Paternal Recollections by Robert Bennett Wynkoop.
Paternal Recollections
by
Robert Bennett Wynkoop.

    I would like to express my thanks to John L. Wynkoop, [email protected], of Hollywood, Florida, one of Henry William Wynkoop's descendants, for sending me this remarkable and moving tribute written by Henry's son, Robert Bennett Wynkoop.

    As you may have guessed, I have had the privilege of reading a great number of things about family members over the years, but none have touched me the way this one has. "Benny" lays his heart bare here in a way that very few of us ever will.

    A few notes on this edition:

    This plain typescript came with no pictures or photographs, and frankly it doesn't really need them. Benny's words speak for themselves. However, I was fortunate enough to receive a portrait of Henry William Wynkoop from John that I wanted to add to this piece and later came across a few other pictures which I thought would add another dimension to this remembrance, since it also treats with local Ohio history that not everyone may be familiar with. I've tried to keep the intrusions to a minimum. Hopefully I've succeeded.

    This manuscript came from the Crestline Shunk Museum in Crestline, Ohio, who also have a grandfather clock that belonged to Henry William Wynkoop which was built by his father, Gerardus. John has sent me photos of this clock and sometime in the near future you should be able to find copies of them under the "Wynkoop Artifacts" webpage. John would like to hear from anyone who has more information on Henry William's descendants and can be contacted at [email protected].

    In the meantime, however, prepare to be moved.

    All my best,

    Chris


PATERNAL RECOLLECTIONS.

********

Henry William Wynkoop

    Henry William Wynkoop, the seventh and youngest child of Gerardus and Nancy Farrell Wynkoop, was born at Zanesville, Ohio, on December 31st, 1837. His father was of the Eighth generation of the Wynkoop family, descendants of Peter Wynkoop, whom it is assumed, was the founder of the family in this country. The first trace of the name which has been discovered in the United States of America, is in 1639, found in certain court proceedings. The name appears to be a contraction of WYNKOOPER, which in the Dutch language, signifies wine merchant. In modern Dutch the spelling would be WIJNKOOPER and William Sewell, in his Dictionary, 1754, says that the word WYNKOOP was used in the sense of "Something to drink upon the bargain; or, the gain of a wager to be spent in drink." A curious and suggestive engraving, upon copper-plate, still in existence, appears to be designed as a coat of arms, yet the crest is the only part which savors of heraldry. Two distinct prints, identical in substance, but differing circumstantially, have been preserved in as many branches of the family; one with female supporters to the Shield, and the names of either Cornelius C. Wynkoop or Augustus Wynkoop associated with it; the other having the name of Peter Wynkoop. The crest bears the motto: "VIRTUTEM HILARITATE COLERE" -- To adorn excellence with joyousness. -- is still preserved upon a piece of silverware. The family name of Wynkoop is borne by a bay in the southerly coast of Java, near the westerly end of the island. This must be a memento of some navigator, or merchant, or landed proprietor. These early historical facts are related herein because, my father, Henry William Wynkoop, the subject of this sketch, always exhibited great pride in any reference to the family name, as being a Dutch one and therefore from Holland. He was so extremely proud of this fact, that he always insisted upon the correct spelling of the name and particularly sensitive as to any improper pronounciation of it. As for instance, during the time when he was Assistant Superintendent of Telegraph, he hired all of the telegraph operators, and if one applying for a job happened to mis-pronounce his name as WINNKOOP - or spelled it WINECOOP - he perhaps got no job.

    The Wynkoop family have the unique distinction of being the only colonial family in this country, who have a printed record of their family history, with their descendants dating from the arrival of their progenitor in America in the year 1639. Our country is fast coming to a state where there is a general appreciation of an authentic colonial pedigree. In years to come, the name of Wynkoop will bear distinction and be an insoluble heritage.

    Although my father often related incidents of his boyhood days at his home in Zanesville, Ohio, many interesting ones have slipped from memory now, almost thirty nine years after his demise - Sep. 16th, 1887. One of the happenings of which he often liked to speak, was the sinking of a steamboat in the middle of the Muskingum River, not far from Zanesville, on which he and his mother were passengers, on a return trip from Pittsburgh, Pa, where they had been to visit the eldest son, Mat[t]hew Bennett, who had begun his business career there, in the printing business. The boat sank rapidly and it seemed a miracle that all aboard were not lost, as many were, both he and his mother having been among those rescued, and brought ashore.

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Blennerhassett Island

    In connection with this disaster, he would refer to the Island of Blennerhassett, so that I am not quite certain as to the exact location of the sinking of the steamer. The story of Blennerhassett was an interesting one, as he told it, and being historical may prove entertaining at this time, as he had become quite a celebrated personage in the United States because of his movements with Col. Burr during the years of 1805-1806. Who was Blennerhassett? In answer to this question - it was an assumed name by an individual whose true name was Lewis Carr and who was born in Ireland. His family were highly respected and an elder brother filled the station of secretary to the Governor of Calcutta, in the East Indies, to which place young Lewis went as ensign in the engineer department, where he remained about two years. He then located in the city of Kingston, in the Island of Jamaica where he read law and commenced the practice and also engaged in merchandizing by which means, and a secret connection with the buccaneers and pirates who hovered round the West Indian Islands and on the coast of Mexico, he amassed a splendid fortune, which he spent with equal profusion. --

Harmen Blennerhassett

    While employed in this business he frequently visited Mexico and became acquainted with many of the leading men who were preparing the way for a revolution, which Carr foresaw must break out in a short time, and being a bold unprincipled foreigner, he perpetually engaged in difficulties of one kind or another, until shortly before he came to the United States, an intrigue with the wife of one of the wealthy citizens of Kingston, made that place too hot for him, and he sold out his property and came to the United States. He landed at New Orleans, and went thence to Louisville, Ky, where, in the section, he purchased some property, and finally located himself on the celebrated island, of Blennerhassett, in the Ohio river, near Marietta. When he reached New Orleans, he assumed the name of Blennerhassett. The beautiful and accomplished lady who accompanied and lived with him, was not his wife. She was young, and had many fascinating accomplishments, which made her more worthy of Blennerhassett than he was of her. Col. Burr first saw Blennerhassett early in the year 1805 and was given such an elaborate account of Mexico's wealth and disposition for revolution, as seduced him into the project of invading it; and the question as to whom should be the great man, was one reserved by Lewis Carr, (Blennerhassett), until future events should develop themselves, as Carr always declared to his friends that he intended Col. Burr as the chief of the military which was to advance him to the supreme command in Mexico.

    After their projected invasion in Mexico had failed and Blennerhassett had broken up at the island, he removed to New Orleans, where he left the lady who had been his companion, and he embarked for the Island of New Providence, one of the Bahamas, in the West Indies, and settled at Nassau, its capital, and recommenced the practice of law. In a short time he obtained a lucrative practice, and married a lady of one of the most respectable families of this place, and was soon after disturbed by a visit from his Blennerhassett Island companion, who gave him much trouble before he could get her to retire in peace, which she did, and soon after returned to the United States and became a resident of the Southern States. Carr eventually left his wife and once more returned to the United States in 1833 and landed in Philadelphia where he for the last time visited Col. Burr and soon after died in obscurity there.

    Father's youngest brother, John B. Wynkoop, had grown up to be a young man in his teens, and noted locally as a writer, having become an editor of a newspaper, but unfortunately had passed away at the age of eighteen years. Considerable had been

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written at this time as to the Island of Blennerhassett, and father took delight in reading aloud a poem composed by his brother John entitled - THE BEAUTIFUL ISLE, the first verse of which read as follows:

"Oh bright were the dew drops, as the glittering light
Of morn, steals o'er the raven banners of night,
When dripping in gold -- rose the God of Day,
And the silvery mist seemed like the Castilian spray.
The heart beat with transport -- half trembling with fears --
Expectation at highest -- "Isle of Beauty" appears: -
And the traveller, who wearied full many a mile,
Is refreshed at the sight of the Beautiful Isle --"

(Written after passing Blennerhassett Island on board the steamer OREGON, April 6th, 1844 by the late J. B. Wynkoop.)

    Grandma Wynkoop died in 1868 and while I can recall somewhat indistinctly accompanying father to attend the funeral, he would frequently refreshen my memory by relating, which seemed to him a very amusing incident enroute, although the mission was a sad one for him. Our home was then in Crestline, Ohio, from whence we journeyed by rail and the rain had fallen during the night which left little puddles of water wherever the water could remain any length of time before being absorbed by the earth or evaporated by the Sun. I was but five years of age then, and the passengers in the car, who occupied seats near father and myself, seemed, as often related by him afterward, to enjoy my prattling tongue, as I, child-like gazed in wonderment out the car window at all I could observe while the train sped along through the beautiful section of country passed. This noticable attention to his first born baby boy was very pleasing to him, being, as he was always, extremely proud of his children and when at one of the stations the train stopped, I loudly enquired if there were alligators in those little pools of water -- the foot-prints left by cattle after the rain had softened the roadways into mud. All listeners laughed at my childhood innocence, causing my father to remark, "Benny is a great boy," whereupon one of the passengers asked me, what made me great and I promptly replied: "Because I do things," so after such a bright retort, as my father thought, coming from his "FIRST BORN" he then and there became enthused with the idea, the same as all other fathers, no doubt, that he was bringing forth the future President of the United States, but alas, Benny is still running for office, and ever so many, many long miles to go yet. To my recollection, our arrival in Zanesville, occured towards evening, and my grandmother's body had not yet been placed in a casket. She was one of unusual height and being laid out on chairs, and covered with a white sheet made an everlasting impression upon me, for in those days the friends and neighbors came in to attend until the undertaker had obtained and delivered the casket for burial, etc. My grandfather had already passed away and I can now find no record of the date of his demise, although I have a copy of his last will and testament dated at Zanesville April 14th, 1860 and grandma had since lived in the old homestead alone. Father and his brother Bennett, of the firm now known as The Wynkoop-Hallenbeck-Crawford Company, Printers, N. Y. City were the only surviving children, and both were in attendance at the burial, which took place in the family plot in Zanesville. The old home then had to be abandoned and a few keepsakes were taken back to Crestline with us. One of these, a parrot, tenderly cared for, for a number of years by grandmother, of which she was very fond because

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of the fact that her son James, who served as a soldier in the war with Mexico, had brought it home with him, when discharged from military service [on] account of illness. The bird was made more dear to her too, by reason of her son James' death not long afterward, the exposures in war service having produced hasty consumption. Polly, as the parrot had been named became quite friendly with my father, whom my mother had nicknamed "HAL" and by which name she invariably addressed him, so that Polly soon learned to say "HAL" very distinctly, always greeting his home-coming with such exclamations as: "Hal -- Polly wants a cracker," etc. He often took Polly from her cage and allowed her to climb around his shoulders and perch on his finger, but none other ventured to do likewise, as the bird was inclined to bite at the least provocation. Father, the same as most railroad men of his time, had acquired the use of profanity, especially in anger, and from him, Polly had learned to speak the word DAMN quite plainly and made frequent use of it in her schreechings. One day, when carpenters were engaged in building a summer kitchen on to the rear of our house, father picked up a hammer to drive a nail. He was left-handed in all things except in the use of a pen or pencil for writing, and in driving the nail, struck and mashed his thumb, causing outcries of profanity to unusual excess. I was standing near, and began to laugh at his activity in jumping about and wringing his hand, which provoked him to such an extent that he immediately proceeded to take his spite out on me, as if I had been the cause of the accident. He grabbed me and while in the act of beating me severely, Polly commenced to yell: "Damn you, Hal -- Damn you Hal," etc., which angered him all the more and whereupon he relinquished his hold on me to go after poor Polly. He opened the door of her cage and tried to pull her out, but she climbed to the top of the cage and suddenly caught his finger in her bill and she bit it savagely, which forced him to quickly jerk his hand away. He now became so mad with rage that he picked up the cage -- Polly and all -- and threw it over my head into the woodshed nearby and this made Polly scream and swear all the louder. My mother, having heard the commotion hastened to the scene, and kissing away my tears, took Polly in her cage into the kitchen for fresh coffee and bread, and tenderly dressed the mashed thumb and bit finger, so that all was once more harmonious and calm.

19th Century Circus Parade

    In those days, the same as now perhaps, when a circus came to town, the people flocked from all directions, to see it, and I know of none that my father ever missed, and he generally took the entire family. My sister Agnes and I were the older children and on one occasion, when mother had to remain at home, only father, Agnes and myself attended Barnum's Circus. It had rained hard the night before, causing the ground over which the tents had to be erected, to become soft and muddy. Of course, father, in his eagerness to see to the best advantage, selected seats on the top tier, and near the entrance through which the animals paraded for the opening scene around the ring. Agnes was dressed in white and I in a suit of buff. The band began playing the opening overture, as the animals - elephants, lions, etc. - from the menangerie were ushered in, and father, who was seated in between Agnes and I, in his excitement, forgot us, while Agnes lost her balance and dropped down into the muddy soil below, a distance of several feet. Of course I too, was all excitement, clapping my hands with glee, when all of a sudden, Agnes was missed and discovered scrambling around below. Father became frantic and commanded me to climb down to help her up. But, as the mud was so thick, I was prevented in affording much aid, or at least as quickly as desired, so that my nice clean buff suit was soon a sight to behold. However, I finally succeded in helping Agnes back to her seat and we enjoyed the circus as best we could

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under the circumstances, but after reaching home, I was given a good beating because I had been caught laughing at the monkeys riding on backs of elephants, but suspected of laughing over Agnes' unfortunate predicament while struggling in the mud, with which she was well covered, even to having it besmeared through her beautifully curled hair. Circuses have proven quite unattractive to me ever since.

    In 1876, when I was thirteen years of age, Agnes and I were prepared for a trip to Philadelphia with father, to visit the Centennial exposition on July 4th. It was extremely hot in Philadelphia, and father in his anxiety to show us around in a good time, kept us well fed, and filled with popcorn, candy, peanuts, etc., but our eyes having been bigger than our stomachs, we, like Oliver Twist, kept asking for more. Mother had taught us to play duets on the piano and father taking great pride in our accomplishment in this respect, insisted that we play in public whenever and wherever it was possible to do so -- to show us off, at it were. Piano manufacturers had their exhibits and the public, so inclined, invited to try the pianos. Philadelphia - 1876 Centennial Exhibition Agnes and I were escorted to a platform to play -- we did so, and received great applause, which so delighted Papa, that he immediately took us to a little lunch counter, where Agnes spied a piece of cherry pie, of which she ate, but with the heat and the mixture that preceded the pie, her stomach rebelled, spilling the undigested pie, etc., profusely over the floor and splashing over father's new high-top boots, the cherry pits bouncing hither and thither, whilst the nearby sight-seers scattered to safer quarters. Whether this aroused the anger of our liberal and affectionate pater-familias or the pinching of the newly made boots, has never been quite determined, but nevertheless his ire had to be subdued in some manner or other and found relief through the sudden chastisement of our sorrowful and innocent little AGGIE, whose sobs, occasioned therefrom, brought much loving sympathy from among the startled female witnesses to the unfortunate incident.

    It was in this year - 1876 on March 19th, that Alexander Graham Bell transmitted the first complete sentence by telephone, and the first commercial telephone exchange in the world was opened at New Haven, Conn in 1878, The Bell Telephone Company of New York having been organized in the same year. The telephone, like all practical inventions, was quite a novelty, and the man with "foresight" who invested $1,000.00 in any of such companies at their inception, has received large returns. As for example one thousand dollars invested in the telephone at that time would have returned $4,000,000. to the investor up to the present time, and in an address delivered on his 81st birthday, Chauncey M. Depew, formerly President of the New York Central Lines and United States Senator, said: "In 1887 I had an option of a sixth of Bell Telephone, for some days, for $10,000. I consulted the most famous telegraphic expert in the country and he advised me to drop it" "IT IS A TOY AND COMMERCIALLY A FAKE," he said. Had I followed my strong faith in the enterprise, I would be a hundred times a millionaire." Previous to this time, and when first heard of in Crestline, it was arranged by the Superintendent of Telegraph, Mr. Booth in Mansfield, Ohio, twelve miles East of Crestline, and my father to give a demonstration of the telephone between the two places. The instruments were procured and a set placed in Mr. Booth's home and one in our home, at Crestline, it not being necessary to erect special wires, as those of the telegraph company would serve the purpose. Some of the most prominent residents of each town were invited to be present, among those in Mansfield, Senator John Sherman, then one of the leading men of the country, who made his home in Mansfield. At a stated hour, the piano was to be played, and my

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sister Agnes chosen to play at our end of the line. Each of the assemblage was permitted to listen in turn, and all were greatly surprised, in fact amazed when they could hear, the talking, playing and singing so plainly from each end of the line. Senator Sherman spoke a few words and even the natural voice could be distinctly recognized, so that the demonstration proved a great and interesting success. The telephone company had solicitors throughout the country urging the people to subscribe to the stock, and one had been sent from Cleveland, Ohio, in fact from the Superintendent of the Western Union Telegraph Company there, to interview my father, as well as others of the town, and in Mansfield, but all seemed skeptical as to investing a cent of money in the project, claiming it could never prove practical for business purposes, and could serve for amusement only. The phonograph was considered in the same light and as Thos A. Edison had become prominently identified in the completion of each, father used to enjoy telling about him, as he was, or had been a telegraph operator, the same as himself. Tom worked in Memphis, Tennessee for the Western Union Tel. Co, in 1866 when he was 18 or 19 years old and read everything on electricity that he could find, and the superintendent, Col. Coleman claimed that Tom was crazy, for he had got into his head the idea of sending duplex dispatches and all Coleman said, "any damned fool ought to know that a wire can't be worked both ways at the same time." He declared he wouldn't have Tom puttering around the office with such silliness and finally discharged him in disgust. Father began as a messenger boy in the telegraph office at Zanesville, Ohio, in 1852 and therefore a pioneer in the business, serving as Ass't Sup't of Telegraph at Crestline, for 15 years and after 21 years service, was appointed Superintendent Jan. 1st 1884 to succeed Mr. O. H. Booth, deceased.

Col. William Crawford, 1732-1782

    Crestline, in Crawford County, Ohio, was named for Col. William Crawford and every school boy was familiar with the sad fate which befell Col. Crawford and the details of his unfortunate expedition against the Sandusky Indians were often related by father, in the stories told to his children during the long winter evenings, the Colonel having been intimately associated with George Washington as a surveyor. When the difficulties with France arose and the "Seven Years War" began Crawford obtained an Ensign's Commission from the Governor of Virginia, which was in 1755. Crawford and his two brothers had become land agents for Washington, in 1767, along the Youghiogheny river in Pennsylvania, for the purpose of giving the country a more particular examination than previously allowed. Early in 1770, an occurrence took place which created considerable exitement in western Pennsylvania. Crawford had a young man in his employ named John Ingham, who had been indentured to learn the art of surveying. While in a state of intoxication, he had brutally murdered an Indian, who had ever been a warm friend of the Crawford family. After committing the deed, Ingham fled to Virginia, but William, with two or three of the neighbors, pursued him and succeeded in taking him prisoner. He was delivered to the Governor of Virginia, who after a conference with Crawford, sent him under guard to Governor Penn. Unfortunately for the cause of justice, the murderer escaped from custody, and was never heard of afterwards. During the fall of 1779, Col. Crawford led several small parties into Ohio in pursuit of savage depredators. No better employment was desired by him than to follow up with success those bands of redskins who made the frontier a region of terror; murdering families, destroying dwellings, stealing horses and cattle, and often carrying into hopeless captivity, men, women and children who had become objects of their rapacity.

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    His expeditions to punish these fiends rarely failed of success, and long before his unfortunate end, the name of William Crawford was a terror to the Ohio Indians. It is well known that an expedition against Sandusky was a favorite project of Crawford. On one or more occasions he endeavored to raise a force for the destruction of that place, but failed for want of supplies. In June 1782, 478 mounted men mustered, fully armed and equipped for a campaign against the Sandusky towns from which it was known most of the marauding bands proceeded. An encampment was formed on the Sandusky plains and an irregular conflict began with the enemy, who appeared in large force. Great loss came to both parties, and Col. Crawford finding it useless to continue the fight against so large and determined a force, ordered a retreat. The men moved off very carelessly, and many were either killed or captured. Instead of keeping together, they straggled apart in small bodies, and were thus surrounded by the enemy, who carried on active pursuit. Colonel Crawford missed his son who had just attained his majority, and of great promise. Word was passed along the line, but no tidings of the youth were obtained, and the father became alarmed for his safety. He requested and obtained a number of men to return with him to the camping ground of the previous day to search for his missing boy. It was a fruitless mission.

    Crawford had returned on the trail but a short distance, when he concluded not to follow the main body of troops, but to strike off with his party, for the shortest possible road to Fort McIntosh. This was a fatal mistake. On the third day out the Indians attacked the Colonel's small force, and utterly routed it, killing and taking prisoners nearly the whole. Among the captives was the unfortunate commander. He was taken with other prisoners to a Wynadotte town on the Tyemochte, near the present site of Upper Sandusky, Ohio, and there perished at the stake, his execution being attended with cruelties, his ears having even been cut off, and other atrocities which caused a thrill of horror through the land. About the same time, and in the same way perished Colonel Crawford's son John Crawford, and his nephew and namesake William Crawford. So also died Major William Harrison, the Colonel's son-in-law and near relative, Major Rose. Truly the Sandusky expedition brought its full share of calamity to the family of its unfortunate commander. Crawford County bears the name of him who perished near its borders.

    Father's untiring devotion to duty, during his long railroad service brought on early infirmities, ultimately causing his demise in his fiftieth year. Several years after his death, I happened to call to see a Mr. Wm H. Newbold, then Superintendent of the L & N Ry, in Kentucky, and who had worked with my father, as a train dispatcher at Pittsburgh, and known him for a number of years, and he referred to him as "the best man he ever knew." Similar expressions have come to me from others, who knew him well, and I have never yet heard of a telegraph operator speak of him, other than in the highest praise, for having employed so many during his life, he was well known from coast to coast among the fraternity of telegraphers. I suppose there are moments in the lives of all grown men, when they come near to weeping aloud. In some secret place within myself, I must have been a wild river of tears, at the time our beloved father was stricken, at his office, with the stroke of paralysis - I was with him and helped carry him home - a pitiful sight indeed. So, there now comes back a rush of memories of kind, strong, patient, human aspects of his fatherhood. And I remember, as every son must remember, insubordinations, struggles, ingratitudes, great benefits taken unthankfully, slights and disregards. And, when I stood at his bier, it was not remorse

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I felt, nor repentance, but a tremendous regret that such things had happened and that life should be so. Why is it, I thought, that when a son has come to manhood he cannot take his father for a friend? I had a curious sense of unprecedented communion as I stood beside him now. I felt that he understood my thoughts; his face semed to answer with an expression of still and sympathetic patience. The flatly painted portrait of him hung there in stillness above the coffin, looking out on the world he had left with steady, humorous blue eyes that followed one about the room. There came an illness which produced suffering, and an altogether changed condition. Of all dark shadows upon life, I think that change through illness and organic decay in the thoughts and spirits of those who are dear and close to us, is the most evil and distressing and inexplicable.

    Suddenly from an apoplopectic stroke he was a changeling, a being querulous and pitiful, needing indulgencies and sacrifices. He was found dead, sitting in his chair, and I have often thought what a happy death it must have been, (although no one was near to comfort him in his last moments) - painless, instantaneous, without any wasting sickness beforehand -- his sudden passing from life present to life eternal. In my father's scrap-book begun when quite a young man, I find the following poem:

TO MY FATHER.
As die the embers on the hearth,
    And o'er the floor the shadows fall,
And creeps the chirping cricket forth,
    And ticks the death-watch in the wall --
I see a form in yonder chair,
    That grows beneath the waning light --
There are the wan, sad features -- there
    The pallid brow and locks of white.

My Father; when they laid thee down,
    And heaped the clay upon thy breast,
And left thee sleeping all alone,
    Upon thy narrow couch of rest,
I know not why I could not weep --
    The soothing drops refused to roll;
And oh; that grief is wild and deep,
    Which settles fearless on the soul;

But when I saw thy vacant chair --
    Thine idle hat upon the wall --
Thy book -- the penciled passages, where
    Thine eye had rested last of all;
The tree beneath whose family shade
    Thy trembling feet had wandered forth --
The very prints those feet had made
    When last they feebly trod the earth;

And thought, while countless ages fled,
    Thy vacant seat would vacant stand --
Unworn thy hat, thy book unread,
    Effaced thy footsteps from the sand --
And widowed, in this cheerless world,
    The heart that gave its love to thee --
Torn, like a vine, whose tendrils curled
    More closely round the falling tree: --

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Oh: - Father, then, for her and thee
    Gushed madly forth the scorching tears,
And oft, and long, and bitterly,
    Those tears have gushed in later years;
For, as the world grows cold around,
    And things take on their real hue,
'Tis sad to learn that love is found
    Alone above the stars with you.

    Father's fondness for the wit, wisdom and eloquence of Col. R. G. Ingersoll, brings to mind at this time, the Colonel's funeral oration at his brother's grave, which father often read aloud and upon finishing, would take his handkerchief to dry the tears, from which we can fully realize as to his thoughts of tenderness and love for those of his own, perhaps, who had passed on, and of whom, no doubt, the Col's words prompted him to think, so that it seems quite appropriate to subscribe the speech, in closing, as follows:

    "The funeral of Hon. Ebon C. Ingersoll, brother of Col. Rob't G. Ingersoll, took place at his residence in Washington, D.C. June 2nd, 1879. The ceremonies were extremely simple, consisting merely of viewing the remains by relatives and friends, and a funeral oration by Col. Ingersoll. A large number of distinguished gentlemen were present. Soon after Mr. Ingersoll began to read his eloquent characterization of the dead, his eyes filled with tears. He tried to hide them behind his eye-glasses, but he could not do it, and finally he bowed his head upon the dead man's coffin in uncontrollable grief. It was after some delay and the greatest efforts at self-mastery, that Col. Ingersoll was able to finish reading his address, which was as follows:" "My Friends: - I am going to do that which the dead often promised he would do for me. The loved and loving brother, husband, father, friend, died where manhood's morning almost touches noon, and while the shadows still were falling towards the West. He had not passed on life's highway the stone that marks the highest point, but being weary for a moment he laid down by the wayside, and using his burden for a pillow, fell into that dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids still. While yet in love with life and raptured with the world, he passed to silence and pathetic dust. Yet, after all, it may be best, just in the happiest, sunniest hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are kissing every sail, to dash against the unseen rock, and in an instant hear the billows roar a sunken ship. For, whether in mid-sea or among the breakers of the farther shore, a wreck must mark at last the end of each and all. And every life, no matter if its every hour is rich with love, and every moment jeweled with a joy, will, at its close, become a tragedy, as sad, and deep, and dark as can be woven of the warp and woof of mystery and death. This brave and tender man in every storm of life was oak and rock, but in the sunshine he was wine and flower. He was the friend of all heroic souls. He climbed the heights and left all superstitions far below, while on his forehead fell the golden dawning of a grander day. He loved the beautiful and was with color, form and music touched to tears. He sided with the weak, and with a willing hand gave alms; with loyal heart and with the purest hand he faithfully discharged all public trusts. He was a worshipper of liberty and a friend to the oppressed. A thousand times I have

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heard him quote the words: "For justice all place a temple and all season summer." He believed that happiness was the only good, reason the only torch, justice the only worshipper, humanity the only religion, and love the priest. He added to the sum of human joy, and were every one for whom he did some loving service to bring a blossom to his grave he would sleep tonight beneath a wilderness of flowers. Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.

    He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath, "I am better now." Let us believe, in spite of doubts and dogmas and tears and fears that these dear words are true of all the countless dead.

    And now, to you who have been chosen from among the many men he loved to do the last sad office for the dead, we give his sacred dust.

    There was -- there is -- no gentler, stronger, manlier man."

  

R. B. Wynkoop (Ben)
New York City, 1926

Henry William Wynkoop
Supt. Telegraph


Source:

Crestline Shunk Museum
Crestline Historical Society
211 North Thoman Street
Crestline, Ohio


Notes:

    Notes from Richard Wynkoop's 1904 edition of Wynkoop Genealogy in the United States of America:

    667. Gerardus Wynkoop, (Matthew 373, Gerardus 153, Gerrit 45, Gerret 5, Cornelius 1:) died in July, 1860, in Zanesville, Ohio: married Nancy Farrell, of Hagerstown, Md., who died in 1868, in Zanesville.
    Children of Gerardus and Nancy Wynkoop:
1119. Mary Anne. She died in infancy.
1120. James M.: d. in 1868, in Zanesville. He lived in the South, and served in the Rebel army, and was in the engagements at Pensacola and Pittsburg Landing; and, at Murfreesboro, he was taken prisoner.
    He had been a member of the 1st Reg. Ohio Vol., in the war against Mexico.
1121. John B.: d. in his 18th year, in Raymond, Miss. He was for a short time, editor of the Zanesville Aurora, and he contributed leading articles to the Louisville Courier, and essays and poems, to several other journals.
1122. Matthew Bennett: b. Feb. 16, 1830: m. Susie V. Hanlin.
1123. Gerardus. He died in infancy.
1124. William N. He also died in infancy.
1125. Henry W.: b. Dec. 31, 1837: m. Mary C. Wilson.

    1125. Henry W. Wynkoop, (Gerardus 667, Matthew 373, Gerardus 153, Gerrit 45, Gerret 5, Cornelius 1,) born December 31, 1837, in Zanesville, Ohio: died September 16, 1887, in Crestline, Ohio: married, June 4, 1862, Mary Cincinnata Wilson, born August 7, 1841, of Jackson, Tenn. He was manager of the telegraphic office in Crestline.
    Children of Henry W. and Mary C. Wynkoop:
1559. Robert Bennett: b. Mch. 6, 1863, in Pittsburg, Penn.
1560. Agnes Farrar: b. May 28, 1865, in Crestline.
1561. Eleanora Augusta: b. Jan. 29, 1869.
1562. Orrin Booth: b. Aug. 29, 1872.
1563. Percy Gerardus: b. Oct. 13, 1875.

    For those of you interested in reading more of Col. Ingersoll's writings I would suggest that you drop by the following website where you will find several dozen examples of his writing: Robert Green Ingersoll

    Finally, I'd like to thank my brother, Geoff, for his help in cleaning up several of the images which accompany this memoir. They look a whole lot better than when I first captured them. Thanks Geoff!

    Enjoy!

    Chris

Created February 8, 2001; Revised October 25, 2002
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Copyright © 2001-2002 by Christopher H. Wynkoop, All Rights Reserved

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