The Romance of Old New England Rooftrees

In Short

This collection of biographical vignettes bridges the gap between cold historical data and the lived experiences of the people who shaped early New England. By focusing on specific "rooftrees"—the physical structures that witnessed births, betrayals, and revolutions—the work transforms static landmarks into vessels of memory. It has remained a significant resource for local history enthusiasts because it preserves the personal, often romantic, anecdotes that official records frequently discard, grounding national events in the intimate, domestic spaces where they were truly felt.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book is not a single linear plot but a series of overlapping journeys through the colonial and revolutionary landscapes of New England. It opens with the intellectual ambition of Dean Berkeley, who arrives in Rhode Island with a vision for a "Fifth Empire in the West," only to find his dreams of a college thwarted by political silence from London. From there, the focus shifts to the dramatic personal lives of figures like Sir Harry Frankland and Agnes Surriage, whose unconventional romance defies the rigid class structures of Boston society. Their story, marked by luxury, travel, and the eventual upheaval of the Revolution, sets the stage for a recurring theme: the way personal choices are violently interrupted by shifting political tides.

As the book progresses, the scale moves from individual romance to the high stakes of treason and war. The reader encounters the tragic duality of Doctor Church, a man of high standing and poetic sensibility who falls from grace as the first traitor to the American cause. Parallel to these tales of moral complexity are stories of resilience and survival, such as that of the Reverend John Williams and his family, who endure the trauma of Indian captivity and forced relocation. The prose captures the stark contrast between the domestic tranquility of the homestead—the "Old Manse" or the Hancock mansion—and the chaotic reality of a nation in the process of defining itself.

The arc continues through the lives of those caught in the Revolution’s crossfire, including the legendary Dorothy Q., whose grace as a hostess masks the dangerous political realities of her era. We see the transformation of young men like Caleb Stark, who matures from a rebellious boy into a sophisticated soldier, mirroring the rapid growth of the country itself. The narrative reach even extends into the nineteenth century, documenting the eccentricities of General Charles Lee in his self-imposed, hermit-like exile and the quiet, scholarly idealism of the Brook Farm community.

The story concludes by grounding these grand historical movements in the small, physical remnants of the past: the bullet holes in a door in Deerfield, the lanterns in a Boston steeple, and the weathered stones of a long-abandoned grave. It suggests that while the "great" figures and their political maneuvers eventually fade, the emotional resonance of their lives remains tethered to the physical world. Through these final, quiet reflections on lost loves and forgotten battles, the book leaves the reader with a sense of the fragility of history, suggesting that every old house holds a story that is both specific to its occupant and universal in its humanity.

How It Unfolds

The arrival of an idealist The narrative begins with Dean Berkeley’s arrival in Newport, where he attempts to transplant European intellectual culture into the American soil. His hopeful, scholarly demeanor contrasts sharply with the eventual reality of his abandoned project.

The evolution of a scandal The focus shifts to the controversial union of Sir Harry Frankland and Agnes Surriage, tracking their trajectory from social outcasts in Boston to their life in Europe and eventual return during the Revolution. Their story illustrates how personal devotion frequently clashed with the rigid expectations of colonial high society.

The discovery of internal betrayal The narrative turns to the figure of Doctor Church, whose dual life as a celebrated patriot and a secret British informant reveals the deep instability of the revolutionary period. His fall provides a somber counterpoint to the romantic ideals explored earlier.

The echoes of the wilderness The account describes the trauma of the Williams family and others who were captured or forced to relocate, highlighting the intersection of domestic life and frontier warfare. These chapters serve to remind the reader that the "romance" of the era was often forged in genuine hardship.

The transition to the republic The final beats focus on the figures of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, such as Dorothy Quincy and the men of the Brook Farm experiment. These stories show a society moving away from the colonial period toward the philosophical and political complexities of the new American nation.

The People

Dean Berkeley serves as the intellectual anchor, a man whose desire to build a "Fifth Empire" is constantly challenged by the indifference of the British crown and the physical distance of the New World. In contrast, Agnes Surriage represents the social climber whose resilience and quiet intelligence allow her to navigate the transition from a humble background to the heights of Boston society as the wife of a baronet. Doctor Church occupies the role of the tragic, flawed intellectual; he begins as a man of promise and ends as a cautionary tale of greed. Caleb Stark functions as the archetype of the rising generation, a boy whose personal development is accelerated by the demands of war, while Dorothy Quincy represents the steadfastness of the domestic sphere, maintaining order and culture in a world defined by the presence of generals and revolutionaries. Together, these figures illustrate the spectrum of human ambition and failure in a developing country.

In Its Own Voice

"All houses wherein men have lived and died are haunted houses."

This observation, appearing early in the text, serves as the central philosophy for the book’s exploration of architecture as a repository of human memory.

"I chose her for her qualities of mind, and her unaffected inclination to books."

Dean Berkeley writes this to Lord Percival regarding his wife, highlighting the values of intellectual companionship that defined his own personal life.

"The lines of chalk which you see on the floor mark the divisions of the apartments, and I can sit in a corner and give orders and overlook the whole without moving from my chair."

General Charles Lee describes his stark, minimalist living arrangement, revealing the profound detachment of his later, hermit-like years.

What It's Really About

The central argument of the book is that history is not merely a sequence of political dates or battlefield victories, but a collection of intimate, human experiences tied to the physical environment. It posits that the "rooftrees" of New England act as silent witnesses to the inner lives of those who occupied them. By tracing the biographies of these individuals, the book asks how much of our identity is shaped by the places we inhabit and how much our personal joys and sorrows remain imprinted on the structures we leave behind. It explores the tension between an individual’s desire for private happiness and the relentless, often destructive, pull of public duty and historical change.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the intersection of genealogy, architecture, and narrative biography will find this a rewarding, if somewhat melancholic, companion. It captures the "pilgrim" spirit of the early twentieth century—a time when New Englanders were deeply concerned with preserving their identity amidst a rapidly modernizing world.

The prose is warm and reflective, though modern readers should be prepared for the florid, sentimental style typical of early 1900s historical writing. The author’s attitudes are clearly rooted in her period, occasionally echoing the prejudices of the day regarding indigenous peoples and social hierarchies, which may challenge contemporary sensibilities. Furthermore, the book does not provide a comprehensive history of the region; it is an episodic collection, and those seeking a strictly academic or chronological account may find its focus on "romance" and anecdote insufficient.

However, the book excels as a piece of atmosphere. It feels like a long, meandering walk through a quiet village with an informed, slightly dramatic guide who knows every creaky floorboard and hidden portrait. If you are interested in how the grand, sweeping events of American history touched the lives of real people—and how those people, in turn, imprinted their joys and tragedies onto the very wood and stone of their homes—this volume offers a deeply human perspective that remains poignant even a century later.