The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1878-02-09
An Unfortunate Man.

A MAN named William WOOdVille
stumbled down a step in the sidewalk
on North Clark street SATURDAY., and
broke his right leg just above the ankle.
1t didn't hurt him much, for the mem
Der was made of steel springs and
English willow, but his history is
worth brief notice as showing how
ill-luck follows some men in a peculiar
way through the whole course of their
life. Some are unlucky with women.
others in business, others at cards,
others in horses. This mans misfort-
une has been from his earliest infancy
to be continually getting broken or
mangled when others escaped without
a scratch. So peculiar and continuous
has been his experience in this that his
mind has yielded to the stern teachings
of hard events, and he expects, nay, he
knows, that just about once in so long
he will have a call for a physician, or
the saw and scythe of surgeon. The
story of his life would seem incredible
were it not vouched for by several rep
utable persons.
One of his first exploits was when he
was little boy on his fathers farm, in
Orange County, New York He was
reaping oats one day with a sickle, and
contrived to cut off the little finger of
his left hand. A few years later, in
wrestling, he got a heavy fall and
broke his right collar bone. A run
away horse broke his two arms, and a
fall while skating slightly fractured his
skull-all before he reached maturity
He was Il pretty-well-patched indi-
vidual when he, got married and started
west to settle in Cedarburg, Ozaukee
County, Wis, in 1865. A railway ac-
cident on the road came near ending
his acquaintance with splints and ban
dages, for, besides breaking his leg, it
so injured his spine that for months his
life was matter of chance. He re-
covered and was getting around well
again, when one day at "rais-
ing'' log which had been I" skidded"
almost to the top of the barn broke
away from the raisers, and when it fell
he was the only man that didn't escape
He wasn't hurt much, then, however,
only had some of his ribs and his nose
broken, and he began to hope for better
things.
In 1860, while engaged in stouing a
well on his farm, the windlass broke
and the bucket came down. He had
time to dodge and only had his shoulder
broken. His courage never failed him.
Bothered and worried rs he was, when
the war broke out he tried to enlist, be-
ing the only man in his town who of
fered to volunteer. He wasn't hand
some enough after all that had hap
pened to him to be accepted among the
first $4,000. In 1862 Hon. Jos. Rankin,
of Manitowoc, now State Senator of
Wisconsin, raised company, and
Woodville made a personal appeal to
him to be allowed to enlist. He was
accepted. In the army it was the old
story over again. He was always get
ting hurt He wound up by losing a
leg at Fort Donelson and was sent
home. Shortly after his return his wife
died, and, being unable to follow farm
ing with wooden leg, he sold out and
moved to Chicago. He started small
grocery store and was getting along
passably, when one night, Just as he was
about closing, three bold robbers en-
tered and went for his wealth. In the
row that ensued blow of bludgeon
Knocked out his right eye and left him
senseless. The robbery and loss occa-
stoned by illness closed his grocery.
He started small book stall and was
patching out his pension with its small
profits when, in 1874, smallpox took
hold of all that was left of him, and
carved him even more ferociously than
the surgeons had done
Since then he had boarded on the
North Side, living on his pension most
of the time. The winter of 1856 he
spent at the Soldiers Home, Milwaukee,
and there had the misfortune to lose
both ears and the toes of the remaining
foot by frost. For year past he es-
capped injury, possibly because there
was so little of him left The breaking
of the timber member was the first re-
minder he had had since his return that
he was not forgotten. -.. ...
A reporter, having heard something
of his eventful history, sought him at
his boarding-place yesterday. The an
cient wreck was as cheerful as cricket
as he sat there patching up the broken
leg. He shows no signs of discourage
ment, and remarked that though bloody
and breathless he was "still in the
ring" A belief that he was born to be
hacked and broken has taken posses
sion of his mind and heregards accidents
as part of his personal property. What
remains of him is tifty-eight years old
and looks as if it would stand some more
mangling before it follows what has
gone before. Chicago Times.