The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1877-06-16
LETTERS FROM THE PEOPLE
For The Cecil Wing
Quilp's Diary, that He Kept rs a Bohemian.
He Goes to Still Valley and ROwlandSviIIe.
THIS COLUMN Is OPEN TO ALL.

From William II. Balderston's, on the
".TW Iatey" and the "Tnjn Rocks " are
located, we had view of J ohm p Bladder
ston's place and across the Octoraro, where
the stone fences prevail, we had IA distant
view of DIR. Rowland'S S, Corners, the Misses
Moor's, and the Ewing farms. Near at
hand, on the east side of the creek. we had
a nearer view of Stephen J. Woodrow's
and Robert II. Nesbitt's places, and up by
Porter's Bridge, on the other side of the
Octoraro, the farms of John f Way and
Philip West. These are all very pretty
places, but we were particularly pleased
with the neat appearance of the places of
John \. Nesbtt and Mathew Morrison
Going on down towards Rowlandsvile we
were pleased with the splendid appearance
of farm that we afterwards learned was
the late residence of Corbin Cooley now il
the occupany of his son William
Knowing we were in close proximity to
the residence of cousin Sue" We thought
we would drop in and see her and spend a
few minutes. So, with much trepidation,
we approached the "ancient and venera-
BILE - mansion where she resides. A youth
full brother of Sues responded to our tap
upon the door and kindly babe us enter and
be seated. We inquired for Sue and
he went to look for her, and soon returned
and said she would be in presently. After
the lapse of Il few minutes, which we thought
a long time, she came in and we introduced
ourself.
Now, reader, If you expect we are going
to describe Cousin Sue" aud write a long
yarn about the rising young authoreSs.
whose talents and genius have been hid
away so long among the Octoraro hills, you
are much mistaken. No, no, we didn't 90
there for that purpose, and if we had, with
the fate of many others before our eyes,
we would be very apt to restrain our tongue
and pen and observe discreet and respect
full silence. We will say, however, that
g Sue" traces her genealogy back to Sir
Philip BloOdgett, who came over from Eng
land to Maryland in the ark or Doce :"
(Sue said Ark or Dove, but remarked that
Quilp would be likely to say '.Ark and
"D0ce') at or about the time of the ar
rival of Lord Baltimore. And that the
mansion in which she resides. and which
is owned by her father, is at least one hun
dred and fifty years old, and that it is on
the east bank Of the Octoraro the Indian
name of which was "WdNa WuM" and
that the wild music of this beautiful and
squalling of this "BaJy Ricer,' because it
cannot reach the arms of its old mother,
SusQuehanna, whose hoarSe voice NAV be
heard in the distance, calling for her child,
in our opinion. has much to do with the
development of the genius of the many fine
poetcal writers that have been reared upon
its banks. We must say that while much
OF Sues writings are pretty as the plu-
mage of certain bird, who sports a tail
OF which he is said to be very proud her
voice. like his, is not very sweet. Sues
father, who was absent till late in the
evening, visiting 4 sick negro, John H.
Bowyer, ana who is a disciple of Fox, and,
like all the meek and gentle Friends, de-
lights i'll visiting the sick and doing them
good, has six Stalworth sons and two
daughters.
From the hill on the south side of the
ancient mansion we have fine view en-
bracing part of the counties of Cecil,
Hartford, FORK and Lancaster. AS build
ing site for a gentleman of fortune and
taste, this location is perhaps unsurpassed
in the county; a portion of the Susque-
hanna is also seen from this Hill, near the
mouth of the Octoraro and peeping through
the tree tops the dilapidated roofs of an
ancient village, formerly place of some
note, known as the Locks" Whether it
ever had any other name or no, tradition
sayeth not, but in the palmy days of the
old Maryland Canal it was the only village
between COnowingo and Port Deposit. 1t
is now, we believe, exclusively inhabited
by American citizens of African decent.
Across the river, however, we see a village
that is not so dilapidated, the little town of
Darlington, which looks charmingly pic
turesque from here with its white cottages
and pleasantly shaded yards. Looking
southward towards the bay, smoky mist
tells where the tall spires of Havre de
Grace point heavenward through the blue
ether.
At Rowlandsville we called upon an &C
quaintance, who kindly wanted us to re-
main for tea. After tea we started out
to walk up the road along the bank of the
Octoraro Our friend is a good fellow and
fond of joke, and while we were strolling
along the creek told us this: Upon one
occasion, when he first came to Rowlands-
vile to reside, he said he thought he would
take stroll up along the banks of the
creek and try and find its source So one
Sunday morning, not having much to do
the next week, he made All early start and
travelled on till night, when, with much d fiji
Guilty, he procured lodgings at farm house
and resumed his explorations next morn
ing and travelled on till night, when, with
much difficulty, he again procured lodgings
at farm house and resumed his explora-
tions next morning and travelled on till Mon
day night, when he was in strange wild
country, "tired and weary and worn.'
Foot sore and discouraged, he at last met
negro, who directed him to Cochranville,
where he spent the night. There was no
perceptible diminution in the size of the
stream when he left it. He came home,
and upon making inquiry afterwards of an
old wagner who was familiar with the
stream from its mouth to its source, and
describing the locality where he abandoned
the exploration of it, the old man told him
he was about fifty miles from its source.
and that the stream rose in Delaware county,
Pennsylvania.
We told our friend that Delaware county
was near Philadelphia, and that the old
man must have been mistaken, but he
seemed to think he knew, having travelled
over the country many times. We always
knew the Octoraro was very crooked, but
how it finds its way from Delaware county
across the Brandywine to Rowlaudsville we
leave your readers to imagine. 1t is be-
yond our comprehension.
Our friend said he never cared to take a
IObS VAIN lle SeelDeu 10 nave III
jured his constitution on that journey of
exploration.
East Of the Cooley place we saw very
fine barn, the property of Charles Moore,
son of w. w. Moore, whom we met at the
Club. His property was formerly owned
by James Way. The wife of Mr.. Way was
a sister of the celebrated Bayard Taylor.
Adjoining Mr.. Coale's place is the pretty
place of Commission Gerry, who was born
and raised on this place, and never has
been hundred miles away from it. He is
a grandson of Col. Gerry, who fought in
the war of 1912, and G. G.. son of Commo
dore Gerry, of Revolutionary fame Col.
Gerry lies buried in "A neglected corner of a
field on this farm. Near him lie also also
several other members of his family. No
stone or slab marks the resting place of the
hero of many battles; his dust mingles
with the soil on which he labored in the
last years of his life; but what matters the
disposition of the body after it has
Nobly borne life's cares and ills,
If blown about the deseret sands,
Or seald within the iron hills"
In Rowlandsvile we found our friend
George Christy, who runs the grist mill
here, grinding away with the vigor of Sam.