Elwood Christ
Ah, yes, with the
approach of February 14,
a man's fancy turns to
the pursuit of the
"fairer sex." So for St.
Valentine's Day, take
heart of a story from
1830s Gettysburg.
Our dashing young blade
was Herman. In 1881, he
wrote that he "became an
inhabitant of this
sublunary sphere" on
March 26, 1817, in
Philadelphia, the City
of Brotherly Love. In
his youth, he "gained
the reputation of being
smart but decidedly
mischievous, having an
irresistible propensity
to climb out windows and
run over neighbor's
roof-tops." His parents
did not spare the rod in
disciplining Herman,
which he said,
"contributed to making
me temporarily, if not
permanently smart."
Indeed, Herman was
smart; he gained
admission to West Point
at the age of 14 years,
graduated in 1835, and
worked a year for a
railroad line near
Philadelphia before
being "appointed
Principal Assistant in
the service of the State
of Pennsylvania, with
headquarters at
Gettysburg" at the age
of 19.
Herman recalled his
early days in
Gettysburg: "I attended
to my duties closely,
and had but little
fondness for society,
parties I detested and
avoided; I formed no
acquaintances among the
ladies, and resisted all
efforts by them to draw
me into company." Herman
recalled one summer
evening "at the
principle hotel," where
"I was ushered into a
parlor and presented to
about twenty young
ladies. It was too late
to run… I was trotted up
and down the street all
evening, and compelled
to promise to join a
picnic…." At that
picnic, Herman met a
daughter of the Rev.
Benjamin Keller, Anna
Cecilia. Their
"acquaintance" continued
for several months. One
day Herman escorted a
wedding party to York
accompanied by Cecilia,
who was the guest of the
Rev. Dr. John George
Schmucker. That evening,
when Cecilia did not
attend a
"prayer-meeting," Herman
searched high and low
for her to no avail. He
returned to Dr.
Schmucker's home to find
her safe. Herman
"inquired coldly" at
what hour the next day
they would return to
Gettysburg.
On the journey home, it
rained, and the showers
drenched them; for
Herman's rig, "an open
buggy," and the umbrella
he carried provided
little cover. He glanced
over at Cecilia,
described by Herman as
being "much admired …
complexion extremely
fair with cheeks full
and rosy," and with a
"dove-like" disposition.
She was crying. "Water
is a solvent, and…it
dissolved anger and
opened lips." She
explained what had
happened. "These
explanations
extinguished the last
traces of resentment;
tongues were loosened
and confidence restored.
We became oblivious to
the storm…." Within a
few miles, in pouring
rain, Herman proposed.
Cecilia answered, "Wait
until we reach that big
stump in the road on the
top of the hill, and
then I will tell you…."
After waiting a year,
Cecilia and Herman were
married on August 30,
1838; they were blessed
with 11 children and 53
years of marriage before
she died in 1891.
Herman's last name was
Haupt, and after
establishing his Oak
Ridge Select Academy and
teaching mathematics at
Gettysburg College, he
went on to operate the
Union military railroads
during the Civil War and
wrote numerous books on
engineering and bridges.
He died of a heart
attack in 1905.
Do you
know of an individual who helped shape the Adams County?
If so, send their story to us at: History@myGettysburg.net
Read More articles by Elwood Christ