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GEORGE ESTERLY
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For the family and friends of one of the best citizens Wisconsin has ever
had, the memoranda of his life work and character contained in the
following publications are herewith gathered for preservation in
permanent form.
[From the Whitewater Register, June 8, 1893.]
DEATH OF GEORGE ESTERLY.
The sad news of Mr. Esterly's death came over the wires yesterday, but
fulfilling the fears awakened Monday, when he was reported as rapidly
º failing. ,”
3. In the death of Mr. Esterly has departed from his earthly labors one of
a the most remarkable men whom Whitewater, or perhaps the state, has known.
e A Inan of never ceasing mental activity, and, until of very recent years, of
& great physical energy, there was scarcely a subject which he had not studied,
• and upon which he had not radical opinions. His strong originality was
evinced in everything which he undertook, whether of business or intellect-
4– &esi‘...
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ual labor, and everything he did was marked with his individuality. His
energy was indomitable. No reverses, and he suffered some heavy ones,
were sufficient to overcome his never yielding courage; no problem was
so great or so intricate as to deter him from undertaking its solution.
Some of his articles upon public questions had met with wide attention dur-
ing life, and will be often consulted in the future. In all he wrote, in all he
designed, there was evidence of unwonted mental power.
His past for many years had been so identified with Whitewater inter-
ests, and his business of such magnitude for the locality, that he was one of
the most prominent characters in our midst. While some of his projects and
many of his ideas were somewhat startling to conservative, cautious minds,
yet they were admirable in the wide mental reach which they displayed, and
all were forced to admire even where they could not agree. To do justice
to the memory of one so widely known, we feel constrained to yield to abler
hands, and a biographical sketch and fitting notice will be penned by the
editor on his return.
[From the Whitewater, Register, June 15, 1893.]
ACROSS THE BAR.
“I gazed upon the glorious sky and the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came to lie at rest beneath the silent ground
I would it were in leafy June,
When the brooks were all in tune,
And groves with joy resound.
Such a day was Sunday last when family, friends and hundreds of
citizens gathered to commit the mortal remains of George Esterly to their
final resting place in Grove Cemetery. Had it been his to choose, the day
and its surroundings were doubtless such as he would have wished. As the
toilers dream of rest, the warring of peace, and the idlers of some sphere of
activity, so must the deep serenity of that perfect June afternoon have been
most welcome to his never resting spirit. And could he have looked back
upon the throng there gathered, and witnessed the genuine sorrow which lay
upon every heart, it cannot be but that he would rejoice to know that he
was so remembered. He never courted favor or popularity for their own
sake, yet the just esteem and approval of his fellow man were doubtless very
dear to him.
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To properly record the life and work of Mr. Esterly, and to speak dis-
criminatingly of his character, is no easy task, and the address given by
Rev. E. C. Barnard is so comprehensive and fit that it is given herewith en-
tire, in compliance with a request so largely made as to be justly considered
as general.
MR. BARNARD'S ADDRESS.
The end of all things earthly has come to another friend and neighbor.
George Esterly lies dead in his own home. In an unusual sense all these
surroundings were his—the marks of an intense personality, a remarkable
man, are all about us. This ample dwelling, these grounds, this large and
entirely representative gathering, this community, are all in some sense ident-
ified with him. He was accustomed to open his doors with great hospitality
to his friends; and we could have asked no better day than this perfect one
in June, when all classes can come so conveniently within these walls, and
about the porches and along the walks, while old neighbors and business
companions bear the familiar form for the last time down these steps, and
away to the cemetery, where he must also go under the entrance, “Erected
by Geo. Esterly,” to his final resting place. Whitewater has probably
never had a more marked and prominent citizen. And he had the good
fortune to fill out his life and citizenship to more than the allotted length.
And yet if he could now speak, he might say that “the great design unfin-
ished lies—our lives are incomplete.” No matter how late is the coming,
death takes us somewhat by surprise, and stays our hurrying feet. But even
when men rest from their labors, their influence cannot stop. Their works
do follow them. There is a certain breath of the life which is uninterrupted,
undying. -
“So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men.”
Sometimes the evening of life is long, the warnings and infirmities of
age appear in time, and years of gradual and gentle letting go, of interrupted
and painful activity may follow. The great Task Master seems to say:
“You have done enough—sit down now, rest in anticipation of the rest that
remaineth.” It was not so with our friend. He hardly knew age as a reali-
ty, or a hindrance to activity. The work of growing old, of becoming famil-
4.
iar with infirmity, of thinking of change and departure, was all crowded for
him into the last three or four years. It involved a severe struggle. The
outward man decayed faster than the inward man could become adjusted to
it. He willed and planned that the weak and worn body of 80 years should
be restored and kept in services as if it had known the toil of life but 60
years. The thought that he was an old man had not been an inmate of his
mind. But he was aged, and we need not mourn that he is dead, nor be
sad to see the gathered grain. We are glad that he lived so long, and glad
that he has gone to his rest. And his departure was characteristic of the life
of unconquered resolution. He had battled with obstacles, he had met
with labors and losses at times which would have vanquished less enterpris-
ing men. When 50 years old he met financial defeat which it took ten
years of the hardest work of his life to recover from. For him to live was to
plan, to fight, and to advance—to stop was to die. During the last years he
has seemed to live by his masterful will. Friends and physicians thought
it wise and timely to quietly gather the drapery of his couch about him,
in the comfort of his own house, and wait in pleasant dreams for the last
summons. Not so could he do. He died at a distance, at the front, bat-
tling for life as he might for an almost completed invention, the vision of
some almost realized industry. For the will, the energy, the word to stop
meant at once the knell of the departure. This life of more than 80 years
was one of tireless force. He must have been blessed with magnificent
physical powers, perhaps not so much muscular energy as those vital
forces, which mysteriously use the physical, material organs of brain and
body. He was a man wonderfully alive, and he spent his 80 years in a
wonderfully vital and active age of the world. Events and enterprises of
wonderful import have transpired during that time. The advance in arts,
science, education, religion, business and government, has been surpassing.
The population of our country has grown from five or six millions to ten
times that number. Knowledge has increased—nations have been brought
into one neighborhood; traffic, intelligence, ways and means of industry have
been revolutionized. The vast matured development of these years is the
pride and wonder of the world. Nothing, probably has done more to make
this possible than the invention and use of machinery, and among the brains
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active in this way, few have been more active than that of Geo. Esterly.
Born on a farm in Ulster county, New York, in 1809, he picked up a
common school education, and as early as 1837 came to Heart Prairie, one
of the garden spots of Wisconsin, and with characteristic energy took up
nearly 1200 acres of land, and in a few years was raising three or four hun-
dred acres of wheat. How to harvest it when raised was the problem; and
then and there began the battle with inventions. Crude machines in the
shape of reapers and mowers had been invented in two or three places. . With
some of these ideas to start with, Mr. Esterly converted his barn into a shop
and factory, and for years made and unmade, succeeded and failed, till com-
parative victory and prosperity rewarded his invincible resolution and un-
conquerable persistency, more than many of his friends are probably aware.
He deserves recognition as one of the men who have done most for the im-
provement of certain kinds of farm machinery. But his business life is un-
derstood by those who have known him. And yet this was not the only line
in which his mind was active. If, instead of industrial invention he had
given himself to politics and government, he would as resolutely have gone
to the front. As it was he was a profound student of social, political and
financial problems. He frequently wrote and published papers concerning
them. He has drafted bills for legislatures and senates. As men of strong
will are, and must needs be, he was positive, and somewhat immovable—un-
til his idea was practically overthrown, or absolutely proved untenable. The
next step was to find another and better idea, to get again on the track. His
activity extended to all matters of social and community concern. White-
water cannot say that Geo. Esterly came here to make money, to do business
and not to be a citizen. He has been a tower of strength for good to all the
best interests of this city. He was not infallible, nor perhaps always wise, .
but his sympathies, his convictions were kind and conscientious. He thought
hard and long on some of the most perplexing questions of life and society.
It was net easy for others to divert his mind, or change his opinions. He
was not a reed shaken by the wind. Possibly, with his conscious ability,
and energetic will, he may have outrun in vision and planning what it was
possible to accomplish in this hard, matter of fact world.
A grain more of caution, and disposition to husband results as standing
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ground for future advance, might have saved him, as it does us all, from
some failures and disappointments. . It is easy to live in advance of one's
time and expect impossibilities. The head among the stars is tempted to
forget that the feet must be kept on earth. The engine may take such a
speed as to leave the track at the curve. Self-made men, who attain striking
success are tempted to this strong confidence in their own plans. It is hard
to estimate at their full force the limitations necessitated by what others may
do. While a man lays his own plans the roots must grow in the soil of
society, business, a complicated and uncertain mass of energies and activi-
ties. The race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong. Many
of you have known of this active life, the perseverance, integrity, honor of it.
While Mr. Esterly would strive to succeed, I believe he enjoyed seeing oth-
ers succeed. He would like to see the community prosper in all good
things. The abiding virtues of life were lived by him, and enforced by
speech and pen. He rejoiced in the prosperity of those who worked with
him and for him. He was known to be a friend to the poor. A few persons
have told me of things he has done, greatly to his credit as a kind hearted
and generous man. He was wont not to let his right hand know what his
left hand was doing. Young men have been assisted toward an education,
the unfortunate have been encouraged, and in all matters benevolent and
philanthropic, he was appealed to, and seldom in vain. The mind was hardly
more eager and fertile in thought, than was the heart full of sympathy, and
the hand ready to respond. His charities sought no narrow or sectarian
channels. Realities were more important with him than names. He helped
all the churches. He wanted all to do the best they could, and all the good
they could. If his own religious experience be inquired after it might be
difficult to state it, or classify him. One could not be much with him and
not perceive that his was a very religious nature, He could never let alone
the field of religious thought and discussion. His intensely active and in-
quiring intellect kept him canvassing the beliefs of the sects, the writings of
all schools, and the alleged evidences and phenomena of christian experi-
ence. His own beliefs extended somewhat widely and generously. He ac-
corded great liberty to himself, and would claim it equally for all others.
As I have frequently talked with him during the last two years, I have had
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a great desire to know what such a man had come to think of life, its prob-
lems, and its hopes, and destiny. I found something of hesitancy and hu-
mility. He was not over confident that he had cherished the highest hopes
and best convictions. The problems of life had been problems to him.
He had thought much and with conscious sincerity aad honesty. If the
material world has been one of change and advance during the last fifty
years, into which Mr. Esterly threw himself with all his energy, the re-
ligious world has not escaped an almost equal disturbance and change.
If so intense a mind touched religious questions, it could not be in the
quiet traditional way. And yet I do not think his chief interest in these
things was along the line of debate. He would rather fall back upon a
few simple beliefs, trust in the goodness, and love, and guidance of God.
Confidence that there is good in humanity which the Creator is trying to
call forth into the reality of the divine life, and faith in immortality, and
progress hereafter. His mind was anchored on the great religious truths of
christianity, and his hope of the world was in the teaching and living of the
precepts of Christ. Any one, or any church, who was doing Christ's work
in the world would have in Mr. Esterly a friend and helper. His mind and
heart were clear about that. He knew the gospel truth and he revered it.
He believed that whatever was true, and right, and beautiful, was a part of
God’s universe, and ought to be clung to and brought into life by his chil-
dren. He believed that whatever a man sows he reaps; that heaven is not
a going somewhere, so much as the making of life a reproduction of Christ,
the enduring power of personal character gained amid temptation and con-
flict, struggle and victory, sorrow and joy. I feel to-day, just as I always felt
when talking with our friend, that to ask him if he was ready to die, if he
was satisfied and saved, would be a question I had no right to ask such a
man. I believe our faces were both the same way, toward more light.
Which had the most light, or was nearer the fullness of it, was an inquiry to
be met by the Savior's suggestion, “Judge not that ye be not judged.” An-
. other strong man has bowed himself. Another good man has left us. A
very large vacancy has been made. This widow faces a path where she
must walk alone—and yet not alone; the same God—the same yesterday,
to-day, and forever—goes before and on either side. The children lose a
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father upon whom there has been strong leaning. Neighbors say farewell to
a worthy friend and citizen. Like others this man goes to his long home,
and the mourners go about the streets.
“We do not think of him as dead,
Who walks with us no more ;
Along the path of life we tread,
He has but gone before.”
Perhaps if these cold lips could speak back to us, they might give the
message of the old poet, who is represented as sending back the following:
“Faithful friends, it lies I know,
Pale and white, and cold as snow;
And ye say Abdallah's dead
Cease your tears and let it lie,
It was mine, it is not I.
Is but a hut which I am quitting,
Is a garment no more fitting;
'Tis an empty sea shell—one
Out of which the pearl has gone.
The shell is broken, it lies there,
The pearl, the all, the soul is here.
—The man whom ye call dead
Lives and loves you—
Lives a life that never dies.
When ye come where I have stepped
Ye will wonder why ye wept;
Weep awhile, if ye are fain,
Sunshine still must follow rain.
Only not at death—for death,
Now I know, is that first breath
Which our souls draw when we enter life.
Be ye stout of heart, and come
Bravely onward to your home !”
In some such way, when all is said, when business has been spoken of,
when energy has been approved, there remains the question of what the man
was, the husband, the father, the friend, the christian 2
Nothing better can come to us all than the word, “be brave, be true, be
cheerful, live for the highest, the best; live for God, and so come humbly
and bravely on.”