Complete Works of Ambrose Bierce (Delphi Classics)

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Complete Works of Ambrose Bierce (Delphi Classics) Page 338

by Ambrose Bierce


  One of Austin Bearse’s sons, whose name was James, moved from Pembroke, Massachusetts, to Connecticut, in 1739, and settled on the road east of Burnham Place, afterwards known as Cornwall Bridge. James’ name appears in the old records and documents of the period as “Bierce” and it is probable that he was the first of the family to adopt this spelling. It seems to have been definitely adopted by all his descendants. Cornwall, in Litchfield County, was the center of this branch of the family for many years and some members of the family still reside there. The old Revolutionary War records contain numerous references to Bierces in the Connecticut regiments, and James (the younger), William, Ezekiel, Nathan and Stephen were prominently figured in the local annals of Connecticut’s participation in the War of Independence.

  The lineage of Ambrose Bierce may be traced directly back to Austin Bearse, the succession running: Austin, James, Shubael, Hezekiah, William, Marcus Aurelius. William Bierce was the son of Hezekiah Bierce and Deborah Sturtevant. He was born at Halifax, Massachusetts, March 26, 1753, and married Abigail Bell. The records show that he belonged to Col. Herman Swift’s regiment of Connecticut troups during the Revolutionary War, and Henry Newell Bierce has in his possession a powder horn on which is carved the following inscription: “William Bierce’s horn, made at Ticonderoga, April 27, I775.” The soldierly tradition in the family was unbroken for three generations and it is interesting to note that William was an orderly sergeant at Ticonderoga, and fought in the battles of Monmouth, White Plains, and Fort George. During the dreary winter spent at Valley Forge, every officer in his company higher than himself was either killed or died of starvation or disease, leaving him in command. It is said that during his years in the service, William clothed himself and laid by all his pay, including the amount paid him for clothing, so that he might have a competence to start life anew when the war was over. But, with the inevitable disillusion that came après le guerre, he found that he had nothing but a considerable pile of worthless Continental bills. He finally gave these bills to his children for playthings and forgot the frugality of seven years of soldiering. This circumstance probably tinged the minds of both William and his son, Lucius Verus, on the subject of paper money. It was always a red flag to General Lucius Bierce, and he never lost an opportunity to flay its advocates. He once remarked, with characteristic Biercian terseness, “If we must have monied incorporations to control the currency, and regulate the exchanges of the country, let us have a United States Bank. For my part, I had rather be swallowed by a whale than nibbled to death by minnows.” However, it should be noted that William did receive some compensation for his services, for along with his honorable discharge he was given a hundred acres of land in Muskingum, Ohio, which he later sold for two dollars an acre.

  William Bierce had quite a large family. His children were: Lucretia, Hanna Bell, Columbus, William Whiting, Lucinda, and the two favorites, Lucius Verus and Marcus Aurelius. These two sons were born in Cornwall, Marcus Aurelius on August 16, 1799, and Lucius Verus on August 4, 1801. They were the bright particular stars of the family and were, moreover, inseparable companions. Where one went, the other followed. They were of nearly the same age and both seemed to have possessed a flair for the grand manner, particularly Lucius Verus, who was destined to be referred to as “illustrious” from early manhood. His life was a succession of orations, presentation speeches, and memorial odes. Marcus Aurelius was of a more somber disposition and lacked the verve of his younger brother. Both received a rather good education, for those times, at Litchfield, but they were not destined to follow in the same lines of quiet activity that characterized the lives of their brothers and sisters, and in this they foreshadowed the parallel situation of Ambrose and Albert.

  Even before finishing his rudimentary schooling, Lucius Versus had his eyes trained on the broad horizon of the West. This was but natural. His father owned land out in Ohio. Moreover, Connecticut at that time was making rather pretentious claims to all the lands, parallel with its boundaries, to the west. This far outpost of Litchfield was called the Western Reserve and Connecticut’s more adventuresome sons were looking to it as their future home. When Lucius Verus was only fifteen years of age, he journeyed west to Nelson, Portage County, Ohio. Marcus Aurelius remained at Cornwall until he could receive news of his brother’s fortune, particularly as he had married Laura Sherwood. (Feb. 26, 1822.) But it was not long until he, too, was en route for the Western Reserve.

  Lucius, however, lost no time in going west and in becoming a famous character. He decided to go to Ohio University, and arrived at Athens ill and possessed of only one-fifth of a quarter of a dollar (this was during the “cut” money days). He prepared for the University by studying under the Rev. Jacob Lindley, President of Ohio University for many years, and he soon matriculated, and by 1822 had received his degree. He then decided to seek his fortune in the South, and persuaded the Hon. Amos Crippen, a prominent citizen of Athens, to loan him the money for his journey. He went south to Yorkville, South Carolina, and then to Lancaster, where he studied law in the offices of Robert J. Renill, and later, in Alabama, with Dr. Sterne Houghton, being admitted to practice in 1823.

  He soon returned to Ohio and entered the practice of the law at Ravenna, in Portage County. He had only been admitted to the bar a year when he was elected district attorney, an office which he held for eleven years, resigning at the end of that period to move to Akron. There he quickly became the town’s “leading citizen” and remained such until his death. His activities were so numerous and varied that it is difficult to summarize them, but a few of his exploits will be mentioned because of the important influence he was to exercise on his nephew, Ambrose Bierce.

  In 1837 the “Patriot War,” so-called, was organized by a firebrand whose name was William McKenzie. It was a movement intended to free the Canadians from the despotic government headed by Sir John Colburn. McKenzie soon counted among his most ardent supporters, Lucius Verus Bierce of Akron. With Colonel Von Schultz, a Polish officer, who was a refugee in America and along with some three hundred veterans who had been ordered from their country for participation in a revolution, Bierce organized the “Grand Eagles,” a secret society designed to give McKenzie military support in his movement.

  While the work of organization was being perfected, the British struck Col. Von Schultz and his force at Detroit. The little band of liberators was annihilated and Von Schultz met death on the scaffold. Bierce, who was now “General,” hastened to the assembled refugees at Swan Creek and told the remnant of the army that the fate of Canadian liberty depended on them. Would they disband, after this reversal by the tyrant, or would they fight on to the bitter end? One can imagine that the oration was accompanied with appropriate gestures. The appeal, however, was not an unqualified success, for all but 180 of the liberators fled to their homes. With the remaining “army,” General Bierce left Detroit for Windsor, captured the town, and burned the barracks. Just as the revolution was getting into full swing, Col. John Prince arrived with a company of British regulars and decimated the “Grand Eagles” with a few rounds of musket fire. Most of the remaining rebels were killed, many of them being stood against a wall at Windsor and shot down, and only about thirty escaped. Among this group was “General” Bierce. His troubles were not yet at an end, for on returning to Ohio he was called before the United States Court at Columbus to answer for a violation of the Neutrality Law of 1818. But Judge McLean was virtually forced to direct the grand jury not to bring in a free bill, so great was the popular sentiment in favor of General Bierce. The authorities, however, summoned him again before the court, but between that date and the day of the hearing an old friend of Bierce’s was appointed by Van Buren as district attorney, and through his agency the matter was dismissed. The General was, of course, a great popular hero in Ohio. He later organized the “Bierce Cadets” and was, for several years, Grand Master of the Masonic Lodge in Ohio.

  When the Mexican War broke out, the General volunteer
ed for service, but his company disbanded soon after its organization, as the government did not desire further troops after the first call. He then devoted himself to public works, being on the board of education and mayor of Akron. Among his literary “masterpieces” was the composition of an ode which he read on the occasion when he presented a sword, which he had captured from a Britisher during the Patriot War, to Buchtel College. The grandiloquent lines of this ode were only slightly more rhetorical than his nephew’s “Invocation.” To have heard the General declaim these lines must have been a memorable experience:

  THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR

  The sun had set on Erie’s wave,

  The snow-clad hills on which the brave

  Reposed, were silent as the grave,

  Or Soldiers’ Sepulchre.

  No martial sound, nor busy hum,

  No clarion clang, nor rattling-drum,

  Gave signal that the time had come

  For daring feats of chivalry.

  The soldier took his hasty meal,

  Then fixed the deadly burnished steel,

  Which soon the tyrant’s fate would seal,

  When joined in war’s dread revelry.

  The Patriot band was soon arrayed,

  Their hearts beat high, but none dismayed,

  As each one drew his battle blade

  And shouted “Death or victory!”

  Then foe to foe, in contest view;

  Fierce flashed the fire, the rockets flew

  And death was revelling ‘mid the few

  Who bared their breast courageously.

  The Patriot cry of deadly war

  “Remember Prescott!” sounds afar,

  And lurid flames and crashing jar,

  Push on the dreadful tragedy.

  The warrior foe in contest slain,

  The wounded strewed upon the plain,

  Make fuel for the burning claim

  Of Barracks burning rapidly.

  Now fiercer grew the dreadful fight,

  Now fiercer rose the lurid light,

  And shouts, and groans, as morning light

  Appeared, were mingled horribly.

  Ah, dreadful sight! as morn arose,

  The mingled corpse of friends and foes,

  Bestrewed the ground amid the snows

  That formed their only sepulchre.

  Among the General’s other literary efforts were “An Epitome of the History of the Western Reserve from 1862 to the Formation of the State Constitution in 1802,” written expressly for the Akron Daily and Semi-Weekly Argus; “Home Reminiscences for the Portage County Democrat,” including data about the towns of “Atwater, Aurora, Deerfield, Freedom, Hiram, Mantua, Palmyra, Randolph.” This material, published in the newspapers, was designed as a history of the Western Reserve, but was never compiled in book form. Among the numerous addresses of the General, the following were printed as pamphlets: “Centennial Historical Address delivered at Ravenna, Portage County”; and an address delivered before the Historical Society of Tallmadge, Ohio, Oct. 6, 1868, published by Fairbank, Benedict & Company in 1872 at Cleveland.

  But during this period when Lucius Verus Bierce was entertaining his fellow citizens with fine orations and presentation speeches, Marcus Aurelius was lost in obscurity. It is difficult to trace his movements. It seems that he first came to Meiggs County, and located at a settlement of emigrants known as Horse Cave. There was never a town in Ohio by this name and none exists to-day. “Horse Cave” was simply the name of a settlement of very religious and pious emigrants from Connecticut, and got its name from the fact that the settlement was located on the “Horse Cave” stream, which is a tributary of Shade River, and has three branches — Gilmore Fork, Aumiller Fork and the main branch. The Horse Cave settlement, so-called, was about eight miles from the mouth of the stream, and it was here that Marcus Aurelius settled, and it was here, on the site of many a revivalist meeting, where prayers for the riddance of demon spirits made the nights vociferous, that Ambrose Bierce was born, on June 24, 1842. It was a strange circumstance that out of this settlement of the pious should come the scourge of piety, the arch-enemy of reverence and the author of a devil’s dictionary.

  Marcus Aurelius, following the herculean example set by his father, had a large family of children. Possessed of the same fondness for alliteration that graced his brother’s orations, and, incidentally, not without a modicum of wit, he gave his children names the first letter of which began with “A.” They were named: Abigail Bell, Amelia Josephine, Ann Maria, Addison Byron, Aurelius, Almeda Sophia, Albert Sherwood, Augustus, and Ambrose Gwinett. Marcus Aurelius, with his innumerable brood of children, moved from place to place in an effort to find a community so fertile that labor would be superfluous. They went from Meiggs County to a farm near Circleville, Ohio, where they lived for several years, and then finally drifted to Indiana, where they lived, first at Warsaw, and later at Elkhart. Marcus Aurelius died in 1876, and was buried at Elkhart.

  It is apparent from even a casual examination of the history of the Western Reserve that its community life, particularly around Tallmadge and Akron, was intensely religious. To read such a volume as “Life in the Western Reserve” with its reiterated emphasis on missionary work and experience in salvation, would alone sufficiently indicate the evangelical tone of the community. To fortify this premise, one need only look at the harsh-featured faces, outlined in the old daguerreotypes, to know the character of the people who chanted their catechisms with the same high seriousness that they broke the soil. Little need be said of the early colonies at Pembroke and Cornwall. They were outposts of puritanism, and it was probably of some of his own ancestors that Ambrose Bierce wrote the lines:

  “My country, ‘tis of thee,

  Sweet land of felony,

  Of thee I sing;

  Land where my fathers fried

  Young witches and applied

  Whips to the Quaker’s hide,

  And made him spring.”

  The Western Reserve was merely a replica of Connecticut. Its favorite university was modeled after Yale and its theology was that of the Connecticut divines. Not only was General Bierce typical of the military daring of his family, and its ardent espousal of the cause of popular liberty, but he was also representative of its deep religious convictions. The General would often cease his deliverance of patriotic orations long enough to drop a tear or two, and an hour of rhetoric, anent a fallen drunkard. In March of 1848, early in his forensic career, he delivered two orations at Akron over the remains of a drunkard, Peach, who was frozen to death on the banks of a canal. Another victim of demon rum who was also the victim of General Bierce’s flowery periods was a wretch by the name of Horace Darby, who died (God rot the thought!) of delirium tremens at Akron. Both of these discourses are in the archives of the Western Reserve Historical Society, and they would have furnished Ambrose great reading in the days when he lived within a hundred yards of the Graystone Winery at St. Helena, California, where the enormous vats were always redolent of that which the Crime Commission has now decreed is unfit for man to drink. Poor Bierce! his satire and wit, and taste for good Napa County wines, were forgotten with his disappearance, and the shadowy outline of General Bierce’s ghost must bow with approval when modern statesmen echo his words delivered over the bodies of Peach and Darby.

  Ambrose Bierce’s first experiences were those of a boy on a Middle Western farm. He was on more intimate terms with his brother Albert than with any of his other brothers and sisters. He seems to have shown no feeling for the other members of his family, and to have made no pretense whatever of keeping in communication with them after leaving home. Consequently, very little is known of the other brothers and sisters. “Gus,” or “Dime” as he was called, stayed on the farm at Elkhart. One sister died in far-away Africa, where she was a missionary. The cause of her death is unknown, but it is altogether likely that some one may have given her a copy of “Fantastic Fables.” Addison, another brother, was a verita
ble colossus. He could perform great muscular feats, and was the “strong man” in a circus for some time. Albert alone was a congenial companion for Ambrose. They were inseparable during their boyhood and always entertained a genuine affection for each other, although in later years they quarreled.

  Both Albert and Ambrose rather resented the religious atmosphere in which they were reared, and two more confirmed agnostics never came out of Indiana. Albert used to tell a story about how he and his brother took an old white horse down to the edge of a camp ground where a revival meeting was in process of generating considerable spiritual steam. They wrapped the old horse in straw, set it afire, and headed the blazing animal in the direction of the seekers for salvation. Perhaps this was the singular “white horse” apparition that Bierce wrote about and that Flora MacDonald Shearer made the subject of a poem in “The Legend of Aulus.”

  Bierce was troubled in early life by fantasies, or apparitions, that passed darkly across his dreams. Some of them dated from childhood. One in particular that haunted his memory had the following setting: it was night; he was traveling in darkness through a fire-swept region. Pools of water occupied shallow depressions, as if the fire had been followed by rain. Dark clouds passed and revealed stars glittering in the sky. A crimson light burned in the West, which reminded him in later years of one of Doré’s paintings. As he approached this light, battlements loomed up on the horizon. Within this monstrous building, desertion reigned. Wandering around the building, he finally came to a large room where the same phantasmagorical light was gleaming. He sensed eternity in the light and tried to express the feeling later in the lines:

 

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