Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1878-01-11

cation, were possessed by comparatively fey
families and think there has never beei
so much happiness enjoyed by any othe
community or class OF people in this coun
try as those families enjoyed for generations
Whatever may be said of their social system
and | am aware that it was not the best
was perfect of its kind From their point o
view, everything was as 1t should be, always
excepting the acts of one or the other OF th'
party in politics Life was made easy, anC
such exacting cares and responsibilities rs
could not be honorably eyaded were me
without friction, without struggle, without
question. Beyond the observance OF few
perfectly defined habits and customs we did
not feel it necessary TO wander in search oi
social law
Living as We did on spur of the Blue
Ridge, in the most salubrious part OF the
State. one would have thought there was nc
necessity for going elsewhere during the hot
months But my mother, near halt CEN
tury ago. thought differently. About the
first of July We always started on what
used to cali, when girl, our pilgrimage. -
In an old-fashIoned coach, round as an ap-
pie and lifted high in the air-which in my
| childish fancy was ever associated with the
| one the fairy made from Cinderella s pump
kin with fat old coachman. and horses as
fat and lazy as he. We would make the distance
of twenty miles day. We accomplished
about half this in the cool morning, stopping
at some country tavern during the heat of
the day, and driving another ten miles amid
the shades of evening. Behind us, at re-
| spectful distance. trundled our baggage waS-
on We had relations in every county, as all
true Virginians were bound to have and We
| would tarry for days with them on our jour-
news, with as little regard to reaching def
mite place at a definite time rs if n thousand
| years remained to us.
One of these Summer jaunts, when | was
| a girl, on which l first saw Mr.. Madison, is
| particularly impr -s~ei on my memory. We
sojourned several days at his lovely seat,
! Montpelier. Mrs. Madison being an old
friend of my mothers. $.
Mr. and Mrs. Madison would in private
sometimns romp and tease each other like
two children, and engage in antics that would
astonish the muse of History. Mrs. Madi-
son was stronger as well as larger than he.
She could-and did-seize his hands, draw
him upon her back and go round the room
with him whenever she particularly wished
to impress him with due sense OF mans in
feriority. Speaking of their flight from
Washington on the oath of August, 1914,
she said after Mr.. Madison had left the
White House for Fairfax l busted myself in
gathering up the little things priced and
packing them in the carriage, which stood
ready at the door. had placed servant at
the gate to warn me OF the approach of the
English troops. | had just left the sitting
room with n cup and saucer which had be-
longed to Marie Antoinette when in rushed
nv sci tinel. After securing the portrait of
Washington, and getting that into the car
riage, jumped IL myself, and away We vent
for the Chain Bridge. | was dreadfully
frightened, and expected TO be pursued. We
drove as fast as We could without breaking
the carriage to pieces. l looked out ot the
back window, thinking might see what was
going on in Washington and, sure enough,
to my horror there was British officer gal
Looping after us at full speed, followed by
some soldiers. was so alarmed that open
ed the door and sprang into the road. had
no bonnet-only purple turban on my
head, and my face. | knew, was red as q
poppy In my excitement | thought could |
run faster than the carriage. The officer |
passed me, wheeled suddenly, bowed low, |
and asked me il he saw Mrs. Madison, the |
President s lady, at the same time placing |
his hand in the bosom of his coat. l in
clined my head, expecting that he would |
draw forth nothing less than pistol. But |
it was package instead of a pistol that he
offered. saying, i was requested TO place
this in your hands by Lady - of England,
ana HnulnB YOU Hdti just ltlt Noui icsiueuOei
| questioned your servants and took the
liberty of following you He turned with a
low bow, and was gone, leaving Inc over
whelmed with modification.
The seat that inspired Swallow Barn Was
the home of my aunt John z. Kennedy
was her nephew and my cousin. He always
retained his boyish love of fun. He and
Washington Irving would come up to the
old place together, and then beware No
one escaped their mischief. They spared
neither age, sex nor previous condition.
Such pranks, such absurdities, such good
natured deviltry, as reigned supreme till
they were gone During harvest they would
take their seats under the trees with their
hands at the long dinner tables, and assidu-
ously bottle up quaint sayings and odd doings
for future use.
One adventure in particular, which think
is not alluded to in Swallow Barn, should
have formed chapter there. Kennedy himself
was the ringleader and his wife's father the vic
tim. The old gentleman WAS expected to ar
rive on a certain day, as a visitor, from Bal
timore. 1t was not long after Nat Turner's in
and he had conceived an exagger-
ated idea of the affair. He was IA little TIM
id, i'll consequence, about travelling into Nir
ginia alone at that particular time. John
knew that his fatLer-in-laY was decidedly
/
We used to call "the clan, the endless line
DIT circle of cousins -Dandridges, Kennedy's,
Pendletons- blacked their faces, clothed
themselves like plantation hands, carrying
Did muskets, spades and forks, with cocks
feathers in the hats of the leaders. and
marched to meet their prey When attack
ID" by the gang, the old gentleman gave HIM
self up for lost. They surrounded his car
,iage but before dragging him forth to his
loom they began delivering to him the most
harangue which, notwith-
standing his fright, led him to detect SON
n-lhw under the disguise of the principal {
lesperado. Anger was useless with such
party, and by the time he reached the house
lis prayers for mercy had changed to laugh
er. Prominent in ''the clan and its diver
lions in those days was Colonel Strother,
Porte CrayOn:' Cousin
Dave" was his title then.
When Hon Charles J. Faulkner was mar
led he was keeping bachelors hall, and it
vas proposed that he should give his bride "a /,
breakfast the next morning. Kennedy was Il
he master spirit in the arrangements. The :
able was covered with cloth that was far /
rom immaculate, and set with broken, {
racked and odd pieces of china. The yiands j
yere bacon, corn-bread, etc. arranged i'll the c
most grotesque manner possible. When the '
,ridal-party were ushered in, profoundly ig |
lorant of the Joke, they stood horror r-stricken.
Kennedy, solemn as an owl, clad as II butler /
nd with white apron, advanced and pre- |
ented to the bride about a peck of great l
usty keys strung on n chain that might have y
rawn plow, the whole so heavy she could c
ot lift them. And the speech in which he
resented them Any attempt to repeat or +,
escribe its drollery would only spoil it. | !,
elieve he never wrote anything so witty. So |,
nimitably funny lie wound up by saying :
hat he resigned with tears in his eyes :
ihich were tears of aughter-all authority !
nd control over the establishment. When q
he farce WIS played out there was another /,
mn puncement, and then breakfast lit for
he gods was served III earnest
John L. Kennedy had no children. but was !
'assionateiy fond oi the children OF his rela- Il
ions especially those of his brothers, who C
u turn almost worshipped him Making all o
llowances, of course, for the differences in
heir surroundings. the geographical differ e
nee in their homes, 1t always seemed to me !
hat there was AN interesting resemblance be- I
Heen him and Irving in many little things I
hat the world could scarcely know In L
hat they have written, the similarity Of their Il
umor and style must be apparent to every r
ne, and Kennedy's literary character was u
lshioned very much. think, 10y the infu- /
nee Of his more famous friends The hast /
me ! saw his friend Irving was when Kenne- d
y WAS refining from the Secretaryship Of the t'
avy The new administration had como in, II
nd the members of the old cabinet were
cry busy in closing up and turning over 4
heir portfolios and and arranging their per- o
onal affairs for departure. The domestic Il
pncerns OF the retiring Secretary whose p
uest Irving had been during the winter, o
ere therefore in the same state of uphenval J.
5 were affairs at the department. called II
0 take leave Of the family. but not Il soul q
'as in the house, except Irving. | inquired II
ghtly how he would dispose of himself in a.
he general breakup. "Well answered the W
uizzical old bachelor with mock primitive Il
ess, "l suppose Mrs. Kennedy will pack k
le up with the rest Of the old crockery." IL
American country-iie can hardly again be "
, picturesque as 1T was on some of the d
of Virginia IN my young dnys. 4
.. j.. .