USA > Connecticut > Windham County > Historic Gleanings in Windham County, Connecticut > Part 13
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The above expressions were heard by Mr. George Gilbert, of Hebron, and noted down at the time and in the meeting-house."
And so we see our brilliant young minister, who had stood so high in position and favor, who had been championed by Judge Swift and other distinguished advocates, wandering about the State as a mere " babbler " and driveler, undoubtedly injuring by in- temperance and indecency the very cause of religious liberty that he was trying to advance-his abilities and opportunities wasted ; his life a wreck and beacon- warning. He is believed to have died in 1806-the year following this parting glimpse.
VIII. OUR FIRST WOMAN ARTIST.
First in Connecticut, and in point of time one of the first women in this country, to gain public recog- nition as an artist, was Miss Anne Hall, of Pomfret and New York. She was only preceded and equaled as far as we can ascertain by Misses Anna C. and Sarah M. Peale, granddaughters of the distinguished artist, Charles Wilson Peale. There may have been local women artists in some of our large towns, but none that gained more than a provincial reputation, or were honored like Miss Hall by election to mem- bership in The National Academy of Design.
Miss Anne Hall was no untrained phenomenon. Like the Peale sisters she inherited artistic tenden- cies. Her father, Dr. Jonathan Hall, of Pomfret, and his father, had been lovers of art, and, unable to gratify their own aspirations, were eager to foster their manifestation in little Anne. Figures cut from paper or moulded in wax at a very early age showed great merit. A box of paints from China enabled her to gratify her love for coloring and reproduce birds, flowers, fruit, and whatever caught her childish fancy.
When a very young girl she accompanied an elder
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sister to Newport, the home of the Mumfords, her mother's family. Here she was permitted to take a few lessons in oil painting and drawing from Mr. Samuel King, the teacher of Malbone and Washing- ton Allston. Mr. King also instructed her in the art of applying color to ivory. Returning to her Pom- fret home she practiced diligently in these various lines, and had the privilege of further instruction in New York city under the skillful teaching of Alex- ander Robinson, secretary of the Academy of Fine Arts. With such opportunities for cultivating native genius it is no wonder that Miss Hall achieved so high a rank among the artists of her time. Her first success was in copying from the old masters. Like Hawthorne's Hilda she possessed that sympathetic insight which enabled her to catch and reproduce the very soul of the original. Her brother, Charles H. Hall, of New York, supplied her with good pictures to copy. Copies of Guido's pictures were executed with a force and glow of coloring that won praise from experienced critics.
In character and person Miss Hall was exceptionally lovely-a bright and shining light in that cultured society which distinguished Pomfret in the early part of the century. A foreign visitor at one of her fash- ionable assemblies gave verdict-"That Miss Hall's dress and demeanor would have done credit to any court in Europe." She had the literary accomplish-
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ments of her time, some of her poems long living in remembrance. But above all she shone in beauty of character-" her life a lofty striving after the highest ideal, which she exemplified in every act and word." Her ready kindness and sympathy, her willingness to devote her artistic skill to memorials of departed friends, was very noteworthy. Cherub faces of chil- dren long passed from earth are still held as priceless treasures in many households.
But it was not till after her permanent removal to New York city, about 1820, that Miss Hall's fame be- came fully established, especially in her chosen line of miniature painting on ivory. Dunlap characterized her work as of the first order, combining exquisite ideality of design with beauty of coloring. He notes especially her groups of children, "composed with the taste and skill of a master, and the delicacy which the female character can infuse into the works of beauty beyond the reach of man." Some of these groups received the rare compliment of being sent abroad to be copied in enamel, and thus made inde- structible. Miss Hall excelled in rich coloring, and in those finishing touches that add so much charm- flowers in the hands of her women, wreaths twined about her cherub children, were marvels of grace and beauty. Among many distinguished subjects, she had the honor of painting one of the especial celeb- rities of the time-Garafilia Mohalbi. This lovely
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Greek girl was taken captive during the war with the Turks, and ransomed in 1827 by a Boston merchant and brought to this country. It was this picture ex- hibited at the National Academy that brought Miss Hall her election to membership, and the engraved copy was widely known and admired. As market value in our practical days is often made a test of ar- tistic merit, it may be noted that some of Miss Hall's groups were appraised at five hundred dollars, which was considered an extraordinary price for a native artist to receive.
Unaffected in character by her distinguished suc- cess, Miss Hall remained modest and retiring, never seeking praise or notoriety. Struggling artists from her native country gained ready access to her studio, and found her ready with sympathy and counsel. Our late artist, Mr. Sawyer, spoke of her with enthu- siastic admiration, as one far in advance of the ordi- nary range of womanly attainment. She died at the home of her sister, Mrs. Henry Ward, New York, in 1863, having just passed her seventieth year. In the marvelous development of modern art, especially among women, this first woman artist in our State should not be overlooked, and it is hoped that a fit- ting memorial may sometime be prepared, with re- productions of those faces and groups which won such fame and favor.
IX.
JAPHETH IN SEARCH OF HIS FORE- FATHERS.
It is not so many years since the great majority of New England families outside of Boston were content to trace a vague descent from one of "three brothers," who might have come out of the Ark, or the May- flower, and then a genealogical boom swept through the land, flooding it with family trees, charts, tablets, genealogies, and histories. Various genealogie bu- reaus conducted by professional experts aid in the prosecution of such researches, and testify to the wide extent of the newly-awakened interest. With such intelligent and sympathetic aid the inquirer can hardly fail to exhume some eligible Pilgrim or Puritan of approximate family name-a vigorous and fruit- ful root from which he might safely predicate a goodly family tree. But as he attempts to establish connection between his own particular branch and this primitive root, and trace out the various ramifi- cations, difficulties multiply. If some eight or ten branches shoot off into as many States, or, still worse, if the off-shoots of two or three kindred roots com-
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mingle in one town, he will soon be involved in inex- tricable jangle and confusion. Or if he be so fortu- nate as to trace his own lineage straight back to some ancient patriarch, there will be other branches missing, boughs lopped off, mysterious growths en- grafted. The genealogist is sure to be confronted sooner or later with some obdurate sphinx of a prob- lem, whose solution defies his utmost effort. The perplexities of Captain Marryat's hero in search of his lost father were light in comparison with those of our genealogical Japheths, searching through this great continent for their buried grandfathers and grandmothers. The friendly bureaus above referred to often fail in such emergencies. They can furnish upon demand any number of reputable forefathers. It is for you to prove whether some particular speci- men belongs to yourself, or to descendants of the other "two brothers." Left to himself the baffled Japheth pursues his weary search-exploring town and church records, unearthing family registers and letters, deciphering effaced epitaphs, afflicting the souls of far-off relatives by frantic efforts to make them bring to mind what they never knew or had long forgotten. Earnest appeals from some of these persistent searchers enlisted me in genealogical re- search. A dabbler in local history, it was easy for me to find and impart desired information. The ex- uberant and altogether disproportionate gratitude
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called out by very trifling service in this line awoke deep commiseration :
" I've heard of hearts unkind, kinds deeds With coldness still returning ; Alas ! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning."
How many snubs must have been endured to make a little common courtesy so thank-worthy. Having had occasion to solicit similar favors from strangers, I answered every such appeal just as I liked my own answered, and in following this golden rule worked out a large experience which I would fain impart to other wayworn Japheths still groping for lost grand- sires.
And, first, I would premise for your comfort and encouragement, that the object of your search is in all probability attainable. Those exasperating old ancestors and relatives, so persistently evading inqui- sition, did in very truth live and walk upon this earth and doubtless left behind them some memorial of their own birth and marriage, and those of their pu- tative offspring. Your "missing link " lurks in some furtive corner. That "pivotal fact " on which depends your connection with the parent trunk, or the com- pleteness and symmetry of the whole structure, is safely hoarded by some obscure collateral, all uncon- scious of the value of the latent treasure. In my
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own experience the particular item establishing the foundation fact of numerous investigations accrued through the agency of a single individual, it might almost seem providentially preserved to meet the foreordained recipient of his fateful message.
Such was the Staytum case, involving a question of locality. Descendants of the patriarch Samson insisted that he settled at an early date on "the mile square " east of the river in First Parish, which they still held in possession ; but I found him an officer in Second Parish, occupying a farm between two rivers bounded by lines which human ingenuity could not have made more crooked. It was perfectly evident that the two farms could not have been identical, and that a resident of First Parish would not have been a church officer in the Second ; but the Staytums re- fused to yield an ell of their " mile square," or budge an inch from their position in First Parish. A happy chance opened communication with a ninety-year-old descendant in a neighboring State, and from him came positive evidence that the original Samson did first buy and occupy an interval farm in Second Par- ish, and his son Samson was the purchaser and first occupant of the "mile square." But if twenty sur- plus years had not been granted to the respected Hezekiah my exhaustive arguments would have been but vain words and fruitless Jeremiades. The gen- ealogist may settle it in his mind as a primal axiom,
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that one person and most probably only one on the face of the earth can give him definite information upon any controverted point. One chance in twelve or thirteen hundred million ! But his inquiries are necessarily restricted to the Caucasian race, and finally narrow down to the sixty millions of the United States, and perhaps a few experts across the water. We might assume farther limitation by sec- tional probabilities but for the wide dispersion of descendants of early Pilgrims. Information con- cerning descendants of old Massachusetts and Con- necticut families would be naturally sought in the vicinity of former places of residence, but you are quite as likely to find it west of the Rockies. Facts vainly sought in many native sources strayed back to me unsought from the Ohio and Mississippi val- leys. I was long baffled in pursuit of a well-known Revolutionary veteran, very prominent at Bunker Hill and in subsequent service. Minute and per- sistent research in his own and neighboring towns failed to furnish any trace of him after the close of the war, and I finally numbered him among its un- recorded victims, buried like Moses in an unknown sepulchre, and then inadvertently stumbled upon his grave in the heart of the Empire State. A chance allusion from a casual correspondent led to the dis- covery of his early emigration and subsequent career.
[The preceding hints, written some years since, and
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published in substance in the " New York Independ- ent," require some modification to suit present con- ditions. During these years interest in genealogical researches has increased in geometrical proportion. Especially since the organization of the innumerable societies of "Dames," "Daughters," and "Sons," all requiring straight lines of descent, have these inqui- ries multiplied, and facilities for tracing these lines have increased in proportion. I should now discrimi- nate between roots and links. The former are to be sought near the original settlements and landing- places. It is the connecting links that are often so evasive, and may be lighted upon in most unlikely places, and my " one man " theory should be restricted to inquiries of this nature.]
These opportune chances and unforeseen discover- ies give a peculiar fascination to genealogical pur- suit, rekindling in fossil sires the fires of youthful enthusiasm. That which to the uninitiated is a sense- less groping among dead men's bones involves the tantalizing delight of gold-digging and treasure- hunting. Those thoughtless youngsters who jeer at genealogical enthusiasts might well envy the excite- ments and surprises of their adventurous quest. True, indeed, they are called to suffer many trials and disappointments. Nuggets are not found every day. Many a placer is dug over without disclosing one golden glimmer. The proverbial "hunting for a needle in a hay-mow " often typifies the experience
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of the genealogist; yet, if the needle carry a thread the chance is not so hopeless. The slightest clew promptly followed ; the tiniest atom of real gold-dust may lead the way to marvelous discovery. A mere shred of a chance recovered my long-sought Missins. A once prominent family, occupying a large tract of land on a public thoroughfare, with a flourishing saw- mill, a tavern, and roads leading to various settle- ments-not only had every vestige of them disap- peared, but the site they had occupied could not be identified. The oldest inhabitant had only heard of them by vague tradition, and could give no satisfac- tory conjecture as to their place of habitation. I spent days puzzling over the map for it. I set up that saw-mill on every water privilege within the territory, but try it where I would some condition would be lacking ; mill, tavern, highway, and by- ways could not be made to fit in with appropriate surroundings. Chancing at length to hear of an " old Widow Missin," visiting in a neighboring town, I hastened to call upon her. Like most women she knew nothing whatever of "Mr. Missins'" family and antecedents, but referred me to " Cousin Nimrod," in some out-of-the-way neighborhood, as one who might possibly give me some information. Starting next day in pursuit of this mythical place and personage, I drove some six miles southward for farther instruc- tions, and then switched off into an old road winding
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northeastward through pastures of scrub-oak and huckleberry bushes, toward a bleak hill-range. Having a well developed organ of what phrenologists call " Locality," it was extremely harrowing to reach a given point by describing the two long sides of a very acute triangle, but when, after a wearisome pull I reached the summit of the hill, all minor annoy- ances vanished. For, oh, dear reader, I saw it all at a glance. In this round-about style I had solved my problem. Clear as a mathematical demonstration it opened before me-the mill-stream and tavern-site in the valley, the great highway winding round the base of the hill, the old bridle-path eastward, and the " trod-out path" behind me, that had led to this happy outlook. Left behind by march of civilization and change of business centres, enlocked by hill and river, the lonely valley had evaded search till opened by the pass-name of the one man who held the key to its mysteries. The testimony of the faithful old Nimrod confirmed local intuitions. A quaint old hermit, forgotten by the world, alone he guarded the Missin records and traditions. In this secluded nook, once populous and full of life, his family had lived and flourished for more than a hundred years, and he alone could tell of their past glories, of the mill and the great tavern, and seven gambrel-roofed houses built for the seven sons of the first settler, and the briary grave-yard where name and race were buried,
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and then sent me home rejoicing by a cross-cut across the base of my triangle.
Equally slight was the chance that restored to his alma mater a certain shadowy James H. Goner, un- heard of after his graduation early in the present century. I take great pride in this achievement as being myself the medium for recovering the trail and enstarring the lost graduate among his fellows. The dim impression of a surviving classmate, and a cas- ual entry in some old class-book suggested Mytown as his probable birthplace. Letters of inquiry were sent to minister, town clerk, postmaster, &c., but as the family had removed from town long before the remembrance of any of these authorities no light was gained from them. Catching at a straw, the col- lege biographer next addressed the embryo town historian, who with the rashness of inexperience es- sayed the quest. "It is of no use," sighed the ma- ternal counselor so helpful in previous inquiries. "I took special note in my young days of every young man in town that was privileged with going to college, and never was there a Goner among them." Nevertheless a careful examination of the faded church records detected a James Horner Goner bap- tized just in time for college entrance at the speci- fied date. James H! First middle name on church record! That two Goner families should have in- dulged in such extravagance when double names
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were so uncommon was extremely doubtful, but ad- mitting that the vanished collegiate was represented in this record what chance was there of unraveling his subsequent career, as his family migrated west- ward early in his college course and had long passed out of knowledge. Well, it did look very dark for a time, but gradually in the maternal consciousness faint echoes were awakened of long-gone talk about a "Goner wood-lot " left behind unsold till after the death of the family head, when it was bought up by "your Uncle Abishai," who had no end of trouble hunting up the scattered heirs before he could se- cure a clear title. Uncle Abishai's papers and the probate records furnished the missing link and evi- dence, enabling us to trace the fugitive to West Ten- nessee, where he kept school, practiced law, married and died, leaving a widow and several children to receive his share of the Cioner wood-lot.
[Another problem relating to this same Goner fam- ily has but recently attained solution. A somewhat indefinite marriage record represented the head of a large and respectable family as marrying "Susanna Goner alias Fuller"-a way of putting it that was a source of great perplexity to the present generation of descendants. Whether she was a Goner by birth or adoption could not be settled, and a " goner" she remained for many years. But the increasing de- mand for Eastern ancestors at length brought inqui- ries from the long-gone Goners, and with them the
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information that our mysterious Susanna was indeed a born Goner, aunt of the missing college graduate, and that she had married for her first husband a certain - Fuller. And here came another puzzle. Chil- dren by the first husband had also gone West and were in communication with their Goner kindred, but not one of the descendants knew the first name of their grandmother's husband. The Fullers were a noted family, straight from Plymouth Rock, and they were very anxious to establish connection. I did the best I could for them, but could find no record of Susanna's first marriage. There were a number of Fuller boys baptized just about the date needed, but which was the happy man it was impossible to tell. But chance at length leading me to consult an earlier probate record, there I found the settlement of the estate of Susanna's father, and among the receipts recorded was one signed by Susanna and her Fuller husband-first name and all complete. It was very curious. She might have selected for aught we know -Joseph, James, Samuel, Abel, John, Peter-but with remarkable prescience the chosen name that for . so many years baffled inquiry was simply-Job-and more than Job's patience had been expended in trac- ing it.]
The importance of immediately following up the faintest probability cannot be too strongly urged. If you lose your one chance what hope is left for you ? " We have these treasures in earthern vessels." Lives and memories hang on brittle threads. Especially if you hear of an elderly person likely to impart de-
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sirable intelligence, go for him at once. So many unforeseen casualties may occur. I remember once hastening as soon as I thought decency would permit, to extract some needful item from a bereaved widower who, it was feared, would not long survive the loss of his life's companion, and the poor old soul had already skipped off with a frisky young wife upon a wedding journey. A few days delay would have left my Jay problem unsolved. Nothing surprised me more than to find a problem in this numerous and somewhat common-place family. The Jays were as plenty in town as robins and blackbirds, filling a whole district and burying-ground. A Nathaniel Jay bought up a large tract of land in that section and joined the church in due form at an early date, and I supposed in a single tramp through district and burying-ground I could pick up all family details that were needed. But behold, on the contrary, not a chatterer among them could give the least account of his ancestry, or had any knowledge or tradition of the first immigrant, Nathaniel. To be sure they could all prattle most volubly about Grandfather Jay, the popular landlord of the famous " Half-way Tav- ern," but he might have been Melchisedek himself for ought they knew of his origin, and so the matter rested, to my great annoyance, till Mrs. Blue Jay came chirping up to me one Sunday intermission (we did not go to the same church and met by the merest accident).
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"It's not Sunday talk," she whispered mysteriously, " but you know what you asked my husband, and he has found out that Cousin Jotham out by 'The Brass Ball' knows more about it than all the rest of us, and after haying he is going to see him and write it off for you."
"He need not trouble himself," I replied with my usual briskness, "I'll see him myself to-morrow."
That a horse could have been beguiled out of the hay-fields on such an errand was extremely doubtful, but by rare good luck a friend needed conveyance to an out-of-the-way station in that vicinity. It was the loveliest of midsummer days. Passing over the old witch-ground, so famous in local tradition, what marvel that we were beset and hindered on our way. The wailing spectres, phantom reapers, and headless ghosts of other days had indeed forever vanished; no magic deer wiled us into elusive chase over the hill-sides-but wild roses in the freshness of " young bud and bloom " essayed their utmost witchery ; clus- ters of rare, golden lilies beckoned into woodland hollows ; seductive strawberries gleamed out from uncut mowing, and over-bearing raspberry bushes fairly flung their luscious fruit into our mouths and baskets. Bob-o-links challenged a race over the fra- grant meadows; thickets rang with the carols of cheery chewinks, and birds of strange plumage and alien notes enticed as if with the very song of the si-
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rens. Heroically shutting eyes and ears against these blandishments we reached the station, unscathed, in due season, whence I pursued my way alone to the far- thest extremity of Jaydom, passing many a home nest, and the great old tavern where Washington took breakfast "That's no such rarity," you
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