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United States (United States) (search for this): chapter 1
their table I met one day a brilliant party of eleven or twelve gentlemen. Amongst them were Mr. Randolph, the Abbe Correa, Dr. Chapman, and Mr. Parish. It was an elegant dinner, and the conversation was no doubt worthy of such guests; but one incident has overshadowed the rest of the scene. The Abbe Correa——who was one of the most remarkable men of the time, for various learning, acuteness, and wit, and for elegant suave manners The Abbe Correa de Serra, Portuguese Minister to the United States, was member of three classes of the French Institute and founder of the Royal Academy of Lisbon.—had just returned from a visit to Mr. Jefferson, whom he much liked, and, in giving some account of his journey, which on the whole had been agreeable, he mentioned that he had been surprised at not finding more gentlemen living on their plantations in elegant luxury, as he had expected. It was quietly said, but Randolph could never endure the slightest disparagement of Virginia, if ever so <
New Hampshire (New Hampshire, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
he warned me that his pronunciation was very bad, as was that of all Alsace, which had become a part of France. Nor was it possible to get books. I borrowed a Meidinger's Grammar, French and German, from my friend, Mr. Everett, and sent to New Hampshire, where I knew there was a German Dictionary, and procured it. I also obtained a copy of Goethe's Werther in German (through Mr. William S. Shaw's connivance) from amongst Mr. J. Q. Adams's books, deposited by him, on going to Europe, in the cle. In the evening a considerable number of the members of the Convention came to pay their respects to Mr. Cabot (the President), and made a few hours very agreeable and interesting. Among them I recollect the modest and wise Mr. West, of New Hampshire, and the vigorous, decisive Mr. Hillhouse, of Connecticut. I, of course, learnt nothing of the proceedings of the Convention, which sat with closed doors; but it was impossible to pass two days with such men, and hear their free conversati
Quincy (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
d Mr. William Prescott. But my first real sight and knowledge of the world was in the winter of 1814-15, when I made a journey to Virginia,—then a serious undertaking,—and for three months was thrown much on my own resources, in the Atlantic cities, as far south as Richmond. I was provided with excellent letters to each city. Among the rest, the elder President Adams gave me several, that introduced me to persons very interesting and important in public affairs. When I visited him in Quincy, to receive these letters, I had a remarkable interview with him, which at the time disturbed me not a little. I was then twenty-three years old, and, though I had seen him occasionally, there was no real acquaintance between us. It was a time of great general anxiety. The war of 1812 was then going on, and New England was suffering from it severely. The Hartford Convention, about which I had known a good deal, from Mr. William Sullivan and Mr. Harrison G. Otis, was then in session. Mr.
Pennsylvania (Pennsylvania, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
, it seemed boyish; but his extremities were unnaturally protracted, and his hands and feet long and large. He talked but little at table. I was a good deal at Mr. Hopkinson's, who was distinguished for the union of wit, sense, culture, and attractive manner. He was the son of Francis Hopkinson, of the Revolution, who wrote the Battle of the Kegs, and whose works have been published. Mr. Hopkinson was a prominent lawyer, and, later, was Judge of the United States District Court, for Pennsylvania. His house was one of the most agreeable in Philadelphia, for Mrs. Hopkinson was a lady of much cultivation and knowledge of the world. At their table I met one day a brilliant party of eleven or twelve gentlemen. Amongst them were Mr. Randolph, the Abbe Correa, Dr. Chapman, and Mr. Parish. It was an elegant dinner, and the conversation was no doubt worthy of such guests; but one incident has overshadowed the rest of the scene. The Abbe Correa——who was one of the most remarkable m
Roxbury, Mass. (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
in one of the town schools of Sharon, and afterwards found similar occupation in the adjoining town of Wrentham. Being attractive in person, and more cultivated than most of her contemporaries, she early won the heart of Mr. Benjamin Curtis, of Roxbury, nephew of the Rev. Philip Curtis, long the clergyman of Sharon, who died in 1797. Young Curtis was graduated at Harvard College in 1771, when he was nineteen years old. They were married, when quite young, by the bridegroom's uncle. Meanwhilhe knew very well—that I was more occupied with Greek and Latin than with law-books, of which he had given me a very good collection. This collection, with many well-chosen volumes of classical and general literature, was stored in a house in Roxbury, when Boston was supposed to be in danger from the English in 1812. There were between three and four thousand books, most of which were sold when Mr. Ticknor went to Europe. In consultation with him, it was settled, that, after he had advi
New Jersey (New Jersey, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
her was put on horseback, and two men were hired to go on foot, with ropes to steady the carriage over the most difficult places. But we got through at last, and I enjoyed it very much, for it was all new, and full of strange adventure. I was eleven when I took this, my first journey. At Dartmouth College (or rather Hanover), we stayed at President Wheelock's. His wife was a daughter of a Dutch gentleman, governor of the island of St. Thomas, and connected with the Boudinot family, of New Jersey. Some of the furniture of her house, which I suppose she brought with her, made a curious contrast with the life about her. I remember that the sheets on my bed were of delicate linen, and that the pillow-cases were trimmed with lace. There were no carpets on the floors, and the cookery was detestable. I remember how I hated to sit down to dinner. Dr. Wheelock was stiff and stately. He read constantly, sat up late, and got up early. He talked very gravely and slow, with a falsetto
Hanover, N. H. (New Hampshire, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
d, until his death, which took place June 26, 1821, at Hanover, N. H., where he was on a visit to some friends. While he o sheep into this country, and a large flock kept near Hanover, N. H., received his constant care, and at one time became vaable and remunerative. His frequent fatiguing journeys to Hanover were chiefly for this business. The flock was not sold tio married William H. Woodward, a respectable lawyer in Hanover, N. H., and the defendant in the memorable case of Dartmouth t Lebanon, on Connecticut River. Dartmouth College, in Hanover, N. H., where my father was educated, was only a few miles ofthis, my first journey. At Dartmouth College (or rather Hanover), we stayed at President Wheelock's. His wife was a daughtgo every summer to see his father at Lebanon. It was at Hanover, at the house of an old and valued friend, that he died ofinal, and more with Pope, of which I read the whole. At Hanover, from 1805 to 1807, I was in Dartmouth College. One main r
New England (United States) (search for this): chapter 1
for moral and intellectual growth. His parents were of the true New England character,—firm in principle, amiable and affectionate, well insal founder of the earliest Savings-bank in Boston,—the first in New England, and the parent of numerous similar institutions, which have donas a very different thing to travel then, and in the interior of New England, from what it is now. The distance was hardly one hundred and tws undoubtedly better of the sort than any to be had elsewhere in New England. He received his pupils in his library, in his slippers and dref great general anxiety. The war of 1812 was then going on, and New England was suffering from it severely. The Hartford Convention, about oned ambition has broke out at last: he wants to be President of New England, sir! I felt so uncomfortably, that I made my acknowledgmentsportunity for seeing some of the most distinguished statesmen of New England. The next day, Sunday, was Christmas, but in Connecticut they
Saint Thomas (search for this): chapter 1
es, and the road was so rough and dangerous that my mother was put on horseback, and two men were hired to go on foot, with ropes to steady the carriage over the most difficult places. But we got through at last, and I enjoyed it very much, for it was all new, and full of strange adventure. I was eleven when I took this, my first journey. At Dartmouth College (or rather Hanover), we stayed at President Wheelock's. His wife was a daughter of a Dutch gentleman, governor of the island of St. Thomas, and connected with the Boudinot family, of New Jersey. Some of the furniture of her house, which I suppose she brought with her, made a curious contrast with the life about her. I remember that the sheets on my bed were of delicate linen, and that the pillow-cases were trimmed with lace. There were no carpets on the floors, and the cookery was detestable. I remember how I hated to sit down to dinner. Dr. Wheelock was stiff and stately. He read constantly, sat up late, and got up ea
Carmans River (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
at the age of twenty-two; and Augustus, who was lost at sea, on a northern voyage, at the age of eighteen. Mr. Ticknor was the only child of the second marriage. William Ticknor, father of Elisha, was a farmer, residing in Lebanon, N. H. He lived to a great age, dying in 1822, the year after his son. We give here some recollections of him, and of his own early life, dictated by Mr. Ticknor in the leisure of his last peaceful years. My grandfather's farm was at Lebanon, on Connecticut River. Dartmouth College, in Hanover, N. H., where my father was educated, was only a few miles off, and he liked to visit both. My mother went with him, and so did I, beginning in 1802. But it was a very different thing to travel then, and in the interior of New England, from what it is now. The distance was hardly one hundred and twenty miles, but it was a hard week's work, with a carriage and a pair of horses,—the carriage being what used to be called a coachee. One day, I recollect, w
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