t anh cimee OF THE eu. Wafter =?lj)l>i6on^ X!f^9^ Columbia ^nttier^ttp THE LIBRARIES Bequest of Frederic Bancroft 1860-1945 COL. JOHN ADDISON. From an original portrait in the possession of the family. One ^un^xt\> ^eare dRjo OR THE Life and Times OF THE REV. Walter Dulany Addison 1 769-1848 COMPILED FROM ORIGINAL PAPERS IN POSSESSION OF THE FAMILY. BY HIS GRANDDAUGHTER, ELIZABETH '•HESiEl.IUS • V. aR4\AY : : : : : : :•; :*; . • * • •• » • * • • • • • . • : - ^ • •.; GEO.'w. JACOBS & CO 1895 Copyright, 1895, by E. H. Murray. fl)5 ■)r * * «• 1, 1 It t t e * t € c t • » « • < t I /• t*< "• «.' *. <■ PRESS OF THE FRIEDENWALD CO. BALTIMORE, MD. ^/6-9/ TO MY PASTOR AND FRIEND, THE REV. THOMAS J. PACKARD, THIS LITTLE BOOK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED. (preface. Gentle Reader : It has been suggested to me that my book reqinres a Preface^ or rather a woi^d of apology that /, who am not an author, should offer to you a book which, perhaps, is, properly speaking, not even a book, but simply a bundle of relics of another age that I have bound together zvith the slenderest of threads. When I confided my MSS some time ago to a literary friend, he said that it was '' very ijttere sting material ^ and a distinguished publisher used the same expression, assuring me, hozvever, that my '' material " IV as '' valuable " and zuorthy of being publisJied. Evidently this is only the " materiar' of a book, yet if you find in it but a small portion of the profit, as well as of the enjoyment, it has afforded me, you will not ask for a7i apology. 3n^trobuc^ton* NE hundred years ago, August 1793, the Rev. Walter Dulany Addison was ordained at Easton, Maryland, by the Right Rev. Thomas J. Claggett. I propose to celebrate the centennial of this event, so important in the life of the subject of it — and not without its influence on our then infant Church — by collecting in a little book the various memorials of him that have been already published, adding to them what other information I can gather from those family letters, journals and writings within my reach, which appear to me to throw light on tl:e history of a life spent in a singularly close and faithful fol- lowing of his Master and Lord. For he was one of those "holy and humble men of heart" who have been a bless- inor to the earth in all ages: as well in our time as when the Benedicite was first sung. No age is so dark but that some such characters have been found, to the praise of God and the good of their fellow-men. Generally, as in this case, they have led unobtrusive lives, which spoke to an evil world, as the still small voice of conscience speaks to an evil heart. It was in the summer of 1893 that the idea of writing this memoir first occurred to me. The enthusiasm which has lately been developing for Colonial relics and Colonial histories began to excite in me a curiosity to examine the viii 3*^^^^^wcticn. old letters and papers in my own possession: and I soon found myself intensely interested in them. As I read on, the passion for the past which is in the air took possession of me, and I became absorbed in the journals and letters of my great-grand and great-great-grandparents, and their friends and relations. In the light of these records of their daily life, their characters, and even their persons, seemed to loom out of the dim past and to live again: their various occupations, their amusements, even their dress, and some- times, though more rarely, their graver thoughts, religious and political, were all reflected there. They lived in that transition period when the old colonial civilization was cul- minating in the birth of a new era, and a new empire, and yet they seem to have been surprisingly unconscious of the importance of the scenes through which they were passing, little realizing the import of the events then happening, which, I am sorry to say, they were generally disposed to condemn, for most of these old writers were staunch Tories. Among the personages who live again in these old records, the figure of my grandfather stands out in bold relief (although there is among them all scarcely a line of his own writing"^), a figure entirely unique in its simplicity and unworldliness — or " other-worldliness," as Sydney Smith, I think, calls it; a man of great individuality and strength of will, full of zeal, and of remarkable independence of thought, who, having in very early life accepted for himself the highest ideal, pursued it with unwavering purpose until his life's end. As I read, I became possessed with the desire * Since writing the above, I have, through the kindness of Miss Whittingham, seen a number of his letter*, in possession of the Diocesan Library in Baltimore ; some of which I have by permission copied, and they will be found in Part II of this book. 3nti:o^uction. ix to rescue from oblivion, and preserve for his descendants, the history of a Hfe so worthy of their veneration. But while I continued my work, this character, as it has unfolded itself to me, seemed so beautiful in its purity and singleness of pur- pose, that I have thought others as well as those for whom I at first intended it, might be attracted by it, more especially as the time in which he lived, was fraught with deepest con- sequences to Church and State. It was during his childhood that those causes were developed that led to the birth of this new Empire in the West, and to the reconstruction and regeneration of the Protestant Episcopal Church in America. When he arrived at man's estate, both Church and State were just emancipated from the rule of the mother-country; and by the years immediately ensuing, their character was to be in a large measure determined. When we look upon the grandeur of this country, so clearly brought before us in the Columbian Exposition, we cannot, in view of the stupendous growth of this mighty nation be surprised at the passion that has seized our people to revive every incident connected with its early formation, and to assert every individual claim of descent from those who took part in its early development. If our interest is great in the growth of the State, it should be no less so in that of the Church. Those who were so fortunate as to have attended the last General Convention of the P. E. Church at Baltimore, could not fail to have been greatly impressed by the dignity and imposing character of the body of men there assembled. One could not listen to the debates on the important ques- tions submitted to them — questions affecting the welfare of the world and the advancement of Christ's kingdom among men — without feehng a higher respect for human nature, and for the Church which these men represented. It should fill our hearts with wonder and praise to look back upon the feeble beginnings from which that Church has been developed. The little one has become a thousand; and while we rejoice in this growth, wonderful as it is, shall we not remember gratefully the men who were used of God to lay the foundations on which so grand a ctnicture has been raised? Among these men, WALTER DULANY ADDISON was a diligent and faithful laborer. His post among the builders, or perhaps we should say restorers, was a very important one, for the parish in which he lived included the new seat of government. A handsome memorial window in old St. John's Church, Georgetown, now informs us that he " founded the church in this parish in the year 1794." This was the year after his ordination. At that time there was no Episcopal church in Georgetown, or in the new City of Washington. He had another parish, but undertook the work as a missionary. Nowhere in the country could the influence of a good man's life have been more important. Nearly fifty years have passed since he entered into rest, and few are left who remember him — hardly one who ever heard him preach; yet of his life and work, a singularly minute record is preserved in the writings of others; not only of his life, but of the early surroundings by which his character was doubtless moulded. These are in themselves interesting as belonging to the Old Colonial Period, and as throwing light on the social life of that time, of late the sub- ject of so much research. 3ntro^uc(ton. xi The chief sources from which this work has been compiled are the unpubHshed Recollections of my uncle, the late Dr. E. B. Addison, written for his children; copies of which he kindly sent to me, from time to time, as they were written. A short sketch of his life, partly dictated to his son, Wm. Meade Addison, by my grandfather himself. " Old Fam- ilies, Ministers and Churches," by Bishop Meade; and a bio- graphical sketch written by his old friend, the Rev. Ethan Allen, for Sprague's "American Pulpit." I am also indebted to Mrs. Commodore Ridgely's kind- ness for permission to use the papers of her grandfather, Major Walter Dulany. E. H. M. West River, Md., August, 1893. ^onttniB PART I. CHAPTER I. Annapolis in Colonial Times. — Luxurious Habits of the Inhabitants. — First Newspaper. — First Theatre in the Colonies. — The Severn and the Spa. — Letter from Rebecca Dulany to her Sisters. — Her Marriage to Thomas Addison 3 CHAPTER n. 1667-1739. Col. John Addison. — Letters from Joseph Addison mentioned by the Rev. Mr. Boucher. — Birth of Walter Dulany Addison. — The Old Dulany House. — Daniel Dulany's Romantic History, — Letter from the Lord Proprietor ON the Occasion of his Death. — Walter's Early Train- ing BY his Grandmother, Mary Grafton Dulany. — Fare- well Letter of Richard Grafton to his Daughter, — Its Influence on his Posterity 13 CHAPTER III. 1766-1776. State of the Church in Annapolis and elsewhere, — Rev. Mr. Boucher's Verses. — Letters to Lord Bishop of London. — Rev. Mr. Allen's Challenge to Mr. Samuel Chew. — Caned in the Street by Daniel Dulany. — His Revenge. — The Tragical Conclusion of the Affair 27 xiv €onten(0. CHAPTER IV. Death of Walter Uulany. — Beginning of Sorrows. — Death OF Thos. Addison. — Political Disturbances. — Burning of THE Peggy Stewart. — Disaffected Citizens invited to LEAVE.— The Clergy. — Rev. Mr. Boucher's Experiences. — His Return to England. — Dedicates a Book to General Washington 42 CHAPTER V. 1774-1783. Family Letters. — Dulany Manor confiscated. — Letters from the Refugees in London. — Peace. — Mrs. Siddons ... 50 CHAPTER VI. 1784-1789. Walter and his Brothers set sail for England. — Met in London by Mr. Boucher. — Homespun Clothes. — Put to School. — Epsom. — An Important Accident. — Dr. Barrow's School. — Return Voyage. — Zeal without Discretion. — Fury of a Sailor. — Arrival at Annapolis . . .72 CHAPTER VIL 1784-1789. Welcome Home. — Society at Annapolis. — Elegance of the Ladies. — Entertainments in their Honor. — His Passion FOR Dancing. — Misgivings. — Meets Mrs. Hesselius. — "Primrose." — The Methodists. — Need for Earnest Men. — Resolves to enter the Ministry. — "Laying aside every weight." 80 CHAPTER VIII. 1789-1793- Mrs. Hesselius. — "The Family Picture." — Education of Young Ladies. — Correspondence between Major Dulany AND his DaUGHIER. — THE FRENCH OFFICERS. — A DOUBLE Marriage at Primrose 92 CHAPTER IX. 1793-1799. Ordination. — Bishop Claggett. — State of the Church. — Opposition of his Rector. — War against Fashionable Amusements. — Appointed Rector of Queen Anne's Parish. — Resigns 107 CHAPTER X. 1799-1801. Accident to Mrs. A. — A Year in Annapolis. — III Health. — Arrangements for the Emancipation of his Slaves. — Prevailing Views of Slavery. — Threatened War with France. — Assists in building a Methodist Church. . , 121 CHAPTER XI. 1803-1809. Hart Park repurchased. — Opens a School there. — Made Rector of Broad Creek Parish. — Boldness in reproving Vice. — Benevolence. — "Little Tom." — War against Duelling. — Mason and McCarty. — Mr. Carr and Mr. Baker. — Bishop Meade's Account supplemented by Dr. Addison. — Interview with Jefferson. — Vigorous and Successful Meas- ures. — Description of his Preaching in Washington. . 131 CHAPTER XII. Home Life at Oxon Hill. — Colonial Houses. — Dr. Addison's Recollections of his Mother Visit to Berkeley Springs. — Bishop Meade studies with him. — Death of Mrs. Addison. — His Grief and continued Remembrance. — Dr. Balch visits him 150 PART II. . CHAPTER XIII. 1809-1817. Accepts a Call to St. John's, Georgetown. — Historical Account of St. John's. — Battle of Bladensburg, — Fall of Napoleon. — Mr. Key appointed Lay Reader 163 xvi Conttnte, CHAPTER XIV. 1817-1824. Trouble with his Eyes. — Rev. Reuel Keith appointed his Assistant. — Correspondence with Bishop Kemp. — Requests the Bishop's Approbation of a Weekly Service Dis- couragements. — His Resignation, and THt: Appointment of Rev. Stephen Tyng as his Successor. — Rock Creek. — Founding of the Theological Seminary at Alexandria. — Christian Fellowship with other Denominations . . 173 CHAPTER XV. 1824-1830. Threatened Blindness. — Loss of Fortune. — Sale of Oxon Hill. — Success of his Sons. — Causes of his Loss of Fortune. — Robert Morris. — Death of his Son, Francis Key. — Of his Daughter, Mrs. Murray 186 CHAPTER XVL 1830-1847. Unsuccessful Operation on his Eyes. — Resigns his Charge — Description of him at this Time. — Ordering of his Time. — Bishop Meade's Description of him. — His Fondness for the Young. — Visits to his Friends. — Removal to Balti- more 195 CHAPTER XVn. The End. His Last Days. — Letter from W. M. A. to Rev. Mr. Allen. — Memorial in Southern Churchman. — Joseph Addison and Walter Addison compared. — Bishop Whittingham's Tri- bute to his Memory 207 &wt of JPfue^rafione Portrait of Col. John Addison. Frontispiece. Old Annapolis The Old Dulany Mansion . 17 Dulany Arms quartered with Smith, from the Tomb of Mrs. Daniel Dulany . Portrait of Mrs. Hesselius Charlotte and Betsy Hesselius Primrose ...... OxoN Hill Manor House St. John's, Broad Creek . Stairway at Oxon Hill Portrait of Rev. Walter Dulany Addison St. John's, Georgetown Addison Arms, from an old Tankard Genealogical Chart • • 19 • • • 83 • • • 92 • • . 96 • • . 107 • • • 131 • • . 150 SON . . 163 • . 173 • • • 195 • • . 216 ^ / -r I have received your letters and am very glad to hear you have spent your time so agreeably since I left you. I hope you will excuse my writing you all in one letter, but I have so little time to write in, that I am obliged to do it. In the first place we went off mighty well, but about twelve it grew quite calm, and we were kept all night upon the Water. There were two beds in the cabin. Uncle Young took one and I the other, and Mr. Wolstenholme and Mr. Potts lay under the forecastle of the boat and slept very soundly, they both said. The wind came up fresh, about one o'clock at night, and we landed at Rousby Hall about seven o'clock. Now, I suppose Mollie will envy me my happiness when I tell her how much I have had of George Fitzhugh's company. As soon as we had done breakfast Ben Potts went home, and Mrs. Plater, the two Miss Tayloes, George Fitzhugh and myself, went upstairs where we were very merry as you may judge by the company, for Miss Tayloe is fully as lively and diverting as George Fitzhugh. We dined at Colonel Fitz- hugh's and after dinner we all set off to Colonel Plater's in Col. Tayloe's vessel and got there to tea. After tea the young ladies played on the guitar, and sung for us, and then we took a long walk in the garden, and after that, we had the guitar again, and a great deal of Mr. Fitzhugh's company. I never saw him in better spirits, or appear to be happier. What contributes much to his happiness is the company of Miss Betsy Tayloe. It is not to be wondered at, for she is a very fine, agreeable young lady. Perhaps, Molly, you may think I have said all this to tease you, but upon my word I am in earnest, and if you had seen them as much as I have you would have given him over for lost, and I would have you provide another string to your bow, for I am certain you stand not the slightest chance with him. We spent a very merry evening and in the morning uncle Young, and I got up early and came here. We found Mrs. Lowe and Aunt Young at Breakfast, and Miss Betsy Brooke, an old virgin, with them. We were invited next day to Mrs. Plater's to her little boy's Christening. I went, but Aunt Young could not leave the old Virgin, and so was disappointed. I never saw a handsomer entertainment. There was a good deal of company and we were extremely merry. I stayed all night. Next day we were invited to Col. Barnes' to dinner, but only Mrs. Tayloe, Betsy and myself went. We all rid together in Col. Plater's chariot and four. Theres for you my girls ! When will any of you have such an honor? Though my lady Ogle, I beg your pardon: I dare say you have vanity enough to expect to have one of your own, though for my part I'm much afraid I shall never have the honor to ride in my sister's chariot: though there have more unlikely things happened. We had a very genteel dinner, and a great deal of merry conver- sation. G. F. was with us. We stayed to tea. Mrs. Tayloe and Betsy went to Col. Plater's, and I came home to aunt Young. Tuesday we had a good many gentlemen to din- ner but I shall not tell you who they were . . . Miss Becky, the author of this gay letter, was the eldest of the sisters, and could not have been more than fifteen when it was written. Two years after we find the following letter to her father, from a disconsolate lover, who afterwards became her hus- band: OxoN Hill, Potomack, May 30th, 1766. To Walter Dulany, Esq. Most Kind Sir : ^ly present condition will no longer allow me to remain in silence. How fain would I utter the tender feelings of my opprest heart. Permit me with gratitude and sincerity to return you thanks for your candid and compassionate letter in answer to mine — wrote you when I was in Annapolis — where you generously expressed your sentiments and acquainted me with your objections. Your remarks are very just and show the tender parent. But though your daughter is young, she may have as much prudence as one of more years: however I could wait with the greatest pleasure in hopes of a future reward. If you have, however, other ob- jections, I must desist and submit to my illfortune. If I had succeeded agreeably to my wishes I did not purpose bringing matters to bear for some considerable time: till I had discharged the duty and trust that was imposed on me as Executor to the estate of my late father. My desires are very great, to have a nearer Alliance"^ with *The mother of Mr. Dulany, and Mr. Addison's grandmother, Rebecca and Eleanor Smith, were sisters. cEnnapofte. ii your family, where I have observed to reign Harmony, Peace, and Contentment. The Parents glory in their Chil- dren and the Children rejoice in their parents: both seem happy in each other. May uninterrupted happiness con- tinue with you. If I could be admitted in your Family as one of them I should be satisfied. I have discovered in your Daughter an affability, and sweetness of temper, which will not fail to make the man happy who will have the good fortune to possess her, who- ever he may be. My prayer is that he may be worthy of her. If I thought it would disturb the peace of mind and contentment she enjoys, I would rather submit to the pres- ent load of affliction that now hangs upon me, and labor under it through life than to interrupt her happiness. My prayers and wishes shall always attend you and your family. May you be happy all your days, and live to see your Children's Children flourish and prosper around you! Which no one can more sincerely wish than, Sir, Y'r most obliged h'ble servant, Thomas Addison, Jr. In the Annapolis Gazette, December, 1767, we find the following entry: " On Monday evening last Thomas Addison to Rebecca Dulany, eldest daughter of Walter Dulany Esq. an agreeable young lady possessed of many amiable qualities." He died young, and we know little of him, except that my uncle says " during his life a good deal of state was kept up 12 One TEfun^v^'^ ^tavs ilgo. at Oxon Hill. His style on the road was a coach and four, with outriders. I have heard my father speak of the superb English coach horses, (I remember the names of two: Pop- pet and Eden) and also of the fine London built coach and liveried servants." To the kindness of Mr. H. M. Fitzhugh I am indebted for the following letter to his mother: To Miss Molly Dulany, at Mt. Airy. M}' Dear Girl : I am instructed and commanded by my Lady, to write to you which I have very readily & cheerfully undertaken, as it always renders me a pleasure to have any — the least con- nection or intercourse with one to whom I am so warmly and cordially attached: this by way of Preface, now^ to pro- ceed — it seems that there has been an appointment betwixt you & Becky to have a meeting at Mr. Bouchers: this will be impracticable — My Mother, being much indisposed has desired my sister not to leave her — & as my Sister can- not be at Home, Becky & myself intend to do ourselves the Pleasure of coming to Mr Calverts Tomorrow — to which place She has long had an inclination to go, but doubly so now, to see both them & you, & I need not tell you that this is my case also — I want much to say more to you but must decline it, as its late & the Boy is waiting Becky & our little ones join in love to you — & Respectful Compliments to Mr & Mrs Calvert & Family — yrs Sincerely & affectionately Thos. Addison. Friday Eve, May 7th, '73- CHAPTER II. His Birthplace and Ancestors. 1667-1739. OL. JOHN ADDISON, the great-grandfather of Thomas Addison, came to this country from Eng- land in the year 1667. He was brother to Laun- celot Addison, Dean of Litchfield — father of the celebrated Joseph Addison. He also had a brother An- thony, Rector of Abingdon and Chaplain to the Duke of Marlborough. In an old note-book of his grandson (the Rev. Henry Addison), which he kept while in England, is the following entry, in 1777-8: " St. Helen's Church at Abingdon is a spacious and hand- some building, in the Gothic style and decently ornamented. My great-uncle, Anthony Addison, B. D., Rector of this Church, died in 1719 and lies buried here under the altar." His brother Launcelot is buried in the Cathedral of Litch- field. Over* a door is to be seen the Addison arms, together with that of a noble lady who gave the money to restore the cathedral. Mr. Boucher, in an article written for the " Historia Cum- briensis," tells us that he had seen, while in Maryland, " sun- dry letters in the possession of Rev. Henry Addison, from Joseph Addison to his ancestor, in which were frequent allu- sions to their being of one family." 14 One J^untvzt '^eate dElgo. Mr. Boucher goes on to say: " That branch, which went to Maryland, became of note and still are so. They possess a noble estate on the banks of the Potomack, opposite Alex- andria and contiguous to the new Federal City, now build- ing there on a large scale. The family has long been dis- tinguished for their strong sense, fine taste and humour and exquisite style in writing. The Rev. Henry Addison was allowed to excel all his contemporaries at Queen's, in the writing of good Latin. Taking the side of the Government in the late confusions, which overturned the constitution of his country, he had the fortitude, though at an advanced age, to turn his back upon it with the indignant sentiment of the editor of Scipio, ' Ingrata terra ! ne ossa quidem ha- beas,' and returned to this kingdom with a friend and rela- tion who now feels a melancholy satisfaction in thus paying a last faithful though feeble tribute of affection to a man of great worth, whose memory he will ever honor. His saltern accumulem donis et fungar inani munere." In common with his family in England, John Addison was a Whig in politics, and w^e find his signature on an address of congratulation to King William. " He was a Privy Councillor of the intruding Government introduced by the Protestant Revolution." " In 1692 he was member of his IMajesties Council " and presiding Judge of Charles County. He also distinguished himself in the encounters of the colonists with the Indians, and was appointed colonel of the " Military' Establishment of the Colony." This redoubtable warrior and councillor was taken cap- tive some years after his arrival in this country by the charms of the Widow Dent. Their marriage occurred, I regret to (§ivt^iphu an^ cEnce0ior0. 15 say, little more than a year after the death of her first hus- band, but the many honors and attractions of the colonel may serve to account for her want of devotion to the mem- ory of the lamented Mr. Thomas Dent. She was the daughter of the Rev. William Wilkinson. From an article in Sprague's " American Pulpit " I copy the following sketch of him by the Rev. Mr. Allen: *' The Rev. William Wilkinson, with his wife, his two daughters and some indentured servants, in all nine persons, left the land of his fathers and crossed the ocean to plant himself here. Mr. W. came not to an endowed church or to a people capable of supporting him. He was the first clergyman of the Church of England who had come to the Province, though it had been settled sixteen years. There were, however, at this time several rude places of worship, •built of logs from the forest. They were located not far from the water-side, for the settlers all chose their residences on the banks of some or other of the beautiful creeks and rivers which served them as highways. These places of w^orship had lay-readers, by whom the service of the Church of England was performed and sermons were read." Mr. Wilkinson received a grant of nine hundred acres for the nine persons brought into the colony, and later we find that he took up 11,000 morg. Mr. Allen continues: " He early created an interest in himself and his ministry, which was shown by the legacies left him and the church. He acquired a character which caused his appointment as the guardian of the orphan, and his house became the home of the sick and the dying. In his will, still on record, he says: 'Imprimis — I give my soul to God and my body to i6 One 35wnt»re^ 'XjtavQ JI50. the earth whence it came, with humble confidence that both body and soul shall at the Resurrection receive a happy reunion and be made partakers of that happiness which is purchased by my blessed Redeemer Jesus Christ the Righteous.' Such were the hopes of this veteran pioneer of the Church among the scattered poor, in this then savage and benighted land." It was very probably through the influence of this good man that Col. Addison became leading commissioner in establishing St. John's Parish, Marvdand, and in building Broad Creek Church, of which the Rev. Walter D. Addison was afterwards rector. He was also a large subscriber and one of the Trustees to King William's School, at that time about to be established as a free school. Returning to England on business, he died intestate, " leaving consider- able wealth there, besides a very large landed estate in this^ country," which was afterwards increased and improved by his only son Thomas, who also became of great influence in the colony and in the Church. " He was Colonel of the militia, and Privy Councillor from 1721 to 1727 and Visitor of the Free Schools. He married first, Elizabeth Tasker, by whom he had two daughters, Rebecca and Eleanor; sec- ondly, Eleanor, daughter of Col. Walter Smith, and sister of Mrs. Daniel Dulany, by whom, he had a daughter and four sons, who wxre educated at Lowther, England, under the tuition of Mr. Wilkinson, one of the first scholars of his age." His eldest son, John, inherited the largest part of his estate and married Miss Susanah Wilkinson. They had two sons, Thomas and John, and two daughters, Ann, married to Mr. Carr, and Eleanor, to Rev. Jonathan Boucher. H X m o c r- > Z -< > z o z ,- ^ .VI : C '*' ■ Ji ? ' li^: Q^ivtgpCace an^ ilnceetore, i/ WALTER DULANY ADDISON, the eldest son of Thomas Addison and Rebecca Dulany, was born at Anna- poHs, January ist, 1769, at the. home of his maternal grand- parents, Walter and Mary Grafton Dulany, and as Rev. Mr. Boucher was the rector of St. Anne's he was doubtless bap- tized by him. Many persons now living can remember " the old Dulany house," with its beautiful gardens extend- ing to the water's edge. It was built for Daniel Dulany by an architect named Duff, who came to this country in 1728. It was sold to the government, with seven acres of ground, in 1808 by the executors of Major Walter Dulany. The following extract is from the " Ancient City " by Riley: " In 1883 one of the landmarks of the State fell. It was built by Daniel Dulany and was the residence of a talented family till 1808. In 1883 Captain Ramsay, the Superinten- dent of the Naval Academy, had it torn down to build a more modern residence for the Commandant. Congress, which had refused money for this purpose, resented the action and declared no money should be used to complete the offensive structure. There it remained till the end of the term of the offending superintendent, a monument of autocratic independence and congressional indignation." The present structure is said to be built as nearly as possible on the old plan and with the old brick. As Daniel Dulany was a very prominent figure in the colony in his day, and as his early history is not without a certain romance, perhaps a little sketch of him may be interesting. " He was a student of Trinity College, Dublin, when a quarrel with his stepmother induced his father to withdraw his allowance, and he was compelled to seek his fortune in the new world. To defray the expense of his passage he indentured himself to the captain for the cost of the trip, and was transferred on his. arrival in Maryland to Col. George Plater, Attorney-General of the Province, who soon discovered that he was well educated and a gentleman, and made him his clerk. He afterwards studied law in Col. Plater's ofhce. He was admitted to the Provincial Bar in 1710, and as a student of Law at Gray's Inn, London, Feb- ruary, 1 716. On his return to this country he married a daughter'of Gov. Plater, and after her death Rebecca Smith, daughter of Col. Walter Smith. For nearly forty years he held the first place in the confidence of the Proprietary and in the affections of the people. During that period he held the various offices of Alderman, City Councilman, and Re- corder of iVnnapolis, Attorney-General, Judge of the Ad- miralty, Commissary-General, Receiver-General, and Coun- cillor of the Province, which latter post he held under the administrations of Governors Bladen, Ogle, and Sharpe. He was also for several years leader of the country party in the Lower House. He died 1753, and his second wife's tomb (erected by himself and bearing his escutcheon quar- tered with Smith) may be seen in the churchyard at An- napolis." It is, however, so obscured by age that it was with great difficulty that this copy was made. The same arms are engraved on an old waiter in the possession of Mrs. Robert Gushing, of Boston. r HERE LIES THE REMAINS OF REBECCA LATE WIFE OF DANIEL DULANY OF ANNAPOLIS ESQ AND FOURTH DAUGHTER OF COLONEL WALTER SMITH. SHE FAITHFULLY AND DILIGENTLY DISCHARGED HER DUTY IN ALL RELATIONS OF A DAUGHTER A WIFE, A MOTHER, A FRIEND AND A NEIGHBOUR. SHE WAS VIRTUOUS AND CHARITABLE WITHOUT AFFECTATION SHE LIVED AN UNBLEMISHED LIFE AND DIED UNIVERSALLY LAMENTED THE i8th of MARCH 1737 AGED 41 YEARS. 20 ^ne ^un'i>vtt Tjtav^ il^o. The following epitaph was found among the papers of his son Daniel: 071 the Hon. Daniel Dulany. One of his Lordship's Council, Commissary General,, and formerly Attorney General, and Judge of the Court of Admiralty, in the province of Alaryland. In the discharge of each of these offices, he w^as conspicuous for his assiduity,, uprightness, and ability. But the first, gave him more ample scope for the exertion of his benevolent disposition and unblemished integrity. To the widow and orphan, he w^as ever a powerful protector, and the ignorant, he advised with clearness and condescension. To the schemes of de- signing men, he was an unrelenting enemy, and to the simple and oppressed, a firm and persevering friend. His conduct in every public station, every good citizen w^ould wish his successor to imitate. He was equalled by few in ability, and excelled by none, in integrity. In all the duties of a private character, wdiat he w^as, how amiable as a hus- band and father, a friend and a master, is remembered with the deepest sorrow, that cannot be described. Tlie Lord Proprietor to Walter Dulany, Esq. London, Apl. 17th, 1754. Sir, yours of 7th brings Concern for the death of yV father. The Proprietor, and Province, have lost a real and able friend as beneficial to both, by his Public and Private abilities. There is lasting gain of Reputation to his Pos- terity, his life being always employed in something Im- mortal. Q0irt§pface an^ ilnceetovs, 21 In my letter to yr father, I complied with your request in favor of your brother Mr. Dennis Dulany to the clerkship of Kent, on Vacancy by death of Mr. James Smith. Yrs sincerely Cecils Calvert. His family name was originally Delany, and farther back deLaune. There is in the family a letter from Dean Pat- rick Delany, his cousin, asking why he had altered his name. The response is not known. Perhaps he thought himself ill-treated by his family, and resolved in the new world to make a new name for himself. He left four sons, Daniel, Walter, Dennis, and Lloyd. Walter Dulany succeeded his father as Commissary-Gen- eral. Walter Dulany Addison was named for his grand- father, and being the eldest grandchild, as well as the eldest son and heir of his father, his arrival was quite an important event in the family. Other grandchildren, however, speedily followed, and this one seems to have been taken possession of by his grandmother when little more than a year old, and his earliest years were spent under her care. To her he attributed his first religious impressions. He well remem- bered a switching he once received from her for telling her a lie. This he never forgot, and my uncle says " I believe that was the last departure from the rigid truth that he ever was known to make from lisping childhood to tottering age." As her letters form quite a prominent part of this history, perhaps a little sketch of his grandmother Dulany may not be inappropriate here. She was the center of a happy household, most tenderly loved and reverenced by all, but 22 One ^Mn^vt"^ ^tavQ cEgo. her character will be best shown in her letters, enough of which will appear in another chapter to show how charming she must have been. The first of these which has descended to her posterity was preserved by her father and is written in the most beau- tiful handwriting. It gives some idea of the prim manners of that day. Philadelphia, MarcJi 30th, 1739. Hono2Lrcd Sir : Since my coming up, I have entered with Mr. Hackett to improve my Dancing, and hope to make such Progress therein, as may answer to the Expense, and enable me to appear well in any Polite Company. The great Desire I have of pleasing you, will make me the more Assiduous in my undertaking: and should I arrive at any degree of Perfection it must be attributed to the Liberal Education you bestow on me. I am with the greatest Respect Dear Pappa Yr dutiful Daughter Mary Grafton. To Richard Grafton, Esq., New Castle, Delaware. Among the papers of Richard Grafton, whose daughter married the Hon'ble Walter Dulany, was also found this let- ter, which has carefully been preserved and handed down from mother to son for four generations, and which doubt- less has had a powerful influence in forming the religious character of the descendants of this good man and tender father : To be delivered after my DeatJi. Newcastle, Sept. 3rd, 1737. Dear Polly Grafton : My Dear, dearly and well beloved Daughter, now this has come to your hand, you know I shall never write to you or C0nverse with you again, for now your " dear Father" is no more: no more to delight himself in your dear Company, no more to solace himself in hopes of your Happiness, no more with pleasure to behold, your sweet Disposition and temper of mind, no more to assist and instruct you in im- proving yourself in those Qualifications, which may tend to your advantage both here and Hereafter. And now it has pleased God to take me from you, I re- turn Him my most humble and hearty thanks, for all His manifold Blessings, and Mercies, bestowed upon me, throughout the whole course of my Pilgrimage in this world: trusting that He will always be with you, to guide, govern, protect and prosper you. That He will keep you from all Evils that poor mortals fall into, and from Sin, which is hateful in the sight of the Holy God who is of purer eyes than to behold Iniquity. I do most earnestly recom- mend to you, the strict observance of yr Duty, to God, to Yourself, and your Neighbor: the particulars of which you will find laid down in the "Whole Duty of Man" and the other writings of that pious and learned Author, whose works I have in i volume, and do this day fully and abso- lutely, give to you. Oh, my dear Polly! I do from my own Experience assure you, that no Pleasure in the world, is to be Compared to that of a good Conscience; though a great 24 One 'gun^te^ '^eare ilgo. many have no desire but for the riches, honours, and pleas- ures of this World. These are good things — the true and right Enjoyment of them is a great Blessing — but they are only to be ver>^ Cautiously used. They are Dangerous things; and therefore I advise you strictly to watch over yourself concerning them, and never to be so vain, as to imagine that happiness consists in a full enjoyment of 'them without Restriction. No. No. They, that are wholly given to those Pleasures are Dead while they live. Dead to the life of grace: Dead to the sweets of a beneficent mind and charitable hand: dead to the most ravishing delights resulting from the exercise of the duties of Religion, whose hopes will be too faint and weak, to afford that comfort, and Consolation, which good men feel at the hour of Death. My dear Polly, at my writing, you are with y'r good friends Mr Plumstead in Philadelphia, whom I desire you to look upon as a father and Mrs P as a mother. Such real friends as these 'twas that induced me to spare you, so long from me, 'twas a great Denial to me, but the consideration that it was for y'r Benefit forced me to compliance. My dear Child, you have a Bountiful, good and gracious God on whom you may safely Rely. You will find herewith, a deed of gift of Plate, and other things, which I gave you after y'r recovery from smallpox, and as they are yours, and no part of my Estate, they are not to be mentioned or appraised with it. My dear Polly, I have Experienced y'r mother's tender concern for your Welfare. I hope you will always find her very just and Affectionate to you, and that you will always behave to her, with great Respect and Duiy and I do wish (gtrf^pface an}> cEnce0tor0. 25 that you may always live together until separated by j\Iar- riage or Death, but I will not lay any Injunction on you not foreseeing what may happen. And now I have to Recommend you to be steadfast to the Faith and Worship of the Church of England Jiaving always a Charitable opinion for those of other persuasions. I earnestly desire you to beg of God, to let you know- Experimentally, the Power, as well as to have the Form, of Godliness. My dear Polly, I do from my own experience, and to my great comfort, and consolation, assure you that all the en- joyments of this world, have been to me as Trifles, in com- parison of that sweet and ravishing delight I have felt in the exercise o{ fervent earnest Prayer. My dear child, I desire you to beg. Oh, earnestly to beg of God, to enlighten your Understanding, that you may know his Will, and grant you his Grace, to enable you to perform your Duty; and pray that nothing, no, not the greatest worldly interest, may ever prevail with you to trifle with Religion, or your duty, and that you may practice Re- ligion, without which the Profession of it, will avail you nothing. You have the sum of it in the answer to the two questions in the Church Catechism, viz: *' What is thy duty to God, and to thy Neighbor," which I desire you daily to practice. I earnestly beg God Almighty, to pour down his Bless- ings and Mercies upon you : blessings of the right hand, and the left, and that He will '' keep you Steadfast, and Unmov- able, always Abounding in the work of the Lord," and I am well assured vour labor will not be in vain in the Lord. 26 One j0urx'tvc'i> ^tavs il^o. Farewell, my dear Polly! I now leave you to pursue those paths which lead to Heaven, and Happiness, where I trust to meet you, ravished with those pleasures, and de- lights, which God has prepared for those who love him. Richard Grafton. This last parting exhortation of Richard Grafton was sacredly treasured, as we may readily imagine, by his daugh- ter, as was also the " Whole Duty of Man." This volume is still in possession of the family. The summary of Christian duty to which he refers, as given by our Lord, and repeated in the Catechism, " Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul and all thy mind and with all thy strength, and thy neighbor as thyself," she endeavored to make the rule of her life and of that of her children and grandchildren. In the year 1892 it was my privilege to stand by the bedside of one of these, an aged and dying saint. Her eyes and hands were lifted to Heaven, and in a loud and distinct voice she ex- claimed with her parting breath, " With all my heart, with all my soul and with all my strength I do," and here the trembling lips failed to articulate clearly, but a wonderful radiance lighted the face, and she was gone, with this note of victory upon her lips. So we see the fruit of a good man's precept and example on his descendants more than one hundred and fifty years after he had been laid at rest. CHAPTER III. The State of the Church immediately before the Revolution. 1 766- 1 776. T was well for Mary Grafton that she held en- shrined in her heart this last tender exhortation of her father, and had likewise in her possession that "foHo edition of the Whole Duty of Man" to direct her path in life, for immediately after her marriage with Walter Dulany, which took place soon after, she was thrown into an atmosphere of gaiety and fashion where religion had small place. She was young, accomplished, and in every way fitted to shine in the brilliant little circle into which her husband now introduced her. He seems to have been a man of ability, although his talents were less conspicuous than those of his more distinguished father and brother. He succeeded the former as Commissary-General, and continued the same kind supervision of the interests of the widows and orphans of the province, and was after his death in 1773 much cen- sured by one who desired to succeed him in office, for hav- ing " so often remitted the fees which were due to him from their estates, that the office had become in his hands much less lucrative than it should be." 28 One J^nn'tvt'b "^eare dlgo. Few homes in the land had been happier than theirs. Thomas Addison, aspiring to a place there, truly described it as a " Home where Harmony, Peace and Contentment reigned.'' It was also the seat of a large hospitality, in the exercise of which many friends and relations were made to share in these blessings. The overflow of their good things also helped to make the lives of the poor and needy more toler- able. The Church in Annapolis, and indeed in Maryland gener- ally, was in a deplorable condition. The old edifice in An- napolis was typical of the state of things spiritual, while a fine new theatre had been built under the patronage of the Royal Governor. This theatre was opened June i8th, 1752, and used successfully fifteen or sixteen years. Various clubs, the Tuesday Club, the Jockey Club, etc., found ample support, while the Church was falling to decay; and in a poem published in the ]\Iaryland Gazette, from which these lines are extracted, the old church bemoans its condition: " How changed the times : for all around Unnumbered stately piles are found. All better built and looking down On me, quite antiquated grown, Left unrepaired, to Time and prey I feel my Vitals fast decay. And often have I heard it said That some good people are afraid That I should tumble on their head. Of which indeed this seems a proof, — They seldom come beneath my roof." §>taU of u3e eguvc?. 29 This plea was written by Rev. Mr. Boucher, who for a short time was rector there and who really was a good man, and it had the effect, it is said, of causing a new church to be erected. The unhappy state of the Church was indeed a sore grief to the more thoughtful part of the community. It was in a measure caused by the fact that the sole power to present livings lay in the hands of the Lord Proprietor, a dissolute young man with no religious principle or regard for the interests of the Church. " The clergy of Maryland," writes one of their number, " are better provided than those of any other colony and they are less respectable." The stipend was so large that the parishes became a prey to the needy companions of Frederick, who were quite frequently or- dained with the object of filling vacancies which had been previously promised to them. A letter from Dr. Chandler to the Bishop of London will throw some light on this state of things: OcL 21, 1767. My Lord : In the month of May last I had occasion to go into the State of Maryland and think it my duty to take this oppor- tunity to report to yr Lordship that I found the people on the southern part of the Eastern Shore where I spent a fort- night, to be the most Sober and Orderly, the least Vicious and most Religious, and at the same time t/ie freest from Enthisiasm, of any people I have ever met with. The Parishes, are large. The livings generally worth £300, some £500. (The general character of the clergy I am sorry to say 30 One '^unlvt^ ^tavQ dEl^o. is wretchedly bad. } It is readily confessed there are some whose Behaviour is Unexceptionable, but their number ap- pears to be very small. They appear here, and there, like Lights shining in a Dark Place. It would really my Lord make the ears of a sober Heathen tingle, to hear the stories that are told me by many serious people, r The Inhabitants look upon themselves to be in the cruelest state of Oppression with regard to Ecclesiastical matters. The Churches are built and liberally endowed entirely at their expense. Yet the Proprietor claims the sole right of Patronage and causes Inductions to be made with- out any regard to the opinion of the Parishioners.^ Some of those inducted are known to be bad men, at the very time, and the others show themselves to be so afterwards. There is no Remedy, as they cannot be removed even by the highest exercise of Proprietary power. These are the com- plaints of the people. I was desired to represent them to yr L'dship and employ your Interposition. My Lord yr dutiful servant Thomas B. Chandler. T/ie Rev. Henry Addiso7i to the Lord BisJiop of London: Oct. 29, 1766. My Lord: The writer of this letter living in a remote part of the world, and being an utter stranger to your Lordship hath nevertheless presumed to address you, from a confidence that nothing will be thought by your L'dship beneath your attention in w^hich the interests of the Ch of England are ^tatt of t6e thv4' 31 concerned, A clergyman as I am of that excellent Church, I cannot see anything which reflects disgrace upon her with indifference. This must be my apology for the trouble I must at this present give your L'dship which is particularly occasioned by the infamous conduct of a person who in this part of the world chose to call himself Congreve, but at the beginning of the present year was ordained by your L'dship under the name of Colgrave. It will be necessary to give a few Anec- dotes of the life of this man so far as they have come to my knowledge. He is a native ot Ireland and hath been a good many years in America where by his own acct, he led a vagrant life. He at one time kept a House of Entertainment of no very good repute in Philadelphia; he was likewise at one time in the army here, particularly at the siege of Louisburg. The war being over and strolling about, he came to Mary- land and was appointed Master of a Free school in the Co of Prince George where I live: here he married a wife who left him in a week apprehending her life to be in danger. She had much reason, for he is an abandoned drunkard, and when drunk an outrageous madman. He remained with us five or six months and having got in debt ran away and I was in hopes I shd have heard of him no more forever. Yr Ldship will judge what was my astonishment, and indigna- tion, upon receiving a letter from London informing me that he was in Holy Orders. Such was Kis conduct before his Ordination and yr Ldship shall hear that his change of character wrought no change of manners in him. Upon his arrival from England he ofificiated in the Parish, where he 32 One ^un^ret) "Pears cE^o. had before resided and after service got Drunk and behaved in the most outrageous manner, to the scandal and grief of the friends of the Church and the triumph of her enemies. After a short stay here he went to N. CaroHna where to- gether with a Parish, he enjoyed a small emolument of £20 from the Ven society. How worthily your Idship will judge. Your Ldship will please observe that I write with- out any desire to be concealed, but that you are at full lib- erty to make such use of this letter as you shall judge proper. In conclusion permit me my Lord with humble deference to add a short Reflection. That upon such Occasions the disgrace falls, not always where it ought to fall, upon such as recommend the unw^orthy to yr Lordship. That this and such other instances which I know to be not unfrequent with respect to America, strongly evince among other things the expediency of establishing Episco- pacy here, without which one may venture to prophesy that the church of England must lose ground. With ardent prayer to the speedy Accomplishment of which most desirable End I am with great respect Henry Addison, M. A. Here is another, written October 24th, 1769: Aly Lord,"^ tis with difficulty I can restrain myself from lamenting — (what the present Instance with many others which daily occur too aptly furnish Occasion to do) — the unhappy case of the church of England in this Province. * Dr. Richard Terrick, Ld. Bishop of London. §taU of tU €gurc6. 33 Far removed from her Bishops, deprived of Discipline which every other Denomination can freely exercise, and delivered tip as it were Bound in the hands of her Enemies. . . . But I ask your Lordship's pardon and have done — well knowing that you are ever watchful of any Occasion which Providence shall present for their removal. Humbly craving your Ldship's Blessing I remain with all respect Yr Ldship's obedient humble servt Henry Addison. Among Mr. Dulany's papers are some very curious ones relating to the Rev. Mr. Allen, who had been a college com- panion of the Proprietor, and who seems to have been a congenial friend and favorite of Frederick. His lordship ordered Gov. Sharpe to appoint him a parish. So Mr. Allen was appointed to St. Anne's, Annapolis; but one parish did not satisfy his need, and Lord Baltimore urged that he be appointed to two, or more, but the law of Mary- land was against that, except with the consent of the vestry. Mr. Allen persuaded Mr. Sam Chew (an ancestor of the Chews of Cliveden, Philadelphia), vestryman at St. James, West River, to consent to advocate his interest with the vestry of that parish. He asked Mr. Chew what might be the yearly income. He answered £300. " That," said Mr. Allen, "will hardly supply me with liquors." Mr. Chew, after some further intercourse with Mr. Allen, determined not to give him his support. On informing Mr. Allen of his change of mind, he exclaimed, " Oh, Dulany." " I told him (writes Mr Chew) there was no Foundation for such an Ac- cusation as it was onlv from himself that I knew him to be 34 One ^Mr\Ut'i> "Peatre il^o. his Enemy. To which Mr. Allen answered, ' I should doubt that.' I was much Provoked, but walked to my desk where was a Bible, and laying my hand upon it I declared on the Holy Evangels, that what I had said was True. He then came up to me and said * Sir, notwithstanding that I should doubt your Word.' I replied ' What is that you say, sir? there is the door.' He answered, ' No sir.' I then told him he was a Scoundrel and seizing him by the Collar with one hand I with a Stick in the other dragged him out of my Door. On my attempting to bar the Door he put his whole weight against it, upon which I aimed a Blow^, with a very good will I must confess, at his Bald Pate, but unluckily the Door took it, and thus he escaped a broken Pate — the best part of his Deserts. I then drove him ofiE the steps and ordered him to go about his Business. "The next morning a servant brought a letter to Mr. Edminton (Air, Allen's curate) who was staying with me and had been Present, enclosing one for me. " I asked Mr. E from whom it came? After a pause, he told me from Mr. Allen. I told him I w^ould not receive a letter from such a Scoundrel, and threw it unopened into the fire, not dreaming as it came from a Minister of the Gospel it could be a Challenge. " Notwithstanding Air. Allen knew I had burnt his letter and therefore could know^ nothing of the Appointment, he most Heroically marched on the appointed day to the field of Battle. " After that. Air. Allen went to AI!r. Thomas's and before he came away showed his pistols to Air. J. Thomas and asked him to unscrew one of them. Mr. T. told him he §tt ^cave il^o. turned from Carrs, where we dined with a good round Com- pany. I beseech you my D^ Kitty to send my Gowns by Fleet. I really am in heavy distress for them. Here is Mrs. Custis a sweet lovely woman that I am very anxious to be civil to — has lived 2 months within a few miles of me, and I have not been able to see her for want of Cloaths. I met her & that good Sally Allen the other day at IMr. Lee's. Sally promises to come home with me whenever I would fetch her. Dont you think my case is hard. Betsy Calvert and C Steuart were here about a week. I think if they are not married soon they never will. She does not look long for this world. Nelly intends up with me. I'm in hopes it will be the last of next week. I enclose a Lock of her Hair. She begs you will have a Cushion & every-thing belonging to it, ready for her against she comes up, & likewise as cheap a Hatt as posible to be genteel. Let us know for very good reasons, if Ruffles are wore or not. Love to Mamma & the Chew family & believe me yr very affect R. Hanson. Letter from Mrs. Hanson to her brother Walter at New York. OxoN Hill, Aug. 27th, 1781. Your letter my dearest Brother gave me the greatest pleasure, as it informed me of your health and that you were come once more into the world, for you really seemed quite out of it at Pensacola. I have long wished for an oppor- tunity of writing to you but they are so seldom to be met with, that I almost despair of getting a letter to you. The idea of having what I write pass the inspection of the PubHc was very disagreeable & I assure you it required not a Httle Resolution. However rather than suffer you to think for a moment that I am capable of slighting you, I would freely submitt to have my letters examined by all the World, hoping that when they had satisfied their Curiosity — as they can be of no value to them — they will be kind enough to let you have them. I believe that I can begin with nothing that will give you more pleasure than to tell you that we are all well & as happy as the Times — and being separated from so many of our Dearest Ones — will admit of. Mr. & Mrs. Fitz-hugh have been the greatest part of the summer and still are with us. Their three children (with my youngest little Nan Hanson) have been Inoculated for the Small Pox, which they all got over very happily. I know that you will be happy to hear that my D'r Boys have an exceeding good Tutor at home and are very good and anxious to be clever fellows. They are constantly talking of you. Harry always joins them: he says he re- members you very well. He w^as a year old when you left him. I'll leave it to you to believe him or not. In case you do not don't be uneasy. I think he is not much given to lying — it seems hard he should be the only ignorant one on a subject of such importance, as what " Uncle Watty " would say or do. Polly has grown a great girl. Some are of opinion she will be tolerably Handsome. Of this I am no judge. I know she is a very good girl which satisfies me. I have said enough about the Brats, I think, and will proceed to 5 8 One ^urx'^vc'^ 'X)ear0 dtlgo. give you some account of your acquaintances in this neigh- borhood. Your old friend Carr & his Lady are well and have three very fine children. Col. Addison is well and Mrs Addison recovering from a very bad state of health. They have had two children since you left us. Indeed, my dear Walter, the Neighborhood is entirely ruined by the vast number of chil- dren that have sprung up among us. There are no less than twenty-two Children just in the families of y'r acquaintances here : and my Watty the eldest. I tell you this that if at any time you should feel a more than common Inclination to be amongst us, only fancy you have ten or a dozen Children hanging about you and thank your stars you are a hundred miles ofif. . . . I think it is now time to enquire after my friends in England. I suppose you often have the happiness of hear- ing from them. Pray write to me by the first Opportunity. I desire that you will be very Particular in your account of my dearest Peggy and her family: and do remember me in the most tender manner to them & my brother when you write: also to Uncle Lloyd and his Lady & Mr. & Mrs. Boucher I beg to be remembered. I sincerely hope they are all well and happy. Please give my love to Uncle Addi- son and my very respectful compliments to your Good Friend Mr. Garnett,* tho' I have not the pleasure of a Per- sonal Acquaintance with him: he has endeared himself to me forever, & shall ever have my warmest wishes for his happiness. *Mr. Gainett at the risk of his own life had nursed Grafton Dulany in yellow fever. dEl ^orj ^amx^^. 59 Mr. Hanson desires his love and all the Children beg to be remembered to their " dear Uncle Watty." I conclude, wishing you every happiness this world can afford, assuring you that I am and ever shall be My dearest W., your truly affect. Sister R. Hanson. To Capt. Walter Dulany. Examined & allowed Jas. Carleton, Sec. The following letter from the Rev. Mr. Montgomery gives a little picture of the life of the exiles in London : London, Oct. 4, 1781. Mj' dear Madam : I have written to you and the family repeatedly but have never received a line from any of you save a short letter from Mr. Fitzhugh. Thank God we often hear of your welfare. We are particularly happy in being assured that you bear the troubles that have fallen you in these inauspicious times, with that patience and resigna- tion of spirit which ought ever to characterize those who believe in a Providence and the realities of the world to come. Daniel has not been in town for a considerable time. All friends here without exception, are well. There is scarcely one of them with whom this Country does not agree most wondrously: Mr. Lloyd Dulany in particular looks ten years younger than he did eight years ago & as to Airs. Dulany, she really does honor to Md. She is quite beautiful & en- 6o One '^vin^vt'ii 'X)eav0 cEgo. gaging. We have found an acquaintance here both male & female emminently respectable & our situation on the whole is far from uncomfortable. ... God bless you all John Montgomery. To James Brooke ^ Esq. Annapolis, 29th May, 1781. Dear Sir : Believe me I was truly Rejoiced to hear from you. In- deed it is so long since I had that Satisfaction that I began to fear our good friend was lost to us. The good news you give me of my Folks adds not a little to my happiness as I have been under great anxiety on that account. The *' lie " of last night was truly dreadful nothing less than an Express said to have been given the Marquis informing that Cornwallis had joined Philips at Fredericksburg. You know I am a piece of a Philosopher, and above being Frightened by such improbable lies. It is said too that he entreats that more men be sent him, as he is in a distressful condition: but its all of a piece: I am determined not to mind it. I met with a terrible Rebuff on my coming home, and with all my Philosophy have not been able -to quiet my mind or keep a steady hand since. I use every Effort to this End, and in time I make no doubt I shall attain all that I have hopes of in this life: a tolerable Tranquillity of mind. This is all that I expect and this I trust the remainder of my life may at least be checquered with. Remember me to the Dr. & Mrs. Scott. God bless you. I am dear Sir very since'ly & afifect'ly, M. DULANY. P. S. Kitt has gone to visit y'r flame. "Kitt" was the only one of her large family remaining with her. Peggy having married the Rev. John Montgom- ery, had accompanied him to England, where they were now living. Mollie, married to Mr. Fitzhugh, was living at Ep- ping, an estate allowed her by Congress in Dulany Valley. Frojn Mr. Fitzhugh. Epping, Feb. 22, 1781. Dear Wat: How heartily do I join in most earnest wishes for the arrival of that era in which Peace shall restore you to the embraces of your Mother. Mrs. D. being now at Oxon Hill is prevented from writing by this opp't'y. Mrs. D's Headquarters are at Annapolis, but Becky & Molly have required her presence to direct in making caudle so fre- quently that Epping «Sz; Oxon Hill have enjoyed the greatest part of her Company, which her very excellent health & cheerful disposition have combined to render very desireable. Molly still attends to the Harpsichord though she has been married upwards of six years. She will not acknow- ledge my right to the merit of it — which is really the case — 62 One T^unlxc'^ '^eate ilgo. & I intend to make her play when she is grayheaded if we continue together so long. Kitty is well & sings. To Capt. Dulany of the Maryland Loyalists, Pensacola. Airs. Dulany to her son Walter. Annapolis, 23 April, 1781. My dear Watty: I am exceedingly obliged by your kind attention to me, and I take the EarHest opportunity to assure you that I am and have always been clearly of opinion that going to Eng- land as soon may be, is far more Eligible for you than returning to us at present. Many of my friends have (with design no doubt to make me happy) told me that I might expect to see you very shortly, but it had a very different effect. Last week a man came from Bait, and told some of my friends he had seen you there the day before. This story was too absurd to be believed for a moment or I should have been Excessively Shocked. You know I am sure that nothing can possibly give me greater joy than to see you at the proper time which I think is very far from being the case at present — to say the truth if you could come with perfect safety a short visit would by no means satisfy me or any of y'r friends — and as I do sup- pose it would be infinitely more for your pecuniary ad- vantage to make your appearance with the troops than to go some time hence, my advice is to go by all means tmless you have good reason and other advice from other friends who know more of these things than I can do. Pray let me know y'r determination as soon as possible. I pray God to bless & prosper you in all y'r undertakings and this I can say Amen to very fervently knowing my own dear Walter will never embark in any but what are laudable. If I am so happy as to hear of y'r safe arrival in England I shall scon begin to please myself with the hopes of seeing you happily before long, when I hope & have reason to believe that all animosities & distinctions of Whig & Tory will be over- thrown. I assure you we are very good-humoured here, & seem well disposed for this desirable event. For my own part I have been treated in the most friendly manner — by many from whom I had no right to expect any favors — since my return to this place, and were it not for the absence of many dear folks whose society I had long been accustomed to consider essential to me I should be happy as most. That is to say, I enjoy a kind of tranquillity which in my estimation is preferable to high spirits. You have been informed that I am gay. No, that can never happen till my dear long-lost sheep are restored to me. I am mv dear Y'r niost affect Mother M. DULANY. P. S. Your kitchen & wash house acquaintances beg to be remembered to you. Sue is very happy in having Tom with you: but my dear I must caution you to beware of Tom: he certainly has been a sly artful rogue & I believe these propensities seldom abate with years without a better basis than I am afraid poor Tom has for his amendment: in short I have no doubt that he possesses those qualities to this day to an eminent degree. Therefore put not much confidence in him — indeed if his only employment be to 64 One ^un^re^ 'I)ear0 Jl^o. wait on you in such a place as New York I expect very shortly to hear of his Exaltation. So in charity to him I advise you to hire him out and endeavor to procure a faith- ful attendant for y'rself. The address on the back of this letter is Capt. Dulany. The seal appears to have been broken before it reached him, for it is indorsed: ''War Office Sep loth 1781. Examined & allowed. Jos. Carlton Sec." Mrs. Dulany to her so7i Capt. Dulany at New York. My Dear Watty : About two months ago I wrote you & enclosed letters for y'r brother & Peggy Montgomery, but as I am very apprehensive from the uncertainty of their conveyance that they may not have reached y'r hands, I must again tell you that y'r friends here are all well, and happy in having all our dear little ones just recovered from the small pox. Fitzhugh's family are all at Oxon Hill, but I hope soon to have them in town, for really Kitty and I are quite over- powered with empty rooms. Need I tell you dear Watt how happy it would make us all if you would be one among us and enliven your own room again — but this will not bear to talk or even think of. God's will be done. Continue to be as worthy as you always were when I had the happiness of your acquaintance & I have not a doubt but we shall meet & be forever happy in a better world from whence we may look down with composure on the idle bustles & contentions of this world. Kitty will give you an account of Betsy Key's wedding from which we ai'e just returned. It was celebrated at Bel- voir where was a large company of us for several days to- gether. You may be sure we all exerted ourselves to be as clever & agreeable as possible and I think we succeeded amazingly well considering the heat of the weather, there was not a frown or a twisted face the whole time. All in- deed were truly happy in her fine prospects of happiness with the Gentleman of her choice. I hope you have gotten our dear Phil* with you before this: if so, give my love to him and congratulate him for me on this occasion. Mj^s. Dulany to he7' son Walter. 7.^ , Txr Epping, Auo;. 7th, 1783. My dear Watty : > / I have received two of y'r dear letters since my arrival here. And as Molly was not prepared for employing me so soon as I expected in the business for which I came — not to be idle — we made use of the interim in marrying up Kitty. This affair has been long in agitation & I thought it en- tirely at an end: however as he was the man of her choice (for indeed she has had many offers) & as his prospects must have much mended I consented to it freely & earnestly recommend him to y'r regard as a Brother. From a pretty long acquaintance I have reason to believe he is possessed of an excellent heart which with me is the Summum Bo- num. He has been settled in Chestertown but Kitty to whom the Assemblyf granted 400 acres of the land at Ep- * Philip Barton Key. t The lands belonging to the Dulanys were confiscated except 400 acres granted to each of the daughters in Baltimore County. 66 ^ne ]E}\in'i>vt^ 'X)ear0 ilgo. ping chooses to fix here which is a most convincing proof of her love to me as she ahvays had a fixed aversion to the place. Mr. Hanson & Becky & Polly Addison, the Miss Murdocks & Nancy Dulany were our wedding guests: they have all left us. I am happy to tell you Becky's three boys are put to a worthy clergyman very capable of improving them. I had the most pleasing account from her of his management of them. I hope in a short time matters may be so adjusted as to make it practicable to send them where you wish. Your anxiety about them discovers you to be my own dear Wat still; notwithstanding the dissipated life you necessarily must have led, it has not had any of the ill eiTects which might have been feared. " De chile " just comes in to desire her love & compliments to her uncle & desires me to tell you she can read a little & spell very well and that her aunt Kitty began yesterday to teach her her notes on the Spinnet & she hopes to be able to play y'r favorite March by the time you come home. Will is a fine rustical boy, & y'r namesake every one says as like you as he can stare & the sweetest prattler I ever knew. Oh, how I long to have you partake of our Domestic felicity. With the most fervent prayers for y'r felicity here & here- after & a happy meeting somewhere dear Watt Y'r affect Mother Dulany Manor contained 20,000 acres. That part of the estate inherited by Walter Dulany lay in Baltimore county, and is still known as Dulany Valley. It included 5000 acres. His sons being loyalists and in arms against the colonial government, their property was confiscated; but his brother Dennis, who died unmarried at the opening of the war, left his entire estate to his sister-in-law, Mary Grafton Dulany, and Congress allowed 400 acres to each of her three daughters 'who remained in this country. Annapolis, 23 April, 1783. My dear Wat : . . .Thursday our races begin and Kitty has just gone off in a superb Phaeton & four with a very flaming beau to the ground. I don't know his name. Yesterday was his first appearance with our infinity of French Beaux all of whom are very gallant. Anthony did not reach here till last night and he & Carr breakfasted with us to-day. They too are gone to see the race & I stayed at home to give you my advice. We have a dismal set of players too who will act every night of this joyous week. To-morrow we celebrate Peace. I hear there is to be a grand dinner on Squire Carroll's Point, a whole ox to be roasted & I can't tell how many sheep & calves besides a world of other things. Liquor in proportion. The whole to conclude with illuminations & squibs &c. I had liked to have forgot to mention the Ball which I think had better be postponed. I am horribly afraid our gentlemen will have lighter heads than heels. I think to keep myself snug at home & pray no mischief may happen & for Kitt's safe re- turn from the Ball. By Toney I heard that all were well at Epping, and by Carr the same agreeable intelligence from Potomack. I have more reason than Swift had to wish 68 ^ne l^unbre^ '^eare cEgo. that I could '' split my worship's self in twain." I have often been fantastical enough to wish for Wings & now I have more occasion for them than ever. If I could have attained this Perfection I should have had frequent tete-a-tetes with you I assure you: but "I can't get out" says the starling. One thing I am perfectly clear in: If I should escape out of this cage of flesh before my children return to me, I shall see them & hover round them wherever they are & sure I am that eye hath not seen more joy than I should feel on beholding them steadily adhering to those virtuous prin- ciples which were instilled into them in their infancy & so strongly enforced by the precept & example of their most excellent father — allways bearing in mind that the least devi- ation from virtue is a step in vice. I have been so delighted with this thought that I have sometimes wished, earnestly wished for its accomplishment. Now don't be alarmed & conclude I am tired of life or impatient at the rubs of the world: these are merely flights of Fancy which I would not be debarred from for any earthly felicity: there cannot be any harm in them. The shoes &c came ytry opportunely for Kitty, just t\vo days before our gaiety commences. They are very pretty. You must accept her thanks thro' me, as she is entirely taken up at present & will be for several days. Be pleased to accept my thanks for the very pretty handkerchief. I'll wear it & think of you. I am my dear Wat Y'r afifect. Mother M. DULANY. /^r^;;^ Major Walter Dulany to his sister Mrs. Fitzhugh. London, Atig. 8th, 1784. My dear Sister : To you I must confess myself indebted a letter. The one I sent being of a nature that made it truly distressing to receive — I mean the account of Mrs. Bouchers death. I think I promised a description of this place, but my inability to perform this task is one reason for my silence. I believe there are few men in London who have lived so long in it as I have that know so little of the place. I have been to no public ammusements but the Plays & to very few of them. I must confess I was disappointed at the first I went to for though there were some of the performers who answered the highest expectations, there were others below mediocrity, and I must agree with those who assert that some of Douglass's Company might be introduced to ad- vantage. There is a Mrs. Siddons, whose fame I dont doubt has reached Maryland, who does every part she undertakes with wonderful exactness. She so well assumes the character that one might easily mistake it for reality, did not the awk- ward figures around her put us in mind that they are only acting. Though I have seen little of this place I venture to pass one opinion upon it, that it must be of all others the most delightful for an unconnected man in easy circum- stances. There is nothing one can wish or want that is not to be had for money, nor as far as I can see, any-thing with- out it. Could I have spent one year or two here in a suit- able way I should have been pleased with it, but for perma- 70 ^ne l^un^teb '^eate cEgo. nently settling, no country can ever be so agreeable to me, as that where the chief of my connexions lay. When a man is gay — general acquaintances are pleasant to him, but it is in the conversation of his intimate friends that are dear to him alone, that any solid satisfaction is to be found. When a man has been buffeting about in the world and had an op- portunity of observing the characters of mankind, he does not so easily give up his heart to every agreeable person he meets with, without which there is little pleasure in society. I spend the greatest part of my time at Mr. Montgomerys, with my brother and such of my American acquaintances as are here. Unfortunately for me Mr. & Mrs. M. & Mrs. Dulany are all out of town just now. The two former are gone to bathe their little girl — & Mrs. Lloyd Dulany with some ladies to Brighthelmstone, a very fashionable watering place. She is a most charming woman & her company is peculiarly delightful to me. This letter is favored by Mr. Chase, whom I waited on to consult him on the propriety of my return. He advises it by all means but of this more in my letter to my mother. My best love to Mr. Fitzhugh and my dear little nephews & nieces & compliments to all friends and acquaintances. My dear sister y'r most truly affect Walt. Dulany. PART OF A PRAYER Found among the papers of Maj. Walter Dulany and written after his return to America at the close of the war. " I return Thee O Most Merciful &l Gracious Father, my dEl ^otrp ^^^mtfj. 7 most humble and hearty thanks for ah Thy Goodness and Loving Kindness to us and to our famihes — both in the evils we have escaped through Thy Kind and Providential care — and in the blessings which Thou hast hitherto been pleased to vouchsafe to our ever dear Mother. I pray Thee to grant her, an increase and long continuance of them both Keep her from the infirmities of old age and grant that she may pass through this world Thy faithful servant, in health and contentment and in the enjoyment of all the felicity it is capable of affording and go into Everlasting Bliss in the world to come. I return Thee thanks for the support Thou was pleased to af¥ord iis whilst thrown upon the bounty of strangers and the mercy of enemies; for the signal aid Thou didst vouch- safe us whilst struggling with innumerable difficulties and embarrassments, and for the ample provisions of the gifts of this world, and I pray Thee so to guide us that the whole of our conduct both in the manner of obtaining, and the man- ner of using, the gifts of fortune, may be truly exemplary and unexceptionable." CHAPTER VI. School Life in England. 1 784- 1 789. N August, 1784, Walter D. Addison and his two brothers, with their cousin, John Carr, set sail for 1 1 London; but before leaving America they went to ^ Annapolis to bid adieu to their grandmother, who entrusted to them the following letter to their uncle. Major Dulany: Aug-. St/i, 1784. jWj/ dear Watt I earnestly pray that you may receive this safe at the hands of your Nephews, whom I am sure you will be rejoiced to see. I know you have long wished to have them in Eng- land, & this is as soon as it could possibly be accomplished. You will hear from the " Potomackers " by the boys. They are now on a Visit to me, to take leave, which goes a little hard with me. As I am to lose them in a day or two, I am fond of having as much of their Company as I can. You must therefore excuse a short letter. Kitty left me three days ago with her Husband & a smart little boy Til assure you. They are gone to settle at Epping. I hope this same Husband & child will furnish her with sufficient employment to reconcile ^cgoof Bife in Sn^fan^. 73 her to her Exilement, for such she will consider it at Present. I shall be at a great loss for her. God bless you dear Watt. M. DULANY. " In August, 1784, they embarked (writes my uncle) at \ Alexandria, in a ship bound for London, where they arrived ' after a passage of ninety days. The Rev. Jonathan Boucher received them under his care, and exercised the most parental supervision over them while they remained in England. He had been married to their aunt, Eleanor Addison, but was at this time a widower. The boys looked rather outre in their American-made garments,"^' and to spare them the ridicule of the London boys, they were taken to a tailor's establish- ment and rigged out in suitable apparel. They were placed at a classical school at Greenwich, where they continued till 1787. At this school an East Indian, a violent young man, / much his senior in years and superior in strength, alluded to / * At the close of the war there was a great effort made to encourage home manufactures and to check the importation of cloth. Mr. Fitzhugh, writing in 1779 to a friend on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, in favor of home-made cloth, says : " Our all now depends on our industry and frugality. Till the Stamp Act made its appearance there was scarcely anything from England which was not admired and imitated, even the most absurd fashions, but now the case has been altered and reversed." English cloth was therefore hard to get, and English fashions were no longer the rule : so that the little country boys were left to get their outfit in London, and no doubt looked very quaint in their home- spun garments. Everything which marked them as Americans was calculated at that time to make them unpopular with English boys, and it was therefore quite important that their dress should not be remarkable. 74 One l^un^re^ "^eate il^o. the "wilderness" from which the young Addisons came, and the uncouth character of its citizens. Being of a hot and impetuous disposition, Walter turned on him and told him that such a sarcasm ill became one whose complexion and hair proclaimed him a savage. The Hindostanee, in a rage, made an assault upon him, and a fierce and most un- equal battle would have ensued but for the interposition of a youth his superior in strength and courage." The following account of this period of his life is given in Mr. Addison's own words: "We were removed to Epsom, a village about fifteen miles from London, that we might be under the more im- mediate charge of our uncle (who was Rector of this Parish), and placed under the tuition of the Rev. Joseph Golding, his Curate. Here a new scene presented itself. The school consisted only of four boys : John Carr, the son of my guar- dian, my two brothers, and myself. Here we were beyond the contagion of evil company. Mr. Golding was a man of high literary attainments and most exalted piety. " With all these advantages, I am sorry to add, more than a year elapsed before any serious or lasting impressions were made upon my mind in relation to Eternal things. "In 1788 my uncle requested us to make a Catalogue of his Library. In preparing it we were obliged to use a ladder to reach the upper shelves. From it I had a fall, which occasioned me severe injuries which confined me to my couch for a considerable time." ("While suffering from this accident," says his son, Dr. E. B. A., " a letter came from Oxon Hill telling of the death of Mr. Olney, the old gardener. This intelligence made a ^cgoof Bift in 6ngfan^. 75 strong impression on his mind, and the image of the man' in the habihments of the grave was often before him.") " In my soHtary moments most serious thoughts were awakened in my mind: deep remorse and strong conviction of my former sins seized upon me. Death, the King of Terrors, appeared to me and tormented me with the most excruciating fears. While in the midst of this distress I was awakened to a sense of Divine things by a remarkable dream. " I dreamt that I was on my way to the Doctor's to con- sult him about my foot, and as I went I found the road rough & miry. " Two females vested in white appeared on the roadside, who addressed themselves the one to the other in these words : ' Poor fellow, he is going to a sorry Physician : he must look to Jesus and the word of God — there he will find relief.' " Immediately on waking he aroused young Carr, who was sleeping with him, and requested him to procure him a Tes- tament from the adjoining room. " I opened it (he says) and found therein light & comfort. From this time I be- took myself to prayer & sacred reading. These brought Peace & joy, where before all was darkness & wretchedness. " My friend & tutor, A^fr. Golding, lost no time in advising me as to the course I ought to pursue, and most thankful am I to Almighty God that in his mercy he bestowed upon me so warm, steadfast & excellent a friend. " After the lapse of about two years we removed to Lon- don to complete our education under Dr. Barrow. " Previous to my departure Mr. Golding warned me of 7^ <0m ^^unlvz"^ T)cav6 dtl^o. the many trials & temptations to which I should be sub- jected, and that persecutions also must await me. The truth of all this I experienced on reaching Soho Square, where a few days after my arrival in London I was regularly entered as a pupil. This school was a large one, there be- ing from fifty to seventy scholars, many of them young men. Dr. Barrow was kind enough to furnish me with a room which was quite retired. Before the lapse of many days, three young gentlemen called on me, and very politely in- vited me to join them in their evening amusements of eat- ing, drinking «Sc card playing. They pressed me to unite with them, & upon my declining they insisted. I continued to refuse most positively. They urged the matter more & more, but I remained decided & firm in my purpose. Find- ing invitations & persuasion ineffectual, they sought to ac- complish their purpose by threats & violence and assured me that they would force me into participation in their en- tertainments. I told them that I despised the character of a tale-bearer, and I would not report their habits to the master unless driven to do so by them; but that if they dared attempt violence to my person I would be coerced to do so. I told them moreover that I believed the Bible to be the word of God, and that by his Grace I would make it the rule of my life. The threatened exposure produced the effect I designed it to have, and they left me to my retirement with these words : * After all this Cant & your Puritanical notions we must bid you Adieu.' " It was a custom in England to distribute Religious tracts at the doors of the Theaters, and one or more of these young gentlemen had been furnished with one on the occa- gcgoof Bxft m 6n5fan^. 77 sion of their visits there. Upon one of these they wrote: ' Preached by the Rev'd W. D. Addison.' This they pre- sented to me in the face of the whole school just as I was preparing to go through a recitation. Upon casting my eye over the first page of it I turned to the donor & thanked him for his present. Upon which he retired. The subject of the tract was Death: and in it was contrasted the death-bed of the saint and the sinner. It was well calculated to strengthen me against future persecutions. Amidst the trials & temp- tations of that large city, daily prayer & sacred reading pre- served me." In London they had found many friends and relations: among them their uncle, ?^Iajor Walter Dulany, whom the war had brought to England. Indeed, there was at the time in London quite a little society of Tory refugees whom the war had driven from their country. The boys were most kindly received by all, and especially by their aunt, ^Irs. Montgomery, and their great-uncle. Rev. Henry Addison. At the house of ^^Irs. }\Iontgomery they frequently met their uncle, ^lajor Dulany, and the beautiful Mrs. Lloyd Dulany, whose beauty and sorrows made a deep impression upon Walter's heart. Her wedding to her second husband. Major Dulany, took place in St. George's Chapel, where they were married by the Bishop of London. ]\Iy grandfather's narrative continues: " My brother John & myself, after remaining about six months with Dr. Barrow, embarked at Gravesend for Am- erica. It was late in the summer of 1789 that we bade fare- well to the shores of Gt Britain, leaving Thomas to pursue his studies — especially of Hebrew. 78 One 35^^^^^^*^^ ^cavQ dtl^o. " The ship had not proceeded many leagues on its voyage before my attention was attracted to the mate, who seemed in a profound melancholy. His apparent distress inspired me with great compassion for him & I attempted to comfort him by passages from the Holy Scriptures — by which I my- self had been comforted. I persisted in this course for some time & at length began to believe that his mind was receiv- ing religious impressions. On my going on Deck one day, I was astonished by his presenting me a book, and accosting me in this wise: ' Young man, you have been very attentive to me and in return I have something to offer you.' After a short examination of it I discovered that it was a foul com- position of vulgar, dirty songs. I immediately threw it into the sea, upbraiding him with words to this effect: 'I, sir, have endeavored to render you the greatest possible service, and you in return have sought to poison my mind; and I have treated your book as it deserves.' A most violent rage took possession of him. His furious noise brought the Cap- tain to the deck. The mate cried out to him: ' Do you think this stripling has not thrown the Ship's Book overboard.' At this the Captain became equally enraged, although I in- formed him of the circumstances under which it was done, and said he would throw my books into the sea. I replied that if he did I would certainly throw his after them. To which he rejoined: 'And if you do, you shall certainly fol- low them.' By this time the passengers made their appear- ance on the deck. ^ly brother John, who possessed a lion- heart, was with much difHculty prevented from making a personal attack on the Captain. Having taken boxing les- sons in London, he thought he could manage both Captain ^cgoof Bift in 6n5fan^. 79 and mate. Mr. Nichols inquired of me the cause, and being informed, he said to the Captain : ' Sir, I consider this young gentleman as under my care: you have acted extremely amiss, and immediately on reaching the American shores I will prosecute you for it in a Court of Justice.' This sub- dued the Captain : all things were restored to peace and good order, and on leaving the Ship we all separated good friends. " To Almighty God I owe everything. By his preventing and assisting grace I have been protected thus far in my life, and by the same Divine assistance through Christ my Mediator and Redeemer, I trust I shall be sustained through my remaining days. " Although the ship was bound to Baltimore, the Captain was kind enough to land us at Annapolis." CHAPTER VII. Return to Annapolis. 1789. HE travelers probably landed at the foot of their grandmother's own garden, for it extended to the water's edge. Here a warm welcome awaited them. To their great delight they found the old lady in excellent health and spirits, and that her son, their uncle ^^'alter, and his lovely wife were living w^th her. Their mother, no doubt, with Col. Hanson, soon completed the party, and one can readily imagine with what joyful greetings she received her '' boys," now returned to her, fine, manly fellows, accomplished, and handsome as well, for her son John was considered one of the handsomest men of his day, and my grandfather must have been fine-looking, for even in his old age and after he was blind there was some- thing in his appearance which greatly impressed my childish fancy. " In Annapolis," he says, " I found an enlightened and polished society, and I made up my mind to remain there, and shortly after took lodgings in that city. Here a new scene awaited me. ]My many friends gave me a cordial reception, which was partially testified by numerous invita- tions to entertainments which were tendered me." (Return to cEnnapofie. 8i " My father," writes Dr. Addison, " gave me an amusing account of his first entry into this brilHant circle very soon after their arrival. My uncle John and himself were invited to an evening party. After dinner, as was his wont, he took an airing in the riding costume of an English gentleman which he had brought with him from England. It con- sisted of small clothes of yellow buckskin, blue coat, red cassimere vest, and fine top-boots. Of this swell costume he appears to have been vain, and on his return he did not disrobe, but presented himself in this trim to an astonished assembly of elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen. He had not anticipated such a scene (which equalled anything he had seen in London), and thought he could dress as he pleased. Great was his dismav and confusion. He was met at the door by his Grandmamma Dulany in highly oflfended dig- nity. 'What do you mean, Walter, by such an exhibition? Go immediately home to your room and return in a befitting dress.' And he was very glad to go, and soon returned in silk stockings, embroidered vest, «Scc. He told me of his great astonishment at the splendor of the ladies' dresses, and the adornments of the apartments." At first he entered without misgiving, and with all the abandon of a youth just emancipated from study, into the hospitalities and gaieties of this brilliant little society. For dancing, he tells us, he had a passion, and he now found abundant opportunity of indulging it. He soon, however, discovered that he was becoming too much absorbed by the social attractions which surrounded him, and he began to feel that this life of pleasure was out of harmony with the higher life which he had deliberately chosen for himself, and S2 One J^unUt^ ^t(XV6 dl^o. that a poison lay beneath these attractive shows. Although these enjoyments were not condemned by any of the friends whose opinion he valued, not even by the grandmother he venerated, he soon began to regard them with suspicion and to question their true character. This smiling World which held out its hands to him in such friendly greeting, and whose approval his grandmother evidently desired for him, could it be a subtle enemy in fair disguise? Was this the " World " which at confirmation he had promised to re- nounce, and which the sign of the cross, with which he had been sealed at baptism, had pledged him " to fight manfully against"? He says : " I little knew how dangerous were these pleas- ures, but they soon exposed to me their true character, for they proved more subtle temptations than the ridicule of my schoolmates in England: even more formidable than the threats of Dr. Barrow's scholars. I must have fallen a vic- tim to these enticing pleasures had it not been for daily prayer and sacred reading. The society of young men I found it necessary to quit, and in that of the virtuous fair I took refuge. Next to religion, I consider the company of estimable ladies the best safeguard that the youth of our sex can have." His views of society as he saw it, and of the Church as he found it, during his sojourn in Annapolis, undoubtedly gave a strong bent to his future career. Earnest and true, with a natural propensity to think for himself, he saw clearly and at once the discrepancy between the Christian life around him and the professed Christian standards of the Bible and Prayer Book. MRS. HESSELIUS. Painted by her husband, John Hesselius. From a picture in the possession of Mrs. Commodore Ridgely. (Retutn to dElnnapofte. 83 Though his friends thought differently, he could see his duty in no other light, and what he clearly saw to be right, that through life he persistently followed. However others might regard worldly amusements, he felt that they were low- ering the tone of his spiritual life, and he at once turned his back upon them, resolved nevermore to " follow or be led by them." This sacrifice, however, cost him a severe struggle. It was not merely the giving up of the enjoyments of society, but his refusal to join in the youthful gaieties around him was disapproved by his friends and resented by his young companions. To a young man of great modesty the position was a very trying one. Still he remained inflexible in his determination. The more he thought of these things the more full of wonder he became that other Christians saw them so differently, and more especially did it seem strange that the clergy whom he met should often be fore- most in scenes which seemed to him so unworthy of their sacred calling. The card-table, the ball-room and the theater were all sanctioned by their presence. He betook himself to the Bible and Prayer Book, and became more and more established in his decision, although his views were opposed to the opinions and practice of many whom he respected. " While I remained in Annapolis," he continues, " I spent my mornings in study, and my evenings in the society of ladies. While there I became acquainted with an elderly lady (a Mrs. Hesselius) who lived near the city. She was a woman of exalted piety, and vigorous and accomplished mind, and I found great pleasure and advantage in her society and visited her often." Such a friend at this crisis of his life was indeed an ines- 84 One ^un^re^ 'I)ear0 JElgo. timable blessing to him, and I doubt not it was in a measure through her influence that he determ.ined to study for the ministry and to devote his Hfe to the sendee of the Episcopal Church of America, at that time in sore need of earnest and faithful ministers. Primrose, or Primrose Hill, the residence of Mrs. Hesse- lius, was a retired spot about t\vo miles from the city : a little apart, therefore, from its fashions and gaieties. This estate was purchased by her father, Richard Young, and dying soon after, in 1748, he left it to her, his only child. Bishop Henshaw, in a sketch which he wrote for the " Religious Magazine," says : " At this time her mind became deeply im- pressed with religious truth; though not having the clear views of salvation by grace which she afterwards attained, yet there is good cause for believing that even at this early age (thirteen) she was made a new creature in the Lord Jesus Christ." At fifteen she married Mr. Henry Woodward, a most amiable gentleman and the object of her choice. Possessed of fortune, a high position, and of every personal charm, she yet counted all these gifts but dross for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our Lord. When only twenty-tv\^o, her husband died, leaving her with a large though somewhat embarrassed estate, besides the care of four daughters. This heartrending blow filled her with the deepest melancholy. While in this state of mind she had an opportunity of hearing the great Whitfield. His trumpet-tones aroused her from the state of depression into which she had fallen. It was the first truly Gospel ser- mon to which she had ever listened. A new light broke on (Return to dElnnapofte. 8 5 her mind, she received the glad tidings which he brought with joy and thankfuhiess, and until death cherished a grate- ful remembrance of him. Nevertheless she remained per- fectly loyal to her own church, looking with confidence for its regeneration. " At this time the name of ' Methodist ' was a reproac'i among the thoughtless and irreligious of the community, and the Methodists were also generally stigmatized by the Clergy, to whom their zeal and earnestness were a reproach. They were excluded from the pulpits of even the better class, and were without a place to meet together in His Name whom they professed to serve." " Mrs. Woodward made them welcome to Primrose, and their services were often held there. Deeply attached to her own church, she beheld with grief its low estate, and while she welcomed these servants of God, w^ho came preaching the pure Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ in its simplicity and fulness, she believed that they were sent as messengers of God to the Episcopal Church to arouse His people from their slumber and awaken them to a higher life." But as the Methodists met with ridicule and opposition from a class of people " always ready to resent any signs of an aspiration higher than their own, or any example of a bet- ter life, which they rightly regard as a rebuke," so she, by her course in the matter, shared in the condemnation meted out to her friends. She was called a *' Methodist." Several of her most intimate friends, particularly her son-in-law, Philip Rogers, Esq.-, and Mrs. Prudence Gough, of Perry Hall, connected themselves with that society; but when the Methodists finally separated themselves from the Church she remained true to the Church of her fathers. S6 vt'b 't)ear0 il^o. was at that time for true and faithful men to fill her pulpits and to assist in organizing (out of the confusion and decay into which the Church of England had fallen), a new and living Episcopal Church of America, must have appealed loudly to this youthful soldier of Christ. There were at that time no theological seminaries, where students might have the advantage of pursuing their sacred studies under the direction of wise and learned men. There were, however, in the Church, libraries which had been sent out by Dr. Bray, and afterwards increased by Mr. Boucher, and the largest of these was in Annapolis. These books Mr. Addi- son, of course, had access to. He was a good classical scholar, and from the fact that his youngest brother Thomas remained in England to " continue his Hebrew," I suppose he also had some knowledge of that language. The Rev. Mr. Higginbotham no doubt directed his studies, but his theological advantages, compared with those enjoyed by the divinity students of the present day, must have been small, and Bishop Johns' stricture, that he was in after years more distinguished for his piety than for his theological learning, was undoubtedly true. Under the most favorable circum- stances, practical Christianity would have more appealed to the character of his mind than the subtle questions of the- ology, and at this time the pressing need of the Church was not for theologians, but for living and earnest men to preach and to exemplify the vivifying truths of the Gospel, and thus to counteract the work of the licentious and venal men who, in the time of the last Proprietor, had been appointed to feed this little flock in the wilderness; men of courage and force, not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, and who were prepared (Ketutrn to dElnnapofte, ^9 to fight manfully under His banner against the world, the flesh and the devil. His reputation as a theologian would have been indeed high if it had exceeded his character as a Christian! We liave, however, the testimony of his children to the fact that he was always a hard student. Like Bishop Wilberforce, he might be said to have had the '' courage of his convictions and never to have swerved to the right hand or to the left when he. believed that he was in the way of righteousness, however rough and steep " ; and if, in some of his impetuous assaults upon the vices of the day he may have exceeded the bounds of a wise prudence, it was only natural in a man who, fearing God with all his heart, was insensible to the fear of man. Before entering on the ministry, but probably after his resolution to do so was irrevocably formed, he appears, in preparation for it, to have divested himself of the incum- brance of a good deal of superfluous wealth. As my uncle states that '" he was by nature inclined to husband his re- sources," I cannot but think that this laying aside of his pos- sessions was deliberately and conscientiously done; and had it not been for his subsequent engagement to Miss Hesselius^ which may have modified his views as to his right to divest himself of his property, he would probably have gone to a still greater length in lightening the burden of his worldly cares, so that he might more entirely give himself to the race set before him. Owing to the mismanagement of his stepfather, his mother's estate had become seriously embarrassed, and to her he presented " Hart Park," comprising about four hun- 90 ^ne ^un^reb '^eare il^o. dred acres. To an uncle, whose property had also becomfe embarrassed, he released a bond of seventeen hundred pounds, and to a brother born after his father's death, and for whom no adequate provision had been made, he gave 500 acres from the Oxon Hill estate. In addition to this, he refused to prosecute his claim to a large property in Eng- land, which was afterwards outlawed. A gentleman, returning from England many years after, informed him of his claim, thinking that he was -ignorant of its existence. He replied that when he could have recovered it without difficulty he had made no effort to assert his rights, because he thought that he possessed as much property as was desirable; that perhaps if life were to be lived over he might act differently, but it was too late to think about it, as it could now onlv be reclaimed at an enormous expense. My grandfather's en- gagement to Miss Hesselius, and the date fixed for his mar- riage, are alluded to in the following letter from Mary Grafton Dulany: Mrs. Diilany to Miss FitzJmgli, after the death of Mrs. Fitzhugh. Annapolis, 30th April, 1792. My Dearest Polly : I have long wished to write to you — but writing has of late appeared to be a task almost insurmountable — however I am determined to conquer these feelings as much as pos- sible for the sake of my darling children who are anxious to hear from me. With respect to those who are taken from us, w4io have regularly adhered to their duty, I look upon it that they are Keturn (o ilnnapofie. 9^ highly favored in being snatched from their troubles here, to meet their reward at an early period — I can truly say that I have long wished that I had been deemed worthy of such a translation — & my earnest prayers I find necessary to pre- serve my wishes from being too sanguine — at my ad- vanced age this must be natural my D^" but I hope that you & all my darling children may be long without cause for these sensations. While I am wTiting to you my heart over- flows wath love & tenderness, & I long to clasp you to my bosom — but I fear it must be some time first — Your Cousin Walter goes up on purpose for a visit, which I hope will be agreeable to you all — he is truly one of the best of human beings — his happy day is fixed for the fifth of June — She is a very clever & a very good Girl, it is a most agreeable family connection & there is great reason to hope that it will be an happy union. If anything is stirring amongst us in town he knows a great deal more about these things than I do & he will in- form you — Remember me in the most affectionate manner to your D^ Father & all my children — God bless them — I feel T am sure a truly maternal affection for him & fervently pray for the felicity of him & his. I pray God bless you all. Your most affec't Grandmother M. DULANY. CHAPTER VIIL His Marriage and the Young Ladies of the Period. 1789-1793. he became afterwards still more intimately con- nected with Mrs. Hesselius, and as my uncle, in his " Recollections," seems to take the greatest delight in dwelling on her character, which, says her bio- grapher. Bishop Henshaw, " shed the cheering light of an almost spotless example throughout a widely extended circle for more than half a century," I will add the following sketch from the pen of her grandson: " My grandmother Hesselius was a very remarkable and very elegant woman: remarkable both for her talents and understanding. Her father, Richard Young, was a gentle- man of fortune and resided on an estate in Calvert Co. A short time before his death he removed to Primrose Hill, near Annapolis. From the literary tastes and pursuits of my grandmother, I presume that her father was a gentleman of finished education, who spared no pains in the education of his only child. Good schools for young ladies were very rare in this country at that time, and I have never heard that she was sent abroad. I have heard her called the Hannah More of America, and I doubt not in similar circumstances she might have been equal to that eminent lady. My grand- BETSY AND CHARLOTTE HESSELIUS. Painted by their father, John Hessellus. •Poun^ Ba^tee of tge (period 93 mother was lovely in age and must have been very beautiful in youth. Her head and face were perfectly classical, eyes soft in expression, of an azure tint, a nose that Praxitiles would have rejoiced to copy, and a profusion of hair, though silvered by time. " Her children and her grandchildren loved her dearly. Everybody loved her. How well I remember the dignity of her character and the unbounded respect in which she was held! In her presence all seemed to be on their good be- haviour, but at the same time cheerful and happy; disputes or angry words were never heard in her presence, nor was all this harmony produced from other fear than the fear of offending one that w^e loved. Each night around the old armchair a happy group would assemble, and when conver- sation flagged, some good book w^ould be taken up, and one of the party would read therefrom while the rest would ply the needle." But her own sketch of the Primrose household, written for her younger daughters in 1788, and entitled "The Family Picture," is still more graphic. The poem is too long to be copied here entire, but it presents such a picture of the man- ners, occupations and even dress of the " young lady of the period " that I will make large extracts from it. THE FAMILY PICTURE. The evening was frosty, the wind at northwest, The beasts had sought shelter, the birds were at rest. Brisk Bob on the tables the candles had placed, And locked all the doors and the windows made fast. The fire was clear and the hearth was quite clean, And asleep on the carpet Grimalkin was seen. 94 ©ne '^xxrxtvt^ '^eare ilgo. At the head of the circle I'd taken my place, While ease and good-humor appeared in each face. As a knowledge of self is a knowledge too rare, I proposed to the girls, that with caution and care. Each character I with precision should draw. Each excellence mark and expose every flaw. My plan was approved. Next my muse I invoke. And summon fair truth to appear at each stroke. . . . See Harriet appears. Some say she's too grave, but I think not at all, Though she never exhibits at play or at ball. Like the low, humble violet, content wdth the shade, Nor envies the tulip its gaudy parade ; She fixes on virtue true pleasure to find, And studies no graces but those of the mind. Miss Charlotte comes next ; but what shall I say ? 'Tis hard such strange features as hers to portray; Not that Nature, herself, has refused to be kind, Or stamped her displeasure on person or mind. Now assist me, kind genius, and aid my design. While I try of this portrait to sketch the outline. Good-humored but thoughtless, she caii't be called vain. Though she loves a craped head and is fond of a train. In the morning her features she will not expose. For the flounce of her cap almost covers her nose. Her handkerchief's crimpt and quite up to her chin, But generally partial for want of a pin. When dressed, still her head has a great deal of trash on ; If her gown is pinned crooked, it's made in the fashion. To tambour on crape she has a great passion, Because here of late it has been much the fashion ; But for waiit of due care the crape has got tattered. The shades are dis-sorted, the spangles are scattered. Too thoughtless for conquest, too careless to please, No ambition she knows but to live at her ease. To load one's poor brain with dull care is quite silly : •^ouno; BaMee of t^t ^tvio^, 95 If she wants but her thimble she calls out for Milly. Unconscious, she dreads not the tongues of her sex : Being unused to slander, she never suspects. She hates defamation. To give her her due, She's gentle to all ; in her friendships most true. Young Caroline next in the circle is seen ; Though large in her stature, she's not yet fifteen. She, too, loves the fashion and dress without measure ; A new gown's a delight, a new cap is a treasure. Not idle or careless, to give her her due, What she thinks is her interest she'll strive to pursue. Loves to tambour on muslin as misers love pelf. Sometimes for her friends, but much more for herself. Not unpleasing her manners, her person is nice, But how shall I tell you she scorns all advice ? The pianoforte she touches with skill. And manages " Nicolia " quite at her will. But though music and neatness together unite, Her frown often puts all the graces to flight. The next is Eliza, the child of my care, Whom I nursed with devotion and fancied her fair. What pleasing delight in my bosom I found When she sat on my knee or perhaps played aro.und. I've surveyed, with the eye of a parent, each grace That sat on her form or that played in her face ; Her eye that spoke softness, her lovely brown hair, And skin that to lilies might justly compare. I viewed all with rapture, but mote when I'd see Her tender affections were fixed upon me. To go or to come, to run or stand still. She ever was pleased to attend on my will. Oh, have you ne'er, after beautiful morn, Seen the clouds gather blackness, the sunbeams withdrawn. Each flower then languish, their beauty decay ? So vanish my prospects, my hopes fade away. 9^ One ^x^n^vt^ ^tavQ ilgo. (For, alas ! poor Betsey had fallen into a bad habit of stooping, was negligent of her appearance generally, and when reproved was inclined to be pert to her mamma, who, I am afraid, had spoiled her sadly.) When my work -was quite finished and held up to view, Not one in the room their own character knew. Said Charlotte, surprised, "Sure, this cannot be ; Mamma, could you ever design it for me ? So careless and indolent ! sure, 'tis a shame. And if such were my conduct you justly might blame ; But I beg you'll remember how much work I do — Six handkerchiefs lately, some double-hemmed too, All ruffled and trimmed in the fashion most new." Then growing more grave, she began to reflect. If real, those evils 'tis time to correct. Young Caroline blushed and discovered a tear. " Mamma, I must think, has been rather severe : ' Ill-natured and selfish, not under control,' This portrait I hate, I declare from my so'ul." Poor Betsey cried sadly, was greatly distressed. Such a pert, awkward baggage her picture expressed ; But being by reason a little subdued, With her two elder sisters did wisely conclude. That as they to themselves were such profound strangers, And hourly exposed to such hazards and dangers, They'd look to their mother for aid and protection. And take her advice for their future direction. All happy at length to come under this stricture. So good an effect had the Family Picture. The old house of Primrose Hill is still to be seen, though no longer in possession of the Hesselius family. It is easy in fancy to people it again with the happy group which once gathered around its ample fireside. One can almost see UJ O cr a. CO T3 ■a t. m X o cc >» J2 3 m *X)oung Ba^tee of tge (period. 97 those bright young giris in their quaint morning caps and snowy " kerchiefs crimpt and up to the chin," busy with their " tambour work " and their old-fashioned music. I wonder how "Nicoha" would sound to our "classic" taste on Miss Caroline's pianoforte? Pretty miniatures of her, and of Miss Charlotte, with her '' craped head " (and train, no doubt, though that does not appear) are still in existence. She was " not without wit," as her mother declares, and some clever verses of hers found their way into the " Ga- zette." A hundred years afterwards they were copied and illustrated by Mr. Mayer in a manner that would have re- joiced her heart, and republished in the " Century." I received another graphic picture of this family group many years ago from my revered friend, Mrs. Catherine Few, of New York. She was the daughter of Captain (afterwards Commodore) Nicholson, of the " Defence," and vvas about that time visiting some very gay relatives at An- napolis. She was very young and much admired, and en- tered with great zest into the fashionable amusements of the society there, which she told me appeared to her much more briUiant than that of New York ! One morning she rode out with one of her young ad- mirers to breakfast at Primrose. When they entered the porch they found the door open and the family assembled in the hall at prayers. As they stood and listened, the con- trast between these peaceful morning devotions and the gay and thoughtless scenes through which she had been passing made a deep impression on her mind, and led to a lifelong friendship for one of its members.* I have still in my pos- * Harriet, afterwards Mrs. Murray. 9S (One it^nnU'C^ l)car6 iigo. session their carefully preserved correspondence of more than half a century. Friendship was a virtue characteristic of that leisurely time, when as yet the arts of conversation and letter-writing;- had not been superseded by the newspapers, and played an important part in its daily life. Even the houses of that day seem to have been constructed more with a view to the en- joyment of the society of friends than for the display of wealth or of artistic taste, and their friendships, like their houses, were expected to endure and to descend to their posterity, as this one notably did. i8q3 differs from 1793 in nothing- more than in the educa- tion of its vouno- ladies. It mav be interesting-, in view of the great advantages of the present day, to look back and see for a moment how our grandmothers grew up and with what ideas their education was conducted. We have had quite a peep at the young ladies at Primrose. Miss Eliza has now returned from school in Baltimore. We hear nothing fur- ther of that school, until a few years later we have a delight- ful correspondence between ]\Iary Grafton T^ulany. Jr. (who has taken Eliza's place with her mother's dearest friend. Mrs. Philip Rogers, and is going probably to the same school), and her father, Alajor Walter Dulany. The letter from Major Dulany to his daughter gives some hints on what has been said to be a " lost art"; indeed, I may say on two lost arts, for conversation as well as letter-writing can scarcely now be said to be cultivated as an art. ^oun5 EaUzQ of tU (period. 99 Maj. Dulany to his Daui^htcr. July \Gt/i, icSo/. Aly Darliiio; DaugJitcr : The pleasure which your letter of the 25th of May afforded nie was great. I liope from it, that you will use the applica- tion needed to become an adept in so necessary an accom- plished as the art of letter-writing. Inasmuch as you ap- pear to have an idea of the end for which letters are written, namely, to supply the place of that conversation from which we are debarred by absence, from holding with each other. From want of due reflection on this, what absurdities do we see people led into when they sit down to write a letter to a friend. If they aimed at nothing more than communicating what would be most interesting, with sucli remarks as naturally occurred, it would be unnecessary for them to " hammer their brains" at the unmerciful rate they often complain they are obliged to do, for something to say. In letter-writing, as in conversation, it will be found that those who substitute the design of distinguishing themselves, for that of giving pleasure to those whom they address, must ever fail. But though I object to a desire of distinguishing one's self as a primary object in either conversation or letter- writing (which leads directly to affectation), I should be far from desiring you to be careless of the figure you may make in either of them. There are few things in which the rule — " Whatever you set about, determine to do as well as pos- sible " — is more necessary. Having decided upon what is proper to be said, accustom yourself to express it in the best too r '.; tv,' >r^> ^JST« .11^. mar - Avs: «r^ the vvorvSji :h,a: t:x>>ii exAody vN>n>e5- fv«d v : : : . Jt^i \\>« nK^n K> exprx?^;?^ Tbere are if w^er pot<^.v Afi v/ : in ' >ver \v»ur T \-. , VK^ftheo" . .:.§■ vM :ho ., ,.v . .:5 ^%>B\i>i y. .. ,- ,ivte o<\m^ . . :v> <«f>ek K>r. Want of attf£itk>ct to thb cBe:?5rv>Y5 the sv>ff>ce ot nvany a <>^ntenoe. It h345^ b«^n reriTiarkted ufnoci as^ a grreat excellence ot GenT WasJiktgtk^ji's wTtttng that ik> one odnld s^uWtinsite a sii^de word which c'd $>i> w^H expre:?* hb meiauning. I hax-e heard, whether it W trae^ or ncMt I cannot sar^ tfiat loc jeven vears ot* hb Kfie he n^ver wrvxe withcHit having; hb DiHrdonary be&>re hinL I acti vJehgrhied with i^ teeJsngr you express at yoor es- cape lironi the Exhihition of the s»choc4. I lament mnch the instittttk^n of them in owr vanou? ?choolsw That w^ shook! be so indostnoos to destiv^r that dithclence which is not onlv so becofctisig;. hot so beneficial,, to TOOth and tnexperieno^ wtmld aeilonKsh me, bat that it s^c w~ell acoords with the man- ners and haJbits ol thinldnir of the d.i That kind of a^ snrance which ames irom caOoos feeUn^ k di^[t]£tnigr to alL Asstoranoe. to be ple9ssf*«r '™^'!^st be derived frv>m ctilrix-atingr in our own minds a ^ ^ .on towards others — and an tMi&etgned wish to oblige and render alt axomid ns com- fioctablie and happy — together wTth that knowledgie of how- to oofidnct owDTselves tti vairk*a> situations which is gradually acvpnred by mingtbs^ with the worfcL In the attainment of that fcno' \; ? mtfich assistance may be src^t by obscrringf what rmders; such a person pleasing or displeasinsr. But I muKst say something: ftnthcr upon the sabject of ^oun^ Ba^te0 of tge (J)mo^. loi imitation, as I have been led into it. A young lady who takes another for a model, however graceful the manners of that person may be, loses whatever was natural and easy in her own; whilst allowing her even to be successful in her imitation (against which there are many chances), they may become her as little as the clothes of another might do. My daughter will not fail to be struck with the strange figure she would make, for instance, in a dress of Mrs. R.'s. Tlie loss of so excellent a mother as you were blessed with, your Aunt Rogers undertook for a while to supply, and you are with her as a child of her own. I fear to dwell too much on the obligation lest I should substitute awe and constraint for ease, and destroy on both sides the pleasure of your in- tercourse. But, my dear daughter, be open with her: make her your confidant. Could you but have a distant view of the infinite mischief arising from a habit of concealment you would shudder at the bare thought of being betrayed into it. How about the drawing you were to send me? How could it enter your head that your letters were not worth the postage.. Twas not till the loth of May I got by Packet, your letter of April 25th. Mary Grafton Diilany to Major Dtilany. August, 1807. I received your letter, dear Papa, and am very much obliged for the good advice you give me and I hope I shall profit by it. Anne O. Rourke spent a week with us. Mrs. Groom- bridge's vacation did not commence as soon as the other 102 One ^\xn'^vz'i> ^tav^ il^o. schools, and Aunt excused us to Anne, and we went as usual to our drawing lesson. I went on Wednesday to Madam B's Exhibition. There were five Crowns: the two principal — for Eminence in lessons, and virtue. The Crown of Emi- nence was given to Anne McKim. They were crowned in great style at the Assembly rooms in the presence of 500 spectators. As for Mrs. Groombridge she has postponed her examination till Christmas. She says she will show the people what her scholars can do. She was bitterly against crowns when she first heard of them. When I went there the next day she told me she would have a crown for the most Eminent of every class. Ever your dutiful daughter, M. G. DULANY. p. S. I should like very much to have the Spectator, but Aunt says she supposes you read in them yourself: if that is the case I would not deprive you. I don't think I shall read much until I leave school. From that time I promise myself great diligence in my books. I promise you RoUin and Trimmer shall have the greatest care taken of them. Mary G^'afton Dulany imaged i^) to Major Dtilany, Greenwood, 1806. I am grieved, my dear Papa, to think of the little inter- course bet^veen us. Your letter which I received a day or two ago was particularly gratifying to me. You can judge by the pleasure you experience in hearing from me, what delight a letter from you gives me. You say nothing of coming from the Eastern Shore, but I sometimes for a mo- *9oun3 Balke of t^t (peno^. 103 ment indulge the idea that you will one day live amongst us, but it promises too much pleasure, and it does not become me to prescribe for you. Perhaps it is a kind of selfishness that arises from ignorance of your affairs that induces me to think you could quite as well reverse matters: live here, and pay a visit once or twice a year to the Eastern Shore ; where 3'ou must be separated from all Society that can be agreeable to you. Bless *'RolHn!" I think his characters and anecdotes of celebrated men very entertaining; but I think his history ought to be epitomised for females, for of all things that Peloponesian war is the dryest and most tedious to me. I know little more about it than I did before I read it, except that it was fought between the Alceans and the Pelopon- esians. I found it so uninteresting I began to think of dis- missing Mr. Rollin and getting something more entertaining. As to the " Shirt " which Aunt tells me she mentioned to you, I think it may vie in tediousness with the Peloponesian war. I went on with it charmingly at first. It is now laid by till I take breath for a new assault when I hope to give the conquering blow. Aunt Brice is delighted with the French officers. She has constantly at her house five or six every evening. Aunt R. does not like my going while they are there. I should pre- fer being at Cousin Mary's where I could see company when I chose, for I think I should be surfeited with so much every day, I wish Papa, if convenient, you would bring my satin wood box. I think it will be well to wrap it in something thick for fear it should be rubbed. Ever your dutiful daughter. 104 ^^^ ^untvet) ^tat^ ilgo. Another letter says: Nancy Weems has arrived in town and tells me Cousin Mary will be hurt if I do not return to Annapolis with her. If I can get ready, I don't know but I may, for if I wait for the French Officers I may not get there till next Winter: besides I have not such an invincible hatred to them, as to make me forego Cousin Mary's agreeable society. P. S. " Mrs. Twitchem with her one eye A wondrous length of tail lets fly. And as she passes through every gap Leaves a piece of her tail in the trap." What do you think of this riddle? It puzzled us not a little. Perhaps you will think it of more consequence when I tell you it was proposed by the Bishop of London. Write me word what you think it is. Even in this age of advanced education I am sure it will be difficult to find among young ladies of thirteen a more attractive letter-writer, though one cannot help smiling at her desiring that " Rollin " should be " epitomized for fe- males." It is a little mark to show how the age has ad- vanced in its ideas of feminine capacity. This young lady, by the way, was named Mary Grafton Hesselius Dulany. Both Mrs. Dulany and Mrs. Hesselius being named Mary, she was named for both. But we must return to Primrose. " Primrose Hill," writes my uncle, " was a centre of great attraction. The young found much pleasure in the beauty "Poung Babie© of t^c (peno^. 105 and accomplishments of the young ladies, and the grave and serious had the greatest delight in the society of my grand- mother. My father soon found his way there. His visits at first were to my grandmother, to hear her talk and to gather instruction from her lips. The girls, much amused at this intimacy, used to call him ' Mamma's Beau.' How- ever, other motives after a while threw their influences around him. Miss Eliza, who had been at school in Balti- more for several years under the care of her eldest sister^ Mrs. Philip Rogers, at length returned home. She was just seventeen and very pretty, and what was better she had superior graces of the mind. A mutual attachment soon sprung up between them, and in June, 1792, they were mar- ried. My Aunt Charlotte was married on the same night to Mr. Thomas Johnson (son of the Governor), and a very large company was invited to Primrose. The bridesmaids were Miss Sarah Leitch (daughter of Major Leitch, aid to Gen'l Washington, who was killed at Harlem Plains; she afterwards married my uncle John Addison); Miss Murray, afterwards Mrs. Gov. Lloyd; Miss Maria IMurray, afterw^ards Mrs. Gen'l Mason, and Miss Cromwell, afterwards Mrs. Lee. " At that time Oxon Hill was occupied by Mr. Washing- ton. My father rented a house near by of Mr. Dennis Ma- gruder; and Uncle John, marrying about the same time Miss Leitch (by the way, a great belle and a great beauty),* they * In an old letter without date Mrs. Belt says : " Miss Leitch with her hair crimped looks divinely. Great preparations are making for her appearance at the Races. She has worked herself a very handsome muslin gown with a long train, and fortunately a new cap & some other little articles of finery are just arrived from England." io6 One ^un^re^ "Peare dtlgo. determined to rent the house between them, as Giesborough, my uncle's place, was also under rent. " The two families lived in great happiness together, and from this fact my grandmother Hesselius called the place * Harmony Hall,' which name it retains to this day.'' During this happy year he continued with diligence his theological studies, and June, 1793, removed to Oxon Hill. W?-^ CHAPTER IX. His Early Ministry. 1793-1799- ^•.6> HAVE before me two venerable parchments, yel- low with age, and with clumsy seals attached to them. The first is dated August, 1793, and reads as follows : " Know all men by these presents that I, Thomas Jno. Claggett holding a general Ordi- nation by the assistance of Almighty God on Sunday, the 26th day of May 1793, in the Parish Church of St Peters Talbot, did admit our beloved in Christ, Walter Dulany Addison, unto the Holy Order of Deacons. In testimony whereof, I have affixed my Episcopal Seal, this 22nd day of November, in the year of our Lord above written, and in the second of my Consecration." I touch this old paper reverently. It is the commission of a faithful soldier of the. Cross, who fought a good fight and entered into rest half a century ago, full of faith and good works. His was the first ordination by our first Bishop, who himself had been consecrated only six months before in Trinity Church, New York, September, 1792. " This elevation to the Episcopate," says Mr. Allen, '[ was the first instance of the national independence of the Church, showing that it had no longer need to seek consecration loS One ^un^rc^ "Peave dtlgo. abroad. In him America had its first home-made Bishop. . . . Bishop Claggett had been very loyal to the Church of England, and had the courage to remain true to her against the current of popular feeling. Although he had been for- bidden to use the prayer for the king, he had gone through the entire service (although as pale as death) in the presence of a band of armed men who stood within the church. He was threatened with riots, yet remained true to his convic- tions; but finding that he could not conscientiously perform his duties, he retired to private life." After the war was ended he took an active part in organizing the Am.erican Church, and in 1791 w^as unanimously elected Bishop. " His sermons," continues Mr. Allen, " were always preachings of the Gospel in its purity." Such was the leader under whom Mr. Addison entered the ministry. The manuscript of my uncle, Wm. Meade Addison, which was written under the dictation of my grandfather, gives the following account of the circumstances attending his ordina- tion: " He (Mr. Addison) had for years been studying to enter the ministry, and in the spring of 1793 he repaired to the Eastern Shore to receive ordination at the hands of Bishop Claggett. The convention of the Episcopal Church was about to meet at Easton, and he left Oxon Hill to attend its deliberations as spectator, and after its adjournment to be ordained Deacon. " The state of piety in our church was very low at this time. Many of the clergy were men who had entered the ministry not for the glory of Christ, but for the honor and advantage of themselves." (This sad state of things was, Ofiination an^ 6at*fp QUtntettp. 109 alas! not confined to the Episcopal clergy.) " Genuine piety" was almost circumscribed to the laity. Occasionally there might be seen a minister whose humility, zeal and piety at- tested his fitness for his office, but rarely was the heart of the believer gladdened by the sight. One clergyman but a short time before had murdered an adversary and been con- victed of and punished for it. Many of them passed their lives in rioting and revelling. The ball-room, the card party and the bar-room they frequented, and by the irregu- larity of their lives, as well as by the tenor of their preaching, exhibited their unfitness for the sacred duties of the Sanctu- ary. " The pious members of our Church mourned its dis- honor. They were driven from their own Temples to the meeting-houses of the Methodists. Mr. Addison remem- bers seeing pious laymen pass the church of which Mr. Hig- ginbotham was Rector in the city of Annapolis and go to the Methodists. They would not separate themselves from their own Church, or become members of another, but they went where they could hear the Word of God truly preached, which they could not do in their own Communion. Mr. Higginbotham was fond of card playing, and one Sunday morning in drawing out his handkerchief a pack of cards escaped from his pocket, and from the height of his ' three- decker ' pulpit was scatteded over the chancel, to the amuse- ment of the congregation. " Mr. Addison before his ordination had acquired some reputation for piety. It was known that he would not attend theatres, balls, &c., and that he condemned it in others. The Rev. Mr. Messenger, who was Rector of the parish in which Mr. A. lived, was a member of the Standing Committee, and he determined to prevent, if possible, his admittance into the Ministry, on the plea that Mr. A.'s views were Puritanical, or inclined to the Methodists, but Mr. Carr, the gentleman who had been Mr. Addison's guardian, was also one of the vestry of Mr. Messenger's Church and a man of influence. By his vigorous interference Mr. M. was induced to withhold his opposition. This Reverend gentleman, at the wedding of Mr. A.'s sister to Mr. Samuel Ridout, of Annapolis, actually played the fiddle for the company to dance. " While attending the Convention as a spectator, Mr. Addison looked into our Canons, and discovered that those for clerical discipline were inadequate. Having inquired into the character of the Clergy present, he learned that among them was a gentleman of the name of Coleman, of Baltimore Forest, distinguished for his Christian zeal and purity of life. On him he called and suggested to him to take measures for adopting a Canon which should prohibit the Clergy from frequenting taverns and places of vicious amusement, and from frequenting Balls, &c. Mr. Coleman would probably have to meet with strenuous opposition and have to encounter the charges of innovation and Puritanical strictness; but Mr. Addison happened to have in his pocket at that moment a copy of the Canons of the Church of Eng- land that would refute these charges. Mr. Coleman ac- ceded to the proposition and offered the Resolution, which was immediately opposed by Mr. Higginbotham, who was followed and supported by Rev. George Ralph. (Whether others opposed it in debate A^Lr. Addison does not remember.) Mr. Coleman replied, produced the Canons of the Church of OtrMnation (irx't> ^avf^ QUimett^. in England, showed that he was no innovator, stated that he only desired that the discipline of the Church of England should be applied to the Church in this state, and finally suc- ceeded in having the proposed Canon passed." That it was adopted, and also the fact that so good and true a man as Bishop Claggett was unanimously chosen Bishop, proved that, although the standard of religious life was very low in the Church, there existed an honest desire for better things, which opened the door of hope to those who were praying for her regeneration. Thus young Walter Addison dealt his first blow for the honor of the Church of God, and it was aimed with a directness which justified Mr. Messenger's mis- givings. " Some time after, Mr. Messenger, finding that his appre- hensions were realized, tried to divert Mr. A. from his course. He addressed him a long letter, in which these amusements were ably defended. Mr. A. recognized it as part of one of Seed's Sermons (written against these very amusements), in which the author arrays all that can be said in their favor in the first part of his discourse, and then refutes every argument adduced in their support in the second por- tion. The second part was withheld by Mr. M.: the poison administered without the antidote. " Mr. A.'s first thought was to send him the second part of the sermon, but as Mr. M. was advanced in years he questioned the propriety of doing so to one whose age en- titled him to reverence. He contented himself with answer- ing the views in his own language, declaring that his con- science constrained him to hold opinions dififerent from those entertained by Mr. M., and obliged him to pursue the course he was then engaged in. 112 One ^unbre^ "Pearg ilgo. " He had procured from England a pamphlet addressed to * People of Fashion/ which he carried with him to the first Convention of the Diocese. This he caused to be repub- lished and widely circulated, and he believed that it con- tributed not a little towards the establishment of the Lay Discipline now regulated by the Canons of the Diocese as revised in 1836- 1847, the year of his death. It was a great cause of thankfulness to him that he was spared to witness the recognition by the Episcopal Church of principles and rules of life as essential to Christian character, which half a century before he had been ridiculed for maintaining and striving to enforce. '' The race-field at that time was attended, without scruple, by professing Christians. As regularly as each season for racing came on he preached against it. Frequently this gave offence, but as he never noticed the displeasure, it soon passed away, and the temporarily deserted pews were again filled." I am tempted here to give a quotation from Dean Hole, illustrative of the same period in the English Church : " I remember a remark of the late Bishop of London, Dr. Jack- son, that when he recalled the sad condition of apathy, indo- lence and disobedience into which the Church of England had fallen it seemed marvellous that it continued to exist: that it should survive such manifest indications of decay. I did not share his surprise, believing that as a branch of the true vine it may droop but it cannot wither. Moreover, there was the remnant of 7000 which had not bowed the knee to the Baal of worldliness. "' The Evangelicals, the Wesleyans (not then severed from ^r^inatton ant 6arfj QUintetr^. 113 the Church), and devout Christians in all grades of society, kept the lamp from going out in the temple of the Lord. The pulse of spiritual life was slow and intermittent, but it encouraged hope. And so I record the memory of my boy- hood, were it only to suggest and to strengthen the grati- tude which we owe for a revival of faith, by the recollection of neglect and dereliction. I remember with a reverent re- gard those ' holy and humble men of heart,' who, few in number, the fewer the greater share of honour, followed in quietness the steps of their Divine A/[aster, and went about doing good in schools and colleges, sick rooms and mourner's houses, from that ' Charity which vaunteth not itself.' " The Clergy were, with few exceptions, indifferent to their duties and unworthy of their office: they did as little as decency compelled, and that but once a week. They ate the fat and clothed themselves with the wool, but they did not feed the fiock, and the people loved to have it so. " Had he lifted up his voice like a trumpet, as St. James, he would have been denounced as a Methodist." He goes on to say of the "Revival": "In that great revival of Re- ligion, the glorious truths of the Gospel and the ancient writers of the Catholic faith were restored to a disobedient and gainsaying people who had forgotten and slighted them so long. They were with us in our Bibles and Prayer Books, in our Sacraments and means of grace, but hidden from our eyes like the colours of the picture by the dust of a long neglect." Another difficulty which Bishop Claggett had to encounter was a financial one. " The voluntary contributions of the 114 ^ne ^unbt-e^ 'Qeare ilgo. people were not equal to those which had been enforced by the Government for the Established Church, and the for- tunes of many had been, more or less, embarrassed by the war, so that they could not give as they might otherwise have wished to do. Besides this, the recession of the Eng- lish Clergy had left the Church with an insufficient supply of ministers, and in the struggle to maintain themselves the common resource was to join several parishes together with services on different Sundays, which rendered their duties arduous and impossible to discharge adequately." My grandfather was essentially a man of one idea, and in this probably consisted his strength. His one idea appears to have been to raise the standard of religion in the Church he loved, and to purify her from the scandals which made her a byword. The low tone of religion which produced Wesley and Whitfield, in England, inspired him with the earnest and enthusiastic resolve, as far as in him lay, to labor for the regeneration of the Episcopal Church; not to desert her in her hour of weakness and desolation, but by using every effort in his power, in the legitimate exercise of his office as her ordained minister, to arouse her to a new life. This, his unwavering aim, he steadily and persistently pursued till his latest breath. Sprague's American Pulpit says of him : " He no sooner entered upon the ministry than he made war upon fashion- able amusements of balls, card-playing, theatres, &c., in which laity and clergy at that time alike indulged. This war he continued to carry on from the pulpit until his infirmities withdrew him from that scene of labor. In private and in public, in prosperity and adversity, in the vigor of youth and the decrepitude of age, as a minister actively engaged in his duties and a minister retired from public service, he steadily opposed them by precept and example as fatal to spiritual life." His extreme truthfulness and simplicity of character made it impossible for him to reconcile these things with the solemn baptismal vow of the Christian. Doubtless these evils, which had become so great a scandal in the Church, may have presented themselves to him in exaggerated im- portance. The Christianity of our day wisely ceases to antagonize the outward manifestations of the absence of religion in the heart, but pursues the plan of endeavoring to awaken the sonl to a sense of better things, thus aiming to treat the source of the disease rather than its symptoms. But let us not forget that we live in a more enlightened day. God uses different instruments and suits them to different conditions in His Church. We must consider that the " Garden of the Lord " was at this time about to be newly planted and ordered, and those who were to do the work found that thorns and weeds had entirely overgrown it. The hedges were broken down, lawlessness and disorder reigned, and before the good work of planting and building could be effectual it was necessary first of all that the ground should be cleared and prepared for the good seed. The men who did this work were followed by those of different gifts, able to build up and adorn where they had only broken the ground, opening the way for work which, without them, would have been impossible. ii6 (T)^^ ^un^rc^ '^eare dtl^o. Of good Bishop Claggett's successor. Bishop Kemp, it is said : " It was not his wont to attack by name any worldly amusement, however objectionable, endeavoring to imbue the people with Christian feeling, by which he believed they would become Christians in practice." Immediately after the adjournment of the Convention at Easton, Mr. Addison took charge of Queen Anne's Parish, Prince George's county. This parish had formerly been filled by Rev. Jacob Henderson, who held the office of Com- missary or Supervisor to the Colonial Church. It is de- scribed by Mr. Allen as a beautiful tract. The neighbor- hood was settled by the Ridgelys, Snowdens and others, all rich planters. Mr. Henderson had married a wealthy lady and lived on his own estate (Bel Air), as did his successor, Dr. Brogden, at Roedown. (From this I presume there was no rectory connected with the church.) Henderson's Chapel was also included in this parish. The flock were widely scattered, and the great distances between these churches and his own residence rendered Mr. A.'s duties as pastor very arduous. In addition, his health had begun seriously to fail, and he found that his utmost diligence still left his work incomplete. Finding that he could not dis- charge his duties to his satisfaction, he determined to resign, which he did after two years' service, though my uncle says he frequently preached for them afterwards. At the Convention of 1796 he was appointed on the Stand- ing Committee, but declined to serve, urging the disadvan- tage of his youth and inexperience. He was also appointed Visitor for Charles county, which he declined on the same plea. He had evidently learned from his experience at Or^tnafion anl 6atf^ (TlUmetrp. 117 Queen Anne's a lesson of humility. Though always re- markable for his modesty, he had, notwithstanding, by nature a great deal of self-reliance. Experience, however, had taught him a little self-distrust, or, at all events, to esti- mate more truly his position as a young clergyman, and to feel the want of a larger knowledge of men and of the world. The following letter belongs to this period: To BisJiop Claggeti. January ^th, 1797. Rt. Rev. & Dear Sir : Agreeably to yr Request I have examined Mr Swann on the several Branches of Science required by the 7th Canon of Genl Convention. It strikes me that he has a genl know- ledge of most of them, on some particular points — he is able to bear a much closer examination than I am able to give him — I am really sorr\^ it will not lie in my power to be with you on Thursday I hope it will be in my power to so ar- range matters in the spring, that I can leave Home without suffering great inconvenience which can not be done at present I assure you. I now fully propose to rent out my Farms. I shall then be able to attend more to ministerial Duties. Of course I shall have it in my power to preach for you when you are called from Home. You will please present my compliments to Mrs Claggett and the young ladies. My uncle continues: "He now gave himself up to study, and to the ministrations which fell in his way, whether in ii8 Cne ^un'i>vt'i) 'Peare ilgo. assisting his Rector, now old and increasingly infirm, or in ministering to the ' scattered remnant ' in Georgetown, or in visiting the sick and poor, and thus several years passed away. His time was fully occupied in assisting other Rec- tors and in performing whatever acts of beneficence came in his way. One of these, which proved very successful, I will recount: In one of his rides he found, in a distant part of his estate, a wretched cabin, on entering which he beheld a widow woman and six children in a state of great destitu- tion. Very near the Oxon Hill gate resided a respectable colored man in a very comfortable house. My father suc- ceeded in persuading him, for the sum of twenty-five dollars, to exchange his habitation for another, and here he estab- lished the family, that he might have them directly under his eye, sending his wagon for them, and making them as com- fortable as he could. As the boys grew up they were ap- prenticed to good mechanics, and the girls married respect- ably." Dr. Addison also gives the following anecdote of his early ministry : " He was once sent for to see an old gentleman in the neighborhood, who was very ill. He was notorious for his hard swearing; the habit had strengthened with his years and become inveterate. " After reading the Scriptures and prayer, my father took the old man kindly by the hand, and said : * Mr. Lowe, if it should please God to spare your life I hope you will never swear again.' * No, Wattie,' said he; ' ii I do, I hope I may be d — d.' I did not get this story from my father, but sev- eral persons were present and it got out." In 1801 Mr. Addison returned to Oxon Hill, and for this Ordination anb (Barfp QUinietr^. 119 and the succeeding years he continued to preach at different churches in his neighborhood, more especially at St. Johns, " Broad Creek," for Mr. Messenger, who had now become old and very infirm. Finding this old church in a very ruinous condition, he applied to the vestry to repair it; they replied that they had tried to raise funds for that purpose, "but could only get subscriptions to the amount of twelve dollars and fifty cents. He at once took the matter in hand and succeeded in having it new roofed, etc., at an expense of from $500 to $600. It was about this time that Mr. Hanson offered Hart Park for sale, and my grandfather repurchased it, and a year or two after removed his family there. The climate of Oxon Hill had never agreed with him, but I have lieard that he also gave as a reason for his change of resi- dence that he found the expense of keeping up so large an establishment burdensome, for the house, ample as it was, was generally full of guests; but I have also heard that when the alterations he made in Hart Park were completed, there was very little difference in point of size between the two houses. This, however, was partly owing, no doubt, to a scheme which he had been forming, of undertaking a school there; one was very much needed at that time to prepare iDoys for college. My uncle's narrative continues: "In the year 1794 there was no Episcopal Church in Washington City, and hearing that there were some Episcopal families in Georgetown, my father visited the place, and was invited by the Rev. Mr. Balch, of the Presbyterian Church, to hold Episcopal ser- vices in his Church, and he continued to hold services there for some years. ' It was a shame,' the good Dr. would say. 120 One ^untvt'^ ^tav^ il^o. ' that the Episcopahans should not be able to worship ac- cording to their own views and tastes/ Not only did he lend his pulpit, but actually suggested to Mr. Addison to try and erect the Church, since known as the ' Old Church ' (St. John's), and tendered a subscription in cash, which Mr. Addison always believed was every cent at the time in his possession. ^Ir. Addison prepared a subscription paper and called on I\Ir. Barclay, of Georgetown, a gentleman of means. ' Bless you. Sir,' was the answer, ' we don't want a Church; the place is past that. I'll subscribe for a jail, but a Church is useless here; the place can't be benefitted by such means.' He however succeeded in raising some funds, which were applied to it, and the Church was completed at length and the Rev. ]\Ir. Sayre established as Rector, I think, in the year 1804. " My father's whole study was how he could make himself most useful to the world, and, with my mother's consent, he opened a school at Hart Park. I think he did this, that without injury to his family he might educate some poor relations, w^ho were unable to pay for their schooling. Six or more he educated free of cost (clothing them besides), and when nearly grown procured employment for them. He had an average of 20 scholars, }et financially I think the school was never a success, though the good which it en- abled him to do was among the exalted pleasures of his life, and he had always a passion for teaching, which continued to the end of his life." CHAPTER X. A Year at Annapolis. 1799-1801. N the Autumn of 1799, I think it was" (writes my uncle), " an accident happened on the road between Oxon Hill and Giesborough that laid the founda- tion of my mother's ill-health, which a few years after terminated her life. She was extremely fond of exer- cising on horseback. One day, while on her way to visit my Aunt, Mrs. John Addison, her horse stumbled, or gave way in one of his hind legs, and in order to preserve her ^eat my mother made a violent effort, which caused the rup- ture of a small blood-vessel in the lungs. The bleeding was small, and after a few days all anxiety ceased; but some months after a sudden start in sleep caused the hemorrhage to recur, and a very gradual decline ensued." What made this the more distressing was the fact (which my uncle does not mention) that the " start " was caused by my grand- father himself, who, finding her asleep one day on a sofa, and wishing to awake her, playfully touched her with a feather which he held in his hand, with this fatal result. His removal to Annapolis and residence there, during the year 1800, was probably occasioned by his desire that she might have the gratification of being near her mother. His 122 One 'j^Mn'f>v^'i> '^eare Jlgo. own health, too, was at this time very bad, and having no regular charge it was in his power to take a much-needed rest. For some time previously my grandfather's mind had been much exercised on a subject which was just then begin- ning to excite discussion in the minds of earnest men, a sub- ject which has since convulsed and nearly rent asunder our whole country. Slavery had been considered just and right by the most scrupulous. It was thought to be sanctioned by Holy Writ, and to be a necessary arrangement: beneficial as well to the slaves, who were brought out of savage heathenism to a higher state of civilization, as to the masters whom they served. The duty of treating them with consid- eration and kindness was fully recognized, and we find on the old tombstones a " good master " is placed with a " kind Tiusband " and an " afifectionate father." From the Church records, etc., which I have seen there was evidently an •earnest effort made to Christianize them and admit them to the Church. Public opinion was also against their ill-treat- ment. The state of the public conscience, however, I think cannot be better illustrated than by the following letters from my great-great-grandmother Dulany to her son. Major Dulany. Her own letters and all the family traditions show her to have been a woman of tender feelings and that she was a kind and sympathetic mistress, and yet she seems to have had no scruple whatever about selling her servants. Cruel masters at that time were most unusual, and she seems to liave parted with her servants with as little compunction as the mistress of a household in the present day dismisses them when she finds it necessary to reduce her expenditure. cE "Pear at ilnnapofte. 123 Nevertheless, it was with a shock, I confess, that I read the following letters: Extract of a letter from Mrs. Diilany to her sort: Aug. yth, 1783. As for Jacob, I gave the best Description I could, of him (having never laid eyes on him) as a likely young Fellow of two or three and twenty. I have since heard from Gen'l Washington that after the siege of York he eloped from his Master Capt. Bradford and stole part of his clothes. I have been obliged to sell all the negroes belonging to y'r uncle's Estate: otherwise I would most freely have parted with some of them to help you. They were an unmanage- able set through their master's over Indulgence. Besides there is such a spirit of setting them free amongst us, that it was thought most Advisable to part with them, and rent the land lest they should be quite lost to us. On Maj. Dulany's return to America, he found his land confiscated and seems to have been a good deal embarrassed in consequence. His mother endeavored to console him with her confidence in the favor and goodness of Providence, in a case where we might feel he had no reason to look for it. It is evident, from the perfect naivete with which she writes that she herself has no misgivings whatever as to the righteousness of the course she justifies. In March, 1798, she writes again: " I hope you will come to view your Situation in a more favorable light. You already seem impressed that Providence has favored you in 124 <2Dne ^un^reb '^eare dtlgo. several instances. You and I have experienced in general great favors from it. Enough I think to make us confide in it: and I hope when you send your slaves to market you will find it so in an Eminent Degree. God forever bless my darling son, and prosper him in all his laudable undertakings (none other you ever had) to sup- port his family and extricate himself from Embarrassment. Prays fervently Your af¥ect mother M. DULANY. It was in the year 1800, and while he was at Annapolis, that my grandfather came to his final decision to free his slaves; but even when he had come to see that to be a duty, it was by no means the simple duty that it has appeared to those who have not considered the subject in all its bearings. Here were a number of helpless and dependent beings to be thrown on their own resources. So far as their individual well-being was concerned there could be little doubt that they were happier under the protection of a benevolent and conscientious master than they would be in the exercise of a freedom for which they were unprepared. Then, too, other masters were to be considered, whose servants might be ren- dered restless and unhappy by seeing their neighbors set free while they remained in a servitude which they had accepted till now as inevitable. These masters would naturally con- sider it an unneighborly and unjust action towards the com- munity to release from all control a set of idle people to disturb the peace and good government of other well regu- lated plantations. The arguments on both sides were many and weighty. My grandfather weighed the matter well be- dEl 'Xjtav at ilnnapofte. 125 fore acting-, and took the view of the question which a later generation has accepted as the just one. He made up his mind to set his servants free, but only as they arrived at a certain age, 25 for the men and 20 for the women. It is a proof that he considered his health at this time in a very pre- carious state, that having come to his final decision during a sleepless night, he arose from his bed (as I have heard) and added a codicil to his will, so securing their freedom that no vicissitude of illness or death might prevent his de- cision from being carried out. I have the will in my posses- sion, dated 1798 and written in a clerkly hand. The codicil is in his own handwriting (his estate then appears to have been valued at about $200,000). His brother-in-law, Mr. Ridout, shared his sentiments, and he also freed his slaves and sent them, I think, to Liberia. My uncle William writes : " I am sorry to be obliged to add that I have often heard ni}^ father say that of all the men whom he set free only three or four proved, by their good living, that they were capable of freedom, and one sold him- self again into slavery. Their history exemplifies what the history of the world has often taught on a larger scale, that to be and continue free, and to enjoy its blessings, people must deserve freedom." " Mr. Addison, with his mind informed by experience and the observation of a long life, has remarked to the writer, that if his course were to be gone over again he would pur- sue a different method with his slaves. If they could not be sent to Liberia, he would not wrong them with liberty. The women whom he set free were generally as unfortunate as the men." (Only one of them all survived him, I believe: 126 One ^untreb 'X)eatr0 ilgo. old " Aunt Rachel," who had been a pensioner for many years, and whom at his father's death my uncle, Wm. Meade, received as a legacy and always provided .for.) Mr. Ridout's experience was equally discouraging, as I have heard from his son. Dr. John Ridout. As Washington City was so near the scene of my grand- father's labors, and so much of his ministry was associated with it, it may perhaps be well just to glance at what was taking place there. The site for the city was selected by Gen. Washington in the year 1791, and the first session of Congress there held was in the year 1800. No Episcopal church was then erected, but services were conducted at the Capitol alter- nately by Bishop Claggett and a Methodist preacher of great eloquence, a Mr. Lyell, who afterwards returned to the Episcopal Church. Mr. A. was also holding occasional ser- vices at Mr. Balch's church in Georgetown. The country at this time was threatened with a war with France, and the people were much divided in feeling. A strong party, remembering with gratitude the aid France had given us in our late struggle for liberty, were thoroughly in sympathy with the Republic, while others, contemplating with horror the scenes which had been enacted during the Reign of Terror, agreed in the decision of Gen. Washington, " that the Republican rulers of France could claim no grati- tude for services rendered us by the Government they had overthrown." Among the French officers who had rendered gallant ser- vice under Lafayette and Count Rochambeau, and who had charmed the hearts of our fair ladies at Newport and An- cH 'Sear at ilnna^^ofie. 127 napolis, were some who had graced the brilHant court of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette. Among these was her faith- ful friend Count de Fersen. They all belonged to that class which had given so many victims to the blind and cruel rage of an infuriated populace (by whose will the then govern- ment of France held its power), and the sympathy of their friends in this country was naturally with them. The Jay Treaty had caused great offense, and war with France seemed impending. That government had refused to receive our ambassadors, though a hint was thrown out that a subsidy from the United States might induce them to entertain a more favorable sentiment. This it was which drew from Mr. Pinckney, one of our ambassadors, the noble reply, '' Millions for defense, but not one sixpence for tribute." The following letter from Mrs. Dulany shows the feeling" of the anti-French party: Epping, April, 1798. My Dear Betsy : I have no doubt of your seeing Mr. Fitz Hugh on his way to Virginia. I think unless he has a mind to Dispute, you will find him quite one of us. We do not think that our Commissioners were " suppli- cating," but that it was necessary for them to show every disposition for a peace: to convince our rascally French fac- tion, that the fault could not be attributed to our side, that it was not Obtained; and it certainly has had a good effect. The disclosures of these conferences and the demands on America, have opened the eyes of the generality of people. 128 ^ne 1^unl)re^ 'X)ear0 cE^o. who joyn in abusing the French, as cordially as you, and I could do and seem now disposed to do everything to defend themselves from them, which was far from being the case before. I was a little afraid at first that the Congress was too So- licitous, and w'd have given up: but when I came to "No, No, No; not a sixpence," I was quite delighted with what appeared to me a manly conduct. I am in great fear for dear old England. I tremble at the idea of her Destruction or even Decline, which the c — f — d French are so much bent on. They seem to do what they will. Heaven grant them a speedy Reverse. I am, with dear love, M. DULANY. Kitty joyns in Love. " There was a lay Methodist meeting-house belonging to the colored people in that neighborhood over whom Mr. A. had much influence, and for whom he sometimes officiated. Dr. Balch also used sometimes to visit this humble Temple and distribute sacred truths to the illiterate congregation that assembled there to hear the Word of Life. " In 1800 Mr. A. resolved to take a step towards the erec- tion of a more suitable building than the log house just spoken of. He made the congregation a present of a lot of ground to build a convenient edifice. No one, however, prosecuted the plan, and the lot was allowed to remain un- improved. In 1816, when Mr. A. was living in George- Town, he resolved to erect the church for them. He carried the deed which granted the land to the Methodist Church in Jl ^tav at ilnna|>ofi0. 129 one hand, and a subscription list in the other. With them he succeeded in raising six or seven hundred dollars in cash. He gave the wood to burn the brick. The cartmen sub- scribed labor; the mechanics, labor also. In a short time an excellent brick meeting-house was completed and now stands an ornament and a blessing to the neighborhood. It lays no claim to architectural elegance, but nevertheless it adorns the fair and lovely landscape of which it forms part: for blind to the beautiful must he be who sees nothing to admire in the simplest monument that speaks of God, or in the rudest edifice that intimates man's consciousness of a Hereafter. Broad Creek Church was a great distance from Oxon Hill, and but for this meeting-house the people in that neighborhood would rarely have entered the Church of God. A spirit of indifference to eternal things was painfully appar- ent. To the erection of this place of public worship Mr. A. •attributed in a great measure the preservation of a Christian spirit in that community." " About twenty years after this St. Barnabas was built through the zeal of Christians kept alive as Mr. A. believes by the religious services held in that meeting-house. Thus the good done to another Christian sect was blessed to the increase of our own. While Mr. A. was engaged in build- ing this meeting-house the Rev. Mr. Wilmer, of Alexandria, waited on him and remonstrated against the aid he was lend- ing the Methodists, telling him that the ' fires on his own altars were expiring while he was fanning into a flame those that were kindled on another's.' He only replied that the service he rendered the Methodists he knew would redound to the benefit of his own Church; that we would sometimes 130 iOnt ^un^rcb 'J)car5 dRgo. fall asleep if the ^lethodists were not by our side to stir us up to activity. He added : ' I believe that the ^lethodists have rendered the Episcopal Church the most essential ser- vice, and that to them under Providence we are indebted for the zeal and piety that now belong to it.' " Among my old papers I find this very subscription list, written in my grandfather's own hand and signed by many of his friends and members of his congregation in George- town. V- ,•'"•'>>■:>, CHAPTER XL Rector of Broad Creek. HE oldest parish record spoken of is Piscataway or Broad Creek Parish, called St. John's P. G., con- tiguous to the Potomack, and Piscataway creek, dated Jan. 30, 1693. It contains the name of John Addison, Privy Councillor. His grandson Henry was Rec- tor of St. Johns for thirty years."^ He was educated at Ox- ford, and in the corner of a quaint old portrait of him, in possession of the family, is a scroll containing the picture of his college. He took refuge in England during the war, but at its close returned to this country and resided on his estate until his death in 1789. His Parish would have no other pastor during his life. A later descendant, Walter Dulany Addison, became Rector in i8oi."t The traditions of the neighborhood tell us that General Washington used occasionally to worship in this old church (which is nearly opposite Mt. Vernon), coming across the river in his eight-oared barge with his family, and that after service he might be seen taking snuff with the parson in the churchyard, or discussing the crops or the profits of the seine with the farmers. *The old Bible and Prayer Book used by the Rev. Henry Addison in this church are still preserved in the family. In them is written " Pre- sented to me by the honoured Lady, my mother." t Sermon by Rev. Mr. Stanley. 132 (Ont ]^\iiixUc^ ^tavQ dtlgo. A writer in the Washington " News " thus describes the old parsonage: "A large, plain brick house of the colonial period, with a fine broad hall and a wide stairway, with gal- leries above. It must have been an elegant home a century ago, and the brick walls are still as sound as when first built, but the interior has been abused; the panelling and the laboriously hand-cut scrolls decorating the walls are badly broken, but these, with the arched cupboards in the dining- room, and the folding inside shutters in the deep recessed windows, show that the place was expensively built." This rectory was occupied by Mr. Messenger, but neither my grandfather nor his uncle Henry ever lived there. The ground around it is low and marshy, and the proximity of the creek renders it malarious, and I believe the old rectory has long been deserted. When, at Mr. Messenger's death, my grandfather was made Rector of Broad Creek Parish, " it contained," writes my uncle, " three churches : Addison's Chapel, near Bladens- burg, which was built by the Rev. Henry Addison; Broad Creek, and Akokeek. Here he continued until 1809, giving to his temporal concerns so much of his time only as duty to his family required. Had he striven with the same as- siduity to improve the broad acres of his inheritance that he bestowed on the vineyard of his Master he would have had an overflowing abundance of temporal riches. His ardent aspirations, however, looked far beyond the things of time, nor would he ever suffer these to come in conflict with the things of eternity. Owing to his own perfect honesty and directness of purpose, my father was unsuspicious of others, and was, moreover, full of that ' charity that thinketh no (Rec(or of (gvoa^ ^vuL i33 evil.' He was consequently the victim of many imposi- tions." That my grandfather's " broad acres " were very badly managed indeed, I have no doubt, from the traditions which were still circulated when I was young. He was not a man who had much respect for established precedents, and there- fore probably made many disastrous experiments, and his blunders were often exaggerated. The emancipation of his slaves was an unpopular measure, and his own farming op- erations were sensibly embarrassed by it; gradually the able- bodied and efificient workers were withdrawn, leaving the estate encumbered with the old and helpless and the very young. His neighbors were inclined, perhaps, to a little sharp criticism; it was not generally ill-natured, however, and nothing could be a greater proof of the respect and afifection in which he was really held than his appointment as Rector to his own vacant parish. One of these stories to which I have alluded is a type of the rest. During a certain inclement spring he had ordered his sheep to be sheared in a mild spell, but very cold weather ensuing, he was so touched by their wretched appearance, deprived of their warm coats, that he sent to Alexandria for a bale of cloth and had them blanketed. To make the story more pictur- esque, they were said to have been dressed off in " red flan- nel," and that the sheep, panic-stricken at beholding them- selves in this strange attire, fled in terror from one another and could by no means be brought together again. My uncle always indignantly protested against the truth of this story; still it showed that his methods were not held in re- spect by the farmers, and from the results perhaps they had 134 One ^un^re^ 'peare ilgo. reason for their opinion. Though very gentle in his man- ner, he was not a man to be readily advised, but was in the habit of thinking for himself on all subjects. I notice in my great-grandmother Hesselius' letters little expressions which show her solicitude about his worldly concerns, and yet her reluctance to interfere with her advice, which is the more remarkable, as with all her children she was consulted as an oracle. Between herself and my grandfather there had from their earliest acquaintance existed the closest friendship; yet there was evidently a point beyond w^hich she did not ven- ture to intrude, though she was a member of his family from 1803 till her daughter's death in 1808. Bishop Meade says of him, that though the meekest of men, he was very bold in rebuking vice, and on several oc- casions his fearlessness subjected him to personal danger. On his way to Broad Creek Church one Sunday morning he learned that a negro had become intoxicated at a tavern, and had been suffered to be out all night, though the weather was severe, in consequence of which exposure he either died or was very near dying. Indignant that such an outrage should have been committed within his parish, before he en- tered the pulpit he denounced the transaction as " un-Chris- tian and inhuman." The publican was in church at the time, and was so incensed that he declared he would flog Mr. Addison the first time he met him. Hearing soon after of the threat, Mr. Addison mounted his horse, rode to the man's house and inquired of him if his information was cor- rect. He was told that it was and that he richly deserved a chastisement, that he had unnecessarily wounded his feel- ings, and that he should have spoken to him in private. Mr. (Kec(or of (groal CxuL i35 Addison then readily acknowledged that he had been inju- dicious in the selection of the occasion for his reproof, but could not agree with him that he did not deserve just such a verbal castigation as he got. The tavern-keeper did not at- tempt to carry out his threat, and shortly after his place was broken up. On another occasion he was perhaps in still greater jeopardy. " He was crossing the river," writes my uncle, " by the Oxon Hill ferry, when a storm arose which threatened the safety of the boat. One of the passengers was swearing in the most shocking manner. My father took occasion to rebuke him, telling him his conduct was sinful and blasphemous, especially at such a time. The reprobate turned fiercely around and threatened to throw him over- board ; indeed, he made an effort to do so, but was prevented from executing his purpose, and before the boat reached the shore his temper had calmed. Some three weeks after my father was sent for to visit in his ministerial character a per- son who was lying at the point of death. When he ap- proached the sick bed, he recognized the passenger over the ferry who three weeks before had been insulting his Maker by his blasphemy. He was sadly changed ; he was skulking from death, and overwhelmed with dismay at the thought of that future into which he supposed he was just entering, and of which in the days of vigorous health he had been unmind- ful. My father prayed by his side, and gave him such advice as he considered his case required. He recovered, and be- came a converted man, and ever after was a consistent Chris- tian, and never ceased to be grateful to him, and followed him about from place to place to hear him preach. Many years after, when he was settled in Georgetown, Mr. Addison 136 One ^unUtt '^eare il^c. was sent for by his family from a long distance in the country to perform the last religious offices over his remains. It was Mr. Addison's habit, whenever an occasion offered, to say something in behalf of Christianity, if indeed it were only a word; the seed might fall on a barren soil, or on a rock, yet even there some crevice might be found where the word of truth might take root. One Sunday morning as he crossed the ferry to Mr. Davis' church, for whom he was to preach, he saw on the wharf a gang of negroes returning with their empty baskets, which had been laden with fruit and vege- tables which they had just sold in the city. He spoke to them earnestly of the sin of Sabbath-breaking, and urged them to abandon their Sunday traffic. He then left them and pursued his way to church. Twenty or more years after he went to preach at Addison's Chapel ; it was his prac- tice to converse on religious subjects with any one whom he saw lingering in or near the church. On this occasion he observed when the services were over a venerable colored man who was officiating as sexton. He approached him and entered into conversation with him. To his great de- light he learnt that he was one of the Sabbath-breakers whom he had addressed on the wharf at Alexandria, and that on that occasion he had received his first religious impres- sions, he from that time forsook his Sunday occupations and became a truly pious man. Indeed, I believe he never al- lowed any opportunity of doing good by counsel or exhor- tation to escape him unimproved. The utility of his course in this respect is illustrated in the case of Rev. Thomas — . Among the many tenants that he found on Oxon Hill was old Si — , who occupied a small tenement to which was at- (gectov of (g^voa^ CvuL 137 tached some ten or twenty acres of land. The rent paid, was the services of Httle Tom, then about twelve years of age, in riding occasionally to the mill. The father was an habitual drunkard and the sons also were vicious. But the mother was an excellent woman. At one time she was very ill, and Mr. Addison went to read and pray with her. He observed little Tommy creep into the room and take his seat by the bedside. When he left, the little fellow followed him to the bars and let him through. Struck with the boy's gentle manner, he took from his pocket a scrap of paper, on which he wrote: "If sinners entice thee, consent thou not; walk not in the way with them; turn your feet from their paths," and handed it to him. It was a delicate way of warning him from the influence of his father, brothers and sisters. On a Sabbath morning not long after, while on his way to Broad Creek Church, he overtook the little fellow wending his way to the same place, and entered into conversation with the child. " Do you know how to read?" " No, sir; I wish to God I did." " Then come to me to-morrow, and I will send you to Mr. McDaniel and have you taught." On the fol- lowing day he accordingly presented himself at Oxon Hill and was put to school, where he remained 18 months, at the end of which time Mr. Addison attempted to bind him out as an apprentice to learn a trade, but it soon became apparent that an injury received in one of his arms when a child dis- qualified him for making his living by manual labor. Mr. Addison had now begun a school at Oxon Hill ; he proposed to his wife that they should take the boy into their house and place him on a footing with the other boys. She con- sented, and he was accordingly matriculated. After he had 138 (Dne ^Mn^vtt 'Xjtave il^o. made sufficient progress to take charge of a school, Mr. Ad- dison procured him a situation in the family of his brother as tutor to his young children. Here Bishop Claggett was a frequent visitor, and becoming interested in him, advised him to study divinity, offering to lend him books. He gladly came into the good Bishop's views, and after a few years of study was ordained. He afterwards married a lady of wealth and beauty on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. In 1839 ^^- — was leading Mr. Addison through the streets of Baltimore, when he delicately testified his recol- lection of the incidents of his early life by the remark: " Ah, Mr. Addison, you led me when I was blinder than you are," at the same time he recalled to Mr. Addison the incident of the scrap of paper at the bars. Mr. — also insisted on returning to Mr. Addison the money which his schooling and clothing, etc., cost. The tragical death of his uncle, Lloyd Dulany, at the hands of the Rev. Mr. Allen, in his early youth, had made a strong and ineffaceable impression of horror on my grand- father's mind. This cruel and barbarous custom of duelling was then justified by public opinion, and duels were by no means of infrequent occurrence. It was about this time, I think, that the celebrated duel between Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton occurred, which deprived our country of one of her greatest men and made of another an outcast and a conspirator. The horror which this event occasioned was very great, but it did not prevent the recurrence of simi- lar tragedies, and the un-Christian usage was not" con- demned by men, in other respects of high Christian prin- ciples; on the contrary, a man who hesitated at the alterna- (gectot: of (gvoat> ^vuL i39 tive of imbruing his hands in the blood of another, or of sacrificing his own life for an offensive word, was esteemed a coward, and lost caste with honorable men. Few men had the courage to incur such a penalty, and some of the noblest spirits of the country fell at the hands of men who would have given anything they possessed to avoid the encounter to which they were constrained by the inexorable " code of honor." One of the saddest of these cases was the duel of Mr. Tack McCarty with Mr. Mason. Mr. McCarty had gone to the limit permitted by this savage code to avoid the conflict. The choice was with him, and he had even pro- posed that they should take hold of hands and jump from the top of the Capitol together; but Mr. Mason's seconds insisted on the quarrel being carried out in the usual man- ner to the bitter end. Mr. Mason was killed, leaving a lovely wife to mourn for him through a desolated life. Mr. McCarty's fate was even sadder; he never recovered from the remorse with which the terrible event filled him, but was all his life haunted by this dreadful memory. To my grandfather the folly and wickedness of all this was simply not to be borne, and he exerted himself so actively against it that Bishop Meade says " his opposition to duel- ling and the means he adopted to prevent it made him for a number of years very notorious among the members of our American Congress. While pastor of St. John's Church, Georgetown, he had frequent opportunities of exerting him- self for the prevention of duels. He has often detailed to me the circumstances attending these efforts; his interview with Mr. Jefferson, when he had reason to think one of the parties was in the President's house; his pursuit of them on HO ' One ^un^tre^ "Peare ilgo. horseback, and overtaking them just as the seconds were measuring the ground; their threatening to tie him to a tree in ArHngton forest; — these and such Hke things I have heard from his truthful Hps." My uncle, Dr. Addison, gives a fuller account of two of these affairs: " It was a source of never-failing pleasure to your grand- father to recount his happy success in once preventing a duel between two gentlemen of his acquaintance. The par- ties were Samuel Carr and Philip Baker; the former was the son of my father's aunt, and both gentlemen were near neigh- bors and his parishioners. Mr. Carr was also nephew to ]\Ir. Jefferson. It was in the year 1801, when Mr. Jefferson had just taken the presidential chair, and Mr. Baker had written several newspaper artides of great severity against the President; it was noised abroad that a challenge would probably pass. This came to my father's knowledge, and he determined to prevent it if possible. On one of his visits to Washington he was struck with a very singular saddle-cloth, made of leopard's skin, which, on inquiry, he was informed belonged to the President. Some time after, and while the duel between Messrs. Carr and Baker was the subject of conversation in the neighborhood, he observed a gentleman on horseback near Oxon Hill gate with this ex- traordinary saddle-cloth. It immediately occurred to him that this person might be the bearer of a challenge from the President's nephew. He was not wrong in his conjecture. He immediately repaired to the President's house in search of Mr. Carr, with whom he had an interview in the presence of Mr. Lewis, Jefferson's private secretary. He urged every argument in his power to dissuade him from his mad and (Hector of (§voat> ^recft. Hi wicked design, and enforced them with his most earnest entreaties, but all to no purpose. He left them and went in search of a constable; one was found with some difficulty, but he had retired to rest and refused to turn out. Finding his arguments unavailing, he offered him $io if he would arrest them before they mounted in the morning. The man consented, but next morning informed Mr. Addison that when he reached the President's stables they had started and could not be overtaken. INIuch discouraged by this failure, he then adopted what he thought was his last resort. He addressed a note to Mr. Jefferson, in which he informed him of his nephew^'s project and begged him to interfere and stop the duel. This note he bore to the door in person. Before he had left the yard a messenger overtook him and requested him in the name of the President to return. "Mr. Jefferson had just risen from his bed; he requested Mr. A. to be seated and to relate the circumstances of the affair as far as he knew them. This being done, he par- ticularly inquired how he (a clergyman) came to be privy to such a transaction. He replied: 'If I answer you in the world's language, I must say accidentally. If in the lan- guage of truth. Providentially. At all events be assured that I received my information neither directly nor indirectly from any one connected with the transaction.' " Mr. Jefferson then observed that he was assured Mr. Lewis would do all in his power consistent with his friend's honor, to arrange this unpleasant collision amicably. ' At the word honor I was,' said Mr. Addison, ' chilled with hor- ror and left him to his own reflections.' " In a desponding mood my father crossed the river at 142 One '^un'^vt'b '^eare ilgo. Georgetown on his way home by the Alexandria road, and who should he meet on his way but Mr. Baker and his sec- ond, Dr. Ridgely, riding at a rapid rate. My father turned his horse and was soon in hot pursuit. ' Where are you going, Mr. Addison?' asked the gentlemen. 'To keep you com- pany,' was the reply. With that they put spurs to their horses, but they gained nothing, for my father was an ac- complished horseman and was well mounted. Turning in their saddles and seeing that your grandfather could very well pass them if he would, they made some threats and demonstrations that they would tie him to a tree, but second thoughts, which are often best, gave impulse to their heels instead of to their plan, and renewing the spur they pushed on, my father close behind. " It was not long before the parties came to a halt, and Carr, with his second, Mr. Lewis, was seen on the ground. This latter gentleman, approached your grandfather, rudely asked him what he wanted. The reply was, ' I am here to prevent murder, sir, if I can,' and he expressed the hope that the point of honor between the gentlemen might be deferred to the arbitrament of gentlemen of standing, to determine who w^as the aggressor, and what redress in the form of apology or retraction should be made by the party found in the wrong. Mr. Lewis fiercely replied that no such course should be pursued, and commanded him instantly to leave the field and let the matter rest with those who v/ere con- cerned in it. "As this order was not immediately complied with, Mr. Lewis then expressed the hope that Mr. Addison at all events would not mention the names of those whom he might see on the ground. He replied, ' I shall see (Hector of Q0troa^ CvuL i43 nothing, sir, for if I cannot prevent the shedding of blood I shall not stand by to witness it' " Finding he could do nothing, he withdrew, and went in search of a magistrate, whom with some difficulty he found. He was a lame little man, and he took him on his own horse, and with all practical speed they returned to the field of honor, but found the combatants had shifted their position. They started in pursuit, and on their road picked up a re- cruit, a tall, raw-boned man, with a long gun, who consented to act as constable. The belligerents were at last found: they had entered a tavern to complete their new arrange- ments. The magistrate and constable followed them and made several arrests. When Mr. Addison made his ap- pearance a storm of furious invective assailed him. They declared they ' believed he was at the bottom of the arrest.' This he could not deny with truth. The parties were all bound over to keep the peace, and the duel for the time was prevented. It was believed the duel was abandoned, and Mr. Addison returned to his accustomed pursuits, from which he was again called one Sabbath morning as he was about leaving home for his church, by a letter from his mother, informing him that the matter was still unadjusted, and if he would prevent the duel not a moment was to be lost. He despatched a messenger to the church to dismiss the congregation, and proceeded immediately to George- town, where he was invested with authority to arrest all per- sons who should be breaking the peace or 'who would be likely to do so,' and hearing that Mr. Baker was at his step- father's in Georgetown, thither he repaired; they were just going to supper; he joined them, and after supper tapped 144 One ^unt>vzt> ^tavQ ilgo. Mr. Baker on the shoulder and imparted to him the starthng intelligence that he was his prisoner and must give security to keep the peace to the amount of $5000 or go to jail. My father used to recount with some humor the consternation produced by this measure. The incongruity of the proceed- ings furnished matter of amused conversation for some time ; but the duel was terminated forever, and I think this was one of the happiest days of my father's life." Bishop Meade gives another instance of the same sort: " At the time of the threatened encounter between Mr. John Randolph and Mr. Eppes he was fully prepared to prevent it, and if necessary deposit one or both in a place of confinement. Mr. Ran- dolph was then an attendant at his church at Georgetown. Eleven o'clock, Sunday morning, was selected for the com- bat in order to evade Mr. Addison's vigilance, as it was sup- posed he would then be at his post of duty. But he be- lieved his post of duty that day was to be elsewhere, and he did not hesitate about disappointing the congregation. For some time after the appointed hour he was posted near the hotel where Mr. Randolph boarded, ready to arrest him should he leave the house. But an adjustment of the diffi- culty took place. Mr. Stanforth, from North Carolina, a steady and judicious friend of Randolph, was engaged in the adjustment. He knew where Mr. Addison was and what he was prepared to do, and he it was who informed him that he might now go with a quiet conscience to his Sabbath duties, as the difficulty was settled. This I had from Mr. Stan- forth. " Mr. Addison," continues Bishop Meade, " was equally opposed to strife in the Christian Church. Though a true (Reciotr of (gvoab CvuL 145 lover of our own Church and passionately devoted to her services, yet he was no bigot, but embraced all Christians in the arms of his wide-extended charity. The unchurching doctrine he utterly rejected. Just before I lived with him, an Episcopal paper was commenced in the North which took that position. He either subscribed to it, or it was sent to him, but on finding that it declared all other ministries invalid, and all other churches out of the covenant, he re- turned the paper." During his ministry at '' Broad Creek," my grandfather used occasionally to preach for Bishop Claggett in the Hall of Representatives. We have a very curious description of the impression made upon a stranger, not only by his ser- mon, but also by his personal appearance on one of these occasions, Sunday, 5th of February, 1804. The old news- paper which contained it, " The Washington Federalist " of April 1 8th, 1804, was preserved by his brother John and found a few years ago at Colebrook among his papers and given to my uncle as a curiosity by his daughter, Miss Addi- son. My grandfather had never been known to allude to the letter, or the occasion which called it forth; so it either dis- pleased him or made no lasting impression on his mind — probably the latter. I think it very improbable that he intended anything per- sonal to the President, but at that time the circulation of infidel books and the increase of infidelity in our countrv, among the higher classes especially, was causing the great- est anxiety among Christian people. The President was thought to have himself imbibed infidel opinions while in 146 One T^unlvt't "Peare il^o. France, and on this account was regarded with the utmost jealousy by the more rehgious part of the community. Party spirit, too, at that time was exceedingly bitter, and it was to gratify enemies of the President, no doubt, that the letter was inserted; but it must speak for itself: "The fol- lowing is an extract from a letter from a gentleman at Wash- ington to his friend at Philadelphia, giving an account of a sermon preached in the Hall of the House of Representa- tives by the Rev. W. D. Addison." " The gentleman who officiated for the day was entirely a stranger to me. He seemed about forty years of age, his complexion was rather sallow, and in his countenance care appeared to have been struggling for victory with cheerfulness. You did not dis- cover the traits of weak credulity. His was the aspect of great sensibility and benevolence, athwart which the knowledge of the world had thrown a few shades of distrust; but these were so blended and intermingled with what would otherwise have been a dazzling irradiation, that a mild and placid light was afforded which you could contemplate wdth infinite sat- isfaction. Age had not silvered his locks, though retirement and meditation had faded the roses on his cheek. He was not attired as I have seen many a clerical coxcomb, yet as one neither regardless of decency, nor too fastidiously nice. " The congregation had been drawn together without any previous notice, but as it was a fine day, the house was pretty well filled, and, as chance would have it, the President was that day at church. He selected for the subject of his discourse that excellent text of Scripture which enjoins us to abound in good works. He traced all the various relations in which we stand to one another and the corresponding (Rector of (gvoa^ CvtzL i47 duties which are required at our hand. He placed the vir- tue of beneficence before us in every possible light. It con- sisted not in the mere giving of alms, but in a thousand charities of life, which any one, whatever might be his sta- tion, had it in his power to dispense. There was a negative virtue of this kind which all might cultivate, that of omitting to injure others in thought, word or deed. How happy would life be, where the tale of slander could not circulate, where anger should be disarmed, and every noxious passion subdued. But when he came to speak of the lively and active virtue of beneficence and trace her in all her tender and endearing relations, every bosom throbbed with delight. He portrayed affluence shedding her comforts and blessings on all around, in colors so fascinating that I sighed for the gold of Potosi to enjoy such exquisite luxury, but he soon taught me that my heart was designed for a source of wealth more inexhaustible than both the Indies — that a kind look or a soothing word would oft surpass in value the miser's hoard, and the ears of sensibility were sometimes more pre- cious than the finest brilliants. He then talked of the force of example, and told us of the benefits which would flow from virtuous conduct in those whose station held them up to public view and popular imitation. He brought to my mind the beautiful sentiment of Marmontel. He seemed to say to our President, ' Oh that the Sovereign, the fountain of manners, would set, as he ought to do, the fashion of the heart!' He described to us the ground on which we stood, and conjured us modestly, yet earnestly, not only to be cir- cumspect in our conduct, but endeavor to become models for piety and morality. This led him to notice the profane 148 ©ne ^un^re^ 't)eaf0 JEl^o. and blasphemous publications which had been so indus- triously circulated* through our country; of these works and their authors he spoke as they deserved. To the intel- ligent, the sensible and the virtuous they were harmless. To a much more numerous class, to the young, the uninformed, to the giddy and thoughtless, the dissipated and the wicked they were a deadly poison which admitted of no antidote. He had before found the way to our hearts and had attuned our affections to the nicest harmony. Expressions of kind- ness and harmony beamed from every face. These are sen- sations which the bad as well as the good may sometimes experience, and the President himself seemed to be partaking of the delightful repast But when the subject of these pub- lications was introduced, all his transports were dissolved. The small still voice within his breast arraigned itself with that of the preacher. The honest heart refusing to perform its office called back the blood from his cheek, but instantly drove it back again. Claudius did not writhe with half the torture when he beheld the dramatic presentation of the garden scene where he had murdered the father of Hamlet. " But to return to our parson : He had selected this topic for the conclusion of his sermon, and such strains of elo- quence were never heard before. Save only one, all hung enraptured on his voice and scarce breathed while he spoke. When he ceased from speaking the audience seemed unwill- ing to rise from their seats, and each appeared desirous of prolonging this feast of the soul. " A whisper of curiosity ran around the house, but none could tell who he was. Had I not afterwards been otherwise * Tom Paine's "Age of Reason," &c. (Rectov of (§voa^ Creeft. 149 informed I should almost have believed that an angel of light had descended amongst us. His name is Addison; he lives a few miles below this place on the shores of the Po- tomac. For some time past he has been assiduously en- gaged in the education of his own children, with a few other pupils whom he has admitted to his house for this purpose. The thronged schools of the ancient philosophers are not to be compared with this, for here all the moral and Christian virtues will be taught, and practice and theory go hand in hand, for I understand he is not one of those who go them- selves in the primrose paths of dalliance, while they point out to others the steep and thorny road to virtue." CHAPTER XII. Home Life at Oxon Hill. ^ROM my uncle's '' Recollections " I have collected several sketches of the home life at Oxon Hill. The old house* is still standing and may be seen from the river, or even from the railroad. The main building is unchanged, though it has been divested of its wings. These were an almost invariable feature in old Mary- land houses; indeed, were demanded by the mode of life of that day. Sometimes they were detached, sometimes con- nected with the main building by a sort of corridor. One of these wings was generally devoted to the uses of the gentle- man of the house. Here he had an office, in which his busi- ness of various kinds w^as transacted with his overseers, ten- ants, etc., and where he kept his guns, fishing tackle and such manly appurtenances as might not be considered fit to adorn the hall or drawing-room; sometimes prints of celebrated horses ornamented the walls, or various trophies of the chase. It was for the master's exclusive and individual use. * On February 6th, 1895, this venerable mansion was destroyed by fire. The following notice appeared in the Baltimore Sun of February 7th : "Alexandria, Va., February 6th, 1895. — Another one of Mary- land's historic mansions has been destroyed. The spacious dwelling house on Oxon Hill, overlooking the Potomac, opposite Alexandria, caught fire last night, and was left a Avreck by the flames at daybreak ^ome ^tfe at €>;con ^tff. 151 The other included the kitchen, pantries and servants' rooms, though the servants most generally were quartered outside, with perhaps one or two exceptions. A cupola used to or- nament the top of this house in the old days, where it was pleasant to sit on summer evenings and watch the sun set over the hills back of Alexandria (now crowned by the Theological Seminary), with the broad Potomac flowing between. The view is still very fine, for the hill is high, ris- ing from the water's edge continuously for a mile. At its foot Broad Creek empties into the Potomac, and one can see as far down the river as Mount Vernon when the weather is clear. The city of Washington terminates the view on the north. Broad Creek in old times was bordered by malarious marshes, which rendered this beautiful site unhealthy in the this morning. This mansion has long been one of the landmarks of the neighborhood of Washington, and, with Mount Vernon, Belvoir and Carlisle House, made up the noted mansions of the neighborhood in colonial days." An Alexandria paper gives a more detailed account : ''A few min- utes past six o'clock this morning people who were moving about had their attention attracted to a light which proceeded from the old man- sion on the Maryland hills, just opposite this city. When first discov- ered a small spot in the roof only was burning, but it quickly spread, and in fifteen or twenty minutes' time the whole eastern heavens were illuminated by the conflagration — the fire raging furiously, the flames leaping high, while a huge volume of smoke settled over the adjoining hills. Numbers of people in this city went to the streets facing the river to look at the fire, which continued to rage for several hours. The origin of the fire is unknown from the fact that ice in the river rendered it impossible to communicate with the opposite shore. Nothing now remains of the former building but the walls and the four chimneys." 152 One ^un^ret) "Peave il^o. months of August and September. Indeed, my grand- father's health always suffered there. The society in the neighborhood was very pleasant, consisting chiefly of rela- tions and connections of the family to whom had descended portions of Addison Manor; a great many pleasant people also resided in Alexandria, which was just across the ferry. In her early married life my grandmother greatly enjoyed this pleasant circle. She delighted to fill her house with her young friends and relatives, and my grandfather being neces- sarily much from home in the performance of his pastoral duties, was rejoiced to indulge her in her hospitable pro- clivities. Indeed, they were both lovers of hospitality; but on one occasion, as the story goes, she had invited a larger and gayer assembly than he thought entirely consistent with the stand he had taken against worldly amusements, and it being too late to withdraw the invitations, he compromised matters by simply absenting himself from home for that even- ing. Of course he never had occasion to do so again. But I return to my uncle's manuscript: " My sister was born at Primrose, but I was born at Oxon Hill, and so were my brother Lloyd and a brother and sister who died in infancy. I remember well my dear mother's great affliction at the death of her children. She wrote some very pretty poetry on one of these occasions, which I will insert here: Oh, Edward, I have lost in thee A flower that ne'er shall bloom again ; Thy father's house shall no more see Beauty like thine in embryo man. ^ome Bife at (D;con ^iff. 153 But why lament the lovely boy ? My loss is more than gain to thee ; Go thou to everlasting joy, To all that's happy, all that's free. Thy little heart hath ceased to beat, Thy head, now cold, shall ache no more ; Safe art thou lodged at Jesus' feet, On Jordan's mild, delightful shore. Oh ! could thy mother meet thee there, With what impatient joy she'd leave This earthly tabernacle here, And fly to thee with joyful speed. But no, my sins forbid my flight ; My lamp, still dim, must brighter burn ; O Lord, increase its feeble light. And make me say " Thy will be done." Elizabeth Dulany Addison. " My mother had me taught dancing by a professor of that art, who came over the river from Alexandria to teach the children in the neighborhood. I was a very shy child, and I don't think I acquired much confidence by learning to dance, for I remember two ladies visited Oxon Hill one day, and my mother bid me go to speak to them. When en- treaties failed, she said : ' Go, my son, and make your bow and I will give you a quarter.' I could not resist the bribe, but my heart failed me at the threshold, and I did not ad- vance many inches beyond. My mother took much hiterest in the spiritual as well as intellectual improvement of her 154 One TEfurxlvt^ 'Xjeare il^o. children; she would have me drink deep at the fountain of knowledge, but she desired that I should also cultivate the graces. I remember well the prayers I repeated at her knee and many hymns also I learned at her bidding. There is one I often remember hearing her sing with my father: ""The Lord my pasture shall prepare.' When I was seven years old my parents took my sister and me to Bath for the months of August and September ; my grandmother accompanied us. Young as I was, I enjoyed it exceedingly. Our mother kept us at our books a part of every day, and in the evening my father would take me with him to walk, sometimes on the mountains, sometimes in the vale. My first Latin gram- mar was purchased at Hagerstown on our road; he had an Eton grammar, but did not choose it should be thumbed by me. This visit seems to have been enjoyed by all of the little party. The following lines, written before leaving Bath or Berkeley Springs, by Mrs. Mary Hesselius, give a pleasant impression of that resort as it was a hundred years ago : Ere three more days are numbered by the sun, Or three revolving nights their circles run, To Bath, with all its charms, I bid adieu, No more, perhaps, these pleasing scenes to view. With spirits bland we form the cheerful ring, And drink, well pleased, the health-reviving spring ; Or, underneath piazzas, view the scene Of rocky mountains fringed with evergreen, Where browsing sheep their wonted herbage find. Or court the shade, on nature's couch reclined. Oh, how shall I regret the morning walk. The social visit aiid the friendly talk. ^ome Bift at O;con ^iit 155 On rustic seats beneath the leafy shade, For pleasure and for friendly converse made. No more these streams, that through the valley play. And bright reflect the face of cheerful day, Shall glad my sight or murmur on my ear, And steal my mind from thoughts of future care. No more, collected in the bath, we'll lave, And gather strength from the salubrious wave. All, all is o'er ; but memory, the pensive hour to cheer, Reverting oft, shall pay her visits here. And swift imagination's airy wing Those lost enjoyments to my mind shall bring. Enough my fancy, nor impute to these What health and friendship gave, the power to please — These the best gifts that heaven doth bestow Of all its blessings in this world of woe, And oh, be ever praised, the Hand divine, That kindly makes these greatest blessings mine. It was in 1807 that Bishop Meade entered Mr. Addison's house as a student of divinity, and thus began a most tender friendship, which lasted until death divided them. It was through Mrs. Custis, a cousin of young Meade and a warm personal friend of Mr. Addison, that this arrangement was brought about. In after years they were in the habit of meeting for a yearly visit at her house at Arlington, and these visits were a source of great enjoyment to them both. " It was," writes Bishop Meade, " while reading under his direction that the first clear and satisfactory view of the necessity and reasonableness of a propitiation for sin by our blessed Lord was presented to my mind. I shall never for- get the time or the instrument, or the happy efifect, and how 156 _ One ^wn^ve^ "Peave dEl^o. I rose up again and again from my bed to give thanks for it." The book was Soane Jennings' Internal Evidences of Christianity. Bishop Meade thus describes my grandfather: "Mr. Ad- dison was remarkable for extreme mildness and simplicity, combined with extraordinary decision, when principle or duty was concerned. In the ordinary intercourse of life, so gentle and compliant that one might imagine a child could lead him. And yet when occasion demanded, not only im- movably firm, but heroically aggressive. In him I became acquainted with one of the best of men. He lived to a good old age, loving all men and beloved by all who knew him; to the last the happiest and most grateful of all the happy and grateful ones I have ever seen or known. Such was the man of God with whom it was my privilege to pass some happy and, I trust, not unprofitable months." It was in the year 1808 that Mr. Addison was called upon to endure a heartrending affliction in the death of his wife. My uncle gives the following account of this sad event. " In the year 1808 I was a student at St. John's College, An- napolis. In July of that year I received, by the hands of a servant, the following letter from my dear mother, the last she ever wrote: " ' I was very much delighted, my dear son, at the beauti- ful letter your uncle Ridout brought me. You are ex- tremely improved in your writing. Your request, my dear, to have your letter answered by Post could not be compHed with, as it came too late. With respect to my health, I can- not tell you exactly how I am ; the Doctor thinks I am better j^ome Btfe at Oron T^i^t 157 than I have been for a week past, but my strength is much decHncd since you saw me, and my appearance much aUered. My fever however is abated. You must not make your- self uneasy on my account; your father will send you money, and you can come directly the vacation commences, in Thursday's stage. I am a little tired with writing. I am sure you will excuse a longer letter. Papa and Grandmama desire their love.' "This letter was not sent in the manner intended. My mother became suddenly worse, and I was immediately summoned by a servant, leading a horse for me. I found her indeed greatly changed, and I could not refrain from bursting into tears. My aunt Murray and my dear grand- mama were with her, and other relatives and friends were also at Hart Park, sharing our sorrows and mingling their tears with ours. Just before my mother died she sent for my grandmother, who had retired to weep alone. On her approaching, my mother extended her hand, and taking hers, said: ' I am happy.' At that moment a little bird flew in and circled round the room, my mother following it with her eyes. It soon flew out of the window, and as it did so her spirit took its flight. She died on the 30th of July. It was a melancholy day in our house; every part of it was filled with mourners. My father was in his chamber alone, and sent for me. His heart was overflowing, and it was some time before he could give utterance to what he would say; but he grieved as the Christian grieves, with hope; for he looked upon death as only a brief separation, with the as- surance of reunion, where happiness would be perfect in Heaven. He was fortified, but I was weak, and he poured 158 One '^xin^m 'Xjeare il^o. into my stricken heart words of consolation. I loved my mother with great tenderness, and often her remembrance dimmed my eyes when years and years had passed away. "After my mother's death Hart Park was sadly changed; my grandmother, with my sister, removed to Baltimore. This was the breaking up of my father's establishment, and in the following March he moved to Georgetown and took charge of St. John's Church, D. C. During this interval his housekeeping appears to have received from him very little attention, and especially was he indifferent with regard to his table, which the servants were left to provide for as they saw fit. One day Dr. Balch came over the river to pay him a visit, and the two friends remained absorbed in conversation until dinner was announced. On entering the dining-room my grandfather was dismayed at beholding a very sorry meal set out for their entertainment; but quickly recovering from the shock, he said : ' Well, Balch, we have here a very poor dinner, it must be confessed; but it is good enough for a Christian, and too good for those that are not.' The din- ner passed ofif in pleasant conversation, but the next time Dr. Balch came he did not propose to dine there. When pressed to do so, he said: ' No, I thank you, Addison; not if it is one of your Christian dinners.' " Although Oxon Hill was afterwards sold, the graveyard remained in my grandfather's possession, and he continued always to make a yearly visit there (even after his blindness made a guide necessary), until in 1843 ^^^ removal to Balti- more rendered it impracticable. Among the very few papers which remain in his own writing, I find the following: ^ome Bife at "■^. 'HE particulars of this holy man's last illness and ^^) death are given in a letter to the Rev. Mr. Allen by his son, William ■Meade Addison. Mr. Allen had himself visited him a few days before his death and thus writes: " Mr. Addison was a man of the most unwavering faith. His confidence in God was the anchor of his soul. We shall never forget his beautiful and impressive words in a conversation with him just before his death. Speaking of the faith exhibited by one of our old bishops, he quoted the words: ' If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall remove mountains.' ' Yes,' said he, * as a grain of mustard seed,' how small the cause; ' Mountains of difficulty,' how wonderful the results!" The letter of Mr. Addison above referred to is in the fol- lowing words: Baltimore, Feb. 20th, 1848. Rev. and Dear Sir : As you have requested me, and I promised, I now give you some account of the last illness of my father. On the ^6e 6n^. 207 morning of October 19th, 1847, he had a very remarkable dream, which he regarded as an admonition of approaching death ; some weeks elapsed and we began to see that he was failing in strength — he was an early riser and generally in the breakfast room in advance of the hour for prayers; he was observed to get down later than usual, although he rose earlier than formerly, and at last it became necessary for his convenience to postpone the breakfast hour. He had now become so feeble that we were obliged to assist him from his knees, but he still preserved all his usual cheerfulness. In a few wrecks more he had given up family worship in the morning and remained in his own room, until the afternoon. His failure was now very rapid, though he had no pain and made no complaint. He knew his end was approaching, and advanced to meet it with a composure which showed he was about to enter a scene for which he was prepared. There was no hurry or excitement, no abstraction, no separation of himself from his family. He might be compared to one going on an important journey, to which he had been look- ing forward for a long time and for which he had made every preparation. There was no change in his manner indicating that he had anything to do which all his life he had not been doing; the task had not been neglected until the evening-time warned the laborer that the hours of work were drawing to a close and double exertions were to be made to repair the idleness of the morning. The morning had witnessed the sweat of his brow, noon saw him at his toil, and evening found him still calmly at his labor. What I wish to convey to you is the composure of mind of this man of God; while there was no ecstasy on the one hand, there 2o8 (^af^ev ©ufanj il^^ieom was no fear on the other, but such a seriousness of deport- ment as became a man who felt he was a pardoned sinner going to receive mercy, not reward, which well became the man who, when asked a few davs before his death if he relied on the merits of his own works for salvation, replied, " They are not worth a straw; my only hope is in the merits and blood of Christ, through whom alone (laying his hand on his heart) my peace is made with God." Several times in his last days he laid his hand on his heart, and said, " All is peace here with God and man." About twenty days before his death his illness took an acute form, and till his death he suffered agony the most intense, borne with resignation the most perfect; no mur- mur escaped his lips, not even a groan. Until the day pre- ceding his death he retained his faculties unimpaired. In- deed, towards the last his mind seemed to invigorate, and never shall I forget his deathbed sermon to a young friend a day or two before his death. He told her what was often mistaken for religion, but was not religion, and warned her against a mistake on that point. Then he told what religion was, its rewards and the proof that we have it. He then con- cluded with beseeching her to shun the fashionable amuse- ments of the time, as destructive to the growth of genuine piety. That was a day or two before his death, and proba- bly occupied fifteen or twenty minutes, and was pronounced with earnestness and with a strength of voice which surprised us all. His whole heart was in his discourse, and he did not cease till his voice died away to a whisper. I thought then I had never heard so much compressed in so small a com- pass. I think so still. I never stood by a Christian's death- ZU (Bnb. 209 bed till then, or heard a sermon from a dying man. The occasion can never be forgotten by any who were present. In reply to a question put by Dr. Wyatt, with a view to dis- cover if he was willing to depart, he answered, " Thy will be done, whether it be to live or die." On another occasion he replied the same thing, and said he did not permit himself to have any wish on the subject. His watchword through life was " Thy will be done," not merely that, but that " Thy will may be my will." He was suffering great pain, and the question was put, " Though you are willing to die, are you willing to live in your present suflferings for years?" There was no answer. I could not rest in doubt, and the ques- tion was repeated. After a short pause, in which he seemed to be questioning and cross-questioning his heart, he replied with equal, if not greater, emphasis than before, " In that case I still say ' Thy will be done.' " He repeatedly en- deavored to prepare us for the bereavement his death would occasion, by urging every consideration which could .recon- cile us to his departure, and with the utmost composure designated the spot which he had selected 40 years before for his burial. In the summer of 1847 ^e told me that as the time of his death approached he felt like the patriarchs of old, who had their bodies deposited where their forefathers slept, " and when I die," said he, " bury me at Oxon Hill." He was blind for twenty-one years, and being a student from his boyhood, you can imagine that his loss was the greater on that account. I never heard him murmur at his loss; on the contrary, he delighted in expatiating on the blessings that were left him. Only a few days before his death he repeatedly said, " I have had a hundred bright days for one 2IO (JOafter <3}uPan^ iltbieon. dark one." I never saw any display of temper but once, and that was years ag-o, and then the flash in his eye was Uke heaven's electricity — the lightning flash which we see on the horizon without rumbling or sound ; not a word was spoken, and in an instant all was quiet and serene. He was believed to be a man of great gentleness of temper. This was a mis- take; his temper was naturally quick. By grace he con- quered it. I should suppose he was naturally disposed to husband his means; by grace he threw with both hands his bread upon the water. It returned to him in this life ten- fold in the form of contentment and unfaltering reliance upon Providence, and it will return to him a thousandfold here- after. Though chastised by almost every form of affliction, I never saw him dejected; though blind and almost helpless, I never saw him idle. His labors were as regular as those of the plowman who goes to his work for his daily bread. The mornings were mostly spent in sacred reading; to hours thus consecrated he was indebted for his extensive know- ledge of Holy Scripture and of the poets who have sung on sacred themes. A few days before his death, the sole rem- nant of his fortune, consisting of a very few books, was dis-- tributed among his friends. They were, so to speak, the armor of a wornout warrior whose warfare was over. Here was the first Prayer Book he ever owned, then his first Testa- ment, there were Watts, and Bunyan, Milton, and his favorite Young, and a few Latin and Greek books — the companions of hours not devoted to sacred duties and pleasures. He breathed his last on Sunday morning, January 31st, 1848, in one and the same moment a suffering sinner here and a glorified saint there." At the request of the Rev. Dr. Wyatt, his remains were carried to Old St. Paul's when the services of the day were over, and laid in front of the chan- cel. At a late hour my uncle visited the church, and as he entered the dimly lighted aisle he saw the venerable figure of the Rector standing- beside the cofhn. He had come to bid a last farewell to his aged friend and brother. The next morning a sorrowful little company followed him to his last resting-place beside the wife of his youth. From a beautiful tribute to his memory, written by an unknown hand for the '* Southern Churchman," I copy the following: "According to his wish, he was buried at Oxon Hill, the home of his youth, where his ancestors have been laid to rest before him. There he now lies beneath the aged trees which had perhaps shaded his childish sports, almost within sound of the gentle, murmuring Potomac. If in that unseen country where the spirits of just men made perfect await their final reward, the tie of kindred blood unites still more closely souls already congenial in Christ, and is recog- nized, as we are glad to believe most probable, it is pleasant to think of a meeting between two so lovely and pleasant in their lives, who did so much good, each in his own appointed way, as Joseph Addison the writer and Walter Addison the Christian minister. " Behold fast streaming from the tree, His all-atoning blood : Is this the Infinite ? 'Tis He : My Saviour and my God. For me these pangs His soul assail, For me this death is borne, My sins gave sharpness to the nail, And pointed every thorn." 212 (Rafter ^xxhn^ ilbbteon. " Thus with a sincerity that none can doubt wrote Joseph Addison, 'the most poHshed essayist, the most scholarly critic, the most genial, delicate humorist of his time ' ; and the spirit of the verses we have quoted, breathing in lovely humility through the whole life of another Addison (who more than a century later reflected no less honor on the name) was such as must draw soul to soul, when, freed from bodily pain and toil, beyond the shores of Time, they meet and know each other." This pleasant association of the name of Joseph Addison with that of the subject of this little memoir suggests a com- parison between these two men, in most respects so unlike, and yet possessing some qualities in common. Great modesty and calmness, wifh a natural cheerfulness of temperament, were striking characteristics of them both. Though in a different measure, both were devout men, " full of love and awe of Him who made them, and of kindliness and goodwill to all His creatures." Both led beneficent lives, though the influence of one was almost world-wide, while that of the other was circumscribed by narrower bounds. They were both eminently successful men, for each attained in a remarkable degree the aim for which he lived; but the aims were different, and a more striking con- trast can scarcely be imagined than between the career of Joseph Addison, the brilliant man of the World, on whom society lavished its honors and rewards, for whom, says Thackeray, "all the laurels of Europe were scarcely sufifi- cient," and Walter Addison, the man of God, asking nothing of the World and receiving nothing, desiring neither its ad- miration nor its applause. Zealously and diligently fulfilling Z^c 6ni. 213 the duties of his holy calHng as long as he was permitted to exercise it, and then giving himself to the cultivation of those difficult and despised virtues of Patience, Humility, Meekness and Self-denial. Often misunderstood, and only thoroughly appreciated by those most nearly associated with him, yet it seems to me that this life, if we measure it by the noblest standard ever presented to human aspiration, was assuredly the nearest to that ideal. Perhaps no one would have been more ready to acknowledge this than Joseph Ad- dison himself in his later days. They had different gifts, and different missions were assigned to them. The one mingled freely with the world, accepting all that it had to offer, yet without being corrupted by it; on the con- trary, exerting a purifying influence on the society in which he moved and on the literature of his country, the effect of which is felt to-day wherever the English tongue is known. The other let go all that was his, that he might lay hold more firmly on eternal life, finding, according to our Lord's own words, ** Manifold more in this present life, and in the world to come life everlasting." He sought and attained the true " secret of a happy life," that life which is so near to us all and is yet found by so few, a secret which enabled him to say when the storms of a long life were ending, " I have had a hundred bright days for one dark one." " Bright," surely not with earthly brightness, but with the light of God's countenance shining upon him. With regret I feel that my task is ended ; but a friend has sent me a tribute to his worth by Bishop Whittingham, which was read before the Convention of 1848 and preserved by her. It will, I think, be an appropriate ending to this little memorial of a good man's life. 214 (JDaftcr ©ufanp il^bteon. Extract frcnn Bishop W hitting ham s address to the Convention, June ist, 1848. Brethren of the Clergy and Laity : " We meet not again this year as last with the number of those who labor in the word and doctrine undiminished. Thankfulness for that blessing is to be exchanged for a higher privilege — the recognition of mercy displayed to a venerable departed brother throughout a long life of faithful obedience, and in a consistent death, calmly peaceful, in the full assurance of a religious and holy life. Our late senior Presbyter, the Rev. Walter Dulany Addi- son, has been taken from us, full of days and of the fruits of faith. Among the first, if not the very first, admitted to Holy Orders by the first Bishop of this diocese, his continuance with us was a link of the present to the pasi which we could ill afford to lose. Although for some years past unable to be present with us in the body, he was never absent from us in spirit on these annually recurring occasions ot assemblage to take counsel together for the work of the Lord. His prayers co-operated with the efforts of his brethren to pre- serve the peace and purity of the household of faith, to keep men in the good old paths in which the fathers trod, and to bring to the blessed unity of the Spirit those whom ignor- ance, prejudice or error had led astray, or sin was making willing captives of the enemy. A more earnest, faithful laborer in the holy cause we never had, so long as he was permitted to fulfil the active duties of the ministry ; and when his Master suffered the infirmities of age to disqualify him for those toils, as warm a heart as ever, still beat true to the Zic enb. 215 claims of the Lord's own heritage on his love and care. Childlike simplicity of faith and love characterized him in all the many vicissitudes of his long career. He was eminently single-hearted. Long may his example of Godly sincerity and quietness be remembered among us and taken as a model. Long may the fragrance of his name continue to refresh us." FINIS. — -< o Q Q < O CO Q Q ■< O LJ o O UJ UJ q: UJ Q- 13 •< E o a- CO O) I- w O c o -h- 3> 4^ CO O C O 0) _ico E-" — • = c ♦^ Qi -C - — c ; CO »- I 0) O O O I CDOQ-O w I o ♦' ■ — ; -^ C crt "D ^ ♦- ' «3 — ct m ^ icSlMIIIII r c 0) X c o c c Q u «) E c 3 o c C o o ! >^ c o c 0) . . c/) 5 ^ O (U CD E CO <» m rt -^-t3 u M o TO +- 0) H If J3 E — =^> -J cj iz> o ^ . cn^ w "O O >«- - (M r^ O (0 C( nil CO ID E i E ^ :§ c o V) c - o c ® 3 3-U '^ E llco k. o c eS UJ x: ^ o - —J - VD *^ Q. CO c i C i ^ I c/) C6 E o — (J c « c u o -a E (D o 3 o CD > CO c 03 C c: CO QJ) I' CO >, u c o O 11 -o ♦^ ' ' 3 DC r^ 3 I "^ ' If) rt u U O Q X> l:Oc 1^ o Si. > O c o CO '-X2 -a -< >^ li « o o . CO >> (J^ CO 5X J5 3 Q lo CO r "* E . o c ^ o \- (O c CO X E J cr o 1 j= I — 3 E CO Q. «3 -sil CD c CO -it o CO I CO ^<5 J^ife. and tiii-K^s o^ Rev. WdHr^-r bRimEoouot. PHOTOCOPY """EB5;",aSl ^6-9/ (%%\ s^ 77