24 THE GRANITE MONTHLY.
General Sullivan in figure was well made and active, not tall by any means, but rather short, though his uppish pose somewhat concealed that defect. Admira- ble portraits of him exist. Beards were not in fashion at the time of the Revolution, which is a very fortunate matter for us, as we are enabled to trace the lineaments of leading characters of that time with a degree of satisfaction that in few cases can be the privilege of the future biographers of the men of the present day. The general had a frank, fearless face, with a dark complexion, a prominent nose, and black and piercing eyes. His brown hair was slightly curling. His countenance, as a whole, was harmonious and agreeable ; and his manners were courtly. He looked a soldier and a gentleman, every inch of him.
The old mansion continued to be inhabited by the general's widow and his youngest son John, until 1811, when it was sold at auction. George Sullivan was a prominent lawyer of Exeter, and for several years attorney-general of the State, as was also his son John, the last serving from 1848 to 1863. He suc- ceeded as attorney-general, John Sullivan Wells, who was also a descendant of old Master Sullivan. The general's son John went to Boston, where his uncle James had died, after being for two terms governor of Massachusetts, and where his cousins, William and John Langdon, were well known men. Certainly the progeny of old John Sullivan and his blooming Irish wife were something to be proud of, nor has the stock yet become enervated.
Captain Eben Thompson was for a long time the owner of Sullivan House. He fixed the house up considerably, and while he lived kept the place looking its holiday best. He and his wife died the same night, sometime in the year 1850, Captain Thompson's son Charles then entered into possession of this historic home, which he held until 1866, when Miss Lissetta Davis purchased it for 51,750. Miss Davis still continues to own it.
We wandered into the back yard. There is the little cottage still unchanged, where the negro servants lived, who performed the work of the family. Like most of the northern gentlemen of means, Sullivan had his slaves. But they were well treated. Old Noble, a shiny-faced, bugle-lipped, full-blooded African, who lived to so late a period that the oldest inhabitant still remembers him, was an especial favorite. He used to often row his master down the river to Portsmouth, some thirteen miles away. One day the general was in a hurry, and told Noble he would give him a crown if he would land him in Portsmouth in just two hours.
" Golly, I'll do it, massa ! " said the black, his eyes rolling in joyful anticipa- tion of the reward.
They started down the river. Noble pulling with all his might. It was a cool autumn day, but the negro perspired as though it was in July. Four miles above Portsmouth city he rowed to the shore.
"What does this mean, Noble? " asked Sullivan.
" Means that I'se right down glad we are in Portsmouth, " replied the sable gentleman, holc|ing forth his hand for the crown.
Noble was a mighty oarsmen, but neither he nor any one else could have rowed to Portsmouth warf in the short time specified. The cunning African had, however, by the greatest exertion contrived to touch the shore at the nearest point of the township, thus securing the guerdon that the general had promised him.
The wharf still remains, though some of the planks are decayed and broken. Many and many a time John Sullivan has walked down that path to take pas- sage in his private barge or some passing boat. That was before the day of locomotives, or even steamboats, steam launches and oirtriggers, and most of the business of Durham was done by means of row boats. Each merchant had his craft, and they furnished all the means of transportation for that time.
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