The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 8, No. 3006, Ed. 1 Monday, August 14, 1911 Page: 3 of 4
four pages : ill. ; page 22 x 15 in. Scanned from physical pages.View a full description of this newspaper.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
PI
wm
New News ’
Of YESTEKOAir
intire Speech In Italics
»rlnce” John Van Buren’s Famous
|Herkimer Address That Resulted
In the Election of Zacharay
Taylor as President.
[in 1848 General Lewis Case was the
[gular Democratic nominee for the
|esideney. Zacharay Taylor was the
lminec of the Whigs. The Free-
Ill Democracy, composed of that
pment in the Democratic party
aich was opposed to the extension
| slavery In the territories, had made
informal organization in 1847. The
Ipe was that the Free Soil move-
pnt would be so nourished that its
awth would justify an organization
Jtich would nominate a Free Soil
Imocrat as candidate for president
|e expectation was that if this could
done ex-President Martin Van
[ren would be the candidate.
The first important and formal step
ken by Free Soilers in New York)
[te to perfect an organization was
calling of a great mass meeting to
[held in the village of Herkimer, a
miles east of Utica. The an-
bncement was made that “Prince”
|t Van Buren, Martin Van Buren’s
, one of the most brilliant of cam-
ion orators, had consented to make
chief speech at this meeting,
[led specifically for the purpose of
Janizing a bolting movement against
regular Democratic nomination
ie at the state convention of that
imer.
|I remember very well the excite-
it which was caused by the an-
[mcement that ‘Prince’ John Van
ren was to speak at a great bolting
Iss meeting at Herkimer,” said Dr.
[Prentiss Bailey, editor of the Utica
[server, with \VTfich he has been in
itinuous service for over sixty
s.rs. “Prince John was the idol
I the younger Democracy at that
te, and he was certain always to
|.am a large audience wherever he
jared to make a political speech,
it was well know •_ that at this
rkimer meeting Prince John would
|nd the bugle call to which Free
jl Democrats, it was expected, would
jtantly respond, and in such num-
fs that it would be practicable to
linate Martin Van Buren for pres-
it a few months later. Of course
ms known that if Martin Van Bu-
were nominated he would probably
receive votes enough to prevent the
election of Lewis Cass and secure the
election of Zacharay Taylor.
"The young fellows in our printing
office were told that h they would hur-
ry up with their work they would be
permitted to go to Herkimer and see
and hear Prince John, and that tick-
ets would be given to them for that
purpose.
“Several hundred of the citizens of
Utica went to Herkimer. Democrats
from all the surrounding districts
poured into the town. There were so
many of them, in fact, that is was
found necessary to abandon the hall
which had been hired for the address
and permission was obtained to use
the great railroad freight house for
the meeting. That enormous build-
ing was speedily filled within a few
moments after the doors were opened.
Prince John Van Buren was escorted
into the building, and he asked that
they find some quiet place for him,
if they could, while the meeting was
being organized.
“The best they could do was to show
him into a remote corner. He sat
down upon a bench, and, having tak-
en the manuscript of his speech from
J
his pocket, began to read rapidly and
ir an under tone some extracts from
it to his friends. Prince John had a
remarkable power of sarcasm and vitu-
peration. In his speech he had fo-
cussed that power upon the so-called
‘Albany regency,’ which was the cen-
tral body of the regular Democratic
organization.
“Having read one of the paragraphs
which was saturated with sarcastic
humor, Prince John was asked by his
friends to read it over again. He was
willing to do that, being pleased that
the paragraph should have so strong-
ly appealed to his friends.
“When he finished one of the little
audience said -o him: ‘Mr. Van Bu-
ren, that paragraph ought to be in
italics.’.
“ ‘By heaven, sir, the whole speech
is in italics, and is Intended to be,'
Van Buren replied. ‘It will make or
break the Free Soil Democracy.’
“The speech served to stimulate in-
to intense enthusiasm the Free Soil
Democracy of New York. It made the
Tuffalo convention, which nominated
Martin Van Buren for president and
Charles Francis Adams for vice-presi-
dent. possible. It served to create the
national Free Soil Democracy, and it
was the vote of this party which de-
feated Cass for president.”
(Copyright, 1911, by E. J. Edwards. All
Rights Reserved.)
When Lincoln Met Hamlin
Martyred President’s First Running
Mate Was Not Acquainted With
Him Until After They Had
Been Nominated.
Hannibal Hamlin, four times United
States senator from Maine, once gov-
ernor of that state, and vice-president
during Lincoln’s first administration,
told me in tfhe winter of 1891 the story
of his first personal meeting with
Abraham Lincoln; and the words he
used then to describe that meeting
were practically the Last I heard him
speak. I never saw him again, his
death occurring a few months later
when he was in his eighty-third year.
I had asked Mr. Hamlin if he had
ever seen Mr. Lincoln prior to 1861.
‘Yes,” was the answer, “Mr. Lincoln
and I were in congress at the same
time. When he was serving his only
term In the house, I finished my clos-
helped Save Mt. Vernon
Edward Everett Gave Receipts
from Writing and Lecturing to
Fund for Securing Washing-
ton’s Home and Tomb.
Ither by the aid of congress, or
iugh private subscriptions, the es-
of Mount Vernon upon the Po-
le, upon which stand the home
[tomb of Washington and his wife,
; soon be improved and the whole
te redeemed from the evidences
gmoralization which of late years
)characterized it.
ie attempt to restore Mount Ver-
and to perfect it, according to
[plans of the Mount Vernon asso-
lon, will bring to the minds of
[y persons now well along in years
lanner in which Mount Vernon,
fears ago, was secured in perpe-
by the Ladies’ Mount Vernon
ilation, organized in the midfif-
with intent to secure, preserve
^hold in trust, as a place of na-
interest, the home and tomb of
lington.
[e late Robert Bonner, at one time
iroprietor of what was the most
Issful periodical published in the
3d States, was once asked If it
true that the largest amount he
paid for a single contribution
the $5,000 which he gave Charles
3ns for a short story,
paid Edward Everett $10,000 for
[eekly article which was to run
rear; that was at the rate of a
k under $200 an article,” said Mr.
?r. “Mr. Everett was to write
whatever topic he chose, and 1
limit him as to the number of
The articles averaged a little
I- a column.
fhen it was announced that Ed-
Everett, one of the most bril-
orators of his time, who had
[governor of Massachusetts, mln-
* to England, secretary of state
rillmore, United States senator
president of Harvard, was to
a series of article for the Led-
fa. good deal of surprise was ex-
reed, but it speedily became
known that Mr. Everett had prom-
ised to turn over the entire $10,000
to the association which had been or-
ganized to preserve the estate of
Mount Vernon for the American peo-
ple. Then the interest in his literary
work was greatly increased, and this
announcement did as much as any one
thing to secure for the Mount Vernon
association the money needed to buy
that estate.
“It should be a source of some grati-
fication to American writers,” Mr.
Bonner continued, “that Washington's
home and tomb have been preserved
chiefly through the contributions
made by literary men and women be-
tween 1855 and 1860. Almost every
author of note contributed something.
Mr. Everett himself delivered a lec-
ture on Washington at least 100 times
and turned the entire receipts over to
the Mount Vernon association. My
recollection is that the receipts
amounted to about $50,000. If they did,
then he contributed, by his pen and
his lecture, $60,000 to the Mount Ver-
non fund.
“Mr. Everett, I know, wa3 very
proud of his success as an orator
and writer in aid of the Mount Ver-
non fund. I do not know whether
there Is any visible memorial to Mr.
Everett, and to the others who assist-
ed in raising the needed money, but
it has always seemed to me that It
would be appropriate In some visible
way to make acknowledgment of this
service."
(Copyright, 1911, by E. J. Edwards. All
flights Reserved.)
On His Own Account.
Johnny’s father is a lawyer, but
Johnny means to be either a prize
fighter or an engineer. Said the
shocked visitor who believes that
children should not possess personal
opinions:
“Fie fie, sonny! Don’t you want to
follow in your father’s footsteps?”
“No,” was the lad’s unabashed ans-
wer, “I’d rather make tracks of my
own.”
ing term in that body and got ac-
quainted with my duties as senator.
But though for many days we both
worked in the capitol, arid for some
time sat in the legislative hall, Mr.
Lincoln and 1 never had a personal
meting. 1 do not recall when I first
had my attention called to Mr. Lin-
coln as a member of congress, but
I know I was greatly impressed by a
speech which he made—I think it was
in 1848—in which he declared himself
earnestly in favor of the exclusion of
slavery from the territories. His
views on that momentous subject were
the same as mine; and my views I
expressed in one or two speeches
made at about the same time as the
Lincoln speech 1 speak of. However,
though we stood on the same ground
through some freak of fortune we did
not meet. Yet, after Mr. Lincoln was
nominated for president and I for vice-
president, we both had a peculiar
sense of personal acquaintance, the
explanation of which was made mu-
tually on the occasion of my visit to
Mr. Lincoln at Springfield. 111.
“Many of the leading Republicans
of that time had never met Mr. Lin-
coln, and for that reason he was
called upon almost every day by Re-
publicans who had come from all
parts of the United States north of
Mason and Dixonfri line. As soon as
the presidential ticket was nominated,
I determijrrid that, at the first con-
venient raroment I would go to Spring-
field and call upon Mr. Lincoln, al-
though I Avas sure I knew something
of the ability and character of the
man which had led the Republican
convention to nominate him for presi-
dent.
“li'lve minutes after I had met Mr.
Lincoln, it seemed to me that we had
been acquainted for years. He was
perfectly natural, unassuming, unpre-.
tentious. As we chatted, I saw that
he was measuring my height with his
eye, and I thought that he was grati-
fied to discover that, although I was
tall, he was a little taller.
“Pretty soon Mr. Lincoln left off
talking about general matters, and
asked me if we had ever met before.
I replied that I had no recollection
of our having met previously; that if
we had I was sure I should recall the
circumstances. ‘But, Mr. Lincoln,’ I
added, ‘though this Is our first meet-
ing, I nevertheless feel well acquaint-
ed with you, for it has been one of
my most vivid recollections of public
men that you, when a member of con-
gress, made the ablest speech I can
remember in defense of free soil.’
‘‘‘Why,’ said Mr. Lincoln, ‘that is a
curious circumstance, for while I do
not remember ever having met you
personally, I have had constantly in
remembrance the speech you made In
the senate as a Free Soil Democrat,
and I said at the time: ‘Senator Ham-
lin’s views upon that subject and mine
are practically alike.' ”
“That, sir, was a feature of my first
personal meeting with Abraham Lin-
coln,” continued Mr. Hamlin, “and
then began a political and personal
association and friendship which was
maintained and constantly strength-
ened until the day of the death of
that great man.”
(Copyright, 1911, by E. J. Edwards, ^1)
Rights Reserved.)
Through the Pantry Window
—--->•
By CLAUDINE SISSON
On a certain chill October after-
noon, which was brightened only by
a flare of crimson leaves on all the
maples and the ever-present tangles
of aster and goldenrod along the
bushy banks, Elsie turned her horse
in at a rickety picket gate and dis-
mounted before the porch of a tiny,
shabby, neglected house. With the
reins upon her arm she stood look-
ing about her with tender, remember-
ing eyes.
Tears came to Elsie’s eyes'as she
thought of the dear woman who had
animated it with her kindly presence.
The thin old horse, a freckled gray
from the livery stable in town, was
pulling at the reins in an effort to get
his nose to the grass. Elsie sought
for' some place to make him secure
and remembered the little barn. If
the door was not nailed up she could
put him In there.
The door was not nailed up. It
slid open easily and she led the horse
in and tied him to the stall which
had held only cobwebs and hay dust
for a long time. . A little hay re-
mained in one corner. She carried it
to the horse, who received it as
eagerly as if it had been the frgshest
of fodder. Then she went to the
house.
It was locked securely. She went
about trying the shutters. At last she
found one partly off the hinges—
blown off by a high wind, no doubt.
She swung'it clear and put her hand
to the window underneath. To her
surprise, it raised as she pushed upon
it She seemed to hear a familiaj-
voice saying in her ear:
“The ketch on that pantry window
needs fixing bad, but I can’t seem to
do it. But, la! -what difference does
It make? There ain’t no burglar com-
ing in here for the little trash I’ve
got.
Aunt Hope’s dear voice! Aunt
Hopes’ own remembered words! And
this was the pantry window. Elsie
looked in. The tiny place was neat,
the cupboard doors shut; an old iron
spider hung against the wall. It
looked perfectly natural and right,
quite as if Aunt Hope had just step-
ped out. Clarissa Mains, the heiress,
bad left some things as they should
be.
The window-sill was only knee-high
from the ground, and Elsie climbed
aver It easily. She let down the win-
dow behind her. The floor gave back
an empty sound beneath her feet as
she walked across it to the kitchen.
The kitchen, too, was quite unchang-
ed.
After the dining-room came the par-
lor. the room that in Aunt Hope’s
lifetime Elsie had always loved best.
It was a good-sized room In the front
of the house. She lifted a window
md turned the slats of the closed
shutter. The yellow afternoon light
came in across the bare floor. In-
numerable motes danced in its rays.
Upon the walls a few old pictures
still hung, and the wall paper showed
fresh spaces upon its faded surface
where others had been. There was a
what-not in one corner; a few chairs
waited as if for occupants; a shell
and a large cheap vase were upon the
mantel. Of all Aunt Hope’s treas-
ured parlor furnishings these things
only remained.
Elsie sat down upon one of the ap-
pealing chairs and clasped her hands
in their riding-gauntlets about her
knee. There was a chill of fireless-
ness and stale air in the room, but
she did not feel it She was thinking
of the last time she had been in this
room. There had been flowers in the
room and many people. In the midst
lay Aunt Hope, always hitherto so
gracious and genial, so quick to re-
spond to the loVe of her friends and
neighbors. Her hands were crossed
upon a flower; her lips smiled a new
little smile of understanding of men’s
ways and of God’s. Above the hush-
ed sound of tears rose a dignified
voice: "I am the resurrection and
the life.”
How vividly she remembered it all!
She had sat here and he had sat
there with Aunt Hope between. And
though they both looked at Aunt
Hope tearfully they would not look at
each other. How pavle he had been!
And, perhaps, she, too. had been ju’st
as pale under her veil. Well, it was
over. Of what use was it to regret?
Yet Elsie knew how anxiously Aunt
Hope had longed for them to be
friends again, how strongly she had
advised their making up their foolish
quarrel.
"You are both young and high-
tempered,” she had pleaded again
and again, “but there’ll come a time
when you’ll be old and remorseful un-
less you make up now. Why. you are
made for each other,1 Elsie, You’ll
never be happy with anyone else, nor
will David. He’s a splendid young
fellow. Don’t 1 know? Wasn’t I with
his mother the night he was born
and haven’t I watched him grow up
from baby to man? And haven’t I
watched you grow up, too? And I
love you both. I’ve tried to have you
care for each other because I felt
that was as it should be. And now
you’ve let tkat little trollop of a
Doris Kennedy come between you!:
Oh, I knew what folks say about me
—that I am a meddling old match-
maker—”
“Peacemaker, Aunt Hope,” Elsie
had laughed tremulously.
“Well, then, peacemaker, I hope I
am. Blessed—you know what the
Bible says. But I ain’t sure of that
unless you’ll let me make peace be-
tween you and David!”
“Some day,” Elsie had half prom-
ised. That was a year ago. Then
they had met at Aunt Hope’s funeral
and had not spoken. Afterward Da-
vid had gone back to the city to hia
work and Elsie had gone to hers In
the little country town, as far as
she knew now, her romance was end-
ed. There was no Aunt Hope to ad-
vise and gently smooth away the dif-
ficulty. But, oh, the sweetness and
the bitterness of it lingered with her
like mingled myrrh and money. She
had loved David—she loved him still
—and must go on loving him as long
as she lived. But she had the Ben-
nett temper. He had it, too, for back
somewhere, a couple of generations
ago, a certain marriage had made
them kin. She would not give up.
Neither would he. And it was all be-
cause she had not liked his city cous-
in, Doris Kennedy, and he had! Per-
haps down in her heart Elsie had
been a bit jealous of the blonde
young woman who looked as if she
had been run in an exceeding slender
mold and had never so much as bent
her back since—an effect obtained, it
was said, by means of an exacting
dressmaker. Elsie was far too nat-
ural to admire Doris' immobility,
loads of false hair and layers of pink
and white powder. And she had told
David so in a none too pleasant way.
“But her heart is all right,” he had
argued stoutly. “Doris Is a good girl.
The trouble is, you are envious of
her, that’s all.”
“Envious!” cried Elsie, scarlet with
rage. So the quarrel had begun. And
it had ended in David going his way
and Elsie hers.
As she sat there now in the empty
room Elsie owned to herself sadly
that she had been unreasonable.
After all, Doris was David’s own cous-
in and older than he. There had been
no reason in the world for her being
jealous—as she had been; yes, she
had to admit that now.
“If only I had listened to Aunt
Hope. If only I had let her make
peace as she wished-”
A crash at the back of the house
startled her. A window had fallen!
She sprang to her feet. Steps were
coming toward her through the house
—heavy steps—a man’s. Now they
were in the kitchen—now the dining-
room. She plunged toward the door
that opened into- the little front entry.
It was locked. She tugged at it fran-
tically. Heaven! To be shut in this
house with a tramp. Still tugging,
with futile desperation, at th,e un-
yielding door she looked back over
her shoulder just as the invader ap-
peared in the parlor door—a tall
young fellow in ri respectable ulster,
who looked almost as white and
shaken as she knew she was.
“Elsie!” he exclaimed. “Great
Scott!”
“David!” she gasped. And half fell
against the supporting door. They
stared at each other, the color slowly
coming back to their faces.
“Did you get in at the pantry win-
dow, too?” Elsie asked, when she
could.
He nodded.
“I remembered that Aunt Hope was
always going to have it fixed and
never did. What are you doing here,
Elsie?” He came close to her.
“What are you?"
' “I came because I had to. I felt
as if I was being called.”
“David! That’s just the way I
felt.”
Their eyes sought each other’s,
awestruck, wondering. Then their
hands met.
“Forgive me, Elsie. I was wrong.”
he faltered.
“Forgive me, David, I wras wrong,
too.”
Tfiey clung together.
“I didn’t care for Doris. But she
was my cousin-”
“I know. I know.”
She was in his arms now. And he
had kissed her.
“David,” Elsie said, from his shoul-
der, solemnly, “do you suppose—that
she, Aunt Hope, drew us here today?”
His eyes had the look of one who
had been very near the holy things.
“Who knows?” he answered, very
low. “Blessed are the peacemakers 1"
L
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Vernor, J. E. The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 8, No. 3006, Ed. 1 Monday, August 14, 1911, newspaper, August 14, 1911; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth911035/m1/3/: accessed June 28, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Lampasas Public Library.