8 NO ok ZT 
CHOATE ISLAND 
(Continued from last week.) 
William Choate, another of the 
early inhabitants of Hog Island, 
took up a seafaring life, and became 
a captain at twenty-five, making 
long voyages to the tropical South, 
bringing back marvellous curios, 
and probably, also, still more mar- 
vellous ‘‘yarns.’’ He was a man of 
considerable education for those 
times having originally studied for 
the ministry. -About the time of the 
Revolution he gave up his sea life, 
and in later years turned his early 
education to good account by becom- 
ing instructor for the boys on the 
island. He did such good work with 
them that they were soon much far-- 
ther advanced in their studies than - 
the boys on the mainland. 
It was while this William Choate, 
the old sea-captain, was ‘‘in ¢com- 
mand at the island that one morning 
a strange fleet was sighted, standing 
a few miles out at sea, and flying the 
British ensign. As the British ships 
were more or less harassing the 
towns on the seacoast at this time, 
there was much excitement among 
the islanders, and a lively apprehen- 
sion as to their fate should the Brit- 
ish choose to attack them. Many of 
the women and children were hur- 
ried away to the mainland for 
greater safety, but Mrs. William 
Choate bravely refused to desert her 
colors, and remained at home with 
the Captain. Happily the alarm 
proved groundless. A few British 
officers landed, but offered no dis- 
courtesy, and the fleet soon sailed 
away. 
An old, worn Bible of the sturdy 
old sea-captain is still in existence 
and is among the treasured posses- 
sion of Hon. Joseph H. Choate, a 
direct descendant of the captain. ~ 
So life went on within the borders 
of the little isle, as in the greater 
world, with mingled joy and sorrow. 
There were courtships and mar- 
riages, births and deaths. The men 
tilled the soil, and bought and sold; 
they engaged in maritime _ enter- 
prises some of them making long 
voyages to other countries in com- 
mand of their own vessels. They 
served with honor in the Revolution, 
and later in the War of 1812. The 
women of their households were 
worthy helpmates, the younger 
daughters married into other fami- 
lies on the mainland or on the two 
or three other island farms and their 
descendants proved worthy of the 
race from which they came. 
The original estate had been 
divided into smaller farms, each the 
S HORE 
BREEZE 
home of a Choate family. The chil- 
dren of the different households 
were cousins or second cousins. 
There were, in the three Choate 
households on the island, as many 
as sixteen daughters of a marriage- 
able age. Many a young man from 
Ipswich came across to the little isle 
to go ‘‘a-wooing.’’ Tradition tells 
that one of the first who came be- 
wildered by the sight of so many 
pretty maids, sought counsel from 
one of the matrons, asking her how 
he should choose. ‘‘I guess you’d 
better take Mary, she’s the oldest,’’ 
remarked the good dame, cheer- 
fully. As ‘‘Mary’’ was as pretty 
and winsome as heart could desire, 
the young man accepted the advice, 
devoted himself to winning her af- 
fections, ana in due time they were 
happily married. One by one the 
sixteen maidens found a lover to 
their hking and moved away to new 
homes on the mainland. One wor- 
thy squire, the father of seven, as 
he saw the last of his blooming dam- 
sels carried away, turned to _ his 
wife with a rueful smile and whim- ° 
sically said, ‘‘ Well, I don’t know as 
I can even keep you much longer. 
I suppose it will be your turn 
next!’’ 
One of the island’s most illustri- 
ous sons was Rutus Choate, the great 
advocate, orator, statesman. He 
was born on Tuesday, October 1, 
1799, at three o’clock in the after- 
noon, according to the careful rec- 
-ord set down by his father in the 
family bible. His long life of use- 
fulness and honor is’ well known. 
He was one of the most gifted law- 
yers, one of the most brilliant con- 
vincing orators, the world has ever 
known, and he served his country 
in private life as in House and 
Senate. When Rufus was about six 
months old his father purchased a 
house in the village of Chebacco, 
and moved there with his family, 
but doubtless many of the boy’s 
summers were spent on the island. 
Rufus was peculiarlv susceptible to 
the beauties of nature and he always 
loved the sea, in sight of which he 
was born, and in sight of which he 
died. He retained his fondness for 
the scenes of his childhood, and on 
one of his last visits to the island, 
in 1854, took a melancholy pleasure 
in seeking out each familiar land- 
mark, peering into the depths of the 
old well, pointing out to his friends 
the place where, as a boy, he had 
raked and carried hay. The water, 
the marshes, the rising and falling 
tides, the passing ships, never lost 
their hold on his imagination. The 
night before he died, in Halifax, he 
had been watching the beautiful 
harbor and the ships. ‘‘If a 
schooner goes by,’’ he said, ‘‘do not 
disturb me; but if a square-rigged 
ship goes by then wake me.’’ 
Today the summer visitor to 
Choate Island finds the scene ag 
beautiful as in the early days when 
the subjects of King George found 
it “‘very fair to look upon.’’ The 
woods that once covered the land 
have long since disappeared; the 
house built by the first settler on the 
island, Thomas Choate has been 
gone for a hundred years but its 
foundation stones are still pointed 
out. The house built in 1725 is the 
oldest now standing, and is un- 
changed in appearance, except for 
the piazza added about forty years 
ago. It is a type of the comfortable, 
old-fashioned farmhouse, with low- 
studded rooms and huge old fire- 
places. In one of the rooms is 
shown the cradle in which Rufus 
Choate was rocked and a desk in 
later years was used by him. Near 
the house, on. the crest of the ridge, 
visible for miles around is a large 
barn which bears the date 1775. 
Farther down the slope of the hill 
is another old barn through which 
a cannon-ball was thrown in the 
War of 1812 by a British Man-of- - 
War, the seventy-four gun ship La 
Hague. The hole made by the 
cannon-ball was boarded up years 
ago and the place shingled over, so 
that no trace of it can now be 
seen. 
On a beautiful knoll at the north- 
ern end of the island, on the Burn- 
ham estate, is the old Indian 
burying-ground. It is somewhat 
singular that during the long his- 
tory of over two hundred years that 
the Choates have been born and 
have lived and died on their favorite 
island home, not one of them has 
ever chosen it for his last resting- 
place. The graves of the Choates 
have always been on the mainland. 
There are now a dozen cottages 
on the island, owned by summer res- 
idents, Mr. Rufus Choate, nephew 
and namesake of the famous advo- 
cate, owns part of the original farm, 
and spends his summers in the old 
farmhouse. 
There is « charm about the place; 
it seems a quiet refuge, a little ha- 
ven of peace from the turmoil of the 
busy world of strife. Hon. Joseph 
H. Choate, who visited the home- 
stead recently with his family and 
a small party of friends, seemed 
impressed by the peaceful aspect of 
the scene. While the rest of the 
party wandered about, visiting the 
historic spots, the ex-ambassador to 
England stood quietly looking at 
the view of river, sea, and shore, 
