USA > Connecticut > Litchfield County > A biographical history of the county of Litchfield, Connecticut: comprising biographical sketches of distinguished natives and residents of the county; together with complete lists of the judges of the county court, justices of the quorum, county commissioners, judges of probate, sheriffs, senators, &c. from the organization of the county to the present time > Part 24
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In conclusion, Mr. Speaker, I offer the following resolutions :
Resolved, That this House has heard, with deep sensibility, the annunciation of the death of Hon. JOHN M. HOLLEY, a member from the State of New York.
Resolved, That this House tenders to the relatives of the deceased the expression of its smypathy on this affecting event, and, as a testi- mony of respect for the memory of the deceased, the members and officers of the House will go into mourning by wearing crape on the left arm for thirty days.
Resolved, That, as a further mark of respect for the memory of the deceased, this House do now adjourn.
The Hon. D. S. Dickinson announced the death of Mr. Holley in the Senate, and paid a feeling and appropriate tribute to his memory. Both Houses adjourned.
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MRS. LAURA M. THURSTON.
MRS. THURSTON was the daughter of Mr. Earl P. Hawley, and was born in Norfolk, December, 1812. Her parents being in moderate circumstances, her early advantages for education were such only as were afforded by the common district school. On arriving at maturer years, however, she found means to enter Mr. J. P. Brace's "Female Seminary," in Hartford, where she prose- cuted her studies with unusual diligence and success, and secured the marked approbation of the Principal and teachers. After leaving this Institution, she was for a few years engaged as a teacher in New Milford and Philadelphia, and subsequently became an assistant in Brace's Seminary. Here she remained until 1837, when, upon Mr. Brace's recommendation, she left Connecticut to take charge of the Academy at New Albany, in the State of Indiana. In 1839 she was married to Mr. Franklin Thurston, a merchant of New Albany. She was at this time a frequent con- tributor to the Western papers and periodicals, usually over the signature of " VIOLA,"-and soon won for herself the reputation of being one of the best female writers at the West. But in the midst of her growing fame, and ere her dreams of earthly happi- ness had scarcely begun to be realized, death marked her for his victim! Yet, when he came to execute his dread commission, he found her not unprepared. In the bloom of youth and health she had consecrated herself to GOD, and the hopes she had long cher- ished did not desert her as she descended "the dark valley."
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When told that she must die, her joyful exclamation was, "Is it possible I shall so soon be in Heaven!" She expired on the 21st of July, 1842.
In the autumn of 1843 the author of this volume accompanied a literary friend to the "Childhood's Home" of MRS. THURSTON. Her early residence is situated about three miles to the north-east of the village of Norfolk, Litchfield county, Connecticut-in a quiet, secluded nook, shut out, as it were, from the great world; in short, just such a place as a poet might choose for the undisturbed indul- gence of his day-dreams. On our way thither, we paused for a moment over the foundations of the now demolished school-house, where, in early childhood, my friend had been the school-companion of the future poetess; and many pleasant reminiscences of those halcyon days were called to mind, and related by him, as we pur- sued our way down the green lane, toward the cottage which had been her home from infancy. The dwelling is a small, venerable looking, wood-colored building, of but a single story, located about half a mile from the main road, on a path which has the appear- ance of being but seldom traveled. Her father still resides there, and appears to take a pride in the growing fame of his daughter. He pointed out to us the spot on which she was born, about two miles distant, near the borders of a small and picturesque lake- from whence he removed to his present residence, during her first year. He also showed us several of her poems, and gave us the materials from which the annexed brief sketch of her history is drawn.
The following beautiful poem, descriptive of the home and scenes of her childhood, (the frequent perusal of which first induced in us the desire to visit them,) is preserved in the Appendix to Gris- wold's " Poets and Poetry of America." It was written after her removal and settlement in the West, and but a short time previous to her death.
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THE GREEN HILLS OF MY FATHER LAND.
The green hills of my father-land, In dreams still greet my view ; I see again the wave-girt strand, The ocean-depth of blue; The sky, the glorious sky, outspread Above their calm repose ; The river o'er its rocky bed, Still singing as it flows! The stillness of the Sabbath-hours, When men go up to pray, The sun-light resting on the flowers,
The birds that sing among the bowers, Through all the summer day !
Land of my birth !- mine early home! Once more thine airs I breathe! I see thy proud hills tower above- Thy green vales sleep beneath ; Thy groves, thy rocks, thy murmuring rills, All rise before mine eyes; The dawn of morning on thy hills, Thy gorgeous sun-set skies; Thy forest, from whose deep recess A thousand streams have birth, Gladdening the lonely wilderness, And filling the green silentness With melody and mirth.
I wonder if my home would seem As lovely as of yore ! I wonder if the mountain stream Goes singing by the door !
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And if the flowers still bloom as fair, And if the woodbines climb, As when I used to train them there In the dear olden time! I wonder if the birds still sing Upon the garden tree, As sweetly as in that sweet spring, Whose golden memories gently bring So many dreams to me.
I know that there hath been a change- A change o'er hall and hearth- Faces and footsteps new and strange, About my place of birth. The heavens above are still as bright As in the years gone by, But vanished in the beacon-light Which cheered my morning sky ! And hill, and vale, and wooded glen, And rock, and murmuring stream, Which wore such glorious beauty then, Would seem, should I return again, The record of a dream.
I mourn not for my childhood's hours, Since in the far-off West, 'Neath summer skies and greener bowers, My heart hath found its rest. I mourn not for the hills and streams, Which chained my steps so long ; But still I see them in my dream, And hail them in my song! And often by the hearth-fires blaze, When winter eves shall come, We'll sit and talk of other days, And sing the well-remembered lays, Of my green mountain home!
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Who that has been a sojourner in a land of strangers, can fail to appreciate the beauty and pathos of these exquisite lines ? Thousands of hearts have felt all that the writer has here portrayed, but who could have expressed those feelings so well ? At such times, how naturally the " winged thoughts " fly back to our " fatherland," -reviving the scenes hallowed by early associations-and re-uni- ting the long-severed links in the chain of youthful companionship! And how natural it is in our search after happiness, to turn from the joys of the past, to the joys of the future! The beautiful and quiet picture of domestic felicity which the writer has drawn in the concluding stanzas, will be admired by every kindred mind; and few will read it without a heart-felt sigh that her gifted spirit must so soon have taken its departure from earth, even though we rejoice in the full assurance that she has found "a home of rest" in a purer and better world.
As our eyes rested upon the scenes which had once been so dear to her, and which she was wont to look back upon with feel- ings of interest from her new home in the far west, it was sad to reflect upon the changes which a few years had wrought, not only " o'er hall and hearth," but in the absence of many of those sim- ple ornaments which. during her residence there, had helped to make up the attractions of the spot. The "woodbines," (which then almost covered the dwelling,) soon missed the fostering care of her who
"Used to train them there In the dear olden time."
And nothing is now to be seen of them, save a few straggling, half- decayed vines. The flowers which once adorned the door-way and garden-walks, no longer attract the admiration of the passer by. Yet still
-"The mountain stream Goes singing by the door."
And now, as then-
"The birds still sing
Upon the garden tree,"
though she is no longer there to listen to their melody.
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The poems which follow will serve as specimens of her peculiar talents.
ON CROSSING THE ALLEGANIES. The broad, the bright, the glorious West, Is spread before me now ! Where the gray mists of morning rest Beneath yon mountain's brow! The bound is past, the goal is won; The region of the setting sun Is open to my view : Land of the valiant and the free -
My own green mountain land - to thee, And thine, a long adieu !
I hail thee, Valley of the West, For what thou yet shalt be! I hail thee for the hopes that rest Upon thy destiny !
Here, from this mountain height, I see Thy bright waves floating to the sea, Thine emerald fields outspread; And feel that, in the book of fame, Proudly shall thy recorded name, In later days be read.
Yet, while I gaze upon thee now, All glorious as thou art, A cloud is resting on my brow, A weight upon my heart. To me, in all thy youthful pride, Thou a land of cares untried, Of untold hopes and fears; Thou art-yet not for thee I grieve ;. But, for the far-off land I leave, I look on thee with tears.
Oh! brightly, brightly, glow thy skies In Summer's sunny hours ! 42
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The green earth seems a paradise, Arrayed in Summer flowers ! But oh! there is a land afar, Whose skies to me are brighter far, Along the Atlantic shore! For eyes beneath their radiant shrine, In kindlier glances answered mine: Can these their light restore ?
Upon the lofty bound I stand, That parts the East and West ; Before me, lies a fairy land : Behind, a home of rest! Here, Hope her wild enchantment flings, Portrays all bright and lovely things, My footsteps to allure ; But there, in Memory's light, I see All that was once most dear to me - My young heart's cynosure!
THE PATHS OF LIFE.
An Address to a Class of Girls about leaving School. in Indiana.
Go forth! the world is very wide, And many paths before ye lie, Devious, and dangerous, and untried : Go forth, with wary eye! Go! with a heart by grief unbowed! Go! ere a shadow, or a cloud, Hath dimmed the laughing sky! But, Jest your wandering footsteps stray, Choose ye the straight, the narrow way. Go forth! the world is very fair, Through the dim distance as ye gaze ; And mark, in long perspective, there, The scenes of coming days.
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Orbs of bright radiance gem the sky, And fields of glorious beauty lie Beneath their orient rays; Yet, ere their altered light grow dim, Seek ye the Star of Bethlehem!
Go forth! within your distant homes There are fond hearts that mourn your stay ; There are sweet voices bid ye come; Go! ye must hence, away ! No more within the woodland bowers Your hands may wreathe the Summer flowers, No more your footsteps straý ; To hail the hearth, and grove, and glen, Oh! when will ye return again!
Not when the Summer leaves shall fade, As now they fade from shrub and tree, When Autumn winds, through grove and glades Make mournful melody ; The long, bright, silent, Autumn days, The sunset, with its glorious blaze, These shall return - but ye, Though Time may all beside restore, Ye may come back to us no more.
Go! ye have dreamed a fairy dream, Of cloudless skies and fadeless flowers, Of days whose sunny lapse shall seem A fete mid festal bowers ! But of the change, the fear, the strife, The gathering clouds, the storms of life, The blight of Autumn showers, Ye have no vision -these must be Unveiled by stern reality !
Ye yet must wake, (for Time and Care Have ever wandered side by side,)
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To find earth false, as well as fair, And weary too, as wide. Ye yet must wake, to find the glow Hath faded from the things below, The glory and the pride ! To bind the willow on the brow, Wreathed with the laurel garland now.
But wherefore shall I break the spell That makes the Future seem so bright? Why to the young glad spirit tell Of withering and blight ? 'T were better, when the meteor dies, A steadier, holier light shall rise, Cheering the gloomy night; A light when others fade away, Still shining on to perfect day.
Go, then ! and when no more are seen, The faces that ye now behold, When years, long years, shall intervene, Sadly and darkly told ; When time, with stealthy hand, shall trace His mystic lines on every face, Oh, may his touch unfold The promise of that better part, The unfading Spring-time of the heart!
PARTING HYMN,
Sung st the close of the Anniversary Exercises of the New Albany Theological Seminary.
Brethren, we are parting now, Here perchance to meet no more : Well may sorrow cloud each brow, That another dream is o'er.
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Life is fraught with changeful dreams, Ne'er to-morrow as to day ; Scarce we catch their transient gleams, Ere they melt and fade away.
But, upon the brow of night, See the Morning Star arise; With unchanging, holy light Gilding all the Eastern skies. Bethlehem's Star! of yore it blazed, Gleaming on Judea's brow, While the wondering Magi gazed; Brethren, let it guide us now.
Guide us over land and sea, Where the tribes in darkness mourn, Where no Gospel jubilce Bids the ransomed ones return ;
Or, beneath our own blue skies, Where our green savannahs spread, Let us bid that Star arise, And its beams of healing shed.
Shall we shrink from pain and strife, While our Captain leads the way ? Shall we, for the love of life, Cast a Saviour's love away ? Rather gird his armor on, Fight the battles of the Lord, Till the victory be won, And we gain our long reward.
Oh! may many a radiant gem, Souls redeemed by us from woe, Sparkle in the diadem That our Leader shall bestow. Change and trial here may come; But no grief may haunt the breast,
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When we reach our heavenly home, Find our everlasting rest.
Broken is our household band, Hushed a while our evening hymn : But there is a better land, Where no tears the eye shall dim : There is heard no farewell tone, On that bright and peaceful shore; There no parting grief is known, For they meet to part no more.
ELEGIAC STANZAS.
She sleepeth: and the Summer breezes, sighing, Shedding the green leaves on the fountain's breast, And the soft murmur of the stream, replying Unto her melody, break not their rest,
I know thy hearth is lonely: that thy dwelling No more may echo to that loved one's tread; I know too well thy widowed heart is swelling With silent grief: yet weep not for the dead.
She yet shall waken; on that morning glorious When day shall evermore displace the night ; O'er time, and care, and change, and death victorious, A holy seraph in the land of light.
Yes, she shall waken; not to earthly sorrow, Not to the blight of care, the thrill of pain; Wake to the day that ne'er shall know a morrow, To life that may not yield to Death again.
She rests in peace: for her forbear thy weeping: Thou soon shalt meet her in the world on high: The care-worn form in yonder grave is sleeping, But the freed spirit lives beyond the sky.
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FRANCIS BACON.
FRANCIS BACON, the third son of ASA BACON, Esq., was born in Litchfield, in January, 1820, and graduated at Yale Col- lege in 1838. He pursued his professional studies with the Hon. O. S. Seymour, was admitted to the Bar of Litchfield county in 1840, and at once commenced the practice of the law in his native village. He was soon ranked among the most able and popular advocates in our courts. In 1842, he removed to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and formed a legal co-partnership with the Hon. Thaddeus Stevens, one of the most successful lawyers in that state. Here he gradually won for himself an honorable reputation, and his growing fame and extended practice were regarded with just pride by his friends in Connecticut. He regarded his location as per- manent, but, upon the death of his only remaining brother, E. C. Bacon, Esq., he was persuaded to return to Litchfield, that he might be near his vencrable parents, and solace their declining years.
Being once more established amid the cherished scenes and friends of his youth, where he had long been a favorite, his success at the bar and in political life was almost unprecedented. In 1845, he was appointed Clerk of the Probate Court for the District of Litchfield. Having risen to the rank of Colonel of the Regiment with which he was connected, in 1846 he was elected Brigadier General, but declined the office. Upon the re-organization of the militia system of Connecticut, by which the entire militia of the state was embraced in one division, he was elected Major General
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by the Legislature. In 1847 and 1848, he was the whig candi- date for Representative from Litchfield. During two successive sessions of the Legislature, those of 1847 and 1848, he was chosen First Clerk of the House of Representatives ; and in the spring of 1849, he was elected to the Senate by an unparalleled plurality of votes. Much to his credit, he received the suffrages of many of the best men among his political opponents, who appreciated his talents and personal worth beyond mere party expediency. In the discharge of legislative duties he was sincere and ardent, but ever courteous in his manners ; while no political asperity embittered the intercourse of private life : hence he enjoyed the respect and kind regard of all. In the honorable Senate he was its youngest member, and yet his quick perception of truth and character, his retentive memory, his ready and discriminating judgment, his practical tact, his flowing eloquence, and his conservative course, secured for him an influence much beyond his years-an influence which was much felt in several important acts of legislation.
General Bacon died on the 16th of September, 1849, in the 30th year of his age. His funeral was attended on the afternoon of the Wednesday following his decease, drew together a very large collection of people from Litchfield and the adjacent towns, and many members of the bar and other prominent gentlemen from a distance. The silence and solemnity which seemed to pervade all hearts, bore convincing testimony to the respect and affection with which the entire community regarded the deceased, and the bereavement which all felt they had sustained in his untimely departure. Among the strangers present, were the venerable ex-Chief Justice Williams, and Judges Waite and Storrs, all of the Supreme Court; the Hon. D. S. Boardman, of New Milford, late Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas; the Right Rev. T. C. Brownell, D. D., Charles Chapman, Esq., Francis Fellows, Esq. Col. Thomas H. Seymour, (since Governor,) and Quarter-Master General Ely, of Hartford ; Adjutant-General Shelton, of South- bury ; Brigadier-General King, of Sharon; Hon. William W.
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Boardman, of New Haven ; Professor Larned, of Yale College ; Professor Stewart, of Trinity College, &c. There were also pres- ent, several clegymen of various denominations, and members of the bar, from the towns in the vicinity.
At the late residence of the deceased, the funeral services were commenced with a prayer by the Rev. Mr. Swan, of the Congre- gational Church. At half-past two o'clock, the remains were taken to St. Michael's Church, accompanied by the mourners, citizens, &c. As the procession entered, a voluntary of solemn music was played upon the organ by Miss Julia H. Beers. The funeral ser- vice was read by the Rector, the Rev. Dr. Fuller, who then preached from the text, " He being dead yet speaketh," in which he portrayed the character of the deceased, and most feelingly urged the solemn admonitions which his death awakened, upon all present. Appropriate prayers were then read by Bishop Brownell.
The services being over, the procession formed, and moved to the East Burying Ground, in the following order : -
Clergy. Citizens on foot. Members of Societies of Odd Fellows. Members of the Bar. Military, Litchfield Union Blues, and New Milford Rifle Company.
Pall
Bearers. General Shelton,
General King,
Colonel Ely,
Col. Thomas H. Seymour,
G. H. Hollister, Esq.
HEARSE.
E. B. Webster, Esq.
G. F. Davis, Esq.
C. B. Smith, Esq.
Colonel R. Battell,
E. C. Buel, Esq.
Relatives in Carriages.
Judges of the Supreme Court, and Citizens in Carriages.
At the Burying Ground, the solemn burial service of the Epis- copal Church was read by the Rev. Dr. Fuller, and the remains of the deceased were committed to the silent dust, near the splen-
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did monument recently erected to the memory of his brothers, who died abroad.
We conclude this sketch with two or three extracts from the Funeral Sermon of the Rev. Dr. Fuller.
SPEECH is the utterance of thought, the audible expression of the emotions of the soul. The distinguished individual whose sudden departure from our midst we all so deeply deplore, and whose mortal remains we are about to convey to their last resting-place, was a man of whom every one that knew him must say, "He speaketh." He did not merely live and move, but he spake, and exerted an influence. He was not the silent and passive person who floats through life without being observed and respected, but at all times and in all places he caused his voice to be heard, and his talents, opinions, and character to be felt and appreciated. This was true even in his boyhood, passed amidst the lovely scenes of this delightful region, when he showed the same characteristics that marked his maturer years: intelligence, memory, activity, energy, decision, generosity, courage. This was the case in his youthful days, while he was engaged in study ; for his class- mates, both at school and in college, will never forget the mental and moral qualities which attached them to himself. His voice was heard and his influence felt during his brief but successful legal, military and political career, in which he proved himself a sagacious and eloquent counselor and advocate, an energetic officer and efficient disciplinarian, and a diligent and patriotic legislator and statesman. In the social and family circle, his words of intelligence and kindness, of neighborly intercourse, of filial affection, and of domestic love, will never fade from the memories of his bereaved and afflicted friends and relatives. In the house of prayer his lips were vocal with the prescribed expres- sions of confession and suplication, of thanksgiving and praise; while in his dying hour, he professed with decided and fervent voice, his firm belief in all the articles of the Christian faith, and sealed his con- victions of the truth of our heaven-born religion, by requesting to be baptized into the adorable name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
But "while our lamented fellow-citizen and Christian brother was thus speaking and acting in a wide and rapidly extending sphere of honor and usefulness, an inscrutible Providence had appointed him to an early grave. A fever, which is the bane of our salubrious New England, fastened with stealthy approach upon his athletic frame, baff- ling all medical skill, and mocking the tears and prayers of distressed neighbors and relatives, till now, the last of three manly and promis- ing brothers, the only children of their aged and stricken parents, the dutiful son, their pride and hope, their support and staff, the affection- ate husband, the beloved companion, the useful citizen, the rising law-
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yer, the respec ed general, the honorable senator, lies before us, silent, speechless, unconscious, motionless, dead !
But, "he being dead yet speaketh;" not indeed with the living voice, for we shall no more hear his energetic tones, either at the fire- side, in professional consultation, in secret fraternity, at the bar, on the bristling parade, on the tented field, or in the halls of legislation ; but he though dead speaketh to us by his example; and he speaketh to us as an affecting witness to the vanity of worldly pursuits: while our Saviour Christ, who, though once dead, is alive for evermore, also speaketh to us by this mournful event as a loud and earnest, admon- isher, to seek with fervent zeal the great salvation which he offers to all who love and obey him.
Thus fast and thickly did honors cluster upon a man, who had not yet completed his thirtieth year. Nor was this the apparent summit of his political eminence, since it was the universal conviction, not only among his friends, but likewise among his opponents, that there was no office in the gift of his native State, which he would not sooner or later occupy. Honored as a lawyer in his own county, and through- out the Commonwealth as a soldier and a statesman, he was inquired after by the citizens of one of our largest cities, as a civilian, whom they desired to have established in their midst; so that had his life been spared, and he desired the change, he might have soon ceased to be a resident of his beloved Litchfield.
But when thus on the high road to distinction and honor, he is stopped in his ascending path by the unsparing hand of death. What a comment upon this world's transitoriness ! what an affecting witness is this dead advocate, general, and politician, thus cut down in the prime of his days, and in the vigor of his strength, to the vanity of earthly pursuits! His eminence, what is it? A heap of dust, which the wind of death has unexpectedly scattered! His honors, where are they now ? Faded flowers, to be buried with him in the lowly and forgotten grave! His future wealth, so carefully preserved for his future benefit by his doating parents, of what use is it to him in his present state? Of no more service than is his perishing body to his departed spirit, which, if he died in the Lord, now rejoices to be freed from the burden of the flesh. Thus affectingly does our dead son and brother bear witness to the emptiness and worthlessness of all earthly objects : and may the Spirit of God write this impressive testimony indelibly upon the hearts of all who are acquainted with this distress- ing providence which has invested this whole community with sadness and mourning !
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