Historical Collections of Ohio

By Henry Howe

Vol. II

©1888

 

SANDUSKY COUNTY—Continued

 

 

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The following sketch of MRS. HAYES, with the Tributes to her Memory, was prepared for this work by MISS LUCY ELIOT KEELER, of Fremont, with whom it has been a labor of love.

 

LUCY WARE WEBB HAYES was born August 28, 1831, in Chillicothe, Ohio, at that time the capital of the State.  She was of good patriotic pioneer stock.

 

Her father was Dr. James WEBB, a native of Kentucky, and son of Isaac WEBB, a Revolutionary soldier of Virginia, who settled in Kentucky about 1790.  On her mother’s side she was of Puritan ancestry.  Her mother, Maria COOK, was the daughter of Isaac COOK, a Revolutionary soldier of Connecticut, who emigrated to the Old Northwest Territory about ten years before Ohio became a State.  A native of Ohio herself, both of her parents were born in the West.  All four of her great-grandfathers served in the Revolutionary war, in regiments of the Connecticut or Virginia lines of the Continental army.  Awards of land, made to them in return for military service rendered as officers in these regiments, led to the ultimate transfer of the family residence to Kentucky and Ohio.

 

Her father, Dr. James WEBB, when quite young, served in the war of 1812 as a member of the Kentucky mounted riflemen.  When she, his only daughter, was but two years old, he died in Lexington, Ky., whither he had gone from his Ohio home to arrange for manumitting slaves of his inheritance, with the intention of sending them to Liberia.  This visit took place during the terrible year of the cholera scourge, and being a physician, he lingered among his old-time friends with a loyalty unto death—giving them care and medical attendance until himself stricken fatally by the disease.

 

Her mother was a woman of unusual strength of character and of deep religious convictions.  After death of her husband she removed to Delaware, in order to be near the Wesleyan University, where her two sons, Joseph and James, were educated.  Her fortune was sufficient to give her children a careful education.  Lucy studied with her brothers and recited to the college professors.  When her brothers began their studies in the medical college, she entered Wesleyan Female College at Cincinnati, the first chartered college for young women in America, in 1847, and graduated in 1850.  While in attendance at this institution she joined the Methodist Episcopal Church, of which she ever remained a faithful and devoted member.

 

Before she had finished her school-life in Cincinnati, her mother removed to the city, and occupied a home on Sixth street, near Race, where the family resided while her two brothers were completing their medical studies.  Here she was wedded to Rutherford B. HAYES, a young lawyer of the city, December 30, 1852.  The marriage ceremony was performed by her old instructor, Rev. L. D. McCABE, D. D., of the Ohio Wesleyan University, who also attended the twenty-fifth anniversary of the wedding while Mrs. HAYES was mistress of the Presidential mansion in Washington.

 

When the war broke out her husband and both of her brothers immediately entered the army, and from that time until the close of the war her home was a refuge for wounded, sick and furloughed soldiers, going to or returning from the front.  She spent two winters in camp with her husband in Virginia, and after the battle at South Mountain, where he was badly wounded, she hastened East and joined him at Middletown, Md., and later spent much time in the hospitals near the battlefields of South Mountain and Antietam.

 

It was no marvel that the soldiers of her husband’s regiment revered her, and that she was made a member of the Army of West Virginia, the badge of which society she always prized very highly.  The Twenty-third Regiment of Ohio Volunteer Infantry presented her, on the occasion of her silver wedding with a silver plate, on which is engraved the following lines:

 

 

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wave, orchids hang from the high ceilings, and “birds of Paradise” lean their golden heads out from their sheaths of loveliest green—the flower of “the Holy Ghost”—and all the lilies of the world seem to bloom against the banks of smilax and roses.  As you sit at the table, you see this bewildering fairy land of color and fragrance.

 

Toward the south, you look across the wide lawn with the little green knolls, the large evergreens, and below them the silver thread of river as it runs toward the sea from our Capital, and the historic Long-bridge, with the old Virginia hills in the distance.  Dinner was always at two o’clock.  The table was laid with all the elegance of the grand state dinners, and served in as many courses, lasting until five or six o’clock.  “Isaac,” the head waiter, often declared to “the Madam” that “they were the best times of all the year.”

 

After the first Thanksgiving Mrs. Hayes used the family dining-room.  She said to Mrs. Pruden, “It isn’t so large and stately; this looks more home-like.”  This family dining-room opens from the long corridor, where palms and azaleas nod as you pass them in the niches by the heavy oaken doors; and the faces of all the Presidents gaze at you from the walls.  The furniture is carved mahogany, and on the handsome buffet is kept the old solid silver of the “Monroes and the Van Burens,” and the gold spoons and forks marked simply, “President’s House.”  You have read, no doubt, of the beautiful china service made to order for Mrs. Hayes.  One can read a story from each plate; “the fishes and birds,” some one said, “deserved frames.”

 

In the centre of the table was laid a long mirror, like a little lake, on which sat a silver boat, with silver sails, filled with maiden-hair ferns and roses; sometimes lilies of the valley, and scarlet carnations.  One of the tiny children said, “Oh, see, mamma! there are two boats!” In this make-believe pond you see the sweet buds and leaves upside down, and trembling with every motion.  Beside each plate was laid a small menu card with one’s name, and a lovely boutonnière tied with pretty ribbon; sometimes the boutonnière was only an old-fashioned sweet pink, “just like mother’s garden.”  High chairs were close beside mamma’s for the little ones.

 

The first official in rank was the secretary, Mr. Pruden, who had the honor of a seat beside the President’s wife; while Mr. Hayes led the way to the dining-room with Mrs. Pruden on his arm.  The executive clerks and their families passed in next.  There were some twelve or fifteen children.  I said, one day, “But don’t they get very tired with a three-hour dinner?”

 

“Oh, no,” the mother replied; “Mrs. Hayes entertains them with such wonderful tact and humor they never ask to move.”

 

Little Eva Pruden was a very lovely child, only three years old.  Her wonderful hair almost touched the hem of her little gown, and fell in natural waves, just the color of  gold in the sun.  She was a great pet of Mrs. Hayes, and sat next to her at the table.

 

At one of these dinners, on a handsome glass dish, sat a white swan.  Tall, long, graceful and perfect she sat in the midst of her rainbow-hued family.  Little swans, with throats of impossible beauty, sat all around her—green, blue, red, violet, white and brown.

 

Isaac was about to dish up a little swan to each child, when Mrs. Hayes spoke quickly and merrily, “Oh, stop a minute, Isaac! let’s see which they like the best.”

 

Turning to the youngest, she said, “Eva, which do you choose for your own?” Eva timidly and modestly dropped her head to one side and answered, “I like de deen one, please.”  So the beautiful green swan sailed across in a pretty dish to little Eva’s plate, while the others soon “choosed” their favorite color.

 

The elder children chatted and felt perfectly at home with their charming hostess, who told stories, explained the odd customs of the White House, told them all about the wonderful flowers, and the way the gardeners made them into hundreds of bouquets every day, and talked about the good Thanksgiving when she was a little girl, until the three or four hours had passed like magic.

 

Everybody’s health was proposed; toasts drank, and bright, witty speeches made, not with wine, but with the clearest of sparkling water; for you know Mrs. Hayes, in her quiet, gentle way, refused to put wine on her own table, even as the wife of the President, and said, “I have young sons who have never tasted liquor; they shall never receive it from my hand; what I wish for my own dear sons, I must do for the sons of other mothers.”

 

It was always a beautiful sight to see that mother with her children.  They treated her like an elder sister.  Up and down the halls and reception-rooms of the old mansion, with their arms about her waist, her hands over their childish shoulders, talking, visiting, and laughing, they could be seen marching any day.  An English gentleman met them once in the East Room, quite early in the morning, and said to the minister, Mr. Thornton, afterward, “I shall take home to England with me a charming picture of the President’s family.”

 

At last the feast was over; the philopenas eaten with the laughing children; the creamy swans and the purple grapes, lobsters of fiery redness and icy coldness, fruits, and vegetables looking natural as life, but melting away in delicious ices, all coming and going in most mysterious ways.  Even watermelons, growing like grandfather’s melons in the old grandfather’s garden, turning out to be “nothing but cream after all.”

 

 

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“Now, mamma,” screamed the President’s little son, “you catch!” and in and out the Blue and Red Rooms, the halls and stairways, Mrs. Hayes would run, hide and catch, while the whole house echoed to the shouts and laughter of the delighted children.

 

Then at the piano they would sing, and march, laugh and play to their heart’s content.

 

One day a big black pin dropped out of Mrs. Hayes’ handsome heavy hair, and it fell over her shoulders like a mantle of black; with no annoyance, she picked up the pin, went on with the game, twisting the coil simply and plainly as she ran.  She always wore a simple dress; usually at these home dinners some black stuff, of soft, clinging material, trimmed with surah as a “vest,” or “panels”—creamy, rich lace in the throat and at the wrists.

 

“The secret of Mrs. Hayes’ remarkable tact and genius, as hostess and friend, was the mother part of her,” was once said of her.                                                  M. S.

 

 

MRS. HAYES’ FRIENDSHIP.

 

HOW A POOR WASHINGTON LINCH GIRL EARNED IT.

 

There was time when the “treasury girls” in Washington had a grievance and were not backward in airing it.  Said one of them:

 

“So Uncle Sam has had an economical fit; can’t let us have our noonday tea; ‘takes too long!’”

 

“Well, Sarah, it isn’t Uncle Sam’s time; still Secretary McCullough says ‘teapots must be banished from the Treasury of the nation! Every window-ledge in the building has one!’”

 

But this grumbling was long ago.  It had become almost forgotten when Mrs. Hayes was installed mistress of the White House.

 

Rachel Myers, a pretty girl, daughter of a soldier, kept a small lunch-room not far from the Treasury for the accommodation of the Treasury clerks, and in plain sight from Mrs. Hayes windows.

 

Rachel had so generous a face, ways so modest, and eyes so earnest that Mrs. Hayes watched her a good deal, and one day went in for lunch after the noonday tea had been served to the crowd of clerks.

 

Taking her seat, asking for a cup of tea and a biscuit, she said, “Miss Rachel, don’t you sometimes find this dull and tiresome?”

 

“Oh, yes’m!’ Rachel replied, “but of course I must work, and the ladies are very kind in the Departments; they hate to come out of the building for lunch, and the half-hour is so short; but nobody is allowed to have a corner inside any more.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“The Secretary turned out the tea-pots long ago, and won’t take ‘em back.”

 

Rachel tossed her head as she added, “I’d rather be a poor girl selling cakes, than to be as mean as the big people over there,” pointing towards the White House.”

 

“Are they mean, Rachel?   What makes you thinks so?” Mrs. Hayes sipped her tea, and tried not to smile.

 

“Well, everything in this whole city has to be just as they say!  They don’t help the poor, but only give big dinners, and ride out in their fine carriages and enjoy themselves!  If they wanted to, there are so many ways of helping poor people.”

 

“What could they do for you?”  Mrs. Hayes said, as she laid down her ten cents.

 

“I should think it would be a great pleasure to do something for girls like you.”

 

“Oh!  Mr. Secretary can’t turn around without asking the President, you know, and the President don’t trouble himself about the poor, hard-working women and girls,” Rachel said spitefully.

 

“Have you ever seen the President’s wife?  I think she is fond of young girls, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she could get you a little room for lunch in the Treasury building.  Suppose you go over to-morrow morning about 10.  She is always at home then.”

 

Rachel’s eyes danced.  “Oh!  how kind that would be; but—I—don’t think—I shouldn’t know how to meet the President’s wife, you know,” and Rachel laid her hand impulsively on the dark brown silk sleeve, and the soft, warm, ungloved hand of Mrs. Hayes kindly folded itself over Rachel’s.

 

Promptly at 10 the doorkeeper led Rachel to the private sitting-room of the “Mrs. President.”

 

Mrs. Hayes met her with smiles and pleasure.

 

“Good morning, my dear,” she said. 

 

“Good morning, ma’am; you see I’ve come as you told me, but I do wish you’d do the talking for me when she comes in.  I feel afraid of the ‘great people,’ but I love you.”

 

“The ‘great people,’ child, are no greater than you, in spirit; and I hope you won’t despise us any more.  I am the wife of the President!  Do you feel afraid of me now?”

 

Poor Rachel!  she laughed and cried, begged pardons, stammered and hesitated; but the two were evermore firm friends.

 

 

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CHARITIES AT THE WHITE HOUSE.

 

From the Oration of Hon. J. D. Taylor, M. C., delivered at the Memorial Service in Honor of Mrs. Lucy Webb Hayes, in Wesleyan Memorial Hall, Cincinnati, December 30^th, 1889.

 

“No family ever occupied the White House that dispensed such generous hospitality, or who were so charitable to the poor as the family of President Hayes.  During the four years that Mrs. Hayes was its honored mistress, the hearts of hundreds of poor people were gladdened by her kindness and benevolence, nut the greatest care was taken that these acts of charity should not be made public.  The widow and the orphan, the soldier and the sailor, the sick and the afflicted, never asked in vain, or were turned empty-handed away, but soldiers and the families of soldiers, and those who were rendered helpless by the war, were the special objects of her charity and care.

 

“A few days since I had the pleasure of meeting, in Washington, Mr. W. T. Crump, who was with Gen. Hayes in the army, and who was also his steward in the White House.  Associated with the family in this way during such a long period, he is able to give an inside history which has never reached the public.  He said to me that it was no unusual thing for him to take wagonloads of provisions to the poor in all parts of Washington during the four years of President Hayes’ administration; that whenever Mrs. Hayes would hear of a poor soldier who was ill, she would send him to investigate and report. ‘I would tell her,’ said he, ‘how many there were in the family, and she herself would go to the store-room, and would give me groceries—tea, coffee, sugar, flour, meat, eggs—a little of everything, and she would then say to me, ‘Now, William, take these things to these poor people,’ and at the same time she would give me money to buy coal or anything the family might need.’

 

“He cited the case of Major Bailey, who came from North Carolina where he settled after the war and remained until he was driven out, sick, discouraged and impoverished.  He and his family came to Washington and were found by Mrs. Hayes in the northern part of the city, in want and distress, in a house destitute of furniture and food.  The major was suffering so from disease that he was entirely helpless.  His wife was worn out with watching, and they and their three children were without fire, food, or sufficient clothing.  “Mrs. Hayes,” says Mr. Crump, ‘sent my boy to Major Bailey’s with some money and a wagon load of food and supplies of various kinds, and sent me down to buy bedsteads, chairs, tables, stoves, carpets, dishes, in fact, everything necessary to furnish two rooms and to make this family comfortable.  When I carried these things into that desolate home, Major Bailey and his family cried and laughed by turns, and when the major learned at last by whom these things had been sent, he exclaimed, ‘God bless her!  God bless her!’

 

“The next day there was a Cabinet meeting, and as soon as it was over Mrs. Hayes called on the members of the Cabinet, for a collection for the benefit of Major Bailey’s family and raised $125.

 

“At the Cabinet table sat Secretary Schurz, who was the colonel of Major Bailey’s regiment, and Secretary Evarts, who had a son in the same regiment.  Their attention having thus been called to the major’s needs, he was cared for until he recovered and obtained a position in one of the Departments.

 

“Hundreds of such instances could be given.  The steward showed me entries made by himself for his own purposes, and not intended for the public eye, showing that the President and Mrs. Hayes, during the four years they occupied the White House, gave away thousands of dollars for benevolent purposes, of which the public has no knowledge whatever.

 

“The memoranda runs thus:

 

Jan 12^th. Sent provisions to poor

                  families, and $70 in cash.

″       13^th. Paid for medicine ……........$145.00

″       19^th. The President gave an old

                 man ………………..….….... 50.00

″       26^th. Mrs. Hayes-Charities .…. .425.00 

″       31^st. Charities …………….…….300.00

 

And so on during all the months of their stay in the Executive Mansion.  The charity of Mrs. Hayes was not the mere ‘giving of alms.’

 

“ ‘Not what we give, but what we share, for the gift without the giver is bare.’

 

“Only a few days since, an army officer, now stationed in Washington, said he should never forget a visit made by Mrs. Hayes to the home of Captain Corbin in the suburbs of Washington at the time his little boy died.  A carriage was driven to the door.  Mrs. Hayes alighted and quietly entered the home.  Inquiring for Mrs. Corbin she was at once shown to her room and soon after was seen with her arm about the grief-stricken mother, mingling her own tears of sorrow, and whispering words of comfort and consolation.”

 

TRIBUTES TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. HAYES.

 

 

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Rev. Dr. L. D. McCabe.—How well do I remember my first acquaintance with the illustrious woman whose departure has called together weeping multitudes to-day all over the land.  Forty-four years since we entered the town of Delaware in a stage coach together.  Her esteemed and widowed mother was then returning with her and her two brothers to that city to enjoy its educational advantages.  The child’s sweet and most natural happy ways drew me to her.  I became her preceptor, and more than by any lesson or any learning, she refreshed my weariness, with her always kind, but bright and overflowing spirits.  Under the moulding hand of a rare Christian mother, she developed into womanhood and responsibility, and added a sincere religious experience to her always attractive character.  She finished her studies in her school life in Cincinnati Wesleyan Female Seminary, winning the special regard of all her companions and forming the most ennobling friendships, which have continued through her life.  At the age of twenty-one she gave her heart and her hand to that honored one, who has led her from height to height of all that this world has to give. In all these various and testing positions, instead of relaxing the firmness of her principles, or in the least departing from the spirit and practice of piety, she shed a new charm upon them all and truly made them more illustrious by her unostentatious virtues.

 

The contact with the world did not spoil that loving kindness of nature.  She was always finding some human heart which needed binding up.  Much of her divine Lord’s spirit she had a tender regard for humanity, which could brook no unkind word, indeed could brook nothing that could wound a fellow-being, however lowly.  She was one bright example before the world of the union of charm of manner with a kindness so genuine that it failed under no combination of circumstances.  Would that the fair picture could be for ever kept before the young womanhood of the world.  One who saw her much and studied her most attentively, said: “She is the humblest and yet she is the wisest of us all.”

 

Mrs. Allen G. Thurman, in speaking of Mrs. Hayes, said: “I have known Mrs. Hayes—I always called her Lucy—from childhood, in fact, since she was scarcely able to run alone.  *  *  *  We lived in the same neighborhood.  From childhood Lucy was the sweetest girl I ever saw.  She was pretty, but that was not her chief attraction.  It was her lovable nature that won all hearts, and her friendship, once secured, knew no change.”

 

From Miss Frances E. Willard.—No woman ever lived who did so much to discountenance the social use of intoxicants as the royal and lamented Christian matron, Mrs. ex-President Hayes.  She struck a key note that rings to-day in ten thousand homes of wealth and fashion, and re-echoes in the grateful memory of millions who, against a desperate appetite, have formed a holy resolution.  For such a woman and patriot, for such a wife and mother, we cannot do too much to manifest our reverence.  America had not her peer, and never suffered sadder loss than in losing Lucy Webb Hayes.

 

Mrs. General Grant, in a conversation with Nellie Bly—who in turn told the writer—said that she had never seen anyone so radiantly lovely as Mrs. Hayes.  “She was dressed in white silk,” Mrs. Grant said, “and her dark hair was combed smoothly over her ears.  Her soft black eyes shone like diamonds and her cheeks were as red as roses.”

 

Mary Clemmer.—Meanwhile, on this man of whom every one in the nation is thinking, a fair woman between two little children looks down.  She has a singularly gentle and winning face.  It looks out from the bands of smooth dark hair with that tender light in the eyes which we have come to associate always with the Madonna.  I have never seen such a face reign in the White House.  I wonder what the world of Vanity Fair will do with it?  Will it friz that hair?  powder that face?  draw those sweet, fine lines awry with pride?  bare those shoulders?  shorten those sleeves?  hide John  Wesley’s discipline out of sight, as it poses and minces before the first lady of the land?  what will she do with it, this woman of the hearth and home? strong as she is fair, will she have the grace to use it as not abusing it; to be in it; yet not of it; priestess of a religion pure and undefiled, holding the white lamp of her womanhood unshaken and unsullied, high above the heated crowd that fawns, flatters and soils?  The Lord in heaven knows.  All that I know is that Mr. and Mrs. Hayes are the finest looking type of man and woman that I have seen take up their abode in the White House.”

 

Gen. W. T. Sherman writes as follows: “Were it not for the fact that I long since committed myself to Denver for the Fourth of July, I should come to Fremont to demonstrate my great respect for you and love for her memory; but as it is I can only trace on paper a few words of sorrow and ask a place in that vast procession of mourners, who would, if possible, share with you that burden of grief.  Her sudden and totally unexpected death leaves a great blank in the good and cheerful in this world.  How vividly come back to me the memories of her hearty greetings, her beaming face and unavoidable good nature, more especially during that long and eventful trip to the Pacific and back by Arizona, when at times heat, dust, and the untimely intrusion of rough minors would have ruffled the most angelic temper.  Never once do I recall an instance when she ever manifested the least displeasure.”

 

 

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will linger for ever about the executive mansion.

 

Ex-Senator Bruce, of Mississippi.—There never was a woman who graced the White House with greater dignity.  It might, perhaps, be said that my wife and myself called at the White House during the administration under somewhat exceptional circumstances.  We always found her pleasant, kindly, genial.

 

Senator Allison, of Iowa, writes as follows: “I trust that my long personal acquaintance with Mrs. Hayes, and my appreciation of her gentle and noble qualities of heart and mind will be sufficient excuse for me to express to you my deep sympathy with you in your great loss; and what is yours is, in a less degree, that of the whole country, as I know of none more beloved than she was by all good people in every part of the land.”

 

President Angell, of the University of Michigan, writes: “The moral sentiment of the nation deplores the loss of your estimable wife.  Her exemplary life in the White House, as well as in private life, will shine in history like the stars in the heavens.”

 

The Rev. T. Dewitt Talmage characteristically telegraphs: “Be comforted with a nation’s sympathies.  What a gracious and splendid woman she was!”

 

Francis Murphy said he had just returned from attending the funeral services of Mrs. Hayes, who he characterized as the noblest woman in the land, and in speaking of her said: “Her virtues of mind and heart one scarcely needs to be told.  The sweetness of her nature matched the beauty of her person and the charm of her manners.  In her elevated position which she has occupied she never lost the simplicity of character of her private life and girlhood.  She was a woman of high and lofty ideas of the purest and best type.  Over her whole career, both public and private, lingered an air of gentleness, with malice towards none and charity for all.”  Mr. Murphy said he had travelled 1,000 miles, to show his respect to the memory of Mrs. Hayes.

 

New York Independent.—Mrs. Hayes seemed delighted to welcome every one to the White House, whether friend or stranger, whether poor or rich.  That was the secret of her success as hostess—that she was really glad to see every one whose hand she grasped; her warm heart shone in her warm greeting.  She retired from the White House amid universal regret.  She was a woman of ceaseless activity in all good work.  Those who mourn her loss in Fremont are numbered by the thousand; but those who mourn her loss throughout the country must be numbered by the million.  She was a woman that the country may always be proud of.  Her charm, her grace, her dignity of manner and her force of character will not be forgotten.

 

New York Herald.—Memories of a noble life hover about the death-bed of Mrs. Rutherford B. Hayes.  The spotless woman deserves the love and respect of the whole country.  Whether nursing the dying soldiers of the Union army or banishing the wine cup from the White House, she displayed the courage and devotion that are born of inner purity.  All honor to the blameless wife and mother, the uncompromising champion of temperance, the friend of unfashionable virtues.

 

Washington Post, June 24, 1889.—Wherever her name is known will the news of her mortal illness carry a sense of regret and loss.  Certainly no American woman in the past or present has created for herself, under all public and trying conditions, so little criticism and so much admiration, respect and affection as the wife of ex-President Hayes. . . .The lustre of her public life, the loveliness of her home life and family relations, were the reflex of an uncompromising conscience, a broad charity and an unquestioning reliance and submission to the law that is more just and wiser than man’s.

 

Gracious as a woman, sincere as a Christian, herself the friend of many, she goes down into the valley, covered and crowned with the love of an entire people.  The sympathy which goes out to those who are nearest and have watched over her with unspeakable sorrow, is as complete and sincere as the reverence with which the people will hereafter utter her name.

 

Brooklyn Eagle.—She was a woman of the purest and best type; a woman whose instincts were those of supreme refinement and benevolence.  Her life was controlled by a sovereign purpose, and that purpose to do good.  She believed that a woman’s sphere was limited only by her opportunities for making her life a benediction.  She felt that she had a mission in the world, and acting upon that confidence she was able to bequeath a memory of noble deeds tat no perishable monument can rival.

 

Dayton Journal.—It is not disputable that Mrs. Lucy Webb Hayes was the most notable woman of her day, as the peculiar and singular representative of the dignified, graceful and lovable woman of general cultivated home society of this nation.  No woman who ever occupied the White House commanded the exclusive character of profound respect, associated with affection, that was the distinction of Mrs. Lucy Webb Hayes.  .  .  .When the historian of our war times records the noble women who were distinguished for their virtues, the name of Lucy Webb Hayes will glitter in the shining galaxy as a model American woman.

 

 

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a high plane all her life, and her influence was everywhere beneficent. . . . She knew how to make all visitors feel perfectly at home when within her doors.  She was devoted to her domestic duties, and romped with her children in the nursery will all the freedom of a loving mother; and all her social duties at Fremont, Columbus and Washington were performed with dignity and grace.   Toledo Commercial.—The lesson of her life should not be lost upon the young.  If they would be held in high esteem, they must be true to the right—true to themselves, to their families and to their convictions of duty.  These are the elements of character which have drawn forth the admiration of all.  This is a simple, but it is an all-important lesson.   Look in our eyes; your welcome waits you there, North, South, East, West, from all and everywhere.                                                                 Oliver Wendell Holmes.   Her presence lends its warmth and health to all who come before it; If woman lost us Eden, then such as she alone restore it.                                                                 Whittier.   The woman who, standing in the chief home, stood bravely for the sake of every home in the land.                                                                    Adeline T. D. Whitney.   Whene’er a noble deed is wrought, Whene’er is spoke a noble thought,                 Our hearts in glad surprise                 To higher levels rise.                                                                 Longfellow.   To perform one’s functions with fidelity and simplicity is to be both hero and saint.—Edward Eggleston.   Her country also and it praiseth her.—Louise Chandler Moulton   When high moral worth and courage combine with gentleness, matronly dignity, graciousness and sweetest charity, the charm is complete.                                                                 D. Huntington,                                 Pres. National Academy of Design.       Few like thee have stood Upon the people’s threshold where The heralds of all nations go And come as sea tides ebb and flow, With graceful bravery have stood In grand and sterling womanhood. Unfaltering in thy high estate,     The sunshine flashing from the dome, Where prince and people stand and wait,     There thou didst bring the charm of home, A chieftain’s valor and a woman’s grace, All lily white to that exalted place. Lives nobly ended make the twilights long And keep in heart God’s nightingales of song.                                                                 Benj. F. Taylor.

 

 

SARDIS BIRCHARD was born in Wilmington, Vt., January 15, 1801.  He lost both parents while yet a child, and was taken into the family of his sister Sophia, who had married Rutherford Hayes.  In 1817 he accompanied them to Delaware, Ohio.  In 1822 his brother-in-law, Mr. Hayes, died, leaving a widow and three young children.  Mr. Birchard at once devoted himself to his sister and her family.  He never married, but through life regarded his sister’s family as his own.  He was a handsome, jovial young man and a universal favorite.

 

In the winter of 1824-5, with Stephen R. BENNETT as a partner, he bought and drove a large drove of fat hogs from Delaware to Baltimore.  “Two incidents of this trip,” says KNAPP, in his “History of the Maumee Valley,’ “are well remembered.  The young men had to swim their hogs across the Ohio river at Wheeling, and came near losing them all be the swift current.  In the meantime they were overtaken by a tall, fine-looking gentleman on horseback, who had also a carriage drawn by four horses with attendants.  He helped Mr. BIRCHARD to get the hogs out of the way, chatted with him, and advised him to dispose of them at Baltimore as the best market.  This gentleman, as they soon ascertained, was none other than Gen. Jackson, then on his way to Washington after the Presidential election of 1824, in which he was the highest in the popular vote, but not the successful candidate, for the election being thrown into the house John Quincy Adams was chosen.”

 

 

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terested in the construction of the first railroads of the Maumee valley.  He contributed largely to benevolent objects.  The Birchard Library is a gift from him to the city of Fremont.  He died in 1874, bequeathing his estate to this nephew, ex-President Hayes.

 

RALPH POMEROY BUCKLAND was born in Leyden, Mass., January 20, 1812.  When but a few months old his father removed to Ohio and settled in Portage county.  He was educated at Kenyon College, studied law, was admitted to the bar at Canfield in 1837, and the same year removed to Fremont.  He was married to Charlotte BROUGHTON, of Canfield, in 1838; was a delegate to the Whig National Convention in 1848; elected to the Ohio Senate in 1855, serving four years, during which time his bill for the adoption of children became a law.

 

In 1861 he was appointed colonel of the Seventy-second Ohio Volunteer Infantry, which afterwards, with other regiments, became noted as “Buckland’s Brigade.”  He commanded the Fourth Brigade of Sherman’s Division at the battle of Shiloh, and was made brigadier-general November 29, 1862.  He commanded a brigade of the Fifteenth Army Corps at Vicksburg and the District of Memphis for two years, resigning from the army, January 9, 1865, to take his seat in Congress, to which he had been duly elected while on duty in the field.  March 13, 1865, he was brevetted major-general of volunteers.  He served two terms in Congress and has held many important offices of trust; was a delegate to the Republican National Convention of 1876.  From 1867 till 1873 was president of the managers of the Ohio Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Orphans’ Home, and government director of the Pacific Railroad, 1877-80.  He has done much for the improvement of the city of Fremont and is one of its most respected and beloved citizens.  For two years ex-President Hayes was associated with Gen. BUCKLAND as his law partner.

 

A REMINISCENCE,

With some Poetry from “The World’s Wonder.”

 

When on my original visit to Fremont, I called on an elderly gentleman, Mr. Thomas L. HAWKINS, who was the keeper of the magazine in Fort Meigs at the time of the siege.  I found him at his home.  It was the gloom of the evening; no light in the room where he gave me his recollections of events.  My mind being in an unusually receptive condition, and having no use for my eyes in the darkness, my ears did double duty; so I remembered every word.  The incidents I thus gathered will be found under the head of the history of the siege of Fort Meigs in Wood county.

 

I was not then aware that Mr. HAWKINS was a cabinetmaker, a local preacher in the Methodist church, and greater than all, a poet!  This discovery was reserved for my last visit, and it came from Mr. Hayes’ library, wherein is a copy of a small volume entitled “The Poetic Miscellany and  World’s Wonder;” by Thomas L. HAWKINS.  Columbus: Scott & Bascom, printers, 1853.

 

 

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These verses have the charm of old-time rusticity; carries back my mind to the days of the fathers, even before the arrival of the cook stove.  I remember when they were unknown, and the people largely farmers, there being but few cities.  Often have I seen, when a youth, on wash-days, huge kettles hanging by cranes over great kitchen fires, filled with snow to melt for soft water; a dinner-pot over the fire for a boiled dinner, the usual menu for wash-days; and while the women of the family were bending over the wash-tub, some young girl or boy would be standing by a pounding-barrel, pounding the clothes prior to the rubbing process.  Pounding the clothes seemed to have been a common duty of the children of the family, who stood on stools to get the proper height.  The pounder was a round block of wood, perhaps eight inches long and weighing perhaps five to ten pounds, into which was inserted a long handle, as in a broom, for a lifter, which both hands grasped during the pounding operation.  With every washboard and mop sold by the poet was attached a card, with its poetic advertisement.

 

THE WASHBOARD

[Advertisement.]

 

 

 

T H E   M O P.

[Advertisement.]

 

 

 

 

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Spring.  He was a cheerful, upright youth, and was highly esteemed by all who knew him.  During his leisure hours he employed himself in study; later he was enabled to spend two years in the Norwalk Academy.  He received an appointment to West Point and graduated in 1853, first in a class of fifty-two members among whom were Philip H. SHERIDAN, John M. SCHOFIELD and John B. HOOD.  He taught for a year in West Point.  For three years he was engaged in engineering duty on the Atlantic coast—most of the time in New York harbor.  At the beginning of the war he was a lieutenant of engineers stationed in California, where for three years and a half he was in charge of the fortifications in the harbor of San Francisco.

 

He applied for active duty with the army in the field, where his promotion was very rapid.  He became lieutenant-colonel November 21, 1861; colonel, May 1 1862; brigadier-general of volunteers, May 15, 1862.  Gen. HELLOCK placed him on his staff, but in the spring of 1862 he was transferred to the staff of Gen. Grant and served as chief engineer at Fort Henry, Fort Donelson, Shiloh, the siege of Corinth and Iuka.  In the reorganization of Grant’s army in 1863, he was appointed to the command of the 17^th army corps.  In the section campaign against Vicksburg, McPHERSON’s corps bore a prominent part.  When the army settled down to the regular siege of Vicksburg McPherson’s command had the centre.  A year had rolled by since he was doing duty on Grant’s staff, a newly-fledged officer of volunteers.  Now he was firm in his high position, was the compeer of Sherman, and a lieutenant trusted and honored by the general-in-chief.  When Vicksburg was surrendered he became one of the commissioners to arrange the terms, and as a recognition of his skill and personal daring throughout the campaign, from Port Gibson to the bloody salients of the enemy’s massive earthworks, which withstood assault after assault, he was made full brigadier-general in the regular army.  From captain to brigadier-general in a year and a half!

 

When Grant at last turned over his command in the west to Sherman, and assumed the control of all the armies, McPHERSON succeeded the latter at the head of the Army of the Tennessee, then over 60,000 strong, and when Sherman set out his campaign to Atlanta, followed him in person with about 25,000 of his troops, the 15^th corps under Gen. John A LOGAN, and the 16^th under Gen. G. M. DODGE. 

 

In the battles before Atlanta the new commander of the Army of the Tennessee proved his fitness for the role and displayed the highest and best quality of a soldier—capacity for leadership.

 

When Sherman’s army was before Atlanta and he was extending his left flank to envelop the city, HOOD opened the movement with a series of engagements from July 19 to July 21.  On July 22, 1864, HOOD withdrew from the trenches in front of THOMAS and SCHOFIELD, and made a furious attack on Shermans’ left flank, aiming at the destruction of McPHERSON’S command.  At the time the onslaught was made McPHERSON was in consultation with Sherman.  He immediately issued an order for the closing of the gap between two corps, and then rode rapidly toward the threatened point, and while engaged in personally superintending the disposition of the troops, and passing from one column to another, he came suddenly upon a skirmish line of Confederates.  They called “Halt!” whereupon he endeavored to turn into the woods and escape, but a volley was fired after him.  A musket ball passed through his right lung, and shattered his spine, but he clung to his saddle until his horse had carried him further into the woods and then fell to the ground.  His orderly was captured.

 

 

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Top Picture

GENERAL JAMES B. McPHERSON.

 

Bottom Picture

R. Grob, Photo, 1887.

 

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The body was brought and laid out in the headquarters of Gen. Sherman, who, as he paced back and fro issuing orders for the battle still going on, shed bitter tears over the death of his favorite general.  In communicating the news of his death, to the War Department, Gen. Sherman wrote: “Not his the loss; but the country and the army will mourn his death and cherish his memory as that of one who, though comparatively young, had risen by his merit and ability to the command of one of the best armies the nation had called into existence to vindicate its honor and integrity.”

 

McPHERSON was greatly beloved by the army, and when the news reached them that he had either fallen or been taken captive, a wild cry rose from the whole army, “McPHERSON or revenge,” and the assault of the enemy was beaten back with great slaughter.

 

Gen. McPHERSON’S body was taken north and buried at Clyde, O., and an imposing monument now marks the place of his interment.  He was but thirty-five years of age at the time of his death, beloved by all who came in contact with him for his noble traits of character, and in the full tide of a brilliant career which promised the highest attainments.  Gen. Grant placed a high estimate on his genius, and always spoke of him in words of praise.  In March, 1864, he wrote to Sherman, “I want to express my thanks to you and McPHERSON, as the men to whom, above all others, I feel indebted for whatever I have had of success.”

 

Gen. McPHERSON’S personal appearance was very prepossessing.  Over six feet tall, well developed, graceful and winning in manner.  He was cheerful, genial, devoid of jealousy and had a keen sense of humor.  At the time of his death he was betrothed to an estimable young lady of Baltimore and expected soon to be married.  His affection for his family was unusually strong, and they were rarely absent from his thoughts.  When the news of his death reached Clyde the following touching correspondence ensued:

 

                                                                                                                “Clyde, O., Aug. 5, 1864.

 

“To GENERAL GRANT:

“ DEAR SIR,--I hope you will pardon me for troubling you with the perusal of these few lines, from the trembling hand of the aged grandma of our beloved General James B. MCPHERSON, who fell in battle.  When it was announced at his funeral, from the public print, that when General Grant heard of his death, he went into his tent and wept like a child, my heart went out in thanks to you for the interest you manifested in him while he was with you.  I have watched his progress from infancy up.  In childhood he was obedient and kind; in manhood, interesting, noble, and persevering, looking to the wants of others.  Since he entered the war, others can appreciate his worth more than I can.  When it was announced to us by telegraph that our loved one had fallen, our hearts were almost rent asunder; but when we heard the Commander-in Chief could weep with us too, we felt, sir, that you had been as a father to him, and this whole nation is mourning his early death.  I wish to inform you that his remains were conducted by a kind guard to the very parlor were he spent a cheerful evening in 1861, with his widowed  mother, two brothers and only sister, and his aged grandmother, who is now trying to write.  In the morning he took his leave at six o’clock, little dreaming he should fall by a ball from the enemy.  His funeral services were attended in his mother’s orchard, where his youthful feet had often pressed the soil to gather the falling fruit; and his remains are resting in the silent grave scarce half a mile from the place of his birth.  His grace is on an eminence but a few rods from where the funeral services were attended, and near the grave of his father.

 

“The grave, no doubt, will be marked, so that passers-by will often stop and drop a tear over the dear departed.  And now, dear friend, a few lines from you would be gratefully received by the afflicted friends.  I pray that the God of battles may be with you and go forth with your arms till rebellion shall cease, the Union be restored, and the old flag wave over the entire land.

                                                                “With much respect, I remain your friend,

                                                                                                                                “LYDIA SLOCUM,

                                                                                “Aged eighty-seven years and four months.”

 

                                                “HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,

                                                                “CITY POINT, VITGINIA, Aug. 10, 1864.

“Mrs. LYDIA SLOCUM:

“MY DEAR MADAM,—aYour very welcome letter of the 3^rd instant has reached me.  I am

 

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glad to know that the relatives of the lamented Major-General McPHERSON are aware of the more than friendship that existed between him and myself.  A Nation grieves at the loss of one so dear to our nation’s cause.  It is a selfish grief, because the Nation had more to expect from him than from almost anyone living.  I join in this selfish grief, and add the grief of personal love for the departed.  He formed, for some time, one of my military family.  I knew him well; to know him was to love.  It may be some consolation to you, his aged grandmother, to know that every officer and every soldier who served under your grandson felt the highest reverence for his patriotism, his zeal, his great, almost unequalled ability, his amiability and all the manly virtues that can adorn a commander.  Your bereavement is great, but cannot exceed mine.

                                                                                                “Yours truly,

                                                                                                                “U. S. GRANT.”

 

CLYDE is eight miles southeast of Fremont at the crossing of the L. S. & M. S., I. B. &W. and W. & L. E. Railroads.

 

City Officers, 1888: Mayor, H. F. PADEN; Clerk, Chas. H. EATON; Treasurer, E. D. HARKNESS; Marshall, John C. LETSON; Chief Fire Department, N. T. WILDER.  Newspapers: Enterprise, Independent, B. F. JACKSON & Co., editors and publishers; Farmer’s Reporter, Neutral, Reporter Co., editors and publishers.  Churches: 1 Baptist, 1 Episcopal, 1 Presbyterian, 1 Methodist, 1 Universal, 1 Catholic, 1 United Brethren, and 1 Advent.  Banks: Farmers’ & Traders’, S. M. TERRY, cashier; Peoples’ Banking Co., C. G. SANFORD, president, John C. BOLINGER, cashier.  Population, 1880, 2,380.  School census, 1888, 760; Frank M. GINN, Superintendent of Schools.

 

Clyde is a wholesome, cleanly appearing little town.  It has an enduring memory in having given to the nation, in the person of JAS. B. MCPHERSON, a great soldier and the best type of a gentleman.  The sites of the log-house in which he was born and the blacksmith shop where his father labored are both within the cemetery where to-day stands his monument and rests his mortal remains.

 

Clyde also was the birth-place of JAMES ALBERT WALES, caricaturist.  He was born there in 1852, died in 1896, and lies buried in the McPherson Cemetery.  He was a highly valued artist.  On the occasion of his funeral, A. B. FRENCH, an old resident of Clyde, delivered a touching eulogy upon his boyhood, and Rev. O. BADGLEY preached the funeral sermon.  “Appleton’s Cyclopaedia of American Biography” says of him: “He learned wood-engraving in Toledo and Cincinnati, thence going to Cleveland, drew cartoons for the Leader during the Presidential canvas of 1872.  Later he went to New York and engaged to illustrate Puck.  He eventually became one of the founders of The Judge, and was for some time its chief cartoonist.  WALES was the only caricaturist of the newer school who was a native American.  He was also clever at portraiture and his cartoons were excellent.

 

WOODVILE is fourteen miles northwest of Fremont, on the Portage River and on the N. W. O. R. R.  It was laid out in 1838 by Hon. A. E. WOOD on what was known on the Western Reserve and Maumee turnpike, being on the great travelled route between Cleveland to Toledo.  School census, 1888, 232.

 

GIBSONBURG is eleven miles northwest of Fremont on the N. W. O. R. R.  Population, 1880, 589.  School census, 1888, 217.  J. L. HART, Superintendent of Schools.

 

LINDSEY is seven miles northwest of Fremont on the L. S. & M. S. R. R.  Population, 1880, 409.  School census, 1888, 152.

 

TOWNSEND is five miles northeast of Clyde, on the I. B. &W. R. R.  Census, 1890, 1,358.

 

 

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