Archive for January, 2010

The Old Graveyard: Frederick, Maryland

January 30, 2010


A Spot of Peculiar Historical Interest.

There is a great deal of historic interest attached to the old Presbyterian graveyard which has lately been purchased by the Salvation Army. In 1782 the first Presbyterian church ever built in this county was here erected. It was a very plain stucture of bricks, supposed to have been brought from England. It had a brick floor, high backed pews and a very lofty pulpit. The congregation was composed of Scotch settlers from Pennsylvania with a considerable German element; the first pastor was Rev. S.B. Balch, who was followed by Revs. David Baird and Cunningham Sample. Next came Rev. Samuel Knox from Ireland, a man of rare literary talents, who during his pastorate here was president of the Fred[er]ick Academy. He was the great grandfather of Rev. Wm. Ould, the present incumbent of the church. He was connected by marriage with the McCleery family of this city, who about two years ago removed the bodies of Mr. Knor [Knox?] and wife to Mt. Olivet cemetery. Rev. Patrick Davidson came next who was also president of the Frederick Academy, and it was during his pastorate that a new church was contemplated.

The present site was purchased about the year 1819, though the edifice was not commenced until 1825 and dedicated in 1827. To go back to the old churchyard with its fallen gravestones and sunken graves overrun with myrtle, we find that Rev. Mr. Davi[d]son was buried here in 1825. Among the sleeping dead were members of our prominent families whose sacred dust has just been carefully reinterred in Mt. Olivet. It has been told by an old resident, that Episcopalians and Presbyterians worshipped together in this old church, and their Sunday schools were united until the pastorate of Rev. Dr. Hamner.

Gov. Thomas Johnson (Image from

One of the most historical events celebrated in this antique church occurred February 22nd, 1800, when Thomas Johnson, first Governor of Maryland, delivered a funeral oration in memory of George Washington.

George Washington (Image from

Eight thousand persons were in attendance. It was one of those masterly orations which have been handed down to posterity. Gov. Johnson was a personal friend of Gen. Washington, and this oration was the last official act of his life. He said: “So strongly was Washington’s dear image imprinted on my memory, that I can now see the manly form and graceful attitude, his piercing blue eyes softened by modesty, innate sweetness and harmony of soul. Let us imitate his example, remember his patriotism, his courage on the field of battle and death, and like him to render up our swords to the country from which we receive them. We are professing Christians, let us live so that at death we may say like Washington, ‘I am not afraid to die.'”

The News (Frederick, Maryland) May 9, 1887

The Presbyterian Church image from: (Google Book LINK – limited preview) “Historical Sketch of the Presbyterian Church 1780-1910” starts on page 448

Title   History of Frederick County, Maryland, Volume 1
Authors    Thomas John Chew Williams, Folger McKinsey
Edition    reprint
Publisher Genealogical Publishing Com, 1979
ISBN    0806379731, 9780806379739
Length    1724 pages


More About Samuel Knox by Bernard C. Steiner in the Maryland Historical Magazine – vol.4; 1909 (Google Books LINK) pg. 276

Curious Names

January 29, 2010

Curious Names.


And article in a recent number of Hearth and Home quoted a number of the queer names found in the official registry of births in England and Wales. Perhaps it is not generally known that our own census returns furnish appellations quite as extraordinary.

Bildad Bishop 1870 Census CT

Witness such remarkable compounds as Nancy Yancey, Phoebe Beebe, Bildad Bishop, and others, which occur more frequently than might at first be supposed.

Phoebe Beebe 1870 Census NJ

The exploits of the valiant Preserved Fish, whose standard was a cod fish rampant, are chronicled in the Knickerbocker’s “History of New York.”

Preserved Fish 1870 Census NY

NOTE: Preserved’s father’s name is Served Fish!

Preserved Green 1880 Census RI

Less known to fame is Mr. Preserved Green, at the present time a resident of Rhode Island, whose development, to judge at least from his name, must have been checked at an early stage of his career.

NOTE: Preserved Green was a clergyman, according to the census record. His neighbor was German Potter, who also had a son named German. Living with Preserved Green was a Freeborn Potter (and wife and children,) who must have been a son-in-law or possibly just boarding with the Green family.

Waitstill Hastings 1880 Census NY

Some instances are found in which the first name and the last name are of contradictory meaning, as in the case of a New York gentleman whose parents christened him Waitstill Hastings, and that of the learned member of the Texas judiciary, Judge Pleasant Yell.

Pleasant Yell 1870 Census TX

In other cases there is a sort of humorous coincidence between the person’s name and his occupation — notably in that of a Connecticut butcher, whose sign displays the fierce inscription, I.B. Savage.

NOTE: I couldn’t find Mr. Savage on census records, although there was an Isaac Savage.

Consider Tinkler 1860 Census IN

The daily papers tell us that one Consider Tinkler, a Communist, has just been pardoned by President Thiers. It is hardly necessary to add that he was an American.

NOTE: I am not sure what is meant by “hardly necessary to add” and who it refers to, but Tinkler, “the communist” was born in Canada, according to census records.

Federal C. Adams 1880 Census OH

Nowhere else than in New England would parents be likely to bestow upon their children such Christian, or rather unchristian, names as Federal Constitution and Fourth of July.

Notice: Federal’s father was  a John Q. Adams! They must have been quite the patriotic family.

July 4th Woods 1880 Census PA

The recipient of the latter was a girl who, on growing up to years of discretion, wisely preferred to sign her name “Julie F.” We have heard too, of an unnatural parent who called his son Almighty Dollar, but this case is not so well authenticated.

Lots of males named Dollar, but I couldn’t find the Almighty Dollar. This one though, is pretty good:

Dollar Cash 1880 Census PA

NOTE: Mr. Cash lived in Standing Stone, PA, and he was a stone-cutter.

Dollar Quarter 1880 Census MA

NOTE: And Mr Peter Quarter has three sons,  oldest one is George (how boring) but then he got creative  with the younger ones:  Dollar and  Prosper.

The author of that interesting book, “Old Landmarks of Boston,” speaks of the singular juxtaposition of names in the ancient burying-ground at Copp’s Hill, and informs us that Mr. John Milk and Mr. William Beer repose there side by side, as also Samuel Mower and Theodocia Hay, Timothy Gay, and Daniel Graves, Elizabeth Toot and Thomas Scoot, Charity Brown, Elizabeth Scarlet and Margaret White, Ann Ruby and Emily Hone.

Google Books has it online: LINK (the above section is on pg 206)

Title  Old landmarks and historic personages of Boston
Author    Samuel Adams Drake
Edition    5
Publisher Roberts brothers, 1876

Our Puritan ancestors had an affection for Scriptural names, and allowed few to remain unused; and it might be inferred from such examples as Mahershalalhashbaz Dyer and Ananias Concklin that the stock was sometimes almost exhausted.

Usual Peach 1850 Census OH

Note: Usual didn’t seem to be all that “usual” of a name. I only found a few of them.

Exercise Still 1850 Census IL

This guy, evidently, can sit still and exercise.

Next to Scripture appellations, the names of virtues, abstract qualities, and the like, were most in use among the early inhabitants of New England; and boys, when baptised, were called by such names as Comfort, Consider, Difficulty, Exercise, Fathergone Joy, Justice Pardon, Praise God, Seaborn Wait, or Usual;

Mindwell Voter 1870 Census ME

This next one is too funny:

Pity Date 1870 Census LA

while upon the girls were bestowed such as Content, Deliverance, Desire, Experience, Mindwell, Makepeace, Pity, Peaceable, Rejoice, Relief, Remarkable, Submit, Silence, Thankful, Wealthy — most of them manifestly inappropriate to the young ladies of the present day. — Hearth and Home.

Submit Paine 1860 Census ME

Poor girl, I wonder how her husband treated her?

Silence Horn 1870 Census PA

An example of an oxymoron name.

Wealthy Savage 1870 Census CT

The wealthy Savage above, and below,  the love Savage:

Love Savage 1860 Census NY

Edwardsville Intelligencer (Edwardsville, Illinois) May 29,  1873

Insane Mother Cuts Throats of Her Children

January 25, 2010


Insane Mother Seeks to Burn Home to Cover Evidence of Awful Crime.

Cedar Rapids, Ia., March 31. — Suddenly becoming insane after a long illness, Mrs. John Lynch cut the throat of her five weeks old baby and her 3-year-old son this afternoon. Failing to catch the three elder children she then set fire to the house and cut her own throat.

The farm house is five miles from this city, and was burned to the ground. Later the three bodies were found in the ruins. The husband was in the city at the time of the tragedy.

The two oldest children, who escaped, state that they tried to prevent their mother from setting the house on fire, but that she beat them over the heads and shoulders with a stove poker until they were compelled to jump out of the window, and flee for their lives.

A third child had his throat cut, but is still living. It was rescued from the kitchen by a neighbor who saw the smoke.

The Carroll Herald – Apr. 7, 1909

Robert Burns: “John Anderson, My Jo”

January 25, 2010

From: The News (Frederick, Maryland) Mar 28, 1924

Intriguing comment [excerpt] left by Astri on a previous post about Robert Burns and Auld Lang Syne:

I just discovered at a local Robbie Burns party celebrating his birthday last night, here in western Canada, what I, for 3 or more decades, have loved and sung in Norwegian as an old Norwegian folk song. This is “Jon Anderson, Min Jo”.

Last night at the party, I discovered the English-language song called “John Anderson, my Joe” – to nearly the same tune (some of the ancient natural-scale tones common in the Norwegian folk music had been anglicized or ‘normalized’ according to english folk tunes) and with basically the same verses, in English.

I said to my friend driving home in the car, “I wonder if Burns heard this song and ‘lifted’ it for its beauty and lovely sentiment,” ~  maybe while travelling in Norway, or in a pub meeting Norwegian travellers (brought together by the prospect of beer, ever-alluring to both our peoples, from early days of mead-making and viking-travel, on doubt!)!

It would be interesting to find out when the Norwegians first started singing this song.  Might turn out to be one of those chicken/egg things, but I would be interested in finding out more. I tried searching the Norwegian title, and I only got 2 hits, neither of which gave any information.

This comment jogged my memory of a temperance poem I had previously posted, which turned out to be a parody of “John Anderson, My Jo.”  I decided to see what else I could dig up on this same poem, being it is Robert Burns’ birthday. Evidently, this poem was so popular, it was parodied quite a bit. Below is a sample of what I found:

From the Murder by Gaslight blog (link below)

Looking for a sausage vat picture for this first parody, I was surprised to find the above image actually took me to a blog  post about the murder referenced in the parody! Link: Louise Luetgert: The Sausage Vat Murder

Rather sick sense of humor, I think:


John Anderson, my Jo, John,
When you and I first met
We loved each other well, John;
But not, already yet;
We had a little spat, John,
Not many months ago,
And you boiled me in a sausage vat,
John Anderson, my Jo.

The Nebraska State Journal (Lincoln, Nebraska) Oct 21, 1897


John Anderson, my Jo John
When we again prepare
To kill the boar black pigs John,
That scent the perfumed air,
We’ll bribe our fellow men, John,
With cash before we go,
To haul them to the slaughter pen,
John Anderson, my Jo.

The Nebraska State Journal (Lincoln, Nebraska) Nov 22, 1897

I saw the great regatta go
A half a mile from land;
The sons of Eli tried to row
Their boat to beat the band.
The oars sank deep, the men perspired,
I heard them puff and blow —
Too slow the pace, they lost the race,
John Anderson, my jo.

The Nebraska State Journal (Lincoln, Nebraska) Jul 10, 1909


Now, for a couple of advertisements:

The Ohio Democrat ( New Philadelphia, Ohio) Oct 18, 1888


John Anderson, my Jo, John,
When last it was we met,
Our winter supply of Coal, John,
Hand not been purchased yet.
“It’s time you was skidooing, John,”
I hear all the wise people speak —
There should be something doing, John,
Then do it now — this week.

No.2 Chestnut . . . $5.75 the ton
UNION COAL CO. 119 Main St.

The Fitchburg Sentinel (Fitchburg, Massachusetts) Jun 25, 1906


A political parody:

John C. Calhoun (Image from


Tune – “John Anderson my Jo.”

John C. Calhoun my Jo John, I’m sorry for your fate,
You’ve nullify’d the Tariff laws, you’ve nullify’d your State;
You’ve nullify’d your party, John, and principles, you know,
And now you’ve nullified yourself, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

Oh! John how could you look into the face of Henry Clay?
The glory of the Western World, and of the World away;
You call’d yourself his ‘master,’ John, but that can ne’er be so,
For he ‘would not own you for a slave,’ John C. Calhoun my Jo.

The Father of the Tariff, and patron of the Arts,
He seeks to build his country up in spite of foreign parts;
And Harrison will soon upset the little Van & Co.
And renovate the ship of State, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

John C. Calhoun my Jo John, ambition in despair
Once made you nullify the WHOLE, the HALF of it to share;
The ‘whole hog now you’ve gone,’ John, with Kendall, Blair & Co.’
But ‘you’ve got the wrong sow by the ear,’ John C. Calhoun my Jo.

American mechanics, John, will never sell their votes
For mint drops or for Treasury bills, or even British coats;
They want no English coaches, John, while servants they forego,
For their carriage is of Yankee stamp, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

Oh! John he is a slippery blade with whom you’ve got to deal,
He’ll pass between your clutches too, just like a living eel;
You think he’ll RECOMMEND you, John, but Van will ne’er do so,
For he wants the fishes for himself, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

John C. Calhoun my Jo John, if this you dare to doubt,
Go ask the LIVING SKELETON who deals his secrets out;
His favorites are marked, John, the mark you cannot toe,
And you’ll soon repent the bargain made, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

This is dirty business, John, go wash your little hands,
And never bow your knee again to cunning Van’s commands;
‘How are you off for soap,’ John, I cannot say I know,
But ‘your mother does not know you’re out’ John C. Calhoun my Jo.

The brave sons of the South, John, will never own you more,
And Benton’s Mint Drops will not save — you’re rotten to the core;
The people will no power, John, on such as you bestow,
And you’ve jump’d your final sumerset, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

Then better men, my Jo John our sad affairs will fix,
Republicans in principle, the Whigs of Seventy six;
The offices they’ll purge, John, Swartwouters all must go,
And Sycophantic fellows too, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

The farmer of North Bend, John, will plough the weeds away,
And the terror of Tecumseh then will gain another day;
America will flourish John, mechanics find employ,
And our merchants will rejoice indeed, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

John C. Calhoun my Jo John, when one term shall expire,
He’ll drop the reins of power and with dignity retire,
To look upon a smiling land, that he has rendered so,
And every Whig will cry AMEN, John C. Calhoun my Jo.

Poet’s Garret, Baltimore, January, 1840.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Mar 7,  1840

Francis Scott Key

This last one is not a parody, but rather interesting, if Francis Scott Key actually penned these additional verses:


A Pipe Creek Man Awakens a Reminiscence of Francis Scott Key.

A correspondent of the Washington Evening Star writes: In your issue of Saturday you publish an added verse to Burns’ “John Anderson, My Jo,” written by a lady from Georgia.

Mr. Francis S. Key, the author of the “Star Spangled Banner,” wrote two additional verses to Burns’ poem, and not remembering having seen them published, I send them to you.

Mr. Key writes:

“There ought to be another —

John Anderson my Jo, John,
From that sleep again we’ll wake,
When another day’s fair light
On our opened eyes shall break.
And we’ll rise in youth and beauty
To that bright land to go,
Where life and love shall last for aye,
John Anderson, my Jo


John Anderson, my Jo, John,
One day we’ll waken there,
Where a brighter morn than ever shone,
Our opened eyes shall cheer.
And in fresh youth and beauty
To that blest land we’ll go
Where we’ll live and love forever,
John Anderson, my Jo.”

Pipe Creek, October 13, 1842. B.

The News (Frederick, Maryland) May 21,  1885

Robert Cochran Barclay: Minnesota Pioneer

January 22, 2010

Robert Barclay, County Pioneer, Dies at Huron

Funeral Services to Be Conducted at Stockton Thursday.

Stockton, Minn. — (Special to The Republican Herald)– Funeral services for Robert Cochran Barclay, one of Winona county’s pioneers, who died May 24 at 8:30 p.m. at the home of his daughter, Mrs. W.H. Buck, Huron, S.D., will be conducted Thursday at 2:30 p.m. at the Stockton Methodist church. The Rev. R.J. Potter of the McKinley Methodist church, Winona, will officiate. Burial will be in the Stockton cemetery. The Veterans of Foreign Wars will have charge at the grave. The body is to arrive at Lewiston tomorrow.

Mr. Barclay who was 92 years old, had been ill since February 1. Death was due to the infirmities of age.

He was born at Clarion, near Pittsburgh, Pa., January 6, 1844, and was a member of one of the last of the old pioneer families of Winona county, having come to Minnesota territory in July 1854. Winona was then a small town located near where the steamboats landed. V. Simpson had a large warehouse and A.B. Smith a hotel where the Barclays stayed a few days while waiting for the ox teams to come for them.

Indian Village Near Elba.

There was quite a large settlement at Minnesota City at that time and also a large Indian village of more than 500 teepees at Elba where there were Winnebago Indians. There were no towns at Stockton, Lewiston, Utica or St. Charles. Mr. Barclay’s father, Arthur Barclay and his wife, Lilly Hineman Barclay, came to the United States from Raphoe county, Donegal, Ireland, in 1833. They worked in the coal mines near Pittsburgh for a few years and then came west by river, down the Ohio and up the Mississippi to Dubuque, Iowa. There Barclay left his wife and smaller children while he and his two older sons joined a party of men which included Robert Crooks, John Bole and Alec McCully, who had heard about Minnesota.

These men bought land at $1.25 an acre from the government and built their homes in Elba township. The Barclays built the first house in Elba township, and as the other men were not married they lived there until the spring planting was done. Mr. Barclay sent for his family at that time and they came in July, 1854, by steamboat and from Winona by oxen to Knopp’s Creek up Gilmore Valley where trees had been cut to let the teams through to the open prairie.

Recalled Big Catch.

Mr. Barclay often spoke of the groves of trees, large oak trees, flowers, birds and wild game. He often recalled catching three brook trout July 4, 1855, in the Whitewater which weighed nine pounds.

In there first years there, the nearest grist mill was at Decorah, Iowa, and they drove there with their first wheat to be ground into flour. There was a good road most of the way, the road going near the present site of Chatfield. There were eight children in the family, two girls and six boys. When the civil war started one son was in the United States army and two other sons enlisted. Then Robert ran away from home and enlisted. He was brought home twice by his father who finally consented and he joined the same company in which his brothers were enlisted.

Image from the back cover of Brackett’s Battalion: Minnesota Cavalry in the Civil War and Dakota War by Kurt Bergemann.

They were in the four companies of cavalry, known as Brackett’s battalion of the Minnesota Volunteer Cavalry. In 1864, the battalion was called back to Minnesota to defend the frontier from the depredations of the Sioux Indians. The battalion was mustered out of service May 16, 1866, at Fort Snelling, and had the distinction of having seen the longest service of any volunteer organization in the Civil war.

Last Survivor.

Mr. Barclay was the last survivor of the battalion. After the war, he returned to his father’s farm and worked there until he married Madoliene O’Callaghan of Stockton, June 17, 1875. She died April 2, 1935, at Huron. They bought a farm near Stockton and lived there until 1893, when they moved to Winona to reside. They moved to Huron in 1920.

Mr. Barclay was a member of the Masonic lodge for 61 years, a member of the Killpatric post, G.A.R., and had been a member of the John Ball post, Winona. Survivors are four children, Thomas H. Barclay, Jacksonville, Fla., and Hugh C., Robert M., and Mrs. Buck, Huron, and five grandchildren, Gladys Farrell, Merle Barclay, Harold Barclay, Richard Barclay and Cloyd Buck.

Winona Republican-Herald – May 26, 1936

Humorous Reminiscences by ‘Nix of Cowanus’

January 20, 2010

Doings in our School House.

Under this head, we find in the N.Y. Spirit of the Times some humorous reminiscences by ‘Nix of Cowanus,’ from which we extract the following spicy paragraphs:

‘First class of vagabonds rise!’ thundered our old schoolmaster. Well, the vagabonds did rise —

‘Now answer every question correctly, or I’ll break every bone in your bodies,’ was the next pronunciamento of the old autocrat of our red school house.

Image from the 1865 edition: Google Book LINK

‘John Brown what do you understand by accoustics?’

‘Why, a stick to drive cows with, I suppose.’

‘Get out, you young vagabond! Did I not see you reading about the science of sound?’

‘Guess not — that was about Sylvester Sound, the Somnambulist.’

‘It was, eh? Sarah, you are John’s younger sister?’

‘Yeth thir.’

‘What is accoustics?’

‘I know, thir — it ith, it ith the art of making a noith and hearing a noith.’

‘You are right. Explain it.’

‘Yeth thir. If you tick your finger in your mouth and then pull it out suddenly, the cold air rushes into the vacuum, and produtheth a sound that thrikes upon the tympan of the ear which maketh the thound audible, and is denominated the thrence of a couthitixth.’

‘You are quite right, Sarah. John, can you now tell me what is meant by the science of accoustics? Be careful, sir, or you’ll feel my stick.’

‘Yes, sir. A cow sticks your finger in her mouth — kicks over the pan, which sounds awful, and is called the science of a cow’s kick.’

‘Well, John, you do credit to your teacher. — You may take your books and run home.’

Ninepence (Image from

‘Willy Chase, what is the currency of the United States?’

“Cash and money.’

‘What are its denominations?’

‘Coppers, bogus and Bungtown cents, pennies, fips, pics, four pence hap’nys, levys, ninepences, and shinplasters.’

‘That will do.’

‘Jones, what is the standard weight of the U.S.?’

‘Scale weight and a little longer.’

‘Samuel, how many kingdoms are there in the material world?’


‘Three, only three.’

‘Four, I think, sir.’

‘Well, name them — what are they?’

‘Mineral kingdom, animal kingdom, vegetable kingdom, and kingdom come.’

‘Now, how many kinds of motion are there?’


‘No, only two; voluntary and involuntary.’

‘Simon says there are four.’

‘What does Simon say they are?’

‘Point, point up, point down, and wig-wag.’

‘You rascal! I’ve a mind to wig-wag your jacket! Hadn’t you better describe the motion of my stick?’

‘I can, sir.’

‘And its effect?’

‘Yes, sir. Up stroke, and down stroke — the up stroke regular and easy, the down stroke spasmodically electrifying, and its effect strikingly indescribable.’

‘You understand that, I see.’

‘George Smith, do you recollect the story of David and Goliath?’

‘Yes sir — David was a tavern keeper, and Goliah was an intemperate man.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Nobody. I read it; and it is said that David fixed a sling for Goliah, and Goliah got slewed with it.’

‘Wasn’t Goliah a giant, a strong man?’

‘Yes, he was a giant, but he had a weak head.’

‘How so?’

‘Why to get so easily slewed.’

‘Yes George, that was undoubtedly owing ot the strength of the sling. Wasn’t David a musician?’

‘Yes sir — he played psalms on the harp; a favorite instrument with the Jews, and at the present day it is called a Jewsharp. I have one in my pocket — here it is. Place it in your mouth thus — breathe on the tongue gently, then strike it with your fingers this way — and the psalms, in harmonious corncob fructify on the ear as natural as thunder.’

‘That’s sufficient — you can pocket your harp.’

‘Jane, what is time?’

‘Something that flies, any how.’

‘How do you make that out!’

‘Why, tempus fugit.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Latin; it means that time flies, and how can time, if it flies, be anything else than something that flies?’

‘Excellent. What is the meaning of requiescat in pace?’

‘Rest quiet cat in peace.’

‘Well, Jane: at Latin you are perfectly au fait — which translated, means perfectly awful; it is a great phrase from the classics, and applicable to this class particularly. Now take off your jackets, and I will give you ‘reward of merit.’ Those who get more than they merit, can keep the overplus as a token of my special affection for them; and those who get less, can have the mistake rectified by mentioning it to me.’

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Dec 25, 1849

Greatest Game of the Season: MASSACHUSETTS

January 19, 2010

From: The Evening News (San Jose, California) Nov 3, 1900


The Carroll Herald (Carroll, Iowa) Nov 7, 1900


January 18, 2010

From the N.Y. Tribune.



The Old men all remember —
as ‘it were but yesterday —
When Britian sought, on Freedom’s soil,
Againt to plant her sway,
The Old men all remember
Who hurled her back again —
‘Twas Winfield Scott at Chippewa,
‘Twas Scott, at Lundy’s Lane!
So fling for Scott the banner out,
And sing for Scott hurrah;
With him we can the Locos rout,
And win for Chippewa.

The Young men all remember —
‘Twas not five years ago —
Who led our boats to victory,
And conquered Mexico;
The Young men all remember
How Churabusco’s field,
And Vera Cruz, and Contreras,
Where made by Scott to yield!
So fling for Scott the banner out,
And sing for Scott hurrah;
With him we can the Locos rout,
And win for Chippewa.

The Old men and the Young men —
With Scott to lead the fight —
From hill and dale, from shore and wave,
Will rally and unite;
The Old men and the Young men —
With Scott to lead them on —
Will make the hero of two wars,
Their chief at Washington!
So fling for Scott the banner out,
And sing for Scott hurrah,
With him we can the Locos route,
And win for Chippewa.

The Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Aug 24, 1852

Old Feud Supplies Hogs with a Fresh Meal

January 18, 2010


Hogs Partially Devoured Dead Body.


Greenwood, Ind., Nov. 8. — William Pherson, living five miles southeast of here, who killed Milton Knapp, has made a full confession.

A grudge had been existing between the men for some time. The farms of the two are side by side, and Knapp went out on his farm, where his son lives, to look after some work.
Pherson saw Knapp crawling through a fence, and, picking up a cudgel of wood, attacked him.

Knapp drew his knife and defended himself as best he could, but he was beaten to death with the club and left lying in the fence corner. When discovered the hogs had devoured much of his body.

Pherson, it is claimed, came to Greenwood and made a confession to his daughter, Mrs. Charles League.

He was arrested by marshal Dunlavy and taken to the office of the prosecuting attorney, where he is said to have made a full confession.
He was taken to jail at Franklin. Pherson is about 70 years old.

The Evening News (San Jose, California) – Nov. 8, 1900


In the Tragedy Resulting in the Death of Milton Knapp.

Franklin, Ind., Nov. 5. — the tragic death of Milton Knapp near here last week was the sequel of a feud. the men were brothers-in-law and both aged. Knapp long since retired from active life and occasionally visited his farms from his quiet home in the village of Whiteland. Saturday he went out to his Harbert farm, and it was here that Pherson came upon him just at dark. The quarrel commenced years ago was briefly renewed. Pherson, though 70 years, was the younger and stouter of the two. Seizing a heavy stick, he felled his defenseless antagonist and literally mauled him to death.

No one was near to witness the struggle, and when Pherson had done his work he mounted his horse, rode home and remained there during the night. When the body of Knapp was discovered by a farm hand early Saturday morning it was being torn to pieces by hogs. The ravenous swine had gnawed the old man’s head away and almost stripped the flesh from his bones and had to be beaten away from their victim.

The Carroll Herald (Carroll, Iowa) – Nov. 7, 1900

1900 Census - Johnson Co. Indiana

On this census record, you can see that the Pherson family lives next door to Milton Knapp’s son, who, according to the article, lived on his father’s farm.

1900 Census - Pleasant, Johnson Co. Indiana

This 1900 census record shows Milton Knapp living in town, and listed (not shown here)  as a landlord.

Elizabeth Pherson and Catherine Knapp were apparently sisters, their father being Oliver Harbert.

Indiana Marriage Records:

Name: William H. Pherson
Spouse Name: Elizabeth Harbert
Marriage Date: 13 Feb 1865
Marriage County: Johnson
Source Title 1:     Johnson County, Indiana


Name: Milton Knapp
Spouse Name: Catharine Harbut
Marriage Date: 16 Oct 1860
Marriage County: Johnson
Source Title 1:     Johnson County, Indiana

Gird Your Loins, Kiddies!

January 16, 2010

Don’t Take My Word for It

By Frank Colby

Kiddy Stuff

From St. Joseph: On behalf of the small boys and girls of America, I urge you to start a movement to purge from our vocabulary for all time to come the hateful word “kiddy.” — Mrs. M.B.

Anwswer: Crusader Colby buckles on his armor and sends the youth of America this Rhym-o-gram:

Arise, O, children, in yor wrath;
Come, gather ‘neath the banner
Of Revolution, wild and red!
Rebel against the manner
In which the grown-up simpleton
(The addle-brained and giddy),
With idiotic smile refers
To each of you as “kiddy.”

Discard the ball and paper doll;
Throw down the toy and rattle.
Come, gird your loins with rubber pants;
March on, enfants, to battle!
who calls you “kiddy,” smite him down,
Bite, claw, scratch, gouge, and kick;
And pound into his silly pate
That “kiddy” makes you sick!

We’ll organize a panzer troop
Of tricycles and scooters.
A regiment of yearlings will
Let fly with spit-ball shooters.
And in three-cornered uniforms
We’ll blitz, O, chickabillies,
The half-wit, drooling enemy
Who speaks of us as “kiddies”!

Get rough, get tough, bambino.
Your spinach; quaff your milk.
And tear them limb from limb, the dolts
Who purr, as smooth as silk;
“Dear itty bitty kiddies.” Faugh!
We’ve had enough of that.
This be your ultimatum: “Die,
Or learn to call me BRAT!”

Pittsburgh Post-Gazette – Oct. 23, 1941