Wisconsin in Story and Song:  ELLA WHEELER WILCOX

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Wisconsin in Story and Song
Selections from the Prose and Poetry of Badger State Writers.

Edited by Charles Ralph Rounds, Head of the Department of English of
the Milwaukee State Normal School and Henry Sherman Hippensteel, Head
of the Department of English and Director of High School Teacher
Training of the Stevens Point Normal School

Publishers:  The Parker Educational Company, Madison, Wisconsin

Copyright, 1916 by the Parker Educational Co., Madison, Wisconsin

Page(s):  72-84



ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

"If you haven't what you like, try to like what you have." In this
quotation is found the philosophy of life during many severe trials of
one whose girlhood and early career as a writer were spent entirely
within the confines of Wisconsin. Ella Wheeler was born at Johnstown
Center, Wisconsin, sometime In the '50's, and the family moved to a
farm near Madison when she was a year old. The discussion of her life
given here is derived quite largely from her own statements in an
article, "My Autobiography," published in the Cosmopolitan magazine
for August, 1901.

Mrs. Wheeler, Ella's mother, was a woman of some literary Inclinations
and was very fond of reading. She loved not only the good society of
books, but she longed also for the pleasures of the social life of a
cultured community such as she had known in her Vermont home. Pioneer
life was especially irksome to her, and she found herself unable to
meet patiently the many hardships that the change of fortune had
brought her, and her attitude in the home was not always buoyant.

Some time after the home was established in Wisconsin, there was born
to these parents their fourth child, Ella, the future poetess. It may
not be too much to say, since Mrs. Wilcox seems to think It herself,
that from the struggles of the father to meet the hardships that his
new life brought him, may have sprung that bit of wholesome philosophy
which stands at the head of this discussion. It is evident that she
found many opportunities to test it to the utmost. From the suppressed
literary desires of the mother may have come the intense longing of
the daughter to achieve helpfulness through writing.

From the standpoint of language training this home was far from
limited, and Ella had opportunities here accorded to the minority of
children even at the present time. She says "My mother was a great
reader of whatever came In her way, and was possessed of a wonderful
memory. The elder children were excellent scholars, and a grammatical
error was treated as a cardinal sin in the household." That EIla
profited from this Inheritance and training may be seen from the
following statements. At school she found the composition exercises
the most delightful of all her school duties. As early as eight she
was excelling in the expression of her thoughts in essay form. By the
age of fourteen she had become the neighborhood celebrity because of
her stories and her poetry. Naturally these pioneer people would
criticise the mother for allowing Ella to scribble so much when she
might have been doing household or farm tasks; but their criticism was
silenced, and they learned to praise her efforts when they found that
there was a market with the magazines and papers for Ella's
"scribblings."

At the age of fourteen Ella Wheeler's education, "excellent in
grammar, spelling and reading, but wretched in mathematics " was
completed so far as the rural school was concerned. Sometime later,
through great sacrifice on the part of her people, she was placed for
one term in the University of Wisconsin. Of this experience she says:
"I was not at all happy there; first because I knew the strain it put
upon the home purse; second, because I felt the gulf between myself
and the town girls, whose gowns and privileges revealed to me for the
first time, the different classes in American social life; and third,
because I wanted to write and did not 'want to study." Thus her school
work ended and her acquisition of knowledge necessary to furnish
details for her emotional poems has been made through her individual
study since the University experience.

Ella Wheeler's struggle to become a writer is one of the most
inspiring stories among Wisconsin writers. A weekly paper came to the
home and besides this there was an old red chest in their upstairs
wherein there was kept the often-read copies of Arabian Nights,
Gulliver's Travels, John Gilpin's Ride, and a few of Shakespeare's
plays. In addition to these, friends had sent the family the New York
Ledger and the New York Mercury. The serial stories of these papers
furnished not only pleasing reading, but models of plots and of forms
of expression which became the guide to her in the art of story
writing.

When Ella was thirteen years old the Mercury ceased to come to her
home, and she regretted the loss of the stories so much that she
determined to write something for the paper with the hope that the
publisher would pay for her article through subscription. After some
delay this brought the much coveted subscription and she says:
"Perhaps the most triumphant and dramatic hour of my life was when I
set forth and announced to the family that my literary work had
procured the coveted Mercury for our united enjoyment."

This experience led her to write extensively for the magazines and
papers, a list of which a University friend had sent her. The articles
which they accepted soon enabled her to supply the home with many
periodicals and books and other articles of home use. She was not
content with writing essays very long, but soon undertook the
production of verse. Her first poem was rejected by the Mercury with
some degree of Scorn, but she soon offered it to other papers and so
continued until she found a publisher. Very frequently some of her
articles would be returned as many as nine times before she found a
publisher.

The Wheeler family were enthusiastic advocates of total abstinence,
and Ella used her pen to advance this cause. Her first collection of
poems into book form was entitled "Drops of Water." A poem with
temperance as its theme is given as the first illustration of her
efforts in the collection published here.

Ella Wheeler's training tended to make her the lyric rather than the
narrative poetess. She wrote largely of the emotion that played
through her passing experiences. . "Everything in life," she says,
"was material for my own emotions, the remarks or experiences of my
comrades and associates, sentences from books I read, and some phases
of Nature." In general three things may be said to characterize these
short poems and her own life as revealed by them, for her life itself
is a poem. First, she is convinced that the supreme thing in life is
love. In one poem she asserts that love is the need of the world. In
another, "The Kingdom of Love," which is given later, she truthfully
proclaims that love is the very essence of the home.

The second characteristic is her spirit of buoyancy which has enabled
her to surmount the many crushing deprivations and disappointments in
her life. She was born with an unquenchable hope and an unfaltering
trust in God and guardian spirits. "I often wept myself to sleep after
a day of disappointment and worries," she says, "but woke in the
morning singing aloud with the joy of life." It was such experiences
as these that enabled her to say: "Laugh and the world laughs with
you; Weep and you weep alone."

Her faith in the better things to be is well expressed in the little
poem, "The Tendril's Fate." Trials to her are frequently the means by
which the soul's true worth is tested. This thought is expressed in
the poem, "Three Friends." She bears trials not merely for her own
sake, but for the sake of those about her. We are illustrating this
quality with the poem "Ambition's Trail." Her faith that life has
still much that is better than the present may be illustrated by her
Morning Prayer.

The third characteristic manifest in her poetry is that of the spirit
of helpfulness that manifests itself in every new phase of life that
she assumes. This attitude is illustrated with respect to mankind in
general and also with respect to her own sex. The poems used are "I
Am" and "Which Are You?"

With love and helpfulness as the bond which unite mankind, Mrs. Wilcox
feels there is no place for strife and warfare. She assails war and
expresses her conviction that womankind shall have much to do with the
final disarmament of nations. She believes implicitly in the mutual
helpfulness of man and woman in solving the great problems of the
world. Her own home life Is one of constant happiness and of constant
useful activity. When asked to express what life means to her she
wrote an article for the Cosmopolitan which began thus "Exhilaration,
anticipation, realization, usefulness, growth these things life has
always meant and is meaning to me. I expected much of life; it has
given, in all ways, more than I -expected. Love has been more loyal
and lasting, friendship :sweeter and more comprehensive, work more
enjoyable, and fame, because of its aid to usefulness, more satisfying
than early imagination pictured." Of one whose ideals of life are so
high the state should be justly proud and its people should ,delight
to hear her sing:

"I know we are building our heaven As we journey along by the way;
Each thought is a nail that is driven In structures that cannot decay,
And the mansion at last shall be given To us as we. build It today."

It was not until after her return from the University that Ella
Wheeler discovered that her poems had a money value. She sent Frank
Leslie's Publishing House three little poems written in one day. These
were accepted and a check sent her for ten dollars. She now bent every
effort towards making her literary efforts return substantial aid to
herself and her family. It was all her own effort and the worth of her
productions that brought her success, for she had no one to aid her in
securing publication. She sent her poems to various magazines, a
practise she still continues. During the years 1912 and 1913, -she had
poems and prose productions listed in the following periodicals:
Current Literature, Everybody's, Good House-keeping, Ladies' Home
Journal, Collier's Magazine, New England Magazine, The Bookman,
Lippincott's, Forum, Cosmopolitan, Musician, Current Opinion, and
Hearst's magazine.

Mrs. Wilcox has attempted only one long narrative poem, "Maurine." In
this she endeavors to set forth the doctrine of what she regards as
the highest type of friendship. Her collections of poems bear the
following titles: Drops of Water, Shells, Poems of Passion, Three
Women, An Ambitious Man, Everyday, Thought in Prose and Verse, Poems
of Pleasure, Kingdom of Love and Other Poems, An Erring Woman's Love,
Men, Women and Emotions, The Beautiful Land of Nod, Poems -of Power,
The Heart of- the New Thought, Sonnets of Abelard and Heloise, Poems
of Experience, Yesterday, Poems of Progress, Maurine, and Poems of
Problems.

Some time after a brief venture in editorial work, she was -married,
1884, to Robert M. Wilcox, a business man of New York City. Their home
life in the city and by the seashore at Granite Bay, Short Beach,
Connecticut, has been most delightful to them. They have been able to
travel extensively -and in this manner to realize many of Mrs.
Wilcox's early dreams. The following poems are from "The Kingdom of
Love" and "Poems of Power."

THE TWO GLASSES

The following Poems of Mrs. Ella Wheeler Wilcox are reprinted here by
permission of the publishers from her copyrighted books, of which W.
D. Conkey Co., Chicago, are the exclusive American publishers.

There sat two glasses filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table, rim to rim.
One was ruddy and red as blood,
And one was clear as the crystal flood.
Said the glass of wine to his paler brother:
"Let us tell tales of the past to each other.
I can tell of a banquet, and revel, and mirth,
Where I was king, for I ruled in might;
For the proudest and grandest souls on earth
Fell under my touch, as though struck with blight.
From the heads of kings I have torn the crown;
From the heights of fame I have hurled men down.
I have blasted many an honored name;
I have taken virtue and given shame;
I have tempted the youth with a sip, a taste,
That has made his future a barren waste.
Far greater than any king am I
Or than any army beneath the sky.
I have made the arm of the driver fail,
And sent the train from the iron rail.
I have made good ships go down at sea,
And the shrieks of the lost were sweet to me.
Fame, strength, wealth, genius before me fall;
And my might and power are over all!
Ho, ho! pale brother," said the wine,
"Can you boast of deeds as great as mine?"

Said the water glass; "
I can not boast
Of a king dethroned, or a murdered host,
But I can tell of hearts that were sad
By my crystal drops made bright and glad;
Of thirst I have quenched, and brows I have laved;
Of hands I have cooled, and souls I have saved.
I have leaped through the valley, and dashed down the mountain,
Slept in the sunshine and dripped from the fountain.
I have burst my cloud-fetters, and dropped from the sky,
And everywhere gladdened the prospects and eye;
I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain;
I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain.
I can tell of the powerful wheel of the mill,
That ground out the flour, and turned at my will,
I can tell of manhood debased by you,
That I have uplifted and crowned anew.
I cheer, I help, I strengthen and aid;
I gladden the hearts of man and maid;
I set the wine-chained captive free,
And all are better for knowing me."

These Eire the tales they told each other,
The glass of wine and its paler brother,
As they sat together, filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table rim to rim.

THE KINGDOM OF LOVE

In the dawn of the day when the sea and the earth
Reflected the sun-rise above,
I set forth with a heart full of courage and mirth
To seek for the Kingdom of Love.
I asked of a poet I met on the way
Which cross-road would lead me aright.
And he said: "Follow me, and ere long you shall see
Its glittering turrets of light."

And soon in the distance the city shone fair.
"Look yonder," he said; "how it gleams!"
But alas! for the hopes that were doomed to despair,
It was only the "Kingdom of Dreams."
Then the next man I asked was a gay cavalier,
And he said: "Follow me, follow me;"
And with laughter and song we went speeding along
By the shores of Life's beautiful sea.

Then we came to a valley more tropical far
Than the wonderful vale of Cashmere,
And I saw from a bower a face like a flower
Smile out on the gay cavalier.
And he said: "We have come to humanity's goal:
Here love and delight are intense."
But alas and alas! for the hopes of my soul
It was only the "Kingdom of Sense."

As I journeyed more slowly I met on the road
A coach with retainers behind. And they said:
"Follow me, for our lady's abode
Belongs in that realm, you will find.
"Twas a grand dame of fashion, a newly-made bride,
I followed encouraged and bold;
But my hopes died away like the last gleams of day,
For we came to the "Kingdom of Gold."

At the door of a cottage I asked a fair maid.
"I have heard of that realm," she replied; "
But my feet never roam from the 'Kingdom of Home,"
So I know not the way," and she sighed.
I looked on the cottage; how restful It seemed!
And the maid was as fair as a dove.
Great light glorified my soul as I cried:
"Why, home is the 'Kingdom of Love.'"

THE TENDRIL'S FATE

Under the snow in the dark and the cold,
A pale little sprout was humming;
Sweetly it sang, 'neath the frozen mold,
Of the beautiful days that were coming.

"How foolish your songs," said a lump of clay,
"What is there," it asked, "to prove them?"
"Just look at the walls between you and the day,
Now have you the strength to move them?"

But under the ice and under the snow,
The pale little sprout kept singing,
"I cannot tell how, but I know, I know,
I know what the days are bringing."
Birds and blossoms and buzzing bees,
Blue, blue skies above me,
Bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees,
And the great glad sun to love me."

A pebble spoke next. "You are quite absurd,"
It said, "with your songs' insistence;
For I never saw a tree or a bird,
So of course there are none in existence."

"But I know, I know," the tendril cried
In beautiful sweet unreason;
Till lo! from its prison, glorified,
It burst in the glad spring season.

THREE FRIENDS

Of all the blessings which my life has known,
I value most, and most praise God for three:
Want, Loneliness, and Pain, those comrades true,

Who masqueraded In the garb of foes
For many a year, and filled my heart with dread.
Yet fickle joy, like false, pretentious friends,
Has proved less worthy than this trio. First,

Want taught me labor, led me up the steep
And toilsome paths to hills of pure delight,
Trod only by the feet that know fatigue,
And yet press on until the heights appear,

Then Loneliness and hunger of the heart
Sent me upreaching to the realms of space,
Till all the silences grew eloquent,
And all their loving forces hailed me friend.

Last, Pain taught prayer! placed in my hand the staff
Of close communion with the over-soul,
That I might lean upon it to the end,
And find myself made strong for any strife.

And then these three who had pursued my steps
Like stern, relentless foes, year after year,
Unmasked, and turned their faces full on me.
And lo! they were divinely beautiful,
For through them shown the lustrous eyes of Love.

AMBITION'S TRAIL

If all the end of this continuous striving
Were simply to attain,
How poor would seem the planning and contriving,
The endless urging and the hurried driving
Of body, heart and brain!

But ever in the wake of true achieving,
There shines this glowing trail
Some other soul will be spurred on, conceiving
New strength and hope, in its own power believing,
Because thou didst not fail.

Not thine alone the glory, nor the sorrow,
If thou dost miss the goal;
Undreamed of lives in many a far to-morrow
From thee their weakness or their force shall borrow
On, on! ambitious soul.

MORNING PRAYER

Let me today do something that shall take
A little sadness from the world's vast store,
And may I be so favored as to make
Of joy's too scanty sum a little more.
Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed
Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend;
Nor would I pass, unseeing, worthy need,
Or sin by silence when I should defend.
However meagre be my worldly wealth
Let me give something that shall aid my kind,
A word of courage, or a thought of help,
Dropped as I pass for troubled hearts to find.
Let me tonight. look back across the span
'Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say
Because of some good act to beast or man
"The world is 'better that I lived today."

I AM

I know not whence I came,
I know not whither I go;
But the fact stands clear that I am here
In this world of pleasure and woe.
And out of the mist and murk
Another truth shines plain:
It is my power each day and hour
To add to its joy or its pain.
I know that the earth exists,
It is none of my business why;
I cannot find out what it's all about,
I would but waste time to try.
My life is a brief, brief thing,
I am here for a little space,
And while I stay I should like, if I may,
To brighten and better the place.

The trouble, I think, with us all
Is the lack of a high conceit.
If each man thought he was sent to this spot
To make it a bit more sweet,
How soon we could gladden the world,
How easily right all wrong,
If nobody shirked, and each one worked
 To help his fellows along.

Cease wondering why you came
Stop looking for faults and flaws,
Rise up today In your pride and say,
"I am a part of the First Great Cause!
However full the world,
There is room for an earnest man.
It had need of me or I would not be-
I am here to strengthen the plan.

WHICH ARE YOU?

There are two kinds of people on earth today;
Just two kinds of people, no more, I say.

Not the sinner and saint, for 'tis well understood,
The good are half bad, and the bad are half good.

Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man's wealth,
You must first know the state of his conscience and health.

Not the humble and proud, for in life's little span,
Who puts on vain airs, is not counted a man.

Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying years
Bring each man his laughter and each man his tears.

No; the kinds of people on earth I mean,
Are the people who lift and the people who lean,

Wherever you go, you will find the earth's masses
Are always divided in just these two classes.

And, oddly enough, you will find too, I ween,
There's only one lifter to twenty who lean.

In which class are you? Are you easing the load
Of overtaxed lifters, who toil down the road?

Or are you a leaner, who lets others share
Your portion of labor, and worry and care.