Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 May 1887 — THE MITCHELL FUNERAL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE MITCHELL FUNERAL

One of the Largest That Ever Took Place in the City of Milwaukee. Impressive Services by the Clergy at the Church and the Pilgrimage to the Grave. [Milwaukee special.]The funeral of Alexander Mitchell was the largest ever witnessed in Milwaukee. It took place fiom St. James Episcopal Church. Before removing the casket from the bouse, Rev. Dr. Keene read a prayer in the presence of the family. The scene at the church was in accordance with the beautiful ritual of the Episcopal Church, of which Mr. Mitchell was a devoted member. About all of the seats in the church were reserved for the relatives and friends, for the Governor afid staff, the State and city officials and delegations of societies, commerce and railroad bo.lies and delegations. The casket was opened, and the remains lay in state until the hour of the funeral. A constant stream of people had been

passing through the church, and during the forenoon thousands viewed the remains. The face of the dead man looked lifelike and natural, and there were many sad scenes and incidents during the day as old friends looked at the dead man for time. The casket was heavily draped, and on its lid rested a cross of calla lilies. A special train from Chicago brought hundreds of people, many of whom could not get near the church. During tho vice the broad avenue was blocked with a deuse mass of humanity that had gathered to pay their last respects to the dead millionaire and citizen. Hundreds of strangers from over the Northwest and from other parts of the country were present. The service was impressively conducted by Rev. Dr. Keene, Mr. Mitchell’s old iriend and pastor, and Rev. E. G. Richardson, rector of St. James Church. At its close a vast funeral cortege formed and slowly wended its way to Forest Home. There was no military display, and the long line that followed the remains was made up of railroad and other employes of the big enterprises of which Mr. Mitchell was the head, of old settlers, and of societies in which he had long held membership. As the cortege passed through the Soldiers Home a guard of 600 old veterans acted as an escort from one gate to the other. At the grave in Forest Home Cemetery the service was brief, and was conducted entirely by Dr. Keene, and consisted of the committal and a prayer. All flags over the city were flying at half mart. The stores and shops closed at noon, and during the afternoon business was as entirely suspended as on the Sabbath.

Stories of the Dead Millionaire. (From the Chicago Times.] In 1879 the Democratic State Convention at Madison nominated Mitchell for Governor while he was in London. He sent a cable dispatch positively declining the nomination, but omitted his signature, as is customary, to save expense, when the sender of a cablegram is well known. The enthusiastic Democrats would not accept the dispatch as genuine because he had not signed it. “Jim” Jenkins, the Milwaukee lawyer, was a delegate in the convention, and defended the genuineness of the dispatch by explaining the custom as to cable messages. “Cablegrams cost forty cents a word.” he said, “and we all know Mr. Mitchell’s economical habits where expense is not necessary. By not signing his name to his dispatch he saved eighty cents.” The argument was conclusive to the Democrats of the outlying Milwaukee wards and of the backwoods, and the declination was accepted. Yet in political matters, when he took an interest on one side or the ottier, Mr. Mitchell was not only generous but lavish of money. He attended a meeting of the Democratic State Central Committee in 1871, when ex-Senator J. R. Doolittle was the Democratic candidate for Governor. “How much money do you expect to raise?” he asked. He was answered by Sat Clark that they ought to have about $5,000. “Give me the pen,” he said, and pulled the paper toward him. He signed for $2,500 — half the amount said to be required—and drew his check for the money. It was about all the money that they had for the campaign. He was a delegate to the Democratic National Convention at St. Louis in 1876, where Tilden was nominated for President. Doolittle, George B. Smith, Joe Rankin, N. D. Fratt, and others were his colleagues. At the close of the convention their several bills were sent to their parlor, the cost of which (SSOO for the week) was apportioned among them. Ringing the bell as a clerk appeared Mr. Mitchell said: “Make the bill (be pronounced it “bull,” with a bur in his pronunciation) for the room out to me.’ It was done, and he drew his check for the whole amount. His gifts to charity were very numerous, and he even allowed himself occasionally to be bled to a reasonable extent by frauds and deadbeats whom he knew to be such. He had some worthy pensioners, generally pqor Scotchmen, to whom he gave regular gratuities. In church matters and others of a really deserving character, he usually let the begging committee get all that they could raise from others, and then made up the remainder himself. When Mitchell was worth SIOO,OOO or $200,000, and was regarded as a growing Western banker, he made his first formal

visit as a capitalist to the East and went on to Wall street He was immediately selected as their prey by the wolves of the street. He had determined to try hie luck a little in stocks and .they found out what his purchase was. They manipulated the stock, working it down, and hung on to it with characteristic tenacity. He was called upon for marg ns, and kept putting up and ‘putting up. It did not take him long to “catch on.” and he saw what the sharpers were at. He at once drew and raised enough money to buy at its greatly depressed value every dollar of stock which he had margined for a considerable port.on of its price as it then stood. “Take that, dom ve,” he slid mentally and aloud to the whole of Wall street, as he bade it good-bv. The stock rebounded with force as the artificial pressure was taken off, and the blacklegs who had been selling it short to "skin” him saw it advance a' ove the price at which be had mule the original purchase, so that he unloaded at a ] rofit and they were the losers.

One or two anecdotes that are characteristic of a grimly humorous side of his disposition may be told. Four or five years ago a book-keeper in his bank proved a defaulter. The clerk had a desk near the vault, out of wnich. by some sleight-of-hand, he had stolen money for years and falsified the books so as to cover it. Exactly how it was done could not be explained, and nobody’ could tell how much cash he had got away with. The sum stolen was supposed to be hundreds of thousands of dollars, and the thei ts Lad been i oing on for at least six or seven years before tney were discovered. Mitchell was talking about the weather one day to a friend, and smiled lightly at the loss. “But,” said he, “there’s my nephew, ~oLn Johnston, who is an expert book-keeper and has charge of the books, and he can’t tell how it happened. It’s a dom’d good joke on John Johnston that he couldn’t see what was going on before his eyes. ”

The late Chief Justice E. G. Ryan, of Wisconsin, had something of the toady in his disposition while he was struggling for a livelihood as a needy lawyer. After he became Chief Ju-tice he decided all the cases under the absurd granger laws against the railroads, and t“e St. Paul line suffered severely. The Chief Justice met the railroad magnate after the decisions were given. “ Why, how well you are looking, Mr. Mitchell,” said the Chief Justice, with an affability that at that period he showed to few men. “Yes,” said Mitchell, “I’ve been getting sot (fat) on your decisions.” The sneer cut the great jurist like a knife, and he walked away without a word.