d was no
doubt a native of Scotland.

[A] 1783

CHAPTER V.

I know there are those who will kindly regard these reminiscences of
things, trifling, it may be, in themselves, but affording a glimpse of
manners perhaps already forgotten by most or all of those who were
formerly more or less conversant with them, and which may prove of some
interest in the future. We had spent our Thanksgiving at home, in the
year 18--, but went all together to the farm of our uncle Richard, who
was of the Episcopal Church, for the celebration of Christmas; for many
of his persuasion, at that time, regarded "Thanksgiving" pretty much as
the Highlander, in Scott's novel, did "ta little government Sunday, tat
tey call ta Fast." He was a well-to-do farmer, at a place within easy
reach of the town in which we lived, and where very few were at all
rich, even according to the former moderate standard of wealth, and most
people were poor, or at least depended on their daily labor for their
daily bread. Those were very hard times following upon the war; and that
had followed fast upon the Great Fire, which reduced to ruin almost the
entire central business part of the town. Our family had suffered private
losses, too, by a swindling failure on an extensive scale,--a rare
incident in those days;[7] and again by the embargo and the war, most
of my mother's limited means having been invested in one vessel after
another, employed in the coasting trade, and this source of income at
length stopped altogether. Still, people bore up bravely against these
misfortunes, and showed quite as much spirit and hardihood as in these
latter times, and got along decently, after a fashion. To be sure, the
proclamation of Peace, a few years before, had revived all hearts; though
I heard of a washerwoman engaged in her avocation, while the bells were
ringing, who, on learning the cause of jubilation, peevishly
exclaimed,--"Peace! peace! what's peace, when there's no water?"[8] Our
Thanksgiving had been a cheerful one, though colored, as such
anniversaries are likely to be, with recollections of the absent, or the
dead; for the memory of my father was always present to my mother, then
and during a long widowhood of almost half a century, and my older
brothers were at sea. My mother was an excellent housekeeper, and we had
plenty of the usual belongings of the festival, so eagerly looked forward
to by the young, and something to bestow upon others not