Both possessed honorable pride, and were plain, unpretending people, making no claim to an aristocratic ancestry, but, after a long life spent in a growing city of considerable size, they died, leaving many to speak their praises, and not one, that I have ever heard of, to say aught against them. He departed this life at the age of sixty-two, having enjoyed robust health until within two weeks of his death. His widow was gathered as a shock of corn, fully ripe, into the garner of the Lord, at the advanced age of eight-one.
From an obituary notice of her I will quote the following lines: Mrs. Sarah Charless was an exemplary Christian, and was one of the most zealous and untiring in her exertions to build up the Presbyterian Church established in this city under the pastoral care of the Rev. Salmon Giddings. Eminently charitable in her disposition, and ever willing to alleviate the evils of others, she endeared to her all upon whom the hand of misfortune hung heavily. Well was it said of her by one of the most eminent men of our State-the Hon. Edward Bates-that she was a woman upon whom the young man, far from friends and home, could always rely.
Of a family of eight children, viz: Robert McCloud, Edward, John, Joseph, Anne, Eliza, Chapman, and Sarah Charless, Joseph alone was left in this pilgrimage word to mourn for his mother. Eliza Wahrendorff, daughter of Anne Charless Wahrendorff, and Lizzie Charless, your own dear mother, were the only grandchildren left to mingle their tears with his. Great was the void caused in our small family circle when this excellent woman, this aged Christian, this revered and much loved parent was laid in the silent tomb. It is sweet now to think about her love of flowers, and how often she would say, when they commenced shooting up in early spring, that they reminded her of the resurrection morning. May you, my dear mother, realize the blessedness of this truth-when Jesus shall bid his redeemed ones rise from the cold ground which has so long shrouded them-and come forth, more beautiful than the hyacinth, to bloom forever on the borders of the river of life! And may you, my sweet children, have a pleasant and happy childhood, loving all that is lovely and hating all this is evil, that you may grow up to be good men and women; and in old age, when memory fails, may you, like her, rejoice and revel again amid the innocent scenes of early life, looking through them up to that glorious world above us, where the inhabitant shall no more say he is sick, or shall feel the infirmities of age.
Affectionately, GRANDMA.
Letter Three
MY DEAR GRANDCHILDREN:
You, Charless and Louis, often say to me, Grandma, tell me about when you were a little girl, and many a little story have I told you. But now I am going to tell you about Grandpa, when he was a little boy.
That dear, good grandpa, who looked young to grandma, but who looked so old to you, with his pretty, glossy grey hair, was once a little boy, just like you are. He had a dear mamma, too, who tenderly loved him, but she used to punish him when he was naughty, and kiss him when he was good, just as your mamma does to you. He was a very obstinate little fellow, though, and generally submitted to a good deal of punishment before he would confess his fault and beg for forgiveness. His mamma would sometimes tie him to the bed-post, but he would pull against the string until his arm would almost bleed, and frequently he would free himself by gnawing the cord in two. But he was a good-humored little boy for all that, and mischievous as a house pig, his mother used to say. Once she locked him up, for some naughty trick, in a room where there were a number of nice fresh made cheeses, arranged around for the purpose of drying, and said to him, Stay there, Joe, until you mean to be good, and then I will let you out. He very soon knocked at the door, calling out, Mamma, mamma, Ill be good now, and his mamma thought my little son is conquered very soon this time; he is certainly improving. She opened the door, but what, do you suppose, was her dismay, when she found that the little rogue had bit a mouthful out of every cheese!
When he was a small child he strayed off from the house, away down to the spring, and, stooping down to see the pretty clear water, fell in, and came near being drowned. Oh, how his poor mother did cry, when her sweet little boy was brought to her so pale, and almost lifeless. But she rubbed him and warmed him until he came to, and was as well as ever; and his mamma thought surely such an accident will never again happen to my dear little son. But when he grew to be a larger boy, some time after his parents had removed from Kentucky to St. Louis, he went one day with some boys to have a swimming match in the Mississippi river. Most boys like to swim or wade in the water, and sometimes are so eager for the sport that they forget, or give no heed to the expressed commands of their parents; and many a boy has lost his life by breaking the fifth commandment, which says, Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. Many a boy who, had he lived, might have become a good and noble-hearted man, doing much good in the world, has thus early been summoned suddenly and unprepared before the judgment bar of God, simply for having forgotten, in a moment of pleasurable excitement, to honor his parents by a strict obedience to their commands. But, thanks to our Heavenly Father, this was not the case with little Joseph Charless, for, although he was drawn by the current of the terrible Mississippi into a whirling eddy, he was saved from such a dreadful doom. A good, brave boy, who was larger than he, and a better swimmer, rushed into the whirl and pulled him out to the shore. Poor little fellow! he was almost gone, for he was insensible, and it was some time before he breathed freely again. He was carried home-to that dear home which came so near being made desolate-and with deep penitence did he confess his fault and beg for pardon. His last thoughts when he was drowning (as he thought) were, I have disobeyed my mother! It will break my poor mothers heart!
Children have a great deal of curiosity, and perhaps you will ask, how did grandma know so much about grandpa when he was a little boy? Was she a little girl then, and did she live in St. Louis, too? No, my children, when my parents moved to St. Louis I was a young lady and grandpa was a young gentleman. We soon became acquainted, however, and after awhile we were married, and then I took a strange fancy to learn all about him from the time he was a little baby in his mothers arms; and when I ventured to ask his mother a few questions about him, I found it pleased her so much that I was encouraged to ask many more. And now it seems to me I have known grandpa always, and was with him when he used to go with his mamma and little brothers and sisters into the country, with a company of the neighbors, all in little French carts, to gather strawberries and blackberries, which grew in abundance in Lucas Place, Chouteau avenue, and all about, where now are elegant mansions and paved streets. It was then a prairie, with clumps of trees here and there, springs of water and sweet wild flowers.