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VI。 SOME OLD PORTSMOUTH PROFILES
I DOUBT if any New England town ever turned out so many eccentric characters as Portsmouth。 From 1640 down to about 1848 there must have been something in the air of the place that generated eccentricity。 In another chapter I shall explain why the conditions have not been favorable to the development of individual singularity during the latter half of the present century。 It is easier to do that than fully to account for the numerous queer human types which have existed from time to time previous to that period。
In recently turning over the pages of Mr。 Brewster's entertaining collection of Portsmouth sketches； I have been struck by the number and variety of the odd men and women who appear incidentally on the scene。 They are； in the author's intention； secondary figures in the background of his landscape； but they stand very much in the foreground of one's memory after the book is laid aside。 One finds one's self thinking quite as often of that squalid old hut…dweller up by Sagamore Creek as of General Washington； who visited the town in 1789。 Conservatism and respectability have their values； certainly； but has not the unconventional its values also？ If we render unto that old hut…dweller the things which are that old hut…dweller's； we must concede him his picturesqueness。 He was dirty； and he was not respectable； but he is picturesquenow that he is dead。
If the reader has five or ten minutes to waste； I invite him to glance at a few old profiles of persons who； however substantial they once were； are now leading a life of mere outlines。 I would like to give them a less faded expression； but the past is very chary of yielding up anything more than its shadows。
The first who presents himself is the ruminative hermit already mentioneda species of uninspired Thoreau。 His name was Benjamin Lear。 So far as his craziness went； he might have been a lineal descendant of that ancient king of Britain who figures on Shakespeare's page。 Family dissensions made a recluse of King Lear； but in the case of Benjamin there were no mitigating circumstances。 He had no family to trouble him； and his realm remained undivided。 He owned an excellent farm on the south side of Sagamore Creek； a little to the west of the bridge； and might have lived at ease； if personal comfort had not been distasteful to him。 Personal comfort entered into no part of Lear's。 To be alone filled the little pint…measure of his desire。 He ensconced himself in a wretched shanty； and barred the door； figuratively； against all the world。 Wealthwhat would have been wealth to himlay within his reach； but he thrust it aside； he disdained luxury as he disdained idleness； and made no compromise with convention。 When a man cuts himself absolutely adrift from custom； what an astonishingly light spar floats him！ How few his wants are； after all！ Lear was of a cheerful disposition； and seems to have been wholly inoffensiveat a distance。 He fabricated his own clothes； and subsisted chiefly on milk and potatoes； the product of his realm。 He needed nothing but an island to be a Robinson Crusoe。 At rare intervals he flitted like a frost…bitten apparition through the main street of Portsmouth； which he always designated as 〃the Bank；〃 a name that had become obsolete fifty or a hundred years before。 Thus； for nearly a quarter of a century； Benjamin Lear stood aloof from human intercourse。 In his old age some of the neighbors offered him shelter during the tempestuous winter months； but he would have none of ithe defied wind and weather。 There he lay in his dilapidated hovel in his last illness； refusing to allow any one to remain with him overnightand the mercury four degrees below zero。 Lear was born in 1720； and vegetated eighty…two years。
I take it that Timothy Winn； of whom we have only a glimpse； would like to have more； was a person better worth knowing。 His name reads like the title of some old…fashioned novel〃Timothy Winn； or the Memoirs of a Bashful Gentleman。〃 He came to Portsmouth from Woburn at the close of the last century； and set up in the old museum…building on Mulberry Street what was called 〃a piece goods store。〃 He was the third Timothy in his monotonous family； and in order to differentiate himself he inscribed on the sign over his shop door； 〃Timothy Winn； 3d；〃 and was ever after called 〃Three…Penny Winn。〃 That he enjoyed the pleasantry； and clung to his sign； goes to show that he was a person who would ripen on further acquaintance； were further acquaintance now practicable。 His next…door neighbor； Mr。 Leonard Serat； who kept a modest tailoring establishment； also tantalizes us a little with a dim intimation of originality。 He plainly was without literary prejudices； for on one face of his swinging sign was painted the word Taylor； and on the other Tailor。 This may have been a delicate concession to that part of the communitythe greater part； probablywhich would have spelled it with a y。
The building in which Messrs。 Winn and Serat had their shops was the property of Nicholas Rousselet； a French gentleman of Demerara； the story of whose unconventional courtship of Miss Catherine Moffatt is pretty enough to bear retelling； and entitles him to a place in our limited collection of etchings。 M。 Rousselet had doubtless already mad excursions into the pays de tendre； and given Miss Catherine previous notice of the state of his heart； but it was not until one day during the hour of service at the Episcopal church that he brought matters to a crisis by handing to Miss Moffatt a small Bible； on the fly…leaf of which he had penciled the fifth verse of the Second Epistle of John
〃And now I beseech thee； lady； not as though I wrote a new commandment unto thee； but that which we had from the beginning； that we love one another。〃
This was not to be resisted； at lease not by Miss Catherine； who demurely handed the volume back to him with a page turned down at the sixteenth verse in the first chapter of Ruth
〃Whither thou goest； I will go； and where thou lodgest； I will lodge： thy people shall be my people； and thy God my God： where thou diest； will I die； and there will I be buried： the Lord do so to me； and more also； if aught but death part thee and me。〃
Aside from this quaint touch of romance； what attaches me to the happy pairfor the marriage was a fortunate oneis the fact that the Rousselets made their home in the old Atkinson mansion； which stood directly opposite my grandfather's house on Court Street and was torn down in my childhood； to my great consternation。 The building had been unoccupied for a quarter of a century； and was fast falling into decay with all its rich wood…carvings at cornice and lintel； but was it not full of ghosts； and if the old barracks were demolished； would not these ghosts； or some of them at least； take refuge in my grandfather's house just across the way？ Where else could they bestow themselves so conveniently？ While the ancient mansion was in process of destruction； I used to peep round the corner of our barn at the workmen； and watch the indignant phantoms go soaring upward in spiral clouds of colonial dust。
A lady differing in many ways from Catherine Moffatt was