Colonial Families and Their Descendants
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
M= w= VI= Z^r (A in Id v o>i ff (9 VV- I I = IL S o 0 00= a iv a «o = I] S !? v 0. X »*E **E *»= 6» = »*5= COLONIAL FAMILIES AND THEIR DESCENDANTS . BY ONE OF THE OLDEST GRADUATES OF ST. MARY'S HALL/BURLI^G-TiON-K.NlfJ.fl*f.'< " The first female Church-School established In '*>fOn|tSe<|;, rSJatesi-, which has reached its sixty-firstyear, and canj'pwß^vwffit-^'" pride to nearly one thousand graduates. ; founder being the great Bishop "ofBishop's^, ¦* -¦ ; ;% : GEORGE WASHINGTON .DOANE;-D^D];:)a:i-B?':i^| BALTIMORE: * PRESS :OF THE.SUN PRINTING OFFICE, ¦ -:- - -"- '-** - '__. -1900. -_ COLONIAL FAMILIES AND THEIR DESCENDANTS , BY ONE OF THE OLDEST GRADUATES OF - ST. MARY'S HALL, BURLINGTON, N. J. " The first female Church-School established in the United.States, which has reached its sixty-first year, and can point with ; pride to nearly one thousand graduates. Its.noble „* _ founder being the great Bishop ofBishops," GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE, D.D., LL.D: :l BALTIMORE: PRESS "OF THE SUN PRINTING OFFICE, igOO. Dedication, .*«•« CTHIS BOOK is affectionately and respectfully dedicated to the memory of the Wright family of Maryland and South America, and to their descendants now livingwho inherit the noble virtues of their forefathers, and are a bright example to "all"for the same purity of character "they"possessed. Those noble men and women are now in sweet repose, their example a beacon light to those who "survive" them, guiding them on in the path of "usefulness and honor," " 'Tis mine the withered floweret most to prize, To mourn the music flown, the odor shed, And in the hallowed tomb of ''buried" love To twine life's best affections 'round the dead." INDEX PAGE Introductory Remarks, xi Chapter I, - i Chapter 11, 14 Chapter 111, - 20 Chapter IV, 25 Chapter V, 45 Chapter VI, 54 Chapter VII, 67 Chapter VIII, -74 Chapter IX, -- 81 Chapter X, 90 Chapter XI, --..99 Chapter XII, 103 Chapter XIII, -- -in Chapter XIV, - 119 Chapter XV, 126 Chapter XVI, 131 Chapter XVII, 139 Chapter XVIII, 150 Chapter XIX, 158 Chapter XX, 164 Chapter XXI, 174 Chapter XXII, 184 Chapter XXIV, 200 Chapter XXV, 218 Conclusion, -...-...-. 238 ILLUSTRATIONS. — — i—Frontispiece Mary Burke Emory. 2—Mr.John Spencer Wright. 3 —Mr. Stephen Collins Wright. 4— Mr. Benjamin Nicholson Wright. s—Miss5 Miss Sallie Harris 6—George Washington Doane, D.D., LL D 7—"Reed's" Creek."" 8——" Blakeford in" Winter. 9 — Slippery Hill io Mr.Jonathan Dickinson Sergeant. ii—"— bloomingdale." 12— ""Peace and Plenty." 13 Bloomfield." t4——"St. Mary's Hall." 15 —Dr. Christopher Christian Cox. 16—Bishop WilliamCroswell Doane. 17 "Cedar Grove." INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. Itmay be asked why Ihave undertaken the publication" of a book. Ihave no ambition to place myself among" the literati "of the world,ifIcould do so. Itis not for "fame" that lam writing, for" Icannot boast of using the pen of a Felicia Hemans" or a Hannah More," nor do Ifeel important enough to endeavor to associate myself withothers who may even enjoy more celebrity than the two" beautiful writers" Ihave named. Myheart is yearn ing for a resting place inmy declining life, and ifIcan secure itby the use ofmy pen, why not ? To possess again a quiet home of my own, will,indeed, mend the broken threads of life and weave them afresh, into a tissue of brightness, withthe stars for my night-lamp" and the leaves of the woodland to fan me to sleep. Itmay be a tent in the wild-wood, a home in the vale," so that Ican call it" mine own, where gentle, kindwords will greet me and Imay deck my hair withroses rare that grow on the gentle hills,"in the region of wildflowers, where healthful breezes blow, and the gaudy butterflies lightgently on the edge of a coolrivulet that may happen to flow along, and the violet peer out from beneath the moist turfon its edge. Ah!yes — "There's music inthe wild-wood. With leaves and blossoms fair." — The pretty pink laurel the modest little wax flowers have a charm for me.' "Inthe' beautiful valleys that nature has formed there are a thousand hidden retreats fortender sighs, an asylum for a broken heart, a grave-yard for buried pleasures." Ithas now been three years— since one of the greatest afflic tions of my lifecame upon me the loss of a beautiful old home,— a lovely, tranquil spot, the walls bare and mildewed now the capacious old fireplaces, where once cheerful, sparkling flames brightened the rooms and inmates, filledwith crumbling bricks XII INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. and ashes. Ah,me !the thought of its loss brings an irrepressible pang to my sorrowing heart. Icannot stillits beating. " No friend" came" around me to cheer me, No parent to soften my grief, Nor brother, nor sister were near me. And strangers could bring no relief." — — Alas!ithas gone my beautiful, happy horne where Ihave lived "so long," tending my little flock of eleven, caring for their every want, and devoting my lifeto their service. My dear old home was a generous gift from a noble grand father, who so often took me on his knee, to imprint a good-night kiss upon my youthful forehead, "before retiring to a restful pillow he had ordered his housemaid, Emmeline," to prepare forme in the littlecrib,in the best chamber of his comfortable home. My sister and Iwere orphan children, and my grandfather often" and over again told us that the old home was to be ours. Bloom field," which he named himself, was the pride of his life,next to his" granddaughters." He must have loved me. Idid not know it then Now Iremember, he gave me more caresses" than he bestowed upon my sister, and— called me tenderly his we bonnie Mary ofArgyle." That was " When friends and fortune smiled, But, ah !how fortune varies ; Inow am sorrow's child." '' Mycup ofhappiness has been drained, Iteas forever. There are some strokes of calamity that scorch and' scathe' the soul, that penetrate the vitalseat ofhappiness and blast it." Truly, there are few greater" trialsthan tolose alife-long home. Ihad troubles; have often sunk beneath the summer sun and trembled in the blast," but it was my home and my children's home, the air so cool and grateful. Lovely flowers scattered their odor around, and Icannot put aside the clinging love for the sweetest, holiest spot on earth. There are times when Iimagine lam back again in my quiet, comfortable apartment, where, insummer, the grate fulsouth-wind fanned me to sleep, and the wide-awake owl," perch ing in the old cherry tree, near my window, kept watch allnight long." Atearly morn, the cheering sound fromthe luxuriant maple tree that shaded the back portico, with"note as clear as a crystal INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. XIII brook and fullof cheer, was the song of the red-breasted robin. "And memory lingers in heart and brain, making me often a childagain."" ' ' There was never a harsh or mournful note That came afresh from that warbler's throat He taught me a lesson of 'hope' and 'cheer' That carried me on from year to year, To 'sing' in the shadow, as wellas the" sun, Doing my part 'tillmy work is done Yes ;the flowers, the musical notes of the happy birds com forted me in my sorrow. How often have Isung the old song that will"— never, never lose its pathos— ''There's No Place Like Home littledreaming that Iwould ever" oe without" one. Oh ! what" a relief to my overburdened heart now to sit at my old Checkering" piano and sing the touching lines over and over again. Could Ibut dwell at my dear oldhome and look out ofthe window and view the holy spot which contains the ashes ofthose Iloved1and respected —my dear old grandfather, my own father and mother, brother, sister and three of my children—those of the littlenock Ifancied loved me most and whoare now chanting sweet music "inheaven !!! Icall them dead, but well Iknow They dwell where living waters flow." " Sad," truly sad, is the reflection that the old family grave yard is all that Ican now call mine own, where Ihave planted lilac, mock orange, narcissus, monthly damask roses and other favorite flowers of my dear grandfather, and have tended them for his sake. There let me sleep withthe dear ones, where once "my careless childhood strayed." Yes ;in this quiet, shady spot let me rest, where Ihave kept out weeds and briars and enjoyed the blooming of the sweet-scented shrubbery so long. "Then when life's journey is ended. And earth again mingles withearth, Lamented or not, still my wish is To rest in the land of my birth." "Bloomfield" is yet the dearest spot on earth to me, where the birds sing more joyously than anywhere else, the old-time flowers grow in luxuriance, beauty and retirement, and the healthful breezes blow through every casement, bringing along XIV INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. with them exhilarating draughts of pleasure and" refinement." I seem now to" inhale the delicious" perfume of the cup roses that decked the old-fashioned" garden, where" Ihave, summer after summer, withmy trusting littleones around me, rested in the latticed summer-house, shaded by two large, fruit-yieldingpear trees and a trailing Microfilla rosebush. And the flickering moonlight shadows —can Iever forget them ? And the silvered jasmine flowers, creeping up the broad piazza, outvying the stars above them inbeauty and numbers, whose sweetness was wafted throughout the wholehouse at evening time, their balmy breath inducing sweet, refreshing slumber to the drooping eyelids.