3 Columbia 311 ntoensttp mtljeCttptfiitogflrk THE LIBRARIES I Scaling the Eagle's Nest The Life of Russell H. Conwell OF* PHILADELPHIA. BY AN OLD ARMY COMRADE i'&pflkp : '. ?i .1.. H* • * i PUBLISH KD BY JAMBS D. G I LL SPRINGFIELD, MASS - -< Copyright, 1889. JAMES D. GILL. • b • «» CLARK W. BRYAN & CO., PRINTERS, SPRINGFIELD, MASS. PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. CD In preparing this biography for the public, the editor, ^ with the most valuable aid of friends, has enlarged and E^ arranged the writings of Mr. Wm. C. Higgins of North Blandford, Mass., who was a soldier in Mr. Conwell's O command during the war with the Southern Confeder- > :t acy. Mr. Higgins was a most devoted friend of Mr. Conwell, and when a history of the Forty-sixth Massa- chusetts Volunteers was being compiled, Mr. Higgins volunteered to gather the facts of Mr. Conwell's life for publication, as a part of the history of that regiment. Mr. Higgins was a private soldier in that regiment, and Mr. Conwell was a captain at that time. But the col- lection of biographical material was too extensive for such a volume, and the idea of the publication in that form was abandoned. Since Mr. Higgins' death, the growing fame of Mr. ConwelTs orations, lectures and sermons has created a demand for a biography which the editor hesitatingly attempts in a measure to supply, by using all of Mr. Higgins' collection with many additions, and much re- IV PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. arrangement. The editor has tried to preserve the form of Mr. Higgins' narrative, and retains the personal pro- noun of the biographer thoughout; although in many places considerable new matter has been added by the advice of friends. The editor would also add the following copy of a letter from Mr. Conwell, which will explain itself: — [.mr. conwell's letter.] Grace Baptist Church, ^ Philadelphia, Pa., Jan. i, 1SS9. j" Dear Friend: It was a surprise to me to learn how much attention Comrade Higgins had given to an account of my life. I don't believe it would pay to publish it as a business investment. But I do feel a strange mingling of sadness and gratitude when I think of his life-long friendship, and the sorrow his death has awakened. He was a good man. God bless every one who loved him. I am glad to know that the profits of the publication, should there be any, are so generously to be divided with his widow. I should be glad to give you any reasonable assistance my much crowded life will permit. Your friend as ever, Russell H. Conwell. I N D EX. CHAPTER I. The Shepherd Lad and the Eagle's Nest, Boyhood, The Scholar, The Orator, The Author, The Soldier, The Lawyer, The Traveler, CHAPTER II. CHAPTER III. CHAPTER IV. CHAPTER V. CHAPTER VI. CHAPTER VII. CHAPTER VIII. CHAPTER IX. The Minister, .... Letters from the Battle-fields, 14 27 37 48 54 73 89 1 IS •45 CHAPTER 1. THE SHEPHERD LAD AND THE EAGLE'S NEST. Parents — The hunter s discovery — The flock of sheep — Climbing the old tree — Expedients and perseverance — The victory. ALTHOUGH I was probably acquainted with Russell H. Conwell from his birth, for I lived all his early years two miles from his home, in Worthington, Hampshire County, Massachusetts, yet I do not remember much of him during his earliest childhood. His father Martin Conwell, and his mother Miranda Wickham Conwell were intimate acquaintances before their marriage. Martin was one of my boyhood's playmates. His home from the time of his marriage was in a small, red, one and one-half story farm house, near a summit of a rugged part of that mountain region. Back of the old farm house and its out-buildings is a hill of rock, from which is a magnificent view of the deep valley leading through mountains seen forty miles away. But the first time I saw Russell, which I now recall, 8 SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. was when he was a shepherd boy, not over ten years old, watching his father's sheep along the jagged hill- side included in his father's rocky possessions. I had been out hunting for wild bee trees with his uncle, and came out of the forest at the top of a high rock which forms a crest of the broken hill north of the Conwell homestead. It was a cool October day, and ten thou- sand colors ornamented the hills and valleys, and the distant mountain tops. I am often now reminded of that scene when I hear Mr. Conwell deliver an address, or read one of his books. Russell was in charge of a flock of sheep, and I think he had a hard time to keep them in order among the high boulders, the steep ledges and the clumps of thick bushes. But just in front of, and out on a lower ledge or cliff, of the hill was a knotted, knarled and broken hemlock tree, which the storms had nearly killed. It must have been fifty feet high then, and some storm or stroke of lightning had broken off much of the top. There was only one limb which was left whole, and many of the others had been broken off close to the trunk, or splintered down. It was a craggy ruin of a great tree. It grew on a wide, barren rock, with the roots running away out to cracks for support. On the top of that tree, in the splintered and twisted crown, was an eagle's nest. A rude thing, built of awkward sticks, with a bunch of hay in the center. There was SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. 9 no other tree near that old trunk, and alone it had withstood the storms for probably a half century after the woods were cleared. " There's Russell climbing that tree ! " said his uncle, Mr. Cole, who was with me. But I had to look several times and shade my eyes before I could see the boy, he was so small. " What is that little fellow going to do now ? " I asked. But Mr. Cole was as much puzzled as was I. Mr. Cole thought he had better call him down, for his par- ents would have been terribly frightened if they had seen that boy alone struggling to get up that tree. But we decided to sit down by the bushes and watch him, and see what he was trying to do. He did not discover us, and we sat there for two hours or more, watching his manceuvers. It was rich amusement, and we laughed till we cried. The sheep were browsing about the great rocks in the unfenced clearing, and knew his voice so well that in the midst of his struggles, if he saw any of the sheep going too far away he had only to call them by name, and they came slowly back nibb- ling at the bushes. He was evidently after the eagle's nest, but there was not a man in the mountains who would have thought it possible to do anything else but to shoot it down. When we first saw him he was half way up the great IO SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. tree, and was tugging away to get up by a broken limb which was swinging loosely about the trunk. For a long time he tried to break it off, but his little hand was too weak. Then he came down from knot to knot like a squirrel, and jumped to the ground and ran to his little jacket and took his jack-knife out of the pocket. Then he slowly clambered up again. When he reached the limb again, he clung to another limb with his left hand and threw one leg over a splintered knot and with the right hand hacked away with his knife. " He will give it up,"- we both said. But he did not. He chipped away until at last the limb fell to the ground. Then he pocketed his knife, and bravely strove to get up higher. It was a dizzy height even for a grown hunter, but the boy never looked down. He went on until he came to a place about ten feet below the nest, where there was a long, bare space on the trunk, with no limbs or knots to cling to. He was baffled then. We laughed under our breath as he looked on one side, then on the other. He looked up at the nest many times, tried to find some place to catch hold of the rough bark and sought closely for some rest to put his foot on higher up. But there was none. An eagle's nest was a rare thing to him, and he hugged the tree and thought. Suddenly he began hastily to descend again, and soon dropped to the ground. Away be ran down through the ravines, leaping the little SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. II streams and disappeared toward his home. We knew he would not leave the sheep long, so we sat still. It was but a few minutes before we saw his torn straw hat and blue shirt flitting about the rocks and bushes, and soon he came back to the tree. He called the sheep all to him and talked to them, and shook his ringer at them, but we could not hear what he said. Then he clambered up the tree again, dragging after him a long piece of his mother's clothes line. At one end of it he had tied a large stone, and it hindered his progress as it caught in the limbs and splinters. The wind blew his torn straw hat away down aside cliff, and he tore one side of his pants leg sadly. But he went on. When he got to the smooth place on the tree again, he fastened one end of the rope about his wrist, and then taking the stone which was fastened to the other end, he tried to throw it up over the nest. It was an awk- ward and a dangerous position, and the stone did not reach the top. Six or seven times he threw that stone up, and it fell short or went to one side, and nearly dragged him down as it fell. " Let's stop him ! Let s stop him ! " I said. But Mr. Cole said, "Let him try once more." The little boy felt for his knife again, and opened it with his teeth as he held on, and hauling the rope up, cut off a part of it. Then he threw a short piece around the tree and tied himself with it to the tree. Then he 12 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. could lean back for a longer throw. So he tied the rope to his hand again, and threw the stone with all his energy. It went straight as an arrow. It drew the rope squarely over the nest and fell down the other side of the tree. After quite a struggle he reached around the tree for the stone, and tied that end of the rope to a long broken limb. When he drew the other end of the rope which had been fastened to his hand, it broke down the sides of the nest at the top of the tree, and an old bird arose from the nest with a wild scream. We had supposed the nest was deserted until that moment. I was afraid the eagle would show fight, and we put our guns in order to bring her down if she came back to attack the boy. But she swooped down about the place but twice, and then flew away off to a grove on another hill. Then Russell loosed the rope which held him to the tree, and pulling himself up with his hands on the scal- ing line, digging his bare toes, heels and knees at times into the ragged bark, he was up in two minutes to the nest. He pulled the whole nest to pieces in a moment, and scattered the pieces over the rocks. The long feathers, which the boy was after, went flying about the ground. Then he slipped back easily to the great knot where he had fastened the rope, and we called out to him to stop there a while. We had hoped that the bird would SCALING THE EAGLES NEST. 13 come back so that we could get a shot at her. Russell was surprised when he found we had been sitting up there on the ledge laughing at him all the time. But the old eagle would not come back, and probably thought a deserted home was not worth fighting about. I believe Russell afterwards caught her in a trap, at any rate he kept those eagle's feathers many years, which he took so much risk to get from the nest. I have never forgotten that incident, not only because the boy was so persistent and ingenius, but because it was so unusual a thing for an eagle to be found in the mountains at that time of the year. His uncle said " No one on earth but Russell would have thought of such a thing, or ventured to climb for such a prize." CHAPTER II. BOYHOOD. Brother and sister — His boyhood' 's home — Father's occu- patioti — Hardships — School life — Daily work — Love of animals — Sports — Saving lives — Love of storms — An author's description of his old home. RUSSELL H. CONWELL was the second son in a family, with one brother and one sister. The sister, now Mrs. Lyman T. Ring of Huntington, Mass., is three years younger than Russell. His brother Charles was in the United States service for a number of years, during and after the war of the rebellion. He died in 187 1, having been for sometime attached to the United States Survey of the Mississippi River, under General Warren, L T . S. A. Both his parents died soon after, and all are buried in the Cemetery at Ringville, in his native town of Worthington. The white slabs which mark their graves can be seen a long distance away, as the burial place is on a prominent little plateau of those elevated highlands. Russell's home was a very humble one, and his fare of the most simple kind, as his parents began life SCALING THE EAGLE'S - NEST. I 5 together very poor, and were obliged to save every penny to meet the interest on the farm. It would seem absurd, I suppose, to the farmers of the rich valleys, or on the western prairies, to give the name of " a farm " to such a collection of broken rocks, ledges, cliffs, sand heaps, brush clumps, muck hollows and barren hillsides, as was included in that little homestead of a hundred acres. Russell's father was unable to get a living oft the farm alone, and so contracted to lay stone walls for farms and house cellars. Russell's father was a very powerful man physically, and was regarded among us as the strongest man of muscle in the neighborhood. But he was also a man of unusual native talent, and soon saw that there was more money in the mercantile life than in stone masonry. So while Russell was a small boy his father began to gather up butter, eggs, cattle, sheep, wild animal's skins and various merchant- able productions of the mountain towns, and periodi- cally visited the city of Springfield, Mass., to dispose of them at a profit. He was a man of unimpeachable moral character, and was respected and trusted implicitly by all who had dealings with him. Hence he did not need much money on which to transact business. He did not suc- ceed in getting rich, but he did pay off the debt on his farm, and always gave liberally toward the church, schools and charitable enterprises. I never heard how 1 6 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. much he had accumulated when he died, but he could not have been at anytime worth over two thousand dol- lars. But he was a genial, good neighbor, and a con- sistent, active member of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the small hamlet of South Worthington. Russell's early life must have been spent in the hard- ships of that struggle for a living. He was, at three years of age, sent to a district school two miles away, and the hilly path led over wild scenes and through deep woods. I have often heard him speak with ten- derness of that clear old red school-house of his earliest recollections. But he could go to school only in the autumn or winter months, as he was needed on the farm to watch the sheep, or drive the cattle, or stable the horse, or chop the wood. His life began with work, and has been one of continuous employment. His school life, as far as I can learn, from his school- mates, was not in any way remarkable, unless it be for the irresistible and provoking way he had of arousing mirth and making even the teacher laugh at his original ways and speeches. He early acquired a most wonder- ful power of memorizing which strangely enabled him to look at pages and afterwards study them before his mind's eye without the book. He was a special favorite during several terms, from a habit he had of bringing his pockets full of large sheepnose apples and generously giving them all away. I do not think he ate a single The Church at South Worthington. SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. 17 apple himself for the weeks in which he came loaded. He was strong and rugged as the rocks, and he could do without his meals most sturdily, and give his dinner away to other school children. The old schoolhouse was a rude structure, and had rough benches and rough desks, with a large stove for burning logs of wood, in the center of the room. It is still standing, and is often pointed out to travelers on the Worthington stage which passes the house. At home Russell and his brother slept in the attic under the roof, with the unpainted rafters and shingles over them, and the stormy winds moaning under the eaves, and sometimes rifts of snow drifting into the place through the cracks. His clothing was of cheap material, and often patched and ragged, as the most dili- gent mother could not keep such a boy in whole apparel. His daily tasks in early boyhood during the winter were a changeable, conflicting hurry, from building the morn- ing fire before daylight to milking the cows, feeding the horse, cutting wood, caring for the sheep and pigs, shoveling out snow-drifts, mending ox-sleds, hunting for hen's eggs, peeling apples and general housework. If he went to school he or his brother, or both had to come home early or at noontime to care for the stock. But his brother told me that Russell was the only one about the farm who was able to catch a wild cat, or could control the vicious cattle. He seemed to under- l8 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. stand them and they understood him. He would ride down to the watering-place in the valley on a shy cow's back, and come rushing back, holding with both arms about the neck of a prancing ox. The calves would kick up and chase him about among the rocks with a childish delight. The wild squirre)s and woodchucks he often fed, and he was repeatedly overheard pronounc- ing a funeral oration over some animal which others had killed. In summer time his boyish life was spent in shepherd occupations, or in planting, hoeing or gathering the scanty crops of corn, potatoes, beans and pumpkins which constituted the entire harvest. He loved fruit trees and planted them wherever there was hope of soil between the stones to support them. One of the finest apple orchards on the mountains is one which is still wonderfully fruitful, and which he set out with young trees, and grafted before he left the old homestead. The broken hillsides, which he helped to clear of lum- ber, are many of them overgrown again, and some of the corn-fields where he attacked the weeds and pronounced oratorical maledictions on them, as he worked on for hours alone, are now covered with wild growths of mountain blackberries and raspberries, and the fox, woodchuck, muskrat, wild partridge and bluejay revel in a wilderness there. But the barren hill-top behind the old house, with a side growth of sugar-maple trees, SCALING THE EAGLES NEST. 19 still remains unchanged. The old sugar-house in the forest, where he used to gather the maple sap in the spring, and where, through long nights he fed the chald- ron fire, and read borrowed books by the flickering light, is still standing, I think. He cared but little for hunting, but took the prize in four or five contests at shooting matches, and has received several prizes at city matches since. But he enjoyed picking wild ber- ries, and long expeditions into the woods, or nights and days of fishing at the ponds or lakes which fill so many of our mountain crests. Every lurking-place for trout in all the cascades, pools and eddies of the stream about the neighborhood, he was familiar with. But how he managed to get any time for such things, was ever a surprise. But he must have played truant sometimes, and the way he could write his father's name when skating one day on the mill-pond at the village, led his father to say, " Such things as that are not done without practice, and I guess I'll set him at peeling bark in the new clearing." He was a powerful swimmer, and could get none of the boys to race with him in that sport. I heard of several cases where he saved persons from drowning by his skill as a swimmer. In one case, at Norwich Pond, he swam over a mile to an upset boat, and dove three times, bringing up a man and a boy who had gone down a second time. He had a gift for inventing, or 20 SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. improving fishing apparatus, oars, boats, coasting sleighs, household and farm utensils, and all sorts of wind and water toys. He loved such pastimes, and his father often punished him with the rod for his persistence in their construction. The only time his father ever asked his pardon, I have heard, was after he had whipped Russell for leaving the cider apples out in the frost while he worked on an improved ox-sled, which, after- ward, was of great practical use. The fierce winter storms, which in these mountains and this climate are often long and wild, were to Rus- sell a delight. He was out in the coldest weather, and driving snow-storms were no hindrance to his lonely excursions. Often covered with icy sleet and sliding on snowdrifts deeper than his length, he found his way to the woods, or to school, or to the pickerel holes on the ponds without fear or complaint. He was often the first thought of a neighbor, and always the first volunteer, when a sheep or calf had been lost in the hills or forests, and one of his older neighbors tells me that he remembers one night in a rocky pasture, two miles away from any house where at dawn he found a neighbor's lost cow nearly buried in the snow of the sudden storm. His love for coasting on the icy crust in winter, when a smooth slab or two barrel staves served as a sleigh, was a positive passion. The steepest side hills, and the many dangerous declivities and leaps SCALING THE EAGLES NEST. 2 1 were his attraction ; and like an arrow he would dart down from peak to valley with a recklessness of man- ner that led all the old ladies to prophesy that " Rus- sell will get killed one of these days." But there seemed to be a skill back of all the venture- someness which brought him safe at the foot of the hills. In summer he was out in the darkest thunder-showers, and seemed to have a strange pleasure in getting wet through, and in witnessing the near play of the lightning. A thunder-storm in the mountains was his great sport, and his mother told me that all the years of his boy- hood, as soon as he heard the patter of the great drops on the shingles over his bed, or as soon as awakened by the distant thunder, he would always get up and sit at the open window, or go out into the night to watch the storm alone. Whether or not he cares for such things now, I do not know. The attractive author Miss May Field McKean once visited the Conwell homestead, and published a descrip- tion of her journey which contained the following : " Just at present many thoughts are turning with in- terest toward the Green Mountains of Massachusetts, because in so doing they follow Russell H. Conwell to the home of his boyhood. But though fancy may have painted those scenes to which he has from time to time referred, during his public ministrations, or private utterances among us, yet to most of us the fancy is 22 SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. vague and undefined ; therefore we are sure we can lay before our readers nothing that can give them more pleasure than a description of that early home. " Huntington Station, in Hampshire County, Mass., is twenty-one miles northwest of Springfield, on the Bos- ton and Albany Railroad. The residence of his sister and brother-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Lyman T. Ring, is reached by a five-mile drive from here. It is situated on the East Branch of the Westfield River, upon a sufficient eminence to command a fine view of the rapid river, and the surrounding country. " But to reach the old homestead, one must drive six miles up the valley to South Worthington. The course lay for a time along the river, and then followed a tribu- tary to it, so that one did not once leave the sweet sound of falling water — for these swift mountain streams present but little likeness to the slow, dignified advance of our level-country rivers. In fact they remind one very much of ' How the water comes down at Lodore.' '' " ' From its fountains In the mountains, Through moss and through brake It runs and it creeps For a while, till it sleeps In it's own little lake. And thence at departing, Awakening and starting, It runs through the reeds, And away it proceeds, SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. 23 Through meadow and glade, In sun and in shade — Here it comes sparkling, And there it lies darkling. ***** And so never ending, but always descending, Sounds and motions forever are blending,' etc. " And while this harmony of ' sounds and motions ' was upon one side of the road, upon the other rose the mountains in some places almost perpendicularly, some- times to considerable heights, thickly wooded with many kinds of trees, among the rocks at whose feet, fern and moss and shrub vied with each other in delicacy of shade and gracefulness of form and variety of beauty and bloom. " Presently we were told : ' When we have passed the next bend in the road we can see the old church.' A few rods more, and high before us we saw the white gleam through the trees, seeming to give strength and calmness to the scene by its heavenward-pointing spire. Before reaching it we came to one of the wildest and most beautiful series of cascades that can be imagined. " A particular characteristic of all these New England houses is the absolute neatness in which they are kept. Buildings which looked as if the contractors had fin- ished their work this year, and the painters yesterday, were pointed out as having stood in the same neat order 24 SCALING THE EAGLE'S FEST. for half a century. The exterior of this church was no exception to the rule, though the interior showed the mistake. The Conwell pew was the second from the front on the right hand side — straight-backed, narrow- seated and square-armed. The gallery, where as a young man Mr. Conwell used to lead the singing, ran across the front of the church. " From the window in this gallery the scene is exceed- ingly beautiful, commanding a view for many miles down the valley. Up to this time the weather had been threatening rain. Now the sun shone forth in splen- dor, but from a sky so full of clouds that they were constantly changing and completing the picture by their own beautiful forms and tints above, and their shadows on the valley and mountain sides below. " A little beyond the church is the old homestead. The House, which stands upon a commanding eminence, is out of repair now, for it has gone into strangers' hands. Roses and running vines have been trained around the door once, but to-day they are neglected and forlorn- looking ; weeds grow side by side with the lilies of former care, and the pathway has been encroached upon by the grass and shrubs of the door-yard. " The view from the porch here is but little changed from that already noted at the church, and among the first sounds which greeted the infant ears of the child- ren of the household must have been the ' music of SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. 25 * the waters ' from the cascades below. Above the porch is the small-paned window into the attic which Mr. Conwell occupied when a boy, where he " Listened to the strain That was played upon the shingles By the patter of the rain." " Back of the house is the old barn ; then a field that was a ball ground of years ago ; and then still farther ascending the brow of the mountain, capped by a huge rock from which the eye may turn in any direction and still behold a feast of beauty. The reader will not wonder that the writer gathered a piece of moss from the foot of this rock to be preserved as a souvenir of the spot. Again in fancy do we breathe long, sweet draughts of the pure mountain air, listen to the restless, ceaseless murmur of the now distant water, hear the melody of the birds' song and insect life, and note the perfect harmony of field and wood, of mountain and valley, of sunlight and shadow. Tis only in the sin- fulness of human life that we discover discord and incompleteness. " Coming back we passed into the orchard. These trees were planted by Mr. Conwell himself. We had seen many trees heavily laden with fruit, but none so heavily as these. Although many of the branches were propped up, they still bowed low under their weight of promising fruitage, and we could not help asking the 26 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. question whether there was not in this fact a prophecy that is being realized in the life of him who planted them. " In a farther drive we were shown the schoolhouse where in youthful days he went to school, the spring where all the children drank on their way to and from thence, the building where he taught his first school, and the town hall where the people assembled from miles around to do honor to the returned soldiers, as described in the lecture ' Acres of Diamonds.' From this point — the table-land of the lower Green Moun- tains — can be seen the mountain near the birthplace and early home of William Cullen Bryant, who among this Hampshire County scenery, wrote his immortal ' Thana- topsis.' " We once heard Dr. Henson say : ' It is the country boy whose eyes from childhood have looked off to grand distances, and whose strength has come from nearness to nature in her sublimity and beauty, who has a far-reaching mental vision, and who proves the greatest power in the world.' ' Well, we don't wonder.' " CHAPTER III. THE SCHOLAR. His school days — Mental peculiarities — His teachers — Rev. Asa Niles — Industrious study — Books in his pockets — Wilbraham Academy — Cooking his mush alone — a poor boy at Yale — Kindness of professors — His first literary ventures — Interrupted studies — The war. IN securing the information about Mr. Conwell's studies, and education generally, I have asked several of his highly-educated acquaintances to send me information, and this report is made up largely of their answers. Russell was a rather dull scholar when a child, ac- cording to some of his teachers, and very troublesome sometimes in his rollicking mischievousness. But be- ginning at three years of age to go two miles over the hill-tops to school would seem like precociousness to me. But his teachers and books were not of the first order, and the ideas concerning teaching in a Yankee school district then and now, are quite different. He was often at the foot of his class, except when he was in a 28 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. branch by himself. Yet he seemed to understand the books, and in a curious, general way obtained knowl- edge speedily. He once told me when he visited his native town, to give a centennial address I think, that there was one teacher, a Miss Salina Cole, afterward Mrs. Parsons, to whom he was more indebted for his education than to any other teacher or professor he ever had. She had some theory in psychology, or mind de- velopment, which she tried to use with the smaller scholars, but which was a failure with nearly every one but Russell. She tried to train them to remember by a kind of pholographic process in the mind, which I could not easily explain. It was a hobby, or fancy of the time or place. By it the children were supposed to be able to repeat long recitations verbatim, by read- ing them over but once. It was done by scrutinizing the page closely, and word by word, once, and then shutting the eyes and reproducing the actual page on the mind so as to read it off, word for word. It has really been a wonder in his case. He could repeat many pages without an error, even in the punctuation. But he could not do it with his eyes open. He seemed to actually see the page in his mind. He said that some of those pages he recited then, came to him twenty- five years after, when in certain conditions of mental excitement, and every word is as clear as the print. Under favorable, but often curious conditions, he can SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. 29 now read once a whole chapter of the Bible, and recite the whole of it hours after without having attempted to "commit it to memory" on the plan of "learning by heart." But the ablest teacher.of his early years, and the per- son who encouraged him to aspire to scholarship, was the Rev. Asa Niles, a local Methodist preacher, and father of Prof. W. H. Niles of Cambridge, Mass. The Rev. Asa Niles was a noble character, and as a teacher he was strict and energetic. Russell and his brother Charles were inspired by that good man to seek a higher education. Mr. Niles was a cousin of Russell's fa*her, and the relationship may have increased the interest. The three boys, Russell and Charles and William H. Niles were the closest of friends, and loved the same studies. Prof. W. H. Niles is now one of the most honored professors at the Technological Institute at Boston, Mass., and is well known as a scientific lecturer through- out the country. Rev. Asa Niles watched over Russell almost as over his own son, and while often provoked by Russell's wildness, yet clung to him nobly. He it was who had influence enough with Russell's father to obtain permission for the boy to go to Wilbraham Academy, after the local schools were exhausted in his line of studies. It was he that encouraged Russell to teach school at sixteen years of age, and as Russell's 30 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. father was poor, it was a sacrifice for him to give up the boy's wages just as he could earn something. But Mr. Niles was respected by all, and an especial friend of Russell's father, because of their membership in the little M. E. Church at the head of the valley. Russell obtained about all the privileges Mr. Niles asked. It was Mr. Niles who suggested to Russell the course he has always pursued, and which has made him such a scholar. Mr. Niles advised him to take a book with him at all times, and study every spare moment, wher- ever he might be. Russell adopted it heartily. In the hayfield, at noon hour, or in the potato patch at the end of each row he would glance at the book and meditate on the page as he continued his work. When driving an ox-team to the distant railroad, or when using the horse on the road or in the fields and forest, wherever there was a short or long drive, Russell produced his worn book and learned something. Even his father, who was a man of excellent judgment, made jokes about Russell's bookishness. But the boy stuck to it, and I think carries books about with him still in the busy life of to-day. When Russell was sixteen years old he went to the Academy at Wilbraham, at the edge of the Connecticut Valley, twelve miles east of Springfield, Mass. He was too poor to go but one term at a time, in company with his brother, and even then they earned their board SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. 3 1 by working after study hours for the farmers about the village. I was told while in the army, by one of his classmates, that during one term Russell had a room on the outskirts of the village and lived alone, and his entire food for several weeks was Indian mush and milk prepared by himself. Such a broken life interrupted his studies much, so that he never stood very high in his classes. His stud- ies and reading, however, took a wide range, and he mastered many books not in the curriculum of studies. He was independent of criticism or standing in the Academy, made so, I suppose, by his hardships and in- ability to dress as well as the more favored students. But there he met with a sympathetic friend and helper in the Rev. Miner Raymond, D. D., principal of the Acad- emy, and made many friends among a class of men, many of whom are now high in the world's success. For three years, 1859, i860, and t86i, Russell labored a part of the time at the Academy, a part of the time teaching school in Blandford, Mass., or at West Gran- ville (Beach Hill), Mass., and a part of the time help- ing his father on the farm. In 1 86 1 and the first part of 1862 Russell went to Yale College with his brother Charles. There he was too poor to enter on the regular classical course in the college, but met with a most generous reception from sympathetic professors. 32 SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. He had decided to study for the law, although all the time inclined toward the ministry. He found that he could save time and money by working hard and taking the law and classics together. The privations he en- dured, and the hard work he performed soon threw him into a dangerous fever. But even on his bed he kept up his law studies, and held through to the examination in the Law School. Prof. Silliman and the president of the college urged him to take less work, and offered to assist him with money, but he declined to borrow money. It was a generous, and most creditable kindness, which led those professors to give extra time from their private hours to help on that poor boy so that he might be able to enter the junior year by examination. Such men are an honor to our colleges. Yet when we think how at that sensitive age those young brothers faced the ridicule of students in wealth, and struggled against such great obstacles to obtain an education, we can account readily for the consequent success. Charles selected at Yale a scientific pursuit, and Russell chose the law. Something of the genius of the boy at the beginning of his study at New Haven is seen in a poem, quite extensively copied then, which he wrote for the North- ampton Gazette, but which I obtained from the Somer- ville Journal, published by Mr. ConwelPs brother-in-law J. O. Hayden. The first verse is all I need copy : SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. 33 " There's a time in the night When an editor's light Burns in his sanctum dimly. When his eye is fired, And his tongue inspired With thought and reason seemly. Oh, oh could he pen The thoughts that come then, And fill his room so lonely, 'Twould build him a name 'Mid the temples of fame, Compared with the greatest only.' But into the feverish rush and exhausting toil of that student's life came the patriotic call. His country needed men to maintain the supremacy of freedom, and he suddenly broke away. Both he and his brother de- termined one evening to leave all and go to war. Rus- sell attempted to enlist as a private in the 27th Massa- chusetts Infantry, and signed the papers, but his father's objection prevented the mustering officer from accept- ing him. But when the 46th Massachusetts Infantry was called out, the unanimous and urgent demand of Company F for him as captain, led Governor Andrew to commis- sion the beardless boy. But he went on with his studies. Books, books every- where ! Study, study at all times when off duty. Often I saw him wandering off up the banks of the Neuse River at New Berne, N. C, or out into the cotton fields, 34 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. or in his tent studying Blackstone or Greenleaf. After our term of service was over, and he had entered the artillery service, he continued his persistent study. At Fort Macon, N. C, when in command of the outposts, he walked up and down the shore, and learned by heart chapter after chapter of law and philosophy. His in- dependence and almost recklessness as a soldier, which continually got him into trouble, did not abate his studiousness. After his wounds at Kennesaw Mountain, Ga., and return to Massachusetts, he entered the law office of Judge W. S. Shurtleff of Springfield, his former Colonel, and from there went to the University of Albany, N. Y., where he graduated on examination. The Albany University conferred on him the degree of LL. B. But his education was but partially begun. For all the years of law practice, of foreign travel, of editorial and ministerial life, he has ever been at his books. He learned to read five different languages in the daily rides on the steam and horse cars, between his home in Newton Centre, Mass., and his office in Boston. Some of the most difficult sciences he mastered alone on steam cars, or in stage coaches, while journeying as a correspondent in distant countries, or in distant American states. A professor at Oberlin College has preserved as a curiosity, an autograph book which was handed to Mr. Conwell at the Paris Exhibition of 1878, SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. 35 and in which Mr. Conwell wrote impromptu t verses of "Mary had a little lamb," in seven different languages. [His establishment of the Temple College, Philadel- phia, for workingmen, is said to have grown out of the desire of a class of young men, to get directions fn m him, how to study at home and during spare hours. — Ed.] He tried to learn something of every man he met, and from every new thing he saw. He did not appear to be systematic, but persistent, His motto written in autograph books, but more clearly written in his character, is Perseverentia Vincit, " Per- severance Conquers." Surely his life proves the old proverb to be true. When he began his theological studies, I do not know, but it was many years before he entered the min- istry, for I remember being told by his father as early as 1867 that Russell was collecting a theological library, and sending to Germany for a number of books on the subject, which were delayed in the Boston Custom House. In 1865 when he was admitted to the bar in the Supreme Court of New York, he is said to have had a Greek New Testament in his overcoat pocket. The same evening when he was admitted in 1875 to practice in the United States Supreme Court at Wash- ington, he delivered an address in that city on the 36 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. branches taught in the old school of the prophets. He was regarded as a scholar in theology, and gathered about him in Boston several hundred students who wished to listen to his exposition of the scriptures, be- fore he intended to enter the ministry. Living at New- ton Centre, Mass., the seat of a celebrated theological seminary of the Baptist denomination, he was brought into intimate relations with some of the best minds, and with some of the profoundest biblical scholars. His chief interest for some years centered in Christian an- tiquities. He gathered from all parts of the old world photographs of the ancient manuscripts, and of sacred places, and kept up a frequent correspondence with many professors and explorers interested in that sub- ject. He often lectured in schools and colleges on Archaeological subjects, with illustrations prepared for the calcium light under his own supervision. When his library was destroyed by fire, the greatest loss was in valuable theological works. His theological course at the Newton Theological Seminary was wholly elective, and maintained together with a multitude of active business and pastoral duties. He is a man who always finds work enough to do, and cannot be said to be ever idle. He left the Newton Institution in 1881 when he gave himself wholly to the ministerial office. CHAPTER IV. THE ORATOR. Speaking at eight years of age — Organizer of a debating society at twelve — A natural musician — Ambition to be an actor — His nervousness whe?i expecting to speak — Address in Whitman Hall, Westfield — Address in Leeds, England — Removal to Mimiesota — The failure of his health — Openitig a law office at Boston — Forced to the platform in political campaigns — No apparent effort at oratorical effect — His celebrated lecture deliv- ered one thousand times. FOR some years I preserved the newspapers and pamphlets containing Mr. Conwell's speeches. But the number grew so fast that I gave up the idea. But I need not copy them, as probably nearly all my comrades are acquainted with those which most interested me. Russell was always an orator. He was born so. His mother said that before he could speak plainly he was constantly delivering imaginary sermons to the cat or pigs. And one day when he was but six years old, she overheard him delivering an oration to the astonished 38 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. rooster on the fence. He was brought out on all occa- sions, and was a necessity to the school exhibitions and anniversaries. Often whenever he was left alone he would begin addressing an unseen audience, and blushed to the ears when suddenly overheard. He talked to the trees, to the corn stalks, to the potato tops, and anathematized the weeds before he cut them down. When he was but eight years of age, during a time of local excitement over some question concerning Spiritualism, a crowded audience gathered in the Metho- dist Church to listen to his address. He was not more than twelve years of age when he was the foremost organizer of a debating society which met every week in the district school-house. There with grown men he held his own in debate, and was listened to with surprise and respect. The green, awkward country boy, with torn hat and patched knees, was talked about up and down the valleys. Fortunately for the boy, his parents had the good sense to avoid praising him. Sometimes his father gave him severe whippings for his literary lampoons. He was a natural musician, and easily mastered any instrument, and as a boy, was esteemed by us country people as a good singer. For some years he was the chief reliance as a player, on whatever instrument was handiest for the dance, at young peoples parties and balls. At the time he taught SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. 39 school he was also an excellent music teacher, and many of his scholars are still living, and playing or singing. But he often composed both words and music to songs having local hits, and often sharply sarcastic. Any local gossip, or practical joke awoke his muse, and a fearful raking some of the people received in song. It was for these dreaded ballads that Russell's father often used the birch stick. But it did no good. The very next night some original song, which hurt unin- tentionally, some old lady's feelings, would convulse the listeners as he sat at the parlor organ, or drew the bow of the violin. It was the cause of many heart- burnings. A good story about him appeared in the Philadelphia papers in 1883 which shows that the early traits are not extinct. He still has the faculty of composing words and music, and uses it often in his church work. He was engaged in writing out something of the kind that summer day, on the great pier at Cape May, N. J. A band from New York were on the pier practicing for their evening playing, and the cornetist went fishing. The cornet lay on a seat near Mr. Conwell and he took it up and played from his notes to try his composition. Then suddenly recalling an old air, he broke out into a solo that attracted the attention of all the people about the pier. He then laid down the instrument and walked away. About an hour later one of the band, 40 SCALING THE EAGLES NEST. not knowing who Mr. Conwell was, accosted him at his cottage gate and offered him five dollars, and then ten dollars to play for him, as a substitute, in the ball at Congress Hall. These songs of his boyhood were often recited by him on public occasions. But in those early days his great ambition was to be an actor. His greatest delight was in dialogues and theatrical performances. Alas, the little country church up there on the hill-top has seen many a theatrical play, on the improvised stage built over its altar rail for a school exhibition. Old saints laughed till they cried at Russell's acting, and unintentionally encouraged him in his foolish ambition. In some one of his lectures delivered years ago Mr. Conwell related how he was cured of the mania, and as near as I remember it was in this way. One spring, during the maple sugar season, when he was driving back and forth from the mountains to the Huntington Station on the Boston and Albany Railroad,, carting maple sugar, he left the seat of his wagon at home. On his way back he was compelled to drive the horse and stand up in the rickety old wagon with no support. It is a difficult thing to do in most favorable circumstances. About five miles down in the deep valley below his home was a very dense piece of wood- land. The road which ran through it was a very lone- some place. When entering that wood Russell drove SCALING THE EAGLES NEST. 41 the old horse at a trot, and thought it would be a good place to practice his part in the next theatrical per- formance. His chosen part was that of an insane person who rushed in to interrupt some love scene, by saying, " Woe ! woe ! unto you all, ye children of men ! " So Russell stood up in the wagon behind the trotting horse holding the loose reins, and shouted out, " Woe ! woe ! " The obedient horse thought it was a most imperative command to stop. He did stop instantly. Over Rus- sell went like an arrow. He fell upon the horse's back, and slid down head first upon the shaft, and sprawled out in four inches deep of spring mud. In falling he cut his forehead on the step fastened to the shaft, and the scar on his head is still plainly to be seen. It bled profusely, and his appearance in mud and blood caused his father to make fun of him so persistently that he was ashamed to appear in the piece. He never took part in such plays after that. He stooped to conquer. Notwithstanding his love of public speaking, he was always as nervous as a child whenever expecting to speak in public. One of his classmates at Wilbraham, and a member with him of a debating society, there called "The Club,'' told me at the time when Mr. Con- well delivered the oration at the dedication of the soldiers' monument at Billerica, Mass., of the first time Russell as a boy appeared in a debate at the Wilbraham 42 SCALING THE EAGLE S NEST. school. He had written out or thought out and com- mitted to memory a long speech, and as usual with school boys, quoted Patrick Henry. But all he could say in his confusion on being called up unexpectedly soon, was to stammer out, after many struggles and tears, "Give me liberty or give me death." The incident was published in the column of jokes in the Springfield Republican soon after, in 1859. But he soon became the leader in debate, and among many boys who have since become successful men, he took the foremost position as a speaker. Like John B. Gough, whom Mr. Conwell somewhat resembles, and who was many years his firm friend, Mr. Conwell has never wholly overcome that nervous sensitiveness when he is about to address an audience. In the law schools Russell seldom appeared in the moot courts or debates. He was too poor to dress to his taste, and for that reason shunned all publicity. But when the war opened in 1861, although he was but seventeen years of age, he suddenly became famous in Western Massachusetts as a patriotic speaker. It was a wonderful thing, and drew crowds of excited listeners wherever he went. Towns sent for him to help them raise their quotas of soldiers, and the ranks speedily filled before his inspiring and patriotic speeches. In 1862 I remember a scene at Whitman Hall in West- field, Mass., which none who were there can forget. SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. 43 Russell had delivered two addresses there before. On that night there were two addresses before his by prom- inent lawyers, but there was evident impatience to hear " The boy." When he came forward there was the most deafening applause. He really seemed inspired by miraculous powers. Every auditor was fascinated and held closely bound. There was for a time breathless suspense, and then at some telling sentence the whole building shook with wild applause. At its close a shower of bouquets from hundreds of ladies carpeted the stage in a moment, and men from all parts of the hall rushed forward to enlist. The keeper of the Park Hotel says that he had the bouquets brought from the hall in large clothes hampers. Mr. Conwell was the idol of the Westfield public for the time, and it is a wonder that the boy retained his senses. Every one said it would make him vain, and hinder his success, but still kept up their praise. During his service in the war he could not have had many opportunities to speak except in addressing meetings of soldiers which were seldom held. In 1863 or 1864 I think, when he re-enlisted after one term of service, he delivered his first lyceum lecture. Then he began that public career as a popular lecturer which has made him so well known in the United States and in England. His lecture that evening was on some historical subject, bearing on the benefits of previous wars, and was delivered 44 SCALING TUB eagle's nest. for the students of Mt. Holyoke Seminary in Hadley, Mass. I heard Mr. Conwell say some years ago that the lec- ture was a failure financially, and in delivery. Perhaps a failure then was the best thing that could happen to him, beginning so young. Many young heads have been turned to foolishness by early success. But in the beginning of his public work as an orator there appeared the great influence of the musical train- ing, and the most attractive thing about it perhaps, then, was the thoughts awakened and the impressions made by the musical changes and tones in his voice. When he delivered an address in Leeds, England, in 1870, on the "Old and New England," a critic writing for the London Telegraph said: " The young man is weirdly like his native hills. You can hear the cas- cades and the trickling streams in his tone of voice. He has a strange and unconscious power of so modu- lating his voice as to suggest the howl of the tempest in rocky declivities, or the soft echo of music in distant valleys. There would be great difference of opinion about his cleverness as a debater, but the breezy fresh- ness and natural suggestiveness of varied nature in its wild state was completely fascinating. He excelled in description, and the auditor could almost hear the Niagara roll as he described it, and listened to catch the sound of sighing pines in his voice as he told of the SCALING THE EAGLES NEST. 45 Carolinas. He was so unlike any other speaker, so completely natural that his blunders disarmed criticism." After the war he went to Minnesota and stayed for a time at St. Paul, where he united with the First Baptist Church, and where he made many friends. Afterwards he moved to Minneapolis, and opened a law and real estate office in that marvellously growing city. I do not know much of his career there as a public speaker, although I have heard that he lectured through the state and took such an active part in political cam- paigns and temperance contests, as to make many friends and also some bitter enemies. In his Fourth of July Oration in Springfield, Mass., 1875, he spoke of the happy days in Minnesota, and made that well remembered eulogy on Minnesota, that " Garner of America's noblest men and women." After the failure of his health through the breaking out of wounds while running to the fire which destroyed his home, he was obliged to leave the platform for a time, and became an extensive traveler. But in the Southern States, in the Western States and Territories, in California, China ports, India and England he was often compelled to deliver addresses, and when his health returned, and he opened a law office at Boston, Mass., his regular work as a platform lyceum lecturer became an established profession. For fifteen years he has been well-known and eagerly sought for through- 46 SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. out the New England and the Middle States. His lec- tures on science, literature, theology and travel, were again and again repeated in the same cities and towns. He was often forced to the platform in political cam- paigns. During all this time he was continually addressing Sunday-schools on special occasions, and for years delivered lay sermons on Sunday evenings for missions and destitute churches. It was as a lay preacher that he began his work in Lexington, Mass., where he was afterwards ordained. I have been told that the first Sabbath he preached there he had but seventeen auditors, but in a few weeks the house was crowded to the street at every service. When he removed to Philadelphia, he began again with a small congregation of about one hundred, and the triumphs which have followed were only to be ex- pected by his old acquaintances. With a church so crowded that public safety compelled the use of tickets of admission issued long in advance, and with a pros- pective church soon to be completed which will seat in the pews between four and five thousand people he stands where all of us expected he would stand. As a preacher he has the same fidelity to nature and is as simple and as earnest as a child. There is said to be no apparent effort at oratorical effect. He rises and falls like our spring floods, and never wrote out a SCALING THE EAGLES NEST. 47 sermon in his life for delivery. He is different from any other man. He can be compared with no one, yet not called eccentric. He speaks for some definite object. He gains it. In a few years his church in Philadelphia became one of the largest in the country, and as a pulpit orator he is now well known throughout the nation. Through what winding paths America's greatest men reach distinction ! Mr. Conwell's char- acter and oratory is a constant reproduction of our New England mountains, cloud-capped, granite hills, mag- nificent landscapes, deep valleys, wild woods, cliffs, dashing streams and autumn grandeur, all appear in varying ways in Mr. Conwell's utterances. He is fitly named "The Picturesque Orator." Mr. Conwell's celebrated lecture entitled " Acres of Diamonds," had been delivered nearly one thousand times in 1881, and that is but one of a long list, which he delivers in his winter tours, and at summer com- mencements and anniversaries. At Chautauqua his addresses draw crowded audiences, and when he lectured in the Mormon Tabernacle at Salt Lake City, on " Men of the Mountains," it is said that before the sale was stopped, over twelve thousand purchased tickets to hear him on one evening. His correspon- dence, answering applications for addresses, lectures and sermons, reach often a hundred letters a day. CHAPTER V. THE AUTHOR. He edits the Minneapolis Chronicle — He writes for the Boston Traveller — He is engaged as a regular corres- pondent for London and New York papers — His first book, " Why and how the Chinese emigrate'' — Memo- rial services of Bayard Taylor — Longfellow's poem — List of Mr. Conw ell's books. 1AM not altogether sure that I have seen all of Mr. ConwelPs books, and I must often refer to the opinion of others. His descriptive powers as a writer were first exhibited in his correspondence for newspapers. He became first known in connection w 7 ith his own paper, the Minneapolis Chronicle, which was afterwards merged with the Atlas into the Minne- apolis Tribune. But later, when he wrote a remarkable series of letters for the Boston Traveller, his success became permanent. He visited all the battle fields of the Civil War in the Southern States and described their appearance five years after the war. The letters were copied throughout the country, and " Russell's Letters from the Battle Fields " were regularly seen in SCALING THE EAGLE'S NEST. 49 all parts of the land, copied from the Traveller entire. He identified many graves and many skeletons, and corrected many historical errors. He gathered a large collection of mementoes from the battle fields, which people in the North and the South recognized as belonging to their friends and loved ones. His descriptions were so vivid that old soldiers would exclaim as they read, " That's where I stood," or, " I can see the whole battle again." Those letters called attention to him in other places, and he was soon engaged as a regular correspondent for London and New York papers. His letter from Hong Kong, China, to the New York Tribune on " Chinese Emigration " innocently caused some diplomatic diffi- culty through the exposure of the labor contract system. One of his letters to the Boston Traveller in 1870 contained the widely known account of the gambling- house and the reforming influence of Miss Carey's hymn : " One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o'er and o'er, I'm nearer my home to-day Than I've ever been before." The story is published in full in " Butterfield's Story of the Hymns," and in " Long's History of Hymns," and in many other books. The reform of the rough old sailor by hearing his young companion sing those words 5 ru c LU r- > : * : ,J ~' 00 i [cm Si BRITTLE DO NOT ■ PH0 T ^0?Y JUL 2 1945