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Excerpts from Souvenir Submitted by David M. Waid |
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RETR0SPECTIVE
THOUGHTS. (WRITTEN JANUARY 25, 1889.) "I believe if in my grave, Hidden in woody deeps all by the
wave, Your eyes should drop some warm tears
of regret, From every salty seed of your deep
grief Some fair, sweet blossom would leap
into leaf, To prove that Death could not make my
love forget."
ONE OF THE "HUMBLER, POETS."
Once again let me pause in quiet, retrospective thought; let me
stand aside to see the phantoms of past days go by me, accompanying the
shadow of myself in dim procession. Weeks,
months, years glide along. They
seem little more than a summer day and a winter evening.
I find in my hand to-day the marriage ring I placed upon Eliza's
finger nearly thirty-five years ago, and a keepsake book, "The Family
Circle," which I gave her April 3, 1853, after our engagement but
before our marriage. While
looking in my library I take from its shelves this neat little volume,
which I find in a good state of preservation, though it has been read and
reread with much profit to both of us.
The value to me of this little book is increased as I read on the
fly-leaf the inscription: "Eliza
C. Masiker, April 3, 1853," and "Francis
C. Waid, April 3, 1853," both in our own handwriting. If this little memento is so valuable to me, I ask what
should be the Bible? I have stood aside to see the phantoms of those days go by. They are gone, and I resume the thread of my story. TRIP
TO WASHINGTON, D. C. FEBRUARY, 1889. "Our nature consists in motion:
perfect rest is death."
PASCAL.
Although I have seen nearly all the large cities of my country, it
was left until a recent period for me to enjoy a visit to its capital, the
City of Washington, the seat of government of the best nation in the
world. I had had many
opportunities to make this journey, but for one reason and another had
never embraced them. Having
the means and disposition to go to a certain place does not necessarily
take us there; we need an actual start, and at times it takes more than
mere inclination to give us that start; we need a strong incentive.
This is as true of all earthly journeys as it is of the journey to
the Heavenly City. Merely
wishing to go, having friends and the Bible to point the way, and even
Christ to lead us, will not without will and determination on our own part
lead us to the gates of the New Jerusalem.
How will it ever be made unless we start, and start to-day.
Are you aware, my reader, how much meaning there is within the
little word, "Now"? All the years you may have lived have at one time been
included in this little word of three letters.
Do you not know that future happiness depends upon how we improve
the present?
To return to our Washington trip--In company with my
brother-in-law, Mr. G. W. Cutshall, I left
Meadville, February 28, 1889, for the National capital, to attend the
inauguration of President Benjamin Harrison, and to visit the many points
of interest in the city. In
leaving for Washington, however, I had a motive that was of far more
importance to me than that which impelled me to visit its sights, and that
was that I purposed attending the wedding of my son, Fred
F. Waid, to Minnie Haines, of
Brookville, Jefferson County. This
wedding had a two-fold pleasure for me from the fact that I was married on
the day that I was twenty-one, and that Fred was within one day of the
same age when united, on the 7th of March, to Miss Haines.
We obtained a rest on the first night of our journey at Pittsburgh,
where we visited Jacob Cutshall, a brother of
my traveling companion, and whom we had not seen in several years.
This visit I shall always pleasantly remember.
We left the Union depot on the morning of Friday, March 1, on a
Pennsylvania Central train. We
were accompanied by a jolly crowd of excursionists bound like ourselves
for the inauguration. Let a
person who has never made the journey from Pittsburgh through the great
Keystone State by all means make it.
The scenery is grand, no other word can describe it.
I would like to travel through that beautiful country, amid such
scenes of sublimity, again and again.
"The horseshoe curve," "Spruce Creek tunnel"!
their very photographs are pleasing; how much more enjoyable then
to see them in their native state! Farther
along the route are Jack's and Lewiston Narrows, and if you be not yet
satisfied gaze upon "Alleghany Mountain tunnel," or catch a
glimpse of Altoona.
Dear reader, in this life we are never out of reach of
disappointments. It was well
for me that I formed the acquaintance of a gentleman named O.
A. Hibbs, of Harrisburgh, Ill., otherwise I should have been
without a companion during the rest of my trip.
My disappointment arose from the fact that, by an unfortunate
accident, I became separated from Mr. Cutshall and did not see him again
until I reached his brother's home in Pittsburgh on my return.
At Harrisburgh, where we stopped twenty minutes, the conductor
said: "All passengers
for Washington remain in this car."
As I wished to make a note in my diary, Mr. Cutshall said he would
step out and bring me a lunch; from that moment we were separated, he
going by accident into the first section of the train, and although in the
depot at the capital, we could not have been more than an hour apart, we
failed to find each other. Several
times during the inauguration we must have been very close, but we did not
meet. He left the city one
hour ahead of Mr. Hibbs and myself, and thus I followed him to his
brother's. Our attachments,
however, are not so easily separated as our persons, and we were extremely
glad to meet once again. A
lesson is to be learned from incidents of this nature, and the one that
comes most naturally is that from our disappointments we may learn wisdom.
I have during years past traveled thousands of miles with Mr.
Cutshall, but never once have we been separated.
At times we have failed to make proper train connections, and have
met disappointments in other forms, but this was always our consolation: "We are together."
And if we were again to travel, I think that our Washington
experience would cause us to appoint a place of meeting at the point of
destination, so that in ease of separation on the way it would be but of
short duration.
As I have said before, it was a source of great pleasure to me to
have met Mr. Hibbs. We became
warm friends during the short time of our intercourse, and we lodged
together at the house of Mrs. Eugenie Tabler,
No. 224 Thirteenth Street, South Washington, where we found a pleasant
home during our sojourn in the city.
The first object toward which Mr. Hibbs and I bent our steps was
the great Washington Obelisk, a monument of Maryland marble erected to the
memory of the Father of his Country.
It is of imposing appearance, as one may judge when its dimensions
are given; a shaft rising to the immense height of 555 feet, 4 inches may
well inspire awe as one gazes upon it from its base.
Its walls are 15 feet thick, at the base, and 18 inches at the top.
Resting upon a space of ground 55 feet, 1 1/2 inches square, the
obelisk tapers to 34 feet, 5 1/2 inches at the height of 500 feet, from
which point a pyramid roof has been erected.
The work began in 1848, and when in 1855 a height of 178 feet was
reached, the building ceased. In
1876 the Government took charge of the labor of its completion, and in
December, 1884, the copestone was placed in position.
The interior is fitted with iron stairs, which ascend to the
beginning of the roof. An
elevator carries passengers to the extreme top.
On the inner walls are blocks contributed by the different States
and Territories. Two hundred
and thirty thousand dollars had been expended by the monument society when
Congress undertook to complete the obelisk, and since then the
appropriation has been $900,000. Next
to this monument in height comes the city building of Philadelphia, which
towers to an altitude of 537 feet. Next
is the Cologne Cathedral, whose spire reaches Heavenward a distance of 424
feet, 11 inches. The public
first gained admission to the obelisk in 1888.
The monument inspired me with much more enthusiasm as I gazed upon
it than did the world-famed obelisk in Central Park, New York, which I
visited with my son Guinnip in September,
1887. As we viewed the vast
pile from various parts of the city and surrounding, I thought of the
greatness of the man to whose memory it was erected.
While we stood at its base we saw people chipping pieces from the
slabs that were broken off when the marble was dressed, and pocketing them
as relics, so we secured a piece each in the same way.
The meriting of our visit, just at nine o'clock, we waited for the
opening of the massive doors that led to the interior, and luckily were
among the first to gain admission. We
took our places in the elevator, and were soon at the top, from whence the
view is magnificent; the city, the Potomac River and a vast stretch of
country lie beneath you, forming a feast for the eye.
I love even now to recall the monument to memory.
I may add to the above description that history tells us the corner
stone was laid by President Polk July 4, 1848; and from the Knoxville Tribune
I read: "Completed;
December 6, 1884, the copestone was placed in position."
The monument is made of blocks of marble two feet thick, and it is
said that more than 18,000 were used, the total cost being $1,300,000.
There are 900 steps. No
wonder the Washington Monument is great, the highest work of man!
The skill and ingenuity of man have ascended to their loftiest
height to honor George Washington, and the youth of our country will ever
be inspired by the name and memory of GEORGE WASHINGTON.
I will mention, without lengthened description, some of the other
points of interest that we touched, before I speak of the Capitol.
First came the Agricultural Department, where were a number of lady
clerks doing up packages of seeds. Next
we saw the Smithsonian Institute and the National Musium, where there are
so many relics of George Washington and Martha Washington and Gen. Grant.
The Patent Office, Fort Meyer and Arlington House came next in the
order of sight-seeing. The
Arlington House was once occupied by G. W. Parke
Custis, the adopted son of our first president, and later by Robert
E. Lee, commander of the Confederate forces during the Rebellion.
At Arlington Cemetery are buried over 16,000 soldiers, and directly
in front of the mansion rests Gen. P. H. Sheridan.
We attended, on the 4th of March, the inaugural ceremonies.
There were more people present at the inducting into office of
President Harrison than on any similar occasion in the history of the
country. The parade was fully
eight miles in length, and it is said that there were fully 50,000 people
in line. Mr. Hibbs and I
stood at Ninth Street and Pennsylvania Avenue from 1 o'clock until 5, or
from the time that the presidential coach had passed until the last cow
boy from the West had ridden by on his broncho.
In the waiting-room of the Baltimore & Washington Railway depot
President Garfield was shot at by the assassin, Guiteau, and there is yet
to be seen a stain of his life blood upon the floor to mark the spot where
he fell. While in the city we
visited both houses of Congress while in session.
It was certainly worth a great deal to me to visit the capitol, and
to hear the speeches of the members of the lower house, and the debates
and speeches in the Senate. It
broadens a man's mind to visit halls of legislation and to get some idea
of the legislative methods of our country.
The capitol is a building 751 feet long, 324 feet broad, and the
dome rises to an altitude of 397 feet above low water mark of the Potomac
River. The great bronze door
at the front entrance weighs 20,000 pounds, and cost $28,000.
The building covers an area of three and a half acres, and its cost
with the dome was $15,000,000. The
view from the dome is indeed fine, but its height being less than that of
the monument before described, not as great an area of country can be seen
from its noble gilded top.
There is so much of beauty in our country's capital city that I
must say I withdrew from it with reluctance, but duty called my attention
in another direction and to a most important event in the life of one of
my children, the marriage of my son.
It is with a heart full of gratitude that I remember my own
marriage, and the happy after life until the time that my beloved wife was
taken from me. Knowing the
importance of the step my boy Fred was about to take, and realizing that
not only duty but his wish called me to his side, I left Washington and
started on my homeward journey.
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