Complete Prose Works
fortunes, excitements--President Lincoln and the daily sight of him--the
doings in Congress and at the State Capitols--the news from the fields
and campaigns, and from foreign governments--my visits to the Army
Hospitals, daily and nightly, soon absorbing everything else,--with a
hundred matters, occurrences, personalties,--(Greeley, Wendell Phillips,
the parties, the Abolitionists, &c.)--were the subjects of our talk and
discussion. I am not sure from what I heard then, but O'C. was cut out
for a first-class public speaker or forensic advocate. No audience
or jury could have stood out against him. He had a strange charm of
physiologic voice. He had a power and sharp-cut faculty of statement and
persuasiveness beyond any man's else. I know it well, for I have felt
it many a time. If not as orator, his forte was as critic, newer, deeper
than any: also, as literary author. One of his traits was that while he
knew all, and welcom'd all sorts of great _genre_ literature, all lands
and times, from all writers and artists, and not only tolerated
each, and defended every attack'd literary person with a skill or
heart-catholicism that I never saw equal'd--invariably advocated and
excused them--he kept an idiosyncrasy and identity of his own very
mark'd, and without special tinge or undue color from any source. He
always applauded the freedom of the masters, whence and whoever. I
remember his special defences of Byron, Burns, Poe, Rabelais, Victor
Hugo, George Sand, and others. There was always a little touch of
pensive cadence in his superb voice; and I think there was something
of the same sadness in his temperament and nature. Perhaps, too, in
his literary structure. But he was a very buoyant, jovial, good-natured
companion.
So much for a hasty melanged reminiscence and note of William O'Connor,
my dear, dear friend, and staunch, (probably my staunchest) literary
believer and champion from the first, and throughout without halt or
demur, for twenty-five years. No better friend--none more reliable
through this life of one's ups and downs. On the occurrence of the
latter he would be sure to make his appearance on the scene, eager,
hopeful, full of fight like a perfect knight of chivalry. For he was a
born sample here in the 19th century of the flower and symbol of olden
time first-class knighthood. Thrice blessed be his memory! W. W.
Note: [48] Born Jan. 2d, 1832. When grown, lived several years in
Boston, and edited journals and magazines there--went about 1861 to
Washington, D. C., and became a U.S. clerk, first in the Light-House
Bureau, and then in the U.S. Life-Saving Service, in which branch he was
Assistant Superintendent for many years--sicken'd in 1887--died there at
Washington, May 9th, 1889.
AN ENGINEER'S OBITUARY
_From the Engineering Record, New York, Dec. 13, 1890_
Thomas Jefferson Whitman was born July 18, 1833, in Brooklyn, N. Y.,
from a father of English Stock, and mother (Louisa Van Velsor) descended
from Dutch (Holland) immigration. His early years were spent on Long
Island, either in the country or Brooklyn. As a lad he show'd a tendency
for surveying and civil engineering, and about at 19 went with Chief
Kirkwood, who was then prospecting and outlining for the great city
water-works. He remain'd at that construction throughout, was a favorite
and confidant of the Chief, and was successively promoted. He continued
also under Chief Moses Lane. He married in 1859, and not long after was
invited by the Board of Public Works of St. Louis, Missouri, to come
there and plan and build a new and fitting water-works for that great
city. Whitman accepted the call, and moved and settled there, and had
been a resident of St. Louis ever since. He plann'd and built the works,
which were very successful, and remain'd as super-intendent and chief
for nearly 20 years.
Of the last six years he has been largely occupied as consulting
engineer (divested of his cares and position in St. Louis,) and
has engaged in public constructions, bridges, sewers, &c., West and
Southwest, and especially the Memphis, Tenn., city water-works.
Thomas J. Whitman was a theoretical and practical mechanic of superior
order, founded in the soundest personal and professional integrity. He
was a great favorite among the young engineers and students; not a few
of them yet remaining in Kings and Queens counties, and New York city,
will remember "Jeff," with old-time good-will and affection. He was
mostly self-taught, and was a hard student.
He had been troubled of late years from a bad throat and from gastric
affection, tending on typhoid, and had been rather seriously ill with
the last malady, but was getting over the worst of it, when he succumb'd
under a sudden and severe attack of the heart. He died at St. Louis,
November 25, 1890, in his 58th year. Of his family, the wife died in
1873, and a daughter, Mannahatta, died two years ago. Another daughter,
Jessie Louisa, the only child left, is now living in St. Louis.
[When Jeff was born I was in my 15th year, and had much care of him for
many years afterward, and he did not separate from me. He was a very
handsome, healthy, affectionate, smart child, and would sit on my lap
or hang on my neck half an hour at a time. As he grew a big boy he liked
outdoor and water sports, especially boating. We would often go down
summers to Peconic Bay, east end of Long Island, and over to Shelter
Island. I loved long rambles, and he carried his fowling-piece. O,
what happy times, weeks! Then in Brooklyn and New York city he learn'd
printing, and work'd awhile at it; but eventually (with my approval) he
went to employment at land surveying, and merged in the studies and work
of topographical engineer; this satisfied him, and he continued at it.
He was of noble nature from the first; very good-natured, very plain,
very friendly. O, how we loved each other--how many jovial good times we
had! Once we made a long trip from New York city down over the Allegheny
mountains (the National Road) and via the Ohio and Mississippi rivers,
from Cairo to New Orleans.]
God's blessing on your name and memory, dear brother Jeff!
W. W.
OLD ACTORS, SINGERS, SHOWS, &C., IN NEW YORK
_Flitting mention--(with much left out)_
Seems to me I ought acknowledge my debt to actors, singers, public
speakers, conventions, and the Stage in New York, my youthful days,
from 1835 onward--say to '60 or '61--and to plays and operas generally.
(Which nudges a pretty big disquisition: of course it should be all
elaborated and penetrated more deeply--but I will here give only some
flitting mentionings of my youth.) Seems to me now when I look back, the
Italian contralto Marietta Alboni (she is living yet, in Paris, 1891,
in good condition, good voice yet, considering) with the then prominent
histrions Booth, Edwin Forrest, and Fanny Kemble and the Italian singer
Bettini, have had the deepest and most lasting effect upon me. I should
like well if Madame Alboni and the old composer Verdi, (and Bettini the
tenor, if he is living) could know how much noble pleasure and happiness
they gave me, and how deeply I always remember them and thank them
to this day. For theatricals in literature and doubtless upon me
personally, including opera, have been of course serious factors. (The
experts and musicians of my present friends claim that the new Wagner
and his pieces belong far more truly to me, and I to them, likely. But
I was fed and bred under the Italian dispensation, and absorb'd it, and
doubtless show it.)
As a young fellow, when possible I always studied a play or libretto
quite carefully over, by myself, (sometimes twice through) before
seeing it on the stage; read it the day or two days before. Tried both
ways--not reading some beforehand; but I found I gain'd most by getting
that sort of mastery first, if the piece had depth. (Surface effects and
glitter were much less thought of, I am sure, those times.) There were
many fine old plays, neither tragedies nor comedies--the names of them
quite unknown to to-day's current audiences. "All is not Gold that
Glitters," in which Charlotte Cushman had a superbly enacted part, was
of that kind. C. C., who revel'd in them, was great in such pieces; I
think better than in the heavy popular rôles.
We had some fine music those days. We had the English opera of
"Cinderella" (with Henry Placide as the pompous old father, an
unsurpassable bit of comedy and music.) We had Bombastes Furioso.
Must have been in 1844 (or '5) I saw Charles Kean and Mrs. Kean (Ellen
Tree)--saw them in the Park in Shakspere's "King John." He, of course,
was the chief character. She play'd _Queen Constance._ Tom Hamblin was
_Faulconbridge,_ and probably the best ever on the stage. It was an
immense show-piece, too; lots of grand set scenes and fine armor-suits
and all kinds of appointments imported from London (where it had been
first render'd.) The large brass bands--the three or four hundred
"supes"--the interviews between the French and English armies--the
talk with _Hubert_ (and the hot irons) the delicious acting of _Prince
Arthur_ (Mrs. Richardson, I think)--and all the fine blare and court
pomp--I remember to this hour. The death-scene of the King in the
orchard of Swinstead Abbey, was very effective. Kean rush'd in,
gray-pale and yellow, and threw himself on a lounge in the open. His
pangs were horribly realistic. (He must have taken lessons in some
hospital.)
Fanny Kemble play'd to wonderful effect in such pieces as "Fazio, or the
Italian wife." The turning-point was jealousy. It was a rapid-running,
yet heavy-timber'd, tremendous wrenching, passionate play. Such old
pieces always seem'd to me built like an ancient ship of the line, solid
and lock'd from keel up--oak and metal and knots. One of the finest
characters was a great court lady, _Aldabella_, enacted by Mrs. Sharpe.
O how it all entranced us, and knock'd us about, as the scenes swept on
like a cyclone!
Saw Hackett at the old Park many times, and remember him well. His
renderings were first-rate in everything. He inaugurated the true "Rip
Van Winkle," and look'd and acted and dialogued it to perfection (he was
of Dutch breed, and brought up among old Holland descendants in Kings
and Queens counties, Long Island.) The play and the acting of it have
been adjusted to please popular audiences since; but there was in that
original performance certainly something of a far higher order, more
art, more reality, more resemblance, a bit of fine pathos, a lofty
_brogue_, beyond anything afterward.
One of my big treats was the rendering at the old Park of Shakspere's
"Tempest" in musical version. There was a very fine instrumental band,
not numerous, but with a capital leader. Mrs. Austin was the _Ariel_,
and Peter Richings the _Caliban_; both excellent. The drunken song of
the latter has probably been never equal'd. The perfect actor Clarke
(old Clarke) was _Prospero_.
Yes; there were in New York and Brooklyn some fine non-technical singing
performances, concerts, such as the Hutchinson band, three brothers, and
the sister, the red-cheek'd New England carnation, sweet Abby; sometimes
plaintive and balladic--sometimes anti-slavery, anti-calomel, and comic.
There were concerts by Templeton, Russell, Dempster, the old Alleghanian
band, and many others. Then we had lots of "negro minstrels," with
capital character songs and voices. I often saw Rice the original "Jim
Crow" at the old Park Theatre filling up the gap in some short bill--and
the wild chants and dances were admirable--probably ahead of anything
since. Every theatre had some superior voice, and it was common to
give a favorite song between the acts. "The Sea" at the bijou Olympic,
(Broadway near Grand,) was always welcome from a little Englishman named