Chapter IX: Part II: C. C. Hine and His Times (4)

During this time he received four wounds and two furloughs, one of ten days for bravery on the field of battle and one of thirty days after serving three years in the ranks. And Mr. Kinsey says he “had no special adventures—just plenty of fighting”.

By the time his mother had given her consent to his enlistment all the New Jersey regiments were full, so this fifteen-year-old boy went to New York and enlisted at Fort Schuyler in the First Long Island Regiment, which was principally raised through the efforts of Henry Ward Beecher, whose brother was chaplain to the regiment and whose son was a lieutenant therein. This regiment was later known as the 67th N. Y., and when its members became decimated by slaughter it was merged in the 65th N. Y.

Mr. Kinsey was in all the principal engagements of the Army of the Potomac except that at Winchester. During the Battle of the Wilderness he received a bullet in his leg which he carries yet. At the Seven Days’ Battle, under Brigadier General Abercrombie, his regiment could see nothing in front because of fields of tall grain, and he alone volunteered to scout, keeping a couple of hundred yards more or less in advance of the line, climbing trees and exposing himself in other ways, and it was for this exhibition of bravery that he received the ten days’ furlough referred to above.

He was promoted to the sergeancy of Company C, 67th N. Y.; was shot in the head while before Petersburg, a “minie” ball, which is about the size of one’s thumb, passing through his cheek and out of the back of his head at the base of the brain. Because of this wound he was in the Fairfax Seminary, which had been turned into a hospital, when Lincoln was shot, but through the efforts of Governor Ward was transferred to Newark, and was here in the hospital some three months, being mustered out while still a patient, on August 8, 1865.

Mr. Kinsey came to Woodside in 1867 and has ever since resided at the northeast corner of Summer place and May street, in the first house erected by Morrison & Briggs.

DR. J. E. JANES.

Dr. J. E. Janes is worth a good word if for no other reason than because of the good he did. The Doctor never refused to go when a call came, no matter what the night, or if he knew that there was no money compensation for him. He was endowed with that good Samaritan disposition that is so typical of our associations with all that is best in the old-fashioned country doctor—everybody’s friend and at the service of all. When the Doctor found it necessary to remove his family to the balm of the southern California coast Woodside lost a man.

MR. PETER WEILER.

Mr. Peter Weiler of the River road is spoken of as a man of large stature and determination and, withal, not easily bluffed. When the Paterson & Newark Railroad (now the Newark Branch of the Erie) was put through, the railroad people made every effort to avoid adequate payment for the land taken, and in many cases they succeeded in securing the property for little or nothing, but such an arrangement did not at all meet with the views of Mr. Weiler, and when they attempted to rush his place he built a rail fence across the proposed line of track and mounted guard with a shotgun, and the railroaders, like Davy Crocket’s coon, came down.

BELLARS.

One of the queer sticks of the times was Bellars, the church organist. No one ever called him “Mr.” Bellars—he was just plain Bellars—an odd combination of ignorance and musical genius. He could not read the simplest Sunday school music but, once he heard a tune, nothing could drive it out of his head.

When it came to new music he was a trying proposition and grievously tormented Mr. Hine’s patience. Occasionally there were stormy scenes about the organ loft, and at least once Mr. Hine threatened to dismiss him if there was not an immediate improvement, winding up his peroration with “It’s a short horse and it’s soon curried”.

During the latter years of the Bellars reign Mr. Hine owned a house on Cottage street, opposite the school house, which he allowed the former to occupy rent free as compensation for his weekly performance on the organ, and somehow the organist got it into his twisted noddle that the house had been given to him for work done, and it became necessary for the court to pass on the matter.

Bellars employed Will Cumming as his attorney, and the latter showed considerable genius in handling the case, for he led his forlorn hope in such fashion that he almost prevailed against the facts, and as Mr. Hine’s lawyer was as lame as Will was active, the case actually looked serious at one time because of the ease with which the young man whipped the elder around the legal stump.

Bellars was the music teacher of the neighborhood at a time when my benighted parents conceived the notion that I should learn to play the piano. Now, while Mr. Hine was very musical, my mother’s one standard of music was the speed at which it was performed, and one could play to her on a Sunday such a secular composition as “Yankee Doodle”, if only it were played slow and solemnly, and she would accept it as orthodox without hesitation, and I am my mother’s son when it comes to musical matters; hence I call my parents benighted for casting their money before Bellars.

So far as can be judged, at this distance, Bellars’s chief notion of the teacher’s function was to receive the dollar, or whatever the lesson cost. Thus we can readily comprehend what the result must have been when such a teacher and such a pupil got together. The gentleman was a ventriloquist, or said he was, and he would cause little birds to sing up the chimney or under the piano, and sometimes a cat would meow or a dog bark in the far corner of the room. All this served to pass the hour devoted to the weekly lesson.

The last time I saw Bellars was some years after his departure from Woodside, on an occasion when he was gawking down Broadway with a carpet bag that must have long lain dormant in some neglected corner, a picture that would have done a Puck artist a world of good, with his lean figure and excruciatingly thin visage. What was his latter end I know not, but I verily believe that he dried up and blew away.

BOATING DAYS ON THE PASSAIC.

During the eighties and early nineties the Passaic river, where it skirted Woodside, was one of the most celebrated rowing courses in the country, and here assembled well-known oarsmen from far and near, including such men as Courtney, Hanlon, Oomes, Ten Eyck, Edward Phillips and George Lee.

So far as known, the Rev. Mr. Sherman, rector of Christ Church, Belleville, was the first to use a racing shell on the river. Closely following Mr. Sherman came Mr. James S. Taylor, whose earliest recollections are of the river and its ways. Mr. Taylor grew up on the water and was one of its first boatmen.

Probably the first boat club was the Woodside Rowing Club; but this was more of a social organization with rowing as a side issue. John Eastwood, a leading member, later joined the Tritons and became Commodore of the Passaic River Rowing Association. The Passaic Boat Club is considered the first. Its original house was situated about opposite Centre street, but it was not long before the Club moved to Woodside and established itself just below the Point House.

The Triton Boat Club, the third to be organized, soon out-distanced the others, and became the social as well as the boating centre of the Passaic. It was really born in 1868, in Phil. Bower’s boathouse, where certain oarsmen stored their boats, but was not officially organized until 1873, when the members met in the office of the Newark Lime & Cement Company. Twelve men attended this meeting, but only six names are given as organizers of the club: Frederick Townley, Henry C. Rommel, Truman Miller, Samuel A. Smith, Frederick Earl and Sidney Ogden. The other six seceded and organized the Eureka Boat Club.

About 1875 the club built its first house at the foot of the Gully road, and the following year the first regatta was held. The Passaic offered a beautiful course to oarsmen, but it did not come prominently before the country until the Eurekas rowed in the races held at Philadelphia during the Centennial. This called attention to the Passaic and resulted in the first National Regatta on its waters, 1878. A moonlight race between the Tritons and the Viking Boat Club of Elizabeth, which was pulled off in October, 1879, is remembered as one of the notable events.

Both Edward and Frank Phillips were prominent as oarsmen of the club, the former so much so that he, with Henry Rommel, was sent to the National Regatta held at Saratoga in 1881 or 1882. Henry Rommel, by the way, is probably the most “be-medaled” member of the club. George Small was another well-known Triton, as was George Lee who was brought out by the club and sent by it to England.

Those enthusiastic members who had no time for meals, recall Ed. Holt’s “Floating Palace” with its cargo of pie and soft drinks as a welcome haven of refuge, and they also indorse the statement that the place was entirely respectable.

It is still a matter of common remark by oarsmen of other localities that the Passaic was the finest river on which they ever rowed.

The Triton organization still exists in the hope that some day the river will be restored to its old-time purity and again be in condition for aquatic sports, but all it does at present is to eat a dinner once each year. It is rather a remarkable fact that the club has never lost an active member by death, except in one case of suicide.

Possibly the first racing boat other than a single shell owned by the Triton Club, was one fitted for three pairs of oars and a coxswain, which was originally purchased by a well-known group of gentlemen that resided on the banks of the Passaic. John Rutherfurd was one of these, and the boat was kept for a long time on the lawn in front of his dwelling.

One of the familiar figures of early days was Doctor Lauterborn, of Mulberry street who, after walking to the Passaic boathouse, thought nothing of rowing to the city of Passaic and back, finishing his afternoon by walking home.

CANOEING RECOLLECTIONS.

The history of the Ianthe Canoe Club, and of canoeing in general on the Passaic river, dates back to a certain mysterious green canvas canoe that, in 1880, appeared from no one knows where. Presumably it was constructed by some budding genius in the loft of his father’s barn, but all that we know definitely now is that its discovery was made by Will McDonald.

This green canoe was the inspiration which set others at work and during the winter of ’80-1 a second canvas canoe, painted black, was built in the cellar of 77 Lincoln avenue, by “Lin” Palmer, who, as he won the first canoe race ever paddled on the Passaic and launched the first white man’s canoe on our beautiful stream, so far as is known, is entitled to a central position in the limelight.

The black Palmer was launched with much circumstance in the following spring, and was at that time the only canoe on the river, as its green progenitor was not baptized until some time later, when Will McDonald purchased her.

In 1881 a group of six boys, consisting of Lincoln B. Palmer, Robert M. and Albert Phillips, Will McDonald, John Russell and one other, formed the Ianthe Canoe Club. John Russell was boy in a drug store at the corner of Belleville and Bloomfield avenues, and he brought to the meeting a soda water fountain catalogue, which contained many pretty names, and from this the name of the club was selected, the lady appearing therein as a particularly attractive water sprite. George P. Douglass, who became a factor in canoeing circles about 1887, was a later acquisition to the club.

The old Woodside Rowing Club’s building was standing idle. It belonged to the Messers. Hendricks, and a visit to these gentlemen resulted in an arrangement whereby the club was to have the building rent free, provided it kept the place in repair.

The club grew and prospered and in August, 1882, its members were invited by the Triton Boat Club to participate in the first canoe race ever held on the river. It seems that one Hussey, a member of the Triton Club owned a canoe and had a reputation as a paddler, and it was because there was no one else to play with that the boys were asked to enter the race. There was no thought but that Hussey would win; he had been in races before and was the star of the occasion. “Lin” Palmer beat him quite handily and there was gloom in the home of the Tritons. And thus ended the first canoe race, which was participated in by “Walt” and Will McDougall, as well as by “Lin” Palmer and —— Hussey.

During the following five years the club prospered greatly, but no events of importance are recorded. In 1887 John Pierson, of Bloomfield, and “Lin” Palmer, were sent as the first representatives from the Passaic river to an American Canoe Association meet, which this year was held on Lake Champlain. Neither of these representatives had ever been on such an expedition before, and their outfit was primitive in the extreme—so much so that they were shortly dubbed “the frying pan cruisers” by those who traveled with more elaborate and cumbersome outfits. But from now on the Ianthe moved up into the front rank of canoeists, as its members acquired the habit of capturing prizes, and held this position until the condition of the river drove all boating from its surface.

A LAST WORD IN REGARD TO MR. HINE.

We have about come to the end of this somewhat peculiar narrative, but before closing it I wish to say a final word in regard to Mr. Hine: I have interviewed very many who had to do with the early days of Woodside, without reference as to whether they were personal friends or not, and have heard but one opinion expressed, and universally expressed, in a manner too sincere to admit of any doubt. Each one recalls the man with a vividness and interest that time seemingly cannot dull, and each impression is but a repetition in one form or another of a great heart and a pure, clean minded man.

It is given to few to be remembered as is Mr. Hine, and though he has been dead more than twelve years (April 16, 1897), the memory of him and the impression he left are as distinct and clear as though his departure were but yesterday. The abundant tears which were shed over his bier came from hundreds who felt that they had lost a personal friend and helper.