Monday, December 26, 2016

Taliesin, Frank Lloyd Wright, Robert Llewellyn Wright - Hamilton Chase's 1924 weekend

(This is a letter written by Hamilton Chase to his grandchildren, February 5, 1965)


To Lyle and Charles Courtsal,


Certainly as far as my vocation was concerned, your Grandfather Chase has led a mundane life in these interesting and often stirring times.  When you work for such an enormous enterprise as the Bell System, in the normal course of events, you are tucked off in a corner, given instructions on what is expected of you and encouraged not to speak unless first spoken to.  My, but this regimen is hard to take with anyone who is endowed with any spirit.  Many, in fact a great many, who are much more mice than men crawl off into their corners and live a life of contentment.


Twas not always so with Granddaddy.  In fact during the years I spent at that great liberal center of knowledge - the University of Wisconsin - I was encouraged to be a free spirit.  I cut quite a swath and enjoyed every minute of my life at Madison.  As I progressed at the University, I came to realize that my age was definitely beyond the average and that I should accelerate the pace a bit and get myself out of that glorious place and become self supporting.  Consequently in the summers of 1923 and 1924, I pursued my studies at the University and in addition enjoyed life on Lake Mendola to the full.  It was an unbeatable arrangement.  The summer climate at Madison approaches the perfect.  The University draws many interesting students from less favorable summer climes.  Among them are an unusual number of exceptionally attractive and lovely members of the truly fair sex.  You can believe me, my time was full during those never to be forgotten two summer sessions.

Hamilton Chase at University of Wisconsin

Hamilton Chase



In our Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity house, my neighbor across the hall was Robert Llewellyn Wright - know to all but his father as “B”.  Being the sixth and youngest child of Frank Lloyd Wright, B was rather naturally a shade different from the rest of us.  He was handsome with curly blond hair but woefully untidy and not always clean.  For instance, he, prior to retiring at night, tossed his shirt and underclothes in the corner of the room.  The next morning he’d put on clean clothes and the discarded ones remained in the pile.  When in due course he ran out of clean clothes, B tied up the pile and betook himself to the laundry.  In the meantime, however, the pile produced an increasingly unpleasant scent in B’s room, which did not encourage visitors.  Also, scattered about and stacked up in the room was a large assortment of Japanese prints.  Being completely unappreciating of the finer things in the line of art, all of us looked on these beautiful works with disdain.  In fact, we considered them totally inappropriate in a male student’s room.  However, we did question our judgement when in the summer of 1924, B’s father became a bit short of cash and sold these prints to the Buffalo Museum in NY for $ 5000.  To us students in the year 1924, that seemed a considerable sum of money.


As the summer of 1924 progressed, B became enamored of a lovely blond girl from New Orleans and I enjoyed the company of one of the most beautiful brunettes the city of Louisville has ever brought forth.  The four of us spent quite a few evenings canoeing under the moon of the placid surface of Lake Mendola.  To the accompaniment of a banjo, we rendered “Way Yonder in New Orleans” to perfection - we thought.


Hamilton Chase in the center of his University of Wisconsin DKE Brothers 



So it went until the last weekend of the summer session when B came to me to say that his famous father was spending the summer at “Taliesin”, his residence near Spring Green, Wisconsin.  He had been trying for some time to get B to come to Taliesin for a weekend, but B hadn’t wanted to go alone.  So, his father had agreed that B could bring me with him.  We’d go on the train and his father would bring us back to Madison on Sunday afternoon in his car.


We departed Saturday morning for the short ride to Spring Green and were met at the station by Mr. Wright’s chauffeur in his Cadillac Victoria.  The chauffeur was a youngish man and an excellent driver even though he had only one leg.  I noticed on each side of the car on the body between the front and rear doors a small red steel oblong attached to the car.  When I brought these objects to B’s attention, he said a red oblong was attached to all of Mr. Wright’s possessions including his underwear and socks.  We drove the few miles of beautiful Wisconsin  land to stone gates marked Taliesin.  Then we drove up a good sized hill on a curving gravel road.  At the top of the hill the Taliesin mansion looked out over the magnificent Wisconsin River Valley.  The house itself was comprised of two wings joined together by the work center or studio.  Each wing, for all practical purposes, was a house in itself.  It contained its own kitchen, dining room, living room and bedrooms.  Mr. Wright could have guests or clients staying with him and they and the family each occupied their own quarters independent of the other group.  Returning to the United States, two or three years prior to our visit, from Tokyo, Mr. Wright had converted the money paid him by the Emperor of Japan for building the famous Imperial Hotel in to art objects obtained primarily in Japan, China and Russia.  Even on the porch Chinese idols stared open-eyed at me.  Beautiful Russian bear skin and Chinese Oriental rugs were scattered over the floors.  Japanese prints were everywhere.  The house and every stick of furniture in it was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.  The chairs and couches were low to the floor, soft and comfortable.  The beds too were very comfortable and were also built quite low.


Mr. Wright was a vigorous man in his fifties who greeted B in an affectionate, fatherly manner and acknowledged my presence in a friendly way.  A good part of the east wing was being rebuilt and eight or ten carpenters and masons were at work on the job.  Soon it was time for lunch and all of us including the men working on the house, the farmer -- for Taliesin is a farm -- the farmer’s wife and housekeeper in addition to the architects working in the studio sat down with Mr. Wright at the head of the table.  The architects were a man and his wife from Japan, a Swiss and an Austrian.


The studio was a long and somewhat narrow room with considerable glass looking out over the verdant Wisconsin River Valley to the north.  It was the only room in the house with a high ceiling and had a balcony on the north side of the room.  Since the balcony had excellent light as well as  the handsome view, most of the work seemed to be done there.  The work in progress was to have been a Chicago skyscraper on North Lake Shore Drive.  The weekend prior to our coming, the president of a Chicago insurance company and his family had been Taliesin guests and had examined the plans.  As I recall, however, the deal did not materialize.  Of course, at that time Mr. Wright had not come in to his full fame and some of his work had to go for naught.


This brings me back to the work being done on the east wing.  I asked B what was going on and he said something about the lines of that section of the house had not pleased Mr. Wright, so he had had that portion of the wing torn down and it was now being rebuilt.  I presume he was pleased when the work was completed.


Getting back to B and me at Taliesin;  we enjoyed a good lunch -- nothing fancy but good solid food.  Then after lunch, Mr. Wright suggested that B and I might enjoy riding horseback along the country roads.  So, with the help of the farmer, we went out in the pasture and managed to get halters on two Hackney ponies who had been grazing peacefully and were not easily apprehended.  It seems B’s father had obtained these animals for B on his return trip when he had stopped over to visit in England and his beloved Wales.  Mr. Wright was enormously proud of being a Welshman.  Each of his children bore a Welsh middle name as did he.  Well, the ponie were good, well trained, lively animals.  We took quite a long ride and throughout it had to hold up on the reins to keep the ponies from breaking in to a run.  We enjoyed the ride greatly.  When we returned Mr. Wright suggested that the three of us walk down to the river and enjoy a swim.  He wore, over his swim suit, a Chinese costume of white linen, a outsize straw hat and carried a cane he’d bought from the Phillipines.  When we got down to the river we found the water to be clear and deep enough for swimming.  The current was not swift and the water’s temperature was just bracing enough to make the swimming enjoyable.  In those days your Grandfather was a good swimmer who did pretty darned well with the Australian crawl.   Neither B nor his father was particularly adept at swimming and the old gent made some quite complimentary comments about my ability.  He was grand company on the jaunt and was very friendly and jovial.  I’d had such a good time, I was loath to leave but it became time to climb back up the hill and get dressed for dinner.


Even though it was in the month of August, the evening at Taliesin was cool and the fire was lighted in the fireplace of the east wing living room.  Soon after dinner, neighboring farmers came in one at a time showing  Mr. Wright their … (missing page 9 of 10 of the letter) …


We set off.  The country was green rolling and a joy to the eye.  All went well until we were about five miles out of Madison when the carburetor spit a couple of times and the engine died -- out of gas.  No one seemed anxious to take over the job of going for gasoline so I asked what was to happen next and the job was mine.  The great architect apparently forgot the detail of gasoline fairly frequently for in the rear of the car was an empty gallon can.  Armed with the can, I set out afoot for Madison and gasoline.  I hadn’t walked far, however, before a kind motorist, seeing my situation, stopped and took me to the nearest gasoline station.  I was driven back to the care with a full gallon of gas.  Soon, we were on our way again.


We directed the chauffeur to our fraternity house.  When he saw the sturdy brick colonial edifice, Mr. Wright turned his head away and refused to look at it again.

Goodbyes were said and an interesting, happy weekend was over.

Hamilton Chase's original letter to me and my brother, 1965
___________________________________________________________


To Hamilton Chase
Southwestern Bell Telephone Company
Winfield, Kansas
From Robert Llewellyn Wright,  Chicago, Illinois


November 12, 1929


Dear Ham,


Your letter finally reached me after some delay and I am very grateful for it.  It made me think that there was perhaps some excuse for the letter to “Tim” after all but it usually takes years to life down one of those public outbursts.


I heard of your marriage some time ago and want to take this opportunity to congratulate you.  Brother Snydacker who showed me an original clipping of that event, was detected by me at the Deke tea Saturday, after the Chicago game, with a young lady whom he rushed away for the purpose of feeding, although food was being served at the house.  That will give you an idea of his present financial and spiritual condition.


The game was hardly encouraging, even though a victory, and I should think a bet on Kansas would be better than one on Wisconsin almost any Saturday this year.  Personally, I am again using Cornell as my football alma mater, at least until the Dartmouth game.  


I am now working for Mayer, Meyer, Austrian and Platt which, as you may have heard, is a law office.  Still going to night school and will not finish my law course till June. Starvation wages but the most interesting job I ever had.  


Being married ought not to keep you out of Chicago indefinitely and we ought to be able to stage some sort of a get together before long.  


Sincerely,
B. Wright
619 Cornelia Street











Hamilton Chase remembers Topeka, Wakarusa, Dresden and Edward VII

(This recollection was written by Hamilton Chase)


Early Days of the 20th Century


I was born almost coincidentally with the 20th Century.  To be specific, I was born on the day William McKinley died , the victim of an assassin’s bullet.  The date was September 14, 1901.

Hamilton Chase 1901 - 1969

Hamilton Chase

I can remember nothing of my early childhood but happiness and contentment.  My kind Aunt Lizzie -- my mother’s sister -- was almost a second mother to me.  She had a large and beautifully decorated house located on the site presently occupied by the Kansas State Office Building in Topeka.  Aunt Lizzie was widowed at the end of the 19th Century in the death of Willis Norton, Topeka banker and flour miller.  She shared her home with my grandmother -- Mrs. Thomas Undergraf Thompson -- born Julia Eugenia Hamilton in Western Massachusetts.  Grandmother also was but recently widowed.  Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Willis had been married only six months at the time of his untimely death.  Shortly following that sad event, Grandmother suggested to Aunt Lizzie that they take an extended trip to Europe.  Neither of them had previously been to the continent and as things as this time were generally done at a leisurely and unhurried pace, they spent three years in Europe.  They lived in pensions in France and in their equivalents in Germany.  Dresden suited both of them and they lived there for several months.  The beautiful Dresden after-dinner coffee set at our house was purchased while they were there by Aunt Lizzie.  She planned after returning to Topeka to rebuild her residence and in consequence purchased a good many Objets D’Art in Europe.  The blue tile in the living room of our house was brought from Holland by Aunt Lizzie.  They left the continent in 1901 to spend some time in Great Britain and in time to be present at the crowning of Edward VII as king.  They brought back a large picture of the royal procession on its way to Westminster Abbey.  We have this also.

Elizabeth Thompson (Norton) (Gafford) (1862 - 1931)

Elizabeth Thompson (Norton)(Gafford) (1862 - 1931)
Tile from Dresden, Germany, before 1900

Tile from Dresden , Germany

Hot chocolate set from Dresden, Germany, pre-1900

Dresden Hot chocolate set

Dresden hot chocolate set

 Souvenir from Edward VII coronation 1902 

Souvenir 

back of the souvenir

Entire souvenir with yard stick

Prince of Wales carriage of the coronation process, 1902

Carriage for Edward VII, souvenir 1902
Menu from a pension, Thanksgiving Day 1901

Program from the ship they took home in 1902

Back of the ship's program 1902

Menu for August 24, 1902

Menu for August 1902



Shortly after my birth, Aunt Lizzie and Grandmother returned to Topeka.  As it turned out, however, the renovation of the house was not accomplished until 1912.  Some of my earliest recollections during this period were of Aunt Lizzie’s Swedish maids, Ella and Walberg, who were sisters.  Also, the colored coachman Mac was very kind to me.  Aunt Lizzie had a fine black Morgan carriage horse named Dell.  He and Mac could not have been better acquainted if they had been brothers.  The stable was a commodious and comfortable building located to the rear and just south of the house.  The barn itself was paved with bricks and was made up of a large box stall for Dell, a feed room for hay and oats, a harness room where Dell’s black leather harness with silver mountings was kept, and the carriage room.  Upstairs was Mac’s comfortable apartment complete with bath.  He took his meals in the kitchen of the house.


There were three carriages.  One was a one-seated surrey which Dell loved to pull;  as compared with the other two carriages, it was very light.  For winter use, there was a coach which provided a luxurious glassed-in section for four passengers -- two each facing each other.  Mac, however, sat outside, up on the box, with no cover.  Mac wore a full-length green overcoat and a green top hat.  Also, his knees were covered with a heavy carriage robe.  The robe for use in the rear was wool on one side and fur on the other.  There were also hot bricks on the floor.  These kept one’s feet comfortable in the coldest weather.  My place, when permitted, was up on the box alongside Mac.   I recall one occasion particularly, when Mac and Dell were dispatched a distance of some three miles to Potwin to pick up Mother and Aunt Lizzie at an afternoon tea party.  I persuaded Mac I should ride out with him on the box.  Mac, be it said, never spoke unkindly to Dell and never touched him with the whip.  However, he was not above showing off his fine horse.  When he wanted a little special action from Dell, he would call out to him “Hon - Hah!”  Dell understood immediately, shook his head vigorously and rattled the silver martingale which extended from his bridle under his chest.  On this journey though, Mac not only called “Hon- Hah” but wiggled the whip in its sachet on the box.  This took Dell by surprise and he immediately broke into a gallop.  Mac soon brought him back to a lively trot after called out “ Whoa- Hah “ several times and pulling back on the reins.  I must admit that this show of speed did disconcert me somewhat.


Mother told me in later years that with me dressed in white sitting on the box alongside of black Mac, we made quite a sight.


The third carriage was an open, two-seated affair used when the weather was mild and fine.  It carried one passenger beside Mac and two in the rear.


When I grew a few years older and more independent, I was prone to go to a block from Aunt Lizzie’s house to the State Capitol Building.  It was exciting to climb the steel stairway around and around the inside of the dome until eventually one came to a steel door which opened on to a balcony at the summit of the building.  The view on a clear day included all of Topeka as well as miles and miles of the surrounding countryside.


One winter, Topeka enjoyed -- at least we small boys did -- a season of heavy snow.   Occasionally the snow on the north steps of the State Capitol got ahead of the custodial forces and furnished exciting sledding for me and my friend, Abe Hammalt.  The stone steps go from the side-walls clear to the second floor of the building.  As the ceilings in the building are very high, the steps afforded a slide as good as a long steep hill.  Since the steps were not in proper condition for normal use, a sign on the side-walls advised the public the north entrance was closed and suggested they use the south steps, which had been cleared.   Consequently, a couple of boys who were willing to remain rather quiet could enjoy quite a lot of exciting sledding before they were discovered.


Starting from the top step, the sled gained considerable momentum before arriving at the landing half way down.  The sled frequently sailed through the air struloing the far edge of the landing and again sailed a distance on its way down the steps.  Upon reaching the ground, the sled had considerable momentum left and the whole block from there to eighth street was needed to bring it to a stop.  It was probably the greatest sport I have know to this day.


In these early years of the 20th century, I believe nicknames were much more common for the young fry that they are today.  One of my best friends when we lived at 1101 Polk Street in Topeka was “Spud” Sweet, who lived with his widowed mother a half-block north of us.  An equally good friend was “Bud” Turner, who lived across Polk Street from Spud.  Bud’s father was a fireman on the Rock Island Railroad.  There were two boys and two girls in the family and Mrs. Sweet, who had no extra funds at any time, used to say that the Turner’s threw out more food than they ate.  At any rate, Bud was rising fast in the business world when he was killed in his 20’s in an automobile wreck and his brother Warren, frequently referred to as “hat on the sider” and a great one with the young ladies, retired from the business world as General Freight Traffic Manager of the Atchison Topeka and Santa Fe Railway Co.   This he accomplished with a High School education.


Another young fellow who attended Polk School -- located a block south of our house -- was Christopher “Kit” Thomas.  This nickname was originated by his younger brother, Tom, simply because Kit was the very best he could manage with Christopher.  Mr. Thomas was a highly respected Topeka citizen and was superintendent of the Sante Fe shops.  Kits’ mother, when young, was a very active woman for the times.  She was a worker in the First Methodist Church and made herself heard of in many good causes such as Votes For Women and others having to do with so-called Women’s Rights.  Furthermore, Mrs. Thomas was a very fine mother.  Her three boys had a real Christian upbringing and were taught to work and work hard.  Kit, the elder son, graduated from Topeka High School with a record of studying as much Latin as I was obliged to and that was all the High School offered.  From High School, he went to Purdue University and did splendidly in his studies for a Civil Engineering degree.  In addition, he worked and contributed a good portion of the cost of his education.


Kit returned to Topeka from Purdue and went to work in the Santa Fe shops.  In 1923, he married Dorothy Engel of Lawrence.  She was a daughter of Professor Engel of K.U., a celebrated and beloved man.  It was a large family.  Today, two of Dorothy’s brothers are very fine physicians.  One practices in Cleveland and the other is Kansas City’s top-notch surgeon, Dr. Lawrence P. Engel.


Shortly after Kit and Dorothy were married, the Santa Fe shopmen struck and left their jobs.  Kit, being a member of the management team, joined the other team members in working long hours in keeping the railroad’s steam locomotives in working shape.  One day, Kit’s mother suggested to her new daughter-in-law that they take the younger son, Thomas, and go out to Colorado -- it being a hot summer -- for a time.  They selected Mt. Princeton Hot Springs Hotel, located near Salida.  This hotel was the property of Aunt Lizzie and her second husband, Joseph C. Gafford.  During the season, I was a general handyman about the hotel -- night clerk and chauffeur in particular.  At any rate, today Dorothy says she enjoyed the honeymoon she took with her mother-in-law and brother-in-law.   They didn’t have to hurry back to the Kansas heat as the strike lasted all summer.


Today, I am one of Kit’s assistants in his job as Chairman of the Johnson County Republican Central Committee.  In 1929, Kit changed jobs to go to work for the Pittsburg and Midway Coal Company in Pittsburg, Kansas.  There, he became well acquainted with Kenneth Spencer, son of the owner.   During World War II, the government built a chemical plant near Pittsburg and the operating contract went to Spencer Chemical Company.  It was a new organization set up by Kenneth Spencer.   After the war, the Spencer Chemical Company bought the plant from the government and Kit was made an officer of the company.  In 1958, or thereabouts, Kenneth Spencer died very suddenly.  Soon afterward, Kit Thomas --and that is just the name by which he is known today -- was made Chairman of the Spencer Chemical Company Board of Directors.  He is now over 65 and retired from the company, which was purchased by Gulf Oil Company in 1963.


Due primarily to the ethics and Christian beliefs instilled in him by his mother and father in his early years, Kit Thomas is known today as a “Christian Gentleman.”  I feel sure his 92 year old mother,  who gets around the house (in which she raised her three boys) in a wheelchair, must take great pride in her elder son.  How many of today’s millionaires have you heard referred to as a “Christian Gentleman?”


Following is a partial list -- very partial because Kit doesn’t talk much of his accomplishments -- of this 65 year old fellow’s activities:
  1. Chairman of the Johnson County Kansas Republican Committee.  75% of the November 1964 vote for US Congressman in Johnson County went to Robert Ellsworth, Republican incumbent.
  2. President of the Kansas State Chamber of Commerce
  3. Member of the Board of Trustees for 10 years;  Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas.
  4. Member of the Board of Directors of the Johnson County National Bank
  5. Head of a corporation which built and owns a large shopping center situated on South Topeka Avenue in Topeka, Kansas
  6. Founder and a Trustee of Asbury Methodist Church


A few years ago, the Kansas Bishop of the Methodist Church asked Kit to assist the Kansas City District Superintendent in setting up a church to serve the residents of Prairie Village.  Kit did not expect to know the Superintendent, but when he heard his name, knew that they had been fellow students at Polk School.  The church has a large membership and a beautiful church plant.  It is located on West 75th Street about a mile west of Mission Road.


    Of my almost countless birthdays, the outstanding one in my recollection was my fifth.  As I think back, just about everyone must have been there.  I recall all my friends,  my sister Ethel’s friends, Mother,  Aunt Lizzie, Grandmother.  It was a great and wonderful assemblage in the eyes of the five year old guest of honor.  Aunt Lizzie’s gift was the pie’ce de resistance of the great day.  It was a blue police wagon with a driver’s box up front and edgewise facing seats in the rear.  These provided for three junior-sized prisoners on each side.  During the afternoon, it was hauled up the block and back a good many times with the guests and myself taking turns as horses driver and prisoner.  The speed of the horses and the inexperience of the driver resulted in one spill but injuries resulting consisted only of a few scratches.  It was even a little difficult to take time out for ice cream and cake.  Thus ended a marvelous birthday.


    Around 1910 or 1911, the age of the automobile was still over the horizon.  Some buffs donned linen dusters and goggles,  adjusted the spark,  got to the front of the care and started the engine - if all went well - by spinning the crank.  The first car with self-starter about which I had any knowledge was Uncle Joe Gafford’s high sitting 1912 Cadillac.  Aunt Lizzie remained a widow from the late 1890’s until about 1913, as I recall.  
During those years, she had at least one serious beau.  He was Dr. Thompson, a local dentist.  While Aunt Lizzie did not discourage Dr. Thompson’s attendance upon her, Grandmother did.  He must have lacked some of the social graces which Grandmother considered essential.  Grandmother was a genuine aristocrat who had small truck with any tradesman or individual bereft of excellent social behavior.  Grandfather Thompson had been a highly successful lumberman in Williamsport, Pa.  One time early in the New Year, having just gone over the previous year’s accounts, he remonstrated with Grandmother because the family’s expenditures had come to $ 30,000.  Grandmother’s calm rejoinder was that it took money to keep a family with three young daughters going in the middle 1880s.  Grandfather suffered a large loss in a forest fire which burned off a large portion of his timber lands.  The next year, he suffered a disastrous fire which destroyed his Newark, New Jersey, box factory.  At this time, Grandfather Thompson was around sixty years of age.  He did not wish to go heavily in to debt in order to build his business back to its former state.  Consequently, he packed up his family and moved to the farm (360 acres) a half mile north of Wakarusa, Kansas and eleven miles south of Topeka.  This property was originally homesteaded and later added to by John Hamilton, Grandmother’s father.  He had gone around Cape Horn to the California Gold Rush from his home in Western Massachusetts.  This was in 1849.  Not meeting with success in California, Great Grandfather left California in a wagon train headed back east.  When he reached the verdant rolling hills near Wakarusa, he settled down on the farm and built a log cabin for his abode - being a widower, he lived alone.  The countryside reminded him of his native heath in Western Massachusetts.  This was in 1850. Most all the acreage in the Wakarusa farm was put under the plow and the native blue stem grass destroyed.  Eighty acres on the west side of the farm, being rough, was not plowed under.
Today, 115 years later, the eighty is still virgin land and blue stem hay is cut from it each year.


Grandmother and Grandfather moved to the farm from Williamsport, PA, in 1886, bringing with them their three daughters;   Lizzie,  Annie and Mary.  Annie was my mother.  She was twenty years old and had previously been a student at Dana Hall in Wellesley, Massachusetts.  A good friend of hers there had been Ethel Chase of Wilkes-Barre, PA.  In the course of events, it was quite natural that Annie Thompson should meet Ethel’s brother, Harold, a student in nearby Harvard College.  They were quite taken with each other right away.

Painting (by G. Colby) taken by Elizabeth Thompson to Wakarusa from Wilkes-Barre, 1873

George Colby painting taken by Elizabeth Thompson to Wakarusa from Wilkes-Barre, 1873
(the back says "Property of Mrs. W. Norton, Topeka, Kansas, 1873)



    In 1886, Harold was graduated from Harvard.  He returned to his native Wilkes-Barre and became a reporter on the Wilkes-Barre Record.  However, he did not forget Annie Thompson and in 1887, betook himself to Topeka and a job with the Topeka Capital.


    In the meantime, as can be imagined, life in the log cabin was the Wakarusa farm was a bit rustic for a cultured lady with an eastern background and her three lovely daughters.  My mother has told me it was not unusual for a Shawnee Indian (or for that matter several of them) to come to the door asking for a handout of food.  As a result, Grandfather Thompson purchased a two story white house on the west side of Topeka Ave. in the 1200 block.  Here the atmosphere was considerably more agreeable and Grandmother began her social activities.  She and her daughters were quite active in Topeka society for a good many years.  My father and mother were married in Topeka in January 1890.  My sister, Ethel, was born in Topeka on December 26, 1896 and I arrived at Stormont Hospital, September 14, 1901.  It never ceased to amaze father that his two children had been born in different centuries.  But, so it was.


Ham Chase's "Livery Advertisement" with neighborhood friends 1912 ?


Ham Chase's friends participating in the neighborhood livery


Note that his father, HTC, is a "silent partner because we have no time to talk to him"

(See the October 26, 1906 letter written by Harold T. Chase (under his collection of letters). He talks about the "livery business".)


    I have wandered rather far afield since I started in to talk about the horse and buggy age.  At any rate, a family moved from the farm to the house on the other end of our block.  One of the boys was in Polk School and being about my age, we soon became acquainted.  This boy brought with him from the farm a bay shetland pony.
    
    Our house and practically all the rest had a barn on the alley side of the lot.  Our barn had a hay loft above but did not have any stalls on the first floor.


    One day, out of the blue, the boy on the corner asked me if my father would care to purchase his pony Teddy for me.  I inquired the price and was told it was $ 65.00.  Even at the age of ten, I had enough economic intelligence to be sure father would not take to this proposition with a completely unminded sense of great joy.  Money with the Chases was invariably short.  At any rate, I chose to present my plan to father when he came home to dinner that evening.  I would take all the care of Teddy and the only expense beyond the $ 65 would be that required for the purchase of prairie hay, alfalfa hay - in comparatively small quantities - and oats.  When the discussion got underway, father, of course, brought up the fact that a box stall for Teddy would have to be built by a carpenter and that such essentials as a container for oats, a saddle, a bridle, a halter and a curry (?) and brush would have to be purchased.  Seeing that my heart was set on having Teddy - who was incidentally four years old - father did not turn me down but said he would consider the matter and give me an answer after some thought and discussion with Mother.


    In a day or two, I was called in to the library to meet with mother and father about Teddy.  Soon, it became apparent to me that the talk was on an economic key and was headed in a direction completely unfriendly to my cause.  It was too much for me to face and I hurriedly left the room to avoid having my tears seen.  Before long, Mother came to my room and said that although the purchase of Teddy placed a burden upon father that he would go ahead with it if I’d remember my promise to take all care of the pony.  I was in danger of bursting with joy.  I can say today with some pride that I kept that agreement completely for the three year period it took me to outgrow Teddy.


    Incidentally, it later turned out that Teddy was not 100 percent Shetland.  The word from the boy on the corner was that he was ¾ Shetland and ¼ Indian.  After I had had some experience with Teddy’s feisty nature, father told some friends of the family about Teddy’s genealogy and added that it was quite apparent that the hind quarter was the Indian.


    At any rate, I had some great times with Teddy and was out and about with him most every day.  Abe Hammatt was soon given a pony and manys the time he and I took a Saturday lunch with us and rode out to Burnetts mound for the day.


    One summer there was talk that we would be going east for a visit with our relatives.  I was beginning to become concerned over what was to be done with Teddy.  At this juncture on a Sunday afternoon afternoon, Virginia (Ginnie) Miller and her father came over to see me.  Clyde Miller owned a 7000 acre blue stem cattle ranch adjoining the town of Miller between Topeka and Emporia.  The family wanted to spend the summer on the ranch but Virginia needed a pony.  So, Teddy went to the Miller ranch and instead of having a problem of what to do with him, I was actually paid for letting Virginia use him.  Incidentally, a good many years ago, she married Ned Fleming, a Topeka boy whose father was in the wholesale grocery business.  Ned was graduated from the Wharton Business School at the University of Pennsylvania.  Through his Fleming Co., he has done a great job of organizing independent retail groceries in to what is known as IGA - Independent Grocers Alliance.  His business has grown by leaps and bounds and Ned is Topeka’s outstanding business success.  Also, for the past several years, he has been a director of the Southwestern Bell Telephone Co.

Hamilton Chase around 1911 in Craigville, Cape Cod

Probably Hamilton Chase, Harold T. Chase and Annie Chase
Craigville, Cape Cod, 1911


1911 was the year father’s class was to celebrate the twenty fifth anniversary of its graduation from Harvard.  I was eleven at the time.  Father had never returned to Cambridge after his graduation and was anxious to see his former classmates.  The four of us left by train for Boston in the early part of June.  Our visit in Cambridge was spent with Aunt Carrie and Uncle George Chase with whom father made his home during his Freshman year at College.  Uncle George was a brother of my grandfather, Edward H. Chase, and was a younger son of Deacon Samuel Chase of Haverhill, Mass.  One practice that took some getting used to on my part was the ritual of morning prayers at Uncle George’s house.  He and Aunt Carrie seemed quite old to my young eyes.  I presume they were likely in their seventies.  In the front hall of their house stood the Grandfather clock which today is in our dining room.  It had belonged to Deacon Samuel.


During the time we were in Cambridge, father spent considerable time with his old classmates and I didn’t see much of him.  One day, however, he took me to Boston with him.  We rode in and back in an open street care with wooden seats.  As we were sitting down on our return trip, I was delighted to spy two dimes and a nickel which must have dropped out of the pocket of the seat’s previous occupant.  My joy was short lived as when father put his hand in his pocket to obtain change for our fares, he found, to his chagrin, that he had spent in Boston his last cent.  Thanks to my fortunate find, we sailed blithely on to Cambridge with no one the wiser.


One Sunday in Cambridge a large chauffeur driven open care appeared outside Uncle George’s house.  We all climbed in and were driven a few miles out in the country to the estate owned by father’s cousin, Mrs. Mabel Hill.  There was a large contingent of the Chase family gathered together that day.  I only remember the Harvey Chases and their son and daughter.  Harvey was one of father’s numerous first cousins.  His son, Stuart, was named for his grandfather, who had been another son of Deacon Samuel.  He has become quite celebrated as an economist and author.


After the celebration of the 25th anniversary and incidentally, Mother, Ethel and I all went to Soldier’s Field with father for the graduation exercises, the family betook itself to Cape Ann and a rented cottage near Gloucester.  The resort was called Bass Rocks.  One day, while we were there,  father rented a boat and rowed the family across Gloucester Bay and back.  He became quite weary before the voyage was completed.


Father loved to sail.  He and mother became acquainted with a young family living next to us and the two families rented a sailboat.  The young father became quite celebrated later on as the baritone Reinald Werrenrath.  In fact, before Mr. Werrenrath became well known, father used his influence to get him included on a winter musical series in Topeka.  He came to our house a week ahead of the concert.  Mother thought it would be fine to have him sing privately in a musical soiree before some of the family friends.  Mr. Werrenrath, however, though not yet well known, was a professional and would not consider singing without a fee.  I privately agreed with Mother that he should have done something to justify his week’s room and board.  Nevertheless, we first heard his beautiful baritone voice about thirty minutes prior to the hour of his concert.  He did need to warm up his vocal chords.


______   ________   ____________   __________  _______________


(next is an addendum written by Hamilton Chase on July 12, 1964)


One summer when Harold Taylor Chase was twelve years old, he was sent off to Haverhill, Mass., for an extended visit with his paternal grandparents.  Playing one day with a neighbor boy, he thought what a fine idea it would be to go to a nearby store and by a pack of candy.  He and his friend pooled their cash and found it insufficient for the purchase.  At this juncture, it occurred to Harold that his Grandmother might add the small amount needed.  His Grandmother, a true New Englander, had, with advancing years, become partially deaf.   Harold found it necessary to ask his Grandmother in a rather loud voice to be sure she understood.  However, he reckoned without Grandmother’s lack of understanding of the vernacular of the younger set.  In reply to his request that she “chip in”  Grandmother replied, “Chicken, yes, I think we can have Chicken for dinner.”  But, there was to be no candy.


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Hamilton Chase as High school freshman, 1914 ?

Hamilton Chase as High school freshman, 1914 ?
The original document

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A letter from Hamilton Chase to his grandchildren;  Lyle and Charles Courtsal
May 26, 1969

Dear Lyle and Charlie:

We were delighted to receive Charlie's personally dictated message a few days ago and feel sure the trip to the zoo was enjoyable as well as educational.

Charlie asked what was stirring at our house and the answer is that we've been lively.  Thursday night, our beautiful choir at St. Paul's Episcopal church furnished the entertainment for our first Spring Festival.  We had a picnic supper and I noticed the more youthful the individual, the more pleasure he took in the meal.  Mimi and Mrs. James Evans -- wife of the Choir- Master -- played the accompaniment to five Brahms Love Waltzes, very lovely music.  Mrs. Evans and Mimi played four hands on one piano.  The last number the choir sang was "Song of Music".  It was beautiful.

Friday morning, my old friend Perry Brewer and I departed -- in his 1967 Cadillac -- for Topeka and our 50th anniversary reunion at Topeka High School.  We found only one old-time close friend of ours there -- He is Raymond Coolidge whom I had not seen in 40 years.  He'd changed so little I looked hard at him and called him by names.  He has become quite a prominent architect i.e.. Shawnee County Court House,  Topeka City Hall and Auditorium,  Law Building of Washburn College.

Saturday, I took my good friend Leo Considine to the annual convocation of the Telephone Pioneers at the Elms Hotel.  We saw a lot of old friends and had a High Old Time.

This Friday, Mimi and I will go to Topeka to decorate the graves at Topeka Cemetery, following which will call on the John Adams.  He is recovering from a gallbladder operation.  The wound became infected after the operation and he ran a high fever and became quite ill.  It was a real tough deal but he seems to be progressing well at home now.  Mrs. Adams, his mother, has not been up to par in recent weeks either.

We're very excited about our trip.   We plan to leave June 4th and go to Yellowstone where we'll take in the sights.  Next we'll stop at Boise, Idaho to see the O.K. Werty family.  From there we'll drive to Eugene, Oregon and renew acquaintance with Mama T's old friend, Mrs. Ball.  Also, in Oregon, we plan to look in on Portland and on Crater Lake.

We do not know how long we'll be gone but will probably return some time the first half of July.

Well, you two good boys and good friends, enjoy your summer.  Give our love to your parents.

Affectionately,

Grandaddy