The Pascalis family was a talented group. The man who was to lay out the city of Aiken, Cyril Pascalis, had a sister Francesca Anna Pascalis Canfield who was a poet, born in Philadelphia, who moved with her parents to New York City as a child. The family is in the 1810 census in Philadelphia. Francesca died in the sping of 1833 in New York. Her father Dr. Felix Alex Pascalis-Ouviere died July 1933 and Francesca's husband Palmer Canfield died that fall. By 1835 Francesca's mother Elizabeth Harris McKlintock Pascalis had moved to SC with her orphaned granddaughters, Theodocia and Felicia Canfield, to be with her son Cyril who was laying out the RR in Aiken, along with his friend Andrew Dexter. The plantation house was built at was was called Johnson's Turnout at some point in time. But it was in Barnwell County till 1871. Later the house was considered to be in Windsor, Aiken County.
There is probably a French connection between the founder of The Vale in Montmorenci and Dr. Felix Pascalis, Elizabeth's husband, born French.
From a brochure about Aiken-
http://www.aikencountysc.gov/tourism/otherareas.htm
James Achille de Caradueuc surveyed the railroad route
while Cyril Pascalis and Andrew Dexter designed the
nearby city streets of Aiken. Pascalis built a home for his
mother and sisters’ children at Johnson’s Turnout in 1832.
The home was Union headquarters during the Battle of
Aiken. By 1853, James Achille de Caradeuc owned over
800 acres in “Conway’s Valley”. He renamed the estate
“Vale on Mont Morency”, as it reminded him of the French
countryside where he lived after his parents’ death. He
produced wine for years in the area of Polecat Pond. The
Civil War claimed his two sons and he gave up the wine
business. He became engineer-in-chief and land agent for
the South Carolina Railroad until his death in 1895.
Elizabeth McKlintock was the daughter of Susanna Harris b between 1730 and 1741 and Mathew McKlintock. Susanna married between 1745 and 1758. On 4 March 1778 Mathew bought part of the property of Capt. Thomas Harris in Juniata County, PA. (Stewart, p. 101) They had daughter Elizabeth Harris McKlintock who is mentioned in the will of her aunt, Dolly Harris Turbett. Susanna's parents were William Harris and Elizabeth Glen whose children seem to have been born in Pennsylvania. How Susannah ended up in Nova Scotia to have Elizabeth I dont know but perhaps they went there for a holiday. Elizabeth Harris McClintock was born 1782 in Nova Scotia and later lived in Philadelphia, PA. She died 16 Aug 1864 in Aiken, SC. Elizabeth married 1801 in Philadelphia, PA to the much older and well regarded writer and researcher, Felix Alex Ouviere Pascalis born 1759 in France and who died 20 Jul 1833 in New York, New York
Two children from her marriage:
A. Cyril Ouviere Pascalis was born 1810 in Philadelphia, PA, graduate of Harvard, built his home at Johnsons Turnout (outside of now Aiken) in 1832, designed Aiken 1834, joined by his mother and 2 neices in 1835. Death 1836 on the Mississippi River unmarried and no issue
B. Francesca Anna Pascalis was born August 1803 Philadelphia, PA and died 28 May 1833 New York, NY. She married the older Palmer Canfield who was born 1791and died 17 Sept 1833 a few months later than she.
There is probably a French connection between the founder of The Vale in Montmorenci and Dr. Felix Pascalis, Elizabeth's husband, born French.
From a brochure about Aiken-
http://www.aikencountysc.gov/tourism/otherareas.htm
James Achille de Caradueuc surveyed the railroad route
while Cyril Pascalis and Andrew Dexter designed the
nearby city streets of Aiken. Pascalis built a home for his
mother and sisters’ children at Johnson’s Turnout in 1832.
The home was Union headquarters during the Battle of
Aiken. By 1853, James Achille de Caradeuc owned over
800 acres in “Conway’s Valley”. He renamed the estate
“Vale on Mont Morency”, as it reminded him of the French
countryside where he lived after his parents’ death. He
produced wine for years in the area of Polecat Pond. The
Civil War claimed his two sons and he gave up the wine
business. He became engineer-in-chief and land agent for
the South Carolina Railroad until his death in 1895.
Elizabeth McKlintock was the daughter of Susanna Harris b between 1730 and 1741 and Mathew McKlintock. Susanna married between 1745 and 1758. On 4 March 1778 Mathew bought part of the property of Capt. Thomas Harris in Juniata County, PA. (Stewart, p. 101) They had daughter Elizabeth Harris McKlintock who is mentioned in the will of her aunt, Dolly Harris Turbett. Susanna's parents were William Harris and Elizabeth Glen whose children seem to have been born in Pennsylvania. How Susannah ended up in Nova Scotia to have Elizabeth I dont know but perhaps they went there for a holiday. Elizabeth Harris McClintock was born 1782 in Nova Scotia and later lived in Philadelphia, PA. She died 16 Aug 1864 in Aiken, SC. Elizabeth married 1801 in Philadelphia, PA to the much older and well regarded writer and researcher, Felix Alex Ouviere Pascalis born 1759 in France and who died 20 Jul 1833 in New York, New York
Two children from her marriage:
A. Cyril Ouviere Pascalis was born 1810 in Philadelphia, PA, graduate of Harvard, built his home at Johnsons Turnout (outside of now Aiken) in 1832, designed Aiken 1834, joined by his mother and 2 neices in 1835. Death 1836 on the Mississippi River unmarried and no issue
B. Francesca Anna Pascalis was born August 1803 Philadelphia, PA and died 28 May 1833 New York, NY. She married the older Palmer Canfield who was born 1791and died 17 Sept 1833 a few months later than she.
Cyril was a civil engineer and was the resident engineer on the Charleston Hamburg Railroad which was the longest railroad in the world when completed in 1833. Cyril also laid out the town of Aiken. Some time later Cyril returned north to settle some of his father and sister’s investments. On his return South, he decided to make a detour west. While on a steamboat traveling on the Mississippi River, he disappeared. For months Cyril’s fate was undetermined, but then some of his possessions were found and a man confessed to the murder. A marker for Cyril is beside his mother, buried at Saint Thaddeus Cemetery in Aiken, South Carolina. At that time the cemetery may have been on the Edgefield side of the line with Barnwell Co.. The line being drawn down Whiskey right on to Silver Bluff to the Savannah River. But not sure if that.
“At the request of Major Alex Black Ag’t of the S. Carolina Canal & Rail Road Company we have surveyed and laid off 27 Squares or Blocks in the Town of Aiken bounded on the North by Edgefield St., on the East by Williams St., on the South by Rail Road Avenue and on the West by Newberry St, as in the above plat represented – This 19th September 1834.”
(signed) Cyril O. Pascalis
(signed) Andrew Alfred Dexter
The following article is from a book, but the death date for Anna Francesca Pascalis Canfield is wrong and put at 1823 instead of 28 May 1833 (1823 was 2 years before she married)- death notice 1833 appeared as Mrs. Frances Anna Canfield in the New York Post, "wife of Palmer Canfield (married Nov 9, 1825), of 78 Cedar St.." Not only did she have at least 2 children, but she published poems and helped her husband in a business and all of that could not have been done by age 20. She had consumption for 10 years from 1823 to 1833 and died 28 May 1833. Her father died according to the New York Evening Post 20 July 1833, perhaps of grief, at 78 Cedar St.. Cyril her brother was working on the plan for Aiken and the railroad from Charleston to Aiken and urged his mother to join him in the good climate of Aiken where they built a house. Cyril moved south later for awhile..
FRANCESCA CANFIELD (FRANCESCA ANNA PASCALIS) a daughter of Dr Felix A. Pascalis -b 1762 New Orleans or France- died July 1833 at 78 Cedar St, but had an office at 71 Liberty St NY,NY-New York, Death Newspaper Extracts, 1801-1890 (Barber Collection- Felix Alex Cuviere Pascalis MD Publication: 22 Jul 1833) an Italian physician and scholar who had married a native of Philadelphia (Elizabeth) and resided several years in Philadelphia. Francesca was born in August 1803 in Philadelphia. In 1810 NY NY her father had a boy and a girl under 10. In 1827
While she was a child her parents removed to New York where Dr Pascalis was conspicuous not only for his professional abilities but for his writings upon various curious and abstruse subjects in the medical field and philosophy and was intimate with many eminent persons among whom was Dr Samuel L Mitchill who was so pleased with Francesca that in 1815, when she was in the twelfth year of her age, he addressed to her the following playful and characteristic Valentine -
In school Miss Pascalis was particularly distinguished for the facility with which she acquired languages. At an early period she translated with ease and elegance from the French, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese and her instinctive appreciation of the harmonies of her native tongue was so delicate that her English compositions in both prose and verse were singularly musical as well as expressive and correct. The version of a French song Quand reverrai je en un jour ete is among the memorials of her fourteenth year and though much less compact than the original it is interesting as an illustration ol her own fine and precocious powers. While yet at school Miss Pascalis translated for a friend a volume from Lavater and soon afterward she made a beautiful English version of the Roman Nights from Le Notti Romane al Sepolcro Dei Scipioni of Ales sandroVerri. She also translated The Solitary and The Vine Dresser from the French and wrote some original poems in Italian which were much praised by judicious crities.
She was a frequent contributor under various signatures to the literary journals and among her pieces for this period that are preserved in Mr Knapp's biography is an address to her friend Mitchill which purported to be from Le Brun. A marriage of convenience was arranged for Miss Pascalis with Mr Canfield a broker who after a few months became a bankrupt and could never retrieve his fortunes. She bore her disappointments without complaining and when her husband established a financial and commereial gazette she labored industriously to make it attractive by literature but there was a poor opportunity among tables of currency and trade for the display of her graceful abilities and her writings probably attracted little attention.
She was a good pianist and she painted with such skill that some of her copies of old masters deceived clever artists. Her accomplishments however failed to invest with happiness a life of which the ambitious flowers had been so early blighted and yielding to consumption which can scareely enter the home of a cheerful spirit she died on the 28th of May 1823 before completing the twentieth year of her age. [sic- 28 May 1833 before age 30]. Dr Pascalis whose chief hopes were centred in his daughter abandoned his pursuits and after lingering through ten disconsolate years died in the summer of 1833. The death of her husband [Palmer Canfield on 17 Sep 1833] in the following autumn prevented the publication of an edition of her works which he had prepared for that purpose.
Folder 50
1880: Windsor, Aiken, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
J. C. Wade 50 Farmer SC SC SC
Theodosia Wade 53 NY NY NY (the only time she gives a correct birth state)
Fannie Wade 22 SC
Edward M. Wade 19 SC
Jas. M. Wade 17 SC
Florence Wade 14 SC
1900: Windsor, Aiken, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
Birth Date: Aug 1828
Marriage Year: 1852
years Married: 48
John C Wade 71 SC SC SC
Theodsia Wade 72
Fanny Wade 42 dau
Edward Shuler 14 grandson
John Shuler 12 grandson
1910: Windsor, Aiken, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
Marital Status: Widowed
J C Wade 85
John E Shuler 22
Augusta Chronicle Article 2
Augusta Chronicle article 3
Another reference -
REFERENCE: Cyril Obierre Shuler, From Mayflower to Pole Cat Pond, S.C.: A Family History Which Includes the Cushman, Lemar, Martin, Pascalis, Shuler, Wade and Woodward Families (Clemson, S.C.: the author, 1997), p. 107, 301.
Her is another account of Francesca's life, again with the death date wrong and put before the birth of her children:
“At the request of Major Alex Black Ag’t of the S. Carolina Canal & Rail Road Company we have surveyed and laid off 27 Squares or Blocks in the Town of Aiken bounded on the North by Edgefield St., on the East by Williams St., on the South by Rail Road Avenue and on the West by Newberry St, as in the above plat represented – This 19th September 1834.”
(signed) Cyril O. Pascalis
(signed) Andrew Alfred Dexter
| Pascalis Plantation / Pascalina | ||||||||||||||
Inscription. Pascalis Plantation
Elizabeth Pascalis purchased these 790 acres in 1835, settled here with her son Cyril Ouviere, and brought the orphaned children of her poet daughter, Francesca Canfield here, to live. Cyril, a civil engineer, was a resident engineer constructing the Charleston-Hamburg railroad (world’s longest when completed in 1833). In 1834 he helped lay out and survey streets in nearby Aiken.
Pascalina
Elizabeth Pascalis, born in Philadlephia and widow of the brilliant Dr. Felix Pascalis-Ouviere, MD, willed this house, once know as Pascalina, to her granddaughter, Theodosia Canfield, and husband John C. Wade, in 1863. The Wades were living here in February of 1865 when Union general Hugh Judson Kilpatrick used the house as headquarters during the Battle of Aiken. Theodosia's mother was a young poet Francesca Canfield. The house remained in the family until 1944.
| ||||||||||||||
The following article is from a book, but the death date for Anna Francesca Pascalis Canfield is wrong and put at 1823 instead of 28 May 1833 (1823 was 2 years before she married)- death notice 1833 appeared as Mrs. Frances Anna Canfield in the New York Post, "wife of Palmer Canfield (married Nov 9, 1825), of 78 Cedar St.." Not only did she have at least 2 children, but she published poems and helped her husband in a business and all of that could not have been done by age 20. She had consumption for 10 years from 1823 to 1833 and died 28 May 1833. Her father died according to the New York Evening Post 20 July 1833, perhaps of grief, at 78 Cedar St.. Cyril her brother was working on the plan for Aiken and the railroad from Charleston to Aiken and urged his mother to join him in the good climate of Aiken where they built a house. Cyril moved south later for awhile..
FRANCESCA CANFIELD (FRANCESCA ANNA PASCALIS) a daughter of Dr Felix A. Pascalis -b 1762 New Orleans or France- died July 1833 at 78 Cedar St, but had an office at 71 Liberty St NY,NY-New York, Death Newspaper Extracts, 1801-1890 (Barber Collection- Felix Alex Cuviere Pascalis MD Publication: 22 Jul 1833) an Italian physician and scholar who had married a native of Philadelphia (Elizabeth) and resided several years in Philadelphia. Francesca was born in August 1803 in Philadelphia. In 1810 NY NY her father had a boy and a girl under 10. In 1827
Annals of the Lyceum of Natural History of New York, Band 2 mentions that Dr Mitchell and Cyril Pascalis excavate the Delaware and Chesapeake Canals to find Ammonite.http://books.google.de/books?id=CJPOAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA273&lpg=PA273&dq=Cyril+Pascalis&source=bl&ots=MkPHqkMZ8R&sig=oNfdwdGpHmM26UQ-0dwBH7mxFRs&hl=de&sa=X&ei=TpTtT6GxI47jtQa_p7X2Dg&sqi=2&ved=0CE4Q6AEwAg#v=onepage&q=Cyril%20Pascalis&f=false
While she was a child her parents removed to New York where Dr Pascalis was conspicuous not only for his professional abilities but for his writings upon various curious and abstruse subjects in the medical field and philosophy and was intimate with many eminent persons among whom was Dr Samuel L Mitchill who was so pleased with Francesca that in 1815, when she was in the twelfth year of her age, he addressed to her the following playful and characteristic Valentine -
Descending snows the earth o'erspread Keen blows the northern blast
Condensing clouds scowl over head
The tempest gathers fast
But soon the icy mass shall melt
The winter end his reign
The sun's reviving warmth be felt
And nature smile again.
The plants from torpid sleep shall wake
And nursed by vernal showers.
Their yearly exhibition make
Of foliage and of flowers
So you an opening bud appear
Whose bloom and verdure shoot
To load Francesca's growing year
With intellectual fruit
The feathered tribes shall flit along
And thicken on the trees
Till air shall undulate with song
Till music stir the breeze
Thus like a charming bird your lay
The listening ear shall greet.
And render social cireles gay
Or make retirement sweet
Then warblers chirp and roses open
To entertain my fair
Till nobler themes engage her hope
And occupy her care
Condensing clouds scowl over head
The tempest gathers fast
But soon the icy mass shall melt
The winter end his reign
The sun's reviving warmth be felt
And nature smile again.
The plants from torpid sleep shall wake
And nursed by vernal showers.
Their yearly exhibition make
Of foliage and of flowers
So you an opening bud appear
Whose bloom and verdure shoot
To load Francesca's growing year
With intellectual fruit
The feathered tribes shall flit along
And thicken on the trees
Till air shall undulate with song
Till music stir the breeze
Thus like a charming bird your lay
The listening ear shall greet.
And render social cireles gay
Or make retirement sweet
Then warblers chirp and roses open
To entertain my fair
Till nobler themes engage her hope
And occupy her care
In school Miss Pascalis was particularly distinguished for the facility with which she acquired languages. At an early period she translated with ease and elegance from the French, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese and her instinctive appreciation of the harmonies of her native tongue was so delicate that her English compositions in both prose and verse were singularly musical as well as expressive and correct. The version of a French song Quand reverrai je en un jour ete is among the memorials of her fourteenth year and though much less compact than the original it is interesting as an illustration ol her own fine and precocious powers. While yet at school Miss Pascalis translated for a friend a volume from Lavater and soon afterward she made a beautiful English version of the Roman Nights from Le Notti Romane al Sepolcro Dei Scipioni of Ales sandroVerri. She also translated The Solitary and The Vine Dresser from the French and wrote some original poems in Italian which were much praised by judicious crities.
She was a frequent contributor under various signatures to the literary journals and among her pieces for this period that are preserved in Mr Knapp's biography is an address to her friend Mitchill which purported to be from Le Brun. A marriage of convenience was arranged for Miss Pascalis with Mr Canfield a broker who after a few months became a bankrupt and could never retrieve his fortunes. She bore her disappointments without complaining and when her husband established a financial and commereial gazette she labored industriously to make it attractive by literature but there was a poor opportunity among tables of currency and trade for the display of her graceful abilities and her writings probably attracted little attention.
She was a good pianist and she painted with such skill that some of her copies of old masters deceived clever artists. Her accomplishments however failed to invest with happiness a life of which the ambitious flowers had been so early blighted and yielding to consumption which can scareely enter the home of a cheerful spirit she died on the 28th of May 1823 before completing the twentieth year of her age. [sic- 28 May 1833 before age 30]. Dr Pascalis whose chief hopes were centred in his daughter abandoned his pursuits and after lingering through ten disconsolate years died in the summer of 1833. The death of her husband [Palmer Canfield on 17 Sep 1833] in the following autumn prevented the publication of an edition of her works which he had prepared for that purpose.
above from_
The female poets of America By Rufus Wilmot Griswold
REFERENCE: Cyril Obierre Shuler, From Mayflower to Pole Cat Pond, S.C .: A Family History Which Includes the Cushman, Lemar, Martin, Pascalis, Shuler, Wade and Woodward Families (Clemson, S.C.: the author, 1997), p. 10 7, 301.
========================================REFERENCE: Cyril Obierre Shuler, From Mayflower to Pole Cat Pond, S.C .: A Family History Which Includes the Cushman, Lemar, Martin, Pascalis, Shuler, Wade and Woodward Families (Clemson, S.C.: the author, 1997), p. 10 7, 301.
Elizabeth H. Pascalis, native of Philadlephia but born in Nova Scotia, was born Elizabeth Harris McClintock. She was the widow of Dr. Felix Alex Pascalis-Ouviere MD, writer, researcher, scholar and silk culturist. After the death of her daughter in 25 May 1833, her husband 20 July 1833 and her son in law 17 Sept 1833, she purchased these 790 acres in 1835, settling here with her son Cyril Ouviere Pascalis, and brought the orphaned children of her daughter, the poetess Anna Francesca who married Palmer Canfield on 9 November 1825, to the newly laid out town of Aiken SC from New York City to live. Dr. Felix Pascalis' son Cyril, a civil engineer graduate of Harvard at a young age, was a resident engineer constructing the Charleston-Hamburg railroad (world’s longest when completed in 1833). In 1834 Cyrus helped lay out and survey streets in nearby Aiken. His father Dr Pascalis was a well known contemporary of Dr Benjamin Rush of Philadlephia and corresponded about the 1797 epedemic. Dr. Pascalis also corresponded briefly with Thomas Jefferson.
Folder 49
11 May 1824 ALS Samuel L. Mitchell and Felix Pascalis, New York, to Thomas Jefferson. Write as members of the Linneau Society of Paris, and invite
Jefferson to be present at the anniversary of their “titular sage.” (2 pages)
Folder 50
17 May 1824 ALS Thomas Jefferson [initials only], Monticello, to Dr. Samuel Mitchell and Dr. Felix Pascalis. Thanks them for their invitation, and
believes that he will soon be meeting the great Naturalist himself. (2 pages, polygraph)
Document #61
Date: 16 August 1806
Reel #: 27
Film Counter: 396-397
LWS #: 1273
To: Dr. Felix Pascalis
From: Thomas Jefferson
Location: New York
Number of Pages: 2
Type of Manuscript: handwritten by Jefferson
Content:
– No signature on letter
– Mentions Dr. Paschalis and Jefferson in 3rd person several times
– Jefferson returns the subscription paper to Dr. Paschalis
– Feels the doctrine that the doctor proposes is founded 'in fact' and would be of interest to American Commerce
Pascalina
Dr. Felix Pascalis' widow Elizabeth H. Pascalis willed this house, once know as Pascalina, to her granddaughter, Theodosia Wade, and husband John C. Wade, in 1863.
1850: Barnwell, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -Aiken Co formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
W D Wade 50
Temperance Wade 45
Robert Wade 22
John Wade 20 married Theodosia Canfield
Hampton Wade 18
Martha Wade 13
Richard Wade 10
Laura Wade 12
Wm Wade 7
Louisana Wade 5
Washington Wade 3
1850: Barnwell, South Carolina
(now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
(Adaline Wade 18 is next door with married May Wilson 23)
Eliza Paschallas 70 SC (actually born PA)
Felicia Paschallas 18 SC (Canfiled born NY)
Thoodise Paschallas 25 SC " (Canfield b 29 Sept 1826 in New York buried Bethany
Cem Aiken SC)
1850: Barnwell, South Carolina
This is a private school- (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -Aiken Co formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
Julia Dupree 50 scholarship
Henry Bonsteine 45
Sarah Hudson 40
Lina Whiskeynaure 21
Felicia Camfield 18
Henrietta Harden 14
Cynthia Prichard 16
Ann Duncan 12
Ann Sartigue 10
Fanny Sartigue 8
1860: Barnwell, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
Post Office: Aiken
E H Pascallis 78 Nova Scotia $5500 $1260
1860 Barnwell SC (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
PO Woodwards
J C Wade 27 SC
Theadotia Wade 31 SC (born NY)
John Wade 7 SC
Louisa Wade 5
Francisco Wade 3 (named after her grandmother Francesca Pascalis)
Hemans Wade 1 (Felicia Hemans Wade b 7 FEB 1859, named after her aunt Felicia Canfield)
Document #61
Date: 16 August 1806
Reel #: 27
Film Counter: 396-397
LWS #: 1273
To: Dr. Felix Pascalis
From: Thomas Jefferson
Location: New York
Number of Pages: 2
Type of Manuscript: handwritten by Jefferson
Content:
– No signature on letter
– Mentions Dr. Paschalis and Jefferson in 3rd person several times
– Jefferson returns the subscription paper to Dr. Paschalis
– Feels the doctrine that the doctor proposes is founded 'in fact' and would be of interest to American Commerce
Pascalina
Dr. Felix Pascalis' widow Elizabeth H. Pascalis willed this house, once know as Pascalina, to her granddaughter, Theodosia Wade, and husband John C. Wade, in 1863.
1850: Barnwell, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -Aiken Co formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
W D Wade 50
Temperance Wade 45
Robert Wade 22
John Wade 20 married Theodosia Canfield
Hampton Wade 18
Martha Wade 13
Richard Wade 10
Laura Wade 12
Wm Wade 7
Louisana Wade 5
Washington Wade 3
1850: Barnwell, South Carolina
(now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
(Adaline Wade 18 is next door with married May Wilson 23)
Eliza Paschallas 70 SC (actually born PA)
Felicia Paschallas 18 SC (Canfiled born NY)
Thoodise Paschallas 25 SC " (Canfield b 29 Sept 1826 in New York buried Bethany
Cem Aiken SC)
1850: Barnwell, South Carolina
This is a private school- (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -Aiken Co formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
Julia Dupree 50 scholarship
Henry Bonsteine 45
Sarah Hudson 40
Lina Whiskeynaure 21
Felicia Camfield 18
Henrietta Harden 14
Cynthia Prichard 16
Ann Duncan 12
Ann Sartigue 10
Fanny Sartigue 8
1860: Barnwell, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
Post Office: Aiken
E H Pascallis 78 Nova Scotia $5500 $1260
1860 Barnwell SC (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
PO Woodwards
J C Wade 27 SC
Theadotia Wade 31 SC (born NY)
John Wade 7 SC
Louisa Wade 5
Francisco Wade 3 (named after her grandmother Francesca Pascalis)
Hemans Wade 1 (Felicia Hemans Wade b 7 FEB 1859, named after her aunt Felicia Canfield)
1880: Windsor, Aiken, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
J. C. Wade 50 Farmer SC SC SC
Theodosia Wade 53 NY NY NY (the only time she gives a correct birth state)
Fannie Wade 22 SC
Edward M. Wade 19 SC
Jas. M. Wade 17 SC
Florence Wade 14 SC
1900: Windsor, Aiken, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
Birth Date: Aug 1828
Marriage Year: 1852
years Married: 48
John C Wade 71 SC SC SC
Theodsia Wade 72
Fanny Wade 42 dau
Edward Shuler 14 grandson
John Shuler 12 grandson
1910: Windsor, Aiken, South Carolina (now on rt 302 in Aiken,SC -formed 1871 out of Barnwell, Edgefield, Lexington and Orangeburg counties)
Marital Status: Widowed
J C Wade 85
John E Shuler 22
( see 2006 clip of article below) It mentions the daughter of John Martin Hitt who was born 29 AUG 1880 at Aiken Co., South Carolina Death: 12 AUG 1925 in Aiken Co., South Carolina- Ola Ruth Hitt b: 18 APR 1910 in Martinez, Columbia Co., Georgia
Aiken resident Ola Hitt, 95, who lived in the house during the 1920s, said she and her four siblings picked cotton in nearby fields and waved to the conductors of trains that passed on the tracks..... Cyril Pascalis moved into the home with his mother, Elizabeth, who purchased the 790-acre property in 1835, and came to live with the (just) orphaned children of his sister, Francesca (Pascalis) Canfield. Mrs. Eliza (Elizabeth) Pascalis willed the house to her granddaughter Theodosia Wade and her husband, John Calhoun Wade (b 1827), in 1863. In 1865, Union Gen. Hugh Judson Kilpatrick used the house as his headquarters during the Battle of Aiken. Ms. Hitt, who is Mrs. Wade's granddaughter, said her grandmother hid the family valuables in the woods before the Union soldiers arrived. "My grandmother (sic- she may mean great grandmother) took off her ring and tied it in a handkerchief and buried it by the trunk of the trees," Ms. Hitt said. She said the Union soldiers tied their horses to the trees and "they pawed it up." The ring was lost for two decades, she said, until her grandmother found it while she was working in the garden 20 years to the day after she had hidden it."
Aiken resident Ola Hitt, 95, who lived in the house during the 1920s, said she and her four siblings picked cotton in nearby fields and waved to the conductors of trains that passed on the tracks..... Cyril Pascalis moved into the home with his mother, Elizabeth, who purchased the 790-acre property in 1835, and came to live with the (just) orphaned children of his sister, Francesca (Pascalis) Canfield. Mrs. Eliza (Elizabeth) Pascalis willed the house to her granddaughter Theodosia Wade and her husband, John Calhoun Wade (b 1827), in 1863. In 1865, Union Gen. Hugh Judson Kilpatrick used the house as his headquarters during the Battle of Aiken. Ms. Hitt, who is Mrs. Wade's granddaughter, said her grandmother hid the family valuables in the woods before the Union soldiers arrived. "My grandmother (sic- she may mean great grandmother) took off her ring and tied it in a handkerchief and buried it by the trunk of the trees," Ms. Hitt said. She said the Union soldiers tied their horses to the trees and "they pawed it up." The ring was lost for two decades, she said, until her grandmother found it while she was working in the garden 20 years to the day after she had hidden it."
Augusta Chronicle Article 2
Augusta Chronicle article 3
Another reference -
REFERENCE: Cyril Obierre Shuler, From Mayflower to Pole Cat Pond, S.C.: A Family History Which Includes the Cushman, Lemar, Martin, Pascalis, Shuler, Wade and Woodward Families (Clemson, S.C.: the author, 1997), p. 107, 301.
Her is another account of Francesca's life, again with the death date wrong and put before the birth of her children:
http://www.archive.org/stream/femalebiographyc01knap/femalebiographyc01knap_djvu.txt Francisca Anna Pascalis Canfield, was born in Phila- delphia, in August 1803. She was the daughter of Felix Pascalis, M. D., distinguished in the medical and philosophical world, for his numerous dissertations on abstruse subjects, for his practice in the yellow fever, and other extraordinary disor- ders, and as a political economist, who has made great exer- tions in introducing into the United States, the Chinese mulberry tree, in order to encourage the making of silk in this country. Her parents resided for some years after their marriage in Philadel- phia, of which place her mother was a native, and afterwards removed to New York. Miss Pascalis was remarkable for her intellectual acquirements, when quite a child, although she had not any extraordinary advantages of education. Her father was too busy in his professional and philosophical pursuits, to pay much attention to his daughter's education, and her mother went no farther in the course of her studies, than to see that she was industrious, and could give a good account of her time. When only ten years of age, she attracted the attention of that sagacious philosopher, and deep judge of human nature, Dr. Samuel L. Mitchill, who playfully became her Valentine, and wrote her the following in 1815. It clearly proves that he foresaw that distinction awaited his youthful friend.
In school Miss Pascalis was at the head of her class, and mastered languages with such readiness, that her instructors often suspected her father of devoting his time in bringing her forward, when he hardly knew what she was studying at the time. She made translations from the French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese, for mere amusement, or for school exercises; and many of them have been preserved by her friends, and show unquestionable evidences of genius. She early caught the spirit of universal grammar, and found no difficulty in getting posses- sion of the beauties, and idiom of a language. Her poetical taste early appeared, and at a very tender age she wrote sonnets, criticisms, satires, hymns, and epistles to her friends in verse. There are many of her productions preserved, which she wrote between the ages of eleven and fifteen, that are excellent. The following translation from the French, she wrote when she was only thirteen; it is difficult to pour the soul of a song into a translation, but certainly there is much in this that might remind others besides soldiers of their home. Q,uand reverrai-je en un jour, Tous les objets de mon amour? Nos clairs ruisseaux ; Nos coteaux ; Nos hameaux ; Nos montagnes, Et I'ornement de nos campagnes 1 La si gentille Isabeau, A I'ombre d'un ormeau ; Quand danserai-je au son du chalumeau 1
Quand reverrai-je en un jour, Tous les objets de mon amour 1 Mon pere, Ma mere, Mon frere, Ma SQBur, Mes agneaux, Mes troupeaux, Ma bergere ; Q,uand reverrai-je en un jour, Tous ces objets de mon amour 1 (translated by request.) The day how blissful will it be, When each loved object I shall see. The clear and purling rill. The mountain top so grey. The verdure-covered hill, The distant hamlets gay. The glacier's summits pale, And my native sheltered vale, Of my ancestors the grave, Where the elm's hoar branches wave, To the gale. When to the soft breathing sound of the lute Shall I merrily dance with the light-bounding foot, Graze with delight on my Isabel's smile, That lightened my labor, and sweetened my toil 1 That day how bhssful will it be, When each loved object I shall see. My father — my mother, My sister — my brother. My sheep which love the shade, Of the flower-cinctured glade ; The woodbine o'er the thatch which creeps, The rose which round my dwelling weeps ; And she, my fond and charming maid ! — That day with bliss shall crowned be, When each loved object I will see. Before Miss Pascalis had left school, she translated from the French a volume of Lavater's work for a friend, who had engraved the plates of the work from the original. Soon after this, she translated the " Solitaire," from the French, and the •' Roman Nights," from the Italian of Alexander Verri, and the " Vine Dresser," from the French, at a subsequent period. The 112 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. English of her works are extolled as excellent. In the " Roman Nights," as it appears in the English dress, there is much of the noble flow of Tully, with the delicacy of the best Italian writers. A splendid Italian scholar, Dr. William Taylor, of the catholic church, considered Miss Pascalis' " Roman Nights," as the best translation he had ever read of any work from his beloved Italian, and was of opinion also that she was a most delightful poet in her own language. We quote the introduction of this splendid work of Verri as a specimen of her talent at translation. " On my first acquaintance with the writings of the ancients, my admiration became fixed by the grandeur and elevation of their style, and the extraordinary times which they commemo- rated. But gigantic Rome towered above all the other nations of antiquity, as superior by a heroic strength and a noble pride of character, as by the magnitude and extent of her conquests. After having been long habituated to the study and contempla- tion of her heroes, my infatuated mind peopled my solitary retirement with their society. I felt their presence in lonely and quiet groves, or when wandering by some meandering rivulet : there, beyond all intrusion on my thoughts, save the warbling of a bird, or the whispers of the breeze, my spirit, absorbed in deep meditation, seemed to forget my present being, and would soar away to those distant ages. This bias of my imagination so increased by indulgence, that at length I began to cherish a strange and strong desire, and secret hope, of being able to invoke from the dead, some of the celebrated characters of the once mistress of the world; to view them face to face, and hold communion with them. Petrarch undoubtedly felt the same aspiration ; for we know that he composed letters to Cicero, Seneca, Livy, and Varro, thus enabling himself to pass over the intermediary interval of ages, and establish an inter- course with the greatest of the ancients. The enthusiasm also of Pomponius Letus was a precedent for mine : deeply versed in the antiquities of his country, he w^as often seen standing motionless among ruins, bedewing them with the tears of admi- ration. Attracted by the same taste, and ardently desirous of FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 113 yielding to my mind the most lively gratification of which it was susceptible, I left the plains of Lombardy for Rome, on which my fancy so continually rested. " Those only who have tasted the delights of classic erudition, can comprehend the multitude of sensations that crowd upon the traveller, when, from the heights of the Appenines, he sees the road descend before him to the Eternal City ! The eye, with eager curiosity, seeks for the summits of the Seven Hills ; the heart, still more impatient, swells with anticipation ; and every fragment of ruins on the road, becomes the object of learned conjecture and of complacent speculation, " When I found myself on the Flaminian Way, I thought of its ancient magnificent extent from Rome to Rimini, and of the consul from whom it derived its name, who fell in the me- morable battle with Hannibal, at the lake of Thrasymene. I was still absorbed in the reveries these thoughts induced, when I passed through the noble gate which terminates the Flaminian. Its majestic architecture seemed to continue the pleasing illusion with which I persuaded myself, that I was entering the marble city of the emperor Augustus. I will not attempt to detail all my feelings during the first moments of my residence at Rome, for there are impressions to which the most able description could not render justice. It were better to pass over in silence my overw^helming emotions at the first sight of the sacred Tiber ; the Egyptian obelisks ; temples still black with the smoke of ancient sacrifices ; the Flavian amphitheatre, resting in ruins like an overthrown colossus ; the columns on which the military regu- lations were graven ; the site of the forum ; the mausoleums ; ihe thermal baths; the triumphal arches; the stupendous remains of the circi ; and all the other monuments of Roman grandeur and magnificence, which command our wonder and admiration. " It was in that season of the year when the vapors of autumn moisten the earths after the burning heats of summer. The sky, where it gleamed through the piles of snowy clouds, was deeply blue ; the parched plants had resumed their former verdure, and the green turf wore the freshness of spring 10* 114 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. Instead of the shrill monotonous chirp of the field-cricket, the ear was now saluted by the musical warbling of a thousand birds, that wantoned on the balmy air in innocent security, ignorant of the snares of the fowler. At this time there was a rumor in Rome, that the sepulchre of the Scipios, which had been the object of so much useless research, was at length dis- covered. This interesting fact made me immediately renounce every other object ; for the monuments of great men penetrate the soul that loves the calm of reflection, with a pleasing melan- choly, far preferable to the exultation of gayety and the turbu- lence of mirth. When nio-ht came, brinsfing: the silence and obscurity favorable to my design, I repaired to the spot, which was marked by a rustic hovel ; thence a narrow and irregular excavation leads to the catacombs. Through this steep and rocky passage, I entered the tomb of the valiant race of the Scipios. The remains of some of them had been disinterred from the earth and ruins, under which others were still buried. I approached them, carrying a flambeau to guide my steps ; and by its glimmering light I perceived the mouldering remains mingled together among the stones and the loose earth. Slowly moving my torch around me, I marked with dissatisfaction and pain the inroads of the spade on these spoils of the grave, worthy of being enshrined in sarcophagi of alabaster, but now become toys for the vulgar curious, and the sport of the populace. "" But learned travellers, attracted to Rome from all parts of the globe, by an enlightened taste for antiquity, had been willing to express a due veneration for these precious relics ; and had hastened to gather and transfer some to distant cabinets as pledges of their respect to the memory of the Scipios. Even foreign ladies of rank, on hearing of this discovery, had fear- lessly exposed their delicate feet to the rugged soil of the cavern; and had touched with their fair and soft hands these crumbling bones, sad evidences of human caducity. As for me, I could not avoid feeling a shudder of reluctance to tread under foot the remains of that race of heroes ; and as I walked, to crush perhaps the head or the arm of one of those triumphant sons of victory. FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 115 " These venerable tombs bear in their simplicity the stamp of those better days of the republic, when the Romans sought not to distinguish themselves by vain magnificence, but by the splen- dor of their virtues. They are built only of coarse stone, rough hewn ; and the names and actions of the dead are traced simply in red ochre, fortunately yet uninjured. The monumental inscriptions are in the ancient Latin tongue, and modestl}^ record, in a concise style, the famous actions of those deposited within them. The pyramid of Caius Cestius still stands, I said, as I gazed around me, though his fame is so obscure that scarce a trace of it is found in history. Thus his pompous tomb has transmitted, from age to age, a name unaccompanied with any title to glorious distinction ; while, by the vicissitude of events, these ashes are disturbed, which for so many centuries have been buried from human eye. While my mind was immersed in reflections of this nature, the night breeze suddenly rushed through the mouth of the cavern, and in a moment my torch was extinguished. This accident was not unpleasing ; by shut- ting out all visible images it seemed to lend new vigor to my soul, more deeply devoted to contemplation in the midst of total darkness. The gloomy domains of death seemed to open before me, and again I was seized with the desire of communing with their pale inhabitants Suddenly, I heard a plaintive mur- muring of inarticulate sounds, slowly extending and increasing; it resembled the noise of the winds roaring through ravines. The earth shook under my feet; and my ears rung as with the hum of bees. The bones of the dead striking against the sides of the tombs, rattled like the crashing of dry branches. The tablets of the sepulchres seemed to be slightly raised, and then to fall back to their places ; at least such a sound caught my attention in that obscurity. I confess that human fears then pre- vailed over noble desires, and a cold chill froze the current in my veins. There are none but would have shared my awe ; none who would not have trembled at a trial so far above the ordinary strength of human nature. By degrees the air became calm, the earth grew firm beneath me, and at intervals a phos- phoric light expanded around, by which I began to discern a 115 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. few human faces slowly appearing in the tombs. I next distin- guished their arms supporting the lids of stone which covered them. At length every sarcophagus seemed to hold a spectre, standing and disclosing the upper parts of the body. I saw the head and shoulders of children and young persons, and the upper half of the forms of men. The females with modest de- meanor stood shrouded in veils, which some of them drew aside. There were youths whose thick locks shaded their brows ; they divided them on their foreheads, or flung them back upon their shoulders ; while other spectres by their baldness and white hair, seemed to have died in the decline of their years. The faces of young virgins, cut off in the dawn of their loveliness, though shaded by death, were still blooming with a faint carnation, like the tender tints of the cropped flower. But the eyes of the phan- toms were heavy, and as if weighed down by the slumber of ages. While they gradually raised their heads, and fixed their glances on me with a sIoav and confused expression, like sleepers just awakened, I perceived a phosphoric glare in the distant part of the cavern. It accompanied a spectre who advanced with a majestic mien, clothed in the white toga, and resembling the con- sular statues. His countenance was replete with mild dignity: he seemed past the prime of manhood ; and his aspect inspired respect and reverence. No sooner was he perceived by the spectres among the tombs, than they hurried to meet him, and pressed around him with admiration and homage ; but there was something in their low voices too melancholy for language to ex- press. Alone in the midst of the immense crowd that surrounded him, he stood proudly erect, with conscious superiority, and seemed preparing to address them. Almost breathless in anxious suspense, I leaned myself against the side of a tomb, subdued to silence by sentiments of surprise and veneration." Many of the periodicals of the day were adorned by compo- sitions from her pen both in prose and verse. The Minerva, the Mirror, and other papers w^ere much indebted to her pen for some of their most attractive articles. There are many of her tales which purport to be translations that were known to be originally from her study, never having seen the light before FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. llT they appeared in an English dress. She changed the signa- ture affixed to her poetical effusions, as well as to her prose works, for concealment, not wishing it to be known that she wrote so much. One of her signatures was " Salonina." By this signature she addressed to her friend Dr. Mitchill, a poetical epistle, purporting to be a translation from Le Brun. It is a paraphrase more properly. Mitchill, although the envious frown, Their idle wrath disdain ! Upon thy bright and pure renown, They cannot cast a stain. Ida, the heaven-crown'd, feels the storm Rave fiercely round her towering form. Her brow it cannot gain, Calm, sunny, in majestic pride. It marks the powerless blast subside. And didst thou ever hope to stand, So glorious and so high, Receive all honor and command, Nor meet a jealous eye? No, thou must expiate thy fame. Thy noble, thy exalted name ; Yet pass thou proudly by ! The torrent may with vagrant force. Disturb, but cannot change thy course. Or, should thou dread the threats to brave Of malice, wilful — dire. Break thou the sceptre genius gave. And quench thy spirit's fire ; Down from thy heights of soul descend, Thy flaming pinions earthward bend, Fulfil thy foes' desire ; Thy immortaUty contemn, And walk in common ways vdth them. The lighter tasks of wit and mind, Let fickle taste adore ; But Genius' flight is unconfin'd, O'er prostrate time to soar. How glows he, when Ambition tears, The veil from gone and coming years ' While ages past before. To him their future being trust. Though empires crumble into dust. il8 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. Without this magic, which the crowd Nor comprehend, nor feel. Could Genius' son have ever vow'd. His ductile heart to steel, 'Gainst all that leads the human breast, To turn to indolence and rest ; From Science' haunts to steal, To Beauty, Wealth, and Ease, and Cheer, All that delight the senses here? And thus he earns a meed of praise, From nations yet unborn ; Still he, whom present pomp repays, His arduous toil may scorn ; But wiser, sure, than hoard the rose, Which low for each way-farer blows, And lives a summer morn, To climb the rocky mountain way. And gather the unfading bay. Yet wo for him whose mental worth Fame's thousand tongues resound ! While living, every worm of earth, Seems privileged to wound. His victory not the less secure. Let him the strife with nerve endure, In death his triumph found ; Then worlds shall with each other vie, To spread the name that cannot die. Miss Pascalis was married to Mr. Canfield, a lottery vender and exchange broker. He was a man of enterprise, but failed soon after their marriage. The union of such an accomplished woman with Mr. Canfield was not hailed as a very suitable one, and so it proved. On the change of his fortunes she en- treated him to come down to his situation, and make safe and sure efforts to rise again. This did not agree with his views, and her advice was disregarded. Mrs. Canfield was never heard to repine. She made the best of every thing. Among other attempts to retrieve his fortunes, her husband published a paper called " Canfield's Lottery Argus, Commercial and Exchange Telegraph, or National Miscellany." The great object of the paper was, of course, to give the public all such matters and things as are necessarily connected with banks and brokerage, and in this department he was an adept. To FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 119 this he added a literary department of which his wife took charge. But few readers of miscellaneous literature, thought of looking into such a paper for matters of taste and genius, and of course her efforts were almost entirely " wasted on the desert air." Many editors plundered her columns, thinking that they should never be detected. It was not the proper situ- ation for one so well calculated to fill a higher sphere. But as editor of this department she continued a helpmate to her hus- band, while the paper existed, and it was continued for several years. Among other accomplishments, she was an excellent painter, and if she had confined her attention to that branch of the fine arts, she would have been the first female painter of the age. She drew a landscape, a flower, a stream, or a human being, all with equal ease. She sketched with readiness, and finished with taste. Some of her copies of old pictures have deceived professional painters. One of her copies was sold at auction for an original, and the mistake was not discovered until men- tioned by her father. She was a tolerable musician, and played with some science and skill, although she had no passion for the art. Her imagination was powerful, and her invention often surprising, yet her logical powers were always controling when in connection with her imagination. There is a depth of thought in her reasoning which gives strength to her argu- ments, and an elegance of expression in her language which should be denominated eloquence. In reasoning, her heart was a vassal to her understanding. In Avriting, she seemed to have been constantly under the influence of the advice thus given to Pindar : " Moderate your fire ; the axle of your chariot wheels burns too soon." Mrs. Canfield was, from infancy, fond of retirement, and pre- ferred solitude, and a small circle of warm and admiring friends, to all the pleasures of the gay and fashionable world. Though modest and retiring, and almost bashful, when curiosity was investigating her merits, or she thought herself gazed at by the public, yet she was open, free, eloquent, and enchanting, when she was with her chosen few. Nature had given her the 120 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. power of a satirist, and sometimes she was induced to show that she possessed it; but she preferred to praise the good, rather than to censure the blamable. She wrote some critical notices of reviews, which cut deep, and were felt long. She was not destined to long life ; for some time previous to her dissolu- tion, she knew that her life-blood was on the lees, and that her days would soon be finished, but she was not alarmed; she knew that the debt of nature must sooner or later be paid, and she was ready to meet it. Mrs. Canfield by some was called handsome, others who think prettiness makes beauty, would not concur in the opinion. Her large hazle eye beamed with the lustre of genius, and the combination of her features gave a re- fined, intellectual and expressive cast to her countenance when in repose; but it was in the gentle agitation of her soul, that her beauty was seen and acknowledged. Misfortune had made some inroads upon her face, but still its ethereal character was softened, not changed. She wasted away by that consumption which comes from a broken heart, and which gives the sufferer a full gaze of death, as he approaches ; but she saw his grim visage without dismay. She left four children to feel the want of a mother's care ; and although she was assured that others would faithfully discharge the duties she was not allowed by divine providence to pay herself, still it must have been hard for a mother to part with four infant children. The most gifted of the daughters of men must pass away like the humblest, and the places that knew them shall know them no more. The most delicate and lovely of all earth-born flowers bursts upon us in the shades of night, and is not, when the morning sun arises. Many a cactus grandijiorus of the moral and intel- lectual world appear and die, known only to a few. It should be remembered, in estimating her powers of mind, that she wrote most of her com^munications for the Argus, when poverty had sickened her heart and destroyed the harmony of the social circle, and the wolves of the law were at the door ; yet, there is no sighing, no repining, to be found in a single sen- tence from her pen. Nothing escaped her by which one could divine that a cloud had rested upon her house, or a shade upon FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 121 her future hopes. Dr. Pascalis was an ambitious man, and indulged the fond belief, that he should see his daughter sought for, and distinguished, in the first circles of mind and accom- plishments, and never enjoyed himself a moment after this vision of his hopes had disappeared, by the marriage of his daughter to Mr. Canfield. There seems to be, in the inscrutable laws of divine providence, in his moral government, a blight upon the expectations and prospects of those who disregard, the deep feelings of parental advice, in the choice of a partner for life. The kindest attentions of a fond husband, and the innocent prattle of sweetest babes, and all the enjoyment of fortune, can- not efface from the mind of a woman the frowns of a father at her disobedience, long after the face on which the frown has settled, has mouldered into dust. Mrs. Canfield died on the twenty-eighth of May, 1823. Her father was disconsolate at her loss, and never again resumed his cheerfulness, or his pursuits. He lingered until July, 1833, when he followed his daughter to the grave. Her husband died in September following. He had collected many of her productions, and intended to publish them in one or two volumes. This, pro- bably, will not be done at present. We present a few of them, selected more in regard to our limits than to their respective merits. The old money broker is a graphic sketch, bold, severe but just. THE OLD MONEY-BROKER. I wish I could make you catch the likeness, — his face pale and tawny, a complexion that I would call mooney, it looks so much like badly washed Sheffield. His hair, brushed smooth, is ashen grey, and lies close to his head. His features are as settled and unruffled as if moulded in bronze. There are scarcely any lashes to his small grey eyes, which are as yellow as weasels' ; his nose is sharp, his lips thin ; and his sight always protected against the glare of broad day by a green lining to the front of his old jockey cap. He speaks with a low voice, and never looses his temper in an argument with his customers. He is always apparalled in sable. What his age may be, is all a 11 122 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. guess ; you cannot tell whether he has become old before his time, or whether he has so husbanded his youth and vigor as to be wearing them out at the slowest possible rate. His room is as neat as an Englishman's coat ; but every thing in it is threadbare, from the coverlit on the bed to the green baize of the secretary. It seems the cold recess of one of those ancient spinsters, who spend the livelong day in rubbing up the old furniture. And every thing in it is defective or cross-grained; even to the very fire-brands, in the coldest winter's day, I have never seen them blazing; but they smoulder away without flame, half smothered in the bed of ashes. The life of this man passes away as noiselessly as the sands of an antique hour-glass. From the hour he rises, to his fit of coughing in the evening, all his actions are as regular as the movements of a clock. He is nothing better than the model of a man, running down and wound up from sun to sun. If you touch a wood-louse, crawling over a piece of paper, it stops and feigns death ; just so, if a carriage rattles by when this man is speaking, he pauses, until it has passed, as if he called in his powers, lest he should expend the smallest degree more than what is exactly necessary. He is for economising the vital movement, and concentrates every thought and feeling within the orbit of I myself. Sometimes the victims on whom he preys, talk loud in his room, and get very high and angry ; and to that there succeeds an unbroken quiet ; as in a kitchen, where the pitiless cook is not to be turned from her purpose by the noisy clatter of a duck, who suffers — and all is once more still. Until seven o'clock in the evening, he is reserved and serious; but about eight o'clock he unbends from his business-like gra- vity, and the man of notes becomes a very ordinary personage, and not to be distinguished in a crowd from any other man. The change seems a mystery more secret than the transmuting of gold ; for, indeed, it is the transmuting of a heart of metal into one of flesh. Then he will sometimes rub his hands together, and has a mirthful style of his own, in a small way, with a cackling, hollow laugh, that can be seen by his mouth agape, but Avhich can be scarcely heard. But in his gayest FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 123 moments, his conversation is carried on in monosyllables, here a word, and there a word, for assent or dissent. He is my neighbor ; that is to say, he occupies a part of the house where I lodge. The house is gloomy and damp. It has neither yard-room nor court, and the rooms are only lighted from the street. The building is distributed like a cloister, into rooms of equal dimensions, tier above tier, each with only one door, which opens on a long and common corridor or hall, lighted by loop-hole windows. So repulsive is the aspect of the house that the volatility of a high spirited heir generally sobers down into something like dejection before he reaches the landing place of my fellow-lodger. Well do the house and he resemble each other — they are like the submarine rock, and the oyster which clings to it. His whole life is clandestine. The sole being with whom he holds communion, socially speaking, is myself Some- times he comes to my apartment to ask for a little fire, to borrow a book or a newspaper ; and of evenings, I am the only one permitted to enter his den, or to whom he will speak of his own accord. These marks of his confidence are the fruits of a seven years neighborhood. If he has any relatives or friends, I am ignorant of them; neither have I ever seen a penny in his posses- sion, but I know that he has an immense fortune in the vaults of the bank. But any how, he has sometimes been a martyr to his prudence; one day he chanced to have gold in his pocket, and a doubloon made its way out and fell on the stairs; a fellow-tenant, who was coming up at the same time, picked it up and handed it to him — " that dosn't belong to me !" said he, Avith a gesture of repulse and surprise ; " I never have gold — never have it about me, — nor in my house." He makes the cofiee for his own breakfast in a small boiler in the jamb, from which black corner of the hearth the utensil never stirs. His dinner is brought to him from a cook-shop. The old woman who attends to the door, at a fixed hour, regu- larly goes up stairs and arranges his room. Finally, by one of those chances which Sterne would call predestination, my fellow lodger, who so much interests me, is named Gobsech. If the social virtues are a religion, this man, thought I to 124 ^ FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. myself, must be pronounced an atheist recreant. To satisfy myself, concerning the mystery of his nature and pleasures, I determined to study him more closely, homo duplex, the man and his mind. I like facts better than systems. Instead, then, of being discursive in theory. I shall be brief in narrative. Last evening I paid a visit to this curious mortal, who has made gold his all in all. I found him seated in his easy chair, still and fixed as a statue, and his eyes rivetted on the mantel- piece, where he seemed to be reading tables of discounts. A hand lamp, smutty, smoky, with a foot that had once been lacker- ed green, cast a dull red glare on his bloodless complexion. He lifted his eyes, but spoke not ; however, as my chair was drawn out beside him, it was evident that I was expected and welcome. " Does this being," said I to myself, "ever think? Believes he in a Deity, Creator, and Preserver? Does he know what sensi- bility is ? Is woman dear to him ? Have emotions of pleasure ever fluttered or unfixed that rigid soul?" Thus did I pity him as an object, a sick man, a cripple. Still, I felt, that with a million in bank, he must luxuriate in a sense of power that was equal to possessing the whole world at a grasp. " Good day, Gaffer Gobsech !" said I to him. He turned his face towards me, and slightly drew together his broad, black eye-brows. This characteristic inflexion was equivalent to the gayest smile of one of warmer temperament. " You are as dull to-day," continued I, " as the time when they told you of the failure of the bookseller. Have you met any bad drafts to-day — this is the 31st, I think — " It was the first time I had ever spoken to him concerning money matters. He looked me full in the face ; and, with that soft, low-tuned voice, which does not ill resemble the irresolute breathings on the flute of a learner, he replied, " I was taking a little recreation." " What," cried I, " do you ever take recreation ?" He shrugged his shoulders, and gave me a look of pity, and scorn. " Do you think," said he, " that there are no persons of fancy and taste, except poets that print verses ?" FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 125 Verses in such a head ! thought I. He continued, " There is none whose lot is more animated and soul-stirring than mine. " Listen," said he. "By what I shall tell you of this morning's adventures you will be able to form an idea of my enjoyments." He then rose and bolted the door, and drew before it an old tapestry curtain, the rusty rings of which grated on the rod. He seated himself beside me, and began thus : " This morning I had only two bills to collect, because I had passed off all the others yesterday as cash to my customers. One of the notes was given me by a dashing young fellow who rode in a tilbury. It was signed by one of the handsomest ladies in , the wife of a great landholder and nobleman. It was drawn, to pay — I dont know what debt ; the amount w^as two hundred crowns. The other note was for the same sum, and drawn by a lady also, for it was signed Fanny . It came into my possession from a linen draper. The drawer of one note lived in square, and the other in street. Could you but know the romantic conjectures that filled my mind as I left my home this morning! What proud delight thrilled my bosom, as I foresaw, that if these two women were not ready, they would receive and treat me with as much respect as if I were their own father. What politenesses Lady would shower on me for the sake of two hundred crowns! She would stoop to address me with an affectionate air, she would speak to me in those soft and gentle tones which she reserves — perhaps for the endorser of the draft ; she would lavish upon me words of endearment, fond expressions ; entreat me even, and I " Here the old man, facing me, gave his countenance an expres- sion, freezingly obdurate and inexorable. " And I," he resumed, " not to be moved ! There I am — like any avenger, like conscience, Avhich is not to be put off! But let us have done Avith my reveries. By and by I reached the mansion of Lady . " A fernme de chambre answered me that her ladyship was sleeping. ' Is her ladyship sick ?' said I. ' No,' she replied, * but she did not return from the ball last night until three o'clock.' 126 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. " ' My name is Gobsech ; tell her my name, I shall be here at noon.' And I went my way, after leaving marks of my pre- sence on the sumptuous carpeting that covered the staircase. " When I reached street, I found at the number, a house of mean appearance. I pushed open the crazy gangway gate, and saw one of those dark court-yards to which the sun never penetrates. The porter's lodge was fairly black with age and neglect, and the window panes, like a rusty fustian sleeve, listed with greasy brown stripes. " I asked for Miss Fanny . *' ' She is out ; but if you come about a draft, the money is here.' ' I'll call again,' said I ; for when I found that the money was ready, I wanted to know a little more of the young lady ; I had made up my mind that she was young. I passed the morning in looking at the engravings displayed in the print shops, and as twelve o'clock struck, I was just crossing the anti- chamber of the bed -room of my Lady . *' ' Her ladyship has but just rung,' said the waiting-maid ; • I do not think she can be seen.' " ' I shall wait,' was my answer ; and I sat down on a gilded sofa. The blind-doors had scarcely been more than opened, w^hen the femme de chambre returned. ' Will you walk in, sir.' — There was that in the words and the tone, which assured me that the lady fell short. " But what a magnificent woman met my sight ! She had has- tily thrown over her bare shoulders a cashmere shawl, the folds of which she gathered round her with just that ravishing art that the beautiful proportions of her bust were distinctly mani- fest. A tasty morning-gown, white as snow, was her only dress. Her black tresses escaped, here and there in rich confusion, from underneath a choice Madras handkerchief, capriciously fastened round her head in the fashion of the Creoles. Her bed was a scene of picturesque disorder; and certainly her slumbers had been uneasy and agitated. The draperies were cast with most voluptuous and bewitching negligence, and her pillow lay in the midst of the eider-down quilt of blue silk, the splendid lace relieving admirably from the azure ground. A FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 127 painter would have paid a price to have stood where I did. On the large bear-skin, spread beneath the carved mahogany lion's claws of the bedstead, glittered two small slippers of white satin, thrown one here the other there, as weary feet will do, on returning from a ball. Over a chair lay a rumpled dress, the sleeves hanging to the floor. Spider-net stockings, such as the slightest breath of wind might carry away, were twisted about the leg of an easy chair, as if flung there from the hand ; and along a couch lay a pair of garters, artificial flowers, diamonds, gloves, a nosegay and belt, scattered confusedly. There was a delicate, a scarcely perceptible odor of aromatics in the air. A costly fan, half open, lay on the mantel ; the drawers of the bureau were open. This mingled luxury and carelessness, every thing rich and elegant, yet all displaced, impressed the mind with a sense of discomfort in the midst of wealth. The lassitude, betrayed by the countenance of her ladyship, was in keeping with the room thus strewed with the cast ofl' attire of the festival. Such unseasonable disorder excited my contempt; the same objects harmoniously assembled the evening previ- ously, might have raised in me some emotion. They seemed to tell of a heart that was burning with a passion that was blasted by conscience ; they showed as the image of a life of show, expense, and dissipation ; a tantalizing pursuit of unsub- stantial pleasures. There were some spots of unnatural redness on the face of the lady, that set ofl" the delicacy of her skin ; her features seemed swelled, and the brown circle around her dark eyes, rather heavy. But nevertheless, these indications of folly did not lessen her beauty, such was the energy of health and nature that seemed glowing in her whole frame. Her eyes sparkled; she reminded me of a Herodias, by Leonardo da Vinci — for I have been a picture-broker once. She was full of life and strength ; nothing meagre in the contour, or feeble or mean in the outline of her person, scanted the sense of admiration. Her appearance inspired love ; and yet there was a power developed in her brilliant and haughty consciousness of beauty, by no means akin to the fragility and delicacy that wins and wakes the tender passion. It was just the style to please 128 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. me ; and it was long since my heart had throbbed before ; th value of the note was already paid ; for I would give more thai two hundred crowns for a sensation that reminds me of the days of my youth. " ' Sir,' said she, as she handed me a chair, ' will you have the kindness to allow me time' •' ' Till to-morrow at noon, your ladyship ; I have not the right,' said I, as I folded up the note, 'to protest before the hour.' " Then I said within myself — pay for your luxury — pay for your rank — pay for your happiness — pay for the monopoly Avhich you enjoy. For wretches without bread, there are courts, judges, and executioners; but for you, who sleep on downy pillows canopied with silk, let there be the pangs of regret and the gnashing of the teeth hidden under a smile, and the cold clutch upon the heart of a concealed anguish. " ' A protest !' she exclaimed, ' do you intend that !' said she, looking at me with a Avild gaze; 'will you have so little con- sideration for me ?' " ' If the king, your ladyship, were in my debt, and did not pay me, I would make him take the benefit of the act.' " At that instant, there was a slight tap at the door of the room. • I am not within !' imperiously exclaimed the young wife. " ' Emily, I wish very much to see you,' said a voice outside, ' Not at present my dear,' she replied, in a tone less harsh, but still peremptory. " ' O, you are only jesting, for you are speaking to a stranger,' answered the voice, and the door was suddenly thrust open by a man who must have been her husband. Her ladyship gave me a look — I understood it ; she had made herself my slave. Ha ! ha ! there was a time once, when I was stupid enough not to protest. '" What is your business?' said the count to me. " I saw the lady shiver. The white and satiny skin of her neck became rough, or as we say in common parlance, like goose flesh. As for me, I laughed, without ever a muscle moving. FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 129 " • This person,' said she, ' is one of my tradesmen.' *' The noble gentleman straightway turned his back upon me, but I drew the note half way out of my pocket. At this pitiless motion the young lady stepped near to me, and offered me a diamond. ' Take it,' said she, ' and begone.' " We exchanged the two values, I made her bow and retired. The diamond was fully worth two hundred and forty crowns. I passed, in going out, two superb chariots that the lackeys were cleaning, and footmen brushing their liveries and polishing their boots. So, said I to myself, this is what brings these people to me, makes them steal and rob millions in a decent way, or else betray their country. That they may not make their shoe- soles dusty, they go over head and ears into the mud ! Just at that very moment the great gate was thrown open, and the young man who gave me the note, passed through in his stylish tilbury. As soon as he descended, I went to him and said, ' Here, sir, are forty crowns, which I would thank you to hand to her ladyship, and tell her that I shall keep at her disposal, for eight days, the pledge that she left in my hands this morning.' He took the forty crowns and a mocking smile stole over his countenance, as if he would have said, ' She has paid, has she, so much the better !' I read in that face the desolation of the countess. " I then went to street, to Miss Fanny . I had to ascend a very narrow stair-case, and when I reached the fifth story, I was introduced into an apartment, newly fitted up, where every thing wore an air of miraculous neatness. I could not detect a trace of dust on the simple furniture of the chamber, where I was received by Miss Fanny. She was young and city- bred ; her head youthful and elegant, with a becoming air of gentility and kindness ; her well combed chesnut hair w^as fast- ened in two bow^s on her temples, and shaded a pair of blue eyes clear as crystal. She was dressed plain. The light, falling through small white curtains, stretched across the window, threw a softened luster over her angelic face. She was unfolding pieces of linen, and the cuttings of linen over the floor, showed what were her usual occupations. She looked the very personi- 130 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. fication of solitude. When I handed her the note, I told her that she had not been at home when I first called. " ' But I left the money with the porter,' said she. " I pretended not to hear her. " ' You go out rather early, it seems,' said I. " ' I am away from home but rarely,' replied she, ' but work- ing so late at night, I am sometimes obliged, for my health, to go bathing.' " At a glance I understood her history. The daughter, doubt- less, of a family once rich, and obliged by adversity to labor for her subsistence. There was an indescribable air of virtue, of modesty, and native nobleness in her mien. Every thing around her partook of that character. It seemed that I was set down in the midst of an atmosphere of sincerity and candor, and could breath at my ease. I perceived in an alcove a simple couch of painted wood, surmounted by a crucifix, and then a branch of box. I felt affected, and wanted to leave the money she had just handed me, and the diamond of the countess ; but I thought the present would perhaps be doing her a harm ; and every thing considered, I thought it best to keep back both ; the more so, as the diamond is worth two hundred and fifty crowns for an actress or a bride. And then, as like as not, she too has some fellow of a cousin, who would wear the diamond as a breast-pin, and use up the two hundred and forty crowns in his own way. When you came in, I was just thinking what a good little wife Fanny would make for somebody. It will be a fortnight too, before I shall get that countess out of my head, and she has one foot, at least over the brink of perdition." "Well !" cried he, resuming the. thread of his reflections after a moment of deep silence, during which I had been watching his looks, " think you this is nothing to penetrate thus into the most secret folds of the human heart, and thus espouse the for- tunes of others, and see their lives exposed like a nudity to your searching eye ? It is a spectacle of multifarious shiftings ; ghastly wounds eating into life at the core ; silent, but death-dealing sor- rows ; or scenes of love ; or distresses, over which the waves of the river are waiting to close; or rapture^; of the youthful pulse FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. 131 that will end in the g-ibbet and the axe ; the insane laughter of despair ; the sumptuous and splendid revel ; a tragedy yester- day — a father of a family who suffocated himself with charcoal, because he could not get bread for his children ; to-morrow it will be some farce or other, some young- C r playing off the pranks of Pea Green Jacket, with variations. I have heard many brags of the force of parliamentary eloquence ; I have listened to one at least of those boasted orators — he never moved me ; but often has it happened, that a loving young girl, in the holy zeal of a plighted attachment ; an aged merchant on the brink of a failure ; a mother wishing to conceal the fault of a son ; a laborer famishing with hunger ; or a politician without principle, have made my soul reel and shudder with the potency of their language. They were sublime actors, and played for me alone. But I am not to be played upon. My eye is as keen as ubiquity ! I read the very heart. Nothing is hidden from me. What do I lack ? I have every thing that is wanted. No- thing is refused or denied to him who has the control of the purse strings, if there be enough in the purse for temptation. Ministers and their consciences can be bought — there's power for you ; accomplished and delicate women, ay, and their hearts too, can be bought — there's pleasure and beauty for you. In fact everything is on sale, and money can buy every thing. We are kings, without title, incognito, I grant you ; but the kings of life, for what is existence without money ? But, Avhile I have enjoyed every thing, I have become sated with every thing. There are thirty of us, such as I, in this city. A common inte- rest is the tie between us ; we meet weekly in a coffee-house in street, and form a sort of board of finance, where every mystery connected with the rise and fall of stocks, and interest, is divulged, and canvassed. There is no show of fortune that can blind us, we have a key to the secrets of every family, and we keep a sort of black book, in Avhich Ave minute down the most important items concerning public credit, bankers, and trade. We analyze the most indiiferent actions. We are the casuists of exchange. Like me, also, the rest care for power and money, not so much to exercise, as to possess them. 132 FEMALE BIOGRAPHY. " Here," continued he, pointing around to his cold, and narrow apartment, " here the fiery lover, who is jealous of a word, and draws his sword for a speech — here he begs with folded hands ; here begs the haughtiest merchant ; here begs the beauty, vainest of the vain ; here begs the fiercest soldier, the most famous ar- tist, the writer whose name is pledged to posterity and renown ; and here," added he, laying his hand on his forehead, " is the balance that weighs, not only in a few solitary cases, the things to come, but for every one, for all! — " Do you still think there are no recreations, no amusements to be enjoyed under that blank and dingy mask, whose unalter- able stillness has so often excited your surprise?" asked he, stretching his neck, and advancing nearer to me his pallid countenance, which smelt of silver. I returned to my room, stupified. In my fancy, the little withered, spindly old man, grew in dimensions, until he changed into a fantastic apparition — like the spirit of gold incarnate. The perfidies of life, and my fellow-men, weighed upon me with horror. Can it indeed, be true, that every thing thus resolves itself into money, money, money ?
