The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1888-03-21
General StrOther.

General David Hunter Strother of
Crayon" of Harper'S Magazine in
1854, whose death was noticed last
week, was venerable looking man, with
huge white whiskers and moustache
covering all the lower part of his face,
and quiet, almost dreamy, eyes looking
out from under noble forehead. His
disposition was genial, but modest and
retiring. A year and half ago, when he
celebrated his SEVENTEEN birthday, he
said to friend: 81 weigh one hun
dred sixty pounds in my summer tog-
gerry, walk my five miles without ia
tigue, and am not conscious of any
pains, aches or discomforts whatso-
ever. have accomplished the three
score years and ten, but labor and
sorrow have not yet come upon me,
for my days pass in cheerful tranquil
ity." He was born in Virginia, His
father, who had been an officer in the
war of 1872, was man of great in
dependence of thought, with stern,
incorporating sense of duty, and
was somewhat unhappy over the artis-
tic tendencies displayed by his only
boy. Nevertheless, he sent his son to
New York, where he was taken in
charge by Professor Morse, then a
somewhat erratic artist, afterwards to
become the famous inventor of the tele-
graph. Later on trip to Europe was
made, and four years study in Rome
and other European countries broad
ened the culture of the young man and
gave opportunities to a youth naturally
of an observing turn of mind and prone
to philosophize on what he saw. Then
came return to Virginia and a trip to
the West and South, and about this
time the first published sketches. The
Hon. John 7. Kennedy of Baltimore,
who was then in his heyday as the
author of 4" Horseshoe Robinson and
other then very popular works, was
warm friend, but undertook to dissuade
his cousin from entering upon liter
airy career. But the first numbers of
1.-The Virginian Canaan " very quickly
settled the question of the authors
talent and by their popularity attested
that his pen and pencil had charm
that few others possessed.
In but few years Porte Crayon's
name was household word wherever
Hdrper's Magazine went, and where
was that not in those days? He was
their highest-paid contributor and be-
loved from one end of the country to
the other for his charm and grace.
Then came the John Brown thunder
bolt which fell upon Harper's Ferry.
Porte Crayon, living near by, was on
the ground within a few hours, and
then and for the weeks which followed
sketched the leading events and phil
osophized on the social problems which
he was then compelled to consider.
Virginia and tradition were at his
back; before his face the question of
whether all men had indeed been Gre
ated free and equal, or, if not, what all
that declaration by his forefathcrs
meant. The dilettante artist became
changed man. Life had assumed a
more serious phase in his own home
than he had yet been called upon to
consider either in Europe or America.
His mind was made up. He beheld
the approach of the inevitable struggle.
He was very near the border, and he
organized and equipped at his own ex-
pense company of his Virginia
townsmen, to whom he preached the
doctrine of the Union. But his efforts
were useless, and when the struggle
actually came local prejudices and state
pride carried his carefully-drille con-
tingent into the confederate ranks,
while their commander was obliged to
hurry off in the night to Washington.
In the busy days that followed he
found himself on the staff of General
Mcclellan, riding hard during the day
and sitting down on battlefield or in
a deserted farmhouse at night to write
out in detail the experiences of the
day-many times Selling lull in the
battle to draw out his sketch-book and