The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-02-04

| white child born on that part of the island,
and then the three girls. Eunice, Betsy and
Sarah. Betsy was my grandmother, born
amid the troublous times of the Revolu-
| ton, and we children never used to tire OF
| listening to the stirring tales of her early
days. Eunice was about Is years old when
| the British took possession of the peninsula
| Of Bagaduce, as Castine was then called.
My grandmother was then about g. and
! Sarah still younger, but although living on
| one of the most bleak and desolate islands,
an island lying off the coast of a country
| still wild and unsettled, these young peo-
pie. far from finding their lives monoto-
nous, felt themselves to be part and parcel
| of turmoil of stupendous events. Though
| far enough from the actual seat of war,
the British garrison stationed at Castine
| furnished food for constant gossip and ex-
| element. Now and then some stately En-
glish vessel coming through the thorough
| fare glided past the island or anchored off
| the landing; they listened breathlessly to
| the echo of the guns when the tardy Amer
| lean fleet reached Castine on its fruitless
errand of recapture; rumors of Washing
| toms campaigns, of the valor and suffer
ings of the patriotic army came vaguely to
their ears, and it was often hard for the
fiery youngsters to observe the spell of
silence which their more prudent elders
laid upon their lips, mindful of the British
garrison only twenty-five miles away.
Castine was the nearest trading post, and
shither they were obliged to go for all their
needed supplies. My grandmother was an
adventurous and imaginative child, and
used to beg so hard for the privilege of GO
ing to Castine whenever anything was
needed from there that she often visited
the garrison, and it was to this fact | owe
much of my knowledge of my great-aunt
Eunice's romance. Mary Coleman, a cous-
in of the family, was then living at Cas-
tine, and l have many times heard my
grandmother tell the story of the memora-
BILE Sunday which she and her sister Eunice
spent at that place. Eunice was then
about eighteen years old, in the first bloom
of her wonderful beauty, for she was even
lovelier than her portrait, my grand
mother always used to say. She was en-
gagged to be married to Thomas Simpson, a
sturdy young settler, whose clearing adj
joined Granther Coleman's; yet she pos
sessed enough of demure cCquetry TO cause
her to adjust her homespun gown and her
lace kerchief as becomingly as possible be-
fore attending the garrison church service
on Sunday morning.
DR.. William Crawford had come from
Fort Point to preach that morning; he was
a man of eloquent speech and imposing
presence, yet the scarlet coated British
officers looked oftener at the beautiful
young stranger than at the reverend chap
lain. But my grandmother noticed most
of all a handsome, proud looking officer
who, coming late into service, with clink-
ing sword and careless air, sat down Oppo-
site my aunt Eunice and herself. He had
The look of one used to command, and on
the prayer book that he bore was blazoned
a coat of arms. At first he seemed like a
man negligent of all things, and weary of
his surroundings, but presently his wander
ing gaze fell on my Great-Aunt Eunice,
and as he looked slow red flush rose over
his fair English face, and a fire kindled in
the depths of his cold blue eyes. So might
4 man look who had found his hearts de-
sire, his pearl of price, and could not be
satisfied with gazing. That afternoon
when my grandmother walked by the
shore with Eunice and Cousin Mary quick
step came up behind them, and turning
they saw the handsome officer of the morn
ing, looking handsomer still in his fatigue
dress.
"A good day to you, Mistress Coleman"
he said, bowling courteously to Cousin
Mary, "and fair day to her also makes
all things fair" he added, still with that
strange fire in his eye, as he looked at my
Aunt Eunice.
''That was a wise discourse of Dr. Craw-
ford's concerning our heavenly home"
said Cousin Mary, as Maj Howe walked
by the side of the Two ladies along the
rocky shore.
Truly, madam" he answered, "but
fear me was thinking more of an earthly
paradise than of heavenly one this
morning"
The incoming tide crept slowly up the
beach, the shadows grew purple on the far !
off hills, and still Maj. Howe walked by
Cousin Mary's side, looking ever at my
Great-Aunt Eunice, while he told stories |
of his boyhood, of his stately English |
home, of the bonny hedgerows and fair
green meadows of Devonshire
81 have bethought me today" he said |
softly to my Aunt Eunice at parting,
that how it might be, should man !
chance to transplant a western lily into |
those same green meadows of Devonshirep' |
My grandmother used to tell that my
Aunt Eunice tossed restlessly on her pill |
low that night, and drew once a long, Sob |
bling breath in her sleep; but she said /
naught.
The next visit to Castine was on a most |
important business, being no less an errand |
than the purchase of my Aunt Eunice's !
small store of wedding finery, for the time /
of her marriage was near at hand. This |
trip was also rendered more memorable by |
another incident, for my grandmother hav-
ing been sent the day before on an errand /
over in 1.-The Webb neighborhood," had re-
turned with beating heart and glowing /
cheeks, bearing a handful printed on |
coarse paper, containing the news of the /
surrender of CORVALLIS. An American |
vessel lying in the harbor at Isle au Haul
had brought several of these handbills for
and Capt. Settle Webb hav-
ing just arrived from that port and hear
ing of Mrs. Coleman's intended visit to
Castine, had sent the proclamation to her,
in order that she might use her own dis
cretion in regard to communicating the
news TO the garrison there.
Here Aunt Eunice paused in her story,
and opening another drawer in the old ma
hogany press brought forth paper soiled
with use and yellow and frsil with age
well, what next, Aunt Eunicef" asked
Nan impatiently. did your grandmother
20 to Castine too"
Yes, dear" said Aunt Eunice. "She
was so anxious to go that Gran'ma Cole
man allowed her to do so, although it was
really against her judgment. The distance
was about twenty-five miles, and Thomas
and Joseph were to take them across in
the night, that they might have the day
light for their purchases. That was
strange voyage, my grandmother used TO
.n11...t L. al.,r,- 4