"Remember Thee"

By Jessie Serfilippi and Kiera Fitzsimmons

Historians spend a lot of time researching, reading, and looking for anything of historical significance, but sometimes, history finds you. Grouped together with documents and letters regarding Louisa Lee and Georgina Schuyler, was a common place book, a handmade collection of literature and quotes that were important to the creator of the book, that belonged to their mother, Eliza Hamilton Schuyler (1811-1863), the granddaughter of Alexander (~1755-1804) and Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton (1757-1854).   The first few pages of the commonplace book contain a set of four poems. The poems were addressed “To Eliza H.,” and signed with a set of initials, J.L.O., and a first name, Jane.   

Initially, it was unclear who Jane was, but since Eliza was only twelve at the time she received these poems, it’s likely Jane was a schoolmate. At this time, there were multiple schools in Manhattan that catered to wealthy families such as the Hamiltons. A helpful source from the Merchant’s House Museum about elite schools luckily mentions Eliza by name. She attended a school that was run by a wealthy woman named Mary O’Kill (1785-1859), who opened her school at 43 Barclay Street in 1823, and who had a daughter named Jane.  

Birth records show that Jane was born Jane Leigh O’Kill in 1810 to Mary Jay and John O’Kill. This means that when the poems were given to Eliza, Jane was around thirteen or fourteen years old, only about a year older than Eliza. Jane likely attended her mother’s school alongside Eliza and other girls from wealthy families. With the name “Jane” and the initials “J.L.O.,” Jane was certainly the person who gave these poems to Eliza. 

The first poem in the packet, dated July 23, 1824, is titled “To Eliza H,” and is included below.  

Remember thee! Yes, in my heart thou ‘rt enshrin’d, 
Enthron’d in its inmost recefs I have set thee, 
Thy virtues, thy genius, thy pure lofty mind, 
Must live in my thoughts, I can never forget thee. 

                                         2nd 

Still, still, the bright glance of thy soul beaming eye, 
Will illumine the thoughts which thy genius enlighten’d 
To those deep tender tones, I still seem to reply, 
Still dwell on that smile which my sadnefs has brighten’d. 

                                         3rd 

Remember thee? Yes, while remembrance remains, 
While life warms my heart, I can never forget thee; 
While this bosom one trace of affection retains, 
I still must remember and will never forget thee 

This poem appeared in Volume 1 of the Ladies Literary Cabinet in 1819, which can be found here. The recipient of the poem is not revealed in the magazine, but the author is listed as “Harriet.” Jane likely thought of Eliza when she read this poem, so she copied it down to give to her. It’s possible that the girls were facing a time of separation, perhaps a break from school, and Jane copied it for Eliza, even making a few changes of her own. The poem may have served as a comfort for Eliza to remind her of their affection for one another, even while they were apart.  

The poem contains strong themes of love and remembrance. Words like “enshrin’d” and “enthron’d,” and repeated lines about remembrance exude a sense of mourning and reflect common mourning language of the early 19th century. While typically associated with death, this could be seen as mourning a temporary separation, which will be seen again in “Forget me Not.” 

More so than mourning, this is a poem about love. Throughout the poem, the writer uses language clearly associated with love or deep affection. Jane even went so far as to change the final line of the poem to more specifically express her own feelings. The original line reads “I still must remember, and still must regret thee,” while Jane wrote “I still must remember and will never forget thee.” This conveys far different emotions than the original version. 

This imagery continues in the final poem in the packet, “Forget me Not.” This poem appeared in Volume 1 of Saturday Night in 1824, which can be found here. In the publication, the poem was addressed to “W. B.” and signed “Charlotte.”

There is a flower that oft unheeded grows  Amid the splendour of the summer’s ray,  And though this simple flower no sweets disclose,  Yet it will tell thee all I wish to say.  And when we’re parted by the foaming sea,  And thou art carelefs what may be my lot;  I’ll send this flower a mefsenger to thee,  And it shall gently whisper thus--                                                                                      Forget me not  The first poem seems to tell Eliza that Jane will not forget her, but with this poem, she asks Eliza to remember her as well. Just as it does today, in the 19th century the forget-me-not flower had connotations of love and mourning. The flower seems to represent a mourning of the severance of their bond in anticipation of their separation. It is possible Jane included a pressed flower with this poem, as was common at the time, because she specifically referenced “this flower,” as opposed to the original line in the poem in Saturday Night which says “that flower.” 

This poem is short, but the author was still able to convey a sense of deep longing through only a few lines. It begins by describing the flower in the first half of the poem as unremarkable, but with great meaning. In the second half, the poet expresses worry that the recipient will lose affection for her while they are separated. It is possible that Jane was having these same fears about Eliza and gave her the packet of poems to ensure her feelings would not be forgotten. 

Based on papers and correspondences from later in Eliza’s life, her friendship with Jane did not seem to last into adulthood. There are many letters, mostly dating from the 1830s-1860s, between Eliza and her childhood friends that survive, but there are none, save for the four poems, from Jane. Jane and her family are never mentioned in any letters in Schuyler Mansion’s collection, not even by Eliza’s siblings or friends, who often gave her the latest on their friends and acquaintances when she was out-of-town. Eliza eventually married her first cousin once-removed, George Lee Schuyler (1811-1890), in 1835. The couple had three children together, Philip, Louisa Lee, and Georgina. Eliza died in 1863, when she was only fifty-two years old.      

Jane herself was married on August 11, 1836, to John Swift, at Trinity Church in Manhattan. Trinity Church was attended by many of Manhattan’s famous politicians and the wealthiest members of society. Her marriage in the church marks her place among the elite. She was widowed in 1850 at the age of forty and took over the school upon her mother’s death in 1859. As of 1861, she was still noted as teaching at the school.      

Today, many people take for granted how easy it is to keep in contact with friends due to the prevalence of social media. For Jane and Eliza, exchanging letters, living in close proximity to one another, and moving in the same social circles were the main way of keeping in-touch. While Jane and Eliza seemed to lose touch as adults, at one point during their childhood, they had a very close relationship. Even though the girls did not keep in contact as adults, Eliza placed the four poems Jane gave her in her commonplace book and kept them until her death.  

(Below are the other two poems Jane gave to Eliza for you to enjoy!)  

                A Night on the Alps 

                      __________  

Come golden Evening! __ In the west 
Enthrone the storm dispelling sun, 
And let the triple rainbow rest 
O’er all the mountain tops; __ ‘tis done; 
The tempest ceases; bold and bright 
The rainbow shoots from hill to hill; 
Down sinks the sun; on prefses night; 
__ Mont Blanc is lovely still! 

                     ____________  

   There take thy stand, my spirit; __ spread 
The world of shadows at thy feet; 
And mark how calmly over head, 
The stars, like saints in glory meet; 
__ While, hid in solitude sublime, 
Methinks I muse on Nature’s tomb, 
And hear the pafsing foot of Time 
Step thro’ the silent gloom! 

 

             For a Turquoise Ring. 

Pure blue the Persian Turquoise shows, 
Thus in its native land it throws 
A light no other gem has given, 
A light so near resembling heaven, 
An anchorite would turn to blefs 
Its beauty in the wildernefs! 

Born for one land, no other soil 
Gives such reward to human toil; 
Golconda’s splendors blaze in vain, 
Nor dare the furnace heat sustain; 
The topaz dims its mellow light, 
The hand of art must make it bright. 

by Jessie Serfilippi and Kiera Fitzsimmons