The Henrys and the Jeffersons at Our Home at Dungeness
Record of the family of James W. Logan of Dungeness, Goochland, Va.
Nathaniel West Dandridge married Dorothea, daughter of Governor Alexander Spotswood and Jean Butler. Son William married Anne Bolling fourth. Daughter Jean Butler married Reverend Joseph D. Logan, son James William married Sarah Strothers, Born 1815, Jan. 15, Born 1819, May 3, Married 1838, Golden Wedding 1888.
Children / Born / Died
Mary Louisa / 1839, Oct.17 / 1863, Jan. 1
Anna Clayton / 1841, May 24 /
Jean Dandridge / 1843, Aug. 24 /
George Woodson / 1845, Aug. 10 /
John Lee / 1847, Mar. 5 / 1854, Jan. 15
Ellen Lewis / 1849, June 25 /
James William / 1830
James William / 1851, Nov. 15 /
Joseph Davis / 1853, Oct. 6 /
Edith Erskine / 1855, May 28 /
Mercer Patton / 1857
Ellen Lewis / 1859, Dec. 13
Sidney Strother / 1862, Jan. 17th / 1893, Feb. 5
Family of Anna Clayton Logan
Born May 24, 1841, Married Robert Henry Logan, Dec. 31, 1871
Children / Born / Died
*1 Mary Louisa / 1872, Sept. 27
*2 Elsie Addison / 1874, Nov. 27
*3 Sarah Strothers / 1877, Feb. 27
*4 John Lee / 1878, July 17 / 1906, Feb. 19
*5 Philip Clayton / 1880, Oct. 27 / 1893, June 10
Robert Henry Logan died December 27th, 1900
*1 Mary Lousie Logan married Paul Cook Nugent
Children / Born
Paul Cook / Jan. 15
Robert Logan / Feb. 9
*2 Elsie Addison Logan married Joseph Clayton Logan
Children / Born
Anne Clayton / Sept. 9
Lettie Grant / Dec. 5
Robert Henry / April 29
Mary Louise / May 10
Sarah Strother / May 24
*3 Sarah Strother married Stephen Russell Mallory Kennedy
One son Thomas, born November 23rd
*4 John Lee, married June 1903
+ Lousie Logan, died February 17, 1906 = One son, Philip Clayton, born Sept. 14th, 1904
As I lay resting one afternoon the old times were clearly pictured in my mind. There came to me the recollections of “Retreat” the beautiful home of Mr. and Mrs. George Woodson Payne in Goochland County, Virginia where I was born in 1841, May 24th. My father was the adopted son of these good people. Mrs. Payne, being his great aunt, took him when his mother, Jean Butler Dandridge, died. My father lived with them, was finely educated and graduated at Hampden Sydney College. He lived with them and was married in 1838 to Sarah Strother, living after marriage at Retreat for several years, so there my sister Mary and I were born. I recall what a beautiful child she was and how she was the darling of the old people, grandfather and grandmother as we called them.
I was born in the same brick cottage in 1841, and was a pale-faced, big eyed little soul with lots of brown hair and a decided mouth and chin. My grandmother “Aunt Polly” loved me the best, but loved us both. We were her pride and joy. She bought us beautiful clothes, took us with her to church and to visit and expected everyone to admire us. I remember a blue muslin cloak and quilted hood. I could not have been over four years old, but the satin lined cloaks and hoods are fresh in my mind as are many other things of those days. How clearly I see the white colonial pillars of the porches, back and front. And the well appointed house, its garden, the lovely conservatories and flowers. My Aunt Martha took care of them and was so efficient in every respect. At the bottom of the garden was a spring surrounded by Lombardy poplars. How I would delight to have a drought of its sparkling ice cold water. I remember nothing of the front yard only the line of Lombardy poplars which led to the house. But I will never forget the comforts of that well-appointed house – elegant carpets, beautiful hangings, silver, cut glass and china. I wish I could tell of what I remember of well trained and accomplished servants. I even remember their names. Davy, the butler, Annie Kenney, my Aunt Polly’s maid, John Long, carriage driver and head gardener. I could write volumes if I could see. The appointments of this minage* was only excelled by its simple life and its pureness of Christian living.
My Payne grandfather was a devoted Christian, a man of noble means and exalted character. One circumstance made its lasting impress. He always had morning and evening prayer which the family and home servants attended and every day at twelve o’clock he retired to his “Sanctum Sanctorum” for private prayer. I almost worshipped this holy man.
His wife, my father’s great aunt was elegant and most proper, bearing her wealth however a little haughtily and never forgot she was the granddaughter of Gov. Alexander Spotswood. Dear old lady, I only knew her when she was old. She loved to have my sister and myself sit at her foot on little stools and hear her tell of the balls. She would describe the costumes of her older sisters. She would say, “You ought to have seen your great grandmother Sister Dandridge with her quilted skirts, pointed slippers, and sister Winston. How beautifully they bowed and danced the Minuet.
Sometimes we would speak of sister Hanny (Mrs. Patrick Henry) and for many years I thought them different persons but years later I learned that Mrs. Winston married twice, the last husband was Patrick Henry. The old lady was aristocratic. She used to invite her neighbors all once a year and called once a year. And then she would say, “Now I am done with them.” I do this to please Mr. Payne. After this I go to see those I like.” And then she would say, “Now babies, look in the stone jars in my boudoir closet and get two pieces of candy (home made) and two cakes.
I was only six years old when the old lady died. I think she was eighty. I was sleeping with her and was aroused by those attending her. She died in the night after a short illness. I sat up by her, frightened, every one thinking of her and forgetting me. I was at last noticed. My aunt took me out of the room. My sister was at our home, Dungeness. I had come to visit and spend a week. I was often sent for. I remember my first visit after we moved. I was homesick and ordered John Long, the driver to take me home. The old lady seemed very proud of the baby’s spunk, as she called my badness, and actually had the carriage ordered and me driven to Dungeness as I called it, a distance of twelve miles.
My grandmother was buried by her husband at Dungeness under a great oak tree. This was their request. Grandfather had died two years before when I was four years old. How we missed those dear people. I miss them now at 76.
My aunt came then to live with us, and was to us the comfort she had ever been, being really the presiding genius of both homes. A dainty, aristocratic little woman, a most efficient and willing person, she taught me a great deal. My sister Mollie and I stayed in her room. She instructed us on all subjects, cared for us as a mother. My mother, this Aunt Martha and my mother’s sister Mrs. Hansbrough were three most beautiful and efficient women. My Aunt Martha never married, and moved with us in 1868 to Salem, Virginia where she died in 1878. I mourn her loss and scarcely a day passes I do not wish her back to sympathize and comfort us.
My grandfather left my father the bulk of his property as his adopted son. The beautiful estate Dungeness with servants, money and other property. He left money to his nieces and nephews. To my Aunt Martha, his niece, $10,000. To Louisa Lee, Mrs. Joseph D. Logan, his second wife, $10,000, to Spotswood Payne Lynchbourg, $10,000, and other legacies. I have his will. The estate Dungeness was purchased from the Randolph family, Here Thomas Jefferson was married to Jane Randolph*. Since the civil War Dungeness passed out of our family. I do not know who owns it now.
Here ends the first volume of my life.
(*Noted error: Jane Randolph married Peter Jefferson at Dungeness in 1739. Thomas Jefferson was their son.)