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that old hut…dweller's； we must concede him his picturesqueness。 He was
dirty； and he was not respectable； but he is picturesquenow that he is
dead。
If the reader has five or ten minutes to waste； I invite him to glance at
a few old profiles of persons who； however substantial they once were； are
now leading a life of mere outlines。 I would like to give them a less faded
expression； but the past is very chary of yielding up anything more than its
shadows。
The first who presents himself is the ruminative hermit already
mentioneda species of uninspired Thoreau。 His name was Benjamin Lear。
So far as his craziness went； he might have been a lineal descendant of
that ancient king of Britain who figures on Shakespeare's page。 Family
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dissensions made a recluse of King Lear； but in the case of Benjamin there
were no mitigating circumstances。 He had no family to trouble him； and
his realm remained undivided。 He owned an excellent farm on the south
side of Sagamore Creek； a little to the west of the bridge； and might have
lived at ease； if personal comfort had not been distasteful to him。 Personal
comfort entered into no part of Lear's。 To be alone filled the little pint…
measure of his desire。 He ensconced himself in a wretched shanty； and
barred the door； figuratively； against all the world。 Wealthwhat would
have been wealth to himlay within his reach； but he thrust it aside； he
disdained luxury as he disdained idleness； and made no compromise with
convention。 When a man cuts himself absolutely adrift from custom； what
an astonishingly light spar floats him！ How few his wants are； after all！
Lear was of a cheerful disposition； and seems to have been wholly
inoffensiveat a distance。 He fabricated his own clothes； and subsisted
chiefly on milk and potatoes； the product of his realm。 He needed nothing
but an island to be a Robinson Crusoe。 At rare intervals he flitted like a
frost…bitten apparition through the main street of Portsmouth； which he
always designated as 〃the Bank；〃 a name that had become obsolete fifty or
a hundred years before。 Thus； for nearly a quarter of a century； Benjamin
Lear stood aloof from human intercourse。 In his old age some of the
neighbors offered him shelter during the tempestuous winter months； but
he would have none of ithe defied wind and weather。 There he lay in his
dilapidated hovel in his last illness； refusing to allow any one to remain
with him overnightand the mercury four degrees below zero。 Lear was
born in 1720； and vegetated eighty…two years。
I take it that Timothy Winn； of whom we have only a glimpse； would
like to have more； was a person better worth knowing。 His name reads like
the title of some old…fashioned novel〃Timothy Winn； or the Memoirs of
a Bashful Gentleman。〃 He came to Portsmouth from Woburn at the close
of the last century； and set up in the old museum…building on Mulberry
Street what was called 〃a piece goods store。〃 He was the third Timothy in
his monotonous family； and in order to differentiate himself he inscribed
on the sign over his shop door； 〃Timothy Winn； 3d；〃 and was ever after
called 〃Three…Penny Winn。〃 That he enjoyed the pleasantry； and clung to
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his sign； goes to show that he was a person who would ripen on further
acquaintance； were further acquaintance now practicable。 His next…door
neighbor； Mr。 Leonard Serat； who kept a modest tailoring establishment；
also tantalizes us a little with a dim intimation of originality。 He plainly
was without literary prejudices； for on one face of his swinging sign was
painted the word Taylor； and on the other Tailor。 This may have been a
delicate concession to that part of the communitythe greater part；
probablywhich would have spelled it with a y。
The building in which Messrs。 Winn and Serat had their shops was the
property of Nicholas Rousselet； a French gentleman of Demerara； the
story of whose unconventional courtship of Miss Catherine Moffatt is
pretty enough to bear retelling； and entitles him to a place in our limited
collection of etchings。 M。 Rousselet had doubtless already mad excursions
into the pays de tendre； and given Miss Catherine previous notice of the
state of his heart； but it was not until one day during the hour of service at
the Episcopal church that he brought matters to a crisis by handing to Miss
Moffatt a small Bible； on the fly…leaf of which he had penciled the fifth
verse of the Second Epistle of John
〃And now I beseech thee； lady； not as though I wrote a new
commandment unto thee； but that which we had from the beginning；
that we love one another。〃
This was not to be resisted； at lease not by Miss Catherine； who
demurely handed the volume back to him with a page turned down at the
sixteenth verse in the first chapter of Ruth
〃Whither thou goest； I will go； and where thou lodgest； I will
lodge： thy people shall be my people； and thy God my God： where thou
diest； will I die； and there will I be buried： the Lord do so to me； and more
also； if aught but death part thee and me。〃
Aside from this quaint touch of romance； what attaches me to the
happy pairfor the marriage was a fortunate oneis the fact that the
Rousselets made their home in the old Atkinson mansion； which stood
directly opposite my grandfather's house on Court Street and was torn
down in my childhood； to my great consternation。 The building had been
unoccupied for a quarter of a century； and was fast falling into decay with
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all its rich wood…carvings at cornice and lintel； but was it not full of ghosts；
and if the old barracks were demolished； would not these ghosts； or some
of them at least； take refuge in my grandfather's house just across the way？
Where else could they bestow themselves so conveniently？ While the
ancient mansion was in process of destruction； I used to peep round the
corner of our barn at the workmen； and watch the indignant phantoms go
soaring upward in spiral clouds of colonial dust。
A lady differing in many ways from Catherine Moffatt was the Mary
Atkinson （once an inmate of this same manor house） who fell to the lot of
the Rev。 William Shurtleff； pastor of the South Church between 1733 and
1747。 From the worldly standpoint； it was a fine match for the Newcastle
clergymanbeauty； of the eagle…beaked kind； wealth； her share of the
family plate； high birth； a sister to the Hon。 Theodore Atkinson。 But if the
exemplary man had cast his eyes lower； peradventure he had found more
happiness； though ill…bred persons without family plate are not necessarily
amiable。 Like Socrates； this long…suffering divine had always with him an
object on which to cultivate heavenly patience； and patience； says the
Eastern proverb； is the key to content。 The spirit of Xantippe seems to
have taken possession of Mrs。 Shurtleff immediately after her marriage。
The freakish disrespect with which she used her meek consort was a heavy
cross to bear at a period in New England when clerical dignity was at its
highest sensitive point。 Her devices for torturing the poor gentleman were
inexhaustible。 Now she lets his Sabbath ruffs go unstarched； now she
scandalizes him by some unseemly and frivolous color in her attire； now
she leaves him to cook his own dinner at the kitchen coals； and now she
locks him in his study； whither he has retired for a moment or two of
prayer； previous to setting forth to perform the morning service。 The
congregation has assembled； the sexton has tolled the bell twice as long as
is custom； and is beginning a third carillon； full of wonder that his
reverence does not appear； and there sits Mistress Shurtleff in the family
pew with a face as complacent as that of the cat that has eaten the canary。