Tuesday, July 6th, 1802.
Arrived in Salem, met Mrs. Derby at the door who received us joyfully.
At tea-time saw the children, fine boys, very fond of Ellen and are
managed by their Father with great judgment. How few understand the true
art of managing children, and how often is the important task of forming
young minds left to the discretion of servants who caress or reprove as
the impulse of the moment compels them. Here are we convinced of the
great necessity that Mothers, or all ladies should have cultivated
minds, as the first rudiments of education are always received from
them, and at that early period of life when the mind is open to every
new impression and ready to receive the seeds which must form the future
principles of the character. At that time how important is it to be
judicious in your conduct towards them! In the evening Mr. Hasket Derby
came in on his return from New York; he is a fine, majestic-looking man,
tho’ he strikes you rather heavy and unwieldy on his first appearance;
he says little, yet does not appear absent,—has travelled much, and in
his manners has an easy unassuming politeness that is not the
acquirement of a day.—Wednesday morning had an agreeable tete-a-tete
with Ellen, talked over all our affairs: in the afternoon rode out to
Hersey Derby’s[27] farm, about 3 miles from Salem; a most delightful
place! The gardens superior to any I have ever seen of the kind;
cherries in perfection! We really feasted! There are 3 divisions in the
gardens, and you pass from the lower one to the upper thro’ several
arches rising one above the other. From the lower gate you have a fine
perspective view of the whole range, rising gradually until the sight is
terminated by a hermitage. The summer house in the center has an arch
thro’ it with 3 doors on each side which open into little apartments,
and one of them opens to a staircase by which you ascend into a square
room the whole size of the building; it has a fine airy appearance and
commands a view of the whole garden; two large chestnut trees on each
side almost shade it from the view when seen from the sides; the air
from the windows is always pure and cool, and the eye wanders with
delight and admiration over the extensive landscape below, so
beautifully variegated with the charms of nature. Imagination luxuriates
with delight, and as it plays o’er the beauties of an opening flower,
imperceptibly wanders to the first principles of nature, its wonderful
and surprising operation; its harmony and beauty. The room is ornamented
with some Chinese figures and seems calculated for serenity and peace.
’Tis like the pavilion of Caroline, and I almost looked around me for
the music of the Guitar and books; but I heard not the tramplings of
Lindorf’s horse, nor did I sing to hear the echo of his voice,—“Listen
to love, and thou shalt know indifference or bless the foe;” certain it
is, however, I thought of Caroline the moment I entered. We descended,
and passing thro’ the arch, proceeded to the hermitage, which terminated
the garden. It was scarcely perceptible at a distance. A large
weeping-willow swept the roof with its branches and bespoke the
melancholy inhabitant. We caught a view of the little hut as we advanced
thro’ the opening of the trees; it was covered with bark,—a small low
door, slightly latched, immediately opened at our touch. A venerable old
man was seated in the centre with a prayer-book in one hand, while the
other supported his cheek, and rested on an old table, which, like the
hermit, seemed moulding to decay; a broken pitcher, a plate and tea-pot
sat before him, and his tea-kettle sat by the chimney; a tattered
coverlit was spread over a bed of straw, which tho’ hard might be
softened by resignation and content. I left him impressed with
veneration and fear which the mystery of his situation seemed to create.
We returned to the house, which was neat and handsome, and from thence
visited the Greenhouse, where we saw oranges and lemons in
perfection,—in one orange tree there were green ones, ripe ones and
blossoms. Every plant and shrub which was beautiful and rare was
collected here, and I looked around with astonishment and delight; at
the upper end of the garden there was a beautiful arbour formed of a
mound of turf, which we ascended by several steps formed likewise of
turf, and ’twas surrounded by a thick row of poplar trees which branched
out quite to the bottom and so close together that you could not see
through,—’twas a most charming place, and I know not how long we should
have remained to admire if they had not summoned us to tea. We returned
home, and Mr. Hasket Derby asked if we should not like to walk over to
his house and see the garden,—we readily consented, as I had heard much
of the house. The evening was calm and delightful, the moon shone in its
greatest splendor. We entered the house, and the door opened into a
spacious entry; on each side were large white marble images. We passed
on by doors on each side opening into the drawing-room, dining-room,
parlor, etc., etc., and at the farther part of the entry a door opened
into a large, magnificent oval room; and another door opposite the one
we entered was thrown open and gave us a full view of the garden below.
The moon shone with uncommon splendor. The large marble _vases_, the
images, the mirrors to correspond with the windows, gave it so uniform
and finished an appearance, that I could not think it possible I viewed
objects that were real, every thing appeared like enchantment,—the
stillness of the hour, the imperfect light of the moon, the novelty of
the scene, filled my mind with sensations I never felt before. I could
not realize every thing and expected every moment that the wand of the
fairy would sweep all from before my eyes and leave me to stare and
wonder what it meant. You can scarcely conceive any thing more superb.
We descended into the garden, which is laid out with exquisite taste, an
airy irregularity seems to characterize the whole. At the foot of the
garden there was a summer house, and a row of tall poplar trees which
hid every thing beyond from the sight, and formed a kind of walk. I
arrived there and to my astonishment found thro’ the opening of the
trees that there was a beautiful terrace the whole width of the garden;
’twas twenty feet from the street, and gravelled on the top, with a
white balustrade round; ’twas almost level, and the poplar trees so
close that we could only occasionally catch a glimpse of the house. The
moon shone full upon it, and I really think this side is the most
beautiful, tho’ ’tis the back one. A large dome swells quite to the
chamber-windows and is railed round on top and forms a delightful
walk,—the magnificent pillars which support it fill the mind with
pleasure. We returned into the house; and on passing the mirrors I
involuntarily started back at seeing so much company in the other room.
We entered the drawing-room which is superb, furnished with blue and
wood color. There was the Grand Piano, the most charming Instrument I
ever heard. Mr. and Mrs. Derby, Mr. Hasket D., Frank Coffin and myself
were the party, and I was requested to play, and took my seat at the
Instrument, and had just begun playing, when a slight noise in the entry
made me turn my head. A gentleman entered and was introduced as Mr.
Grey; made a most graceful bow, took his seat, and I resumed my playing.
We rose to depart, and Mr. G. accompanied us home. I was delighted with
his conversation, which was sensible, unassuming, and agreeable. I
scarcely saw his face, as there was no light.
Thursday at home all day. In the evening walked in the garden. The
evening was uncommonly fine. The moon shines brighter in Salem than
anywhere else; here too is an elegant garden, full of fruit trees, the
walks kept as nice as possible, and shaded on each side by plum trees;
very handsome summer house where we sat an hour or two. Rambled in the
garden all the evening, which was the finest I ever saw, so very light,
that, as Shakespeare says, “’twas but the daylight sick, only a little
paler.” There is something in a fine moonlight evening exquisitely
soothing to the soul. I have felt as if I could melt away with the
exquisite enthusiasm of my sensations. We were called into the house and
found Mrs. West, a sister of Mrs. Derby’s; but more of her by-and-bye.
Friday Dr. Coffin arrived, and Dr. Lathrop and Hasket Derby dined with
us and set out for Boston.
The following letter, written by Martha Coffin, Eliza’s most intimate
friend, and descriptive of a visit that she paid to Salem, will be found
of interest.
June 29, 1800.
My dear Ellen:
I have never told you all about my visit to Salem. I passed my time as
you may imagine very charmingly, and had I your pen or your talent at
description I would endeavor to give you some ideas of the house, the
gardens, and the farm; but it is _Impossible_.
_The Hermitage_ more than answered my expectations. It is everything
which we see described in novels, and which I thought was not to be
found in reality.
The garden beyond description beautiful, does indeed exceed anything of
the kind I ever saw. Ten thousand different kinds of flowers from all
quarters of the globe. Fruit of every kind in abundance. A delightful
Summer house in the middle of the garden, furnished quite in the rural
style; and from the chamber where they sometimes drink tea is the most
beautiful prospect you can imagine.