THE JAFFREY MANSION.
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��formerly the fine front yard and ele- vated position of the mansion gave it a very inviting aj^pearance from the street. This yard, and the extensive garden plat in the rear are now cov- ered by many houses ; but the hand- some porch and magnificent linden trees on the premises still attract many admirers.
The visitor passes through a white gate, under the graceful, over-arching boughs of these solemn trees. They rather impress one. There they had stood for generations, noting many a change that had come to the old house — noting the pageantry and the pomp of the old colonial times — not- ing the gaiety and the festivity that had reigned within many and many a time, when king's councillors and princely merchants and courtly aristo- cratic dames had feasted and danced and held gay revelry within the an- cient walls — noting how the two an- gels, one of life, and one of death, had often winged their way hither on their respective errands. No wonder I felt solemn as their shadow fell upon me. No wonder I walked slowly towards the door, stopping as I crossed the threshold to look back at the venerable arms that hung protectingly over the house.
" That old House stands alone, A (|ueer and cvunihling pile ; And though its shattered gables tell — Like the vibrations of a distant bell — Of days and years mayhap of centuries flown, I am too sad to smile."
Yet it is a cheerful old home, and its historic memories are mostly pleas- ant ones. I loved to bring back the past, shutting my eyes, and dreaming as I sat in the house door. How many feet have crossed this threshold ! feet that will never more tread the earth ; inemorable feet, some of them, whose prints were made so deep in the sands of time, that they cannot be effaced.
Fancy the great Dr. Franklin pass- ing through this broad hall-way and taking his place by the west window
��of the parlor to watch the distant hills and the setting sun ; I can almost see him now, with his benevolent face and his quaint costume of a hundred and twenty years ago. In the grand par- lor is his medalion portrait, placed there by his own hand, — the hand that once drew lightning from the clouds, the hand now so nerveless in the tomb.
Before Franklin, there came to the old house under the linden trees the hero of Louisburg. Sir William Pep- perell, the great colonial magistrate of America, knight, baronet, owner of two hundred thousand acres of land, and ships that sailed on every sea. The old knight and the first councillor Jaffrey were good friends, and in this ancient parlor drank many a glass of port together while bending over the chess-board or whist- table.
In the dim, wainscotted parlor, with other portraits, is that of George Jaffrey, second, who was councillor in 1 716, and treasurer of the province after the death of Samuel Penhallow in 1726. He was also chief justice of the superior court to the time of his death in 1749. Sharp featured, keen, with an expression in which vehemence and intensity are blended with eagerness, the old councillor looks out upon us. It is a striking, brilliant face, but it lacks that massive- ness of feature, and that composure of expression, which are the guaran- tee of solid and consummate power. With his wig, small clothes, and broad skirted coat, he bears a little resem- blance to the first Governor John Wentworth, but is a lighter man withal.
The second George Jaffrey was born at Newcastle, in 1683, and was the son of George Jaffrey, first, and Elizabeth Walker, his wife. He grad- uated at Harvard College in 1702. As early as 1719 he took up his resi- dence in Portsmouth, for we find him holding various town offices from and after that year. From his father, who was a man of wealth, and who was speaker of the New Hampshire as- bly in 1691, he inherited a large prop-
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