Sunday, December 23, 2012

All Quiet Along the Potomac To-Night

From the Susan Hopkins' music collection:  "All Quiet Along the Potomac To-Night", words by Lamar Fontaine, music by J.H. Hewitt.  This song, based on telegrams, was dedicated "to the unknown dead of the present revolution" and published in 1861.

By the 97th Regimental String Band in 2008:
By Columbia Masterworks, c1954:
ALL QUIET ALONG THE POTOMAC TONIGHT

"All quiet along the Potomac," they say,
"Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
'T is nothing-a private or two now and then
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost-only one of the men,
Moaning out, all alone, the death-rattle."

All quiet along the Potomac to-night,

 Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
Or the light of the watch-fire, are gleaming.
A tremulous sigh of the gentle night-wind
Through the forest leaves softly is creeping
While stars up above, with their glittering eyes,
Keep guard, for the army is sleeping.

There 's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread,

As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two in the low trundle-bed
Far away in the cot on the mountain.
His musket falls slack; his face, dark and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep,
For their mother; may Heaven defend her!

The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then,

That night, when the love yet unspoken
Leaped up to his lips-when low-murmured vows
Were pledged to be ever unbroken.
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun closer up to its place,
As if to keep down the heart-swelling.

He passes the fountain, the blasted pine-tree,

The footstep is lagging and weary;
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,
Toward the shade of the forest so dreary.
Hark! was it the night-wind that rustled the leaves?
Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looked like a rifle .... "Ha! Mary, good-bye!"
The red life-blood is ebbing and plashing.

All quiet along the Potomac to-night;

No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead-
The picket 's off duty forever!

Saturday, December 22, 2012

The Lass O'Gowrie

From Susan Hopkins' music collection:  "The Lass O'Gowrie, A Favorite Scotch Melody as Sung by Mr. Dempster.  Arranged for the Piano Forte.  Published by F.D. Benteen, Baltimore. W.T. Mayo, New Orleans."  Mr. Dempster was a celebrated vocalist in the 1830s and 1840s.  This was published around 1832.  For a history of the poem, visit Lass O'Gowrie pub.

To listen to the tune:  Lass o'Gowrie

Also interesting is a C-SPAN program, Music of the 1830s.  I only intended to watch a few minutes, but wound up watching the entire program.  From the description:  "Mr. Lynch, musicians, and scholars talked about the popular music in the 1830s in the U.S. and its role in social functions.  This program focused particularly on Appalachian music.  Several songs from the period were also performed."  Alexis de Tocqueville features in the program.

The Lass O'Gowrie
'Twas on a summer's afternoon, 
A wee before the sun gaed down,
My Lassie wi' a braw new gown
Came o'er the hill to Gowrie,
The rosebud ring'd wi' morning show'rs
Bloom'd fresh within the sunnie bow'rs,
But my Lassie was the fairest flow'r
That ever bloom'd in Gowrie.

I had naw thought to do her wrant,
But round her waist my arms I flang,
And said my Lassie will ye gang
To view the Carse o'Gowrie;
I'll tak' ye to my Father's ha;
In yon green field beside the shaw,
And mak' ye lady o' them a';
The brawest wife in Gowrie.

Saft kisses on her lips I laid,
Sweet blushes on her cheeks soon spread,
She whisper'd modestly and said
"I'll gang wi' ye to Gowrie!"
The auld folks soon gaed their consent,
And to Mess John we quickly went,
Wha tied us to our heart's content,
And how she's Lady Gowrie.

Friday, December 21, 2012

'Twas within a Mile of Edinburgh

From Susan Hopkins' music collection:  "'Twas within a Mile of Edinburgh, A Favourite Scotch Song".  This dates toward the close of the 17th century.  The 1897 book, Celebrated Songs of Scotland:  From King James V. to Henry Scott Ridell, declared this tune, written by Thomas D'Urfey, to be a "miserable production".  Some may disagree!

Instrumental, by the British Army:
On the piano by Shuann Chai in 2009:

'Twas within a Mile of Edinburgh
'Twas within a mile of Edinburgh town,
In the rosy time of the year,
Sweet flowers bloom'd and the grass was down,
And each shepherd woo'd his dear,
Bonny Jocky, blythe and gay,
Kiss'd sweet young Jenny making hay;
The lassie blush'd, and frowning cried,
No, No, it will not do;
I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot
Monnot buckle do.

Jocky was a wag that never would wed,
Tho' long he had followed the lass;

Contented she earn'd and eat her brown bread,
And merrily turn'd up the grass.
Bonny Jocky, blyth and free,
Won her heart right merrily,
Yet still she blush'd and frowning cry'd,
No, No, it will not do;

I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot
Monnot buckle do.

But when he vow'd he would make her his bride,
Tho' his flocks and herds were not few,
She gave him her hand and a kiss beside,
And vow'd she'd forever be true.
Bonny Jocky blith and free,
Won her heart right merrily,
At church she no more frowning cry'd
No, no, it will not do,

I cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot
Monnot buckle do.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Lorena

From Susan Hopkins' music collection:  "Lorena", poetry by Rev. Henry D.L. Webster and music by Joseph Philbrick Webster.  These two Websters are not related.  The song was published in 1857 and became a favorite of soldiers on both sides of the war.
This, by the way, is Joseph Philbrick Webster.
He composed over 1000 songs.  "Lorena" was the most popular.
Version by Charlie Zahn in 2006 with a short introduction on history of the song:
Waylon Jennings in 1964:
Lorena
The years creep slowly by, Lorena,
  The snow is on the grass again,
The sun's low down the sky, Lorena,
  The frost gleams where the flow'rs have been.
But the heart throbs on as warmly now,
  As when the summer days were nigh;
Oh! the sun can never dip so low,
  Adown affection's cloudless sky.
The sun can never dip so low,
  Adown affection's cloudless sky.

A hundred months have pass'd Lorena,
  Since I last held that hand in mine,
And felt the pulse beat fast, Lorena,
  Tho' mine beat faster far than thine.
A hundred months, -- 'twas flow'ry May,
  When up the hilly slope we climbed,
To watch the dying of the day,
  And hear the distant churchbells chimed.
To watch the dying of the day,
  And hear the distant churchbells chimed.

We loved each other then Lorena,
  More than we've dared to tell;
And what we might have been, Lorena,
  Had but our lovings prospered well --
But then, 'tis past -- the years are gone,
  I'll not call up their shadowy forms,
I'll say to them, "lost years, sleep on!
  Sleep on! nor heed, life's pelting storm."
I'll say to them, "lost years sleep on!
  Sleep on! nor heed, life's pelting storm."

The story of that past, Lorena,
  Alas! I care not to repeat,
The hopes that could not last, Lorena,
  They lived, but only lived to cheat.
I would not cause e'en one regret
  To wrangle in your bosom now;
For "if we try we _try_, we may forget,"
  Were words of thine long years ago.
For "if we try we _try_, we may forget,"
  Were words of thine long years ago.

Yes, these were words of thine, Lorena,
  They burn within my memory yet;
They touched some tender chords, Lorena,
  Which thrill and tremble with regret.
'Twas not thy woman's heart that spoke;
  Thy heart was always true to me: --
A _duty_ stern and pressing, broke
  The tie which linked my soul with thee.

It matters little now, Lorena,
  The past -- is in the eternal Past,
Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena,
  Life's tide is ebbing out so fast.
There is a Future! O thank God,
  Of life this is so small a part!
'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod;
  But there, _up there_, 'tis heart to heart.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

General Lee's Grand March

From Susan Hopkins' music collection: "General Lee's Grand March" by Hermann L. Schreiner. This musical score was published in the 1860s. Hermann L. Schreiner, a naturalized citizen from Germany, was a prolific composer and arranger from Savannah, GA. He remained in Savannah during the war and kept a store for the sale of music and musical instruments. He appears to have been in strong sympathy with the Union (From United States Court of Claims, 1871).

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Her Bright Smile Haunts Me Still

From the music collection of Susan Hopkins:  "Her Bright Smile Haunts Me Still", poetry by J. E. Carpenter and Music by William Thomas Wrighton.  An advertisement in the December, 1856, issue of The Journal of the Society of Arts states:  "Mr. Wrighton, who has won the suffrages of the million by his 'Postman's Knock' is equally a favorite in the drawing-room, witness his 'Smiles and Tears' and and these two beautiful songs."  The other song referenced in the advertisement is "On the Banks of the Beautiful River."  

This version by Peter Cooper & Eric Brace, recorded in 2008:
This is not to be missed.  It is an Edison Blue Amberol Cylinder recording, which dates it to between 1912-1929 :

Her Bright Smile Haunts Me Still
’Tis years since last we met, 
And we may not meet  again; 
I have struggled to forget, 
But the struggle was in vain; 
For her voice lives on the breeze, 
And her spirit comes at will; 
In the midnight, on the seas, 
Her bright smile haunts me still! 
For her voice lives on the breeze, 
And her spirit comes at will; 
In the midnight, on the seas, 
Her bright smile haunts me still. 

As the first sweet dawn of light, 
When I gaze upon the deep, 
Her form still greets my sight, 
While the stars their vigils keep; 
When I close mine aching eyes, 
Sweet dreams my senses fill; 
And from sleep when I arise, 
Her bright smile haunts me still! 
When I close mine aching eyes, 
Sweet dreams my senses fill; 
And from sleep when I arise, 
Her bright smile haunts me still. 

I have sail’d ’neath alien skies, 
I have trod the desert path, 
I have seen the storm arise, 
Like a giant in his wrath; 
Ev’ry danger I have known, 
That a reckless life can fill; 
Yet her presence is not flown, 
Her bright smile haunts me still! 
Ev’ry danger I have known, 
That a reckless life can fill; 
Yet her presence is not flown, 
Her bright smile haunts me still. 

Monday, December 17, 2012

Keep Me Awake, Mother

From the music collection of Susan Hopkins: "Keep Me Awake, Mother" was written by Mrs. M. W. Stratton.  The music was composed by F. Koenigsberg and it was published by J.C. Schreiner & Son in 1863.  The sheet music is available online.

About Mrs. M. W. Stratton, from the book Memorabilia and Anecdotal Reminiscences of Columbia, S.C., by Julia A. Selby and William Gilmore Simms, 1905:
*The "famous Barhamville Institute" was the South Carolina Female Collegiate Institute in Richland district, near Columbia.

Keep Me Awake, Mother
Forward! oh, forward, Time!  stay not thy flight; 
I'm older and wiser, and sadder tonight;
Mother, dear mother, I see thee no more, 
But watch me, O watch me again as of yore;
Let me not slumber, but gaze on life's cares,
With the look of defiance a warrior wears;
Once more to thy bosom a weary one take,
Keep me awake, mother, keep me awake!

I'm tired of earth--I'm tired of life--
Its unfulfilled hopes--its profitless strife;
Still must I onward, my destiny calls, 
Tho' troubles betide or danger appals;
My life-path is cover'd with gloom and decay,
But let me not falter or sleep by the way;
Of glory and honor, a name let me make,
Keep me awake, mother, keep me awake!

Give me stern power of frame and of soul 
To meet all the troubles that over me roll,
Let me not murmur, though working I be
For those whom I see not, or never may see,
Let me plant trees, though they flourish and bloom
When I am away in a far-off tomb;
For those who are coming, care let me take--
Keep me awake, mother, keep me awake!

Dreams of my childhood have faded or flown,
Objects I cherished, repulsive have grown,
All things seem fleeting, no pleasure endures,
But mother, dear mother, the same lot was yours;
Such dreaming, such mourning, hoping and trust,
Such crumbling of air-built castles to dust;
Bravely, as thou didst, my part let me take--
Keep me awake, mother, keep me awake!

Awake to my duties, awake to my trust,
Let me do my task bravely, if toil I must;
But sometimes, oh sometimes, in dreams let me be
The child again, mother, who slept on your knee;
Wipe out, for a moment, my story of life,
Its struggles, its sorrows, its follies and strife,
Some reason of pleasure, of rest let me take--
Then wake me, my mother, oh keep me awake!

And mother, dear mother, when life's nearly o'er, 
And God calls me home to "the echoless shore,"
My tasks are all done, and my busy brain still,
And I have no longer a power or will,
O then, blessed Spirit, O then hover near,
And smooth from my brow the dark shadow of fear;
Then linger near, mother, to watch and to weep,
Then rock me to sleep, then rock me to sleep,
Mother, rock me to sleep.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Rock Me to Sleep, Mother

From Susan Hopkins' music collection:  "Rock Me to Sleep, Mother", poetry by Florence Percy and music by Ernest Leslie.  It was published in 1861.

This version, recorded in 2012 by Cathie Ryan, is lovely.  The tune is her own:
The Bexley High School Women's Glee Club, recorded in 2009, also lovely:
Rock Me to Sleep
Backward, turn backward, Oh Time, in thy flight,
Make me a child again, just for tonight;
Mother! come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore.
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair,
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep,
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

Chorus:
Clasp'd to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping me face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

Backward, turn backward, Oh tide of years.
I am so weary of toil and of tears
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain
Take them, and give me my childhood again.
I have grown weary of dust and decay,
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away
Weary of sowing for others to reap
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, Oh mother, my heart calls for you.
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between--
Yet with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I tonight for your presence again;
Come from the silence to long and so deep--
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like a mother's love ever has shone
No other worship abides and endures--
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours;
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber's soft calm o'er my heavy lids creep--
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

Come, let your brown hair just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead tonight,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Happy will throng the sweet visions of yore--
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep--
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened to your lullaby song;
Sing, then, and unto my heart it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream;
Clasped to your heard in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep--
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Darling Nelly Gray

From the music collection of Susan Hopkins:  "Darling Nelly Gray" by Benjamin. R. Hanby.  It was written in 1856.  There are countless versions of this on YouTube.

This version, by soprano Alma Gluck, was recorded before 1925:
The Mills Brothers meet Louis Armstrong recorded in 1937:
On the fiddle, Jean Carnignan, with piano accompaniment, recorded in the 1970s:  
Minstrel banjo version by Wayne Shrubsall, recorded in 2009, with a nice introduction about the history of the tune:

Darling Nelly Gray
There's a low green valley on the old Kentucky shore 
There I whiled many happy hours away 
A sitting and a singing by the little cottage door 
Where lived my darling Nelly Gray

Chorus 
Oh my poor Nelly Gray, they have taken you away 
And I'll never see my darling any more 
I am sitting by the river and I'm weeping all the day 
For you've gone from the old Kentucky shore

When the moon had climbed the mountain and the stars were shining too 
Then I'd take my darling Nelly Gray 
And we'd float down the river in my little red canoe
While my banjo sweetly I would play

One night I went to see her but she's gone, the neighbors say 
The white man bound her with his chain
They have taken her to Georgia for to wear her life away
As she toils in the cotton and the cane

My canoe is underwater and my banjo is unstrung 
I'm tired of living any more
My eyes shall look downward and my songs shall be unsung
While I stay on the old Kentucky shore

My eyes are getting blinded and I cannot see my way 
Hark, there's somebody knocking at the door
Oh, I hear the angels calling and I see my Nelly Gray
Farewell to the old Kentucky shore

Chorus, last 
Oh my darling Nelly Gray, up in heaven, there they say
That they'll never take you from me anymore 
I'm a-coming, coming, coming, as the angels clear the way
Farewell to the old Kentucky shore

Friday, December 14, 2012

Strike for the South

In the music collection of Susan Hopkins is the song "Strike for the South", lyrics by Miss Carrie Bell Sinclair and music by James Pierpont.  There is a Christmas connection here:  James Pierpont is the guy who wrote "Jingle Bells".  "Strike for the South" was published in 1863.  

James Pierpont
You can hear a snippet of the song by Bobby Horton released in 2008 on Amazon.  "Strike for the South" is the 10th song on the album.

Strike for the South
Strike for the South ! let her name ever be 
The boast of the true and the brave; 
Let Freedom' d bright star still shine on her brow. 
And her banner the proudest still wave. 

Strike for the South ! shall the heroes who fell. 
In graves all unhonored repose, 
While the turf o'er each head, and the sword by each side. 
Has been stained with the blood of her foes

Strike for the South! for Liberty's sun. 
In darkness and gloom has not set; 
Her bright beams still shine like a light from above,
And will lead thee to victory yet. 

Strike for the South ! for her weapons are bright. 
And the heroes who wield them are strong; 
Let her name brightly glow on the record of fame. 
And hers be the proudest in song. 

Strike for the South! we will honor her name. 
For the glorious deeds she has done! 
The laurel we'll twine 'around each patriot brow. 
And shout when the battle is won. 

Strike for the South! it must, never be said 
That her banner was furled to a foe; 
Let those stars ever shine in bright glory alone. 
And the pathway to victory show. 

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Christmas with Margaret, 1940s

In the back parlor looking towards the front parlor
Annie Ferrell (left), Margaret (right)
Garland on the staircase railing

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

To Christmas Tree Buyers

From Margaret Hodges' December, 1949 issue of Home Gardening:

To Christmas Tree Buyers
When selecting a tree feel the twigs and needles and avoid a tree that is dry or brittle.  Snap off a small branch and if the wood under the bark is moist, the tree is fresh and can be kept that way through the holidays.  
When you get the tree home saw off the end of the trunk diagonally at least an inch above the original cut.  Stand the tree in a container of water level above the cut surface as long as the tree is in use.  Not only will the water keep the tree fresh, but it will fireproof it at the same time.  Brittle or dry Christmas trees burn like tinder, so be sure to take this extra precaution.
Margaret (right) and Annie Ferrell (left) in front of the
Goodwood Christmas tree, c. 1940s.  

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Gray Cottage

Gray Cottage in 1953.  
Gray Cottage, Guest House,  Old Kitchen and the Main House are the four buildings remaining from the days of the Croom ownership of Goodwood.  Originally a small, brick, unfloored structure, Gray Cottage was extensively renovated by Mrs. Tiers after 1911.  For many years, it was thought to have been a spring house, perhaps constructed to shelter a spring and to provide a place to keep milk and other perishables cool.  However, during the 1994 archaeological survey by Glen Doran of Florida State University, that theory was found to be untrue.

The exact date of the construction of Gray Cottage is unclear, though it is certain that it was built during the Croom years.  It stands to the west of the Croom residence.  It has two rooms, north and south.  The areas underneath the current north room floor (which is higher than the south room floor) and adjacent to the foundation were excavated.  

The wood floor of the cottage dates from the Tiers' years.  Originally, the floor was a hard-packed clay.  Underneath the wooden floor of the north room are two cistern-like structures made of brick and finished with plaster.  It was these cistern-like structures that contributed to the theory that the building had originally served as a 'spring house.'  It was found that they had never contained water, negating any possibility of use for cold storage.  A large amount of charcoal was found in the area, particularly in the cistern-like structures.  The cistern-like structures served as storage bins for the charcoal, however it is unclear if that was their original use.  They may have served as a dry-storage bin perhaps for food products or other dry goods, which suggests that the north room was used as a storage or processing room of some sort.

The surprise find during the excavation was a hearth-like structure underneath the center of the north room, the walls of which have been hardened by heat.  It is unknown which came first, the building or the hearth.  The finding of this central hearth further negates the possibility of the building's use as a 'spring' or 'cooling room'.  

Much is still a mystery, in great part due to the extensive renovations by Mrs. Tiers.  She added and/or removed chimneys, windows, and flooring.  She also cleared away much of the soil and debris that surrounded the structure.  Margaret Hodges Hood also appears to have altered the structure, closing in the front porch (which was probably added by Mrs. Tiers) to provide space for a small kitchen.  A bathroom was also added at some point.  Today, the cottage serves as the office for the groundskeeper.  

Friday, December 7, 2012

Arrowsmith Timeline

Dr. William Lamb Arrowsmith was for many years thought to be a man of mystery by those at Goodwood.  However, through much research, a clearer picture of him has emerged.  There are still some questions, but we are closer to the answers today.  What follows is a basic timeline of Dr. Arrowsmith's life:
  • April 10, 1821--William Lamb Arrowsmith (hereafter WLA)  is born, perhaps in London
  • 1821--Annie Esther Eedes, WLA's 1st wife is born in London to Henry & Sarah Isabella Eedes
  • 1836--Elizabeth Harris (hereafter EHA), WLA's 2nd wife, is born in England.
  • 1839--WLA & Annie Esther Eedes are married in London
  • 1841--WLA became an associate of institution of civil engineers in London
  • 1841--WLA's 1st child, Caroline Annie, is born in London
  • 1841--Queen Victoria appoints WLA superintendent of government works and affairs in Malta.  He is a civil engineer.
  • August 8, 1842--WLA's 2nd child is born, Blanch Isabel Harriet in Malta.  She died February 5, 1847.
  • March 26, 1846--WLA's 3rd child is born, Horace Reginald, in Malta.
  • March 19, 1847--WLA's 4th child is born, Blanche Mabel.  She died May 9, 1851.
  • September 19, 1849--WLA's 5th child is born, Alice Harriette.
  • 1849-1854--WLA serves as the Collector of Customs in Malta.
  • 1850--In Malta, the Korbin Corrective Facility is built by WLA, who is recognized as an "internationally renowned architect".
  • 1854-1958--WLA and wife Annie Esther Eedes are involved in a very messy divorce (more on that in a later post).
  • c 1859--WLA marries Elizabeth Harris.  
This is where things get a bit fuzzy.  He is rumoured to have been one of Giuseppe Garibaldi's personal doctors (he had 23).   While this does fit into his timeline very neatly, there are no facts to back this rumour up.  He also seems to have been trained as a doctor in Nova Scotia, but again, we have not been able to verify this.  His daughter Lucy Anne Ellinor was born during this window as well, but her date of birth has not been confirmed.  From here on, things become clearer:
  • 1865--WLA is listed as a graduate of the Homeopathic Medical College of Philadelphia.  
  • 1865-1868--WLA practices medicine in Philadelphia with three other doctors.
  • 1867-1868--WLA serves as the Chair of Psysiology, Anatomy at the Homeopathic Medical College of Philadelphia.
  • 1868--WLA is Professor of Physiology & General Pathology at the Homeopathic Medical College of Philadelphia.  This is also the year that his future daughter-in-law Rosanna Scott Richards graduates from the same institution. 
  • 1868--WLA retires and goes abroad
  • 1871--by this year, WLA is practicing medicine in St. Heliers, Isle of Jersey.  
  • 1877--by this year, WLA is living in London on Gordon Street.  Lucy Anne Ellinor marries Frederick Molison Burke.  A ship captain, Burke will later be knighted.
  • 1881--by this year, WLA is living in Wateringbury, Kent, England with fourty-one-year-old Elizabeth and 28-year-old Martha Dykes.  He is still in Wateringbury in 1883.
  • 1885--WLA purchases Goodwood.  He dies about 8 months later and is buried in the City Cemetery.  The funeral takes place at Goodwood and the services are conducted by Dr. Carter.
  • 1902--daughter Lucy dies in England. 
  • 1911--EHA and Martha Dykes move from Goodwood to 534 N. Monroe, near the corner of N. Monroe and Georgia streets.
  • October 10, 1915--EHA dies of a stroke on a train just before Jacksonville.  She had been visiting friends in Hague, NY, where, according to her obituary, "she had spent a pleasant summer with Miss Dykes and several friends.  The end came just before reaching Jacksonville, and her many friends were at the train here to escort the body to the city cemetery where the funeral service was conducted by the Rev. D. Garnell of St. Johns Episcopal Chuch."
  • February 2, 1916--Miss Dykes dies in Tallahassee.  The obituary describes her as "a well known and popular young woman." (She was 63!) She died of a stroke while attending a social gathering at the home of Mr. & Mrs. John W. Henderson. 
To sum it up, Dr. Arrowsmith began his career as a civil engineer in London.  He was then sent to Malta to become Superintendent of Works and Affairs and later as the Collector of Customs.  He fathered three children who survived to adulthood and was in a messy divorce.  He left Malta for London after the death of his ex-wife.  He then married Elizabeth Harris and fathered another child, Lucy Anne Ellinor.  After who knows how many adventures (or maybe no adventures), he became a Homeopathic doctor in Philadelphia.  He both taught and served as a department chair before moving to the Isle of Jersey.  He then moved back to London, then left London for Wateringbury.  In 1858, he moved to Tallahassee and purchased Goodwood and transformed it from a working plantation to a country estate.  He died eight months later.  Elizabeth stayed on, with Martha Dykes, until 1911, when she sold to Mrs. Tiers.  Elizabeth died four years after the sale of Goodwood and Martha died the year after that.  

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Goodwood Grounds--March 29, 1961--Part Two



Standing on the balcony of Main House looking
over Gray Cottage
Pathway between Main House and Old Kitchen, looking towards Gray
I can't see this well enough to know which building this is.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

A Christmas Card from the Collins

Margaret saved this card from 1961, the year that Gov. Collins left the Governor's Mansion, having served from 1954-1961.  They are heading towards their home, The Grove, which is next door to the Mansion.  The card reads:
As this year draws to a close we end an experience of rare challenge and enjoyment.
Not only do we say "Merry Christmas" and express our sincere good wishes for your health and happiness; we also thank you for your friendship, your confidence and your prayers.
They have deeply enriched our lives and will remain unforgettable always.
LeRoy Collins
In case they are difficult to read, the photographs are labeled:  Roy Jr., Jane, Mary Call Jr., Roy, Darby, Mary Call, Jane, John.  For more information about Gov. Collins, check out the Museum of Florida History site.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

1962 Christmas Card

In the Goodwood collection, we have a number of Christmas cards saved by Margaret Hodges Hood.  She usually saved only the front of the card, presumably for crafts.  This particular card, from around 1962, is no exception.  Only the first three paragraphs of the letter remain.
Merry Xmas!
Knowing that you are a student of history and of politics, I wonder what your opinion of the world situation is today?
I believe that President Kennedy will do some much needed work toward regaining American leadership if those right-wing Republicans will give him a chance.  Eisenhower left office without doing anything to strengthen us here at home, or abroad.
Do you like our present governor?  Frankly I am disappointed in him.  I did not vote for him in the first primary--but I did in the second.  In this area we are all burned up with him over the turnpike matter and his complete ignoring of the Ridge section of the state....
And there it stops!  President Kennedy served from 1961 to 1963.  Cecil Farris Bryant became governor in 1961, succeeding Leroy Collins.  The Florida Turnpike was advanced during his administration.   The Ridge section includes Polk and Highland counties, which the turnpike misses entirely.
From Florida Memory Project:  Gov. Bryant (center) breaking
ground for the Florida Turnpike

Monday, December 3, 2012

Mr. and Mrs. Edward Ball Christmas Card

Christmas is just around the corner!  We are preparing to decorate the Main House and several of Margaret's Christmas cards will be on display.  The inside of this card reads:

With best wishes for
A Merry Christmas
and a
Happy New Year

Mr. and Mrs. Edward Ball
The velum insert reads:
Florida's giant spring, the bowl of which covers four and a half acres, has a depth of one hundred eighty-five feet. The natural beauty of the Spring and the surrounding territory has  attracted attention for centuries. Explorations of noted archeologists indicate that there have been settlements on the banks of this Spring for something over two thousand years.
One of the earliest Spanish explorers in Florida, Panfilo de Narvaez, with his company of explorers and adventurers, spent the winter of 1529 at this Spring.
Ponce de Leon in his search for the Fountain of Youth journeyed with his entire company to this Spring and bathed in its waters.
Ships were built near this Spring by De Narvaez, very likely the first ships ever built on this continent.
After the United States acquired Florida and established territorial and state governments this Spring became famous for its political picnics. Before every general election aspirants for State offices attend the picnic and announce their candidacy.
In the past several years it has become even more widely known for its athletically trained fish that, the the amazement of the visitors and sightseers, pole vault whenever called upon to do so by the negro boatman.
The Wakulla Springs lodge and park was originally owned by Edward Ball, a prominent businessman who led the St. Joe Company.  The property was purchased by the State in 1986 and named the Edward Ball State Park.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Remembering Nadine, 1900

William C. Hodges wrote these lines in honor of Nadine Richards on October 29, 1900, while in Tallahassee.  
William C. Hodges, c.1900
LINES
I was a student in a school,
Learning to work and read by rule.
I met a little Miss,
With ruby lips just right to kiss.
Here cheeks were rosy like the mom,
Her gentle eyes were deepest brown.
Here hand was small and very fair,
And loveliest chestnut was her hair.
My heart was given to this young girl,
Willingly to change for a tiny curl, 
I told her I loved her, Oh so very dear,
All my studies I slighted a little, I fear,
After school we'd plan our future life,
With, of course, this maiden for my wife.
But partings come to all on Earth,
Sometimes on the street,Sometimes by hearth.
And so we parted one Spring-time day,
She wept bitter tears when I went away.
In time I wandered to a sunnier land,
Close to the ocean's shimmering sand.
Distance and time makes one forget,
The parting, the tear, the sad regret.
And letters at last come far between,
Each thinks the other cares not so I ween.
At last ours ceased to cross each others track.
None were sent and of course none came back.
As I sit at the eve, I ponder where she went,
And if life's pathway for her was straight or bent.
She was a sweet and tender child, 
Her face most fair, her manner mild.
She lived I know once tenderly,
The object--but a thoughtless Schoolboy me.
And as I wonder sitting in the eve,
Where does she live, what roof beneath.
I hope, ah truly! She is blest,
She's good I know.  May she have rest.
Nadine.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Nadine's Diary, The Last Entry

I will miss Nadine and her college adventures.  I hope that one day we will find out what became of her!  It has been an interesting view into the young Hodges.  Here he is, a handsome young man, with the whole world in front of him.  He seems sure that the worst that could happen to him would be to lose a girl.  Not too long after this,  he will experience the pain of losing his brother to a horse and buggy accident.  He will come through that to mature into a hard-driving achiever, although he would never lose sense of fun.
Saturday, December 1, 1894. Will and I made a \\\ on the floor.  They didn't go home till about nine that afternoon. Ge isn't that awful? They were so good to us. They went out.  Got some oranges, bananas, crackers and salmond (?). How we did enjoy it. Some one put a letter in our mail slide for Will addressed to our room. We all said it was a put up trick of Kettles and Garlands. They again started home after telling some tacky conundrums.  Clara and I cleaned up the rooms and washed. I did not go to dinner. Fred came home with Clara and as usual took the \\\. Lucy Thomas came over to borrow our iron. Guess she thought they were in the \\\ by the way she talked. Don't care if she did. She would like to have a fellow herself if she could get one. Ge my pants are scorching. Wrote in my diary.