quantity of eatables to carry with us (for we intend staying all day)
we shall go in great style.... Went down to Mr. Brace’s to see Miss
Betts on so important a subject as our trip to Jubilee from Mrs. B’s
we went to Mr. Lord’s to get Mrs. B’s permission for Miss B to
accompany us—and from there M. Denison and myself returned to Mr. B’s,
from there we went to the drivers to give divers other directions, and
after having thus settled all necessary preliminaries to our _each
every_ and _either_ satisfaction we have once more returned to the
North Turret of St. Pierce’s Castle. We were in high spirits this P.
M. Miss Denison was Caroline Wilhelmina and I was her cousin Edwin,
just returned from Europe. I gave Caroline an invitation to accompany
me to the Theatre. She in her character of Caroline is very
_interesting_ but very _ignorant_. We dressed accordingly; M. Austin
was the actress. She was in a graceful kneeling posture, I said
“encore” Caroline had one of her _wise_ looks, when happening to look
up I saw Miss Pierce standing in the door, a silent spectator of the
farce before her. We felt rather awkward, but Miss Pierce dispelled it
very soon by one of her good natured laughs.... June 10^{th} W. has
just returned from New York. She is not so very unpleasant as she has
been represented to me. As I expected she is rather affected but she
may possess many good qualities which I hope we shall discover to her
advantage. Went down to the Bantam to day Misses Austin & Beebe in
search of mint.... Went on board-[walk] a great place of resort for
the _fashionables_....
The bell rings for nine. I must bid you “good night” my dear Mama,
although you cannot hear me.
June 22^{nd} 5 o’clock At six we go to Canaan. I expect the carriage
every moment. My “companions at arms” are Misses Denison, Austin, and
Misses M and S. Tufts, & Miss Weyman.
½ past 7. We have just returned from Canaan. It is between twenty and
thirty miles from L. the road passes through a delightful country. We
sang most of the time some of the tunes were Mary’s Fears, Blue-eyed
Mary, Love’s young dream, There’s nothing true but Heaven. Happiness
seemed to reign over our little party & was never expelled, excepting
some of the party were a little sick, and this sickness seemed to flee
away when we were singing.
In some places we had the distant view of a little village, at others
the hills appeared to rise one above another and behind some of [?]
the spire of a church could be indistinctly seen.
When we arrived at Canaan we proceeded immediately to the falls. The
bed of the river (the Housatounoc) appeared composed of one solid
stone which was almost flat. The river was so low that in some places
there would be perhaps 15 feet of the rock which would not be
overflowed. The view of the falls was the most grand that I ever saw.
The water does not fall perpendicularly over the rocks but in a
sloping direction.
The falls are 60 feet in height. We wandered about some time and then
returned to the carriage to dine. we all scrambled into it with
sharpened appetites. After dining, we after great difficulty provided
ourselves with fishing apparatus, but did not succeed as we expected
for not one of the party caught a single fish. We wandered about
sometime admiring the romantic scenery, until by the length of our
shadows we perceived it was time to return to our abode. On our ride
home all the fields were covered with ivy, and Barnes [Hiram?] our
driver decked the horses and carriage with them. At length, without
accident we arrived at Miss Pierce’s very much fatigued but in high
spirits. Where Miss Weyman found a letter from her mother who resides
in Jamaica.
Examination day has again returned and of course I am very much
engaged, but Mamma’s letter made me almost sick for she thinks me
_homesick_ but really am not, when I am in good health which is the
case at present. I succeed tolerably well with my music and can play
Robin Adair with much _grace_ and dignity.
Mr. Hurlburt wishes me to reserve a corner of my letter and Miss Mary
must have another to assure Mamma of my _industry_, application, and
attention to my studies.
15^{th} Today we choose seats according to the number of credit marks
that we have. I had 93 credit marks and one “extra.”
I have just heard from my old acquaintance Harriet Seelye of Cherry
Valley. She is cousin to Miss Shelton, an amiable, pleasant,
intelligent young lady who has lived in New York for a number of years
last past. Miss Shelton’s mother is sister to Mrs. Seelye. Lorenzo
Dow, The famous Methodist preacher, is to preach in Mr. Jones’ meeting
house this evening. I have a violent curiosity to see him, but I fear
it would not be proper for me to go.
Went to the Lodge Library with Miss Frances Smith.... Just returned
from a visit to Misses Betts & Shelton where Miss Perkins and myself
spent a very pleasant evening. Miss Pierce has come for the candle and
says she fears we shall lose our extras in the morning for early
rising.
[Illustration:
PL. XLII.—FROM A COLORED DRAWING BY AMELIA LEWIS WHILE AT THE SCHOOL
]
... It is again Saturday and a most delightful day. Miss Austin and
myself have just come to school P. M. Dr. Beecher delivered to us a
very affecting address, and I hope we shall profit by his advice.
... The text this P. M. was “Pray without ceasing” Dr. Beecher was
unusually eloquent he appears very much engaged in the “good cause.”
His church is increasing very much and great attention is paying to
Religion and every one appears interested and a great many meetings
are held every week. Miss Buell, Miss Perkins and myself went to take
a walk after dark and left Miss Austin at home all alone.
After our return Miss P. and myself went to a meeting which is
attended every Sabbath evening at our schoolhouse, but the room was so
crowded we could not get seats. So we returned to our house, Miss P.
to her writing and I to the studying of my lesson in history for
tomorrow.
Tuesday. This P. M. Mr. Brace will propose a sum and I fear it will be
very difficult. All those that study Blair are under the necessity of
writing figures which is very difficult. Mine were left until the last
and of course they were pretty well selected, for it is Mr. B’s rule
to leave the best until the last.
... Mr. B. read figures yesterday and he selected five from the
parcel, as being selected with the most taste and judgment, and I had
the pleasure to perceive that mine was among the “priveleged few.”
I have engaged to keep the paper this week which I fear I shall find
rather a difficult task. Mr. Brace was passing my desk and saw my
journal. he said he had kept one since 1806. I should think it might
be very interesting.
Mr. B reads subjects for dissertations, for the week in which I am
appointed the subject is “The causes of dreams” which I think a very
easy subject.
We have the pleasure to have the company of little Mary Brace, as she
is not more than 2 years old, I presume she does not attend school
with an idea of improvement.
_July 4, 1822._
46 years have elapsed since the banners of Independence were raised
over the shores of America. and about 17, years since General
Washington departed this life for the land of spirits there to receive
a crown of far greater splendour than that would have been if he had
accepted, or rather, taken, that of the United States of America—We
were sweetly serenaded by B. & S. and L as we suppose but we were so
very unfortunate as not to hear it. When Miss Mary told us of it this
morning we were quite astonished that we could be so stupid as not to
hear it. It must have been quite _romantic_, for I never saw a more
delightful evening.
This morning was ushered in by the ringing of the bells of the two
churches and that of the court house (which sounds very much like the
gaol bell of New York.) and a _clashing_ of fifes & drums, guns &c.
Miss A. and myself were invited to a party at Mr. J. P. Brace’s and we
hope to accept the polite invitation.
_July 5^{th}_ We attended the party last evening and were rendered
quite happy by the kind exertions of Miss Betts and Mr. B. who were
very attentive and polite. It consisted of about 60 young ladies all
of whom were from our school and about 16 gentlemen. B. D. came home
with me I think I formed my judgment quite too hastily of him for I
think him very intelligent. My friend Martha A. wished me to change my
opinion and as I think I was prejudiced against him I think it was my
duty.
Poor Mr. B. being Captain is very hoarse with the great exertions he
made yesterday in the commanding of his troops. An oration was
delivered yesterday at the meeting house by a Mr. Sandford. As Mr. B.
engaged to _shoot_ any fair damsel that was seen on the green, and as
we supposed the house would be uncomfortably full, none of the young
ladies of our house attended. (_The writer of this was called away
suddenly by family misfortunes and left by stage for Albany._)
Mr. S. promised to come to-night and bring his flute and Miss Mary
says he will come “if he is alive,” I am very busy packing my
cloathes. My sudden departure seems to affect almost every one. A
gentleman is going in the stage to Albany tomorrow and I fear I _must_
go under his protection but I sincerely hope not.
_August 29^{th}_ I left Litchfield and all its dear inhabitants on the
morning of the 21^{st}. The eve. before Mr. S. brought his flute and
played while we accompanied him with the piano. Those present were
Miss Mary and S. Pierce Miss &c. and Mr. Brace.
In the night we were awoke by music which appeared to be very near us.
we instantly arose and found it to be Messrs. Loring, Burgess and
Sullivan with flutes which were played with much skill and sweetness.
But all the pleasures of Litchfield could not render it possible for
me to remain there and in the morning I took my melancholy departure.
In the stage were a Dr. Goodsell Mr. Waters of Charleston Mr. Hall and
his mother of Columbia. When we arrived at Norfolk where we changed
horses we were joined by a company of boisterous Dandies but our
carriage, not being sufficiently large to carry both parties they
proceeded in a separate stage. We were not annoyed by them at all—but
they made a great noise—When we stopped to dine they appeared to have
received a renovation of _spirits_—but they had not gone far before
they broke their carriage which detained us so much that we did not
arrive at Albany until about 8 o’clock. We staid there until the next
day at 4 o’clock when we left there for Utica. A Mr. Brown of Auburn
was one of our company and was very polite to me. We went to
Schenectady that evening and left there at 3 in the morning. In one of
the stages was Mr. C. Kirkland who paid me much attention. We arrived
at Utica about sunset and after calling a moment on Aunt B. I went to
New Hartford with Mr. Mrs. and Miss Marie Lyon who came to join Miss
Rossiter, and in the morning went with F. Hurlbut to see my dearest
Mamma.
(Written by M. L. W. in 1822 at the age of sixteen)
1825.
MARY PECK—HER ALBUM.
The name of Mary W. Peck occurs in the list of pupils for the year 1811,
and is placed among that of the teachers for the year 1825 as instructor
of drawing. She was the step-daughter of Dr. Abel Catlin, and lived with
him in the Frederick Deming house. She married Edward D. Mansfield,
whose account of his coming to Litchfield to study law is given earlier
in this book. That he found something there to study besides law is
evident.
Mr. Mansfield gave Miss Peck an album on January 8, 1825, which is
filled with a large collection of delicate paintings showing great skill
in the use of her brush, with many locks of the hair of her friends,
arranged ingeniously and tastefully, and with extracts or original
articles written by friends, many of them noted residents of Litchfield.
The following are the autographs in the Album of Mary W. Peck:
Catherine Beecher
Mary H. Bishop, New Haven.
Mary F. Beecher
Mr. Thomas C. Perkins
H. Beecher (Henry Ward Beecher)
John P. Brace
Lucy E. Brace
H. Buel
F. Bronson
Louisa W. Bishop, New Haven.
Dr. Abel Catlin
Flora Catlin
Mary Catlin
Geo. Catlin
George Younglove Cutler
Mary Deming
Lucretia Deming
Charles Deming
W^m Deming
H. W. Delafield
Charles Davies West Point, May, 1827.
J. G. (James Gould)
Julia Gould
James R. Gould
Edward S. Gould
Geo. Gould
Henry G. Gould
Sally M. C. Gould
H. Holmes
Uriel Holmes
Stephen T. Hosmer, Judge Superior Court, Connecticut.
John P. Jackson, New Jersey.
Mary Lord
E. A. Lord
M. E. Landon
John R. Landon
N. Landon
Ann Elizabeth Landon
B. H. Langdon
M. A. Lewis
Jane R. Lewis
L. C. Lewis
E. W. Leavenworth Great Barrington, Massachusetts
Anna Marr Providence, Rhode Island
A. C. O. or A. C. V.
Clarissa Perkins
Henry A. Perkins President Bank, Hartford, Connecticut.
John Pierpont, poet.
Sarah Pierce (original poems)
J. Pierce
Mary Pierce
Lucy Parmelee
A. V. Parsons, Massachusetts.
W^m N. Peck
H. H. Riddel
E. Reeve (and Judge Reeve’s hair)
W^m Sheldon
Dr. Sheldon
Jane E. Shedden
Mary Smith
E. C. Stiles
David C. Sanford, New Milford Judge Superior Court, Connecticut.
Origen S. Seymour Judge Superior Court Connecticut
Henrietta S. Seymour (Mrs. G. C. Woodruff)
Benjamin Tallmadge, Colonel, Revolutionary Army.
M. Tallmadge
Susan Tracy
Oliver Wolcott, Governor,
S. W. Wolcott Connecticut.
H. H. Wolcott
E. Wolcott
M. G. Wolcott
Frederick Wolcott
[Illustration:
PL. XLIV.—BANTAM LAKE, WITH POEM BY MR. BRACE
From Album of Mary Peck
]
EXTRACTS.
DEAR MISS MARY PECK
I hardly know in what manner to comply with your kind request that I
would insert in this beautiful Album a specimen of my handwriting and
signature. I find it nearly filled with fine drawings and Poetical
effusions which illustrate the elegant accomplishments of yourself and
your numerous friends. It would be vain for me to attempt to rival so
much excellence. Though I delight to peruse the works of the great
Masters of human intellect yet I am no Poet.
At the present time and before my old eyes the _aspect of nature has
faded_ and I live chiefly in the recollection of Scenes that _have
passed_. I however cherish a constant & firm belief of the future
Glories which await my beloved Country and especially of their full
accomplishment in the fertile regions of the American Hesperia.
I request you to remain assured that the most ardent of your young
Friends cannot exceed me in sincere wishes that you may long live
happy, amiable, contented and prosperous.
OLIVER WOLCOTT.
Litchfield, April 5, 1827.
Bantam! dear lake! how calm thy waters lie!
How brightly green, thy sunny banks arise;
Calm as the hours of childhood, sported there:
And bright as life, appear’d to youthful ken;
No storm disturbs thy glassy surface clear;
Reflecting still the plane tree’s broad bright leaf,
Or oak with dark green crown; or gayer green
The corn sends forth in sunny hours; Sometimes
A tall bare pine, its foliage sent
Upon thy wave, like disappointments here,
Amid the brighter green of joy and hope—
And yet clear, placid lake! thou art the same
As when within thy cooling wave I swam,
In childhood’s hour — — — —
— — — Thou art the same
’Tis man alone is chang’d — — —
Altamah.
MR. BRACE.
The following lines were written by Miss C. Beecher upon hearing that
measures were taken to remove the remaining Indians in our country
across the Mississippi:
THE INDIAN’S LAMENT.
I go from all my heart loves best,
On to the dark Pacific wave,
For the poor Indian ne’er can rest,
But in his grave!
From every well known wood, & wild
Where every dearest hope was born
From all that charm’d me since a child,
I go, forlorn!
My smiling fields, where harvest waves,
My peaceful hut, I love so well;
My fathers bones, and mossgrown graves,
A long farewell!
My outcast babes, that lingering stand
And weep to leave your mothers grave,
From the oppressors greedy hand—
What power can save?—
Thou great good Spirit whom we fear
Are thy red children all forgot?
Dost Thou not mark each bitter tear,
Nor heed our lot?
We go from all our hearts love best
On to the dark Pacific wave
And the poor Indian ne’er can rest
But in his grave!
“Few people comparatively are capable of Friendship; and still fewer
have all the qualifications one would choose in a Friend—The
fundamental point is a virtuous disposition but to that should be
added a good understanding, a solid judgment, sweetness of temper
steadiness of mind, freedom of behaviour, & Sincerity of heart” Seldom
as these are found united I have been so fortunate as to find them
blended in my friend Mary—
ANN ELIZABETH LANDON
Litchfield March 24, 1826.
ON SEEING A PICTURE DRAWN BY A LADY.
How soft the tints, how sweet the face,
How mild expression glows and beams;
Beyond the fairest of our race,
Beyond the most extatic dreams.
No face so fair the painter knew,
That glow’d with feeling so refin’d,
When from abroad her eye withdrew;
And found the picture in her mind.
STEPHEN T HOSMER,
March 7th, 1826—
“When gathering clouds around I view
And days are dark & friends are few;
On him I lean, who not in vain
Experienced every human pain;
He knows my wants, allays my fears
And counts & treasures all my tears.
“When painful thoughts within me rise
And sore dismayed, my spirit dies,
Yet he who once vouchsafed to bear
The sickening anguish of dispair,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
“When sorrowing o’er some stone I bend,
That covers all that was a friend,
And from his love, his voice, his smile
Divides me for a little while;
Thou Saviour mark’st the tears I shed
For thou didst weep o’er Laz’rus dead
“And Oh! when I have safely past
Through every conflict, but the last,
Still, still unchanging watch beside
My painful bed—for thou hast died,
Then point to realms of endless day,
And wipe the _latest_ tear away
Your sincere friend
H. BEECHER
May you my dear Mary, when delighted you stray,
Where the beams of the West, shed a bright genial ray
Remember the friends, you have loved in your youth,
Whose bosoms still glow, with affection and truth.
May the home you shall choose, and the new friends you find,
Be as constant and faithful, as tender and kind,
And may you to them, be a pearl of great price,
The supporter of Truth, the suppressor of vice.
And when Time, shall have sprinkled your tresses with snow,
May the Sun of religion, cast such light on your brow,
So placid and lovely, so pure and benign,
That the beauties of youth, all with pleasure resign,
And when over your grave, is placed the green sod,
May the tears of the poor, the regrets of the good,
Pay a tribute of praise, to your mem’ry more dear,
Than is paid to the hero, or statesman’s proud bier
When the last solemn trumpet, resounds thro’ the skies,
May the friends of your heart, with the Saviour arise,
And join the bless’d throng, assembled above
In the region of holiness, glory, and Love
S PIERCE
O fear not thou to die!
Far rather fear to live, for Life
Has thousand snares thy feet to try
By peril, pain, and strife—
Brief is the work of Death;
But Life! the spirit shrinks to see
How full ere Heaven recalls the breath,
The cup of wo may be.
O fear not thou to die!
No more to suffer or to sin;
No snares without thy faith to try—
No traitor heart within:
But fear, oh! rather fear
The gay, the light, the changeful scene,
The flattering smiles that greet thee here
From Heaven thy heart may wean.
[Illustration:
PL. XLV.—PROSPECT HILL IN WATER-COLOR
From Mary Peek’s Album
]
O fear not thou to die!
To die and be that blessed one,
Who in the bright and beauteous sky
May feel her conflict done,—
Who feels that never more
The tear of grief, of shame shall come
For thousand wanderings from the Power
Who loved, and called her home!
SARAH PIERCE
Oh often wilt thy heart be fill’d
With gleeful mirth and rapture wild;
But when thy youth has flown.
There will be heav’nly seasons mild.
When thou wilt weep alone,
And make thy sorrows all thy own.
Then welcome those delicious tears
When the faint blush of evening wears
An aspect pure and meek;
And painful thoughts of brighter years
Alleviation seek,
In joys which only tears can speak—
Oft oer thy cheeks may such “drops roll”;
Oft mayst thou feel this “flow of soul”
And weep in extacy;—
But shouldst thou think who lov’d a stroll;
In solitude; like thee;
Shed half a tear to G. Y. C.—
GEO Y. CUTLER
THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.
“They grew in beauty, side by side,
They filled our house with glee—
Their graves are severed far & wide,
By mount, and stream, and sea!
The same fond mother bent at night
O’er each fair sleeping brow;
She had each folded flower in sight—
Where are those dreamers now?
One mid’st the forest of the west
By a dark stream is laid;
The Indian knows his place of rest,
Far in the cedar shade.
The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one,
He lies, where pearls lie deep;
He was the lov’d of all, yet none
O’er his low bed may weep.
One sleeps where southern vines are dress’d
Above the noble slain,
He wrapt his colours round his breast,
On a blood-red field of Spain.
And one, o’er _her_ the myrtle showers
Its leaves, by soft winds fann’d,
She faded ’midst Italian bowers,
The last of that bright band,
And parted thus, _they_ rest, who played
Beneath the same green tree,
Whose voices mingled as they pray’d
Around one parent knee!
They that with smiles lit up the hall,
And cheer’d with song the hearth—
Alas for Love! if _thou_ wert all,
And nought beyond on earth!”
“Peace be around thee, wherever thou rovest,
May life be for thee one summer’s day,
And all that thou wishest, & all that thou lovest
Come smiling around thy sunny way—
If sorrow e’er this calm should break
May ee’n thy tears pass off so lightly,
That like spring show’rs, they’ll only make
The smiles that follow shine more brightly.
As half in shade, and half in sun,
This world along its path advances,
May that side the sun’s upon
Be all that e’er shall meet thy glances.”
E WOLCOTT Litchfield
May 20^{th} 1826:
[Illustration:
PL. XLVI.—LOVE GROVE OR LOVE’S ALTAR ON THE BANTAM, IN WATER-COLOR
From Album of Mary Peck
]
“The charms which blooming beauty shews
From faces heavenly fair,
We to the lily & the rose,
With semblance apt, compare.
With semblance apt; for ah! how soon,
How soon they all decay!
The lily droops, the rose is gone,
And beauty fades away.
But when bright Virtue shines confess’d,
With sweet discretion join’d,
When mildness calms the peaceful breast,
And wisdom guides the mind.
Beyond the reach of time or fate
These graces shall endure,
Still, like the passion they create,
Eternal, constant, pure.—”
Litchfield May 27^{th} 1826 _Frederick Wolcott_
“I have nothing of my own Miss Peck, more worthy of a place in your
_album_ than the alternations of winter weather here in Litchfield
which I have thus “done into English verse.””
J^{NO} PIERPONT
How _dark_ are these skies! a deep drapery of cloud
Oer the smiling young face of the morning was flung:—
Noon gave not his light; and the same gloomy shroud
Round the throne of the moon, all the evening has hung.
Yet these dark skies have drest the earth
In a white robe that knows no stain.
So white-robed Virtue has her birth
In days of gloom, and nights of pain.
How _sad_ are these skies! Their bright hues are all dead!
The morning and evening no longer are fair!
They mourn their lost sun;—and the tears, that they shed,
Are frozen, as they fall through the sorrowful air.
Yet these sad skies, whose hosts of light
Have all their glittering banners furled,
These skies are sending down, to-night,
Their treasured jewels to our world.
So, in the hours when most we grieve,—
The hours of sadness and of sighs,
Believe me Mary,—we receive
The choicest blessings of the skies.
How _cold_ are these skies! Hoary Winter, reclined
On his snow-wreaths, the charms of earth’s bosom deforms;
And the fields, and the groves, and the heavens are resigned
To the rule, and the wrath of the Spirit of Storms,
Yet these cold skies the earth have drest
In saint like vesture, white and warm;
And spread a mantle o’er her breast
To shield it from the freezing storm.
So not the coldest blast that flies
O’er hope’s young flowers the heart shall chill,
If in the storm, it lowly lies,
And waits the All-Ruling Spirit’s will.
How _clear_ are these skies!—no heaven-ward mist
Going up from the earth, their bright arch dims.
Not a cloud, all the morning their fair face kissed;
Not a cloud, now at noon, in their blue depth swims.
Yet these clear skies, so pure, so bright,
So smiling,—o’er a cold world bend;—
A world where many a freezing night
And wintry day we’re doomed to spend.
Then, when the world looks cold on you,
And your lone heart with grief is swelling,
Look up!—for all the pure and true,
_There_ is a high and holy dwelling.
14 Jan^y. 1827.—
HYMN FOR A DYING BED.
Composed by C. Beecher, for L. Waite.
And is there one who knows each grief,
And counts the tears his children shed,
Whose soothing hand can bring relief
And smooth, and cheer their painful bed?
Saviour, invisible, yet dear!
Friend of the helpless, art thou near?
Forgive the faltering faith, & fears
Of this weak heart that seeks thine aid,
Forgive these often flowing tears,
Thou! who has fainted, wept, & pray’d—
Ah! who so well our wants can know,
As He who felt each human woe!
Yes, _Thou_ has felt the with’ring power
Of mortal weakness, & distress,
And _Thou_ hast known the mournful hour.
Of desolating loneliness—
Hast mourn’d thy friends, so faithless fled,
And wept in anguish o’er the dead.