| Page | ||
|---|---|---|
| Biography | [9] | |
| Appendix A | ||
| Lincoln in 1864 | [49] | |
| Appendix B | ||
| The power of personality | [53] | |
| Appendix C | ||
| The man who did me a good turn | [57] | |
| Appendix D | ||
| An inscription in a copy of “Echoes from the Sabine Farm” | [61] | |
HARLOW NILES HIGINBOTHAM
Harlow Niles Higinbotham, represented, to a singular degree, the best citizenship of the second and third half-centuries of the Republic. Born on an Illinois farm October tenth, 1838; educated in his native state; serving as a volunteer soldier through the Civil War; employed by a small dry-goods house and working for it loyally and with perfect integrity until it had become one of the greatest merchandising firms in the world, and he one of its most active partners; responding with ardor to every public call, whether it came from a newsboys’ and bootblacks’ club or from the World’s Columbian Exposition; retiring from business at sixty or more, and giving his later years, with beautiful devotion, to his family and his favorite charities and public works; and dying at eighty in full career and with faculties unimpaired; such a life epitomizes the strength and character of the nation during its robust and adventurous formative period.
The story of his earlier years may be outlined in Mr. Higinbotham’s own words; for a rough manuscript, autobiographical but written in the third person, was found among his papers after his sudden death. It begins as follows:
“Harlow Niles Higinbotham was born on a farm near Joliet, Illinois, October tenth, 1838. His father was Henry Dumont Higinbotham, who was born on January tenth, 1806, and died in 1865. His mother was Rebecca Wheeler Higinbotham. Both were born in Oneida County, New York. They moved to a farm in the Township of Joliet, Illinois, in 1834. The Higinbotham family came originally from Holland, removing thence to England, thence to the Barbados Islands and from there to the United States.
“The farm, upon which Henry Dumont Higinbotham settled, was made up of lands purchased from the Government by him and not previously under cultivation. It is still in possession of the family, enlarged by purchases and inheritance from the late Mrs. Harlow N. Higinbotham’s estate; her son, Harlow Davison Higinbotham, being the present owner and resident. For years a beautiful feature of it has been the carnation greenhouses—for the subject of this memoir made that flower his special hobby, and propagated many new varieties.
“Henry Dumont Higinbotham built and operated saw-mills with water-power furnished by Hickory Creek, a stream that runs through the farm. In the early days farmers for many miles brought their wheat and corn there to be ground, and his compensation was a percentage of the grain brought, called toll. This he ground, and sold as flour and meal. He also kept cattle and hogs that were fattened by feeding at or near the mill, the tailings being used in part for that purpose. Being one of the early settlers in that section, he was looked upon with reverence by his neighbors, and was always called ‘Uncle Henry’ and his wife ‘Aunt Rebecca.’
“When Harlow N. Higinbotham was a small boy the farther fence of his father’s farm was the last evidence of civilization in that direction. In later years he used to say: ‘I remember going with my father when he went out to erect a flag-pole in the middle of the prairie as a preliminary for a wolf-hunt that was held at least once each year. On a given morning all the settlers would start on horseback, with dogs and guns and horns, from the outer edge of a circle having a radius of ten or more miles, and work towards the center, where the flag-pole had been erected. In this way wild animals would be driven into a pocket, surrounded and killed. This was made necessary to protect the sheep, swine and poultry of the settlers. I have seen wolves kill our sheep in our own fields.’”
In one of his addresses is another reference to his early life:
“Our fathers were pioneers on the prairies of Illinois. There we early learned the lessons of Nature, and recognized and loved the message that the recurring seasons had for us. The flowers of the field and the forest were our companions, and we knew when and where to look for them; we knew the habit and habitat of each, and they were an open book to us. We knew the birds, and were not long in discovering that by their flight and their notes we could tell the season, and almost the hour of the day. When we heard in the field the love-note of the pinnated grouse, or in the woods heard the drumming of his ruffed cousin on the logs, we knew it was time to plough and plant. An approaching storm was announced with certainty by the coming of the quail from his seclusion in the thicket to a position where he could make his message heard. The crooning of the cricket, and the call of the katydid, each had a meaning and message that we understood. These constituted the catechism from which we learned to believe in Deity, and the larger and diviner life for man.”