Returning to the Mother Thompson Home, Part II
Lead Summary
By
Steve Roush-
Ladies and gentlemen, as I sit on the porch of the Mother Thompson Home, chatting with the daughter of early temperance crusader Eliza Jane Trimble Thompson, I talk with her about the historic edifice.
“I’ve always loved this house,” I say. “It must be a wonderful place to live.”
“Yes,” she replies. “The old home which has been the residence of my parents, Judge and Mrs. Thompson, since their removal from ‘Dewey Lawn,’ my father’s beautiful residence in my childhood, was an inheritance of my mother from her father, Governor Trimble, having been her parents’ home and built by her father. ‘More dear, as years on years advance, we prize the old inheritance. And feel, as far and wide we roam, that all we seek we have at
home.’”
“Ah, yes,” I say, “Gov. Allen Trimble, the son of a Revolutionary War veteran, a man who served during the War of 1812, then went on to serve in the Ohio House of Representatives, the Ohio State Senate and was the eighth and 10th governor of the great state of Ohio. What a great man.”
“He certainly was,” she smiles. “This home that Governor Trimble built had all the old landmarks when I returned again to it, and the combination of my furniture, pictures, rugs and smaller treasures added comfort and beauty to the rooms, already handsomely furnished with old-time and modern furniture.
“Partly from taste, and also for convenience, my parents selected for their room the back parlor with a northern view and indoor passageway to the dining room; for the old home was built with the general entrance to the dining room from a southern porch, and although in the summer the view, the vines and the green grass made it charming, when the winter came, delicate persons needed cloaks and indeed sometimes umbrellas had a mission; and only that we knew in the southern states, the kitchens were sometimes so far removed from the house that the hot buckwheat cakes were carried on horseback to the dining room, could we feel our architecture had made wonderful strides.
“But the lack of convenience in the old home was more than atoned for by the large, hospitable halls and room and by the sacred memories and echo of silent footsteps, which made the old southern porch especially dear, for all loved it.”
As she chats about the old Mother Thompson Home, she continues to reminisce, “The little birds sang their first sweet spring carols near its low windows and sought shelter from the winter storms in the bushes near the dining room door. There had been much hospitality in all the years past in the old home, but as the years of my mother’s life increased came bereavements in quick succession, oftentimes also family illness, curtailing the usual entertainments, but the latchstring was always out, and a guest was no innovation.”
“I know a lot of fine folks have visited this historic place,” I say.
“That my father’s charming sisters could so seldom visit Hillsboro of late years has been a family regret, and a cherished memory is the last visit of Mrs. Maria Daviess, with her daughter Anna; my father’s sister and schoolmate in youth of whose talent Kentucky is so proud, whose heart is as gentle as the south wind, and whose face is also turned to the golden sunset. Among the guests at the old home, none afforded my mother more pleasure than Miss Frances E. Willard and charming Miss Anna Gordon. They visited us several times in the interests of their work, and Miss Willard addressed large temperance audiences and the people were permitted to hear the peer of woman speakers. Mother loved to call Miss Willard her dear daughter and leader, and after her mother passed to the ‘Home over there,’ the affectionate appreciation was even more dear to the great and good and lovely woman, the leader of us all.
“Other prominent temperance workers were my mother’s guests – the lamented Mrs. Woodbridge, and Ohio’s president Mrs. Monroe; and secretary, Mrs. Clevenger; and Mrs. Perkins, of Cleveland; and Mrs. Hunt, of Boston; Mrs. Yeomans, of Canada – all so dear to the cause and heart of their hostess. I was the only child at home when the approaching sunset years brought the Golden Wedding…”
Let’s pause for now, and we’ll continue next week.
Steve Roush is a vice president of an international media company and a columnist and contributing writer for The Highland County Press.
“I’ve always loved this house,” I say. “It must be a wonderful place to live.”
“Yes,” she replies. “The old home which has been the residence of my parents, Judge and Mrs. Thompson, since their removal from ‘Dewey Lawn,’ my father’s beautiful residence in my childhood, was an inheritance of my mother from her father, Governor Trimble, having been her parents’ home and built by her father. ‘More dear, as years on years advance, we prize the old inheritance. And feel, as far and wide we roam, that all we seek we have at
home.’”
“Ah, yes,” I say, “Gov. Allen Trimble, the son of a Revolutionary War veteran, a man who served during the War of 1812, then went on to serve in the Ohio House of Representatives, the Ohio State Senate and was the eighth and 10th governor of the great state of Ohio. What a great man.”
“He certainly was,” she smiles. “This home that Governor Trimble built had all the old landmarks when I returned again to it, and the combination of my furniture, pictures, rugs and smaller treasures added comfort and beauty to the rooms, already handsomely furnished with old-time and modern furniture.
“Partly from taste, and also for convenience, my parents selected for their room the back parlor with a northern view and indoor passageway to the dining room; for the old home was built with the general entrance to the dining room from a southern porch, and although in the summer the view, the vines and the green grass made it charming, when the winter came, delicate persons needed cloaks and indeed sometimes umbrellas had a mission; and only that we knew in the southern states, the kitchens were sometimes so far removed from the house that the hot buckwheat cakes were carried on horseback to the dining room, could we feel our architecture had made wonderful strides.
“But the lack of convenience in the old home was more than atoned for by the large, hospitable halls and room and by the sacred memories and echo of silent footsteps, which made the old southern porch especially dear, for all loved it.”
As she chats about the old Mother Thompson Home, she continues to reminisce, “The little birds sang their first sweet spring carols near its low windows and sought shelter from the winter storms in the bushes near the dining room door. There had been much hospitality in all the years past in the old home, but as the years of my mother’s life increased came bereavements in quick succession, oftentimes also family illness, curtailing the usual entertainments, but the latchstring was always out, and a guest was no innovation.”
“I know a lot of fine folks have visited this historic place,” I say.
“That my father’s charming sisters could so seldom visit Hillsboro of late years has been a family regret, and a cherished memory is the last visit of Mrs. Maria Daviess, with her daughter Anna; my father’s sister and schoolmate in youth of whose talent Kentucky is so proud, whose heart is as gentle as the south wind, and whose face is also turned to the golden sunset. Among the guests at the old home, none afforded my mother more pleasure than Miss Frances E. Willard and charming Miss Anna Gordon. They visited us several times in the interests of their work, and Miss Willard addressed large temperance audiences and the people were permitted to hear the peer of woman speakers. Mother loved to call Miss Willard her dear daughter and leader, and after her mother passed to the ‘Home over there,’ the affectionate appreciation was even more dear to the great and good and lovely woman, the leader of us all.
“Other prominent temperance workers were my mother’s guests – the lamented Mrs. Woodbridge, and Ohio’s president Mrs. Monroe; and secretary, Mrs. Clevenger; and Mrs. Perkins, of Cleveland; and Mrs. Hunt, of Boston; Mrs. Yeomans, of Canada – all so dear to the cause and heart of their hostess. I was the only child at home when the approaching sunset years brought the Golden Wedding…”
Let’s pause for now, and we’ll continue next week.
Steve Roush is a vice president of an international media company and a columnist and contributing writer for The Highland County Press.