Authors and Writers Associated with Morristown. Julia Keese Colles
Chieftain too, a century old,
Born a young Prince beneath his native sky,
Who with his banjo sang rare tales of gold—
I saw him strive and struggle, gasp and die.
A child was brought one evening, lived, and died,
Almost before its eyes beheld the day;
The infant and the old men, side by side,
Were in the quiet churchyard laid away.
I learned of Life and Death, but know no more
Of their mysterious secrets now than then;
No sesame can open wide the door,
That veils those mysteries from the light of men.
Upon the summit of the rock-bound hill
That looks down on the lowland plains afar,
Are seen the outlines of the earthworks still
Remaining there, rude vestiges of war.
That was a day to be remembered long,
When crowds were gathered on the village green,
To welcome with warm hearts and floral song,
Him who a friend in war's dark hour had been.
And not while nature's suns shall pour their light,
Will Freedom's sons that honored name forget,
Nor cease to, until worlds shall pass from sight,
Keep green the memory of Lafayette.
Hark, on the air tolls out the passing bell,
Fourscore and ten and yet again fourscore;
Tread lightly now, it is the parting knell
For two great spirits gone out evermore.
Together they had lived, together died
As Freedom's Bell rang in her natal day,
And what than this could be more mete beside
That twinned in death, their souls should pass away?
There comes a memory of the bugle horn,
Winding a blast, as with their daily load,
The prancing coach-steeds dashed out in the morn
To run the toll-gates of the turnpike road.
Behold the change? now brakes are whistled down,
And screaming engines wake the Mountain air;
There is no longer, as of old, a Town
Committee, but a Council and a Mayor.
Go where the lake sleeps in the summer night,
Kissed by the winds that on its bosom play,
When the round moon sends down her fullest light,
And evening glories in soft splendor lay.
And you can almost fancy then that over,
The moonlit mirror of the tranquil tide,
You see the water spirits rise and hover,
And on the sheen in laughing lightness glide.
And I have seen those waters as they flow,
Down on their course past bridge and wheel and mill,
Where we as boys would "in-a-swimming go;"
Do the boys swim in "Sunnygony" still?
Oh, fellow scholar who along with me
Learned the first rudiments of ball and book
Within the grounds of the Academy,
In vain for that old landmark now you look.
Gone with the Master, yet a memory lingers,
And will forever consecrate the spot,
Nor can the power of Time's effacing fingers,
While life shall last, the recollection blot.
Teacher and pupils, few remain, and they
Far on in years, lean on a slender staff;
The school-house, all you see of that to-day
Is shown you there upon its photograph.
Change is on all things, and I see it here;
Land that then grew the turnip and "potater,"
Now blooms in flowers and costs exceeding dear,
Bringing some thousand dollars by the acre!
And villas crown the rising hill-tops round,
And stately mansions stand adorned with art,
And liveried coaches roll with rumbling sound
Where once jogged on the wagon-wheel and cart.
Hail to the future, ages come and go,
And men are borne upon the sweeping tide;
Wave follows wave in ever ceaseless flow,
The present stays not by the dweller's side.
I stand to-day far down the farthest slope,
And up the lengthened pathway turn and look,
Where on the summit once stood Youth and Hope,
Now soon to turn the last leaf of the Book.
And I am glad that while there come to me
These fragrant memories of life's early scene,
That still in robes of purest white I see
The Church Spire rising on the village green.
HISTORIC MORRISTOWN.
Throughout our country, there is no spot more identified with the story of the Revolution, and the personality of Washington, than Morristown. Nestled among its five ranges of hills, its impregnable position no doubt first attracted the attention of the commander-in-chief and that of his trusted quartermaster, General Nathaniel Greene. Besides, the enthusiastic patriotism of the men and women of this part of New Jersey was noted far and wide, and the powder-mill of Col. Jacob Ford, Jr., on the Whippany river, where "good merchantable powder," was in course of manufacture—some of which had probably already been tested at Trenton, Princeton and elsewhere—was also among the attractions.
It was on December 20th, 1776, that Washington wrote to the President of Congress: "I have directed the three regiments from Ticonderoga, to halt at Morristown, in Jersey (where I understand about eight hundred Militia have collected) in order to inspirit the inhabitants and as far as possible to cover that part of the country."
(Quoted by Rev. Dr. Tuttle in his paper on "Washington in Morris County," in the Historical Magazine for June 1871.)
These were regiments from New England. The British, who were always trying to gain "the pass of the mountains," had made an attempt on the 14th of December, but had been repulsed by Col. Jacob Ford, Jr., with his militia, at Springfield.
At this time the village numbered about 250 inhabitants with a populous community of thriving farmers surrounding it. To the north of the town were the estates of the Hathaway and Johnes families; to the east, those of the Fords, who had just erected the building now known as the Headquarters; to the south, those of General John Doughty and to the west, those of Silas Condict and his brothers.
Morris county was settled "about 1710," by families of New England ancestry, who were attracted by the iron ore in the mountains round about and who came from Newark and Elizabethtown. The Indian name for the country round, seems to have been "Rockciticus"