Congress were pleased to grant the prayer of this petition. The road passing the village landing south leads to the Great Planting neck, called by the Indians Quinnahung, upon which are now many beautiful country seats. At the south-east extremity of the neck is situated Hunt's Point. This property has been occupied by the Hunt family for nearly one hundred and sixty years, having passed into their hands by the marriage of Thomas Hunt with Elizabeth Jessup, daughter of Edward Jessup, one of the first patentees. In 1688, Thomas Hunt, of the Grove farm, granted to his son Thomas Hunt one hundred acres lying on the south side of Gabriel Leggett's land, bounded eastwardly and southerly by Broncks's river. It is now the property of Mr. Daniel Winship, who married Eliza, the widow of the late Richard Hunt, Esq. The old Grange erected in 1688, occupies a beautiful situation near the termination of the point, overlooking the East river and Flushing bay. This place was for many years the residence of Rodman Drake the poet, and it was here that he wrote his well known lines on the Bronx, on the neighboring banks of which he often wandered. I sat me down upon a green bank side, Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river, Whose waters seemed unwillingly to glide, Like parting friends, who linger while they sever; Backward they wind their way in many a wistful eddy. Gray o'er my head the yellow-vested willow Glancing in light, like spray on a green billow, Or the fine frost work which young winter freezes, Congeals sad autumn's tears on the dead branches lying. From rocks around hung the loose ivy dangling, Left on some morn, when light flash'd in their eyes unheeded. The hum-bird shook his sun-touched wings around, The bluefinch carolled in the still retreat; The antic squirrel capered on the ground, Where lichens made a carpet for his feet, There were the dark cedars, with loose mossy tresses, Blue pellorets from purple leaves upslanting A modest gaze, like eyes of a young maiden Shining beneath dropp'd lids the evening of her wedding. The breeze fresh springing from the lips of morn, Kissing the leaves, and sighing so to loose 'em, The winding of the merry locust's horn, The glad spring gushing from the rock's bare bosom ; Sweet sighs, sweet sounds, all sights, all sounds excelling, Oh! 'twas a ravishing spot, form'd for a poet's dwelling. And I did leave thy loveliness, to stand Again in the dull world of earthly blindness; Yet I will look upon thy face again My own romantic Bronx, aud it will be A well remembered form in each old tree, 35 The burial place of the Hunt family, is located near the entrance of the point. The following inscriptions are copied from two of the monuments in this yard: in memory of Thomas Hunt, who departed this life, July 4th, 1808, in the 80th year of his age. He possessed the cardinal virtues in an eminent degree; he was temperate, brave, patient and just : Fitz Greene Halleck's pathetic lines on the death of his companion, will not be considered inappropriate here, especially as the last two of the first stanza are engraved upon this tomb stone. Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise. Tears fell when thou wert dying, From eyes unused to weep, And long, where thou art lying, Will tears the cold turf steep. When hearts whose truth was proven, Like thine, are laid in earth, There should a wreath be woven To tell the world their worth. |