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JAMESTOWN, NEW YORK
1908
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Journal Printing Company
Jamestown, - New York
E ^ARLT the present year, in anticipation of
/* j the celebration, on August 16, igo8, of
the one hundredth anniversary of the
birth of my father, Albert Gallatin Dow, I re-
quested him to write out some recollections of his
long and busy life for presentation in suitable
form to his guests at that time. He complied
with this suggestion a few weeks before his death,
and it seems appropriate that his story form the
introduction to what others said of him and that
it be presented to his friends on his anniversary
day.
—CHARLES M. DOW
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TO MY SON, CHARLES M. DOW
At your request I give you some reminiscences of my
life. Now that we are well within the year of my one hun-
dredth anniversary, I will confine myself particularly to
those incidents that I think have some bearing on my lon-
gevity, only deviating to add interest for the younger mem-
bers of our family. — A. G. D.
MY first recollection of anything, is of
the ferry-boat crossing the Connecti-
cut River when my father moved his
family from Plainfield, N. H., to Hart-
land, Vt. I was born August 16, 1808, and we
moved in May before I was three years old.
I recollect many things of our home in Hart-
land — the large meadow running down to the
Connecticut River; the house, a large white
colonial building ; the great room upstairs with
its fireplace, and my sisters spinning by the
light of pine knots while some one of the fam-
ily read; the Masonic Lodge meeting in that
room, where my father was the master. I re-
member of his going off to Indiana to look for
a new home, and of his return; that on that
trip he rode a very fine black mare of ours;
she would not let any boy on her back, but
my mother used to ride her. I remember my
father's saddle and saddlebags and my moth-
er's side-saddle; the large table around which
the ten children sat ; the brick bake oven ; and
that at Thanksgiving time when we children
got up we found pumpkin pies around on the
wood-piles and fences. One day some slaves
passed our house; I think there were seven
of them chained together with two white men
attending them. We thought they were runa-
way slaves being taken back to their masters.
I heard of the failure of Mr. Pulcifer, a mer-
chant of Plainfield, and that at the time of his
failure he owed my father $1,600.00, which
was an entire loss.
My brother Richard enlisted in the War of
181 2 and I remember my father going to the
army at Sackett's Harbor with a sleigh-load
of provisions, gotten together by the friends
of the boys who were serving from our neigh-
borhood, and that later one morning the mail
coach carried a flag and we knew the war was
over. Richard came home soon after that.
As I look back to that Vermont home, it
seems to me that we were a very thrifty,
healthy, happy family and its fireside recollec-
tions are very vivid in my memory.
In September, 181 6, when I was eight years
old, we left Hartland for our western home.
We had two horses, a yoke of oxen and two
cows. One horse was hitched before the yoke
of oxen drawing the wagon that carried our
effects. In a covered carriage drawn by one
horse were my mother and the children. The
[8]
morning we started, as we passed through the
village of Hartland, my teacher came out and
kissed me good by. I remember going through
the village of Windsor three or four miles
from our home, but recollect none of the other
towns through which we passed except Utica
and Rochester. On our way through Utica,
which was a small place, we heard music from
a house and we stopped to enjoy it. I also re-
member walking across the Cayuga Bridge
and that it was one mile and eight rods long.
My only recollection of Rochester was o£
some sawmills, a great many logs and piles of
lumber. During our journey we had all the
comforts that were possible at that time. We
stopped nights at hotels and I remember well
the bread and milk we had at our noon meal.
It was baker's bread and sometimes now when
I eat baker's bread with milk it tastes just as
that did. We had thirty days of travel, no
sickness and all stood the journey well.
When we got to Genesee County, New
York, where father had friends and among
them some old Vermont families who had
settled there just before, we concluded to stop
for the winter and then go on the next spring
to Indiana. My father leased a log house
south of the Buffalo Road and made some
board additions to it. It was comfortable
enough, but as I think of it, life there was a
stern reality. The country at that time was
[9]
all woods with but few clearings except on
the main road. Small game was in abundance
and some deer were killed.
The next spring, instead of going to Indi-
ana, father bought a cleared farm on the Buf-
falo Road nine miles and a half from Batavia.
He built a log house on a slightly elevated
plateau overlooking a broad stretch of fine
country to the west. The house was large,
had a brick chimney, which was an exception,
the logs were hewn inside, and the house was
better than any other around there. As soon
as he had his house finished, he went about a
project to build a schoolhouse and it was com-
pleted without delay. I remember among the
children in that school Mr. Mason's little
daughters, Nancy and Lydia Ann. Nancy's
toes touched the floor when she sat on the
benches but Lydia Ann's did not. A Sunday
School was a new institution and one was op-
ened in a private house near our home. We
recited verses selected by our parents, had
some singing and the teacher, Mr. Stewart,
talked to us.
About that time we heard that a circus was
to pass through at night and we children built
a line of fires along the road and scattered po-
tatoes for the elephant, so he would stop and
eat them and we get a good look at him.
I went to Batavia for my first Fourth of
July celebration. They had an address, and
[10]
martial music was made by some of the Revo-
lutionary soldiers while others of the veterans
were seated on the platform.
The old Buffalo Road was the main New
York State thoroughfare between the east and
the west. Two stages passed every day and
there was a constant stream of emigrants on
their way to the Holland Purchase and West-
ern Reserve which were then being rapidly
filled up, and eastern people and foreigners in
their private carriages passed on their way to
and from Niagara Falls, then as great a won-
der as now, so we saw much of the activities
of life.
Father had a large family to provide for;
was also active in the building of roads and
bridges and all those things that go to help
establish social order. Axes were swinging
on all sides and the country was being rapidly
settled, the forests giving way to farms. On
our farm we produced almost everything that
necessity or rude comfort would demand.
.Our cellar from which we lived in winter was
well filled. We raised flax and my sisters
made our shirts and handkerchiefs, and made
"homespun" for the boys of the family. We
kept a hired man, a Vermonter, to whom we
paid $8.00 a month and board.
Our first summer there was very cold, but
I think we never felt any anxiety for the or-
dinary necessities. My father had some ready
[«3
money and I recall that he loaned $100.00 to
one of the Vermont families who were near
neighbors. I was the one to go to mill. We
went to Pembroke although it was farther
away than the mill toward Batavia. We went
there as our old friends had settled in that
direction.
Soon after we settled in Genesee County, a
man who was a cooper came along on horse-
back. He had no money to continue his jour-
ney and wanted to stay and go to work at his
trade. Father bought a set of cooper's tools,
fixed up a place for him and he went to coop-
ering, and after that father conducted a coop-
er business until about the time of his death,
making pork barrels, firkins, sap-buckets, etc.
From the time we came West until our fam-
ily broke up, I attended school near home and
helped about the farm as boys generally do.
My sisters and brothers were Sarah, Mary,
Richard, Eliza, Caroline, Nancy, Hannah,
Amos and Phoebe. I was next younger than
Hannah.
Genesee County at that time was an un-
healthy section. My father had the ague and
died in 1822 at fifty-six years of age. As I
recollect him, he was a tall and large man, I
should think weighing upwards of one hun-
dred eighty pounds; was austere in manner,
a man of strong common sense, and a leader
among men in a way ; not in politics, however ;
[12]
was high in Masonry and was, I think, a mem-
ber of Batavia Lodge. He was not a church
member but was a Universalist in belief, prized
education and virtue, and was a great lover of
books. He governed his household well, was
a true friend, and honest in all of his transac-
tions. As I think of him, it seems as though
he was serious minded, particularly after we
. came west ; the problems of life confronting a
man with a large family in a new country
would naturally make him so.
My mother was rather small of stature. I
remember her light blue eyes, light complex-
ion, her expression of goodness, and her in-
terest in everything that tended toward our
happiness and prosperity. There was an air
of refinement about our home. My sisters
were all women of culture, had prepared them-
selves for teaching and all at one time or an-
other taught school. In the winter we had
spelling schools and straw rides from one dis-
trict to another and good times all together.
Our family stayed together on the farm until
mother married the Rev. Mr. Gross some-
thing over a year after father's death. That
winter I went to school at Attica, and Amos,
who was three years younger than I, went with
my sister Mary. My mother went to Clarence
to Mr. Gross's home where she died in the
autumn of 1826 when fifty-four years of age.
Mr. Gross was a Universalist preacher and an
[13]
excellent man. He was then the editor of a
religious paper in Buffalo, also conducted a
school for lads at his home and prepared
young men for college.
The summer I was sixteen I earned the first
money for myself, working for Mr. Hunting-
ton on his farm. My first work was chopping
a great pile of wood and it was pretty hard
business. The Huntingtons were newly mar-
ried people and Mrs. Huntington flattered me
somewhat by commending me for not send-
ing my plate back for more food. It worked
out as a matter of economy for the Hunting-
tons and left me sometimes pretty hungry,
but I was probably just as well off for it after-
ward. I worked there six months at $6.00 a
month; used $18.00 of my wages and at the
end of the time took his note for the remain-
ing $18.00.
The day before commencing work I made
my first trip to Buffalo. It was then a small
city and there were no buildings except shan-
ties below the present Mansion House. I
went down to see the old "Superior," the great
lake steamboat of that time.
After finishing with Mr. Huntington I went
to work for Mr. Carpenter and earned enough
in the fall to get my clothes, still keeping the
$18.00 note. During the time I was at Mr.
Carpenter's he bought the first stove that I
had ever seen. It was a curiosity and a great
[14]
many people came to his house to see it. That
winter I went to school at Clarence and the
following summer I worked for Mr. Thomas
on his farm at $8.00 a month.
The first event attracting public attention
that I attended was the hanging of the three
Thayers. I went to Buffalo that day in June,
1825. There were a great many there, thous-
ands of people from all through the country,
many passing through Clarence several days
before. The hanging took place in the large
field opposite the Courthouse.
The next event that took me to Buffalo was
the starting of the first boat on the Erie Canal.
I got my colt up the night before and on the
25th of October, 1825, by the time the sun
was up, I was over half way to Buffalo which
was twelve or thirteen miles from Clarence.
I hitched the colt in a shed somewhere near
the present Genesee House and ran my best
down to where the crowd was gathering
around the boat. As it started, the first of the
signal cannons was fired. There were several
superintending the starting and at almost the
first move the bowsprit struck a bridge abut-
ment and flew in pieces. However there was
little damage or delay. I think there were not
over two or three hundred people there to see
that great event.
My ambition was to become a merchant and
I had secured a position in a store at Ran-
[15]
som's Grove but wanted to take further school-
ing before commencing, so I studied three
months with Mr. Gross and after finishing
went to take the position but found that the
store had been closed by the sheriff the same
day.
My sister Sarah had married Wheaton Mas-
on of Batavia, and as there was no chance for
me at Ransom's Grove, I continued on to
Batavia hoping to find a position in a store
there. A gentleman going through on horse-
back suggested that I ride his horse and save
my stage fare and he would take the stage. I
saved my fare but had a very cold night's ride.
I found Mr. Mason with a great many
things on hand and quite a number of people
about him. He had a shoeshop employing
five or six hands, a brick yard, some farming
and a grocery, aside from loaning money.
They had a great many fires to build and I
commenced by making myself useful. During
the year and a little over that I was with them
I worked some about the grocery, put in and
harvested potatoes three miles away, and
learned enough of the shoe trade so that I
was able to start for myself the following year.
During that summer it became general talk
that a Mr. Morgan, living there, and whom I
often saw, had written and proposed to pub-
lish an exposure of Free Masonry. In the
autumn of that year, 1826, he disappeared.
[16]
Aside from the great interest all through that
section, I was particularly interested in the
subject as Morgan's disappearance created in-
tense feeling against all members of the Ba-
tavia Lodge of which my father had been and
my employer was then a member. This agi-
tation resulted in the organization of a new
political party, the Anti-Masonic. Since that
time I have been an interested participant in
the political movements of the day.
On February 2, 1827, Mr. Mason and I
started for Panama, N. Y., to make our home
there. As we passed through Silver Creek,
I was particularly impressed with the beauty
of its location, its business prospects, with a
fine harbor on Lake Erie, and with the people
we met. At Panama Mr. Mason bought a
hotel at the top of the hill above the village.
A short time after locating there, he sent me
back to Batavia on business. Stopping at Sil-
ver Creek I made up my mind to make it my
home and soon moved there; commenced a
shoe and leather jobbing business which I
conducted for thirteen years and until I formed
a partnership with George Farnham, having
bought a half interest in his hardware store.
When I was twenty years old I went to
Westfield and worked in the Aaron Rumsey
tannery to learn what I could, intending to
start in that business for myself the following
year. There were several young men working
[17]
in the tannery and we had the usual time that
young fellows do. I recall that we attended
the revival meetings held in the schoolhouse
for the fun of seeing the girls have the
"power." The practice of the converts and the
people in the meeting was not unlike that I
have recently seen among the southern ne-
groes. Sunday afternoon we boys in the tan-
nery used to play cards out under the trees by
the creek. Through the influence of Mrs.
Rumsey I became interested in the Sunday
School and used to attend with her, where she
was one of the teachers. This was my first
real interest in the Sunday School, and when I
became a member of the church several years
later I became a Sunday School teacher and
have been either a Bible class teacher or a
superintendent nearly all the time since.
October 4, 1829, I married Freelove, the
daughter of Wheaton Mason and Octavia
Belden, when I was twenty-one years old. Mr.
Mason, who had married my sister Sarah, was
then keeping the hotel in Silver Creek where
I boarded. The Mason family and our family
had been intimate from the time we came to
Genesee County, Mr. Mason keeping "The
Brick Tavern," the most important house in
that country. He was a man of genial tem-
perament, maintained himself and his family
in a generous way and was in excellent credit
and commercial standing during his entire life.
[18]
He died in 1850 and was buried in Ellicott-
ville. As soon as I was married, we com-
menced keeping house in my own house which
was paid for and I have maintained my own
home ever since. With this first home there
were twenty-five acres of land and since that
time I have never been without land of my
own within easy access of my home.
During most of the years that I was in Sil-
ver Creek, before going into the hardware
and stove business, I held town offices; was
Collector, Constable or Justice of the Peace,
and was more or less interested in politics.
Those were Anti-Masonic times and I was a
Democrat. While I was acting as Collector,
Constable and Justice I had many practical
lessons as to those things which make for
success or failure and give credit or discredit
in business. I also had the evil of intemper-
ance impressed upon me through the misfor-
tune of a dear friend, and I have remembered
those lessons.
. During my time as Constable, a large
amount of the work was collecting debts and
many debtors were taken to the county seat
at Mayville up to 183 1 when the imprisonment
for debt was abolished. Debtors were not
confined in the jail, but were on "the limits"
and boarding houses were maintained for their
accommodation. They could give bail and if
they were found off the limits during week
[19]
days the bondsmen were obliged to pay the
debt for which they were imprisoned. Sun-
days they could go home or wherever they
chose.
Later when I was Justice of the Peace,
Judge Ward had an office with me. He was
an excellent judge of the common law and
during that time I took a great interest in law
study. The Judge wanted to admit me to the
bar, but I felt that if I were admitted, I would
do more or less pettifogging which would in-
terfere with my business as a merchant.
Soon after I went to Silver Creek a minia-
ture railroad train was exhibited in the hotel
ballroom and created much interest. The first
talk regarding the practical operation of rail-
roads was that the railroads were to be pub-
lic highways used by individuals who would
operate their own vehicles under the same
plan as canal boats were operated, pay tolls
and be under state regulation, but that did
not materialize. Private corporations built
the roads, but their rates were fixed so as not
to compete to the disadvantage of the canals.
My first railroad trip was taken in 1840 and
to make better time I took the stage to Bush-
nell's Basin; from there a canal boat to Syra-
cuse where I took the train. The track was
of strap-iron laid on timbers. The train was
off the track two or three times before we got
to Albany and the passengers assisted in put-
[20]
ting it on. We were helped up and down the
hill west of Albany by a stationary engine to
which our train was attached by a rope. The
station in Albany where we stopped was near
the capitol on the left hand side of State Street
looking down. From Albany we took a boat
down the river to New York City.
That year, 1840, I became a partner of Mr.
Farnham in the hardware business and suc-
ceeded to the business a year later. During
the next few years I had established a dry
goods store in Randolph, had a store one year
in Sinclairville and had filled that country up
with stoves, and in 1845 I moved my family
to Randolph and established a hardware store
there. I moved my dry goods store to East
Randolph in 1848 and soon after sold it to my
brother Amos who conducted it for many
years.
The Erie Railroad had been abandoned in
1842, business was stagnant in Randolph and
the principal merchants had been obliged to
suspend, but they had a large and good tribu-
tary country. From the time we started the
business in Silver Creek we sent peddling wag-
ons through Cattaraugus and Chautauqua
Counties, selling our tinware and stoves at
wholesale or retail and often placing them on
commission. I continued that business in
Randolph, extending the territory farther and
into Pennsylvania. Our teams often brought
[21]
home large amounts of furs and bales of buf-
falo skins, they having been carried on the
backs of raftsmen returning from the Ohio
River country. My business there was good
from the start. I sold a large amount of goods
and both bought and sold on long credit. Soon
after moving to Randolph, I established a
store in Ellicottville and started a nephew in
one at Bradford, Pa.
My wife died at Randolph August 21, 1847.
Our children were James, Warren, Sarah,
Mary and Albert.
On April 25, 1850, I married Lydia Ann
Mason at Schenectady, N. Y. She was the
daughter of Wheaton and Octavia Belden
Mason and was born June 9, 1814, at Pem-
broke, N. Y. Our only child was Charles
Mason. My wife died at Randolph June 11,
1 891.
In 1863, I discontinued merchandising, hav-
ing established a banking business in Ran-
dolph three years before. I was active in the
banking business until 1891. As in my mer-
chandising, my field of operation was not con-
fined to Randolph where the demand for
money was limited. My discounts and paper
covered quite a large territory. Lumber was
being manufactured both above and below on
the Allegheny River with the result that my
banking operations extended from the head-
waters and the upper tributaries of the Alle-
gheny to Pittsburg and below.
[22]
Since 1891 I have held interests in several
other banking institutions in western New
York and have in a way kept in touch with
that business. I have kept my Randolph office
open daily when at home, have given my per-
sonal attention to my affairs and have retained
control of my investments. Since coming to
Randolph I have varied my activities some-
what, serving in several official positions local-
ly and in the state assembly and senate, and
have always been actively interested in politi-
cal, educational and religious affairs.
A few years ago I went back to my old home
in Vermont and my birthplace in New Hamp-
shire. I found the Hartland house well pre-
served and it has evidently been a prosperous
and well kept place. The house is on the slope
above the bottomlands and looks over the
Connecticut Valley. This, the Cornish Ar-
tists' Colony section, is where the first eight
years of my life were spent. I cannot but feel
that the beauty of my surroundings during
those years has had a marked influence on my
life.
The scenery of all that country is pictur-
esque rather than grand, but old Ascutney
Mountain that my parents used to talk so
much about when we were in our new home
in Genesee County looked to me just as it did
when a child. Along the road near the house
is a row of handsome shade trees. The mead-
[23]
ow is not as large and the river not as wide
as my memory had pictured. It is a section
untouched by commerce and manufacturing.
The farms on that road all look well cared for,
the buildings are large and general thrift pre-
vails. We crossed the ferry over to Plainfield,
a little village now as then called "The Plain."
The house where I was born is still standing
and is said to be the oldest house in the vil-
lage. It is a one and a half-story building
with a veranda and pillars in front. The vil-
lage now has a deserted appearance. The
main street is broad and is lined with old elms,
so much a part of New England beauty. At
both places I found people who knew the
young people of our family when we lived
there. One very old lady told us that it is one
of the traditions of her family that the first
time she was taken to church when a baby,
Captain Dow carried her in his arms from the
carriage to the pew. Another remembered of
my brother Richard going to the War of 1812
and coming back afterward. We drove back
to Windsor through Cornish.
I afterwards spent an afternoon at Bow,
N. H. I knew very little of Bow except my
recollection of my father's and mother's talk
of their early home. Mother once told us of
the first time she saw father ; that he came on
horseback and hitched his horse on the green
before their house, and that he was then a
[24]
tall lad. I went to her father's farm, saw the
old house where she passed her childhood, the
green, the old meeting house, the center of
their social life, where my grandfather, James
Buzzell, was a deacon, and all that section
that was familiar to father and mother when
they were young. Where they lived is a high
plateau and extremely rocky and is about two
miles back from the Merrimac River.
A matter of no small interest to me was
what I learned of the part my grandfather
took in the public affairs of his time; of his
Revolutionary service, of his being Selectman
of his town and Captain of the local militia.
I could clearly see the early surroundings
of my father and mother, which added to the
traits transmitted to them by their ancestors,
gave them their sturdy character which I hope
may carry through generations.
As to my personal habits and practices: In
my early business life I ate and worked quite
irregularly as I was pushing my business in
every direction possible. Since soon after dis-
continuing merchandising and for something
over forty years I have been regular in my
meals and have not eaten rapidly. Early, my
stomach would reject both liquid and solid
food if taken too hastily. The habit I formed
of deliberation in eating naturally led to mod-
eration with little craving for rich sauces. My
sense of taste is now and has been delicate and
[25]
definite. I have always humored it and eaten
anything that I desired.
I never cultivated the desire for liquor and
have been an abstainer from alcoholic drinks.
I at one time enjoyed cigars but have not used
tobacco during the last seventy-five years.
It has been my custom to rise early and take
a sponge bath, sometimes in cold and at others
in tepid water, but never in a cold room. After
my bath I have read from books and studied
until the family breakfast was served. I have
learned much from reading and I think the
desire to learn is as strong with me now as
ever. After breakfast all members of the fam-
ily united in the morning devotion before tak-
ing up the business of the day. I have never
spared myself on account of inclement weather
if business demanded. Except for some busi-
ness or social engagement, I have retired early
and have slept well.
I have had little use for medicine or medical
attendance and do not recall that I ever used
physic except possibly during the cholera times
in 1832 when I was under the care of a phy-
sician and do not know what medicines were
given me.
I am five feet, four inches tall. My weight
has varied from 130 to 140 pounds and is now
about 135 pounds and I am without a pimple,
blemish or scar of any kind which, considering
all my long continued activities, is quite re-
markable.
[26]
I do not recall that I have ever taken any
systematic exercise for the sake of exercise
except possibly this winter and spring I have
walked a little with that end in view, but I
have never taken any of the exercises pre-
scribed by the gymnasiums. In my early busi-
ness life I did a great deal of horseback riding,
being in the saddle as often as possible, and
while the saddling was all done in the transac-
tion of business, I found great pleasure and
exhileration in it In later life, however, driv-
ing has taken the place of saddling.
I have enjoyed my home, my neighbors and
my surroundings and have always been in
touch with the spirit of the country. There
has seemed in and about Randolph something
of the serenity that in my mind has always
been associated with my New England home.
[27]
DEATH OF A CENTENARIAN
From Jamestown Evening Journal,
May 25, 1906
FORMER State Senator Albert G. Dow
died at the family home at Randolph
shortly before 10 o'clock Saturday
evening, and the tolling of the village
church bell, which has called the people of that
community to worship for the past half cen-
tury, gave information to the neighbors and
nearby friends that the end had come in the
life of this remarkable man. As the clear
notes of the bell continued until ninety-nine
strokes had been heard it left no doubt in
whose memory it spoke.
The end was symbolical of his entire life,
calm and peaceful. It was hoped on Tuesday
and Wednesday that the remarkable vigor
which Mr. Dow displayed, considering his
age, would be such as to carry him through
this attack of sickness, but Wednesday even-
ing he began sinking again and quickly passed
into a quiet slumber from which he did not
waken.
In many respects Mr. Dow was one of the
most remarkable men of the present day. In-
telligent and earnest in all that he did he took
[28]
a commanding position among those with
whom his life was cast from early manhood
and was a leader in all of the things that count
toward the development of the community or
the advancement of the best interests of the
people with whom he was associated.
In business he was quiet and conservative,
gaining a competence in his younger days he
continued to engage in the activities of busi-
ness life until he reached a very advanced age,
and even up to the time of his last sickness,
which began only a few days ago, he attended
to his own business affairs in a capable and
painstaking way, although he was nearly one
hundred years of age. His one hundredth
birthday would have been celebrated on the
1 6th of August this year, had he lived until
that time.
He had always taken a deep Interest in the
Chautauqua movement and was a welcome
guest at Chautauqua ever since that institu-
tion began holding its summer assemblies.
Plans were being made by the Chautauqua
management to have celebrated Mr. Dow's
one hundredth birthday with a dinner in his
honor.
Not alone on account of his great age, but
because of the remarkable vigor of both mind
and body which he displayed, he was among
the noted centenarians of the world, and his
birthday was to have been made the occasion
of signal honors by other societies.
[29]
To say that he will be greatly missed by
the people of Randolph where he has so long
resided, and in almost equal manner by the
people of Jamestown where he has been a
frequent visitor, and in fact, throughout west-
ern New York, is to modestly speak the truth.
It is doubtful if anyone in western New York
has met more men or made more friends than
Albert G. Dow. Actively interested in the
church, in business, in social affairs and in
politics he came in contact with all classes of
people and among all he was regarded as a
friend and advisor.
HIS LAST ACTIVE DAY
Mr. Dow was as active as usual last Mon-
day, and that day was typical of those which
he passed during the latter years of his life.
He left his bed that morning at half-past five
o'clock and read until breakfast time. After
breakfast he gave the gardener instructions as
to the work of the day, discussed with him the
planting of certain seeds and the necessity of
securing some seed which they did not have
at hand. After that he went to his office and
spent a couple of hours in the transaction of
business matters that claimed his attention.
He then went to the store and purchased the
seeds required for his garden, took them home
with him, had his favorite driving horse har-
nessed, got into the carriage and taking the
[30]
reins he drove to his farm to see the work that
the hay pressers were doing. While there he
observed the work that a fifteen-year old boy
was performing which he thought was too
heavy for one of his age. He remonstrated
with the lad about the heavy work.
"The boy should save his strength," said he.
"He'll need it more when he grows older."
From his own farm he drove to the farm of
his son, Charles M. Dow, in which he had
always taken a great interest, and also called
on one or two friends. He then returned to
his home for the mid-day luncheon, and later
in the day he again went to his office, spending
another two hours there in the afternoon. On
returning home toward evening he stopped to
call on his daughter, Mrs. Johnson, talking
with her for some time regarding family mat-
ters.
On leaving Mrs. Johnson's home he called
on a neighbor where he spent a few minutes
in social chat, going thence to his home
where he received a call from another neighbor
who was entertained in a cordial way, light
refreshments being served to the caller and to
the host.
As usual he took dinner at home alone at
6 o'clock. His housekeeper came into the din-
ing room as he finished his meal, sat down
and talked over incidents of former days, in
which he answered many questions that she
asked.
[31]
In the evening after dinner Mrs. Johnson
called at the house, visited with him for some
time, read the daily papers to him and on her
departure he retired at 9 130, his usual bedtime.
Tuesday morning he arose and dressed him-
self, and then calling his housekeeper, he
asked her to send for the physician and for
his daughter, Mrs. Johnson. He said he did
not feel just well, that he found difficulty in
breathing, something that had never troubled
him before.
After the doctor came he explained the
symptoms and soon after sank into a state
of collapse from wnich he only temporarily
rallied until the end. Death came very easily ;
it was what physicians term a physiological
death, which rarely occurs; there was ab-
solutely no disease, but a giving away of all
of the organs of the body. The machinery of
life had simply run down, and while the heart's
action remained strong and the breathing nat-
ural and regular it all had to finally cease,
although the physical conditions were so per-
fect that he lived hour after hour and the
hours reached into days after the attending
physicians said that death was due at any
moment.
Mr. Dow's strong personality, sound judg-
ment, purity of character, honesty of purpose
and conscientiousness in the discharge of
duty, has won the respect and admiration of a
[32]
large circle of acquaintances and the friend-
ship of all classes in the community in which
he lives.
Mr. Dow leaves three sons and one daugh-
ter: Warren Dow, Mrs. James G. Johnson
and Albert G. Dow, Jr., of Randolph and
Charles M. Dow of Jamestown. He also
leaves six grandchildren: Mrs. George E.
Allen of Passaic, N. J. ; Mrs. Alan Falconer of
Chloride, Ariz.; Supervisor Marc D. Johnson
of the Randolph Register; Mrs. Carl Tomp-
kins of Randolph ; Mrs. Fletcher Goodwill and
Howard Dow of Jamestown.
[33]
ALBERT GALLATIN DOW
Editorial
From Jamestown Morning Post
May 25, 1908
WHEN the bells of Randolph tolled
for the death of its most distin-
guished citizen late on Saturday
evening, notice was given to a
much wider circle that the remarkable career
of Albert G. Dow had ended as he stood al-
most on the threshold of a second century.
The life of the venerable man had been ebbing
away slowly for days, like the low tide, beat-
ing fainter and fainter upon the sands until at
last no ripple breaks upon the surface of the
sea. So the great calm came upon him and
he slept.
It is given to few men to reach the great
age attained by Mr. Dow, and to fewer yet to
approach their hundredth birthday with facul-
ties unimpaired and the memory of past events
so marvelously retained. Professor Horace
Fletcher, who visited Mr. Dow recently, pro-
nounced his case to be unique in the annals
of longevity, presenting a marked contrast to
the sad pictures of infirmity usually presented
by centenarians. Mr. Dow was old in years
only, but young at heart. He took the same
[34]
active interest in public affairs that had always
characterized him. His eye was bright, his
taste keen, his mental vision clear. Within
the past few weeks he had written at the re-
quest of his family his personal reminiscences,
which give graphic pictures of his boyhood
home in Vermont and later at Batavia in this
state. These recollections abound in interest-
ing incidents of the pioneer life of that early
day. The personality of the man speaks
through them. His interest in political move-
ments, in the church, in business affairs, his
pen pictures of old friends and relatives, with
here and there a touch of humor, or a fine
phrase descriptive of some beautiful spot hal-
lowed to him by early association, all combine
to make this autobiography a work of rare
interest that should be preserved in some per-
manent form.
It is difficult to realize what it is to have
lived so long and so well. Here was a man
among us, walking and talking a week ago
with his friends and neighbors, who was born
the year before Abraham Lincoln's eyes op-
ened in the Kentucky log-house, or William
Ewart Gladstone saw the light of England's
sun, or Charles Darwin gave his first feeble
cry of babyhood. These men had done their
great work and passed on, two of them dying
in old age, yet this rugged New England oak
had not fallen before the blasts of a hundred
[35]
winters. Had he lived until August 16th he
would have rounded the full limit of a cen-
tury. His own county of Cattaraugus is plan-
ning its centennial for that very month, at
which he would have been a conspicuous fig-
ure. The Chautauqua management, whose
guest he was at the luncheon to Governor
Hughes last August, had tendered him a re-
ception in honor of his birthday. What a tale
of national expansion he could have told, who
remembered the War of 1812, and all our
later wars which have planted the Stars and
Stripes from Mexico to Manila!
The essential facts of the active and useful
life of Albert G. Dow are told elsewhere in
this paper. It is a record of industry and per-
severence, of business development by which
the boy who worked with his hands at the
bench became merchant, banker and capitalist.
Honored by repeated elections to the Board
of Supervisors, and to the Assembly and Sen-
ate of the state, he proved his fitness for pub-
lic service. But his tastes did not lead him
toward the political arena. He was content
to live quietly in his home village, among his
neighbors and kinsmen. He loved Randolph
and was the friend of its educational institu-
tions and of its public movements. He lived
the blameless life of his New England ances-
tors without being austere. The kindly na-
ture of the man had softened the rough places
[36]
in their philosophy. He was tempered by
time and broadened by his reading and his
observation of human life.
Always interested in the First Congrega-
tional Church of Randolph, of which he was
a pillar of strength, he gave his last day of
conscious life to plans for the improvement
of its edifice. It was a fitting end to a life that
was filled with work for humanity and for the
world. He was a friend of freedom and of the
Union in the days when it was assailed. His
time, his talent and his purse were never with-
held from any good cause. In extreme old
age, but without the weakness that goes with
it, he has fallen asleep. His work is all done,
and well done. If he has fallen a little short
of the coveted goal in his long race, he has
surely left nothing unfinished, little to regret.
Happy is he who heareth
The signal of his release,
In the bells of the Holy City,
The Chimes of eternal peace.
[37]
ALBERT GALLATIN DOW
Editorial
From Jamestown Evening Journal
May 25, 1908
"Mark the perfect man, and behold the
upright, for the end of that man is
peace." — The Psalms.
THE death of Senator Albert G. Dow at
the family home at Randolph shortly
before 10 o'clock Saturday night re-
moves one of the most remarkable
men of this age. Mentally and physically Mr.
Dow was one of the most perfectly balanced
men of whom history gives record ; no part of
the brain or body had been developed at the
expense of any other part; without being a
genius or even a specialist he had the ability
to quickly and firmly grasp any problem or
subject in which he took an interest ; a man of
medium size his body was splendidly devel-
oped, every organ performing its required duty
in an easy and normal way.
His mental poise was so perfect that no un-
due effort was required to meet the new and
strenuous conditions that constantly present-
ed themselves during the seventy-five years of
[38]
his active business career — a period that pre-
sented more new and unsolved business prob-
lems than any other equal period of time in the
history of the world. His bodily vigor was
such that he was enabled to perform the long
hours of labor that at times were required in
the development of his vast and varied inter-
ests, so that no perceptible physical strain was
made upon his admirable constitution.
It was this perfect balance of mind and body
which counted so much, not only toward the
long life of Mr. Dow, but toward that which
gave true pleasure to himself and friends dur-
ing his one hundred years. He had no physi-
cal ills to contend with during all of these
years, and he had no mental infirmities to try
the souls of those with whom he came into
contact during the declining days of his life.
The decline from the prime of manhood to the
end of life was as gradual and perfect in its
way as the development from early childhood
to the full strength of manhood.
. Born of rugged New England stock, thrown
upon his own resources in early life, he was
compelled to trust himself in all things at an
age when most boys have the advantage of
home surroundings, home instruction and the
counsel and advice which are so needful in the
proper development of most young men. He
was never afraid of hard work, but was always
ready to do with his full energy that which
[39]
his hands found to do. In young manhood
he learned the trade of a shoemaker, and
while he never followed this in after life it was
one of the things that counted for his success.
It enabled him to know a good boot when he
saw one and to know its value, and this gave
him success in his first business venture, that
of a boot and shoe merchant in the village of
Silver Creek in Chautauqua County.
From this it was most natural that his busi-
ness should grow rapidly; his easy grasp of
the true principles of business, his manly cour-
tesy toward all, his wonderful faculty of mak-
ing friends and retaining them, all conspired
to give him a place in the community second
to none. Branching out from Silver Creek he
established stores in Sinclairville, Ellicottville
and Randolph, to all of which he gave his per-
sonal attention and with continued success.
Still later he became engaged in banking en-
terprises, first establishing a private bank at
Randolph nearly fifty years ago ; later the Sal-
amanca National Bank, and becoming a prom-
inent stockholder and director in what is now
the National Chautauqua County Bank of
Jamestown. In the first two of these institu-
tions his management was for many years the
controlling influence in their success, and his
advice was considered of special value in mat-
ters of moment in the affairs of the Jamestown
banking institution until the very last.
[40]
In the passing of Senator Dow western New
York loses one who loved its rugged hills and
quiet valleys; one who passed from youth to
old age among them; one who gained friends
and made life happier for those he passed in
his journey. He felt the responsibilities which
he owed to himself and to the age in which he
lived, and he never flinched in meeting them
face to face. With him it might truly be said :
Age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars invisible by day.
[41]
ALBERT GALLATIN DOW
Editorial
From Buffalo Evening News
Monday, May 25, 1908
IN the death of Albert Gallatin Dow, West-
ern New York has lost its oldest and most
representative citizen, a man with the live,
active experience of one hundred years,
for had he lived until the 16th of August of
this year he would have celebrated the hun-
dredth anniversary of his birth.
The most remarkable thing in connection
with Mr. Dow was not that he had attained
to such a great age, but that he had maintained
the enthusiasm, the vitality, mental activity
and the gladness of living, up to the very
threshold of death. Nothing of feebleness,
decrepitude, almost nothing of venerableness,
touched his life. He was alert, active, up-to-
date, a man of his time, a participant in all the
interests and affairs of life, to the last im-
maculate in dress, keen and polished in man-
ner, a gentleman of the old school, the new
school, any school where genuine kindness of
heart and broad sympathy unite with an ob-
servance of the forms of a somewhat formal
etiquette.
Life realized for him the fulfillment of all
[42]
that a reasonable man could lay claim to — a
successful business career, political distinc-
tion, and unusual domestic happiness. He
was a deeply religious man, believing in the
efficiency of prayer and evolving for himself
a philosophy by which he controlled his life
and created an environment of harmony. His
name has been eminent in the banking world
of his day and he has performed many public
services, among them representing his district
successfully in the Senate.
What Mr. Dow himself witnessed, however,
was the marvelous part of his existence as a
contemporary of the progress, the achieve-
ments and the developments of one hundred
years. He saw transportation completely
revolutionized by steam and steel and electric-
ity— the steam car take the place of the stage
coach, the horse give way to the trolley and
the automobile. The telegraph, the telephone,
the motor power are all inventions of his day,
in addition to hundreds of other devices by
which hand labor has been replaced by ma-
chinery.
Mr. Dow lived through every expansion of
our country and witnessed every territorial
purchase but one. All of the abuses of slav-
ery, the legislation for and against it, and the
emancipation of the negro were events in his
day. Buffalo has grown from a hamlet to a
metropolis since he was a schoolboy. He had
[43]
entered upon middle age when the gold fever
of '49 swept the country and without doubt
outlived almost every man and woman who
made that weary pilgrimage across the plains
to California. He has witnessed the complete
development of the oil industry from its in-
fancy to its present gigantic power. He has
lived through the War of 1812, the Mexican
War, the Civil War and the War with Spain.
He has been a part of the educational and phil-
anthropical movements of the whole century.
He has lived with and outlived every Presi-
dent of the United States, from Washington's
time down to today, with the exception of
Cleveland and Roosevelt. Thomas Jefferson,
Madison, John Quincy Adams, Monroe, Jack-
son, VanBuren, Harrison, Tyler, Polk, Taylor,
Fillmore, Pierce, Buchanan, Lincoln, Andrew
Johnson, Grant, Hayes, Garfield, Arthur,
Cleveland, Harrison, Cleveland and McKin-
ley have all come and gone in a mighty force-
ful pageant during his life and Roosevelt, our
last President, has almost finished his second
term under his keen, critical and approving
eye.
A noble, wonderful life has gone out and
the most wonderful feature and beautiful thing
about it is, that from beginning to end, love
of his fellow men was its dominating force and
duty and consideration of others its ruling
passion.
[44]
ALBERT GALLATIN DOW
Editorial
From The Randolph Register
May 29, 1908
EASILY the most prominent figure in
this community passed from the stage
of life when, just at the close of a week
that had been full of anxiety for watch-
ers, Hon. Albert Gallatin Dow sank softly to
rest in that dreamless slumber which we call
death. Full of years and rich in the love and
reverence of a circle of admiring friends that
extended far beyond the limits of county or
state, he fell asleep ; and Death seemingly loth
to advance boldly to the attack, stole upon him
so silently that "listening love could catch the
rustle of a wing" as his spirit passed forward
in its development.
Few men in the known history of the world
have been so favored as Mr. Dow. To have
lived a hundred years in the full possession of
bodily strength and mental vigor; to have
reached that summit from which one can re-
view with broadened understanding the events
of a century past and peer forward with pro-
phetic vision into a century opening; to have
mingled in the tide of current events during
ten decades of the most progressive and event-
[45]
ful era in the history of mankind, and to have
been able to interpret the tendencies of a
world's development in the calm evening of
an active and well spent life, is something to
attract the wonder and admiration of the
thinking world. But greater than all these
was the triumph Mr. Dow achieved in early
learning the great lesson of how so to live to
get the most from life. Unerring instinct
taught him that service is the key note of suc-
cess and the broad highway to the truest hap-
piness. He entered heartily into all the activi-
ties of life, regarding labor as a pleasant duty
rather than drudgery and as the means by
which the highest bodily and mental exalta-
tion is to be attained. Taught in the great
school of experience, his quick perception
grasped the truth that anger and worry are
the great foes of efficiency and that the simple
life, so called, is the truest luxury. By en-
couraging a natural and kindly interest in his
fellowmen he defeated personal worry and an-
ger seldom found lodgment in a mind ever
pondering the great problems of the universe.
Good thoughts and a life ruled by the pre-
cepts laid down in the great book of nature
for those who can interpret her work make for
efficient longevity, and while advancing along
the lines of higher development Mr. Dow un-
consciously trod the path which tardy science
now recognizes as the true way to the most
[46]
perfect physical and mental existence. With-
out for a moment losing his grasp of the com-
plexities which make up the routine of life in
community, state and nation, his mind through
all the stress and storms of life retained its
calm serenity, and in times of physical leisure
was made the storehouse of the best that the
literati of the world has produced. With the
trust of his Puritan forbears he believed in the
church of Jesus Christ and with a liberal hand
gave to the support of His institution on
earth. His faith was as boundless as the cos-
mos, as steadfast as the eternal law of the
universe, and was marred by no narrow con-
ceptions of the great plan of redemption which
to him was comprehensive enough to embrace
all mankind.
There is something awe-inspiring in the
contemplation of a life that has been contem-
poraneous with the events of a hundred years
— especially when that century embraces the
larger part of the history and development of
this greatest nation on earth. And when we
remember that his was a mind that could
grasp and grow with that development; that
his heart was attuned to catch and feel the
pulsing hopes and fears, the joys and aspira-
tions in the great human tide of which he was
a part, we can but feel that his rewards in life
were far beyond those vouchsafed to most.
Looking back through the vista of a hundred
[47]
years we can see him a child in arms ere the
nation has ceased to mourn for its beloved
Washington, first President and father of his
country; we see him a sturdy lad of seven
when the Battle of Waterloo changed the map
of Europe ; we see a life that has been contem-
poraneous with that of every President except
Washington and John Adams ; we see Ameri-
can genius unfolding under his eyes as ex-
pressed in the complex development of rail-
road and water transportation, electrical com-
munication and the many-sided expansion of
manufacture and commerce. Through it all
he was in the forefront of the glorious strug-
gle for advancement and his mind easily kept
pace with the spirit of progress that animated
the age. Mr. Dow's growth was symmetrical.
His mind was not highly specialized in any
particular but like the perfect flower unfolded
equally in all directions and seemed to com-
prehend the splendid whole with a thankful
and reverent appreciation.
Mr. Dow was thrown upon his own re-
sources at an age when young men as a rule
most need the advice and direction of parents
in shaping their course, but this circumstance
only served to bring to an earlier develop-
ment those forces within him whose unfold-
ment made him the marvel of his generation
in many respects. His mind never seemed to
grow old and his wonderful mental poise was
[48]
maintained to the last. Perhaps his most re-
markable achievement was the penning, in a
graceful style peculiarly his own a few months
before death, of his personal memoirs cover-
ing incidents in his career from early child-
hood and showing that memory was still vig-
orously enthroned. His long life and well
nigh perfect preservation had of late years
attracted wide attention from the scientific
world as elsewhere and Mr. Horace Fletcher,
the eminent dietitian and psychologist who
visited him a few months ago pronounced Mr.
Dow the most perfect specimen of aged effi-
ciency in existence. In a private letter to the
writer following his visit Mr. Fletcher wrote:
"I expect to see you again and I hope often
during many years of Mr. Dow's life for as
long as he lives his home will be to me a shrine
— a Mecca of well-balanced and well-preserved
longevity. It is perhaps more significant to a
student of efficiency than to those who have
not given attention to the subject, but lives
become more valuable in geometrical ratio in
proportion to their extension in all four di-
mensions, and Mr. Dow's life seems to be as
nearly flawless as possible to imagine, and
well rounded in all directions. It is like an
hundred carat flawless diamond."
The Chautauqua Institution in which Mr.
Dow always took a deep interest had planned
an imposing celebration on his iooth birthday
[49]
in which he was to have been the guest of
honor at dinner and the widespread interest
in his life is further shown by the fact that
other societies about the country had planned
for special recognition of the occasion.
Mr. Dow was a man of uncompromising in-
tegrity and his comprehension and accurate
judgment as displayed in business relations
thrust him, though often against his will, into
positions of prominence from the first. He
was deeply interested in religious and educa-
tional matters and whether in church or school
his voice was always for progress along con-
servative lines. He was active in the organ-
ization of the Randolph Academy, now the
Chamberlain Military Institute, and was a
trustee of that institution until two years ago
when he retired in favor of his son, Charles
M. Dow, of Jamestown. He served as Justice
of the Peace and later as Supervisor of this
township for many years and in 1863 and
1864 was a member of the State Assembly
from this county. In 1872 he was elected to
the State Senate and although not known as a
prominent speaking member he was one of
the workers of that body and so thoroughly
mastered all subjects of legislation brought
before the senate that his advice was sought
on all important measures.
But while Mr. Dow's public record is one
in which the people of this community take a
[So]
pardonable pride, it is as the kind and grac-
ious neighbor, patriotic citizen, and generous
friend that those who shared his acquaintance
will best love to remember him. Though
burdened with many business cares and re-
sponsibilities both public and private he kept
in close touch with his home people to the
very last and no man or woman was too old
or child was too young to claim his attention.
Kindly inquiring but never impertinently in-
quisitive, he kept track of the growth and de-
velopment of families and rejoiced or sympa-
thized with them as the wheel of fate brought
joy or sorrow to the home. The greatest tri-
bute that can be paid to the spirituality of any
man is the love of a child and Mr. Dow's mem-
ory will be kept green in this village so long
as a child of the present generation survives.
He loved the children, knew more of them by
name than perhaps any other man in this vil-
lage and the affection was reciprocated by the
little ones who will long cherish his expres-
sions of kindness and advice.
Mr. Dow is dead but the record of his life
and grace of his example will stand as never
failing beacon lights to guide future genera-
tions in the way that leads to a realization of
the highest happiness.
[Si]
FUNERAL OF ALBERT GALLATIN DOW
From Jamestown Journal
May 27, 1908
NEAR the close of a perfect spring day
and just as the rays of the setting sun
silvered the clouds which hung in the
western sky, the mortal remains of
that venerable and venerated man, Albert G.
Dow, were laid to rest in the village grave-
yard at Randolph. Surrounded by children
and grandchildren, friends and neighbors, who
came to pay a tribute of love and admiration,
the body was lowered to its last resting place.
After a hundred years of ceaseless activity he
sleeps in peace beside many loved ones gone
before.
The entire funeral service was a most im-
pressive one; the Congregational Church in
the village of Randolph, where Mr. Dow was
a regular attendant and where his words of
faith and cheer and comfort had inspired so
many to a better life, where his prayers had
come like a benediction to those with whom
he prayed, where his voice had been so often
heard in testimony of faith in God and hu-
manity, and where his presence had always
been so welcome and cheering from the very
foundation of the church society, was filled
[52]
with relatives and friends, including neighbors
and business associates, professional men, for-
mer pastors, school children, old and young,
in whom he had taken an interest and who
loved the gentle patriarch like a father.
The casket in which the body rested stood
directly in front of the pulpit, and casket and
pulpit and choir loft were banked with flow-
ers. Roses predominated, although lilies and
carnations and other beautiful blossoms were
used in profusion among the many floral trib-
utes. The immediate family of Mr. Dow oc-
cupied seats in the center pews, while friends
and neighbors filled the seats at the sides and
back part of the auditorium and the Sunday
school room in the rear which had been thrown
open for the accommodation of the large num-
ber in attendance.
The service was conducted by the pastor of
the church, the Rev. Levi Rees, who was as-
sisted by a former pastor, Rev. Newman
Mathews of Kane, Pa., and two dear friends
of Mr. Dow, Rev. Dr. George Murray Col-
ville of Binghamton, N. Y., and Rev. Elliot C.
Hall of Jamestown. The service began by the
church choir softly singing that delightful
hymn, Jesus, Saviour, Pilot Me. The pastor
then read appropriate Scripture texts, prayer
was offered by Rev. Mr. Hall and the choir
sang, Wait, Meekly Wait. The funeral ser-
mon was preached by Rev. Mr. Rees, who
[53]
paid a fitting tribute to the life and services
of Mr. Dow and drew lessons from it as a hope
and inspiration for others.
Following Dr. Colville's address the village
choir sang in beautifully low tones that sweet-
est of hymns, Sweet Hour of Prayer, the bene-
diction was pronounced by Rev. Dr. Colville
and the congregation slowly left the church.
The body was carried to the funeral car by
the sons, Warren, Albert G., Jr., and Charles
M. Dow, four grandsons, Howard Dow,
Fletcher Goodwill, Marc D. Johnson and Dr.
Carl Tompkins, and a nephew, Charles Dow.
As the casket was carried from the church
the honorary bearers, consisting of the mem-
bers of the boards of directors of the National
Chautauqua County Bank of Jamestown and
the Salamanca Trust Company, formed lines
beside the walk through which the body was
carried.
A company of more than fifty cadets from
the Chamberlain Military Institute, in full uni-
form and carrying rifles, acted as special es-
cort to the funeral car in the journey from the
church to the village cemetery, the youthful
appearance of the cadets calling vividly to
mind the changes that have come and gone
since he in whose honor they were marching
was as young and active as they are today.
Most of the friends who attended the church
service went also to the cemetery for the com-
[54]
mittal service which was as simple and im-
pressive as the life of him whose body was
laid to rest. The grave was lined with ever-
greens and flowers and many flowers were
used in banking the monument upon the fam-
ily lot and the graves beside the newly made
one.
A special train was run from Jamestown to
Randolph for the accommodation of those
from this city and vicinity who wished to at-
tend the service, and this returned again im-
mediately following the burial.
Among the floral tributes were ninety-nine
yellow roses entwined among the greenery
about the casket, a tribute from the family;
a wreath of galax and bride roses from the
National Chautauqua County Bank of James-
town; a wreath of roses and lilies from the
First National Bank of Salamanca, and a
wealth of white carnations from the grand-
children, besides many rarely beautiful cut
flowers from hundreds of friends.
[55]
ADDRESS DEUVERED AT THE FUNERAL OF
ALBERT GALLATIN DOW AT RAN-
DOLPH ON MAY 26, 1908, BY
REV. LEVI REES.
N
"T^ y EVER shall I forget," said Max Miil-
ler, in the preface to his book, "The
Roman and the Teuton," "the mo-
ment when for the last time I gazed
upon the manly features of Charles Kingsley —
features which death had rendered calm, grand,
sublime. The constant struggle that in life
seemed to allow no rest to his expression, the
spirit, like a caged lion shaking the bars of his
prison, the mind striving for utterance, the soul
wearying for loving response — all that was
over. There remained only the satisfied ex-
pression of triumph and peace, as of a soldier
who had fought a good fight, and who, while
sinking into the stillness of the slumber of
death, listens to the distant sounds of music
and the shouts of victory. One saw the ideal
man, as nature had meant him to be, and one
felt that there is no greater sculptor than
death."
Much in that eloquent passage came into
my mind as I gazed for the last time upon the
beautifully fine, finely beautiful face of our dear
friend, Albert Gallatin Dow. I, too, saw the
[56]
ideal man as God — I prefer that term to the im-
personal one of "Nature" — meant him to be —
a combination of the ancient Hebrew Psalmists
ideality, "beauty and strength," and that of
the modern English poet's — Mathew Arnold —
"sweetness and light"; and it seemed to me
that the great sculptor, Death, had only chis-
elled into sublime relief and clearness the lines
that the soul had been forming upon those
fine features for almost one hundred years.
For, after all, Death does not create, it only
fixes the expression which the soul has been
developing during the years of its tenure of
the physical tabernacle. It is Life that is the
great master-artist. And so, much as we who
have looked upon the dead face of our dear and
honored friend, in the glory of its tender
strength and the beauty of its ineffable peace-
fulness, have been impressed by the rare com-
bination of moral and spiritual excellencies
stamped upon it, our admiration goes back
for its abiding rest, to the life which wrought
the loveliness that death so indelibly fixed
upon that noble face.
And what was the character of that life?
I care not so much about the record of its out-
ward activities only as they reveal the inward
spirit. I must confess that I have not been
favorably impressed by the custom in vogue
in this part of the country of reading what is
called an "obituary" at funeral services — an
[57]
"obituary" consisting mostly of dates and the
common events of any human life. What in-
spiration is there in listening to such a recital
as "the deceased was born on such and such
a date — married on such and such a date — had
so many children, and the name of each and all
given, of course — and finally died at the age
of so many years, months, weeks and even
days" ? What interests me is not the duration
of the period a man has spent between the
cradle and the grave, neither is it the mere
surface episodes of that period; but the tone
and temper of the life that was lived — the at-
mosphere in which it dwelt — the spirit which
animated its actions — the influence it exerted
— the spiritual touch it imparted.
In the case before us today, the very length
of the life, coupled with the vigor which it
maintained to the end, is worthy of comment.
It is a rare thing for a man to come within
three short months of the century mark, es-
pecially with the faculties of mind and body
not only unimpaired, but in fullness and keen-
ness of action and with all the signs of senility
conspicuous by their absence. But it is not
the vigor of body, nor yet the alertness of
mind that appeals to me most strongly. These
are but the outer courts of the temple of life,
and impressive though they be in this case
especially, we will not linger there, but pass
into the inner sanctuary — into the holy of
[58]
holies, and gaze for a while upon the glory of
the Lord as revealed in one of the choicest
spirits that ever incarnated itself in human
form. I have said, "the glory of the Lord re-
vealed in the spirit of our dear friend," for
we who accept the great truth of theology
which is so strongly and widely emphasized
today, the immanence of God, regard all ex-
cellencies of character as expressions of the
inherent divinity of man.
What do we behold in that inner sanctuary
of the life whose close we mark today by these
services? I have time only to barely mention
the graces and nobilities that are shining there
with a radiance soft and tender.
First of all, there was an integrity that
never lowered its high standard of strict jus-
tice in all his dealings with his fellowmen.
Honesty was not a mere policy — an expedi-
ency, with him. It was a principle rooted in
his character. Then, there was a benevolence
that loved to help individuals in distress, and
public causes that needed support. There was
no ostentatious parade of philanthropy on his
part. The greatest amount of the good he did
was done by stealth. Many a subscription list
of religious and benevolent organizations will
henceforth miss the name of A. G. Dow. The
last active day of his life was spent in connec-
tion with the expenditure of a goodly sum of
money in the interests of the church he loved
[59]
so well — a sum he had undertaken to pay him-
self.
Then, there was a strength of purpose and
a force of conviction that could not be easily
moved. He was not a reed shaken with the
wind — not a lath painted to look like iron.
What he undertook to do, he did whatever the
toil or sacrifice it involved. What he con-
ceived to be right he clung to with a tenacity
that would not relax. Dr. Lyman Abbott, in
the "Outlook" a few months ago, described
a certain prominent statesman who has been
twice defeated in his efforts to secure the high-
est and most exalted office in the land, and
who for the third time is a candidate for the
same office, as possessing the "Un-American
virtue of perseverance." As a new comer in
this country, I would hesitate to use that
phrase. I have quoted it only to say that Mr.
Dow was pre-eminent in the virtue commend-
ed. It is no secret that he was not born with
the proverbial silver-spoon in his mouth. He
told me himself that he was thrown on his
own resources when a lad of about fifteen
years of age. What he achieved we all know ;
and we know, too, that the position he at-
tained to, and the influence he commanded,
could not have been acquired by a weakling,
a shilly-shally, backboneless kind of being.
But combined with this strength of pur-
pose— this firmness of principle — this force of
[6o]
conviction, was a meekness, a gentleness, an
innate courtesy of manner which reminded
one of the simile of the "strong hand in the
velvet glove." You have heard the phrase, "a
fine old English gentleman" — I know one
well. I was associated with him in philan-
thropic work in Devonshire, England, for sev-
eral years. We sat together on the Hospital
Board, and the Board of Guardians of the
Poor, and I observed how he never failed to
infuse into the routine of the business of those
Boards his fine spirit of courtliness. He was
of noble lineage — the owner of a large estate
— the squire of the parish, most of which he
owned, and yet he was as humble and ap-
proachable as the poorest in the land. He
doffed his hat to a shop-girl, and bared his
head in the presence of a washerwoman. Mr.
Dow always reminded me of that fine old
English gentleman — so kind, so courteous, so
considerate was he, invariably, in demeanor
and in action. May the type increase. Let
us not think that self-assertion is evidence of
power. Personal aggressiveness is not win-
some— ostentation disgusts. Let us cherish
the idea that meeknees is not weakness, but
the sheen and luster of strength. So, evident-
ly, did our departed friend; and he translated
into living action the old Roman ideal of man-
hood— "fortiter in re, suaviter in modo."
Finally, in this inner sanctuary of his life,
[61]
we see how all the virtues and excellencies of
his character were crowned with a piety sincere
and deep-seated. I never inquired about the
specific articles of his religious creed. I never
was curious to learn whether his theological
views were orthodox or not. I only know that
a broad-minded and fearless presentation of
the truth was not objectionable to him, and
that he did not resent the efforts of his min-
ister to express the old religious ideas in terms
of modern light and knowledge. But what in-
terested me was the theology of the heart, not
of the head; the spirit of the life, not the let-
er of the creed ; the prayers that ascended from
the soul, not any dogmas the lips might utter ;
the holy influence which emanated from his
presence, like the fragrance of the flowers, not
any protestations of orthodoxy he might make.
He lived so much in the atmosphere of the
divine that he carried with him wherever he
went, some of its spiritual ozone, and those
who came in contact with him were bound to
feel its invigorating effect. I would sum up
the life, whose inner springs and external val-
ues I have been trying to unfold, as the em-
bodiment of the apostolic standard: "What-
soever things are just — whatsoever things are
pure — whatsoever things are lovely — whatso-
ever things are of good report : if there be any
virtue, and if there be any praise, think on
these things." And as it was so frequently
[62]
said of the grand old man of England, William
Ewart Gladstone, so will I say of the grand
old man of Randolph, "He wore the white
flower of a blameless life."
To you, the children and grandchildren of
our dear old friend, I would venture to say,
by way of loving reminder, that you have been
privileged above the ordinary run of mortals.
I know not — and it does not concern me or
anybody else outside your family circle to
know — what the amount of material substance
he has left for your comfort and enjoyment
may be. But I do know you have entered
upon an inheritance infinitely more precious
than the greatest material fortune — an inheri-
tance of a lofty example — of a name that
stands for everything true and noble — of a
reputation unsullied. The memory of him who
at last has departed from your midst will be a
rich spiritual possession to you. You will long
as most of us do for "the touch of the vanished
hand, for the sound of the voice that is still,"
but the touch of his spirit will be yours still if
so be that you keep yourselves susceptible to
it. Yes, the memory of the old home-life will
steady you in an hour when you will waver
under the shock of temptation. The thought
of father and grandfather will throw a spell
over you and drive you up the nobler path.
In the days when your faith shall be low and
your courage oozing away, memories of other
[63]
days in the old home will crowd behind you
like strengthening angels of God.
You, members of the church, have lost a
wise lea r and a generous supporter. His
prayers and counsels will not be forgotten,
and I trust his example will prove to you a
shining beacon to higher things.
A familiar figure has passed from your
midst, inhabitants of Randolph, a gracious
presence has been withdrawn from amongst
you. But his character and conduct, his pure
and upright life is your heritage, too. Prize
it by conforming to the ideals presented in
your midst for so many years in the life of
your leading citizen. We cannot hope per-
haps, all of us, to attain to the same ripe old
age. But let us remember that the measure
of life is not its duration but its quality. As
Philip James Bailey has said in his "Festus" :
"We live in deeds, not years, in thoughts, not breaths,
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best."
We shall soon leave what is mortal of our
dear friend in the cold and silent tomb, but
this one luminous thought, this precious truth
I would leave with you : He will not be there.
He is with God. In what realm, and in what
form, I cannot say. I have never presumed
to locate the abode of the blessed dead, nor
[64]
to be dogmatic upon the future life of the re-
deemed.
"I know not where His islands 1%
Their fronded palms in air,
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care."
14 If faith in God remaineth and dieth not,
If love abiding ever is ne'er forgot,
If kindness is eternal as Heaven overhead,
0 friend of mine that sleeps thou are not dead.
"Yea, wrapt close within my own heart's glow
1 hold thy life and will not let it go.
While God is love, and love is not a lie,
0 friend of mine that steepest, thou can'st not die.'
[65]
REMARKS AT THE FUNERAL SERVICE BY
REV. NEWMAN MATTHEWS.
AFTER the beautiful and eloquent trib-
ute to our dear and honored friend to
which we have listened with rapt atten-
tion, it hardly seems needful that any-
thing further be said. Nevertheless, this is a
remarkable and memorable occasion and it is
proper that we allow ourselves more time than
is usually given to such services as these.
This is a profoundly impressive occasion. As
the moments of the hour have been slipping
away, it has occurred to me that perhaps we
could not now fully realize its significance. In
days to come we will realize it more than we
do now. In years to come this day will stand
out in our memory. We shall never be able
to forget it, nor would we wish to. It marks
a crisis in the history of this community. This
remark is justified because of the large place
which our noble friend held in the life of the
community and that for so long a time.
I am reminded of what Phillips Brooks said
at the time of the death of his friend Mr. Rich-
ardson. Mr. Richardson was the architect of
the Trinity Church in Boston, which was built
during the ministry of Mr. Brooks. Both of
the men were geniuses, each in his own line,
[66]
and for many years they had labored together
to complete that noble structure. The great
preacher was stirred to the depths of his heart
and upon the intelligence of his friend's death
remarked that it was "as if one should awake
to find the mountain which one's window had
always faced, and upon which one's eyes had
always looked, suddenly and forever gone."
So we feel today. The passing of Mr. Dow
is as though a rugged hill like those of the
state from which he came had been suddenly
and forever removed.
I am glad that Mr. Rees in what he has said
about Mr. Dow has emphasized the things
that most count. Those of you who have
known Mr. Dow for a long period of years
may perhaps be thinking, as you look back
over his long career, of different phases of his
business and public life. I cannot do that for
it is only during these more recent years of his
life that I have known him. These are the
years that seem to me must have been the
richest and most beautiful of his life. During
these years it is not too much to say that I
have been closely associated with him and I
am deeply impressed that there has been some-
thing much greater about his life than his suc-
cess in business or public life, notable as these
have been. I am bold to think that I have
read the secret of his life and that the secret
of his life was his godliness, his piety. He was
[67]
a man of God. He walked with God day by
day. I used often to think and often to say
that it was worth while to come to the prayer
meeting, where he was always to be found
when at home, just to hear him pray. It
helped to lift the burden of care resting on our
minds. It seemed to lift us into heavenly
places. It may not be known to you all that
in private life he was a man of prayer. After
breakfast it has been his custom for many
years to read a chapter from the Bible and to
pray. During the years since my pastorate
here closed, I have been entertained in his
home a number of times and I shall never for-
get the seasons of prayer we have had to-
gether.
I have a deep sense of loss with you all to-
day, but there is a stronger feeling in my
heart than that of loss. It is the feeling of
gratitude that God spared his life for so many
years to be so great a blessing to us all. I
count it one of the greatest privileges and
blessings of my ministry to have known him.
What a blessing he has been in this commun-
ity! His greetings as he passed along the
street, his gracious handshake, in fact, his very
presence was a benediction, I thank God for
such a gift.
The tender and beautiful poem of Dr. Chad-
wick in remembrance of the dead has come
to my mind. With this I should like to close.
[68]
It singeth low in every heart,
We hear it, each and all, —
A song of those who answer not,
However we may call ;
TJiey throng the silence of the breast,
We see them as of yore, —
The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet,
Who walk with us no more !
'Tis hard to take the burden up.
When these have laid it down ;
They brightened all the joy of life,
They softened every froum ;
But oh, 'tis good to think of them,
When we are troubled sore !
Thanks be to God that such have been,
Though they are here no more.
More homelike seems the vast unknown,
Since they have entered there ;
To follow them were not so hard,
Wherever they may fare ;
They cannot be where God is not,
On any sea or shore ;
Whate'er betides, thy love abides,
Our God for evermore I
[69]
REMARKS AT THE FUNERAL SERVICE BY
REV. GEORGE MURRAY COLVILLE, D. D.
IN the tragedy of Hamlet the immortal
bard puts into the mouth of the gentle
Ophelia these words: "Here's rosemary;
that's for remembrance. And here's pan-
sies; that's for thoughts." So I come today
with a twig of rosemary and a sprig of pansy
and twining them together, I lay it as my
tribute of respect and love upon the grave of
the noble dead.
"Here's rosemary ; that's for remembrance."
Years have passed away but it seems like yes-
terday, when at the close of a Sabbath service
I was presented to Mr. Albert G. Dow. There
was a pardonable pride in the tone of the son
in that introduction. No wonder, for that
father was no ordinary man, and I felt the
quiet influence of reserved power and perfect
self-control. Since then it has been my lot
to be frequently in his company, and the gen-
tle dignity and poise of the man ever grew in
my conception of his character, until I fully
learned the pure and lofty nature of our broth-
er beloved.
It is a great thing to have lived one hundred
years in this world and to have thoroughly
earned one's grave. To leave a record without
[70]
a blot, a name without a stain and a character
and a career that make the whole countryside
a debtor to the dead. This is literally true of
Albert G. Dow. We are all in debt to him.
The remarkable thing, the striking charac-
teristic in our departed friend was the well
balanced head he carried above his shoulders.
He had no eccentricities. He had no pet vir-
tue, no little hobby or special excellence
which he always aired and rung the changes
on. He was a broad-minded man; he had
many windows to his mind; he took in light
from every quarter and thus could speak pro-
fitably on all questions that engaged the inter-
est or concerned the conduct of human life.
There was nothing weak or compromising
in his nature or in his treatment of great ques-
ions or fundamental principles. When a prin-
ciple was at stake he set his face like a flint,
and like Athanasius would stand against the
world. We have lost one of the best and wis-
est and most loyal champions of righteous-
ness in western New York. It is a personal
affliction, it is a calamity to this community.
Alas ! a great man and leader has fallen in the
land.
Now, let me add a sprig of pansy for
thoughts. I thank God for his noble life, for
his long career, pure character, deep piety and
fertile brain, and his great influence in the
widening lives of others whose steps he direct-
[71]
ed by his counsels and whose hearts he
strengthened by his unwavering faith in God.
The simple deeds of Washington do not ac-
count for the place which he holds now in the
hearts of his countrymen, but something finer
in the man, that latent force, character, did it.
This is specially true of him to whose memory
we now pay tribute. He was gifted as a finan-
cier, careful and conservative in his actions,
and he knew the value of weighing carefully
evidence. He was a modest man, unostenta-
tious, thoughtful, self-poised and calm.
He lived always in helpful relations with
others. For long years he has been identified
with the progressive life of western New York
and always influenced it for good. This is the
chiefest outward expression one can make,
and it lives long after death. The best part of
a man's life the grave cannot touch, nor hold.
More enduring than porphyry or granite,
which loving hands may rear above the sacred
dust of the beloved dead, is the influence which
one leaves behind in other lives and in institu-
tions which he may have helped to foster and
sustain. The true dignity of life is in duty,
love and service. Albert G. Dow's life is an
inheritance for us all and we are all the richer
for that noble nature. He has fought a good
fight, he has finished his course, and now rests
with those who have gone before. Shall we
resolve to accept the trust laid upon us now
and be the better for the heritage of this sin-
cere, honest, Christian man.
[72]
N
MR. LINCOLN'S TRIBUTE *
"T^ "yEARLY across the span of our Re-
public's history, stretches the life of
the venerable Albert G. Dow. He
was born nine years after the death
of the 'father of his country' and had lived
during the administration of every Pres-
ident of the United States, with the exception
of Washington and Adams. He had seen the
marvelous development of our country and
its resources. It was my privilege to con-
verse briefly once with the noble centenarian,
who is gone. I can not describe the thoughts
and feelings, which rushed through my soul
during those brief moments. Nearly a hun-
dred years of history before my eyes ! Before
me a man, who had actually experienced and
lived through the most stirring periods in our
country, whose narratives had thrilled my
heart many times ! I bared my head and stood
in silence and — listened.
* At the conclusion of the services in the First Lutheran
Church, Jamestown, Sunday morning, the Rev. Julius Lin-
coln mentioned the death of ex-Senator Dow, which occurred
at Randolph on Saturday evening. At the evening service,
which was largely attended by children and young people,
the pastor drew lessons from the beautiful, long life, which
has just closed.
[73]
"There are fine lessons to be drawn from
Mr. Dow's long and useful life. Briefly, they
can be condensed into one sentence: It pays
to care for the body and it pays to care for the
soul. It is an absolute impossibility to attain
a good age, without paying attention to rules
of health for both body and soul. To have
reached an age of nearly one hundred years
is proof of conscientious regard for the needs
of our organism. From an immediate mem-
ber of the family, of which our departed friend
was the head, I have the information that a
simple trust in God, which found its expres-
sion in daily family devotional services, char-
acterized his home. Keeping faith with God
and keeping the conscience clean makes for
health and a good age.
"I wish to take exception to the statement
made by many, that they do not want to live
to be so old. Personally I have no higher de-
sire so far as this life is concerned than to live
to a good age, if I may keep my physical and
mental faculties and not be a burden to any-
one.
"Today I feel that we owe a debt of grati-
tude to the memory of the man, who has dem-
onstrated that it is possible to live a long, a
good and a useful life and who by his life has
stimulated a new interest in right living."
[74]
L
DR. HICKMAN'S REMARKS *
"f AST evening at 10 o'clock at his home
in Randolph, Senator Albert G. Dow
ended a long and distinguished life
on earth to enter the rewards of just
men made perfect. We all join in a feeling
of sorrow with the friends; and we regret
that this extraordinary man was taken be-
fore he had rounded up, next August, a
century of years. He was one of the most
interesting and unique men I ever knew.
He had a beautifully chiseled, full orbed
life, a quiet reserve, a modest bearing, and
yet a courage and firmness that comes
from self control, right purpose, and well es-
tablished principles. I feel this loss personal-
ly, as I knew this gentleman, and cherished
the wish of greeting him on his one hundredth
anniversary. Blessed is that son or daughter
who carries the name of such a father ! Bless-
ed is that son or daughter who goes out from
such a home, made beautiful by such a life!
Blessed is that son or daughter who cherishes
in memory the gentle and affectionate gov-
ernment around the fireside and in the family
circle of such a parent ! A good name is more
to be desired than riches and honor."
* At the First Congregational Church, Jamestown, Sun-
day morning, Rev. Dr. W. H Hickman, the pastor, made
this announcement before his sermon, concerning the death
of Mr. Dow.
[75]
ACTION OF STATE LEGISLATURE
Associated Press Dispatch
ALBANY, May 26.— The Senate and As-
sembly adjourned today out of respect for the
late Senator Dow, whose funeral occurred at
Randolph today.
Jamestown Evening Journal, May 27, 1908
That was a graceful and unusual tribute paid
to the memory of former State Senator Albert
G. Dow on the day of his burial — the adjourn-
ment of the New York State Senate. Mr.
Dow was an honored member of that body a
generation ago, and his services to the state
as well as to the community in which he lived
so long and so well, were entitled to this un-
usual mark of respect.
Jamestown Morning Post, May 27, 1906
A remarkable tribute to the memory of Al-
bert G. Dow was paid yesterday by the large
number of citizens who gathered at the beau-
tiful village of Randolph for the last rites. The
Senate at Albany, of which he was a member
a full generation ago, adjourned in his honor.
Men paid him all the respect due not only to
his great age, but to his remarkable personal-
ity and achievements.
[76]
IN MEMORY OF A GOOD MAN
Mrs. Esther C. Davenport in Buffalo News
WESTERN New York has, within the
past week, laid away its most dis-
tinguished citizen, Albert Gallatin
Dow, and nothing could be more
fitting, more perfect and beautiful than the
manner of his burial and the ceremonies
which attended it. All day on Tuesday his
body lay in state in the little church in Ran-
dolph which he had built — above him the bell
which the previous Saturday night tolled the
99 strokes that announced to the villagers that
their best friend, their chief citizen, had passed
on, just a few short weeks of his iooth birth-
day.
From far and near his friends gathered and
at noon the school children, whom he loved,
came with their teachers and in something of
a holiday spirit marched in a half sad, half
joyous procession past his bier and took a last
look on the beautiful face, chiseled and per-
fected by his life and death, into the repose of
exquisite white marble.
Old men and young followed him to the
church yard, and women of every degree, and
from the great mound of flowers heaped about
his grave, one threw in a red rose, repeating
[77]
"Dust to dust/' another "rosemary for remem-
brance," and another "pansies for thoughts,"
and one cast in a white flower in memory of
a White Life, and one broke off and brought
away an ivory white rose with the blush of
May in its heart. And over all was the late
afternoon sun falling aslant his grave like a
benediction.
And so we left him — "silently at rest in sol-
emn salvatory" — a great and a good man,
whose life and death set him apart from ordi-
nary men. A man whose life and example will
be cherished in long and loving remembrance.
The churchyard where he lies is on a ver-
dant slope overlooking scenes beloved by him
for many years. Loving hands day by day are
making his resting place more beautiful, and
"Life" indeed "doth make his grave her ora-
tory," and "the crown is still on his brow."
[78]
LE Ap '09