It was at one of these rather informal, but enjoyable gatherings that he first met the young girl who was soon to become his wife. Mason had warned him to “beware of Margaret Hazard,” as the two young men were setting out to attend a tea party at the Vernons’ hospitable mansion, two miles out of town. The young lady was a daughter of Benjamin Hazard, for years recognized as the ablest lawyer and statesman in the State, who had represented the town in the state legislature for thirty-one years without a break, having been elected sixty-two times in succession. Although very young, she possessed many attractions of person and character, had many admirers, and was one of the acknowledged belles. Notwithstanding the friendly or jocose warning, Mr. Stevens was duly presented to Miss Hazard, and had the pleasure of escorting her home, and improved the opportunity by inviting her to ride on horseback the following afternoon. Miss Margaret lacked a suitable habit, it seems; but an old cloak skillfully adapted served for the long sweeping skirt then in vogue, a cousin furnished his new beaver for a riding-hat, and another admirer contributed a handsome silver-mounted riding-whip, so that when the cavalier presented himself on his gray charger with a groom leading the “Indian Queen,” the young lady was ready. The “Indian Queen” was the name of a noted saddle-horse from the stable of Nicholas Hassard, who for many years kept the livery stable on Spring, or Back Street, corner of Touro. When asked if the “Indian Queen” was a safe horse for the young lady, Mr. Hassard replied, “Miss Margaret Hazard can ride any horse in my stable.”
This ride led to others, and it was not long before the two rode over the beaches together nearly every pleasant afternoon. Mr. Stevens would come with the horses about five o’clock, and the usual ride was over the three beaches and around by the green End road; and a more romantic, beautiful, and pleasant course it would be hard to find.
A fearless horseman, he was fond of horses and of riding. He owned and delighted to ride a fiery gray, which ofttimes taxed all his strength, skill, and daring to master, and which occasionally ran away despite all efforts. Once the steed, with the bit in his teeth, dashed headlong for the stable. “Stevens is done for!” exclaimed Mason; “the stable door is too low to ride under, and his brains will be knocked out.” But the rider threw himself along the side and neck of the furious animal just in time to avoid this danger.
Mason’s warning was indeed in vain. Writes his intimate friend, H.L. Smith, as early as April:—
“Not in love, Stevens; why, your description fired me. By heavens! it is a glorious thing to see a girl with a large soul. Would there were more such. ‘Dark blue eyes;’ ‘Rides fearlessly;’ ‘Loves Channing, Carlyle, Milton;’ ‘A sweet smile,’ etc.”
He became a frequent caller upon, and intimate in the family of, Benjamin Hazard. The latter was slowly sinking under the lingering disease, consumption, which carried him off in 1841. The gifted and sympathetic young man would have long talks and discussions with the intellectual, learned, and experienced senior, and would read to him from his favorite authors, Swift and Shakespeare. “I think our young lieutenant is very handsome,” remarked Mr. Hazard, doubtless alluding to his fine head and sound, bright mind, and perhaps quietly rebuking the disparaging term “homely.” It was not long before he became an acknowledged suitor for the hand of Miss Margaret, and they were betrothed in the summer of 1840.
The mansion occupied by this family, situated on Broad Street, on the southern corner of Stone Street, and near the state house, is one of the oldest in Newport, the timbers of which, according to tradition, were cut and hewn in the woods between the harbor and the beach. By a curious coincidence it has descended in the female line for three generations. Before and during the Revolution it was the home of John G. Wanton, a wealthy colonial merchant and the son of the colonial governor, Gideon Wanton.
It was a favorite resort of the brilliant French officers who landed in Newport to aid the struggling patriots, one of whom cut with a diamond upon a small, old-fashioned window-pane in the great parlor, “Charming Polly Wanton, Oct. 17, 1780.” But an American officer, Colonel Daniel Lyman, afterwards chief justice of Rhode Island and president of the Society of the Cincinnati in Rhode Island, married “Charming Polly” away from her French admirers.
Mary Wanton was an only daughter, and inherited the old mansion, where she reared a family of thirteen children, and dispensed the gracious hospitality to which she was accustomed.
One of her daughters, Harriet Lyman, married Benjamin Hazard, and upon the removal of Colonel Lyman and his family to Providence, succeeded to the old Newport homestead, which thus for generations was the scene of family happiness, worth, refinement, and hospitality. It is now owned and occupied by two of Benjamin Hazard’s daughters, Misses Emily Lyman and Mary Wanton Hazard, who maintain the traditions of the old mansion with charming grace.