The story of a summer ; or, Journal leaves from Chappaqua

Front matter

THE

Story of a Summer;

JOURNAL LEAVES

Chapter I. Page

Return to Chappaqua— A Walk over the Grounds — The Side-hill House — Our First Sunday at Chappaqua — Drive to Mount Kisco — A Country Church — A Dame Chatelaine — Our Domestic Surroundings 13

CHAPTER 11.

Arrival of the Piano — Routine of a Day — Morning Toilettes — The Dining-room — Pictures — Ida and Gabrielle — How occupied — The Evening Mail — Musical Evening 21

Chapter III

An Unexpected Visit — Morning Drives — Gabrielle's Ponies — A Repulsive Object — A Visitor — The King of Sweden's Soup — Advantages of a Royal Kitchen — Startling Experience — Ida's Letters — Strange Contents — A Lucky Stone — Request for a Melodeon — Offers of Marriage — Arrival of a Suitor — Reasons why he should marry Ida Greeley — He proves a Lunatic — He is taken before a Magistrate — He is lodged in the County Jail 28

Chapter IV

A Visit from Papa — A Musical Squirrel — Letters — Croquet — Extracts from Letters — Visitors — The Loss of the Missouri — The True Story of Ida's Engagement 46

Chapter V

Sunday in the Country — Proximity of a Meeting-house — How we pass our Sundays — The House in the Woods — Ida's Glen — Mrs. Greeley's Favorite Spring — The Children's Play-house — Gabrielle's Pets — Travelling in 1836— New York Society — Mr. Greeley's Friday Evenings — Mrs. Greeley as a Bride — Her Accomplishments — A Letter concerning Mr. Greeley's Wedding 58

CHAPTER VL

Visitors — Our Neighbors — The Chappaqua Croquet Club lO Contents.

PAGR

— Gabrielle's Letter — A Riding Party— Summer Heat

— The Music-room — Friends from the City 74

Chapter VII

Midsummer Day — An Artist's Visit — Ida's Letter — ■ Moonlight on Croton Lake — Morning Readings — Plato and Kohlrausch 81

Chapter VIII

Story-telling — Mr. G-reeley's Father — His Personal Appearance — His Education — A Fine Voice — Mr. Greeley's Mother — A Handsome Woman — How she is remembered in Vermont — Field Labor — Bankruptcy — A Journey to Vermont — School Days — The Boy Horace — How he entertained his Playmates — His First Ball — Separation from his Family 87

CHAPTER IX A Picnic at Croton Dam — The Waterworks — A Game of Twenty Questions — Gabrielle as a Logician — Evangeline's Betrothal— Marguerite's Letter — Description of Chappaqua — Visitors — Edmonia Lewis 100

Chapter X

Catalogixing the Library — A Thousand Volumes — Contrasting Books — Some Rare Volumes — Mr. Greeley's Collection of Paintings — Authenticity of the Cenci Questioned — A Portrait of Galileo — Portrait of Martin Luther — Portrait of Mr. Greeley at Thirty — Powers' Pros'^rpine — Hart's Bust of Mr. Greeley — Mosaics and Medallions Ill

Chapter XI

The Fourth of July — A Quaker Celebration — The House in the Woods — Mrs. Greeley's Life there — Pickie — Mary Inez — Raffie — Childhood of Ida and Gabrielle — Heroism of Mrs. Greeley — The Riots of 1868 — Mrs. Greeley defends her House against the Mob. . . 125

CHAPTER XIL Pen Portraits — Lela — Majoli — Guerrabella and Celina—

Their Characteristics 135

Chapter XIII

Biography of Mr. Greeley — Gabrielle' s Questions —

Contents. 1 1

PAGE

Mrs. Cleveland's Corrections — The Boy Horace not Gawky, Clownish, or a Tow-head — His Parents not in Abject Want — Mr. Greeley's Letter about his Former Playmates — Young Horace and his Girl Friends — He Corrects their Grammar and Lectures them upon Hygiene — He disapproves of Corsets 142

Chapter XIV

The Morning Mail — A Letter to Mrs. Cleveland — Strange Contents — Ida's Letter Bag — Appeals for Money, for Clothing, and for her Hand — An Original Letter from a Trapper 153

CHAPTER XY.

Life in the Woods of Pennsylvania — Journey from Vermont to Pennsylvania in 1820 — Travelling on Canal-boats — Incidents by the Way — Home in the Wilderness — Aggressions of Bears and Wolves 167

Chapter XVI

A Birthday — A Surprise — The Day celebrated by a Dinner — An Awkward Mistake — A Queen of Fashion — A Drive to Tarrytown — A Poem to Ida 181

Chapter XVII

Gabrielle and her Embroidery — Life in Pennsylvania continued — Sugar-making — Horrible Incident — A Woman devoured by Wolves — A Domestic Picture — Evening Readings — The Library of Mr. Greeley's Father — Mr. Greeley's Mother intellectually considered — Her Education — Mr. Greeley's Eldest Sister — She teaches School at the Age of Twelve 189

Chapter XVIII

Visitors — A Sunday Drive — Croton Lake by Daylight — A Sail — A Sudden Squall — Anxiety about our Fate — Miraculous Escape from Drowning — Arrival of a Pretty Cousin— A ChUd Poetess 204

Chapter XIX

Mr. Greeley visits his Family in Pennsylvania — He expounds Mathematics and Philosophy to his Brother and Sisters — Fishing and Bee Hunting — Forest

12 Contents.

PAGE

Fires — A Subsequent Visit — He returns as Editor of the Neio Yorker — He writes the ' Faded Stars ' — Characteristics of Mr. Greeley's Brother — His Children — Mr. Greeley's Younger Sisters — Their Education 313

Chapter XX

A Quiet Household — Absence of Marguerite and Gabrielle — Amusing Letters from them — A Gypsy Fortune-teller — Marguerite returns with a Visitor — The Harvest Moon — Preparing for Company — Arranging the Blue Room — Intense Anticipation — " ' He Cometh Not,' She Said " 226

Chapter XXI

The Story of Mr. Greeley's Parents continued — He accompanies his Mother to New Hampshire — Her Sisters — Three Thanksgivings in One Year — Pickie as a Baby — His Childhood — Mrs. Greeley's Careful Training — His Playthings — His Death — A Letter from Margaret Fuller 236

CHAPTER XXII The Friends' Seminary — The Principal Chappaqua Residences — Reminiscences of Paris during the War — An Accomplished Lady — Her Voice — Festivities — A Drive to Rye Lake — Making Tea on the Beach — A Sail at Sunset — Fortune -telling by Firelight — The Drive Home — Sunday Morning — A Row on the Pond — Dramatic Representations in the Bam — A Drive to Lake Wampus — Starlight Row 247

CHAPTER XXIIL Marriage of a Cousin — A Pretty Bride — Letters — Home Circle Complete — A Letter of Adventures — Wedding Cards — A Musical Marriage — Housekeeping under Difficulties — Telegraphic Blunders — A Bust of Mr. Greeley — More Visitors 258

CHAPTER XXIV.

"All that's Bright must Fade " — Departures — Preparing the House for the Winter— Page's Portrait of Pickie — Packing up — Studious Habits of the Domestics — The Cook and her Admirers— Adieu to Chappaqua. . 266

THE STORY OF A SUMMER

OR,

JOURNAL LEAVES FROM CHAPPAQUA.

Chapter I

Return to Chappaqua — A Walk over the Grounds — The Side-hill House — Our First Sunday at Chappaqua — Drive to Mount Kisco — A Country Church — A Dame Chatelaine — Our Domestic Surroundings.

Chappaqua, Westciiester Co.,

New York, May 28, 1873

Again at dear Chappaqua, after an absence of seven months. I have not the heart to journalize to-night, everything seems so sad and strange. What a year tliis has been — what bright anticipations, what overwhelming sorrow !

14 A Walk.

May 80.

I have just returned from a long ramble over the dear old place; first up to the new house so picturesquely placed upon a hill, and down through the woods to the cool pine grove and the flower-garden. Here I found a wilderness of purple and white lilacs, longing, I thought, for a friendly hand to gather them before they faded ; dear little bright-eyed pansies, and scarlet and crimson flowering shrubs, a souvenir of travel in England, with sweet-scented violets striped blue and white, transplanted from Pickie's little garden at Turtle Bay long years ago.

Keturning, I again climbed the hill, and unlocked the doors of the new house ; that house built expressly for Aunt Mary's comfort, but which has never yet been occupied. Every convenience of the architect's art is to be found in this house, from the immense, airy bedroom, with its seven windows, intended for Aunt Mary, to a por^e cochere to protect her against the inclemency of the weather upon returning from a drive. But this house, in the building of which she took so keen an interest, she was not destined to inhabit, although with that buoyancy of mind and tenacity to life that characterized her during her long years of weary illness, she contemplated being carried into it during the early days of last October, and even ordered fires to be lighted to carry ofl" the dampness before she tried her new room. By much persuasion,

Going to Church. 15

however, slie was induced to postpone her removal from day to day ; and finally, as she grew weaker and weaker, she decided to abandon that plan, and journey to New York while she could. In two weeks more she had left us forever.

June 1.

Our first Sunday at Chappaqua. We have a little church for a next-door neighbor, in which services of difierent sects are held on alternate Sundays, the pulpit being hospitably open to all denominations excepting Papists. Three members of our little household, however — mamma. Marguerite, and I — belong to the grand old Church of Rome ; so the carriage was ordered, and with our brother in religion, Bernard, the coachman, for a pioneer, we started to find a church or chapel of the Latin faith. At Mount Kisco, a little town four miles distant, Bernard thought we might hear Mass, " but then it's not the sort of church you ladies are used to," he added, apologetically ; " it's a small chapel, and only rough working people go there."

I was quite amused at the idea that the presence of poor people was any objection, for is it not a source of pride to Catholics that their church is open alike to the humblest and richf^st ; so with a suggestive word from Bernard, Gabrielle's spirited ponies flew

" Over the hills, aaid far away."

1 6 Whit- Sunday.

A. perpetual ascent and descent it seemed — a dusty road, for we are sadly in want of rain, and few shadetrees border the road ; but once in Mount Kisco, the novelty of the little chapel quite compensated for the disagreeable features of our journey there. A tiny chapel indeed — a plain frame building, with no pretence to architectural beauty. It was intended originally, I thought, for a Protestant meeting-house, as the cruciform shape, so conspicuous in all Catholicbuilt churches was wanting here. The whitewashed walls were hung with small, rude pictures, representing the Via Crucis or Stations of the Cross, and the altar-piece — not, I fancy, a remarkable work of art in its prime — had become so darkened by smoke, that I only conjectured its subject to be St. Francis in prayer.

Although it was Whit-Sunday the altar was quite innocent of ornament, having only six candles, and a floral display of two bouquets. The seats and kneeling-benches were uncushioned, and the congregation was composed, as Bernard said, entirely of the working class; but the people were very clean and respectable in their appearance, and fervent in their devotions as only the Irish peasantry can be.

The pastor, an intelligent young Irishman, apparently under thirty, had already said Mass at Pleasantville, six miles distant, and upon arriving at Mount Kisco he found that about twenty of his small con-

The Parish Priest. 17

gi'egation wished to receive Communion, as it was a festival ; consequently, he spent the next hour not literally in the confessional, for there was none, but in the tiny closet dignified by the name of a vestry. From thence, the door being open, we could with ease, had we had nothing better to do, have heard all of the priest's advice to his penitents.

This ceremony over, the young Father came out in his black cassock, and taking up his vestments which lay upon the altar-steps, he proceeded with the utmost nonchalance to put them on, not hesitating to display a long rent in his surplice, and a decidedly ragged sleeve.

The Mass was a Low one, and the congregation

were too poor to have an organ or organist. Quite a

contrast to a Sunday at St. Stephen's or St. Francis

Xavier's, but the Mass is always the same, however

humble the surroundings.

June 3.

We are unusually fortunate, I think, in our domestic surroundings. Servants are proverbially the hete noire of American ladies, and the prospect of having to train some unskilled specimens of foreign peasantry weighed heavily, I fancy, upon our beautiful Ida in her new responsibility of a young Dame Chdtelaine. However, we have been, as I said, singularly successful in obtaining servants.

To my great delight, there is not one ugly name in our

1 8 OiLV Household.

little household, although composed of eight members, commencing with Queen Esther, as mamma has been named ; then we four girls — la Dame Chatelaine, with her fair face, dark, pensive eyes, and modest dignity ; Gabrielle, or Tourhillon, our brilliant pet, and the youngest of our quartette, although her graceful figure rises above the rest of us ; my sister Marguerite, la Gentille Demoiselle j and I, Cecilia.

Then come the household retinue : Bernard, the coachman, already introduced, a smart-looking young Irishman, whom the maids always find very beguiling ; Lina, the autocrat of the kitchen, a little, wirylooking woman from Stockholm, formerly cook, so she says, to King Charles of Sweden; and Minna, the maid.

Minna is a pretty young Bavarian, who has been only fifteen days in the Land of Liberty, br.t she has already learnt, I am amused to see, not to address a lady as ** gnddige Frau," or " Fraulein " — a style of address imperative in South Germany from a maid to her mistress. Minna has not, however, imbibed all of the democratic principles that will, I fear, come to her only too soon, for she has not yet learnt to emulate her mistress in dress. It is really quite refreshing to see a servant dressed as a servant. Minna is the perfection of neatness, and her plain stuflf or print gowns are sans reproche in their freshness. In the matter of aprons she must be quite reckless, for they

Our Bavarian Maid. 19

always look as if just from the ironing-table. They are made, too, in an especially pretty fashion that I have never before seen out of Munich. Scorninfr chignons, Minna appears with her own luxuriant hair in massive braids wound about her well-shaj^ed head, and as to-day is Sunday and a Fest-tag, she adorns herself with a large shell-comb. She has very pretty, coquettish ways, that have already melted the lieart of our hitherto unsusceptible Bernard, and it is quite charming to hear her attempts to converse with him in her broken English.

Minna came to me this morning directly after breakfast, and said, " Where shall I go to church, Friiulein Cecilia ? "

" I do not really know, Minna," I replied. " You are a Lutheran, I suppose ? "

" Yes, Fraulein Cecilia."

" There is no church of that sort here," I said, " but there is a Reformed Church next door."

With a very doubtful expression, she said : " I will see, Fraulein. And hitte, is not the Pfingsten a Fest-tag in America ? In our country, you know, it is more than Sunday, and the people always amuse themselves."

I explained to her as clearly as I could, that Pfingsten (Whit-Sunday) was only a Fest-tag in her churcli, mine, and the Church of England, and that it was never in this country a Fest-tag, outside of the religious observance.

20 PJingsten.

A very perplexed face was the result of my explanations ; why Pfingsten should not be Pfingsten the world over, and a public holiday with all sorts of merry-makings, she could not understand.

Chapter II

Arrival of the Piano — Routine of a Day — Moming Toilettes — The Dining-room — Pictures — Ida and Gabrielle — How occupied — The Evening Mail — Musical Evenings.

June 4.

Yesterday the piano was sent \ip from Stein way's, where it has been stored since last fall, and now we have all settled to our different occupations, and are as methodical in the disposition of our time as though we were in school.

None of us are very early risers, for mamma, who should naturally set us a good example, has been too long an invalid to admit of it, and we girls have become habituated to the luxury of breakfasting in bed, from residence abroad and in the tropics. Not that we breakfast in bed at the " Villa Greeley," however ; we are much too sociable, and our dining-room is too attractive, for that. But we gratify our taste for reasonable hours by assembling around the table at half-past eight.

" Shocking ! " I fancy I hear Katie exclaim. " I breakfast at least two hours earlier. How can you bear to lose so much of the beautiful morning ? "

Don't imagine, dear Katie, that I sleep till half-

22 Early Rising,

past eight : you must know the wakeful temperament of our family too well for that. I find it, however, very poetic and delightful to listen to the matins of the robins, thrushes, and wrens, from my pillows; and by merely lifting my head I have as extended a panorama of swelling hills and emerald meadows, as though promenading the piazza.

I have been in my day as early a riser as any one — even you, dear Katie, have not surpassed me in this respect ; for you recollect those cold winter days when I arose at *' five o'clock in the morning," not, however, to meet Corydon, but to attack the Gradus ad Parnassum of Clementi by gaslight, in my desire to accomplish eight hours of practice undisturbed by visitors. At seven, however, I used to meet with an interruption from my German professor. Poor man ! I now pity his old rheumatic limbs stumbling over the ice and snow to be with me at that unreasonable hour of the morning. But I then was ruthless, and would not allow him even five minutes grace, for my time was then regulated like clockwork, and a delay of a few moments would cause an unpardonable gap in my day. Now, however, that my education is nominally finished, I feel that I may without selfreproach indulge in some extra moments of repose, for it is impossible for one to work all the time ; and a quiet hour of reflection is often, I think, as useful as continual reading or writing.

Morning Toilettes. 23

We indulge in very simple morning toilettes here, as we have no gentleman guests for whom to dress, nor ladies to criticise us; consequently a few brief moments before the mirror suffice to make us presentable. A black print wrapper made Gabrielle-fashion, with our hair brushed off plain from our faces, and flowing loosely a la helle saiivage, or in cool braids, is the order of the day. Even Marguerite, who is the most conventional of our quartette, has conformed to the fashion reigning here, and no longer coiffed in the stylish Imperatrice mode, her sunny brown hair floats over her shoulders unconfined by hair-pins, cushions, or rats. Truly we live in Arcadian simplicity, for under our roof there are neither curling nor crimping irons, nor even a souj^on of the most innocent poudre de riz.

At half-past eight a little hand-bell, silver in material and tone, summons us to the breakfast-room. This room is on the gi'ound floor, and is one of the prettiest in the house. Four windows give us an extended view of our Dame Chatelaine's sloping meadows and wooded hills, and the carriage road winding off towards the pine grove and the house in the woods. We have several pictures on the walls — first a portrait of my dear uncle ; a boyish face with fair hair, deep blue eyes, and an expression angelic in sweetness. No one would imagine it to be the face of a married man, but it was painted, mamma says, when

24 Pictures.

he was thirty years old. Two large and admirable photographs, taken early last summer, hang opposite it. A striking contrast they are to the pensive, fragile, blonde boy ; these are impressed with the vigor and mental and physical activity of his busy life, but the broad intellectual brow, and the almost divine expression that plays about the mouth, are the same in each. An engraving from a picture by Paul Delaroche, the Archangel Gabriel — the "patron," in Catholic parlance, of our little Gabrielle — hangs between the windows, and over the comfortable sofa is a copy of Liotard's celebrated pastel " la belle Chocolatiere " in the Dresden Gallery. This copy Aunt Mary bought in that city when there some years ago, and it is considered wonderfully fine. "Very pretty and coquettish she looks in her picturesque Vienna dress, with the small, neatly-fitting cap, ample apron, and tiny Louis Quinze shoes. In her case

'' My face is my fortune," was exemplified, and so pretty and modest is her demeanor that it is no wonder that Count Dietrichstein, haughty nobleman though he was, married her. She is very different, however, from the chocolate vendors whom I have seen in the streets of Paris. I don't think a nobleman would ever raise one of them. from their original station, for they are as a rule past fifty, and ugly and withered as only a Frenchwoman of that age can be.

Routine of a Day. 2$

Breakfast is followed by a turn upon the piazza, a little stroll to the spring, near which delicious wild strawberries nestle in a background of sweet clover, bright buttercups, and field daisies, or a game of croquet under the grand old oak-trees

"After the sun has dried the dew." Then we separate, each to our own room, and our different occupations.

Ida is very busy now, for she is preparing a volume for publication in the fall — her dear father's manuscript lectures and letters.

Gabrielle throws herself upon a sofa, and lies there motionless, absorbed in the fascinating pages of some favorite book ; indeed, she is so quiet that in my periodical fits of tidiness I often seize a print or bombazine frock, thrown, as I suppose, carelessly upon the bed or sofa, and only by its weight do I discover that it is animated. Last year, Gabrielle's favorite site for reading was in the dear old apple-tree close beside the house; but since she has attained tlie dignity of sixteen and train dresses, she has abjured the apple-tree.

Marguerite is translating a volume from the German, Musikalische 3Idrche7i, and I divide my time between the piano and occasional newspaper articles.

But it is already one o'clock and dinner hour. The afternoon passes much like the morning. We have letters to write, and much reading aloud. I have two books in progress — Plato's " Dialogues," and

26 Musical Evenings.

Madame de Stael's incomparable " Germany : " the latter I read aloud while in Munich, hut it is a work that cannot be too often studied.

At half-past six we dress and go down to the post-office (about a hundred yards distant) for the evening mail. Half an hour later we sup, and then follows, as L. E. L. would say, " a struggle and a sacrifice." What could be more delicious than a game of croquet, or a drive in the cool twilight? But Chappaqua, lovely though it is, possesses a malaria that is dangerous after sunset, they say, and much as I love to drive when Nature is bathed in the last ruddy flush of day, and during the soft gray hour that succeeds it, I must heed the prediction of cliills to all who indulge.

The evening is always devoted to music. Both Ida and Gabrielle are very fond of the piano, and Ida is rapidly becoming quite proficient in the divine art. She commenced the study of music when a little child, under an excellent teacher, and also took lessons while in boarding-school ; but one studies the piano under difficulties while in the routine of a pensionnat^ for the hour devoted to it must be taken from one's recreation time, or from some other lessons. Our friends will remember, too, that dear Ida was taken out of school while yet very young, to become the devoted nurse that she has since shown herself to her mother, and from the time she left the Sacre Gceur until this spring she has never opened the piano. Now, however, she

Gabrielle s Studies. 27

practises regularly and conscientiously, and brings to her music all the enthusiasm of her loving nature, and the intelligence of her suj)erior mind; consequently, when her fingers are well trained, I shall expect to see her a thoughtful and brilliant pianist.

Gabrielle is still in the tedious preliminary steps, for Geometry and Latin, rather than the Hhytlime des Doigts and the Ecole de la Velocite, have hitherto engaged her attention ; but time will show.