The Aristocrat of Tramp Printers
Perhaps the most famous and most colorful of traveling printers back in
the days when all type was
set by hand, was Colonel Ike Busby. Some of these printers were called
"tramp printers,"
"printers on the move." They were never long in one place; some were
shiftless and could not be
relied upon. Col. Busby was a good printer, smart as a whip and was a
welcome visitor at printing
offices in the smaller towns.
Col. Busby
is buried in the Richland Center cemetery and perhaps there are less
than two dozen
persons living in Richland Center today who ever seen or heard of
him. He made infrequent visits
the city in the days long gone. He came to visit his sister, Mrs.
F. P. Bowen, and his brother Harry.
He mingled but little with the citizens of the town, spent the
greater share of his time at the
newspaper offices reading the exchanges and daily papers, or at his
sister's home reading rare books.
He was well posted on all subjects. He wore a high plug hat and
carried a gold headed umbrella.
Mr. Busby
was born in Sparta, New York, and started to learn the printers trade
in Angelica,
New York, when he was 16 and began his life as a "wandering journalist"
some three years later.
He came to Wisconsin, worked on daily papers in Milwaukee, the
Sentinel being one of them. About
1856 he was located at Beaver Dam when troubleous times commenced in
the south and spread to Kansas.
Men from New England, the middle west, all upholders of the
starry banner of the free, hurried to
Kansas where the south was sending the slave holding element to contest
with freedom for the mastery.
Mr. Busby was one of these who went to Kansas in 1856 to help made it a
free state.
Meets John Brown
In company
with other kindred spirits he fitted out a couple of "prairie
schooners" and set sail for
"bleeding Kansas." The party landed at Lawrence, in Douglas county, the
mecca of all Free
State men then going into the territory. Here he formed the
acquaintance of John Brown who became
known far and wide in song and story. You have heard of him through the
song which went something
like this: "John Brown's body lies a moulding in the grave, but his
soul goes marching on," or
"We'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree;
We'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree
We'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree
While his soul goes marching on."
Busby was
on the firing line with Brown, slept with him under the same blanket
when history was rapidly
being made. In those times it was necessary for printers in Lawrence to
keep their long-barreled rifles
leaning against their type cases.
At the
outbreak of the Civil War, Busby joined the 1st Kansas volunteers. He
participated in the battle
of Wilson Creek and was a member of the bodyguard of General McPherson
when the general was
killed before Atlanta. He served four years in the war and was
appointed major of the regiment in 1864
by the governor of Kansas. At the close of the war he was breveted
lieutenant colonel by President Johnson.
Following the Civil War Col. Busby took up his printer's stick, donned
his silk plug hat, his broadcloth
suit and took to the highways, making the rounds of newspaper offices.
He denied being a tramp printer,
saying he either paid his way or walked, wherever he went. Nor would he
mingle with the tramp printers,
holding himself aloof. But the members of the wanderers
fraternity claimed him as one of their own,
conceding that he was an aristocrat of the nomads. He would stop on his
travels at country churches
to deliver a sermon or a lecture. One of the noteworthy incidents of
his career as a traveling printer
occured at the time of the death of President Garfield. He had drifted
into the office of a small Indiana weekly
just before the paper was ready to go to press. He noted no editorial
expression upon the death of the
president, went to the printer's case and set in type an editorial that
was copied by leading papers and
magazines throughout the United States.
His visits
to Richland Center were not frequent. He would come to town, go to the
home of his sister
Mrs. Bowen, and to the home of his brother. Most every day during
his stay in Richland Center he
would visit the newspaper offices. His stay in town would vary from a
week to two weeks at which time he
would again take to the road. He never announced his coming or going;
just disappeared, to be absent for
several months.
There was
one man in Richland Center of whom he often spoke and would inquire
about when he came to
town. The man was A. B. Weigley, who for many years conducted a store
here. Mr. Weigley, a likeable
gentleman, was one of those old time merchants who "kept store" in the
smaller towns and endeared
themselves to the general public. Ike's relatives often wondered why he
should inquire about Mr. Weigley;
but Ike was close lipped in all his affairs but his relatives came to
the conclusion that the reason was because
Mr. Weigley, like Ike, wore a tall plug hat, an exact duplicate of the
one worn by Mr. Busby. The later years
of Mr. Weigley's life were not easy ones. Misfortune overtook him and
finally his plug hat, one of his prize
possessions of his life in the days of prosperity, wore out and he was
unable to buy another one.
Mr. Busby
had passed on some years previous and his high silk, plug hat, in
perfect condition, was presented
to A. B. and life for him was again at high tide and he again appeared
upon the streets and at his regular
haunts about the town all dressed up. The hat gave Mr. Weigley much
confidence and restored some of the
pleasure lost. When Mr. Weigley, passed on he still had the high silk
hat in his possession and all was well with
the world.
Mr.
Busby's wanderings took him to Forest City, Minnesota, in 1906 and
while employed by the Winnebago
County Republican he wrote an article which was published in that paper
July 4, 1906, and was probably
the last he ever wrote. From that article a bit of the material for
this story was taken.
Then came
the day in the summer when he paid another visit to the city. He
sickened while here and
entered a hospital in Madison where he died on October 19, 1906. Col.
Busby is buried in the Richland Center
cemetery, where his grave is marked by a simple G.A.R. emblem. Perhaps
his soul, like that of his friend,
John Brown, goes marching on. Taps were sounded for Col. Isaac Busby
and he was laid to rest on the same
lot with his brother, Harry.
Harry Busby
Harry
Busby, brother of Col. Ike, was also a native of the state of New York.
He was, according to all
reports, a friendly, jolly fellow, made friends rapidly; a home loving
man with a good word for one and all.
He too, was a Civil War veteran.
Harry
Busby came to Richland Center in 1871. He was a painter by trade but
soon operated a livery stable.
In November of 1880 he was elected as sheriff of the county over John
Shaffer, receiving 2,407 votes while
Mr. Shaffer received 1,542. He began his term in January 1881, made a
good officer but death cut his term
short a year later. W. S. C. Barron was appointed to fill the vacancy
and in 1882 A. D. Lane was elected.
Harry
Busby was a man everyone respected. One of his favorite expressions
when speaking of children
was "the little devil." It was the "little devil" this, the "little
devil' that; the "little devil needs a new pair
of shoes" or "little devil wants some candy." Mr. Busby was a general
favorite of all the children in the town
and they all had great respect for him. Lawbreakers learned to keep
their distance, as Mr. Busby, a
peaceful man, was not to be fooled with when it came to enforcing the
law. Events moved smoothly for
Sheriff Busby. He had served a full year of his two year term. Then
came the night in January
1882**.
A play was being staged at Krouskop's hall on the second floor of the
Krouskop building, a magnificent
structure which stood on the corner of Central avenue and West Seminary
streets, now occupied by the
Eskin theater. It was a two story building, the lower floor housed the
A. H. Krouskop store. This building
was destroyed by fire January 28, 1883.
The play
mentioned above was attended by a large audience, Sheriff Busby being
in attendance. In the play
one of the actors, a child, was playing the part of a very sick person;
the show was drawing to a close when
Sheriff Busby turned to the person sitting next to him and said "the
little devil is going to die." With those
words upon his lips he half rose from the chair and pitched to
the floor, dead.
Thus came
to an end the life of Harry Busby. On the government marker upon his
grave in the city cemetery
are carved these words
HARRY BUSBY
HOSPITAL STWD
42nd N.Y. INFT.
S.F
** Research shows that Harrison
"Harry" BUSBY died February 20, 1882, NOT January/1882!