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Full text of "Record of the golden wedding of Rev. George Duffield, D.D. and Isabella Graham Bethune Duffield : celebrated by the family at the homestead in Detroit, September 11, 1867"

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New York, 1817. Detroit, 18G7 







September 1 1, IS67. 

"The Golden Dial of our home, 
To-day, marks fifty years." 



1102 and 1104 Sansom Street, Philadelphia. 


OF 1S98. 







Simply as a day, the lltli of September, 1867, ''so cool, 
so calm, so bright," was absolutely perfect, and the moon 
being full, and rising early, the night was as perfect as the 

" It was just such a day as this," said the groom, '' that we 
were married fifty years ago ;" and those of us who knew the 
extent of his weather-wisdom, could trust him on this point, 
when we could not trust others. 

This morning, it is reported that father did not take his 
triple observation of the thermometer, barometer, and dew- 
point weathercock, nor take his noon walk in the garden. 
His various grapes and multitudinous pears must, therefore, 
for this once, take care of themselves. What are all the 
trees in the garden, compared to the " family tree," which on 
this occasion puts forth all its leaves and branches, and covers 
itself with golden fruit ? 

Henry with Fanny, and the baby " that belongs to the 
family," is the only one that has not yet flown from the old 
nest. George and Augusta, with Sam and Maggie and Ed, 
are here from the prairies of Illinois. Bethune brings in 
Mary, and '' Georgie and Thunie Duff" from Grosse Pointe. 
Belle and the Doctor, Avith Morse and Duff, Bell, and 
Mamie Stewart, are also on hand from the Pointe, and all 
in good time in spite of patients and the State Fair. Sam 
makes a short cut through the garden, with Addie, and 
George, and Dan, and Babie Bell. All are present, save 
Will, whose old wounds have broken out again, aivl to whom 


traveling is just now impossible. Great is the regret ex- 
pressed that he and Louise, and Lulu and "Willie, are thus 
prevented from sharing in our general joy. " If the tele- 
graph could bring them bodily, they should be here yet." 

While this conversation is going on in the parlor, let us 
slip off for a moment with " the Major,"* into the study, and 
take a quiet observation of the groom, and the dear old bride. 

You would not look for Anything in the groom other than 
usual, either in dress or in manner, and you are not mistaken. 
" In accepting the situation" he has done all that could be 
reasonably expected of him, and, something more. The bride, 
however, has gone back to curls, and so much do they become 
her, that we only wonder she has not worn them always. 
Her dress is of fine black silk, trimmed with black lace 
seventy years old. In her cap are orange blossoms, mingled 
with autumn leaves, but it is evident that just at this par- 
ticular moment she is thinking of anything but dress. 

Few mothers can look back on such a history as her's. 
Well for her that the veil of the Future was only lifted day 
by day. 

And now, Henry, as the youngest of the family, and as the 
duly appointed marshal and master of ceremonies, leads them 
into the parlor. They enter arm in arm, take their seats in 
the two great arm-chairs, and for a moment the silence is as 
the stillness of death. All eyes are on the bride, whose 
thoughts are still less of the present than the past. Father 
takes up the Bible. It is a book for all times and all places, 
but where will he open it for the Golden Wedding ? Will he 
read the Golden Psalm ? 

Announcing neither chapter nor verse, he begins : 

" Then went King David in, and sat before the Lord, and 
he said. Who am I, Lord God ? and what is my house, that 
thou hast brought me hitherto ? 

" And this was yet a small thing in thy sight, Lord God, 
but thou hast spoken also of thy servant's house for a great 
while to come, and is this the manner of man, Lord God? 

» ir.nrv M. DulH.M. 

" And what can David say more unto thee ? For thou, 
Lord God, knowest thy servant. 

" For thy word's sake, and according to thine own heart, 
hast thou done all these great things, to make thy servant 
know them. 

" Therefore thou art great, Lord God, for there is none 
like thee, neither is there any God besides thee, according to 
all that we have heard with our ears." 

His heart, still full of praise to God, found yet further ex- 
pression for it in the cxlvi. Psalm. Then followed a truly 
patriarchal prayer, for children and for children's children, 
in which the most earnest petition of all others was for the 
absent one, entreating for him and for his, the best of all 
blessings, temporal and spiritual. 

At the close of this prayer. Bell asked and received, on be- 
half of her son, George Duffield Stewart, a special blessing 
from father, as the first of the second generation who had 
borne his name. 

We then united in singing, to " Old Dundee," with a 
piano accompaniment by Addie, that beautiful hymn of 
Doddridge, which our Father and our Grandfather Bethune 
had long since selected as 


O God of Betliel ! by whose hand 

Thy people still are fed, 
Who, through this weary pilgrimage, 

Hast all our fathers led ; 

Our vows, our prayers, we now present. 

Before thy throne of grace ; 
God of our fathers ! be the God 

Of their succeeding race. 

Through each perplexing path of life 

Our wandering footsteps guide ; 
Give us each day our daily bread, 

And raiment fit provide. 

Oh! spread thy covering wings around. 

Till all our wanderings cease, 
And at our Father's loved abode, 

Our souls arrive in peace. 


Sucli blessings, from thy gracious band 

Our humble prayers implore, 
And thou shalt be our chosen God, 

Our portion evermore. 

The singing over, George, as the eldest son, presented the 
" Golden Wedding" ring, which he did in these words : 

" Dear mother, as a testimony of our gratitude to God, 
and of affection for yourself, and as a further token of our 
abounding joy on this occasion, permit me to present to you 
this Golden Wedding Ring, with the request that you 
will wear it on the same finger as the other wedding ring, 
during the remainder of your life. May your last days be 
your best days, until you enter that world where they neither 
marry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of 

Putting the ring on her finger with a kiss, she kissed him 
in return, and then, with George leading, the children all 
joined in prayer for their parents. There are times when 
the thought that God " searcheth the hearts of the children 
of men," is a trouble to them, but now, when the heart was 
too full for utterance, how exceedingly pleasant and how 
great the relief of the thought, that there was no need of ex- 

uttered not, yet comprehended. 
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer. 

Then followed "The Children's Lyric" to the Parents, 
composed by Bethune. If poetry is the short hand of thought, 
it is also that of affection ; and never did we more appreciate 
the value of verse, than when, with fall eyes and faltering 
cadences, he read the following lines: 


The golden dial of our home, 

To-day marks fifty years. 
And golden stars, from far above. 

Drop down their dewy tears 
Of li"lit and love. 



Of light and love ! for liere still stand 

Fast by the old hearth-stone, 
The pair, who once in Love's bright land, 

Away in years long gone, 
Pledged heart and hand. 


" Father" and " Mother," sacred words, 

Still linger on our lips, 
Altho' their moon its golden horn 

Thro' silver cloudlets dips. 
Weary and worn. 


Weary and worn, but youthful yet. 

In life of heart and brain, 
And fresh with every household grace ; 

As meadows after rain. 
Make bright their face. 


And now, by silver sands they halt, 

And o'er Life's silver sea, 
The sun-burst of a golden day 

Lights up their jubilee ; 
While children pray, — 


That still their golden years may run, 

And golden wisdom fall. 
Like honey dropping from the comb. 

Or fruit from sunny wall. 
To bless each home. 


To bless and shield us, till the day 

Our pinioned feet shall rise. 
And tread with them the Heavenly coast 

Pifiyond these gnhlou skies, 
In glory lost ! 

When the Poet had received his jDroper reward, in a kiss 
from the bride, copies of the Lyric, printed in gold, and en- 
closed in a broad gold border, and surmounted by a beautiful 
monogram of the Betliune and Duffield initials, with tlie 
Duffield coat of arms inserted in the centre, were distributed. 
Those for the bride and groom were printed on white satin 


After this, the religious portion of the services was closed 
with the Doxology, 

" Praise Goil, from whom all blessings flow." 

The tcnJor solemnity of these services it is impossible to de- 

There was a depth of sentiment in them that at times was 
almost overwhelming. The solemnity of a funeral, without 
its gloom ; the sanctity of a sacrament, without its symbols. 
The Burning Bush could not have been very far off; we all 
felt like taking the shoes from off our feet, for the ground 
whereon we stood was holy. 

After a cordial interchange of kissing and congratulation 
on all sides, between the old and young, which was an im- 
mense relief alike to the mental and the physical system, 
the inexorable Marshal called us again to order, and said 
that the time had now come for the offering of presents. The 
first, the common gift of all the children, to be given by Bell, 
as the only daughter, and afterwards the several and suc- 
cessive offerings of the other children, to be presented in the 
order of their ages. Slowly the lid of the morocco casket is 
opened, and displays before the eyes of the astonished bride 
the Golden Record, to which Bell gives the following in- 
terpretation : 

Mother ! thy children bring thee on this day 

A chain, whose every link is graven with thy j^raise, 

The records of five decades in a noble life, 

The records of their earliest, brightest, clarlest days ! 

Tliy children call thee blessed in this gift, 

Marked tho' it be, with many a line of grief, 
Pointing to hopes long buried, 

Whose precious lives were brief. 

Bless those whom God has left, mother. 

That have cost a whole life's care. 
And a covenant-keeping God we know 

Will answer such a prayer. 

In these thirty-two medals, mother sees at a glance her 
whole married life, and all her children and grandchildren, 


living or dead. Each represents a member of the family, 
and is engraved with the' name, date of birth, marriage or 
death. The three generations are indicated by the different 
sizes of the medals, in the order of the families. The medals 
representing the children and grandchildren who have passed 
away, are marked with a ring of black enamel, and that of 
Henry's baby, the youngest of the family circle, is specially 
distinguished by a pearl. The chain terminates with a locket 
to contain the miniatures of Great-grandfather Dufiield and 
Great-grandmother Isabella Graham. To mother it is a golden 
record indeed, and we can well imagine that the hours she 
will hereafter spend over it, will not be few. Bell designed 
it, and we are inclined to think that none but a mother's 
heart, could have invented so appropriate a mother's record. 

The hint of the Marshal was no doubt a wise one, for the 
children and grandchildren to offer their gifts in the order 
of their ages,, but unfortunately for his order, the grand- 
children did not ''stand upon the order of their going," and 
the exact succession in which these presents were delivered, 
would puzzle the combined wisdom of the family to the end 
of time. However, we afterwards see them all arranged, 
under the Marshal's direction, in the north parlor, and find 
them many, and of various designs, all beautiful, many quite 
novel, not one inappropriate, and all offered in that spirit of 
love and harmony that ruled every affectionate and dutiful 
heart. Their manifold designs and great variety, as they 
henceforth appear, and re-appear, in the different uses for 
which they are intended, will long keep fresh before our eyes 
and within our hearts this memorial morning hour. 

The last of the family gifts was a Bible to father, com- 
memorating the recent united pulpit services of father, son and 
grandson, which was jointly presented by George Duffield, Jr., 
and Samuel W. Duffield, with the remarks by the latter, that 

" As ministers of the Lord Jesus Christ, partakers with 
you, as we trust, in the same blessed work, we can give you 
on this golden wedding day, no better, or more fitting gift, 
than the golden words of the Revelation of God." 


To which Father replied with much emotion, 
"There is none better, none more fitting, or appropriate, 
my sons. This Book is indeed more precious than gold, yea, 
than much fine gold. Make it your chart through life, se- 
lect from it all your themes of discourse, and arm all your 
preaching with a Thus saith the Lord.'' 
The cover bore the inscription : 

PsALii cxix. 72, 127. 


His Son, G. D , Jr , axd Grandson, S. W. D. 
to commemorate their 

Sabbath, Sept. 8th, 1S67. 


Matth. V. 8. Exodus xx. 12. Mark xii. 37. 

On the other cover were the words : 


Sept. 11th, 1867, 

detroit, michigan. 

The family congratulations are now succeeded by those of 
the beloved Church of which Father has been the honored 
Pastor ever since 1838, inclosed in an envelope, on which was 
printed in gold, 

Mr. and Mrs. Duffield, 

was the following letter : 

Detroit, Sept. 11th, 1867. 
Eev. George Duffield, D.D., 

Dear Sir : — In behalf of our congregation, I am most 
happv on this auspicious occasion, to hand you the accom- 


panying testimonial of their deep affection, and joyous sym- 
pathy with yourself and Mrs. Duffield, on this the fiftieth 
anniversary of your marriage. 

As a feeble token of the endearing ties by which Pastor 
and people are bound together,,! pray you to receive it, and 
with it our, heartfelt congratulations, and earnest prayers, 
that the beneficient Providence, which has for the past half 
century, preserved and sustained you amid the toils, and 
trials, inseparable from your high calling, will still continue 
to watch over, and care for you and yours, for years to come. 
With entire regard, 

I am most truly and sincerely yours, 

J. S. Fareand. 

Accompanying this letter was a pyramid of |5oO in gold 
pieces under a glass vase, which was brought in by Miss 
Mary C. Farrand, and at once assigned by the Marshal to a 
very conspicuous place on the piano. 

Letters were then read from the following persons, all 
fraught with the kindliest feelings and heartfelt good wishes, 
and formed a species of National congratulation, coming from 
all parts of the country. 

Mr. Alanson Sheley, a member of father's Session, tempo- 
rarily, at Saratoga Springs, N. Y. 

The Pastor, Bev. Ed. Wright^ and Session of the 1st 
Presbyterian Church of Stillwater, Minn. 

Preamble and Pbcsolution of the Common Council of the 
City of Detroit, Mich., a copy of which is given in the appen- 

John Wiegand, of Philadelphia, Penn. 

George H. Hofi'man, an elder of father's church, tempo- 
rarily, in New York City. 

Miss Mary C. Farrand, Detroit, Mich. 

Miss Mary Post, 18 Waverly Place, New York City. 

Also a letter from Mrs. Amelia M. Mason, of New York 
City, one of mother's bridesmaids. 


Mrs. Abbe Cook, the only one who was present both at 
the wedding of 1817, and at the gohlcn one. 

Mrs. Ann S. Alexander, Carlisle, Penn. 

Mrs. Dr. Myers, Carlisle, Penn. 

Ptt. Eev. Samuel A. McCrosky, Bishop of Michigan. 

Mrs. Mary Ann Hubbard, Boston, Mass. 

Mrs. Margaret Fuller, Buchanan, Mich., an old Carlisle 

Mrs. Sarah Scuddcr, Boston. 

Miss Carrie May, Maysfield, near Boston, Mass. 

lion. E. M. Blatchford, J. Miller McKim, Esq. 

Miss E. Marshall, Framingham, Mass. 

C F. V. Lothrop, Detroit, Mich. 

Verses by Mrs. Susan Dow, Detroit. 

In the lull preceding the dinner hour. Mother surprised us 
all by calling us out according to our ages and presenting 
each one with her written diploma, or certificate of character. 

The conception was novel, and the gift more precious than 
rubies. It was a certificate written out at length in her own 
hand, and assuring her children of her love, and her grateful 
and afiectionate remembrance of their devotion to her through 


all the trials and sorrows of her long and chequered life. 
" Knowing all this," she says at the close, " I feel bound, on 
this the golden wedding day, to give my children this cer- 
tificate of good behavior, which I do from my inmost heart ; 
that they may show it to their children as an incentive to 
honor their parents, and to comfort thei/i also (my own dear 
children), when wintry Time has shed his snows upon their 
heads." This beautiful diploma bore the author's signature, 
and her initials on a golden seal, from which flowed a blue 
ribbon, while on the opposite side was the photograph of her 
own dear face, smiling love and peace upon the children she 
thus has blessed. 

The witnesses, as written above in her own hand, beinsr, 
" My own heart," and " Thou God who seest me." 

Mother, we thank thee, one and all, for this thy heart's best 

After feasting our eyes on the beautiful presents, and our 
hearts on the still more beautiful letters that accompanied 
them, the Bride suddenly assumed the character of " Grand- 
ma," and led the way to a bountiful dinner provided for the 
Grandchildren. Here the mothers shoue out in all their 
glory, and though the fathers were permitted to get a glimpse 
of the little folks through the doors, and through the win- 
dows, yet it was very evident that they were entirely out- 
ra'nked in this department, and that Grandma was com- 
mander-in-chief. At least two of the grandchildren, Samuel 
W. and Maggie, so found it, who were born too early to come 
to that dinner, and were promoted to the next dinner, in the 
north wing, the dinner of all dinners ever served in that 
room before. 

Could it be possible that after fifty years. Father and 
Mother were still in their old places, and that so many of 
their ''boys" were once more together, to drop all other 
titles, and be addressed by their first names, as if they were 
still in their teens ? But if any one supposes that either 
time or appetite were lost in the way of sentiment, they are 
greatly mistaken. There were too many good things on the 
table, that reminded us of old Pennsylvania times, for that, and 
we thought that full justice should be done in the premises. 

Joy is a hungry passion, (?) and as at other wedding feasts, 
every one confessed to a better appetite than usual. "Whether 
"the Major" remembered ''hard tack" and his "quarter 
rations," at Chattanooga, we cannot say; but certainly he 
returned again and again to the charge, with unabated vigor, 
while in the matter appears, he was positively sublime. 

"To save time," as " the Major" suggested, but perhaps 
with an equal reference to the peai's and the grapes, the 
literary entertainment commenced during the dessert, with 
some chapters from the 




" CHAPTEll I ; 


" Our good father and mother, who now enjoy the rare jorivi- 
lege of celebrating their golden wedding, were united in the 
holy bonds of matrimony by the Eev. John B. Romeyn, D.D., 
on the 11th day of September, 1817. The ceremony was 
performed in the evening at Greenwich, then a suburban 
village of New York, at the country seat of the bride's 
father, Divie Bethune. Satins and thread lace having just 
then gone out of fashion, the bride was dressed in a silk 
skirt, with an over-skirt of India mull, and a broad flounce 
of elegant French needle-work, headed with a puff, and a 
broad bow of white ribbon at the side. The spencer was of 
thread lace insertion, and French needle-work ; the dress 
high in the neck with demi-sleeves; the gloves, long white 
kid ; the shoes, white satin ; the bracelets and brooch, of 
pearls. She wore her hair high, with a coronet of orange 
blossoms, and everybody said, including Madame Barber, 
who got her up for the occasion, regardless of expense, that 
she looked very beautiful indeed. Tradition says that she 
was more pleased with the coronet of orange blossoms, than 
anything else, and we are inclined to think that the groom 
was of the same opinion. The bridesmaids were Miss Amelia 
Murray, afterwards Mrs. Judge John L. Mason, Miss Mar- 
tha Coit, afterwards wife of Chief Justice Williams, of Conn., 
and Miss Sophia Duffield, a sister of the groom, and subse- 
quently the wife of Mark Hodgson, Esq., Chester Co., Penn. 
Mrs. Mason is the only bridesmaid now living. 

"The groom was dressed in a suit of black broad-cloth, with 


silk stockings <and pumps ; and according to the custom of 
the times wore fine cambric ruffles, white cravat, and stand- 
ing collar. His hair was curled on both sides, and how he 
looked we may have a pretty good idea from his miniature 
still extant, and which very appropriately is this day worn 
bv the bride. 

" His groomsmen were the Rev. W. W. Phillips, D.D., so 
long pastor of the First Pres. Church, New Yoi'k, Ptev. 
John Knox, D.D., the well-known pastor of the Collegiate 
Dutch Church, and Henry Duffield, M.D., of Newport. All 
three of whom are now deceased. So are Dr. Romeyn, Dr. 
McLeod, Dr. Eowan, Dr. McCartee, Rev. P. N. Strong, Rev. 
Henry Blatchford, and many other ministers who were then 
present ; and many other of the old merchants, and lawyers, 
and rulino; elders of New York. 

" The only survivors of that large and merry company are, 
so far as is now known, Mrs. Mason, Milford Blatchford, Esq., 
and Chancellor Mathews, of New York, and Mrs. Samuel D. 
Hubbard, of Boston, and Mrs. Abbe A. Cook, now present at 
the golden wedding. The bride has survived her father and 
mother, her only sister, and her only brother. The groom 
has survived his father and mother, two sisters and a brother. 
Yet strange to say, they were altogether the most delicate 
members of their respective families, and those who in all 
ordinary circumstances, might naturally have been expected 
to go the first. So we see " the race is not to the swift nor 
the battle to the strons;." Those of their children and srand- 
children who are the feeblest may take encouragement; 
those who are the strongest should be careful not to presume. 
The honey moon must have been a very pleasant one. Wo 
could tell a good many things that we have heard about their 
trip to Passaic Falls, and the daring leap of the bride over 
the Rapids ; of their stay in Philadelphia at the house ot 
Uncle McCartee ; of the good time at Newport, Del., at 
Grandfather DufS eld's, where they had the warmest of wel- 
comes, and eating and drinking, riding and driving, and 
sailing on the Christiana, in the groom's clinker built wherry 


to their heart's content ; but we must make them tell the 
story themselves. 

" Yet as all moons wax and wane, even the honey moon 
must come to an end, and accordingly we find the youthful 
pair leaving the hospitable mansion at Newport, and starting 
in their own private carriage for Carlisle, Cumberland Co., 
Penn., where father was settled as pastor of the old Presby- 
terian Church, as his grandfather, of the same name, had 
been settled before him. 




"■ On their arrival at Carlisle, they were received with 
great cordiality by the groom's cousin, Geo. A. Lyon, Esq., 
and remained as his guests, until by the friendly courtesy of 
Bishop McCrosky, Judge Wilkins, and others, then young 
students at Carlisle, who assisted them in receiving and dis- 
posing of their furniture, they were at length safely housed 
in the two-story brick on Lowther St. Compared with the 
log house just beside it on the corner, the brick house had 
decidedly the advantage, otherwise it was as plain and un- 
pretending as could be well imagined. You would hardly be 
prepared by what you saw outside, for the beautiful, and 
valuable furniture inside. That upright piano, John Broad- 
wood and Sons, maker, London, has a mission before it such 
as few pianos ever had ; and its music will never die out of 
some hearts, until the songs of earth are exchanged for those 
of heaven. That high post bedstead, of such goodly propor- 
tions, with its carved pillars and peacock curtains, had also 
its inission. 

" Three removes, it is said, are as bad as a fire ; if so, you 
can readily imagine how complete a conflagration would be 
produced by three times three removes ; from Carlisle to 
Philadelphia, fi'orn Philadelphia to New York, and from New 


York to Detroit. Of all the beautiful furniture of the two 
story brick house, made by Phyfe, of New York, and shipped 
to Carlisle, via. Baltimore, the piano and the bedstead are 
the only two witnesses left. The sideboard, indeed, with its 
dangerous array of port, sherry, and madeira decanters, to 
say nothing of cordials and brandy, at a very early period, 
found its " occupation gone" before the onward march of tem- 
perance ; but the mahogany book-case, with its glass doors 
and well-filled shelves, and the sofa, one arm of which is still 
extant in the bride's portrait, were worthy of a better fate. 
The greater part of the dear old gilt and blue china, however, 
escaped the numerous ills to which china is heir; and like the 
Sybil's books, what still remains is more precious than the 
original set. Yet, among the survivors, you will look in 
vain for ' that sugar bowl of blue,' except as it still lives in 
the immortal verse of the Family poet, in Mother's album. 

" But there was something more than furniture in that 
two-story brick. Scarcely had the married pair completed 
their first anniversary, when on the 12th of September, 1818, 
there was born unto them a son ; who, forty years after, was 
certified of the same, by the Ptev. W. E. Dewitt, D. D., of 
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, who, even at that late date, had 
not forgotten the original strength of the historian's lungs. 


"or, ' IIArPY EETREAT.' 

''This was also a two-story brick house, where the family 
removed in 1820. Situated about one mile west of Carlisle, 
on the Pittsburg Turnpike, and half hidden at the foot of a 
shaded lane, in the midst of Lombardy poplars and English 
cherry trees, it seemed to be well worthy of its pleasant 
name. Here I first became aware of my own conscious ex- 
istence, so far as memory serves me, in the laudable occupa- 
tion of building stick houses, and covering them with grass ; 


to entice little birds therein, that I might put them with 
mother's canaries. 

" My first recollection of mother, is like the Virgin Mother, 
with a child in her arms ; and so continually was this the 
case until I left home, and sat up in the domestic business 
for myself, that I can never think of her in any other atti- 
tude. The first recollection I have of father, is of a man in 
a red silk morning-gown, with a big Latin folio before him ; 
but who would occasionally relax himself from study, so far 
as to play upon a certain instrum.ent of four strings, operated 
on by a horse-hair bow, 

" My earliest recollection of ' Thune/ D. B. D., is that of 
a very determined baby, holding on by the balusters, and 
calling out to his Scotch nurse ' Rosey,' for his bottle. So early 
did his voice begin to yield him a livelihood, that he has con- 
tinued legally in the business, (not the bottle, but the law,) 
ever since. 



" In 1823 the family had removed back to Carlisle, to the 
house owned by the widow of Judge Brackenridge ; a house 
which I always think of as a hospital. Here, in 1825, 
mother heard of the last illness of Grandfather Divie Be- 
tliune. Here, in 1826, after a long and painful illness, the first 
Henry Martyn Duffield died. Here father opened the letter 
with the black seal, and found that he was no longer 'Jr.' 
Here it was, that the house at the foot of the alley burned 
down ; and your chronicler first saw the big fire hook to pull 
down houses ; and thereupon opened in haste the family Bible 
and began to read 1 Chronicles, chapter I., to keep the big 
hook from coming to our house. Here the house next to us 
did burn down, and the fire caught in the garret of our back 
building, and Mother stood at the head of the stairs with a 


baby in each arm, saying, 'Let tlie house burn, if I only 
have all my children safe.' I tell you what, I thought at 
that moment, that I had the best and bravest mother in the 
world ; and at a subsequent time, when Uncle George Be- 
thune spoke of her when in trials, as towering above the rest 
of her sex like a queen, I remembered the fire, and was 
of the same opinion. 



" A good thing it was for us all, when, in the spring of 
1828, we moved a little way out of town, to the house on the 
hill, built by Dr. John M. Mason, and which was to the family 
what the old homestead on Woodward Avenue is in Detroit. 
Still even here we were not exempt from the arrows of the pale 
destroyer. It was from this house our first sister Joanna was 
buried. Even yet her dear, sweet face is so vividly in my mem- 
ory, and so often and unexpectedly in day dreams and visions of 
the night, has it presented itself before me in times of trouble 
and anxiety, that I have sometimes been almost ready to 
believe, if such a thing was possible, that she was rny guardian 

" Thune and Will, and mother, and myself will never forget 
the stormy night, when father was down at prayer meeting, 
that we made believe that she was a little queen ; how we 
bowed down to her in the gladness of our hearts, when mother 
was playing for us on the dear old piano. How royally she 
swayed her sceptre over us, and how her eyes shone and 
flashed like diamonds, and her whole face was lighted up by 
the radiance of heaven itself. We all think Henry's baby 
is beautiful, and so he is, and well worthy of the Class cup ; 
but to me, perhaps, he is more beautiful than to any other of 
his uncles, because he has Agrhair, — and her eyes. One of the 
very first I expect to see in heaven is dear Joanna, but if I 


trust myself to say a word more about her, I shall break 
down myself, and mother too. The memory of this dear 
sister may be one reason why I loved that place so much ; but 
if I only had time to take those of you who have never been 
there up the long, green poplar lane, where we used to run 
races on glorious old Bob, and Mike and old Nell ; into that 
orchard where were juicy rambos, black heart cherries, and 
wild plums; where we used to ' fight apples,' Indian fashion, 
and ' bumblebees ' by the old willow ; where we had our 
' summer seats,' and where, between the two rocks, in the 
midst of lilacs, we had our grove of worship, and used to hold 
our boys' j)rayer-meeting; — if I could take you into that gar- 
den, and show you the finest grapes and peaches in all the 
country round, and the trenches and boxes incident to a des- 
perate attempt at cranberry culture ; if I could take you into 
that famous barn and barn-yard, and show you the pigs, and 
the chickens and the guinea hens, and the old rauscovy ducks, 
and the big turkey gobbler, and the peacock, to say nothing 
of pigeons and rabbits and squirrels, and the large array of 
canary birds elsewhere on the premises, and the smoke-house, 
and the ice-house, and the bath-house, and the chicken-coop, 
and the root house, all save the latter combined in one mar- 
vellous building, I am sure you would think it as rich a field 
for exploration as Herculaneum itself, and as great a paradise 
for boys as the modern Grosse Pointe. Poor old dog • Corny' 
was indeed there in the field with the solitary poplar, bar- 
barously murdered by John McCartney, who shot him for 
hydrophobia, to cure him of toothache ; but then we had 
' Toby ' and Lion, whom, tail in hand. Will must have trotted 
after ftir more miles than I would venture to sav. 

" One scene among many others worthy of recall, was the 
molasses scene, in the front spare bed-room up stairs. I see 
it all now, (I wish a painter could.) A whole gallon of mo- 
lasses, granted on one rainy day, to make into candy. The 
pans all greased for the taffy ; the butter all ready to draw 
it, the pot over the fire in the open fire-place, boiling under 
mother's direction ; Thune faithfully stirring, though per- 
sonally roasting the while ; AVill carefully looking on, in 


liapi'V expectation, and baby creeping round, threatening 
mischief. But alas ! ' there's many a slip twist the cup and 
the lip.' In an evil hour, in mother's temporary absence, 
and contrary to Thune's most earnest remonstrance, your 
unfortunate chronicler, determined to ' make a blaze ' and 
' hurry up the candy I' A few pine aha^ings, judicioush/ (?) 
applied, did hurry it up, I tell you I Thune stirred like 
desperation, Will cooly suggested there 'would be a time,' 
and cast a sheep's eye at your humble servant. And a time 
there was I Over went the ' liquid sweetness ' into the fire, 
heels over head went your unfortunate chronicler, to get out 
of the way of the explosion ; but in doing so, over went the 
gallon of molasses behind him, in a great puddle, right in the 
middle of the Brussels carpet I and just at that awful moment 
mother appeared ! 

' Tanqi'.aiii dcus c.r machina.^ 

x\nd maybe we didn't get " sweetened" some, and a little more, 
but not with molasses I That day had a melancholy close, 
as we chewed the cud of bitter reflection instead of the candy. 
Moral for all the grandchildi'en, " Don't boil your molasses 
too fast, or you'll miss your candy." 

But it is doubtful whether this moral was heard, so great 
was the explosion of laughter, and so many the tongues im- 
mediately unloosened, to tell of further pai-tieulars and simi- 
lar stories, that the rest of the chronicle was forgotten. A 
new attack was made upon the pears and grapes along the 
whole line, and had there been even so much as a single bottle 
of fother's " unfermeuted wine " on the table, sour as it some- 
how happens generally to be, we hardly know what would 
have taken place. 

The little folks looked on wiih astonishment, and some of 
those' who were older seemed to feel that we were all children 
once more, and that there were no grandchildren : and so the 
further reading of the chronicle was most unfortunately 
suppressed by the historian, not for want of matter, but for 
want of time. 


^\\t fifcnirij (Bntcrtainnuut. 

Dinner over, and tlianks returned, the Marshal, in such 
sort of procession as he was able to command, rallied the 
family forces into the library. The first paper presented was 
on the Dufiield Pedigree, and was introduced by father, with 
the following; remarks : 

" In starting out in life, I gave myself but very little con- 
cern about the past, or the future; as it was with the present 
I had to do. it was to that I principally devoted my atten- 
tion. I had no thought of what my father had,*"or what 
property he would be likely to leave. My wants had always 
been met, and provided for, by his indulgence. I knew that 
he had given me a good education, I may say a thorough 
education, both literary and theological; and now it was for 
me to show that these advantages had not been conferred 
upon me in vain. 

" I must also confess to very little interest or curiosity in 
reference to my pedigree. It used to amuse me sometimes to 
hear my sister, Sophia, telling of this and the other of my 
ancestors, but it was not a subject that I considered worthy 
of much time or study. Once when in the garret of old Dr. 
Samuel Duffield, of Philadelphia, I remember seeing my 
grandfather's ' old wig,' but the relic excited more of the 
ludicrous feeling in me than any other. Indeed I may say, 
that I had a sort of latent prejudice against genealogical in- 
vestigation, which probably arose from a remark of old 
' Pvuthy,' a superannuated servant of my uncle, ' that my 
great grandfather was nothing but an old Irishman.' She 
evidently not feeling any particular admiration for this na- 
tion, induced the impression that the less I searched into 
that matter perhaps the better. Still as I grew older, and 
learned from time to time more of the history of the family, 
in this country, and on the other side of the water, I found 
some things that were worth preserving, and that may 


possibly be still more interesting to my children. They will 
be found collected in the paper I am about to read." 


The surname of Duffield is of local origin, and derived from 
the township of Duffield, in the county of York, England. 
As early as 1315 we find a Pi.ichard de Duffield was bailiff of 
York ; in 1348 a Thomas de Duffield, and in 1375 a Ptobert 
de Duffield, holding the same office. Some of them were 
ecclesiastics, like Nicholas de Duffield, rector of Bolter 
Percy, in 1327, and William Duffield, who in 1434 was made 
archdeacon of Cleveland, in the Cathedral Church of York. 
The name is variously spelt in the different register-books at 
Ripon, as Duffeld, Duffeilde, Duffylde, and Duffeild. The 
clan of Duffields enjoyed great privileges connected with the 
Forest of Galtres, which extended from York to Aldboro, 
about six miles Irom Ptipon, in the neighborhood of which 
city they continued to possess property for many generations. 

By the certificate of the Ulster King of Arms of all Ire- 
land, we find that the Duffield coat of arms is ''entered to 
the name of Thomas Duffield, of Pipon, Yorkshire, and that 
a branch of that family of Duffields settled in Ireland, one of 

whom, • Duffield, was married to Mary, daughter of 

Charles Willington, of Ballymena, Ulster, in the county of 
Antrim, some time before the year 1720." 

Rev'd William Duffield, pastor of a Presbyterian church in 
Doncaster, gives an account of a certain William Duffield 
who spelt his name Duffill, and whose children's names were 
George, William, John, Mary, and Henry. As this George 
Duffield, son of William, however, was born in 1727, we 
have not yet reached the precise link of connection between 
the Duffields of Ireland and those of America. But there 
are several circumstances that indicate very definitely some- 
thino; much more than a mere coincidence. 

1. The George Duffield, of Salisbury township, Lancaster 
county, Penn., from whom we trace our more immediate 
descent, was born in Ireland, A.D. 1690. 


2. He was born in Ballymena, Antrim co., IreUintl. 

3. His eldest son's name was William, from which, accord- 
ing to the well-known family custom, we may infer that the 
name of his fother was William Duffield. 

4. The names of three of his sons were the same as those 
of William Duffield, of Ireland, viz. : George, William, and 

0. In signing his last will and testament, where the ut- 
most accuracy was required, he spells it " George Pufel," — • 
though his children are named in the body of the will " Duf- 

6. He seems to have inherited the same family charac- 
teristic, which has continued down to the present time, of 
many sons, but few daughters. 

The probable theory, then, of our family origin is — 

1. That the father of George Duffield, born in 1090, was 
William Duffield. 

2. That he, and other numbers of the clan Duffield, became 
Protestants and came over to Ireland in the times of the 

3. That this WiUiam Duffield and others of the same name, 
either directly or indii-ectly, derived their names, though of 
course not their descent, from Archdeacon William Duffield, 
who died and Wiis buried in the Cathedral Church of York, 
A.D. 1452. 

The Archdeacon '' gave his soul to God Almighty, St. ^ary 
and all saints.' 

The ruling elder of the Church of Pequa says, " I give, 
and recommend my soul to God who gave it me, and my 
body to the earth, to be buried in a decent manner, at the 
discretion of my executors." 

George Duffield, the patriarch of Pequa, was a man in all 
respects well worthy to be the founder of a family. He was 
a Protestant at a time when men understood what Protest- 
antism really was. He was a Calvinist, who loved Flavel's 
works so much as to bequeath them to his oldest son, in his 
will ; and Ambrose's " Looking to Jesus" so much, as to present 

it, ill his own beautiful and clerkly hand, to his grandson. 
He was a Presbyterian, and as such, believed in the parity 
of the clergy and preferred that form of government to every 
other. Pie was a man of education himself, and gave a lib- 
eral education to each of his four sons, who seem to have 
loved and reverenced him as a father in no ordinary degree. 
Nor was he less faithful and affectionate to " his well beloved 
wife, Elizabeth," with whom he must have lived long enough 
to have celebrated their " golden wedding," had they been 
so disposed; kind, amiable, and gentlemanly, in his deport- 
ment, always a man of his word, of the strictest integrity in 
business, a devout and contemplative Christian, you will 
look in vain for his name as a party to a lawsuit, or among 
the browd of office-seeking politicians. 

The tradition that still lingers in the church of Pequa, 
" that he was a man whom every one loved, and of whom all 
spoke well," we have every reason to believe, was not without 
real foundation. So true is it, that " a good man leaveth an 
inheritance to children, and to children's children,'*" 

His son, George Duffield, D.D., was a third son of the 
above, his first child born in this country, who was or- 
dained at Carlisle, Pa., 55 years before myself, on the same 
day, of the same month, removed thence to Philadelphia and 
became pastor of the 3rd Presbyterian Church. He was ap- 
pointed by Governor Morton, of Penn., on the Gtli day of 
July, 177G, chaplain to the Pennsylvania forces, then ten- 
dered to Congress in the service of the cause of liberty ; and 
served at intervals during the Ptevolutionary War as a joint 
Chaplain with Bishop White, of the Continental Congress. 
He was one of the most prominent framers of the Constitution 
of the American Presbyterian Church. His son, George Duf- 
field, inherited many of the characteristics of his grandfather, 
both in personal resemblance and in his natural disposition, 
and character. 

For further partfculars in reference to our family geneal- 
ogy, I refer you to the book of Record which George has 


prepared, and which contains true copies of the following 
documents : 

1. Printed account of the Duffields, of Ripon and Coverdale 
county, York, England, forwarded to me by Rev'd Ptobert 
Dawson Duffield, who seems to have taken more trouble to 
collect information about the Duffields than any other person 
of that name. 

2. An extract from Sir Barnard Burke's visitation of the 
seats and arms of the noblemen and the gentlemen of Great 
Britain and Ireland. 

3. The certificate of the Ulster King of Arms. 

4. Letter from Eev'd Pt. D. D. Duffield. 

5. Copy of the will of George Duffield admitted to Probate 
A.D. 1774. 

6. List of William Duffield's descendants, furnished by 
Miss Marv Bell, of Hagerstown, Md. 

7. Letter of Miss Mary Bell. 

8. Letter of Prof. John Duffield, Princeton, N. J. 

9. Letter from Ptev. Richard Webster, the Antiquarian, 
formerly Secretary of the Presbyterian Historical Society. 

10. Copy of the genealogical table of the family, as com- 
piled and kept by me in the Family Bible. 

To which Book of Record I have attached the following 

I hereby certify that I have this day, Sept. 4th, 1867, 
compared the above with the records in my possession, and 
find them to have been correctly copied. 

George Duffield. 

Detroit, Mich. 
The document having been read, father concluded by say- 


" And now, my children, I have but a word more to say. 
Your mother and I cannot, in the ordinary course of nature, 
expect long to remain with you. As to death, either as to 
when or in what manner it is to take place, it is not a matter 
of anxious care or solicitude Avith me. I do not allow myself 


to dwell upon these circumstances further than this, that I 
know they are in the hands of Infinite Wisdom, and of Infinite 
Love, and there I leave them. I only care to go steadily on 
and do the work of life to which I have been called." 

Paper II. was then read by Mrs. Isabella Graham Stewart, 
and listened to with deepest interest from beginning to end. 
It was entitled 

A woman's chronicle. 

In gathering together what we know of our family on our 
Mother's side, we find the simple names of Hamilton, Mar- 
shall, Graham, and Bethune. 

Without doubt, were we where all the records of these 
families have been assiduously kept, we would trace each, 
through its various ramifications, back to blood as "blue" as 
the most fastidious aristocrat might desire ; but what would 
all this knowledge avail to us or our children, compared with 
the more important point of which we have authentic proof — 
that on this side of our family, also, we come of God's no- 
bility — that by direct entail from our Mother, we are " heirs 
of the promises." 

Our ancestors and ancestresses have been more careful to 
preserve their record as Christians, than as nobles. 

From their love of the Covenanters, we have reason to be- 
lieve, that Janet Hamilton, wife of John Marshall, was born 
of the blood of Andrew Hamilton, of Drumclough, who stood 
so staunchly by his Covenanting brethren. She was the 
great-grand niece of John Knox, of anti-popish memory, and 
" her father was an approved elder of the Scottish Seces- 
sion Church, which he joined with the Erskines (Ralph and 
Ebenezer), and the traditions of the family carry the strain of 
sanctified blood farther back than records or memory of 
names enable us to roach." 


Her's is the first generation wliose letters we now possess. 
Her own, by their simplicity, perspicuity and pathos, show 
her to have been a woman of most superior education, rare 
common sense, a clear business head, and a heart as patient 
as it was tender and true. 

Through her husband's injudicious endorsements for a 
visionary friend, the later years of her life were spent in 
somewhat straitened circumstances. Yet even then, she 
did not hesitate to take the infant son of her dau2;hter and 
son-in-law, Isabella and John Graham, when the latter was 
ordered to Montreal, and from thence to Fort Niagara, which 
was at that time the very outskirts of American civilization. 
It is evident, from the correspondence of this mother and 
daughter, interchanged after the death of this little child, 
that he had been the legacy of Isabella Graham to her 
mother, Janet Marshall ; and these letters breathe a spirit of 
reconciliation as well as submission to God's will, that would 
put to shame those wlio make idols of their griefs. No higher 
tone of piety, no more faithful, unselfish, steady adherence to 
the narrow way to which our Saviour points, can be found on 
any family record, than Uiat of our great-grandmother Mar- 
shall. A woman fitted to shine in every circle of society, she 
still executed, in the quietest manner, s-uch menial service 
as her straitened circumstances rendered necessary. The 
burden of her prayer seemed ever to have been, 

Teaeli me my God and King, 

In all things Thee to see, 
And what I do, in anything, 

To do it as for Tiiee. ' 

A servant, with this clause. 

Makes drudgerie divine. 
Who sweeps a room, as for Thj' laws, 

Makes that and the action fine. 

What wonder that in the hands of such a mother, the char- 
acter of her daughter, Isabella, was moulded to almost perfect 

x\t the age of twenty-three, this, her only daughter, was 



married to Dr. John Graham, who was at that time a widower 
with two sons, by a former marriage. If these facts were the 
source of any regret on her part, we can scarcely know, for 
although she confessed to "eating her pleasant things with 
bitter herbs," she elsewhere expresses her regard for her step- 
sons in this wise : 

" Eemember to give my love to my dear children. I reckon 
all that sprung from my dear Doctor mine, and though I did 
not suffer a mother's pangs for them. Heaven knows how 
equally I love them, with those who cost me dearer. Tell 
them I leave them a mother's blessing." 

Upon these two sons was entailed what of private fortune 
Dr. Graham possessed. " The eldest, Samuel, after a career 
of honorable valor, attained the high rank of General of the 
forces in Scotland, and Governor of the Eoyal Castle of Ster- 
ling. James was arrested in his military career by receiving 
a shot through his body at the siege of Charleston, South 
Carolina. He, however, survived his wounds, and subse- 
quently married a lady of that State." 

As late as 1846, I remember meeting at tea, at grandma's, 
the brother of Mr. John Drew, formerly of Detroit, who had 
com.e out to the United States for a few months. This gen- 
tleman was the man of business of a Mr. Graham, who was 
the grandson of great-grandfather Graham, and sent by Mr. 
Drew a most affectionate letter to grandma, whom he called 
his dear Aunty Bethune. Mrs. Drew, who accompanied him, 
told me that this James Graham, (I think that was the name), 
was the son of Samuel Graham, and, I believe, had a title, 
but it really was so long ago, and wc care so little about those 
sort of things, that I have forgotten exactly about it. 

One thing I do remember, however, and that is, that after 
the lapse of more than half, perhaps three-quarters of a cen- 
tury of separation from his Scottish relations, he had not 
forgotten a lesson, which had evidently been well taught, i. e., 
to show his regard to his father's step-sister whom he had 
never seen. 

When Dr. Graham tiius began life, as it were, anew, he 


cherislied a plan of settling in America, somewhere on the 
line of the Mohawk Eiver, and was glad to relinquish his 
private, and not unremunerative practice in Paisley, for an 
appointment as surgeon in the 60th regiment (Royal Ameri- 
can) British army, hoping, should he still desire to make his 
permanent home in the colony of New York, to dispose of his 

This somewhat vague, and far from well digested plan, was 
the first leading of Providence towards the establishment of 
great-grandma Graham and her descendants in America, 
In 1770, grandpa Graham died, in Antigua, leaving his wife, 
with three daughters and the prospect of the son that was 
born to her, not to him. 

Her letter, written after this great sorrow, to her sister- 
in-law. Miss Margaret Graham, is one of those pitiful out- 
cries which even God's dearest children utter, when thus 
suddenly bereaved. Yet while she was crushed to the earth, 
to yield up the life of her husband, the one great joy of her 
existence, she was permitted in time to know the peace of re- 
conciliation, and the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, 
came and dwelt forever more within her heart. 

From thence she took God at His word. In laith her 
orphaned children were cast upon Him who had promised to 
be '' a father to the fatherless," and although she labored day 
and night for their daily bread, she was seldom burdened ; 
her offspring were " the seed of the righteous." 

Here is no place to recapitulate the life that grandpa 
Bethune has so faithfully depicted in his " Memoirs of Isabella 
Graham." A book that has lain by the Bible of many a saint 
of God — who took heart from this record of what Pie, who is 
ever ready to save, did lor one poor widow, who trusted Him 
in this their day. And shall it not lay side by side with our 
Bibles, and those of our children ? It is the simple story of 
a plain but chequered life, which was sustained and culmina- 
ted in fLiitli and prayer. You all know her good works, tell 
them to your children. At our own mother's knee we have 
heard many a talc that we must tell again, for were they put 


on paper, they would lose their sanctity. It needs a mother's 
voice to hallow reminiscences that 'are too pure for criticism ; 
but most of all, show them how she looked down the stream 
of time, and pleaded, like Israel of old, ^hat God would con- 
firm His promises, and keep His covenant with her children, 
and her children's children, to the latest generation. Upon 
us rests the entail of His grace, and our children are by far 
the largest number of her descendants. Pray God that we 
may keep it in the blood, till the great day when we give an 
account of our stewardship. 

Great-grandma Graham was the mother of five children, 
Isabella, Joanna, and Jessy, one son died in infancy, and the 
other, John Graham, was believed to have been captured by 
a French cruiser, and died as a prisoner of war in one of 
their prisons. Isabella married Mr. Andrew Smith, of New- 
York. Her only descendant, known to us, is Mrs. M. Bry- 
son, now residing in Scotland. Jessy, a very beautiful woman, 
married Mr. Hay Stevenson, and died within a few months 
after her first confinement, leaving a son, who subsequently 
died without issue. 

Our own grandmother, Joanna Graham, married Mr. Divie 
Bethune, in 1795, in the City of New York. We all remem- 
ber Grandma Bethune, her small person, her peculiar ways, 
her long histories of that child of her heart, the New York 
Orphan Asylum ; and yet, how few of us knew her, and re- 
cognized, as we should have done, her extraordinary mental 
and moral force. Possessing great shrewdness and common 
sense, as well as a remarkable executive ability and judg- 
ment, there was sound reason for her generally believing her 
own way to be the best one. Intolerant of interference from 
those wdio had given but a one-sided view to acquisition of 
importance, she won for herself the reputation of imperious- 
ness. Perhaps none of her granddaughters had more entirely 
her afiection than myself, and, I can truly say, that she was 
indulgent, kind, affectionate, generous, and pains-taking, in 
her attentions to those whom she believed sincere. She was 
a thorough Scotch woman at heart, although she fiercely re- 



pudiated the insinuation that she was not an American. 
" Was I not born at Fort Niagara, en the American side, too, 
and have I not lived here all ray life, except just sixteen 
years?" Yet she would read aloud to her grandchildren who 
might be with her, such of Scott's novels as best developed 
Scottish character, Old Mortality, The Heart of Mid Lo- 
thian, &c., until some of us have been trained to feel that 
Scotland is the next dearest spot on earth after our own 
native land. 

The life of Mrs. Joanna Bethune, which was published by 
Harper & Bro., in 1864, and purporting to be by her son, 
we grieve to say was utterly unworthy of the subject and the 
so-called author. The bald facts in the book are strictly 
true, but to have appreciated Grandma Bethune's character, 
one should first have admitted her faults, and then counted 
her virtues. Susceptible of flattery, and easily beguiled by 
all sorts of impostors, which was perhaps the result of her 
overweening devotion to public charities, of a hasty and im- 
perious temper, she was nevertheless earnest in good works, 
patient in instruction, willing to make the greatest self-sac- 
rifices for any charity in which she was engaged, and appre- 
ciative of the like in others, and having a remarkable facility 
for teaching the voung. 

She was withal a woman of immense personal courage. 

Our mother has often told us of how, while she and grand- 
ma were driving through one of the less respectable streets 
of New York, they heard the shrieks of " Murder, murder," 
uttered in the most agonizing tones, — she called instantly to 
the footmen — "Stop the carriage, open the door." "Oh! 
Mrs. Bethune," groaned the man, powerless to resist. " Do 
as you are bidden," was all her reply to his feeble protest. 
In an instant the coach halted before a miserable tenement 
house, and grandma made her way through the crowd of 
men, who had gathered around the area window, where a 
tragedy was evidently being enacted. Singling out one she 
gave him the explicit command, " Go for a policeman," and 
then on she went into a low room where a ccicrantic and in- 


furiated negro was holding his child's head back upon the 
table with one hand, while the other clasped a long butcher 
knife, just ready to cut the poor little creature's throat. 
His wife was senseless in the corner of the room. With a 
voice like a trumpet, and an eye that compelled obedience, 
she said, " Lay down that knife : let go of the child in- 
stantly." The huge brute cowered before the magnetic 
force of this frail and slender little woman, whose indomit- 
able spirit knew no fear, and in a moment more the police 
came to the rescue, and led him manacled to prison. 

Long before any other respectable man or woman's foot 
found its way into the Five Points, Grandma Bethune had 
been prospecting there. She gave the work her whole heart, 
and strength ; but she frankly confessed that but for the 
Lord helping her, she would have flinched from this under- 
taking. In 1831 her prayer is recorded : " Blessed be God 
that he has put it into the hearts of some of his servants to 
make the attempt to reclaim the moral waste at the Five 
Points. Publicans and harlots eo into the kino-dom when 
God has purposes of mercy towards them, before many proud 
professors and formal hypocrites. But oh, my God, bless 
and further the work of education among the young. Let 
not race after race be trained to be rods in thy hand to visit 
our neglect upon our children, and children's children. May 
we soon see an edifice rising in that quarter where all the 
youth, from the babe to the youth of sixteen, shall be trained 
up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and witness 
them not departing from it when they are old." Has not 
this effectual fervent prayer been fully answered ? 

Grandma Bethune wielded the pen of a ready and forcible 
writer. Clear, explicit, concise, whatever she wrote, was 
always telling in its effect, and no more exquisite epitaphs 
were ever framed than some which are memorial stones in 
the chapel of the Orphan Asylum, There is one of an Israel- 
ite, and another of a soldier, whose dying bequests left their 
all to the institution. In the former it was tens of thou- 
sands, in the latter but a few dollars of back pay. Yet the 


delicate tact and grace of the acknowledgment of their gifts 
has so commended itself to the hearts of all who read, that 
no city charity in Xew York has ever been so blessed with 

Capable of the highest literary career, she was content to 
teach children, and she brought to the work no common pa- 
tience, perseverance, and ingenuity. Her last pupil was her 
great-grandson, whom she taught to read, and though the 
task was somewhat complicated, by the childhood of youth 
in the one, and the childhood of age in the other, it was 
finally accomplished to the credit of both parties. 

Her Scripture Lessons for Children, the Ten Command- 
ments, the Life of Josepjh, the Infant-school Hymns, etc., 
w^ere the profitable results of her leisure hours. In her long 
life was no misspent time. 

If her mother and grandmother had known the uses of 
adversity, Grandma Bethune was tested by that severer trial 
prosperity. She lived to the great age of ninety-three years. 
After four-score, her busy brain had so far worn away the 
pivot on which the compass needle of her soul had turned, 
that it w^as only in her dreams she " saw heaven and the an- 
gels going up, up, up, all the night long." These later years 
were labor and sorrow, and finally when justice to the insti- 
tution, which she had so dearly loved and faithfully served, 
rendered the acceptance of her resignation as first directress 
of the New York Orphan Asylum absolutely necessary, the 
Board, with a feminine appreciation and taste that has no 
parallel, voted that the name of Mrs. Joanna Bethune, while 
living, be publi.shed ahove the names of the Board of Direc- 

Each of these three ancestresses were women of great in- 
dividuality of character, singleness of purpose, and faithful- 
ness of heart, whose life illustrated in her turn, some sore 
trial, and some rare perfection. Yet in the end, God granted 
to each the prayer of Agur, " neither poverty, nor riches, 
but food convenient for her." 

The Bethunes were men of science, adventure and enter- 

o — 

prise. Centuries ago, they iiad been counted famous physi- 
cians, and so high was the appreciation of their peculiar 
ability in this profession, that the Isle of Skye actually makes 
free leases and gifts to provide for the adequate support of 
a Bethune, as resident physician there, and also for the pro- 
per scientific education of a son, or one of the name in each 
generation. Since the sixteenth century, the shrewd Scotch 
sense seems to have recognized that the practice of medicine 
was not alone a science, but also an art, and that this family 
were rarely gifted in this particular. 

When Grandma Bethune found two of her arrand-daug-hters 
had married physicians, she expressed the highest satisfac- 
tion, that the old profession of the Bethunes and Grahams 
was coming into the family once more. They were also men 
of enterprise, seldom rich, and having no great taste for 
trade, they nevertheless struck fearlessly out for new homes 
in the various unoccupied foreign possessions of Great 

Our own grandfather was the son of a widow, of whose 
care, foresight, and self-sacrifice, he makes honorable men- 
tion. Her husband died when her little family of two sons 
and two daughters were all quite young. Agnes married 
^Ir. Kenneth McKenzie, and her posterity are probably liv- 
ing at this day. Janet remained single, and died at a great 
age, over eighty, I believe. 

George, who was a physician, and our own grandfather, 
•Divie Bethune, then a youth looking forward to the profes- 
sion of the law as his business in life, went to Jamaica 1789 
or 90, where there is the record of other Bethunes havinsr 
gone before. 

Dr. Georsre Bethune and his brother Divie settled in 
Demerara, but the pestilential moral atmosphere was so 
thoroughly distasteful to our grandfather, that at the risk of 
forfeitino; his brother's afi^ection he left him, and in 1791 came 
to New York City, at the age of nineteen, having only his 
education, and two willino; hands with which to win his 
bread. In twenty years he had not only gained wealth, 


wliicli was of minor importance, but he had given tone and 
character, as well as system, and an active impulse to public 
benevolence, especially such charities as contemplated the 
spread of the gospel, and the conversion of souls. His per- 
sonal liberality was of a quiet, undemonstrative kind. One- 
tenth of his income was devoted to the Lord, and it is odd, 
in looking over his private accounts, to see how promptly, 
even when a very young man, he disposed of a surplus hun- 
dred dollars, usually iu sums of twenty-five, in every direc- 
tion. An earnest Presbyterian, and a ruling elder in the 
churches of Drs. John M. Mason and John B. Romeyn, he, 
Avith John E. Caldwell, did more than any other laymen in 
the General Assemblv to e;ive character and force to the 
eldership in ecclesiastical bodies, and make it a co-operative 
power with the ministry of the church. 

Withal, he was no sectarian, although by the most thorough 
courtesy he prevented any one from manifesting sectarianism 
at his expense. He was a finished English scholar, and in his 
writings, his prayers, his meditations, his hymns, and his cor- 
respondence exhibited a style simple, chaste, and fervent. 

He had a marked taste for versification, which indeed quite 
ran in the blood on our mother's side. Great-grandma Gra- 
ham, Grandma Bethune, and Aunt Jessy, all having a'. similar 
gift. But he never arrogated to himself the name of a poet. 

In later years, his only son, our uncle, George Bethune, 
struck from his heart, as it were, a few such glowing verses, 
so full of the fire of genius, that the world named him indeed 
a poet. Our own father has often said that he never met 
with a man whose conversation charmed and benefited him 
more than Grandpa Bethune's. 

In appearance, in his youth, he was brown haired, with 
deep blue laughing eyes, a tall fine figure, as the record says 
of so many of his predecessors, he was "a handsome stately 
man." In his later years, his white hair, his courtly pres- 
ence, his noble face, and courteous bearing, made him a 
marked man, in a time when it was less easy to attract atten- 
tion as a gentleman, than in these present days. 


At the time of his death, and for years afterwards, there 
was an earnest desire that a proper biography of a life so 
replete with characteristics and incidents might be prepared ; 
illustrating how noble and valuable a man, a Christian mer- 
chant could become, and showing what moral tone, what 
moral uprightness, what integrity, and what perfect honesty 
he exampled to the men of his day. Alas, Uncle George and 
Grandma were so jealous of having the work well done, that 
it was never undertaken at all. 

Great-grandma Graham summed up her testimony as to 
his character as a man, and a Christian, in words which were 
the judgment of a rarely just woman, and the simple truth. 
These were her words : 

"■ He stands, in my mind, in temper, conduct, and conver- 
sation, the nearest to the Gospel standard of any man or 
woman I ever knew as intimately. Devoted to his God, to 
his church, to his family, to all to whom he may have oppor- 
tunity of doing good, duty is his governing principle. Least 
upon his care under God, he nourished me with kindness ; we 
have taken sweet counsel together, and walked to the house 
of God in company." Nearly half a century ago, and this 
mother and son both entered into rest. '' One sepulchre 
contains their sleeping dust, and one monument is reared as 
a testimonial to two servants of Jesus Christ, the one a ruling 
elder in his church, the other a mother in Israel, who, like 
Enoch, walked, with God, like Abraham obtained the right- 
eousness of faith, and like Paul finished their course with 


Divie and Joanna Bethune left three children. 

Aunt Jessy, the eldest, who w^as the wife of Eev'd Ptobert 
McCartee, D.D., of New York City. She was the mother of 
eleven children, ten of whom survived her. A woman of 
fine poetic genius, pleasant temper, and most lovely Christian 
character. Twelve years ago she breathed her last. 

Uncle George, his youngest child, was the son for whom 
both he and his wife had prayed, as did Hannah of old. Like 
Samuel, he was dedicated to the service of the Lord, " or 


ever lie had seen the light." To train up a son that he 
might preach the gospel of peace, had been the desire of their 
hearts, and from his birth, the burden of our grandfather's 
prayers had been, " Oh Lord, make him eloquent. Let 
him speak with power to those who hear him," and God did 
according as he asked. He gave him a tongue of fire ; he 
granted him that subtlest of gifts, the expression of emotion, 
in such a mighty manner, as to make and control the emotions 
of others. Better is it that the Lord choose for us, that we 
fall into the hands of the living God, for this same eloquence 
was a two-edged sword ; it gathered around him those who 
were charmed by his words ; too often they " adored the 
priest and thought they worshiped God." ''Like all promi- 
nent and powerful men, it was his lot to have the most de- 
voted of friends, and to encounter the prejudices of many 
who either could not, or would not understand him, and who 
therefore often withstood him. The infirmities of such a 
man are more readily magnified, because they stand out in 
the lustre of those great gifts which elevate him above the 
common mass. His temptations, too, are of no ordinary 
nature, and when these are increased by the accidents of 
social position, wealth, piiblic engagements, and large expe- 
rience in the world, they afford fresli fuel for envious detrac- 
tions, and make more work for his own repentance." 

There is something so insidious in flattery, that many a 
time and oft, he was beguiled into the very outermost verge 
of the whirlpool of a gay and pleasure loving world, by some 
dear friend who loved him for his many gifts, for his genial, 
glowing, red-hot heart,' his fearless independence, his rich and 
genuine humor and wit, that " cut, as well as shone." He 
was the idol of every coterie that it suited his somewhat fas- 
tidious taste to enter. " Inheriting the strong features of his 
Scottish lineage, with the especial traits of his mother, his 
temperament was ardent and impassioned, his intellectual 
faculties were quick, active, and keen, and with all this 
robust vigor were blended poetic gifts, oratorical powers, 
high ambition, and literary tastes, in similar versatility, har- 


mony, and proportion. Ho was, indeed, "a many-sided man," 
but his foundations were builded upon a rock. No allure- 
ment of the world could take from him that precious trust, 
the sure hope of that new life which, in 1822, had come to 
him when he confessed the Lord Jesus Christ, under the 
ministry and guidance of our own dear father, for it was he 
who, under the providence of God, had taught this brilliant 
uncle of ours how to search into the depths of his own heart, ' 
how to know that greatest of mysteries, himself. Father ! 
there are many jewels in your crown of rejoicing, but no 
purer gem can be found there, than he who then vowed him- 
self to the service of Christ. Then it was he took for his own 
prayer, '' Lord, pardon what I have been, sanctify what I 
am, and order what I shall be, that thine may be the glory, 
and mine the eternal salvation through Christ our Lord." 
After his death these words were again found in a small 
Greek testament that was his bosom companion ; thus, through 
thirty years of labor, trial and temptation, he had constantly 
expressed his repentance, his consecration, his submission, 
his adoration, his "faith, and his final hope. 

When his dying father gave him this parting charge, " My 
son, preach the Gospel, tell dying sinners of a Saviour ; all 
the rest is folly," he knew what a life work lay before him ; 
and from thence he hid himself behind the cross, and called 
his hearers to its bleeding sacrifice. 

This minister of God, this scholar, this poet, this orator, 
this warm, rich, genial hearted gentleman, who was a marked 
man in the nation, died the 27th of April, 1862, and with 
him passed away the last heir to his father's name.* 

Our own dear mother, Isabella Graham Bethune, fifty 
years ago, set out in life as helpmeet to our father, and both 
of whom we gather here to-day to honor, is all that is left of 
the blood of the Bethunes. 

The wife of a clergyman, the mother of fourteen chil- 
dren, six of whom lie in the church yard at dear old Carl- 

« Dr. Bethune expired in Florence, Italy, witliiu a few hours after the delivery of 
his last sermon 

isle, and two sleep quietly upon the hillside of Elmwood, 
where father has prepared a. sepulchre for us and ours ; and 
but six of us remain. 

Let us thank God for our mother, and for the line of 
mothers, that have each bestowed upon her some good gift, 
but most of all, that she learned, from her father's precept 
and example, " to take duty as her governing principle," 

Her life has had its hard work, her sacrifices have at times 
seemed many and bootless. Now all that struggle and strain 
is over ; yet, alas ! with it has gone much of the strength 
and elasticity that has so long sustained her. On this, her 
Harvest Home, may we, her children, and her children's 
children, prove her reward. 

Let us, therefore, " arise and call her blessed," for she has 
wrought wondrous tliina-s for us. 

Paper III was then read by the Marshal, being the 



The Duffields are pre-eminently a fighting race ; as obsti- 
nate, strong-willed, and plucky a family as ever drew sabre, 
or handled musket. 

The old retainers who rallied and fought under the banner 
of the silver doves, were rarely conquered, and still rarely 
surrendered. The cognizance upon their banner indicated 
the two prominent traits of family character. The silver 
dove, bearing the olive branch in the crest, and the escutcheon 
bears three snow-white doves upon its field, giving to the 
family the name of Dove-field, since corrupted to Duffield, are 
typical of a harmless and inofiensive race. But the device or 
motto, " Pro Deo, Amiciset Pteipublicse," is by no means dove- 
like or submissive, and seemingly at variance with the peace- 


fill crest and escutcheon. The family history unravels the 
mystery and reconciles the apparent contradiction. It proves 
that so long as the Duffields were allowed to have their oiV7i 
way in all things, they were " harmless as doves," and in every 
respect worthy of their peaceful crest. But if their religion, 
their friends, or their native soil was molested, then their 
warlike motto was adhered to with stubborn tenacity or 
dogged courage. Far back as we can trace their history, 
they have ever been " enemies in war, in peace friends." 

Our earliest history of the race dates back to 1470, when 
Edward IV. made his escape from the Castle of Middlehani, 
where he had been retained as a prisoner by that sturdy king- 
maker, Kichard de Neville, Earl of Salisbury and Warwick. 
The monarch, accompanied by his brother-in-law, Anthony 
Woodville, Lord Scales, reached the gates of York at mid- 
night, and demanded admission. Woodville was a bold 
soldier in the field, but had a true soldier's dread of treachery 
and imprisonment. He urged pushing on to London. Why 
stay at York surrounded by those who wore the Bear and 
Ragged Staff, the cognizance of Warwick, to be again be- 
trayed and imprisoned ? But the king turned a deaf ear to 
such counsel, and would not be persuaded. He tarried at 
York until his friends rallied around them, and regained his 
throne. Had Lord Scales seen the Silver Doves, and read 
the motto upon the banner fluttering from the battlements, he 
would not thus have given timid counsel to his liesre and kins;. 

o o o 

The lord of that castle had served with Edward in the war 
of the Eoses, had fought by his side at the battle of Ton ton, 
and subsequently fell in his defence at Barnet, stricken down 
by the fatal axe of Warwick. All honor to this true and 
tried soldier, Sir Richard de Duffield, Baron of Lino;ard. Let 
us ever cherish his memory, as the worthy progenitor of our 

The family at this time were faithful followers of the 
House of York ; and fifteen years afterwards Sir John de 
Duffield fell at Bosworth, in defence of the tyrant Ptichard 
III. Durino; the civil war the Duffields fouQ-ht on the Parlia- 


mentary side. Charles Duffield was killed at tlie battle of 
Edgeliill, where the Ptoyalists were victorious, and Edwin 
Duffield fell at Newberry, where the cavaliers were defeated 
in 1642. 

James Duffield commanded a troop of horse under "William 
of Orange, and fell at the battle of Boyne, in 1G90. 

That portion of the family which emigrated to this country 
fought bravely on the Continental side, in the war of inde- 

Lieutenant Edward Bogart Duffield, of Harper's Ferry, 
Maryland, was killed at Saratoga, in 1777, and Captain John 
Potts Duffield, of Snow Hill, Delaware, was wounded at York- 
town, Virginia, in 1781. 

Our common ancestor, Rev'd and Col. George Duffield, 
served throughout the war of Independence as Colonel in the 
Pennsylvania line of the Continental army. While the army 
was in camp, and no enemy visible, he was chaplain, and 
preached the Gospel of ''peace on earth, good will to men." 
But in the presence of the enemy he was Colonel, and " under 
fire" the Gospel of peace gave way "to the sword of the 
Lord and of Gideon." 

His wife also was the sister of a soldier. General Armstrong, 
Secretary of War under President Jefferson, and son of a 
soldier who had served bravely throughout the French and 
Indian wars, and who, as colonel, commanded the post at 
Carlisle, Pennsylvania, and built the old church at that 
point, as a block-house and protection against Indian attacks. 
During the war of 1812, we find the Duffields again in the 
field. Surgeon John Duffield served with General W^illiam 
Henry Harrison. Lieutenant Henry G. Duffield went down 
in the last desperate charge at Queenstown Heights, and his 
cousin. Captain John F. Duffield, lost his left arm in carrying 
the battery, posted upon the key point, at Lundy's Lane. 

Three Duffields served through the Mexican war. Captain 
John H. Duffield, of the 1st Tennessee Eegiment. Colonel 
Campbell was wounded and captured at Cerro-Gordo. Lieu- 
tenant Samuel B. Duffield, of the same regiment, was 



wounded at the Siege of Vera Cruz, and Lieutenant William 
W. Duffield,* of the 2d Tennessee Eegiment (Colonel Haskell), 
was wounded and captured at Coatyacolcoas, and subse- 
quently wounded at Cerro-Gordo, in 1846. 

During the recent rebellion the Duf&elds were divided. 
On the rebel side, Colonel Charles Duffield was killed at 
Corinth, Major Samuel T. Duffield fell at Malvern Hill, and 
Captain Edward Duffield died from wounds received at Pea 
Eidge. All these rebels, but brave soldiers, fell gallantly 
fighting on the wrong side : may they rest in peace. 

On the Union side, Lieut.-Colonel William W. Dufiield, of 
the 4th Michigan Infantry, and privates William Duffield and 
John Duffield, of Company A., in the same regiment, reached 
WashinD;ton in Mav, 1861. Lieut.-Colonel -Duffield was sub- 
sequently promoted (September 14th, 1861), Colonel of the 
9th Michigan Infantry, was appointed President of Examin- 
ing Board, and published the third volume of " U. S. Infantry 
Tactics." In January, 1862, was assigned to the command 
of the North-western (23d) brigade; was appointed Briga- 
dier-General, April 28th, 1862. "" In May, 1862, was desig- 
nated commander of the forces in, and Military Governor 
of the State of Kentucky. In March, 1863, he resigned, 
having been disabled by two severe gunshot wounds, and 
been captured at Murfreesboro, Tennessee. He would be 
with you all, were he not confined a close prisoner by the re- 
cent breaking out afresh of an old wound, which prevents 
him from leaving his home in Kentucky. Private William 
Duffield was promoted a lieutenant, and was killed on the 
Peninsula during the seven days' battles. Private John 
Duffield was promoted sergeant, and died of wounds received 
at the same time. 

Lieutenant and Adjutant Henry M. Dufiield, of 9th Michi- 
gan Infanty, served with his brother, Col. William W. Duf- 
field, and on his brother's promotion, was appointed Adjutant 
General of the brigade, and served as his brother's chief of 
staff while Military Governor of Kentucky. He first smelled 
powder at Lebanon, Tennessee, where nearly the whole of 

* Tlic writiT of tliis sl\i-f''li 

46 > • 

General Jolin Morgan's force was captured, and was himself 
captured at Murfreesboro. On being exchanged, he served 
to the end of his enlistment, and with distinction on the staff 
of General Geo. H. Thomas. 

On the mother's side, our present branch inherits a goodly 
share of fighting blood. Mrs. Isabella Graham's husband 
was surgeon of the Eoyal Americans, the 60th Eegiment of 
the British line. Two of his sons served in the Napoleonic 
wars. Both survived the campaign and died among their 
kindred, one as a Major and the other as Brigadier General, 
Knight Companion of the Bath, and Governor of Sterling 
Castle. Two of his sons served in the Crimea with distinc- 
tion, and one fell at the fiercely fought battle of Inkepman. 

The Bethunes, too, are good fighting stock. Their great an- 
cestor, Maximillian de Bethune, Duke of Sully, was a " cheva- 
lier sans peur et sansreproche," and three of his descendants 
of the Scotch family of Beatoun fell at Culloden, fis;htinQ; with 
Targe and Claymore, in defence of him whom they regarded as 
their lawful monarch, the lineal descendant of the Stuarts. 

But of the whole race now living, none have inherited the 
family fighting-propensity to the same extent as the Kev. 
Dr. George Duffield, of Detroit, whose golden wedding we 
now celebrate. The mantle of his grandfather and name- 
sake, the Bev. Dr. and Col. George Duffield, of revolutionary 
history, has fallen upon him. 

Other Duffields, in former wars, fought only for friends 
and country, "pro amicis et reipulicse," but his battles have 
been for religion and the right, pro Deo. When compara- 
tively a young man, ho fought out his presbytery on the 
question of regeneration. Single-handed and alone, he 
"stood in the imminent deadly breach," and routed them, 
"horse, foot, and dragoons." 

The question of St. Peter's delegated authority, brought 
him in conflict with the Church of Eome. Other denomina- 
tions felt the weight of his battle-axe, and at last the spirit 
of prophecy having fallen upon him, he encountered Stuart, 
and routed him more effectually and completely than his 
namesake was routed at Culloden. Airily, like David, he 


has ])een " a man of war from his youth," and unlike some of his 
successors in the family, he has never yet been killed, wounded, 
or taken prisoner. He has taken Samuel as his type, and 
his opponents have shared the fate of Agag, whom the 
prophet "hewed in pieces before the Lord." 

God grant that he may long be spared,, to be successful in 
many future battles for religion and the right, pro Deo, while 
the sabres of his sons defend his friends and country, amicis 
et reipublicse. 

This paper was received with great applause, particularly 
the closing part, which brought down the house and gave 
fother the heartiest laugh of the day. On hearing it we re- 
gretted more than ever that "Will" could not have been 
with us. No one would have enjoyed it more. 

The following fraternal tribute to John B. E^omeyn Dufiield 
was then read by Dr. Samuel P. Duffield. 


Tlie early years of boyhood are always clothed with a pe- 
culiar charm, especially when there is a companion nearly of 
your own age, who enjoys and sympathizes with you in the 
pleasures and trials of that age. 

The subject of this sketch was well known as a brother to 
all of us ; was dearly beloved as a son by those who now 
stand crowned with the glory of their riper years. 

Three years my junior, he was mentally four years my 
senior; his mind possessed that peculiar potency which is de- 
rived from a clear conception, with tremendous power of con- 
centration. No matter where he was, on the porch or on 
the roof of the barn, he could elucidate a problem, or trans- 
late a Greek fable, with an ease and precision, I have never 
in later years met with in any person of his age. His views 
were clear to the point, and anything once mastered was 


called from the mind with perfect ease, and not thought of 
again, until the time came for its recital. 

While there was freedom, and broad scope to his mind, his 
physique partook of the same cliaracter. Short and broad- 
chested, he was well endowed with muscular power, and has 
many a time successfully coped with boys greatly older than 
himself in the games and contests then in vogue. There was 
nothing small about him. As his mental capacity was large, 
and his physique well developed ; so his heart was generous 
to a fault, always defending the oppressed, and never tor- 
menting or injuring the unfortunate. 

Many and many a time has he sympathized with me after 
having stood behind that old red chair, which, could it speak, 
would tell many a tale of classical sorrow when I was com- 
pelled to seek my room and go over the monotonous Greek verb. 
Fond of physical sport and excitement, he grew strong every 
day, until an epidemic, which came suddenly upon this city, 
took him as its prey, and laid him upon a bed of sickness, 
which, though not known at that time to be so, was ulti- 
mately the cause of his decease. Cut down just at the un- 
folding of manhood, suffering extremely from physical agony, 
still in his last hours that wonderful power of concentration 
of thought was manifest, and young though he was, he could 
bid pain defiance, and turn the mind to higher realms of ex- 
istence. God weaned him by his sickness from this earth, 
and though gone to a brighter world, our hearts follow him 
in memory as in our circle of to-day, we imagine what he 
might have been, had he lived to gather here with us. 

Death gazed at this flower witli tearful eyes, 

lie kissed its drooping leaves, 
It was for the Lord of Paradise, 

He hound it in his sheaves. 

Our mother gave in tears and pain 

The flowers she most did love. 
She knows she shall find them all again 

In the fields of light ahove. 


Dr. Morse Stewart was then called on for a speech, and 
responded m the form of a letter which was handed to father, 
and which he said was designed to be entirely private. 

A poem entitled 1817-1867, was then read by the oldest 
Grandson, the Kev. Samuel "VV. Duffield, of Philadelphia, Pa. 


That ancient monarch, Midas of the ears, 
When bathing in Pactolus it appears, 
Washed himself free from all that yellow look, 
(Whereof see Ovid's story in his book). 
That kind of golden leprosy, no doubt, 
Which any man does well to be, without. 

Concerning causes of this strange disease, 
Read all the old philosophers you please — 
The fact remains, that gifts of golden touch 
Are not recorded as availing much, 
And that this most unlucky king of men, 
Was glad to give his present back again. 
A very foolish person — had he grown 
Wliere long Cape Cod stands up before the throne ; 
Where every Yankee quickly understands, 
How cranberries can flourish on the sands ; 
Where all one wants as stock-in-trade for life. 
Are three pine shingles and a Barlow knife ; 
Where the dull babies who will have no wits 
Are stung by lank musquitoes into fits ; 
And where the boobies who survive the rod, 
Are sure to perish, fishing after cod ; 
Where none exist but those who wliittle down 
The world's brag cities, with their Boston town : — • 
If Midas, then, had been a Yankee born, 
His prospects would have been far forlorn — 
(_)ood for a spoon, or else to round the Horn 

'J'liis (inc lixcoptiiiii (piilv io till' rule 
Your Yankee is too sharp to be a fool; 
And so, while trading all abroad in cash. 
At home he cuts a more extended, 
And helps himself to hurry off his work, 
By putting more upon each Treasury clerk, 
And stamping, upon paper of the best, 
The green of his rich jirairies in the West. 

I think, however, that some time ago 

I spoke of Midas — I am rather blow 


In reaching back to use him as I wisli 

And melt some dollars from his golden dish. 

(The story, too, may seem to be but stuff, 

Yet do I think it dolorous enough.) 

Let it be then sufficient to assert 

That Midas would have never come to hurt. 

If, as a Yankee in these latter days, 

lie had employed his gift in other ways ; 

For see how quickly such a man could make 

The world his debtor for his money's sake. 

He could have covered earth with deeds of gold 

And made that common which for much is sold. 

Yet he was wise enough in time to see, 

How foolish such an enterprise would be. 

We value most the things which are most rare. 

Since common matters never need much care — 

We set our China by, and use Queensware. 

Into each life the golden days are shed. 
As sunset clouds light up the crags ahead — 
And each true life, filled in^with layers of light. 
Grows beautiful by years and ever bright. 
The gold-mine prospects of the days of youth. 
Are realized when dug within the truth ; 
And nuggets, purer than Australian ore, 
Are found as time goes onward more and more. 
Years pass, days fade — the light of other eyes 
May close below, but shines in Paradise : 
Yi'ars pass, days fade — the step may then be slow, 
But the long pathway stretches far below : 
Years pass, days fade — a plain and short ascent 
Unto those white, far palace-gates is bent : 
Years pass, days fade — one knows not at what lime 
An angel, dropping swiftly from that clime. 
May stand beside the pilgrim as he prays, 
May bear him upward by celestial ways. 
And lead him, from his last and longest pause. 
Into the presence of the great First Cause. 
Ah, better are such golden days of life. 
Beyond the early buffets of its strife, 
To liim who keeps his wisdom — and his wife. 
And blessed be those peaceful quiet days. 
To her whose smile is as a golden haze 
O'er all on whom she sheds such cheerful rays. 
And thus we learn from days which yield so much. 
The secret of the only Golden Touch. 

Oh stormy moments that have long gone by ' 
Oh rou2h rude murmurs of an angry sky ' 


Till! storm has brdkon and Uio yuiule lihiw 
Of heavenly distance has been seen anew. 
A glory — not of sunset — has been tlirown 
Calmly resplendent over all its own. 
The clouds have fled away and left no trace 
Of aught but sunshine on the ocean's face; 
And now the uncounted laughter of the sea, 
Whose little waves are tossing merrily, 
Greets, with approval of the enterprise, 
A certain venture saved from angry skies. 

The craft is old — and fifty years have passed 
Since any sail was spread upon the mast; 
The craft is old, and yet good judges say 
The timbers are all sound and right to-day. 
They built their vessels then to stand the shock 
Of anything less hard than granite rock. 
And they expected, as a thing of course, 
That time would bring additions to the force ; 
And that this keel would need to carry through 
Some passengers and freight, as well as crew. 
The thing was well arranged — the ship has shown 
That she can take whatever is her own. 
The captain and his mate have managed so. 
That no one can instruct them how to stow. 
There have been changes, but their skill was such 
That these will not be noticed very much. 
And this indeed is true of each new thing 
Which one or other thought it fit to bring, 
For which they traded at some distant port, 
Or which — as animals of ever}' sort 
Including sundry dogs and birds of mark- 
Boarded them like some wandering Noah's ark. 
All these new things which added to the freight 
Were put in storage safely by the mate. 
And here I think it better just to show 
A few such items which I chance to know. 

Imprimis : One great clock was brought on board, 
Stately and solemn as an English Lord. 
I think it entered early in the cruise ; 
At all events it proved itself of use. 
By that big clock the sun itself is set. 
He gets to noonmark by it even yet, 
And makes an effort to be right, although 
Often discovered to be fast or slow — 
" Some fifteen minutes," say the ones who know. 
The moon gave it her photograph. (The skill 
Which took the likeness you can study still). 
Old Time himself became quite gracious too. 
And looks it up each night as good as new, 


For coming day has never been too proiul 

To tell how he preceded her and bowed. 

The altitude of this most vast concern 

"Was matter of some moment in Us turn ; 

But that was all provided for with care, 

And now it stands as though 'twas always there. 

Item ; One weather-glass, thermometers 
As many as a chestnut tree has burrs, 
]lain-<jau(jcs (dry as all such jokers arc), 
Jiaromcicrs (I'orevcr uiulor bar), 
And other strange inventions whieli have got 
Tangled together in a motley lot. 
This was a portion of the lading, found 
Easy to bang, or tie, or nail around — 
Thus one can comprehend why they abound. 

Item : Sorne score oj pictures. These the mate 
Put round the bunks. Item: Much dinner plate, 
Blue willow pattern. These were stowed away 
In some quaint locker, ivhere, I cannot say. 
Item : An instrument of music, made 
Not half so much for service as parade, 
And yet on which the mate had often played. 
This was ensconsed near where the clock was set, 
And stared it out of countenance — you bet 1 
I am informed by those who ought to know, 
That it can stand a most uncommon blow — 
A fact, however, which I rather doubt, 

As it has evidently j?a<-ted out. 

Its character is also somewhat bad — 
'Twas far too sharp with all the ke)/s it had ; 

It used poor chords to tie up doubtful notes; 

And as to friends, I hear it wrung their throats. 

Its face its fortune — thus it comes to pass 

That beauty gone, it now depends on brass. 

Item ; One man, who came aboard the craft 

Yet nearly was convicted by the draft. 

This was a person by the name of "John,"* 

Whose proper station there is doubt upon. 

Whether he milks the ship's cow forward most ; 

Or slushes down the masts ; or makes the toast ; 

Or shifts the ballast — all those dusty books' — 

Or runs new grape vines over fresher hooks. 

That men may see how gay the vessel looks ; 

Which is his rightful post one cannot tell. 

The truth is this ; he does them all so well 

That how the ship would sail if he were gone 

Is a grave subject to be pondered on. 

- John Mosr — Ihe Gardener and masculine Major Domo of all out-doors. 


Item ; This ballast .' — Stirc-ly one woiilil jnilgo 
AVitli such a load the vessel could not budge. 
But yet she does sail on, and I have heard 
That books still come and therefore have inferred 
That by some process known but to himself 
The captain can find space on every shelf. — 
lie next will store them nearer to the sky 
Up where his "pantalettes"''^ in order lie. 

Item : A thing which neither knits or sews, 
Although it juakes good fine, and other hose. 
Let it run on and feed it well with yarn, 
And in a fortnight it would slock a barn ! 
Why this machine was ever brought aboard, 
Costs more to answer than my wits afford. 
Only, one reason seems to be so clear 
That I may venture to express it here : 
And it is this— the crew is very large 
And certain things become a gerious charge ; 
For instance, hose ; especially when legs 
Are longer than the most of mortal pegs. 
And when the size thereof must be encased 
Snugly, and with a careful fear of waste. , 
It then holds true beyond an earthly doubt 
That this is what the mate has been about. 
She has been stocking those, whom fate had locked 
Out in the cold, and only slightly soclced. 
Well, this machine — it had to go on deck ; 
The cabin quarters nearly broke its neck. 
The best of sailors, nothing does it harm ; 
It " spins a yarn" far longer than my arm. 
Item : Another fixture, tried and true 
And burnished up and kept to look like new ; 
A good home pet, a " Singer" like its name, 
Whose song though docile never yet was tame. 
It hems quite often — not to clear its throat 
As some may think. — It collars any coat 
As brave as a policeman, and displays 
A thousand pleasant traits in pleasant ways. 
It 7-uns so much, that stitches in the side 
Occur with frequency, and yet its pride 
Would never let it stop until it died. 
This too went up on deck and kept along 
Day after day, with labor and with song. 
Item : A creature, — yes I may say two. 
For both were part of this Noachic crew ! 
The first was used to make the big ropes track ; 
Quite slow, and for that reason christened " 3Iac."-f 

*• Pamphlets are so termed by the aforesaid "John." 
f A French pony — many years in the family. 


Tliis uiKi survives — behold liini ye wIm. will 
For by new titles he is active still. 
Behold this " Hippopotamus" whose hide, 
No whip can influence, however tried. 
"Like unto oxen" still he "eateth straw," 
And such provision as you never saw — 
And sleeps ou saw-dust, contrary to law. 

Tiiat other one— Old " Tete"— I name with pride; 
True to his colors till the day he died ; 
A horse, good sirs, that take him where you would, 
Did all you asked and more than all he could. 
A brave, bright fellow, gallant to the last ! 
So let him rest in peace, his work is past ' — 
And if there be, beyond these lower spheres, 
A country on whose plains he re-appears, 
There may he roam', secure from any toil. 
And crop rich herbage from a fruitful soil ! 

One Item more : In course of years there grew 
Around the captain and his mate a crew, 
Hard to be counted since they were not few. 
A circumstance from which it came about 
That most of those whom they could do without 
Slipped off and went to sea, and now they meet 
Here in the harbor, a good-looking fleet 

Safe here in harbor after fifty years, 
How fair and fresh this sturdy craft appears; 
All freight well stored and all the crew well trained. 
Before each took the vessel that was gained. 
All hands have answered to the boatswain's call, 
Thank God! the dear old ship still holds us all ! 
Together on the deck we meet at last 
Gathered with gifts of price from out the past. 
The grand old ship which holds such pleasant store. 
Must still be freighted with some tokens more. 
And they are here ! 

Accept them as of use 
For the remainder of this noble, 
Although poor gifts ! 

Oh years which yet shall be 
Come calmly on — pass over peacefully ! 
And when the long, long voyage ends at last ; 
When the brave anchor Hope is inward cast ; 
When they are hailed well out upon the stream. 
And take His boat who comes but to redeem ; 
Then may the Captain as they near the shore, 
Clasp the true hand he trusted in of yore. 
And, stepping forward till they meet the Lord, 
Say, with rejoicing, " Wo have come on board '" 


D. Betliune Duffield, Esq., of Detroit, was then summarily 
called on for a speech, and responded greatly to the satis- 
faction of the entire family audience. 

We cannot assume here to reproduce his remarks, which 
had a direct reference to the current exercises of the day, 
especially of the afternoon. He however remarked, that it 
was a matter of great satisfaction to him, and doubtless it 
was to all of us, to find in the record of our humble ancestry 
on both sides, so many noble characters, both male and fe- 
male ; so much of lofty virtue and high achievement. He 
had never before grouped these individual histories together 
in the line of family descent; hardly even so much as looked 
up into the family tree. But to-day we have had them pre- 
sented to us gracefully and we should receive them gratefully. 
Examples of the sternest patriotism, of the highest Christian 
heroism, not only in the pulpit, but in the field; of the sweet 
charities that adorned the lives of many, whose hands we seem 
only yesterday to have loosed, that they might enter into rest, 
and of eminence in all the professions of life. He was surprised 
and inspired by this first family rehearsal of our departed an- 
cestry, and of the rich fruitage of this family tree. But in 
view of the extreme richness and beauty of these high exam- 
ples in our history, it becomes us, every one of us, to be 
upon our guard, lest there spring up in our hearts the nox- 
ious plant of unhallowed " family pride," with its poison blos- 
soms of ancestral boasting. To him there was nothing so 
offensive, nothing that so quickly marred a character other- 
wise beautiful, as a vain parade of a departed lineage. 

In those who claim to be Americans, and who profess a 
belief and approval of American Democracy, this trait of 
character is especially offensive ; indeed, for such off'enses 
there is no apology, no excuse. Let us see to it then, that 
we are not thus led away by temptation, as wc behold this 
noble company of men and women whose blood we carry, 
passing in review before us, and so shame ourselves and one 
another, by sin of this sort. Let us remember that the vir- 
tues of these glorious men and women, were personally, and 


only their own, and not ours. "We have them not in our blood, 
they live not there, but only in the story we find in the great 
ftimily Bible. Let none of us boast of any virtues, or any 
achievements, or any gifts, save such as we personally possess, 
and are fairly entitled to. And when we win such virtues as 
we have this afternoon heard of — among our honored ancestry, 
it will be found that family pride and boasting, w^ill be the 
lightest and least of all our sins. 

But let us rather cherish the memories of those dear saints, 
as fountains of holy inspiration ; looking upon them as pure 
exemplars after whom we may fashion our own lives, so that 
we may be known by them hereafter, when we shall inquir- 
ingly repeat their names in " the land beyond the river." 
And let those of us who are still out and wrestling among 
the waves of busy life, adopt the principle of our wise and 
beloved father, in this respect, and be true Americans, true 
Democrats, in the highest and purest sense of the word ; and 
above all, true Christians, whose spirit is humility, and 
whose creed fellow-service to our brethren in the flesh, 
whether they be of high or low estate. Thus living and 
acting, it may be, that in the generations yet to come, our 
children, and children's children, may take delight in setting 
our names also, on this golden record of our departed ancestry ; 
and, perchance, associating our virtues and our triumphs, 
with the triumphs and the virtues of those beloved parents, 
whom we all this day delight so much to honor and to 

Bethune concluded his remarks, by suggesting that, inas- 
much as some of the papers just read, possessed very much 
that was historically valuable, they be all committed to the 
eldest son, our elder brother, with the request that he would 
cause them, and so much of the day's j^roceedings as he might 
think worth while, to be compiled and published for family 
preservation, in pamphlet form, as an appropriate mode of 
prolonging the pleasant memories of this golden day. This 
suggestion was unanimously adopted. 

Bv the time "Tliune" got through, it was evident wo were 


gokig to Lave a volunteer speech from mother. She looked 
it in her eyes. It was evidently swelling in her heart. I 
have not the least doubt that it was all present in her 
thoughts. Firm, full, and determined, she began to speak : 

" The great love and honor I have received from my be- 
loved children is almost too much for me," — but with the 
very first sentence the sluices of memory lifted, and the rush 
of fifty years was more than she was able to stand, and the 
dear bride's speech was not delivered. 

The Marshal, however, gallantly came to her rescue. He 
said that, as the youngest of the family, he could not help 
feeling that, fair as was the past fame of the Dufiields, their 
present prospects were equally encouraging. We had a min- 
ister to keep us holy, an engineer to keep us straight, a 
chemist to keep us pure, a doctor to keep us healthy, and 
two lawyers to keep us honest. 

We had had a good day, a great day, and if anybody else 
could have a happier golden wedding than this had been, he 
would like to be on hand. But his duty, as Marshal, obliged 
him to say that, inasmuch as the north wing was being pre- 
pared for the great feast in the evening, the library would 
soon be wanted for the relatives and connections, and the 
literary entertainment must now give way to tea and coff'ee. 
And so the family circle dissolved, first receiving the benedic- 
tion from father, and " now may the God of peace, that brought 
again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, that great Shep- 
herd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting cove- 
nant, make you perfect in every good work to do His will, work- 
ing in you that which is well pleasing in his sight, through 
Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. x\men." 

But the circle was at once enlarged, and reorganized with 
connections and a few intimate friends who were received 
socially to a supper. That supper will not soon be forgotten. 
It was just what was wanted to make a right transition to the 
evening. Supper finished, the family took their places in the 
parlors for the reception of guests generally ; and by the 
time ten o'clock had come, it had numbered more than a 

^ 58 

tliousancl. Everybody felt at home. Everybody felt that the 
old Pastor's house was home, and his friends, and the friends 
of the family from every circle and walk of life, thronged 
through the house, to offer the bridal pair their congratula- 
tions and their best wishes. 

Our old citizens came to renew, and some perchance, to 
weep over the fading scenes of by-gone days. Young men and 
women, who had been both baptized and married by the 
venerable Pastor, pressed in to do him reverence. 

The Honorable Common Council, as a body, presented 
themselves and their good wishes. Ministers, judges, lawyers, 
merchants, mechanics, laborers, clerks, students, boys and 
teachers from public schools, all were there ; and a happier 
company of j^eople than was then assembled, crowding the 
halls, wandering about the grounds under trees, illuminated 
by Chinese lanterns, and brightened by blazing lamps, we 
have rarely if ever seen or known. 

And yet, numerous as. they all were, they were every one 
cordially received, and hospitably entertained by the ladies 
of the Church, under whose bounty the tables in the dining- 
room groaned with festal fruits and solid fare. As the bride 
and groom sat in their two great arm-chairs, under the dear 
old flag, which, next to her dear old President, Mr. Lincoln, 
mother loves so devotedly, with her children gathered 
round her, we could not help thinking that she was just 
where she wished to be. And as we looked at the gilded eagle, 
under which the pair stood fifty years ago, when they cele- 
brated their first wedding, and saw in his beak the wreath 
of Autumn leaves, with which he crowned their Golden 
Wedding, we were reminded of the words : " They that wait 
on the Lord, shall renew their strength ; they shall mount 
up as eagles; they shall- run and not be weary; they shall 
walk and not faint." 


Preamble and Resolution adopted by the Common Council of 
the City of Detroit, on the tenth day of September, A. D. 
1867. ^ 

Whereas, It has pleased Almighty God long to spare the 
life and continue the usefulness of one of our honored citizens, 
whose name has shed lustre upon our beloved City and State, 
and who is about to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of his 
wedding with the companion of his youth, and as it is ever 
appropriate to recognize private virtue, and public useful- 
ness ; therefore, 

Eesolved, That, recognizing our gratitude and appreci- 
ating the long and useful services of Eev. George Duffield, 
D.D., that this Council will meet to-morrow evening, at 8 
o'clock, in this Hall, and proceed to the residence of Rev. 
Dr. Duffield, to pay their respects to him and his estimable 
lady, on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of their 

A true copy. 

Paul Gies, 

President of the Common Council. 

Attest : 

Henry Starkey, 

City Clerk.