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Memoirs of Ophelia Troup Dent
Laurens County
August 6, 1902
The first Brailsford I know of was my great grandfather, Samuel
Brailsford. Whether he was born in this country or in
England
I do not know; he was a merchant living in
London
or
Liverpool
and doing business with the Colonies. He married his wife, Miss
Susan Holmes, in
Charleston
,
South Carolina
. Their English portraits, and that of his only son, my
grandfather William Brailsford, are still in existence. By
looking into the history of the Supreme Court of the United States you
will find its first case was "Samuel Brailsford versus James
Spalding," – a wealthy Scotch gentlemen of the McIntosh
clan in Georgia, a family with whom in the years to come the
closest of ties were formed, and friendships that have gone
down to the fourth generation.
My grandfather Brailsford grew
up in England, a gay young man, visiting
Paris, dressing in fine silks, laces, silk stockings and buckles,
the fashion of the day, which we have seen and masqueraded in.
He admired the silver forks in
Paris
so very much that when he had a family of children to bring up
properly in
Charleston
, he imported six small forks for their use, and saw to it that
they did use them. (My grandfather was very particular about
his children, they must all be straight! My mother as a child on the
plantation sprained her shoulder jumping out of a boat. In nursing
the sprain she was getting one shoulder higher than the other,
it was a source of constant reproof from her father. On their
return to Charleston Dr. Barron was sent for and found the
collar bone broken. She grew up as straight as an arrow. The
young people turned up their noses at eels. His rule was to
learn to eat everything,- so he ordered them cooked and served. The
cook did not know they were to be cut in pieces before cooking. When the
gruesome dish came on table it was ordered off at once and for
all.)(1)
A mercantile failure brought
the family from
England
to
Charleston
. It must
have been after the Revolution, from little incidents I have heard
related, - sympathy for Andre's family - distain for
Arnold
's. The family consisted of Samuel Brailsford, his wife Susan,
and three children, Susan, Elizabeth, and William my
grandfather. Susan was killed in a carriage accident in
New York
.
Elizabeth
never married, was a devotee to religion and feminine
friendships, living to eighty years* and leaving my mother her
sole heiress, in 1838 or 1839. (Her very old English Bible, in
long s's and calf skin binding, filled with devotional
thoughts, particularly the book of Psalms, written on the margin in
a beautiful English hand, was lost during the war in a warehouse at the
Satilla crossing. I tried to recover it, but was unsuccessful.)(2)
I do not know the date of my
grandfather William Brailsford's marriage to my
grandmother Maria Heyward; (she was born in 1772, and died in
1827.)(3) The Brailsford's came over from
England
after the Revolution. The first Heyward who settled in
South Carolina
was Thomas Heyward. To Daniel Heyward, his son, the Crown of
England granted a noble estate on the
Combahee
river, still cultivated by his descendants. Daniel Heyward's
two sons by his first wife were Thomas, signer of the Declaration
of Independence, and William. The children by his second wife,
Miss Gignillait (Huguenot), were Nathaniel, James, and Maria my
grandmother. This lady, Miss Gigniliait, must have been most
amiable and liberal, for at her death she left her young daughter, Maria,
to the care of her step-son William, though she had her two own brothers,
- to which trust he and his son William were as true as steel, under
trying circumstances. To this day my grandmother is spoken of, in that
branch of Heywards, as the only sister of her brothers, Nathaniel
and James. As far as I know, her inheritance was equal to
theirs. There was a third marriage, but the two children born
died young, and their property reverted to my grandmother and
her brothers. Thomas Heyward, the elder half-brother, was
educated in
England
; had just entered as barrister when the Revolution started. He
rushed home, threw himself into the strife, was in the first
Congress and one of the signers of the Declaration of
Independence. William Heyward had two beautiful daughters,
Hannah (Mrs. Trappair), and Maria (Mrs. Drayton of
Philadelphia
) , and one son, William, one of whose daughters was. Mrs.
Cutting of
New York
.
My grandmother's brother James
married an English woman, and died without
children. Between his widow and his brother Nathaniel, was a
compromise, honorably carried out, what she, Mrs. Heyward,
should keep her husband's property intact until her death, when
it would all go to Mr. Nathaniel Heyward, who had been his
brother's banker to the half of his fortune. This was the
decision of the courts. Both lived to over eighty years. Mrs. Heyward
married the second time, - Mr. Charles Baring. She died first, in 1848,
her Heyward estate passing over to Mr. Nathaniel Heyward. This
gentleman soon became the head of his family, in many ways besides his
great wealth. He owned near 3,000 colored people, with land to
utilize them. His settlements to his children were princely.
Three grandsons who were orphans were brought up as sons in his
house. He was a matchmaker, - his sons married Barnwells,
Blakes, and Shubricks; his daughters, Manigaults.
The Heywards are very
numerous; many are still rice planters; but their
wealth is of the past.
Plantation
management was one of their characteristics, which my
grandmother had, and, later, my sister Matilda Troup (your Aunt
"Maude") showed in such a wonderful way. Your father
comes under a new regime. I do not know the year of my grandmother's
marriage to my grandfather, but I know the youngest child was born
in 1800. The Brailsfords were highly educated, spirited and gay, spending
money lavishly, - a great contrast to the Heywards. Eight
children were born to them: - Samuel, killed in a duel in Charleston;
Elizabeth, married and died, and had no children; William, U.S.
Navy, died at Broadfield; Daniel Heyward, murdered on the stage
road twelve miles from Darien; Camilla, married to James Troup
1814, died at Baisden's Bluff September 9, 1847; Eugenia,
married and died in 1838 and left no children, and who married
John Bell and owned New Hope plantation. Daniel Heyward
Brailsford married Miss Jane Spalding. He left two children, one
of whom was our charming cousin, Sarah Brailsford, who married Richard
Lewis Morris in 1844 or 1845, and died leaving no children, in
Darien
December 24, 1850.
William married Julia Wardell
of
New York
, 1848. She died, leaving no children in 1858. William died in
Bryan
county, 1886. To go back to
Carolina
. - In 1800 much was said of the large bodies of land lying on
the
Altamaha
River
.
Butler
's Island and Hopeton were settled places, also
Broughton
Island
. Mr. Pinckney had visited the Spaldings at
Sapelo
Island
, on his return giving a glowing description of his visit. Mrs.
Spalding, he said, "was a woman who could grace a throne, or
make a dairy sweet." She was a wonderfully beautiful
woman, with true eloquence and lovely manners. Mr. Spalding was
a man of wealth and learning, with a valuable Library, and
building Italian palaces to live in. He was a great cotton
planter and the chief of the McIntosh clan, giving freely to those requiring
it with an unbounded hospitality.
[Part 2 of 5]
Memoirs of
Ophelia
Troup
Dent
Laurens
County
August 6, 1902
Gen. Henry Laurens received grants of land on
Broughton
Island
and Hofwyl, then known as
New Hope
. My grandfather Brailsford bought
Broughton
Island
from Gen. Laurens' heirs, the Ramsays of Charleston. There was
another heir also, as you will see. All the negroes who were of
the Hevward estate were moved out in 1802 or 1803, my
grandfather coming out with them and settling them. He was
courteously received by the surrounding residents and must have found
congenial friends on
St.
Simon
Island
, where he was kindly entertained. There must have been storms
to warn the people, for a barn had been built as a storm house,
and Broughton was exposed to the sea on the farthest point
back. Between the barn yard and the settlement flowed a broad,
deep canal, with a board-and-rail crossing. The order to the overseer
was, to move the people in flats across the canal to the barn at the
first approach of a storm.
My grandfather returned to
Charleston
for the summer. All went well until September, when a hurricane swept that
part of the coast. Some say the overseer was drunk; certainly
when the move was ordered it was too late! One flat load of
over 70 men, women and children, was started - they were never seen
again, and only heard of by their shrieks through the dismal howling of
the wind. The remainder survived. How this appalling news was
carried to
Charleston
I do not know; it may have been by an express messenger by land.
Fifty years after, my sister and I were dining at Miss Lynch
Bowman's on
Sullivan
Island
and were asked if the following anecdote of my grandfather was
true? - viz.: "The news of the disaster reached my grandfather on
the eve of a dinner party. He received and entertained his
guests, and no one at the table knew of the tragedy until the
next day." I do not think the family were included in this
withholding, - it may have been a gentlemen's dinner. I
remembered the circumstance, my sister did not; but the direst distress
prevailed in the home. The
Charleston
life was at an end, and the family, except the eldest son
Samuel, moved to
Broughton
Island
as soon as a rough house, put up by plantation carpenters,
could be built. My grandfather, with his eldest daughter
Elizabeth, went ahead of the family and were entertained by
Major Butler on St. Simon until it was safe to stay at Broughton. The
advent of the Brailsford family - young, with high spirits - was the
first event that lifted their people out of their despondency,
my mother often said. The effects of the storm swelled the loss
of life to 100. No one knew better than they did how to keep up
the spirit and loyalty of their people, and to take care of
them. To my mother
Broughton
Island
always stood for
Golgotha
. Of course, with no crops, there were no possible payments. The
largest creditor was indignant; he retracted the sale; my
grandfather accepted instantly, and held him to it. The other
heirs were wiser and held on, - Miss Eleanor Ramsay for one, I
know, receiving interest on $9,000 for fifty years, when the
debt was paid by my father's executors .
Opposite Broughton lay
Broadfield, wooded from one end to the other, and
unowned but by the State, - called "Broadface" on
surveyors' maps. How possession was given and taken I do not
know, you can look it up in Statemrecords. But the first tree
felled was by the Brailsfords, and the first bank from the
"hollow-over" was a succession of cut trees, on which the
Brailsford's walked to and fro while the clearing of land and the
building of houses went on. They were a gay-spirited set and
took up the gauntlet quickly, without throwing it down. They
had broad faces and insisted on changing the name from "Broadface"
to "Broadfield." This is how Broadfield came into my
family. My grandmother has walked some of the banks or the foundations
that your father walks on today, - the fourth generation – and all
have loved it. I do not know what time they moved over, but
Elizabeth Brailsford, my aunt, was married at Broughton to
Major Wood, a Virginia gentleman and rice planter. He owned
Potosi
Island
. She lived only a year and died in McIntosh county, leaving no
children. At the same time, in
Charleston
, my uncle, Samuel Brailsford, was killed in a duel with John
Parker. They were attentive to the same lady. My uncle was
engaged to her, and she was his cousin, Anne Glover. Your
fathers grandmother Dent, who knew the Parkers, said his life
had been made gloomy and misanthropic by the tragedy. He married
another lady. All those events and dates are in the Brailsford
Bible, which Aunt Mary Troup has, rebound by Aunt Maude.
As a rule great misfortunes
follow great moves, - acclimating is full of
vicissitudes. Until a house was built on the north point of
Cumberland island the family summered in
Charleston
or in McIntosh county. How did they go to
Charleston
? In an eight-oared row boat, with a small cabin. During one of
these absences my grandfather Brailsford died on St. Simon and was buried
at Cannon's Point. He left my mother, a girl of 12 or 14, to his friend
Mr. Bailly, a Scotch gentleman and widower and, I think, a university
man, celebrated for his wit and sarcasm. He spent his winters at
Hofwyl, then a part of
New Hope
.
In my grandmother's service
was a manservant named
Frederick
. He was not a
house servant, his work was outside. He was honest and truthful, a
good Waterman, with devoted allegiance. After the death of my
grandfather he was the captain of every boat journey that was
ever made, and always in attendance on my grandmother, whose
sons were absent, one at
Cambridge
, the other in the United States Navy.
Frederick
's judgment on wind and tide was unerring. On one of the trips
to
Cumberland
my grandmother found the keys had been left at Broadfield.
Frederick said he would go for them in his paddling canoe and
be back the second morning from the day he started, crossing
and recrossing St. Andrew sound two hours before day, which he did.
As I remember him, he was our fisherman at Baisden's Bluff, with a
big boy to wait on him, and we always had on our table the best
the river could give. His winters were spent at Broadfield.
When my grandmother died in 1837 he came over to
Darien
(our home) to take his last look of his mistress; he kissed her
feet, while the tears ran down his cheeks. He died a short time before
my mother, in 1847.
My grandmother, left a widow
with an estate heavily in debt, found a
priceless friend in her half-brother, William Heyward, and, after
his death, his son William. With the latter she had a most
tender meeting in
New York
in 1836, also with many of her near relatives, at the American
Hotel, the one of its day. She died six months after, - I
think, 63 years old, which would make her birth year 1772.
During the brave struggle to pay her debts and save her property the
winters were spent at Broadfield and the summers at Cumberland,
twelve miles from
Dungeness, the home of Mrs. Shaw, General Nathaniel Greene's
daughter. Only formal visits were exchanged. I presume my
mother was too young, and my grandmother too grave for anything
more.
[Part 3 of 5]
Memoirs of
Ophelia
Troup
Dent
Laurens
County
August 6, 1902
In 1877 on a visit to
Cumberland
I asked our host if anyone remembered the
Brailsford Place
? He said he knew it, and his mother, still living, knew the family.
She came over to see us, dressed in white, an old lady. She knew them
all by name and had kept up with their marriages and deaths, but the
number of servants seemed to have held bar. My
grandmother's butler, named "Jeems" (
South Carolina
) , was celebrated, one trick was for the way he could open and
throw a long tablecloth from one end of a dinner table to the
other without a fold. Nothing put into his care was ever known
to be lost. I never knew him, but two of her women-servants I
remember; one, a small brown woman who nursed all the babies
born in our house for a month. She had the care of the old Broadfield
House (not the work), which was occupied off and on by my father and
uncles, our headquarters being
Darien
. She was called "My Little Aunt" by our servants;
but the big brown woman, who ruled our yard with a rod, was called "My
Big Aunt." We children, and everyone else I knew, except my father
and mother, called her "Mom Betty." She carried the
keys when my mother was confined to her room, and in the spring
made us sassafras beer, as in
Charleston
. She was the most scornful woman, black or white, I ever knew.
She took care of the
Darien
house in the summer. She lived to a great age and died at
Broadfield during the war.
Except in
Charleston
, my mother never went to school; her education was carried on by Mr. Baillie, before
alluded to. His home at Hofwyl was only a ten minutes' walk to
Broadfield. He was her constant friend and adviser. My mother's
peculiar case and leadership in gentleman's society was, I think, intensified
by his training. Her brothers nursed the gayety which was inherent.
Mr. Baillie was a widower, - society said he would end in a lover. But
it was not so; he introduced my father to my mother, my father having
settled in
Darien
from
Savannah
as a physician. Mr. Baillie did everything to further the
match. He was an honored guest in their home, and was loved and
esteemed by both to the end of his life in 1836.
On the high ground of
Broadfield cotton was planted. It brought a high
price, and later on, during the embargo of 1812, both rice and
cotton commanded high prices. The risks of shipping, of course,
were great. During all these years, my mother, Camilla
Brailsford, by the winsomeness of her ways, her high courage
and fine judgment, was more than a right hand to her mother.
She conquered and rooted out evils, made right triumphant, and by
her judicious devotion to their black people gave them a loyalty and
contentedness to be proud of. Her undeviating love and reverence for
her mother made a tie so strong it could never be broken. When
my grandmother divided her property she only took, by
Georgia
law, a child's portion, and lived with my mother, who taught us
all to call my grandmother "Mother," telling us she
was our best friend. She was "Missis," - my mother
was always called by the servants "Miss Jane;" "Camilla"
was too fine for them, except her own immediate servants. After my grandmother's
death, she was "Missis."
One little episode in my
mother's girl life was the taking a child. In the
newness of their experience a young overseer and his family died of
fever, leaving one little tot, called ''Jane," they
thinking Jane was her name. She took the child and kept her
until she had children of her own, when some of the child's
relatives in
Virginia
wrote for her, and after investigation she was sent to them.
While a girl, her mother gave her a light colored boy named Jack, to
be her page. He brought her notes on a silver waiter and her
pocket handkerchief when she dropped it. He grew into a most
accomplished butler and manservant, - from the cutting out of a
fish hook to making a mustard plaster;
his table service left nothing to wish for. He was a sportsman at heart,
having dogs and gun, loved fishing, and after the death of my father
and mother Jack left us to his son James whom he had trained, and
had his liberty.
The War of 1812 coming on,
Cumberland
was thought by my grandmother too gay for her daughter - from our own
soldiers - and too exposed to Admiral (Cochran's) fleet. Major
Wood put at her disposal his summer home on "The Ridge"
near
Darien
. There my mother was married to my father, Dr. James Troup,
1813, by Dr. McWhir, an Irish Presbyterian clergyman, who had been a
tutor in General Washington's family a short time. He was a man of
firey temper, the terror of school children and examinations.
He claimed the hospitality of all the couples he married. One
shy young bride started for a seat before the irrevocable words
were spoken. The "Rev. Father," as he was called,
followed, took her by the arm and put her in place, saying: "Young
woman, you are not married yet." (One of the anecdotes
told of him was after his marriage to a very nice lady with
some means. They had some girls boarding with them to go to school. In
a candy boiling one of the girls burned her hand, and screamed out:
"It is hotter than hell." The Rev. Father hearing It,
ordered her to her room, to stay until she could bound the
place she knew so well. She was clever, and, being familiar
with surroundings, located Mrs. McWhir's plantation as hell, and
her neighbors on the north, south, east and west.)(4)
My mother's marriage must have
been in 1813 or 1814. The coast was attacked
by English fleets, the outlying islands all visited, and the negroes
carried off when it suited them.
Darien
was under arms; my father was Surgeon. My mother and
grandmother were sent to a friend's house (General McCall, I think)
in the interior of the state, sorely against my mother's will. All the
Broadfield negroes were sent up to my uncle Robert Troup's plantation in
Montgomery
county. Broadfield was visited, the house broken into and robbed,
a lively young fellow going off with them. The second visit
"Will" came back, in gay uniform. His old
fellow-servants tried to shame him, but Will was not to be
downed and returned with his new friends to their boats.
Mr.
Thomas Spalding of Sapelo, with his large family and great
possessions in land and negroes, never left the island, the
British fleet being in the sound. They were never molested.
In an illness in Mr. Spalding's family my father was sent for in a
row boat to
Darien
. He was overhauled and taken on one of the fleet . While on deck he
recognized a small vessel from Broadfield, with rice, trying to run the
blockade to
Florida
. He waived them back with his handkerchief; it was not noticed,
neither was he detained. Major Wood, a friend, who was with him for
his own pleasure, pled with my father to call him "Mr.
Wood" for his safety. For a little while he remembered,
but soon the "Major" was spoken, and instantly
withdrawn, not before the officers were on the alert, thinking they
had a prize. The doctor could go, but Mr. Wood could not. After some
expostulation both were allowed to proceed.
Now I will introduce my
father, - and if I can not write as much of his side
of the house as of my mother's side It is not my fault. The
Troups, to whom I belong, were too reserved and silent to give traditions.
Their sisters died in childhood. They had lived in many places, shown
by the birth places of the children. My grandfather, George Troup, came
out from
England
as bookkeeper to , Mackay & Spaulding on
St.
Simon
Island
. The firm had large trading posts in
Georgia
and
Alabama
, and as he was sent from one to the other it is easy to see
how he was thrown with Catherine McIntosh, whom he married in
London
,
England
. I will give you, on another page, their record. My mother
tried to glean items from their relatives in McIntosh county
and from their friends in
Savannah
, where they last lived.
[Part 4 of 5]
Memoirs of Ophelia Troup Dent
Laurens County
August 6, 1902
The Troups as well as the McIntoshes were Stuart adherents, and
losing all in the wars and risings the Troups went into the
mercantile life in London. Many of the Mclntoshes came to
Georgia
, with money and servants, - quite a clan. My
grandfather Troup's family lived for some years at
Belleville
, a lovely point of land on the water across from Sutherland's
Bluff. There their boys had their guns, dogs and horses, and
were always sportsmen. My grandfather Troup died on March 26,
in
Liberty
county,
Georgia
. After my grandfather Troup's death, my grandmother moved to
Savannah
. She was a fine woman. Her manners were her great attraction.
In receiving and entertaining it was said each guest, from the
eldest to the youngest, thought he or she had received most
attention. When her three sons were old enough she sent them to
a school of note at Flushing,
Long Island
. From there my uncle, George M, Troup, went to
Princeton
,
New Jersey
, and led a party for Thomas Jefferson. Uncle Robert went to
New York
to study mercantile life, which he never followed, becoming a
prosperous cotton planter in
Montgomery
county.
My father went to
Philadelphia
to study medicine under Dr. Rush. The three brothers were a model of devotion to
each other and to their mother. Uncle George never married
until his mother died. He nursed her tenderly through her last
illness. He also had the care of his brothers and their
embarrassed estate, paying the debts and dividing the inheritance. My
grandmother died in
Savannah
and was put in her cousin's vault, General Lachlan McIntosh.
The vault was repaired after 1865 by Mr. Charles Spalding and
Mr. Bayard. After a succession of storms, when the old cemetery was
changed into
Colonial
Park
, all that was left in the vault (little or nothing, I believe)
was interred. A great grandson of General McIntosh, from
Chicago
, put up a granite monument to General Lachlan McIntosh and a low,
handsome iron railing round the enclosure.
On my father's graduating at
Philadelphia and returning to Savannah, his
friend Dr. James Ewell (a man remarkable for his skill and charming
manners) asked Col. Troup as he was then called, and it some
authority to give my father a position in the Savannah
hospital, which they were then preparing for war in 1812. But
the Colonel said "lie did not hold office to enrich hisfamily."
So my father was advised to go to
Darien
, then a promising town andone of two of the largest cotton ports in
Georgia
(St. Mary was the other), a fine trade with the
West Indies
, and the country in large rice and cotton plantations. His
relatives the "Mallow" Mclntoshes were there, and Mr. Thomas
Spalding a cousin; but the friendship quite eclipsed the cousinship,
lasting through generations and cemented by marriage. Sarah
Morris, nee Brailsford, our cousin, was a charming emanation of Spalding
and Brailsford. Capt. Charles Wylly is of the third generation, and
your father of the fourth.
In
Darien
my father, James Troup, met his fate and fortune (a very good one) in my mother, Camilla Brailsford. She
was "comme il faut" in appearance and manners, high
courage and spirit, with all the Brailsford gayety, cheerfulness
and sense of humor, fine administrative ability, a beautiful housekeeper
from the garret to the cellar and provider, and all for the comfort
of her family. My aunt Mrs. Daniel H. Brailsford has told me that when
her husband came from college, before he married her and lived at my
mother's, the home evenings, owing to the presence of those two
genial spirits, were simply delightful, my grandfather and
grandmother enjoying it quietly. Their first home, at
Cathead,
Darien
, was very simple. My father was an excellent physician, with
all the practice he could attend to, that of the Spalding
family alone furnishing a small income. My mother called those her "monied
days." (My father was too reserved and silent for the abandonment
of love of children, but we all grew up with high appreciation
of what he was - To be left a fair name and a goodly
heritage/Are good things.)(5)
In 1824 my father began
building his beautiful tabby house, with the same
architect, Jay, who had put up the old Habersham and Owens houses in
Savannah
. I was the first child born in this house. As soon as
Uncle George paid the debts of the Troup estate he divided with his
two brothers. My father, not wishing to put his negroes on rice fields,
bought a fine tract of land known as the "Court House" on
the old stage road, planted cotton and corn, and kept cattle.
The marsh lands bordering on Sapelo creek, the lowlands and
canebrakes, kept cows and sheep in very fine order. The dairy
was large enough to oversupply a large family in summer and
feed all the negro children with clabber and buttermilk. The quality of
the butter was not equal to our neighbors', but found ready
purchasers in
Darien
by "Mom Betty." The increase of negroes under these
circumstances was almost phenomenal. In my memory 100 bales of
cotton were shipped yearly. An overseer was in charge. In
winter my father spent every Saturday there, but in summer it
was his (custom to take a) daily ride on horseback, except on Monday
and Tuesday, when he visited Broadfield. His summer home was always
at Baisden's Bluff, - on a river widening as it took its course to
Sapelo sound. His first house was on a bluff 20 feet high, with
the channel on the bluff side, very dangerous to children. But
the old "tabby" academy building which was converted
into a dwelling in 1838 was on a lower bluff, with a natural
terrace and a roadway on which a cart could drive up and down, with
the marsh grass salt that the horses loved and ate; with the channel
on the other side, giving every facility for crabbing and
bathing, sailing and boating, and catching every breeze that
blew. This was our summer home until 1856, seven years after my
father's death.
There were two remarkable
springs, - one, the "Dripping Spring," down a
natural grotto, where the water dripped from a rocky formation 12 or
15 feet above in a not large opening. It was not deep, but
clear and cool, and no pole ever tried reached the depth of it.
It ran into the river, but only real storms ever brought the
salt water up to make it brackish. The grotto was so dark no
young servant would ever go alone after dark for water. This was
on our lot. The "Sulphur Spring" was a short walk
above or below the bluff, where every high tide in the 24 hours
covered it, but two minutes after the tide left it was fresh, cold and
clear as crystal, with a strong taste of sulphur, and very
light. It did not mix well with liquors, but made beautiful bread.
The Dunwodys lived here for
years, the ages of the children tallying with
ours. But on her father building her a spacious house at
Brighton
, Mrs. Dunwody moved there and we lost our neighbor. In my time
this Sulphur Spring had only a dug-out cypress log, with a
leather hung at the spout. With a change of name from Baisden's
Bluff to "Crescent," it may have been given more
adorning.
The Dripping Spring was hurt
while we lived there from a great excess of
rain finding its vent above the spring. On the opposite side was an
excavation 400 or 500 yards long and 20 feet deep, made by a planter
closing a ditch and not mentioning it.
My father had been left
executor to his aunt Mrs. McIntosh's estate at
Mallow. One of his cousins, Anne McIntosh, had never married; her
lands were near his, and always under his immediate care. I
doubt if she knew anything but what the factors' accounts told
her, and occasional short visits. She spent her winters at the
south with her relatives, and her summers at the north where
she had very nice friends. She had a wonderfully nice, light
colored maid called Fanny, who went back and forth with her in
the most faithful manner. She left her free with my father as
guardian at her death, and Fanny established herself in
Savannah
. She, Anne McIntosh, still made my father executor to her
will, and her negroes were to choose their master. An old
African among them, named Ned, advised them to remain where
they were, - "it was better to belong to a rich man, who
never followed you up too close." But they all had to go to the
courthouse in
Darien
to say who they chose. Of course these people were bought; one
man, a carpenter, followed his wife.
On the other side of the
Altamaha, in Glynn county, very much the same
circumstances threw the Brailsford estate into my father's hands,
including
New Hope
. My mother's wishes, his own pride and the clamor of the negroes,
that they should not be separated (they were all of Mr. Daniel
Heyward's estate, my grandmother's father), brought about this.
Poor old Rachael, when she would say "I'm an estate-woman
or servant," it meant to her a patent of nobility.
My uncle Daniel Heyward
Brailsford left his portion of Broadfield property
involved. His widow, my aunt Mrs. Brailsford, preferred keeping her
cotton plantation, Sutherland's Bluff, where her home was,
intact, and letting the Broadfield property be sold, in 1834.
My father had no alternative but to buy.
[Part 5 of 5]
Memoirs of Ophelia Troup Dent
Laurens County
August 6, 1902
In 1837 the
Brunswick
Canal
was begun, when
Brunswick
had its first boom, - very much a
Boston
speculation. My father hired his people for three years, at
$10,000 a year, with the restriction of his own overseer and his own
visits when required. Broadfield became pasture and the cattle
rolling fat; there were many fine marsh tackys amongst them
with good blood. My father said this saved him, for the three
canal years were not good rice years, and this money reduced
his debts.
Mrs. Bell (Eugenia Brailsford,
my mother's sister) and her husband dying
without heirs, and Mr. Bell leaving it to his family,
New Hope
and its people were thrown on the market. Biddle's Bank, in
Philadelphia
, had failed, and the country was passing through a monied
crisis, rice selling as low as 40 cents (a bushel). This
purchase was put off as long as possible, but eventually
New Hope
was bought at $26,000. Later, the negroes were ordered to
Brunswick
to be sold. Then came great lamentation all round. My father
went with them, and, finding they were to be picked and chosen, he bought
them. The return trip made the woods ring with: "We've won the
day!" - "We are going home!" This was in the early
40's. Failures were on every side. Nothing but my father's high
integrity, singleness and simplicity of purpose, with the
strictest economy at home (for the crops were not large),
enabled him to pull through. But at his death, in 1849, the
debts were close on to $80,000, and the estate was thought
again insolvent, as in my grandmother's time.
Before I go further I will
give the record of my father and mother's family,
as well as I can remember. Their family Bible Minnie Nightingale has
through her father, but there was no record in it, - the one in
it I wrote, before giving it to her. Of the dates I am very
uncertain, but not of the names of my brothers and sisters. Our
winter home was Darien, until in the '40's, when, from the
discomfort of a flat roof that would leak, the downfall of Darien
as a great cotton port, and for the great advantage to the plantation,
we moved over, living first at New Hope, in a small house requiring
a bachelor's hall for my brother Brailsford and his friends situated
near the dairy, where an old chimney stood.
Our home life was thought a very happy one. We were all united in
the worship of our mother, with whom the sun rose and, in her
dying, set. I often wished your father could have known her, -
he would have loved her dearly, as he did his grandmother Dent.
They were both far above the average, with a generous love and
high ideals. Our first cousins,
Florida
and Oralie Troup, Sarah and William Brailsford, were our
constant companions. Our Troup cousins lived with us for years. Cousin
Florida
was married at my father's house in
Darien
in 1835 to Thomas Bryan, afterward Forman, his grandfather's
name. Their descendants are the Robert Waylores and Holmer
Conrads of Virginia.
Our aunt, Mrs. Brailsford's
home, and servants, were like our own to us.
For years our winters were spent a hundred yards from each other;
our, summers, in exchange of visits. We had our share of
beauty, too. Cousin Oralie was like a queen in hers, and her
manners were graceful and elegant. Sarah Brailsford, as I wrote
before, was charming in all ways, with great vivacity and
spirit. My sister Hannah was lovely and refined in person and manners;
she could never have roughed it, yet was ready for any sacrifice for
the good of those she loved or for children, - so cheerfully and gently,
you would never know the truth until after reflection.
My sister Matilda Brailsford
Troup, your "Aunt Maude," became the head of
the house at our mother's death, and if she ever failed or fell
short in her great responsibilities we never knew it, - few
were not satisfied with the, content and pleasures of her
house. She had the wholesome tongue, which is a tree of life.
After the ruin of the Civil War she came still more to the front,
saving from the wreck what she thought most valuable, ever ministering
to the needs of those whom God gave her. She educated Uncle,Sidney,
who I think loved the ground she trod on. During his four years in
Winchester
,
Virginia
, Georgia Conrad took her place, making him think
Virginia
was as much his home as
Georgia
. They were his blissful days, - both women were in his heart.
Aunt Clelia, always called
"Nina" by her nephews and nieces, was of high
spirit and courage, with presence of mind, gay, joyous, happy and
independent, giving and receiving, loving youth and children. Her
real life, to which she was born and for which she was reared,
ended with the war. She gave you many blissful days in your
early childhood at Broadfield, which you cannot remember. Her
one child, Frank Key, is in the United States Army in the
Philippines
.
Your father's grandmother,
Elizabeth Anne Dent, widow of Captain John
Herbert Dent, U.S. Navy, and daughter of Jonas Horry (Huguenot) ,
sold her plantation, called "Fenwick," in South
Carolina, and moved to Georgia in1844, having bought the Cedar Hill
plantation on the Altamaha river near Darien. The first Horry
mentioned was stabbed to death in the massacre of St.
Bartholomew, his son escaping to
America
. Elizabeth Anne Horry was most carefully educated by French
abbes driven to
Charleston
by the French Revolution. She was highly accomplished, with
charming manners and appearance. Her father thought she should
be the wife of an ambassador, but she fell in love with a naval
officer. In "Memoirs of Washington Irving" by his
nephew, in one of his letters you will see his meeting with Mrs. Dent,
introduced by Captain Dent, in whose
United States
vessel he had come from the
Mediterranean
. Your great grandfather Captain Dent distinguished himself,in
the Tripoli War and was presented with a sword by Congress, which sword
he lent the great tragedian of the day, Cooper, to play Othello;
sailor-fashion, he did not recall it until too late, - in the
various vicissitudes of an actor's life it was lost.
Your grandfather, George
Columbus Dent, and I were married in the old Broadfield house on the 22nd of
November 1847 by the Rev. T. Longfellow Smith. The
first eight years of our married life were passed at Cedar Hill, near
Darien
, (the winters, I mean), with your father's grandmother Dent, whose
plantation your grandfather managed. At her death, in 1856, the
division of her estate and the Troup estate occurring the same
year, we moved over to Broadfield and Hofwyl was settled, your
grandfather calling it after the then great Hofwyl school in
Switzerland
- (Professor Fredenberg) - where he had been educated. From all
I hear, it does not stand as it did. The house at Hofwyl was
not finished when our Civil War broke out and we left, for four
years living in Ware county near
Waycross
, a miserable wiregrass country. Before we returned the
extinguishing cap of defeat was on our heads, our pleasant
things were all gone, and strangers in our homes.
Large tracts of valuable lands
passed away for taxes, it was not surprising
that in many instances two generations passed away in this wreck and
ruin. I must close now. Your father can answer your questions;
if not, Captain Wylly may. You can rearrange these crude pages
to suit yourself - the notes you can use of as you think best -
it is only an old woman's recollections, at the request of her
grandson. To you and yours and to all who have gone
before you - Pax vobiseum -
Parsonage - June 23, 1904
(6) My sister Clelia had all the instincts of a sportsman, following
my father with his dog and gun, keen at crabbing and fishing,
going about with bare model feet and ankles, catching, out of
the deep holes of mud and water left by the receding, tide,
many soft-shell crabs, which we did not know until later were
the same delicacy as the Maryland soft-shell crab. She ran a
fish-hook into her hand while fishing, and came home holding her hand.
There was great distress in the house, for my father was away and a
doctor twelve miles off. But Jack, the above mentioned butler,
assured our mother, who was in tears, that he could cut it out
with his sharpened razor – which he did. Jack had a
fine cur named Sharper. In some way he bit severely my dear little
sister Hannah. Jack, who brought her into the house, said: "Master,
shall I kill the dog?" "Certainly not," answered my
father, "the dog is not mad; he was protecting what he
thought was yours." But my little sister was on her back
several days.
All these little episodes were
at Baisden's Bluff, a paradise for children.
As children, Nina and I, with Cousin Oralie Troup, went down the
bluff and finding a large rice flat, tied at one end to the
landing, the other end in deep water, and a high spring tide,
we three stepped aboard. Nina must have thrown a line, and fell
over on the outside end. The third time she rose Cousin Oralie
was able to stretch out her hand, catch and draw her in. It was
a narrow escape. Nina said her one fear was, being sucked under theflat,
and she tried to keep off. She had been a beautiful child. She
was always handsome, but not what her childhood promised. But
in later life, with her marvelous suit of white hair, a great
deal of it returned. Her hair had been black, fine, soft and curly;
no scissors had ever been put into it. Her role was social life, but
nher religious life ran through it, widening to the end. Her
sympathies were immediate, and also she was a generous help in
word or deed.
Our brothers Brailsford and
Robert were devoted sons and brothers. They were
brave, honorable men, good physicians, planters and masters. Their
work ended with the war. My brother Brailsford was left
executor with Mr. James Hamilton Couper of my fathers estate at
the age of 23 years, one year after his graduation, to an
almost insolvent property. In five or six years the debts were
paid; the heirs lived generously and got whatever they asked for, even
a European trip (not such a common thing as it is now) , and we were
all united.
My brother Robert served with
honor through the war as Captain - always an
aid(e) - in Virginia and Georgia, also South.
Carolina
. His war record and your grandfather Dent's, are in the Abbey
at
Richmond
. Your father can give you the best account. If you
wish to have a general idea of your grandfather Dent, read the seventh
chapter of "The End of an Era" - John Wise - "My
Brother." You must take poetical license, and the
knowledge that many facts, traits and circumstances were just
the contrary; but the general impression of sensation, gayety,
charm, accomplishments, grace and beauty and attractiveness,
are well described.
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