Obituary for John Roots, b. 1811 Halling, Kent, England s/o Thomas Roots & Jane Holland; d. 1895 Nemaha Co. KS
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Obituary for John Roots, b. 1811 Halling, Kent, England s/o Thomas Roots & Jane Holland; d. 1895 Nemaha Co. KS
| Kim Baker (View posts) | Posted: 16 Mar 2006 4:05AM GMT |
Classification: Query
OBITUARY.
Jno. Roots was born Feb. 1, 1811, in the town of Hawlin [Halling], near Rochester, Kent, England. He was the son of Thomas and Jane Roots, both of Hawlin. Our friend John was their second child and the eldest of four brothers who were all farmers, he also had three sisters of whom he always spoke in loving and affectionate terms. He was born [married] to Hanna Durrant on the 15th of Nov. 1830, who bore him seven children. Mrs. Roots was a native of Dorking in the county of Surry and moved with her parents to the city of Rochester, and in her 20th year was married to John Roots in the Parish church of Chatham, also in the county of Kent. There they toiled along until July 1853, having now seven children, and she began to council with her husband as to their future prospects and finally agreed to let him leave her and his native land to search out a home acorss the blue Atlantic. Her self-denying confidence in her husband was after a few years rewarded with a home of comfort. None but those who have left all their kith and kin and crossed the treacherous deep, can appreciate the sterling worth of such a woman. In October, 1889, she was called home and the children of men gathered about her tomb, moistening the sod with sympathizing tears of gratitude for the many deeds of kindness wrought by her whom they had brought to lay at rest.
After their marriage they left Chathan {Chatham]and lived in Hawlin [Halling], where all of his seven children were born; until, like thousand of others of his countrymen, seeing little prospect of the prosperity necessary for the maintenance of a growing family in England, he determined to seek a home in the west, where he could enjoy the fruits of his own labor, as well as the assistance of his brave heroic boys. How well he performed his duty with them, all who have known him can bear witness. John Roots was a manly man, stern yet compassionate, courageous but sympathetic, vigorous yet patient. He was strong yet tender. He was an affectionate husband, a kind father, a benevolent neighbor and an honest citizen, and we shall feel his loss. But though we are now compelled to bid him an everlasting goodbye, it is consoling to know his name has been engraved on the hearts of men by his many deeds of kindness, so that his memory will live with us until we too shall be called upon to pay the last debt of nature, and, like him, be consigned to the silent tomb. Who is there who knew our deprted friend that has not at some time partaken of his generous hospitality? It would be an idle in me to attempt to analyze his character, or repeat the story of his life, whoch has been lived in your midst and is well known. His early discipline was in the stern but healthful school of poverty; of the wonderful power of endurance, the vigor, the bold prudence and forethought, his deeds bear testimony and give a graphic point to an observation made by himsela a few years ago as he felt his strength fast ebbing away. We were walking over his farm. He said "Fuller, I can't do much now, but I can get pleasure to walk around and look at what I have done." Grand old friend, you have lived well your allotted time, and the shaft of death at length has taken you for its mark, who can predict where it will next strike. We who are left continue to tread the declining path of life, and the shadows fall behind us, while the good and true sink in death before our eyes. In this narrow tomb lines one of the boldest though humble champions of the oppressed, the sternest for of oppression. His sympathies knew no lines of creed condition or race, but were broad as humanity. His integrity was untarnished. With plain, simple, frugal habits, his uniform kindness will be cherished in grateful remembrance by us to the end of life. And it was this desire to befriend the helpless, to sustain the oppressed and to lift the lowly that more than anything else abridged his means and usefulness. 'Tis true John Roots was without an education save that gained by the ways of men, had he been an educated man his voice would have been heard in the councils of the nation. The death of such men as this, though it come in the very last hour of a long and useful life, must always be attended with regret, because the stimulus of their presence is lost to the community. And yet occasions like these furnish not only opportunities to commemorate the virtues and services of the dead, but of instruction to the livi8ng, by calling attention to their characteristics, and qualities that have made the lives of the departed useful and memorable. Every human life bears with it a lesson, sometimes an example but always a lesson, and therefore it is proper on an occasion like the present, that we repeat the history and lesson of the life that hs gone thatit may live in what it has accompl;ished, worth of the respect of men. John Roots came from a sturdy English stock, possessing that stubborn tenacity of purpose, unyielding will so peculiar to those people. Naturally he was a genius and chivalrous man; but in the troubled times of Kansas and during the rebellion all his sympathies were with the oppressed and he sent all his boys to the field who were old enough to bear arms, providing for his remaining family, unaided and alone in a lonely and thinly inhabited country, made more so by the absence of those he loved so well. During these troubled times he was equal to the requirements of the hour. When ruffians invaded the rights of a free soil, he was there to assist in defending invilable the sacred trust left in his care by those who had gone to pay the price of them with their blood. How oft have I listened while he recounted the heroic deeds performed in the defense of lbierty at home near the fireside, and but for such as him, who gave inspiration to the faltering masses, the galling chains of slavery might still be cling to the listless form of outraged liberty. Amid the scenes of tumult and popular excitement and the seething conflicts of opinion, he was a master spirit, ferless and immoveable. he could not be diverted from his purpose by intimidation or execration on the one hand or by cajolery or blandishment on the other. His position was never one of doubt. He was always at the front with ringing voice ever ready to fight in defense for what he believed to be right. He was outspoken and honest. He never fawned that thrift might follow - was without a shadow of hypocrisy. He was a stead-friend in his personal relationas and an uncompromising enemy to craft and dissimilation. None but those who knew him best can so well appreciate his worth and the bereavement his departure has occasioned. The arm so often raised to strike is now nerveless, the flashing eye is closed, the stalwart form is prostrate, an all-conquering death has sealed the lips once eloquent to maintain and defend the right.
Slumbering in silent death lives here all that remains of our once loved friend. How charming to know and feel you have a sterling friend. He who knows not friendship is devoid of the greatest delight of earth and lies in a bleak and barren waste cold and cheerless. Those who feel not the loss of a friend have never known the possession of one. Herein lies the emotion of pain with the best and wisest of men can not escape; which all have felt or must feel sooner or later, the loss of our dearest friend. The fond father or loving mother whose tender care has trained our youthful mind; the brother or sister who partook of life from the same fountain, nourishment at the same breast, nestled in the same bosom, who was sheltered by the same roof, with whom we grew as flowers together gaining strength from the same sun; the childres whose joys give us delight as their opening mind and understanding give us a fixed hope; the friend with whom we chose to exchange hearts and share our pleasures and pains. Whose eye has returned the sympathetic tear and smoothed the bed of sickness with a tender hand. Here my friends is the pain that wounds and lascerates the soul. This is pain indeed. Shall it be counted unworthy to give expression to grief at a time like this. . . .
AT THE GRAVE.
Sleep in peace, thou good and faithful friend. Gently take him to thy bosom O Mother Earth, and when thou hast softly veiled with thy mantle all that remains of our friend, let not his virtues be obscured thereby, but permit them to shine through thy somber robe to give consolation and pleasant memories to those who are left to mourn his loss. Good-bye, kind friend, good-bye.
(My third great-grandfather)
Jno. Roots was born Feb. 1, 1811, in the town of Hawlin [Halling], near Rochester, Kent, England. He was the son of Thomas and Jane Roots, both of Hawlin. Our friend John was their second child and the eldest of four brothers who were all farmers, he also had three sisters of whom he always spoke in loving and affectionate terms. He was born [married] to Hanna Durrant on the 15th of Nov. 1830, who bore him seven children. Mrs. Roots was a native of Dorking in the county of Surry and moved with her parents to the city of Rochester, and in her 20th year was married to John Roots in the Parish church of Chatham, also in the county of Kent. There they toiled along until July 1853, having now seven children, and she began to council with her husband as to their future prospects and finally agreed to let him leave her and his native land to search out a home acorss the blue Atlantic. Her self-denying confidence in her husband was after a few years rewarded with a home of comfort. None but those who have left all their kith and kin and crossed the treacherous deep, can appreciate the sterling worth of such a woman. In October, 1889, she was called home and the children of men gathered about her tomb, moistening the sod with sympathizing tears of gratitude for the many deeds of kindness wrought by her whom they had brought to lay at rest.
After their marriage they left Chathan {Chatham]and lived in Hawlin [Halling], where all of his seven children were born; until, like thousand of others of his countrymen, seeing little prospect of the prosperity necessary for the maintenance of a growing family in England, he determined to seek a home in the west, where he could enjoy the fruits of his own labor, as well as the assistance of his brave heroic boys. How well he performed his duty with them, all who have known him can bear witness. John Roots was a manly man, stern yet compassionate, courageous but sympathetic, vigorous yet patient. He was strong yet tender. He was an affectionate husband, a kind father, a benevolent neighbor and an honest citizen, and we shall feel his loss. But though we are now compelled to bid him an everlasting goodbye, it is consoling to know his name has been engraved on the hearts of men by his many deeds of kindness, so that his memory will live with us until we too shall be called upon to pay the last debt of nature, and, like him, be consigned to the silent tomb. Who is there who knew our deprted friend that has not at some time partaken of his generous hospitality? It would be an idle in me to attempt to analyze his character, or repeat the story of his life, whoch has been lived in your midst and is well known. His early discipline was in the stern but healthful school of poverty; of the wonderful power of endurance, the vigor, the bold prudence and forethought, his deeds bear testimony and give a graphic point to an observation made by himsela a few years ago as he felt his strength fast ebbing away. We were walking over his farm. He said "Fuller, I can't do much now, but I can get pleasure to walk around and look at what I have done." Grand old friend, you have lived well your allotted time, and the shaft of death at length has taken you for its mark, who can predict where it will next strike. We who are left continue to tread the declining path of life, and the shadows fall behind us, while the good and true sink in death before our eyes. In this narrow tomb lines one of the boldest though humble champions of the oppressed, the sternest for of oppression. His sympathies knew no lines of creed condition or race, but were broad as humanity. His integrity was untarnished. With plain, simple, frugal habits, his uniform kindness will be cherished in grateful remembrance by us to the end of life. And it was this desire to befriend the helpless, to sustain the oppressed and to lift the lowly that more than anything else abridged his means and usefulness. 'Tis true John Roots was without an education save that gained by the ways of men, had he been an educated man his voice would have been heard in the councils of the nation. The death of such men as this, though it come in the very last hour of a long and useful life, must always be attended with regret, because the stimulus of their presence is lost to the community. And yet occasions like these furnish not only opportunities to commemorate the virtues and services of the dead, but of instruction to the livi8ng, by calling attention to their characteristics, and qualities that have made the lives of the departed useful and memorable. Every human life bears with it a lesson, sometimes an example but always a lesson, and therefore it is proper on an occasion like the present, that we repeat the history and lesson of the life that hs gone thatit may live in what it has accompl;ished, worth of the respect of men. John Roots came from a sturdy English stock, possessing that stubborn tenacity of purpose, unyielding will so peculiar to those people. Naturally he was a genius and chivalrous man; but in the troubled times of Kansas and during the rebellion all his sympathies were with the oppressed and he sent all his boys to the field who were old enough to bear arms, providing for his remaining family, unaided and alone in a lonely and thinly inhabited country, made more so by the absence of those he loved so well. During these troubled times he was equal to the requirements of the hour. When ruffians invaded the rights of a free soil, he was there to assist in defending invilable the sacred trust left in his care by those who had gone to pay the price of them with their blood. How oft have I listened while he recounted the heroic deeds performed in the defense of lbierty at home near the fireside, and but for such as him, who gave inspiration to the faltering masses, the galling chains of slavery might still be cling to the listless form of outraged liberty. Amid the scenes of tumult and popular excitement and the seething conflicts of opinion, he was a master spirit, ferless and immoveable. he could not be diverted from his purpose by intimidation or execration on the one hand or by cajolery or blandishment on the other. His position was never one of doubt. He was always at the front with ringing voice ever ready to fight in defense for what he believed to be right. He was outspoken and honest. He never fawned that thrift might follow - was without a shadow of hypocrisy. He was a stead-friend in his personal relationas and an uncompromising enemy to craft and dissimilation. None but those who knew him best can so well appreciate his worth and the bereavement his departure has occasioned. The arm so often raised to strike is now nerveless, the flashing eye is closed, the stalwart form is prostrate, an all-conquering death has sealed the lips once eloquent to maintain and defend the right.
Slumbering in silent death lives here all that remains of our once loved friend. How charming to know and feel you have a sterling friend. He who knows not friendship is devoid of the greatest delight of earth and lies in a bleak and barren waste cold and cheerless. Those who feel not the loss of a friend have never known the possession of one. Herein lies the emotion of pain with the best and wisest of men can not escape; which all have felt or must feel sooner or later, the loss of our dearest friend. The fond father or loving mother whose tender care has trained our youthful mind; the brother or sister who partook of life from the same fountain, nourishment at the same breast, nestled in the same bosom, who was sheltered by the same roof, with whom we grew as flowers together gaining strength from the same sun; the childres whose joys give us delight as their opening mind and understanding give us a fixed hope; the friend with whom we chose to exchange hearts and share our pleasures and pains. Whose eye has returned the sympathetic tear and smoothed the bed of sickness with a tender hand. Here my friends is the pain that wounds and lascerates the soul. This is pain indeed. Shall it be counted unworthy to give expression to grief at a time like this. . . .
AT THE GRAVE.
Sleep in peace, thou good and faithful friend. Gently take him to thy bosom O Mother Earth, and when thou hast softly veiled with thy mantle all that remains of our friend, let not his virtues be obscured thereby, but permit them to shine through thy somber robe to give consolation and pleasant memories to those who are left to mourn his loss. Good-bye, kind friend, good-bye.
(My third great-grandfather)