Illi- nois, at Champaign, Illinois, and upon his return home he had his first business experience as a farmer and stock raiser in Collin county. His ventures in this field proved eminently satisfactory and prosperous, but in 1887 Le turned his attention to the field of finance, when he as- sisted in organizing the Plano National Bank, of which he was made vice president. About 1895 he disposed of his interests in that institution, and in 1900 he directed the organization of the Farmers and Merchants National Bank of Plano, of which he became the first president, a position which he has continued to hold to the present time. Mr. Davis possesses excellent organizing and ex- ecutive ability. Public confidence is with him; he has popularized the coffers of the institution by his wise and conservative direction of its policies, and each year has seen the bank grow in scope and power. He has met each emergency capably, and his associates have learned to depend upon his judgment and foresight. Mr. Davis has always been a Democrat and has at all times given the candidates and policies of his party the benefit of his influence. In 1991 he was chosen by his fellow citizens as chief executive of the city, and occupied the mayoralty chair until 1896, and during the five years of his sane and businesslike administration the city grew and de- veloped in size and prosperity. At the present time he is serving his second term as alderman, and is also acting in the capacity of city treasurer. Fraternally, Mr. Davis is connected with the local lodges of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows and the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks. While his private interests are many, demanding the greater part of his time and attention, Mr. Davis has ever been ready to give of himself in the forwarding of movements looking toward the advance- ment of education and good citizenship.

On April 20, 1881, Mr. Davis was united in marriage with Miss Effie Mathews of Collin county, a daughter of B. F. Mathews, who was one of the early settlers of Col- lin county, a prominent farmer, and died in 1878. Nine children have been born to Mr. and Mrs. Davis, six of whom are now living, as follows: R. A., who is cashier of the Farmers and Merchants National Bank of Plano and one of the energetic and progressive young business men of the city; Mrs. Edna M. Houston, wife of H. H. Houston of Teague, Texas, vice president of the First State Bank of that place and a grandson of Gen. Sam Houston; Miss Maud, a graduate in music of St. Mary's School, Dallas; Miss Vera, also a graduate, in a special course, at St. Mary's school; Miss Pauline, a member of the class of 1914 in the Plano High school and was the honor student of 26, which constituted the class, and Miss Helen, who is attending the graded schools of this city.

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A history of Texas and Texans, Part 35

Author: Johnson, Francis White, 1799-1884; Barker, Eugene Campbell, 1874-1956, ed; Winkler, Ernest William, 1875-1960 Publication date: 1914 Publisher: Chicago, American Historical Society Number of Pages: 906

Author: Johnson, Francis White, 1799-1884; Barker, Eugene Campbell, 1874-1956, ed; Winkler, Ernest William, 1875-1960
Publication date: 1914
Publisher: Chicago, American Historical Society
Number of Pages: 906