Class /^/g/_L Rook f^;^y Copyright N° 1 COFmiGHT DEPOSIT. COL. JOHN ADDISON. From an original portrait in the possession of ihe family. One WfuribYt^ ^eare JI30 OR THE Life and Times OF THE REV. Walter Dulany Addison 1 769-1848 CO.MPILi:i) FROM ORIGINAL PAl'KRS IX I'OSSKSSION OF THE FAMILY. BY HIS GRANDDAUGHTER, ELIZABETH HESSELIUS MURRAY GEO. W. JACOBS & CO. 1895 ^j. ^ ^' ^u < hil OtUU Copyright, 1895, kv E. H. Murray, PBE88 OF THE FRIEDENWALD CO. BALTIMORE, MD. % TO MY PASTOR AND FRIEND, THE REV. THOMAS J. PACKARD, THIS LITTLE BOOK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED. (preface* GcJitle Reader : It has been suggested to vie that my book requires a Preface^ or rather a xvord of apology that /, zvho am not an author, should offer to yoii 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 luith the slenderest of threads. When I confided my MSS some time ago to a literary friend, he said that it luas " very interesting material,'' and a distinguished publisher used the same expression, assuring me, hoivever, that my " material " was " valuable" and worthy of being published. Evidently this is only the " material" of a book, yet if you find in it but a small portion of the profit, as ivell as of the enjoyment, it lias afforded me, you zvill not ask for an apology. 3n^robuc^ton* NE hundred years ago, August 1793, the Rev, u.-Si^Jfy Walter Dulany Addison was ordained at Easton, -p.^ Maryland, by the Right Rev. Thomas J. Claggelt. w* I propose to celebrate the centennial of this event, so important in the life of the subject of it — and not without its infiuence 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 th.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- ing 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 5w^*^o^w<^^^on. 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 ni}' 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 imique 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 puipose 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 letters, 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. 5nfroiucfton. ix to rescue from oblivion, and preserve for his descendants, the history of a life 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 1)y 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 grov^^h, 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. Jnfrobucfion. 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. ConUnte PART I. CHAPTER I. Annapolis in Colonial Times. — Luxurious Habits oi- the Inhabitants. — First Newspapek. — First Theatre in the Colonies. — The Severn and the Spa. — Letter froivJ Rebecca Uulany to her Sisters. — Her Marriage to Thomas Addison 2 CHAPTER II. 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 elsewheri:. — Rev. Mr. Boucher's Verses. — Let iers 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 Conttnte. CHAPTER IV. Death of Walter Dulany. — 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 VL 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 VII. 17S4-1789. 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 VHI. 1789-1793. Mrs. Hesselius. — "The Family Picture." — Education of Young Ladies. — Correspondence between Major Dulany and his Daughier. — The French Officers. — A Double Makriagk at Primrose 92 ConUntfi. XV CHAPTER IX. 1793-1799- Ordination. — Bishop Ci.aggett. — State of the Church.— Opposition of his Rector. — War against Fashionable Amusements.— Appointed Rector of Queen Anne's Parish. — Resigns 'O? 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 andMr. 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. — Colomal 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 15° 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 Lav Reader 163 xvi iC^onttnts. 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. — Uis- couragements. — his resignation, and the 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. 1824-1S30. Threatened Blindness. — Loss of P'ortune. — 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 1S30-1847. 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 Whitiingham's Tri- bute TO his Memory 207 Biet of 3^fu6^rafione Portrait of Col. John Addison. Frontispiece. Old Annapolis 3 The Old Dulany Mansion 17 DuLANY Arms quartered with Smith, from the Tomb of Mrs. Daniel Dulany . . . ■ ^9 Portrait of Mrs. Hesselius . . . . 83 Charlotte and Betsy Hesselius . . . -9^ Primrose 9^ OxoN Hill Manor House 107 St. John's, Broad Creek . . . . . -131 Stairway AT OxoN Hill . * . . . .150 Portrait of Rev. Walter Dulany Addison . . 163 St. John's, Georgetown i73 Addison Arms, from an old Tankard . . • 195 Genealogical Chart . . . . • .216 ^AXt I CHAPTER I. Annapolis : The Birthplace of Walter DuLANY Addison. IfO more striking relic of the Old Colonial Time remains to us than the little city of Annapolis. With regard to this name, we find in an old memoir of Dr. Thos. Bray that "in 1696 the Secretary of Maryland Sir Thomas Lawrence with Mr. Bray, waited on the Princess Ann of Denmark in behalf of the Provinces to request her gracious acceptance of the Gov- ernors and Countrys dutiful Respects in having denominated the Metropolis of the Province there but lately built, from her Royal Highness's name Annapolis, and the latter being soon after favored with a noble benefaction from the same Royal hand toward his Libraries in America he dedicated the Premier Library in those Parts & which has the choicest kind belonging to it to the value of 40o£ to Her Glorious ]\Iemory by the title of the Annapolitan Library." Some of these old volumes are still preserv^ed in the library of old St. John's College there. 4 One ^utt^veb "Pcare cEgo. At the date when our history commences, 1769, Anna- polis was at the height of its supremacy as the social and political center of the colony. As it was the birthplace of the subject of this memoir, a glance at the state of its society at that time may not be considered irrelevant. The Abbe Robin, writing from Annapolis, says: "The furniture of the houses here is of the costliest description. They have light and elegant carriages, which are drawn by fine horses. The coachmen are slaves, and are richly dressed. There appears to be more wealth and luxury in Annapolis than in any other city which I have visited in this country, and the extravagance of the women here surpasses that of our Provinces. A French hair-dresser is a man of great importance. A lady here pays hers a thousand crowns a year. This little city, which is at the mouth of the Severn, contains several handsome edifices. The State House is the finest in this country. There is also a theatre. The climate is the most delightful possible." About this period a Jockey Club was instituted, and many gentlemen imported horses of high reputation at great ex- pense from England. Annapolis never acquired a large population or any great degree of commercial importance; but long before the American Revolution it was conspicuous as the seat of wealth and fashion. The English Surveyor of Customs, speaking of Anna- polis (when writing to a friend in England about 1770), says: " I am persuaded that there is not a town in England of the same size which can boast a greater number of fashionable and handsome women, and were I not satisfied to the con- dtlnnapoPte. 5 trary, I should suppose the majority of the belles had pos- sessed every advantage of a familiar intercourse with the manners of your great metropolis. In this remote region the phantom pleasure is pursued with as much avidity as on your side of the Atlantic, and certainly with as much gratifi- cation. Our races, just concluded, continued four days, and surprising as it may appear, I assure you there are few meet- ings in England better attended or where more capital horses are exhibited." The Drama began its life here, and under the encourage- ment of the Royal Governor it attained a high state of per- fection. The " Tuesday Club," too, had a wide reputation and counted among its members distinguished men from all parts of the country. In a very interesting article in the "Architectural Record" of March, 1892, Mr. Randall gives us a charming account of its old colonial mansions. He says of if: " Certainly, in the length and breadth of the land it was impossible to find such another miniature city, with all the habits and tastes that were common among the aristocracy of England." It was the seat of a wealthy government, and as such con- gregated around it many whose literarj' attainments emi- nently qualified them for society. Its thought led the mind of the province. Its Gazette, which was published in 1745, was the first newspaper ever published in this country. The first theatre in the country was built here, in the year 1750, by permission of his Excellency the Governor, Benjamin Tasker. The Gazette mentions that on " February 7th, a company of comedians arrived in town, and continued their performances until May following. Among the plays were 6 One lEfun^vz^ 'X)ear6 dtlgo. ' The Orphans,' ' Romeo and JuHet,' ' The Jew of Venice/ &c." The ballroom and race-course added to the reputation of the inhabitants for gaiety. In fact, the luxurious habits, elegant accomplishments and profuse hospitality of the An- napolitans were proverbial throughout the colonies. Judg- ing them by their habitations, they were a people of refined and cultivated tastes. Their houses are large, well and solidly built; the brickwork, cornices and other details are finely finished; but they are externally without architectural pre- tension. On entering them, however, we find large and beautifully proportioned rooms, with doors of solid ma- hogany and sometimes with handles of silver, and very ele- gant mantelpieces and stairways. The main room is usually the dining-room, proving that a large hospitality was a leading purpose in their construction. These dining-rooms usually open into the gardens, which were very beautiful and kept with great care and skill. After dinner it was the custom of the guests to stroll out under the shade of the trees and enjoy the beauties of the garden and of the river till tea, which was often served under the trees. There still remain in some of the old families pieces of ancient silver of very elegant design and workmanship. In Dr. Ridout's family I have seen an exquisite piece which was used as an ornament for the center of the table ; also old Dresden china worthy to have graced the collection of Queen Mary at Hampton Court. In the matter of coaches, however, the love of display cropped out and seems to have been unrestrained. The coaches were imported from England, with the horses and liveries. I have heard that some of the panels on which the escutcheons were emblazoned are still preserved as relics of a gorgeous past. Dr. Ridout once told me that his father remembered when six coaches-and-six were kept in the town; and it was not the style for the grandees to appear with less than four. With the surrounding country abounding in game and the waters of the Chesapeake with oysters, ducks and terra- pin, it was not difficult to maintain a bountiful hospitality; and in this respect they appear to have fully availed them- selves of their advantages. The lovely Severn river, the high banks of which remind one of a miniature Hudson, widens, a few miles from the town, into a beautiful sheet of water called Round Bay, where lovely scenery as well as abundance of fish invited the angler to indulge his favorite pastime. On the other side of the town the " Spa " winds past fine old mansions with terraced gardens; among them Carroll- ton, the seat of Charles Carroll, and in front of the city the Severn loses itself in the blue waters of the broad Chesa- peake. Everything, therefore, combined to make boating and sailing attractive. The gentlemen kept their sail-boats as the ladies did their coaches, and many pleasant excursions were made to the country-seats of friends on the Eastern Shore and in St. Mary's; but very inferior, however, to the yachts of to-day were these sail-boats, and if the voyage lasted all night, which it frequently did, the accommodations were but scanty. One of these expeditions is pleasantly described by Re- becca Dulany in a letter to her sisters. 8 C>)ie '^un^vti '^eare dElgo. Letter from Rebecca Diilany to Jier sisters Molly, Peggy and Kitty. T,^ r. r-- 1 Thursday, /?^;/^ 4th, 1764. My Dear Girls : > ^ -r . / t 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 dElnnapofts. 9 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 y^u 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 ver}!- 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 man}^ gentlemen to din- ner but I shall not tell you who they were . . . Miss Becky, the author of this gay letter, was the eldest lo {Ont ^un^re^ 'Pears JRgo. 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 aftenvards became her hus- band: OxoN Hill, Potomack, jl/aj 30th, 1766. To Walter Dulany, Esq. Most Kind Sir : My 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. Uulaiiy, and Mr, Addison's grandmother, Rebecca and Eleanor Smith, -were sisters. otlnnapoft0. 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 ©ne '^ixn^vil 'Pears dElgo. 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. My Dear Girl : I am instructed and commanded by my Lady, to write to you which I have very readily & cheerfvilly 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 Tnos. Addison. Friday Eve, May 7th, 'j^. CHAPTER II. His Birthplace and Ancestors. 1 667- 1 7 39. 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 ©ne '^un'i)vt'i) '^tats cH^o. 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 saltem accumulem donis et fungar inani munere." In cojiimon with his family in England, John Addison was a Whig in politics, and we 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 Majesties 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 ani J^nctetove. 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 worship had lay-readers, by whom the service of the Church of England was performed and sermons were read." Air. 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 more. 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 (Dne ^unbrei) "Peare ilgo. 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, Maryland, 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 were 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. ^ivt^Tphu ' I am sorry to say 3° One ^unirc^ "Peare il^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. The Inhabitants look upon themselves to be in the crudest 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. The Rev. Henry Addison to the Lord Bishop of Londoii : 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 which the interests of the Ch of England are ^tati of t0e £6utc0. 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 ]^Iar}-- 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 slid have heard of him no more forever. Yr Ldship will judge w^hat was my astonishment, and indigna- tion, upon receiving a letter from London informing me that he was in Holy Orders. Such was his 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 officiated in the Parish, where he 32 One J^un^vc^ '^eare ilgo. 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 unworthy 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: My Lord,* tis with difficulty I can restrain myself from lamenting — (what the present Listance 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. ^tati. of tU £6urc6. 33 Far removed from her Bishops, deprived of Discipline which every other Denomination can freely exercise, and delivered up 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 hi? change of mind, he exclaimed, " Oh. Dulany." " I told him (writes Mr Chew) there was no Foundation for sucn an Ac- cusation as it was onlv from himself that I knew him to be 34 One ^unl»rei ^tave ilgo. 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 olif the steps and ordered him to go about his Business. " The next morning a servant brought a letter to Mr. Edminton (Mr. Allen's curate) w4io 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 would 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 Mr. 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 Rattle. " After that, Mr. Allen went to Mr. Thomas's and l)efore he came away showed his pistols to Mr. J. Thomas and asked him to unscrew one of them. Mr. T. told him he §taU of tU C6urce. 35 thought it strange he (a Minister) should carry them. The Minister rephed ' I not only Carry them, but will make Use of them.' From thence he went to the Church, with his pistol and a cane with a Tuck in it, and preached the most insolent Sermon." After this a meeting was arranged to take place in " Mr. Sam Galloway's fields," but Mr. Allen did not make his ap- pearance at the time fixed. He was for some little time rector of St. Anne's, and a year after was inducted into All Saints, Frederick, the richest living in the colony. The feel- ing against him in Annapolis was very bitter, and it is said that Mr. Daniel Dulany gave him a caning in the street. This he revenged many years after, June i8th, 1782, when Mr. Lloyd Dulany was in London, by publishing a scan- dalous piece in the newspaper about him. A challenge en- sued, and a duel was fought between them in St. James Park, in which Mr. Dulany was killed. He was much la- mented by all who knew him and especially among his family and friends in America, by whom he was greatly beloved. What added to the tragic character of the event was that he left a young and beautiful bride to mourn him. But dreadful as is the picture thus presented of the Church in Maryland, there were nevertheless many sincere and devoted men, both among the clergy and laity, " who kept the lamp from going out in the Temple of the Lord " — men to whom the Church of England was dear, and who through all these trials remained perfectly loyal to the church of their fathers, in these days of her humiliation. They beheld " these ravening wolves in sheep's clothing tearing the flock," and were helpless to resist them. In vain they 36 One l^un^re^ ^tave dEl^o. " vexed their righteous souls " to find a remedy for these iniquities. There seemed no possible redress. A letter in answer to one of these remonstrants says: " Mr. Eden and I before his Departure both saw the Bishop of London. The Bishop acquainted us that he had no commission of Superintendency over the clergy of America as Bishop Sherlock had, so that the necessary Con- trol must either be in the hands of the Lord Proprietor as Ordinary under his Charter, or in the King." To the Christians in the community this state of things had become almost intolerable, and no doubt had a large share in causing their disaffection to the government. Among the leading causes of the war this has, I think, been overlooked; yet surely no grievance could have been more unbearable, and if so to the Episcopalians themselves, how doubly so to members of other communions who were forced to pay for the support of these men, for whose church they had no veneration and whose ungodly lives were a scandal to all religion. When we rejoice in the blessings of a free government, how much more cause have we to give thanks for a free church, with a pure ministry, and to honor those men by whose efforts it was established on its present high moral basis. Without a glance at the terrible disorders which existed previous to the Revolution we could perhaps scarcely realize the difficulty of their task in reconstructing and disciplining the infant Church. Many were the hin- drances, moral and financial, to be encountered, and we can but admire the courage and determination with which these were met and overcome; and the success which crowned §taU of tU €6urc6. 37 their efforts is a proof that the Spirit of God was with them. But it would be by no means just to our Mother Church that we should confine our attention entirely to these dis- orders and overlook the benefits received at her hands. From the very condemnation these evil men received I think their lives must have been exceptional. If we look back a little to the earlier part of the same century we find a more attractive picture in the labors of the " Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts." In the history of their missionaries there is much to awaken our interest and admiration. The story of their adventures by sea and land and the toils and perils which they encountered in carrying the Gospel to the scattered flock in the wilds of this then savage land, and to the sav- ages themselves, form a noble record of which the Church may well be proud. This Society was founded in 1701, chiefly through the zealous efforts of Dr. Thos. Bray, " a man," says his biographer, " of Apostolic zeal." Charity to the souls of other men was wrought up to the highest pitch in his. Every reflection on the dark and forlorn condition of the Indians and negroes excited in him sincere emotions of pity and concern." In 1696 this good man was appointed ecclesiastical commissary, and entered with enthusiasm upon the task of providing earnest ministers and good books to the colonies. Finding that his presence in America was needed, and no provision being made for his journey, he sold his effects and raised money on credit to defray the ex- pense of the journey, resigning besides a desirable parish in England. He set sail for America, and after a long and dangerous voyage of three months arrived in Maryland, 38 ©ne '^urx^vt'i) ^tavB ilgo. December, 1699. He organized the Church here as well as he could, and returned to England in 1700 to obtain the sanction of the king to a bill for its order and constitution. He now gave himself up to labor for the spiritual welfare of the colonies by collecting libraries for their use, and finally by uniting those interested in this object in a Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Lands. This Society held its first meeting at Lambeth Palace, the Archbishop of Canterbury presiding. Its objects are thus declared: "To settle the State of Religion as well as may be among our own people which by all accounts very much needs their Pious care and then to proceed in the best methods they can to- wards the conversion of the natives. To supply Bibles and Prayer Books to the colonies and to furnish their churches with good books." The Society adopted as its seal a ship under sail, with a minister holding a book at the prow, and the motto " Transiens adjuva nos." In 1701 Maryland had a population of 2500, settled in thirty parishes, only half sup- plied with clergy. The S. P. G. assisted both by the settle- ment of clergy and in books. Their missionaries, true to their motto, traveled through the colonies preaching and distributing books. In 1702 Keith and Talbot were in Mary- land. The history of the latter is full of romantic interest. He, it is now known, was one of the non-juring bishops, who came to Maryland as chaplain to the ship Centurion; here he exchanged this position for the more arduous one of missionary, and later became a member of the S. P. G. I give a little extract from one of his letters, which has an apostolic ring about it: " I might have money enough of the ^taU of th €6urc6. 39 people in many places but I would not take any, of those we come to proselyte. I resolved to work with my hands rather than they should say I was a hireling, which they are very apt to do. Blessed be God I never wanted cloaths, meat nor drink, yet if you don't send me some cloaths by next shipping instead of going as they do at White Hall I shall goe as the Indians. I shall be content let it be as it will." There is a little episode connected with the work of this Society which I will give here, because while it shows the catholic spirit of the Church of that period, it has also a relation to some of the personages who figure in this his- tory. It is taken from the Churchman of May 29th, 1886: " There is an interesting phase of the early history of the Church in this country which from the nature of the cir- cumstances is almost entirely unknown, viz., the cordial unity and friendship which for nearly a century subsisted betwixt the missionaries of the venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel and the Swedish missionaries." Eric Biork's diary tells that " Mr. Evans the English minis- ter in Philadelphia in 171 2 received a letter from the High Worthy Bishop of London a copy of which I take this op- portunity to put on record that those who come after us may see how we Swedes and the English lived in trust and fel- lowship with each other: " ' I recommend to you these two Swedish missionaries Andrias Hesselius and Mr. Abraham Sidenius, whom I de- sire you to receive with all brotherly friendship and Charity and to cultivate the best understanding you can with them and assist them with anv directions thev mav stand in need 40 ^ne '^un^vci 'I)ear6 il^o. of and in my name recommend them to the good will and protection of the Governor. Your most assured friend FuLHAM, Fed. 8th, 171 1. Henry London. Andreas Hesselius was recalled in 1731. "On his de- parture he received the following testimonial from the Eng- lish clergy: We, clergy of the Province of Pennsylvania^ who have had long experience of the worth and great abilities of the Rev. Andreas Hesselius and the Rev. Abram Sidenius, who are now to return to their native land — do beg leave to add to our prayers to Almighty God for their safe arrival — this public mark of our sincere regard and brotherly affection for them. They were always welcome to our pulpits as we to theirs. They often preached in Eng- lish with applause, and good success, without the least dimi- nution of their care and vigilance over their own particular flock: whose circumstances being generally speaking but narrow, our brethren had opportunity given them to know how to be abased and suffer need. The Venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel afforded them of late some assistance in consideration of their care for the vacant churches among us, and the favor shown them is we hope a fair preludium of their attaining also in process of time to know how to abound." In 1723 Provost Samuel Hesselius succeeded his brother. He also was recalled in 1731. On his departure he received the following testimonial from the English clergy : " We, ministers of the English church have deemed it just to offer §taU of tU €6urc6. 41 a letter of recommendation to the most beloved Brother in Christ the Rev. Samuel Hesselius, blaster of Philosophy and Pastor of the Swedish Church located on a river gener- ally called Christina. As said Hesselius is now by order of his sovereign the King of Sweden about to return to his Fatherland we thus certify that this godly man during a number of years worked faithfully in the Lords vineyard on this side the ocean. He is a very gifted preacher and very diligent in propagating the Gospel. May the Glorious God so arrange that our very worthy fellow servant may arrive safely in Sweden and finally be exalted to the Heavenly Father Land through Our Lord Jesus Christ. Archibald Gumming, Commissary, and others." Samuel Hesselius appears to have returned to this country and must also in some measure have " learned to abound," for his only son John Hesselius in 1755 mentions that he was detained in Philadelphia on account of being the executor of his " dear Father." Although his name is now extinct in this country, it is still remembered with honor in the old Swedes Church in Delaware. CHAPTER IV. The Revolution as it Affected the Church. 1 773- 1 776. ALTER DULANY died in 1773, beloved and tjAj/j regretted. His wife, in a letter to her son, de- ^{^. sires nothing for him but that he should " walk If in his Father's footsteps." He left three sons,- — Walter, Daniel, and Grafton, and four daughters, — Rebecca (Mrs. Addison), Alary (Airs. Fitzhugh), Kitty, afterwards Airs. Belt, and Peggy (Airs. Alontgomery). His death was the first of a succession of sorrows shortly to fall on this happy household; sorrows and perplexities manifold, which were borne with wonderful courage and for- titude by its widowed head. One cannot read her letters without admiration for the cheerful tone in which she strives to encourage her sons, while she utterly abstains from de- manding sympathy of them or bemoaning herself. In the year 1775 her son-in-law, Thomas Addison, died, leaving her daughter a young widow, with four little helpless orphans, just when the political disturbances which had been gather- ing strength for some years were about to break out in war with the mother-country. He appears to have executed his " trust as Executor to his father" with discretion and ability, and left his own estate in a prosperous condition. By his will he made pro- Z^t (Kepofufton ani f0e tkv^^- 43 vision that his sons should be sent to England to be edu- cated as soon as they should arrive at a proper age. His widow remained at Oxon Hill, and her son Walter was sent back to her, no doubt that he might help to comfort his mother. At this time he was in his seventh year — old enough to give her a degree of companionship if not pro- tection. Whoever has been witness to a great popular uprising, such for instance as was produced in our Northern States by the firing on the flag at Fort Sumpter, or by the passing of the Northern troops through Baltimore on the 19th of April, can understand the burst of long-suppressed feeling, which was kindled into uncontrollable flame, by the burning of the " Peggy Stewart." There was no further place for moderate counsels. From that moment to be in sympathy with the King was to be a hated enemy of the colonies. Former friends, who had lived in harmony and good-fellow- ship for years and until this moment, now ranged themselves on opposite sides. Contrary views produced a conflicting sense of duty. Men were carried away and parted forever by the current of excited and violent feeling which could not be restrained, and would not tolerate for a moment a dififer- ence of opinion. Neither moderation nor compromise was possible. Such was the crisis which was produced by this event, and is thus described by Grafton Dulany in a letter to his brother Walter " near Alexandria," probably at Oxon Hill with his sister: Annapolis, Ocf. 1774. De.\r Wat: Nothing can I think, talk, hear or write of but the Tumults in this town occasioned bv the Tea. This is the 44 One ^un^re^ 'Pear© cEgo. 3rd letter I have wrote on the same Topic. A plain, brief narration without any remarks is what you would choose. Well, Anthony Stewart's brig arrived here the other day, with a very large quantity of tea, imported by Williams according to orders sent before any association at all in this Province. Stewart (as he says) according to the practice here and in Virginia entered his Vessel and paid the Duty upon the Tea. The people of the Town were very much incensed and re- solved unanimously the Tea should not be landed, but in this important afifair it was thought proper to call in the County that they might proceed with the best advice. Notice was given accordingly and yesterday they came to Town inflamed to the highest Degree determined to tar and feather Stewart and burn his Brig. Upon the meeting they became cooler and they resolved to burn only the Tea at the expense of Stewart and Wms and pardon them on their making concessions. Their ac- knowledgements were received, and a Vote put whether or not the Brig should be burned — carryed in the negative by a great Majority — notwithstanding this — as there was a par- cel of people who came resolved to do mischief, it was tho't prudent to sacrifice the Brig to appease them and keep them from something of more value. Thinking Mr. Stewart might have the Hardiness to en- deavor to vindicate his character in the Gazette, four Black- guards, Capt H., Dr. S., R. H. and R chief Coxcomb of our town, went to Mr. Stewart and made him bind himself not to publish an account of his conduct — by way of Apology, which he had set about in Hand Bills — and forewarned the printer from publishing anything in his favor at his peril. Z^t (Ketjofutton m\> t^e ^fergp. 45 If this is Liberty and this America my motto shall not be ' Libertas et Natale Solum; Yrs affectly Grafton Dulanv. " All America," writes Eddis, " is in a flame." To be antagonistic to the popular feeling at that time meant utter rout and discomfiture; it was impossible to resist the tor- rent of enthusiasm which hourly increased in volume, and the feeling against the Tories increased in the same ratio. Early in 1776 cards were issued by certain members of the *' Council of Safety " and distributed to the disaffected citi- zens of Annapolis, to this effect: "You are hereby ordered to depart from the City to-morrow at 9 o'clock." This action, however, was not indorsed by the Council itself. The cards were withdrawn and the Tories allowed to remain unmolested in their houses; but very many of them left from choice or principle. Among these were the three sons of Mrs. Dulany. Walter received a commission as captain (afterwards major) in the British Army. Grafton went to the West Indies, and soon after died of yellow fever. Daniel went to England, whence he never returned, but died some years after in London. The clergy generally came in for a large share of the strong feeling of animosity excited against the government and against the Tories. " The oath of allegiance which bound them to the Government was particularly stringent, and at the Revolution out of forty-five parishes in Maryland twenty-eight became vacant. Only twenty-five clergy took the oath of allegiance to the State. The rest who refused to 46 (J)ne l^unbrei "Deare ilgo. do it surrendered their livings ; many of them thus incurring much discomfort and loss. Many of them returned to Eng- land, and among these were some of the best men in the church and most devoted to her interests. They came into open collision with the people in the matter of prayers for the King, which, as being part of the regular service in the Prayer Book, they felt pledged not to omit and which the people would not listen to." " We get some glimpse," says Dr. Gambrall, " of the con- dition of things in the experience of Rev. Mr. Boucher. His parish was in Prince George's county at that time, and here he remained till the bitterness of the times brought things to a climax. This was reached in 1775, when he tells us ' For more than six months I preached (when I did preach) with a pair of loaded pistols lying on the cushion, having given notice that if any man or men were so lost to all sense of decency as to drag me out of my own pulpit, I should think myself justified before God and man in repel- ling violence.' " The eleventh day of May had been appointed a day of fasting and prayer by the Government, and Mr. Boucher let it be known that he would preach in his church. But com- ing to the church about fifteen minutes before the time for beginning the service, he found that already his Curate, who was a Republican, was in the desk, and that a crowd of men were around the church doors. On attempting to enter, the leader of the people approached him, saying they did not want him to preach. When he replied he would either do it or lose his life. The people, however, did not look upon that as the alternative. In the meantime he had gotten into ZU (Kevofuhon ani t^e tkv^^- 47 the church and attempted with a pistol in one hand, and a sermon in the other, to reach the pulpit. But the men were as stubborn as he was, and while respecting him enough not to hurt him, they escorted him out of church and all the way home with music too, though it was by the Fifer play- ing the Rogue's March." He, however, was not intimidated, for on the next Sunday he went to church and, though amidst great confusion, preached his fast-day sermon. Dr. Hawks gives the following estimate of Mr. Boucher's character: "Mr. Boucher was no ordinary man. Possessed of a very strong mind, highly improved by cultivation, he exhibited the graces of accomplished scholarship and clothed his thoughts in language alike vigorous and elo- quent. His piety was of the good, old-fashioned solid char- acter that exhibited itself in a consistent. Christian life; it was the religion that wears well; he was not wanting in zeal and fervor, but he thought more of holiness of conduct than anything else. We have before us many of his letters, hastily written and in the freedom of affectionate confidence. Not one that might not be published just as it is and do credit to the author's mind. But, what is better yet, every one of them w^ould do greater credit to the writer's heart. It is impossible to read them and not perceive that the writer is an honest man. He formed his opinions calmly, and expressed them frankly and fearlessly. He was opposed to the American War; he was conscientious in his opposi- tion: it cost him all he had in the world. His property was confiscated, his person proscribed, and he was obliged to flee for safety. Yet in these letters there is a beautiful spirit 48 ©ne '^un'(>vi^ 'Xjtave dtlgo. of candor and even of kindly feeling towards our country and countrymen. He never lost his interest in either. The Church of America was to the last, in his heart. Strongly attached to the best men among the clergy, he continued his correspondence with them after political convulsions had separated him from them forever. Seabury, Chandler, and White were all his friends, the two former regular corres- pondents." The following is an extract from his farewell sermon: " If I am to credit some surmises which have been kindly whis- pered in my ear, unless I will forbear to pray for the King you are to hear me pray no longer. Distressing, however, as the dilemma confessedly is, it is not one that either re- quires or will admit of a moment's hesitation. Entertaining all respect for my ordination vows, I am firm in my resolu- tion, whilst I pray at all, to conform to the unmutilated Liturgy of my Church; and reverencing the injunction of the Apostle, I will continue to pray for the ' King and all in authority under him': and I will do so, not only because I am so commanded, but hope ' that (as the Apostle adds) we may continue to live quiet and peaceable lives in all Godli- ness and honesty.' Inclination as well as duty confirms me in this purpose. " As long as I live, therefore, yes, while I have my being, will I, with Zadok the priest and with Nathan the prophet, proclaim ' God save the King.' " Mr. Boucher now returned to his native country, where he spent the remainder of his life. In 1784 he was pre- sented with the living of Epsom in Surrey. In 1787 he pub- lished a book entitled " A View of the Causes and Conse- ZU (Uetjofution anl tU Cfergp. 49 quences of the American Revolution. Thirteen Discourses delivered in North America between the years 1763 and I775-" This volume is dedicated to General Washington, for whose character he entertained a profound respect. The dedication is too long to insert here, but General Washing- ton made a courteous acknowledgment. He devoted his literary labors during the last thirteen years of his life to the compilation of a Glossary of Pro- vincial and Archaeological Words, which he intended as a supplement to Dr. Johnson. It was purchased after his death by the proprietors of Webster's Dictionary. Bishop Meade says of him : " This distinguished man was ordained for the parish of Hanover, 1762. He was the inti- mate friend of Washington, and was selected by him as trav- elling companion and guide to young Custis, to whom he was tutor while in Annapolis in 1771." CHAPTER V. A Tory Family during the Revolution. 1 774-1 783. T is interesting to notice the different aspects which events, that in the distance have assumed to us heroic proportions, wore to those who in that day witnessed them with disapproving eyes, as was the case with many AnnapoHtans of the higher class. Living in the charming society of their exquisite Httle city, edu- cated in EngHsh colleges and enriched by British patronage, they were naturally averse to the subverting of a condition of things so entirely satisfactory to themselves. Yet even among those who, when the great struggle became inevit- able, sided with the mother-country, there were some who made a manful resistance to the oppressive acts which brought it on — notably Daniel Dulany the younger, whose speeches against the Stamp Acts were admired and com- mended by Pitt. I do not doubt these men were actu- ated by higher motives than self-interest, and that their loy- alty was genuine to a government which they had been taught to reverence as part of their religion. Certainly their interests, after war had been proclaimed, seemed to be with the country of their birth, where their possessions chiefly lay. Their kn^alty to England entailed upon them years of exile, and in many instances the confiscation of their estates. After the burning of the Peggy Stewart in 1774, the feeUng of hostiHty to the government and to its officers and sup- porters constantly increased. " The citizens met to form themselves into a company and to select their own officers; and gentlemen of the first fortune took their place among the common soldiers. Still, as late as January, 1776, we find that although Mrs. Dulany had accepted the invitation of the ' Council of Safety,' and after the departure of her sons had taken refuge at ' Epping,' the home of her daughter, Mrs. Fitzhugh, we find, from her letter to her friend, Mr. Brooke, who appears to have remained in the city, that she consid- ered these as temporary disturbances which by wise action on the part of the Government might still be adjusted." We find that " at this period of gloom and general dis- tress balls were prohibited in this place and throughout the province." Epping, /^«. i8th, 1776. To James Brooke, Esq. Ur Sir : I am much obliged for y'r agreeable Favour. You can't conceive how happy it makes me to hear the most trifling Occurrences which happen among our old Acquaintance. I wish it was in my power to afford you as much pleasure but there is so very little Variety amongst us that it is im- possible to be Entertaining. We dined with Mrs. Boyce on New YVs Day and with neighbour Gittings a few days agoe and have several invita- 52 One 5unl)rel> "Peare dRgo. tions, so that we have now and then an Opportunity of tucking a Napkin under our Chin and partaking of a good fat Turkey &c. Venison too we have had I'll assure you! which is more than I could get at Annapolis : and we feasted our neighbours aforesaid upon a fine fat Haunch, last week & any & every one would have taken great Delight in help- ing you to some of the choice cuts. You make me very happy by the acct you tell me Dennis gives of my Family. It exactly corresponds with Kitt's but I did suspect hers was partly Pufif. Peggy I think is veiy fantastical but you must know I can't help it. Grafton and Anthony have been on a visit there this month, and I begin to fear they have been lost in some of our waggon ruts. I think we have many here deep enough to swallow man and horse. Wishing you all Health and Happiness, D'r Sir Yr's sincerely M. DULANV. Epping, Feb. 9th, 1776. Dear Sir : As you are so obliging as to say you must be unhappy till you have obtained Pardon for a Neglect which you imagined I imputed to you — but which I never did — I flatter myself I have too much good-nature to be so ready to take amiss anything my particular Friends do, or omit to do, without hearing what they have to say for themselves. And I must say if Becky and I had been so Unreasonable you have amply acquitted y'rself and come of¥ with flying Colours. Talking of flying Colours puts me in mind of our Army at Annapolis, and enquiring whether you stand yV ground or we are to wish you Joy of y'r Rank in the Army. I think Coll. Brooks would sound vastly well, & if I were you I would be nothing else. God bless you ! tell me what you and the knowing ones you converse with, think of the Times now? Particularly what of the Ambassadors which are talked of. I have always had Hopes notwithstanding Ap- pearances were so much against us that something might be concerted this Winter, to bring about an Accommodation & think if I was Prime Minister its just the step I sh'd have advised. An Olive Branch in one Hand & if that was re- jected, a Force sufficient in the other, to put a final end to the Dispute: which must be better for both parties than the cruel Suspense we have been in so long. Mollie & her little Majesty are perfectly well. She is really a Surprising child of her Age and Opportunit}^s. And has a language of her own, which however we all perfectly understand, and is very diverting. Deliver our loves &c as before & believe me Yrs Sincerely, M. DuLANY, for all. The following extract is taken from the Gazette: " On Tuesday, March 5th, 1776, information was received that a man of war and two tenders were coming up the Bay, and the general expectation was that they would be at An- napolis in a few hours. On the 8th, Friday, intelligence was received that the vessels were, the Otter, sloop of war, and two tenders; the Defence however being got ready, Friday 54 One J^wn'iivt^ 'Xjttxve dElgo. night, towed down the river manned with a number of bra\e fellows, all of whom were Americans in their hearts attended by several smaller vessels crowded with men to assist in case of an engagement. Captain Nicholson of the ' Defence ' got under way early on Saturday, resolved to take Hud- son's ship (a large vessel the Otter had made a prize of) and engage the Otter. The morning was thick and hazy and the ' Defence ' got nearer to them than was expected before they discovered her bearing down upon them. Those on board the tenders seemed much alarmed, and on a signal given more hands were sent by the * Otter ' to assist in row- ing them ofif, which was effected with dif^culty leaving 3 or 4 small prizes besides Hudson's ship: all of which fell into the hands of Captain Nicholson, who having manned the prize ship and seeing the ' Otter ' get under way clewed up his courses, and prepared .for battle: but the ' Otter' having waited two hours at length bore away. Captain N. con- tinued his station some time and having performed his duty in the most gallant manner, returned with his prizes to Bal- timore. On Sunday the ' Otter ' sloop and her tenders made sail and went down the Bay." Mrs. Dulany to James Brooke, Esq. Epping, March 14th, 1776. D'r Sir : We are exceedingly impatient to hear from Annapolis and whether it is apprehended that the Town is in danger of a Desolation. Becky sends her man down for Advice, as in that case we dR ^orp 5^"*^%- 55 should chuse to go down, to secure many things which wc left behind, and can by no means Spare. As soon as she heard of the arrival of the Man of War at Baltimore she was for setting ofif Immediately: but on considering the matter we concluded that if they came on such an Errand, there would have been such a scene of Confusion and Distress that it would have been impossible to do any thing. I humbly hope there will be no occasion for such an Ex- pedition. We request the Favor of you to give us your opinion whether it would be expedient for us to go down for the aforesaid Purpose. The Times grow Critical now: but I please m}'self that wc shall see you arrive ere long amongst us with full Confirma- tion of all the Good News I am in daily Expectation of hearing. In the name of all at Epping, Can you procure for us a pound or two of Tea: good green if you can. If not, good Brown Bohea will go down. Very truly your's Mary Dulaxy. Mrs. Thomas Addison was married to Mr. Hanson in 177 — . The following letter to her sister, though without date, appears to belong to this period. I presume paper at this time must have been scarce, as it is written on a leaf cut from an old account book: Sunday Evening. Hfy dear Kitty : Fleet comes down for our things. I have ten thousand things to sav to vou but have not time. I have just re- 56 One '^unUz^ 'Xjtave ilgo. 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 Mr. 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 afTect R. Hanson. Letter from Mrs. Hanson to her brother Walter at Nezu York. OxoN Hill, Ang. 27th, 178 1. 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 was 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 58 One J^unim 'Xjiave ilgo. 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 yV acquaintances here : and my Watty the eldest. I tell you this that if at any time you should feel a more than conmion Inclination to be amongst us, only fancy you have ten or a dozen Children hanging about 3'ou and thank your stars you are a hundred miles off. . . . 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. Garnett at the risk of his own life had nursed Grafton Dulany in vellow fever. /'/ j 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 afifair 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 ofTers) & 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. IThe lands belonging to the Dulanys were confiscated except 400 acres granted to each of the daughters in Baltimore County. 66 ^ne '^un^vt'b '^eare dEl^o. ping chooses to fix here which is a most convincing proof of her love to me as she always 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 effects 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 afifect 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 Apj^il, 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 rrtore reason than Swift had to wish 68 One '^un^vt'i) 'X}tavB Jlgo. 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 very opportunely for Kitty, just two 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 afTect. Mother M. DULANY. From Major Walter Dulany to his sister Airs. Fitzhugh. London, Aug. 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 One "^urx^ivi^ "^eare ilgo. 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 & Gracious Father, my most humble and hearty thanks for all Thy Goodness and Loving Kindness to us and to our families — 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 i& capable of affording and go into Everlasting Bliss in the world to come. I return Thee thanks for the support Thou was pleased to afford us 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. z? N August, 1784, Walter D. Addison and his two (^ brothers, with their cousin, John Carr, set sail for 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: Ang. 8t/i, 1784. A'fy 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 Fll assure you. They are gone to settle at Epping. I hope this same Husband & child will furnish her with sufficient employment to reconcile ^c^oof Bift in ^ngfani. 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 w-ere 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 impoitation 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 noiv 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 ©ne '^nntvi'i) "^eare ilgo. 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 sufifering 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 ^c6oof Btfe ttt engfan^. 75 strong impression on his mind, and the image of the man in the habiUments of the grave was often before him.") " In my solitary 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, Mr. 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 76 ©ne ^unirc^ "Peara ilgo. 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 & 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 inefifectual, 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 efifect 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- ^c^oof Bife in engfanb. 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, Major 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, Mrs. Montgomery, and their great-uncle, Rev. Henry Addison. At the house of ]Mrs. Montgomery they frequently met their uncle. Major 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. My 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 ©ne '^un^vt'i) ^tave dElgo. " 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. My brother John, who possessed a lion- heart, was with much dif^culty prevented from making a personal attack on the Captain. Having taken boxing les- sons in London, he thought he could manage both Captain ^c^oof Bife in engfanb. 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 Ji^istice.' 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." K. CHAPTER VII. Return to Annapolis. 1789. 1^1^ 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 '^)f' them. To their great delight they found the old lady in excellent health and spirits, and that her son, their uncle Walter, and his lovely wife were living with 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." (^efuvtt to dElnnapofie. 8i " Aly 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 dismay and confusion. He was met at the door by his Grandmamma Dulany in highly offended 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, &c. 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 deliberatelv chosen for himself, and 82 ©ne ^un^v^^ '^eare cE^o. that a poison lay beneath these attractive shows. Altliough these enjoyments were not condemned by any of the friends whose opinion he vahied, 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 Praver Book. MRS. HESSELIUS. Painted by her husband, John Hesselius. From a picture in the possession of Mrs. Commodore Ridgely. (Kefurn to ilnnapofie. 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- §4 One '^unt>v. 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 Murray, afterwards 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 ^unire^ ^cav6 ilgo. 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. / i J CHAPTER IX. His Early Ministry. 1793-1799- ■"^£> 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 Jo8 ^ne '^xxnlu^ '^tave JElgo. 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 American Church, and in 1791 was 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, ©rbtnatton an'i) 6arfp QUtnigfrp. 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. " IN'Ir. 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 j\Ir. 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 ]\Ir. 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 Mr. Addison does not remember.) Mr. Coleman replied, produced the Canons of the Church of 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. Air. 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 J^wrxtn^ "Peare .Hgo. " 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 (lid 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 bowec the knee to the Baal of worldliness. " The Evangelicals, the Wesleyans (not then severed from Orbtnafton anii (Batfp QUiniefrp. 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 Master, 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 flock, 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 vit> 'X)ear6 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 RepubHcan 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- cE 'X}uv at cEnnapofi0. 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 ofifense, 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 efifect. The disclosures of these conferences and the demands on America, have opened the eyes of the generality of people. 128 ^ne '^un^vt^ "Peare Jl^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. DULANV. 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 1 816, when Mr. A. was living in George- Town, he resolved to erect the church for them. He carried the deed which sfranted the land to the Methodist Church in Jl rjtav (xt cEnna^Joeie. 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- scrib'ed 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 m 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 indifiference 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 twentv 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 alt'ars 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 One '^unln^ "Peare ilgo. fall asleep if the Methodists were not by our side to stir us up to activity. He added : ' I believe that the Methodists have rendered the Episcopal Church tlie 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. in o t"^ ^ r- 1 U f^ 5 ^ ^ > s ^ 5 :> Ln > in' Ci ?- c: K 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 comer 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 Kev. 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 One ^uni)rel> 'Peare ilgo. 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. IN'Iessenger's death, my grandfather was made Rector of Broad Creek Parish, " it contained," wTites 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 sufifer 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 (Rector of (gvoal tvuL ^33 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 efficient 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 affection 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 ofif 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 ©ne ^un^rel) ^tave dElgo. 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 which 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 sulifered 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. (Kecfor of QE>toal> Creeft. 135 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 ferny', 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 ^laker 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 ©ne ^uttbrel) ^eare cRgo. 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 ofifered, 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- (Jlector of (gvoa'b €vuL 137 tached some ten or twenty acres of land. The rent paid, was the services of Uttle Tom, then about twelve years of age, in riding occasionally to the mill. The father was an habitual drunkard and the sons also wxre 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 w^as 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 13^ ^M lEfun^vt^ 'Peare ilgo. 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 Mr. — 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 inefifaceable 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- (Rector of Q0roab Creeft. 139 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 ^uttirei '^eare 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 Mr. Jefferson. It was in the year 1801, when Mr. Jefferson had just taken the presidential chair, and Mr. Baker had written several newspaper articles 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 possil:>le. 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 (Uecfor of (groab CvuL 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. ]\Iuch 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 aflfair 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 anv 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 'SW. Addison. ' chilled with lior- ror and left him to his own reflections.' " In a desponding mood my father crossed the river at 142 One ^nn^vzl ^tave il^o. 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, ]\Ir. 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 was 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 Vvcre 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 (Rector of QBroai €reeft. 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 l)e 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 '^unUtl 'Vjzave 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. ^ly 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 (Jlector of Q0roal) Creeft. 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 x\ddi- 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 country, 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 ^ne J^un'tm 'Vjtave ilgo. 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 with 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 (Kector of (groai CvuL 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 One ^unbreb 'VjtavB dElgo. 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 Paiiie's "Age of Reason," &c. (Rector of (^roai CvuL 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. pROM 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 was 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 wreck by the flames at daybreak ^otne £ife at iDvon jgtff. 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 Alount 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. Wlien 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 (Due ^unbreb "^eare S^o, months of August and September. Indeed, my grand- father's health ahvays suffered there. The society in the neighborhood was ver}^ 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. Igome ^ife at ^;con l^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 interest in the spiritual as well as intellectual improvement of her 154 One '^un^vt^ '^eare dElgo. 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 tlieir 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 and the friendlv talk. '§om Bifi at O^on gtff. i55 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 ]\Ieade 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 J^unlvt^ "^eare ilgo. 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 complied 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 ^ome Btfe at Oron l^iff. 157 than I have been for a week past, but my strength is much dechned since you saw me, and my appearance much altered. 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 5""^^^^ 'X)ear0 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 imtil 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 off 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: gome Btfe at Oxon J^Ht ^59 To the Memory of Elizabeth Dulany Addison, Wife of Walter D. Addison, Who died July 31st, 1808, aged 33 years. "A beam of Truth from Eternal Brightness flowed, Played o'er her breast, and checked each rising fear ; With pious Faith, to Heaven's decree she bowed. And viewed the awful bourne without a tear. Her soul, enlightened by a Saviour's grace, Lived but to die, and dying lived to Peace." Taken down when I visited her tomb, April 30th, 181 5. W. D. Addison. His dying request, thirty-three years after, was to be buried by her side. ^att II. THE REV. WALTER DULANY ADDISON. From a portrait by King. CHAPTER XIII. Ministry in Georgetown. 1809-1817. T was in the year 1809," writes my uncle, " that my father accepted the call to St. John's and removed with his two younger sons to Georgetown, where he resided for some years with his brother John. Most of his ' boys ' followed him, and he continued his school there successfully for several years, while, at the same time, he performed faithfully his duties as pastor of St. John's." This old church is so intimately associated with my grand- father's whole ministerial life that it becomes necessary for me to dwell for a few moments on its early history. We have seen that in 1794 (only a year after his ordination) he became interested in gathering together a congregation in Georgetown, holding afternoon services for them in the Presbyterian church, which was kindly loaned him for that purpose by Dr. Balch. There being at that time no Episco- pal church in Washington, and this city having now become the political center of a great and prosperous nation, he was, from the first, deeply impressed with the urgent necessity of establishing a church, here. But the number of resident Episcopalians was small, and great difficulties arose in pro- 1 64 (H)after ©ufan^ dElb^teon. viding the necessary funds. He was not, however, to be der terred by these, but undertook at once this labor of love in addition to his own parochial duties, which, owing to the re- moteness of his parish church, were at this time not light. The fact that the site of Washington was really a part of the parish in which he resided and of which he was after- wards Rector, may have caused him to feel a more personal interest in the matter; but at all events the establishing of a church here became at once the object of his unwearied efforts. From an historical account of St. John's Church, George- town, by the Rev. Dr. C. M. Butler, I extract the following: " The first service conducted by an Episcopal clergyman in Georgetown was held by the Rev. W. D. Addison in 1794. This gentleman was residing at the time in Prince George's county, Md." Two years after " a lot was given, the foundations laid, and the building carried up to the first range of windows. In this condition it remained until the year 1803. During this period the Rev. Mr. Addison held occasional services in this place, though with little encouragement to his hopes of completing the building." It appears, however, that neither his faith nor his en- deavors failed, and in 1803 we find " a meeting of the citi- zens of Georgetown was held at Mr. Lemme's tavern on Friday the 28th of Jan., pursuant to a notice in the Washing- ton ' Federalist,' to take measures for renewing the effort to build an Episcopal church." A year after it was sufficiently finished to admit of the "vestry advertising for a Rector. . . They were visited by the Rev. Mr. Sayrs of Port Tobacco, Qtltnietrj in (Beorgefown. 165 who was elected Rector." " He was," continues Dr. Butler, " well qualified for usefulness in the then important position which he occupied." His ministry closed with his life in 1809. His epitaph, written by Mr. F. S. Key, may be seen inscribed on a tablet to his memory in the church. With the exception of Christ Church at the Navy Yard, some miles distant, St. John's continued for some years the only Episcopal church in Washington. " In 1809 Mr. Addison was called to the rectorship. The memories of some of our older citizens will recall how the church was thronged to overflowing with all that was most elevated in station and wealth from the capital. The pews in the galleries were rented at high rates, and to persons of great respectability. The street before the church door was filled with glittering vehicles and liveried servants." The Rev. Dr. Lindsay tells us who some of these " vehicles " contained: "We learn," he says, "from one of the oldest inhabitants that the congregation was a very distinguished one at this period, coming from far and near in two-horse and four-horse carriages. Among the latter were the car- riages of Mrs. Madison, Mrs. Calvert from Bladensburg, and the British minister; behind the last-named were two liveried servants with drawn swords. Other well-known names are found in the list of the members of the congrega- tion at that time." In 181 1 the church was really insufficient for the congregation. It became necessary to enlarge it, and plans were drawn with that view, but such strenuous objections were made by some of the pew-owners that the enterprise had to be laid aside, the result being eventually that another congregation was organized, and " Christ i66 (pDaftcr ©ufanp ilibteon. Church," Georgetown, was buih a few years after, and the Rev. R. Keith called as Rector. The fashionable element, h.owever, soon abandoned the Georgetown churches, A new edifice in a more central position was erected in i8i6, and from that time they had to depend on the residents in the vicinity for their congregations. After this I imagine both churches were feebly supported, as we find in 1820 that the Bishop desires to reunite them. My uncle continues: "Soon after he was settled at St. John's fin 1809 or 1810) he had occasion to preach at Rock Creek Church a funeral sermon. The Rector, Mr. Reed, had recently retired from the ministry, worn out by years. The church was in so dilapidated a state that he was com- pelled to hold the services under the trees in the yard. There never had been a floor to the building. This had very much troubled Mr. Reed, who used to say it was ' a shame not to have a plank floor, as the dust from the dirt floor was very annoying to the eyes!' Mr. Addison immediately set about repairing the edifice; he managed to raise by subscription some hundreds of dollars and to inspire the congregation with a zeal in behalf of their venerable but most neglected place of worship. The church in a short time became de- cent and comfortable. ' Addison's Chapel,' situated near Bladensburg, an antiquated and superannuated building, next engaged his attention. From three persons he suc- ceeded in obtaining $550 and smaller sums from many others. He also managed to interest the congregation in the project of building on the site of the frame edifice, a brick church, which was accomplished between the years 1812 and 1816." QUtntefrp in &tov^ttovon. 167 It was at this period that the war with England took place, which was by many of our people condemned as unnecessary and uncalled for. I find three old letters descriptive of these days, which are interesting as giving a picture of the time. The first is from Mrs. Hesselius to her grandson, Dr. E. B. Addison, then a student of medicine at Philadelphia: Woodstock, Sept Stk, 18 14. Yours of last month, my dear Edmund came to hand sometime after date. It was on that day the fatal battle of Bladensburg was fought, which filled the State with conster- nation and dismay, and this family with the utmost horror and dread. We were within sound of the guns, and know- ing that our dear and near relations were engaged, you can better imagine than I can describe our feelings. The first acct. we received was that William Murray was wounded and taken prisoner. He received a ball which went through his right ankle, yet fought on : another went through a little above his right hip, but still he kept his place, until his left leg was shattered by another ball. He lay from Wednesday noon until Friday morning without surgical aid, for there was none provided by the officers.* When the wounds were examined, it was found necessary to remove him to Balti- more, to be under the immediate attention of surgical skill, as the ball and pieces of shattered bones must be extracted. The wound has assumed a healthy appearance, he has no fever and is in excellent spirits, which have never forsaken him. Thus you see, my dear, the dark cloud is brightened by the rays of Divine Mercy. He is in an elegant room at Mrs. B. Williams' and has everything that Friendship and Art can do for him. i68 (Baffer ©ufanj dEliiieon. Baltimore has been in constant expectation of an Attack ever since. They have fortified the Town, and the fortifica- tions go so near Green Wood, it is feared the house will be in danger should there be an engagement. They keep 10,000 men in the City and 20,000 more at some distance. We were no way prepared for War. The battle mentioned before, was intended to keep the British from executing their purpose of destroying the Capitol and Palace, but they effected it with ease. The Secretary of War had made not the least defense, and Ft. Warburton, which had cost the State immense sums, was abandoned before attacked, as there were no men to work the guns. Our Country appears to be ruined. If it is not, it must be through the lenity of those we have very foolishly made our Enemies. I hear your Father continued in Georgetown though the British were so near. I think you must be very deficient in Complaisance not to wait on the G's — indeed not to return every civility, as far as you can without neglecting your business, which nothing should tempt you to do. You may be assured that if you would be respected you must respect. If you think the pur- chase of an agreeable acquaintance not worth your attention you will not obtain it — and then no place can be made agree- able to you. People all like attention, and a visit from a well-behaved young gentleman will always be acceptable to young ladies, and it is a compliment expected by them, and if omitted gives ofifense. What have you done with the new acquaint- ance you said you have made. I counsel you to beware of young men, they are generally corrupt in principle and abominable in practice. In the company of young ladies there is no danger. There is nothing now but confusion of War and distress of fam- ilies. No safe place of abode and everything to be dreaded. All join in love and best wishes. If you come down I hope you will take Woodstock in your way. Yr. Affect. Grandmother, M. Hesselius. The following letter, although without date, must have been written some time in 1 814. It gives an idea of the horror excited by the name of Bonaparte even in this re- mote region, and serves to show also the state of feeling which existed in some classes of the community with regard to our own rulers: Mrs. Belt to Mr. Fitzlmgh. Your letter my dear Mr F. made me both glad and sorry —sorry that my dear Peggy is indisposed — ^but it is good news indeed that yr corn beats yr neighbor Y's All yr bright prospects delight my heart, and I think I can delight yr heart too, by telling you the great news our Paper gave us yesterday Evening, of the complete overthrow of the French Army last month— 35000 French the paper says are annihilated — that is a strange expression — but the English of it is — they are destroyed as an army, and all are taken prisoners or killed, but the wretched animal of an Emperor was not there. Austria has declared in favor of Russia, and I say, the Empress will assist in having her Samson shorn. Take notice of this prediction — but if she should fail me I I/O (VOaiUv ©ufan^ il^bieon, shall blame her altogether — for her want of Philanthropy, and cannot help thinking she is highly responsible to the world at large to exert all her power in their favor — but when I consider the Solemn Oath she took, it is a stumbling block in my way that I cannot scramble over, and I actually would not be situated as she is, for ten thousand-thousand worlds. Poor wretched woman. What must she do ! Poor Ben Nicholson, you have no doubt seen, was killed at York. I have not seen any of the family. John Ridout came here in the Packet on Friday, to see what was going on. He gives a very diverting account of their alarm in Annapolis; — his Father turned out, but did not know how to manage his musket, not having touched a Gun for years — he wanted John to give him some idea of it but I think he said he had not leisure to attend to him, and if an attack had been made I suppose he must have taken to his heels, as many others would have done. I asked John what his Father thought of the destruction of Havre de Grace &c and he says he never saw his Father vexed with the English be- fore. I am most truly sorry for the poor dear sufferers, but firmly believe the British had no intention of burning either of the Towns, and would not have done it if the Flag had not been fired on — which I suppose never was done before in a civilized nation. Mr. Ramsay has been down and staid with us. He was at Mr. Hughes' Furnace when they de- stroyed it — and conversed with them — they told him, they never thought of destroying Havre-de-Grace till they fired on them — but he did not speak of the Flag. George F has bought a Horse but I am afraid to trust him in the Gig or I might be tempted to take that " Jig " with you whilst we are (Yldtmetrp in (Beorgetown. 171 all quiet, and an Armistice is talked of. The rain this even- ing prevented my attending Doctor Kemp — and to comfort myself I seated myself to talk to you and have written a larger volume than Duvall could have done, if it was to be wholly confined to the justification of our Rulers — indeed there is nothing to be said with truth — but that they are the tools of Bonaparte and I hope their reign will end with his and very soon, in which you will all join Your affect C. Belt. The following letter from Mrs. Hanson, who was then liv- ing with her son in Georgetown, was written, I presume, in the same year to Mrs. Belt: Georgetown, June ylk. My dear Kitty : There are few things in this world which would give me such delight as having you with us these awful times, do write to me and tell me all your plans. The newspapers will inform you of all the grand doings here on Saturday. I am sorry to say I was not a witness to any part of it — the dread of being in so great a crowd, and not having any one to en- courage me I did not attempt it — had you been here, we should both have been there, and from all accts we shd. have been paid amply for our trouble. Walter did not at- tend at Church or Dinner, — I am sure no one rejoices more sincerely than he does at the victory of the Russians — but he has scruples that prevented him. I wish it was in my power to get to you, but that is impossible. My love to the dear Fitzhughs. Ever yours, R. Hanson. 172 (pOafter ©ufan^ dR^bteon. In the year 181 6 Mr. Addison suffered much from severe inflammation of the eyes, and in November of that year we find the following petition from the vestry, written, however, by his hand: '■ We, the members of the Vestry of St. John's Church, Georgetown, fully sensible how important it is that the ser- vices of our church should be duly and regularly performed, and as our Rector, W. D. Addison, is, through indisposi- tion, unable to go through the same, we therefore request you to appoint Francis S. Key as Lay Reader, whose Talents and Piety, and soundness in the Faith, render him apt and meet to exercise the ofifice thus reposed in him. We are, Rt. Rev. Sir, yours very respectfully, W. D. Addison. (Here follow the names of the Vestry.) In a private letter to the Bishop, which accompanies this, he says : " A Lay Reader would enable me to serve occa- sionally the vacant churches in the neighborhood, to admin- ister the Holy Sacraments." He also mentions the fact that his " eyes are seriously inflamed." ST. JOHN'S, GEORGETOWN. CHAPTER XIV. : His Ministry in Georgetown Continued. 1 817- 1 824. jfT^JflS ministry in Georgetown was eminently success- ili^l^ ful," writes my uncle. " He was esteemed and be- ^^^ loved by his people, and greatly revered for his un- "^^^^ affected piety by all who came in contact with him. This ministry continued in all 17 years, but as early as in the year 1817 he was seized with inflammation of the eyes, which greatly impeded his work and eventually culminated in blindness. He at that time sent in his resignation to the vestry, but it was not accepted, and he continued his minis- trations at St. John's, with the very valuable assistance of the Rev. Reuel Keith, afterwards Professor Keith of the Theo- logical Seminary, of which institution, during its infancy, he took almost entire charge." We find an allusion to this arrangement in a letter to Bishop Kemp: Georgetown, May 6f/i, 18 17. -Rt. Rev. & dear Sir : I received yr. kind letter of the ist, and am happy to in- form you that matters are settled agreeably to my wishes. I consented to serve provided the vestr\^ would allow me an 174 (P^after 'Duian^ dEl^^teon. assistant, which they have agreed to do. By this arrange- ment, I shall be able to take charge of a country* church within a few miles of this place — this is a matter which I have very much at heart, as the people of that place can not afford to employ a minister. I shall be glad to receive your approbation in this matter. . . ." My grandfather was too bold and outspoken in his advo- cacy of what he believed to be right, and in his condemna- tion of what he conceived to l^e wrong, not to encounter opposition from those whose standards differed from his; and while in the main I am quite sure that my uncle's esti- mate of his ministry in Georgetown was perfectly correct, I think that his popularity declined in the later years of his rectorship. After Christ Church was started many of the younger and gayer of his congregation drifted away from him, while the attachment of the more earnest members of his church became stronger and closer. I think I trace the first premonition of this change in a letter to Bishop Kemp written in 1817. Between the Bishop and himself there appears to have ex- isted a warm afifection, although they were not always en- tirely agreed in their opinions. In this year (181 7) we find a correspondence between them on the subject of " prayer- meetings " and " extempore prayer." His letters only re- main, but we have a clue to the tenor of the Bishop's in the extracts he gives from them. One would have liked, how- ever, to have seen the entire correspondence. * Rock Creek. QUtmefrp in (Beorge^own. 175 To Bishop Kemp. Rt. Rev. and dear Sir : I have been endeavoring for some time past to establish prayer-meetings in this place and am sorry to say that my labors have not been crowned with success: the prejudices here are strong against every thing of the kind. Sunday service they seem to think quite sufificient. In addition to prayer-meetings in private houses, it is my desire to open my church one evening in the week, for Divine service; I wanted also to deliver a sermon. As I am. fully assured that you will highly approve of the plans here suggested, I must then get the favor of you to signify your approbation of the same, in a letter addressed to me. The dissipation here has grown to a very alarming height, and I know of no other methods by which it may be put down than the ones I state. Yrs my dear Sir with the highest Respect W. D. Addison. It is difficult to realize in this advanced age that a single weekly service should have been considered such an inno- vation as to excite prejudice and opposition in the congre- gation, and render it expedient for the Rector to ask the Bishop's sanction; but such seems to have been the state of the case. On the subject of extempore prayer Bishop Kemp appears to have been non-committal, and about '' the prayer-meet- ings " a little lukewarm, for in another letter Mr. Addison writes: " I find in your letter you have given no sanction to extempore prayer, nor do I recollect ever having heard you 176 (Rafter ©ufan^ dElb^taon. say anything in favor of it. I asked for yr sentiments on the subject of prayer-meetings, not a word of extempore prayer." In still another letter, referring to the same subject, he says: " I quote yr own words: ' As to Prayer-Meetings, I am of opinion that their success and utility will depend upon a variety of circumstances that must be left to the Prudence and Discretion of every Clergyman.' " The two following letters explain his course at this time: Georgetown, Nov. '^d, 1820. Rt. Rev. & Dear Sii' : Some changes have taken place in this Parish since I saw you, which make me desirous to leave it. This being the state of things, I wish you to take the matter into considera- tion and advise me where to go. Knowing your Disposition to serve me at all times, there needs no apology for any trouble I may give you in the ■course of the Business. One thing I have to request that for particular reasons, the matter may rest between our- selves. I am dear Sir with high Regard & Esteem Walter D. Addison. Georgetown, Dec. ist, 1820. My dear Sir : I received your friendly letter of 23d of November, for which I must beg you to accept my hearty thanks. After weighing all matters well, I am clearly of opinion that the Plan which you suggest is a good one. After a few months QfHtmetr^ in (Beofgefown. 177 have elapsed I think there might possibly be some prospect of making a proposition to the two churches of having them reunited. The charms of Novelty are great to some minds and when they are aided by Piety and Talents both of which I think this young man* possesses in an eminent degree— these circumstances preclude the Hope of success at this time. Should the aspect of things prove more favorable you shall hear from me, as I shall need yr aid and advice. We have a Friend above to whom I am willing to submit all things. Do remember me kindly to Mrs Kemp. My dear Sir, yours with high esteem and affection Walter D. Addison. What anxieties and " searchings of heart " preceded this resolution to give up his church we do not know. Dr. But- ler tells us that he resigned the rectorship of St. John's " under the conviction that his usefulness had diminished, and that the parish might prosper better in other hands." One can easily understand that this " conviction " was reached by painful steps, but probably to Bishop Kemp alone he confided his difficulties, for no record of them re- mains in his family. A few months after we find the fol- lowing letter to the Bishop : Ap/. 24t/i, 1 82 1. Jfy dear Sir : The Revd Stephen Tyng, a young man from the East- ward, has preached for me several times. Aly congregation *The young man whose merits receive such generous recognition from my grandfather was the Rev. Charles Mcllvane, so distinguished first as Professor at West Point, and then as one of the leading Bishops of our Church. 1/8 (pS)after ©ufanj ilbMeon. so far as I know their sentiments are much pleased with him. I believe the vestry would engage him to take charge of this Parish were you fully satisfied with his recommendations — which will be laid before you by himself. He reads re- markably well, and is a good preacher — and I know of no man more qualified to meet the views of the congregation in every respect. He is quite a genteel man, and of consider- able Address — and as I observed before, he seems to give very general satisfaction. He brings letters from Bishops Hobart, and Griswold. I am dear sir, yours affectionately W. D. Addison. Immediately after his resignation my grandfather took charge of Rock Creek Church and Addison's Chapel, to both of which he had already devoted a good deal of his time and labor. But in 1823 Mr. Tyng accepted a call to Queen Anne's, Prince George's county, and he was (I be- lieve unanimously) recalled to his old church, where he remained mitil 1827. The project for founding a theological seminary at Alex- andria was first agitated, according to my information, in 1818. The scheme was regarded with some degree of dis- favor and suspicion by a certain party in the Church; but from the first my grandfather gave it his earnest support. He felt strongly, however, the importance of proceeding with caution and deliberation and in strict conformity to the authority of the Bishops and the Convention. He endeav- ored vainly to enlist Bishop Kemp among its supporters. Failing in this, and finding it was likely to be a source of dissension in the Church, he appears to have taken no fur- QUimefr^ in (Beorgetown. 179 ther active part in it, until the meeting of the Convention in 1822, when finding the movement could no longer be re- pressed, he used his influence to have it recognized by that body. This motion met with opposition, especially from Bishop Kemp, but, I believe, was finally carried. Although at the risk of offending a much valued friend, he could not allow his judgment or his vote to be biased by his affection in a matter which he felt to be of so much con- sequence. Bishop Kemp seems, from a letter of that date, to have felt personally aggrieved by his action. " At this time,'' writes my uncle, " he also gave what material aid was in his power to the infant institution." To Bishop Kemp. June 20th, 1 8 18. Rt. Rev. & Dear Sir : As it has been recommended by the Conventions of Mary- land & Virginia to raise funds for the education of young men for the Ministry, it is proposed by the Clergy of the District of Columbia to establish a society here for that pur- pose. There was a meeting a few days ago at which I was present. After attending to what was said on the subject I informed the gentlemen that I would give my most hearty concurrence provided it could either receive the sanction of Convention of the two states or the approbation of the Bishops, but inasmuch as these Conventions are so distant & the Desire seems to be very strong to proceed in the business immediately I recommended the latter mode, which was agreed to. It is now my most earnest request that you i8o (JOaffer ©ufang JR^Meon. will signify to me by letter immediately your Approbation to the measure provided there be no Article in the Constitution contrary to the Doctrine & Discipline of the Protestant Episcopal Church. I have many weighty reasons for being thus urgent which I can not now state to you. I should thank you if you would grant Mr. Key permission to retain his license. I am sometimes called from home and it might be an injury to shut up my church at such time. I am, Dear Sir, with high regard yrs affect'ly W. D. Addison. P. S. Do let me hear from you soon. July i2th, 1822. Rt. Rev. & Dear Sir : Your letter of the ist of June reached me only a few days ago. I am really grieved to find that you have thought proper to measure my regard for you by my vote in conven- tion. I will give you my reasons for the part I took and then you can judge whether I treated you ill or not. From all I can learn, there are certain gentlemen of this District who are determined at all events to establish a Theological school in this place. This being the state of the case, I con- ceived it my Duty to seize the first opportunity of bringing them under the authority of the Convention and thereby give a check to any rash project and prevent Disorders & Confusion in the Church. I can safely declare with you that " My conduct had in view no object but to preserve the unity and promote the prosperity of the Church." Yr sincere friend and Brother W. D. Addison. (Tllintefrj in (Beorge^own. i8i Aitg-. 1 8///, 1825. RL Rev. and Dear Sir : It always gives me pain to disagree with you in opinion, and I am sorry to find that we differ so widely in the present case. As there is no law in the Church against the Establish- ment of Diocesan Theological Schools, and as this School is under the control of the Protestant Episcopal Church of Virginia, I cannot see the evils which appear to present themselves so forcibly to yr mind. On the contrary I am under the impression that great Advantages are held out, particularly to students who are to settle in the South. As the matter presents itself thus to my mind, I could not conscientiously have acted otherwise than I have done. I send you by mail a Journal of the pro- ceedings of the last Convention of Virginia, where you will see the Report of the Board of Trustees of the Theological School of that State. When you shall have read and atten- tively observed the Progress and Regulations of the same I trust all opposition on your part will cease, and that you will immediately become one of its warmest supporters. I am Dear Sir Yrs affect'ly W. D. Addison. The Colonization Society met with his cordial support, as did the Temperance movement, which about that time began to agitate the minds of the benevolent. Bishop Meade tells us that he " from that time ceased to take even a small glass of veiy weak toddy with his dinner, as had, t'll then, been his custom." He continues: 1 82 (BaiUv ©uPanp ilbbteon. " Generous alms-giving was only one outcome of his large charity. Though outspoken against vice in the pulpit and elsewhere, no one could have been kinder, more forgiv- ing and hopeful when he saw a fault repented of; and many a troubled, newly awakened soul found through his gentle interpretation of Scripture a God of mercy, pardon and for- giveness. Not only by the sick-bed and the open grave, but at weddings and christenings, in the common pathway, around the social fireside, his people met and welcomed him, when the reverence and kindness, enjoined by such a pres- ence, in no way detracted from innocent enjoyment. He was a thorough Churchman, though no bigot, but a broad, wide-hearted Christian, abounding in human charity, recog- nizing all other true believers as kindred in spirit however divided in name. Christian unity was not then much heard of, but in all his relations to other denominations he showed a toleration and liberality which must have widened no little his benign Christian influence. Having attained ' the end of the commandments, which is charity out of a pure heart and a good conscience and a faith unfeigned,' he embraced all Christians in the arms of his wide-extending charity. He could not endure ' the unchurching doctrine,' and utterly rejected it. Just before I lived with him, an Episcopal paper was commenced at the North, in which that position was taken. On finding that it declared' all other Churches out of the covenant, he returned it and refused to receive it any longer." We have seen how, in a corner of his parish where neither he nor any of the Episcopal ministers had been able to make any impression, he had bid the Methodists " Godspeed," and QUtmetrp in (Beor^efown. 183 furnished them every assistance in building a church, hoping they might do what he had been unable to do; and how in Georgetown Dr. Balch and himself had worked together harmoniously in the Lord's vineyard, we will see that with his Roman Catholic brethren he maintained the same Chris- tian intercourse. " While living in Georgetown," says Mr. Allen, " he was also on the most friendly terms with the Roman Catholics at the convent, which I believe adjoined his house. In particular there subsisted a friendship between himself and the superior. Father Claravio, which led to a fre- quent interchange of visits and lasted till death divided them. On one occasion the good Father endeavored to induce him to unite himself with the R. C. Church. He responded that although Christian charity prevented him from waging war with brother Christians, it did not make him blind to their errors, and that he felt for his own church a warm and steady •devotion from which he could never be seduced. The prop- osition was never renewed. His charitable forbearance, however, frequently obtained for him the presence of Roman Catholic families at his church." " The Father C. alluded to by Mr. Allen," writes my uncle. Dr. Addison, ** was a French gentleman of much excellence. There was a romance connected with his history, which I will here relate. He was an ■officer in the French army, stationed at St. Domingo at the time of the negro insurrection. There he was engaged to be married to a Miss O'Rourke of that island. Her family were obliged to flee for their lives, and took refuge in Balti- more. His regiment was ordered ofif. It was while the wars of Napoleon were desolating Europe, and the rumor reached her that he had been killed in battle. Some years 1 84 (Rafter ©ufanj iliiieon. elapsed, and, yielding to the persuasions of her family, she consented to become the wife of another. Not long after this marriage the young soldier returned to claim her hand, and she, overwhelmed with despair, cast herself from a win- dow and was dashed to pieces. He then renounced the world and entered the priesthood; he was sent to this coun- try, and for many years held the office of Father Superior at the Convent in Georgetown, where he was greatly revered for his piety by that community, as well as beloved by all who knew him. In his last illness your grandfather was often beside his couch. Just before his death, when he could no longer articulate, the dying priest took my father's hand in his and pressed it with a look of ineffable tenderness. A nun standing by, and witnessing the scene, said : ' Ah, sir, you don't know how he loves you.' " " It is among the most pleasing reminiscences of Mr. Addison," writes my uncle, Wm. Meade Addison, "that he cultivated friendly relations and lived on terms of kindness with his Roman Catholic neighbors, and he remembers with gratitude the attentions of the convent to his family during the last ill- ness of a son, whose death drew from the sisterhood a letter expressing their cordial sympathy with him in his sore be- reavement. " When Mr. Vaughan was minister to this country from Great Britain he showed to the Rev. Mr. Hamburg an Eng- lish publication entitled Blanco White, an able and severe attack on the Romanists. Mr. Hamburg submitted it to the inspection of Bishop Kemp and many of the clergy of this Diocese. It was resolved to publish it, and the co-operation of Mr. Addison was requested, which he refused, believing QUtmefr^ in (B^orgefown. 185 that the measure would prove an unwise one, but above all considerations of policy was another, and a more coercive with him: that it was uncharitable and unchristian." CHAPTER XV. Gathering Clouds. 1824-1830. And now men see not the bright light that is in the clouds." N the year 1824 the inflammation in his eyes re- turned and again threatened bHndness. His daugh- ter writes : " My evenings are spent in writing for my father " ; she also mentions that he was " much depressed at the loss of $1500," which he had designed as a little portion for his third son (who was about starting in life as a lawyer and wished to go West), as it left him with- out the means of helping him. His two elder sons had been well equipped for the battle of life; he had every reason to anticipate for them a prosperous career, and he desired that this son should receive an equal portion. His anxieties, however, were relieved by the unexpected arrival of his son Lloyd, who came from Louisville in his "gig" to pay his father a visit, and took his brother back with him. He was already a prosperous merchant, and in a few years Augustus had established himself in an excellent practice. About the fortunes of these two grandsons, their grandmother Hesse- lius had, when they were boys, suffered nuich in her mind, and her apprehensions appeared to be well founded. To 6af0enng CPoube. 187 their eldest brother, then pursuing his medical studies in Philadelphia, she wrote: "I mentioned to you in my last that I had succeeded, through the instrumentality of Mr. Ridout to get $5000 dolls, made over to your sister;* it will be a little independence for her, though much below former expectations. Your father has always been of such a temper that he will not withhold any thing from his children that he can bestow, but from present prospects his fortune will scarcely hold out till your brothers are established in life. God knows best. An All Wise Providence may perhaps see best for all of you to act in a lower sphere than you had been taught to expect and that I should be mortified with the prospect." Her anxieties, however, proved needless. My uncles were all .of them, I think, men of exceptional ability. My uncle Lloyd not many years after this left Louisville for New Orleans with a capital of $100,000, and his brother Augustus, after fair success in Louisville as a lawyer, removed to Natchez, where he took a high position at the bar, and after some years retired to a large plantation across the river. Both acquired in a few years more wealth than it would have been in the power of their father to have bestowed upon them if he had retained the broad acres which he inherited. It is remarkable that my uncle Augustus, who after many years returned to Maryland, might have repurchased Oxon Hill, but preferred to buy a place on the other side of the river. Of the other children, the eldest son, Edmund Brice, from whose " Recollections " this little memoir is chiefly compiled, might have taken a high position in his profession, *This at her marriage was returned to him for his use during his life. 1 88 (pDafter 'Duian^ ilibieon. but he preferred the retirement of a country Hfe. He mar- ried a lady of some fortune, Miss Bowie, of Prince George's, to whom he was deeply attached. Their home was in Bal- timore county, but after her death he removed to Alex- andria, where he lived for years in the deepest seclusion, devoting himself entirely to his children, who, in their turn, adored him. He lived to a ripe old age, loved and honored by all who knew him. A keen sense of humor, joined to a highly cultivated mind, and a memory richly stored with anecdote, made him a charming companion, and the young particularly enjoyed his society. One of these young friends, writing of him, says: " With him passed away the one link that bound us to the people and scenes of his youth and generation. Oh those olden gentlemen! Will we ever see their like again! Their courtliness, their geutle suavity of manner to rich and poor, high and low, old and young — the grace caught from a time when birth and edu- cation marked the gentleman, rather than what he owned! In that abiding charity of his which thought no evil, he credited his friends with virtues they might hesitate to claim for themselves, and if he knew their faults he never spoke of them. His sight became totally obscured some years be- fore his death, but dreadful as was this dispensation to one of his literary attainment and habits, never was murmur heard to escape his lips. In a letter to a friend a short time before his death he says : ' From childhood to youth, from manhood to old age, I have been unusually blessed in every phase of my life.' In some verses composed after his afiflic- tion he says: <&atUvin^ €fou^0. 189 " Father of light ! though reft of outward sense, Thou givest me Faith and Hope, sweet recompense ; Through the dark Valley which must soon be trod, These lights divine will lead me home to God." To his youngest son, William Meade, life was a harder struggle, but it was because of his indifference to wealth and the extremely generous disposition inherited from his father. Whatever he possessed belonged to whoever at the time needed it more than himself. He also had ample opportu- nity of amassing a comfortable fortune if that had been his aim. He held the position of United States District Attor- ney for Maryland under three administrations, having been appointed by Pierce and retained through Buchanan's and a part of Lincoln's terms. At a meeting of the Baltimore Bar it was " Resolved that we recognize in the death of Mr. Addison the loss of a lawyer of ability and untiring in- dustry, a cultivated scholar, a zealous advocate, and a genial, high-toned gentleman." The Chair, in putting the resolu- tions, remarked that he had never known during his long professional life a more honorable, chivalric and Christian gentleman. His daughter died soon after her marriage, leaving an only child, who can truly say, that although she inherited from her grandfather only a very small independence, yet she has always possessed, together with the affection of dear friends, the advantages and enjoyments of wealth in larger measure than she could have done if she had received that portion of his estate which would have fallen to her lot. So we see that our Lord's promise, that those who despise worldly possessions for His sake " shall receive manifold 190 (Bafter ©ufan^ ilbbieon. more in this life and in the world to come life everlasting," was in her case amply fulfilled. To my grandfather himself the " manifold more " came in peace, serenity of mind and holy joy, and to his sons, for whom alone he valued wealth, in greater content than he could have given them. In thinking of him I am reminded of a picture by Murillo, which I have seen in the Louvre and which greatly im- pressed my fancy. The scene is laid in the kitchen of a con- vent, about which are disposed the materials for a feast. Flesh, fish and fowl are there; everything which could excite the delightful anticipation of the hungry monks; but the holy father, to whom the preparation of the meal has been consigned, stands in a trance; his feet are not touching the earth, his hands are clasped and his eyes raised. Lost in heavenly contemplation, he is utterly oblivious of all worldly concerns. In the meantime a bevy of little angels are busily preparing the dinner, to spare the poor monks a disappoint- ment and shield the holy man from reprimand; and so, when he returns to earth, he finds that no duty has sufifered. I have always thought Murillo's conception very touching, and that it showed his recognition of a truth which has been often verified in the experience of saintly people. My grandfather was by no means a good man of business, but his afifairs were conducted with the most rigid integrity and regard for the rights of all connected with him, and also with that charity which " thinketh no evil." An article in the "Southern Churchman" says of him: "Such a man does not often accumulate property, at least of that kind which ' moth and rust doth corrupt, and thieves break through and steal ' ; he does not always retain what he inher- BatU^in^ Cfouie. 191 ited. Mr. Addison's ancestral estate wasted away, or rather was transferred by the heavenly magic of unstinted giving to another and better country." Few men can pursue two aims successfully. Our Blessed Lord himself has de- clared that " no man can serve two masters; ye cannot serve God and Mammon.'' Therefore when he found these rival claims conflicting, there was never any hesitation which to serve, or any compromise with " Mammon." Oxon Hill was sold to Mr. Berry after Mr. Addison's removal to George- town, because he found the charge of it involved a neglect of higher duties. He also believed that a regular income from well invested money would be better for him and for his sons, who were now of an age when their education was necessarily expensive. He was often heard to say '" that to a young man a fortune was a misfortune." Yet he did not think it best that his sons should be too much restricted in their expenses, and as long as it was in his power they were amply provided for. Though it was a relief to him to be rid of its care, and he could say to a friend, " Rejoice with me, I am relieved of a great burden," it was not without a pang that he parted with his beautiful inheritance. His afifection for it was shown in his last hours, when he re- quested to be carried back there and " buried with his fathers." I have heard his management of his estate very severely criticised, but never by those whom it most nearly concerned; his children never spoke of him but with grati- tude and reverence. " What grateful emotions now swell my bosom," writes his son, Dr. A., " as memory carries me back to the many manifestations of his love. His letters always gave me assurance of the deep interest he felt in my 192 (JDafter ©ufan^ iltbieon. temporal concerns, and each one bore the impress of his greater regard for my soul. Oh! that the good seed which he has sown may not have been cast away among thorns, or scattered in stony places, to be choked or withered, but may have found a soil where the roots may strike deep and produce a hundredfold." As his pecuniary misfortunes have been by some sup- posed to be the result of a culpable negligence in his con- cerns, which was most untrue and uncharacteristic of him (for he was always methodical and painstaking in whatever he undertook), and persons generally have considered this a blemish on his otherwise spotless memory, I will give a brief glance at the true causes of his reduced circumstances. The repurchase of Hart Park just before the emancipation of his slaves, which rendered the cultivation of his lands unremu- nerative, embarrassed him. But the chief trouble was the loss of the money paid him for a valuable estate called Mt. Welby. He was induced by a banking house in George- town to receive the bonds of Robert Morris, whose great reputation as a financier as well as patriot had won the con- fidence of his fellow-citizens. The tragedy of his fall, and the ruin and distress which his failure caused to many, is well known, and my grandfather was one of the sufferers. He lost the whole amount received for this estate.* The money for Oxon Hill was also most unfortunately invested, and again another sum already mentioned. At this time his *In the Atlantic Monthly for November, 1890, I find the following in an interesting article on Robert Morris: "As early as 1772 he had considered with his fellow-merchants a scheme for establishing a bank, to be called ' The Bank of North America,' the first incorpo- (Battering Cfoube. 193 daughter speaks more than once of his depression. This and the period immediately succeeding the death of his wife were almost the only times when his uniform cheerfulness and serenity of mind were ever seen to desert him, and it was not for long. In speaking (just before its close) of his long life, he said: " I have had a hundred bright days for one dark one." In the year 1830 Mr. Addison met with a sore trial of his faith and patience in the death of his son Francis, a pathetic incident preceding which I will give in my uncle's words: ^' By his second marriage he had two sons; the eldest, whom he named Francis Key, from his dear friend Mr. Francis Scott Key, was remarkable for his beauty and intelligence. He was a youth of great promise, and was preparing himself for a cadetship at West Point, which through Mr. Key's in- rate bank on this side of the Atlantic, but had given it up on the approach of the Revolution. Now he broached the plan again. ' I mean,' he wrote Franklin, 'to render this a principal pillar of Amer- ican credit, so as to obtain money of individuals for the benefit of the Union, and thereby bind them more strongly to the general interest by the ties of private interest.' In 1781 the bank was incorporated by Congress and opened under the presidency of Willing, the partner of Morris. The notes circulated at par. Nevertheless, this was not suffi- cient. Morris having exhausted other resources, repeatedly staked his own private fortune. In this manner he facilitated the capture of Corn- wallis in September, 1781, by borrowing on his own credit a large sum from Count Rochambeau. He was able to discharge a portion of the back pay of the Continental troops, thus checking the revolt they had threatened, and enabling Washington to execute his designs on York- town. At one time his private notes, issued for the public benefit and received freely in trade, were nearly six hundred thousand dollars. When the army was disbanded he tendered his resignation as superin- 194 (H)after ©ufanp cR&i)t0on. fluence had been procured for him. My father related to me an incident which occurred the day before the illness which terminated his life. In a very pensive mood Francis was standing in front of the mantelpiece, with his head resting upon his arm, as if musing; suddenly turning around with much seriousness, he repeated from beginning to end Dr. Muhlenberg's beautiful hymn, ' I would not live alway,' which had recently been published. His manner and tone were so peculiar as to affect his father and mother to tears, and they often afterwards remembered the scene and were comforted by the remembrance." This bereavement was followed a few years after by the death of his only and be- loved daughter. Old age was coming on. Bereavement, poverty and blindness had overtaken him, and, like David, he could say, " All Thy waves and Thy storms have gone over me." tendent of finance, and the office was discontinued. No one was found to whom Congress was willing to entrust the power it had freely given to Robert Morris. " He was the most trusted friend of Washington, and held in equal honor among the people. In 1795 he retired from public life, but not from private business. In his old age he enteied into vast ventures and unexplored business enterprises. He had early become convinced that the United States was soon to experience a vast increase of population, and to anticipate this he purchased (partly in company with others) vast tracts of land, till he had become interested in over 15,000,000 of acres, and on his own account in 6,000,000 more. "But the natural development delayed its coming, and financial stress and failure soon ensued. In February, 1798, he was arrested for debt. He had failed for $3,000,000. Yet in his public character Morris resembled Washington in the rectitude of his conduct and the eleva- tion of his character, and the resemblance may have been the basis of their intimacy." — L. G. Clark. CHAPTER XVI. 1817-1830. " Nor spent his soul in idle moans, But looking upward full of grace, he prayed, and from that happy place, God's glory smote him on the face." — Tennyson. ^^.|^?2?' E know nothing of the old Addison who originally adopted the rather odd motto of this family. The memory of the " wound " and the " healing," which he thus vainly endeavored to perpetuate, is forgotten, but it could never have been more touchingly appropriate than to his venerable representative in the New World. " I bear a wound and a healing." The legend of the Addison arms has its origin in a Saxon superstition that a wound received on the field of battle could be cured by the weapon that inflicted it. 196 (gaffer ©ufanp ilbbteon. Mr. Addison's eyes became constandy worse, and were at last operated on in Philadelphia by Dr. Physic, without suc- cess. As soon as all hope of their restoration was removed, Ihe realized that he must, for their own sakes, tear himself from his beloved flock and from the church which was the first fruits of his ministry and bound to his heart by a thou- sand ties. He was not yet 60 and might have looked for- ward to many years of happy usefulness. But he realized that his ministry was over and accepted the decree (as a friend happily expressed it) " in all the dignity of entire sub- mission to God's will." Very touching, however, must have been the parting scene. His joyful service in God's sanctu- ary on earth was ended, and when the final benediction (as their pastor) to his beloved people was pronounced, and he went out from them into the darkness, those blessed words doubtless sank deep into his own soul: "The peace of God that passeth understanding keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God." The struggle was over. Henceforth peace, which nothing earthly could disturb, filled his heart while life remained, and gave a radiance to his countenance which struck all who saw him. But even after he became blind he continued to hold occasional services, and when, in 1830, the church was without a Rector, Dr. Lindsey tells us, although entirely blind, he officiated for them until some time in 1831, but without accepting any re- muneration. In 1830 his daughter writes: "Cousin B. tells me that you continue to preach in your old church, much to the satisfaction of a large and attentive congregation. I pray God you may long continue to be useful in this man- ner." I have heard that he has been known to go through (Pufttue Opemque ^tvo. i97 the whole service depending entirely on his memory, which was extraordinarily good. Some one writing at that time thus speaks of him: " Looking on this venerable man, with his hoary head and placid countenance, which bears the marks of chastening, but not of tumult or discontent, his presence seems to breathe forth the eloquent complaint of the blind bard of ' Paradise Lost ' : " Not to me returns Day with the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom or summer rose, Or flocks or herds or human face divine. But clouds instead and ever during dark Surround me, from the cheerful sight of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank, Fair nature's works to me expunged, erased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out." I will add here a few lines lately received from a dear friend who has since gone to join him in " that happy place ": " There was no appearance of blindness in those piercing eyes, so that I was surprised when told that Mr. Addison was sightless. I really think he was one of those favored mortals whose resurrection begins in this world. I have not seen him for many years, but with that same face, however glorified, I feel sure he will appear in Heaven, for it was the face of his spirit. I have imperfectly tried to give you my impressions of your sainted grandfather, whom I hope to see again in joy and felicity in the Paradise of God." After resigning his pastorship in Georgetown he retired 198 (B)after ©ufanp ilbitaott. to a very small house on Capitol Hill, where Bishop Meade says he frequently visited him, and where his simple wants were provided for by his children, who appreciated the privi- lege of being permitted to do so; but to one whose oflfice it had been " not to be ministered unto, but to minister," the great joy of whose life it had been to give of his abundance, it must have proved a strange and difficult task to adjust himself to a position so new. He has been heard to say (slightly altering St. Paul's words) : " I know how to be abased, and I have known how to abound." This was the only intimation he ever gave of what he felt on this subject. " No one ever heard him repine, and with regard to his blindness, far from murmuring, he thanked God continually, because it was ' so much better to be blind than deaf.' " To a man whose whole life had been spent in the exercise of an almost restless energy, the transition from a life of active service to one of quiet contemplation must have been pecu- liarly difficult ; but he knew it was ordered for him by an all- wise and tender leather, and he now gave his whole mind to the task of adapting himself to that new life. He did not doubt that it had its blessings and its privileges, and he would not fail to " open the windows of his soul " to receive them. With regard to the work he had so loved, he felt with Milton: " God doth not need either man's work or His own gifts ; Who best bears His mild yoke, they serve Him best : They also serve who only stand and wait." He was still God's consecrated servant, and he felt that his time was not his own. In this waiting service, as in his (Pufnus HDiptmc^vit ;^cro. 199 active ministry, he most carefully arranged his hours so that no minutes should be lost. A favorite maxim with him was, " It is better to live by rule than by random." Certain hours were set apart for devotion (and these were never violated whether at home or on a visit to his children or friends), cer- tain hours were given to society and to exercise, or to teach- ing. One of his favorite tasks was the education of a little adopted daughter, whose cleverness gave him great pleasure. He loved to watch and to guide the development of her mind. At five he began to teach her Latin, and at seven Greek, his perfect familiarity with these languages enabling him to do so without a book. Often in the Capitol grounds in sunny weather a noticeable pair might have been seen en- joying the sunshine together or sitting under the shade of the trees in the beautiful grounds — the gay child and the reverend man with the peaceful face. Often, I think, they took their lessons there. One lesson, at all events, she was taught there one day, and never forgot. ITiey had returned from their walk in the grounds, on a very warm day, a little tired, and the child was showing to a companion, with great glee, two or three bright pebbles which she had picked up. My grandfather heard the exclamations of pleasure, and in- quired what it was all about. " It is a pretty pebble, father, I found in the grounds." " But, my child, do you not see that you have taken away what does not belong to you? Go directly and put it just where you found it,' and this she was compelled to do. Referring to this part of his life. Bishop Meade says: " His fine estate, extending several miles along the east bank of the river, melted away, and at last its once wealthy proprietor was reduced to penury; to this was added 200 (^a(Uv ©ufanp dElibteon. the great affliction of increasing dimness of sight, terminat- ing in blindness. Both these evils he bore with exemplary- resignation, and both were alleviated by every attention and comfort which affection could bestow. 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. In my visits to the District afterwards, I ever felt it to be my sacred duty, as it was my highest happiness, to enter his humble dwelling. Such was the man of God with whom it was my privilege to spend some happy, and I hope, not unprofitable months." The monotony of his life was relieved by yearly visits to his children, and to dear friends who earnestly coveted the privilege of his presence. His visits to Colebrook, the home of his sister-in-law, Mrs. John Addison, he particularly en- joyed; they were congenial spirits, and the intimacy which had begun in their early youth, age had only served to strengthen. Very pleasant were their communings together on these occasions. Her daughter, Miss Addison, gives this little picture of these visits : " Your grandfather would occa- sionally make a visit at Colebrook after he became blind. I think of him oftenest as sitting by the fireside, with my dear mother, who loved to hear him discourse on religious sub- jects, and I can well imagine what a comfort it was to her, who was not so cheerful a Christian as he. I remember he was fond of repeating hymns, Watts' particularly, and the lines which made most impression on me were: " Strange that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long" — (Pufnu0 Opemque jfero. 201 alluding to our frail bodies. I am sorry I cannot remem- ber the whole verse. On one of his visits to us, Mary Shaafif was there also; she had always known him, but had never been thrown so intimately with him before, and con- sequently was surprised and delighted with him. She would kneel by his side and listen to his conversation, while he repeated passages from Paradise Lost. How interesting it was also at family prayers to hear him repeat passages from the Bible! His favorite chapter was the one on 'charity.'" Another dear friend with whom he was in the habit of passing a few weeks every year was Mr. S. Ridout, of An- napolis, his brother-in-law. They also had been friends from their boyhood. My uncle gives the following descrip- tion of him : " My father had one sister, Mary, who married Mr. Samuel Ridout, of Annapolis, one of the best of men. He was educated at Harrow, England, and with his grand- mother, Mrs. Gov. Ogle, resided several years in France. My uncle was a man of the most genuine and unaffected piety; a fine scholar, and with his mind well stored with gen- eral knowledge, he was indeed a most delightful companion. He abounded in anecdote, and the incidents and stories he would relate were always apropos of something that had been said, and were never drawn out except on fit occasions; then not to excite the boisterous laugh, but pleasant smile; something you would treasure in your memory to be called up when you were disposed to be sad. Your grandfather and he were fast friends, and the bonds which united them in life were severed only in death. He was mourned for by my father, not as lost, but gone before. Oh, is not that re- ligion worth one anxious inquiry which keeps us cheerful 202 (Bafter ©ufan^ cE^iteon. and happy amidst the turmoils and ills of life, its cares and sorrow? What can riches purchase in comparison with that peace of mind which is the good man's inheritance?" " In the year 1846 his youngest son, William Meade, mar- ried a Miss Girault, of Natchez, a very lovely woman, and soon after went to housekeeping in Baltimore. His father and mother went to live with him, taking with them their adopted daughter, but my father always continued his an- nual visits to me. My wife loved him with great tenderness, which was warmly reciprocated, and these visits were a source of great gratification to her. Children were his de- light. I ever thought he loved them because our Saviour ' took them in his arms and blessed them.' As we have be- fore said, teaching was a passion with him, and no child ever knew him but to love him. I carved letters on a shingle, and with them he taught my children the alphabet. They were hardly ever too young to begin with. He would com- mence with ' this is your hand, this is your nose, this is your chin,' and so on, touching the part. With what glee would they come every morning to say the old lesson and learn the new! They knew the hour, for he was very methodical and would never allow one duty to interfere with another. He rose early always, and after a careful toilet and his private devotions, he had a habit of taking several glasses of water. After breakfast and prayers came the children's hour. He then returned to his closet, and at twelve took his walk. As he preferred to walk alone, I had white stones placed at intervals to guide his steps, as he could distinguish them in the bright sunshine and it gave him pleasure. Then came a simple lunch of fruit, and he retired again to his room until (Pufnu0 Opeittcjue ^tm(\ut ^ito. 205 afforded us the opportunity of helping the needy. Further -than this, he esteemed them worse than dross. Had he been as most men, studious of gain, he might have looked from his window on well-stored garners and left his children rich. But think you that these things would have calmed his last moments, or eased a dying pang, or given the peace and cheerfulness which filled his heart while reason re- mained? No, certainly not. He was impulsive by nature, quick, irascible, as was acknowledged by himself. What a beautiful commentary is this upon our holy religion, that from such elements could come so much meekness and hu- mility, so much that was lovely and lovable." "It has been pleasant to follow him step by step in life; now, at the close, we must brush away the tears and follow him yet a step further, and then my pen will have completed its task." CHAPTER XVII. THE END. " Then came forth a summons for Mr. Standfast, and the Post brought it to him open in his hand ; the contents whereof were, that he must prepare for a change, for his Master was not willing that he should be so far from Him any longer." — Pilgrim'' s Progress. "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 dii^culty,' 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 ZU 6nb. 207 morning of October 19th, 1847, ^''^ 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 weeks 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 htirry 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 T 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 (H)after ©ufanp il^bieon. 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 days 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- C^e 6nb. 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 sufifering great pain, and the question was put, " Though you are willing to die, are you willing to live in your present sufferings 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 ^^^ t^^^ "^^ 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 Rafter ©ufanp ilibtoon. dark one." I never saw any display of temper but once, and that was years ago, and then the flash in his eye was Hke 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 suiTering sinner here and a glorified saint there." At the request of the Rev. . ZU 6nb. 211 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 coffin. 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 yovith, 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 t\vo 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 stieaniing from the tree, His all-atoniiig 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. .\nd pointed every thorn." " 212 ^aiUv ©ufanp ilb^teon. " Thus with a sincerity that none can doubt wrote Joseph Addison, 'the most polished 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, with a natural cheerfulness of temperament, were striking characteristics of them both. Though in a dilTerent 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 l^rilliant man of the World, on whom society lavished its honors and rewards, for whom, says Thackeray, " all the laurels of Europe were scarcely suffi- 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 ZU <£nb. 213 the duties of his holy calHiig 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 ofTer, 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 efifect 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 (Waittv ©ufanp Jlibteon. Extract fro7n Bishop Whittingham s addi^css tcj the Convention, June 1st, 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 past which we could ill aiiford 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 of 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 ZU 6ttb. 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." 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