Annie Fellows
Johnston Scrapbook
Newspaper
"Clippings" 1919
Louisville Courier-Journal, March 2, 1919, Marse Henry Edition:
Henry Watterson (1840-1921), was the Pulitzer Prize
winning editor of the Louisville Courier-Journal newspaper.
"Marse Henry," Watterson's autobiography was published in
1919. The complete book can be found on-line at http://docsouth.unc.edu/watterson/menu.html
Gifted
Of the Gods,
Says
Annie Fellows Johnston
When a man is born
great, the stars bestow their largess regardless of the month in which his
horoscope is cast. Henry Watterson was born in February, but Mars' month
endowed him with the war god's signet --- the bloodstone. Since which time
a Martian courage has been "the jewel of his soul."
In recalling his
long and distinguished career as a journalist one naturally thinks first of
his fearlessness of utterance. In every national crisis since he has wielded
a pen, his editorial columns have flamed like the handwriting on the wall in
the palace of ancient Babylon. Whenever some political Belshazzar has risen
up to make too free with the sacred vessels of party ideals and traditions,
"In the same hour came forth the fingers of a man's hand and wrote upon
the wall.
It makes no
difference whether his verdict of "weighed and found wanting"
reflects the flame of universal opinion or happens to be only the sulphurous
glow of some personal animosity. In either case it is always fearless,
always fiery and always makes interesting reading.
But
the bloodstone is not the only gift of the gods. February's amethyst is his
birthstone, as it was Washington's and Lincoln's, and he shares with them
not only that symbol of superiority, but certain attributes which give him a
unique place among his fellows.
Though
his fortunes never called him to be the leader of all the people any part of
his time, he has led a goodly percentage of them all the time, whether they
were aware of the fact or not. And he has done this not as a General
directing an army arbitrarily assigned to him, but as the bugle rallying men
to the colors by its own irresistible appeal and sounding the
"Charge!" with soul-impelling voice.
Few
men realize how largely their opinions are shaped and actions prompted by
the "line upon line and precept upon precept" method of their
favorite daily papers. An editor is like one who sows acorns. He can never
hope to see his full harvest, nor can he even adequately dream what giant
oaks may arise in time from his planting. Nice growth of civic sentiment is
seldom of Jack-and-the-beanstalk quickness. More often it is as gradual as
the growth of an oak, and rarely is either crop accredited to the hand which
planted the acorn or the ideal and kept the soil stirred around it.
Great
achievement in any line must be accorded its
proper meed of
purple and ermine. But lest some look askance at even the mere words
suggesting royalty, in these days when dynasties are in disfavor and kings
cried out upon, let it be said that there is a kind of royalty which the
most democratic cannot gainsay. That is the sovereignty of the born leader.
There
are certain units of measurement which do not change. We have held to them
from the time men dressed in skins. We, still count by candlepower in this
age of electricity, and the word "sword" will not depart from
common speech though war be wiped out forever, because it has stood for ages
as the symbol of combat. So, too, in our choice of chiefs we continue to
measure them as our tribal ancestors did. We hand. the scepter to the one
among us of highest stature or greatest prowess.
In
his own especial field who stands higher than our "H. W."? Who,
through a long lifetime, has shown greater skill in shaping the public mind
to the truth as he sees it? His slogans have the force and directness of
barbed arrows. His perennial vigor of phrase and charm of diction compel the
admiration of the whole reading public --- even that portion of it which
needs must swear while it reads, because from its partisan viewpoint it sees
him as a toreador, coming forth with a flutter of red, to start a general
shaking of horns.
He
is one of our distinguished national figures whom the most brilliant and
representative men of other lands esteem it a privilege to meet. America is
a bit shy about giving a man his full meed of applause until he has passed
into history. But the country which made a mecca of Mount Vernon and
enshrined a lowly log cabin in walls of protecting granite will do full
honor to this indomitable knight. In her "Hall of the
Shields" she is keeping a high place for the name and arms of Watterson.
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