CHAPTER I

.

_EARLIEST DAYS._

I WAS born in the town of Lee, Massachusetts, on the nineteenth day of October, 1781. The day of my birth was the anniversary of my father's forefathers' landing on this continent one hundred years before, and also of the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown—a surrender which really closed the Revolutionary war. My father, who was a dragoon all through the Revolution, was present on that occasion, and has often described the scene to us, telling us how the Germans wept as they laid down their arms, and how the British officers showed their bitter feelings by saluting the French officers on the American side, but refusing even to return the salutes of the Americans. It was hard for them, of course, but they certainly made the matter no better by such an undignified display of temper.

My father's name was Richard Corbet. His family came from Devonshire, and was a branch of a very old family in that country, as I was told when I was in England. Our first ancestor in this country was named Richard Corbet, like my father, and came over to Dorchester in 1680, bringing with him his family and a very respectable property. He first settled in Dorchester, where he was much respected, and from thence his descendants spread over the country. It is said truly that no man's worth depends on his ancestors; but yet I think it is very natural to wish to know something of one's progenitors, and to take a little pride in them if they are respectable people. (Alice says "progenitors" is a long word, but I tell her everybody has a dictionary in these days.)

I do not know that my father's family were remarkable for anything but a kind of sturdy, determined perseverance and honesty and a somewhat warm temper, of which I inherited my full share. They were always a good deal given to both reading and writing, and we have several journals kept by some of them which are very pleasant reading.

My mother's family were also of English descent, but came over at an earlier date. My mother was a daughter of Mr. David Evans of Salisbury, in Connecticut—a gentleman who was extensively engaged in iron works in that place. Before the Revolution he was accounted wealthy for those times and that country, but he gave very largely to the patriotic cause, besides lending a good deal to the government which he never got back again. However, he was always "well off," as the saying is, and gave his children, both boys and girls, an excellent education. He had two boys and three girls, all of them rather distinguished for beauty and talent, and of these children my mother was the youngest. I have never seen a more lovely woman than my mother, nor a woman with a more cultivated mind and taste, though she knew nothing of many things which girls study nowadays. She was rather quiet and retiring—not so brilliant as her sister, my aunt Lydia. But her cultivated mind was the least of her graces. I have never known a more consistent Christian than she showed herself in every walk of life, nor one who did more to make those happy who came in her way. Her health was never good. She had worked too hard when she was young, taking care of her grandmother, who was a helpless paralytic for many years, and she was always subject to nervous attacks and severe fits of sickness. People talk a great deal of the decay of female health in these days, but I never see any one have such hysteric fits now as used to be very common when I was young. But with all her hindrances, my mother accomplished more work than a great many who have the whole use of their time.

My father settled on a farm in Lee just before the breaking out of the Revolution, and built himself a very good house. When he was married, he took his bride home directly, without any wedding journey such as is the fashion now. Her father had furnished her with everything necessary in great abundance, and nobody could begin married life with better prospects, though even then there was a cloud of war hanging low in the sky, and certain mutterings of thunder which made wise folks foretell a storm. In the second year of their marriage the storm broke and separated my father most of the time for seven long years from his wife and child, for he went into the first regiment of dragoons which was raised in New England, and continued in the same till the end of the war, only coming home now and then for a few weeks at a time. He was in a great many engagements, passed through the disastrous winter at Valley Forge, and "assisted," as the French say, at the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, which virtually put an end to the war; yet he never had a serious wound nor a dangerous fit of sickness. During his absence my mother lived part of the time in her own house in Lee, and the rest with her father in Salisbury.

When the troops were disbanded, and things were once more in a settled way, my father and mother went to house-keeping again, and shortly afterward I was born, and named Olivia, after my mother's mother, and Yorktown, after a fancy of my father's, since I first saw the light, as I have said, on the very day and hour of the surrender. My mother has told me that she wished to call me Olivia Landon, after a favourite aunt of her own, but my father would not consent, because my uncle Landon's people were Tories. Uncle Landon adhered to the English side during the war, and was so much in earnest that, rather than not live under the king, he sold all his property and moved away to Halifax, after which we lost sight of the family. It certainly showed that he was sincere in his principles, for he had a beautiful place, for which he never got half its value, and he gave up a very good business. I don't think, either, that Halifax could ever have been a pleasant place of residence. Mother was very fond of her aunt Landon, and used sometimes to say that I resembled her—a remark which always rather annoyed my father, who could see no good in a Tory.

My two Evans aunts married after my mother, and both did very well. Aunt Lydia went to New York State. Her husband was a man of great influence, a large land-owner and much respected. Aunt Roxana, who was the youngest of my aunts, went to New Bedford on a visit to some cousins, and there she fell in with Roger Swayne of Nantucket, captain of a whaler, and married him out of hand. I have heard that her father was not exactly pleased with the match—not that he had anything against Roger Swayne, who was a most respectable man and well-to-do, but he did not quite like the idea of his daughter marrying a sailor, and a Quaker, as Roger was, at least by descent. However, he made no opposition, seeing that the young people were bent upon it, but gave her the same setting-out as he had done to her sisters.

I can just remember Roger Swayne and his wife being at our house on a visit shortly after their marriage. I thought he was the nicest uncle that ever lived, because he told us sea-stories and made us many curious things with his knife—ships and boats, and some more useful articles, for he whittled out a whole set of cedar clothes-pins for my mother, and mended her spinning-wheel for her.

Shortly after Roxana's marriage, Grandfather Evans died, and the family at Salisbury was broken up. Uncle David lived in the old house, it is true, but Uncle William went to Boston, where he married a rich widow, and succeeded to her first husband's business and property. He never came to see us after his marriage, and indeed lived only a little while.

My father's family mostly lived down in Connecticut, and were well-to-do farmers and mechanics. We used to exchange letters now and then, but postage was dear and mails very irregular. Father was always talking of taking mother to visit them, but a convenient time never came.

##