the twins. “He done it!” she cried brokenly, the tears running down her
wrinkled cheeks. “Gabe done it. I seen ’em ez I wuz comin’ up the hil
frum the spring—him an’ that thar Bozeman boy er ridin’ off—but I didn’t
know ez ’twuz yer Gran’pap’s hat the boy wuz er wearin’ ’tel I got here
an’ seen it wuz gone, an’ then I knowed it hed looked pow’rful familiar.
But what did he do it fer? What did he do it fer?” her voice rose into a
little wail and her bent form shook with painful sobbing.
Bet stared at her, dumb; her round eyes filled with responsive tears
which she wiped away with the corner of her dress.
“Did he tell yer?” asked Liz. “He’s gone ter git married.”
Mrs. Freeler sank weakly into a chair, and her hands fell limp in front
of her. “I knowed ’twuz comin’,” she said, “but I ’lowed ez how he’d tell
me. He ain’t never married yet ’thout tellin’ me.”
“He never had time, I reck’n,” said the girl, and then recounted the
incident of the coat and the letter; the coming of the Bozeman boy and
the reading of the letter, the contents of which were fully detailed;
and, finally, the circumstance which had led to the taking of the hat.
The old woman interrupted her not at all, only when she came to the
mention of the hat, wiped her tears again with shaking hand. Then they
sat in silence, drifting after a while into desultory talk, as other
occasions like this came back to memory.
“I rickerleck,” said the grandmother, “when he brought yer ma home. It
was jes’ this time o’ year. She wuz the likeliest one of ’em all—I knowed
the minute I set eyes on her she’d do. The fust one wuz a peart enough
young thing, too, but she whirled in an’ died that very summer, an’ in
two months he married yer ma. You know how long it’s ben sence the las’
one was tuk. Well, Gabe never did lose no time!”
The sun’s rays grew less strong; she rose mechanically. “Git up some
light-’ood knots,” she said, as she gathered her milk pail. “They’ll be
late gittin’ here, an’ the nights is growin’ chilly. I’ll set up fer ’em
an’ have a blaze in the chimley, an’ some supper ready—he allus wants
sumpin’ hot when he comes in late.”
And when “the chillun” had gone to bed she sat through her lonely vigil,
pondering over the advents and the changes the room had known since
the time she and her “ole man” had been its first occupants, gazing
mournfully upon the string of hats still hanging as she had found
them, and going now and then to look out on the changing sky. She had
calculated the extra three miles around by Parson Damon’s would make it
twelve o’clock by the time they could arrive, and at eleven the moon had
disappeared and clouds were gathering thick and ominous. She moved about
restlessly, threw on a fresh pine knot, trimmed the small lamp, and was
just settling herself to renewed rumination when a low “Whoa!” fell on
her ears. Rising quickly, she flung wide the door so that the friendly
light streamed out.
“Well, ye’ve come!” she called into the darkness.
Gabe and the mare disappeared in the direction of the stable, and Luce
came in rather uncertainly after her cramped ride in the chill air.
“Yes,” she replied, blinking in the light, “an’ I brung yer this,”
holding out an old woolen hat. “When Lige Bozeman come back er wearin’
it, I says, ‘That thar ain’t the hat you went off from here with,’ an’ he
says, ‘No, this yere’s one o’ ole man Freeler’s,’ an’ I says, ‘Well, jes
give it here, an’ I’ll take it back,’ I says. Which I did, knowin’ what
store you set by them hats—an’ here it is!”
The old woman was trembling violently. She looked at the girl with eyes
that saw only the lost and recovered treasure. When Luce had finished she
turned from her without a word, and, hurrying across the room, restored,
with little inarticulate cries of joy and love, the precious hat to its
place with the other ten, then, mounting a chair, fastened the end of
string to the joist again. Descending stiffly she turned to her with
glistening eyes.
“Ye’re welcome,” she said. “It’s the most I’ve ever said to any of ’em. I
inginerally waits to see how it’s goin’ to turn out—yer never kin tell.
But this time, I says, ye’re welcome—an’ Gabe’ll treat yer right; he
allus good to his wives. Yer know, Gabe’s a master han’ for marryin’!”
* * * * *
_Knowledge is not so much in knowing as in knowing how to know._
* * * * *
_It was Plautus who said: “To make any gain some outlay is necessary.”_
[Illustration: Photo by Julie Royster, Raleigh, N. C.]
MEMORIES
O mystic Land of Smiles and Tears,
O Land that Was and Is,
Alone—unchanging with the years—
The Land of Memories.
—JOHN TROTWOOD MOORE.
Matthew Fontaine Maury
PAPER BY MRS. H. P. COCHRANE, FRANKLIN, TENN. AND MRS. MARY LEWIS
PRESTON, VA.
It seems but fitting that those who are interested in the great seaman’s
life should know something of his ancestors and early life.
His maternal ancestor in America was Dudas Minor, an English gentleman
who received large grants of land from King Charles II and settled in
Virginia.
[Illustration: Matthew Fontaine Maury.]
On the father’s side he was of Huguenot descent. Rev. Jas. Fontaine thus
gives an account of Maury’s ancestor, Jean de la Fontaine, a French
nobleman who held an exalted position in the court of Francis I:
When the “Edict of Nantes” was revoked the persecution of the Protestants
followed, and Fontaine was a shining light for the Catholics, and it
was deemed advisable to get rid of so prominent a heretic as soon as
possible. A band of ruffians were dispatched on the memorable St.
Bartholomew’s eve, and Fontaine and his wife were dragged from their beds
and their throats cut. “Oh, my children!” exclaimed the narrator, “let
us not forget that the blood of martyrs flows in our veins.” This may
explain the strong religious bent of Maury’s nature, which was evident to
all long before he connected himself with the Episcopal Church.
He was born near Fredericksburg, in Spottsylvania County, Va., January
24, 1806. When he was four years old his parents moved to Tennessee and
settled near Franklin. Maury assisted his father and brothers on the
farm, and lived the life of the early settler in a new country. He thus
became a sturdy, healthy boy. Here in the wilderness schools and churches
were alike few and far between, and the education of the pioneer’s
children was derived at home, or in the “old held school.” Plain living
and high thinking was the motto in the Maury household.
Matthew’s father was strict in the religious training of his family. He
would assemble them night and morning to read the Psalter for the day
antiphonally, and in this way so familiar did the barefooted boy become
with the Psalms of David that in after life he could cite a quotation
and give chapter and verse, as if he had the Bible open before him.
Surrounded by simple and pure influences, Maury passed his youth. He
possessed a deep and inquiring mind and an insatiable craving for truth.
Perhaps his greatest mental strength lay in the direction of mathematics.
“My first ambition,” he says, “to become a mathematician was excited
by an old cobbler, Neal by name, who lived not far from my father’s
home, and who used to send the shoes home to his customers with the
soles scratched all over with little x’s and y’s.” Maury was sent to
the Harpeth Academy, taught by the Rev. James Otey, first Bishop of
Tennessee, and Wm. Hasbrouck, afterwards a prominent lawyer of New
York. Here his brilliant mind and studious habits won the esteem of his
teacher, which lasted through life.
Maury had an exceeding fondness for the sea, which was fostered by the
adventures of his elder brother, who entered the United States navy when
but thirteen years of age. When Maury made known his determination to
accept the position of midshipman, which the Hon. Sam Houston obtained
for him, his father did not command him to decline; but he did not
approve it, and would not give him any financial aid, or even his
blessing. This was a great grief to Maury, but he had put his hand on
the helm, and there was no turning back. So, borrowing a horse, and with
only thirty dollars in his pocket, and the limited experience of nineteen
years, he set out to seek his fortune. There was no naval academy, and
the young middy began his duties and his studies on board a man-of-war.
What powers of concentration he possessed, with what unflagging zeal he
pursued his studies, proving by his subsequent career that genius is the
capacity for labor. William Irving, brother of Washington Irving, loaned
him many books.
During his first year of service his frigate, the Brandywine, conveyed
Lafayette back to France. The great Frenchman was much attracted by the
young midshipman, and had many a kind talk with him. In 1831 he passed
his examination, was appointed master of the sloop-of-war Falmouth, and
ordered to the Pacific on a four years’ cruise. It was on this voyage
that Maury conceived the idea of the famous “Winds and Currents Charts,”
which have done so much for the commerce of the world.
He returned to the United States in 1834 and married his cousin, Miss
Herndon, to whom he had been engaged several years. Shortly after this
marriage he went to Philadelphia to arrange for the publication of his
works on navigation. His book, like himself, had the true ring or true
metal, and won distinction In England and became the text-book of the
United States navy.
At this period Maury obtained leave of absence, and on his way to his
old home in Tennessee he was thrown from the top of a stage coach, which
resulted in an accident that lamed him for life and interrupted his
active service afloat. His leg was improperly set, had to be broken again
and reset, and this in a day when anaesthetics were unknown. This period
of enforced inactivity was most distressing to the ambitious lieutenant,
but proved a blessing in disguise, for it was then that his active mind
turned to and grasped the scientific part of his profession. In 1839
he began a series of articles on naval reform. He advised that a navy
yard and forts can be established on the Gulf coast. “They cannot be too
strongly fortified with outfits for shipping and implements of war.” He
advocated also a naval school for young midshipmen. This article led to
the building of forts at Key West and the Tortugas, and the establishment
of the naval academy at Annapolis.
In 1843 he wrote a notable treatise, entitled “The Gulf Stream and its
Causes.” These and other contributions to science were written under the
pen name of “Harry Bluff.” They attracted so much attention and were so
generally approved by the navy that the officers had great numbers of
the papers printed and circulated. When it became known that the young
Lieutenant Maury was the author of these papers, his ability and grasp
of mind were universally recognized, and his position as authority on
naval questions was established. Soon after he was placed in charge of
the Depot of Charts and Instruments, which office he developed into “The
National Observatory and Hydrographical Department of the United States.”
In a speech before the Senate John Bell said: “No man could have been
found in the country better fitted than Maury for this difficult duty,
and he worked with the zeal and energy expected of him.”
At this time he gave to the world the famous “Winds and Currents Charts
and Sailing Directions.” Seamen were at first distrustful of the new
charts, fearing that a route which could save from ten to twenty days on
an outward voyage, was fraught with danger. At last a Baltimore vessel
determined to follow the new chart. The voyage was a complete success,
for he made both trips in the time consumed under the old system in the
outward passage alone. There was now no hesitation about the use of the
charts. Active interest was excited and the world rang with the fame of
Maury’s “Winds and Currents Charts.” Copies were sent to every government
and distributed to men-of-war and merchantmen. It has been estimated
that “if the money he saved to the world were collected, a monument of
precious stones could be erected to his memory.” It was frequently urged
that Maury, who was drawing a pay small in comparison to his service,
might secure a copyright and thus reap material reward from his labors,
but his aim through life had been to make himself of use to his fellow
men, and he did not put in a claim for prize money.
While at the observatory he wrote his “Physical Geography of the Sea and
Its Meteorology.” This work met with great enthusiasm in England and
America, and was translated into many languages for use in the schools.
The interest now excited in meteorology and deep sea study enabled Maury
to assemble at Brussels, under the auspices of King Leopold, a congress
to which England, Russia, France, United States, Belgium and other
countries interested in commerce, sent delegates. At the close of the
congress Maury returned to America laden with honors and rich in fame.
Many of the learned societies of Europe elected him an honorary member.
Orders of knighthood were offered him and medals given him by nearly
every crowned head of Europe.
It is said that Humboldt received the Cosmos Medal as being the greatest
scientist in the world, but he presented it to Maury as being greater
than he, saying that he was the “founder of a new science.”
Maury now began to carry out his plan for meteorological co-operation
on land. To effect this he was obliged to travel much and deliver many
addresses. Out of these efforts grew the vast “Weather Bureau” of to-day.
As early as 1848 Maury had believed that a broad level plateau lay
under seas between Newfoundland and Ireland, and Congress dispatched
three vessels to perfect his discoveries, and to decide if it would be
practicable to lay the cable between Europe and the United States. He was
consulted by Cyrus W. Fields and others as to the kind of cable to be
used, the way and the time to lay it. At a dinner given in New York to
celebrate the first message across the Atlantic, Mr. Field rose and said:
“I am a man of few words. Maury furnished the brains, England the money
and I did the work.”
In 1858 Maury was advanced to the rank of Commodore, by special act
of Congress. Maury also originated the idea of water-marks and river
gauging along the Mississippi and its branches. In 1860 he had reached
the high tide of his worldly prosperity. He began to realize material
benefits from the fruits of his pen when the Civil War broke out. Mr.
Lincoln called for 75,000 troops. Virginia’s answer was secession and
a call upon her sons for support. Maury resigned his office and went
to Richmond. Nothing had been offered him by the Confederacy. He had
everything to lose, nothing to gain. He was a peace-loving man, a student
and philosopher; besides, he was greatly opposed to the war. But when
Virginia called he left his congenial pursuits, his achievements and
his discoveries for what he held to be his duty to his mother State.
When it became known abroad that he had severed his connection with the
United States, he was invited by France, Russia and Mexico to become
their guest, but he declined both. He entered the Confederate States
navy, with the rank of commodore and chief of the seacoast, harbor and
river defences of the South. He assisted in fitting out the Merrimac and
invented a formidable torpedo. In 1862 he established the Confederate
submarine battery service, at Richmond. In the same year he was ordered
to England to purchase torpedo material. After the war he was not allowed
to come home for several years.
In 1868 he, together with Tennyson and Max Muller, received the degree of
LL.D. from the University of Cambridge. In 1869 he accepted the chair of
physics in the V. M. I., at Lexington, Va. Here, surrounded by his family
and friends, he passed the remaining years of his life in peace and
rest. He died February 1, 1873.
I will conclude with two short extracts, the first from the Richmond
Dispatch, as follows:
“The joint resolutions introduced into the Legislature, memorializing
the President and Congress to erect, in the shape of a lighthouse on the
Ripraps, a monument to Commodore Matthew Fontaine Maury, opens the way
for the nation to efface from its escutcheon a blot that has long rested
there. Soon after the death of Maury a movement was inaugurated abroad
to build at a point off the coast of Brazil, an international lighthouse
as a memorial to the ‘Pathfinder of the Seas.’ It was intended that each
nation should contribute individually to the fund for this purpose, and
that the structure should be as enduring as money and human skill could
make it. The movement found great favor with foreign nations, and would
have materialized but for the attitude of the United States. When this
government was sounded on the subject it was found that the partisan
hatred and sectional prejudice was so strong at that time that, for
diplomatic reasons, the matter was dropped.
“It is designed that the proposed monument shall be dedicated in the
presence of the combined nations of the world. And should the United
States make the occasion practicable, the grandest naval demonstration
that has ever been witnessed anywhere, and in any age, may be expected.
“The great foreign nations in whose scientific societies and aboard
whose ships Maury’s name is a synonym of reverence, would delight in an
opportunity to pay such a tribute to his genius and to his services. By
affording such an opportunity the United States government would put
honor not only upon Maury, but upon itself, and reach a higher plane in
the eyes of the governments abroad than it has ever occupied since the
war. The memorial not only would be a monument to the ‘Wizard of the
Winds and Currents,’ but a perpetual reminder of the nation’s confidence
in republican institutions and in the fact that we are a reunited
people.”
The second extract is from a tribute paid him by the Hon. A. J. Caldwell
before the “Agricultural Society.” He said:
“A farmer lad, he was trained by his country for the sea. She made him a
sailor; God made him a genius. A genius like Ariel’s, which made wind and
tide and meteor’s glare his servants, and laid its wand upon the main of
the ocean and made it the servant of the servants of men. The maritime
world to-day would be lost if his great works were blotted out from human
memory.
“He first spoke of the submarine telegraphic plateau between Ireland and
Newfoundland, on which the ocean cable is laid. He first told the ocean
steamers of the ‘sea lanes,’ where, outside of the area of icebergs they
run safe from shore to shore. And such was the plenitude of his power,
such the comprehensive grasp of his reason, and the fullness of the
blessing which his genius bestowed upon the world, that, as experience
and time go by, his scientific methods are adapting themselves to the
needs of every tiller of the soil in every State of the Union and nation
of the earth. The Signal Service, with its daily weather reports, its
prognostications, control the actions of every intelligent agriculturist
in the land to-day.
“With Promethean hand he snatched the meteoric fires from heaven and
lit up the altars of industry. He is dead and gone; but what Columbus
was to discovery, Newton to astronomy, LaPlace to physics, Humboldt to
national history, Maury was to navigation, meteorology and agriculture.
The winds and currents of the ocean bear his name around the watery
world. The lowing herd, the bleating flock housed by him from the storm,
the flowering meads and golden fields which filled with the shouts and
laughter of happy toil are memorials on the lands. His memory will
brighten as the years go by, and the blessings of his genius will reach
every household and the gratitude of mankind will follow him where sweet
fields beyond the swelling flood stand dressed in living green.”
Read before the D. A. R., June 30, by
MRS. H. P. COCHRANE.
The Daughters of the American Revolution plant this tree in honor of
Commodore Matthew Fontaine Maury, that they may show in this simple way,
here in his old home, how they reverence his name. Also by this act that
they may help to remove the stain, the disgrace to the American people
that no monument has been raised to his memory. This small beginning,
they earnestly hope, will lead to greater endeavor. To this end this
Chapter has recently endorsed a petition asking the co-operation of
the Convention of National Daughters, composed of 7,000 ladies, to
memorialize Congress to erect a light-house to his memory, to efface from
the nation a blot which has long rested there. This, indeed, has been the
third attempt. Soon after the death of Maury a movement was inaugurated
abroad to build on the coast of Brazil an international lighthouse as
a memorial to the “Pathfinder of the Seas.” It was intended that each
nation should contribute individually to the fund for this purpose,
and that the structure should be as enduring as money and human skill
could make it. It would have materialized, but for the attitude of the
United States. When this government was sounded on this subject it was
found that partisan hatred and sectional prejudice were so strong at
the time that, for diplomatic reasons, it was dropped. Afterwards the
Virginia Legislature petitioned the President and Congress to erect a
light-house on the Ripraps, off the coast of Virginia, in the Chesapeake
bay. It was designed that the proposed monument should be dedicated in
the presence of the combined nations of the world, and to be the greatest
naval demonstration that had been witnessed anywhere and in any age. How
fitting if this could be done at the proposed exposition at Jamestown, in
1907. It is but meet that he should receive the highest acknowledgment of
his greatness, not only in reparation, but in gratitude, for it has been
said if the money Maury has saved to the world by his charts on the winds
and currents and navigation generally, were collected, it would be enough
to build a monument of precious stones to his memory, not to speak of the
saving of human life. But Humboldt paid him the highest compliment when
he presented him with the Cosmos Medal, which he received as being the
greatest scientist of the world. He said Maury was greater than he.
It seems particularly appropriate that this tree should be planted in
the shadow of this school building, as Maury’s text-book is used here to
instruct the children.
And now, Ladies of the American Revolution, I feel that we honor
ourselves in paying this tribute to one who, by his goodness, as well as
his greatness, has his “name written in the Hall of Eternal Fame.”
The following paper was also received by Trotwood’s, written by Mrs. Mary
Lewis Preston, Seven Mile Ford, Va.:
In the little mountain village of Lexington, Va., on February 1, 1873,
there passed from earth one of her most choice souls, great in mind,
earnest in work, simple in faith, courted by every civilized nation!
His end was so beautifully simple and childlike that even the newspapers
far and near rang with it. This great man, when called by the God who
made him, simply lifted his hands in the attitude of a little child
expecting to be taken up into the arms of a loving father, and died in
that attitude.
This was significant of his character. He was too learned to be doubting,
too great for shams, too gentle and trusting for affectation.
This man was Matthew Fontaine Maury, “The Pathfinder of the Sea,” born in
Spottsylvania County, Va., January, 10, 1806, and was taken by his father
to Tennessee in his fourth year.
In 1825 he was appointed midshipman in the United States navy, making
his first cruise in the Brandywine, on the coast of Europe and in
the Mediterranean. In 1826 he made a cruise around the world in the
Vincennes. In 1831 he was master of the sloop-of-war Falmouth, but was
soon acting first lieutenant on the Dolphin, then transferred to the
frigate Potomac, in which he returned to the United States.
At the age of 28 he published his first work, “Maury’s Navigation,” which
was at once adopted as a text-book in the navy!
He was at this time selected as astronomer and offered the place of
hydrographer to the exploring expedition to the South Seas, but declined.
In 1837 he was made lieutenant, and not long after met with the accident
which lamed him for life.