Through the Gates of Old Romance — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Through the Gates of Old Romance
John Stuart Mill · en
NOW, LIKE SOME SLEEPY ANTIQUE DAME BELATED AFTER
A REVELRY, IT WAITS DESPAIRINGLY BY THE TURN OF
THE ROAD 139
NEWPORT IN 1831 161
MRS. WANTON, A BELLE OF NEWPORT 167
CHARLOTTE TEMPLE IN HER GARDEN 191
From an old print
THE TOWNSEND GARDEN 217
MAJOR JOHN ANDRÉ 221
A LADY OF OLD AMBOY 259
THE WALK TO MRS. BELL'S MANSION 273
AN UNRECORDED PHILADELPHIA
ROMANCE THE FRANKLIN
FAMILY HELPED INTO FLOWER
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
AN UNRECORDED PHILADELPHIA ROMANCE THE FRANKLIN FAMILY HELPED INTO
FLOWER
It was at a musical party given by the great Franklin a few months
after he returned from London to Philadelphia, in 1762, that Betsey
Shewell first met Benjamin West and entered with him through the
ever-swaying gates of Romance. At the time she was known as a belle
of the Quaker City, and he is best described by that keen observer of
mankind, Doctor Jonathan Morris, as "a young painter of fine parts
enjoying his native haunts after the glamour of European capitals."
The modest Franklin house in the heart of the city was at that time a
Mecca for the choice spirits of the colonists. Statesmen, scholars,
and men of wealth trod the pebbly street to the philosopher's through
all hours of the day until long after candle-lighting time. Benjamin
Franklin meant many things to many people. It is small wonder that
poor Mrs. Franklin often lamented that her "Pappy," as she called
her husband, was unhappily affected with a too tender and benevolent
disposition, and that all the world claimed the privilege of troubling
him with their calamities and distress. But still the lady loved her
kind, especially those with good ears, tradition says, and the night
that "Pappy" gave this frolic for his buxom daughter Sarah she smiled
at the company with broad good-humor. And, knowing this (for otherwise
there would have been no party at Franklin's), we can raise the
curtain on the scene with impunity, and listen to the ghostly wails of
violins, the tinkles of tired spinets, and the long-lost voices of the
company.