|
a.
|
Note: chigan 9 May 1883. She was born at the home of her grandparents, Augustus & Eliza Leggett - 169 Elizabeth Street. Emma died --- in California, at age unknown. She married Kenneth I. Guest 14 June 1906 in Detroit, Wayne County, Michigan. Kenneth was born 26 May 1879 in ---. Kenneth died --- in ---, at age unknown. Kenneth & Emma had four children: James Whittemore 1907, Kenneth Jr. 18 August 1910-July 1983 [Santa Barbara, California], John Randolph 1913, & Elizabeth Leggett 1915. They resided in Glendale, California.
Send email to preparer: kalamcc@AOL.com California Deaths, 1940-97
Surname Given Name Middle Name Sex Birth Date Death Date Birth Place Death Place Social Security # Mother's Maiden Name Father's Surname
GUEST EMMA FARRAND FEMALE 9 May 1883 3 Feb 1948 ILLINOIS LOS ANGELES 0 LEGGET WHITTEMORE
:
[Letters from Eliza (Seaman) Leggett, (1815-1900), wife of Augustus Wright Leggett (1816-1885) to her granddaughter, Emma Whittemore (1883-?), later Mrs. Kenneth I. Guest, daughter of her youngest daughter, Blanche Irving (Leggett) Whittemore, (1860-1922) and James Whittemore, (1860-?).]
To grand daughter Emma Whittemore
The Willows
Drayton Plains, Michigan
Oct. 23d, 1887
The Willows - This is the name that is given to [thy] Uncle Mortimer`s [her son, Mortimer Allen Leggett, (1837-1930)] lovely home. [Thy] Uncle Percy [Percival Seaman Leggett, (1839-1863); her son, killed in Civil War Battle of Rappahannock] gave it the name of Nestledown - he said "it was so nestled down among the trees and look`d so cozey." But the long lane that leads from the public road so full of Willows is so much admired that every body by a sort of mutual consent - call it The Willows. I think this was the name of the place [in which was set] one of the pleasant tales of Oliver Wendell Holmes [Sr., doctor and author, (1809-1894)] in which grew the beautiful character of Biles Gridley. [?]
It is Sunday cloudy and cold - I am afraid that Uncle Mort won`t have his sail in his pretty pleasure boat - the Jenny L.
Dear little Emma, you will remember this dear Uncle - he is the kindest man to every body and to every thing to his horses and cattle and when he walks along his sheep - they run about him. It makes one think of the Bible stories of the good shepherd. I often look at him from the window of the lovely little sunny room where I sit and sew - it seems to me as tho the sun shone there all day long - I can`t tell you what loving thoughts are in my heart when I sew - or read - I am never lonely - for remember all the days of my Life and seem to live them over again.
Now Uncle Mort is watching Ferris [Ferris Seaman Randall, (1877-?)] and Chan [Chandler Corrydon Randall, (1881-?), brothers, sons of her daughter Anna Seaman (Leggett) Christian, (1848-1934) and her second husband, Corrydon Chandler Randall, (1846-1907)] play marbles. We are in the big sitting room - the famous great wood stove sends out its friendly warmth. The boys play as tho it was [is] a matter of Life and Death - both in dead earnest - as I watch them I wonder where the first game of marbles was play`d - and by whom. All these games have historical origin and meaning - I will leave the two pages if I can find something of the game to tell you. Breakfast is call`d. Ferris says, "You have got to toe the mark." This is a good motto.
There follows a brief description of marbles from the first edited edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica ever published in America in Philadelphia. It was given to Her husband [Uncle Mortimer] and to her [Jane Mais (Whitehead) Leggett, (1839-1874)] by William [Haight] Leggett, [(1789-1863)]. Little Emma, he is your Great Grandfather.
It is a dismal rainy day. I am in the little room - my beautiful basket of plants - [thy] Cousin Catharine [Mortimer`s daughter, (1866-?)] has just water`d - I have just read to Uncle Mort a great story about an invention of Edison. Oh! What will Electricity do in 100 years from now?
27 October 1887
This is a lovely day. I am sitting under the old clock by the front window in Uncle Mort's house. The cows are in my orchard and so are the sheep. I do like to look at them. I'm a little home sick today. Yesterday a big woodstove was put up in this room and I have to give up my pretty "Sunny Side" that is, Uncle Mort`s Bed Room, and for the last six weeks I have had it for my sewing room. There is a beautiful field at one side and the sheep were in it and there was a fine look away quite to Thaselaray [?] Plains and could see the homes and barns away off and the whole picture delights me. When we first came to Michigan, [thy] Great Granpa [William H. Leggett] took me to ride from Pontiac, for we lived in Pontiac one year before we came to Clintonville, and I was feeling pretty blue over the new Home and wondered when I could find such friends as we left behind us [in New York] - Well, when we took this side I saw such nice Houses Robert and Elisha Stewart and I thought well there much be nice people to build such nice houses - and I began to feel reconciled a little. Oh, it was a great trial to leave Roslyn [Long Island] such a lovely home and the many many dear friends - all our friends. The Seaman Ancestry came from Queens County and my [great] Grandfather Searing [John Searing, III, of Searing Town, Mary (Searing) Seaman (1744-1813), her grandmother]. Also the old homes of Both are still standing and such a host of relatives and connections are about the two Meeting houses too. One at Westbury, one five miles off at Matinecock [burned 1986, Thomas Leggett, 1755-1843), married his second wife there in 1808] and one at Manhassett. Then when we attended any of these there were so many who would come to us and shake hands and call us cousins and ask us to go home to dine with them. Often we did. The Quakers are the most social people in the world. Their hospitality knew [knows] no bounds. It was [is] the charm of their life to be social and such good dinner and good folks and when we came home always our carriages had some nice thing stowed away in it. When we came to Michigan I felt so badly to think that we should never go to Friends meeting again. Oh those separations from those social things that I so loved did make me sad. Well, one day [thy] Grandfather Augustus said, "Now Mother [wife] be happy there is a Quaker Meeting at Farmington twelve miles off. We will get up early on First Day (Sunday) and take the two boys [which ones?] and a basket lunch for we may not find the meeting or the Friends." So we did. It was a lovely Summer day and we got lost so did not find the meeting house until the meeting was nearly over. When it was out Friends came around to shake hands and to invite us to their homes and one old gentleman - oh very old - came forward and said, "I believe friends I have the best right - I am the oldest member of this meeting so will insist upon your coming with me and my daughter," so we went with Friend Lapham [?-?]. He said to those about, "Come over this afternoon," and to some he said, "Come over to dine with us, these are the [grand]children [and the two boys, great grandchildren] of Thomas Leggett [(1755-1843), father of William H. Leggett] of West Farms, I knew him well." We had a good dinner, friends are always provided with a bountiful larder, always ready for company. Friends cannot come too often. It is a great characteristic, perhaps the greatest, this their social life - this I have heard them say, is the only life we have to deal with. They felt [feel] that by fulfilling all social duties they were [are] at the same time carrying out the Laws as they believed [believe] them to be good and those that were [are] easily understood - such as
Love thy Neighbor
Do as you would be done by
Care for the Fatherless
Comfort the afflicted
Visit the Fatherless
And widows - among the Quakers the Widow was [is] a peculiar object of sympathy with them. The expenses of the Society were [are] sort of graded. My mother [Anna (Ferris) Seaman, (1771-1854)] was left when she was about 45 with a family of nine children. [Valentine Seaman, [(1770-1817), her father, died of tuburculosis aged 47.] I was two years of age. My eldest Brother, William [Ferris Seaman, (1797-1827)] still at his studies for a physician, the Society would not let Mother pay a thing for expenses of the Church although she had a large property. They said there were a lot of men and women called overseas that Mother needed what she had to bring [up] and educate so large a family. I look upon this as a remarkable feature in the Society of Friends.
Now I have wandered from my little story, I will often do this just as we often beat [?] from a conversation, but I will resume it again. Accept [it], this is my way. Well, when our visit with Friend Lapham and his family was over, the old, very old gentleman, would go to the Barn to see if the horses "Dick" and "Dan" had been cared for, for their care of the horse was a part of the hospitality and when he came to say farewell, we were ready to drive off, there was a pleasant little humor in his face as he said, "We will hope to see you often Friends but when you come again you may leave the lunch basket at home" - he had found our basket. We told [him] we thought we might lose our way and not reach Friends he said, "Well I know that any one in Farmington would have been glad to have entertained you and to have fed your horses. It was kind of you to find us out, come again." I think this Friend was over eighty.
Another time I said to Grandpa, Oh! I shall never meet any one here to talk with about my Uncle Jonathan [Jonathan Ferris, (c.1765-18??)] of Swanton, Vermont - he was my mother`s [Anna (Ferris) Seaman, (1771-1854)] brother and went long before I was born to Swanton and took up, he and my Uncle Elijah [Elijah Ferris [(1768-1842)] in partner[ship,] 5000 acres of land and there was a fine marble quarrey there and they got rich but only Uncle Jonathan lived there and he had a large family of children and twice a year he came to New York to transact business and always was with us for a few weeks, and he had hot great cakes of maple sugar and Indian Basket, so he was a guest personage indeed and we loved him. When he went home Mother sent to Aunt Ursula [must be the wife of Jonathan Ferris] and the daughters nice gifts of dresses and handkerchiefs. And then Cousin Helen [must be a daughter of Jonathan and Ursula Ferris] and her daughter came and spent a year in New York and Oh how I did love her. She was just goodness itself and now she [Helen] has just died, I got news last week - Well, while she was in New York I ran three needles in my hand and they broke but my Mother thought that I had gotten out all the pieces but my hand began to be very painful and swell and oh it did hurt and Oh dear I had lots of trouble and it kept me awake at nights and I had to have it poulticed day and night.
And our School in Rose St., [New York City] where I had been two years, was broken up, I was about 10 years old then and my sisters Anna [(1812-a. 1835)] and Marianna [(1810-1831)] and myself all hunted to give our dearly beloved teacher Robert F. Mott [?-?] a present but Mother thought that if Marianna and Anna gave each a present that it was not worth while for me to have one to give. This almost broke my heart. I did love him so and then too there was a hurt pride that all the schoolers should give him something and I, nothing but I did not let Mother know how badly I felt but I sob`d it out on Cousin Helen`s bosom - and she said, "Don`t cry I will get thee a nice present" - so she did, a nice gold pen. She bot it at Banfanti`s in Broadway. I felt so bad to have to shake hands for farewell with Master Robert and to have to lay the little gift on his desk with my left hand and I cried so hard that I let the little thing fall and that mortified me but he picked it up and look`d so kindly at me and pitied my pain. I was almost glad I did have the pain. Well, so it kept growing worse for a month and my brother Doctor [William Ferris Seaman, (1797-1827)] said perhaps he could lance it and that would help me. Perhaps a part of a needle was there yet. He was married to Elizabeth Hicks [(1805-1865)] and they lived in Pearl St. [No.] 300 just opposite to where [Edward] Howard [(1845-1927)] and Clinton [Huggins] Leggett [(1847-1937)] have their store [at No.] 301 [her nephews; the business, Leggett & Brother, closed in 1927] - so one day I was home and went to him my brother and ask[ed] him to take the needle out but he said, "I will do it at home so thee can have Mother to comfort thee if it hurts." Well, I could not get the courage to try again and one day Cousin Helen said "Eliza, if thee will have that needle taken out this morning when Cousin Doctor comes, I will take thee to see a great Picture - It is called The Coronation of Napoleon and it is very beautiful but [I] don`t want thee to let any of the other girls to know it." Well if this was not a great thing. The Doctor came I told him - he had the instruments, we did not let Mother know she set in her Bed Room a great deal and Cousin Helen was with me. Oh little me how formidable the little instruments did look. There was a long silver, a lancet-needle and thread but I laid my hand down - it did look sick. Dear gentle Brother said, "Thee will be home, little sister I will hurt thee as little as I can." And then the cut - and there was the needle just waiting and it was all over and my hand bandaged so nice. I ran up to Mother and she cried but was glad. Well these little Quaker eyes never saw such a picture. Oh dear I have seen it ever since whenever I wanted to look - and the cousin and my sister Anne - they found out where I went and they said they "thought it very mean that Cousin Helen did not take them [us]." And all that...[?]
So then I felt sorry when we came to Michigan [in 1853] not to have some one to talk [to about] all this with and Stanton [New York?], which to me has the greatest fair places and my Uncle`s [which one?] home beyond imagination it seem`d too bad. Well, one day [thy] Grandpa [Augustus] said, "Eliza, I am going to see Mr. Peck [?-?], would thee like to take a ride, it is but a little way." When I got there, there was a nice pretty girl visiting the family. She was alone and I asked her, "Where her [thy] Home was [is]?". "In Vermont at Swanton," she answered. Well, - well - and then the questions I put to her. - Yes, yes, she knew all about Uncle Jonathan`s family and the blessed cousin Helen. So Michigan began to warm up and has been for over 30 years and altho I have all the old appreciations of Long Island and West Chester and New York yet I dearly love the people and the homes I have had with this dear one of Mort`s will count many if I count them by the different houses I have lived in since we came. All of them have happy associations altho much that is sad but all seem hallowed.
Nov. 1st Tuesday 1887.
A lovely fall day. Shall I get a letter from Emma`s mama [her daughter, Blanche Irving (Leggett) Whittemore, (1860-1922)] today? Poor Mama, she has had such a hard time with her face. An ulcerated tooth - there can't be anything much worse while it hurts. I think she took cold when she took me to see [thy] Aunt Anne B. [Beardslee, wife of William Haight Leggett, (1840-1910), her son] while I was visiting with you where you now live on Seldan Ave. 191 [Detroit]. It was a very cold raw day, and we lost our way, and the poney of Aunt Anne's knew it, for he did not want to go the way we want[ed] one bit. What a funny time we had. Grandma [I] got out twice to ask the way. Well, Emma, when you are old enough to read this it will be strange to you to think that we should get lost near the Boulevard near [thy] Uncle Willie's - for them it will be getting to be down town. When [thy] Grandpa and I went to Detroit to live in 1864, [my?] Uncle Sam Ives [?-?] and ourselves kept house together, the second door from J.R. [John R.?, see below] St. - in Winder St. - Our friends said, "Why do you go so far out?" (So far from the City Hall.)
Our friends said, "Why do you go so far out?" so far from the City Hall, which was then but just built. (Note by B.W. [Blanche Irving (Leggett) Whittemore] 1890: This must have been some other city hall, because I remember this one being built years after.) I chose for my bedroom the back room on the second story, because the windows overlooked a farm that took in the next street and could see the loads of hay brot in and the workmen washing their hands before dinner and every thing was like the country. Above John R. there were but one or two houses that were nice to Brush St. And Brush St. was half like the country. When we came to Michigan in 1852 [1853, wasn`t it?] Campus Martus [?] had a speaker stand. I think it is the same that is now in the West Grand Circus Park [?]. And there was no street car and the steam cars ran only as far as Pontiac and a very bumpy road it was. Our party - Uncle Sam and his family and Grandpa and our whole family staid at the Michigan Exchange all that night. And the next day we came to Pontiac in and oh how hot it was - and when we got into the dusty town it was as forlorn a looking city - they called it - as I never expected to see. Indeed, my idea of a Western home was a very romantic one. Our whole Party stop`d at the Hodger house. Grandpa and Great Grandma came out with us. It was a big party. We had taken up the greater part of the Cars - which we had taken from Albany to Buffalo - then on the Steamer the "Ocean," Capt. Ward. What a company. There was [thy] Uncle Sam [Samuel Mott Leggett, (1820-1883)] and a Cousin Charlotte [?-?], his [Samuel`s] two children, Oscar and Julia [Oscar Coles Leggett, (1848-1916) and Julia Coles Leggett, (1847-1920), their mother, Julia (Coles) Leggett had died in 1850] - a nurse, and his coachman - two dogs and his birds. [Thy] Great Grand Pa William H. Leggett and Great Grandma Margaret [Peck] W.[(Wright)] Leggett, [(1794-1878)] Grand Pa Augustus & Myself - 2 servants and seven [of our] children - Mortimer, William, Aunt Minnie did not come out then - Anne, Elizabeth, Aunt Emma, Aunt Augusta - she was a little baby only
)
March 12th 1888
When I began this book I thought I would put in bits of history in a familiar way that you might have a little stock without study but I think differently now, so will just write something more adapted to a dear little girl`s thought - how I do wish, Emma, that I could make you know just what I used to do when I was a little girl like you. I did love the good Susan that was my Mother`s Cook, she was a handsome Mullatto Woman, and she wore a lovely Turban on her head of the gayest colors. She fix`d it so fancifully with a fancy knot over the left ear with ends so pretty - then she wore great gold earrings - as large as a bracelet, only they were round and I did love to see them dangle - always she dress`d so neat - with a check`d apron - the dresses that servants wore were made of blue linen plaid and streak`d with white and yellow. They were call`d servants because they serv`d their Mistresses and Masters. They were not allow`d in those days to dress like ladies in any way. If they did they would not be employ`d. Wages were low - six dollars a month was considered high wages and only first-class Cooks could get that - and they were cooks indeed and made everything excellent.
Susan had been a Slave but she had somehow got her Freedom - the good people called Quakers were always trying to bring about the freedom of the Slaves. Well, Susan`s husband was a slave yet, so he had to hide a good deal, but Mother let him come and stay at night with his wife. The Bed Room for Servants in those days was off of the kitchen so there is where the whole family of Susan`s slept. I loved to go in the kitchen and my Mother willing and the two little wooly heads and your Grandma used to frolic and roll about and creep into the great Brass Kettle under the dresser it was large enough to hold two of us. There were five Brass Kettles of different sizes and ruled to height. The little one would hold a quart and a pint and we call`d that "The Baby." The big one call`d "The Mother." The fire on the hearth blaz`d way up into the chimney and look`d so lovely shining into these kettles. There was a big big dresser and these kettles were on the under shelves. Then the next shelf had the Big Platters. Mother bot a set - blue and white and it has the pictures were taken from the Book called Dr. Syntax [a collection of the caricatures of Thomas Rowlandson, (17571827) English painter and illustrator]. Some day you will see this book and the funny pictures. Now I will tell you more about the kitchen, some where in this Book for I find that the next page written on. I love to tell about all this and I love to believe that you will care for it all - I hope so -
Will you Emma remember the nice visit I had with you when you lived on Selden Avenue 191 in Detroit, how you came running down the stairs and held my hand in both of yours - while your dear Mother had her arms about me. You said, "Grandma do you know why I hold your hand so tight? It`s because I love you so" - this visit was in October 1887. I came home on the 17th so that I could be with the dear Uncle Mort on his 50th Birthday on the 18th. The Sisters and Grandma presented him with a beautiful Rocking chair that just suited his back when he came in in the evening. How pleased he was - and Kate and May gave him a pretty Cuspadore and a Match stand - never very happy and Aunt Anne and Aunt Lizzie rode out on the 18th Tuesday and got here just at tea time and they staid all night and the next day after Breakfast went back to Detroit - and do you remember how your dear dear little Sister Margaret [Faye Whittemore, (c. 1887-?)] got burned on Sunday 9th of October by falling over the grate. Aunt Lizzie and Lulu Wall [?-?] and her little girl and Grandma were to take dinner at Mamma`s but Margaret was so burned that she sent her dinner over to Aunt Gussies and we all went there and staid all night and next day to your house - and do you remember the nice party that your Mother had for Cousin Harry Moulthrop [?-?] and his friend Mr. Stainhoff [?-?] and nice singing and dancing. Oh, I guess you don`t remember because you were put to bed early. I think your Father is so nice to put you early to bed, he is ever so kind, do you remember how he and Uncle Adolph [Adolph Barthel, (1844-?), native of Bavaria, who married Elizabeth Hicks Leggett in 1882; no issue] went hunting and fishing on Sunday the 16th of October and he brot home a little Rabit that he shot and how sorry you and Margaret felt about it - and Papa said, "the little Rabit ate up the old Gentleman Bondy`s Cabbage" - then Margaret said, "Why, of course he had to kill it if he ate up poor old Mr. Bondy`s Cabbages it was so naughty - you little Rabbit - you were very naughty."
When I can think of any funny things you little people say I will put them down. When Uncle Mort and Percy and Willie were little boys I began a journal for them and I kept it in a rambling way for 12 years. I remember how they used to hang over my chair in the evening when I wrote it. Sometimes one would say, "Now are you writing about me." Well, the old book is in Uncle Mort`s library it has been read a great deal. I will get the date I put it here when I began to write it, will tell you when you want to know how your dear Blessed GrandPa and all of us lived and enjoyed our year[s] at Hillside, Roslyn, Long Island. The Aunts Minnie [Margaret Wright Leggett, (1843-1928)], Anna [Anna Seaman Leggett, (1848-1934)], Lizzie, [Elizabeth Hicks Leggett, (1849-1912)], Augusta, ["Gussie" Leggett, 1851-1903)], Emma [(1845-1863)] were born there - it was a beautiful home on the hillside just overlooking the village below - a view of the Hempstead Harbor and far away the Long Island Sound, also a Lake under the Harbor Hill, looked very pretty and its waters turned the wheels of a Grist Mill and a saw mill. A Causeway connecting the two parts of the village when we first went there to live in [c.1841] - Uncle Willie [William Haight Leggett, 1840-1921)] was the Baby. He was born at Peekskill on the Hudson River about 40 miles from New York City. Grandpa and Grandma lived in many homes - first in New York City on Mercer Street 76 between Brown [?] and Spring - just back of the St. Nicholas Hotel. [All owned by William Haight Leggett, (1789-1863)] After that in a pretty cottage in Peekskill - Uncle Mortimer [Mortimer Allen Leggett, (1837-1930)] and Uncle Percy [Percival Seaman Leggett, (1837-1863)] were born in Mercer St. Two dear little Babies Catherine Maria [Leggett, (1854-1855)] and Henrietta [Eastman Leggett, (1855-1856)] were born at Mill Farm [Michigan] - they both died, just little bits of babies. Your Mother [Blanche Irving Leggett] was born at Mill Farm in 18[60]. We also lived one year at Pontiac before going to Mill Farm. After we left Mill Farm in 18__ we lived in Winder St. corner of John R in Detroit, Michigan not quite two years. Then we lived for three months in Lafayette St. West in Detroit then five years in the old brown House No. 169 in the old numbers Elizabeth East then 169, in the old Bernheim House where little Emma Whittemore was born. Your Father and Mother were married at 169 East Elizabeth and Uncle Adolph, Aunt Anne [Anna Seaman (Leggett) Christian] and Uncle Corydon Randall were married there [the latter couple in 1874; it was her second marriage, after a divorce]. Little Lewis [Ives] the twin baby of Valentine [Ives] died there [18 months old; son of Margaret Wright Leggett and Lewis T. Ives]. Little Ferris [Seaman] Randall born there [1877]. The dear little baby Percy [Percival] of Uncle Mort died there [18 days old, July 1874]. Aunt Augusta and E. B. [Elisha Brook] Pease married in that home 169 [in 1871]. Percy S. [Seaman] Pease born there in [c.1872] and the blessed good Grandpa [her husband Augustus] died there on Monday Jan. 12 and was buried from there the 14 of Jan. 1885. In this book I will hope to tell you a great deal about all of this even if I only note them down.
[Sometime in 1893, or later.]
[Many of these subjects are dealt with in much greater (exhaustive) detail in letters Eliza wrote in 1888 to another grandchild, Augustus Wright Ives (18??-?), son of her daughter, Margaret Wright Leggett, (1843-1928) and Lewis T. Ives, (1833-1894). ]
So, my dear, thee wants the story of my life. Well, I suppose any one who lives as many years as I have must have something of value to hand on to the younger ones if they are interested.
First thing I must be born and that took place on the lovely ninth day of May in the year 1815. I was the youngest of ten children so was rather lonely in some ways. My father, who I want to tell thee somethings about, was a Doctor. He lost his first child from Small Pox, so went to England and learned from Dr. Jenner the use of vaccine to prevent Small Pox and came back to introduce it into New York.
He was thought crazy when the idea was suggested but tried it on his own children to show his faith, it was also used at the Poor Farm and later became common. He also started a school for the training of women for nurses, which was almost unheard of, as women were not supposed to be mentally competent, also he analyzed the waters of Saratoga.
My dear father died when I was a little over two years old. My mother was deaf, my sisters away at school and my brothers had gone out of the home for themselves. When about four I went to a school run by three maiden sisters and their father. I learned to say the ABC's forward and backward and also to make a small sampler.
Did I tell thee, my playmates when I was at home at 90 Beekman Street, were a half crazy housekeeper and an old colored cook's grand children? The little colored children and I would play hide and seek in the big old kitchen where the big kettles were large enough to hide ourselves in and some days in the old fireplace.
Our old cook's husband was a slave and she used to hide him and many other runaway slaves were hidden in our home and in the homes of many other Quaker families.
I also played with two skeletons in our attic which my brother had used in his medical school work. These I used to dress up and play with for hours.
Not far from our house lived Washington Irving and I heard him spoken of in such praise I longed to meet him. I would sit on our stoop almost every afternoon with a beautiful doll I had and hope Mr. Irving would stop and speak to me. People going from beyond my home to the City all had to pass our house - and I don't know but hope Mr. Irving did speak to me. I did admire him so. Oh! I was an odd one.
Later I went to Master Samuel [Mott]`s school when I had mastered the multiplication tables - using dead beetles to figure with. Master Samuel was a wonderfully good man.
The summer Mother sent us to Buckrum Island to stay with [her uncle and aunt] Joshua Cocks [?-?] and his good wife Susan [(c.1774-?)] - they were so good and kind. One summer my sister and brother and I were at the seashore. I was seated beside such a charming man who I later found to be the great Channing. [William Ellery Channing, the abolitionist, (1780-1842)] Oh! I was so happy to have had that talk.
...
(Continued under the Notes for Emma's husband, Kenneth Guest.)
Note: 113 i. Emma F.20 Whittemore(102) was born in Detroit, Wayne County, Mi
|
