tion, and much injured. A few years after the peace,
it was blown down by a violent tempest, and finally no vestige of it was
left, but there remained only a summer-house and the family tomb.

At Sir William's death, his mansion was hung with black, while the body
lay in state for a week. All the Sparhawk portraits were covered with
black crape, and the family pew was draped with black. Two oxen were
roasted, and liquid hospitality dispensed in proportion.

* * * * *

Old lady's dress seventy or eighty years ago. Brown brocade gown, with a
nice lawn handkerchief and apron,--short sleeves, with a little ruffle,
just below the elbow,--black mittens,--a lawn cap, with rich lace
border,--a black velvet hood on the back of the head, tied with black
ribbon under the chin. She sat in an old-fashioned easy-chair, in a
small, low parlor,--the wainscot painted entirely black, and the walls
hung with a dark velvet paper.

A table, stationary ever since the house was built, extending the whole
length of a room. One end was raised two steps higher than the rest. The
Lady Ursula, an early Colonial heroine, was wont to dine at the upper
end, while her servants sat below. This was in the kitchen. An old
garden and summer-house, and roses, currant-bushes, and tulips, which
Lady Ursula had brought from Grondale Abbey in Old England. Although a
hundred and fifty years before, and though their roots were propagated
all over the country, they were still flourishing in the original
garden. This Lady Ursula was the daughter of Lord Thomas Cutts of
Grondale Abbey in England. She had been in love with an officer named
Fowler, who was supposed to have been slain in battle. After the death
of her father and mother, Lady Ursula came to Kittery, bringing twenty
men-servants and several women. After a time, a letter arrived from her
lover, who was not killed, but merely a prisoner to the French. He
announced his purpose to come to America, where he would arrive in
October. A few days after the letter came, she went out in a low
carriage to visit her work-people, and was blessing the food for their
luncheon, when she fell dead, struck by an Indian tomahawk, as did all
the rest save one. They were buried, where the massacre took place, and
a stone was erected, which (possibly) still remains. The lady's family
had a grant from Sir Ferdinando Gorges of the territory thereabout, and
her brother had likewise come over and