OBITUARY: Jessie Lee James Whitney, 25 Mar 1880 - Smith County, TX Submitted by Vicki Betts 21 Sep 2002 Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm ***************************************************************** TEXAS CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE, April 10, 1880, p. 7, c. 1 Jessie Lee James, wife of J. P. Whitney and daughter of Col. Taliaferro and Fannie James, died at the residence of her parents in the city of Tyler, Smith county, Texas, March 25, 1880; aged eighteen years four months and six days. On Wednesday night, February 11, 1880, just six weeks before her death, full of all sweet hopes and bright with innocent beauty, she stood at the hymeneal altar and gave to her now grief-stricken husband her heart with all its love and trust. On Wednesday night, four weeks after her nuptials, she was taken sick; and on Wednesday night, two weeks afterward, ere the honeymoon of her marital joys had reached maturity, it was eclipsed in death, and her suffering mortality was disfurnished of its immortality; and with the aroma of the bridal wreath still odorous upon her brow, she steps from the bridal altar to the tomb. "Surely death loves a shining mark," and is inexorable and unfeeling in his demands; for the fairest flower he is sure to cull. By the many perfections of character of the deceased, such as noble impulses, sterling virtues, and social qualities, she had ensconced herself into the esteem and affections of the older members of society, and was the center of attraction to those of her own age in the social circle. At the age of fourteen she bowed at the same altar at which she stood on the evening of her nuptials, and at the hands of Rev. R. S. Finley was received into the Methodist Church by the sacrament of baptism and a profession of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as her Savior; and up to the time of her demise none were more punctual in their attendance at the preaching of the Word and the social meetings of the church than she. From early childhood she was a member of the Sunday-school, and excelled as a leader of its beautiful songs. Proficient in the science of music and artistic in its execution, she ever was found willing and delighted in consecrating its ministries to God's altar, and thought it no sacrifice to fill the corridors of the sanctuary with sweetest melody, thereby breaking its monotony with its kindling enthusiasm, and touching the best feelings, rebuking the sins and confirming the virtues of the many who congregated around her. But the shadow of death is now around the church altar, where she oftimes ministered, and its cold desolations have come between the bereaved husband, father and mother, and the one that was and is not. And the sorrowing ones have wondered oft why such tender relationships are woven to be shattered, and such deep wells of love opened in the human heart only to overflow with tears. Ah! It is because humanity is not an earthly flower that blooms, fades and is no more, but it is an undying germ that can not reach ultimate perfection until it is encoffined in the tomb, and its rootlets are anchored there. May the thoughts of those for whom she is now waiting, as they scatter the sweet blossoms of balmy spring above her grave, and hang wreaths of exotics upon her broken urn, grow fragrant with the recollections of her virtues, and amidst the mystery of the dispensations, may the faith and hope of a resurrection inspire them to patiently watch and wait for a reunion. "Angels, let the ransomed stranger In your tender care be blessed; Hoping, trusting, safe from danger, 'Till the trumpet end her rest— 'Till the trump which shakes creation, Through the circling heavens shall roll, 'Till the day of consummation; 'Till the bridal of the soul." U. B. Philips. Tyler, Texas, Marcy 17, 1880 TEXAS CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE, April 10, 1880, p. 7, c. 1 Whitney—O Death, Thou Art Cruel! was the involuntary exclamation when the sad intelligence of the death of Mrs. Jessie Whitney reached us on yesterday. She was the daughter of my very dear friend and brother, Colonel T. James, of Tyler, and the young and beautiful bride of Mr. Whitney, of that city. They had been married only about six weeks. Their nuptials were celebrated in the Methodist church by the pastor in the midst of a large assembly, a profusion of congratulations, merry hearts, flowers and exhilarating music. All were happy, and many wishes of long life and happy days baptized the union of the hearts and hands of the fair, lovely couple. Jessie was a fair, lovely child. We received her into the church when she was a child, and baptized her at the altar where she gave to Mr. Whitney her hand. A circumstance connected with her baptism impressed us. Her father, though a member of our church—having come from a church which practiced exclusive immersion—wished Jessie to join, but preferred that her baptism might be delayed, and so stated. But at the invitation Jessie, with others, reverently knelt at the altar. We asked her if she wished baptism then and there. She replied, yes. When the father saw it, he said: "Baptize her." We baptized her and was her pastor for four years afterward. She developed into woman gracefully and rapidly, increasing in dignity, womanly grace, beauty and influence. She was the light of her father's house, the delight of many doting friends, and more recently the idol of him to whom she had pledged her heart and hand in love for life. The church organ, which gave out its mellow sounds under her magic touch for years—accompanied by her sweet voice in holy worship— will be a solemn remembrance to the worshipers of the sweet spirited Jessie, who has exchanged—we trust—the organ for a harp. The full-blown flower of a day has been nipped by the untimely frost of death! How gladly would we condole with the stricken parents and crushed husband and bereft church. But, alas! how worthless and poverty-stricken is condolence in such a case. "Earth has no sorrow But heaven can release." To that we tearfully direct the eyes and hopes of these bleeding hearts. F.