Poetry for Winter

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Winter Coming

A week or so since, we were forcibly reminded of the following, by Hood:

Summer’s gone and over!
Fogs are falling down;
And with russet tinges,
Autumn’s doing brown.

Boughs are daily rifled
By the gusty thieves,
And the Book of Nature
Getteth short of leaves.

Round the tops of houses,
Swallows, as they flit,
Give, like yearly tenants,
Notices to quit.

Skies, of fickle temper,
Weep by turns and laugh –
Night and Day together,
Taking half and half.

So September endeth –
Cold and most perverse;
But the months that follow,
Sure will pinch us worse!

Republican Compiler (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Nov 17, 1845

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THE RED BIRD IN WINTER
A.S. McDonald.

Athwart the skies
The red bird flies
Through snow flakes light,
In soft disguise
The landscape lies
Serenely white.

What gorgeous dyes
Delight the eyes
When, flecked with white
Athwart the skies,
The red bird flies
Through fields of light.

Cambridge Jeffersonian (Cambridge, Ohio) Jan 8, 1885

A WINTER’S NIGHT

COLD! — bitterly cold!
The moon is bright
And the snow is white
Beautiful to behold.
But the wind is howling
Like hungry prowling
Wolves on the wintry wold!
Cold! — bitterly cold!

My shawl is ragged and old –
The hearth deserted and dark,
Gladdened by never a spark;
And my only light
Is the pitiless white,
That the moonbeams spill
Silvery chill,
Cruelly — splendidly bright,
This frosty winter’s night –
Cold! — bitterly cold!

Babe, more precious than gold,
Rest, little one, rest!
Sleep my own one,
Slumber, thou lone one,
Clasped to thy mother’s breast,
Though thin and wasted her form,
Her arms shall cufold
And shield thee from cold,
For the love in her breast
For the love in her breast is warm
Though the chill night breeze
May the life-blood freeze –
Cold! — bitterly cold!

Cold! — bitterly cold!
My eyes are dim,
And my senses swim,
And racking pains are in every limb, –
I am prematurely old!
Foodless and tireless,
Almost attireless,
Weapt in rags so scanty and thin
With bones that stare through the colorless skin,
Weary and worn
Tattered and torn,
If I should wish I had ne’er been born –
Tell me, is it a sin?
Cold world! — bitterly cold!

The Portsmouth Times (Portsmouth, Ohio) Dec 16, 1871

Image from http://meredithhopson.blogspot.com/

RURAL POEM,
ON THE APPROACH OF WINTER.

NOW Autumn’s variegated scenes
Are hast’ning to a close’
And soon the farmer will enjoy
The Winter’s calm repose.
No more he’ll turn the verdant globe
‘Till Spring renews the plain,
Nor plant with care the swelling corn,
Nor sow the yellow grain.

The Summer’s bright and scorching sun,
And sultry breeze are past,
Follow’d by autumn’s feeble rays,
And Winter’s chilling blast.
The various fruits of summer months
And sober autumn’s reign,
Now meet no more the wand’ring eye
Or variegate the plain.

From thinking on the winter’s blast,
The Farmer’s mind recoils
Back on these pleasing scenes, now past,
His various summer toils.
How in the pleasant month of June,
When nature all is gay,
He mow’d with care the curling grass,
And made the fragrant hay.

Or when the yellow waving grain
Proclaim’d the harvest near,
When blythsome steps he paced the plain,
And view’d each golden ear;
Which, when matur’d, by sturdy swains,
A sickle each in hand,
With rushing noise, and clamorour mirth,
Was reap’d and bound in bands.

Then to the barn was safe convey’d,
The Winter’s den supply,
Secure from near approaching rain
That threatened in the sky.
Now harvest’s o’er and Phoebus’ beams
With lessen’d ardour shine;
Autumn steals in with grave approach
On summer’s slow decline.

To plow the spacious fallow-field
And break the stubborn soil,
He yokes the patient, sturdy team,
And whistles as he toils.
Thus whistling o’er the furrow’d field,
His though  with pleasure dwells
On the next harvest’s plentious yield,
‘Till hope his bosom swells.

Now noon-day’s glimmering, gloomy sun,
And evening’s chilling air,
And yellow fading nature’s face,
Proclaim the autumn here.
The spacious fields where lowing herds,
In richest pasture stray’d
In summer months, are now forsook;
Their verdure all decay’d.

The butter-firkin, long ‘ere this,
By careful house-wife fill’d,
For winter’s store, shall rich supplies
Or yellow treasure yield.
Matured by genial summer suns,
And tinged with gold around,
The apple from the bended bough,
Comes rattling to the ground:

Which roguish lads and lasses coy,
Trigg’d up so neat and spry,
Collected into evening clubs,
Now peel and cut, to dry,
Or to extract their precious juice,
The mill and press are plied;
Which soon or late in earthen mug,
Shall cheer the bright fire-side.

Or else condens’d to whiskey’s form –
That wonder-working drink,
Which drowns dull care in frantick mirth,
And e’en makes numb-heads think –
It sparkles in the shining glass;
Here reader take a thought:
[Sip you too oft this poisonous draught?
If so -- you'll come to nought.]

The grey-clad cornfield’s rustling noise,
Declares the husking near;
Depending from the loaded stalks,
Are seen the numerous ears.
The husker now, (with peg in hand)
Stalk slowly through the field;
Asunder cleft each stubborn husk
Its yellow treasure yields.

Then sounds the axe among forest oaks,
Fit winter’s fire-wood deem’d;
Homeward the loaded wagon hies,
Drawn by the sturdy team.
Surrounded thus, with bounteous store,
John would not wish to roam;
Content, he with his wife and friends,
Enjoys the sweet of HOME.

PIONEER
Dec. 1814

Ohio Repository, The (Canton, Ohio)Nov 21,> 1816

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WOODS IN WINTER.

BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW

When winter winds are piercing chill,
And through the white-thorn blows the gale,
With solemn feet I tread the hill
That overbrows the lonely vale.

O’er the bare upland, and away
Through the long reach of desert woods
The embracing sunbeams chastely play,
And gladdens these deep solitudes.

On the gray maple’s crusted bark,
Its tender shoots the hoar-frost nips;
Whilst in the frozen fountain — hark! –
His piercing  beak the bittern dips.

Where, twisted round the barren oak,
The summer vine in beauty clung,
And summer winds the stillness broke –
The crystal icicle is hung.

Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs
Pour out the river’s gradual tide,
Shully the skater’s iron rings,
And voices fill the woodland side.

Alas! how changed from the fair scene,
When birds sang out the mellow lay;
And winds were soft, and woods were green,
And the song ceased not with the day!

But still wild music is abroad,
Pale, desert woods, within your crowd;
And gathered winds, in hoarse accord,
Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud.

Chill airs and wintry winds, my ear
Has grown familiar with your song;
I hear it in the opening year –
I listen, and it cheers me long.

Republican Compiler (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Feb 17,  1845

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WHILE SNOWS ARE FALLING.

The springtime came — the springtime went
With shimmering cloud and shiny weather,
The golden glory of June was spent,
On hills and fields we roamed together,
We walked through autumn’s purple haze,
The future’s dream of bliss forestalling,
And shuddering thought of winter days,
With snows a falling.

For earth was all so wondrous fair,
And heaven smiled down so blue above it,
Each wandering breath of balmy air
But bade us learn anew to love it.
What wonder if with all so bright,
And wild birds through the woodland calling,
We sighed to think of a winter’s night,
And snow a falling.

But when at last the world was dressed
In shining robes of ice-maid gleaming,
And calm white silence lulled to rest
The pale, dead flowers beneath it dreaming,
Behold we woke to find made true
The hope our hearts had been forestalling,
And life grew fairer than we knew
While snows were falling.

Ah, well! the days of youth fly fast,
Their suns grow dim, their blossoms wither,
And all the dreams that made our past
Fly fast and far, we know not wither;
But when we tread life’s wintry slope,
We hear again their voices calling,
And Memory clasps the hand of Hope,
While snows are falling.

The Portsmouth Times (Portsmouth, Ohio) Jan 13, 1872

Johnny Clem: The Boy of Chickamauga

Little Johnny Clem

Image above can be found on Find-A-Grave (posted by Grave Tagr,) along with a biographical sketch and pictures of his gravestone.

The Youngest Soldier in the Army of the Cumberland.

Last evening, at the Caledonia supper, Gen. Rosecrans exhibited the photograph of a boy, who, he said, was the youngest soldier in the army of the Cumberland. — His name is Johnny Clem, twelve years of age, a member of company C, 22d, Michigan infantry. His home is at Newark, Ohio. He first attracted Rosecrans’ attention during a review at Nashville, where he was acting as marker for his regiment. His extreme youth (he is quite small for his age) and intelligent appearance interested the general, and calling him out, he questioned him as to his name, age, regiment, &c. Gen. Rosecrans spoke encouragingly to the young soldier and told him to come and see him whenever he came where he was.

He saw no more of Clem until Saturday last, when he went to his place of residence — the Burnett House — and found Johnny Clem sitting on his sofa, waiting to see him. Johnny had experienced some of the vicissitudes of war since they last met. He had been captured by Wheeler’s cavalry, near Bridgeport. His captors took him to Wheeler, who saluted him with –

“What are you doing here, you d—-d little Yankee acoundrel?”

Said Johnny Clem, stoutly — “General Wheeler, I am no more a d—–d scoundrel than you are, sir.”

Johnny said that the rebels stole about all that he had, including his pocket book, which contained only twenty-five cents.

“But I would not have cared for the rest,” he added, “if they hadn’t stole my hat, which had three bullet holes in it, received at Chickamauga.”

He was finally paroled and sent north. On Saturday he was on his way to camp Chase to join his regiment, having been exchanged. Gen. Rosecrans observed that the young soldier had chevrons on his arm, and asked the meaning of it. He said he was promoted to a corporal for shooting a rebel colonel at Chickamauga.

The colonel was mounted, and stopped Johnny on the fied, crying “stop you little Yankee devil.” Johnny halted bringing his Austrian rifle to an “order,” thus throwing the colonel off his guard, cocked his piece, (which he could easily do, being so short) and suddenly bringing it to his shoulder, fired, the colonel falling dead, with a bullet through his breast.

The little fellow told his story simply and modestly, and the general determined to honor his bravery. He gave him the badge of “roll of honor,” which Mrs. Saunders, the wife of the host of the Burnett House, sewed upon Johnny’s coat. His eyes glistened with pride as he looked upon his badge, and little Johnny seemed to have grown an inch or two taller, he stood so erect. He left his photograph with General Rosecrans, who exhibits it with pride. We may again hear from Johnny Clem, the youngest soldier in the Army of the Cumberland.

– Cincinnati Times.

The Daily Gazette (Janesville, Wisconsin) Dec 18, 1863

LITTLE JOHNNY CLEM.

Of course you remember the story of little Johnny Clem, the motherless atom of a drummer-boy, aged ten, who strayed away from Newark, Ohio; and the first we knew of him, though small enough to live in a drum, was beating the long roll for the 22d Michigan. At Chickamauga he filled the office of “marker,” carrying the guidon whereby they form the lines; a duty having its counterpart in the surveyor’s more peaceful calling, in the flagman who flutters the red signal along the metes and bounds. On the Sunday of the battle, the little fellow’s occupation gone, he picked up a gun that had fallen from some dying hand, provided himself with amunition, and began putting in the periods quite on his own account, blazing away close to the ground, like a fire-fly in the grass. Late in the waning day, the waif left almost alone in the whirl of battle, a rebel colonel dashed up, and looking down at him, ordered him to surrender.

“Surrender!” he shouted, “You little d—-d son of a —–!”

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Johnny brought his piece to “order arms,” and as his hand slipped down to the hammer, he pressed it back, swung up the gun to the position of “charge bayonet,” and as the officer raising his sabre to strike the gun aside, the glancing barrel lifted into range, and the proud colonel tumbled from his horse, his lips fresh-stained with the syllable of vile reproach that he had flung on a mother’s grave in the hearing of her child! A few swift moment’s ticked on by musket shots, and the tiny gunner was swept up at a rebel swoop and borne away a prisoner. Soldiers, bigger but not better, were taken with him only to be washed back again by a surge of federal troopers, and the prisoner of thirty minutes was again John Clem “of ours;” and Gen. Rosecrans made him segeant, and the stripes of rank covered him all over, like a mouse in a harness; and the daughter of Mr. Secretary Chase presented him a silver medal appropriately inscribed, which he worthily wears, a royal order of honor, upon his left breast; and all men conspired to spoil him; but, since few ladies can get at him here, perhaps he may be saved.

Well, like Flora McFlimsy, the sergeant ‘had nothing to wear,’ the clothing in the wardrobe of loyal livary was not at all like Desdemonia’s handkerchief, “too little,” but like the garments of the man who roomed a month over a baker’s over, a “world too wide;” and so Miss Babcock of the sanitary commission, suggested that a uniform for the little orderly would be acceptable. Mr. Waite and other gentlemen of the “Sherman House” ordered it, Messrs. A.D. Titsworth & Co., made it, Chaplain Raymond brought it, Miss Babcock presented it, and Johnny put it on. Chaplain Raymond, of the 51st Illinois — by the by, a most earnest and efficient officer — accompanied the gift with exceedingly appropriate suggestions and advice. I happened at headquarters just as the belted and armed sergeant was booted and spurred, and ready to ride. Resplendent in his elegant uniform, rigged cap-a-pie, modest, frank, with a clear and a manly face, he looked more like a fancy picture than a living thing. Said he to the chaplain; “you captured me by surprise yesterday.” Now, he is “going on” thirteen, as our grandmothers used to say; but he would be no monster if we called him only nine. Think of a sixty-three pound sergeant — fancy a handful of a hero, and then read the Arabian Nights, and believe them. Long live the little Orderly!

Rebellion Record.

CENTRALIA SENTINEL (Centralia, Marion Co., Illinois) Nov 16, 1865

THE BOY OF CHICKAMAUGA.

Little Johnny Clem’s Brave Work
(From the Cincinnati Gazette.)

There are but few persons who read the current events of the war for the Union as they were transpiring, who do not remembers, among the enduring record of brilliant achievements made by distinguished officers and the gallant rank and file of the army, the invincible spirit and soldierly qualities displayed by that remarkable child soldier known as “Little Johnny Clem, the drummer boy of Chickamauga.”

Various references from time to time respecting this infantile prodigy of the war have appeared in books and newspapers, yet all have failed to embody some of the most prominent incidents herein narrated connected with his army life. The “Rebellion Record,” by Frank Moore, and Lossing’s “History of the Civil War in America,” have each consigned to the pages of history the undaunted deed that has enrolled his name forever among the most gallant and devoted spirits that participated in the hard fought battle of Chickamauga, as well as other battles to the close of the war. Lossing speaks of little Clem as “probably the youngest person who ever bore arms in battle;” hence every incident connected with his entering the army, and while therein, possesses peculiar interest to those who watched the trembling balances of their country’s fate, and the valor of those to whose keeping they were confided.

John L. Clem, a motherless atom of a drummer boy, who might have been placed, in April, 1861, within a “regulation” drum, was born in Newark, Ohio, August 13, 1851, and in May, 1861, shortly after the war broke out, offered his infantile services as a drummer to Captain McDougal, of the 3d Ohio regiment, which was then passing through his native town, but on account of his size and tender age, not being yet ten years old, he was rejected, the regiment was on his way to the front, and having taken passage on the cars for Cincinnati, our little hero went down on the same train, where he offered himself to the 22d Michigan, who also declined to muster him in on account of his size and years, but owing to the persevering spirit with which he maintained his determination to follow the fortunes of his country upon the field, he was allowed to accompany the regiment in all its subsequent movements, until at length he was beating the “long roll” in front of Shiloh April, 1862, where his soldierly spirit so _on the confidence and admiration of the regiment that in June or July, 1862, he was enlisted at Covington, Ky., as a drummer, but serving afterward also as a marker.”

At Shiloh (known as Pittsburg Landing), his drum was smashed by a shell, which occurrence earned for him the appellation of “Johnny Shiloh,” as a title of distinction for the fearless manner in which he discharged his duty at that bloody battle; and at Chickamauga, of which we shall speak presently, that field of Thomas’ glory and renown, he received the title of “The Drummer Boy of Chickamauga,” under which he has already passed into story, where his name and title will live forever in connection with an act there performed by him, which for coolness and undaunted valor, is not equaled on the pages of ancient or modern warfare, in one so young, and which won for him the highest meed? of praise from Rosecrans and Thomas, and every other officer and man of the Army of the Cumberland.

Here little Johnny Clem, having just passed his twelfth year, exchanged the “long roll” of the drum for the “brisk fire” ___ the deadly musket; and on the 23d day of September, 1863, when the line of battle was about being formed, our little drummer boy, now acting as a “marker,” might have been seen with his trusty little musket, as it afterward proved — which had been shortened for his use — seated upon a __aisson side by side with artillerymen, going sto the front to form the line and face the coming storm of death in common with others. The line being formed, he now took his position in the ranks, and with his little musket began putting in the periods? quite on his own account, blazing away close to the ground like a firefly in the grass. At the close of hte day, when the army was retiring toward Chattanooga, the brigade to which little Johnny was attached was ordered to hold its position, but  ___ing afterward surrounded bythe rebels, demand for its surrender was made directly after its charge had been repulsed. When a rebel colonel rode up toward our little hero, who could not fall back as rapidly as the rest of the line, and made a special demand for him, exclaiming, “Halt! Surrender! you d–n little Yankee s-n of a b—h!” still coming with his sword drawn upon little Johnny, who had now brought his musket to an “order arms,” and in doing which he slipped his hand down the barrel and cocked it while at an “order,” when our little hero suddenly swung up his musket to the position of “charge bayonet” and fired! when lo! our little David brought down the proud Goliah! who fell from his saddle, his lips fresh stained with the reproachful epithet he had just flung upon a mother grave in the hearing of her child! Simultaneous with the performance of this brilliant deed the regiment to which little Johnny belonged was fired into by the surrounding rebels, when he fell as though he had been shot, and laid there until darkness closed in, when he arose and made his way to Chattanooga, after the rest of the army. Now, all history may be searched in vain for an instance of such forethought, courage and self-reliance as this. A reference to this most daring act in the papers of the day was the first intimation his family had received of his whereabouts during his two years’ absence and upward.

Lossing’s History speaks of him as having received three balls through his cap during the fortunes of the day at Chickamauga, which statement has since been full confirmed, only that they were received directly after he had shot the rebel colonel. For his undaunted valor and heroic conduct he was made a sergeant by Rosecrans, who placed him on the roll of honor and attached him to the headquarters of the Army of the Cumberland; and a daughter of Secretary Chase presented him with a silver medal inscribed, “Sergeant Johnny Clem, 22d Michigan Vol. Inf., from N.M.C.,” which he worthily wears as a priceless badge of honor upon his left breast, in connection with his grand army medal.

In a few days after little Johnny’s arrival at Chattanooga, our tiny gunner was captured with others, while detailed to aid in bringing up the supply train from Bridgeport, Alabama, and held in captivity for sixty-three days, during which time he was kept on the move until he was at length paroled down near Tallahassee, Florida, and sent to Camp Chase for exchange, which was not complied with.

Having captured this gallant little prize, the rebels despoiled him of the companionship of his little bullet torn cap, which he endeavored in vain to retain as a reminscence in the future of the perils through which he had passed, taking also from him his jacket and shoes. Upon reaching our lines, he found General Thomas in command of the Army of the Cumberland, who received him with the warmest enthusiasm and made him an orderly sergeant and attached him on his staff.

In addition to the battles of Shiloh and Chickamauga, he was at Perryville, Stone River (sometimes called Murfresboro), Resaca, Kenesaw, Peach Tree Creek, Atlanta, Nashville and others, where the Army of the Cumberland covered itself with so much glory.

Besides the three balls that passed thro’ his little cap at Chickamauga, he was struck once with a fragment of shell upon his hip and twice by balls. Upon one of the latter occasions, he was in the act of delivering a dispatch from General Thomas to General Logan at Atlanta, when a ball struck his little pony obliquely near the top of his head, killing him, and wounding his fearless little rider in the shoulder. He is held in the highest estimation by all the officers and men of the Army of the Cumberland, and General Thomas was his fast friend and correspondent up to the time of his death. He served until the end of the war, when he was honorably mustered out, and at once directed his attention to qualifying himself for a cadetship at West Point, to which he has been appointed a cadet at large by President Grant, upon the recommendation of Generals Thomas and Logan, and other officers of the Army of the Cumberland, in recognition of his gallant services. Owing, however, to the limited opportunities previously afforded him, he was rather unsuccessful in passing his examination last fall in one branch only, having had as fair a general average in the other branches as the majority of those who did pass; but he is now diligently prosecuting his studies during the spare time he is not employed at his desk in the Census office at Washington, with confidence in his ultimate success when again before the board. He is still small in size, very youthful in appearance, and a consistent member of one of our prominent religious denominations; and his pleasant address and modest deportment win the confidence of all with whom he is brought into intercourse.

Decatur Review (Decatur, Illinois) May 4, 1871

Image and an article can be found at Edrumline Crossing the Line

JOHNNY CLEM

Some Interesting Facts of the “Drummer Boy of the Chicamauga” — His Parentage — Career Curing and Since the Late War.

(Special Correspondence to the Dispatch)
NEWARK, July 20, 1880.

A person passing through the markets any Wednesday or Saturday, can see a medium-sized man, with straggling gray hairs and a face that plainly indicates the possessor’s German extraction, standing behind a rudely constructed bench loaded down with vegetables and garden truck. Through rains and storms this silent and seemingly contented German market tender has stood at his allotted market space. He lives and has lived, for the last twenty years, in a small and comfortable house, about a mile from this city, on the Granville road. This is the father of Johnny Clem, whom everybody in the Army of the Cumberland knew as “the drummer boy of Chickamauga.”

At the breaking out of the war, Johnny was struck with the martial music of the troops recruiting in this city, and ran away from home, going into the army as a drummer boy. Everybody is familiar with the history of this daring lad, who was petted by the officers and soldiers on all sides. During the war he became a favorite Orderly of General George H. Thomas, who, at the close of the war, assumed a sort of guardianship over him, and took a special interest in his welfare.

Johnny was sent to school at West Point, where he graduated, and soon afterwards entered the regular army and was stationed at Texas. Here he met General Brown’s daughter, and soon after married her. It was not long after his marriage that he was promoted and stationed at Fort Brown, Texas, where he still remains on duty.

Every summer he visits his aged parents and renews old acquaintances with his school-mates and companions. Johnny’s brother Louis, entered the regular army some few years ago, and, during an engagement on the Western frontier with the Indians, was massacred. The death of the brave boy weighed heavily on his aged father, and he frequently relates his sorrows to attentive listeners.

‘Pap’ Thomas frequently wrote to his protege, and a paragraph from one dated at Nashville, June 27, 1866, has special interest at the present time. The following is an exact:

“DEAR JOHNNIE — Do you remember the story of General Garfield’s life? He worked on a canal, and educated himself by buying his text book, which he studied at every leisure moment, while the canal was not frozen up. Now he is one of the most distinguished of our Representatives in Congress. He was also greatly distinguished as a soldier during the late war.”

Johnny Clem acquired a national reputation, as the youngest and smallest soldier in the Union army, as well as for gallant conduct.

The Marion Daily Star (Marion, Ohio) Jul 30, 1880

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CAPTAIN JOHN CLEM

Incidents of His Early Life Recalled by a Meeting with Mrs. Grant.

The many friends in Newark of Captain John Clem of the United States Army will be interested in the following taken from the Columbus Dispatch:

Columbus people will undoubtedly read with interest the details of a meeting between Mrs. U.S. Grant and Captain John Clem which occurred at Atlanta yesterday. Captain Clem, now Assistant Quartermaster General of the army, was for a long time stationed at the Garrison in this city and, departing, left a legion of friends. His meeting with the widow of General Grant occurred at a reception she was holding for Confederate veterans at Atlanta. This favor had been asked by the veterans and readily granted. Among other who called to pay their respects to Mrs. Grant was Captain Clem.

“Of course I know Captain Clem if it is Johnny Clem, the drummer boy,” said Mrs. Grant when introduced to him, “I remember so well hearing my husband tell of how he found you at Shiloh that day beating the long roll and telling you you were a brave boy, but ought to be home.”

Captain Clem received his appointment as a lieutenant at the hands of President Grant. Of the reception in general Mrs. Grant said, “I regard it as one of the most handsome compliments that has ever been paid to me.”

Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Jan 31, 1895

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“JOHNNY” CLEM

To Be a Major — Honor Paid to a Newark Boy.

A dispatch from Atlanta conveys the intelligence that Captain John L. Clem, Assistant United States Quartermaster, stationed at Atlanta, has received work from Washington that he will be promoted to the next grade to which he is eligible, (Quartermaster with rank of Major) as soon as a vacancy occurs.

“Johnny Clem will be remembered as “The Drummer Boy of Shiloh.”
His many friends congratulate him on his prospective appointment.

Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Feb 14, 1895

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A Soldier at 11.

There are only 77 officers on the active list of the army below the grade of general who served in the Civil War. All of these with one exception will soon be retired. The exception is that of Col. John L Clem, of the quartermaster’s department, whose age limit will not be reached until 1915. This extended time is due to the fact that “Little Johnny Clem, the drummer boy of Chickamauga,” as he was familiarly known, was probably the youngest person who ever bore arms in battle.

Col. Clem was also known as “Johnny Shiloh,” from the fact that in the battle of Shiloh he rode to the firing line on a caisson by the side of a veteran artilleryman, and then performed an act of daring in such a brave and cool manner that it gave him a name in history. He drummed the charge at Shiloh when he was only 11 years old, and with his short musket he killed the Confederate colonel who demanded his surrender at Chickamuaga. He is a popular officer, not only with his fellows of the army, but in social circles as well, being as genial a man as he is chivalrous a soldier.

Col. Clem was born in Ohio on Aug. 13, 1851, and in May, 1861, before he was 10 years old, he offered his services to the Third Ohio Regiment as drummer, but the mustering officer declined to enlist him because of his size and his youth. Later he offered his services to the Twenty-second Michigan, and though enlistment was refused, he was permitted to accompany the regiment to the field and to beat the “long roll” in front of Shiloh in April 1862. His soldierly manner and conduct in that engagement so won the confidence and admiration of the officers of the regiment that in May, 1863, he was permitted to enlist as a drummer and was then known as “Johnny Shiloh.” But it was on Sept. 23, 1863, at the battle of Chickamauga, that he displayed especial bravery. He had just passed his 12th birthday anniversary and had laid aside his drum for a musket, the barrel of which had been cut down for his use; and after acting as a “marker” for a time he took his place in the ranks. As the day closed, and the army retired to Chattanooga, his brigade was ordered by the enemy to surrender, and “Little Johnny” was himself covered by the sword of a Confederate colonel. His regiment was then fired into, and, falling as if shot, the juvenile soldier lay close until dar, when he went to Chattanooga and joined his command. But as he fell to the ground he fired at the Confederate officer and killed him, and so demoralized the Confederate com???? in such a way that his own associates escaped capture.

For his bravery young Clem was made a sergeant by Gen. Rosecrans and detailed to the headquarters of the Department of the Cumberland. He also received a silver medal from the hands of Miss Kate Chase, daughter of Chief Justice Chase. He was afterward captured by the Confederates and held prisoner for 68 days, and after his release he was promoted to orderly sergeant by Gen. Thomas. He was discharged from the service in September, 1864, when he returned to his old home and attended school, being graduated from the Newark High School in 1870. President Grant, who had kept watch of “Little Johnny” after the war ended, appointed him a second lieutenant in the regular army in 1871. Three years later he went to the artillery school at Fortress Monroe for a course of instruction in military science, and a year later passed a most sucessful examination.

The Daily Herald (Delphos, Ohio) Nov 13, 1903

SOLDIER AT TEN, IS TO QUIT ARMY

Colonel Clem Last Civil War Veteran In Active Service.

FIRST WOND FAME AT SHILOH

Fought With Little Musket Which Men of His Regiment Fashioned For Him — His Memorable Encounter With a Confederate Colonel After Chickamauga — Youngest Sergeant.
[Excerpt]

Youngest Sergeant Army Has Had.

After the battle General Rosecrans made Clem a sergeant — the youngest of that rank who ever served in the United States army.

Following the battle of Chickamauga, when the Union army was retiring toward Chattanooga, the brigade to which Clem was attached had been ordered to hold its position. The position became untenable, and the brigade fell back and, in doing so, lost “Little Johnny” Clem.

Suddenly out of the woods he came like a scared rabbit and ran full tilt into a Confederate colonel.

“My but you are a little shaver to be in this business!” the Confederate officer said, “But war is war, so you had better drop that gun.”

Instead, the boy fired point blank. The colonel fell from his horse badly wounded, and Johnny darted into the bushes. Late that night he turned up at Chattanooga.

The Confederate colonel, who recovered, afterward said he would never get over the suprise “that kid gave him.”

Adams County News (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Jul 4, 1914

“LITTLEST HERO OF CIVIL WAR” TO RETIRE FRIDAY THIRTEENTH

Brigadier General John L. Clem, “The Drummer Boy of Chickamauga,” and the Last Civil War Veteran in the U.S. Army, Will Go Out of Service On His “Lucky Day” — Gets a Job With His Son in San Antonio.

When Colonel John Lincoln Clem, officer in the Quartermaster Department at Washington and personal friend of hundreds of San Antonians, is retired from active service with the rank of brigadier general Friday, the thirteenth of August, this year, the last living link between the present United States army and the armies that participated in the civil war will be severed. Colonel Clem is the only veteran of that tremendous conflick still in active service with the United States Army.

After active service in the army for more than 45 years — he could have retired 15 years ago had he wanted to — “[the littlest hero] of the civil war,” and one of the most interesting figures in the army of the United States at the present time will quit active service and come to San Antonio to make his home as Brigadier General John L. Clem, U.S.A., retired.

He was born on Friday, the thirteenth of August, 1851; while he is not the least bit superstitious, the combination of Friday and the thirteenth day of the month, has marked the luckiest events of his life, and he will retire when that combination occurs in August on his sixty-fourth birthday. More than once in his lifetime has he remarked upon incidents which have turned out to his advantage occurring on the thirteenth of hte month and usually when that date fell on Friday. It is a strange coincidence that almost every time he was advised of promotion in the army, the notice came to him on the thirteenth day of the month.

Asks Son for a Job.

And when this combination occurs on the calendar next month he will retire from active service in the army, but not from active participation in affairs of the world. Brigadier General John Lincoln Clem, U.S.A., retired, hero of the civil war and late important figure in quartermasters affairs at Washington, will come to San Antonio to become automobile salesman in the regular employ of the Collins-Clem Automobile Company, one of the proprietors of which is his son, John L. Clem Jr.

Recently Colonel Clem wrote to his son: “I hereby make formal application for a position as automobile salesman with the Collins-Clem Automobile Company, distributers of Studebaker cars in the San Antonio district. Please advise me of your decision in the matter.” Then he wrote down at the bottom: “I am yet just as good a man as you are, son, and I can do just as much hard work in one day as you can, if I am a little old. I am going to buy a car from you, hire me a chauffeur to drive me on demonstrations, and I will sell as many cars as you will.”

This letter, as much as many other incidents in his life, brings out the quality in his character which have made him one of the most beloved of men among his associates.

“Invaded” Mexico.

One of these incidents, which forms the theme of a story many of his friends take great delight in relating about him, occurred on the Rio Grande frontier shortly after he entered the United States army as a second lieutenant. Lieutenant Clem was placed in charged of a squad of soldiers sent out to apprehend cattle thieves. The soldiers trailed the outlaws five days, but were unable to get closer than within a few miles of the rapidly fleeing band. The cattle thieves escaped across the Rio Grande and stood on the other side making motions at the soldiers, which Lieutenant Clem understood as essentially insulting. He resented their actions intensely, and at the head of his squad, crossed over the river into Mexico, gave chase to the desperadoes, and in an engagement the cattle thieves were killed to the last man.

Shortly after the incident, Lieutenant Clem received a letter from the commander of the department, General E.O.C. Ord. Lieutenant Clem was officially reprimanded. He was told that his conduct was unbecoming an officer of the United States army, he had been guilty of tremendous lack of judgement, he had violated the neutrality laws and his action might result in complications between two nations at peace. Such an escapade must never be repeated, on pain of serious consequences to the perpetrator.

The Heart of a Soldier.

The communication was officially signed in ink. A penciled inscription, in the department commander’s handwriting at the bottom of the page, read: “Good boy, Johnny, do it again.”

A newspaper correspondent in Washington asked Colonel Clem, on the occasion of the last memorial day, what memory was uppermost in his mind that day. And the famous old soldier, who, at the age of 12 years, was the twice-wounded veteran of one of the greatest campaigns of history, did not reply with a tale of sanguinary adventure.

“My memory pictures today what my kid eyes saw fifty-one years ago today,” he said gently, “a soldier in blue an a soldier in gray, shaking hands like two loving comrades between the trneches, swapping tobacco and coffee. In the morning they were to stab each other brutally with bayonets in a fierce hand-to-hand fight for those very trenches. Yet what I like to think of first on memorial day is not the bloody fight, but that tender scene preceding it, which showed me that after all, man to man, we soldiers of the north and of the south were friends and brothers always. We of the north hated that which they fought for, but we did not hate them personally, nor they us.

Was Impersonal War.

“And that is the most hallowed of my memories on this memorial day, for it brings back the thought that we who fought to kill each other were really never enemies. It was a war of cannon against fortress, of rifle against trench, but never of man against his brother man!

“It is the great tragedy of those bloody deaths we brought each other, but not because of hatred for each other, but for the sake of a principle, that we must think of on this sacred memorial day.”

Johnny Clem ran away from his home in Newark, O., when he was ten years old and attached himself to the Twenty-second Michigan regiment. The officers tried to chase him away, but the soldiers made him a pet and mascot and, finally, in May, 1862, the colonel enlisted him.

He was the hero of a brilliant scene at Chickamauga performed right under the eyes of his Union comrades, who were falling back rapidly. Johnny’s poor little legs were weary, and, so he lagged behind, a Confederate colonel galloped up to him, “Surrender, you damned little Yankee devil,” he cried.

Loved Life by Feigning Death.

Weak and tired though he was, his nerves never quivered. He pulled up his heavy musket — he had abandoned his drum — and fired. The colonel fell headlong from his horse, and a volley of bullets from the men behind him rained over Johnny Clem. Johnny’s comrades on the hill saw their heroic little soldier boy fall face downward. The battle raged four hours after that, and at dark the Union forces rested. Suddenly, into their bivouac crept Johnny Clem, unhurt, and displaying with tremendous pride his cap pierced by three bullet holes. He had saved his own life by shamming death.

General Thomas made the hero drummer boy a sergeant for that deed of bravery. And when the general advised him of promotion, the youngster answered: “General, is that all you’re going to make me?”

Later in his civil war careet, the 12-year-old soldier was hit on the hip by part of a shell, wounded in the ear while dispatch riding and once taken prisoner.
He is probably the only living man who voted legally at an age under 15. At the time Lincoln was elected the second time, all soldiers of the army were allowed to vote. Johnny Clem was a soldier in the army and he voted.

Johnny Clem went to high school when the war was over and then entered the army as second lieutenant. In his early service, he was the central figure in many exciting adventures on the Texas frontier. He is one of the very few infantry officers to graduate from the army artillary school and holds other distinctions for service in the army.

To Know Him Is To Love Him.

He was stationed at Fort Sam Houston for the first time in 1900 in the quartermaster department. He remained here four years, after which time he became chief of the quartermaster department of the Philippines, with headquarters in Manila. Two years later he was transferred to San Francisco and later returned to Fort Sam Houston as chief of hte quartermaster department of the Department of Texas. While stationed here, he probably made more friends among San Antonians than any other army officer who has ever been quartered at the army post.

Colonel Clem left Fort Sam Houston four years ago when he was transferred to the quartermaster department in Washington. He has been connected with the quartermaster department in Washington for the last two years.

After retiring from the army August 13, Colonel Clem will spend several months in the north and east,. At Dayton, O., a city-wide celebration, to be known as Clem day, has been arranged in his honor by Colonel Clem Garrison, Army and Navy Union, and the Grand Army of the Republic organization in that city.

He will come to San Antonio about December 1 to make his home.

THE SAN ANTONIO LIGHT (San Antonio, Texas) Jul 11, 1915

*****

Read more about Johnny Clem:

Ohio History Central: Johnny Klem – Johnny Clem

Learn Civil War History: A Civil War Blog of History and Stories:  Johnny Clem

Watch the official trailer for the movie: Johnny

An Ohio Pioneer Woman’s Obituary

From the TRIBUNE.

DIED — December 31st, 1870, Mrs. Martha Alford, re???? of Esquire R.B. Alford, late of Portsmouth. Mrs. Alford was born in Mason County, Kentucky, about the year 1797, the precise date not known. She came to Portsmouth in the spring of 1812, consequently she has resided in Portsmouth and vicinity nearly fifty-eight years.

Her father’s family emigrated from Maryland to Kentucky in 1793, while the Indians were yet prowling along the banks of the Ohio, watching for an opportunity to decoy boats within their power, so as to murder and scalp the defenceless emigrants and plunder their boats of whatever they contained. However, the boat containing the family of Griffith Jones ran the gauntlet in safety without any thing more serious happening to them than a false alarm or two and hearing an occasional war whoop or a yell from the infurate savages.

Mrs. Alford was born into the Methodist church and always lived a consistent member of that denomination, and was a truly exemplary christian mother in Israel. In order to have cicar conception of her christian character it is necessary to go back a little and see under what circumstances she became a christian.

Her father joined the Methodist church before the revolutionary war under the preaching of the first founders of Methodism in America. When such preachers as Freeborn, Garrettson and Abbott, and other of lesser note were carrying every thing before them with their powerful preaching. His house was always the preacher’s home.

A rude log cabin, perhaps it generally was, yet the weary “itinerant,” with his horse and saddle bags, always found a welcome home at the house of Griffith Jones. So that Martha, the youngest child of a large family, as was said above, was literally born into the Methodist church. As to how well she performed the duties of a christian, all those who were acquainted with her can testify.

She was twice married. The first time to a man by the name of Lodge, who died early with the consumption. She had three children by her first husband who inherited their father’s disease and all died soon after coming to maturity. She had no children by her last husband, consequently leaves no descendants.

She was the last survivor of a large family, who flourished here in the early settlement of Portsmouth. Some few of the Glovers and Joneses yet remain amongst us.

The Portsmouth Times (Portsmouth, Ohio) Jan 7, 1871

Jim Bludso (of the Prairie Belle)

Image from http://winmillfamily.com/riverboat_disaster.jpg

JIM BLUDSO
(Of the Praire Belle.)

BY JOHN HAY

Wall, no; I can’t tell where he lives,
Becase he don’t live, you see;
Leastways, he’s got out of the habit
Of livin’ like you and me.
Whar have you been for the last three year
That you haven’t heard folks tell
How Jimmy Bludso passed in his checks,
The night of the Prairie Belle?

He wern’t no saint — them engineers
Is all pretty much alike –
One wife in Natchez-under-the-Hill,
And another one here, in Pike.
A keerless man in his talk was Jim,
And an awkward man in a row –
But he never flunked, and he never lied,
I reckon he never knowed how.

And this was all the religion he had –
To treat his engine well;
Never be passed on the river;
To mind the Pilot’s bell;
And if ever the Prairie Belle took fire –
A thousand times he swore,
He’d hold her nozzle agin the bank
Till the last should got ashore.

All boats has their day on the Mississip,
And her day came at last –
The Movastar was a better boat,
But the Belle she wouldn’t be passed.
And so she came tearin’ along that night –
The oldest craft on the line –
With a nigger squat on her safety valve,
And her furnace crammed, rosin and pine.

The fire bust out as she clared the bar,
And burnt a hole in the night,
And quick as a flash she turned and made
For that willer-bank on the right.
There was running and cursing, but Jim yelled out,
Over all the infernal roar,
“I’ll hold her nozzel again the bank
Till the last galoot’s ashore.”

Through the hot, black breath of the burnin’ boat
Jim Bludso’s voice was heard,
And they all had trust in his cussedness,
And knowed he would keep his word.
And, sure’s you’re born, they all got off
Afore the smoke-stacks fell –
And Bludso’s ghost went up alone,
In the smoke of the Prairie Belle.

He wern’t no saint — but at jedgment
I’d run my chance with Jim,
Longside with some pious gentlemen
That wouldn’t shook hands with him.
He seen his duty, a dead sure thing –
And went for it thar and then;
And Christ ain’t a goin’ to  too hard
On a man that died for men.

Decatur Review (Decatur, Illinois) Feb 2, 1871

*****

Listen and watch at Encyclopedia.com:

John Hay “Jim Bludso of the Prairie Belle” Poem Animation

A Bully Gets His Due (The Kightlinger Murder)

Plank Road Bridge ( Crawford Co., PA built 1895)

Image from Historic Bridges website. This is not the bridge mentioned in this post, but it is in the same county. The linked website has tons of historic bridges with lots of photos and information about them, including the one above.

A Man Shot Dead in Hydetown.

Shortly after six o’clock on Saturday night, a fight took place a few yards west of Fulmer’s bridge in Hydetown, between two teamsters named respectively George Turner and Rowland Kightlinger, which resulted in the latter being shot dead. The affair appears to have been the result of a family feud. It is stated that George Turner worked for William Kightlinger, the uncle of the deceased, last spring, and during that time William Kightlinger had a quarrel with his wife and deserted her. George took part with the wife, which so incensed the Kightlinger family that they persecuted and abused George whenever opportunity offered. On Saturday morning last, John Kightlinger, another uncle of the deceased, and Rowland Kightlinger (the deceased,) started for Titusville with separate teams, and stopped at Brawley’s hotel on Spring street. About the same time George Turner and William Turner, his uncle, together with Frank Brown, from started Hydetown to Titusville with another team; but before leaving the former place they stopped at Ridgeway’s tavern, where William Turner traded a watch for a rifle with John Gesellchager, the barkeeper. The stock being broken off the rifle, he brought it to Titusville and had it repaired. This party also stopped at the Brawley hotel. On the return trip it seems the two conflicting parties met, about half way on the road between this city and Hydetown. George Turner was at once attacked by Rowland Kightlinger, which resulted in the former having a new suit of clothes torn from his back, and Rowland receiving a gash on the left side of his face. The Kightlingers then drove on, as also the team in which George had been, and which contained Doctor Gage of Hydetown and Frank Brown; George Turner was left behind.

Meanwhile, William Turner, the uncle, and another William Turner, a younger brother of George, came up and found the latter in a pretty bad condition. They took him into their wagon and drove directly to Fulmer’s bridge, in Hydetown. The Kightlingers had stopped at Edgeway’s, some distance this side the bridge, where they gave an account of the fight. Rowland was drunk and abusive, and with oaths he threatened to whip George again as soon as he came past, but it appears George had gone another road to reach the bridge. After a while, Frank Brown came into the tavern, and Dr. Gage being intoxicated (according to report) drove forward to Sink’s hotel at the upper end of Hydetown. Brown started after him, and meeting George Turner at the bridge asked him to go with him for his (Brown’s) wagon. The two started off together, and William Turner, the uncle, followed, leaving William Turner, the younger brother of George, alone in the wagon near the bridge. In a few minutes the Kightlingers came to the bridge and asked William where his brother was, and were informed that he had gone up to Sink’s. Rowland said they would “wait for him and lick him, or that he should lick them.”

They then drove their horses across the creek and deliberately hitched them to two trees at the edge of the road. Rowland’s team was ahead, John Kightlinger’s team in the rear. After hitching the teams they took off their overcoats and engaged in conversation. In about half an hour after this, George Turner came down from Sink’s in Brown’s wagon. Brown was driving; nobody being in the wagon but Brown and Turner. They drove directly past Rowland’s team, when Rowland hailed them to stop. Brown got out and attempted to pacify Rowland, but received a black eye for his answer. Rowland then rushed towards George Turner and made several efforts to pull him out of the wagon, but George pushed him back with his rifle and refused to get out and fight. Rowland then put his foot on the fore wheel of the wagon and seized hold of the barrel of the gun. In the midst of the struggle he pulled the barrel from the stock which was in the hands of Turner, and the piece went off, the ball passing through Rowland’s heart, killing him instantly.

Justice Daniel Burgher, of Hydetown, was notified and proceeded to the place where the body lay. He also procured the services of Dr. Abraham Titus to examine the body. All the parties present at the affray had meanwhile disappeared, and nothing remained but the body and the wagon of deceased, his coat, hat and gloves, and the stock of the gun, which was found about four feet from his head. A jury of six men were impaneled, as follows: H.G. Swift, foreman; D.T. Titus, G. Spaulding, I.L. Hubbard, P.H. Powers, and I. Stetson.

The body was then removed from the mud to a grass plot a few yards distant, and the physician made a thorough examination, and ascertained that the ball had entered the left side just above the heart, but he could not detect that it had passed through the body. There being no witnesses present, the jury were requested to hold themselves in readiness to be called upon as soon as the former could be obtained and the body was sent home to the father of the deceased, Mr. Abraham Kightlinger, who resides about three miles from Hydetown. The father was also notified not to inter the remains without a proper permit. Mr. Curtis, of Titusville, coroner of Crawford county, notified Justice Burgher that he would hold an inquest this morning, and the case will probably be handed over to him.

Our reporter is greatly indebted to Justice Burgher for his valuable assistance in obtaining the above information. The deceased was a single man, 23 years of age, and weighed 170 pounds. The general impression appears to be that Hydetown has got rid of a notoriously bad character. No warrant has been issued for the arrest of George Turner. Policeman Giles Sanford and special James Haren endeavored to find him on Saturday night, but it was supposed by his relatives that he intended going to Meadville to surrender himself there, and had left for that purpose. He is only 23 years of age and a much lighter man than his adversary. He bears a good reputation among his neighbors. The barrel of the gun was found at John Turner’s house by the officers. The bullet is also said to have been found, having passed through the body. The vest of deceased bore evidence of having been scorched with powder. Our reporter obtained the above information from parties who claimed to have been eye-witnesses, and none of the statements appear to conflict, excepting that of John Kightlinger, who asserts that he did not see either of the parties fighting, although there are plenty of witnesses who heard John calling upon Rowland to kill Turner. The coroner’s investigation will probably elicit all the facts.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Dec 5, 1870

CORONER’S INQUEST ON THE KILLING OF KIGHTLINGER

The inquest on the body of Rowland Kightlinger, who was shot in Hydetown last Saturday, was resumed on Monday morning by Coroner T.L. Curtis of this city, at the residence of Mr. Abraham Kightlinger, the father of the deceased. After viewing the body, a permit was granted for its interment. On repairing to the school-house at Hydetown, the testimony of a large number of witnesses was taken, developing substantially the same facts which have already been narrated in our published account of the catastrophe on Monday last. The following is an abstract of the extended verdict which was rendered last night at seven o’clock. That the death of Rowland Kightlinger resulted from an accidental gun shot wound; that one Geo. Turner is supposed to have used said weapon or gun in self defence while being attacked without just cause or provocation, and while traveling in his wagon in the public highway; that the firing of the gun by the said George Turner, and the accidental killing of Rowland Kightlinger was a justifiable homicide in self defence.

This is an extraordinary conclusion to arrive at, and seems to involve some confusion of ideas as to the force of language, and the signification of legal terms. If the killing was accidental, it could not have been in self defence it would have been excusable homicide not justifiable homicide, according to the accepted  definitions of criminal law.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Dec 7, 1870

THE HYDETOWN HOMICIDE.

In our report of this case on Monday, it was stated that the general impression was that Hydetown had got rid of a notoriously bad character. We received a call yesterday from Mr. Abram Kightlinger, father of the deceased, who informs us that this statement does great injustice to the reputation which his son sustained in the community. Rowland Kightlinger (the deceased) was about twenty-two years of age. He had resided all his life in Troy township, with the exception of four months, last winter, while he was employed as teamster at Powers’ lumber mill. He was a steady and industrious workman, and always conducted himself in a proper manner, except when he visited Titusville or Hydetown, and fell to drinking with his associates, and such sprees wee very unfrequent. He had a good many personal friends, and was not of a quarrelsome disposition.

The funeral of deceased took place on Monday at 2 p.m., from the residence of Abram Kightlinger, in Troy township, two miles west of Hydetown. It was attended by a very large number of people from all parts of the country. Rev. Mr. Hoyt of the Diamond conducted the services, and preached a very impressive sermon. The Kightlinger family have been settled in this section nineteen years, and have a very extended connection, embracing fully seventy-five persons, who reside in Troy and Plum townships within an area of five or six miles. Nothing has been heard of George Turner since the homicide. The rifle with which he shot Kightlinger is the same implement with which Joel Ridgeway fractured an Irishman’s skull about a fortnight ago at Hydetown, during a little theological discussion in the bar-room.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Dec 8, 1870

SURRENDER OF GEORGE TURNER.

We learn that George Turner, who shot Rowland Kightlinger at Hydetown on Saturday last, has surrendered himself to the custody of Sheriff Ellsworth, and is in jail at Meadville. It has been ascertained that Turner remained concealed for some time in the barn of Justice Green, in Troy township, and during the search for him by officers and Kightlinger’s friends, they visited the barn, but he escaped detection. He is said to have expressed a wish to the Sheriff that he would prefer to remain in custody till the Grand Jury have acted upon the case.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Dec 10, 1870

THE HYDETOWN HOMICIDE.

We stated on Monday that a warrant had been issued by Justice Strouse for the arrest of George Turner, who shot Rowland Kightlinger at Hydetown. Turner had surrendered himself to the Sheriff at Meadville, and been released on his recognizance; but last evening telegraphed to Chief of Police Rouse that he would arrive here on this morning’s train. The examination will be held before Justice Strouse to-day at 2 o’clock, if a suitable room can be procured. Officer Miller was dispatched to Hydetown last evening to supoena witnesses.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Dec 15, 1870

The Kightlinger Homicide.

The Kightlinger case kept the city yesterday in a lively ferment. Justice Strouse procured the use of a large room on the second floor of a building on Diamond street, in which to hold the examination. Frank Brown, who was arrested as an accessory, was on hand, together with the witnesses from Hydetown, but George Turner, who is accused of the murder, did not put in an appearance. A.B. Richmond, Esp., telegraphed that George Turner had started from Franklin for Titusville on Wednesday last. Some of his friends here entertain fears that he was been waylaid on the road; this, however, we can hardly credit under the circumstances. By others it is supposed, that being short of funds, he is footing it to Titusville, and may come to hand at any moment. A preliminary examination of Frank Brown was held by Esq. Strouse, yesterday afternoon, F.B. Guthrie appearing as attorney, for the Commonwealth, and Messrs. Barry and Johns for the defense. Owing to the latter gentleman not having time to attend the case, it was postponed until nine o’clock this morning. The following witnesses for the commonwealth were held to appear in the sum of $100 each: Robert Davidson, J.A. Reed, Deforest Ross, Benjamin Ross, James Arters, Patrick Griffin, Miles Griffin, Wm. Wilkinson, John Kightlinger, John Turner, Matt. Reddy, David Baugher, William H. Marsh and James Marsh. Frank Brown was placed in charge of officer Miller.

Below we present a communication from Frank Brown, giving his version of the transaction:

STATEMENT OF FRANCIS BROWN.

Editors Morning Herald: — Having been arrested upon a warrant issued at the instance of Abram Kightlinger (father of Rowland Kightlinger, deceased) upon a warrant charging me with “abetting and assisting George Turner in shooting Rowland Kightlinger,” I purpose to give your readers a full and unprejudiced statement of the affair, so far as my personal knowledge of it is concerned.

On the morning of Saturday, December 3d, I started for Titusville with a load of wood. On reaching Ridgeway’s tavern, I stopped a few moments, and found there Wm. Turner and his nephew, George Turner, bargaining with John Gelsinger, the bartender, for a rifle. The rifle was not loaded — at least Gelsinger said it was not — and the trade was effected by Wm. Turner giving a watch in exchange for it. William and George Turner then rode with me to Bucklin’s tavern, where we took a drink a piece and left the rifle “up the spout.” We then came on to Brawley’s tavern, where we stopped and I sold my wood. John and Rowland Kightlinger and George Turner seemed to exchange the time of day. No difficulty occurred between them. After unloading the wood, I drove into Titusville, hitched my team at the wood-yard on Martin street, and went about other business. The Turners also sent about private business.

About 3 o’clock p.m., I started for home. I met Dr. Gage near Brawley’s and persuaded him to ride home with me, as I wanted medicine for my family. We drove on to Bucklin’s tavern, and there stopped for a few minutes. While there, the Turners came along with Riley Fisher’s team which young Wm. Turner was driving. Wm. Turner, senior, and George were also in the wagon. George Turner asked if he could ride with me, as he wanted to go to Green’s, which is adjoining my farm. I consented, and he got into the wagon and we drove along. Shortly afterwards the Kightlingers overtook us, with their own team, and requested me to stop. After stopping, I looked around and saw Rowland Kightlinger clinched with George Turner, who was at the back of my wagon. Rowland tore off George’s coat, cap and vest, and left them lying in the road.

We drove on and left the Kightlingers behind. Soon afterwards, George Turner said he would go back and see if he could find his clothes. He got out of the wagon and started into the woods, as I supposed to avoid the Kightlingers; I then drove on with Gage to Ridgeway’s tavern, but before reaching there the Kightlings passed me on the road. I found them at the tavern and left them there; I then went to Ewing’s store and stopped there to get some resin; upon coming out I found that Gage had driven off my team; I started to look for the team and found William and George Turner riding in the Fisher wagon. I asked one of them to go with me, and George got out of the wagon. He then had the rifle in his hands, the first that I had seen of it since it was left at Bucklin’s in the morning. We found my team at Sink’s tavern, where I bought a glass of whiskey to apply to a cut on my horse’s hoof. After getting into the wagon we drove on, and upon reaching the forks of the road leading to Powers’ mill we saw a number of men and teams at the side of the road. One asked, “Is that you, Frank?” and I replied “Yes.” I think it was Rowland Kightlinger’s voice. He asked where George Turner was. I got out and replied that George was in the wagon. Rowland then came up and struck me twoice severly in the face. I said: “This in not George.” He then left me and started for the wagon. The next thing I heard was the report of the rifle. IT was then between six and seven o’clock, and quite dark. As soon as the rifle was discharged, the horses started at a rapid pace. I ran after them, jumped into the wagon, and found that George had the lines. I asked him to let me drive. He refused and I think he said he “had shot Rowl.” He rode with me perhaps a mile or more and then got out, and I have not seen him since.

This is a plain matter of fact statement of the whole affair, so far as my connection with it is concerned.

Respectfully yours,

FRANCIS BROWN.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Dec 16, 1870

The Kightlinger Homicide.

The Kightlinger killing case was brought before Justice Strouse yesterday morning at nine o’clock. The examination was held on the second floor over J. Hoenig’s store on Diamond street, and a large crowd of spectators from the country and city were present. George Turner did not appear, as was expected, but A.B. Richmond, Esp., of Meadville, hs counsel, was present, and stated that he would probably have him there at one o’clock. The case was therefore adjourned till that hour, as also to give Mr. Richmond opportunity to consult with his other client, Frank Brown. George Turner did not come to hand at the hour indicated, and about half-past one o’clock Messrs. Richmond, Barry, and Johns appeared for Francis Brown, and Mr. F.B. Guthrie for the Commonwealth. Mr. Guthrie commenced by requesting the Justice to exclude the reporters of the press. as the evidence, if published, might injure the cause of the Commonwealth.

The opposite consel had no objection to the reporters remaining, but thought that the publication of the evidence might render it difficult to empannel an unprejudiced jury, when the case was tried at the Court of Sessions. Justice Strouse also coincided with this view, and requested that the evidence should not be published.

The case was then proceeded with, and eight witnesses were examined, as follows:

John Kightlinger, Robert Davidson, J.A. Ried, Deforest Ross, James Marsh, Wm. H. Marsh, Matt Ruddy, and John Turner.

No further evidence of importance was elicited, other than what was contained in our original statement of the affair. There was, however, some pretty hard and contradictory swearing, which will doubtless eventually recoil on the heads of those who rendered it. The examination was concluded about five o’clock, when the case was summed up on the part of the defense by A.B. Richmond, Esq., and on the part of the prosecution by Mr. Guthrie. The Justice committed the prisoner to await the action of the Grand Jury.

In the course of the examination, Mr. Hoenig, the proprietor of the room, sent for Mr. Van Ulrich, architect, as the building appeared to be settling from the immense weight on the floor above. Mr. Ulrich discovered that one side of the building had settled three inches, and there was considerable danger of the floor giving way. The Justice requested all the small boys and those who were not personally interested in the case to leave. The crowd rapidly dispersed and the room remained about half full until the close of the examination. George Turner may be expected here daily.

Francis Brown left here for Meadville last night in charge of officer Miller, and accompanied by a large number of his relatives and personal friends.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Dec 17, 1870

Letter from George Turner — His Account of the Kightlinger Homicide.
TITUSVILLE, Dec. 17, 1870.

Editors Morning Herald:

I have seen a letter in the MORNING HERALD signed by Francis Brown, giving an account of the circumstances attending the death of Rowland Kightlinger, who was accidently shot on Saturday night, Dec. 8d, while committing a murderous assault upon me at Hydetown. I have been arrested upon a charge of murdering him, and as so much misrepresentaton has been made in regard to the case, I have been requested by some of my friends to give you a correct statement of the whole affair. I have referred to the statement published by Francis Brown, for the purpose of saying that it contains all the material facts relating to the occurance, excepting so far as the actual collision is concerned. The rifle with which Rowland Kightlinger was killed was purchased by my uncle, Wm. C. Turner, of the bartender at Ridgeway’s, on the morning of the tragedy. Mr. Titus Ridgeway was present at the time, and my uncle consulted him in regard to the rifle for the purpose of ascertaining what it was worth. Finally, my uncle traded a watch for the rifle and we both rode with Frank Brown to the city. We stopped at Bucklin’s as Brown states, and all took a drink, and my uncle left the rifle at the bar, intending to call for it on his return.

On reaching Brawley’s we stopped for a few moments, and there saw Rowland and John Kightlinger. Rowland spoke to me and I replied pleasantly; there were no harsh words between us. In the afternoon I started back from the city with my uncle and my brother William, who had come to town with Firsher’s team. On reaching Bucklin’s we found Frank Brown and asked if I could ride home with him, as he lived near Green’s, where I have been at work. My uncle took the rifle from the bar and put it in the Fisher wagon, and I drove on with Brown and Dr. Gage, leaving my uncle and brother with the Fisher team at Bucklin’s. When we reached Connelly’s farm we were overtaken by John and Rowland Kightlinger, who were driving their own team. The called upon Brown to stop, which he did. Both the Kightlingers then jumped out of their wagon and started for me. Rowland tried to jump into the wagon, but I kept him out. He seized me by the coat and tore it off, and then tore off my vest. I then struck him once or twice and knocked him back into the road. Brown then drove on, and after going a few rods I got out and started back for my clothes, going into the field to avoid meeting the Kightlingers. I found my coat, vest and cap scattered about the road, and just then my uncle and brother drove up, and I got into their wagon.

My uncle had the rifle. I had previously agreed to buy it of him, and he consented to let me take it home. We drove on to Hydetown, and saw the Kightlingers in Ridgeway’s tavern. We drove on to Fulmer’s bridge, where we saw Frank Brown in the road looking for his team. He said that Gage had driven off with it, and insisted on my going to help find it. I got out and started with him, taking the rifle with me. We found the team at Sink’s, and Dr. Gage in the bar-room. There we took a drink apiece, for which I paid, and Brown bought a glass of whisky to pour on his horse’s foot, which was corked. Then we started for home. On reaching the trees below Fulmer’s bridge, we saw three teams at the side of the road, and several men standing. Rowland Kightlinger asked if that was Frank Brown, and called on him to stop. He then asked if George Turner was in the wagon. Brown stopped the wagon and was immediately assaulted by Rowland Kightlinger.

The next thing I knew, Rowland and John Kightlinger attacked me in the wagon; John was urging Rowland on, telling him to pull me out and lick me. Rowland jumped on the wheel and I repulsed him with the rifle. He then called for a pistol to shoot me, and attempted to get into the wagon. I had the rifle in my hand; he seized it by the end of the barrel. I held it by the barrel and stock, the lock being under my right arm. We struggle for the posession of it, and in that way, I suppose, the cock was pulled back by catching my shirt sleeve in my armpit. Then the rifle was unexpectedly discharged. At the same moment I receive a blow on the neck from John Kightlinger with the butt of a heavy whil. It is proper to say that the lock of the rifle was so arranged that it would not [stay cocked' unless the trigger was set. Hence the accidental discharge.

I have very little to add. I went to Meadville and surrendered myself to the Sheriff, and was released on my own recognizance. I have since been visiting among my friends, holding myself in readiness to answer the charges against me whenever called upon by the authorities. I hear that threats have been made against me by some of the Kightlingers, and hence have considered it prudent to keep out of their way.

I go to Meadvilee on Monday next with Chief of Police Rouse, to await the finding of the Grand Jury, and feel very confident that I shall be promptly acquitted of the charges upon which I have been arrested.

Respectfully yours,

GEORGE TURNER

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Dec 19, 1870

Court of Quarter Sessons
MEADVILLE, Jan. 4, 1871.
[excerpt]

TRIAL OF TURNER.

The next case put on trial was that of the Commonwealth vs. George Turner, indicted for the murder of A.Rowland Kightlinger at Hydetown on the night of December 3rd, 1870. As the calling of a jury for a murder trial differs from any other and is peculiar, we will briefly describe the modusoperandi. Each juryman is called into the jury box separately, and interrogated as to his conscientious scruples regarding the death penalty. First, however, the prisoner is arraigned by the District Attorney reading to him the indictment, and asking if he is guilty or not guilty. Upon his reply “not guilty,” he is asked how he wishes to be tried. He replies, “By God and my country.” Then a juryman is called, and the Clerk say to him:

“Juror: Look upon the prisoner. Prisoner look upon the juror.” The clerk then say to the counsel, “Challenge or no challenge.” The District Attorney then asks the juror the following questions:

Are you related to the prisoner?

Have you any conscientious scruples, such as would prevent you from giving a verdict of guilty where the sentence of death would follow?

Have you formed and expressed and opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the prisoner?

If the juryman answers these questions negatively the prosecution may waive a challenge or may challenge peremtorily, and the juryman withdraws, or they may accept him and he is then sworn in by the Clerk of the Court.

After calling thirty jurymen, a jury of twelve was drawn as follows: E.J. Dailey, W.D. Johnson, William Mumford, John Hood, Charles Saeger, Thomas Clements, S. Boyd Espy, James Scowden,? William McCormick, R.H. Sturtevant, Sebastian Cahappotin, K. McArthur.

The District Attorney, J.W. Smith, Esq., then stated the case to the jury, and recited to them what the Commonwealth expected to be able to prove. The District Attorney is assisted by F.B. Gurthie and Pearson Church, Esqs., and the case is defended by A.B. Richmond, A.O. Barry, W.C. Johns, W.R. Bole, and others.

The trial will proceed immediately.

Yours, H_______.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Jan 6, 1871

The Kightlinger Homicide.

ACQUITTAL OF GEORGE TURNER AND FRANCIS BROWN.

The trial of George Turner and Francis Brown, indicted for the willful murder of Rowland Kightlinger at Hydetown, on the evening of the third of December last, was commenced at the Court of Oyer and Terminer at Meadville on Wednesday, and concluded on Friday evening. The incidents of this homicide, occurring so near this city, and involving parties well known in this section, are familiar in the recollection of our readers, as they have been presented in all their phases in these columns from time to time. The attendance at the Court House, during the progress of the trial was very large. We present in another column an abstract of the material testimony on both sides, accompanied with the theory of the prosecution and defense. The jury, it will be seen, returned a verdict of acquittal of both Turner and Brown, after a brief consultation, a result clearly justified by the evidence, and required by the law.

Great credit is due to the indefatigable and learned counsel for the defense, Messrs. Barry and Johns, of this city, for the preparation of the case for the defense, and the skillful conduct of the trial.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Jan 6, 1871

The Burning of Petroleum Centre aka “Sodom and Gomorrah”

Petroleum Centre - Washington St. - 1868 (Image from http://www.petroleumhistory.org)

Destructive Fire at Petroleum Centre — The Upper Half of the Town in Ashes.

Shortly before midnight Thursday night, the citizens of Petroleum Centre were startled by the cry of fire, and upon going to the stree, flames were seen upon the north side of Washington street, in the vicinity of the Buffalo House, an hotel building, but unoccupied. A pretty stiff breeze was blowing, and before the fire engines, or even many citizens had assembled, the Buffalo House (which was the place at which the conflagration originated) was one sheet of flame, which was swiftly and surely creeping towards the upper end of the town. Those who supposed the fire would be confined to the locality where it started, were soon undeceived, for the wind, which was varying, suddenly changed, and in a few moments the buildings upon the opposite side of the street were in flames, which spread rapidly in a westerly direction.

It then became apparent that nearly the entire western portion of the town would be destroyed, though fortunately the progress of the devouring element was stayed near the place of starting by the efforts of the citizens, who tore down one building, and by hard work prevented any further destruction down the street, or towards the more densely populated portion of the town.

The scene that ensued during the three hours was fearful and baffles description, and though this was the fourth time that the same locality has been burned over, those who have witnessed the previous destruction of property in this vicinity, say that never before was there so little property saved, nor so complete a sweep of everything that would burn, combined with desperate attempts to save at least something from the flames, as upon the present occasion.

The buildings which were of wood, were nearly all old, and of a highly combustible nature and it was but a few moments after the flames had caught before the entire structure was a blaze of flame, from which it was impossible to save anything. Furniture and property of every description was brought out into the street only to be shortly after consumed by the flames from which it was a moment saved.

Several of the buildings were occupied as concert saloons or brothels, and the “soiled doves” were seen fluttering about in the lurid light of the flames, in [dishabille] or resembling Wilke Collins’ “Woman in White,” though their only anxiety seemed to be to save their wardrobes and trunks which was through the kindness of acquaintances generally effected.

The American hotel which stands near the western end of Washington street, )and which has twice before narrowly escaped destruction), was fortunately saved by the aid of wet blankets, and the wind which at this juncture shifted sufficiently to carry the flame across the street and in an opposite direction, and shortly afterwards the fire was arrested near the upper end of town and near Second street.

The following list comprises the names of property owners and the loss, together with insurance, so far as could be ascertained:

W.B. Davis, Petroleum Centre House and furniture, loss $3,500; no insurance.
E.W. Bailey, building, loss $500.
J.W. Thompson, building, loss $1,400; insured for $600.
H.C. Machter, building and stock of groceries, loss $4,100; insured for $2,000.
Delia Yorrick, building and groceries, loss $1,000.
G.R. Kemp, building, loss $800.
Owen Gaffney, building and stock of liquor, loss $5,000; insured for $1,000.
Nellie Robinson, Queen City Hotel and [Maison de Joi(jot?), loss $1,800; no insurance.
J. & M. Barrett, building and liquors, loss unknown.
Sweeney & Collins, liquor store, loss unknown.
Ellen Donnegan, furniture store and pawnbroker's shop, loss $3,000; insured for $1,800.
M. Souble, building, loss $600.
George King, meat market, loss $1,600; insured for $600.
David Ham's building, loss $1500; insured for $1,000.
J.M. Schultz & Co., grocers, building and stock, loss $1,400; insured for $300.
Michael McGee, building and fish market, loss $900.
John Glenn, building and shoe shop, loss $700.
Wm. Lee, building and news room, loss $400.
Mrs. T. Maloney, building, loss $1,000; insured for $500.
Johanna Collins, building, loss $400.
F.W. Barker & Co., stock of groceries, loss $1,700.
Mary Beck, building, loss $300.
W.H. Casey, building, loss $450.
Eliza Jane Riel, building, loss $500.
Mary A. Sargent, building, loss unknown.
Adam Fisher, building, loss $250.
Lizzie Brown, building, loss $300.
Ellen Donnegan, building, loss $400.
E.P. Sweeney, building, loss $600.
L.M. Sternberg, building, loss $1,200.
John Freel, building, loss $600.
Mary M. Smith, two buildings and saloon, loss $1,000.
Michael Freel, building and grocery, loss $500.
W.J. Bennett, building and stock of groceries, loss $900.
Ellen Donnegan, building, loss unknown. [did she have two, or is this a repeat?]
J.F. Hanna, machine shop, loss $4,000; no insurance.
John Ulmer, building, loss $700.
John Marvin, tenant, loss $700 on furniture.
L.A. Davis, building and billiard rooms, loss $1,000; insured for $300.
L.A. Hughes, building and billiard parlors, loss $2,500; insured for $1,200.
H.B. Aldrick, Buffalo House, not occupied.
Louis Riel, bowling alley, loss, $400.
Benj. Sabins, concert hall, loss $900.
E.W. Bailey, building, loss $400.
James Rutherford, hardware store, loss $9,000; insured for $3,000 in Williamsport and Cumberland Valley Companies.
Deckert & Evans, bulding torn down.

In addition to the above list of several small buildings and barn were also destroyed, making a total of about sixty buildings, including one that was pulled down to prevent the spread of the flames. There was comparatively little insurance upon the property destroyed, as will be seen by reference of the value of the property destroyed is $65,000.

SCENES AND INCIDENTS.

Never before in the history of all the towns in the oil region that have suffered at times from the fire fiend, was there so complete destruction as that which marked this last burning. An eye witness says that, when the fire was at its height, the scene was terrible, yet interesting; the roar of the flames, the showers of sparks, the crowd of people trying to save property, the “scarlet women” and their followers dusting out, made, altogether, a scene worthy of Dore’s pencil.

Many of the buildings that were saved were covered with mud, which is about the only good use this peculiar product has ever been put to in the oil region.

The morning after the fire the upper end of Washington street presented a gloomy and desolate appearance, a space of several acres in extent, being covered with burnt and smoking ruins, with charred timbers protruding at short distances, like blackened tombstones. The stoves in most of the buildings were but little injured by the fire, and were seen in every direction upright and apparently ready for use. A safe in Owen Graffney’s liquor store was found in the cellar the following morning and opened but the contents, including seven hundred dollars in greenbacks, was badly burned, though the money has been sent to Washington, where perhaps under the skillful manipulation of the “Government money members” it may yet be made redeemable.

There was a general rush from Titusville yesterday, to the Centre to view the scene of the fire, and upon the return of the four o’clock train one-hundred and  twenty tickets were taken up from the Centre alone, to points up the creek. The fire originated in the Buffalo House, which as previously stated, was unoccupied. It is supposed to have been the work of incendiaries, and strenuous efforts are being made to ferret out the guilty parties. Had the wind been in an opposite direction the best and most densely populated portions of the city would have been destroyed, as it is, however, with a few exceptions, the part “scorched” was of little benefit to the town.

We are indebted to the editors of The Daily Record, and Mr. McWalters of the Central Petroleum company for many facts and figures relating to the fire and losses.

TITUSVILLE MORNING HERALD (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Mar 11, 1871

Image from http://www.legendsofamerica.com

MR. C.M. MORSE, of Oil City, writes us an explanatory letter concerning his report that characterized Petroleum Centre as “Sodom and Gomorrah,” and conveyed the intimation that the inhabitants of that borough had been visited by a fire-fiend as a penalty for their transgressing.

The article was published in the leading editorial column of the other paper, but in the next issue the editor repudiated all responsibility for the libel on “the good people of Petroleum Centre,” and declared that the account was “sent to the office by a private hand, and at so late an hour as to preclude corrections. Mr. Morse asserts that he handed his manuscript to a reporter of the paper, with particular instructions to have it carefully revised (as it had been written hurriedly) and corrected.

This the reporter promised to see to, and fulfilled his pledge, for the article appeared the next morning with various alterations, but still retaining the obnoxious paragraph. Mr. Morse resents the attack upon himself as a very unworthy attempt of the editor to shift the responsibility from his own shoulders by unjustly throwing it upon the reporter. The communication was received at too late an hour for publication, but we have given the material points as a matter of justice to the young gentleman, who has no other medium for his vindication.

TITUSVILLE MORNING HERALD, (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Mar 15, 1871

*****

Here is an interesting link referencing the seedier parts of the Pennsylvania oil region from Petroleum History.org.

Murderess Laura D. Fair

Tahoe House - Virginia City, Nevada

The jury in the case of Laura D. Fair, murderer of A.P. Crittenden, remained out forty minutes, when a verdict of murder in the first degree was rendered. The prisoner appeared somewhat paler than usual when taken from the court room, otherwise she was unmoved. It may not be improper to say now of this verdict that until within last week no one generally believed it possible, as nearly everybody was expecting the trial to prove a perfect farce, ending in the acquittal of the prisoner, or a disagreement of the jury. Nine-tenths of the community regard the verdict as a just and proper vindication of the law, and a rebuke of the doctrines put forth in the defense.

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Apr 27, 1871

The testimony of Mrs. Crittenden in the trial of Laura Fair deserves to be particularly pondered by the advocates of easy divorces. Mrs. Crittenden appears in it, as she does throughout all the testimony which refers to her in the case, as a noble and self-sacrificing woman, whose whole desire was to do her duty by her husband and her children. The natural impulse of a scorned woman for revenge she had gained a complete and admirable victory over. It was not, as she testifies, and as the whole history of the case shows, for herself, but for her children, that she pleaded with the woman Fair; and she declared that even if her husband abandoned her she would not put upon them the stigma of a divorce. IF she had chosen to take the course which the law in all States opened to her, or if Crittenden had been able to avail himself of the “incompatibility” which the law in some States allows as a cause for divorce, there is no doubt that he would have foresaken his wife for a woman in every way immeasurably inferior to her. The contrast between the modest and broken hearted lady and the brazen adventuress who succeeded in supplanting her was pointed upon the trial by the insolent interruption with which a prostitute and a murderess marked her hatred of a true and virtuous woman. In the state of things which easy divorce would bring about, the infatuation of Crittenden was so great that the woman who is the refuse of the earth would have won a complete and legal triumph over one of the women who are the salt of it. The woman who is now a widow would have been worse than a widow, and the children who are now fatherless would have been worse than orphans. It is in behalf of women like Mrs. Crittenden, and in despite of women like Mrs. Fair, that the divorce laws are kept stringent. Choose ye. — N.Y. World.

We have but little in common with those journalistic ghouls who have made the debasing details of this trial the daily dessert of their literary meal.

The facts are that Mr. Crittenden was a gentleman, high-toned, honorable and noble; wise in the great affairs of life; foolish as a child in all that concerned a woman. The world has many such men, who are among its greatest and best. They live, die, and are followed to the grave by weeping multitudes, because Providence preserves them from the wiles of wicked and fascinating women. That Mr. Crittenden was such a man, his long life of honorable usefulness, his many years of faithful fidelity to the love of his youth, abundantly proves. That Mrs. Fair was and is an incarnate fiend, all-powerful for evil, and constantly accomplishing it, her life of untiring mischief plainly demonstrates. She ruined Mr. Crittenden just as she would have ruined the judge and the jury that tried and convicted her, and just as she will probably ruin the counsel that defended her should she escape the gallows she so richly deserves. In the hands of a beautiful and wicked woman, men are children, and foolish in proportion as they are noble and generous.

Had Mr. Crittenden been a stolid, money loving, unintellectual, gross debauchee he would have laughed at her charms and thrown off her fascinations with the wine that he quaffed. The white wings of a dove are easily soiled, while smut does no harm on the black plumes of a foul raven.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Apr 30, 1871

Mrs. LAURA D. FAIR, for murdering Mr. Crittenden, will be hanged at San Francisco, on the 28th of July.

The Portsmouth Times (Portsmouth, Ohio) Jun 10, 1871

Laura D. Fair.

The fate of this beautiful murderess is yet in the balance, and if the Supreme Court of California does not grant her a new trial, she will as certainly be hung as that her hair is blonde, and her voice winning and musical. It is a sad thing at all times to hang a beautiful woman. Beauty is nature’s protest against the rigorous letter of the law, and the executioner who destroys it, or the judge ________ such destruction obligatory, violates that which is too rare to be banished from the midst of men. In Mexico there grows a tree, called the mara mujere? or bad Woman. It is always in the tropics and bears one crimson blossom., symbolizing a drop of human blood. It is hot overhead, the undergrowth is a wilderness, birds of beautiful plumage dart in and out among the vines, created by the ____, the traveler in one _____ moment lays hand on the Red Woman. [A thousand ______ _____ than ??????? unreadable sentence.]the hand is poisoned, dreadful pain follows, and afterward paralysis and death. If he had not touched the tree, however, the songs of the birds would still be sweet for

Daily Democrat (Sedalia, Missouri) Dec 20, 1871

The report of the death in prison at San Francisco of Mrs. Laura D. Fair, which was said to have occurred on the 30th ult, was a mistake. A San Francisco dispatch of the 5th says, “Mrs. Laura D. Fair is in excellent health and confident that she will never be hanged. Elisha Cook, her principal counsel, died the last hour of the year.

Edwardsville Intelligencer (Edwardsville, Illinois) Jan 18, 1872

*****

Some Gallows Humor:

Laura D. Fair, who was put in prison at San Francisco, California, under sentence of death, for the murder of Crittenden, is dead. She was a remarkable woman. — Brenham Times.

Remarkable, indeed, since at present she is alive and well, and snugly immured in San Francisco jail.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Feb 7, 1872

*****

It is insinuated by San Francisco journals that Mrs. Laura D. Fair cannot, in accordance with law, be hung for several months to come because of an impending event.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Jan 31, 1872

THE WOMAN IN BLACK.
The Second Trial of Laura D. Fair — How She Looks in Court.

After months of delay, the second trial of Laura D. Fair, for the murder of A.P. Crittenden, began yesterday in the Fifteenth district court, Judge T.B. Reardon presiding. As is usual whenever this case is called, an immense crowd was gathered in the court-room, which shows that public interest in the result is in no wise abated.

Mrs. Fair entered the court-room at 10 o’clock, under escort of a deputy sheriff, and took a seat by her counsel N. Greene Curtis and Judge Quaint, by both of whom she was cordially greeted. As she came in, the crowd made a passage way through which she walked with a firm step.

She was dressed, as usual, in deep black — black silk dress, black hat and veil, and black gloves. Everything was black except her face, which was as white as Parian marble. Her golden curls trailed down through the folds of her sombre veil, and seemed like rays of sunlight streaming through a blackened cloud. She seated herself at the lawyer’s table, and resting her head on her hand, seemed lost in sad, sad reverie. In the opening proceedings she took no interest whatever. She sat with her eyes on the floor, and only lifted them when her counsel turned to her to make some remark. Her veil was kept down closely over her face, and her features were almost entirely hidden from the eager, curious gaze of the crowd. Later in the day, when the names of the jurors were called, she manifested a slight degree of interest, but when, one after another, they entertained opinions, she seemed to gather from the circumstance a knowledge of how little sympathy there was in the cold, hard faces about her. For a while she listened, but soon sank back in her chair, evidently disheartened and depressed. Once she smiled, when listening to the questioning of an idiot who was on the stand under examination as to his qualifications to sit on the jury, but it was a sickly mournful smile and passed away as quickly as it came.

Sitting apart from the prominent actress in the scene was another older lady. She too, was attired in black and looked sad and sorrowful. This was the mother of Mrs. Fair. She had come into the court before Mrs. Fair, but when the latter entered she did not notice her. Neither spoke to the other, and both sat apart and alone. In the afternoon Mrs. Lane again entered the court, but Judge Quint went up to her and whispered something, after which she left and was seen no more. After this Mrs. Fair was left entirely alone with her counsel. — San Francisco Chronicle.

Daily Democrat (Sedalia, Missouri) Sep 23, 1872

ACQUITTAL OF LAURA FAIR.

The acquittal of Mrs. Laura D. Fair makes good the boast that in California no woman had been or ever would be executed for murder. The killing of Crittenden was not a disputed fact. It was not brought home to her on the strength of circumstantial evidence. IT was admitted. Infuriated by the sight of the wife of her paramour and the kiss with which the unfaithful husband welcomed her return to the Pacific Coast, Mrs. Fair drew a pistol, which apparently she had deliberately provided for the purpose, and shot him dead. The verdict of the jury which first found her guilty of murder was approved by every intelligent reader of the testimony. If murder ever stained the annals of human history, then Mrs. Fair was guilty of it. Her acquittal rests, if it has any basis beyond the sympathy of the jurors for a woman upon the plea of temporary insanity — a plea which may be resorted to in almost any case of killing, and in California with manifest success.

Mrs. Fair goes unhung for her crime, but she will not go unpunished. In all civilized society where she may appear hereafter, she will be avoided as one whose hand is stained with the same stain which reddened the hand of Lady Macbeth. If the legal penalty of her crime is not exacted, the moral law will be avenged upon her in such a way that she will be likely to regret her release from the walls of a friendly prison, and wish for death as a release from the scorn and contempt of mankind. — Cincinnati COMMERCIAL.

The Coshocton Democrat (Coshocton, Ohio) Oct 8, 1872

More “Humor” From the Press:

Laura Fair, just acquitted of the murder of Colonel Crittenden in California is called the “pretty bully in bombazine” by a Western paper. The “pretty bullet” would come nearer the mark.

Bangor Daily Whig and Courier (Bangor, Maine) Oct 9, 1872

*****

The St. Louis Democrat says that Laura D. Fair, who shot Mr. Crittenden, has made “a quarter of a million in Yellow Jacket,” and thinks that now “she had better kill somebody else — say a brutal witness who inhumanly witnessed the shooting.”

Titusville Morning Herald (Titusville, Pennsylvania) Oct 18, 1872

*****

HAVING escaped the gallows, Miss Laura D. Fair is now making a determined effort to save her money, and has repudiated Judge Quint’s little bill of $8,075 for legal services.

The Portsmouth Times (Portsmouth, Ohio) Nov 9, 1872

Image from http://www.all-about-agatha-christie.com

The following telegram tells why the notorious Laura D. Fair failed to fulfill her first lecture appointment in the Golden City:

“At the hour that Mrs. Fair was t o appear and lecture upon ‘Wolves in the Fold,’ about 2,000 people congregated in front of Platt’s Hall, on Montgomery street, and as many before her residence on Kearney street. The crowds at both places were boisterous and threatening.

At 8 o’clock Mrs. Fair demanded of the Chief of Police an escort of officers to the lecture hall. The Chief advised her that it was dangerous for her to appear on the street or at the hall, and would not furnish an escort, but sent men to keep the streets clear and preserve the peace.

The carriage came for Mrs. Fair, but she kept close in her room with a dozen friends. The crowd hooted and yelled, and men tried to force their way up the stairs, but were driven back. In about tow hours but few remained and all was quiet.”

The question of calling a convention to form a State Constitution for Washington Territory has been voted down ….. A tremendous sensation has been caused in San Francisco by the publication of the particulars of an alleged plot by Laura D. Fair and a restaurant waiter named Frank to poison Judge Dwinelle and the counsel for the people, Alex. Campbell. The plot was formed before the second trial, and was revealed by Frank. He said that Mrs. Fair tried to induce him to put poison in a decanter at Dwinelle’s house or a milk can at the door. A plan of Judge Dwinelle’s house was found in the possession of Frank.

The Dixon Telegraph (Dixon, Illinois) Dec 4, 1872

*****

Laura Fair cocktails, recently sold in San Francisco saloons, have been discontinued since the rumored attempt of that lady to poison Judge Dwinelle.

New York Herald (New York, New York) Dec 4, 1872

*****

THE notorious Laura D. Fair has had J. Thistleton arrested in San Francisco for caricaturing her during her late trial for murder.

The Portsmouth Times (Portsmouth, Ohio) Jan 11, 1873

*****

Laura D. Fair lectured, on Wednesday night at Hamilton Hall, Sacramento, Cal., upon “Wolves in the Fold.” She was exceedingly bitter upon the San Francisco Press, clergy, attorneys, and the jury which first tried her.

The New York Times (New York, New York) Jan 31, 1873

*****

The shot with which Laura Fair killed Crittenden almost as suddenly turned white the hair of a daughter of the deceased, it is said. The young lady, who is but twenty years old is described as beautiful and intelligent, but overcast with a cloud of melancholy that will embitter her future life. Being asked recently by an intrepid interviewer how came her hair so white and she so young, she answered “sorrow,” and immediately left the room.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Apr 2, 1873

It is reported that Laura D. Fair has married a lawyer in San Francisco.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Dec 28, 1873

More Gallows Humor From the Press:

AN exchange says that Laura Fair is said to make a model housekeeper, and her husband is one of the happiest men in California. This is the best argument we have yet seen against hanging. A reprieved murderess and so on makes the best wife. Still, it looks as though Laura’s fortieth husband may be a man not hard to please.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Apr 9, 1874

*****

Laura Fair visited Cincinnati in cog. last week. She was detected by a hotel clerk, who observed a name on a pistol which she was examining to see if the charges were all right. The hotel charges?

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Apr 29, 1874

*****

Laura Fair has gone to Japan to shoot the Mikado.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Jul 14, 1874

*****

Laura D. Fair, San Francisco murderess, was spared the gallows that she might appear in a police court as the victimized purchaser of 6,666 shares of a silver mine which couldn’t boast a bonansa.

Bismarck Daily Tribune (Bismarck, North Dakota) Feb 24, 1875

*****

Laura Fair, in a card, denies that she advised Mrs. Loomis, another terrible woman of San Francisco, to shoot Col. Barnes.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Jun 18, 1875

Laura D. Fair was before the Probate Court at San Francisco, the other day, to get an order authorizing the sale of some real estate standing in the name of her little daughter. She got it.

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Aug 5, 1875

The Press Just Isn’t Going To Let it Die:

“Laura Fair,” says The Detroit Free Press,” has settled down into a quiet, peaceful body, who wouldn’t step on a cat’s tail if she could just as well not. She says she wouldn’t shoot another man for thirty dollars.”

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Mar 11, 1876

Laura D. Fair has invented a baby carriage and sold the patent to an eastern firm for $14,000.

Reno Weekly Gazette (Reno, Nevada) Jun 26, 1879

*****

Laura D. Fair has written a lecture entitled “Chips from California,” the initial delivery of which will be at Chickering Hall New York to-night. The lecture is understood to contain much that is dramatic of the unmasked and practical side of life as seen in the Golden State. It is said to also treat of public men, politics, notable women, of the requisites to the inner circles of the California elite, at the operators on “the street,” of Henry Ward Beecher’s visit to California, and something about the Chinese, the Bonanza Kings, and the domestic virtues of California hospitality.

Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) Sep 23, 1879

Miss Hollis at Auditorium.

The Lorraine Hollis company produced Dumas’ great masterpiece, “La Dame aux Camellias” at the Auditorium Saturday evening to a large and critical audience. It is enough to say that no one in the house was in the least dissatisfied with the work of Miss Hollis in the leading role and of Orme Caldara as Armand Duval, they having to respond to a curtain call.

Miss Hollis’ work is equal t that of Lillian Lewis in her palmiest days in the role of Camille. The scene between Camille and Armand’s father, in which the latter besecaes? her to abandon Armand for his honor’s sake, is especially well done, and not a criticism could be offered on Miss Hollis’ work in this exceedingly difficult part. The end of Camille’s life of sacrifice, her reconcilation with Armand, and her death in his arms, surrounded by a few friends who have remained true to her, is exquisitely pathetic, and the fine touches of art which Miss Hollis bestows on her work in this scene may well be mistaken for reality. Miss Hollis is a clever actress, a charming woman, and undoubtedly has a great future before her.

Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Jan 15, 1900

FAMOUS BEAUTY FOUND DEAD IN ROOM
Death of Actress Recalls Old Crittenden Murder of Years Ago.

NEW YORK, Feb. 7. — Many actors and actresses stood with bowed heads on the sidewalk in front of an Eighth avenue undertaking establishment yesterday as the coffin containing the body of Lillian Lorraine Hollis, known as “the child of tragedy,” was borne out to the hearse which conveyed it to a crematory.

“Here ends the career of a girl whom California proclaimed twenty-two years ago as its most beautiful product,” soliloquized Albert Curtis, an old-time stock company actor. “In a voting contest conducted by several California newspapers in 1892 Miss Hollis was proclaimed the prettiest woman on the Pacific coast.”

When her body was found in a little furnished room at 223 West Forty-ninth street it seemed drawn and sallow. The beauty of twenty years ago had faded. A score of cats were slinking about the room. Among them was Charley, known to every theater almost throughout the United States, because Miss Hollis always insisted on this big, ugly cat accompanying her.

How long Miss Hollis had been dead is not known. She was ill last Friday, the last time a friend had called upon her. The physician said it was inanimation and lack of nourishment. Others used the plain word starvation.

The mother of Lillian Lorraine Hollis was Laura D. Fair, and she was known forty years ago as one of the most beautiful women in San Francisco. On November 3, 1870, soon after the birth of the woman who was cremated yesterday, Laura Fair followed Judge A.P. Crittenden on board a ferry boat going from San Francisco to Oakland, where he was to meet his wife, returning from the East, and shot and killed him.

Laura Fair, famed for her beauty, had left a baby in her rooms, and just as Judge Crittenden was stepping from the boat to meet his wife she demanded that he abandon his wife and live with her and acknowledge the parentage of the girl who died alone in privation here a few days ago. He spurned her, and, in proof that “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” she killed him.

After a sensational trial, in which many of hte early families of California were involved, Laura Fair was convicted of murder and sentenced to be hanged. She was the first woman to be so sentenced. Popular sentiment was aroused and Laura Fair had another trial and was acquitted.

Returning to her baby, she established a little home and supported herself by singing in the mining camp dance halls. Growing up in this environment, the daughter became an actress at an early age, and for the last twenty-five years she has been with many companies. Her greatest affluence was attained when she owned a company of her own, but this soon failed. Her last marriage is said to have been to a man named Andrew Hines.

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Feb 7, 1913

*****

Suicide Prompted by Death
Woman Seeks to End Life
Old Tragedy Now Recalled

SAN FRANCISCO, Feb. 8 — Mrs. Laura D. Snyder, mother of Lillian Lorraine Hollis, who recently died in poverty in New York, attempted to kill herself by cutting her throat at her home in Richmond today. Physicians said tonight she probably would recover.

Grieved over the death of her daughter, friends say, has affected Mrs. Snyder’s mind.

Mrs. Snyder, whose maiden name was Fair, figured more than 40 years ago in a famous criminal case. On a ferry boat en route from San Francisco to Oakland, she shot and killed Judge A.P. Crittenden, who the woman claimed was the father of her child, Lillian.

Laura Fair was sentenced to be hanged for the murder, but a new trial was granted her and she was acquitted. Afterwards she went into mining camps and made a living for herself and child.

The daughter became noted for her beauty and in 1892 won a newspaper voting contest as the most beautiful woman on the Pacific coast. She became an actress and went east.

The news of her death in destitute circumstances at New York was the first word Mrs. Snyder had received of her daughter in many years.

Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) Feb 9,  1913

Killed Judge Crittenden on Ferryboat in 1870 Because of Unwelcome Attentions

RICHMOND, Feb. 11. — Believing herself to be nearing the grave, but wishing first to clear the name of her dead daughter, Lillian Lorraine Hollis, the once famous actress, Lillian Fair, Mrs. L.D. Snyder of this city, who, in 1870 shot and killed Judge A.P. Crittenden on the ferryboat El Capitan, yesterday told the story of her own tragic career since the birth of her daughter, Lillian, in Siskiyou county in 1860.

Mrs. Snyder refutes the stories that have been current to the effect that her daughter, once known as one of the most beautiful women in the United States, died in a tenement house alone and in poverty.

HUSBAND FOUND DEAD.

Mrs. Snyder, who is 75 years old, was formerly Mrs. Laura D. Fair, wife of Colonel William D. Fair, a famous attorney of the early days of California and Nevada. Fair was found dead with a bullet in his brain in the offices of Dr. Murphy in San Francisco. The autopsy showed that two shots had been fired, one of which had killed Fair. The mystery as to whether or not Fair had committed suicide or was the victim of a pistol duel was never cleared.

In later years Mrs. Fair became engaged to Crittenden, but on learning that he was a married man, she married Snyder, and since 1906 has lived in Richmond.

The tragic events in her life have broken her heart and her health. When the news of her daughter’s death reached her she tried to kill herslef.

TIRED OF STRUGGLE.

“It is no use keeping up the struggle longer,” she said. “I am so weary of it all and there is nothing else now for me to live for. Lillian is gone, my Babie Fair. I am 75 and I can’t last very much longer anyhow.

“Who says she was alone, and poverty stricken? Who dares attack her legitimacy of birth? She was the daughter of my husband, Colonel William D. Fair, and was born in Yreka, Siskiyou county, in August, 1860.

STORY UNTRUE.

“She did not die alone, but was under the care of kind friends and the treatment of Dr. Thomas R. English, 65 Central Park West, New York. For a long time she had been ill with a complication of lung troubles and a weak heart, but despite that she has earned her own living by teaching music. She left the stage some years ago.”

Mrs. Leonora S. Smith, landlady of the flat occupied by Mrs. Hollis at 133 East Ninty-fourth street, writes to Mrs. Snyder under date of February 3, telling her of the affairs of her daughter. “And this letter from my Lillian herself will prove that those sensational reports sent out from the East are false,” said Mrs. Snyder, referring to the following letter from Miss Hollis:

SENDS LETTER.

New York, Jan. 26. ’13.
Dear Mamma: It may be possible for me to get pupils again soon, only I must first get more strength. You letter has caused me to make a renewed honest fight. I write in haste to keep my work and send love to Mamma mine. The children I have been teaching music will come to see me again before Easter.
Write soon please.
Mary Mother guard you.
Lovingly, BABIE FAIR.“

“I presume the only thing left for me to do is to review the whole terrible story,” said Mrs. Snyder. “My husband, Colonel Fair, died a year and half after Lillian was born, leaving me in excellent financial circumstances. I went to Virginia City, Nevada, where I bought a large rooming house and it was there when my daughter was four years old that I first met Crittenden.

TELLS OWN STORY.

“At that time Crittenden represented himself as a single man and when I left Virginia City he still paid me attentions, saying that his wife had died a number of years before. I believed him, but later I found out that it was not so.

“I married Snyder and Crittenden again pestered me with attentions. I had told Snyder before my marriage of the Crittenden incident and he said that if he should bother me after my marriage he would shoot him.

“Crittenden kept up his attentions and was even so bold as to enter my house. I feared that if my husband should see him there would be murder. Shortly afterward Crittenden sent me a note saying my husband was paying attention to another woman and offered to hire detectives to shadow my husband. He asked if I had any objection and I said no. One night the detective, McDougal, came to my house and told me that he was ready with evidence. Accompanied by two witnesses and the detective, I found my husband with another woman.

SUED FOR DIVORCE.

“I sued for divorce and was granted a decree in three weeks. After it was all over I learned that Snyder had been paid by Crittenden to aid in furnishing evidence by which I would be persuaded to sue for divorce. After the trial I accused Crittenden to his face of having been responsible and he neither denied nor admitted that my accusation was just.

“I told him then that if I ever met him again I would shoot him and I did. I was acquitted and many of my closest friends told me that I should have shot him a lot sooner. Immediately after the trial I took a flat at the corner of Gough and Hayes streets in San Francisco, where I lived until my daughter was 13 years of age.

DAUGHTER MARRIED.

“Between the ages of 18 and 19 she married Andrew W. Haynes.
“She had $10,000 at the time of her marriage in her own name. Her marriage was not a happy one, and after living with Haynes for about six years she secured a divorce. She was never married again.

“Afterward she went on the stage, playing at the old Alcazar Theater, and never going on the vaudeville stage. She later showed great ability in dramatic work, and went East, where she continued her dramatic work until 1902. Since then she had devoted her time to writing. She was the author of a number of plays, some of which she staged with success.

LOVED THE WEST.

“She enjoyed great success until the past few years, when she had been in ill heath. I have heard from her from time to time, and a year or so ago wrote to her that I would try to join her in New York. She replied that she would try to come to California, as she would rather live in the bricks and ashes of San Francisco than in a palace in New York.”

” I realize now that it will not be long before I will join her. I am a woman 75 years of age, and have not a great many years before me. It is for this reason that I desire to set the facts in the case aright.”

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Feb 11, 1913

DEATH RECALLS FERRY TRAGEDY

With the filing in San Francisco yesterday of a report of the public administrator, there was disclosed the fact that Laura A. Snyder, formerly Laura Fair, who figured in one of the historic sensations of California is dead. Also there was written probably the last chapter of a story, of an angered woman and the shooting at her hands of the man she contended had wronged her, Alexander Crittenden. The shooting took place in 1870, when Crittenden and his wife who had come from the east to join him, were crossing from Oakland to San Francisco on a ferry boat. Laura Fair also was on the boat for a purpose and that was to seek the life of Crittenden.

On her first trial she was convicted, but subsequently obtained a verdict in acquittal. Now it seems that for years she had been living in a little place at 2143 Market street, San Francisco, where on Monday she died of heart failure. She was 82 years old. Public Administrator Hynes found that she had left $1100 in the Bank of Italy, and that there are two heirs in Salt Lake.

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Oct 15, 1919

*****

THEY ARE FORGOTTEN

THE TRIAL of Public Defender Frank Egan in San Francisco and his associate, one Tinnin, a former penitentiary inmate, in which both were convicted of murder, is being spoken of in the bay cities as “historic,” but as an Oakland paper editorially remarks, “In a few days it will be forgotten.” This is quite likely, as other trials that attracted great attention at the time have long since passed from public memory.

One of the most famous criminal cases in the history of the coast was the killing of Alexander Crittenden, noted lawyer of Nevada and California and a graduate of West Point, by Laura D. Fair, widow of Sheriff Fair of Shasta county, California. In 1862 she conducted the Tahoe House in Virginia City. In November, 1870, when Crittenden was with his wife and children on board a ferry steamer, Mrs. Fair stepped up to him and suddenly shot him. He died two days later. She was convicted on her first trial but acquitted on her second on the ground of insanity. Owing to the prominence of the woman and Crittenden, it was literally years before the killing ceased to be a theme of conversation. Now few recall it.

Reno Evening Gazette (Reno, Nevada) Sep 9, 1932

*****

The Gentle Tamers on Google Books has a good summary of Laura D. Fair and the murder of Alexander Crittenden.

Another summary in History of California By Theodore Henry Hittell, also on Google Books.

Good Looking Men Are Too Great A Risk

Cotton Mill Workers (image from http://thepointofpittsburgh.vox.com)

The proprietor of a cotton factory put this notice on the gates: “No cigars or good looking men admitted.” In explanation he said, “The one will set a flame agoing among my cotton and the other among my girls. I won’t admit such dangerous things into my establishment. The risk is too great.”

The Atlanta Constitution (Atlanta, Georgia) Mar 10, 1871

The Point of Pittsburgh (where I found the picture) looks like a great blog, lots of interesting pictures and historical information.

Jacob Fournais “Old Pinau” Dies at 134 Years-Old

THE OLDEST INHABITANT.
Death of a Man 134 Years Old.
(From the Kansas City, (Mo.) Journal.)

On Saturday evening last the oldest man in the State, if not the oldest man anywhere, died in Kansas City.

His name was Jacob Fournais, but know to everybody who knew him at all, as “Old Peno,” (or Pinau). — Nobody knew his exact age, not even himself, but he was known as an old man when men now four-score were children.

He was a Canadian Frenchman by birth, but for more than half a century was a hunter and trapper in the employ of the Fur Company, one of the French voyageurs, as they were called — most of that time with Major Andrew Dripps, the father of Mr. Charles A. Dripps, and father-in-law of Mr. William Mulkey, at whose house he died, and where he has been kindly and affectionately treated for the last thirty years.

He was never sick and only a few minutes before he died was walking about the room. He said to the family in the morning, that he would “never see the sun go down again,” and just before sunset, the machine stopped — the old man was dead.

He said he was working in the woods on a piece of land he had bought for himself, near Quebec, when Wolfe was killed on the heights of Abraham. This was September 13, 1759, and from what he told of his life previous th that he must have been over 21 years of age.

Thinking he might have confounded Wolfe with Montgomery — 1775 — we questioned him very fully, but his recollection of names and incidents were too distinct to leave any doubt, and the same account had been given to others before we saw him.

Another event which he remembered well, and which he seemed to always look upon as a good joke, was that, during the occupation of New Orleans by General Jackson — 1814-15 — he had been refused enlistment, “because he was too old.” The old man often told this with great glee. He must then have been about 80 years old.

Thus, taking everything into consideration, and we have been careful ever since we knew him to get all the facts about him we could find — from Major Dripps, the Chouteau family, Jim Bridger, Tim Goodale, Bent, Jim Beckwith and other old mountaineers — we put his age at 134 years.

He went from Canada to where Pittsburgh now is, thence down the Ohio in keel-boats, and was in New Orleans, it seems, in 1814.

Before this, however, he accompanied the expedition of Lewis and Clark, in their explorations of the Missouri and the discovery of the Columbia river in 1804-7. His experience during that trip, making him a valuable man to the Fur Company, he was afterward employed as we have stated, until thirty years ago; being then worn out and too old for active service, he came here to spend the evening of his life with the family of the man he had so faithfully served for so many years.

The last thirty years of his life were passed in quiet and comfort. — He preferred living by himself, and always had his own house, where he kept his pipe and tobacco pouch and such things as were articles of comfort to him, mostly such as he had from his residence with the Indians, not forgetting his rosary and a few religious pictures which hung above his bed. He was very neat in his person, clothes, and housekeeping, and up to the day of his death attended in summer to his tobacco plants and his cabbages. One of his great desires was to see a railroad, and when the first locomotive came screaming into the bottom which was in full view of his home, he was nervous as a child until he visited it. –

The wife of Mr. Mulkey, who has been his constant attendant from her childhood, took him down one day to the depot, where he had an opportunity to examine it, and saw it move away with a heavy train attached. — He expressed himself as satisfied, said he “could tell God he had seen a railroad,” and has never since expressed any curiosity on the subject.

Kokomo Tribune (Kokomo, Indiana) Aug 1, 1871

More on Fur Traders and Trappers HERE.

In the book, Forty Years a Fur Trader, Andrew Dripps is mentioned on pages 416-417, in the chapter, “Sketches of Indian Agents.” The book can be found on Google Books, or click the link above.

Cow is a Noun

NOTHING LIKE GRAMMAR. — Nothing like grammar! Better go without a cow than go without that. There are numberless “professors” who go “tramp, tramp, tramp; my boys,” all around the country; peddling a weak article, by which, “in twenty days,” they guarantee to set a man thouroughly up in the English language. An instance in point comes from Greenville, Alabama, where a  “professor” had taught them to dote on grammar according to “Morris” system.

During on of the lectures, the sentence “Mary milks the cow,” was given out to be parsed. Each word had been parsed save one, which fell to Bob ____, a sixteen-year old, near the foot of the class, who commenced thus:

“Cow is a noun — Feminine gender, singular number, third person, and stands for Mary.“

“Stands for Mary!” said the excited professor, “How do you make that out?”

“Because,” answered the noble pupil, “if the cow didn’t stand for Mary how could Mary milk her?“

Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) Jul 15, 1871