In the late 1700s, Thomas, an Englishman, was appointed by England to be Director of Royal Fabrics in Portugal.
It is interesting to note that in Portugal, in 1798, Francisco Joaquim Moreira de Sa was preparing to build a paper factory in Cascalheira, alongside the River Vizela. It was only completed in 1802, and then began manufacturing paper from wood paste under the guidance of Britain's Thomas Bishop.
Thomas, and his family, left Portugal in 1810 to escape the Napoleonic War. The Portugese City of Oporto had been sacked by the French Army. The Bishop Family sailed to the United States and arrived at the Port of Baltimore, Maryland in 1810.
In the 1810 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household of the family in Queen Anne's County in Maryland. In 1811, when the United States conflict with Great Britain threatened the American coastline, the family moved to Philadelphia.
In the 1816 Philadelphia City Directory (PCD) Thomas Bishop, an enamel painter is listed at 133 South 11th.
In the 1825 PCD T. Bishop, an artist is listed at Locust, 2 doors below Dean Street.
In the 1830 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household in the Locust Ward of Philadelphia in Philadelphia County, Pennsylvania.
In the 1830 and 1835 Philadelphia City Directories, Thomas Bishop, a painter is listed as living at the NE Corner of Dean and Locust.
The following is an excerpt from a book written by John Sartain (1808-1897), a well known Philadelphia artist, and a friend of both Edgar Allan Poe, and Thomas Bishop:
REMINISCENCES OF A VERY OLD MAN 1808-1897. BY JOHN SARTAIN
CHAPTER XII
"In 1833 I became acquainted with Thomas Bishop, the painter in enamel, who at that time resided but a short distance from where I lived. He was very old, a good deal past eighty, but was yet singularly robust. One day I saw him in the street walking towards me, and felt surprised at his firm steps, almost strides, and his large figure filling the eye as he approached. Yet when sitting in conversation he looked aged, almost feeble; his thin, delicate features, aquiline nose, gray and sparkling eye are so distinctly impressed on my memory that it seems but as yesterday. I was with him a good deal of an evening, because he pressed me so earnestly to come, and when I failed he complained almost reproachfully, so that I felt constrained to go, whether I ought to have been elsewhere or not.
Thus I came to learn much of his eventful history, for he had lived in France, England, and Portugal as well as America, and during stirring times. He resided in Paris at the breaking out of the first French Revolution in 1789. He had studied medicine, and had also learned the art of painting in enamel while there. But the turmoil of the struggle in Paris drove him away and he returned to London, the place of his birth.
Had I asked questions or shown curiosity he would have told me everything unreservedly about his life in London, but my habit was to sit quiet and simply listen to whatever he chose to say. One very serious story he told me. An acquaintance of his, a frequent visitor at his house, induced him to undertake the collection of money due him in distant parts of England. On Bishop's return he found his home desolate, his wife, his friend, and most of what he possessed were gone, he knew not whither. The moneys he had collected about balanced his pecuniary losses, but what on earth could console him for the other void ? Many years afterwards he heard of his wife again and learned that she had died miserably.
As his life in Paris had been broken up by the rising of the French people against their oppressors, so afterwards in Portugal his peace was again disturbed by the inroad of the all-conquering armies of the Emperor Napoleon. This time he did not return to London, but availed himself of an opportunity that presented of sailing to America, landed at Philadelphia, and made his home in Germantown. I think it was while there that he was received into the Society of Friends, with whom he remained associated until his death.
During my intimacy with him a most remarkable incident occurred. Thomas Bishop painted in enamel, as I have already said, and I frequently saw many of his productions in this line. Among them were two of such exquisite beauty that I always doubted that they were, as he claimed, his own work, the rest were all so far inferior to them. One was a copy after Boucher of two children, boy and girl, playing shepherd and shepherdess.
The other was an upright oval of a female figure seated by a fountain, the body nude, with a reddish-brown drapery thrown across the lap. This Venus, as it was called, was of such striking and wonderful beauty that no one who had once seen it could ever forget it. Mr. James McMurtrie wanted to buy it, but the hundred dollars he offered was only one-fifth the price asked.
An American in Paris remarked to a Mr. Bishop living there that he knew a namesake of his in Philadelphia, a very old man, who possessed an enamel of a Venus, the most beautiful thing of the kind he had ever seen in the course of his life. This was startling information, for Mr. Bishop remembered such an enamel in the possession of his father, of whom he had heard nothing for half a century. A few questions fixed the identity beyond the shadow of a doubt. He hastened across the ocean in search of his long-lost parent, and the artist embraced as a white-haired man the lamented son who had disappeared as a child in the flight from the Reign of Terror; and this gladsome reunion was brought about by a little painting only two inches long.
Mr. Bishop's circle of acquaintance was rather limited, but it included old Dr. Abercrombie, whom I knew before I met Bishop. He lived at that time in a brick house dark with age, of a most singular style of architecture, situated on the south side of Union Street, a few doors east of Fourth, which has long since disappeared. During a severe illness of Mr. Bishop, Dr. Abercrombie and I each called every morning to inquire after his condition, and as regularly expected to hear that all was over. I of course discreetly suppressed the surprise I felt at his lingering so long, but it seems Dr. Abercrombie was not always so careful. Mrs. Bishop told me one day that he had hurt her feelings very much. On hearing the usual report he had exclaimed, "What! not dead yet?" He continued, "Well, I am not able to come any more, but I shall be glad if you will let me know when he dies. He and I are old friends, and I should like to attend his funeral." It turned out very curiously that he never had the opportunity to follow him to his grave. Bishop revived and got well, and it was he who attended Abercrombie's funeral.
In A. McElroy's 1839 Philadelphia Directory and the 1840 PCD Thomas Bishop, a painter and daughter Angelica Bishop, a portrait painter, and son Joaquim Bishop are listed as living at 213 Cherry Street.
In the 1840 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household, living with his wife, Tamsen, in the South Mulberry Ward of Philadelphia.
The following obituary was published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger for Wednesday, July 15, 1840, page 3:
"On the 13th inst., after a lingering illness, Dr. Thomas Bishop, in the 92d year of his age.
"His friends and acquaintances, and those of the family, are respectfully invited to attend his funeral, from his late residence, Cherry Street, 6 doors above Ninth, north side, this afternoon, at 4 o'clock, without further notice."
It is interesting to note that in Portugal, in 1798, Francisco Joaquim Moreira de Sa was preparing to build a paper factory in Cascalheira, alongside the River Vizela. It was only completed in 1802, and then began manufacturing paper from wood paste under the guidance of Britain's Thomas Bishop.
Thomas, and his family, left Portugal in 1810 to escape the Napoleonic War. The Portugese City of Oporto had been sacked by the French Army. The Bishop Family sailed to the United States and arrived at the Port of Baltimore, Maryland in 1810.
In the 1810 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household of the family in Queen Anne's County in Maryland. In 1811, when the United States conflict with Great Britain threatened the American coastline, the family moved to Philadelphia.
In the 1816 Philadelphia City Directory (PCD) Thomas Bishop, an enamel painter is listed at 133 South 11th.
In the 1825 PCD T. Bishop, an artist is listed at Locust, 2 doors below Dean Street.
In the 1830 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household in the Locust Ward of Philadelphia in Philadelphia County, Pennsylvania.
In the 1830 and 1835 Philadelphia City Directories, Thomas Bishop, a painter is listed as living at the NE Corner of Dean and Locust.
The following is an excerpt from a book written by John Sartain (1808-1897), a well known Philadelphia artist, and a friend of both Edgar Allan Poe, and Thomas Bishop:
REMINISCENCES OF A VERY OLD MAN 1808-1897. BY JOHN SARTAIN
CHAPTER XII
"In 1833 I became acquainted with Thomas Bishop, the painter in enamel, who at that time resided but a short distance from where I lived. He was very old, a good deal past eighty, but was yet singularly robust. One day I saw him in the street walking towards me, and felt surprised at his firm steps, almost strides, and his large figure filling the eye as he approached. Yet when sitting in conversation he looked aged, almost feeble; his thin, delicate features, aquiline nose, gray and sparkling eye are so distinctly impressed on my memory that it seems but as yesterday. I was with him a good deal of an evening, because he pressed me so earnestly to come, and when I failed he complained almost reproachfully, so that I felt constrained to go, whether I ought to have been elsewhere or not.
Thus I came to learn much of his eventful history, for he had lived in France, England, and Portugal as well as America, and during stirring times. He resided in Paris at the breaking out of the first French Revolution in 1789. He had studied medicine, and had also learned the art of painting in enamel while there. But the turmoil of the struggle in Paris drove him away and he returned to London, the place of his birth.
Had I asked questions or shown curiosity he would have told me everything unreservedly about his life in London, but my habit was to sit quiet and simply listen to whatever he chose to say. One very serious story he told me. An acquaintance of his, a frequent visitor at his house, induced him to undertake the collection of money due him in distant parts of England. On Bishop's return he found his home desolate, his wife, his friend, and most of what he possessed were gone, he knew not whither. The moneys he had collected about balanced his pecuniary losses, but what on earth could console him for the other void ? Many years afterwards he heard of his wife again and learned that she had died miserably.
As his life in Paris had been broken up by the rising of the French people against their oppressors, so afterwards in Portugal his peace was again disturbed by the inroad of the all-conquering armies of the Emperor Napoleon. This time he did not return to London, but availed himself of an opportunity that presented of sailing to America, landed at Philadelphia, and made his home in Germantown. I think it was while there that he was received into the Society of Friends, with whom he remained associated until his death.
During my intimacy with him a most remarkable incident occurred. Thomas Bishop painted in enamel, as I have already said, and I frequently saw many of his productions in this line. Among them were two of such exquisite beauty that I always doubted that they were, as he claimed, his own work, the rest were all so far inferior to them. One was a copy after Boucher of two children, boy and girl, playing shepherd and shepherdess.
The other was an upright oval of a female figure seated by a fountain, the body nude, with a reddish-brown drapery thrown across the lap. This Venus, as it was called, was of such striking and wonderful beauty that no one who had once seen it could ever forget it. Mr. James McMurtrie wanted to buy it, but the hundred dollars he offered was only one-fifth the price asked.
An American in Paris remarked to a Mr. Bishop living there that he knew a namesake of his in Philadelphia, a very old man, who possessed an enamel of a Venus, the most beautiful thing of the kind he had ever seen in the course of his life. This was startling information, for Mr. Bishop remembered such an enamel in the possession of his father, of whom he had heard nothing for half a century. A few questions fixed the identity beyond the shadow of a doubt. He hastened across the ocean in search of his long-lost parent, and the artist embraced as a white-haired man the lamented son who had disappeared as a child in the flight from the Reign of Terror; and this gladsome reunion was brought about by a little painting only two inches long.
Mr. Bishop's circle of acquaintance was rather limited, but it included old Dr. Abercrombie, whom I knew before I met Bishop. He lived at that time in a brick house dark with age, of a most singular style of architecture, situated on the south side of Union Street, a few doors east of Fourth, which has long since disappeared. During a severe illness of Mr. Bishop, Dr. Abercrombie and I each called every morning to inquire after his condition, and as regularly expected to hear that all was over. I of course discreetly suppressed the surprise I felt at his lingering so long, but it seems Dr. Abercrombie was not always so careful. Mrs. Bishop told me one day that he had hurt her feelings very much. On hearing the usual report he had exclaimed, "What! not dead yet?" He continued, "Well, I am not able to come any more, but I shall be glad if you will let me know when he dies. He and I are old friends, and I should like to attend his funeral." It turned out very curiously that he never had the opportunity to follow him to his grave. Bishop revived and got well, and it was he who attended Abercrombie's funeral.
In A. McElroy's 1839 Philadelphia Directory and the 1840 PCD Thomas Bishop, a painter and daughter Angelica Bishop, a portrait painter, and son Joaquim Bishop are listed as living at 213 Cherry Street.
In the 1840 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household, living with his wife, Tamsen, in the South Mulberry Ward of Philadelphia.
The following obituary was published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger for Wednesday, July 15, 1840, page 3:
"On the 13th inst., after a lingering illness, Dr. Thomas Bishop, in the 92d year of his age.
"His friends and acquaintances, and those of the family, are respectfully invited to attend his funeral, from his late residence, Cherry Street, 6 doors above Ninth, north side, this afternoon, at 4 o'clock, without further notice."
In the late 1700s, Thomas, an Englishman, was appointed by England to be Director of Royal Fabrics in Portugal.
It is interesting to note that in Portugal, in 1798, Francisco Joaquim Moreira de Sa was preparing to build a paper factory in Cascalheira, alongside the River Vizela. It was only completed in 1802, and then began manufacturing paper from wood paste under the guidance of Britain's Thomas Bishop.
Thomas, and his family, left Portugal in 1810 to escape the Napoleonic War. The Portugese City of Oporto had been sacked by the French Army. The Bishop Family sailed to the United States and arrived at the Port of Baltimore, Maryland in 1810.
In the 1810 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household of the family in Queen Anne's County in Maryland. In 1811, when the United States conflict with Great Britain threatened the American coastline, the family moved to Philadelphia.
In the 1816 Philadelphia City Directory (PCD) Thomas Bishop, an enamel painter is listed at 133 South 11th.
In the 1825 PCD T. Bishop, an artist is listed at Locust, 2 doors below Dean Street.
In the 1830 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household in the Locust Ward of Philadelphia in Philadelphia County, Pennsylvania.
In the 1830 and 1835 Philadelphia City Directories, Thomas Bishop, a painter is listed as living at the NE Corner of Dean and Locust.
The following is an excerpt from a book written by John Sartain (1808-1897), a well known Philadelphia artist, and a friend of both Edgar Allan Poe, and Thomas Bishop:
REMINISCENCES OF A VERY OLD MAN 1808-1897. BY JOHN SARTAIN
CHAPTER XII
"In 1833 I became acquainted with Thomas Bishop, the painter in enamel, who at that time resided but a short distance from where I lived. He was very old, a good deal past eighty, but was yet singularly robust. One day I saw him in the street walking towards me, and felt surprised at his firm steps, almost strides, and his large figure filling the eye as he approached. Yet when sitting in conversation he looked aged, almost feeble; his thin, delicate features, aquiline nose, gray and sparkling eye are so distinctly impressed on my memory that it seems but as yesterday. I was with him a good deal of an evening, because he pressed me so earnestly to come, and when I failed he complained almost reproachfully, so that I felt constrained to go, whether I ought to have been elsewhere or not.
Thus I came to learn much of his eventful history, for he had lived in France, England, and Portugal as well as America, and during stirring times. He resided in Paris at the breaking out of the first French Revolution in 1789. He had studied medicine, and had also learned the art of painting in enamel while there. But the turmoil of the struggle in Paris drove him away and he returned to London, the place of his birth.
Had I asked questions or shown curiosity he would have told me everything unreservedly about his life in London, but my habit was to sit quiet and simply listen to whatever he chose to say. One very serious story he told me. An acquaintance of his, a frequent visitor at his house, induced him to undertake the collection of money due him in distant parts of England. On Bishop's return he found his home desolate, his wife, his friend, and most of what he possessed were gone, he knew not whither. The moneys he had collected about balanced his pecuniary losses, but what on earth could console him for the other void ? Many years afterwards he heard of his wife again and learned that she had died miserably.
As his life in Paris had been broken up by the rising of the French people against their oppressors, so afterwards in Portugal his peace was again disturbed by the inroad of the all-conquering armies of the Emperor Napoleon. This time he did not return to London, but availed himself of an opportunity that presented of sailing to America, landed at Philadelphia, and made his home in Germantown. I think it was while there that he was received into the Society of Friends, with whom he remained associated until his death.
During my intimacy with him a most remarkable incident occurred. Thomas Bishop painted in enamel, as I have already said, and I frequently saw many of his productions in this line. Among them were two of such exquisite beauty that I always doubted that they were, as he claimed, his own work, the rest were all so far inferior to them. One was a copy after Boucher of two children, boy and girl, playing shepherd and shepherdess.
The other was an upright oval of a female figure seated by a fountain, the body nude, with a reddish-brown drapery thrown across the lap. This Venus, as it was called, was of such striking and wonderful beauty that no one who had once seen it could ever forget it. Mr. James McMurtrie wanted to buy it, but the hundred dollars he offered was only one-fifth the price asked.
An American in Paris remarked to a Mr. Bishop living there that he knew a namesake of his in Philadelphia, a very old man, who possessed an enamel of a Venus, the most beautiful thing of the kind he had ever seen in the course of his life. This was startling information, for Mr. Bishop remembered such an enamel in the possession of his father, of whom he had heard nothing for half a century. A few questions fixed the identity beyond the shadow of a doubt. He hastened across the ocean in search of his long-lost parent, and the artist embraced as a white-haired man the lamented son who had disappeared as a child in the flight from the Reign of Terror; and this gladsome reunion was brought about by a little painting only two inches long.
Mr. Bishop's circle of acquaintance was rather limited, but it included old Dr. Abercrombie, whom I knew before I met Bishop. He lived at that time in a brick house dark with age, of a most singular style of architecture, situated on the south side of Union Street, a few doors east of Fourth, which has long since disappeared. During a severe illness of Mr. Bishop, Dr. Abercrombie and I each called every morning to inquire after his condition, and as regularly expected to hear that all was over. I of course discreetly suppressed the surprise I felt at his lingering so long, but it seems Dr. Abercrombie was not always so careful. Mrs. Bishop told me one day that he had hurt her feelings very much. On hearing the usual report he had exclaimed, "What! not dead yet?" He continued, "Well, I am not able to come any more, but I shall be glad if you will let me know when he dies. He and I are old friends, and I should like to attend his funeral." It turned out very curiously that he never had the opportunity to follow him to his grave. Bishop revived and got well, and it was he who attended Abercrombie's funeral.
In A. McElroy's 1839 Philadelphia Directory and the 1840 PCD Thomas Bishop, a painter and daughter Angelica Bishop, a portrait painter, and son Joaquim Bishop are listed as living at 213 Cherry Street.
In the 1840 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household, living with his wife, Tamsen, in the South Mulberry Ward of Philadelphia.
The following obituary was published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger for Wednesday, July 15, 1840, page 3:
"On the 13th inst., after a lingering illness, Dr. Thomas Bishop, in the 92d year of his age.
"His friends and acquaintances, and those of the family, are respectfully invited to attend his funeral, from his late residence, Cherry Street, 6 doors above Ninth, north side, this afternoon, at 4 o'clock, without further notice."
It is interesting to note that in Portugal, in 1798, Francisco Joaquim Moreira de Sa was preparing to build a paper factory in Cascalheira, alongside the River Vizela. It was only completed in 1802, and then began manufacturing paper from wood paste under the guidance of Britain's Thomas Bishop.
Thomas, and his family, left Portugal in 1810 to escape the Napoleonic War. The Portugese City of Oporto had been sacked by the French Army. The Bishop Family sailed to the United States and arrived at the Port of Baltimore, Maryland in 1810.
In the 1810 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household of the family in Queen Anne's County in Maryland. In 1811, when the United States conflict with Great Britain threatened the American coastline, the family moved to Philadelphia.
In the 1816 Philadelphia City Directory (PCD) Thomas Bishop, an enamel painter is listed at 133 South 11th.
In the 1825 PCD T. Bishop, an artist is listed at Locust, 2 doors below Dean Street.
In the 1830 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household in the Locust Ward of Philadelphia in Philadelphia County, Pennsylvania.
In the 1830 and 1835 Philadelphia City Directories, Thomas Bishop, a painter is listed as living at the NE Corner of Dean and Locust.
The following is an excerpt from a book written by John Sartain (1808-1897), a well known Philadelphia artist, and a friend of both Edgar Allan Poe, and Thomas Bishop:
REMINISCENCES OF A VERY OLD MAN 1808-1897. BY JOHN SARTAIN
CHAPTER XII
"In 1833 I became acquainted with Thomas Bishop, the painter in enamel, who at that time resided but a short distance from where I lived. He was very old, a good deal past eighty, but was yet singularly robust. One day I saw him in the street walking towards me, and felt surprised at his firm steps, almost strides, and his large figure filling the eye as he approached. Yet when sitting in conversation he looked aged, almost feeble; his thin, delicate features, aquiline nose, gray and sparkling eye are so distinctly impressed on my memory that it seems but as yesterday. I was with him a good deal of an evening, because he pressed me so earnestly to come, and when I failed he complained almost reproachfully, so that I felt constrained to go, whether I ought to have been elsewhere or not.
Thus I came to learn much of his eventful history, for he had lived in France, England, and Portugal as well as America, and during stirring times. He resided in Paris at the breaking out of the first French Revolution in 1789. He had studied medicine, and had also learned the art of painting in enamel while there. But the turmoil of the struggle in Paris drove him away and he returned to London, the place of his birth.
Had I asked questions or shown curiosity he would have told me everything unreservedly about his life in London, but my habit was to sit quiet and simply listen to whatever he chose to say. One very serious story he told me. An acquaintance of his, a frequent visitor at his house, induced him to undertake the collection of money due him in distant parts of England. On Bishop's return he found his home desolate, his wife, his friend, and most of what he possessed were gone, he knew not whither. The moneys he had collected about balanced his pecuniary losses, but what on earth could console him for the other void ? Many years afterwards he heard of his wife again and learned that she had died miserably.
As his life in Paris had been broken up by the rising of the French people against their oppressors, so afterwards in Portugal his peace was again disturbed by the inroad of the all-conquering armies of the Emperor Napoleon. This time he did not return to London, but availed himself of an opportunity that presented of sailing to America, landed at Philadelphia, and made his home in Germantown. I think it was while there that he was received into the Society of Friends, with whom he remained associated until his death.
During my intimacy with him a most remarkable incident occurred. Thomas Bishop painted in enamel, as I have already said, and I frequently saw many of his productions in this line. Among them were two of such exquisite beauty that I always doubted that they were, as he claimed, his own work, the rest were all so far inferior to them. One was a copy after Boucher of two children, boy and girl, playing shepherd and shepherdess.
The other was an upright oval of a female figure seated by a fountain, the body nude, with a reddish-brown drapery thrown across the lap. This Venus, as it was called, was of such striking and wonderful beauty that no one who had once seen it could ever forget it. Mr. James McMurtrie wanted to buy it, but the hundred dollars he offered was only one-fifth the price asked.
An American in Paris remarked to a Mr. Bishop living there that he knew a namesake of his in Philadelphia, a very old man, who possessed an enamel of a Venus, the most beautiful thing of the kind he had ever seen in the course of his life. This was startling information, for Mr. Bishop remembered such an enamel in the possession of his father, of whom he had heard nothing for half a century. A few questions fixed the identity beyond the shadow of a doubt. He hastened across the ocean in search of his long-lost parent, and the artist embraced as a white-haired man the lamented son who had disappeared as a child in the flight from the Reign of Terror; and this gladsome reunion was brought about by a little painting only two inches long.
Mr. Bishop's circle of acquaintance was rather limited, but it included old Dr. Abercrombie, whom I knew before I met Bishop. He lived at that time in a brick house dark with age, of a most singular style of architecture, situated on the south side of Union Street, a few doors east of Fourth, which has long since disappeared. During a severe illness of Mr. Bishop, Dr. Abercrombie and I each called every morning to inquire after his condition, and as regularly expected to hear that all was over. I of course discreetly suppressed the surprise I felt at his lingering so long, but it seems Dr. Abercrombie was not always so careful. Mrs. Bishop told me one day that he had hurt her feelings very much. On hearing the usual report he had exclaimed, "What! not dead yet?" He continued, "Well, I am not able to come any more, but I shall be glad if you will let me know when he dies. He and I are old friends, and I should like to attend his funeral." It turned out very curiously that he never had the opportunity to follow him to his grave. Bishop revived and got well, and it was he who attended Abercrombie's funeral.
In A. McElroy's 1839 Philadelphia Directory and the 1840 PCD Thomas Bishop, a painter and daughter Angelica Bishop, a portrait painter, and son Joaquim Bishop are listed as living at 213 Cherry Street.
In the 1840 US Census, Thomas Bishop is listed as Head of Household, living with his wife, Tamsen, in the South Mulberry Ward of Philadelphia.
The following obituary was published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger for Wednesday, July 15, 1840, page 3:
"On the 13th inst., after a lingering illness, Dr. Thomas Bishop, in the 92d year of his age.
"His friends and acquaintances, and those of the family, are respectfully invited to attend his funeral, from his late residence, Cherry Street, 6 doors above Ninth, north side, this afternoon, at 4 o'clock, without further notice."
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