fty years old at the
time of his marriage to my grandmother, Miss Leupp, of New Jersey, who
died soon after, leaving an only child, my mother. A few years later he
married Lydia Blackwell at her home on Blackwell's Island, which her
father, Jacob Blackwell, had inherited from his father, Jacob Blackwell,
the son of Robert Blackwell, who was the progenitor of the family in
this country and gave his name to the island upon which he resided.
Several years later Captain Hazard was heard to remark that matrimony
was a lottery, and that he had drawn two prizes. I have in my possession
an old letter written by Miss Blackwell to my grandfather previous to
their marriage, which is so quaint and formal that I am tempted to give
it in full:

Miss Blackwell's compliments to Captain Hazard and desires
to know how he does--and if well enough will be glad to see
him the first leisure day--as she has something of
consequence to communicate and is sorry to hear that he has
been so much indisposed as to deprive his friends of the
pleasure of his company for this last fortnight--May you
enjoy every happiness this imperfect estate affords is the
sincere wish of your friend,

L. B.

Let me see you on Sunday.

Burn this.

Captain Hazard brought his new bride to the old home on the Rockaway
Road where I was subsequently born, and she immediately took under her
protecting wing my mother, who was then but little more than an infant.
The babe grew and thrived, and never knew until she was a good-sized
girl that the woman who had so lovingly nurtured her was only a
step-mother. She learned the fact from a schoolmate who told her out of
revenge for some fancied wrong; and I shall always remember my mother
telling me how she hurried home feeling all the time that the cruel
story was untrue, only to have it confirmed by the lips of the woman who
had been as affectionate and unselfish as any mother could possibly have
been to her own child. In subsequent years, when my mother gathered her
own children around her, she held her step-mother up to us as the
embodiment of all female virtue and excellence, all of which is
confirmed by my own recollection of her remarkable character and
exemplary life.

On the farm adjoining us lived a crusty old bachelor by the name of
Martin, who in his earlier life had been professionally associated with
Aaron Burr. No human being was allowed to cross h