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DURHAM LIBRARY ASSOCIATION
THE
(> y^ u - 6
GRANITE MONTHLY.
@ Qteio ^ampB^iu Ofha^a^int^
'Devoted to History, "Biography, Literature, and
State Trogress.
VOLUME X.
CONCORD, N. H. :
JOHN N. McCLINTOCK,
EDITOR AND PUBLISHER.
1887.
N
fi759
V, 10
CONTENTS OF VOLUME X.
PAGE
John Rand. Rev. C. W. Wallace, D. D 1
One of Gov. Wentworth's Last Official Acts. Hon. John Wentworth, LL. D. . 6
Localities in Ancient Dover. Part II. John R. Ham, M. D 7, 54
A Jail Adventure. William O. Clough 13
Early Manners and Customs. Mary R. P. Hatch 23
The Old North Church of Concord 27
Abraham Liucohi —
Address of Hon. Charles H. Sawyer 33
" Capt. H. B. Atherton 34
" Col. Daniel Hall 36
" Charles R. Corning 39
" Hon. Charles H. Burns 41
New Hampshire State Senate 49
The Christie Family. Edwin Salter 52
Dr. Brewer's Address 58
Matthew Harvey. C. C. Lord 60
Asquam Lake and its Environs. Fred Myron Colby 68
Book Notices 80
Hon. Aretas Blood 81
Windham, N. H. Leonard A. Morrison 86, 248, 280, 296
Ethel Freeman. Ellen M. Mason 89, 136
Lisbon, N. H 95
The Annulling of the Commission of Stephen Peabody. Levi W. Dodge . 102
Phillips Exeter Academy. Herman W. Stevens 104
Campton, N. H 108
Settlement of St. John, N. B. Edwin Salter 109
C. C. Briggs 113
Higgins Brothers Co 117
Gen. John Stark. Gen. George Stark 121
A Down East Homer. Isaac B. Choate 142
Christ Chm-ch. Annie Wentworth Baer 146, 1.59
The First Excursion. P. B. Shillaber 149
Publishers' Department 153, 190
Hon. Ezra ScoUay Stearns. Charles R. Corning 157
Birthplace of Gen. Henry Dearborn. John Wentworth, LL. D. . . , 164
Historical Sketch of West Dunstable. Charles S. Spaulding .... 165
Literature, Quaint and Curious. L. E. D 168
The Gull Rock 171
Contents.
Tuftonbor
Alice Freeze Durgin
ough
C. S
Spauldiu
Lake Winnipiseogee in October. Fred Myron Colby
Edward Gove's Insurrection of 1683 — The Second American Rebellion.
Sanborn ......
How Polly Came Home. Clara Augusta .
Hon. John C. Linehan .....
New Hampshire in 1784 ....
Hon. William E. Chandler ....
Our Boarding-House. Ai'thur E. Cotton .
New Hampshire Authors. Arthur E. Cotton
The Residence of Counsellor Peter Livius at
worth, LL. D. ....
The Pinkham Notch. Persis F. Chase
To an Out-Bound Ship ....
Hon. Daniel Clark. Hon. Isaac W. Smith
Joseph Emerson Dow. Hon. A. S. Batchellor, A. M.
S. Paul's School
The Northern Volunteer. Col. T. L. Livermore
Unread.
Hon. Alvin Burleigh
Incidents Connected with the History of Lempster, N. H.
The Founding of Dartmouth College. Harry Stearns
The Free High School. Frances M. Abbott
African Notes. A. A. Woodbridge ....
Good-Bye. C. C. Lord ......
Love and Theology .......
Hon. Amos J. Blake
Major Waldron. Winfield S. Jameson
James T. Fields. Olive E. Dana ....
Campaspe. C. Jennie Swaine
Whitefield, N. H. Levi W. Dodge ....
Origin and Meaning of Proper Names. E. D. Sanborn, LL. D
Among the Haymakers. Arthur E. Cotton
Boundary Line. Nelson Spoffard ....
New Hampshire Men in Michigan. Mary M. Culver
Fifth Avenvie Hotel
October. Mary R. P. Hatch
Intolerance in New Hampshire. M. V. B. Knox, Ph. D.
Literary Notes
Winter Idyl,
Hon. William Dennis Weeks. J. S. Brackett
The First New England " Witch." Willard H. Morse, M
The Massacre of Glencoe. Horace Eaton Walker
About the Names of M oosilauke and Some Other Places.
Lake 'Squam. Fred Myi-on Colby ....
Hon. Mason W. Tappan
Daniel Webster. W. C. Sturoc
Reminiscences of the Sunny South. Lucinda Chandler
Champlain ; A Ballad of 1609. Mary H. Wheeler .
Inventors as Martyrs to Science. Kate Sanborn
Index
J. C.
John Went-
D.
WiUiam Little
239,
301.
173
185
188
191
194
206
212
214
218
220
221
223
229
233
257
254
255
267.
268
270'
275
285
286
287
289
290
294
298
366
307
309
313
317
325
326
331
333
344
347
354
357
365
375
376
377
383
384
399
THE
RANITE neNTHLY,
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
^Devoted to Literature, 'Biography, History, and State Progress.
Vol. X.
JANUARY, 1887.
No. I,
JOHN
By Rev. C. W.
Rand is a name of French origin.
It was formally written Rande. So
far as known, the first of the name in
this country settled in Charlestown,
Mass. Rev. John Rand, the grand-
father of the subject of this sketch,
was born in that town January 24,
1727 ; was graduated at Harvard col-
lege in 1747, and settled in Lynde-
borough, N. H., in 1761, as the first
Congregational minister in that place.
Soon after, he married Sarah, daugh-
ter of Col. John Goffe, of Derryfield
(now Manchester), N. H., and in
1765 removed to that town, and seems
to have relinquished the work of the
ministry. He received the commis-
sion of justice of the peace under
George the Third, and removed to
Bedford, N. H., in 1778, which con-
tinued to be his residence until his
death in 1805, at the age of 77. He
was the father of seven children.
The eldest, John and Jonathan, twins,
were born at Lyndeborough June 24,
1762. Jonathan married Sarah Ab-
bott, daughter of Dea. Ephraim Ab-
bott, of Amherst, now Mont Vernon,
a family long distinguished for its
RAND.
Wallace, D. D.
evangelical faith and devoted piety.
They had eight children — three sons
and five daughters — among them,
John, whose life we notice, the fourth
child and second son. He was born
Jan. 27, 1801, in Bedford, N. H.,
and spent his boyhood on his father's
farm, receiving only such limited
education as the country school then
afforded, of from eight to twelve
weeks during the year. He never
enjoyed the advantages of a high
school or academy. When about
eighteen vears of age he left the farm
and entered as an apprentice the shop
of Mr. Robert Parker, in his native
town, to learn the trade of cabinet-
making. At that time, in the country,
house and sign painting were often
united in the same business. Mr.
Rand became a workman in both
branches, for he was a man who
could very readily adapt himself to
almost -any handicraft. Soon after
his majority he went into business
for himself. He also introduced
some machinery, not common sixty
years ago, in the manufacture of fur-
niture. But although he was a good
Jo/ni Rand.
workman and very industrious, yet
he could not manage business. In
less than three years he found him-
self hopelessly in debt. His shop
passed into other hands, and he grad-
ually turned to what proved to be the
great work of his life — portrait paint-
ing. While he was an apprentice,
there came into the neighborhood a
man by the name of Morse, the same
who afterwards became so distin-
guished as the inventor of the mag-
netic telegraph. He had studied un-
der West, in Europe. While Morse
never excelled as a portrait painter,
yet he awakened in Mr. Rand the idea
which had before lain dormant, — that
of becoming an artist in the depart-
ment of portrait painting. From this
time, every leisure moment and much
thought were given to this favorite
and chosen pursuit of his life. The
writer well recollects having heard
Mr. Rand say, " I am willing to give
my life to be a painter."
After remaining a few years in the
country, and dividing his time be-
tween portrait and ornamental and
sign painting, perhaps because the
latter was more immediatel}' remuner-
ative, he went to Boston and opened
a studio on Cornhill. Having re-
mained there for some years, bending
all his energies to the one purpose of
his life, he travelled into the Southern
states, everywhere prosecuting his
work.
Having arrived at a good degree of
proficiency in his chosen profession,
he sailed for Europe, where, for
twelve years, mostly in London,
though for a time in Paris, he contin-
ued with enthusiasm both the study
and the practice of his art, until he
had arrived at such a degree of per-
fection that he had few living supe-
riors.
During his residence in Europe,
perhaps on the principle that neces-
sity is the mother of invention, his
attention was called to the manner in
which pigments were preserved. The
first we learn of such preparation, the
paints when ground in oil were tied
up in small parcels of prepared blad-
der, or something that would exclude
the air. Afterwards tinfoil was used
in the form of a tube. This was an
improvement : still the paints, as
soon as opened, would begin to dry,
and thus inconvenience and waste
were the result. Mr. Rand, feeling
the need of a better mode of preserv-
ing artists' colors, gave thought to
the subject ; and the tube fastened
with a screw, now in common use on
both sides of the Atlantic, was the
result. Few artists of our day, as
they mix their colors on the palette,
are aware to whom they are indebted
for this very great convenience. Mr.
Rand secured a patent for his inven-
tion in England ; I think also in
France and America. For a time he
received quite a royalty for the use
of his invention, enough to have
made him independent ; but, alas ! he
could not escape the fatality which
attends so many men whose inven-
tions have blest the world. At the
time when his patent was fast secur-
ing the patronage of artists, and he
was receiving a fair remuneration for
its use, a man from America, with
letters of introduction, appeared at
his studio in London. He came to
introduce and sell a recent invention
of his, known as the teolian attach-
ment to the pianoforte. He had sold
the patent in America for one hun-
'John Rand.
dred and ten thousand dollars. He
hoped to meet with similar success in
England. Mr. Rand received him
most cordially, invited him to his
home, and offered any service he
could render. The gentleman wished
to be introduced to some leading
musicians in the city, and Mr. Rand
complied with his request. They ex-
amined his instrument, and at once
pronounced it a failure, saying, " No
doubt it is new to you, but it is an old
invention. It has been tried in this
country, but, owing to the different
effects of the atmosphere upon the
string and the pipe, the instrument is
constantly getting out of tune, and
unless this difficulty has been over-
come, the invention must prove a
failure." The inventor was discour-
aged, but not inclined to admit the
correctness of the statement. He re-
quested a further examination, which
■was granted, and repeated many
times during a period of several
weeks. As a result, Mr. Rand said
he noticed that while one of the men
who at first pronounced the invention
a failure adhered most firmly to his
opinion, the other gradually yielded,
and, after repeated trials, concluded
that the atmospheric difficulty had
been overcome, and the instrument,
therefore, a success. Notwithstand-
ing, however, this hearty endorse-
ment, the man failed to make a sale
of his patent. To the great increase
of his embarrassment, letters were re-
ceived, as he affirmed, from America,
rendering it indispensable for him to
return home at once. In his dilemma
he begged Mr. Rand to purchase his
patent, offering to take a merely
nominal sum as compared with the
fabulous amount which at first he de-
manded. Mr. Rand, knowing noth-
ing of music, but trusting to the
honesty of his friend, and placing
implicit confidence in the distinguish-
ed musician, who, after repeated
trials, had changed his first doubtful
opinion to one of certainty, concluded
to make the purchase. This was
followed by an attempt to manufact-
ure the instruments, which, as he
could make no sale, resulted in in-
volving him in bankruptcy. In set-
tling with his creditors, he was com-
pelled to part with his patent, and,
indeed, with all his property. It was
but poor consolation to be informed
afterwards that the London musician
was hired to change his opinion of
the instrument, that the inventor fled
to America without paying the in-
famous bribe, and that he lived but a
short time to enjoy the fruits of his
ill-gotten gain.
After Mr. Rand settled his affairs
in England, he returned in the spring
of 1848 to this country. He came at
once to his native town to visit his
parents, then lingering amid the in-
firmities of more than fourscore years,
waiting to depart, and who, within a
few weeks, both died within a few
days of each other. Mr. Rand then
bade what proved to be a final fare-
well to the scenes of his childhood
and youth, and went to the city of
New York, where he entered with all
the zeal of his earlier years upon the
practice of his chosen profession,
continuing in its prosecution until in-
creasing years and infirmities com-
pelled him to lay aside the pencil and
the palette. He lived some years
longer, but they were years of de-
pendence. He had rented a house in
the city, and by sub-renting some of
yohyi Rand.
the rooms he was able to preserve a
home, and while he could labor, pro-
cured a comfortable support. In his
last years he was compelled to learn
that bitter lesson which so many dis-
tinffuished artists and inventors had
learned before him, that the inher-
itance of poverty is too often the re-
ward of genius.
Mr. Rand possessed marked pecu-
liarities. As a man he was truly re-
markable. He stood nearly or quite
six feet and four inches in height,
erect and well formed, presenting a
physique which would demand atten-
tion in a passing crowd. There was
a self-poise about him, which, while
it was not haughty, was truly digni-
fied and noble.
Although he entered upon life at a
period when stimulants were common,
and when all classes indulged to some
extent, and too many very freely, yet
he, alike in youth and manhood, in
prosperity and adversity, stood firm
as a temperate man. No moral taint
ever attached to liis character. He
might have contracted debts which he
was unable to pay, still his intention
was truly honest, and his life Avas
virtuous.
The parents of Mr. Rand were de-
voted Christians, members of the
Baptist church. Like Zacharias and
Elizabeth of old, they walked in all
the commandments and ordinances of
the Lord blameless. At such an altar
of daily prayer John Rand, in his
childhood, received his first religious
impressions. From these for a brief
period his mind swung off into more
liberal views ; but with the soberness
of increasing years, and a more care-
ful study of the Word of God, he re-
turned, not only by conviction but
by a deeper heart experience, to the
faith of those who taught his infant
lips the prayer, "God be merciful to
me a sinner." In this faith he con-
tinued through all his wanderings by
land and sea, and through all the
vicissitudes of his Ions; and eventful
life ; nor can we doubt that from the
Saviour thus revealed his soul drew
consolation when turning from the
fading scenes of earth to the realities
of eternity.
Mr. Rand married Miss Lavinia
Braiuerd, of Vermont. They first
met in Charleston, South Carolina,
where she was the principal of a young
ladies' school. Although some eight
years his senior, they were very con-
genial, having the same literary tastes,'
the same views on religious subjects,
while neither of them seemed to pos-
sess the talent of accumulating prop-
erty. She was a relative of Rev.
David Brainerd, the distinguished
missionary to the Indians. Very
soon after their marriage they sailed
for Europe, and she suffered so se-
verely with sea-si(!kness and exhaus-
tion that her life was despaired of.
Once safely on the other side of the
ocean, she felt that she could never
return, and they determined to make
London their home. For a time they
lived in a very quiet way. Always
interested to speak on religious sub-
jects, she one day mentioned to a
near acquaintance her interest in for-
eign missions, and spoke of her rel-
ative Brainerd. This led to an intro-
duction to the morganatic wife of the
Duke of Sussex, the charming woman
whom Queen Victoria created Duchess
of Inverness. She became very much
attached to Mrs. Rand, and persuaded
the duke to sit for his portrait to Mr.
^'■Genius in Siois/iinc and Shadow.
Rand. From that time his success
was assured, and they were able to
afford a very hixurious style of liv-
iiiii;. When the portrait was finished
the duke gave theui a dinner, and in-
troduced them to many members of
the nobility. Many years after, in
the days of their poverty, she would
enjoy speai\ing of tiiis entertainment
and its magnificence ; but to Mr.
Rand it was painful, and he would
interrupt her with, '•• That is past and
sone. my dear: don't let us trv to
bring it back."
If I have been correctly informed,
Mr. Rand died in New York city in
the year 1873, and was buried in
Woodlawn cemetery. His funeral
services were conducted in the chapel
of Dr. Booth's church, Presbyterian,
Dr. Booth, and Dr. Williams, tlie late
eminent scholar and Baptist divine,
officiating. William Culien Bryant
was an intimate, life-long friend, and,
with other distinguished poets and
artists, followed him to his last rest-
ing-place. He left no children; and his
widow survived iiim but a few years.
No costly monument of granite or
marble marks the spot where repose
the remains of Mr. Rand ; but he has
left to his friends the memory of a
character crowned with integrity, vir-
tue, and religious faith, worthy of all
imitation, while both in this country
and in Europe remain many enduring
monuments of his skill as an artist,
and thousands who never knew him
are to-day enjoying the fruits of his
inventive genius.
"GENIUS IN SUNSHINE AND SHADOW."
The origin of those whom the world ments that it has been our pleasure
has called great — men who have writ- to read. He has drawn from the
ten their names indelibly upon the pages of history and his own memory
pages of history — is often of the hum- illustrious examples of the develop-
blest character. 8uch men have most ment of genius, even amid the most
frequently risen from the ranks, uninviting and unfavorable surround-
Oenius ignores all social barriers, ings. Daniel De Foe, Keats, Oliver
and springs forth wherever heaven Cromwell, Hugh INIiller, .John Bunyan,
has dropped the seed. The grandest Benjamin Franklin, Klihu Burritt,
-characters known in art, literature, Benjamin West, and hundreds of
and tlie useful inventions have illus- others, are cited as instances to illus-
trated the axiom tliat ''brave deeds trate that genius is independent of
are the ancestors of brave men;" circumstances. A galaxy of the names
and it would appear that an ele- of the world's great men is presented
ment of hardship is almost necessary' to demonstrate the fact that the hum-
to the effective development of true blest may rise to be the greatest. In
genius. That these facts are al- another chapter, Mr. Ballon effect-
most incapable of just denial, Mr. ually dispels, by practial illustrations,
Maturin M. Ballon further demon- the axiom that youth and rashness
strates in hi^ deeply interesting book, dwell together. Evidence is given,
''Genius in Sunshine and Shadow," ample and sufficient, that 3'outh is
which Messrs. Ticknor & Company, the period of deeds, when the senses
■of Boston, send to our table. Mr. are unworn and the whole man is in
Ballou has, in his volume of three vigor of strengtli and earnestness,
hundred pages, brought together the Mr. Ballou's book is crowded full of
most curiously interesting collection interest from cover to cover,
of facts bearing- out the above state- — Brooklyn Magazine.
One of Gov. Wcntworth's Last Official Acts.
ONE OF GOV. WENTWORTH'S LAST OFFICIAL ACTS.
I send you a copy of an original
document which I have sent to the
New Hampshire Historical Society.
The wording of the document makes
it quite a curiosity. The entire docu-
ment is in the governor's hand-writing,
and it is attested by no secretary. It
is one of the governor's last official
acts. He attempted to exercise no
authority in the state after July, 1775.
Who this Stephen Peabody was, I
have no means of knowing. It was
Nathaniel Peabody, of Atkinson, who
was the member of the Continental
Congress ; and Oliver Peabody, of
Exeter, who was the state senator for
raanv years. Please search the list
of representatives from Amherst in
Revolutionary times, and you may find
that it was in the ca[)acity of repre-
sentative that he gave offence to the
governor.
JOHN WP:NTWORrH.
Chicago, Ills.
Province of \
New Harnpsldre j
SEAL
George the Third
by the grace of
God of Great Brit-
ain, France and
Ireland King de-
- — r— ' fender of the faith
&c To the Sheriff
of our County of Hillsborough in our
Province aforesaid, greeting
Whereas We by and with the ad-
vise of our trusty and well beloved
John Wentworth, Esquire, Our Gov-
ernor and Commander in Chief in and
over our Province aforesaid did nom-
inate and appoint Stephen Peabody
of Amherst in our said County of
Hillsborough, Gentleman, to be a
Coroner witliin our said County to
do all those things which by our
Commission to him given and the
Laws in force within our said Prov-
ince he as a Coroner is authorized to
do and perform to which appointment
the said Stephen Peabody was after-
wards sworn. And whereas it now
appears to us not to be consistent
with Our Honor and the good of our
Subjects of our said County that the
said Stephen Peabody should be any
longer continued in the said office ;
We do therefore by and with the ad-
vise of our aforesaid John Wentworth,
Esq, our Governor and Commander
in Chief as aforesaid hereby super-
sede the said Commission and appoint-
ment of the said Stephen Peabody to
the office of a Coroner within our said
County of Hillsborough and do for-
bid his acting therein for the future
to every intent and purpose and
hereby declare any and every such
acts to be null and void.
You are therefore hereby required
to make known to the said Stephen
Peabody this our will and pleasure
and make due return hereof and of
your doings therein into the Secre-
tary's office of our said Province on
or before the thirtieth day of April
next.
In Testimony whereof we have
caused the seal of our said Province
to be hereunto affixed, Witness our
aforesaid Governor and Commander
in Chief the twenty fourth day of
March in the fifteenth year of our
reign, Annoque Domini 1775.
J WENTWORTH.
Hillsborough s.s. April 5 — 1775.
Pursuant to this precept to me direct-
ed I have made known to the within
named Stephen Peabody as I am
herein commanded by sending the
same to him.
BENJAMIN WHITING,
Sherif.
Localities in Ancient Dover
7
LOCALITIES IN ANCIENT DOVER.— Part II.
By John R. Ham, M. D.
Goat Island. The large island in
Pascataqiui river, and so called as
early as 1652, Ivins; a little to the
west of the mouth of Back river, and
jnst below the month of Little Bay,
near to the Durham shore. It was
granted in 1652 to Lieut. William
Pomfrett, and he conveyed it as a
gift to his grandson AVilliam, the son
of Deacon John Dame. When the
Pascataqua bridge was built, in 1794,
from Durham to Newington, the road
crossed this island.
Goddard's Cukek. So called as
early as IGGO ; it was the first creek
eastward of Lamprey river, in Dur-
ham, and flows into Great Bay. It
divided in part the counties of Rock-
ingham and Strafford, until 1870,
when the line was set over, and a
slice of Strafford county was cut off.
Great Bay (The). The body of
water formed by the junction of the
Squamscot, Lamprey, and Oyster
rivers, and which at the Little Bay
becomes tiie Pascataqua river. The
settlers called it the Bay of Pascat-
aquack.
Great Hill (The). The name
which was given as early as 1652, to
what in 1659 was called ''The Coche-
cho Great Hill," which from 1700 to
1834 was called Varney's hill, and
which since 1834 has, commonly but
erroneously, been called Garrison hill.
Whitehouse's map of Dover in 1834
calls it Varney's hill.
Great Pond (The). The name
which as early as 1650 was given to
the pond, which in 1674 was called
Cochecho pond. The latter name is
retained on Dover maps to this day ;
but it is commonly called Willand's
pond.
Greenland. So called as early as
1696 in land grants, viz., "on the
road leading to Greenland." It is
the town of that name.
Gulf (The). The name given as
early as 1656, to a swell in Cochecho
river, just below the head of tide wa-
ter, and which is retained to this day.
Half Way Swamp (The). The
swamp, so called as early as 1652,
lying south and west of Garrison
hill, south of Starbuck's brook, and
on the left side of the "Cartway"
which leads from the falls of the river
to the " Great Cochecho Fresh Marsh,"
which lay just to the north of Garrison
hill. It was half-way from the falls
to the last named marsh, and the
" Cartway " of 1652 is the present Gar-
rison Hill road.
Hartford's Ferry. In 1717, Nich-
olas Hartford opened a ferry between
Beck's Slip on Dover Neck and Kit-
tery.
Hayes's Garrison. In 1812 the
garrison of Lieut. Jonathan Hayes,
at the junction of the Tole End road
and the cross road that runs to the
second falls of the Cochecho, and at
the foot of WinKley's hill, was pulled
down. Lieut. Jonathan Hayes was
born Apr. 17, 1732 and died Apr. 15,
1787.
Haystack (The). So called in
Jonas Binn's grant in 1654. It was
near Branson's creeks on the west
side of Oyster river, near the mouth
of the river. What was it?
8
Localities in Ancient Dover.
Heard's Garrison. Capt. John
Heard's garrison, which was success-
fully defended in the Indian massacre
of Cochecho on June 28, 1G89, was on
the opposite side of the "cartway"
leading past the Great Hill. The
hill on which it stood is at the foot of
the Great Hill, and directly west of
the same. The "cartway" is the
present Garrison Hill road.
Hekoo's Cove. So called in 1664,
and was in Great Bay.
Herod's Point. A point of land,
so called as early as 1650, in Dea.
John Dam's grant, extending in Great
Bay on its south side.
Herod's Wigwam. There was an
Indian named Herod who had a wig-
wam on a point of land of same name,
in Great Bay, in IG.oO. The Dam
grant mentions botli the point and the
wigwam
HiCKs's Hill. See Mahorimet's hill.
Hilton's Point. The point of land
at the extremity of Dover Neck,
named from Edward Hilton, where
the settlement was made in 1623, and
which settlement took the name of
Dover in 1639. The Indian name of
the point was Wecanacohunt, some-
times called Wecohamet and Winni-
chahannat. Hilton's patent calls it
Wecanacohunt. It is now called Do-
ver Point.
Hogstye Cove. So called as early
as 1652, and it was the west end of
the southern boundary of Dover, now
of Newington, on Great Bay.
Hogstye Point. A point of land in
Newington, so called as early as 1656.
Hooks. A remarkable turn in
Belloman's Bank river, just below the
entrance of the Mallego, and so called
as early as 1694. The name was also
given to a remarkable turn in Laraper-
eel river, just below Wadleigh's falls ;
it is in the present town of Lee.
Hook Mills. There are two hook
mills named in the land grants. One
was at the hook of the Lampereel
river, near Wadleigh's falls, and one
near the hook of the Belloman's Bank
river. The hook mill on Bellamy river
was mentioned as early as 1729.
Hope Hood's Point. A point of
land thus named as early as 1694, on
the north side of the "Three Creeks,"
on the western side of Back River.
Tradition says Hope Hood, a Saga-
more and famous Indian chief, was
buried there. Hope Hood (alias Wa-
howah) , with three other Indians, sold
land on January 3, 1687, to Peter Cof-
fin, of Dover, and they called them-
selves in the conveyance the native
proprietors. The deed is recorded at
Exeter. In the French and Indian
massacre at Salmon Falls, on March
18, 1690, Hope Hood had twenty-five
Indians under him, and was allied to
a party of twenty-seven French under
Sienr Hertel. Thirty settlers were
killed and fifty-four captured. Hope
Hood was killed (says Mather) in
1690, and the same writer speaks of
him as "that memorable tygre, Hope
Hood." This point with land adja-
cent was granted to John Tuttle in
1642, and remained in possession of
the family till about 1870. White-
house's map in 1834 erroneously calls
it Hopewood's Point.
HucKiNs's Garrison, in Oyster
River parish, east of the Woodman
garrison, was destroyed by the Ind-
ians, and twenty-one or twenty-two
people massacred, in August, 1689.
Huckleberry Hill. The name
given as early as 1658, and which is
still retained, to a liill on the Dover
Localities in Ancient Dover. 9
Neck roivd. It is the long liill which Indigo Hill. A hill in Soiners-
one ascends before reaching the iiigli- worth, about three fourths of a mile
est elevation on the neck. below Great Falls, and so called as
Huckleberry Swamp. It was the early as 1()*J8. A road was laid out
Hilton Point swamp, and was laid in 1720 by the town of Dover, "■ be-
out in 1652 as the Ox Pasture. tween Quamphegan and Indigo Hill
Indian Brook. The brook which and beyond into the common." This
flows into Cochecho river on the east- road ran directly over Indigo hill,
ern side, and next above the fourth and is now closed up at that point,
falls of the same. The name was The new road between Salmon Falls
used as early as 1701 (Varney grant),, and Great trails leaves the hill on the
and its origin is unknown. It crosses risfht hand side between the road and
the " Scatterwit" road, and runs the river.
through tiie farm of Alderman Na- Johnson's Creek. This name was
thaniel Home. given as early as 1652 to a brook
Indian Corn Ground. A tract of which flows into Oyster river on the
land lying between Tole End and eastern side and next above Bun-
Barbadoes pond, and thus called as ker's creek. Thomas Johnson had a
early as 161J3, from which the settlers land grant there, and the stream per-
had laud grants from time to time, petuates his name.
Probably used by the Indians for cul- Knight's Ferry. The old ferry
tivating their corn prior to the settle- tween Dover Point and Bloody Point,
ment. Lampereel River. So called as
Indian Graves. A locality on the early as 1650, when Chris. Lawson
west end of Beach hill, in the north- and George Barlow bad permission
east corner of the town of Durham, from the town of Exeter to set up a
and so called as early as 1652. In saw-mill at Lampereel river, " a little
that year Philip Chesley had a grant above the wigwams ;" but prior to
of land from the town containing this date, in 1647, it was called Cam-
seventy-eight acres, " att y*" Indian pron river, and Elders Starbuck and
Graves," and in 1715 the Lot Layers Nutter of the Dover church had saw-
resurveyed it, and described the mills on the first falls, where the cot-
bounds as " beginning att the Indian ton mills of Newmarket now stand.
Graves, att Beach Hill, commonly so The Indian name of the first falls
called." was Pascassick, sometimes written
Another Indian burial-ground, ac- Piscassick, and again Puscassick.
cording to a land grant in 1659 to One of the western branches is now
Benjamin Hull, was on the south-west called the Piscassick. The stream is
side of Lampereel river, not far west now called Lamprey river,
of a mill that stood on the falls, and Little John's Creek. Little John
exactly on the town line between was an Indian, and his name was
Dover and Exeter, that is, on the given as early as 1654 to the only
town line between the towns of Dur- brook that crosses the Dover Neck
ham and Newmarket, as it existed road which requires a bridge. It is
till 1870. below the Wiugate farm, and is about
lO
JLocalities in Ancient Dover.
two miles below the city hall. It is
a tributary of Back River, on the east-
ern side, and the tide flows up the
brook under the bridge in the high-
way. Joseph Austin had a mill on
it in 1658. Whitehouse's map of
1834 calls it Varney's creek.
LiTTLEAVORTii. Tbe district on the
road leading to Barbadoes pond was
so called as early as 1724, and is re-
tained till this day. Whitehouse, on
his map in 1834, changed the name
to Trueworth to suit himself. It is
needless to say that no other individ-
ual ever called it by that name, nor
ever will do so.
Log Hill. The steep bank where
the Dover & Portsmouth Railroad
crosses the old bed of the Cochecho
river. It was the terminus of the
path leading from the " Logging
swamp" of Major Richard Waldron,
where the logs were tumbled down
the bank into the mill-pond.
Long Creek, It flows into Great
Bay on the north side, and between
Durham Point and the mouth of Lam-
prey river.
Long Hill lies about a mile and a
half north-west of Cochecho pond.
Little Bay. The contraction of
Great Bay at the eastern end, from
whence issues the Pascataqua river.
Long Point. So called as early as
16.")6. It projects into Great Bay on
the south side.
LuBHEKLANi). A locality in Dur-
ham bordering on Great Bay, and so
called as early as 1674. The attempt
to show that this is bad spelling for
Loverland is a failure. The old
grants use the name again and again,
and always Lubberland.
Madbury. a locality so named as
early as 1694, and now incorporated
as the town of Madbury. The origin
of the name is unknown.
Mahorimet. An Indian sagamore
who lived in the limits of the old town
of Dover. Samuel Symonds had a
grant of 640 acres of land from the
general court of Massachusetts, lying
on both sides of the " Upper or Island
falls" of Lampereel river, now Wad-
leigh's falls. This land was taken
possession of by Symonds on June 3,
1657, "in the presence and by con-
sent of Mahorimet, the sagamore of
those parts." The hill in now Mad-
bury was called after him, "Mahor-
imet's hill," till about 1725, when Jo-
seph Hicks bought land there, and
the title subsequently became "Hicks
hill."
Mahorimet's Hill. This Indian
name was perpetuated by the set-
tlers ; we find it in constant use from
1660 to 1725. It lies in Madbury,
and is now called Hicks's hill, from
Joseph Hicks who bought laud and
resided there from 1720.
Mahorimet's Marsh. So called as
earl}' as 1661, and for many years
after. It was adjacent to Mahori-
met's hill, and was probably the low
ground immediately to the south and
west of the same.
Mallego. The north branch of
Bellamy Bank river, and was thus
named as early as 1659. It arises
from Cate's pond in Barrington, and
joins Bellamy Bank river in the town
of Madbury.
Mast Path (The Great). There
were mast paths in various parts of
the town, but the one named above
was what is now the road to Little-
worth.
Meserve's Garrison. Clement
Meserve's garrison, now on land
Localities in Ancient Dover.
II
owned by Gerrish P. Drew, is on the
west side of the Buck River road, and
is in a very dilapidated state.
Moot, Mookt, or Moet. Bad
spelling for moat, and so called as
early as 1656 from its resemblance to
the moat or ditch which surrounded
old castles. It was applied to a mo-
rass in Oyster River parish on the
Great Bay, and served to mark the
bounds of certain land grants. "•The
little brook that cometh out of the
mooet" is mentioned.
Mount Sorrowful. So called in
1702, when Paul Wentworth had a
grant of land there.
'•MucH-A-DOE." The road leading
from Dover to " Much-a-doe" is men-
tioned in a conveyance in 1672.
Muchado is a hill in Barrington, and
the road referred to was, of course,
the Tole-End road.
Narrows (The). The narrow
channel in Cochecho river, about one
mile below the first falls. See Cam-
pin's Rocks.
Neeuom's Point. This was so
called as early as 1674, and was on
Great Bay in Oyster River parish.
Nicholas Needham was a member of
the Exeter combination in 1638, and
the point must have been named for
him.
Newichawannock. The Indian
name of the falls where the Berwick
("Great Works") river enters the
(now) Newichawannock river. But
the settlers applied the name to the
stream from Quamphagan (Salmon
Falls) to Hilton's Point, where it flows
into the Pascataqua river; and this is
the Newichawannock of to-day. The
settlers also called it the "Fore
River." See Quamphagan and Fore
River.
Newtown. So called as early as
16i)4, and the name is retained to this
day. It is in the present town of
Lee, about three miles north-west of
Hicks's hil,l.
Nock's Marsh. The grant of land
to Thomas Nock in 1659, lying on
the north side of Belloman's Bank
river, about one mile above tide
water. In 1659 William Ilackett had
thirty acres of land "between the
path that led from Belloman's Bank
to Cochecho," on the south, with the
freshitt (river) on the west, and the
land of Thomas Nock on the north.
The spelling has been changed to
Knox marsh by those who have for-
gotten the name of the original set-
tler.
Northam. When the Rev. Thomas
Larkham, formerly of Northam, Eng-
land, came in 1640 to the pastorate
of the First Church, Dover, the set-
tlers changed the name of the town
from Dover to Northam ; but when
Rev. Mr. Larkham left the town in
1641, the former name of Dover was
again adopted.
Otis's Garrison. Richard Otis's
garrison, which was destroyed on June
28, 1689, in the Indian massacre at
Cochecho, stood on the west side of
Central avenue on the top of the
hill, which is half way from the falls
of Cochecho to the "Great Hill."
Drake's Book of the Indians and
the Otis Genealogy erroneously place
the garrison on the east side of (now)
Central Avenue. Otis's house in
1655 was on the east side of " the cart-
wa}^" now Central Avenue ; but the
land grant was resurveyed to Rich-
ard Waldrou after the desolation of
Cochecho, and they confirm the tra-
dition that the garrison of Otis in
12
Localities in Ancient Dover.
1G89 was on the west side of the
"cartway," now Central Avenue.
Ox Pasture (The). It was laid
out as such in the Hilton Point
swamp in 1652, and was divided
among the inhabitants, with other
common lands, in 1732.
Oyster Bed. The settlers discov-
ered a bed of oysters in the stream,
which, from this circumstance, they
called Oyster river. It was half way
between the mouth of the river and
the first falls of the same.
Oyster Point. On one side of the
mouth of Thomas Johnson's creek, on
the east side of Oyster river, and was
so named as early as 1654.
Oyster River. So called as early
as 1640 from the discovery of a bed
of oysters half way between the
mouth and the first falls of the river.
The settlers gave the name to both
the stream and the settlement upon
it. The parish of Oj'ster River was
included in the limits of Dover till its
separate incorporation in 1736 as the
town of Durham.
Packer's Falls. The fourth falls
in the Lampereel river, in Durham,
was granted to Thomas Packer in
about 1750. The second and third
falls also are now included in "Pack-
er's falls."
Paine's Garrison. In the Indian
massacre at Cochecho, on June 28,
1689, Thomas Paine had a house on
the road leading from Cochecho to
Salmon Falls, now Portland street, at
the intersection of Rogers street.
Belknap did not mention it in bis
account of the massacre. It is
doubtful if it was or was not for-
tified.
Paquamehood. In 1665, James
Paquamehood, an Indian "of Tole
End," sold to James Rawlings " three
ponds and three hills, with all en-
closed lands and marshes." The deed
is recorded at Exeter.
Pascataqua. (One water parting
into three.) The Indian name of the
junction of the waters at Hilton's
Point. The settlers gave this name
to the stream issuing from Little Bay,
above Goat island, and which, receiv-
ing Back river on the west of Dover
Neck, and Newichawannock on the
east of Dover Neck, is lost in the sea
at Portsmouth. Early historians also
gave the name to the settlements up-
on the stream. The river is now com-
monly, but erroneously, called Piscat-
aqua.
Pascataquack. The early name
of the Great Bay.
Pascassick. The Indian name of
the first falls of Lamprey river, at
the head of tide water, where the cot-
ton mills of Newmarket now stand,
and which name the settlers also gave
to the western branch of the river.
Sometimes Piscassick, sometimes Pus-
cassick, in the land grants. The
western branch of Lamprey river is
now commonly called Piscassick.
Pine Hill. The hill on which the
third meeting-house of First church,
Dover, was built before July 16, 1713,
and where the dust of the fathers has
mouldered for generations, was called
Pine Hill as early as 1731.
Pine Point. A locality in New-
ington, thus named as early as 1664 ;
another Pine Point was on the Ne-
wichawannock, in 1693, just below
St. Albons cove.
PiNKHAM^s Garrison. It was on
Dover Neck, about half a mile below
the second meeting-house lot, and was
taken down in about 1825.
A yail Adventure. 13
A JAIL ADVENTURE.— Part II.
By William O. Clough.
"You should have seen tlie min- ously ejected me from the car, and
gled expression of surprise and con- when I gathered myself up and of-
tempt which stole over his counte- fered to show him my credentials, he
nance ; and then, to appreciate my laughed in my face and said he had
embarrassment, 3'ou should have good and sufficient reasons for be-
heard him say, — lievingthera to be bogus. I attempted
" 'Young fellow, that is an old and to reason with him. He would not
very gauzy device, and if you don't listen; he simply said, in a gruff
disperse yourself in double quick voice, 'Young man, I've got about
time, I'll see to it that you have safe out of patience with you ! You look
quarters at the station-house.' to me like a crank. Yes, sir, and if
"You may set it down as a cer- I were not under positive orders to
tainty that I 'dispersed m3'self' with- go with this train for the protection
out any more ado, and I kept dis- of the party from just such unprinci-
persed until the hour arrived for the pled intruders, I would run you in for
party to move on to the next city." investigation.'
McVeaigh's countenance now took "You may set it down as a cer-
on more of earnestness, and his voice tainty that I was greatly embarrassed,
became hard and belligerent. and that I hesitated concerning the
"My troubles," he continued, "as next move, and whether or no it was
it turned out, had but just begun. In prudent to continue the evidently un-
a confident and joyous manner I went equal contest.
on board the special train that was to "In my dilemma I appealed to the
take the party on its journey. When conductor of the train. He proved
in the act of making some inquiries to be an unusually important and dis-
of a palace car conductor, a colored obliging public servant. In fact, my
gentleman, a hand was placed rudely pathetic story had no more effect
and heavil\' upon my shoulder, and I upon him than it would have had
was felled into a corner with unneces- upon the Old Man of the Mountain,
sary violence. The policeman who He was travelling on a reverse curve,
'dispersed' me had me by the coat and he curved opposite to my humble
collar." person with great dignity.
McVeaigh paused. An irrepressi- " 'I cannot do anything for you,
ble emotion of indignation momenta- my friend!' he said, giving me a
rily overpowered him. He nervously withering and scornful glance. 'If
changed the position of his body, and you are particular about continuing
when lie spoke his voice was harsh your journey to-day, the proper thing
and belligerent. for you to do will be to purchase a
"He shook me for all the world as ticket and secure a passage on the
a terrier shakes a rat !" he exclaimed, accommodation train, which follows
indignantly. "He then ignomiui- us in thirty minutes.'
14 A Jatl Adventure.^
"I explained, begged, scolded, and tory suddenness that nearly stopped
swore, but all to no purpose. His my breath.
heart was like flint, and his decision "I expostulated, I resisted, I
irrevocable. struck right and left with all my
" ' Clear out, or I'll hand you over might, I kicked. I declared that I was
to a policeman!' he exlaimed in a pursuing a legitimate calling ; that his
pompous manner. interference was unwarrantable ; that
"I was in mortal fear of a police- I would take the law on him ; that un-
man, and so I cleared out with re- less he immediately and uncondition-
markable alacrity. ally released me he would get into
"The next and last individual with trouble that would cost him his com-
whora I sought an interview — the mission.
bao-orao-e-master — informed me, in " Mv mad antics and loud declama-
words more emphatic than polite, that tion did not have the slightest effect
there was a representative of my upon him. He did not appear in the
newspaper in the refreshment car, least frightened, neither did he turn
and therefore he was satisfied that I pale or loosen his gri[) on my collar,
was a cheap fraud. "This little episode, however,
"While I was debating the question caused a great sensation and a com-
witli him the train moved out of the motion in the crowd. The procession
station. halted. Everybody within hearing
"Gentlemen, hearing no objection, of the tumult rushed upon us, and
I will now omit an elaboration of my became interested spectators. Some
experience iu the next hour. I will of the men attempted the role of
simply say that I was very despond- peacemakers ; others talked fight, and
ent ; that the accommodation train threatened vengeance on the police-
was behind time ; that it was slow ; man ; children, who were trampled
that when I arrived in the next city under foot, shrieked with terror, and
my mental condition rapidly improved, women fainted; while a dandified fel-
and I imagined myself in a place low, who had the appearance of a
where the prerogatives of the profes- dancing master, queried, 'What's he
sion are respected. been doing?' and a plug-ugly (if I
"Ah ! but I was doomed again to am any judge of mortal man) shouted
dire and dreadful disappointment, as savagely, 'Let him go!'
the sequel will show. ICven to this "The policeman was equal to the
day I cannot reflect with composure emergency. He drew his revolver,
upon the events which followed. and ordered the mob to stand back.
'•With your permission, however, The effect was like magic : everybody
I will condense mv harrowins; tale at stood back. Meanwhile I continued
this point, and simply say that I made to show fight, and called on the peo-
my way to the main street, and when pie to rescue me : he clubbed me. I
pushing nervously through the crowd hung back : he dragged me. Yes, I
a heavy hand was again laid upon my blush to own it, tluit policeman ac-
shoulder, and well, that same tually dragged me to the city jail.
policeman snatched me with peremp- "At the guard-room my pockets
A yail Adventure. i
D
were searched for evidence that I was cells on my right and left and in the
a dangerous man in the community, opposite corridor. Modesty was no
and I was catechised concerning my part of their education. They spoke
birth, parentage, occupation, and age ; in the vernacular of the street, and
to all of which the answers were truth- with the familiarity of old friends and
ful, but were not believed. I was acquaintances.
told that my conduct was suspicious ; "'You've got the finest parlor
that I had been faithfully shadowed, f what's in the hotel, Johnny,' chuck-
and, painful as the duty might be, it led a small boy, who climbed about
was necessary to lock me up. on the bars of his cell door with all
"Well, I made an earnest and elo- the agility and evident enjoyment of
quent appeal to the chief. He lis- a caged monkey at a menagerie,
tened patiently. I declared over and "'And the villain still pursued
over again that I was a newspaper him,' remarked a seedy, middle-aged
man, and had an important and im- man, in a husky, stentorian voice;
perative dut}' to perform ; that to while a third person — an old man,
doubt me was little less than a crime ; who was evidently behind the bars
that to commit me was to disappoint becauseof light-fingered proclivities, —
the journal upon which I was em- said, in the glibbest manner possible,
ployed, and perhaps ruin my pros- 'My son, it grieves me to the heart
pects in life. to meet you in marble halls. You
" 'That is what they all say,' he are young, and probably think your-
coolly replied. He promised, how- self innocent of the crime for which
ever, to give my case his considera- you are apprehended. It won't do !
tion as soon as the rush of business Up you go ! In brief, it is my duty
was over. to inform you that the court — bavins:
"I was then hurried below, my considered the offence to which, by
name, age. and occupation recorded the advice of able counsel, you have
in a book kept for that purpose, and pleaded nolo contendere — orders that
compelled to accept quarters in a dis- you be confined at hard labor in the
mal cell. penitentiary for a period of five years ;
" Merciful Providence ! It was the that you pay the cost of prosecution,
worst place, as it then appeared to and stand committed till sentence be
me, that I had ever beheld. And performed.'
such companions! The vilest that " 'And may God have mercy on
ever breathed the damps of a dun- your soul !' bawled an idiotic youth ;
geon. whereupon the happy family sent up
"The key was turned in the lock, a peel of laughter that made the old
and ray captor hurriedly departed. dungeon echo.
"I was dazed and frightened. I " Oh, but it was a wicked place !
was weak and confused, and there- " There were nearly a dozen of these
fore it was several minutes before I hilarious captives, and every one fa-
fuUy realized what had happened to vored me with remarks or sugges-
me. I remember, though, the mocking tions.
sociability of those who occupied the "A wreck in a cell at my right ad-
1 6 A 'Jail Adventure.
vised me to promise to sign the pledge, is prejudicially and unqualifiedly false,
^d 'go on probation ; ' another sug- ' Rum, my dear brother in misfortune,
gested that it was proper to 'squeal is what does the business for us!'
on the seller,' and thus go free ; while "The wretched and disorderly
still another, — a sort of patriarch in specimens of humanity in the other
law-breaking, and a person whose cages were divided on this point,
greatest weakness was an inordinate Some said ' That's so,' but the greater
affection for the flowing bowl, — ob- number groaned, and declared that
served that the court had soured on the speaker was • too-too for his busi-
most suffering and deserving human- ness ;' while the moment the hilarity
ity, and therefore I might consider ceased a moderate spoken individual
myself lucky if I got off with six of fifty, who pretended to deprecate
month at the famous watering (hie) the levity of the gentlemen, who, 'for
place known in the county as the reasons best known to the polite and
Mountain House. efficient gentlemen of the police de-
"The most crushing blow, how- partment of our growing and enter-
ever, came from a miserable woman prising city,' were cruelly, and with
on the other side of the corridor, malice aforethought, denied the privi-
'Why, yes it is!' she exclaimed, lege of American citizens to witness
hysterically. 'It is my long lost the procession, insisted that he rec-
brother ! And to think, Dennis, that ognized in me a member of congress,
you should come to this ! Alas, for a wise statesman, and sympathizing
the good advice which I have given friend of the deserving poor and
you! All wasted!' needy. 'Fellow-citizens, who, like
"Her speech was hailed with every myself, have come to this extremity
mark of approbation ; in fact, the because of the men who broke the
whole motley crew bellowed like banks, and who are still at large, we
fiends infernal. must dissemble. This gentleman in
"There was a pause in the pro- number ten was committed at his
ceedings, and I had begun to congrat- own request. He has taken this
ulate myself on the end of their un- method of ascertaining facts and in-
seemly conduct, when a human dwarf, formation that, when fully evolved
— clean shaved, and evidently a per- and established, will undoubtedly re-
son who had spent a good share suit in needed reforms in the maiiage-
of his days behind prison bars, — in- ment of city, county, and state board-
sisted on being informed, 'privately ing-houses, and thereby ameliorate in
an' 'pon honor,' whether or no there a large degree the suffering of the
was a woman in the scrape. He had, members of a worthy class of well
so he said, ironically, been gathering meaning but shockingly misguided
statistics for a number of years, and fraternity known among men of let-
was now prepared to demonstrate to ters, and those bummers of the daily
a nicety, before any unprejudiced tri- newspapers, as law-breakers. My
bunal, that the statement going the dear sir, accept our apology for the
rounds of the press that the dear sex rude reception you have received
are mixed up in most of man's crimes among us.'
A ydil Adventure. 17
" He called for tliroe cheers. They ter, rtittling of cell doors, and other
were given with a will, and orna- signs of approval,
mented with several tigers; and then "Presently the whole crew desired
the turnkey of that dungeon came to he interviewed, and the wickedest
among us, and raved, scolded, and man in the prison assured me that he
swore, and declared that unless the would tell all the secrets of the city,
racket ceased he would gag the whole under oath, and as much more as I
bilin'. would pay a reasonable price for.
" It was such a party, gentlemen, "■ That I was a very unhappy 3'oung
as I hope I may never be compelled man, and desperate withal, I have
to meet again under like eircum- never to this day doubted, and that I
stances. importuned and attempted to bribe
" In my feverish anxiety and mor- every officer who came within the
tification I imagined that all the fiends sound of my voice it would be useless
of the infernal region surrounded me. to deny. Moreover, I shall never be
I was fast losing control of my nerves unmindful that 'kicking against the
and becoming strangely bewildered; pricks' is a useless exercise; that it
and yet I had sufficient presence of is the part of wisdom for a man who
mind to attempt to calm myself, and is compelled by untoward circum-
argue that my incarceration was the stances to remain in custody as a
result of a mistake. The poisonous prisoner to make the best of the sit-
atmosphere of the place had some- nation, and spend the time in congrat-
thing to do, I think, with my de- ulating himself that he is in luck that
spondency. so little is known about him.
'•Meanwhile my tormentors con- "But what was I in for?
tinned their disjointed observations, •'• 'Pickpocket' was the significant
and that terribly depraved woman her word written against my name on the
moaning about her poor, unfortunate book of entry. 'Pickpocket!' I
brother Dennis, and the prisoner saw the officer write it.
with the stentorian voice kept up his "Pickpocket! The thought of it
random and oratorical debate on re- caused me to tremble, and the per-
form, or something of that sort. 'I spiration to start from every pore in
have him at last!' he shouted in a my body. I paused in serious medi-
voice of thunder. ' He's a government tation. The full force of the cora-
detective, who has come among us plaint dawned upon me. My strength
high toned and labor-hating aristoc- began to fail. T was wild with im-
racy for the purpose of discovering, patience.
if be can, who beats the great, glori- "Pickpocket! 1 repeated over and
ous, and high-minded American insti- over again, the while standing by the
tution in the important matter of the iron door of the cell listening to the
taxes on the necessities of life — discordant jargon of my fellow-pris-
whiskey, beer, and tobacco.' oners, and inhaling poisonous odors
'• This statement was hailed with that made me faint and sick,
shouts of 'Good, good!' several ''Pickpocket! I had written the
rounds of applause, mocking laugh- word a hundred times, but it never
1 8 A 'Jail Adventure.
had a significant meaning until now, fine point, and are not disposed to
In ray loneliness and despair I sat give them the benefit of many doubts,
down upon tlie side of my bunk, and, "But I had become shockingly un-
half believing that a history of my balanced. The crime of which I was
strange experience in jail would make suspected, and for which I was com-
a sensation article for the newspaper, mitted, increased in magnitude as I
took my note-book from my pocket contemplated it, and was made more
and endeavored to analyze my symp- appalling by tiie thought that possibly
toms, and to make a pen picture of for some years my companions were
my companions and surroundings. I to be the class of adventurers whose
could not accomplish anything. Con- hideous noises and jeering speeches
centration of thought was a lost art were ringing in my ears. Strange to
with me, and I doubt if I could have say, my imagination conjured up all
correctly spelled and written my the evils that could possibly befall
name. 'Pickpocket' was the one word the worst criminal in the land. And,
in my vocabulary. I paced the floor moreover, what if the overzealous
in anxiety and misery. The more I witnesses for the government should
•exercised, the more impatient and des- identify the ten-dollar note which the
perate I became. I was in the dark- officer had taken from my pocket for
uess, despondency, and gloom of the safe keeping ! What if I should be
inquisition. Strange fancies and hal- recognized as an old offender; as a
lucinations oppressed me, and dark criminal who had ' done time ' in the
forebodings of evil consequences pos- penitentiary of some other state ; as
sessed my mind. I felt — for I fully an outlaw on whose head a price was
realized my condition — that I was set ! More, what if ray conduct in
uearing the critical point where reason attempting to bribe my jailer should
and judgment are dethroned. be construed as corroborative evi-
"I was a stranger, and they took deuce of ray guilt!
me in. AVhat if they should insist "Fear, fear in the worst possible
on keeping me? What if some re- form, was upon me. I lost all con-
spectable and reliable citizen should trol of my reasoning faculties and
appear as my accuser, and swear ray judgment. The perspiration
with convincing positiveness that at oozed from every pore in my body,
the moment the policeman's hand was and my nerves fluttered like a leaf in
placed upon my shoulder he felt my the wind. The future looked dark ;
hand in his pocket, and was all the there was no oasis in it. Hardships,
more certain of the facts because of and possibly loss of reason, seemed
the seal ring upon my finger, which among the certainties of the future,
he was positive tore a hole corre- The light and joy had faded out of
-sponding in size in the lining of his my life.
c(}at ! "In my distress and despondency
"You will observe, gentlemen, that I could not recall that I had a friend
it was a conviction with me that pros- in all the wide world who would be
ecuting officers figure the evidence likely to assist me in the hour of my
against a suspected person to a pretty great affliction and necessity. I felt
A "Jail Adventure. 19
that I was poor, in misfortune, and "And so I struggled with doubts
forsaken. Ruin stared nie in the and fears, with fluctuating hopes and
face ; my cliaracter was forever black- grave apprehensions, with dread and
enod ; thenceforth I was branded a uncertainty, till my reason was tem-
felon ; there was stain upon my gar- porarily dethroned, and I became a
inents ; all my old associates would wild and raving maniac. I threw my
believe the worst of me ; I should lose coat and the contents of my pockets
my place, and no reputable journal upon the floor and trampled upon
would give me employment. them ; I beat my new silk hat into a
'• This, my friends, is no picture of shapeless mass ; I dishevelled my hair ;
the fanc}', no overdrawn sketch from I ruined my patent leather boots by
the imagination. It is a truthful re- kicking against ray cell door; I broke
port of an actual occurrence. the stool which the jailor had kindly
"An hour passed wearily. The light loaned me into kindling wood ; I de-
becarae dim, the place more sombre stroyed the clothing of ray bunk and
and gloomy, and the outlook for the raved like a hungry tiger in a cage,
night more appalling. "What should INIy strength was something wonder-
I do? What could I do? To whom ful, my passion ungovernable. My
could I apply for relief ? How would chaffing companions in durance vile
my employers construe my absence were for the nonce silent and re-
from duty, my silence? What would spectful.
become of my wife and child? What " My friends, as I pause and look
would my mother-in-law say? The back upon that scene, and consider
last thought overpowered, staggered my experience, I discover that there
me, and I reeled against my dungeon were some very strange and perplex-
wall like a victim of intemperance. ing sensations, sensations that I shall
" Was I childish? I will not pre- never be able fully to fathom or
tend to say I was not. I will only clearly define. It appeared to rae
add, in passing, that all temperaments that I had two minds independent of
are not alike, — and then continue my each other, and two individualities,
narrative by saying that I fell upon By the more demonstrative mind I
my face in the bunk of that horrible was wrought up to the highest pitch
place and wept like a child who had of nervous excitement. My eyes, I
broken its favorite toy, or a frail vei'ily believe, were glassy ; my head
w^oman who moans some sudden and was burning with fever ; I was thirs-
overwhelming bereavement and will ty ; great drops of perspiration rolled
not be comforted. from my forehead and fell ui)on the
"Gentlemen, in that awful hour of floor; my tongue was swollen; my
delirium and suspense my mind chased blood was on fire. I was desperate,
many foolish phantoms, and my over- JNIy one overpowering desire was my
tasked imagination builded many bar- liberty. Underneath all this was aa
riers between my future and the undefinable sense of feeling that now
bright sunshine that never seemed so appears to me like my normal condi-
glorious and beautiful as when its tion of mind. I could reason to a
warm rays were denied rae. certain point, but the raeutal strain
20 A Jail Adventure.
strain on the other key was so much which wa}' I might, take the most
greater that the conclusion was not favorable view of the situation I could
clear. I could see and in some de- master, there was no dawn that fore-
gree understand what I was about, shadowed a bright future. I lay in
and yet there was an idea that there that bunk a broken-hearted man, a
was a somebody else in all that was wreck, a human being who thought
transpiring, for whom I entertained himself dead to this world, and who,
emotions of pity, but over whose in his disordered mind, was passing
movements and reckless deportment away from its trials. i)erplexities, and
I had no control. Sometimes the disappointments,
thought would be clear that it was ^-A little later and these \\g\y im-
myself, and then there would be a aginings passed away, and great hap-
feeling of shame that my wits were piness came to me. I laughed at the
not strong enough to subdue my body sufferings and remorse of tiie hours I
and control my tongue. On the other had spent in tlie dungeon's gloom,
hand, running counter and distinct, They were but the flimsy fabric of a
as I have already stated, was unrea- dyspeptic dream, release from which
soning madness. caused a buoyancy of spirit in which
"A little later I became exhausted, bi'ight prospects were in the ascend-
laydown and immediately fell asleep, ency, and hope everywhere renewed.
It was a troubled sleep, for I looked I saw mvself surrounded by my old
into the prison ' at the other end of friends ; there was warmth in their
the valley,' and lived the secluded greeting, and joy in every word that
and burdensome life of a convict. I was s[)oken. I beheld the beautiful
was fatigued from labor and suffered world, more beautiful now than it
for companionship. I longed with an ever appeared to me before. I was
aching heart for the cheer and smiles assured of success as a journa-list,
of the friends of other days, and the and my future seemed secure. Added
society of the young men and young to this was the new happiness which
women whom I had known and loved I beheld in my wife, and a knowledge
in the days of my freedom. I sighed that my report of the affair which I
for the free air of heaven ; I yearned had been assigned to write up had
for an hour among editors and print- reached my journal on time. In the
ers ; I envied the oflice devil ; and I midst of all, the managing editor had
wondered if any one of them would said my work was intelligently and
acknowledge that he ever knew me. satisfactorily performed, which to a
More particularly did I grieve because man of my desjionding mood was
of the disgrace my downfall would sufiicient ground for more of happi-
bi'ing ui)on the woman I had sworn ness than I could well express. I
to honor and cherish, the child born dreamed a good deal more ; and when
to us. and also upon my aged par- I awoke and realized that it was only
ents. a dream after all, I was more misera-
"• While in this condition of body ble, if that were possible, than I had
and mind I fancied that I could wel- been before, and had less control over
come death, for I somehow realized my mind in directing it to a successful
that it would end my suffering. Look resistance to gloomy forebodings.
A yail Adventure. 21
"In a word, 1 lost my courage. "The c^liief — I have forgotten h
IS
The old fear came upon me with add- name — was a man of wide experience
ed force. Prison walls and cell bars, and wise discrimination. He had not
hard task-masters and scanty food, been long enoiigli in the business to
stared me in the face and thrilled me be calloused. In a word, he took me
with terror, such terror as I had never in at a glfvnce, and somehow reassur-
before experienced, and which 1 pray ed me that all would come out right.
I may never again experience. Faint- I began to see silver linings in the
ness, weakness, and nauseating sick- dark clouds. Said he, —
ness followed. T moaned and cried " 'Young man, you are under arrest
piteously. Presently I was a raving on a very serious charge, which, if
maniac, and, although conscious that proven against you, is at the minimum
I was making a fool of myself, passed five years in prison. I will say to
through the trials that beset me be- you, however, that from the" best in-
fore my dream. It was terrible, I formation I can ol)tain, and after a
assure vou. After a while I became searching examination of the ffentle-
active again ; and shortly after, a voice man who claimed to have been robbed,
at my cell door aroused me and par- but who was not, I have come to the
tially restored my mental equilibrium, conclusion that you should be dis-
I staggered to the now open cell door, charged from custody at once, and
I shall never forget my feelings or my personal assurance given that the
the look of [)ity which the officer gave officer making the arrest exceeded his
me, as I inquired what was wanted. duty. He should have used his judg-
" ' You are wanted at the chief's raent rather than have acted upon the
office,' replied the man in blue and request of an excited complainant. I
bright buttons emphatically, his voice regret exceedingly the annoyance to
and manner robbing me of the last which you have been subjected, and
ray of hope to which, like a drowning sincerely hope the circumstance will
man who seizes upon a straw, I had not work to your disadvantage among
tenaciously clung. your companions, or cause you trouble
" I followed him mechanically, with with your employers. You may go.'
trembling body and feeble step, with "It was exceedingly cold comfort,
such dread of consequences as I have but I took it without murmur or argu-
siuce imagined must possess the mind ment, and suddenly, 3'es, hurriedly,
of a condemned man when ascending put that city jail behind my back. I
the scaffold from which he is to be suppose I ought to have thanked him,
launched into eternity. How I man- but I did not. At least I have no
aged to pilot myself through several memory to that effect. The truth is,
dark passage-ways and up a flight of my anxiety to get into the sunlight,
winding stairs I shall never be able to regain my freedom, to demonstrate
to make clear to myself. It must be, to my satisfaction that I was not in-
I think, that the officer assisted me, sane or dieaming, was such that I
for somehow I have an indistinct rec- had no thought of anything else, and
oUection that his hand was upon ray was therefore completely off my guard
arm. in the matter of the manners, which
22
A 'Jail Adventure.
are :i part of the stock in trade of a
well regulated journalist, and which
he is expected to exhibit at all times
and under all circumstances to all
people."
There was an ominous pause and
profound silence, in which it was
somehow made as clear as sunshine
that Mr. Bragg desired to speak the
tag or control the storv-teller. He
evidently knew the end from the be-
ginning, and feared that some one
was likely to be in some way exposed
or compromised.
McVeaigh quickly comprehended the
situation, and in a side speech, which
we did not understand, gave some
sort of assurance which overcame the
brother's modesty, and caused him to
withdraw threatened interruption.
" When I reached the next city,"
continued McVeaigh, " I met Brother
Bragg, and this is what came of it :
"'What became of you.?' he in-
quired.
" Of course I acknowledged that I
had been in durance vile, incarcerated
in a city jail on the serious charge of
larceny from the person.
" ' I heard so,' he replied, ' but did
not have the time to search you out.
I should have returned, however,
after doing this place, if you had
not put in an appearance. But you
are all right below. It was a pretty
hard job, considering the magnitude
of the event, to double and duplicate
despatches successfully, but I suc-
ceeded. Your report went in on time,
and in your own name, and here is
the evening edition of your paper,
which proves it.'
''You maybe sure a heavy load
was lifted from my mind, and guess
that I thanked him and gave assur-
ance of my gratitude and my happi-
ness."
"What happened a year or so
later?" inquired Mr. Bragg.
"What happened? Why, I met that
same chief of police at the Parker
House, in Boston. He recognized
me. We engaged in a chat like two
old school-day cronies that had not
seen each other in many years. Just'
as we were on the point of separation,
he looked me squarely in the face,
and in a frank and manly way said, —
" ' I ought to tell you something
that you would like to know, and
which you have probably never mis-
trusted, about your incarceration in
the jail in the city which I have the
honor to represent.'
" I assured him, of course, that I
would like very much to hear it.
" 'A short time following that un-
happy experience in your life,' he
continued, ' I learned upon the most
positive evidence that a jealous jour-
nalist from a neighboring city " put
up the job" on you. In other words,
he cheated an ambitious and over-
zealous policeman by making him be-
lieve that he knew you as a celebrated
New York thief who had done ser-
vice, and for whose apprehension a
reward was offered. It was a trick to
get vou out of the wav, so that he
could secure exclusive reports of the
events which were happening.'
"We laughed heartily ; we have been
good friends ever since, and I can
get the best accommodations in the
matter of news of any outside man
who visits that chief's borough.
" Gentlemen, you have the full
particulars of 'A Jail Adventure.' "
Early Manners and Customs. 23
EARLY MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
By Mary R. P. Hatch.
Fiction is sometimes truer than his- can tell? but we know that the blood
tory or biography, — paradoxical as it of the pioneer has baptized every
may seem ; for in dealing with feel- land where gleams now the light of
ings and motives, one can reason from happy homes.
the inner consciousness, and, by a Anon the foot-path in our forest
natural sequence of ideas, arrive at has become a bridle-path, for seven
truer understanding than by the ren- families have wrested from the wil-
dering of facts as they appear in in- derness their log huts. The sound
cident and event. of the axe is heard on the clear air ;
Thus, in a work of the kind we have the wild beasts recede somewhat,
in hand, it is lawful, I think, to allow coming now at nightfall to howl
the imagination to roam over the fer- around their dwellings, or to gaze
tile fields of the past, and gather here through the windows at the family
and there posies of thought ungar- seated about the blazing fire ; while
nered bv the strict historian. Manv the Indian, with growing hatred,
times have I gazed beyond the beau- passes by, or scowls at the peaceful
tiful, mosaic meadows at the gleam- sight from behind the bushes,
ing surface of our winding Conuecti- Ah ! and here comes a horseman,
cut, or stood upon its banks, and As his horse's feet fall with soft thud
fancied myself back to the time when upon the yielding earth, he is saying
the primeval forest with its under- to himself, perhaps (who knows?),
growth of bushes lay close to its as did Tennyson's Northern Farmer :
banks, and rendered our now beauti- t^ . -. .v , . , .
'■ Do sn't thou ear my orse s legs as they canters
ful valley well-nigh impassable, ex- awaay?
cept to the trained hunter or the Ind- P'-^P^rtty, propertty, propertty, that's what i
'ears 'em saiJy."
ian. And I can see now in imag-
ination the dusky savages silently But we love to think it was some-
assembling from behind the trees, thing besides property that induced
stepping into their bark canoes, and our forefathers to settle in the wilder-
floating down the river witli hunting ness. High courasfc and dauntless
or warlike intentions. Again, I see will were theirs first of all, and these
the adventurous white man entering traits, united to the smiling valley
the wilderness after his toilsome they have left us, make a priceless
march of a hundred and fifty miles, heritage indeed.
blazing his way by cutting notches in The pioneer has invariably been
the trees — alert, and daring to thus possessed of unusual character ; for
brave the Indian and the wild beasts it requires not only great hope, force,
in their forest home. He has passed, and courage, but discrimination and
Will he return in safety, or fall a vie- endurance, to successfully map out
tim to his dauntless courage? Who and plant a colony : so when it is said
24 Early Manners and Customs.
of a man that be was oue of the first ''AH work and no play makes Jack
settlers, respect should immediately a dull boy — and Jill, a dull girl," per-
embalm his memory. haps reasoned the elders. Anyway,
Our forefathers were always, like- they accepted the idea of first work
wise, men of great individuality. In and then play, and so was instituted
cities there is to be found the finest the husking frolic, the apple-bee, the
symmetry of character, but strong quilting, and, at last, amusement
individuality is far more rare, owing without its modicum of work — the
to the constant friction of mind upon junket. Let us again call fancy to
mind, which is apt to wear away the our aid, and go to the house of some
strong points of individual character, local magnate where thei-e is to be a
and to make too many of the same husking frolic and junket. Perhaps
pattern. The man remarkable for it is a husking-bee. Let us say that
action is seldom a growth of the tiie log hut has given place to the
city, but an influx from the country. Luge, square structure with many-
How often do the newspapers give paned windows, its keeping-room and
the names of prominent men who long kitchen, and its immense chim-
came from the [)low or the anvil to ney breaking out into every room
head the lists of the city in honor and with the broad, kindly smile of an
wealth. Genius can thrive only wlien open fire-place. \n the long kitchen
certain faculties are allowed to sub- the hearth-stone, of more than a ton's
jugate other ones to their needs, and weight, and eiglit feet long, stretches
this cannot go on so well in cities before the fire-place — watchful, rest-
where all ideas must more impartially ful,and clieering. An immense back-
come to the front. But genius is a log, as thick as a man's body, forms
kindly tyrant when upheld by the the foundation of the big, roaring
twin sisters Industry and Persever- fire, and around the leaping flames
ance, and the natural growth of the cluster privileged guests, while the
sturdy first settler whose individuality small aspirant for future honors sits
grew strong and rank in his forest in the corner of the fire-place study-
home. Shut out as he was from in- ing his horn book, or watching the
tercourse with the outside world, it stars that gleam so kindly above his
often bristled into points, however, head.
and anecdotes of our ancestors prove The brick oven has been thrice
the truth of this assertion. heated to bake pumpkin pies and
Deeds of courage, feats of strength, ginger-bread for the " s|)read," and
and tales of hunting valor show these the squire's wife is happily conscious
old worthies to have been worthies of the good things in the pantry as
indeed, but men who would have she sits placidly knitting. On this
pined and sickened in our day of night of the frolic the long kitchen
easy action. Prominent in every set- has been cleared, the settle and
tlement was the church, and around chairs are placed primly against the
this as the nucleus grew up those wall, while a stool for the fiddler seta
interchanges of civilities which finally on the table at the further end. The
were merged into merrymaking or crooked necked squashes still hang
frolics. by the fire-place ; long strings of
Early Manners and Customs. 25
dried apple are festooned oveihead ; story" was just as old then as now.
while groups of wooden candle-sticks At luiskings the blind god is impris-
nre nailed to the rafters. A huge oncd in the ear of red corn, the lirst
pile of corn extends the length of the fnuler being entitled thereby to kiss
kitchen ; and now the company Ix'gin whoever he chooses,
to arrive, on foot and on horseI)ack, l>ut tlie yellow corn lays bare of
the young man sitting in front, his girl iiusks now, and many hands make
behind him on a pillion. High tones liglit work of clearing the long
and merriment usher in eacii party, kitchen for the dance. Black Pelham
and jokes, making up in laughtei- mounts the stool on the table, tunes
what they lack in wit, fly about the his fiddle and rosins his bow, while
room. Homespun, that one year the cou[)les range themselves in long
covers the sheep, and the next, its lines down the kitclien : and then the
owner, sets well if not easily on the dance begins Agility and s[)eed
young man. His shirt collar, of took the place of grace in tliose days,
home-made linen, is uncomfortably and the ligiitest dancer was reckoned
high and stiff, as the red, tortured the best, — he who could spring
ears plainlv show (but what will one straiglit upward over a foot, keeping
not undergo to be well dressed !) ; time to the music, being a fine one iu-
a buff vest gleams in front, while a deed. It once happened that a young
swallow-tailed coat, from the pocket man sprang so high that he got en-
of which dangles a colored handker- tangled in the strings of dried apple,
chief, adorns the wearer; small-clothes and brought several yards of it on to
and buckled shoes complete the cos- the floor.
tume, — unless I speak of the hair, The husking ends early, and the
which is combed straight back to end young peo[)le go home none the worse
in a queue behind. Stout, honest, and for their frolic.
merry, the delicate beau of to-day can- The quilting was an afternoon
not compare with these "sparks" of a festival for the matrons and maidens,
bygone generation. And the girls, — ending by the men's coming to shake
white-necked, rosy-cheeked, briglit- the quilt, to eat supper with them,
eyed, and jolly, in their short-waist- and, sometimes, to dance awhile
ed, scant-skirted, big-sleeved, linsey- afterwards. The quilt was pieced of
woolsey gowns, with stout shoes, hair home-made flannel, dyed with indigo,
braided high and with ornaments of mulberry, or madder, and stuffed
gold beads or a silver comb ! What with wool. Tiie writer of this chap-
noble-hearted matrons they made, ter has an old quilt of this descrip-
and how we honor these great-grand- tion, which has been handed down
mothers of ours ! But the}' are not through several generations,
taking a peep into futurity, nor at us. The apple-bee was another sober
their unworthy descendants, but are festival ; but the junket was without
sitting in couples around the heaped- work, and a more ambitious one, oc-
up corn, singing old ditties, cracking casionally taking place at the " tav-
jokes, sipping home-made cider, and ern stand."
whispering love, — for the "old, old Training-day was a piece of mill-
26
Early Manners and Custojns.
tary display without doubt very
pleasant to the survivors of the Rev-
olution, while the general muster was
a grand review that called out all the
martial spirit of the day. Many old
people now living describe with great
interest the appearance of the troops
and officers, and relate anecdotes
concerning them.
But I linger too long on the border
land of to-da}'. Let us go back be-
yond the century. I find myself in
the church, or the meeting-house,
with its boxed-up pews, and the
women ranged soberly on one side,
the men on the other. The deacons'
pews and the squires', with other local
magnates, are at the front ; and, in
some places, the galleries are for in-
ferior people, while little niches high
up hold the colored worshippers.
Plainly our forefathers did not be-
lieve in equality upon earth, however
it might be in heaven. But the min-
ister ranked highest of all in the
social scale, a liberal education giv-
ing him a prominence borne out by
his calling. His wife often bore the
title of Lady, and the congregation
arose when she entered the church
and stood until she was seated. The
tithing-man with his rod stood watch-
ful and ready to quell the youngsters'
unseemly mirth, and to awaken the
brethren when they slumbered under
the lengthy sermon. The sounding-
board was fastened just above the
minister's head to throw the sounds
downward, and which, but for this,
it was thought, might fail to reach
the congregation. The prayer was
fervent and exhaustive, ending al-
ways with a petition for King George
and parliament. Then the hymn was
lined by the minister and sung by the
congregation. This was the dark
age in music, and I have seen it stat-
ed that a hymn begun in one tune
was only too apt to end in another
quite different, as every one sung as
he listed, and the loudest singer came
out triumphant, dragging his tune ta
the front.
The women carried in their hands
a kerchief and prayer-book, with a
sprig of fennel or caraway to nibble,
as they were popularly supposed to
possess a keep-awake quality, not
always borne by the sermon. But
two hours in length ! Think of it, yoi>
who cavil at the half-hour sermon of
your pastor, who strives hard to put
the thoughts of a week into a nut-
shell for the benefit of the hurried
worshippers. Tennyson's Northern
Farmer, stupid, sottish, and conceit-
ed, says, —
"An' I halliis corned to schoorch afoor my Sallf
wor dead,
An' 'eprd 'em a bummin' awaay loike a buzzard-
clock ower mv ypiid ;
An' I niver knawed what a mean'd, but 1 thowt a
'ad summuf to saiiy.
An' I thowt a said what a owt to a said, an' I
comed awaay "
But our northern farmer was dif-
ferent. Critical, conscientious. God-
fearing, he came to hear the Word,
with a spice of dissent, and a daring
mind tiiat was ever ready to argue
upon baptism, regeneration, and fore-
ordination with the minister, who was
himself often a man of character.
Parson Moody, who was settled
over the first church in New Hamp-
shire, had a faitli as great as that of
the early martyrs, but bright, hope-
ful, and humane. Tradition tells us
that he took a pair of shoes from his
wife's feet to give to a worthy but
unfortunate person, and then knelt
down and prayed fervently for an-
other pair to replace them. His faith
was requited, for a pair of shoes soou
arrived.
The Old North Church of Concord. 2*]
THE OLD NORTH CHURCH OF CONCORD.
Read in the Abbott Chapel, Jan. 27, 18S7.
Upon this spot, where church and chapel stand,
But eiglit score years ago was wild-wood land.
Here tangled forests echoed to the tread
Of dusky warriors and their war-whoop dread.
Where now yon shapely spire points to the sky,
Were loft}' pines with summits full as iiigh,
Beneath whose branches, in the grateful shade,
Have wandered Indian brave and Indian maid.
Here in their wigwams by the river side
Have countless generations lived and died ;
Here were their pleasures few, their many woes ;
Here were their feasts, their battles with their foes.
Here, when their lords to hunt or fish had gone,
The squaws would cultivate their patch of corn.
Here lived the mighty chieftain of their race,
In war so valiant, cunning in the chase.
Now all have disappeared and left no trace
Save in the names whicii dignify the place.
Contoocook, Merrimack, and Soucook, too,
And Penacook, are names they left to you.
For them no cemetery was laid out,
Their dust o'er hill and vale is spread about.
Were they unhappy? Let us view the case :
They had the pleasures of the hunt and chase ;
They had no rum-shops in or near the place ;
They had no politicians, no ring rule ;
The boys and girls were not confined in school.
They had no counting-house, no shop, no mill ;
They had no gas, no coal, no butcher's bill.
They had no pigs, nor cows, nor hens to feed ;
Of saw, and axe. and books they had no need.
They had no engine shrieking through the night ;
Thev had no motor, and no horse to fright.
They had no parlors then to sweep and dust,
No nickle-plated silver-ware to rust ;
No contribution box, no bank to burst ;
No tariff high or low, and no free-trade ;
Of competition they were not afraid.
28 The Old North Church of Concord.
They had no corporations then to fear,
And no hand-organs rasping on tlie ear.
They lived on venison and salmon-tront,
And on the whole knew what they were about.
In fact, our friends, the aborigines.
Of trouble borrowed none, and lived at ease, —
Indeed had no one but themselves to please.
Into this Indian paradise there came
A white man from the south in search of game :
'Twas Ebenezer Eastman, known to fame.
This Ebenezer was of great renown,
And claimed as pioneer in many a town.
Behind him came the Walkers, Bradleys, too.
The Ballards, Farnums, Abbotts, Smiths a few.
The Kimballs. Chandlers, Holts, — good men and true.
With Christian zeal their manly hearts were warmed :
Here in the wilderness a church they formed.
They laid out present Main street, straight and wide,
And built a meeting-house close by its side ;
Divided land in lots of equal size.
And in their ways were circumspect and wise.
When they had finished preparations all.
The Reverend Timothy Walker had a call
To settle as their pastor in the fall.
For over fifty years he led his flock —
In times of peace and in the fearful shock
Of Indian wars brou^lit on bv foreio-n hate,
When many settlers met tlieir frightful fate.
He served them faithfully until the end,
A As pastor, justice, counsellor, and friend.
For them his house was made into a fort ;
For justice pleaded in a foreign court ;
He faced the storms upon the ocean's breast;
His life he gave to labor — not to rest.
No doubt he had his hair done in a queue,
Wore silver buckles and knee-breeches too.
We think he could distinguisli right from wrong ;
We know his cane was nearly five feet long.
We think he rather liked his joke and fun ;
We know that he could handle sword or gun.
He christened children, funeral sermons preached,
Joined man and maid when proper age was reached ;
Attended to his duties, great and least.
The Old North Church of Concord. 29
For all the country round was toachcM-, irricst.
In fjict his parish was the township wide ;
From distant farms they gathered to his side.
From Turtle pond, from Broken Ground near by,
From Break o' Day, and from the Mountain high,
From the Dark Plain, and from the Sugar Ball,
From Long pond. Horse hill, and from vSewall's fall,
From Mast Yard. Garvin's, Millville, Turkey pond,
Would gather children and their parents fond
At the old meeting-house at the North End,
To hear the sermons of their reverend friend.
Some came afoot, with shoes and socks in hand :
To save the leather was this method planned.
Some came on horseback with the wife behind :
The horse-block where they landed one will find
In Mr. Walker's door-yard at North End,
To prove my statement and the truth defend.
For many years the church and town were one —
Long after Mr. Walker's work was done.
The Reverend Israel Evans next was called,
Then A. McFarlaud was in turn installed.
Then fresh from Yale and Andover there came
Nathaniel Bonton, — honored be his name ! —
Whose history of the town increased his fame.
'Twas here he labored from his early youth
To green old age, instilling gospel truth.
His heart led him his Maker to adore,
His iiead was filled with antiquarian lore ;
He loved not history less, but Scripture more.
E'en now there seems to linger round this place
His gentle presence and his noble face.
Next came our present pastor, Mr. Ayer,
Who now for twenty years has held the care
Of church and flock, and lead us on the way.
The old, the young, the sad ones and the gay,
To where he teaches is eternal day.
If Mr. Chase will now the church doors lock,
Or hold them firmly as tlie granite rock,
And let no guilty one from here escai)e
Save o'er his mangled form and manly shape,
We '11 try X.o pliotograph for you the flock,
But no one's sensibilities will shock.
3© The Old North Church of Concord.
We first will note our agricultural friend
From Watanummon's brook at the " north end."
All through the state have greedy grangers hung
Upon the accents of his silver tongue.
From classic Yale he came, and saw no harm
To cultivate his fame and till his farm.
'Tis said he was presented to the queen
As representative of grangers green.
We have with us an unpretentious man
Who gives his time to study, thought, and plan.
With stores of solid wisdom he is blessed,
His high authority bv all confessed.
They like them most who know the Pillsburys best.
If in our title we should find a flaw,
And were compelled to grapple with the law,
We have with us a man of legal lore.
Who knows not onlv law but something more :
Of wisdom Justice Dana hath a store.
The best of men are sometimes rather small,
The largest men are oft not good at all :
We cannot judge of goodness by the size :
We do not know, we hardly realize
How much of good in Deacon Farnum lies.
O"
However, in our 3'onth we learned at school
That some exceptions did but prove the rule :
When nature builds on her most lavish plan,
She often gives all virtues to the man : —
Hath she not done so with good Captain Ann?
Of deacons we could have as many more,
But as it is, we get along with four :
There's Smith, and Morrison, and Ballard, too,
Each one a Christian leader, tried and true.
And still another, not yet quite so old.
Modest and pure, and, if the truth were told,
As true as steel, as good as Moulton gold.
Our youthful choir I hope are somewhere near,
That they a word of honest praise may hear.
Each of the singers hath a pleasing voice,
And, when they sing in concert, make a noise
Which hath a charm to sooth the savage ear,
The Old ]Vo7't/i Church of Concord. 31
And wring from liardest heart a silent tear.
To all of us the choir is very dear :
We are attached because they are so nice,
We would not hint they 're " dear at any price."
Our organist deserves a word of praise,
Who only for the love of music plays.
He filled the old North church with music sweet :
To him and to us all 't would be a treat
To have him play again as in old days.
For Doctor Carter was the organ bouoht :
I think we all esteem him as we ought.
Oh ! may he speedily his health regain —
Be strong and well, and with us once again.
We should, however, rank beneath the brute,
Did we not value high his substitute.
Our Jewels bright we do not wish to scorn,
Nor skip another, though a constant Thorne.
From old colonial days are handed down
Familiar Ballards, known about the town.
From Charlestown, when the British fled, we find
The Bunkers came, but left the hill behind.
Wisconsin sends to us a chieftian brave
Whom I will mention, nor his blushes save :
Of warlike anecdote he hath a fund : —
A warrior battle-scarred is General Lund.
Nor should we leave the Abbotts in the lurch,
For thev, indeed, are longest in the church.
From them we get the latest Vassar lore,
And knightly deeds as in the days of yore.
While some with New Year's a new leaf will turn,
We turn two Pages, who for wisdom yearn,
And still have many pages yet to learn.
They only seem to care for public weal,
And labor for the common good with zeal.
From Scotland came the Stewarts, who can trace
Their lineage straight from Scotland's royal race.
The family here rank quite as high as when
In Scotland they were lords and noblemen.
And cut a roval swell, the storv goes,
And could wear antique armor when they chose,
While here they cut a royal suit of clothes.
32 The Old JVorth Church of Concord.
We have with us a scholar versed, indeed,
In all the wisdom human beings need : —
A ready writer, clear, concise ; and cool,
Etflcient teacher in his [)rivate school ;
A man already widely known to fame —
Why deed I mention Amos Hadley's name?
If banks we want, we need be at no loss
While we have amiable and gentle Cross.
Indeed we run the very smallest risk
In leaving all our wealth with Mr. Fiske.
One thing alone prevents our being rash, —
Not want of confidence, but — want of cash !
We have with us a politician grav,
Not one, however, who will friends betray ;
A grateful state enlists him in her cause,
And trusts him with the making of the laws :
From Enoch Gerrish, senator-elect.
The highest statesmanship we may expect.
Now many more would my attention claim.
To fitly honor or [)ronounce the name ;
But there, the door you need no longer hold,
Although my story is but partly told :
There are so many gathered in one fold,
I cannot do full justice to them all, —
Perhaps would better not have tried at all.
But if you will for just a moment wait,
I will a very mournful tale relate :
\It is the sad and melancholy fate
Of one who tried to pass St. Peter's gate,
But was, I grieve to say, a little late.
But better late than never, I contend.
To brino; my nonsense rhvme to sudden end.
Abraham Lincoln.
33
ABRAHAM LINCOLN'
Appropriately Jionored bi/ the Iic])uhlicans of Neio Hampshire at the Second Banquet
of the Lincoln Club, at the Eagle Hotel in Concord,
Tuesday Evening, Feb. 13, 1887.
[From the Concord ^[onitor.'\
In point of numbers, enthusiasm, and elo-
quence, the meeting of the Lincoln Club of
New Hampshire at the Eagle hotel, Tuesday
evening, was so great a success that it will long
be remembered as one of the most notable
events in the history of the Republican party
in New Hampshire. The attendance was not
only very large, but it was made up of repre-
sentative Republicans from all parts of the
state. Under the direct supervision of the sec-
retary', M. J. Pratt of this city, the arrange-
ments had been made so complete that there
were no unpleasant delays and no disappoint-
ments. John L. Clark acted as treasurer in
the unavoidable absence of Hon. E. H. Wood-
man. The seating of the large company at the
banquet tables was admirably looked after by
Charles A. Herbert and Will W. Stone, and
Norris A. Dunklee acted as door-keeper.
Blaisdell's orchestra gave a delightful concert
in the office of the hotel from 8 to 9, and dis-
coursed choice music during the hour and a
half that the discussion of the menu was in
progress.
The banquet is pronounced the best ever
served in this city ; it certainly reflected the
highest credit on Col. John A. White, the
Eagle Hotel, and all who had a share in its
preparation and its completion. The menu
card bore on one side, "Eagle Hotel, Concord,
N. H., Tuesday, February 15th, 1887."
Above the menii was a portrait of Mr. Lin-
coln, over-arched by the words "Lincoln Club
of New Hampshire. " The dinner was served
admirably in courses, and was as foUows :
Oysters on Deep Shell.
Clear Soup.
Chicken Halibut. i otato Croquetts.
Fillet of Beef with Mushrooms.
iSoued Turkey with Jelly.
Lettuce. Vei/etables. Celery.
CLlcken Salad.
Orange Sherbet.
Larded Grouse.
Saddle of Venison, Currant Jelly.
Vanilla Ice Cream. Assorted Cakes.
Green and Dry Fruit.
Tea. Coffee.
At the head of the table in the centre of the
dining haU sat the president of the club, Col.
Charles H. Sawyer of Dover ; on his right
were Hon. C. H. Burns of Wilton, Capt. Hen-
ry B. Atherton of Nashua, Hon. Henry Rob-
inson of this city. Attorney- General Barnard of
Franklin, Hon. AVilliam E. Chandler of Con-
cord, Hon. David H. Goodell of Antrim, Hon.
John J. Bell of Exeter, and Councillor Peter
Upton of East Jaffrey ; Councillor B. A. Kim-
ball of this city occupied the position opposite
the president, and on the latter' s left were
Rev. A. P. Rein, pastor of White Memorial
Universalist church of this city, Col. Daniel
Hall of Dover, Charles R. Corning of this city,
Hon. 0. C. Moore of Nashua, Hon. Edward H.
Rollins of this city, Hon. Dexter Rieliards of
Newport, Councillor C. W. Talpey of Farm-
ington, and Councillor M. L.Morrison of Peter-
borough. Before the members of the club
took their seats at the handsome tables, grace
was said by Rev. Mr. Rein. After the sever-
al courses of the banquet had been duly con-
sidered. President Sawyer arose, and gracefid-
ly opened the speaking of the evening as fol-
lows :
Gentlemex of the Lincoln Club: It gives
me pif asui e to see such a large attendance here to-
ii'Srht at this second meeting of tlie Lincoln Club of
New Hampshire. It coufirms what seemeil app ir-
eut Sit the first meetintr, that there is a strong in-
terest felt iu tliis ort:aniz itioii by the Republicans
of the state. We miiy reasonably hope that
as a means of bringing togetlier members from
throuo-hout the state it will not only be a benefit
socially, but a'so a valuable and efficient aid in
promoting tlie interests of tbe party.
We are here to ce'ebrate the anniversary of the
birth of Abraham Lincoln. Strictly, the mei ting
should have been on the 12th. That date occur-
ring this year on Saturday, it was thought advisa-
ble to defer it until this evening, as being more
convenient for members in attendance from
the more remote parts of the ftnte. The Club
could not have beeu more houorably or more ap-
propriately named.
The memory of Lincoln is growing to be more
and more liouored and revered with the lapse of
time. It is a name that appeals to the hearts and
sympathy of a loyal and grateful people. A man
of the humblest origin, he was destined by Piovi-
dence to lead this nation through the terrible and
mo I entous struggle which was to demonstrate to
34
Abraham Lincoln.
the world that we were a nation, and that a repub-
lican foru-. of government couM be ra lintaiiifd
uji'ler the irreatest strain to which it could be sub-
jected—that "f civil war His great services end-
ed with his life, and he will be ranked with Wash-
ington ill the heirts of his countrymen, Mnd in his.
to'-y as one ot the greatest benetautors of the hu-
man race.
SPEECH OF CAPT. H. B. ATHERTON.
The address of Captain Atherton was well
delivered and extremely interesting. It was
as follows :
Mr. President and Gentlemen: I first saw
Abraham Lincoln in the spring ot 18.i4. The news
tliat Senator Douglass hal reported from his com-
mittee a bill repealing the Missouri Compromise
h^d runsr out through the country 'like a tire-bell
ill the night." The state of Illinois wis ablaze
with indignation. I was at Springfield at the
meeting of the extra session of the legislature iu
February, when that measure w is under discus-
sion, and 1 well remember the intense excitement
of the occasion. Shortly after, on the 22d of
March, it became ray good fortune to listen to the
trial of a cause in tlie Morgan county court in
which Mr. Lincoln t'>ok part as couns 1. He was
associated with Judge Brown of Springfield for
Vo,f defence. A Mr. Smith and Murray McConnel
of Jacksonville were the plaintiff's lawyers. The
suit was brought by Silsby, editor of the Jackson-
ville t/^wrz/a/, a free soil paper, gainst one Dun-
lap, a pro-slavtTf Democrat, for a personal assault
wiiich had been provoked by some politicil or per-
sonal allusion ti> him in the paper. I remember
that my sympathies were wholly wiih the plaintiff
and against Mr. Lincoln's client, for the assault
had been an aggravated one with a cane, and as a
boy, with rather strong anti-slavery procliviiies, I
was prejudiced against the defendant, his conduct,
his politics, and very likely against his counsel
also; and y^t I was delighted with the argument
of Mr Lincoln, which made a lasting impression
on my mind. I recall the expr-ctitiou I had that
"Judge" Brown was to do something commensu-
rate with his title, anil the surprise I felt t lat he
was so much surpassed by his ftssociate. The jury
gave the plaintiff .fSiiO, and ought probably to have
given him more; but that night I put down in my
not? book. "Mr. Lincoln is a very good speaker,"
and that was very true.
Thou J h then 45 years old, he was but little known
outside his own state. He had been in the practice
of the law seventeen years. He had served two or
three terms in the state legislature and one in Con-
gress, and, as candidate for presidenti il electo'-,
had stumped the state both in 1840 and 1844 for the
Whig party.
Before he began to study law he had begun to
advo'iate those principles which later made him a
representative Republican. In 18 <2, when he an-
nounced liraself at the age of twenty-three a can-
didate for the legislature, he sdd, in whit must
have been about his first political speech, "I am in
favor of the internal improvement system and a
high protective tariff." i wenty-three years later,
when his most intimate friend, Speed, inquired of
him how he stood, he wroe, "I ihink I am a
Whig. * * « I now do no more than
oppose the extension of slavery. I am not a Know
Nothing : that is certain. How could I be? How
could any one who abhors the oppression of negr.ies
be in favor of d gi ading classes of white people ?"
Sprung from the ranks of the "plain people"
himself, nis sympathies were always with tlie poor.
Born among the poor wliites of a border slave
state, where labor wis degraded, good schools
made impossible, and the door to advancement
closed by the b'ight of hiimm slavery, he had,
through hi-i own experience and that of hin parents
before him, become cons ious of the great wrong
and injustice to the wliites, and the great misery
and wretche Iness to the negroes caused by slavery.
His kind heart could not witness unmoved the dis-
tress of a dumb anitnal, and much less could he
bear to see the oppressed slaves at their unrequited
toil. Poverty, weakness, distress, or misfortune
never appealed to him in vain.
He sought distinction wit lout diszuise or hypoc-
risy. He covete I the good will of his fellow-men,
but always sought to merit it. He was intellectual-
ly as Well as morally honest, and as he never de-
ceived others so, he neper deluded himself. Of
such material were the men who originated the
Republican party, and Mr. Lincoln was a fair rep-
resentative of that party, .i vast majority of its
voters were working men, intelligent, conscien-
tious, and patriotic.
Within the uast few years men have protested
against being compelled to compete with the labor
of a few hundreil unpaid convicts in the prisons, or
of a few thousand economical Chinese on the Pa-
cifi ; coast, who with no families or c'urches to
su|)port, are able to underbid in the labor market
the honest Christian, who lives like a man, sup-
ports his wife a'ld chddren, sustains schools and
churches, and performs his whole duty as a citizen:
and I believrt there is some ground for an open and
manly protest in that direction. But the grievance
from tuese sources is the merest trifle compared
with the intolerable competi ion of three millions
of "chattels real," — African slaves fed on the
coarsest of food, clothed with the cheapest of gar-
ments, and working for no pay whatever. That
WIS the substantial grievance which the white
workingmen of t'le country, uniting under the
name ot the R-^publican party, openly combined
to meet. It cheapened the wiges of the white man.
It cast odium on honest labor — that blessing in dis-
guise without which no race ever emerged from bar-
barism, and no individual ever attained to a whole-
some and healthy growth. It retarded civilization,
denied the rights of man, and was at war with our
free institutions. It grew strong, aggressive, and
detiant. It proclaimad "('otton is knig!" and cap-
italists at the North timidly bowed before His Maj-
esty.
Making use '"f the Democratic party as its agent
and instrument, slavery began an advance along
the whole line. The oiijective points of this con-
certed movement were to nationalize slavery and
ultimately to reopen the African slave trade, and
thereby still further to cheapen labor. Men
brought cargoes of slaves from the Congo coast and
landed them on the shores of the Southern states
■w itli no apparent fear or danger of punisument.
The area for slavery was enlarged by waging a war
of doubtful justice upon a sister republic ami de-
spoiling her of a large portion of her territory.
The fugitive slave law was passed which compelled
free men in the North at the will of a United
States marshal to take the place of blood-hounds
in the South in hunting down the fugitive flying
from an intolerable thralldom. Iu the U. S su-
preme court the Dre<l Scott decision was obtained,
in which it was ainiounced that noslaveor descend-
ant of a slave cou'd be a person entitled to the
right of habeas corpus, or trial by juiy, and that
neither Congress nor a territorial legislature could
exclude slavery from the territories. The court
would not admit that even the state legislatures
could exclude slavery from their respective states ;
and it was believed tiiat their next step would be to
declare that the st ites had not the power under
the constitution. The Lemon slave case was al-
ready going through the New Ym-k courts, where
in the court of appe lis I heard Charles O'Connor
argue a'jainst WilliaTu M. Evarts that a Southern
slaveholder coulil voluntarily bring his "chattels"
into New York, and they were not thereby nude
free, but he might retain possession of them and
take them back to the South. Robert Toombs pro-
posed to call the roll of his slaves beneath the
shadow of Bunker Hill monument. To this end
the three de lartments of the general government
were working in harmony.
The Missouri ('omproniise had dedicated to free-
dom the territories north of 36 deg 30 min., and was
thought by many to be as binding as the constitu-
tion it -elf. The good f ith of both sections was
pledged taits maintenance. The slaveholders had
Abraham Lincoln.
35
control of the Democrat io party, and no person,
unless lie was willing; to do their bidding, could
hope tor advancement within that piity. That
was the situation wlien, on the 'I'MK ot Januaiy.
1854, Stephen A. Di)u<^las, as a bid tor tlie next
president al noniination of his i)aity, iiitiodnced
Itito the senate tUn famous Kansas-Ntbraska bill,
repealing the Miss"uri Compromise. Nolioily in
Illinois had asked Mr. Dcuifjlas to take that step.
It was the order of the slave power, and the pas-
sage of the bill wis a declaration of war on the
part of the South. Very soon b ith parties began
to throw (int skirmishers into Kansas, and the result
of the preliminary struggle was witi the North.
It I ad bffome evident to the minds of such men
as William H. SeWiird a d Abraham Line In that
the "irrepressible conflict between oppi sing and
endurini forces" had begun. It was in the open-
ing sentence of his great ^peech of the 17th of June,
1858, that Mr. Lincoln s;ud,— "A house divided
against itself cannot stand I believe that this
government cannot eu'ite permanently half slave
and half free. I do not expect the ITnion to be
dissolved. I do not expect the iiouse will tall; but
I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will be-
come all one thing or all the oth»'r. Either the
opponeiits of si very will arrest the 1 urth r spread
of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest
in the belief th.it it is in course of ultimate extinc-
tion, or its advoc;itPS will push it forward till it
shall become alike lawful in all the states, old as
well as new, Noith as well as South."
The course of Mr. Douglas having made him
the most conspicuous of the nemocratic leaders in
the North, his ambition was no longer limited to
the Senate or any place within the gift of the peo-
ple ot Illinois. He now aspired to the presidpncy
of the United States. For twenty years Mr. Lin-
coln bad been his rival and competit< r, antagoniz-
ing him step by step. He had nu t him repeatedly
in oebat •, and had answered his arguments on the
tariff and internal improvements, and, more recent-
ly, upon the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and
"popular sovereignty," until he had come to be
recognized as the champion of the free >tate men.
Od all sides it was expected of him that he should
again take the stump in opposition to Mr. Doug-
las ana the aggressions of the sbive power. The
famous deb ite of 1858 between them made Mr.
Lincoln well known to the whc.le country, and
wit'iout doubt the si iial abili'y which he then
displayed, the moderation and fairness of his
views, coupled with his inflexible tirmness for the
right, made him the candidate of the Republican
party in 18§0.
In his speeches he did not deal in second-hand
ideas His practical tr lining prevented his being
bookish or fond of abstractions From his own
wide experience with men and nature he drew
illustrations familiar to himsf If aTid to his audi-
ences. He was not inclined to the use of invective,
and was slow to applj hard names to his oppo-
nents He prefered 'o appeal to their intelligence
and sense of iiistice, an to convince them
through their reason. He never undertook to per-
suade men by personal abuse. In his public dis-
cussions he seems to have neen always charitable
towar s those who dirt'ered with him, apparently
believing they might be honestly wrong, and seek-
ing to win them to his way of thinking. He
never claimed for himself or hi- party all the wis-
dom ami viitue of the country, nor denied a fair
share to his oppon. nts ; and" yet U'der his wise
counsel, and in a large mea ure by his efforts, the
anti-s'avery Whigs, the free-soil' Democr<t-i, the
abolitionists, the constitutional uninn men of
Illinois, anil, to a certain extent, of the ciuntiy
at large, were united in one homogeneous whole,
welded into the Republican party, — a party which
has done more for x\\- ni' ral and material welfare
of this country than any other party has ever d ine
for any country si ce the dawn ot civilizatio' .
With the war for the Union waued and won, with
slavery r>. ndered irapotsible forever hereatt-r,
with the Pacific Riilwav built, and a generous
homestead given to every settler, all uiuier the ad-
ministration of the first president elected by that
party, the country has gone on in a course of pros-
perity never equalled before, and has grown so in
j)opiilalion, and so multinliri'l all those comforts
ami necessa'ies of life which go to make up the
collective we 1th of a peo)ile. that it has become
the most populous, the wealthies', and, I may add,
the most powerful natioi: in Christendom. It leads
the van of civilization.
Rut it is natural for us to be not quite satisfied.
It is hard to let well enough alone. Toe best is not
quite good enough; and it is as well so, otherwise
if we were too easily coutent we sboul i make no
progress. In this age of boycotts, lockouts, and
strike", su cessful and otherwise, we hear a great
deal about socialism, communism, niliilistu, anar-
chy, the land ques'tion, and vaiious other move-
ments founded on the assumption that capital mustf
always of necessity bw at war with labor. On this
assuin|)tion the workingman is invited to align
himself w.th this or that movement, and by so do-
ing better his en ition. Now, there was a time
when to a certain extent labor was at war with
capital. That was the time when the Democratic
party said c ipital had a right tob.iy and own labor.
The Republican party, composed as it was of work-
ingmen, took the opposite view, and said the con-
verse of th-i proposition is true, and that instead of
capital owning tlie laborer, the laborer should own
the ca|)itul, as mu h of it as possible; and for the
past thirty years that party has done everything to
help him to take t lat position with regard to capi-
tal. A high protective tariff gives high wages to
the workm m, and, so long as his tea and coffee,
his beef and flour, his hou-ie rent and doctor's bills,
and nine-tenths of his clothii g pay no duty, the
co*t of living is not perceptibly increased by the
tariff. By reason of the protective tariff, advocat-
ed by Lincoln in 1832 and put in operation under
his administration by a Republican Congress, hun-
dre 's of thousanr's ot laborers have found com-
fortable homes in this country, who, but for that
Reput'lican measure, would have had no pecuniary
inducement to come t > us across the Atlantic.
Upon thi^ que tion of the relation between labor
and capital, which to-day perplexes the minds of a
gooii many hone?t men, we are not left without
words of gu dance from the sagacious and far-see-
ing Lincoln In his message to Congress in Decem-
ber, 1861, no' w thstanding the public mind was
intent ui>oii the pro-ecution of the war, he spoke
of the attempt of the Confederacy to place capital
on an equal footing, if not above labor, and enum-
erated fallacious assumptions on which they pro-
ceeded. He said they assumed that labor is avdil-
able only in com ection with capital ; that nobody
labors unless induced thereto by somebody else
owning capital, either by hiring or owning the
laborer ; that w hoever is a hired laborer is flxed in
that condition tor life. "Now," he said, "there is
no such relation between capital and labor as
assumed ; nor is there any such thing as a free man
being fixed for life in the condition of a hired
labo er. Both these assumptions are false, and all
inferences from them are groundless. Labor is
piior to and independent of cipital. Capital is
only the fruit of labor, and could never have exist-
ed if labor h.ad not first existed. Labor is the supe-
rior of capital, and deserves much the hiiiher con-
sideration. Capital has its rights, which are as
worthy of protection as any other rights." He s id
a few men possess capital, and with their capital
hire another few to labor for them, but a large
majority North and South, were neither masters
nor si IV. s, hirers nor hired. Men, with their fami-
lies, wives, sons, and daughters, work f"r them-
selves on their farn^s, in their houses, and in their
shops, tik'ng their whole product to themselves,
and asking no favors of capital on tue one hand or
hired laborers on the other.
"Again," Mr. Lincoln repeat-, "there is not of
necessity any such thing as the free hired laborer
being fixe to that condition for life," and then he
ailded in words, whic'i, though I read them first
while in carnf) in Vi -uiiiii more than twenty-five
years ago, I think I shall never forget because they
ure so true of our people: ".Many independent
men eveiywhere in these states a fiw yeirs bick in
2,^
Abra/iani Lincoln.
their lives were hired laborers. The prudent, pen-
niless beginner in the world labors for wages
awhile, saves a surplus with whicli to buy tools or
land for himself, then labors on lis own ai'count
another while, and at len-zth hires another new be-
gjinnertohelphim.Tliisis the just and generous and
prosperous system which opens the way to all,
gives hope toall, and consequent energy and prog-
re^s and improvement of c jndition to all. No men
living Hre more worthy to be trusted than those
who toil up from poverty ; none less in dined to
taU I- or touch aught which they have not honestly
earned."
T lese words of Abraham Lincoln are as wise and
true to-dny as they were when first uttered, and
they are still the d ictrine of the Republican party.
,Wliile capital has a right to protection, labor is
still its superior. We recognize the fact tiiat hn-
DiHU beings are of more consequence than d jUars,
that persons are more precious than things, and,
h ippily for the workingman, imder a fre^ govern-
ment, the parry that by precept or example teaches
oth-rwise, will soon tiecome a mere plutocratic
remnant without v^tes
I c jMgrntulate the members of our club upon the
na lie we have assumed, and I venture to predict,
that so lon'i as the Republicans of Nhw Hampshire
continue to honor the na'ne of Lincoln and tollow
his example and teachiims, they wi'l deserve and
continue to receive the support of a great majority
of the intelligent people ot the state.
• SPEECH OF COL. DANIEL HALL.
The oration of Colonel Hall received the
close attention of every one present, and was
able and eloquent. It was as follows :
Mr. President: I understand that I am ex-
pected to occupy a few minutes of your time in
speaking of " Abraham Lincoln as a Man." The
theme is too large for me, and crushes me at the
beginning. It is like speaking of the sun: and as.
while we stand in the full efiiilgenee of that great
luminary, flooding the world with its light and
warmth and life-giving power, it is impossible to
disentangle and analyze its various and many-hued
rays of benelicence, so is it difficult to emphasize
any separate aspects of this illustrious and many-
sided character. The mere character of a great
man not seldom confers greater benefits upon the
nation, and upon the ejjoch in which he lives, than
any, or even all, of his specific achievements. I
have sometimes thought that such was the minis-
try to us of the life of Abraham Lincoln; for
though it \v:is given to him to connect his name
inseparably with some of the greatest events in our
history, — the overthrow of the Rebellion, the
maintenance of the Union, the emiincii)ation of the
slave, — yet, when we consider the great moral
authority his name has gained, the ideas and asso-
ciations'that cluster about that unique individual-
it) , how his iuHuonce and example and ])iecepts
have ui)lift<;d this jicople in their whole being, it
seems as if he had brought a new force into our
national life; had set in motion a tniin ot benign
influences which is to go on without limit, so that
in future his age is to lorm a new date and point
of depurtuie in our political calendar.
So familiar is his personality to us that we
scarcely need to know more of him; and yet I
think ail of us must be reading witn deep interest
the new Ul'e of him, which is apiiearing in "The
Century." and throwing fresh light upon his ori-
gin, his education, and his early career. There was a
special fitness in the birth, amid the poorest and
harshest surroundings, of him whose destiny it
was to assert for his country and his age the di-
vine right, not of kings, but of humanity, — the es-
sential e(|iiality of men, and their right to an
untrammellod liberty and an unfettered iiursuit of
hai)piness. No training in the schools entered into
his preparation for his great work, hut he lived
the lifeoCthe broad West, breathing its free and
invigorating air, and thus developed a sterling
manhood, health of body, and strength of limb,
truth in every word and deed, and a clearness of
vision and moral intrepidity which the schools
cannot supply. Thus reared, amid humble and
simple surroundings, he " mewed his mighty
youth" iu warfare upon
" The uncleared forest, the unbroken soil,
The iron bark that turns the lumberer's axe,
The rapid that oerbears tlie boatman's toil,
The prairie, hiding the mazed wanderer's tracks,
" The ambushed Indian and the prowling bear, —
Such were the needs that helped his youth to
train:
Rough culture — but such trees large fruit may
bear.
If but their stocks be of right girth and grain."
In such a mould his life took on that rough exte-
rior and homely garb which shaped it for all time,
and made him "in his simplicity sublime."
These struggles of pioneer lite were the bracing
on of the armor of Vulcan which equipped him for
deeds of hi;;h emi)rise ; they made him brave and
true, genuine and sincere, — one to whom duty
should be first, and the rights of man second; and
he grew up having in him what our ancestors,
with awful solemnity, called "the fear of God."
To his latest day he took on no veneer of polish :
he assumed no dramatic attitudes for dazzling the
eye or impressing the imagination, and was guilty
of no trickeries to cheat the judgment of contem-
poraries or ot posterity.
It is not necessary to trace Mr. Lincoln's path-
way, step by step, upward towards the high places
of the world. You are all familiar with the slow
but sure processes of liis growth and advancement.
His original abilities were of a high order. He
saw quickly and distinctly. His mind was clear,
and open to truth as the flowers are to the sunlight
and the dew. His reasonings were close and
sound. He was a man of power and effectiveness,
and so steadily did he grow in public esteem that
long before his great preferment was dreamed of he
enjoyed a popular regard almost unparalleled. No
stronger proof of his intellectual and moral ener-
gy can be cited than the rapid and strong hold
which he gained in due lime upon the patriotism,
the conlidence, and the faith of the country.
These elements crystallized with an unhesitating
abandon about liis name, and the strength and vi-
tality ot the free North took the color of his mind,
and became charged with his personality. That
he was a great lawyer, with vigorous powers of
logic and coni)iarison and illustration, and a
strong grasp ujioii legal principles, will be shown
to you by another, amply competent to present to
you that phase of his greatness; and I will not
trench upon his province.
He was also an orator of rare power. Before those
rather ruue audiences of the West, which had no
fastidiousness, and judged him by no nice sfgindard
of taste, he was grandly effective, and convinced
and sw;iyed them with consummate skill. With
them he employed, as he did xnerywhere, those
" rugged jihrases hewn Irom life," and that inimi-
table wit and genial humor which t(>stili(i(l to his
real seriousness, and' the zest and relish with which
he entered into the life around him. 'i ho severe
logic, the clearness and (•(nni)actiiess of statement,
the moral earnestness which struck a deeper chord
even than conviction. — all these apiiear in some of
his speeches in Congress, and notably in the re-
nowned debate liotween him and Douglas; and in
theseand hiscasual addresses, more still in his un-
studied conversations, there is to be loiind phrase
after phrase tiiat has the ring and the weight and
the sharp outline of a bronze coin. Hut he filled
also the requisites of a higher and more exacting
criticism. Though unlearned, and without the
graces of the schools, he was soineliines gifted with
the loftiest eloquence. On great occasimis, written
and spoken sjjeech has rarely risen to higher levels
than from his lips. Some of his utterances, in-
stinct with solemn thoiightfulness. and illustrated
by beauty of diction, a sententious brevity, and
Abraham Lincoln.
37
felicitous turns of oxprossion, such as tlio Cooper
Institute speech, his inau;;urul sHldresse^, and llie
oration iit (iettysl)ui jr, are iiiasteriiitces. to live and
resound as lonsr iis llu^ Knulisli loiiijue survives.
Mr. I,incoln aii^wci-cd. as I tiiink. another oftlie
uncrrinj; ti.-ts of fircatiiess. in his marked individ-
uality, and his uni(|ue uidikeness.to everybody else.
He had no alleclation of siiiRularitv, and yet he
cri-ated a distinctness of inipre?^siou which seems to
point him out as a tvjie by hinisell. a distiucit spe-
cies created by the Divine hand in the evolution of
time. His imase on our vision is not a blur, but
is as distinctly and sharply cut as the outline of a
oameo, or
"The dome of Florence drawn on the deep blue
sky."
No other jjreat man as yet in the least resembles
him; and if my friends, we are so happy one day
as to meet the shades of the };reat in the Elysian
tields, we shall know that e.xalted spirit at a glance,
and we shall no more mistake the identity of Abra-
ham Lincoln than we shall that of C;psar or Croin-
well or iSapoleon, AVashinjjton or Grant. Nature
stamps her particular sign-manual upon each of her
supi-emely {Treat creations, and we may be sure that
she broke the die in moulding Lincoln.
'I"o a club which has honored itself by taking his
great name, an inquiry into Mr. Lincoln's concep-
tion of politics must ever be a study of the deepest
interest. In the first place, he icaa a politician from
the crown of his head to the sole of his toot, and,
himself pure, sober, temperate, chaste, and incor-
ruptible, he never shrank from what the mawkish
sentimentality of our day affects to condemn and
sneer at as the vulgarity of engaging in politics.
He entered with ardor into the political life around
him; he engaged in partv caucuses, conventions,
and gatherings; he mixed in the political manage-
ment of his state, his county, his district. Ins town-
ship, and received no contamination thereby. He
conceived this to be the duty of every citizen of a
free republic, and no word discouraging political
activity ever fell from his lips. He carried into his
politics the same morality tliat he used in his daily
dealings with clients and friends. He was incapa-
ble ot intrigue, he was true and transparent, and
no duplicity ever stained his integrity. He studied
the currents of pidjiic opinion, not as a demagogue
to slavishly follow them, but from a profound con-
viction that, as to times and means, all men are
wiser than any one man, and from a real respect
for the will of the people, to which he ever render-
ed a genuine homage. He sought no power. He
was too healthy and natural to be disturbed by anv
troubled dreams of a great destiny : and if he had
ambition, it was free from vulgar taint. But in
power he never forgot his trusteeship for the peo-
ple, and he never lost elbow-touch with those to
whom he rendered
"The constant service of the antique world.
When service sweat for duty, not lor meed."
The world knew, therefore, that glory, or vanity,
or lust of power had no place in that pure heart.
" His ends were his countiy's, his God's, and
truth's," and thus did he earn the proud title of
" Statesman, yet friend to truth ! of soul sincere,
In action faithful, and in honor clear;
Who broke no promise, served no private end,
Who gained no title, and who lost no friend."
Therefore, 3Ir. President, I claim that liis whole
life is a standing reproof tf) the flippant notion and
the -keptical and cynical fling that polities is a dis-
honest game. He was a politician trom the outset;
and if there is one lesson inculcated hereto-day
by his life and character, it is that politics in a free
government affords the loftiest themes of thought
and the grandest theatre of action for men of great
, and consecrated powers. He was a sti iking proof
that the honestest politics is the best politics, that
the greatest prizes are gained by unselfish souls,
and that, in fact, there is in decent politics no room
for a dishonest man. Here was a man devoted all
his life to politics in America, with a zeal and in-
tensitv which left him no time for the study of any-
thing hut jiolitics. and the law by which he gained
his meagre livelihood; and if, as has been said,
there is something narrowing in the jiiolession of
hiw, ami degrading in the jiursuit of politics, surely
Abraham Lincoln ilid not e.xeniplify it, nor did he,
" born for the universe, narrow his ndnd,
And to party give up what was meant lor man-
kind."
After his great elevation, his si)eeclies and state
l)apers are replete with pioofs or his political in-
sight, his clearness of vision, and his far-reaclnng
views. He saw vividly the great considerations
which determinj'd his duty, and that of his party,
on the question of disunion He felt in his own
breast the pulsations of this mighty land. He saw
his country and her splendid opportunities tor a
great race for empire, — no oceans or mountains
dividing, great riveis connecting, a common ori-
gin, a common history, common traditions, a com-
mon language, continuity of soil, and a great posi-
tion in the family of nations which unity alone
could secure. He rose to the full height of the
Issues involved. He knew that should the South
succeed in winning independence " the cloth once
rent would be rent again;'' that there would no
longer be one America, but many Americas; that
the New World would tread over again in the
bloody tracks of the Old ; that there would be rival
communities, with rival constitutions, Democracies
lapsing Into military despotisms, intrigues, dissen-
sions, and wars following on wars. 'Iherefore this
man, so gentle, so mild, so peace-loving, that every
shot sent a pang to his own heart, could give the
word of command, and. with unbending will, see
the United States tear open their veins, and spill
their blood in torrents that they might remain one
people. But throughout the sanguinary carnival
through which he was forced to lead us for four
loug years, Mr. Lincoln's natuie remained true
and tender and forgiving. No bitterness and no
uncharltableness usurped any place In hl» heart.
I'liere was not hing local op provincial in his patriot-
Ism. Notwithstanding the insults and contempt
lavished upon himself, despitethe injury and wrong
done to what ho held dearer than hlinselt, — the
Union and the liberty which it made possible, — he
still enfolded the .South in his warmest affections.
His whole public life Is full of evidences of this
breadth of view, this cathoiicity of temper, this far-
reaching statesmanship, this magnanimous and
Christian spirit. He yearned for peace unceasing-
ly ; and theie can bo no doubt that a complete pac-
iiication and reconciliation on the basis of impar-
tial liberty was the last and fondest dream of his
great soul, rudely interrupted by the stroke of the
assassin. He lived not to realize his great designs,
yet he fullilled his historic mission, and what a
large arc In the completed circle of our country's
history will his administration embrace! What
harvests of martial and civic virtue were garnered
in! What a treasure-house of national memories
and heroic traditions was prepared! What a new
and glorious impulse was communicated to the na-
tional life !
What was achieved by his genius and character
by that peculiar conihination and summary of qual-
ities of heart and brain and environment which
make up what we call Abraham Lincoln, we, by
our finite standards and our piirtial view of the
scopes and orbits of human influence, can never
adequately measure. But some things we see in
their completeness before our eyes. SVe gaze with
admiration upon his pure and upright cliaracter,
his immovable firmness and determination in the
right, his inexhaustible patience and hopefulness
under reverses. We remember how steadily these
masterful qualities wrought upon the public mind,
till his quaint wisdom, his di^interestedness, his
identification with the princijiles that underlay
the issues of the Civil War, made his name repre-
sentative of all that was highest and holiest and
best in the North, and gave it a prestige which
38
Abraham Lincoln.
alone was sufficient to carry us triumphantly
through to the end. Before this prestige all resist-
ance was discomfited, and his was the hand to com-
plete and adorn the unfinished temple of our fa-
thers. Substituting the corner-stone of Freedom for
that of Slavery, he built anew the indestructible
edifice of our Liberty, giving it new proportions of
beauty, lifting up into the cleai- blue its towers and
pinnacles, white and pure, and crowning all with
the Emancipation rroclamatiou as its fitting caj)-
stone. He it was who presided over the strife
whicli restored the Union, and " out of the nettle
Danger plucked the flower Safety." But for that
great character, raising high above the tumult of
contending parties its voice of patriotism and
moderation — that moderation which a profound
writer calls " the great regulator of human inlelli-
gence" — who shall say that this government would
not liave been rent asunder, and the Ship of State
foundered with all on board? There is no difler-
ence of opinion now as to the grandeur and nobil-
ity of this service. It was the finishing toirch upon
ttie work of Washington. Before Lincoln, Wash-
ington stood alone as the one great typical Amer-
ican. But now a new planet has come into our
field of vision, and with him holds its place in our
clear upper sky. Indeed, it is a significant fact
that, as time goes on, our Southern i)eople, who so
sorely taxed and saddened that great spirit, are
gaining a love and reverence for him almost tran-
scending our own. J'hose whom he leduced to
obedience are foremost in appreciation of liim, so
that that eloquent son and orator of the New South
could rise at the banquet of the New England So-
ciety of New York on last Forefathers' Day, and
pay this lofty tribute to his genius and virtue.
Said he, 'From the union of these colonists,
from the straightening of their purposes and the
crossing of their blood, slow perfecting through a
century, came he who stands as the first typical
American, the first who comprehended within him-
self all the strength and gentleness, all the maj-
esty and grace, of this republic — Abraham Lincoln.
He was the sum of i'uritan and Cavalier, tor in his
arden* nature were fused the virtues of both, and
in the depths of his great soul the faults of both
were lost. He was greater than I'urilan, greater
than Cavalier, in that he was American, and that
in his homely form were first gathered the vast
and thrillingforcesofthis ideal government — charg-
ing it with such tremendous meaning, and so
elevating it above human suffiL'ring that mar-
tyrdom, thougli infamously aimed, came as a fit-
ting cro ' n to a lite const crated fieni the cradle to
human liberty."
This is equally beautiful and true; and it well
pays us lor waiting to hear it come at lasi from I he
lips of a lieorgian, representing a city so hammered
and trampled upon by our hosts that ,'^carcely one
stone of it was left upon another in the gigantic
struggle.
Not less striking, nor less surely the voice of the
civilized world, were those strains, which, a few
days alter his death, swelled from the liarj) of Eng-
land through the jiages of y'«/)c/(. which had rid-
iculed and insulted him through life:
You lay a wreath on murdered I-incoln's bier,
You, who with mocking pencil wont to trace.
Broad for the self-complacent British sneer,
His length of shambling limb, his furrowed face,
His gaunt, gnarled hands, his unkempt, bristling
hair.
His garb uncouth, his bearing ill at ease.
His lack ol all we prize as debonair,
Of power or will to shine, of art to please, —
You,, whose smart pen backed up the pencils laugh.
Judging each stop as tlnuigh the way were plain ;
Reckless, so it could point its jiaragraph.
Of chief's perplexity, or people's jiain!
Beside this corpse, that boars for winding sheet
The stars and stiipes he lived to rear anew,
Between the mourners at his head and feet.
Say, scurril jester, is tlieie room for you f
Yes, he had lived to shame me from my sneer;
To lame my pencil, and confute my pen; —
To make me own this hind of princes peer;
This rail-splitter a true born king of men.
My shallow judgment I had learnt to rue,
Noting how to occasion's height he rose;
How his quaint wit made home- truth seem more
true;
How iron-like his temper grew by blows;
How humble, yet how hopeful, he could be;
How, in good fortune and in ill, the same;
Nor bitter in success, nor boastful he,
Thirsty for gold, nor feverish for fame.
He went about his work — such work as few
E\ er had laid on head, and heart, and hand —
As one who knows, where there 's a task to do,
Man's honest will must heaven's good grace com-
mand.
Who trusts the strength will with the burden grow,
That God makes instruments to work his will,
If but that «ill we can arrive to know,
Nor tamper with the weights of good and ill.
So he went forth to battle, on the side
Tliat he felt clear was Liberty's and Right's,
As in his peasant boyhood he had plied
His warfare with rude Nature's thwarting mights.
So he grew up a destined work to do,
Anil lived to do it; four long suffering years'-
lU-fate, ill-feeling, ill-report, lived through.
And then he heard the hisses change to cheers,
The taunts to tribute, the abuse to praise.
And took both with the same unwavering mood:
Till, as he came on light, from darking days,
And seemed to touch the goal from where he
stood,
A felon had, between the goal and him.
Reached from behind his back, a trigger prest, —
And those perplexed and patient eyes were dim
Those gaunt, long-laboring limbs were laid to
rest :
The words of mercy were upon his lips,
Forgiveness in his heart and on his pen.
When this vile murderer brought switt eclipse
To thoughts of peace on earth, good-will to men.
The Oil! World and the New, from sea to sea,
Utter one voice of sympathy and shame !
Sore heart, so stopped when it at last beat high f
Sad life, cut short just as the triumph came!
A deed accurst ! Strokes have been struck before
By the assassin's hand, whereof men doubt
If moie of horror or disgrace they bore.
But thy foul crime, like Cain's, shines darkly out.
Vile hand, that brandest murder on a strife,
Whate'er its grounds, stoutly and nobly striven,
And with the martyr's crown crowiiest a life
With much to praise, little to be forgiven !
Therefore, it is clear that whatever differences we
are to have hereafter with our liiethren of the re-
cent strife, and with the laces of mankind, we are,
by common consent, to stand with equal reverence
before him; antl contemphifing tlie life onward
and upward of this peasant boy, from the log cabin
to the White House, and the moral dictatorship of
the world, I involuntarily bow before the inscrut-
able things of the universe, and e.xclaim, — "Sub-
lime destiny! to have climbed by his unaided ener-
gies not only to the summit of earthly power, but
to the reverence of history, and an undisputed do-
minion over the hearts and minds of posterity in
all coming ages."
I have spoken of Mr. Lincoln's plainness and
simplicity, his abilities and achievements, and his
relation to politics, i'hrough these he became a
Abraham Lincoln.
39
groat factor in tlip oveiits of his tiino. l$ut after
all I must tliiiik the true key to lii.s iuflucnce is to
be soujtiif and found elsewhere. \\\ his incorrup-
tible puritv, his di>interestedness, his inflexible
morality, his fidelity fo convictions, — in short, in
his moral earnestness, — here were the real hiding-
places of his power. The worhl is ever loyal to
this lofty type of cluiracter, and whenever it recog-
nizes a man who never does violence to his moral
sense, it brings him the crown of its allegiance and
homage. It was Mr. Lincoln's sturdy honesty that
gave him earlv tlie soiiliri(j>icl of " Honest Abe,"
which never left him; and this it was that winged
his speech with celestial lire, and nuule him victor
wherever he moved. 'I'he moral bearings of every
question presented to him were never out of his
mind. In this resi)pct, unlike most of the world's
freat, "his wagon" was always "hifchcd to a star."
n tine, the elements of intellect, and will, and
morality, were
"So mix'd in him. that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, This was a Man ! "
There is one scene in the life of Mr. Lincoln
which has impressed my imagination beyond any
other, and I have wondered why some masterly
artist has never yet seized and thrown it in glow-
ing colors and im'inortal beauty upon some great
historical canvas. It seems to me it must have
been the supreme happiness of that weary life, the
moment when he looked into the dusky faces of
his children by adoption in the streets of Rich-
mond, from whose limbs the fetters had dropped
at his touch, whom his word had lifted into the
gladsome light of liberty, — "sole passion of the
generous heart, sole treasure worthy of being cov-
eted."
O my friends, the people did not simply admire
Abraham Lincoln for his intellectual power, his
force of will, the purity of his conscience, the rec-
titude of his private and public life ; but they loved
him as little children love their father, because
they knew that he "loved the people in his heart
as a father loves his children, ready at all hours of
the day or the night to rise, to march, to tight, to
suffer, to conquer or to be conquered, to sacrifice
liimself for them without reserve, with his fame,
his fortune, his liberty, his blood, and his life."
Great men are like mountains, which grow as
they recede from view. We are even now, perhaps,
too near this extraordinary man, as indeed we are
too near the remarkable events in which he lived
and fought and won his battle of life, to appreciate
them in their full significance. His fame in the
centuries to come will rest, as that of all great men
must and does, upon certain acts that stand out as
landmarks in history. Few men have been so for-
tunate as he. So canonized is he in the heart of
mankind, that envy and detraction fall harmless at
his (eet, and stain not the whiteness of his fame.
There have been many men of daily beauty in life,
but few such fortunate enough to associate their
names with great steps in the progress of man —
fewer still to blend the double glory of the grand-
est public achievement with the teuderest, sweet-
est, gentlest, and simplest private life and thought.
>fot too soon for an abundant glory, but too soon
for a loving and grateful country, his spirit was
"touched by the finger of God, and he was not,"
and
"The great intelligences fair
That range above this mortal state.
In circle round the blessed gate.
Received and gave him welcome there."
As we gather in spirit about his tomb to-day, and
decorate with unfading amaranth and laurel the
memory of our great chief, how fitly may we say
of him what Dixon said of Douglas Jerrold, — "If
every one who has received a favor at his hands
should cast a flower upon his grave, a mountain of
roses would lie on the great man's breast."
I know, friends, how little words can do to por-
tray this august personage, and, toiling in vain to
express the thoughts of him which you and I feel,
1 doubt if it were not better after all, as Mr. Lin-
coln himself said of Washington, to "pronounce
his name in solemn awe, and in its n^ed and death-
less splendor leave it shining on."
If, now, such a character is a priceless possession
to this peojjle, how doubly fortunate arc they, are
we, who stood by him through life, and are the in-
heritors of his principles to-day. Therefore, Mr.
I'resident, is there a high |)roi)riety in this club
of Republicans associating themselves together
about the great name of Abraham Lincoln, in-
spired as they must be by the hope and the ambi-
tion to emulate those manly traits and those per-
sonal virtues which so pervaded his nature as to
permeate his politics and govern his life. He was
ours wholly, and this Club, by adopting his name,
in eflect declares him its ideal Republican and po-
litical exemjjlar. In the very name there is fitting
inspiration to high and noble endeavor, and we
should be recreant to our opportunities and to our
best selves —
"We that have loved him so, followed him, hon-
ored him.
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye.
Learned his great language, caught his clear ac-
cents.
Made him our pattern, to live and to die" —
I say, we should be recreant Republicans, if, under
the influence of that transcendent name and char-
acter, the very crown and summit of American
manliood, we should not rise to a lofty patriotism,
a high conception of, and a new consecration to,
political duty, and do our utmost to secure the tri-
umph of his principles, and to lift our politics up
to that high standard of honor and dignity which
guided the steps of the great man whose birthday
we now celebrate, and which is commemorated
throughout the civilized world as that of a Patriot,
Statesman, Hero, and supreme Martyr to Liberty.
SPEECH OF CHARLES R. CORNING.
Lincoln as a huruorist was the theme assigned
to Mr. Corning, and he treated it in his hap-
piest vein, evoking laughter and applause
many times. He said :
During the darkest days of the Civil War when
disaster followed disaster in fearful succession,
two Quakers chanced to meet. These honest hat-
ers of war could not keep their minds from the
dreadful conflict. Said one,
■'I think Jetferscn will win." /
"Wliy so?" asked tlie other.
"Becausf , Jefferson is a praying man."
"Ves, but so is Abraham "
"Verily so." the other replied, '-but the Lord
will think Abraham is .joking. "
StrangH goddesses stood at his cradle. In the
humble cabin were gathered the crowned heads of
the world's court; the wise, the happy, the ti-nder,
the brave, all were there. One only was rais-'ing.
Danaj, whose h-nd flings golden shi wers into the
lap of the living, came not. Into the poor pi' ueer's
hut the taint flicker of the tallow dip could not
allure tlie f nbled godilees. Her mission whs nearer
the stars, and s'e never knew the lowly lad whom
her sisters were glad to honor. They endowed
I im with all ihat was good and true and honorable.
To me Abraham L nco'n is one of the most re-
markable stu'iies that human nature ever present-
ed. His mind was warped by no jjrejiidices, and
in a trulv original maimer he reacli* d his own con-
clusions in Ihw, in politics, and in private life.
Herein he differed from all •>ur public men. Wash-
ington, save his occasional pri fanity, was like his
contemporaries. Jefferson, Jackson, Olay, Cal-
houn, Webi'ter, and tlieir successors differed only
in mental quilities, but her«- in Lincoln we have a
man who in mind and body was as solitary and
alone as the north star. There was never one like
him. I am asked to .-peak of President Lincoln as
a humorist. That he was one there can be no
question. But he was no wit. Humor and wit do
40
Abraham Lincoln.
not always go^gether. One r quires a deep, re-
flective vein; the other a reflection like a mirror.
Lincoln Uiil not have that quickness which is indis-
pensable to true wit, and yet no man was ever pos-
sesst^d of a deeper sense of humor.
£[-en as a young man he was known as a s'ory
teller, and this reputation grew as he grew u?itil
his hearers were not couflned to an II inois circuit,
but embraced the gr«'at republic He was the life
of the old time law courts and his quaint ftories
attr cted more attention than his briefs or argu-
ments. A good story teller, or a man who s es
something Uiimorous in the phases ot life, is likely
to be underestimate I by the people at large. They
look upon him as a man of trivial mind, as one
who weighs li:ihtly the great problems of human
afE.iirs, and withhold from hi o that measure of
confidence which an innocent spirit of humor oufjht
to invite rather than repel. Had the wise men of
the East been fully aware of Lincdn's exceeding
love of story telling, he might never have been
president. The Western people are nearer nature
than we are, and Lincoln was their idol.
Charles Sumner was cO'upletely disgusted when
Lincoln, after lirteiiing to a long talk from the
distinguished senator, made ho leply, but slowiy
nnfulding liirasel I, proposed to measure heights.
Sumner had neither wit, humor, nor imagination,
and Lincoln was an enigma to him. So with Stan-
ton. On the evening oi that eventful election day
in Xoveraher, 1864, wren all the power of the War
and the other departments had been employed to
secure his reelection, Lincoln and Stanton wei-e
eagerly reading the returns as sent to them by pri-
vate wire. 'Ihe cuspense was territile, for the fate
of the country seemed to be wavering in the \y.\\-
ance. Durin : a lu'.l in the Ciicuing, Lincoln pulled
out •> yellow pamphlet from his pocket : nd b'.gan
reading exti acts from Petroleum V. Nasby. He
read and chuckled, only pausiOi; now and then to
con a return. Th s euraiied Btantou beyond
measure, and calling one of his assistants a>ide the
secretary gave expression to his wrath. The idea
that a man whose country's safety was at issue
coulil s t calmly by an i read such balderdash was
to him [-imply damnable.
W hen Lord Lyons, the British minster, called
on Lincoln, and pie.-ente i him with an iiutogriph
letter from the Queen, announcing the marriage
of the Prince of Wales, and added that whatever
response the presidi nt mitht make would be im-
mediately sent to her majesty, Mr. Lincoln in-
stan ly replied to the old bachelor minister,
"Lyons»go thou and do likewise."
DigtdiV Lincoln had none, and he never pretend-
ed that he had. He was tall, auirular, and awk-
ward, his hands and feet were large, his f ce w as
bony and inr e had inide furroWs all over it. Na-
ture made him like a scare''row and endowed him
like a god At timea Lincoln told stories just as
men indulge in any pustime. He was a temperate
man, aii'l the cup had no attractions for him. He
was not a r adiiig man, and higher literature af -
foi ded hi M no solace. His recreation was in hu-
mor. Even in the dark days ot the war he fou'd
time to indu'ge i st iry telling, an<l no one was
mere welcome to his eveidngs than the man of racy
tongue. I reio lect iha tl'el te ."Senator Nesmith of
Oregon, him-elf a wit and humorist of the first or-
der, si owed me a slip of paper on whieh was writ-
ten: "Dear Nesmitli, come abound to-night with
your la'est. A. Lincoln."
Thepe men spent hours together, not in discuss-
inir state crait or i)liiining p'licies, but in unre-
strained good fel owship, for these stories were
Lincoln's grea' safeguards in moments of mental
depression. These stories served him many a gO' d
turn in his presidetitial ottii e, and by tittinvr some
ludi' rous story to the occasion he saved himself
and his ailministration from (!• wnritdit enibarras-
ment. As a so't answer turneth away wrath, so
would one or his funny stories. He had a great
forte ill makin analogies. When Grant showed
hin» the Dutch Gap cana', and explained how an
explosion had thrown the earth back and filled up
a part already completed, he turned to Grant and
said : " I'his reminds me of a blacksmith out in
Illinois. One ''ay he took a piece of soft iron, and
starting up a fire b^gan to heat it. When he got it
hot he be :an to hammer it, thinking he would
make it into an agricultural implement. But after
pounding away he found that the iron would
not hold out. Then he put it back in the fortce,
heated it, and began hammering it with the inten-
tion of making a cUw hammer. But he came to
the conclusion that there was more iron than he
ni eded. Again he heated it and thought he would
make an axe. After hammering and welding it
into shape he concluded there was not enough of
the iron left to make an axe that would be of any
use. He wa-i disgusted at his repeated attempts,
besides being weary. So he filled up his lorge full
of coal and worked up a tremeodoirs blast, bring-
ing the iron to a white heat. Then with his tongs
he lifted it from the bed of coals and plunging it
into a tub of water, exclaimed, 'There, by gosh ; if
I can't make anything else of you I can make a
fizzle anyhow.' "
Just after he was nominated in 1860, a prominent
Mason called on him at .Springdeldand said : "Of
course y u expect all the Masons to vote against
you, Mr. Lincoln !"
'•No, why?"
"Because all the other presidential candidates are
Masons."
"Hless me !" exclaimed old Abe, "is that so?"
"Certiinly," said the visitor. "Bell has taken
all the degrees, and is a member of the Grand
Lodge of I'ennessee ; Breckenridge is an officer of
tlie Grand Lodge of Kentucky, and Douglas —
why he is gran I orator of the Grand i odge ot lUi-
noi — ri ht h re under your nose. "
iVIr. Lincoln turned round in his chair, laid his
legs across the to 1 of the table, luighed, rubbed
his face, stuck his finge-s through iiis hair, and
said : 'Joho, you have been down in Sangamon
county a good deal yourself."
"Well, yes," a im.tted the visitor, "sorry to say I
have frequented t lat locality "
"I am reminded," s dd Mr. Lincoln, "of an inci-
dent that occurred there. X woman who was a
real hard case was a witness, and the lawyer,
bound to get even, asked her. 'Are you a virtuous
woman, nudaiu ?' She was slightly surprised and
Slid, 'That, sir, is a very hard question to ask a
lady who is a witriess before a public court.' He
rose and repe ited the question sternly She still
evaded it. but when he persisted, she fin illy an-
swered : This much I will sny— that I have a great
respect for the insti uti"n.' "
Once a war governor went to him in a towering
Dassion; he li'erally had bl )od in his eye. His in-
terview wi h Stanton had b en stormy, and he be-
took himself to the president. A few days after
one of the officials who had witnessed the scene
asked Mr. Lincoln how he had managed the irate
governor. '•\Vell,"siid the presi<leot, laughing,
"do you know how the Illinois farmer managed
the log that lay in the middle of his field? It was
too big to h;iul out, too knotty to split, and too wet
a'd Soggy to burn. Well I will tell you how he
got rid of it. He ploughed round it. I ploughed
round the governor, but it took three mortal hours
to do it nnd I was afraid every minute he would
see what I was at."
At the time of Gen. Cameron's retirement from
the cabinet the Republican senators thought a re-
construction of the entire cabinet w s advisable,
therefcu'e, a committee waited on the president and
requ sted him to make the chinge. LinC'iln lis-
tened patiently and then said the request rendnd-
ed him of a story. A farmer was mhcli troabled
by skunks They annoyed him exceedingly. Fi-
nally he got out his old shot-gun and lai<l in wait
for the midnight assas-ins. His wife dstened in-
tently for the report of the gun. At la«t it cracked
on the still nitiht. The man came in, and his wife
asked him what luck he had. "Well," said the old
loan, "I hid behind a woodpile, and soon seven
skunk- came along. I blazed away and killed one,
but he ra sed sin-h a fearful smell that I concluded
it was best to let the other six go!" The digi.ified
senators saw the point and took their departure.
Lincoln could not bear to put his signature to
Abraham Lincoln.
41
death warrants, and his reprieves and pardons fur-
nish a sMhlinio example i-uch as the world had
never known. Oiioe Judge Holt, the advocate
general, presented a most flagrant case of deser-
tiO'i and i'sisted that the culprit be shot. The
man had thrown down his gun and run away dur-
ing battle. Extenuating circunistanc-'S there were
none. The sentence of the court was death. Lin-
coln ran his tiusrers througli his hair and said,
"Well, Judge, I guess I must put this with my le.i
cases." "Leg cases!" replied judge Hnlt. "What
do you mean by leg cas^s?" "Why, do you se«
those papers crowded into those pigeon-holes?
'They are the cases you call by that long title
'Cowardice in the face of the enemy,' bat I call
them leg chscs. N'ow I'll put it to you and let vou
decide for yourself. If God Almit;hty givts a man
a cowardly pair of legs how cau he help running
away with them."
Lincoln was always quaint in whatever he did.
He could n®t help it. Nothing was ever done for
etfect. His peculiarities were not studied, they
were inlorn and irrepre-^sible.
In September, 1862, a delegation of Chicago
clerirynien called on him to urge the emancipation
proclamation. He heard them patiently, an 1 as
tht'y were leaving the White House oue of them
felt it to be his nuty to make an appeal to the pres-
ident's conscience. "I am compelled to say, Mr.
Lincoln, that the Divine Master has instructed me
to command you, sir, to open the doors of bondage
that the slaves may go free." The president at
once replied; "It may be as you say, sir, but is it
not strange that the only ch^innel though which
the D vine Master could send this message was by
that roundabout route by that awfully wicked city
of ( hicaL'o?"
When the Rebels raided a small detachment of
our army, they capture;] a general and twelve
army mules On hearing of it, Lincoln instantly
replied: "How unfortunate ! I c m till his place in
five minutes, but those mules cost us two hundred
dollars apiece."
Gen. Frye once found on looking over applica-
tions for offices in the army papers dotted with
notes and commen's in the president's handwrit-
ing, and amongothers, this characteristic one: "On
this day .Mrs. called upon me. She is the
wife of Major , of the reeular army. She
wants her husband made brigadier general She
is a saui-y little woman, and I think she will tor-
ment me until I do it. A. L."
Now could there be anything more delicious than
this?
Once when told that a Union man had been con
demned to die, the ch( ice being left to him to be
huna or shot, a smile lighted up his sad features,
and he said the situation reminded him of a colored
Methodist camp-meeting. There was a lirother
who responded, "Amen! Bless the Lord!" in a
loud voice. The preacher was sweeping the sin
ners on both sides into the devil's net. He had
drawn a picture of eternal damnation, without a
Sivingcliuse, when the unctuous brother leaped
up and yelled out, "Bless the Lord! dis nigger
takes to the woods !"
As in the present era of reform and honesty, Mr.
Lincoln, like Mr Cleveland, was beset with office-
seekers. They fairly made him sick. As he lay
in the White House prostrated by an attack of
small pox, he said to his attend mts, "Tell all the
office-seekers to come at once, for now I have
Something I can give to all of them."
Tlie re'ations between Lincoln ani Stanton were
very c ose, and sometimes exceedingly comical.
Once a committee, having for its object the ex-
change of Eastern and W^estern men, repaired t3
the war secretary with the president's order for
such a change.
Stanton stamped and emphatically said, "No."
"But we have the president's order," said the
chairman.
"Dill Lincoln give you an order of that kind ?"
"He did, sir."
"Then he is a damned fool," said the war secre-
tary.
"Do you mean to say that the president is a
damned fool." asked the bewildered spokesman.
"Yes, sir, if he gave you such an crder as that."
Th*" committee returned to the president and re-
lated the scene.
"Did Stanton say I was a damned fool," asked
Lincoln.
"He did sir," and he repeated it.
After a moment's pause, the president said : "If
Staitton said I was a damned fool, then I must he
one, tor he is nearly always right and generally
says what he means. I will step over and see
him."
Lincoln took a memorandum of new stories, and
once he stopped the long line at a White House re-
ception in order that he udght get the point of a
story whi^h he had forgotten. He was not frivo-
lous, he was divinely thoughtful, but he had an
unconscious humor which gusheil forth at all times
and under all circumstances. Nero fi Idled while
Rome was burning. Lincoln told fuuny st ries
when black clouds of disaster hung over the nation.
The Roman was drunk with wine and wi d with
passion ; the American was hopeful, calm. The
emperor was cruel, vindictive, and debauched ; the
prtsi lent was merciful, wise, and pure. Nero was
the incarnation of splendid iniquity ; Lincoln was
the living interpretation of the sermon on the
mount.
SPEECH OF HON. CHARLES H. BURNS.
Mr. Burns's eloquent oration was a superb
efFort, for which he was afterward warmly
congratulated. He spoke as follows :
Mr. PBESIDEJfT AND GENTLEMEN OPTHE LIN-
COLN Club : The people of the United States are
approafhing an era in the history of th«ir govern-
ment, when every man, and possibly every woman,
must become an active working member in some
political organizition. The questions to be settled
are of such gravity, and so vital to the business, so-
cial cmdition, and safety of the repub ic, that all
cit zens will be compelled to take a pare in their
solution. It may be distasteful : it will neverthe-
less be a necessity.
It is impossible to forecast with precision the
consequences of the 1 bor agitation and troubles
which now beset the land ; but it requires no great
discernment to see that a draft is to be made upon
the wisdon, intelligence, and vir'ue of all the peo-
ple in order to meet and settle these difficulties in
a way that shall be just and honorable to all par-
ties. They may not become political questions, but
they are matters of the highest importance to the
people, and require at their hands the most solemn
consideration.
We h ive the question of high and low tariff, or
no tariff at all, of protection to American in.ius-
try, of fiMauce, of taxation, of pensions, and many
ether issues which constantly confront the people,
and they must be met and controlled by the intelli-
gence of the whole country.
Political p irties must meet the saloon question
in this country. It cannot be avoided. ;
If any party chooses to ally itself with the liquor
saloon power, it must take tlie consequences, fhe
inducements to court its assistan e at the present
time, it must he admitced, are great, if principle,
and honor, and love of home and country, are left
out of consideration ; but sooner or later the hand
that seeks a marriage with the mistress who em-
braces almost every wretch on earth of both high
and low degree, will wither as it deserves. The
time is coming when the people of this nation will
no longer baar with the insolence and havoc of the
grog shop.
Three lecades ago the slave power in this land
became insolent in its demands, and it wielded an
influence that was courtt^d by tije Democratic par-
ty. It threatened to call the roll of its sla es be-
neath the shadow of Bunker Hill monument. It
enacted a law which turned every foot of the
soil of the North into a hiintintj-ground tor fleeing
humanity. It sought to establish itself in neigh-
42
Abraham Lincoln.
borhoods which bad been solemnly dedicated to
freedom. It elected presidents, made and unmade
courts, controlled Congresses, stifled the con-
sciences of statesmen, gagg;ed the freedom of press
and speech, dictated the policy and shaped the act?
of thegoverj!mrnt,aiid domineered with impui'ent
swagger, like a bloated monarch, over this land
which it claimed ; s it« kingdom.
When it «as finally met and beaten at the polls
by the I'epublican party, it clutched, in its desper-
ation, at the throat of the nation, and undertook to
destroy it, but the assassin who would slay, him-
self w»s slain; and the Democratic party, which
nursed and encouraged the barbarous system, was
relegated to a retirement which lasted for a quarter
of a century, and from which it has but recently
been aci identally and temporarily called.
The power of the liquor sa'oon is such that it
dictates boards of selectmen; it elects aldernjen
and councilmen and mayors; it organizes societies
whose openly avowed purpose is to defeat the law;
it disreuards the authority of men and the suppli-
cations of women; and its influence and sway are
getting to be such that the conscience and sense of
honor of the nation, which is now aslei'p, will soon
awake and arise, and smite this monster and send it
to everlasting perdition, and the party that sus-
tains it will go with it.
These are a few of the issues which await the so-
lution of the American people; and that party
which possesses the wisdom and courage to grapple
with these great problems, and demand that they
shall be settled in a w«y that shall be u.-eful to the
progress of humanity, is the party which in the
end will con'rul and direct this governsi ent.
The Kei>ublican i arty during tLie last twenty-five
years has been compelled to act upon some of the
most critical questions ever presented to the peo-
ple of any age or country ; questions involving na-
tional interests of the highest importance, even to
the preservation of the Union and the maintenance,
credit, and honor of the nation, as well as the
enfranchisement of one tenth of all the people of
the United States ; and upon all these great ;ind
unpreceiieiited questions it has always espoused
the side of freedom and justice. It has carried the
nation safely through each and every crisis.
It couli' not h;.ve weathered so many dangerous
capf s or bre:isted so many terrific storms bad it not
had for pilots .'■one of the noblest and ablest men
that our country has produced. In the war, our
helm was guided by Andrew, IVIorton, Seward,
Chase, Stanton, Sumner, Garfield, and Lincoln.
God bless his memory, at the touch of whose pen
the chains ot four millions of slaves were broken,
never to be reforged ; and Sherman, who, thank
God, still lives ; and Grant, whose fame is as im-
perishable as the light of the stars ; and honest
John l^ogan, fn m whose bier the mourners have
bui just gone. This is a list of contemporaneous
civil and military leaders, which the luition, in all
its history, cannot surpass or match. Their charac-
ters and deeds challenge the admiration of n>an-
Uind, and their memories are embilmed in endur-
ing fame. It has been truly said that ''the heroic
example of other days is in gieac part the source
ot the coura'/e of each generation." In the lives of
these splendid leaders (jur country finds an inspira-
tion which, if heeded, will lead to the highest and
grandest nati< nal achie-^ements.
From this galaxy of distinguished Americans we
select on this anniversary of his lowly birth that
noble and God-crowned man, Abraham Lincoln.
To-night and here we hund)ly assst in gHthering
up "ihe scattered f shes into history's golden urn.'
We pay an earnest tribute to the good citizen, the
painstiiking and conscientious lawyer, the wise,
patriotic, and far-seeing statesman, the matchless
political leader, the martyred president, and the
uncompromising friend of humanity. A man
who, in intellectual power and strength, was the
peer of the ablest of his countrymen, and wh< se
heart was larger than his brain. His was one of
the few great lives which had an humble legin"
ning, a slow development, a tremendous influence
and import, and a tragic ending before it was fully
appreciated by his countrymen. From the moment
the good man was stricken down, his fame bej^an to
live and grow. The greatness of his mind, the
goodness of his heart, the far-reachiu" significince
and sublimity of his work, are now recognized the
world over. All alike concede the sincerity, pu-
rity, g. odne«s, and beauty of his character; and
over his whole life there ''arches a bow of urques-
tioned integrity."
It cannot be said of Mr. Lincoln, ae Victor Hugo
extravagantly wrote of Napoleon, 'He was every-
thing. He was complete: he made history, and he
wrote it." But it can be said that he is a>' com-
plete a figure as the present century has produced,
and that he was the conspicuous and successful
leader in a series of civil, political, and military
events which constitute the most remark:>ble crisis
and the most important epoch in the history of
modern times. He presided over the nation at a
time when treason wms doing its deadliest work;
when the Union was in the deepest peril; when the
destinies of forty millions of living souls, as well
as countless g nerations then unborn, stood trem-
bling in the balance; and it is the lliuhe^t encomi-
um to pronounce on this consecrated man that the
nation, under his loving and patriotic guidance,
was triumphant i^ver every foe, and came ou from
its ordeal ot treason and civil war with the \inion
of thesp states reaffirmed upon a basis as solid as
the eternal hills.
M hen Wendell Phillips died, Joseph Cook elo-
quently said of him, "There lies Head on his shield
in yonder street an unsullie-i soldier of unpopular
reform, a spi tlessly disinte'ested champion of the
oppressed, the foremost orator of the English-
speaking world in recent years, the largest and
latest, let us hoi e not the last, of the Puritans. A
servant of the Most High God, a man on the altar
of whose heart the coals of lire were kindled by a
breath from the Divine justice and tenderness,
Wendell Phillips has gone doubtless to an incalcu-
lably great reward. He is witli Garrison and Sum-
ner and Lincoln now; he has met Wilberfi rce and
Clarkson; he is in the company of v\ristides and
Scipio and the Koman Gracchi, and of all the past
martyrs who in every age have laid down their
lives that the darkness of the ages might be a li tie
lighte' ed." And so it can be said of Al)raham 1-in-
coln:hei'< among the martyrs -'who have laid
drtwn I heir lives that the darkness of the ages
miaht be a little lightened.'' Wh>therhe is view-
ed as the head of tlie greatest politii-al party known
to history, or as commander-in-chief of the brav- st
and most intelligent army of soldiers that Wi:s ever
niarsi'alled on tiie fHce of the earth; or as presi-
dent o' the most successful Kepublic th it has ever
adorned the fnuiily of nations, — he «n-wers all the
tests of patriotism, wise statesmanship, high citi-
zenship, and noble manhood.
All honor, then, to thf! imperishable name of
Abraham Lincoln. In life a patriot, in death a
martyr, in eternity the companion of the good of
all ages, — his example is the heritage of his country.
He lives; the patriot lives no more to die;
And wliile dim rolling centuries hasten by,
He still ahali live, the mjin of thought sublime,
Down to the latest hour ot coming time.
In the absence of Hon. Henry Robinson,
John J. Bell of Exeter was called upon as the
closing speaker, and responded Avitli a brief
but eloquent tribute to the achievements of
the Republican party, and a statement of the
duties before it. It was 1:15 a. m. when the
company left the tables.
The
RANITE neWTHLY.
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
'Devoted to Literature, biography, History, and State Progress.
Vol. X.
FEBRUARY, 1887.
No.
NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE SENATE.
Tbe last election resulted in the
choice of thirteen Republicans and
nine Democrats. There was no choice
in the Somersworth and Nashua dis-
tricts.
The senate, as the word indicates,
is supposed to consist of old men, —
the elders of the community. The
incoming senate, however, includes
several ; young men. It is probable
that the average age of the senators
will be less than that of the members
of the house. In ability, the next
senate bids fair to rank as high as
any of its predecessors.
Hon. Edmund Erskine Truesdell,
senator-elect from the Merrimack dis-
trict, son of Thomas and Mary (Boy-
don) Truesdell, was born in Jewett
City, Conn., March 3, 1845. He is
a descendant of Ichabod Truesdell,
who came from Scotland about 1700,
and settled in South Woodstock, Conn.
Darius, his second son, and great-
grandfather of Senator Truesdell, was
a veteran of the Revolution, and suf-
fered with the army at Valley Forge,
and died from effects of wounds
received in the service. Mr. Trues-
dell received his education in the com-
mon schools of Newton Upper Falls,
Mass., and graduated at Comer's
Commercial College in Boston. From
boyhood he has been initiated in the
mysteries of cotton manufacturing,
and at the age of twenty-one years he
was induced to accept a position in the
Webster and Pembroke mills of Sun-
cook. In 1870 he was promoted to
superintendent and paymaster of the
China, Webster, and Pembroke mills.
He was town trea^rer from 1878 to
1881, and represented Pembroke in
the legislature in 1879 and 1880. Mr.
Truesdell is prominent in Masonic
circles, a very active Republican, and
attends the Baptist church. He mar-
ried, June 11, 1872, Mary Wilkins
Austin, daughter of David Austin, of
Suncook, and has one son. Mr. Trues-
dell would make a very good governor
one of these days.
Hon. Enoch Gerrish, senator-elect
from the Concord district, only sou
of Isaac and Caroline (Lawrence)
Gerrish, was born July 28, 1822, in
Boscawen, of which town his ances-
tors were original proprietors. Cap-
50
New Hampshire State Senate.
tain Stephen Gerrish was a pioneer in
Boscawen. His oldest son, Colonel
Henry Gerrish, was a veteran of the
Revokition. His third son, Major
Enoch Gerrish, born June 23, 1750,
was the grandfather of our senator-
elect, and died May 1, 1821. Isaac
Gerrish was born Nov. 27, 1782, and
was an honored citizen of Boscawen.
Senator Gerrish obtained his educa-
tion at the academies in Boscawen,
Franklin, and Meriden. At the age
of twenty years he inlierited his
father's estate, and for twenty years
he cultivated one of the largest farms
in Merrimack county. He was colo-
nel of the Twenty-First Regiment
New Hampshire militia. After the
sale of his farm in 1865, he settled in
Concord, where he has been called to
represent his ward in the legislature
(1881-82). He married, May 23,
1854, Miranda O., daughter of Joseph
S. and Harriet N. Lawrence. Their
children are Frank L. Gerrish, a
farmer of Boscawen, and Miss Lizzie
M. Gerrish, who resides with her
parents.
Oliver Dennett Savs^yer, Republi-
can senator from the Amherst district,
is a resident of Weare, where he has
lived since he was four years of age.
He is the son of Daniel and Dorcas
Hodgdon Sawyer, — the former a na-
tive of Henniker, and the latter of
Weare, — and was born in Portland,
Maine, Nov. 19, 1839, during the
temporary residence of his parents in
that city. His parents belonged to
the Society of Friends, and young
Sawyer was brought up in the faith.
He is proud of his descent, in the
eighth generation, from William Saw-
yer, who emigrated from England to
America in 1632, and commenced pio-
neer life in Newbury, now Newbury-
port, Massachusetts. Oliver received
his education in New London, and
later at the Friends' school at Provi-
dence, Rhode Island. His family,
on both sides, were old-fashioned,
anti-slavery Quakers, and in early
life he was imbued with abolition
principles. He was educated to feel
keenly the inhumanity and cruelty of
human slavery, and long before his
majority was working for the success
of the anti-slavery cause. He has
ever been a total abstainer from all
alcoholic drinks, and a firm friend to
all measures intended to suppress
this evil in our land. A working man
all his life, in full sympathy with the
working men and women of our coun-
try, the cry of distress has never found
a deaf ear, but has reached a sympa-
thetic listener in him, as a large num-
ber of poor people in his vicinity can
testify. Alwa^'s working and giving
freely to every project for the im-
provement of the people, he is fore-
most in all good works. He was ap-
pointed post-master in 1869, and held
that office until removed as an offen-
sive partisan in 1885. He was a
delegate from Weare to the last Con-
stitutional Convention. His father
started the first store in North Weare,
and after he left school Mr. Sawyer
was associated with him in business,
until the foimer's death in 1885.
Since then he has carried on the busi-
ness, now established for nearly half
a century, and is known as a substan-
tial business man, who received his
full party vote in the last election.
Hon. Franklin Worcester, sena-
tor-elect from the Peterborough dis-
trict, is the sou of John Newton and
Sarah (Holden) Worcester, of HoUis,
New Hamfs/rirc State Senate.
51
where he was born October 27, 1845.
His ancestor, Rev. Francis Worces-
ter, born in Bradford, Mass, June 7,
KIDS, married Abigail Carleton, of
Rowley, in 1720; settled in vSand-
wich, Mass., in 1740, as a Congrega-
tional minister ; moved to Hollis in
1750, where he died October 14, 1783.
He was an evangelist, author, and
poet. Captain Noah Worcester, the
youngest son of the Rev. Francis
Worcester, was born at Sandwich,
Mass., Oct. 4, 1735 ; married Lydia
Taylor, daughter of Abraham Taylor,
Feb. 22, 1757. He was captain of
the Hollis militia company in 1775,
and of the Hollis company at Cam-
bridge in December of that year. He
enlisted in the Hollis company in the
Rhode Island Expedition in 1778.
He was town-clerk and first selectman
in 1775, 1776, 1777, 1778, and 1779 ;
chairman of the Hollis Committee of
Safety in 1777, 1778, and 1779 ; jus-
tice of the peace for forty years from
1777; member of the Constitutional
Convention of 1778 ; moderator of the
Hollis . annual town-meeting fifteen
different years ; and was an active
member of the Hollis church for sixt}'
years. Four of his sons became
clergymen. He died at. Hollis, Aug.
13, 1817.
Jesse Worcester, second son of
Capt. Noah Worcester, was born in
Hollis, April 30, 1761. He enlisted
in July, 1776, for the Ticonderoga
expedition. In 1777 he was in gar-
rison at Portsmouth. In 1778 he
joined the expedition to Rhode Island,
and two years later he enlisted in the
Continental army. In June, 1782, he
married Sarah Parker, of Hollis.
They were the parents of nine sons
and six daughters, who all lived to
adult age, — fourteen of them becom-
ing teachers. Seven of the nine sons
aspired to a college education : two
graduated at Yale, three at Harvard.
One son was the lexicographer, Joseph
E. Worcester, ll. d. Another son
was Hon. Samuel T.Worcester. Mr.
Worcester was for many years a
teacher in Bedford and Hollis, and an
occasional contributor to the public
journals of the day. He died Jan.
20, 1834. Hon. John N. Worcester,
fifth son 'of Jesse Worcester, settled
in Hollis as a farmer. He was state
councillor in 1858 and 1859,
Hon. Franklin Worcester fitted for
college at the New Ipswich Appleton
academy, and graduated at Dartmouth
college in the class of 1870. He
studied law at the Harvard law
school, and was admitted to the Mid-
dlesex bar upon examination. He
then entered into business with his
brothers at Hollis, and at Cambridge,
Mass. They have a mill and cooper-
age at Hollis, and about two hundred
acres of land under cultivation, giv-
ing employment to about forty per-
sons. At Cambridge they have a
furniture and carpet business, employ-
ing seventeen hands. Their business
has been largely developed by them-
selves. He was a member of the
New Hampshire house of representa-
tives in 1877 and 1878, and chairman
of the Committee on Agricultural
College, 1878. He has held various
town offices, and at present is chair-
man of the Hollis school board.
Hon. Frank D. Currier, senator-
elect from the Lebanon district, is a
resident of Canaan, his native town,
and is an influential lawyer and politi-
cian. He is the oldest son of Hon.
Horace S. and Emma (Plaistridge)
52
The Christie Family.
Curried, and was born Oct. 30, 1853.
His earl}' education was received at
Canaan Union Academy and at the
Concord higli scliool. He studied law
with Hon. Austin F. Pike, of Frank-
lin, and, upon being admitted to the
bar, settled in East Canaan in the
practice of his profession. For a
time he was in the same office with
George W. Murray, Esq., after which
he opened an office for himself, and
very quickly obtained a fair practice.
The Canaan Reporter said of him, —
"In 1879 he represented this town in
the legislature, and for the past two
sessions has been clerk of the senate,
a position which he has filled with
much ability. He was this fall elect-
ed for the third time secretary of the
Republican State Committee, and has
performed his duties with skill, and
to the acceptance of his party in the
highest degree ; and the Republican
success in the last two campaigns
has been due in no small degree to
his keen foresight, and intimate and
extensive acquaintance with every
section of the state. Mr. Currier lias
always been an ardent Republican,
earnest in his convictions, outspoken
in opinion, and a zealous and inde-
fatigable worker, always sanguine
and ready to improve any advantage.
As a citizen he is upright, generous,
and public-spirited ; and his popular-
ity is best shown by the fact that in
a district in which a nomination is
equivalent to an election he was
nominated by acclamation, without
opposition or a single dissenting
vote." Mr. Currier is unmarried.
THE CHRISTIE FAMILY.
By Edwin Salter.
Editor Granite Monthly : The
descendants of the first Christies, who
orioinally settled in old Londonderry,
New Hampshire, are now very nu-
merous and widely scattered in the
United States and in Canada. The
following account of the early mem-
bers of the family is tlie substance of
a statement made by Thomas Christie,
who was born at St. John, N. B.,
March 11, 1773, and preserved by his
son, James A. Christie, now living at
Detroit, Mich.
Respectfully,
Edwin Salter,
Washington, D. C.
James Canada, of the town of
Armagh, and county of Armagh (Ire-
land), farmer and miller, property
held by lease. He married Agnes
Scot, by whom he had three sons and
one daughter. His sons were Thom-
as, Archibald, and James. Thomas
married Annie Wright, daughter of
Matthew Wright, a farmer of large
propert}', in the town of Billymaca-
glian, county of Tyrone, by whom he
had two daughters, Agnes and Sarah,
the former of whom married James
Christie, and the latter married Hugh
Wilson, of Chester, state of New
Hampshire.
George Christie, of Scotland, a
wealtliy farmer, was father of Jesse
Christie. Jesse Christie married a
daughter of Mr. Aiken, a clothier,
The Christie Family
53
wlio lived uear Coleraine, by whom
be had two sons and two daughters,
viz., Annie, Peter, Peggy, and James.
His wife died, leaving James an in-
fant ; and he afterwards married
Mary Gilmore, who was about seven-
teen years of age, by whom he had
four daughters and two sons, viz.,
Tliomas, Nanny, Jane, Molly, Anna,
and George. Thomas was born Sep-
tember, 1716.
Anna married James Gilmore, of
Windham.
Peggv married Andrew McFarland.
Nanny married Robert McCurdy,
of Londonderry.
Jane married Capt. John Wise.
Molly married John Moore, of Lon-
donderr3'.
George Christie lived to an old age.
Jesse Christie lived to about 63
years.
James Christie was born October
20, 1715. At the age of 14 he came
to America, his father having emi-
grated to America many years before.
Previous to his coming to America he
lived with Peter Christie, one of his
uncles, a rich farmer. At the age of
28 years he married Agnes Canada,
who was about 20 years of age. She
was born Sept. 15, 1723. This union
produced four sons and two daugh-
ters. He died Oct. 1, 1755. The fol-
lowing are the names of his children :
Bettie Christie, born July 7, 1745.
James Christie, born Jan. 16, 1747.
Thomas Christie, born April 17,
1749.
Peter Christie, born June 6, 1751.
Anne Christie, born Sept. 17, 1753.
Jesse Christie, born Aug. 1, 1755.
After his death (Oct. 1, 1755), his
widow, Agnes, married James Quin-
ten, by whom she had two sons, viz.,
Joshua Quinten, born March 6,
1762; died March 2, 1829.
John Quinten, born May 6, 1768;
died March 15, 1829.
(James Quinten had also been pre-
viously married, and had by his first
wife sons Hugh and David, and a
daughter.)
Betty Christie married John Mc-
Murphy, and died Feburary or March,
1833.
James Christie died Sept. 5, 1789.
Thomas Christie, drowned Dec. 8,
1773.
Peter Christie died May 8, 1777.
Thomas Christie married Molly
Howlet (widow of Laomi Howlet,
and daughter of John Smith, of Box-
ford, Mass.), by whom he had three
sons, the second of whom died in in-
fancy.
James, the oldest, was born Dec.
31, 1769.
Thomas was born March 11, 1773.
Molly, widow of Thomas Christie,
after his death married Jonathan Bur-
pee, who was born Oct. 16, 1751.
Thomas Christie, son of Thomas,
married Susan Christie, July 16, 1809,
and after her death, Mary Kendrick.
He died Aug. 7, 1848 ; and she died
Jan. 30, 1884, aged 90years, 7 months,
25 da^'s, leaving two sons, — James A.
Christie and Thomas S. Christie, —
both now living at Detroit, Mich.
Their grandfather, Thomas Christie,
was one of tlie pioneers of St. John,
N. B., having emigrated to that place
about 1762-'63, where his son Thomas
was born in 1773. The latter came
to Fairhaven, Vermont, about 1808 ;
and subsequently settled in Western
New York, where he died ; and his
widow and children moved to Detroit,
Mich.
54
Localities in Ancient Dover.
LOCALITIES IN ANCIENT DOVER— No. III.
By John R. Ham, M. D.
Plum Pudding Hill. So called in
the Coffin grant in 1670 ; if was be-
tween Cocbecho and Tole End, on the
Tole End road. It was probably the
high ground between (now) Lexing-
ton and Arch streets.
Pomeroy's Cove. It was on the
Newichawannock river ; Major Rich-
ard Waldron, in 1652, had a grant of
Pomeroy's cove "to make a dock."
Sandy point bounded it on one side.
Quaker Pastures. There were
two Quaker Pastures set apart "to
the inhabitants of this town [Dover]
commonly called Quakers for the bet-
ter Inabliug them to accomodate their
Travelling friends." One was voted
on May 20, 1717, of ten acres, "by
the way that goes to Mallego, at the
head of our town bounds between
Belleman's Bank river and the mast
path that now goeth to Mallego." The
other, of ten acres also, was voted in
same terms on 2.5 June, 1717, on
Dover Neck, "between the watering
gutt' and Cochecho."
QuampheganorQuampeagan. The
Indian name of the falls at South
Berwick at the head of tide water.
The settlers called the stream below
the falls the Newichawannock, and
the stream above the fall the Salmon
Falls river.
Redding's Point. So called as
early as 1G52 ; it was a point of land
on the south side of the Pascataqua
river, east of Goat island.
Reyner's Brook. The brook which
flows into Cochecho river on the east
side, and next above the fifth falls of
the same. It derived its name from
a grant of land, in 1656, to Rev. John
Reyner, and is retained to this day.
His grant, comprising 400 acres, was
on the east side of Cochecho river,
commencing at the upper side of the
farm now the homestead of Alderman
Nathaniel Home, and "running north-
east from the river 320 rods ; thence
north-west 240 rods ; thence south-
west 320 rods to the river, just below
the Sunken island ; then 240 rods by
the river to the first bound." See
Sunken island. This grant was re-
laid to John Waldron in 1721.
Riall's Cove. The cove on the
western side of Back river, and next
south of Frenchman's creek. It was
so called as early as 1643. It is the
same as Royall's cove, from Teague
Riall, or Royall, who had a grant
there.
Roads. On 27 October, 1653, the
highway was laid out, five rods wide,
from the second falls of the Cochecho
"eastward to the swamp." That is
from the (now) Whittier's fall to the
George W. Pao-e farm. In 1661 a
road was laid out from Cochecho to
Oyster river, " fitt for man aud
horse." In 1724 the road was laid
out, four rods wide, from Hilton's
point to the meeting-house at Pine
hill. It was only a narrow cartway
prior to this date, and had never been
laid out by the town.
Rock Island. The small island
south-east of Goat island, and it was
crossed by the Pascataqua bridge of
1794.
Rocky Point. The point of land
extending from the Newingtou shore,
Localities in Aiicioif Dover.
55
in Broad cove, aud below Fox point,
so called as early as 1657. Was this
the same as Rock island?
Royall's Cove. It was on the
west side of Rack river nest south
of Frenchman's creek, and so called
as early as 1643. The same as Riall's
cove, from Teague Rial!, or Royall,
who had a grant of land there.
Sandy Bank. A locality on the
east bank of Lamprey river, and so
called in the Huo;h Donn grant in
1664.
Sandy Point. On one side of
Pomeroy's cove in 1660.
Scatterwit. a district on the east
side of Cochecho river, adjacent to the
fourth falls of the same, and thus
called as early as 1701. The Sanford
and Everts map of Strafford Co., in
1871, erroneously calls it Scatter-
with.
ScouDEw's Wigwam. Philip Scou-
dew, an Indian, had a grant from the
town of marsh land at Great bay
prior to 1643, and had a wigwam
there in that year.
Shankhassick. The Indian name
of the first falls on Oyster river, at
the head of. tide water.
Sligo. a district on the west side
of the Newichawannock river, lying
between St. Albon's cove and Quam-
phegan, and thus called as early as
1694. Some of the early settlers at
this point came from Sligo, Ireland.
Sligo Garrison. There was a
garrison at Sligo as early as 1709, be-
tween St. Albon's cove and Quam-
phegan.
Starbuck's Brook. The first brook
which flows into the Cochecho on the
east side, above the first falls of the
same. Elder Edward Starbuck had
a grant in 1643 at (now) Home's hill
on Sixth street, and the brook at
the foot of Home's hill derived its
name from him. Starbuck sold tliis
grant to AVilliam Home, the first of
the name in Dover.
Stevenson's Creek. It was thus
called as early as 1700, and flows into
Oyster river on the south side, below
the first falls.
St. Albon's Cove. Situated on
the west side of the Newichawannock
river, and about one half a mile be-
low the falls at Quamphegan, the
head of tide water. It was thus
called as early as 1652 ; it is often
called Styles's cove, and is iu the
town of Rollinsford.
Stony Brook. Three of the name
are mentioned in the land grants, and
all of them in the Oyster River parish.
One, so called in 1653, in Davis
grant, flowed on the south side of the
Woodman garrison, and emptied into
Beard's creek, on the western side of
the same.
Another, so called in 1674, flowed
into Oyster river on the south side,
and more than a mile below the first
falls. The third, mentioned in Doe
grant in 1711, flowed into Larapereel
river on the east side, and a little be-
low the head of tide water.
Sunken Island. An island which
has been all under water since the
erection of the dam on the fifth falls
of the Cochecho, and which was thus
called as early as 1700. It is oppo-
site the mouth of the brook which
separates the old Dover town farm
(now Eli Page's) from the present
Strafford county farm. It served in
1721 to mark the west end of the
northern line of the 400 acre grant to
the Rev. John Reyner, and was thus
called in the description of the bounds.
56
^Localities in Ancient Dover
Three Creeks (The). So called
as early as 1695, situated near each
other, and uear the mouth of Back
river, on the west side.
Tole P^nd. a district on the west
side of Cochecho river, and adjacent
to the second falls of the same, so
called, and limited to the second falls
in 1658 in the laud grants. One
grant says, " neare Mr. Towle, his
End." A log hill was laid out in
1703, "at the second fall, or Tole
End fall," on the west bank. The
name has come to be applied to the
whole district ou the west side of
Cochecho river, and lying above the
second fall.
Tomson's Point. On the east side
of Upper Neck (Dover), and so called
as early as 1656.
Turtle Pond. So called in 1694,
and again in the Sias grant in 1719,
as being '"on the north side of the
mast path." Was it not another
name for Barbadoes pond?
Varney's Hill. The name which,
after tlie purchase of Ebeuezer Var-
nev in 1696, was given to the "Great
hill," alias the "Great Cochecho
hill " From the first grants of laud
down to 1700 it bore the latter name ;
from 1700 till since 1834 it was uni-
versally called Varney's hill ; and
since 1834 it has commonly but
erroneously been called Garrison hill.
Whitehouse's map of Dover, in 1834,
calls it Varney's hill.
Wadleigh's Falls. The sixth
falls of the Lampereel river, six miles
from its mouth, and so called as early
as 1701 from the owner, Robert Wad-
leigii. This fall was called the
"Island falls" in a conveyance to
Samuel Symonds in 1657, from the
fact that an island was in the stream
at or near the falls.
Wadleigh's Mills. On the sixth
falls of Lampereel river, and so called
as early as 1701 ; also called the
"Hook mill," from a remarkable turn
in the river near this point.
Waldron Burial Ground. The
burial ground adjoiuing the Metho-
dist meeting-house. Tradition says
the bones of Major Richard Waldron
were taken from the smoldering ruins
of his garrison in 1689, and buried
there. His great-grandson, Capt.
Thomas Westbrooke Waldron, who
died in 1785, was buried there, and
his tombstone says "the remains of
Major Richard Waldron lie near this
spot."
Waldron's Garrison. Major Rich-
ard Waldrou's garrison, which was
destroyed in the Indian rriassacre at
Cochecho on June 28, 1689, stood on
the west side of Central avenue, and
midway between First and Second
streets, and a few rods back of the
present street line. National block
stands exactly' in front of the garri-
son site.
Waldron's Logging S^amp. In
1652 (then Captain) Richard Waldron
had a grant of " two thirds of all the
timber Iving and growing between
Cochecho first falls and Bellemaye
Bank, and so westward between the
river of Cochecho and the freshitt
the runs to Bellomyes Bank to the ut-
most bounds of Dover." The de-
scription of the land grants, and the
known location of the Major's mills
on the first falls of the Cochecho and
the "Log hill" (where the D. & P.
R. R. crosses the old bed of the Co-
checho), where the logs were tum-
bled down into the long mill-pond,
Localities in Ancient Dover.
57
enables us to locate "the great raast
path leading into the logging swarap."
It ran from "Log hill" south, in the
line of (now) Lexington street, with
" Plum Pudding hill" on the immedi-
ate right hand side ; then curving a
little to the west, it crossed "the
road leading from Cochecho to Tole
End," and continuing became what is
now the road to Little worth.
Wednesday Hill. So called in
land grants as early as 1700 ; it is in
the present town of Lee, a mile and
a half south-east of Lee hill, on
what was once the Lee town farm,
and now owned by Daniel Smith.
Tradition says a fight with Indians
occurred there on Wednesday, and
hence the name of the hill.
Welshman's Cove. On Great bay
in Newington, and was thus called as
early as 1652. Did "Welsh" James
Grant have laud there ?
Wheelwright's Pond. So called
from the Rev. John Wheelwright as
early as 1666, and the name is re-
tained to this day. It is in the pres-
ent town of Lee, and is the source of
Oyster river. It was at this pond
that Captain Wiswall, Lieut. Flagg,
Sergeant Walker, and twelve privates
were slain, on July 6, 1690, in an en-
gagement with the Indians. Capt.
P'loj^d, with the remainder of the two
companies, was obliged to retreat.
When Capt. Con vers, the next morn-
ing, went to look after the wounded,
he found the Indians had retreated at
the same time. He found seven
whites who were wounded, and buried
the dead above mentioned.
White Hall. The name of a
swamjj in Rochester, to the north-east
of the Great pond (Cochecho, also
Willand's), and so calleil as early as
]6r)0, when a grant of land was laid
out to James Kidd, "north of the
Great Pond, on the road leading to
White Hall." The name is retained
till this day. Was it given as a bur-
lesque on the king's palace of the
same name in London ?
Willand's Pond. The name which
is commonly given to what was known
as late as 1834, on Whitehouse's map
of Dover, as Cochecho pond. The
County Atlas of New Hampshire, by
Hitchcock, in 1871, calls it Willand's
pond. The Strafford County Atlas,
by Sauford and Everts, in 1871, calls
it Cocheco {sic) or Willand's poud.
The latter name is derived from a
family who lived at the head of the
pond.
WiNNICHAHANNAT OR WeCANACO-
HUNT. The Indian name of Hilton's
point. Edward Hilton's patent, in
1629-'30, March 12, calls it Wecana-
cohunt; but Capt. Thomas Wiggin,
May 22, 1656, surrendered his interest
in the " Winnichahaunat or Hilton
point" lands.
Woodman's Garrison. Capt. John
Woodman's garrison, which was suc-
cessfully defended in the Indian mas-
sacre at Oyster river on July 17,
1694, and which stands to-day in a
good state of preservation, is on the
east side of Oyster river, and half a
mile above the falls at the head of
tide water.
58
Dr. Brewer's Address.
DR. BREWER'S ADDRESS.
Alumni Dinner, Dartmouth College, at Washington, D. C, 1884.
Washington, D. C, Mav. 18, 1884.
Editor Granite Monthly :
Dear Sir: Feb. 5, 1884, the ''Dart-
raoutli College Association" of this
cit}' held its annual dinner. Among
the toasts was the following: "Dart-
mouth men in politics : the history of
our government attests their fidelity."
This was responded to by Dr. P^rancis
B. Brewer, class of '43, a member
of congress from the Thirty-Third dis-
trict of New York. Dr. Brewer was
born in Keene, N. H., and educated
in the public schools, and a graduate
of both the Academical and Medical
departments of Dartmouth college.
The article contains much valuable
history pertaining to the college,
which I furnish for publication by the
consent of Dr. Brewer.
Respectfully,
William H. Gardiner,
Historian of the D. C. A. of Washington.
Mr. President :
When you did me the honor to in-
vite me to respond to the sentiment
"Dartmouth men in politics," I felt
it would have been much better if you
had selected some one more familiar
with the alumni of the college during
the last half century ; and then I
thought I stood on middle ground,
and could look back and see some of
the giants we had in those days, who
had gone down to their graves cov-
ered with honor, and leaving names
which will be household words in all
coming time, and I ought not to re-
fuse to call the roll this evening. The
names of the graduates of Dartmouth
college, who have been directly or in-
directly associated with the politics of
our nation, are found on every page
of our national and political history
for the last sixty years.
The ver}^ first class that ever grad-
uated from the rude halls of our alma
mater had a man who, soon after he
left college, became a power in the
state, and as a member of the legisla-
ture controlled the politics of north-
ern New Hampshire for many years.
This was John Wheelock, afterwards
president of the institution from which
he graduated. Soon after came Sam-
uel Allen, who as a member of the
Twelfth congress stood alone and
voted for a ballot to all, black and
white.
Next class graduated Sylvester Gil-
bert, who was a stirring local politi-
cian, and an active and thorough rep-
resentative in the congress of the
United States from Connecticut. The
year following, John S. Sherburn took
his degree, and was soon after elected
to congress from New Hampshire.
Next year Henry Huntington took his
departure from the college, and soon
after turned up a New York state
senator. And so I might go on, and
each successive year name one or
more from each graduating class who
helped to mould and guide the politi-
cal opinions of the state and nation,
till we come down to Dudley Chase,
of Cornish, N. H., the immediate an-
cestor of Salmon P. Chase, late chief-
justice of the United States. He was
member of the Vermont legislature
and U. S. senator.
Martin Chittenden, governor of
Vermont; Silas Dinsmore, of 1791,
held many important and responsible
situations under the government ; and
to illustrate that the tenure of office
Dr. B?- ewers Address.
59
was as precarious in those days as in
ours, I will relate a circumstance
whicli occurred while he was holding
a government position in Alabama.
The then secretary of state wrote him
to know how far the Tombigbee river
ran up into the country. He replied,
"The river does not run up, but
always runs down ;" and very soon
he was requested to hand in his resig-
nation.
I will only mention Samuel Rell of
New Hampshire, Erastus Root of
Connecticut, and Henry Allen of Ver-
mont, and hasten on to the name of
the man which marks an epoch in
the history of the college, as his gigan-
tic intellect and towering genius, his
profound learning and his acknowl-
edged superiority as a statesman and
diplomatist, mark his career as an
epoch in the history of our nation. I
hardly need pronounce the name of
Daniel Webster. He stood a tower-
ing giant in the defence of his re-
nowned alma mater durino; her early
trials and struggles, as he always was
the foremost and most successful ex-
pounder of international law, the de-
fender of our national constitution
during his entire political career. But
to say what ought to be said concern-
ing this man would occupy an entire
evening ; so I pass on, and mention
Levi Woodbury, the governor of New
Hampshire, U. S. senator and cabi-
net officer, — a man of great and
varied attainments ; a shrewd, suc-
cessful politician, carrying great ex-
ecutive ability into all the positions
he occupied, and always reflecting
dignity and credit upon the college
from which he graduated.
Then comes Thaddeus Stevens, —
the old war-horse of politics, and the
unflinching champion of the rights of
men, let their nationality or color be
what it might, — keen as a lawyer,
shrewd as a politician, honest as a
legislator, successful in all. The de-
fender of human rights, he gave no
rest to himself or those around him,
till, by his persistent efforts, he in-
duced President Lincoln to issue the
proclamation of emancipation, when
the shackles fell from the limbs of
four million slaves, and converted
them into American citizens.
I would speak of the brilliant
Choate, — the unequalled advocate and
lawyer, the graceful and eflficient leg-
islator ; or of Salmon P. Chase, who,
as a judge on the supreme bench, a
national financier and cabinet oflflcer,
or as the governor of Ohio : in what-
ever position he was placed, he was a
brave leader and an honest man.
These were some of the men who
were accounted great in my college
days. Ah ! we had giants in those
days. They moulded and directed
public opinion ; they gave weight and
dignity to political as well as to
moral and religious life. I ought not
to stop in the middle of the list of
Dartmouth men who have been con-
spicuous in the politics of our states
and our nation. We cannot forget
Dana, and Dinsmore, and Goodwin,
and Adams, and Clark, and Elastman,
and Flanders, and Gooch, and Hibbard,
and George P. Marsh, and James W.
Patterson, and Reed, and Root, and
Charles B. Haddock, and a host of
others, who have, by their eminent
abilities and broad statesmanship,
added new lustre each succeeding
decade to the already brilliant record
of the alumni of Dartmouth college.
I had almost forgotten to mention
6o
Matthexv Harvey.
'' Long Joliu Wentworth," — a true
son of our altna mater. I ought to
have given him a prominent place ;
bnt he spoke for himself at the meet-
ing of the alumni last summer at
Hanover, and it would be impossible
for me to add a single leaf to the
laurel which he placed upon his own
brow on that interesting occasion.
And now, instead of mentioning
the name of each particular man who
graduated from Dartmouth college,
and went out into the world to make
it I tetter, and in his private way or in
a public position directl}^ or indirectly
took part in the great drama of polit-
ical life, who helped to guide and in-
fluence American sentiment in such a
way that the greatest good may be
realized by the greatest number, and
our nation become not only great but
good, — for the names of these men,
I most respectfully refer you to the
last triennial catalogue. Drop out the
names of a few, a very few at that,
and the residue will be the names of
the graduates of old Dartmouth, who.
from the pulpit and the rostrum, and
by personal influence, have been striv-
ing to make politics honorable as a
profession to such as were called into
political life, and to demonstrate to
the world that a man may be a pol-
itician and not a rascal, a states-
man and not a deraagoafue. It was
Calederaus, the Athenian philosopher,
who upon his death-bed said to his
son Spencipius, — "In my da}' lying
was not elevated to a science, neither
was politics degraded into a trade."
Let us hope the good seed sown at
old Dartmouth may be so scattered
and so blessed, that when we come to
the end of our lives we may be con-
scious that we have done what we
could to elevate the science of politics,
that it may never be degraded into a
trade.
In closing, permit me to quote from
New England's charming rhymist :
" Enough : there are gentlemen waiting to talk,
Whose words are to mine as the flower to the
stalk;—
Stand by your old mother, whatever befall:
God bless all her children! Good-night to ye all."
MATTHEW HARVEY.
By C. C. Lord.
In every department of creation are
two manifestations of force. In hu-
man society, these forces resolve into
conservative and reformatoiT agen-
cies ; these two agencies act and react
upon each other. Social government
is like a pendulum that swings be-
tween two extreme points.
Sometimes great social contingen-
cies swallow up small ones. Some-
times, also, small ones absorb the atten-
tion that belongs to great ones. In
either situation, the affairs of society
seem to be out of balance.
When people become dissatisfied
with their government, there is ex-
hibited a disposition to substitute
another of a reverse dynamic char-
acter. In this, the social pendulum
evinces an inclination to swing from
one to the opposite side of the per-
pendicular. Sometimes the dynamic
effort is successful. We have an
illustration.
Matthew Harvey.
61
When the people of the united
American colonies put off their fealty
to the British government, there was
a decided reaction against every phase
of monarchical authority. The reac-
tion was effective. The social pendu-
lum swung vigorously away from one
extreme point of monarchism towards
another extreme point of polyarchism.
In some aspects of the case this reac-
tion was so intense as to hinder the
success of a suitable plan of republi-
can government. Let me make a
local application of this remark.
By the provisions of the Federal
constitution, the concessions of nine
states were required to make it effec-
tive. New Hampshire was the ninth
state to ratify the proposed new order
of things. The decisive result was
obtained in Jpne, 1788. In the con-
stitutional convention at Concord
fifty-seven votes were recorded in the
affirmative, and fortv-six in the nega-
tive. The affirmative majority was
not strong. Yet the constitution was
only a compromise between extreme
Federalists and extreme Republicans.
Why this large minority? The true
cause lay deeper than the confessions
of public policy. There was the phe-
nomenon of social dynamic reaction.
The people had thrown off one gov-
ernment. Hence they were slow to
adopt another. An animal broken
from an enclosure doesn't want to re-
turn again. Men are very much like
animals, though they have more meth-
od in their impulses.
In the early Jiistory of this country
the reactive tendency ramified exten-
sively. It pervaded the rural com-
munities. In the town of Hopkinton,
N. H., in 1788, Lieut. Morse was
chosen a delegate to the state conven-
tion, to consider the ratification of
the Federal constitution. The town
took the precaution to instruct him to
" reject the constitution," though it
afterwards conceded his privilege to
act as he thought best for the public
good. The Federal constitution hav-
ing become the law of the land, oppo-
sition seems to have at first succumbed
to indifference. The people of Hop-
kinton did not care particularly to
vote for presidential electors. In
December, 1788, they met so to vote
for the first time. The town-clerk
thus records the result :
"Voted for Electors for this State
I Bailey E Smith R Wallis I Calf &
E Tomson Esquires 49 each of them."
AYhen we consider that in 1786 the
population of Hopkinton was 1,537,
while in 1790 it was 1,715, we easily
comprehend the insignificance of the
above vote. In the year 1792, in
November, the town cast twelve votes
for presidential electors. It was a
unanimous ballot. In 1796, there
was a unanimous cast of thirty-seven
ballots at the presidential election.
In 1800 the state presidential electors
were chosen by the legislature. In
1804 there was an active controversy
in Hopkinton over presidential ques-
tions. The town cast 221 votes ; 143
were for Republican electors, and 78
for Federal ones. The reactive social
element had triumphed. It held the
advance in the casts for national and
state supreme executive officers till
1865, when Walter Harriman received
a majority of the votes of Hopkinton
for governor. Thus, often slowlv
though surely, does the social pendu-
lum oscillate.
At first, New Hampshire was a
Federal state, but it passed over to
62
Matthew Harvey.
the control of Republicanism in 1805.
William Plumer then wrote Uriah
Tracy as follows :
"• Democracy has obtained its long
expected triumph in New Hampshire.
John Langdou is governor-elect. His
success is not owing to snow, rain,
hail, or bad roads, but to the incon-
trovertible fact that the Federalists of
this state do not compose the majori-
ty. Many good men have grown
weary of constant exertions to sup-
port a system whose labors bear a
close affinity to those of Sisyphus."
To comprehend all that was implied
in the popular conception of this po-
litical chano-e, one needs to reflect in
part upon a condition of society no
longer obtaining. The dominant Fed-
eral element was largely embodied in
the professional and official classes,
who formed a kind of select aristoc-
racy, more separated from the sym-
pathy and cooperation of the common
people than any considerably influen-
tial class in New Hampshire to-day.
In a sense, the triumph of Republi-
canism was the success of the masses
of the people. The commonalty, so
to speak, had asserted their right to
lead as well as to be led. The rights
of the people have formed the theme
of every anti-Federalist since the
adoption of the constitution.
In 1800, the town of Hopkinton,
N. H., was in a prosperous and thriv-
ing condition. Its population was in-
creasing. It kept on increasing for
at least thirty more years. Hopkin-
ton, during a considerable portion of
this time, was a town of public dis-
tinction and celebrity. It was a cen-
tre of commercial, judicial, political,
and social activity and enterprise. Its
influence was felt in every department
of the commonwealth. Besides, in
1800, the conditions of political clas-
sification in Hopkinton differed in no
material respect from those of the rest
of the state. Consequently, in 1804,
when the tide of political favor was
turning towards Republicanism, the
public position of Hopkinton made it
a favorable field for the location of
some individual of political ambition,
who might improve the opportunity
of the flooding tide of Republicanism
to ride on to fortune. The opportun-
ity witnessed the aspirant. The right
man appeared. His name was Mat-
thew Harvey.
Matthew Harvey was born in Sut-
ton, N. H., June 21, 1781. He was
a son of Matthew Harvey and Hannah
Sargent. He prepared for college
under the tuition of the Rev. Samuel
Wood, D. D., of Boscavven. He grad-
uated at Dartmouth college in the
class of 1806. He studied law with
John Harris, of Hopkinton, and was
admitted to the bar in 1809. He then
opened an office in Hopkinton, and
began his professional career. Pos-
sessed of merit and capacity, he rose
to distinction ; endowed with certain
temperamental characteristics, he be-
came a prominent leader in Republi-
can (or Democratic) politics. In a
special sense he became an eminently
popular public official.
The possession of honesty, capaci-
ty, knowledge, judgment, and refine-
ment does not guarantee the com-
mand of a majority of the popular
vote. There were honest, capable,
informed, judicious, and refined Fed-
eralists (or Whigs) in New Hamp-
shire in Matthew Harvey's day, but,
by the same elective instrumentalities,
they could not occupy his station.
The same may also be said of certain
Matthew Harvey.
63
honest, capable, informed, judicious,
and refined New Hampshire Republi-
cans (or Democrats) of his time. In
the sense in wliicli we mean it, to be
a popuhir public official, above and
outside of every other profitable qual-
ification, a man must have public
genius. He must have that peculiar
instinct and adaptation that will enable
liitn to be, in a sense, all things to all
men. Exalted and dignified in person-
al characteristics though he be, his
communication must be something
more than yea and nay. He must be
diplomatic in action and in speech.
He must know how to safely encounter
formidable dilemmas, and successful-
ly harmonize adverse social elements.
He must know how to sail between
Scylla and Chary bdis, and bridge the
gulf between Dives and Lazarus. He
must be universal in his sympathies
and communistic in his tendencies.
Yet he must have an individual con-
centration of purpose and courage
that sometimes impels one to a kind
of personal independence of all pre-
scribed formularies, for this is often
the strongest cord that binds him to
the popular favor. Having once gain-
ed public recognition, he must become
in a certain sense absolute in author-
ity and power. In a measure, at least,
such a man was Matthew Harvey.
In Hopkinton, in a sense, Matthew
Harvey stood alone. There was no
other Republican of equal public
capabilities. There were other pro-
fessional and influential men, but,
until later times, they were mostly
^federalists. To strictly interpret an
individual character, we must contem-
plate it at home. As he was in him-
self, Matthew Harvey could be seen
only in Hopkinton. A man's peculiar
selfhood is best known to his intelli-
gently observing neighbors. In his
own familiar circle of acquaintances,
Matthew Harvey expressed tliose per-
sonal qualities and traits that become
embalmed in anecdote. Arising from
individual association, an anecdote,
in respect to its details, ma}' be true
or false, but the spirit of its illustra-
tive expression is almost always true
and unmistakable. In such a matter,
too, the spirit is the reliant qualifica-
tion : the flesh profiteth nothing. In
Hopkinton, Matthew Harvey form-
ed a domestic circle. Here he met
and married Margaret Rowe, a na-
tive (?) of Newburyport, Mass. They
had two children, a son and a daugh-
ter. In the domestic circle, he appar-
entlv exhibited that undiscriminating
sympathy which forms a part of the
character of an eminently popular
man. This sympathy is communis-
tic in its tendencies. That his two
tiny, unfolded, endeared, and tender
children might early develop instincts
of proprietorship, was a thought he
reluctantly tolerated. It is said that
he ordered for his children two small
chairs of exact pattern, size, and
ornamentation. There was to be no
distinguishing difference ; then there
could be no exclusive ownership in
either. Soon after becoming a portion
of the household furniture, they be-
came the subject of a childish dispute.
Matthew Harvey was surprised to
hear his little son say to his sister,
'' This is my chair." The father ask-
ed, " How do you know that to be
3'our chair?" In an instant the little
fellow inverted its position and show-
ed the mark of a knot in the wood on
the underside of the seat. There was
no similar knot-mark on the other
64
Matthew Harvey.
chair. Masculine cliildish discrimi-
nation had noted the difference, and
appropriated the result of discern-
ment. Preemptive instinct had de-
feated communistic determination.
Such has been, is now, and will be
the world's experience. Other things
equal, instinct confronts, encounters,
and vanquishes reflection, world with-
out end.
Diplomacy is only another name for
shrewdness. Shrewdness is operative
intelligence. Intelligence, in opera-
tion, is indispensable to society. A
man is not a subject for condemna-
tion simply for being diplomatic.
Goodness itself leans upon intelli-
gence for guidance. We must be as
keen in judgment as we are pure in
intention, if we are to realize the best
results of living. In a wav, Matthew
Harvey was " as wise as a serpent,"
though in another he was " as harm-
less as a dove." He could defeat the
machinations of an individual without
directly opposing him. Let us relate
an incident. It is taken from the
more familiar circle of his personal
experiences.
One of Matthew Harvey's neighbors
was a man of extreme impecuniosity.
He was thriftless and irresponsible.
Such men, by the force of want, often
have their selfish wits sharpened to
the degree of moral recklessness.
This impecunious neighbor once called
upon Matthew Harvey for a loan of
five dollars. He fortified solicitation
with a gratuitous promise to pay on a
certain early day. Such a circum-
stance suggested hesitation on the
part of the one solicited. That a
man of utter pecuniary irresponsibili-
ty could have suddenly arrived at that
perfection of business economy that
would enable him certainly to pay five
dollars at a near and specified time,
was incredible to Matthew Hai'vey.
There was a suspicious phase of the
request. Still Matthew Harvey did
not reveal his suspicion. Neither did
he directly refuse the applicant, as
many others would have done. Re-
tiring into privacy a moment, lie
marked a five dollar bill in a manner
securing its future identification. lie
then returned and loaned it. True to
his word, in a few days the borrower
called and paid his debt. The lender
privatel}' observed that it was the
original five dollar bill. Not a word
of accusation or extenuation passed.
In a short time the impecunious indi-
vidual appeared again, soliciting this
time a loan of ten dollars. "Mr.
," said Matthew Harvey, "you
and I are square now, and I think we
had better remain so. You disap-
pointed me once, and I don't wish
you to do so again."
We have already mentioned the dis-
tinctiveness of social classes in the
former time in Hopkiuton. The prev-
alence of a kind of aristocratic class
engendered within its ranks a corre-
sponding etiquette. An acknowledged
social formulary in the upper class
implied the superior dignity and priv-
ilege of age, and corresponding infe-
rior attitudes and powers of youth.
Young people were not expected to
assume the prominence and forward-
ness that they sometimes now do. In
the instance of such assumption, re-
buke would most likely be incurred.
After Matthew Harvey had risen'^)
the dignity and authority of a mem-
ber of the congress of the United
States, being one time at home, he
called upon a Federalist neighbor, a
Matthew Harvey.
H
citizen of prorainencc and note. The
F'ederalist neigiibor had a youthful
son who was an enthusiastic admirer
of Heury Clay. Being young, the son
could not well brook the reports cir-
culated adversely to the personal
reputation of his favorite statesman.
Being full of immature political zeal,
the youth ventured to ask Matthew
Harvey directly, though he was a
guest in his own father's house, if a
certain accusation made against Hen-
ry Clay was true. Such conduct
shocked the young man's father ex-
ceedingly. Matthew Harvey was
none the less annoyed by it. Still he
he did not rebuke the youth or refuse
to answer. Nor was his reply a di-
rect one. He only said, " I have no
doubt that when Mr. Clay was a
young man, in the fervor and impet-
uosity of youth, he may have done
some tilings that his mature judgment
would not countenance in riper years."
This reply, of which we have aimed
to give only the substance, was spok-
en mildly. Yet there was a peculiar
emphasis to the words '• 3'oung man,"
and a general bearing of the whole
remark upon the indiscretion of youth
and the discretion of manhood, that
created the sharpest sense of rebuke
in the mind of the inquirer, who was
suddenly reduced to that humility
that indulges no impertinent inquiries
in the presence of those before whom
it is its first privilege to be silent.
Matthew Harvey was many years
in office. He was the incumbent of
smaller as well as of greater offices.
In this we have one evidence of his
cosmopolitic tendencies. He was
moderator of Hopkintou's annual
town-meeting from 1826 to 1828 ;
also in 1833 and 1834 ; again in 1840
and 1841 ; and finally from 1845 to
1850. During all tlie time that Mat-
thew Harvey was a resident of Hop-
kinton, there were palmy days of anti-
Federalism, or of Democracy. There
might have been a scliism now and
then over subsidiary political ques-
tions, but on an issue of Democracy
or no Democracy there was no waver-
ing. In possession of a large work-
ing majority, a political party enjoys
an exemption that encourages admin-
istrative laxness. In this fact we
have a suggestion of the truth that
too much prosperity is often the earn-
est of sudden adversity. The anti-
Federalist party being in a sense a
protest against public political form-
alism, the evidences of a certain in-
herent laxness of method in its pro-
ceedings could not fail to be witnessed
during its long predominance in Hop-
kinton. Informality, in individuals
and in parties, often obtains more in
speech than in action. Human nature
will not always talk by the card, even
when in action it literally obeys the
precept. This phenomenon of verbal
license is always the most prominent
in reactive social organizations.
In politics Matthew Harvey repre-
sented the reactive element in govern-
ment. In the position of a political
leader, it was but natural that he
should at times exhibit the tendency
to outward indifference to formalism
so natural to his political clan. It
has been told of him, that, beiuar
chosen to his frequent office of mod-
erator of town-meeting, instead of
saying to the voters of the town,
"You will now please forward your
ballots for town-clerk," he would
sometimes sa^', — " You will now
please forward your ballots for Joab
66
Matthew Harvey.
Patterson for town-clerk." In fact,
it was a small perversion of formal-
ities. Joab Patterson was a popular
town-clerk, and was frequently re-
elected, as may be said of other town-
clerks ; and no one was deprived of
the liberty of his ballot by Matthew
Harvey's remark. But in the same
position, there are few men who
would take the responsibility of so
much freedom of public utterance.
In Matthew Harvey's case there was
only an indulgence of a light pleas-
antr^' ; in another's case, it might be
a construed usurpation of personal
privilege. A match is a very little
thins:, but it sometimes kindles a
great fire.
According to local report, in one
instance at least, Matthew Harvey
had his instinct of inforraalism put to
a peculiar test. In religion, in early
life he had been more or less inti-
mately associated with the Baptist
church, which, in its functional eccle-
siasticism, has ever been eminently
democratic. We can easily conceive
that such a church would have offered
opportunities congenial to such a
man as Matthew Harvey. In Hop-
kinton, however, he became connected
with the Protestant Episcopal church.
He subscribed to the ecclesiastical
constitution of Christ's church, or-
ganized in 1803. Christ's church was
truly Protestant Episcopal, but its
worship was conducted with a lesser
ritualistic exactness than has obtained
in St. Andrew's church, reconstructed
from the elements of Christ's church
in 1827, when Matthew Harvey be-
came a vestryman of the new or-
ganization. Rev. Moses B. Chase,
founder of St. Andrew's church, in-
troduced into its worship the practice
of kneeling at the chancel rail to re-
ceive the communion from the priest.
Matthew Harvey was impatient at
this innovation. It is said he turned
his back in church when the most
solemn Christian rite was in progress.
We can excuse him, having a large
measure of the instinct of informal-
ism. He was perhaps thinking of
ritualistic bondage, prelatical usur-
pation, hierarchical inquisition. With-
out special evidence in the case, we
presume Matthew Harvey overcame
his aversion to the eucharistic genu-
flexion. He perhaps eventually con-
ceived that to reverently kneel and
receive a crumb of bread and a drop
of wine from the hands of a pious
priest doesn't defile a man. If any
harm results, it is probably in conse-
quence of some debasing motive or
monstrous interpretation implied in
the act.
Let us now pass from the anecdo- j
tal stage of reflection to turn to a pos-
itive assertion. Among all the ob-
servations made of Matthew Harvey,
we have never heard one to his per-
sonal hurt. Apparently he had no
enemies. Personally considered, this
is an admirable fact. Socially enter-
tained, it is suggestive of philosophi-
cal deduction. In a legitimate sense,
Matthew Harvey must have been a
kind of negative character. Had he
been a man of eminently positive
character, he would have said or done
something that would have provoked
local controversy, aversion, and ani-
mosity. Yet this characteristic neg-
ativeness is an important factor in
society. Without instances of its
individual illustration, society cannot
exist. In Matthew Harvey's case it
was of the utmost importance. By it
Matthezv Harvey.
67
be brought together all the diametri-
cally opposite elements of the anti-
Federalist party at home, and, so far
as liis infliience extended, abroad. In
this he confirmed the proposition we
have already announced as necessa-
rily active in the experience of a
popular man. It was highly essen-
tial that Matthew Harvey should be
popular at home in Hopkinton. If
he had not been, he could not have
represented the town in the state leg-
islature from 1814 to 1820, and been
speaker of the house the last three
3'ears ; neither, probably, would he
have been a member of the national
house of representatives from 1821
to 1825, and afterwards in the state
senate three years, being president
the last two ; nor, most likely, would
he have been a member of the New
Hampshire executive council in 1828
and 1829 ; and he could hardly have
been governor of the state in 1830.
Practical politicians take diligent note
of such contingencies as these. With
a republican form of government, im-
plying many elective officials, it is of
eminent importance that there be men
who can be popular, but it does not
therefore follow that it is every one's
duty to try to be popular ; nor does
respectability necessarily imply pop-
ularity.
In personal stature, Matthew Har-
vey was of medium height and propor-
tions, and erect. In style, he was
tidy, dignified, and gentlemanly. In
social nature, he was geuerous, kind,
and sympathetic ; in moral character,
honest and truthful ; in religious life,
fervent and liberal. His whole per-
sonal identity partook more of the
ideal than of the actual, though he
was not so ideal as to be impractical.
He possessed that gentleness of spirit
and manner that enables one to be
active without appearing to be ag-
gressive. A tendency to the predom-
inance of the ideal in human nature
affords the most pleasing traits. In
Matthew Harvey's case, it revealed
tenderness truly touching. In 1836,
his only daughter, Margaret Eliza-
beth, died. She was a lovely and
promising girl. This bereavement
was a terrible one to her father, of so
susceptible a nature. He buried her
in the village cemetery, enclosed the
grave with an iron fence, planted a
flowering shrub, and erected a small
marble monument — the first of its
kind ever in town. It is said it was
his custom annually, on the anniver-
sary of her death, to write some sen-
timent in a book of remembrance. In
one instance he wrote the following:
tender tribute :
" Daughter, I love thy grave;
The rose tree, with its blossoms fresh and wild,
Waves o'er thy bed : soon shall it wave
O'er me, my child."
At home, Matthew Harvey lived in
the house in Hopkinton village now
occupied by John S. Kimball. It is
situated just west of the Congrega-
tional church. In 1830, being gov-
ernor of the state, he lived in an oth-
erwise unoccupied and larger house a
mile and more east of the village, on
the so-called turnpike. The house is
now occupied by Elijah Spencer. In-
dustrially, Matthew Harvey confined
himself mostly to the duties of his
profession. He showed no particular
interest in the cultivation of an estate.
In 1807 he was taxed in Hopkinton
for one poll; in 1850, the last time
he was taxed here, he possessed
$1,200 in land and buildings, $1,000
in bank stock, and a neat creature
68 Asqnani Lake and its Environs.
worth $16, It does not appear that Matthew Harvey was active in va-
Matthew Harvey ever tilled a field, rious civil enterprises. He was one
though he owned a pasture. of the earliest trustees of Hopkinton
In 1850, Matthew Harvey moved academy, founded in 1827. He was
to Concord, where he died in 1866. many years connected with the New
A single circumstance is of social in- Hampshire Historical society, being
terest in this connection. In Hop- its vice-president from 1829 to 1831,
kinton he had outlived most of his and its president from 1832 to 1834.
old local, public confreres. A new He enjoyed judicial prominence. In
generation had come upon the scene. 1830 he was made a United States
The former reserve, dignity, and district judge, from which fact he
stateliness of the leaders in Hopkin- was widely recognized as " Judge
ton society had almost entirely passed Harvey."
away. Familiarity and freedom were Matthew Harvey's grave is in the
becoming characteristics of the in- old city cemetery at Concord, by that
creasing social common-place. De- of his wife, who survived him a few
prived of his accustomed social op- years. The remains of their daughter
portunities, Matthew Harvey became were removed from Hopkinton to
lonesome. He sought a new home. Concord, her monument also being
It is said he remarked, in substance, transported. Frederick, only son of
that dignity had ceased to abide in Matthew and Margaret Harvey, died
Hopkinton, and he was therefore go- in Louisiana in 1866. He was a phy-
ing awa}'. It was an impulsive remark, sician. There is no living descendant
suggested by unavoidable and unsat- of Matthew Harvey,
jsfactory change
ASQUAM LAKE AND ITS ENVIRONS.
By Fred Myron Colby.
" I felt the cool breath of the north of idvlHc books, poems like the Gcor-
Uefween me and the sun : • • i-i
O'er deep, still lake and lidsy earth gics and the OdvSSCV, StOrieS like
1 saw the cloud shades run. ' " . " , - . ,,
Mrs. Stowe s "Ministers Wooing
" Before me, stretched for glistening miles, n ,, k
Lay mountain-girdled Squam: and the old romaUCC Ot " AUCaSSlU
Like ereen-wineed birds the leafy isles , .-.. , ., ,, t ^ t j-
Upon its bosom swarm.'^ and Nicolettc, and deeper studies
- unrifiier. j. j,^ ^ ^ ^^^^ Country By- Ways " and the
Reader, have you ever been at Lake "Letters of Cicero and Atticus," and,
Squam? If not, then let me invite of course, fish lines and reels,- —
you, when lengthening days bring for, like gentle Isaak Walton, you
thoughts of summer vacation, and will thank heaven for leisure to go-a-
Leo's heats suggest the fiannel shirt fishing; and, when there, you will
and wide straw hat, to hasten thither enjoy yourself as you can just in no
by the nearest route, with a trunk other spot. He who has once been
packed for a month's stay, a number there will have no need to be asked
Asqtiam Lake and its Environs.
69
to go again, for he will return as Per-
sepone from Pluto's kingdom and the
daik shades of Orcus sought ever
year by year the flowery meads and
sylvan streams of Enna — the haunts
of Iier virgin youth. Go where he
will, he will return to this place as
the Mecca of beauty, the holy taber-
nacle of lake and hill and cloud.
Asquam, familiarly abbreviated to
Squam lake, is not so well known as
the Wiunipesaukee, its larger and
statelier sister, but it is not less
woithy of a wide fame and the im-
mortality of verse. In fact, it is con-
sidered by good judges the most pict-
uresque of all the lakes in this region.
Its islands are numerous, set gem-
like in th-e midst of its purple waves,
and glittering with summer green. It
lies in the midst of a beautifully fer-
tile valley, surrounded bv emerald
wooded hills, and overlooked on the
north by the towering stony peaks of
Whiteface, Passaconaway, and Cho-
corua.
All along its shores are picturesque
points and coves, and long wooded
peninsulas interpose their verdure,
cutting off the water vistas up and
down. The scenery resembles that
of Wiunipesaukee, but is more strik-
ing. The mountains are nearer and
grander. Sloping meadows, luxuri-
ously fertile, are interspersed with
cornfields, patches of yellow grain,
and masses of woodland. Artists
have often sought to render . this
scenery in all its perfection ; but the
Divine artist is not easy to copy when
He works on a broad scale. One
sees effects here in a single week
which for their audacity and splendor
the most courageous colorist would
not dare attempt. Only a Turner or
a Claude Lorraine could do them any
manner of justice.
"Come up and see S(piam, and
spend a few days with me," wrote ray
old friend, Col. Cheney, the first of
August. "Come up, and it will go
hard if I do not show you some places
which for beauty are unmatched in
New Hampshire." 80 I went, and,
like the queen of Sheba, I found that
the half had not been told me. The
whole countr}' is a paradise. For a
combination of lake and mountain
view there are several scenes around
Squam which, are not surpassed the
world over.
Ashland is forty miles from Con-
cord as the crow flies. It is on the
line of the Boston, Concord & Mon-
treal Railroad, and every day the long
incoming and outgoing trains deposit
loads of tourists, who have come to
visit the town and the beautiful lake
lying at the gateway of the mountains.
The village is a busv manufacturing
place. There are several large paper-
mills, a hosiery manufactory, woollen-
mill, strawboard-mill, lumber and
grist-mills, glove and mitten manu-
factories, besides several other small
mechanical shops. There are also two
church edifices, ten or a dozen stores
of all kinds, a good hotel, — the Squam
Lake House, managed by the popular
landlord, Charles H. Daniels, — an ex-
cellent high school, conducted by
Prof. D. C. Durgin, and more than
a hundred dwelling-houses. The
scenery around Ashland is delightful,
affording views wild, romantic, and
beautiful. More than Plymouth it is
the Conway of the western side of the
water-shed, and is destined at no dis-
tant day to be a great summer resort.
Ashland is a part of what was once
yo Asqtiam Lake and its Environs.
Holderness, where the memories of Aug. 26, 1778, Mooney was a mem-
the baronial Livermores cluster, and ber of the Committee of Safety, and
whose name is still a potent spell again from Jan. 5, 1779, to April 7,
wherever great deeds and exalted 1779, when he resigned to take corn-
character are venerated. The town- mand of a regiment ordered from
ship, which is small, was taken from New Hampshire for service in Rhode
Holderness in 1868. Pemigewasset Island. He was the member from
river washes the extreme western part Lee in the house of representatives in
of the town. Squam river, the outlet 17S2. In 1784, or thereabouts, Col.
of Squam lake, runs in a south-west Mooney removed to Holderness, of
direction, and empties into the Pemi- which he was a grantee, doubtless at
gewasset. This river affords some the solicitation of his friend, Hon.
of the best water power in the state, Samuel Livermore, the magnate of
much of which is utilized, though that region, who was trying to build
double the capital could be invested up an Episcopal city in the wilder-
on it to good advantage. In one of ness. His name occurs in the earlv
the paper-mills which is still standing records of Holderness as justice of
in the village, the father of Col. T. P. the peace and as selectman. He died
Cheney and of ex-Gov. P. C. Cheney the last of the century, and. was bur-
both worked at the same time for ied on an April day, in the midst of
John Pattee, an early manufacturer, a terrific snow-storm which blockaded
and helped to make the first sheet of the roads for a week. No monument
paper ever manufactured in Ashland, marks his grave save a piece of
Another great name beside that of rough granite, emblematical of the
Livermore is connected with this lo- stern soldier and tried patriot, who
cality. One third of a mile north of served his country well in her time of
Ashland village, on a little knoll in peril.
an open grass field, at present owned Mrs. Betsey Shepard, of Ashland,
by Samuel H. Baker, is the grave of daughter of the first town-clerk of
Hercules Mooney, a worthy of con- Holderness, and who has passed her
tinental days, and a prominent man centennial birthday, remembers Col.
in the state for many years. Col. Mooney well. She states that he
Hercules -Mooney was of Lee. He was a tall, stately man, rather good
was in the "Seven Years War" in looking, and one thoughtful of his
1757 as captain in Col. Meserve's appearance. She also remembers the
regiment. Sept. 20, 1776, he was Livermores, Judge Samuel and Judge
commissioned lieutenant-colonel by Arthur. They had almost feudal
the Committee of Safety in a regi- power, and ruled the town despotical-
raent raised for one year, of which ly many years. Whatever they said
Pierse Long was the colonel. This was law and gospel, and unchange-
regiment was stationed at Newcastle, able as the statutes of the Medes and
The troops were subsequently or- Persians. How have the mighty
dered to Ticonderoga, and the regi- fallen !
ment marched to that fortress in Feb- The roads around Ashland are geu-
ruary, 1777. From May 28, 1778, to erally good, having a firm foundatipn,
Asquain Lake and i/s £)ivirons.
71
apd drviug quickly after rains. The
excursions from this place to many
interesting points are easy and de-
lightful. The top of Mount Wash-
ington can be visited in a day, with
an early return at supper time. All
the attractions of the Notch are with-
in convenient reach. Livermore falls,
Mount Prospect, and the valley of
Baker's river offer tempting prospects
for a day's ride. One of the finest
trips is to Peaked hill, in Bridge-
water, an eminence about 2,200 feet
above the sea level. The five-mile
route is distinguished by what Starr
King would designate as a general
hilliness, but it is very picturesque,
and some fine views are seen looking
back upon Lake Squam and the moun-
tains which loom against the northern,
western, and eastern horizon. We
pass through the town of Bridgewater,
past the present town-house, which
stands solitary and alone like one of
G. P. R. James's horsemen, but where
once was a church, a store, several
dwelling-houses, and the centre of
business generally. As we ascend
the height of land, the valley of New-
found lake is at our right, the water
gleaming like a silver shield in the
westering sunlio-ht. The scene re-
calls Whittier's lines, —
" Under the blue New England skies,
Flooded with guusliine a valley lies."
But on we drive still a mile further,
in the end diverging from the main
road and halting at a farm-house on
the rugged hillside, where we leave
the horses and make the rest of the
ascent on foot. Tramping over rocks
and ledges, thi'ongh runs and pas-
tures where sheep and cattle are feed-
ing, we stand at last on the "tip-
top," where a view greets us that in
some respects rivals any other in New
Hampshire. Instead of being out of
the world, we appear to be just in the
very centre of things, with the great
head of Mount Washington forming
the dome of the earth structure. Tlie
Summit House and signal station are
clearly made out in favorable states
of the atmosphere. An amphitheatre
of mountains shuts in the horizon.
Mount Jefferson to the left of Wash-
ington lifts up its hoary peak, while
Mounts Lafayette and Garfield of the
Franconia range tower aloft with a
superb pose. Moosilauke, in Benton,
is so distinct that we can distinguish
the house on the summit by the naked
eye. Mount Cardigan is at the west,
and Kearsarge and the Grand Monad-
nock are outlined against the southern
horizon. To the north-east and east
Chocorua, Sandwich, and Belknap
mountains are the most prominent
objects.
In nearer adjacency are hills, some
precipitous and rock-ribbed, others
clad with verdure to their crowns —
Plymouth mountain. Beach hill and
Squam mountains, which mirror their
faces in the waves of Lake Squam.
Three large lakes and numerous ponds
of water are visible from this point —
Winnipesaukee on the east, veiled
with soft mist ; farther towai'd tiie
north, Great Squam, gemmed with
isles ; and at the west, lying at our
very feet, Newfound lake, in Hebron
and Alexandria. No fairer view
greeted the sight-seers on the tem-
ple's pinnacle when the kingdoms of
the world passed panorama-like be-
fore the vision. We look over four
counties — Grafton, Belknap, Carroll,
and Merrimack — and can observe
points of land in every county in
72
Asqiiam Lake and its Environs.
New Hampshire. Five fair villages
lie scattered in plain view — Alexan-
dria, Tuftonborough, Meredith, Ash-
land, and Hebron.
Beach hill, just over in New Hamp-
ton, is the mountain of local fame.
It is the peak everybody wishes to
ascend, in order to see the kingdoms
of the earth and the glory thereof.
It is between seventeen and eighteen
hundred feet high, and furnishes a
very respectable little climb on a
warm summer da3^ The view from
the top, though not equal to that
from Peaked hill or Mount Pros-
pect, is a noble one, and seems to
embrace all of central New Hamp-
shire. Mount Lafayette stands firmly
planted in the valley gateway, while
Cliocorua and Paugus stand vast and
rock-ribbed farther to the right. Can-
non mountain just peers over the
right shoulder of Lafayette, and is
often lost in the vast bulk of the
nearer mountain. Cardigan and Kear-
sarge rise in the west and the south
like twin sentinels against the dark
blue skv. The nearer local heights
are like strophe and anti-strophe in a
grand chorus. Old Whiteface, across
Lake Squam, answers to Guustock in
tiie south-east, the Red Hills call to
their vis-a-vis Mount Israel, in Sand-
wich. The music swells all round to
the south, when the foot-hills toward
INIassachusetts rise in gentle undula-
tions like the waves of the sea.
Over across the nearest valley, its
rugged, cliff-like peaks nearly covered
with pine and hemlock, is Mortar hill,
so called from the Indian relic or
natural curiosity on its summit. This
is a mortar-shaped impression in the
solid ledge, about a foot and a half
deep and twelve inches across the
top. The hole would contain, if the
edges had not been battered off bv
those who have visited it, about Jialf
a, barrel of water. The mortar was
probably once used by the Indians to
grind their corn. It is an object of
considerable interest to visitors ; and
as the rock is in a good state of pres-
ervation, the use to which the depres-
sion in it was put, and the position
of the squaw as she sat there and
pounded out the maize for her liege
lord, can readily be determined. The
pestle, which must have been a sec-
ond stone about a foot long, has been
secured by some one and carried off,
as no one about the place knows
aught of it. Any one cannot but be
delighted with his visit to the red
men's granary, as it gratifies alike
the antiquarian and the esthetic in-
stinct.
The lake views at the east and
north-east are magnificent. I know
of no finer lookout in the country.
The summit is a broad terrace, half
ledge, half greensward ; delightful
wood paths, shaded by oaks, beeches,
and birches, skirt the eminence, and
everywhere, from every point of
view, spread the glistening waters,
dotted with their green isles. All
through this valley coniferous forests
are blended with a larger proportion
of deciduous trees. Pine groves,
carpeted with red needles, and breath-
ing out resinous perfumes, are only
frequent enough to form a delightful
feature in the landscape. The white
birch is the most exquisite of the
forest trees. Its stems show brilliant-
ly in the sun on all the mountain
sides. Beech, birch, and maple,
though all begins with A, are all
abundant. While roaming in the
Asquam Lake and its Environs.
73
woods one frequently finds tlie pict-
uresque sugtir-canip, with its little
board house, and out-door lire-place
where the huge kettles are swung. The
elms on the intervale are very tine,
forming with these c^larlnil)g river
meadows such foreground bits as ar-
tists love.
The great attraction hereabouts,
however, is the lake, "'mountain gir-
dled Sqnara," called by Starr King
"the most beautiful of all the small
sheets of water in New England."
We will now have done with Ashland
and its picturesque environs, and
turn our attention to the lake itself,
the important feature of this section.
It is early morning when we betake
ourselves to the steamboat landing at
Little Squam bridge. It is a two-
mile ride from Ashland village,
through a pleasant country. The
course of Squara river is not along
our route, but the lover of the beau-
tiful who would follow it three miles
to its source in the lake will be amply
repaid. We follow, a portion of the
way, the old College road, laid out
by Gov. John Wentworth, in 1769,
from Wolfeborough to Hanover. It
skirted Little Squam, crossed Great
Squam bridge, passed over Shepard
hill, and thence into Centre Harbor,
continuing on through Moultonbor-
ough and Tuftonborough. We passed
the old house where were held some
of the earliest town-meetings of Hol-
derness. The house was owned by
Samuel Shepard, Esq., the first town-
clerk of Holderness, and who was
annually elected to that office forty-
seven years, going out March 10,
1818.
The pretty little steamer lies at the
dock like a real thing of life, dream-
ing, — but where is the lake? There is
only a i)ond, perhaps two miles long
and three fourths of a mile wide, all
siiut in by green hills. But we will
go on board the little steamer Chelms-
ford, Capt. George F. Cummings,
and await developments. The whis-
tle blows, the engine begins to turn,
and we are off. Down at the north-
east is a beautiful little eminence,
crowned by a large and elegant hotel.
That is Shepard hill. Farther to the
north rise the sharp outlines of
Chocorua. We steam on with that
for our polar star. Over at the left,
on the old College road, stands the
ancient mansion occupied for many
years by Rev. Robert Fowle, the
Episcopal minister of Holderness, and
close at hand is the graveyard where
he lies at rest. Born in 1766, he
came to this then frontier town at the
age of twenty-one, and for nearly
sixty years continued over this pas-
torate. He was the. son of Robert
Fowle, nephew of Daniel Fowle, the
first printer in New Hampshire. He
was a man of vigorous understanding,
and was influential in the state, both
in civil and religious affairs.
At Great Squam bridge is the little
hamlet of East Holderness. There
are a post-office and a store and sev-
eral dwellings. Along this ridge of
land began the first settlement in
Holderness, one hundred and twenty-
five years ago. It has done growing
this many a year. The dreamy, an-
tique look reminds one of Centre Har-
bor, which is not so far away. Here
we made the acquaintance of a char-
acter in his way : we refer to George
L. Shepard, Esq. He is an old man
of seventy years, but still erect, and
showing his sturdy Scotch-Irish an-
74 Asquam Lake and its Environs.
cestrv in every feature of bis couute- Several long points reaching out into
nance. Mr. Shepard is full of auec- it diversify the scene, even while they
dote and reminiscence, and abounds prevent the visitor from taking in
in quaint sayings. He is a sou of the whole sweep of view. There are
Major William Shepard, who was also numerous large islands, — Potato,
general factotum to Hon. Samuel Merrill, Sturtevant, Perch, Dark,
Liverraore, and subsequently to his Deakes, Great or Long island, etc., —
son, Judge Arthur. He recollects which make the lake a perfect gem of
many thiugs about the Livermores, loveliness.
and says he can remember hearing Asquam or Squam lake was known
his father say that Henry Clay was and designated as Kusumpe on the
the handsomest man he ever saw in early colonial maps. In Jefferys's map
his life, and that Samuel Livermore of New Hampshire, published in 1755
was the next handsomest. May the for his royal highness the Prince of
old gentleman live long to retail his Wales, it is put down as Kusumpe
fund of anecdote and quaint, dry pond. The word pond is not used,
humor. however, in any belittling sense.
We are not yet on the lake, for we Lake Winnipesaukee is put down as
have to twist for something like half Wiunipissioket pond, Sunapee lake
a mile through the narrows, a strait as Sunape pond, and Ossipee lake
bordered by trees that seem to grow as Ossippa pond. In another map of
directly out of the water. Sailing Massachusetts and New Hampshire,
through this, we seem to be following published in 1767, Jefferys terms the
a serpentine, watery road through the lake Cusumpy. What Kusumpe or
woods. The water is clear as crys- Cusumpy may mean is the wonder,
tal, and here and there are little It is a pretty name, however, and
nooks and vistas that remind one of many still prefer it to Squam, The
scenes on the Assabet and the Con- latter is Indian for water. The name
cord. It is certainly very romantic appears to have been widely dis-
and pleasant, steaming through the tributed, as we find a Squam harbor
narrow waterway in the cool freshness down on the coast of Massachusetts,
of an August morning, witli the bal- and Baker's river, which empties into
samic aroma of the woods scenting the Pemigewasset at Plymouth, was
the air. Here is a new aspect of the early known by the name of Asquam
picturesque. chemuke. Swamscot seems to have
Now the strait widens, and passing nearly the same meaning, and was
a miniature Hell Gate, we swing out almost as widely used. The Indian
into the lake, wliich, however, does name soon supplanted the other, and
not reveal its whole extent to the eye as early as the beginning of the cen-
at once. Squam lake is the third in tury Squam came into general use.
size of the lakes of New Hampshire, In ''Farmer and Moore's Gazeteer
being surpassed only by Winnepesau- of New Hampshire," published in
kee and Ilmbagog. It is about ten 1823, there is this description of the
miles in length, and any way from lake :"• Squam lake, lying on the bor-
half a mile to six miles in width, der of Holderness, Sandwich, Moul-
Asquani Lake and its Environs.
75
tonborough, and Centre Harbor, is a
splendid sheet of water, indented by
points, arched with coves, and stud-
ded with a succession of romantic
islands. It is about seven miles in
length, and where widest not less than
three miles in breadth. The surface
has been estimated at from 6,000 to
7,000 acres. The largest island is
about one mile long, and one third of
a mile wide. A communication by
water between this lake and Winui-
pesaukee might easily be effected, the
distance being less than two miles."
It is remarkable that though only
this distance apart, Lake Asquam lies
at an elevation of nearly fifty feet
above AYiunipesaukee, and is almost
five hundred and fifty feet above the
Atlantic ocean. Ossipee lake, which
has a more northern latitude, and the
same mountainous surroundings, has
not the altitude of either, being only
four hundred and eight feet above the
se.a level. The height of land be-
tween the two lakes is a picturesque
plateau, occupied by farm-houses and
the summer villas of wealthy people
from the cities. One of these ancient
sites has been made the subject of a
painting, and recently appeared in an
art exhibition in Boston under the
title of "A New England Farm
House." It is the old Sturtevant
place. The well on the farm is forty
feet deep, and is covered by a frame
house that is as antique as the old
farm-house itself.
Shepard hill, which rises directly at
our right hand as we enter i&reat
Squam, is one of the most charming
elevations in New Hampshire. It
rises to the height of one thousand
feet, perfect in shape, verdant crown-
ed, with farm-houses and several
fairy-like summer villas scattered
here and there. Capt. W. Bunce, of
the United States navy, has a pleas-
ant cottage on the slope of the hill,
and spends a portion of every sum-
mer in this fair retreat. The Asquam
House, a fine and commodious hotel
that will accommodate between seven-
ty-five and a hundred guests, crowns
the plateau of the summit. . Among
the guests this season have been
Bishop Williams, of New Haven, and
John G. AVhittier, the poet. The
latter usually spends several weeks
here each season. His poem, "The
Hill Top," written more than thirty
vears ago, if I mistake not, refers to
this hill. The poet is in error, how-
ever, when he speaks of seeing
"• Moosehillock's woods." That moun-
tain is not visible from Shepard hill.
It is Stinson mountain in Rumney
which he mistakes for Moosilauke.
The lines are just as beautiful though
as if he had not blundered :
"There towered Cbocorua's peak; and west
Moosehillock's woods were seen,
With many a nameless slide-scarred crest
And pine-dark gorge between.
" Beyond them, like a sun-rimmed cloud,
I'lie great Notch mountains shone,
Watched over by the solemn-browed
And awtul face of stone!"
The view is beautiful, whether seen
at morning, noon, or twilight hour,
looking outupon the wide expanse of
the lake, the meadow lands, the for-
ests, and upon mountains as delecta-
ble as those which Christian saw from
the palace Beautiful in Bunyan's
matchless allegory.
There is a convenient landing at
the foot of the hill, a romantic spot,
where the rhododendron grows, and
gaudv beds of the cardinal flower
fringe the shore. In fact, these plants
and flowers border the lake its whole
extent. Trees, shrubbery, and grass
76
Asqtiam Lake and its Environs.
come down quite to the water on all
sides, with hardly ever a strip of
beach. As we move down from the
wharf we disturb a heron, which rises
with a scream from his hiding-place
among the rushes, and flaps angularly
away. Loons are seen ever and anon
swimming on the surface of the lake ;
and overhead, soaring with pinions
stretching wide and eyes that meet
the sun, the American eagle holds his
flight through the upper ether.
The general lay of the lake is north-
east by south-west. The larger part
of the lake is in Holderness, but por-
tions of it extend into Ashland, Sand-
wich, Centre Harbor, and Moulton-
borough. Tlie three counties of
Grafton, Carroll, and Belknap come
to a point in the lake. Leaving Cot-
ton cove at our left, and the twin
peaks of Rattlesnake hill, we steam
out into the lake. Along the west-
ern horizon follow the Squam moun-
tains, terminating in Mount Israel,
the highest peak. Overlooking this
range, we catch at times the towering
crests of Mount Prospect and of
Sandwich Dome. At our right,
against the eastern sky, are the Red
Hills, 2,000 feet in height, terminating
in Colby hill, the lowest spur at the
north. Beyond we catch a glimpse
of Mount Ossipee, 2,-500 feet in
height, which lies ten miles away.
Both of these mountains are in Moul-
tonborough. Red hill derives its
name either from the beautiful sienite
which composes it, and which near
the summit, where the ledges are ex-
posed to the action of the air, has a
reddish hue, or to the forests of uv(v,
urfti which cover its sides, the leaves
of which are turned into a brilliant
red by the early frosts.
Heading toward the upper part of
the lake, the northern horizon bristles
with stony and wooded crests. The
hills and mountains crowd confusedly
upon each other to look into the clear
mirror of "Kusumpe pond." Yet
the}' seem tranquil and in repose,
and the whole atmosphere of that re-
gion is that of rest. The heights,
which when seen near at hand have
an alert and even savage aspect, like
the gashed forehead of Whiteface,
the sharp thorn of Chocorua, the un-
compromising granite of Tripyramid,
and the sullen bolt of Passaconaway,
are veiled in the violet haze of dis-
tance, which softens their rugged feat-
ures and puts them in harmony with
the peaceful scene they overlook.
One mountain, indeed, presents as
a symbol the type of peace. Fifteen
miles away, in Albany, rises the solid
granite mass of Mount Paugus, 3,000
feet in height. This mountain re-
minds us of the old Norse god, with
his stony heart. It is a huge pile of
rock, scaled over with forests. On
its side stands out a spur whose up-
per crest presents the perfect image
of a gigantic sheep's head : eye,
mouth, nose, ear, and forehead are
exact, and even the chest and back
of the animal are distinctly made out.
There it has stood for centuries, un-
changed, unmoved, symbol of the
Saviour of the world, a thing to have
been worshipped by the rude aborig-
ines, if they could, like the old Egyp-
tian, have seen any tiling of the deity
in th^ representation of so meek and
innocent a quadruped. It was only
a few weeks ago that this singular
formation was first noticed, but now
it is pointed out to everybody on the
lake, where it can be seen at almost
Asquam Lake and its Environs.
77
every point, and is one of tlie objects
of interest to the visitor in this sec-
tion.
The north-western extremity of the
lal<e tapers into a picturesque fiord,
from which it would not seem strange
to see issue half a dozen viking ships,
with their dragon or serpent prows,
and their rows of bucklers along the
gunwales. But it is onlv a fishing
craft that one sees there, and the oc-
cupants are trolling for land-locked
salmon, and have no thought of other
plunder. There is a finished look
along the shore. A regular wall of
rock has been laid along to mark the
limit of the water's encroachment, and
in some places this wall rises to a
height of a dozen or fifteen feet.
Huge ledges rise out of the water on
all sides, and only a narrow channel
is found sutticiently deep for the ad-
vance of the little steamer. All these
rocks and ledges are completely
honeycombed by the action of the
waves and the frost, and present a
singular appearance. Honeycomb
Cove, as it is appropriately called,
marks the opening of the fiord, and
Squaw Cove is the terminus, both of
which lie in Sandwich, under the
shadow of Squam mountain.
Squaw Cove derives its name from
the fact that formerly there stood
upon one of the ledges of the cove a
block of granite that bore a strong
resemblance to the draped figure of a
woman. A few years ago the statue
was taken away, and the stone squaw
now lies prostrate, broken in twain in
the front yard of a farm-house at
East Holderness. The aborigines
had a legend for everything wliich
they could not account for in any other
way, and while the sunshine gleams
on the ripples of the cove, and the
Chelmsford lies at anchor, and the
skipper smokes, and even the buoyant
colonel checks his jokes and puns, we
will recount the Legend of the Stone
Squaw.
A long time ago, when only the
Indians — the true children of the
soil — inhabited this country, there
lived a chieftain whose wigwam stood
on the shore of this cove, far up un-
der the beeches of the hill. His
name was Mamon. He was old and
wise, and his fame as a warrior was
great among all the surrounding
tribes. The wife of his youth had
long been dead, and the sachem as
he grew older longed to have his wig-
wam brightened once more by the
presence of a woman. There were
many maidens in his own tribe who
would have rejoiced to become the
bride of Mamon, but he had no love
for them. Across the lake, where
the pines and the elms grew together
along the course of Asquam chemuke,
there lived a maiden whom he had
seen, and whom he loved.
The princess Amata was young
and beautiful. She had the grace of
a mountain deer, and the skill of a
wise woman in concocting dishes for
the woodland feast ; and she and the
young warrior Moowis loved each
other ; — but the proud chief, her father,
had set his heart on wedding her to
Mamon, his friend and ally. So the
banquet fires were kindled, and Ma-
mon rowed across the lake with his
choicest warriors, to sit at the feast
and wed the fair princess whom his
heart loved.
Grand was the feasting among the
braves, and lithesome the dances of
the duskv Indian women, and among
78
Asquam Lake and its Environs.
them all none looked so grand and
stately as Marnon, and none of the
maidens were like Amata, whose
form was like the river willow, and
her eyes like stars, and her hair lus-
trous and glistening as the flash of
the waterfall in the sunshine. But
Moowis, the young brave, was not at
the banquet : his heart was too heavy,
and his grief too great.
The full moon shone over the lake
whenMamon returned with his bride.
His heart was ver}' happy, but Araa-
ta's face was sad, and the tears
twinkled in her soft, dark eyes. He
thought she wept because she left the
home of her childhood, but it was
because her heart was with the absent
young warrior, Moowis. Through
all the night hours she prayed that
the warrior she loved might come to
see her once more.
In his wigwam, on a couch of sweet
fern and beech leaves, the old chief
slept the sleep of the aged, and by
his side tossed the sleepless Amata.
The curtains of the lodge flapped in
the breeze, and she knew no one
was near until a hand touched her
forehead, and the voice of her lover
whispered in her ear :
"•I have come. My canoe dances
on the lake, and the night is dark.
My beloved, shall I go away with my
heart sad and my arms empty?"
"No, Moowis, I go with thee, be-
cause my heart cleaveth to thee. It
is only for you that I wish to prepare
the fresh killed game, sweep the
hearth with fresh hemlock boughs,
and embroider moccasins to adorn
your feet. But it is so black and
stormy, it may be the Manitou is
angry, and 3'ou know the fate that
befalls the false wife if she is caught."
"Thou wert mine ere thou became
his. My arms are strong, my arrows
sure, my canoe staunch, yet light as
a feather, and I love you. Come,
O Amata."
His voice was sweet and musical
as the ripple of running water over a
mossy ledge in the hot summer noon,
and her heart answered to his. And
she stole out of the wigwam into the
darkness and the storm, and the
two lovers hastened down to the
shore where his birch canoe was wait-
ing. But as they fled the sagamore
awoke, and by the gleam of the light-
ning caught a glance of the flying
fugitives. Wrathful was the heart of
Mamou as he saw the arm of a
stranger around his bride, and her
long, dark hair flowing over his shoul-
ders. And he cauo;ht his strong bow
and his quiver and rushed in pur-
suit.
Strong were the arms of Moowis
and brave was his heart, but the
heart of Amata was weak and waxed
faint as water as she heard the stern
voice of the sagamore through the
tempest. And the storm grew yet
wilder ; the lightning flashed and the
thunder rolled ; the water came rush-
ing down the mountain sides in tor-
rents, and huge trees in the forest
fell crashing to the ground.
"Oh! I cannot fly farther," cried
Amata breathlessly. "Gitchie Man-
itou is angry with his child."
"If you love me, follow," cried the
young warrior, and he seized her in
his arms and bore her into the water.
Mamon arrived at the shore, and
seeing by a flash of lightning the
figures struggliug in the water, dis-
charged his shaft. A loud cry es-
caped the lips of Moowis, the water
Asquam Lake and its Environs. *jq
grew crimson around him, and he We return by the other side of the
sank with a despairing wail in the lake, and the most remarkable thing
mad waves. Amata reached a ledge, we notice is the changed asi)ect of
and struggling upon the rock, stretched the mountains, as we view them from
forth her round arms towards the different points. Only a very expert
shore. Appalachian can sling names around
''May the lightning blast the fair, the whole bristling horizon. But that
false wanton," cried Maraon, — pray- is Kearsarge's historic peak we dis-
ing, "Let Manitou make of her a cern in the far south, beyond a doubt,
signal and example to coming time." That bald granite crown is unmis-
Even as he spoke there came a takable anywhere. A breeze springs
vivid flash, followed by a thunder up, and it grows cool. We are glad
peal that seemed to shake the earth we brought our summer overcoats
to its very centre, and through the with us. The nights are uniformly
storm and darkness pierced the shrill cool around the lake, although the
voice of despair. Manitou had an- middle of the day may be compara-
swered the chieftain's prayer. tively hot. Up there nothing is
For ages and ages the Indian, known practically of the heat as it is
roaming around the lake pointed to felt in the great cities. Blankets are
the stone image as the form of the not to be despised at night, and
hapless Araata, petrified by God's woollen clothing cannot long be dis-
judgraent in her wanton flight, and pensed with. For perfect beauty and
there it remained till the white men healthfulness there are few places so
came. Such is the story of the stone richly endowed. Everv day affords
squaw and of Squaw cove. a feast for the eye and the soul.
Once more on the lake ; — how beau- Though eventless in one sense, our
tiful the scene ! Did you ever see lives are crowded with events. It is
more fairy-like islands, more enchant- our business to see what the sun and
ing coves? Lovely is the lake now, wind and cloud are about, and to
hemmed in by the green hills and watch every change about the lake
woodlands ; but when the tints of and the mountains. All the tweut}'-
autumn flush the wooded islands and four hours of each day are good and
the main land, and when sunrises and precious. With the poet we can
sunsets perform the daily miracle of say, —
turning these pellucid waters into ,,^. „ .it-,
o I u Linger, O gentle Time !
wine, then the purple bloom of the Linger, O radiant grace of bright to-day!
mountains frames a revel of color Let not the hour's chime
Call thee away,
that is bewildering in its beauty. But linger near me still with fond delay!"
8o
Book Notices.
ANNOUNCEMENT OF
Ben : Perley Poore's Book.
Sixty years of a busy journalist's
life at Washington are epitomized in
Maj. Ben : Perley Poore's two superb
volumes. One of the admirers of the
Major recently said that " at a ju-
diciously ripe period of life the Major
stopped growing- old, and since then,
like some of the choice Madeira of
which he writes with so much feeling,
he has only been accumulating bouquet
and flavor." Maj. Poore has been
one of the best known and one of the
most knowing men in Washington
society for a half a century. His is
the sunny temperament delighting in
bright, social interconi'se. Yet his
connection with daih' journalism and
his position in the U. S. Senate
placed him always in the thick of
political affairs and social gossip.
He was ever in the Washington
" Swim," breasting the waves with
jovial vigor, and never failing to
hear or see what was said and done.
The Major could never be very sol-
emn, and in his ripened sketches of
Washington life every phase reminds
him of half a dozen amusing anec-
dotes. He has a rare gift in telling
a story, and his anecdotes are inex-
haustible.
His book will not only add lustre
to his fame as a writer, but it is of so
unique a cliaracter and so intensely
interesting in matter that it will prove
a valuable contribution to the litera-
ture of the country. It lias mirth
for the mirthful, wit for the witty,
information for all, and we doubt if
it has been equalled by any subscrip-
tion book since the war.
It is being issued by the well
known house of Hubbard Bros., and
is sold exclusively by subscription.
The Mentor, a little book for the
guidance of such men and boys as
would appear to advantage in the so-
ciety of persons of the better sort,
by Alfred Ayres, published by Funk
& Wagnalls, is full of good sense,
good advice, and wise counsel. It
would not come amiss in the hands
of any young man who is striving to
be a gentleman.
The History of Sanbornton.
which by many is considered the most
perfect model for similar works, is in
two volumes, aggregating about 1600
pages. It can be obtained of the au-
thor for $5.00. He has a few copies
deficient in plates, for S4.00. In cor-
responding with him, please mention
this magazine. His address is Rev.
M. T. Runnels, East Jaffrey, N. H.
An Unfortunate Woman and Ars'
Ya, by Ivan Turgenieff, a Russian
writer of great force and originality,
has lately been published by Funk &
Wagnalls.
From Messrs. Harper & Brothers,
New York, we have received the fol-
lowing of Harper's Handy Series :
Regimental Legends — by John
Strange Winter, author of '' Mignon ;
or, Bootle's Baby." 16mo, 25 cts.
A Child of the Revolution — an in-
teresting French novel. Illustrated.
16 mo, 25 cts.
A Strange Inheritance — a novel by
F. M. F. Skene. 16mo, 25c.
Locksley Hall, Sixty Years After
— etc., by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
16rao, 25 cts.
Yeast, a Problem — by Chas. Kings-
ley, author of "Alton Locke," " Hy-
patia," etc. 16mo, 25 cts.
Of the Franklin Square Library,
we have received :
No. 556. A Wilful Young Woman
— a novel, by "Who is Sylvia?" 25
cts.
No. 557. The World Went Very
Well Then — a novel, by Walter Be-
sant. Profusely illustrated. 25 cts.
No. 558. She ; a History of Ad-
venture — by H. Rider Haggard, au-
thor of " Solomon's Mines." Pro-
fusely illustrated. 25 cts.
THE
RANITE neNTHLY.
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
TDevoted to Literature, biography, History, and State Progress.
Vol. X.
MARCH, 1887,
No. 3,
HON. ARETAS BLOOD.
When, in the early part of the
eighteenth century, a few hardy pio-
neers gathered about Amoskeag falls
to found a settlement in the wilder-
ness, they were prepared to wrest a
livelihood from the sterile soil, and
defend their possessions and families
from Indian marauders. It was a
frontier settlement, greatly exposed
to attack, but it was shunned by the
dusky warriors, who dreaded the
prowess and the unerring aim of the
new comers. The men at the falls
carried the war into Canada, and in
return for early Indian atrocities the
Rangers retaliated with sword and
fire-brand in distant savage fast-
nesses. Though stern and warlike
and aggressive, these children of
Scotch Covenanters and Massachu-
setts Puritans were law-abiding and
God-fearing men and women. There
were Goffe, Hildreth, Kidder, McNeil,
Stark, Hadley, Stevens, Martin, Em-
erson, Perham, Blodgett, Nutt, Ri-
dell, McMurphy, Hall, McClintock,
Dickey, Gamble, Anderson, Leslie,
whose descendants have left an im-
press on state and national history.
While using Amoskeag falls for fish-
ing for shad, for salmon, and for
lamprey-eels, the most sanguine of
those early settlers in his wildest
dreams could not have pictured the
fair city of Manchester, with its tens
of thousands of busy artisans, which
the future was to uprear on the banks
of the Merrimack river.
In the early part of the present cen-
tury, when this continent had received
the impetus of freedom, and the peo-
ple were surging onward to occupy
our vast domain, the highest honors
and the richest rewards lay in politi-
cal preferment. The greatest intel-
lects were devoted to law, to states-
manship, or to politics. Ship-build-
ing and foreign commerce offered a
field for the energies of the most ad-
venturous. Agriculture was the great
occupation of the American people.
The giowth of the cities, centres of
commerce and government, was slow
and gradual. The advent of the rail-
road was the dawn of a new era in
the history of the world. Steam had
already been utilized for ocean travel,
but the locomotive was destined to
82
Hon. Aretas Blood.
revolutionize human destiny. It au-
uihilated distance ; it brought the
products of mill and farm to points
of distribution ; it put the vast inte-
rior of our country in connection with
our sea-board ; it united the North
and the South, the East and the
West, in an imperishable union ; it
made possible the rapid growth of
our great cities. It vastly increased
human wants and necessities, and
opened up a thousand channels for
the energy and work of mankind.
After the railroad came electricity,
commerce and manufacturing on a
gigantic scale, mines, banking, insur-
ance, and the complicated business of
a great nation, in which large for-
tunes could be accumulated. From
farm and college hall the brightest
minds and keenest intellects have
been drawn to the counting-house,
the machine-shop, and the railroad
office.
The highest elevations in rank, in
honor, and in emolument have been
gained by self-made men. By their
skill and ability great enterprises
have been started and successfully
carried on, and their labors have been
appreciated and rewarded. A self-
made man, honored, respected, and
successful, is the subject of this
sketch, — Hon. Aretas Blood, of Man-
chester, — a man whose name will ever
be inseparably connected with the de-
velopment of the massive locomotive
in use to-day, and with the inception
and growth of the railroad system of
the United States.
ANCESTRY.
The Blood family is one of the old-
est in New England. Tiie original
pioneer, the ancestor of most of the
name in this country, was James
Blood, said to have been a brother of
Col. John Blood, known in English
historv for his designs on Charles II.
James Blood and his wife Ellen came
from Paddington, Nottingham coun-
ty, England, and settled in Concord,
Mass., as early as 1639. He had a
great estate, and died November 17,
1683. His wife Ellen died in 1674.
2. Richard Blood, son of James
and Ellen Blood, was one of the first
settlers and largest proprietors of
Groton. He was town-clerk in 1668.
His wife's name was Isabel.
3. James Blood, son of Richard
and Isabel Blood, lived in Groton.
He married (1) Elizabeth Longley,
September 7, 1669 ; (2) Abigail. He
was killed by the Indians September
13 (or October 13), 1692.
4. John Blood, son of James and
Abigail Blood, was born in Groton,
March 16, 1689; married July 13,
1712, Joanna Nutting, of Groton;
settled in his native town, and died
August 23, 1758, in the 70th year of
his age.
5. Moses Blood, son of John and
Joanna (Nutting) Blood, was born
in Groton, November 25, 1724; set-
tled in Pepperell ; married Elizabeth
vStone, June, 27 1745 ; and died in
Pepperell.
6. Sewall Blood, sou of Moses and
Elizabeth (Stone) Blood, was born
in Pepperell, May 24, 1756 ; married
Molly Kendall, of Shirley, April 9,
1786 ; and was a soldier of the Revo-
lution. He died in Windsor, Vt., in
1813; his widow in 1814.
7. Nathaniel Blood, son of'Sewall
and Mary (Kendall) Blood, was born
in Shirley, August 17, 1788; mar-
ried Roxellana Proctor, a daughter
Ho7i. Aretas Blood.
83
of Isaac Proctor, a soldier of the
Revolution, and settled in Windsor,
Vt. He died in Waltham, Mass., in
1876; she died in 1865. Both were
active members of the Congreofational
church.
8. Aretas Blood, son of Nathaniel
and RoxellUua (Proctor) Blood, was
born in Weathersfield, Vt., October
8, 1816.
It will be seen by the foreafoinsr
line of ancestors that Mr. Blood is a
direct descendant of those sturdy
Puritans who in the old country
maintained their rights by force of
arms, and planted a colony here on
the bleak shores of New PLngland to
obtain religious toleration. They had
to defend their homes from a cruel
and treacherous foe, and later to
withstand the encroachments of a ty-
ranical government across the ocean.
Their courage and foresight laid the
foundations of our free and beautiful
New England of to-day. They gave
to us the school, the church, the
town-meeting, — the basis of our pros-
perity. We are also indebted to
them for sound and health}^ bodies,
and minds relieved from superstition
and ignorance. From his ancestors
Mr. Blood inherited man}' sterling
qualities, — good judgment, sound
common-sense, executive ability of a
very high order, courage to undertake
herculean tasks, the perseverance to
conduct them to a successful termi-
nation, and the requisite caution to
keep him from embarking in any save
safe enterprises.
When Aretas Blood was three years
old his parents removed to Windsor,
Vt., where he remained until seven-
teen years of age, improving the
meagre advantages afforded by the
common schools of those days. He
was then apprenticed to the trade of
blacksmith, which he worked at about
two years and a half, and then be-
came a machinist. In 18-10 he jour-
neyed to Evansville, Ind., where he
worked at his trade until June 17,
1841, when he started eastward in
search of employment. He travelled
on, however, still in quest of work,
and it was not until he reached North
Chelmsford, Mass., that he found
employment for his ready and willins:
hands. After remaining there a short
time, he subsequently went to Lowell
as a machinist in the Lowell Machine-
shop. Here he remained seven years,
and then went to Lawrence, where he
commenced the manufacture of ma-
chinists' tools for the large machine-
shop then in process of erection at
that place. Here the character of
the man asserted itself. His ability
demanded greater scope, and soon
after he assumed the management of
the establishment there, and began
the manufacture, by contract, of
tools, turbine-wheels, locomotives,
stationary engines, and other ma-
chinery. His untiring energy had at
last found its reward : he was mas-
ter of the business. September 7,
1853, he went to Manchester and es-
tablished the Vulcan Works, under
the name of Bailey, Blood & Co.,
for the manufacture of locomotives.
Business was first commenced in Me-
chanics' row, but in the spring of
1854 buildings were erected on the
present location, and in the same
year the com pan}' was incorporated
as the Manchester Locomotive Works,
with Oliver W. Bailey as agent. He
was succeeded in 1857 by Mr. Blood,
who has since resided in Manchester,
84
Hon. Aretas Blood.
and has given his personal super-
vision to the business.
The Locomotive Works are located
on Canal street, and cover about six
acres. The machine-shop is a sub-
stantial building, parallel with Canal
street, two stories in height, 430 feet
in length, and 84 in width. The
wood-shop is also a two-story build-
ing, 100 feet long and 40 feet wide ;
the blacksmith-shop is 365 feet long
and 50 feet wide ; the boiler-shop,
205 feet long and 52 feet wide. There
is also a large brick building, 230 by
36 feet, for making brass castings
and building steam fire-engines. In
the spring of 1872, Mr. Blood pur-
chased the steam fire-engine business
of the Amoskeag Company, with the
good-will and the patents, and now
manufactures the "Amoskeag P2n-
gine," which is the old engine in
name only, as it has been entirely re-
modelled, and is now one of the most
complete, perfect, and efficient en-
gines manufactured. There are now
over 650 of these engines in use.
Here are also built all kinds of hose
carriages, fire apparatus, &c. A grad-
uate of this machine shop — Mr. Blod-
gett — has lately been elected by the
New Jersey legislature to represent
that state in the United States sen-
ate.
Mr. Blood has proved one of the
most successful locomotive builders
in the country, 1,330 having been
turned out at these works. The
worivs have a capacity of giving
employment to 700 skilled work-
men, and of turning out 150 locomo-
tives and 50 steam fire-engines every
year. The monthly pay-roll ranges
from 330,000 upwards. The aggre-
gate earnings of the works during
its most successful year amounted to
$2,500,000. A thorough machinist,
and a man capable of handling a
large force of men and conducting
large business operations, he has
commanded success, and the Man-
chester Locomotive Works are one of
the representative institutions of
manufacturing New England.
Whatever success in life Mr. Blood
has achieved he attributes to the
teachings and training received at
home from his mother. When he
left the parental roof he tried to fol-
low the advice of his mother : " Shun
bad company ; try to please your
employers." He tried to please his
employers by showing an interest in
his work, and succeeded in doing so.
Evenings he not only improved by
keeping out of doubtful company,
but by study in his own room, often
working until midnight, drawing plans
of the machinery he was at work on
during the day, and thus improving
his time. He was faithful to the
interests of those who employed him,
and did not need some one to watch
him. For the many years he was
an employe he won the confidence
of his employer by interest in his
work, faithfulness, industry, and hon-
esty, as well as by his intelligence
and zeal, and when he in time became
an employer of labor himself, these
qualities were recognized by those in
need of his services. Another char-
acteristic of Mr. Blood, which has
helped him to achieve success, is his
perseverance. This led him to stick
to whatever he undertook to do until
he had done it, in small tilings as
well as in more important under-
takings.
Mr. Blood is also a director and
Hon. Aretas Blood.
85
president of the Ames Manufacturing
Company of Cliicopee, Mass., i)fesi-
dent of the Globe Nail Company of
Boston, and treasurer of the Nashua
Iron and Steel Company, which is
doinsc the largest business of its kind
in New England. He was a director
in the Merrimack River Bank from
18G0 till its name was changed to
First National Bank in 1865, and un-
til 1868 a director of the latter ; was
a director in the Manchester National
Bank from 1874 till 1877, and from
1877 to the present time has been
president of the Second National
Bank. He is treasurer of the Man-
chester Hardware Company, and also
president of the Amoskeag Paper
Mills, both of Manchester.
Mr. Blood was united in marriage
with Miss Lavinia K. Kendall, Sep-
tember 4, 1845, and their family con-
sists of two children, — Nora, wife of
Frank P. Carpenter, of Manchester,
and Emma, who resides with her
parents.
Politically Mr. Blood is a Republi-
can. His first vote was cast for Gen.
Harrison, but he has been a Repub-
lican since the organization of the
party, although never an active poli-
tician. He has been twice elected an
alderman, and was chairman of the
electors who cast New Hampshire's
vote for Garfield and Arthur.
It was said, when Robert E.
Lee joined the Southern Confed-
eracy, that he was equal to an
army corps to their cause. When
Mr. Blood took up his abode in Man-
chester he was a great accession to
the young city. He had the gift of
executive ability which allowed him
to organize a great undertaking, and
for many years to make it successful.
His own experience when in search
of work has made him considerate to
those under similar circumstances.
If he is apparently entirely absorbed
iu his business, it should be remem-
bered that he has resting on his shoul-
ders the care of a great enterprise,
and that the welfare of many people
depends upon his good judgment.
Mr. Blood has evinced considerable
inventive faculty in the prosecution
of his work, and many valuable im-
provements are due to him. He is
quick to see the advantages offered
by new inventions, yet conservative.
Personally he enjoys rugged, good
health. He is a quiet man, thorough-
ly honest, and demanding honesty in
all with whom he deals. True to his
own word, he expects rigid truth
from others. He enjoys the pleas-
ures of home, and is very fond of his
family. The family attend the Frank-
lin Street Congregational church.
Charity is delegated to the ladies of
the household. Such a man as Mr.
Blood is of inestimable advantage to
the community in which he may
settle.
86
Windham^ N. H.
WINDHAM, NEW HAMPSHIRE.*
By Hon. LEONARD A. MORRISON, Author of " History of Morrison Fam-
ily," "History of Windham," and "Rambles in Europe."
The Revolution was here. The while they did not court danger, still
crisis was now upon them. The col- they shrank not from it when the
onies had passed successfully through trial came. They knew their strength,
the French and Indian War, and the and were not afraid to use it. They
waves of that long and stubborn con- were ever true in the hour of peace
test had hardly lulled themselves to and quiet ; they were steady and true
rest before the ominous mutterings in the storm and tempest,
of another tempest were distinctly A company of minute men was
heard. Every breeze which swept formed, and when swift couriers ar-
the Atlantic brought to the ears of rived in town bringing the news of
Americans the approaching danger, the Lexington alarm and shouting at
The hour was at hand which was to every house, " The Regulars are corn-
prove the mettle of the people, and ing ! The Regulars are coming !" the
which would show the stern grit of "minute men" rallied as men flock
our citizens. to a feast. Capt. Joseph Clyde
The provincial records, state rec- was plowing in the field ; he left his
ords, traditions and records of the plow-share in the mould, headed his
town, bear ample testimony to the company, and marched rapidly to
faithfulness, fidelity, courage, endur- Cambridge and joined the American
ance, and constancy of the people of forces there. The good housewives,
Windham during the long and trying the mothers, sisters, and sweethearts
ordeal. There is no evidence to of the men, cooked a large amount of
show that her sons were appalled at provisions, and despatched them im-
the magnitude of the contest, that mediately on the backs of horses for
they grieved over the sacrifices de- the soldiers.
manded, or that its dangers caused The following men enlisted imme-
their hearts to be moved with unman- diately after the "alarm:" James
ly fear. They weighed the issues in Caldwell, Samuel Caldwell, John
the intellectual balances of their Caldwell, Nathaniel Barrows,
minds, and were prepared to meet May 2.5, 1775, Lieut. John Dins-
the dangers which their conclusion moor was sent a delesate to the
involved. And tiiey did not look County Congress,
upon war with the alarm of those not The Committee of Safety were, —
enured to the use of arms. They George Davidson, Peter Merrill, Rob-
were soldiers by their mode of life in ert Hemphill, Samuel Morison, Jo-
the new settlement, and had had seph Smitli, Jolni Dinsmoor, James
great military experience in previous Gilmore, Nehemiah Hadley, and Will-
wars, and were accustomed to the iam Campbell.
use of arms. They were men of June 17, 1775, the Battle of Bunker
nerve, hardihood, and skill, and Hill was fought, the cannonading
*Precodiug articles relating to this town were printed in the Gramitk Monthly in 1884.
Windham, N. H,
«7
being distinctly licartl in Windliam,
thirty-tliree miles away. Her sons
jningled in the deadly fray, and some
sealed their devotion to American
liberty and the rights of man with
their blood. Tradition says that five
of our soldiers were slain, but the
name of only one — Thomas Collins —
has come down to us.
The following men were in the
fight : John Kincaid, William Duty,
Joseph Park, John Montgomery,
John Simpson (who had a part of
his hand shot away), William Simp-
son, Ephraim Kyle, Lieut. Abraham
Reid, Alexander Brown, James Gil-
man, Allen Hopkins, John Hopkins,
P^benezer Mcllvaine, Thomas Wilson,
William Clvde, David Gregg.
The following men were in the
Continental service July 8, 1775:
William Duty, Charles Annis, Mark
Duty, Alexander Brown, John Jame-
son, Abram Planet, Jacob Hadley,
Jonathan Thompson, John Kinkead,
William Mcllvaine.
The legislation of the town was
patriotic. It was always in favor of
the patriots. Their quotas of men
and money were usually promptly
furnished, and when a few wished to
be freed from the soldier rates, they
promptly voted not to excuse them.
The following persons signed the
Association test, which was virtually
a declaration of independence :
SIGNERS IN WINDHAM.
Hugh Graham, Jr.,
William Gregg, Jr.,
Alex'r McCoy,
John Campbell,
Henry Campbell,
Robert Park,
David GregfT,
William Gregg,
David Gregg, Jr.,
Thomas Gregg,
James Campbell,
Jeffrey Donougli,
James Gilmore,
James Jameson,
George Wilson,
Moses Duty,
James Dinsmoor,
William Dickey,
Andrew Park,
Alex'r Park,
William Thom,
Timothy Ladd,
Arthur Darrah,
Timothy Ladd, Jr.,
Alex. Gregg,
Eliphalet Ladd,
William Dinsmoor,
Andrew Armour,
John Cochran, Jr.,
Robert Speer,
Ale'x'r Simpson,
Alex'r Richoy,
John Jlorison,
David Davidson,
Adam Templeton,
Nchemiah Hadley,
Nath'l Campbell,
Alex'r Wilson,
Allen Hopkins,
Hugh Brown,
Thomas Wilson,
James Caldwell,
Daniel Mcllvaine,
David Currier,
George Davidson,
David Armstrong,
James Bolton,
John Armstrong,
John Anderson,
Samuel Wilson,
Joseph Clyde,
Ebenzor Hall,
John Dinsmoor,
John Kyle,
John Simpson,
Hugh Clyde,
William Simpson,
John Wilson,
Samuel McAdams,
Simon Williams,
Isaac Thom,
Peter Merrill,
Benjamin Thom,
Peter Merrill, Jr.,
Robert Mcllvaine,
James Wilson,
John Clyde,
Alex'r Richey,
Alex'r Park,
Hugh Graham,
Joseph Smith,
John McCoy,
James Richey,
Thomas McCoy,
Alex'r Morrow,
James Davidson,
John Cochran,
Samuel Campbell,
James Cochran,
William Shed,
Robert Dinsmoor,
Henry Campbell, '
William Rowell,
Nathaniel Hemphill
William Jameson,
Rob't Hemphill,
Isaac Cochran,
Gawin Armour,
Thomas Jameson,
John Morrow,
David Hopkins,
John Miller.
Robert Smith,
State of New Hampshire
Windham Aug. the 26th 1776.
To the Honorable Committee of
.Safty of this State the foregoing
Request hath been Punctually ob-
served. Notwithstanding Lent Abram
Reid, Matthew Reid, Amos Merrill,
hath Refused or Neglected to sign
the foregoing Declaration.
Alex'r Wilson, \
Sam'l Morison, \ Selectmen.
Nehemiah Hadley, )
On the 1st of December, 1775,
Gen. Sullivan, in command at Win-
ter Hill, sent an urgent request to
New Hampshire for troops, to take
the place of some Connecticut troops
whose term of service had expired.
Eleven Windham men rallied at tiiis
call. Among them wereCapt. James
88
Windham, N. H.
Gilmore, John Moiison, Samuel Mori-
son, Isaac Cochran, Robert Dins-
moor (the "Rustic Bard"), his uncle,
Robert Dinsmoor, Abram Planet,
Hadley, and Thomas Gregg.
During the whole war our men
shared in the joys of the army's tri-
umphs or in the sadness of its de-
feats. Fourteen men from Windham
were in the Battle of Bennington, —
Jolin Campbell, Samuel Campbell,
John Stuart, John Hughes, David
Gregg, Samuel Morison, Ephraim
Kyle, Alexander Morrow, David
Campbell, John Kinkead, John Jame-
son, Jesse Davidson, James Wilson,
Tiiomas Karr, William Bolton. In
the battle David Gregg had a thumb
shot off ; Samuel Morison suffered se-
verely from sunstroke ; James Wilson
was taken prisoner b}' a British sol-
dier, and he in turn took his captor
captive ; John Kinkead was killed.
His sad fate, and other incidents of
the battle, have been put in verse, as
follows, by the "Rustic Bard," Rob-
ert Dinsmoor :
WINDHAM'8 SONS AT THE BATTLE OF BENNINO-
TON, AUG. 16, 1777.
•'Then \\\\\\ Biirgoyne they battle join,
There Windham men, placed in the van,
Where deadly balls did rattle!
Fell .John Kinkead, on grand parade,
A soldier brave in battle.
"Jem Wilson stood behind some wood,
A Windham man true-hearted,
Who never ran lor fear of man.
Nor left his post deserted.
With joyful eye he saw them fly,
Their warriors all retreating;
As they withdrew, Stark's men pursue,
And"fear no foeman meeting.
" 'T was hard to know a friend from foe
In such promiscuous bustle.
But one .Jem met who him besot.
With whom he had a tussle!
He fired bis gun, nor thought to run
(His foe looked somewhat slender);
The Briton brave then drew his glave,
Said ' Die, or else surrender!'
' He, choosing terms, threw down his arms,
And begged his life's protection;
Then slowly crept, and lingering stept,
A captive in dejection.
But soon Jem spi ung, and round him clung, •
With arms and all belayed him;
In deadly grasp he held him fast
Till our pursuers aid him.
'To save his breath, most squeezed to death.
Aloud he called for quarter;
Then Jem, right glad, him captive led :
The Briton ' caught a Tartar.'
Then glorious Stark cried, 'Brave boys, bark!
Uo to your tents renowned ;
The evening lowers, and victory 's ours;
Your feat of valor 's crowned.' •'
AVhen our soldiers returned from
the battle they were welcomed by the
citizens, and the "Rustic Bard" had
a poem to commemorate the event.
The muse's voice has long been silent,
and patriotic verse no longer ema-
nates from his pen. The soldiers go
no more forth to battle, nor are they
troubled by war's alarms. Soldiers
and poet sleep their last sleep, and
gently the sods cover them.
The success at Bennington was the
harbinger of a brighter day. The
auspicious morning was at hand when
England would be compelled to ac-
cord justice to America. The gal-
lant sons of the old Granite State
rallied to join the Northern army.
The British commander was effectual-
ly "bottled up," and on the 17th of
October, 1777, Burgoyue surrendered
to Gen. Gates. Windham men helped
to swell the ranks of the patriot array,
participated in the battles, and shared
in the glorv of the victories. Among
them were Isaac Cochran, James Da-
vidson, P^liphalet Ladd, Robert Dins-
moor ("Rustic Bard"), William Mc-
Coy, John Campbell, Alexander
Gregg, John Cochran, John Armor,
Alexander Simpson, John Dinsmoor,
Daniel Mcllvaine, John Williams,
Ethel Freeman .
89
Adam Diinhip, John McCoy, David
Qniiitin, and William McKeen.
So the record might be swelled
wiUi the names of our soldiers, their
valor, and the war legislation of the
town ; but the want of space forbids,
and all these will be found in the full
•'History of Windham, N. H.," de-
voted to such details.
Suffice it to say that the record of
our soldiers was valiant ; the legisla-
tion of the town pr(5mpt, energetic,
and patriotic ; the enthusiasm and
self-sacriflce of our people, under all
the privations of war, were worthy of
all honor.
ETHEL FREEMAN:
T//e Story of a Alarriage that proved a Mistake.
By Ellex M. Mason.
I.
"No, father, I do not want Ethel
to marry George Freeman. There is
too much difference in their ages, in
the first place. He is fifteen years
older than she is in years, and twen-
ty-five in knowledge of the wicked-
ness of the world, hardening of the
heart, and loss of the enjoyment
of things innocent and simple that
belong to youth, to those of Ethel's
age. Then he is tyrannical and over-
bearing in disposition, and he is fickle
like the whole of them. There never
was a Freeman you could rely on !"
and Mrs. Reed's white curls and pur-
ple cap-ribbons fluttered more and
more disapprovingly as she went on.
••But you look only at the senti-
mental side of the question," said
Ethel's father, a stout, handsome
gentleman, whose calm manners and
deliberate utterances were in decided
contrast to his wife's impulsive ways.
"George Freeman is rich; he can
give Ethel a comfortable home, and
she need never want for anything.
He sowed his wild oats long ago, —
a large enough crop to last his life-
time, — and is ready now to settle
down, a sober, contented husband.
Then Ethel is in love with him, and
he is in love with her. Could there
be a clearer case? Do be reasonable
now, and don't let your romantic
notions run away with you !"
" Ethel is very 3'oung. If she cares
for him, better for her to suffer a lit-
tle now than to be wretched a life-
time. For she would be wretched.
His love for her is only a fancy, that
would pass away just as surely if she
married him as though she did not.
' Like father, like son.' George
Freeman is inconstant and treacher-
ous, as his father was before him,"
said the lady, and a faint blush rose
over her faded cheeks, and a pained
look came into her eyes as she spoke.
Mrs. Reed's youth had been dark-
ened by the faithlessness of the father
of the man who was the subject of
their conversation. At middle age
she had married her husband, and
they had been very happy together.
His calm, sure aft'ection, which if it
90
Ethel Freeman.
held none of the romance of youth,
had none of its ficklenesss, brlo-hten-
ing and making all her life pleasant.
Ethel was their only child, the darling
of their old age. The mother, es-
pecially, loved her with an intensity
of feeling she had never felt for any
being beside. And it had certainly
been an advantage, and a guaranty of
mutual respect and confidence, that
Ethel had not made her dehxd in so-
ciety until after her mother had
become desirably attached to her
easy-chair and slippers, and weaned
from fashionable follies and the love
of the applause of the multitude.
The unusually great disparity in the
ages of mother and daughter had
spared Mrs. Reed the humiliating dis-
content of a brilliant woman become
a little passee at the social successes
and triumphs of a beautiful daughter.
And who in society has not seen the
pitiable and belittling struggle be-
tween maternal gratification and un-
natural envy of a daughter's bright
youth and youth's delights? And
yet the envy seems natural enough to
some natures ; to those for whom the
years have only rubbed off the bloom
and beautiful illusions of life, instead
of developing, ripening, and sweeten-
ing the character. It is bitter hard
for such a woman, once a belle and
fed on flattery till it has become as
her daily bread, to resign her belle-
dom ; and that her successor, whom
she must in one sense at least regard
as a rival, comes into her kingdom
by virtue of lineal descent, makes
her abdication only a trifle less bit-
ter.
Mrs., Reed had enjoyed Ethel's
conquests as though they had been
her own, — in fact, more than she ever
did her own, for the reason that the
whole interest of her girlhood had
been absorbed in the ill-starred love
affair whose memory had cast a
shadow — invisible to others and dim
to herself, 't is true, but still a shad-
ow — over her after life. " I have had
my day, Ethel," she would say ;
" now I want to see you enjoy yours.
Make the most of your heyday while
it lasts, — your parties, your lovers, and
of all the admiration and flattery, —
only do not allow your head to be
turned. One of these days you will
lose it all, and be a thrifty housewife,
a prudent wife, and an anxious moth-
er. So have all the pleasure you can
while you can."
The effect of this delectable but
unorthodox advice had been to beget
the closest confidence. Mrs. Reed
had been cognizant of the beginning
and progress of every one of Ethel's
affaires du coeur, from the time of
the chubby little boys in pinafores,
who sacrificed molasses candy and
peanuts on the altars of their loves,
to that of the appearance of an ap-
prehensible husband.
Against George Freeman she had
steadily set her face from the first.
She read him pretty well, though
where a kindlier observer might have
discovered pleasant possibilities and
likely happy developments by read-
ing between the lines, she was short-
sighted, or saw nothing at all. Most
people would have agreed with lier
that Freeman was not the match for
her daughter, but few would have
considered him a wholly undesirable
match. That he had been greatlv
slandered every one believed. Be-
sides being rich, he was handsome
and agreeable in person, of pleasant
Ethel Freeman.
91
manners, and not without ability.
But Mrs. Reed unequivocall}' and
emphatically disliked him ; and on her
husband's telling her tliat Freeman
had asked their daughter's hand of
him, she expressed her feelings in the
foregoing decisive terms.
Mr. Reed was one of those easy-
going husbands, who, whenever family
questions involving responsibility are
at issue, always seek refuge behind
the irresponsible aphorism, "I wish
to avoid all domestic disturbances."
So, on this occasion, having said his
say, he remarked uneasily, "Well,
well, mother, you and Ethel can set-
tle it between you," and left the
room.
II.
Ethel Reed inherited both her
mother's chivalrous faith in the high-
est manhood and womanhood, and
somewhat Utopian tenets regarding
marriage, and her father's practical
sense and pertinacity of purpose. It
was natural to her to invest those she
cared for with ideal, ennobling quali-
ties ; but duties devolving upon her
from having too fully accepted as
genuine that which was only imag-
inary she would never seek to evade
should disillusion come too late to
her. Her mother, knowing this, was
the more acutely sensitive to the fore-
boded consequences of the proposed
marriage. She knew well the folly
of direct opposition. She must pro-
ceed cautiously, yet at once, and she
decided to consider carefully her ar-
guments, and present them in unas-
sailable array to Ethel, trusting to
the latter's strong sense and practical
views to be convinced, and to sub-
mit.
Ethel was extremely beautiful to
look upon. Her beauty, it must be
confessed, was the greatest fascina-
tion she possessed, for she was
neither brilliant nor very accomplished
nor strikingly talented in any special
direction. "I want my daughter
above all things to be womanly," her
father had said. "I want neither a
musical genius, nor a literary genius,
nor an artistical genius, nor a curi-
osity of any sort." So Ethel knew a
little of various arts and vanities
commonly termed accomplishments,
but was thoroughly domestic in her
tastes, while her housewifely ways
were of the sort most men prize after
marriage, if not so likely as more
showy traits to attract regard be-
fore.
But her remarkable beauty had
thus far proven a sufliciently power-
ful magnet, and though it be some-
what out of date to give the portrait
of the heroine, yet as every one who
knew P^thel was consciously or un-
consciously greatly influenced by her
looks, they seemed so essentially an
element of her very personality, that
it is manifestly desirable to describe
her. She was tall, slender, straight,
but of well-rounded figure, and lithe-
some as a willow wand. Her head,
beautifully shaped and well set on a
slender, graceful neck, was adorned
with abundant masses of black hair
of that rare quality that seems to
emit a soft sheen with every changing
light. Her eyes were large and
black, and possessed a peculiar soft-
ness and shyness, and long, thick
lashes added to this effect ; — one of
her admirers not inaptly compared
them to deep lakes in the darkness
of a thick-leaved wood. She had a
brilliant brunette complexion, the
92
Ethel F7-eenian.
cheeks always tlie deepest tint of
the rose ; her mouth was well formed,
large rather than small, expressing
decision and firmness, and redeeming
the almost too sweet look of the e^^es.
Added to these was the something
called style that is not the mere wear-
ing of the most fashionable clothes,
nor a certain bearing or gait or air,
but an intangible but true talent given
to the typical young lady of New
York society ; though in Ethel the
usual dash and sometimes bizarre
tout ensemble were tempered by — why
not say domesticity ?
Both parents were very proud of
her beauty, and Ethel herself relied
too much upon it, foigetting that
however attractive it might prove at
first, if it were not merely a fortunate
adornment to more lasting charms,
it becomes often forgotten or unno-
ticed — valueless.
The next evening Ethel was at the
theatre, with George Freeman as es-
cort. Her mother used often to sit
up until after her return from opera,
party, and ball, to hear her recount
her gaieties, and they would sit gos-
sipping together like two girls ; but
to-night she was to persuade her of
the unworthiuess of a favored lover,
and her spirits sank at thought of the
encounter. The play they had been
to see was King Lear, and Mrs. Reed
had an undefined belief that Ethel's
feelings of duteous obedience and
honor to parents would consequently
be in the ascendant.
She began by speaking of what her
husband had told her, and of Ethel's
evident favor to Mr. Freeman, while
her daughter listened silently. She
then argued tlie probable, nay almost
certain, results of such a marriage as
theirs would be, from the reasons she
had given Ethel's father. Ethel had
been standing at the window looking
out into the night ; she then came
and sat on a low stool by her mother's
knee, where she could look directly
in her face.
"I admit a great deal you say,
mother, but I see much real goodness
and latent nobleness of character in
him that you have never noticed ; and
he says," she added, blushing rosy
red, "that I can help him lead a
worthier and higher life ; that I
should be an inspiration to him !"
"Jane Eyre and Lord Rochester,"
said her mother, sadly scoruful.
"Yes, Jane Eyre and Lord Roch-
ester, if you please to call us so,
mother. I am sorry you do uot like
it, but indeed it is too late to talk to
me now. I knew vou had not a high
opinion of George ; — nobody thinks
half as well of him as he deserves,
but I never thought you positively
disliked him, as I see now you do ; —
and why do you ?"
"I suppose it is natural."
An(f then Mrs. Reed told Ethel the
story of her youth. It was a touch-
ing confidence, and when she ended
tears flowed over Ethel's cheeks.
"Poor mother! poor, poor moth-
er !" she said, smoothing tlie thin sil-
ver hair ; and the two wept together,
the mother's tears being the first she
had shed for years, and the last she
ever shed over the old love affair,
and these more for the sympathy of
her daughter, and because of the fear
and sorrow she felt for her, than for
any lingering grief.
" But we will not ' visit the sins of
the fathers upon the children,' " said
Ethel, after a little while. "George
Ethel Freeman.
93
is constant, and as true as steel : you
will see, mother."
"But if I am right, — as God for-
bid that I should be, — if you should
be wretched and miserable, what
could, what sliould you do?" per-
sisted Mrs. Reed.
"I should do the best 1 could.
We marry for better or for worse, and
if it should be for worse instead of
for better, all my life long I would
never break my promise," said Ethel
solemnly.
"But you are so young, only eigh-
teen, and you talk of suffering a life-
time ! Child, you do not know what
you are saying. Only wait a few
years ; — women see very differently at
twent^'-five from what the}' do at
eighteen. Wait, Ethel."
"No, mother, darling mother, I
must not !" and the firm lines con-
tracted around the girl's mouth ; " but
oh ! how sorry I am you do not like
it. And we have always been such
friends, too."
"My darling, you have my consent
and my blessing, and may God help
you !" said Mrs. Reed tremulously ;
and so ended the sad and unsatisfac-
tory interview.
III.
Mr. Reed was very well pleased
with his prospective son-in-law, and
he made a grand wedding. Hundreds
of guests thronged the house. The
ceremony was performed by several
very High Churchmen, under the con-
ventional marriage bell of snowy,
sweet-smelling flowers. The presents
were numerous and expensive, the
bridal dress costly and becoming.
The society papers said, — " The beau-
tiful bride was charmingly attired in
a magnificent white satin robe, with
very long train, and superb point lace
veil held in place with a splendid
bandeau of diamonds," etc., etc.
Could a young couj)le have set out for
the matrimonial Elysian fields with
more pro[)itious wedding auguries?
The bridegroom was very much in
love. He had lived the life of a man
of the world and of fashion, and was
weary of vanities. He was also a
man of letters, a dilettante in a mild
way, and he fondly fancied that
Ethel's home-like ways and domestic
likings would combine with his poeti-
cal predilections to make an ideal
home. In furtherance of his idyllic
project they went to reside at P ,
there being a suggestiveness of the
country about it that was dear to
George, while the ways were not
enough unlike New York ways to
cause discomfort from finding an
unpleasant adaptation a necessity.
Ethel's young friends were loudly
indignant at her being taken away to
an abode that thev stigmatized as
being "neither fish, flesh, nor fowl;
not the country, and too large for a
village, but too small for a city."
But Ethel did not mind, and went
happily to her new home.
P , though decidedly provin-
cial, is intensely self-respecting and
ambitious. Society was intellect-
ual, cultured, and would have been
aesthetic only that the aesthetic wave
had not yet rolled in upon us when
the Freemans went there to live.
Ethel found her brilliant beauty of
much less avail than in New York,
and her "manners debonair" and
stylishness of not much account.
Neither were the neatness, system,
and comfort of her housekeeping
highly appreciated, and she soon felt
94
Ethel Freeman.
herself at a disadvantage among the
literati with whom they associated.
But George liked the intellectual,
inspiriting, social atmosphere, and
never regretted the sumptuous life of
the metropolis as his wife often did.
To him the oul^' flaw was that Ethel
was in nowise "talented," and pos-
sessed no ambition to become so, for
he soon came to this frame of mind.
Some one has said, — "There is noth-
ing so much annoys a man as to take
bis wife into society and find her
eclipsed." If they had remained in
New York, where Ethel had been a
belle all her life, all might have been
well ; but here, to George's great
spleen, he felt that she was entirely
eclipsed, and he made them both mis-
erable by complaints of her father's
theories and notions regarding female
education. "If you had been taught
to sing, or sculp, or paint, or play, or
something of the kind, how much hap-
pier we might be now," he would say ;
or, "If you only cared to improve,
and add to what you do know !"
Even her domestic acquirements,
that he had once thought more potent
than anything else to promote wedded
happiness, he now deprecated, and if
such exchange had been possible,
would very gladly have exchanged
them for even one talent, well know-
ing that in P there would be small
danger of its being hidden in the
earth.
For her own sake Ethel did not so
verv much care. At the end of ten
years they had three lovely children,
two girls and a boy, and in their com-
panionship she was happy, and lat-
terly gave scarcely a thought to her
early, girlish pleasures. She had
some friends of her own sort, too.
not aspiring, climbing females, bat
womanl}', old-fashioned wives and
mothers, like herself.
She began to feel at last, however,
that her husband was certainly drift-
ing away from her, and the knowl-
edge brought agony. Her mother's
warning words, for almost the first
time, came to her memory. She
wondered if she had taken a wrong
course since her marriage. She could
not change her nature ; she could not
be like the women George admired
so much. He had known just what
she was at first, and yet he had said
she would be his inspiration. "In-
spiration !" She knew very well that
he considered her anything but that.
"I am a hindrance, a drag, an old
man of the sea that he cannot get rid
of," she thought, bitterly. George
had no patience with her, either ; he
was harsh and dictatory, and so dis-
satisfied with her, she thought. And
was she, after all, less admirable
than the ladies for whom her husband
professed such esteem? she ques-
tioned. She could not believe it.
She had always been flattered and
followed at home, but how little any
one cared for her here !
"And I never have any genuine
good times as I did in New York, and
only tiresome, bookish people, and
all kinds of geniuses, to be with. I
am beo;inning to sigh for the flesh-
o o Cj
pots of Gotham all the time."
And Ethel rebelled, no longer lis-
tening patiently to criticism, remon-
strance, or persuasion. Vexations
and coolness multiplied, and con-
stantly the breach widened between
husband and wife.
(to be continued.)
Lisbon, N. H.
LISBON, NEW HAMPSHIRE.
Historic Notes: Soil, Streams, Lakes, and Minerals.
By SAMUEL EMERY.
Lisbon was first granted in the year of the Concord charter. Hence as
1 03 under the nan^e of Concord, by a single stroke of the p n th
wh.ch name .t retained for the sue- Gunthvvaite titles were extinguish d
ceed.ng five years. The grantees not and the poor settler, who ^h'^
cornply.ng w.th the conditions of the wife and children during the" ye
charter, the same became forfeited, had shared all the privaUons of nio!
as was supposed, and in 1768 it was neer life and had begun toenjoy some
regranted to an entuely new company of the comforts so dearly earned wa
of propnetors, under the name of at once deprived of his home with
Gunthwa.e. Through the influence nothing left^ but his pittance oj ^r
of Capt. Leonard Wh.ting, who was sonal property. A part of the se -
instrumenta .n procuring the second tiers abandoned their daims ad went
d.arter, and Ma, John Young, of to Canada and places further noTth
Haverh.l 1 Mass., some settlements others endeavored to sell their im:
were made. Matters, however, pro- provements,-but no one was wiUin.
gressed slowly, and for several years to purchase, so prevalent wa ^
^ere were but few additions. The feeling of distrust ..nd uncertainty
War of the Revolution came to a Every one knew that the first charter
close, and a new impetus was given had actually been forfeited, and that
to emigration. p,i„ts had been carried by the dint
In the year 1785 there were com- of bulldozing and fraud; and yet
ortably ensconced in log cabins forty there was no redress, inasmuch as the
families, besides a respectable con- courts had decided against them By
tingent of bachelors. After the first far the greater number of citizens re^
influx subsequent to the war, emigra- mained upon their farms and awaited
tion m some degree abated ; yet each the issue; and when the claims of
year witnessed a sure and steady in- the Concord proprietors were fully
crease, and evidently the morning of established and acknowledged find
prosperity began to dawn upon the ing they must yield to the inevitable
new colony. The genuine prosperity they purchased their farms over
which had rewarded the efforts of the again. At length the excitement and
Gunthwaite proprietors was coveted disturbance subsided, and bv an act
by the original grantees. They came of the legislature the name'of Con-
forward, laid claim to the township, cord was resumed, and retained until
and, as is surmised, made some kind 1824, when it was changed to Lis-
of a compromise with certain influen- bon.
tial citizens. The controversy thus The first settlers of the town were
raised was followed by litigation, Samuel Martin, Ebenezer Richardson
which culminated in the restoration William Belknap, and Samuel Sher-
96
Lisbon, N. H.
man ; then followed the Youngs, the
most influential family through a con-
siderable period ; afterwards came
these, being the surnames, — Dexter,
Darley, Judd, Parker, Aldrich, Jes-
seman. Bishop, Harris, Howland,
Northey, Hildreth, Jewett, Colby,
Quimby, Streeter, Spooner, Oakes,
Priest, Noyes, Jameson, Taylor,
Haines, Applebee, Morse, Bailey,
Ash, Whitcomb, Smith, Page, Wells,
Knapp, Kinneston, Burt, Kay, Em-
ery, Cushraan, Moris, Kelsea, Gurn-
sey, Mclntire, Cooley, Whiting, Bar-
rett, Clark, Walker, Palmer, Robins,
Cole, Eastman, Whipple, Cobleigh,
Kimball, Savage, Gould, and Ela, —
besides individuals and other fami-
lies, perhaps equally early, but not
so numerous.
Lisbon, as a farming town, may be
classed with those of a medium grade.
The soil upon the intervals along
the Ammonoosuc when first cleared
was quite productive, thougli naturally
light, as is generally the case through-
out the western part of the township ;
nevertheless it responds freely to the
application of fertilizers. The east-
ern part was originally covered with
a hard-wood growth, and consequently
possesses a strong soil ; and the farm-
ers have been well rewarded for their
labor. The grazing here is excel-
lent, and much attention is given to
dairying. Potato raising, for which
the soil is wonderfully adapted, for
many years was the chief industry.
Amid these verdant hills is a spot,
sightly and attractive, where the gi-
gantic maples have been superseded
by human habitations ; here has been
built the village of Sugar Hill, a cosy
hamlet, noted for the intelligence and
morality of its citizens. Lisbon vil-
lage, situated in the south-west cor-
ner of the town, on the Ammonoosuc
river, is a thriving place, and the
entrepot for the surrounding country.
Several prosperous manufacturing es-
tablishments have been located here,
a description of which is given else-
where. In common with so many
other towns in New England, Lisbon
has suffered from emigration west-
ward, and the subsidence of the rural
population to the business centres.
In some back neighborhoods, where
thrift and prosperity were once dis-
cernible, the school-houses are nearly
vacant, buildings are going to decay,
and the forest encroaches upon the
field.
The supply of water throughout
the town is abundant and permanent.
Upon almost every farm are springs,
which furnish nature's beverage, cold
and pure ; then meandering streams
diversify the landscape, and silver
lakes lend beauty and variety to the
scenery. Ammonoosuc is the princi-
pal stream. Fresh from the moun-
tain gorges of the famous Crawford
Notch, its waters, clear as crystal,
flow through the town in a south-
westerly direction. There are two
dams aci'oss the river, one at Lisbon
villao;e, the other three miles above.
Two miles above the village is the
so-called "Salmon hole." The river
at this point is very narrow and deep ;
a huge rock protrudes from the east
shore, upon which rests the bridge
that spans the stream. In days of
yore salmon were caught there weigh-
ing from twenty to twenty-five pounds.
About this place cluster legends re-
lating to transactions back in a pre-
historic period. The largest tributary
of the Ammonoosuc is the South
Lisbon, N. H.
97
Branch, which rises near Mount Kins-
man, flows through Franconia, and
traverses the north-central part of the
town. Burnham's brook derives its
name from a hermit, who built his
cabin near its mouth, for some cause
seeking entire seclusion. As civiliza-
tion advanced, he retired to some
more remote place in "the wilderness.
The brook rises in the south-west
part of Littleton, flovrs in a circuitous
route tlirough Lyman into Lisbon,
and empties into the Ammonoosuc at
the bend near " Salmon hole." One
of the first mills erected in this town
was built by Capt. AVhiting upon this
brook, on a site ever since occupied.
Along its course, or connected with
it, are ten ponds, and from time im-
memorial it has been a favorite resort
for hunters and fishermen. The
Robins brook, formerly well stocked
with trout, drains the Walker hill re-
gion, and empties into the river about
one mile above the upper dam. The
Salmon Hole brook drains considera-
ble territory, and has furnished water
power in several places. The fisher-
men have never been able to exhaust
the supply of trout in this brook, as
every year large numbers are caught.
It has its source in the Sugar Hill sec-
tion, and flows westerly into the Am-
monoosuc, just above the place from
which it takes its name.
Henry pond lies upon the border
of the interval, three fourths of a
mile above Lisbon village. It is the
home of pouts and musk-rats, and in
Bpring-time is musical with the song
of the frog ; onl}' is it noticeable for
its historic associations. The first
white man's dwelling, the first school-
house, and the first church built in
town, overlooked its limited area.
Perch pond, named from the spe-
cies of fish with which it abounds, may
be found in the western part of the
town, a mile or more back from the
river. In exte,nt it does not exceed
twenty-five acres. Neither the pond
itself nor its surroundings possess
any particular attractions.
Streeter pond, so called from the
surname of the first settler in its
vicinity, lies in the north-east corner
of the town, two miles from Franco-
nia village. It is a pretty sheet of
water, estimated to contain seventy-
five or eighty acres. Guests from
the Goodnough and Forest Hill houses
frequent this pond, and the fisherman
is well rewarded for his pains.
Pearl lake, comprising an area of
one hundred acres, is situated near
the Landaff line, two miles east of
Lisbon village. The water is pure
and transparent, being supplied from
springs in the neighboring ravines.
Unlike many lakes in New Hampshire,
it is not surrounded by a barren
waste, but lands fertile and clothed
with verdure. The scenery from the
lake, or shores and hillsides about it,
is lovely and picturesque in the ex-
treme. There is a legend that the
Great Spirit made a deep cavity by
scooping out the earth and heaping it
in a mass, then the water from the
several streams flowing in completed
the formation of a lake. This theory
of its creation is worthy of considera-
tion when the topography of the coun-
try is brought to notice. On the
west side Pond hill rises abruptly
several hundred feet, and the adja-
cent waters are of unknown depth.
While floating upon this tiny pool,
the immense upheavals, forming hills,
seen upon all sides, can but inspire
98
Lisbon^ N. H.
one with emotions of awe and admi-
ration. By the early settlers this
bod}' of water was called Bear pond,
because bruin himself "staid here,"
and his kinfolks were numerous in
the outlying forests ; neither were
they extinct at a much later date.
In the year 1841 farmers living in the
vicinity found havoc made among
their flocks of sheep, and, knowing
too well the cause, made known the
facts to D. G. Goodall, a well known
citizen of the village, and withal a
Nimrod of high repute. He took
■with him Samuel Dailey, and other
experienced hunters, all eager for the
sport. They proceeded to the neigh-
borhood of the pond, Mr. Goodall
taking along with him his dog,
Beaver, a powerful mastiff, always a
companion in hunting expeditions.
After entering the woods, the men
separated, agreeing to come together
as soon as possible at the report of a
gun. But a short time elapsed when
Mr. Goodall came upon a female
bear and two half grown cubs. Be-
ing a fearless man, he fired upon
them, killing one of the cubs and
wounding the dam. In a moment
the enraged animal sprang upon him,
and with equal celerity Beaver grap-
pled with the common foe. Mr.
Goodall disengaged himself from the
bear and leaped upon a stump near at
hand, and loaded his gun with all
possible haste. The contest between
the bear and the dog was of short
duration. Quicker than the story is
told the latter was rendered helpless,
bleeding from fearful wounds, and
bruin again went for the master.
Just as her head peered above the
edge of the stump, the gun was dis-
charged, and the contents were lodged
in her brain. The other hunters soon
came up, pursued the other cub, and
dispatched it. Thus ended the bear
tragedy. The poor dog was six weeks
recovering from his wounds, and ever
afterwards was a privileged character.
After larger game became scarce
thereabouts, it was discovered that
mink did congregate in these waters,
and many people came here to hunt
them for their fur ; so in course of
time Bear pond gave place to a name
having a more practical application —
Mink pond.
In the summer of 1854 some fisher-
men here discovered in clam shells
substances which the imagination
easily manufactured into pearls.
Furthermore, it was stated for truth
that True Page found a pearl which
he sold for $30. The report went
abroad, and quickly all the loafer
class in Lisbon village, with a retinue
of boys and a small percentage of re-
spectable people, rushed pell-mell to
Mink pond. For days there might
have been seen from fifty to seventy-
five people, knee-deep in water, hunt-
ing for the hidden treasures. Clam
shells accumulated in heaps, the scat-
tered remnants of which are still to
be seen. At length, finding no more
pockets replenished, the bubble burst :
hence the propriety, or the impro-
priety, of the present name — Pearl
lake.
The outlet of the lake is Garnet
brook, so called from the garnets
found imbedded in rocks along the
upper course of the stream. The
brook flows in a north-westerly direc-
tion, and empties into the river near
Henry pond. Four water-privileges
have been used on this stream, but
the buildings, as well as the dams,
Lisbon^ N. H.
99
have all gone to decay. Near the
Hillside Home, a sunmier resort kept
b}' Edwin Knight, on said brook, are
the Hughson falls, a cascade in which
the water leaps down over a succes-
sion of irregular steps some seventy-
five or eighty feet. In time of high
water a spectacle is presented truly
grand and imposing.
Of late years, Lisbon, on account
of its proximity to the mountains, its
pure air, and delightful scenery, has
become famous as a summer resort.
To meet the increasing demand, com-
modious structures have been reared,
specially fitted for the convenience
and comfort of the guests, so that
within their walls the pleasure-seeker,
the invalid, or the care-worn business
man truly may find a home. First
comes to notice the Sunset Hill House,
built in the year 1879, by Haskin &
Bowles, under whose management it
has attained its present popularity.
Its table is supplied with all the
substantials and luxuries procured in
the markets and farm-houses, and its
arrangements throughout are those of
a first-class establishment. Being of
peculiar architecture, and domeless,
with colors flying from a flagstaff, its
appearance from a distance is sug-
gestive of a fortress rather than the
abode of peace and pleasure. The
house is located near the village of
Sugar Hill, on a small plateau ele-
vated nearly two thousand feet above
sea level. No spot in the mountain
region is more lovely, or abounds
in more picturesque and romantic
scenery. To the east, on the oppo-
site side of a deep valley, are the
mountains, so bold, so huge, so rug-
ged and magnificent. The whole
range rises to view, from Mount
Washington to Kinsman, from the
sombre spruce in the foot-hills to
the rocky cliffs in the clouds, alto-
gether constituting a vast expanse of
mountain side, endless forest, and
rocky declivities.
The tourist can here revel in scenes
"which daily viewed, please daily,
and whose novelty survives long
knowledge and scrutiny of years."
From day to day he can recline upon
the veranda and contemplate these
grand old mountains in all their va-
ried phases. He can gaze upon these
lofty summits, bleak and weird and
desolate and silent, reposing in the
glorious sunlight, or when the tem-
pest bursts upon them in all its fury,
and presses their rock-ribbed sides,
searches every nook, and howls its
mournful anthems through hollow
caverns. Again he beholds them in
the terrific grandeur of the storm, as
angry clouds obscure their rough feat-
tures, and the thunder peals with
startling crash and the lightning
flashes through the gloom. From the
Sunset Hill House, westward, the
scene presented to the vision, if less
romantic, is more loveh' and attrac-
tive ; nature unrolls a panorama pe-
culiarly her own, embracing all the
beauties of the landscape. Over the
variegated expanse, far away, are
seen the smoky for.ms of the Green
Mountains ; farther south appears hill
beyond hill, till in the dim distance
the view is lost. This house usually
remains open into October, affording
opportunity for lovers of nature to
linger, and behold the ubiquitous for-
est tinted with all the gorgeous hues
of autumn, and the mountain-tops
white with snow.
One mile north of the Sunset Hill
lOO
Lisbon, JV. H.
are the Goodnough and Phillips
houses. The former is kept by the
proprietors, Goodnough & Peckett,
and accommodates three hundred
guests ; and the latter, by W. E.
Phillips, lodges one hundred. These
houses are first-class in every respect,
and are popular, as is proved by the
liberal patronage they receive. Ex-
cept the view westward, the scenery
does not differ materially from that
of the house last mentioned. The
Goodnough was the first lai'ge board-
ing-house erected in Lisbon, and its
success has encouraged the building
of others. It is a fact worthy of
mention, and one that speaks well
for the house, that quite a proportion
of the boarders return from year to
year. The Phillips is a new house, of
handsome appearance and pleasant
surroundings, and makes its debut
under favorable auspices.
The Breezy Hill House. C. H. Jes-
seman proprietor, occupies a com-
manding elevation one mile east of
the Ammonoosuc river, and three
miles north-east of Lisbon village :
one hundred guests find accommoda-
tions at this place. The house was
built in 1883, and was opened for the
first time the present year (1884).
As seen from points below, one is
impressed with the idea of its stateli-
ness and symmetry ; a near approach
but confirms the impression. Neither
pains nor expense has been spared
to render this place attractive and
worthy of patronage. Nature, too,
hath vouchsafed to lend a helping
hand. The view of Mount Lafayette
and contiguous peaks is superb. The
Ammonoosuc valley, an extensive ag-
ricultural district, the Lyman hills,
and Gardner's mountain, greet the
vision to the westward. In a neigh-
boring ravine flows a purling brook,
with woodland pools, where sport
diminutive specimens of the finny
tribe. Near at hand are rocky hil-
locks, and groves of primeval forests
with sylvan retreats, where the deni-
zen of the crowded cit}' may ramble
in seclusion and hold communion with
nature. The success which has at-
tended the efforts of the proprietor
thus far augurs favorably for the
future prospects of the Breezy Hill
House.
Besides the larger houses, there
are numerous small establishments,
which are vearlv throno;ed with board-
ers. Some of these are the Hillside
Home, Elm House, Bluff House, Echo
Farm House, Elm Farm House, Grand
View Cottage, Woodland Cottage,
Cedar Cottage, Su^r Hill House,
and Mapleside.
Previous to the year 1800 iron ore
of a fine quality was discovered on a
high ridge in the south-eastern part
of the town. At an early day works
were established on a small scale for
the manufacture of iron. The busi-
ness proving quite lucrative, in the
year 1810 capitalists from "below"
formed a company known as the
" N. H. Iron Factory Co." At Frau-
conia village, the nearest water-privi-
lege, a furnace was erected, and
other buildings, provided with all the
necessary fixtures for manufacturing
iron and casting various vessels and
implements. The business thrived'
in accordance with the expectations
of the stockholders, and for a succes-
sion of years the net profits of the
company averaged $30,000 per an-
num. The company continued to
prosper until improved means of
Lisbon, JV. H.
lOI
transportation brought their products
and those from the mines of Pennsyl-
vania in competition. After being
in operation tiiirty years, the furnace
was closed, and work was not re-
sumed until 18")9 ; then other parties
operated the mines for two or three
years, and suspended ; after which
the buildings fell into decay, and
finally in the year 1884 were con-
sumed by fire. The supply of iron
ore in the mines of Lisbon is still
abundant, and supposed to be inex-
haustible. Limestone is found in
some parts of the town, and the man-
ufacture of lime was formerly quite
an industry.
It is generally believed that Lisbon
occupies the central point of the min-
eral region of New Hampshire. Within
its limits, besides the iron mentioned
above, are found gold, silver, lead,
and copper. Whether or not any of
these minerals will be found in pay-
ing quantities remains yet to be de-
termined. A great mineral excite-
ment occurred here in 1866, originating
as follows : Prof. J. H. Allen, an
adept at mining, discovered a speci-
men of free gold in quartz rock one
mile east of Lisbon village. More
specimens were found in the quartz
in various places, not only in Lisbon,
but also in the adjoining towns.
Searching for gold led to the discov-
ery of other minerals throughout a
territory including several towns.
Capitalists were forthcoming who
prospected, made investments, erected
mills for working the quartz, and,
what was more, produced handsome
bars of gold. Yet from the begin-
ning grave doubts had existed among
sober-minded men as to the proba-
bility of gold being found in paying
quantities, and this doubt established
a principle of action among mining
men. The whole business drifted
into speculation. A programme was
soon adopted which each succeeding
party followed to the letter. The
course pursued was to bond a piece
of land, sink a shaft of a few feet,
make a good show, sometimes by
bringing rock from another place,
then sell out. The man that sold was
always the lucky man. During the
interval of ten years it is estimated a
million and a half dollars was squan-
dered in mining operations in Lisbon
and vicinity, not, however, to the
detriment of the town. Hotels and
boarding-houses reaped a harvest,
though sometimes losing a bill bv
some poor dupe who had been fleeced
of all he possessed. Again : In some
cases farmers were enabled to sell at
fancy prices some sterile pasture,
comparatively valueless.
Lisbon, as before stated, is the
central point of the mineral region ;
furthermore, it has been the head-
quarters of the mining men, and the*
place where much of the rock has
been worked, yet within the limits of
the town only one mine has been
opened, that one being the so-called
Atwood mine, located near the place
where gold was first discovered. In
relation to the mine, we quote from a
mining record as follows: "The
vein was dipping at a high angle to
the north-west, and a shaft put down
perpendicular 100 feet, passing the
vein at depth of fifteen feet. Very
many specimens of free gold were
taken out, and the sulphurets were
specially rich. Owing to bad man-
agement this mine was abandoned.
I do not know of any attempt ever
I02
Stephen Peabody.
being made to strike the vein from
the bottom of the shaft by con-
tract."
All the facts in the case bear wit-
ness that the mineral resources of
Lisbon have never been brought to a
reasonable test. And now, when
excitement gives place to rational de-
liberation, experienced mining men
express the opinion that the quartz
veins in Lisbon carry gold in quanti-
ties sufficient to pay for working, and
that in the near future the spirit of
speculation will subside, and there
will spring up a profitable business.
[Lisbon to-day is a charming little
village nestling in the valley on the
banks of the Ammonoosuc river. The
people are wide-awake and enter-
prising, and use every endeavor to
increase the business and improve the
appearance of the village. This pub-
lic spirit is shown not only in hand-
some private residences, but in a verv
attractive hotel built by the citizens
of the village, a modern iron bridge
across the river, and neatness and
thrift on every hand.
During the year 1886 the village
was permanently improved by the
introduction of a never-failing water-
supply from Mink pond or Pearl
lake, distant two miles, and four hun-
dred and fifty feet above the bridge.
There is a head of two hundred and
fifty feet, as water is obtained from
the outlet of the lake, only a mile
distant, and it is brought in an eight-
inch main. There are thirty-one hy-
drants. The water is very soft and
pure. The water-works complete
cost $21,000, and will eventually be
under the control of the precinct.
There is in the village a well-organ-
ized fire department, consisting of a
board of engineers, a hose company,
and a hook and ladder company. —
Editor.]
THE ANNULLING OP THE COMMISSION OF STEPHEN
PEABODY.
BY LEVI W. DODGE.
In the January number of " The
Granite Monthly''^ was published, by
request of John Wentworth. a copy of
the "Writ of Supersedeas" issued by
the last royal governor of New Hamp-
shire, just previous to his hasty flight
from the country already grown too
ardently democratic for the safe abode
of royalty. The document was made
to apply to the revoking of the com-
mission of Stephen Peabody as cor-
oner in the county of Hillsborough,
New Hampshire, because " it appears
not to be consistent with Our Honor,
and the good of Our Subjects of our
said county, that the said Stephen
Peabody should any longer be con-
tinued in the said office."
The true inwardness of the repeal
of this commission is found in the
events of that period, and the history
of the two men most immediately
connected with the serving of the
document, viz., the man whom it was
designed to effect, and tiie sheriff of
the county.
Stephen Pea body.
103
Stephen Peabody was one of the
most ardent of patriots, and made
himself heard and understood as
arrayed with the lovers of liberty
against the despotic exercise of the
power of King George the III. Nor
could he be bribed or kept silent by
any appointment or com.raission under
the king, and when the call for troops
came to march for Bunker Hill, he
was enrolled in the regiment of Col.
James Reed, and was appointed its
adjutant. In 1776 he was major in
Col. Wy man's regiment, raised for
the Canada expedition. At the Bat-
tle of Bennington he was upon the
staff of Gen. Stark, and in the Rhode
Island campaign of 1778 he was
lieutenant colonel commanding in
Gen. Whipple's brigade. Col. Pea-
bod}' died in 1779, just in the midst
of a most useful career. In his
death the cause of the patriots lost
one of its most able defenders.
The undisguised political senti-
ments of Mr. Peabody during those
pre-revolutionary movements would
have been sufficient cause in the mind
of the royal governor for the revok-
ing of any official commission in the
hands of others than friends of the
royal cause. But how did the ear of
Gov. Wentworth catch the discordant
ntterings of his distant commissioned
subordinates?
The sheriff of the county was the
notorious tory, Benjamin Whiting, of
Hollis, whose obnoxious methods,
odious deportment, and offensive ut-
terances called for his examination
by the Committee of Safety at Am-
herst in July, 1775. He was sum-
moned, but did not appear, to answer
the charges of "being inimical to the
Rights and Liberties of the United
Colonies," or, in other words, a tory ;
but he was found guilty, and shortly
afterward he left the state and his
family, and a few years thereafter
died in exile. He was one of the
illustrious seventy-six who were em-
braced in the "Act of Banishment"
passed by the General Court in No-
vember, 1778. Whiting's property
was confiscated, and he was forbidden
to return to the country under penalty
of transportation.
The two individuals thus noticed,
both officers commissioned by the
king, and brought often together in
the discharge of their official duties, —
one an outspoken tory, and the other
an ardent patriot, diverse in charac-
ter, and socially and politically op-
posed ; the one having the ear of the
royal governor, and the other the
confidence of the people, — it is easily
deducible how Gov. Wentworth should
thus have concluded it "no longer
consistent with Our Honor and the
good of Our Subjects of our said
county that the said Stephen Peabody
should any longer be continued in the
said office."
I04
Phillies Exeter Academy.
PHILLIPS EXETER ACADEMY.
BY HERMAN W. STEVENS.
An old mail, my townsman, says, —
"It is sixty years since father left
me in Exeter to fit for college. I
cannot refuse to admit that the P. E. A.
graduate of to-day is often found to
have a better trained mind than the
college graduate of my time."
The foundation of the now famous
Phillips P^xeter Academy was due to
the nobleness of John Phillips, Har-
vard college, 1735. "Without nat-
ural issue, he made posterity his
heir." The alumni celebrated the
end of the academy's hundredth year
of work in 1883.
The writer was admitted as a
"Prep." We formed an irrelative
crowd. There were neat and erect
fellows from military academies,
kuowiug high school boys, raw coun-
try chaps, typical city lads, and
Westerners, Southerners, and Chi-
nese. The first day was unlike any
day which I had ever experienced, or
of which I had heard or read. 'Twas
surprising how soon the academy put
its stamp upon every member. In a
short time, though differing widely in
breeding, inclination, and capacity,
the great mass was welded into a firm
but mobile body. There were a good
many disappointments. The work
and methods of instruction were try-
ing, and the strength of maturit}', the
confidence of previous leadership, and
the complacency acquired under pri-
vate tutorship failed in many instances
to secure high standing. Recitation
tests and frequent written examina-
tions put us tlu-ough sieve after sieve,
and by Christmas every one had
fonnd his place. Some did not re-
turn after the holidays. During this
year a foundation was laid in Latin,
under a most enthusiastic instructor,
which was so full, so exact, and so
enduring that I have known manv a
fellow to rest all his hopes upon it
when he had become an idle senior.
The weak and irreclaimable were
largely dropped during this 3'ear. As
juniors the grind became endurable,
and we thought less of class and
more of school. But enough of the
unregenerate remained to furnish an
excuse for another weeding out. The
losses of this year were in part made
good by a set who brought some ex-
perience from the classical courses of
the public schools. When we became
middlers, the written examinations
increased in severity, and the "Pre-
lims" were kept constantl}' in mind.
For those who got away with ten
subjects the senior year opened pleas-
antly. The preparation for "Finals"
proceeded by easy stages, and we
were graduated as the Centennial
class.
Exeter is simply a healthy, well-
appointed town, of ancient date. It
has secured little modern develop-
ment. Remarkably few temptations
beset the students. The North Ameri-
can of July, 1858, says of the acad-
emy, — "Its students are steadily in-
creasing in numbers, drawn thither
in part by its ancient renown, and
in part by its present reputation
and charities. . . . The internal
economy of the school is not unlike
that of a well ordered college. The
Phillifs Exeter Acadcmv.
105
teachers eoustitiite a faculty, in which
are vested the government and
instruction. Their support comes
excUisiveW from the funds. Tiiey
do not, therefore, ' hang on princes'
favors,' or on the still more fickle
favor of the populace. As a natural
consequence, they are not obliged, by
any consideration of interest, to lis-
ten to the capricious whims of boys,
or to pander to the tastes of a super-
ficial, hurrying people. . . . The
faculty can be systematic and thorough
without becoming a topic for debate
and denunciation iu town-meeting."
This is true to-day, and it is difficult
to imagine a condition more likely to
produce good results. Failure can
come only through faculty weakness.
There are in the academy four
classes only, — Preparatory, Junior,
Middle, Senior. The fit for college
is not excelled ; the English depart-
ment is inferior to a good high school.
Rules are few in number, but the
wisdom of years has so fashioned
them that their restraining power is
felt throughout the course. The
large degree of personal liberty, the
absolute necessity of meeting certain
well known requirements, and the
strong democratic spirit of the school
render it easy to assume college du-
ties. The instructing body is remark-
ably strong. Prof. Pennell is said to
have revolutionized the teaching of
Latin ; certainly no student ever sat
long under him without great gain iu
celerity and precision. Profs. Went-
worth and Cilley are abler men than
one sees much of in collesfe. The
method of instruction does not com-
mend itself to the weak or indolent.
Information is given only after suc-
cess has been measurably secured by
hard work. The main thiii"- sought
is intellectual development. Hon-
esty, inclination to labor, and power
of endurance are imperatively de-
manded. Hence, anything in quality,
habit, mental or physical condition,
seriously interfering with a pupil's
progress, is very apt to make his seat
vacant. The ideal academy boy
would seem to be one with vitality
and human nature enough to be way-
ward, but possessed of latent manli-
ness sufficient to conquer himself.
The majority of the applicants for
admission have had some training iu
small academies and high schools,
and readily fall into the Junior class.
Two 3'ears of sharp work fit them for
entrance to any college except Har-
vard. A few graduates from classi-
cal institutions are admitted every
year to the Middle class, of whom
some complete the course and enter
college a year in advance. Candi-
dates for Harvard take the "Prelims"
at the end of the Middle year, and
"Finals" when through with the
Senior.
The faculty encourage base-ball,
foot-ball, and rowing, and there is
always a lively interest in the games.
There are two literary societies. The
Golden Branch was established iu
1818, and has until within a few years
afforded a common meeting-place for
picked boys of the different classes.
The Gideon S. Soule was organized
in 1882. Neither makes any parade
of mystery, and both are without
doubt of considerable value. The
best scholars are sought for member-
ship. With a view to supply "the
lack of a proper medium for the
interchange of opinions and the dis-
cussion of matters of general inter-
io6
Phillips Exeter Academy.
est" b}' the students, an academy
paper was established April 6, 1878.
The Exonian has been published reg-
ularly since during term time. It
has been of signal service to the
athletic interest, and given the latest
news from other schools and colleges.
Every student has an opportunity to
see his views in print, if expressed in
a gentlemanly manner, on all ques-
tions affecting the welfare of the
academy.
Nowhere is merit found out quicker
than at a large school, and the boys
at Phillips P^xeter seem to take on
with their new life extra discernment
in this particular. If the new fellow
can do anything well, he may be of
any shape, age, or nationality, and
get his due meed of acknowledgment,
and if companionable, contract en-
during friendships. The system of
management is the outcome of steady
growth. There have been no weak
administrations, for at no time during
the school's hundred years has the
faculty as a whole been lacking in
power. It is no secret that the set
of the institution is towards Harvard.
The present teaching force is made
up altogether of Harvard graduates.
The work of the Senior year does not
furnish the best drill for advanced
standing in other colleges, and the
course might profitably end at expira-
tion of the third year, but for the
peculiar demands of Harvard.
Phillips Andover is a lively rival.
Its inQuence has been in favor of
Yale, but '83 and '84 sent large num-
bers to Harvard. It is likely that
the preliminary examinations will
bring still nearer resemblance.
If Harvard's new theories are re-
pugnant to the old teachers, they
make no sign, but year after year
"hit-up" the pace, and send the
boys well prepared. Nevertheless, it
would be instructive, perhaps enter-
taining, to hear the outspoken opin-
ions of such fair exponents of the
Harvard of a quarter of a century ago
concerning the Harvard management
of to-day. Whatever else happens,
the new departure is likely to improve
the English province of the academy.
When our own language and physics
are taught as ably as Latin, Greek,
and mathematics, Phillips Exeter will
be "far and away" the best school
in the country.
AVe never heard a student assert
that the son of a wealthy man received
better treatment because of his wealth,
but it is widely believed that weak
goodness sometimes gets the better
of prankish ability in the matter of
pecuniary assistance. School boys
there, as elsewhere, are keen observ-
ers in their own sphere, and it may
as well be said now, the marking sys-
tem in use is never understood by the
students. For a time the belief ob-
tains that high marks indicate ability.
Next, it seems certain that they are
secured by sustained effort. Then
the conviction is forced home that
the marks of some of the dull are
starred. Finally, marks lose all sort
of significance to any save those who
are struggling for scholarships ; but
the estimate of the faculty, expressed
in other ways, has great weight.
It is generally known that no acad-
emy affords more assistance to poor
but enterprising young men. Tuition
is remitted in many instances, schol-
arships supply great help, and Abbot
Hall furnishes board for fifty at cost.
But fears are expressed that rich
Phillifs Exeter Academy.
107
chaps dominate the school in many
ways not open to faculty observation.
No foundation for such fears exists.
Abbot Hall exerts more influence
than Gorham and all other boarding;-
places combined. It is to be regret-
ted, perhaps, that family and wealth,
in some respects, have so little in-
fluence. For it is idle to assert that
the banding together of a large
number of indigent students favors
the fullest development. "Heavily
ironed with poverty," the bo}' who
spends four years in Abbot Hall
needs the occasional company of his
more generously nurtured rival. The
wealthy boy at Exeter is generally
liberal and gentlemanly.
For many reasons it is better to
enter the school as a "Prep." One
comes in at a favorable period of life.
Young, eager, and impressionable, he
"catches on" to the beat and tick of
the course, and sooner warms and
thrills with the great heart of the
beardless democracy. And his alma
mater deals tenderly with his juvinal-
ity and inexperience, and if he remains
under her brooding wings, whispers
secrets never imparted to those who
come after their bloom and freshness
have vanished.
What special advantages has the
academy over a good high school ?
Seemingly none, except to such boys
as desire an exceptional fit for col-
lege, and yet, now and then, parents
will be found reasoning something
after this fashion : Any one of our
high school cities or towns is a small
place so far as area goes, and the boys
generally come in contact with a single
cultivated male instructor, meet few
exceptionally bright shoolmates, hear
the same ideas uttered on every side.
entertain the same opinions, and lead
the same home lives. But the mo-
ment one enters P. E. A. chapel it is
a new world. A corps of trained
teachers, able men, who are neither
priggish, affected, nor unhealthy in
body or mind, confront him. Bright
lads from every part of the country
challenge attention, and show him
differences in ways, thoughts, and
speech.
Is the academy suitable for all
boys? Perhaps not. "The disci-
pline is not adapted to boys who
require severe restrictions." The
naturally shrinking, with few excep-
tions, may do better in their home
neighborhoods. Too much has been
said in favor of toughening timid
boys. Then there is a class whose
rugged minds will bear a good deal
of disentangling and explanation. It
doesn't seem to do any harm to make
their progress easy, since, if well
started, they are sure to dwell long
enough to get the needed discipline.
To whom does the academy offer
special advantages? To the boy en-
dowed with health, determination,
and ambition, the advantages cannot
be over-estimated. It is well for the
academy boy whose circumstances
and aims demand unrelieved applica-
tion if he has enjoyed a year's com-
panionship and rivalr}' with bright
high school girls.
It is possible that a return to the
old system of boarding in private
families would protect many boys
from evil influences. It is well, how-
ever, to remember Dr. Arnold's con-
clusion, that the inevitable time of
trial in boys' lives might be more
quickly and safely passed in the fit-
tins: schools than elsewhere. And it
io8 Camp 1 071, N. H.
is likely that the old system had its But let me tell you, future Exonian^
special defects. The very poor would Hervey, like John Buncle's Ralph
certainly find it impossible to pay Hawkwell, keeps an excellent eating-
even the reasonable charges of pri- house, where you may enjoy social
vate families. There is a growing suppers and get choice things after a
belief that an academy faculty might walk out on the Hampton road or a
furnish the family influence wanting pull on the river, provided, all the
in the dormitories. while, you have the rem., and if you
Even Mrs. Ruggles's tart-stand have not, though you were an apostle
would not flourish here. The boys of a boy, Hervey would have verj
average at least seventeen years, little regard for vou.
CAMPTON, N. H.
The following letter will explain From this there would seem to be
itself : no doubt that Jabez is either a cor-
New Bedford, Mass., i-^pt tradition, or an error of the
March 25, 1887. copyest. A reference to the original
To the Editor of the Granite Monthly : record, if it is accessible, would show
There is a little point of local his- whether the latter is the case or not.
tory in New Hampshire which may This statement of Mr. Patterson's
be of interest to some of your read- seems also to meet the objections of
ers. All the published accounts of Rev. Mr. Hazen, in his centennial
the settlement of Campton agree in discourse at Plymouth, N. H., in
saying that the original grant of the 1865, as to the early date assigned
township was to Gen. Jabez Spencer, for the settlement of Campton. He
of East Haddam, Conn. Now D. W. refers to the statements in the Gaz-
Patterson, Esq., who is thoroughly eteer, that the first settlers came to
acquainted with the records of East the town in 1763, or, according to
Haddam, and with the history of the Rev. Isaac Willey, in 1762, and says
town, in a recent letter to me, says, — the evidence is not conclusive. But
"You may put it down for certain the fact that Jared Spencer died in
that there was no Gen. Jabez Spen- the latter year, on his return from
cer in P^ast Haddam. There was New Hampshire, is pretty good evi-
Gen. Joseph Spencer, but he served dence that he had visited the site of
through the war, and died in 1808. his grant in that year. The date of
His brother, Jared Spencer, was born his grant was 1761, and although on
Nov. 5, 1718, and died at East Wind- account of his death a new charter
sor, Conn., when forty-four years old, was granted in 1767, it is probable
on his way homeward from New Hamp- that some pioneers had settled in the
shire. Joseph and Hobart (two of town before that date,
the early settlers of Campton) were Respectfully etc.,
without doubt his sons, and Hobart Henry Willet.
married, August 22, 1763, Eunice
Barnes."
SL John, N, B.
109
WAS ST. JOHN, NEW BRUNSWICK, FOUNDED BY SETTLERS
FROM NEW HAMPSHIRE?
New Hampshire Names a?nong- the Pioneers,
Treasury Department,
Fourth Auditor's Office,
March 14, 1884.
J. N. McClintock, Esq.
Dear Sir: In exphiuation of my
interest in tlie subject noticed in tlie
enclosed, I would state tliat I am in-
terested in obtaining the history and
genealogy of families of Old Mon-
mouth county, New Jersey. Think-
ing that possibly some of the Loyal-
ists who left in 1783 might have
carried away items of family histor}^
I commenced a series of articles in
the Daily Sun, of St. John, giving
sketches of the ancestry of New Jer-
sey Loyalists who settled in that
vicinity, and asking descendants for
such additional information as they
might possess. These articles have
called forth a number of letters from
"our cousins over the border" who
descend from settlers who came from
other places than New Jersey. In
looking up the origin of the pioneers
of St. John, so far as I have been
able, I am satisfied that nearly or
quite all came from New Hampshire,
instead of Massachusetts and Con-
necticut, as usually stated, and that
the error occurred because the pio-
neers sailed from a Massachusetts
town. I give the pioneers' names,
and trust your local historians and
genealogists will give some additional
information on the subject. As the
Quinten family is about the oldest
there, and the first child born there
was a Quinten, I am anxious to ob-
tain some items about the family of
Hugh, as also are his descendants at
St. John. I cannot find here any
histories of Chester or of Rockingham
and Cheshire counties.
Yours truly, Edwin Salter.
The first exploration of the river
St. John was made by a party which
left Massachusetts, 1761, led by
Israel Perley. They proceeded to
Machias by water, and on through
the woods to Oromecto, descended to
the river St. John. Of the Mauger-
ville settlement Mr. Perley was the
founder. He died in 1813, in his
seventy-fourth year. The 28th of
August, 1762, James Simonds, James
White, Jonathan Leavitt, Francis
Peabody, Hugh Quinten, and others,
twenty in all, including families, ar-
rived at St. John from Newburyport.
On the evening of their arrival, James,
son of Hugh Quinten, was born at
Fort Frederick, western side of the
harbor. The year previous. Fort
Frederick (old Fort Latour) had been
garrisoned by a Highland regiment,
and a survey made of the harbor of
St. John by Capt. Bruce of the Royal
Engineers.
Mr. Simonds, who came in 1762,
erected his dwelling on the ruins of
an old French fort — Portland Point.
At the Upper cove (Market slip),
Jonathan Leavitt built a schooner as
early as 1770, and named her the Min-
nequash, the Indian name of the penin-
sula, afterwards Parr-Turn and now
St. John. Messrs. Simonds, White,
and Leavitt married daughters of
Francis Peabody, and settled at
Maugerville, on the river St. John.
His will was proven and registered
the 2.5th of June, 1773; James Si-
monds, judge of probate; Benjamin
Atherton, register.
In 1763 came a large party, among
them Perleys, Barkers, Burpees,
no
SL John, N. B.
Coys, Pickards, Crystys, Hartts,
Estys, Nevers, Palmers, Smiths,
Easterbrooks, and others. All set-
tled at Maugerville, on the St. John
river, some seventy miles above St.
John.
In 1783 the Loyalists landed at St.
John, and in J. W. Lawrence's inter-
esting little book, entitled "Foot
Prints or Incidents in the Early His-
tory of New Brunswick," the names
of about 1,500 persons are given to
whom town lots were assigned. Most
of these belonged to well known fam-
ilies of New England and the Mid-
dle states. A "Colonel Glazier" is
named among pioneers of St. John ;
perhaps he was the " Bearrasly Gla-
zier" whose heirs were granted a
town lot 1783, with the Loyalists.
In resfard to the first settlers of St.
John and Maugerville named above
as settling there 1761-'63, the first
English in the province of New Bruns-
wick, it is certain that some were
from New Hampshire. Mr. John
Quinten, an aged, respected citizen
of St. John, says in regard to the
father of the first child born there, —
"My grandfather, Hugh Quinten,
was a grantee of both Parr-Turn and
Carleton (now St. John). In an old
family Bible I find it recorded that
Hugh Quinten was born in Cheshire,
New Hampshire, in 1741 ; that Eliza-
beth Cristy was born in Londonderry,
N. H., in 1741, and that Hugh and
Elizabeth were married in 1761."
If this Hugh Quinten was the same
named in the Granite Monthly , March,
1884, in the sketch of Windham, as
having been a soldier in the Old
French War, he must have enlisted
when quite a youth. But in the Rev-
olutionary War, in some of the prov-
inces, all boys sixteen years old were
required to do military duty. The
Cheshire named in the family Bible
was probably the town now known as
Chester, which was originally called
Cheshire. Among the first settlers
of this place (named in N. H. Pro-
vincial papers, Vol. II) was James
Quenten, of Scotch Irish descent.
Was Hugh a son of this James ? Is
there any record giving any informa-
tion of the families of James and
Hugh? Mr. John Quinten, who is a
son of Jesse, and grandson of Hugh,
says there is a tradition that Hugh
left behind two half brothers named
Joshua and Jonathan. In Adams's
History of Fairhaven, Vt., mention
is made of a Josiah Quinten, origi-
nally of New Hampshire, who went
to Whitehall, N. Y., and subsequently
settled in Fairhaven, Vt.
The Cristys who settled in St.
John went from Londonderry, N. H.,
and were probably descended from
the Peter Cristy named as an early
Scotch Presbyterian settler in Parker's
History of that place. There was a
Jesse and a Thomas Christy among
the first settlers of St. John. Matthew
Taylor, an early settler of St. John,
and one of above named grantees of
1783, was also from Londonderry.
These names would lead to the sup-
position that perhaps others named
were also from New Hampshire.
Nathaniel Burpee, a soldier of the
Old French War, settled at Candia,
N. H. As Burpee, Quinten, and
perhaps others, while soldiers in that
war, had visited what is now known
as New Brunswick, their reports may
have induced the first settlers to go
there after peace was declared. Capt.
Francis Peabodv, who went to New
SL John, N, B.
Ill
Brunswick, 17G2, judging from his
name, was probably a descendant of
the Lieut. Francis Peabod}'^ who came
to America in 1635 in tiie ship Planter :
the Peabody family was quite numer-
ous in New Hampshire when St. John
was founded. Jonathan Leavitt seems
also a New Hampsliire name ; John
and Thomas Leavitt were early set-
tlers of Dover, — the first was at that
place about 1645, — and Leavitts are
named at Chichester, Effingham, and
other places. Easterbrook and Esty
or Estes were also New Hampshire
names. Joseph Easterbrook, of En-
field, Middlesex county, England,
settled at Concord, N. H., 1660, and
the family name occurs at Acworth
and Amherst about the time of the
Revolution. About the first of the
Esty family in this country was Rob-
ert, born in Dover, P^ngland, May
28, 1645, and son of Matthew of
that town ; Joseph Esty or Estes
was at Dover, 1732-'40 ; he married
Mary, daughter of Peter Robinson,
1719. Elijah Estes was also at Dover,
1757. James White is named among
the Scotch Irish Presbyterians at
Londonderry, and the same name is
found among the first settlers of New
Brunswick. Benjamin Atherton was
among the original settlers there, and
his is also a well known New Hamp-
shire name. Israel Perley was a
pioneer in New Brunswick, 1761.
Allen Perley, the founder of this
family, came from London, 1635, in
the ship Planter, and descendants
settled at Duubarton, N. H. Barna-
bas Barker, named at Scituate, Mass.,
who married 1719, had descendants
who went to New Hampshire, and a
Barker was among the pioneers at
St. John. Of the others named.
Palmers, Simonds, Odell, and Smith
were common New Hampshire names.
Among the pioneers of St. John are
named a Coy, a Hartt, and a Nevers.
Were these names found in New
Hampshire, 1761-'63? There was a
Richard Nevers and wife Martha
named at Woburn, Mass., 1689.
Matthew Coy is named at Boston,
1653, said to have come over 1638.
The name 3/cCoy is found in early
New Hampshire records, an Alexan-
der McCoy, from the Highlands of
Scotland, being among the early set-
tlers of Londonderry. Hart is a
common New Hampsliire name, but
the St. John pioneer spelled his name
Hartt.
In the long list of names of Loyal-
ists, given in Mr. Lawrence's book,
to whom town lots were granted in
St. John in 1783, are a number fa-
miliar in New Hampshire. Included
in this list are found the names of
some who preceded the Loyalists.
Though a number of the founders
of St. John and Maugerville sailed
from Newburyport, Mass., yet it is
certain that some were from New
Hampshire. The writer is not suffi-
ciently acquainted with the local his-
tories of towns of the state, and gen-
ealogies of families named, to express
a decided opinion in regard to the
majority of these pioneers, but from
what has been stated he is inclined
to believe that nearly or quite all
went from New Hampshire, and from
places not far from the Merrimack
river. Can any reader of the Granite
MonthUj give any information of the
persons named?
Last year the descendants of the
Loyalists at St. John celebrated the
Centennial of the landing of their
ancestors, and it awakened an inter-
est in descendants of those who pre-
ceded the Loyalists in their own
ancestry.
112
Book Notices^ Etc.
About Money and Other Things.
A Gift-book. By the Author of
• "John Halifax, Gentleman." Pp.
vi, 234. 12rao, cloth, 90 cents.
Miss Muloch discourses with sound
common-sense on the practical topics
she has chosen for her essays about
money, life and its work, genius, sis-
terhoods, and the Irish question ; and
her words are so direct and natural
that they seem to come from the lips
of a friend and not from a printed
sheet. The short stories which form
half the book are bright and interest-
ing., full of good advice and helpful
suggestions. — Boston Advertiser.
In the Wrong Paradise, and Other
Stories. By Andrew Lang, Au-
thor of " Custom and Myth," &c.
Pp. 256. 16mo, half cloth, GO cents.
Since Elie Berthet wrote his won-
derful stories on The Prehistoric
World, no volume of archaeological
fiction (to coin a term) has been writ-
ten that will bear comparison with
this extraordinary collection of stories
by Mr. Lang. It is a clever thiny; to
write a romance laid at the close of
the glacial epoch, but when that ro-
mance is replete not merely with the
riches of ethnology and tradition, but
rich with satire and even pathos, the
work is more than clever — it is won-
derful. ... To the layman, the
downright fun, the originality, the
wisdom of these tales will successfully
appeal for sympathy ; to the scholar,
above all to him who dabbles in folk-
lore and ethnology, they are a never-
ending spring of jnire delight. — Com-
mercial Bulletin, Boston.
Their Pilgrimage. By Charles Dud-
ley Warner. Richlv illustrated by
C' S. Reinhart. Pp.' viii, 364. 8vo,
ornamental cloth, $2.00.
No more entertaining travelling:
companions for a tour of pleasure
resorts could be wished for than those
who in Mr. Warner's pages chat and
laugh, and skim the cream of all the
enjoyment to be found from Mount
Washington to the While Sulphur
Springs. . . . His pen-pictures
of the characters typical of each re-
sort, of the manner of life followed
at each, of the humor and absurdities
peculiar to Saratoga, or Newport, or
Bar Harbor, as the case may be, are
as good-natured as they are clever.
The satire, when there is any, is of
the mildest, and the general tone is
that of one glad to look on the bright-
est side of the cheerful, pleasure-
seeking world with which he mingles.
. In Mr. Eeinhart the author
has an assistant who has done with
his pencil almost exactly what Mr.
Warner has accomplished with his
pen. His drawings are spirited, catch
with wonderful success the tone and
costume of each place visited, and
abound in good-natured fun. — Chris-
tian Union, iV. Y.
LOCALITIES IN ANCIENT DO-
VER.
BY JOHN R. HAM, M. D.
A few corrections need to be made
in this article, which has been printed
in the last three numbers of this mas-
azine.
On page 364, vol. ix, Charles Point
should be Charles's Point.
On page 365, right-hand column,
ninth line from top, in should be into.
Page 367, left-hand column, twelfth
line from top, Payal's should be Hoy-
al's.
Page 367, left-hand column, fourth
line from bottom, Varnay's should be
Varney's.
Page 367, right-hand column, nine-
teenth line from top, Haye's should
be Hayes's.
Page 367, right-hand column, twen-
ty-second line from top, 1649 should
be 1694.
In vol. X, page 8, left-hand column,
fifteenth line from top, in should be
into.
Vol. X, page 8, left-hand column,
fifteenth line from bottom, strike out
the word Wecohamet.
Vol. X, page 11, right-hand column,
second line from bottom, for they read
it, and for confirm read confirms.
Publisher's Department.
113
C. C. BRIGGS & CO.
A few weeks ago it was our for-
tune to be escorted through the ex-
tensive manufacturing establishment
of C. C. Briggs & Co., by the senior
member of the firm, and it was an
occasion of so much interest that the
memory of it is very pleasant to re-
call.
Mr. Briggs is a quiet, well informed
gentleman, who seems to take pleas-
ure in exhibiting his factory and
warerooms, and in answering the
slain. Java and the islands of the
East furnish the close-grained ebony.
Australia sends to America its finest
wool, from which is made the felt for
the hammers. For the elaborately
ornamented cases the forests of the
tropics and of the temperate zone
are drawn upon for their choicest
woods. Iron from Norway, copper
from Lake Superior, silver from Ne-
vada, copal from Brazil, and the com-
mon woods of New England, are
many questions which a novice may
ask. Never before did we realize the
amount of skill, labor, and science
called into exercise in designing and
building a modern piano-forte. It
may well be called a triumph of me-
chanical skill. To the construction
of it the most widely separated coun-
tries of the globe contribute of their
products. Africa furnishes her quota
in the polished ivory, to obtain which
great herds of elephants are annually
i,.'isr.irc"'i,iii!,!l^
gathered together, and under the
skilled hands of busy (artisans are
modelled and united into the modern
piano, the joy of the home circle.
The factory where the Briggs
pianos are finally made ready for the
market is situated in Boston, at No.
5 Appleton street, near Tremont
street. Here are made the Briggs
Upright, Grand, and Square Piano-
Fortes, ready for the market. Out-
side the city are several establish-
114
Publisher's Department.
-*•
ments which contribute to the piano, shire, there is a factory where the
Id the thriving village of Lisbon, on sounding-boards for these pianos are
the banks of the Ammonoosuc river, made. Out in Cambridge is situated
in the northern part of New Hamp- the factory where is made the heavy
Publisher's Department.
"5
wood-work which enters into the con- ers and artists attest the substantial
struction of the piano. The home progress of the firm in their impor-
factory is the place where the prod- tant art. The principal aim of Messrs.
ucts of the outlying establishment are Briggs & Co. is to make a first-class
brought together and finally united piano in every respect, with special
into a beautiful whole, — the Briggs attention to its lasting qualities. By
Piano. constant care, experiment, and en-
From a Boston contemi)orary the deavor, Messrs. Briggs & Co. have
following facts have been collected : brought their instruments to the high-
Among the houses which have con- est standard of excellence, and in the
tributed to making this city an im- opinion of those who have used them
portant centre in the production of they are the nearest approach to per-
fection yet attained.
The piano scales are
drawn by Mr. C. C.
Briggs, who has had
practical experience
in piano building for
aquarter of a century?
and his scales, drawn
years ago for other
firms, are in use to-
day. The new style
cases of this house
are wholly original in
^design, and made of
the most durable and
^ fashionable woods.
Among upright styles
are their famous cot-
musical instruments is that of C. C. tage pianos, which, by thoughtful and
Briggs & Co, To accommodate the patient study and experiment they
increased demand for their instru- have brought to a wonderful degree
ments, Messrs. Briggs & Co. have of perfection, securing a small piano
removed from their former location, embodying the qualities of volume.
No. 1125 Washington street, to their fulness, and sweetness of tone of
commodious and substantial six story the larger sizes. Messrs. Briggs &
factory, No. 5 Appleton street. This Co.'s separable piano is one of the
enterprising firm manufacture several most ingenious inventions for facil-
styles of upright, grand, and square itating the moving of the larger
piano-fortes, with many new features sizes of pianos through passages and
and improvements in the scales and doorways otherwise impassable. The
styles, and the success of their instru- cases are each divided into two verti-
ments and the commendation they cal sections front and back. Tlie
have everywhere received from deal- style A, cottage upright piano, has
ii6
Publisher'' s Department.
three strings to a note, overstrung
bass with repeating action, handsome
panels, round corners, plain trusses,
ivory keys, and improved music rack.
Style Gr is also three strings to a note,
overstrung bass and repeating action,
with handsome panels and carved
trusses, ivory keys and improved
music rack, and has an exceedingly
fine, rich quality of tone and even
scale, and is the most desirable size
rosewood, plain, and serpentine mold-
ings on plinth, and Agraffe treble.
Messrs. Briggs & Co. furnish a war-
ranty with every piano sold, warrant-
ing for five years from date of sale.
Mr. C. C. Briggs, the senior mem-
ber of the firm, is a native of Boston,
brought up and educated in the city.
He is a natural musician, and for
many years was choir-leader in a
metropolitan church. Before starting
BRIGGS SEPARATE PIANO.
for the parlor. Style B has in addi-
tion a brass action rail, four pilasters
and moulding in front, extra hand-
some panels, ivory keys, and improved
music rack, and is the favorite of
artists for its great volume and purity
of tone.
Style D, square, has four round
corners, richly carved legs and lyre,
French action and top dampers, solid
in business for himself he served a
long and faithful apprenticeship with
some of the leading manufacturers of
musical instruments of that day, and
entered upon his work fully prepared
and equipped to build up and conduct
a great piano manufacturing estab-
lishment. In him were combined a
fine musical ear, inventive and me-
chanical abilitv, the skill to handle
Publisher's Department.
117
tools and work out his designs, and
business and executive ability to suc-
ceed in what he should undertake.
He has this advantage over the most
of his rivals, that he is thoroughly fa-
miliar with every detail of the busi-
ness. Unlike most workmen he can
build a piano from the raw material,
tune it, and then sell it, which latter
becomes the easiest task to perform
on account of the many merits of the
instruments. The Briggs piano meets
a want in the community which it fills
to perfection. It is at once a fine
instrument, and one within the reach
of all who can afford a good thing.
The prices are tlie lowest consistent
with thorough workmanship and the
best materials. The stock is received
in the basement, and thence carried
to the upper story by a commodious
freight elevator ; thence its course is
downward, story by story, until it
reaches the warerooms on the first
floor, a large and commodious room,
filled with finished products of the
factory. These pianos are very pop-
ular with the people, as shown by the
thousands in use in every part of our
country, and the Briggs pianos are
as well known as any made.
A SKETCH OF ONE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE'S MOST ENTER-
PRISING BUSINESS CONCERNS.
In 1871 Mr. p:dd. F. Higgius made
a beginning in a small store in Man-
chester, N. H., which has grown into
the largest house-furnishing store in
the state. Soon after starting, he
perceived that the city of Manchester
and the surrounding country needed
an establishment at which good, hon-
est goods could be purchased at
reasonable prices, and set to work
with the end in view of gradually
building up and maintaining such an
establishment. He soon associated
with himself his brother, Mr. H. F.
Higgins, under the firm name of Hig-
gins Bros., and *o their small stock
of crockery, cutlery, &c., they began
to add the cheaper grades of furni-
ture, at the same time increasing the
size of the store bv taking additional
room from time to time as needed.
In February, 1878, having carefulh'
felt their way along amid the break-
ers of the business depression then
sweeping over the country, they de-
cided tliat the generous support given
by the puBlic warranted them in still
further catering to the wants of their
patrons. Accordingly, after leasing
the entire building of Wells block, in
which they were situated, they fitted
up in the basement a carpet room,
the best in the state, and opened a
large and varied assortment of car-
petiugs, which venture proved an
immediate success. During the sum-
mer following the floor area of the
main store was nearly doubled by
adding the next store north of theirs,
and, the partitions being removed,
they had the largest and handsomest
store not only in Manchester, but in
the state.
Still their increasing trade, and the
desire to please an appreciating pub-
lic, urged them on to greater efforts.
They began the manufacture of up-
holstered furniture ; their carpet de-
ii8
Publisher's Department.
partment was moved from the base-
ment to the floor above, thus affording
better light for the display of these
goods, and making it easier of access
to purchasers ; their means for man-
ufacturing and finishing cabinet fur-
niture were increased so far as their
always limited room would allow ;
their force of competent workmen
was augmented, and every effort was
made to keep abreast of the times.
At this juncture they opened a
branch establishment in Concord,
N. H., and under the able manage-
ment of Mr. W. C. Patten, their
former head clerk, who now entered
the firm of Higgins & Patten, a pros-
perous business was transacted for
two years, when, owing to the ill
health of Mr. Patten, this branch of
the business passed into other hands.
They now more clearly than ever
saw in the near future the necessity
of having still more commodious
quarters and enlarged facilities for a
constantly growing business. Vari-
ous plans were thought of, discussed,
and rejected ; all feasible projects
for securing the needed accommoda-
tions were eagerly scanned and then
given up, until just as it was almost
decided to remodel the building in
which they were situated, the City
Hotel, one of Manchester's best
known landmarks, was offered for
sale, and seeing in its purchase the
consummation of a long coveted
scheme, they quickly seized the op-
portunity, and in July, 1884, the old
City Hotel passed into their hands,
and became devoted to their uses.
After several months' labor and
the expenditure of a large sum of
money, it was fitted for their busi-
ness, and was occupied by them in
October, 1884. The first floor front
is devoted to crockery, china, glass,
silver-ware, and kindred goods. Pass-
ing from the crockery department
towards the rear, and ascending a
short flight of broad steps, one enters
the best lighted and most commodi-
ous carpet room in the state of New
Hampshire. Here may be found im-
ported and domestic carpetings and
rugs, in many grades and styles, and
hard to suit is the person who cannot
here find what he searches for. Pass-
ing to the next floor above, the pui*-
chaser, or visitor (for visitors are
always welcome^, is in the midst of
a bewildering array of easy chairs,
patent rockers, divans, and parlor
suites, and after entering the drapery
department one sees displayed up-
holstery goods, lace curtains, and
drapery material in profusion, luxu-
rious Turkish chairs, and the finest
of parlor furniture, upholstered in
plushes, spun silks, damasks, and
various beautiful coverings. After
resting and feasting one's eyes, the
ascension of another flight of stairs
brings one where lovers of fine cabi-
net work may see an elegant lot of
chamber suites, side-boards, parlor
and library tables, mirrors, book-
cases, desks, and all the things which
are needed to make a home perfect
in its appointments.
The firm had now nearly reached
the goal of its ambition, that being
to have a perfect house-furnishing
establishment ; but the senior mem-
ber, notwithstanding his success in
establishing and maintaining such a
prosperous business, became desirous
of seeking "fresh laurels in pastures
new," and on the 1st of February of
the present year he sold his interest
in the business to Messrs. W. C.
Patten and H. P. Crowell, whose
long experience well fits them for the
positions they now occupy in the
concern. They, together with the re-
maining partner, Mr. H. F. Higgins,
have put the business on a still firmer
and more lasting basis by organizing
a stock company, with the name of
Higgins Brothers Company, and in-
corporated March 14, 1887. The
new concern propose not only to
maintain the high reputation of the
former firm, but to add to its lustre
so far as possible by giving their
l)atrons more and better goods for
their money than ever. Their wide
experience enables them to purchase
Publisher'' s Department.
119
and construct their goods at the low-
est possible cost. Their upholstering
is all done by first-class workmen,
under their personal supervision, and
every piece of furniture is guaranteed
as represented. Mr. Crowell's long
connection with the wholesale crock-
ery and glass trade, and more recently
with the furniture trade, eminently
fits him for the business, and Mr.
Patten's connection with the old firm
as book-keeper and head salesman
for years is a sufficient guaranty
that all purchasers may safely en-
trust their orders to him. At the
present time, although the season is
so backward, they have connected
with their establishment, in various
departments, twenty-two persons,
producing and selling goods, and
their enterprise well merits the suc-
cess in the future that has resulted
from their efforts in the past.
Furniture^ Carpets^ Crockery^ Drapery.
P^^^^^^^^^P^^-' HSFKICK.S"
Old City Hotel refitted and remodelled, tiius making the largest, handsom-
est, and most convenient store in New Hampshire, corner Elm and Lowell Sts.
The Largest and Best Stock of House Furnishing
Goods North of Boston.
Hioro-ins Brothers Co.,
Manchester, N. H.
American History, Statesmanship, and Literature.
Logically compact in structure and development, scholarly and readable in thought and
style, and withal pervaded by a lofty ethical spirit, thev mark a most decided advance in
modern English prose, and bid fair to settle many a literary question that has hitherto defied
the wisdom of the wisest. — The Independent.
American Commonwealths.
A Series of volumes narrating the rJstory of those States of the Union which have a
striking Political, Social, or Economical History.
Edited by Horace E. Scudder.
I. VIRGINIA. By John Esten Cooke.
II. OREGON. By William Barrows.
III. MARYLAND. By William Hand Bro^vnk.
IV. KENTUCKY. By N. S. Shaler.
V. MICHIGAN. By Thomas ,M. Cooley.
VI. KANSAS. By Leverett W. Spring.
VII. CALIFORNIA. By Josiah Royce.
(Other volumes in preparation.) Each volume, i6mo, gilt top, $1.25.
American Statesmen.
A Series of Biographies of Men conspicuous in the Folitical History of the United
States.
Edited by John T. Morse, Jr.
I. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. By John T. Morse, Jr.
W. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. By Henry Cabot LoDGB,
III. JOHN C. CALHOUN. By Dr. H. von Holst.
IV. ANDREW JACKSON. By Prof. Wm. G. Sumner.
V. JOHN RANDOLPH. By Henry Adams.
VI. JAMES MONROE. By Pres D. C. Oilman.
VII. THOMAS JEFFERSON. By John T.Morse, Jr.
SIW. DAN'IEL WEBSTER. By Henry Cabot Lodge.
IX. ALBERT GALLATIN. By John Austin Stevens.
X. JAMES MADISON. By Sydney Howard Gay.
XI. JOHN ADAMS. By John T. Morse, Jr.
XII. JOHN MARSHALL. By Allan B. Magruder.
XIII. SAMUEL ADAMS. By Tamfs K. Hosmer.
XIV., XV. HENRY CLA Y. By Carl Schurz. [Nearly Ready.)
<Other volumes in preparation.) Each volume, i6mo, cloth, gilt top, $1.25.
American Men of Letters.
A Series of Biographies of Distinguished American Authors.
Edited by Charles Dudley Warner.
I. WASHINGTON IRVING. By Charles Dudley Warner,
II. NOAH WEBSTER. By Horace E. Scudder.
IW. HENRY D. TH0RE.au. By Frank B. Sanborn.
IV. GEORGE RIPLEY. By Octavi us Brooks Frothingham.
V. JAMES FEN I MO RE COOPER. By Prof. T. R. Lounskurt.
VI. M.ll^GARET FULLER OSSOLI. By T. W. HiGGiNSON.
VH. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. By O. W. Holmes.
^\\\. EDGAR ALLAN POE. By G. E. Woodberry.
IX. NA THANIEL PARKER WILLIS. By H. A. Beers.
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THE
RANITE neNTHLY.
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
'Devoted to Literature, biography. History, and State Progress.
Vol. X.
APRIL, 1887.
No. 4.
JOHN STARK.
The name aud fame of John Stark,
the sturdy soldier and Indian fighter
of the " Seven Years French War" of
1754 to 1760, and the successful pa-
triot commander of the war of the
Revolution, is no new theme to the
people of his native state of New
Hampshire. The two generations
that succeeded him, and in their turn
passed off the stage of life, have, in
their day, and according to the meth-
ods of their times, honored and re-
vered his memory. The third and
fourth generations are now on the
stage. To them the memories of his
times are dimly legendary or histori-
cal ; but they do not forget that to
the heroes of 1776 this great nation
of sixty millions of people owes its
birth and growth.
This is a monumental age. The
public spirit of the people honors
itself by honoring and perpetuating
the memory of the fathers and de-
fenders of the country. Enduring
monuments in bronze and granite, or
marble, are being erected by every
state of the Union, in memory of citi-
zens whose services in military or
civil life have tended to save and
maintain the liberties of the people.
New Hampshire is not forgetful as
to her own part of this reverential
duty. At the last session of the
legislature the following resolution
was introduced in the senate by Hon.
Henry O. Kent, member from sena-
torial district No. 1, and after refer-
ence to the Committee on Military
AlTairs, it was favorably reported
upon, and adopted by both houses,
viz. :
Resolved, That his excellency the
governor be requested to designate
some suitable person, whose duty it
shall be to make inquiry into the
matter of erecting, at an early date,
a fitting monument or statue in mem-
ory of Major-Geuerai John Stark, at
his burial-place in the city of Man-
chester, the expense of carrying out
any such specified plan or plans, and
how much of said sum or sums would
be raised by the descendants of Gen-
eral Stark and by the city of Man-
chester, contingent upon the payment
of the residue by the state, — and
make report of his doings in the
premises ; said report to be laid be-
fore the legislature at its next bien-
nial session.
122
yohn Stark.
Under the authority of this resolu-
tion, George Stark, of Nashua, was
commissioned to investigate the sub-
ject, and his report will be made to
the governor and council before the
meeting of the next legislature.
The design which he will recom-
mend is a bronze equestrian statue,
of heroic size, mounted on a suitable
granite pedestal, the bronze work
being about twelve feet and the gran-
ite work eighteen feet high, making
the whole monument about thirty feet
in height. He will also recommend
that it be placed on the spot where
Gen. Stark was buried, about oue
mile north of the City Hall in Man-
chester, on the east bank of the
Merrimack river.
This spot was selected by Gen.
Stark himself for his burial-place.
It is upon elevated ground overlook-
ing the river, and the monument,
when erected upon it, will be con-
spicuously visible from the railroad,
as well as from the street which runs
parallel to the river, past the old
Stark place. A square of two acres
has been reserved, and will be pre-
sented to the state for this purpose,
if the design is carried out. The
very artistic design which will accom-
pany the report of the commissioner,
and be recommended by him, we
show an outline copy of in the accom-
panying engraving.
Many biograpliers have written the
life of John Stark. His connection
with the earlier events of the country
has made his name familiar to read-
ers of American history. But such a
brief review of his career as may be
compressed into the limits of a maga-
zine article will, under the existing cir-
cumstances, possess fresh interest.
The Stark family of New Hamp-
shire descended from Archibald
Stark, a Scotchman, born at Glas-
gow in 1697. He was educated at
the university of his native city, and
when twenty-three j'ears of age came
to America with the Scotch-Irish
emigrants who settled Londonderry.
He afterwards removed to Derryfield,
now Manchester, where he died in
1758, and was buried in what was
known as "Christian's Brook Ceme-
tery," a private burying-ground, on
land now built over in the city, — the
few remains of persons buried there,
with the accompanying head-stones,
having been removed to other ceme-
teries. A quaint, low head-stone of
slate, in the south-westerly corner of
the "Valley Cemetery" of the city
of Manchester, is one of those that
were thus removed. It bears this
inscription :
Here Lyes the Body of Mr.
Archibald Stark He
Departed this Life June 25th
1768 Aged 61 years.
Stark is a German name, and is
said to have been brought to Scot-
land about four hundred years ago,
in the reign of Henry Vllth of Eng-
land, by German soldiery, who were
sent over by the Duchess of Bur-
gundy to support the claims of one
of the pretenders to the English
throne. The invading army being
defeated, the survivors fled to Scot-
land, and some of them settled per-
manently in that country, and are
supposed to be the remote ancestry
of the Stai'ks of New Hampshire.
Archibald Stark had four sons, —
William, John, Samuel, and Archi-
bald, — all of whom held commissions
in the British service during the
yohn Stark.
123
"Seven Years" or "French War,"
and were distinguished for good eon-
duct, coohiess, and bravery.
John Stark, one of the above
named brothers, and the subject of
this roemoir, was born in London-
derry, August 28, 1728. He resided
with his father in Londonderry and
Derry field until past his minorit}',
their home occupation being that of
farmers and millers. The father
owned extensive tracts of land about
Amoskeag falls, and was also one of
the original proprietors of Dunbarton,
then called Starkstown. Saw-mills
and grist-mills were built and run by
John Stark at both these places.
The settlements being at this time
sparse, and surrounded by intermina-
ble forests, abounding in game and
ferocious animals, every young man
of the settlers was naturalh^ a hunter,
and quite as familiar with wood-
craft and the chase as he was with
the implements of agriculture, or the
saws and stones of the mill. It was
also a time of semi-war. The fierce
remnants of the native Indian tribes,
although nominally conquered at
Love well's fight in 1725, still con-
tinued to haunt tiieir ancient hunting-
grounds for at least forty years later.
The settler was obliged to be in readi-
ness at all times to defend the lives
of his family from the predatory sav-
age, and his herds and flocks from
the bears and wolves and catamounts
of the forest.
Amid such surroundings, and daih^
accustomed to hardship, vigilance,
and laborious exertion, the young
boys grew into that stern and vigoi'-
ous manhood which the necessities of
the times required. Winter hunting
expeditions to more remote parts of
the wilderness were often organized
for hunting and trapping the fur-
bearing animals, whose peltries found
ready sale for exportation, and the
proceeds of which added materially
to the family resources.
It was on one of these hunting ex-
peditions, in March, 1752, that a
party of four, of which John Stark
was a member, was attacked by the
Indians on Baker's river in the town
of Rumney. David Stinson was shot
and killed : William Stark escaped ;
John Stark and Amos Eastman were
captured, and taken through the wil-
derness to the upper waters of Con-
necticut river, and subsequently to
St. Francis, in Canada, where they
arrived in June, three months after
their capture. The bold and defiant
bearing of Stark during this captivity
excited the admiration of his savage
captors to such an extent that he was
adopted by the chief sachem and
treated with great kindness, after the
first initiatory ceremony of running
the gauntlet, in which ceremony he
took an unexpected part by using his
club on the Indians, instead of wait-
ins; for them to use their clubs on
him. On being set to the task of
hoeins: corn, he carefully hoed the
weeds and cut up the corn, and then
threw the hoe into the river, declar-
ing that it was the business of squaws,
and not of warriors, to hoe corn. His
boldness secured his release from the
drudgery usually imposed on their
captives, and they called him the
"young chief."
Durino; this enforced residence with
the Indians, he obtained a knowledge
of their language and methods of
warfare which proved of great ser-
vice to him in his subsequent military
124
yohn Stark.
career. He was ransomed for $103
in Jul}', and arrived home in August
following, having been absent about
six months.
Not daunted by the unfortunate
enterprise above narrated. Stark went
the following season to hunt and trap
on the river Androscoggin, in the
present state of Maine, for the pur-
pose of raising means to pay the debt
incurred for his ransom from the St.
Francis Indians. In this he was suc-
cessful, and returned with a valuable
lot of fur.
The reports brought in by Stark
and Eastman concerning the beauty
of the country about the upper waters
of the Connecticut i-iver, induced the
anthorities of the province to dispatch
an enlisted company, under Col. Love-
well, Maj. Talford, and Capt. Page,
to explore this hitherto unknown re-
gion, which they called ''Coos Terri-
tory," and John Stark was engaged
to guide the expedition. They made
the journey from Concord, N. H., to
Piermont and return in about two
weeks.
The next year, 1754, a report being
current that the French were erecting
a fort at the upper Coos, Capt. Pow-
ers was dispatched by Gov. Went-
worth, with thirty men and a flag of
truce, to demand their authority for
so doing. Mr. Stark was engaged
as guide, and conducted the party by
the same route he had travelled two
years before as a captive. No French
garrison being found, the company
immediately returned.
Mr. Stark had acquired so much
reputation by these expeditions that
upon the breaking out of the "Seven
Years War" he was commissioned by
the governor as second lieutenant
of Rogers's Company of Rangers,
attached to Blanchard's regiment.
Capt. Rogers mustered a company of
rugged foresters, every man of whom,
as a hunter, could hit the size of a
dollar at a hundred yards distance ;
could follow the trail of man or beast ;
endure the fatigue of long marches,
the pangs of hunger, and the cold of
winter nights, often passed without
fire, shelter, or covering other than
their common clothing, a blanket,
perhaps a bearskin, and the boughs
of the pine or hemlock. Their knowl-
edge of Indian character, customs^
and manners was accurate. They
were principally recruited in the
vicinity of Amoskeag falls, where
Rogers, a resident of the neighboring
town of Dunbartou, Avhich then ex-
tended to the Merrimack river, was
accustomed to meet them at the an-
nual fishing season. They were men
who could face with equal resolution
the savage animals, or the still more
savage Indians of their native woods,
and whose courage and fidelity were
undoubted.
This year of 1755 was one of the
most eventful of the early American
history. It marks the fatal defeat of
the disciplined little army of the in-
trepid but despotic Gen. Braddock,
who said that the savages might be
formidable to raw American militia,
but could never make any impression
upon the king's regulars ; but who,
had he survived the fight, would have
seen the remnants of his boasted reg-
ulars saved from utter annihilation
by the bravery of these same Ameri-
can raw militia, skilfully and valor-
ously handled by the young American
militia colonel, George Washington.
It was in the early summer of this
John Stark.
125
stirring year of 1755 that Rogers's
Company of Rangers received orders
to march through the pathless forests
to join their regiment at Fort Ed-
ward, the head-quarters of Gen.
Johnson's army, which place they
reached early in August, a short time
before the desperate attack made on
Johnson by the French and Indians
at the south end of Lake George,
near Bloody pond, so named from
the slaughter on this occasion. Ban-
croft's History, in referring to this
company of rangers, says, — "Among
them was John Stark, then a lieuten-
ant ; of a rugged nature, but of the
coolest judgment; skilled at discov-
ering the paths of the wilderness, and
knowing the way to the hearts of the
backwoodsmen." Whether Rogers's
Company of Rangers was engaged in
this fight at Bloody pond is a matter
of some uncertainty. Rogers says in
his journal that he was himself "on
a scout about one of the French posts,
up the Hudson river," at the date of
this fight — September 8th. Probably
a part or all of his company were
with him. During the remainder of
the season, and all through the win-
ter, into March, 1756, although the
regiment to which they were originally
attached had been disbanded, the
Rangers remained in the field, and
were sent at frequent intervals to out-
lie and watch the enemy's posts, and
to obtain information, by capturing
prisoners or otherwise.
Upon the decease of Gen. Brad-
dock, Gov. Shirley succeeded to the
chief command of the English forces
in North America, and on the 15th
of March, 1756, Rogers received or-
ders from him to repair to Boston for
a personal conference. He reached
Boston on the 23d of the same month,
and as the result of his interview
with the governor was commissioned
to recruit an independent corps of
Rangers, to consist of sixty privates,
an ensign, a lieutenant, and a cap-
tain. The corps was to be raised
immediately. None were to be en-
listed but "such as were accustomed
to travelling and hunting, and in
whose courage and fidelity the most
implicit confidence could be placed."
They were, moreover, "to be subject
to military discipline and the articles
of war." The rendezvous was ap-
pointed at Albany, " whence to pro-
ceed with whale-boats to Lake George,
and from time to time to use their
best endeavors to distress the French
and their allies by sacking, burning,
and destroying their houses, barns,
barracks, canoes, batteaux, &c., and
by killing their cattle of every kind,
and at all times to endeavor to way-
lay, attack, and destroy their convoys
of provision, by land and by water,
where they could be found."
Within thirty days from the issu-
ance of this commission the enlist-
ment of the new corps of Rangers
was complete, many of his old com-
pany reenlistiug, and Rogers again
selected John Stark for his ensign,
or second lieutenant. Although no
important military operations were
attempted during this campaign, the
Rangers were constantly on foot,
watching the motions of the enemy
at Crown Point and Ticonderoga,
cutting off their convoys of supplies,
and often making prisoners of senti-
nels at their posts.
Bancroft's account of the campaign
says, — " The Rangers at Fort William
Henry defy the winter. The forests
126
yohi Stark.
pathless with snows, the frozen lake,
the wilderness which has no shelter
against the cold and storms, the
perilous ambush where defeat may
be followed by the scalping-knife, or
tortures, or captivity among the far-
therest tribes, — all cannot chill their
daring. On skates they glide over
the lakes ; on snow-shoes they pene-
trate the woods."
In the early part of the winter of
1756-'57, the English and French ar-
mies, under the respective commands
of Lord Loudon and Gen. Montcalm,
confronting each other in the vicinity
of Lake George, retired to winter
quarters ; the main body of the Eng-
lish regulars falling back on Albany
and New York city, the provincial
soldiers dismissed and sent to their
homes, and the French falling back
to Montreal. Each general, how-
ever, left his frontier posts well gar-
risoned, to be held as the base of
further military operations the fol-
lowing season ; the force left by
the French at their forts about Ticon-
deroga and Crown Point, at the
northerly end of Lake George, being
about 1,200 men, including Indians,
and the English force at Fort Edward
and Fort William Henry, near the
southerly end of the lake, consisting
mainly of four companies of Rangers,
two companies at each fort. The
company of Lieut. JStark was posted
at Fort Edward. All through the
winter the Rangers patrolled the
lake, and kept a vigilant outlook
upon the French garrisons.
In the middle of this winter a des-
perate battle was fought in the imme-
diate vicinity of Ticonderoga, which,
for numbers engaged, was one of the
most bloody of the war, and in which
Lieut. John Stark won his commis-
sion as captain.
On the 15th of January, 1757,
Capt. Rogers, with Lieut. Stark and
Ensign Page with fifty Rangers, left
Fort Edward to reconnoitre, in more
than usual force, the situation and
condition of the enemy at the north-
erly end of the lake. The snow was
four feet deep on a level. They
halted at Fort William Henry one
day to secure provisions and snow-
shoes, and on the 17th, being re-
enforced by Capt. Spikemau, Lieut.
Kennedy, and Ensigns Brewer and
Rogers, with about thirt}^ Rangers,
they started down Lake George on the
ice, and at night encamped on the east
side of the first narrows.
On the morning of the 18th some
of the men who had been ovei'cora'e
by the severe exertions of the pre-
vious day's march were sent back,
thus reducing the effective force to
seventy-four men, officers included.
This day they proceeded twelve miles
farther down the lake, and encamped
on the west shore. On the 19th,
after proceeding three miles farther
on the lake, they took to the west
shore, put on their snow-shoes, and
travelled eight miles to the north-
west, and encamped three miles from
the lake. On the 20th they travelled
over the snow all day to the north-
east, and encamped three miles from
the west shore of Lake Champlain,
half wav between Ticonderoga and
Crown Point. The next day, January
21st, being now in the very heart of
the enemy's country, they proceeded
to watch the passage of parties on
Lake Champlain, going and coming
between the forts, and soon discov-
ered a convoy of ten sleds passing
yohn Stark.
127
down the lake from Ticonderoga to
Crown Point. Lieut. Stark was or-
dered, with twent}' men, to capture
the leading sled, while the main body
attempted to prevent the others from
going back. They succeeded in tak-
ing seven prisoners, six horses, and
three sleds. The remainder of the
sleds made good their escape, and
gave tlie alarm at the fort. Valuable
information was obtained from these
captives, and it was also learned that
the French garrisons had been re-
cently considerably reenforced, and
were on the alert to cut off all Eng-
lish scouting parties. The heavy
French sjarrison at Ticonderoga being
now informed by the fugitives of this
audacious reconnaissance in their im-
mediate vicinity, Rogers wisely de-
cided to retire with all expedition.
But he unwisely departed from the
usual custom of the Rangers to return
by a different route from that on
which they came, and, in defiance of
the counsels of his officers, retreated
on his tracks.
The day was rainy. On reaching
the fires that they had kindled and
camped by the night before, the
Rangers halted to dr}' their guns and
otherwise prepare for the expected
conflict. It was past noon when the
little battalion had completed their
preparations. Forming in single file,
with Capt. Rogers in front, Capt.
Spikemau in the centre, and Lieut.
Stark in the rear, supported by their
snow-shoes on the deep snow, they
silently took up their homeward
march. Their path lay over hilly
ground and through thick woods,
from whose dark depths they had
reason to believe they were watched
bv the savage scouts of the enemy ;
a belief but too soon verified, for on
rising the brow of a hill, not a mile
from the fires of their late camp, they
received a volley of two hundred bul-
lets, fired from the guns of the un-
seen enemy in ambush, at distances
from five to thirty yards away.
Rogers was wounded in the head,
and several of the men were killed or
wounded by this volley ; but fortu-
nately the marksmanship of the
enemy was, in this instance, faulty,
and the effect comparatively slight.
The habitual tactics of the Rangers, —
to scatter when suddenly attacked by
a superior force, and to rally again
upon some supporting point, — now
stood them in hand. They had been
under fire too many times to be
thrown into a panic. Each man was
for the time being his own command-
er. Each took his own way to the
rallying point, exchanging shots with
the enemy as he ran. That rallying
point was John Stark, with his rear
guard. Gathering around him, they
awaited their pursuers. The sur-
rounding trees of the thick forest
were of large size. Each Ranger
endeavored to so place himself that a
tree covered him partially from the
shots of the enemy, and thus they
awaited the second onset. No sol-
diers ever had more at stake. The
French officials at Montreal paid $11
each for English scalps, and $55 each
for English prisoners — sufficient in-
ducement to excite the savage cupid-
ity of their Indian allies into desper-
ate efforts to kill or capture ; and
oftentimes the alternative fate of a
prisoner was torture at the stake.
The backwoodsman learned to give
no quarter, and to expect none, in
fighting this savage foe.
128
John Stark.
All through the afternoon of this
21st of January, 1757, this woods
fight raged. The Ranger measured
carefully his charge of powder, ram-
med home the ball in a greased patch,
and woe to the enemy who exposed
his body or limbs to these expert
marksmen. Two hundred and fifty
of the enemy went into that day's
fight, and only one hundred and
thirty-four came out of it alive, one
hundred and sixteen having been
killed on the spot or died of wounds.
The Rangers lost fourteen killed, six
wounded, and six taken prisoners.
As darkness came on, the surviving
French and Indian force, although
still outnumbering the English, re-
tired to the cover of Ticouderoga.
Capt. Rogers having been disabled by
two wounds, and Capt. Spikeman
killed, early in the action the com-
mand devolved upon Lieut. Stark,
who, as soon as the enemy ceased to
press him, carefully looked after the
wounded, secured the prisoners, and,
taking both wounded and prisoners
with him, commenced the tedious
march homeward. Encumbered by
the care of the wounded, and fatigued
with the exertions of the day, their
movements were necessarily slow,
and the entire night was consumed in
reaching the shore of Lake George,
near where they left it on the 19th.
The wounded, who during the night
march had kept up their spirits, were
by eight o'clock in the morning so
overcome with cold, fatigue, and loss
of blood that they could march no
further. The nearest English post
was forty miles away, and the enemy
was less than ten miles in their rear,
and might again attack them at' any
time. In this emergency Lieut. Stark
volunteered, with two Rangers, to
make a forced march to Fort William
Henr}' for succor, while the command,
under the junior officers, undertook to
defend and care for the wounded
until help arrived. Without waiting
for rest or refreshment after their
all-day fight and all-night retreat,
these three hardy volunteers con-
tinued on their march, and reached
the fort the same evening. Hand-
sleighs were immediately sent out,
with a fresh party, to bring in the
wounded, and reached them next
morning. No greater feat of hardi-
hood and endurance was ever per-
formed ; a day of desperate fighting,
followed by an all-night retreat, en-
cumbered with the wounded, and
then, without rest, these three volun-
teers making a forced snow-shoe march
of forty miles more before night.
Truly this school of war was a fitting
preparation for the subsequent strug-
gle of the Revolution. The decision,
prudence, and courage of Stark ad-
mittedly saved the detachment from
complete destruction, and he was
immediately promoted to be a captain,
filling the vacancy caused by the
death of Capt. Spikeman.
Capt. Stark continued with the
army during the succeeding campaigns
of 1758 and 1759, his corps being
constantly employed in their accus-
tomed service, and winning credit
and commendation from the generals
in command.
In 1758 Capt. Stark obtained a
short furlough for the purpose of vis-
iting his home, and while there was
united in marriage (August 21, 1758)
to P^lizabeth, daughter of Capt. Caleb
Page, one of the original proprietors
of Duubarton, N. H.
yohn Stark.
129
The conquest of Canada, in 1760,
put an end to military operations in
Nortii America, and Capt. Stark, not
being desirous of continuing in tiie
British army, tendered his resigna-
tion, which was accepted by Gen.
Amherst, with the official assurance
that if inclined hereafter to reenter
the service he should not lose his
rank by this retirement. But fate
determined that the experience thus
gained by him during five years' ser-
vice under the banner of the king of
England was but the requisite soldierly
education which fitted him to success-
fully lead his compatriots against the
same English banner in the Revolu-
tionary struggle for the independence
of his native laud.
From 1760 to 1765 Capt. Stark re-
mained at his home, devoting his
attention to the cultivation of a large
farm in Derryfield. and to the man-
agement of his other lauds and his
mills, both in Derryfield and Dunbar-
ton, in which latter town he was also
a large proprietor.
When the country became seriously
agitated in 1774 upon the abridgment
of its liberties by the crown, he uni-
formly espoused the cause of his
countrymen, and from his military
experience and respectable standing
was looked up to as the natural leader
of, the patriots of his vicinity. He
was appointed as one of the Commit-
tee of Safety, and discharged the
difficult duties devolving upon him
with firmness and moderation, en-
deavoring to the utmost of his abili-
ties to promote union of sentiment,
and preparation for action should
that become necessary.
The news of the Battle of Lexing-
ton on the 19th of April, 1775,
reached Capt. Stark the next morn-
ing. He was at work in his saw-mill.
Without a moment's hesitation the
mill-gate was closed, and he returned
to his house, a mile distant, changed
his dress, mounted his horse, and
proceeded towards Med ford, encour-
aging all that he met to join him
there, telling them that the time had
arrived when a blow should be struck
for liberty. He was followed by
many of his old soldiers and hundreds
of citizens, who answered his appeal
to their patriotism. And when the
preliminary organization of the first
New Hampshire regiment was made
by election, it was so much a matter
of course to choose Stark for their
colonel, that the vote, a hand one,
was unanimous. This election was
afterwards confirmed by a commis-
sion from the state authorities.
The story of the Battle of Bunker
Hill is an oft told tale. It will not
be repeated in this paper ; but we
may properly dwell upon the fact
that the steady and cool courage of
John Stark was one of the important
factors in that engagement. His
men were brought into action without
fatigue. Their deadly work at the
rail-fence, on the Mystic river side of
the hill, so nearly annihilated the
veteran British regiment immediately
opposed to them, that, believing they
had won the day, they obeyed the
orders to retire with unwillingness ;
and the deliberate manner in which
they covered and defended the final
retreat held the enemy in check, and
undoubtedly prevented a rout.
After the evacuation of Boston,
Col. Stark was ordered, with two reg-
iments, the 5th and 25th, under his
command, to proceed to New York
[30
yohn Stark.
and assist in arranging the defences
of that city. He remained at New
York until May, 1776, when his regi-
ment, with five others, was ordered
to march by way of Albany to Canada.
He joined the army at St. Johns, and
advanced to the mouth of the Sorel.
Various unsuccessful movements were
made by this army in Canada, under
the successive commands of Gener-
als Thomas, Arnold, Thompson, and
Sullivan, culminating in a retreat to
Crown Point and Ticonderoga. Gen.
Gates soon after this assumed the
chief command, and assigned a bri-
gade to Col. Stark, with orders to
clear and fortify Mount Indepen-
dence.
When the British army under Carle-
ton had retired to winter quarters in
Canada, Col. Stark's regiment, with
several others, was detached from
the Northern army to reenforce Gen.
Washington at Newtown, Penn. He
arrived a few days before the battle
of Trenton, where, leading the van
of Sullivan's division, he contributed
his share in that fortunate victory.
In giving his opinion at the council of
war preceding the battle of Trenton,
Col. Stark observed to Washington, —
"Your men have too long been accus-
tomed to place their dependence for
safety upon spades and pickaxes. If
you hope to establish the indepen-
dence of these states, you must teach
them to place dependence upon their
fire-arms and courage." Col. Stark
remained with the commander-in-
chief until his winter quarters were
established on the heights of Morris-
town, when, the term of his men's
enlistment having expired, he returned
to New Hampshire to recruit another
regiment.
In March, 1777, the new regiment
was completed ; but Stark did not
take command of it. Certain promi-
nent members of congress, and offi-
cers of high rank, and aristocratic
associations, more familiar with the
polite usages of town society than
with the simple manners of the fron-
tier settlers, were displeased with the
rugged and unbending character and
blunt speech of this backwoods col-
onel, and used their influence against
him with such effect, that in the new
list of promotions, made that winter,
by congress, his name was omitted,
and several officers of lower rank were
promoted over him. This slight was
so keenly felt that he immediately
tendered his resignation to the New
Hampshire authorities, and retired,
temporarily, to his home. He was
not however destined to remain long
inactive. Within three months fi'om
his retirement, the menacing state of
affairs following the capture of Ti-
conderoga by the British, and the ad-
vance of Burgovne's army, threaten-
ingto overrun the New England states,
called him again to the field. New
Hampshire rose to the emergency, and
raised a brigade for independent ac-
tion against the flank of the invading
arm^^ At the request of the state
council. Stark accepted their com-
mission as brigadier, and took com-
mand ; and within two weeks from
the capture of Ticonderoga, he was
organizing and drilling his force for
the coming fra}'.
The battle of Bennington, fought
and won on the 17th of August, 1777,
by the little army of 1750 men, under
his command, has been made familiar
to all readers of history. Of this
force, New Hampshire furnished 1000,
John Stark.
131
Vermont 500, and Massachusetts 250.
Stark's plan of battle was sagacious ;
somewhat irregular in its details, as
looked upon from the usual military
standpoint, but perfectly adapted to
the frontier habits of his brave men ;
and it proved eminently successful.
The enemv lost, in killed, wounded,
and prisoners, about 1200 men — prob-
ably two thirds of his entire force
in action. The loss on the American
side was less than 100. The disci-
plined pjuropean troops, fighting for
the king's shilling, moving at the
word of command like machines, and
firing their muskets from the hip
without aim, were no match, even
when partially protected by cannon
and breastworks, for the skilled
marksmen of the frontier, fighting for
their homes.
The Bennington battle, in point of
numbers engaged, was not a great
one ; but it turned the tide of war at
a critical period, and led to immediate
results of momentous consequence to
the country. Washington wrote of it,
immediately, as " the great stroke
struck by Gen. Stark near Benning-
ton." Bancroft's history pronounces
this "victory one of the most brilliant
and eventful of the war." Baroness
Reidsell, then in the British camp,
wrote, "this unfortunate event par-
alyzed at once our operations."
On the 18th, two days after this
battle. Gen. Stark forwarded his re-
port, in detail, to the council of New
Hampshire, and by return courier re-
ceived the following letter :
State of New Hampshire
In Committee of Safety
Dear Sir ;
The Committee received
vours of the 18th instant with the
greatest pleasure, and have directed
me to present their very sincere thanks
to you, the officers and soldiers under
your command, for their brave and
spirited conduct, manifested in the
late battle, and for the very essential
service done to the country at this
critical period. I hope, sir, that this
success may be a prelude to greater
things of the same kind ; and that
heaven will yet bestow many bless-
ings upon our country, through your
hands.
Fervently praying that the God of
armies may protect you in the day of
battle, and be a shield and buckler to
our countrymen under your command,
and that He may give success and vic-
tory to all your undertakings, I do,
on behalf of the Committee, subscribe
myself
Your most obedient
And very humble servant
M. Weare, Chairman.
Hon. General Stark.
The state of Vermont also address-
ed to Gen. Stark the following com-
plimentary letter.
From the President of the Coun-
cil of Safety of the State of Ver-
mont.
Bennington Sept 20th 1777.
The Council beg leave to return
their sincere thanks to the Hon. Brig.
Genl. John Stark for the infinite ser-
vice he has been pleased to do them,
in defending them and their constitu-
ents from the cruelty and bloody rage
of our unnatural enemy, who sought
our destruction on the 16th of August
last.
They also return their grateful ac-
knowledgments for the honor the gen-
eral has been pleased to do the Coun-
cil by presenting them with one Hessian
gun with a bayonet ; one broad-sword,
one brass barreled drum, and a gren-
adier's cap, taken on the memorable
16th of August, for the use of the
State.
The general may rely upon it they
132
yohn Stark.
will be reserved for the use they were
designed.
I remain, dear general,
With sentiments of esteem.
Your most Obt. Svt.
Thomas Chittenden.
Hon. Brigadier General Stark.
The legislature of Massachusetts
also sent their acknowledgments in
the following letter and resolve :
To General Stark.
Sir ; The general assembW of
this State take the earliest opportuni-
ty to acknowledge the receipt of your
acceptable present — the tokens of vic-
tory gained at the memorable battle
of Bennington. The events of that
day strongly mark the bravery of the
men who, unskilled in war, forced
from their iutrenchments a chosen
number of veteran troops of boasted
Britons, as well as the address and
valor of the general who directed
their movements, and led them on to
conquest. This signal exploit opened
the way to a rapid succession of ad-
vantages, most important to Amer-
ica.
These trophies shall be safely de-
posited in the archives of the State,
and there remind posterity of the
irresistable power of the God of
armies, and the honors due to the
memory of the brave. Still attended
with like success, may you long en-
joy the just reward of your grateful
country.
I have the honor to be.
Your obedient servant,
Jeremiah Powell,
President of the Council.
In the House of Representatives.
Resolved, unanimously ; That the
board of war of this State be, and are
hereby directed, in the name of this
Court, to present to the Hon. Briga-
dier General Stark, a complete suit
of clothes becoming his rank, together
with a piece of linen, as a testimony
of the high sense this Court has of
the great and important services ren-
dered by that brave officer, to the
United States of America.
Dec. 5 1777."
General Stark did not report to
congress the result of the battle of
Bennington, because his command
was an independent one, and his com-
mission was from the state of New
Hampshire. His little army consist-
ed wholly of state militia from New
Hampshire, Vermont, and Massachu-
setts.
The same parties, who had a few
months previously withheld his pro-
motion, were now busy in denouncing
his independent action. ^
Philadelphia being in possession of
the British, congress held its sessions
at the more remote point of York:, in
Pennsylvania. Communication was
slow, letters being carried by cour-
iers, on horseback, who were obliged
to make long detours because of hos-
tile intervening country.
Upon receipt of the news that Gen.
Stark was acting independently of
the regular Northern army, and being
yet unaware of the victory that had
been won by him five days before, a
resolution was introduced in congress
censuring him for not submitting to
army regulations.
But on the next day an express
courier arrived from Gen. Schuyler
communicating the result of the Ben-
nington battle ; and congress, raag-
nanimousl}' forgetting the previous
irritation, passed a resolve of thanks
to General Stark, and appointed him
a Brigadier in the army of the United
States. This action of congress was
communicated in the following let-
ter :
'John Stark.
133
To General Stark from President
Hancock.
Yorktown, Pa., Oct. 5, 1777,
Sir : — It is with tlie greatest pleas-
ure I transmit the inclosed resolve of
Congress, expressing the thanks of
that body to you, and to the officers
and troops under your command, for
the signal victory you obtained over
the enemy in the late battle of Ben-
nington.
In consideration of your distin-
guished conduct on that occasion,
and the service you rendered the
cause of freedom and your country,
the congress have been pleased to ap-
point you a Brigadier in the army of
the United States.
Be pleased to communicate to the
officers and troops of your command
this mark of the approbation of their
country, for their exertions in defence
of American liberty.
I inclose your commission, and
have the honor to be, with the great-
est esteem and respect, sir, your most
obedient and vei-y humble servant,
John Hancock, President.
Soon after the Bennington battle,
Gen. Stark, with his volunteers,
joined the main American army of
Gates ; but the three months' enlist-
ment of the men having expired, they
said they had performed their part,
and must return to their farms W'here
their harvests now waited for them.
The general being then without a
command, proceeded to New Hamp-
shire to make his report to the coun-
cil. His return was a triumphal
march. He was waited upon by
committees of congratulation where-
ever he came, and was received with
the warmest demonstration of the
people's gratitude.
By order of the Council of New
Hampshire, he immediately proceeded
to enlist a new army of volunteers ;
and such was the confidence in him
as a commander, and so enthusiastic
were the people, in view of the pos-
sible capture of Burgoyne, that, in a
few days, nearly 3,000 men enrolled
themselves under his standard.
With this fresh army of New
Hampshire volunteers, he immediate-
ly advanced, by order of the council
of that state, to Fort Edward, on
Burgoyue's rear. This fort he cap-
tured ; and after securing the garri-
son, and leaving a strong detachment
of his own troops to maintain the
post, proceeded, on the the 7th of
October, with 2,500 men, to occupy
the sole remaining line of retreat for
the British army.
By this movement Burgoyne be-
came completel}' surrounded, and
Gen. Stark earnestly advised Gen.
Gates to attack the British camp and
compel an unconditional surrender.
But a capitulation was deemed most
prudent, and Burgoyne soon after
delivered up his entire army at Sa-
ratoga, t
The capture of Burgoyne put an
end, for the time being, to military
movements at the north, and Gen.
Stark returned to New Hampshire to
obtain recruits and supplies for op-
erations elsewhere.
In December he received orders
from congress to repair to Albany
and prepare for a secret winter ex-
pedition to Canada. The Hon. James
Duane was directed by congress to
confer in person with Gen. Stark, and
communicate to him orally the secret
details of the proposed expedition,
and to consider with him the best and
most practicable means for its ac-
complishment. The conference took
place, the troops were engaged, sup-
plies were obtained of provisions,
134
John Stark.
snow-shoes, conveyances, and every-
thing required for a winter campaign,
when congress thought proper to
abandon the design.
Early in 1778 he was ordered to
assume the command of the Northern
Department, at Albany, where he re-
remained during the season.
In November he was ordered by
Gen. Washington to proceed to the
assistance of Gen. Gates in Rhode
Island ; and joining Gates soon after,
at Pi'ovidence, was stationed for the
remainder of the season at East
Greenwich. As winter advanced he
returned to New Hampshire, by way
of Boston, to urge the necessity for
recruits and supplies.
In the spring of 1779 he joined the
army at Providence, and was em-
ployed all that season in watching
the British army and preventing in-
roads. About the 10th of Novem-
ber the English sailed away from
Newport, and Gen. Stark took pos-
session of the towit the next morning,
placing guards to preserve order.
At this time Gen. Washington or-
dered Generals Gates and Stark, with
the troops who had blockaded New-
port, to join him in New Jersey ; and
soon after sent Gen. Stark to New
Hampshire to make requisitions for
troops and supplies. He performed
this service, and returned to the army
at Morristown, in May, 1780, and
took part in the battle of Springfield,
in June following. Immediately af-
ter this battle. Gen. Stark was sent
to New England, with orders to col-
lect a body of militia and volunteers,
and conduct them to West Point.
He arrived at that post with the troops,
a short time before Arnold's deser-
tion ; and, after delivering up the
reenforcement, joined his division at
Liberty Pole, New Jersey.
In September he was ordered to
West Point, to relieve Gen. St. Clair,
and the Pennsylvania line. While at
West Point, he was called upon to
participate in the trial of Major An-
dr6, being one of the thirteen gener-
als composing the military tribunal.
About this time, Washington had
formed the design of surprising Sta-
ten Island ; and to mask his inten-
tions, Gen. Stark was detached with
2500 troops, and trains of cavalry and
artillery, and forage teams, to overrun
the country north of New York, and,
if possible, to draw out and engage
the enemy. But the British were sus-
picious of concealed designs, and suf-
fered the detachment to pillage this
tory country, as far down as Kings
Bridge and Morrisauia, for several
days, and then to retire unmolested.
The Staten Island project was not car-
ried out. The army soon after went
into winter quarters at West Point,
New Windsor, and Fishkill, and Gen.
Stark, being severely ill, was sent
home on furlough, with the standing
order for men and supplies.
In the spring of 1781 he was or-
dered once more to assume the com-
mand of the Northern Department,
with head-quarters at Saratoga. There
was an extensive frontier to be
watched, and the country was overrun
by traitors and spies, some of whom
he was obliged to hang. With only
a few feeble detachments of militia
from New York, Massachusetts, and
New Hampshire under his command,
the duties of the general were both
onerous and unpleasant. After the
surrender of Cornwallis, all appre-
hensions of inroads from Canada hav-
'John Stark.
135
ing ceased, Gen. Stark was ordered
to dismiss his militia, and to himself
retire to New England to recruit,
and collect supplies for the next cam-
paign. Being at this time attlicted
with rheumatism, he remained at
home during the year 1782, and did
not return to the army until ordered
to head-quarters by Gen. Washington
in April, 1783. He arrived at the
appointed time, and was thanked by
the commander-in-chief for his punct-
uality.
On the 25th of November, 1783,
the British army evacuated New York.
The independence of the United
States had been acknowledged by the
British government, and the war was
ended. During the following month,
most of the Continental troops re-
turned to their homes ; and General
Stark, bidding adieu to his friends in
the army, and leaving behind the
cares of public life, retired to his New
Hampshire estates to spend the re-
mainder of his days in peace. He
was at this time fifty-five years of
age. Somewhat past the prime of
life of the average man, but with a
frame made strong by early vigorous
labors, and preserved by constant
exercise and temperate habits, a long
lease of life still remained to him.
He survived the Revolutionary war
nearly forty years, and to the last
was held by his neighbors and fellow*
countrymen in the highest esteem.
Washington had great confidence
in Stark, fully appreciating his firm
patriotism, his ability, and his influ-
ence with the people of New Hamp-
shire and the adjoining states. When
men or supplies were wanted from
these states, he generally sent him to
obtain them ; and was particular to
request that the new levies should
come out under Stark's command.
In appointing him commander of the
Northern Department in 1781, Wash-
ington wrote, "I am induced to ap-
point you to this command on account
of your knowledge and influence
among the inhabitants of that country.
* * * I rely upon it, you will use
your utmost exertions to draw forth
the force of the country from the
Greeu Mountains and all the contig-
nous territory. And I doubt not your
requisitions will be attended with suc-
cess, as your personal influence must
be unlimited among these people, at
whose head you have formerly fought
and conquered, with so much reputa-
tion and glory."
In 1786, Gen. Stark received from
congress the following compliment-
ary brevet commission :
In pursuance of an act of Congress,
of the 13th day of September 1783,
John Stark Esquire, is to rank as Ma-
jor General by Brevet in the army of
the United States of America.
Given under my hand, at New York,
the 9th day of June 1786.
(l. s.) Nathaniel Gorhara, President.
Entered in the war office
Henry Knox, Secretary of War.
After the war, he again took up his
extensive agricultural and lumbering
operations, managing his business af-
fairs with the same energy, industry,
and foresight that characterized his
military life.
In person. Gen. Stark was of mid-
dle stature (5 ft. 10), and well pro-
portioned for strength and activity.
Constant exercise prevented his ever
becoming corpulent. He always trav-
elled on horseback, even if accom-
panied by his family in a carriage ;
and at an advanced age mounted his
136
Ethel Freeman.
horse with ease, without other aid
than the stirrup. His features were
bold and prominent ; the nose was
well formed ; the eyes light blue, keen
and piercing, deeply sunk under pro-
jecting brows. His lips were gener-
ally closely compressed. He was not
bald ; but his hair became white, and
covered his head. His whole appear-
ance indicated coolness, courage, ac-
tivity, and confidence in himself,
whether called upon to perform the
duties of an enterprising partisan, or
a calculating and considerate gene-
ral.
His character was unexceptional in
his private as in his public life. His
manners were frank and open. He
spake his thoughts boldly on all oc-
casions, without concealment of his
meaning. He was a man of kindness
and hospitality, which, through life,
he extended to all his comrades in
arms, and to others who sought his
assistance. He ever sustained a rep-
utation for honor and integrity, —
frieudlv to the industrious and enter-
prising, but severe to the idle and
unworthy.
Gen. Stark survived his wife eight
years. They had eleven children, —
five sons and six daughters, — and all
except one reached the age of matu-
rity. His third son, John Stark, Jr.,
remained at home, married, and
raised a family of twelve children
at the old homestead. The vet-
eran general was thus surrounded in
his home by a numerous progeny, who
in his last years kindly alleviated the
infirmities of extreme age.
He died on the 8th of May, 1822,
aged 93 years, 8 months, and 24 days.
He was buried with military honors
at the spot where his remains now
lie, and where it is now proposed to
erect to his memory the elegant
equestrian bronze statue herewith rep-
resented. George Stark.
Note. — The material for tbis biograpliical sketch
has been drawn from numerous papers and books,
and more especially from the " Memoir and Otli-
cial Correspondence of General John Stark " by
his grandson, the late Caleb Stark, of Dunbarton,
N. H., edition of 1860.
ETHEL FREEMAN:
The Story of a Marriage that proved a Mistake.
By Ellen M. Mason.
IV.
There was a certain Mrs. Hamilton
whom George regarded with the high-
est approval, and who by degrees had
come to be his wife's intimate friend,
thouo;h at first Ethel had held aloof
from her advances from instinctive
distrust. She possessed no beauty,
but a wonderful personal magnetism
that made her irresistible to all who
felt the contact of her presence. And
to this she added rare attainments :
she was a finely cultivated musician,
an artist of no mean talents, and she
acquitted herself so finely in amateur
theatricals that it was said she might
have made a fortune on the stage ;
and she had written a successful nov-
Ethel Frccma7i.
137
el. Above all, she was diabolically
clever. All this gave her great pres-
tige in P . She was a widow of
the age designated as "youngish,"
childish, and she lived in elegant
rooms at the finest hotel.
Ethel had first felt an affection for
her on the occasion of a dangerous
illness of Florry, her oldest child.
She had come, and in her firmly gen-
tle manner insisted on staying at the
house and assisting in taking care of
the little girl ; and she had proven so
good a nurse, so self-sacrificing, sen-
sible, and etiicient, that Ethel could
not withhold a share of love and con-
fidence despite her intuitions. As for
Florry, she became a loyal, devoted
subject of her whilom nurse, accord-
ing her the blind, adoring worship
that innocent childhood lavishes on
its incarnation of perfection. Mrs.
Hamilton was perfection in her eyes.
She resolved she would grow up to
be like her as exactly as she could,
and she was never so happy as when
in the presence of her sovereign.
And Mrs. Hamilton, who had been
fawned upon and flattered all her
life, found the fresh, sincere love of
tlie child very grateful to her empty,
callous heart. She took great pains
to keep alive and increase her attach-
ment, both for its own sake and as a
means to secure a longed-for triumph
that no refreshing principle of right
or feeling of pity could force her to
forego.
Ethel in the meantime grew more
and more discontented. She was hav-
ing a bitter experience, that of feel-
ing her self-respect lessening day by
day. What was she beside this wise
and witty and bewitching woman?
Even her own child neglected her for
the sake of the other's society. Her
early training and education had
surely been all wrong. She was not sure
but that the fame of a Cleopatra was
after all more enviable than that of a
Cornelia. And how she had been
petted and made much of at home !
Could George realize how ditferent it
seemed in his home? At last one
evening her resolve was made. Mrs.
Hamilton was singing in the parlor,
while she sat nnperceived and for-
gotten in the adjoining partially dark-
ened library, to which she had with-
drawn ; her husband and Florry were
with the songstress.
She sang Mrs. Akers Allen's heart-
sick song. Rock Me to Sleep. Ethel
listened, her piteous heimweh growing
worse.
" Yet with strong yearning and passionate pain
Long I to-niglit for your presence again.
* * * * * ' ^
Overmy heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever lias shone;
Ko other worship abides and endures, —
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours! "
cried the thrilling voice, while tears
rolled down her unseen listener's face.
" I would like to go to New York
for a month or two," she said to her
husband at the breakfast table next
morning.
"■ But what should we do without
you ? " asked George ; and poor f^thel
thought his manner and tone showed
a studied concern, but betra^'ed a
real relief.
"You will do very well. I mean to
take Florry with me, and you know
Nurse is perfectly trustworthy with
the other children. Katy will take
good care of the house. I need the
change."
" But, mamma, I think I would
rather not go, if you please," said
138
Ethel Free^nan.
Florry. " I should like to stay where
I can see Mrs. Hamilton. Besides,
dear mamma," she added hastily,
"you know I am not really strong
yet."
"I wished very much to take you
with me, but if you prefer it you
may remain at home," said her moth-
er, surprised and hurt.
And so it was settled. Ethel went
home for a long visit, leaving Florry
behind ; and this, though more for
the child's sake than her own, she
afterward bitterly regretted.
At first, Mrs. Freeman was only
conscious of unmixed delight at beins;
once more in her childhood's home
for what seemed a very long and in-
definite period. Father and mother
were overjoyed at her presence : hav-
ing her there by herself seemed to
them like having back their Ethel of
the old times. It was a genuine
pleasure to find herself again the
cynosure of her former circle, and she
was pleased to see that she retained
her former prestige. In truth, her
girlish beauty was not faded, but per-
fected and grown richer. Her old
friends came flocking to see her —
most of her girl companions grown
matronly with blooming children, and
the men grown stouter and generally
bald — often curious to discover, if
possible, whether she had really cho-
sen wisely, and whetl^r her lot had
fallen in pleasant places.
But Ethel was loyal to the core.
Never by manner or least word or
tone of voice did she betray that her
husband or her home had proven less
than the most exacting could have
desired. Concerning the high-flown
ladies she was less reticent, making
fun to her heart's content of their es-
says on Greek and Latin and German
literature, and detailing their ponder-
ous conversation for the merciless
ridicule of her friends.
She found presently, however, that
she could not take up the old life
where it was left off. She was not
the same Ethel. The whole memory
of what had intervened, and the
change in her very nature wrought by
it, rendered the old life impossible.
She could never more be a young girl,
romantically longing to be an inspira-
tion to a world-weary man : she was
Jane Eyre no longer, but a full grown
woman with a sorrowful experiehce.
The girl had developed into the wo-
man ; the woman could not be re-
pressed into the girl.
The time of her return drew on
apace ; and was it strange, or only
natural, that she looked forward to
going back to her husband's home,
even to the despised city of P ,
with earnest joy fulness? She longed
to see the children, especially Florry —
she had so much to be thankful for
in them. And she and George would
talk honestly and unreservedly to-
gether of past mistakes and misun-
derstandings, and then begin life
anew. They should be happy to-
gether yet ; she was sure of it, and
she could hardly wait for the day of
her de|)arture, formerly so much
dreaded, so eager was she to begin
the new life with her husband.
When she reached the depot at
P , above the cries of the coach-
men and hack-drivers — the brethren
of the whip at P have their as-
pirations too, and make up in noise
what they lack in numbers, seeming
Ethel Free7)ian,
139
more like a veritable pack of wolves
than their prototypes in larger cities
do — she heard a shrill childish voice,
"O there's mamma, there's mamma ! "
Little Florence was there with her
father, waiting for her, and at once
Ethel discovered a change in the
child ; she did not look less strong,
but her face wore an expression that
had never been there before, a haunt-
ed, scared, almost agonized look, the
look that a creature battling with a
sorrow it could hardly comprehend
might wear. It made her mother
clasp her in sudden fear, and in
sharp self-reproach that she had left
her.
The meeting between husband and
wife was constrained as their parting
had been, though it was evident to
both that the other made an effort to
seem unaffectedly glad and happy.
Ethel would have been so but that a
strange dread at Florry's looks drove
all other feelings from her heart. She
made no effort to discover what was
troubling her during the day, but
when she took her on her lap at night
the child could restrain herself no
longer. She burst into a tempest of
sobs, and wept until Ethel was seri-
ously alarmed. "Tell me what is the
matter, darling," she said ; and as
soon as Florry could control her voice,
between gasping sobs, she told the
story of her trouble, a trouble that
froze her mother's heart as she lis-
tened.
Florry had begged Mrs. Hamilton
to come often to the house to see her
while her mother was away, and Ethel
had requested her to come there to
use her piano for her daily practising,
and to read in the library whenever
she wished. She had been there oft-
en, especially at twilight, so Florry
could hear her sing beautiful songs
and ballads before she retired. Her
father enjoyed it too, and Florry
had been so happy, until one night,
that dreadful night, when she sat in
the library listening to her singing in
the parlor, as Ethel had done the
night she resolved she would go away.
Mrs. Hamilton seemed sad, " lone-
some," Florry said, and sang such sad
verses — Ethel knew how she sang
them, O so well ! — that she cried
there alone in the half darkness.
Then she left off singing, and she and
her father fell to talking vaguely,
Florry listening not with the least in-
tent of meanness, but for the sake of
hearing the pleasant voice she loved
so well.
Florry was a precocious child. Her
mother had made her much a com-
panion, and she had ever been her
father's favorite among his children.
She understood the feelings and emo-
tions of grown people better than is
usual with children much older, so
was at no loss to repeat intelligently,
with full perception of its meaning,
the conversation of that dreadful
evening. They spoke of her mother,
Mrs. Hamilton affectionately, "but
as though she sort of pitied you,"
Florry said, and her father "as if he
hadn't any patience." " Then they
talked on a long time, and papa told
her how that you and he ought never
to have got married, and how that
you never were fitted for each other.
And he told Mrs. Hamilton that he
wished she were his wife, and how
that life would seem like heaven if
that were so. And then she said
that it would seem so to her too, and
how that she was very unhappy,
140
Ethel Freeman.
' most wretched,' she called it. And
then she cried, and, O mamma ! I saw
papa kiss her, and she put her arras
round his neck and kissed him; and
I thought I should die ! for I knew it
was wrong and wicked, and I knew
't would 'most kill you ! " and the lit-
tle girl began sobbing again. "■ By
and by she went away and papa went
with her. They had forgotten that I
was sitting in the library, and I crept
up stairs all cold, alone, to bed. I
would n't call nurse, fori did n't want
anybody to know what was the mat-
ter, nor how bad I felt. And O
mother I I thought you would never
come home. I did not dare to say a
word to papa, and if I could not have
told you pretty soon I think I should
have died."
Ethel sat very still as she listened
to her little girl's story, and her first
thought was for her. The child had
received a terrible shock, not alone
in the revealed character in which she
now saw her father, but the veil had
been rudely torn from her idol, her
ideal of perfected womanhood. Tiie
beautiful faith of childhood had de-
parted from her, and it would never
come again. She was very young to
suffer such a loss, but there was no
help for it. Mother and daughter
would bear the sorrow together now —
strange l)urden for a nine-years-old
daughter !— and Ethel soothed her as
best she could, telling her how sorry
slie was for what she had suffered,
and for what she had seen and heard ;
that she was much too young to know
such sad things, but that she could
be a great comfort to her in hel[)ing
iier to bear the trouI)le ; that she
should not feel so utterly alone, and
that there was no one else she could
tell ; that they must love each other
more than ever, and maybe after a
time it would not seem so dreadful to
them both. Then she heard Florry's
prayers, and put her to bed and left
her, and went down stairs to the par-
lor, where her husband was waiting
for her. On the stairs, she recalled
her mother's question long ago, — " If
I am right, if 3'ou should be wretched
and miserable, what should you do?"
and her answer, " If it should be for
worse all my life long, I would never
break my promise." " But I never
expected this, never this ! " she said,
fiercely.
Her husband arose when she came
in, and came forward, but he noticed
her stern face and haughty manner,
and dropped his arms extended to
embrace her. She stood before him,
and very quietly and coldly spoke of
their life together from the very first
until now ; of her mother's opposition
and iier own high hopes and great
love ; of his feeling of her inferiority ;
of her homesickness and discontent ;
of her visit in New York, and the re-
solve she had made to come back, to
a ])etter way of living ; then of Flor-
ry's revelation. She paused a mo-
ment, but George seemed stricken
dumb, and she went on :
"For the children's sake, and be-
cause I think it is right, no one but
myself and Florry shall know your
meanness. I shall write a note to
Mrs. Hamilton. She will never dark-
en my doors again. With all her
gifts and accomplishments I do not
envy her, nor do I envy you. You
have thought yourself and her my
superiors ; but there is no guilt on
my conscience, and you and she have
ruined my life."
Ethel Freeman.
141
VI.
For three years the life of the Free-
man's had gone on outwardly the
same as before, and yet not just the
same, for Ethel had come to be of
consequence in society, and was even
received with more favor than her
husband, who still remained a favor-
ite. She had discovered her one tal-
ent, and her friends had speedily
multiplied it many times for her. In
her disappointment and bitter chagrin
she had devoted herself to her chil-
dren's education ; in their studies she
found surcease of sorrow, and to her
own surprise developed the love of
study in herself. She became fond
of research, and then discovered that
she was capable of independent
thought — not so commonplace an at-
tribute in woman as might at first be
supposed — and of easy and original
expression. She read much and
wrote critical reviews of the new
novels. The P people said that
they had discovered that she pos-
sessed " a very analytical mind :"
once she wrote a political article that
they said showed she understood gov-
ernment.
But her literary achievements never
engrossed her mind ; they were only
a resource, never an object, and she
had no ambition save for her chil-
dren, that were the pride of her heart
and the only joy in her life. And
such children, so well behaved, so
rarely intelligent, and so refined,
could not but reflect credit on a moth-
er. She retained her housewifelv
ways ; her home was a model of com-
fort and good order ; she entertained
her husband's friends and her own in
right royal manner ; and her great
beauty became again a power that
made itself felt. People said, "Mrs.
Freeman is really wonderful ; a beau-
ty and a genius ; yet one of a practi-
cal disposition rarely to be met with,
really the greatest versatility of tal-
ents."
And so she found peace though not
happiness ; but her husband was
wretched. It had been his fate since
the humiliating disclosure of three
years before to love his wife more
and more, and all in vain. All
smiles and graciousness to others, the
wintry wind was not more cold than
she to him. Mrs. Hamilton had dis-
appeared from the zenith of society
and of his admiration ; the very
thought of her was hateful to him,
and he suffered remorse of conscience
as much for Florry's sake as for
Ethel's, for at the first he had visited
his wrath and displeasure on the li-ttle
girl. As she had been her father's
best beloved and most petted of the
flock, when the weak man called the
child a traitor, and accused her of
tattling and mischief-making, it near-
ly broke her heart. For a long time
after, he never noticed her by word
or look, shutting her out of the games
that he played with the other chil-
dren, never taking her to drive or to
walk when he took the others, utterly
neglecting her, or treating her with
contempt. " Papa never notices me
now," she complained to her mother
day after day, and when at last he
would have treated her more kindly,
a fear had grown up in the child's
heart that shut him out forever.
But he was reaping the whirlwind.
For a year Florry had seemed less
robust than of old, and at last they
knew that she would not" live. None
could fathom the mother's sorrow.
142
A Dozvn East Homer.
The strange bond between her and the
child had grown stronger as time had
flown. She felt that she was a thou-
sand times more to her than a child
to a mother. The little, tender, lov-
ino; heart was the one heart that knew
and understood and S3'mpathized with
her grief. If she lost her she was
bereft not only of her eldest born,
but of the one who possessed her full
confidence, her closest friend, the
only one who saved her from the
utter loneliness of her misery.
George kept constantly with his
daughter. In an agony of self-re-
proach for his past treatment, he tried
in everj'way to win back her love and
confidence. Florry treated him wist-
fully, looking at him often with eyes
that brought tears to his own, and
their remembrance wrung groans from
his breast at night. The past was
irrevocable ; strive as he might, there
was no restitution, no oblivion, pos-
sible to him.
Freedom from study, change of air
and scene, physicians' skill, were all
of no use. Florry died ; and by the
side of their still, eldest born, George
besought his wife to forgive him for
the past, to take him back, to give
him the chance to win her love once
more. "For Florry's sake, Ethel,"
he pleaded ; and Ethel promised, "For
Florry's sake, I will try."
And Florry reunited them ; but the
great earthly happiness they once
hoped for and expected they can nev-
er know. They are doubtless as
happy as most people, but often when
George sees the long yellow hair of
their living little girl flying down the
stairs or in and out of the rooms, he
thinks of another little girl with long
yellow hair, and shudders at the sud-
den remembrance " she is dead," feel-
ing a heavy load on his heart. And
often when her husband is kindest,
Ethel sees a little grave iu the beauti-
ful Forest City cemetery, and shrinks
shudderingly away from him.
A DOWN EAST HOMER.
By Isaac B. Choate.
There are many and striking points
of difference between the old Greek
bard, who wandered from place to
place reciting his rhapsodies wherev-
er a crowd of listeners would gather,
and his Down East successor, who
used to peddle his verses as merchant-
able wares through the country-sides
of the "District of Maine." So far
as the method of getting their works
into circulation is concerned, the dif-
ference may be accounted for by re-
ferring to the invention of printing.
Other marks of distinction between
Homer of Chios, or any other of the
seven cities which claims the honor
of being his birth-place, and Thomas
Shaw, positively of Standish, Maine,
must be variously explained. The
earlier poet sang of war, the later
piped of peace. Homer was blind ;
and no one can read the productions
of Shaw, unless in a state of suspend-
ed cogitation, without discovering that
A Down East Homer.
143
his muse at least was of a somewhat
owl-like vision.
At New York sales by auctiou of
books and other property, there have
appeared at rare intervals broadsides
of poetry by Thomas Shaw, of Stan-
dish, Maine. These have been cat-
alogued with much display, and with
unusnal fulness of description. They
have for years commanded prices in
the metropolis such as their author
never dreamed of askina; as he hawked
them about among the less appre-
ciative farmers among whom he lived.
They are good specimens, — and this
is all the merit they can now claim, —
of a species of literature that had its
day in this country a good many years
ago. Their value, however, for pur-
poses of illustrating certain phases of
New England life at the beginning of
this century, is scarcely affected by
the circumstance that they are un-
qualified doggerel.
We glean the little knowledge we
have of the author from his produc-
tions. Some of his more ambitious
pieces appeared in 1815, and he was
still hard at work in the same line
when Lafayette visited this country
in 1824. In a poem of twenty-four
stanzas inspired by the visit of the
French general, he tells us that he
was born before the close of the Rev-
olution :
"I and some Fathers still remain,
Who saw our Independence gain."
This tribute to the distinguished
visitor, records the fact that the poet
availed himself of the opportunity to
pay liis respects to the Nation's guest.
" He went from place to place in state,
And welcomed by small and great,
#**## »**
Whereof we heard and saw the same,
And can describe the man by name."
The author manifests in this poem
a great deal of bitterness towards
Great Britain. It was quite natural
that the appearance of Lafayette
should revive something of the old
spirit.
The plan of the work was to exhib-
it the career of Lafayette, and sing
his praises. Attention is directed
mainly to what he did for America in
the Revolution. The British troops
are represented as bees leaving their
hive to sting the Americans. Wash-
ington and Lafayette beat them off.
As this is all the play there is given
to the imagination in the whole com-
position, no one will find fault with
the simile. The part which our French
ally took is stated over and over again
in different terms, but it all amounts to
the same thing. A single stanza will
serve as a sample :
" On his expense he clothed men
Who stood as needy soldiers then,
Entering our service without pay,
To drive the British bees away."
Later on we are given a glimpse of
Lafayette contending for the liberties
of his own people :
" Until by chance in prison fell,
And troubles too he knew full well."
It is not difficult to discover the in-
fluence of the New England Primer
upon the poet's thought, if not upon
its expression. He cannot close this
encomium upon his hero without in-
dulging the reflection, —
" He's but a man when all i.s done,
All mortal men their course do run."
How faithfully this echoes the famil-
iar sentiment, —
•' Xerxes the Great did die,
And so must you and I."
The next piece is "• A Mournful
Song, occasioned by the shipwreck
144
A Down East Homer.
of the schooner Armistice, Captain
Douglass, on Cohasset rocks, August
31, 1815. ..bound from Portland for
Baltimore... on which occasion five
persons perished. By Thomas Shaw,
Standish." This occasional poem,
which its author calls "A Mournful
Song," is in a somewhat more lively
measure than is this poet's wont.
There was this about the old Puritan
heart, that it took a tremendous force
to move it ; but when the emotions
were once fully roused, the sluiceway
by which as a flood they found escape
was always regarded as necessarily a
poetic vein of feeling. Elegaic poe-
try afforded both the writer and read-
er pastime and recreation. It was
supposed to possess what was known
in pulpic phrase as an ''improving"
quality. Shaw evidently understood
the market value of the article, and
supplied the demand judiciously.
People in that age had no dread of
monopolies, and never dreamed of
boycotting a poet.
This particular composition is some-
what in the manner of the ballad.
The movement of the narrative is,
however, very unsteady. The moral-
izing is done at inconvenient and un-
expected intervals ; or, from another
point of view, it may be said that the
story is broken by reflections that are
wholly out of season. The measure
reminds the reader of ''The Ancient
Mariner." It is, of course, not im-
possible that so famous a ballad,
printed nearly twenty years before,
should be familiar to the poet. The
narrative is taken u[) at the seventh
stanza :
" My mournful poii.n; cloth take along
Douglass from I'orlland bay,
For to sail fast in August last
Upon the thirtieth day."
This was as far as the author could
get without indulging in some very
sad, but we may hope profitable, reflec-
tions. It is not until he reaches the
twelfth stanza that he is able to com-
plete the date of the sailing :
"So they did steer, the fifteenth year,
Out into the wide main ;
Perhaps a thought was to them brought,
You can't come back again."
We see here the peculiarity of these
early ballad- writers in America ; — they
were web-footed, and so, instead of
rising on pinions like the lark, they
took to the floods of bathos, and there
wailed their sorrows like loons.
But the master-piece of Shaw, so
far as now appears, was a four-column
broadside, fourteen by twenty inch-
es. The occasion of this production
was the ratification of the Treaty of
Ghent in 1815. The subject was cal-
culated to awaken more than ordinary
joy, and here we shall expect to see
the poet at his best. Indeed, he
seems himself to have looked upon
this performance with a good degree
of complaisance, for some of the ideas
of this reappear in pretty nearly the
original language in his lines on La-
fayette. The work is divided into
two distinct parts after the manner of
old-time sermons, the expository part
of which was delivered in the morn-
ing, while the ''improvement," as it
used to be called, — in later phrase,
the" application," — was "deferred till
after intermission."
The first part is taken up with a re-
cital of events preceding the peace.
Quite as much space is given to the
Revolution as to the War of 1812.
The author is profuse in generalities,
but rather chary of particulars. The
exploits of the enemy, from 1812 to
A Down East Homer.
145
1815, are summed up in the twenty-
second and twenty-third stanzas :
"Their array went to Washington,
And there destruction they begun ;
From there and Baltimore they tied,
After their General was dead.
"We lost some frigates by our foe,
Who took them where they could do so;
And look our vessels great and small.
When they Into their hands did fall."
Only one victory of our anus is men-
tioned, and that happened to be an
affair that came off after the treaty
was signed, and had the least signifi-
cance of all as related to the subject
of the poem :
"While marching to New Orleans town,
Our gallant Jackson cut them down;
And boat their haughty army then
By killing thousands of their men."
The "improvement" of all this in
"Part Second" is a call to give over
the contention of party strife :
"Unite, unite now all as one,
Let party spirit all be gone."
Political writers of the time were fa-
vored with some excellent counsel,
which perhaps entitles the whole per-
formance to perpetuity.
" Ye printers come now take a hint,
No more contention ever print;
And so let party spirit die.
That has so long been printer's cry."
After rehearsing to political editors
the sad story of Ahab, he again calls
to them, —
"Now for God 's sake forsake this trade.
For this lying the devil made."
It is worth keeping in mind, that
while Shaw was attentive to a not
very exacting muse on the birch-cov-
ered gravel hills of Standish Neck, he
could look across Sebago lake to the
head of Kettle Cove where Hawthorne
kept his boat tied, and half a mile to
the right he could see the tops of the
pines which grew about that lad's home
and deepened what was later spoken
of as "that cursed solitude of Ray-
mond." At the same time, too, up
at the head of Long Pond, Seba Smith
was getting ready to do some of that
political writing which our poet so
earnestly deprecated. Over in Gor-
ham, only three or four miles away,
Sargent S. Prentiss was living on a
farm, and Isaac McClellan was be-
ginning his work. At the city, John
Neal must have been heard by that
time, and his was a strong-voiced
muse ; Mellen was cultivating a
smoother strain ; and Longfellow
was already engaged upon his earlier
tasks.
But these belonged to another gen-
eration, and a happier one for literary
enterprise or indulgence. We are not
often reminded novv how little chance
tiiere was for any art to survive the
two wars we had with England.
Sometimes when we examine the rec-
ords of towns and parishes for that
period, we see how great a falling off
there was from colonial times in re-
gard to preparation for clerical work.
So, too, the fact that work like Shaw's
was made to order, as it were, and
that it supplied a real demand, marks
a sort of zero point upon the scale of
popular taste and interest. The work
had just one redeeming quality, — in
common with most of the oratory of
that period,— its spirit of genuine
patriotism ; and that was enough to
excuse and atone for all literary de-
linquencies.
146
Christ Church.
CHRIST CHURCH.
By Annie Wentwoeth Baer.
The little village of Salmon Falls
has had its share of rhythm : success
and failure have followed each other
like the rise and fall of the waves.
The wail of 1690 had died away
amonsr the near hills more than a cen-
tury ago, and the ashes of that cruel
fire kindled by the French and Ind-
ians had whitened and scattered, when
some "Yenghees" of a mechanical
turn of mind were attracted by the
rush and foam of water over the jag-
ged falls in this winding stream. These
men wished to utilize this strength,
and so change the course of the merry
river that it should become the driving
power of a woollen-mill.
About 1824, the capture was made,
and the glistening water was caused
to run over a dingy, wide-mouthed
wheel which caught up the water only
to dash it down again with vengeful
spite. For ten years the mill ran on,
when in 1834 it was burned. In the
time of this first mill, teasels were
planted by the company about the
village in several places ; and to-day
where the trim new depot on the
Boston & Maine line stands, once in
awhile a teasel-plant peeps up to see
if it can be of any use nowadays.
Acacias were started for shuttle
wood: the old ones have died down,
and new ones have thrown out their
heavy sweetness every June from the
high knoll west of " Foundry Pond."
The agent of the company who own-
ed the mill was Col. Joshua Pierce, of
Greenland, and he desired a suitable
place of worship. Many of the work-
men were Englishmen, and since Col.
Pierce was a believer in the Church of
England service, arrangements to start
an Episcopal church were soon made.
On Wednesday, December 15, 1830,
a notice was posted in the village,
reading thus : "All persons desirous
of having stated and regular Religious
service at Salmon Falls are requested
to meet at the School House in said
place this evening at eight o'clock."
The church records tell how a num-
ber of the inhabitants met, and organ-
ized themselves by choosing J. W.
Pierce moderator ; and, after discuss-
ing the subject upon which the meeting
was called, it was voted to appoint a
committee of three persons to ascer-
tain what could be done among the
people toward the erection of a house
of public worship, and to report at
the adjourned meeting. It was voted
that John Wentworth, Daniel Nason,
and James Bradbury be the committee.
Friday, Dec. 1 7, 1830, an adjourned
meeting was held, when the commit-
tee appointed made a verbal report of
their proceedings, and presented a sub-
scription paper having several sums
of money subscribed by the inhabi-
tants of the village, and amounting to
a sum sufficient to warrant the meet-
ing to go on and prosecute their de-
sign of erecting a house of public
worsliip.
At this meeting it was voted that
a clerk be appointed, whose duty it
should be to record all proceedings of
this and future meetings of said sub-
scribers, in a book of records. It
was also voted that a committee of
three persons be appointed to adopt
Christ Church.
H7
a plan for said building ; to contract
for the building of the same ; and to
locate its situation, and to superintend
the erection of the same.
It was voted J. W. Pierce, William
Morton, and John Wentworth be the
building committee, and Daniel Nason
was chosen clerk. It was voted that
the building committee take charge of
the subscription list, and see that one
half the subscriptions be paid before
the fifteenth day of April following,
and the remainder on or before the
fifteenth day of July following.
The next vote was, to appoint a
committee to confer with the Rev.
Mr. Blackaller respecting an engage-
ment whenever the new house should
be completed, and that they be author-
ized to make some arrangement with
him for the time that should elapse
till the completion of said building.
Voted, that said committee consist of
three persons namely, J. W. Pierce,
James Smith, and William Carpenter.
They agreed to become members of
an Episcopal Society by the name of
Christ Church, and promised to do all
things legal and proper in the prem-
ises. This was signed
J. W. Pierce,
Daniel Nason,
John Wentworth,
William Carpenter,
James Bradbury,
Hosea Crane,
James Cargill,
Isaiah Wild,
James Smith,
Alexander Stowell,
Samuel B. Nichols,
John D. Sterling,
John Holland,
Albion Carpenter,
James Whittle,
William A. Shannon,
Nathan Taylor,
Charles T. Durgin,
Wm. Eastward,
John Mathews,
James Kelley,
Williiun Tingle,
Paul R. Wentworth,
Joseph Holland,
Andrew Cooper,
Moses Lord,
Wm. Morton,
James R. Moulton.
February 12th, 1831. The follow-
ing notice was posted.
Notice.
Is hereby given that J. W. Pierce,
John Wentworth 2d, James Bradbury,
and others have formed themselves
into a Religious Society at Salmon
Falls, Somers worth, by the name of
Christ Church. The foregoing notice
was published in a newspaper printed
at Dover, N. H., called the Dover
Enquirer. Feb. 15, 1831.
At a meeting called, April 4, 1831,
James Smith was moderator, Daniel
Nason clerk. It was voted that
Joshua W. Pierce and Daniel Nason
be wardens for the year ensuing ; that
William Carpenter, James Smith, and
James Cargill be vestrymen for the
year ensuing.
Next followed a list of subscribers,
and the number of shares each took.
Since there are so few left that were
the original founders of the church, I
venture to add this list of names also.
Each share was not to exceed SoO.
John Wentworth, 1 share.
William Morton, 1 share.
Alexander Stowell, 1 share.
James Bradbury, 1 share.
William A. Shannon, 1 share.
Charles T. Durgin, 1 share.
John Mathews, 1 share.
Daniel Nason, 1 share.
James Kelley, 1 share.
Nathan Taylor, 1 share.
William Eastwood, 2 share.
Paul R. Wentworth, i share.
148
Christ Church.
John Holland, 1 share.
Isaiah AVild, \ share.
Andrew Cooper, 5 share.
James Smith, 2^ share.
James Cargill, \ share.
John D. Sterling, ^ share.
James Moulton, \ share.
Samuel B. Nichols, \ share.
Hosea Crane, \ share.
Joseph Holland, \ share.
Daniel H. Pierce, P. N. H.,* \
share.
Charles Burroughs, P. N. H., 1
share.
Mark W. Pierce, P. N. H., 1 share.
J. W. Pierce, 4 shares.
A foot-note under this list in the
book of records tells us that twenty-
one of the original twenty-seven sub-
scribers could be found April 29,
1867, showing that some one had
looked up the matter. To-day I think
that nearly every name has passed
beyond the ken of Salmon Falls folk.
Many, we know, have gone into the
great unknown.
Mr. Blackaller was engaged by the
committee appointed for that purpose
to perform public service at Salmon
Falls, for a period to expire on East-
er, 1832.
The undersigned promised and
agreed to pay the wardens the suras
set against their names, quarterly, on
the first Monday of April, July, Octo-
ber, and January, and so on durinsf
the time of said engagement. Forty-
two names were signed to this agree-
ment. Fifteen dollars per annum was
the largest subscription ; one dollar
the smallest. It was dated January
1, 1831.
*These letters, "P. N. H.," signify Portsmouth,
N.H.
June 27, 1831 , a meeting was called,
and the pews were taken. Fourteen
dollars was the highest paid for choice,
by J. W. Pierce ; ten dollars was
paid by Alexander Stowell. Pew 28
was reserved for the minister. There
were thirty-two pews taken.
August 6, 1831, a meeting was
called at Christ Church to authorize
some person or persons to give deeds
of pews to the original proprietors.
J. W. Pierce, Daniel Nason, wardens,
were chosen. Next followed a deed
of the land.
Salmon Falls Manufacturing Co.
to Christ Church : For the sum of $1
this land was granted, bargained,
sold, and conveyed to Christ Church
and assigns forever. The bounds are
given, and it is to be used for erect-
ing and containing thereon a suitable
house of worship.
Signed the twelfth day of July
A. D., 1831, by
John Haven,
Elisha Hill,
Robert Rice,
Wm. Jones,
Directors of the S. F. Mf. Co.
There is a neatly executed plan 01
the grounds and surrounding streets
on the page below this in the records.
Christ Church was dedicated to
God by Alexander V. Griswold,
Bishop of the Eastern Diocese, 24th
of July, 1831.
January 20, 1832, the church mem-
bers again agreed to pay a certain
sum for the support of the Rev. Mr.
Blackaller..
[To be concluded.]
The First Excursion. 149
PIS CAT AQUA RIVER.
[Arrived at the mouth of the Piscataqua, June, 1603, barks Speedwell
and Discoverer, Capt. Martin Pring commander, on an exploring expedi-
tion, in quest of adventure and sassafras, the latter, at that day, being held
a panacea for all the ills that flesh is heir to. The vessels were from
Bristol, England, and were the first, so far as known, to touch the shores of
New Hampshire or enter the waters of the Piscataqua. Pring explored the
river to its fullest extent, or to where it entered Great Bay, and doubtless
found plenty of the pungent root he sought, for it is native to the shore
everywhere. In Vaughau street, Portsmouth, beside the house once occu-
pied by Daniel Webster, there was, within a few years (and may be there
now), a large sassafras tree, supposed to have belonged to a remote genera-
tion of such trees, coeval perhaps with Pring's visit, which the ^vvriter
remembers in his early school days, seemingly no larger when he last saw it
than it was fifty years before.]
THE FIRST EXCURSION.
BY B. P. SHILLABER.
A weary sail on an uncertain sea !
And, skirting now a wild and rocky coast,
The surf there thundering on the rugged shore,
The Speedwell and Discoverer are fain
To seek a haven from the waves apart.
And find it where the ocean, open-armed.
Receives the fair Piscataqua in embrace.
"Within the river's mouth — bedight with smiles
And dimples mau}' — do the vessels rest.
Their anchors dropt, tlie ships securely swing,
In gay abandon, at their moorings fast.
Coquetting with the spirits of the tide.
The ever-present deities, whose sway
Has held control since Nature's cunning hand
Prepared the channel and let on the flood.
It was a goodly scene. Fair islands lay.
In virgin beauty, greening to tiieir marge,
Enfolded in the atmosphere of June.
The birds sang welcome to the stranger ships,
And from their coverts timid deer looked out
To shyly scan the unfamiliar sight.
150 The First Excursion.
Far swept the coast, marked bj its piny fringe,
And there upon the near horizon's verge
Rose gentle isles,* with verdure clad, that seemed
Fair satellites of the majestic main,
Resting, like emerald bubbles, on the sea.
And all was wonderful and new and grand !
Then up spoke Martin Pring, the SpeedioelVs chief :
" Now, by ray hope of sassafras," said he,
"But this is Paradise renewed, and here,
Again, those scenes that waited primal man !
None more enchanting could have met his eye
Who by Euphrates set up for himself.
With all things his that met his raptured gaze.
Great Sassafras ! thou marvel of the hour,
Deign but to show thyself, and we are blest,
Adding thy virtues to this prospect rare.
Boatswain, thy pinnace launch, and up
This tempting stream will we its track pursue,
And drink in draughts of wondrous loveliness,
For, since the time when first I was afloat.
Ne'er saw I stream with promise fair as this."
The pinnace launched and manned, with Pring to guide,
Now up Piscataqua the bending ash
Propels the little craft, until tlie tide,
Down-sweeping through the "Narrows," then unnamed,
Resists advance, and struggle scarce avails
To stem the current rushing to the sea.
The Speedwell's crew, unused to strain like this.
Deem it a task exceeding human will ;
But Pring, on sassafras and honor bent.
Urges his men to energy renewed.
And, with a splurge, the fearful Point is pass'd
(That mariners in later times have named.
In their emphatic parlance, something rude.
That ears polite are mortified to hearf).
And, bounding free, the inner pool is gained,
Lying in tranquil beauty neath the sun :
A wide, blue stream ti}at laved the verdant shores.
Lying abroad in beautiful expanse.
Backed by wild eminences, timber-crowned,
'Neath skies harmonious in the airs of June.
* Isles of Shoals.
t " rull-ai)d-be-d— d Point."
The First Excursion.
There a steep bank descendeth to the shore,
On which the strawberry grows in pride of fruit,
Giving its hue from fullest plenitude,
Tickling the palate, minus sweet or cream.
And "Strawberry Bank" is named that precinct fair,
So called long after, when another Priug,
Of other name,* came sailing up the stream.
Preceding others come to stay, whose plant
Acquired a hold that, magnified, to day
Is all Neio Hampshire, grand in name and state !
Then on moved Pring. The majesty of God,
In solemn silence, all the scene invest,
Save where the rushing waters gave their voice,
Or the winds sighing through the wakened pines
That cast their shadows on the passing tide.
Fleet water-fowl, on half-suspicious wing.
Flitted above the circumambient wave.
Casting a glance on the invading barge,
Instinctive of a peril undefined.
A pristine grandeur on the stream and shore
Bore stateliness and grace in every line,
And stillness, undisturbed, in brooding hush.
Seemed as if primal Nature, scarce awake.
Were gazing sleepily upon the scene.
And wondering vaguely what the intrusion meant.
Bright islands, shady bays, and inland creeks
Tempted the rowers with a rapturous show
Of beauties manifold, while there anon,
'Neath arches of the trees, fair vistas oped.
Hung plenteously with vine and summer flower.
And more than sylvan loveliness and grace
Did the explorers find, reward for toil,
In that tongue-tingling root of earnest quest,
O'er which the world ran mad, sufficient deemed
For healinof of the nations in their need.
151
s
Here bluffs abrupt hung o'er the gliding stream ;
The "Pulpit," singular and ponderous pile.
Reared its wild front ; while there, away beyond,
The angry "Boiling Rock" upraised its voice,
As if remonstrant 'gainst the stranger keel
That dared its special guardianship invade.
* John Smith, 1614.
152 The First Excursion.
On and still on, the estuary gained
(The river broadened to a grand expanse),
Where bright Cocheco lovingly descends
To mingle with Piscataqua's mightier tide.
Along the western shore they take their way.
Replete with charms of surfeiting extent.
Until, sublime and ultimate of all.
Burst on their view the waters of the Bay,
Extending far beyond the vision's ken.
And melting in the distance to a haze,
Dreamy, voluptuous, and indistinct.
And who can tell what thought prophetic woke
In Pring while gazing on this regal scene !
Could he have seen the future of these shores, —
The struggling settlers founding thrifty farms.
Contending 'gainst the murderous red man's power.
And the hard fate attending effort new,
Ending with triumph and assured success ;
Could he have seen the peopled towns arise.
The forests bending to triumphant man, —
More glory than a conqueror's were his :
His the grand vision of a mighty land,
Created 'neath his transatlantic eyes.
Searching for sassafras, and finding this.
The crown of his exploit ; beginning meet
Of subsequent emprise, that took the field
And utilized discoveries of Pring.
'O*
Piscataqua ! with scarce a place allowed
Among our native rivers on the maps.
Thou bears't the palm as pioneer of streams.
Along our sinuous coast, deep, swift, and blue,
As bright and fair to-day as on that morn
In .June when Pring embarked upon thy breast
To make that first excursion o'er thy tide,
So affluent with wonder and delight.
Publisher s Department .
BOAR'S HEAD HOTEL.
153
As the warm weather approaches
one begins to look forward to a trip to
the country, to tlie mountains, or to
the seaside, as a vacation from the
ordinary avocations of life. Nearly
everybody has some favorite resort
in view, which, if possible, he will
try to visit during his days or weeks
of rest or recreation. Many, how-
ever, have no definite place in view,
and to such we wish to recommend
that particularly favored spot, Boar's
Head, and Mr. S. H. Dumas's Boar's
Head Hotel, situate in the town of
Hampton, N. H.
We have been to the place several
seasons with the famih', and all are
more than pleased with its many
attractions. The hotel is large, hav-
ing about 100 rooms, each one of
which commands a view of the ocean ;
for Boar's Head is a promontory ex-
tending 1,600 feet out into the sea,
and the hotel is located on its highest
elevation. In either direction ex-
tends Hampton Beach, merging in the
distance to the north into Rj'e Beach,
Little Boar's Head, and the shores of
Newcastle, Kittery, and York ; and
to the south into the wave-washed
shores of Salisbury, Newburyport,
and Cape Ann. Across a wide ex-
panse of blue water can be seen the
romantic group of Isles of Shoals,
famons in verse and stor}^, and in
another direction, Thatcher's island,
off the Massachusetts coast. In the
wide angle made by these distant
points the broad Atlantic ocean is in
view to the horizon. This view must
ever remain the chief attraction of
the place. Mr. Dumas keeps the
whole of the plateau, from the house
to the edge of the bluff, free from all
obstructions, so that from the wide
verandas of the hotel the guest can
view the whole expanse of ocean,
with nothing to mar the effect but the
velvety sward of the well kept lawn.
This lawn is immensely attractive to
everybody, from the little child who
romps over it to the grey-haired vet-
eran, including all ages between,
even mooning couples. Along the
edge of the bluff, which rises precip-
itously nearly one hundred feet above
the sea, at convenient distances, are
placed low seats, upon which one can
sit ; inhale the purest of air, clarified
by a journey across the ocean, per-
haps ; gain youth and health and
happiness with every breath ; watch
the ceaseless billows of the " North-
ern ocean" as they break at his feet ;
and, if he has not dyspepsia too badly,
he will be happy, and so will his sisters
and his cousins and his whole family.
Out on this bluff, all through the sea-
side summer season, he is sure of
meeting congenial company, for at
Boar's Head, season after season, do
congregate those charming families
who discovered the attractions of the
place many years ago perhaps, or
who were recommended to the place
by their fathers or grandfathers (for
Boar's Head has been a famous resort
for three quarters of a century), and
who count on meeting each other
thei-e, or on meeting other pleasant and
interesting people. Many come from
our own state, many from Massachu-
setts, many from New York city,
Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington,
and the South, and very many
from the great West, — bright, active,
whole-souled people, who make it
lively. It is rather the resort of
families than of gay young bachelors,
vet it receives its share of their pat-
154
Publisher's Depai'tment.
ronage. This bluff is a famous place
for flying kites. Tlie breeze seems
always good, paper, string, and inge-
nuity plenty, and the boys are bound
to have a royal time.
The company which assembles at
Boar's Head year after year is of the
most eminently respectable class, —
lawyers and judges, merchants, man-
ufacturers, bankers, college profess-
ors, school-teachers, editors, foreign
ministers, brokers, clergymen, officers
in the servnce of the government, with
their wives and families, health-seek-
ers and pleasure-seekers, — all sure of
having a delisfhtful vacation at this
resort ; for it is a quiet, home-like,
pleasant seaside place, where families,
and ladies unattended, are sure of a
good time and of receiving the utmost
courtesy.
The beauties of the place are not
confined to the lawn, and the ocean
view, and the company : there are
many more. The hotel is six-sided,
and a broad veranda extends around
five sides, affording a shady retreat
at all times, a promenade of several
hundred feet, and a delightful oppor-
tunity for an open-air reception.
Here the ladies assemble with their
dainty work and indulge in harmless
gossip ; iiere the gentlemen over their
cigars discuss ethics and statescraft ;
and here the children romp and play.
The office is a favorite meeting-place
in the evening, and when, as occa-
sionally happens in the most favored
locality, a rainy day keeps the guests
witliin doors. Here tiie gentlemen
are privileged to enjoy their cigars, and
are occasionally joined by their lady
friends for a quiet game of whist.
Tiie iiarlor is a large apartment,
lighted on three sides, and affording
ample room for four sets in the co-
tillon, and a jolly space and ample
scope for a country dance. During
the season music is provided, fur-
nished by professionals ; but gen-
erally among the guests are amateur
musicians of rare gifts of voice or
•execution, who entrance their friends
and all who listen, either gathered in
groups about the parlor or assembled
on the veranda outside.
The dining-room is amply large for
the accommodation of the guests of
the hotel and all transient company.
From two sides the view is tow^ards
the ocean. The landlord sets an
extra good table. One does not
realize what codfish and haddock and
mackerel and lobsters and clams taste
like, in their best condition, until he
has eaten them when the}', the deni-
zens of the deep, have been taken
from their native element before he,
the seeker after good things, has
arisen from his couch. Of course
the table is supplied with all the deli-
cacies of the season, and in every
respect is that of a first-class hotel ;
but the fish and lobsters and clams
are specially noticeable. Mr. Dumas
keeps in his own employ a fisherman,
whose first duty is to supply Mr.
Dumas's table.
For those fond of the sport, there
are furnished billiard-tables and bowl-
ing-alleys. Connected with the hotel
is a livery-.stable ; and Hampton and
the neighboring towns afford the most
deliglitful and romantic drives, over
well kept roads, by places of historic
interest, and amid charming scenery.
A batliing-house on the beach north
of the hotel, and six hundred feet
distant, gives an opportunity to
those who choose to do so to enjoy
Publisher's Department. •
155
breasting the waves and sporting in
the billows. To the south of Boar's
Head extends the ITamitton beach,
made famous by the pen of John
G. Whittier. The beach is hard
and wide, and affords a pleasant
drive or promenade, where one is
very near the restless waves. Shel-
tered by a reef off Boar's Head is a
safe anchorage for boats in the sum-
mer-time, and a landing at the base
of the cliff". One Capt. Nudd, a
mariner bold, keeps a fishing-yacht
anchored in this haven, and for a
consideration will take passengers to
the fishing-grounds, to the neighbor-
ing l^irbors, to a trip to sea, or to a
season of sea-sickness.
After an eventful day, the weary
ouest at Boar's Head Hotel is sure of
a comfortable bed and a good night's
rest. At least he will have the bene-
fit of pure air, cool and refreshing
during the most sultry summer
weather. Here the valetudinarian
can receive all the advantages of an
ocean voyage, with none of the dis-
comforts and annoyances attendant
on going to sea. Anchored in Mr.
Dumas's office, or parlor, or recep-
tion-room, one could very easily ride
out a terrible storm, and only suffer
from his sympathy for those less
happily situated.
The gentleman who for many years
has owned and conducted the Boar's
Head Hotel, Col. StebbinsH. Dumas,
is a veteran landlord, having been
mine host so many years the present
generation has lost all record of his
origin or when he first embarked in
the hotel business. He looks about
fifty years of age. He has the
ideal manners of a typical landlord,
is genial, and tries to make his
whole company feel at home, each
feeling like a favored guest. So
many years of his life having been
devoted to keeping a hotel, of course
his circle .of acquaintance is very
large, and i)erhaps no man in New
Hampshire is more widely known.
At one time he was landlord of the
Phenix Hotel in the city of Concord.
One thing is certain, Mr. Dumas
knows how to keep a hotel. It may
be the privilege of the readers of the
Gkanite Monthly, at sotbc time in
the near future, to know more [of
him : for the present we must |leave
him and revert to his hotel. We
neglected to mention prices. They
are very reasonable, varying from $10
per week to twice that sum, accord-
ing to the size and location of the
room. There is, by the way, not an
unsightly nor an uncomfortable room
in any of the four stories of the house.
Mr. Dumas is assured, even at this
early date, of a good season's busi-
ness this summer, so many have
already siijnified their intention of
visiting him this year. Mr. Baker
will, in all probability, be the clerk
this season, and if so, will help sus-
tain the reputation the hotel already
enjoys.
Any one who has either of the first
four volumes of the Granite Monthly,
bound or unbound, may exchange
with the publisher for later volumes,
or for advance subscriptions to the
magazine. The earlv volumes are en-
tirely out of print.
So few of the later volumes, V, VI,
VII, VIII, and IX remain, that those
needino- them to fill their sets will do
well to order now.
156
Publisher's Department.
SHAW & JACKSON.
One of the longest established and
most hio-hlv esteemed business enter-
prises of Concord, N. H., is that of
the firm of Messrs. Shaw »& Jackson,
dealers in ready-made clothing, gen-
tlemen's furnishing goods, hats and
caps, gloves, robes, trunks, &c.
Mr. Weutworth G. Shaw, the senior
member of the firm, went into the
clothing business in the old Butter-
field block in 1849, and for ^nearly
forty years has continued in it, within
forty feet of his present location.
At first the firm was Dustin «fe Shaw,
who were burned out in 1849. Upon
the death of Mr. Dustin, Mr. Shaw
carried on the business by himself
for a time, being again burned out in
the disastrous fire of 1852. In 1854
the firm became Lincoln & Shaw, and
continued unchanged until 1874, when
Mr. Lincoln withdrew, and the firm
of Shaw & Drew was formed. In
1884 the firm of Shaw, Jackson &
Ahern was formed, and continued till
the present yeai-, when Mr. Ahern
withdrew to devote more of his time
to the duties of the office of commis-
sioner of Merrimack county, to which
he was elected the previous year.
He still continues as a clerk with the
firm.
Through all the changes the firm
has always followed one policy ; — they
have always been fair and honest in
their dealings ; have always tried to
keep the best goods in the market ;
have been satisfied with a fair profit,
and so have become very widely and
favorably known.
The demands of their business
necessitated the enlargement of their
store, whicii has been done by build-
ing out in the rear about twentv-five
feet, thus giving them one of the
largest and most convenient estab-
lishments in the state. This store is
numbered 96 North Main street. Ex-
change block, and faces the state-
house. They keep a large and well
selected stock of suits, from which
any one can select an outfit, and
at reasonable prices. They scarcely
need an introduction to the Concord
public, but strangers in the cit}' will
do well to give them a call if in need
of anything in their line.
NOTICE.
The publisher of the Granite
Monthly wishes to thank the many
patrons of the work for their con-
tinued interest and efforts to sustain
it. He wishes to ask of them a little
favor, — that each will so far in-
terest himself or herself as to add
one name to the subscription-list.
There is man}' an absent son, or
brother, in some distant city, or j)er-
haps on some new farm in the West,
who would welcome it as a friend.
What more appropriate present than
a receipted bill for a year's subscrip-
tion to the Granite Monthly?
Elderly people like the publication
very much. Why not remember the
old father or mother on the hillside
farm ? A little effort on the part of
each would be but a trifling burden,
while it would gladden the heart of
the overworked publisher and editor.
Some individuals in distant locali-
ties where New Hampshire people are
gathered, have sent in as many as a
score of names at once. Why not, if
you have a little leisure, do likewise?
The ])ublisher only asks for each sub-
scriber to add one name to the list.
'^yi/i^ <
THE
RANITE neNTHLY,
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
IDevoted to Literature, 'biography, History, and State Progress.
Vol. X.
MAY, 1887.
No. 5.
HON. EZRA SCOLLAY STEARNS.
By Charles R. Corning.
The subject of this sketch was born
in the town of Riudge, Cheshire
county, September 1, 1838. His
early life was spent in the town of his
birth, where he received a common-
school education, supplemented later
bv a broad and thorouijh course of
study beyond that required for ad-
mission to college. Prevented by
circumstances from entering college,
Mr. Stearns still kept up his study and
reading, and thoroughly prepared him-
self for the avocations which have
given him a well deserved reputation
among the people of his native state.
Between 1858 and 1862 he was an in-
structor in the Chester Institute at
Chester, "N. J., but he soon gave up
teaching, and, returning to his native
tawu, devoted his time to that self-cult-
ure which is a marked trait of his in-
dividuality. .Journalistic and literary
pursuits have always possessed a
charm for him, and largely influenced
his career, so it seemed but natural
that he should direct his tastes towards
the newspaper and the publishing
house. He was for several years the
manager and editor-in-chief of The
Chronicle^ at Fitchburg, Mass., and
prior to this was connected with
prominent publishers in Boston, New
York, and Philadelphia.
But it is as a historian that Mr.
Stearns is best known, and his deep
and careful researches and compila-
tions have given to our historical
literature two works of commanding
merit. In 1876 he published the
History of Rindge, and in 1887 the
History of Ashburnham. These pro-
ductions well illustrate the methodical
and painstaking habits of their author,
and justly entitle him to a high place
among local historians. The latter
work, especiall}', has called forth
many complimentary notices from the
press throughout New England, be-
cause of its clear arrangement and
graceful diction, qualities which, it
must be admitted, are rare in this
class of writings. That he met the
expectation of the people of Ashburn-
ham is evinced by the following words
1^8 Ho7i. Ezra Scollay Stearns.
from the Committee Oil Publication : leaders of the house. First among
*'Mr. Stearns has faithfully and ably the questions vexing the public mind
fulfilled the obligations he assumed, twenty years ago was that of refund-
and has produced a work that meets ing to the towns the money expended
our warmest approval and unqualified by them in filling the quota of troops,
endorsement. Yielding to the desire As it was proposed that the state
of the author, we reluctantly refrain assume the town indebtedness, which
from a more particular expression of then amounted to more than five mill-
Our estimate of the sterling character ion dollars, it will be readily under-
of the volume, and of our ready ap- stood how stupendous the proposition
preciation of the vigor of thought and was, and what dangers it involved,
felicity of expression." It is the The state debt in 1866 was about four
earnest hope of Mr. Stearns's readers million dollars, and while our credit
that his pen will not be idle in the was sound and we were able to bor-
vears to come, but that he will con- row, yet in view of the additional
tinue his historical labors and con- burden of five million dollars, a se-
tribute to our state literature. rious impairment might be produced.
Mr. Stearns coming of age at about The mere suspicion that the state
the time the Republican party started might assume the town debts tended
in its magnificent career, became one to disturb our financial standing, and
of its stauuchest members. With yet the advocates of such a dangerous
voice and pen he upheld its acts and course were not wanting. The towns,
policies, and was soon regarded as so they argued, unused to such taxa-
one of the most prominent Republi- tiou, were becoming alarmed at the
cans in his section of the state. In constant accumulation of indebted-
1864, at the comparatively youthful age ness, and most serious results must
of twenty-six, lie was elected a mem- follow unless prompt measures were
berof the house of representatives, and taken to relieve their distress. On
was reelected in 186r)-'66-'67 and '70, the other hand, the opponents of as-
serving on the Committees on Judi- sumption, admitting that the burdens
clary, Railroads, Elections, and Edu- imposed by the war were heavy and
cation, being chairman of the last hard to bear, contended that peace
two. and the restored order of things would
In the important legislation of that bring about a deliverance, and that
period immediately succeeding the with patience and economy all would
Civil War he bore a leading jiart, come out well. *
advocating all needful measures for So important had this question be-
maintaining the credit and reestab- come that it was recognized as the
lishing the affairs of the state, and leading one of the day, and engrossed
winhing for himself a reputation as a public attention from Coos to Rock-
debater whigh rarely comes to any ingham. The legislature of 1865
man in his twenties. His abilities passed an act "for the purpose of
were speedily recognized and appre- ascertaining and allowing the war
ciated, and by common consent he expenditures of the several towns
was soon looked upon as one of the and cities in the state," and in com-
Ch rist C/i u rch .
159
pliance therewith Gov. SmN'th, in
March of the next year, appointed as
comniissioners Mr. Stearns, Levi W.
Barton, and David D. Ranlet. These
gentlemen entered upon their labo-
rious duty at once, and discharged it
.with a faithfulness and completeness
that did them great credit. They
audited the war expenses of every
town and city in New Hampshire, a
work involving great expenditure of
time, and submitted a full and com-
prehensive report to the governor at
the June session following. In the
house a special committee was ap-
pointed to take this report into con-
sideration, and Mr. Stearns was made
chairman. Throuoh his efforts the
committee decided not to recommend
the assumption of the town and city
debt by the state, and the house sus-
tained the report by a decisive vote.
It is in connection with this legis-
lation that Mr. Stearns is best known,
and the results attained were unques-
tionably due to his wise and skilful
management. With the exception of
the office of moderator of Rindge,
which he has held for twent\' years
(the longest term ever known in the
town), Mr. Stearns has held no elec-
tive office, until 1886, when the Repub-
licans of the Cheshire senatorial dis-
trict elected him senator. It is need-
less to predict that he will take a lead-
ing part in the debates of that body,
and impress legislation with his expe-
rience and wisdom.
He is a partisan, but he is straight-
forward, and his political opponents
entertain for him the deepest respect.
He has contributed not a little to the
ascendancy of the Republican party
in our state, and has aided in keeping
its tone pure and its policy sound,
and in making it worthy of any vic-
tories it may achieve.
In Ezra Scollay Stearns we have a
good specimen of the New England
man of affairs. He is a speaker of
great clearness and persuasion, a
writer both graceful and terse, and a
politician of sagacity and resource.
In no other country save in New
England, where it originated and still
exists, can this particular type of
manhood be found. It is the combi-
nation of semi-professional man with
the man of business, and is indige-
nous only to our soil.
Senator Stearns is a courteous and
unassuming gentleman, who has the
faculty of winning friends and keep-
ino- them. He entertains broad views
on public questions, and is a son of
whom New Hampshire may well be
proud.
CHRIST CHURCH— (Concluded).
By Axxie Wentwortii Baer.
Under date of March 16,. 1832, I penses to go to Saco for the organ,
found a list of subscribers desirous Hosea Crane gave SlO, and the use of
of having an organ in Christ Church, a horse to go to Saco. J. W. Pierce
They raised $243, and John Went- gave 640. In the church accounts I
worth gave SlO, and his time and ex- read, " Bishop Griswold, $20." I
i6o
Christ Church .
suppose this was paid him ou that
Jul\- day more than half a century
ago, when the worthy Bishop dedi-
cated the quaint little church, savor-
ing so strongly of England in its
architecture, to the Father of all
churches. Reading on, I found tlie
Christening basin and plates, $4.00
Bill of Bible and Prayer Book, 26.00
Bill of rocks and stone steps, 122.17
Bill of 2 altar chairs, 13.00
August 8, 1881. Received from
Mrs. Burrough for sundry contribu-
tions of ladies in Portsmouth towards
the expense of furnishing the altar,
$105.
Donations of A. & A. Lawrence &
Co., of Boston, towards the expense
of erecting the church, S200. From
Salmon Falls Man. Co., for the same
purpose, $200 : from James Sheafe,
for the same, SlOO ; from J. F. Sheafe
and family, for the same, $60.
Mrs. T. W. Penhallow presented
to the church three handsome flag-
ons and a cup for the communion ser-
vice. Mrs. James Sheafe presented a
fine damask cloth for the communion
table, and Mrs. Daniel Waldron a
fiue damask napkin for baptismal pur-
poses. Mrs. James Sheafe also pre-
sented four dozen Prayer-books (two
dozen of which were lost by ship-
wreck). Rev. Mr. Burrough presented
a sur|)lice for the use of the minis-
ter.
April 8, 1833. The church voted
to grant the request of the Rev. Mr.
Blackaller to be released from his
connection witli the church. It was
voted that the wardens be authorized
to procure a minister in place of Mr.
Bhickaller.
April 21), 1833. It was voted in the
meeting called at this time, that the
agreement made by the wardens with
Mr. Foxcroft be confirmed.
At the annual meeting, called April
21, 1834, it was voted that a 'commit-
tee of three persons be chosen to
procure subscriptions for support of
preaching.
In the account for the year 1833, I
found, June 17, cash paid Mr. Fox-
croft for his service, $56 ; Dec. 27,
1833, cash paid S. M. Burney, $90 ;
Feb. 17, 1834, cash paid S. M. Bur-
ney, $90 ; and May 10, the same sum.
The subscriptions were promptly paid
in 1834.
At the annual meeting called April
20, 1835, it was voted that John
Wentworth, 2d, and J. W. Pierce be
delegates to represent the church in
the next convention of the Protestant
Episcopal Church in New Hampshire.
At this meeting there was shown a
balance due the wardens, amounting
to $429.88.
The account of payments received
by the wardens of Christ Church dur-
ing the year ending at Easter, 1835,
was poorly filled out. The first pay-
ment, in July, 1834, amounted to $1)3.
The next quarter, after the fire in
August, foots up only $32.50. In
the small list twenty-five names have
a dash against them. I suppose that
after the mill was burned, many of
the people went elsewhere.
April 4, 1836. It was voted that
Col. J. W. Pierce be a delegate to the
church convention, to be held at Con-
cord. Voted that the examination
of the wardens' account be postponed
to the next annual meeting.
March 27, 1837. At the annual
meeting it was voted that, as the war-
dens have presented no account at
this meeting, the consideration of that
Christ CJiurcJi.
i6i
su])ject be postponed to the next
meetino-. J. W. Pierce was ao;ain
chosen delegate to the convention.
The meeting called April IG, 1838,
was the same as the 3'ear before.
Following this there was a lapse of
several years, Jnly 27, 1844, when,
in pursuance of a petition of the pro-
prietors and parishioners of Christ
Church, a meeting was called by
James Rollins, Esq., justice of the
peace. The meeting was adjourned,
on account of the small number pres-
ent, to two weeks from that time.
Aug. 24, 1844. They met agreea-
ble to adjournment, and it was voted
that .T. B. Went worth be desired to
circulate a subscription paper for the
purpose of aiding to paint and repair
the church.
June 21, 1845. At the annual
meeting it was voted to rent the pews,
and to correspond with persons liv-
ing out of town, who held pews, for
permission to rent those pews, the
proceeds to be applied to the support
of preaching.
Voted that the wardens be instruct-
ed to sign certificates of the election
of Rev. Newton E. Marble as Rector
of the parish.
Feb. 10,1846. At a meeting called,
a letter from N. E. Marble was read,
in which he tendered his resignation
of the rectorship of Christ Church.
It was voted at this time that a
committee of three be chosen to ascer-
tain what assistance they could get
from abroad towards the future sup-
port of preaching, and should suffi-
cient encouragement be met to war-
rant it, to look about for a clergyman
to supply Mr. Marble's place.
At an adjourned meeting it was
voted to accept Mr. Marble's resigna-
tion. Following this vote was a very
kindly worded resolution, telling us
of later date how much the Salmon
Falls people liked Mr. Marble, and
how deeply they regretted his leaving
them.
After another lapse of years, a
meeting was called by John P. Emer-
son, J. P., to be held April 13, 1855.
It was voted in this meeting that a
committee be chosen to see what could
be cheer f idly raised to support a cler-
gyman. The committee appointed
failed to complete their labors, and it
was voted to meet at the bank rooms
in two weeks. May 24, 1855. They
met according to adjournment, but
the committee had failed to finish
their work, and it was voted to ad-
journ till June 7, 1855. If there was
a meeting held at this time, there is
no account given of it in the records.
All is blank after this.
After the fire in August, 1834,
there were no more church accounts
kept.
The last time I find the name of
J. W. Pierce signed was March 10,
1837. He had evidently been the
main power in the church, and after
he went away the meetings ran to a
low ebb.
Several marriages are recorded in
the book of records kept by the rector
of the church. One occurred since
my remembrance, and it made quite
a ripple in the quiet little town. The
young lady had formerly lived in the
village with her parents, but for some
time had been in Baltimore teaching.
AVhen the horrors of civil war burst
upon us it became a necessity for her,
with her Northern principles, to leave
the Southern city. At the time of
her marriage the church was closed,
l62
Christ Church.
but was opened for the occasion, and
I believe that she was the last bride
to stand before the altar in Christ
church.
The first person baptized in Christ
church was P^lizabeth Ann Carpenter,
daughter of Wra. and Elizabeth Car-
penter, born March 3, 1831,— Ann
Blackaller god-mother, and the parents
sponsors. The baptism occurred July
31, 1831, only a few days after the
dedication of the church.
In the record of deaths I find two
infant children of J. W. and E. S.
Pierce recorded.
During the years intervening be-
tween 1855 and 1883 only an occa-
sional service was held in the church.
It began to show the traces of time
and neglect. But there was some-
thing brewing, and the old church was
the cause. For some time there had
been no regular Protestant service in
the village, and the people went over
the river into Maine to worship in the
different churches, in the long-settled
village, South Berwick. For some
reason the little Episcopal leaven left
in Salmon Falls besfan to work in the
autumn of 1883, and it has leavened
the whole lump.
The prominent men of the village,
among whom can be mentioned Wm.
H. Morton, cashier of the Salmon
Falls Bank, O. S. Brown, agent of
the S, F. INlanufacturing Company,
W. B. Mack, M. D., and many others,
took the matter in hand. The old
church was looked over, and was
found to be in such a shattered con-
dition, that, after due deliberation, it
was decided by those who held the
power to decide^ to sell the old church,
and to build a new one in a more
quiet locality, away from the noise
and bustle of the railroad and town's
highway. The corner-stone of the
new church was laid June 21, 1884.
From "The Living Church" I copy
the following :
"The laying of the corner-stone of
the new church building was an event
which o;laddened the hearts of all who
were interested in the revival of the
Church's work in the community.
Generous contributions were made
for this purpose by friends outside of
the place, and soon sufficient funds
were secured to warrant the beginning
of the work. As the Bishop and
Clergy, preceded by the Wardens and
the architect, approached in proces-
sion, 'Onward, Christian Soldiers,'
was sung with spirit, and the service
which followed, including the 87th
psalm and hymn 202, 'The Church's
One Foundation,' was entered into
heartily by the assembled congrega-
tion. After the stone had been laid
in its place, interesting addresses
were made by the Eev. Messrs. Beard
of Dover and Hovey of Portsmouth,
who spoke pleasantly of the relation
which had existed between tlieir own
parishes and the old parish in this
place, St. Thomas's, Dover, having
been a daughter, and St. John's Ports-
mouth, the parent of Christ church,
S. F. They were followed by the
Bishop of the Diocese, who spoke
with unusual warmth and earnestness.
After the Bishop's address, the Gloria
in Excelsis was sung, and the service
closed with the benediction. The
new church is to be erected by Messrs.
Fall & ]\Ioulton, of So. Berwick,
Maine. Mr. Henry Vaughan, of Bos-
ton, is the architect. The building
will be of wood, cruciform in shape,
74 ft. long, 23 ft, wide. The Rev,
Christ Church.
163
A. E. Johnson is Rector of Christ
church."
• At the time of writing tlie new
church is up, and ah'eady has a linished
look on tlie outside. The localit}' is
line. On the south-east the " Foundry
pond" glitters in the sunlight, and
lies so quietly in its shallow basin
that one can scarce believe it is a
part of the noisy Salmon Falls river.
The hills in Maine form a stronghold
in the east, and westward the tall
pines kiss the blue sky.
Perhaps a pen picture of the interior
of the old church will not be amiss,
since we can never see it more. I
venture to describe it as I saw it in
January, 1884. After a long collo-
quy between the immense key and
the rust}' lock, the sulky bolt finally
grated back in a most inhospitable
manner, and we entered the porch,
where the plastering had dropped
down and was lying iu a shattered
condition on the floor. We pulled
the heav}' Gothic door to after us,
and shuffled our way through the
rubbish to the door opening into the
church. A small, rusty stove, bricked
into the wall in such a manner
that the fire could be kindled in
the porch and the heat go into the
church, was encountered near the
door. The architecture of the interior
of the church was very prett}'.
Groined arches, supported by clus-
tered columns, formed the ends of
the building. The centre of the house
was filled with a double row of pews ;
aisles on either side separated these
from the side pews. The floor in-
clined towards the chancel. In front
of the chancel, huddled together in
one pew, I saw a number of praj'er-
books, and in several I read the name
of the owner. Opening the tiny gate
in the balustrade, we stepped up to
the altar, with its faded covering.
Two fine ciiairs, quaintly carved,
stood on each side : these and the
pulpit were upholstered with red
damask, trimmed with red worsted
bullion fringe, and heavy tassels at
the corners. Facing the chancel, in
a balcony built in a semi-circle over
the entrance doors of the church, stood
the ruins of the organ ; lead tubes
and wooden ones were leaning in a
most disconsolate way against each
other ; the keys were yellow with
age, and the music came no more at
their bidding. The Gothic windows
were set with small, diamond-shaped
glass. Inside blinds have served late
years to prevent the small, round
stones, thrown b}' mischievous boys,
from rolling into the church. We
crunched tiny bits of glass under our
feet at every step. From the clus-
tered columns skeleton-like brackets
swung in a ghostly way ; once the
dangerous camphene lamps were hung
thereon, and gave their bright light
to the people below them. Behind
the chancel two small rooms were
piled with rubbish. In one we found
a few Sabbath-school books, and a
list of books added to Christ church
S. S. Library, August, 18-14. In the
other a Bible, rotten with mold, with
its leaves glued together with damp-
ness and decay, was lying open in
Psalms. After much study we de-
ciphered the name " Sabra," but the
rest was too dim for us to make out.
This old book, bound in heavy
leather, time-stained, musty smelling,
had for company a book of Common
Prayer. We left them, and I wonder
to-dav what became of them when
164
Bii'thflace of Gen. Henry Dcarhor.
n.
the church went down. In the under-
pinning I saw a small hole, and was
told that that was where the little van-
dals of the town crept in, and crawled
under the building, pushed open the
trap-door in the porch, and got into
the church. Then they gathered up the
tubes of the organ, the brass caudle-
sticks, &c., and hastened out with
their booty to the nearest junk store.
Behind the church a few tall marble
and slate stones are leaning. On
thera we read the names of the old
settlers. One stood above the rest :
the marble seemed white, and the
stone almost seemed proud of the
sweet name carved in large letters on
its smooth surface, — "Faith Tavlor."
BIRTHPLACE OF GEN. HENRY DEARBORN.
By John Wentworth, LL. D.
In preparing my address to be de-
livered at the unveiling of the memo-
rial tal)let to mark the site of old Fort
Dearborn in Chicago, May 21, 1881,
I vainly endeavored to ascertain the
birth-place of Gen. Henry Dearborn,
under whose administration of the
War Department Chicago's first fort
was erected in 1804. One of our
principal streets is Dearborn avenue,
named for him. His portrait by Gil-
bert Stewart has recently been pur-
chased of the family, and nov/ adorns
the walls of our Calumet club. My
address closed as follows : "We have
now marked the site and written the
history of old Fort Dearborn, with
that of the statesman and soldier who
constructed it. All else has given
way to the march of commerce. But
tlie name remains, — a name associat-
ed with all the thrilling scenes of the
American Kevolution from Bunker
Hill to Yorktown, from the capture
of Biu-goyne to that of Cornwallis."
Whilst passing the summer of 1886
in the viciuitv of Rve Beach, I thought
I winild dt'vote some of my leisure
time to ascertaining the location of
the old Dearl)orn residence. Calling
upon an old Dartmoutli College asso-
ciate, Joseph Dow, at Hampton, who by them.
had gained considerable reputation as
a historian, and making known ray
wishes, he referred me to Cornet
Brown, an aged gentleman who was
possessed of a remarkable memory,
who lived about a mile from North
Hampton depot. From Cornet
Brown's house, the Dearborn house
was pointed out near by. I found it
in the possession of the widow of
Samuel Warner, who some years ago
was well known as a member of the
New Hampshire legislature from
North Hampton. She took me to the
room in which the general was born
in 1751, and gave me a fuH history
of the premises. The house is in a
good state of preservation. Gen.
Dearborn died June 6, 1829, at Rox-
bury, Mass. The confusion as to
the place of his birth arises from the
fact that after studying medicine and
practising a little at different places,
he finally settled at Nottingham, from
which place he raised his company
and marched it to Bunker Hill. My
object is not to write the history of
one of the most distinguished men
that New Hampshire ever produced,
but to inform the summer visitors of
Portsmouth and vicinity that within
an hour's drive, over a good road, in
the oldest settled portion of North
Hampton, just across the railroad
track at the depot, they can find a
historic mansion heretofore unvisited
Historical Sketch of West Dunstable.
165
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF WEST DUNSTABLE.
By Charles S. Spauldixg.
Almost all the aucesfors of tlie
pioneer settlers of "West Dunstable
Precinct, or what formerly belonged
to the ancient township of Monson,
and now incorporated within the
boundaries of Mollis, were of Ger-
man origin, whose famil}' names date
far back into the Middle Ages, and
were of Gaultic or Celtic extraction,
belonging to the Caucasian race, re-
taining all the indomitable will, per-
severance, and energy, mingled with
those sterling qualities so character-
istic of the Anglo Saxons ; and were
peculiarly fitted to become the ances-
tors of those resolute conquerors of
the forests and lakes of New Eng-
land — men who had been persecuted
in the Old World alike for religions
and political opinions. Driven from
their homes, they came to the wilder-
ness of America, where ' they could
enjoy greater -freedom, and worship
God according to the dictates of their
consciences, leaving behind them a
land where they could boast of their
old baronial establishments, their
ruined castles and deserted monas-
teries, their magnificent cathedrals
and their grreat universities. Thev
had monuments of the times of the
Druids, — an abiding evidence that
England for two centuries had been a
Eoman province. The religion of the
Britons was a part of their govern-
ment, and the priests possessed great
power over their subjects. No species
of superstition was ever more terrible
than theirs ; and persecution for opin-
ion's sake was tolerated in Great
Britain, even as late as the migration
of our immediate ancestors, who came
over about the year 1630, and settled
in the towns of Braintree, Hatfield,
Reading, Andover, Tewksbury, and
Chelmsford. Actuated by a spirit
and resolution which showed what
manner of men they were, they
pushed forward, encountering and
overcoming obstacles of such magni-
tude as would seem to appal the
stoutest heart, determined to estab-
lish Ijomes for themselves and their
descendants, thoroughly imbued with
the spirit of emigration. Adhering to
those sound principles with which
their education had endowed them,
they ultimately achieved fame and
success for themselves and their pos-
terity.
In August, 1655, Capt. Simon Wil-
lard and Edward Johnson, surveyors,
who were employed by the provincial
court of Massachusetts, came from
Woburn with an exploring company,
which usually consisted of a guard of
eight or ten men, to protect the sur-
veyors from Indian invasion as they
penetrated the unbroken forests. They
are supposed to be the first white men
ever in this section, — traversing the
Merrimack iMver and its tributaries,
going up Penichuck brook to Peni-
chuck ford, also exploring what has
been known for a period of over two
hundred years as the Witch Brook
Valley, and embraced that portion of
West Dunstable which it is my pur-
pose to describe in this sketch. The
following traditional story is told rel-
ative to its discovery : Witch Brook
was discovered bv those who belonged
1 66
Historical Sketch of West Dunstable.
to the exploring company of Johnson
and Willard. Some of their number
went up this brook quite a distance,
and, leaving its bank to get a view of
the surrounding forests, were unfort-
unate enough to lose their way. Night
came on before they regained the
brook ; and a thick fog set in, which
rendered it extremeh' difficult for the
men to follow it. Some one of their
number remarked that the place was
bewitched, and that the brook was
bewitched : hence, it received its
present name long before an}' settle-
ment was made in the vicinity. There
are many considerations which helped
to promote the early settlements here :
One was, that a great portion of mead-
ow land was made available by rea-
son of the beavers' building their
dams for the purpose of flowing-
ponds, which hunters and trappers
would break ; and the whole tract
was drained, leaving a mowing-field
already cleared for the new settler.
Another consideration was, that the
Indians had planted fields of corn on
the uplands as late as 1665, which
were found ready for cultivation.
And still another reason that actu-
ated the people in settling in this
section was, that its facility for fur
catching was second to no other in
the state.
In 1667 the fur trade with the Ind-
ians had become so important that
the Provincial Court of Massachu-
setts passed an act regulating it ; and
the exclusive right of this trade upon
the Merrimack river was sold toMaj.
Simond Willard for the sum of twen-
ty-five pounds. The trade on Nashua
river was sold at the same time for
eight pounds ; that of Penichuck
brook and its tributaries was sold to
Joseph Burroughs for four pounds.
Almost all the first land grants here
were selected by those eager adven-
turers with a. view of having within
their boi'ders the greatest facilities
for trapping.
During the vear of 1702 the Colo-
nial Court built a trading-house for
the Indians, and established a forti-
fied garrison at Watauic — the Indian
name for Nashua — which was after-
wards called Queen's garrison, and
situated about sixty rods easterly of
Main street in Nashua, and about as
far north of Salmon brook. This
was the head-quarters of trade with
the Indians for many years.
If we consider the appearance and
extent of the primitive forests, in tliB
midst of fiatural scenes like these, it
is not surprising that these bold pio-
neers should select a place like this
to rear their log huts ; for, as Gov.
Wentworth said, tlie royal or mast
pines of Dunstable plains were the
best in New Hampshire ; that they
presented a majestic appearance.
These trees often grew to the height
of two hundred feet, and as straight
as an arrow, many of them forty
inches in diameter. These pines were,
by royal enactment, reserved for the
king's navy, and were marked by the
surveyors of the woods to represent
an Indian arrow, and the owner for-
bidden to cut them.
So great was the security felt by
the settlers at the close of Lovewell's
war that they emigrated into the wil-
derness in every direction. The first
settlement in that part of West Dun-
stable known as Witch Brook Valley
was made about the year 1728 by
Caleb Fr}', according to a copy of an
original draft or plan of the township
Historical Sketch of West Dunstable.
167
of Dunstable by Jonathan Blanchard,
dated June, 1720. This phui is now
in a tolerable state of preservation,
to be seen at the office of the Hills-
borough county registry of deeds at
Nashua. Mr. Fry held a land grant
west of Timothy Rodgers's grant, ly-
ing on the west side of Penichuck
pond, and embraced nearly all the
territory now included in District No.
8 in the town of HoUis, lying west of
the school-house. According to tra-
dition, he came from Andover, was a
son of James Fry, who was a soldier
in the Narragansett war of 1676, and
a brother of James Fry of Andover,
one of the grantees of Souhegan
West, afterwards called Amherst.
That Mr. Fry was the first one to
occupy his own laud grant in all this
section is evident from the fact that
he built a turning-mill, and operated
it a number of years. This mill was
situated on the little gulf brook, east
side of Ridge hill, so called, about
twenty rods south of the road at the
Spalding place, in the north part of
HoUis. At a short distance easterly
from this mill is still to be seen the
place of au old cellar-hole, indicating
that a dwelling once stood there. It
was on this spot in the wilderness
that Mr. Fry erected his log hut. It
is evident that he cultivated a piece
of land, and set out thereon three
apple-trees, one of which is now
standing, and in bearing condition,
over one hundred and fifty years old,
and is the largest apple-tree in the
town of Hollis. Mr. Fry also manu-
factured wooden ware, and was em-
ployed a portion of the time in trap-
ping. At what time he left here I am
unable to say, but it was before 1746.
The early landmarks have disap-
peared, and it is not easy to repro-
duce the scenes in which they planted
their habitations. To men employed
in subjugating the forests, fighting
wild men and wild beasts, clearing
lots, and making paths, there was na
leisure, and little disposition, to make
records of their doings.
The following story is told of one
Joseph Burroughs, who came from
Charlestown, Mass., and settled in
the Dunstable wilderness, as they
called it, sometime about the year
1735, and became a transient resident
in the Witch Brook Valley territory,
about half a mile west of Penichuck
pond on the hill south of the Capt.
Parker place :
It is said of him that he was a mere
trapper and hunter, and only resided
here during the fall and winter ; but
it is very doubtful what part of the
year he was here most, for it seems
that he belonged to a horse-thief gang,
and used to secrete stolen horses and
other property here at different times.
There was every advantage for carr}'-
ing on that kind of business, for there
was but one settler in the whole re-
gion, — Mr. Fry, who lived about a
mile distant. The entrance to the
cave where he kept his stolen prop-
erty was made through the roots of
a huge upturned tree. Mr. Burroughs
was at one time connected with a
band of pirates who had robbed a
Spanish merchant vessel off the coast
of North America, and, wishing to
find a place to bury their treasures,
engaged him to pilot them up the
Merrimack river, tiience up Peni-
chuck brook to the pond ; and they
buried their money on the island east
of the pond. This incident formed
the theme of conversation among the
1 68
Literature, ^laint and Curious.
old inhabitants for many years after-
wards. So strong was the belief
that money had been buried there,
that people dug a large portion of the
island over, with the expectation of
finding it ; and many a ghost story is
told in connection with this event.
Mr. Burroughs became a large laud-
owner, and many of the real estate
conveyances of the early settlers were
given by him. It is supposed that he
went back to Charlestown, and died
there. It was also understood that
he was a connection of the notorious
Stephen Burroughs, who, it was said,
at one time made counterfeit money
at the very place where his uncle
used to secrete stolen property.
These are some of the incidents
connected with the early settlement
of the north part of Hollis, which I
have been fortunate enough to col-
lect.
LITERATURE, QUAINT AND CURIOUS.
By L. E. D.
In a pile of age-browned, long-for-
gotten pamphlets is one entitled
"The Examination
of Doctor Benjamin Franklin
before an August Assembly relating to
the Repeal of the Stamp Act, &c."
It is a catechism of twenty-three
pages, a few extracts from which may
prove interesting.
Q. What is your Name and Place
of abode ?
A. Franklin, of Philadelphia.
Q. Do the Americans pa}' any con-
siderable taxes among themselves?
A. Certainly, many, and very heavy
taxes.
Q. What are the present taxes in
Pennsylvania laid by the laws of the
Colony ?
A. There are taxes on all estates,
real and i)ersonal, a poll-tax, a tax on
all ofHces, professions, trades, and
businesses, according to their profits ;
an excise upon all wine, ram, and
other spirits ; and a duty of ten pounds
per head on all negroes imported, with
some other duties.
Q. For what purposes are those
taxes laid?
A. For the support of the civil and
military establishments of the coun-
try, and to discharge the heavy debt
contracted in the last war.
Q. How long are those taxes to
continue?
A. Those for discharging the debt
are to continue till 1772, and longer,
if the debt should not then be all dis-
charged. The others must always
continue.
Q. Was it not expected that the
debt would have been sooner dis-
charged ?
A. It was, when the peace was
made with France «& Spain — But a
fresh war breaking out with the Ind-
ians, a fresh load of debt was incur-
red ; and the taxes, of course, con-
tinued longer bv a new law.
Literature, ^laint and Curious.
169
Q. Are not all the people very able
to pay those taxes ?
A. No. The Frontier counties, all
along the continent, having been fre-
quently ravished by the enemy, and
greatly impoverished, are able to pay
very little tax. And therefore, in
consideration of their distresses, our
late tax laws do expressly favour
these counties, excusing the sufferers ;
and I suppose the same is done in
other governments.
Q. Are you not concerned in the
management of the Post-Oftice in
America ?
A. Yes, I am Deputy Post-Master
General of North America.
Q. Don't you think the distribu-
tion of stamps by post, to all the in-
habitants, very practicable, if there
was no opposition ?
A. The posts only go along the sea
coasts ; they do not, except in a few
instances, go back into the country ;
and if they did, sending for stamps
by post would occasion an expense of
postage, amounting, in man}' cases,
to much more than that of the stamps
themselves.
Q. Are you acquainted in New-
foundland ?
A. I never was there.
Q. Do 3^ou know whether there are
any post roads on that Island .''
A. I have heard that there are no
roads at all ; but that the communica-
tion between one settlement and an-
other is by the sea only.
Q. Can you disperse the stamps by
post in Canada?
A. There is only a post lietween
Montreal and Quebec. The inhabi-
tants are so scattered and remote
from each other, in that vast country,
that posts cannot be supported among
them, and therefore they cannot get
stamps by post. The English Colo-
nies, too, along the frontiers, are very
thinly settled.
Q. From the thinness of the back
settlements, would not the stamp act
be extremely inconvenient to the in-
habitants, if executed?
A. To be sure it would ; as many
of the inhabitants could not ffet
stamps when they had occasion for
them, without taking long journeys,
and spending perhaps Three or Four
Pounds, that the crown might get six
pence.
Q. Are not the Colonies, from tlieir
circumstances, very able to pay the
stamp duty ?
A. In my opinion, there is not gold
and silver enough in the Colonies to
pay the stamp duty for one year.
'if; % ^ ^ %
Q. What number of white inhabi-
tants do you think there are in Penn-
sylvania?
A. I suppose there may be about
160,000.
Q. What number of them are
Quakers ?
A. Perhaps a third.
Q. What number of Germans?
A. Perhaps another third ; but I
cannot speak with certainty.
*****
Q. How many white men do you
suppose there are in North America?
A. About 300,000 from sixteen to
sixty years of age.
Q. What may be the amount of one
3'ear's imports into Pennsylvania from
Britain ?
A. I have been informed that our
merchants compute the imports from
Britain to be above 500,000 pounds.
Q. What may be the amount of the
170
Literature^ ^laint and Curious.
produce of your province exported to
Britain ?
A. It must be small, as we produce
little that is wanted in Britain. I sup-
pose that it cannot exceed 40,000
Pounds.
*****
Q. You have said that you pay
heavy taxes in Pennsylvania ; what
do they amount to in the pound?
A. The tax on all estates, real and
personal, is eighteen pence in the
pound, fully rated ; and the tax on
the profits of trades and professions,
with other taxes, do, I sui)pose, make
full half a crown in the pound.
» * * * , *
Q. What was the temper of Amer-
ica towards Great Britain before the
year 1763?
A. The best in the world. They
submitted willingly to the government
of the Crown, and paid, in all their
courts, obedience to acts of parlia-
ment. Numerous as the people are
in the several old provinces, they cost
you nothing in forts, citadels, garri-
sons, or armies, to keep them in sub-
jection. They were governed by this
country at the expense only of a little
pen, ink, and paper. They were led
by a tiiread. They had not only a
respect, but an affection, for Great
Britain, for its laws, its customs and
manners, and even a fondness for its
fashions, that greatly increased the
commerce. Natives of Britain were
always treated with particular regard ;
to 1)1' an Old England man was, of it-
self, a character of some respect, and
gave a kind of rank among us.
(J. And what is their temper
now ?
A. (^, very much altered,
*****
Q. And have they not still the same
respect for parliament?
A. No ; it is greatly lessened.
Q. To what cause is that owing?
A. To a concurrence of causes :
the restraints lately laid on their
trade, by which the bringing of for-
eitrn o-old and silver into the colonies
was prevented ; the prohibition of
making paper money among them-
selves, and then demanding a new
and heavy tax for stamps ; taking
away at the same time trials by ju-
ries, and refusing to receive & hear
their humble petitions.
Q. Don't you think they would
submit to the stamp-act if it was
modified, the obnoxious parts taken
out, and the duties reduced to some
particulars, of small moment?
A. No ; the}' will never submit to it.
*****
Q. What is your opinion of a fu-
ture tax imposed on the same princi-
ple with that of the stamp-act ; how
would the Americans receive it?
A. Just as they do this. They
would not pay it.
*****
Q. Do n't you think cloth from Eng-
land absolutely necessary to them?
A. No ; by no means absolutely
necessary ; with industr}' and good
management they may very well sup-
ply themselves with all they want.
Q. Will it not take a long time to
establish that manufacture among
them? and must they not meanwhile
suffer greatly?
A. I think not. They have made
a surprising progress already. And
I am of opinion that before their old
cloths are worn out, the}' will have
new ones of their own making.
*
*
The Gull Rock.
171
Q. If the act is not repealed, what
do you think will be the consequences ?
A. A total loss of the res[)ect and
affection the people of America bear
to this country, and of all the com-
merce that depends on that respect
and affection.
Q. How can the commerce be af-
fected ?
A. Yon will find that if the act is
not repealed, they will take very little
of your manufactures in a short time.
Q. Is it in their power to do with-
out them?
A. I think they may very well do
without them.
Q. Is it their interest not to take
them ?
A. The goods they take fronj Brit-
ain are either necessaries, mere con-
veniences, or superfluities. The first,
as cloth, &c., with a little industry
they can make at home ; the second
they can do without till they are able
to. provide them among themselves ;
and the last, which are much the
greater part, they will strike off im-
mediately. They are mere articles of
fashion, purchased and consumed be-
cause the fashion in a respected coun-
try, but will now be detested and re-
jected. The people have already
struck off, by general agreement, the
iuse of allgoods.fashionable in mourn-
ings, and many thousand pounds
worth are sent back as unsalable.
* * * * *
Q. If the stamp-act should be re-
pealed, would it induae the assemblies
of America to acknowledge the rights
of parliament to tax them, and would
they erase their resolutions?
A. No, never.
Q. Is there no means of obliging
them to erase those resolutions.^
A. None that I know of ; they will
never do it unless compelled by force
of arms.
Q. Is there no power on earth that
can force them to erase them?
A. No power, how great soever,
can force men to change their opin-
ions.
*****
Q. Would it be most for the inter-
est of Great Britain to employ the
hands of Virginia in tobacco or in
manufactures ?
A. In tobacco to be sure.
Q. Wiiat used to be the pride of
Americans?
A. To indulge in the fashions and
manufactures of Great Britain.
Q. What is now their pride?
A. To wear their old cloaths over
again till they can make new ones.
Withdrew.
The End."
THE GULL ROCK.
Down at the winding river's mouth,
When the tide has ebbed far out,
A long black rock from out the sands
Raises it smutty snout.
And there by the hundreds, in the sun.
When the low tide fairly sings.
Come the laughing, chattering, screaming gulls
To preen their snowy wings.
172 • The Gull Rock.
Squatting so closely, each to each,
That the ledge cannot be seen.
They perch and gossip cosily,
And eat the muscles green.
So thickly perch the snowy clans.
The ledge is a thing of life,
And would almost seem to rise and soar
Above the billows' strife.
Hour after hour they sit, asleep.
With head beneath the wing,
Or else disturb their neighbors all.
And scream, and laugh, and sing.
They perch in peace and sun themselves,
A gay, harmonious band.
Till the laggard tide comes crawling up
Across the broad, flat sand,
And reaches, in its sure advance.
The ramparts of the rock.
And serried lines of waves charge up
Like soldiers at a fort,
And reach and clutch and flow around,
And deluge, in their spite.
The fortress strong they cannot shake
With all their skill and might.
Then rise the gulls, a snowy cloud,
On tireless wings to soar,
And sail, like phantoms, in delight.
Along the sounding shore.
How swift they rush ! how high they fly !
Then sweep, with pinions set,
High over all the leaping spray,
Above the gray sands wet.
For well they know in a few hours
Again the rock will be
Triumphant, left all dry by the
\'anquished, retreating sea.
And so they rise and soar away :
What grace ! what ease ! what might ! —
In wondrous, airy, gleaming curves,
And graceful lines of flight.
Screaming and laughing at their wild,
Mad revels in tlie air,
Until again the ledge shall be
Left for tliem fresh and bare.
Lahc Winnifiscog-ec in October.
173
LAKE WINNIPISEOGEE IN OCTOBER.
By Fred Myron Colby.
" He it was whose hand in Autumn
Tainted all the trees with scarlet,
Stained the trees with red and yellow."
Six years ago, near the noon of a
mild October day, the writer first
stepped on board the dainty '■' Lady of
the Lake," one of the small steamers
that ply between the places of interest
on the shores of Winnipiseogee,
and from its forward upper deck
first enjoyed the glorious view of the
lake from The Wiers, the tree-crowned
islands dotting its surface, the undu-
lations of the sweeping shores, and
all those attractive features so often
descrilied by tourists, and which Ed-
ward Everett declared rivalled all he
had seen " from the Highlands of
Scotland to the Golden Horn of Con-
stantinople, from the summits of the
Hartz Mountains to the Fountain of
Yaucluse." Since then my footsteps
have wandered almost yeai-ly to this
mountain lake, set like a gem in the
heart of New Hampshire ; but of all
my annual pilgrimages none has
given me greater satisfaction than the
first. My other visits have been
made in June, or in August, during the
hot midsummer days. To see the
lake in its glory, it should be visited
in the fall. The sedative influence
and peculiar quiet of the scene during
the charming days of an Indian sum-
mer, with the bright tints of an
autumnal foliage, graduating to the
soft haze of the mountain blue, re-
flected in its waters, are most wonder-
ful and enchanting. Then, indeed,
the lake is most worthy of its aborigi-
nal name— "The Smile of the Great
Spirit."
With one foot upon the very out-
skirts of civilization, and the other
pressing the unreclaimed forest that
stretches dark and unbroken north-
wards. Lake Winnipiseogee forms
the connectino; link between man and
nature, a link that, is naturally a
quaint and curious compound of both
extremes, where one may at will
solace himself with all the comforts
and delicacies that man's art can pi'o-
cui'e ; or, turning his face northward
and forestward, plunge all at once
into solitude so dense and unbroken
that lie can, with scarcely an effort,
fancy himself the solitary discoverer
of a new and hitherto unknown woi-ld.
The cultivation is limited around
the immediate borders of the lake.
Scai'cely are the surroundings less
wild than they were in 16o2, when
Captains Edward Johnson and Simon
Willard carved their initials, which
are still visible, on the Eudicott rock
near its outlet. The straggling par-
ties of Indians, who pass by it now on
their way to trade with the visitors at
the great hotels in the cities and
among the mountains, see it but little
more civilized in expression than their
forefathers did, whose wigwams, be-
fore New Hampshire felt the white
man's foot, spotted the meadows of
the Merrimack below, —
" Where the old smoked in silence their pipes, and
the young
To the pike and the white perch their baited
lines flung;
Where the boy shaped his arrows, and where
the shy maid
Wove her many-hued baskets and bright wam-
pum braid."'
And yet in no way is it a sense of
seclusion amid the forests, of being
174
Lake Winnifiseogce in October.
shut in by untamed hills amid the
heart of the wilderness, that Winui-
piseogee inspires. Indeed, the lake
is not shut in by any abrupt mountain
walls. Its islands and shores fringe
the water with winding lines, and long,
low, narrow capes of green. But
the mountains retreat gradually back
from them, with large spaces of
cheerful light, or vistas of more
gently sloping land between. The
whole impression is not of wild, but
of cheerful and symmetrical, beauty.
The form of the lake is very irreg-
ular. At the west end are three
large bays ; on the north is a fourth ;
and at the east are three others. Its
greatest length approximates thirty
miles, and in width it varies from
one to ten miles. Its waters lie at
an altitude of five hundred feet above
the sea level. The sources of the
lake are principally from springs in
its own bosom. Its outlet is a rapid
river of the same name. Here and
there along its shores, crowning
pleasant hillsides, or lying in some
quiet nook, are pleasant villages :
Centre Harbor, Wolfeborough, Alton
Bay, Lake Village are of these, but
more frequently green slopes of hills
and dark forests, interspersed with
projecting rocks covered with moss
and wild flowers, border and are re-
flected back by the dark blue waters.
Winnipiseogee is a queen, an Indian
queen if you will, but yet, like Solo-
mon's dark beauty in the Canticles,
exquisitely comely. In fact, no more
beautiful lake exists under Italian or
tropical skies than this same moun-
tain-girted Winnipiseogee, with its
pure, unfathornable waters, and the
three hundred and sixt3'-five fairy-
like islands dotting its pellucid sur-
face ; one, indeed, to each day of the
twelve calendar months. Is there a
providence in it that this lake, as
well as Lake George and Casco bay,
should bear just that number of bright
green gems upon their bosoms?
Famous as is Lake Winnipiseogee
for its beautiful surroundings, lovely
islands, and sparkling waters, there
are but a few people who realize its
value as a reservoir of motive power,
who stop to think that it has called
into being Lacouia, Franklin, Con-
cord, Hooksett, Manchester, Nashua,
Lawrence, and Lowell, and that if
some upheaval of nature should top-
ple into it the hills and mountains
that surround it, those places, with
all their thriving industries, -would
wither and die. It is in reality the
heart of central New Hampshire and
Massachusetts. Its waters are the
life blood, the source of the wealth,
thrift, and prosperity of the whole
Merrimack valley. The Merrimack
river is said to turn a greater number
of water wheels than any other of
equal length on the earth, and it is
capable, when all its privileges are
improved, of doing much more than
it does now ; but the Merrimack is
little more than the great lake let
loose, and without that reservoir
would be of small use in manufac-
turing.
This fact is fully realized by the
Massachusetts manufacturing corpor-
ation which has control of the outlet
at The Wiers, and watches with the
closest attention every rise and fall
of its waters, which are gathered and
stored up in wet seasons and let loose
in dry. The manufacturers of New
Hampshire are of course as vitally
interested in the matter as their Mas-
Lake Winnipiseogcc in October
^1S
sachusetts competitors, but as the
water needs must ruu through their
canals to get to the state line, they
find it profitable and convenient to
leave the management of the gate to
others. It takes about three davs for
the water to run from The Wiers to
Lowell, "When a drouth is threatened
at the upper place, the agent at the
lake is notified to send down a sup-
ply, and the flood is let loose. When
there is plenty of water below, the
gates are closed. AVhen there is a
heav3' shower on the Pemigewasset,
or Contoocook, or Nashua, this of
course helps swell the Merrimack,
and the lake water is not needed. In
short, the water is drawn from the
lake only when enough cannot be
obtained from other sources to do the
work. In some seasons of the year
the lake will evaporate half an inch a
da}', which is as much as is drawn
when the gates are up. During fifteen
years prior to 1877 the lake was not
full; in 1877, 1878, and 1879 it was
filled ; while in 1880 it was at no time
within six inches of high water mark,
and last year was a full foot below
the mark.
It is only within a score of years
that Winnipiseogee has acquired a
distinctive fame as a summer resort.
Half a century ago it had an occa-
sional straggling admirer, or possibly
a company from the back country in
the summer season, to appreciate its
beauties and enjoy its lonely solitude.
Without doubt the modern "dis-
coverer" of the lake, in the sense of
which we are about to speak, was
that noted divine and elegant writer,
Rev. Thomas Starr Kino;. Mr. Kins;
was the modern Columbus of Winni-
piseogee. His errand this way was
not so much to fish for men as for
bass, pike, and salmon, though he
never lost an opportunity for either
in its season. He was here in 1853,
two full centuries after Johnson and
Willard first looked over the sparkling
tide. His pilgrimages to the spot
became annual until his removal to
San Francisco in 1860. His name
and his descriptions brought the lake
gradually to the attention of the sum-
mer pleasure-seekers of the great
Atlantic cities, and when his book,
"The White Hills," came out, Win-
nipiseogee was made famous. The
tide thus set in motion in this direc-
tion was limited at first, consisting
of veteran sportsmen who came to
rough it, and of a few families of
taste and culture who secured board
among the farmers on the lake shore.
The recent vast expansion of the
"vacation fashion," one of the best
and most sensible fashions that ever
seized the American mind, has poured
out floods of city gained wealth upon
many a once barren seashore and
wilderness solitude, and filled them
with a joyous, health-seeking, summer
throng of the best classes of people.
Among all these new Edens which
this surprising exodus has developed,
we venture to affirm that not one any-
where has a greater variety and abun-
dance of natural advantages, and few
have greater artificial improvements
of the right sort, than this marvellous
fairy realm of Lake Winnipiseogee.
Although lacking the great histori-
cal interest which enshrines Lake
George, the country around Winni-
piseogee is by no means uaclassic
ground. Several tribes of Indians
had their homes around the shores of
this lake in former times, and nearly
176
Lake Winnifiseogce in October.
every spot is conDected with a legend
or some association of the past. The
lake was the fishing ground of the
Ossipees, the Pequaketts, and the
Winnipisaukees, once mighty tribes,
and the traces of their footsteps have
not yet disappeared. Relics, skele-
tons, and implements of their labor
are even now turned up with the sod ;
and besides, they have left to us that
musical patronymic which the lake
now bears — evidence that the abo-
rio^ines were not insensible to the
charms of nature here so profusely
exhibited.
Sitting here at my table, yet "sail-
ing the lake over," nothing gives me
greater pleasure than to return a vote
of thanks to the early settlers of the
Granite state, because, instead of
spoiling this lake by some dreadful,
common-place appellation, they just
let it alone. And so Winnipiseogee
it is, thanks to the aborigines ! Who
shall say that the savage who wan-
dered through these hunting-grounds,
or skimmed over this placid lake in
his birchen craft, was insensible to
the charms of nature, when, as he
gazed, he cried, "This is Winni-
piseogee," — "The Smile of the Great
Spirit"? Which of the two was the
poet, the man who dared to call those
sublime summits, sixty miles away,
the "White Hills," or the savage,
to whom tliey were the mysterious
" Agiocochook," which he never dared
to ascend, because he imagined them
peopled witl) invisible spirits, who
controlled the storms and tempests?
There may be nothing in a name,
after all, but I do thank our Whittier
for wresting "Round pond," in Ha-
verhill, Mass., from sacrilegious
hands, and returning it to its abo-
rio;inal christening as "Kenosha
lake." I only wish he would do the
same to "Plug pond" (think of it!),
a neighboring charming bit of water.
If there is nothing else that can save
our picturesque gems of nature from
such commonplace and oftentimes
vulgar names, let us bv all means
turn to the vocabulary of the aborigi-
nal poet, and humbly rechristen them.
There has been a dispute among
the learned in Indian lore as to the
true rendering of the word Winni-
piseogee. Does it mean "The Smile
of the Great Spirit," or "Pleasant
Water in a High Place"? Some
scholars favor the former, while the
latter has no less earnest advocates.
Whatever the word means, the lake
itself signifies both. To[)ographically,
under the surveyor's eye and the mill
owner's estimate, it is pleasant water
in a high place. To the poet, and all
who have an eye anointed like his, it
is the smile of the Great Spirit. lu
this connection it may be well to re-
late the origin of tlie name accordiag
to the Indian tradition, which may
be taken for what it is worth, though,
for that matter, it is probably as true
as many in the white men's annals.
We curtail it of most of its rhetorical
appendages, and give the mere out-
line of the legend.
p]llacoya, daughter of the proud
chief Ahanton, was the belle of the
Indian land. She was beautiful as a
sunbeam, and the willow by the lake-
side was not more fair. Like a wild
fawn was she upon the hills ; her
voice wa,s like the music of rippling
waters. Far and wide went the re-
nown of her beautv among the tribes,
and many were the chiefs who sought
her hand. But she listened not to
Lake Winnipiscogce in October.
177
their wooing, but still claucecl 00 in
her maidenhood, free as the birds
that twittered in the boughs above
her father's lodge by the lake shore.
One day, however, there came sail-
ing across the lake in his birchen
canoe a young chief whom Ellacoya
had never seen before. At the first
glance she knew she loved him, for
the warrior was young and brave and
handsome, and wore on his head the
eagle plumes of a great sagamore.
"My name is Kona," said the
stranger chief, "and I have come
from the midst of yonder blue hills to
woo Ellacoya, the Light of the Beau-
tiful "Water. Will she go with me?
"Will she leave her father's wigwam,
and be the wife of Kona, the Eagle ?"
He had advanced and taken the
hand of the princess ere he spoke,
and now bending till his eagle plumes
touched her dark cheek, he waited
for his answer. Looking up into his
with her dusky eyes, at last she said, —
"Ellacova loves the vouno; chief.
The words of Kona have stolen into
her heart. She will go with him if
her father will but consent."
"Then Kona will ask no more,"
said the sagamore. "Let him see
the sachem. He has been an enemy,
but he will be his foeman no longer
if he will give him Ellacoya for his
wife."
At that very moment Ahanton, re-
turning from a foray, his face flushed
with victory, his falcon plumes danc-
ing in the breeze, advanced to where
they stood. Darkly lowered the
chieftain's brow as his fierce eyes
fell on the form of his enemy. He
grasped his tomahawk, and half
raised it in his hand, when his daugh-
ter sprang before him. Wildly she
raised her pleading eyes to his, and
with clasped hands, said, —
"Oh! spare him! spare Kona the
Eagle, for Ellacoya loves him. Slay
him, and Ellacoya dies too. She
cannot live without him."
Ahanton's half raised arm fell pow-
erless, the vindictive fury vanished
from his face. A soft glow succeeded
the fiery burning in his eyes. He
stood a moment silent, then, leading
his daughter by the hand, he went to
where the young chief stood with
folded arms waiting for his time to
speak.
"Kona the Young Eagle is a great
chief," said the sachem, "and he is
brave. He has come into the villasfe
of his enemies like a noble warrior,
and not like a dog or a creeping
snake. The heart of Ahanton has
gone forth to meet him. Would he
take the fair flower from her father's
wigwam to be his wife? If he would,
Ellacoya shall go with him, and here-
after between Ahanton and the Young
Eagle there shall be peace."
"Then let the chief swear it,"
cried the young warrior, "for Kona
loves the Light of the Beautiful
Water, and she shall sit in his lodge
and sing to his children among the
murmuring pines, beyond the dark
blue hills to the northward."
"By the Great Manitou I swear
it!" said Ahanton, "and may his
lightning scathe the one who breaks
the bond between us."
Thus was Ellacoya wooed and won.
Two nights and days they feasted in
the village by the lake. There were
hunts and mimic battles among the
warriors, and dances strange and
fantastic among the Indian maids.
On the third day the young chief
178
Lake Winnifiseogee in October.
signified bis intention of returning.
His canoe was loosened from its
inoorings, and Ellacoya, accompanied
by a train of forest girls, went with
him to the water's edge. Ellacoya
stepped with him into the boat, the
young chief took the paddles, and
they rowed from the shore.
A dozen barges, containing Ahanton
and his bravest warriors, followed in
their wake. The morning sun shone
brightly upon the silver waters of the
lake, and the dash of the oars lit up
the broad translucent surface with the
flash of diamonds. In the middle of
the lake they paused. The young
chief rested on his paddle, and Ahan-
ton swept up in his barge.
" Let Kona the Young Eagle depart,"
said the grim chieftain. "There is
peace between thee and me, between
thy people and my people. Thou
hast taken the light from the lodge of
Ahanton : let her be the bond between
us."
"The Young Eagle goes to his home
with a happy heart, for he has won
bis heart's love," answered Kona.
" To Ahanton he will ever be a friend.
And, see, the Great Spirit looks down
and smiles upon us."
It seemed indeed as if Heaven was
smiling upon them, for the lake was
all agleam as if with kindly love.
Gently and pleasantly the flashing
waters rippled and shivered around
them. The tiny wavelets seem to woo
and beckon, their silvery crests alight
with laughs and smiles. The red
warriors caught the bright glow of
the sunlit waters, and their romantic
natures responded to the spell.
" It is a happy omen," cried Ahan-
ton. "The Manitou is pleased, and
your union will be one of love, peace.
and happiness. Hereafter, that the
tribes may know that there is peace
between us, let the water be known
as The Smile of the Great Spirit —
Winnipiseogee."
The facility with which this beauti-
ful lake is reached by the various
routes places it within the means of
every one to visit its scenery. In the
warm season the two elegant steamers,
"The Lady of the Lake" and the
"Mount Washington," ply upon the
lake ; two points at which it may be
approached from the south, and two
points of departure for the mountains.
The former runs between Wiers sta-
tion in Laconia, Centre Harbor, and
Wolfeborough; and the latter between
Alton Bay, Wolfeborough, and Centre
Harbor. The Boston, Concord &
Montreal Railroad connects with the
former at Wiers, and the Boston «&
Maine with the latter at Alton Bay.
At Wolfeborough there is a rail con-
nection with the Eastern Railroad by
the Wolfeborough Branch at Wolfe-
borough Junction, in Wakefield. The
distance of the lake from Boston is
little more than a hundred miles.
Bv far the greater number of visi-
tors to Lake Winnipiseogee land at
the Wiers, a station on the Montreal
road. To those who regard this
pleasant little hamlet merel}' as a con-
venient place to dine in, or perhaps to
secure a night's rest before going
farther up the lake, I would say, after
the country fashion, "That's where
you made your mistake ;" for some of
the grandest and most beautiful scen-
ery, to say nothing of certain wonder-
ful fishing privileges, is to be found in
this vicinity. Indeed, the place grows
upon one the longer he lingers.
There are two large hotels on the lake
Lake Winnifiscogcc in October.
179
shore, and further up the hillside,
overlooking the lake, is the Wiune-
coette house, kept by Mr, Doolittle.
In the grove on the hillside is the lo-
cality chosen b}' the veterans of the
last war in which to hold their annual
campfires. The place is also the site
of the annual camp-meetings of the
Methodists of New England. Here
is their auditorium, surrounded by
the tabernacles of various village con-
srewatious. There are winding walks
cleared through the undergrowth,
swings swung from lofty branches,
and several croquet lawns.
At camp-meeting time the people
gather to this spot by thousands.
At morning, noon, and night there is
a song of praise, in which ever}' voice
joins, rising and swelling upon the
air in a grand diapason, which makes
the usual "church singing" appear, as
it often is, the most effete of all the
services of religion. Tent, cottage,
boarding-house, grove, and beach are
all vocal with Jehovah's praise. Sun-
ny-faced childhood and furrowed
cheeks, alike forgetting their youth
or years, join in the songs with en-
raptured gladness, while Heaven bends
to listen to the strain. Then the sun-
set gates of the skv roll back their
bars of gold in such a way as almost
to leave the impression that the
"Gates Ajar" were something more
than a poetic fancy, and that the
ansrels had drawn back those golden
bolts to listen to the song.
An evenino; at the Wiers at such a
time, especially a moonlight evening,
is something for a poet to rave about.
There is a quiet, a stillness, that is
almost solemn ; all discordant sounds
are hushed. The moon shines with
a soft, mellow light, the winds are in
a whisper, the trees are either silent
and motionless, or speak together in
such low tones that they make onl}'
a soft lullaby to the soul. The waters
of the lake sleep in tranquil beauty in
the holy light, on the peaceful shore
the ripples musically murmur, and if
we look upon the water we shall see
the lengthened image of the moon be-
come a straight upright column of
gold hanging in the sapphire deep.
In the morning we will take our
seats on the upper deck of the little
steamer whose white garments, border-
ed with a band of gilt, floated in the
breeze from the prow of her name-
sake ; the gangway plank is landed,
and we are off across the rippling sur-
face of the lake. The sky is clear ;
there are just clouds enough to re-
lieve the soft blue, and fleck the sen-
tinel hills with shadows ; and over
the wide panorama of distant mount-
ains a soft dreamy violet haze settles,
tinging them, as Emerson savs the
south wind, in May days,
" Tints the human countenance
With a colo)' of romance."
The vast flood of Winnipiseogee is
shut in here by the jutting points of
adjacent islands- which would seem to
bar all progress in any direction. The
scenery, an unending panorama of
the Isles of the Great Spirit, floats by
like a glorious painting, as we wind
in and out of the mazy channels that
form this mighty labyrinth of land
and water. Some of these islands
are high and bold, some low and flat.
Some are densly wooded with pine,
oak, birch, and maple ; some are
almost bare. Some have a thicket of
bushes, over Avhich towers a single
lofty pine. Others have gravelly
beaches, rarely sandy coves, and
i8o
Lake Winnipiseogee in October.
many have rocky shores. Now we
creep around a green and grassy
point, now under an ancient tree
whose gnarled and drooping arms al-
most sweep our deck. Again we are
lost in the solemn shadow of a stern
and lofty cliff, whose perpendicular
front is seamed and shattered by the
great angular notches peculiar to
granite in which feldspar largely pre-
dominates. Over the beetling brow
of this cliff leans a dark, densely tuft-
ed, rugged pine, with one huge pro-
jecting limb that runs out horizontally
far over the water, like the arm of a
black giant stretched out in silent
threatening toward lake and sky ; or
perhaps as a guardian sentinel over
the deep and shadowy dell, carpeted
with winter-green, that winds inland
from the foot of the cliff.
We pass Bear island and Rattle-
snake island, the former a large, green,
sloping isle, with an outline not unlike
the back of a bear ; the other a small,
dome-like shaped islet, which in for-
mer times abounded with the crotalus
horridus, many of which were of un-
usually large size. Rattlesnakes ex-
ceeding ten feet in length were fre-
quently found on this island, but the
species is nearly extinct in this section.
Beyond Bear island, as the steamer
shoots across a little bay, we get a
noble view of the Sandwich range,
the most striking picture, perhaps, to
be seen on the lake. As you look up
the bay between Red Hill on the left
and the Ossipee Mountains on the
right, the whole chain is seen several
miles away. At the first glance the
mountains almost seem to be floating
in the air, and we almost expect to
see them fade away the next moment.
But, no, there they are, though looking
weird and unsubstantial, lonely Cho-
corua, who seems to have pushed his
fellows away from him, standing
farthest away in the north-west.
The hills are sleeping, and the water
around you has the same quality of a
still ecstasy. That is dreaming too —
dreaming, perhaps, of the splendor of
old days, when the red man's craft
alone disturbed its bosom.
Another view, scarcely less lovely
and much more grand and exciting,
is where one gets a passing glimpse
of Mount Washington from the
steamer's deck. We have passed
the westerly declivity of the Ossipee
range, and, looking across a low slope
of the Sandwich range and far back
of them, we see a dazzling white
spot gleaming on the northern hori-
zon. As we look, it mounts higher
and higher into the sky, add assumes
a majesty that is unmistakable.
Why should old Whiteface, which
seems, at a careless glance, much
higher by its nearness, or the hauglity
Chocorua, produce less jo3^ous, less
sublime emotions than that tinted
etching on the northern sky ? That
mountain in the north, dimgra3'in
the distance except the dome that is
crowned with winter, is Mount Wash-
ington, the king of the White Moun-
tains. Towering from its plateau
built for its throne, more than fifty
miles away, is the crest that has no
rival in our northern latitude this
side the Rocky Mountains, and from
which a wider area can be measured
by the eye than can be seen elsewhere
on the eastern side of the Mississijipi.
The little craft steams on. Now
we float through a still, deep cove,
around whose margins the great pike
basks under the broad green lily-pads.
Lake Winnipiscogec in October.
i8i
Then we pass through a narrow strait
between two bold, dark headlands,
where the deep water boils and whirls
and foams. Anon we turn a point,
and lie as in a cradle in a little emer-
ald bay, with a wooded beach at one
side sloping to the crinkling waves.
A verdant thicket comes down to the
marge at two points. There is grass
between, and a tufted hemlock over-
head. Great Nature made this as a
spot where she might take her lovers
to her heart. Diana's white limbs
would shine like pearl beneath those
translucent waters. It is like an Ar-
cadian scene, or a pictured dell in an
Ionian isle. Perhaps some Indian
Undine had her home there in the old
time. A group of girls on the shore
beneath the umbrageous foliage re-
minds us of the scene in the Odyssey
where Nausicaa and her maids come
down to the tide to comfort Ulysses
the wanderer.
To the left, crowning the delightful
slope of a hill, is Centre Harbor, one
of the points of rest on the shores of
the lake. We have steamed ten miles
since we left Wiers Landing, and it
has been like a voyage to another
world. Here, for a time, we rest. A
spacious hotel with broad piazzas
tempts us to enter. We wander up
a winding walk, and through arched,
vine-covered arbors strung along the
flower-bordered path, to the portal.
It is the Senter House, five hundred
and fifty-three feet above the level of
the sea, and commanding an extend-
ed and delightful view of the lake.
Some of the most enchanting drives
in the world can be had in this vicin-
ity. One of the most interesting ex-
cursions is to the summit of Red Hill,
which rises five miles distant, and
stands some over two thousand feet
above the sea. The eminence owes
its name to the fact that it is covered
with the uva ursa, the leaves of which
have the most vivid red color imagin-
able in the autumn. Every one visits
it, and it is the place above all others
to study the lake, which is spread,
with all its varied beauty of mirror-
ing waters, green islands, graceful
curving shores, and picturesque coves,
at its feet. Says Starr King, — "Who-
ever misses the view from Red Hill
loses the most fascinating and thor-
oughly enjoyable view from a modern
mountain height that can be gained
from any eminence in the tourist's
path."
Though it is still late in the season,
the hotels are full. New York, Bos-
ton, and Providence have sent their
elite, and Philadelphia and Chicago
have representatives here. What a
wonderful glimpse of the great un-
known world of wealth and fashion
is opened to the bashful rustic, as,
standing on the broad hotel piazza at
Centre Harbor, he witnesses the ar-
rival of the six-horse Conway stages
as they roll down from the mountains
sixty miles away, and dash up to the
hotel steps, followed by the descent
of linen-wrapped travellers, hardly
recognizable under the extra covering
of mountain dust, and then the bang
and rattle of big "Saratogas," which,
recklessly tossed from the lofty
perches to the piazza, envelop him
in a cloud of choking, blinding dust !
With what awe he watches the pretty
groups of low-voiced, daintily dressed
"• city boarders," as they flit about the
balconies and through the long parlors.
Ah ! fashion reigns here, the same as
on Tremont street or Fifth avenue.
l82
Lake Wmnifiscogcc in October.
Ellacoya in her deerskin robes and
porcupine embroideries would be
laughed at ; so would the milk-maid
of Addison's and Johnson's day, in
her dress of linsey-woolsey, and roses
in her hair.
Again seated upon the deck of the
" Mount Washington," we glide down
the narrow inlet around which Centre
Harbor is built, and follow the shad-
ows, while
" Slow up the slopes of Ossipee
They chase the lessening light."
Again I lean over the railing of the
stern, and follow with dreamy gaze
the serpentine track of the vessel as
it winds among the islands in its
course. As of yore, I turn my eager
eyes to catch a glimpse of some tall
mountain summit, as now here, now
and there a gleam of pale gold to
mark the place of some solitary elm
or birch. Scarcely less brilliant are
the hills around, that like Titanic
Dolly Yardens loom up in all the
splendor of autumn's red and gold,
coquettishly bright and winsome when
the sun's rays fall upon them, or
looking frowningly beneath his mo-
mentary beclouding.
And now the shadows begin slowly
to fall. Old Gunstock, directly op-
posite, towards the setting sun, first
dons its sombre mantle, and turns a
coldly jealous face to the lower hills
that with their gorgeously tinted
slopes lie rosy and radiant beneath
the kisses of the recreant sun-god,
who finds time to bestow a smile even
upon Mount Belknap, whose rugged
there, somebody exclaims, "There is peak reddens and frowns by turns,
Chocorua!" "Red Hill!" "Ossipee
Mountains !" "Copple-Crown !" It had
been a dull gray day ; but before we
reached our destination the sun sudden-
ly peeped out from- the sodden clouds,
and looked at us with a cordial smile,
as if to atone for all his previous
coldness. Before us stretches the
lake, gorgeous from reflection, glitter-
ing beneath the lingering sunshine
like burnished steel, while in far
away cove and inlet it deepens into
sluidowy indistinctness, and farther
still stretches a dull gra}', monoto-
nous calm. Huge shadows loiter over
the two Belknap Hills, and northward
distant Chocorua lifts his bleached
liead, so tenderly touched now with
gray and gold, like some great re-
cumbent monster keeping guard over
his watery domain. On the nearest
shore is a wide stretch of lawn and
tillage land, fringed with scarlet su-
machs and flaming maples, with here
as if pleased in spite of itself with
attentions that it knows only too well
will be as quickly withdrawn. Even
the little islands, with their gay col-
ored adornings, catch an unusual
brightness from the fast descending
rays, and watch their own reflections
in the placid mirror of the lake with
something like satisfaction. Lower
and lower he sinks — our faithless
Apollo ; closer and more closely he
draws the cloudy curtains of his char-
iot about his retreating face. Cool
and chill the mountain air strikes up-
on us, with a hint of frostiness in it
that all of October's glorious pageant-
ry cannot make us quite oblivious of.
And now grand old Copple-Crown in
the south-east grows sternly dark,
and Tumble Down Dick lifts its one
sided height gloomily ; the lower
peaks are enshrouded in twilight;
the lingering glow upon the lake fades
into a dull leaden sray ; the
night
Lake Wiiinipiseogce in October'.
183
has come, and gradually takes posses-
sion at once of forest, lake, and shore.
But there is Wolfeborough, crown-
ing two beautiful slopes of laud ris-
ing from a bay of the lake. Lights
are gleaming from the Pavilion and
the Glendon House, shining far out
upon the grounds, and inviting the
wayfarer to a hospitable reception.
The steamer lands at a little wharf,
and we walk up to the Glendon House,
a large and handsome establishment,
fitted up with all the modern improve-
ments, and capable of accommodating
two hundred guests. It is surround-
ed by extensive and neatly kept
grounds, and is so placed as to give
a water prospect from every side. A
double veranda surrounds the house,
affording delightful shade and fine
promenades at all times. But one of
its chief attractions is the peculiar
construction of its roof, which being
flat gives an unsurpassed opportunity
to examine the surrounding country,
and is a place of great resort at the
sunrise and the sunset of a summer
day.
One of the great charms of Wolfe-
borough is the moonlight, which is
nowhere so beautiful as here. Let
not the reader declare that it is "all
moonshine," when we assure him that
there is a vast difference in moon-
light. At Wolfeborough^ it is not
thin, bluish, and chilly, nor is it
deathly white, as if haunted by spec-
tres, nor has it a weird hue and in-
fluence, suggesting fairies and frolic-
some fays ; rather is its color a deli-
cate luminous cream, and its beams
do not rain in silver streams, but
gush, as it were, from all the veins of
the air. There is an Oriental rich-
ness about it, an Italian sorcery, that
I have felt nowhere else. What a
rare joy a sail on the lake is then !
It is full of exhilaration. Everybody
goes into raptures over it. From
seven to ten o'clock, and often later,
the bay is literally alive with craft.
From all sides of the water, starting
out from all conceivable docks and
landings, all kinds of vessels, from
the tiniest shell to a fair sized wher-
ry — all sorts of crews, from a single
boy or girl to a crowd of ladies and
gentlemen, all laughing and chatter-
ing, voices ringing out in the soft air
and harmonizing sweetly with the
mellifluous moonlight, the long line
of lights on either side of the shore
flashing on each merry party as they
pass, while over all there is an influ-
ence, a covering and beauty, like the
ancient pillars of cloud and flame, —
all these combine with the boating to
make a moonlight sail on the lake at
Wolfeborough an experience to re-
member until one's latest year.
I am not writing an intentional eu-
logy of the lake; — still one cannot well,
visit Winnipiseogee without becoming
influenced in a certain way that would
render him oblivious of the charms of
other places. For the time he is fas-
cinated ; the Cleopatra sorceries of the
lake enchain him in a willing bondage.
And this fascination does not cease
with departure. Every year's ex-
perience and widening knowledge of
this resort only increases its charms
in the eyes of old dwellers, and adds
to the throng of new comers. Board-
ing and hotel accommodations have
to be extended year by year. All
classes of people seek its shores, and
the worshipper of nature, the seeker
for pleasure, the soul needing rest,
and the disciple of "Old Izaak," will
184
Lake Winnifiseogee in October.
find here what he seeks. The invig-
orating lake breeze braces up the in-
valid, adds bloom to the cheek of
beauty, and is creative of an appetite
that Vitellius Caesar or Heliogabalus
might have envied.
At the southern point of the lake
is Alton Bay, a quiet hamlet shut in
by hills. Originally christened Mer-
ry Meeting Bay, it was the earliest
settled place on the lake, dating back
to the year 1710. Its earlier history
is tragic with Indian surprisals and
massacres. But the memory of those
far away events scarcely troubles one
now as he gazes upon the little village
slumbering so quietly in its sheltered
nook. As you approach it from the
lake it looks like a miniature Venice
amid its lagoons. The boat winds its
way among the numerous islands, giv-
ing the traveller occasional glimpses
of roofs and spires among the trees,
until, all at once, the bay opens, and
there is the village nestling on the
shore, watched over by the guardian
hills that surround it. There are not a
few delightful mountain drives in the
neighborhood, and magnificent views
of the lake are obtained from the sum-
mits of the surrounding hills. The
Bay View House is the largest hotel,
and is pleasantly located, and affords
at reasonable price excellent accom-
modations to its guests.
Another delightful point on the lake
is Lake Village, in the township of
Gilford. Long Bay, an arm of the
great lake, stretches down like a kuife-
])lade. The village reposing on its
shore is lovely as a poet's dream.
Happy is he who has yet to take a
first view of Winnipiseogee from the
ridge above the village. Leaving the
busy little mart, with its mills, facto-
ries, and machine shops, we wander
up through the fields to a pleasant
terrace. With the town at our feet,
we look down upon the Beautiful
Water. It is a scene for an artist.
Woods and fields and charming isl-
ands, the mirrory lake, and the
mountains beyond, all disclose a land-
scape of remarkable beauty. We
have gazed upon it often, and each
time we discover new beauty in the
scene.
But our pilgrim feet cannot linger
forever in this " Land of Beulah."
Half regretfully we take our last boat-
ride on the lake. It is the last of Oc-
tober, but the day is warm, the sun-
shine golden. What charms of color
enshrine the shores ! and below, how
the waters change at every passing
breeze ! Now it is blue, now gray,
purple, azure. The lake is like an
opal. Its chameleon hues are won-
derful. Yonder is a shore where the
tall and stately pine borders the wa-
ter line with living green. Under-
neath there is a mound of heaped
earth. Can you not fancy the soul of
some grim old sagamore lying under
those waving boughs? Now we pass
an island in the lake. What an en-
trancing shore ! Surely Circe might
reign there, or Calypso hold there
a Ulysses in enchantment. Fairy
Ariels and Peablossoms come to one's
mind, and all the splendid richness
of "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
" The velvet grass seems carpet meet
For the light fairies' lively feet;
Yon tufted knoll with daisies strewn
Might make proud Oberon a throne,
While, hidden in the thicket nigh,
Puck should brood o'er his frolic sly ;
And where profuse the wood-vetch clings
Round ash and elm in verdant rings,
Its pale and azure pencilled flower
Should canopy Titania's bower."
Gove's Insurrection .
185
Artists are said to find better stud-
ies on Lake George. There nia}' be
perhai)s more of manageable pict-
uresqueness iu the combinations of its
coves and cliffs ; but for larger pro-
portioned landscapes, to be enjoyed
by the eye, if not so easily handled
b}' the brush and pencil, "VVinni-
piseogee is immeasurably superior.
Its artistic and infinite variety never
wearies, while at Lake George the
visitor forever feels the need of wider
reaches in the mountain views, and
richer combinations of the forest wild-
ness, and longs for a glimpse now
and then furnished by the New Hamp-
shire lake. Winnipiseogee satisfies,
its genial influences are peculiarly
elevating, and all its various charms
combine to prove that "A thing of
beauty is a joy forever."
EDWARD GOVE'S INSURRECTION" OF 1683.
AMERICAN REBELLION.
BY J. C. SANBORN.
-THE SECOND
Before the Great Revolution of
1776 there were three smaller rebel-
lious in the United States, or Provin-
ces as they were called. One of these
was Bacon's Rebellion in Virginia,
and another was that which took place
on the coronation of AVilliam III as
King of England. These two are well
known, but between the former and the
latter a small rebellion broke out in
New Hampshire, which is not much
known, but which should be more
familiar, as it was the forerunner of
the downfall of Andros in 1689.
New Hampshire, which was first
settled in 1623, had been for half a
century united with Massachusetts ;
but when Charles II came to the throne
of England in 1660 he wished to pun-
ish the Massachusetts Puritans, and
with this end in view made New
Hampshire a i-oyal province, to have
a governor of its own. As this sepa-
ration from Massachusetts was against
the wishes of the New Hampshire
settlers, the king, hoping to conciliate
them, named a council in his new prov-
ince and called an assembly. This
assembly, meeting in 1680, enacted a
code of laws borrowed from those of
Massachusetts. When the king saw
these laws he rejected them as "fanat-
ical and absurd," and, persuaded by
Robert Mason, who hoped thus to fur-
ther his own interests, he appointed
Cranfield, a London official, who be-
came deeply indebted to Mason, the
first royal governor. Robert Mason,
whose claims to the proprietorship of
New Hampshire indirectly furnished
one of the causes of the rebellion
which is the subject of this article,
was a grandson of Capt. John Mason,
to whom, many years before, in con-
nection with a baronet named Sir
Ferdinando Gorges, the Plymouth
Council had given an enormous grant,
covering almost the whole of what is
now Maine and New Hampshire.
Afterward Mason and Gorges divid-
ed, and the former took as his share
the whole of modern New Hampshire.
It was to give Robert Mason a con-
trol over the settlers that Cranfield
i86
Gove's Insiirrcction.
was so tyrannical, and enacted so
many severe laws. Now the assem-
bly refused their consent to these laws ;
and when Crantield found that they
would not obey him in all that he did,
he dissolved the assembly at once.
This step secured him the ill-will of
all the men of New Hampshire, and
soon the feeling of resentment rose so
high as to result in a rebellion. In
1683, in a report made to the Board of
Trade by Randolph, one of the king's
officers in New Hampshire, there is a
very good account of this rebellion,
and from this report I will quote a
few passages :
A short time after, one Edward
Gove, who served for the town of
Hampton, a leading man and a great
stickler for the late proceedings of
the assembly, made it his business to
stir the people up to rebellion by giv-
ing out that the governor, as vice-ad-
miral, acted by the commission of his
royal highness who was a Papist, and
would bring popery in amongst them ;
that the governor was a pretended
governor, and his commission was
signed in Scotland. He endeavored,
with a great deal of pains, to make a
party, and solicited many of the con-
siderable persons in each town to join
with him to recover their liberties in-
fringed by his majesty's placing a
governor over them ; further adding
that his sword was drawn, and lie
would not lay it down till he knew who
should liold the government. He dis-
coursed at Portsmouth to Mr. Marty n,
treasurer, and soon after to Capt.
Hall of Dover, which they discovered
to the governor, who immediately dis-
patched messengers with warrants to
the constable of Exeter and Hampton
to arrest Gove ; and fearing he misjht
get a party too strong for the civil
power (as indeed it proved, for Jus-
tice Weare and a mai'shal were re-
pulsed), the governor forthwith order-
ed the militia of the whole province
to be in arms ; and understanding by
the marshal that Gove could not be
apprehended at Hampton by himself
and a constable, but had gone to
his party at Exeter (from whence he
suddenly returned with twelve men
mounted and armed with swords, pis-
tols, and guns, a trumpet sounding, and
Gove with his sword drawn riding at
the head of them), was taking horse
and with a part of the troop intended
to take Gove and his company, but
the governor was prevented by a mes-
senger from Hampton, who bi'ought
word that they were met withal, and
taken by the militia of the town, and
were secured with a guard ; the trum-
. peter forcing his way escaped, after
whom a hue and cry was sent to
all parts, but as yet he is not taken.
This rising was, unexpectedly to the
party, made on the 21st day of Jarn-
uary, 1683. It is generally believed
that many considerable persons, at
whose houses Gove either sent or call-
ed to come out and stand for their
liberties, would have joined with him
had he not discovered his designs or
appeared in arms at that day. For
upon the 30th of January being ap-
pointed by the governor a day of pub-
lic humiliation, they designed to cut
off the governor, Mr. Mason, and some
others whom they affected not. The
governor sent a strong party of horse
to guard the prisoners, then in irons,
from Hampton to Portsmouth. They
were brought before the governor and
council and examined, when Gove be-
haved very insolently.
When arrested, Gove and his com-
panions were put under the charge of
Capt. Walter Barefoote at New Cas-
tle, so the record quaintly says, "In
regarde that ye prison was out of re-
paire." While in custody here, Gove
wrote a letter to the justices who were
about to try him, and in it he describes
his condition. He says, — "My tears
are in my eyes, I can hardly see . . .
If ever New England had need of a
Gove's Insurrection.
187
Solomon or David it is now . . .
Wee have a hard prison, a good keeper,
a hard Captain, irons an inch over,
five foot seven inches long, two men
locked together, yet I had, I thank
God for it, a very goode night's rest."
On the loth of February, 1683, a spe-
cial court was called to tr}' Gove and
his comrades, and "after long con-
sideration the jury found Gove guilty
of high treason, . . . and all the rest
in arms, . . , the governor ordered
the court to suspend its judgement
(on the latter) till His Majesty's
pleasure should be known therein ;
most of them being young men and
unacquainted with the law." The
judge, who, it is said, shed tears
while sentencing Gove, pronounced
the dreadful sentence that he should be
hung, drawn, and quartered, — that be-
ing the punishment for the offence.
This judge, Richard Waldron, was a
very important man in the New Hamp-
shire colony. He was promoted from
the rank of captain to that of colonel,
and in his capacity as judge sentenced
three Quaker women to be whipped
through Dover, Hampton, and Salis-
bury, and soon to Dedhara. This order
was obeyed only in Dover and Hamp-
ton, however, for in Salisbury, Walter
Barefoote, the deputy governor, took
them out of the constable's hands pre-
tending to deliver them up to the offi-
cers of Newbury, but really protect-
ing them and sending them out of
Waldron's reach. Whittier has cele-
brated this event in his Poem of "■ How
the women went from Dover," as
follows :
'•'Sliow me the order, and meanwhile strike
A blow at your peril I" «aid Justice I'ike.
Of all the rulers the lands possessed,
Wisest and boldest was he, and best.
" He read the warrant : '• These convey
From our precincts; at every town on the way
Give each ten lashes.' God judge the brute!
I tread his warrant under ray foot!
Cut loose these poor ones and let them go I
Come what will of it, all men shall know
No warrant is good, though backed by the Crown,
For whipping women in Salisbury town I"
Six years after Gove's trial, on the
27th of June, 1689, Major Waldron
was killed by the Indians, whose an-
ger he had provoked in capturing some
of their tribe and selling tiiem into-
slavery. This happened in 1676. Two
squaws asked Waldron if they might
spend the night of the 27th in his
house. No suspicion was aroused by
this request, and the Major showed
them how to unfasten the doors, in
case they wished to go out during the
night. Merandowit asked Waldron
what he would do if the Indians should
attack him, and the Major carelessly
told him that he could assemble a
hundred men by merelv raising his
finger. During the night the gates
were opened, and the Indians outside
rushed in and entered the Major's
apartment. At first he drove them
back with his sword, which he had
seized as he sprang from bed, but he
was soon stunned and overpowered.
After a supper, which the inhabitants
of the house were forced to provide,
the Indians tortured Major Waldron,
till, faint from loss of blood, he fell
forward, when one of the Indians
held his own sword beneath him, and
falling on its point he expired. It is
said that the Quakers, whom he order-
ed to be flogged, foretold his horrible
death.
But to return to Gove and his com-
panions. Most of these were pardon-
ed, and Gove himself, after being
sent over to England and confined iu
the Tower for some years, was par-
doned and sent back to Hampton.
There is on file in the State Paper
1 88
How Polly Came Home.
Office in England a petition of his
wife to pardon her husband. She
gives as his excuse that he was intoxi-
cated at the time, and hints at a streak
of insanity which ran in his family.
After his return to America he lived
but a short time, and always contend-
ed that a slow poison had been admin-
istered to him in prison. His house,
a part of it, still stands in Seabrook,
and there is growing on the premises a
pear-tree which it is said he brought
from England with him. His descend-
ants became Quakers, and some of
them still worship in the old Quaker
meeting-house in Seabrook, which was
formerly a part of Hampton ; and it is
near this old church that Gove's re-
mains lie buried.
Thus ended the first rebellion in
New England. It hastened Cran-
field's removal, but was of little per-
manent consequence compared with
that which occasioned the downfall of
Sir Edmund Andros six years after-
ward, when Cranfield, Randolph, and
many other supporters of tyi-anny went
down with Sir Edmund. Randolph,
who had been active in punishing
Gove, was himself imprisoned in Bos-
ton, and wrote many piteous letters
to King William asking to be set free.
HOW POLLY CAME HOME.
BY CLARA AUGUSTA.
Elisha and I have allers worked hard, and saved up all we could,
Not that we expected it would ever do us much good.
But there was Tom and Moses, and there was E^lizy Ann,
And she was our only darter, and she had n't much of a man !
He was kinder shiftless and lazy, and never see nothin' to do :
He was born so awfully tired he 'd never got rested through !
I said that Elizy Ann was all the darter we had :
We had another one, Polly, — but Polly she managed bad.
Jim Pearl, as worked at days' works, she captivated his eye.
And she was a silly young flirt, and he courted her all on the sly :
But as soon as Elisha found out how matters were goiu' along.
He reasoned with Polly, and told her she 'd done uncommonly wrong !
He and I talked it over, nights, after we'd got into bed.
And the boys wa'n't round, nor nobody else, to hear what was said.
Elisha, he'd get so excited he'd kick off the bed-clothes like sin.
Which is awful provokin', I think, after once a body 's tucked in :
And he swore by some oaths that are mild and fit for a deacon to use,
He 'd disown Pollv forever, if she did n't come round to his views.
Elisha is sot as the hills : no man could lie more so than he :
But Polly 's a chip of the old block, and a good deal more sotter is she ;
And when her father explained she must give the mitten to Jim,
She kept on hemmin' a ruffle and hummin' a Methodist hymn ;
And 1 thouglit to myself she was taking it dreadful quiet and mild,
But Polly 's a person that never allows herself to get riled.
Hoiv Polly Came Home. 189
Next day was quarterly ineetiii' ; the deacon and I allers go ;
The preachiu' is giner ly powerful to raise up the hearts of the low.
"We stayed all night with the brethren, and when we got home she had fled !
Yes, Polly had left us for Jim, and the deacon wished she was dead.
And he told us never to mention the name of Polly to him,
And likewise we'd better avoid any conversation on Jim.
After this, Elislia growed old in a way it grieved me to see :
He looked like a man of seventy, and he hardly was sixty-three.
He left off contrivin' and plannin', and willed his possessions away ;
And P^lizy Ann and Josiah, they came to the farm to stay.
The bank stock was given to Moses, and Tom had the timber lot.
And Elizy Ann was co see after us for the things we had got.
Now, I do n't deny but what it's a cross to navigate straight
With folks that is getting in years, and keep up an even-paced gait.
You need a good deal of religion, and darter Elizy and I,
We could n't seem to agree, and no more could Elisha and Si :
They put us off into a bed-room where there wa'n 't no sign of the sun.
And we never could be quite sartin when day ended or when it begun.
Elizy Ann is a scholar, and she says that coffee and tea
Ain't fit Un- the human stomach, and sugar's the worst of the three.
Now it's rather a toughish job for a woman as old as I
To be satisfied with cold water, and swaller her flap-jack dry ;
But I had signed off my rights with a thoughtless stroke of the pen,
And if I complained the leastest, Elizy was mad as a hen.
One dav when thino-s was crosswavs, and words run consider'ble high,
Josiah said he was tired of waitin' for us to die ;
And Elizy Ann she slat round, and kicked at the dog which was lame,
As if she considered that animal was somehow or ruther to blame ;
And Elisha sot still and quiet, and seemed most remarkably meek,
And seeing his mood, I braced myself, and managed not to speak.
Next day Elisha told Si that he 'd clean entirely forgot.
In making his will and giving to Tom the whole of that timber lot.
That it wa' n 't strict justice to 'Lizy, and he 'd call the attorney in <^
And have affairs regulated exact as they 'd ought to a' been.
Josiah pricked up his ears — he's smart as a whip after money.
And when he scents out sixpence, he 's sweet as molasses and honey.
He brought the will to Elisha, and Elisha examined it through.
And I sot there a wonderin' what he was goin' to do.
He folded the dockyment careful, and slung it into the fire,
And riz up tall and straight as the Orthodox meeting-house spire ;
He strode to the door and opened it, and sez he to Elizy Ann,
" Git out of this house right brief ! you and your cussid man ! "
I felt dreadful to hear the deacon use such an unchristian word.
But then I expect his temper was pretty consider'ble stirred ;
190
How Polly Came Home.
Elizy she fell to cryiug, and Josiah he blustered and swore,
But^he deacon had s;ot his back up, and he turned 'em all out of door.
That uiglit savs Elisha to me, " I should like to see Polly at home.
And I'd send" her an invitation if I only thought she would come."
I did n't say nothin' just then, but I writ to Polly next day.
And one Saturday, just about sunset — 1 remember the month was May-
She come in and laid her baby, as nat'ral as ever could be,
And he a kickin' and crowin', right down on his grandfather's knee.
The deacon sot still for a minnit, I expect he was kinder upsot,
But the way he kissed Polly's baby was a sight I never forgot.
Then he cleared his throat with a he'em ! and says he, " It ain't any good
A pretendin' that Betsy and I have done as purfessors should :
We've been unrighteous and worldly, but Polly '11 forgive us, maybe."
And Polly she hugged him and kissed him, as tender as ever you see ;
And says he, — " There 's work on the farm for Jim and myself to do,
So we '11 bury the hatchet deep, and begin our lives anew."
Ever since, we've made one family, and we have n't got a son
That's begun to do as well by us as our Polly's Jim has done !
And the baby — little blessing ! — he 's as sweet as sweet can be.
And who shall tend and spoil him most is on what we disagree.
And the moral of my story is, — Old people^ do iit he led
To give aivay anythivg you've got till after you are dead.
TiCKNOu's Paper Series is a happy
idea of the publishers, and will be
very acceptable to all readers during
the summer that is now so close upon
us. It includes a number of the most
famous and successful of the novels
of the past five years, — books like
Guenn., The Story of a Country Toivn,
A Nameless Nnhlema)! , The Story
of Margaret Kent, and otiiers of equal
value and merit ; and with these come
brilliant new works, like De Mont-
auban's The Cruise of a Wornan-
Hater. and the vivid and fascinating
Venetian novel, The House of the
M^lsician, by Virginia W. Townsend,
whose Neptune's Vase won such great
praise a few years ago. Such a group
of novels as these titles indicate will
be as refreshing as a sea-broeze in
summer. They are handsome and
shapely volumes, substantially bound
in decorated heavy - paper covers.
Tile series for 18S7 will include thir-
teen volumes, appearing one each
week during May, June, and July.
The retail price is fifty cents each
volume, a remarkably low price for
sucii handsomely printed and made-up
copvricjlit books.
The initial number of the series is
the famous and widely a|)proved novel,
" The Story of Margaret Kent." The
wonderful success of this book is
shown by the fact that within less
than two years it has run through
ten editions. It is not merely a love-
story, but also a series of character
stu(lies woi'thy of Thackeray or Balzac,
thrilling with real life and deep feel-
ing, and depicting with marvellous
skill tlie trials of a young, beautiful,
and bewitching woman.
THE
RANITE AGNTHLY.
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
T)evoted to Literature, biography, Histoiy, and State Progr&ss.
Vol. X.
JUNE, i88^
No. 6.
HON. JOHN" C. LINEHAN.
A hundred years after the Puritans
and Pilgrims made a settlement on
the coast of New England, there came
to this country a uiu'titude of emi-
grants, mostly from the north of
Ireland, who soon became absorbed
into the ranks of the first settlers, and
became the very best of citizens.
In the contest for independence they
rendered the most efficient services
to the colonies, as they had pre-
viously done in protecting the fron-
tier from the inroads of the Indians.
After another century, our doors hav-
ing been opened wide for the recep-
tion of people from every country,
there came to these shores a tide of
emigration from central and southern
Ireland, which seemed at one time as
if it would depopulate the Emerald
Isle. In numbers like the countless
hosts of the Goths and Vandals who
overran the Roman empire, but pa-
cific in their intentions, they sought in
America homes for themselves and
their children, where, under the flag
and protection of the young republic,
they could enjoy that liberty which
had been denied them in their old
home, and secure those advantages
which thrift and industry offered in
the new world.
When the country of their adoption
192
Hon. yo/ni C Linehan,
was in danger from organized rebel-
lion, none liastened to its defence with
more zeal and courage than these
uewly mad"e citizens. In the bap-
tism of blood that followed, the
heterogeneous mass was welded into
one great people.
Hon. John C. Linehan, member
of the governor's council from Dis-
trict 2, a whole-souled, open-hearted,
and always genial citizen, is a repre-
sentative of the Irish American ele-
ment in New Hampshire, whom his
fellow-citizens delight to honor.
He was born in Macroom, county of
Cork, Ireland, in February, 1840, and
is the second in a family of eight, five
sons and three daughters, the children
of John and Margaret Linehan. Tiie
head of the family, who was a finely
educated man, came to this country
in October, 1847, and his family came
two years later. John C, like many
other boys of his time In New Eng-
land, was compelled to leave school
at an early age. When 12 years old
he was a doffer in the cotton mill of
H. H. and J. S. Brown at Fisherville
(now Penacook), N. H., and doing
his best to keep up, on his side of
the spinning frame. From 1852 to
1857 he remained in the mill, retiring
as a section hand in the weaving de-
partment at the age of 17. From
here he went to work for the Rolfe
Brothers, sash, door, blind, and box
manufacturers, and for three years,
from 1858 to 18G1, was foreman of
the box department. For some years
before the war he was a member of
the Fisherville band, and when the
Third Regiment of volunteers was or-
ganized, with seven of his comrades,
he enlisted as a member of the Third
band, in which he served up to the
time of his discharge. The members
of the baud swore by their regiment,
and the regiment swore b}' the band.
One was confident that the regiment
was the best in the Department of
the South, and the others knew theirs
was the best band ; so this fraternal
feeling was kept up, and is as warm
to-day as it was twenty-five years ago.
From 1864 to 1866 he worked for the
firm of Caldwell, Amsden & Co., cabi-
net manufacturers. In April of the
latter year he went into the grocery
business with Henry F. Brov^n, the co-
partnership lasting three years, when
the interest of the latter ceased, and
from April, 1869, to the present date
he has been alone — twenty-one con-
secutive years in the same business,
as a retail grocer ; which is saying a
good deal for the most unstable, for-
tune-wrecking business in the country.
A Republican politically, he has
served his ward (One, of Concord) in
almost every capacity, having been
ward clerk, on the board of selectmen,
and in both branches of the city gov-
ernment — council and board of alder-
men. In October, 1886, he received
an almost unanimous vote as candidate
for councillor, but seven votes being
cast against him on the first ballot.
Although failing of an election at the
polls, there being no choice by the
people, he led his candidate for gov-
ernor in 39 out of the 43 towns in the
councillor district. The vote for Saw-
yer was 7,962, and for Linehan 8,230,
or 268 ahead. His competitor, Fred-
erick Taylor of Nelson, had 7,775, and
the Prohibition ticket 661. Linehan's
plurality was 455. Considering that
there was no special effort made, it
was a handsome run.
From 1872 to 1882 he was an ac-
IIo)i. ^foJin C. Liuchan.
193
tive worker in the total abstinence
cause, being president of one of the
first Catholic temperance societies,
and for a time one of the most flour-
ishing in the state, at Fisherville. In
company with the lamented Maj. T.
B. Crowley of Nashua and Maj. P.
A. Devine of Manchester, he helped
to organize a state union, and was
one of the first delegates to represent
it in the national convention in New
York in 1874. In 1875 he was one of
the charter members and the first com-
mander of W. I. Brown Post, No. 31,
G. A. R., of Penacook ; was elected
a delegate to the national encamp-
ment in 1878, appointed assistant
department inspector in 1879, served
on the staff of Department Com-
mander George Bowers in 1879 and
'80, elected a member of the national
council administration in 1880 and
'81, chief mustering officer in 1882,
elected department commander in
1883, unamiously reelected in 1884,
appointed a member of the national
pension committee of the G. A. R. in
1884, reappointed in 1885-6-7, elected
president of New Hampshire Veteran
Association in 1885 and reelected in
1886. While department commander
he instituted twenty new posts, begin-
ning at West Stewartstown and end-
ing at Salisbury, from No. 64 to 84,
reorganized eight posts, and increased
the membership of the order from
3,000 to nearly 4,500. He was elected
one of the board of directors of the
Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Asso-
ciation, and placed on the Executive
Committee in 1884. He was selected
by the New Hampshire Veteran Asso-
ciation to procure from the legislature
appropriations for the Gettysburg
monuments, and for head-quarters at
The Weirs, and was appointed by Gov.
Carrier agent foi- the expenditure of
the same.
From 1865 to 1879 he was a member
of what has often been called the best
musical organization New Hampshire
has had within its borders, " Brown's
Band," wq.ll known all over New
England, and led by the well known
manufacturer of the Concord Axle
works, D. Arthur Brown, formerh'
leader of the Third Regiment band.
This baud numbered among its mem-
bers T. W. Henry of the Cadet band of
Boston, and Jean Missud of the Cadet
band of Salem. Of this baud he was
the secretary and treasurer during its
existence. In 1876 it accompanied
the Governor and Amoskeag Vet-
erans to Philadelphia, and the year
following to Bennington.
Since the organization of the State
Veteran Association he has had charge
of the musical section of the annual
reunion, except while he was presi-
dent, and at the expiration of his
term he was again elected to fill the
place of musical director. He was
appointed by Governor Hale one of
the board of trustees of the Industrial
school at Manchester, and takes an
active interest in its welfare.
Though but nine years of age when
he left Ireland, his memory of it is
clear and his love for it strono;. Natu-
rall}^ his sympathies lead him towards
any movement for its welfare. In
1865-66 he was the head of the Fenian
Brotherhood in New Hampshire, and
organized a company of militia com-
posed almost wholly of veteran sol-
diers, and named in honor of Governor
Smyth the " Smyth Guards," for the
manly position taken by the governor
on the imprisonment of Captain Hea-
194
New Hampshire in 1784..
ley in Ireland, and which resulted in
the release of the captain.
Although deprived of educational
facilities in his early youth, he has
been all his life and is at present a
diligent scholar and an inveterate
reader. He was the first Catholic
elected to any position in the city of
Concord, and, if elected by the legisla-
ture, will be the first Catholic to hold
the postiou of councillor in this state.
One of his brothers. Rev. T. P.
Linehan, is a respected resident of
Broad and liberal in his views, Mr.
Linehan has been an active, earnest
worker in the Republican ranks, and
identified at home and abroad in any
movement for the benefit of hi&
fellow-men of all races and creeds.
A laborer all his life, he has known
what it was to work the year round
from dawn to twilight, and any just
movement for the benefit of the toil-
ers will have his voice, and where he
can use it, his vote.
Mr. Linehan is specially interested
Portland, Me., being rector of the in early Irish history, and on that
cathedral there.
He married, in January, 1864,
Mary E. Pendergast, and his family
consists of one daughter and three
sons. His daughter took the veil in
St. Elizabeth's convent at Portland,
Me., in September, 188.5, in the order
of the Sisters of Mercy. His oldest
son, after two years' apprenticeship
subject is high authority, from his re-
search and indefatigable labors.
He is a graceful writer, and articles
from his pen have been reproduced
not only throughout this country but
in Great Britain and her widespread
colonies. He is still in the prime of
manhood, and his friends look for-
ward confidentlv to his further rec-
in the dry goods business in Minne- ognition by the party of his choice,
apolis, is now in Boston with Brown, In closing this sketch we would.
Durrell & Co. ; one works with his acknowledge our indebtedness to our
father in the stoi'e ; and the other, a contemporary, the Manchester Bud-
lad of nine years, is at school. get, for much of our information.
NEW HAMPSHIRE IN 1784.
The treaty of peace between Great
Britain and the United States of
America was signed in Paris, Sep-
tember 3, 1783. The constitution,
containing bill of rights and form of
government agreed upon by the dele-
gates of the people of the state of
New Hampshire, in a convention held
at Concord on the first Tuesday of
June, 1783, had been submitted to
and approved by the people of the
state, and had been established bv
their delegates in convention, October
31, 1783. It was to go into effect in
June, 1784.
On the second day of June, 1784,
the newly elected legislature of the
state (perhaps as distinguished a body
of men as ever gathered together
within the limits of the state) assem-
bled at Concord, and proceeded to
organize. According to the consti-
tution, the new senate was to be com-
posed of twelve members, five of
New Hani-pshirc in lyS^.
195
whom carae from Rockingham count}',
two each from Strafiford, Hillsborough,
and Cheshire, and one from Grafton ;
for the state, having the same limits
as at present, was then divided into
the above named counties.
The senate was made up as fol-
lows :
Rockingham county — Hon. John
McClary, Esq., councillor. Joseph
Oilman, Esq., Hon. Woodbury Lang-
don, Esq.,* Timotliy Walker, P^sq.,*
John Langdon, Esq.*
Strafford county — John Wentworth,
Esq., Ebenezer Smith, Esq.
Hillsborough county--Francis Blood,
Esq., councillor, Matthew Thornton,
Esq.*
Cheshire county — Simeon Olcott,
Esq.. Hon. Enoch Hale, Esq.*
Grafton county — Moses Dow, Esq.
The senate chose two of the coun-
cillors from their number ; the house
chose three.
The following gentlemen were re-
turned as representatives from the
several towns- and places set against
each of their names, agreeably to the
new constitution :
Portsmouth — Geo. Atkinson, Esq.,
George Gains, Esq., John Pickering,
Esq.
Exeter — Mr. Jedidiah Jewett.
Londonderry — Col. Daniel Runnels,
Mr. Archibald McMurphy.
Chester — Capt. John Underbill.
Newington — Ephraim Pickering,
Esq.
Greenland, Newcastle, and Rye —
Samuel Jenness, Esq.
North Hampton — Moses Leavitt,
Esq.
Hampton — Christopher Toppan,
Esq.
*Elected to till a vacancy.
Hampton Falls and Seabrook —
Capt. Jonathan Leavitt.
Stratham — Mark Wiggin, Esq.
Kensington — Mr. Moses Shaw.
South Hampton and East Kings-
ton — Josejih Merrill, Esq.
Kingston — Capt. John Eastman.
Brentwood — Capt. Levi Morrill.
Epping — Capt. Seth Fogg.
Newmarket — Col. James Hill.
Nottingham — Col. Thomas Bart-
lett.
Deerfield — Jeremiah Eastman, Esq.
Northfield, Epsom and AUens-
towu —
Chichester and Pittsfield — Major
John Cram.
Canterbury and Northfield — Capt.
Jeremiah Clough.
Loudon — Major Nathan Bachelder.
Concord — Timothy Walker, Esq.
Pembroke — Samuel Daniels, Esq.
Candia — Col. Nathaniel Emerson.
Raymond and Poplin — Mr. John
Scribner.
Hawke and Sandown — Reuben
Clough, Esq.
Hampstead, Atkinson and Plais-
tow — Nathaniel Peabody, Esq., coun-
cillor.
Newton —
Salem — Capt. John Allen.
Windham^James Betton, Esq.
Pelham — Mr. Jacob Butler.
Dover — Capt. James Calfe.
Durham — Mr. Ebenezer Smith.
Somersworth — Maj. Jonathan Went-
worth.
Rochester — James Knowles, Esq.
Barrington — Capt. Joshua Foss.
Sanbornton — Mr. John Sanborn.
Gilraanton — Gen. Joseph Badger,
councillor.
Lee — Dr. James Brackett.
Madburv —
196
JS'ew Hampshire in 178^.
Meredith aucl New Hampton —
Sandwich and Tamworth — Daniel
Beede, Esq.
Moultonborough, Tuftonborough,
Wolfeborongh, and Ossipee Gore —
Col, Bradbury Richardson.
Barnstead, New Durham, and New
Durham Gore — Col. Thomas Tash.
Wakefield, Middletou, and Effing-
ham — Capt. David Copp.
Conway, Eaton, Burton, and Loca-
tion — Col. David Page.
Nottingham-West — Capt. Samuel
Marsh.
Litchfield and Derryfield —
Dunstable — Capt. Benjamin French.
Merrimack and Bedford — Mr. James
Martin.
Goffstown— Robert McGregore, Esq.
Hollis — Capt. Daniel Emerson.
Amherst — Mr. Robert Means.
Raby and Mason — Benjamin Mann,
Esq.
New Ipswich — Mr, Ephraim Adams.
Duxbury and Mile Slip —
Wilton — Capt. Philip Putnam.
Lyndeborough — Capt. Levi Spaul-
ding.
Temple and Peterborough Slip —
Mr. Francis Cragin.
Peterborough and Society Land —
Mr. Matthew Wallace.
Hancock, Antrim, and Deering —
John Duncan, Esq.
Heuniker and Hillsborough — Lieut.
Robert Wallace.
New Bradford —
New Boston —
Francestown —
Weave — Mr. Jonathan Dow.
Hopkinton — Mr. Aaron Greeley.
Duubartou and Bow — Mr. David
Storey.
Salisbury — Capt. Matthew Pettin-
gill.
Boscawen —
Fishersfield, Perrystown, and War-
ner — Capt. Francis Davis.
New London, Andover, and Gore —
Charlestown — Elijah Grout, Esq.
Alstead — Maj. Amos Shephard.
Keene — Mr. Benjamin Hall.
Swanzey — Maj. Elisha Whitcomb.
Richmond — Maj. Oliver Capron.
Jaffrey — Mr. William Smiley.
Winchester — Mr. Simon Willard.
Westmoreland — Mr. Joseph Wil-
bourn.
Chesterfield — Col. Samuel King.
Rindge —
Walpole —
Claremont — Capt. Benjamin Sum-
ner.
Cornish and Grantham — Moses
m
Chase, Esq., councillor.
Newport and Croydon — Mr. Stephen
Powers.
Wendell and Unity —
Acworth, Lempster, and Marlow —
Lieut. David Grout.
Surrv and Gilsum —
Stoddard and Washington — Capt.
Jacob Copeland.
Dublin and Packersfield — Mr. Reu-
ben Morss.
Marlborough and Fitz-William —
Mr. Samuel Kendell.
Protectworth and Hinsdale —
Holderness, Carapton, Thornton,
and JNIorristown — Moses Baker, Esq.
Plymouth, Rumney, and Went-
worth — Col. Joseph Senter.
New Chester, Alexandria, and
Cockermouth (Groton) — Carr Huse,
Esq.
Enfield, Canaan, Cardigan, Dor-
chester, and Grafton — William Ayers,
Esq.
Hanover — Mr. Russell Freeman.
Lebanon — Elisha Payne, Esq.
JSfciu Ilaiiips/i/rc in 178^.
197
Lyme and Orford — Maj. Jonuthan
Child.
Haverhill, Piermont, Warren, and
Coventry — Col. Timothy Bedel.
Bath, Lyman, Gnnthwait, Apthorp,
Lancaster, Northumberland, Strat-
ford, Dartmouth, Colburu, and Cock-
burn — Capt. John Young. ^
Hon. George Atkinson, Esq., was
chosen speaker of the house ; Hon.
Woodbury Laugdon, Esq., was chosen
as senior senator.
John McClary, Francis Blood, Jo-
seph Badger, Nathaniel Peabody, and
Moses Chase were elected council-
lors.
Abiel Foster, Jonathan Blanchard,
John Langdon, and Moses Dow were
appointed delegates to represent New
Hampshire in Congress for a year,
commencing the following November,
but all except Mr. Foster refused the
honor, and subsequently Samuel Liv-
ermore, Pierse Long, and Elisha
Paine were associated with Mr. Fos-
ter, but two serving at once.
Samuel Livermore, Josiah Bartlett,
and John Sullivan were appointed a
committee to revise the laws of the
state, and to draw such new laws as
they might deem necessary.
Ebenezer Thompson was elected
seci'etary for the state ; John Taylor
Oilman was elected treasurer.
The pay of the members was six
shillings a day ; the secretar^^ of the
state and the clerk of the house re-
ceived nine shillings.
The first session at Concord lasted
about two weeks, when the legisla-
ture adjourned to meet in October in
Portsmouth. It was not until the
second meeting that a yea and nay
vote was recorded. That was before
the parties had formed.
A town with one hundred and fifty
ratable male polls was entitled to one
representative ; with four hundred
and fifty polls, to two ; with seven
hundred and fifty polls, to three.
Every member of the house was
seized of a free-hold estate in his own
right of at least £100 ; a senator had
to own £200 in a free-hold estate to
be eligible.
His Excellency, Meshech Weare,
who had served the state throughout
the struggle for independence as its
chief executive otficer, was found to
have received a large majority of the
votes cast, and was duly declared
elected the first president of the new
commonwealth. He was not, how-
ever, sworn into office for several
days after the legislature met.
On the first day of the session the
members of both branches of "The
General Court" attended services at
the Old North church, and listened to
a sermon by Rev. Samuel McClintock,
of Greenland. So well pleased were
they that they voted him £15 in the
afternoon to recompense him. The
sermon is on file among the archives
of the state library, and is worthy of
perusal after a century has passed b}'.
A few extracts may be of interest to
the present generation.
" How becoming is it that we should
render unto him in a public manner
the most devout ascriptions of praise
for the great things he has done for
us in delivering us from the cruel
hand of oppression, and the impend-
ing miseries of abject servitude,
crowning our arduous struggle in de-
fense of the rights of human nature
with triumphant success, in acknowl-
edgement of our independence and
sovereignty, and in giving us the
198
New Hampshire in 178^.
singular advantage of forming a con-
stitution of government for ourselves
and our posterity. If we should
neglect to render due praise to him
on such a great occasion, the heathen
would rise up in judgment and con-
demn us for our im[)iety and ingrati-
tude."
He speaks of "the present glorious
revolution in this laud," and con-
tinues: "Hardly any people were
ever less prepared to enter the list
with such a great and powerful na-
tion. War was not our object or
wish ; on the contrary we deprecated
it as a dreadful calamity, and con-
tinued to hope, even against hope,
that the gentle methods of petitioning
and remonstrating might obtain a re-
dress of grievances.
"The war on our part was not a
war of ambition, but a justifiable
self-defence against the claims of
an arbitrary power, which was at-
tempting to wrest from us the privi-
leges we had all along enjoyed, and to
subject us to a state of abject servi-
tude.
"They were men of war from their
youth. They had regular troops,
used to service, who had signalized
their valor on the Plains of Minden
and on the Heights of Abraham, com-
manded by able and experienced
generals, amply furnished with all the
terrible apparatus of death and de-
struction, and aided by mercenary
troops who had been bred to arms
and were versed in all the stratagems
of war ; — add to this they had a navy
tiuit ruled the ocean, and regular re-
sources to supply their demands — on
the other hand we were inexperienced
in the art of war, and had neither
disciplined troops, nor magazines of
provision and amunition, nor so much
as one ship of war to oppose to their
formidable fleets, nor any regular re-
sources, not even so much as the
certain prospect of any foreign aid ; —
besides all the civil governments were
dissolved and the people reduced back
to a state of nature, and in danger
of falling into anarchy and confu-
sion.
"That people so widely separated
from one another by their situation,
manners, customs, and forms of gov-
ernment, should all at once be willing
to sacrifice their present interests to
the public good and unite like a band
of brothers to make the cause of one
state, and even of one town, a com-
mo,n cause : and that they should
continue firm and united under the
greatest discouragements and the
most trying reverses of fortune — that
an army of freemen, voluntarily as-
sembled at the alarm of danger-men
who had been nurtured in the bosom
of liberty and unused to slavish re-
straints, should be willing to submit
to the severity of military government
for the safety of their country, and
patiently endure hardships that would
have the fortitude of veterans, fol-
lowing their illustrious leader in the
depths of winter, through cold and
snow, in nakedness and perils, when
every step they took was marked with
the blood that issued from their
swollen feet, and when they could
not be animated to such patience and
perseverance by any mercenary mo-
tives, was a rare spectacle, and for its
solution must be traced to a higher
source."
The whole sermon shows that the
speaker, if not the hearers, appre-
ciated the mncnitude of the struggle
JVew Uanipsh/rc in lyS^.
199
tlirougli which the colonies had suc-
cessfully passed, and realized the
responsibility which devolved upon
them in establishing- the new state on
a sure foundation.
Money at this time was very scarce,
that is, gold and silver. The Conti-
nental currency had depreciated so
that fortv pounds represented one,
and was very diflicult to dispose of
at any figure, being thought nearly
worthless. The new legislature voted
to raise £25,000, but were aware of
the difficulty of raising any. They
provided for the pensions of disabled
soldiers, for a light-house at New-
castle, and for the pay of the officers of
the state, but made the collection pos-
sible by allowing evidences of state in-
debtedness to be received as state taxes.
At this time the state contained a
population of about 140,000 souls,
mostly employed in agricultural pur-
suits. Portsmouth was the only place
of much importance, sending three
representatives to the General Court,
but its leading men were the unpop-
ular Masonian Proprietors, and thus
its influence was curtailed. Next in
importance was the town of London-
derr3^ where already had sprung up a
few manufacturing industries. Deri-y-
field sent no representative. This
was before the days of turnpikes and
canals, and the roads were carried
over the hillipst and most rocky
routes, to save expense in maintain-
ing, and were consequently as bad as
they well could be ; but as they were
not much used except by foot travel-
lers and horsemen, it did not much
matter. Bridges were of such a char-
acter that thev were generally carried
away by the freshet every spring,
while the main dependence was placed
on ferries. The crops on the new
land on the hillside farms were abun-
dant. Large families of children
were raised, and were educated in
the rudiments at the little school-house
in every district. On every farm was
a self-sustaining community : thej'
raised their own wheat, corn, vege-
tables, maple sugar, and all the food
required ; they raised their own
wool and flax ; they tanned their own
leather ; they made their own cloth,
and made their own garments. Every
town had its minister. Then came the
miller with grist-mill and saw-mill ;
then the blacksmith ; and lastly, when
the town had gained a certain stand-
ing, a justice of the peace.
Dartmouth college was granted the
right bv the first legislature of the
state to hold a lottery, in order to
raise £3,000.
MESHECH WE ARE,
the new president of the state, was
at this time well advanced in years,
being over 70. He was a native of
New Hampshire, graduated at Har-
vard college m 1735, and earl}' de-
voted his attention to law and state-
craft. From 1745, when he was
elected a representative from Hamp-
ton Falls, he was almost continually
in the public service. He was clerk
of the house for several years, was
chosen speaker in 1752, and held the
office for some years. In 1747 he
was appointed judge Qf the superior
court, and continued in that office
until 1776, when he was chosen chief-
justice, resigning in 1782 on account
of failing health. From 1776 to 1784
he was a member of the Committee of
Safety, member of the council, and
president of the state.
200
New Hampshire in 1^84.
He was a man of original inven-
tive genius, but possessed extensive
knowledge, an accurate judgment,
a calm temper, a modest deportment,
an upright and benevolent heart, and
a habit of prudence and diligence in
performing the various duties of pub-
lic and private life. He was not a
theoretic but a practical statesman,
distinguished for his amiableness, up-
rightness, and fidelit}'. All through
the Revolution he was invested at the
same time with the highest offices,
legislative, judicial, and executive,
and continued in them by annual
elections. He was neither proud nor
haughtv. His high rank did not
change his mind, his manners, or his
mode of living. He continued to the
last the same modest, unassuming
man. From all his offices, and with
all his prudence, he added not a cent
to his property, which did not exceed
that of a good common farmer. Worn
down with services he had rendered
to the public, after a long illness, he
died calmly at his mansion in Hamp-
ton Falls, January 15, 1786, in his
73d year.
COUNCILLORS.
Hon. John McClary, of Epsom, was
a delegate to the Provincial Congress
which met in May, 1775 ; a represent-
ative from Epsom in 1776 and 1778 ;
a member of the Committee of Safety ;
councillor from 1780 to 1784 ; senator
from 1784 to 1787; president of the
senate 1785 and 1786 ; member of the
convention, 1791-'!)2. He died June
16, 1801, aged 82.
Gen. Francis Blood, of Temple,
was born March 18, 1735-'36, in Con-
cord, Mass., and settled in Temple in
1763. Was selectman several years.
town-clerk, representative all through
the Revolutionary War, a justice of
court of common pleas, and after-
wards chief-justice. He was a man
of superior mind, sagacity, and infor-
mation ; for many years the leading-
man of the town, acquired a hand-
some property, and died in 1790.
Dr. Nathaniel Peabody, of Atkin-
son, was one of the distinguished men
of his times. He was born in Tops-
field, Mass., March 1, 1741. He
was adjutant-general of the state,
1777-'78 ; member of congress,
1779-'81 ; major-general of the state
militia, 1793. He died in Exeter,
June 27, 1823, aged 82.
Gen. Joseph Badger, son of Capt
Joseph Badger, was born in Bradford,
Mass., October 23, 1746. He was a
man of great militarv ardor, and held
offices in the militia for thirty years.
He was present at the capture of
Burgoyue in 1779. He was again
councillor, 1790-'92, 1795-'96. He
died January 15, 1809, aged 62.
Hon. Moses Chase, of Cornish,
came of that family which has given
so manv distinguished names to
American history, including that of
Chief-Justice Salmon P. Chase.
SENATORS.
Hon. Joseph Gilman, of Exeter,
born May 5, 1738 ; treasurer of Rock-
ingham county in 1776; justice of
the peace in 1779; elected to senate
in 1785-'86-'87 ; member of govern-
or's council, last term. In 1788 re-
moved to Marietta, Ohio, where, two
ears later, he was appointed judge
of probate ; later U. S. judge for the
district of the North-west. He died
May 14, 1806.
Hon. Woodburv Lanodon was born
New Hampshire in 178^.
201
in Portsmouth in 1739 ; was a mer-
chant ; a member of the old congress,
1779-'80 ; judge of the supreme court,
1782. A firm patriot, devoted to the
cause of his country. His house was
burned in 1781, and he built the
Rockingliam House (old). He died
January 13, 1805, aged 66.
Hon. Timothy Walker, of Concord,
only son of Rev. Timothy Walker, of
Concord, was born June 27, 1737;
graduated at Harvard college, 1756;
justice of court of common pleas from
1777 to 1809 ; chief-justice last five
3'ears ; often a delegate ; candidate
for governor in 1798. Died May 5,
1822, aged 85. He filled all the town
and state offices to which he was
elected with fidelity and honor.
Hon. John Langdou, of Portsmouth,
one of New Hampshire's most distin-
guished citizens, was born in Ports-
mouth in 1740 ; was one of the party
which seized Fort William and Mary
in 1774; delegate to Continental
Congress in 1775 and 1776; speaker
N. H. house of representatives in 1776
and 1777 ; judge of court of common
pleas ; delegate to congress in 1783 ;
president of New Hampshire in 1785 ;
member of first U. S. senate ; presi-
dent pro tern, of that body, served
two terms ; governor of New Hamp-
shire from 1805 to 1808 and 1810 and
1811. He was eminent for his per-
sonal dignity, his patriotism, his
capacity for offices of high honor and
trust, and for his religious reverence
and devotion. He died September
18, 1819, aged 78.
Hon. John Wentworth, of Dover,
born at Salmon Falls, July 17, 1745 ;
graduated at Harvard college in 1768 ;
was admitted to the bar, and lived in
Dover ; was moderator many years ;
representative through the war ; one of
the executive council of the state ; on
the Committee of Safety ; a delegate
to the Continental congress in 1778.
He was an able lawyer, as a man be-
nevolent, of a good-natured address,
and a statesman of superior abilities.
He died January 10, 1787.
Ebenezer Smith, born in Exeter in
1734 ; was a Proprietor of Gilmanton,
but settled in Meredith in 1768, and
was a " father of the town" for many
years. He was judge of probate ;
lieutenant-colonel of 10th regiment
militia ; president of the senate two
years. He died August 27, 1807,
aged 73.
Hon. Matthew Thornton, born in
Ireland in 1714; came as a lad to
America ; studied medicine ; was sur-
geon on Louisbourg expedition ; mem-
ber of congress from 1776 to 1778;
chief-justice of Hillsborough count}' ;
judge of the supreme court ; member
of the council in 1785. Soon after-
wards he moved to Massachusetts,
and died in Newburyport, June 24,
1804, in his 91st year.
Simeon Olcott, of Charlestown, was
born in Bolton, Conn., October 1,
1735 ; graduated at Yale college in
1761, and settled some three years
later in Charlestown as a lawyer ; he
was judge of probate in 1773 ; chief-
justice of court of common pleas in
1784; associate justice of superior
court in 1790 ; chief-justice from 1795
to 1801 ; IT. S. Senator to 1805. He
died February 22, 1815, aged 79.
Enoch Hale, of Rindge, came from
Hampstead in 1760; was justice of
the peace in 1768. He was born in
Rowley, Mass., November 28, 1733 ;
was a leading citizen of the town till
he removed to Walpole in 1784, He
202
New Hampshire in 1784.
died in Grafton, Vt.. April 9, 1813,
aged 79.
Moses Dow, of Haverhill, was the
first lawyer of Grafton county, and
for sometime was register of probate.
HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES.
Hon. George Atkinson, Esq., who
was born, lived, and died in Ports-
mouth, was a man of considerable
ability, strict integrity, and of an
irreproachable character. He was
four times appointed a delegate to
the Continental congress, but each
time declined the office. He was also
appointed a member of the Committee
of Safety, and declined. He was ap-
pointed a special justice of the supe-
rior court. In 1785 he was one of
four candidates for president of the
state, and received the largest pop-
ular vote, but failed of an election
before the legislature. He died in
February, 1788.
George Gains was one of the Com-
mittee of Safety for the state in
1777.
Hon. John Pickering, Esq., was a
native of Newington, born in 1738 ;
graduated at Harvard college in 1761 ;
studied law ; was attorney-general in
178(i; repeatedly a member of the
legislature; president of the U. S.
senate in 1789; and governor of the
state, ex-officio, when Gov. John
Langdon was elected to the U. S.
senate. In 1790 he was appointed
chief-justice of the superior court,
and held the office five years. He
was afterwards district judge of the
United States, and served till 1804.
He received the degree of LL. D.
from Harvard college and Dartmouth
college. He died April 11, 1805,
aijed C7.
Col. Daniel Runnels, of London-
derry, served as captain in Col. Nich-
ols's regiment at Bennington, and as
captain in Col. Peabody's regiment in
Rhode Island in 1778. He was an
able and distinguished citizen.
Thomas Bartlett, Esq., of Notting-
ham, was among the leading patriots
of Rockingham county. He was
captain of a company in 1775 at
Winter Hill ; lieutenant-colonel in
Col. Gilman's regiment in Rhode
Island in 1778 ; a member of Com-
mittee of Safety in 1778 ; colonel of a
regiment at West Point in 1780;
brigadier-general of N. H. militia in
1792 ; representative in 1775 ; speaker
of the house of representatives ; judge
of the court of common pleas. He
died June 30, 1807, aged 59.
Moses Leavitt, Esq., of North
Hampton, actively participated in the
War of the Revolution. He was ap-
pointed captain in the Continental
service in 1776, and was employed on
coast defence during the war. He
was representative in 1782 and 1783.
Hon. ChristopherToppan, of Hamp-
ton, was a useful and distinguished
citizen, son of Dr. P^dmund Toppan,
and grandson of Rev. Christopher
Toppan, of Newbury, Mass. His
mother was a dauohter of Col. Joshua
Wingate. He was often a representa-
tive, and was councillor in 1786, 1790,
and 1794. He died in February,
1819, aged 84.
Daniel Emerson, Esq., of HoUis,
was coroner for Hillsborough county
in 1776 ; captain in Rhode Island ex-
pedition in 1779 ; representative in
1782; councillor in 1787; and died
October 4, 1821, aged 75.
Lieut. Robert Wallace, of Henni-
ker, .was a native of Londonderry;
JSfew Hainf shire in lyS^.
203
judge of court of common pleas for
Hillsborough county from 1803 to
1813; councillor from 1788 to 1789,
and from 171)0 to 1803. He died in
January, 1815, aged 66.
John Duncan, of Antrim, a native
of Londonderry, settled in Antrim in
1773. He was a prominent citizen,
serving as town-clerk, representative,
selectman, and senator. He died in
March, 1823, aged 89.
John Underhill, of Chester, bora
June 20, 1745; was thrice elected to
the General Court. He died in Plain-
field, in 1816.
John Cram, Esq., of Pittsfield, was
first town-clerk of Chichester when
the town was organized in 1773, and
was reelected every year until after
1780. He also served the town as
selectman several terms ; was deputy
in the Provincial Congress at Exeter
in 1775 ; a member of the convention
of 1779 ; justice of the peace ; and was
one of the chief men in organizing
the town of Pittsfield out of old Chi-
chester in 1781. He was a native of
Hampton, and came to the locality in
1768. He took an active interest in
the new settlement which he started
above the falls, and for nearly forty
years was in public office, and did
most of the town business. He was
fiftv vears of age when the war broke
out, but was chosen captain of the
company immediately formed, which
included every man in the town.
During his forty years' service he
made no charge to the town save for
expenses. He rose to the rank of
colonel of militia.
Capt. Jeremiah Clough, of Canter-
bury, was son of Capt. Jeremiah
Clough, the leader in the first settle-
ment of the town : was a veteran of
Bunker Hill, and was an active and
influential citizen.
Major Nathan Bachelder, of Lou-
don, was one of the most active and
influential citizens of that town from
its organization in 1773 (the first town-
meeting being held at his house) until
the close of the century. He was
born October 25, 1734; was justice
of the peace, and selectman, repre-
sentative, and moderator many years.
He was known as the Squire.
Samuel Daniell, Esq., of Pembroke,
was a leading citizen of that town ;
moderator as early as 1776; one of
the Committee of Safety for the town ;
was chairman of the board of select-
men, and held other offices in the
town, including that of town-clerk.
He was an assessor as late as 1799,
and during the Revolution had the
title of Lieutenant.
Col. Nathaniel Emerson, of Candia,
son of Samuel Emerson, Esq., one of
the first settlers of the town, was
born May 2, 1742, and was "called
to public stations perhaps more than
any other individual who ever lived
in Candia." He was a militia officer
from 1763 to 1775 ; lieutenant-colonel
of 17th regiment of New Hampshire
militia in 1776 ; lieutenant-colonel in
the Continental army in 1778 ; was at
battle of Bennington with Stark, and
was colonel of the 17th regiment
some ten years after the war. He was
a "member of the first Constitutional
convention, and served the town al-
most continuously as representative
until 1798. He was a justice of the
peace for twenty-five years. For
many years he was a land surveyor.
He died April 30, 1824, aged 83.
Jeremiah Eastman, Esq., of Deer- »
field, was born December 9, 1732, in
J04
New Hampshire in ijS^.
Kensington, and settled in Deerfield
in 1762. He was early identified witli
all the more important interests of
the town, and ever proved himself
active and efficient in advancing them.
Was selectman, 1772-'74; represent-
ative, 1775-'79 and 1781, 1783-84;
town-clerk from 1775 to 1795 ; a
practical land surveyor, and member
of the Congregational church. He
died in 1802.
James Betton, of Windham, was
born in Scotland in 1728, and settled
in Windham before 1753. He was a
farmer, surveyor, and auctioneer. He
presided in twenty town-meetings ;
was selectman, and delegate to the first
state congress ; justice of the peace
in 177G ; was sent as agent to confer
with the Continental congress, and to
bring Continental money to the state
treasury. He was a delegate in
1777-'79-'80-'81, and a representa-
tive 1782-'84-'85-'86-'89-'91 and '93.
He died March 18, 1803.
Major Jonathan Wentworth, of
Somersworth, was born in Dover,
September 8, 1741 ; was captain in
siege of Boston ; at Ticonderoga in
177G ; in Rhode Island in 1778 ; mayor
in 1783 ; delegate from 1779 to 1782 ;
colonel 2d New Hampshire regiment
in 1789. He died November 16,
1790.
Mr. John Sanborn, from Sanborn-
ton. born January 29, 1736, in Hamp-
ton, was the first permanent settler of
Sanl)ornton, in 1766. He was a vet-
eian of the old French War ; a soldier
of the Revolution, rank of sergeant ;
orderly in Capt. Jeremiah Clough's
company. He was a benevolent,
generous-hearted man, of dignity and
presence, full of dry humor. Served
as magistrate without appointment.
He was a large, bulky man, a valua-
ble citizen, and made a good living.
He died August 29, 1814.
Mr. Robert Means, of Amherst,
was born in Stevvartstown, Ireland,
August 28, 1742. Married Mary,
daughter of Rev. David McGregor,
of Londonderry, and died August
24, 1823. His daughter Mary mar-
ried Hon. Jeremiah Mason ; another
daughter married Amos Lawrence ;
another, President Appleton of Bow-
doin college. He landed in Boston
in 1766, and was a weaver by trade,
but engaged in mercantile pursuits.
He was noted for his honesty, fair
dealing, close attention to business,
and in time became one of the most
widely known and distinguished mer-
chants in the town or state. He was
representative five years ; senator
two years ; member of the council ;
county treasurer many years ; justice
of the peace ; and an officer of the
militia. His granddaughter was the
wife of Franklin Pierce.
Benjamin Mann, Esq.. of Mason,
settled in that town in 1771, coming
from Woburn, Mass. He was soon
employed in public offices in the town.
He was moderator twelve years ; town-
clerk four years ; selectman six years ;
representative four years ; and was
very active during the Revolutionary
War. He commanded a company at
the battle of Bunker Hill ; and was
the first justice of the peace in town.
He moved to Keene in 1800, and died
in Trov, N. Y.. in 1831, aged 91.
Mr. Epliraim Adams, of New Ips-
wich, was one of the leading men of
that town for many years. He was
un enterprising and useful citizen ;
deacon of the church ; noted for his
strong, original sense and quaint
New HanifsJiire in 17S4.
205
humor. He took a leading part in
the strong measures which preceded
the Revolution, and when the war
broke out he did his full duty, both
in council and in the field. No man
in tlie town did so much to procure
soldiers and other means of war.
Tories and croakers quailed under his
satire and humor. He was a man of
sound and discriminating judgment,
and was often elected selectman and
representative. He was born in Ips-
wich, Mass., and died March 26,
1799, aged 72.
Mr. Matthew AYallace, of Peter-
borough, was born in Londonderry,
June 23, 1731. He was town-clerk
and selectman. He afterwards re-
moved to Vermont, where he died.
David Storey, of Dunbartou, was a
native of Ipswich, Mass. He was
well known in the early affairs of the
town as a person of probity and i-e-
spectable abilities. He was seven-
teen times moderator ; eleven years
town-clerk ; six years selectman ; six
years representative. He died March
20, 1834, aged 88.
Capt. Francis Davis, of Warner,
originally came from Amesbury. He
was prominent in the affairs of the
town and state for many years. He
was drowned in Beaver brook, in
Derry, November 26, 1784, at the
age of 61. He was the first repre-
sentative from Warner, both to the
Provincial congress at Exeter as well
as under the constitution.
Elijah Grout, Esq., of Charlestown ;
born October 29, 1732; came from
Lunenburg before 17G6. He was se-
lectman six times between 1769 and
1794 ; representative five times be-
tween 1775 and 1795. He was very
active and widely known throughout
the Revolution. He was one of the
Committee of Safety of the town ;
commissary for Gen. Stark ; justice
of the peace many years. He was a
brave and good man. He was intel-
ligent and far-seeing, and had all the
qualities of a sterling man.
Mr. William Smiley, of Jaffrey,
was born in Ireland, in 1727, and was
an early settler. He was first town-
clerk ; deacon in the church ; and
held successively all the town offices.
He was a prominent and influential
man. His son David graduated at
Harvard college ; Robinson, at Dart-
mouth. He left Jaft'rey in 1810, and
died in Springfield, Vt., March 4,
1813, aged 86.
Mr. Samuel King, of Chesterfield,
was a physician. He is said to have
died before 1800. He left a family.
Mr. Stephen Powers, of Croydon,
was an early settler of that place, and
was distinguished for his giant frame,
great physical strength, and vigorous
intellect.
Col. Timothy Bedel, of Bath, was
prominent all through the Revolution,
holding important commands on the
northern frontier. (See Vol. Ill,
page 513.)
Moses Baker, Esq., of Campton,
was the great-grandfather of Hon.
Henry W. Blair, on his mother's
side.
2o6
Hon. William E. Chandler.
HON. WILLIAM E. CHANDLER.
The successful candidate in tlie race
for the United States seuatorship in
New Hampshire was Hon. William
Eaton Chandler, of Concord. He was
elected June 15, for the term of twen-
ty mouths. In him New Hampshire will
have another strong senator. He will
enter the senate chamber with a nation-
al reputation for sagacity and wisdom
already acquired, with the experience
of his whole youth and manhood de-
voted to public affairs, with the ac-
quaintance and confidence of officials
and statesmen of every section, with
a thorough knowledge of the wants
and needs of the state of New Hamp-
shire and of the citizens of the state
of every degree, with a familiarity
with the intricate mechanism of all
the departments of the government,
with a full and discriminating un-
derstanding of law, state, national,
and international, which would grace
the bench of any court, and with
judgment almost intuitive.
As a lawyer his most marked char-
acteristic is the clearness with which
he can extract from a lengthy docu-
ment, or a mass of facts and law, the
the real inwardness and sense of the
matter. He has acomprehensive grasp
of the essentials of any subject under
consideration, a remarkable povver of
organization, and the rare gift of ac-
com|)lisliii)g results through the in-
strumentality of others. From a
mass of conflicting opinions he de-
duces practical results.
He has great independence of char-
acter. He is aggressive, fearless of
public criticism, bold in maintaining
the positions he takes in political af-
fairs, but not reckless, because his
positions are sustained by sound rea-
soning. He is, perhaps, too often
indifferent to the opinions of others
and too careless in opposing others,
incurring oftentimes needless hostil-
ity. He is thoroughly loyal to his
convictions. Having taken a stand,
he heartily supports it. If there is
blame, he assumes it. He is loyal to
his friends, he is loyal to his party,
he is loyal to his country. He wants
very good reasons to sustain a posi-
tion, but very much stronger reasons
to withdraw from its support. He is
a safe legal counsellor, and a wise
political adviser. He is a keen ana-
lyzer, getting at the essence of a sub-
ject ; and as a writer he is strong,
forcible, vigorous, concise. He leaves
nobodv in doubt as to his meaning :
it is perspicuous.
He makes many friends, and keeps
them because he is faithful to thera.
He harbors no malice, cherishes no
revengeful feelings, has a friend to-
day in his enemy of yesterday, is hon-
est, is sincere, is frank. He is care-
ful in making promises, but ardent in
keeping them. His keen intellect ap-
peals to the enthusiasm of the bright,
clear-headed, and zealous young men
of the party, who are willing to fol-
low his leadership. In the most tur-
bulent scenes he evinces the greatest
coolness, force, will-power, fertility
of resource, boldness in devising
methods for managing a political body
swayed by the wildest excitement,
and power in executing his move-
ments and in controlling a legislature.
The late Samuel J, Tilden, the
Hon. Willi am E. Chandler
207
greatest organizer of the Democratic
party since Martin Van Biiren, met
his equal if not liis superior when he
came in conflict with Mr. Chandler ;
and was routed when he felt confident
of victory.
The wise and sagacious adminis-
tration of President Arthur owed much
of its success to the presence in the
cabinet of Mr. Chandler. He was a
power in the cabinet, whose influence
was felt throughout the nation, and his
terse and crisp style of using the En-
glish languao-e can be traced in many
a public document of that period.
The late Hon. Jacob H. Ela wrote
of Mr. Chandler, — "In his personal
habits Mr. Chandler is above reproach,
pure in speech as in action, with a
mind quick to perceive, prompt to ex-
ecute, and comprehensive in its scope.
He is a man with convictions, and the
courage to express and maintain them.
He has never sought advancement by
flattery or by pandering to prejudice.
Those who know him best have the
most faith in his integrity. The best
evidence of it is the fact that in twen-
ty-five years of aggressive political
life, while occupying positions of
temptation, and criticising freely the
action of men who forgot their moral
obligations, or were shirking their of-
ficial duties to the detriment of the
public good, no one of them has been
able to connect him with personal dis-
honesty, corrupt practice in official
life, or political trieachery or double-
dealing. His methods are correct,
positive, systematic, exact, and logi-
cal. The positions he has held have
all come to him in recognition of his
abilitv and earnest efforts in servins;
the cause he espouses."
Hon. Henry Robinson, of Concord,
with the enthusiasm of a friend, per-
haps too partial, thus writes in the
Granite Monthly of Mr. Chandler :
"He is a man in whom we should
all take pride, and of whom we should
speak as becomes his real worth to
his native state, where he is not with-
out honor. He is a man of wonder-
ful readiness of mind, of remarkable
ability, and, above all else, of un-
doubted integrit}^ His political op-
ponents will tell you that. He says
in the fewest words possible what he
has to say, and he says what he
means, and he means what he says :
you may rely upon it. His word is
to him a bond. This is one sreat
reason why those who know him best
love him best. This is one great
reason why he is so trusted as a lead-
er in his country, so influential a citi-
zen in his own state, and courted,
and quoted, and counted upon ever}'-
where where sound principle is at stake.
Integrity is a crown-jewel. Honesty
is the highest and noblest element of
the human character, — honesty of
purpose and action, purity of thought
and mind, square dealing with one's
fellow-men, a scrupulous uprightness
in all the thousand-aud-one petty
details of a busy life, and a strict
and constant adherence to truth and
rectitude, whether in public or pri-
vate. But in him honesty is set off
bv. and has the advantaoe of, an in-
tellect that rises at times almost to
the level of genius ; for, as a preco-
cious lad at school, as an astute lawyer
at the bar, or as a commanding states-
man in the clustered head of the pres-
ent national administration, "William
E. Chandler has developed and dis-
played an intuitive keenness of dis-
cernment, a remarkable clearness of
208
Hon. Williani E. Chandler.
judgment, a conciseness of statement,
and an almost supernatural aptitude
for leadership, that have at once
pressed him into the front ranks of
those with whom he has been asso-
ciated.
"With unflinching integrity and
surpassing ability Mr. Chandler has
combined the very best practical sense,
and a thorough knowledge of human
nature in all its different phases.
His circle of acquaintances is very
extensive ; he has friends in every
clime, and knows more men person-
ally, probably, than any other man
in America.
"Mr. Chandler has made mistakes.
Who has not? But they did not
crush him, nor subdue his enthusiasm.
He rose triumphant above them, and
profited by their experience. He has
faults. Who has not? But he wears
them all upon his sleeve. His pri-
vate chai-acter is unassailable and
above reproach. There is no shade
of suspicion upon the sterling quali-
ties of his high manhood, and the de-
tractors of his public career have
been few, and quickly discredited,
even without the pretence of a de-
nial.
"He is a contentious man, — conten-
tious for what he believes to be right.
If you have him with you, he is a
host in himself ; but if he is arrayed
against your cause, he is sure to be
the central figure of the opposition,
and you nuist beware of his bold,
rapid advances. Such is the vehe-
mence of his impulsive nature and
the ardor of his temperament that he
is a partisan to any cause that wins
his sympathy ; but no man is quicker
to bury the hatchet, and to forgive
and forget when the contest is over.
He is a splendid fighter, but is su-
preme at reconciliation.
" His characteristic frankness is a
charm that contributes more than a
little to his personal popularity. He
has a directness of purpose and a
firmness "of execution that does not
mislead you as to his objects. He is
not politic, he never strove to bask
in the sunshine of popular favor, he
is not easily swayed by the clamor of
a crowd : but he has kept steadily on
in the straight path of his own con-
victions of duty. More than once he
has seemed to stand in his own light,
and more than once the people have
returned to his leadership, after wan-
dering; from what he had defined to
be the right course. He is no mere
place-hunter. Whenever he has held
offices, it was the offices that sought
the man. He never was enamored
of sounding titles and official posi-
tions, and has held only few, and
solicited none. As a public man
only, his wide-reaching influence has
been felt, and his present elevation
was attained by force of sheer ability
and by acknowledged integrity, rath-
er than by the regular course of pro-
motion, round by round, up the ladder
of political eminence."
We quote the following from Jp-
pleton's Ci/dopcedia of American i't-
ography :
"Chandler, William Eaton, cabinet
minister, born in Concord, N. H.,
28 Dec, 1835. He studied law in Con-
cord, and at the Harvard Law School,
where he was graduated in 1855.
For several years after his admission
to the bar in 1856 he practised in
Concord, and in 1859 was appointed
reporter of the New Hampshire su-
preme court, and published five vol-
Hon. William E. Chandler.
209
limes of reports. P'roin the time of
his coming of age Mr. Cliandler was
actively connected with the Republi-
can party, serving first as secretary,
and afterward as chairman of the
state committee. In 1862 he was
elected to the New Hampshire house
of representatives, of which he was
speaker for two successive terms, in
1863-'64. In November, 1864, he
was employed by the uav^' depart-
ment as special counsel to prosecute
the Philadelphia nav^'^-yard frauds,
and on 9 March, 1865, was appointed
first solicitor and judge-advocate-
general of that department. On 17
June, 1865, he became first assistant
secretary of the treasury. On 30
Nov., 1867, he resigned this place and
resumed law practice. During the next
thirteen years, although occupying
no official position except that of
member of the constitutional conven-
tion of New Hampshire in 1876, he
continued to take an active part in
politics. He was a delegate from
his state to the Republican national
convention in 1868, and was secretary
of the national committee from that
time until 1876. In that year he ad-
vocated the claims of the Hayes
electors in Florida before the can-
vassing board of the state, and later
was one of the counsel to prepare
the case submitted by the Republican
side to the electoral commission. Mr.
Chandler afterward became an es-
pecially outspoken opponent of the
Southern policy of the Haj^es admin-
istration. In 1880 he was a delegate
to the Republican national conven-
tion, and served as a member of the
committee on credentials, in which
place he was active in securing the
report in favor of district representa-
tion, which was adopted by the con-
vention. During the subsequent
campaign he was a member of the
national committee. On 23 March,
1881, he was nominated for U. S.
solicitor-general, but the senate re-
fused to confirm, the vote being near-
ly upon party lines. In that year he
was again a member of the New
Hampshire legislature. On 7 April,
1882, he was appointed secretary of
the navy. Among the important
measures carried out by him were
the simplification and reduction of
the unwieldy navy-yard establish-
ment; the limitation of the number
of annual appointments to the actual
wants of the naval service ; the dis-
continuance of the extravagant policy
of repairing worthless vessels ; and
the beginning of a modern navy in
the construction of the four new
cruisers recommended by the advisory
board. The organization and suc-
cessful voyage of the Greely relief
expedition in 1884 were largely due
to his personal efforts. Mr. Chandler
was a strenuous advocate of uniting
with the navy the other nautical
branches of the federal administra-
tion, including the light-house estab-
lishment, the coast survey, and the
revenue marine, upon the principle,
first distinctly set forth by him, that
' the officers and seamen of the navy
should be employed to perform all
the work of the national government
upon or in direct connection with the
ocean.'"
In the sketch of the life of Presi-
dent Arthur, contained in the same
volume of the Cyclopoedia, the work
of the navy department for the above
period is stated as follows :
" A new naval policy was adopted,
2IO
Hon. William E. Chandler
prescribing a reduction in the number
of officers, tlie elimination of druulv-
ards, great strictness and impartiality'
in discipline, the discontinuance of
extensive repairs of old wooden ships,
the diminution of uav^^-yard expen-
ses, and the beginning of the con-
struction of a new navy of modern
steel ships and guns according to the
l^lans of a skilful naval advisory
board. The first of such vessels, the
cruisers 'Chicago,' 'Boston,' and
'Atlanta,' and a steel despatch-boat
'Dolphin.' with their armaments,
were designed in this country and
built in American workshops. The
gun foundry board referred to above
was originated, and its reports were
printed with that of the depart-
ment for 1884. A special message
of 26 March, 1884, urged continued
progress in the reconstruction of the
navy, the granting of authority for
at least three additional steel cruisers
and four gun-boats, and the finishing
of the four double-turreted monitors.
Two cruisers and two gun-boats were
authorized by the act of 3 March,
1885.
"An Arctic expedition, consist-
ing of the steam whalers ' Thetis '
and ' Bear,' together with the ship
'Alert,' given by the British admi-
ralty, was fitted out and desjiatched
under the command of Commander
Winfield Scott Schley for the relief
of Lieut. A. W. Greely, of the U. S.
army, who with his party had been
engaged since 1881 in scientific ex-
ploration at Lady Franklin bay, in
Grinnell Land ; and that ofHcer and
a few other survivors were rescued at
Cape Sabine, 22 June, 1884. On
recommendation of the president, an
act of congress was passed directing
the return of the 'Alert' to the Eng-
lish government."
It will be interesting to those who
wish to know more of Mr. Chandler's
advent into politics, to read the fol-
lowing from the pen of Hon. Jacob
H. Ela :
"In June, 1859, he was appointed
by Gov. Ichabod Goodwin law re-
porter of the New Hampshire supreme
court, and published five volumes of
the reports. He entered the service
of the Republican party with great
earnestness at its beginning, in 1856,
and gave much of his time, in the
office of the state committee, to assist
the movement during its early cam-
paigns, becoming secretary first, and
afterwards chairman in 1864 and
1865. The election of 1863 took
place during the darkest period of
the war, following the battle of Fred-
ericksburg, when gloom and almost
despair overshadowed every town in
the state. It was evident to all that
a draft was impending, and it seemed
as though the abilitv of the towns
and the state had been exhausted,
and no more money could be raised
or volunteers be found to enlist. All
those opposed to the war were united
and active in the Democratic party,
and were aided by those Republicans
who were alarmed by the burden of
the debt, and by those who would
compromise the safety of the Union
sooner than expose themselves to be
drafted to save .it. It was the most
important political campaign ever
conducted in the state, and brought
the executive ability of Mr. Chandler
prominently into view, and led to his
future a(ivancement. * * *
"President Lincoln watched this
campaign more closely, probably,
Hon. William E. Chandler
211
than any other outside his own state.
It was the opening election of the year
following a depressing defeat, and
he felt that to lose it at such a criti-
cal time would be as disastrous in its
effects upon the army and the country
as the loss of a great battle. It was
his interest in this election which first
brought Mr. Chandler to his atten-
tion, and tliere is no doubt that he
noted when, in the New Hampshire
Republican state convention, in 1864-,
Mr. Chandler offered the following
resolution, which was unanimously
and by acclamation adopted :
Besolved, That Abraham Lincoln, by
the exercise, during the severest and most
dangerous crisis in the nation's history, of
unequalled sagacity and statesmanship, and
that moderation and prudence which ex-
perience has shown to be the highest wis-
dom ; by his spotless integrity of personal
character, above reproach and above sus-
picion ; and by his slowly formed yet un-
alterable determination that the triumph of
the constitution and the Union over seces-
sion and rebellion shall be the final triumph
of liberty throughout the nation, — has re-
ceived and merited the abiding confidence
of the people to an extent never awarded
any other public man since Washington ;
that the best interests of the country de-
mand that the complete destruction of the
Rebellion and the restoration of peace,
prosperity, and the Union, should be
achieved under his administration of the
government ; and that we therefore declare
Abraham Lincoln to be the people's choice
for reelection to the presidency in 1864.
"The adoption of the resolution,
and the conduct of the canvass in the
spring of 1864, on the basis of Mr.
Lincoln's renomination, resulted in a
very large Republican majority ; and
Mr. Chandler, who had been a mem-
ber of the legislature of 1862, and, at
the age of twenty-seven, had been
elected speaker of the house of
representatives in 1863, was again
chosen speaker; and in August, 1864,
presided over tlie legislature in which
occurred the eventful conflict and
riotous disturbances over the veto by
Governor Gilmore of the bill allowing
soldiers in the field the right to vote.
Mr. Chandler gained his earliest rep-
utation for persistency, coolness, and
moral courage in this celebrated con-
flict, so well remembered by the Re-
publicans of the state."
Mr. Chandler has been twice mar-
ried, — in 1859, to a daughter of Gov.
Joseph A. Gilmore, and in 1874, to a
daughter of Hon. John P. Hale. He
has four sons, — Joseph Gilmore, born
1860 ; William D wight, in 1863 ; and
Lloyd Horwitz, in 1869 ; also, John
P. Hale Chandler, born March 22,
1885. Mr. Chandler's father died in
1862. His mother died in 1883, in
Concord. His two brothers, — John
K. Chandler, formerly a merchant in
Boston and the East Indies, now re-
sides on a farm in Canterbury, N. H. ;
and George H. Chandler, who was
first adjutant and afterwards major
of the Minth New Hampshire regi-
ment, was, till his death, a lawyer in
Baltimore. Mr. Chandler's father
was a Whig — a man of great intelli-
gence and firmness of character. His
mother was a woman of equally posi-
tive traits, and contributed much to
the formation of the character which
has given success to her sous.
Mr. Chandler's popularity is con-
fined to no one section of the state.
With the sturdy rank and file of the
Republican party, from Cheshire
county to the upper Coos, from the
Connecticut river to the ocean, he has
staunch and enthusiastic friends.
212
Our Boarding-House.
OUR BOARDING-HOUSE.
By Arthur E. Cotton.
Our landlady belongs to faded gen-
tility. She has that fat and forty
look, wears that selfsame alpaca
overdress, and usually has her spec-
tacles thrown back on her forehead,
all of which are characteristic of land-
ladies. She came to town from the
Cape Cod country at the close of the
late war, marrying a man with a com-
fortable competency. At length,
some six years later, after slie had
presented him with an olive branch,
Mr. Chick balanced his accounts with
this world and went to the next, but
went penniless, leaving the widow in
poverty. In this cheerless situation
she gazed piteously about her for
some opportunity that would not com-
promise her gentility, or lessen her
high standing in society, but still re-
plenish her depleted coffers.
Finally, on desperate speculation,
and knowing the proverbiality with
which jurors are wont to decide such
cases, despite evidence and reason, in
favor of the plaintiff, — or, rather, to
say true, her lawyers had told her this,
and, moreover, that a lone woman in
distress generally enlisted the sympa-
thy of juries, whether the contention
be breach money or alimony — in face
then of all this, Mrs. Chick i)urposely
slipped on the treacherous sidewalk,
sustaining simple fracture of the
ankle, then sued the city for damages.
She limped painfully about on crutches
till tiie suit terminated, then, as
would be very natural, threw them
away. With this money she embark-
ed in a less successful undertaking, a
millinery establishment, which went,
for reasons unknown to me, rapidly
to the dogs and bankruptcy.
Taking the next regular step in
the progress downwards from gentility
to the common people and nothing-
ness, she became landlady of this
boarding-house in Temple Place.
These are the principal points in Mrs.
Chick's history that I have been able
to authoritatively establish. It is true
there have been other stories told
about her ; but they lack the proper
authentication. These I have re-
garded it best to withhold. One was
to the effect that she had fallen des-
perately in love with a car conductor
in riding down town on Sunday morn-
ing. Its truthfulness I have always
doubted.
Mrs. Chick's son is a stupid, bow-
legged hind, enormously given to to-
bacco, and dreadfully repugnant to
soap. Tim looks upon work as a
deadly poison, or, at least, he never
touches it. The only tools he uses to
advantage are a knife and fork. In
using these he is unrivalled, or so the
cook complains. Still Tim has a soft
heart, and a soft head to boot. There
are three theories regarding his head.
The most general one is to the effect
that he was born with it so. The
most improbable is that the hot cli-
mate of Arizona, whither he went
with his regiment, melted it, and it
never returned to its normal condi-
tion. The most reasonable is, that
the tobacco he consumes is the occa-
sion of it.
Parenthetically I will say that Mrs.
Chick has come to grief again. She
Our Boa^'dino-Housc.
213
became immersed badly in debt,
whereat her household goods were
knocked down under the hammer. I
have heard it definitely stated that
she is lettina: lodijino-s on Lvmau
COO •-
street — last sad scene of all.
Although Mrs. Chick once kept a
carriage, once said her prayers, I can
best liken her case to a disabled ship
that has dropped out of fire, and is
lost sight of in the din and smoke of
the enoragino; vessels, and though it
keeps on tlie surface awhile it soon
goes to the bottom.
80 there are hundreds of women,
who once moved in the front lines of
society, who have gone down, like
Mrs. Chick, step by step, until lost
altogether in the noise and bustle of
this great crowded city.
One fancies he sees such shivering
on street corners in winter, unclad
for the cold ; and, as he looks into
their haggard, careworn faces, he
reads the story of their sins and suf-
ferings.
With what infinite secret satisfac-
tion we say, " Jones is growing old,"
"Smith is aging fast," "Robinson
wo n't live long." " Brown has seen
his best days," we say with a chuckle.
How we like to roll those sweet mor-
sels on our tongue.
Having disposed of Mrs. Chick, a la
mode of a novelist, a few words touch-
ing her boarders will be in order.
The occupant of the front flat is a
corpulent lady who goes to the Bap-
tists. This sainted soul divorced her
first husband because of his Orthodox
views, marrying for her second liege
one Smalls, a haberdasher on Hanover
street, a stout adherent to the immer-
sion principle. He is an asthmatic,
acquiescing little old man, in red
German whiskers, mortally in fe^r of
his wife, to whom he is habitually
deferential. This morbid fear is en-
hanced the more because he carries a
small insurance on his life. Mr.
Smalls imagines that she cares more
about that than about him.
Smalls smokes, which incessant
practice has originated a virulent can-
cer on his tongue. Dead set against
smokers the feminine side of the
house is. He protests to her that he
has renounced the dirty habit ; but she
alwavs detects by the peculiar odor
in his habiliments a painful lack of
veracity in these statements, whereat,
being much the more muscular, she
will shake him till he roars for mercy,
and unfaithfully promises for the
hundredth time to desist entirely from
the abominable practice. Take it all
ways, Mr. Smalls is a terribly wretch-
ed, abused, and henpecked lord.
The lodgers on the second floor are
a nondescript Hibernian and wife.
He comes home in his cups occasion-
ally, and beats his wife accordingly,
till the roundsman bears him away to
the station, to which institution he is
indeed no stranger. He usually re-
mains in durance vile about one week,
until his dear wife, who tugs and la-
bors — albeit she is endeavoring to
meet the payments on her teeth, which
she has bought on the instalment
plan — appears and releases him, at
which he is inexpressibly grateful,
and they go home as good and flip-
pant as two old maids over a dish of
tea.
The top tenants are a middle-aged
couple for whom my heart goes out
in sympathy. They once had a little
daughter, so angelic, so gentle, she
seemed a being straved from that bet-
214
A^'ew Hampshire Aiithors.
ter land. For a while gentle Genevieve
was contented down here ; but when
the flowers lost their sweetness and
the birds stole away, she all too soon
grew lonely in our cold world, and
wanted to 2:0 too.
Oh : liow often, when the forests
cast the leaf and the sweet summer
dies in its voluptuous beauty, the soul
mindful of the change throws off its
human appendage. She longed for
her old home beyond the stars, where
the flowers are ever blooming, where
the birds are always singing, and no
night is there. One wild, terrible
night ia autumn they watched over
her with anxious, praying hearts :
but she was "better in the morning !"
Little Genevieve loved a particular
flower, the violet, which in floral lan-
guage is expressive of hope. When
brought where it was she would point
her baby, chubby hands towards it,
smiling, speaking in a language none
could understand ; — and in summer it
waves over her s-rave.
NEW HAMPSHIRE AUTHORS.
By Arthur Everett Cotton.
The prosperity of a nation comes
from well directed industry ; its hap-
piness, from an impartial administra-
tion of good, wholesome laws ; its
preservation, from good habits and
an impregnable defence ; but its last-
ing glory comes from its letters.
Of the states of New England,
Connecticut may be said to have
produced artists ; the Bay State, men
of letters ; the Granite State, states-
men. Notwithstanding this is found
to be the case, it is with a pardonable
pride that New Hampshire points to
her past literary history. Measured
by posterity, itwill secure an enviable
position in the realm of literature.
RICHARD B. KIMBALL.
Born in Lebanon, educated at Mer-
iden and Dartmouth, from which he
graduated at the early age of seven-
teen, Richard B. Kimball ranks amono;
New Hampshire's best known literary
men ; in truth, he is about the only
novelist worth}' of the name that the
state has produced. At college he
bore the reputation of a diligent stu-
dent, a clever writer, and was exceed-
ingly popular among his fellows, of
whom he was the youngest. The
class of '34, to which he belonged,
contained many men who have achieved
prominence in the various walks of
life. Such is Prof. E. A. Lawrence,
of the Connecticut Theological Insti-
tute ; such is Judge Daniel Clark, of
Manchester ; such is the Hon. Moody
Currier, of the same city, — not to
mention others.
After graduation, young Kimball
entered upon the study of law with
his brother at Waterford, N. Y., which
declining health soon obliged him to
relinquisli. To recuperate his debil-
itated constitutioa, never very strong,
he went on a trip to Europe, whither
he has made fourteen voyages, one of
which was in company with Wash-
ington Irving. While abroad, he
JSfew Hampshire Authors.
215
made the acquaintance of many men
of note and distinction. Upon iiis
return to America he began the prac-
tice of his profession at Waterford,
having attended law lectures during
his stay in Paris. Subsequently he
settled in New York.
He now became interested in liter-
ature ; was one of the editors of the
"Knickerbocker Gallery;" started
"Putnam's Monthly;" was a con-
tributor to the "International Re-
view," to the "Atlantic," and to the
"Continental." To these Ije furnished
reviews, essays, poetry, letters of
travel, etc.
He has published nine volumes,
some of which have been translated
into the Dutch, German, and French
languages, — a distinction (I believe)
accorded to no other sou of the Granite
State. His first, and questionless his
best, novel appeared in 1850 under the
title of " St. Leger," the scene being
laid in Scotland. It abounds in beau-
tiful descriptions of Scottish scenery.
It was brought out concurrently at
London and Leipzig, and ran through
twenty-three editions in this country.
It received a favorable criticism from
Taylor Lewis and others, and an ad-
verse one from the " N. Y. Observer."
"Cuba and Cubans" came out in
1852, followed the next year Ijy " Ro-
mance of a Student's Life Abroad,"
which (like St. Leger) was published
in Holland, Germany, France, and
England, receiving a kind review from
the Revue des Deux Moncles, and the
"Loudon Atheneum." Next, "LTn-
dercurrents " was produced. This,
too, was printed in Leipzig and Am-
sterdam, having been reviewed by the
"Gids" of the latter place; and at
home by Taylor Lewis and Geo. Rip-
ley, all of whom spoke in the most
complimentary terms. "Undercur-
rents" is called Kimball's second best
woik by a large majority of his ad-
mirers. "The Prince of Kashna,"
which was laid in the West Indies ;
"Was He Successful?" "Henry
Powers;" and "To-day," which ap-
peared in 1870, — were issued in the
order named. The second was trans-
lated into Dutch, and the latter
appearing in London, Leipzig, and
Amsterdam.
His tliought is often metaphysical
and slightly religious ; his style is
characterized by limpidity and energy
rather than beauty, while his method
is eminently analytic. Personally he
is said to be a genial gentleman of
the old school. He still resides in
New York, spending the summer
months in his native town, Lebanon,
where he retains a residence. He is
on the suunv side of seventy.
T. B. ALDRICH.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich, who is
equally known as a romancist and
poet, is perhaps the greatest literary
genius that this state has yet pro-
duced. Whether vigor of thought,
beauty of imagery, or melody of
flow is to be considered, this state-
ment holds unchanged. He also is a
very industrious author, having pub-
lished fourteen volumes, besides doing
an immense amount of editorial and
other literary work. His "Face
Against the Pane" has enjoyed a
reputation hardly second to Wood-
worth's " Old Oaken Bucket," though
different in style and thought. Almost
every school-child in the land has
committed it to memory and recited
it on "exhibition dav." It is a
2l6
New Hampshire Authors.
favorite with all who love short and
tender poems. Some of his other
pieces are fully as good, but not so
celebrated.
He has published "Cloth of Gold,"
"Story of a Bad Boy," "Marjorie
Daw and Other People," "Prudence
Palfrey," "Out of His Head," "The
Queen of Sheba," "Flower and
Thorne"; — later poems, "A River-
mouth Romance," "Miss Mehetabel's
Sou," "A Midnight Fantasy," "Tom
Bailey's Adventures," "Baby Bell,"
"The Story of a Cat," translated
from the French of Emile de la Be-
dalliere ; some of which have had
a very large sale. Later he has
produced " The Stillwater Trage-
dy."
Mr. Aldrich was born in Portsmouth
in 1836 ; was employed in a New
York counting-house ; worked on the
"Home Journal," owned by N. P.
Willis ; went to Boston to edit '-Every
Saturday," with which he was con-
nected until its discontinuance. At
present he is residing in Cambridge,
Mass.
It is worthy of remark how much
this state owes to the classic city of
Portsmouth ; for, indeed, well may
she be called such. There lived her
Weutworth, Sullivan, and Pickering ;
there Haven, Buckminster, and Pea-
body preached their doctrines ; there
Mason, Webster, and Woodbury be-
gan life ; there lived and died the
poet Sewall ; and from there have
gone forth into a neighboring state
men who have contributed to the fame
and glor}' of this noble old common-
wealth. In those days her sail-
whitened harbor attested to her great
commercial importance, which now
amounts comparatively to nothing.
CELIA THAXTER.
To many the dearest name among
those who have helped to make New
Hampshire literature is CeliaThaxter,
who is a native of Portsmouth. Her
life itself is like a romance. Soured
against the world, which he thought
had ill-treated him, her father, a po-
litical adventurer, a gentleman of
some literary pretensions, who had
formerly edited the New Hampshire
Gazette^ removed, while the future
poet was yet a child, to an uninhab-
ited island nine miles from the main
laud, whither he had been appointed
keeper of the White Island light. For
him, who had broken with the world,
such a location, with its dreary sur-
roundings, was justly suited ; but
with our author the case must have
been different. There, with no society
but her parents, and such books as
they had brought with them, she
grew to woman's estate, passing a
dreamy existence. The shells of the
seashore were her only playmates ;
old ocean's melancholy roar the only
sound to greet her ears. But by-aud-
by a unique idea struck Tom Laigh-
ton. Would n't the isles make a good
summer resort? He tried it, and the
enterprise proved successful not only
to him pecuniarily, but in introducing
the island singer to public notice.
Soon after this she became the wife
of Mr. Thaxter, who (I believe) was
boarding at the house.
Mrs. Thaxter's works consist of
two volumes of poetry and a prose
description of her " sea-blown" home.
For originality of genius and beauty
of rhythm she has no superior among
the granite poets ; while she is re-
garded by competent judges among
the leading women poets of Amer-
JSfew Hanifs^hirc Authors.
217
ica. She continues to reside at the
Shoals.
JAMES T. FIKLDS.
If Kimball's books have circulated
abroad the most of any writer born
in New Hampshire, those of James
T. Fields are read more extensively'
at home. His ''Yesterdays with
Authors" is read with equal pleasure
by the learned and the unlearned. It
is found alike in the alcoves of the
great libraries of the rich and among
the half dozen books which make up
the libraries of the less favored. It
is fertile in anecdote and interesting
information about the authors whom
the writer has known in his day and
generation, told in the simple but
pleasing style of which he is a master.
Probably no man on the American
continent, dead or living, has enjoyed
the personal friendship of so many
distinguished literary characters, both
European and domestic, as Mr. Fields,
whose position as a member of the
largest publishing house in Boston,
coupled with his rare affaliility of
manner and conversational talent,
gave him peculiar opportunities for
acquiring such acquaintances.
Mr. Fields is not a voluminous
writer, he having written well rather
than much, and his reputation, which
in extent is national, has been
achieved almost wholly through his
"Yesterdays with Authors." Not-
withstanding this, he has, amidst a
press of other arduous duties, found
time to give us brief monographs
on Hawthorne, Dickens, and Barry
Cornwall, and a collection of miscel-
laneous papers under the title of
"Underbrush." He has compiled a
"Family Library of British Poetry"
in one volume.
Fields was born in Portsmouth in
1820, of parents in the humblest cir-
cumstances ; was educated in the
schools of his native city ; went to
Boston as a bookseller's clerk ; after-
wards became associated with George
Ticknor in book publishing, under
the firm of Ticknor & Fields, which,
after undergoing several alterations,
is at present represented by Hough-
ton, Mifflin & Company. This house
has been the avenue through which
Agassiz, Bryant, Emerson, Longfel-
low, and Whittier have given their
immortal works to the world. It was
also the authorized publishers of
Dickens in America. Fields is not
inaptly styled the American Dodsley.
EDNA DEAN PROCTOR.
Another author, whose name is
very familiar, has gone forth from
the Granite hills, adding to their
reputation for producing noble and
famous women. I make reference to
Edna Dean Proctor, whom malignant
tongues linked with the disgraceful
Plymouth scandal ; a charge about
which there was not a word of truth.
Of her life little is known more than
that she was born in Henniker, and
reared amid the rugged grandeur and
picturesque scenery of old Kearsai'ge,
which she has embalmed in a beauti-
fully worded poem. Her "Russian
Journey," in prose, and a volume of
poetry, are extensively read, and have
been highly spoken of by the review-
ers. Some of her poems, which are
of various orders of merit, have a
peculiar beauty and pathos which one
would fain describe. Her residence
is at Brooklyn, L. I.
Among other natives of this state
whose books, in some instances, have
2l8
The Residence of Counsellor Peter Livius.
attained a national popularity, is C.
"Carleton" Coffin, a native of Bos-
cawen, better known as the war cor-
respondent of the Boston JournaU
who has issued a book of European
travels, "Caleb Krinkle," a novel, a
volume of war reminiscences, and a
Life of Gen. Garfield ; is P. P>. Shil-
laber, better known as Mrs. Parting-,
ton, a native of Portsmouth, who is
the best humorist of which this state
can boast, and who is a poet of re-
spectable dimensions ; is S. Adam
Drake, better known as a genealogist,
a native of Pittsfield, but whose
"Nooks and Corners of the New
England Coast" has had a very gen-
eral circulation.
The former two gentlemen reside
in suburban Boston ; the latter is de-
ceased. Mrs. Partinoton's humor is
of that peculiar kind which has had
no imitators. Previous to the ap-
pearance of the Bailey-Burdette school
she was confessedly at the head
of American mirth-provokers. Her
" Partingtonian Patchwork" consists
of the following truly laughable
sketches : Blifkins the Martyr, or The
Domestic Trials of a Model Husband ;
The Modern Syntax ; Dr. Spooner's
Experiences in Search of the Delec-
table ; Partingtonian Papers ; Strip-
pings of the Warm Milk of Human
Kindness ; New and Old Things from
an Unpretending Inkstand.
Doubtless there are many more
names that would deserve to be cata-
logued in a ' list of Granite State
authors, but the scope of this article
is far from comprising a bibliography
of the state.
THE RESIDENCE OF COUNSELLOR PETER LIVIUS AT TUF-
TONBOROUGH.
By John Wentworth, LL. D.
In the first edition of Belknap's
History of New Hampshire, three
volumes, imieh is said of Counsellor
Peter Livius. See Vol. IH for the
trial of Gov. John Wentworth in Lon-
don upon cliarges preferred by him.
He was appointed counsellor in 1765.
He married Ann Pvlizabeth, daughter
of John Tufton Mason, and named
the township of which he was princi-
pal proprietor, and where he made
his home, Tuftonhorough. He left
the state in April, 1772, and did not
return. He was named in the New
Hampshire act of 1778, "To prevent
the return of certain persons to this
state wlio have left it and joined with
the enemies thereof." He was chief-
justice of Canada from 1777 to 1786,
living at Quebec. He died in Eng-
land, July 23, 1795, aged sixty-eight.
I had my curiosity excited as to
the residence of Judge Livius from
the letter of Lady Frances Went-
worth, from Wolfeborough, dated
Wentworth House, October 4, 1770,
to her relative, the wife of Hon.
Woodbury Langdou, of Portsmouth,
which was published in the Gkanite
Monthly, December, 1881. The
Wentworth House was upon the old
route from Portsmouth (forty-nine
miles distant) to Montreal, yjaNewing-
ton, Rochester, and Middletou. Hon.
The Residence of Counsellor Peto- Livhis.
219
John M. Brackett, of Wolfeborougb,
informs me that he saw the house
wlieii it took lire upon the roof and
was burned down in 1820. By the old
road it was nine miles to the residence
of Judge Livius from the Weutworth
House. Mrs. Wentworth thus writes :
''Mrs. Livius arrived here on Mon-
day afternoon, and appeared nearly
as tired as you was, but would not
own it. Sh6 staid here three nights
for fair weather, and at last went
over the pond in a high gust of wind
which made a great sea and white
caps as large as the canoe."
I thought I would like to know the
route of Mrs. Livius. In 18.51 I
visited the site of the Gov. Went-
worth house, at Wolfeborougb. Di-
rectly across the road lived a Mr.
Whitteu, who said his house was so
constructed that bis front door was
directly opposite that of Gov. Went-
worth, and one could, when the doors
were opened, look directly down
through the ball to the shore of the
pond where the governor bad his
landing-place and kept bis boats.
From this point Mrs. Livius must
have started. Where did she land?
Leaving Portsmouth in the morning,
and taking in Rev. Dr. Alonzo H.
Quint at Dover, I landed at Wolfe-
borougb by the Alton Bay steamboat,
where we took a carriage and drove
over the old Moultonborough and
Sandwich stage road, keeping as
close to the lake as possible. About
four miles from Wolfeborougb bridge,
and about nine miles from Moulton-
borough corner, and about nine miles
from the old Gov. Wentworth house,
we found Dishwater creek, or what
is better known as Lang's pond or
Livius pond. John Horn, an old
gentlemen of the Dover Horn family,
is the best known person living near
there. The pond or creek was con-
nected with the lake b}' a stream
easily navigable for small boats.
Mrs. Livius had sailed from the
Wentworth landing across Smith's
pond (now called by some Lake
Weutworth) down the river, probably
before the present bridge was built,
into Lake Winuipiseogee, thence up
the lake shore to the mouth of Dish-
water creek or river, thence up that
stream, where, a short distance from
the lake, upon an elevated spot, the
cellar of the old Livius house was
pointed out. The original bouse had
been destroyed by fire. Near the
cellar, upon the same premises, lives
Amos W. Kimball. The place showed
the good taste of Judge Livius in its
selection as a private residence, and
we found a large number of families
from the cities enjoving- it as a sum-
mer residence.
We were informed that the late
Hon. Nathaniel Wbitebouse, of Tuf-
tonborougb Corner, had published in
the Wolfeborougb paper some years
since a very interesting sketch of
Judge Livius, with a history of the
title of his land. Dr. Belknap does
not mention Judge Livius among
those who, like Gov. Wentworth, had
their estates confiscated. Perhaps
he had sold it before be left the state.
A friend applied at the newspaper
office for permission to copy the arti-
cle of Mr. Wbitebouse. He was
informed that the publishers of the
newspaper had preserved no files. I
then applied to the family friends
of Mr. Wbitebouse at Tuftonborough
for information. Mr. William O. S.
Hodgdon, now living there, whose
220
The Pinkham Notch.
wife was a granddaughter of Mr.
Wbitehouse, responded to my letter.
Mr. Whitehonse died October 27,
1866, aged one hundred years, six
months, and seventeen days. He
was living, when quite a small boy,
in the old Livius house when it was
burned. The house of Mr. Hodgdon
was afterwards burned, which con-
tained many valuable historical man-
uscripts from Mr. Whitehouse. Un-
less a copy of the Wolfeborough
paper can be found, we are not likely
to know any more of the old Judge
Livius premises.
THE PINKHAM NOTCH.
By Persis F. Chase.
The visitors to the White Mount-
ains, especially those who have been
on the east side, to the Glen, have
heard of, and very likely driven
through, the Pinkham woods, or
Notch.
This road, which extends from
.Jackson to Randolph, a distance of
twelve miles, was constructed through
the wilderness, between two ranges
of the White Mountains, by Daniel
Pinkham, a resident of Jackson. It
was commenced in 1824, and two
years were required to complete it.
Before the construction of this road
the people of Jackson were in a meas-
ure isolated from the rest of the world,
having no public road through the
town. Mr. Pinkham made a contract
with the state to build a good carriage
road through this unbroken forest
of heavy growth, along side-hills,
and across rapid streams ; for this
work he was to receive from the state
a quitclaim deed to a tract of land
one half mile wide on each side of the
road, from the Jackson line, to Gor-
ham, and all the state land in Jackson.
At that time the White Mountains
were just beginning to attract visitors.
Mr. Pinkham believed that this road
would become the great highway
for mountain travellers, and that the
land in that locality would become
o;reatly increased in value ; that the
forest would disappear before the axe
of the new settler, and the wilderness
be transformed into productive farms.
He also thought that a carriage-road
would be built from the present site
of the Glen House to the summit of
Mt. Washington.
Mr. Pinkham lived to see this part
of his prophecy fulfilled ; but it is more
than sixty years since this road was
completed, and the primeval forest
still borders it on either side, as it
did in 1824.
The Notch, or narrowest part of
the road, is just at tlie Glen Ellis falls,
where the mountains are not more
than a quarter of a mile apart. The
slope of the mountains is gradual,
and there is not any of the grandeur
of the White or Franconia Notches;
but yet it is a beautiful and pictur-
esque place, and well worth a visit.
On the fourth of July, 1826, before
a road had been made to the top of
Mt. Wasliington from this side, Mr.
To An Out-Bound Ship.
221
Piukbam and a son-in-law, Joseph
Hanson, determined to erect a flag-
pole on the summit. They started up
the mountain, selecting as they passed
through the woods a tree suitable for
their purpose. Choosing one about
thirty feet high', they cut it down,
and soon transformed it into a flag-
pole, which they carried on their
shoulders to the top of the mountain.
After nailing a small flag to the pole,
they raised it on the very summit,
making it fast at the base with rocks ;
and for the first time the '' Star Span-
gled Banner " floated from the top of
Mt. Washington, and continued to
do so until worn out by wind and
storm.
There is a story of a very sagacious
dog connected with Pinkham Notch.
This dog was owned by Joseph Han-
sou, who had a house near the place
where the Glen House now stands.
One very cold and stormy winter
day, one of Mr. Hanson's children, a
little girl, was taken very sick It was
extremely necessary to send word
down through the woods to Mr. Pink-
ham's family, and to the doctor. Mr.
Hanson could not leave home to go,
and as a last resort resolved to send
the dog, who was a remarkably in-
telligent animal. He wrote a note,
which he tied around the dog's neck,
and, taking him out into the storm.
told him he must go to Mr. Pink-
ham's and carry the letter ; that little
Lucy was very sick, and he must
bring them help. The dog seemed to
understand, and started off; but the
dreadful storm probably discouraged
him, for in about half an hour he re-
turned whining, and apparently afraid.
Mr. Hanson scolded him, and told
him ho, must go. Again he started,
and did not return until the next
morning, when he came accompanied
by Mrs. Pinkham and the doctor.
There is a highway robbery con-
nected with the history of Pinkham
woods. About four years ago, as the
stage from the Glen House to Glen
station in Bartlett was passing the
Glen Ellis falls, two men armed with
pistols emerged from the woods,
seized the horses by their heads, and
demanded the money and jewelry of
the passengers. They received what
they asked for, and disappeared in the
woods, and were never discovered.
Mr. Pinkham, who was a preacher
as well as pioneer, as it was he who
preached the sermon at the funeral of
the Willey family, did not succeed in
making the land he received for build-
ing this road profitable, and finally
sold out and went to Lancaster, a
village about twenty miles from Pink-
ham woods, where he resided until
his death.
TO AN OUT-BOUND SHIP.
I stand and watch them from the shore,
The white ships steal away
Silently down into the blue.
All at the close of day.
And from the clift's bold brow I watch,
Throuirh eves made dim with tears.
One ship closer than all the rest.
As seaward swift she veers.
222 To An Out-Bound Skip.
For yon white sail, in offing faint,
Than others fairer seems.
And proudly, amid all the fleet,
Her snowy canvas gleams.
For there, upon her wind-swept deck,
Upon her sea-worn floor,
Stands one I love to name as friend,
Fast fading from the shore.
And so, more than the others all,
I watch this faithful ship
Grow far and faint, and drop below
The ocean's curving lip.
More beauteous ships my eyes descry,
A-dancing o'er the foam ;
But this one, dearer, holds my heart, —
'T is she I watch alone.
And so I stand and watch my ship,
With eye and heart a-brim.
Till hull and sail fade into fleck,
And all the world grows dim.
And when the night draws darkly down,
I follow her, unseen,
And love to think her sailing on
Beneath a sky serene.
I follow her, with earnest thought,
Follow to every part;
Wherever my brave friend shall roam,
There shall he find my heart.
And so at home I wait, and watch
The days, like ships, go by.
And swift, with rosy canvas spread,
Sail down the evening sky.
And love to think of my good friend
Beyond the distant sea,
And wonder how his vessel fares,
And where his port may be.
I love to think, each closing day,
Those steadfast eyes of blue
Are gazing back to home and me,
All earnest, fond, and true.
I love to think how this dear heart.
Loving, tender, and brave,
Will fearless sail for life's sweet mede,
And patient breast the wave.
Until, with patience, he hath brought
To end the voyages all,
And eager, happy, home returns
Unto his cottage small.
I love to trustful give him thus
Into the dear Lord's care.
With a i'ull heart and misty eye,
And just a little prayer.
And thus I love to sit and think,
And in the dear Lord's hand
Leave all my dear ones, far or near.
Upon the sea or land.
The
RANITE neNTHLY.
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
'Devoted to Literature, 'Biography, History, and State Progress.
Vol. X.
JULY, 1887.
No. 7.
HON. DANIEL CLARK.
By Hon. Isaac W. Smith.
New Hampshire has always taken
a pardonable pride in the prosperity
of her children who go forth to other
states, and, achieving distinction in
the land of their adoption, reflect
honor upon the state of their nativity.
Their names in life, and memories
when dead, are cherished with affec-
tion on every hill-top and in every
valley, from the sea to the lakes and
the mountains. But she also looks
with parental pride and affection upon
that larger and almost innumerable
list of other sons and daughters who
have won distinction in life and a place
in history within her narrow limits.
The remark is not altogether an
infelicitous one, that the chief prod-
ucts of New Hampshire are granite,
ice, and men. Webster said (vol. 2,
Webster's Works, p. 499), "Its soil
is sterile and stubborn, but the reso-
lution to subdue it is stubborn also.
Unrelenting rocks have yielded and
do yield to unrelenting labor ; and
there are productiveness, and health,
and plenty, and comfort, over all her
hills and among all her valleys.
Manly strength, the nerved arm of
freemen, each one tilling his own
land and standing on his own soil,
enjoying what he earns and ready to
defend it, — these have made all com-
fortable and happy." The rugged
discipline enforced upon her children
in their struggles for success has de-
veloped a t3'pe of manhood and wom-
anhood mentally, morally, and phys-
ically equipped to grapple success-
fully with the duties of life. It is in
the history of him whose name stands
at the head of this article, and whose
life has been spent upon her soil and
largely in her service, that we find a
marked example of that large com-
pany of her sons, who on her rugged
hills and in her narrow, prosperous
valleys, amid the grandeur and sub-
limity of her mountains and lakes
and beneath her healthful skies, have
achieved distinction not circumscribed
merely by state lines.
224
Hon. Daniel Clark.
Daniel Clark, the third child of
Benjamin and Elizabeth (Wiggin)
Clark, was born in Stratham, Rock-
ingham county, N. H., October 24,
1809. His father was both farmer
and blacksmith. He was respected
by all who knew him for his integrity.
He was industrious, frugal, temper-
ate, kindly, and obliging. His mother
was strong-minded, devoted to her
family, and very religious. She was
not indifferent to the good opinion of
others, and was ambitious for the
success of her family, and especially
of her children. They lived upon a
beautiful farm, in the upper part of
the town, near the historic town of
Exeter. Tlie subject of this sketch
remained at home under the care and
nurture of his excellent parents until
he was thirteen years of age, going
to the common district school in sum-
mer and winter, or so much of the
time as it was kept, and assisting
about the ordinary farm-work in va-
cation. He learned at school easily,
and was more fond of his books than
of work upon the farm. At the age
of thirteen he was sent with his older
brother to the academy in Hampton,
N. H., and put upon the common
English studies. He did not then
expect to acquire a more liberal edu-
cation, although ills uiotlier iiad some
undefined notions of a higher course
of studies for her son. He continued
at Hampton at intervals, there a term
and at home a term, helping upon the
farm, some four 3'ears or more, when
he determined to go to college. He
pursued his preparatory studies at
Hampton, teaching school two win-
ters, and at twenty was prepared for
college. He entered Dartmouth col-
lege, graduating in 1834 with the first
honors of the institution. Rev. Dr.
Lord, the president of the college,
was then in the prime of his life.
Although he had presided over the
college but a few 3'ears, he had al-
ready secured the confidence of his
friends, so justly merited, as subse-
quently shown by his successful ad-
ministration of the affairs of the col-
lege for more than a third of a cen-
tury. Among Mr. Clark's classmates
were Albert Baker, who entered upon
the practice of the law at Hillsbor-
ough, N. H., and died at the age of
thirty-one, liis untimely death ex-
tinguishing hopes which his short but
brilliant career had caused his many
friends to entertain of his future use-
fulness ; Hon. Moody Currier, ll.d.,
of Manchester, ex-governor of New
Hampshire ; Rev. Newton E. Mar-
ble, u. D., Newtown, Connecticut;
Hon. Richard B. Kimball, ll. d., of
New York city, lawyer, scliolar, and
author ; Rev. Eldward A. Lawrence,
D. u., Marbleliead, Massachusetts;
and Prof. Alplionso Wood, president
of Ohio Female College. Mr. Clark
taught school winters during his col-
lege course, and while pursuing his
professional studies, eight winters in
all, including the two years l)efore
entering college, defraying, in part,
tlie expenses of his education with
tlie funds received from teaching.
Immediately after graduation he en-
tered tlie office of Hon. George Sul-
livan, tlien tlie attorney-general of
tlie state, son of Gen, Joliii Sullivan
of Revolutionary fame, at Exeter,
and commenced the study of the law,
remaining with Mr. Sullivan a year
and a lialf. He completed his legal
studies in the office of Hon. James
Bell, afterwards United States sena-
Hon. Daniel Clark.
22i
tor, at Exeter, and was admitted to
the bar of Rockingham county in
1837. In the same year he opened
an office at Epping, where he remained
some eighteen months, and in 1839
removed to Manchester, N. H. This
thriving city was then just rising
from the ground. Not a mill was
running, the canal even being unfin-
ished. The only railroad then con-
structed in the state was the Nashua
& Lowell. The telegraph and tele-
phone had not yet been invented. The
lumberino; stage-coach was the onlv
means of travel. The rates of postage
were high, and the mails slow and
few. The embryo city was hardly
more than a desolate sand-bank, where
a few hundred people had gathered,
allured by the prospect of business
about to spring up with the improve-
ment of the water-power at Amos-
keag falls. Mr. Clark was among
the first to open a law office here.
He soon acquired an active practice,
which afterwards grew to large pro-
portions, and for twenty years he was
employed upon one side or the other
of nearly every important trial in the
county, attending the courts also in
Merrimack and Rockingham counties.
He was employed in behalf of the
state in the preliminary examination
in the "Parker murder trial," being
occupied almost contiuuouslv for a
period of nearly two months. He
succeeded in procuring the extradi-
tion from Maine of the su[)posed
murderers after lengthv trial in that
state, and, after a hearing lasting
nearly a month before the police
court of Manchester, procured their
commitment to answer for the crime
of murder. Opposed to him as coun-
sel were Gen. Franklin Pierce (after-
wards president of the United States),
Gen. B. F. Butler, Hon. Josiah G.
Abbott, and the late Charles G.
Atherton, — an array of legal talent
seldom seen in this state. Mr. Clark
was employed for the defence in two
capital trials in the fall of 1854, —
Curtice's and Marshall's. Marshall
was acquitted, and in the case of
Curtice the jury disagreed. During
the period of his active practice the
bar of Hillsborough county was un-
usually strong. Among its prominent
members were Benjamin M. Farley
of HoUis ; James U. Parker of
Merrimack ; George Y. Sawyer and
Charles G. Atherton of Nashua ;
Samuel H. Ayer of Hillsborough ;
and Samuel D. Bell and George W.
Morrison of INIanchester. General
Pierce, of the Merrimack bar, also
generally attended the courts in
Hillsborough county. Of these emi-
nent lawyers, Mr. Morrison is the
sole survivor. Gen. Pierce, as a
jury lawyer, had no superior in the
state. He had a very pleasing ad-
dress, was dignified without being
reserved, and possessed a magnetic
influence over men, which rendered
him a formidable antagonist before
jurors. But in many respects Mr.
Atherton stood at the head of the
Hillsborough bar as a lawyer and
advocate. He was a man of scholar-
ly attainments, possessed a graceful
diction, had a good command of
language, knew how and when to use
sarcasm, could appeal effectively to
the passions and prejudices, was
thoroughly read in the law. and was
perfectly at home in the court-room.
With these and other able lawyers
Mr. Clark spent the most of his ac-
tive professional life, and he was rec-
226
Hon. Daniel Clark.
ognized as their peer. His practice
was as varied as it was exteusive.
"Whatever he undertook was thor-
ouo:hlv done. He was loval to the
court, faithful to his clients, cour-
teous to opposing counsel, and kind
and magnanimous to the younger
members of the profession. In his
arguments to the jury he was nev-
er wearisome. He seized upon the
weak points of the other side and
the strong points of his own, and
made them prominent to the jury.
He wasted no time on immaterial
matters. AVhile he did not possess
the personal magnetism of Pierce,
or Atherton's power of sarcasm, he
could put before a court or jury his
ease with convincing power and in its
strongest light, aud if success did
not always attend his efforts, it was
not because he failed to present all
the favorable views of his case. Le-
gal papers drafted by him were
models of accuracy and clearness.
They were also remarkable for their
brevity, all useless verbiage being
avoided. In his writs the cause of
action w^as brietly and clearly set out,
aud it was rare that he had occasion
to apply for an amendment. His
clients became his fast friends. His
charges were moderate, and no client
went away feeling tliat undue advan-
tage had been taken of his position,
or that his interests had not been
fully protected.
It is unfortunate, perhaps, for his
legal reputation that Mr. Clark was
drawn into politics. But it was his
fortune to live in times when ques-
tions of great public interest vvere
being discussed aud settled, and it was
inevitable that a person of his ability,
education, and temperament should
not entertain pronounced views on
public questions. In the early part
of his professional life there was
a difference of opinion as to the wis-
dom of encouraging the extension of
manufacturing and railroad opera-
tions in the state, and, unfortunately,
the question got into politics, aud
the two parties took opposite sides.
With the acquisition of California
came, the question of the extension or
restriction of slavery, the repeal of
the Missouri Compromise, the civil
war, the abolition of slavery, and
the reconstruction measures after the
close of the war. As a rule, the law-
yers of New Hampshire have very
generally taken an active interest in
political questions. Thus circum-
stanced, it was hardly possible for
Mr. Clark not to have some inclina-
tion towards political life. In 1842
he was elected one of the representa-
tives from the town of Manchester to
the legislature, aud was reelected in
1843, and again elected in 1846. In
1854, after the adoption of the city
charter, he was elected representative
from his ward, and reelected in 1855.
In 1849, 1850, and 1851 he was can-
didate for the state senate, but, his
party being in the minority in the
district, he failed of an election. He
acted with the AVhig party until its
dissolution, when he helped to form
the Hepubliean party, with which he
has since been identified. He was
often upon the stump during the
campaigns preceding the elections in
1854 and 1855, speaking in every
j)ortion of the state, from the sea to
the mountains. He also took part
in the election contests during the
decade which immediately followed.
Party feeling ran high, the contests
Hon. Daniel Clark.
227
often beinsj exceediiisjlv bitter. No
sj)eaker was received with greater
enthusiasm or addressed larger audi-
ences. It was largelv owing to bis
labors at the hustings that a change
in the political sentiment of the state
was brought about. In 1856 he was
a member of the National Republican
■Convention, and in November of the
same year was elected one of the
presidential electors in New Hamp-
shire, and voted for Fremont and
Dayton for president and vice-presi-
dent.
In 1855 the legislature was called
upon to elect two United States sen-
ators. For the first time in a quarter
•of a century, with a single exception,
the Democratic party was in a minor-
ity. The opposition was composed
of the Whig party, then on the point
of dissolving, the American part}',
€ommonly known as the " Know-
Nothing " party, and the Free-Soil
party. These elements, a year later,
were fused in the Republican party.
By common consent, Hon. John P.
Hale was nominated for the short
tei'm, and the contest for the long
term was between Mr. Clark and the
Hon. James Bell. In the senatorial
■caucus the latter was nominated and
subsequently elected by the legisla-
ture. The contest, although warm,
was a friendly one, so that when,
two years later, in 1857, the legisla-
ture was called to fill the vacancy in
the office occasioned by the death of
Senator Bell, in obedience to the
common wishes of their constituents
the Repul^lican members nominated
and the legislature elected Mr. Clark.
Upon the expiration of his terra he
was reelected in 1860 with little op-
position. The ten years spent by
Senator Clark in congress constituted
the most eventful period in the his-
tory of the republic. He witnessed
the rise, progress, and overthrow of
the Rebellion. This is not the time
or place to review his congressional
life. One will get a glimpse of his
position upon the slavery question on
page 268, volume 1, of Mr. Blaine's
"Twenty Years of Congress." He
served upon some of the most impor-
tant committees, and was chairman
of the Committee on Claims, and,
during portions of two sessions, pres-
ident jpro tempore of the senate in the
absence of Vice-President Hamlin.
He was a firm supporter of the vari-
ous war measures adopted for the
suppression of the Rebellion, and
had the confidence of President Lin-
coln and Secretary Stanton. He
failed of a reelection in 1866, as his
colleague, Senator Hale, had done
two years before, not from any lack
of appreciation of the invaluable ser-
vices they had rendered the countr}^
nor of the honor they had conferred
upon the state by their course in con-
gress, but because the rule of rotation
in office had become so thoroughly
ingrafted into the practice of the Re-
publican party in the state that a
departure from it was not deemed
wise, even in the persons of these
eminent statesmen.
In the summer of 1866 a vacancy
occurred in the office of district judge
of the United States district court
for the district of New Hampshire,
and Senator Clark was nominated
for the position by President John-
son, and unanimously confirmed by
the senate. He thereupon resigned
his seat in the senate and entered
upon the discharge of his judicial
228
Hon. Daniel Clai'k.
duties. The wisdom of his selection
has been justified M' his career upon
the bench. The office of district
judge does not afford such opportun-
ity for public distinction as the bench
of some other courts, the jurisdiction
of the court being principally limited
to cases arising under the constitu-
tion and laws of the United States.
New Hampshire, from its size, loca-
tion, and business relations, furnishes
only a small amount of business for
the federal courts, and not much of
that generally of public interest. In
addition to holding his own court.
Judge Clark has frequently been
called to hold the federal courts in
other states in the first circuit. He
has brought to the discharge of his
judicial duties the same learning, in-
dustry, and interest that character-
ized his labors at the bar and in the
senate. His decisions have com-
mended themselves to the profession
for their soundness and fairness.
Judge Clark, apparently indifferent to
the preservation of his opinions, has
neglected to put them in shape for
publication in the reports of the first
circuit, to the regret of his profes-
sional friends and admirers. He has
now (1887) been upon the bench
twenty-one years. He was entitled,
under the law of congress, to retire
in 187!) upon the salary for the rest
of his life. But he has preferred to
earn his salary, and "to wear out
rather than to rust out." With his
physical strength but slightly im-
paired, his mind as vigorous as in
the years of his full manhood, he, at
the age of seventy-seven, gives prom-
ise of many years of future useful-
ness.
In 1870 he was a member and
president of the convention called to
revise the constitution of New Hamp-
shire.
Judge Clark, in 1850, formed a
copartnership with his brother David
in the practice of the law, which was
dissolved, by reason of the ill health
of the latter, in 1856. In December,
1856, he entered into copartnership
with Isaac W. Smith, now upon the
supreme bench of New Hampshire,
who read law with him in 1 848-' 50.
Their firm was dissolved in December,
1861, at which time his practice of
the law may be said to have sub-
stantially ceased. So much of his
time was absorbed with congressional
duties, and other public duties be-
tween sessions growing out of dis-
turbances caused by the civil war,
that he had but little time or inclina-
tion to follow the courts 6r attend
the calls of clients in his office.
Judge Clark has been fuUv identi-
fied with the growth and history of
Manchester. He has taken great
interest in its material prosperity,
and has merited and received the
confidence of its inhabitants. Be-
sides representing the town and city
five years in the legislature, he has.
held various offices of trust, viz.,
member of the school board, chief
engineer of the fire department, trus-
tee of the city library, city solicitor,
trustee and president of the Man-
chester Savings Bank, director of the
Amoskeag Manufacturing Company,
and trustee of the State Industrial
School. No citizen of Manchester,
with possibly the exception of the
late Governor Straw, has exerted so-
much infiuence for its growth and
prosperity as lie. As he looks to-day
upon this beautiful city of forty thou-
yoscph Emerson Dozu.
229
sand people, and their busy mills,
well paved streets, shady side-walks,
fruitfnl gardens, and peaceful homes,
he, if any one, may repeat the words
of the Roman poet, " Quorum magna
pars fai.^'
Judge Clark has not failed to take
a deep interest in his alma mater,
which in 1866 honored herself as
well as him by conferring upon him
the degree of ll. d. In 1861, upon
the invitation of the city councils of
Manchester, he delivered a eulogy
upon the life of President Lincoln,
and in 1880, upon the invitation of
the alumni of Dartmouth college, a
eulogy upon the life of Judge George
F. Shepley before that association,
both of which were subsequently
published. In 1869, on the occasion
of the centennial anniversary of the
founding of the college, he delivered
an address before the alumni at the
invitation of the trustees. A copy
was requested for publication, which
unfortunately was withheld too late
for it to appear with the other pub-
lished proceedings of that occasion.
Judge Clark has contributed liber-
ally to the support of preaching,
worshipping with the Unitarians.
His views correspond with those of
Rev. Dr. A. P. Peabody, of Cam-
bridge, Mass., or with the views of
what may be called the Orthodox
Unitarians. He has no sympathy
with the doctrines of the ultra part of
that denomination. In more recent
years he has worshipped at the Frank-
lin Street Congregational Church (Or-
thodox), of which Rev. Dr. George
B. Spaulding was lately the pastor.
Judge Clark has been twice mar-
ried, — the first time, in 1840, to
Hannah W. Robbins, who died in
October, 1844, leaving no children ;
the second time, to Annie W. Salter,
in 184G, who is still living. He has
had four children, — three sous and
one daughter. The two oldest are
living, engaged in the practice of the
law. One son died in infancy, and
the daughter when between two and
three vears of a2;e.
JOSEPH EMERSON DOW.
The Earliest Settled Lawyer in Littleton.
By a. S. Batchellor.
In the first decade of the present
century the town of Littleton in-
creased in population from 381 to
873. The inhabitants were success-
fully subduing the wilderness, devel-
oping productive farms, establishing
lucrative trade, and introducing man-
ufactories of many articles. New
highways had been constructed which
gave the various sections of the town
convenient access to the county roads
and great turnpikes, and beneficial
communication with the business
towns throughout the country. Then,
as now, Littleton would deserve the
distinction of being a flourishing com-
munity. In 1807 the place attracted
the attention of Joseph Emerson
Dow, a young lawyer of distinguished
family and promising antecedents, as
230
Joseph Emerson Dow.
a suitable location for the practice of
his profession. Early in the year he
became a resident of the north part
of the town, and commenced busi-
ness. Several stores and shops, the
post-office, the distillery, and most of
the influential inhabitants were in
that section. The site of the present
village was then called Amonoosuck,
but it was never a post-office point
until 1820, when one was established
and named C41yuville.
Of Mr. Dow's law practice there is
not much to be said. He had little
of it at home, and carried less to
court. His house was the one now
occupied by George "W". Fuller, but
his office, the old settlers say, was
kept in his hat ; and the extent of
his practice was commensurate with
the office.
An eminent lawyer has said it would
be better for a beginner in the prac-
tice of law to go to some place where
business was plenty and tr}' for a
share of it, than to go where there
was none and try to make it.
Mr. Dow, perhaps, proved to his
own satisfaction the truth of the
proposition at Littleton, Franconia,
and Thornton, where he successively
located.
While a resident at Littleton he
held several town offices. He was a
member of the second town school-
committee, or board of school in-
spectors, as they were then desig-
nated (Act of December 22, 1808).
At this time the town had never had
a settled minister, but the Rev. Da-
vid Goodall, the ancestor of several
attorneys who have been prominent
at the bar, had been for many years
a resident. He was an extensive
land-holder, a leading citizen, and,
though formally retired from the
ministry, he often officiated at the
religious gatherings of the vicinity.
The Rev. Mr. Goodall. Dr. Wra.
Burns, then a young practitioner of
medicine, and Esquire Dow consti-
tuted this board of school inspectors.
An important improvement in the
system of education was thus put in
operation. The board left no formal
report of their doings. The schools
were populous in those days of in-
crease and multiplication, and no
doubt the inspectors did their whole
duty. They are certainly entitled at
this time to the benefit of the legal
maxim. Omnia lyyoesumunttir rite esse
acta.
The impression made upon the
minds of people and pupils by this
board when sitting in official state
cannot be accepted as portrayed in
the irreverent rhymes passed down to
us by tradition. The Muse of David
Goodall, Jr., is held responsible for
the production :
" Lord, have pity-
On this committee,
That stand before us now.
There 's old Bald Head,
And Wooden Leg,
And Popple Headed Dow."
Mr. Dow was a good school-teach-
er, and his services were had in that
employment for many years at Fran-
conia and in the neiohborins; towns.
In 1811* he moved to Franconia, f
where he remained until 1830. He
was a selectman of that town from
1818 to 1828 continuously, with the
exception of two years, and, with the
*He was followed in the practice at Littleton by
Elisha Hinds, Esq., who settled here about the
time of Mr. Dow's removal and remained about
20 years.
tThe dates given to mark periods of residence
are from assessment records, etc., on town books
yoscph Emerson Dow.
231
same exception, was town-clerk from
1817 to 1825. In addition to this be
was generall}'^ moderator of the town-
meetings, and a school officer. He
made little account of his profession
of the law during the remainder of
his days. In fact, he was employed
many years by the Iron Company as
a woodworker.
From Franconia he removed to
Thornton, where he remained till
1847. At the latter place he held
the town offices of moderator and
clerk, and most of the time was post-
master. He was the principal jus-
tice of the peace in that region, and
was much occupied in the duties that
pertain to that office, at a time when
it was one of some importance and
distinction.
Returning to Franconia from Thorn-
ton, he passed his remaining years at
the Ironworks village.
Mr. Chapman, in his book of bi-
ography of Dartmouth college grad-
uates, says Mr. Dow practised his
profession for a time at Strafford,
Vermont ; but his residence there
must have been very brief and proba-
bly uneventful, as his name does not
appear upon the town records.
In the circumstances of birth, early
social surroundings, and first mar-
riage, Mr. Dow seems to have been
fortunate. His parents were Gen.
Moses Dow and Phebe (Emerson)
Dow of Haverhill, where he was born
in 1777.
Gen. Dow was one of the eminent
men of the bar of Grafton county.
He held the office of register of pro-
bate thirty-four years ; was state sen-
'ator and president of the senate,
councillor, judge of the court of com-
mon pleas, major-general of the state
militia, and at several terms of court,
before and after the war of the Rev-
olution, he was acting attorney-gen-
eral in Grafton county.
In the Revolutionary period he was
an earnest patriot, and subsequently
acquired a very extensive [)ractice in
his profession.
His example will become more and
more conspicuous by one notable act,
if for nothing else in his eventful life,
should the rivalries for high political
office increase and intensify in the
future as the present promises. He
declined to accept air election to con-
gress, which he had received from
the general assembly of New Hamp-
shire. His letter* of declination con-
tains evidence both of the high char-
acter of the man and of his refined
literary attainments.
It is to be hoped that his life and
character may receive appropriate at-
tention at the hands of some member
of the bar association. The records
of such men are the most valuable of
the possessions of our profession.
The son, Josei)h E. Dow, received
his education at the schools at Hav-
erhill, and at Dartmouth college,
where he was graduated in 1799. He
was thus a contemporary in college
with Webster, but not a class-mate,
as has been sometimes asserted.
He studied the profession of law
with his father, at Haverhill, and was
admitted to the bar,! at that place,
at the September term, 1802, and in
Caledonia county, Vermont, at Janu-
*Hammoud, N. H. Town Papers, vol. 12, p. 182.
fHou. Jack Mattocks gave it on the authority of
Hon. Peyton R. Freeman, that Jlr. Dow was asked
but one question at his examination for admission,
and to that he gave a true answer. "What is the
best title a person can liave in real estate?" Mr.
Dow replied that he did not know.
232
yoscpk Emerson Dozv.
ary term, 1803. He continued in the
practice, principally at Haverhill,
until he located at Littleton.
He was then a Freemason, but
probably had no active affiliation
with any church. This was certainly
the case in his later years.
In politics he was a Democrat of
the brand commonly termed "dyed
in the wool." He maintained an
erect carriage of a form that was tall,
well filled, and well proportioned.
All with whom he came in contact
were reminded of the characteristics
of a gentleman of the old school, by
his accurate and scholarly' conversa-
tion, his polished manners, and his
agreeable presence.
A short time before coming to Lit-
tleton he married Abigail Arnold, a
lady of excellent family and high
character, a daughter of Hon. Jona-
than Arnold, who was one of the
early members of the Continental
congress from Rhode Island. This
gentleman is reputed to have once
owned the whole of the present terri-
tory of the towns of Lyndon, Sutton,
and St. Johnsbury, Vermont.
Jonathan Arnold was thrice mar-
ried. Gov. Arnold of Rhode Island
was one of the offspring of the third
marriage ; of the second was Free-
love Arnold, wife of Noah Davis of
Haverhill, N. H., and these were the
parents of Judge Noah Davis of New
York. Abigail Arnold was a child
of the first marriage. Her father
dying when she was only eleven years
of age, she was received into the
family of Hon. Charles Marsh, of
Woodstock, Vermont, and thus be-
came the adopted sister of the Hon.
Charles P. Marsh, who recently
closed a long career of honor and
usefulness in public affairs and in
the world of letters.
Abigail Arnold faithfullv followed
the fortunes of her husband until her
death, which occurred Nov. 30, 1824.
Their children were Catharine, who
died in infancy ; James Barber and
Moses Arnold, both born in Little-
ton ; George Burrill, born in Lincoln ;
and Charles Marsh, born in Fran-
con i a.
Moses Arnold Dow became very
successful in the business of pub-
lishing the Waverly Magazine. He
made valuable public benefactions to
the towns of Littleton and Franconia,
and erected an elegant monument in
the village cemetery at Franconia to
the memory of his father and mother,
who there lie buried.
In the summer of 1883 Mr. Dow
procured a large photograph of the
old homestead at North Littleton to
be taken with himself in the fore-
ground. He told me that his mother
was beside him in the spirit form,
while the picture of the old home and
her boy was being made ; and that
she felt the same joy at his presence
with her then that she did in the
years long gone by, when she ca-
ressed him in the cradle in that same
old house.
Mr. Dow, the father, in his subse-
quent marriage with Nancy Bagley of
Thornton, did not better his condi-
tion. Her methods of procedure
may be described by the words of
Bret Harte, as —
I * * *
fre<iiK'iit, and painful, and free."
It is related that she made the dep-
uty sheriff's recollections of his offi-
cial visits to her husband's "• castle"
more vivid than fragrant.
S. PauVs School.
233
Mv. Dow died at Fr.anconia, Aug. 25,
18.^7. He was not a successful man.
His tiirifty neighbors said he did not
like to work. He certainh' failed to
concentrate his energies in any par-
ticular direction so as to achieve any
notable success. In manners he was
gentlemanly, and in appearance pre-
possessing. He sought in many
callings for the key to worldly achiev-
ment. Old age came and he had not
found it. Though he had not suc-
ceeded for himself, he had been use-
ful to the public as a teacher of youth,
as a town official, and as a magis-
trate. Though his habits partook of
the spirit of the times, and he was
generally in financial stress, there is
nothing of fact or tradition, that has
come to us to cast any shadow over
the personal integrity of the man.
His is not an isolated case. Fail-
ures without number mark the his-
tory of our profession. The exam-
ples of those who have succeeded
are studied with pleasure and fol-
lowed with profit. The story of one
who strove and who failed may be
less attractive ; but, while it points to
fatal pitfalls into which a brother has
fallen, it blazes the way of honorable
achievmeut for those who will heed
the warninor.
S. PAUL'S SCHOOL.
By a Boston Alumnus.
If instead of taking the main road
from Concord to the old town of Hop-
kinton the traveller takes another
which runs parallel to it, starting
from the north end of the city, he
will come after half a mile's walk to
a point where there is a total change
in the character of the surroundings.
Looking behind him he will see as-
phalt walks, a dusty road, wooden
and brick buildings, while before him,
through a low thick growth of wood-
land, where the grass has grown liter-
ally under the feet of men and horses,
stretches upward by a gradual incline
the continuation of the road, down
which at a certain hour of the after-
noon the sun pours its blazing flood
of light. The road passes to the
north of the old President Pierce es-
tate ; its termination is reached at the
summit of a hill, from which point
the traveller must work his way
through the woods, first down, then
up again, until he reaches the barren
top of Prospect, a hill of 400 feet,
and bearing a most fitting name. The
view from here is one of the grandest
of the many superb views about Con-
cord. To the left, across the valley
and beyond the foot-hill, nestled
among the elms, lies the capital of
this Granite state, its most conspic-
uous object being the dome of the
Capitol, whose surmounting eagle daz-
zles the eye when the sun's rays are
reflected back by it. To the north-
east, across the Merrimack, rises that
remarkable sand-scoop, a name which
its shape certainly permits, and which
is known for miles around as one of
the most prominent features in the
234
S. Paul's School.
landscape. Beyond this to the right
are the Epsom hills, from which it is
said the Atlantic is visible. The
course of the river can be followed
by its high eastern bank, though the
waters are hidden until they make a
sharp turn in their descent to run the
mills of Hooksett. This sudden ap-
pearance of the Merrimack is a sec-
ond striking feature in the view from
Prospect.
Our subject, however, lies to the
west of Concord, in the little valley
of Millville. Against the horizon
rests the bold, tri-parted mass of the
Francestown mountains, and the two
peaks of the Uncanoonucs which
overhano- Goflfstown. Thence the de-
scent is gradual, the hillsides being
covered with oak and pine, to the
shining waters of Big Turkev lake.
These find an outlet by a stream
which, after sweeping around three
points of the compass, runs a saw-
mill that marks the northern bounda-
ry of 400 acres belonging to S. Paul's
School. The stream then broadens,
and two ponds are formed, whose lit-
tle bays are called familiarly Ontario,
Mexico, etc. Next, a picturesque old
red grist-mill is reached : its wheel
no longer grinds the farmer's corn,
but saws fire-wood and launders
clothes. Next, the stream skirts a
rink, which in winter, even after the
heaviest fall of snow, is alive with
skaters, while in the dry summer sea-
son, from beneath its surface, can
now be pumped .^COOO gallons of
water a day to fill the reservoir among
the hills, which is capal)le of holding
about 2,000,000 gallons. An eighth
of a mile faither down its course the
stream runs along what is probably
one of the most beautiful play -grounds
in the world. The great level^field
is shut in on three sides by woodlaud,
while the opening looks directly up the
slope of the hill on which we may be
supposed to be standing. This, in
spring and summer, is fresh and green
with the vegetation of those seasons,
which is glorious in its richer after-
dress of red and gold.
If we now look straight down into
the valley below, no less than eigh-
teen distinct buildings can be count-
ed. In among the trees stand three
in a group somewhat apart from the
others. First of all we mark the
slender spire of the chapel. It sug-
aests all that is done for the religious
and moral training of the boys, the
development and strengthening of
the highest part of their being. It
reveals the secret of all that is best
about the place, in motive, purpose,
work, and aspiration. Except for
what that heaven-pointing spire repre-
sents, the community had never exist-
ed. For, as Arnold used to say of
Rugby, this is nothing if it is not a
Christian school. Within the little
chapel each morning more than 300
voices offer up their praises to the
Author of their being, the Giver of all
good and perfect gifts, not the small-
est one of which it is their high privi-
lege to enjoy in this valley. They
confess the same faith for which that
famous scholar of ancient times,
whose name they bear, studied, and
wrote, and taught. They pray the
prayer he prayed, aud read the words
he read. Young and unworthy they
may be. yet they claim to belong to
that same school of which he was
once, and is more so to-day, a teach-
er. His splendid life and work and
death are the high standard held up
S. PauVs School.
235
to masters and boys alike, because,
best of all hunuui examples, they
point continually to the perfect ex-
ample of S.vPanl's divine Master and
Teacher. There is something inspir-
ing and bracing to a man living in the
present age to see the evidence fur-
nished here that the faith of 8. Paul
has not changed one whit, and that
its power to make men unselfish and
noble and good is as great to-day as
when he, who carried that faith to
Greece and Italy, a lonely messenger,
looked down upon cities reeking with
vice, and self-consumed with intellec-
tual pride.
But leaving this portion of the sub-
ject, upon which it was not our inten-
tion to dwell so long, let us take an-
other look down into the valley. To-
wai'ds Prospect from the chapel we
see a mass of roof ; it covers a build-
ing not attractive in its outward ap-
pearance, and yet somewhat striking
by reason of the absence of windows
in the lowest story, and the line of
long ones in the second. This is the
school-house, and represents the in-
tellectual side of the place. New
Hampshire has many educational in-
stitutious, but we are reminded that
our subject is one of the youngest,
for thirty years ago this spot was
known only as the summer residence
of a gentleman who was then, and is
even more so to-day, among the fore-
most of the citizens of Boston ; and
if we are to judge him by what he
has done to spread the light of learn-
ing and godliness througiiout the
length and breadth of this land, he
is also one of America's greatest and
best of sons. Upon entering the
school-room we see the explanation
of the striking feature noticed on the
outside. It occupies two full stories,
and the windows are arranged so as
to throw down the light from above.
It is lighted mainly by gas, though
oil lamps are provided for those with
weak eyes ; it is heated by steam and
admirably ventilated. There are near-
ly two hundred desks. On the ros-
trum at one side is the master's desk,
and above it the school motto, " Ea
discamus in terris quorum scientia
perseveret in Coelis." Along the two
end walls are the sixth form stalls
occupied by them at the Thursday
evening '' talk," and when the week's
reports are read out on Saturday
afternoon. The numerous photo-
graphs of classical subjects, the
paintings, the light panels and dark
red of the spaces between them, add
much to the attractiveness of the
room. There are nine recitation-
rooms in the school-house, one of
which contains the cabinet and an-
other the library. The instruction is
by twenty-three masters ; and the fact
is not a little interesting and signifi-
cant, that the twenty-one who left in
the middle of June for their long sum-
mer holiday returned the 10th of Sep-
tember, to a man ; with the two last
additions, the "old boys" who are
now aiding in the school work number
eleven. The course of study is prac-
tically the same as in all schools
which fit for colleges with the highest
standards. It may be described as
classical with a scientific division. In
the preparatory form the youngest
boys, averaging eleven years, are
started in the elements of Latin, and
made ready to begin the regular five
years course, which is classical to the
end of the third year, and this means
that Greek is required for one year at
236
S. Paul's School.
any mte. The fourth form, therefore,
is perhaps the most importaut, as
here the choice is made for the future
whether a boy shall prepare for pro-
fessional life, or mainly for business
or scientific study. If either of the
latter choices are made, the time pre-
viously devoted to the classical lan-
o;uao;es is o;iven over to an increased
amount of mathematics, science, and
English. Those who have passed the
examinations at the close of the fifth
form receive certificates which show
that the school deems them prepared
to enter for their college examina-
tions. Those unsuccessful in obtain-
in": these may of course try such ex-
aminations, but the school cannot be
held responsible for any possible fail-
ure. The sixth is an intermediate
step between school and college life.
Its members are allowed certain priv-
ileges not conceded to the other bovs.
They are " out of study," that is, they
study in their rooms, and, under cer-
tain limitations, control tlieir own
hours of work and recreation. This
is now the case with a large number
of the fifth, and, notwithstanding
some objectionable features, it is cer-
tainly beneficial in lessening the dan-
ger consequent upon the sudden let-
down from the necessary restraint of
the school-room to the all but un-
bounded freedom of the college un-
dergraduate. The sixth form is vir-
tually made up of two divisions :
those in tiie higher take a full classi-
cal course in order to enter college as
sophomores ; those in the lower de-
sire to have another year at the
school before going into business, or
to review and improve their prepara-
tion before entering college as fresh-
men.
To encourage an interest in sub-
jects not directly connected with the
prescribed course of study, there are
various incentives. The Botanical
Society has catalogued between three
and four hundred specimens of the
fiora in the immediate vicinity of the
school. It affords a regular course
of talks or lectures, and is always
ready to assist those who are work-
ing for the annual flower and fern
prizes.
The Scientific Association provides
lectures on other scientific subjects
than botany, takes off parties for
mineralogical expeditions, and en-
courages competitors for the school
mineral prize. In the annual state-
ment the sul)jects are announced for
the composition and English prizes
at the close of the year following.
Thus a course of reading may be easi-
ly laid out for the summer and win-
ter holidays bearing upon these sub-
jects. What is knovvn as the P^nglish
prize is for the best written examina-
tion in English literature, and for a
number of years tiie special subject
has been one of Shakespeare's plays.
It is the rare good fortune of the
compctit(M's to liave the questions set
and their i)apers examined by one
who has done more to make that poet
known to American readers than any
other man living. The last two
IM'izes referred to are given by ahim-
ni ; another gives one for the best
P^nglish declamation, the contest for
which, open to the whole school,
takes place the '* last night." Still
another alumnus gives to that boy of
the third form who passes the best
special examination in the Latin,
Greek, and mathematics of the previ-
ous year a prize of $500, which cov-
S. Paul's School.
237
ers all the expenses of his fourth form
jear.
We have shown that the first thought
of 8. Paul's is to provide for the
growth of boys in Christian manli-
ness, to build up in them character.
And, as the training of the soul is
the most important element in true
education, this has been our first con-
sideration, lu the second thought,
the development of the mind, we have
dwelt more at length, because, in the
popular estimation, this is what is
meant when the word education is
used. We come now to that third
and important part of every boy, his
body.
Looking again from Prospect, we
see a sharply pointed roof : it is the
Gymnasium. And now, o|)ening the
ear to catcli vvhatever sound may
strike it on such an afternoon as the
writer has had in mind, jolly cheers
and excited cries will be heard from
the cricket-field, and even, if wind
permits, can the words be distinctlv
made out as oiie batter calls to an-
other, '' Come on ! come on ! " Turn-
ing our eyes well to the left of the
Gymnasium, we see, here the cricket-
ers in position, there tlie sudden rush
of the tennis players, beyond the lov-
ers of base-ball, and flying past every
now and then, flashing the sunlight
from its polished wheels, the bicycle
which spins around the quarter of a
mile athletic track. Such is the scene
in the summer and fall months. Dur-
ing the snow and cold of winter, mus-
cles are toughened, eyes sharpened,
and lungs strengthened by the sleds
and toboggans on the Russian coast ;
by skates and snow-shoes ; by the
hydraulics, which constitute the spe-
cial winter's training for the Pena-
cook boat-races ; or on the bars and
running-track, at the weights and
ropes and ladders, and with the clubs,
in the great Gymnasium.
Before closing, the writer would
like to mention two buildings which
cannot I)e seen from the hill-top, and
dwell for a moment on the thoughts
suggested by them. They recall the
past, and point on to the future. The
old country house of the founder, af-
ter many an addition to accommodate
the boys as their number increased
from the original five, has been swept
out of sight, though it never can be
from memory. ]Jut the building back
of it, near the pond, was untouched
by the lightning-kindled fire of 1878,
and that yet remains. Outwardly it
is not so very much changed — still the
old brownish-red building ; but within
the transformation is complete. In-
stead of the chemical room with its
interesting cases, and the electric ma-
chine at whose shock many a bov has
winced and jumped after a mathe-
matical recitation in davs gfone bv.
instead of the old play-room where,
on wet days, the cricketer continued
his sport, counting runs as the ball
found its way to the wires of win-
dows in various parts of the room, —
instead of these things there is a
dormitory for thirty boys. In the
story below, twice that number of the
smallest study, little thinking that
ten years ago it was the scene of
many a triple set of nine-pin contests.
The second building, too, recalls the
past. The central story of its main
portion was an old farmer's cottage :
raised up, built under, and added to,
this has been for fifteen years the
" Lower School," the place where the
boys in the " little study" sleep, eat,
238
S. PauVs School.
and play. And these buildings point
to the future. They are plaiuh' but
temporary buildings, and yet they
show well the business principle upon
which the school is managed. As
soon as the money is in hand they
will be combined in one new struct-
ure, where, opportunity being then
afforded for a further increase, sev-
enty-five to one hundred of the
youngest boys will live altogether,
not only eating and sleeping there,
but studying, reciting, and playing.
For already it has been intimated
that there are three main divisions in
the school.
It is interesting to note in this con-
nection that there is at S. Paul's the
very system suggested in a preface to
the last edition of '' Tom Brown's
School Days," for putting a stop to
those outrageous evils of English
school-life, fagging and bullying, so
common before Arnold taught the
boys at Rugby that the chief element
in these customs was the basest kind
of cowardice. After some prefatory
remarks on the dangerous results of
such customs, Mr. Hughes continues
to quote from a letter of his corre-
spondent : "I believe there is only
one complete remedy. It is not in
magisterial supervision, nor in telling
tales, nor in raising the tone of pub-
lic opinion among school-boys, but in
the separation of hoys of different ages
into different schools. There should
be at least three different classes of
schools, — tiie first for boys from nine
to twelve, the second for boys from
twelve to fifteen, the third for those
above fifteen. And these schools
should be in different localities."
It is sufficient to say that at S.
Paul's, where for the past fifteen
years such exactl}' has been the sys-
tem, both bullying and fagging are
absolutely unknown.
The writer may be pardoned if he
here records a fact which has ever
had the deepest significance to his
mind, that though on the cricket or
foot-ball field nearly every afternoon
of his life here from the " shell" or
preparatory part of the sixth form, he
never heard an oath of any kind on
the play-ground.
We must make an end to this arti-
cle, but before closing must confess
that it seems just as absurd to speak
of Rugby without Dr. Arnold as to
mention 8. Paul's without its rector.
But he still lives, and his daily work
— his life work — tells its own story.
The day will come, however, — may it
be far away in the future, — when the
name of him who under God has
made S. Paul's what it is, shall be as
well known among these granite hills,
which really know so little of it now,
and in America at large, as that fa-
mous schoolmaster's name is known
in England, which stands so high in
the honor roll of its great and good.
The Northern Volunteers.
239
THE NORTHERN VOLUNTEERS.
By Col. T. J. Livermore.
lu the vast host which was mar-
shalled under our banners from April,
1861, to April. 1865, there was a
sreat variety of individual character,
and there were a good many men
whose conduct did not justify what
I shall say of the volunteers in gen-
eral ; but there was a distinct charac-
ter which belonged to our men, both
individually and collectively, which
sustained the fortunes of our arms in
over two thousand engagements. It
was not confined to any regiment, it
did not belong to any state or section,
and it displayed itself in men from
the city and men from the couutrs^
alike. There were volunteer regi-
ments which were as firm in battle as
was ever anv regiment in anv armv in
the world, and there were other regi-
ments which were unstable and weak ;
but, in looking back at them, I can-
not see that there was any difference
in the character of the men in the
ranks which warranted the difference
in the conduct of the regiments. It
seems to me thatihe disparity was due
entirely to the quality of the officers or
to the fortunes of war. With the same
officers to train and lead them, one
thousand men would have made as
good a regiment as another thousand,
if we except some few picked regi-
ments on the one hand, and some
regiments of foreigners on the other
hand. It is this character, which was
to be discovered everywhere in the
army, that I shall speak of. I shall
not attempt to compare the volunteers
of the North with those of the South.
"We have come to believe that the
principles for which we of the North
fought have been finally accepted by
the South, and that no word of com-
mendation from our side will be taken
as a justification of the cause for
which our adversaries contended ; and,
now that we can review the events of
the war in a historical spirit, I ara
sure that no Northern soldier whose
experience arrayed him on the field
of battle, will deny the perseverance,
endurance, impetuosity, and high
valor of the Southern volunteers. I
will go no further in characteiizing
them, but to say that to have met such
men without defeat is the best proof
of the quality of the Northern volun-
teers.
There were 4,000,000 men and
youths in the loyal states in 1861 who
were fit for military service. Over
two millions volunteered to fight
against the Rebellion. Five thousand
commissioned oflScers and ninety thou-
sand enlisted men were killed in ac-
tion or died of wounds, and I esti-
mate that nearly five hundred thou-
sand more were wounded. Over two
thousand commissioned officers and
170,000 men died of disease while
in the service. At the close of the
war a million of men were under arms
in the armies of the North.
One unacquainted with armies does
not realize the vastness of our forces
from the mere statement of their
numbers. A million of men arrayed
in line of battle would extend two
hundred miles. Could the trumpet
call up the dead to stand in the ranks
once more, that legion of heroes
240
The Northern Volunteers.
would gaze forth from a line of bat-
tle over fifty miles long.
The volunteers came from all class-
es in civil life. It will be an impres-
sive chapter in history which recounts
how army after army was summoned
to the field as the war went on. until
half the able-bodied men of the North
were under arms. How, at each call,
the farmer left the plough in the fur-
row, the harvest ungathered, the me-
chanic dropped his tools, the teacher
quit his desk, the student his book,
and by the hundred thousand hurried
to the field to battle for the Union.
Those in the ranks were mainly young
men. Their average age was from
twenty-four to twenty-five years.
But this average does not tell the
story of the youth. There wei'e many
thousands between seventeen and
twenty-one who bore tlieir full share
of the brunt of war. It would startle
the fathers and mothers of to-day to
hear it suggested that, in the event
of war, their l)oys yet in tlie schools
might become soldiers : Init there was
many a lad in '61 vvlio left his books
at seventeen to follow the drum, and
matured into early manhood in the
rapid and momentous experiences of
campaigns and battles.
Two thirds of our army were native
Americans. They outnnm])ered the
foreign born in [iroportion to tlie
whole number fit for military service
in the North. The high personal
character of the volunteers is marked
by the few desertions from their
ranks. In the regular army there
were two hundred and forty-four de-
sertions to the thousand during the
war. There were less than sixty-
three to the thousand from the volun-
teer organizations, and these were
not nearly all chargeable to the vol-
unteers, for very many of the de-
serters were substitutes — a set of
men who enlisted for money alone,
and who had no love of country'.
The volunteers enlisted from patriot-
ism. Neither poverty, the allure-
ments of high pay, the love of glory,
nor a spirit of unrest, could have led
more than half the able-bodied men
of the North to volunteer for war.
The reflection may occui' to some,
as it sometimes did to those of us in
the field who enlisted early in the
war. that the men who did not volun-
teer until they secured great bounties
were somewhat mercenary in their
motives. But when we consider that
a large part, perhai)S the most of
these men, had to leave dependants
at home, and that if they survived
they risked not only death on the
battlefield, but the impaii'ment of
health and vigor for life from wounds
and exposure, we cannot say that
tliey did themselves and their fami-
lies more than scant justice to wait
for a bounty which, in extreme cases,
did not exceed what they would have
earned at their trades in three or four
vears. There is manv a veteran to-
day who endures the pangs of old
wounds that will never cease, or bat-
tles against tlie malaria which has
not left him for twenty years, who
realizes that he gave to his country
what money could not pa\' for.
A striking difference between our
volunteer army and the other great
armies of the world was, that in it
tliere was no class distinction be-
tween tliose who were officers and
those who were in the ranks. The
reader of military history will find
that in " the accounts of battles in
The JVoi'thern Volunteers.
241
older countries the historian seems to
regard tlie otHcers as a distinct order
of men, who are alwaN's actuated by
moral courage and the sense of Iionor,
while he spealvs of the men as beings
who are sustained In' the example of
the officers, or pliysical courage, or
enthusiasm. And if a retreat is de-
scribed, it is said that it was the men
who gave way, in spite of the exer-
tions of the oflicers. This distinction
is doubtless due to the fact tliat the
officers were appointed from the no-
bility and gentry, while the soldiers
were conscript peasants or mercena-
ries.
No such difference existed between
the officers and men of our volunteers.
It is true that education and social
training and traditions had made a
wide difference among men with re-
spect to good faith in doing duty,
truthfulness, unselfishness in the hour
of sacrifice, and, in short, the sense
of honor, and that the morale of the
army depended upon the selection of
men for officers who had these traits.
But there was no class distinction ;
that was " tlie best blood" that had
"most iron in 't." For each officer
who fell there was a man in the ranks
to take his sword. It was the rule to
promote from the ranks. I knew a
regiment in which sixty men were
promoted to be officers, and which
took back at the end of the war only
one of its original officers, sirch were
its losses. 1 also knew a company in
a three mouths regiment which fur-
nished twenty-two officers from its
seventy-six men to other organiza-
tions. It was said of Napoleon's
soldiers tliat each one carried a mar-
shal's hCdon in his knapsack. This
was more nearly true of our volun-
teers. We had no "gentleman ap-
prentice " who did duty by proxy to
entitle him to a commission such as
was known under Napoleon. With
all this equality between soldiers and
officers, the men were very subordinate
and amenable to discipline. They
had an inbred resi)ect for constituted
authority, and they looked to the
officers for the example of good con-
duct.
The capacity which our people
showed for war was wonderful in
view of the circumstances. For half
a century we had had no war which
called for great levies. The militia
were few in numbers and far behind
the militia of to-day in disci[)liue and
in the practice of the serious duties
of the soldier. Military exercises in
the common schools were unknown.
No legion of veterans lingered on
the stage like those of to-day. The
old soldiers of the Mexican war were
comparatively few. The whole coun-
try was devoted to industry and bent
upon the pursuit of wealth, and to
others l)eside the misguided men of
the South it seemed as if the people
of the North would never sliake off
the lethargy of [)eace and submit
themselves to the partings, the un-
certainties, the hardships, the blood-
shed, the mournings of war. But
the first gun that was fired u[)on Fort
Sumter thundered a reveille that woke
the sleeping soldier in 2,000,000 men.
War then became the all en^jrossins^
trade, and, although the ai)prentice-
ship was hard and full of perils, it
served to train up a nation of vet-
erans.
If the conduct of the volunteers
during four years of war proved that
the martial quality was native in
242
The JVorthern Volunteers.
them, the manner of their return at
the end of the war proved their love
of peace and their inbred respect for
law and order. The Eno-lish histo-
rian praises Cromwell's array of
50,000 veterans, then the most for-
midable in the world, for disbanding
and being absorbed into the com-
munity without unlawful conduct or
tumult. At the end of our war a
million soldiers disbanded without
tumult, and subsided among the peo-
ple without a sign of disorder. Fa-
miliar with bloodshed, they were not
hardened by it. Accustomed to the
freedom of camps, and living in an
enemy's country, they were not un-
settled by it. As it was with Crom-
well's veterans, they were, for the
most part, better citizens for their
military training.
The wonder of the sudden disso-
lution of this host of veterans was
deeply impressed upon those who
witnessed the grand review of the
armies in Washington on the eve
of disbanding them. Two hundred
thousand bronzed and hardy soldiers
marched by the j)resident in front of
the White House during two long
summer days. They passed swiftly,
with the swinging step and assui'ed
touch — shoulder to shoulder — acquir-
ed by long practice and many marches.
Their scars, their fearless bearing,
and their tattered flags told the story
of their battles. Among them rode
many a commander whose name is
historic — Grant, Sherman, Sheridan,
Meade, and the rest. It seemed as
though these famous corps, divisions,
brigades, and regiments were too
solidly united by comradeship, too
proud of their history, too well accus-
tomed to act together, too conscious
of their power, to be dissolved and
thenceforward exist only in memory.
Yet that was the last review, and in
one short month that vast host had
stacked its arms and furled its ban-
ners and had dispersed forever. To
many a soldier it was like breaking
up his home.
THE OFFICERS.
In raising vast levies of troops and
organizing them into regiments, it was
unavoidable that many men without
military instruction, and sometimes
men of bad antecedents, should be
appointed officers ; and it sometimes
happened where officers were elected
by the men, that the man who could
best practise the arts which prevail in
political elections got the commis-
sion ; and, again, the exigencies of
recruiting sometimes required that
the man who got the most recruits to
enroll themselves was made the cap-
tain or colonel. Such a man has
been likened by the Comte de Paris,
in his history of our war, to the an-
cient proprietary colonel, who held
his commission by virtue of his pro
prietorship in the men, or the com-
mander of the independent company
of cavalry of the middle ages, who
commanded by virtue of his contract
for the services of his men. But
there were not many bad officers from
this source, and the governors of
states usually appointed men whose
position and character in civil life
warranted the distinction.
Gen. de Chanal, an officer of the
French army who was with our army,
says that with us " the social hie-
rarchy was transported to the army
and became the military hierarchy,"
and, with deep insight into the spirit
The JVorthern Vohinteers.
243
of our institutions, he says that from
tills very fact our army did not have
to surround itself with the precautions
which are necessarv to guard a mili-
tary organization which has no other
support than the severitv of its mili-
tary regulations.
The practical turn of mind of the
American led to employing every
man of reputable character who had
seen anj' military service. AYith one
accord East and West first turned to
the old soldiers for officers. I was in
Galena, 111., when Fort Sumter was
fired on. A company was immediate-
ly raised there. I was attracted to the
unwonted sight of drill, which was
begun at once. The gentleman who
had been asked to drill the men was
an ex-army officer, and he had assem-
bled the company in a vacant lot and
was there at work in civilian dress.
He had a ramrod in his hand for a
sword. With a quiet and business-
like air he was patiently teaching the
men to put their left feet down to-
gether, and to face to the right and
left and about. I next saw him in
front of Petersburg in ISG-i on horse-
back. He was in uniform. He pre-
served the same quiet and business-
like air. He was in command of the
armies, and his name was Ulysses S.
Grant.
Much criticism has been uttered
upon the unfortunate selection of
generals by the president. For a
part of these he was not responsible.
He appointed them in deference to
advisers high in public estimate. As
for the rest, looking at the situation
in the light thrown backward, I do
not see what there was to enable the
president to detect military genius
except experience. There were few
sapient enough to criticise the military
character of the commanders he ap-
pointed at the time. It was easy to
do this after they had been proven
incompetent. Before the hard fight-
ing was half through he had had the
wisdom to select Grant and Sherman.
If the genei'als to command a great
army were to be selected to-day from
officers of the army who had never
conducted great operations in the
field, no one could predict who would
prove equal to the great commands.
The P>nglish, with an armj' whose
drum-beat is heard around the world,
do not always find it easy to select a
competent commander even to fight
naked and half-armed children of the
desert.
The incompetent officers of the line
in our arm}' were soon weeded out by
the rough harrow of war. Their
commissions rarely survived a cam-
paign. The blunders of some of
them were very amusing. Early in
the war a company in which I carried
a musket had a captain who, it always
seemed to me, owed his office to his
martial air, for that was all there was
martial about him. He never got so
that he could remember all the com-
mands for drilling the company. One
day he deployed them as skirmishers,
and then rallied them around himself
to repel imaginary cavalry. He then
forgot what to sav to straighten them
out into line again. The men waited
fixed at "charge bayonets." The
suspense grew painful. At last the
captain thundered out, "Get out
there as skirmishers, everj' one of
you, or I'll put you all in the guard-
house ! " The captain soon afterward
resigned, under the advice of an ex-
amining board.
244
The Northern Vohmteers.
DISCIPLINE.
Gen. Washington said that a most
perfect despotism should exist in an
army. It may be doubted whether,
with the continental soldiers, who had
taken upon themselves the title of
rebels when that title was full of
danger, or with the volunteers of our
late war, such a despotism was as nec-
essary as that which must prevail in an
army of conscripts or mercenaries, in
which the private soldier must sur-
render his autonomy, and manifest the
surrender by servility. In such an
army obedience and respect for offi-
cers must be made habitual by the
minute exactions of a code of disci-
l)line timed for every hour and fitted
for every occasion. But our volun-
teers enlisted with the purpose of
obeying orders. What they needed
was instruction. They were not ser-
vile, but they paid the formal tributes
of respect which the regulations re-
quired cheerfully.
New regiments sometimes com-
plained of discipline before they saw
the benefit of it, but as soon as they
had been in battle a new lio-ht dawned
upon them, and they valued discipline
at its true worth. In the supreme
hour of battle, when exact and in-
stant obedience to orders, even to
death, was the price of victory, the
soldier saw the benefit of discipline.
Thereafter he entertained contempt
for a badly disciplined regiment.
Gen. de Chanal writes that while
our armies did not have the external
marks of discipline such as may be
seen in European armies, their disci-
pline was as good, if not better, and
that few troo})s are so submissive to
tlieir commanders.
The Armv of the Potomac at Get-
tysburg was a conspicuous example
of good discipline. The fighting was
of the severest kind for two days,
and nearlv everv reo;iment on the
field was under fire, and good conduct
was universal. The larger part of
our men were those in whom respect
for law and order had been bred from
childhood, and their obedience rested
on firmer foundations than the exac-
tions of military rule and etiquette.
Serious refusal to obey orders was of
rare occurrence. Mutinies were al-
most unknown. Of course there were
the timid, who had to he held up to
their work in battle, and the vicious
and unruly, upon whom a heavy hand
had to be sometimes placed. But
these were the few.
I will relate an incident to show .
how deeply the habit of obedience
sank into the minds of the men. In
our regiment it was a standing order
that all wounded men who were able
should report to the captains be-
fore leaving the field of battle. At
White Oak Swamp a cannon shot
passed through our company as we
rose from where we lay to change
position. It struck down two good
men. One gathered himself up out
of the dust and followed to where we
had halted. One arm had been al-
most severed by the shot, and hung
by a shred. Holding it up with his
other hand, the brave man came
slowly up to the captain with reso-
lute, pallid face, and gravely said, —
"■ Captain, I am wounded, and would
like to go to the rear." What soldier
in the world could carry obedience
further.?
MILITARY SKILL.
The military skill wliich the indi-
vidual soldier must attain before he
The JVorthcrn Volunteers.
24s
becomes efficient in war is that which
enables him to march elbow to elbow
with his comrades in the ranks,
straight ahead, so that a long line
will advance over the country without
becoming crooked or broken u|) ; to
go through the various evolutions in
column or line, to load and fire with
rapidit}' and effectiveness, and to
handle arms with skill and ease.
These are the chief results of mili-
tary skill. To one unacquainted with
the subject the attainment of this
skill would not seem a matter of
much time, but, in fact, it involved
the making over of the carriage and
gait, the grafting of habits of celerity
and promptness, and the teaching of
many things which had to be mem-
orized with great exactness.
Our foreign critics have said that
for a time we lost chances for victory
because our ranks did not respond
quickly enough to command, and that
our ti'oops were heavy for want of
practice in grand parade movements,
and that their inexperience and un-
familiarity with war led them to
intrench too much. This last criti-
cism reverses the fact. It was ex-
perience in war that led us to intrench,
and we did not adhere to this habit
when it became unprofitable.
The Army of the Potomac fought
fifteen battles, including the fierce
contests of Fair Oaks, second Bull
Run, Antietam, and Fredericksburg,
and the Seven Days battles, before
they intrenched on the field of battle ;
and after the year of intrenching in
the Wilderness and Petersburg cam-
paigns, the armies under Grant threw
down the shovel, and forgot the habit
of intrenching in the last campaign.
There is justice in the other criti-
cisms. The first battle of Bull Run
was lost by reason of want of disci-
pline and military skill. Without
doubt the Northern army was com-
posed of the very best material there,
but a multitude of men who have not
learned how to obey orders, and that
orders must be obeyed, derives no
advantage from numbers ; and our
army was neither well disciplined nor
well drilled. Shiloh afforded another
instance. Gen. Grant tells us that
three of his divisions were entirely
raw, and that both officers and men
were ignorant of their duties, and
that, as a consequence, many of the
regiments broke at the first fire, and
that afterward he found thousands of
these men " lying under cover of the
river bluff, panic stricken," and that
most of them " would have been shot
where they lay, without resistance,
before they would have taken mus-
kets and marched to the front to
protect themselves." Yet these were
strong manful Westerners, of un-
doubted native courage and intelli-
gence ; and Gen. Grant says of them, —
" Better troops never went on a field
of battle than many of these, officers
and men, afterward proved them-
selves to be, who fled panic-stricken
at the first whistle of bullets and shell
at Shiloh."
The Army of the Potomac did not
have the bad fortune to engage in
battle until it had been drilled and
disciplined, and, as a consequence, it
went through its first bloody campaign
with no misconduct of this kind.
Whatever criticism may be made of
Gen. McClellan's conduct of opera-
tions in the field, no candid soldier
who served under him can refuse his
praise and gratitude to that great
246
The Northei'n Vohtiiteers.
organizer of armies for tlie courage
and foresight wliich sustained liim in
his purpose, against the clamors of
the North to move against the enemy,
until he had made his army fit to
take the field.
The armies, both East and West,
became equal to tactics in the face of
the enemy before the end of 1862,
although it was in the very campaign
itself that our soldiers had to learn
much of their trade. Later in the
war grand movements were performed
with ease. In the pursuit of Lee,
April 6, 1865, a line of four brigades
of the second army corps, over a mile
long, swept forward, over hills, across
ravines, and through forest and field
for thirteen miles, attacking the ene-
my's rear guard of infantry and ar-
tillery, which made stands at intervals
of two or three miles, without stop-
ping to straighten the line, and rout-
ing them every time. This was a
display of tactics on a grand scale,
and it is difficult to believe that for-
eign armies could do better.
ENDURANCE.
Our soldiers underwent trials of
their endurance unusual with standing
armies, from the ignorance of officers
in the matter of preserving their
health, and the inexperience of the
men themselves in camp life ; but
knowledge came with time, and the
native skill in woodcraft and building
shelter, and abundant and regular
rations and plenty of clothing, did
much to mitigate the evils of igno-
rance. Rations were not indeed al-
ways on hand, or always palatable.
The soldiers had so little respect for
the corned beef that they called it
" salt horse," and it was said that the
letters " B. C." were found imprinted
on some of the hard bread. It was
insisted that these letters marked the
era in which the bread was baked.
The comparison of the rate of
death from disease in our volunteer
army with that of other armies, al-
though not a conclusive test of endur-
ance, has some significance. With
our army it was 8.6 per cent, during
the war. In the British array it was
11.3 per cent, in the Peninsular war
(1811-1814), and 20.2 per cent, in
the Crimea.
Marches are a test of endurance
Probably the long march of weeks or
days, which shows the strength of all
the men, affords a better comparison
than the forced march, which leaves
many by the roadside and proves
only what the strongest can do.
Sherman's army marched 190 miles
in seven days, an average of 27^ miles
a day. The Army of the Potomac made
twenty-five miles a day for several
days in May, 1865.
Coming to forced marches, we read
that twenty-three miles in eighteen
hours, and twenty-seven miles in
nineteen hours, were looked upon as
extraordinary marches by two divi-
sions of Germans on the way to
Gravelotte. Friaut's French division
made ninety-nine miles in forty-eight
hours to reach the field of Austerlitz.
Crawford's British division marched
sixty-two miles in twenty-six hours
to the field of Talavera, and forty
miles in nineteen hours over the
mountain roads of Spain in pursuit
of Soult. But on this last march
many men gave out, and some fell
and died, while on the former march
only seventy men gave out. This
shows how differences in roads and
The Northern Volunteers.
247
seasons render comparisons of forced
marches very uncertain. Jackson's
corps marched about sixty miles in
forty hours in turning Pope's flank, but
many broken down soldiers lined the
road. The second army corps, under
Hancock, made thirty-two miles in
twenty-two hours on the way to Get-
tysburg on a Southern summer day.
Here, too, many men gave out and
lay down by the roadside.
The pedestrian, striding over our
smooth roads, with little or no load,
may think these marches slow, but
our infantry soldier carries nearly
forty pounds of arms, ammunition,
rations, blankets, etc. ; he fords
streams in his shoes and socks, and
then tramps on in wet foot gear, and
perhaps with blistered feet as a re-
sult, and instead of doing his work in
a steady stride, he is vexed and wea-
ried by many little halts, followed by
rushes to close up the column.
The patient and unflagging industry
of the volunteers in building earth-
works was wonderful. The construc-
tion and use of these earthworks con-
tributed a new chapter to the science
of war. Our regular troops carried
the art out to the plains, and even
the Indian has borrowed it there.
Our soldiers have grown used to see-
ing these wild horsemen crouching
behind rifle pits of the most approved
kind.
In our war, the labor in the trenches
sometimes made the men pretty rusty.
A soldier at Hilton Head, in 1862,
had somewhat neglected the care of
his arms by reason of toiling in the
earthworks. His colonel reproved
him for his dirty rifle at inspection
one day. He excused himself in this
wise : " Yes, I know my gun is dirty,
colonel, but I've got the brightest
shovel you ever saw ! "
TEMPERAMENT.
M. Roussillon, a French officer,
writes of the temperament of the op-
posing armies in our war as follows :
"They adopted in the two armies
sombre uniforms — blue in the North,
gray or brown in the South, — which
gave the troops a sad aspect, in sym-
pathy with the cast of mind of the
men of the North. In their camps
there never were, as in ours, high
spirits, gaiety, and songs. The bands
were bad, and played rueful airs."
This shadowy atmosphere existed
only in the imagination of one who
was unduly impressed with the Amer-
ican gravity, which does not extend
below the surface. There was noth-
ino; theatrical in the mould or manner
of the American volunteer. He did
not need to keep up the light and
reckless air of a Charles O'Malley
for the sake of professional reputa-
tion. War was only a temporary
business with him, and nothing but
his manhood was on trial. But no
soldier ever threw off care more
readily when the time came. A thou-
sand memories of song and story and
jest mingle in the recollection of cam-
paign and camp. The march was
often the time of banter and repartee,
and the swinging measure of the army
song. The men, too, were quick to
apply soubriquets. A three months
regiment I knew was called the
" Ragged Zouaves," from the condi-
tion of its shoddy clothing. A rosy
youth in the ranks got the name of
" Blossom," and a man of giant stat-
ure was entitled " Baby."
[To be concluded.]
248
Windham y N. H.
WINDHAM, W. H.— Chapter 4.
By Hon. Leonard A. Morrison, Author
AND "History of
MEMBERS OF COXSTITUTIONAL CONVEN-
TIONS AND REPRESENTATIVES,
1775 TO 1884.
When royal government was op-
posed in New Hampshire at the com-
mencement of the Revolution, a con-
vention was called in Exeter in 1774,
and most of the towns in the state
were represented bv delegates. The
second convention met in May, 1775,
to consult on the state of affairs, and
was elected for six months. The
third convention, called agreeably
to a recommendation of congress,
met on the 21st of December, of
1775, and proceeded to form a tem-
porary government, and the first con-
stitution of New Hampshire was
adopted January 5, 1776.
By the town records John Dins-
moor was chosen a delegate June 2,
1775, and subsequently James Betton
was chosen, who served till 1776.
Since that date our members have
been, —
1778. John Dinsmoor.
1779-'8l. James Betton.
1782. Three conventions, Sam-
uel Morrison, James Betton, John
Dinsmoor.
1783. Gain Armor.
1784-86. James Betton.
1787, '88. James Gilmore.
1789. James Betton.
171)0. Voted not to send.
1791. James Betton.
1791. September convention,
James Davidson.
1792. Voted not to send.
1793. James Betton.
1794. James Gilmore.
OF " History of the Morrison Family"
Windham, N. H."
1795-98. Samuel Armor.
1799. John Dimsmoor.
1800. No record.
1801. '02. Samuel Armor.
1803. John Dinsmoor.
1804. Samuel Armor.
1805. John Dinsmoor,
1806. John Campbell.
1807-11. Samuel Armor.
1812. John Campbell.
1813. Samuel Armor.
1814-18. John Campbell.
1819, '20. Samuel Armor.
1821. John Nesmith — since
lieut. governor of Massachusetts.
1822-24. Jonathan Parker.
1825, '26. Jeremiah Morrison.
1827, '28. Samuel Anderson.
1829-'34. Isaac McGaw.
1835. Alexander Park.
1836. Isaac McGaw.
183". Voted not to send.
1838. Alexander Gordon.
1839. Isaac McGaw.
1840. Samuel W. Simpson.
1841. Jeremiah Morrison.
1842, '43. Theodore Dinsmoor.
1844, '45. John Hills.
1846, '47. Isaac McGaw.
1848. Theodore Dinsmoor.
1849, '50. Jonathan Parker.
1851. John Hills.
1852. Jeremiah Morrison.
1853. Samuel W. Simpson.
1854. Theodore Dinsmoor.
1855, '56. Robert B. Jackson.
1857. Samuel W. Simpson.
1858, '59. No choice.
1860, '61. Samuel Campbell.
1862-64. Isaac Emerson.
1865. William C. Harris.
Windham, N. H.
249
18G6. George W. Weston.
1867. Loren Thayer.
1868-70. Rei Hills.
1871, '72. Albert A. Morrison.
1873-75. William D. Cocliran.
1876. Joseph P. Crowell.
1877. Abel Dow.
1878. Horace Anderson.
1879. '80. Abel Dow.
1881, '82. Horace Anderson.
1850. Delegate to constitutional con-
ventiou, Jeremiah Morrison.
1876. Delegate to constitutional con-
vention, Horace Berry.
WAR OF 1812-'15.
The war of the Revolution had
passed and the colonies were free,
but the best of feeling did not exist
between Elngland and her late col-
onies. England was arrogant in her
demands and in her treatment of
weaker nations ; the United States
was jealous of its rights. War was
hardly averted in 1795. At length
the conflict caine, and the soldiers of
Windham were as follows : Benjamin
Blanchard, William Balch, Robert P.
Dinsmoor, Samuel Dinsmoor, Samuel
Davidson, Richard Dow, Thomas
Nesmith, David Campbell. David M.
Gait, Alexander Gordon, John B.
Hilands, Moses Sargent, Philip K.
Wiles, Rufus Patterson, Stephen E.
Blaisdell, Samuel Rowell, Amos Dow,
Thomas Moore, David Durrer, Phin-
eas Danforth, .James Simpson, Sam-
uel Marshall, Aaron Senter, Matthew
Clark, AVilliam Simpson, John Nes-
mith, AVoodbridge Cottle.
The war was exceedingly unpopu-
lar, and when news of peace was re-
ceived there was great joy among the
people. The news was brought by
Samuel Armor, on horseback, from
Haverhill, Mass. Rapidly he came
from the latter town, and joyfully
proclaimed the glad tidings. Riding
up to the houses of the people he
shouted "Peace! Peace! Peace!"
and with a few explanatory words
reined his horse into the highway and
was gone. The news spread rapid-
ly, and joy and gladness reigned su-
preme.
ECCLESIASTICAL HISTOUY.
The Scotch settlers of Windham
came to this wintry land to have
'A faith's pure shrine,"
and
' To make a happy fireside clime
For weans and wife."
They were hard-headed, long-head-
ed, level-headed, uncompromising, un-
conquered, and unconquerable Pres-
byterians. They were of a stern and
rugged type. They clung to the ten-
ets of the Presbyterian faith with a
devotion, constancy, and obstinacy
little short of bigotry, and in it was
mingled little of that charity for
others of a different faith " which
suffereth long ; " nor is this surprising
when we consider the circumstances
of their lives, and the stock to which
they belonged. They were the de-
scendants of a brave and heroic race
of men and women, who had resisted
the enci'oachments of the '• Estab-
lished Church " of England, risen in
opposition to it, and in 1638 entered
iiko a '"solemn league and covenant"
to maintain the reformed religion in
Scotland, and to resist and put down
popery and prelacy : hence the name
of "■ Covenanter."
For the preservation of their relig-
ious liberty and their form of faith
the Covenanters had struggled, and
fought, and suffered amid the moors
250
Windham, N. H.
and mountains and fastnesses of
Scotland with a fortitude and heroism
unsurpassed. Many had laid down
their lives to secure Its preservation ;
many struggled bravely on during the
troubled years, bearing aloft the en-
sign of their faith, which they believed
to be the only true faith, and their
banner the only true standard of the
cross.
The foot of the persecutor followed
the faithful to Ireland, and there
they felt the avenging arm of resisted
and arbitrary power. Some of those
who had taken part in the brave
defence of Londonderry, Ireland,
owned land here which was occupied
by their sons. The story of the past,
of the conflicts in Scotland, the flight
to Ireland, the endurance and suffer-
ings and sacrifices and final triumph
at the " siege of Derry," were fresh
in their memories ; they were en-
graven on the tablets of their souls,
and the lessons influenced their lives.
So the faith of the stern, grim Cov-
enanter was transplanted to Wind-
ham. It took root and flourished on
this soil, and grew with a strong,
steady, solid growth in this town.
The Scotch settlers were a conserva-
tive and thinking people, and their
institutions were the result of thought.
Many of the characteristics, senti-
ments, and much of the feelings of
the Covenanters were here, and these
have not entirely died out of their
descendants. The religious side of
the characters of the first residents
was largely developed.
The town has been strongly ortho-
dox from the beginning. Many fam-
ilies attended meeting at what is now
East Derry. After attending to their
morning duties, the whole family, —
men, women, and children, — would
walk eight or nine miles to meeting,
listen to two long sermons, and then
return to their homes, seldom reach-
ina; them till after dark. So thev
prized the sanctuar}', and appre-
ciated and dearly loved the faith in
which they trusted.
The first religious meetings were
holden in barns during the warm sea-
son for eleven years, when, in 1753,
the first meeting-house was built, on a
hiffh elevation south-east of Cobbett's
pond, now known as " Cemetery
hill."
Our Scotch ancestors, exiles from
the lochs and glens of Scotland,
could not forget the customs of the
dear old father-land. So they located
the burial-place of themselves and
their kindred in the shadow of the
kirk. It is a beautiful spot. The
lovely lake nestles at the foot of this
wave-washed hill, shimmering with
brightness in the summer sun, and in
autumn mirroring in its bosom all the
beauty of the forest trees. It is a
pleasant place on which to pitch one's
tent after the weary march, when
with folded arms the silent ones will
rest undisturbed till the reveille call
at the great awakening. So the dead
rested near where the living wor-
shipped, where in summer days,
through the opened windows which
let in the sunshine and the breath of
flowers, the words as the}' fell from
the lips of the living preacher might
be borne b}' the breezes which gently
waved the grass that grew and the
flowers that bloomed on the mounds
of the peaceful sleepers.
The first pastor was Rev. William
Johnston who received a call to settle
here July 12, 17-16, but was not in-
Windham, N. H.
251
stalled till 1747. His salary was two
hundred pounds and the use of the
parsonage, besides three hundred
pounds as a settlement. He ordained
as ruling elders Nathaniel Hemphill,
Samuel Kinkead, and John Kyle.
By the dismemberment of Windham
in 1752, whereb}' one fourth of our
territory was annexed to Salem, the
society was so much weakened that
its minister could not be supported,
and he was dismissed in July, 1752.
Mr. Johnston was a highly educated
man, having been graduated at the
University of Edinburgh, Scotland,
after a seven years course. He
studied theologv with the Rev. Dr.
Kerr. He was of Scotch blood, and
was born in 1710 in Mullow Male,
county of Tyrone, Ireland, and was
the son of William and Elizabetii
(Hoey) Johnston. He came to Amer-
ica previous to 1736, was then pastor
of the Presbyterian church at Wor-
cester, Mass. After leaving town he
preached at Corry's Brook, now Du-
anesburg, Washington county, N. Y.
He afterwards purchased five hun-
dred acres of land at Sidney Plains,
N. Y., where his descendants " live
unto this day." He died at Florida,
Montgomery county, N. Y., May 10,
1782. He married, while in AVind-
hara, a sister of the wife of Rev.
William Davidson of Londonderry, —
Anna, the daughter of Dr. John and
Anna (Witter) Curamiugs. Her fa-
ther was a surgeon, and died in the
British navy on the coast of Africa.
Rev. John Kinkead, of Scotch
blood, was installed October, 1760,
with a salary of £1300 old tenor.
He ordained John Armstrong, Samuel
Campbell, David Gregg, Lieut. Sam-
uel Morrison, Robert Hopkins, and
John Tuffts as ruling elders. The
ministrations of Mr. Kinkead were
not satisfactory, nor his moral de-
portment such as to command the
respect and love of his people, and
he was dismissed in April, 1765.
Rev. Simon Williams was ordained
in December, 1766, with a salary of
about $233.33, with a settlement of
$200, and the use of the parsonage.
He was pastor for twenty-seven
years, dying November 10, 1793.
He did a noble work, and his influ-
ence lived after him. He established
a private academy which was an
important tributary of Dartmouth
college. As a scholar he was em-
inent, and was much beloved by his
people. He married Maria Floyd,
who died July 28, 1805. They
were born February 19, 1729, the
same hour, in Meath, county of
Tyrone, Ireland, and they are buried
in the "Cemetery on the Hill," and
his grave is directly beneath where
his pulpit stood in which he preached
for twenty-seven years. He ordained
as elders John Dinsmoor, Robert
Park, John Anderson. William Grecrw,
Samuel Morrison, Robert Dinsmoor
(the "Rustic Bard"), and Alexan-
der McCoy.
A new church was built at the cen-
tre of the town in 1798. Rev. Sam-
uel Harris was ordained over the
church October 9, 1805, and con-
tinued as pastor till failing health
caused him to be dismissed in 1826.
He resided in town till his death,
September 6, 1848, in the 74th year
of his age. He married, April 17,
1798, Ruth Pratt, born August 29,
1779, who died March 22, 1869.
Their son, William C. Harris, is a
prominent citizen of Windham. The
252
Windham, N. H.
ministry of Mr. Harris was a success-
ful one. David Gregg, James Da-
vidson. William Davidson, John Da-
vidson, Jesse Anderson, Samuel Da-
vidson, J. P. Johnson, Eleazer Bar-
rett, James W. Perkins, Jacob E.
Evans, and David McCleary were
made elders.
Rev. Calvin Cutler was installed
over the church on April 9, 1828,
where he remained till his death Feb-
ruary 17, 1844. He was born at
Guildhall, Vermont, October 10, 1791.
He was graduated at Dartmouth col-
lege in 1819, at Theological seminary
at Andover in 1823. During his
ministry in 1834 he preached in the
old house now used as the town-
house. The latter has at different
times been occupied for preaching by
the Methodists and Unitarians. The
eldership was increased by the addi-
tion of Samuel Anderson, Jacob Har-
ris, Silas Moore; David Campbell,
and Jonathan Cochran, in 1833 ;
in 1843, Theodore Dinsmoor, Joseph
Park, Benjamin Blanchai-d, David
A. Davidson, and Rei Hills. One
hundred and fifty-eight persons uni-
ted with the church between 1830
and 1844. INIr. Cutler possessed a
great deal of intellectual strength and
vigor. He married, .lune 3, 1824,
Rhoda Little, of Boscawen, xS. H.,
who died August 15, 1852. Their
sous aie Evart Cutler of New Haven,
Connecticut, Rev. Charles Cutler of
Burton, Ohio, and Rev. Carr(jll Cut-
ler, I). I).. President of Western Re-
serve College, Cleveland, Ohio.
In 1845 Rev. Loren Thayer was
ordained with a salary of $500. He
continued with his people till his
death. For more than twenty years
he was pastor. In feeble health, he
was dismissed April 25. 1866. and
died of consumption September 19,
1869, at the age of fifty-four years.
He was thrice married, his last wife
])eing Elizabeth C. Farley, a refined
and cultivated lady, who became
closely identified with the interests
of this people. She died March 4,
1878. Mr. Thayer's ministry was an
eminently successful one, and his
memory, with that of his beloved wife,
is tenderly cherished. Samuel Camp-
bell was made an elder.
Rev. Joseph Lanman was installed
June 2, 1868. A parsonage was
built that year costing over S3, 000.
He was dismissed February 6, 1872,
and now resides at Taylor's Falls,
Minnesota.
Rev. Charles Packard was installed
April 29, 1873, at a salary of §800
and the use of the parsonage. The
church was remodelled in 1874, and re-
dedicated December 29, 1874. The
outlay was f;2600. William C. Har-
ris, Horace Anderson, and William
D. Cochran became elders of the
church, December 26, 1878. Mr.
Packard was born in Brookfield,
Maine, October 14, 1818 ; graduated
at Bowdoin college in 1842, at Ban-
gor seminary in 1845. As a pastor
he was faithful, as a friend he was
true, as a citizen he always had the
interest of society in view, and was
always upon the right side. He [)er-
formed his pastoral duties till Janu-
ary 29, 1881, when the disease which
had been upon him culminated in en-
tire prostration, and he died Febru-
ary 20, 1881, and is buried in Farm-
ington, Maine. He man-ied, in Nor-
way, INIaine, Hannah Holt, who re-
sides with their children in Farming-
ton, Maine.
77/ o m as Fo rsyt/i .
253
Rev. Joseph S. Cogswell, the pies- in 1817. iiiid has always been in a
ent pastor, was bom in Boscawen, highly tiourishing condition, and the
N. H., October 21), 1836 ; was in- larger part of tiie congregation are
stalled December 21, 1881, with members. Connected with it is a
pleasing prospects. valuable and largely patronized libra-
The Sundav-school was organized rv of 500 volumes.
THOMAS FORSYTH, SIEUR DE FRONSAC.
By Augustin Bell, A. M.
Thomas Forsyth was born in Deer- cret dii)l()matic service of the French
ing, Hillsborough county, New Hamp- Princes (179.')), who were suffering
shire, September 1, 1776. His father exile. He afterwards became a cap-
was Captain William Forsyth (see tain in the Royalist Emegres, and
" Forsyth Family " in Vol. VIII, page served throughout the monotonous
251, of the Granite Monthly), and marches of that forlorn hope of exiled
his motlier was Jane, daughter of royalty in Germany and along the
James Wilson, of Chester, wlio was Rhine. As an officer in the foreign
at one time surveyor of the highways guard he then entered the service of
of Chester. Col. Robert Wilson, as Russia (1800), but abandoned the
recorded in the article referred to, life of peril and hardship through
was not the father of Jane, but was which he was passing to return to
of the same family (Chase's History America in 1802. He had been dec-
of Chester). Thomas Forsyth was orated with the Order of St. Louis
sent while quite young to the north of for services rendered in the diplomatic
Ireland in company with his older and military departments under the
brother Robert, who afterwards enter- French Princes, and had published a
ed the British army, and retired in jjolitical pamphlet entitled '•"La Di-
1802 as major of the 60tli Royal j)lo7natie cfune Frontiere." as Thomas
Rifles, or 60th Foot, as they were Forsytli, Sieur de Fronsac, under
then called. The county seat of the which name also he was decorated
family was then in Hillsborough conn- with the Order of St. Louis, and serv-
ty, province of Leister, Ireland, Hills- ed in the Emegres and in Russia,
borough county, New Hami)shire, be- The town of Forsath, or J'orsyth,
ing named after that of Ireland. twenty miles from Bordeaux, on the
Before he was twenty years of age Dordoyne, in France, from wliich, as
an adventurous spirit took Thomas counts, the family liad derived its
into France, where the troublous state name, had been changed to Fronsac,
of affairs was excited by the fumes of after it had suffered by the invasion
revolution. Sympathizing with the of the Earl of Derby, from England,
royalist party and anxious for distinc- in the 14th century ; and this was the
tiou, he, through the friendship and reason that Thomas Forsyth took the
introduction of Henri, Marquis de name of Fronsac to his own, accord-
Costa, obtained a position in the se- ing to a custom among the French
254
Unread.
nobility, and it was as Sieur de Fron-
sac that he was recognized in France.
He was the only person born in New
Hampshire who has ever received the
decoration of the Order of St. Louis,
which is one of the highest in Eu-
rope.
When he returned to America in
1802 he settled in Savannah, Ga.,
where he remained for about two
years. He then finally located at
Portland, Me., in which place he en-
tered into the West India trade, estab-
lishing his store and office on Ingra-
ham's wharf. He had a moderate
interest in shipping and landed prop-
erty. He was junior steward of the
Ancient Landmark Lodge of Free
Masons in Portland. As a performer
on the violincello he had, perhaps,
although an amateur, no equal in
Maine, while his general knowledge
of music was complete in other de-
partments.
He married, in 1809, Sallie, daugh-
ter of John Pray, formerly of Savan-
nah, Ga., who had been a captain in
the colonial navy of Georgia in the
Revolution, and the naval commis-
sioner for that commonwealth. Capt.
Prav was an Irish refueee, who had
married Mary, daughter of Major
Joshua Hamilton, the son of Henry
Hamilton, M. P. for County Donegal,
and sou of Lieut. Gen. Sir Gustavus
Hamilton, 1st Viscount Boyne, Vice-
Admiral of Ulster, Privy Councillor
of Great Britain, etc. (See Burke's
Peerage.)
Thomas Forsyth left a family of
six children at the time of his death,
Dec. 21, 1849, at Portland. One
other, a son, had died before him in
Texas.
He was a man of refined tastes and
high ability, an honor to the state in
which he was born, reverenced by his
children, the head of his family, ac-
knowledged as a patron of the poor,
to whom he dispensed liberally, and
a man loving the good and the meri-
torious. His faith in republics was
wanting, but he recognized the ties
which bound him to his native land,
and no doubt through their influence
saw the greatest possibility laid out
before her. Those who knew him
recognized a Christian gentleman.
UNREAD.
By Alice Freese Durgin.
As the dull dav faded into murkv nio;ht.
Wearily from out the gloom she rose, and stept
Towards the hearth, where dying embers kept
Their feint of life, from which all life had fled.
"How frail thou wert ! How empty, and how mean," she said,
"Thou s(>eu)est, now thou liest ended,
Poor hapless life ! No fond delight blended
With the heavy pain, to make one shadow bright."
What was the sound that falling on her brokenly,
As blossoms lightly blown from off a tree,
Woke faintest memories of some calm, silver light.
Shining in young summer's long remembered night?
Trembling as the vision broke, she prayed with bowed head, —
"Dear Life ! I thank Thee for the page unread."
THE
RANITE neNTHLY.
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
Tfevoted to Literature, "Biography, History, and State Progress.
Vol. X.
AUGUST, 1887.
No. 8.
HON. ALVIN BURLEIGH.
The Plymouth Record, in advocat-
iiia: the choice of Mr. Burleigh for
speaker of the New Hampshire house
of representatives, said, —
"With all due respect to the can-
didates other localities have to offer,
we have positive convictions that
Grafton county can furnish a speaker
for the next house of representatives
who will not only prove most accept-
able to the Republican party and the
public generally, but one who is ad-
mirably equipped for the position by
reason of his high personal character,
his legal education, his familiarity
with the law and judicial decisions of
the state, and the rules of parliament-
ary practice. We mean, of course,
our representative, Alvin Burleigh.
The approaching session of the legis-
lature will be one of interest to the
Republican party, not only because
the choice of United States senator is
to be made, but because much de-
pends upon the manner in which the
contest is waged and determined. It
is of the greatest importance that
fairness and harmony shall be marked
features of the coming meeting, in
order that there may be hearty coop-
eration and united organization for
the campaign of 1888.
"The choice of speaker should be
regulated by the especial needs of the
occasion, and it must be apparent to
all that the interests of the party and
the state demand for this position a
man who, first of all, is fitted for the
place ; and, second, one who is abso-
lutely free from all entangling alli-
ances and pledges, and can therefore
exercise the powers and perform the
duties of the office with the utmost
impartialit}', without fear or favor,
and with that freedom and confidence
natural to one thoroughly acquainted
with parliamentary rules, and accus-
tomed to the methods of judicial pro-
cedure."
Before the assembling of the legis-
lature (June, 1887) it was early man-
fest that Mr. Burleigh was the leading
candidate for speaker, and at the
Republican caucus he received 118
256
Hon. Alvin Biirlcisrh.
votes ; John McLane, of Milford, re-
ceived 32 votes ; and John J. Bell, of
Exeter, received 8 votes. The pre-
diction as to his eminent fitness for
the place has been verified by his im-
partial course during the time the
legislature has been in session.
Hon. Alvin Burleigh was born at
Plymouth, December 19, 1842, and is
therefore forty-four years old. He
is entirely a self-made man, having
taken care of himself ever since he
was fifteen years of age. At that
time he commenced working on a
farm, and received as wages nine
dollars a month. He then took up
the tanners' trade, and learned it be-
fore the civil war broke out. When
that began, although but nineteen
years of age, he enlisted in company
B, 15th regiment (at the same time
with Senator Blair), and served in
that regiment every day until it was
disbanded. He was with the expedi-
tion of General Banks on the Missis-
sippi, and participated in the siege
and capture of Fort Hudson in 1863.
Since the war Mr. Burleigh has been
for some years an active member of
the Grand Array of the Republic.
He was judge advocate of the de|)art-
ment of New Hampshire during the
first year that Hon. M. A. Haynes
was commander, and he is now com-
mander of Penniman Post of Ply-
mouth, and is on Department Com-
mander O. C. Wyatt's staff for the
current year.
After an honorable discharge from
the army he resumed his trade, and
became foreman of Ward & MeQues-
ten's tannery. In 1865 he entered
Kimball Union Academy, at Meriden,
K. H., and was graduated tliere in
1867. 'He entered Dartmouth col-
lege the same year, and was gradu-
ated in the class of 1871. He paid
his way through college by working
at his trade at intervals, and teaching
during vacations and a part of winter
terms. In 1872, the year after leav-
ing college, he taught the high school
at Woodstock, Vt. He studied law
with Hon. H. W. Blair, and was ad-
mitted to the bar in 1874, and in 1875
formed a law partnership with Mr.
Blair, which was continued until 1879,
when Mr. Blair retired and George
H. Adams came in, and the present
firm of Burleigh & Adams was estab-
lished. Mr. Burleigh has had an ex-
tensive and successful law practice
in the state and United States courts,
and his success is due to the fact that
he is a sound and well read lawyer,
and possesses good common-sense and
practical judgment. In manner he
is calm, fair, and candid. He is well
informed on all public questions, and
has a wide acquaintance with men
and the politics of New Hampshii'e.
In the government of iniblic assem-
blies he has had considerable experi-
ence, and shows himself thoroughly
informed in parliamentary law, and
gifted with that peculiar tact so nec-
essary at times to control legislative
bodies.
Mr. Burleigh has been a member of
the board of education of Plymouth
since its organization, treasurer of
the board until his election to the
speakership, and at present is its
president. He is a trustee of the
State Normal School. Personally he
is not only a consistent advocate of
temperance, but a teetotaler, evincing
his interest in the cause by serving as
president of a local temperance or-
ganization several terms, and refusing
The Northern Volunteers.
257
all retainers frora violators of tem-
perance laws. In such cases he is
generally found on the side of the
prosecution.
In Masonry Mr. Hurleigh is a mem-
ber of the Olive Branch lodge, — for
six years in succession the master of
the lodge ; a member of the Omega
Council and the Pemigewasset Chap-
ter, of Plymouth, and of the St.
Gerard Conimandery, of Littleton.
He is one of the Knights of Honor,
and an attendant at the Methodist
church, of which he is trustee.
He was married January 14, 1873,
to Elvira, daughter of 'Squire David
and Margaret (Taylor) Page, and
sister of Samuel T. Page, Esq., of
Haverhill. Their union has been
blessed by two children, — Alvin Page
Burleigh, born March 20, 1875, and
David Paul Burleigh, born March 20.
1878. His motiier, before her mar-
riage, was Sally Whipple, a cousin to
Col. Thomas J. Whipple, of Laconia.
His grandfather served during the
Revolution, whih' witii him in the
Union army served his three brothers,
one of whom died from wounds re-
ceived at the battle of Gettvsburg.
Mr. Burleigh enjoys the confidence
and friendship of the leaders of the
Republican party throughout the
state, and has the respect of '' onr
friends, the enemy." As a public
speaker he is effective, having a fine
voice, and is logical in his arguments.
He is in the prime of manhood, and
his friends reasonably look forward
to his further elevation to posts of
honor and emolument.
THE NORTHERN VOLUNTEERS.— Concluded.
By Col. T. J. Livekmore.
A gallant staff captain of the second
corps was known among the soldiers
as the "Jack of Diamonds," by rea-
son of his long face, pointed chin,
arched eyebrows, and long, drooping
red moustache. Old Gen. Sumner,
of deep voice and headstrong cour-
age, was affectionately entitled the
"Big Bull of Bashan." The erect
and robust form of Gen. Hancock,
and his partiality for the front in
battle, gave him the title of "■ Kins:
Pin " with his admiring soldiers.
The day of sack and rapine has
gone by among civilized nations, and
it was not to be expected that Amer-
ican soldiers would be guilty of them.
It is true tliat isolated houses which
had l)een abandoned were often
burned by sti'agglers, but it was sel-
dom that this appeared to have been
done deliberately. At Fredericks-
burg, too, some of the houses were
emptied into the street, but this
seemed to lie done in bear play, and
it was doubtless incited by the fact
that tiie city had been deserted by the
residents, and the houses had been
used as cover for the enemy to fire
from. With these exceptions, tliere
was no considerable destruction of
houses except under orders, and al-
though cities were often taken by
siege or assault, as at Petersburg,
258
The Northern Volunteers.
Fredericksburg, Atlanta, Columbia,
Richmond, New Orleans, Savannah,
and Mobile, no instance of general
incendiarism, sack, drunken riot, or
violence to women occurred.
Our soldiers, orders to the contrary
or not, would lay hands on every-
thing eatable. The temptation to
eke out or vary their bill of fare was
too great for them to resist. It was
said of some parts of the country
which had been marched over repeat-
edly, that a crow could not fly over
them without carrying his rations.
"When we marched through the coun-
try east of the Rappahannock in 1863,
on the way to Gettysburg, I came
into camp with my company from
picket duty one night, and when I
went to the colonel to report our
arrival, I smelt the savory fumes of
fresh pork over the colonel's camp-
fire. My surprise at detecting so un-
usual a thing in that exhausted region
was apparent, and the colonel, by
way of explanation, said, " Captain,
the last pig of the Rappahannock has
just come in and surrendered him-
self."
CONDUCT IN THE PRESENCE OF THE
ENEMY.
In the leffort to arrive at a judg-
ment of the conduct of the volunteers
in the presence of the enemy, we
naturally turn to the examples af-
forded us in the great wars of modern
Europe for a standard of comparison.
But wc at once find ourselves at a
loss for this standard of comparison
in one very important service which
has not held a i)rominent place in
these European wars.
The deep veil of sunless forest
which covered so much of the country
in which we fought gave such a chance
for concealment, that, whether the
line of battle was moving forward or
was at rest, it was needful to cover
its front at a long reach ahead with a
line of pickets or skirmishers. The
men in this line would l>e about five
paces apart, so that, while they were
not close enough together to suffer
great loss from a sudden fire, they
suflflced to detect the enemy's advance
in time to get ready for him, or to
draw his fire, so as to forewarn our
advancing Hue of his presence. This
necessity does not exist in a country
where the opposing lines are seen by
each other at long distances, as has
been the case on most fields in the wars
of modern P^urope. It was in such ser-
vice as this that the intelligence and
self-reliance of the American volun-
teer were of the greatest value.
The line of skirmishers, or pickets,
under a brigade officer, was some-
times a mile long. The trees and
undergrowth often hid the soldier
from his neighbor and from the view
of his officers, and the commanding
officer had to trust to his hearing and
militai-y instinct as much as to siglit
to tell him how his men were acting.
The moral support of the touch of
shoulder to shoulder was absent, and
the soul and heart of the men had to
keep them up without the encourage-
ment or restraint which the presence
of the officers gives in line of battle.
In spite of the weakness of the for-
mation, the skirmish line more than
once refused to retire under the fire
of a line of battle, and came out vic-
torious. Such an instance was seen
at Chancellorsville, w^here the skir-
mish line of Hancock's division, un-
der the gallant Miles, beat back the
The No7'thern Volunteers.
259
attack of McLaw's division, and again
at Petersl)urg, where, in the assault
of June 15, 1864, a line of formida-
ble works was carried by the skirmish
line of Gen. W. F. Smith's corps.
The picket line at night in tlie dark
recesses of the Southern forests was
a great trial of the morale of the sol-
dier. Then silence itself had its
alarms. A private soldier of 1861
wrote these lines, which, whatever
their poetic merit may be, well ex-
press what many a soldier has felt on
his solitary post :
"Alas! the weary hours pass slow;
The night is very dark and still.
And in the marshes far below
I hear the bearded whip-poor-will.
I scarce can sec a yard ahead ;
My ears are strained to catch each sound ;
I hear the leaves about me shed,
And the springs bubbling through the ground.
"Along the beaten patli I pace
Where white scraps mark my sentry's track;
In formless shrubs I seem to trace
The foeman's form with bending back.
I think I see him crouching low;
I stop and list — I stoop and peer —
Until the neighboring hillocks grow
To groups of soldiers, far and near.
" With ready piece I A'ait and watch
Until my eyes, familiar grown,
Detect each harmless earthen notch.
And turn guerillas into stone.
And then, amid the lonely gloom,
Beneath the tall old chestnut-trees ,
My silent marches I resume,
And think of other times than these."
In front of Richmond, in 1862, the
army, then new to this phase of war,
maintained its picket line for a month
in the woods and thickets, within rifle
shot, and in places within pistol shot,
of the enemy's pickets. The crack
of rifle was heard day and night, and
the scattering shots often swelled
into a rolling fusilade, to be followed
by the roar of shells whirling over
the crouching pickets. The time was
full of alarms. Unused to reading
the signs of war, for a long time every
soldier on picket was tense with the
feeling that each outburst of arms
might be the signal for an attack by
the enemy. The keenest vigilance
possessed every man. Without the
element of strong and self-reliant
character in the soldier, the picket
line at this time would have been the
source of constant alarm to the arm}'.
But, in fact, the conduct of the troops
on picket was so admirable that a
sense of security possessed the army
behind the earthworks that was not
to be disturbed by anything short of
seeing the pickets coming in in re-
treat, which was a rare occurrence.
Concerning the conduct of the vol-
unteers in battle, the Comte de Paris,
a very friendlv writer, sa^'s, that
while they showed much personal
bravery and skill in firing, these qual-
ities alone cannot give to a body of
troops "• that collective courage which
inspires every man with the same
spirit, and enables it to undertake
with unanimity of purpose " what is
impossible for the individual, and
that "■this distinctive trait of well
trained armies which constitutes their
superiority is the result of long hab-
its of discipline and the influence of
old and experienced regimental or-
ganizations."
He also says that it took our sol-
diers " a long time to learn that upon
ground where fighting had to be done
at short distances, it is almost less
dangerous to rush upon the enemy
than to be decimated by his fire while
standing still." But he says " thev
went under fire more resolutely the
second time than the first."
Gen. de Chanal writes as follows :
"It is difficult to compare the Amer-
26o
The Northern Volunteers.
ican soldier with any of the soldiers
of the old continent. He has the
merits of some, and faults the most
opposite of others. Untiring on the
march, resigned amid the greatest
sufferings, he attacks resolutely, but
coldly. The combat, which for him
is not sustained by the sharp peals of
trumpet or the rhythmic roll of drum,
has something sombre and sinister.
If he believes his efforts useless, he
halts ; neither orders nor exhortations
can make him go forward. Once en-
gaged, he is tenacious even to obsti-
nacy, even to disobedience : he neither
wishes nor knows how to retreat, and
thousands of men perish where an
order to retreat executed with docility
would limit the sacrifice to hundreds.
In the long file of ambulances which
bear off the wounded, all bleeding,
whom not even a dressing has re-
lieved, one hears neither complaints
nor groans. His death is always
stoical. He will ask of you a little
water or to place him in an easier po-
sition, and he waits patiently. . . .
And, notwithstanding he is so cold in
appearance, he is susceptible of im-
pulse."
To illustrate this, he tells two
anecdotes. In one, Gen. Humphreys'
troops, reluctant to go forward, see
the general and his son leave them
and march v/ith slow step alone
toward the enemy, when the whole
line, impelled by this heroic example,
sweep forward to the combat. In the
other, Gen. Meade breaks his sword
upon the heads of his soldiers, whose
retreat he cannot stop, and they after-
ward present him with a new sword,
inscribed with the date and |)lace of
this occurrence. The view which
Gen. de Chanal takes of us is dra-
matic to some extent. His memory
has been impressed with the extraor-
dinary incidents of our war to such a
degree as to obscure the ordinary
conduct of our soldiers in some re-
spects. He tells rather what they
were capable of than what they ordi-
narily did.
Col. Chesne3% an eminent English
military authority, says that the blun-
ders and want of coherence of our
early volunteers were amply atoned
for by the stubborn courage after-
ward displayed, and that " if a man's
claims to be regarded as a veteran
are to be measured by the amount of
actual fighting he has gone through,
the most seasoned soldiers of Europe
are but as conscripts compared with
the survivors of our war ; and the fol-
lowing passage from his book is a
generous tribute from a l^ritish sol-
dier. He says, — " If the organiza-
tion and discipline of their improvised
troops were inferior, the actual fight-
ing was, in fact, more stubborn, for
no European forces have experienced
the amount of resistance in combat
which North and South opposed to
each other. Neither was the fre-
quently indecisive result of the great
battles fought in America any proof
that they formed exceptions to the
ordinary rules of military science.
These actions were so inconclusive,
first from deficiency in cavalry, and
next because the beaten side would
not break up. The American sol-
diery, in thus refusing to yield to
panic when losing the day, retiring
in good order and keeping a good
front to the victorious enemy, dis-
played, let us believe, an inherited
quality. In order to pursue, there
must be some one to run awav, and,
The Northern Volunteers.
261
to the credit of the Americans, the
ordinary conditions of European war-
fare in this respect were usually
absent from the great battles fought
across the Atlantic. "
It is true, as said by the French
writer before quoted, that neither
trumpet nor drum was used to incite
our men to combat. Martial music
stirred them as well as the soldiers of
other countries, but by common im-
pulse our commanding officers left
their musicians behind to care for the
wounded. It did not seem needful
to expose the lives of these non-com-
batants merel}' to render battle more
cheerful. There was no call to so
quicken the courage of men who al-
ready had the will to do their duty.
To the examples of impulse in our
soldiers before mentioned, a more
noteworthy one may be added. It is
the facing about of the fugitives to
follow Sheridan to the front on his
famous ride from Winchester. The
general says in his report, — ''The
whole army had been driven back in
confusion, . . . a very large por-
tion of the infantry not even pre-
serving a company organization," and
ten miles to the rear as he was flying
to the front, he says "the head of
the fugitives appeared in sight, trains
and men coming to the rear with
appalling rapidity." He modestly
relates the result of his arrival in
these words : "I am hap{)y to say
that hundreds of the men, who on
reflection found they had not done
themselves justice, came back with
cheers."
The fact is, that a steady stream of
fuofitives — both officers and men — was
pouring to the rear, and the efforts of
all other officers to stop it were una-
vailing. When the impetuous Sheridan,
the flaming incarnation of war, came
rushing by, eager to reach the front
and face the foe, he cried to his men
as he rode on, to turn back and fol-
low him, and, all at once, the tide
turned, and thousands of men. taking
new heart, streamed to the front to
join the ranks. The lines restored,
the advance was ordered, the enemy
were routed, and the campaign was
ended in victory. It is not to be for-
gotten that half the army had re-
treated in good order, and had halted
to resist the further advance of the
enemy ; but yet here was a veritable
instance of a great defeat turned into
a greater victory through the enthusi-
asm excited by one man, and his
boundless courage and energy and
superlative militar}' skill.
At the beginning of the war we de-
sired to find a Napoleon to lead us,
and, with implicit confidence in our
national destiny, we took it as a
matter of course that he would appear
at once. The soldiers fondly be-
lieved they had found him in McClel-
lan, and his handsome face, soldierly
carriage, and winning manners con-
firmed their desire to raise him to the
ideal rank, and he was cheered where-
ever he appeared.
Then Burnside, handsomer still and
more affable even than McClellan,
was cheered in his turn.
The clear-eyed, erect, soldierly, and
impetuous Hooker excited equal en-
thusiasm. But with Hooker there
was the end of crowning the com-
mander of the army with laurel in
advance. The impotent conclusion
of McClellan's campaigns, the useless
slaughter at Fredericksburg under
Burnside, and the feeble influence of
262
The Northern Volunteers.
mere personal valor on the fortunes
of an army as manifested in Hooker,
had taught the thinking bayonets that
cheers ought not to be given on trust.
Thenceforward war was looked upon
as a business, in which a debt and
credit account was to be kept with
the commander, and the men were in
the habit of looking below mere per-
sonal appearance or manner in esti-
mating them.
At Antietam a general lingered
under shelter while his brigade swept
forward under fire. The hard fight-
ing old division general advancing,
sword in hand, with the front line,
under a storm of bullets, when within
a few yards of the enemy, perceived
the absence of the brigadier. He
cried out in a great voice above the
roar of battle, "Where's Gen. .?"
A score of soldiers, turning their
faces toward him as they marched,
shouted from the ranks, " Behind the
hay-stack." The old general roared
out an indignant curse, and passed on
to meet his death.
If it is true that the American sol-
dier was not a creature of impulse, it
is also true that it was needless to
arouse martial ardor in him in the
name of glory or to the beat of mar-
tial music. He did not fight for
glory, and he did not love the trade
of war, but his good name was his
stake, and he had enlisted for the
war to keep this Union whole ; and
for this he faced death, sometimes
seriously, sometimes cheerily, often
ai'dently, always resolutely.
No finer instance of the calm deter-
mination to face death, due to intelli-
gent patriotism, was ever seen than
at Mine Run, November 30, 1863. Six
divisions, numbering over 20,000 men,
had arrived on the bank of the run at
night, and as morning drew near they
were drawn up in columns for an as-
sault upon the enemy's works in front
of them. These works were supposed
to be weak and thinly manned, but as
the light dawned our soldiers saw a
few hundred yards ahead a formid-
able line of breastworks surmounting
a crest and bristling with cannon.
Men were visible everywhere, and the
generals of the watchful host were
riding to and fro as if preparing to
receive the assault. The skirmishers
of the two armies were at rest within
a few yards of each other upon the
unobstructed slope that intervened.
They did not fire at each other, but
waited for the mighty conflict which
impended. Our men were veterans
of many battles, not a few of them
had been present at Fredericksburg
the year before, where an assault no
more hopeless than this which they
now prepared for had been followed
by the recoil of our array, leaving
many to perish in the freezing night
of a winter's day like that which was
now dawning.
They had now piled their knapsacks
for freedom in the charge, and as
Gen. Warren rode down the line these
resolute sons of the North were seen
writing their names on slips and pin-
ning them on their breasts. This
was that their bodies might be recog-
nized on the field of battle ! These
were soldiers whom it was a high
privilege to serve with. Thanks to
the unselfish spirit of Gen. Warren,
this hopeless assault was not made.
The advantage of rushing on the
enemy where the fighting had been
done at short range, which the Comte
de Paris savs our volunteers had to
The JVorthern Volunteers.
263
learn, was perceived by them at an
early day, and they showed their
willingness to rush upon works in
1862 at Fort Donelson, Williamsburg,
and Yorktown. Gen. Smitli's Ver-
raonters forced the passage of War-
wick's creek waist-deep in water, and
carried the enemy's works, and the
1st Massachusetts charged 800 yards
under fire, and captured a field work
as early as April, 18G2, at Yorktown.
At Fredericksburg our divisions made
a succession of determined and des-
perate charges. They followed one
after the other from morning till
night. We lost over 7,000 killed and
wounded in these charges. They did
not fail from reluctance to go for-
ward. The deadly fire from the
triple lines behind the wall in our
front struck down so many that by
the time the men were within assault-
ing distance there were not enough
left to close the ranks for the assault.
But the lines did not stop to deliver
their fire until their formation was
destroyed by their losses. Their dead
were found within twenty-five yards
of the enemy's line.
The critic who attempts to weigh
the conduct of our volunteers by the
amount of fighting at close quarters,
as compared with that in former wars,
is in danger of being misled, because
the conditions have been changed so
much bv the increase of the range
and efficiency of arms.
If we compare our battles with
those of the Franco-German war of
1870, we shall see that our men do
not suffer by it. In the great battle
of Gravelotte, the village of St. Marie
aux Chenes was taken from the
French by an attack on two sides.
On account of the absence of cover.
and the long range of the French
Chassepot rifles, the Jagers of the
Saxon Guards, who made the attack
on one side, had to advance in open
skirmish order, and, although this
order afforded a poor mark to the
French riflemen, yet the historians
say the Jagers had to go forward
"in a series of rushes of about two
hundred yards each, and, throwing
themselves flat on the ground, to re-
commence their fire," and the last
rush was deferred until the French
evacuated the village. In this same
battle, the village of St. Privat was
taken by the Germans. It stood at
the top of a slope like that which
engineers make in front of a fort
aud term the glacis, about two miles
long, and was surrounded by a wall
consisting mainly of massive stone
houses, and had been fortified by the
French for a general support of their
whole right wing. Eighteen thousand
of the Prussian Guards, the best
trained soldiers of the German em-
pire, attempted to carry the village
by advancing up the slope about the
same distance that our troops marched
under fire at Fredericksburg, The
very friendly historians from whom
this account is derived say that the
commander of the assaulting force,
on account of its great losses, gave
orders to suspend the attack, while
his skirmishers were yet 400 paces
from the French, to await a flank
attack by the Saxons, without which,
these historians say, "it was impos-
sible to carry out the last decisive
attack."
The Prussian Guards lost 8,000
out of 25,000 to 30,000 in this bat-
tle — twenty-seven to thirty-two per
cent. At Fredericksburg, December
264
The Northern Volunteers.
13, 1862, Hancock's division ad-
vanced over open ground in the face
of the most destructive storm of can-
non shots and bullets, and left its
dead within twenty-five vards of the
enemy's line. It lost 2,169 out of its
5,000 men — over forty-three per cent.
The greatest loss of any German bat-
talion of 1,000 men at Gravelotte
was fifty per cent. Eight of Han-
cock's regiments, numbering 2,548
men, lost 1,324 — nearly fifty-two per
cent. — at Fredericksburg. On the
3d of May, 1863, Sedgwick's division
carried this same position at F'reder-
icksburg by an assault impetuous
enough to satisfy the most exacting
military critic.
The assault is necessary where a
fortified position is to be taken in
battle, but with the disappearance of
the musket of slow fire and short
range such tactics become foolhardy
where an attack is to be made on
troops of good morale in open ground.
To rush toward such a line while it
fires on the assaulting line is to court
destruction. The attacking party
must send bullet for bullet Pickett's
charge at Gettysburg showed this.
To pursue the comparison of our
troops with the Germans, we read
that at Saarbrticken-Forbach the
French, in their advance against the
Prussians, began firing with their
small arms at 1,500 paces, and kept
it up to within 1,000 paces ; and the
admiring historians say, — " But each
of these attacks was defeated by the
incomparable steadiness and bravery
of the Prussian infantry and artillery,
and the wonderfully precise fire of
the flanking batteries." If we did
not know that the Prussian troops
could stand more than this, we should
get a pretty low opinion of them from
such praise. In Virginia an officer
who opened fire with small arms at
500 yards would hare been thought
light-headed, and our army officers
to-day would look upon fire at more
than that distance as wasted.
It is true that the Cbassepot of
1870 carried farther than the Spring-
field rifle of 1861, but the point blank
range of the former was only 300
yards, while that of the latter was
200 yards. Point blank range is that
at which the rifle barrel points at the
mark. At any longer range the rifle
must point upward. To reach 1,500
yards, as the French tried to do,
would require the rifle barrels to point
toward the stars. Difference in arms,
country, and adversaries renders abso-
lute comparisons of the conduct of
soldiers of different nations very diffi-
cult. But the ratio of killed and
wounded in a series of battles affords
a comparison which is a good test of
character, because in the long run it
is the killing and wounding that most
tries the manhood and soldiership of
an army. The following is a com-
parison of these ratios in our army
and the German army in the Franco-
German war of 1870, the greatest of
modern times, excepting ours :
Kumber Killed and Per
Battles. Eiifraged. Wounded. Cent.
Viouvllle 80,000 16,500 20
Gravelotte 146,000 20,000 14
AVorth 90,000 8,000 9
Sedan 120,000 10.000 8
1861-5.
Gettv.«buig 82.('00 16,534 20
Stone's Kiver 43,400 8,798 20
Chiekanianca 55,000 11,000 20
Fredeiicksburg 80,000 12.358 15
Sluloli 61,000 9,000 15
Wilderness 100,000 15.000 15
Antietam 87,000 12.000 14
Chanccllorsville 120.000 17,000 14
Cold Harbor lOn.OOO 13.000 13
Fair Oaks 60,000 5,000 8
If asked to name the most promi-
nent traits of the Northern volunteers
The Northern Volunteers.
265
ill battle, I should not name impetu-
osity, because, whether it was due to
the caution of our generals or the
coldness of our temperament, this
quality was not conspicuous in our
actions ; but I should say steadfast-
ness and tenacity. Their steadfast-
ness was proven times without num-
ber in the battles fought in the
obscurity of the Southern forests.
The general, unable to see either the
enemy or his own men, had to depend
upon the ranks to stay where he
placed them until the din of arms
could guide him to the point of at-
tack. The men, in their turn, had
to meet an unseen foe, and fight the
battle upon the faith that their flanks
were covered, and that aid would
come when needed. This trait averted
panics. No surprise, no flight of any
part of the army, ever brought on a
general rout.
At White Oak Swamp, in June, 1862,
20,000 of our men, pursuing the
march in retreat which had been or-
dered by McClellan, crossed the bridge
in the night, and threw themselves
down upon the plain above to sleep
after a wearv nio;ht march. Contrary
to all military rules, they were massed
thickly, with no attempt at forming a
line of battle to face the enemy who
was following. The men gave them-
selves no thought as to whether their
generals had reason for halting them
in the confused order in which they
lay, but fell asleep behind their stacks
of arms. The fiery Jackson, fresh
from the victory at Gaines Mill, came
silently to the bluff on the other side
of the swamp, and, without warning,
opened fire upon the sleeping host
with twenty-eight cannon. The men,
awakened by the roar of cannon and
the explosion of shells amid them,
sprang into the ranks and seized their
guns, and waited for the command of
their officers. Solid shot tore through-
the mass, and bursting shells buried
their deadly fragments everywhere.
The uproar was appalling, and, to
provoke disorder, a wild flight of
pontoon and l)aggage teams swept
across the plain, trampling down
everything before them. But at the
command, the many crowded columns
swiftly deployed into lines, facing
the enemy's skirmishers, made ready
to meet his advance ; batteries whirled
to the front and opened fire, and
when Jackson, eager to press for-
ward, attempted to push his infantry
against us, he found, instead of a
disordered mass demoralized by the
iron hail from his batteries, a succes-
sion of well ordered lines of battle,
the first of which alone was sufficient
to repel his attack. It was steadfast-
ness of the most exalted tvpe that
preserved our men from panic that
day.
At Chancellors ville the 11th corps
was routed as evening came on, and
thousands streamed back to, and'
even through, the other lines ; but
these lines were undisturbed, and
Berry's division advanced right into
the gap left by the beaten corps and
into the darkness of the night which
had come on, and, moving steadily
on against their invisible foe, opened
fire upon them with a regular and
thundering roll of musketry which
lighted the field of battle like a sheet
of lightning, and stopped the onset
of the enemy.
At Fisher's Hill, when half of
Sheridan's army was routed in his
absence, the other half kept a good
266
The Northern Volunteers.
front, retreatiug in good order from
position to position, and liolding tlie
enemy in check until Slieridan arrived,
and then went forward with their
great leader and his cavalry and
utterly routed the enemy.
At the battle of Atlanta, the divi-
sions of Smith and Leggett repulsed
the attack of Hardee from the rear
by leaping over their own breastworks
and fighting from the other side, and
then Leggett's division, inditfereut as
to the direction of the enem}', when
Cheatham attacked on the original
front, leaped back to the proper side
of their works, and beat him back.
The tenacity of our men was dis-
played wherever they assaulted earth-
works and were repulsed. In almost
every instance they seized ground in
advance of their starting-point, and
held it, instead of retiring in dis-
couragement. The mighty struo-gle
over the salient at Spottsylvania,
which lasted for twenty hours at such
close quarters that the opposing flags
were planted on the same parapets,
and no man conld live beside them,
was the most conspicuous example. of
tenacity. The length of our battles
was due to this quality. The most
of our great battles lasted two or
three days. European armies have
seldom fought the second day.
I have said that many a volunteer
realizes that he sacrificed what money
could not compensate him for ; but I
believe that there is not one of them
who would retrieve what he has lost
by diminishing what the country has
gained. They feel that they were
fortunate to have lived in the o-reat
•events of '61 to 'Go. They are proud
to have borne arms for their country
in her time of need. But it is not in
the triumph of success, or the glory
of victory, or the poor guerdon of
pensions, that they find their reward.
It is the priceless heritage of self-
government in a free land, without
danger of foreign encroachment or
entanglements, which their fathers
hauded down, and which shall de-
scend to their posterit}^ They have
no fear for the stability of our insti-
tutions. That the majority is some-
times in the wrong, that bad men are
elected to office, that men unlawfully
band themselves together to interfere
with the industries and extort un-
earned money from their fellow-citi-
zens, are but transient evils in the es-
timation of the men who witnessed
the arousal of the patient, long-suf-
fering, and tolerant spirit of this
great free people in 1861. The fore-
bodings of danger to the republic
from violence within which oppress
some men find no lodgment in the
imagination of the men who saw the
sleeping soldier awakened in 2,000,000
citizens, and stood shoulder to shoul-
der among them, and felt the mighty
impulse which moved them. They
know that the love of law and order,
the devotion to the political and per-
sonal freedom which insures the en-
joyment of life and one's own, are
inbred in this people, and are to be
born in their children. When the
last one of the great host of volun-
teers shall look back through the
glimmering vista of the past, he will
see none of these disturbances, for
they will have been forgotten, and he
will await the summons from on high
in the serene confidence that this
Union will be perpetual.
Historical Incidents.
267
IlSrCIDENTS CONNECTED WITH THE HISTORY OF LEMP-
STER, N. H.
By C. S. Spaulding.
It was about thirty years after the
granting of the town charter of Lerap-
ster to Richard Sparrow and sixty-
one others of those sturdy yeomanry
who hewed for themselves a home in
the wilderness, that Capt. Jonathan
Spalding settled in Lempster. He
was born at Westford, Mass., Aug.
23, 1770. His boyhood days were
spent on his father's farm. He ac-
quired more than a common school
education. He married Milly Ben-
nett ; she was the daughter of Capt.
James Bennett, an officer of the Rev-
olution.
Soon after his marriage, in 1791,
Mr. Spalding came to Lempster.
He employed his time farming and
clearing the forest in summer, and in
teaching the only school in town in
winter. Mr. Spalding became a
prominent and influential citizen, and
enjoyed the entire confidence of his
fellow-townsmen, and filled most of
the offices within their gift.
He also organized the town militia,
which in 1804 consisted of two com-
panies, one commanded by himself
and the other by his brother James,
who lived on a farm adjoining his ;
and it was said of them that they
were the best drilled troops in the old
sixteenth regiment of state militia,
and on training days Lempster street
resounded with martial array. The
companies vied with each other in
military tactics and discipline.
"They lived tlieir homely lives
The plain old-fashioned way,
Thanksgiving once a year,
And general muster day ;
Town-meeting in the spring—
Their holidays were few,
And very gravely kept.
When the old flag was new."
— Harper.
Mr. Spalding removed to Jericho,
Vermont, in 1819, where he died Jan.
23, 1823, leaving the homestead farm
in Lempster in possession of his son
Sewell, who was born on the 19th of
April, 1792.
When Sewell was twenty-two years
of age, during the last war with Great
Britain a requisition upon the town of
Lempster was made by Gov. Gilman
of New Hampshire for a detachment
of nine men to be sent to Portsmouth.
The militia were called out on the
twelfth day of September, 1814, and
mustered in the old meeting-house-.
The selectmen offered a bounty of one
dollar, and twelve dollars per month
wages, to volunteers ; but the men
were very reluctant to enlist, and no
one seemed to step forward. When
the fife and drum were brought
in, and they commenced marching
through the aisles of the old church,
reviving the scenes of " seventy-six,"
the required number soon joined in
line, and Sewell Spalding and his
brother James were two of the nine
men wanted to fill the quota of the
town.
" A brave old race they were
Who peopled then the land,
So man of them ashamed
Tosliow his horny hand: —
Hands that had grasped the sword
Now drew the furrow true;
For honored was the plow
When the old flag was new.
—Ibid.
268 The Founding of Dartmouth College.
THE FOUNDING OP DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.
BY HARKY STEAUNS.
Down in the heart of the " nutmeo; " state,
In Lebanon town, the books relate,
Lived pious P^leazar, whose surname was Wheelock,
Gifted with knowledge and a very large stock
•Of good common-sense, and of ever}' virtue
He had such a store that it really would hurt you
To take them all in at a single sitting,
Especially if done without intermitting ; —
And good Eleazar was from Pui-itan stock,
And his faith was firm as New Hampshire rock ;
His face in length like a coffln-box ;
His creed was the straight stiff orthodox ;
His business (if yon should wish to know)
Was to teach mankind the way they should go
In order to get to that haven of rest
"Where all good people are finally blest ;
And now and then 't was his wont to tell
Of a place that people do n't like so well,
Though a place where sinners oft go to dwell
After the sound of their funeral knell ;
A region more dark than any creole.
That now is known by the name sheol.
Now pious Eleazar, with his store of knowledge,
Conceived the idea of founding a college
To train the poor red man in stiff mathematics,
And reveal him the beauty of sterile quadratics,
And likewise to drill him in Latin and Greek,
For curbing his spirit and making him meek.
Now good father Wheelock having this intent.
Formed some sound, pious plans, and his course he bent
Towards the wilds of New Hampshire where redskins were thick.
Determined to locate, and thei'e to stick.
Well, times were hard in that ancient day
When the elder Wheelock took his northward way,
And about all the baggage in the parson's domain
Was an extra cravat and stockings — twain.
And likewise the chronicler hath cribbed it down
That good mother Wheelock had but a single gown.
Be this as it may, 'tis all the same,
And takes not a bit from their goodly fame.
The Founding of Dartmouth College. 269
After loug weeks of travel 011 the Conuecticut's strauds,
'J'hey came to the place where Hanover stands,
And pious Eleazar sunk his far-famed well,
And i)itched his tent and pre[)ared to dwell
In this region (^ forest and hill and dell,
Determined to give the redskins — well
An awful dose of Latin and Greek,
And other emetics just as antique :
For pious Eleazar was full of vim.
And was in for business, sink or swim.
Now one of the first things in cooking a rabbit,
Is to gently acquire the felicitous habit
Of catching the beast, or else 't is |)lain
The methods of cooking will be in vain.
So pious Eleazar at once turned scout,
And scoured the forests round about
In search of redskins to educate ;
And the chronicles on this point relate
That good Parson Wheelock, after a toilful tramp.
Succeeded in bringing four bucks into camp,
And started next day in the Grecian tongue,
To tell them the things Anchises had done.
But " Lo the poor" redman was not in that state
That he 'd take those vagaries into his pate,
For they thought Parson Wheelock was about to have fits,
And were frightened completely out of their wits,
When the parson scanned ton d'apomei homenos prosejjhd,
He was bade by the redskins an uncivil " good day."
They uttered a terrified yell of despair,
And that was the last of tiie scanning affair,
For they fled down old Tempe and crossed the creek,
And were marked by Eleazar •' deficient in Greek."
The further accounts of this thing agree
That they continued to cut, and were put on P. C*
From the scanning event it must not be inferred
That good Parson Wheelock was a bit deterred
P'rom his hard undertaking, for the stories relate
That he braced up their parents to '^ cooperate,''
And moistened his fist and took a new grip
On the rudder that guided the venerable ship ;
And the Ions; and shoi't of this historical tale
Was that the good ship Dartmouth continued to sail,
And never did anv rough waves overwhelm,
JFor sturdy old Wheelock stood fast at the helm.
* Partiiil course.
270
The Free High School.
THE FREE HIGH SCHOOL.
By Frances Abbott.
Of all the taxes which our citizens
annually pay for the promotion of the
common weal, there is none whose
necessity is more unquestioned than
that which goes for the support of the
public schools. The benefits of free
education have been so long the theme
of newspaper and orator, that nothing
new can be said in its praise ; yet
probably not one person in a hundred
realizes the good and the possible evil
that may be implanted in a commu-
nity by the public schools.
Our pride in the free school system
as a whole has made us neglectful of
criticizing it in particular, till, like
most flourishing exponents of Amer-
ican progress, it is bearing consider-
able defective fruit. Of late there
has been much uneasiness about edu-
cational methods and results. Charles
Francis Adams's arraignment of the
college policy is not the only expres-
sion of dissatisfaction with the un-
practical training of our institutions
of learning. The college is the goal
of the academies and fitting-schools,
the crowning difficulty in the acquire-
ment of a liberal education. But,
however large its indirect infiuence, it
is not the institution of immediate
concern to the majority of our citizens.
The public school system is of inter-
est to the whole people. No occasion
attracts larger audiences than the final
exercises of the high schools, which
every year dispense their blue ribbon-
ed diplomas, and scatter a grist of
graduates upon an unfeeling world.
It is a truism, that whatever you
wish to appear in the life of a nation,
you must p»t into the education of the
children. Let us see how a part of
the public-school money is spending
for the benefit of the country. The
high school is the critical point in
our free school system. It is the apex
toward which all the rest is built.
The fact that a majority of the public-
school children never reach its grade,
does not prevent its exercising a shap-
ing infiuence over the whole system.
Its graduates, though proportionally
they may be few, are numerically so
many, that their future is every year
becoming a matter for more serious
consideration. That we may better
understand the work of the high
school, let us compare it for a mo-
ment with its predecessor, the old-
fashioned academy. The last thirty
vears have brousfht about the rise of
the one and the decline of the other.
To estimate their value we must com-
pare also their dependent and sup-
porting institutions.
Our fathers and mothers '^ picked
up" their early education in country
district schools. They got their learn-
ing, like everything else, by "hard
knocks ;" — it cost them an effort.
The long spaces between the terms
were not simply vacations to be filled
up with play : they were the most
serious part of the year to the boys
and girls, who spent them developing
their muscles and their faculties in
work on the farm. In school there
was no routine and no fixed course.
The advancement of the pupils de-
pended chiefiy upon their individual
capacity and willingness to work —
The Free High School.
271
two tolerably safe incentives. If these
qualities impelled them to seek more
knowledge, there was the academic
education which was not parcelled out
to them like food to captive fowl. It
was a coveted prize which they must
work to obtain. Only the brightest
children gained it, and they were early
made to feel the value of time and
learning a)id money.
The academies have become a dream
of the past. Scattered all through
the New England towns you will find
old brick buildings, now either dis-
used or diverted from their original
purpose, which, a generation ago, were
nurseries of literary culture. They
were centres of local pride. To be an
academy town then was a greater dis-
tinction than now to be the capital
of the state. Scarcely a man or a
woman of distinction at the present
day who does not owe the better part
of his or her education to the academy
where they spent the happiest days
of their youth. Only the pen of an
Ik Marvel, a Dr. Holland, or a Mrs.
Stowe, can give a faithful picture of
these institutions. They were always
tuition schools. The fee was low, for
the conditions of life were simple, but
the education was held valuable
enough to be worth a price.
The academies have dwindled away
like the mountain streams when the
forests are cut down. A few have
survived, and have been specialized
into expensive college preparatory
schools. Boys alone are the students,
and they, instead of being received as
formerly into private families of the
village and surrounded by the human-
izing influences of a home, are now
congregated together into dormitories.
Educational institutions, instead of
being diffused, are centralized. The
district schools have in some instances
diminished to a single pupil.
What causes have brought about
these changes? The most im|)ortant
are the tendency of the population
toward the cities, and the preference
for machinery over individual labor.
These have killed the academy, and
produced the free graded school sys-
tem of which the high school is the
bright and shining head.
Of all things in the world, it would
seem that education, the drawing out
of the faculties, is the last that ought
to be performed in a wholesale man-
ner. That method works well enough
for inanimate objects. We read of
great factories into which raw logs
and iron are ])ut atone end and drawn
out at the other as completed freight
cars. We hear with wonder and
amazement, if it were possible for the
American mind of the present decade
to be surprised at anything, that a
whole train of such cars can be made
in one day. The tremendous public-
school system seizes our children at
the age of five or six years, except
where the blessed Kindergarten pro-
tects them, puts them into its presses,
instructs them almost entirely from
text-books, and, at eighteen years or
thereabouts, turns them out from its
final mill, graduated — yes, but how
prepared for the life that awaits them .?
They are not provided for like the
freight cars ; there is no regular, un-
varying track laid out for them. In
their course through the schools they
are not treated so well as the freight
cars, for no regard is paid to their
different capacities, and they are all
stuffed with the same things.
There are certain inspectors whose
272
The Free High School.
duty it is to go about the country and
limit the amount of steam which every
steamboat and engine boiler shall be
allowed to carry. The human mind
and disposition are supposed to be
made of indestructible and infinitely
elastic material. Where are the in-
spectors, to go through the land to see
that no public-school teacher is com-
pelled to have under her charge more
pupils than any human being can ad-
equately control and instruct? When
one hears of primary schools with
sixty or eighty pupils entirely under
the charge of one teacher during sev-
eral hours each day, one feels like
shuddering ; but the committee-men
do not. In most cities the public-
school teachers (with all reverence be
they mentioned) have about as much
personal independence and opportun-
ity to adapt instruction to the varied
needs of individual pupils as the sales-
women in the great retail stores have
power to determine the prices of the
goods which they sell. Yet every
body admires the convenience, vari-
ety, and i)late-glass and gilding of the
great retail stores ; and everybody,
presumably, approves the stacks of
examination papers, the graduation
days, and the Procrustean methods of
the public schools.
There is one great difference which
must always place the private schools
either above or below the level of the
public-schools, and it is about the
same difference that exists between
custom and ready-made clothing.
The fact that there are so many in-
competent teachers in ungraded dis-
trict-schools, and that so many fash-
ionable private schools are superficial
and snobbish, merely shows that the
supply is not better than the demand.
It does not hinder the ideal school,
and such have certainly existed, from
being the one in which the master has
power to carry out his own ideas,
which must reflect the student's and
the parent's wants, since they deter-
mine the success of the school. To
know that such masters have lived,
we need not think of the great teach-
ers whose genius drew from far coun-
tries mature, brilliant disciples. We
need only read D'Arcy Went worth
Thompson's Day Dreams of a School-
Master, and Mrs. Htowe's beautiful
account of Cloudland, a country acad-
emy in Old Town Folks.
But it is argued that the state can-
not afford such expensive individual
instruction, even if it were possible
to provide it : the very reason why
it should limit its present scheme.
Every citizen of a republic has a right
to thorough instruction in reading,
writing, and the common operations
of arithmetic, which constitute, ac-
cording to Edward Everett, the essen-
tials of a good education ; and he
adds that ''if to this knowledge be
added the ability to write pure, gram-
matical English, I consider it an ex-
cellent education." What he calls a
good education should be required of
every child in the land endowed with
common faculties. What he calls au
excellent education should be given
all who desire it. Lack of the former
training should be considered as se-
rious as the deprivation of a sense.
That such a training is not universal,
even in the most civilized of our
states, is evident from the census re-
ports of those who cannot read and
write.
But what more in the way of book
instruction should the public purse
The Fi'ec Hiiih School.
273
attempt to provide? It does provide come to mean a synonym for a train-
more in almost every case wliere it ing tliat provides means for people
provides anything. The result is the
free high school, an institution in
which are taught the elements of alge-
bra and geometry, the abstracts of
several sciences, the grammar of two
to live without labor. It is with
them a sort of magic oil, which, if
poured into people's heads for a cer-
tain number of years, will enable
them during the remainder of their
or three languages, and prob.ably an lives to keep their hands white, and
outline of history, mental and moral
philosophy, and civil government. All
this is furnished without money and
without price to all who will come and
partake. Why should the public purse
undertake to furnish this extra educa-
at the same time to enjoy daint}' food
and fine clothes. What wonder, when
fountains of this potent fluid are dis-
tributed at public expense all over
the land, that manual labor is de-
spised.^ The common people, who
tion any more than it should provide wish to advance the fortunes of their
free dinners or decent tenement
homes for the poor? It must be that
the education is considered of great
value.
Some years ago I heard an obser-
vant elderly lady say that the free
high school was destined to be the
ruin of this country. I attributed
her remark, which shocked me as
having the spirit of the eighteenth
century, to the prejudices and con-
servatism of one who had no sym-
pathy with the masses. In fact, I
was so indignant about it that I be-
gan observations to disprove her
statement. While I am still far
from acknowledging its truth, my
enthusiasm about the high school has
become modified so much that it ap-
pears no longer an unmixed blessing,
but an institution quite unadapted
to the needs of the country.
Why is it that there is such a con-
stant cry about the lack of skilled
mechanics, artisans, and domestic
servants? Why is it that there is
such a surplus of cheap professional
men, clerks, and copyists? It is be-
cause education with the lower classes
(I use the terra for convenience) has
children, have no comprehension of
the satisfaction of a cultivated mind,
nor can they understand that mental
labor is of the severest and most tax-
ing kind. But they do believe that
if they surrender the entire youth of
their children to the public schools,
that the schools, since they incapaci-
tate their pupils for manual labor,
ought to teach them to get a living
by their wits.
Let us take some ever3'-day exam-
ples. I know a respectable Irishman,
a laborer. His wife, before her mar-
riage, "worked out." She now
works in her own family. They live
in a town which for many 3'ears has
boasted a complete public-school sys-
tem. Their eight children enjoy its
benefits. The parents have become
thoroughly imbued with the American
idea that their children must have a
better opportunity than themselves.
The eldest daughter has just grad-
uated from the high school. I saw
the hack sweep down the alley in
which they live, and convey her in
muslin robes and satin ribbons from
a tenement in whose parlor the cook-
stove and the crib are the most strik-
274
The Free High School.
ing ornaments, to the flower-decked
stage where she read her essay. Her
parents weep tears of joy at the
height she has reached. One or two
of my friends renaark that it is ex-
tremely creditable for a poor girl like
her to have gained such an education.
It might be, if it had been by any
effort of her own. Not one sacrifice
has she made to procure her learning.
She has been a passive instrument in
the grasp of the public-school system.
She has continued her course because
the school was pleasanter than any
other place, because it cost nothing,
and because she must always be
dressed well to appear there. She
lias had no industrial training : she
could not very vvell have obtained it
had she wished it, for the schools
absorb so much of the time and ener-
gies of their pupils.
Having once conferred its diploma,
the high school washes its hands of
its pupils. I felt somewhat concerned
for Miss O'Hafferty. I wondered
what she would do. I understood
that, like the seventeen other girls
in her class, she wished to teach.
Even if I had not known this. I
should not have dared to approach
her with an oft"er of domestic service.
No, indeed. By virtue of her much
learning she is raised completely out
of lier natural environment, and ex-
pects to be forever freed from the
necessity of toiling with her hands.
Some months afterward I was call-
ed from my work by a summons to
tlie parlor. I found Miss O'Hafferty
seated therein. Having failed in her
efforts to obtain a school, she had
decided to become a book agent, and
slie offered a gilt-edged volume for
my inspection. I do not know what
she will do when she finds that she
cannot support herself in this way.
Here is another instance : The fa-
ther is a painter ; the mother before
her marriage was a dressmaker.
They have a boy and three girls.
The father has no idea of having his
son follow his trade ; few American
fathers have. At the age of fifteen
the boy drifts into the high school
because that saves the parents the
trouble of deciding what other occu-
pation he shall follow, and because
they fondly hope that the learning
acquired there will be in such demand
that it will procure him a thousand-
dollar situation immediately u|)on
graduation. He graduates. After
some months of waiting he becomes
a clerk in a drv goods store at a
salary of two dollars a week.
Since most Americans must work
in some way for their bread and
meat, it would seem that training for
this work ought to begin during the
school age. In large cities, where
everything is carefully specialized,
children often grow up without know-
ing how to use their hands. City
homes offer so few opportunities foi*
manual labor that if industrial educa-
tion is not provided in the public
schools, we may have a race of beings
born without digital appendages, be-
cause their ancestors' have dwindled
away from lack of use.
Some German schools pursue the
admirable plan of instructing children
from text-books during one half of
the day, and from tools the other half.
This system has results similar to
those of the country district-schools.
The children bring to their books
sharpened wits and a persistency
learned from a contact with things.
African J^'^otcs.
275
School is a novelty and a pleasure to
them. Their advancement always
equals that of children who spend all
their working hours in study.
The papers are continually print-
ing articles about the immense value
to every person of the knowledge of
some practical handicraft by which
he can earn his own living. They
cite instances of European noliles
who have apprenticed their sons, and
of a few wealthy men in this country
who have followed their example.
But it is no use. So long as the pub-
lic schools teach as they do, and es-
pecially so long as tlie iiigh school
remains free, their mighty influence
all goes against manual labor.
In old times it was accounted that
a child seven years old was able to
earn its living. It may be a disad-
vantage for a child to have to do it,
but it certainly is no less a one for
the child to be put into the public
school system and turned out at the
age of seventeen without knowledge
of one practical craft by which he
can provide for himself. When Hor-
ace Greeley saw Oxford graduates in
New York city unable to earn their
daily bread, no wonder that he
" thanked God that he was graduated
from a New England ^"e>•^/ common
school."
I have no wish to depreciate the
value of learning. It is because I
would not have it held cheap that I
would not give it away in any grade
beyond the grammar school. If par-
ents had to pay a tuition fee, how-
ever slight, to the high school, they
would be compelled to appreciate the
relative values of things. There
should be no niggardliness in expen-
diture for public education. School
appropriations, if judiciously applied,
cannot be too large. There are not
half enough school-houses in the land ;
but that which the people most need
to know should be taught in them.
The instruction of the high school
may well be left to those who can
afford time and money for learning
for its own sake.
AFRICAN NOTES.
By a. a. Woodbridge.
No i)art of the Dark Continent has
been opened up longer to the com-
merce of the world than has the west
coast, and yet to the average I'eader
no part of the African coast is less
known than the long stretch of har-
borless shore line from Goree to the
Bights of Benin and Biafra.
No trading coast of the world can
offer richer inducements to the Amer-
ican shipmaster or owner, yet but few
capitalists are found with sufficient
knowledge of its constant value to
induce them to engage in its trade.
England skirts the coast with steam
and sail, carrying protection with
man-of-war and mail-boat to every
trading-post where any handful of
Englishmen have made a thirty da3's
stand. Nearly half a century before
Columbus's first voyage westward the
Portuguese had nominally taken pos-
276
African Notes.
session of the gold coast, with head-
quarters at Delmina (Elmina), nine
miles from the now flourishing Eng-
lish port of entry, Cape Coast Castle.
They built Fort Delmina and flung
out the flag of Portugal, but in 1491
the Dutch came in, landing above
them, fortified the elevated ground on
the landward side, dubbed the fort
St. Jago, and with the conclusive
argument of heavier round shot re-
minded the Portuguese of the transi-
tory nature of things, so that the Latin
gathered himself up with alacrity and
hied him beyond the equator.
The Dutch held possession until
1872, when all their possessions on
the Gold coast were transferred to
Great Britain. This old town in its
palmy days was the pride of its pos-
sessors. Paved streets, turnpiked
roads, long rows of quite imposing
residences and warehouses, gave an
air of dignity to the town, and inspired
the traveller with a feeling of home,
when, worn down by weeks of travel
through sand and jungle, he came in
view of the whitewashed town nestling
down on the verge of its surf-fretted
beach.* The Dutch are good colo-
nizers. They do not insist that seal-
skin overcoats shall be worn in Africa
because they do it in " our country,
you know." They adapt themselves
to the environment, and their African
towns are composite in architecture —
half Ham, half Hamburg — and so are
the inhabitants.
But the glory of the old town passed
when the royal ensign of Portugal was
lowered. The colonial policy of Eng-
land is felt here in all its selfishness.
" Millions for the Bank of-P2ngland,
*The a\itluir's notes were made in 187", while
travelling iu Africa.
but not a penny for colonial improve-
ment," is the motto of the home gov-
ernment. The streets are going to
decay, the grass and jungle cactus are
creeping into the formerly well kept
turnpike from Elmina to Cape Coast
Castle, and the old resident feels that
his home is being dismantled for the
aggrandizement of Cape Coast and
Accra. The governor resides at the
latter town, while Cape Coast rejoices
in a fortified castle, a black regiment,
and a staff of English officers who
curse the " beastly coast," do their
duty like Englishmen, stay two years
and are relieved, or stay longer and
are gathered into the inclosure ren-
dered sacred by a few white slabs that
mark the resting-place of such Eng-
lish and Americans as have succumbed
to the deadly climate.
A description of one town on the
coast, with a few corrections, will an-
swer for all. Cape Coast, viewed
from the sea or land approaches, pre-
sents a picture of beauty. The blend-
ing of brown, white, and green is
unique and satisfying. Entering the
town from either side, the illusion is
dispelled. Let us open it up from the
landward side. We will leave Elmina
at 5 A. M., by the trans-continental
African coach. Said coach is a ham-
mock carried on the heads of four
stalwart Fantee savages. A fancy
canopy serves as an awning, and, bol-
stered half upright by pillows, fanned
by the sea breeze that tempers the
sultry air, we enjoy a ride that is truly
delicious. Four miles an hour is reg-
ular score. As we leave Elmina, the
road is lined by a lavish growth of
giant cactus, fifteen feet high, in full
bloom ; soon it breaks, and the bush
jungle comes up to the roadside. Here
African Notes.
277
and tliere the jungle breaks ; patches
of corn are seen, where some en-
terprising heathen has burned off
the " bush " and put in his " kauky "
seed. The scenery' across the country
is beautiful and satisfying, rather
than grand. On the right, occasional
glimpses of the sea are had, while to
the left the highlands of the interior
raise their tops to meet the eye above
the jungle. We cross a miniature
iron suspension bridge over the Sweet-
water river, built by the English dur-
ing the Ashantee war. Over this
bridge the troops of Sir Garnet Wool-
sey crossed on their march to Koo-
massee. The emotion one experiences
as he first comes upon this little gem
is akin to what he might feel at a
successful manipulation of Aladdin's
lamp.
This looks like English public spirit,
but the facts demur. It cost treasure,
but its raison d'etre was to assist in
pushing the troops to the capital of
the Ashantee country, where, after
staying but two days, and burning
Koomassee, they brought away enough
of barbaric ornaments in beaten gold
to pay the entire expenses of the war.
But the bridge is now left to wear out
with time, and, like the improvements
of the Dutch, will go to desolation
and the bush.
But as the ride across the country
will tire the reader, we will cut its
recital short. Our heathen friends
gather us flowers and catch us butter-
flies, and we try a few shots at some
white-breasted crows. Now and then
a suggestive growl from the jungle
causes my four horses to quicken their
pace, or a serpent glides lazily across
the road, a type of African indolence.
But we are at last in Cape Coast, and
our hammock-men are discharged until
early evening. The town presents a
far more interesting view as you enter
from the country than it does from
the beach, but the beauty is lost as
one threads its narrow lanes, saluting
his nostrils with the never-to-be-for-
gotten West Coast odor. Cape Coast,
like all Fantee towns, is irregularly
laid out, although making some show
of streets. There are some residences
quite imposing, and around the gov-
ernment buildings are grounds that
show the handiwork of white men,
garnished with a flora of which the
tropics are ever lavish. The castle
itself, or fort, is an extensive struct-
ure, seemingly well garrisoned. The
greater portion of the town is made
up of mud houses, so called. They
are built from the earth upon which
they stand. This earth, wet and
mixed with gravel, forms, when sun-
baked, a hard cement. The walls are
raised from two to three feet thick.
Those that are roofed are covered with
thatch, or long country grasses, save
a few boasting roofs of corrugated
iron — an English blunder. The native
experience teaches the Fantee that a
non-conductor is the proper roof in a
hot country. Those that are not
roofed tumble down every wet season
and are rebuit in the dry, giving the
inhabitants all the variety and priva-
tions of a summer tour without the
extra hazard of travel. We pass a
chapel, but, hearing something that
resembles the hum of a giant bee-hive,
we turn back, and, making our way
through flocks of goats, pigs, sheep,
and fowls, enter what we find to be a'
school-room. A hundred eyes from
the shiny black faces of fifty Fantee
scions turn toward us, and the tumult
278
African Notes.
ceases. The mistress, a coal-tar bru-
nette, haDcls us a seat, and the insur-
rection again commences. The school-
room is divided into pens that hold
six each, and each pen has an usher
who takes the lead of his class. It
is the hour for recitation, for every
bird is pouring forth his song into the
ear of his class-leader. Each slate is
covered with some sort of dictation
exercise. We are satisfied, and seek
the air.
The Wesleyan missionary at Cape
Coast has nominal charge of this
school. He seems a man devoted to
his calling, but appears like one whom
the climate is rapidly fitting for anoth-
er life. The Fantee seems easily
grounded in the Christian faith, but
cannot deal with its abstractions. A
picture or statue — an idol, if you
please — is rather a help than a hin-
drance to his faith. Their Sunday is
our Friday, and their Christmas is the
last eight days of August. They
cling to these traditions, and date
them back to some ancient instruc-
tions received before the English mis-
sionaries came among them. They
console themselves wonderfully at the
death of one of their family by say-
ing '"It is God's palaver ^'^ a term
meaning business. At the death of a
husband, the wife or wives sit in front
of the house, howling for a few hours,
while the heir to his property, the
oldest nephew, furnishes the crowd of
friends, who come to the palaver, with
a few bottles marked " Boston rum."
In reply to your question why the
nephew inherits the estate rather than
the son, a Fantee will tell you he is
not certain that the son is of his
blood ; his sister's son must be. The
more prominent the deceased, the less
certain is he of rest after life's fitful
fever. A year after he has been
" quietly inurned," his relatives,
friends, and town's-people generally
take him up in his gum-wood casket,
and bear him through the town at the
head of a tumultuous procession for
a number of hours. This is repeated
each day for a week, when he is de-
posited again to rest another year.
The expense attendant upon the ob-
servance of this custom keeps many
a nephew poor.
Proceeding to the post-office to see
if our American friends have remem-
bered us, we are invited to enter by
the Prnice of Bonny, P. M. We en-
ter between two files of soldiers at a
" present." We inform the Prince
that we are not ex-presidents, but
only humble citizens in disguise, and
asked for letters. He smiles blandly,
points us to six or eight Fantee clerks,
and sits down. We are conducted to
the interior office, and being present-
ed with a four-bushel box full of mail
matter that has been accumulating for
ages, we are told to " ty/te ye" — look
sharp, and we may find something.
We look at each other, sit down, and
distribute the contents of the box
aforesaid. Nothing. This is too
much. We know by advices at Mon-
rovia that letters for us must have ar-
rived ; so, sitting down on either side
of the Prince, we take off our hats,
and exhaust our entire vocabulary of
Fantee in abuse. He smiles again,
and we give him our parting bene-
diction. It has since occurred to
me that he might not have fully un-
derstood our good intentions.
Spreading our umbrellas to protect
us from the broiling sun, we stroll
leisurelv toward the beach below the
African Notes.
279
Castle. We make our way through
crowds of naked bushraen, Ashantee
and Fantee, with here and there a
native trader in European dress. It
is the hour of high market, and long
lines of bushmen are coming in, each
bearing on his head the palm oil, the
ivory, the tiger skins, or the gold dust
he is to exchange for fish, flour, rum,
tobacco, and gaudy prints, all to be
taken back to the bush in barter for
the next day's cargo. "Ou-ra,"
" Ou-ra" (Master), is pleasantly giv-
en us, as the throng make way for us.
Arrived at the water front, we find a
" war beach" surf, running seven feet
high, with its continuous roar, old as
the upraised continent. We sight
our vessel just anchored in the rollers
a mile from shore, riding easily in
perhaps seven fathoms, with ninety
fathoms of chain out to relieve the
strain of the heavy sea running. We
signal her, and the surf-boat shoots
away from alongside, propelled shore-
ward by ten brawny Kroomen.
The landing of a surf-boat is an
art possessed alone by the natives.
Traders coming down the coast either
touch at Monrovia and take their
Kroo-boys (the Kroos constitute the
principal native tribe of Liberia) , or,
omitting to do so, depend upon the
Fantee shoremen, said to be equally
as good in the surf. But a native
cries out, "•0-re-bah," and in truth
" He-is-coming." The surf-boat is
poised on the top of the "second"
wave, perhaps one hundred and fifty
yards from the beach. The rollers
come on shore in triplets, and woe to
the man who takes the first or king
wave. When the boatswain, steer-
ing always with a twenty-foot oar,
is as close on as his judgment allows,
he rests on his oars, and, with eyes
dead astern, he watches his chance.
He allows the first and second wave
to pass under him, and then, " Ah-
tu-ne ! ah-tu-ne !" and the Kroomen
give way with a lightning stroke and
a propelling force of ten eighteen-
foot oars. The boat quivers as she
literally flies over the top of the third
sea and is swept up the beach until,
at the first keel grate, the oars are in
by magic, and every Krooman is in the
water with a hand on the gunwale,
steadying it for the last throe of the
next king-wave which shall float her,
and assist in carrying her above the
reach of the succeeding wave.
" Oh ! me-moog-g3' ! me-muc-e-na-
o !" "Or-ra-gog-a-ra !'"' " Jum-a-jum !"
" Jum-a-rell ! " A rapid fusilade of
Senegal, Kroo, Ashantee, and Fan-
tee — tower of Babel palaver — and we
dispatch a boy to send back our
coach to Elmina, and we are handed
into the surf-boat. It is floated and
successfully launched, meeting a roll-
er that gave us a taste of the spray ;
but the next catches us on its crest,
and we are spinning towards the
" Grace" in safety.
28o
Windham, JV. H.
WINDHAM, N. H— Chapter 5.
By Hon. Leonard A. Morrison, Author of " History of the Morrison Family'
AND "History of Windham, N. H."
SCHOOLS.
The first settlers were a thinking
people, lovers of intelligence, and
promoters of education. Many of
them had received a good rudimen-
tary education before coming to
America. No sooner had they plant-
ed themselves here and erected their
log-houses, than schools were estab-
lished and fostered with jealous care.
But the early residents were poor,
and the struggle was long and hard
before they made "the wilderness
blossom as the rose." That the first
settlers had education enough for the
duties of life is evident from the
records now extant ; and that their
children also received a respectable
education is equall}' evident.
Four common schools were sup-
ported in Londonderry in 1727, of
which Windham was then a part.
Of the earliest schools in town there
is no record ; the receding years
have borne away all specific knowl-
edge of them. The first school of
which there is any account was in
1766, and James Aiken was the
teacher. He taught a singing-school
evenings, and a day school for the
children. Nicholas Sauce, a dis-
charged British soldier, in 1760, of
the French and Indian war, after
that date, taught for a long time.
He was a cruel teacher, as was the
custom of those days, yet his schol-
ars owed him a debt of gratitude for
the instruction they received from
him. In 1770 there is mention of
one "John Smith, school-master."
"Master McKeen " was the next
teacher in order, and taught about
the year 1776. He was a man of
fine acquirements and ripe scholar-
ship ; but his mind was not on his
calling, and if he chanced to see a
squirrel by the road side, he would
stop and catch that squirrel if it took
" all summer."
The school-houses were rude af-
fairs and often unfit for school pur-
poses, and in summer the schools
were often kept in barns, and many
times in private houses in the winter.
Family schools were much in vogue.
Parents would teach their children,
or the eldest child would be installed
as teacher of the younger ones.
There was great eagerness for learn-
ing, and many ways were devised to
scatter seeds of instruction, which
would germinate and grow into the
beautiful tree of knowledge laden
with glorious fruit.- The Capt. Na-
thaniel Hemphill's large family of
eighteen children were educated in
their own family school.
Among the early teachers may be
mentioned Robert Dinsmoor (the
"Rustic bard"), Samuel Campbell,
Samuel Armor, Susan Stuart, Robert
Malcolm Morison, Peter Patterson,
Andrew Mack, Margaret Hamilton,
the beautiful, the beloved, and the
lamented, and Jose|)h Greeley, John
Nesmith, and John Park ; also, Persis
Thorn, afterwards the accomplished
wife of the late Gov. John Bell, and
mother of ex- Gov. Charles H. Bell.
It was formerly the custom for the
Windkam, N. H.
28r
scholars to teach school on New
Year's Day, and lock out the teacher.
Ou one brigiit New Year's morning
the scholars came early, became mas-
ters of the castle, and held the fort.
Their time of rejoicing was of short
duration ; for the succeeding day was
one to be remembered to theii" dying
hour by some of the scholars. It was
a day of trouble, of mental darkness,
of sorrow and lamentation. " The
quality of mercy " which " droppeth
as the gentle rain from heaven" found
no lodgment in the teacher's breast.
A wild justice reigned triumphant,
and those riotous, fun-loving, mis-
chief-making boys received a most
unmerciful flogging. More than
eighty years have gone since then,
teacher and pupils have passed away,
but the event is still alluded to.
Any account of our educational
institutions would be defective which
omitted
WILLIAMS ACADEMY.
This academy was the most potent
influence ever exerted in town for
the higher education of our youth.
It was a private institution, origi-
nated and taught by Rev. Simon
Williams, commencing about 17G8,
and terminating only a very short
time before his death, in 1793. His
scholarship was of the highest order,
and was celebrated while in town
and previously. Among those whom
he prepared for college were Rev.
Joseph McKeen, D. D., first presi-
dent of Bowdoin college, Rev. Sam-
uel Taggart, the distinguished clergy-
man and congressman of Coleraine,
Mass., Hon. Silas Betton, M. C,
Dr. John Parke, editor and physician,
Rev. John Goffe, John Dinsmoor,
Col. Silas Dinsmoor, the noted In-
dian agent, whose career was so rom-
antic, and the elder Gov. Samuel
Dinsmoor.
In the fourth class (1773) graduated
at Dartmouth college, nearly one half
were fitted for college by Mr. Will-
iams. The school often nujnbered
from forty to fifty scholars.
At the present time there are seven
school-districts, in each of which a
new school-house has been built since
1850. The schools are successfully
managed and wisely fostered by the
citizens.
LIBRARIES.
There was no public library in
town previous to 1800. but previous
to that date some of our citizens were
shareholders in a library in Salem,,
and to whom the books thus became
accessible. This library was discon-
tinued and the books divided among
the shareholders, and they became
the nucleus of the first public library
here, in 1800, and took a more per-
manent shape by being incorporated
in 1806. This was of inestimable
benefit to our citizens, and numbered
at one time some 400 volumes. A
Sunday-school library was established
in 1832. This is kept in the Presby-
terian church, and now numbers some
500 volumes.
SCHOOL-DISTRICT LIBRARIES.
In October, 1839, our former fel-
low-citizen, John Nesmith, Esq., of
Lowell, Mass., since lieutenant-
governor of Massachusetts, presented
to each school-district a district li-
brary of fifty volumes, making in all
350 books, at an expense of $175.
These libraries, increased in some
cases, exist to-day. It was a gener-
ous gift, and was admirably adapted
282
Windham, N. H.
to the end in view. Many of Wind-
ham's sous and daughters, who have
gone far from the scenes and associa-
tions of their youth and the place of
their nativity, recall with pleasure,
thankfulness, and deep satisfaction
the profit experienced while reading
those volumes.
A second town library was estab-
lished in 1852, and was destroyed by
fire in 1856.
NESMITH FREE PUBLIC LIBRARY — 1871.
Among those whom the citizens of
the town remember with gratitude is
one of the sons of her soil, our for-
mer fellow-townsman. Col. Thomas
Nesmith, of Lowell, Mass. At his
death, in 1870, he left by will $3,000
•for the establishment of a free public
library, and which the town voted to
accept Jan. 19, 1871. The trustees
of the library were Rev. Joseph Lan-
man, James Cochran, Hiram 8. Rey-
nolds, William D. Cochran, and Leon-
ard A. Morrison, who took the initi-
atory steps for its establishment in
April, 1871.
A library-room was prepared in the
town-house, the books selected, pur-
chased, and the formal opening of the
library occurred June 21, 1871. It
was a gala day, and marked a new
era in the intellectual and social his-
tory of the people. The hall was
crowded with as intellectual and in-
telligent an audience as ever met in
Windham. Many of the absent sons
and daughtei's returned, and many
cultivated people from the neighbor-
ing towns were present. An able
address was delivered by Hon. John
C. Park, of Boston, Mass. Short
addresses were made by W. H. An-
derson, Esq., of Lowell, L. A. Mor-
rison, Esq., of Windham, Dea. Jon-
athan Cochran, of Melrose, Mass.,
Rev. Augustus Berry, of Pelham,
and others.
The library has been highly appre-
ciated, largely patronized, and now
numbers upon its shelves more than
2,400 volumes of well selected and
valuable works. Many of the choic-
est and most valuable works in the
language can be found in it, and this
will rank, does rank, among the very
best public libraries in the state of
its size. Long may it flourish, and
may its influence never be less.
AUTHORS, BOOKS, AND PAMPHLETS.
Thomas Blackwell's book on Gen-
uine Revealed Religion, with an in-
troduction to the American edition
by Rev. Simon Williams ; also, a
small book by the Presbytery ; both
published before 1793.
By Rev. Samuel Harris —
Funeral Sermon of Miss Mary
Colby, of Chester; in 1815.
Memoir of Miss Mary Campbell,
1819 ; printed 1820.
Questions on Christian Experience
and Character; printed in 1827-'28,
two editions.
Farewell Sermon, 1826.
Poems of Robert Dinsmoor, the
" Rustic bard ; " 264 pp., 1828.
Thanksgiving Sermon, Rev. Calvin
Cutler; 1835.
By Rev. Loreu Thayer —
Sketch of the Presbyterian Church
of Windham ; 1856.
Sermon on Assassination of Abra-
ham Lincoln ; 1865.
Centennial Sermon, 1876 ; Rev.
Charles Packard.
Com[)lete set of printed Town Re-
Windham, N. H.
285
ports, and several historical sermons,
bound in one volume; 1881. Com-
piled by Leonard A. Morrison.
By Leonard A. Morrison —
History of the Morison or Morri-
son Family ; 470 pp. ; published in
1880; 1,100 copies.
Condensed History of Windham,
N. H., for the Histor\' of Rocking-
ham and Strafford Connties ; pub-
lished 1882.
History of Windham, N. H., from
1710 to 1883; 872 pp.; 750 copies;
published 1883.
History of the Harris Family, 1636-
1883; 141 pp.; published 1883; by
William S. Harris.
This town has sent forth its full
complement of men equipped with a
thorough education for the conflict of
life. This list embratjes the most of
its
COLLEGE STUDENTS AND GRADUATES.
Amherst College, Amherst, Mass. —
John M. Harris, grad. 1839.
Charles H. Crowell was a member
two years.
Orren Moore entered 1854 — there
one year.
Rufus A. INIorrison, grad. 1859.
Samuel Morrison, grad. 1859.
Brown University, Providence, R. I.
John Hopkins, entered in 1820, d.
in college.
Dartmouth College, Hanover, N. H. —
Gilbert T. Williams, gmd. 1784.
Simon Fiuley Williams, grad. 1785.
Silas Betton, grad. 1787.
Samuel Armor, grad. 1787.
Samuel Diusmoor, grad. 1789.
Silas Dinsmoor, grad. 1791.
John Park, grad. 1791.
John H. Williams, grad. 1798,
James Dinsmoor, grad. 1813.
John Kezer, grad. Med. Col., 1826.
Edward Pratt Harris, grad. 1826.
Nathaniel Hills, grad. 1841.
James Dinsmoor, grad. 1841.
Silas M. Blanchard, grad. 1842.
Charles Cutler, grad. 1852.
James M. Whittaker, grad. 1861.
Cassius S. Campbell, grad. 1868.
Andrew W. Cochran, in college two
years.
Harvard University, Cambridge. Mass.
George Jacob Abbot, grad. 1835.
Herman E. Douelson, grad. 1836.
Alexander F. Marden, grad. 1863.
Wesleyan University, Middletown,
Conn. —
Cadford ]\L Dinsmoor, grad. 1851.
Hannah Ada Taylor, grad. 1876.
Yale College, New Haven, Conn. —
Jonathan L. Noyes, grad. 1852,
Carroll Cutler, grad. 1854.
These persons, not college gradu-
ates, attained honorable rank, and
success in their professions :
Judge Silas Morris Cochran was an
associate justice of the court of ap-
peals of Maryland.
Charles Abbott was judge of one
of the local courts of Nevada.
John Nesmith, judge of the police
court, Dover, N. H.
Silas Milton Moore, principal of
academy at Chester, N. H.
Dr. Isaac Thorn, a prominent phy-
sician in Windham and Derry.
Dr. Benjamin F. Simpson, a suc-
cessful practitioner in Windham and
Lowell, Mass.
Dr. Daniel L. Simpson, late of
West Rumuey, N. H.
Dr. John Reid Crowell, late of
Brooklyn, Mich.
284
Windham, N. H.
WINDHAM IN THE REBELLION.
The long contest between the North
and the South in relation to the ques-
tion of slavery was nearing its end.
The moral sense of the nation was
awakened to the fearful wickedness
of the system of human slavery, and
the people were determined that
" Freedom should be national,"
"Slavery should be sectional," and
that the peculiar institution should be
confined to the limits it then occu-
pied. To this its sui)porters were
opposed, and demanded ample pro-
tection to their property in slaves in
all the states and territories of the
Union. There was an ''irrepressible
conflict " between the adiierents and
suppprters of slavery and those ar-
rayed against it. The conflict was
destined to be waged till decided, not
in the arena of debate, not in the
halls of legislation, but upon the field
■of battle, where hostile armies met
and struggled for the mastery.
Abraham Lincoln having been
elected President in 1860, this was
made a pretext by the states of the
South for an attempt to withdraw
from the Union. The Rebellion com-
menced by an attack upon Fort Sum-
ter, April 12, 1861. Tlie roar of the
rebel cannon awoke the slumberino-
millions of Northern freemen, who
rallied by tens of thousands in defence
of the government.
The soldiers of tiiis town in the 1st
Regiment were Walter J. Burnham,
Asa Bean,* Seth N. Huntley,* Will-
iam Wyman, Moses Wyman.* In
•other regiments they were, —
Josiah S. Everett,
Lewis A. McConihe,*
John Dunn,
*ReeuIistoil.
John McGowan,
Joseph White,
Jesse C. Crowell,*
Thomas Crook,
Russell W. Powell,
Joseph R. Everett,*
Albion K. Goodwin,
Charles Cole,
John G. Johnson,*
James Murphy,
Caleb G. Wiley,*
James G. Batchelder,
John Calvin Hills,
Lemuel Maiden,
Lewis Ripley,*
Samuel Haseltine,
Moses Myrick,
James C. Stone,
Theodore Clark,
Horatio Gleason,
Edward H. Gallagher,
John Inshaw,
David Lyon,
Daniel Sullivan,
Wentworth S. Cowan,
Frederick Otis,
James Murphy,
Patrick Han nan,
Bernard McCan,
James Stevens,
Charles E. Bailey,
Horace W. Hunt,
James Brown,
Oliver Burns,
Jacques Dreux,
William Anderson,
Austin L. Lamprey,
George W. Coburn,
David Brainurd Fessenden,
Micajah B. Kimball,
Reuben O. Phillips,
John G. Bradford,
Henry W. Chellis,
John W. Hall,
Albert Fletcher,
Good-Byc.
285
James Brown,
George W. Durant,
Joseph G. Avers,
Gilman Jaquith,
Charles E. Fegan,
James Jones,
Leveii Duplessis,
Ephraim Plimpton,
James Baker,
Timothy Norris,
Henry S. Hancock,
George W. Carr,
Whitney R. Richardson,
Harvey Hancock.
The war was over at last. The
town was deeply in debt. Under this
it labored for several years, but
it has been extinguished, and there is
money in the town's treasury.
Upon the farming communities of
the state the war bore with peculiar
severity. Such was the case with
this town. The armies of the Union
were necessarily filled with young
men. and of these there was no sur-
plus here. The larger part of our
young men had left the old homes,
and gone to the cities and larger
towns, and when the war broke out
they rallied, and helped to swell the
ranks of companies and regiments of
other states.
But the history of our soldiers is
an honorable one. Some sleep in the
'' sunny South," smitten by rebel
bullets or wasting sickness, or starv-
ed to death in rebel prisons ; some
returned to their homes to linger for
years with disease upon them, and
to-day fill soldiers' graves. Some
still move among us, performing well
their duties in life.
Men die ; examples and principles
live.
The soldiers of Windham in every
war save the last have lono- since
passed away ; yet the examples of
their patriotism, courage, and devo-
tion to i)rinciples will never die. The
courage ui the fathers in the French
and Indian war, in the war of the
Revolution, fiamed forth anew in the
war for the nation's preservation from
1861 to I860. All honor to them—
to all of the nation's defenders !
Tiieir deeds will be recounted bv
those of future generations who will
acknowledge the debt of gratitude
they owe them.
"Ill the beauty of tlie lilies Christ was born across
the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you
and me ;
As Ho died to make men holy, so they died to make
men free."
GOOD-BYE.
By C. C. Lord.
We linger at the closing scene.
The hands are clasped that soon must part,
And cruel fate divides between
Each heart that craves each other heart.
And tear-drops roll and voices sigh
When lips are forced to sa}' Good-b^^e.
So geutl}' spoken ; how the tide
Of kindness fills the soul of pain
iS6
Love and Theology .
Tlial would each past resentment hide,
That love may full assurance sain.
And peaceful constancy rely
Upon the last sad word — Good-bye !
Why is it? In the place of tears,
Our thoughts involved with sharp regrets,
We pass unmanifested years,
Forecast with grief that ne'er forgets
To damp the eyes that fain would dry,
And claim a space to say Good-bye.
Quick faith, that owns a subtle spring
Of inward potency, is bold
To rise on wings of hope that bring
The promises its days unfold.
And o'er the heights of time, descry
The recompense of each Good-bye.
O prophecy divine, that breaks
Out of the gloom of life distressed,
Evoked in severance, yet takes
Trne counsel of reunion blest,
That soothes the breast and dries the eye
With joy foretold of sweet Good-bye !
Love and Theology. A Novel. By
Celia. Parker Woolley. 1 vol.
12mo; $1.50.
It is not only entertaining, but in-
teresting from the highest point of
view. It goes on from chapter to
chapter with ever-increasing force and
power. No book of fiction that Tick-
nor & Co. have published has had, to
my thinking, the attraction and value
of this ; and nowhere has the present
study and questioning of theological
subjects been more clearly and satis-
factorily presented ; for, in all this
presentation, there is not a hint of
irreverance or flippancy of any kind.
There is, instead, a very beautiful
presentation of the very best inter-
pretation of the liberal thoughts of
to-day, — an interpretation that con-
tains the highest spirituality. Here-
in is the book of great value ; and
that it will be reckoned amongst the
books that will be of service to all
intelligent inquirers, I have no doubt.
It is, I should say most decidedly, a
book to own, and not merely to read
for amusement only, and then to
throw aside ; and this for the charac-
terization, as well as the presentation
of the newer interpretations of the
Bible, etc. This characterization is
exceedingly well done, showing no
effort, but a natural gift of character
painting. The dialogue is something
more than mere made-up talk, and
the reflective portion contains philos-
ophy of the most cultivated kind, and
this, of course, includes the fact that
this philosophy is free from narrow
and vulgar self-assertion.
THE
RANITE neNTHLY.
A NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE.
T)evoted to Literature, 'Biography, History, and State Progress.
Vol. X. SEPTEMBER AND OCTOBER, 1887. Nos. 9 & 10.
HON. AMOS J. BLAKE.
Amos J. Blake was horu in Riudge,
Cheshire county, New Hampsliire,
October 20, 1836, where liis parents,
Ebenezer Blake and Hepsibeth Jew-
ett, were also born, and resided until
the dates of their deaths. He was
their eighth child and seventh son.
His grandfather, Deacon Eleazer
Blake, the immediate ancestor of the
Blake family of Rindge, was born in
Wreutham, Mass., April 1, 17.57. In
1775, after tlie battle of Lexington,
he enlisted in the Revolutionary war,
and marched with a company from his
native town, under command of Capt.
Crowell, and arrived at Roxbury on
the morning of April 20, and contin-
ue in the patriot army during the
entire war. He participated in the
siege of Boston, and on the day of
the battle of Bunker Hill he, with
otliers, was engaged in fortifying
Prospect hill, where he witnessed the
bloody engagement of June 17. His
regiment was sent to New York, and
joined the army under Gen. Gates,
where he participated in the triumphs
of the patriots over Gen. Burgoyne,
and bore an honorable part in the
memorable battles of Stillwater and
Saratoga. The following winter he
endured the exposure and nakedness
of Valley Forge. The following spring
and summer he was with the army
immediately under the command of
Gen. Washington.
In 1780, then in Col. Shepard's reg-
iment, he was appointed sergeant, and
in 1782 was detailed assistant quar-
termaster of the Fourth Massachusetts
Brigade, in which line of service he
continued until his discharge, June
12, 1783. at "Camp New Windsor,"
New York, from whence he travelled
on foot a distance of 220 miles to his
home in Wrentham, where he arrived
June 21, after a continuous service in
the Revolutionary war of more than
eiglit years.
In the autumn following his dis-
charge, accompanied by his brothei
Ebenezer, who had also sei'ved four
years in the army, he visited Coos
county. New Hampshire, where he
288
Hon. Amos y. Blake.
remained several months, and was
engaged as a school teacher.
After a brief residence in New
York, he married, November 29, 1785,
Jerusha Gerould, daughter of Gama-
liel and Jernsha (Mann) Geronld, of
Wrentham, and settled in Stoddard,
N. H. In 1792 lie removed to Rindge,
where he continued to reside, follow-
ing the occupation of a farmer and
wheelwright.
Under the ministry of the eminent
Dr. Seth Pay son, he was chosen dea-
con of the Congregational church, in
which capacity he officiated until 80
years of age. The blameless charac-
ter of Deacon Blake, his unimpeach-
able integrity, and his Christian coun-
sels will long be treasured by his
townsmen and acquaintances. He
died September 27, 1852, aged 95
years and 6 months.
The father of the subject of this
sketch was the youngest child of Dea-
con p]leazer Blake, and was born in
Rindge, November 16, 1800. His oc-
cupation was that of a farmer and
carpenter. He was a man of sound
mind and sterling character. He al-
ways took a deep interest in public
affairs, and for many years held and
discharged with fidelity the office of
justice of the peace, and several town
offices. He died April 8, 1883, aged
83 years. He was admitted a member
of the Congregational church October
26, 1834.
The mother of the subject of this
sketch was the daughter of Amos and
Lydia Jewett, of Rindge. She was a
woman of superior endowments, a de-
voted wife and motlier, uniting exem-
plary Christian piety with an uncloud-
ed disposition and many excellences
of character. The light of her exam-
ple will long continue to shed its
cheerful rays around the pathway of
her surviving children. She was admit-
ted a member of the Congregational
church on the same date with her hus-
band — October 26, 1834. She died
November 10, 1874, aged 72 years.
The subject of our sketch attended
tlie common and select schools of his
native town, until, arriving at the age
of 17 years, he determined upon a
higher course of education and mental
training ; pursued a classical course
of studies, and tlie higher branches
and mathematics, at Mt. Csesar Sem-
inary, Swanzey, N. H., Green Moun-
tain Liberal Institute, Woodstock,
Vt., and at Appleton academy, New
Ipswich, N. H., until July, 1859,
when he was fitted to enter college a
year in advance, having taught sciiool
during each winter to procure the
means for pursuing his studies. Upon
leaving Appleton academy, he finally
concluded to abandon the idea of go-
ing to college, commenced the study
of law at Keene in the office of F. F.
Lane, and remained there until Feb-
ruary 28, 1861, when he entered the
office of D. H. Woodward, and was
admitted to the bar in April, 1862.
He commenced the practice of the
law at Fitzwilliam, July 13, 1863, and
has been in active practice of the law
ever since.
He was appointed assistant assessor
of internal revenue October 13, 1862,
and held the office until June, 1871.
Was elected representative to the
state legislature in 1872 and 1873,
servino; durins; both sessions of the
legislature on the Judiciary Commit-
tee. Was appointed state bank com-
missioner in 1876, 1S77, 1878, and
1879. Was appointed and served as
Major Waldron .
289
enumenitor for the town of Fitzwill- special studies. He is deeply versed
ifim of the tenth census of the United in geology and kindred sciences, hav-
8t:vtes, in June, 1880. Served as ing made a large collection of New
sui)eiintending school committee of lOngland minerals. He is a historical
Rindge for two years prior to his student, versed in antiquarian lore,
settlement in Fitzwilliani ; has also and an authority on local history and
served in that capacity for nine years genealogy. He attends the Congre-
in Fitzwilliam. Has served many gational church.
years as moderator of town-meetings, Mr. Blake, for a quarter of a cen-
and as supervisor of the Fitzwilliam tury, has been identified with the
town lilirary, and is now president of JVIasonic fraternity, having joined the
the Fitzwilliam Savings Bank ; and Social Friends Lodge, No. 42, at
has also held the office of selectman Keene, in 1862. He was dimitted to
of the town for several years. He the Monadnock Lodge, No. 80, in
was admitted to practice in the United Troy, in 1866. He has been very
States district court October 1, 1867. active in forwarding the History of
Mr. Blake lias been twice married, — Fitzwilliam, and has rendered valua-
first, to Miss Lizzie A. Howe, young- ble aid in its compilation. He is a
est daughter of Dennis and Lucy member of the New Hampshire His-
(Ball) Howe, of Jaffrey, and formerly torical Societ}'.
of Rindge, who died June 22, 1867, He has acted as administrator, ex-
leaving one son, who also died Sep- ecutor, trustee of estates of deceased
tember 8, 1867 ; married, second, Miss farmers, and guardian in a large num-
Flora E. Stone, eldest daughter of ber of cases. He is a life-long Repub-
Nathan and Mary Louisa (Miles) lican, and active in supporting his
Stone, of Fitzwilliam, and has one party at home and on the stump, in
son, Lerov Stanley Blake, born No- Fitzwilliam and neio-hborinsr towns,
vember 5, 1883. He has been engaged in several very
Mr. Blake, outside of his profes- important cases, and has the courage
sional reading, is interested in many to try them himself.
Port Gamble, Wash. Ter.,
July 2o, 1887.
Editor Granite Monthly: — Li
Mr. Sanborn's account of Gove's In-
surrection, he says Major Waldron
was killed by the Indians, whose anger
he had provoked in capturing some of
their tribe and selling them into sla-
very. Wiiere does Mr. S. find the
proof of this? Belknap says Otis
garrison was captured at the same
time, and Otis and several others
killed. In what manner had Otis
provoked them? Belknap further
says a vessel carried away a great
number of our surprised Indians in
the time of our wars to sell them for
slaves, but the nations whither they
went would not buy them. Finally
they were left at Tangiers, &c.
I think it is quite enough to accuse
my ancestor of sentencing Quaker
women to be whipped, without this
slavery business, unless we have the
proof. Yours truly,
WiNKiELD S. Jameson.
290
y antes 7. Fields.
JAMES T. FIELDS.— 1816-1881.
By Olive E. Dana.
There are three ways in which it is
possible for men and women to make
themselves felt in the world, and con-
tribute to the advancement, the cult-
ure, and the happiness of their gen-
eration. The first is through the in-
fluence of their individual or personal
lives. This influence is the most po-
tent, yet it has ordinarily the narrow-
est range. It is as much more cir-
cumscribed in its working than the
other two forces which make u[i the
sum of human influence and achieve-
ment, as it is more intense than either.
The second outgoino- of our nature is
of thought. This makes literature.
And whoever is heard and revered for
intellectual greatness and beneficence
may be no mean factor of reform and
progress. The third channel through
which we reach mankind lies through
the lives and works of others. It is
sometimes given to one to open the
way for others to grow and enrich
the world by his own insight or brav-
ery or unselfishness, or by his fulfil-
ment of some task which seems dis-
tinctiveh' his, a work often unseen
and unrewarded, to direct and give
impetus to streams whose fertilizing
influence shall be felt very widely
and graciously and long.
It was ha[)pily granted to James
T. F'ields to contribute to the world's
finest influences in all these ways. Yet
especially perhaps in that last men-
tioned his work and influence were
beneficent and noteworthy. vVs a
man, as an author, and more especial-
ly in his own peculiar province of
publisher, critic, lUeratetii\ and that
something added which includes in-
sight, wisdom, and far-reaching au-
thority in letters, his life is valuable
and significant. The story of that
life has been told by one nearest to
him, depicting all aspects of his char-
acter, and the various work that came
within the sphere of his alert dili-
gence.
The native city of Mr. Fields and
the home of his boyhood was Ports-
mouth. His mother, left with two lit-
tle sons by the death of her husband,
a ship-master, was, he was wont to
say, "• simi)ly the best and kindest of
mothers," and the associations of his
boyhood were as pure and safe as her
superlatively watchful care could make
them. His school-days seem to have
ended with the high school, and at
fourteen he went to Boston to become
clerk in a bookstore. His love for
Portsmouth was life-long. He often
returned thither, and with delight.
Ami indeed the old New England
city whicli was his mf)tlier town had
been generous with him, and had
nourished the Ijeginnings f)f a noble
and normal life, rich in the capacit}'
for joy, ill delicate perception and
hearty appreciation of life's good
things. In and around Portsmouth
were countless ways his feet had of-
ten trodden : journeys to Rye beach
and Dover made pleasant memories.
Here was nourished that delight in
'•the great book of nature" which
*■' remained his unchanged early love."
And his intellectual life, also, his
kindly mother city had not left unre-
membered. Its librai-y, the Atlie-
fames T. Fields.
291
uaeum, had a quiet nook for him,
where he made himself early acquaiut-
ed with its treasures.
Yet like most youth he was glad to
begin in Boston manhood's tasks.
Easily mastering the duties of his
position, with singular alertness and
intelligence, he advanced steadily,
betraying rare insight and ability.
He could tell what books would be
popular, and could divine, as a per-
son came into the store, what book
he wanted, and would produce it,
rarely mistaking. Other pleasant du-
ties and associations and refined
pleasures he had. He formed new
friendships, also, perhai)s chiefost of
which among the earlier ones was
that with Mr. lildwin P. AVhipple, af-
terward the distinguished essayist,
whose recent death brings into more
prominent notice his genius and his
notable work as critic and reviewer.
After the death of Mr. Fields, Mr.
Whipple contributed to the Atlantic
interesting recollections of his friend,
from which we quote briefly :
" My acquaintance with Fields be-
gan at the Boston Mercantile Library
Association, when we were boys of
eighteen or nineteen. It happened
that both of us were inflamed by a
passionate love of literature, and by
a cordial admiration of men of let-
ters ; that we had read — of course
superficially — most of the leading
poets and prose-writers of Great
Britain, and had a tolerably correct
idea of their chronological succession.
One of the most notable facts in the
lives of clerks with literary tastes and
moderate salaries is the mysterious
way in which they contrive to collect
books. Among the members of the
Mercantile Library Association, Thom-
as R. Gould (now known as one of
the most eminent of American sculp-
tors), F'ields, and myself, had vphat
we called libraries before we were
twenty-one. Gould was a clerk in a
dry goods jobbing-house. Fields in a
bookstore, I in a broker's office.
F'ields's colle(;tion much exceeded
Gould's and mine, for he had in his
room two or three hundred volumes,
the nucleus of a library which event-
ually became one of the choicest pri-
vate collections of books, manuscripts,
and autographs in the city."
It is to this friend that Mr. Fields
seems to have dedicated a small vol-
ume of his poems, privately printed,
entitled " A Few Verses for a Few
Friends." It must be to this volume
of poems that the poet Whittier refers
in his lines "To J. T. F." This
early friendship is made the more
memorable and significant bv the not
dissimilar life-work of these friends.
To Mr. Whipple, in the funeral eulo-
gy of his friend. Dr. Bartol, was ac-
corded the distinction of being "a
man than whom none speaking the
English tongue has done more in our
generation to keep the genius of others
fresh in our recollections and bright
in our eyes."
In 1845 Mr. Fields became a part-
ner in the store where he had for so
many years been a clerk, " the Old
Corner Book-Store," at the corner of
School and Washington streets. For
many years he stood at the head of
this growing and increasingly influen-
tial publishing house. It held, from
the first, a unique })osition, and ex-
erted a singular authority in New
England letters. It was a rallying-
place for authors, and its prestige
and its patronage must often have
292
yanics T. Fields.
inspired, as well as clothed in comely
shapes of printed paper and leather
and cloth, the creations of poets and
romancers and thinkers. "The ger-
minating root," says one who " wit-
nessed its rise and progress," was
" in the brain of Fields." " He was
the genius loci" sa^'s another, the
controlling, guiding, inspiring force.
So modestly was won and kept this
position, that the historians of our
literature may hardly recognize its
potency in fostering and shaping
New England letters, and in vindica-
ting — when it was needful, as at that
time it was in a measure necessary —
their claim to a place in the world's
literatuie. But the most eminent of
our authors have been readiest to do
so. Whipple, Whittier, Holmes, Em-
erson, Lowell, by affectionate inscrip-
tions of their works, by the allusions
of their songs, by their estimate of
his work, as well as by their tributes
when his ears were closed in death,
declare the place and power they felt
was his. He is portrayed in the
" Tent on the Beach," one of
"Three friends, the guests of summer-time, who
Pitched their white tent where sea-winds blew:
One, with his beard scarce silvered, bore
A ready credence in his looks,
A lettered magnate, lording o'er
An ever widening realm 01 books.
In him brain-currents, near and far,
Converged as in a leaden jar;
The old dead autliors thronged him round about,
And Elzevir's gray ghosts from leathein graves
looked out.
" He knew each living pundit well.
Could weigh th(i gilts of him or her.
And well tlip market value tell
Of poet and philosopher.
And if he lost, tlie scenes behind
Somewliat of reverence vague and blind.
Finding the actors human at the best,
No readier lips than Ids the good he saw confessed.
" His boyhood fancies not outgrown,
He loved himself tlie singer's art;
Tenderly, gently, by his own,
He knew and judged an author's heart.
No Rhadamanthine brow of doom.
Bowed the dazed pedant from his room;
And bards whose name is legion, if denied.
Bore off alike intact their verses and their pride.
" Pleasant it was to roam about
The lettered world as he had done.
And see the lords of song without
Their singing robes and garlands on:
With Wordsworth paddle Kydal Mere,
Taste rugged Elliott's home-brewed beer.
And with the ear of Rogers, at four score.
Hear Garrick's buskined tread and Walpole's wit
once more."
This, however, was written in 1867,
a score of years later than this period
of his life of which we are now writ-
ing. In 1847, after the death of
Mary Willard, his betrothed, he sail-
ed for Europe. This journey was the
first of several European trips, some
of them extended ones, and during
this visit he formed the beginning of
many friendships with trans-Atlantic
authors, — men and women wliose
names ai-e household words, — some
of them belonging to an older gener-
ation, and indeed to an earlier period
of English liteiature. He became the
friend of and was entertained by
Bryan W. Procter (Barry Cornwall),
William and Mary Howitt, Mr. and
Mrs. John S. C. Hall, Mr. John Ken-
yon, and others, all of whom became
his life-long friends. There, too, be-
gan his long, intimate acquaintance
with Miss Mary R. Mitford, a friend-
ship whose pleasant privileges he so
l)leasantly shares with us in his rec-
ollections of the author of " Our Vil-
lage." He visited the home and bur-
ial-place of Sir Walter Scott, — "a
spot," he said, " no change can ever
wipe from my memory."
In 1850 he married a younger sis-
ter of Mary Willard, his lost love.
She died, however, within two years
after their marriage.
Meantime he was rising into fame
'James T. Fields.
293
as an eminently successful and saga-
cious publislier, tbe friend of the most
eminent at liome and abroad, an able
student of belles-lettres, and a distin-
guished literateur and traveller. " His
correspondence at this period," writes
his biographer, " includes almost
without exception all the men and
women of any literary note in Amer-
ica."
In November, 1854, James T.
Fields married Miss Annie Adams.
It is recorded that " when at last the
doors of home opened to him, he en-
tered reverently, and with a tender-
ness which grew only with the years."
This home was one of many charms
and of singular attractiveness. Here
this always genial man was at his
best. His library — of ten thousand
or more volumes — was overrunning
with choice editions, manuscripts,
portraits, and mementoes. An "au-
thor's chamber" in the fourth story,
with a study adjoining, sheltered
from time to time Hawthorne, Whit-
tier, and Charles Sumner, Dickens,
McDonald, Thackeray, and Kingsley,
besides many others. In after years
he built a summer home at Manches-
ter-by-the-sea.
Writing and publishing from his
youth, — though always perhaps with
a too modest estimate of his own
abilitv, and with a singular reticence
consideiing his own admirable and
delightful style, and the wealth of ma-
terial which his study, his travels, his
observations, and his friendship had
united in furnishing him, — Mr. Fields
was also winning distinction as an au-
thor, both here and beyond seas. We
have many books edited wholly or in
part by him, and several volumes,
though far too f ew,of his own writings.
It is not unlikely that other collections
might be made of the more fragmen-
tary writings he published in maga-
zines and newspapers, which would be
sure of interested readers.
Kctii'ing from the publishing house
in 1870, Mr. Fields gave the best of
his last years to the preparation and
delivery of lectures, most of them on
subjects related to English literature.
He was in great demand as a lecturer,
East a'nd West, and the work he did
in this way must have given him
peculiar satisfaction, for it was one
of peculiar importance and benefi-
cence.
Doubtless it was the personality of
the speaker, so potent, so notable, so
gracious and kindly, so winning and
inspiring, that constituted the chief
element in their influence upon all
classes. For both the learned and
the unlearned, young students and
illiterate farmers, in cultured cities,
popular academies, and raw villages,
owned the persuasive charm of his
presence and speech, and acknowl-
edged their debt to him. As neces-
sary to the race as its Shakespeares
and Emersons, its Miltons and Spen-
sers, its Dantes and Words worths, are
the men, as great in heart and soul as
they, it may be, who bring the truths
these teach to the apprehension of the
people who would otherwise fail of
recognizing their heritage of thought.
In the realm of intellect there can
hardlv be a higher work than of such
a teacher. It is a work which Mr.
Fields well began, for the reading
public, in his "Yesterdays with Au-
thors," and certain papers in his
"Underbrush." " Began," I say, for
certainly these volumes, beside what
he might have done had other years
294
Cmn^as^e.
been granted him, are only as a me- which required the expenditure of a
raorial. good deal of time."
I have hardly left space to speak Mr. Fields's sympathy with young
of Mr. Fields as a friend, or of his people was very marked and notice-
personal character and influence. His able. He was a favorite contributor
seems to have been a life of notable to the Youth's Companion^ and the
purity, of singular generosity, of un- articles thus printed were very pleas-
ostentatious yet abounding benevo- antly characteristic of the man and
lence. "From the first," we read, the author.
" he was sufficient not only to take His religious feeling and purpose
care of himself but others, and, as seem to have been deep, vv^arm, and
is universally the case with such nat- earnest. One entry (on a Sabbath)
ures, there were needs enough, pre- in his journal, betrays most signifi-
seuted early and always continued, to cantly and tenderly the undercurrent
absorb a large portion of whatever of the life men knew,
might be his." The cheerfulness of His was a life in which were hap-
whatever benefaction or kindness pily blended earnestness and gener-
dropped from his hand, his own un- osity, single-heartedness and open-
mindfulness of it forever after, his heartedness, diligence and cheerful-
seeming joy in giving, were a rare grace ness. His devotion to his chosen
and charm. He used to take exquisite work is an inspiration, yet it is not
pleasure, while once in London, in sur- without its pathos, the more that so
prising some hungry gamin with a sup- much he did so toilsomely is lost in
per at some convenient stall, where others' labors and successes. Yet
as would often happen Fields was re- perhaps the true dignit}' and glory of
turning after some evening's pleasure his life lies in this fact, as if his dili-
on foot to his lodgings. And at gent zeal, his devoted work, were in-
home, at his place of business, in his deed accepted and used in the intel-
intercourse with his hosts of friends lectual life and progress of the age,
and acquaintances, and with stran- with perhaps a deeper, wider, and
gers, he "was continually doing," more gracious potenc}' than he ever
said Mr. Whipple, " kindly acts knew.
CAMPASPE.
By C. Jennie Swaine.
The monarch had heard Appeles' name.
For the speaking canvas had told his fame.
" Though thy touch be as magic," he softly said,
"And thy palette with rainbow hues is fed.
Though true to thy dream of Madonna and Saint,
Yet Campaspe's beauty thou canst not paint."
But Appeles said, " From the living streams
Of beauty my spirit has quaffed in dreams,
Campaspe. 295
And to visions of loveliness fairer than earth
My brush and my canvas have given birth.
With the laurel's evergreen wreath on ray brow,
My boasted art shall not fail me now."
" Try not thy skill — it is sure to fail ; /
The roses' red flush to her cheek is pale,
And the violet's tender and liquid hue,
Aglow in the sunshine, agleam in the dew,
Nor the soft, sweet blue of the summer skies,
Can match with their brightness her azure eyes."
Oampaspe sat in the softened light :
She lifted her hand, like a lily white,
And the loosened veil from her head-dress fell.
And her beauty fell o'er him like a spell,
While the hand on the canvas left no trace.
As she mocked his art with her ano;el face.
Campaspe her dewy eyes upraised.
And on Appeles she fondly gazed.
She had worshipped him long through his wondrous art ;
And she said to her wildlv throbbing heart, —
" Embodied before me my dream appears ;"
And the drooping eyelids veiled their tears.
On his knees Appeles breathed her name,
And burning words to his white lips came,
While the king's fair daughter, with smile and tear,
His passionate wooing bowed low to hear,
Till her cheek touched his lip, and kingdom and crown
By the spell of Love laid their barriers down.
Weary with waiting, the noble king
Bade his attendants Appeles bring.
"If thy work is done, the reward is thine."
"Though my hand be skilled and my art divine,"
Appeles said, "yet I cannot trace
A single line of so fair a face.
"Her wonderful beauty has maddened me.
I know my fate, and it sweet shall be.
For better is death than life," he cried :
But with tears in his voice the king replied,
"Campaspe has loved thee well and long.
And her cheek lost its bloom and her voice its song;.
Take her, and Love on thy heart shall trace,
In deathless beauty, her angel face."
296
Windham, N. H.
WINDHAM, N. H.— Chapter 6.
By Hon. Leonard A. Morrison, Author of " History of the Morrison Family""
AND " History of Windham, N. H."
BIOGRAVHIE^.
David Gregg^ was one of the earli-
est settlers of Wiudham. He was
born in Londonderry, Ireland, in
1685, and was the son of John Gregg, '^
who was born there in 1665, and who
was killed by the Catholics about
1689. This John Gregg was son of
David Gregg, ^ who was born in Ar-
gyleshire, Scotland, was a captain
under Cromwell in 1655, and aided
in subjugating the rebellious Irish,
and subsequently settled near Lon-
donderry, Ireland. Was a tanner,
and proprietor of thirty acres of land.
He was finally murdered by the Irish
in 1689.
David Gregg^ of Windham married,
in Ireland, Mary, daughter of Capt.
Thomas Nevins of London. He came
to Watertown, Mass., in 1712. lived
there nine years, and then bought a
large tract in Windham (then Lon-
donderry), in November, 1721. This
was then a wildei-ness abounding in
wild beasts. The old cellar over
which his house stood can still be
seen. He was a Protestant and a
devout Christian. His mind was
strong, combined with decision of
character, and he died at an advanced
age. He was of gigantic stature,
his weight was 340 pounds, and he
possessed marvellous strength. He
could lift 1,200 pounds with ease.
His son
William Gregg,* was born in 1705,
in Londonderry, Ireland. He mar-
ried Elizabeth Kyle, of Scotch blood,
who possessed great personal beau-
ty. Her husband was a great hunter,
and made noted inroads upon the
catamounts, bears, wolves, and deer
which abounded in the unbroken for-
ests. He was a leading citizen, and
often held offices of trust, both polit-
ical and religious. Was noted for his
piety and great memory. He was
resolute in purpose, and adhered to
his convictions with the pertinacity of
the Scotch covenanter. He was well
educated for his time. Though he
left Ireland when eight years of age,
yet he could describe with great mi-
nuteness the old city of Londonderry,
with its walls and fortifications. He
could describe the streets as he saw
them in his boyhood, and would re-
late what he had seen and heard of
the extreme distress growing out of
tiie celebrated defence of the city ;
distress so great and the gnawings of
hunger so keen that rats were food
and had a market price. He died in
1797, in his 92d year.
Jolin Cochran was of unadulterated
Scotch blood, was the son of John
and ILlizabeth (Arwin) Cochran, of
Londonderry, Ireland, where he was
born in 1704. His father shared with
his Scotch countrymen in the glorious
defence of the city against the Cath-
olics in 1688-89. Young Cochran
came to New Hampshire in 1720, and
in 1730 located on a swell of land in
East Windham, which remains to this
day in possession of descendants. It
was at that time a wilderness, and he
displayed the usual amount of endur-
Windham, N. H.
297
ance of the pioneer. He was a lead-
ing and respected citizen. He mar-
ried Jenny McKeen,of Londonderry.
Tlieir married life was long and
pleasant, and they sleep side by side
in the " Cemetery on the Hill." They
are the ancestors of the Cochrans of
Windham, and of Rev. W. R. Coch-
rane, historian of Antrim, N. H.
James Betton was born in Scotland
in 1727-'28. He came to Windham
about 1753, and died March 18, 1803.
He settled in the north part of the
town, and was a very active, popular,
and influential citizen. He was for
the time well educated ; was an auc-
tioneer, surveyor, and justice of the
peace. He filled all the prominent
positions in town, and was in 1777 an
agent from the state of New Hamp-
shire to the seat of the national gov-
ernment at Baltimore, and brought to
New England a large amount of
money with which to prosecute the
Revolutionary war. He was the fa-
ther of Hon. Silas Betton, who was
born in Windham, Aug. 26, 1767.
He graduated at Dartmouth college
in 1787. Was a member of the house
and state senate several years, mem-
ber of congress from 1803 to 1807,
and high sheriff of Rockingham coun-
ty from 1813 to 1819.
Lieut. Samuel Morison'^ was born
in Ireland, at or near Londonderry,
He was of Scotch blood, and his
parents were C/mrier James Morisou,^
of Londonderry, N. H., and Mary
Wallace. His grandfather, John Mor-
ison,^ was born in Scotland, and emi-
grated to Ireland previous to 1688,
and resided at or near Londonderry.
He and his sons and family were of
the number of Scotch Protestants
who during the famous siege and de-
fence of that city in 1688-'89 were by
the inhuman order of Gen. Conrad de
Rosen, the French commander, driv-
en beneath tiie walls of the city, suf-
fering the pangs of starvation, and
exposed to the missiles of death from
the besieged and besiegers. They
suivived, and were admitted into the
city. He died in Londonderry, N.
H., in 1736.
Lieut. Samuel Morison came to
Londonderry, N. H., when a lad of
15 years. He located in Windham
about 1730, and his home farm is
still in possession of a descendant,
its bounds unchanged. He is the an-
cestor of the Morisons of Windham.
He was well educated in Ireland, and
became an influential man in this set-
tlement. He presided in the first
town-meeting, and in thirty subse-
quent meetings of the free-holders,
the last time in 1775. It may be of
interest to state that the person who
acted as moderator at the last annual
meeting is a great-grandson of Sam-
uel Morison, who acted as moderator
of the first annual meeting 141 years
ago. He was a member of the first
board of selectmen, and acted in that
capactity for seven years, and was
clerk for four years. His intellectual
power was robust and strong. His
mind was broad, and his heart sensi-
tive to the calls of the needy and un-
fortunate. He was noted for his
piety, and was held in the highest es-
teem. He was a lieutenant in a Mas-
sachusetts regiment, at Fort Cumber-
land. N. S., in 1760.
He was a rigid Presbyterian, and
was an elder in that church. In the
town records he is alluded to as
298 Whitefield.
"Samuel Morison, Gent," also in acres. He was the ancestor of the
many deeds. He was much engaged Campbells of Windham, of Hon.
in public business. He married Mar- Charles H. Campbell of Nashua, and
tha, daughter of Samuel Allison, of of James Madison Campbell, late of
Londonderi-y. She was born March Manchester.
31, 1720, and was the first female
child of European extraction born in John Dinsmoor, son of John Dins-
that town. She died Dec. 3, 1761. moor of Scotland, came to London-
He died Feb. 11, 1776, and in the derry in 1723, and is ancestor of the
cemetery overlooking the bright Dinsmoors here. His house was in
sparkling waters of Cobbett's pond Londonderry, the front door-stone
they sleep their last sleep. being on the line between Windham
and Londonderry. He died in 1741.
Henry Campbell was here in 1733. His grandson, William Dinsmoor, was
He was born in Londonderry, Ireland, a man of parts, and possessed quite
in 1697, and married Martha Black a poetical gift. The latter was fa-
in 1717. He was son of Daniel ther of the elder Gov. Samuel Dins-
Campbell, born in 1660 at Argyle, moor of Keene, of Robert Dinsmoor
Scotland. He located in the west (the " rustic bard "), and an uncle of
side of the town, and his descendants Col. Silas Dinsmoor, the noted Ind-
live to this day upon the ancestral ian agent.
WHITEFIELD.
Extract from an Unpublished History.
By Levi W. Dodge.
Error as to the spelling of the name ignorance of the oiigin and true ap-
of the town crept in early, and this plication of the title,
has given rise to doubts expressed by To call it " Whitefields" in 1774
some as to the origin of the title ; would have been a misnomer, as there
or, — as there is a reason for every was no place for a field of white
established fact, — its why and its throughout all the dark evergreen
wherefore. It is true that in the wilderness within its borders. No
original grant, as copied, the name intervales existed suggestive of what
has a plural ending, and also many might become white fields by a sum-
times thus appears in some of the mer's product of daisies or a winter's
earlier records ; but it was clearly, as burden of snow. Black forests every
we think, on account of a clerical where abounded, save upon the high-
lapSHs pennoi, or extravagant end- lands thickly covered with the decid-
ing of the cl in the original petition, uous growth,
or subsequent use of the name, and The writer has in his possession
W/nieficld.
299
several musty doeuments relating to
the early affairs of the town, of dates
from 1774 to 1802, and in most cases
the name is spelled without the plural
ending. One of these is a deed from
one Stephen Cogan, conveying the
" right of huid in townslii[) of White-
Jield, so called, being the same I pur-
chased of Timothy Nash." This
Nash was one of the original gran-
tees, only two of whom ever resided
in the vicinity ; he settled about 1764
upon the Connecticut, in the present
town of Lunenburg, and doubtless
knew that the land he was granted,
and which he was reconveying, lay
in Whitetield without an s.
There were then, we believe, but
three towns in all New Hampshire
whose titles were not sugiyested bv
the parties interested, either from the
names of older places, or in memory
or in honor of individuals or families.
Nor is Whitefield the only one that lias
borne a miss-spelled title or misinter-
pretation. Bretton Woods, now Car-
roll, on our southern border, was
originally granted to Sir Thos. Went-
worth, Bart., and others. The coun-
try seat of Sir Thomas was known as
"Bretton llall," at Bretton, P:ng-
land. Gov. Wentworth designed to
name this new wild grant after the
English counti'V home of his kinsman,
and so called it " Bretton Woods;"
but a careless clerk dotted the e, and
Britton Woods it became.
" Lloyd Hills," now Bethlehem, is
spelled in Willey's ''Early History of
the White Mountains" Lord's Hill,
and it was thus known by the first
settlers, which may have suggested
the present title. The suggestion for
the original name of the grant was
clearly this. About twenty thousand
acres of the township were patented
to one Joseph Loring, whose wife
was a daughter of Rev. Henry Lloyd,
at one time a contractor for the royal ^
army. They followed Gov. Went-
worth into exile in 177G, being both
firm supporters of tiie King's cause,
and were accordingly prosd\-il)ed and
banished by the act of 1788. Lloyd
died in London in 179G, and Loring
in 1789, al«o in fCngland.
The Lorings had one son born to
them, in Dorchester, Mass., who took
the name of John Wentworth Loring,
by the pleasure of the provincial gov-
ernor of New Hampshire, and this
young scion of the house of Loring
would have been the heir presumptive
to his father's Lloyd Hills estate had
it not been forfeited by acts of dis-
loyalty. Thus did Gov. Wentworth
think to perpetuate the name of iiis
friend l)y a grant of a township to the
family, and by the attachment of the
family name to the township.
The addition of the plural s to
Whitefield was no stranger error than
has occurred in that of the spelling of
sevei'al otlier towns. The petitioners
for those grants, as is well known,
were not well versed in orthography,
especially of proper nouns, and fre-
quently wrote their own individual
names with amazing incorrectness.
Swansey, in its early records, was
sometimes written with an s, and at
other times with a 2, when in fact it
was named for that old Welsh town
Swansea — a greater error by far than
an s to Whitefield. Stewartstown
was granted to John Stuart and oth-
ers of London, and was named
Stuarttown, an obvious derivation ;
it was first incorporated Stuart, but
afterwards changed to its present ren-
300
White-field.
dering. The first name of Stark was
Percey, from Thomas Percey, at that
time chaplain to the king ; but in the
act of incorporation an evident cleri-
cal error occurred of introducing an
i, and thus was it put on record —
Piercy.
The p^itioners in the case of the
town of Windsor asked to be incor-
porated by the name of Winsor ; but
during the passage of the act a d was
inserted, and thus it is.
In relation to the present town of
"Wolfeborough : In the Journal of the
House it is Wolfsborough ; and in
the council records the / is omitted.
Which is the right?
The town of Plaistow was incor-
porated witiiout the use of the i —
Plastow. The present spelling is
probably without authority.
When, in 1804, the pioneers of
"Whitefield petitioned the general
court to be incorporated as a town,
with intent to settle any complications
that might arise from the dual orthog-
raphy, and to inform the rest of the
world that Whitefield was the proper
and desired title, they asked to have
the insinuating s forever dropped
from its name, which was accorded
Dec. 1, 1804.
The idea has always prevailed
among those interested, and the
writer has no doubt it was the inten-
tion of tiie grantor, either in accord-
ance with his own or the expi'essed
wishes of some of those upon whom
this grant was bestowed, that the
name thereof was to commemorate
that of the Rev. George AVhitefield,
the light of whose life had been but
recently extinguished, and whose
name was even then a household
word throughout all New England.
It is a fact that he was a welcome
guest at the Wentworth mansion, and
that the governor held the itinerat-
ing ecclesiastic in high esteem, al-
though he was proselyting followers
from the established church. The
last week of the great preacher's life
was passed in New Hampshire, dur-
ing which he preached four of his
unique sermons, delivered in the open
air, for there was no church large
enough to hold the crowds who came
to see and hear him ; and, in fact,
many of the houses of Sabbath wor-
ship were closed against him.
His last discourse was at Exeter,
the day before his death, where, in
God's free, vast temple, he preached
for two long hours to a crowd of in-
terested listeners. At Newbury port,
upon the following day, was his next
appointment ; but during the night
he was seized with an asthmatic par-
oxysm, of which he died suddenly, in
his 56th 3'ear.
Mr. Whitefield was born in Glouces-
ter, England. He took the degree
of A. B. from Pembroke college,
and was ordained in 1736 by the
bishop of Gloucester, and in 1740
was admitted to pi-iestly orders. He
made seven different voyages between
England and America, always in the
cause of religion and humanity. It
was said of him that " no clergyman
ever possessed the powers of oratory
in a -higher degree, or led a more
useful or virtuous life."
Upon the day of his death, Sept.
30, 1770, all the bells of Portsmouth
tolled from 11 o'clock till sunset.
The house where Whitefield died is
still standing upon School street in
Newburyport. and is pointed out to
visitors as one of the objects of inter-
Origin and Meaning of Profer Names.
301
■est in that historic old town. The by, and a cenotaph placed above the
•church beneath whose sanctuary lie dead by an eminent friend of the
the ashes of this founder of the C"al- ardent j)reacher tells the story of his
vinistic order of Methodists is hard life, labors, and virtues.
ORIGIN AND MEANING OF PROPER NAMES.
By Edwin D. Sanborn, LL. D.
A man without a name is as near
nobody as we can well imagine. If
lie does anything, says anything, or
•even thinks anything worthy of note,
he will be observed and named from
his prominent characteristics. '■'Sine
nomine homo non est," says a Latin
proverb. From the beginning, there-
fore, men have always borne at least
■one significant name. " The first man
is of the earth earthy." Adam took
his name from the earth, of which he
was formed. The Hebrew word means
"red earth." The Latin ''homo" is
dissociated with "humus," and with
the Roman's " humilis," humble,
meant lowly, of the earth. These
names point to man's origin — from
the dust.
Proper names designate individuals.
Originally men had but one name, as
Adam, David, Niuus, Cyrus, Socrates,
Plato, Cicero, Cato, Paul, and .John.
Names were generally imposed to in-
dicate some quality or attribute of the
infant or some circumstance attend-
ing his birth. The Jews named their
children eight days after birth. The
Romans named their daughters imme-
diately after birth ; their sons on the
ninth day, and held a feast called
'"'•nominalia." The Greeks usually
naraed their children on the tenth day
after birth, and consecrated the day
to sacrifices and feasting.
Hebrew names very often were his-
torical. Moses means " drawn out of
the water;" Isaac means "laughter,"
referring to the levity of the mother
when his birth was announced by
the angel. Another parent named
her child Gad, for she said "A
troop cometh." David was the "well
beloved," the youngest and the hope
of the house, the flower of the familv.
The dying Rachel named her infant
" Benoni," the son of ray sorrow ; but
Jacob called him "Benjamin," the
son of my strength. Other children
were named from peculiarities of form,
features, or complexion. The Greeks
and Romans were careful to impose
upon persons and places names of
good omen. With the Romans such
names as Victor, Castor, Faustus, and
Probus were called " bona nomina,"
or " fausta nomina." Tiiey sought
men with good names to offer their
sacrifices, found colonies, and lead
armies." Hence the proverb, " Bo-
num nomen, bonum omeu." The fair
sounding name was a presumption of
success. With the Greeks warlike
terms are often incorporated in the
names of their heroes.
Here we mav ask. Did the name
302
Origin and Meaning of Prefer Names.
imposed in infancy determine the pur- zen, Polycletes the sculptor, Diogenes
suits of the adult? or, Were the par- the cynic, and Nero the tyrant. These
ents so confident of the powers of their are very convenient epithets to indi-
sons as to anticipate their history, and
name them by way of prolepsis? The
word -iVf-ziiMq., war, derived by some
from -dknz. much, and 'a;,".'/, blood,
appears in many a warrior's name, as
Tlepolemus and Archepolemus. Tiie
words /M/'^i, battle, and v"^?, mind,
and other words indicating strength,
speed, glory, and counsel, often con-
stituted elements in the names of illus-
trious men. When tliese names, sig-
nificant of future renown, were given.
cate the person referred to. The
Greeks used patronymics ending in
ides and ades to designate sons, as
Prianides the son of Priam, Atlauti-
ades, the son or descendant of Atlas.
The termination "ing" in Anglo-
Saxon is equivalent to '•'•tdrj^" in
Greek, Ea,dgaring=:the son of Ed-
gar ; Eadbehrt Eadgaring^Edbert
Edgarson. Possibly Bering, Brown-
ing, and Whiting may be equivalent
to dear, brown, and white darling ;
the parents were wont to pray that and darling is from deor — dear and
ling — condition. The Russians affix
''witz," the Poles "sky," to the fa-
ther's name to indicate what we mean
by son, as Paulowitzz^Paul's son ; Pe-
trowskv=Petersou. From the Welch
those that bore them might deserve
the title. When Grunthram, king of
France, named Clotharius at the fort,
he said, " Crescat puer et punjus sit
nominis executor." So the Roman
emperors Severus, Probus, and Aure- prefix "Ap," meaning sou, as Ap-
lius are called "sui nominis impera-
tores." They were rightly named.
They fulfilled their destiny as it was
foreshadowed at their christening.
Those names which denoted per-
sonal defects or deformities, as //">-
-oc, eagle-nose, or "Flaccus," flap-
eared, must have been given as sobri-
quets ; but such names as IiaXAt/j-oxoc,
renowned for victory, or 'E'/spylrrj-:, a
benefactor, seem to have been given
to infants.
As men multiplied, there was need
of more names to distinguish one
from another. The most obvious dis-
tinction would be the use of the fa-
ther's name with the son's ; next, the
place of residence, office, or employ-
ment. Patronymics in the most sim-
ple form are written in full, as Ixapoq
Tiiu Aai(h/jiu, or Solomon the son of
David. We also read of Dionysius
of Halicarnassus, Gregory, Nazian-
4
Richard, Ap-Rice, we have Pritchard
and Price. A still stranger corrup-
tion is that of Peter Gower, from
Pythagoras (French — Pythagore), or
Benjamin P2aton, from the Spanish
"Benito," Latin Benedictus.
The Romans were more prodigal of
names than the Greeks. They fre-
quently used three names, and some-
times four, to describe a single per-
son. Cicero's gentile name was Tul-
lius, his whole name Marcus Tullius
Gicero. The last was called the cog-
nomen : the first distinguished the in-
dividual who bore it from other mem-
bers of his gens or house. The whole
republic was divided into gentes or
houses, and these were subdivided
into familite or families. According-
ly several distinguished families might
belong to the same gens. This term
may have denoted consanguinity at its
origin, but in process of time it be
Origin and j\fcaiii)ig' of Proj)cr JVames.
303
came the name of an association hav-
ing common religious rites.
Some illustrious men received addi-
tional names or titles from the coun-
tries they conquered or the victories
they won, as Africanus, Asiaticus,
Torquatus. In familiar address the
prse nomen was used. Horace says,
"gaudent praenomine molles Auricu-
lae." So with us, lovers, parents, and
boon companions use the Christian
name or a diraintitive of it.
There is probably a difference in
meaning between sirnarae and sur-
name. Sir, or Sire, is an abbrevia-
tion of seigneur : hence sirname or
si rename is simply the father's name
added, as Mac Allan, Fitz Herbert,
and Ap-JCvan are sireuames meaning
the son of Allan, Herbert, and Evan.
All nations resort to this usage. The
Highland Scotch and Irish use Mac
for son, as Mac Neil. The Irish also
prefix 'S<r/' orO', meaning grandson,
as O'Hara, O'Neale. O' and Mack
now are common Irish prefixes, which
is indicated in the following humorous
stanza :
" By Mac and O
You '11 always know
True Irishmen, they say ;
For if they lack
Both O and Mac,
No Irishmen are they."
Titles among the ancients were fre-
quently mistaken for proper names, as
Cyrus in Persia, Pharaoh in Egypt,
Lucumo in Etruria, Brennus in Gaul,
and Coesar in Rome. Possibly these
appellations may have belonged to
individuals at first, who, owing to
their distinction, transmitted their
names, with tlieir honors, to their
successors. So the first twelve Ro-
man emperors were called Ctesars
from the first, who gave his cognomen
to the oilice he created. So the em-
peror of Russia is still styled the
"czar," probably from the recollec-
tions of the Roman imperial title.
Some modern critics, I am aware, lind
the origin of that word in the Russian
tongue. Several of the royal families
of England and Europe can trace their
names to a more inolorious origin.
Such are the ro^'al lines of Plantage-
net, Tudor, Steward or Stuart, Valois,
Bourbon, Oldenburg, and Hapsburg.
The Medici of F'lorence, the city of
flowers, it is said, derive their name
from the profession of the founder of
that illustrious house. He was a piiy-
sician, '•'medicus •/' and his descend-
ants becoming bankers and brokers,
adopted the three golden balls as their
sign to indicate that their founder was
a maker and vender of jnlls^ or a Doc-
tor of Medicine.
Surnames are over names, because,
as Du Cange says, ''They were at
first written not in a direct line afler
the Christian name, but above it be-
tioeeii the lines ;" and hence they were
called in Latin supra uomina ; in Ital-
ian, supra uome ; in French, suriioms,
over-names. When the feudal sys-
tem declined, and the undistinguished
and undistinguishable serfs began to
emerge into that political body called
the nation, subject to enrolment and
taxation, every individual must then
have " a local habitation and a name,"
however much his social and polit-
ical rights might hitherto have resem-
bled "airy nothings." As late as the
fifteenth century the king of Poland
persuaded his barbarian subjects to
adopt Christianity as their national
religion. The nobles and warriors
were baptized separately : the multi-
tude were divided into companies, and
304
Origin and Meaning of Prober Names.
a single name and a single baptism
sufficed for each company. But such
parsimony in hoi}' water and Christian
names did not long answer the de-
mands of the times. Whoever was
distinguished in body, mind, or estate
had a name. — a surname, — given him
to apprise the world of his superiority.
Surnames existed among the Anglo-
Saxons : they came into general use
under the Normans. Before the con-
quest patronymics were often formed
by appending to the father's name the
word son, as Richardson, Johnson,
Jackson, Willson, &c. The oldest
surnames in Domesday-Book are tak-
en from places or estates, as Godfre-
dius de Mannevilla, Walterus de Ver-
non, and Robertus de Oily. Others
were derived from their fathers, as
Guhelmus, filius Osberni ; others were
taken from offices, as Eudo, Dapifer,
Guhelmus Camerarius or Gislebertus,
Cocus. Many common people have
no surnames. These were regarded
as a luxury, and could be enjoyed
only by the rich and nobles. Once a
single name was deemed sufficient for
the mightiest conqueror. To assign
any additional name to Alexander,
Cyrus, Caesar, or Alfred would de-
tract from their fame. Now it requires
a fair degree of culture and a good
memory for a young princess to recite
and spell her own names. Kings are
generally known by one name, though
they enjoy in private half a dozen. It
deserves notice, that men who affect
greatness bolster themselves up with
names and titles just in proportion as
they are deficient in native endow-
ments and moral qualifications. In
speaking of the truly great men of
our own country we say Washington,
Webster, or Clay, without even prefix-
ing a mister or an honorable. Some-
times we use the Christian name to
indicate a familiar household rever-
ence for our patriots, and say Patrick
Henry, James Otis, John Adams, or
John Hancock. If we wish to be
peculiarly respectful, we prefix an ad-
jective, as old Sam Adams, old John
Adams, or old Tom Jefferson ; but
when we come to our village worthies,
whose greatness is nominal and offi-
cial, we use freely tbe titles of presi-
dent, judge, colonel, general, honora-
ble, and esquire.
The Anglo-Saxons are a conquering
people, and yet they are the greatest
promoters of the arts of peace. They
have inherited their personal inde-
pendence, their hatred of oppression,
their aggressive spirit, their love of
adventure, and their fondness for mil-
itary titles from their earliest ances-
tors.
The Germans derived their national
appellation from their warlike habits.
The word German is from "ger," a
spear, and '-mann," a man, signify-
ing " si)earman." Others derive it
from an old root meaning war : hence
tlie whole word would indicate a hero.
This name, as Tacitus informs us, was
chosen by themselves to inspire terror
in their enemies. They called them-
selves '•'•wQirmen" or fighters by pro-
fession, to alarm their foes. They are
also called the Teutonic race. This
epithet is derived from their founder,
who doubtless was a hero — a slayer
of men and a destroyer of cities. Tac-
itus says the Germans worshipped
Tuisco, or Tuisto, and his son Man-
nus, as the origin and founders of their
race. The god and his offspring
'■'■mem" are here associated. Their
tradition ascends not above the name
Origin and Meaning of Proper Names.
305
and fame of their first hero. He re-
ceived divine honors. The day on
which Tuisco was specially honored
was named Tuesday, and the people
who paid him divine honors were
called "■Teutones," whence we ob-
tain the modern words Teutsch and
Dutch, Teutonic and Germanic ; there-
fore are the sacred and military names
of the same people both derived from
hei-oes.
The same race are sometimes called
Goths. This word means brave or
good in war, as among all early na-
tions valor is equivalent to goodness.
The bravest fighter was the best man :
so among our ancestors Goth, Gott,
God, and good are but one and the
same word differently spelled. When
ap|)lied to a deity, a tribe or nation,
it meant hrave or fierce^ not kind or
beneficent^ as in modern use. It was
a title of Odin, or Woden, the bloody
warrior of the North, who swept over
nations from the Indus to the North-
ern ocean like a hyperborean tem-
pest, and was literally the god of hosts.
From him the fourth day of our week
is named Wednesday or "Woden's
day."
It has been said by an eminent crit-
ic that "Odin or Woden, the former
Scandinavian in its origin, from the
Norse ' odr,' the latter Germanic,
from ' wod,' raging, mad, wooe, de-
notes one possessed with fury." The
Scandinavian Odin and the German
Woden were the same god, whose
name indicates his character. The
Goths, or braves, were divided into
Ostro-Goths and Visi-Goths, or East-
ern and Western Goths. The Wes-
tro- or Visi-Goths, in the early part
of the fifth century, under Alaric or
Al-ric, '■'■all rich," or very rich, enter-
ed Italy and pillaged Rome. In their
subsequent conquests they formed a
union with the Vandals, who are com-
monly supposed to be a Gothic tribe
deriving their name from the Teutonic
word " wenden," to turn or wander,
denoting a collection of roving tribes
or wanderers like the Asiatic Nomads.
Dr. Latham thinks the word Vandal
is the same as Wend, which is the
German name for Slavonian. Car-
lyle speaks of the northern llaltic
countries being vacated by the Goths
and occupied by immigrating Sclaves
called Vandals or Wends in the fourth
century, and adds, the word '■'■slave,"
in all our Western languages, means
captured Sclavonian.
The Vandals, under Geuseric. Gans-
ric, "wholly rich," conquered Mau-
ritania in 429. In their victorious
march into Africa they conquered
Spain, and named the province as-
signed to them from themselves Van-
dalitia, which in process of time was
softened into Andalusia.
The etymological history of Euro-
pean names of places and of men
points directly to the j^eculiarities of
both. Our ancestors were warlike :
their national, local, and individual
names show it. The Greeks gave the
general appellation of Scythian to all
the tribes north of the Black sea.
Some suppose this to have been a
Teutonic word assumed by themselves,
and borrowed by the Greeks from the
verb "schiitten," to shoot, because
they were expert bowmen. The word
Saxon is supposed to be affiliated with
the primitive "seax," a sword, be-
cause the Saxons were good swords-
men. In like manner the Angles are
associated with the word "angel" or
" angl," a hook or barbed weapon
3o6
Origin and Meaning of Pro'per JVames.
which they wielded with great dexter-
ity, as the sea-kings, their bold de-
scendants, hurl a harpoon.
The Celts, who immediately pre-
ceded the conquering Goths in the
west of Europe, show a different taste
in their civil and geographical nomen-
clature. Klipstein observes, — " The
Keltae, Keltici, or Celtic Celtici, A^/-
r«f', /'«/«-rf/i, Galli, Galatje, the Kelts
or Celts, Gauls, Gaels, and Galatians
may all be considered one and the
same people under different branches
and relations. It may be as well to
observe that the Greeks termed the
Roman Gallia Galatia, from the Kel-
tic name Galtachd, or Gaeltachd, Ihe
land or country of the Gauls or Gaels^
and sometimes to distinguish it from
the kingdom of Galatia, founded at a
later day by the same people in Phryg-
ia and called Keltike and Kelto-Gala-
tia. The origin of all these terms is
found in the word 'ceilt' or 'ceiltach,'
signifying '•inhabitant of a forest,' and
Galtachd or Gaeltachd itself would
therefore denote a. forest country^ ' ceil,'
'gael,' 'gall,' meaning n forest."
How remot^ in time and culture
were these wild woodsmen from their
descendants, the polished Parisians !
The earliest inhabitants of Great Brit-
ain were Celts. The Highland Scotch,
the i)rimitive Irish, and the Welsh are
supposed to be their descendants. The
whole country bears traces of their
occupancy in the existing names of
places. The earliest known name of
the island, Albion, is derived from
the Celtic ''alb," white, and " in" or
"iiinis," an island. Pliny says, —
"Albion sic dicta ab albis rupibus
quas mare allnit." Britain is sup-
posed to be derived from the name
of a Celtic king, " Prydaiu, the son
of Aedd the Great." Others sive
" Brit-daoine," painted people, or
" Bruit-tan," tin-land. Caledonia, by
Klipstein, is derived from the Celtic
Cel-y-ddon, Kelts of the mountain,
" tun " or " ddun " being a mountain ;
and Irene of the Greeks, Hebernia of
the Romans, and Ireland of the Eng-
lish, is from ''Erin," the west, and
•'in," an island, meaning the itsland
of the west, which to the native is
" sweet Erin."
The Celts and Romans, who succes-
sively inhabited England, have left
but few traces of their residence tiiere
except monuments and names of
places. England was named Angle-
laud from the Angles, who probably
were the most numerous of the six
different colonies of Germans tliat
settled in Britain between A. D. 449
and 547. The first German invaders,
under Hengist and Horsa, who called
themselves Jutes, settled and founded
the kingdom of Kent. The second
invasion, led by Aella, A. D. 477. was
made by Saxons, who established the
little kingdom of Sussex or South
Saxons. 'I'he third invasion, under
Cerdic, A. D. 495, was made by Sax-
ons. They founded the kingdom of
Wessex, or the West Saxons, on the
coast of Hampshire. In the year 530
another horde of Saxons landed in
Essex, the home of the East Saxons.
The date of the fifth settlement is not
known. The invaders were Angles,
and occupied Norfolk and Suffolk, —
that is. North folk and South folk, or
people.
[To be continued.]
A)no)ig the Ilayniuikcrs.
307
AMONG THE HAYMAKERS.
By Arthur E. Cotton.
The smell of new-mown hay is in
the air, and the music of whetting
scvthe. Who that was born and bred
in the country does not remember the
exhilarating boy pleasures of haying,
with its prized freedom from the de-
tested school-books and tasks, with
its delicious draughts of home-brewed
beer and the exhaustless supplies of
good things from mother's exquisite
lai-(ler? How cool the damp grass
feels to our bare feet as we spread the
green swaths ! Load-making on the
ox-rack, and storing away in the mow
of t[)e old barn — who shall tell the
joys thereof.^
And what have we here? A ground
sparrow's nest with two fledgelings.
"We shall remember this so as to visit
it at more leisure, and we shall re-
member, too, that hornet's nest when
we come to rake.
Daniel Webster, who was once a
New Hampshire farmer boy and
worked at haying on one of these hill
farms, said a scythe always hung to
suit him when it hung in a tree. Pitv
Daniel never lived to see his way to
become practically adopted by the
agricultural world at large.
Under the old style all hands had
to be in the field by four o'clock and
mow till seven, without a particle of
food. Men were reckoned for hardi-
hood of physical endurance. The
demijohn stood under a tree, and
from frequent reference to it the
" hands " would become noisy and
quarrelsome. Then it took a half
dozen stout men a month to cut a
large farm. Now one man and a boy
will do the same work in a week on
nothing stronger tiian iced coffee.
The unadulterated Yankee is passing
away, and with him his crude habits
of toil. Once in a great while we
meet with an old-fashioned fellow,
way back under the hills, who has
not heard of the improved means of
agriculture, or having heard of them,
disbelieves in them, and jogs along
at the old pace with hook and loafer,
hauling his last load in on the snow.
These are few. They have outlived
their generation and their usefulness.
But it is thickening up in the west,
and to-morrow will be foul weather.
All hands can go a-flshing. Early in
the morning the angle-worms are se-
cured, the bay mare hitched to the
lumbering farm wagon, pipes are
loaded and lighted, the luncheon pail,
the fishing tackle, which includes a
suspicious looking jug done up in a
blanket and hidden under the seat (that
was the time of the vigorous enforce-
ment of the Maine law), are put
aboard, and we are off for Bennett's
Bridge and the famous fishing
grounds. At the pond we get plenty
of mosquito bites, but no fish bites.
After waiting in vain for nibbles, and
gesticulating frantically at the nios-
quitoes, during which time we may
have used some unnecessary exple-
tives, our patience is finally spent,
and we unanimoush^ vote it dull
music, except the experienced Nim-
rod of the party, whose waiting pow-
er is composed of sterner stuff. He
sticks to the boat : the rest adjourn to
the shore, leaving old Piscator at his
task, who, truth to tell, had won-
drous good luck after we left him,
3o8
Among- the Haymakers.
and pulled in a nice string of pickerel
that was fair to see, and eat, too.
Pluck will win, even at the end of an
old fish-pole. Thus ended the fishing
excursion. All wet outside — oh,
my ! how it did rain — and probably
some of us something so innerly.
Shades of Izaak Walton ! Are such
the real joys of angling you have be-
siuiled us with so many hours ?
Brio-ht visions of hunting four-
leaved clover with the farmer's red-
cheeked daughter, who, as we recol-
lect, could do her share of raking
h'ay, loom up in the memory. It hap-
pened, too, on some Sunday when we
truants ought to have been at church.
I wonder what has become of that
little blue-eyed maiden we made love
to in those olden summer days? Is
she yet single, or did she marry a
man for his money and then divorce
him?
It was considered lucky to hire at
a place where they had plenty to eat,
for at some they notoriously skinched
the help. Uncle Zeke's was one of
the good ones. The old man would
bring a panful of doughnuts out
into the field. The men would take
a doughnut in one hand and drag a
loafer with the other. When they
came to the barn with hay, Aunt Mar-
tha gave them each a piece of mince
pie to eat on the way to the field.
No time was wasted there, not even
in eating. "The idee is, it pays to
feed well," he would say with a pe-
culiar wink of the left eye. He did
get a "sight" of work out of his
help. He was a deacon and a tem-
perance man, swore as deacons do,
and drank in the orthodox way. He
put into liis cellar every fall ten bar-
rels of cider. He did not sell it,
never gave away any. It was an un-
solved mystery what became of it,
the most reasonable theory being that
it leaked into the cellar. He was a
great meeting hand — punctual in his
pew on Sunday, where he enjoyed a
comfortable nap, but he never con-
sidered it wicked for his men to mend
fence in the afternoon, provided they
had attended church.
Your farmer is generally weather-
wise, and just enough superstitious
to make him interesting. If the cows
come to the barn before night, if the
moon has a circle around it, if the
water boils away in the kettle, if the
young robbins twitter in the branches,
if the tree-toad or loon halloos, they
are, to these credulous people, infal-
lible sio;ns of rain, and all hav fit to
be housed is hurriedly got to the
barns.
The "big day" in haying was
when the meadow was cut, especially
if you worked in water up to your
knees — the early ride over the rough
country road while the fresh smell of
morning lingered on every green
thing around, and the silver web of
gossamer glistened by the wayside,
the noon lunch eaten in the delicious
shade of some tree, the ride home at
night on the hay.
How many times have I come from
the singing meadows as the dews of
night were falling, — albeit we were
tired as dogs, wet as drowned rats,
and hungry as bears : still those days
had their pleasant side. The least
eventful life furnishes the most eu-
joyment after all. And as we look
back to tlie quiet single years, we can
almost wish to live that life over
anew, and be a barefoot boy again
on that little hillside farm.
Boundary Line.
309
BOUNDARY LINE.
Civil Engineer Nelson Spofford, of
Haverhill, boundary line surveyor on
the part of Massachusetts in the pres-
ent controversy with New Hampshire,
is in receipt of valuable and important
copies of maps and other documents
relative to this subject from the Pub-
lic Records office of England.
As long ago as 1883 Mr. Spofford
made inquiries of Minister Lowell as
to the necessary proceedings in order
to ascertain what documents might
be found on record relative to the
settlement of the boundary li)ie con-
troversy in 1741. In reply. Minister
Lowell directed him to Mr. B. F.
Stevens, of London, as a person eve-
ry way qualified to render any assist-
ance that might be necessary. Conse-
quently Mr. Stevens was employed to
search the records, and he forwarded
to Mr. Spofford a list of twenty-five
documents and maps relating to this
subject, with the cost of copying ; and
here the matter rested until the Boun-
darv Line Commission was organized,
in 1885, when Mr. Spofford was di-
rected to order copies of such docu-
ments as might appear to be of the
most importance, but owing to delays
from various causes these documents
have been but recently received.
The list embraces some three hun-
dred pages foolscap of closely writ-
ten matter, and copies of three maps.
Among the documents appear the
following :
No. I.
Public Record Office of England.
Colonial Correspondence Bd. of Trade
Xew England.
Oreder of the King in Coinicil.
9 April 1740
Indorsed, New England, Massachusetts Bay
New Hampshire Order of Coun-
cil dated April 9th 1740 direct-
ing the Board to prepare an In-
struction to the Governor of the
Massachusetts Bay and New
Hampshire for settling the
Bounds of these Provinces pur-
suant to a report of the Comnut-
tee of Council.
At the Court of St. James
the 9th. April 1740
Present
The Kings most Excellant Majesty
in Council
Whereas : His Majesty was this day
pleased by his order in Council, to signi-
fy his approbation of a Rej)ort made by
the Lords of the Comnuttee in Council
upon the respective Appeales of the Prov-
inces of the Massachusetts Bay and New-
Hampshire for the Determination of the
Commissioners — appointed to settle the
Boundarys between the said Provinces,
and to direct in what manner the said
Boundarys should be settled, and also to
require the Governor and the respective
Councils and Assemblys of the said Prov-
inces to take especial care to carry His
Majestys commands thereby signified
into due execution as by a copy of the
said Order hereto annexed, may more
fully appear. And His ]\Iajesty being de-
sirous to remove all further pretence for
continuing the Disputes which have sub-
sisted for many years between the said
Provinces on Account of the said Boun-
darys, and to prevent any delay in ascer-
taining the Boundary pursuant to the
said order in Council, Doth Hereby Or-
der that the Lords Commissioners for
Trade and Plantations do prepare the
Draught of such an instruction as tliey
shall conceive proper to be sent to the
Governor of those Provinces, for enforc-
ing the due execution of the said order
and requiring him in the strongest terms
3IO
Boundary Line.
to cause His Majestys Commands in this
behalf to be executed in the most effec-
tual and expeditious manner, to the end
that his Majestys Intentions for promot-
ing the Peace and Quiet of the said Prov-
inces, may not be frustrated or delayed.
And they are to lay the said Draught
before the Right Honorable the Lords of
the Committee of Council for Plantation
Affairs. —
(Signed) Temple Stanyan
No. ir.
Order of Committee of Council
9 April 1741
Indorsed (with petitions) Massachusetts
Oreder of the Lords of ye Com-
mittee of Council dated ye 9th of
April 17-11 referring to this board
ye Petition of Thomas Hutchin-
son of Boston Esq. praying his
Majesty to direct that the several
Line Townships which by the
Line directed to be run by his
Majestys Order in Council of ye
9th* April 1740 will be cut off from
the Province of Massachusetts
Bay may be united to that Prov-
ince.
At the Council Chamber White-
hall
the 9th. of April 1741 By
the Right Honorable the
Lords of the Committee of
Council for Plantation Af-
fairs.
His Majesty, having been pleased by
his order in Council of the 19th of Feb-
ruai"y last, to refer unto this Connnittee
the humble petition of Thomas Hutchin-
son of Boston in his Majesty Province
of Massachusetts Bay Esqr. humbly
praying that His Majesty will be gracious-
ly pleased to direct that the several Town-
ships, commonly known by the name of
the line townships, which by the Line
directed to be run by his Majestys Order
in Council of the 9th of April 1740, will
be cut off from the said Province of Mas-
sachusetts Bay may be United in that
Province — The Lords of the Committee
this day took the said petition, together
with several others thereto annexed, from
the said Township into Consideration,
and are hereby pleased to refer the same
to the Lords Commissioners for Trade
and Plantations, to examine into the said
Petitions, and report their Opinion there-
upon to this Committee
(Signed) Temple Stanyan.
Benning Wentworth to the Board of
Trade 8th December 1742
Indorsed New Hampshire Letter from
Mr. Wentworth Governor of New Hamp-
shire to the Board, dated Portsmouth
ye 8th December 1742
Bennino; Wentworth, it will be re-
membered bv those familiar with the
history of New Hampshire, was the
first governor of the separate prov-
ince of New Hampshire, and succeed-
ed the deposed Belcher who had been
governor of botli New Hampshire and
Massachusetts Bay. Referring to the
petitions of the inhabitants who had
without their consent been summarily
transferred from the jurisdiction of
Massachusetts to that of New Hamp-
shire, and who liad petitioned the
kino; to be returned to Massachusetts,
Wentworth says, —
And unless it should be His Majesty's
pleasure to put an end to Applications of
this Nature, It will be impossible for me
to carry his Roj'al Instructions into Exe-
cution.
New Hampshire sits down by his
majesty's determination, and has
showed the greatest obedience thereto
by paying the whole expense of run-
ning and marking out the boundaries
in exact conformity to the royal de-
termination, and therefore thinks it
a great hardsliip that Massacluisetts
should lead them into any new charge,
in a dispute that had subsisted near
Boimdarv Line.
311
four score years, and which has been
so solemnly determined.
And it may be added here, also, that
the legislature of New Hampshire
stiifiilemented the above appeal of
Gov. Wentworth with a prayer to the
king, never, under any circumstances,
to admit of the slightest infraction of
the boundary line, thus determined
and established according to his royal
will and pleasure ; and to the credit
of that province and state it may also
be stated here that that work, the
boundary line as then established and
recorded, has never been called in
question by either.
Newspaper correspondents and oth-
ers have agonized over the matter
more or less, but the state has never
gone back on her own record.
Jonathan Belcher to the Board of Trade.
7 Slay 1741.
Indorsed Massachusetts, new Hampshire
Letter from Mr. Belcher Governor of Xew
England, dated at Boston ye 7th of May
1741, concerning a difficulty, arisen upon
ye construction of His Majesty's Judg-
ment respecting ye Boundaries betwixt
ye Province of Massachusetts Bay and
that of New Hampshire.
This is a very important document,
and, as will be seen, effectually dis-
poses of all claims New Hampshire
may have been supposed to have to a
slice of Massachusetts, and forms a
very valuable and important state
paper.
In connection with these documents
Ml-. Spofford has also received copies
of three very important and valuable
maps relating to the boundary line
controyers}' of 1741.
No. 1 is a map of Merrimack river
and the boundary line at three miles
distant on the north side thereof, by
George Mitchell, surveyor. This map
is about 18x24 inches, and bears the
following inscription on the upper
left hand corner, enclosed in scroll
work :
To
His Excellency Benning Wentworth Esqr.
Captain General & Commander in Cbief over His
Majesty's Province of New Hampsiiire
Tills Map is Humbly Inscribed by
His Excel lencys
Most Obdt. Servt.
George Mitchell Surv'r.
And immediately under this we find
the following note :
By Lines drawn on the North side of
ye River there is as much land as water,
which have their corresponding parallels
at three miles distance ; but as ye Sudden
Bends renders it impracticable to come
up to the Truth, the difference is divided
equally in (ieneral.
In the lower left hand corner is the
following note :
Received April 20th, with Governor
Wentworth's Letter dated at Portsmouth
in New Hampshire 6th March 1741 &2
In the Lower right hand corner is
the title enclosed in scroll work.
A MAP
Of the River Merrimack
from the Atlantick Ocean
to Pawtucket Falls de-
scribing Bounds between
His Majesty's Province of
New Hampshire and the
Massachusetts Bay, agree-
able to His Majesty s Or-
der in Council 1741
On the back of the map we find the
following sworn statement :
George Mitchell makes Oath, that this
survey made by him of the River Merri-
mack, from the mouth of said River to
Pawtucket Falls, is true and exact to the
best of his skill and knowledge, and that
the line described in the plan is as con-
312
Boundary Line.
formable to His Majestys determination in
Council, as was in his power to draw, but
finding it impracticable to stick to the
letter of said determination, has in some
places taken from one Province, and
made ample allowance for the same in
the next reach of the River.
Portsmouth, New Hampshire, March 8th,
1741.
George Mitchell,
Sworn ( Jothani Odiorne ~) Jus.
J S of the
Before \ H. Sherburne ) Peace
Thus it will be seen that Mitchell
was no tool or emissary of Belcher's,
but he drew the boundary line accord-
ing to his interpretation of the King's
Decree, as it appears from examina-
tion of the map that he surveyed the
river, made his plan, and then pro-
ceeded to lay off a strip of land three
miles wide on the north side thereof.
This he did by first drawing straight
lines along the north shore of the
river, passing so as to take one half
of the river into his estimate, project-
ing these lines from the ocean to
Pawtncket falls, and then draws the
boundary line at three miles distance
from these straight lines. Conse-
quently no part of his line appears on
the south side of the river. Mitchell
does not seem to have understood the
gymnastics of modern surveying.
This map shows no small degree of
artistic ability in the surveyor who
projected it, so much so that Mr.
Spofford already has applications for
copies from parties interested in
works of this description.
But this map not only indicates a
superior draughtsman, but a remark-
ably skilful and accurate surveyor.
His plan of the river, reduced by
pantograph to the scale of the map
accompanying the recent report of
the New Hampshire Commissioners
to the legislature of that state, shows
the survey to have been made and
platted with a wonderful degree of
accuracy.
This latest survey and plan were
executed with the very best of modern
appliances, by a skilful and expe-
rienced surveyor but recently from
the United .States Government survey
of the Mississippi river, and neither
time nor expense was spared to make
it as accurate as could be platted on
a scale of 2,500 feet to one inch ; still,
on comparing this latest product of
modern skill, it is little more than a
fac simile of Mitchell's work done
with the rude instruments of a century
and a half ago.
MAP NO. 3.
This map is on a sheet about 24x36
inches, and is the work of the same
surveyor, and executed in the same
o;eneral style as No. 2. The title
reads as follows :
A Plan of the Rivers and Boundary
Lines referred to in the Proceedings and
Judcrment to which this is annexed.
Geo. Mitchell Surveyor
Note
Reed Dec 20 1737 with Letter from ye
Commissioners for settling the Boundary
Lines between ye provinces of Massachu-
setts Bay & New Hampshire
Cenr 79
The commission of 1737, it will be
remembered by persons familiar with
this question, reported in substance
as follows :
That if the second charter of the
Province of Massachusetts Bay cov-
ered all the territory that the first
charter covered, then the line should
commence at the Atlantic ocean,
JVew Hampshire Men in Michigan.
313
three miles north of the mouth of the
Merrimack river, and thence running
westerly and northerly, keeping at
three miles' distance from the river to
the junction of the Winnipiseogee
and three miles further north, thence
due west to his majesty's other do-
minions ; but if it did not, then the
dividing line should begin at a point
three miles north of tlie Black Rocks
and thence due west to his majesty's
other dominions. These lines are all
shown on the plan.
But both parties appealed from this
decision, and the matter was carried
before the king in council. This au-
gust body seems lo have been run by
New Hampshire's paid agent, one
George Tomlinson, and the line was
established at three miles north of the
river to Pawtucket falls, and thence
due west, etc. This gave New Hamp-
shire some 700 square miles of Mas-
sachusetts more than that Province
had ever claimed, consequently her
willingness to pay all the expenses of
running the lines that make the area
of that state to-day 1,400 square
miles larger than Massachusetts.
These records and maps are not
only interesting historical documents,
but they show past all controversy that
the boundary line matter was settled
by the king's decree, that the execu-
tion was served, the land set off, the
lines run and marked on the ground,
the plans returned, accepted, and re-
corded, and the whole business exe-
cuted as perfectly and thoroughly as
it was possible to fix any division line
anywhere at that time. It was all
done with the cordial assent and con-
currence of New Hampshire. Massa-
chusetts protested against it, but
without avail. The line thus estab-
lished has been the line of jurisdic-
tion ever since. Massaclmsetts set
the bounds stones at the angles in
1<S27 : they are all thereto-day, and
mark the angles in the line. I\Ir.
Spofford has run on the ground, and
there is not the slightest doubt of its
correctness substantially, and why any
person should now suppose for a sin-
gle moment that a boundary line
thus established by both parties can
be changed at the option of one, and
without the consent and against the
wishes of the inhabitants livino- near
it, is a mystery we shall not attempt
to solve. — Exchange.
NEW HAMPSHIRE MEN TN MICHIGAN.— No. 7.
By Mary M. Culver, Yasser, Mich.
Rev. John D. Peirce.
Rev. John D. Peirce was born in
Chesterfield, N. H., Feb. 18, 1797.
His father, Gad Peirce, died while he
was a child, and he went to reside
with a paternal uncle. During his
boyhood he was permitted to attend
school two months each year. After
his twentieth birthdav his uncle al-
lowed him to work as a farm hand
near home ; and with one hundred dol-
lars saved from his wages, and a like
sum left him by his grandfather, he
determined to get an education. Rev.
Enoch Pond was his instructor in the
preparatory studies required for ad-
mission to Brown University, which
he entered in 1818 and ofraduated
314
New Ham^shh-e 3fcn in Michigan.
from in 1822 with high honors. Hav-
ing secured university honors, he
taught in the academy at Wrentham;
Mass., one year, and began theologi-
cal studies at Princeton in 1823. In
1825 he was licensed to preach, and
took charge of a Congregational
church in Sangerfield, N. Y., where
he remained four years. At this
time the agitation against secret socie-
ties was at its height, and Mr. Peirce
being a member of the Masonic fra-
ternity, his congregation and himself
could not harmonize. He resigned
his pastorate, and for a while left the
active work of the ministry. After
teaching a while in Goshen, Conn., as
principal, he left for Michigan in
1831, having been appointed by the
Home Missionary Society for work in
the (then) territory of Michigan.
His first missionary work was in Mar-
shall, Calhoun county, in July, 1831.
In May, 1832, the Congregational
church of Marshall was organized
with five members, one of them being-
Mrs. Peirce, the wife of the pastor.
Mr. Peirce is remembered for his kind-
liness of speech and manner, his self-
sacrifice, and his truly Christian life.
His thorough acquaintance with the sa-
cred writings made his labors as pastor
eminently successful. His missionary'
labors were brought to a close in July,
1838, when he was appointed super-
tendent of public instruction at the
organization of Michigan as a state.
He had been nominated to this office
in 1832, but his nomination was not
confu-med by the legislature until
July 26, 1836. Previous to this time
vei-y little attention had been paid to
education in Michigan. Most of the
new settlers were [xjor, and their time
was fully occupied in clearing up their
land and providing for their families.
Some of the leading men had held
discussions on the subject, but no
authorized system of education yet
existed. Among those who were be-
coming interested in educational mat-
ters. Gen. Isaac PL Crary, a gradu-
ate of an Eastern college, and Mr.
Peirce were the most prominent.
They met frequently, and earnestly
discussed the theme with increasing
interest. They agreed to make an
effort to have the education of the
youth of Michigan a distinct branch
of the government, and that its affairs
should be in the hands of an officer,
and thus give it an importance it
could not otherwise gain. They pre-
pared an article on the subject, which
was presented to the convention, and,
by its adoption, became the organic
law. The law thus adopted provided
for a state superintendent of instruc-
tion. In the creation of this office,
Michigan was alone ; and to these
men, Messrs. Crary and Peirce, be-
longs the credit of the formation of a
bureau of education in the (then)
new state. The office came to Mr.
Peirce unexpectedly, although he had
for a long time been satisfied that the
interests of the school system, then
in its incipiency, demanded such an
otficer. He had no thought of the
office for himself, but was expecting
to busy himself in missionary work.
He soon found his new position gave
him plenty of work. At the July ses-
sion of the legislature an act was
passed requiring him to prepare and
submit i)laus for the organization and
support of primary schools, a plan
for a university and branches, and
for the disposition of primary school
and university lauds, to the legislature.
New Hampshire Men in Michio-an.
3T5
which would convene the first Monday
in January, 1S37. ]\Ir. Peiree had a
clear field for action and five months'
time in which to prepare his report.
He immediately went East and con-
sulted such men as John A. Dix,
Gov. Marcy of New York, President
Humphrey of Amherst college. Gov.
Everett of Massachusetts, President
Day of Yale college, and other emi-
nent men. He also attended the
American Institute of Instruction held
at Worcester, Mass., and the college
of professional teachers at Cincinnati.
During this pilgrimage among educa-
tors and schools, Mr. Peiree was a
close observer of the systems exam-
ined, as he deeply appreciated the re-
sponsibility imposed upon him by the
government, wiiich had appropriated
over a million acres of land for carr}'-
ing out the system he was expected
to recommend. The report, covering
all the ground requested by the act
of the legislature, was submitted, and
was adopted by the legislature with
scarcely a dissenting voice. His next
move, in the cause of education in
Michigan, was the devising a plan for
the establishment of a universit}^,
which proved a very perplexing busi-
ness, as it was then believed that the
maintenance and success of a state
institution was impracticable. It was
suggested that the private academies
then in existence should be named
the University of Michigan, and the
fund set apart for the university
should he divided among them in
proportion to the number of students
in attendance. This scheme was fa-
vored by manv throusjhout the state,
but was vigorously opposed by Mr.
Peiree, who brought to bear, in its
defeat, all the iufiuence he could con-
trol. The measure passed the Senate^
and was defeated in the house by
only one vote. The opposition to
the scheme of Mr. Peiree was s^xy
bitter ; but accomplished facts have
demonstrated the wisdom of his posi-
tion in the matter, as Michigan now
boasts of a University whose fame,
with its fifteen hundred students, is
world-wide. In his opposition to the
confederation of the academies, he
was seconded by many distinguished
educators, who, like him, clearly saw
the impracticability of the scheme, and
the waste of time and energy that its
adoption would bring. Again were
his shrewdness and foresight shown
in opposing the appropriation of
$500,000 that had been made for the
erection of buildings. Mr. Peiree
believed that such au amount used at
that time would seriously cripple the
future of the university, which he l)e-
lieved should develop naturally. It
will thus be seen that his efforts for
the establishment of the educational
system covered many of the best
years of his life. And to quote the
words of anotlier, " to John D. Peiree,
Michigan owes her present admirable
school system, of which every citizen
is justly proud. Among other impor-
tant measures originated by him was
the homestead exemption law, by
which many of the residents of the
state are now owners of fine farms
and comfortable homes. The provi-
sions for the support of the pulilic
schools and the homestead exemption
measure were, through his efforts, in-
corporated in the constitution of the
state in 1850. In 1842 Mr. Peiree
again took up the ministry, and in
1847 he was elected to the state legis-
lature. He was ever a strong anti-
3i6
New Ha^npshii'e Men in Michigan.
slavery man, and, as chairman of the
committee on federal relations, he in-
troduced a resolution instructing the
Michigan delegation in congress to
oppose the introduction of slavery
into the territories. A few years
since he took up his abode in Ypsilan-
ti, where he resided until the sum-
mer of 1880, when, having a serious
illness, his daughter, Mrs. Emerson,
of Medway, Mass., was summoned to
Ypsilanti. As soon as he was able to
travel she persuaded him to return
with her to Massachusetts, where he
spent the evening of his days in the
companionship of his only surviving
child. Mr. Peirce resided with his
daughter until March, 1882, when he
was seized with a sudden illness,
which terminated fatally in one week
after his seizure. He died March 30,
1882. At his urgent request his re-
mains were brought to Marshall for
interment. During his illness his
mind was strong, active, and uncloud-
ed. That he might feel the approach
of death, and enjoy the company of
dear friends to the last, he refused
opiates of any description. When
death claimed him, he calmly went to
the reward which he had earned by a
long life of service as a benefactor of
the human race. He was an ardent
lover of Michigan, her institutions
and her people. It was in Michigan
that his greatest and best labors were
performed. Here he had very many
warm admirers and personal friends ;
and his dying request was that he
might be buried in the soil of his " be-
loved Michigan," and near the graves
of those who had sliared with him the
burdens of pioneer life. Around the
little mound of eartii that marks his
last resting-place are the graves of
honored men and women who were his
co-laborers in the grand work of
building up a civilization upon a
foundation of morality and intellec-
ual worth, the certain fruitage of his
broad and philanthropic ideas of uni-
versal education ; and as long as the
present system of public education
lasts, every school-house in the state,
and especially the University of Michi-
gan, will be a monument to John D.
Peirce and the noble baud of workers
of which he was the central figure.
Memorial services were held in Mar-
shall at the High .School, at which all
the schools in the city participated.
Every honor was (laid to the memory
of " Father Peirce " that affection,
gratitude, and respect could devise.
Beautiful floral tributes were brought
by the pupils of the different schools ;
the most distinguished men of Mar-
shall and the surrounding towns were
l)resent, and many of them made
speeches, and seemed to vie with each
other in bearing testimony to the
worth of their deceased benefactor
and friend. Many letters were read,
sent by persons who could not be
present, but who wished to offer their
tribute of respect to his character and
work in the cause of education. Both
speakers and writers expressed a
hope that these memorial services
would assist in perpetuating the his-
tory of this great and good man, that
future generations might be benefited
by his example. One gentleman, a
physician, who had practised in his
family, and knew him in private as
well as in public life, said of him, —
" No man could know Mr. Peirce for
an^' length of time without becoming
a better man himself." He was
greatly beloved throughout the state.
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Fifth Avenue Hotel.
317
FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL.
During the siirainer last passed,
while at Boar's Head hotel, we were
informed by Gen. Edward F. Noyes,
ex-governor of Ohio, and late U. S.
minister to France, that the Fifth
Avenue hotel of New York city was
in all respects the leading hotel in
the world. His extensive acquain-
tance, not only with this country' but
with the cities of Europe, gives to his
opinion great authority.
The name of no street in New
York is better known than Fifth
avenue — not even Broadway. Where
Fifth avenue and Broadway intersect
is about the centre of population in
the metropolis, and at the intersec-
tion stands the Fifth Avenue hotel.
The location of this house is the finest
in the great metropolis, and is sira-
pW perfect. It is on the Fifth
avenue side of the beautiful Madison
square, between Twenty-third and
Twenty-fourth streets, and is so cen-
tral and convenient that every person
visiting the cit}' must go to it or pass
\>y it, whether out for pleasure or for
iDusiness. It is the central point
whence one can easily turn to elegant
homes, churches, galleries, theatres,
shoi)s, and all places of interest in
the city.
When the Fifth Avenue hotel was
started in 1859 it was regarded as a
•doubtful venture, because it was so
far up town, and then out of the way
of the throng of travel and traffic.
It is now the very focus of a living
maelstrom, and the central jewel of a
■cluster of great hotels, which have
sprung up above, below, and all
around. Of necessity it will always
<be near the centre of business in
New York, and its location gives it
command of rapid transit in all di-
rections to the most remote sections
of the city. Now, as when this
grand hotel was opened to the public,
the style of the firm is Hitchcock,
Darling «fe Company. Mr. A. B. Dar-
ling is a native of Burke, Vt. He is
prominent in New York, and has a
fine country seat at Darlington, N. J.
Mr. Hiram Hitchcock is a native of
Clareraont. His hospitable summer
residence is at Hanover, and he takes
great interest in New Hampshire mat-
ters in general, and in the affairs of
Dartmouth college in particular.
During a late visit to New York
we had the pleasure of inspecting a
part of this great hotel. The build-
ing is of white marble, and is a plain
and simple but impressive Corinthian
structure, designed b}' the late Mr.
Thomas. The interior is of a more
ornate character of Corinthian archi-
tecture, and was most admirably and
effectively designed and arranged hy
that veteran architect, William Wash-
burn, Esq., of Boston, cooperating
with the late Col. Paran Stevens.
Mr. Washburn gave his personal at-
tention to tiie convenient arrange-
ment of apartments, to the deafening
of all floors from one sub-divison wall
to another, making the building prac-
tically fire-proof, to the ventilation,
plumbing, and drainage of the entire
house, resulting in what the public
have long considered the safest, most
healthy, and most comfortable hotel
in the world.
" Entering the main hall, the ceil-
ing is in carton piei're, a composition
which is fire and water proof. The
3i8
Fifth Avenue Hotel.
general st3'le of decoration is Louis
XIII, or of the last epoch of the
French renaissance. The ground is
divided into tiles of a fine relief draw-
ing The colors are of a gray lavender,
brought out witli old gold and silver.
Skirting this tiling is a large frieze
of characteristic design, which frames
tlie ground. The frieze is treated in
four shades of bronzed metal and
copper. Mouldings and consols fin-
ish the ceiling, and are treated in the
same general style. The frieze is
grand and imposing, and is a very
effective design. The colors, which
are in imitation of metal, are on an
azurine blue ground, and make a
strong and very rich contrast with
the real bronze of the ceiling. The
transparency of the colors on this
border has a pleasing effect, and re-
minds one of those grand vestibules
of the old European palaces. The
columns are decorated in the seven-
teenth centur}^ style, and are in Dam-
asquiner work, which gives them the
strong Middle Age character, adding
to the imposing general ensemble, and
making the decorations severe and
grand. The wood-work throughout
is of San Domingo mahogany. The
flooring is white Italian veined mar-
ble, with colored border. The wain-
scoting, base, and caps are Italian
bardiglio, the mouldings of yellow si-
enna, the panels American bardiglio,
and the staircase, steps, and risers are
of Italian white veined marble.
"The reading-room decoration is in
Italian renaissance. All of the trim-
mings and wainscoting are of blue
Fleure marble. The doors are of
San Domingo mahogany. All of the
work is treated severely, and is very
appropriate for a reading-room.
" The bar-room ceiling, like the
main hall, is in carton pierre^ deco-
rated in the Elizabethan style. The
frieze is in detached shell relief work,
and the walls are treated in gilt, with
a hammered gold effect. The idea
of the artist was to produce some-
thing new and not heretofore intro-
duced, and one is very favorably im-
pressed with its origiuality, line
colors, and good taste. The effect
is new, and is much praised. The
marbles introduced in this superb
room are as follows • Architraves to
doors, and the window and mirror
frames, are ophite green ; the counter
and pedestals under columns are
Alps green and French griotte ; the
wainscoting, panels, base, and caps
are ophite green ; and the mouldings
are Italian Verona red. The wood-
work is San Domingo mahogany, of
a wonderfully fine grain and fibre.
" On the main hall, or easily ac-
cessible to it, are the official depart-
ments of the hotel, which are so fa-
mous for their completeness. They
include, besides the general office,
the postal office, the telegraph and
railway ticket offices, the newspaper,
book stand, and theatre ticket office,
stock and exchange telegraph, car-
riage and package offices, coat-room,
billiard-room, barber-shop, and va-
rious committee-rooms. The pas-
senger elevator is also entered from
the main hall, and is a model of com-
fort and safety.
"• One flight from the main floor we
reach the grand hall, from which
open the drawing-rooms, dining-
rooms, waiting-rooms, and corridors
of the first floor. The decoration is
rich and elegant in character, re-
lieved by carpetings and hangings of
Kifth Avenue Hotel.
319
scarlet and wine color. The draw-
ing-room is an almost perfect exam-
ple in furnishing and decoration of a
Louis XIV apartment. The decora-
tion is by M. PoUier, and the carpets
are by Mr. Temi)leton, of Glasgow.
The grand dining-room is, i)erhaps,
the finest Corinthian a[)artment in
the country. The pedestals are of
mahogany and black marble, the col-
nmns are red French marble and gold,
and the ceiling is a very effective open
sky. One of the dining-rooms — the
finest of the kind in the country — is
of the period of Queen Anne, after
designs by Mr. MacPherson, of Bos-
ton ; and the tea-room is too lovely to
describe. The apartments through-
out the house are arranged single and
en suite., and are models of elegance,
cleanliness, comfort, and conven-
ience."
The great extent of the accommo-
dations of this substantial and pala-
tial hotel, the completeness of its
appointments, the excellence of its
service and the luxury of its living,
the protection and courtesy extended
to guests, and the fairness and uni-
formity of charges, conspire to make
it the great representative hotel of
the American system. The patrons
of the hotel are people of worth and
distinction from all walks in honor-
able life, and they require great abil-
ity and integrity on the part of the
proprietors, whose fame has fortu-
nately gone hand in hand with that
of tiieir guests, and who are always
ready to do all in their power to make
old friends feel entirely at home, and
to welcome new ones.
The patronage, from the crowded
days of the contest for the presidency
in 1860, with the presence of His
Royal Highness the Prince of Wales
and suite, has steadily increased, and
in no iiotel history has there been so
distinguished a list on any register as
at this house.
In the evening the corridors may
be rciiarded as the social and busi-
ness exchange of the metropolis.
The flow of peo[)le is incessant, and
even a stranger would not fail to note
a friend or a familiar face.
From a late issue of the Nev^ York
Tribune we make the following ex-
tracts, which may interest our read-
ers :
Occasionally in the spring, autumn, or
mid-winter there comes to the Fifth
Avenue hotel such a concourse of promi-
nent men as can be seen no where else in
the country. Scores of diverse and oppo-
site interests may have brought them
under the same roof, but they meet and
mingle in a general gathering, like law-
yers who have closed their cases in court,
and, after abusing each other roundly to
the jury, are ready to go and have a
" pipe " or a " glass " together. One of
these remarkable assemblages has taken
place within forty-eight hours. The
meetings of the Peabody Education Fund
trustees, the directors of the National
Wool Growers' Association, the Xational
Steam Navigation Board, the Democratic
State Connnittee, and the Xfftional Bolt
and Xut Manufacturers' Association, were
among the caixses that brought prominent
men here. Foremost in the list was ex-
President Rutlierford B. Hayes, whose
ripening years are leaving light impress.
j\Ir. Hayes devotes a large share of his
time and attention to educational and
philanthropic labors. He has taken deep
interest in prison reform and in the edu-
cational development of the black race,
and in both directions is doing a quiet
but noble work. Chief-»Justice Morrison
R. Waite, looking like a rugged and
stubborn-mmded Puritan, with a face of
320
Fifth Avenue Hotel.
strongly marked characteristics, but
beaming with good nature, was here with
Mrs. Waits. Like Mr. Hayes, he is en-
gaged in educational work when his
judicial duties will permit him to do so.
He is a member of the Peabody and Slater
Fund boards. A remarkable figure and
character were those of the venerable and
honorable Robert C. Winthrop, of Massa-
chusetts, whose form is bending slightly
under the weight of years that have been
full of honors, and whose hair is whitened
by time. Over his tall figure he had
usually a long, old-fashioned black cloak,
by which he was made still more con-
spicuous. Equally noticeable was Bishop
Whipple, of Minnesota, by reason of his
great height, exceeding spareness, and
black garb. He dresses entirely in black
broadcloth. His coat has a clerical cut
at the neck, is single-breasted, and the
skirts reach below the knees. His hat is
a soft Western felt, worn like an itinerant
preacher's. With a lean and sallow,
smooth-shaven face, and long straggling
locks of once jet black but now iron
gray hair falling on his shoulders, the
eloquent prelate looks like one of the
gaunt fathers of Xew England who came
over in the Mayflower. A portion of his
work in late years has been among the
Indians of the Xorth-west, over whom he
has acquired much influence.
Two men standing by the office coun-
ter in conversation are almost identical
in height aiid general appearance, except
facial expression. They are tall, well
formed, aristocratic. You would know
them to be Southerners from their bear-
ing. They are ex-Go v. Brown and ex-
Gov. Porter, of Tennessee. The former
is a receiver of the Texas I'acific Pail-
road. He has a face marked and scarred
and bronzed, like a veteran warrior. Gov.
Porter's skin, on the contrary, is soft and
white. Gov. Porter was assistant secre-
tary of state under Mr. Bayard, but re-
signed Lilliputian diplomacy to return to
a lucrative law practice. A historic figure
is that of A. H. H. Stuart, of Virginia. He
was called to the interior department port-
folio in the cabinet of Franklin Pierce, be-
fore any other selection was made. He was
then a power in Virginia and the South,
whose foi'tunes he followed in 1860, and
has since l)een retired from active life.
The present United States minister to
Mexico and his immediate predecessor
are in the house — Judge Thomas C. Man-
ning, of Louisiana, and Gen. Henry E,.
Jackson, of Georgia. Coming down the
stairway of the ladies' entrance to take a
carriage was seen Daniel Manning, ex-
secretary of the treasury. It gives one
positive pain to observe his slow and
weary movement, with one foot dragging
after the other, and to observe with the
ixnhealthy color of his large round face
that look of anguish which comes to
strong men when stricken by a malady
that impairs their powers.
It is always amusing to watch the
crowed in the corridors as " Old Tecum-
seh " comes through to get his letters.
They turn and stare after his weather
beaten frame, reddish face, and grizzled
whiskers. One touches another and
whispers "There's Sherman," until every
one has got a look at the hero, who goes
ambling away on a sort of quick step,
utterly oblivious of the commotion.
A very distinguished looking group of
men (some of them of stalwart frame)
stands for a moment on the corridor, and
then passes out. It is Gov. Sawyer of
Xew Hampshire, and judges of the X. H.
supreme court and others, who are re-
turning from the great constitutional
centennial.
A man with a statesmanlike face,
smooth-shaven and pallid white, Mith
firm set lips and twinkling eyes, is Gen.
Xathan Goff, of West Virginia. Senator
D. ^I. Sabin, of ^linnesota, ^^ith the
plump rotundity that belongs to a United
States senator, raven black hair, black
eyes, and business attire, comes down
from the dining-room with a tooth-pick
protruding from under his big black
moustache, and falls into conversation
Fifth Avenue Hotel.
321
with Irvino- A. Evans, of Boston. "S\x.
Evans is a l)roker, who let Ives & Stayrer
have a large loan. He is a man of me-
dium size, with a large browm moustache,
who wears a silk hat, and would be mis-
taken for a Xew Yorker from his nervous
movements and his attire. He is an in-
vestor in Senator Sabin's corporation,
the Minnesota Thresher Company. Mr.
Evans is known as "Nervy" Evans on
the Boston Stock Board, from his push
and dash. Two influential capitalists
are talking together near by. They are
J. Pierpont IMorgan, of New York, and
A. J. Drexel, of Philadelphia. The for-
mer is large and fine looking, with an
extremely ruddy complexion. The latter
has a square-shaped head and iron gray
moustache.
New York politicians are like " leaves
in Vallombrosa." Ex-Senator Warner
Miller, with his left hand in his trousers
pocket and his right full of letters and
papers, is engaged in earnest conversation
with the stout and gray-headed congress-
man from the Saratoga district, George
West; the irrepresf.ible and nervously
active ex-congressman from Whitehall,
H. G. Burleigh; and his faithful right
hand man in politics. Clerk John C.
Vrooman, of the state senate. Mr. Miller
has shown a philosophic temper under
defeat that is winning admiration alike
from frieiids and opponents. The man
whom he succeeded, and who defeated
him for reelection, walks by on his way
to the state committee rooms, ex-Senator
Thomas C. Piatt. He has not the slightest
resemblance to the popular conception of
a powerful political organizer. He looks,
indeed, as though a breeze much less than
a Western cyclone could blow him away.
Cornelius N. Bliss, with his round, plump
figure, English face and mutton chop
whiskers, accompanied by Col. S. V. R.
Cruger, tall, commanding, and military
in his air, comes in from the street and
joins Gen. John N. Knapp, whose fiery
red whiskers are only equalled by his
fiery Republicanism. Among others upon
whom the eye of the observer falls are
ex-Senator Charles H. Knapp of Lewis
county, Col. William F. Shaffer, ex-Con-
sul Mahlon Chance, Port Warden Clarence
V. Mead, Dvvight Lawrence, John J.
O'Brien, ex-Marshal John I. Davenport,
and Gen. Charles K. Graham.
Secretary Endicott, with a white over-
coat on his back and a lady's sacque on
his arm, looking the beau-ideal of a gen-
tleman, comes to the office to order a
coupe, and drives away with his wife on
a shopping tour. Not ten steps away is
the giant-like frame and big, broad face
of S. B. Elkins, who has come to call on
a friend, and is immediately surrounded
by political and social acquaintances.
Adj't-Gen. R. C. Drum, on whom the
Democrats attempted to place the odium
and responsibility of President Cleve-
land's rebel flag order, accompanied by
Gen. George A. rorsji;h, who was for-
merly on Gen. Hancock's staff, but is
now stationed on the frontier, go out on
Broadway together, their erectness mark-
ing their military service.
T. D. Basselin, the fat and jolly fores-
try commissioner, Isaac V. Baker, the
energetic prison superintendent, and John
D. Kernan, the shock-haired railroad
commissioner, three state officials, are
seen in a group near the door.
Then the eye rests on two noted char-
acters, story-tellers, wits, and hail fellows
well met,— Gen. George A. Sheridan, of
Louisiana, and Col. Thomas Porterhouse
Ochiltree. The general has come l)ack
from a New England lecture tour with
his wallet stuffed full of greenbacks and
his long hail" uncombed for forty-eight
hours.
Then the observer discovers es-United
States Civil Service Commissioner Dor-
man B. Eaton in earnest conversation
with a friend on a sofa. Mr. Eaton is
using his left hand as a map and his
right forefinger as a pointer to lay down
some energetic propositions. He passes
out through the throng a moment later.
As he goes he expresses his opinion that
322
Fifth Avenue Hotel.
Senator William B. Allison, of Iowa,
should be the Republican nominee for
president. He describes him as a man
of great executive ability and fine quali-
ties, who would be supported by the
Mugwumps, carry New York, and be
elected.
There are scores besides these who are
well known in various parts of the coun-
try. Such are ex-Secretary Columbus
Delano, who presided over the interior
department in Gen. Grant's cabinet ; Da-
vid Harpster, of Ohio, one of the largest
wool-growers in America; Thomas M.
Nichol, better known as " Hard ]Money "
Nichoi, who has been wasted nearly to a
shadow by illness ; A. C. Cheney, presi-
dent of the Garfield National Bank and
chairman of the National Board of Steam
Navigation; Capt. F. AV. Vosburgh, the
popular Hudson river steamboatman ;
Capt. R. C. Gray, of Pittsburgh, the vet-
eran and grizzled Ohio river steamboat-
man ; Gen. James S. Negley, of Pitts-
burgh, with his curling hair, his French
moustache and goatee, and distinguished
appearance ; Gen. Newton, the commis-
sioner of public works ; Stilson Hutchins,
of The Washingto7i Post; E. H. Ammi-
down, president of the American Protec-
tive Tariff League ; Robert P. Porter and
A. M. Garland, its secretaries, who were
members of the old Tariff Commission ;
Gen. O. E. Madden, of Boston, who is
heavily engaged in electrical invention
and improvement ; Col. A. Piper, IT. S. A.,
who was for years an instructor at West
Point; William Plankinton, the athletic
son of the wealthy proprietor of the
Plankinton house at Milwaukee, who has
just returned from Europe ; Mayor D. R.
Haddon, of IVlemphis, who has been ill at
the hotel for a month, and is creeping
around on crutches ; big-headed Burke
Cockran, the Tammany orator and coun-
sel for Jacob Sharp, who has called for a
friend ; ex-Gov. Samuel Ilauser, of Mon-
tana, who conceals his wealth under the
most unassuming appearance ; W. F.
Proctor, the Singer sewing machine mill-
ionaire ; Horace L. Hotchkiss, the broker,
who mingles literature with business and
enjoys both; Capt. T. W. Collier, for-
merly owner of The Santa Fe New Mex-
ican and James Bell, the sandy-whis-
kered and disappointed owner of the
yacht Thistle.
From the Nev) York Snn we quote
a few facts about the underneath
world in this great hotel. The kitclien
is one hundred by tlfty feet. lu the
early morning this was what the re-
porter saw :
The six fires in the mighty range were
burning briskly now, and cast a ruddy
glare upon the walls whenever the cook
uncovered that at which he was engaged.
Fantastic shadows danced upon the dark
stone floor, and ihe polished utensils on a
long table in the centre of the room
flashed back the glare defiantly. The
range for forty feet stretched away a
black monster, while beyond rose the
great chimney, the open firepkce, and the
spit. Upon the opposite side of the
kitchen the long vegetable range, serving
table, and various other appurtenances
were lost, except for outline, in the
shade.
It is broad daylight now, and the
kitchen apparatus has put off its ghost-
like air. At one corner of the big room
is a door leading to what is known as the
cook's room, because here are prepared
the meats, &c., before they are introduced
to the range. Along one side of this
smaller apartment runs the immense re-
frigerator, divided into compartments,
into which are packed enough prepared
cuts and fowl to feed an army. And
here Gustav and Pierre were busy, while
their comrades were arranging other de-
tails of breakfast in the main room — two
of them being engaged at huge boilers?
from which arose delicious odors of coffee
and tea.
The chef strode into the steward's
room, where the latter was looking over
his accounts.
Fifth Aventce Hotel.
323
" IIow many mouths to-day?" asked
the chef, who has a way of getting down
to business at once, because he has plenty
of business to get down to.
" Get ready for live hundred ; here's
your stock," said the steward, handing
over a slip of paper.
Things were growing lively in the
kitchen. Through the door leading-
tow ard the ordinary a dozen waiters were
trooping at once, laden with savory bur-
dens.
" I thought all the meats and vegetables
were prepared and kept warm in the
carving-room, next the ordinary?"
" 80 they are, for dinner ; but Monsieui-
must know that in every good hotel each
breakfast is prepared to order. Yes, the
meats and fowl are j>repared the day be-
fore, and packed away in the refrigerator.
Monsieur may see the provisions coming
in now."
And coming they were. It being past
nine o'clock, the rush of waiters for
breakfast was diminishing gradually, and
a detachment of cooks were bringing in
the suj)plies for the ensuing twenty-four
hours. Ill a small room just off the
kitchen, devoted to the production of ice
cream, was a small elevator leading to
the ground floor below. Beside it stood
a stalwart fellow superintending the ma-
noeuvres.
" Come, wake up, below there," he
shouted to a blue-aproned butcher, who
loitered in the rear of a truck which had
been driven in from Twenty-fourth street,
and was backed against the elevator.
" I can't give you a whole day. Hoist
away."
A creaking and a grinding, and the
lift appeared, laden with great piles of
meat, which was quickly transferred to
the care of the men, who trooped off with
it through the kitclien and into the cook's
room. AVhen this was over the same
process was repeated with vegetables,
until it would seem that the entire animal
and vegetable production of a New Jersey
comity had been swallowed up.
"I say, Pierre, give me a hand for a
minute on this quarter of beef."
The speaker's head was just visible
above a mountain of meat at one end of
the long table in the cook's room, where
half a dozen men were carving and cut-
ting all along the line. The mountains
became mole hills, as in the dissected
state they were rapidly packed away.
" We 're ready for you, girls," shouted
the chef's assistant. " Get those vege-
tal)les out of the way as soon as you can.
AYe 're a little behindhand to-day."
The late breakfasters had come and
gone, and a lull was apparent in the
kitchen. The acting had been transferred
to the cook's room, and the " dreadful
note of preparation " went on. In the
knife-cleaning and dish-rooms a minor
activity was visible.
" AVhat on earth is that — a beer A'at ? "
Indeed, the great copper vessel looked
as though it might be, and the cook as
though he would like it to be.
" That 's the soup stock. We fill that,
and from it make two kinds of soup every
day."
" How much does it hold ? "
" One hundred and two gallons exactly.
But it doesn't take long to empty it.
Those two boilers next to it are for mak-
ing the two soups. From them it is
draMii and kept hot in quantity in the
carving-room."
At two o'clock the kitchen began to
wake up again. At every step a new
odor greeted the nostrils, and not one
which was not appetizing. It was a de-
licious conglomeration of smells. One
man seemed more active than others, and
breathed a dignity born only of author-
ity.
All the cooks and girls had now re-
turned to the kitchen, and the place
looked a mammoth bee-hive. People
were arriving in the main dining-room
for dinner, but few waiters were visible.
At the great range five men were busy,
each with a fire of his own. Beyond and
in the corner the great spit was at work,
324
Fifth Avenue Hotel.
revolved by a small stationary engine
near by. Six large turkeys were being
deliciously browned before a glowing fire,
under the eye of a gentleman who appar-
ently revelled in a temperature of 120° in
the shade. At the end of the room sev-
eral immense boilers were operating upon
fish and meat, while at the second row of
ranges on the other side of the room
seven or eight women were tiirning out
vegetables of all sorts ready for the table.
Down the centre of the apartment ran a
long table, on which were all sorts of
culinary utensils, and at one end of this
a steam apparatus for keeping warm the
sauces and entrees. The whole scene
was one to make an epicure smile or a
tramp weep.
The carving-room was about fifty feet
by thirty, and on two sides the walls and
tables were hidden by crockery, glass-
ware, and cutlery ready for use. Nearest
the dining-room was a long, heavily built
table, in which were sunk the heating
vessels for roasts and boils, as well as the
soups. Opening off this apartment was
the fruit-room, presided over by a young
woman. As she moved about among the
luscious piles, the combination formed by
far the prettiest picture to be seen within
these precincts of mystery. In and out
of the carving-room rushed the waiters,
bearing steaming dishes to make the
mouth water.
" Where do the waiters get the bread
and pastry ? I do n't see it here."
" The bread they get from an elevator
in the kitchen, where it is sent up from
the bakery ; but they have to go down
for the pasti-y."
" Is it all made in the house ? "
" Yes, sir ; there 's half a dozen bakers
at work down there all the time. People
in a hotel eat more pastry than people at
home. I do n't know why, but they do."
Chef Feraud, who has been going this
daily round of life in the same house for
over a quarter of a century, is a difficult
man to disconcert in the feeding of a
fashionable army.
" How do you start your day so as not
to get muddled?" he was asked.
" Oh ! it 's simple enough. The steward
gets from the clerk a calculation of the
number of guests to be cared for, which
may be anywhere between three hundred
and six hundred. He orders his stock
according to this, and turns over to me
a list of the stock on hand in the morn-
ing. From this list I make up my bill
of fare, set my men to work, as you have
seen, and there yovi are."
" But do not people sometimes call for
extraordinai-y dishes or things which you
have not got on your bill of fare or stock
list?"
" Of course they do — and they get them.
If a man chooses to insist on having
something not down on the bill, instead
of raising a row we give it to him. If it
is not in the house, we send out and get
it, if he is willing to wait awhile to be
pleased. As to extraordinary dishes,
many are called for, but its a very extra-
ordinary dish, indeed, that we cannot get
up in here."
" Can you give any idea of what con-
sumption of provisions there is in a
day?"
" Well, there were about five hundred
guests here to-day, and as an illustration
of the provision necessary, we used up,
among the fowl, forty turkeys and sixty-
five chickens, and we served up eight hun-
dred and sixty pounds of beef and thirty-
six sides of mutton, besides eighty pies,
and two hvmdred or three hundred loaves
of bread. Perhaps that will give you an
idea."
" Is there much waste ? "
" Very little. What is not served is
consumed by the employes, and then what
is left goes to some charity, such as the
Little Sisters of the Poor, and that is n't
waste, you know."
"I suppose a man must love this pro-
fession to become an expert at it, the
same as in other artistic callings ? "
" You are right. A chef should be a
proud man. Place the artist who pleases
October.
325
the eye and the artist who pleases the
stomach, and stomach will win every
time. It's human nature.
We close this description with
another extract from an article writ-
ten after the recent repairs were com-
pleted.
The first house of this engrossing, com-
manding kind the country had seen when
erected, it remains to-day the leading
hotel of the world, crowned with the ap-
probation of two continents, and wholly
worthy of the enthusiastic encomiums
showered on it from every quarter. It
must be confessed that Americans regard
luxurious hotel-living as a divine right,
but it should not be forgotten that the
Fifth Avenue gave them their first lesson
by showing they could expect absolute
perfection. When the architect, Mr.
William Washburn, of Boston, designed
the house, he aimed at not only making
it simple and elegant in structui'e, but
absolutely fire-proof; and since then
improvements have added to its safety
as well as to its interior beauty. No one
with eyes to see, who enters the Fifth
Avenue hotel to-day, but will pause to
note the witchery of the modern taste for
decoration, or to look with admiration at
the changes which have fallen like a
beautiful mantle over the once familiar
places. The trite, conventionalized hotel
ornamentation has passed away forever.
In its stead are visions of Aladdin's jjal-
ace, or what imagination calls such,
though it is doubtful if Aladdin ever
conjured from his lamp so splendid or so
complete a residence. The refinement
and elegance of the new decorations
would be noticeable in the private house
of a millionaire with whom good taste
was a cardinal virtue.
OCTOBER.
By Mary R. P. Hatch.
October, October !
Say not that 't is sober ;
Say not that 't is dreary, -
The soul's intuition
Sees joy and fruition
't is not so to me.
In the o;lorious clothing of hillside and tree.
October, October !
Say not that 't is sober ;
The yellow's for gladness all the vear throngh.
The purple 's for wealth,
The red is for health,
And the blue of the sky tells us friends shall be true.
Fulfilment, perfection I
The soul's resurrection,
Are some of its promises lasting and dear.
October, October !
Say not that 't is sober ;
To me 't is the sweetest of all the glad 3'ear.
326
Intolerance in New Hampshire.
INTOLERANCE IN NEW HAMPSHIRE.
By M. V. B. Knox, Ph. D.
The first settlers in New Hamp-
shire, as early as 1633, ten years af-
ter commencing their improvements,
attempted at Dover to organize a
church, but witli poor success. Bad
or incompetent ministers, a sharp
rivalry between the Puritan and Epis-
copal members of the community,
tended to impair the success of the
attempts. Finally, in 1G38, a church
was organized, a house of worship
located and built three or four miles
from the present city of Dover. The
hostility between the two opposing
elements became so sharp that it is
said an appeal was made to arms. In
1638, at Hampton, also, a few months
earlier than at Dover, Rev. Stephen
Bachiler founded a church, and at
Exeter one was established the same
year by an ecclesiastical fugitive
from Boston. Fift}' acres of land at
Portsmouth in 1640 were granted to
support an Episcopal church.
Continual disagreements seem to
have made the course of religious life
very checkered : ministers were found
unworthy, the sharp opposition by
Puritan people to others bore its fruit,
and many obstacles incident to a new
country were in the way. In some
instances, other than that gift at Ports-
mouth, land was set aside for the sup-
port of the ministry. In 1641, when
the New Hampshire settlements were,
for the time being, included in Massa-
chusetts, the intolerant laws of the
latter were set in motion, some Qua-
kers and witches harried, but no
great injury was done them. Three
Quaker women, in 1G62, were com-
manded by the constables of the town
to be made fast to the tail of a cart,
drawn through the streets, whipped
not to exceed ten stripes^on the bare
back in each town, and so taken out
of the colony. This sentence was
carried out, at least in Dover.
Some concessions seem to have
been granted New Hampshire, for
the decree of the General Court of
Massachusetts in 1642 was that each
town of New Hampshire should send
a deputy to that body, though they
might not" be church members. In
1659 a law was passed by the Gen-
eral Court against the festival of
Christmas and kindred ones, super-
stitiously kept, it said. The next
3^ear a law passed that a suicide must
be buried in the highway, the privi-
lege being denied of burial in a
churchyard, and that a heap of stones
be piled above his grave as a brand
of infamy. This law was copied from
old English ones. People absent
from church, in 1662, were fined five
shillings for each absence, and one
woman was i)ut into the stocks an
hour on her husband's refusing to pay
her fine for such absence. One man
was fined forty shillings for entertain-
ing some Quakers four hours in one
day.
In 1680 Charles Second issued a
commission constituting a council to
govern New Hampshire. In tiiis doc-
ument he is careful to insist that vir-
tue and good living be encouraged,
" that by such example ye infidle may
be invited and desire to partake of ye
Christian Religion." Libertv of con-
Intolerance in JVezv Hampshire.
327
science was expressl}' to be allowed
to all Protestants, — " yt such espe-
cially as shall be conformable to ye
rites of ye Church of P^iig'd shall be
paiticularly countenanced and encour-
aged."
IG80 the provincial governor, Cran-
field, issued an order for the adminis-
tration of the sacrament in the prov-
ince according to the mode of the
Church of P^ngland, and one dissen-
ter, at least, Rev. Joshua Moody,
was imprisoned some time at Great
Island for violating this order. Rev.
Seaborn Cotton, owing to Cranfield's
threat to come and do at Hampton
what he had done with Moody at
Portsmouth, was frightened away
from that town to Boston. But these
oppressive orders had little effect on
the stern Puritan settlers, and other
sects than their own had a poor
chance. Each town governing itself
could generally liave its own way in
church matters, and on the whole the
sentiment was more liberal than in
Massachusetts. Until 1G86, when
Gov. Dudlev gave the authority, no
minister had the power to marry per-
sons, since marriage was deemed
wholly a civil contract.
At least as early as 1714, while
New Hampshire was still a colony, a
law was passed by the General Court
that the freeholders of any town could
make choice of a minister for that
town, and name the salary to be al-
lowed him. The selectmen were re-
quired to make out rates and assess-
ments upon the inhabitants of the
town, and these assessments were to
be collected like any tax. A meeting-
house and the minister's dwelling-
house were to be paid for in the same
way. It was, however, specifically
stated that this must not interfere
with liberty of conscience, nor was
any person, under pretence of being
of another persuasion, to be excused
from paying the settled minister.
Yet such as conscientiously and con-
stantly attended worship according to
their own persuasion, and they only,
were to be excused from paying for
the support of the minister of the
town. Each town was considered to
be under moral obligation to provide
for insti'uetion in religion and morali-
ty. Five years later than the first
enactment the same law, substantially,
was confirmed. This seems to have
been the general condition of things
through the decades to the Revolu-
tionary war, when the royal governor,
Wentworth, having fled, the people
in 1776 organized a provisional gov-
ernment, when no reference in their
records is made to religious matters.
In 178-4 the bill of rights was adopted,
after two or three failures, on submit-
ting a plan to the people. That bill
recognized the natural rights of con-
science and the worship of God, and
empowered the legislature to author-
ize towns, parishes, bodies corporate^
or religious societies, to make provi-
sion for the maintenance of public
Protestant service of piety, religion,
and morality. It provided that these
bodies named should have the exclu-
sive right of electing their own pub-
lic teachers and providing for their
maintenance ; and no person of any
particular sect or denomination should
ever be compelled to pay toward the
supi)ort of the ministry of another
sect or denomination. In the form of
government instituted at that same
time, no one was made eligible to the
oflfice of governor, state senator, or
328
Intolci'ance in JVew Hampshire.
representative, who was not of the
Protestant religion. While this was
treated most of the time as a dead
letter, with a failure or two of at-
tempted repeal, it was finally expung-
ed from the constitution in 1877.
This clause against Romanists, in the
constitutions of 1779 and of 1792, was
equalled also by anotlier as positive
against F'rench infidelity and deism