Sweet Briar College - Briar Patch Yearbook (Sweet Briar, VA)

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D aisy Willi ams f f ITTLE can be said of the sixteen uneventful years of Daisy ' : j Williams ' life. Quietly and unobtrusively she lived with her x p} f ' ' ' ' ' ' ' 1 mother at Sweet Briar, growing as do the shy field r U| daisies, after whom she was called. Both Mr. and Mrs. Will- ■ iams were talented, cultured people, lavishing the wealth of their affection on their only child, Daisy, and desiring for her the best that educa- tion and money could give. They spent their winters in New York, but in the summer the beautiful home among the mountains of Virginia claimed them. And here all the memories of Daisy cluster, here it is that Daisy ' s spirit seems now to be felt. We hear of her as a studious, reticent child, spending much of her time alone or in the company of her elders, filling the round of happy days with simple home-like duties. With a wonderfully loving little heart and an unselfish disposition she de- lighted to go with her father, visiting the sick on the estate. Her sweet face and gentle courtesy were known and welcomed by the country side. The old darkies in the quarters loved her and many were the blessings that fell from their lips for Lil Miss Daisy. Often on early spring mornings could Mr. Williams and Daisy be seen riding together; her white pony trying to keep pace with his big black horse. At times, Mrs. Williams had to go to New York, leaving Daisy and her father alone together. In one of Daisy ' s earliest letters written to her mother, she says, This morning we took a long ride and the hills you know are forever the same, so there is nothing to say about it. There are a great many birds in the yard — mocking birds, thrushes, and the lovely red birds. And in a letter a week later, she writes, Papa and I have been up to the monument this morning. It is lovely there now, the dagger plants look very well, and have grown considerably. Surrounded as she was by all that was beautiful, she lived a sheltered, 7

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happy life, the lack of companions of her own age being filled by her passion for flowers, music, and books. Often m her letters to her mother does she talk of flowers or of some plant in whose growth she is interested. In a letter dated May 6th, 1883, she says, The magnolias came late last night. I have wet them well and will set them out soon to-morrow morning. There was a storm last night, so the ground is too wet to-day. They seem very nice, but are large. Then again on May 1 0th she writes, The apple orchard is in bloom. The apricots are killed. There is not a sign of a rosebud. The big roses near the little ones have grown so that they hang over them. Had they better be trimmed some? Daisy was passionately fond of music. Many and long were the hours she spent practicing. Once she wrote her mother, Do not forget the harp strings. The harp seems to have taken pity on me and does not break any strings, for which I am very glad. Her father and mother were also musical, and her harp at Sweet Briar House standing opposite the piano in the corner, can well make us imagine a happy picture of this musical family. For in the long summer afternoons, when the song of the mocking birds could be heard and the heavy perfume of roses came through the open windows, Mr. Will- iams would take his violin and Mrs. Williams accompanying on the piano, would call Daisy, this small figure with golden curls and lustrous eyes, to play on her harp between them. But perhaps more than she loved her flowers, more than even her music, she loved her books. On them she concentrated her attention and early became ambitious to do well at school. In a letter dated 1877, we read, I take my doll ' s slippers to school. I am going to try very hard to be a good girl; I am going to try to get good marks in school. During the months .spent in New York, she had private tutors, but at Sweet Briar there were times when such were hard to obtain; then it was that her father used to take her over to Ken- more Academy, near Amherst, for instruction in German and French. Of her German, she writes to her mother, The German exercises are hard and long, and I only do two or three at a lesson. I have got to those dreadful verbs that you split in pieces; the last part has to fit in somewhere at the beginning and the first somewhere at the end, and I never fit them in where they belong. I never liked puzzles, and the verbs are just like them, but I suppose it is easy 8