The Lake County star. [volume] (Chase, Mich.) 1873-current, 1875-03-11
NUMBER 45.
A Remarkable Person.
New York Sun.

Il ~
lem, numbered 1,436 Second Avenue,
lives Mr.. Edward McGovern, probably
the oldest man in the city of New York.
Sitting before his evening fire of blazing
coke, his feet toasting comfortably Oh the
hearth, Mr.. McGovern recounted, in
querulous tones and broken sentences, the
story of Ills life. The old mans form is
bent nearly double with its fast-increasing
burden, and his body is little better than
a piece of parchment stretched over the
machinery of bones. More than a centu.
ry of life has turned his hair to cover
ing of snowy flax, and his face is wrinkled
with a multitude of burrows which cross
each other in every direction. His talk
is the disconnected and rambling thoughts
of failing reason, called Vi by the painful
effort of an uncertain recollection.
Mr.. McGovern was born in the spring
of 1863, the year which saw the birth of
Napoleon, Wellington, and other histor-
ical characters, and he Is, therefore,
nearly one hundred and six years old.
His birthplace was in the north of Ire
land, in the province of Ulster, the
county of Cavan, and the parish of Tenn
pleport. His father was a prosperous
farmer, coming of long-livcd race, and
died at ripe old age. The son followed
the same calling, and spent his youth in
the uneventful duties of plow-bOy and
cowherd. Ofhis early life Mr.. McGovern
remembers little, except that he was
wild boy at school, particularly fond OF
athletic sports, and that later he was ac-
counted the favorite gallant of his county.
He was also the best fowler, wrestler, and
boxer in his town, and he relates, with
excusable, pride, that he was never beaten
at a shooting match, and was never
"tossed" from the ring but once, and
then by professional athlete.
Mr.. McGOvern was intimately ac-
quainted with Robert Emmett, who con-
spired to overflow the English throne,
and his cousin, Thomas NcGovern, was
the rich Dublin wine merchant who had
arms brought to Ireland in wine casks
from France to aid this conspiracy.
Mr.. McGovern goes to bed about nine
o'clock in the evening, but is unable to
sleep, and rolls upon his bed and talks to
himself all night. He falls into heavy
sleep early in the morning, and does not
awake to life till six or seven o'clock
the following night. Till lately hewa
obliged to wear glasses, but now he studies
his manual with unaided vision, having
attained, as he says, his Second sight"
Just before he rises he calls to his daugh-
ter and enjoins her to build rousing
fire, and unless the coke is piled high in
a blazing flame, he is not slow in express
ing his dissatisfaction, and will retire to
his bed in disgust. He takes a bath as
soon as he is up and spends an hour in
reciting the Lords Prayer, the Prayer of
the Holy Virgin, and other petitions.
In the course of these recitations he takes
down from the mantel-piece string
of antique beads, and reverently counts
them, beginning at the ebony cross and
going around them again and again. He
is then ready for "square meal" that
would more than satisfy the appetite of a
vigorous, hungry workingman. The
rest of his time before going back to bed
he spends in putting away at a short
stemmed, discolored clay pipe.
Mr.. McGovern has been temperate
through his whole life, butts by no means
a prohibitionist. His daughter says she
has never known him to be sick a day in
his life or to be intoxicated, though the
old man is still fond of glass of punch,
or a glass of old Irish whisky. One of
hissons-in-laws upplies him with his favor
ite beverages.
McGovern is still as hale and vigorous
physically as most men of seventy, and is
apparently good for dozen or fifteen
years more. A few weeks ago he called
his daughter into the kitchen, and to
show her his activity, sang a song and
danced an irish jig The song he loves
best, and which he still chants with pleas
ant, tremulous tones, is the story of
willie Reilly" 1t is an Irish ballad
of seventy years ago, detailing the true
history of rich and titled heiress who
ran away with poor coachman, and
who, by her fearful pleas in court, saved
him from the legal punishment-that of
hanging--for the crime of eloping with
royalty. The song is composed of
twenty-five or thirty verses and Mr.. Nc
Govern repeats them all without diff
Guilty.
Oh, rise up Willie Reilly, and come along with me
mean togo along with you and leave this counteree