Knowles married, first, Jane, daughter of Andrew Peace, medical practitioner, of Cork, widow of a Mr. Daunt, and after her death, in 1800, a Miss Maxwell. James Sheridan was the offspring of the first marriage.
[R. B. Knowles's Life of James Sheridan Knowles; Gent. Mag. 1840.]
As a young man he must have been handsome, for he was good-looking even in old age: a courtly little gentleman, of polished, winning manners, scrupulously neat to the last about the sit of his coat and the polish of his boots, and able to make himself very agreeable. In vain did Mr. Peace expostulate with his daughter against this second marriage. In vain did he urge the suitor’s state of impecuniosity, the disparity between their ages (for the lady had the advantage in time as well as money), and his general disapproval of the match. “love was still the lord of all;” and, some time before the year 1780, James Knowles, bachelor, and Jane Daunt, widow, became man and wife.
That step taken, the next thing to be done was to prove that it had not been a foolish one. The newly-married pair opened a school, and the lady’s popularity, backed by her husband’s ability, soon made it a success. The came incidents not so satisfactory, but beyond their control. The first child was carried off by small-pox. Another came, and in like manner succumbed to that dreadful plague. But on the 12th of May, 1784, in their house on Anne Street, a third came, this time a son, who was not only to fill the void his infant sisters had left, but to fill up another void; for, during all the time that had elapsed since her marriage, Andrew Peace had not spoken to his daughter. This was a great drawback to her happiness. Her hear yearned for the love of the old fireside; and so, when baby had been christened “James,” after his father, and “Sheridan” after the orator, his mother and a lady-friend of hers laid their hands together, to see whether they could not utilize him to bring about a reconciliation between Andrew Peace and his daughter.
The lady-friend was one of Andrew’s patients, and one day he was sent for to come and see her. Not dreaming into what trap he was being decoyed, the old surgeon obeyed, and arriving at the lady’s house was shewn into a room, into which presently came, not the lady but his daughter Jane, with the little olive branch in her arms. It was strange, if old friends, who have quarreled, can come face to face unexpectedly, and not feel a prompting to take each other by the hand before they have time to recollect that they are enemies. But here were father and daughter, and a little mute petitioner for an old man’s love, in his child’s arms. The plot succeeded, and Andrew Peace took his daughter back to his heart, from which he had not been able to drive her very far. In this touching little drama, did the author of “Virginius” play his first important part in life: a drama not, in interest, unlike those he was afterwards to write.
Knowles married, first, Jane, daughter of Andrew Peace, medical practitioner, of Cork, widow of a Mr. Daunt, and after her death, in 1800, a Miss Maxwell. James Sheridan was the offspring of the first marriage.
[R. B. Knowles's Life of James Sheridan Knowles; Gent. Mag. 1840.]
As a young man he must have been handsome, for he was good-looking even in old age: a courtly little gentleman, of polished, winning manners, scrupulously neat to the last about the sit of his coat and the polish of his boots, and able to make himself very agreeable. In vain did Mr. Peace expostulate with his daughter against this second marriage. In vain did he urge the suitor’s state of impecuniosity, the disparity between their ages (for the lady had the advantage in time as well as money), and his general disapproval of the match. “love was still the lord of all;” and, some time before the year 1780, James Knowles, bachelor, and Jane Daunt, widow, became man and wife.
That step taken, the next thing to be done was to prove that it had not been a foolish one. The newly-married pair opened a school, and the lady’s popularity, backed by her husband’s ability, soon made it a success. The came incidents not so satisfactory, but beyond their control. The first child was carried off by small-pox. Another came, and in like manner succumbed to that dreadful plague. But on the 12th of May, 1784, in their house on Anne Street, a third came, this time a son, who was not only to fill the void his infant sisters had left, but to fill up another void; for, during all the time that had elapsed since her marriage, Andrew Peace had not spoken to his daughter. This was a great drawback to her happiness. Her hear yearned for the love of the old fireside; and so, when baby had been christened “James,” after his father, and “Sheridan” after the orator, his mother and a lady-friend of hers laid their hands together, to see whether they could not utilize him to bring about a reconciliation between Andrew Peace and his daughter.
The lady-friend was one of Andrew’s patients, and one day he was sent for to come and see her. Not dreaming into what trap he was being decoyed, the old surgeon obeyed, and arriving at the lady’s house was shewn into a room, into which presently came, not the lady but his daughter Jane, with the little olive branch in her arms. It was strange, if old friends, who have quarreled, can come face to face unexpectedly, and not feel a prompting to take each other by the hand before they have time to recollect that they are enemies. But here were father and daughter, and a little mute petitioner for an old man’s love, in his child’s arms. The plot succeeded, and Andrew Peace took his daughter back to his heart, from which he had not been able to drive her very far. In this touching little drama, did the author of “Virginius” play his first important part in life: a drama not, in interest, unlike those he was afterwards to write.
Family Members
Advertisement
Explore more
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement