Part 2

also many selections from the Iliad and Odyssey, taught her by her uncle. Her home with these dear friends was most pleasant, and she cherished the loving memory of their kindness all her life. It found expression in the name she gave to me, her first-born, of Mary Harris. She learned her business while she remained with them, and became the head woman in a large millinery establishment in Falmouth, and afterwards set up in business for herself in Camborne. My mother became a member of the Church of England, to which all her family belonged, at the age of seventeen, and so continued till near her marriage, when she united with the Wesleyan church in Camborne.

My grandfather Osler died at Simons Town, after some years' residence there. My grandmother returned to her English home, but most of the children, being married and settled in business at the Cape, made their homes permanently there, and their descendants are now living mostly in Simons Town and in Cape Town. After my grandmother's return to England, she taught for a time a school for girls; but later came to Camborne and made her home with her daughters who were in business there. Her home was with my mother till her departure for America.

While my mother remained in Falmouth, her Aunt Osler, the last of the old family, lived near her with her two daughters, and they were a great comfort to her. This Aunt Osler died in April, 1864. She was Mary Paddy Osler, the wife of my grandfather's eldest brother, Edward. Their eldest son, Edward, has descendants in Canada, with whom we have had very pleasant relations, and a daughter, Mary, was the mother of Mrs. Truran of Truro. Another son, Rev. Featherstone Osler, came out to Canada as a missionary, and became the founder of a large and influential family there. Our own relationship to them has been only lately discovered, and has been the source of much pleasure to us. Mrs. Featherstone Osler died at the age of one hundred, in 1907, a woman very remarkable and greatly beloved; and her large family of sons, including Dr. William Osler of Oxford, Hon. Justice Osler of Toronto, Britton Bath Osler, the eminent lawyer, and Mr. Edmund Osler, the financier are all distinguished in public life.

Of my mother's sisters, Susan married a Mr. Fineran of Cape Town, and had an interesting family of children. She was early left a widow. Her daughter, Mrs. Kate Divine, has written me several times, and given me interesting details of the family. One daughter went to New Zealand to live after her marriage; one son, Charles, died early. Mrs. Divine's son, Edmund, went to sea quite young, in a British ship, and coming to New York, visited us all, which was a great pleasure. Mrs. Divine is now quite an invalid, and with her unmarried daughter, Maude, lives in Plumstead, a suburb of Cape Town, very near two of her sons and their families.

Mary Ann married Mr. Sayers of Simons Town, and her children are still there. She was a very lovely character, and died about 1855, after a long and severe illness borne with great fortitude and patience. The inscription chosen for her tombstone was the same as that on my mother's: Rev. xiv: 13. Her daughter, Mrs. Eliza Storrier, has written me under date March 13, 1882, from the address: Mrs. J. E. Storrier, Patent Slip, Simons Town.

Eliza Osler married Mr. Jordan, and lived at Wynberg, Cape of Good Hope. Her husband was in good business, and they had a family of seven daughters and one son. She was also left a widow.

Philippa married Mr. William Cogill, a merchant of Simons Town, who had several children. She had three of her own--two sons and a daughter, Julia, who married a Captain Bray and went to England to live. She was left a widow with two children, in rather unpleasant circumstances. I corresponded for some time with my Aunt Philippa, and her son Arthur, who was at sea, came into the port of Boston at one time and we went to see him while in port. Aunt Philippa died February 14, 1879. She had a stroke of apoplexy and lingered for twenty-four hours, but never regained consciousness. She was a woman of lovely character, and an earnest Christian.

Julia Osler, who, with Aunt Philippa, went out to the Cape after we left England, was married there and had one child, but died early. I have not the name of her husband.

Amelia married Gilbert Williams of Falmouth, who followed the sea. She sometimes went with him, leaving her two children, Gilbert and Amelia, with her mother. The son, Gilbert, lived in Falmouth. He was an engineer, and had a large family. We visited them while in England. One daughter was named Mary Harris Dodge, for me, and one Julia Osler, for my sister Julia. My cousin Gilbert had a good mind and was well educated, but was never very successful in life. He died several years ago. His children are doing well, and are still located in Falmouth. His sister Amelia had always lived with them, being of feeble intellect and a great care. My Aunt Williams had a hard struggle in life. She was early left a widow, and her health was delicate, but she supported her family by teaching, and educated her children. Her health failed, however, and at last her reason gave way. She was for some time in the Bodmin Asylum, but later her reason returned, and she lived some years with her son, and died in Falmouth a few years ago.

Sarah, the youngest daughter, was nine years of age when the family returned from the Cape. She was adopted by her Aunt Harris and her husband, and through them received an excellent education--a thing very difficult to acquire in those days. She remained with them till their death, then went to Camborne to her sisters, and afterwards secured a situation in Truro, where she became engaged to a man much older than herself. She lost her interest in him as the time drew near for her marriage, and determined not to marry him. Hearing of a family who were going to Gibraltar and wished a governess, she at once secured the position, and after a hasty farewell to her mother, having gained her very unwilling consent, she left England in two days. This was in 1838. In 1840 she married Mr. Watson, of Edinburgh, Scotland, who belonged to the Royal Artillery. At the end of two years they returned to England, and were stationed at Woolwich, but in 1845 they removed to Edinburgh. In 1852 the discovery of gold in Australia created a rush to that colony. My Aunt Sarah with her family removed there, her husband joining in the search for gold with varying success, while she labored energetically to rear and educate her children.

She was a widow for some years before her death. Her children, of whom six lived to grow up, were a great comfort and an honor to her. They are all respectably settled in Australia. Her eldest daughter, Julia Osler, married a Mr. Thomas Sayle, and they now live at Queenscliff, Australia. My sister Julia met them in her journey to the East, in 1900, as well as another daughter, Mrs. Evans, and two sons, William and Arthur, the latter of whom has since died. My Aunt Watson died after a short illness a few years ago,--I have not the exact date. In a letter received from my Aunt Sarah, dated June 10, 1872, she thus speaks of my mother:--

"My first recollection of your mother was when we returned from the Cape. I was then nine years old. She was much occupied by business, but often on evenings she would take a walk in a quiet, beautiful lane near our home, with your Aunt Phillis and myself. In these rambles I first learned to love nature and poetry, for, to our delight, she would repeat to us choice poems which I have never forgotten. She sowed the seeds of a love of literature in my mind, which time has never effaced and which has been a solace to me in prosperity and adversity. I never think of my dear sister Jane but as the most perfect and consistent Christian I ever knew."

She also quotes from a letter written to her by my mother, August 15, 1844, in which she says:--

"Mary is smaller than our other children, but she is a kind-hearted little creature, and is able to render me many little services. I think her disposition resembles that of our dear mother. Joseph is naturally self-willed, and little Susan volatile. Ann Jane is now two years old. She is an engaging little creature, and can sing and talk remarkably well. She is named for her two grandmothers."

Of the two sons, my Uncle Stephen Osler remained at the Cape. He was for many years a teacher in the government schools. I had for some years an interesting correspondence with him. He had two sons, Stephen and Benjamin, and a very sweet daughter, Katherine Jane, who died quite young. The sons were both men of position and influence at the Cape. My uncle and his wife both died some years ago.

My Uncle Benjamin returned to England and established his business there. He lived for some years in Barnstaple, and died of apoplexy, February 3, 1864. He left two sons, both of whom were men of character. One of them, Rev. Benjamin Osler of Exmouth, afterwards became a Baptist clergyman. I have recently had a delightful correspondence with him, and my sister Susan has met him and his family. He has two sons, John Stephen and Ernest Edward, both of whom have children.

I should have inserted before a sketch of the family of my Uncle John Toy, with whom we have been more intimately connected than with any other branch of either family. My uncle married Jane Rule of Camborne, and they had four daughters and one son. The eldest, Mary Ann, married Mr. Josephus Snell. He was a builder and contractor, and had a prosperous business. They removed to London, and most of their life was spent there. They had a very pleasant home, and Mr. Snell owned several houses which he rented. They have both died within a few years. The second daughter, Amelia, married James Snell, a brother of Josephus. They had two daughters. Asenath, the elder, was adopted by her Uncle Josephus, as they had no children of their own. She married Edward Brundell, and their home was in London. Louisa, the younger, always lived with her parents. My cousin Amelia died quite suddenly about two years ago. Jennefer married Philip Morshead of Camborne. They had two children: a son, John, who has always been a teacher, and a daughter, Annie Davis, who has been also a very successful teacher. My cousin Jennefer was a little older than myself, and was very fond of us as children before we left England. She was a favorite of my mother, and I always corresponded with her occasionally. Both she and her husband have recently died. Jane, the youngest, married John Gilbert, since captain of one of the large mines, and a man of much intelligence and influence. He has made several visits to America in the interest of the mines, also he was sent to India, where he was employed for two years by the mine-owners. They have a pleasant home in Camborne and three fine children: two sons, Arthur and Bertie, who are both in business, and Leonora, a sweet girl who is soon to be married to a Wesleyan minister.[2] The only son, John Toy, was not as successful as the rest. He came to America, and went from here to Australia, where he died some years ago.

I wish also to mention the family of my aunt, Mrs. Mary Ann Sims. She was my father's only remaining sister when we visited England in 1882. She was then living with her daughter, Mrs. Arthur, in Camborne, and was about eighty years of age. She was a lovely old lady, petite in figure, exquisitely neat in dress, her face beaming with kindness from beneath one of the snowy caps with which her grandson, Johnnie Arthur, delighted to keep her supplied. She was greatly beloved by her grandchildren, and the pet of all the nieces and nephews. She reared a large family of children, who are widely scattered. One son has long lived in Norway, and is the father of Joseph Sims of Simsbury, Connecticut. One is the Rev. James Sims[3] of Council Bluffs, Iowa, who was for many years a Methodist minister in Wisconsin. Reverend and Mrs. James Sims celebrated the sixtieth anniversary of their marriage in 1907, when they were both over eighty. They had ten children, of whom seven are still living, Mrs. Mary Bainbridge being best known to us. Two sons and two daughters are living in England.

My Aunt Sims had a cosy cottage at Carwinning, in the country, a few miles from Camborne; and it was one of my mother's chief pleasures to take her little children to this pleasant country home, where we were always cordially welcomed and treated to the best of Cornish cream and gooseberry pasties. It was a pleasant relief from her busy and confining life in the shop where she personally superintended her millinery business.

My father lived, for over five years after his marriage, in Camborne, holding the position of principal of the Lancastrian School, and making himself very useful as local preacher and class-leader in the Wesleyan church. Three children were born to them in these happy days of their early married life. I was the first-born, and was ushered into life October 31, 1834, at about 8 o'clock in the morning. I have often heard my father speak of the joy he felt when I was placed in his arms for the first time. The second was my brother Joseph, born July 23, 1836, a bright, active boy, who made life busy for those who had the care of him. Then came my sister Susan, born June 3, 1838. She was the household pet when we turned our faces from the dear old home to seek a new one in a land of strangers. This great change which now came into our family life was in connection with the introduction of the manufacture of safety fuses into America. The firm, having an established and lucrative business in England, naturally sought to enlarge and extend it, and America was considered an inviting field for the new industry.

About this time Mr. Richard Bacon of Simsbury, Connecticut, was travelling in England in the interest of copper-mining, which was then carried on at the old prison in East Granby, Connecticut, known as Newgate. He met with the firm of Bickford, Smith & Davey, and they determined to make an effort through him to introduce their business into America. The first attempt was accordingly made at the old prison, with some success. It had been transferred to Simsbury, and was in successful operation there, when, in the summer of 1839, my father, who was well and favorably known to the firm, and had been greatly encouraged and befriended by Mr. Smith and Mr. Davey, and in their employ, received from them an offer of a position as bookkeeper in the American establishment, which was known as Bacon, Bickford & Co., with what was for those days a good salary. The accounts of the new branch were confused and unsatisfactory, and the company desired to have accurate statements rendered. It was a fine opening for the future for my father, as was proved a few years later when he became a member of the firm of which he was afterwards the head.

This startling proposition brought a season of anxious thought and prayerful consideration into the little home. My mother was well established in her business; her mother and two sisters were with her; her love for her English home and friends was deep and true; and she shrank with all the force of her loving nature from the separation. The journey was long and trying. No ocean steamers made the voyage a pleasant pastime of a few days. Long weeks of tossing on the stormy ocean were to be followed by the search for a new home in a land of strangers. But with my mother the voice of duty was always the voice of God. The prospects of a wider field for her husband, and enlarged opportunities for her children, were not to be neglected. Her decision was made, and saying, as did Ruth, "Where thou goest, I will go," she bravely put away the arms of love which would have held her back, and set herself to the task of closing her business and arranging for her journey. At length the preparations were over. The last farewells were said to the dear little home, to the church they loved and had served so faithfully, and to the dear ones from whom it was so hard to part. The van laden with luggage for the voyage, with space reserved for the family, was ready to start; and amid the tears and prayers of those who loved them, the dear old home faded forever from the eyes of my father and mother.

The first stage of the journey was to Falmouth, my mother's early home, where we remained for a rest of a day or two with my mother's sister, Mrs. Williams. Pleasant days they were, of loving sisterly communion. The children, wild with the excitement of the new experience, were eagerly spying out the wonders of the city, in company with their cousins. My brother Joseph, a bold, adventurous little fellow of scarcely three, wandered off one day, to the great anxiety of his mother. He was found, after a long search, by my aunt, gazing intently into the mysteries of a rope-walk. Seeing his aunt, he exclaimed, eagerly, "Oh, here comes Aunt Philippa! Now we'll go through the gate!"

These pleasant days soon passed, and with renewed good-byes, we left for Portsmouth, from which port we were to sail. A vexatious delay of some days was experienced there, but at last the good ship spread her sails and stood off down the harbor. With tearful eyes they stood on deck and watched the receding shores of their dear native land fade from their sight. Then, with new devotion to each other and to the God who was leading them, they turned with hope and courage to the new life opening before them.

For six long weeks the vessel ploughed its way over the heaving sea. My father was almost immediately prostrated by sea-sickness, and for most of the passage was confined to the stateroom, unable to render any assistance in the care of the family. My mother bravely rose to the emergency, caring for her sick husband and the restless children, and bearing the weariness and discomfort of the voyage without a murmur. My brother Joseph, being of an inquiring mind and full of restless energy, was constantly wandering about the ship, exploring every new place, talking with the sailors, trying to climb the ropes, and requiring unceasing vigilance to keep him from harm. Little Susan, then just past her first birthday, learned to walk on board the ship, and one of her first exploits in climbing about was to upset a teapot of hot tea into her bosom, making a bad scald of which she carries the scars to this day, thus adding much to the care and anxiety of her mother.

At last the weary weeks wore away, and their eyes were gladdened by the sight of land. On the eighteenth of August, 1839, they made safe anchor in the harbor of New York. From there an easy sail by the Sound brought them to Hartford. Once more the luggage was mounted on a heavy wagon, with space reserved for the family, and they were off on the ten-mile drive over the mountains to Simsbury, their place of destination.

As the afternoon was wearing away, they came to the top of the high hill rising abruptly at the eastern end of the street of East Weatogue, where their journey was cut short by the breaking down of the wagon. The prospect which opened before them was beautiful indeed. The little village which was to be their home nestled at the foot of the mountain range, while fertile meadows stretched away in the distance, through which the Farmington river with its wooded banks wound its peaceful way, the horizon bounded by the range of mountains west of the town. It was a lovely picture, but the way-worn travellers could not realize its beauty, as they alighted from the broken wagon, and took their weary way down the hill to the village, leaving the driver to repair the wagon and follow later. My mother, walking on, came to a hospitable-looking home and ventured to ask a drink for the tired children. A pleasant-faced matron greeted them kindly, invited them in to rest, and offering my mother a cup of tea, proceeded to regale the hungry children with bread and molasses. This was their first welcome to their new home. My mother rejoiced to find that her new friend was from the dear home land, also that her husband was in the employ of the same firm. They became lifelong friends, and in sickness and in health it was their delight to show a sisterly kindness to each other. This good woman was "Auntie Whitehead," a warm friend of our family, who has since joined my mother in the heavenly home.

At last, as the evening shadows were falling, the heavy wagon came slowly down the mountain, and we were lodged in our first home in America. It was an old-fashioned New England house, with long sloping roof and lean-to running down behind. It is still standing and in fair repair, just opposite the Cornish house, which stood by the old schoolhouse in East Weatogue. One half the house was occupied by the family of Mr. Joseph Eales, who was a member of the firm. We remained there for a time, and afterwards removed to the house standing where Mr. Aman Latimer's house now stands. But, desiring a more permanent home, my father bought the farm owned by Mr. Roswell Phelps, lying just at the foot of the mountain. It is now owned by Mr. Henry Ensign. My mother rejoiced to feel that at last her wanderings were over and she was settled in a home of her own.

How plainly I can see it now! The plain house with its gambrel roof and double front-doors kept secure by a stout oak bar resting in sockets of iron; the narrow front hall, the family sitting-room on one side, with the east door opening on the grassy yard; and the wide stone steps, our only piazza. The parlor was on the west of the hall, with its ingrain carpet and plain furniture, which then seemed quite fine to my childish eyes. The best bed standing in the corner with the heavy English counterpane was one of the conspicuous features of the room. Behind was the long kitchen with its great fireplace, my mother's bedroom at one end, and a smaller one for the children at the other. Plain and simple, indeed, and even bare as compared with the homes of these days, as was this home of our childhood, it was "sweet home" to us, for it was bright with the love that made our lives all sunshine, and peace and contentment were our constant guests.

Two large buttonwood trees stood at the front gate, up to which led some stone steps. By the street was an open shed under which wagons could drive, and beyond was the garden with the great apple tree at the top of it, flanked by peach trees, whose fruit was "sweet to our taste." Behind the house was the well with its long sweep and its "oaken bucket," which was our only refrigerator. It sometimes befell that a luckless pail of cream or butter fell to the bottom. Then one of the children was despatched in haste over the fields to borrow neighbor Bissel's iron creepers, and great was the excitement as we watched the grappling which surely brought up the pail, if not always the contents. There, too, was the old pear tree, in the back garden, whose fruit was so delicious as we ran out in the early morning to gather what had fallen during the night; and the orchard with its long grass, often trampled in our hasty search for the "golden sweets" which strewed the ground. The hill rising at the back of it was crowned with the fine spreading chestnut trees, which were such a joy to us in the autumn when the frost had opened the burs and strewed the brown nuts on the ground. Behind the house was the barn, with the cow which we early learned to milk, and the white horse which carried the family to church on Sunday, and my father on his semi-weekly journeys to the post office in Hopmeadow. For daily mails were unknown in the peaceful valley then. The yellow stage rumbled through the streets on its semi-weekly trip from Hartford and was hailed with joy as a messenger from the great world beyond.