A word remains to be said about General Francis Marion himself. This hero of history, song, and romance was childless; our mother could claim as near relationship to him as could any of her generation. She was extremely proud of this kinship, and no one who knew her could doubt that from the Marions she inherited many vital qualities. One winter, toward the end of her life, there was a meeting at the Old South Church at which--as at the gathering described at the beginning of this chapter--there was talk of ancestry and kindred topics. The weather was stormy, our mother well on in the eighties, but she was there. Being called on to speak, she made a brief address in the course of which she alluded to her Southern descent, and to General Francis Marion, her great-great-uncle. As she spoke her eyes lightened with mirth, in the way we all remember: "General Marion," she said, "was known in his generation as the 'Swamp Fox'; and when I succeed in eluding the care of my guardians, children and grandchildren, and coming to a meeting like this, I think I may be said to have inherited some of his characteristics!" CHAPTER II LITTLE JULIA WARD 1819-1835; _aet._ 1-16 FROM MY NURSERY: FORTY-SIX YEARS AGO When I was a little child, Said my passionate nurse, and wild: "Wash you, children, clean and white; God may call you any night." Close my tender brother clung, While I said with doubtful tongue: "No, we cannot die so soon; For you told, the other noon, "Of those months in order fine That should make the earth divine. I've not seen, scarce five years old, Months like those of which you told." Softly, then, the woman's hand Loosed my frock from silken band, Tender smoothed the fiery head, Often shamed for ringlets red. Somewhat gently did she say, "Child, those months are every day." Still, methinks, I wait in fear, For that wonder-glorious year-- For a spring without a storm, Summer honey-dewed and warm, Autumn of robuster strength, Winter piled in crystal length. I will wash me clean and white; God may call me any night. I must tell Him when I go His great year is yet to know-- Year when working of the race Shall match Creation's dial face; Each hour be born of music's chime, And Truth eternal told in Time. J. W. H. Lieutenant-Colonel Ward had ten children, of whom seven lived to grow up. The fifth child and son was Samuel, our mother's father, born in Warwick, Rhode Island, May 1, 1786. When he was four years old, the family moved to New York, where the Colonel and his brother established themselves as merchants under the firm name of Samuel Ward & Brother.