Valley Girl Views: Reminiscences of Milton by J.P. Kohler

In the 1920's, Attorney James Pollock Kohler wrote a series of letters about his early years as a boy in Milton Pa. The Miltonian published them under the heading "Reminiscences of Milton by J.P; Kohler".

This letter, published On November 16 1922, refers to his knowledge of the Pollock Family.

THE POLLOCKS

It is with much apprehension that I approach the subject I have chosen for this article. A bare attempt to do justice to it is as much as I can promise, and what I here offer is simply for the purpose of giving present Miltonians a slight glimpse of the very foremost Miltonian, as I was privileged to see him at times when I was unable to understand or appreciate his real greatness and goodness; for of the "Milton boys" that went out into the big world and made good, Hon. James Pollock stands preeminently above them all.

The fact that my parents gave to me his name has been a matter of pride to me throughout my life, not that the name itself stands for anything, but that the principles behind the name and the advocacy of which principles constituted the real greatness of Governor Pollock, were, in their small way, championed by the loins from which I sprung. Not until later years could I understand what it meant to bear the name of so distinguished a citizen, but it was simply because James Pollock was, in Milton, the very epitome of the great anti slavery agitation that preceded our civil war, an agitation that stirred the heart of right minded people as much as did this great movement for independence that was finally voiced in that unparalleled declaration that rang forth from the Liberty Bell in 1776.

Born in Milton in 1810 of Scotch Presbyterian parentage we find him later at the feet of the great Kirkpatrick and still later taking class honors at that old Presbyterian school, Princeton college. Of his boyhood in Milton but little is recorded, but he was there to see the canal come through and later the Catawissa stick her nose jab town, and still later the Sunbury an Erie. Indeed he was a moving figure in the introduction of railroads into the West Branch Valley. Of course he was an all around boy who swam it and skated on the river and canal, who enjoyed the moonlight on the snow covered hills and who, like the other boys, participated in the glowing spirits of a growing town. Sitting at the table of an educated father, he was in touch with the great national questions, the scientific, economic and political discoveries of his time. He lived when the oratory and sentiment of the great Webster were household words, when Calhoun, Clay, Haynes were preparing the stage upon which Lincoln later performed the greatest acts recorded in our history. And he was a friend of Lincoln and Lincoln was a friend of his. Not at all strange that these two men, the rugged rail splitter and the neat, smooth, gentle manly doctor's son should become attached, for they were drawn together by the sympathetic bond that expressed in glowing words the economic and political truth that "this country cannot be half slave and half free."

Eminent lawyer, judge, congressman, director of the mint, collector of the port, author of "In God We Trust' stamped on our coins, we get but a side glance of the distinctions to which this Milton boy had attained in public life. But in private life the Miltonians were simply in love with James Pollock. When he came to town to speak in the political campaigns al the available space was crowded When he came as Governor or on his summer vacations, the town seemed to be on its good behavior, beacause of his presence. And when he sat in a rocker in front of his house on Front street, there seemed always a gathering of neighbors to greet and wish him well.

He was a handsome, clean cut American, not portly, not bearded, but unassuming, gentlemanly, companionable. as the great men generally are. He was elected Governor just as the anti slavery movement reached its climax; when Garrison, Phillips, Beecher, Pollock and others had brought the question to a throw down and made the North and the South feel that liberty and independence were not matters of color or territory but were vital principles inherent in the very texture of the government established by the fathers. It was great calamity that the freedom of these black men was not purchased with government funds, but it would have been a greater calamity to have continued their enslavement at any price.

One Christmas day, when I was between three and four years old, I was summoned to the home of James Pollock. I recall well the reception but was not aware of the reason. But a very kindly man took my hand and talked to me. I left his home with as large bag of assorted candies, a drum swung around my neck and most beautiful hat of the Napoleonic shape with a feather in it and a knitted silk cord for a band with two balls at the end. I walked up Broadway with these presents from the Governor himself with a pride inexpressible. Long after the drum was busted and the sticks broken or lost I would open the bureau drawer in which the beautiful hat was kepi and admire it. In later years when he visited Milton I managed to get to see him. His two sisters lived opposite a large limestone house where the market house was later and when I delivered milk to them I would run into the Governor. He always seemed interested in me and would come out on the back porch and talk to me and later ,after his first term as Director of the Mint, I saw him with his green bag in hand with Lawyer Wolfinger walking into the little old brick court house that stood in the square at Sunbury. I went into the court anxious to hear him, but other cases were ahead and I did not stay.

Still later or my summer vacations to Milton, I called on him at the mint in Philadelphia The first time he called into his office a Mr. Burman from Milton and instructed him to show me through the mint. It was some trip, but every thing was minutely explained. Once he asked me what I intended to do after I left college and I told him might take up the law or go into the ministry. He then cautioned me to stay out of politics, to have nothing whatever to do with them. I afterwards understood what it must have meant to a man like Governor Pollock to have to come in contact with "dirty' politics, the backbiting, the undercutting, the low down hatred of honesty and integrity by the hoodlums that get control of political machines and dictate party policies and betray and sell out the principles of the party for the mess of pottage that they care for only in politics. If the Governor had gotten in touch with the rottenness New York politics, as I did later, his heart would have been broken, but he only knew of politics at a time where government service was still in the hands of clean, patriotic men, who cared more for principle than spoils for efficiency than patronage and emolument. Perhaps "Abe" told him about the office holders, "that few die and none resign" when he as President was being pestered to death. Perhaps "Abe" told him too, that the bankers were giving him more trouble than the rebels, for then, as later the grafter hovered over the struggling nation, as they did of old, when it was said: "Wherever the carion is, there will the vultures be gathered together."

It has been my fortune to have heard some of America's greatest orators, like Blaine, Evarts, Ingersoll, Beecher, Bryan, Roosevelt, senators, congressmen, preachers and lecturers and I must say that as an orator Governor Pollock, in my opinion, ranked with the best. His language was clean, classic, convincing He knew his subject and how to treat it. His points and illustrations were captivating and effective. He held the crowd, and was a great asset to the Republican party for years after the war.

He had a Bible class and took up the collection in Doctor Watson's church. On all the tombstones of the members of his family in the upper cemetery will be found carved texts from the Bible. He belonged to a time and to a class that have passed away. The struggle for existence had not reached an intensive point in his day. Astor and Girard one a fur dealer and the other a merchant, were the richest men in America. The great west was just opening after Lincoln and Pollock had put their hands on the map at Council Bluffs and determined the route of the Union Pacific Railroad -and "Uncle Sam" was rich enough to give us all a farm and laborers, dissatisfied with conditions in the East could "Go West and grow up with the country," and not, as now, with over-crowded cities, monopolized lands and - natural resources, so that capital and labor engage in struggles that well ) nigh shake the very foundations of the nation. There were no "isms" in his day. Anarchy, socialism, communism were terms to be found only in the encyclopedia, but they meant nothing then. The Alleghenies had not yielded their millions to Carnegie, the oil fields of Pennsylvania their millions to Rockefeller, the anthracite coal fields their billions to Baker and Morgan. Coal was two dollars a ton, not sixteen, before the New Yorkers . cornered anthracite and began to coin the shivers of the poor. The big interests were not inserting page advertisements in metropolitan dailies to stifle criticism while the pockets of the people were being rifled. He would have cried out "from the very house tops" had such forms of slavery existed in his time. He was one of the old style who subscribed to the theological fundamentals. Of course, he knew of Baine and Voltaire, but they did not appeal to him. In his day the distinction between churchanity and Christianity had not been drawn. The steamboat, the sewing machine, the cotton gin, the telegraph were the new things of the day. "What hath God wrought" as Morse completed his wire between Washington and Baltimore, was talk of his time. The stage coach, . the canal, the packet boat, were giving way to twenty mile an hour express trains. Pittsburgh was a village., Chicago was unknown, the West an endless plain where buffalo and Indians held swap, with the mountains far in the distance. Clark had reached the Columbia, but the Mississippi was the boundary. He lived to see the development start, to see the compact territory now comprising the forty eight states, under one government. But the tremendous march of improvements since were only Jules Verne dreams to him. Yet here was much to ponder. Poverty was not walking hand in hand with national prosperity. Wealth concentration was coming, but not for his eyes. Every age has its trials and "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." The good is seldom sufficient. Were it not so dreams of betterment would end and the race degenerate with nothing to look forward to.

There should be in Milton some sort of memorial to Governor Pollock. A monument, a library, a park. Would not a "Pollock Memorial Library" be a fitting ornament for Lincoln Park? I'll be one of twenty-five to cast in a thousand towards such a memorial, or towards a hospital named for him. For he did his duty as he saw it. He was an upright legislator, executive and director, the kind that should not be forgotten, one of God's noblemen, an exemplar for all that may follow. He would jokingly caution me about the name I bore. Already his name is on the rolls at Columbia University, University of France and of Yale University.

The other Pollock, always called "Jim" enjoyed an entirely different reputation. He was loved because he was the son of the Governor. He spent his summer vacations in Milton, several months. He always arrived on the Elmira mail. He had not reached Front street before half the town knew of his arrival nor had he been in town a day before half the town knew he was there. "W. 0. W." was the signal. He yelled it and the other boys took it up until it reverberated from Chamberlins to Parleys. As though chalk rained down from heaven the side walks, the buildings, the fences, boxes, etc., contained those three mystic letters "W. O. W." The fun, the mischief, the devilment reached its 'height with the arrival of "Jim" It was as much an event as the fair. The Governor had presented the town with a hand fire engine "The Harmony" (I think) and it was housed in a brick building as large as a modern garage on the 'river bank opposite Broadway now Lincoln Park. What use was a fire engine unless you could have a fire? On the first night of Jim's vacation in his home town there was generally use for this gift of his father. Some old shack, abandoned building or tumble down stable up some dark alley would answer. Every night the town was on the qui vive for something startling.

Jim Pollock was a clean, freckle faced boy. Though he was some years older I was generally a member of his "gang", It was sufficient excuse for any Milton boy if he came home too late to bring in the firewood ,or coal to say that he was out skylarking with Jim Pollock. To give Jim the keys of the town was one of the ways of honoring the Governor. There were two Pollock girls, "Em" and "Sarah" (I think) who came also. Milton was good enough for them. The old hone was there and the Governor's two sisters, their maiden aunts, occupied a large house. Jim enjoyed the canal. Above the upper pond the saw mill frequently kept rafts of logs in the canal until needed. They were desirable places to swim. Jim once while standing- on the logs lifted me up so that my feet rested on one of his hands. He then gave me a throw head first into the -water. I turned under the logs, got confused and dove under them to the shore. But there was not space enough between logs and the shore to let me up, I got further confused as I turned to reach the outer end of the logs. My head began to bump up against the logs and I was out of wind. It was a close call, but Jim heard my bumping head and he dove under, grabbed my feet and pulled me out. Had he been indifferent and forgotten the turn I took I would have had a tombstone at a very early age. I'm glad for the sake of the Pollocks that no catastrophe happened. Everybody liked Jim Pollock. He never swore, he had no bad habits, he was clean in mind and body and generous to a fault— a real Milton boy, full of health and life, with always a captivating smile.

I met him in later years in New York where he lived for a long while and again in Buffalo where he was freight agent of the New York Central, the president of which was related by marriage to his father. He was not old when he died. He lies in the upper cemetery with a bible text on his tombstone, and there are Miltonians, still living who remember the rollicking boy, afterwards a Princeton student, who annually turned Milton upside down, in his own peculiar ways. There is not, I dare say, an unpleasant memory of any of Governor Pollock's family (the eldest son "Heb" having been killed in the war see the tombstone) and each and all undoubtedly contributed to the moral and intellectual uplift of their native town Milton.

JAMES POLLOCK KOHLER

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