USA > Connecticut > Litchfield County > Litchfield > More chronicles of a pioneer school, from 1792 to 1833, being added history on the Litchfield Female Academy kept by Miss Sarah Pierce and her nephew, John Pierce Brace > Part 11
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1 His poems in Litchfield Historical Society. - E. N. V.
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Jack - the name of Mother Hoys' little boy.
" Lamp" Eliza Lampson, who was from somewhere near Utica. She and Erastus Lord were mates. Her subsequent history I do not know.
" Margaret Center" was a very large clumsy formed girl.
I entered College Oct. 1809; the poetry after that date was written in College.
Mary Starkweather was the daughter of William Starkweather Esq. with whom I boarded. She boarded at Litchfield in my room after- ward. She had been a year at school at Litchfield, boarding with Isaac Baldwin Esq. the father of Charles, who was two classes before me.
Mary was a good girl; at that period rather rough in her manners but of good understanding. She was older than I, or at least went in an older circle. She married Homer Bartlett Esq. who resides in Lowell and is a man of some note. I saw her at Commencement 1849 and found her not as much altered as I should have supposed.
Satire XVI
The occasion of this Satire was the rustication of four of my class for playing cards, Benjamin, Howell, Dickinson & Moseley. They denied it, and as the Tutor could not find the cards, they persisted in the denial & were rusticated. The characters of all my classmates can be found in the History of my College Life.
"Smoking pipes" were universally followed instead of using segars.
" Prophet Hopkin" - Hopkin Judd, then unpopular in the class had told them that they would be discovered if they persisted in playing. He was called " the prophet" thru college.
Pres. Fitch was always partial to the religious scholars.
Russell, who kept the recitation room, was noted for having liquor.
James C. Allen's room was the place where the religious fellows held prayer meetings.
Rev. Mr. Packard of Shelburne.
Rev. James Beach of Winsted who died quite an old man not two years ago.
Howell was drowned at Shelburne before the close of his rustica- tion. William D. Howell was the leader of all mischief in our class; a fellow of great energy, tact, and knowledge of human nature. He never appeared to study and yet always recited well. I found, after- ward, that he studied late at night when all were in bed. His influence on the class was an unfortunate one. He was drowned just before the opening of the third term, Sophomore year. His place as second
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Sophomore Exhibitor from our Society was conferred on me, a great honor for one who entered as Sophomore.
Caleb Huston came to college for the purpose of subsequently preaching. He was a Democrat, and as we graduated immediately after the declaration of war in 1812, the next I heard of him was his being employed by government at the West, to purchase Gunpowder. I have never heard of him since. The Triennial Catalogue of 1850 does not put "at Williams College", the Sophomores and Freshmen occupy one building, and, at some distance the Juniors and Seniors another. Hence, these two classes are more intimate. During my Sophomore year, there was a fellow, I believe from Albany, in the Freshman class, by the name of Kilian Van Rensellar Lansingh, who intruded into those circles of gallantry in which the Sophomores moved and by interfering with some of my flirtations excited my indignation, which I here let off.
"Caroline" - is Caroline A. Dewey, daughter of Hon. Daniel Dewey, member of Congress, judge & one of the leading men of Berkshire County.
I may as well say here at once, as it will appear very evident in the coming pages, that I was very susceptible of the "tender passion". According to the vow made in 1806, when the girls in the Fanny Good- win frolic, taunted me with the impossibility of a boy of my looks etc ever creating love, I flirted whenever & wherever I could. These flirtations had nothing of heart to them, in many instances.
Sept. 20, 1850. SATIRE XVIII
The subject of this satire was the daughter of Dr. Benton of Catskill, at school at Litchfield.
Along thro' this and the succeeding year, the Itch, in all its virulence got into the school and was with difficulty check'd. The girls were sent when attack'd to a solitary house on Chestnut Hill (Mrs. Harts) to be "medicated". In 1812, they called it, "going into sweet retire- ment"! I presume Miss Benton had been to the Lazaretto and had been "discharg'd cured."
June 12, 1811.
The Sailor's Grave. Beyond the reach of mortal eye, Where angry tempests roar, A sailor's bones neglected lie, Upon the sea beat shore: And dark and sad is ocean's wave, That beats upon the Sailor's grave.
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The sea-gulls scream is heard alone,
To soothe his sound repose; O'er his remains, no earth is thrown; His eyes no kindred close: Dark and unlovely is the wave That beats upon the Sailor's grave.
High are the rocks which build his tomb, Which chance not art supplies; While, on their top, in funeral gloom, The wind-wav'd pine trees rise: And hoarse below is ocean's wave, That howls its requiem o'er his grave.
This sailor once in life's vain scene, With merit play'd his part; No youth so lively on the green, Few had a better heart: But, vigor, goodness could not save This Sailor from his watery grave.
A very good piece, simple, natural, and touching. The union of the descriptive and sentimental was in accordance with the course of my then poetical reading.
This was the first piece of mine that appeared in print, and may be considered then as an era in my poetical career. I sent this piece with several others, to my friend Judd at Northampton in 1813, and he sent it to the Boston Centinel where it made its appearance.
"To a blushing, modest, beautiful girl by the name of Charlotte Rose - flung into the school house.
To Whom it May Apply. Of all the flowers, the garden yields; Of all the plants that deck the field, I love but one; a sweeter flower Ne'er bloom'd in hedge, or blush'd in bower: Unseen, amidst its leaves it grows, Nor, tulip-like, its beauties shows, But blushing hangs its lovely face, That no rude eye its charms may trace.
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Hail, modest Rose, thou art the flower, To bloom around my summer bower, There from the ground mayst raise thy head, And to the sun, thy beauties spread: There, thou mayst live, from danger free, Or seen, or lov'd, by none but me; While thro' th' admiring fields is borne, Thy praise, a Rose without a thorn.
The literary merit of this piece is very good. The versification is easy and shows that I had been reading Scott, whose poems were now appearing. I begin, likewise, to indulge in poetical figures. The article was much admired in Litchfield, and gave me much reputation among the students. I was then, home, in the winter vacation of Senior year.
Charlotte Matilda Rose became from this time a flame of mine and a very interesting flirtation was carried on between us, the rest of the winter. After she went home in the Spring vacation, it is difficult to tell which forgot each other the soonest. She was a pretty doll like looking girl, with blue eyes & cherry cheeks. She married a man by the name of Hawley, and has been dead some years.
JOHN P. BRACE
HISTORY OF MY POETRY. . VOL. II
INTRODUCTION
This volume commences at about the period when fancy and imag- ination take the place of satire; when I begin to perceive that the language of poetry consists in something else beyond mere rhyme, or the adherence to the rules of measure. Figurative language, especially personifications and comparisons begin, now, to find place in my poetry. They made their appearance in my prose compositions some time before I employed them in my rhymes, and their gradual progress can be seen during part of the last volume and the beginning of the 1. There is but one more stage to be noted, & that is the use of strong language that of passion whether literal or figurative.
Saturday 11 Sept. 23, 1850 From 4P. J. 7
Referring to the sleighride - Jan - 1812 -
To day, six or seven of Aunts girls went to the Farms for a ride in a cutter, with a lame horse. I expect something will happen. C.V.K. C.M. R.M.B. J.McL.&M.G. were the girls.
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Sunday 12
"Terrible times in the "Jarsies". Last night about eight, there was a message came to me to go down to the Farms for Cornelia, Charlotte and Juliana who had staid there. Their horse had tired out, so that Nancy Starkweather, Mary Griswold and Mary Bulkeley who would not stay, came up, partly on foot, and partly in the cutter leaving the other girls at a tavern under the protection of Alexander McLachlan (a little boy) Father would not let me go. To-day I hear a vast many different stories that I do not know which to believe. Some say they wanted to stay & some say they did not. After meeting they came up.
Jan. 1812
Fragments of a poem on the " Sleighride". FRAGMENT 1.
1 With steady course, the rolling year
Brought on December dark and drear; Instead of mild and gentle rain, The snow now cover'd all the plain; And the cold wind, thro' Litchfield street,
Upon the houseless wanderer beat. December, too, had slowly rolle'd away,
But, still, its ice and snow in Litchfield lay.
2 Now o'er the world, on Friday eve, Did night her sable mantle heave, And all was dark without; When, in their rooms, soon after tea, Miss Pierce's girls, from study free, Had all assembled round the stove, To mend their clothes, or talk of love. Or chew their nails, or pout.
3 Oh! now, my muse, assistance bring; Grant me to speak of every thing That filled up the room; Paint to my view the scattered shoes, The table stained with different hues; Their bonnets on the broom:
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The looking glass, where secretly,
Beauty often stands herself to see;
The washbowl, plac'd upon a chair;
The trunks all scattered, here & there, Contrive'd to pay a double debt, To hold their clothes, and form their seat;
The coals all stre'd upon the floor; The debt - paper near the door. etc.
" Bradley's" - a well known public house about five miles from Litchfield, kept by Aaron Bradley, a great place of resort for sleigh- riders. The house is now occupied by a Mr. Coe as a tavern but the business that formerly centered at that corner has been transferred a mile or two nearer to Bantam Falls.
Nancy - Nancy Starkweather, from Williamstown. She is now living unmarried, with some of her sisters.
The three girls who staid at the Farms were Cornelia Van Kleeck, Juliana M. Lachlan, and Charlotte M. Rose. I find only mention made of two.
Cornelia Van Kleeck was from Poughkeepsie, a sister of Sally Ann she had a very bright beautiful face. Her eyes were black & sparkling, and the whole expression of the face that of good natured fun. She loved mischief however and was an imprudent girl. She was a great flirt. I was a very good friend of hers, and in her confidence. I cor- responded with her for some time. She came to Litchfield Nov. 1810 and stayed two years. She married a New York man by the name of Somervandyke who proved an inefficient man. Cornelia became an energetic woman & supported her family by taking boarders. She lives now in Brooklyn, N. Y. with a married daughter. Her husband, I believe is dead. I have not seen her for many years.
Juliana Mclachlan was a very beautiful girl from New York. She came to school in 1809 and left May 1813. The character is well drawn 5P.J. Appendix (1812) She married Samuel Goodwin Esq. of New York who was killed by the explosion of the large cannon on board the Princeton in 1844. Her daughter married His Accidency John Tyler Providential President of the United States. I do not know that she is living. I corresponded with her for some time. My attach- ment to Charlotte Rose did not blind me to her silliness, & I give her some good advice here.
Jane Shedden was the Music Mistress there, and quite the "arbiter morum" among the girls.
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Jan. 1812
Cornelia Van Kleeck's Song before starting. Miss Shedden, she preaches that maidenly pride Forbids us to think of a frolicsome ride; That young, modest girls will be never exempt From censure, at any such reckless attempt. But haste, boy, harness the sled on! Hurrah for a ride, & a fig for Miss Shedden.
"Meetings" and conferences were the grand times in Litchfield for gallantry.
Song of Charlotte Rose, at the Tavern. An inn, this night, must be my bed; My lullaby the traveller's tread, And I shall lose my gingerbread, Far, far, from love & thee, Johnny, To morrow, too, the bell will ring That calls us up to pray & sing, To me it will no pleasure bring, It cannot reach me here, Johnny.
I may not, dare not, fancy now, The grief that scowls thy wrinkled brow: I dare not e'en imagine how You'll scold & fret, my Johnny. Ah! fond regrets are all I know. Why did I tempt the treacherous snow; And leave my house, and you, my beau, My lov'd collegian, Johnny.
Re Poem "Attempts" - Sept 13, 1812.
A feeble attempt made to commemorate an attempted flirtation with Mary Clarke, which never amounted to anything. Mary was from Albany and was in school many years. She had a large figure, large fine features, blue eyes, rather pretty dimples and a fine com- plexion. She was an excellent girl, amiable, upright, and good tem- pered. She failed in energy, as most of those persons do whose large bodies outgrow their minds. She is known in "Traits of Ill Nature" by the name of Mary Amiable. She became a respectable scholar and an estimable woman. She was a good friend of mine thro' her whole school life. She is now living with her second husband, her name I do not know.
Dr. Bartholomew Ichobod is name belonging to my fictitious life, like Roger De Coverly to Addison. The name had its origin thus:
THE EARLIEST KNOWN DIPLOMA OF THE SCHOOL, ENGRAVED ON WHITE SATIN This was evidently cut out, sewed under a large piece of satin, and decorated with embroidery and black lace by Charlotte Sheldon, daughter of Dr. Sheldon. Her diary is in the first Chronicles
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Judd, Stearns and myself first term Senior year formed a plan to write a satirical paper as one often issued in Yale College. As we could not have it printed, we intended to write it & leave the copies in dif- ferent parts of the town. It was to be called the Briar. It fell thru' however. When we were thinking of a name for the Editor, Judd proposed Dr. Bartholomew Ichobod. I assumed the name afterward & used it for a long time. He was the author of "Traits of Ill Nature". All that I say of the Briar in my journal is in cipher.
Huldah Maria Ensign who was my flame, summer 1813 but they do not apply to her. She was a thin pale faced girl, looking out of health. She had a large hazel eye with a mild sensible expression, beautiful auburn hair of the real purple tinge. Her face when animated was beautiful.
Page 51
In the summer of 1813, I was very industrious. I copied law lec- tures for Judge Reeve to pay for my law tuition of the winter before; I read every morning at Judge Holme's office, in which I was, and copied law papers for him. I went into school a number of hours in the day to assist Aunt Pierce & in the evening write my journal & letters etc. When I was ready for bed, the last thing I did was to scratch off some "Night Thoughts" upon whatever occupied my mind.
Parody on the "Vale of Avoca" - designed for Huldah Maria Ensign. There is not in all Litchfield, a damsel so fair
As that girl with the dark eyes & bright auburn hair; The last lingering pulsation of life shall depart,
Ere that maiden's image shall fade from my heart.
But it was not that beauty had moulded her face, Where the white rose, and red rose, had mingled their grace Twas not the soft glance of a wild beaming eye;
Twas something more lovely than youth's roseate dye.
Twas that virtue and feeling, commingling with truth, Had added new graces to beauty and youth, And show'd how the charms of the person increase, When virtue and truth with the heart are at peace.
Sweet blossom of Litchfield, how calmly my life, Would glide down in its channel, with thee for a wife; Then the storms, that once lowed'd, forever would cease, And our hearts, like thy virtues, be mingled in peace.
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Re Huldah Maria Ensign in the above.
It is a very good description of her character. I thought of her seriously for a wife, but was too young to offer myself. I visited her often, after she left school, but either wanted courage or opportunity to "pop the question". I find, I accuse her of caprice in my journal, but it is more probable the caprice was my own.
There are none of my old flames that I look back to with so much esteem as Huldah Maria. She was an excellent girl. The parody was written when I was teaching in Northampton, where I staid from Oct. 1813 to April 1814.
Re "Vale of Avoca"
I say, at the close bequeathed to Northampton. The reason is, that some of my scholars found the parody among my loose papers, in my school drawer, and altered it to "There is not in New England", and "sweet flower of New England". It was circulated "all round town" as intended for Eliza Henchaw one of the "upper crust" of N-n. It is said that thirty copies were taken of it, and I abundantly blamed for daring to think even of one of the nobility. When the truth was known their mighty rage abated.
Sept. 30, 1850.
In the spring (1814) I returned to Litchfield, and commenced teach- ing there in earnest. My time, out of school, was fully occupied in reviewing all my old studies, the higher branches of mathematics, phil- osophy. etc I wrote very extended lectures on various topics for the school, which may be found in the first, second and third volumes of my Miscellanies extending from 1814 to 1817. One long prose story called Javan 1 was written the next year.
I now find my pieces of every description uniformly copied and bound in Miscellanies. The old Compendium of Misc. papers seems to have included nothing but the monthly record of credit marks. These were destroyed in 1832 when I came to Hartford; & I am afraid many fragments with them. The same was true in 1815. I wrote nothing but prose. The revival in school that year occupied my feel- ings. In 1814, I commenced the exciting study of Minerology which was then fashionable which led to the other branches of Natural History, with the hope of making myself a Professor. If I had ad- hered to poetry & the Belles Lettres, & concentrated my energies on fine writing, I might have been famous - but it was ordered otherwise, and it is too late now to launch.
I was, now, (in 1818) twenty three years old. My mind had matured by the stern discipline of study thro which I had proceeded, since, my return from Northampton, in April 1814, I had at once, determined
1 There is no record of this. - E. N. V.
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upon making myself a teacher & studied accordingly. I cannot here stop to detail the steps I took to change the whole character of female education. It belongs to a more universal biography, this work being only intended to elucidate the character of my poetry. Suffice it to say, that I was one of the first, if not the very first to introduce a more scientific course in female education. I had, for this purpose, to prepare lectures on Philosophy, Rhetoric, Logic, the philosophical principles of Grammar etc, all of which may be found in my Mis- cellanies, there being no good educational text books then, and there- fore I had no time for poetry or fine writing, except those prose compositions which I read to the school as models in composition. By the spring of 1816, the labor of these preparations was over, and imagination & sensibility began to resume their sway.
In the meantime, a change had come over my own character. The foolish indulgence of morbid melancholy had become a habit & was almost periodical. I knew its folly; I knew that its causes were imag- inary. I knew full well that I could resist its influence, and yet, I went into it with my eyes open, & indulged in all its excesses. It might have terminated in confirmed insanity. It did alienate many very valuable friends, & broke off an interesting engagement with a talented and beautiful girl. I was cured of it, in the winter of 1819 by the efforts of Lucy Porter 1 and Catherine Beecher. I mention these facts, as showing the light in which most of the subsequent pieces for 1816, 7&8 are to be seen.
My flirtations continued, but they frequently were merged in "attachments". My character was made up of susceptibility, ex- citability, romance, & imagination. The earlier slights I had received had given me a strong and enduring fondness "of being loved", and of not being happy unless I was surrounded by those who loved me. As my children grew up, that same feeling was confined to them, and in their society my happiness was too exclusively sought. Now 2 I am left a lonely weed rotting on the shore of the ocean of eternity, amid the wrecks of everything I valued in life strewed around me. But to return - In this period of my life, personal charms had not such influence over me as in those I have already commented upon. "Warmth of feeling and singleness of heart" were the idols I then worshipped in the female character.
The literary character of this period of my poetry must speak for itself, and will be developed as I proceed. Byron, Moore, Scot & Southey were the models at first, especially Byron. The influence of the Pope school had entirely ceased either in the
1 Who later became his wife. - E. N. V.
2 1850.
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satirical turn of mind it had created, or the smoothness it had given to my numbers.
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I was in the habit commenced this year & continued of giving my copy of the poetry I wrote to some one of my favorite scholars, on condition that she copied it in the form necessary to be bound up in my Miscellanies. This piece was copied by Abby Marion Smith of Albany, who was three years at school to me, and boarded in my father's family. I was exceedingly interested in her. She was a girl of first rate talents, whose education I entirely conducted and of whom I have always felt justly proud. She was an excellent friend of mine. She was small in figure, with a keen black eye, & rosy cheek. Her face was thin & nose long.
July 13, 1816.
I've seen old Hudson's swelling pride, As on he rush'd to meet the ocean; No storms then lash'd his solemn tide, No dashing waves made wild commotion; While towering cliffs and tall trees, waving green, Frown'd on the flood, the guardians of the scene.
I've heard, when wandering on his bank, The tide's low voice, while onwards creeping; While many a bird the proud stream drank; Or sooth'd with songs the seamen sleeping. While, far as eye could reach, the gilt wave lay, Bright as a virtuous life to memory's ray.
I've seen Connecticut's fair wave, Still, as he went, thro' rich fields smiling, While the tall corn its bright green gave, The river's darker hue beguiling. Fair are thy fields, thy skies for ever shine; "Nor drinks the sea a lovelier wave than thine."
But still there is a dearer stream; Tho', on its breast, no white sails bearing, Tho' rough its rocks, and cold its beam, And dark the leaves its trees are wearing: For in that stream's white foam, when life was young, I, thoughtless, play'd, nor dreamt of future wrong.
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Stream of my youth! dear is thy foam, Dear as the friends who, with me, roving, Have mark'd thy rocks with thot's of home, And given all tho hast worth loving; Dear are the pleasures I have felt by you. Pure as the tear drops of the morning dew.
See p. 11
This piece was copied by Henrietta Esther Sperry of Owego, N. Y. She was an excellent girl, upright, intelligent, & faithful in all her duties. She married a printer by the name of Leonard in Owego, who, If I remember rightly, was subsequently a member of Congress. She was old when in school. I have heard nothing of her for many years.
The (following) piece is respectable. It has been printed several times. It was among those pieces that I had printed in the Catskill Recorder under the signature of "Traveller" when Edwin Croswell Esq. was its editor. Why I should write so much as if I was old & away from home, I cannot tell. One would think they were written in my old age.
July 27, 1816
I saw a flower; its gentle stem Supported many a budding gem; Soft were the hues that mingled there, Like rainbow tints, as rich & fair; So sweet its bloom, so soft its hue, That nightingales might stoop to woo. 'Twas genial winds, in kindness, blew; But should there breathe a sterner gale, Its leaves would droop, its stem would fail.
I saw a light: it blaz'd in air: Methought 'twas not a meteor's glare; So mild the tint that struck the eye; So, twilight like, the mellow'd sky; It seemed to be a constant light, To cheer alike the day and night; To hold, while sun & moon should last, While skies were clear, or were o'er cast; To soothe me all life's journey thro', And gild the close with radiant hue: But 'twas a flash, a meteor flame; Dark is the heart o'er which it came.
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