The Winterthur Library

 The Joseph Downs Collection of Manuscripts and Printed Ephemera

Henry Francis du Pont Winterthur Museum, Winterthur, DE  19735

302-888-4600 or 800-448-3883





Creator:          Mason, Jonathan, Jr., 1795-1884.                                           

Title:               Recollections of a septuaginarian [sic],

Dates:             [1866?]-1881.

Call No.:         Doc. 30

Acc. No.:         87x65; 98x130

Quantity:        3 volumes, 1 folder

Location:        31 A






Jonathan Mason, Jr., of Boston, was a portrait and figure painter, student of Gilbert Stuart, friend or acquaintance of virtually every major American artist of the nineteenth century.  His father Jonathan died in 1831.  He himself was married to Isabella Weyman in Italy in 1834.  The sculptor Horatio Greenough was one of the witnesses.  They had six children: sons Charles, Arthur, Herbert, and Philip, and two daughters, Isabelle (who married Charles Hook Appleton) and another who married William Sturgis Hooper.  Arthur became an ordained minister.  Herbert and Philip served in the Union army during the Civil War; Philip died from wounds in July 1864 and was interred at Mount Auburn Cemetery. 





Jonathan Mason's memoirs were “written without any attempt at elegant phraseology or fine writing, but Currente Calamo as his thoughts and remembrances arose to his mind between sundown and dark.  For the amusement of his Grandchildren.”  Begins with account of his parents' recollections of the Revolution, and his own childhood memories of Boston.  Continues with detailed accounts of his friendship with artists and patrons--including Gilbert Stuart, Washington Allston, Horatio Greenough, Thomas Sully, and Charles Robert Leslie--as well as other important New Englanders, including George Peabody, the Danas, and Cardinal Cheverus.  Includes copies of unpublished letters from Allston, Greenough, and others.  Also includes accounts of travels in Europe and the U.S.  Each volume has photographs pasted onto the endpapers.  One photo is of sons Herbert and Philip, with Philip in uniform.  Another photo is of Philip alone, in his uniform.  Entries record the Civil War service of these sons.  Contains notes and corrections in author's own hand.


In a separate folder will be found excerpts from "Recollections of an Octogenarian" which relate to Gilbert Stuart.  Also included in this folder is "An Episode of Gilbert Stuart's Life" and a copy of a letter from George C. Mason of Rhode Island about Gilbert Stuart.  (George Mason was planning to write a biography of Stuart.)






The materials are in English.





Collection is open to the public.  Copyright restrictions may apply.





Accession 87x65: purchased from James Cummins.

Accession 98x130: gift of Lucy Bell N. Sellers and William V. P. Newlin.






            Allston, Washington, 1779-1843.

            Burr, Aaron, 1756-1836.

            Channing, William Ellery, 1780-1842.

            Clay, Henry, 1777-1852.

            Calhoun, John C. (John Caldwell), 1782-1850.

            Cole, Thomas, 1801-1848.

            Dana, Richard Henry, 1815-1882.

            Doughty, Thomas, 1793-1856.

            Fuseli, Henry, 1741-1825.

            Fisher, Alvan, 1792-1863.

            Greenough, Horatio, 1805-1852.

            Harding, Chester, 1792-1866.

            Irving, Washington, 1783-1859.

            Jackson, Andrew, 1767-1845.

            Lafayette, Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert Du Motier, marquis de, 1757-1834.

            Leslie, Charles Robert, 1794-1859.

            Newton, Gilbert Stuart, 1794-1835.

            Peale, Rembrandt, 1778-1860.

            Prescott, William Hickling, 1796-1859.

            Stuart, Gilbert, 1755-1828.

            Sully, Thomas, 1783-1872.

            Vanderlyn, John, 1775-1852.

            Wilkie, David, Sir, 1785-1841.



            Painters - United States.

            Painting, American - Massachusetts.

            Boston (Mass.) - History.

            Boston (Mass.) - Description and travel.

            Europe – Description and travel.




            Portrait painters.


Additional title:

            Recollections of an octogenarian.








The Recollections of a


[Volume I]




Written without any attempt at elegant phraseology or fine writing, but Currente Calamo as his thoughts and remembrances arose to his mind between sundown and dark.


For the amusement

of his





  “I have considered the days of old and the years that are passed.”

77th Psm. 5. v.

“In te Dominie Speravi”




            It has often occurred to me, what a source of satisfaction it would have been had my father or mother have left amongst their papers some few reminiscences of their early life during the first revolution, and also some representations of their persons and dress in those perilous times, although there were no photographs, or Sir Peter Lely’s, in America, there were some very respectable profile artists, and portrait painters like Symbert and Copeley, just rising into notice, but they were few and far and widely scattered and far from easy access.


The Boston of those days was scarcely one third of the present Boston in Territory, so great a portion has been recovered from the sea by cutting down her hills, and encroaching upon the flats as is still being done, when quite a youth. I often took pleasure in listening to the reminiscences of my mother, when narrating some of the scenes she witnessed, when a young girl, residing with her father (during the revolution, and the occupancy of the city by the British troops) in a house where the Pelham now is at the bottom of the common in Boylston and Tremont Streets, among other scenes the horror that seized her upon going to the window, upon waking up one morning, and seeing fifteen to twenty soldiers of Lord Percy’s Regiment, hanging upon the branches of the great tree on the Common, under and around which tree the Regiment was encamped previous to their expidition [sic] to Lexington.


            I remember hearing a relative say, when a boy, at the raising of the siege, and embarkation of English, that the Boston boys had grand fun catching the Horses turned loose by the troops, riding and selling them, for ninepence and a quarter of a dollar in the streets, having no place to carry, or hay to give them. Many are the stories I heard when a boy, of those days, many of which have never been in print, and not likely ever to be, and I myself now beyond the usual alloted [sic] age have let them escape my memory.


I have never been informed to my recollection, to a certainty, in what street in Boston I first saw the light in March 12th, 1795, but I have a belief that it was in the next house but one to the Arch in Franklin Place formerly called the Tontine Buildings, now occupied by large Granite Stores, where my father resided previous to moving to Marlborough Street now called Washington, and into a house (where G. W. Warrens great dry goods house stands) now owned b W. T. Andrews. I have now two coloured engravings a view of Porta St. Giovani near Rome and the view of the Mausoleum of Caius Cestius (the only pyramid in Europe) which prints I associate as hanging in my fathers best room in Tontine Buildings. I was quite young when my father moved to Marlborough St, not more than five or six and yet I have vivid recollection of places and events previous to his moving to Mount Vernon then out of the inhabited part of the city and little more than a cow pasture. In Newbury afterwards called Marlborough and soon Washington Street, my fathers house had a large garden filled with Pear + Peach Trees, Rose Bushes, etc. etc. and extending to where now stands the Chauncey Place Church, and was bounded on the summer street side by Deacon Salisbury’s house and garden. There are now nearly fifty houses and stores on these two estates. I recollect my fathers having a Deer in the garden. I went to a school in Pond soon called Bedford Street kept by a Mrs. Hurley, amongst companions was Col. T. C. Amory of the Cadets, and Nye Hall who, we boys were in the habit of taking advantage of his amiable disposition and good nature and abusing and calling a coward because he did not resent our indignities, in after days I sorely repented of my share, hearing him spoken of by one of our Generals in the war of 1812 as being one of the bravest officers of the army, even to rashness, and poor fellow, he was then in trouble being courtmartialed + dismissed the army for some rash act. It has shown me ever since never to be hasty in forming an opinion of a man’s, or boy’s courage, until a good reason offers for questioning it.


            Our schoolmistress was accustomed to make excursions of a Thursday afternoon with all of her scholars as far as the great tree on the common, and to the new State House both of which were looked upon as nearly out of town and we were fitted out at home with apples + cake to supply our wants on the way.


                        Behind the State House at the head of what is now called Temple Street was a large hill on which there was a pillar headed by an Eagle and several large square pieces of stone on which were superscriptions relative to the war this Eagle came as high as the rotunda of the State House. As boys we had grand fun in climbing up this Hill and rolling down: During the revolution they were in the habit of lighting a Tar barrel on top of the Pillar which was a signal to the neighbouring towns, when any expedition was about taking place like that of Lord Percy’s expedition to Lexington. At this period when we school boys went to the State House say 1802 there were very fin houses near the rear of the State House with the exception of negro huts, and the land was fenced in, and in some instances planted with potatoes. In front of the state house, now called Beacon Street (probably from the hill with the Tar barrel as a beacon) there was little more than what would now be called a pathway down to the water edge which was this side of Charles Street where the late John Bryants house stands, and between the water and the State House there were but three houses viz, Justice Vinals where Mr. David Sears house now stands, Dr. J. Joys where Mr. F. Tudors house is, corner of Joy Street and the Hancock House where Mr. Beebe’s house is. What is now called Mount Vernon Street beginning at the N.E. corner of the State House and running back of the State House parralleled with Beacon Street was little more than a path way down to Charles Street that now is (then not filled up) on the sides of which were only three or four houses, in 1805 namely my fathers, the Callender house, since Lymans, and the Otis, now Pratts, the land was fenced in some places and improved as cow pastures and potato fields. Louisburgh Square was a high hill of an equal elevation with Beacon hill, upon the top of which was a gun house, and a long Rope walk where Princkney Street now is; on the top of this hill was a natural spring of water, at which the negroes used to wash their clothes and hang them on the barberry bushes to dry, we boys were in the habit of making bon-fires there of Thursdays afternoons the schools not keeping – where George W. Lymans house now stands corner of Mount Vernon + Joy Streets there was a negro cake and ale establishment we boys used to patronize. The late Cardinal Chevruse the Catholic Bishop of Boston, visited my fathers house often, and used to take me into his church in Franklin Place, and give me cake and mints, this excellent prelate I met years afterwards in Paris when he was Bishop of Montauban and received a kind invitation to visit him at his diocese south of France.


            Where the houses in park Street now stand, in 1803, was the Alms House reaching from the corner of Beacon to the Park Street Church where there stood a large Wooden Building with a windmill, called the grainery where corn was ground and which gave its name to the burying ground. In 1804 my father and elder part of his family being on a visit to Charleston S.C. I lived with my grandfather in his house corner of Court St and Tremont now occupied as a store by S. S. Pierce the grocer, during which time I recollect the great fire in Elm Street, of a Stable in which there were some fifty horses burnt, also I remember a carriage drawn by four horses passing up Court St. in which were seated Jerome Bonapart + Miss Patterson his wife.


            I also remember a funeral of Gene Hamilton at the Stone Chapel (on the anniversary of his death) seeing a large yellow dog walking the streets with a quantity of crape around his neck said to have been put on by the Jacobins.


            My Grandfathers yard extended on Tremont Street (then called Common Street) some two hundred feet; there were a very few houses between him and the Stone Chapel – Rufus Amory’s house was where the Savings Bank is – and was afterwards occupied by Atheneum Shaw in whose office was the commencement of the present Boston Atheneum. On the corner of School Stree opposite the Chapel lived Sally Sheafe mother of Sir Roger Hale Sheafe who was taken away when a boy by Lord Percy who boarded at his mothers and carried to Europe and educated + commissioned in his Regiment of which he eventually became Colonel and was for sometime afterwards stationed in Canada where a most melancholy event took place, the mutiny of his Regiment for which every tenth man was shot. During Col. Sheafe’s residence in Canada, he several times came to Boston and was always an acceptable guest at my fathers house, he was a tall, genteel, handsome man. At the fall of Gen. Brock, in the war of 1812 at Queenstown Canada he came in command of the forces and peace being declared shortly after, he embarked for England where he was made a Baronet and had command given him in Scotland and during my residence in London from 1822 to 1825 one day I was agreeably surprised by a call from him at my rooms in Great Marlborough Street; he was exceedingly polite and I believe offered to carry me to the Duke of Northumberlands, who gave a grand party at his Palace in Charing Cross now Trafalgar Square, the next evening which I politely declined.


            To return to Common St. opposite my grandfathers was Mrs. Waldo’s where Rogers Shoe Store now is, and west was the house called the Sir Henry Vane House inhabited at this time by the late William Sullivan just then married to Miss Swann – next was the late Gov. Wm. Phillips – next two brick houses one occupied at that time by Dr. J. C. Warren just married and the other by Mr. Bray – and the next – a large wooden house at the corner opposite the Stone Chapel with Poplar Trees before it was the residence of the late Samuel Elliott who resembled so much Trumbulls painting of Gen. Elliot Lord Hetherfield in the Siege of Gibralter that I never see it but I think of him; his cocked hat, shirt, ruffled and aquiline nose.


            The opposite corner where the Tremont House now stands was a wooden house occupied and owned by Daniel Hubbard a somewhat singular eccentric character – the next house two story, was William Perkins’s and the next a large stately looking edifice was Adam Babcock’s which was next to the burying ground. Opposite to these were a Chairmakers and Livery Stable. Where the Tremont Temple is, at the corner of Bromfield Lane was Miss Betsy Deblois’s a perfect beauty in her old age as I recollect her, said to have been killing when young and to have distracted some English Officers, her mansion stood back with trees before it of imposing appearance, she used to kiss me + give me cake and I can see her now, she used to wear a ruff around her neck, and dress with great taste.


At corner of what is now called Hamilton Place, was a brick building fronting on Hamilton Place with a flight of steps both sides, which was formerly the Massachusetts Bank but then occupied by the late Dr J. S. J Gardiner as a school to fit young men for College. Beyond Winter Street where the Masonic Temple (now United States Court) and Temple place and the block of buildings extending to West Street now stand, was a large garden and large house called the Washington Gardens formerly the residence of Gen. Jackson of the revolution, and then by Mrs. Swann; where Colonade row stands were a few houses scattered here and there, to a large barn looking building which was the only Theatre standing where the Masonic Edifice of white marble stands, before it was on the opposite side of the street, the Hay Scales, and aside of it a Fandango of huge size like a wind mile. I recollect that Othello a mulatto kept the only Ice Cream saloon in Boston, near the Theatre at that time. Dr Townsend father of Dr Solomon Townsend had a large building (nearly where the Dentist – Dr Keep resides in Boylston Street standing off the street) as inspector of Pots + Pearl ashes. William Faster lived in the corner house where the Pelham House now stands. On the Common between Walnut Street and the Frog Pond was a large rock called the wishing stone around which boys and girls used to dance and in vicinity of which there was said to have been a wonderful echo in those days.  The common had few trees upon it outside of the lower mall with exception of the great Elm which was not then stripped by age and storms of its branches and foliage as now and around which the cows found shelter in the heat of summer.  For most every well to do citizen kept a cow in those days which were fed in common, from which this land took its name.  In England commons are generally waste lands lying in the vicinity or at a distance from cities, not owned or worth anything to private individuals, as Clapham Common not far from London.


            The cows on the common were driven home through the streets at sun down and the gates being open most of them went home at that time without being sent for.  It seems like a dream to me at the present time 1866 when I can hardly get through the crowds in the streets myself that I ever could have witnessed such scenes as I have described, yet nevertheless they are as perfect before me as yesterday, and one scene in particular, with several others, I was standing at the mall fence opposite to Winter Street, when Fred. Ingraham said to one of us who was near sighted, John there’s your mother coming up the street, and he addressed immediately started off to meet her, it was a black cow coming up the street to the common.  There were no walks across the common in those days and so few inhabitants on the upperside (now called the west end) except negroes, that there was no need, and the ladies could hardly cross where the cows fed, which was over the whole range, according to the time (of early past before the State House) (afternoon near the frog pond) I call to mind a ludicrous scene that took place one day, a female cousin of mine living with my father attempted one day to make the passage of the common instead of going round, unknown to herself, she was followed by my fathers watch dog “Fido” who was a perfect demon amongst cows, she had got near the center when she heard his bark and she nearly fainted with fear, he stirred the cows up all around her, but finally drove them from her, she did not attempt that route again for a long time – another early remembrance of the common besets me, one morning, the day after what was then called the Negro election. Ben D Green, Martin Brimmer, George E Head, Franklin Dexter and myself were playing ball on the common before breakfast: and the ball fell into a hole where one of the booths stakes had been driven the day before, which was filled up with paper rubbage etc. putting the hand down something jingled and we found several dollars in silver which had probably been put there for safety and the owner becoming intoxicated late in the day had gone off and forgotten them.  I can’t recollect that we advertised them.  We were small boys them all of us, and I was the youngest.


My father kept many houses and he allowed me to ride early, I recollect going out with the citizens on horseback to escort Gov. Gore in from Waltham, and riding next to an old man named Carleton said to be a great mathematician I can see him now in the old fashioned coat [      ], breeches, and black boots coming up to the calf of the leg only with tassels; it was dreadfully dusty and the only escort I ever joined in, to my present recollection, and I expect I was discomfited by getting into such sedate company.  Upon moving up to Mount Vernon Street my father had put me to Nathan Webb’s School in Mason Street, then a part of West St, here I became acquainted with Stephen Fales, one of the oldest scholars who sat in the maters desk, and was an under usher mending our pins he and I although much his junior became great friends, and living back of my fathers house in Pinckney Street, we came and went home together form school, a

great advantage to me, when large boys threatened to flog me for making faces and doubling my fists at them, this friendship lasted without an unfriendly feeling for over fifty years, up to his death in Cincinnati (1854).


            After Webb’s school my father sent me to Midfield to reside in the Rev. Dr Thomas Prentiss family, where my brother was located, here I was associated with the late Genl. James Hamilton, Gov. of South Carolina, who was last at sea, also with the Rev. Dr Allen of Northborough, the late Thomas Prentiss of Charlestown, Judge John Gray Rogers of the Police Court, and late Thomas Perkins and one or more others.


            The great event of my residence there was the total eclipse of the Sun at midday of the summer of 1806, the scene, the feelings, awe, chill, astonishment, sublimity, are

as deeply impressed on my mind as though it were but yesterday instead of sixty years ago.  Dr Prentiss was a most excellent man and devout Christian.  I remained with him until 1807 in the fall, when my father took me home and placed me at Mr William Welles’s private school, where I had for companions the late William Elliot, the late Hon. Wm. B. Calhoun, the late Hon. Sam. Elliot, the late Dr Joshua H. Hayward, the Hon. John A. Lowell.  I went at eleven a.m. to the Hon. Nathan Hale to study mathematics and afterwards when Mr Hale gave up I went to a Mr. Fessenden in Summer Street, the father of Col. Fessenden and a brother of Fessenden the writer, it was in the summer & I have a faint recollection that one day Mr Fessenden entrusted me with a letter to be delivered to my father which I did, whether I carried back the answer (which I think very likely) I cannot positively say, nor do I recollect whether my father told me the contents then or afterwards, but the letter was from the late Vice President Aaron Burr stating he had just arrived from Europe and was without friends and asking our interview, and that he had a box of books which he would wish to pledge for a loan.


            My father declined an interview (having been a friend and intimate acquaintance of Hamilton and his family) also the loan on his books, but enclosed him a hundred dollars as a free gift which was all he needed to carry him to New York where his democratic friends were. In the life of Burr by Matthew C. Davies, this was misrepresented thirty years ago and since copied into the life published by Parton and my father abused for not receiving him and making the loan.  Burr probably denied having received anything.


            In 1810 I went to Cambridge and had as a private tutor the Rev. Samuel Sewall one of the Proctors of Harvard College, the late distinguished historian Wm. H. Prescott also went and studied with late Professor Levi Friesbie and we boarded with Mr Bartlett Register of Deeds, Prescott entered sophomore and I entered freshman Augt. 1811


            It was not my good fortune to be blest with an inclination for hard study and when I call to mind the excitements attending the War just commencing and extending through my College life and the inducements and allurements of going into the city, being a member of a large family and my father entertaining most of the strangers I am surprised that I kept my place in College at all.  And as far as I am any authority (and there was no one more with him than I was in the early part of our College life) the Historian had little inclination for study and was on the contrary given up to indulging in city society + pleasures and was my companion to most of the city parties, moving in the same circle and he dining with me and I with him often of a Saturday at our respective fathers, he had a ready share of wit and humor which always made him a pleasant companion but assuredly there was nothing that indicated high intellect or future eminence in his early college life, which has been thought necessary to assume by some of his biographers – and I cannot divest myself of the belief that had Prescott have escaped the sad accident to his eyes, Ferdinand + Isabella never would have been written, and the United States not known him as her great Historian.


            Unforseen events are often brought about by accident, and a mans whole life changed by the veering of the mind, if all things have had gone smooth with Prescott the probability is, that surrounded with the comforts of life, property and friends, fond of society and pleasure, he never would have taxed himself with the research and indefatigable industry that brought forth Ferdinand + Isabella and to show how little faith and Confidence he had in his own power of composition during a journey I made with him in company with a party of ladies in 1830 to the Falls of Niagra, Montreal + Quebec he spoke of the work he was then writing (Ferdinand + Isabella) and said it was nearly finished and he had made up his mind to loose the cost of the printing some ten thousand dollars.


            To return to self – I suffered greatly in College life from ulcerated sore throat which brought on a partial deafness which has lasted me through life.


            The conveniences and comforts of the present day were not known at that time – few scholars had carpeted and curtained rooms with sofas + easy chairs, gas and hard coal fires lasting all night, and nothing short of a Doctors certificate could obtain permission to board out .


Our rooms were washed out + sanded daily when we were at recitation, and our wood fires burnt out before morning and we were obliged to get up in the cold and go into a cold chapel to prayer at six o’clock in the morning and Commons Hall where we had no fire places and our fare was exceedingly coarse and badly cooked so much so as to be the cause of frequent rebellion.  When I have visited since in these later days rooms of my sons and their companions, carpeted and curtained, with sofas and all manner of easy chairs, and been knowing to their select private clubs for living together at their meals it has brought back to memory all of our sufferings and I have wondered how we surmounted our deprivations so well.


            During my sophomore year I obtained permission to take my meals out during the cold months at a Mrs Watsons.  Amongst the boarders there was the late Rev. Isaac Boyle and a Chinese said to have been a Manderin, brought out to this country in one of Col. T. H Perkins’s China ships and placed at Cambridge to acquire our language, of this gentleman with whom I could not communicate I learnt to play chess which is the only game I have ever been partial to since, he had not then acquired out language but by signs we understood each other, and he accompanied me once to my fathers house in Boston, through streets in his Chinese dress, which he never [      ].  Whilst in the country, it was the last and only time I walked with him being much annoyed by the crowd his appearance created.


There entered my class in our sophomore year a young man by the name of Theodore Tudor Randolph a nephew and adopted son of John Randolph of Roanoke Virginia, from whom he brought letters to my father, of course he and I became very intimate, he had been educated previous to his coming to Cambridge at a Jesuitical Seminary in France, and was as singular a figure of a young man as was ever seen in our northern plain drest society, he had high cheek bones, dark brown hair, sallow complexions, and a dark penetrating black eye, with much of the Indian physiognomy, he wore a swallow tail dress coat, leather (small cloaths) breeches, and white top boots and although not twenty years of age had the appearance of an old man.  He boarded with President Kirkland who had His sister Miss Kirkland to keep house for him, Randolph took high rank in our Class, but had all that Southern rank and pride and aristocratic superiority of self, which has led at the present day to so much bloodshed and sorrow; he scouted intimacy with the greatest part of the class, and had few if any friends, with the exception of Charles Bruce and myself.  Bruce of whom I will here make mention was a young man of some twenty five or six years of age, he had been the head and responsible clerk, in the store, of the firm of Blake + Dix, these gentlemen quarrelled and fought and one of them was killed, and Bruce was sent to Europe to wind up their affairs, on shipboard with him going out was the Rev. Dr. Mason Harris of Dorchester, with whom he studied and fitted for College.  In the commencement of our junior year, Randolph who had been out of health for some time, left Cambridge for a time and went to Europe and died at Cheltenham, Bruce at the same time took up his connection with Harvard and entered the Senior Class at Brown University.  And having suffered much from sore throat and my hearing being effected I also left College and entered Mr. Robert S. Shaws counting room.


            Randolph previous to leaving had contracted many large debts, altogether to the amount of nearly fifteen hundred dollars, which he left unpaid upon going to Europe.  Sometime after I cannot say how long, Bruce wrote me a letter enclosing John Randolph’s check on a Bank in New York, I believe the Mechanic Bank for $600. dollars also Mr Randolph’s instructions to divide it among the creditors with the assurance that he did not hold himself answerable for this – but might pay them some little more, if they then gave a receipt in full.  Money was depreciated every where with the exception of Boston where a check upon New York was [     ] discount.  Mr Shaw took it of me and with the proceeds I immediately followed the instructions, when to my great horror and distress the draft was returned protested for the reason that when Mr Randolph deposited the money he demanded a receipt which appears was not customary, and the Bank to be even with him would not pay the Draft until the receipt was returned, it occasioned me a vast deal of anxiety and trouble.  Mr Randolph was much incensed and exasperated and unbottled the whole of his math upon poor President Kirkland for allowing a young many in his family to run up such bills what became of this letter of Mr Randolphs I have never been able to ascertain – whether I sent it to Bruce or loaned it + forgot to whom, or lost it with several others I have since missed I cannot imagine.  I have several times since been brought into the presence of Mr. Randolph both in this country and England.  The last time in the United States Senate, where he was brought in and placed in Senator Dixons chair to hearken to a speech from his old antagonist Henry Clay.  This I believe was shortly previous to his death in Philadelphia.  All of the above mentioned persons, have long since been dead.  Bruce graduated at Brown University, went to New Orleans studied law and lived in the family of Mr. Herman the United States Bank President or Cashier and was rising rapidly into notice when the yellow fever seized him and he died.  The late President Quincy in a conversation a short time before his death said he thought with Mr Randolph that President Kirkland was very delinquent in his duty in permitting young Randolph living in his house to run up such bills.  I ought perhaps to mention that these bills were mostly for Books and horses + carriage which he purchased and kept, not for any low dissipation.


            I had from new Orleans many letters from Bruce, which were in a trunk with Randolphs letters, + one from Cardinal Chevruse lost, having been missing when I returned from Europe in 1825.


            In 1816 having suffered greatly from an operation, the removal of one of the tonsils from my throat by a ligature I went to the Havana.  Previous to which I had been the year 1815 in the store of Robert G. Shaw, and recall the excitement of the January of that year 1815 when coming into Boston the bells were all singing for Peace.  I had been out of town to meet a lot of Brandy (The Brambles Cargo) coming in from Providence on Trucks.


            The 5th of March 1816 I left Boston Harbour (in the Brig Caroline, Capt. Gorham) as supercargo – bound to Havana with a Cargo of Blue negro cloths [      ], fish, candles, soap, and boxes of Nails etc. etc. belonging to David Ellis, Jonathon Chapman, + S. Parkman.  Our passage was made in 18 days, and upon arriving off the Moro castle we were boarded by the Revenue Boat in which was Mr Scull of the house of James Drake + Co to whom I consigned the Brig dividing commissions, on landing I went to the house of Mrs. Scott to board where I found Frederic Tudor who had just set up his Ice house and was retailing it out, also Charles Cunningham, supercargo of the Brig “Maria” (a Hamburgh Vessel) there were several American gentlemen representing Boston houses residing in Havana – a Mr Mitchell firm of Eyre Jeffries + Co. also a Mr. Hinckley agent for James + T. H. Perkins, Mr John Murdock of the house of Drake + Co was the head of the House, resident there.  Mr Drake residing in Philadelphia. 


            This was the year of the great piracies and the City of Havana was full of them. Apodoca formerly vice roi of Mexico was Governor.  A Captain of a Spanish frigate was stabbed in the street at midday + flying to the St Domingo Church the assassin was protected by the Monks we were all at dinner and jumpt from our chairs and ran to the windows at the time it took place before the windows. 


We all carried swords then when walking the streets, Gambling was carried on at a frightful length by every one, at the boarding houses and elsewhere – a young man came in a Baltimore Clipper with a Cargo of flour and lost it all at vingt-et-une before it was landed – and at Mrs Scott (afterwards married to Uncle Ben Harris so called) we used (Tudor, Hinckley, Mitchell, myself) to play for doubloons the few nights I was there After seeing my Cargo landed I went on a visit to Nath. Fellows’ plantations – The Reserva and Ferndador plantations.  Returning to the city I found my captain down with the fever – and the second mate – Francis an Irishman having been in a drunken fight severely beaten incapable of doing duty this brought me in contact with Dr Osgood one of the kindest men I have ever known before or since who I carried in our boat at a certain fixed hour every day on board the Brig to see the sick Captian + mate – my old fellow boarder Hinckley died very suddenly and we buried him next day – two days after he had been playing vingt-et-une – at Mrs. Scotts.  The weather had become hot and the Black vomit raging, no corpse was allowed to remain twenty four hours above ground – He was a good reliable, capable young man, or such a firm as the Perkins’s would not have employed him as an agent – but a life in Havana in those days was attended with great risk, and every one was obliged to be very careful of his diet and his beverage which I fear was not the case with these young men as so many of them died.


Previous to leaving Havana I went to several parties, and was often at Dr Osgoods, and visited the Bishops Gardens + the Barracouis where the slaves were carried when first landed.  Mr Mitchell was taken down with the fever, and Dr Osgood accompanied me on board my Brig at day break on the day of sailing and on the way to the wharf he proposed our stopping and seeing Mitchell whom the night before he did not believe would live until morning, and said we should probably find him dead and I could so report him on my arrival in Boston.  And so it seemed upon entering his room, he was lying on his back apparently lifeless, his face pale and gastly.  Dr Osgood with his penknife, cut his pillow and took a feather + held it to his nose and then said you can report him dead which I did upon my arrival – about six weeks after this going into Arnold Well’s Office in State corner of Congress Street.  I met Mitchell coming out – The day I saw him was the crisis.  In 1812 Franklin Dexter, William H. Prescott, Adam L. Bingamin and myself, went to the Providence Commencement at Brown College. Dexter and Bingamin had just graduated at Harvard.  We had a very kind reception from the Browns + Ives family, Carringtons, Hoppins + Arnolds and had a grand Ball at Chappotins Hotel the only decent one in Providence at that time, he had a beautiful daughter Adeline.  Richard I. Arnold +Zachariah Allen who was married to Arnolds sister are the only ones living of those we then knew at Providence.  I was dancing with Miss Harriet Bowen + Bingamin with Miss Sally Center when Chappotin stopt the music and told us of the Guerrier capture by the Constitution and that Lieut. Morris was wounded to whom Miss Bowen was engaged, also Miss Center was engaged to one of the Officers. [        ]  Another incident anticidant to that I recollect as connected with College, while I was studying with Mr Sewall, the Class that graduated in 1811 had a masquerade in that winter and proposed visiting their fathers house in the evening (some ten or twelve of them) I hearing of it when they came to my fathers house which was the first they came to in Boston, slipt in amongst them masked, and greatly puzzled them when they came into the lighted rooms, The late Gov. Edward Everett was masked in dress of Hamlet – Dr Edward Reynolds as a Quaker – John C. Gray as a Hussar – W. P. Mason as Baron Sigismund Brazen Mask Charles P. Curtis as an old woman time of Charles First – Mr David Sears* loaned me a splendid Court dress of time Charles 1st. We went after my fathers to Lt. Gov. Wm. Gray’s and found a large party waiting for us amongst whom was Capt. Hull of the Constitution lying in Boston Harbor – most all of those are now dead except my brother Reynolds + Gray.


*(father of my brother in law)


            After my return from the Havana in 1817 I went into business with Samuel Snelling as Commission Merchants on India Wharf.  Omission.  I saw the stern of a fine large Indianman belonging to I. + T. H, Perkins the Canton blow up the powder just brought on board having been set fire to by the cook because they would not let him go on shore, the specic had not been put in the run but was lying on deck and consequently was saved.


            When we moved to Long Wharf I went South to seek consignments passing some day’s in New York where I dined with John Jacob Astor in an old brick building where the Astor house now stands in Company of Cambreling and Pearson [Omission:]  The next store to Beckford + Bates (Joshua Bates since of the house of Barings Brothers London) we afterwards moved in 1818 to No 21 Long Wharf next store to John Parker + sons when setting at the window at India Wharf I saw the stern of a fine large Indianman = Omission Page 46.


our friends.  Mr Cambreling has since been a distinguished member of Congress.  I also dined with Gardner G. Howland afterwards Howland + Aspinnall – Thomas W. Phillips accompanied me to Providence and New York stopping a week at Providence for Genl. Carrington, Ben. Hoppin + Hon. James Mason.  Member of Congress from R. J. who wanted us to wait and take a private coach through to New York with them, there being no Rail roads and good winter boats.  During our stay at Chappolins they feasted and entertained us grandly, and stopping in the night to change horses at Middletown we found the Hotel all lighted up + the managers (knowing Gen. Carrington, Mr Mason + Hoppins) came out and invited us to stop to a grand city Ball being given to Commandor Macdonough but we politely declined and proceeded on our journey, such was the traveling in those days so slow and the roads in Winter so bad that it took us two days and two nights to get to New York tired and fatigued. There I parted with those gentlemen, remaining, and they going on to Washington.


After leaving New York I proceeded to Philadelphia to the Mansion House where I passed a week or more, going to Genl. Cadwalladers, the Biddles’ where I met Joseph Buonaparte late King of Spain who resided at Bordentown.             From there I went to Baltimore where I passed a fortnight or more, delightfully at Mrs. Wests boarding house visiting and dining with the Gilmores, Smiths, Hoffmans,                            , Col. Howard of Belvidere Estate, old Charles Carroll’s the Catons + Harpers, + Dr T. Stewarts family, and with my Boston friends Hammond + Newman – at Washington I found my father who represented Massachusetts in Congress that year and the next. After seeing the sights at Washington I went to pass a week at Wm. H, Fitzhugh’s at Alexandria, he married Miss Goldsborough of Eastern Shore of Maryland daughter of the U. S. Senator and was a near relation of the Lee’s of Virginia – at his house I met Mrs Lewis the widow of Genl. Washingtons friend and secretary + her daughter a beautiful girl of about twenty one or more, who was born at Mount Vernon in the Generals house the week he died, I played chess with Mrs Fitzhugh, her husband introduced me to Lawrenson + Fowls the lawyers, Quakers, and others who afterwards sent me flour etc. etc.  Fitzhugh was a splendid specimen of a Virginia gentleman of those days, he gave a dinner party to several distinguished members of Congress, that I might see and hear them, viz. Mr. Otis + Rufus King of the Senate also Gov. Barbour and my father, Henry Clay (speaker) John Randolph and one or two others of the House their ladies were with them with exception of my father and Randolph and I had quite a treat hearing Randolph after the cloth was removed make a splendid speech upon the Missouri Question which was then being agitated in Congress Mr. Otis told me afterwards, that it was superior to any one he had made in the house on the same subject. Mr Fitzhugh was killed some ten or more years after on his Estates in Fairfax County by his horse throwing up his head and striking him on the nose and forehead – He was probably nearly related to the Lee’s of the late Rebellion, as one is named Fitzhugh Lee – his widow I believe is still living, she was very beautifull when I saw her, and her sister married Thomas Bullfinch Coolidge of Boston (both dead).                    Returning to Washington I joined John Lynch a young protégé of Don. Juan Houghton Spanish Consul at Boston – and William P. Green of Boston, and Mr Gair (of the house afterwards of Willis Latham + Gair and after that of Barings Brothers at Liverpool) in an excursion to Mount Vernon down the Potomac and as there were no Steamboats or RailRoads in those days and in Winter the roads were shocking we hired a stoop and admitted Incledon the vocalist to our party who wanted very much to see Mt. Vernon. We were becalmed on the River in a fog and two days and nights getting there with little to eat but ham and eggs. and had a sorry time and found Mount Vernon cold and dreary. I and Gair proceeded out to Richmond I believe Lynch went also – all of that party but myself have long since been dead.


            At Richmond I went to a fine old Virginia lady’s house a Miss Randolph’s of the Randolph family – In this city I had letters to John Wickham one of the first and greatest lawyers of Virginia – to Mr John Bell of Bellvill – to the Hayes’ and to Harfalls of the great flour mills, - to Col. Gambel + his brother Robert the former the Banker at Mrs Randolph’s boarding house I found a Boston acquaintance Col. Loam Mr Baldwin with whom I went to Petersburgh and and to Fredericsburgh, he was engaged in the water works of James River by the Virginia Govt. It was like going to a play, to ride in a stage coach with him and hear his remarks full of wit + humor. I kept up his acquaintance and sought his company up to his death, he was a great friend of a mutual acquaintance Washington Allston the artist. 


            Snelling finally took his father Sugar Refining at the North End and we parted I continuing Commission business at the corner Store of Custom House Street fronting end of Central Wharf where the Reihardsons Iron store has been for half a Century. but previous to leaving #21 Long Wharf a most melancholy homicide took place directly before our store, a Sloop from Portland or some neighboring port was discharging molasses + boys annoying the mate by taking out the bungs, and running sticks in to lick, getting exasperated he procured a ship and chased them, when he received a stone on the temple and fell dead on the spot – afterwards Sept. 1819 another melancholy experience awaited me at the corner of Custom House. Capt. Finch of the Navy who I had been intimate with ever since the close of the War, he having been first Officer in the Independence under Com. Bainbridge and had brought letters to my father and with Lt. Dudley, Madison + Guisinger was an every day acquaintance of min, called upon me one day and told me he had an affair of honor on hand and asked me to procure for him a pair of hair tricker pistols which were made by the Emperor Napoleon’s pistol maker and belonged to a relation of mine, which I agreed to do, making myself as I now view it, an aider in crime.  The late Genl. Brooke then a Colonel in the Regular Army who married Miss Delano called upon me and received the pistols and returned them to me after the duel in which Finch shot his antagonist dead at the first fire – they fought at East Boston on the inside of the old fort standing a little above where the great sugar house now stands a boat was sent from the Independence and took Finch to some point in South Boston where Comd. Bainbridge had a carriage in waiting to take him to Providence out of our State. I never saw Finch again until years after he came on to be groomsman to Wm. F. Otis at his marriage with Emily Marshall and that was after my return from a residence of three years inn Europe – all of these parties are dead and I have been told that Finch who changed his name to Bolton – after this – was never the same as before nor do I believe that any man that designedly took life was ever happy after. I never can forget when a little boy accompanying my father in his Phaeton to the springs a Mr Philip Jones + his two sisters put up at the Hotel in Northampton the same evening with us – they were from New Orleans and in the middle of the night I and my father were aroused up by the most excruciating cries + lamentations that can be described, my father drest and left me and shortly after they ceased, my fathers explanations to me the next day as we were traveling are as deeply impressed on my mind as though it were yesterday.


            Phil. Jones + a Mr Gurley of New Orleans were bosom friends. Gurley held office and was a particular friend + had influences with the Governor Jones sought an office in the Governors gift – Gurley promised to get it for him – the office was given to another – Jones hot headed and exasperated meeting Gurley – without waiting for an explanation insulted him and struck him received a challenge and killed him and then learnt that Gurley had used every means to procure an office for him + had finally quarreled with the Governor and thrown up his own office –


            What a horrible retribution!!


Poor Jones died shortly after we saw him, of a brain fever. In 1820.     


            John C. Calhoun paid us a visit when Secretary of War.   At a dinner given him by my father in August Commodore Hull who sit next to me made me a proposition, which my father sitting near heard and immediately said “John – take him up” It was – If I would come over to the Navy Yard and with him make out a list of the strangers then in town would get up a subscription paper and attend to the minutae dinner, steamer etc. etc. he would send down tents, flags, and have them in order + would bring his Band and Bosts and seamen to land them at Tewksbury now called Hospital Island near Shirley Point. All of which I agreed to and Col. Perkins and others headed the subscription paper at table that day + I drew up a list of gentlemen to whom it was proper to send it and gave it to Mungo Williams who I engaged with Peter Howard and their coadjutors to be present – (Peter Howard Mulatto leader of dancing band – Mungo Williams mulatto chief waiter of parties)


            I agreed with Fosters of Concert Hall to provide a dinner at the Island all of which was to our perfect satisfaction. Tewksbury House the only one on the Island was fitted up for the ladies and to dance in after dinner and the dinner table was spread under a tent in the vicinity with Frigates canvass out and National bunting inside. We embarked at Liverpool Wharf in the only steamer (though small) that Boston then boasted of, previous to casting off Commodore Hull joined us with Captain Hunter in five boats from the Navy Yard containing some thirty of forty seamen and a full band of music and in passing the Castle we took in Col. Afterwards Genl. Eustis who brought with him the Castle Band in addition. It was the latter end of August at the full of the moon and to my recollection not a cloud in the Heavens. After the dinner and the gentlemen began smoking the ladies withdrew to the house + I called Peter Howard and set them a dancing which withdrew most of the young men from the table – there were many very pretty girls from the South who had come on to commencement, their friends brothers etc. graduating. I recollect two very stylish girls from Philadelphia – the Miss Reeds – Catharine married Commodore Morgan of the Navy and died a year or two after – also two Miss Lyles’s from same city.            At nine we came up and sailing round the Navy Yard with a full moon landed at the Wharf in Boston without an accident of the smallest kind, surprising, considering every person had to be landed ladies and all on the backs of the sailors, as there was no wharf or dry landing place.


     June 1st 1813. Not a cloud in

     the Heavens.


            My father and myself saw the whole of the Battle between the Frigates Chesapeake + Shannon. Capt. Lawrence had been at Mrs. Jones’s boarding house in Pearl St. the day before at dinner and being told the Shannon was lying off the Harbour, had intimated he should go out – I visited the first Lt. of the ship Lt. Page lying sick at Mrs. Peverelly’s back Joys Buildings (a son of Gov. Page of Virginia) and learning the prospect of a battle went home to my fathers in the country and communicated what I had heard expressing a wish to go out in a boat next day with some others who had proposed it and see the fight – my father disapproved of it and said he and I with a very fine Doland Telescope which he possessed would go on to our Hill, [          ] and should see better than we could from the distance any boat could safely be near them – and so it proved, We saw plainly the Chesapeake lying in Presidents Roads and turning the glass saw the Shannon lying about seven to eight miles below the light – we could see the Marines on board the Shannon as she lay broadside to the town their guns glistening. The Chesapeake hoisted sail about noon and bore away under easy sail + it was late in the afternoon before the ships met – we saw what we thought an explosion but on board which ship we could not tell they were so near together, and so far out to sea and they finally vanished from sight + my father shutting up his telescope – said – they have probably gone father out to get sea room.


            The Chesapeake was captured.


            In 1815 and up to 1822 I associated with a set of gentlemen who used to dine together once a fortnight at each others houses alternately, those who were unmarried making use of the old blue chamber of Rouillards, formerly Julien corner of Milk + Congress Streets – of whom were Marshall B Spring, R. D. Shephard, Ben. D. Green, Gorham Brooks, T. H. Perkins Jr. + myself – some others, now forgotten – I recollect we gave a dinner to James Wallack the Tragedian who brought letters to the Hon. T. H. Perkins from Mr Charles Grant of London – He was the greatest actor we ever had after Cooper, with exception of Cook, Kean not having then been in this country – All of the above are dead. ---


            In July 1822 I had given up attending to business not having any taste for a commercial life and my father giving his consent to my going to Europe I wrote to my friend Jonathan Goodhue to engage my passage in the Liverpool Packet “Liverpool,” just built and advertised to sail from new York. Mr Joseph Leee of the house of Jos. + Henry Lee hearing of it and meeting me on change – said, we have a fine large Brig arried from India called the Palmer, she has beenin Port short of a week, is discharging and we intend to send her to sea the day after tomorrow in ballast, to have her coppered in Liverpool with the same crew but a new Captain, go and take possession of the cabin making your arrangements with the Captain respecting provisions etc. etc.  I gladly accepted his offer found Captain Mellus most kind hearted, excellent and sociable, who said he would go me halves in whatever I would put on board and procure them for us. I went on board Thursday July 26th the day appointed and was some – what disappointed upon finding a Frenchman – a Mons. Chappeau on board, and more so, when when opening a note, handed me by Mr. Lee when leaving the Wharf, I read – Beware of the [picture of a cocked hat] (Cocked hat)!


            It was a kind and timely notice, he turned out a cross + surly fellow. I had very little conversation with him, but he quarreled with the Captain + mates the whole passage. Whenever he got to be very crass I out with my Eclipse Wine and gave him a glass, which my father has kindly put on board.


            Upon our leaving India Wharf I was considerably startled by hearing Mr Lee hail Capt. Mellus + direct him to return if he found the Brig was crank + not ballast enough even if he got as far as the grand Banks, this made me more or less nervous all acrost the Atlantic where the wind was high. When just clear of the Grand bank the Captain came down to my State Room and begged me to come up on deck as soon as possible – Amongst the Alps + Pyrenees Mountains I have seen many splendid sights since but they can never efface from my memory the magnificence of that mornings scenery. There was not a cloud in the Heavens, the sky was of the most perfect ultramarine blue, the water of a dark purple we were going a the rate of 10 or 11 knots directly towards the rising Sun, all sail set, directly before the wind – between us and the Sun there was an Island of Ice which by the Captains calculation was from 2 to 300 feet in height and half a mile in length crossing our bow towards the gulf stream, from the top and sides were gushing down rivulets of pure silver making the most fantastic image and glittering like diamonds, in the dark center appeared towers and castles, towards the edges forests and woods of the purest green tipped by the rising Sun in twenty to thirty minutes the Sun appeared half risen from behind the Ice and to our astonishment there appeared a black spot of the size of a pea [small drawing] directly in the center of the Sun not extricated as yet from the water. That black spot was a three decker Man of War bound to Halifax and did not pass us before Meridian. I never shall forget that morning scenery the blandness of the atmosphere when coming on deck from a heated cabin in August.


            The “Liverpool” (the New York vessel I had engaged my passage in through Jon Goodhue) being her first voyage was struck by Ice unseen and immediately sunk – not far from the Grand Banks, her passengers were three days in boasts but finally reached St Johns with loss of baggage.


            Upon going up the River Mersey the Pilot got us aground while the Captain was shaving himself he (the Capt.) rushed up on deck + I do believe it was the only time I saw him angered during the voyage although the Frenchman had tried his patience severely.

            We arrived out in eighteen days never taking in reefing or starting our main + fore top sails from the day we started, so that when we tried to lower them when aground in the River they resisted our endeavors and the Pilot said it was great luck that we hadn’t had a blow – and on the stern past I noticed a large chip which I noticed when we left India Wharf.


            I was rec’d very kindly by my old fellow traveller Gair of the house of Willis, Latham + Gair, also by James Gore King whom I had known in College, since of the house of Prime, Ward + Co. N. York.


            I staid but a day or two in Liverpool and proceeded on to London stopping at Warwick at Mrs. Lake’s The “Warwick Arms” to see the Castle; at Birmingham Manchester and Oxford, visiting Stratford upon Avon at Warwick and Blenhiem near Oxford. Nothing could have surpassed the pleasure I received from the beautiful rural scenery of that season of the harvest time passing through Trentham – Lord Staffords splendid Parks filled with deer. On the top of a stage Coach going at the rate of ten

miles an hour, roads like a Parlor floor and bordered by beautiful hedges scenting the atmosphere. All of this is now lost to travellers shut up in rail cars, the steam pipes, blowing + screetching and frightening all within a mile with its rapid career. + the romance of those days will never be known again and cannot be imagined by the present generation.


            Arriving in London (by the recommendation of Mr Gair) I went to Dick’s Coffee House Temple Bar, celebrated as the residence of Addison and his Club a most cosey and desirable retreat from the noise + confusion of a large city, opening upon the Temple, retired, and having every comfort that the city could afford as regarded living and like all the distinguished Coffee Houses of those days with little ostentation. It was still a place where Poets Clergy – men and half pay officers congregated – and the proprietor Mrs Wright was a fine specimen of an English landlady she was very kind to me and before I left England she had removed to the Adelphi at the West End of London, where I renewed my acquaintance. I passed a week I believe at Dicks Coffee House giving myself time to look up my countryman Charles Robert Leslie to whom Allston gave me letters also to deliver my letter of credit to my Banker Mr Sam Williams Finsbury Square. Leslie very kindly called and accompanied me round at the West End in search of rooms into which I moved in Great Tickfield Street Portland Square, a gloomy street and not remarkable to an American excepting of its being opposite to the Tea Store and rooms where Benedict Arnold is said to have lived and died. Not wishing to give Leslie any more trouble, I staid there a few days and then looked out for myself and found a suit of rooms at the corner of Charles Street Middlesex Hospital which were over an Italian Grocers Store, which means one who sells only Tea + Coffee, sugar, flour + preserves and spices. Mr James Cane was English born + bread a warm hearted man of the strictest integrity, of a devout and religious bearing he of course desired of me some respectable reference. I referred him to my banker to whom he wrote by two penny post and rec’d for answer same day “Mr Mason is respectable”. Sig. Sam. Williams.  which rather astonished me who had not then been initiated into Uncle Sam’s brevity of speech. This gentleman once received a letter of eight pages upon an article (I believe salt) which the merchant wanted him to be concerned in as a speculation Mr Williams answered – “Salt wont do” – S. W.


            I staid nearly a year in these rooms but finding them too noisy being a great thoroughfare I moved for a trial into some rooms in Berners Street which not liking I quitted and moved into Great Marlborough Street the corner of Poland St. for which I paid 70 Guineas a year unfurnished – this net to Bow Street was the great Police Office of London, in same street opposite Blenhem Steps was my friend + countryman G. S.  Newton since so distinguished as an Academician also the Chalons academicians. Here I had all of the first floor and there were no other boarders and Mr Klose a German Baker supplied George 4th then Prince regent at Carlton Palace also many of the highest nobility.


            Shortly after moving here Sir George Collier (who commanded the squadron that failed in capturing the Constitution off St Salvador when under Stewart after the Battle of the Levant + Cyan with the two sloops he had captured) committed suicide, occasioned by some severe censure by the press, it made a great noise and created much excitement and sympathy in London, and brought back many of my reminiscences of Battles + escapes of our Navy and one particular sad scene I was a witness of in Newport Rhode Island. It was in the year 1816 I was sent to Newport to bond the cargo of a vessel that had put in there in distress + had been obliged to discharge – it happened a few days after Commodore Bainbridges Squadron consisting of the Independence, Macedonian, Congress, Fire Fly, Spark, + others had arrived there, I had been acquainted with many of the officers previous to their leaving Boston for Algiers + Tunis to chastise the pirates – a relative Ben Mason and myself were standing one day near the wharf where the boats pulled in from the Ships when the crew of a boat landed with a boy of a midshipman from Capt. Reeds Brig the Chippewar on reaching the wharf several of the crew attempted to desert and one in particular was chased by the Mid. who upon taking hold of his Jacket was kicked off and the sailor instantaneously received his dirk in his abdomen killing him on the spot.


            The second week after my arrival in London in August Lord Castlereagh destroyed himself with a penknife cutting the jugla artery he was unquestionably overworked and had previously had visions indicating weakness of the brain he was not popular with the masses and not much lamented, his death created a great change in relation to Mr Canning who had just been appointed Govn. General of India and was to have sailed in a week he was detained and appointed Foreign Minister in Lord Castlereagh’s place. And it was shortly after this that I witnessed in the House of Commons the angry and exciting scene between him and Henry Brougham now Lord Brougham – Mr Brougham charging him with tergiversation to which Canning gave the lie direct and the friends on both sides rushed towards them. Lord John Russell, Sir Francis Burdett, John Cam. Hebhouse now Lord Broughton Sir J. Mackintosh and others interfering – we in the gallery were turned out as they were calling for the Sergeant of Arms to take the secretary into custody, for the breach of the House, it was near daylight and I and my companion Mr John Carter Brown* of Providence who lost the tail of his coat while extricating himself from the crowd


*died July 1874


– were rejoiced to get out into Westminster air again.


            As a proof how perfectly secluded a person may live in a large city like London I will narrate as an illustration my own experience. I had like many others lived eight months in my rooms in Charles Street with a gentleman over me in the next story whose name I never enquired and whose person I never saw more than once or twice – Just after I moved in the spring I read in the morning Chronicle that a duel had been fought the day before in Hyde Park vicinity by the celebrated Italian Gen’l. Pepe and another foreign General. and that Genl Pepe Returned to his rooms No. 12 Charles Street Middlesex Hospital uninjured – and then I learnt from my old landlord Mr Cane who he was.


            Footes Grey the country residence of Lord Castlereagh where he committed the deed is about eight or ten miles from London and rather a gloomy place I have been told. I have an imperfect recollection of those having the least interest. The Scenery around the immediate vicinity of London is tame for five or six miles like most all large cities beginning to spread.


            Before I left the United States for Europe a Mr MacLean had given by will one hundred thousand dollars to the Massachusetts Hospital for the creation of a building

And I was requested by my brother in law the late Dr John C. Warren to procure the Surgical instruments for the same – in pursuance of which he provided me with instructions and letters to Mr Astly Cooper since Sir Astly and with a bill of credit on the Banker Sam. Williams for the amount required to pay for the same. I also received a letter to a former fellow student – in Edinburgh – of Dr Warrens a Mr Rootes of Ringston on Thames opposite Hampton Court Palace. I had been a fortnight or three weeks in London before I had got settled enabling me to attend to this commission. When I first called if I remember right, Mr Cooper was absent, and as the Hospital was not as yet prepared for the instruments, and it was very necessary to have the best advice where to procure them. I determined to wait until his return, which was only a short time, a week or ten days before Christmas I called in Spring Gardens where he received his patient’s and when I entered his entry I was handed a ticket which was No. 30 or thereabouts and was ushered into a room where the 29 before me were waiting their summons, there was a long table with books and papers to amuse. I waited three hours and then a servant entered and said Mr Cooper was going to Guy’s Hospital and we must retain our tickets and they should have precedence the next day. I went next day and Mr Cooper had been summoned to George the 4th Prince Regent. The next day I was prevented from going and my ticket was thrown out. The next day I went and received a ticket father off as the day with the Prince doubled the number of patients I got nervous in wasting my time so and receiving a kind invitation to pass Christmas with Mr Rootes as Kingston on Thames. I left London on top of one of the splendid Stage Coaches of those days and was wafted down to Hampton Court Palace “in less than no time” I was delighted with my reception and in half an hour was laughing at Mr Rootes jokes and wit and was as much at home as in a fathers house. Mr Rootes father was Surgeon to George III and resided at Hampton Court Palace. and consequently he as a boy was often brought in contact with the Kings sons he told me innumerable stories about the Prince and all of his brothers and he laughed immoderately at my despair of getting at Sir Astley Cooper – saying when you leave here some months hence I’ll put you in the way of passing all these tickets and of going right into his sanctum – but not if you hurry away from here for when I catch a real full blooded Yankee like you and Warren I always hold on to them. The next day was Sunday and we went to the Kingston Church and in the next Pew was the Earl of Liverpool and family, the Prime Minister. On Monday he carried me all over Hampton Court Palace where all the head servants made way for him, and then to Bushy Park, the next day to Richmond, and everywhere within a circuit of ten miles and all apparently with as much pleasure as though he had never been there before. It was a treat to me shut up in London as I had been in foggy November the gloomiest month in the year, called by the citizens the cut throat month and to this day I have recalled that week one of the happiest of my unmarried life, but all things have an end and in opposition to all his expostulations I found it necessary to return to London.        It was a great pleasure to me the Spring after this (the fashionable season) to reciprocate in a small degree the attentions he had show me – by carrying him, his wife and Miss Rootes, to the private Galleries of Lord Stafford, Sir John Liecester and Earl Grovesnor (nor Marquis of Westminster) by tickets given me by Sir Thomas Lawrence, which were very difficult to be obtained by the English gentry in those days, being distributed amongst their noble friends only.


            The evening before I left his house he said when bidding me good night “now my diffident friend when George (Cooper’s door keeper) opens the door for you tomorrow, put on a bold face cock your eye at him, clap a half crown in his hand and have your letters ready and say you don’t need any medicine and you’ll tire out those poor devils who have tickets by sitting with Astly while they are waiting.”       It turned out so to the letter – Sir Astly received me with great kindness and after a few minutes conversation said – suppose you look over my books on the tale, while George ushers in one or two more and then I’ll take you in my carriage to Grey’s Hospital and introduce you to Lundy the Hospital Instrument maker; and another day I’ll carry you to Weir’s in the Strand, who makes the best Lithotomy instruments, all of which Sir Astly kindly did, and invited me to breakfast with him, and gave me a very kind letter of introduction unasked for to Sir Thomas Lawrence as his young American friend, who in his turn sent me tickets to most of the Noblemens galleries for that season, a certain few only, being given to the President of the Royal Acady. to distribute amongst the first Poets and artists In those days the nobility were very sparing of their tickets to any one without a title.


            Sir Astley carried me to Maul the first Aurist in England requested him to examine my ears which doing he told me the drum was broken. Time and a french artist since has satisfied me to the contrary. Medical science for the last quarter of a Century ahs made a wonderful stride.    Not long after this my fellow townsman and College friend, the late Dr. Ed. H. Robbins came acrost the Atlantic expressly to consult Astley Cooper he went through the tedious course I did of sitting in Sir Astleys ante room waiting his turn, + being sick after doing so for some days gave up in despair and his Banker Mr Williams hearing his troubles said – why why don’t you ask Mason he is in communication with Cooper almost daily, that very day Dr Robbins drove to my rooms as I was about going to Sir Astleys, to whom I stated his case, and asking his address he said, tell him I will be with him at 1 o’clock tomorrow on my way to the Hospital. Robbins told me he came and cut him for a fistula (which he himself never believed he had) and charged him ten Guineas although a professional brother. Mentioning fees Mr. Rootes told me that Coopers professional income at that time was estimated at twenty thousand guineas per annum the largest of any professional man in the Kingdom.       A rich planter from Jamaica, West India Island, like Robbins, crost the Atlantic to be operated upon for the same complaint* which Sir Astley performed.


            Surgeons in England after their operations don’t attend to the patients as in our country, they have a regular physician – and also they were not allowed to make charges, but according to their celebrity the amount due them was understood by the public and if not paid accordingly they quit them; and upon first introduction before anything was said a guinea was deposited on Sir Astley’s table. When I sat in his room the first day he received two or three patients whilst I was there and before we left to go to Grey’s Hospital I saw him scramble the Guineas up and chuck them into a large drawer overflowing with them. It was also


*or rather the stone


customary when he performed an operation to take with him some young surgeon in case of accident to whom it was expected a small fee would be handed. To return to the Jamaica Planter – Sir Astley said to his nephew some time after the operation – come Brausby let us go and see the Planter, he must be getting well, they were ushered into his room and found him sitting bolstered up in his bed, after usual salutations Sir Astley said we have come to congratulate you upon your recovery and to bid you good bye. The planter called his servant to hand him his pocket book, and taking out a bill presented it to Brausby Cooper thanking him for his attendance and then from under his pillow drew out a nightcap and presented it to Sir Astley thanking him for his. Upon leaving and going down stairs Sir Astley said I am greatly astonished I had no idea it would effect his mind.


            Brausby answered – stop let us look at my Bill, it was for twenty five pound, a great fee for one merely a witness and Brausby said I don’t think he is deranged suppose you examine your night cap – which he did and found a check on his Banker for one thousand pounds. Mr Rootes said the largest fee for one operation that had ever been paid. Every year untill his – the planter’s death Sir Astley received a Hogshead of sugar and a Hogshead of Old Jamaica Spirits from his the planter’s estates.


            One day that I called upon Sir Astley by his appointment he told me he had received a visit a day or two before from Liston the great comic actor, than whom,

off the stage, there was no greater Hypochondriac in London, he said he was sitting with his back to the door, writing a prescription, when George his man ushered in the next number, and after finishing what he was about, he turned round and was seized with an ungovernable fit of laughter, destroying his elf control perfectly unusual for him, it was until some minutes had passed before he realized the extreme childishness + impropriety of his conduct and in the meantime Liston had risen, thrown his guinea upon the table and was making towards the door. Sir Astley begged him to stop and hear his excuse saying that he had seen him the night before in character of Tristam Tappy in Deaf as a Post and that he had been laughing all night and his sudden unexpected appearance before him quite overcame him. Sir Astley advised me to take regular exercise and recommended sparring with Crib the Pugilistic Champion who kept a Public House in Panton Street out of Haymarket Street, or taking Fencing lessons with Leslie the celebrated fencing master. I went to Crib who shortly after was thrown from his horse and he turned me over to Richmond the black, one of his former antagonists, who had a regular sparring establishment in Wigmore Street Charring Cross, where I used to meet Admiral Blackward and many officers of Army + Navy + near to which was the Five Court the rendezvous of all the prize ring and I might say blackguards, although it would include some of the highest personage of the Kingdom – I recollect carrying Judge Charles Jackson and Mr Francis Lee to Richmonds + Fives Court amongst other sights of London.


            It was a place however I did not see fit to introduce the Rev. Dr. William Ellery Channing to although he sometimes got by accident into position he thought worse. It was towards evening in the summer of 1823 I had been driving out, and returning to my rooms found a note from the Rev. Dr. Channing soliciting me to come to him immediately that evening Saturday it was dated Leicester Square No. 23. it rather surprised me as regards the location and to imagine who could have recommended it to the Rev. Dr.    I went forthwith and the Dr. said he had arrived that afternoon from the continent and made an appointment to go into the city the next morning to hear or meet (I forget which) Dr. Rees the Encyclopedia author and he wanted to ask the favor of me to come in the morning + accompany Mrs. Channing + Miss Susan Wells* to Whitehall Chapel where the guards went and the music was fine – I left him about eight o’clock with this understanding and had to write to a friend Mr Thomas Dickenson Russell Square for tickets for seats which he had offered to obtain for an occasion like this. As the Guards did not go in until 11 (eleven) I made no great haste Sunday morning but elaborately dressing myself walked quietly down to Leicester Square. Whether I was


*1876 [     ] dead


awake or asleep I could not for a moment tell upon the girls saying there was no such persons there. I looked at the house and number, they were the same and had it have been at the present time rife with Spiritualism. I should have thought I was bewitched, the keeper of the house hearing the long and loud talking at the door came forward and reluctantly said that a gentleman and two ladies had arrived there and staid a few hours the day before but had left a 10 o’clock in the evening, and upon my asking why + wherefore and if he had left any message for anyone, she answered with considerable hesitation she believed he did say if any one called he had gone to the Adelphi I called a cab and in a wonderfull state of amazement rode to the Adelphia where Mrs Channing + Miss Wells received me with laughter, it appeared that Dr Channing had in some way heard or got the idea, that the house was not a reputable one. A short time after this Dr Channing made an appointment for me to accompany him to the Stafford Gallery I believe or some other gallery and as on our way in the carriage he enquired of me if it would be convenient to stop at Nugee’s in St. James Street certainly said I, it is near Cleveland house Lord Staffords where we ware going but why do you want to go there I asked – why do you ask such a question said the Doctor seeing me smile, merely because he is the crack tailor of highest ton + fashion in London and the figure of Dr Channing in a plaided tight waisted coat, such as Nugee made even for some of the Bishops who were much dressed in those days – quite upset me and my desire to laugh was caught by Mrs Channing + Miss Wells + even finally – the Doctor himself arriving at Nugee’s the coachman was sent to request his presence and Dr Channing asked him if he had made a fashionable coat certainly sir – said Nugee – in the highest fashion – Mr Nugee  - said the Dr – I am a plain man, did you understand – I am a clergyman – I am in great want of a plain coat to dine in this day. What time do you dine Dr. C.? at 7 o’clock. I will make and send you a new coat before that time.


            There were resident in London at this time several Americans Judge Jackson + wife Miss Jackson and Francis Lee but not at the time that Dr Channing and family were there, and I cannot recollect whether before or after – but Judge Jackson staid some months and took rooms in Conduit Street not far from where I resided, and went with us to the Convent Garden Theatrical Fund dinner and he + I were placed at the head of one of the legs of the table at which sat the Duke of York who presided , bringing us close to + before him no one intervening at which at first the Judge rather demurred fearing I believe that he might be seen by some of the Lawyers or Judge that might be there and publicly noticed, but there was no help for it, for Matthews the elder acted as high steward and he had just returned form the United States and last from Boston where he had been much noticed and particularly by my classmate Wm. H. Elliott + he had called upon me and asking the names of the Americans + had given us these seats with the invitation to the dinner, being the best seats to hear + see. Before giving his American Budget which he was called upon for after the cloth had been removed and the King + Royal family had been toasted and a few speeches from the Duke + others at the Presidents table had been made Matthews walked up and placing his head between the Judge + myself begged that no offence might be taken at anything he might say, the Judge assured him we should enjoy it as much as any one – for a few minutes this was rather awkward for it drew the eyes of all present towards us, he went back to his place and commenced and we laughed as much as any one.


            There were several young Doctors from the United States attending Lawrence oculist and other lectures at this time and they several of them resided in Thavie’s Inn Court near Holborn bars Oxford Street, they had been in Paris for a year or two + before returning home were making London a short visit. They were Dr. Winslow Lewis, Dr John C. Hayden, the late Dr Joshua H. Hayward, Dr Kortwright N. Y. + one or two others, also John Langdon Elwyn, and Harding the Artist they used to call upon me frequently as a rendezvous.


            Dr Hayward was taken very sick and one night I was watching with him, he lying in a small room and I sitting in an adjoining room overlooking Newgate Prison + St. Sepulcher Church, it was a heavenly night of a full moon and the beams were falling bright upon St. Paul’s Cathedral which I was gazing at when a tap on the door startled me, and saying come a gentleman of very imposing mein and appearance entered and asked how Hayward did there was no other light but the moon by which I could distinguish his features, but I thought I had never seen a finer brow and more open countenance, he asked if I was Hayward’s countryman and then many questions about America. I understood the next day that it was Lawrence the Oculist.

Just dead 1866.


There was a splendid review of the household troops this year at Hounston Heath, by the Duke of York in person. They consist of nine regiments, the Reds and the Blues equally divided and wear breast plates + Helmets and are mounted on coal black horses; every man six feet, with short guns suspended on the back, they are scattered of equal distances, over the Kingdom, one regiment always being round the person of the sovereign, from which they are called the Household Troops. Also the guards and these are the men that Lord Wellington reserved to meet the [Curissiems?] at Waterloo, when he exclaimed “Up guards and at them.” They are officered by men of title and the highest rank their Colonels, are Generals in the Army, and when they are reviewed by one of the Royal Family, they are obliged to head their Regiments, as at this Review the Duke of Wellington headed his Regiment, the Prince of Sax-Cobourg (since Kind of Belgium) headed another, Prince of Cumberland (since King of Hanover) headed another + the Marquis of Auglesie another and so on. It was a splendid review of ten thousand mounted men, all six feet, on large Black Horses, the men in burnished armor, and so shortly after Waterloo, at their first review brought from all parts of the Kingdom. The day was fine + the spectators from London + neighbourhood were said in the papers to have been little short of one hundred thousand. I have seen large bodies of troops since but never such a sight as this.


I went out one day to Hammer Smith (I think it was) beyond Kensington Gardens to see David Wilkie, accompanied by Leslie + Newton – he showed us the dead colour of his picture, of the King receiving the keys of Holywood House upon his visit to Scotland, in which were portraits of Wellington, Sir Walter Scott and others besides George 4th. I recollect Wilkie’s saying that he never painted anything however small without the article before him – either I, Leslie or Newton, asked him how he accomplished the Bear in his painting of the Beadle and the Vagrants, he said he had him from the Exeter Exchange the Great London Menagerie, whilst we were talking the Duke of Wellington was announced + before we could get out of the room he entered [many words struck out, looks like: politely saying he hoped he did not disturb us] – Since that period Leslie has painted him himself – at that period the Duke was not more than fifty two. ---


            There was a funny story told of him at that time in London relating to Waterloo whether true or not who can say. In the middle of the Battle of Waterloo he saw in plain clothes a man riding about on a cob. Amongst the fiercest fires during a temporary lull the Duke beckoned to him and he rode up to him. He asked him who he was and what business he had there, he replied he was an English man accidently at Brussels that he had never seen a fight and wanted to see one, the Duke told him he was in instant danger of his life he answered, not more than your grace, and they parted but every now and then he saw the Cobman riding about in the smoke and at last having nobody (his aids were wounded and scattered) to send to a regiment he again beckoned to this little fellow and told him to go up to that Regiment and order them to charge, giving him some mark of authority the Col, could recognize away he galloped and in a few moments the Duke saw the order obeyed, the Duke asked him for his card and found in the evening when the card fell out of his sash that he lived at Birmingham and was a button manufacturer, when at Birmingham the Duke enquired of the firm and found he was their Traveller and then absent, at the Duke’s request he called upon him in London, the Duke was happy to see him and said he had a vacancy in the mint of 800 pounds per year were accounts were wanted. The little Cobman said it was just the thing and the Duke installed him. I had this in 1822 from an Officer at Waterloo.


            Speaking of Waterloo recalls the visit of Marshall Grouchy’s to the United States not being able to return to Paris, he came to Boston where he dined with my father. I remember him perfectly he had an extraordinary retreating forehead, quite a small man, and was greatly condemned for his inactivity and desertion (as they thought) of Napoleon on the field, had he have arrived with his army with the Prussians simultaneously no one doubts what would have been the issue. God rules and Napoleons time was up. Grouchy returned to Europe again, he was a great friend of Lafayette’s to whom he sent him servant Sebastian as body servant – upon the Generals visit to this Country in 1824 which I had from Lafayette himself. There were several French Generals who came to Boston after Waterloo.


            To return to my residence in London, Leslie lived in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square Washington Irving at Mrs. Warricks in the Strand – Newton in Great Marlborough Street five doors from my residence – Harding I think in Bemers Street – Joshua bates in Russell Square. (Sir Thomas Lawrence in Russell Square) also Mr Dunlop who bought Leslie’s picture of Sir Roger de Coverly, also there lived there Mr. Murdock, Mr Barksdale + Mr Thomas Dickinson all more or less connected with America, the three first from Richmond Virginia Tobacco Merchants also Jeremiah Hoffman from Baltimore all apparently settled for life in London and all advanced in age and opulent and entertaining, at Mr. Murdocks an old bachelors I frequently dined with Americans although he himself dressed in the plainest old fashioned style small clothes light drab and white stockings ribbed and oftentimes coarse and darned, his steward and three or four men servants were dressed in black with white cravats + gloves he was a fine old gentleman of the old school and I can never forget him, he must have long since been in his grave.


            The Greenwich Fair took place once a year. I recollect jumping up on one of the Stage Coaches that ran regularly between that place and London and passing the day in seeing the innumerable sights consisting of Gypsies Punch + Judy’s, Theatres under Canvas etc. etc. and girls + boys rolling down the hill etc. etc. Fatigued + greatly tired of sight seeing I hailed one of the returning coaches and obtained a seat on top next to a gentleman who was exceedingly civil in making way for me and whose manner + conversation was above the ordinary class one meets on Stage Coaches. I bid him good night without finding out who he was. I had been cautioned so often about asking names or giving my own in London, that I was exceedingly reticent and yet for a long time after so pleased was I that I regretted in this instance I had not. It was some months after that I received from a friend a ticket to the Westminster Election dinner at which Sir Francis Burdett presided, there was great speaking by Sir J. Makintosh, John James Lambton (afterwards earl of Durham) Mr Coke of Holkam (afterwards Earl of Leicester) John Cam. Hobhouse (now Lord Broughton) Lord Ebington + Lord Nugent, all reformers at that time. I don’t recollect ever having seen Lord John Russell to mark him although I must have seen him I think in the house of commons, or the galleries of Theaters during my residence in London at the present dinner some toast brought up upon the table (it was the fashion for the speaker to get up upon the table so all could hear and see) a gentm. In whom I discovered my Stage Coach friend and his name called out Mr Denman (since Lord Denman) I purchased on Ludgate Hill Fleet Street some silk handkerchiefs of a deep scarlet, very showy, as I was loitering about at the East end in the precincts of the city asking very particularly if they would wash retaining colors. I was assured that they were manufactured by themselves and the colours well set. I paid high for them at that time several shillings stg. apiece. The first time coming form my wash woman they had faded. I went to the Miss Horn and they said my washwoman must have used strong lye, they declined taking them back and I went home making up my mind to put up with the loss, they lost their brilliancy and looked like dirty white coming from the wash, in going into the city I called and stated my case to the head of the house in his private room and he said he could not help me the sale was made by his partners. At a dinner party a short time after speaking of the honesty of the trades people I mentioned my experience with a house of some note on Ludgate Hill an English gentleman quite indignant at the treatment I had received observed, I tell you what I should o in such a case I went home and followed his directions – I gave my address and stated that if the money was not refunded me and the Handkerchiefs taken back before the meeting of the Aldermans Court next day I should lay the case before Lord Mayor Waithman who was a judge of such matters being a large shawl and silk merchant in Fleet Street (and at that time) in less  than four hours a clerk was sent to me rec’d. the h’d’f’s. and refunded the money.


Chester Harding came to London and brought letters to me from my friends in Boston and we became quite intimate the 22d. of Feb’y. we dined together at Richardsons Hotel, Convent Garden market Harding ordered the dinner whilst I read the papers – having the preceeding Fall arrived from Boston where he had been in the habit of eating Turtle Soup for a quarter of a dollar a large bowl full at Rouillards and reading that you get every thing in London, he was greatly surprised when they brought in a silver tureen with about a cup full and more so when the charge for it alone was fifteen shillings Sterling -          At another time he came rushing into my room saying - come Mason let us go and dine together, I changed my coat in a hurry and started off with him to Chancery Lane (I believe it was) where we ordered a first rate dinner – with wine and passed an hour or two in chat, it getting late we called for the bill, and then Harding said please pay the bill and I will pay next all right, says I. but in feeling in my pocket I found in hanging my coat I had left my pocket book in my other coat. We called in the Landlord he was very angry, said that was a common every day excuse and he should not let us go until we paid him, and threatened to send us to a Springing House. We finally thought of our watches which he priced at a Jews hard by and then let us go, we redeemed them very early next day and kept our secret – It was worth what we suffered in mortification to learn what this adventure taught of the ways of London and the hardness of the human heart in its landlords.


            During my sparring lessons with Richmond the black several of my American acquaintances asked to accompany me to his rooms, one gentleman of Providence R.I. a venerable father of the church, since whose name I should not be thanked for mentioning and who might blush that he is recollected to have ever been at a prize fight – proposed to me that we should take a Post Chaise and go to Epping Forrest + see the fight between Cooper the Gypsy and Bishop Sharp I assented and the agreement being made at Richmonds room, he asked if he might be allowed to go on the outside of our prost chaise, thinking he would be rather serviceable than otherwise in getting a place and not imagining that he had anything to do with the fight, we assented, the day was fine and we had to pass the whole length of Fleet Street, all along of which we heard the shout of there goes Richmond there goes Richmond, my friend + myself pulled down the curtains and crouched down to the bottom of the carriage and would have given anything to have been clear of Richmond that day, not having the most distant thought he was to be one of the seconds, which he was, we deposited him on the round waited to see one round and then returned to London at full speed sick at our stomachs + disgusted. The sight of Blood always effects me . . –


            I joined a drawing class at Sass gallery during which time Clias, Napoleon’s celebrated Gymnasium master, made a visit to London we agreed to have him give us an exhibition at Sass’s rooms and we invited several of the Royal Academicians to see him. I invited Sir Thomas Laurence. Leslie + Newton, - Sass invited Turner, Wilkie, and others, Clias published a book which I sent to Dr. J. C. Warren . .


            I also drew at Somerset House the Royal Academy that winter Fuscli being the keeper, he was often very crass when looking over the drawings but was excusable on account of his age over seventy.


            I went one Sunday to a church at the upper end of Oxford Street to hear Edward Irving. The Church and street was crowded and the papers stated he went into the pulpit by a ladder back of it with a window behind the pulpit. I just saw him.


            I also went down to the sale of the furniture and articles of Virtue of Fonthill Abbey the property of Mr Beckford, the author of Vathec a magnificent Estate with an impassible fence, High Wall fourteen miles round it where Beckford himself had lived solitary and alone not allowing any one to approach him, not the servants, he was provided by what was called a dumb waiter in the wall, and whenever he walked out, the servants were ordered to keep out of sight. He never saw any one or allowed any one to come into his grounds – he was said to have kept some hundred workmen at night employed in building the Towers by torchlight the papers were filled with his eccentricities, he was immensely wealthy, rich in West India Plantations. The Estates was not far from Salesbury Cathedral, Tickets to visit it previous and during the sale were sold at a Guinea each, and so great was the curiosity of the Londoners to see it, that eighty thousand tickets were sold the fortnight previous to the sale and rooms and board was provided by Phillips + Co the auctioneers in the Abbey for those who desired to stay a day or two at a farther expense.          Speaking of Fonthill Abbey recalls to my remembrance a sad affaire connected in some measure with this place. There was a young Artist named Foster son of a deceased sister of John Wilson Crocker, Secretary to the Admiralty, who adopted him he was well educated with fine talents + very popular, his uncle the proprietor of the John Bull periodical, was anxious for him to relinquish painting, of which he had little or no proficiency or chance of success and go to India where a high birth could have been undoubtedly obtained through his uncle’s influence at that time. Foster was wedded to society, belonged to several Clubs and from his uncle’s position admitted most anywhere I used to meet him at Newton’s Rooms, at the Academy and places of Amusement where I went. He made a foolish bet at one of the clubs that he would go down to Fonthill get into the grounds and dine with Mr Beckford a thing that Beckford’s friends thought impossible he accomplished, with hard labor, and great risk of spring guns + torn clothes, getting over the Wall towards night, he was then nearly two miles from the Abbey which he reached after once or twice losing his way in the different bye paths it now becoming late he rang at the great door for some time until a domestic appeared with a most astonished countenance at seeing him and told him he could not see Mr Beckford or enter, and it would be the loss of his place to carry any message to his master Foster felt the awkwardness of his of his position for the first time it so happened that Mr. Beckford was not far when the bell rang and listening had heard the conversation, and now stepped forward and asked why he was favored with this visit, the quiet cool austerity of his countenance which Foster never had seen before, quite abashed him, and Foster made a clean breast of it, narrating his foolish bet, Mr Beckford, with a ghastly smile ask’d him to walk in, and ringing a bell ordered refreshments and a servant to show Mr Foster the Abbey and then left him after a reasonable time + Mr. Foster had seen the Abbey and finished his supper, Mr Beckford again made his appearance and said he had come to bid him goodnight, and that the servant would let him out. Foster then asked him if he would allow his servant to accompany him to the Lodge, and open the gate for him, Mr Beckford said decidedly, no, he was an uninvited guest, he had made him, Mr B. the subject of a foolish bet, bringing his character before the public, nevertheless while in his house he had felt it his duty to treat him hospitably, but that being done, he must get out, as he got in, and he ordered the servant to show him the door.


            Foster was wandering about all night and in the morning was let out at the Lodge. It made a great talk in London and Foster was said to have been very harshly recd. by his uncle and not a long time after he was found in a London Coffee House with his brains blown out, having committed suicide.


            The Residence of my Banker Sam Williams in Finsbury Square was full three or four miles from my rooms. There were some hundred of Paddington Coaches that continually plied between the Bank and the West End, but I was obliged to go to Regents Park in those days to take the Coaches, and if in a hurry I rode, but if fair, I preferred walking and observing the shops passing up Fleet Street by St. Pauls to the Square, one day being out of cash I made my arrangements to go to the city + supply myself, read the American papers at Davies’s New England Coffee House dine on my way home at Dolly’s celebrated Beef Steak House, and then go and see Miss Maria Tree in Clare the maid of Milan (and hear her sing Sweet Home written for her by my Townsman John Howard Payne and set to music by Bishop) at Convent Garden Theater. I arrived at the Pit Entrance early and stood amongst the first to enter when the doors should be opened, the Pit in those days next to Private Boxes was the fashionable seat both for ladies and gentlemen threw was quite a genteel looking young man next to me in the crowd who made several civil remarks and entered into conversation with me and as the crowd was very great behind us pushing continually forward towards the Box Office we could not be separated. I obtained a seat in front next one to the Orchestra and my companion next one on my right hand we had a fine view of the actors, and also turning our backs to them when the curtain was down of the whole house. It was the first performance of this play and of Miss Tree’s singing Sweet Home written by my acquaintance Payne, and I was deeply absorbed, and somewhat tired, by my days walk in the city, and its sights and moreover the house was excessively heated by the crowd so much so that after the 1st Act my friend on the right arose and said he could not bear the heat any longer and went out, after a moment or so I arose and turning round, a lady who sat behind asked me to observe my right hand pocket of my pants, which had the lappet cut off exposing the white lining to view and my friend on the right who could not bear the heat had gone off bearing my steel purse with ten gold guineas I had taken up that morning at my Bankers.


            Speaking of Maria Tree recalls an incident of much interest a young man a member of Parliament rich and highly educated became greatly attached to her and she to him, his mother a proud and haughty woman opposed it on account of her position. Some unpleasant news in opposition to their engagements reached her ears after a rehearsal at the Theatre one day and ordering her coachman to stop at an Apothecary’s on her way home she procured a bottle of laudanum and swallowed a large quantity the news flew like lightening all over London that Maria Tree was dying, the member of Parliament flew to her and she became Mrs Bradshaw in less than a month afterwards in spite of the mother.


            At Sadlers Wells Theatre – Joe Grimaldi was drawing overflowing houses and was esteemed like Garrick of Earlier days, the first in his line. At Drury Lane there were Liston, Yates, Young, Kean the Elder. Terry (Sir Walker Scotts friend) Braham + a host of minor actors – At Convent Garden were Macready St. Clair  Dowton, Munden, Miss Stephens since Countess of Essex, and Miss Foote since Countess of Harrington, and a hose of minor actors – this was in 1822 to 1825 Charles Mathews the Senior gave recitations on his own account at different Theatres without assistance. The Haymarket a Summer Theatre brought forward Miss Paton (afterwards Lady Lenox) + then again Mrs John Wood. I saw her the first night she made her debut on the London boards and often afterwards in my own country. –


            The Italian Opera House had a great run in 1823. Madam Catalani, Madam Camporesi, Madam Rousi de Beguis, Madam Vestris, Rosini led the Orchestra on a piano, to h8s own composition Tancrede. – Madam Pasta, Paul, Mademoiselles Mercondotti, since Mrs Hughes Ball, who was called the Golden Ball from his immense wealth – also a hose of minor artists – Madam Catalani was at the height of fame and beauty and I can never forget the first night I saw her in all her majesty before the footlights at the Opera covered with jewelry + diamonds presents from most of the the sovereigns and then contrast her with the old lady with a moab cap who invited us to her house under the name of Madame Valabrique at Frisoli Florence in 1834 to hear a nice sing – who she was bringing out, surely the change was great and brought many moral reflections to my mind as regarded past + future in the same city, near the Borgo Pinti, opposite to the monastery where Horatio Greenough the Sculptor and myself were living, previous to my marriage, a great fat coarse looking woman was pointed out to me as the once celebrated madam Rousi de Beguis who Newton asked as a great favor to sit to him and who he + I then thought the most lovely bewitching female we had ever seen. – sitting on the balcony of an ordinary third class house – she looked dirty and as thought she was or had been smoking It often occurs to me how few people would marry for beauty alone if they could look ahead first on this picture then on that. Leslie carried + introduced me when I first arrived in London to a very nice chop house in Wardom Street, where he, Newton, and Washington Irving frequently dined, it being very near to my rooms in Great Marlborough Street. I often frequented it after I had moved there, being a regular attendant the landlord gave me a little private room with only one person beside myself who I always met there at the same hour I dined he was a foreigner a very handsome man and exceedingly polite + dignified and I became quite intimate with him, but in London no one thinks of asking or has any curiosity about the names of those they meet at Chop Houses or Theatres – the consequence was I for some months meeting, dining and conversing with him, nearly at the same hour, at the same place, had never acquired his name, until one day walking down St. James Street – and looking at the Print Shops I came suddenly upon a portrait of my Chop-house friend, and found it was the celebrated Opera Singer Ambrogetti he after became a monk - . . . . 

Jacob Perkins with his family from Newburyport were residents of London and was exhibiting his Steam gun to Lord Wellington and the Army.

I was several times at his house + in company with him.


            There came to London this year a man calling himself John Dunn Hunter who represented him self as having been adopted and lived all of his life amongst the Far Western tribes of uncivilized Indians, having no recollection of his parents excepting a fight and some white people being murdered and he the only one spared, a boy of some four or five years old being brought up with the Indians boys and becoming a Hunter, and having in the numerous Indian Wars been captured and in that way passed from one tribe to another of all of which he claimed to have some knowledge and finally he was purchased by a trader named John Dunn and having been called the hunter by the Indians he assumed the name of John Dunn Hunter and came to England to get assistance to civilize the Indians. His life and wonderful escapes and long residence amongst the Tribes were published with a portrait by Leslie to whom he brought letters from King at Washington – He had a wonderful run as a Lion amongst the English he breakfasted with the Prince Regent, Dined with the Duke of Sussex – passed some time with Mr Coke (afterwards Earl of Leicester) at Holkham and like Prince Sanders the negro school – master in Belknap street Boston who I used to give old books to when in College, he was courted by the English Nobility male + favorite + feasted at a time too, (1823) when Literary well brought up gentlemen of the United States could not obtain a notice of any kind, it is one of the strange unaccountable features in the English Character of a piece with the exhibition of a desire to assail and break up the American Republic which she has so signally shown in the part she has taken in favor of the South against the North in establishing Slavery and which ever before has been one of her most effective weapons in abusing the North for suffering it. In a printed but unpublished work headed Egotistography issued by the friends of Chester Harding since his death – Harding writes Dec. 28th 1823, “I am often vexed to hear the Americans abuse Mr Hunter in the manner they do I have spent much time in his company and I think him one of the most remarkable men I ever knew.”


            Harding had many reasons for thinking so at that time, but for Hunter – Harding in all probability never would had a chance of painting any of the nobility Hunter introduced him to the Duke of Sussex and begged the Duke to sit for a portrait for him Hunter, it cost the Duke nothing, and the Duke gave him letters to Duke of Hamilton and to Mr Coke + so on + so on. Mr Coke to Mr Owen.


If the Americans traduced Hunter it was because he was a disagreeable suspicious character, nothing of a gentleman, + imposing on the credulity of the English in an American garb and had an Indian temper and had never been anything more than a trapper amongst the Indians all of which I learnt of Mr Duponceau the great Indian linguist, who I sit near to at the dinner given to Lafayette by the Cincinnati in New York upon our arrival from Europe. Mr. Duponceau asked me many questions about Hunter who I had just left in London in full blast amongst Lords + Ladies and then remarked the Book he had just published in London was full of untruths about the language and the tribes he quoted as having lived amongst – and he feared he was an imposter. Six years after this Genl. Cass Secretary of War to whom Genl. Jackson then President introduced me – desiring him to give me letters to Gov. Clark Indian Agent at Missouri – told me that Hunter was a decided imposter that he had never heard of such a person in all his transactions amongst the far West Indian Tribes + Territory of which he had been governor.


In addition to the above the late Hon. John Pickering (with whom I became intimate by association as joint Directors in a Wharf Company) one of the best Indian linguists

In our Country expressed great surprise at the gullibility of the English nation.

I will dismiss John Dunn Hunter by saying he returned to the country loaded with farming implements, cows + cattle presented by the distinguished farmer Coke of Holkham, with gold watches, pipes of many kinds (of which the duke is said to have had some hundreds) all of which it has appeared were obtained under the most extraordinary deception that was ever practiced upon a Nation.


            Shortly after his arrival he started for the far west on Horseback with an Indian companion who shot him in the back as his horse was stooping to drink, and left him dead in the brook carrying of the splendid gold repeater given him by the Duke of Sussex his pocket book, Horse +c +c. +++N. B. See article in 50th No of North American Review written by Genl. Cass on Hunter.

Had Hunter been what he assumed to have been we may be sure Washington Irving then resident in London would not have passed him over without some mention more particularly when he went among the Indians on the Prairies sometime after and wrote his tour on the Prairies.


            In London were many, a great many infinitely superior portrait painters to Harding who lived then and have since died in Poverty, but Hardings association with this Lion of the West and his own singular Western Backwood Education which he took care to embellish, with also a strong power of taking a likeness, altogether with a fine large powerfull + manly frame and open countenance had great weight with these noble sitters who never retained the portraits or paid for them themselves but sit to him as a charity. Upon his return to this country he was thought not to have painted so well + truthfully as when he left it and his portraits of individuals have mostly disappeared and given place to better paintings, he had one most unfortunate habit which he never seemed able to control + get rid of, and which made walking with him in the streets of London exceedingly disagreeable that of never using a handkerchief how he got along at the noblemens Country houses, has often occurred to me. In our own country I am sorry to say I sometimes witness men well dressed guilty in the streets of the same horrible habit. There are men brought up in the wilderness suffering under every deprivation who have a delicacy as regards cleanliness in their rags that seems innate and there are others, fine, open hearted, intelligent naturally quick in comprehension, but never refined. We can’t have everything in this world and refinement when not innate can only be acquired by mixing with refined society.


            I went one day to Leslie by his request to see a painting of Sancho in the presence of the Duchess, whilst there, the Earl of Egremont came in, for whom it was painted, who seemed much pleased with it, and before going out asked, what he was indebted for it, Leslie said he hoped his Lordship would not think him exorbitant in asking the price he had for – May Day – in time of Queen Anne which was 300 guineas – His Lordship said by no means, and took his departure the next day Leslie received a check for 500 guineas which he returned saying his lordship had made a mistake, the Earl sent it back saying that Leslie had made a mistake, not him. I went out one day to dine with Mr Henry Bromfield, not far from where Regents Park now is, then little known and with only the Rangers house. Mr Bromfield lived upon the skirts of the city near to him was a large field in which was a brick kiln, from which field the aeronaut Graham tried on that day, to make his first ascent which Mr Bromfield thought would be a gratifying sight to me, when he asked me. Mr Graham had disappointed the public twice before and there was an ugly spirit observed amongst the crowd of some thirty to forty thousand people collected on the field it was nearly inflated when they began to throw brick bats and in an instant the silk was perforated and a most horrible melee took place in the crowd in which some twenty or more were trampled to death, the Horse Guards were sent for, and the crowd dispersed – Since – Graham has been the most successful aeronaut in Europe. An English mob is a fearful sight and the English gentleman, disbelieving and deriding the idea that a Republic could ever stand in a decided mob used to jeeringly say to me: wait until you have a mob in your large city of New York and see where your self government will go to, and sure enough the mob and destruction of the Catholic Nunnery at Charlestown soon after took place and was in all of the London Papers, causing us to blush (Americans resident in London)   Leslie, Newton, Harding and myself were invited most every Sunday to dine at Mr Samuel Williams the American Banker in Finsbury Square where we often met Col. Aspinwall, Tom Morton Jones and any stray Americans that might by chance be in London. Uncle Sam, as we were in the habit of calling him was a fine old gentleman of the old school very reticent, seldom speaking, but well pleased to hear the others talk we used to ask each other when meeting if we were going to dine at Silence Hall the following Sunday, during many Sundays I enjoyed his hospitality. I never saw Mr Williams have a shade upon his face but once and then he invited us to meet the Hon. Christopher Hughes our minister at Stockholm Sweden, the dinner hour was 7 O’clock and Uncle Sam expected punctuality in all, and never waited, this evening of course he waited Mr Hughes arrival, to near 8 o’clock when the door bell rang and he ordered the dinner, the door opened and instead of Mr Hughes the servant brought in a note which Mr Williams read and we saw his face flush as he put it into his pocket and pushed round his wine, after dinner and when the cloth was removed he threw the note on the table for us to read, which read thus – “Mr Hughes begs to state to Mr Williams that having met the Duke of Wellington this afternoon and been invited to dine with him, he must postpone dining with Mr Williams to some other day.” I don’t believe he ever received another chance from Uncle Sam.


Amongst the Americans I met in London during my residence there were George Joy and Harrison Gray both Tories who left with the English during the Revolution, old men, and having little sympathy for their Native Land at heart although Joy corresponded with President Madison and I thought from conversation with him was tired of his expatriation.


            Dr Joshua H. Hayward and myself left London and via Brighton crossed the Channel to Drippe on our way to Paris


            Amongst my steady friends in London was Mr + Mrs. Robert Grant to whom I was indebted for many kindnesses and with whom I used to often dine in Tavistoke Square and their friends Mr + Mrs Bell the former Mr Grants Partner – I cannot forget one one excursion I made with them in Mr Bells barouche + four, to Epsom Races from some little incidents that took place there, next to Mr Bells carriage there was drawn up the Duke of Argylls carriage in which were seated the Duchess and three ladies Pagets her daughters by the Marquis of Anglesey who, when Earl of Uxbridge had left his wife and eloped with the wife of Sir Henry Wellesly and his wife having obtained a divorce married the Duke of Argyll. Whilst looking at them the son the Earl of Uxbridge rode up to them on horseback + paid his respects. Mr Bell told me who they were and gave me this romantic account, but what brings it back forcible to my remembrance is that the Earl of Uxbridge we then saw has since become the Marquis of Anglesey and eloped with Mr Bell’s sons wife, he an old man, she a young bride. Surely the English are a strange people as regards adoration of rank, I saw and conversed with her in George Peabody’s Box at Drury Lane in 1854, a very pretty woman, and the Earl of Uxbridge was afright before he became the Marquis.

            Hayward and myself selected the rout to Paris via Brighton and Drippe that we might have a chance to dine off to Turbot, Brighton being the only place where they were taken, we lost our Turbot after all as the fisheries were what they called farmed out and all sent to London and no one dare to sell one in Brighton we had no reason to regret taking that rout however for the old seaport of Drippe was the most picturesque old place I ever was in and I would not have missed it on any account and coming from the crowded City of London in the Middle of June the Salt air and sea breezes of this old fishing town on the French Coast was delightful and the dress of the Pesantry more antique than anything I had ever seen or have since seen in France since that time I have made the passage from Folkstone to Boulogne three or four times + from Southampton to Havre an equal number but have never had my curiosity so much excited or enjoyed myself more. We found an excellent Inn nearly all to ourselves and plenty of fish just from the ea, good French Wines, and nice clean white sheets + high beds, and we staid a day or two, so pleased and refreshed were we, coming from the close air of our large city, and on our way into another it recollected my former visits to Cohasset and Nahant in those days when we could roam about on the rocks and the beach and enjoy watching the fishermen in their Dory’s coming in at sunset from the sea. Times have changed and we with them, crowds of residents have now rendered the last named place a fashionable resort and no longer a place to pass a quiet time in repose as in former days, we have no doubt that Drippe remains to this day in status quo as when we saw it forty three years ago and may be has not so good an Inn the travellers taking generally the steamers of the other routes, then all were sailing boats very nearly of an equality and the different distances decided the choice. Hayward and myself put up at the Montmorenci Hotel in Paris Rue Richelieu Paris and passed three or four weeks doing up the Lions and ransacking the Galleries, going to St. Cloud, Bois Boulogne, Versailles, Fontainbleu, all these places seemed to breathe of Napoleon. Paris was only seven hundred thousand in those days. We saw Louis 18th go to the old church the day of the fete de dieu surrounded by troops and I recollect perfectly the haughty erect bearing of the Duchess D’Angouleune as she walked behind the King also the Duchess de Beni~


Bishop Chevruse left a card for me at the Hotel inviting me to visit him at Montaubar. Hayward + I dined with Mr and Mrs. Sam. Wells the Banker and I dined with Ben Wiggin and wife, and at Hotinqueis the French Bankers – and becoming tired we took our passage on board the New York Packet Ship “Cadmus” Capt. Allyne to sail the 1st of July – a few days after Capt. Allyne came and told us he had offered his ship to the Marquis de Lafayette who had accepted it and in doing so requested that we two gentlemen the only passengers then taken might be his fellow passengers but declined taking any more. We staid in Paris some days waiting for July the first had passed and on the second Hayward + I went down to Havre – Capt Allyne telling us that Lafayette had written him, he would meet him there on the 4th. Of all placed in the world which it has fallen to my lot to have been detained in by the wind or other causes, this seaport is the most uninteresting – Lafayette became sick and with promises of coming day after day we never got to Sea until the sixteenth.


            In the mean time orders came down from Paris stating that the Duchess de Beni was coming down for sea bathing and requesting the city Government to get up an escort to receive her outside of the gates – they endeavored to do so, but only a half a dozen or so volunteers, whereas when it was understood that Lafayette was coming some hundred gentlemen assembled mounted ready to receive him, against whom they shut their gates and prevented form going out, is so happened that the general was still detained by sickness and did not come, in consequence of which the gentlemen were inabled to ride out of the gates single on the following days and congregate some distance on the rode he was to come. It was near sundown when his carriage drove through the gates, the escort was shut out the city was filled with troops and an immense crowd of citizens from the environs of thirty miles or more who rent the air with acclimations. The General was driven to the house of a Mon. Papineau, upon the steps of whose door he addressed the citizens. The excitement was immense; the next day we put to sea, the excitement still continuing until we were well off from the Key and their sail boats out of sight, two days after off L’Orient we had a squall which took away one fore + main topmasts + being in ballast esteemed ourselves lucky that we were not capsized on our beam ends, for that night we hailed a fine large ship the Montezuma with all of her masts gone. I was standing on the Key only two days before when she went out and heard my companion Capt Buckner of the “Canton” belonging to Le Roy Bayard + Co, hail her and tell the captain he would lose his masts if he met with a squall his rigging was so slack it was her first voyage. At Havre with the consent of the General we received another passenger a young man Mr John P. King who has since been distinguished as an U. S. Senator from Georgia and more recently prior to the Rebellion President of one of their Rail Roads. Mr King was a very agreeable companion, and made our number with Mr John Milhan who the Genl. Brought with him, just four Americans who with the Genl his son Washington + La Vasseui his Secretary constituted seven passengers. Cap’t. Allyne and his first mate since Capt. Chadwick messing with us made a pleasant table. Capt Allyne told me he had expended seven thousand dollars in fitting up the Ship and loading her with – Poultry, French Wines, Cows, Sheep +c. +c. and I suppose included loss of freight discharged into other Ships when he offered and had his Ship accepted, as he had made the offer and done all on his own responsibility. I found that upon nearing the American Shore that in all his communications with me upon the subject he was anxious least his owners might not sanction what he had done, he argued that as the Govt. had offered to send a Ship of the Line to any Port the Genl. would appoint to bring him to America they would not hesitate to vote such a paltry sum as seven to ten thousand dollars. There was the mistake, although carried before the House of Representatives year after year, like the old woman horse of the Revolution, never a cent have the owners received the Mess. Whitlocks behaved with the greatest kindness towards Capt. Allyne and sanctioned all he had done.


            Happening by good luck to be the only passenger who was never Sea Sick on board, the General made use of me as a walking stick, and sadly since have I regretted that I had not at that time the amor scribendi which has since in my old age possessed me, that I might have committed to paper the Revolutionary anecdotes he told me about Gen. Washington, Andre’s capture and his own adventures in the American Army. Nothing of note took place until our reaching the Grand Banks where the Genl expressed a wish to have a chowder, we lay too, and the crew went to fishing, but without any success, when the General sitting on deck under an awning asked the captain if he had not got a Cape Cod man on deck, the captain said there was one below ordering them to call up Ben, who the moment he threw his line into the sea drew up an immense haddock – where at the Captain set sail he being anxious of getting past the Banks fearing the Ice burgs. The next day was Sunday and we lay all day becalmed on the Bank the Sails flapping against the masts towards sun down, not a cloud in the heavens, the sea calm, the men on the main top looking out for a breeze hailed below and said there was a boat approaching with men in it, and in a short time we heard a horn + presently with a glass distinguished the boat rowing towards with men armed their guns glistening in the sun. it had a suspicious appearance as there had been piracies in the gulf that year, but we were far north of the Gulf – Shortly we discovered they were belonging to a transport, having on board a Regiment bound to Halifax + in a blow a day or so before had separated from their consort + in the calm from their topmasts seeing our topmasts had made up a boat full to pay us a visit thinking we were their consort + had taken guns + horn to find their ship again in case of fog. The steps being put out + invitations given them to come on board they were astonished when reaching the deck on being introduced to Marquis de Lafayette by the Capt. After introducing each other, one as Major -------, the Captain – so + so and fifteen minutes conversation taking place they were invited into the cabin to a collation spread by order of the Captain at the end of which it growing dark they left us. As an evidence of the strong antipathy Lafayette had for the English they had not got out of sight before he walking the deck leaning on my arm exclaimed, what a set of liars these English are, upon my asking how they fared upon the Transports, the major said excellently well, having first rate supplies, whereas my valet Sebastian boarded their boat + the seamen told him they were upon short allowance – Officers


[the number of the pages skips here from 163 to 166 on the next page]


and the men + crew. – We made the heights of neversink entrance of New York early in August of a Sunday morning amongst a large number of vessels wind bound outside. Our French flag at the mast soon communicated the Generals arrival and we were boarded by a steamer with the Vice President Tompkins son on board and our ship steamed up and anchored off his residence Staten Island, the General insisted upon our calling with him that morning upon the Vice President which we did and were graciously received and invited to dine which we four passengers declined and returned to the ship. A heavy thunder storm arose during the day followed by the most magnificent rainbow I had ever seen. On Monday the “Cadmus” decorated with flags of every nation the French + American at fore + main preceeded by a large number of Steamers headed by the Fulton our only steamer of War at that time, made her approach to the city and anchored off the Battery saluted by the gunners of the Fort + the bells of the city – The Battery was lined with troops some twenty thousand + the paper said, and the Genl. was recd. into a Barouch by the mayor and carried through the streets to the City hall where the Govenor awaited him and afterwards located at City Hotel kept by Jennings where we his fellow passengers had taken rooms the General there dined with the Cincinnati who gave him a grand dinner + invited Dr Hayward + myself who also dined with them and that evening before retiring to rest the General sent for me and requested me to write to the Hon Josiah Quincy senior the major of Boston and say that from a lameness he could not mount a horse, but wished to be recd at the Roxbury lines in a Barouch this request originated from a ludicrous application made by a Mr John Rouleston a riding master of Boston, who just as we had sat down to dinner with the Cincinnati sent a servant in and asked me to come out and said that the Boston govt. intended receiving the General the lines with the Hussars and mounting him pass through all the streets and he Roulstone had come on to ask the General to ride his horse Napoleon which he had prepared for him. Layfatte laughed immoderately when I communicated the request before he went to bed, and to my surprise he the next morning sent for me and asked me how Hayward + I were going on to Boston + said that he had been invited before he left France by letter from Mr James Loyed of Boston relative of his old friend Genl. Breck on his arrival to make his house his home; and as Congress was not in session he proposed joining us in a private conveyance to Boston, of course I answered that his proposition was a very gratefull one to us but that I felt assured that when + wherever he wished to go all conveyances would be provided for him, as the governments guest his usual answer was “you’re very kind”, so it turned out afterward and with the exception of being robbed by indecent individuals

who borrowed money of him + amongst whom I am sorry to say I knew of one female whose husband was in a high position and perfectly unknown to it. The Genls expenses were all paid by the States he visited, and comparatively poor + his estate encumbered when he came he left the country free of debt, with $200,000. in cash + 20,000 acres of land given him.


            E’re leaving London Harding + I were in the habit of walking through Hyde Park to Kensington Gardens at the Palace of which he had been to paint the Duke of Sussex with whom resided the present Queen Victoria then a little girl who we saw one day playing hoop in the ground fronting the Palace – There were two then between her and the crown and no one anticipated her ever reaching it her mother resided with her and the Duke.


            One Sunday we took this walk previous to going to Finsbury Square to dine with Uncle Sam and after passing through Hyde Park upper gate leading into Oxford Street being some little distance ahead of Harding, I turned round to see what had become of him and saw him (hate off) rolling on the grass. I rushed up to him supposing he was in a fit, he groaned and tore up the grass with his hands the perspiration running down his cheeks in torrents I run out of the gate to the first public house, it was closed I saw people sitting at the window, they refused to open there was a penalty of five pounds for any Public house receiving people during divine service what to do I knew not, went back, found him still on the grass in great pain he said with the colic, had suffered with it before. I went back to the Public house, it was open. I obtained a carriage, removed him to the house sent for a physician and previous to his arrival gave him at his request a tumbler of hot gin and water any one who ever saw Harding six feet three and of gigantic proportions and had seen me tall but thin and week may imagine how difficult was my assistance at that time entirely alone with him. I walked home meditating upon the uncertainty of life quite sobered by what I had seen, and retired early to bed, the next day (to my surprise) some one (Stewart Newton) coming into my room I learnt that Harding had gone to his rooms, washed + dressed himself and gone up in a carriage to Uncle Sams + eaten a hearty dinner.


            I remained in Boston for a year or two until 1827 when I made a journey to Baltimore at the time Barnum opened his great Hotel in Monument Square; at the great fire and destruction of the Exchange Coffee house in Boston, where Barnum was burnt out, losing his furniture wine +c. +c. +. I had it in my power to be of service to him in helping move his family to a relatives, which he never forgot and he hearing of my being in Baltimore requested me to be with him when he opened his new house. There I met George Peabody, Henry Dalton + a young Mr Brooks son of Peter C. Brooks of Boston + several others whose names I cannot recall. Finding the society of Baltimore (where I had been before) very agreeable, I procrastinated my visit and remained there until the following Spring, visiting Charles Carrolls, the Catons + Harpers, Hoffmans, Col. Howard’s, Smith’s, Buchanans, Oliver’s, and a great many I cannot now recall to memory. Mr Peabody the great London Banker of the present day was then of the importing house of Riggs + Co, he roomed near me, and born in the same year I appreciated his acquaintance and made much of him, he was all that he has since proved a warm hearted generous man but no one could have foreseen his astonishing success.


            Shortly after arriving in this Country from Europe I made an excursion to a farm my father had bought in Walpole New Hampshire and from thence to the White Mountains through the Valley of the Connecticut; beautiful scenery all along the banks of the River. I stopped at Ethan Allen Crawford not far from the Notch. The White Mountains in those days had few visitors excepting the teamsters, who during winter passed through the Notch with their pungs + sleds, loaded with pork, venison +c. +c. for the Portland Market – Crawford told me there were often fifty of a night, put up at his house; and he had a long Hall surrounded with boxes with tops on hinges to raise up and let down, in which they put their Buffalo robes + laid upon and when day came the tops down made good settees, enabling fifty to sleep in the hall. His barn was large and commodiers in which he could stall up from one to two hundred horses. I recollect there was a large Moose in his barn yard quite tame, a bear, + a Wolf, chained up, all of which he had captured. A Mr Trappear of South Carolina and wife were the only persons besides myself there, few travellers went to the Mountains in those days, except hunters of Bears + Moose and all the profit the Crawfords had was from the Winter travel of bearers of provisions. Crawford sit up with us late at night I recollect relating to us his wonderful adventures with Moose, Bears + Wolves. The surrounding scenery was wild and gloomy then, I have been there three times since, some ten to fifteen years after that, and woods had been felled and the roads improved, but prior to my last visit, I had slept in a Mountaineer’s Smuggler’s Hut under the Pic du Midi of the Pyrenees and in the chalet of a Shepherd on Mount Boven of the Alps which reduced (in my feelings) the White Mountains to mere hills + civilization. All things in this world are enlarged or diminished by comparison.


            The second visit I made there out of sixteen, who made the attempt headed by Ethan Allen Crawford, all well mounted, only four reached the top of Mount Washington, amongst whom was a Mr Washington surgeon or purser of one of our Ships of War with whom I felt quite acquainted in a short time, sojourning in that lofty atmosphere, where we were all glad to curl up together under the Bolders to escape the cutting air, we left our horses tethered about five miles from the top having rode nine miles to that place in the woods from Crawfords House, and it was there that our companions mostly deserted us. My next visit to the White Mts. was in 1833 the year William T. Andrews + myself had the care + superintendeau of the Athoeneum Gallery of Paintings in Pearl Street, at the close of which Alvan Fisher + Thomas Doughty, and a Mr Brett from London, who brought out Buffo’s picture of Adam + Eve in the garden, all artists of note proposed to go with me to the White Mountains + sketch, Fisher + Doughty started immediately and Mr Brett agreed to follow shortly + I after the gallery was arranged – Fisher + Co went to Center Harbor on the Winnipisseoge Lake {See new American Encyclopedia = Alvan Fisher – Vol 7 – Folio 525. = Thomas Doughty. Vol 6 = folio 582

Mr Brett an English amateur artist who brought to this country a large collection of the old masters loaned him by the owners, also Buffo’s celebrated painting of Adam + Eve in the garden of Paradise . . . . } where they hired a wagon + went from thence through Sandwich Woods to Conway, where they expected me to over take them. I arrived at Center Harbor in the Steamer acrost the Lake, late in the afternoon, and found that it was necessary to have my horse (a very fine iron grey I had lately purchased) shod for Mountain travel, which brought it to near sundown; when I started to go through Sandwich Woods, seven miles long, Mr Center told me when I left his house, I was to proceed three miles when I should come to two roads. I was to take the left, which would carry me into the woods, when I came to the place I found three instead of two, I took the left and it growing very dark I found I was descending into low ground, and my horse making over ground faster than I wished; in my uncertainty about the road, after riding thus some time I discovered a light ahead but it seemed to disappear + come again that I conjectured it was a fire fly or Will of the Wisp, but suddenly the bark of a dog came, to my joy and I found myself beside a log cabin. I hailed and got out and hammered away at what looked like a door, and a woman put her head out of a loop hole and asked what I wanted. I told her I was bound to Conway, but had missed the Sandwich Woods + did not know where I was, she went and consulted her husband and returned and said he was sick of the Hay fever and told her I must go back at least six miles to get into the Sandwich Woods, but that there was a shorter way through low land and marshes if I following a wagon road into the woods, taking down bars, +c. +c. but he did not believe I could find it in the night; he had no place to put me or he would house me + show me himself in the morning. I determined to try it at any rate and taking his description I started again and after ascending + descending knolls in the road + hardly able to see my horse, I was suddenly brought to a full stop, and getting out, found some small birch trees felled across the path; the moon was emerging now and then from the white fleecy clouds, yielding bright light at moments and then leaving me in nearly total darkness, nearly blinding me by their sudden changes, there was nothing to be done, but clear the road, and not a human being for miles to call upon to help me, but I did finally succeed, and my splendid Iron grey, seemed to feel my situation and stood as quiet as a lamb I tried to get at my great coat which thinking I could not possibly want in August, upon starting from Boston I had placed at the bottom of my trunk, but after I had removed the trees my horse as well as myself felt the night air and it was no time or place to seek anything so I let him have the reins and in a short time was brought up to the bars entering the wood which having removed + replaced I was soon going full speed, which way, I had not

the slightest idea, whether on my route or back again to Centre Harbor, in course of an hour the day broke and upon emerging from the wood, I found myself in front of a Tavern, with the mail stage before it, and was hailed by the driver and a solitary passenger in it, + asked from whence under Heaven, I had come at that early hour.


            Going immediately to bed and resting myself and faithful horse at eleven o’clock A.M. after eating a hearty breakfast I proceeded on to Conway where dining with Fisher + Doughty we left in the afternoon and arrived at Thomas Jefferson Crawford’s at the Notch house which we agreed to make our headquarters. Two days after Mr Brett joined us telling us that he had witnessed quite an adventure to write home about, the mail arriving later than usual at Center Harbour they did not get through Sandwich Woods until it was quite late the night before; Brett like all Englishmen had taken what in England is called the Box seat, next the driver out side, when half way through the woods their lamps lighted, the leaders suddenly shyed and ran on to the right bank of the road, the driver pulled them up and hallowed and started a large black cow (as Brett thought) lying in the road. Mr Brett said an enormous black bear was up + over the wall directly aside of the coach, thinks I to myself, where could he have been the night before, when I was in the woods all night, and what a customer if in the dark without lamps, I had run on to him in the road asleep. We four gentlemen had Crawfords the Notch House to ourselves solely, for all the time we were there, a fortnight, The woods were almost impenetrable all round it at that time. There was no one in the house but himself, his wife, and the servant girl (a female), his wife was in a deep fit of melancholy all the time we were there, we never heard her voice, and her very person created a shudder in us when we met her in the house, whether it was the gloom of the place (which was quite sufficient) or what it was, we never understood – being four of us we passed our days in sketching in the bowl and after dining, had a game of whist and made the house ring with stories, jokes, and laughter. We went to bed early and got up early, my companions were there to make money. I was there for pleasure, but fell in with their views. Fisher painted the large view of the Bowl for the late Dr J. C. Warren, now held by some one of the family. Doughty painted the Silver Cascade, afterwards engraved. Brett and myself employed ourselves sketching; the weather was fine, our health was good, and time flew past like the wind. 


            One day while sketching in the Bowl on side of the Mountains from the spot where Fisher took his view, the Wiley House in the distance, which he was then drawing, say about a mile air measure from where we were we saw suddenly coming out form an old rickety shed what we supposed to be an ox - the shed was on the opposite side of the road and the animal crossed + disappeared behind the house. Fisher was watching it, hoping it might stop in the road that he might put it into his picture. It was a bear as we understood from Crawford when we went home to dinner, there were no oxen in that part of the Mounts they used horses altogether at that time.


            Another day we had just taken our places at the dinner table + were talking and laughing loud when Crawford suddenly putting his head into the room from the entry, said in a low voice – hist gentlemen; and in a moment the house shook with the report of his rifle fired from the entry he had seen the antlers of a large Buck in the opposite wood. He did not get him although very sure he had wounded him he could not leave us to penetrate the forest after him, we and our horses were dependant on him altogether for he had no man to help him.


There was another house between Littleton + the Notch kept by Fabian, where the Portland sportsmen, and seekers after mild scenery occasionally congregated: while at our late dinner one day a man rode up on horseback and said there was a man missing, lost from a party on the Mountain Washington the day before, from whom no account could be given of him after their arrival at the top, the last night had been very tempestuous and his mothers and sisters were in great distress and Crawford was wanted to join in the search on the Mountain. My impression is he answered this call and went – The day after this I had left my friends sketching and just before going home to dinner had descended to the road to pluck some berries, when suddenly a solitary weather beaten looking stranger in an old sulky driven by a boy pulled up before passing and asked me if any news from Fabians house – I said yes – a man had been lost the night before and there was much distress there. He immediately replied I am the man; that he had loitered behind his party when descending, lost the path, and had gone down the opposite side to the one he went up and the rain pouring down and total darkness surrounding him he had housed himself under some rocks and late in the morning of the next day had reached a log cabin at the foot of the mountain and was told he was twenty four miles from Fabians and he had found great difficulty in procuring a conveyance round. I ascertained he was a Lieutenant Paine of the United States Navy, and years since I have met him and laughed with him at his appearance that morning.


A day or two after this our time being up, as limited when we came we separated. Fisher + Mr Brett retracing their steps to Boston, and I taking Doughty into my Jersey Waggon down along the Banks of the Conneticut River left him a Hanover to take the stage to Boston whilst I proceeded on to Lake George where I met Washington Irving, Count Portalis and an English gentleman Mr Latrobe + after passing a few days pleasantly with them at this romantic spot and declining going to Saratoga where they proposed my going with them, I proceeded on to Troy. These gentlemen I had introduced to the Athaneum Library just before I lift Boston for the mountains. Irving had been resident in London with me. Leaving my horse + carriage at Troy I took a steamer to New York and after seeing the gallery there and falling in with Thomas Cole the distinguished painter of the course of time, he accompanied me back to Troy, where taking my horse an wagon we crost the country to Northampton, and on the top of Mt. Holyoke Cole made the drawing from which he painted his picture of the Connecticut Valley we then proceeded to Boston, and there I drove him round to the neighbouring heights to select a place from which to make a sketch from which to paint a view of Boston, for Joshua Bates of the house of Baring Bra’s London Bankers.           In 1830 I accompanied my sisters Mrs Sears and her three daughters with Mr Amory and Wm H. Prescott to the Falls of Niagara and thence to Canada – Mr Sears being in Europe I believe, if not – unable to go. I hired a private Stage all the way, our first stop was at Providence we visited Trenton Falls, having stopped at West Point on the Hudson. In the Steamer on Lake Ontario the Sun + cold weather gave us colds and previous to arriving at Montreal my sisters face became very much swollen which confined us for a fortnight at Montreal during which time Amory + Prescott went up the St. Lawrence to Quebec – Lord Aylmer was governor General of Canada at this time. This nobleman had a singular but very heart stirring accident happen while riding on the banks of the Tiber, in Rome accompanied by a beautiful young lady under his care Miss Bathurst (in April 1824) her horse lost his footing on the Banks and she was drownded it excited universal commiseration.


            On our way home we took the Lake Champlain Boat. Capt. Sherman noted for the beauty of his steamer and the great civility of himself and it so happened that we passed the 4th of July going down the Lake and when landed proceeded to lake George – where at Caldwells I was taken sick form heat and too much Champagne on the 4th rather bilious, they sent for the Village Doctor he came in with his sleeves rolled up above his elbows just from a potato field, where he had been hoeing he went down stairs after feeling my pulse and returned with a tumbler of lemonade into which he emptied a powder which must have been put up originally for a horse. It shook me so my friends became alarmed – I was not able to sit up for some days, at last he came in one day and feeling my pulse, put the question to me if I had been in the habit of drinking spirits. The temperance societies were beginning at that time to be established in the country towns, and fanaticism in religion  mixed up with it, and though having no particular penchant for what the country people called liquor, I had nevertheless not been given to total abstinence and I was a little at a stand to know what to answer but finally said, not to excess – well said he – that being the case I’ll order up a decanter of Brandy and as it is pretty hot I don’t mind taking a drink with you – an when the Brandy arrived he poured out half a tumbler full and tossed it down without any water and smacking his lips, said he could recommend it. This he did every day whilst we staid and in fact I needed it after the horse emetic he had given me. I thought Prescott + Amory would have died from laughing when the carriage was at the door the house bills paid and all in but myself Prescott halloed to me laughing – John – have you paid the Doctor? I had forgotten him not being of the house, so I went into the fields for him, and on his appearance asked him (thanking him for restoring me) to let me have his account. Well: says he, I think you’ll get along, and as for my account I hope you’ll not think it unreasonable if I charge you two + sixpence. I handed him one or two dollars climbed up on the box and told the driver to put his horses on the run.


            In 1832 I started from Boston with the hope of reaching Fort Snelling on the upper Mississipi, at Washington I called on the Vice President John C. Calhoun who rec’d me up in his bedroom in the most friendly way while shaving before going to the Senate, he asked me what he could do for me. Knowing that he and the President were not friends, I replied, only called to pay my respects. I had one or two friends amongst the Senate. Peleg Sprague from Maine having been a College acquaintance; also with Mr Clay I was well acquainted he having been at Boston when the Exchange was burnt but I did not care about asking them to present me to the President. More particularly as politics ran high at that session and their time was much engrossed and no one of the North particularly pleased with Old Hickory so I determined to go up with the rabble who were admitted without introduction and take my chance at a certain hour of the day. I was exceedingly lucky in my day I was ushered into his study with not more than seven or eight others of the middling class of seekers after office and I had wit enough which was probably put into my head by some friend

before I went, “to say – “I merely came to pay my respects” to him, he replied.’  Mr Mason take a seat there if you please I will soon be at leisure and in a few minutes he got rid of the others and ringing the bell on his table told the Secretary not to admit any more and seemed really pleased to have a stranger to talk with who did not want office, he asked me if I smoked and taking a pipe out of a side draw and clapping his legs on to a chair was enveloped in a cloud – After several remarks about my quarter of the Country and my telling him I was going to see the far West, the Falls of St. Anthony if I could reach there; he said, all very landable, and asked; do you know Cass? I answered in the negative; he immediately drew a sheet of paper towards him addressed to the Sec’y of War – desiring him to give me letters to Fort Armstrong I forget the Commanders name; to Governor Clark Indian Agent at St. Louis and to several other officers it was all done in the kindest manner, and when taking leave he said I will now give you a piece of friendly advice, buy a Saddle horse + with Saddle bags dive into the Michigan Country and see all. I went directly to the Secretary of War’s it was Saturday and he having a severe headache asked me if I had an objection to coming to his private residence of Sunday – I answered, by no means and he said he would have all of the papers ready. I called at ten the appointed hour + found the Genl. With the letters ready and somewhat inquisitive to know my motives for going so far as the Prairie du Chien and Fort Snelling as Black Hawk and the Sauks and Foxes as he told me were in a disturbed state, he said if speculation was my object he could offer me at Detroit his farm for the sum of ten thousand dollars which was a small price for it, and the only reason he had for selling it was that he could not be at two places at once and advised me to go and look at it, which I promised to do, but the Cholera prevented. At Cass’s descease two years since the papers stated that he left three millions of dollars the proceeds from the rise of his farm which he was once induced to offer for seven thousand dollars. Detroit is build upon it.


            Upon leaving Genl Cass I went to my boarding house and some one informed me that the next morning Mr Clay would speak on the Missouri Compromise question. Early next day I hurried to the Capitol and when reaching the entrance I met Washington Irving + Mr Latrobe, they proposed my joining them, they having been promised a place on the floor I gladly acceded, when going up the long flight of steps I was accosted by S. G. Goodrich (Peter Parley) with the request that I would introduce him to Irving who had got far ahead and was beckoning to me to come on fearing a crowd in the Senate Chamber. I said to Mr Goodrich if he would call upon me the next day I would call upon Irving with him.


            After the adjournment walking down the Pennsylvania Avenue Irving asked who the gentleman was who came near losing for us our seats in the Senate I told him Goodrich, who wants to be introduced to you, what says he; Peter Parley, Yes-; then do not introduce him, I am going to sue him for pirating my Columbus and have given my lawyer in New York orders to that effect already, and then seeing I was in a dilemma, he said – Is he a particular friend? I answered no only a townsman – he then said perhaps it will be best to introduce him, and I’ll leave it all to my lawyer. I then said have you any objection to my stating the present conversation – not in least said Irving. –


            I went to meet Goodrich and narrated the above conversation he was greatly astonished – he said I am as innocent as you are, I have never read the abridged Columbus that Irving speaks of, I have returned from Europe where I was called rather unexpectedly, and having published abridged Biographies of Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, and Adams I asked a young man you know very well to write Columbus if he has taken from Irving, I will suppress it. I then said had you not better call and see Irving and tell him this – He said he would. - I was not in Goodrich’s company for years after nor did I ever refer to it when I met Irving – and how they settled it I am entirely ignorant to this day: Irving was much incensed at the time.


            The next morning I left Washington for the far West taking the mail to Wheeling on the Ohio and thence by Steamer to Cincinnati where I met my early friend Stephen Fales who ushered me round in this city which then began to show what it might be in time from thence I went to Louisville and to Ashland, Mr Clays farm who gave me letters to his son in law Mr Irving. At Lexington I dined with the Wickliffs a distinguished family and with a Major Todd who had a young daughter of some ten or eleven who I have sometimes thought might be the present Mrs Lincoln wife of the late President. I returned to Louisville and took the Steamer Arab for St. Louis. When emerging from the Ohio near Cairo into the Mississipi of a Sunday morning we passed a church on the Bank of the river, around which were tethered some seventy to eighty horses with saddle bags and pillions, when close aside of them the Engineer let off the steam which, surrounded as we were by dense, impenetrable woods, sounded like the explosion of an immense discharge of artillery, there was not a horse in sight in five minutes, they had broken their

bonds and were flying in all directions. Whether this was premeditated or by accident I could not find out, but had my suspicions, if the former, it was as uncharitable an act, as man could have been guilty of – for in those days men + women must have been greatly exposed left in the forest far from home, as many must have been. We had a fine run up the upper Mississippi and I was much struck by the resemblance of some of the woods, fine trees, to gentlemens parks, + could not divest myself of the feelings, at certain points but that some splendid building would come in view, all this, like stage coach riding in England will be last to picture travellers since railroads have done away with Steamers except for freight.


            Arriving at St. Louis in the middle of summer I was astonished to find hard coal fires at that time kept up day and night at the Hotel. Owing I suppose to fever and ague, the land not having been cleared in the vicinity of the city, as since, St. Louis was a small place then and whilst at breakfast one morn. I was more astonished at having a gentleman (in his appearance) come to the table and take his eat opposite to me and taking a pair of pistols from his coat laid them aside of his place. I was told by the Landlord that he was Mr Rector belonging to a family that had a deadly feud with the another family, and some on each side had been killed; There was a Major Ofallon and one of the Biddle family that had just had a fight and one had been killed, those were lawless days but not infinitely worse than scenes in the late Rebellion.


            Presenting the Secretary of War’s letter to Governor Clark I was kindly received, and asked to go with him and visit a part of the tribes of Black Hawk of the Sauk Nation of Indians who had arrived the night before, + Gov. Clark had lodged them in some stone stores bordering on the River they had separated from Black Hawk  who was making war on the Whites, and were headed by a chief called Keokuck, they were afterwards in Boston with Black hawk + his chiefs after hw as captured, + Gov. Everett received them in the State House. A Colonel of Militia coming down from the upper river advised me not to go father as the Indians fired upon all the boats and there had been a fight. Gov. Clark said agreeable to the Secretary’s order, he should forward me with a company of soldiers going up next day, but advised me not to go; not wishing to run the least chance of being scalped I acquiesced to their prudent advise, which I had great reason to be thankful for afterwards. I remained only a few days at St Louis there was nothing attractive in the City itself in those early days, and being disappointed in not being able to go higher up the river and there being no rail Roads as now, to enable me to go into Indiana + Illinois, I returned down the River to Louisville – We stopt at Woodpiles on the Banks of the River, once or more during the day, I recall one day in particular, as it illustrates the characteristics of most of the settlers on the Banks.


We pulled up at the side of a wood pile, there was a common ragged looking fellow sitting upon it who did not take the trouble to take his pipe out of his mouth during the time we were wooding or ask any questions – with another fellow passenger I went on shore around the wood pile the trees had been cut down but the stumps remained, just above the clearing there was a dense forest of splendid Oak and other trees upon ground clear of all underbrush smooth like a carpet, amongst which trees, there were grazing, lots of horses, cattle, pigs, with poultry. On the border of the forest was a Log house through the logs of which we could look in and saw in one corner sitting near some coals which had no chimney to let the smoke out other than a hole in the wall a sickly pale woman with a child in her arms; apparently with little or no furniture around her, there was a drizzling cold rain and we were glad to get on board again. The cheerlessness, comfortlessness of that Cabin in the forest has never been obliterated from my memory to this day although since I have been a rambler amongst the chalets of the Pyrenees, and the highest Alps. Upon leaving he place and expressing our astonishment to the captain, he laughingly told us that the silent lazy fellow we saw on the wood pile, owned all the live stock we saw in the forest and many more farther off, and had twenty thousand dollars in a Bank in a town in the interior, not twenty miles from the river, and that he was a fair sample of the squatters on the banks of the river, lazy + living like a pig, with everything within his reach to make himself + wife + family comfortable. I have reflected upon this scene several times since, and have asked myself what right have we to censure this man who was probably living better than he ever had lived in childhood, are we not knowing to many, brought up in our cities amongst refined and religious relatives + friends who hoard up money, keep their children on pinching, slender, means deny themselves the comforts of life and then dying leave large fortunes when the meridian of life is past and it becomes a burden rather than a blessing to their progress. How many generous noble hearts have been sacrificed and sunk under their penuriousness that might have been ornaments under a more generous + liberal treatment from their parent.


            At Cincinnati I joined my friend Fales again, with whom I passed a pleasant week and then took the mail for Columbus the Capital, a small half built up place at that time + I have felt a strong desire several times that I might some future day revisit all of these cities + witness the wonderfull changes that time and man have wrought in them, but now as I am writing this I am sensible that the time for me to have accomplished this has passed and that traveling at the age of seventy two is shorn of all the novelties, aspirations + excitements which traveling at the age of thirty is possessed of. At Columbus I met my friend + fellow townsman Martin Brimmer and his young bride on their matrimonial tour; she a Miss Wadsworth of Genesee County – the roads were horrible and the stages springless ad open without protection; it was not uncommon in those days for the passengers to be obliged to alight two or three times in course of a day, and help get the stage out of a mud hole and the road from Cincinnati to Columbus was so dreadful to me although said there to be the best in the state, and I had so much in the night (which we were obliged to take with the day) suffered that I determined I would avoid all Stages when there was water conveyance, however circuitous the latter I understood at Columbus that the great Canal between that city and Cleveland on Lake Erie would be opened and the first boat be put upon it that week I made up my mind to seek the Captain and ask him to sling a Hammock for me on board and allow me to accompany him, he said he had no accommodations for more than himself and one hand and the canal was not for passenger boats he should probably be from a week to ten days perhaps longer making the passage that we should pass through swamps surrounded by impenetrable woods filled with wild animals snakes and mosquitoes and winding up his speech with = now if you choose to go I’ll take you and make you as comfortable as I am able. I asked him if he had a gun and plenty of provisions, he said yes – of such fare as he used himself and that he should pass squatters + small settlements, where eggs, fresh milk, ham +c. +c. could easily be procured. I told him I would be punctual to be with him at the day and hour appointed.


            My friend Martin Brimmer and his wife left me next day in the stage expecting to reach Cleveland in two days and a night which they did as I afterwards learnt from him, but with much suffering having to get out several times in the night on wet ground.


            At the appointed day and hour I with my portmanteau were taken in a gig driven by a boy from the Hotel to the Depot of the Canal where I found a common long boat, such as the boats on the Erie Canal of the present day perhaps a size or two smaller with no accommodations except at the bow a covered apartment large enough to hold two persons with a small cooking stove, removable at any time to the deck, in fact similar to what is called a trunk in fishing pleasure boats that go beyond the light to fish for Cod. The Captain received me with a smile of a peculiar expression indicating in my mind at that time that he had not expected to see me again, and that there was passing in his mind, “What a darned fool he is after all.” from that moment however he was all kindness and endeavoring to make me comfortable. I found out in after conversation that it had puzzled him very much and excited a great desire to know, why a gentm. As I appeared to him in person and address, should desire to go in such a boat and such accompany through swamps + woods at the rate of two or three miles an hour + where snakes + Bears + wolves might jump on board of us – in preference to riding in a carriage and four horses which he probably never had in his life time. He swung a hammock from the top of his birth to the opposite side so that I had all the air. He had provided draft cider, apples, cheese +c. +c. and tea in small quantities and during the whole time in his company I never saw him out of temper; a real gawky, ungainly backwoodsman he was full of jokes, stories of the most humorous nature and with--all possessed of sterling good common sense and a good warm heart, he has been recalled to mind often while reading the character of our late lamented President Abraham Lincoln within the past two years, and like him it has occurred to me the canal captain may long before this have risen to be a representation in his native state if not in Congress he had a peculiar name and I have never been able to recall it I had plenty of cigars Madam Woodville brand which were considered No. 1. in those days. + the Captain helped me keep the Mosquitoes off smoking them.


            The mosquitoes were my greatest trouble, when passing the forest the air seemed alive with them.


            One day the forest was so impenetrable on each side that it seemed like midnight, not a ray of sunlight touched us yet we could see a line of blue sky overhead looking like a ribbon reaching as far as the eye could take in between trees of prodigious size and height. At might lying swung in my Hammock with the top light off, the heat being great and our watch lamp hung at the stern of the boat I lay on my side looking into the forest and the hissing of the snakes and every now and then howling of Wolves and the cries of other animals which the Captain designated made me think of De Freishutz I had seen performed in London years before. My greatest apprehension was that a snake might drop from some one of the immense trees we were passing under directly into our boat, we were some two days and nights getting through this forest and delighted I was to have the sun shine upon us again, hot as it was. We came one day to a settlement of Germans where everything about their houses was as neat as possible their kitchens in perfect order, utensils all shining like the Dutch and all people of the male side at work harvesting, it was a settlement living in common like the Owen settlement at New Harmony I forget the name it might have been Loas or Bethleum,. Our Captain found freight everywhere he stopped and w went nearly the whole length of the State and passed many small Settlements that have since become like cities, for instance, Newark, Cashocton, and Canton, we did not reach Cleveland in much less than ten days after starting and though I never regretted the route glad was I to get into a comfortable bed on the shore of Lake Erie and have a good wash in the Lake, not having had my clothes off for a long time. From Cleveland to Buffalo acrost Lake Erie I was passenger in a very quiet comfortable Steamer, small in comparison to those of present days but much more comfortable and cosey, with few passengers amongst whom I was very glad to meet Rev. Dr walker late President of Harvard at that time the pastor of a society in Charlestown; who was a class before me in College Arriving in Buffalo at the Hotel I met Col. Wadsworth of Geneseco who kindly invited me to go with him to his homestead, he had with him his daughter the late Mrs. Charles Murray – he was the father of the late Genl Wadsworth killed I in the battle of the wilderness he was a fine specimen of America’s Agriculturists. My time would not permit and I went to take a look at Niagara Falls and staid there on the American side three days a disease termed the spotted fever had broken out on the English side and everybody had left and there was a panic amongst the few inhabitants, the papers were full of this disease reporting it incurable and the Cholera was said to have broken out in New York in a fearful manner, the only persons on the American side were a Mr + Mrs Hudson of New York, a Miss Laverty and a Miss Wright now Mrs Tompkins – she was a daughter of Wright the great Liverpool packet owner of those days and I met her and her family since in 1854 and lived in the same house with them at Lenox. Mr Hudson proposed to me to join his party and take a stage with them to Albany to which I acceded and was glad to get away so easily from the spotted fever not then being aware of the panic in New York about the Cholera. “Incidit in Seyllam cupiens vitare Charybdim”  I found Hudson a jolly companion and the ladies wide awake – during our Stage travel we devised many ways to kill time and amongst others we made bets who should see the first cat as we passed Cottages on the road which created much laughter as we saw puss seated on the pump on the window sill, sometimes on the hay stack. At Sehencetady we met Gen. Scott, Col Munroe + Maj Kirby with a regiment of troops bound to the Upper Mississippi to oppose Black Hawk and his Indians. Maj. Kirby was an old club acquaintance of mine, and introducing me to Genl. Scott I was asked by the latter if I would take some dispatches and letters to his wife which I agreed to and received We staid at Albany two or three days and when in sight of West Point Hudson suddenly proposed our stopping there and we were carried on shore in a boat and to my horror whilst landing I recollected Gen. Scotts packages I ript up my trunk and was hailed by the captain to throw them into the boat in doing which they went overboard and were raked up by the boat hook It was a year before I heard the fate of these papers, when meeting Gen. Scott it was explained, he said they came safe but he never could account for the condition they were in. we staid some days at West Point and then I parted with the party and went down the river to new York where some trouble was experienced in landing and via Newport I hurried home.


            The next year Genl. Jackson the President visited Boston and Wm. T. Andrews and myself had the superintendence of the gallery of Paintings. We called upon the Genl. and tendered him an invitation to visit it which he accepted and appointed the next day after the grand review of the troops on the Common.


            At the appointed time he came down with a troop of horse accompanied by Genl Cass Sec’t of War. Mr Woodbury Sec’t of Navy and his aids and walked through the Gallery of Paintings + the library the old man seemed fatigued by the review, made few remarks and seemed glad to mount his horse and gallop off to his lodgings at the Tremont where it was said he issued his order for the removal of the specic from the United States Bank – that very day – June 22nd 1833.


            1818 – It was during President Monroe’s first term that I received an invitation from Genl. Dearborn the Collector, to accompany the Deputy Collector Nathaniel Tracey and Elbridge Gerry the Survey Officer; in the Revenue Cutter, Capt. Sam. Trevett down to the eastward to place and examine Buoys. Massachusetts and Maine were one in those days and had not been separated. These gentlemen and myself agreed to lay in an equal quantity of stores to last us, the Captain and two mates both of them old India captains + ourselves one month real good living; in fact to make a spree of this piece of duty examining buoys, Lighthouses +c. +c. +c.

            Captain Trevett commanded one of the only two Artillery Companies that were at the Bunker Hill fight. Capt. Callinder the other who was cashiered Captain Trevett remained to the last upon the field and for his conduct he obtained in his old age, his present birth, which in those days was considered of some importance he was a fine old gentleman of the old school who have mostly if not quite passed away, he used a handkerchief in blowing his nose which I wish all men did now.


            We cast off from end of Long Wharf June 1st 1818 and were entering Boston Harbor July 4th as they were saluting on the Common Captain Girdler the first mate was an old respected Captain of an East Indianman, and Captain Townsend I forget his Christian name the second mate also had been in the Indian Sea and trade.


            The first place we put into after leaving Boston Harbor was Gloucester where the Sea Serpent was said to have been seen and chased a few years before.         The Cutter was a large Sloop with 17 Seamen and carried four guns. Anchoring in Gloucester Harbour the Captain set the men to fishing and they caught in a very short time a large tub full of flounders, many of them as large as the English turbot, looking very much like them and I am not sure they are not as we have a fish called the turbot taken off.


            Provincetown which seemed to me like those we then took towards afternoon the second day we took up anchor and sailed for Portland harbor where we passed a day and took in as pilot – Capt. Drinkwater who piloted the US Brig Enterprise out of Portland when she went out and captured the English brig of War “Boxer” amongst the Islands the old man took our sloop out to the ground they fought on and graphically described the fight and all the Burroughs and the officers on board said as they were nearing the enemy lying behind one of the Islands, and described the fall of Burroughs and the transferring of his body + Capt. Blyeth’s on shore at Portland Captain Drinkwater remained with us the whole cruise and was full of anecdotes and long yarns from Portland we went off the mouth of the Kennebeck River and examined the buoys and overhauled many trading vessels examining their papers as there was considerable smuggling going on in those days there being such a length of line of coast for only one Cutter – we had heavy fogs in June, and some storms, and cold East winds from the grand banks, and had often to lay bye for hours fearing to run in such thick weather, during which time we smoked, drank champaigne of which we had a full supply on board, and hearkened to Trevetts account of Bunker Hill fight and old Drinkwater’s revolutionary anecdotes, and were jolly all the time all of us being in the prime of life, and we plied these old Captains with our good cheer (four in number) and showed them we enjoyed their reminiscences of the revolution happy were those days. The next day we run off Cape Small point to the mouth of the Kennebec River where we boarded some packet vessels and thence passing Pemmaquid Point ran through Musconegus Bay with Manlugan Island on our right and anchored off St Georges Island in an impenetrable fog upon the rising of which we up anchor and run up the river between Fox Island + Thomaston and anchored again off Castine. This was where Morris blew up the Frigate Adams when chased in by the English fleet. We remained here but a short time to board Coasters, keeping our whale boat and one of the mates employed the whole time in this business – we next ran over to Brigadiers Island and threw our lines for Salmon but were unsuccessful with the hook + sent on shore at Belfast and tried a silver hook which being successful we up anchor and ran down the Bay and passing Burncoal Island, Long Island, Mount Desert Sound, bakers Island anchored again in Frenchmans Bay where a fog beset us again, and kept us the night, upon clearing up in the morning we set sail and passed by little Menan Island Pleasant R. Bay Beals Island and ran into Machias Bay and anchored off the Port Keeping our whale boat employed when laying bye or anchored.


The next day we ran inside the great Menan to Eastport where we staid a couple of days or more, going on shore and enjoying our legs which were stiffning for want of use. We visited I believe (not sure) Campo Belle Island belonging to the late Admiral Owen of the English Navy, we ran up the river to Calais and went on shore on the right side of the river at St. Andrews an English settlement garrisoned by a company of Red Coats.

The Recollections of a


[Volume II]

            The River St. Croix is a broad one at the entrance, opposite St Andrews is Robinstown on the American Side, and higher up Calais. This was the end of our cruise and the place where fog’s seemed part of the climate; we now turned out bow towards the North and began to feel as though we should like to see Boston State House again. Near the Kennebeck we put Tracey on shore who was shortly to be married to a Miss Wier of Newburyport and then we steered direct for Boston Light and arrived off Long Island July 4th. Our faces well tanned and sun burnt. We had enjoyed uninterrupted pleasure from the day we left to landing again and had found excellent amusing companions in our Commodore and his two mates.


A melancholy affair had happened to one of the Cutters near two or three years before we joined her for this party his name was Phillips; he went ashore and in Ann street visited a small Confectionary shop kept by Lawrence Nichols with whose foreman he got into a quarrel and the foreman an Italian named Denigie attacking him with a knife, Philips caught a red hot poker out of the coals and in haste struck him over the head, knocking him down and wounding him severely of which wound he died previous to his death, Philips watched with him and tended upon him carefully and showed great contrition. Upon his death Phillips was imprisoned, tried, convicted + hung on Boston Neck. What a comment upon the severity of the Law in those days and the present, when a man shoots his Employer in open day in the principal street and greatest thoroughfare of our city with five discharges of a revolver for no other reason than because he spoke slightingly of him to a female and is only punished by being sent to the State Prison for life which is understood to be only for four or five years when he is pardoned out. Surely Phillips execution was a little short of down right murder. He showed by watching with Deneghie that there was no malice aforethought, he was attacked by a man with a knife and defended himself with the nearest thing he could lay hi hand on as most any one would have done similarly situated. Italians are vindictive and he probably would have stabbed Phillips if he had not probably have got the first blow and no doubt they were both somewhat the worse for drink. The Bible tells us – for blood – blood shall be required but there are a class of citizens at present that deny the right of taking life however atrocious the crime that demands it. That crime is on the increase it only needs to read our daily papers to be convinced and to ask, where are the convicts to be put when our State Prisons are filled with assassins as is being the case now.


            At Cambridge through Washington Allston I became acquainted with Thomas Dower a Leather dresser who had a great penchant for collecting Books + Prints, and being a Bachelor had built himself a commodious large square house at Cambridgeport the Second Story of which he fitted up for a library. My intimacy with the collector and Tracey the Deputy Collector enabled me to be of some little service to Mr Dowse which he never forgot. It appeared that Mr Dowse had authorized Miss Wells and Lilley Booksellers in Boston to purchase Books for him at their discretion in London to a certain extent every year, there being a lottery of Water coloured Engravings and copies of Lord Stafford’s Gallery advertised – their agent undertook to purchase three tickets for Mr Dowse the first knowledge of it was given to me by my friend Tracey who called and told me there were several boxes addressed to my friend Dowse in the Custom House, containing Paintings Engravings +c. +c. the duties on which being an ad valorum duty would amount to several hundred dollars and wished me to advise him to call and pay it which I did to his undisguised affright, never having heard anything about it he said he could not raise so much money and the Custom House might keep the Boxes + contents

and seemed to think that the agent in London had got him into a horrible scrape. I told him I would see Genl. Dearborn the Collector which I did, and he wrote to Mr Crawford Secty of the Treasury who answered and said, let the contents of the Boxes be appraised at a minimum value which Mr Dowse paying let him have them, Mr Isaac Waters an acquaintance of mine being a Custom House appraiser put them very low and Mr Dowse paid short of one hundred dollars. I am under the impression that he drew the second prize valued in Pounds shillings + pence, little short of seven or eight thousand dollars. Our Custom House officers were gentlemen in those days. Mr Dowse would always after that light up his fires and open his rooms for me, when I wished to bring any friends to his house, which I often did, when my New York friends visited Boston. Tracey agreed one summer to accompany me to Fall River in my Jersey wagon and pass a few days at jack Lawton’s near Tiverton Bridge. Lawton was an old Sea Captain who giving up going to sea had established himself and family in a very cosey house near the Church on the Knoll at Tiverton commanding a fine Sea view on one side, and Mount Hope where the Indian King Philip had his wigwam on the other he received fishermen and gunners at his house during the sporting season, and taking every advantage it had, fine sea air, plenty of Black fish, good comfortable beds, kind Landlady and Landlord, beautiful rides on the borders of the Atlantic and in those days never being full of any but the higher class of boarders, taking all of these into consideration it was one of the most desirable summer resorts I have ever been at, with a small party of gentlemen, and many a pleasant reminiscence of day there float before me. Many New Bedford gentlemen patronized him the Rodmans, Roaches, Robesons +c. +c. when the fishing season permitted; Lawton had a few acres of hard, rough, looking sandy land, behind his house he always planted with onions, and had many jokes to suffer for. One year the elder Mr. Rodman a man of large fortune having been passing a few days at Lawtons for the fishing standing before the door his carriage ready to take him away, thought he would have one more fling about the onions hallowed out – Jack – what will you take for all of your onions as they stand in a lot? Eight cents per bunch! Says Lawton. Poh! Says Rodman, I’ll give you four. They are yours answered Lawton like a flash. Rodman was fairly caught – Ah – what can I do – with four acres of Onions, how can I get them home? Send a sloop Mr Rodman – who answered – very well – and drove off heartily vexed with himself to know what to do with hi onions. He sent a sloop round which Lawton filled in bulk, cabin deck + every part – at the arrival at New Bedford people stared _ wondered what Mr Rodman had been speculating in onions for – finally the joke got wind and then Mr Rodman had to brace up every half hour his counting room was besieged with notes and applications to ask, what he would sell his onions, that finally he determined to sell them for the first offer he could get and the next morning there came in an elderly sober looking sea captain asking Mr R. for the price and terms of his onions, and after hemming and hah ring, and tiring the old gentleman and asking if he was sure he understood him rightly, he turned + said as he was going, well Mr Rodman you may send me ten bunches. He was hired by some of Mr Rodmans friends to go to him.


            Nat. Tracey and myself were joined by Mr Thatches + Mr Coolidge making a hand at whist in the evening and the weather being fine in the day we rode and fished, we had one large bed room containing four beds; our friends Thatcher + Coolidge declared they heard rats in the room every night about midnight which neither Tracey or myself heard. I being deaf of course was not called upon to give my testimony. Capt. Lawton said it must be imagination there could not be any rats there where none were ever seen near the house, the noise nevertheless continued and Tracey being asleep they called up Captain Lawton who acknowledged he heard, they awoke me, Tracey being an invalid they avoided waking him, after looking all around the room they found it was nearest Tracey’s bed under which they looked and were about giving up when they perceived it came from near the top of his bed and turning down the sheet observed his jaws moving, he was grinding his teeth waking him up – the rats disappeared. His teeth were very much ground down and when he and I were returning to Boston he explained the causes of his depression as follows Hew as still Depy. Colelctor in which office he had laid up some little property he had loaned a certain sum to a friend and taken as collateral security shares in the Canton Manufacturing Cotton Company, this Company had failed and by the laws of Massachusetts he had understood that every stockholder was liable for all the debts contracted during the time he held his shares which had been for one or two years back and would take all of his property, and much more, he then had a wife and two children – he was dreadfully depressed; and there was little I could say to encourage him more than that I did not believe that such a law could be enforced if it was, it would destroy every manufactory in the state and for a short time it appeared that was likely to be the effect.


Tracey I believe never suffered more than the loss of his original loan, some one or two thousand dollars I belonged at this time to a Club of gentlemen whose object was friendly enjoyment and social intercourse of each others society at dinner. Meeting once a fortnight during winter and spring, alternately at each others houses, some were merchants in large business, some Physicians and some literary men those who were unmarried received their friends at some public house as far as I can now recall the names there were, the late Horace Man, the late George Russell, the late Oliver Wm. B. Peabody, the late Henry F. Baker, late James K. Mills, late Joshua H. Hayward, late Nat. P. Willis, Benj T. Reed, Admiral Davis, John C. Hayden, Huntington Wolcott, Samuel Lawrence, J. T. Stevenson, Dr. Sam. G. Howe and myself. Alas how many are dead gone to their last resting place. It was an exceedingly pleasant club, for a longer time, than generally such clubs last. Our rules were, where any one was engaged, the Club gave him a dinner; after married he gave the Club a dinner. The last meeting together was in 1856. Reed + Mills called upon me and said there were several of the Club in the City and they thought we had better have one more meeting, and that Dr Hayward said he would come if I would. I having declined all dinner parties heretofore, and not intending ever to dine out with more than three or four persons again, my hearing being so much impaired, and it was nearly twenty years since I had dined with the club which had been broken up nearly that time. I think it was in 1836 I gave them my marriage dinner, at the large Warren Hotel now the Blind Asylum at South Boston. After some little demurring Hayward and myself agreed to meet them at the Tremont when entering the dining room Hayward declined sitting down there were thirteen people and fourteen plates it was a long time before we could persuade him to sit down, whilst a carriage was sent for a Captain Davis who was detained. Davis did not come and Hayward was not in usual spirits and it is a singular coincidence that he died in less than six months after, having been found sitting upright in his chair, with a cigar in his hand gas burning, when called to breakfast by the servant girl, his bed untumbled he must have gone out of the world without a twinge. A short time after this dinner James K Mills and Sam Lawrence failed for large amounts; and the few that now remain are from age grown grey bald, deaf + halt. As long as it Lasted with youth health + prosperity it was very agreeable, we never played any games but confined ourselves to social conversation, some of our members like, Mann, Howe, Willis became known over the world – others like Miss + Lawrence were equally at one time conspicuous for their great mercantile + manufacturing transactions, and Davis has since by his gallantry gained high rank in his profession and others of us have been called upon during the past great rebellion to make sacrifices for our Country. I have made no mention heretofore of the escape I have had with horses and carriages in early life, having been very fond of animals. I can recall many runaway escapes and discomfitures on the saddle and in harness of horses I have owned or had to do with but of one I will narrate what I have always thought A wonderful providential escape. I had been to Dedham one summer afternoon for the express purpose of playing chess with a respected connexion the Hon. Edward Dowse who passionately fond of this game had sent me an invitation to pass the day with him, my fathers horses all being in use that day I had requested Wm. Forbes a livery stable keeper to give me in a light gig one of his fastest horses which he was always willing to do acknowledging that I was one of his most humane drivers; after passing the afternoon and some part of the evening after tea in playing chess my horse was ordered round, it was towards nine o’clock of a hot evening in the month of July and very dusty, my horse had been standing some time in the yard where I got in therefore it did not surprise me that he started off pulling heavily upon the reins, and turning at right angles outside the gate I heard the wheel graze on the post, thinks I, my good fellow I will let you go if you want to you’ll soon get tired of this presently I passed a load of Hay on the Turnpike and my blood run cold to find, with all my strength I could hardly keep from being upset, he went so close, he was anxious I doubted not to get home, but I had never known him so hard to hold before, and attributed it to Mr Dowse’s Irishman having been giving him oats unordered which vexed me, for I was in a profuse perspiration holding him besides every now and then I met teams and carriages and he pulled up so close that the people all seeing my speed and near approach to them naturally turned out in great haste thinking I was drunk – in about forty five minutes from starting I pulled up before my fathers door in Mount Vernon Street. My horses side and back looking as though it had been snowing and the coachman coming out with a lantern discovered that he had no bit in his mouth, he had been driven all of the way from Dedham, nine miles, after dark with nothing but a light leather strap over his nose, the bits being under his chin. Had this have broken I should probably at the speed I was going have lost my life. In the country he seldom use Lanterns, and the Irishman harnessed him after dark and slipping the horses nose between the bits + the leather nose piece thought all was right it was as narrow an escape as one need have to put them on their guard for the future.                 It was my privilege in early life to have made the acquaintance of two of the first artists of our Country in portrait and landscape painting Mr Guilbert Stewart my father had introduced to come to Boston from Washington where he had come from England, to paint the portrait of General Washington, my father engaged to sit to him and to have the greater part of his family taken, and to influence others and he had a great success to the last day of his life, his death happening in the year 1828.


            Where giving up Mercantile life early in life I studied art for a time, and doing many little kindnesses for Mr Stewart he used to let me sit in his room where he was painting which it was said he would not allow any other person to, not even his own daughter, and although exceedingly eccentric which most great professional men are apt to be and often bearish to others I can conscientiously say I never recollect to have had an unkind expression of any kind from him. I was of service to him often in many little ways. When he was painting the Presidents for Mr John Doggett the Carver + Guilder, he asked me to procure for him a dress sword to put into Washington’s portrait. I told him I would borrow one of Comd. Hull at the Navy Yard, he hesitated a moment, then said, don’t tell him who it is for, borrow it in your name. I met the Commodore a day or two after, said he would lend me his sword with great pleasure and was very curious to know what I wanted it for, the open hearted old hero – pumped me dry to find out what I was going to do with it, and I finally told him. He laughed and said I will tell you a story about the old fox – After the Battle of the Constitution + Guirriere – I was requested by the City government of New York to sit to Jarvis for a full length for their City Hall, having succeeded Commodore Bainbridge, in command of the Navy Yard at Charlestown and having been requested by Isaac P. Davis to sit to Stewart before this I wrote the Govt. of New York City that I would feel obliged if they would allow me to sit to Stewart as a substitute for Jarvis, it suiting my convenience much more their answer was in the affirmation but saying they had fears of having to wait a long time as they understood he was not punctual in executing his Portraits according to his promises. Accordingly I sit to Stewart who painted what was said to be a fine striking likeness, and I was so much pleased myself that having shortly before been married I persuaded my wife to sit, she went daily for near a fortnight, on to the neck to a house Stewart had moved into near the Roxbury line, taking a great deal of her time and being very wearisome for a young lady of her age – Everybody of her acquaintance male and female were greatly pleased, the portrait required but one more sitting and one of her female friends who usually went with her was telling her something very interesting which occasioned a turn of her head which no sooner caught Stewarts eye, than he daubs out all his likeness, and turning the canvass upside down, began sketching a new head; it was too much of disappointment to bear, for Mrs. Hull had congratulated herself that was the last sitting and she burst into tears and came home. I was of course somewhat vexed and expressed myself so. It was the last time I ever heard from Stewart and he was never at leisure when I called about the New York painting – and the Common Council tired out requested me to sit to Jarvis which I did, and hence the painting in their City Hall. A friend wrote me from Baltimore that Cumberland Williams one of the wealthy men had expressed a wish to procure a first rate copy of Stewarts Washington certified to be painted by himself he was willing to pay any price he should reasonably ask but he had been told there was no rise of applying to him personally, for that he never fulfilled any engagements, this friend a Mr George Newman knowing my acquaintance with Stewart and having himself been kind to me when in New York. I was desirous of serving. The next time I went to Stewarts Room I found him in exceedingly good humor playing on his chamber organ, his shirt sleeves and bosom frills covered with snuff after a word or two I told him I was a going to ask a favor of him viz – to paint for me a copy of his Washington, that I had mentioned to someone what I was agoing to ask him and they laughed and ridiculed me. He smiled and went on playing as I was leaving he said by the way shall you be hereabouts on Wednesday of next week? I said yes and on Wednesday I went having given up saying anything more about Washington. After taking a pinch or two of snuff the old gentleman got up and taking a canvas from the wall sit it up on his easel – saying, how let them laugh. It was as fine a copy of Washington as Stewart ever made, was sent by me to Cumberland Williams and at sale of his effects after death was bought by Thomas Handyside Perkins of Boston and since his death has been in possession of his son Augustus Perkins both of the last gentlemen have called upon me to testify to its genuineness in writing – which I have.


            Discussing one day with Stewart the merits of the portraits of a young artist having considerable success in Boston, about which there was some thing indescribable wanting he said he the artist don’t feel character that’s the difficulty. An artist half finishes if he does not give the character, he must be a gentleman to understand how to paint a gentleman this is true and eminently conspicuous in Sir T. Lawrences ladies + gentlemen.


            I attended Stewarts funeral in 1828 in July. With Washington Allston at his last residence Essex corner of Kingston street I think it was, the Rev. Washington Doane since late Bishop Doane performed the services in the Church and the house.


            There has been no artist since, that has rivaled him in the head alone. His portrait of Councellor Dunn Allston, thought equal to Van dyke.


            Guilbert Stuart left England in the zenith of his fame and came to this country to paint the Father of his Country for Mr Bingham of Philadelphia of whom Stuart always complained of having had it engraved without his permission and wronged him of his share of the proceeds.


“There is a dreamy presence everywhere

As if of spirits passing to and fro;

We almost hear their voices in the air

And feel their balmy pinions touch the brow.


We feel as if a breath might put aside.

The shading curtain of the spirit Land,

Revealing all the loved and glorified

That death has taken from affections band.”


            Whilst recalling these reminiscences the death of my nephew James Sullivan Warren has been announced to me, after an illness of some six weeks brought on by exposure. Few if any examples have been exhibited for the last thirty years of such true untiring devotedness to Gods work amongst the poor as this gentleman has shown, he surprised all, far and near by his progress in divine life, so clear and full in his religious views, so established his heart with grace so anxious to do good and communicate with others in the cause of the poor, and the cause of Christ.


            With Washington Allston my acquaintance commenced shortly after leaving College 1814 and lasted to the year of his death 1843 – with short intervals of absence on my part in Europe and elsewhere. Independent of his great power with his pencil, his fine poetical talents and his truly religious character he was as perfect a gentleman as I ever met with; with extreme delicacy of character, conscientious, kind hearted and liberal, never criticizing, and never sparing of his praise of other artists, he was one who grew upon your esteem and admiration. Before going to Europe the first time – I sought his company he lived at that time in Sister St. near Federal Street meeting house formerly Dr Channings. And he Dined at Rouillards – at 6 in winter and 7 in summer. Where I was sure to find him. He gave me a letter to Leslie in London. After my return from London I renewed my acquaintance and was frequently with him, and having much to say about his old acquaintances Leslie, Newton + others in London. I enjoyed the conversation more being able to communicate as well as receive – and I often went of a Saturday to see him at the old Dana House at Cambridge where I met Edmund + Richard H. Dana the poet, and where I first met Horatio Greenough the sculptor, with whom I lived afterwards in Florence, and who was my groomsman in after time. I shall never forget the conversation of these gentlemen Dana + Allston on Art and Literature. Allstons great picture of Miriam the Prophetess was then finished and I saw it. I had seen it as it progressed in his painting room, an old brick stable in milk behind Pearl Street, where I carried my Brother in Law to see it, who purchased it for one thousand dollars – it would probably now bring ten – although it is somewhat injured by the quantity of Asphaltum and glazing Allston used. Some of Wilkie’s paintings are now suffering in the same way and I recollect Wilkie’s shewing Leslie, Newton and myself when we made our visit to him, before described in these reminiscences; his Picture of Receiving the Keys of Holyrood house entirely dead colored with asphaltum lights rubbed out. Years after his death I saw a picture – the Village Fair – (I believe) in Marlborough House belonging to the Vernon Gallery, in London, full of cracks, which I pointed out to the artist in care of it, and he said it had been reported to the Committee. I thought of his Holyrood picture his paintings are all engraved so that if the paintings are lost the engravings will sustain his fame. It is otherwise with Allston very few have been engraved. His Jacobs dream and one tr two others excepted. Allston left Europe (a great mistake) when just taking high rank amongst the small number of Historical painters of that time; he had just been made an associate, and unquestionably would have progressed most rapidly with the advantages the society of London Artists would have given him; and the study of their paintings compared with his own would have led him to have been less fastidious, and not have sacrificed himself and time as he did in America. It was a great sacrifice and no one to this day has been able to satisfy his own mind of the cause.


            In all my conversations familiar as they were I never dared touch upon so delicate a subject, knowing that the death of his wife had been a most severe blow to him, and all of her friends were in this Country. From Sister Street he moved out to Cambridgeport, which deprived me of my regular visits, although I can call to mind at different periods many walks over Cambridge Bridge at ten + eleven o’clock home, after passing the evening with him + Edmund Dana and now and then he would come to Boston and by invitation dine with me at Rouillards in the old Blue Chamber where we had met so often. We used to sit late when Allston lived in town, and before we left he would always put up all the chairs, pull the ashes over the coals as though there were no servants in the house. I caught this hab it from him and when at house keeping have found myself doing the same thing with six servants in the house and now in my old age in a boarding house find it very convenient. It is a blessed thing to be able to help ones self, it’s a great mark of independence – Allston would also snuff out all of the lights before going. He was the most amusing Ghost Story teller I ever hear and to be in a room with him and Loammi Baldwin was one of my greatest enjoyments I ever had in those days when possessed of my hearing. Allston believed in Ghosts as did Dr Sam Johnson and many intelligent people I have known in my lifetime and read of. Allston used to tell the story of Genl. Wynyard, with great solemnity I wonder what he would have thought of the Fox girls and the table turnings of the present day, he died in 1843.


Telegram from N. Y. – died – Feb’y 24th 1867.

9 O’clock evening.


            Again I leave off reminiscences to insert the death of my brother in law H. W. T. Mali of New York Consul General of Belgium, a more, truly honest, noble hearted man it has not been my privilege to have known associated with him by family ties for over thirty years. To my recollection an unkind word or thought has never passed between us, together abroad and at home we have followed to the grave our mother in law and both of our wives, and brothers in law – and now he has been taken leaving me (the oldest of all excepting our late mother) to recall the past and mourn the deprivation of a solitary look back, the concomitant of prolonged life.


            Previous to leaving America for Europe in the Spring of 1834 I gave a dinner to my friends – the Club at the Nahant Hotel owned by Edward H. Robbins, and kept by Holman formerly of the Winthrop House. The season at Nahant had not commenced and we had the house entirely to ourselves, we mustered strong and it was in the latter days of May and the last time but one for twenty years I ever met with them. We drove down in our gigs and after dinner we played Billiard + nine pins and roamed over the Rocks; at nine in the evening Robbins who had been my guest invited us to sup with him having had the tables relaid whilst we were out the consequence was we staid all night and breakfasted there and came up next day. There were twelve to fifteen of us present, and it was allowed to be from the novelty of it one of our most pleasant meetings, as it was one of our last. Business, removals and absence from the country finally reduced the numbers so as to discourage the holding together of the remaining few. – OF the member then present there are but a few grey headed, Bald headed, weak old men, now living who are scattered far and near.


            And Nahant how changed there were but one or two cottages in those days, besides – Fredk. Tudors, Stephen Codimans + Col. Perkins and the John Phillips’s – Rice kept the Tavern. There were the Hodds + the Johnsons at the head of whom was uncle Caleb always ready with their boats to go a fishing, then who can forget the visit of the seaserpent who was seen by hundreds passing Egg rock and running up off Phillips Beach and Swampscott, with whale boats after him but his movements so rapid that no whaler could touch him. Personally I have been very much staggered in my belief having heard from so many respectable people so many opposite opinions relative to the existence of such a creature.


            I happened a short time after his appearance to be out a fishing with a Captain Meek of Swampscott who had been several voyages in a whaler, we were fishing in his whale boat, when he narrated his experiences with the serpent he said he was on shore when the non-descript was first reported to have made his appearance, that he immediately ran for the whale Boat we where then in and after taking in his oars, anchor +c. +c.  returned to his house and brought down his Harpoon, + tackle, and with one other pushed off in a direction of where told he had last been seen; when half way between Swampscott + Little Nahant he all of a sudden heard a rushing of waves and on the side of his boat saw a head like a horses head rise out of the water, bearing as though having passed under his boat, that the distance appeared some twenty feet from the boat + that turning to the other side he saw what had the appearance of the tail of an immense snake reaching some twenty feet that side. Estimating the rapidity with which the head disappeared still keeping out of water he concluded the entire length could not be much less than eighty to ninety feet. Captain Meek had no doubt of its being of the serpent species. Col. Sam. D. Harris formerly of the Army of the United States in the War of 1812 an old and respected acquaintance, informed me that during the summer of the Serpents first being seen, and a few days after the clear view of him by Marshall Prince, Col. Austin + others, which was published in the papers, that he and a party of gentlemen amongst whom was Benj. Pollard the Editor of the Evening Gazette, his brother Richard Harris, City Treasurer, about fifteen in all; where coming down to Nahant in a Steamboat commanded by Capt. Porter, that when just through Point Shirley they met the Portland Steam boat commanded by Porters brother coming up to Boston of whom they enquired if he had seen the serpent he answered yes they had passed him half an hour before heading South west. Of course they were in ecstasy and in a short time, some minutes after, a shout took place near the bow, and behold, every appearance of a great snake was coming directly down upon them his head out of the water answering the description given of him as seen a few days before. Col. Harris said he had previously been an unbeliever but tha the at first sight felt perfectly convinced now, coming along with great rapidity and heading directly for the boat, there appeared to be a general fear he would come on board, in a few moments he was alongside and with a sudden diver went directly under the vessel, they all rushed towards the gunnel and looking over were perfectly astounded at seeing large shoals of fish going under in a file line and serpent like appearance as at first.  They were so astonished and (in verits) disappointed, feeling an interest in Captain Porter of the Boat who was reaping a fine harvest while the Snakeship was said to be off Nahant that hey all agreed, the Editor amongst the rest to say nothing unless closely questioned upon the subject; the other Capt. Porter went up to the city + returned bringing down some three hundred dollars worth of passengers to see the monster he described off Nahant. For myself I am not satisfied that this and Captain Meek’s were the same. It seems improbably to me that Captain Meek who had been employed in the whale fishing  should not from a whale boat been able to have seen anything living that passed under his boat better than these excited gentlemen from a Steamboat high out of the water. Then there was amongst the Editors a decided tendency to ridicule all belief in there being any such nondescript or that these appearances were anything more than shoals of Horse Mackerel. Yet he is said to have got into shoal water at Gloucester Harbor and to have been seen endeavoring to get out by hundreds of trained old salts. Another argument in favor of something uncommon visiting our shores in those days, was quoted by the fishermen that all the Cod + Haddock seemed to have disappeared and such a scarcity had not have been known for years. Mackerel and every kind of fish was scarce. The foregoing seems to contravert very strongly Col. Harris’s discovery that the arrival supposed to be a Seaserpent is merely in the present case large shoals of Horse – Mackerel whose habits and manner of pursuing their prey is in a line + forming the appearance of a large snake a description of which can be found in Rees Encyclopedia. Now what shall we believe? Some who saw the serpent, particularly those at Gloucester have sworn before Justices of Peace in many instances to have seen him for half an hour, to an hour at a time swimming backwards and forwards before he became extricated, twisting and turning in many different coils. At Gloucester as before mentioned he was said to have accidentally got into very shoal water between two bars and swam backwards and forwards before he became extricated. All this time in sight of some hundreds. Some who are very positive affirm that these shoals of Horse Mackerel were driven in before him and were trying to et out of his way. Now on the other hand to corroborate what Col. Harris says, Jon Johnson the boatman born and a resident of Nahant told me a similar story, he said he did not see him the first time being out a fishing far from land, but one day early in the morning shortly after his first appearance, he Johnson was behind his house at the wood pile and looking towards Phillips Beach he saw something lying upon the water that appeared to him to be the large mast of a ship, being a candidate for such prizes, he ran into his house to get his boat glass, and upon returning discovered through it one part of supposed mast in motion, he immediately gave the alarm of Seaserpent in sight, and in a few minutes fifty to sixty persons were looking at him when suddenly he seemed to separate into four or five different parts and spread in different directions all over the Bay. It was reported that the sea serpent was seen again years after, August 3, 1849. By a Mr John Marston a Swampscott fisherman, at 8 o’clock in the morning, which he sore to before Wm. Thompson Justice of Peace. See Boston evening Journal August 20th 1849. Besides the scarcity of fish this summer the extraordinary appearance of the Ocean as regards color and cleanness attracted the attention of not only the residents but the fishermen. The sea had streaks of three to four different hues, dark purple, indigo blue, and slate color, so strongly delineated as to arrest the most sluggish observer, and at a distance where heretofore it has exhibited only one color varying at different periods of the day, when examined near appeared white under the surface, as though (as the fisherman said) the cows had been milked into it. This was not only alongshore but reached away off some miles, the Cholera was raging this year, perhaps in some mysterious way connected with it.


            In the spring of 1834 I received a note from a sister asking me to accompany her and her children to Paris to meet her husband who had been absent some months, it was a request I could not well refuse more particularly as I had already made an arrangement with Harding to go that fall. Accordingly we wrote to Fox Livingstone + Company and

engaged passages on board the new ship “Silvie de Grasse” to sail on the first of June. Arriving at the City Hotel kept by Jennings, we were wind bound until the 16th, which was exceedingly irksome being confined by East wind, sleet and mud, most of the time to the house. I recollect little of my employment of time with the exception of my passing the whole of one Sunday the day before sailing with a young dentist named Parmly who has since risen to the highest rank in his profession; who filled several of my teeth to the amount of forty dollars in pay, and to his credit be it said they still remain in tact to this day – thirty three years after and all of the teeth I ever had with exception of three all in good order entering my seventy third year – during our sojourn at the City Hotel Miss Fanny Kemble occupied the opposite room to mine, having just arrived. Some of her large trunks had been placed close to my door, and one afternoon coming suddenly out of my room at the sound of the tea bell I recall my confusion at falling head foremost into one of these Theatrical trunks which had been left open for the moment. Miss Kemble being on the floor near by ransacking another one.


            Some of the time I passed in New York before sailing in visiting the private galleries of which there were a few in those days. In one of these galleries I saw a very good copy of the Chapeau de Paille by Rubens, which recalled to my recollection the first time I saw the original painting by Rubens. It was one morning during the spring of 1823 or 4, I forget which, that my friend Stuart Newton the artist came into my room in Great Marlborough Street, London and asked me to go and see a fine painting in the same Street at a Mr Smith’s carver + guilder to the Prince Regent which he Newton had just been looking at. I went with him + was very much delighted. Mr Smith had it in a large Mahogany Box which he only unlocked to show to a few, as he then intended exhibiting it, the history of this painting coming into his possession was thus. The Prince Regent sent Mr Smith to the continent to purchase it hearing it was for sale he limited him to a certain price which Mr Smith only exceeded by a few guineas which gave the Prince an opportunity (having in the meantime been in want of money) to repudiate and leave it on Mr Smith’s hands who could not afford the money some three or fie thousand pounds; it was of a price with many of the shabby transactions told of the Prince in those days. Mr Smith was in some trouble and anxiety about it when he showed it to Newton and myself, he however finally exhibited it by itself that spring, and so great was the rush to see it, that he obtained by the exhibition more than he gave for it and at the close sold it to Sir Robert Peel for the original sum the transaction with the Prince probably carried many to see it who cared little for the painting. There is another story attached to this painting in relation to this country. Mr Culvert of Bladenburgh near Washington married the daughter of Mr Stier, the owner, who during Napoleon’s robbery of the Paintings on the Continent sent out several Boxes of Paintings to his son in law for safe keeping and I have a faint recollection the late Benjamin Crowningshield Secretary of the Navy told me that he accompanied the late President Munroe to Bladenburgh to see these Paintings and that the Chapeau de Paille was one of them, and that they were offered Mr Calvert as his wife’s dower but refused.


            There is nothing in the pursuit value of money more astonishing than the nominal prices of paintings. I myself was at the sale of the gallery of “Michel Angelo Taylor” in London where a fine collection of the old masters were sold, amongst which was the celebrated painting of the Rainbow by Rubens, of the sale of many of these paintings I have read since at five hundred pr. Ct. above what they then brought. Some of Allstons paintings have equally risen in value. Jeremiah and his Scribe for which we are under the impression he received only one thousand dollars has just been sold for seven. His “Bloody Hand” from Mrs Ratcliff – bought by Mrs. Ball formerly Miss Channing has also been sold for five to six thousand dollars for which Allston I am very certain did not receive more than seven or eight hundred.


            To return from my digression we sailed from New York after having been wind bound sixteen days. We had a very mild pleasant passage; our Captain Weiderholl, we found an amiable man + good seaman, we passed the fourth of July on board with toasts champagne +c. +c. and arrived at Havre somewhere about the eighth or ninth of July, where I found a letter from Martin Brimmer asking me to join him in London at Havre we met my brother in law waiting for his family who immediately proceeded with them to Paris I promising to take care of and forward his baggage. I remained longer, time

enough to get them out of the ship and through the Custom House and dispatched to Paris; when I engaged my passage on board the English Steam Boat for Southampton, to sail that afternoon delighted to get out of Havre where I had been just ten years before, waiting for Lafayette, whose death a few days before we landed had been announced at Havre. – Just before I went on board and previous to leaving the Hotel I saw Leopold the Belgian King and his young French wife. Louis Phillip’s daughter take their places in their carriage for Paris, having just arrived from London his hair appeared quite white which astonished me, as I had seen his portrait only ten years before. In Sir Thomas Lawrences room, just then painted, with dark brown hair. The days of Royalty are not probably easy.


            I cannot describe the delightfull feelings that seized me the next morning when steaming in between the Isle of Wight and Portsmouth on the right, Norris Castle, Ride + Cowes on the left in the months of July when the foliage was so soft and beautiful everything in its highest perfection, more striking from coming out of such a dirty, heated place as Havre; and the effect upon me was more striking, from having the last night in Havre been indisposed and the heat and closeness of the atmosphere preventing my sleeping and I had got up and opened a side window and blinds, about 2 o’clock when my attention was arrested by a sight in the opposite old building from which I could not take my eyes off, looking directly down into the room where I saw two old Hags laying out a dead body, stripping it of rags and poultices and throwing them out of the window into the street, the scene seemed to have a magnetic power over me I couldn’t move or take my eyes off and feverish and sick I pulled down my window with a slam which must have startled them and getting into bed slept until noon next day, and was glad to take the afternoon steamer and come away from Havre. This was my second visit to Havre in both of which I was detained. I was there once afterwards.


            Arriving at Southampton I went to the best Hotel the name of which I forget, but taken with one of my not unusual sick headaches I dosed myself and went to bed. I remained there two days walking about the town and visiting the environs. I recollect seeing a crowd on the wharf round a sloop, which led me to go near to it, and a few minutes after a carriage drove down with Post-horses out of which a great fat coarse looking woman decended + took an arm chair on the deck surrounded by several very pretty women drest in high style, and joined by several men well dressed. I understood it was the Duchess of St. Albane and her domestics, going to the Isle of Wight, her face was exceedingly red, and the crowd on the wharf were making all kind of remarks many of which she mush have heard – and she richly deserved – for there is something shocking in both Miss Farren’s and Miss Mellon’s early histories; engaged to their late husbands previous to their first wives deaths. The night before starting for London I paid for the Box seat, which is eagerly sought by all travellers and it gives a fine opportunity of seeing the Country and acquiring information form the driver, who were mostly composed in those days of men who had seen better positions in life, lost their fortunes or been in the Army, they bought their places some paying from one to three hundred pound for their seats according to the rout. It was a splendid morning and although not feeling over and above strong after my late headache. I was in good spirits and of an enquiring mind, the stage coach is brought and placed before the door, without the horses, the baggage is stowed away and the passengers are called and take their places and then four grooms lead out the four horses groomed in the very highest style so that their hair looks like silk, all being ready the guard on behind. The driver comes out dressed in blue coat, white breeches, and white top boots, white leather gloves and mounts the box, his reins are handed up to him the four grooms still holding the heads of the four horses, his whip is then thrown up to him and he asks’, are all ready? Go! Like a flash the four grooms whisk the blankets off the horses and they spring forward on the run, it is all done in silence, every one in his place no noise; and if a fair day, like the one I had the good fortune of starting in, there is no more exhilarating scene in Europe. Alas! All Stage Coaches and Post riding has been done away with and now you go shut up in a box from one city to another without seeing anything of the country or the gentlemen’s seats on the road, it is a saving of time but a great sacrifice of pleasure; of course all for the nice comfortable Inns and stopping places on the road are bye gones, we went on at the rate of ten miles an hour. I found my neighbor the driver exceedingly polite and communicative he pointed out to me all of the principal places on the road and gave me their histories. I observed the left leader chaffed and fretted greatly, bleeding at the bit, he gave the reins into my hands, pulling them up first, and got down and undid a strap in the headstall to lengthen the bits, the horse reared on his hind legs and putting his forefeet on his shoulders crushed him down on the ground, the gentlemen on the outside and the guard rushed forward from their seats and held the horse, whilst they got him up, and the bits in the horses mouth again the horses feet seemed to be standing on the drivers leg when on the ground so we were not astonished when we saw him limp when climbing on to the box again and I expressed regret that he was suffering so from the horse treading on him; to my astonishment and that of the gentlemen behind us he said it did not pain him at all and with the exception of the fatigue he was as well as when we started. Why said I; you seemed to limp + we saw the horse treading upon you he answered – Oh! My dear sir! That’s a cork leg, the original was lost in battle. I am sorry I did not think of asking him where, perhaps at Waterloo.         He told me that he owned all of the horses that he drove on this rout up to London. That Lord somebody whose Estate we should pass had sent for him one day six months previous to ask advice about a sick horse which he valued very highly having cost him a great deal of money. He found the Horse lying in straw, given over by the veterinary surgeons, he thought he could curse him, he told his Lordship who immediately said – if you will try I will sell him to you for five pounds, he is a favorite horse he immediately accepted the offer sent a large spacious wagon filled with straw, brought him to his stable; and that gentlemen, is the horse you have taken me from under today, and this is the first day I have put the harness upon him and the head stall has proved too short for him and drew the bits up so as to bleed his mouth, he is full blooded and I would not take as many hundred guineas as I gave pounds for him. I only put him on the lead to exercise him I shall change the whole team at my next stable. This driver was finished gentleman in his Manners and conversation had been an officer in the army, and I doubt not was in receipt of a handsome income, from perquisites on this great fashionable road, his manners were so gentle, and the information he conveyed, about the seats of the gentry, so extensive and satisfactory that I had not a doubt of his position being a very lucrative one. Becoming somewhat fatigued from the excitement of the morning and the distance from London being still considerable I asked the driver if he could not put me down at some comfortable respectable Inn by the roadside where I could pass a comfortable night and enter London the next morning by some of the early passing carriages, he answered in the affirmative and in about half an hour he pulled up before a neat comfortable looking small two story house bordering on Virginia Water and Windsor Forest where alighting and speaking to the Landlord and having my trunk taken off with assurance I would be well cared for he left me.      = To make another digression – A friend came down to breakfast this morning and states that he and his wife were very much disturbed by a large picture hanging at the head of their bed, coming down with a crash and putting them in danger of their lives; it brought immediately to my mind a similar occurrence that happened to me in Great Marlborough Street London in 1823.


            I had been to Drury Lane Theatre one evening and retiring late to bed, past midnight, very much fatigued. I scarcely got to sleep before a crash took place at the head of my bed, which appeared like the coming down of the wall and with a spring I jumpt into the middle of the room and catching up my phosphorous box unfortunately lighted the whole box in a second the police rattles were sprung all down Poland street up through Marlborough, the second police street in London . in a few moments there were twenty of the police at the front door, who when they learnt the occasion of the light left me to enquire at the next door the occasion of the noise.


            The next morning Mr Klose (purveyor to the Prince Regent) my landlord explained to me the noise, it appeared that he hired the next house against which my bed headed and that he used it for storing his flour and his workmen had to get up early in the morning to prepare their bread, and in trying to get out one barrel in the dark they had set in motion nearly a hundred which accounted for the crash and disturbance. To return to my journey I found at the Inn at Virginia Water everything in first rate neatness, a nice carpeted bed room with bed and window curtains old fashioned easy chair and everything in perfect order + keeping and precisely such an Inn as Washington Irving and others have described of those days and I can’t express how impressed I was, with the comfort of a true first rate English Inn by the way side moreover my kind driver had spoken a good word for me, and the Landlord was all kind in his communications and attentions, and to my belief I was the only paying lodger in his house that night, and had his best bedroom the windows were latticed in old style, the whole sash opening at once letting in the fresh air from Windsor Forest, so delightful of a warm morning of July – although forty four years ago and I am writing this where the snow is a foot deep upon the ground. My recollections are so strong and imagination so powerful that at moments I feel as though I felt the blandness of that morning air. This Inn was mostly supported by the gentry, who came down to visit the Forest for a day only from London and its vicinity. I regretted not being able to remain a week but as I had made my arrangements to meet Brimmer who I was afraid might be tired of waiting + leave London. I took one of the early stages the next morning and had a delightful ride into this great city. Stopping at the White Heart Cellar where all the stages put up I took a Cab and drove to Slaughters Coffee House, Leicester Square, where clergymen and Army Officers usually put up which I found a very comfortable house, with reasonable prices and much more agreeable than any of the large Hotels like the Brunswick and Morleys, where I have since put up. I found Brimmer at Fualades near the Italian Opera House giving a guinea a day for his room not so large or comfortable as mine for which I gave half a crown and as we both dined out and paid for our eating else-where I thought then and think now, it is a sacrifice of money and comfort for show; if with females, it is necessary, as few females live at the Coffee Houses, there being private Lodging Houses everywhere in London, at all prices, in all parts of the city. I occupied myself a whole day in visiting old places where I had lived renewing old acquaintances, amongst others my first Landlord corner of Charles Street Middlesex Hospital who I found had been successful in business and had moved into a large store in Oxford Street, at which pace calling I found his widow in deep mourning having lost her husband about a month before. From thence I drove to Great Marlborough Street and found Mr + Mrs. Klose out, and asking their female shop tenders some questions about them it struck me as very curious that they should ask me if I was Mr M____ as it was ten years that month that I had left London. They said that very morning Mr + Mrs. Klose had been talking about me wondering if I was alive.


            Spiritualists of the present day would endeavor probably to attribute this to some magnetic influence that my presence in London conveyed. Brimmer and myself took a Post chaise and went down to Windsor and passed Sunday and thence to Hampton Court Palace, Richmond +c. +c. occupying three to four days upon our return I found a polite note from Lord Lindhurst enclosing two admissions to the House of Lords. Lord L__. Was the Lord chancellor at that time. It was generally stated that the Duke of Wellington was to speak that night on the Oxford question. Brimmer was engaged to go the next day into the Country to visit Sir Henry Parnell to whom he had letters from his father in Law Mr Wardsworth of Genesceo [spell?] arriving and presenting our orders the Sergeant at Arms said they were not good for two the same night, here was a trouble for we were both anxious to hear the Duke and Brimmer could not come the next night so we agreed at my proposal to turn a cent, and Brimmer got it and went in and I returned some what disappointed to my coffee House,. The next morning while taking my coffee I read in the papers that the Duke did not speak, but probably would that night; presuming that Brimmer had left I did not call upon him, but went to make a call upon the Rev. Mr Ramsay + lady she being an old American acquaintance and he I may designate as the Clergyman who read the funeral service over the wife of Sir Walter Scott at Abbottsford. Mr Ramsay said he should probably meet me in the House of Lords as he intended going that evening – At the opening of the gallery I was punctual in providing myself with a front seat and I met Mr R. who took a seat next to me which was a great satisfaction as he knew by sight many of the most prominent characters and pointed them out, some few of whom I had seen ten years before. Suddenly to my perfect astonishment I saw Brimmer come in from behind the woolrack, and clinching the arm of Mr Ramsey. I exclaimed how could he have got in there – who! Asked Mr R? – Mr Brimmer I replied! – Where is he? There said I – pointing to him, - Why that’s the duke of Wellington. This will be strong evidence of a likeness between them, yet when the Duke arose to speak I did not see the resemblance so strong, it was mostly in the contour of the Head, The Dukes head and figure were larger, but looking down upon him he was foreshortened so as to reduce him to Brimmers outline he said very little and in a common place manner, and when seated was twirling a gold pencil case continually in his right hand with his hat drawn over his eyes as though the light hurt him. I had seen him ten years before in the street on Horse back; in the Royal Box behind the King at the Theater. At the head of the Regiment at Hounslow Heath at the great review, he looked taller on horseback than at any other time, which makes me think his legs were not in strict proportion to other parts of his body. He was a great man and above all a perfect gentleman as the world understands the term. He Brimmer – and all I seemed to have seen in those days including Leslie + Newton, my old friends and acquaintances, have all been laid long since in their graves. Newton at this time was in what the French call a Maizon de Sante. I was offered an opportunity to visit him by his sisters, but not to allow him to see me, but to look at him as he was walking in the grounds this was repugnant to my feelings. I could not look upon a friend in that condition. I had no idle unnatural curiosity of that kind it would have pained me to have thus seen him. I had rather recall him as I last saw him, friendly, sociable, + ready to talk over old times and scenes when we lived near each other in Great Marlborough Street. Leslie I passed a morning with at his Villa at St John Comber Wood out of London, he had grown old and was becoming an author, his family were all absent he had not the genius of Newton nor the eye for color, but was more thoroughly educated; but for the delicacy and refinement in female beauty of the highest order of sentiment (if I have expressed it right) Newton was far his superior. In fact no one but Jackson had the eye for color that Newton had. Had Newton have had the education in the Life Academy that Leslie had I have not a doubt he would have taken the highest position in his style of subjects, taken from Moliere, Vicar of Wakefield +c. +c. +c. Leslie was phlegmatic, cold in his manners – Newton warm and impulsive a little of the cocks comb about him fond of courting the society of Tom. Moore Harness and others, Sidney Smith +c. +c. but a gentleman to everybody – I was in his room I heard – 1824 – Moore stating the trouble of the giving up to Mrs Leigh the manuscripts of Lord Byron’s life given to him by the noble author himself, and by him pledged to Murray for Ten thousand pounds this was before it got into the papers and Moore was in great trouble about it for he was greatly in debt at that time, as he always was, and it has often been a subject of reflection to me, how strange and degrading it was that a class of men like Moore Sidney Smith, Campbell, possessed of first rate genius and talents should have spent so much of their lives at Bowood Lord Lansdown’s and at Holland house feasting when the noble Lords estimated them as little higher than play actors. Macready, Kean, +c. +c. Wardsworth for whom the community had far greater respect was a religious man and self denying but was said to have had a great dislike to Lord Byron. In 1823 – When Lord Byrons death was announced, Scott, Campbell, Wardsworth, Southey, and others were dining with Sam Rogers amongst whom was the author of Elisa; Charles Lamb.


            They were commenting upon the works of Byron, his character +c. +c. when Wardsworth who was known by the others always to have been jealous of Lord Byron and to have denied his great abilities – observed – You extol Manfredi, I object, any one of Respectable talents could write as well, I could, if I had a mind to. Ah! That’s it, Wardsworth, said Charles Lamb, so you could if you had a mind to.



End of Vol. I.       [three illegible words follow]

Vol II.


                                                                        My heart is filled (at the return of my birth day March 12th 1867 aged 72) with perfect joyful submission to the will of God, with full acknowledgement of his great mercy and forbearance in permitting me to outlive the usual time allotted to man, and bestowing upon me sinner as I am, hopes of a more glorious life hereafter, purchased by the blood and sacrifice of his son my Redeemer.


“O thou unknown Almighty cause

Of all my hope and fear,

In whose dread presence ere an hour,

Perhaps I must appear,

If I have wandered in those paths

Of life, I ought to shun,

As something loudly in my breast,

Remonstrates – I have done;


When with intention I have erred

No other plea I have

But thou act good, and goodness still

Delighteth to forgive.”



                        Shortly after my visit to the House of Lords as described in the first Vol. my friend Brimmer having gone on a visit to Sir Henry Parnell, I found London dull and became anxious to reach Paris in time to witness the uncovering of the Statue of Napoleon on the pillar in the Place Vendome which was to take place in a few days, consequently I booked myself at the White Horse Cellar for the seat next the driver on the coach that was to start the next morning for Southampton, so as to meet the packet for Havre that night. When the morning came it was a splendid day and I had been anticipating a delightful ride down to Southampton, when to my great chagrin I awoke with one of my sick headaches, brought on by over excitement and indigestion I called a Cab and proceeded to Piccadilly where I found the Coach at the door of the White Horse ready to start and I changed my seat outside for one in, where there was but one solitary passenger a very gentlemanly middle aged man of a Military appearance with a great spread of Maps on the seats, which led me to express a fear I was incommoding him but was answered, not the least, but on the contrary he wanted a companion shortly the exercise of riding and the fresh air began to dispel my pain in my head and led to conversation and although I occasionally cast a wistfull look at the Box seat, I had no reason to regret my change (as I had reason to find and think afterwards) he was a polished gentleman and of general information; had seen foreign service I soon learnt from his conversation and while passing Virginia Water and the little Inn by the roadside I had a few days before slept at; I drew his attention to the broken ragged state of some of the fence. He answered very true I was pointing it out to his majesty but a day or two since, this answer created intense desire to know who I was riding with. I was aware during my former residence in London that noblemen of the highest rank sometimes rode in the mail coaches, and the Iron Duke himself was known to have been in his seat in the House of Lords to a late hour and to have been seen at the Pump room early the next morning, at Bath, having rode in the Kings mail, all night an English gentleman told me that a friend of his, had a son in the Army who had got into some scrape wherein he had been wrongly misrepresented by some other offices and was made a scapegoat and his father tried every way to get access to the Duke, who had given out to his secretaries that he would not be spoken to on the subject. One night he was coming up to London on the mail with a single  other passenger inside, who waking up, became very polite and inclined to converse, which they did until at break of day the mail stopped before Apsley House and it proved to be the Duke who got out he said his friend was most distracted when thinking of the chance he had lost of pleading + explaining the cause of his son.        


            To return to my rout to Southampton, after discussing several subjects amongst others the Kings messenger, about being dispatcher to summon to England Sir Robert

Pul who was then in Italy, but not recalled until a later date. My unknown companion spoke of the East India charter then about expiring, and observed that they would probably hereafter experience some rivalry from American ships, some of which he had seen and very fine ones they were, assenting to this, he asked me if I had ever been in American + to my replying “I was born there” he expressed considerable surprise. I know not why otherwise than that the Countries were not so well known to each other then as now, and few of our countrymen travelled for pleasure alone. I thought he seemed inclined if possible, to be more courteous , + attentive, and some miles before we reached Southampton, he remarked, that he was going to the Isle of Wight to visit his mother there and it would give him the greatest pleasure if I would accompany him and pass a fortnight, the time he Had allotted to remain there, he would insure me a warm welcome from his mother, who had a Cottage, all of this was urged with so much sincerity on his part, that I felt a great regret in not being able to take advantage of his kindness, as I was expecting to meet my friend Horatio Greenough the Sculptor in Paris and accompany him to Italy, and I was fearful he might be obliged to go without me, if I loitered on the way and moreover, before going up to London, I had passed two days at the Isle of Wight and seen all that I cared about seeing as regarded scenery for so limited a time. A more picturesque, rural, fascinating spot, it is not easy to imagine a fortnight or months residence would not suffice at the season I was there – August the 5th 1834 before joining my friend Brimmer in London. Upon descending from the coach at the Hotel, I had put up at before, we exchanged cards he observing that he hoped we should meet during the winter in Rome, where he now expected to go to reinstate his health. His card had on it Col. James Tod upon my arrival in Rome the following Jany 7. I was accosted by Mr James Bowdoin, an American friend for a long time resident in Europe and who passed his Winters in Italy – with the question – how I became acquainted with Col. Td? This drew from me the question, how he knew I was acquainted with Col. Tod. His answer was, that at the British Consul Mr. Freeborn’s there was a card of Col Tod’s for me, awaiting my coming which induced him to ask of Lord H___ an English General Officer an acquaintance – who Col. Tod was? And received for reply that he was on of the finest Officers in the English Service and a Protégé of King William the 4th – having accompanied Col. Fitzclarence just created Earl of Munster to India and afterwards had been Governor of Rajasthan, and by his maps Lord Cornwallis had obtained his victory over Tippo Saib and that he had but lately returned from India, dedicating two large quarto vols to the King . . . It was agreeable to me to hear this and I lost no time in getting his card at Freeborn’s with whom I had become acquainted in London, through Brimmer, in the Summer. I proceeded immediately to the Barberini Palace where I was received with great kindness by Col Todd, and introduced to his wife and he expressed regret I had not gone to his mothers, who was equally sorry for she had told him, that he had been travelling with a blood relation, one descended from the same stock as himself; that our great grandmothers were sisters, four daughters of Donald Grant of Balwhydolen of Wales + Temple Talmadge.


One – Mrs. Hunley – Grandmother of Mrs. Tod

One – Mrs Powell –                         of Mrs. Mason

One – Mrs Gordon -                          of Mrs. Dexter

One – Mrs. Champlin – “                     of Mrs. B. Mason


                        I met Col Tod often after this and he sent me his Vols on India and was projecting a visit to the United States. When presenting his check at his Bankers in Lombardy Street London in 1835 he fell dead at the counter. See English Magazine.*


            Leaving Southampton in the evening in the Steamer I arrived next morning at Havre and found a Packet just in from America and amongst the passengers a Mr + Mrs Lane and a young man by the name of Barnard all from New York the seats in the Diligences for Paris had all been taken for a week ahead, to carry persons going to Paris for the Fete of course we had no other chance but the small steamer on the Seine to Rouen


*Gentlemens Magazine – 1835 – Boston Atheneum


where we expected to obtain Post Horses towards evening we arrived at Rouen and my young friend and new acquaintance Barnard – it being his first visit to Europe, asked to accompany me to Paris, to which I willingly assented, and leaving him to take care of the baggage I jumpt on shore as soon as the steamer touched the wharf and running to the Hotel, sent a servant to engage a carriage, to take us to Paris the next day – it so happened it was the only one not engaged and Mr + Mrs. Lane being in distress, having heard of a child being sick, they had left where going to the United States. I immediately relinquished the carriage to them and sent a douceur to the conductor of the diligence, to come and see me that eve? And after many solicitations and offers on my part, and his stating, that if he took more passengers than already engaged he would lose his  place, be imprisoned and fined, he finally agreed if we would send our trunks to him in half an hour and would be in waiting for the Diligence on top of the Hill, out of Rouen on the road to Paris, next morning at four o’clock, he would stow us away amongst the Trunks, on the top, in straw, and cover us over with the leather baggage covering, and when we arrived at the gates of the towns we were to pass through we must get down before the Officers saw us, and walk through out of the farther gate, and to leave the Diligence at St. Denis gates for good, all of which we did, one of the hottest days of August 1834. I ever experienced having just air holes in the leather canvass enough to prevent suffocation. After having settled all of these preliminaries with the conductor my young friend proposed my accompanying him to see the Rouen celebrated Cathedral, before we eat

our dinner, it was the hour of vespers and the people at their oirsons: we roamed about looking at the Mausoleums and perfectly absorbed, forgetting our dinner and the passing of time, we did not notice the egress of the peasantry, so immense is the building finally coming to our sense, as the darkness increased, we made for the doors and found them all closed, and we locked in for the night, here was a sensation for us, our trunks were on the Diligence, no one knew, or could imagine where we were, nor were there any persons who would be likely to enquire but the conductor who would only look for us next morning on the Hill. I deeply accused myself of foolishness. I was very much fatigued by the excitement of the day, the long winding passage of a hot day on the deck of a small steamer in a narrow river and the subsequent long talk to persuade the Conductor to take us next morning altogether had exhausted me, and the want of food esides, to be sure I had only come to gratify my young friend but he was not to be supposed to know as much as I did as he had never been in a Cathedral or Europe before.                 We were both discussing our situation and prospects for the night, and the hours were passing when the glimmer of something at the farthest end of the Cathedral caught our eye and then as suddenly disappeared and we conjectured it must have been a star through one of the casemates which were open. In a few moments after we saw a strong reflection on one of the Mausoleum and became aware that a light was moving at the extreme end of the building we then each of set up a yell thinking to astonish one another by the power of our voices, we could hardly hear any sound and we began to accuse each other of not trying, the fact was, the building was so immense that our greatest exertion only produced a whisper and despairing of that, we set out and ran towards the light, the sacristian did not seem to be in the least astonished or alarmed, and the supposition is that some one got shut in most every night, - After giving him a small perquisite, we rushed to our Hotel + eat a supper instead of dinner, paid our bills, turned in, slept four to five hours and were called at three o’clock, and in one of the densest fogs I ever knew walked to the top of the Hill near Rouen where waiting a short time we soon heard the crack, crack, crack of the Postilions Whip, coming up the Hill. We mounted to the top amongst the trunks and in the straw slept very well a part of the time and excepting the heat and in the middle of the day.


the incognito we were obliged to observe the trouble of getting up and down from such a height, when we approached the towns, and St. Denis the gate of Paris we were about as comfortable as those inside, an then we could smoke; they could note; have a bottle of wine, sausage break + cheese which the conductor procured for us and helped dispose of.


            After our arrival in Paris I saw nothing of my fellow prisoner in the Cathedral. Mr Barnard, nor have I seen him since to my knowledge thirty three years ago, he would be likely to know me, but time must have made a great change in him if living, as he was a mere boy. Mr + Mrs Lane I met twenty years after this at Lenox in 1854 she an invalid and after walking with her one moonlight evening before the front of Curtis’s private boarding house (where we were living) until nearly 10 o’clock I was greatly shocked to hear when coming down to breakfast in the morning that she had died in the night, probably heart disease, I met her husband and daughter two years after at Cologne on the Rhine, when I was coming home with my sons. I went in Paris to the Hotel del Europe one of a cluster of Buildings pulled down to make a square opposite the Palais Royal and adjoining the large Hotel de Louvre.


            There Horatio Greenough the sculptor joined me. At the Hotel Castiliogne I found Col. Joseph M. White + wife of Florida and at madam Boufils Rue Rivoli Mrs. William Weyman son and two daughters.            After passing some two weeks or so in Paris I purchased a carriage and invited Greenough to accompany me to Italy, he having finished what he came for in Paris. In our visits to the whites we were asked by them to join their party consisting of the Weymans + themselves, which we were glad to do not however anticipating then the effect it would produce in the destiny of one of us.            We left Paris Mrs. Weyman + family in a large English Landon Mr + Mrs. White in a Barouche; Greenough and myself in another Barouche the 15th of Sept. or near that day, the first stop we made was at Fontainebleau where we visited the Palace, the weather was fine, the beginning of the grape season and we all were in good spirits, being the first visit of any of us to Italy. The Weymans had but a month or two before lost a son + brother, but the season of the year, the beauty of the scenery + the quietness of our party riding through beautiful vineyards everywhere had a soothing effect upon both mother and daughters and when round our tea table at night we conversed freely upon what we had seen during the day, and retiring early to rest, started again early in the morning passed through a beautiful country to Auxerne to sleep and the next night we proceeded as far as Chalons; from thence by Lonsee Sannier to village of St. Cerque on the Pole Jura Mountains, down to Nion and thence to Geneva. The view from the Dole commanding a view of the Lake of Geneva is said by artists to be the chief d auvre of all views in the world and the descent, winding backward and forward on a board well guarded road exhibits to the Tourist the whole range of the Alps, Mont Blanc in the centre, all the way down to Nyon on the Lake and he that can behold this of a fine clear day, and not feel a tremor at the heart acknowledging the sublimity of the scene and the greatness of the power of God must be cold + senseless indeed. Mont Blanc and its range of snow covered mountains with the sitting sun gilding with yellow and purple tinges their lofty peaks, like so many clouds bordering the horizon, have a beautiful soothing effect upon the spirits and forcibly brings to the mind the beauty of the 19th Psm. “The Heavens declare the glory of God, the firmament showeth his handy work.” There is neither speech nor language; but their voices are heard among them.” We passed a day to rest at Geneva to visit the Bathing Houses; the roads being very dusty and then proceeded to Chambery to sleep and the next day to Lanslebourg the foot of the Mt. Cenis, this days ride was one of continued admiration and unceasing pleasure, the hills +  ravines Rocks + waterfalls, as we approached the mountain altogether with the Vinyards and the bland refreshing atmosphere of a summers eve, the sun declining + gilding the neighboring Peaks, + the peasantry returning to their cottages, were sources of a train of feelings not to be described or communicated by words; we found a very good hotel to rest at previous to making the passage the next day. We started early in the morning, had to lunch on the summit of fresh trout from the Lake there, and arrived to dine + sleep at Susa in Italy the other side very little fatigued the air of the mountain being exceedingly refreshing. The next morning we started and arrived at Turin early in the day and passed that night; her we saw Paul Veronese painting of the Last Supper. (The last supper by Leonardo de Vinci is at Milan in the refectory of Santa Maria delle Grazie.) From Turin we went to Milan and there visited the Scala at that time the largest Theatre in Europe, also went on top of the Cathedral, where one of the finest views of the Alps is to be seen taking in Mt. Rosa. Great St. Bernard + the Simpton which I believe no where else can be seen in one view from Milan we went to Brescea and thence to drive + sleep at Peckiera on the the borders of the Lake de Garda one of the most romantic spots I ever saw, it seems impossible to do justice tin any description I can give of the rural beauty of this lovely place from thence we went to Verona saw the Amphileatre: put up at the Dua Foiri a good Inn; from thence went to Vicenza and thence to Venice, taking gondolas at St. Guilian where the Custom House was in those days before Rail Roads and the Bridge were built. We were rowed two miles and over into Venice to the Leoni Bianco close to the Rialto a very good house at that time the best in Venice – we visited all the galleries and saw Paul Verona in all his glory, none finer for color in the world than those in Venice some of Titians finest productions are there also. Col. White being the member from Florida in Congress hurried our departure and we only stayed from four to five days in Venice + when I recall those days, a deep sadness comes over me, for I alone, the oldest at that time but one, am now the only one living out of a party of ten including the courier of whose death I heard afterwards. We left Venice for Padua and thence to Mantu and thence to Ferrara thence to Bologne passing through vinyards where the vines were breaking down with grapes of the most luscious kind indeed we never seemed to tire or be clogged with eating them, beginning with the breakfast and only ending at night. Procuring them all along on the road fresh from the vines the season of the year like our Indian Summer was the finest to travel in Northern Italy, neither too hot, nor too cold and all that we had to find amiss was the rapidity with which we were travelling and not being able to stay longer at Venice and the other places on account of Whites engagements at Washington. Remaining a day at Bologne where there is a leaning Tower like that at Pisa also a fine collection of Paintings; from Bologne to Florence crossing the Appenines there is a Palace by the roadside Caffaggiolo built by Casme de Medici, celebrated for the murder of Eleanor of Toledo, murdered by her husband Pietro de Medici July 11, 1576.      The descent to Florence during a warm sunny afternoon the latter end of September passing Palaces, villas, Country houses, the vegetation luxuriant with vines + mulberries, the Cypress and Box hedges filling with air with odor, altogether was exhilarating, and presently the sudden view of the city below us its spires and churches lighted up by the setting sun, the Amo sparkling in the distance, was surpassingly magnificent, such scenes come to us but seldom in ones life time, and if they impress us with the beauty of nature, and the power of God and his works, they are not seen in vain. If there is anything likely to touch and soften the harsh feelings of an obdurate, cold, selfish heart, it has appeared to me, that a beautiful sunset such as is seen amongst the Alps, Pyrennes, Appenines; would be most likely to do it.


“Oh! Who has ever gazed on such a scene

N’or thought the spirits of the blest were there?

Who that beholds not in the blue serene

Bright Isles the abode of pleasures yet unseen.

Except by those who freed from mortal care

Have winged their raptured flight to realms

      of upper air.”


            We drove across the Ponte alla Carraja on the Arno to Shneiderff’s celebrated hotel (the first at that time in Florence) where we remained a fortnight, when the Weymans + White removed to the Casa Albizzi in the Borgo Degli Albizzi not far from Santa Maria del Fiore the Duomo or Cathedral and I accompanied Greenough to his rooms in an old Carthusian Convent near the Porta a Pinti, in the Borgo di Pinti, where I found Mr Kinlock of South Carolina established, the next building was the residence of the Austrian Ambassidor + behind the Convent a Magnificent garden extending to the walls of the City, a part of which has since been converted into a Protestant cemetery. I remained there until I was married to Mrs. Weymans eldest daughter Isabella and then moved to Casa Albizzi.


November 15th 1834 There being no American minister or Consul in Tuscany I was married at the residence of Sir George Seymour the British Minister’s presence Horatio Greenough the sculptor officiating as groomsman. Col. White + Mr William Weyman having left in October for London + America, the former as delegate from Florida to the United States Congress neither of whom returned again to Italy which left me in care of the four ladies, as a marriage tour we all went to the Baths of Lucca to Pisa + Carrara. Greenough accompanying us, the weather continuing fine we visited Fiesole, Valambrosa and the environs of Florence and all of the galleries including the Pith Palace, and had many delightful Pic Nics there were several Americans resident in Florence amongst others Wm. C. Bryant the Poet and his family and a Mr + Mrs Thompson, the lady of the Livingston family of New York. We rode, the three ladies Greenough and myself almost daily in the Cascine on horseback and Mrs Weyman in a very nice Barouche that we hired by the month, we had two most excellent male domestics the one Jiachi Jiovochino a first rate courier and head servant who took the superintendence of all the house + procured everything and Luigi who tended table, and two female femme de chamber for the ladies, all of our provisions were brought daily from Restaurants and our washing done out of the house. Our house had a splendid large garden, and a chapel inside of the house large enough to have held a hundred people and was elegantly furnished, for all of which I only paid two hundred piasters per annum and for a handsome open carriage for four persons, servant in livery – thirty dollars per month. This must appear incredible to the expenses of the present time which appear as exorbitant when compared to those days, as the comforts are now diminished the crowds that overflow all of the cities of Europe from the United States have given rise to exorbitant demands from all the Hotel Keepers and the traveler finds no such comforts in return, as then; the traveler, is now the obliged, the Inn Keeper was then. The whole phase of foreign tourists is changed. It is the same in our own country and to so much greater extent, that it is still an object for economy to live abroad.


In the United States Col. White became acquainted with Achili Murat who was settled as an agriculturalist in Florida. Col. White was employed by the government, to transact some business with the French Government and young Murat took the opportunity of engaging him to solicit of Louis Phillipe some private property that his father the King had possessed in Paris, the consequence of this was that Madam Murat and Louis Bonaparte father of the present Emperor and Jerome Bonaparte all residents in Florence called upon Mrs White and invited our whole party  to their receptions, but my relatives being in deep mourning only Mrs White went, and we left Mrs White in Florence in our house with Luigi and the female servants - + took Jiacchi the courier and our Landan and with Post horses proceeded to Rome via Sienna where we stopt the first night and passed the next day in seeing its magnificent old churches the night we passed at Radicofam a gloomy road was this day over lava most of the way, the next night we arrived and passed at Montegiascone celebrated for its wines and the next day towards sunset descending a hill we saw the Sun lighting up the Dome of St. Peters.    and with our top thrown back of an evening like summer we entered the Porta del Popolo of this wonder of the world the fifth day from leaving Florence remaining one day at Tienna, we left some gentlemen amongst others the Duke de Dine of the Tallrand family. Skating on the Arno we crossed the Ponte alle Grazie in Florence and we drove into the square beyond the Porta del Popolo of Rome, without coats or shawls, dusty + heated. It has not been my intention to attempt anything bordering on a description of Paintings or Castles seen upon this road, or any other except where my feelings have been touched it would be an endless task to describe what we saw and where we went, sight hunting, amongst old churches and castles on the road. – nor shall I try to describe or expatiate on any other than the scenery, and that only when affecting the feelings my grand children will very probably have opportunities of seeing for themselves, for it is not impossible (if we may judge from the discoveries since my boyhood) but that they may cross the Ocean on wings some day future. We drove to the Hotel de Paris in the via Babrino one of the best in those days. In Rome we met my sister and husband + family + a cousin Mr Phillips and son.  we remained three nights in Rome visiting churches + St. Peters and Palaces and gardens and dining with our friends and making much of our new relative and his wife, Col. Tod whose acquaintance I made as narrated previously in this volume. We left Rome Jan’y the 7th and slept at Vellenti four Posts from Rome and Thursday we slept at Terracina – beautifully located on the Mediterranean Friday at Mala di Gaete also on the Mediterranean about six Posts from Naples, in front of the house was a garden of Orange Trees and at a distance Mount Vesuvius was emitting columns of black smoke tinged by the setting sun on Saturday the 10th of Jan’y we entered Naples and took apartments at the Vittoria Hotel fronting the Mediterranean, we rode to the baths + grotto at Pozznoli, we went to Baiae visited the Lake of Avenues, Sybyl’s grotto the hot baths of Nero +c. +c. went up Vesuvius and dined in the Crater 14th went to Pompeii and dined among the Ruins had a delightful day – 15th Visited Museo Bombonice and bought a copy of Raphaels mother + child. 19th – went to Virgils Scnola [spell?] + cave of his Mosaic work, eat bread + cheese at the hermits the day delightful, the Mediterranean calm and placid like a sheet of glass sky without a cloud, it is impossible to give an adequate idea of the serenity of the sea + landscape. The 21st went to Portici _ Herculaneum, visited the Palace of Portici beautifully located at the foot of Vesuvius fronting the Bay of Naples, saw a room of Porcelain said to have cost half a million, also the original of Grenets celebrated capuchin Chapel also visited the Palace Capodemonte belonging to the King. 22nd – Saw at the Church St. Severo, two statues – one Modesty covered with a veil by Corradini, very fine, the other Vice undeceived representing a man caught in a net, by Queirolo, also fine also a dead Christ, covered with a veil by Sam Martino in the church of St. Martin on the Hill. And directly over the statue is a painting of our Saviour + Mother by Spangnioletti. We left Naples the 24th and slept at Mola de Gaetae, air like midsummer we reached Teriacina, where with windows all open we saw Vesuvius in the distance throwing up columns of smoke, and the Islands of Ischea + Capri in bluish mist relieving against a most perfect sky. How such scenes subdue all evil passions + thoughts + lead the soul to higher aspirations, looking back on the past with contrition, on the future with hope. The 26th- we continued our journey leaving the shores of the Mediterranean with regret, calm as a summers eve without a ripple on its surface. We slept at Velletie and next day 27th – arrived at Rome just past Midday. 28th visited Dorea Palace also Borghese Palace and dined with the Sears’s. 29th – to St. Peters again + the Vatican. 30th – to Santa Maria Maggiom [spell?] the annunciation of Battoni, fine to my taste, objected to by some, visited St Giovanni in Lateran. Statue of Temperance in Corsini – chapel fine, also statue of Piety – intomb, went to top of the Coliseum. 31st – Passed the day in St. Peters my wife + I and sister in law, went up into the Ball, view (birds eye) magnificent as far as extend and clear sky could make it but of a different nature from that on the Mediterranean, one stupendous and grand, exhibiting the unlimited majesty of space, the other quiet, serene and soothing. The singing by Eunuchs at the Chapel; fine, returning – walked in Borghese gardens accompanied by Mr Sears, day very fine. February 3rd went to Coloma palace – painting of Madonna by Sarsafarlato – tolerable, best I have seen of this artist – Went to the Dorea fine view of St. Peters from it. Wednesday – to Barbenini Palace + St. Peters. Thursday 5th to Vatican and Palace of the Caesars. 6th To Chapel of St. Peters – anniversary of the crowning of the Pope. February 7th Visited Corsini Palace and chiasa St Croce – several fine Poussino – also the birth of our Saviour by Gherado delle Notti, like the one in the Boston Athaeneum. 9th Visited Thorwalsden’s studio, saw the twelve apostles also the studio of Bienami. Tuesday 10th Ladies went to St Peters. I went to Barbenini Palace to see Raphaels Fondrina and Beatrice Cenci by Guido, the 11th we went to Cardinal Fesch’s + the Scale Palace and san Titians Belladomie – 12th went to Campidoglio saw the civil Persico by Guerchino also many unfinished Guido’s, some fine Rubens. 13th – Went to see a model of the Coloseum and after dinner went to walk in the Coloseum by moonlight. A full moon and a most enchanting evening, the rays of the moon sparkling through the dark stone boxes here + there like fire, brought many associations of the horrible scenes acted here, in time of the Gladiators of an evening like the present directly under the eye of God. The great arena, pit, where the Gladiators used to mutilate each other, was this evening crowded with the elite of Rome and a most heavenly evening it was, and how many exciting and heart rendering reflections did it stir up, to find ones self upon such a night in this place we had so often read of in our youth. 14th – at Miss Bowdoins. 15th – Went to the Falls of Tivoli – fine day. 16th – Went in the evening to a Brilliant Ball at Torlonia’s our Banker’s. Feb’y 18th – Preparing to return to our house in Florence; taking leave of our friends.             Thursday 19th – The Marquis of Anglesey wrote me a note to ask my permission to let Jiachi my Courier (who had formerly been in his service) engage rooms for him at Florence. Assented to, and we left the Hotel de la Paix in Rome and slept the first night at Civita Castellana, Hotel de Crocebianca [spell?]. Friday – Fine weather travelled thirty one miles to Tierna, visited the Falls of Terni, more picturesque I think than Tivoli. Sat. 21st – I started immediately after breakfast on foot and walked several Posts arriving at Foligno some hour and a half before our carriage made its appearance and was a somewhat anxious being informed at Foligno, that the Wednesday previous a celebrated Bandit Canuta by name had been arrested with several of his band and sent to Rome having been the terror of this rode. This old town had been shaken by an earthquake five years previous and the walls of the Hotel where we were, were very much shaken. Speaking of the Bandit – riding on the outside of the carriage next day my courier told me of an adventure he had met when travelling with the Earl of Shrewsbury in whose service he had been, some two or three years before, the Earl about leaving Rome had ordered his carriages to be ready at a certain hour of the morning of a certain day, and at that moment of starting was unavoidably detained, he told Jiachi to take his carriage and proceed and the other carriage with the domestic, baggage +c. +c. to follow and to await him at some five Posts from Rome. At about three Posts from Rome they were surrounded by a Band of Brigands + Jiachi was taken out, the carriage pillages, and dismissed, and he carried up into the mountain and in no way could he persuade or make them believe that the was not the Earl. They demanded a ridiculous ransom for him and it was some time before he obtained his liberty and they became satisfied of their mistake. Sunday 22nd – The Scenery was very beautiful and walking ahead of the carriage in the decline of the day I came suddenly when descending a hill upon the borders of a beautiful Lake of Thrasimene celebrated for the Battle fought there under Hannible, the sun was going down as I reached the Road bordering the shore, which was studded with the richest Italian trees and foliage just budded forth foretelling early spring the quietness of the scene, reflections of the woods in the water brilliantly lighted by the setting sun and stillness of everything around me were deeply impressive to me, by no means unaccustomed as I was to woodland scenery and Lakes. We slept a Camuscia and the next day arrived at our home, the Caza Albizzi in Florence at dinner the 24th. The 26th we went with Greenough to see his statue of Washington and afterwards rode on the corso to see the masks and went to a masked Ball in the evening, he accompanying us. 27th – Rode on the corso, and to the Theatre in the evening; and again on the corso for several days in succession. Tuesday rode with my wife on horseback in the Cascene, and next day to Thompsons Villa. Sunday 8th – Horatio Greenough dined with us. Monday March 9th – Left Florence with vivid recollections of very many delightful months, weeks, days, + hours passed there. + misgivings that we should never see it again, but with the hope it would afford us food for conversation for after life, to me it had opened life anew, and as I now recall it in my old age (all of those then with me are in their graves) it impresses me with the feeling that it was another world I lived in prior to this –


“They all are gone into a world of light

And I alone sit lingering here,

Their very memory is fair + bright,

And my sad thoughts doth cheer.


I see them walking in an air of glory,

Whose light doth trample on my days;

My days, which are at best but dull + hoary,

Mere glimmerings and decays.”


During our residence in Florence amongst the acquaintances we made and whose houses we visited, was madam Valabreque, better known as the celebrated Catalini, we were at a concert at her house upon the introduction of a niece of hers who she had brought up. She had a very handsome villa at Fiesole. She sang once or twice herself but was old and her voice much broken, and her dress, cap, +c. +c. like an old woman of the 18th Century. I had seen and heard her twelve years before, often at the Italian Opera House London. When she was covered with diamonds and splendidly drest “Sie transit gloria mundi.” There were also a Mr + Mrs Anderson + two daughters at Florence, the lady was the person from whom Sir Walter Scott drew the character + person of his green mantle – we knew them well. She was a very showy dashing rider on horseback. I met the gentleman + daughters at Pau years after. She was dead. We stopt the first night at Monte Carelli at a small house by the roadside, noted for having trap doors and sliding panels having been once the rendezvous of Brigands. The next day we arrived to dine at Bolognia having passed through a very mountainous country we remained a couple of days at Bolognia and leaving, lunched at Modena the birth place of Corregio we slept at Reggio the 13th slept at Sandonio having lunched at Parma + visited the Palaces poor indeed after the Thuilleres. 14th – Lunched at Piacenza and slept at Lodi, walked on the celebrated Battle Bridge. 15th – Arrived at Milan, passed a day seeing a statue of Napoleon in bronze and ten horses for the Semplon Arch also the Cathedral and paintings, Ambrosian Library +c. +c. The 17th – we started for Turin slept at Novana passing a splendid bridge. 18th – Reached Cigliano a small fortified place, the ladies tired, had to stop for the night at a miserable Inn unfit for females had made a bad calculation. In the middle of the night was roused up by a noise in room and pimping out of bed to light a candle a myriad of rats pimpt across my legs – the room was full of them. Breakfast next morning at Cirazzo and slept at Turin weather very bad. 20th – of March snow and rain, sleeping at Susa – we crost the Mount Cenis next day. 21st – with six mules and dive guides in addition to our four horses, we reached Lansleborgh with much difficulty the snow had banked so on the mountain, from thence via Chamberg Aix and Frangy we reached Geneva the 26th and put up at the Del Eau Hotel well tired.


      Saturday 28th – Took passage in the Steamer Winkelred for Lausanne, slept at Ouchy at the Hotel del Ancre, where Lord Byron is said to have written the poem of Chillon. 29th – Visited the Cathedral Lautaume and returned to Geneva. Tuesday 31st – left Geneva and instead of crossing the Jura’s went round by Mantua, the road fine

scenery beautiful, passed a large fortification. April 1st – passed through a mountainous country to Lousee Janvier where we dined and slept. A great fair there. Thursday. The country becoming more flat and better cultivated passed Dole auxomme + genlis and slept at Dijon. Friday slept at Tonnere. Saturday the 4th – slept at Fountainbleux visited the Palace. Sunday 5, Started for Paris and arrived to dine at the Hotel D’ouvres rue de la Paix. Place Vendome Boulevards de Italians. Tuesday + Wednesday sight seeing. Thursday I called on Mrs. Willis, Mrs Brooks + Mrs Codman. Saturday Mrs M. sit for her miniature to Danbiguy. 22 cour de Hailey Pont Neuf was also painting at the same time the Young Duke D’Orlean who lost his life some years after by his horses running away with him. Thursday April 6th – very cold – snowing hailing + blowing; hackmen with great coats on. 17th – American claims passed the house of Deputies, there will be no War, Thanks to General Jackson for the stand and decision he has shown. 21st – Dined with Berry. 22nd – Still cold, horrible weather for Paris, never witnessed such weather anywhere before at this season o the year to my recollection. 25th – Still rainy, cold and cloudy. May 1st – Fair but cold. Great fete before the Thuilleres – fire works +c. +c.   Sunday 3rd – Cold but fair, dined with Mr + Mrs. Welles in company of the Marchioness of Wellesly Lady Stafford and Mrs. Caton, Mr. Vail + sisters.  Monday 4th – Saw Louis Phillipe with his Marshals review a fine body of cavalry in rear of the Thuilleres. Friday 6th of May. Left Paris for Havre slept at Mantes, Hotel White Horse, beautiful town. Saturday 9th – Slept at Rouen. Sunday arrived at Havre at the Hotel de London; Rested Monday + Tuesday during which time Miss Gibbs of Boston arrived, for whom I engaged my courier, Giovacchino Jiacchi, and then left in the Apollo for Southampton, glad to get away from such a dirty place as Havre. Arrived to sleep at the Vine Hotel the same night. Visisted Netley Abby +c. +c. Monday 18th – Rode from Southampton to Oxford 65 miles, from thence to Warwick a good house, from thence to Birmingham twenty miles, thence day after to Liverpool one hundred miles. Mrs. M. – quite sick called in Mr Bickerstith by my friend Gair’s advice. Thursday 28th of May – left in Ship Independence Capt. Nye for New York and arrived, twenty seventh of June 1835.

From 1835 to 1851 was a succession of years of domestic happiness such as few are allowed to experience in this changeable world, for which in the retrospection; I bow with the deepest gratitude to an ever merciful Father.     Upon arriving in Boston I purchased a house in Mt. Vernon Street fronting Louisbergh Square, then containing but ten to twelve houses and where all of my children were born, six in all, and from whence I moved in 1847 to Beacon St. opp. The Public Garden, during these sixteen years I passed but one summer in the city – alternately going to my mother in Law’s at Bloomingdale on the North (Hudson) River – To Newport + Nahant, and 1843 to Lebanon. I built the house in Beacon Street and resided there for five years, until the Fall of 1851 when my wife’s declining health imperatively demanded a change of climate the physicians recommending the South of France, from that period commenced trials cares + losses, that have never left me since, following in succession one after the other, and at a time of life not so easily borne as when youth was on my side. An almighty Providence nevertheless softened my heart and taught me that –


The Path of sorrow, and that Path alone

Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown

No traveler ever reached that blessed abode

Who found not horns and briers on the road.


Leaving my house, furniture + servants all to be disposed of, after my departure, it being late in the season to cross the Atlantic, I sailed with my whole family excepting the eldest October 6th 1851 accompanied by mother in Law and brother in Law and family, from New York in the Steamer Africa. The passage was pleasant + with little worthy of recording with the exception of a narrow escape from shipwreck – about the ninth day the Captain of the Steamer had told us, we should make Toney Light that evening early, consequently the passengers were on the alert looking out; Commodore Newton who was on his way to take command in the Mediterranean, mr Sam’l. Cabot and Mr M.—my Brother in law and myself had retired to the Cabin to play a game of whist. When we were interrupted by one of the passengers coming down and saying there was an immense dark cloud on our bow coming down upon us fast which threatened a squall, the commodore followed by me went up on deck and immediately exclaimed – “that’s no cloud we are going directly upon the land.” The wind was aft, our sail set and we were going ten to twelve knots per hour, and had not the helm have been put up and the ships course changed we should have been wrecked in less than an hour. We did not make the above mentioned light until near sundown the next day, so far out of their reckoning were the ships officers. The Commodore remarked to us during our game that was he to crowd sail + steam in that way when expecting to make land nothing could save him from being Court Marshaled in the United States Service.


     Arrived in Liverpool went to Adelphi Hotel, and two days after to London to the Queens Hotel in Cook street near the Burlington Arcade where we remained a fortnight, during which time accompanied by my son Arthur and my brother in law Mali [spell?] I dined with my old friend George Peabody at the great dinner he gave at the London Hotel to the American Committee of Exhibition at the Crystal Palace.


Leaving London for Paris via Folkstone + Bologne we proceeded after remaining one day to rest the ladies at the latter place; - to Meureces Hotel Rue Rivoli Paris where we remained another ten days making winter preparations for Pau. There was some excitement in Paris from the hostile feeling exhibited in opposition to the President in the Chamber of Deputies and there was a feeling in America before we sailed, that some great change was about to take place there. I and my brother were much struck by the extreme stillness in the streets of Paris which we had never witnessed before in any of our visits there, and there were no amusements going on amongst the masses, feeling rather nervous situation as I was with a sick wife, and family of small children, proposing to go through the centre of France to Pau. I thought it most advisable to call upon our minister Mr Rives of Virginia and ask him if he thought I might safely venture to go to that part of France (to Pau) which was considered always the least royal of any part of the Kingdom. His reply was instantaneous that there would be no trouble, that everything would be perfectly quiet, and the same was the answer of my friend S. G. Goodrich our consul in Paris at whose house Mali and myself passed an evening.  It was not there weeks after this that the Coup d’Etat took place and changed the whole face of everything – Banishing some of the leading men of the Kingdom and imprisoning others and restoring despotic power, but withal rendering France much more safe for foreigners than under the Republic.


We chartered a Diligence to take all to Bordeaux, taking the whole of my family and allowing us to stop where we pleased and as long as we pleased, there were no rails in those days. We slept the first night at Poitiers after passing through Orleans Blois + Tours, beautiful country we rested a day and started the 15th November and slept at Angouleme and passed the 16th + 17th arrived at Bordeaux ere reaching which the Vineyards were still in great beauty and reaching as far as the eye could extend. We remained two days at Huc’s Hotel seeing Bordeaux – went to the Theater – very dirty and noisy saw the Prophit. 20th of November rode all night + arrived next day at half past 3 o’clock at Hotel de France kept by Gardinere at Pau. Poitieres a Romantic old place famous for its battle, and dangerous. Angouleme surrounded by Terraces from which are magnificent veins of the Country and the River Charente which enriches it. There are thirty six paper factories – the people appear happy and content a fine band of music of 46 pieces played in the Park before our Hotel of a Sunday, in the old castle in this town Margaret of Valois was born.


The place where the Hotel de France is situated has the most extensive view of the Pyrennees that there is the eye taking in at once they say – thirty miles of the mountains and the valley of the Gene from the Pic du Midi opposite to the Mountains of Bagneres de Bigorre, and of Lourdes, and in the intermediate space including mountains of the Valley of Louzon of Bareges, Luz, St. Lauveur and Canterits also the Pic du Ger and the valley of Gabas and d’Orsan. The Place has a statue of Henry 4th from whence it is called the Place Royale a Pau. Of a setting sun in a warm afternoon nothing can be more refreshing to the sight than a seat on the settees here, watching the various changing lights on the magnificent snow clad peaks of these mountains. Life is too short ever to forget such scenes they haunt us in after life when less well situated and draw comparisons which do not increase happiness unless the mind and heart are fortified by faith + religion, to dwell on the expectation of more glorious scenes hereafter; for if such soothing splendid scenes are seen here on this little planet what may we not expect in the world of Light hereafter. “The eye hath not seen nor the ear heard. Nor can the mind comprehend the glories and scenes that await those who acknowledge Gods power and bow to his will”   After remaining ten days at Hotel de France we moved into hired apartments in the Rue Marea opposite the Park Gate the maison ademis, and hired man servant cook, scull, and two femmes de Chambre’s. December 1st – Engaged M. Montafrie for boys, and Madlle. Ferlate to instruct the girls -. The weather continued fine and warm all of this month, my wife at times able to walk in the Park with me, but evidently suffering. May God relieve me of my fears and state of suspense and encourage me to hope for her restoration. The 24th my mother in Law and brother in law and family joined us, having been detained in Paris during the Coup d’etat which took place the 1st of the month and gave us great anxiety on their account, and no small on our own. As it was reported that the populace of Taibes were marching upon Pau and the English + Americans met at the Library to consult what was best to be done, whether to retreat into Spain if it came to the worst or remain still.


We are delighted with Pau, the climate in December + January recalls our Indian Summer and the golden rays of the sun have been warmer than our month of June and we do not wonder that it is called the finest climate in the world. Jany 17th 1852 Left Pau with my brother Mali for an excursion into the mountains, visited Eauxbonnes, Eauxchairds and Gabeus [spell?]. The route from Pau is through the beautiful valley of the Neiss leaving the Village of Juraneon on the right, the road crosses the bridge over the Neiss and enters the valley of the D’Ossau, the first village is Gan. After which the valley begins to grow narrow and is said to resemble a Scottish Highland pass; at the village of Rebecca the road again crosses the river and begins to ascend the ridge which separates the valley of the Neiss from the valley of the D’Ossau again and become enclosed among the mountains which on either side hem in the Valley. Where Villages, Hamlets and solitary chapels are scattered among the sloped and shelves of the mountains at Laurens the road to Eauxbonnes and Eauxchands separate and Mali + myself pursued the road to Eauxbonnes where we passed the night at Maison Taverne. The road from Laurens has been a work of great labor and expense, scooped out of solid rock.

      Of the Village no traces are seen until close upon it and the road which we pass along becomes so labyrinthed amongst the surrounding and overhanging precipices and mountains that one doubts the existence of an habitable dwelling place, when turning a projecting shelve, the little basin, houses and baths are descried. On these mountains the Izard abound and the Bear is not unfrequently found the Chasseurs of the Valley of D’Ossau are justly considered amongst the most active and hardy in the mountains and retain their native simplicity of manners and honesty of character as we were told. Leaving Eauxbonnes Jan’y 18th Mali and myself retraced our steps to Laurens and branching off to the left took the magnificent pass of the Hourat to Eauxchands. We reminded of the possibility of our encountering the Spanish Contribandieus at this season of the year, some of whom are not particular as to their mode of living, and few strangers at this season think of penetrating into the Pyrennees. At Laurens the snow at this season is often very deep-however in our case we encountered neither snow or smugglers, to know them if they were, and after reaching Eauxchands, passing through the magnificent pass of the Hourat proceeded through the secluded valley to Gabas, the last habitation in France, at which place or cabaret we arrived at about Midday, and which is situation at the base of the Pic du Midi of D’Ossau, the most remarkable mountain of the range and this is one of the most frequented of the passes into Spain in the mild season, but at this season impassable even to mules, and in the descent is only twenty miles from Saragassa – There are many splendid ampitheatric views in this Valley, indeed from the Hourat to the Cas de Broussete it is a succession of almost unequalled scenery one of the finest is that which is seen from the entrance to the forest of Gabas. Mali + myself often partaking of some of the best Saragrossa wine our host could set before us, equal to any Champagne (I imagine I ever drank) with a Spanish Olla or Omlet started with guides to the base of the Pic du Midi and after surmounting many avalanches and becoming very much fatigued and saturated with snow water, the clouds collecting around us, we relinquished the attempt and very fortunately as our host informed us he had cautioned his guides not to take us farther than a quarter of a mile from his Cabaret. As the Avalanches were very dangerous at this season of the year, and we might have been precipitated many hundred feet into the ravines below. Augustin Boilon the Continbandier [spell?] our host was one of the finest looking men I ever laid my eyes on, drest in the Spanish costume, with the Pyrennean brown capote, his long black hair hanging in ringlets over his shoulders with a red sash around his waist with small cloathes and long gaiters tied with red ribbons encircling his legs he offered one of the most Picturesque figures with the cold mountain scenery around and the season of the year; that I ever witnessed in real life off the stage, and when he told Mali, that when the government Detectives were unwilling to go shares with them, they found  way of silencing them (drawing his hand acrost his throat) I felt a slight tremor crawl over me. He called to mind in person + dress the early paintings of the Italian Bandit by Eastlake late President of the Royal Academy, which I had seen during my residence in London in 1822,3,+4.   His chalet was equally as picturesque, it was of stone and we had to pass through a stable of mules and pigs to get into his room above, where we found a tree with its branches uncut before a fire place with the whole side above open to the Heavens upon this tree Mali + myself hung our clothes to dry while part of it was on fire. There was a better house near it for summer reception of travelers to lunch. Shut at this

time – He had the most splendid Spanish mule I ever laid my eyes on with all the trappings, colored morrow bridles, bells, Spanish saddle, all of which he showed us with pride after we admired his mule. He was complaining of dizziness in the head in the morning, loss of appetite +c. +c. I thought I saw his trouble and told Mali, who in joke told him I was a Doctor [above “Doctor” is written “Medicine”], he immediately held out his hand, and then put out his tongue. I told Mali to tell him if he would send down to auxbonnes I would leave him some medicine, our baggage being left to ease our ascent and I according left a large piece of Turkey Rhubarb which I always carried with me.

     In a visit I made with my children following summer he was gone to Saragossa but his sister drest like Fannie Ellsler in the Cachucha told my Courier who questioning her

that he had been very sick but had been cured by an English Doctor who came up there in January. The summer house was then opened as a place of lunch, there were no other houses or places of shelter. We arrived back at Pau on the 9th well satisfied to get amongst our friends again. February 6th Mali + myself and families rode thirteen miles to the little hamlet of Listelle situated on the Val. Lavedor to visit the pilgrimage church of Bithanem, near which is the old castle where Henry 4th was confided from his early years to the care of Susanna de Bourbon Baronne de Missans, and by the wisdom of his mother, brought up in the rough fashion of the peasantry of his native country dressed like them, fed like them sharing in their sports and traversing the rugged rocks with

bare feet, thus acquiring the vigor of body and strength of mind which enabled him in after life to surmount so many hardships, dangers and difficulties, the Castle is situated in the village of Coarvese and from its towers we had a most sublime view of the whole range f the Pyrennees, my dear wife although a great invalid entered into the enjoyment of this delightful peaceful scene and seemed to be herself again the weather reminded us of our Indian Summer the warm rays of the sun shining on the lofty Peaks of the Pyrennees, the cattle grazing as in summer and the peasantry all cheerful; altogether was full of romance and brought to our minds Mad. Ratcliffs description of the quiet scenes in Languidoc in the Mysteries of Udolpho which in fact is not more than a days journey from this (air measure).


                        The above was the last time but one my dear wife ever rode with me, how many sad retrospections the recalling of it brings back to me.


                        The 14th of this month we rode a short distance, from that time she gradually failed until the 6th of April, when she took final leave of us in this world. I trust for that Heavenly abode where we shall meet and never be severed again.


            Previous to leaving Pau for good May 8th I took my children an excursion to Eauxbonnes + Eauxchands + Gabas. I found continual change of scene and relief – to them as well as myself – to sit still in our rooms was dreadful, the recollection of my feelings and sorrows and responsibilities at that time (now going on sixteen years ago) creates a deep shadow over my mind. “God tempers the wind to the shorn” he does not desert us if we are true to ourselves. The 12th of May left Pau for Toulouse and dined, same evening rode all night and all next day, + arrived at Montpelier at nine in the evening and slept at Hotel Nevet. Arrived next day at Nismes + passed Sunday. Monday went to Arles in Railcars, saw the Coleseum, supposed to have been before the birth of Christ proceeded next day to the Pont du Gard and visited the celebrated Aquaduct slept at the Hotel de Post where the Diligence took us up next day at one o’clock. – (We passed four days at Nismes) and riding all night arrived next morning at Valance where we took the Steamer for Lyons, arriving same day at the Hotel d turniery. We passed through Montelimart in the night, but bought some of its candy, for which it is famous. Also Avignon in the night, we rested Sunday at Lyons, and took a Diligence to ourselves for Geneva at 8 in the evening of Monday and arrived at 2 o’clock next day at Hotel de la Courronne Geneva, and rested a day and took the steamer Leman for Hotel Byron, end of the Lake: net day the 28th. We remained at this Hotel until the 10th having my two youngest sons located on the 4th at Edward Sillig’s School in Vevay we received great pleasure in the quiet rural beauty and retirement of this place and the society of a few English Officers and their wives Col. Montplacer and the Hon. Maj. Bruce very quiet and agreeable society; there were also a Col. + Mrs. Harris she a daughter of the late Commodore Porter – and he since a rebel general in the Rebellion in Missouri, kind hearted, but not much accustomed to society he a graduate of West Point. From the Hotel I moved to Chateau de Vevay; next to Monnet’s large Hotel in Vevay, here we had very nice apartments and were by ourselves, and near the boys school.    July 9th My boys having a vacation of three weeks. I left Vevay at 4 o’clock in the afternoon with them taking Louis our Courier with us and in Mons Michaud’s carriage driven by himself, went as far as Montreaux where we hired mules and went up the mountains as far as the Chalets d Avents where we had a good supper, and comfortable beds, and the flavor of the fresh hay being in the centre of fine pasturage land with the mountain air was very refreshing. The next morning having passed the night in this invigorating position our guides and mules becoming rested after a delicious breakfast of new made butter fresh cream, cream cheese, honey and excellent coffee. We started at 9 o’clock to ascend the Dent de Jaman on top of which we remained from half past ten until 12 o’clock – some of the time enveloped in clouds after descending we dined at the Chalet and in the afternoon returned to Montreux and taking a boat at the Hotel de cygnet were rowed home to Vevay well tired.


            These short respites from looking back upon the past are but momentary for there is no solace for the loss of those in whom our dearest affections have been placed the grave acknowledges not remorse, and the hearts desolation is never perfect until it has felt the echoes of a last farewell on earth. “Look not mournfully into the past it comes not back again, wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart.”


“Clear placed Leman! They contracted Lake,

With the wide world I well in is a thing,

That warms me by its stillness to forsake

Earth’s troubled waters for a purer Spring.”


We passed the remainder of the summer quietly at Chateau de Vevay, making short excursions acrost the Lake in an English boat with awning that I purchased, the boys and Louis rowing, visiting St. Gingolf Zockers de Meilleries where Lord Byron was near being wrecked and Bovered all in Savoy, on the Sardinian side of the Lake now belonging to the French.


      Having made arrangements to pass the winter in Monnet’s Hotel Trois Couronny and my lease of rooms in Chateau de Vevay expiring Sept. 1st and a month before I could take possession of my other rooms in the Hotel I concluded to pass it in travelling with my daughters and eldest son and accordingly transferring my trunks, baggage +c. +c.  to the care of Mond Monnet, We left Vevay Sept 9th accompanied by our courier and my daughters maid Louise, with portmanteau and travelling bags that we could pack upon mules for Geneva, were remaining one day at the Hotel de Couronne Bersoth master + cook ntting [spell?] superintendant I engaged a Vorturier to take us next day to St Martins, Friday 10th Left and dined at Bonneville and arrived at St Martins quite late having stopt to look at the highest waterfall in Savoy the Nant d’Apenaz. We stopt at Veuve Tribillong’s house a most obliging hostess, the Hotel Mont Blanc. We here engaged two Char-a-banes to take us to Chamouni, where we arrived to dine and witness the sun shining on Mont Blanc for the first time (they said) for a fortnight. There was a universal rush to the doors and windows and street and behold the mountain was  in a blaze of glory brilliantly illuminated by the setting sun. Our host Ferdinand Eisenkramar – Proprietor of the Hotel del Union told me that he ascended Mont Blanc in 1838 with a French lady; he foretold a change of weather and cautioned me not to cross the Col de Balme which I had intended to have done and had I have been alone, should have done, as the view from thence is said to surpass all others in that region. His advice as regarded the weather, I considered of great importance, having sent all of baggage from Vevay to Them to await us. And I found myself cut off from it by the Mountains which had to be passed or I should have to retrace all my steps back the way I had come. I consequently ordered mules with guides to cross the Tete de Noir the next day to Martigney in the Valley before the storm should reach us. Seven mules in all – one for baggage to be ready at 10 o’ck next morning. In the meantime after my children had retired to rest I went out and crossed the bridge to have a look at Mont Blanc by starlight, whilst leaning upon a fence on a rising ground supposing myself to be alone, I observed two figures, approaching me who had come out at this hour for the same gratification I had. After some questions I found they were Americans like myself and but just arrived in Europe. A Mr Seelye and a Mr Clarke on their way to a German institution, having lately graduated. They having but lately been to the White Mountains in New Hampshire were not prepared to be so much astonished with Mt. Blanc foreshortened as it was (we being directly under it) as I was, who had seen it so often forty miles distant when steaming on lake Leman, where of a fair day, it is said, that its reflection has been seen in the water. These gentlemen received from me one of my extra guide Books and we separated mutually gratified by the meeting, since then I have seen the name of one of them mentioned in the papers as distinguished for scholarship. Thanking my honest host Eisenkramer for his advice to go away, so contravening to his own interests, for we were seven in all, we left his house on mules at the hour appointed and lunching at the summit of the Tete de Noir descended by the descent of the Forelaz to a late dinner at Martigny in the Valley of the Rhone without accident during on e of the most serene, clear, heavenly days I ever recollect, with great enjoyment of the views on both sides of the Mounts and sure enough ere September was many days older, one of the severest storms and freshets took place at Chamounix (with Avalanches carrying away the bridge, houses + cattle) that had been known for years, of which we heard before our return to Vevay and which rendered not only the Col de Balme but the Tete de Noir impassable for more than a year after. Martigny is situated on the Simplon road and at the foot of the chai – road to St. Bernard the scenery around it is grand, surrounded by mountains amongst which the Dent de Morcles rises 2650 yards above the town, the ruins of the castle of la Balic is seen, of the Archbishops of Sion their stronghold – We here hired a Voituriet to take us to the Baths of Locche, and we left the Hotel de Cygne at ten oclock and proceeded to Sion where we climbed to the ruins of the old castle formerly the Bishops residence Castle Torbillion was built in 1492 the views of the mountains and valley from its height, were magnificent, the hospital under the care of the sisters Seurs de Charite contained many victims of goiter + cretinism with which this valley abounds, returning from our stroll we had a very good dinner at the Lion d’or and then proceeded to Leuk. I had intended stopping here for the night as the sun was just declining and we were tired by our long journey down the Forclay and mounting to the Bishops Castle but we found the accommodations so dirty and with no appearance of having been occupied for a long time, cold and damp, I was afraid to stop consulting with my children. I found they had imbibed my feelings. Finding at this late hour another Voiturier ready to take us on to the Baths of Loueale [spell?], changing our baggage we started again on our ascent, the views of the Vallais becoming more and more magnificent the higher we ascended, causing us to regret the departure of twilight, in an hour from starting we came to a magnificent bridge built of stone crossing the Dala the scenery around increasing in majesty of rock and mountain, after a time we came to the Village of Inden. The above bridge is 308 feet in length and 20 feet in breadth and 160 feet in height we stopped, only to water our horses and then proceed on; after riding in the dark sometime we finally came in view of the village of Laeche. Embedded in the mountains, a thick mist and lights shining through it, with the chilly mountain air together with the knowledge that we were upon a level with the clouds. Altogether – created indescribable feelings to which I had never before had been accustomed – Approaching, towns, cities or any place after dark however familiar by daylight, seems so entirely to derange all our ideas of locality more particularly when solitary lights here and there far between – catching your eye and straining it creates a greater darkness in every other place and bewilders you more and more, so it was now after having been ascending all of the afternoon and evening, riding the latter part in a thick mist, we all at once saw lights appearing under our horses feet and were told by the driver that it was our post of rest, it was nevertheless three quarters of an hour before we were able to distinguish objects or the outlines of the houses and then suddenly we pulled up with whipping + lashing before the Hotel des Alpes.


The Pass of the Gernmi.

                        After resting one night we started the next morning with six mules + four guides and one extra baggage mule and when getting on to the saddle, a mountaineer came forward and asked to be permitted to join our party, giving his name as Jean Wandfluh, premier guide demeurant a Frutegen canton Bern, on his return home to which I willingly assented, and although not paid our party received more assistance from him than all the other four particularly in the difficult places where we met cattle descending. In the vicinity of the Baths there is a mountain with a precipice, on the top of which there is a village called Albineu and the only way the inhabitants can communicate with the Baths is by ladders. It would hardly do for any one with weak nerves to attempt going up and down, and yet – men, women + children ascend and descend on the these ladders with very heavy loads, the use of these ladders rendered indispensable from the nature of the sides of the valley being hemmed in by precipices on all sides has given rise to a singular modification of dress being of the Bloomer cut – we left the Hotel at 10 o’clock it being the Fall of the year, we were several times brought to a perfect stand still by herds of cattle and sheep descending, the mountaineers always driving them down to winter on the plains at this season. Had I have known this I certainly should have avoided this Pass for we run great hazards of being crowded off the pass, in more than one instance, particularly once when my daughter Alice’s mule was obliged to halt within two feet of a precipice thousand of feet high, unprotected by anything to prevent the slightest touch from casting it over, during which time the cattle driving by it inside, fierce and wild, and the sheep running between its legs conveyed to me (in a line below unable to leave my mule and reach her in time) sensation of alarm that I shall not soon forget. At this time Jean Wandfluh stept forward and held her mule until all danger was over. We were at this time above the clouds which were in many places far below us and occasionally the sun shining upon them and reflecting upon the dark somber crags of the mountain precipices, everything appeared to swim beneath us.          We dined at

a chalet on the summit, and after going a short distance alighting from our mules we walked for at least half an hour on the borders of a large Lake, enveloped in a thick mist preventing us from scanning the length and breadth, dreary was the appearance, and the atmosphere quite chilly, although the labor of the ascent prevented us from suffering much, we felt very hungry, which sensation never left us while on the mountain. Leaving the Lake we travelled a short distance over rocks and precipices sometimes in a path and sometimes losing it but following in the wake of the mules who loose ahead were sure to go right; the descent to myself and I expect to the mules was more fatiguing than the ascent, having heavy burdens upon their backs. We found ourselves necessitated in several places to alight through fear of going over their heads, the strain upon the thighs when riding, and knee joints when walking in descending steep mountain for hours together is very painful and more laborious to the advanced in life, than climbing when you can stop to take breath and are not liable to missteps. We went to Frutegen to dine and sleep. Wednesday – we took a voiture for Thun where we arrived at the hotel Belleme situated out of the town in a beautiful garden where we remained two nights and on the 17th September took a Voiture for Interlachen, the road on the borders of the Lake all the way a most delightful ride. We went to a private house kept by a most excellent Christian, by name Pierre Ober, situated out of the town and directly under the Jungfrau, The 19th Sept. Sunday we attended church and heard an excellent extemporaneous sermon by the Rev. Mourant Brooke of Bath England who was residing at the same house with us and was a most agreeable companion. Wednesday – he Arthur and myself took a long walk together r- the 21st we heard of the Duke of Wellingtons death, and on the 23rd my mother in law + brother in law and wife joined us from Paris in the morning and in the afternoon we started for Lauterbrunner and Grindelweld all together and saw the Stanbuck Fall of (900) nine hundred feet which is very beautiful, but after seeing Niagara so often, failed in exiting my feelings, from thence we proceeded to Grindelweld, where at six in the evening we dined and retired early, after breakfast next morning we took horses, and mules + arm chairs and proceeded to the glaciers with an old man between seventy + eighty who had been a guide here for fifty years what a series of adventures he must have been a participator in during that long period, not counting those he must have heard of, in this land of romance during so long a Pilgrimage, he narrated to us, the loss in one of the crevices of the glacier of the clergyman from Vevay in 1821 a Mon. Morrow who leaning over the crevice his cane snapt, and he was pitched head foremost down the crevice said to have been 700 feet deep. An avalanche took place from the Faulkhorn three or four days before our visit, and we heard the thunder of it at Interlachen – Mr Ober mentioning the distant crash and rumbling noise at that time as an avalanche and now we beheld the effects and had it corroborated by the guides attending us. After walking some distance upon the glacier we returned to the Hotel del Aigle and

after dinner returned to Interlachen to tea, it being all down hill, well pleased, but greatly tired. Friday 25 Sept. Mali + family left us in the morning to meet us again at the Lake of Lucerne – and at 11 o’clock bidding good bye to our excellent host Pierre Ober we took the little steamer for Brienz the lake is eight miles long, intending to make the pass of Brunnig before night, we did not stop to see the Greesbach, after dining at Brienz, we hired horses for the Village of Lungem making the pass of the Brunnig by daylight. We left Brienz at 2 o’clock mounted on horses with our baggage attached each to his own horse and very strong large docile horses they were, sure footed and easy we made first to Meyrengen eight miles and then turned off, leaving it on our right and commencing the ascent of the Bruing advancing still nearer to Meyrengen on the Mountain Pass having left the Valley until we were directly over it, from this point the view was enchanting embracing the whole extent of the Brienz Lake and the vale of Hasli with its chief Village Meyrengen lying on the right bank of the Aar – containing about 800 inhabitants with two beautiful waterfalls on the opposite Mountain between Brienz and Meyrengen. A dreadful discovery in some way connected with this village had been made the past month, before our passage the outline only of which I can give. The host of the Auberge on the Grimsel, Zippach by name, was descending the pass of the Grimsel (which is one of six which concentrate at Meyrengen, namely – one to Lucerns, one to Bruing, one to Brienz, one to St. Gothard, one to Grindleweld, one to Engelberg by the Jock Pass) with another neighboring mountaineer August 6th 1852. When entering and near Meyrengen he suddenly turning around exclaimed – what is that bright light in the Heavens in direction of the mountain path we have just passed, and then quickly exclaimed it must be my Auberge on fire; it being late he and his companion remained that night at Meyrengen and early next morn. retraced their steps to the grimsel where sure enough they found the Auberge leveled with the ground but in the meanwhile the inhabitants and guides of the neighboring valleys had discovered three large boxes of silver – hid in the crevices of the mountain and quantities of furniture concealed under the Hay, which excited strong suspicion but Zippach the Aubergiste’s character had stood so high and he was so universally respected (and they even said beloved) by the mountaineers + neighboring villagers that no one felt inclined to suspect him. It has however been discovered since that he has been the captain of a band of Brigands of five in number and that many robberies have been committed amongst the Alps in this quarter, which the most distant suspicion never attached to his agency, it has also been ascertained that he insured his house and furniture very lately at Berne for nearly three times its value = my Host and friend Gabriel Mennet at Vevay upon my arrival at his hotel at Vevay – and communicating the above news to him, begged me not to say much about it, for it would prevent travelling in Switzerland; he then said – that what I had told brought back to his memory the mystery attached to the disappearance of two brothers young men from Bordeaux who left his hotel fifteen months previous upon an excursion to the Grimsel and had never been heard of since, they left Brieg at the bottom of the Simplon to which place he had traced them, their father and mother arriving at his hotel in search of them. A German professor at Frankfort had also disappeared lately amongst these mountains all of which was attributed to the same source. At sundown we made our descent into the valley of Samen containing the Lake of Lungern and stopt at the Lion d’or a poor house and Saturday morning 26 September, taking a Voiture we arrived after a pleasant ride at Alpmach at the Lake of Lucerne where taking two crazy looking flat bottomed skiffs we were rowed in two and a half hours by four women to the Hotel. Schwitzernkof tener per Segesser frères, the Malis + Mrs. W__ joined us in evening. Miss C. Scollay and Miss A. Joy. Mr Williams + daughters + Mr B. C. Ward + daughters we found at the house.


            The traveler who contents himself with viewing the mountains from the valleys cannot feel and comprehend the majesty of Swiss Scenery, he must leave the Valleys and go into the mountains – fatigue, cold, storms, glaciers, precipices and the thunder of the cataract + avalanche will open to him a world of knowledge which would have been otherwise forever closed. The dawn of day on Brienz Lake must be beautiful, the ascent of the Brunig and the look back upon the little Hamlet and the Lake of Brienz from the summit was transcendentally so and occasioned me to loiter behind the cavalcade to dwell upon the luxury of the scene; and take a last look upon a scene I could hardly draw myself away from. Sunday after going to the English Chapel I took the mail and after riding all night arrived the next morning at Basle on the Rhine sixty miles; where finding the American Consul I signed in his presence a deed, and mailed the same to Barings + Co for Boston, after which I visited the Cathedral and the boy who attended me being hungry and finding me very slow in my movements after showing me the way to the Tower and Belfry, slipt out and locked me in and went home to his evening meal . I remained in the Belfry nearly an hour looking upon the Black Forrest and up and down the Rhine + upon the Storks upon the top of the houses, and in the room below the pictures of the dance of death by Holbein, a very singular series in this old Cathedral, finally coming down and finding myself locked in as I had once before been in the Rouen Cathedral. I began to realize my position, and sitting down fell into a series of reflections – surrounded by so many effegies, and Mausoleums of the dead of past ages,, the rays of the setting sun striking in through the stained glass and throwing some of the dark stone pillars + mausoleums into the deepest shade. I was suddenly aroused from my reveries by something moving in the adjoining cloisters, which was followed by the grating of a lock and the entrance of elderly looking man who seemed as much astonished as I was at being locked in; letting me out I arrived just as the evening mail was starting for Lucerne + having had no sleep for twenty four hours and been on my legs all day I soon fell into forgetfulness of things around, dozed until I arrived at breakfast next morning but what rendered this imprisonment most unfortunate for me was, that while I was locked up, my own brother and sister passed through Basile, alighting and dining at the Hotel I stopt at and then passing on all of which I heard some months after. The 28th Sept. Mali and our friends left us for Basle + Paris, and on the 30th we went in the Steamer to Huelen, passing Tell’s Chapel + +


October the 1st we left Lucern for Berne where we arrived at 6 o’clock, the scenery very beautiful all of the way, we let Berne Oct 3rd. Frieburgh, the bridge one of the finest in the world. Length 941 feet Elevation 180 ft. Breadth 22. Supporting on 4 cables of iron wire, each containing 1056 wires, the cables enter the ground, each side obliquely and are carried at some distance down, vertical shafts cut in the rock and fitted with masonry being attached at the extremity, to enormous blocks of stone.            The Organ built by a native of this town Alors Maser is one of the finest instruments in Europe stopping two days at the Hotel Zukringer Hoff we went twice to hear the organ played, each time after twilight, and seated in the center of the church amongst the stone pillars, no light but in the loft, all around gloomy and somber, all at once it burst upon us with terrific grandeur, and then did away into the most soft and enchanting melody, imitating a storm, howling of the wind, flashes of lightning and thunder.


Hon. Henry Walpole.

    (1878 now or since Earl of Oxford)  Amongst the many agreeable acquaintances I have made in this romantic spot (Vevay) the above gentleman has elicited my deepest interest and sympathy. Second son of the third Earl of Oxford he was so unfortunate as to lose his sight by fever when quite a child, his eyelids are closed entirely so that there is no disfiguration or anything disagreeable in his appearance his manners are cheerful and he appears happy, he occupied with his wife (for strange as it may appear, he is married) a small house in the garden of the chateau Vevay. When we occupied the Chateau the summer of 1852 and where I made his acquaintance while smoking my evening cigar sitting on the same bench with him overlooking the Lake, he was a most agreeable companion and although not seeing he spoke warmly of the delightful situation of Vevay, appeared animated and well informed, and in no instance except when looking at him, could you believe him to be totally blind as is his case, he appeared to be acquainted with everybody by name as well as situation, particularly his own countrymen, he was a constant attendant at Church and his language was that of a devoted Christian. I have watched him upon the Lake, with his hat and coat off, rowing his wife and another lady, many evenings during he summer, and sometimes when I have felt deeply anxious for him the waves being high and the steamboat running near – but I ought to have reflected that the Almighty hand that afflicted him with loss of sight, can and will protect him. O! what will be his ecstasy after such darkness, when the glories of Heaven are revealed to his sight, when there will be no more darkness. He was born in 1818.


We remained at Monnets Hotel from October 6th until following May 25th 1853. having several very agreeable fellow boarders viz a Prussian Baron De Kraut, a Mon’s + Madam De Neh. Russian a Mon’s A. Peterson – Russian +c. +c. Also an English gentleman Mr. Ormsly Gore + wife + Miss Hay the latter of Dun’s Castle Scotland near Abbotsford. Mr. Gore gentleman in waiting on the Queen. Mrs Gore a daughter of Sir John Tirrell B. + M. P. The latter English party we became very intimate with and whilst Mr Gore and myself passed some part of the day in walking, the ladies with their work and music met in our private parlor with my daughters, they left us before the cold weather. Miss Hay was an accomplished musician having been a pupil of Garcia’s, father of Malibran. The Winter passed with little to record, excepting two months confinement to my room brought on by depression of spirits + bodily complaints, and for which finding little assistance from Physicians, I finally (I am now convinced) very imprudently, with the assistance of Mr Monnets servants went through a course of Hydropathy – taking the cold wet shut daily, and after being well rubbed, walking thru miles daily towards the Castle of Chillon sometimes to it, doing this, sine or rain for three weeks. It brought out large furoncles on my body and cured me and but a short time after when at table Mr Monnet put his hand on my shoulder and asked to introduce me to the gentleman sitting next to me to whom he had been speaking of my experience Hydropathy; as regarded my disease and general health before my application, I explained to him, to which he replied that his own troubles + disease were in every respect the same and his application the same with the only difference, he had been under a regular establishment with approved Physicians – and here I am he exclaimed! (leaning down and taking two crutches from under the table) paralyzed for life. It brought to my recollection that once or twice when being rubbed after lying an hour in the cold sheet I had sensations of numbness I could not account for, and nothing short of bringing the blood by rubbing seemed to relieve me. My escape I consider providential. ----------------


Sunday Jan’y 9th Being still weak I had not been to church, my family had all gone, requiring some fresh water I rang my parlor bell several times unnoticed, I went into the entry and seeing no one I proceeded down stairs and found to all appearance the house empty, greatly astonished I retraced my steps; when passing the first flight I observed the scull with his white cap, looking out of one of the doors in the rooms under mine, approaching him I found the room full of servants and the adjoining room door open, I entered and there I beheld extended upon her bed Lady Augusta Baring in the last pangs of death, with two nurses supporting her head, surrounded by the servants of the house, her daughter was at church, and all the boarders + Monnets family, I was greatly shocked, before I left the room, she had drawn her last breath. I had observed her but shortly before walking on the Terrace, exceedingly beautiful in face and figure, she lived exclusively retired by herself never coming down stairs to the parlors. Her history I was told was singularly melancholy, the sixth daughter of the Earl of Cardigan – she married 1827 Henry Bingham Baring contrary to her fathers + friends wishes + who as report goes, made a bet with the associates of a club he would marry her, after which they lived unhappily together, she had several sons and a two daughters at school.           Dr. Curchad her physician had been attending me and followed me up into my room a few minutes after and told me he was greatly surprised and shocked for he had left her but a couple of hours before just having finished her breakfast. She had been drinking very strong coffee he observed, which he had prohibited but he never thought her in any danger . . . – I read in the papers the next year of the marriage in Paris Feb’y 18th 1854 of Henry Baring M. P. to Madam Marie de Martinoff.


                        January 11th 1853 I received the melancholy news of the death of my friend and groomsman Horatio Greenough the Sculptor, so soon after my great loss, as though all who were with me at the time of my marriage were destined to leave me.

                        After passing the winter at the Hotel Trois Courrennes personally sick most of the time, my physician recommended a journey into Northern Italy in the spring and with the expectation the change of climate would reinstate me, consequently I hired a Vetturine Carriage + four horses to put me down at Milan and taking my two daughters and eldest son, my daughters maid and a courier. I left the Hotel Monnet May 25th and slept first night at Bex – second night at Brieg foot of the Simplon which we crossed the next day the 28th of May and slept that night at Domo’d Ossola from thence via Lakes Como and Maggiore + Milan – which city was completely under the harrow of the Austrian rule having forty thousand Austrian troops parading her streets under Raditzky, at Verona; we took the rails to Venice, where we remained a week seeing sights, paintings +c. +c. being weak and much depressed by recalling the former visit to this city we shortened our visit, giving up our intention of going to Vienna and Dresden as we had proposed; and retraced our steps towards home leisurely, which course I had afterwards great reason to be satisfied with when hearing that the cholera was at Dresden. Tissot our courier pointed out to us Lord Byrons residence in Venice when he was in his service. At Verona upon our return we met with the Rev. Henry T. Tappan wife and daughter of New York who joined our party. Tissot engaging a carriage for them; we stopped at the Lakes upon our return and I think found the crossing of the Simplon more picturesque going back than the descent into Italy. We passed two of three days at the Hotel Byron and then finding Monnet’s full took rooms at the Trois Rois in the Marchi for a few days. The duplicity of the Priests of Italy has arrested my attention whenever I have been in that Country but never so conspicuously at Verona where when entering our car we found already seated a Priest a young man apparently not more than thirty – with old fashioned cocked hat, small clothes, large knee and shoe buckles a facsimile of the pictures we see of Sterne he was reading a small book the whole way to Venice never taking his eyes off. A night or two after our arrival we were promenading up and down upon the grand square of St. Mark, the square lighted with variegated lamps + enlivened by a band of music and the elite of Venice, when the Priest passed us drest in the highest style of fashion; blue coat, hat + eye glass.


Mark Tissot   our Courier

    [unintelligible letters]                          Was born in the town of St. Cergues near the celebrated mountain in the chain of the Jura’s called the Dole three hours ascent from Vyon on the Lake of Geneva. He entered Lord Byrons service in 1816 and accompanied him to Venice after being with him some time at Deodati on the Lake Leman – accompanying me with my family acrost the Simplon to Venice in the Spring of 1853 he told me much of Lord Byron and his mode of life, pointed out his Palace at Venice and his resorts: according to Tissot he possessed some good qualities but not that of being kind to his domestics, treating Fletcher his oldest and who had been with him from his youth, with the greatest indignity.


            Tissot since had been in the service of both Edward Lytton Bulwer and his brother Sir Henry Bulwer both of whom he viewed as men of little moral character and possessed of few domestic virtues. Tissot is a man between sixty + seventy and is spoken of with respect by Monnet + the inhabitants of Vevay where he has an English wife and daughter; he was in easy circumstances and only now and then follows his old employment for change of scene and was engaged for me for three weeks only by Mr Monnet I having just recovered from a fit of sickness I found him more like a friend than servant and treated him as such.


            Previous to going into Italy in May I was accosted one morning while eating my breakfast at Monnets by an English gentleman, if I knew of any Villa’s to be let. As I had just returned from my mornings walk, having passed a number, I replied, if he would accompany me the next morning I would point out several, which he did but was not satisfied with any of them, finally I suggested to him an old Chateau on the border of the Lake very romantic in its position which I myself would delight to reside in, and which at his request I carried him and his wife to see, it pleased them very much but upon my telling them that the last occupant had been a Prince of Prussia, they laughed at the idea of their being able to hire it, remarking if I would take half of it, perhaps they might; having a Vetturino waiting to take me and my family acrost the Alps and with the expectation of making Dresden my head quarters I of course could not hearken to it. However I suggested to them, that I would interest Monnet in procuring it for them and they would probably find some one else to help fill it, for all of which they thanked me, and Monnet applied to the owner Rigand formerly Syndex of Geneva, who demurred to the gentleman’s responsibility, he unfortunately bearing the same name as a former occupant who (although an English Clergyman) after incurring large debts had absconded without paying his rent I told Mr Monnet I thought there could be no risk in the present instance and when I returned the latter end of June I found the gentleman and his wife + two little boys installed in the old chateau.                        My daughters desiring to go to a boarding school where they could have the advantages of the foreign languages being only spoken, and my eldest son also wishing to acquire equal advantages, all let me; and then in preference to the ever changing inhabitants of a Hotel or a Boarding house I took advantage of the English gentleman’s proposal to me and went to the Chateau De la Tour July 19th 1853. Paying him such an amount as would meet his first proposal, in board, supplying myself with wine + other articles and relieving my mind from any responsibility I might be supposed to incur on his account with Monnet should the payment of rent be delayed. After a few weeks the left wing of the Chateau was at my disposal + occasionally my daughters visited and passed some days with me. My son from Geneva also made my flying visits, my youngest sons school was also near by within sight.


The Cheateau de la Tour-de-Peitz was built in 1239 by Pierre – Duke of Savoy – contains many pieces of antique armor and trophies saved from the Battle of Sempach and Morat.

­­­­­­­­­­­­                                                                        See end of book.

            The old Chateau de la Pierre or Peitz which stands conspicuous extending into the Lake of Geneva at Vevay was built in 1239 by La petit Charlemagne Pierre of Savoy who mingled the blood of the Courts of Savoy with all the reining houses of Christendom. His sister Beatrix although only a simple countess of Provence married her four beautiful daughters to the principle European Monarchs of that Epoch One Sanchie was an Empress, another Eleanor the Queen of Henry 3rd of England, Marguerite became the wife of the saintly Louis 9th and Beatrix the wife of his brother the warlike Charles of Anjou. The Chateau and the little village attached was built + fortified by Pierre of Savoy at the time when he stood at the zenith of his power after he had received the homage of the Lords of Eastern Helvetia and the seigueners of Berne and Morat and had taken his fathers place as Duke of Savoy. The little village of Peitz has still the remains of old walls and fasse which forms a northern boundary to it. Pierre also built the Tour at Martigny to protect himself at the pass of the great St. Bernard and the one at Evian to control the southern shore of the Lake and on the ruins of Count Wala’s prison (Zillium) castle of Chillon so celebrated by the English poet.


            November 2nd 1853. The day being very fine Mr S. and myself started with our knapsacks and ascended the Pleiades the mountain behind the castle of Blouay, in three hours walking, we reached the summit at half past two and were well rewarded by a most extensive view takin gin a long range of Alps including Mount Blanc on the one side and the Lake of Newchatel on the other and Mountains as far as the eye could reach, we descended at sunset at a late dinner having walked over nineteen miles.


Rev. Edward Barlee

Rector of Worlingworth cum Southolt

County of Suffolk, England

died Sept 6th, 1853. Aged 65.

at Vevay.



            Arriving with my family at Vevay after our tour into Northern Italy visiting Milan, Venice and the Lakes Como + Maggorie I found upon going back to my old seat in the English Church a new minister in the place of my old acquaintance the Rev. Mr. Cleves, who had left for Palermo. I found the new incumbent an exceedingly pleasant and agreeable companion and for so short an acquaintance I find it difficult to express how deeply the influence of his character operated upon me and created a sympathy and friendship which alas was so short lived. I found in him a companion and friend, a true warm hearted Christian without bigotry or fanaticism, possessed of a strong powerful clear pronunciation, I was enabled to hear him distinctly and I anticipated much from his religious instruction the following winter, with a great fondness and discrimination for the beauties of scenery he combined the pathos and feelings of a Poet, and after his decease I copied from a small manuscript loaned me by his family, the following effusions of his muse, written as he states, after his walks with me, they exhibit great feeling if not true poetry.


There is a tear which dims the sight,

A tear of sacred pure delight,

Which flows without alloy;

A tear that sparkles as it falls,

And from the heart no sorrow calls

It is the tear of joy.


It is not born of heartfelt woe,

It wrings no breast with laboured throe,

     It tells no tale of strife.

But bursts at once its secret cell

Half smothered with a smile to tell,

     Its joyous course of life.


Tho’ sharpest pangs its throbs command,

The antidote is near at hand,

     The glad reverse to prove.

So sense of sin will give no rest

Till faith which stills the troubled breast

     Shows Christ – a God of love.



Thoughts at Hauteville


Who would climb you vine clad mountains

Covered with eternal snow?

Who would leave those sunny fountains

Murmuring sweetly as they flow?



Who would toil for further pleasure

Whilst on earth such scenes are given?

Who would seek a richer treasure

Thro rugged paths, tho nearer Heaven?



Pause one moment, look more clearly,

Insect – on the suns warm beam;

On the joys you prize so dearly

Aught but fancy’s fleeting dream.



Life uncertain – pleasures fleeting,

Summer short and joys impure,

Seasons changing winter threatening,

Clouded bliss that will not dure.



Know beyond those cloud clad Mountains

Thro’ the wreaths of deaths cold snow,

Sparkling bright are God’s own fountains,

Peaceful streams that ever flow.



Toil and labor – tho-laborious

For a space – how brief!! – be thine,

O’er the hills of life victorious,

You in Heaven – how bright!! – shall shine.



He thy Saviour stands inviting

Come then heavy laden come,

Climb – oh climb, with faith untiring

Welcome to thy fathers home.



Life eternal, ceaseless pleasure.

Summer joys that never end.

Come partake the Heavenly treasure,

With they God, thy Saviour friend.



            A few days after my first acquaintance with him he called upon me and upon my returning his call after the usual civilities, and upon my rising to take leave, he gave me a strong invitation to reside with him the coming winter, offering me with the greatest kindness, the choice of any of the apartments in his house, and prefacing the invitation by saying that being fond of chess, as he had heard that I was, we could play chess together during the winter evenings; deeply as I felt his kindness, and the advantages I might derive therefrom, yet as I had made my arrangements to go to the Chateau de la Tour I did not feel authorized to accept his kind offer.


     Very shortly after this he was struck with paralysis, but so tightly, that his Physician told me with great confidence that he would be in his pulpit again very shortly. A few days after I met him getting into a Voiture at his door to go to the Baths of Allairs, on the Mountains, he warmly shook my hand and asked me to come and see him Alas! It was the last time I ever saw him, he was brought down on a litter by eight men after a second shock; and never had his speech or his senses again. Upon my return from Berne where I had been to see my friend, our minister Mr Fay I found his place vacant + his tombstone in the cemetery.


November 16th 1853 I accompanied the two daughters of my late above friend, at their earnest request to the baths of Allais on the mountains situated between the Pleiades and Mount Folly, they had just arrived at Vevay and were desirous of seeing the place where their father received his last summons. Mr. S. of the Chateau agreed to accompany us which was pleasant to me, who intended walking aside of their conveyance. We left the Coette at 9 oclock. Mr. S. and my self with our knapsacks and mountain spikes and the ladies in a Voiture as far as the Castle of Bloney near the foot of the Pleiades. We found the Baths closed for the season and everything on the mountain top looking tieste + Winterish we were about nine miles from Vevay + some five or six from Bloney by the zig zag path on the mountain side, after lunching from the proceeds of our knapsacks, we descended, at the wishes of the ladies, by a mountain path to the Chalet De Avents, and thence to Montrean Clarens to Vevay. Mr S. + myself having walked according to the mountaineers not less than twenty five miles. It is astonishing how little fatigue is felt when the scenery engrosses the attention the clearness of the atmosphere and the relief of the mountains of a grayish tone against a pure blue sky, renders the winter scenery nearly, if not quite as attractive as the summer. The Lake as seen from the mountain top of the darkest Indigo blue lies as placid and as calm as in the latter season, and Mont Blanc + others appear near by. 


A Narrow Escape.


     The first summer of our residence at Vevay I purchased a boat to hold seven to ten persons, with an awning with which we made frequent excursions on the Lake, and often across the Lake to Boveret. St. Gingolf and the Rocheres de Meillerie in Savoy, taking our provisions for a  Picnic in the mountains and returning at the close of the day, the distance from shore to shore was about seven miles and took us from one and a half to two hours, the distance to Castle of Chillon and Hotel Byron was about the same. One splendid day in the summer of 1853, my children having a vacation we made preparations for passing the day at the Hotel Byron, the awning was fastened in the Boat, and my two daughters, three sons and myself accompanied by my man servant Louis and my daughters femme de chamber Louise took our places and we rowed to the Hotel Byron where we were received with great kindness by some of our old fellow boarders still there, the afternoon continued fine and there being a full moon we were persuaded to remain until after tea, between the hours of nine + ten we were accompanied down to the beach by some of our female friends the reflections of the moon on the Lake and upon the Turrits of the Castle of Chillon in this land of romance presented a scene to he felt but not descried. We succeeded in reaching a mile or more, when we felt the wind blowing up the Lake in opposition to our course and suddenly the moon was obscured by a dark cloud rising over the Mount d’Avel directly over our heads in the short time of ten minutes, we were tossed by the waves, our awning shaken by the wind and our oars nearly useless and the rain came down in floods, turning the tiller at right angles to direct the boat to the nearest port, I run her on the beach under the Hotel du Cygne near Vernex

we were all as wet as though we had been overboard, we made a rapid ascent to the Hotel, had fires made, hot coffee prepared, procured a Voiture from Montreaux and reached home between eleven + twelve. I directed the Landlord of the Hotel to bring my boat around the next morning, at which time with great wonderment in his face he made his appearance, asking me if I knew its condition – turning it bottom upwards and striking it with his hand he made a large hole in the bottom showing it was all rotten like a piece of cork or sponge, and had we, when struck by gale in our struggle to get down the awning have tipt up one of the  foot cross boarding our feet would have gone instantly through the bottom and we never should have been seen or heard of more, as one of the peculiar features of this Lake is, that no bodies are ever recovered from it. It is nine hundred feet deep off Chillon where we took the Gale. Mr Monnets boatman at Monnet’s order, bought this boat for me as one of the safest on the Lake, and so it was as regarded breadth of beam + sides. The winter 1853 was passed at the Chateau de la Tour very quietly, and more pleasantly to me from its solitude, than the previous one at Monnet’s Hotel, where I suffered from ill health; the weather also, was more soft and bland than 52 and I saw my daughters on Sunday always, they dining with me, and often on week days also, and my two youngest sons were located not far from me on the Lake.


     During the winter my neighbors on the left wing of the chateau would sometimes ask me to play a game of whist with them, although taking little pleasure in any game, but of all others the most in chess. I did not care to refuse, fearing it would appear unsociable, we accordingly sit down and I took dummy, after having dealt round several hands, and having gained eight points, I dealt for dummy and when taking up the cards, to our astonishment – Dummy had all of the hearts, I the spades, Mr. S the diamonds and his wife the clubs. – Mrs S. being superstitious declined playing anymore – this was January 7th 1854.

                                                                                                January 23rd. Reading Archbishop Whately’s Elements of Rhetoric Page 49 – Chap 2nd Part 1st. “What is meant by chances against any superstition.” He says – “In like manner astonished we should be and convinced of the intervention of artifice if we saw anyone draw out all the cards in the pack and regular sequences, it is demonstrable that the chances are not more against that order, than any one determinate order we might choose to fix upon, the multitude of the chances therefore against any series of events, does not, in his opinion constitute it improbable.


March 20th. Went up the Pelerin mountain to Pletex. The trees budding, the fields, rocks + craigs covered with primroses


A Primrose by the river brim

Or at the cottage door,

A yellow Primrose is to him

And it is nothing more.



April 4th 1854. Went with Arthur to see Merle L’Aubigny author of the Reformation found him very pleasant, he went with us to see Dr Melan, who we regretted was not in. I gave D’Aubigny – Hilliards “Webster” I had just rec’d from Mayor Seawer [spell?] of Boston.


April 10. Went with my daughters + Arthur and Mr + Mrs. S. in the boat to Chillon and returned in the evening – excessively warm.


April 13th. Went with the same to Montreaux in a Voiture and from thence walked up the mountain to glyon to Mirabeau’s – New Hotel being built, lunched at Chasseaur Vandois – weather very hot.


April 15th. Went with Mr + Mrs S. and his two boys and my five children to Bouveret over the Lake, encountered a squall returning, and were driven beyond beyond the town, the Lake in a foam, enjoyed it and our Picnic, a fine rainbow over Dent del Jaman. Weather very warm.

April 16th ’54 I carried round the plate in the old church St. Martins, for the last time, having done so frequently before, when the regular warden was absent, the reflection that it was the last time called up many deep emotions and retrospections, for two years worshipping and associating with so many different Pastors and an ever changing congregation of travelers how many melancholy thoughts as they have come and gone, have they been the objects of some lie buried in the Churchyard. As the Rev. Mr Barlee, Lady Baring + others. The last time! – How sad a reflection! In this old church his buried Ludlow the regicide. – and Broughton who read the sentences.


April 18th. Went with my family, Mr + Mrs. S. Young Mr Hinckley and the two Ross boys acrost the Lake to the rocks of Meillerie (in Savoy) so celebrated by Rasseau and Lord Byron, returned by moonlight, my youngest sons from whom I am soon to be separated for the first time (the ocean being between us) occupied my thoughts the whole time.


April 24th 1854. Having settled all my account and taken leave of my two sons, Sunday evening the 23rd they having passed the day with us, we took a farewell of Vevay as we climbed the Pelerin Mountain in a Voiture bound for Berne, provided by my carriage friend Weibel. We remained at Berne until the 29th, receiving many civilities from our minister Mr Fay + Mr Murray the English envoy. Leaving Berne we proceeded by the valley Montiers to Basle on the Rhine. This route is very mountainous and recalled to mind the visit I made into the mountains July 22nd/53 when taking a guide and a knapsack I proceeded up the mountain to Sepey a small hamlet situated in a hollow, between the dent du Midi over topping it on one side, and the Moicles on the other the next day I took a guide, crossing the mountains to Chateau Dax, passing Comballe a small pension in the valley, very disagreeable hot night + oppressive weather, but I made up my mind to return to Vevay, by Mont Boven and the dent de Jaman. I was extremely lonely and depressed and needed some excitement to arouse; Lord Byron declared this passage as exhibiting the most beautiful pastoral scenery he had ever beheld, taking a horse and a guide I took the Jommere Pass, and in six hours arrived at the Chateau in Vevay, stopping to lunch at Chalet de Avents and descending by Mountain, perfectly overcome by some of the Views from these mountains, including Mont Blanc, the range of the Juras, lake Leman, and Alps without numbers, on our side and on the other, the valley and mountains of Friebourg, the lakes of Neuchatel + Morat; here can he heard the horns of the Shepards playing the Ranz de Vaches. I was excessively tired body and mind when I arrived home.


     Which reminds me of a visit I had in August, just after, from Count Graeben aid de camp general to the King of Prussia and Chamberlain to the Queen of Prussia travelling under the title of Princess de Liegnitz* he came to see the Chateau once, with the Princess, and twice or more, after, to ask questions about the United States. I loaned him “Websters dying moments” By Hilliard.


September /53. The Prince of Prussia who formerly occupied the Chateau brought his relative the young Prince heir to the Throne, to see the Chateau, he was on his way to England to accompany the Queen in her visit to her fleet. Under Sir Charles Napier previous to sailing for Russia; he has since married the Queens daughter, he spoke English fluently.


*wife of William 3rd


To return from my digression we left Basle and arrived at Carlsrube May 4th and after passing the day went to Heikelberg May 5th where we remained until May 9th busily employed in sight seeing, Castles +c. +c. magnificent, nothing superior to it in Europe (of former times) from Heidelberg we went to Manheim where we visited the Palace of the Grand Duchess Stephanie, adopted daughter of Napoleon 1st. She was in the cars with us, having been on a visit to the Duke of Baden at Carlsrube from Manheim we went on the Rhine to Coblentz and visited Castles Ztolzenfels + Ehrentreilstein, and thence to Co’ln where in the Museum we saw some fine Modern Paintings, the waters of Babylon from the Psms. And a painting of St. Francis by Rubens. From Cologne we went to Brussels where we met our townsmen + friends Mr + Mrs Lathrop Motley – Went to Waterloo +c. +c.

Arrived at Paris May 20th at Hotel Des Estranges 3 Rue Vivienne, found rooms ready

for us. June 16th. Left Paris for London via Havre and arrived in London the 17th. Monday 19th. Went to Convent garden to see Grisi in Luerentia Borgia. The Queen + King of Portugal + Royal family there, we occupied my friend Peabody’s Box. Left London 23rd for Warwick where we remained three days visiting the Castle, Stratford upon Avon, Kenilworth Grey’s Cliff, and Shakespeare’s house + also attending church at St. Marys. Monday we left for Liverpool and sailed the 28th in the Baltic for New York where we arrived in nine days, sixteen hours 58 minutes at that time the shortest passage on record, amongst the passengers were, to be mentioned, for the unexpected events since taken place, Capt. Magruder and Capt. Humphreys, of the Engineers of the U.S. Army . . . and their present position shows as great a reverse as their characters then exhibited. Humphreys was a very agreeable man, extremingly unassuming The “Arctic” – Stemaer that succeeded us was burnt, with a great part of her passengers. We arrived at New York July 8th 1854 and proceeded same day to my mother in law’s at Bloomingdale. Where we passed the summer my eldest son entering the Berkley Divinity Institution under Bishop Williams at Middletown Conn. The Winter of ’55 we were located in Winthrop House in Boston where the Masonic Temple now stands the following summer we passed at Lenox at a private boarding house and the following winter at the corner of Beacon + Mt. Vernon Streets. In spring of ’56 my eldest daughter was married: during these two past years my life was past mostly in reading. June 4th 1856 I sailed in the Cunard Steamer “Canada” for Liverpool heavy thunder storm first night, Mr Crampton the English minister and Mr Barclay English Consul general, came on board just before sailing having their passports given them by the American government for enlisting men in New York to fight against Russia with whom we were at peace. Mr Gratlan English Consul at Boston came to see them off and introduced me to them. Mr Campton was an agreeable fellow passenger and a gentleman and I had several pleasant conversations with him.


Sunday 8th Passed several large Icebergs, very cold, made Tony Light. June 13th. Friday. Arrived at Liverpool Sunday morning June 15th. Took the rails, arrived in London 16th at Morleys 6 o’ck in morning, arrived in Paris via Bologne and thence to Bordeaux. About twenty miles before coming to Tours. Our engine was suddenly embedded in the sand the Banks of the River being overflowed by the great freshet of that spring we had just left Blois and fortunately were not a usual speed, and consequently were not much disturbed, it was at the full of the moon at between nine and ten at night and when the conductor opened our door in the car third from the Engine which contained only one or two passengers beside myself, we were much surprised in finding ourselves surrounded by some sixty to seventy Arabs, drest in long white robes covering their heads and bodies, occupants of the cars before and behind us. They were a remnant of Abdel Kader’s people returning to Algiers after his interview with the emperor, the remembrance of this scene of romance will never be effaced from my memory. It was like a scene in De Freischutz. I had seen acted in my younger days on the stage, where the dead came out of their graves in their grave clothes; the bright moon reflecting on the river, these wild dark faces peaking out of white hoods and long sheet like mantles; a splendid old castle on the opposite bank of reddish stone shining like gold in the moonlight altogether brought suddenly to my mind Who am I? And where am I? After telegraphing at the station (we had just past) to Tours to send us fresh cars, + remaining on the banks of the River from two to three hours, we were finally relived and reached Bordeaux in the morning, about on o’clock. The next day but one Friday the 20th I left Bordeaux and arrived via rail + carriage at Pau. About eleven o’clock at night, and put up at Garderes, Hotel de France. I past the 22nd Sunday + 23rd Monday at church, and in walking in the cemetery where my wife lies buried; and in the evening to the mail post and arrived at Toulouse next morning at break of day, (150 miles0 – fast travelling – I remained one day to rest, visiting places of note, the weather being so hot and the roads so dusty, that I was induced to take the canal boat from Toulouse to Cette on the Gulf of Lyons. Going on board the 25th Accompanied by an Irish Clergyan the Rev. Robert M. Jones who had been tutor at Pau. To my youngest sons the slowness of this mode of travelling was fully compensated by the magnificent scenery and fine breezes that reached us over meadows and fields loaded with new cut hay, rendering the air fragrant. We had arm chairs to sit and sleep in, and an excellent supply of good coffee, butter, tea + claret wine, omelet +c. The day was without a cloud and a refreshing breeze meeting us as we were carried through the fields by four horses attached to the boat at a speed of five miles an hour the passengers (but three or four soldiers lately from the Crimean War) were respectful and the scenery bounded the whole way by the Ryrennean Mountains was sublime as the lights and shades fell upon them towards evening. On the other side we had some of the richest fields of Languedoe the most romantic part of the South of France the scenery was delicious and called to memory a book I had read when at school, Madam Radcliff’s Romance of this country, we passed old cities + towns of centuries ago, with Castles still in a state of preservation such as Villapanche, Castle Naredy + Carcassione where there is a Castle as large as Windsor and has a basin of water surrounding it on one side of the city, formerly made a defense, but now in Modern times used as a depot for Canal boats. Altogether this old city with its battlements, fortresses, and old red towers and inhabitants in curious old costumes presented one of the most romantic scenes I ever saw and such as I had read of but never believed in and when we take into consideration the beauty and quiet serenity of the evening of our arrival and passing it about sunset, middle of June, the delicious Southern evening, warmth of the climate, the season of the year the effulgence of the setting sun on the peaks of the surrounding mountains and the red stone towers of the old city like burnished gold, it strikes us, as vain and foolish to attempt to convey in language anything like the reality, or to describe the sensations of the heart + feeling of a traveler so far from home as I was, and to make me realize that I had walked the Boston common only four weeks before. Sombre thoughts and a dead unbroken silence seemed to have seized all, including the soldiers, as we glided past this voluptuous evening scene, we arrived at Cette June 25th Evening and slept. Next day by rails arrived at Lyons, in the evening at Hotel del Universe, where I remained to rest until evening of the 28th when I took the Diligence + rails and arrived Sunday morning June 29 at Geneva. Monday 30th My sons arrived from Vevay, and Tuesday I stopped in the boat at Nyon to see my friends the fellow lodgers at the Chateau and then proceeded on to Vevay, where I found Lathrop Motley and family established. I passed July 2nd at Vevay – 3rd at Friebourgh – 4th Soleure – 5th at Basle. Before leaving Vevay I paid a last farewell visit to my old residence Chateau de la Tour, and the conversation I then had with a Mr Wollaston the present occupant, brought back to my mind, a night there when the Lake was greatly agitated. Mr Wollaston an English gentleman with a family of daughters complained much of the intrusion of the concierge in showing the Castle to strangers and asked how I had prevented it, and also mentioned the agitation of the Lake once since he was an occupant which brought back to my recollection a night in this old Chateau which

can never be erased from my mind. It was in the fall of 1853 and as a preface to which I must relate that my side of the Castle contained the Armory and in the tower were figures of men drest up in armor the floor were uncarpeted and the fire place reached nearly one whole side of the room I inhabited; at which in ancient days they roasted claves and sheep whole, my window shutters were of hard wood eased with iron, to rebut the waves which broke over the castle when these terrific storms took place, at certain periods the lake is liable to great agitations, rising and falling within twenty four hours, twelve to fifteen feet, it has been, and is, a mystery, what produces this sudden phenomenon, the Lake in some places is nine hundred feet deep within the toss of an apple from the Battlements of the old Chateau when these risings take place (which cannot be foretold or accounted for) should it so happen that a storm is upon the Lake the Hullabilou (French-Hurlubeslu) is awful. The Latteen boats are pitched upon the shore high + dry; cows, sheep + calfs are seen swimming about in the lake and often drowned. I saw such a scene happen once in the day time. After my severe affliction at Pau I got in the habit of lying awake so continually very night that I had fears of mental derangement, having such responsibilities of a young family deprived of a mother, left with me in a foreign country, so unable as I felt myself to supply her place, tired and harassed I could not sleep and when I did it was unrefreshing, something was to be adopted, and as an experiment I concluded to have two wax candles placed aside of my bed at Pau and afterwards when on the road and in the old Chateau at Vevay and for more than two years I read myself to sleep, when waking up at night as I was in the habit of doing at about midnight. It will not do to give in, when God’s finger is laid upon us to chasten us, my reading of course was such as to hold me up and strengthen me in the duties I had before me – I often look back with gratitude that my sight was not destroyed, my general health became affected + I was laid up to two months of the Winter of ’52 in Monnet’s Hotel before I moved into the Chateau, with the exception of these two months, I never left off reading at midnight until I returned to this Country, when intercourse with my relatives + friends helped to tranquilize my feelings and relieve me in a degree from anxieties about my children. Having thus described the Chateau and my habits while residing there, I will return to the night I have reference to – It had been a fine evening and after sitting on the breakwater of the old Chateau looking at the reflections in the Lake of the lights in the Chalets of the mountains of Savoy and the adjoining mountains the moon just emerging from the Peaks of the Mont D’Anil over Chillon I retired to my chamber fronting the Lake, deeply engrossed with the magnificence + sublimity  of the scenery, and falling asleep I awoke as usual at about midnight and lighting my bougies commenced reading, my attention was soon arrested by the peculiar sound called the moaning of the Lake accompanied by the whistling of the wind and now and then a slap against my window shutters, similar to what we experience at seas of waves against our berths in a high seas. I felt and heard

the doors in the corridor rattling and now and then a gust came down the chimney causing a flickering of my candles. I became uneasy with a dreadful feelings of loneliness, solitude + desolation, presently through the bulls eyes in the shutters, my room was in a blaze of light, followed by a peal of thunder such as I never heard before and then echoed from mountain to mountain, craig to craig as described by Lord Byron in his Canto 3rd of Childe Harold when resident on the Lake and in the midst of this scene, a gust of wind coming down the chimney extinguished my candles, shook the arms of my bed [curtains?] which had been up for centuries, and caused a rattling of the old armor in the adjoining rooms. Through exhausture, I feel asleep, and next morning, when I descended to go to breakfast at the other wing of the Chateau my neighbours observing my paleness asked me if I had been disturbed, they having been up all night, and stated that the concierge had found my front door wide open in the morning and the door leading to my room also. I shall never forget that night.


To return to my sons, from Basle July 7th we proceeded to Karlsrube and thence to Heidelburg + afterwards to Frankfort and July 10th to Weisbaden where we visited the Greek Chapel built by the Emperor of Russia on the tomb of his daughter the late Duchess of Nassau from thence we went to Coblenz by the steamer, and there engaged a voiture to Emms, and returning visited the Castle of Stolzenfels. July 13th went down the river to Cologne from thence into Paris where we arrived July 18th after visiting Brussels, Antwerp, Waterloo, Viviers +c.


July 27th. Arrived in London and went to Trafalgar Hotel, Trafalgar Square corner of Cockspur Street – July 30th went to Aldershot to see the Queen review 12.000 of her troops, just landed from the Crimea, a very splendid sight – went to Windsor Aug 2nd. To Greenwich the 5th. The 7th Passed with my old friend Charles Robert Leslie R. A. talking over old times thirty four years ago. Leslie not so much altered as I expected, his looks were always older than his age when I first knew him. Consequently I had prepared myself to find him more grey and bald than he was. – at No. 2. Abecorn Place St. Johns Wood. We left London August 8th and after visiting Oxford, Warwick, Stratford on Avon and their vicinities we reached Liverpool August 12th + embarked August August 16th in the Niagara Cap’t. Lutch and arrived in Boston 27th. My fellow stateroom mate Judge Boyle of Louisiana I found a quiet and agreeable man – where is he now? Rises in my thoughts, we little then anticipated an antagonism since. [note added later: “in civil war”]


            From this date the time of our arrival in the United States, there is a scant history to recall, my eldest son was ordained Deacon June 7th 1857 at Middletown by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Williams, his two brothers were preparing for Harvard and my second daughter was married October 6th 1857, by her brother to William Sturgis Hooper. July 30th 1857 left Nahant where we had been staying, with Arthur, Charles, Herbert + Phil, my four sons, on an excursion to the White Mountains we were disappointed by finding the steamboat on Sebago Lake discontinued hired a carriage eighteen miles to East Baldwin, Dyers Hotel, next morning were driven thirty miles to Dyer to North Conway, stopping to dine at Fryeburt where Daniel Webster kept school in early life.

found a large company at Conway, which was nearly a wilderness when I was there with Fisher + Doughty in 1832.


            From N. Conway we went to the Glen House and next day August 2nd ’57 my son Arthur preached there. Aug 3rd we ascended Mt. Washington and dining on the top descended to the Crawford House to sleep, Herbert walked all of the way up + down. August 4th Went to visit the Wiley house in the bowl. 5th Proceeded to Profile House thence to Meredith + Center Harbor and August 7th to Wolfborough + Boston and Nahant


Aug 8th.

                        From the above date 1857 to 1860 March 12th my history is destitute of anything worthy of record, excepting the marriage of my second daughter + the entrance of my second son into Harvard College it was an epoch full of peril as regarded the prosperity of the Country as the following Civil War exhibited.

            To the glory of God + justification of his infinite goodness I do hereby acknowledge that in all the dispensations of Providence which had befallen me to that day however uneasy to flesh + blood, I had experienced the kindness of a father to a child, and am now convinced, that it would have been much worse for me to have had my own choice. Entering my sixty sixth year . . .


From the 13th of April 1861. The fall of Fort Sumpter, the pulse of every father in the North was stirred, those who had sons coming of age were sadly moved by the prospect before them, that no one had ever dreamed of, or anticipated shortly after. The passage of the 6th Regiment through Baltimore created a perfect furor in the breasts of all young men in the Colleges and elsewhere, deserting their vocations, throwing aside their books, they were flocking to Camp meetings and drills throughout the Country. There are few of us old people now living, who had from our boyhood read of the stirring times of the Revolution, of Bunker Hill + Bennington fights, who ever had it enter our minds that we could ever experience such scenes as those and nevertheless how much more terrible have been the sufferings of the prisoners in our time that any we read of in those days. – Surely modern warfare is more savage in the treatment of prisoners than then; they had no pens like Andersonville and no prisons like the Libby, and the horrors of the civil war for four years duration have in the separation of families the bitter alienations + ungovernable hatreds, far exceeded anything ever before recorded in history and it has tended to disclose to many the want of patriotism and the total unreliability of many of those we had esteemed as friends and whose sympathy and cooperation we had depended upon in our own cities some of whom turning their avails into gold have deserted their Country in time of need, leaving their friends to bear the brunt, and returned back again after the issue to share in the peace brought by the blood + sacrifices of their fellow citizens, having eluded and escaped all their share in the expense and loss of life in their families. Men who loaded with wealth quite their town houses on the last day of April and move into the Country to save the lawful tax on their personal, thereby increasing the tax of their less opulent neighbors.


If we suffer ourselves to be so infatuated with love of money as to render our minds from the long habit of selfish gratification incapable of fulfilling the duties we owe to mankind then let us not repine that our lot ceases in this world, or that the rich man shall never inherit immortal life.


            As I had feared it was not long before the patriotism of my sons incited them to ask to join the band of young men rushing to the defense of their country, my eldest (or third son rather) entered a regiment with several of his classmates, which regiment greatly distinguished itself before the close of the war being engaged in some of the severest battles, and his brother, my fourth son shortly obtained a commission of Second Lieutenant in the First Regiment of the United States Artillery; from this period until the close of the war I can conscientiously say I never knew what it was to have my mind free from clouds and fears encircling it, or to have the unbroken sound sleep I had been accustomed to in former days; the horrors of the Southern Prisons (continually narrated by the Southern Press.) kept me in greater alarm than the minnie rifles and cannon balls of the Rebels. How little we know how to estimate the blessings of peace in time of our Country’s repose; and how ungrateful we have been in underrating the long epoch of our Countries signal prosperity, while other countries have been depopulated by war; like the Ostrich with its head alone buried in the sand, thinks that it is out of harms way. So we have imagined that we were beyond any trouble, that could assail us. The first opening of my eyes to the horrors of war and the exposure of my sons; was the reception of a letter from my fourth son, short of four weeks after he had left me. Dated May 8th 1862 as follows ----


“I am safe – we fought the battle on Monday, our battery lost seventeen men, fifty one horses, four guns, and all of the officers but the Captain and myself.”      It is easy to read such a report, but impossible to imagine the sensations conveyed to the breast of an aged parent – or to enlarge upon, or recount the palpitations and fears proceeding the reported coming Battle.     Shortly after a summons awaited me by telegraph from the Battlefield where my son was prostrated by disease occasioned by exposure (accompanied by a son in law) I left the same day and found him lying helpless in a camp of eighteen hundred sick and wounded at Yorktown Virginia – the thermometer was 100 degrees and over, and Yorktown threatened by the enemy – Genl. Stoneman’s Cavalry

falling back after the raid upon the White House. Procuring a furlough for thirty days, I returned with him to Boston, and on my way home, at New York, rec’d the information that his brother, a captain in the Twentieth (20th) Massachusetts, was seen near Harrisons Landing on the James River, sick, + the Army upon the retreat. When I received this news it was Sunday and I was resting at the Brevoort House New York, not having had my clothes off for six days; my other son had proceeded on to Boston. It was excessively hot, and it was impossible for me to retrace my steps without great risk of being completely worn out, and my son in law, his half brother, C.S.U. started for Washington to procure a passport to go to the Army after him, and while absent the transport Daniel Webster arrived at new York, with four to five hundred sick and wounded, among whom was my son. I proceeded to Boston with him where both he and his brother soon recovered by the benefit of rest and the sea air. July 24th My son left for the army again and was at Harrisons landing the 30th. And at Yorktown Aug 21st to embark the next day, M. Lellan’s army withdrawing – from James River. August 25th. Herbert left for the army and joined his regiment near Rockville Sept 6th. In the battle of Antietam – fought Sept 17th. The company he commanded lost 22 men, killed, wounded + missing. December 11th he was one of the forlorn hope (so called) that crossed in boats to take possession of Fredericksburg when 110 of his regiment + 5 officers were disabled.


            February 27th ’63. Phil arrived home on ten days furlough – he left on Monday march 9th in cars, having had a rainy visit.                 Herbert arrived March 10th and left the 18th to join his Regiment at Falmouth – having had fine weather every day.   May the 2nd + 3rd the Battle of Chancellorsville fought, in which both were actively engaged. Phil’s Battery brought forward to check the enemy when the Eleventh Corps under Howard gave way – the Lieut. Commanding Dimmick being killed, the command devolved upon him. Owing to his increased responsibilities I received no letter from him or account of him until the 11th, during which time my mind was in a state of great excitement and anxiety.


                        Two months after was the Battle of Gettysburgh. July 1st 2nd + 3rd the 3rd 4th + 5th we were in dreadful suspense, having heard on the 3rd of the Battle commencing on the 1st and having two sons both engaged in the melee, there was not rest for me.


            July 6th I received a telegraph that my son Capt. Herbert C. Mason lay badly wounded at the Entan House Baltimore, next morning at half past 8 in company of my son in law – Appleton. I was by his bedside where I found my son Weyman Already, they two proceeded with him (on a stretcher) to New York and I waited to ascertain the fate of his brother Phillip. Genl. Donaldson telegraphed the adjutant General at Gettysburg for me, but the confusion and change of places, delinquency in the returns, so soon after the Battle rendered it impossible to ascertain, all that I could hear was that he was on cemetery hill, the very center of hard fighting. I consequently took the next train and joined my son at the Brevoort House New York + proceeded on with him to Boston next day, where we arrived on the 9th at his brother Appletons house in Beacon Street. July 13th Received a letter from Phil (at Frederick, dated July 8) untouched but had his horse wounded under him. July 22nd. Drs. Warren, Cabot + Oliver found the Ball in Herbert. A minnie ball, near the hip joint and Dr Warren extracted it. The locality brings vividly back to my mind an accident that happened to him when a boy, which I give as an extract from my diary, and the escape from which accident (as not causing more suffering) I have never been able to account for to this day.  April 17, 1848. My son Herbert C. Mason, eight years of age, was brought to my house No. 81 Beacon St. + put into my arms at ½ past eleven this morning, having been run over by a Bakers Cart with two wheels weighting 1100 pounds without the bread. The driver directly behind the cart saw the wheel go over him, and took him up and brought him to me, the Baker was Mr Pike – North End, and he told me his cart was two thirds full of bread – Drs. M Warren + Jeffries attended him. A black mark acrost his body between the naval + the hip, showed evidently where the wheel went, the accident occurred in a small lane running from Charles Street up to Spruce Street, back of Beacon street marked on the map as Branch Avenue.


            There must have been some small stone to have given the wheel a jerk as it went over him, for being a two wheeled cart, it seems otherwise a miracle that it did not crush him in two.


            Returning to his wound I was much indebted to late President Quincy for a patent Bedstead, made for him after his fracture, it proved of great alleviation of pain to my son. With Mr. Quincy I had had friendly intercourse for years accompanied, accompanied by the highest respect for him.


            December 22nd My son Phillip arrived from the Army and with the exception of a slight sore throat was in good health and spirits. Surgeon General Dale gave him an extension and he left us (for the last time being in Boston) Jan’y 2nd 1864 for his brothers at North Haven and his grandmothers + Uncle Mali’s at Fordham N. Y.


                                                We all observed that the severe Battles he had been engaged in, the responsibilities he had encountered so young in the command of a Battery had saddened his visage, and added years to his appearance but he was cheerful and enjoyed apparently his visit to us, and was hopeful of the future.

The Recollections of a


[Volume III]

[this page written in his own handwriting:]


continued from Folio 161,

volume second




a great many mistakes made in

copying these volumes,

and many misplacements [?]

+c and spelling not in the

original ------------

[illegible line]

probably in the original


From the above date until Spring Philip was engaged in various skirmishes and I rec’d. many letters from him retreating and advancing with his Battery up to April 13th when ordered to join his Battery [NE?] to Battery 1 forming a Horse Battery the two under command of A. M. Randol; from this time I felt extremely anxious, hearing they were ordered to join Sheridans Cavalry Expedition.


            June 21st I rec’d a telegram dictated by him, that he was slightly wounded and at the Douglass Hospital Washington – the next day in the evening I was at his bedside, and found him dozing, upon his opening his eyes an seeing me distressed, he said, “Oh! Father, it don’t amount to anything.” Removed the next morning to Mr Hooper’s house, I was greatly distressed to see at the dressing a greater part of his right thigh + right hand carried away a dreadful sight to a father, however hardened by such sights + misery. His dreadfully wounded and distressed state, incapacitated by loss of two limbs, filled me with dismay, and perhaps the unrighteous wish that death might quickly relieve him of such suffering.                 I cannot dwell upon his protracted sufferings of three weeks, the horrors which the most oppressive heat of July, the attack of the Forts of Washington by the Rebel forces under Early + T.C. Breckenridge, the cutting off by the rebels of all intercourse with Baltimore by the blowing up of the bridge + rails with the gunpowder bridge between Philadelphia + Baltimore altogether brought upon us to oppress and sadden us.    After lingering many days never uttering a complaint, with his senses perfect to the last few hours, his spirit took its flight at half past nine Monday morning July 18th, 1864.


            Friday the 22nd we committed his body to Mount Auburn, after the burial services were read at Trinity Church by Bishop Eastburn at 12 o’clock . Lot 3492 [“Lot 3492” is

outlined by a square]


            I shall make no further comments upon this dreadful civil war; many trying incidents, and adventures I have passed over and merely state the outlines as relating to my experience. I wish not to stir up any unpleasant recollections in the bosoms of those in the South with whom I have been associated in my early boyhood at College and since abroad and at home. I trust the next generation will reunite North and South in stronger bonds of amity than ever before has been experienced, and that the Country will be united, forming an immense, powerful, happy republic. One + inseparable – without the strain of Slavery in its escutcheon. When this shall have come to pass, the surviving relatives of those whose lives have been given up to their Country to effect it, will experience the satisfaction that they have not fallen in vain.   Whilst writing this June 10th ’67 I am informed of the death of a young officer with whom I became acquainted and to whom I was enabled to be of service August 10th 1863 by procuring for him and his wife rooms in the Old Colony house at Hingham they having just been vacated by my relative Henry B. Rogers + family, and the lateness of the season causing great scarcity of rooms, Col. Hall having been unsuccessful after waiting a fortnight at the Tremont.


            Suffering from illness brought on by the Battle of Gettysburg he was of much interest to me, having as first Lieut. Of Battery H. 1st U.S. Artillery, been kind to Phil when he first joined that Battery and afterwards as Col. of the 7th Michigan, commanding the Brigade in which Herberts Regiment the 20thw as, in the crossing + attack upon Fredericksburg Dec. 14 + 17, 1862.


Norman J. Hall.


Graduated at West Point in 1859, receiving a brevet commission as 2nd Lieutenant in the Artillery and was stationed during 1860 + 1861 in Fort Sumpter at Charleston under Major Anderson and was sent by Anderson in company of the aid of Governor Pickens to convey to Mr. Buchanan the proposition to surrender the Post. During the seize of Yorktown Lt. Hall April 17 ’62 was attached to Batter H. Capt. Webber as first Officer, from which hew as removed the same month to the staff of Genl Bernard Chief Engineer of the Army of the Potomac, and in this position he went through the Peninsular Campaign of Genl. McLellan. In the summer 1862 he was commissioned Col. Colonel of the Seventh Michigan Regiment forming a part of the third Brigade. Second (Sedgwicks) Division of (Sumners) Second Corps. In this Brigade were our own nineteenth + twentieth Regiments with the fifty-second [scratch marks here] and fifty ninth New York Regiments. At the head of his Regiment he shared in the sanguinary repulse of Sedgwicks Division. At the Battle of Fredericksburg Col. Hall was in command of the Brigade and under his orders and by his suggestion to Genl. Burnside, the daring exploit of crossing the river in Pontoons was performed by the Seventh Michigan + nineteenth + Twentieth Massachusetts. At Gettysburg where the assault of Pickett’s Division had broken the line of Webbs Brigade. Col. Hall’s promptness in bringing up his force + flanking the enemy, greatly contributed to the success of the day. Being incapacitated by sickness for active service he was assigned to various posts in the North during the remainder of the War; the last as successor to Col. Francis M. Clarke as Provost Marshall General and disbursing officer for the District of New England. There was a great deal in this young man (for he was little over thirty when he died. May 26th at Brooklyn N. Y.) to attract the bystander towards him. There was a bonhomie, an exceedingly mild gentlemanly manner about him enticing one to address him and during a weeks intimacy I found him and his young beautiful wife most agreeable companions.

“Call to remembrance the former days.

                                                Feb’y. 10th 1832[?].”


It was my privilege in early life to have made the acquaintance of several gentlemen who have since been distinguished both as artists and Poets (besides Stuart and Allston, before mentioned) and also to have outlived (with one or two exceptions) all of them, a privilege the concomitant of old age. With Richard H. Dana the senior I became acquainted very early in life through my intimacy with Allston his brother in law, which acquaintance has lasted to the present day, over forty years and strengthened my esteem and respect for him yearly in my communications with him, now both of us past the usual life of man.


            I became acquainted with James G. Percival as far back as 1832 through the introduction of a friend the late Dr George Hayward who I assisted in getting subscribers for a weekly paper to be edited by Percival and printed at the press and at the risqué of the late Nathan Hale who generously undertook it to help Percival, the prospectus was published and subscribers obtained and the day appointed for its first number, when Percival without notice disappeared, and was heard of in Connecticut, he was unquestionably at times given to an estrangement of intellect, he visited me several times and always appeared odd and uneasy, particularly when the ladies of my family were present. There were reports of his having been crossed in love in early life – he died a few years since leaving an extensive + valuable library, he was a great reader; his life and poems have since been published.


            With Nathaniel Parker Willis I was associated in a Club mentioned in the first volume of these recollections, out intimacy after his leaving Boston in 1831 was not renewed, he was not over and above nice in his intercourse with society having been charged once with going (Brummel like) to a party without an invitation – he was an entertaining writer and publisher both in phrase + verse. “Requeseat in Pace.” With William Cullen Bryant I became acquainted in Italy, both of us residing the Winter of 1834 with our families at Florence since when I have seldom had the pleasure of meeting him (residing in different cities) he did me a great kindness in 1854 by giving my eldest son a berth in the Editorial Corps of the Evening Post (at a time he (my son) had relinquished his profession of the law) redeeming him from a life of inactivity – Bryant needs no eulogy – with Charles Sprague I was at school sixty years ago, and although occasionally meeting in the highways since and often reading touching and beautiful pieces from his muse, it has not been my good fortune to have been in his company until the past few months when I have visited him and enjoyed his conversation greatly, these comings together of school friends after an elapse of half a century is not an every day occurrence, and when we find little or no change in sentiment, the integrity and uprightness of character untarnished by the roughs o life, how pleasant are our sensations.


With Richard H. Wilde formerly member of Congress from Georgia and author of the beautiful lines “The Last Rose of Summer.” I was connected by marriage and was in the habit of correspondence up to within a few weeks of his death. He represented Georgia in the house of Representatives (from Savannah) some thirteen years, at the expiration of which time he went to Italy and resided in Florence, abandoning himself to literary enjoyments and compiling a life of Tasso which was published after his return to the United States, he finally established himself in New Orleans in the profession of the Law. Moving his family there, from whence I received many letters from him, he having the Summer proceeding, paid me a visit of some weeks at my residence in Louisburg Square in Boston, fortunately for him, he did not live to see the civil war, which has since devastated that section of our Country had it have been otherwise. I feel assured that with his Irish blood and high sense of Chivalry he would have wrecked himself with the rest of the hot bloods of that part of the Country, he was a man very highly favored in personal appearance, being spoken of as of fascinating manners and high deportment of character. When a member of Congress, I received the following letter from him in July 1847 while residing with my family at Nahant, it being his last to me. It was started in the papers that if Henry Clay was elected president his friend Mr Wilde of Georgia would probably be one of his Cabinet, and in one of his letters he hinted at it to me when writing of the probability of his ever leaving New Orleans.

                                                                                                New Orleans, July 31st, 1847

Dear M---n,

            My friend Judge Hopkins of Alabama with his lady and daughters will be at Newport this Summer and as they are persons to whom I am under many obligations of kindness, and moreover are exceedingly amiable and agreeable I wish them to have the advantage of yours + Isabella’s acquaintance. The Judge himself was an ornament to the Bench, and is at the head of the Bar to which he has returned, a more kind hearted, frank, honorable + estimable man, is hardly to be found. His married daughter Mrs. Walker is the wife of my early and most intimate friend. Hon. J’no. W. Walker formerly of Georgia, and afterwards President of the Alabama convention and Senator from that State in the U.S. Senate, besides this hereditary claim upon me, she is lively, good humored and accomplished and has often delighted me with singing some airs from Italian Operas an enjoyment not often afforded me here. Miss Cornelia is also one of my especial favorites and indeed the whole family down to little Kate are especial friends. But I have said enough, if you should fall in with them at Newport or Boston to make you desire their acquaintance.

            Tell Isabella your wife I shall measure her kind remembrance of me to some extent by the reception she gives my friends, and I hope her ancient prejudice against Slavery is sufficiently cooled by time and experience, to admit not only that there are most excellent people among slave holders, but the slaves themselves are much happier and better off than the free blacks.             We are all well and intent standing our acclimation in New Orleans this summer. Thus far although there are many cases of fever in the Hospital and few in private practice, the disease has not assumed the character of an epidemic. One of my servants, slaves, if you will have it, was taken with what the physicians softly term, the acclimating fever, myself and my sister visited him constantly and I may safely say I have had myself half a dozen times fevers in my life. But his was a light case, Bringing the matter so closely home to us and seeing the disease for ourselves has greatly diminished our apprehension of it, + were it not for the mosquitoes we should own our summer almost as endurable as one in Boston, we will not say in Newport; with love to Isabella and children. Believe me Dear M---n.

                                                                                    Very affectionately,

                                                                                                                    R. H. Wilde.


Upon the back of this letter I endorsed – he took the fever from this servant and died in three weeks after inviting it, which was before I + my family left Nahant our summer residence.

Lines written by R. H. Wilde.


When the lone exile sees at last

His loved, his early home once more,

How rushes on his mind the past,

How his full heart at length flows o’er.


Yet every face and every spot he knew,

Are seen with mingled joy and pain;

To mark of all he left how few,

Hearts, hopes + scenes, unchanged remain.


And thus perhaps in after years

So torn these leaves will but recall.

Moments of smiles, and days of tears,

Friends, Joys, Hopes, loves, all lost, all, all.




Lines by R. H. Wilde.


My life is like the summer rose.

That opens to the morning sky

But ere the shades of evening close

Is scattered on the ground to die:

Yet on that rose’s humble bed

The sweetest dews of night are shed

As if she wept such waste to see

But none shall drop a tear for me.


My life is like the autumn leaf

That trembles in the moon’s pale ray

Its hold is frail, its date is brief

Restless and soon to pass away:

Yet when that leaf shall fall and fade

The parent tree will mourn its shade

The winds bewail the leafless tree

But none shall breathe a sigh for me.


My life is like the print which feet

Have left on Tampa’s desert strand,

Soon as the rising tide shall beat,

Their track will vanish from the sand.

Yet as if grieving to efface

All vestige of the human race

On that lone shore loud moans the sea

But none shall thus lament for me.



With hose gentlemen of the Brush besides Gilbert Stuart and Washington Allston, I have been acquainted with John Vanderlyen who was born in Kingston New York in 1776 and died there in 1852 he was  pupil of Stuart + went to Paris in 1796 and remained there five years, painting = “Marius among the ruins of Carthage,” which attracted the notice of Napoleon, also shortly after, his = “Ariadne” which was highly spoken of, afterwards “Columbus” for the U.S. Capitol; his last a portrait of President Taylor, exhibited in 1851. His fort was evidently History, but pungent necessity obliged him to undertake portraits; he wrote to me several times, one of which was the following letter, which I find filed in my letter book.

                                                                                                New York June 22 1833.

Dear Sir: -

            Altho’ I have not had the pleasure of hearing of the safe Arrival of the two boxes cont’g Marins + frame, I conclude that such was the case or I should have heard from you, I have not had the pleasure neither of hearing of thesuccess of your exhibition +c. +c. Business with our corporation here now engages almost my whole attention, I am endeavoring to get back my rotunda or a compensation my claim is deemed too fair to neglect it. I in consequence am prevented from going on to Washington for the present and as I am much at a loss for funds having been disappointed in hopes of receiving some from the Exhibition of my panorama of Versailles at Savannah where I had been urged to send it, the result has been a loss instead of a gain so much for the public taste and spirit at that place. I however sold my portrait of Calhoun to Mr. Blake an amateur + mullifier but a very wealthy one, he has purchased pictures I am informed to the amount of rising $6000 from a picture dealer from a picture dealer from hence (Warrel). My nephew who was on there tells me that Mr B was delighted with the portrait and was desirous to have “Marius” if it was not purchased in Boston, and any other picture of mine. If therefore your Athenaeum should not purchase it I shall not feel any difficulty in disposing of it. – What I regret is not to have the cash now or a portion of it as it is particularly needed by me, for the business I have on hand. Lawyer though friendly must be fed.

May I therefore ask the favor of you to request an advance to me on the picture of “Marius” of $100 if not $200 to be returned on the delivery of the picture. I consider the exhibition of the picture equivalent to the interest of the money, were the picture here I could obtain and advance upon it. I beg you will make known to the gentlemen of the Athenaeum Gallery my wants and wishes and hope as a friend of the arts, they will be not unfriendly to the artist. A line from you in reply will be gratefully received, at as early a time as convenient. $500 is the lowest I will take for “Marius.” Friends tell me how I can raffle it for more money. I should however prefer it to form one of the collection of your Athenaeum Gallery to any individual purchaser. Excuse this hasty scrawl and accept my best wishes. Very respectfully yours.

                                                                                                            J. Vanderlyn.


Vanderlyn’s Rotunda was a large circular building afterward I believe turned into a Post Office or offices, aside of the present City Hall, in the Park opposite the Astor House, and the ground would unquestionably at this time command little short of two hundred thousand dollars if not more. His “Marius” was afterwards sold to go out of the Country for a great deal more than he asked for it and we have no doubt would now bring some thousands here. Like most artists of those days he always contrived to keep poor, spending more freely than he received, next to Allston I esteem him to have been the best colorist of those days in the United States.


            I was also well acquainted in a social way with Col. Trumble, Morse + Rembrant Peale the latter bringing to Boston for exhibition his great painting of the “Court of Death” and consulting me about the exhibition of it; he also brought a portrait of General Washington painted by himself which he and his friends declared to be a more faithful likeness than Stuarts celebrated painting now in the Athaeneum.


            I was often in Stuarts Painting room in those days and recollect Stuart’s angry feelings and observations to me about Rembrant Peale’s presumption in comparing his Portrait with his. Stuart he said Genl. Washington was very much annoyed after he had painted him with applications to sit from all the artists of the country and he had determined to refuse one and all, but that Old Peale, father of Rembrandt, was in favor with Mrs. Washington who persuaded the President to sit once more and that the artist carried both of his sons and their easels, and old Stuart said , with a chuckling laugh they, “Peeled him all round.” Rembrandt Peale’s portrait has very little of the dignity of Stuarts and gives a representation of a heavy, unexcitable character of no great intellect and no commanding appearance, whereas Stuart’s has all we have heard and read of Washington dignity, commanding appearance, and graceful bearing, and it has received up to the present day the full assent of the vast majority of the States as being the only true and faithful representation of our greatest Patriot. But to our great astonishment in the life of our late distinguished fellow citizen Josiah Quincy by his son Mr Quincy, is stated to have said that Washington appeared to him to have resembled a man not accustomed to or at ease in society, not graceful in his walk or of commanding appearance but like a well to do country gentleman reticent and not seeking notoriety. How different this is from Stuarts Portrait, and if just, must give Peale’s portrait the preference for truth, and we understand also Mr Quincy to have said that the best likeness of Washington extant is in possession of Harvard University which we think must be the elder Peale’s.


            We cannot endorse the above or believe Mr Quincy’s views of the General.


            With another artist of those days distinguished for his taste in painting females and his general gentleness of character I became intimate, Thomas Sully, whom I have

lately have been informed is still living and at the age of ninety still taking up the rush. He has been a resident of Philadelphia from early age, making several visits to Europe at different periods, in one of which Queen Victoria was painted by him for a society of her subjects in this Country, he has always been a great favorite in Philadelphia particularly with the ladies, whose portraits he was more successful with than with his male heads, and was at that time thirty to forty years since more like Sir Thomas Lawrence than any other American artist, in his sketches. The following two letters out of sever, I insert.


Philadelphia June 3rd, 1833

Dear M---n,

                        There came a passenger from England to this Country in the same ship with Mrs. Charles Smith of this city a lady on whom rested a mystery none on board the vessel could dispel, she was young, beautiful and intelligent, affected to b an American but had a French accent, was a strong Carlist in Politics, spoke familiarly and affectionately of the young Duke of Bordeaux and with so many particulars of his manners and disposition that Mrs. Smith was forced to conclude that the mysterious stranger must have formerly been his governess. Will this make the picture you and my friends in Boston admire, still more interesting? Is it not very romantic? But this fact has nothing to do with the portrait in question, it was copied from the face of Mrs. King, wife to a staid honest gold beater and who would be dreadfully alarmed if he were to learn how much his wife had been admired in Boston. I rejoice to hear of the success of your exhibition. I should like to visit it but cannot leave home at present, even to see the New York Exhibition which is so much nearer to me. You are correct as regards Miss Kembles portrait, I painted two of her from memory + a third for which she sat, as a present to my wife and in her character as Fanny Kemble. I would have sent you Mr Kemble, but did not think it proper to have so many of mine in your gallery, remember me affectionately to Allston. Yours with much esteem.

                                                                                                            Thomas Sully


Upon my return from Europe in 1836, in June of that year, I wrote to Sully that if he would make his usual summer vacation trip to this way Boston. I would obtain some heads for him to paint at his leisure moments to pay his expenses, and at any rate he should paint my wife and I would provide room, easel, paints + canvas to which I received the following answer.


                                                                                    Philadelphia August 1st, 1836.

Dear M---n,

                        I had determined to give myself a week of recreation in the country after getting through a whole length portrait which is yet on my easel, when your friendly invitation reached me. After some deliberation on the possibility of being absent from my engagements here for so long a time, I have concluded to accept your proffered kindness and take possession of your painting room for two weeks. Be kind enough to mention this to Dr, Warren to Hon. Abbot Lawrence, member of congress, to both of whom I stand pledged if I visit Boston to paint, and these together with Mrs. M---n’s portrait are all I can undertake. Will you add to your kindness by engaging me a residence in a boarding house as near to your house as practicable and further let me know the size portrait you choose, that I may bring on with me the canvas and it would save me some trouble to know the kind of portrait Dr Warren and Mr Lawrence would prefer. I hope to leave this on the 8th.

                                    Very truly your friend,

                                                            Thomas Sully


Sully came, and boarded in the house now in 1867 occupied by Charles G. Loring next the State House, and painted Dr Warrens portrait, now in possession of Charles Lyman his son in law. Also Abbot Lawrence – he met Allston at my house at dinner and other of his friends and painted my late wife – Alas! All of three of the originals have long since been dead.


                        Sully I have never estimated as a great artist, but he was the best female painter we had in those days Stuart being deceased.


                                                                                                            With another artist the late Thomas Cole I contracted a warm friendship not only on account of his artistic value but from my admiration of his great moral worth and truly religious character. He passed a fortnight travelling with me in my Jersey Waggon in 1833 visiting Northampton where from the top of Mount Holyoke he painted a beautiful view of the Connecticut River and its windings he accompanied me to Boston and took a view of the city for Joshua Bates of the firm of Baring Brothers +Co. London. He painted for me a beautiful view of the Arno + Cascine in Florence now in possession of my brother, I assisted him in disposing of several of his paintings amongst others a large view of Florence taken from Bells, guardo heights; alas a view of Mount Etna which I disposed of for him to the late Caspar Crowningshield; and another large view of the same subject differently treated, for Mr. David Sears           After my return from Europe in 1835 our acquaintance was renewed and Cole when in Boston was much at my house, he died very unexpectedly to me, and very shortly after, I was applied to by his New York friends, for some memorial of him. But hearing that Wm. C. Bryant a warm friend of his, the distinguished poet and editor was preparing a memoir of him I waited until I heard further, which elicited the following graphic account of his sickness and death, with an account of his finished + unfinished + projected paintings, written by a warm friend and able writer and one I assume to be a clergyman (if not) a warm heartfelt friend of Cole’s. --------------------------------------------


                                                                        56 Maiden Lane, New York

                                                                        March 4th, 1848



            I should have sooner answered your enquiries relative to the death of Mr Cole, but that my time has been occupied so much, as to prevent my doing so, as well as for thanking you for your ready reply to the information asked of you.

            Mr. Cole died on the 11th of February Friday at 8 P.M. after an illness of 5 days. On the previous Sunday he attended church at the Village, but felt unwell and did not go in the afternoon about midnight he was taken with a bilious attack, sent for the doctor who prescribed – on the second felt very much better – but pleurisy came on and his case alarmed the family on Friday congestion of the lungs followed and ended in his death, - He was perfectly resigned regretted no earthly things, but looked forward to a new state of perfect bliss, and hoping for that purity he so loved to portray in his pictures and which

he so strongly exhibited in all his actions, he called his family around him, partook of the Holy communion 15 minutes before 8. and died very happily – He has left a wife and three children, the oldest a boy about ten years of age + two girls, one about 7, the other 4. – He was not embarrassed pecuniarily for he had realized some thing from his profession – his wife inherited some property which leaves her + family very comfortably situation – his sister Miss Cole has not been specially provided for, no will having been left and she and her aunt will feel Mr. Cole’s loss much, for Mr. C. had always been very liberal in providing for his sisters and previously his parents. The loss is indeed a great one to his family, to his friends + to the world, and to the latter is not the loss least, for it was his aim in all his recent works to render his art subservient only to a noble theme, that of depicting in glowing colors the beauties of Christianity + revealed religion, that thereby with man a feeling of reverence might be inculcated – you are no doubt familiar with his first series – “The rise + fall of Empire” and of his second, “The Voyage of Life.” A third he was at work on and had completed three of the five and partially proceeded with the fourth the subject is the “Cross + the World” or as he first named it “The two Pilgrims.” In the first picture, two youths in Pilgrim garb are leaving their mentor alone taking to the left side where a gorgeous sunset, enticing flowers, and long plains attract him; the other takes to the right where is a rocky precipitous elevation – to this leads a hard and stony way, and hither he means his pilgrim to walk that he may gain the Cross, which somewhat enveloped in mists, but of itself pure + silvery, is placed above. The second picture “Pilgrim of the Cross” we have him in vigorous youth, still making (amid a violent tempest) onward for the cross. Trees are bending, rain clouds dripping and streams rushing and a ravine lies between him and the sought object, but he looks steadily onward. In third picture we find him in old age on top of a fresh and beautiful mount, welcomed by three angels, and kneeling to receive the crown of glory held by one of the angels, who are in the spacious architecture of a fabric fancifully formed of most skillfully painted clouds, high above which is the Cross. The fourth picture shows the cross dimmed by clouds, a vision of Empire is indicated by a crown dimly seen; beneath it, war trophies and rich massive architecture, there is the garden of those devoted to pleasure filled with the giddy + gay, mingling in wanton revels, a statue of Bacchus presiding over that scene: to the right of the picture is the Temple of Mammon This picture is barely more than begun and the chalk marks are yet on parts of it. The study for the last picture represents the Pilgrim of World in old age in a cold and frosty scene bare and bleak and nothing but ocean in view, overhead death with Bat like wings seems ready to end the eventful history of one grown gray + frosty in unwise pleasure. He contemplated a series of “Sacred Empire” to run upwards as it were, from his “Profane Empire” and he had likewise thought of “Sowing + Reaping” as adapted to giving a moral interest to Landscape. His last picture finished is from the 23rd Psalm and is indeed very firm in thought – and as a painting is probably superior in mechanical treatment, to anything he ever painted, unless it be the second series of the Cross. A picture five feet by eight was the last work he touched on = subject “Proserplime gathering flowers” and he intended it for the next Exhibition of the National Gallery. He looked forward with much interest to a project he had of publishing his last series in the shape of finely executed lithographies, that good might come out of their diffusion, which he hoped would be accomplished by their being cheaply published, by the drawings being executed by himself. The only experiment he made shows the loss to be great indeed. He had recently erected a commodious studio and no longer dependent upon a capricious world for commissions he concentrated his thoughts and mind and was painting subjects in the vein he was most partial to – he had too the pleasure of knowing that he was better understood and better appreciated, and that a little more judiciously written criticism than in former days interpreted his intentions more fully (truly).         Growing in power of intellect and skill partially secluded from the worlds cares, his aim was to improve and elevate, and improve mankind; but it was otherwise ordained for him, as he said, “his trust was in the Lord,” so he departed in full confidence of glorious immortality” ------

I must crave pardon for writing at such length, but I have so frequently been interrupted since I began, that interruption has caused want of brevity.


                                                J. M. Falconer


With Horatio Greenough, I made an acquaintance at Mr R. H, Dana the Poets house in Cambridge in the year 1825, he then being in the senior class at Cambridge and I having lately arrived from Europe he was very inquisitive about Chantrey + the English sculptors – he had at that early period attracted considerable notice, having in one or more copies in chalk from marble Busts, exhibited decided talent, and in fact may, from that period he called the Pioneer sculptor of America, for prior to him I have no recollection of any native born American having taken it up as a profession, a year or two after he went to Europe and in Florence and Rome applied himself sedulously to his studies, and from hard application and low state of body, living too abstemiously he imbibed the malaria fever of Rome and was obliged to return home, where after a short time he became restored + resumed his studies, he returned to Europe carrying with him, several commissions for Busts, from whence I received several letters of which the following is one.

                                                                                                Florence March 16, 1829

My Dear M---n.          

                        You seem to think there is no patronage in America capable of carrying on an artist through life and giving him a chance3 to show what he can do, without either starving or begging – If not – then are we all damned? For I can tell you that there is precious little chance for us, this side of the water. The English would as a nation never give a man of us a reputation if they could possibly help it. I could tell you some afflicting facts with reference to this jealousy of theirs, but I’ve promised as little bitter as possible – so let it go – you advice me to cringe a little, if cringing a great deal would serve their turn there would be hundreds of Italians far my superior in the employment of John bull. But the fact is John is not so rich as he was 6 or 8 years since. Tis not so much the fashion to buy works of art: fewer of the English families are traveling -

fewer of those rich gentlemen who ape nobility and court notoriety by the protection of genius. – so that – the immense number of artists called into existence by the great demand for statues and pictures at the close of the great war (1815) when the fortunes of England, poured from their foggy little Island all over the continent, are now on half allowance. I believe that your nearness to what is doing for the fine arts in America, prevents your seeing clearly its value and its progress. I read of pictures to the amount of 2 or $3000 having been bought in Boston, that was handsome, a portion of it went to relieve and gratify Old Col. Trumble whom we should all reverence as a veteran in the Art, - I’m sorry they bought that daub of Wests, for that will do nobody any good. Why hug any longer the phantom of a name long dead, even in the country for whose loaves + fishes and fame he sold his birthright, and abandoned his country. I don’t respect that old fellow altogether M---n, after what has come to my knowledge since I have been in Europe with regard to his duplicity + tricks with Allston – Allston never breathed a thought or feeling against the man to me however – I would rather hold a high standing in the opinion of my countrymen than be the minon of the greatest Pharaoh of them all.          I am at present occupied on a marble Bust of Cooper the novelist, which I modeled at the commencement of the winter and which I believe is like him; the bust of Mrs Silmore is already in a state of forwardness and will be sent to Baltimore in the course of the summer - I am also occupied on a model of a group which I am to execute in marble for Mr Cooper, which thank God will go to America. And may be the means of making me known to some of the gentlemen of New York who employ artists. Mr Rembrandt Peal is at Rome I understand he has already commenced operations, he copied a head of Madam Starke of Guide Book writing celebrity, by way of getting his hand in. You have probably the same idea I always had that the family of Michael Angelo is extent, I believe we get it from Biographers – Tis a mistake. When I came to Florence in October the exhibition was open and among the drawings in Bistre I observed a composition of the raising of Lazarus with the name of Michael Angelo Buonotti annexed to it. I believed of course it was a copy of one of his designs for Sebastian del Piombo, it was not until my present residence here that I learned that a young man of that name a lineal descendant of the family his villa at Fiesole, and heir apparent to the very house of Michael Angelo and that he had carried off the pension for Rome from which city he will now shortly return at which time I’ve the promise of an introduction to him. A friend of mine assures me that he has in his possession original draughts and pen sketches of the hand of this great master; at the villa of Fiesole. There is a Sater drawn in Charcoal on the wall, while the servant prepared a meal for his impatient master, this still is preserved with great care, being framed around and covered with glass. I have been interrupted by Madam Cooper and a French lady who have been in the study to see the group, the French lady who prides herself on speaking a little English says “Oh! Its chimming, they are so fat, so fat. They are good to kiss.” I have drawn my model nearly to a close and I assure you I feel much relieved at finding it does not entirely disappoint. We have had here English Races. Lord Normanby and Lord Burgherst, were the chief directors. They were well got up and afforded quite an agreeable break in the monotony of Lent. The course was in the Cascine the Park of Florence, and there was fair display of dress, beauty and Equipage beside the horseracing, several gentlemen entertained the spectators by races on foot. Lord Charles Wellesley beat the young Prince Poniatously [spell?] 100 yards to 50 the latter gentleman being loaded by a stout fellow on his back, young Matthews son of the actor beat a Mr Nightingale in the same distance. A peasant was observed to be vending in the market, certain old black silver coins he was taken before a magistrate and they proved to be Roman, they imprisoned the poor fellow, and he confessed that upon digging upon a spot not distant he had struck upon a spot filled with the same and not being a leaseholder they were taken from him to the value of about 500 dollars. The coins have been examined and bear the marks of the Consulship of Scipio, Cicero ct. ct. They are supposed to have been hid in times of trouble, Fiesole was settled by a Roman Colony. I mean to remain here now as long as my circumstances will admit, but unless some new business offers you may see me on that side of the water in little more than a year. I beg you will remember me kindly to all of my friends, particularly to Allston – Believe me Dear M---n – yours.

                                                                                    Horatio Greenough


The group mentioned above was the Chanting Cherubs for Cooper, now in the Boston Atheneum.         In 1834 I found him in Paris and he took a seat in my barouche to Venice + Florence going in company of the Weymans + Whites of N. York + Florida and for four weeks I shared rooms with him in an Old Monastery near the Borgo Pinte in Florence, previous to my marriage.


            One morning I found Greenough in my apartment waiting for me in a considerable excited state, having just received a letter from Edward Everett counseling him by no means to make the statue of Washington in a nude state, but to clothe it. Greenough’s statue was already modeled and in gigantic proportions and as he said or rather swore at the time, precisely as Edward Everett in America had charged him for his credit sake to model it, enforcing upon him the remembrance that none of the ancient statues were clothed in the dress of their day, which appears to me in some degree a mistake, for Aristides and several others are clothed with the toga and as I now have the impression, the letter advised the Continental, to meet the expectation of his countrymen who were unaccustomed to Statuary.


            This letter had a wonderful effect of depression upon the artist for some days, and we really pitied him, for it would take a year to alter such a gigantic model (which he never did, entirely) farther than throwing a mantle around him some part. We think it has not generally met with the approbation of the present generation, but that a future one will do him full justice: the head is as fine as anything we have ever seen of Washington.


            An educated artist like Greenough ought never to consult merely literary men for as in this case they often change their minds and seldom any two think alike. I am well convinced that had Greenough in the beginning declined receiving any advice and followed his own judgment he would have accomplished a more acceptable work of art for the Government than the present one.


            With Clavenger I became acquainted through Mr Allston as the following letter will show, he was a young man of great promise, modest, of most unassuming bearing as I ever met with in one so talented, he was early removed by death leaving many warm friends in New England.


                                                                                    Cambridgeport 8th Sept. 1839.

Dear M---n.

                        I wish you very much to come and see a picture which I have lately finished, it has been seen and taken by Mr Phillips and it is in the highest degree gratifying to me to know that he was exceedingly pleased with it. It is a picture which you have never seen and I consider it one of my very best, it would give me pleasure to see Mrs M---n at my room at the same time. I am now sitting to Clavinger at my room for my bust he will make a capital likeness. as he indeed never fails to do. As I hear you are painting at Nahant I wish you would take a likeness of the Sea Serpent for me.

                                                                        Sincerely yours.

                                                                                    Wa. Allston


            I became acquainted with Crawford during his first visit to Boston which was previous to his marriage with Miss Ward. I never saw him after. I never saw Powers but once, when Daniel Webster meeting me in Pearl St. returned with me to the Athenaeum and introduced me to Powers who had been modeling his bust that morning. The marble of same is now in the New Athenaeum in Beacon Street, not a fair specimen of his work, in fact, we may infer from that and his statue of Webster, in front of the State House, both so inferior to Powers usual conceptions + performances that he did not feel or appreciate his work in either instance, and it may be equally said of the painters, no one has produced a head of Webster on canvass, giving general satisfaction since Stuarts.            Since transcribing the foregoing letter from Allson, I have received back a number of letters from Richard H. Dana, of Allston to me, which I loaned him at his request shortly after the death of Allston 1843. he then proposing to write his life, which from some reason or other he has failed to do.I herein copy one or two referring to his straits – at that time, and the small prices he obtained for pictures that since have been sold for thousands, for which he received hundreds, and also to show the high tone of character he exhibited in all he said or did. “Iassac the Jew” I purchased of him in time of his necessities and afterwards transferred to the Boston Atheneum, where it now is the price 300 dollars. I have not a doubt it would bring as many guineas in London tomorrow, and I judge so from the prices Leslies pictures are seeling, who was not the scholar poet or colorist that Allston was, have lately been sold for 1000 + 1500 guineas. And Allstons – “Jeremiah + Schedoni” have both been sold for seven times what he received for it, the latter five times, and the “Troubadorer” which I sold for him to the father of Mrs. Paine for 300 dollars I’ve no doubt would command three times that sum as a work of art should Mrs. P. wish to sell it. (Mr Bryant was a good appreciator of works of art.) It is sad to look back and recall his Allston’s necessities that hampered his abilities at a time when his mind was filled with strength and power of composition and then to recollect that he had hardly been cold in his grave before the rise of his wifes real estate would have made him easy in his circumstances for life, but such has been the destiny of many distinguished men before him.   

                                                                                                Newport R.I. 20th Oct. 1831

My dear Sir.

                        I beg you to receive my sincere thanks for your kind letter. I agree with you that the exhibition of Schedoni at Miss Scollay’s should be stopt, not only for the reason you give the probability of the picture being injured by the numbers who visit it, but on account of the great inconvenience which such a crowd must necessarily occasion Mrs + Miss Scollay making their house a thoroughfare. Will you mention this to Miss Scollay and say I think the exhibition ought to be closed. No one can be offended when these reason are assigned and especially when it is added (as I wish it might) how much I am gratified by the approbation the picture has received, moreover the picture is no longer mine having been paid for by Mr Ball’s agent Mr. R. Rogers before I left Boston, so that I have indeed no right to expose it to injury. So far I agree with you, and though I gratefully appreciate the kindness of your motive I cannot for several reasons, assent to your proposal as to exhibiting the picture for my benefit, since an application for this purpose could not be made to Mr Ball without entering into unpleasant explanations and leading him to think he had not given enough for it – which would distress me beyond measure, especially as not the slightest blame can or ought to be imputed to him in this business. Mr Ball never limited me either in price or subject but simply applied to me for a picture, leaving both to be determined by myself. This was about two years ago I had then Schedoni roughly sketched out on the canvas which I mentioned to him among other subjects; he chose Schedoni and I then named the price of it. Had I foreseen the time and labor it would cost I should certainly have named a different price, but I thought it at that time sufficient; and Mr B. without the slightest demur acceded to it. Now whether the picture is worth more or not, the engagement on the part of Mr Ball was entered into on the part of Mr Ball in most gentlemanly and honorable manner. I therefore consider myself doubly bound to rest satisfied and I say to you now frankly that I am satisfied. Whether I loose or gain I always make it a point of conscience never to repine at any contract which I have once made when the terms of this particular contract being exclusively of my own proposing I could not with a shadow of justice complain and I would not for any consideration appear even indirectly dissatisfied with it. It is therefore my express request that none of my friends apply to Mr. B--- for an exhibition of the picture in my behalf. Nay – I should be more mortified than I can express by such an application. Besides you well know that money (as much as I need it) has never been my prominent object. It was said of Paul Veronesa when he painted for Convents that he was sometimes paid half in money and half in masses.  In like manner I am sometimes contented to be paid part in money + part in praise.   I cannot conclude without again thanking you for the kindness of your letter, will you present my respects and best thanks to Mrs. + Miss Scollay – I expect to be in Boston about the end of next week. I am sorry to hear that your father continues so ill perhaps this fine weather may do much for him.

                                                Your sincere and obliged friend,

                                                            Wa. Allston


The above gentleman Mr Ball + his wife (nee Channing) were lost in a Steamer off Cape Hatteras coming in contact with another Steamer when on their passage to New York.


                                                                                       Cambridgeport Feb’y 11, 1834.

Dear Sir:-

                        I have come to the conclusion to lower the price of the Troubadore (being in want of money) from three hundred dollars as you have so kindly undertaken to act for

me in this my necessity, will you allow me to propose the following, first offer for two hundred eighty, which I an abatement of twenty dollars, if that should not be accepted then two hundred and fifty. I mean that the offer should be made to the gentleman who himself offered me two fifty. I wish you to understand however that sum is the lowest I will sell this picture for. If I cannot get that I have made up my mind to keep it. Will you be so good as to drop me a line by mail as soon as you shall have concluded the bargain if that is to be. I trust you need no additional assurance of the grateful sense I have of your kindness – ever sincerely yours.           

                                                Wa. Allston


I sold the above to John Bryant Jr. I am under the impression for 300 dlls.


During my life time I have been acquainted with many other artists as for instance Fisher + Doughty and Harding, of various power + fame all of whom with their works have contributed to my enjoyments and all of whom I have before mentioned in these reminiscences, and all of whom I have outlived. – also with Morse, Cheney, staig, Hoit and Charles Frazer an artist in minature, next to Malbone the first in the United States. – with the exception of Morse + Staig – all dead. ---


“Our Life, how short! A groan, a sigh:

We live, and then begin to die

But Oh! how great a mercy this,

That death’s a portal into bliss!”


“My Soul! death swallows up thy fears

My grave – clothes, wipe away all tears

Why should we fear this parting pain

Who die – that we may live again.


“All, All, on Earth is shadow – all beyond

            Is substance. The reverse is folley’s creed.

How solid all where change shall be no more.”


            It has been a very common practice in our Country to disparage the English + extol the French, it has been so for years, perhaps more apparent since the late rebellion than formerly. And this more particularly on account of the cold shoulder offered us during our troubles. But the French have surely been more faulty in their position at this period, than the English for the latter have only threatened, while the former has seized the opportunity to land an army on the American continent. This feeling of luke warmness towards England has led our Tourists to shorten our stay there on their way to the Continent, which also has been increased by the ungrateful returns our citizens have heretofore in former days received from certain mercantile agents sent out from England who have upon their return abused their hospitality by ridiculing us, but the real fault after all has been on our side by indiscriminately receiving into our houses, at our firesides, men who had little estimation in, and no access to the best society at home. This was evidently illustrated in 1820 & 1821 by an individual who came to Boston and was received into the family circle of one of our most respectable fellow citizens and who returning to England, published a most scurrilous account of this country, and who the following year, during my residence in London, accompanied by several of my fellow countrymen, we found selling gin by the glass in Haymarket street -           Until of late years we have seldom been visited by any foreigners, of a higher grade than merchants clerks. And when we were by such men as Lords Stanly + Morpeth I maintain that we had full, if not more than our due given us.

But this extreme toadyism, servile obeisance to foreigners has been heretofore one of our marked national characteristics, and I doubt not depreciating us in foreign estimation as regards the relative hospitality of the English + French nations. After a residence there of nearly three years, amongst the former and a greater number amongst the latter, I cannot allow myself to hesitation in deciding in favor of the former, the English to strangers are cold, stiff, phlegmatic + distant, but when once acquainted and find the subject worthy, hold on with the tenacity of their Bull dogs, ever ready to confer kindness, warm + generous in their friendships. The French on the other hand are flush with unmeaning politeness at first sight, but versatile and fickle, deserting one without any explanation, and entirely unreliable. The foregoing reflections call to mind my own personal experience of English hospitality, not only in one but several instances, and one wherein I had shown myself somewhat undeserving by my temper getting the better of me. I had one day taken the Box seat upon one of the numerous coaches plying between London + Salisbury in 1823. having paid the driver previously I left my rooms in Great Marlborough Street, early in the morning in a cab and was driven to the coach house in Piccadilly where to my great chagrin I found the seat occupied by a gentleman who refused to give it up, remonstrating with him and the driver without restitution, and the guard standing up and sounding his trumpet, all ready. I was obliged to take the only seat out of twelve unoccupied which happened to be directly behind and over the Box seat. The day was splendid without a cloud, but I was exceedingly irritated, and now and then ejaculated a remark about my paid for seat and let slip unthinkingly that I was sorry to be deceived in English courtesy I had heard so much of. I discovered at once that this remark drew the observation of those around me, wondering what country I hailed from, for the United States was not known to the masses as since, at that early date. After being three to four hours on the road, a heavy shower arose, and it rained as it usually does in England in torrents for a few moments. Opening my umbrella which projected over my friend who had taken the Box seat from me it nearly flooded him and drew remonstrance, being wet through + through in answer to which I quietly replied (enjoying his dilemma) you have wronged me out of my seat, but you shant drive me off the stage. Shortly after the sun emerged from the clouds creating that rich brilliancy in the foliage which the English woods alone are susceptible of, perfuming the air with flavor from the Hedges and raising all our spirits and crushing all animosities, our Box friend joining in to our hilarity + conversation on the back seat, and amongst others amicably addressing me, and ascertaining that I (as several of the others) was bound to the sale at Fonthill Abby, Mr Beckfords seat. At Salisbury, where we changed horses we found an elegant barouche, with four horses and outriders, awaiting our friend on the Box seat, who turning politely to me said Sir:- if you will take a seat in my carriage and go home and pass the night at my house, I will take you over to Fonthill in my carriage tomorrow morning. I was taken quite by surprise at this civility after my morning remarks, and thanking him most cordially, declined, as I had promised to meet a friend at Fonthill that evening. After he had left and we were on the road again turning to the driver I asked him how he could conscientiously take my money and desert me as he had, and not receiving a ready answer I asked him who the gentleman was and received for an answer, to the best of my recollection that it was Sir Charles Blount Member of Parliament, from that Country. Ah! says I, now I understand it.

            The antipathy the French + English have for each other I have in several instances seen strongly exhibited. In the Winter of 1818 in Washington I became acquainted with an English officer a Major Harvey who from some unfortunate affair (I am under the impression a duel) was obliged to absent himself + was then on his way to the Southern States hoping to pay a visit to general Jackson. I believe this officer was related to the Col Harvey who was attached to Wellingtons and who afterwards married Miss Caton this may have been conjecture arising from his having told me that the Duke was friendly to him and advised his leaving for a time. After his return from his visit to General Jackson I met him on the day of his arrival in New York where he had just come from his Bankers Peter Bemsen + Co, and he showed me a newspaper of Liverpool in which was an account of his groom’s having been running one of his horses at a Public Race, he was very much vexed. I recollect he expressed himself delighted with General Jackson with whom he staid several days – I renewed my acquaintance with this officer meeting him in Paris several years after – in 1824 and walking the Boulevards des Italians arm in arm with him one day I was in great fear of being momentarily insulted – so bitter and threatening were the scowls and expressions of the faces of the French in passing us at first I did not surmise the cause of such marked want of courtesy, but turning to left side of my friend I found he had the Legion of Honor Ribbon on his left breast (which he had received at the occupation of Paris) I begging him to take it of which he did, there was a renewal of invitation in Paris at this time from the debate in Parliament against and in opposition to the advance into Spain of the French Troops under the Duke D’Angouleme, and the French were still writhing under Waterloo reminiscences, as they always will be until it is wiped off.


The major was a very handsome man + a good specimen of a gentleman, as I did not return to London again for many years we never met again . . . . .


            An article in the Evening Transcript of Dec. 1867 recalls to memory a dinner party given in the fall of 1824 (now forty four years ago) at the Old Exchange Coffee House in Devonshire St. (Kept at that time by Col. Hamilton) by a number of us gentlemen just returned from Europe, for the purpose of keeping up friendships contracted Abroad. Amongst the number was the Late John Everett – Secretary at that time to General Dearborn our Minister at Portugal and several other Bostonians and among the invited guests were the late Benjamin Pollard and Henry J. Finn, the former Dramatic Editor at that time of the Saturday Evening Gazette. We are under the impression that it was at this dinner, that John Everett asking of Finn the quality of the goose before him received for answer it is as good a goose as I ever et. During the dessert a discussion was entered into between Finn and one of the returned Travelers (a descendant of a former governor of N. Hampshire as regarded the ability of the latter to walk twenty five miles in five consecutive hours, which he assured he was able to accomplish, in which discussion we all took more or less interest, and led to betting as we were impressed pro- + - con.  Finn a suit of clothes – others numerous bottles of champagne.


    To our no little surprise our fellow traveler accomplished the feat three or four days after on a piece of ground measured off on the mill Dam. commencing commencing on the bend leading to Brighton surrounded by a number of carriages and equestrians drawn from Boston by curiosity, from whom after politely taking off hate and politely bowing he walked off to Mr Lymans place at Waltham.


    The gentleman was John Langdon Elwyn of Portsmouth, he died February 1876.

In the London Examiner of Dec. 7, 1867 I read under the head of Statistic of Travel an account of a Kings Messenger Mr Hudson having been dispatched by the Duke of Wellington in 1834 after Sir Robert Peel at Rome to recall him to take office in the New Cabinet, and that it took the messenger 12 days and cost 250 L’s  to carry him to Rome, and that the ordinary Post occupied 18 days – distance 1300 miles and that the first class fare between London and Rome at the present time by rails was only 13 L’s. Leaving London at 7 O’clock Monday morn, and arriving at Rome Tuesday at 12 o’clock at night. 36 hours. The above statement arrested my attention independent of the statistics, from my having been with my wife and family in the Hotel with Sir Robert Peel at Pisa where the messenger overtook him.


George the 4th


An incident is recalled to memory as having occurred during my residence in Great Marlborough Street London of which I have no recollection of ever having seen in print. It must have been in the summer o f1823 or 1824 as I resided in Castle Street in 1822 and returned to America in 1825. A fire broke out at midnight in the Blue Room (so called) of Carlton Palace which was a long one storied marble structure, with heavy marble pillars in front, standing (as I am under the impression) where the Duke of York’s Monument now stands, with its gardens bordering on St. James Park. The King was about retiring for the night when the flames burst forth, illuminating the grounds around; and half undressed catching up a mantle in the entry and the first hat near, he sallied forth proceeding to the extreme end of the grounds to avoid observation and to obtain a good view of the fire. While standing in the shade under the trees, he was seized upon by the sentries and led to the guard house at the corner of the Palace, unable to explain or extricate himself so entirely overcome by risibility at the extreme awkwardness of his situation, when reaching the guard house he of course was immediately recognized to the horror of the sentries. The next morning my landlord Mr Klose a German purveyor to the King went personally to the Palace and learned the above from the domestics, and returning came into my apartments and informed me of it. An account of the fire can be found in the Morning Chronicle + Times Papers of that date but I am under the impression that no mention was made at that time or ever after of the Kings Adventure, probably suppressed by his order, as he was exposed to many squibs being extremely unpopular from his conduct to ye Queen and the papers were twisting and turning everything to his disadvantage.


                                                March 12th 1868

Enter my seventy fourth year this day.


“Blest is the tranquil hour of Morn,

And blest the hour of solemn eve.

When on the wings of prayer upborne.

The World I leave.”

                                                                                                       How many heart

stirring reflections, doth the Birth Day, year after year, bring back, of resolutions unfulfilled, promises broken, duties unperformed, friendships severed, and

alas, how many companions each year removes, until we are left solitary and alone.

“Praise be God, that we know not our end. Praise the Lord, O my Soul! all within me praise his holy name.”


The Jura Mountains.


            It was during the Autumn of 1853 that I made an engagement with a young American friend, Mr. J. T. C.------- then resident of Geneva, for a pedestrian tour to the Jura Mountains. It had been my own good fortune to have crossed that picturesque range, in fair weather, some twenty years previous, which had created a strong desire to visit them once more, with the hopes of penetrating further into their recesses although since that time I have been a resident amongst the highest Pyrennees and the Bernese Alps, never have my eyes rested on a view so extensively gorgeous and magnificent as that from the Dole. If a fair day is granted when arriving at the summit, the whole Lake of Geneva – forty two miles in length, lies within the grasp of the eye, and if it be the fall of year (as happened on my first visit) the richness and splendour of the dark purple blue of the Lake, in contrast with the Kaleidoscope variety of the foliage of the neighboring Banks, relieved in the distance by a long range of snow clad Alps.  Mont Blanc towering in the centre seems to leave nothing for the imagination to supply. Owing to the introduction of Rails, this range is no longer a thoroughfare from France, as formerly, and in fact some of the most celebrated views in Europe are being cut off from future travelers by the introduction of Rail Roads. It was of a clear autumnal day in the latter part of October, that my young friend Mr. C. met me (as agreed upon) half way up the Lake, at Nyron, from which with our knapsacks and mountain spikes we commenced our ascent of the Juras arriving at the hamlet of St. Cergues at the close of the day, having enjoyed at interrupted view f the Lake and distant Alps the whole way. After passing the night at Tissot’s Chalet a small but comfortable resting place, we arose the next morning to witness to our great discomfiture, an impenetrable mist and fog, abolishing all of our plans of visiting the Dole, and despairing of any immediate change in the weather we concluded to push on to the Lac de Joux which situated on this range is some thirty five hundred feet above the level of the sea. Surrounded by the most romantic scenery, having on one side Mt. Teudre, five thousand feet high, from the sides of which can be seen Mont Blanc on the one side, and the old city of Soleure on the other. The night after leaving St. Cergues we slept at St. Rousses the frontier town where the French Douane is, and the next day lunched at Valoibe where we found the mountaineers having a fete and amongst other Tomfooleries was a man on horse – back drest up like Napoleon the first, parading through the street. We slept that night at Arbe, interesting to Americans not only for its magnificent position, commanding views of the Bernese Alps, and the Lake of Neuehatel, but also for its Historical traditions, and for being the birth place of their distinguished fellow citizen Professor Agassez. The Scenery along the whole range from St. Cergues to Orbe, keeping as close to the ridge as possible, ascending one day, and descending the next, passing on the Borders of the Lac de Jours, is one of continued uninterrupted enjoyment and excitement, particularly at the season when the bracing mountain air, with cool mornings + evenings supplied more than usual buoyancy of spirits.          The music of the Cow bells and the “Ranz de Vaches”with other airs played by mountaineers on their reeds stir up one’s feelings in these Alpine Mountain heights which no where else can be experienced and in after life not easily forgotten, carrying our thoughts back to Pastoral Life as described by Virgil. We cannot but regret that the Tunnel of the Mount Cenis and the railroad round the Jura’s will greatly diminish the number of Tourists who can enjoy Switzerland’s finest views hereafter for with the stoppage of travel the accommodations on the mountain cannot be maintained as here to fore. Leaving the great old City of Orbe with its bridges and views and historical traditions, my friend and myself descended via Lansanne to the quiet old Chateau of Lactour near Chillon on the Lake of Geneva, finishing our expedition to our perfect satisfaction with the exception of missing the View from the Dole.

St. Memin Portraits.


Whilst residing at No 1. Hamilton Place I received August 28th 1860 the following letter.

                                                                                                   New York. Aug 27, 1860

J.--- M----s Esq.


                                    By examining the circular sent with this, you will more fully understand the nature of my application. I wish to obtain a short biographical sketch of your father to accompany the portrait, which is a small circle taken in profile (catalog No 452) I should like to know if you have such a portrait in the family the collection has been in France for the last fifty five years in possession of the artists who engraved them and I find that many of the families know nothing of their existence.

                        Respectfully yours.

                                    Elias Dexter 562 Broadway


I find endorsed upon this letter that Sept 13. /60 I sent him the requested biographical memoir – compiled as I imagine it to have been from the notices of my late father after his decease in 1831. About a month after receiving this letter my venerable friend the late President Quincy sent a request to see me and I found that he also had received a similar letter and also one of the unknown engravings with the application to Mr Quincy to inform the publisher who it was, as several were without any names affixed to them. Mr Quincy being at a loss, and thinking I might recognize it sent for me. I decided it was intended for the late Com. Stephen Decatur in an undress uniform and so I now find it has been placed and memorized in the book. It being about the commencement of our civil war, and having two sons about me, one in college and one preparing, occasioning me many anxieties about the future struggle, and during many pleasant interviews I had with Mr Quincy afterwards never hearing him refer to the Profiles, they passed entirely from my memory (to my present recollection) never having mentioned the receipt of the letter to any one of my friends, and until the present month August 3 /68 I was ignorant of having such a letter when undertaking to clear out a trunk contg Bills + Letters of many years past with the intention of burning them. I found it and enclosed it to my son Herbert, not however with the idea of hearing anything more of it, for the five years civil war and changes made by it, in business, and the lives of many business men, suggested the probability of no such book having been published and doubts as to the existence of the proposed publisher.


            To my great surprise my son answered me that Mr Dexter occupied the same store Broadway and that he had published the hundred copies proposed and had sold them all but three or four copies at seventy five dollars per copy and would sell the remaining few copies for forty each. I did not hesitate to send him the money and have congratulated myself since, for it has brought to remembrance many early friends at the south, particularly in Richmond who were kind to me upon my first visit in 1818 viz – The Bells, Wickhams, Marshalls, Gables, Haxalls, Chevaliers + Randolphs. The likeness of many are excellent. Also many Baltimore acquaintances (of later date) made by me. I esteem it as a book that will increase in value as our Country increases in population, and Historical traditions become of value in our schools. It is not likely to be republished as the plates must be worn by time.


[In Mason’s own handwriting at the bottom of the page: “I gave it to the Geneological + Historical Society in 1876.”]


Letter Received from Col. Tod.

After my arrival in America.



                                                                                    Rome April 9th 1835

My Dear Sir:-

                        That you may sometimes recall us to memory, I add a memo to my publishers desiring them to hand a copy of my Book to your order of which I beg your acceptance. It is not exactly a companionable book, being two huge Quarto’s but you will be able to give it Sea – room, and if you are fond of enquiring into the original habits of man you will find something therein congenial to your taste I trust. At all events the engravings of the most ancient remains of these little known regions, of which there are some dozens by the best engravers of London, will please and perhaps offer something for your pencil. This will be handed you by M.S. of whom as well as your sister + family we had just commenced to know enough to make us regret their loss. You will think of us sometimes and if you will give us tidings of your safe arrival you will confer a gratification and have a kindred return, my wife unites with me in every kind wish to you and yours, and I am, my dear cousin

                                                Most cordially yours

                                                                             James Tod.


            Robarts Curtis +Co.

            #15 Lombardy Street, London.


Col. Tod. fell while presenting a check at the Banking House of the above firm the same year, and never spoke after.

Probably apoplexy.


The English Gentleman’s Magazine of that time contains an elaborate memoir of him.


“The world may call herself my foe,

So be it; for I trust her not;

E’en though a friendly face she show,

And heap with her good things my lot.

In thee alone will I rejoice,

Thou art the friend, Lord, of my choice,

For thou art true when friendships fail;

Midst storms of woe thy truth is still

My Anchor; hate me as it will

The world shall o’er me ne’er prevail.”


                        I cannot close these remembrances of my experiences during (what may now be called) a long pilgrimage, without reference to, and some mention made of those friends, who have shown disinterested friendship towards me unrequited by anything, I individually have had it in my power to offer. To my friend Wm. A---y who has been my warm friend, for now over one third of a century, I feel deeply indebted for many acts of kindness of a nature that I have never asked or been offered by those, of whom, by affinity I had a right to ask them, and I trust those who succeed me, will bear in mind this acknowledgement. To another gentleman deceased, bearing the same initials, the late Wm. Ap----n whose philanthropy is a bye word, whereon the actions of the good and righteous are spoken of. I was deeply indebted for the kind interest shown by him for my late gallant son; who was by and through his influence and that of his successor another kind friend Mr S--- H--- appointed to a commission and to an important Battery in the regular service and to the latter gentleman who proved a warm and serviceable friend to my son during his great and long sufferings. To still another friend who has shown an interest in me and mine A---s L----ce I feel deeply obliged an inheritor of his late fathers virtues with an unsparing hand he contributed right and left to the comforts of others.


            Sir Walter Scott, I believe it was who in some of his writings remarks that the death of friends often relieves us of obligations, and in that view has a consoling effect. I cannot subscribe to such a sentiment, for the older I grow and the more I contemplate upon the depravity of our nature, the more warmly I feel and the more highly I estimate the kindnesses of those living and deceased who have softened the asperities of my past life by their friendship.




Amongst several letters received from my honoured and esteemed friend the late President Quincy, (now in my letter book) I transcribe the following relating to Col. Tod. mentioned in these recollections


My Dear Sir:-

                        Many thanks for your loan of Tod’s India. It is a work worthy of great praise, and places in high relief the authors hand head and heart; evidencing the truest feelings and the best spirit. I have derived from it great pleasure and much information and am truly your obliged friend

                                    + servt.

                                             Josiah Quincy


22d. Jan’y 1847

Beacon Hill


End. Vol. II. [in his own handwriting: “End –

of the original 2 Volumes.



The three original columns in my

handwriting of Lee’s”

much additional writing is crossed out and illegible]

[many crossed out and illegible words]


[illegible word] for Christ


“We wait for thee, All glorious One!

We look for thine appearing;

We bear thy name, and on the throne

We see thy presence cheering.

            Faith ever now.

            Uplifts its brow.

And sees the Lord descending

And with him bliss unending




We wait for thee through day forlorn

     In patient self denial

We know that thou our guilt hath bourn

     Upon thy cross of trial

            And well may we

            Submit with thee

To bear the cross and love it,

Until thy hand remove it.



We wait for thee, already thou

Hast all our hearts submission;

And though the spirit sees thee now

     We long for open vision;

            When ours shall be

            Sweet rest with thee,

And pure unfading pleasure,

And life in endless measure.



We wait for thee with certain hope –

The time will soon be over:

With childlike longing we look up

            Thy glory to discover.

            O bliss! to share

            Thy triumph there

When home with joy and singing

The Lord his Saints is bringing.”


Hiller (German.)

Gioacchino Rossini.


                                                                        The death of this celebrated composer is stated by the marine telegraph to have taken place November 14th 1868 in Paris – born at Pesaro a small village 1792 on the Gulf of Venice; he had at the time of his death completed his seventy seventh year; the notice in the paper recalled to mind an evening passed at the Italian Opera in London in the year 1822, where accompanied by my friend T. R. Curtis, then on his way to Russia; (who had called at my rooms to ask me to accompany him he having just arrived) we saw Rossini at the piano in the Orchestra accompanying Madam Catalini in his celebrated Opera Tancredi, which was written in Venice in 1813 when he was only 21 years of age, and which was wonderfully successful all over Europe, and perhaps equally so were his Barbiere de Seviglia, Otello, Mose in

Egitto, Guillaume Tell, and last work Stabat Mater.                    Excessively vain, and living in luxurious retirement for the last thirty years of his life, he was visited, and courted and Eulogized by the elite of the musical world, the melancholy part of his history is (as the paper states) he had passed his entire life in disbelief of religion, and when drawing near his close, sent for a Priest and died as the account states in the greatest agony.         It was during the performance of the before mentioned Opera of Taneredi, that Curtis + myself and the audience were greatly amused at seeing Madam Catilini stamp her foot for Rossini to accompany her faster, he playing his own composition the truth was, she added so many trills + shakes not in his music that he would not keep up with her, and she was the spoiled child of the musical world at that period, and it was his first year in London then a young man but 31.


            The Ballet after this Opera introduced to a London audience the celebrated dancer mademoiselle Mercandotti who was said to have been a daughter of the Earl of Fife, by an Italian Lady and who shortly after married Hughes Ball the rich commoner called the golden Ball and I perfectly recall to mind the caracatures of St. James Street representing the Earl fifing – arrayed in his Scotch plaid, Mademoiselle Mercandotti dancing, and Hughes Ball near by, emptying a horn of Sovereigns.


“The hairs of your head are all numbered, fear ye not therefore.”

Matthew 10-31


                                    It was in the month of June – of the year Eighteen hundred and thirty nine, that leaving our cottage one afternoon at Nahant, and going to Salem, upon our return late in the afternoon, my wife and myself had our attention arrested by a gathering of many persons, men + women, in the road, not far from the Marblehead depot, upon stopping my horse to enquire the cause, we were informed that a little girl, not three years of age had wandered from home and been missing every since four o’clock, it was then near seven, it had been brought down from the centre of Lynn, to visit an armt near there, and had strayed away when unobserved, the excitement and  anxiety was very great, more particularly as there was every appearance of a stormy + tempestuous night. – I cannot easily forget the anxious thoughts that occupied our minds during the remainder of our ride home, and in fact, the whole night, while hearing the wind and the rain pouring down upon our cottage.  Early the next morning upon riding over to Lynn. I was informed, that it had been found after day break that morning by the barking of a dog up to its waist in mud, in a ditch in the adjoining meadow.


            Seventeen years after when visiting Lynn solitary and alone, bereft of her who was my fellow sympathizer in the former scene, I enquired about the above child + was informed that she was living in the person of Miss Ingalls, a resident at Lynn, a seamstress. 1854.


“All this passing scene

Is a peevish April day;

A little sun, a little rain,

And then death sweeps along the plain,

And all things pass away . . .”


                                                        Steamer Massachusetts 1840 . . .

            The death of Charles Crafts aged 84 mentioned in the Daily Advertiser Decr. 9th, 1868 brings forcibly back to my remembrance, a scene that took place on board the Steamboat “Massachusetts.” on the sound in 1840 – June 30th.


Mr Crafts formerly was Box keeper at the Old Federal Street Theater, which was very nearly opposite to the late Dr. W. E. Channing Church and of which newspaper remarks were made in those days, of its being doubtful, which would get the ascendency the church or the Theatre, Dr Channing being in the height of his celebrity and the celebrated Edmund Kean playing at the Theatre. Upon the taking down of the building Mr Craft was employed for a time we believe at the new Theatre in Tremont Street but at the period we allude to 1840 he had become agent for the sound steam boats at Boston. Having been well and long acquainted with him, during his Box Office employment, my connections being numerous and I their agent in procuring tickets, I always found him exceedingly obliging, and when in his new employment took advantage of it in procuring tickets for the sound steamers when removing my family to New York which I did most every other summer for a succession of years. Having made arrangements in May of the above mentioned year 1840, to go to the North River to pass the summer, I had taken the precaution to go personally to Mr Craft to ask him questions relative to the Boats, their Captains +c. having a family of four young children one only a month old, it was an object to select a day, when they would be likely to carry the fewest passengers; and I may here observe that the Boats were not crowded in those days, as now, and some days of the week, hardly paid their expenses. Mr Crafts very kindly notified of a day, the thirtieth of June and reserved for my family, two of the largest and best State Rooms of the Steamer Massachusetts. Capt. Comstock and recommended my joining the Boat in the morning at Providence, where she lay, in preference to going late in the afternoon to Stonington, to which Port the Boat went around, to take in her passengers, all of which under ordinary circumstances was judicious advice. I also procured through the civility of a friend a railroad director a separate car for my family. The day opened without a cloud and I concluded that we had a fair chance of an easy and pleasant passage, but the best exertions do not always insure the best returns, as was experienced in the present instance, we had not been seated at the Rail Road depot five minutes in our car, before our cars were assailed by the clamor of a fight between two of a party of about twenty sailors, paid off that day from the Frigate “Columbia.”


            After it was quelled by the interference of the Rail Road agents, they took these seamen out of the general car in front, and put them in a separate car by themselves attached to mine. I remonstrated but while so doing, the Bell rang and off we started, however independent of horrible profanity, hallowing, and holding out their handkerchiefs out of the windows as flags, all of which rather amused my children, we suffered no inconvenience during our two hours ride to Providence, nor until we arrived and entered the Boat, when some of them, the least sober began troubling the Captain + clerk, having had tickets sold them at the depot in Boston as Cabin passengers, and upon being ordered out of the Cabin, could not understand why. After some little show of fight, the Captain pacified them, and we proceeded with a headwind + much swell round Point Judith to Stonington where we waited until half past nine in anxious expectation for the 4 o’clock cars from Boston, which ought to have been in at half past eight, losing thereby our chance of getting out as the tide became adverse, and an impenetrable fog sprang up; finally a tremendous shouting and clamor advised us of the approaching train and we were not a little alarmed at finding it filled in addition to its usual number of passengers – with one hundred and fifty sailors who had been paid off that day in Boston from the Frigates “Columbus” and “John Adams” just returned from a three years cruise in the Pacific Ocean, and let loose from all restraint + discipline, particularly such severe discipline, as Commodore Reed is said to have exercised; all of them swearing the most horrible oaths that meet him where they would, they would take his life. It so happened that one of the family of Cap’t. Comstock (so lately distinguished as engaged in the Rebellion) as captain of the “Baltic” Gov’t. Vessel) being sick, he had persuaded a brother officer, Captain Woolsey to take hi place for that trip, who unacquainted with the hands, found himself in an unexpected and not very agreeable predicament, requiring great judgment, great energy, and resolution to prevent disaster to vessel and passengers: boarded thus suddenly and unexpectedly by one hundred and seventy sailors discharged and paid off that morning from a United States Frigate just in from a three years cruise in the Pacific Ocean. The prospect ahead I found viewed with great apprehension of riot and probable risk to the boat, by gentlemen who had no one but themselves to look after, many of whom expressed the wish (so of whom I believe did) to leave the Boat at Stonington as for the prospect of sleep or rest for anyone with such a number of drunken sailors on Board, it was out of the question. Could I have obtained my baggage which consisted of many trunks which were put in at Boston and locked up deliverable at New York only, and which the Captain said he could not get at or deliver having no authority from the Rail Road Agents, and more particularly in a crowded Boat like that – I would have left the Boat at Stonington. ---


At the solicitation of the Boston Passengers amongst whom was the Rev. Dr. stone of Boston, the Captain closed the bar and promised that they should not get any more liquor, but this was of little importance while the Boat was tide bound to the wharf for they kept going and coming continually from the town of Stonington – as intoxicated as they possibly could be without falling, and the Captain told me in the morning he had been running all night from one part of the Boat to the other stopping fights and with all of his exertions, had not been able to prevent them from half killing a man who had followed them from Boston – to (from circumstances that transpired we have little doubt) plunder them, they caught his hand in pocket of one of them, and they immediately knocked him from one to the other until his life appeared gone, when the Captain rescued him + sent him ashore, all but a corpse, his cries were heard all over the Boat and this was about midnight, shortly after, the tide allowing, the Captain got his Boat detached from the wharf to prevent them from going and coming from shore, and to prepare for dawn. There were about seventy other passengers on Board, all of whom, expressed fears of the morrow, when we should be at sea with these fellows some feared that during their contention with the Captain, to open his Bar they might take the Boat; the Captain told me that if the passengers would stand by him, let the worst come, he thought he could manage them; but that nothing should ever catch him in such a scrape again.       At one period of the night hearing a row, near the ladies Cabin I went out and found four or five, directly of our State Room, which was next to the door of the Ladies Cabin, swearing they would come in, they had paid full fare, and would have as good as any, behind them was the stair filled with comrades all of them just come from the town as drunk as they could stand. There was no time for reflection but clapping my arm round the waist of the one at the head of the stairs, which could only hold one at a time, and gently turning him round, I said soothingly, my good fellow, American Sailors never disturb women and small children, were there men in there you might go in and turn them out, but there are only females and small children. I shall never forget the fishy look of that mans vacant stare, he was so intoxicated, but giving a hurrah he piched down among his comrades driving them back, halloing “We’ll stand by them!”             It was lucky I happened to be near for with one step more, they would have been in the Cabin where the nurses and children had all retired to sleep, and fortunately did not hear the parley. The next morning when under way the fog so dense that we could not see the length of the Boat, one of them still intoxicated made his way into the cabin where the children were eating their bread and milk, he was a savage looking fellow, and held in his hand a large Sandwich Island tattooed club, his eyes were half closed and he did not appear to know where he was. I was immediately called and by coaxing + a play of soft expressions got him out when he became pugnacious to those outside – there is always danger in being near sailors when drunk for they never seem to be particular who they attack, if a man at a distance insults them, they are apt to knock down the nearest one to them, as the most handy – We all sympathized and felt for two officers, who were accidentally, as ourselves, on board with these seamen, and who kept quiet, and out of the way in the gentleman’s Cabin, and would have remained so, but for the officiousness of a man by the name of Baker from Boston, who appeared to be very active in exciting them in their threats and imprecations against Comd. Reed and those they had served under, telling them that the people would support them. Suddenly one of the Crew espied the officers, and they all immediately surrounded and abused them, shaking their firsts in their faces and proceeding to every degree of insult but striking, we standing by fearing every moment that they would strike and lives would be taken and a general melee follow. The Captain with great resolution and rapidity of action, fearlessly stept in between them, and ordered the sailors out of the cabin – Cumstock himself could not have behaved better or more resolutely. The Officers said they were armed and would have acted promptly, the consequence can hardly be imagined should such an issue have occurred no one can undertake to say what such a beginning might have led to with men half drunk one hundred and seventy in number, just out from a Frigate, from three years cruise + confinement, having suffered as they said they did, under their Captain. One man told me that Captain Reed had flogged men on one side of the ship, while four or five were lying dead on the other side, we must make allowances for what sailors say when intoxicated but I had heard often from officers that Captain Reed was a sever disciplinarian. We arrived at New York on the second day at 5 O’clock in the afternoon: we are led to believe that our safety is to be attributed to the Captains hauling his Boat the first night off from the wharf into the stream when the tide rose and delayed starting before daylight, the intermediate time serving to quiet and render sober the men, as it was, the Captain said they had set fire to the steamer in three places, during the night out of mere viciousness, but the stoppage of liquor brought them all tot heir senses before morning with or two exceptions, and no passengers could have behaved with more quietness and decorum than they did the remainder of the passage after Eleven AM on one of the finest unclouded days of the latter part of June, when all seated in rows on the fore part of the Bow of the Boat, hardly a sound was heard from them until we passed around the Flag Ship “Franklin” 74 lying off Castle Garden when they rose up with three cheers that must have been heard at the Astor House ___” ___” ___”


[in his own handwriting:

“These lines headed the Past Article

in the Original . . .”]


“We sow in tears; but let us keep

Our faith in God, and trust him still;

Yonder on harvest we shall reap

Where gladness every heart and mouth shall fill

            Such joy is there

No mortal tongue its glory can declare,

A joy that shall endure, changeless + deep + pure

That shall be ours if here the cross we bear.”


            It was in the summer of 1846 during a hot spell in August, when located with my family on the Hudson River, I propose to my wife a visit of a few days to the seaside at Rockaway, we had suffered excessively from the heat, the cool air seeming to confine itself to the river, which is likely to be the case where the neighboring Banks are high, and in fact, rivers are not very desirable places on whose banks cool air is to be sought. [unintelligible words]

We left Bloomingdale in our Carriage the 18th of August, and crossing East River and passing through Jamaica a beautiful village of nursery and flower gardens in those days (for who can forget Prince the Florist) arrived at Rockaway to a late dinner, where we had the good fortune of meeting several of our New York friends and acquaintances, amongst others Ogden Hoffman + wife, Dr. Francis and wife, The Jays, and De Witt Clinton Moses H. Grimel, Leroy’s and Emmets, all persons of note and high standing. Alas! Whilst writing this how changed appears new York, what substitutes for these names appear on her records! This 1st of January 1869. and where are all of those, with her, who accompanied me?


“Dear beauteous death! The jewel of the just:

Shining no where but in the dark,

What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust?

Could man outlook that mark.”


                        During our sojourn there a most melancholy loss of life occurred through carelessness on the part of bathers; a young lady and a gentleman to whom she was betrothed, and the lady’s brother and wife, all staying at a neighboring Hotel, went into bathe, and the undertow being very great, and they venturing out too far, the lady was drowned, we met the brother + wife returning to Jamaica to bury her, and the ladies

account of the transaction was most heart touching. It appeared that the ladies claimed knowing how to swim (a dangerous accomplishment for ladies in such a place as Rockaway, where the undertow at certain tides makes it perilous even for our sex) which led them to venture out beyond their depth, and with garments like theirs no man would buffet the surf. They became entangled in a swell lost their footing and found difficulty in reaching the shore again. After a quarter of an hour’s shrieking for help, nearly drowning her companion she sank to rise no more alive. The brother addressing me in the most excited manner said, “For God’s, Sir, don’t let your wife go in.”


            I should feel very anxious I must confess, were I or my family frequenters of Rockaway, for they say there is scarcely a season that some one is not drowned, As a watering place I think it is very dangerous; and in every respect, with the exception of the extent of view of the Ocean, far inferior to Newport; nor has it of late been popular with the New Yorkers, who are filling up Newport very fast, which bids fair to become the Brighton of America. We returned to the Banks of the Hudson and finally to Boston October the 5th after a very hot summer.

Villa Scherer

On the Pelerin Mountain. Swiss



                                                                             It was a beautiful fair day of the autumn of 1853 that accompanied by my daughters and the two Miss Barlees; daughters of my late esteemed pastor and friend that we ascended to the Pelerin over looking Vevay and the Lake of Geneva, with the intention of a ramble and visit to the Villa Scherer, magnificently located on its side, commanding a most extensive view of Lake Leman and the range of Alps including the Dents due Midi with its snow covered tops, the Mont Catone, Le tete Noir, St. Bernard + Mont Velan, in front and on the left the range of the Bernese Alps the Des Moeles, Mt. des Effeuilleusis, Mt. d’Avel, + Mont de Sonchaux overtopping Chillon + Hotel Byron.


            The reflection of these Mountains and the snow clad tops of the Dents du midi, in the purple and dark blue waters of the Lake below, presented a fairy scene; It afforded a most splendid exhibition of Alpine Scenery, and the house itself of Modern build seemed to embrace all that one could wish of elegance and comfort as regarded convenience, situation and prospect, without a rival, with furniture of dark oak + walnut, Ottomans + chairs of the newest fashion, curtains, and a Library containing some hundreds of choice books, in fact everything to be found in a palace. This mansion was built by a Mon. Scherer a native of the Canton of Aargan, a gentleman of ample fortune, expressly for two daughters who had imbibed a strong partiality for this particular Situation, he had spared no expense both on the grounds + mansion to meet their wishes, he is said to have doted upon them his only children, he resided there two years when both were taken from him in one summer, he and his wife had fled the spot, and had not been there since. While sitting in the Summer House and listening to this romantic, melancholy story the splendour of the distant alps tinged by a glorious sunset, deeply stirred me and brought some lines before me I had lately read.


“Mais j’aime mieux encore, couche sur la verdure

Du haut du Pelerin, au decline d’un beau jour,

Admirer du bleu lac l’elegante cour lure,

Image de la lune au temps de sou retour,

Et nose Monts itlant la brililante ceinture,

            Grie forme notre heureux sejour.”


In the grave yard of St Martins are the following superscriptions upon two slabs.


Eliza = agee de 16 ans, et 9 mois,

            “Souviers toi ton creature des les jours de la jeu neus avant les jours mauvais viennent.”    Eccle. VII. I.

“Ju puis tout pas Christ qui me fortifie.” Phil. IV. 13.



Lydia = agee de 19 ans et 10 mois.

            “Le seigneur lui ouvit le cocur, afin qu’elle se rendit attentive aux chases que Paul disait crois au Seigneur Jesus Christ et tu suras sauve.” Acts 16. 14.



Lines suggested by my visit


Upon a mountains rugged side

I clep’d the Pelerin;

There stands a mansion high and wide,

Without a soul within.


Its lofty dome, and gilded halls,

Its terrace long, and broad;

Its groves of fir, and spacious stalls

Bespeak the noble lord.



Beneath in front Lake Leman lies,

Its dark blue waters run,

Beyond, the Alps in glory rise,

Tinged by the setting sun.



A noble sire, with daughters two,

Bless’d with a mother’s care,

Had sought this spot so fair in view,

To breath the mountain air.



And here he let his fancies rove,

And all that wealth could give,

He placed within this spacious grove,

As though he ere should live.



His daughters two, both young and fair,

The idols of his heart,

He twined around his breast with care,

As though they n’er could part.



Alas sad man! One summer’s day,

No cloud was in the Heaven,

Death came and took them both away

And that poor heart was riven.


[in his own handwriting:

“to be omitted”]


            In the several volumes of these Recollections I have made mention of an English clergyman, myself and children had the pleasure of meeting at Interlachen at the house of Piere Ober, our good landlord 1852 – The Rev. Mourant Brook – who had been passing the winter at Nice – on account of his health; being the only boarder besides ourselves we soon became quite interested in him, finding him kind and attentive and sympathizing with our recent affliction; he was a gentleman of polished manners, with a large Parish at Bathe – England, which he had been obliged to leave in the Winter to go South for a warmer climate’ after his return to England I received several letters from him with a pressing invitation to visit him at Bath; and when I passed through England two years after upon my return to my own country he telegraphed me in London asking me with my children to pay him a visit at Bath for which we had not time, having engaged our passage.


            The previous year he had addressed me. I having notified him of my intention of crossing the Alps and visiting Venice, with some intention of going to Dresden for the following winter residence.


1853 April 28. Park St. Bath

My Dear Friend,

                        It gave me much pleasure to see and read your kind letter; as my heart was at first much drawn to you and your dear children, so does it remain fixed. I take great interest in all that concerns you be assured. But your letter also much disappoints me for I had hoped we should have spent together some weeks, perhaps some months this summer: yes, for I shall probably go the end of June to Thurm to take charge of the English Church there, as I did last year of the one at Interlachen. I was about to write you on the subject when your letter came, Judge therefore of my disappointment, for I was going to suggest to you, if you could not spend part of the summer there and also help me as my church Warden, but perhaps on your return from Germany we may meet, I hope so. My stay at Thurm will be I suppose to the middle of September when either I might go for a little tour South of the Alps or else return direct home. In the latter case we might perhaps meet somewhere on the Rhine. But my plans then are doubtful. Much however I desire to see you but in all things we must await God’s Providence. I am glad you have had a quiet winter. In regard to the matter Ecclesiastical I agree with you quite as to thinking that if young people are prepared in the sight of God to go to his table, there is no reason why they should not, as far as their not being confirmed is concerned, If they have an opportunity of being confirmed, by all means let them use it, as a good and useful rite of their church, not to be rejected but if they cannot avail themselves of it, that need not at all keep them from the table of the Lord.

            I also quite agree with you as to the matter political – viz – that America + England, should be more + more closely united. I shall not be surprised to see a League against liberty and the religion of Jesus with a priest the Pope at its head ere long, and then who are to meet it but those two nations, the times in this view are I think very serious But our trust is in the Lord who hath made Heaven + Earth. And now my dear sir, adieu, commend me to your dear children. Believer me yours very truly + affectionately

                                                                                                Mourant Brook.


In reading over the last part of this letter I cannot but call to mind the part England has taken since, during our great and terrible civil war, She – the only one of all the nations, the first to attempt to cripple and harass us, and acknowledge and aid our rebellious brethren, with expressed hopes of breaking up our government, she aiding the South with her ships against the North, whom she had abused so for suffering Slavery.

            I have inserted the above letter and reminiscence for the purpose of transcribing a singular story of an adventure he communicated to me of his having had been a young soldier of the French Army of occupation at Rome during the previous Winter 1851 . . . .


            To save time in the narrative he gave me a copy of the letter he had addressed to a friend Rear Admiral Hope C. R. on the subject, the August previous; which letter is headed as on next leaf.

Pierre Perron.


A young French solider of the Army of occupation at Rome 1851.


A Rencoutre in the Catacombs



                                                                    You have heard from me with interest the story of Pierre Perron the young French soldier of the Army of occupation at Rome. You will I think with other friends like to see it on paper.     You are aware that on account of impaired health I spent with my family last winter at Nice, very unexpectedly and from circumstances on which I need not enter, in March last I found myself at Rome. There going with some friends to visit the tomb of Cecilia Metella, some miles as you know from the city – we stopped at a little church in y’way called, “Quo vadis Dominus” (Lord, where goest them?) so named from the abominable lie that the Lord there met Simon Peter, leaving, also, on the marble, (which the show), the print of his feet.


            There we saw three French soldiers with one of these an intelligent young man of about 23. I entered into conversation, when after a time I found he had no more taste than myself for the abominations by which we were surrounded, “Are you then” said I “a protestant?” “Yes sir” he replied “I am a protestant.” And presently said “How strange sir, that so many of your compatriots are going over to these delusion!” After some further talk bidding adieu to the Frenchman we returned to our carriage and proceeded on our way. On the right of the road leading to the Tomb, there is, you will remember a church with Catacombs called St. Sebastian! There we alighted viewed the Church, and while (having spoken for lights) we were waiting to descend into these depths, the three French soldiers entered, I again saluted them; and the young man with whom I had before conversed, who was of an excellent address, begged permission to be allowed with his friends to descend with us; this was readily granted.

            The whole party headed by a Monk bearing a torch now entered those dark and narrow labyrinths and there in those recesses, once the refuge of the early Christians, the vaults of which had resounded the name and gospel of Jesus, I was enabled again to repeat the sacred sound and to converse with the young soldier concerning those deep and mysterious matters which lie between God and man’s soul. For now I asked him touching what he had experienced, of the work of the Holy Ghost within. “Have you” said I “proved the power of Christ upon your soul?” he replied – “Sir! I have.” “For how long?” “For the last seven years.” “Are you at peace?” “I am sir.” “Do you believe that your sins are forgiven?” “Sir! I believe they are blotted out by the blood of Jesus.”  By such questions I endeavored to prove whether he was a protestant indeed and whether he truly knew Christ.


            Again we emerged from darkness and once more the Frenchmen with many thanks politely took their leave.


                        They had now left the Church but had not left my mind in a composed state. I said to myself there is that young man to whom you may be of service; he is alone probably; he is young in faith; aid him, confirm him. But the “Old man” answered “your time is short in Rome; you have much to do and see; let him alone, let him alone!” However the “new man” prevailed. I ran out of the church hailed my young friend, gave him my address (as I supposed) told him I should be glad to talk with him on those celestial doctrines of which we had spoken, and so we parted he for home, we for the ulterior object of our days excursions.


            A week had now elapsed and I had seen nothing of the Frenchman. The next day I was going (as so I proposed for a fortnight) to Naples. I began therefore to think that I should see no more of him, late in the day however he made his appearance, “I have been expecting you” said I “for some days.” “Sir!” he replied “you gave me a wrong address” “How can you then to find me?” I replied. “I met, sir,” said he “in the street a gentleman whom I had met at Geneva and asked him if he knew you, he replied no, but directed me to Monaldini’s Library where said he the English commonly inscribe their names, There Sir, I went, + there, Sir, I found your address.”


We conversed together. “Your history” said I – “Sir!” he answered “I was born at Chalons-sur-Soane, and am the son of a poor shoemaker – (Cordonier obscure.” I remember was the term he used) There I became acquainted with an Evangelist from the Geneva Evangelical Society, thorough whom I was brought to know the truth. I then went to Geneva in 1844 to be educated for a minister, at the Theological School connected with that society, where I remained nearly five years. Then came the conscription and I was called to serve in the army (appele sons les drapeaux); and I am now a Fusilier of the 36th Regiment, 1st Battalion, and 1st Company, at the Barrack of Minerva.”

“Your position, said I, is painful: for great is the change between the school at Geneva and a Barrack at Rome. Are you able to submit yourself to the will of God?” “My position is indeed changed and is indeed difficult, but I thank God, I am able to submit myself to his will.” “Are you alone in your Regiment?”     “Quite alone Sir: a few protestants there are; but they are all like the rest, I am alone with my Bible and God.”

Again I questioned him as to his state, his individual acquaintance with Christ, pardon, peace, assurance, to all which questions he returned ready and satisfactory answers; at the same time expressing himself, though with confidence yet with great humility. I was much struck with the man, and felt well convinced that he was one who had experienced in his soul the power of the Gospel.                It was in my chamber in the Via Gregoriana, that this conversation took place. The period of our interview was short. “I will see you” said I “if it be the will of God in a fortnights time on my return from Naples.” But from Naples I never came back, nor have I seen Pierre Perron from that hour.

It pleased God at Naples to visit me with a fever, whence I returned in May by Sea to Nice, emaciated + enfeebled.


The morning after this conversation I left Rome, often thinking of the young solider and considering what might be done for him. Arriving in a few days at Naples, the next evening I went to pay my respects to a lady I had never the pleasure of before seeing, the friend of a mutual friend, Madam La Baronne Fagel whose husband was formerly minister at our Court from the Hague.


On entering into conversation with her, I mentioned Pierre Perron and my interview with him. To my surprise she replied “Yes I have heard something of that young man.” Great was my astonishment indeed, at hearing that this lady, form a foreign Country too, should know anything of an obscure French soldier. “Yes” said she “I know something of him, and presently I will introduce you to the gentleman who has given me that information.”


            Accordingly soon after, the door opened and M. Emile Gautier, a Swiss gentleman was announced. In conversing with him he informed me, that he was not personally acquainted with Pierre; but that he (Pierre) met him in the street at Rome, and having seen him at Geneva begged to ask him if he knew me, upon which M. Gautier gave him the direction to the Library above alluded to. I was particularly struck that the first man I met at Naples should be the same person whom Perron only a few days before had met at Rome. To M. Gautier I communicated the idea I had now formed of endeavoring to restore Pierre to France – feeling as I do a deep interest in the spiritual destitution of that unhappy country. He at once approved the plan and kindly promised a donation toward procuring a remplacant, which said he, the young man being on foreign service and having yet five years to serve will not cost less than L50. madam Fagel also with the same kind alacrity, said she would gladly contribute.


This in the Baroness’s apartments, at the Hotel of Parthenope the scheme for the young soldier’s restoration was fairly set on foot, But now the three (I believe we were all before mutually strangers to each other) the Hollander, Switzer + Briton were presently to part, Madam Fagel soon left for Solemo, and then for Rome: M. Gautier for Genoa, and on me the hand of the Lord was laid in illness. On my recovery early in May, I reached my family at Nice; and thence when I was sufficiently strong to go North in June I left for England via Marsailles. The young Frenchman was often in my thoughts, but I had taken no further steps in regard to his affair.

            It was on the Soane, ascending from Lyons to Charlons, that, seated on the deck of the Steamer, I entered into conversation with a pleasing young man whom I found presently to be a Dutchman, this led to my mentioning the name of Madame Fagel.

“Her son” said he “is my intimate friend.” This gentleman was the Baron Dedel who now informed me of what I did not know before – that Madam Fagel was in Paris – and that he expected very soon to see her. On this information I went below and wrote to Madam F. a note to the effect, that I would stay a day in Paris, with a view to seeing her, both to have the pleasure of my renewing my acquaintance with her, and also of hearing what she had done at Rome in regard to Pierre whom she had kindly undertaken to see.


            It was not until ten days after this that I went to Paris, having to pay a visit to some relatives, who have been settled in Burgundy for many years. I anticipate my story, therefore, by saying that at Paris I had the pleasure of visiting Madame Fagel, from whom, I heard that she had several times seen the young Frenchman at Rome, was much satisfied with him Christian bearing, had entered heartily into the scheme of the “Remplacant” and to his great joy had mentioned to subject to him, I need not say that joy was extreme.


     I left with the understanding that while the Baroness would kindly contribute her quota promised I would endeavor to raise the rest of the sum required for his discharge among my friends in England.


            September is the time when changes take place in the French Army and before that time it would be necessary to lodge the money at Rome.         I should say before this I had written to Geneva for the young man’s character from the school of Theology, and received a reply from M. Merle D’Aubigne highly satisfactory. I have also since my arrival in England heard from him urging the restoration of Pierre to his studies, which to finish his course, would I believe, occupy two years longer. I have also in a recent letter from Geneva, from the Count de St. George had the following high testimony to the young frenchmans character.


“We esteem and love him, and all his character + conduct while in our school, as well as since he left it leads us to hope that he will become a devoted and zealous servant of Christ in the ministry.”


            Landing at Chalons I soon found relatives who live near Dijon, on the left of the Rail Road, near the well known Vineyard of Chambertin, here I happily spent with them ten days. One evening as we were walking I told them of the young Frenchman, they were interested. But when I came to the part of the story which stated that the subject of the tale resided formerly at Chalons, they both at once interrupted me with an ejaculation of wonder and of joy – lifting up their hands and simultaneously exclaiming - “C’est Pierre! C’est Pierre Perron!”


            Judge of my surprise! For what connection could I suppose there to exist, between my relatives near Dijon and the young soldier of the 36th Regiment at Rome. It appeared however that they had known Pierre before his conversion at Chalons. From their esidence in the wine country, they are by rail only two or three hours from that town, where sometimes they visit the poor.


            They had become acquainted with him but they had heard nothing of him since he had entered the Army. We ourselves had never met but once before, and that, fifteen years ago, and then I became, singularly indeed, the bearer to them from Rome of tidings concerning one in whom they were much interested.              Well the result of the matter is, on arriving in England I told my story – I have raised the “sum further required for the remplacant” have just heard from the Count de St. George that, on the confidence of the money being forthcoming, he was about to lodge with Consul at Rome from the funds of the Evangelical Society, the amount needed, and finally that he expected by Gods mercy, to see Pierre again seated in the Theological School, when it opens on the first of October next.

                                                                                                Such my friend has been thus far, the result of what M. Merle D’Aubigny will calls “Notre rencontre dans les Catacombs.”


In another month I have every reason to hope that my earnest desire will be accomplished and that this young man will by the grace of God, be put in a position hereafter to serve his Country in the very best sense of the word.

                                                                               And surely in all this one cannot but observe in a manner the hand of God displayed in his providence. See how constantly and in how brief a space of time this young man has been presented to me. To say nothing of Rome – at Naples, on the Savone – at Paris, at Dijon, his memory is recalled I may not forget him. His matter as it were must be carried through.”


            Then see the connecting links of this providential chain, which unites the beginning to the end.                 Unexpectedly I find myself at Rome. I remain there but ten days. In Rome are ten thousand Frenchmen, and of these I accost only one, - one among ten thousand and he the man whose circumstances are so peculiar – How, remarkable! Well! We speak together a few words (in the church above alluded to) and part – as each might have supposed finally. But in a little while, though he on foot and I in a carriage, we meet again at St. Sebastians, and again converse he leaves the church, a conflict arises in my mind as to whether I shall trouble myself about him and issues in his favor. I follow him but give him a wrong address. He by accident, as we say, (and not improperly, for all accidents or happenings are under the hand of God) he meets in the street a man from Geneva, to whom, as far as I know, he had never spoken to who had never heard my name and from him gets a clue to my abode.


I am about to start for Naples, and there amongst its multitudes, natives and strangers, literally the first gentleman I speak to is the one he has a few days before addressed in Rome and this at the house of a lady, hitherto as I believe, a stranger to both of us.


            There the scheme of a Remplacant is started. Prevented from going to Rome; one of the three is going there; and at Rome that benevolent lady, by putting matters there (in train) supplies my lack of service. I am laid aside; but on my way to England on the river Soane am stirred up in the matter by being told by a stranger that the individual who now knew most about it, is at a place I had to pass through; at Paris.


On my way there I visit some relatives, they are acquainted with the young soldier in whom I am so much interested. At Paris I meet the lady above alluded to. Our plans are arranged.


In a little time a sum of money is lodged at Rome for the young mans emancipation. And in a few weeks we have every reason to believe that the object we have at heart will be happily accomplished.


Such are the links of the chain in the Divine Providence in this remarkable affair! Such the result of the recontre in the Catacombs! Surely the hand of Providence is here. Surely he who has told us the hairs of our head are all numbered” has ordered this matter for his glory.

                                                Sig. Mourant Brock.

                                    To Real Admiral Hope. C. B.

                                           Bath. August 1851.


The within Pierre Perron returned

to Geneva and was reinstated

in Y’ College there, when I

left Vevay in 1854.


Birth Day.


“My times are in they hand!

Many or few my days.

I leave with thee – this only pray,

That by thy grace I, every day,

    Devoting to thy praise,

            May ready be,

            To welcome thee;

When ‘ere thou com’st to set my spirit free.

                 Mis erere mei, Deus.

     “Make me a clean heart, O God! And

renew a right spirit within me.”


                                                            March 12. 1869.

I enter my Seventy fifth year this day grateful to God for his many mercies to me the past year, rendered especially so, by his leaving me, when removing so many of my relatives, friends and contemporaries.

(The concomitant of old age.)



Wellingtons Dispaches . . 1869.


                        A new series of Wellingtons dispatches are lately published containing criticisms on Napoleons retreat from Russia and expressing astonishment in the Duke’s mind, that the Emperor after giving battle first, did not divide his forces and retreat by different roads, divesting his troops of all superfluous baggage.           It surprises (if such were the criticisms of the Duke) that he was not aware of the impossibility (according to Scotts History) of bringing on a Battle with the Russians, they always retreating upon the advance of the French and laying waste the Country before them, and as to superfluous baggage a great number of the troops were frozen to death (according to Scott) through the want of clothing at the commencement of their retreat; the winter and cold weather setting in unusually early that year, foreshadowing Gods wrath upon the invaders.            The above recalls to mind another anecdote of Wellington, besides that of the Cobman narrated in these Vol’s which I cannot vouch for as true, but was one of the many I heard in London during my residence there five or six years after the Battle.


            The Duke Alava the Spanish aid of the Duke at Waterloo told Captain Waller, that as he was joining the Duke early on the field, he thought to himself, I wonder how he feels and looks with Napoleon opposite. The Duke shortly joined and called out in his bluff manner, “Well, how did you like the Ball last night? (at the Duchess of Richmonds in Brussells) then putting up his glass and sweeping the enemy’s ground he said to Alava, “that fellow little thinks what a confounded licking he’ll get before the day is over.”

Earl Stanhope in his life of Pitt. 4th Vol. Chap. 42. Page 343. Says he once asked the Duke of Wellington if anyone could be named who had been in the two greatest victories of land and sea, fought within ten years of each other, - he told me he knew only one, Gen. Alava who was on board the Spanish Flag Ship at Trafalgar and at Waterloo.


The Comet.


                        In reverting to my residence in the Old Chateau on the Lake of Geneva, I find the following memoranda amongst my notes ---

      Vevay. Canton de Vaud Switzerland.

                 August 25th 1853

           Chateau de la Tour.

                                        After returning from my ramble with a friend (on the Pelerin) to a late dinner, throwing open my casement, we were greatly astonished at eight o’clock in the evening, by the sight of a magnificent Comet directly over the Jura Mountains, the night was one of those brilliant atmospheres which most generally follow (upon this Lake) a thunder storm after severe hot weather, and who, (that has not seen this Lake, upon such a night) can possibly with the most fertile imagination picture the serenity of the scenery, the brightness of the stars, the solemnity of the surrounding Alps, overshadowing the clear transparent water, reflecting the lights of the Chalets (of the mountaineers) from the highest peaks. At nine o’clock it disappeared sinking behind the Pelerin, in vicinity of Ouchy, and tired after my mountain ramble, and with feelings subdued by this most magnificent and heart touching display, of the glories of the Heavens I retired to my couch deeply depressed recalling the sorrows of the past year.


“The Star of the unconquered will,

He rises in my breast.

Serene and resolute, and still,

And calm, and self possessed.


Oh! faint not in a world like this

And thou shalt known ere long, --

Know how sublime a thing it is

To suffer, and be strong.




                                                                               It was upon the thirtieth of March in the year 1853 when just recovering from a long protracted sickness, that I began again to repeat my daily walks in the vicinity and at the feet of the Alps near Vevay, finding the morning air bland and inviting I extended my walk this morning up to Chatelard, and was very much delighted. (I may say) awed, by the majesty and splendor of the prospect from its terrace. I had no expectation of finding such commanding scenery, such romance; and a building so ancient and strong, and so well protected, the terrace commands a magnificent view of Montreaux the Castle of Chillon, Hotel Byron + Villineaux with a part of the opening of the Vallais at a distance, consisting of meadow lands, through which the Rhone opens into y’ Lake directly under the Dents du Midi. On the other side are many beautiful villas, Baron Rhoders, built for the Prince of Prussia, of whom he is chamberlain: also a view of Vevay with the Juras beyond. A broad carriage road winds around the Hill, making the ascent to the Castle comparatively easy.

On a large square stone let into the wall at the entrance of road is the following superscription.    “La dame Barrone de Chatelard nee Cottam de Dekersberg veuve de Noble et genereux Jonas Emanuel Bondeli du sonseil Souverain de la public de Burn.  Ancient commandant et Balif D’arbourg Baron de Chatelard a fait par ses soins et ses pais establir ce chemin dans ce lieu ou n’en etoit ancum u ‘y passage par L’indication du célèbre Architect et ingenieur sons le direction due quell il a tu construit les armes 1768 et 1769.”

Death by Drowning.


                        The question has often been discussed, what death was the easiest, reflection calls to mind an incident in my early life when at school in the Country residing with the Rev. Dr Prentiss of Medfield, with several other lads fitting for College (now sixty five years ago) and all but myself and one other deceased.   Of a warm summers afternoon we boys after school hours walked some one or two miles to the bridge crossing the Charles River separating Medfield from Medway and staying longer than necessary and perhaps somewhat heated by the walk, when going into the water, one of our number fainted and was sinking for the last time when we rescued him. I shall never forget his appearance when we laid his apparently lifeless body on the grass, bloated + swollen a mile or more from any house ignorant and greatly and greatly frightened, we knew not what to do but in rubbing him, unintentionally, we turned him over on his face, which suddenly relieved him and brought him to his senses and enabled us to get him home.


He afterwards described to us his sensations which I have never forgotten, he said that when sinking the last time and all exertion one his part to save himself had ceased, he seemed to have a delirium of Extreme happiness, the most pleasurable thoughts of the past, unattended by the slightest pain, or unhappy sensation of any kind, but when returning to life his sufferings were horrible, beyond description, and created a shudder to think of . . .


The above recollection is brought fresh to my mind by reading a similar case in the Biographical sketch of the late Admiral Sir: - St. Beaufort (who died in 1857) and an account of which he narrated as follows, “From the moment that all exertion had ceased – which I imagine was the immediate consequence of suffocation, - a calm feeling of the most perfect tranquility superseded the previous tumultuous sensations, - it might be called apathy, certainly not resignation, for drowning no longer appeared to be an evil, I no longer thought of being rescued, nor was I in any bodily pain, on the contrary my sensations were now of rather a pleasurable cast, partaking of that dull but contented sort of feelings, which precedes the sleep produced by fatigue. Though the senses were thus deadened not so the mind; its activity seemed to be invigorated in a ration which defies all description, for thought rose above thought with a rapidity of succession that is not only indescribable but probably inconceivable by anyone who has not himself been in a similar situation. The course of those thoughts I can even now retrace in great measure – The event which had just taken place – the awkwardness that had produced it, the bustle it must have occasioned, (for I had noticed two persons jump from the chains) The effect it would have on a most affectionate father – the manner in which he would disclose it to the rest of the family, and a thousand other circumstances minutely associated with home, were the first series of reflections that occurred. They took then a wider range – our late cruise, a former voyage and shipwreck – My school days, the progress I had made there, and the time I had misspent – and even all my boyish pursuits + adventures, The travelling backward, every past incident of my life, seemed to glance across my recollection in retrograde succession, not however in mere outline, as here stated, but the

picture filled up with every minute and collateral feature. In short, the whole period of my existence seemed to be placed before me in a kind of Panoramic Review and each act of it seemed to be accompanied by a consciousness of right or wrong or by some reflection on its cause or its consequences. Indeed many trifling events, which had been long forgotten there crowded into my imagination and with the character of recent familiarity the length of time that was occupied by this deluge of ideas, or rather shortness of time, into which they were crowded I cannot now state with precision, yet certainly two minutes could not have elapses from the moment of suffocation to that of my being hauled up. My feelings while life was returning were reverse in every point of those which have been described above, a helpless anxiety a kind of continuous nightmare, seemed to press on every sense – again – instead of being free from bodily pain as in my drowning state I was now tortured by pain all over me.


I have often since been wounded, on one occasion I was shot in the lungs and after laying on the deck some hours, bleeding from other wounds I at length fainted. Now as I felt sure that the wound in the lungs was mortal it will appear obvious that the overwhelming sensation which accompanies fainting must have produced a perfect conviction that I was then in the act of dying, yet nothing in the least then took place resembling the operations of my mind when drowning.”


How strongly the above description of feelings when drowning, recalls the teachings of the Bible, that every thought word and action, shall be recorded and be accounted for, and made manifest to us after death, instantly – when our past life shall be closed.  ________


July 24th 1869.


“My times are in thy hand!

     I know not what a day

Or e’en an hour may bring to me

     But I am safe while trusting thee

          Though all things fade away

    All weakness I

          On him rely

Who fixed the earth and spread the starry sky.”


I know Lord that thy judgments are right and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.    Pslms – 75.


I am just arisen from my bed after a four weeks confinement by a painful operation and weakened by loss of blood, but it has mercifully led to many serious thoughts and resolutions and hopes of a better life and more gratitude in the future for God’s great mercy heretofore.


“My son despise not the chastening of the Lord nor faint when thou art rebuked by him: for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth and scourgeth every one whom he receiveth.

                                                                                                   Heb. 12 chap. 5+6 verses.

                        I know Lord that thy judgments are right and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.                                                                                                             Psalms


                        I have been confined to my bed and have lost much strength from loss of Blood by an operation performed upon me, but by the great mercy of God I still draw my breath and am convalescent . . .

            “My times are in thy hands.”     

                                                Psm. 31.15


July 30th 1869              Boston, #9 Beacon St.


Cardinal Cheverus.


                                                                        As I go back and recall the days of my boyhood and the remembrance of the persons and character of the inhabitants of Boston (with a population of not over twenty thousand inhabitants at that period) it seems to me as if the French refugees rise before me one after another as the ghosts before Richard III’s tent, not that like him, I am conscious of any great guilt, but because the French revolution made a great and deep impression on us boys of those days, and Boston was the home of several of them, and of those I became acquainted with (a boys acquaintance) were some who domesticated themselves with us, for many years, some for life. I call to mind the personal appearance of several, some more distinctly than others, with some I had a boys freedom and privilege of association, with others their character and bearing impressed me with more deference. Among the many I recall Julian who established a celebrated Restaurant at the corner of Milk street and Congress Street, who was succeeded by Rouillard his cook, there are a few gentlemen of those days living, who cannot recall the comforts and pleasures of a good dinner in the Blue Chamber in that establishment, when under the government of these celebrated French cooks. Gentlemen often gave their dinners there, in preference to their own houses, the Blue Chamber was for years the resort for dinner of Washington Allston (who had his apartments in sister street) and there his friends could always find him, summer and winter, between 6 + 7 previous to his removal to Cambridge, the Late Isaac P. Davis, Hon. T. H. Perkins, Gardner Green, and others had their whist parties in the Blue Room; and (in verito) Rouillard and Julian’s was the substitute for the Club Houses of the present day. After their death and the house removed for stores, the Stackpole House higher up in Devonshire Street became the resort for dining, and was kept for some time by Gallagher, That has now given way for the U.S. Post Office, about being erected.     But to return to the French Emigrants settled in Boston in those early days who had fled from France. There was a celebrated Barber named Ralliou, and a dancing master Labottiere, and of later date than these, a French teacher Artignarve, and a Biscauolgaze a hairdresser. Also a another hair dresser Robert New who was said to have named his son Nothing.


            But of a higher grade there were two who had been of rank and of education in their own Country, and greatly esteemed, - Monseiur Revrand who supported himself by giving French lessons among the first families in the city – and one of whose pupils was a sister of the writer, who met him after the restoration in Paris under the name of Jay, a member of the Chamber of Deputies, his former name being an assumed one; the other was a Priest the Abbe Chevrues who came to this country at the solicitation of the venerable Catholic Priest – Martinguon who had been a professor at the Sarbonne whose acquaintance he had made in Paris. This last highly esteemed Priest was unsupported in Boston where he had been located by Bishop Carroll of Baltimore who at that time was the only Catholic Bishop in the United State; Martiguon was somewhat advanced in years and had fled from France at the execution of the King; being of declining health besides advanced in years, he had sought the young distinguished Abbe with whom he had been acquainted in France for an assistant, with the approbation of Bishop Carroll.  It was a fortunate selection for Boston, for at the time I personally knew the Abbe; some ten to twelve years after his arrival, (when he used to invite me a boy into his church in a part of which he had his rooms) there was not a more distinguished literary man, or greater scholar, or more popular preacher, or more generally beloved man, in the city than himself, to see him, and be in his company was no ordinary pleasure.


            The Humility of his appearance his benignity of countenance, the elasticity of his movements all impressed one with the feelings of respect and admiration.


            John Louis Anne Magdalen

            Lefebore de Cheverus – was Born at Mayenne the Capitol of Lower Maine in the year 1768, one hundred years since, and came to this Country to escape the proscription of the clergy, after the Revolution; where he arrived the 3d October 1796, and was received by the Abbe Martingnon , with open arms, with whom he had been acquainted in France, when the latter was a professor at Sarbonne. In the month of August 1792 the Abbee Cheverus had escaped from France to England thus shortly before the massacres of the 2d + 3d of September, of which he afterwards is said to have alluded by the exclamation “How I could have wished a bullet to place me by the side of so many martyrs.” The English government generously offered him such succor and assistance as it was affording his fellow refugees at that time unjustly banished which he as generously declined, in favor of those who possessed not equal means of support with himself and with three hundred francs only, he commenced learning the English Language, and at the end of three months, was enabled to give lessons in French and Mathematics at a Boarding School, at which he became a teacher in 1793. there was a strong prejudice and antipathy to French Catholic Priests at that time in England, arising from their extreme looseness of character and degeneracy, previous to the Revolution, and it is a great proof of the sterling worth of the Abbe Cheverus’ character that he was able as in America afterwards to make those who were his worst enemies his warmest friends, he became shortly well provided with all the necessities of life, many of which he denied himself that he might assist his fellow countrymen: Having a class of pupils of that grade, best able to advance him in his English he soon acquired a facility of speech and knowledge (grammatically) which was of great use and importance to him when he arrived in Boston. It has been so reported of him that so perfect became his acquirements in both writing and reading the English Language, and so high was the estimation of his character, for Christianity, that he thus early obtained permission from the Bishop of London to perform all ecclesiastical duties in his district, and finally was so successful in opening a Chapel and an establishment for the ecclesiastics who should officiate in it that the Catholic Bishop of London hearing of the apostolic zeal of Cheverus went in person to consecrate it.


            Resigning his position at the school he dedicated all of his time to his Chapel and public usefulness in his ministry. It is written of him that an English nobleman of high rank and great wealth, struck with the great character he heard of him, engaged him to instruct his son in Algebra + Geometry. His Lordship is said to have become greatly attached to him and have made him advantageous offers for the rest of his life – but Chevereus’ great ambition was to labor, not for the few but for the many, and no one particular position could estrange him from his public duties; and the advantages and pleasures of a life of ease he esteemed as unfit for a Christian who had dedicated himself to Christ; and he began to pine for a wider field for usefulness; and he thought that his services might be of more use elsewhere than in England, which at that period was well supplied with Priests.


Expressing such thoughts to the Bishop of London, he was answered that there were many Priests but a great deficiency of Priests like him, and the wish that he would remain with him. In the meantime the Bishop of Dol in France had appointed him his grand Vicar, when the state of France should allow them to return – some time after these attempts at changing his situation, the Abbe Martignon addressed a letter to him from Boston in the United States representing his great need of an assistant, not concealing from him the responsibility of the situation, in a country filled with many different sects, all bitterly opposed to Papistry, and a climate widely different from France + England but with all this depicting to him the misfortunes of this neglected mission and the call for assistance, and the fear of their losing their faith, also the savage tribes to whom the Gospel might be carried.


                        This was an application of all others most likely to arouse the sympathy, and stir the feelings of such a character as Cheverus, and although not hastily or without mature consideration of the sacrifice of friends + Country he was about abandoning he made up his mind that his duty called him; and taking an affectionate leave of his English + French friends + parishioners. After an amicable and friendly intercourse with a Cabin of Protestants across the Atlantic, who at first it is said were inclined to make fun of him, but eventually to love him, he arrived October 3d 1796 at Boston, and was heartily received with open arms by his friend Martignon and to the great satisfaction of Bishop Carroll the only Catholic Bishop in the United States at that time.


            Strongly attached to each other these noble men set earnestly to work together upon the great enterprise of bringing to their faith the population scattered over more than a hundred leagues of territory, including some savage tribes of Indians of Penobscot + Passaniaquodoly: how well and effectually Cheverus a young man, attended to this  last duty, having made it a point to pass from one to two months in the forests with them, eating + sleeping in their Lodges; History has told and most every Massachusetts man of those times has been made acquainted, indeed it is said that nowhere, neither in England or America was there more deep sorrow + affection displayed towards him than when he took leave of those tribes.


            These two Catholic Priests worked together with such perfect unanimity were so pure and evangelical that at first having been looked upon, with contempt and distrust by the ruling population of Protestants they soon became objects of respect + esteem and their society sought, by the first gentleman of all sects of the town + this lasted until the death of one and the recall of the other to France.


            So elegant was Cheverus, that protestants as well as Catholics crowded his church on every occasion and having heard him once were desirous of hearing him again and this great popularity extended itself in a measure, to the congregation of Catholics he presided over, being mostly of the lowest class who were greatly benefitted in their character by his influence + several instances are recalled to the writer where thefts, having been committed by them, and the lawyers and police unable to ferret them out, he has brought the criminals on their knees to the Court, and made them surrender the goods: under such an influence the Catholics began to assume a higher estimation in the city, than every before, and gradually to decrease that bitter feelings that puritans had towards them on account of their religion. The Catholics of Boston from that time to the present have by their general demeanor and character shown how deeply they listened, and how greatly they were improved by Cheverus’ early instructions, and of the religious societies of Boston, they are not surpassed by any in their charities, their devotion to what is right, or in their patriotism. In our war of 1812 with Great Britain and in our late dreadful struggle with our brethren at the South they have been nearly to a man for the Union and in opposition to Rebellion. Without them we could not have built our bridges, dredged our rivers, or blanked our Rail Roads and to our great disgrace and shame it may be recorded that in the City of Boston they have not always received that same spirit of forbearance and protection that they deserved and were entitled to, as the disgraceful mob of protestants who burnt and dispersed their establishment of nuns in the vicinity of Boston most signally exhibited some thirty years since, and from which to our knowledge they have never been [illegible word] and to many of us who were in Europe when the news came across the Atlantic of this disgraceful abuse of freedom brought extreme mortification and disgrace.            Somewhere about the year 1800 the City authorities gave a dinner to the President of the United States, John Adams, and on one side of the presiding officer, was placed Mr. Adams and on the other the Abbe Cheverus, which drew from Mr Adams the remark to the Abbe, “what astonishes me most on the present occasion, is to see myself here, and then to see you here” alluding to the violent opposition which Boston had formerly made to his election to the Chief Magistracy, and the contempt they had also expressed for Catholic religion.   It was in the year 1801 that the subscription for the Catholic Church in Franklin Street was commenced which was headed by Mr Adams; this church was ever after officiated in by Cheverus until he left the Country, and very shortly after it was finished, the Abbe received form his family and friends, a pressing invitation to return to France; the French Bishops + Priests taking advantage of Pius 7 concordat of 1801 and returning to their homes. His declining to give up his flock here which he had reared and watched over so long brought great joy to the Catholics and universal hope to all the sects in the City that he would never leave being satisfied that his place could never be filled by one equally good and beloved, Bishop Carroll was so much gratified by his decision that he came to Boston in Sept. 1803 to be personally present at the consecration of the Church under the name of the Holy Cross, in Franklin Place at that date.     On the first of November 1808 he was consecrated a Bishop in a Cathedral at Baltimore by Archbishop Carroll; Pius 7th having sent his brief in 1808 erecting Baltimore into a metropolitan see, with four suffragan Bishops, Boston, New York, Philadelphia and Bardstown. At first it appeared to distress Cheverus, revolting at the idea of being placed over Martignon his friend and master, but such was the affliction of the latter that he rejoiced at his elevation.


            The promotion created no change in his humble style of living, and his untiring attentions to Martignon suffered no diminution, only in the performances in the church did he take the lead, his expenses were not allowed to increase, farther than the office required, he went so far as to cut his own wood, and his dress was of the simplest material economizing in everything except alms when I recall the recollection I have of Bishop Cheverus, at the period from 1813 to 1818 I cannot but think of him in his humility; powerful, exhaustless love for his fellow beings, his charity and endearing qualities as a human being, displaying the characteristics of our Saviour more perceptibly than any man that it has been my privilege to have met – with his successor Bishop Fenwick + Bishop Fitzpatrick both good and respectable men I have had business transactions in the sale to them of land in the southern part of our City but neither have left the impression on my memory that Bishop Cheverus left indelibly fixed there.


In 1818 Bishop Cheverus met with a misfortune of losing his friend Martignon, from that period he seemed for the first time in his life to yield to despondency although surrounded by friends who cherished and appreciated him, but the additional labor and responsibility and the deprivation of that friendly counsil he was accustomed to, seemed to dishearten him, and with all an attack of the asthma.                Nothing however weakened his zeal for his parishioners and he struggled along for a year or two attacked by a malady which prevented his attending to his duties finally, and his physician recommending a change of climate, as the only resource left to him. It was about this time that the French Minister Mon. Hyde de Newville returning to France spoke of him and his high character to Louis 18th who immediately appointed him to the Bishopric of Montauban South of France.    In 1823 he embarked at New York on the first of October and after a successful passage across the Atlantic to within sight of land a severe storm arose and the vessel was shipwrecked on the coast of France. A miracle saved the passengers and crew. Cheverus was received with great kindness at Cherbourgh by the Governor and Mayor and by several of his early companions who were returning to France for the first time like himself – Proceeding to Paris he presented himself to Louis 18th by whom he was graciously received as he was by all of his old companions: after answering many invitations from the churches to preach he set off to his native place Mayenne greatly distressed by the death of one of his sisters Madame George whom he had hoped to have met again.


            At Mayenne his native town he was received with great rejoicing, ringing of bells, and turning out of military to escort him into the city, and although an absentee of thirty years he appeared to have been greatly appreciated by all classes of his countrymen. While he was enjoying his ease in the bosom of his family, there were difficulties arising against his remaining in France, it appeared that the Catholic Bishops of America had been appealing to the Pope to send Cheverus back to America representing that his loss was too great for the prosperity of the Church to bear, also there were doubts in France with the courtiers of Louis 18th if after thirty years expatriation he had not lost his citizenship and having been naturalized in America, could hold a see in France. Their objections were all overcome by the Bishops offering his resignation, with the wish of retiring into private life to restore his health. The Pope sent him the necessary Bulls, and he proceeded forthwith to Montauban where he was received with the same excitement, ringing of bells +c. +c. as took place at Mayenne. Indeed wherever he went there appeared but one feeling expressed towards him, that of love and veneration, both in America and France and England. I know of nothing more beautiful than the eulogy pronounced upon him by the late Dr. Wm. Ellery Channing in his article on Fennalon as below.


      “Who among our religious teachers would solicit a comparison between himself the devoted Cheverus? This good man whose virtues and talents have now raised him to high dignities in church and state, who now wears in his own Country the joint honors of an Archbishop, and a peer, lived in the midst of us, devoting his days and nights and his whole heart to the service of a poor and uneducated congregation, we saw him in a great degree, declining the society of the cultivated and refined, that he might be the friend of the ignorant and friendless; leaving the circles of polished life which he would have graced, for the meanest hovels; bearing with a father’s interest and sympathy the burdens + sorrows of his large spiritual family; changing himself alike with their temporal and spiritual concerns. And never discovering by the faintest indication that he felt his fine mind degraded by this seemingly humble office.


            This good man bent on his errands of mercy, was seen in our streets under the most burning sun of summer and the fiercest storms of winter, as if armed against the elements by the power of charity, he has left us but not to be forgotten.


            He enjoys amongst us what to such a man must be dearer than fame. His name is cherished where the great of this world is unknown it is pronounced with blessings, with grateful tears, with sighs for his return in many an abode of sorrow and want.”


I was and had been a resident in London for two years, when Cheverus returned to France, and recall to mind the excitement the account of his shipwreck occasioned us Americans then resident there and it was my privilege the next year (being in Paris0 to receive a visit from him (at my hotel the Mont Morenci in Rue Richileu) with a very kind and impressive invitation to accompany him and pass some time at Montoban with him; recalling in the most feeling manner the kindness he had been the recipient of in Boston from its inhabitants amongst others my father + family – he had come up to Paris according to custom, to pay his annual visit to the King, I regretted greatly afterwards that the fortnight which we, the fellow passengers of Genl Lafayette passed at Havre expecting him daily, had not been passed with Bishop Cheverus at Montoban.


            In the natural course of events it followed, that a prelate of so much distinguished (for spread) fame; could not have remained, long uncalled to a higher preferment. In the short space of two years the Archbishop of Bordeaux died; the Bishop of Montaban was raised to the Metropolitan see of Bordeaux, his fame having been spread far and near through all France for his humility and acts of charity.


            When the suburbs of Montaban were flooded by the over flowing of the Banks of the River Yarm which rendered homeless hundreds of the poorest class of its inhabitants an act which has not its equal in the History of the French Nation is ascribed to him, appearing in the midst of them he exclaimed! Come! My children the Episcopal palace is yours! Come all of you – I will share with you my last morsel; and filling his palace with hundreds of them, whom he clothed and fed and sent back the necessary assistance when the waters had subsided, he himself retreated to a small cot in the Attic; such acts as these spoke loudly through all France and reaching the ears of Charles the 10th went far to suggest his promotion.


            He entered Bordeaux Dec. 3d. 1826 and was received with the greatest Pomp and acclimation, by the Clergy, military, and populace.


            Now what a transition this, in the short space of three summers, from the little, plain, Catholic Church in Franklin Place Boston surrounded by and associating with the lowest class of Irish (for of none other at that time was his church composed) to the splendid Cathedral of Bordeaux the second most important City of France. A peer of France himself and in company of some of the highest dignitaries of the Church + Army all assembled to do him Honor and nevertheless it is related of him that he declined and shunned all this pomp and show, and sighed for his humble cot and little church in Franklin Place. To such a character as Cheverus so full of love for his fellow beings so elevated in his daily thoughts of the world above, how vain, idle, transitory all of this show must have been; arrived at this time to an age (58) when habits are not easily changed the change from a life of comparative seclusion, passed in daily prayer, self denial, and acts of charity (in the little city of Boston, at that period) to the large and populous city of Bordeaux must have necessarily brought with it many conflicting emotions.


            The Archbishop was highly esteemed by the King, and during his visits to Paris, to be present in the House of Peers, he several times had members of the Royal family to hear him preach, seldom being in Paris without having many applications from charitable institutions to preach for them.


            He had always been a great friend while in America to the Jesuits who had fled there during the Revolution and his friendship continued upon his return to France and shortly after his removal to Bordeaux, his feelings were much disturbed by the violent complaints and hostility exhibited in the public prints and the legislative assemblies against them, and finally the sacrifice of them by Charles 10th. The loss of them in his diocese where they had been of great service deeply afflicted him, as it did all the Bishops, Archbishops and clergy of France. And the ordinance of June 16th 1828 of the King excluding the Jesuits from the education of youth raised the universal outcry, and very likely softened the regret the clergy might otherwise have felt at his dethronement.


            Charles the 10th however never lost in his friendship or expression of it to Cheverus, but offered him the post of minister of ecclesiastical affairs, which the Archbishop declined, he was appointed a councellor of state and in 1830 he was named in common with the Archbishop of Paris, commander of the order of the Holy Ghost, the highest title a King could confer. The Archbishop instead of being elated with these honors, seemed to be oppressed by them, as in his own estimation, unworthy of them, and with the greatest humility had resisted the reception of them, but was overruled by his great loyalty to the Government, which was at this moment resting upon a precipice as following events soon showed. After the revolution which placed Louis Phillipe upon the throne and expelled the peers of the former government so universally, respected and beloved was Cheverus that the intentions of the new government were intimated to him that they intended restoring him to the peerage, requiring him in the councils at Paris which with many remonstrances drew form him the following declaration, published in the Paris Journals,


            “Without approving the exclusion of the peers (pronounced against them) created by Charles 10th I am rejoiced to find myself out of the political path, and have taken a firm resolution never to reenter it, never to accept either function or place, I will preach submission to the Government I will set the example and my clergy and myself will never cease to pray in conjunction with our people for the welfare of our beloved country. I feel myself more and more attached to the people of Bordeaux. I thank them for the friendship they have shown me; the wish of my heart is to live, and die in the midst of them without any other titles than those of their Archbishop and friend,

                                                            +  John

                                                Archbishop of Bordeaux

Bordeaux 19th August 1830.


            His charity was boundless not confined to any one particular class of people but to all within his reach of all color, sect and religion. Protestants as well as Catholics; and his motto was,

            “Love ye one another as I loved you.”


It appeared from documents, left after Charles the Tenth’s expulsion + death, that he had applied to the Pope for a Cardinals Hat for Cheverus.


            Shortly after, returning form the installment of one of his vicars, M. De Trellisae Bishop of Montaban in 1834 he was greatly distressed + overcome by being informed of the death of his other grand Vicar M Carle a most exemplary old man, the suddenness of the communication made to him, deeply affected him and brought on a few days after an attack of apoplexy when alone from which he recovered and endeavored to conceal from his friends, he himself was not alarmed or saddened but he considered it an enunciation of his approaching death a warning to be prepared.

                                                                                                            A very touching incident of his life about this time is stated of him, which brings to mind singular addresses made to his congregations, by Rev. Mr. Taylor commonly called Father Taylor of the Seamens Chapel Boston.


A rich and powerful man of rank obtained his promise to baptize his child, to his great disinclination to do for one what he could not do for all, while performing the service surrounded by the rich relatives, his eye caught in the distant part of the Cathedral – a poor woman, with her infant, and poor relatives waiting humbly at a distance until she could be permitted to approach the font – reflecting how painful must be their feelings, by the spectacle of the honors upon the rich mans child, whilst theirs was neglected, turning he directed them to draw near, telling them he wished to baptize the unadorned baby as well as the one loaded with ornament -

after the baptism he addressed some touching words, to both the rich and the poor parents; “These two children” he said “are equally great in the sight of God, both are destined to the same glory in Eternity, though reached by different paths, the rich one by charity, the poor one by an humble and laborious life, Heaven will be open to him, who suffers, because he will have been patient, to him who gives alms because he will have been compassionate, the virtue of the one, will consist, in being generous, that of the other in being grateful – both must begin from this very day to fulfill their destiny, the poor child cannot indeed yet ask, and his heart is yet incapable of gratitude, but I will be his interpreter I will undertake to be grateful for all the good you may do him -

the rich child cannot yet give and hi heart cannot yet be touched by generosity, but you, he continued, turning to the numerous brilliant assemblage, by whom the infant was surrounded, you are his representatives you should be charitable and generous for him, the alms you may now bestow will be the greatest proof of tenderness you can give him, they will sanctify his entrance into life and be blessed by the God who does not call himself in vain the father of the poor.”

                                                                                                “He then made a collection for the poor to which every one of the wealthy assemblage pressed forward to contribute deeply affected by the words of the Archbishop.”

                        “The poor family leaving with tears of happiness and gratitude.”


            It was somewhere in the year 1835 that Louis Phillipe applied to the Pope for a Cardinals Hat for the Archbishop as being the most distinguished and universally beloved prelate in France an answer to which, the sovereign Pontiff delayed for a time, to induce the government, to provide for the office a revenue in keeping with his dignity, and a short time afterwards he announced to the Vicar general of Bordeaux, that the Archbishop was to be proclaimed a Cardinal of the next consistory – saying “If I raise him to that dignity, it is not only to comply with the request for the government; independently of that circumstance I have a peculiar pleasure in making the promotion as it is due to the virtues and merits of the Archbishop and the zeal he has displayed, in the dioceses of Boston, Montaban and Bordeaux.


            The ninth of March 1836 the Archbishop was received at the Tuilleries by the King – who placed the hat upon his head, both kneeling down in the Sanctuary.


            Afterwards at a private audience given by the King – his Eminence thought the moment auspicious for soliciting of the King the release of M. de Peyronnel and his companions which it does not appear that Louis Phillipe granted at that time,


            In the midst of all these honors Cheverus continued to be sad, “of what use is it,” he said, “to be enveloped after death in a red, a black, or a purple shroud? When one has seen thrones overturned, the very foundations of society shaken, how is it possible not to feel; that there is nothing stable here below? How can any value be placed upon human things?” “How I could wish” he said, to the young seminarians of St. Sulpice, “How I could wish to exchange this red cape, for yours.”


            Alas! How short was the remainder of life allowed him, on the fourteenth of July at 5 o’clock in the morning he was deprived of all sense and feeling by a stroke of paralysis, and died on the 19th of July 1836, the day being that on which the church celebrates the feast of St. Vincent de Paul, whose virtues he so nearly resembled.


                        He was with all his great popularity and honors, the humblest of all human being he placed himself in his own esteem, above no one, not even the lowliest and poorest, because as he said “they are our brethren. Our fellow creatures, and perhaps many of them will one day be higher than we shall be in the sight of God.”


Whilst writing this short memoir which I have collected from personal remembrances, and notices I have read and heard of Cheverus, both in this country and in Europe I cannot but recall the day I passed at the latter end of June 1856. In the great Cathedral at Bordeaux perfectly absorbed by the contemplation of his monument, calling to mind my early youth, when coming from school, kept by Dr Cummings in sister street – near the late Dr. W. E. Channings Church I was often met and kindly accosted by the little humble Abbe Cheverus in his great flop’d hat I little thinking at that time that it ever could be exchanged for a Cardinals; or that after many vicissitudes in life I myself would stand before this splendid mausoleum (in a distant part of the globe) erected to his honor and memory.


            It is some fifteen feet in height including the figure and ten feet at the base, with cherubs on each side and upon the Base is superscribed










[next to the fourth and fifth lines is written in pencil the years 1768 and 1836, and the number 68, showing Mason to have calculated his age to be 68]

            The Cardinal is said to have remarked, “that of all compositions, a sermon, is the one which should be the clearest not excepting our familiar letters and conversation; because in the former, a second perusal may explain the sense of an obscure passage; and in the latter explanations may be asked, of what is not understood. Whilst in a sermon everything must be comprehended at once, because custom and propriety will not allow explanations to be asked of the preacher.”



[again the page is marked in pencil:



       68 ]

[The final two pages are written in different handwriting and much later.]


     Boston June 27, 1881 . . .

I am at the

     Hotel Bristol left Entirely alone without a relative or [illegible word] in the city to whom I could apply, in case I am taken sick (first time in my life, so situated to my recollection) all of the Boarders having left or going for the summer including the caterer also, obliging me in my eighty seventh year to depend upon the Brunswick for my dinner [illegible word] and female attendants, all of which occasions me fears of being confined to my bed so situated, having been kept in doors during the past month cold as it has been, with an inflamed face + nose and feelings somewhat better this afternoon. I took a cab and road to 33 Chestnut street to hail [?] my nephew + family who arrived last evening in the Atlas for Europe and was sadly disappointed to find they had left the ship at East Boston for their Country seat at Milton, I took the the occasion to walk round Louisbourgh Square where I resided twelve years and all of my six children were born three of whom are now in their graves, the growth of the square [illegible words] and spread of trees all awakened recollections of the past, my homely feelings them + failing of them now altogether greatly stirred me, the summer deserted appearance of the square added to excitability recalling those who are not, but then were my companions, I retraced my steps homewards repeating “Be still my soul these anxious cares to this are burdens thorns + [illegible word]. Consider all the trials [illegible words] for heaven will make amends for all.” God is my shepherd, I shall not want, he maketh me to lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters, he restoreth my soul, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for thou art with me thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.


[The End]