Norman Howard Bartlett

Front matter

I cannot feel that thou art far, Since near at need the angels are; And when the sunset gates unbar, Shall I not see thee waiting stand.

And, white against the evening star, The welcome of thy beckoning hand.

— WMttier.

Foreword

Calmly he looked on either life, and here Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear; From Nature's temperate feast rose satisfied; Thanked Heaven that he had lived, and that he died.

The fairest, noblest, strongest of the leaders of men are not born of the purple and reared in plenty, but rather the best specimens of humanity are those who have won their diplomas by persistent effort, and gained their success by untiring zeal and constant endeavor. The noblest must feel the throb of life's storms to appreciate the sunlight of restful days.

There is a glory and a grandeur in the life well rounded out with years of work, when the toiler falls at the set of sun worn with his tasks prolonged, that leads us to exclaim: "He has been blessed with complete success; what a glorious career!" Man and nature here united to build one perfect whole. But when we stand by the silent form of him who was cut down in the springtime, with so much of promise, of anticipation, of ambition unfulfilled, we are led to murmur: "What a pity; what a loss!" He may have accomplished more than many who have lived the allotted three score years and ten, but we forget that in the disap-

FOREWORD. 7

pointment of this sudden destruction of our castles of hope. There is an exhilarating influence, a specific encouragement in his early endeavor and triumph that does not come with the efforts of later years.

Every young man with a laudable ambition, and a firm resolution to conquer, becomes in the deepest sense of the word a brother of him cut down in the midst of his work, his spirit flown to that "undiscovered country" fresh from the battlefield here, and strong to take up there the onward march to that success which, at its highest, can be only a dream to him who remains. The story of Xorman Bartlett's earthly career is that of condensed effort, determined purpose, and fitting reward; it proves the value and the capacity of youth. By his grave the young man can stand with a deeper, truer consciousness of his own subtle powers than elsewhere. What an example such a career is to the discouraged youth halting at the foot of the hill, hesitating to brave the obstacles that lie in his path, the stern realities that forever environ the garden of the gods! If Xorman Howard Bartlett, with the shadow of physical weakness ever haunting him, could mount to such heights, how far may he not climb in the full swing of a vigorous manhood, if he will only throw the load of a faint-heart at his feet!

In closing this prelude to my simple memoir of him who deserved a more trenchant pen than mine to build the work, I feel that I can not do better than to embody the ideas and the Avords of a student of his, who has happily said in speaking of Mr. Bartlett's oratorical training and manner of teaching the art he loved so well: "Indeed, the

8 FOREWORD.

idea I have is that the ancient Greeks practiced those same oratorical forms for I see everywhere in the pictures and representations of statuary after Grecian order those same arrangements of the figure. Do you know, if I should ever wander among the ancient ruins of Greece, and should fall asleep among the mightiest of them all, I should expect to dream of attending classes in oratory there with Professor Bartlett as instructor. I used to class him in my own mind as a modern Greek, his devotion to the art was so genuine and so complete." If I have erred in my judgment, then others have erred with me; if I have spoken the word fitly, then shall I consider that I have only done justice to a noble character.

G. Waldo Browne.

Manchester, N. H., June 20, 1904.

NOEMAN HOWARD BAETLETT.

Chapter I

"What a wilderness were this sad world If man were always man and never child!"

Fortunate is the person who is born with a deep-seated love for his birthplace, and doubly fortunate is he who has through life the sweet influences and inspirations of an early home, pleasant and hopeful in its influences. A learned writer has well said, "Tell me of one's birthland and I will tell you of his character." A people environed with mountains, whose broadsides are in truth prison walls, but whose every breath is of freedom, could not be other than a race of freemen, for there is that in the very atmosphere, in the mountain breeze, in the sweet intonations of the valley echo, which breathes of a love for liberty. So the race whose native realm is the wide-sweeping plain, boundless in its vastness, looks out with an anxious gaze from its tented home and longs to be rushing over its domains. The fingerpoints of the limitless space seem to beckon one away like unseen forces, and the meeting place of the bended sky and the lifting plain is to him the Mecca of his dreams. But his is not a love for liberty, rather an impulse, a restlessness that overmasters him and makes him a slave to caprice, a wanderer. The freeman is the founder of a home, and no race can be strictly free that has no love for home-life.

Norman Howard Bartlett, born in Ellenburgh, Clinton County, N. Y., June 17, 1871, was thus fortunate in his early environments, which if speedily exchanged for other scenes, seemed to have made a lasting impression upon him. The spot hallowed in his memory by the visits of later years was a cottage placed in the companionship of pleasant homes, the hamlet encircled by green fields, merging into delightful valleys, where the murmur of running waters vied with the songs of birds, the picture framed by a vista of mountains

"Bathed in the tenderest purple of distance, Tinted and shadowed by pencils of air."

Happy indeed must have been the blending of the spirits that govern such a scene, giving a lasting impression to his life. There was here no dust from the city pavements, the noise and tumult of the mob was lacking, the restless endeavor constantly beckoning man on to greater unrest, but in their place the silent, yet potent, forces of Nature inspiring, not less than soothing, to him who has felt their gentle influences ; here centered the sacred delights of all that was best and noblest in creation as well as in art, a sweet refuge place for memory in the days that try the soul of the earnest worker. It was natural that he should write in the midst of his trials and triumphs, when he was crowding into his brief span of hopeful endeavor the labor that belongs to three-score years and ten: "There is no place like my old home in Ellenburgh, and I want to spend my last days there."

Norman was the only child of Duncan Warton and Ida (Plumley) Bartlett. On his paternal side we find a family

NORMAN HOWARD BARTLETT. H

that was widely distributed here in America, and of influence, often of prominence, in business, professional and social relations. His father, the son of Leroy and the grandson of Samuel Bartlett, who came to America from England about 1800, was born in St. Albans, Vt. He has made his home in Manchester, N. H., since 1874, where he is well known, having been connected with the gentlemen's clothing business for many years. Mr. Bartlett's mother was Serena Holmes, whose ancestral family came from Great Britain in 1823. The Holmeses were also a prominent family, distinguished for their sterling qualities of mind and body, numbering among them the noted poet, Oliver Wendell Holmes. It is related that at the time Mr. Duncan Holmes, the maternal grandfather of Mr. Bartlett, was about to start with his newly wedded wife for this country, he was stopped and compelled to postpone his passage until he had served his time in the army. Immediately upon finishing this service he and Mrs. Holmes embarked for New England, leaving behind them their eldest born child, who never followed them.

Norman's mother was the fourth daughter of Evet and Lucinda (Hinds) Plumley. Mr. Plumley was born in Willsboro, Essex county, N. Y., in 1818, the son of Horatio Plumley, who came from England where he had begun the study of law and who was drowned in Lake Champlain in 1819, when Evet was a little over a year old. The young child, left thus early to the sole care and guidance of his mother, became in manhood a prosperous farmer and an honored citizen. During the Civil war he was active in buying and selling wool and horses with profit. He took a deep interest in the politics of Clinton county, which at that

12 NOBMAN HOWABD BABTLETT.

period afforded ample activity for the champions of the rival factions. He held several offices in local circles and frequently addressed public meetings though never aspiring to be considered a platform debater. It is probable that those qualities which will be spoken of later as predominating in the character of Norman were inherited from this fearless, sturdy, outspoken grandfather, through his mother, the natural course of transmission. A cousin of the former, Eev. Alden Plumley, was a Methodist minister well known in northern New York.

Mrs. Plumley, nee Lucinda Hinds, was the fifth daughter of Benjamin F. Hinds, who was a physician and surgeon in the war of 1812. Dr. Hinds and wife were among the first ten families to settle in Ellenburgh, moving there from Andover, Vt., in 1823, with their five young daughters. The first birth in the new town, named Ellenburgh for the daughter of one of the large land-owners, Miss Ellen Murray, was a son born to this worthy couple in 1825, and named after Mr. Loyd Rogers, who made his namesake a present of fifty acres of land.

The youngest daughter, Lucinda, who married the young farmer, Evet Plumley, as has been mentioned, was an intelligent woman and a great reader of good literature. Like her husband she was deeply interested in the affairs of the day. Nothing delighted her more than to listen to a strong public address. Upon going twenty-five miles one fall to hear Horace Greely lecture at a fair, she was asked upon her return home if she felt fully paid for her efforts. "Paid?" she asked, with characteristic earnestness, "I was so well pleased that I am going to hear him again tomorrow."

Mrs. Bartlett, before her marriage, was a teacher in the

NOBMAN HOWAED BAETLETT. 13

public schools, where she was very successful, possessing a natural aptitude for the calling, as well as a mastery of the principles of good order, which was hers by natural gift. With a sweet, classical countenance, a gentle, firm control over others, a winning, softly modulated voice, a sanguine temperament that oversteps all opposition, it is easy to see from whence the child received those gifts which were to affect his whole life.

The family moving to Manchester, N. H., in March, 1874, Norman was taken away from the scenes he had already begun to admire with childish pleasure and a strength that other scenes could not tear from his mind's eye.

The life of a boy is the heart of a boy. There can be little to record, and yet there is a no more active period in his existence. At no time in life are his duties and his endeavors so varied; his sports, with their rapid transformations, now laughable, anon serious; the peculiar perils into which childish feet stumble; the strange and romantic incidents occurring with wonderful frequency; the lights and shadows that fall across his pathway; what a mingling of dreams and reality, of triumph and failure, of care and carelessness, of laughter and tears, a kaleidoscope of shifting scenes, through all of which we see the truth of the words of the immortal Milton: "The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day."

Norman soon proved a precocious child, eager to learn, and mastering with remarkable rapidity problems that puzzled much older heads. He thus lived a dual childhood, one fraught with childish glee and pleasure, the other blended with the more mature thoughts that belong to an older life. He was not four years old when lie began to develop that talent which became his guiding star through life, and we find him frequently reciting at church entertainments, before Good Templars, and Juvenile Templars. On account of this remarkable aptitude he was made a member of the Juvenile Templars when he was only a little over four, though the age limit was five years. Nothing seemed to delight him more than these public exercises, and at one time upon being complimented for his success, he replied with a gravity characteristic of him: "I thank you, Brother Rogers, but I like it."

The family were at this time members of the Tabernacle M. E. church at Manchester, the pastor being the Eev. J. Benson Hamilton. Mr. Hamilton, as well as the Rev. H. F. Woods, of the Christian church, who was in charge of the Juvenile Templars, became very much attached to him, a friendly feeling that was strongly reciprocated by the child.

The brightest home is not free from its shadow, and in his fifth year Norman fell very ill, so ill in fact, that his life hung for weeks on a slender thread. Even his parents, while they watched over him with tearful solicitude, lost hope. Nor could they disguise the dread alternative from the young sufferer, who came to realize better than they, perhaps, that he was not likely to recover. Often he would say, while he manfully concealed his agony: "Mamma, I am so sick today I cannot see any one except Brother Hamilton or Brother Woods. I can see them," showing by his words the peculiar relationship he bore to those older than he. Looking up into his mother's countenance he surprised her one morning by asking: "Mamma, do you think I am going to die?" "I hope not," was the gentle reply, the fond parent not daring to say that she felt confident of hope. "Well, mamma, I am willing to die if it is God's will, but I should like to live and preach like Brother Hamilton."

A local paper, the Sunday Globe, under date of February 20, 1876, after referring to Norman's illness, said:

The boy is the only child, and is well known in connection with his able and almost precocious powers of elocution, an<7 feats of memory at Sunday school concerts.

The Manchester Union of February 21 used the following language in speaking of him:

Norman Bartlett, the little boy who met with a serious accident last Wednesday is no better this morning, but continues to fail, and probably cannot recover. He is about four years old, and is a very bright and intelligent little fellow, and is well known by his great memory and power of declamation, which he has exhibited at Sunday school concerts.

Again on March 5, it says:

Norman Bartlett is no better and his parents have yielded to his desire to be taken to Ellenburgh, N. Y. He left, accompanied by his mother, on the eight o'clock train last evening.

The little patient, his hope buoyed up by the thoughts that he was returning to his old home, a trip that had been made once before, stood the fatigues of his journey with great fortitude, and the change proved beneficial so far that in a few weeks he showed a decided improvement in his condition. He continued to gain in strength, until his mother came back to their Manchester home with him in the summer. He was now about his childish tasks, but it was feared that he would never be strong again, a fear that became hope deferred as the years passed by.

As soon as he was able we find Norman again taking an active part in church entertainments and select festivals. One little affair of this kind at the St. Paul's M. E. church fair in October, 1882, deserves especial mention. This was a mimic reproduction of that fascinating story of childhood, "The House that Jack Built." On account of the uniqueness of the arrangements and the clever manner in which Norman acted the part of Jack, this elicited the most flattering commendations. The Daily Mirror of October 14, says:

"The House that Jack Built" was repeated the second night, by request, and it received a recall the same as on Wednesday evening, Master Bartlett captivating the audience in the role of Jack.

During these years of his early childhood, his mother taught music, having a class of pupils. Norman was scarcely two years old before he evinced great talent as well as interest in this direction, rapidly and easily mastering difficult selections. He possessed a sweet, musical voice.

Owing to his frail health he was not sent to the public school until he was fitted for the grammar grade, his mother instructing him. In his attention to his studies he proved himself of a studious nature, and was as regular in his lessons as if he was attending school. If he was out at play the moment he heard the school bell he would come into the house and take his book. Possessing a very retentive memory his studies were never real tasks to him, while it was always a pleasure to teach him.

NOBMAN HOWARD BABTLETT. 17

As the little things of life go to make up the great sum of human existence, so the minor incidents of common life illustrate the real character of the individual. The more thoughtful that nature the more lasting the impression. At one time, while visiting in Koxbury, Vt., with Mrs. Bartlett's sister, Mrs. L. A. Wilson, they stopped at the American House in Montpelier. Here he became engaged in conversation with a lady, who was so forcibly struck by his decorous manner that she remarked afterwards that "his dignity and politeness were equal to the well-bred man of twenty-five."

We get another illustration of his nature in the little incident that took place when he was seven. His mother had given him permission to play with some boys in the yard, but it was not long before he was seen to return to the house and upon being asked if he had tired of the company of his playmates, he replied:

"I do not care to play with those boys. I never heard such English as they use. I told them they had better go home and study their grammars." Upon being reminded that he had not studied grammar himself, he said: "That is what the boys told me, but I explained that I had learned grammar from my mother." What an illustration of the influence of home life and example!

He had shown his love and desire for the church at an early age, as may be readily inferred, and it is related that when he was eight years old, upon finding one Sunday morning that his parents would not be able to attend worship that day, he said: "Mamma, I must go to church. What will God think of us if we all stay at home today? Papa is sick so you cannot go, but I must go." So the childish voice comes through the years like pure strains of music wafted upward in the deep stillness of twilight; and the innocent days of childhood blossom with ever increasing beauty in the garden of memory, as sweet forget-menots brighten the summer of Nature.

PORTRAIT AT 10.

From Photograph by Colby, Manchester, N. H.

Chapter II

"To teach high thought, and amiable words. And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes a man."

Under the efficient tuition of his mother, Norman's health at this time permitting, he entered the grammar school on Spring street, in Manchester, at the age of twelve, completing his course in the Franklin school and graduating in the class of 1887. While attending this school he had private lessons in elocution under the instruction of its principal, Prof. Fred C. Baldwin.

His first public success in this direction came when in February, 1887, he was one of the winning contestants for the Clarke prizes, an annual trial of elocutionary merit among the pupils of the local schools, established by the late Col. John B. Clarke. The Mirror and American, one of the local papers, in a review of the contest had the following good words to say of him:

A long and difficult selection is "The Light from over the Range," but Master Bartlett brought to it an impressive style of delivery, an ease of bearing, an intensity of feeling, an intelligence of comprehension and a grace of movement that served to complete the rounded whole, gave much satisfaction, and reflected great credit upon the principal. He entered into the pathetic passages with sincerity, and at times made very realistic points. Before he had spoken two minutes it was generally conceded that he would come in for a prize.

Norman was chosen as valedictorian of his class at the graduation exercises in June, 1887, and he recited the following address in a most eloquent and impressive manner:

VALEDICTORY.

Delivered Before the Grammar School Class of '87 in Mechanics Hall, Manchester, N. H.

And now, dear friends, accept the thanks of our class for the earnest attention that you have accorded our several parts. We have turned the first goal at the end of our Grammar school course, and the race is won. For years have we striven for the mastery; neck and neck have we sped along that course of study which looks so smooth on paper, but which we assure you we have found in some parts exceedingly hard to travel.

Our thoughts today dwell largely on the past and the present, but our relations to the future must not be overlooked or ignored. We are regarded today as happy, aimless school children, but some of us have hopes, aspirations and ambitions not yet confided to our dearest friends. In regard to the past we feel that we have tried to accomplish the work assigned us by our teachers who have invariably given us their best efforts both in precept and example.

In regard to the present our hearts are filled with gratitude whose fullness we are unable to express. We thank the members of the board of education for the wise manner in which they have conducted the affairs of our school. We thank the members of the sub-committee of this school for their interest in our behalf. We thank the efficient superintendent of public instruction for his occasional words of friendly encouragement. We thank the "City Fathers" for the generous expenditures that have made so many advantages our own. But not least is our gratitude to our teachers, who have so skillfully guided our wayward steps, and lifted us up toward that higher intellectual plane which they occupy.

Classmates, we part today at the portal of a world untried. Hitherto we have had more or less help in our tasks, but now we are thrown upon our own resources, and the responsibility of a soul's destiny rests upon each of us. This life is but a journey to Eternity, whether long or short is known to Him alone.

But this we do know, that though we are not held accountable for the days allotted us, we surely are responsible for the manner in which we spend them.

What we shall be here and hereafter depends largely upon the manner in which we improve our time and opportunities, and upon our influences and associates.

Nor should we be content to grasp things that perish with the using. What is mere worldly wealth to cultivated intellect and high moral character? We know that the treasures of wisdom are not to be seized with a violent hand, but are earned by persistent labor.

But character is the most enduring thing in the universe, and he who trains the intellect is working for a very limited time, but he who is developing character is working for eternity.

Let us then, dear classmates, take industry, frugality, temperance, and integrity as our watchwords, and in imitation of our revered Franklin, strive to accomplish something that shall make our fellow-travelers wiser, better, happier.

Nothing great is lightly won, Nothing won is lost.

Every good deed nobly done Will repay the cost.

Our present is the seed-time of our maturer years; the soil on which we may cultivate the most precious possibilities of our intellectual, moral, spiritual natures, is at our feet. Shall we, then, allow our springtime to pass unimproved, and harvest nothing but noxious weeds?

Help yourself and heaven will help you should you deserve a crown.

At the graduating exercises, besides giving the valedictory, he read that stirring account from "Ben Hur" of "The Chariot Pace." The voice, gestures, and delivery of the boy reader enabled him to render this difficult selection in a way which fairly captivated the listeners, and it was declared unanimously to be a masterly effort.

Upon graduating from the grammar school he entered the Manchester high school, taking a college course. "While here he took lessons in German of Dr. Williams, pastor of St. Paul's M. E. church, and a graduate of Berlin. He continued his lessons in elocution with Professor Baldwin, and kept up his training in music with different teachers. He remained here a year. During his vacation the following summer he improved the first opportunity to carry out the desires of his active, ambitious mind. As a very young child the charm, the fascination of reciting in public had been a sort of overmastering desire, and now, in the summer of 1888, having learned, studied, and mastered the particular qualities of each selection, he looked around him for a field wherein he might cultivate his talent as a public reader. He was quickly drawn toward his "old home," as certainly as the magnetic needle is turned toward the north pole. So he went ostensibly upon a visit to his Aunt Phebe Plumley Carew, making his stopping-place with her, while he began to give a series of entertainments at churches, halls, and other places, extending his trip into the great pleasure and health resorts of the Adirondack mountains.

His programs consisted principally of readings by himself, accompanied by some singer or musician when convenient, but always depending mainly on his own efforts for success. Wherever he went he was received with hearty encomiums of praise. At these entertainments, notably at Lyon mountain, where he gave readings in the town hall, and at the Merrill house at Chateaugay lake, he interested cultured guests from New York city, all of whom were highly pleased with his efforts. It was certainly no small accomplishment for this young reader, alone and unaided to gain. Among the many flattering press notices accorded him, the following must suffice.

The Plattsburg Sentinel has this to say of him:

Master Norman Bartlett of Manchester, N. H., is giving elocutionary entertainments in town. He is well trained, and possesses a fine natural talent, and if he continues he will make his mark in the world.

The Plattsburgh, N. Y '., Republican at this time, August 3, 1888, paid the young elocutionist the following well merited compliment:

Master Norman H. Bartlett, a talented young elocutionist oi Manchester, N. H., entertained a select audience at Ellenburgh Center, August 3, in a very efficient manner. If an easy stage presence, a clear enunciation and graceful gestures indicate anything Master Bartlett richly deserves the credit accorded to him, for it is rarely that we see one of his years so well trained in every particular which goes to make up a fine reader.

Norman was only a little over seventeen years of age at this time, and ambitious to develop his histrionic ability still further he left the high school the following fall to enter the Monroe College of Oratory of Boston, since renamed the Emerson college. Here he fortunately met Mr. Leland T. Powers, the well-known impersonator, and a strong mutual friendship immediately began which lasted through life. He commenced taking lessons in impersonation, entering into the training with his characteristic enthusiasm and industry. His mother and himself taking rooms in Mr. Powers' house, the couple passed perhaps the happiest period of their lives while he was under instruction at this college; he with the great love for his work absorbing his mind and strength, she happy in the knowledge that he was making such rapid and marked advance in his work.

The summer of 1889 found the young reader again following the course of his former successes, preceding his season in the Adirondacks by a similar program in the White mountains, as usual visiting the leading hotels and places of summer resort, with the confidence won by his previous triumphs in this direction.

Still a boy in years, and of medium size, with a frank, ingenuous countenance, and a quiet, retiring manner of deportment, his appearance was hailed everywhere with hearty sympathy and praise. It is related that upon arriving at one of the large summer hotels, The Uplands, under the escort of the Kev. Charles J. Chase, with whom he was making his home for the time, and who had been instrumental in obtaining for him this opportunity, they were met by the proprietor, who soon proved somewhat taken aback by the youthful appearance of this person expected to entertain his guests, whom he knew could be pleased only by high-elass talent. Improving the first opportunity, he called his friend aside to ask anxiously whether he had not made a mistake in thinking so young a person could meet the expectations of his people. "It is not too late,'' he said, ''to cancel the affair upon some excuse, and in that way get out of the dilemma.*'