In his youth he had contracted the habit of drinking to excess, beside
that of gambling, horse-racing and the like, which followed him through
life. Forgotten and scorned in his poverty by many who had partaken of his
abundance, sipped his wine, and rode his fast horses.

During the last war his princely mansion was ever open to the officers of
the army, and many a wounded soldier has been cheered and comforted by his
hospitality. But now he is regarded as no better than his poorest slave,
and lies as lowly as they, in the narrow house appointed for all the
living.

My old master had two brothers: the oldest, Thomas Helm, was a Captain in
the United States Army, and had been in many hard-fought battles. His
younger brother, William, was a Captain also; but Thomas was the man to
awaken curiosity. I have lived with him, but never knew of his going
unarmed for an hour, until he left Virginia and came to Steuben County,
where he died. When at the South, I have seen strangers approach him, but
they were invariably commanded to "stand" and to "approach him at their
peril." He finally came to the State of New York, bringing with him his
"woman" with whom he lived, and two children, with whom he settled on a
piece of land given him by my old master, where the old soldier lived,
died, and was buried on one of his small "clearings" under an old apple
tree. He owned a few slaves, but at his death his "woman" collected every
thing she could, and among the rest, two or three slave children, to whom
she had no right or claim whatever, and made her way to Kentucky. About a
year ago I visited the spot where the brave old defender of his country
had been buried, but found very little to mark the resting place of the
brother of my old master. They had passed away. Their wealth, power and
bravery had come to nought; and no tribute was now paid to the memory of
one of "Old Virginia's best families." The _blood_ of which they were wont