USA > Wisconsin > Rock County > Beloit > Past made present : the first fifty years of the First Presbyterian Church and congregation of Beloit, Wisconsin together with a history of Presbyterianism in our state up to the year 1900 > Part 20
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The fort is built on a point of land jutting out into the harbor. The road leading to it is paved with stone, laid in a cement the receipt for which has been lost. At present they build of stone but little. From coral they make a lime which is used for whitewash.
Monday, March 4th, 1861. Provisions on the steamer being rather stale, Mrs. M. has given us an invitation, gladly accepted, to take dinner at the Eldorado today. The landlord, called Uncle John, took us into a private parlor bounded on one side by a bed-room and on the other by a yard filled with flowers, from which we were separated by a lattice work covered with vines. At one end was a dove cote which from the incessant cooing seemed to contain a liundred at least. We amused ourselves until two o'clock when the lady in pants appeared. We made her understand that we wanted a nice meal, and it was not long before the waiter came in, spread a snow white
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cloth and soon called us to dinner. It consisted of broiled chickens, fried potatoes, fried bananas, beef steak and chocolate. Our dessert was pine- apple and wine. Everything was very neat, and never was a meal better rel- ished-by us. After sailing about the bay for an hour we returned to the ship at sundown.
Mrs. Q. is very anxious to climb the mountain. Today, for the first time since our coming here, we saw some clouds. It is a beautiful sight to see them floating above the heights. Sometimes they appear to rest on the summit ; again they are seen far below it and so thin that through them rocks and trees are visible, as through a gauzy veil. We purpose improving the rest of our time here to the best advantage, and have engaged a guide, Maximo, to be ready with his ponies early in the morning and escort us to the mountains.
Tuesday, March 5th, 1861. We left the steamer at 7 A. M. provided with a basket of provisions and a six shooter. Our guide was dressed in white pants, black sash around his waist, and patent leather shoes. He was also armed but only with a dirk as the natives are not allowed to carry fire arms. When we landed our horses were ready but there was only one side-saddle, which I gave to Mrs. Q. My saddle was a regular Spanish, which has a high pommel and back, different from ours. We were soon on our way, all the horses walking along in a leisurely manner, straight ahead and needing no guidance. Our road led through groves filled with birds of many kinds and affording also snakes and lizards. Occasionally we crossed a small stream, then came to a field of corn, and next to a place where tiles were being made
as we make brick. At last, surmounting an eminence we found ourselves near what was formerly the residence of our American consul. It was quite a comfortable house, having a stoop or porch in front. From a dwelling close by a woman came out, shook hands and by various signs invited us to alight, which we did. After we had eaten our lunch she suspended two hammocks under the roof of that porch and, while we reclined in them, sat on the floor between and gently swung us. Our guide lay on the floor and was soon asleep, taking his usual noon siesta, as is customary here.
From this point we have a good view of surrounding country and the harbor and steamer below us, but are not satisfied as it is only half way up the mountain. After resting an hour we bid adieu to the Señora, mount our steeds again and set out for the summit. Then commenced our "tug of war." The path was very narrow and crooked. It required a continual stepping up, like climbing stone stairs. After an hour of this work we came to a small ranche, near which in a ravine was a copious spring of water, shaded by great banana plants like trees. Maximo dismounted and taking the bridles from our horses led them to drink. Without waiting for him to water his own animal, as soon as ours were bridled, we started on in advance but had not gone far when his horse came running up the mountain side like a scared cat, the rider not to be seen. As the colt tried to pass nie I caught one rein of his bridle and held him until Maximo came up. He made us understand that the animal escaped from him while he was fixing some part of the harness. It was a colt and a wild one, too. Before the rider was fairly seated in the saddle it started, flew up the ascent and was soon lost to our sight around a turn of the path. In due time we found Max- imo standing under a tree on a rocky ledge, waiting for us.
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The nearer we approached to the summit the more difficult became our progress. Along the crooked path I closely followed the guide while Mrs. Q. toiled on in the rear. Sometimes, after winding around a cliff of rock and at last reaching its top, I would look down and see her horse creeping along after us a hundred feet directly below. Many times we each had to lie close to our horse's neck, in order to pass under a tree branch which reached across the path. At last we came out of the bushes into a level space where there was quite a settlement of indians and a stone church. Horses and riders being weary after the long climb we promptly dismounted to get a rest. The guide, however, taking one of the indians with him, motioned us to follow on foot, so we started again and he led us by a narrow path to the summit. The scene there spread out before us my pen cannot properly describe. As we seated ourselves on that rocky height the toilsome climb was forgotten, and all previous anticipations were more than realized. Clouds were floating below us and our steamer in the harbor far below them looked like a small sail boat. Mrs. Q. tore her veil in two and with the pieces and a red striped towel we made the flag of our country (near enough in color) red, white and green. This was fastened to a ten foot pole which was then inserted in a crevice of the rocks. The natives were also made to understand that it was to be left in position until we had returned to the steamer. From that wonderful view it was hard to turn away, but soon the lengthening shadows obliged us to regretfully hasten our descent. The walk of the ponies in going down was very slow and sure. No Wisconsin horse could have descended as they all did without a misstep. When we were about half way down the mountain the girth of Mrs. Q.'s saddle broke, an accident which nearly caused her to fall into the abyss below our patlı. After the shock of that narrow escape she could not be persuaded to ride any further, but preferred to walk the rest of the way. Among many singular trees and shrubs one which particularly attracted my attention was a cactus at least fifty feet high.
Long before we reached the base of the mountain darkness came sud- denly upon us. Here there is no gradual dawn or sunset. Before you are aware of the time of day the sun drops behind the mountains and it is dark in a few minutes. At seven o'clock we reached the hotel, had tea there, boarded the steamer about nine o'clock and found all hands, including the captain, much troubled on our account. Of the passengers running to meet us one exclaimed, " Are you really alive?" and another, "I thought you were murdered." The captain said he would not have dared to undertake that expedition himself. He had concluded we were not coming back to-night and was intending to fit out a company in the morning and go in search of us.
Wednesday, March 6th, 1861. Feeling weary after yesterday's moun- tain climbing we took an afternoon sail just to get a refreshing breeze. By the aid of a glass we also saw our flag on the mountain top.
Thursday, March 7th. All being well again, went once more to the grove. While on the mountain we discovered a narrow strait leading from the harbor to the sea, so today explored it and found that it was half a mile long. On the ocean beach we also found many beautiful shells, quite new to us.
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Friday, March 8th. As this is our final day here we have visited Massi- nalia, the cocoa grove, for the last time. Maximo showed us an alligator, a hideous looking animal about eight feet long, which he killed yesterday. After picking a basket of oranges we returned to the steamer and found our trunks all on board a lighter, ready for the Golden Age, which had been signalled at three o'clock. They telegraph the arrival of boats by a flag raised on the mountain side at a point from which vessels that are many miles out may be seen.
About sunset the boat reached us, and if ever three hearty cheers were heard in the harbor of Acapulco they were heard from the decks of the Uncle Sam, as the Age came in. Captain Lapage went on board of her but soon returned with the news that she was heavily loaded and had the small- pox among her passengers. So the trunks have been replaced, as our boat is to be towed. All are well pleased with this arrangement for here we have plenty of room. At 7 P. M. arrived the Cortez, bound for Panama. We leave for San Francisco before daylight tomorrow morning. On account of the novelty of the place, the beautiful scenery and the simplicity of the inhabitants, Mrs. Q. would like to live here, she says. I would not.
Saturday, March 9th, 1861. At 4 A. M. we left Acapulco and are once more at sea. The Age is about her own length in advance, pulling us by two large ropes, which are bound with raw-hide. There is a smaller rope reaching from one boat to the other for a telegraph, by which papers and letters, sealed in a bottle. are sent back and forth. Next week we shall get up a paper to send them. The captain has asked me to contribute an account of niy adventures on the mountain.
Sunday, March 10th, 1861. The sea is very calm, and during the last twenty-four hours we have sailed 190 miles. All on board seem quiet and contented. Service on the upper deck. Received a dispatch from the Age today ordering us to furnish two more lines. In case we encounter a gale they will cut loose from us. The captain of the other boat says we tow hard as we draw twenty-one feet of water.
Monday, March 10th, 1861. The weather is growing cool and pleasant. We entered the gulf of California this morning and shall expect a rough sea while passing Cape St. Lucas.
Today the captain called ; said he must see my journal tomorrow, and would take no denial ; but I guess he will fail. He says they are going to appoint me editress of the proposed paper, which is to be called, "The Age of Brass." I have not yet concluded to accept Our last day's run was 191 miles.
Tuesday, March 12th, 1861. The sea was never known to be so calm in the gulf before. We are making good lieadway. Yesterday's run was 194 miles and if prospered we shall reach San Francisco next Tuesday. Two more towing ropes have been attached, making six, so that if some give out enough will remain to ensure our safety. We came in sight of the Cape about 5 o'clock this afternoon with quite a change in the temperature. Woolen shawls and thick dresses are in good demand. Lower California is seen in the distance and all are anxious to view the long looked for prom- ised land. Feel well and in good spirits.
Wednesday, March 13th, 1861. Sea rather rough. Paper issued to-day
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which helps to pass the time pleasantly. It contains all the news. Under the head of "Births, Deaths and Marriages," occurs " a singular instance of three berths in one room." Our last day's run was only 167 miles on account of the rough sea and head winds. Large black birds are following the ship and some regard them as omens of death. The weather is getting really cold.
Thursday, March 14th, 1861. Cold and foggy. Last night a whale ship was quite near us but, on account of the dense fog, was hardly discern- ible. About midnight the Golden Gate passed within a few feet of us and was hailed by our captain who asked with emphasis what they were doing so near. They shouted back that they didn't see us. The captain seemed very much frightened and said he never had so narrow an escape in his life.
Friday, March 15th. Cold and cloudy. Last night a child in the steer- age. two and a half years old, died with fever. The half deranged mother begged our kind hearted captain to 'not bury it in the sea,' so he has ordered the carpenter to make a coffin, place the little body in it and lash the box to the wheel house. Our last run was 176 miles.
Saturday, March 16th, 1861. The increasing cold obliges us to keep our rooms most of the time. The captain has an ant-eater and its singular performances to-day have amused us. We are now sailing near land. Run, for the 24 hours, 181 miles.
Sunday, March 17th. Clear and pleasant. Service on deck and to- night in the steerage. Passengers seem uneasy. It is too cold to stay out long at a time. Apparently they are no company for each other and have become tired of reading.
Monday, March 18th. This has been a day of mingled joy and sorrow; joy because we are so near the end of our ocean voyage; sorrow for. one of our number whose voyage of life has ended. He was a second class passen- ger, a French physician, forty years of age, who caught the yellow fever at Acapulco and died this noon. He said he had no money and during his last few hours lay on the floor in great suffering. Our one French lady, Mrs. R., took the kindest care of him. When told this morning that another day would find us in port, he replied, "I shall never see San Francisco." About two hours before the end he called for his trunk, took out clean clothing, shaved and dressed himself, said he felt quite contented and in a short time expired. The body was immediately sewed up in a sail, carried on deck, laid upon two chairs and the flag thrown over it. At sundown we assembled there, a short service was read and prayer offered; then the corpse, weighted at the feet, was thrown overboard and with a splash dis- appeared. It was a solemn sight.
Tuesday, March 19th, 1861. At last we are safe in San Francisco. This morning all were up and dressed bright and early. What a jolly time! The captain invited a few of us into his cabin to take a glass of champagne with him. When we passed the Golden Gate and came withiin sight of the city, never was a happier set. All was pleasant confusion. Guns were fired, cheers given and toasts drank. Captain Lapage said he had seldom entered port with a jollier lot of passengers. Great excitement prevailed also on shore as our boat canie in, for while we were so comfortably situa-
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ted at Acapulco, it was thought here that we must be lost. Mrs. R. tells me she has made inquiries and learned that our poor Frenchman who died was worth a million dollars. And yet he lived on a bit's worth of milk a day.
My sea voyage is now ended and this journal closed. I hope that it will prove in some measure interesting to those who may chance to read it.
NOTE .- The reader's interest in this voyage may be increased by know- ing its cause and outcome. Early in January, 1850, Miss Julia S. Peck (see book page 40) married Elias Twist, a young New York farmer who had been several years in Beloit, and was then teaming for the foundry firm of Bar- ker & Love. Mr. Twist, like so many others caught the gold fever, and, hoping to make a fortune for his bride, left our village with Capt. Lewis Clarke's company (April 8, 1850) for California. He crossed the plains in the same wagon with Almon Bennett, Esq. (a Beloit citizen still living here ), who had known his family in New York, and still remembers him as a can- did, honest, industrious young man.
On reaching California Mr. Twist left the Beloit party, and although a hard worker, experienced the downs rather than the ups of fortune. Seve- ral times he made a comfortable amount and then in some new venture lost it and had to begin over again. Meanwhile certain busy bodies at Beloit by slanderous letters alienated him from his wife. Business reverses also hin- dered him, and so he never came back. During all those years however the young wife was hoping for his return and improving herself in every possi- ble way. She worked on her father's farm, studied French in the village, learned the art of photography, practiced it as a business, and laid up some money. At last, having endured the separation nearly eleven years, she determined to go herself to California and learn her husband's real feelings and situation. Hence the voyage and this journal.
." Did she find him?" you ask. Yes. On reaching San Francisco, by careful inquiries Mrs. Twist soon learned that her husband, though not very prosperous, had during all those years borne an honorable business charac- ter and had been true to his wife. She therefore sent him her address in Sacramento, he soon came, all was explained and they lived happily togeth- er on a ranche in Tuolumne county until his death several years ago. Since that event Mrs. Twist has been staying in the same county (and still lives), with her only son, who has mining interests there. In a letter dated April 14, 1899, she says that the journal was written, "not for publication but as a pastime on a dull and monotonous voyage." To the author, however, it seems worthy of this place, both as an example of Beloit enterprise, and also as a fair instance of the brilliant English poet's remark, that "truth is always strange, stranger than fiction."
NOTE-Omitted by mistake from the war record, page 191 : A. W. Kim- ball is now manager of the Northwestern Mutual Life Insurance Co. of Mil- waukee, Wis., for the State of Illinois, with lieadquarters at Chicago, Stock Exchange. In his office today I looked around for the old sign of our Eagle Mess about " no smokind aloud," but only saw a fine portrait of Vice-Prest. Willard Merrill, which probably serves just as well. W. F. B.
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history of the Presbyterian Church in Wisconsin-Continued. (See pages 156 and 157.)
The Old White Church.
A SEMI-CENTENNIAL RETROSPECT OF THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH OF MILWAUKEE, BY WM. W. WIGHT, ESQ., 1894.
NOTE .- Wm. W. Wight, Esq., is a practising lawyer of about twenty-four years' experi- ence, Librarian of the Milwaukee Law Library Association, Trustee of Milwaukee Imman- uel Presbyterian Church, Vice-President of the State Historical Society, for twenty years Secretary and Trustee of Milwaukee College (now Milwaukee Downer), and author of an elaborate genealogical work, also of Annals of Milwaukee College, 1848-1891, and of seve- ral legal and historical monographs. His valuable paper did not come into my hands un- til nearly all of the preceding pages had been printed and could not therefore be placed in regular narrative order. In this position, however, it richly supplements the previous general references to Milwaukee Presbyterianism and as corrected up to date will enable readers to more intelligently appreciate several of the personal sketches that follow it.
The Calvinists, the Wesleyans and the Catholics all began their labors here in 1835. In June 1835, Methodists, in the log house of Enoch Chase, held services which they continued at stated intervals during that year and in 1836. * At these gatherings, the Rev. Mark Robinson, a Methodist itenerant, occasionally preached.
Probably, however, it is historic- ally correct to say that the first public religious exercises in Mil- waukee were conducted early in May 1835, t at the house of Samuel Brown, who became a pioneer member of the First Presbyterian Church, and later of Plymouth Congregational. This was before the arrival of any ministers and WM. W. WIGHT, ESQ. there was no other than Mr. Brown to offer prayer. As he soon started the first Sunday School in Milwaukee and was a sweet singer we may well believe that those Sabbath gatherings in Mr. Brown's home, held at quite a distance from the preaching services of the summer of 1835, were not intermitted.
* Buck's Milwaukee, I., 256, Statement of Enoch Chase.
+ Davidson's "Unnamed Wisconsin," p. 213, note 5, and 214, note 5.
Samuel Brown was born in Belchertown, Mass., January 8th, 1801. and died in Mil- waukee, Dec. 22d, 1874. His wife Clarissa Hoyt, was born June 27th, 1813. They went first to Chicago, and then by request of Solomon Juneau, came to Milwaukee early in 1835. He was a carpenter and built his first shanty about a mile beyond Juneau's house which stood near the river. (east side, and just north of Wisconsin street.) Mr. Brown's house was near the north-east corner of the block now bounded by Galena, Cherry, Second and Third streets. This title to it, dated October 16, 1835, is said to have been the first Mil- waukee lot title, recorded or obtained. (Buck's Milwaukee, I., 72.)
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The first Calvinistic preaching in Milwaukee was heard in a very un- attractive store building,* called the Pioneer store, which stood on the west side of East Water street, now No. 393, and which was occupied by Allen O. T. Breed, then town clerk. The gatherers in that place on a Sunday in August, 1835, were addressed by the Rev. Abel Lester Barber, afterwards popularly called, "Priest Barber."
This Mr. Barber, our first Milwaukee Presbyterian Minister, was born at Otis, Mass., Dec. 28, 1803, graduated from Amherst College, 1831, and was or- dained at West Hartford, Connecticut, September, 25, 1833. On September 11, 1833 he married Elizabeth Woodford of Avon, Conn. They started for Mackinaw, Oct. 15, 1833, and reaching the Island Nov. 11, remained at the mission previously established there by the Northern Missionary Society of New York. In July 1834, on account of impaired health, Mr. Barber moved to the Stockbridge Mission, S. W. of Green Bay as an associate for Rev. Cutting Marsh, who was absent most of the that summer on a foreign mis- sionary tour with Elder Metoxen among the pagan Indians along the
Mississippi. In the following winter he preached and gained converts among the soldiers at Fort Winnebago, where in February 1835 a church of eleven members was nominally organized but had no continued life or records. Thence Mr. Barber moved to Milwaukee, probably in July 1835.+ Having a commission from the American Home Missionary Society for six months from July 1, 1835, he probably continued preaching until early in January 1836, when he moved upon a claim and tried farming. Afterwards he was an editor in Waukesha and Milwaukee, and finally left the Presby- terians and became a Baptist, taking his belief in perseverance with him, however. When the cholera raigned in Kenosha, (1849-50, ) he worked among the sick there and even brought one of the little cholera convales- cents to his home. That act cost him the lives of two of his own children. But the intention was good and his spirit evidently heroic. He died in Wallingford, Conn., Oct. 7th, 1876.
Early in 1836, (according to Rev. Mr. Davidson) Rev. Jared Fordham Ostrander preached on Sundays in Milwaukee from house to house for six months, and endeavored with a few earnest christians to organize a union church, but without success. In 1838 he moved to Aztalan, Wis., was in the legislature of 1857, moved to Mantorville, Dodge county, Minn., in 1866, and was Judge of Probate there at his death, November 19, 1874. While in Milwaukee, he, like Mr. Barber, preached to the people, who later formed the First Presbyterian Church.
Of the three other persons to whom this church especially owes its exis- tence, ¿ the two pioneer missionaries, Cutting Marsh and Moses Ordway have been described in previous pages of this book, (158-162, and 169-170).
The third near spiritual ancestor who should be noticed was John Ogden. Born February 18, 1801, in Union, Essex county, New Jersey, he had been reared in the staunchest principles of our faith. Having come to Milwaukee county, September, 1835, he settled first where the rolling mills now stand, and then in October, 1842, located in Kilbourntown, at No. 216 Spring street. Early in the winter of 1836-37, Mr. Ogden started the project of establish-
*See a view of that street given in Buck's Milwaukee, II, 202, and note, p. 203.
tUnnamed Wisconsin, pp 210 and 215, note 3. Also statement of Miss Marsh.
ĮSee also Wisconsin Historical Collections, IV, 301.
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ing a Presbyterian church in Milwaukee. Those meetings of 1835, held in the Pioneer Store, evidently had not survived the second winter at furthest - and had wrought no abiding impression upon the shifting and generally irrev-
erent population. So in February, 1837, Ogden wrote earnest letters to Mr. Marsh and to Mr. Ordway, who were then at their respective fields of labor among the Stockbridges, and at Green Bay, urging them to come and estab- lish a church at Milwaukee. To this Macedonion cry they promptly respond- ed in person. Down through the Wisconsin woods, finding their way by blazed trees, and guiding their ponies along Indian trails or over pathless snowy wastes, and camping three nights in the snow, on the fourth day, which was about the middle of February, 1837 (see p. 162), tliese men of God reached their destination.
Ordway and Marsh immediately started a series of public religious gath- erings to arouse enthusiasm and focus the scattered efforts of those already interested. As a result two especial meetings with reference to forming a church were held, the first on April 11th, and the second in the old Court House (where the present county building stands), April 13th. At these two gatherings the First Presbyterian Church of Milwaukee was established with a membership of eighteen persons.
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