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_The Works of_

E. P. ROE


HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE


E. P. ROE

REMINISCENCES OF HIS LIFE

BY HIS SISTER, MARY A. ROE


ILLUSTRATED


NEW YORK
PETER FENELON COLLIER & SON
MCM


E. P. ROE

REMINISCENCES OF HIS LIFE

_Copyright, 1899_
BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY




INTRODUCTORY NOTE.


Since the death of Edward Payson Roe, in 1888, there have been
inquiries from time to time for some record of his life and work, and
it is in response to these repeated requests that this volume is
issued. While necessarily omitting much that is of too personal a
nature for publication, the editor has allowed the subject of these
Reminiscences to speak for himself as far as possible, although it has
been thought advisable to introduce here and there various papers from
outside sources that seem to throw additional light upon his character.
It is believed that in this way a clearer picture may be given than
would otherwise be obtained of the life of one who was, perhaps, the
most popular American author of his generation. The editor's own part
of the work has been confined to a simple statement of facts and to
supplying connecting links, when such seemed needed, between the
various letters and papers.

Thanks are due, and are hereby offered, to all who have kindly
contributed material or in other ways assisted in the preparation of
this volume.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER                                                          PAGE

   I. BOYHOOD AND COLLEGE DAYS                                      1

  II. LIFE AS CHAPLAIN                                             13

 III. A WINTER CAMP                                                41

  IV. MARRIAGE--THE RAID TOWARD RICHMOND                           58

   V. HAMPTON HOSPITAL                                             70

  VI. THE HOSPITAL FARM AND CHAPEL                                 85

 VII. PASTORATE AT HIGHLAND FALLS                                  95

VIII. RESIGNATION FROM THE MINISTRY                               118

  IX. FRUIT CULTURE AND LITERARY WORK                             124

   X. HOME LIFE                                                   137

  XI. SANTA BARBARA                                               154

 XII. RETURN TO CORNWALL--LETTERS                                 181

XIII. LAST BOOK--DEATH                                            194

 XIV. AN ACCOUNT OF E. P. ROE'S BOOKS                             218

  XV. THE TABLET AND MEMORIAL ADDRESS                             231




ILLUSTRATIONS


E. P. ROE AT THE TIME OF HIS DEATH                      _Frontispiece_

                                                         TO FACE PAGE

E. P. ROE AS A STUDENT                                             10

E. P. ROE AS CHAPLAIN, AGE 26                                      38

VIEW FROM THE PIAZZA AT "ROELANDS"                                128

THE STUDY AT "ROELANDS"                                           152

TABLET ON BOULDER IN "ROE PARK"                                   232


[Illustration: E. P. ROE AT THE TIME OF HIS DEATH.]




E. P. ROE

REMINISCENCES OF HIS LIFE




CHAPTER I

BOYHOOD AND COLLEGE DAYS


My brother Edward and I were the youngest of six children, and as he
was my senior by but a few years we were playmates and almost
inseparable companions in our childhood.

We were born in a roomy old-fashioned house, built by my mother's
father for his oldest son, but purchased by my father when he retired
from business in New York. A more ideal home for a happy childhood
could not easily be found. It stood near the entrance of a beautiful
valley through which flowed a clear stream, and was wind-sheltered by
high bluffs, yet commanded fine views of the mountains with glimpses of
the Hudson showing like lakes between them.

What we called the "side-hill," back of the house, was our chief
playground. My brother delighted in climbing the hickory and chestnut
trees that grew upon it, and it was here in spring that we searched for
wild flowers, from the little hepaticas just peeping above the snow, to
the laurel in its full glory. In after years Edward never visited the
old home without a tramp to the top of that side-hill or along the
wood-road at its base.

Our mother was always an invalid, and the housekeeper, Betsey Williams,
who was a member of our family for many years, became like a second
mother to us in her care and devotion. But she was no disciplinarian,
and I have heard that when Edward was in a childish passion and she
felt unable to cope with the situation she would pick him up bodily and
carry him to my mother's couch. There he would sit beside her, not
daring to move until he could promise obedience, held spellbound by the
authority in her keen black eyes, though she was too weak to raise her
hand to her head.

Edward's love of nature was inherited from both father and mother.
Often, on lovely June days, he would draw mother's wheeled chair
through the broad walks of our large square garden, where the borders
on either side were gorgeous with flowers, while I gathered and piled
the fragrant blossoms on her lap until she was fairly embowered. Yet
one scarcely missed those that were plucked.

Back of the garden ran a clear brook, the overflow from a spring of
soft, cool water at the base of the side-hill, and in it we often
played and tumbled, soaking and soiling many a fresh clean suit.

As is usually the case with younger sisters, I always followed my
brother's lead, and one summer day's adventure in particular stands
clearly in my memory. We little children had started off with the
avowed intention of looking for wild strawberries. We had secretly
planned to visit the old house where my mother was born, which was some
distance farther up the valley and at that time was