The Painesville Telegraph dated 19 Jan 1871
Augustus Skinner
"Palaces crumble, towers decay,
All earth's greatness dwindles away,
All shall be food for the Ivy at last"
The decease of this old citizen, a brief notice of whose death appeared in our last week's issue, require us, we think, a more extended notice. He was, with the exception of our venerable friend, Franklin Paine, Sr., the oldest continued resident of our township, having made his home continuously on the farm on which he died for 75 years. He came into the country with his father's family, Capt. Abraham Skinner, in March, 1805. They came all the way from their former home, East Hartford, CT, in sleighs, traversing Lake Erie on the ice all the way from Buffalo to near Fairport, and moved into a log cabin on the site of his late home. During that phase of his life, his father built the main frame of the house in which his nephew H. H. Hine now resides, where his father and mother died, and where his funeral services were held and from which last Friday he was borne to his long home. His education after coming to Ohio was principally acquired in Youngstown where he attended school for some time, boarding with his brother-in-law, Homer Hine, attending what was in those days called an excellent select school, in a log building situated where the Soldier's Monument in that city now stands, on the Diamond. He was a great favorite with his associates, from his happy disposition, and from his great fondness for and skill in athletic sports, and particularly as a wrestler, in which he was a generally conceded champion. He was an excellent horseman, a good judge of stock, and for many years was noted for the number and hardy character of his horses. He was a skillful hunter and marksman, and during those early days when game was plenty, always had a liberal supply for his table of venison, wild turkey, ducks and occasional wild geese and swan. He was very successful in trapping wild ducks, at times having in coops as many as three or four hundred which had been taken in nets on grounds he had baited for their capture. He was also very fond of fishing, and successful in their capture. His estate has now promissory notes representing or rather calling for several hundreds of dollars for the sales of fish. He was a great reader, well posted in the politics and news of the day, and very firm and decided in his convictions and opinions. While he was careful and economical in his personal expenses and surroundings for his convenience, there was no one more ready to lend or trust his neighbor, or to assist those who asked him for aid. This trait seemed almost a failing, as it often surrounded him with worthless leeches who made this trait in his character their harvest, and the worthless notes representing thousands of dollars in his possession show that it was far from financial success. He was a very retiring man, and but few got acquainted with him so as to understand him. There was often a vein of dry humor in his remarks that was enjoyable. I remember once being in his house when several men were present who were discussing the beauty and merits of their neighbors. George Hotchkiss was remarking the deficiency of a very worthy lady in the vicinity. Mr. Skinner came in and George said, "Augustus, don't you pity Mrs. P.____, she is so homely that victuals do not taste good to her" George thought her appetite good. "Then I don't pity her, perhaps she might pity you if she saw how many poor day's works you do."
His last shot was about three years since. He had a mother duck with a brood of five just fully grown. He had been watching them for several days for fear some stray sportsman might mistake them for wild ones. That day his housekeeper had caught the mother duck with other old ducks to pick them. He saw the five and thinking them wild birds, took his gun, crept up on them and killed all at one shot. He was so disgusted when he discovered his mistake that he would not pick up his game and no amount of congratulations on his making so good a shot would satisfy him. It was his last shot.
With his declining years he became more and more retiring, passing most of his time in reading or in some mechanical amusement. In the autumn, he had a fall injuring his head, and was dangerously ill for some three weeks, but rallied from that apparently as well as ever; but his second attack without any known cause, was too severe for even his iron constitution. His death seemed easy and peaceful. Those who knew him in his youth and at his best are few and soon will follow him to the Silent Land. He was born July 7th, 1798, died February 25th, 1880, being nearly 82 years of age.