Scenes in my Native Land/Removal of an Ancient Mansion
REMOVAL OF AN ANCIENT MANSION.
Where art thou, old Friend?
When last
This familiar haunt I past,
Thou didst seem in vigorous cheer,
As like to stand, as any here,
With roof-tree firm, and comely face
Well preserved in attic grace,
On columns fair, thine arches resting,
Among thy trees the spring-birds nesting;
Hast thou vanished? Can it be,
I no more shall gaze on thee?
Casements, whence the taper's ray
Glittered o'er the crowded way.
Where embalmed in fragrant dew
Peered the snowy lilac through,
Chimnies, whence the volumed smoke
Of thy warm heart freely spoke,
Fallen and gone! No vestige left.
Stone from stone asunder reft,
While a chasm, with rugged face,
Yawns and darkens in thy place.
Threshold! which I oft have prest,
More a habitant than guest,
For their blessed sakes who shed
Oil of gladness on my head,
Brows with hoary wisdom drest,
Saints, who now in glory rest,
Fain had I, though tear-drops fell,
Said to thee one kind farewell,
Fain with tender, grateful sigh,
Thanked thee for the days gone by.
Hearth-stone! where the ample fire
Quelled Old Winter's fiercest ire,
While its blaze reflected clear
On the friends who gathered near,
On the pictures quaint and old,
Thou of quiet pleasures told;
Knitting-bag, and storied page,
Precepts grave from lips of age,
Made the lengthened evening fleet
Lightly, with improvement sweet.
Fallen dome! beloved so well,
Thou could'st many a legend tell,
Of the chiefs of ancient fame,
Who to share thy shelter came.
Rochambeau and La Fayette
Round thy plenteous board have met,
With Columbia's mightier son,
Great and glorious Washington.
Here, with kindred minds they planned
Rescue for an infant land,
While the British Lion's roar
Echoed round the leagured shore.
He, who now where cypress weeps,
On Mount Vernon's bosom sleeps,
Once in council grave and high
Shared thy hospitality,
When the sound of treason drear,
Arnold's treason, met his ear.
Heart, that ne'er in danger quailed,
Lips that ne'er had faltered paled,
As the Judas' image stole
Shuddering, o'er his noble soul,
As he sped, like tempest's shock,
On, to West-Point's periled rock.
Beauty here, with budding pride,
Blossomed into youth and died;
Manhood towered with ruling mind,
Age, in reverent arms declined,
Bridals bright, and burials dread,
From thy gates their trains have sped;
But thy lease of time is run,
Closed thy date, thy history done.
All are vanished, all have fled,
Save the memories of the dead,
These, with added strength adhere
To the hearts that year by year
Feebler beat, and fainter glow,
Till they rest in turf below,
Till their place on earth shall be
Blotted out, old dome, like thee.
Other fanes, 'neath favoring skies,
(Blessings on them!) here may rise,
Other groups, by hope be led,
(Blessings on them!) here to tread,
Yet of thee, their children fair
Nothing wot, and nothing care;
So a form that soon must be
Numbered with the past like thee,
Rests with pilgrim-staff awhile,
On thy wreck, deserted pile,
And the dust that once was thine,
Garners for affection's shrine.
The mansion that gave a subject to the foregoing lines, was erected in 1733, by the Rev. Daniel Wadsworth, the pastor of the first congregational church in Hartford, Connecticut. It was connected with both the ecclesiastical and civil history of early times; being, while the residence of his son, Col. Jeremiah Wadsworth, the scene of frequent consultations between the officers of the American and French armies, during the war that achieved our independence. Washington, who highly valued him as a friend, was a guest in his house, when Arnold's treachery was consummated, and reached West Point, just after the flight of the traitor. The plan of the southern campaign is supposed to have been laid in one of its chambers. When La Fayette, in 1824, received the glad welcome of a country, which his youthful heroism had aided to save, vivid recollections were restored, by a visit to this abode. He was able, notwithstanding the long interval that had elapsed, accurately to describe its south front chamber, where so many important councils had been held, affecting both the fortunes of war, and the destinies of our infant nation.
This venerable dwelling was unpretending, though respectable in its exterior, and had received additions at different times, as the state of its household required. The latest erection was of several chambers in the rear, supported on heavy brick columns, through whose white rows the moonbeams, in a fine evening, had a singularly pleasing effect. The premises were surrounded by enclosures, adorned with shrubbery and trees, and by a garden of flowers, fruits, and various families of those herbs, whose friendly natures have affinity with health.
Everything in the interior of the house was adapted to promote the comfort of its inmates. During the long and cold winters, large, clear wood-fires diffused their genial warmth through all its inhabited parts, the anthracite not having then effected a lodgment. There might be seen that perfection of ancient house-keeping, which, combining liberality with a just economy, studied the convenience of all, and kept every one at their post of duty. In those times the mistress, not deeming it beneath the dignity of a lady to know how to superintend every department of her own domicile, wisely ruled all its clock-work springs, and by establishing order and punctuality, prevented that greatest of all prodigality, the waste of time.
There, in the place of his birth, the Hon. J. Wadsworth died, held in high respect as a man of noble mind and energy of character, conspicuous in camp and council, who served his country both in war and peace, at home and in foreign climes. He sustained the office of Commissary, during the greater part of the revolutionary contest, and after the consolidation of the government, took his seat in the halls of Congress. He was especially a benefactor to his native city, where his public spirit gave him great influence, and where it was his delight to aid industry and talent, struggling against the obstacles of poverty, or an obscure station.
There his sisters, whom he made happy by every proof of fraternal affection, passed their lives and departed, at an advanced age, held in affectionate remembrance by all who knew them. They were distinguished by heartfelt piety, and an integrity that influenced every word and action, by an industrious improvement of time, and fond affection for those connected with them by kindred blood. They possessed also the capacity for constant friendship, and that warm sympathy for the woes of others, which age did not quench, and which revealed itself in the moistened and tearful eye, whenever any tale of human suffering met their ear.
The same mansion was the residence of the widow of the late Col. Wadsworth, a lady who left an indelible impression on the memory of those who shared her intimacy. Her virtues having a firm root, continued to ripen and mellow to the latest hour of life. During the war, the position of her husband, as soldier and statesman, diversified her department with much care and responsibility, under the pressure of which she evinced a discretion and wisdom, competent both to execute, or to control.
As a mother, she was affectionate, and unwearied in her exertions, and to the close of her existence the wishes, hopes, and welfare of her children were interwoven with the closest fibres of her heart.
In the direction of her own affairs, as well as in her opinion of those of others, she exercised a discriminating judgment, the result of a clear mind, close observation, and grave experience. She was gifted with a native equanimity, so excellent in woman, which amid perplexing or eventful scenes, preserved her from hurry of spirits, or confusion of intellect. This, united to habits of regularity, doubtless promoted health, and longevity, and aided in the preservation of that vigor of intellect, which remained unimpaired to the last.
She revered the teachers and ordinances of religion, and made the Scriptures, with which she had been acquainted from youth, a part of her daily study. Books of high literary character, especially those of historical and theological research, were sources of unfailing delight; and she gave an example of happily combining their love, with the faithful discharge of relative and domestic duty.
Her more than fourscore years were not suffered to chill her participation of either social, or intellectual enjoyment. Her retentive memory was preserved entire, and the impressions made by passing events, or interesting authors, seemed as vivid, as those engraven at earlier periods of life. She was reading the graphic tour of a traveller in ancient climes, and speaking with animation of its varied descriptions, when the last messenger, a sudden paralysis, touched her brow, and checked the flow of utterance. A few days of gentle, and patiently endured suffering, divided the active duties of this life, from the perfect rest of another.
The mansion, thus rendered venerable by historic lore, and the memory of the sainted dead, was removed from its original site on Main Street, to Buckingham Street, in the spring of 1842. Its place is now occupied by the "Wadsworth Athenæum," thus named from grateful respect to Daniel Wadsworth, Esq., who, in addition to other liberal donations, freely gave for the public good a spot hallowed by the sacred memorials of his ancestors.
This new edifice, which is an ornament to the city, is of light, grey granite, laid in large blocks, and unhewn. Its style of architecture is Gothic, of the castellated character, massive, and with little decoration, but strongly marked by its towers and battlements.
The interior is divided by walls into three equal compartments. The principal rooms are in the second story, each seventy feet long, thirty wide, and from twenty-five to thirty in height. One of these apartments is occupied as the Library of the "Young Men's Institute," comprehending at present about 10,000 volumes; and by their reading-room, which is well supplied with European and American periodicals. Another is appropriated to the Fine Arts, containing pictures in history, landscape and portrait, with a department for sculpture; and a third accommodates the archives of the "Connecticut Historical Society," which comprise five thousand bound volumes, beside multitudes of pamphlets and manuscripts.
The "Natural History Society" has its Collections, and holds its meetings in the lower story; where are also smaller apartments for the accommodation of the various objects connected with the Institution.
May the benevolence that projected and completed this fine structure, dedicating it to those objects that elevate national character, be rewarded by the progress in knowledge, the refinement of taste, and the permanent improvement of this people, and their posterity.