But Burnside is not the only personage of Irish lineage whom Brown has honored by permanently displaying his portrait on her walls. There is another—Commodore Perry, the hero of Lake Erie. Perry of Irish lineage? Yes, on his mother’s side. Who was his mother? Sarah Alexander, a native of Newry, Ireland. During our Revolution some American prisoners of war were confined by the British at Newry, Sarah’s native place. Among them was Christopher R. Perry. The American prisoners naturally elicited much commiseration from the Irish, who were in hearty sympathy with the Revolution.
Miss Alexander became acquainted with Mr. Perry during his imprisonment. This acquaintance in after years ripened into love and marriage. Commodore Oliver H. Perry was their son. Shortly after their marriage they came to Rhode Island and settled in South Kingstown. They were described as “a young and uncommonly handsome couple,” and their advent was celebrated by feasting and sociality.
None gave a heartier welcome to Mr. Perry and his fair young Irish bride than the former’s maternal grandfather, the venerable Oliver Hazard. As Mrs. Perry, Sarah Alexander became one of the most noted women in Rhode Island history. She had five sons—all distinguished—and three daughters. Speaking of Mrs. Perry, Mackenzie, a biographer of Commodore Perry, states that her friends in the old country “had been involved in the Irish rebellion. She, herself, had felt a lively interest in the cause of liberty, and had listened with deep interest to every account she had heard [in Ireland] of battles and skirmishes in the neighborhood. She took a pleasure in recounting to her son the achievements of her countrymen, and always insisted that they [the Irish] were the bravest people in the world.” These narrations fired the mind of young Perry and created a desire in him to pursue the profession of arms. His mother, “to great strength of character added high intellectual powers and rare social grace, training her children with extraordinary care to high ideals of life and duty.” It was also said of her that she fitted Perry “to command others by teaching him early to obey,” and when he was old enough to attend school she consigned him to the care of Old Master Kelly, the Irish teacher whom I have already noticed. For years after the Lake Erie triumph it was spoken of in Rhode Island as “Mrs. Perry’s victory,” in allusion to the manner in which Oliver had been reared.
The university also possesses a portrait of Andrew Jackson. The latter visited Rhode Island while president of the United States, and may have been a guest in Providence and likewise have visited Brown. Jackson was of Irish descent. In an address to the Charitable Irish Society of Boston, in 1833, he said: “I am glad to see assembled on this occasion so many of the countrymen of my father. I am proud,” he continued, “to be descended from that race which has so much to recommend it to the good wishes of the world.” The portrait of Jackson in possession of the university was, I understand, to be seen a few years since in Rhode Island hall. Possibly it is still there.
In 1850—quite half a century ago—a committee was appointed to raise a fund of $125,000 for the university. President Wayland was then at the head of the institution. Among the subscribers to this fund was Matthew Watson, who contributed $500. Watson was, I believe, a descendant of a sturdy Irish immigrant, who settled in Barrington, R. I., in 1722. This immigrant’s name was also Matthew Watson, and nearly every generation of the family since that day has had a Matthew in it. Bicknell, in his “Sketches of Barrington,” tells us that Matthew the settler became a brickmaker and in time wedded Miss Read, the daughter of his employer. Her father opposed the match and represented to her the “folly” of throwing herself away, as he expressed it, on “a little poor Irishman.” His arguments were of no avail, however, and she and Matthew were married at Barrington in 1732. The marriage was a happy one. The “little poor Irishman” subsequently purchased the farm of his father-in-law and conducted the brickmaking business on an extensive scale. He erected a commodious brick house, which became known to the country round about as “the great Watson mansion.” Matthew, the immigrant, at one time held the position of judge of the court of common pleas for Bristol county. He is estimated to have accumulated in his brickmaking industry a fortune of $80,000. Some of his descendants are still living on the homestead. Matthew Watson, the benefactor to Brown in 1850, is believed, as I have stated, to be a descendant of this old Barrington settler.
The part taken by students and alumni of Brown University in the Civil War has been alike honorable and eminent. A memorial volume has been published on the subject. Of the graduates in 1856, Thomas Ewing, Jr., became one of the most distinguished. He came of a prominent Ohio family and on his mother’s side was of Irish descent. He was made colonel of the Eleventh Kansas Volunteers, 1862; brigadier-general of United States Volunteers, 1863, and brevet major-general United States Volunteers in 1865. Later he became chief justice of Kansas.
John C. Sullivan of the class of 1867 served in the Fourth Massachusetts Volunteers, entering the regiment in 1862. He became a student of Brown University after leaving the army.
In 1861, when the literary society of Brown was arranging its annual reunion, the question of a poem, of course, came up. It was finally decided that Fitz James O’Brien, a brilliant young Irishman, should be invited to officiate as poet of the occasion. O’Brien was a native of Limerick, Ireland, and born in 1828. His father was a lawyer and his mother a woman of uncommon beauty. Fitz James was educated in Dublin. He came to this country in 1852 with letters of introduction to prominent Americans. He quickly gained entrance to literary and fashionable society, where his talents soon made him a great favorite. He wielded a prolific pen. Among his contributions were: “The Ballad of Sir Brown,” “The Gory Gnome,” “The Wonderful Adventures of Mr. Papplewick” and “The Demon of the Gibbet.” Among his poems, in addition to those mentioned, were: “Down in the Glen at Idlewild,” “The Zouaves,” “Helen Lee,” “The Countersign,” “Sir Brasil’s Falcon,” “The Song of the Locomotive,” and “The Prisoner of War.” His stories include “The Diamond Lens,” “The Golden Ingot,” “The Dragon Fang” and “The Pot of Tulips.”
O’Brien enlisted in the Seventh New York regiment and marched with it to the defence of Washington. At the expiration of his term of service he returned to New York and started in, personally, to raise a regiment to be known as the McClellan Rifles. It was while thus engaged that he received the invitation to attend the exercises at Brown. After considering the matter, he replied, expressing regret at being unable to accept. Said he:
“A regiment of rifles which I am now engaged in raising demands all my time. If you can put me on the track of one hundred good men, you will please me better than if you crowned me with bays. If there is a spare population up your way, I would take a recruiting trip thither, and present my regrets in person.”