The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1878-01-12

ing the tower is a sort of steeple, lurmoun-
ted with cross rods, bearing the letters
IN. 5. Il. W." and on the summit of all
is small portion of an old weather-cock,
which propably veered in the winds of the
last century.
The surroundings of the time -honored
edifice are as antique as the building,
which stands on its wooded knoll, with
the sturdy air of veteran careless of
slime and tide" On the bricks are cary
ed names and dates by hands that have
long since crumbled. One of these dates
is 1879. On great tombstone beneath
the oriel window, walled up for some rea-
son, is a coat-ofarms, raised in s-relief-
a shield with a ''lone star upon it; above
knights vizor, with the cornet-of a
duke or marquis, apparently-encircling
it, and surrounding all, the grinning head
Of wolf On this stone, dark aud dura-
bic as was the marble of that epoch, is cut
the date ''1716." Not tracery has grown
dim, not letter or figure is indistinct
The VOLTS tongue lolls out fercely; his
eyes glare; his teeth snarl. The rain and
snow and sunshine have fallen for CEN
tury and half on the knightly helmet
and the head of the wolf-and neither
rain, snow or sunshine has affected the
iron surface.
These objects take you back to a remote
period, very unlike the present, when bull
dings, tombstones, and all other things
seem constructed Of transient materials.
Another memorial of the old times is the
grove of great oaks around the church.
What picturesque scenes these must have
witnessed Beneath their spreading boughs
generation after generation rolled the
chariot of old-timed Virginians, drawn by
their four horses, and containing the squire,
his wife, and maidens and children, atten-
ding church. To these boughs were teth-
cred the brides of thoroughbred horses,
ridden by gallant youths. Yonder the
chariots discharge their burdens-the POM
pous old lord of the manor, the daughter,
in her great hooded dress, square bodice,
powdered hair and red-heeled shoes, which
she displays as she raises her silk dress
and scarlet 'petticoat," as they called it
then. You may see her still, in imagina-
tion, as she smiles and mods, Staying with
her bright eyes the youths with embroid-
cred coats, long waistcoats and rufies who
fastened to assist her, and contend for the
touch of her small hand.
All that has passed away; the youths
and maidens are long dead The parson
no more sweeps down the vestry stairs, or
thunders or drones in his high, tub-shaped
pulpit above the listeners in the lofty pews.
Squire and dame and parson and gallant
lover and little beauty live alone in the
memory of the great oaks which was above
them, wave still, and will probably rustic
their leaves in the winds for another
century.
Such is and was old St. Peters Church
an interesting relic to day of time that
is long dead; interesting, more than all, as
| have said, as having been the scene of
Washington's wedding.
The incident which led to that event is
worth narrating, aud is something of a
comedy. | hope, in relating it, shall not
be charged with irreverence to the memory
of the famous bridegroom He was a
man of lofty pride, august dignity very
grand type of manhood. But he was a
man, not demi-god, and ''fell in love" at
least twice in his life, like the humblest of
his species. This was his second love,
and something of romance was connected
with the origin of the affair.
1t was in the spring of 1853. Mr.. Gus
tbs, planter, residing ON his estate called
the "White House, was riding out one
morning, when he met coming from the
northward young gentleman of military
appearance and excellently mounted, ae-
companied by gaunt old servant, or SER
geant, who rode respectfully few PAGES
behind his master. The new conner was
Col. George Washington, on his way from
Winchester to Williamsburg, and his at
tendant, Bishop, formerly Braddock's body
servant, now his own.
Washington was twenty-six at that time,
and young man of great sedateness and
dignity. lie was in chief command on
the frontier, aud saw or thought little of
the fair sex. But on this spring morning
of 1858 his slime had come"
Mr.. Gusts greeted him and invited him
to stop at the White House He would
do so with pleasure, but it would be for
half an hour only. His business was pres
sing; he must hasten on to see his Excel
lency at Williamsburg. And conversing
they rode back and reached the White
House. Here Washington dismounted
and delivered his horse to Bishop, with
orders to await him there; he would con-
tinue his journey in half an hour. Bishop
saluted gravely, with hand raised to his
hat; his master entered the house, aud the
half hour passed-the old servant waiting
patiently.
His master did not, however, make his
pearance The event was unheard of
Colonel Washington was the soul of pune
tuality; he was on pressing public business;
what could be the meaning of this strange
and unwonted delay?
An hour passed-two hours passed
Colonel Washington did not reappear
But servant came out and delivered an
order from him to the motionless old body
guard. He would conduct the horses to
the stables; his master would dine and pos
sibly spend the night with Mr.. Gusts,
Bishop obeyed-the world was clearly
coming to an end-and Colonel Washing
ton was the guest of the owner of the
White House.
On the next morning, Bishop, in ODE
dience to the orders to that effect, saddlcd
the horses and walked before the door for
the colonel, who designed setting out i'm
mediately. An hour passed the colonel
did not appear. Two hours afterward
there were still no signs of him. Then
the servant came again and directed the
horses to be led back; Colonel Washington
would remain to dinner and then continue
his journey.
The day was far spent when the young
soldier made his appearance and vaulted
into the saddle. Tall, vigorous, graceful,
and with certain loftiness of port, even