1924 Election: Marietta Native Charles G. Dawes Elected Vice President of the United States

Turned off by the spiteful rhetoric in today’s political discourse? Stressed by the twenty-four hour news cycle and social media rancor? Go back to the 1924 presidential campaign. A Marietta native, Charles Gates Dawes, was the running mate of Calvin Coolidge on the Republican ticket. Dawes is the serious-looking one on the right in the photo. He grew up on Fourth St. in Marietta, the son of General Rufus Dawes and Mary Gates Dawes, and a descendent of William Dawes who rode with Paul Revere to warn colonists that “the British are coming.”

1924 Campaign Poster viewed at fineartmerica.com. Coolidge is on the left; Dawes on the right.

1924: It was the roaring twenties. The economy was strong; there were no foreign policy crises. There were also no computers, cell phones, or television. Radio would soon become a boom industry. Locally, farming, brick making, furniture manufacturing, and the oil industry thrived. Trolleys ran regular routes up and down the valleys. Shoppers packed the downtown area on weekends. Life was good; but it always seems that way when we look back in time.

Talk about qualifications for high public office: Charles G. Dawes was a graduate of Marietta College (what other qualification would you need?) and Cincinnati Law School, an executive with utility companies in Chicago, started a bank in Chicago, appointed Comptroller of the Currency, served in the U. S. Army during World War I in leadership roles for logistics and attaining the rank of Brigadier General, and was budget director for President Warren G. Harding. All of this was intermingled with political activity, including an unsuccessful Senate run, mostly in campaign support for others. He was a co-recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1925 for his role in helping plan the financing of Germany’s World War I reparation debt.

A young Charles G. Dawes, around the time of his appointment at age 33 as Comptroller of the Currency in 1898. From OCC.gov.

Dawes and his wife endured the loss of their son Rufus at age 21 in a drowning accident. In his son’s memory, Dawes built homeless shelters in Boston and Chicago and financed a dormitory building at his son’s Alma mater Lawrenceville School in Lawrenceville, NJ.

The 1924 campaign had little of today’s harsh rhetoric, though the Democratic Convention required over 100 ballots to finally select West Virginian John W. Davis for President and Charles W. Bryan for Vice President. Calvin Coolidge was a shoo-in for the Republicans, having been elevated to the Presidency in 1923 when Warren G. Harding died in office. The Coolidge-Dawes ticket won by a landslide.

Though Dawes seemed well qualified for office, his actual performance in office was an embarrassment. He was bluntly outspoken on many issues, often inviting negative publicity - not the desired profile of a Vice President. One writer observed: “Dawes was criticized by many of Coolidge’s opponents and was also resented by many of the President’s allies.” 

Caricature of Charles Dawes with his strange looking “underslung” pipe.

In March, 1925, he missed a critical tie-breaking vote on a cabinet confirmation in the Senate, causing defeat of a Coolidge cabinet nominee. Dawes had been told his presence would not be needed that day; Republicans were sure they enough votes for confirmation. So, instead of being at the Senate, he was napping at the Willard Hotel. 

Meanwhile, a political crisis was unfolding. The surplus of votes dissipated for the Attorney General nominee Charles Warren. It would be a close vote; the Vice President’s vote might be needed to break a tie. But he wasn’t there. Urgent calls went out to Dawes at the hotel. He sprang out of bed and bolted, not fully dressed, out on to the street with arms flailing to hail a cab - like an ordinary citizen. There were no limos or secret service protections then. The taxi (perhaps a 1924 Checker Model E) plodded to Capitol Hill. A disheveled Charles Dawes burst into the Senate chamber, panting and sweating. But it was too late. Warren’s nomination was defeated. President Coolidge was livid.

Republican leaders publicly blamed themselves for telling Dawes he didn’t need to be there. Dawes was nonetheless pilloried in the press for being asleep when duty called. He became a laughing stock of Washington. The Willard Hotel put up a sign: “Dawes slept here.” Writers even invoked Dawes’ ancestor William Dawes’ who rode with Paul Revere. Longfellow’s poem “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere” was parodied as “The Midday Ride of Charles Dawes.” He was mocked and held in low regard by the press - despite his impressive public service record. 

Dawes was predictably passed over as Herbert Hoover’s running mate in 1928. Hoover appointed him as ambassador to Great Britain, a very prestigious assignment.

Charles G. Dawes was not only a successful businessman and dedicated public servant - he was also a talented musician.Dawes was a pianist, flutist, and composer. His composition Melody in A Major became well-known piano and violin piece in 1912. Later, lyrics were added, transforming it to the popular tune “It’s All in the Game,” which became a No. 1 Billboard hit.

The Dawes family left us with many remarkable people. Charles Gates Dawes was one of those.

Catherine Fay Ewing, Children’s Home Pioneer

The hill behind the former Children’s Home complex in Marietta offers a serene view of the area. Breezes rustle the leaves of giant oak trees towering over the site. A mowed clearing with a chain link fence seems out of place. A plaque identifies the site as a burial ground for children who died while residents of the Home.

 It is a poignant reminder of the Children’s Home’s  (Children Services today) role in providing good homes for neglected, abused, or orphaned kids. A courageous local woman started the Washington County Children’s Home - on her own -  and helped pioneer the Children’s Home concept in Ohio and beyond. 

Catherine Fay Ewing from Marietta College Special Collections

Catharine Fay Ewing (1822 -1897) attended the Marietta Female Seminary, and became a missionary among the Choctaw Indians in the west. The work was stressful, though her faith sustained her. Alcoholism and domestic violence were rampant. While there, an adopted two-year-old girl died when she was thrown down the stairs during a drunken argument. That event was a powerful motivation for Catherine. She said, “…the desire and purpose had arisen in my heart to have a home where I might care for such orphaned and homeless children. After this every effort was directed toward that object….” She returned to Marietta.

 

As a single female, Catherine would be challenged to change prevailing attitudes in male dominated institutions. She would not be denied. With savings and a modest inheritance, she purchased land in remote Lawrence Township near Moss Run. A two room cottage would become the first “Children’s Home.” Next she needed to find the children who needed protection and get authority to care for them.

 

Orphans then were housed in the Washington County (Ohio) Infirmary alongside drunks, the mentally ill, and indigent people. There were 26 children there. She approached the infirmary trustees. They were surprised to hear from this unknown woman with a utopian proposal. She recalled matter-of-factly, “I…got their consent to give me the children at $1 a week. They agreed to provide (some) clothing, and pay one half the doctor's bills, …” On April 1, 1858, Catherine Fay Ewing took in 8 children under 10 years of age, including four infants. It was difficult, but “the Lord provided wonderfully for us.” Soon she was caring for over 20 kids.

Image of first Children’s Home, attributed to Washington County Ohio Historical Society

 

Her efforts were applauded by many. But others, especially her neighbors, were suspicious and hostile. Some thought she was in it for the money. Others did not want the home’s presumed misfits mingling with their kids. They wanted her out. “There were threats and vandalism. Our gates would be opened at night, and hogs and cattle let in upon our garden and fields. Our chickens were often killed. Once when I went away to take one of the children to a home, I found when I came back that all but eight of our 60 chickens were dead.” Undaunted, she stayed. Other neighbors offered support. 

 

August of 1860 was a low point. Diphtheria struck. Catherine was sick first; barely able to move. Her hired girls left, and no one else would work, fearing contagion. One night several children were sick; Catherine knew one was near death. She sent one of the boys to a neighbor’s house asking for help. The neighbor refused, saying it was Catherine’s job and “she should do it.” Catherine was despondent and started sobbing. One of the older boys hugged her and said, “God can take care of us.” Indeed He did; soon Dr. Beckwith and his wife appeared to assist them. 

 

Catherine’s Children’s Home survived and thrived. Due to hers and local officials’ efforts, the Ohio legislature passed a law in 1866 allowing for the public support of homes for orphaned children in Ohio, the first legislation of its kind in the United States. A new Washington County Children’s Home was completed. In 1867, 33 children from Catherine’s home were transferred there. 

It was Catherine Fay Ewing’s faith, dedication and sacrifice that paved the way for much improved care for children.

 

  

Captain Mary B. Greene, Pioneering River Lady

History often overlooked women in early America. There were many notable women in our area. This is one such profile. 

Steamboating was a male dominated vocation in the late 1800’s.  There were no licensed female captains on the Ohio or Mississippi Rivers. Then Mary Becker Greene came along and earned those licenses before age 29. She became an iconic figure in the riverboat industry. 

Mary Catherine Becker Greene was born in 1868 along the Muskingum River near Marietta, Ohio. The river, with its constant changes, meanderings, and bustling commerce was an early draw for her. She recalled river trips to Marietta and back in a johnboat loaded with produce. She did her share of rowing. One day she met a deckhand on a Muskingum River steamboat. His name was Gordon C. Greene, a descendent of the Greene family that founded Newport, Ohio. 

In 1890 she married Gordon; they set up “house” on his steamboat H. K. BEDFORD. According to her, “When you marry a riverman, you marry the river too. That’s the code of steamboatin’.” Few women then worked outside the home. Mary both lived and worked in the home - on their steamboats. 

Image of H K Bedford steamboat with images of Gordon (L), clerk H. E. Bevan (C), Mary (R), scanned from image at Ohio River Museum, viewed at Weelunk.com. CLICK TO ENLARGE

Mary’s accomplishments were many: 

• Only female licensed steamboat pilot and master (captain) on the Ohio River, active for 60 years until the day she died,
• Astute business person as co-owner of the Greene Line of riverboats,
• Only female member and officer of the American Association of Masters and Pilots, 
• Honorary President of riverboat history group Sons and Daughters of Pioneer Rivermen, 
• Raised three sons while living on board riverboats, 
• Elected to National Rivers Hall of Fame, 
• Iconic river personality who was often interviewed,
• Named in Ripley’s Believe It or Not!

Mary was smart and determined. She learned hundreds of details about the Ohio River needed to get a pilot’s license. At only 5 feet tall, she could barely see over the pilot wheel, let alone wrestle that heavy wheel to steer. But she did it, when necessary standing on the wheel using her body weight to move it. Mary earned respect from the all-male crews and boat operators of that time.

 Mary at pilot wheel. From Delta Queen Company, viewed at allthingscruise.com

Mary was proactive, always making things happen. She stepped up to command the steamboat ARGAND to make it profitable, hosted an excursion trip (then an experimental concept in steamboat travel) in 1904 to the St. Louis World’s Fair, kept the Greene Lines company going after the sudden death of her husband Gordon in 1927, and doted endlessly on passengers.

She was a whiz at customer service, before that was a thing in business. People were attracted to “her” Greene Line boats by the good food, cleanliness, comfort, and fun. There was no drinking or gambling on her boats, creating a family-friendly setting. Mary said in an interview, “People are learning that a river trip is a fine way to spend a vacation.”

Besides navigating the river, there were difficult periods in her life to navigate. Their three children were born and mostly raised on riverboats. This was demanding and stressful. She made it work until Henry, the oldest child, died in 1907 at age 9. Grief and conflicting feelings swept over her. Probably for the first time in her life, she was forced to stop and reassess. Mary soon realized that her first priority should be her two sons. Months later she quit the river and set up the family home in Hyde Park, Cincinnati. “Being at home I can give my two boys the attention they require. On the river I couldn’t.” She eventually returned to the river as the boys grew up. 

Captain Mary B. Greene and husband Gordon, circa 1917. Photo from the collection of the 

late Frederick J. McCabe, viewed at weelunk.com.

Gordon C. Greene, Mary’s husband, died suddenly of a heart attack in 1927. Gordon had told a friend, “When I die, I want to go home on that boat ,“ referring to the TOM GREENE, his favorite boat.  It was in dry dock for repairs at the time. Crew and family worked tirelessly to ready the TOM GREENE to fulfill Gordon’s wish. Mary was with Gordon’s casket as it arrived for burial at the Greene family home in Newport, Ohio.  She with her two sons Tom and Chris continued the business, astutely guiding the company through the Great Depression and World War II.

In 1946, Greene Line Steamers acquired what became their most well known vessel, the elegant DELTA QUEEN. Mary made her home on board, serving as hostess, visiting and socializing daily. Months later in April, 1949, she passed away in her stateroom, at age 81. Only two days earlier she was dancing the Virginia Reel with passengers.  Mary Becker Greene was laid to rest in Newport, Ohio with her husband Gordon, ending a full life of leadership, dedication, and service to others. River historian Frederick Way, Jr. referred to her as …”one of the seven wonders of the river.” 

DELTA QUEEN, from steamboats.org

Forward Cabin Lounge on DELTA QUEEN viewed at deltaqueen.com

Mary may have left this earth in 1949, but her presence on the DELTA QUEEN remained. There have been numerous paranormal, ghost sightings, and odd events tied to Mary since she “left” the boat. One  event happened shortly after her death. Mary strictly opposed sale of alcohol on Greene Line boats. Her son Tom - after much soul-searching, no doubt - installed a bar on board. Days later a small towboat collided with the DELTA QUEEN on the side where the bar was located. The crew was surprised to discover the towboat was named…..CAPTAIN MARY B. Surely this could not be a coincidence, observers noted.

Numerous other “sightings” of Mary were reported over the years. An entertainer reported seeing an elderly lady walking in front of her, who when they rounded a corner “wasn’t there anymore.” 

One man reported that his parents had been moved to DELTA QUEEN cabin 109 due to a water leak. That cabin had been Mary’s. The parents were tormented by noises - the sound of furniture being moved and rattling chains. Balls of light shined in their faces. The closet door opened and closed. Crew members explained that unusual happenings were common in Mary’s former room. One night, aggravated by the activity and lack of sleep, his mother yelled SHUT UP! Noises stopped, and they enjoyed a peaceful night. 

Mary’s presence, whether through the paranormal, her words, or her many accomplishments, remains with us in many ways. 

Sources :

Abbott, Taylor, “Mary B. Greene: The Ohio River’s Leading Lady,” Part 1 and 2, weelunk.com

Barnes, Russ, “Delta Queen Stories,” steamboats.com

“Captain Mary Becker Greene,” The National Mississippi River Museum and Aquarium, 

rivermuseum.org

Espy, G. Andrew, “Mary Becker Greene and the Greene Line,” an interview with Mary B. Greene edited by R. Dale Flick, on steamboats.org

“Greene Line Steamboats,” cincinnativiews.net

Johnson, Phillip, “Remembering Capt. Mary Greene,” steamboats.org

Lamkin, Virginia, “Delta Queen: The Ghost of “Ma” Greene,” seeksghosts.blogspot.com

“Mary Becker Greene,” sites.rootsweb.com

“Mary Becker Greene,” wikipedia

Newspapers.com, numerous articles about Mary Becker Greene

Spilman, Rick, “Is Captain Mary Becker Greene Still Watching Out for the Delta Queen?”, The Old Salt Blog

Life with Joseph at Fort Harmar

Joseph Buell, Marietta pioneer, future General of the Militia, businessman, and legislator, had a rough start at Fort Harmar: He was court-martialed. He sold liquor “without permission” when he traded a pint of liquor to buy some catfish. Fortuntately, he was acquitted. Joseph Buell was born in Killingsley CT in 1763. He arrived as a sergeant in the First American Regiment at Fort Harmar in May, 1786. His journal gives us a view of life at the fort. Quotes are from his journal unless noted otherwise.

Fort Harmar’s creation was a team effort: Congress authorized it, General Butler picked the location, Colonel Josiah Harmar (the fort was named for him) ordered its construction, Major John Doughty designed it, and soldiers built it. The Fort was built in 1785 on the west bank of the Muskingum River at the Ohio River. It had a pentagonal shape and occupied about 3/4 acre. Congress planned to sell land in eastern Ohio to new settlers and was having the land surveyed. The soldiers’ mission was to protect surveyors and settlers from Indian attacks and remove squatters living on land they didn’t own.

Initial plan for Fort Harmar, CA 1785, from University of Michigan, James McHenry Collection 

CLICK TO ENLARGE

Life at Fort Harmar was not easy. Soldiers endured primitive conditions, harsh discipline, boredom, illness, food shortages, and the constant threat of Indian attacks. Yet Joseph Buell seemed to enjoy his duty. He made friends and tolerated the hardships better than most. Likewise, Ebenezer Denny observed wistfully when he stopped at a mostly deserted Fort Harmar on April 14, 1790, “(It was) a place where I had spent….. the last two years with much satisfaction.”

Drunkenness was a constant problem. Soldiers received a daily ration of a gill (“Jill” - about 4 ounces) of liquor. Imagine that today. On a sunny May Day 1786 soldiers were given extra liquor and allowed to get “damned drunk.” On July 4th there was cannon fire and “we had liberty to drink and get drunk..” During a gloomy January stretch, they kept their spirits up by pouring spirits down, “we made ourselves pretty merry….” Buell’s St. Patrick’s Day entry is amusing: “The sons of St. Patrick kept….(the) usual custom - by getting drunk & fighting & breeding a riot etc.” Two weeks later Gregg “died in a fit of drunkenness…Soldiers have got the Devil in them - a drinking.” After that soldiers were forbidden to buy liquor from others. Joseph Buell enjoyed his spirits but exercised restraint not typical of the average soldier. When his fellow sergeants became drunk and disorderly on New Year’s Day 1787, Buell reported, “I did not think it proper to join this club (and stayed) at my own quarters.”

Painting of Fort Harmar based on early sketch by Joseph Gilman CA 1790. 

CLICK TO ENLARGE

There were six desertions during that first summer at Fort Harmar; more later on. Buell delayed reporting Corporal Weed’s desertion because he was “a very good fellow” -  a friend of Buell’s - who could have been shot if caught. Alford, Dustin, Fox were allowed to go fishing one sunny day. They didn’t return. A week later they sheepishly dragged themselves back and were given 100 lashes. 

Discipline was strict. Even petty offenses warranted confinement, whippings, or worse. “French received 25 lashes for insulting a Corporal.” “Houghmier was given 25 lashes for picking up an apron in the street.” “Brady was whipped 100 lashes for taking a coat out his serg’ts room.” Deserters could be shot on the spot without a trial. Major John Wyllys did just that, killing three deserters at Fort McIntosh. He was arrested at Fort Harmar for those killings but was exonerated and returned to the Fort. Shockley deserted and when apprehended was ordered to “run the gauntlet” 11 times. Running the gauntlet required the perpetrator to run or walk  through two rows of soldiers who struck the person with sticks, whips, or other weapons. It was a severe penalty, but at least he was still alive.

Disease took a toll. Engeham died in May; “the first due to sickness.” A month later Bamerd died.  When a death occurred all soldiers in the Fort marched with the coffin to the burial place led by an honor guard with fife and drums. Music was somber marching to the burial site, but returning they played a “jolly tune.” Question for further research: where was the burial ground for Fort Harmar?

Period drawing of Fort Harmar by Joseph Gilman CA 1790, courtesy Marietta College. 

CLICK TO ENLARGE

Accompanying surveyors was rough and dangerous duty. One company from the Fort returned from a surveying trip in November; “they had a tedious cold time of it. Some were without shoes and their feet badly frozen.”  

In June of 1789, seven soldiers accompanied John Mathews and James Backus on a surveying trip. Weather was hot; swarms of gnats and mosquitoes pestered them. Backus’s journal of the trip reported “bad hills,” storms, heavy rain, a balky compass - “plagued my soul out.” By July, Mathews’ group noticed signs of Indians. They saw moccasin tracks. Horses disappeared. Sentries were posted all through the nights. One morning well past sunrise, the group relaxed around a camp fire thinking the Indian threat had passed. They were not fully dressed. Suddenly shots rang out. Two of the soldiers and Mathews’ trusted assistant Patchen died instantly. 

A corporal, luckily sheltered from the gunfire by a tree, ran. He hid behind a log and watched while Indians explored the camp. He was surprised as their aggressive behavior changed to amusement when they discovered a compass. They laughed and gestured as the compass point moved. John Mathews escaped by outrunning the Indians. He was only partially dressed and wore no shoes. Soon his his feet and legs were painfully bloodied. Eventually the survivors reached the Ohio River and were rescued.

Troops were also charged with removing squatters living on land they didn’t own west and north of the Ohio River. Most left peacefully. In a few cases, soldiers allowed families to harvest their crops before evicting them. Levi Munsell reported a confrontation with squatters near present day Steubenville, Ohio, in 1787.  About 30 hunters were ordered to abandon their cabins. They refused. About 100 soldiers were sent to burn them out. The hunters lined up on the river bank with rifles, appearing to resist leaving. Soldiers confronted them and told them to retrieve valuables - quickly. They complied, and soon their cabins and crops were burned.

There were periods of recreation. Buell liked working in the gardens near the fort. He went to Marietta and viewed the “curiosities of the mountains,” probably referring to the earthworks (Indian mounds). In April of 1787, the weather was “warm and pleasant;” he was grateful to be out and active. A short time later, he and “all the sergeants” visited Isaac Williams who had recently moved his family to present-day Williamstown. The group enjoyed their company and “passed the day very happy.” May Day 1788 was celebrated “in the usual custom.” He added “We live pretty peaceable and happy” other than not receiving their pay on time.

Indians were a constant preoccupation - ranging from friendly curiosity to a deadly threat. Congress had sought peace with Indians, hoping to stem violence between Indians and whites in the Ohio Valley. A treaty was negotiated and signed at Fort Harmar in January, 1789. Despite elaborate efforts and good intentions, it accomplished little.  

Some Indians stayed near the Fort, trading with soldiers and entertaining with their ceremonial dancing. Joseph Buell and Fitch were amused themselves one evening watching the Indians “carry on.” Once the Indians gave a demonstration war dance inside the Fort stockade. 

One sultry August day, Captain Heart observed Indians across the Ohio River on the Virginia side. The crack of a musket echoed in the valley. He saw an Indian shoot a soldier hunting there and saw him fall down. A armed party from the Fort rushed over. They found one man target shooting and another napping on the ground. There were no Indians. 

One Indian episode was troubling for Joseph Buell. He sent one of his cooks to Kerr’s Island to get some milk. The man did not return. Buell fretted. A search party found only the man’s hat and some Indian clothing. They heard later that he had been killed and scalped. 

A friendly Indian named Captain Lunice warned in September, 1786, that Indians planned to attack the Fort Harmar. They immediately prepared for an attack by clearing brush and crops outside the fort to eliminate a potential hiding area. Soldiers were placed on full alert daily from daybreak to an hour past sunrise. There was no attack, but soldiers were on edge for months, contributing to low morale. Buell wrote: “We are out of provisions and expect the Indians every day to attack the Fort.” 

There were women at Fort Harmar. Apparently some were wives; others were employed as maids, cooks, or nurses. Buell refers to them on two occasions as “our virtuous women.” Some may not have been so virtuous. Twice Buell reports that wives had affairs with other soldiers. One of those wives…”got the Devil in her….(and) began to abuse her husband and break all her furniture” in a rage. She also “gave some insolence to Sarg’t Preatt who confined her in the guard house.” She was ordered to leave the Fort on the next boat. 

On another occasion, two soldiers came in and began to abuse “our virtuous women.” Buell removed them by force. In May 1788, a social gathering took place at Hamilton Kerr’s place on today’s Buckley’s Island. Buell and Munsell “stayed at home” because  “(it) did not seem fit to keep company with so many of our Virtuous camp women who (were there).” Why? Buell did not say.

On April 7, 1788, Buell reports: “Gen’l Putnam arrived here at this place with 50 men, who came to settle on the other side Muskingum (River) the most of them were artificiers (skilled craftsmen). They began with great spirit & there is great prospect of its being a flourishing place in a short time.” Joseph Buell himself joined that “flourishing place” (Marietta) in 1790 to operate a tavern with his friend and fellow soldier Levi Munsell. 

Soldiers at Fort Harmar helped stabilize conditions on the Ohio Valley frontier, paving the way for a settlement of Marietta and Ohio.