Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: Books and Bistro (Page 79 of 92)

Alice Walton and the Preacher.

When the Lord called Sherman Merrill, it was usually Long Distance. And the first call came early. As a newly-married 22-year-old Sherman was already in His service, leading a congregation at Whitehall, New York, the same town where a fleet of vessels was built to confront the British during the Revolution.

As a result of that latter fact, Whitehall is said to be the birthplace of the US Navy. It certainly was the starting point of a long career for Sherman Merrill, son of Elam, son of Benjamin, son of the immigrant Nathaniel Merrill, who had come to America during colonial times. It was a small town, Whitehall, and still is – located across the state line from Vermont, where the twins Willie and Alice would later be born.

The son of a long line of farmers, Sherman took up the cloth and found his first flock and a home with his young wife Cordelia around 1850. Things were looking up.

But the Lord kept calling.

Baby Adalaide was just two when a church in Massachusetts needed a pastor, and it was a short two years later when an invitation came from a congregation in Vermont. By the time his mission brought him back to New York state and the birth of baby John, Sherman headed a family of seven. In 1860, the family resettled in Greenwich, New York, already an important – if secret – stop on the Underground Railroad that carried slaves to freedom from the American South.

Then came the war.

Pastor Merrill was older than some of his comrades-in-arms, but he again offered his services when volunteers were sought for a troop of up-staters. The 177th New York Infantry marched down from New York to New Orleans, Louisiana to join the 3rd Brigade serving under General Sherman.

They took part in skirmishes at McGill’s ferry and Pontchtoula. 23 of Chaplain Merrill’s fellow volunteers lost their lives during the siege at Port Hudson. 149 others died of disease. Still, he never lost his faith.

When the war ended, Merrill rejoined his family and relocated them to Wisconsin, a move that was little more than a layover on their way to Gallatin, Tennessee. The Major was invited by a congregation in that city to head their Methodist Episcopal church. Cordelia Merrill, who spent her life raising children and keeping house for Pastor Merrill, left the family behind when she was buried in the Gallatin Cemetery.

Remarriage was common, particularly when there were young children in the home. And that brings us to the point of this little story.

Sherman Merrill married John Walton’s daughter, Susan, a girl half his age. Together they had three daughters – one of whom they named Alice – who grew into an artist who loved to read. Alice signed her name in a book that landed in the bookshop yesterday. You may recall there is an Alice Walton who is the tenth richest American. The daughter of Sam the Walmart man. I wondered if there was a connection.

There wasn’t.

Which presented the question: How did a copy of The Methods of Lady Walderhurst by Frances Hodgson Burnett (she also wrote The Secret Garden, from which a movie was made) – how did the book get to Broken Arrow from Gallatin, Tennessee?

As it turns out, it was by way of another New York native. Dr Les A. O’Brien found Alice in Tennessee, married her, and moved to the Indian Territory to open his practice. Tulsa was a booming community and the draw was strong enough that the in-laws packed up and moved west to join Dr and Mrs O’Brien. Later, Dr. O’Brien wound up moving his offices up the road to Skiatook, but the Waltons remained in Tulsa.

South of town, near Muskogee, a family named Clinton married into the Creek Nation and did well enough on their ranch that they opted to build a big place on the hill in Tulsa. Dr Fred Clinton and family made their home near 13th and Boulder while brother Lee constructed a mansion a half-mile to the west. His house sits there still, completed in 1913 at 1322 South Guthrie and now sitting on the National Register of Historic Properties.

Alice Walton Merrill’s sister Susan lived there. She had married Mr. Clinton, a banker of some note, and already a driving force in the growing city.

Alice and her sister Susan were included in the 1914 Who’s Who in America, which made note of their artistic and philanthropic works and identified them as belonging to the Methodist Episcopalian church.

Which did their daddy Pastor Sherman proud.

The book?

It’s a First Edition copy from 1901. A little threadbare – even for a 100+ year-old. Not so valuable as a result.

But it tells a tale all its own.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street

News Flash! (No. Not that kind of flash.)

Pssssst! Did ya hear the news?

Oooh! Oooh!

Sometimes the big news is just gossip. Hollywood stars and their antics. Scandals. There have always been those pesky scandals. Then – there was a time when gossip WAS the news.

Flash from the October 20, 1889 Bryan (TX) Eagle, which arrived in the mail this morning as part of a research project I’m working on:

Walter Whipprecht went to Austin yesterday.

Woo.

And from the same top-of-the-page column under the THURSDAY headline:

Major W. R. Cavitt went to Dallas yesterday. Squire J. M. Zimmerman of Kurten was in the city yesterday. W. B Hancock from Boston registered at the Exchange hotel yesterday.

Can you imagine the size of the Tulsa World if these items were still reported? But – it was news back then, why isn’t it news today?

Some things never change though. Under the CITY COUNCIL headline was this note:

A committee from the tire department appeared before the council and a somewhat lengthy discussion of differences was held, resulting in a postponement of action until the next council meeting.

That could have been written last night for this morning’s paper.

Writing styles change with the times. Some words from the 19th century just don’t make it into news copy any longer. For example, this bulletin from the Indian Territory:

THREE SHOT AT INDIAN DANCE

Ardmore, I.T. Oct 18 – During an Indian dance near Mill Creek, 30 miles from here, promiscuous shooting was indulged in by unknown persons.

Promiscuous shooting, you’ll note. Today, those unknown persons would be called “shooters.” Earlier, the term gunman was in favor. That one “went missing,” but back in the day it would have simply “disappeared.”

The accompanying picture shows the turn-of-the-century newspaper delivery system. The circulation department, if you will. These fine lads were set to send out the day’s edition of the Winfield, Kansas Daily Free Press. The clothes may have changed (and what I wouldn’t give for a couple of those stylish hats!) but the bicycles could pass for today’s rugged mountain bikes.

The photo is from 1914, just a few years beyond the great heyday of the bicycle – a sporting craze that began in the late 1880s and early 1890s. Before that, the newspaper delivery might have been on foot or horseback. Automobiles were still fairly uncommon, particularly on the roads in smaller towns like Winfield. (You’ll notice the lack of paving and the muddy tires on a couple of the bicycles.)

Oooh! Oooh!

This just in: John Henry was here from Payne Prairie yesterday!

Film at eleven. (Wait a minute. Film is out. Never mind.)

We’ve got books about the Old West and newspapers: Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St, Broken Arrow OK!

This Dedication goes out to…

Remember radio dedications? (I know many of you don’t – but play along with me here…)

Deejay: That one went out to Little Mary from her special someone…

Little Mary, listening to her plastic transistor receiver: Oh, brother – that’s the WRONG song! It’s OVER between us!

Those were the days, all-righty.

Before radio broadcasting, of course, there were different dedications. More paper oriented. Like – in books. Oh, the stories held between the covers of those books! Spies. Politics. Vampires. Forensics.

Romance.

And not confined to the chapters of the author’s plot.

Those dedications.

Like the book dedicated to the recently deceased Queen Victoria, who held the keys to the British palace (and Royal Watercloset) for nearly seventy years. When she died in 1901, publishers set about creating souvenir books they could sell. Talk all you want about remembering Her Highness – they really just wanted to make a buck. Er – pound, that is. Pounds and pence.

Even on this side of the Atlantic. You remember all the attention over Princess Diana and lately – the new Royal Baby. A ready-market for book printing.

Back in 1901, the World Bible House of Philadelphia published “The Life and Times of Queen Victoria.” The title actually encompasses four paragraphs of such things as Early Life, Charming Home Life, Wonderful Growth of the British Empire, Etc. (The Etc isn’t mine; it is actually included on the title page.)

A pretty nice book for its time, in truth. Embellished, it says, with more than 100 Superb Engravings.

More than 600 pages, it says.

But – in fact, it’s a pretty skinny little book. That’s because it’s a salesman’s copy. In those days, many books were sold by subscription. Sort of like buying Girl Scout Thin Mints before they’re actually baked and boxed. In front of the book’s back cover are about half a dozen blank pages, lined like a high-school spiral notebook. Subscriber’s pages. If you wanted to buy the actual book, you’d put your name and address down in the same way we do with our Girl Scout Cookie salespeople. In the case of this book – $1.75 for the fine cloth binding. $2.75 for the book in Genuine Full Morocco Leather with gilt (gold) titles and page edges. (Go for the leather!)

No subscriber names are included in this copy, but on the last free page after the back-page ad is an inscription that would have been lost to time except I checked thoroughly to see if anyone had signed up to buy one.

You can click on the image to read what “Miss Effie DeWitt Cooperstown” penciled in. (Or you can just read my transcription right here: “Always remember Sunday Sept the 21 – 1902 at Versailles. It was there that E. G. Tarrant & E. M. Dewitt met, and won one another.”

Since she calls herself Effie DeWitt, I assumed the two must have married after pitching woo. (That was the way they said it – before even MY time.) It isn’t clear what Cooperstown she is from or what they were doing in Versailles. Or even which state (or country) Versailles is located. Heck, it might have been the Versailles Restaurant in Miami, Florida: home of traditional Cuban dishes in a casual atmosphere. (And why would those Hispanic dishes be served in a place called Versailles, in Miami Florida? One of life’s mysteries!)

Wait! Perhaps HE is Mr. Tarrant, and she’ll become the Mrs. later! Ahhhh – Using only initials: more intrigue and deceit!

Regardless, I have good feeling about Miss Effie. (I told you there are stories to be found in these old books!)

Then, there is the other inscription in a second volume encountered today, which caused me a double take. I’m blaming it on the handwriting. It’s found on the first end page inside the front cover of a book of Tennyson’s poems, given over on Christmas day with these words:

To Jennie E. Dudley – by her faithful underrated husband. Dec. 25, 1879.

Oooh. There’s some sarcasm! Read in some strong irony there! A little nudge, nudge…

What?

Oh.

Make that – faithful and devoted husband.

A completely different story.

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