| Notes |
- "A Link Among the Days", p 22, notes that Dr Archer was an Army Surgeon at Fort Monroe in 1936 when his daughter, Mary Frances Archer" married Frederick Deane Goodwin.
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Archer Family Records indicates that Robert Archer died in his 84th year
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From the records of Sally Goodwin Klein, a published copy of a poem written by Dr. Robert Archer was provided and is retyped below:
NIGHT AFTER CHRISTMAS
A Poem written by Dr. Robert Archer, Richmond VA
Dec 26, 1866
'Twas the night after Xmas, and all through the town,
The nurses were running, some up and some down.
The doctor was wanted, for a plague on Old Nick,
His visit had made all the little ones sick.
His cakes were so nice, and his pies were so sweet,
That from morning till night they did nothing but eat.
Their hearts were all light and peeped out of their eyes;
There stomachs were tight and chock full of mince pies.
They were as merry as larks, had no care for tomorrow,
Unmindful that joy is soon followed by sorrow.
The lights were all out, and the blinds were all closed;
Papa and Mamma in deep slumber reposed,
The cat on the hearth rug was licking her paws,
And seemed to be thinking of Old Santa Claus.
The fire in the chimney burned cheerful and bright,
And the frost on the panes shone like crystals of light.
The tea-kettle bubbling before the warm blaze
Was singing the dirge of once happier days.
The clock on the mantel had just sounded one,
And announced that another new day had begun,
When hark! from the nursery a solo of moans,
Then a duet of sobs, with a chorus of groans,
Broke in on the stillness and silence of night,
And threw the whole house in commotion and fright.
The mother's quick ear first encountered the sound;
She jumpted up in bed and sprang out with a bound;
Papa had oft witnessed such tumult before,
And the louder the groans, why, the louder he'd snore;
But oh, such a scene was ne'er witnessed before,
The children were rolling about on the floor !
The bed clothes were ruined, the carpet was spoiled,
And their pretty night dresses were rumpled and soiled.
The nurse all bewildered was fretting and grieving,
The children in concert were retching and heaving,
"Oh! me, I'm so sick, I shall die of this pain,
I'll never touch Santa Claus candy again!"
Poor Ma, in a flutter threw up her sad eyes,
Little Bob with a splutter threw up his mince pies,
And St. Nick, who was peeping, cried out with a titter,
"In everything sweet, there's a drop that is bitter,
But cheer up, my children, you'll soon be all right";
And cracking his whip he soon dashed out of sight.
The crisis was over and all went to bed,
Sweet slumber soon fell on each dizzy head;
The life blood again freely coursed in their veins,
And dreams of St Nicholas danced through their brains.
With a smile they awoke from their visions of bliss,
As Mamma on each rosy lip planted a kiss;
And they vowed that in spite of all sickness and pain,
They would hang up their stockings next Christmas again.
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1794 - 1877 (82 years)
[1] 
