The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1838-06-13
SELECTED TALES.
A VISIT TO THE OLD HOMESTEAD.
by WILLIAM coMsrocK.


iew himself home in the bosom of Glou
eester Forest. He was one of those irol
men that are always to be found in new
and unsettled countries. His strength wa
remarkable, and his courage was like III,
torrent which cannot be turned back. Nj,
father was a trrant lad, and left the OLE
gentleman early in life, to push his forum,
amid the throng of cities. OF course hat
but little opportunity to become acquainted
with the customs aud opinions of my aDces
tors. But even in my childhood's years,
/ frequently listened to the tales of Older
times, as narrated by my father on win
creasing family. loved to visit BurrilyilIe
as the place was called, where my age,
grandfather still welded his scyihr, 'ant
drove his team ahead > for the miracles q
chyalry would hardly have been more in
tenseiy interesting 10 my boyish mind
than were the relations of my grandfather.
achievements in the wIlds o: Burrllville.--
But never had an opportunity, of seeing
that remarkable man. He died while
was still a boy, aud left considerable
farm to my father. My uucIes and aunts,
who had settled in the neighborhood OF
Burrillyille, were already apporlioned, and
in comfortable circumstances. They pur-
sued the calling of their progenitors, but
my fathers attention was engrossed by
very different matters. He had gone out
from among thenI-hud formed acquain-
tances in the bnsy world, and was engaged
in mercantile business in the city of New
NnrI H..
boarding school in the vicinity, had little
chance of learning how the genuine farmer
lived and appeared--for in the haf-fashion-
able Inhabitants who dwell on the highly
cultivated lands, that environ a large sea-
port, you will seek in vain for The genuine
simplicity Of the back-woodsmap. But
thought had seen the country aud coun-
Try people. had formed no correct idea
of ultra rusticity. As grew up ! thought
less and less about the history of my
Rhode Island ancestors. occasionally
heard my father speak fhis farm in Bur
rilivile, and the difficulty Of procuring a
proper tenant for it, but gave myself little
concern about the matter.-On one occa-
sion my sister accompanied my father on n
visit to his farm, and when she returned
home, she had much 10 say about the
hearty welcome, and earnes, hospitality
which had been extended to her by our re-
latives in tha, quarter / was not long in
perceiying that my father was the fayorite
of lhe family, and that his rustic brothers
and sisters were both pleased and flat,ered
whenever he called upon them. The press
ing Invitations which we received were sell
dom accepted by any member of our fami-
ly, owing to The great distance from New
York to BurrillyIlle and MS the inhabitants
of the latter place seldom lef; home, there
was but little correspondence between US.
But after had reached my twenly-second
year, resolved to pay visit 10 the old nest
in which my father was nurtured.-I had
never seen any of my relations in that quar-
ter, aud scarcely knew their names =
therefore | took advantage Of the circum-
siances to visit them incog. IL was an Of
ternoon in midsummer when the stage set
me down mt public house, within two
miles of the deserted mansion of my grand
father. Wild and dark and rocky were the
woods and tbickets that passed on my
way 10 the old farm.-lhe rude dwellings
aud the ruder inhabitants struck me with
surprise. Indeed scarcely met a travel
Ter; and if, perchance, saw a rustic lean
ing over stone wall and gazing intently
at me, his garments, his attitude, and bis
whole air were SO different from any thing
that had before seen, that-I could scarce
ly pursuode myself he was not a foreigner
from some barbarous cline. was aston
haI sin .f
and other fruits, which appeared to grow
for the public good, as they were scarcely
honored with an enclosure. A wonderful
silence reigned on every side of me-a si-
lence only broken by the varied notes Of
birds, or the distant shout of some
rustic which seemed to have foaied on the
air, for some miles before 1t reached my
ear. At length, ] turned into a road,
which the foot of man or beast seldom
pressed, and before me stood the four tall
trees which had been pointed out to me at
the village as the distinguished mark of the
old homestead, The old house was before
me--the house in which my father was
born, and my grandfather reared bis family.
The spirit Of desola,ion bresthed audily
around its antique gable, the empty crib,
the broken gates, aud fallen stone walls.
Long grass was waving in the door yard
the turtle had fearIessly left the brook
10 sun himself on the doorstone. A rusty
paddock secured the floor. ! raised one Of
the windows, and sprang into the largest
roum on the Gfst door. As my feet struck
the naked boards, the empty chambers
rang fiom the gsrret TO the cellar. | saw
at a glance that the old building had not
been Inhabited for several years. There
were piles Of rubbish 10 the corners Of the
rooms, aud many rude scravI on the
walls and doors eviBced the iropuniiy with