Wallace & Charles Major

The years from 1880 to 1920 are often recognized as the Golden Age of Indiana Authors. There had been well respected Hoosier authors before 1880 and certainly many literary leaders in the years after 1920, but beginning with Lew Wallace and his book Ben-Hur, there was an outpouring of best selling works by a variety of Hoosier authors that has not been equaled in almost 100 years. Names that are still familiar like James Whitcomb Riley, Booth Tarkington, Meredith Nicholson, George Ade, George McCutcheon, and Gene Stratton Porter were part of this outpouring of Hoosier talent. With his leading role in this golden age, Lew Wallace was friends to most of these authors and mentor to several of them.


There were others who burnished Indiana’s literary history during the golden age who are not as well remembered today. One of these was Charles Major. In the first decade of the twentieth century Charles Major dominated the field of American authors. Born in 1856 in Indianapolis, Major and his family moved to Shelbyville when he was 13. He attended the University of Michigan between 1872 and 1875 and became a lawyer who, like Lew Wallace, dabbled with writing on the side.

Charles Major (July 25, 1856-February 13, 1913)

Like Wallace, Charles Major did exhaustive research on his topics before putting pen to paper. His first book, When Knighthood Was In Flower was published in 1899. This novel was a historical romance set in the time of Henry VIII and became a best seller. It remained on the New York Times best seller list for almost three years, was produced as a play on Broadway in 1901, and was the subject of successful film interpretations in 1908 and 1922.

With the success of his first book, Major quit his legal career to pursue writing full time. Beyond writing historical fiction, Major enjoyed success as the author of children’s adventure stories such as The Bears of Blue River written in 1902. Many of his children’s stories written over the next decade were set in Indiana. His third book, Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall was just as successful as his first. It too spent years on the Times best seller list, went to Broadway stage and in 1924, Mary Pickford starred in the screen adaptation.

Lew Wallace had a reputation for encouraging young people. In particular, he counseled struggling authors who had met with rejection or had difficulty finding their voices. Major was aware of this reputation and had sought Wallace out. Just prior to the publication of his first book, Charles Major wrote a letter to Lew Wallace telling of the first time he had sought to meet the esteemed author Wallace. On December 28, 1898, Major wrote:

“I beg to tell you a bit of ancient history that may amuse you. Many years ago, when I was quite young, I became so enamored of your works and was so anxious to see the author of them that, after many privations, I saved enough money and went to Crawfordsville to call on you. I went, but after I got there my heart failed me, and alas! I came home and the only satisfaction I had was that I spent my money. From this incident you can judge my delight in meeting you the other day. When The Fair God first came out, you had met Dickens and Thackeray, and had they said to you the kind, generous and encouraging words you spoke to me and to Miss Marlor about me, you could not have resisted the temptation to express your delight and appreciation. . . no more than I. Therefore, may the last and least of Indiana’s authors say to the first and greatest, that he thanks you for your generous kindness and encouragement (a thing, by the way, above and beyond Dickens and Thackeray). That he hopes some day to make a trip to Crawfordsville that will not be in vain, and from his heart of hearts he wishes you the happiest of New Years.”

While Charles Major’s self assessment as the last and the least of Indiana’s authors proved incorrect, his admiration for Wallace as a kind mentor to emerging writers was on target. Beyond his role in ushering in the Golden Age of Indiana Authors with the publication of Ben-Hur, that era would have been vastly different without Lew Wallace’s interest in and encouragement of the young Hoosier men and women who followed him pen in hand.

The General Lew Wallace Study & Museum celebrates and renews belief in the power of the individual spirit to affect American history and culture.

The Mystery Statue



Lew Wallace in his Study with the bust by Randolph Rogers on the bookcase



Ben-Hur the galley slave

At least eight important sculptors (not counting the General himself) have contributed to the artistry of the General Lew Wallace Study. Inside the building, there is a bust of Wallace created by Randolph Rogers, a statue of Ben-Hur the galley slave done by George Peterson in 1888, and two plaster studies done by H. R. Saunders. These plaster studies were used by a fourth



O'Connor statue of Wallace with
foundation by Sidney Speed

important sculptor, Bohumir Kryl. Kryl was the young man who carved the four faces representing characters from Wallace’s books in the exterior limestone frieze. The largest piece of stone carving on the grounds was added about 1911 and is by Sidney Speed who carved the pedestal that supports the bronze statue of Wallace that was created by Andrew O’Connor.

Acopy of Michelangelo's "Il Pensiero"
of Lorenze de Medicid caption

 Lew Wallace felt that an ideal study or retreat needed a copy of "The Thinker." In 1885, ten years before he began work on the Study, Lew Wallace asked a friend of his to contract for a Carrara marble copy of Michelangelo's "Il Pensiero" of Lorenze de Medici. The writer, Francis Marion Crawford who was living in Italy, made arrangements for this important marble statue. Finally, there is an additional piece of sculpture on the grounds—a bust of David Wallace that was once part of a decorative frieze on the old English’s Opera House and Hotel in Indianapolis. The name of this eighth artisan who created this particular work of art is unknown.

Bust of David Wallace
from English's Opera House

While the Study grounds have at least one piece of sculpture by an artist whose name is missing, we may also have an artist with a name whose sculpture is missing! In an article in the July 11, 1907 issue of the Crawfordsville Journal, that is entitled “A Statue of Ben-Hur” Bohumir Kryl describes a statue that he created for General Wallace’s Study that has disappeared. Lew Wallace had been gone for just two years and Susan was still alive when this article was written. It opens with the sentence: “Those who have had the pleasure of a visit to the study of the late Gen. Lew Wallace will recall the statue of Ben-Hur which occupies a prominent place there, and also other busts and ornaments in stone and plaster.”

In the short article, Mr. Kryl discusses his work on the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Monument in Indianapolis and is quoted as saying: “. . . During this time I went over to Crawfordsville and worked on busts and ornaments that were placed in Gen. Lew Wallace’s studio. Some of these were figures representing characters in the “Prince of India” and in “Ben-Hur.” A statue of Ben-Hur was the largest figure I made at that time.”

The article by the local paper is very specific about the existence of this statue, Susan Wallace was still alive, and Kryl had worked at the Study barely ten years earlier, yet no historic images or other references to this statue have been found. Did this statue really exist? If so what did it look like and where did it stand on the property? Where did it go? Is it in someone’s basement? Given Bohumir Kryl’s talent, this must have been an impressive work of art that would have contributed much to the property. While mystery and intrigue add to the aura of historic sites, this is one mystery we’d love to solve so keep your eyes open when you are checking out those Saturday morning yard sales around Crawfordsville--Ben-Hur may be out there!

The General Lew Wallace Study & Museum celebrates and renews belief in the power of the individual spirit to affect American history and culture.

Carving of the Prince of India by Bohumir Kryl
based on a plaster model by H.R. Saunders

Gone to the Dogs

Sunday, May 6th saw dogs and owners alike enjoying the beautiful shady grounds of the Study. The Stroll for Strays, a fund raiser for the Animal Welfare League, started and finished the Stroll at the Study. The Study was the starting point, with the stroll following a route through the downtown and back to the Study. Multiple water stops were set up along the route, with treats given out for all dogs. Finishing at the Study, dogs were given 'doggie bags' filled with information, treats and were invited to socialize and play games on the lawn. Over 100 dogs and owners participated. From the large Newfoundland and Great Danes to the small Chihuahuas and pugs, the dogs enjoy a afternoon social in the outdoors.

History Beneath Us





Archaeologists Dr. Chris Moore from the University of Indianapolis and Anne Moore, together with U of I students and members of the public are working on uncovering the outline of Lew Wallace's reflecting pool this weekend.  Past excavations have revealed the far edge of the pool.  They are now hoping to reveal the top layer of bricks for the entire outline of the pool. 



Core sample



Dr. Moore also took a core sample from an area to the southwest of the carriage house and found evidence of a burn zone.  This could be promising for a future excavation site.  It could be left over from a historic structure or area that was present during Lew Wallace's occupation of the grounds.



Everything's blooming

Everything is blooming this spring at the Study. The magnolia trees bloomed April 13th this year, 30 days before they bloomed last year. The lilacs, redbuds and dogwood soon followed. Everything seemed to bloom at once.

The Study has been adopted by a pair of hawks, which started building a nest in February. In previous years, hawks have built nests but they remained unused. It was a wonderful addition to the grounds to realize the hawks were actually nesting! The last week in April we spotted a fuzzy head sticking up above the twigs and have been keeping our eyes on the nest ever since.

Today found that 2 mouths are being fed! The hawk will fly to a tree across the lawn and peruse the hunting grounds. While sitting at our picnic area watching the hawk, and being watched by the hawk, the hawk will fly over the 3.5 acres and return to the tree with a small rodent or bird. The hatchlings seem to have grown tremendously in just a week! We will be keeping a close eye on the nest in hopes to watch the hatchlings take flight.

Wallace, Bierce and Stanley at Shiloh

One hundred and fifty years ago in April of 1862, the Battle of Shiloh was fought in Tennessee. Considered one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War, it saw its share of men who would go down in history. Some of these men would be remembered for their valor that day and some for accomplishments later in life. Lew Wallace was one of these men. He is remembered for a number of reasons, but perhaps most famously for his writing of Ben-Hur. Wallace was not the only survivor of Shiloh who would make his mark with writing. At least two other famous authors survived Shiloh, Ambrose Bierce and Henry Morton Stanley.



Lew Wallace at work, ca. 1899

 Ambrose Bierce was an American editorialist, journalist, short story writer, fabulist, and satirist who is probably best-known for his short story "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" and his satirical lexicon The Devil's Dictionary. His vehemence as a critic, his motto "Nothing matters" and the sardonic view of human nature that infused his work all earned him the nickname “Bitter Bierce.” Bierce was born in Ohio in 1842, but grew up in Warsaw (Kosciusko County) Indiana. His parents were poor, but his mother was a descendant of William Bradford and both his mother and father were interested in literature and instilled a love of books in their son. Ambrose was one of ten children—all of whom had names beginning with the letter “A.”

Ambrose was 19 when the Civil War broke out and he quickly enlisted in the 9th Indiana Infantry Regiment. Bierce fought in a number of engagements, including Shiloh. In June of 1864, he received a head wound at the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain and spent months recovering. He returned to the field but left the military in January of 1865. In 1866, he rejoined the army for a brief stint with a former commander who was inspecting military operations out west. With this tour he ended up in San Francisco and left the army as a brevet major.

Ambrose Bierce 1866

Bierce stayed in San Francisco for several of years writing for a number of newspapers, often covering the local crime scene. From 1872 to 1875 he lived in London before returning to San Francisco in the late 1870s. He tried a number of different careers but always returned to writing and by the late 1880s, he was writing a column called “Prattle” and had become the first regular columnist and editorialist to be employed by William Randolph Hearst. He became one of the most important columnists in the West and stayed with the Hearst newspaper empire until 1906. For a time Bierce was posted in Washington, D.C. where he covered the behind the scenes activities of politicians and lobbyists, exposing deals and legislation that often embarrassed the participants.

Beyond his editorials and columns, his short stories are regarded as among the best of the 19th century. He wrote realistically of the terrible things he had seen in the war in stories such as "What I Saw of Shiloh," "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge," "The Boarded Window," "Killed at Resaca," and "Chickamauga." Beyond his Owl Creek story, Bierce is also remembered for The Devil's Dictionary. This work satirized many of the celebrities of his day including Robert Ingersoll, the agnostic who spurred Lew Wallace to rework a story on the Three Wise Men that ultimately became Ben-Hur. In The Devil’s Dictionary Bierce included his version of the Ten Commandments in which the second commandment is, "No images nor idols make/for Robert Ingersoll to break."

Bierce married and had three children, but his two sons died before him and he divorced his wife after many years of marriage. In 1913, Bierce left his home in Washington, D.C. for a tour of Civil War battlefields where he fought. He travelled on to Louisiana and Texas and some historians think he crossed the border into Mexico to join Pancho Villa’s army as an observer. It is purported that he wrote a letter on December 26, 1913 to a friend indicating that he was with Villa’s army and he would be leaving the next day for a destination unknown. He vanished and was never heard from again.

Another man who survived Shiloh went on to have success as a writer but became most famous for finding someone the world thought had vanished! Henry Morton Stanley became one of the most quoted men of the 19th century when he asked: “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?” Henry Morton Stanley was born in Wales. His parents were likely unmarried and his father, believed to be a man named Rowlands, died within days of his birth. He lived with his grandfather for several years until the grandfather died. After passing through the homes of a few relatives, young Stanley ended up in a workhouse for the poor. He stayed in the workhouse until he was 15. For a time his mother and two brothers were also in the workhouse, but because of the family separation, he didn’t recognize them. Stanley was able to complete an elementary education and for a short time was a teacher. In 1859, at the age of 18 he sailed to America and jumped ship in New Orleans. At that point fate stepped in to change the young man’s life.

He happened upon a man named Henry Hope Stanley who was sitting in front of his store in New Orleans. The young Welshman, hoping for a job, asked Stanley if he needed any help. Stanley did need help and a close relationship developed. The store keeper was childless and he ultimately adopted young Rowlands who changed his name to Henry Morton Stanley and did his best to drop his accent and deny his ancestry.

Stanley reluctantly fought in the Civil War as a Confederate and saw action at Shiloh where he was captured. When he was released from the prison camp in June of 1862, he joined the Union Army, but was discharged 18 days later due to illness. In 1864 he joined the Union Navy where he served as a record keeper; a job that led to a free lance writing career. In February of 1865, young Stanley, who had served in the Confederate Army, the Union Army, and the Union Navy, decided to jump ship in an effort to find adventure! Stanley began a career as a journalist and quickly undertook an expedition to the Ottoman Empire. He was captured and spent time in a prison before talking his way out of jail and, not being satisfied with getting out of prison he also succeeded in getting restitution for damage to his expedition equipment!

Immediately after returning from the Middle East in 1867, Stanley was hired by Colonel Samuel Forster Tappan of the Indian Peace Commission, to serve as a correspondent to cover the work of the Commission for several newspapers. Stanley was soon retained exclusively by James Gordon Bennett, founder of the New York Herald, who was impressed by Stanley's exploits and by his direct style of writing. He became one of the Herald's overseas correspondents and, in 1869, was instructed by Bennett's son to find the Scottish missionary and explorer David Livingstone, who was known to be in Africa but had vanished. According to Stanley's account, he asked James Gordon Bennett, Jr., how much he could spend. The reply (according to Stanley) was "Draw £1,000 now, and when you have gone through that, draw another £1,000, and when that is spent, draw another £1,000, and when you have finished that, draw another £1,000, and so on — BUT FIND LIVINGSTONE!" In actuality, Stanley had lobbied his employer for several years to mount this expedition which he hoped would lead to fame and fortune.

Henry Morton Stanley 1872

In March of 1871, Stanley travelled to Africa and began an exhausting expedition through unchartered jungles. As the group of more than 200 travelled through the Congo, pack animals, porters, and associates got sick and some died. On November 10, on the shores of Lake Tanganyika, he found Livingstone and (reportedly) greeted him with the famous line. Together the two men explored more of the region. The New York Herald chronicled the expedition and upon his return, Stanley wrote a well received book about his exploits in Africa. This book did, in fact, offer Stanley some of the financial security he hoped for.

This was not Stanley’s last trip to Africa. In another financed expedition, he sought to find the source of the River Congo and follow it to the sea. This effort lasted 999 days and of the 356 people who started the trip only 114 survived with Stanley being the only European still alive at the end. This trip too was chronicled in a successful book. Stanley led other expeditions in Africa, some of them tainted by controversy. He returned to England, served in Parliament and was made a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath in 1899, in recognition of his service to the British Empire in Africa. Stanley died in 1904.

While it’s not recorded whether or not Lew Wallace, Ambrose Bierce, or Henry Stanley ever met on the battlefield at Shiloh, it is certain that the two days they spent there in April of 1862 changed their lives. Each of these men experienced war differently, but because of their service, opportunities opened up and each in his own way seized the moments and adventures they were offered. As Wallace wrote at the beginning of the Civil War: “May a man tell what he can do until he tries?”

The General Lew Wallace Study & Museum celebrates and renews belief in the power of the individual spirit to affect American history and culture.

Lew Wallace and Old John

During the Civil War, General John M. Thayer provided a description of Lew Wallace and his favorite horse, Old John.

I shall never forget the splendid picture the man and scene presented. The sun was barely rising of a cold, frosty morning. General Wallace was a princely figure, particularly in the saddle, and he rode a handsome blooded roan stallion, a single-stepper that was the pride of the division. As he came riding up, his military accoutrements flashing the red light of the rising sun, and the charger moving as though to the sound of music, he presented a sight that is not seen more than once in a lifetime.

Lew on Old John

Although Old John was a legendary horse and fondly remembered, there is much that we don’t know about him. It’s believed that Wallace purchased John from the Armantrout Farm. The Armantrouts were a family that settled about five miles south of Crawfordsville. The patriarch of the family, Frederick, served in the Revolutionary War and settled here with his son, Joseph in 1827. Joseph became one of the leading and most progressive farmers in the county. He pursued a number of ventures including the breeding of horses so it’s possible that Lew did acquire John from the Armantrouts, but we don’t know when Wallace bought the horse or how old the horse was.

During the Civil War, Lew relied on John and took great pains to provide for his horse. In his autobiography there are numerous references to John including this:

I loved this horse passionately. For five years he was my faithful, intelligent servant and friend; and in all that time there was never an hour in which I would not have gone hungry and thirsty if, by so doing, it had been possible to have saved him. He was in my mind when, long afterwards, in The Wooing of Malkatoon, I wrote these lines:

 But Othman waved them off: “Bring me my horse.
But yesterday from noon to set of sun
He kept the shadow of the flying hawk
A plaything ‘neath his music-making feet.
I will not comrade else.”
Tent born and bred,
The steed was brought, its hoofs like agate bowls,
Its breast a vast and rounded hemisphere,
With lungs to gulf a north wind at a draught.
Under its forelock, copious and soft
As tresses of a woman loosely combed,
He set a kiss, and in its nostrils breathed
An exhalation, saying, to be heard
By all around, “Antar, now art thou brute
No longer. I have given thee a soul,
Even my own.”
And as he said, it was,
And not miraculously, as the fool
Declares; for midst the other harmonies
By Allah wrought, the hero and his horse
Have always been as one.

Prior to the Battle of Fort Henry in February of 1862, Wallace wrote:

In a mood of royal expectancy, I called the servant who took care of John, my horse, the noblest of his kind. “Groom him now, and feed him well. He will have heavy work to do for me to-morrow.” And I sat till night fell watching that what I ordered was done.

As Wallace remembered his Fort Donelson experiences, John again played a featured role.

The big Heiman tent proved a welcome refuge, and, with my staff, I heaped blessings on the captain of the steamboat. While we were sounding the depths of his basket, I remembered, with a wrench of spirit, that my horse had gone since early morning without a drop of water or a bite of food. I reproached myself bitterly. It had been so easy to have dropped a bag of oats in one of the wagons! A teamster came to my help with a capful of shelled corn. Then, in place of water, the noble brute was given a long tether that he might make the most of the snow. Hard, truly!
 And from pitying the horse my sympathy went out to the men. . .

The morning of the 15th crawled up the eastern sky as a turtle in its first appearance after hibernation crawls up a steep bank. Just before it shook out its first faint signs of life, I went out to look after my horse John. Poor fellow! The blanket I had loaned him helped comfort him; but he had happed up all the snow in the circle of his tether, and that, not to speak of the appeal in his eyes, told me how he suffered for water. I had about made up my mind to take chances and have an orderly lead him back to the first running stream, when an unusual sound off to the right front of position attracted me. I listened. The sound broke at a jump into what was easily recognizable as a burst of musketry. . .

John was brought me, and I rode to Cruft and Thayer. Both were directed to have their men breakfast and stand by their arms. Cruft was told to call in his extra guard details.
 At my tent again, I borrowed a capful of corn for John, and while he was eating, the ever-handy basket surrendered its contents, and we were content to take our coffee out of the bottles cold.

Time and again, Wallace remembered sharing the burdens of war with John in the spring of 1862.

 . . . My horse objected to the dead men still lying in the road; but getting past them, the hill dipped down into a hollow of width and depth. At the left there was field; all else appeared thinly covered with scattered trees. The pickets in the hollow were maintaining a lively fusillade, so I turned into the field. I could then see the road ran off diagonally to the right. A bluff rose in front of me partially denuded, and on top of it Confederate soldiers were visible walking about and blanketed. Off to the left the bluff flattened as it went. In the direction I also saw a flag not the stars and stripes, and guessed that the fort lay in studied contraction under it. I saw, too, a little branch winding through the hollow, and thought of my poor horse, then two days without water. The men keeping the thither height caught sight of my party, and interrupted me in the study of their position. Their bullets fell all around us. One cut a lock of the mane of a horse of one of my orderlies. But I had what we came for, and got away, nobody hurt.

Upon rejoining them at the battery, the old regiments (Eighth and Eleventh) cheered me; whereat the fort opened, firing harmlessly at the sound. The Eleventh, from their stacked arms, crowded around John—“Old Balley,” they called him—and filling a capful of crumbled crackers, some of them fed him what he would eat. They would have given him drink from their canteens had there been a vessel at hand to hold the water.
 In these moves my horse had answered me readily but with his head down—a thing that had not happened before. The other horses of the company were worse off. There was need for me up on the height, but we stopped by the little brook and broke through the ice. While the poor brutes were drinking greedily, Colonel Webster came to me.

Finally, in April as the Battle of Shiloh loomed, Wallace wrote:

My last preparatory order brought John to the Landing. I went ashore to see him. The good horse might have to suffer again; but, fortunately for him as well as myself, the season of snow and boreal winds had passed.
 John, the good horse, had shared the night with me close by my sheltering tree. He was wet through and through, and like myself, more than willing to be in motion.
 “Ah, well the gallant brute I knew!”

Toward the end of the Civil War, there is a story of a horse race between General Wallace on “Old John” and General Ulysses S. Grant on his prize saddle horse “Cincinnatus.” Supposedly Lew was holding John back, and Grant realized it. He told Lew to let him run. “Old John” won the race, and Grant endeavored to buy him on the spot. Without even considering the offer from his superior, Lew replied, “not for love nor money.”

Research has not yet indicated just when John came into Lew’s life, how old he was when Wallace purchased him, and just when John died. We don’t even know when references to the horse went from “John” to “Old John.” Anecdotal stories indicate that John lived to be a very old horse and died around the turn of the twentieth century. This would have made John, very old indeed for a horse as he would have been in the neighborhood of forty years old. Again, according to legend, when John died, Lew had him buried on the grounds of the Study up near the southwest corner of the property. Visitors to the grounds as far back as the late 1920s have related that they were told by Mr. Elliott, the caretaker, that John was buried there.

One of the final references to John was recorded on January 1, 1900 by Miss Ella Kostanzer when she interviewed Wallace. Ella wrote:

I must relate an incident that was interestingly funny to me and which I think you will enjoy. In a high enclosure behind the house was “Old John” the General’s war horse, which carried him all through the Civil War. A creature of great size, power and spirit, he greatly annoyed his master by often breaking through the high fence and leaping over ordinary fences like a deer, getting into the streets and terrorizing the community. As no one but the General or his groom could get anywhere near him, it was very provoking to be compelled to throw pen and paper aside for the difficult task of capturing the old fellow. His conduct was most exasperating to the General.

Through legends and stories, John still continues to be a part of the history of the Study. It’s nice to think that when guests enter the Carriage House for a tour, the gift shop to the left was the stall that once housed the General’s pride and joy, the handsome blooded roan stallion named John.



Sources:


Erin Gobel-Researcher
Montgomery Magazine “General Lew Wallace’s Carriage House,” August 1999
Lew Wallace, Autobiography, 1906
Ella Kostanzer Interview with Lew Wallace, January 1, 1900

The General Lew Wallace Study & Museum celebrates and renews belief in the power of the individual spirit to affect American history and culture.