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THE

GRANITE MONTHLY

A New Hampshire Magazine

DEVOTED TO

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, LITERATURE,
AND STATE PROGRESS

VOLUME XXII

CONCORD, N. H.

PUBLISHED BY THE GRANITE MONTHLY COMPANY

1897

V.22

By the Granite Monthly Company

Concord, N. H.

I'rhiteJ, IHiistrated, and EUctrotyped by
Rfpuhlican Press Association {Monitor Press)
Concord, fiew Hampshire, U. S. A.

The Granite Monthly.

COxNTENTS OF VOLUME XXH.

January— yune, iSgj.

After Many Years, Lou D. Stearns .

A Garden Song, F. H. Swift

A Letter, Frank West Rollins . . .

A LiLV, Augusta C. Seavey

A Naval Officer's Trip to Jerusalem, Ensign

Andrews, Mabel C, A New England Sabbath

A New England Sabbath, Mabel C. Andrews

A New Hampshire Artist. Maurice Baldwin

A New Year's Rhyme, Clarence Henr_v Pearson

A Reverie, Minadel . .

A Sketch of Hillsborough, Prof. Lsaac Copp

"At Evening Time it shall be Light," Fanny

At Midnight, Laura Garland Carr

Lloyd

H. 1

H. Chandler, U

unne

Baldwin, Maurice, A New Hampshire Artist
Barnstead, An Historical Address, John Wheelei
Bennett, Adelaide George, The New England Mayflower

Canaan, Le Roy Smart

Carr, Laura Garland, At Midnight

Caverly, L. Arolyn, On the Stair

The Dreams of June

The Spring

Chandler, Ensign Lloyd H., A Naval Officer's Trip
Cheney, John Vance, Singek, Sing
Clisbe, Virginia C. Hollis, .
Conwell, Annie J., Polly Tucker
Copp, Prof. Isaac, A Sketch of Hillsborough

lis Poole

S. N

to Jkrusale.m,

46, 115, i8g. 251. 316.

100

389

3'6

263

,186

186

31
54
40

'54
184

340

31
1 1

65
340
114

351
257
263

384
251

3S^
•54

3 :^ 7 73

CONTENTS.

Dawn, Day, and Darkness, Caroline M. Roberts
Durham, The Town of, Clarence Moores Weed .

i86
361

Educational Department, Fred Cowing . . 55, 126, 193, 260, 322, 390

Forty-third Annual Meeting New Hampshire State Teachers' Asso-
ciation, Clara E. Upton . . . . . .126

Helping a Teacher, J. M. Greenwood ....... 260

One Year's Experience in the Medical Inspection of Schools, and
THE Supervision Over the Isolation and Release of Infected
Persons, S. H. Durgin . . . . . . . . -55

Rules and Regulations for the Government of the Public Schools . 390
The Summer's Opportunities ......... 322

To One Who Wishes to Become a Teacher, Hon. Frank A. Hill . 193

Fletcher, Lisa A., To A Chickadee . . .

Gilsum, Dr. I. A. Loveland

Govving, Fred, Educational Department
Greenwood, Alice, 'Mongst the Hills of Merrimack

277

55, 126, 193, 260, 322, 390
153

Hanson, H. H., The Winter Tenants of an Old Well . . . -113

Hillsborough, A Sketch of. Prof. Isaac Copp . . . . . 154

History of the Sixteenth Regiment, New Hampshire Volunteers, Adj.

Luther Tracy Townsend . . . . .1, 83, 135, 242, 298, 341

Hollis, Virginia C, Clisb^ . . . . . . . . . . .251

Hurd, Willis Edwin, Two Quatrains: Laughter, The Snowflake . . . 108

Keeler, I. Eugene, Springtime

Lamb, Louis Albert, The Old Mill
Laurance, Ray, The Brown Thrush
Loveland, Dr. I. A., Gilsum

Metcalf, H. H.. Representative Agriculturists
Minadel, A Reverie ......

'MONGST the Hills of Merrimack, Alice Greenwood

241

321

277

41, 109, 311, 385
. 40
153

New Boston : An Historical a
New Hampshire Necrology

Allen, J. H.

Badger, Col. William

Barker, Col. Thomas E

Barrett, Charles F.

Bassett. Hon. William

Blanchard, George A.

I5lanchakd, Jonatha.n

BuELL, Henry A.

Bullard, Edwin M.

BuRLEY, Charles

Burpee, Edwin P.

Buttekfield, Alvin B.

Carter, Henry W.

nd Business Sketch, John Erastus Wildey

62, 132, 199, 261, 323,

21 1

393
64

393

262

132

133
62

199

200

63
200

CONTENTS.

New Hampshire Necrology {Continued) :
Chase, Martin .
Clark, Lemuel C.
Cross, Nelson
Culver, Benjamin L.
Davis, George W.
Dearborn, George E
Dearborn, Prof. H. A
Dodge, George W.
Dodge, John W.
Farnham, Rev. Luther
FiFiELD, Charles S.
Fowler, George R.
French. Hon. Reuben L.
Hale, Horatio .
Henderson, Daniel R
HoLMAN. Rev. J. B.
Hubbard, Capt. G. H
Kendrick, James R.

M.ARSHALL, WYZEMAN

Merrill, Dr. William
Mesekve, a. L. .
Morrison, John C.
Morse, Isaac S.
Olzendam, a. p.
Paige, John C. .
Perry, Gen. John J.
Skinner, Alonzo B.
Sleeper, G. H. .
Smart, Joseph B.
Spofford, John T.
Stevens, William S
SwAiNE, George
Tenney, Franklin
Tubes, Alfred L.
TwiTCHELL, Dr. George B
Whidden, Thomas J
Wing, Rev. Otis
Woodbury, Nathan G.
Young, Samuel M.

On THE Stair, L. Arolyn Caverly

Over the Ocean and Far Away, J. B. M. Wright.

Pearson, Clarence Henry, A New Year's Rhyme

When Gramper Sugars Off
Perfected, Augusta C Seavey .
Peter the Mariner, Mary H. Wheeler
Point of View, William Shannon
Polly Tucker, Annie J. Conwell

46. 115, 189, 251. 316,

Poole, Fanny H. Runnelis, "At Evening Time It Shall Be Light"

199
261
262

63. 133
262

394

393
199
199
262
132
324

63
132
134
262
262

64
133
134

64
394
394
324

62
261
134
323
394

63
133
324
199

393
134

134

114
274

54
187
389
274
125

352
184

CONTENTS.

Representative Agriculturists, H. H. Metcalf

Bailey, John

Clough, Philip C.

Farr, Noah

Gibson, Alonzo W.

Gould, Alfred J.

Keyes, Henry W.

Taylor, Thomas O.

Tilton, Zerah E. .
Roberts, Caroline M., Dawn, Day, and Darkness
Robinson, Col. J. W., The Model of the Pierce Statue
Rollins, Frank West. A Letter .

"The Old North End"
Rowe, Henry Kalloch, The New Year

Seavey, Augusta C, A Lily

Perfected .....
Singer, Sing, John Vance Cheney
Slxteenth Regiment, New Hampshire

Luther Tracy Townsend
Smart. Le Roy, Canaan
Sonnet to Emerson, F. Harper Swift
Springtime, L Eugene Keeler
Stearns, Lou D., After Many Years
Swaine, C. Jennie. Water Lilies
Swift, F. Harper, A Garden Song

Sonnet to Emerson . ' .•

Volunteers, H

41, 109, 311, 385

1 1 1

313
' 109

385
41
387
186
185
27

325
44

316

389
384

istory of the. Adj.
I, 83, 135, 242, 298, 341

9
241

100

389

The Brown Thrush, Ray Laurance . . . . . ■. . . -321

The Drea.ms of June, L. Arolyn Caverly 351.

Tm: Model of the Pierce Statue, Col. J. W. Robinson . . . .185

The New England Mayflower, Adelaide George Bennett . . . .316

The New Year, Henry Kalloch Rowe . . . . . . . -44

The Old Church on the Hills, Mildred C. Warren . . . . .210

The Old Mill, Louis Albert Lamb 31

"The Old North End," Frank West Rollins 325

The Spring, L. Arolyn Caverly . 257

The Town of Durham, Clarence Moores Weed . . . . . 361

The Winter Tenants of an Old Well, H. H. Hanson . . • '13

Thvng, J. Wakren, Maurice Baldwin . 3'

To a Chickadee, Lisa A. Fletcher 99

Townsend, Luther Tracy, History of the Sixteenth Regiment, New Hamp-
shire Volunteers i, 83, 135, 242, 298. 341

Two Ouatrains : Laughter, The .Snowflake, Willis Edwin Hurd . . . 108

Warren, Mildred C, The Old Church on the Hill

Water Lilies, C. Jennie Swaine ....

Weed, Clarence Moores, The Town of Durham

Wiieeler. John, Barn.stead, An Historical Address

When Gramper Sugars Off, Clarence Henry Pearson

Wildey, John Erastus, New Boston: An Historical and Business Sketch

Wright, J. P). AL, 0\'kr Tin-: Ocean and Far Away .....

210

45
361

1 1
187
21 1

274

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The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXH.

JANUARY, 1897,

No.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT, NEW HAMP-
SHIRE VOLUNTEERS.

By Adjutant Lut/ier Tracy Townsend.
PREFACE.

EVERAIy years have passed since the adjutant of the Six-
teenth New Hampshire regiment was appointed by his
comrades to write their regimental history. Other duties
have prevented his entering upon the composition of the
work until the present year. The nearlj^ completed man-
uscript was submitted to the surviving members of the
regiment who were present at the reunion held in August,
1896, at The Weirs, and its immediate publication was requested. The
committee having the publication of the histor^^ in charge, after a careful
consideration of the matter, reached the conclusion that it first should be
brought out in some one of the New Hampshire publications, and the
Granite Monthly was selected.

The author was led to undertake the writing of this history from his
personal interest in the remarkable record of the regiment and from the
frequently expressed desire of many of his army comrades. There is no
question, we presume, that, other things being equal, the officers best qual-
ified to prepare a regimental history are the colonel and his adjutant, the
adjutant, perhaps, having some advantages over the colonel. Nothing re-
lating to the regiment takes place at headquarters with which the adjutant
is not made acquainted. x\ll regimental orders pass through his hands and
receive his signature. He is in touch with the officers on the one hand,
and with the men on the other. It is almost a dut}- imposed upon him to
keep a journal of all important orders and movements, — at least every effi-
cient adjutant will do this. But in all this, there is one drawback : namely,
the writer is forced to introduce himself in evidence as to some parts of the
record, and must therefore be personal in his statements, or else employ a
kind of cumbersome circumlocution which is alwaj's more or less a literary

2 HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

offense. We therefore apologize in advance for any apparent breach of
deHcacy or modesty that may appear in this narrative.

The sincere thanks of the author are here tendered especially to Com-
rade Henry L. Johnson and also to several other members of our regimental
association for man}^ suggestions offered by them, for several incidents they
have furnished which had escaped either the author's attention or memory,
and especially for the patience with which both officers and men have borne
the delay of the publication of the eventful stor}' of what their regiment did
and suffered.

Washington, D. C, November, 1896.

CHAPTER I.

NORTHERN TROOPS AT DISADVANTAGE.

HE civil and political
condition of our coun-
Xxy, just prior to the
War of the Rebellion,
and the causes that led
to that conflict of arms, already have
become such an important part of our
national history and so often have
been dwelt upon by different regi-
mental historians, that with the ex-
ception of brief and incidental allu-
sions, we shall pass in silence all such
general and familiar matters, confin-
ing attention in this volume chiefly
to the organization and actual service
of our regiment.

As our object is not to make a cum-
bersome volume, but one that, without
taking overmuch of the reader's time,
easily can be read, we shall exclude
certain other matters which are found
in many histories of this kind. That
is, instead of filling the body of our
history with the full text of the or-
ders that were received from division
and brigade headquarters, or even
with the full text of the orders is-
sued from our own regimental head-
quarters, which of themselves al-
most would fill a good-sized vol-

ume, we simply shall note in brief
that such and such orders were re-
ceived and obeyed. Copies of all
such orders are in the state and na-
tional archives, and can be con-
sulted, if one so desires.

There is, however, one somewhat
general topic that relates to the
poorly prepared condition of the
Northern troops to cope at the outset
with those of the South, which is so
involved in any historical treatment of
our army life as to justify emphatic
and even frequent repetition. We,
therefore, make an exception to the
special purpose we have in mind,
while preparing these pages, and, by
way of an introduction, shall call at-
tention to the reasons wh}^ our troops,
especially during the earlier months
of their life in the service, not infre-
quently appeared to considerable dis-
advantage. We make this excep-
tion all the more readily because
we do not remember to have seen this
matter over-emphasized in any regi-
mental history we have examined,
and often it has not been touched
upon at all.

It requires only the most hasty

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

glance at the half century preced-
ing: the conflict between the North
and South, to enable any one at all
familiar with our national history to
recognize the correctness of the state-
ment that the period from 1815 to
1861, excepting the war with Mexico,
was in our republic a time of peace.
The people of the Northern states,
with few exceptions, felt the utmost
security, not dreaming that a civil
war was possible. He who at the
North then talked war was regarded
as an alarmist. During that time,
therefore, the military spirit of the
free states was allowed to slumber.

On the other hand, especially from
1830 to 1 86 1, the people of the slave
states were preparing for what seemed
to them a possible, if not a probable,
conflict with the North on the ques-
tions of slavery and state rights.

During the twelve years immedi-
ately preceding the rebellion, Jeffer-
son Davis had completely in hand the
military affairs of our entire coun-
try. He was chairman of the senate
committee on military matters from
1849 to 1 85 1. He was secretarj^ of
war from 1853 to 1857. He was
again chairman of the senate commit-
tee on military matters from 1857 to
1 86 1. During those twelve years,
Jefferson Davis was busy but not in
the interest of the entire republic.
Through his scheming, the regular
army had been ordered to distant
and not easily accessible parts of our
country. Indeed, the army was so far
depleted that at the breaking out of
the rebellion there were scarcely ten
thousand names on the United States
army rolls. The war-ships, too, of
the republic had been dispatched to
distant parts of the world. Northern
fortifications had been neglected and

dismantled, while those in the South
had been thoroughly equipped, in
some instances with supplies taken
from Northern forts and arsenals.
By order of the war department, of
which Mr. Davis was chief, the mus-
kets of the disbanded militia compa-
nies of the Northern states were
shipped to Washington, and thence
were distributed through the South
ern states. The author will be par-
doned for introducing an illustration
of these proceedings which came to
his personal knowledge.

In the year 1857, a military com-
pany, of which he w'as a member,
was organized by the students of
Dartmouth College chiefly for the
purpose of exercise.

In the college at that time there
were several Southern students.
Whether or not they were inform-
ers, we do not know, but not long
after the organization of our com-
pan}', there came a United States
government order to the town au-
thorities of Hanover, who had loaned
the muskets of its disbanded military
company to the students, to ship all
militarj^ equipments in town without
delay to Washington. To us the
order was a cause of much regret.
A communication from the students
was sent to Washington, giving the
facts and requesting that the mus-
kets might be retained. The reply
came that those arms must be for-
warded to Washington, but that the
government inunediately would send
to the students an equal number of
improved Springfield muskets. We
w^ere satisfied, not to say delighted.
We looked. We waited. But we
had been deceived. The improved
Springfield muskets never reached
us, and the old ones with which we

4 HISTORY OF THE SIXIEENTH REGIMENT.

had drilled were not again seen by had been schooled in military mat-
Northern men until captured from ters at the government expense and
the hands of Confederate soldiers on who were then holding army com-
Southern soil. missions. They of the South had

We need not proceed further in money in their treasur}- ; ours had

this review of what appeared to be been pillaged. Their people for the

Southern treason, Southern theft, larger part were united ; ours, di-

Southern deceit, and Southern out- vided. So pronounced was the di-

rage, on both a large and small vision of sentiment at the North, as

scale. The recollection of these to slavery and the rights of states

things makes one knit the brow, to secede, that Franklin Pierce,

though nearly forty j^ears have inter- while in the presidential chair, said

vened. publicly that if blood flowed in the

In too many ways for us on these approaching conflict it would be in

pages to recount, those seceding Northern streets, not on Southern

states, during the score and a half of soil. And Jefferson Davis, speaking

years designated, were playing their of the impending troubles, assured

part with consummate skill, while the Southern people that he should

we at the North were asleep. They be able to hold in the palm of his

zealously cultivated what is termed hand all the blood that would be

the military spirit ; while we at the shed. Those leaders in the secession

North were absorbed with business movement thought they had the fed-

and the making of money. They eral government and the people of

were intending war, if their purposes the Northern states completely in

could not otherwise be accomplished, their grasp; and seemingly they had.

while we, stripped of military de- They were confident. When fire

fenses, were hugging the silly delu- opened on Fort Sumter, the leaders

sion that the era of war was at an in the Confederate states thought

end. The military organizations of that the people of the North instantly

the South were under thorough disci- would be paralyzed,

pline ; those of the North, with few But quite unexpectedly that attack,

exceptions, were in most deplorable like a thunderbolt from a clear skj^

condition. They of the South were startled into vigorousness the torpor

well supplied with military leaders, of the Republic. The slumbering

and the majorit}^ of the West Point heroism and patriotism of the North

graduates were either in the South and West were aroused. There was

or were Confederate sympathizers, a conflagration of patriotism, ending

while we at the North did not know in a fusion of the different political

which way to turn for skilled com- parties and the coming together of

manders. President L,incoln was men who had been holding and de-

once asked why he appointed such fending conflicting opinions. So that

civilians as Generals Butler and when the bugle-call sounded over the

Banks to lead army corps. His land, men stopped and listened; the

reply was, that he was perfectly sure prayer was closed when only half

of the patriotism of these men, but offered ; the plow was unhitched and

was not sure of that of the men who stood still in the furrow ; the hammer

HISTORY OP THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

lay in quiet on the anvil ; the man-
uscript of the author, though near-
ing its conclusion, was folded up
and laid aside ; Sabbath religious
services were interrrupted and con-
verted into war meetings ; the spirit
of 1776 was the spirit of 1861 and '62,
and there was organized for the pro-
tection of the Union an army of as
brave men as ever faced an enemy,
but who, for the larger part, were
utterly ignorant of military science.

Seventy-five thousand volunteer
troops answered with a quick re-
sponse the first call of President Lin-
coln. Other calls came and were
answered, and yet the darkness con-
tinued to deepen. Month after month
passed, and there was nothing but a
dismal record for the Federal troops.
Nor should this occasion surprise, for
ill prepared were our raw recruits to
fight a thoroughly disciplined foe.
We had courage, be it repeated, but
no skill in warfare. We are not ex-
travagant in saying that any one of
our Grand Army men who are left is
better prepared to command com-
panies, and even regiments, than
were scores of those who, after the
first call for volunteer troops, were
given high commissions.

In some instances, as the reader
may recollect, sergeants of police
forces and captains of fire-engine
and hook and ladder companies be-
came regimental ofl[icers on the sim-
ple ground that they knew some-
what of marching men in compa-
nies. Others not ciualified even to
that extent were commissioned. In-
fantry regiments were formed and
hurried to the front, in which were
men who, up to the time of enlist-
ment, never had taken sight along a
gun barrel ; artillery companies were

formed in which were men who never
had taken in their hands a cannon
ramrod ; cavalry companies were
formed in which were men who never
had handled a sword or sat astride a
horse.

These inexperienced men, at great
disadvantage, at terrible sacrifice, and
on the field of battle in the face of a
trained, determined, and desperate
foe, had to learn the arts of war. Is
it any surprise, therefore, that our
troops sometimes appeared to disad-
vantage ? And more than this ; scores
of regiments were hurried to the
front well-nigh foodless and shelter-
less. Transportation was frequently
inadequate. The army was often in
one place while its ammunition was
in another. Inexperienced commis-
saries and quartermasters much of
the time were bewildered, knowing
next to nothing of the duties de-
volved upon them. The brave
troops, meanwhile, were left under
blistering suns, midst drenching
storms and piercing winter winds,
unprotected and half starving. One
marvels sometimes that a solitary
soldier of our volunteer troops lived
to be mustered out of service. And
during all this time, they of the
South were fighting skilfully and
desperateh'. The day of our victory
was, therefore, of necessity long de-
layed, and for months our people
could not guess which wa^^ the scales
would tip.

It was during these darkest hours
of the war, the summer of 1862, that
the call for three hundred thousand
volunteer nine-months' men, sounded
among the hills of New England.
The romance of war had long since
given place to its stern realities.
The sick, wounded, and maimed sol-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

(liers were returning to their homes,
and the stories of the hardships they
had endured were beginning to be
familiar as household words, and the
meaning of the word 7var was com-
ing to be realized in its fulness.
It was no longer an excursion
vSouth at the government expense,
but meant possible, if not probable,
death from bullet or disease. The
men that answered this almost de-
spairing call for volunteer troops did
so, therefore, with a far better under-
standing of what the meaning of it
all was than had been the case with
many of their predecessors at the time
of their enlistment.

It is well to bear in mind also that
the large majority of those who en-
listed in obedience to this urgent
call of President lyincoln were not
among the surplus of our population,
but were men who had homes, were
engaged in the various industrial,
mechanical, business, and professional
occupations and, therefore, at great
personal sacrifice in the majority of
instances, placed their names on the
rolls of our patriotic and volunteer
army.

There can be no question, there-
fore, as to the courage and patriot-
ism of these late volunteers. But the
trouble was that they were utterly
ignorant of everything relating to
military life. This was true, as we
have suggested, of every branch of
the service. This, however, also
must be said, they were apt scholars
in the art and science of war, and it
was not long before they learned to
do anything that any soldier on earth
ever did on the field of battle or in
the presence of an enemy. Infantry
boys who at first shut their eyes when
they pulled the trigger, after a while

came to love and pet the musket as
if it were a trusted friend. Artillery
bo3^s who at first more than once
put their fingers in their ears when
the cannon went off, after a while
became used to the thunders of an
engagement, seized the ramrod, sent
home the cartridge, and flashed the
cannon sooner than the enemy was
ready for it. And cavalr}^ boys who
in their earlier engagements with the
enemy clung with both hands to keep
astride their horses, after a while
learned to ride at a breakneck speed,
slashing through and flanking the
most chivalric troops of which the
Southern army could boast. States-
men and soldiers in Europe who
after the Battle of Bull Run lost all
faith in the power and disposition of
Northern volunteers to fight, at length
confessed that the world never had
seen better fighting. The confeder-
ate troops, who at the outset despised
our mettle and laughed at our awk-
wardness on the field, at length
trembled and fled when they saw us
coming. When our men had learned
the arts of war and had confidence in
their leaders, when they realized the
perils that threatened the national
existence, and when the resolution to
conquer or to die had become su-
preme, then we were a match for anj^
troops that ever were drawn up in
line of battle on this or on the other
side of the Atlantic ocean. And
these pages we hope may worthily
commemorate the courage and patri-
otism of the men of New Hampshire,
who, in the gloomiest hours of the
rebellion, left their homes and their
various occupations and professions
to suffer and die for the preservation
of the Union, whose overthrow had
been threatened.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

CHAPTER II.

CONSTITUTION AND ORGANIZATION OF THE REGIMENT.

BOUT November i, 1862,
the following roster of
the field, staff, and com-
pany officers was com-
pleted :

Colonel, James Pike, Sanbornton ;
lieutenant-colonel, Henry W. Fuller,
Concord; major, Samuel Davis, Jr.,
Warner; adjutant, Luther T. Town-
send, Salem ; quartermaster, Albert H.
Drowm, Fishennlle ; surgeon, Thom-
as Sanborn, Newport; assistant sur-
geons, Cyrus M. Fisk, Bradford, Syl-
vester Campbell, Sanbornton, Herbert
Sleeper, Grantham; chaplain, Ralza
M. Manley, Northfield ; sergeant-ma-
jors, Frank B. Modica and Charles
J. Wright, Sanbornton; quartermas-
ter-sergeant, George M. Wilkins,
Henniker; commissary-sergeant, Da-
vid D. Smith, Concord ; hospital stew-
ards, Paul S. Adams, Newport, Clar-
ence L. Wilkins, Warner; sutler, K.
A. Crawford, Dover; band director,
Marciene H. Whitcomb, Newport.

We may say, in passing, that the
efficiency of the band of the Six-
teenth was recognized early in the
campaign, and it was placed at the
head of our brigade, and its compe-
tent and genial leader is kindly re-
membered by more than one soldier
wdiom he personally helped and en-
couraged .

Company A: Captain, Elias F.
Smith, Lebanon ; first lieutenant,
Bela Sawyer, Lyme ; second lieuten-
ant, Charles S. Cooper, Concord.

Company B: Captain, Albert J.
Hersey, Wolfeborough ; first lieu-

tenant, Oramus W. Burnham. Hills-
borough ; second lieutenant, Albert
W. Wiggin, Wolfeborough; .second
lieutenant, Alva S. Libby, Wolfe-
borough.

Company C : Captain, Aaron A.
Clark, Wilton; first lieutenant, Hen-
ry M. Mills, Milford ; second lieuten-
ant, Joseph E. O'Donnell, Mason.

Companj' I) : Captain, Daniel E.
Howard, Hopkinton ; first lieuten-
ant, Charles H. Herbert, Concord;
second lieutenant, Robert S. Davis,
Concord.

Company E : Captain, Jonathan
P. Sanborn, Franklin; first lieuten-
ant, David E. Burbank, Webster;
second lieutenant, Prescott Jones,
Wilmot.

Company V : Captain, Charles H.
Woods, Fitzwilliam ; first lieutenant,
Edgar E. Adams, Grantham; second
lieutenant, John vS. Baker, Henniker ;
second lieutenant, Frank B. Modica,
Henniker.

Company G: Captain, George W.
Bosworth, Lyndeborough ; first lieu-
tenant, Barton A. Ballon, Weare ;
second lieutenant, Martin L. Col-
burn, New Boston.

Company H : Captain, John L.
Rice, Cornish : first lieutenant. Proc-
tor D. Ward, Bradford; second lieu-
tenant, Philip C. Bean, Warner.

Company I: Captain, David Buf-
fum, 2d, Swanzey; first lieutenant,
Jud.son Wilkins, Washington ; sec-
ond lieutenant. Brooks K. Webber,
Antrim.

Company K: Captain, Joseph K.

NoTi-:. — Tliere will be found in the completed history a list containing the names of all the men who. during
the whole or any part of the time of enlistment, were enrolled in the ranks of our regiment. We s''all give also
the occupations represented in the regiment, and the nationalities and other like matters of interest.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

Thatcher, Portsmouth ; first lieuten-
ant, George T. Wildes, Portsmouth ;
second lieutenant, William A. Haven,
Portsmouth.

Our preliminary camp life while at
Concord, which was on the pine
plains north of the city on the east
side of the Merrimack river, was for
the larger part uneventful. The reg-
ular company and battalion drills,
dress parade, guard mounting, and
policing of the grounds, kept our
men occupied, though not labori-
ously so, during the bright and ex-
hilarating days of October and early
November.

On the fifteenth of November,
there was witnessed by quite a
gathering of citizens and soldiers
our initial dress parade. We cer-
tainly did not disgrace ourselves,
though there were some hitches in
the movements of the men, and not a
little anxiety and uneasiness on the
part of the officers. But the day
came, and not long after, when we
had no hesitancy in appearing on
dress parade before any class or num-
ber of witnesses, and soon after our
arrival in lyouisiana no regiment at
dress parade was more highly com-
plimented by the staff officers of Gen-
eral Banks than ours.

While at Concord, the regiment
held regular prayer and religious
conference meetings, organized a
temperance association, honoring the
adjutant by giving it his name and
by electing him its first president.
These various meetings were con-
tinued until the active campaign in
Louisiana brought them to a close.

As an illustration of the spirit of
our regiment, we give an incident
outside the routine duties of the en-
campment that occurred while we

were at Concord. A man bearing
the name Russell appeared among
us, whose genial ways and smooth
words won the confidence of some of
our boys, and also their money.

He was, as it turned out, a profes-
sional gambler, and before his real
character was known, had taken the
last dollar at a game of cards from at
least one of our boys, who afterward
"told on him." The evidence was
so conclusive that Russell was seized
and placed astride a stout pine rail
from which the rough bark had not
been taken, and no fewer than three
hundred of our men carried him to
Concord and delivered him to the
police authorities of that city. While
crossing the bridge, the cry was
raised, " Throw him into the river."
A movement was made as if to do
this. His passionate plea for life be-
trayed his terror ; he was spared this
baptism and soon after was set at
liberty ; but it is very doubtful if he
ever after attempted to ply his pro-
fession among the sturdy troops of
New Hampshire.

We should not be faithful to the
true historic spirit, however, were we
to leave the impression that all the
members of our regiment were saints ;
for there were among them some sin-
ners. These unsanctified ones began
even while at Concord to betray fora-
ging proclivities, which served us
many a good turn afterwards when
we were in the enemy's country.
They had, of course, no justification
for indulging these aptitudes while
they were still on the soil of New
Hampshire. A turkey roost was vis-
ited by some of these bad boys and
the stolen turkeys were brought into
camp at midnight. The guard had
been bought up and it was quite ini-

SONNET TO EMERSON.

possible for the officers to discover
the perpetrators of this theft. In
justice to all concerned, however, it
should be said that the thieves in
this particular instance were profes-
sionals, who had enlisted to secure
the bounty offered by certain towns,
and who deserted before the regi-
ment left the state. A little later,
a barrel of cider was stolen, rolled
from no small distance, and secreted
in a trench dug in one of the tents,
and then covered with straw and an
army blanket. By what means the
boys in the neighborhood of that
tent had cider twice or three times
a da}', was more than the innocent
ones could understand. But it goes
without saying that these prelimi-
nary thefts were condemned by the
officers of the regiment and by all
our men except a very few.

There was still another incident
of note while at Concord which illus-
trates the spirit of our men.

Overcoats had been issued before

we were mustered into service.
They looked well and were of darker
color than the ordinarj' army blue.
But they proved to be made of the
cheapest shoddy goods and on being
wet the d^'e stuff used in coloring
them stained everything it touched.
It was affirmed almost under oath,
certainly with the oaths of some of
the boys, that a barrel of ink could
be made from each overcoat. This
attempted imposition, however, mis-
carried, for our men absolutely re-
fused to be mustered into service
until there was an exchange of over-
coats. The governor of the state
pleaded with the men not to make
trouble ; but they were resolute and
firm as the hills surrounding them.
A few days later the exchange was
made. The judgment may seem
severe but was freely expressed that
the manufacturers of those goods
and the ones who attempted to palm
them off on to the government ought
to have been shot.

\_To /'(' colli i nil cd.^

SONNET TO EMERvSON.

By F. Harper S%vift.

With eyes unblinded by the glare of creed.

You gazed on God in Nature's every part.

And nothing found too mean for your great heart.

The smallest insect or the lowest weed.

In " each and all " 3'ou saw the marvellous seed

That from its author claimed a royal start.

And bore upon its face an open chart

For him who had the prophet mind to read.

Your thoughts arose like sacerdotal flame,

And threw about the world celestial light.

Until from every crevice beauties came

To shine like star-dust in the depths of night.

With you all Nature man might kindred name,

And see as one pure whole the soul of right.

' r-

BARNSTEAD— AN HISTORICAI^ ADDRESS."

By John Wheeler, M. D.

irHIIND and generous invi-
tation of present resi-
dents at Barnstead Pa-
rade has led former res-
idents and other inter-
ested friends to unite with them this
day in commemorating a pleasant
event — the completion of one hun-
dred 5"ears since the erection of this
church was commenced. On the
eastern hemisphere, well marked his-
toric periods are reckoned b}^ thou-
sands of years, while one hundred
years is nearly one fourth of the time
which has elapsed since America
became known to the civilized world.
We therefore regard with much
interest public buildings which have
stood for a century; especiallj^
churches, which are presumed to
promote the best influences in the
community.

The part assigned to me on this
occasion is to make some mention of
this church and other places of wor-
ship in Barnstead, and some relations
of those who have worshiped therein.
A charter of Barnstead was granted
to Rev. Joseph Adams, of Newing-
ton, and one hundred and five associ-
ates, in 1727, by Lieutenant Gov-
ernor John Wentworth.

Mr. Adams was graduated from
Harvard College in 17 10, and was or-
dained at Newington in 17 15, where
he died, in i7J>3, aged 93 years. He
was pastor sixty-eight years, and

preached till just before his death.
His brother, John Adams, of Brain-
tree, Mass., a farmer and mechanic,
was the father of John Adams, sec-
ond president of the United States.

Peace, after the French and In-
dian war, was declared in 1763.
The last act of Indian hostility in the
Suncook Valley was the capture of
Mrs. McCoy, of Epsom, in 1747. On
the southwest of Barnstead, Chiches-
ter, which included Pittsfield, was
settled in 1758. Gilmanton, on the
northwest, was settled in 1761. New
Durham was settled before 1764.
Rochester, including Farmington,
(till 1798) and Barrington, including
Strafford, (till 1820) had been .settled.
Loudon was settled in 1760.

Of the seven towns which touch
the border of Barnstead, the settle-
ment of six preceded its own. The
colonial governor and council having
ordered the construction of a high-
way to be called the Province Road,
which was to lead from Durham
through Barrington, Barnstead, Gil-
manton, and onward to Coos and
Canada, John Tasker, of Madbury,
thought it a good time to settle Barn-
stead, and came here about 1767, in
the summer, and with others built
a rude building of logs called a
camp, for the shelter of animals and
those who cared for them.

He stored very good hay from a
large beaver meadow, which was fed

' Delivered at the celebration of the centenniai anniversary of the Congregational dmrch, Barnstead Parade.

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

to cattle driven from Madbur}^ by
Benjamin Emerson, and Joseph and
Nathaniel Tasker, sons of John Tas-
ker, who were the first white men that
passed the winter in Barnstead, mak-
ing such progressive improvements
as were profitable for pioneers. John
Tasker was a land survej-or, and

I '7^

■^

Rev. Enos George.

had been employed in Barnstead in
new surveys and in tracing lines of
former surveys of others. He had
a thorough knowledge of the location
and value of lots, of which he had
many in various parts of the town,
purchased by him at public sales,
in Newington and Portsmouth, for
taxes.

The tract of land selected by him
for a homestead, where he built his

camp, was the extreme southeast
corner of Barnstead, next to Straf-
ford, then Barrington, whence he
might reach the nearest inhabitants
by the easiest passage of Blue Hill
(which extends nearly across the
whole town of Strafford), in time of
need. It had a pleasant ridge for
habitation ; abundant
supply of water from
a perennial brook with
a high source; a
meadow, cleared by
beavers, which fur-
nished ample supply
of fodder till it could
be produced by culti-
vation. It embraced
Adams pond, near
Wild Goose pond,
both of which have
been famous for pick-
erel. It was crossed
b}^ Crooked Run
stream, where large
trout were plenty. It
had abundance and
v„ i " variety of timber.

One large hill was
well covered by a
heavy growth of
chestnut. Trees are
still standing there
which are estimated
to be between two
and three hundred 3^ears old. The
(then coming) Province Road after-
wards passed a long way through it.
The place, curtailed in propor-
tions, is now owned and occupied by
Deacon John Tasker, of the fourth
generation.

I have spoken this much of John
Tasker because I could not get sat-
isfactory information that any one
settled in Barnstead before him.

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

John Clark came from L,ee early
and settled on the lot where South
Barnstead church stands. It is re-
lated that he walked from Tasker's
to visit his lot. On his return, he
discovered, by tracks on the snow,
that he had been followed part of
the way by a catamount. His de-
scendants were numer-
ous. Man}' of them hav- , — -
ing .settled near him, the
region where the}' re-
sided received the name
Clarktown.

Four distinct families
bearing the name Bun-
ker, and Aaron dies-
ley, William L,ord, and
others settled in the
south part of the town,
not far from Suncook
river.

Samuel Jenness, Ralph
Hall, and Rufus Ewers
settled around the pond
near Deacon Leslie lyOu-
gee's. The first two
were soldiers in the War
of the Revolution, in
which Hall perished.

Samuel Stevens, John
Tuttle, Ezekiel East-
man, and Benjamin Ed-
gerly, also David Jacobs
and John Sanborn, both
soldiers of the Revolution — the lat-
ter of "the unreturning brave" —
represented, in part, the Beauty Hill
vicinity.

James Eock, Deacon Ebenezer
Nutter, Timothy Davis, and Nicho-
las Dudley were some of the settlers
of North Barnstead before the War
of the Revolution closed.

Many of the earliest settlers in
town located near John Tasker, or in

or near Clarktown. After the Prov-
ince Road was made available, by
the erection of a better bridge, " nine
rods long and eighteen feet high"
over Suncook river, travel and pop-
ulation increased.

The first census, taken in 1773,
showed a population of 152. By

Rev. William O. Carr, Lynn, Mass.

the census of 1775, there were 250
inhabitants. This road proved to
be what it promised, a great advan-
tage. It extended the whole length
of the southwest side of the town,
a varying distance, near a half mile
from iMttsfield line. One starting
from much of the town on a journey
to the coast or to the north countrj',
moved first out to the " Road," or
"Great Road," as it was called.

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

Much travel continued on this road
till its course was changed b}^ rail-
roads.

The early settlers on, or near,
Province Road were Ebenezer Ad-
ams, Thomas Snell, Cornelius Kirby,
John Nutter, John Bickford, Joseph
Nelson, John Nelson, Hatevil Nutter,
and Benjamin Nutter, on the east
side of Suncook river, and Charles
Hodgdon, Moses Dennett, Dr. Joseph
Adams, Ezekiel Adams, Nathaniel
Adams, Richard Sinclair, Stephen
Pickering, and Jethro Batchelder, on
the west side of the river. Dr,
Joseph Adams was a son of Rev.
Joseph Adams, the Newington min-
ister. He was probably a graduate
of Harvard College, in 1745 or 1748.
He was educated for the ministry,
but preferred and practised medicine.

I could learn of but one profes-
sional service performed by him after
he came to Barnstead. Books in
the lyatin language and manu-
script sermons were among his ef-
fects inherited by his son Nathaniel.
Three of his sons settled in Barn-
stead and one in Gilmanton.

The numerous Adamses in this
and the neighboring towns mostly
descended from him. More than
twenty years ago, eager inquir-
ies were addressed to such persons
in this community as might know
something of him, for information to
clear up an obscure phase of his life.
His desired autograph was kindly
cut from a deed by which he con-
veyed, in 1784, a lot of land to
Moses Dennett, which is still the
Dennett homestead, and forwarded
by the present owner, Oliver Au-
gustus Dennett.

Dr. Adams settled on the high-
land, above Beauty pond, near the

Dennett place, and on the opposite
side of the Province Road. The cel-
lar of his log house can be outlined.
His frame house still exists, and is
owned and occupied by Mrs. Eliz'a
(Randall) Day, a great-granddaughter
of Benjamin Randall. From what I
could learn from two old ladies who
knew him when they were quite
young, I think he may have been
an invalid in his last years. John
Adams, second president of the
United States, refers to him thus in
his diary, —

"June, 1 77 1. — AtTilton'sin Ports-
mouth, I met with my cousin Joseph
Adams, whose face I was once as
glad to see as I should have been to
see an angel. The sight of him gave
me a new feeling. When he was at
college, he used to come to Braintree
with his brother Ebenezer. How I
used to love him ! He is broken to
pieces with rheumatism and gout
now."

His grave is on a part of his old
homestead, now owned by heirs of
the late William Roberts. It is
marked by a natural, flat stone, on
which is inscribed, "I. A. Aet. 78."

The charter of Barnstead required
of the proprietors that a meeting-
house be built for the public worship
of God within the term of four years.
But if prevented by Indian wars be-
fore three years expired, then three
years were allowed them after the ex-
piration of the war to build a church.
At an indefinite time, not long before
the town was settled, the proprietors
sent workmen from Newington, who
built a small church of logs north of,
and near, the baptizing place in Little
Branch river, on the farm of Samuel
Clark, in Clarktown.

Eevi Clark, father of Samuel, who

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

was born in 1773 and lived eight}^-
nine years, mostly on this farm, often
spoke to his son, now eighty-four
years old, of seeing the log church
with sides and ends upright but roof
fallen. He also recollected a camp
made of logs, nearer Little Branch
river, which sheltered the workmen
during their job. He believed the
tradition that after the church was
done, a workman, Mr. Lord, entered
it and uttered a prayer, — the only re-
ligious service which ever occurred
within its walls. The veracity of
Levi and Samuel Clark may not be
questioned. The onl}^ object of the
proprietors in building this log
church seems to have been to hold
the lands by doubtful conformity to
the conditions of the charter and not
for the public worship of God.

The population of Barnstead in
1790 was 807. If the proportion of
boys, sixteen years of age and under,
to the whole number was the same
as b}' the first census of 1773, there
would have been more than 200 boys
in town, and the same number of un-
married females.

Where did all these men and
women, boys and girls, go to church ?
There was no church in town, and
there never had been any except the
old log church and that had tumbled
to pieces. There were no Sabbath
schools, no Quarterlies, no Sabbath
school libraries, no Sabbath school
concerts, no Sabbath school excur-
sions, no Christian Endeavorers, no
Junior Endeavorers, no Praying
Bands, no Christian Crusaders, no
Salvation Army, no Ballington-Booth
Volunteers, and only think of it,
there was not a single boy or a single
girl in this whole town that had a
bicycle !

In 1784, the first school teacher
was emploj'ed in town. His name
was Cornelius Kirby. His school
was taught in a private house, as
there was no school-house. The first
money voted for schools was ^^30, in
1785. In 1792, the town provided
that five school-houses should be
built in two years. Money was scarce
just after the War of the Revolution.
Isaac W. Hammond, state editor of
the Revolutionary rolls, volunteers
the statement that Barnstead was
well represented in that war. But
few of its inhabitants were in easy
circumstances at that time. With
most of them economy was compul-
sor3% others had a hard struggle to
obtain such shelter, raiment, and
food as they had.

On the first day of May, 1796, the
town having been without church or
minister for about twenty-nine years,
since the first settlers located here,
Eli Bunker furnished the following
bond :

"This may certify that I, the sub-
scriber, promise to give Charles
Hodgdon, Rufus Evans, Jonathan
Young, and Joseph Bunker, a com-
mittee chosen by a bod}- of men for
the purpose of erecting a meeting-
house in the north part of Barnstead,
as committee men for said proprie-
tors, a deed of a piece of land for the
use of said meeting-house, any time
when said meeting-hou.se is built,
and a parade 27 rods b}' Dr Jewett's,
and running back from said road so
far as 25 rods towards the river,
which is to be left a square for said
parade ; on which is not to be erected
an}' building excepting for the use of
said church, or meeting-house, any
time when said committee shall de-
mand it, which is to be free as their

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

property so long as there is a meet-
ing-house to stand there. As witness
my hand, Barnstead, May i, 1796,
EH Bunker. Benjamin Nutter, Ben-
jamin Hodgdon."

This church was commenced and
finished outside, and painted yellow,
with south front door and two end

with square, panneled pews, with a
rail and balusters and hinged seats
on two sides in some pews and
three in others, and a door which
could be securely buttoned. There
was an altar and a high pulpit,
which was entered by a flight of
stairs with two landings, through a

John Wheeler, M. D., Pittsfield.

porches for entrance below, with
stairs to reach the entrances to the
galleries. A floor, temporary seats,
and other arrangements were placed
inside so that it was used for worship
by a community that was greatly
gratified by the privilege. It was
thoroughly completed in 1799, and
dedicated September 16, of that
year.

It had galleries on three sides,

door which the minister always but-
toned carefully, as he entered. The
desk was cushioned, as well as the
seat, and there was a window in
the rear with a half-circular top,
unlike the other windows of the
church. It had a large sounding-
board, or rather box, above the pul-
pit, elaborately finished, as was the
front of the pulpit, with mouldings
and angles. Its attachment above

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

seemed dubiously frail to me, and as
my father's pew was well in front, I
used to speculate with much anxiety
about its falling on the minister's
head, and bouncing over on me.
The galleries were finished carefully
with mouldings and supported by
cylindrical pillars. The painting was

in the galleries, if he could get per-
mission. But this was not always a
safe place, for self-constituted tith-
ingmen would sometimes make fierce
attacks on the hair or ears of a
wrong-doer. I have still a pungent
recollection of my experience in
those cosey seats.

Rev. David Garland.

dark brown. The talk about the
Bedlam-like tumult, for a half a min-
ute, attending the replacing of the
seats, after prayer, purposely in-
creased by the youngsters, is non-
sense. People were reverent in
those days and performed the act
decently and in order, with very little
noise. Youngsters dared not cause
confusion. If a boy wished "to cut
up " he would go to the sunn}' seats

The finishing of this church, in
its original form, was creditable to
Richard Sinclair, who directed it, as
agent or contractor. Its architec-
tural proportions and style of finish
surpassed most churches of its class
in a broad circuit around it. When
all things were completed, the build-
ing was placed in charge of " Uncle "
Joe Bunker, a soldier of the Revolu-
tion, as sexton. He took great pride

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

in his office, which, as there was no
means of heating the house for more
than thirty years, was almost a sine-
cure, its duties consisting of bearing
a heavy key, with which he unlocked
one outside door on Sunday morn-
ing, and entering, unbarred the
other two, reversing the process
after the afternoon service. All
town-meetings were held here for
twenty-four j^ears after it was built ;
for the eight years following, they
were held here one half the time, and
for the next nineteen years, until the
town hall was built, in 1847, one
third of the time. Political meetings
were never held here.

The gift of Eli Bunker embraced
a parade ground for the military, as
well as a site and accommodation for
the church. Hence the name. Barn-
stead Parade. As soon as the ground
was prepared, inspections and drills
were held here in May and in Sep-
tember, b}^ one or more companies,
so long as the old military system of
New Hampshire existed, which re-
quired service of all competent males
between the ages of eighteen and
forty-five years. In 1850 and also iti
1 85 1, the officers of one of the three
military divisions of New Hampshire
were drilled here some days, under
the command of Col. Thomas J.
Whipple. After the War of 181 2,
a battalion of four companies from
the Tenth regiment mustered here
sometimes. The following is a frac-
tion of the description given of one
of their parades by a resident lady :

" In the halcyon days of the olden time,

When onr jolly pfrandfathcrs were in their

prime,
When heroic deeds were so valiantly done.
And when bloodless battles were fought and

won,

There were few gayer scenes, I have often
heard said,

Than those at the trainings at Barnstead Pa-
rade.

" They came from all quarters, — the young and

the old,
The eager-ej-ed boy and the officer bold.
And the women and girls in their Sunday

trim,
In those funny old bonnets, that looked so

prim.

********
When the red-coated troop dashed over the

green,
In the brightest of colors that ever were seen,

While music was ringing from bugle and

horn,
Oh, it was like magic to those looking on !

" The artillery in blue coats, faced with red,

With heavy-plumed, crescent-shaped caps on
each head.

Brought their old six-pounder, that thun-
dered so loud.

Spreading terror and dread through the star-
tled crowd.

How the echoes resounded, still higher and
higher,

lyike a hostile army returning their fire !

" With what stately step the light infantry
came'!

The garments they wore are still living in
fame, —

The white pants and blue coats, the bell but-
tons and all.

And those stiff, leather caps that were terri-
bly tall,

And the long, snowy plumes, that were tipped
with red.

And nodded and halted in time with their
tread.

" There, too, were the flood-wood — the slam-
bang corps —
That numbered a hundred, and often times

more.
Some were tall, some were short, some crook-
ed, some straight.
Some were prompt to keep step, and some

halting in gait, —
ITn-uniformed men with no taste for war,
They came to the training, obeying the law.
And each man brought, as the law did require,
His two spare flints and a brush and ]:)riming-
wire."

In 1838, managers of the fair, or
cattle show, as it was called, of un-
divided Strafford county, composed

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS. 19

of the present territory of Strafford denomination. Elder Randall was a
county, also of Belknap and Carrol natural leader and became a success-
counties, absurdly located their an- ful advocate of these new doctrines,
nual fair in this place, then a ver}' Following a j^owerful revival under
small hamlet. The people got along Randall and Lock in 1781 at North
very well by the aid of the church, Strafford, a church was formed there
where the exhibits of the ladies were having seventy members. North
displayed, and the orator spoke. Strafford and Barnstead join each
One resident citizen claimed the other evenl}-. The revival of 1781
prize for raising the most corn on may have affected the inhabitants of
an acre of land, one hundred and Barnstead equally with those of
fortj'-seven bushels, fourteen quarts, Strafford, though the church was
and half a pint. The committee located in the latter. From .some
questioned it. But after viewing knowledge of them both for forty
the field with the stalks, minus the 3'ears, I know they have mingled with
husk, silk, and ears, standing upon brotherly love, in religious worship
it, and the stored large ears of on both sides of the line. May not
corn, and hearing a statement of the influence which went forth from
the method of its cultivation, they this revival, when constanth' nour-
promptly awarded the prize to the ished b}^ monthly and quarter!)' and
claimant. The method of cultivat- 5'early meetings, and the earnest
ing corn then was far inferior to preaching of Randall and his associ-
modern methods. ates and followers, have caused the
The town having been destitute of favor with which the people of
a settled minister for thirty-six years Barnstead so generally received the
from its settlement, who in this period doctrines and worship of the Free-
led in worship and taught divine will Baptists ? The influence of the
truth? Who comforted the sick, con- new system of faith gradually in-
soled the mourner and united the creased in Barnstead. David Knowl-
5^oung man and maiden in wedlock ? ton, of Pittsfield, embraced it and
These questions are difficult to an- was ordained in 1795. His two sons
svver, from lack of records and defi- and Samuel B. Dj-er were converted
nite tradition before 1780, when Elder under his preaching and became min-
Benjamin Randall organized a church isters. David Knowlton, Jr., the
of seven members on June 30, at New eldest son, after holding meetings in
Durham, and the free Eoudon and the southeast part of Barnstead for
Canterbury church was ministered two 5'ears, removed there with his
to by Elder Edward J. Eock, from wife, and was ordained November 23,
whom the Baptists had withdrawn 1803, Elder Randall being present
fellowship in February, and the free and taking part in the service. The
Crown Point church, of Strafford, ceremony probably took place in the
was ministered to by Tosier Eord. newly erected, but unfinished build-
These three churches took a bold ing, which stood opposite the residence
stand for a free gospel and an un- of Joseph Tasker, since known as the
limited atonement, thus becoming residence of John Murphy, and called
the nucleus of the Freewill Baptist the Union meeting-house. Believ-

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

ing in a free gospel, he signed papers
before his ordination, relinquishing
all rights that might belong to him
as the first settled minister of the
town. Mr. Knowlton was very much
beloved. He gradually failed in
health and, returning to his father's
home in Pittsfield, died there of con-
sumption, March ii, 1808. A proces-

Mrs. Temperance Jewett.
Photograplicd on her lootli /'irthifny.

sion of teams, with sleighs, just half
a mile long, went to his funeral from
Barnstead and the adjoining towns.
Elder Randall, who died the same
year, preached his funeral sermon.

Nathaniel Wilson, of Barnstead,
was ordained as a Freewill Baptist
preacher in 1805. He was a vigor-
ous farmer living on the Province
Road, near Gilmanton line, where
Captain Sinclair previously resided.
Mr. Wilson came from (iilmanton.

Mrs. Ivydia (Tibbets) Perkins told me
that he invited the people to come to
meeting at his home on Sunday for
seven years, and on alternate vSun-
days for the following seven j^ears.
Services were held during warm
weather in the floor of his barn,
which was one of the longest in
town, where ample seats were pro-
vided, which were often full. In
winter, services were held in his
house. Mrs. Perkins was a Chris-
tian woman, and living near attended
these meetings.

Many people from the north part
of Barnstead worshiped with the
Freev^ill Baptist church at Gilman-
ton Iron Works, which was organ-
ized in 1794.

It is believed that there had been
more or less preaching by Freewill
Baptist ministers for twenty years ;
and that two or three attempts had
been made by the town to settle a
Congregational minister, which had
failed b}' disagreement, .when Enos
George, born in South Hampton, a
Methodist local preacher, came to
town in 1803, June 12, to supply the
pulpit and teach school at the Pa-
rade. He said in his old age that
while riding on Province Road along
the highland and looking down on
the Parade for the first time, it looked
pleasant to him and had always looked
pleasant. He remained here till his
death, October 29, 1859.

In November of that year, a
committee of the town gave him a
call to settle as a Congregational-
ist. But he said, "there being no
church, I thought it advisable to
wait for some indication from heaven
that should encourage me." Here-
turned to Hampstead and treated his
Methodist brethren with a Christian

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

spirit. They released him, but, see-
ing promising ability in him, asked
him to remain with them and "be-
come a good and great man." The
paper which he presented to the
Methodists is still in existence.
With the assistance of Rev. Isaac
Smith, of Gilmanton, a learned and
wise man who evidently admired Mr.
George, a church of eight members
was formed, July 23, 1804.

The invitation given by the town
committee to Mr. George was re-
newed by the church and answered
in the affirmative. Mr. George was
ordained September 26, 1804, at the
Parade meeting-house. A settle-
ment and salary were agreed upon.
He was to preach in two meeting-
houses and some other places that
should be agreed to by the town.
Mr. George reserved three Sabbaths
in the year as vacation. He com-
menced preaching at the Parade, or
West meeting-house, three Sabbaths
in a month, and the fourth, and also
the fifth Sabbath (when it happened),
at the North school-house.

After the death of Elder David
Knowlton, difficulties arose, and the
Freewill Baptist people left the Union
meeting-house, and it was not again
used as a church till it was moved to
Winkley Corner and finished inside.
The first service in its new location
was conducted by Mr. George, Octo-
ber 17, 1 8 19. It was larger than the
Parade church, similarl}' constructed,
but without porches, and coarsely fin-
ished. It was never heated except
at town meeting in March, when the
smoke-pipe of the 'stove was passed
out through a window. Mr. George
added this to his places of preaching,
calling it the Lower or East meeting-
house.

The Congregational people of
North Barnstead built a neat church,
which was dedicated October 31,
1827. Mr. George thereafter held in
this church all services for the north
part of the town.

Elder David Garland, of Barn-
stead, was ordained in 1830 as a
Freewill Baptist evangelist, and be-
came a very earnest and active
worker, especially in revivals. He
associated wath himself Deacon
Henry Eangley, Samuel N. Langley,
Oliver Dennett, and John K. Kaime,
and built the church at Barnstead
Centre, thinking that the pews could
be readil}^ sold and a central and
strong Freewill Baptist church and
society would be established. The
proprietors were greatly disappointed
in the sale of the pews, and all lost
money. The chief burden rested on
Elder Garland, from which he was
relieved by a generous son, a Boston
merchant. The church was dedi-
cated, September 12, 1839. Daniel
P. Cilley, Freewill Baptist, preached.
Rev. Mr. George was present. He
preached in this church on the follow-
ing Sunda)^ September 15, also on
the 22d, at four o'clock p. m.

The last service in the East meet-
ing-house occurred October 20, 1839.
At the next designated time for a
meeting there, December 15, no meet-
ing was held. It was estimated that
two feet of snow fell in a severe north-
east storm at that time. The east
church at Winkley Corner was aban-
doned after this, having been used in
an irregular waj^ just twenty years
and three days. The Congregation-
alists, having arranged with Elder
David Garland for the use of the
Centre church a part of the time,
bought pews in it and commenced to

BARNSTEAD—.AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

worship there in April, 1840. From
this time, the Congregational meet-
ing was held at the Parade church,
the Centre church, and the North
church successiveh' till 1S66.

The earl}' Freewill Baptists in
Barnstead held public worship in
private dwellings, in barns, and in
groves, choice of these being deter-
mined b)' numbers and by the
weather. Much use was made by
them, with general consent, of school-
houses, which were first built after
1792. Their first church was organ-
ized in 1803. Their first meeting-
house was built in Clarktown, be-
tween the 5'ears 1816 and 1820, and
was used exclusivel)' by Freewill
Baptists in peace and unity for more
than thirty years. A part of this
church accepted the prediction of
William Miller, that the second
appearing of Christ would occur in
1843, and about 1854, having em-
braced other doctrines which the
Freewill Baptists could not accept,
left this house and worshiped in
another place. Subsequentl}' an
arrangement was made so that each
part of the church could occup}^ the
house in just proportions of time.
The Freewill people decreased rapid-
ly. The Adventists increased and
acquired full possession of the meet-
ing-house, which they held more
than fifteen years.

At a public meeting in this house,
about six years ago, a statement of
religious belief, or a misunderstand-
ing of a statement of religious be-
lief, caused excitement and division
among this people. At a subsequent
meeting, one of the leaders of one
party announced, in substance, that
they should retire from the church.
They did retire, and left the other

party in legal possession. This sec-
ond party, having become well in-
formed as to the doctrines and polity
of the Congregationalists, were duly
organized as a Congregational church.
They formed a .society, which was in-
corporated. Both society and church,
if I am rightly informed, are con-
ducted very carefully, legally, eccle-
siasticall}- and spiritually, as the
Congregational societ}^ and church of
South Barnstead.

A building standing on the shore
of Half Moon pond, built, and offered
to the town, for a school-house, but
not accepted — and now a ruin — was
used as a place of worship between
thirty and forty 3'ears by Adventists.

The Methodists tried to get a foot-
hold in this town, aided by an ener-
getic business citizen, who had been
a member of their church before com-
ing here. After the great revival in
1838, Presiding Elder Cass and El-
ders Brewster and Hinds came to the
Parade and held a two days' meet-
ing. Elders of the denomination
continued to preach here occasion-
ally till 1843. No prospect of per-
manent results appearing, efforts in
this direction ceased. Some of these
preachers did much good.

In 1866, after Congregational wor-
ship had been held in Barnstead at
two or three places for nearly seventy
3'ears, and was still held at the Pa-
rade, at the Centre, two miles from
the Parade, and at the North, five
miles from the Centre and seven from
the Parade, — about one third of the
Sabbaths at each place, and no meet-
ing, it is believed, having ever been
held one year in one place, — the peo-
ple at the Parade determined to have
a regular meeting at that place. They
organized and had duly incorporated

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

Pitts field

Location of Places of Worship in Barnstead : I — Parade Meeting-House. 2 — North School-House. 3 — Union Meeting-
House. 4 — North Church. 5 — Centre Church. 6 — South Barnstead Church. 7 — Elder Wilson's House. 8 — Ad-
ventists' Red School-House. 9 — Old Log Church.

a society, and raised more money for
the support of a minister than the
whole society were previously pay-
ing.

The old meeting - hotise was re-
paired, and a bell-tower and bell
were added. The whole expense of
this enterprise was paid by contribu-
tions from people in the immediate
vicinity of the Parade and former res-
idents of the same territory. George
Peabody, the London banker and
philanthropist, who was visiting his
aunt, widow of Dr. Jewett, contrib-

uted $450 in her name. A church
was organized here, July 9, 1867, by
a council, whose doings may be found
in the records of the chtirch. Since
these events, there have been regidar
weekly services here for thirt}^ years,
excepting vacations and accidental
interrtiptions. The titles of the new
organizations are, "The Congrega-
tional Church at Barnstead Parade "
and the " Congregational Society at
Barnstead Parade."

Rev. William O. Carr, having
served the whole town for six years,

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS. 25

continued his labors here for twent}'- from afar, because they made good
four years and four months, nearly flour. The}' were very industrious
thirty years in all, and then quietly and reliable citizens and helped to
and peacefully retired, leaving a uphold the church. One of the fifth
sorrowful people. Mr. Carr was generation, a successful pioneer and
born in Derry. His paternal ances- resident of Minnesota for nearly forty-
tors were of the Scotch-Irish colony two years, comes to us to enjoy this
which settled that town. By his celebration to-day.
mother, he is a lineal descendant from As Mr, George began his career of
Elder William Brewster, the scholar, pastor, so he continued through life,
printer, and first minister of the Pil- While he was definite, interesting,
grims. Mr. Carr fitted for college at and often eloquent, as a speaker, he
Derry academy, and was graduated was a patient and respectful listener
from Amherst in 1857, and from An- to the words of others. While he
dover Seminary in i860. was dignified in all his acts, he was

How came this church building to sympathetic, kind, and easily ap-
be located at Barnstead Parade, on proached. Never an enthusiast, he
one side of the town, being about was never despondent. While addi-
one mile from Pittsfield line ? Be- tions to his church were generally
cause Jonathan Bunker, of Durham, gradual, there were at times wonder-
a miller, mechanic, and valuable pio- ful outpourings of the Holy Spirit
neer, had a lot of land here which, upon the people, as in the j^ears 1834
bounded by the Province Road, lay and 1838, when large additions were
on both sides of Suncook river, where made to the church, and he admin-
he had an excellent fall. He came istered the holy sacrament in the
here in 1769, and built a home on a small community here to "toward
part of his land now owned by Dea- 200 people."

con Hiram Rand, of the fifth genera- When, in 1843, a wild wave of ex-
tion from him. He also built a saw- citement passed over Barnstead, occa-
mill and a grist-mill, and had a shop sioned by the predictions of William
with a trip-hammer, where he manu- Miller, a twelve days' meeting was
factured such iron and steel imple- called for by certain preachers, at
ments as new settlements required. Barnstead Centre, which was pro-
He was succeeded by his son Eli, tracted to seventeen days. There was
who gave the site for the church and preaching at the church during the
parade ground. day and speakers were sent out even-

Dr. Jeremiah Jewett came here ings to address the people at school-

from Rowley, Mass., in 1792, and houses about town, and committees

practised medicine for forty-four were appointed to collect food in the

3'ears, about thirty-two years without various school districts for the mul-

a competitor in the whole town. He titude, and the village hotel, which

boarded with the* Bunkers at first, was of no mean dimensions, was

and, being of Congregational stock, freely thrown open by the landlord

was first 'to move for the erection of for the u.se of the crowd, and the

this church. The Bunkers were crops of some farmers were left

good millers and brought custom standing ungathered in the fields,

BARNSTEAD—AN HISTORICAL ADDRESS.

because they believed the Lord was
soon to come, and Mr. George was
severely criticised for not sympathiz-
ing with these movements ; he was
serene, although doubtless deeply
grieved to see some of his best
church members drawn into such
commotion. He expressed his opin-
ion firmly, but courteously, entered
into no controversies, discharged his
duties as pastor regularly, though to
small audiences, and so demeaned
himself as to retain the respect and
confidence of the community, after
the unusual religious agitation had
become a thing of the past.

When, in 1S04, Rev. Enos George
commenced his labors as pastor of
the Congregational church in Barn-
stead, with all the members available
in town, eight in number, three of
whom were converted under his
preaching during the year before,
probabl}' two thirds of all the people
in town who had any church pref-
erence, favored the Freewill Baptist
church. To-day, there are four
church buildings in town, all occu-
pied by Congregationalists. Those
worshiping at the North church and
those worshiping at the Centre
church are within the pale of a
common society. The church mem-

bers of both places constitute the
Congregational church in Barnstead
— the primeval church. The Con-
gregational church at Barnstead Pa-
rade and the Congregational church -
of South Barnstead are independent
churches. I have no knowledge of
an}' other organized religious bodies
in town. The Advent people at
South Barnstead worship in a hall,
but have no church organization, I
am told.

The First Freewill Baptist church
in South Barnstead is nearly ex-
tinct. But two of its members re-
side in that part of the town, — a
man eighty-four years old, and his
wife, more than eighty. Its com-
munion service has been forwarded
to the president of Storer College, for
the use of freedmen, and its records
await transportation to the safe of
the Free Baptist Memorial church
at New Durham.

I can get no information of the rec-
ords of the Second Freewill Baptist
church, and tradition gives me no
help in that direction.

Congregationalism in Barnstead,
which began in weakness, has been
sustained for nearly a century by
quiet, inoffensive, but persistent
effort.

A LETTER.

lyy Frank IVcst Rollins.

'V Dear Jack : It is with
a feeling of sadness I
take up my pen to write
to 3-ou to-day, for it is a
year ago to-day w^e lost
our mother. The sky is overcast,
the children are gathered in quiet
groups in the door-ways and win-
dows, the pigeons gaze disconso-
lately from under the eaves, a heavy
depression weighs over the earth, or
so it seems to me.

This is the first time I have ever
been away from home without feel-
ing that Mother was there at the
hearthstone, following my every step
with her watchful, loving eye, and
offering nightly a prayer for her dis-
tant son. This is the first time I
have ever been afar and failed to find
her tender, all-gathering, thoughtful
letters at every halting place. This
is the first time I have ever wan-
dered from my native state and have
not put a letter off to her at every set
of sun.

During all these days of my ab-
sence I have felt a want, a void, a
something missing, a chord broken.
I have felt that the magnet which
drew me homeward had vanished,
that, somehow, home itself had gone.
In all my travels heretofore I have
seen things doubly ; through ni}-
own eyes and through Mother's.
Whatever pleased or interested me,
I looked .at from my point of view
and then from hers, and I never
closed my eyes without writing her
about it, thus enjoying it twice for

our pleasure was always Mother's.
But now, all this is ended. Do not
think, my boy, I do not enjoy writ-
ing to you. You know I do. It is
not that, but it is the longing, the
craving, to tell Mother about it, just
as we did when children, to go to her
with all our pleasures and griefs, just
as we always have up to a year ago
to-day. You remember the old verse :

"Backward, turn backward, O time, in thy
flight,
Make me a child again, just for to-night."

To hear once more her dear voice, to
see her loving face !

Do you remember. Jack (of course
you do), our nursery just out of
Mother's room in the old house, and
the great four-post bed j^ou and I
used to sleep in together? There
was the high window right over it,
just within tip-toe reach, against
which the branches of the Graven-
stein tree used to rattle (ghostly fin-
gers to us). Then there was the
wall cupboard, right beside the bed,
where we kept our treasures — how
handy it was Sunday mornings,
when we had to stay in bed till 8 : 30
so that Father might sleep ! And can
3-011 remember lying there and hear-
ing Father's deep, muffled voice and
Mother's softer tones in earnest con-
versation in the next room ? How I
used to wonder what they were say-
ing!

And how good those scorching
hot pillows used to be on cold winter
nights, when the wind was rattling
the old house,

through

seennng

A LETTER.

about to drive the windows in, and
the frost was finger deep on the
panes ! You remember she always
had a row of them on such nights
around the old air-tight stove in her
room, and, as the children were one
b}' one packed off to bed, she would
seize one of the pillows, doubling it
up to retain the heat, and hurry to
place it under the shivering little
one. At the foot of the bed under
the blankets there was always a free-
stone nice and warm, and in a few
moments you were as cozy as a bird
in its nest. Mother would tuck you
in with little loving exclamations and
pats, and finally, after your prayers
were said, a good-night kiss, and then
sweet, childlike slumber. Do you
not see that picture. Jack ? Does it
not come back to you? Can't you
see Mother bending over you ?

I remember I always went to sleep
with your hand in mine, and if I lost
it in the night I could not go to sleep
again till I had found it.

What was that prayer Mother used
to read every night to herself just be-
fore she turned out the gas ? Not
the one we said, but the one she read
for herself after we were safely in
bed ? Somehow, I always connect
her with that prayer. It begins, —
" Defend us, O Lord, in all our do-
ings — ," I can't remember the rest,
but it always made a great impres-
sion on me. What a perfect, simple,
undoubting faith she had !

I remember one time when Mother
was very sick. I lay in bed in the
darkness in the next room, and I
prayed with all the strength and pur-
pose of my soul for her recovery, and
I thought, with the old idea of sacri-
fice in my mind, what I would give
to make her well again. First an

arm, or a leg, or both arms, or an
eye, and finally, in a paroxysm of
grief, my life itself. That was love,
pure, unselfish, worshiping, — the
love of the child for its mother. It '
is good to feel, no matter how far
you have drifted, that there was a
time when you were pure, clean, un-
selfish, self- forgetting, — a child.

In my maturer years, I have some-
times thought that, in the kindness
of her heart. Mother was too good,
too lenient with us children. Can
3'ou remember her refusing you any-
thing? And the things we used to
do in that old house, the romps, the
pranks we played !

The kitchen was the scene of manj-
of our exploits, and a famous kitchen
it was. You remember it, Jack. Fully
thirty-five feet long by twenty-five feet
wide, the east side all of brick, and
the outline of the enormous fireplace
of other days still plainly visible,
flanked on one side by the brick oven,
still used for baking bread and pies,
and on the other by the capacious
wash-boiler. In the opposite corner
was the long-handled wooden pump,
drawing the water from the well in
the yard. The low ceiling was crossed
by big oaken rafters, and the small
rectangular window-panes allowed a
distorted glimpse of Grandmother's
old-fashioned garden, with a row of
peach trees at the back.

It was in this kitchen I had my
celebrated " Menagerie, Museum, and
Megatherion Minstrels" (before you
were born, Jack). We built a stage
right across one end of the kitchen,
spiking the boards to the floor, com-
pletely closing all entrance to the
dining-room, so that for two days all
communication was by going out of
doors and around to the side porch.

A LETTER.

The curtain and wings were made
from mother's shawls and the parlor
portieres, and mother w^as right in
the thick of it, aiding and abetting,
while cook held v:p her hands in
holy horror, and tried in vain to go
on with her work.

And there was the time of the big
snow, when we packed it up against
the L till it formed a regular tobog-
gan slide. Then we and all the
neighbors' children tramped through
the house, right up the front stairs,
through the best chamber, with our
sleds and snow^j^ boots, got out the
north chamber window, and slid down
the roof. What a time that was !

And May day, 1876! Shall I ever
forget it ! After making night hid-
eous with horns, guns, drums, rat-
tles, and devil's fiddles, I gathered
about fifty of all the young ragamuf-
fins of the town, and, somewhere in
the small hours of the morning, when
sleep is sweetest, I quietly led this
horde of tatterdemalions through the
side door of our house. At a given
signal, thumpity-thump, tootity-toot,
bangity-bang went the whole gazoo
up the front stairs, single file, by the
foot of the bed where Mother and
Father, at first furious, but soon
laughing uproariously, were, and then
down the back stairs, and out into
the darkness to hatch other mischief.

What good times mother used to
plan for us, little parties, picnics,
suppers ; never too tired to put us
up a lunch ; never too ill to make us
a uniform for base-ball or soldiers, a
mother not only to her own large
family and , several orphan relatives,
but to all the motherless children of
the neighborhood. Her heart was
big enough for all. You remember
how all the boys used to love her.

and how they used to wish they had
such a mother, and did you notice
at her funeral how many of those
boys, now bearded men, were pres-
ent? They had not forgotten the
tender w'ords and kindly hand pres-
sures of 3ears gone by.

You were her youngest. Jack, her
baby; her last born, and she loved
you with that fondness mothers lav-
ish on their tenderest and frailest. I
used to be a little jealous of you some-
times. But not for long, for I knew
she loved us all alike, and frequently,
when she felt her "sands of life"
were ebbing, she used to talk with
me of you, and tell me what I must
do for you when she was no longer
here to watch over j^ou. You see
how her love looked into the future,
how she planned for the good and
welfare of her loved ones, even be-
yond the grave. It is a sweet thought
for you, especially, and for me, and I
frequently find myself thinking, would
Mother have me do this so?

Mother — what a sweet word it is !
How it fills the mouth and the heart !
How it expresses all love, and all de-
votion, and all self-sacrifice. Mother
— home — the two are one and insepa-
rable; and here am I, far, far from
both, many and many a dreary mile,
with wastes of rolling, wind-swept
ocean between. The sun is setting
drearily behind the hills ; with you
it is just rising, and I take hope and
comfort. When it is setting on half
the world, it is rising beneficently on
the other half: it sets, but \i always
does rise, it always shines behind the
clouds, "there is ;/7 more night than
day"; so good night, my boy, and
"pleasant dreams," and "God guard
thee," as Mother used to say.

Your loving brother, Morris.

J'roiii the pai7itiiig hy J . Warren 'riiyng.

The Old Mill,

THE OLD MILL.

TO J. W. T.
By Louis Albert Lamb.

Sang Nature to the Poet's heart a lay
Of Love and Truth and lovely Harmony :
Sang she, in sooth, the perfect symphony
Of grander Life and ever-waxing Day.

But on his lyre his fingers could not play,
And with the song words failed of sympathy ; —
Or rather, words were fraught with apathj-
Which stole the beauty of the .strain away ;

Seized he his pencil, and before the shrine
He limned the Harmony his soul had seen —
Bewitching fair — divinely pure — serene :
Translated chords too subtle for the pen
And made what I had lost of Nature, mine ;
Passed down the eternal Truth from God to men !

A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

By Maurice Baldwin.

ATURE unadorned is of-
ten beautiful ; adorned
by art, she is always so.
We too seldom remem-'
ber our great debt to
her noble and beautiful influences, —
forces per se that have put the elab-
orate machinery of progress into mo-
tion, and to which men are ever turn-
ing for renewed strength and energ}-.
It was a dream of discovery that
caused Columbus to set sail toward
the sunset mysteries of the West ; it
was a dream of gold that lured thou-
sands across the continent to the El
Dorado of California, and it was dur-

ing these years of gold search that
among the hills and lakes of New
Hampshire the man was born whose
pencil was first to make known the
dream of beauty enshrined amid the
piney fastnesses of the White Moun-
tains.

Creation is a great art gallery, and
it is full of masterpieces. Perhaps in
few parts of the world has the Great
Artist been so lavish with the touch
of beauty, or so varied in its exhibi-
tion, as in that region limited by the
horizon as seen from Lake Winnipe-
saukee. Within this area are gath-
ered half a dozen lakes unsurpassed

A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

in beauty by any lakes in the world, water that ever graced a landscape,

Nestling amid the mountains of Sand- endowed with a sensitive and poetic

wich range, they lie like a chain of temperament, that could not but be

jewels upon the breast of Mother impressed by the surpassing beauties

Earth, reflecting in their sympathetic of his environment, J. Warren Thyng

depths every mood of the changeful was the natural instrument of that

skies that bend above them. Pine-
covered lands stretch away from them
in a crescendo of elevations till they
reach the mountain heights, — dream-
ing giants, born
of Nature's
mighty travail,
that guard the
magic region in
silence and eter-
nal calm.

From The Weirs
the beholder
looks upon a ma-
jestic panorama
of opalescent
water, indented
shores, islands,
and a wall of rug-
ged mountains.
Moosilauke, Pros-
pect, the Hay-
stacks, Red hill,
Washington, Tri-
pyramid, Passa-
conaway, White-
face, P a u g u s,
Chocorua, Ossipee, and nameless foot-

J. Warren Thyng.

power which finds a man for every
necessity, and which gave to the
Franco-Prussian soldiery, Detaille ;
to French art, Meissonier; to the

F'rench peasant-
ry. Millet; and
to the lake coun-
try of New
Hampshire, its
most notable art-
ist. In the rec-
ords of the New
England Histor-
ical and Genea-
logical societ}',
and in Hon.
Charles H. Bell's
history of Exe-
ter, the family
from which Mr.
Thyng is de-
scended is men-
tioned as among
the first to settle
in the state. Eake
Village contained
but four houses
g's paternal grand-

when Mr. Thyn

hills, detain the vision in this grand father located in that region and be-
prospect. In the perspective of the came one of the prominent citizens of
lake one can note the position of that place. Mr. Thyng's childhood

prominent islands — the Stonedam,
Mark, Governor's, Long Island, and
others. Scotland or Switzerland
could hardly possess a region where
the loveliness of nature is so ex-
quisitely or so variously exhibited.

Born at Lake Village, living dur-
ing his years of youth on the shores
of the most beautiful expanse of

passed without event, but early in his
boyhood he demonstrated that for him
there was to be a different career from
that laid out for most of the young
men who were his associates in the
little country town of his nativity.

Unconscious of the power within
him, he nevertheless accomplished
enough with pencil and brush to

A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

irr

Lake Winnipesaukee, from The Weirs.

attract the attention of artists whom
he chanced to meet, and later, with
the resolution to become an artist,
no matter what difficulties must be
surmounted, he went to Boston,
where his resolute spirit, his impas-
sioned sincerity of motive, and his
evident talent, won for him the
friendship and instruction of the late
George L. Brown, one of the first
of American landscape painters, and
known in Europe as the "American
Claude." This excellent tutelage,
supplemented by the study of
classical art in the National
Academy of New York, and
later in the Massachusetts State
Normal Art school, gave him
that technical training and ex-
perience without which the high-
est genius would be crippled.

Du Maurier has given in " Tril-
by " an excellent picture of art-
student life in Paris, but no
writer has as yet more than
hinted at the less romantic, but
not less interesting, life led b}^
the art student in New York
or Boston. Iii these cities Mr.
Thyng pursued his studies un-
interruptedly for a number of
years. In New York he was
a welcome frequenter of the

studios of such artists as F. E.
Church, George Innis, and William
Hart, and the lack of all mannerism
in his own brush work is no doubt
the result of this catholicity of train-
ing.

The most interesting chapters of
Mr. Thyng's life must lie in these
days of striving, of high purpose,
of conflict, of toil, until success at
last seemed in his grasp, and, in
1872, the directorship of the State
Art school, at Salem, Mass., was

A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

that place, — a school which
the tireless energy and ver-
satile power of the principal

placed foremost among
the art institutions of
the country by labors
covering a period of
eight years. He was
also supervisor of
drawing in the public
schools during six of
these years.

In the years passed

in Salem and Akron,

Mr. Thyng spent a

number of months

v;, each year among the

'~ lakes and mountains

of his native state,
his. This position he held with and did what no artist had done
lasting credit for eleven years, as before and few have done since —
well as supervising the art work of gave to the world, by pen and brush,
the public schools of that city, and revelations of the charm and beauty
many artists who have since attained of the lake country of New Hamp-
success and fame owe much to the shire. Every summer found his easel
conscientious training given by Mr. pitched upon the hillsides and shores
Thyng in these capacities. In 1883 about the lakes, and the results of
he went to Akron, Ohio, where he his labor brought appreciation of the
founded the Akron School of Design, wonderful value of Eake Winnipe-
incorporated by a board of diectors saukee as a scenic attraction to the
composed of the leading citizens of outside world. The railroad officials.

^#>*j*..:f;^^

'Mf-^

i^L

A NEJV HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

recognizing the splendid opportunity
before them for making the lake
country of New Hampshire an im-
portant summer resort, rapidly fol-
lowed up the suggestions of the art-
ist.

Meanwhile, Mr. Thyng's love for
the beauty of the lakes was finding
expression in his works. He wrote
a book, which ran through a large
edition, upon Lake Winnipesaukee,
its history and traditions. By news-
paper articles, by lectures, and the
more effective and persuasive beauty
of his pictures, he gradually drew the
attention of people in all parts of the
country to the wonderful attractions
and picturesque beauty of his beloved
state. It seemed during these )''ears
that he had taken upon himself a
thankless task, but, actuated by a
pure and unselfish love for his chos-
en field of effort, he worked on, and
later the rewards which come to all

true and unselfish strivings were his
in abundance.

The Harpers employed him as
special artist ; his paintings of lake
scenery found eager purchasers; his
drawings were sought after b}' pub-
lishers for reproduction, and the art-
ist had the satisfaction of knowing
that through his instrumentality
thousands yearly visited the lakes
to find health and pleasure along
their pine-bordered shores.

Whittier wrote to him of his en-
graving, "Lrake Winnipesaukee from
The Weirs," " Thy beautiful picture
is the best I have ever seen of our
lake ' ' ; and for many years the artist
enjoj'ed the friendship of the poet
thus happily won.

Numerous changes w^ere made by
Mr. Thyng in the names of certain
lakes and mountains in the vicinit)^
of Winnipesaukee, changes which
have since received official recogni-

Asquam LaKe.

A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

tion in the maps and public doc-
uments pertaining to the region.
Long Bay, lying between L,ake Vil-
lage and The Weirs, was given his-
torical significance by being renamed
Lake Paugus, after the Indian chief
who once lived in its vicinity ; Round
Bay, near Laconia, was called Lake
Opechee, the Indian name for the
robins, which flock to its shores
early in the spring. Lake Winona,
between Meredith and Ashland, also
owes its pretty name to Mr. Thyng.
These changes were the result of
a most commendable sentiment, and

were due to the artist's poetic appre-
ciation of the beauty of the sonorous
old Indian names, fast passing from
memory in a country too thoughtless
of the beauty of ancient Indian tra-
ditions and history.

Perhaps the leading characteristic
of Mr. Thyng' s pictorial work is the
idyllic, the pastoral. His pictures
are full of the impressive beauty of
the mountains ; they breathe forth
the charm of meadow lands and pine
woods, when sky and earth and
water seem linked in tender and joy-
ful harmony, when

" Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays :
Whether we look, or whether we listen
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ;

" Every clod feels a stir of might,
An instinct within it that reaches and

towers,
And, groping blindly above it for light,
Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers."

His paintings and sketches

stir in one recollections of long

summer days spent near blue

waters, of afternoons dreamed

away in a boat amid lilies and

beneath the over-hanging

branches of water oaks and

cedars, of moonlit evenings,

calm and sweet

with suggestions of

healthful weariness

and the promise of

childlike slumber.

H i s illtistrations
accompanying this
article, indicate a
wide range of
achievement, and
that, too, within the
limits of Nature's
quieter moods.
It is a pleasure

A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

!f.^y- .WMJ4

Valley of the Pemigewassett in Winter.

and a privilege to look over Air.
Thyng's collection of portfolios and
sketches. They are full of sugges-
tions dear to every lover of nature.
There are pictures which call to
memory rambles through the flower-
dotted grass of June, the air full of
fragrance, vibrant with the soft
adagio of the winds among odor-
ous pines, or the babbling lullaby
of mountain brooks ; pictures of
shaded streams, dim with the green
twilight of overhanging trees, where
the speckled trout lurk beneath the
cover of the rocks ; pictures of
ragged mountain sides, where not .so
long ago bears might have made
their home ; pictures of the lake at
all times of the day, some with soft,
blurred shadows made by the level
light of dawn, some with the glare
of noonday in them, and others
sweet with the illusory charm of twi-
light. There are pictures of farm-
hou.ses nestling among great ma-

ples, of country roadways, of wood-
land paths, daint}' bits of mountain
and lake scenery, drawn with a vital
touch and extraordinar)^ facilit}' of
expressing with a few touches the
boundless variety and beauty of na-
ture.

"The Old Mill " is one of the most
beautiful of Mr. Thyng's paintings ;
in subject and treatment it appeals to
the highest sense of the beautiful,
and challenges a most critical appre-
ciation of the methods by which the
effects are produced.

Mosses cover the Old Mill,
And its broken wheel is still ;
On the stream's untroubled breast
Spotless lilies rear their crest,
But the willows whisper yet
Things these three cannot forget.

Days when all the world was j-oung,
Days when happy children sung
Underneath the willows songs
With no burden of life's wrongs ;
Days when work, with merry sound,
Filled the sun's unclouded round.

A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

stream and Mill are dreaming o'er

All the busy days of yore,

When, with many a creak and strain,

The J' once ground the farmer's grain,

And a half-sad beauty clings

To the worn-out, useless things.

O sweet Lustre of Decay, —
Bloom of things that pass away !
Thou dost lend a tender grace
To the Past's time-softened face ;
Sweet and dim the old days seem.
Like our memories of a dream.

scene. The effect upon the beholder
is one of sadness, the gentle melan-
choly that conies from the contem-
plation of objects seen in the magical
glory of infinite and all -pervading
light.

In his color work, Mr. Thyng has
approached greatness. Had he been
less devoted to making artists of oth-
ers, he doubtless would have accom-

Besides admirable technical qual-
ities, the painting of "The Old Mill"
(its prototype in reality still standing
at Gilford, N. H.) possesses in an
extraordinary degree that pathetic
charm and suggestive beauty which
linger about all ruined and pictu-
resque objects. To the impression
which the fine coloring displayed in
the painting of the natural environ-
ment of the old mill makes upon the
beholder is added the entrancing sad-
ness, the reminiscent feeling invoked
by the mill itself. It requires no crit-
ical analysis of the artist's methods
to understand and appreciate the
effect and value of the picture, and
herein lie its greatest claims to merit
— a total absence of mannerism, and
effects produced by the simplest and
most natural methods.

These characteristics are equally
noticeable in other paintings by Mr.
Thyng; in " Asquam Lake" they
are apparent in a marked degree.
The picture is a masterpiece in grays.
The water is still, and suggests the
near approach of twilight, harmoniz-
ing the amber-lighted sky with the
rich grays and the stronger hues of
the shore.

The chief beauty and the triumph
of art in the picture lie in the diffu-
sion of the golden tone of declining
day throughout the particulars of the

,<'l^

• /

%>^> 'i

:™

'"" 'it

_^P^':^ ^_.

^, , -

' " *

The Peak of Chocorua.

plished more with his own brush.
As it is, his sincerity, high aspira-
tion, and delicate appreciation of the
significance and beauty of nature,
have made the brush in his hands a
slender tongue of wonderful power for
expressing the most poetic and sub-
tler truths of form and color. By in-
.stinct, and in his love of beauty for
its own sake, he is essentially an
idealist ; not the idealism represented
by that class of pictorial madness put
forth by Manet and his followers, but
the beautiful faith that believes that
from the loveliness of earth we derive

A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST.

our concepts of heaven, and, there-
fore, that any representation of spir-
itual beauty must be true in its essen-
tial details to the material facts before
us.

His own definition of the difference
between idealistic and realistic art
aptl}^ illustrates the attitude of the
two schools of painting towards the
same pictorial material.

"For instance," he says, "two
artists are strolling down a country
road on a summer day ; one of them
is a realist, the other an idealist.
Presently, they come to a cottage
nestling beneath the shadows of a
majestic oak. About the door are
clambering roses; morning-glories
screen the sunlight from the little
windows ; on the roof lichens have
softened with dull green the weather-
beaten gray of the shingles. From
the road a grassy path leads to the
door through a garden where quaint,
old-fashioned flowers are growing in
charming disorder and luxuriance,
sunflowers and hollyhocks, poppies
and marigolds, delicate sweet-peas,
and over a half-decayed tree stump
the running fire of the nasturtium
vine — flowers such as our grand-
mothers loved long ago when they
were young and could find beauty in
the old blossoms that no one cares for
nowadays.

' ' In the grassy walk a little child
is playing, and the clear sunshine
and the blue heavens seem reflected
in her golden curls and her wide
eyes, and the joy of the carolling
birds in the old' oak sounds sweetly
in her voice as she talks to herself
and laughs out the untroubled blithe-
someness of her childish heart.

"One of the artists pitches his
easel before the scene, and with

quick brush strives to place upon his
canvas something of the beauty be-
fore him — the little cottage and the
oak, and the spots of color in the old-
fashioned garden, and the child with
the sunlight in her hair, and bits of
heaven in her eyes — the idealist
paints on and on, and his picture
embodies a perfectly beautiful mem-
ory of a summer day. By and by
you wonder what has become of his
companion, the realist ; he is nowhere
to be seen ; you search for him, and
then — By George ! there he is at the
back of the cottage, and has painted
a faultlessly truthful picture of the
ash barrel and the woodshed ! ' '

In his black and white work Mr.
Thyng possesses in a signal degree
the quality of suggestiveness. True
concentration in art is not meagre-
ness in drawing ; it means to so draw
that every line will have a signifi-
cance in V ensemble, and in this re-
spect Mr. Thyng's newspaper illus-
trations are equal to those of any
artist in the country. To add or
subtract a line, or a bit of black, in
some of his drawings, would be to
weaken them, so true is his sense of
the amount of work necessar}^ to con-
vey the representation of his subject.
His illustrated articles upon the pic-
turesque in New Hampshire scenery,
over the signature of " Stranger,"
have attracted much attention.

All through these j^ears, whose
summer vacations have been filled
with pen and ink and color work by
the margins of New Hampshire's
lakes, Mr. Thyng has had long and
highly successful experience as in-
structor in drawing in public schools,
where his skill as teacher has been
strengthened by constant professional
practice. His lectures upon art edu-

A REVERIE.

cation, as a branch of public school
instruction, have been for j'ears re-
garded as authority.

At present Mr. Thyng is director
and teacher of drawing in the pub-
lic schools of Manchester.

In person, Mr. Thyng is tall, and
his reserve of manner with stran-
gers is in marked contrast with his
thoughtful attention and cordiality
with friends. He is a thirty-second
degree Mason,

To this man, who has contributed
by labors covering a quarter of a
centurj^, so materially to the appre-
ciation of the beautiful scenery of
the lake country of our state, and
to the advancement of art education
as a factor in public school instruc-
tion, has come the fine reward of
success achieved; and, with return-
ing summers, seeing the lakes of
New Hampshire advance in ever in-
creasing public admiration.

A REVERIE.

By Minadcl.

As I sit beside the burning logs
And watch their flare and glow.
There awaken a passionate longing
And dreams of long ago.

Ilsee, in the dance and sparkle

Of the flames of livid light.

My childhood's joys, when with books and toys,

The world to me seemed bright.

Thus musing, I gaze and wonder
How like to our lives the fire ;
The struggle, the chase, the plunder
To reach our heart's desire.

I see in the dying embers
Life's fitful strife for light ;
Its brightness slowl}^ fading.
The ashes ever in sight.

REPRESENTA TI VE A GRIC UL TURIS TS.

But, is this the end of the brightness,
The gleam, the fire, and glow ?
Is there nothing to hope or look for
As the end of things below ?

Yes ! far up through that darkened chimney
Shine the stars and God's own fire bright :
The firelight gleam is only a dream,
And we awake in the realms of light.

REPRESENTATIVE AGRICULTURISTS.
By H. H. Metcalf.

THOMAS O. TAYI^OR, SANBORNTON.

The old Taylor homestead in San-
bornton, whereon five generations of
the name have dwelt, — descending
from Jonathan, who came with his
father, Nathan Taylor, from Strat-
ham and settled on the place in 1773,
to Thomas, the son of Jonathan, and
to Andrew J., son of Thomas — is now
owned and occupied by Thomas Os-
good Taylor, son of Andrew J. and
and Polly (Osgood) Taylor, born
July 28, 1 85 1, who was reared and
has always had his home on the farm,
receiving his education at the district
schools and at the New Hampton In-
stitution.

Being the onl}^ son, he was asso-
ciated with his father in the man-
agement of the farm, and thus con-
tinued after his marriage, January 25,
1876, with Miss Cinda W. Heath of
Bristol, and upon his father's death,
some six years later, the property
passed into his hands. The farm,
which is located one mile from San-
bornton Square and five miles from
Tilton, on the stage road to New
Hampton, contains about 300 acres
of land, of which 50 acres are mowing

Thomas O. Taylor.

and tillage, the amount of hay cix)p
being about 50 tons. Mr. Taylor
has a silo, but in recent years has
raised Hungarian instead of ensi-
lage, as a supplementarj' feeding crop.
For many years Mr. Taylor and his
father made the raising of oxen and
steers a specialty, producing many
premium cattle of the Hereford
strain. Of late, dairying has been
the leading feature of his farm opera-
tions, the number of cows ranging

REPRESENTA TI VE A GRICUL TURIS TS.

The Taylor Homestead, Sanbornton.

from 15 to 20. He uses the De
Laval separator, being the first in
the county to adopt it, and markets
his butter at Franklin. He is an en-
thusiastic Hereford breeder, and his
fine herd took first money at the last
Tilton and Rochester fairs, though
coming in competition at the latter
with cattle from different parts of
New England. He also produces a
considerable amount of maple syrup,
being among the first to adopt im-
proved methods in its manufacture,
as he is prompt to utilize advanced
ideas in all lines of agricultural work.
Mr. Taylor was a charter member
of Harmony grange, Sanbornton,
and its first secretary, serving five
years. He has since been two years
master, and also for two years master
of Belknap County Pomona grange.
He was active in the organization of
the State Grange Fair association,
and has served as superintendent of
the forage and cattle departments,
and also as general superintendent
for several years, until January, 1896,
when he was elected treasurer of the
association. He is also a director of
the Sanbornton Town Fair associa-
tion, and has been treasurer of the

same, and a director of the town Fire
Insurance company.

Politically, he is a Democrat ; has
served his town as collector of taxes
and town treasurer several years, and
has. been the candidate of his party
for county commissioner. He is a
member of Harmony Lodge, I. O.
O. F., of Tilton, and an attendant at
the Baptist church in Sanbornton.

JOHN BAIIvEY, CI.AREMONT.

Among the steady-going, thought-
ful, and successful farmers of the
first-class agricultural town of Clare-
mont is John Bailey, a native of the
neighboring tovvJi of Unity, son of
Katon and Elizabeth Wright (Sparl-
ing) Bailey, born June 30, 1833.
Both his parents were of English de-
scent ; hence the persevering spirit
and sturdy character which he has
ever manifested. He attended the
ungraded school until sixteen years
of age, after which he pursued the
study of the higher branches in the
academies at Washington and Clare-
mont, preparatory to a course at
Dartmouth, but was forced to aban-
don the latter on account of poor
health, and entered the dry-goods

REPRESENTA TI VE A GRIC UL TURIS TS.

house of a brother at Claremoiit,
where he continued three years, but
was finally compelled to abandon this
business from the same reason that
compelled the relinquishment of the
college course.

About this time he was united in
marriage with the only daughter of
Laban Ainsworth of Claremont, and,
purchasing a large farm on the Con-
necticut river, commenced farming in
earnest. He studied methods care-
fully, and determined not to turn a
furrow without thorough fertilization
of the soil, so as to secure the largest
crops that the land was capable of
producing, realizing, as he did, that
the cost of producing 150 bushels of
corn per acre is but little more than
that of 75 bushels, while the land
would thus be left capable of pro-
ducing two and one-half tons of hay
per acre instead of a ton, or a ton and
a half.

Mr. Bailey's present farm is sit-
uated on the Connecticut, about one
mile south of Claremont Junction,
and contains 205 acres, of which 75
acres is tillage, the balance pasture
and woodland. He cuts about 100
tons of English hay, and harvests

from 1,000 to 1,500 bushels of ears of
corn, and from 500 to 700 bushels of
oats annually, most of which is con-
sumed on the farm. Since the ex-
periment station at Hanover and
Durham has been in operation, Mr,
Bailey has followed closely the ex-
periments in dairying, feeding stock,
and raising crops. He believes that
much has been reduced to science,
and that the thinking farmer can add
materially to his store of knowledge
from the bulletins issued from the
station from time to time.

The New England farmer has had
much to contend with in the last
twenty years, and Mr. Baile}' early
began to fortify himself against cheap
wool, mutton, beef, grain, etc., raised
in the West, by giving up these in-
dustries and going into dairying, sup-
plemented by the raising of swine.
He has kept from 20 to 40 cows, and
raised and fattened as many hogs
each year. His butter is sold at
wholesale at 25 cents per pound the
entire year.

Mr. Bailey had always turned a
deaf ear to all suggestions of office-
holding until the new school law
went into effect, when, being a firm

home of John Bailey, Claremont.

44 THE NEW YEAR.

believer in all its provisions, he ac- ard in the intermediate and gram-

cepted a position as a member of the mar grades raised materially, while

board of education. In that capacity the friction attendant upon the

he served two successive terms, dur- change had subsided, and the peo-.

ing which time a new school build- pie became eminently satisfied with

ing was erected and many of the the change.

old ones, in sparsely settled districts, Mr. Bailey has a son and three
abandoned, the scholars being con- daughters. The son is a farmer in
veyed to graded schools in central Claremont. Two married daughters
points. At the expiration of his reside in Antrim. The 3'Oungest,
term of office, he had the satisfac- unmarried, is a teacher. In politics,
tion of leaving the schools much he is an earnest Republican ; in re-
improved in method, and the stand- ligion, an Episcopalian.

THE NEW YEAR.

By Heiuy KallocJi Rowe.

The daj^s of winter are come once more,
The ice is thick on the meadow now.

And the snow-birds gather about the door
Or shiver near-by on a leafless bough.

The old 3^ear is dead and the new instead

On a snow bank pillows its infant head.

While its watchful herald, the evening star.
Shines clear and cold in the heavens afar.

The new-born year comes not alone,
All unattended, an uncrowned queen,

For thronging gaily about her throne
The spirits of earth and of sky are seen.

And heaven's own light on the wings of night

Joins earth in its welcome of delight.
And the winter wraps the tender form
With a snow-white mantle to keep it warm.

The days are cold but seldom drear

If hearts like the sunbeams keep them bright ;
And cheerily comes the glad new year

To fill our souls with life and light.
So may joy and peace with the years increase.
And the blessings of happy youth ne'er cease,

And though years grow old and fade and die,

There 's eternal life in the by and by.

WATER LIWES.

INSCRIBED TO MISS PALMER'S BEAUTIFl'L PAIXTIXG.

By C. Jennie Swaine.

When morn folded back the curtains

That draped a world in repose,
From the fragrant rifts in the ripples

The sweet white lilies uprose ;
And to gather the swaying beauties,

A boat glided down the stream.
And the fairest of all were chosen

To en wreathe in an artist's dream.

"Ah," said the creamy blossoms

With a quiver of delight,
" My beautiful, queenly sisters,

You may sleep in the lake to-night ;
As for us, this artist lady,

In a rare old crystalline vase.
Will keep us awake in nectar

To study our beauty and grace.

' ' Of the countless milk-white lilies

That bloom on a score of lakes,
We alone may be immortal

In the beautiful picture she makes ;
We are proud in the hand that holds us.

We are sure of its masterful skill ;
Ah, my sisters ! You '11 fade in the river

But we '11 bloom on her canvas still.

" Though we are but river lilies,

With only a summer name,
Joy, joy, we shall grow immortal

Through the artist's undying fame ;
We shall live in a beautiful picture

Which time cannot rival or mar,
For we are the artist's ideal

Whose name is in a star."

Thus said the lilies, nodding

To the lilied waves of blue ;
And the seers of the silv^er river

Bore a prophecy sweet and true ;
For we gaze on the speaking canvas

Aglow in the morning flush,
And in kissing the hand with the lilies

We kiss the hand with the brush.

POIvIvY TUCKER.

[Co>iii>iHi'd.\

By Annie J. Conwell.
CHAPTER V.

)ND AY, December 5.

I have told Mother
just how matters stand
between Joe and me,
and I am glad it is
over. Although I could see that
she was greatl}' disappointed, she
did not reproach me. vShe seemed
to think I had been hasty in my
decision, until I told her more fully
than I ever before had, how I felt
about Joe and his proposal.

"Well, child," she said, "you
must do as you think best, but I
hope Joseph was wrong about Mr.
Ivadd having an3^thing to do with
your sending the poor boy away.
You have grown up together, and
you know him to be an honest, reli-
able young man, a good son, and
kind to his neighbors. He is smart
and capable, too, and that should not
be overlooked. As for Mr. Ladd, we
have little in common, — only an ac-
quaintance, which he will be ver}^
likely to forget as soon as he leaves
Riverside. And, Polly, I think the
less you see of him, the better for
your peace of mind, for he is an un-
usually pleasing 3'oung man, and you
have met few such. His place is in
the fashionable world ; yours, in a
quiet country home. Think of these
things, my daughter, and let your
own good sense guide you in your
treatment of him when he calls."

I sat through all this, assenting to
the truth of it, but angr}^ and rebel-
lious at heart. Why should I be
debarred from what is called good
society, just for lack of nione)', or
w^hy should it be out of the ques-
tion for one in Mr. Ladd's position
to think of marriage with a girl in
mine?

I wish I could have a chance with
those girls who consider themselves
so superior to me ; I know I could
improve if I had the opportunities
for going to school and into refined
society, which they were born to. I
can't have them, and it's of no use
to fret about it. There is just one
right thing for me to do, that is, to
devote myself to ray home, and let
all thoughts of anything else go. I
will not marry as I can, and I cannot
marry as I would. Not that I think
or care so much about marrying au}--
body, only as thoughts of her future
position in life come to every girl.
But Mother has opened my eyes to
certain facts, to which my pleasure
at having agreeable company had
blinded me.

Now, Mr. lyadd may come or go as
he pleases ; it is nothing to me. I
wonder what Father will say when
he knows about Joe ! But there, I
can't help zvhat he says; I am the
one to be suited, after all, and I am
glad to be free.

POLLY TUCKER.

Thurs., Dec. 15.

This afternoon, before Mother and
I had had time to change our gowns,
Mr. lyadd rode up to the door. I
wanted to run away, but he caught
sight of me in passing the window,
and so I had to stay and see him.
Besides, I hardly think Mother cares
to entertain such people, for she al-
ways hands them over to me; so, if
I had made my escape, she would
have trotted up-stairs and brought
me down.

I was thankful that my gown was
tidy and my hair smooth, — our kitch-
en is always neat — so I felt quite at
ease in spite of not being dressed up.
Mr. Ladd said he had called to ask
me to take him to the wishing well,
as I had promised, so after chatting
for a few minutes we started off. The
well is in plain sight from the kitchen
window, but somehow it took us quite
a while to get to it, and once there,
Mr. lyadd was in no sort of haste to
go back to the house.

He said, " I suppose the charm
doesn't hold good after the first of
November, does it? Well, no mat-
ter, I '11 take a wish and drink to the
success of it, if I am a little late ! "

I tried to be as sedate and matter-
of-fact as possible, for I kept Mother's
hints in mind ; but one might as well
try to be dignified with a blackbird.

He chattered away as gaily as pos-
sible, and I thought he did not notice
my poor little attempt at reserve until
he undeceived me by suddenly ex-
claiming, — "Why, what a demure
expression ! I'm going to relieve
your anxiety and brighten 3'our face
by telling you what Auntie said to
me for running away from her guests
Thanksgiving, for I know that is
what you are worrying about ! ' ' and

unheeding my amused disclaimer, he
went on as if I had not spoken. When
she began her reprimand, he had
been sitting in the window-seat read-
ing till he was drowsy, and her sub-
ject wasn't the most inspiring one in
the world. He said he wanted me to
remember these facts in excuse for
what followed.

She began by telling him how .sorr}-
she was that he had been so lacking
in courtesy towards her friends as to
desert them entirely. They wondered
why he did not return after it was
time to expect him, and were dis-
appointed that he did not, as the}-
wanted to hear him sing. They were
old friends of the family, and what if
they were not quite agreeable to him ?
He should remember that a 3'oung
man of twenty-two is no longer a
boy, to be governed only by impulse,
etc.

For some time he felt distinctly
ashamed of himself, but the good
soul talked on and on until her voice
grew faint and fainter, and finally
ceased ; when he came to himself, his
aunt was nowhere to be seen, and the
maid was just bringing in the candles.
" Horrors ! " he exclaimed, " if I had
not added to xwy other sins the enor-
mity of going sound asleep while my
Aunt was talking to me! How's
that for an example of dutiful atten-
tion ? ' '

" Bad enough," I replied. "Was 'nt
she angry with you, and what sort of
penance did you have to pay ? "

"Angry? not a bit, and as for do-
ing penance, Aunt evidently consid-
ers me a hopeless case as far as her
ability to reform me goes, so she sor-
rowfulh' ' hoped my nap had done
me good,' and dropped the subject.
She is quite a talker, you know, and

POLLY TUCKER.

now when she begins a story, she
watches me to see that I don't drop
off again. She doesn't half do me
justice, for she had talked a full half
hour before I lost one word of her
remarks."

We had reached the house by this
time, and, as Mr. Ladd declined to
come in, Mother came to the door to
bid him good-by. Just as he started
off, he said he would like to call
again soon, if it would be quite agree-
able to all, with a look of inquiry at
Mother, who certainly had been a
shade less cordial in her manner
towards him than on previous occa-
sions. Mother hastened to invite
him to call whenever he liked, for
she would consider it a grave offense
to be deficient in courtesy towards
any of the Sherburne family. So he
is coming again, — soon.

Thursday, Dec. 22.

Sure enough, Mr. I^add did come
again soon. All the young people of
the neighborhood were going off on
a coasting expedition last Monday,
and Charlie and I were on our way to
call the Seavey girls, when, just op-
posite Mr. Foye's house, we met Mr.
L,add on his way to our house.

Of course we offered to go back,
but he would not hear a word to that,
so he turned about and walked along
with us to the Seavey 's, where the
girls, who were waiting for us, came
out and joined us. They were de-
lighted to see Mr. lyadd and at once
invited him to make one of the party
for the afternoon. He seemed pleased
to go, and we went off in high spirits.
The air was sharp with frost and the
snow crushed crisply under our feet.
Presently we came to the hill, where
we found a group of boys and girls,

who greeted us with shouts of wel-
come.

We joined them, and as there were
only about a dozen of us there was
room enough for all on one long bob-
sled. Down the steep hill we flew,
the keen wintry air feeling like icy
needles as we rushed through it,
when, suddenly, in the midst of our
glee, the runner struck a stump and
over we went, sled, load, and all !
There was a firm crust on the snow,
and on this we rolled and slid along,
some bringing up against a rock or
bush, and others keeping on to the
foot of the hill.

Off to one side of the hill there
is a deep hollow, where the snow is
heaped almost to the level of the hill
and where the crust is less firm than
anywhere else. Down into this drift
shot two of the party, rolling, scram-
bling, and screaming, the icy crust
breaking under their weight and pre-
cipitating them into the soft snow be-
neath. The rest of us took shorter
trips, so we picked ourselves up as
speedily as possible and hurried over
to the hollow, whence muffled cries
proceeded.

There we found something that
looked like a bundle of clothing,
which upon investigation proved to
be Eunice I^eavitt and Mary Seavey.
They were nearly buried in the drift
and Hunice was screaming as well as
she could with her face half buried in
the snow.

" What 's the matter, girls, are you
hurt? " we anxiously inquired.

"No, I guess not," replied Mary,
as she struggled upright and shook
the snow out of her clothes. " If I
be I, as I hope I may be, I believe
I 'm all right."

"Come, Eunice, if you are not

POLLY TUCKER.

hurt, do stop that noise, and let the
girls help you up," she added, see-
ing that Eunice, resisting our efforts
to assist her, still lay screaming and
moaning, a forlorn little heap on the
snow.

" I can't ! I can't, Mary ! I 'm dead! "
she sobbed. "Don't you see that I
am killed? Oh, dear! 0\^,dc-ar!''

"Well, I must say your voice is
pretty good for a dead girl's,"
laughed Mary, as she resolutely
pulled Eunice up and stood her on
her feet. "I do n't believe but what
you are more frightened than hurt,
after all."

"Why, Mary Seav^ey ! I guess I
know whether I 'm dead or not! I
k7iow my head is broken, for I heard
it crack, so there! If you don't
believe it is, I'll just prove it," re-
torted Eunice rather crossly.

So she untied her hood, shook the
snow out of it, and very gently
passed her hand over the top of her
head. All the party had gathered
around her by this time, and were
watching her anxiously.

" Why ! I do n't think my head is
broken, after all!" she exclaimed
joyfully. " It is this ! " and she held
up the fragments of her back comb,
which the fall had smashed. We
shouted with laughter, in the reac-
tion from our fright, and straight-
ening our damaged attire as well as
we could, we started off to look up
the sled.

Then, for the first time, we missed
Mr. Ladd.

We rushed to the scene of our
disaster and there we found him.
One side of his forehead was badly
scratched and bruised and he was
pinned down by the heavy sled
which lay across one leg. His eyes

were closed and he neither spoke nor
moved, while his face was deadly
pale.

We girls were dreadfully frightened
and were sure that he was dead, but
the boys tried to make us think that
he was only shamming and would
spring up presently and laugh at us
for being so easily duped. But the}'
soon found that there was no sham-
ming about that set, white face and
motionless figure, so we made him a
sort of couch by spreading our shawls
and wraps on the sled, and the boys
drew him to our house.

Very gently and carefully they
bore him from the sled to Mother's
room and laid him on the bed, and
then a sad company of young people
wended their way to their several
homes. As soon as Father saw Mr.
Ladd, he started Charlie off for Dr.
Pierpont and Major Sherburne, both
of whom came to him at once.
Meanwhile, Father and Mother had
worked unceasingly to restore Mr.
Eadd to consciousness, but with-
out success. Once he opened his
eyes for a moment, then closed them,
and again became unconscious. The
doctor shook his head as he looked
at Mr. Ladd, and said, "I don't
more than half like that stupor.
Which of you two men," looking
from Major S. to Father, " will help
me examine the youngster ? "

Major Sherburne was so unnerved
by the accident and the sight of Mr.
Ladd's pale face as to be practically
helpless. The doctor saw this, and
said to him very kindly, " Now, Major,
if you will entertain Mrs. Tucker in
the other room for awhile, Mr. Tucker
and I will try to find out how bad a
job we have in hand, and let 3"Ou
know as soon as possible." The Ma-

50 POLLY TUCKER.

jor demurred a little, but as Mother and I know if good care will avail

stood by the door waiting for him, anything, he will soon be about again,

he soon gave up and meekly followed I was so thankful that the dreadful

her out of the room. thing which seemed to have come to

After what seemed a long time, us had passed by, at least for the

Father came out of the bed-room and time, that there was no room in my

reported a badly bruised head and a heart for any other feeling than grati-

broken leg as the extent of Mr. lyadd's tude.

injuries; but that he must, on no ac- Major S. waited, fidgeting and ner-

count, be moved for the present, or vous, until the bone was set and the

brain fever would result. In that patient comfortable ; then, after mak-

case, the utmost care and most faith- ing arrangements with Mother for the

ful nursing would be required to pre- care of the invalid, he and Dr. P.

vent serious results. went off together to tell Madam S.

What a woful ending to our good the particulars and extent of the

time ! But Mother is a capital nurse, accident.

CHAPTER VI.

Dec. 25. bright and cheery, so in spite of
I left you rather abruptly the last uncertainty as to what Father and
time that I was up here, for Mother Mother might say, I ran out into the
called me before I had told you how woods behind the house, and, with
Mr. Ladd was after he was first hurt. Charlie's help, brought in some hem-
For the first week he was very ill, lock boughs and evergreen and hung
and there was a strong tendenc}^ to them up all around the room,
brain fever, but Dr. Pierpont finally When Father came in, he looked
got those symptoms under control, at them and smiled but made no re-
and since then he has gained a little mark about them, and Mother only
everyday. shook her head as she said, "You
When I opened my eyes this Christ- might spend your time to better ad-
mas morning, and remembered all the vantage than in decking the house
suspense and anxiety of the past two out so. Daughter," but as she did
weeks, now happily at an end, I felt as not tell me to take them down, I felt
if I must make some recognition of pleased and satisfied with my attempt
this day, which bids fair to be such a at keeping Christmas, — quite as if I
direful anniversary to us all. In spite had won a victory. The bed-room
of its being, as I've been taught, a door was ajar, and Mr. Ladd caught a
Popish custom, I like the practice of glimpse of the greenery in the kitchen
decorating one's home at this time and seemed gratified, I thought, for
with boughs as fresh and green as he said to Mother, " How bright and
the memory of the great event which cheery those decorations look." He
they commemorate should be in each is Episcopalian born and bred, and
heart. The frozen earth has little to has always been used to seeing the
attract at this season, but I thought house, as well as the church, deco-
the house could at least be made rated at Christmas, and now that he

POLLY TUCKER.

is ill among strangers, no doubt he
feels more at home on account of
them.

I think some of the Christmas spirit
found its way into my heart and
caused me to remember the angels'
song, — " Peace on earth, good- will to
men." There had been anger in my
heart towards Joseph Mason, and I
had refused to bow to him when he
stood in the doorway as I passed his
father's house, a few days ago. Of
course I cannot seek him, but I de-
cided this morning to speak to him
the next time we meet ; and really,
after this resolution was taken, I felt
more quiet and as if I were willing to
do as I would be done by, than I had

since our quarrel.

Sat., Dec. 31.

Just ten days ago we took that dis-
astrous slide down hill ! It seems a
year ago, at least. I am glad to be
able to tell you that Mr. I^add is im-
proving in health every day. He
gets very tired of stajdng in bed so
long, so Father has told him that he
shall have a bed made up in the
kitchen, where he can be with the
famil3^ He wouldn't listen to being
sent into the parlor, as Father at first
suggested, but declares there 's no
place half so nice in which to play
invalid as our kitchen ; so if he is as
well to-morrow as he is to-da}', Father
and Charlie are going to bring him

out.

Sun., Jan. i.

The first day oi the year, and the
proper time to make good resolu-
tions. As I never can keep more
than one of a list, I am going to con-
dense the whole into this one resolve :
To do my whole duty cheerfully,
whether it is entirely pleasant to me
or not. The day is clear, and would

be cold if our big fire did vot flaunt
such fierce defiance to tlie frosty air
indoors as to vanquish it entirely.
Everything in the kitchen looked
homelike and cosy, when the bed-
room door opened and we heard Mr.
ly. announce, " Lo I the conquering
hero comes ! ' ' and then Father and
Charlie appeared, bearing our patient
between them. They laid him on
the broad sofa opposite the fire, while
Mother brought Grandmother's swing-
ing screen from the parlor to shade
his eyes from the firelight, and alto-
gether he was as comfortable as pos-
sible, and as happy as a school-boy
on the first day of vacation. He
looks thin and quite pale, but the
brightness of his expression is just
the same as it was when he was well.

Major and Madam Sherburne came
to see him to-day, and were surprised
to find him out of bed. They were
delighted at the marked improvement
in his condition, and his aunt was a
good deal affected at the first sight
of his pale face. She kissed him
very tenderly, and said, "My dear
boy, you do n't know how thankful
I am to find you so much better than
I expected ! O Alfred ! ' ' she ex-
claimed the next moment, "how
much you look like your mother !
Now that you are pale, you are the
perfect likeness of my dear sister."
And she sat by the sofa, gazing into
his face, with streaming eyes, until
Mr. Ladd began to get a little ner-
vous, for he is still weak. The good
woman was so glad and thankful that
she forgot that so man}- tears, even
joyful ones, might not be pleasant
to a sick man. But, as usual, Major
Sherburne came to the rescue.

He shook hands heartily with Mr.
I,add, and said in his genial way,

POLLY TUCKER.

"Well done, my boy! Upon my
word, you look too comfortable, alto-
gether. I do n't half believe in that
broken leg. Wife. He has found a
comfortable place to lounge in, and,
with so much to admire," — with a
comprehensive glance at the fire and
then at me, — "I shouldn't wonder
if he were all winter getting well."

" I don't know but you and I had
better bundle him off home and see
how long he would stand his room
and John, — eh, Alfred?"

"And see how long John would
stand me, you mean, sir. No, I am
very well satisfied to be left just where
I am. I knew what I was about when
I rolled off that sled into the bosom
of this family," laughed Alfred.

" There, what did I tell you, Wife ? "
cried Major S.

"Well, Alfred, you couldn't be in
better hands, if you must be away
from home," said Madam S. ; "but
you must not get restless and impa-
tient at being housed so long, for
Mrs. Tucker has had a great deal of
care on account of your accident, and
you mustn't make her any more trou-
ble than you are obliged to."

"No, Aunt, I'll remember," meekly
replied Mr. L.

Just then Major Sherburne and
Mr. Ladd looked at each other and
laughed. It was so funny to hear
Madam S. talk to Mr. ly. as if he
were a little boy.

" What are you two laughing at, I
should like to know?" she asked,
looking from one to the other in
surprise.

"Oh, nothing," laughed Major S.,
"only you need not worry about
Alfred's getting 'restless and impa-
tient.' "

After chatting a while longer, the

Sherburnes went away, but before
they left they promised to send Mr.
lyadd some books which he wanted.
As soon as they were gone. Mother
sent us all out of the room, for she
said Mr. L,. was very tired and ought
to have a nap ; so I came up here to
you.

Tues., Jan. 3.

It is only two days since my New
Year's resolve was confided to you, —
and, fortunately, to you alone. I felt
quite good, and ready to make a
brave fight against discontent and
my faults generally, tw^o days ago ;
but now I am humiliated to find my-
self less sincere and generous than I
thought I was. You ought to be
very glad, my diary, that you are a
quiet, sensible book, instead of an
impulsive, contradictory, silly girl
like me ! But I '11 tell you what has
sent me to you, half penitent and
wholly impatient at my shortcom-
ings, and then you can judge if I
ought not to feel as I do.'

You see, we were all in the kitchen,
last evening, just after Father and
Charlie had taken Mr. Ladd to his
room, when in walked Joseph Mason !
He hasn't been here before since our
trouble, and at first I was too much
surprised to see him to wonder what
he came for. I soon found out, how-
ever, for after a little general conver-
sation, he asked me outright if he
could see me by myself for a few
minutes. I said " Yes," and led the
way into the parlor. I knew well
enough that we should nearly freeze,
for it is as cold as Nova Zembla in
there; but I was just hateful enough
to think, "Well, if it is cold, he
won't stay long." I was ashamed
of myself at once, for the poor boy
looked so manly and someway differ-

POLLY TUCKER.

ent from my boyish playmate Joe,
that I was half inclined to be shy.

He began to tell me why he wanted
to see me alone almost as soon as I
had set down the candle. He said,
" Polly, I want to apologize for speak-
ing so rudely to you the last time that
I was here. I thought then that I
had some excuse for doing so, but I
know better now ; before I knew, I
had no right to speak to 3'ou so. I
am going away to-morrow and I could
not let your last remembrance of me
be such an unpleasant one. Pardon
me, Polly, for the sake of the happy
old days when we were playfellows
and good friends." He waited for
me to speak, but I could not for
choking tears. So he said, " Good-
by, Polly, let me be your friend even
though I can never be more than that
to you," and with a quick pressure
of the hand he was gone.

I can't tell you, my diary, how

badly I felt when I realized that Joe
was really gone, and for good. I was
chilled, as well as disappointed, at
his being able to manage such a
cheerful, conchisive good-by. Now
wasn't that shabby of me? I
wouldn't allow him to care especially
for me, but as soon as he seemed to
accept the situation, I resented it. I
did n't know I was capable of such
meanness !

It seems that Charlie knew that
Joe's uncle in Boston had offered
him a place in his counting-room,
which Joe was glad to take, for his
uncle is a wealthy merchant who is
very fond of his namesake Joe.

Of course I am glad of his good
fortune, only — I never thought of
his going away ; and, too, he does n't
know that I wanted to tell him that
I am not angry now, — that, if he was
hasty, I was, as well. Why didn't
I speak when I had a chance to ?

\_To be contnined.^

A NEW YEAR'S RHYME.
By Clarence Henry Pearson.

" Happy New Year ! " afar and near
This salutation meets the ear ;

The school-girl shouts it to her mate,
The small boy lingers near the gate
And echoes back the cheerful cry
To every friendly passer-by.

No jarring note

Is set afloat
Upon the benison-freighted air,
No hint of discord anywhere ;

From dawning light

Till fall of night
The happy winter atmosphere
Bears naught but sounds of mirth and cheer.

Will it be happy ? Who shall say ?
No hand may sweep the veil away.

Some days the sun will shine, we know,
And we '11 enjoy its genial glow.
And when the sky with clouds is gray
We '11 borrow sunshine where we may ;

For that 's a debt

That may be met
Without diminishing our store.
For when we give, we have the more.

So come along

And swell the throng
Of those who shout with voices clear
The greetings of the glad New Year,

Conducted by Fred Cowing, State Sicperintetident of Public Instruction.

ONE YEAR'S EXPERIENCE IN THE MEDICAL INSPECTION OF
SCHOOLS AND THE SUPERVISION OVER THE ISOLATION
AND RELEASE OF INFECTED PERSONS.^

By S. H. Durgin, M. D., Boston.

Among the more recent work taken
up by the city board of health, is that
of making daily medical inspection of
the public and parochial schools, detect-
ing cases of contagious disease and giv-
ing timely professional advice to the
teachers concerning children who may
be too ill to remain in school for the
time being, and giving official super-
vision over the isolation and discharge
of all cases of diphtheria and scarlet
fever which are treated at home. It is
my purpose to give in this paper only a
brief statement of how this work was
started, the method of procedure, the
result of the first year's work and the
impression which the work has made
on the medical profession, the school
management, and the public, so far as
the evidence which has come to me
will warrant. It will be remembered
that many doubts and prejudices, both
in and out of the school board, had to
be overcome before our scheme for

' Read before the Boston Society of Medical Iniprov
Medical and Surgical Journal oi April 9, 1S96.

school inspection could be carried into
effect. . . .

The board of health began its offi-
cial efforts in this direction in Decem-
ber, 1890, and got alternate successes
and defeats from the governments
which control the finances of the city
and the public schools for a period of
four years. We finally succeeded un-
der the influence of a severe epidemic
of diphtheria, and began work Novem-
ber I, 1894, with the consent of the
mayor and the tacit consent of the
school board.

The board of health divided the city
into fifty districts, giving an average of
about four school-houses and fourteen
hundred pupils to each district. No
difficulty was experienced in finding
well-qualified and discreet physicians
who would undertake the duties pre-
scribed ; and the board selected and
appointed, without interference from
any source, one physician for each dis-

ement, December 30 1S95, .\nd published in The Boston

56 EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

trict, with a salary of two hundred dol- depressor which could be used once

lars a year, plus the honor and satisfac- and destroyed, and thus get rid of the

tion of serving in a good cause. His danger of communicating any disease

duty is to make a visit to each master's from one pupil to another, as well as to

school daily, soon after the beginning avoid unfavorable criticism upon that

of the morning session. The master score. After looking over many clever

receives from each of the teachers in devices, including the split wooden

his district, early reports as to the clothes-pin suggested by Dr. Temple,

appearance of symptoms of illness in and which, by the way, forms a sur-

any pupil in their charge. These re- prisingly cheap, available, and useful

ports are given to the visiting physi- depressor, I at last found in the little

cian, who at once examines the re- piece of wood which is in common use

ported children and makes a record of by florists for labeling plants, the hint

his diagnosis and action in books fur- to the successful article which I have

nished by the board of health for this caused to be manufactured and used

purpose, and kept in the custody of the by our medical inspectors, a package of

master. If the visiting physician finds which I have here to show you. These

the child too ill to remain in school, he little pieces of clean pine are made for

advises the teacher to send the child us in a sawmill up in New Hampshire,

home for the observation and care of its and they cost the city one eighteenth of

parents and family physician. If the a cent each. They are without objection

illness is from a contagious disease, the in use or appearance, and will burn as

child is ordered home and the case re- easily, as a match, which is the intended

ported to the board of health. If the destiny of each after being used once,

child who is thus sent home, returns The thermometer is rarely a necessity

the next day with continued illness, the in these examinations, and when used

same action by physician and teacher is treated with due care,

will be repeated and sustaine4 by the The medical inspector never under-

health and school boards. The dis- takes to give professional treatment in

position of the sick child while at home any case. He merely points out the

and the possibilities of neglect in cases need of professional treatment where

where contagious diseases develop in the need exists. The treatment itself

such children, as well as giving them a must be received from the family physi-

warrant for returning to school, has not cian or in the hospitals, or in the dis-

yet been fully provided for, but is in pensaries. The total number of chil-

contemplation, and the truant officers dren examined between November i,

may need to be brought into this ser- 1894, and October 31, 1895, was

vice in making the system complete. 14,666, of whom 9,188 were found to

In the examination of the children in be sick and 5,472 were found not to be

school, every facility is extended to the sick. The number found sick enough

doctor, and he. in turn, reaches a satis- to be sent home was 1,745. Of these,

factory conclusion with the least possi- 437 were suffering from contagious or

ble delay or annoyance to any one. infectious diseases as follows : Diph-

There being frequent need for looking theria, 70; scarlet fever, 26; measles,

into the children's throats, I looked no; whooping cough, 28; mumps, 43;

about to find something for a tongue pediculosis, 66 ; scabies, 42 ; congenital

ED UCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

syphilis, 8 ; chicken-pox, 34. These
children were in their seats, spreading
contagious diseases amongst other chil-
dren. The number of children who
were saved from these diseases by the
timely discovery and isolation of the
sick ones is, of course, beyond compu-
tation. The other diseases which were
discovered and for which the necessity
for treatment was pointed out were as
follows: Abscess, 2sZ'-> adenoids, 116;
ansemia, 41 ; bronchitis, 226 ; catarrh,
195 ; cellulitis, 13 ; chorea, 18 ; colds,
93; coughs, 26; coryza, 70; debility,
80 ; dermatitis, 31 ; diseases of the ear,
62 ; diseases of the eye, 592 ; eczema,
200 ; enlarged tonsils, 691 ; enlarged
uvula, II ; epilepsy, 11 ; headache, 326;
indigestion, 105; influenza, 15; laryn-
gitis, 132; malaria, 20; nausea, 63;
Pott's disease, 3 ; pharyngitis, 1,196 ;
ringworm, 61 ; sore throat, 765 ; swollen
glands, hi; tinea, 28; tonsilitis, 2,269;
ulcer, 16; wounds, 53; vaccination
needed, 582 ; miscellaneous, 496 ; total,
9,187.

To find these diseases at home in the
family of the pupil, whether contagious
in character or unpleasant to the sight,
is looked upon with comparative in-
difference by the public, but when they
are found in the public schools or in
any other place where the public or
private rights of other parties are con-
cerned, then the laws which deny one
the right to use his own or the public
place to the injury of his neighbor,
must be invoked. We have now 71,495
pupils and about i,*5oo teachers in our
public schools and 11,808 in the paro-
chial schools of Boston. It is fair to
say that under the stimulus of this
daily medical attention, every teacher
will become more and more expert and
desirous to detect any existing illness
amongst the children under his or her

charge. Every parent can feel that his
child is less exposed to disease in
school and less likely to be ill without
immediate and proper attention from
teacher and physician than at any pre-
vious time. I am satisfied that it would
be hard to find a field for medical in-
spection and supervision which presents
equal facilities for detecting diseases
amongst congregated bodies or which
offers more encouraging results.

In looking over the list of diseases
which we have found amongst the chil-
dren attending our schools, one is
forced to notice several ills which may
not only be induced but aggravated and
perpetuated by the present faulty means
of seating children, a subject which has
recently engaged the attention of this
society with very hopeful results. But
that which strikes one more forcibly is
the excessive prevalence of diseases in
the throat, lungs, and air-passages. We
find, of the 9,188 children found to be
sick, no less than 5,689 had acute or
chronic diseases thus located, and of
these 5,053 were located in the throat.
I would not overlook the many faulty
conditions of the homes of the school-
children or the many other outside in-
fluences which contribute to the causes
of these ills; but we are painfully aware
of the fact that in many of our school-
houses there are such grave deficiences
in ventilation, heating, and cleanliness,
with the attendant excessive heat or
cold and sudden alternations from one
to the other, that we are warranted in
concluding that a portion, at least,
of this illness is chargeable to school
attendance. The very large number of
cases of tonsilitis, pharyngitis, laryn-
gitis, and sore throat found, gives rise
to a strong suspicion, especially in view
of our recent work in culture diagnosis,
that if cultures had been made in all

ED UCA TIONA L DEPAR TMENT.

these cases, many of them would have
been found to be accompanied by diph-
theria bacilli. We hope to have, here-
after, such arrangements as will be con-
venient to make more cultures at the
schools before sending the children
home.

Incidental to this school inspection,
the same corps of medical men is also
serving as agents of the board of health
in the control of contagious diseases
which are treated at home. The board
of health sends to each of the school
inspectors, every morning, a full list of
the cases of diphtheria and scarlet fever
which have been reported during the
previous twenty-four hours. Each med-
ical officer selects the cases reported in
his district, visits them to see if they
are properly isolated at home, leaves a
card for the attending physician, politely
informing him of the official visit, and
reports his approval or disapproval of
the isolation at once to the board of
health for its action. If the patient is
properly isolated, the officer places a
card on the door of the room to indi-
cate the official designation of such
room for the isolation of the patient.
If the case is not properly isolated and
such isolation cannot be commanded at
home, he reports such facts to the
board of health, and such patient is at
once ordered to the hospital. He
makes another visit to the patient in the
question of discharge from isolation,
and again reports his conclusions to the
board of health. If it is a case of diph-
theria, a negative report from the lab-
oratory to the board of health is neces-
sary ; and if it is a case of scarlet fever,
desquamation must have ceased and
the fact be certified by the school in-
spector, before such patient can law-
fully be released from isolation. This
school inspector and agent of the board

of health is indirectly held responsible
for the proper isolation of the patient at
home, for causing the patient's removal
to the hospital when necessary, and for
the patient's release from isolation ; in
other words, the board of health is thus
provided with trustworthy information
upon which it can act for the best pro-
tection of the schools and the public
against the spread of contagious dis-
eases.

DISCUSSION.

Dr. H. E. Marion : One of the
strongest arguments, it seems to me,
for the establishment of this board of
inspectors is the confidence and assur-
ance it has given the public since it
has been established. We can but con-
trast the condition one year ago, when
every one was clamoring . to have his
child taken from school or have the
schools closed, with the present, when
one hears, nothing about it, although
the number of cases of diphtheria is
nearly as large as a year ago. That
is due to the exact and careful diag-
nosis.

With reference to the book Dr. Dur-
gin has shown, it may be of interest to
some of the inspectors and teachers to
know the device one of the teachers in
my district has adopted for simplifying
the work. He has an ordinary card
with the date printed on it, and every
morning each teacher throughout his
jurisdiction is supposed to inquire into
all the cases of ailment that appear;
and more than that, at my request, he
has required all pupils absent from any
cause whatever to report for examina-
tion. They put the name of the pupil
on this card, and the card is brought
to the master's office. When I call, I
record my diagnosis or recommenda-
tion on the card and send it back to

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT. 59

the teacher for her information. She these days of micro-organisms, I do not

signs and returns it to the master, and know how many different kinds I am in-

he has it copied into the book Dr. Dur- troducing with the virus,

gin has shown. He thus has a record I have been in most hearty coopera-

on file, and I have a record from which tion with all these advanced ideas in the

to make my report. care of our school children, and I think

In regard to the cases of nasal catarrh the testimony of the figures Dr. Durgin

alluded to, I have felt sure that many has shown must be convincing to all

were due to adenoid growths, and it has that we have opened a new and broad

been my recommendation to the teacher field, and one that will amount to some-

that the parents' attention be called to thing in the future.

these; and in many instances I have Mr. J. A. Page, Master of the Dwight

known them to go to their physician School: I thank you, Mr. President, for

and have the growth removed, much inviting me to be here, but I do not

to their benefit. Another thing I have really know what one can say after the

noticed is the willingness that many of very full exposition Dr. Durgin has made

the parents have shown in sending their of the scheme as a scheme. I should

children or going themselves to the hos- like to say with what heartiness I en-

pital. Since we have been so well pro- dorsed the plan, and how it works in

vided with hospital service, they have no my school. Many years ago I used to

repugnance in allowing their children to to feel a certain embarrassment as to

be taken to the hospital, thus making what it would be proper to do in given

more effectual the isolation of the pa- cases, and since this plan has gone into

tient. operation I have been very greatly re-

With reference to another thing not lieved, as well as the teachers of my

strictly connected with this, — to the district, some twenty or thirty. That

cards we are obliged to sign, — I think alone would be a great thing to say in

it is a statute law that two weeks must favor of any scheme. I therefore bear

elapse after the recovery, removal, or the most willing testimony to the ar-

death of an individual before any pupil rangement that has been perfected with

from the family can return to school, so much detail; and the only thing that

Of course we want to be law-abiding, I can suggest is, that the master of the

but it seems to me that this rule is school ought to have the card come to

rather nonsensical now. If the culture him from a reliable source, when the

is negative and the house has been fum- house has been properly disinfected,

igated, it is just as safe the day after as instead of its coming through an irre-

two weeks after for the rest of the family sponsible physician whom he has never

to attend school. It seems wrong to the heard of. If that could be furnished

pupil and unjust to the school not to from headquarters, I see no difficulty

have the other children in school. with the scheme.

Another point with reference to vac- Mr. A. H. Kelly, Master of the Ly-

cination, the examination of the arm. I man School : I bear most willing testi-

think the time is not far distant when mony in favor of the good work that is

the board of health will take charge being done by the board of health in

of the production of the vaccine virus, connection with our public schools. We

as they have the matter of antitoxin. In Boston masters have a great deal of re-

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

sponsibility, which we would very gladly
divide with others. The responsibility
for the physical conditions of our chil-
dren, we feel that we are incompetent
to pass upon ; and it is with great pleas-
ure that we feel now that we can turn to
those who are fully competent to decide
every question in regard to that matter.
The establishment of confidence is
always a great factor in assisting in any
right action. I think this establishment
of confidence in the communities has
led parents to send their children more
readily to school, now that they under-
stand fully, as they do, the action which
has been taken by the board of health
and is being taken daily. The confi-
dence which comes to us as masters and
teachers is equally helpful to us. It is
reported, and I believe it to be true,
that fear is a strong element in spread-
ing contagion. I know that just before
the establishment of this scheme, by
which the board of health was brought
into such close relation with the
schools, there was a great deal of fear
of contagion in the schools. Especially
was this true in the community where
my work is done. It would crop out
not only in the homes, but in the schools
as well. I could detect a feeling of un-
rest among teachers, and it was neces-
sary for me to do what I could to calm
their fears. Whenever any sickness was
reported in the classes among the chil-
dren, the report would bring to them
the fear that contagion was spreading
at just that time. I had no one to
whom I could appeal, if I except cer-
tain physician friends who in certain
cases assisted me to allay suspicion.
Now in matters of that sort we have
prompt help; and, to my mind, the
feeling of security on the part of teach-
ers, principals, children, and parents is
one of the best possible things that can

happen to maintain confidence in our
public schools.

I suppose it is a fundamental prin-
ciple that those who are best qualified
to take charge of an undertaking are
the ones who should take charge of it.
Of course, physicians should take charge
of matters of health. The decided re-
lief which comes to all of us who feel
that we are wholly incompetent to take
charge of such things is too great to
be expressed, when we feel the amount
of responsibility we have in other re-
spects. I am certain that in my own dis-
trict there were many instances where
contagion was prevented from spread-
ing to any great degree, where it cer-
trinly would have spread alarmingly
had it not been for the prompt assist-
ance of the medical inspector. One or
two cases I have now in mind. One
was that of a child who was feeling ill
in the morning, not apparently very ill,
but the teacher said she thought the
boy ought to be examined. He was
examined, and the inspector found the
child in a very bad condition, and he
was immediately removed from school.
There were other children in the family
who were sent home at the same time,
for fear the disease, that was apparent
in this one, might also spread through
them; but I was entreated by the fa-
ther to allow the children to come back
at once. I said, "It is for your good
that this is done"; and I finally made
him to understand that it was not on
account of anything against the chil-
dren, but for their benefit that they
were not allowed to attend school.
Before the case was over, the father
felt just as we did, that the greatest
possible favor had been done his chil-
dren ; for they were removed and cared
for where the disease might be treated
before it was beyond control.

3 -< 7 /^

ED UCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

I want to bear witness to the general
helpfulness that comes to us through
the medical inspector in other ways.
We find in the district where I am,
much more than in some others, that
when children are sent home they have
no family physician upon whom to call
and no money to pay for medical ad-
vice; and they do need help sadly at
times. I want to bear evidence to the
help that they have received from our
medical inspector, when there was no
possibility or expectation on his part
of ever getting anything of a financial
value for his work. I feel that if all the
medical inspectors have been as faith-
ful and true in the localities wherein
their work is done, as is the medical
inspector who has charge in my district,
that the good that comes to us from the
board of health is much greater and
wider spread than might at first ap-
pear.

Another thing in regard to a single
case, that would, if I am correctly in-
formed in regard to the matter, make it
advisable, as it seems to me, to have
the powers of the board of health fur-
ther extended. It happened that there
was a little fellow playing about in the
yard, who attempted to jump across
from one granite curbing to another.
He fell a little short, and cut a bad
gash in his knee. The child was at
once sent home, with the expectation
that he would be cared for by the fam-
ily physician ; but the parents came to
see me soon after, and said that the
boy's leg was in a very bad condition.
I asked the medical inspector, if, as a
favor to me and to the family, he would
go and see the boy. He did so. It was
fortunate for the child that the medical
inspector went as soon as he did.

Since a medical inspector was ap-
pointed for my district, I have allowed
no child who had been out because of
sickness to return to school without his
sanction.

I am in hearty sympathy with this
work of the board of health, and hope
it will receive the aid of all those who
can strengthen it in every way it needs
strengthening.

Mr. Tetlow: I hardly feel there is
any need of my saying anything after
what has been said by Mr. Page and
Mr. Kelly, and I think I will content
myself with merely endorsing what they
have said, and will add one word to ex-
press the satisfaction it gives me to see
the very sympathetic attitude of physi-
cians towards the public schools in this
matter and in other matters. I assure
you, gentlemen, it is an attitude that
we very cordially appreciate. As mas-
ter of a girls' school, I have sometimes
felt that I had occasion to anticipate
the attitude on the part of physicians
towards the work of a girls' school,
which of necessity makes somewhat
severe demands on the time out of
school of the pupil. It has seemed to
me sometimes as if there were a ten-
dency on the part of physicians to
attribute to the school almost every-
thing that proved to be injurious to the
physical condition of the young girl,
and no matter what the social condi-
tions, the school was the cause of what-
ever physical injuries or physical dis-
abilities the pupil suffered under. But
since I have come more into personal
relations with physicians, and especially
since this movement started by physi-
cians for medical inspection of schools
has been established, I have felt that I
was mistaken.

COL. THOMAS E. BARKER.

Col. Thomas E. Barker was born in Canterbury in 1839, ^"*^ died at Maiden,
Mass., December 16. In 1861 he enlisted from Concord, in Company D, Second
New Hampshire Volunteers, and served with distinction throughout the war,
rising, grade by grade, to the rank of colonel of the Twelfth New Hampshire regi-
ment. He was captured at the first Battle of Bull Run, and was confined for ten
months in rebel prisons before being exchanged. For the last twenty-two years
he had been a resident of Maiden, and had been prominent in its social and busi-
ness life. At the time of his death, he was at the head of the firm of Barker &
Harris, importers and commission merchants, of Boston.

G. H. SLEEPER.

George H. Sleeper was born in Brentwood 78 years ago, and died in Water-
town, Mass., December 18. Early in life he was employed as a stage driver, and
drifted from that into railroad contract work. Just previous to, and during, the
war he was in charge of the construction of government buildings. Since the war
he had resided at Watertown, and had been engaged in business as a freighter.
He was a 33d degree Mason, and prominent in the order throughout the state.

HON. WILLIAM BASSETT.

Hon. William Bassett was born in Richmond, October 5, 1819, and died at
Berlin, Mass., December 10. He was a tanner by trade, and successful in busi-
ness. He had served as a member of the Massachusetts state senate, and had
written a history of Berlin.

EDWIN M. BULLARD.

Edwin Marcus Bullard was born in Richmond, October 18, 1848, and died at
Keene, October 4. He was a druggist of wide experience in this state, and at
the time of his death at the head of the firm of Bullard &: Shedd, Keene. He was
prominent in Masonic and social life, and was public spirited and enterprising.

JOHN C. MORRISON.

John C. Morrison was born in Boscawen, July 18, 1837, and died in the same
town, November 23. He was engaged throughout life in the lumbering business
and as a farmer and horse breeder. In 1893 he was appointed by the governor
and council, commissioner to appraise unincorporated and other lands for taxable
purposes. He was very prominent in the grange, and at the time of his death
was president of the State Fair association. He had served his town as select-
man and representative, and held other offices.

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 63

HON. REUBEN L. FRENCH.

Hon. Reuben L. French was born in Loudon 78 years ago, and died in Pitts-
field, December 14. He began life as clerk in a country store and commenced
business on his own account when he was 18 years of age. From ^838 to 1877
he was the successful proprietor of a store at Pittsfield. Since that date he had
been engaged in other business. He was trustee and treasurer of the Pittsfield
academy, for 30 years president of the Pittsfield Savings bank, a member of the
state senate in 1871, and a director in the Suncook Valley railroad, of which he
was one of the most earnest promoters. He was prominent in the work of the
Congregational church, and a friend of education, temperance, and religion.

CHARLES F. BARRETT.

C. F. Barrett, for more than half a century a resident of Concord, died November
26, aged 73. He began work as a locomotive fireman on the Concord railroad, when
it was opened to Concord in 1842, and later was promoted to engineer, continuing
as such for 45 years, 40 of which he was in charge of passenger trains. Mr. Bar-
rett served as engineer under every master mechanic ever employed by the corpo-
ration, and his record of continuous service is unparalleled in this country. When
he left his engine he became foreman of the round-house at Nashua. About two
years since, he was retired on full pay, as a reward for his faithful service. Mr.
Barrett was a member of Mt. Horeb Commandery, Knights Templar.

ALVIN B. BUTTERFIELD.

Alvin Bliss Butterfield died at his residence in Boston, December 21. Mr.
Butterfield was born in Winchester, March 15, 1819. When a young man he went
to New York, where he was engaged in the wholesale grocery business for several
years, and later came to Boston, where he continued in the same business, being
associated with the late David Ellis, of Cambridge, for 15 years. Later he went
into company with Richard A. Newell, under the firm name of A. B. Butterfield &
Co., which remained the name of the concern up to the time of his retirement
from business in 1887. Mr. Butterfield was senior director of the Howard Na-
tional bank, having been connected with that institution about 40 years. He was
also a member of the chamber of commerce.

BENJAMIN L. CULVER.

Benjamin L. Culver was born in Norwich, Vt., in 1830, but had spent his life
in New Hampshire; his death occurred in Suncook, December 6, 1896. He was
a photographer by profession ; a member of Jewell Lodge, Hiram Chapter, of
Masons; Howard Lodge, Hildreth Encampment, L O. O. F. ; Orient Lodge,
K. of P. He leaves a widow, a native of Hopkinton, Miranda Knowlton Culver.

FRANKLIN TENNEY.

Franklin Tenney was born in Hudson, January 17, 1808, and died at Wash-
ington, November 22. He was engaged all his life in the hotel business, at first
in his native town, then in Manchester, and later in Washington, where he had
been proprietor of the National hotel since 1857.

64 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

A. p. OLZENDAM.

Abraham P. Olzendam, who died at Manchester, December 23, was born in

Barmer, Prussia, October 10, 182 1, and came to this country in 1848. For the

next 14 years he was employed in Massachusetts and Manchester mills as a dyer.

In 1862 he commenced business for himself as a manufacturer of hosiery, and

so continued until his death, steadily building up his plant until to-day it employs

300 hands, and is one of the best established industries of the city. He had

served as a member of the state house of representatives and senate and as a

presidential elector.

JAMES R. KENDRICK.

James R. Kendrick was born in Lebanon in March, 1833, and died very sud-
denly in a Boston cab, December 11. He began railroading when 19 years of age,
in the office of the superintendent of the Sullivan railroad, at Charlestown.
Shortly after, he went to the Central Vermont, and remained there until 1854.
For the next 15 years he was connected with the Concord railroad, rising to the
place of general superintendent. In 1870 he went South and performed the im-
portant work of opening a line from Mobile to New Orleans. Returning North,
he was made superintendent of the Old Colony railroad, which position he held
until 1883, when he was made general manager. In 1893, when the Old Colony
was leased by the New York, New Haven & Hartford, Mr. Kendrick was made
third vice-president of the latter road, which position he held at his death. JVIr.
Kendrick was one of the most successful railroad men New England ever pro-
duced, his thorough knowledge of every detail combining with great executive
ability and sterling qualities of brain and heart with wonderful results.

A. L. MESERVE.

December 13, Hon. Arthur L. Meserve died in Bartlett, where he was born,
April 18, 1838. He had been a leading merchant, and had written much for the
press. He had filled all the town offices, including that of representative to the
legislature; was county commissioner from 1875 to 1878, served on the staff of
Governor Weston, and was a member of Governor Bell's council.

J. H. ALLEN.

J. Howe Allen, principal of "The Crest," a boarding school for boys, at Sing
Sing, N. Y., died, December 10, aged 64 years. He was born in Lebanon, of one
of the oldest families of New England, a family of educators, represented in the
leading colleges, and at West Point. He was educated at Williams college.

hJ
I?

!iS ;i^

K
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The Granite Monthly.

Vol.. xxn.

FEBRUARY, 1897,

No.

CANAAN.
By Le Roy Smart.

alone.

WHATEVER there may
'^' be m a name, it can
be truthfully said that
Canaan's interest does
not centre in its name
Nearly every one that visits
this town from the outside world
carries away some memento, which
ever after brings to mind fond recol-
lections. Thus it is apparent that
there is something more than the
mere suggestiveness of the name of

Canaan to arouse the reader's inter-
est as he glances through the history
of our grand old New England town.

Of this rural old town, so charm-
ingly situated on the Mascoma river,
only forty miles northwest from Con-
cord, on the line of the Northern rail-
road, volumes might be written, por-
traying its natural resources and pic-
turesque loveliness.

As we are to describe Canaan as
she now is, it might be appropriate

-W^i

''•#'

A View on Canaan Street.

66 CANAAN.

to commence with a pen picture of
the town or grant previous to the
I advent of the pioneer. Let us take
^ our ej'es off from its lovely landscape
^. and luxuriant fields of to-da^^ and,
^ glancing back into the dim and dis-
^ tant past, picture in our imagination
& a scene in a solitary wilderness, amid
:« the monarchs of the forest, the extent
5 of which the royal grantors of char-
:? ters had never imagined.

Tradition says the stretch of coun-
try from Cardigan's rocky summit
to Lebanon's line, now comprising
Canaan and Enfield, was covered by
the primeval forest, so dense that the
noonday sun scarcely penetrated its
sombre depths. Through these vast
leafy courts the wild animals of the
I' forest roamed with perfect freedom,

> while the Indian lured the speckled
« beauties from the swift waters of the
';^ river, which now bears his name, or
5 paddled his canoe on Mascoma lake's

> placid bosom, in peaceful commune
I with nature.

I And what has been the effect of
the onward march of civilization
upon this wild and romantic region ?
Scarcely one hundred and twenty-
five years have elapsed since the
smoke from the first white man's
cabin went curling skyward, a sym-
bol of the paleface's supremacy, but
we find a typical New England town,
po.ssessing rich meadows, fertile up-
lands, and beautiful scenery.

The civil history dates back to
January, 1766, when John Scofield
gathered his personal effects onto a
hand sled and set out in search of
"the promised land." Scofield
made this journey, a distance of four-
teen miles, over the snow crust. The
hazardous undertaking of traveling
through the unbroken forests was

CANAAN.

aggravated that winter by deep
snows and extreme cold, causing the
wolves to leave their mountain re-
treats and come down in droves.
But a spirit of daring which could
resist cold and hunger and even the
tomahawk of the dusky savage, w^as
bound to surmount all obstacles in
mounting the pillar of success.

Other settlers followed Scofield the
next year, among whom were George
and Joshua Harris, Thomas Miner,

Rapids below the Mill.

Samuel Jones, and Samuel Meacham.

These earl}' settlers were a noble
race of men. In them were united
all the substantial virtues requisite
to the establishment of a prosperous
community. The}' practised that in-
dustry and economy indispensable to
the prosperity of all pioneer settlers
in a new country ; here they added
a wise forecast and preserving deter-
mination which ensued in a generous
competency.

Upon one occasion Mr. Scofield

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Mtek:

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The Old Academy.

was compelled to make a journey on
foot to lycbanon, a distance of some
fourteen miles. It was in the spring
of the year, and during his absence
much rain fell, swelling the Mas-
coma so that it overflowed its banks
and the extensive intervales on either
side. It would have been folly to
trust to a raft on the violently rush-
ing stream, and for several days he
was unable to go across to his family.
At this time his wife was the only
person in the new township, and was
obliged to remain alone in their rude
domicile during her husband's pro-
tracted absence.

The charter was granted, July 9,

High School Building.

CANAAN.

The Town House.

1 76 1, nearly five years previous to
the first permanent settlement, to
sixt3^-two persons, all of whom ex-
cept ten belonged in Connecticut.
It consisted of 23,000 acres, a tract
six miles square, and was named
after Canaan, Connecticut.

The first meeting for the choice of
town officers was held on the third
Tuesday of August, 1761, and Thom-
as Gustin was appointed moderator.

The charter named certain condi-
tions which were to be fulfilled, oth-
erwise the rights would be forfeited.
Among them were the following :

' ' The grantee is to plow and culti-
vate five acres out of every fort}^ for
the term of five years."

"All white and pine trees fit for
masting or the u.se of the royal navy
must be carefully preserved."

Methodist Church, at the Street.

Baptist Cnurch, at the Village.

"That a tract of land should be
reserved in the centre of the town-
ship for town lots."

"Yielding and paying
therefor to us, our heirs
and successors, for the
.space of ten years, to be
computed from this date,
the rent of one ear of In-
dian corn onl}' on the
twenty-fifth of December,
annually, if lawfull}^ de-
manded ; the first payment
to be made on the twenty-
fifth day of December,
1762."

"Every proprietor, set-
tler or inhabitant shall
yield from and after the

CANAAN.

expiration of ten years, commencing
on the twenty-fifth day of Decem-
ber, 1772, one shining Proclamation
money, for every hundred acres he
owns or settles."

The charter bears the signature of
His Excellency, with advice, etc.,
Benning Wentworth, and Theodore
Atkinson, secretary. It was recorded
in the book of charters July 9, 1761.

The first legal meeting of the pro-
prietors was appointed July 19, 1768,
at the house of John Scofield. Few
and weak in numbers, indeed, was
the mere handful of men who assem-
bled that day to wrestle with the
public affairs, but, with their hard-
ened visages sternly set toward the

Catr.olic Church, at the Village.

sunrise of prosperit}' and develop-
ment, they did what seemed for the
best. George Harris acted as mod-
erator at this meeting, and Joseph
Crow was elected the first proprie-
tors' clerk.

At this meeting, it was voted to

t r

nil

The Old Congregational Church, at the Street.

allow ten acres of meadow land to
those who had made their pitch on
the upland. Thus all the grantees
were privileged with obtaining a
share of the rich and prolific inter-
vale land, which afforded each pro-
prietor a variety of soil.

Ezekiel Wells was the next pro-
prietors' clerk, which office he filled
with acceptance. Among the clerks
who w^ere appointed afterward are
the following: Jedediah Hebbard,
Samuel Jones, Charles Walsworth,
and Thomas Miner.

It is a noteworthv fact that the

Methodist Church, at the Village.

CANAAN.

George W. Davis.

question of roads was among the first
to receive the early settlers' attention.
For some time after the town was set-
tled, the inhabitants traveled on
horseback or went on foot. The
land was naturally very rough and
uneven. Finding it difficult to trans-
port merchandise to the place with-
out wagons, actions were taken early
in June, 1770, when a committee was
appointed to lay out and make neces-
sary roads. A tax of six shillings

was imposed on each proprietor's
right to defray expenses. The com-
mittee consisted of Joseph Crow,
Samuel Benedict, and Samuel Jones.
Among the first roads laid out was
the Governor's road.

It was enacted, April 13, 1777,
' ' That a road be laid out three rods

■^Issi.

Alvin Davis.

Residence of George W. Davis.

wide, and made passable from the
governor's house in Wolfeborough
through Moultonborough, Plymouth,
and from thence on the
straightest and best
course to Dartmouth col-
lege in Hanover." This
road was built at a great
expense, a tax of two
pounds being assessed
upon each proprietor's
right. The road passes
through the north part
of the town, but has
not been used for many
years. The South road
was one of the earliest

CANAAN.

roads in town, and it was in
this locality that the first set-
tlements were made by John
Scofield, Thomas Miner, and
others.

Soon, other parts of the
town became settled, and a
resolution was passed to " Lay
out a road and clear the same
from the low^er meadows across
Town Hill to the road that
goes to the mills." Early in

1803, a committee was appoint- , ^_^

ed to confer with other towns
in regard to a new turnpike.
The road was soon after laid out,
and was incorporated June 27, 1804,
as the Grafton turnpike. This road

Major Stephen R. Swett.

now passes through- the Village and
Canaan Street.

With the opening of roads, which
greatly increased facilities for trans-
portation, a new era of prosperitj^
commenced. The embryo town was
becoming to feel the need of a mill

Residence of O. L- Rand.

in the place, and it w^as voted May
10, 1770, that a corn and sawmill be
built by the proprietors of Canaan.
The mill was to be completed in a
good, workmanlike manner b)' the
twenty-sixth of December, 1770;
also, that a tax of twelve shillings
be assessed upon each proprietor's
share. Thomas Miner commenced
building the mill on a very eligible
privilege on Mascoma river.

CANAAN.

It was voted that Thomas Miner,
in consideration of the building of
the mill, should have one hundred
acres of land, to be laid out so as to
secure to said Miner the full privilege
with a dam across said river, and a
part of the white pine timber ; also
to procure a pair of mill stones for
his mill. The Miner mills were
soon completed and in operation,
which occasioned a general rejoic-
ing. There was plenty of logs for
the saw, but the sound of grinding
was low. The soil had not com-

was afterwards moved to the village
and reconstructed into a tavern, and
is to-day well known as the Cardigan
hotel. In 17S3, Rev. Thomas Bald-
win, D. D., was ordained and settled
over it. Dr. Baldwin remained until
1790, when he removed to Boston.
He frequently visited Concord on foot
through the wilderness, and it was
on one of those solitary walks, in his
meditation on the unity of God's
people if they faithfully followed ^His
word, that he composed the familiar
and beautiful stanzas commencing

Edward M. Allen. George H. Gordon. Arthur P. Follansbee.

THREE WELL KNOWN CANAAN MEN,

menced to yield freely of its increase ;
the land was new and rugged ; the
seasons cold and backward, and all
these, supplemented by the depreda-
tions of bears, wolves, and other wild
animals, illustrate only a few of the
obstacles the early settlers were
obliged to meet.

And' yet, notwithstanding their
earthly trials and tribulations, time
was found for divine worship. The
first church was organized in 1780, of
Baptist denomination. This church
was located on the South road, but

with, " From whence doth this union
arise ? ' '

It is said that many difficulties
were encountered in the establish-
ment of the church, and in some in-
stances violent opposition was mani-
fested. For forty years this church
enjoyed the distinction of being the
only one in town. A Congregational
society was established in 1820, and
Rev. Charles Calkins ordained as
pastor. For a number of years this
church was in a most flourishing
condition. Later, a Methodist so-

CANAAN.

ciety was incorporated.
They are now divided into
two societies, with one
church at the \'illage and
one at the Street. Services
are conducted in the Street
church from ten till eleven,
and at the Village from one
till two, by Rev. C . K. Reed,
the present pastor. Reli-
gious services are also held
at the Village by two other
denominations, Freewill
Baptists and Roman Cath-
olics.

With six churches in
town, including the Advent
chapel, it seems as though
the people ought not to
lack for gospel enlighten-
ment, or the Sabbath be
allowed to pass unobserved.

Although this town was
not signalized by the dire
conflict of battle, yet the
same patriotic spirit was
infused in the breasts of
the rural laborers. A large
meeting was held in obedi-
ence to the recommenda-
tion of the Continental
congress, and resolutions
were passed in opposition
to England. A canvass
of the town was made in
search of arms, etc., and
a cop3' of the report reads
as follows : " Canaan, Sep-
tember 22, 1775. * Upon
d i 1 1 i g e n t search we find
that we Have a Gun for
Every one that is capable
of yousing then, as for
Power and Eead we Have
None By us, taste By us,
Asa Kilburn, Ebenezer

Across Crystal Lake.

George W. Murray, Esq.

i^-v^UPW

F. B. Smart.

CANAAN.

C. O. Barney.

Eames, Selectmen." Men were fitted
out for the war, and from time to
time the Continental army received
recruits from Canaan.

The same patriotic spirit was prev-
alent in the late rebellion, when many
of the citizens enlisted. vSome sacri-
ficed their lives on the battle-field ;
others, more fortunate, won special
renown on the field of glory, and
returned to be respected for their

firmness, promptitude, and readiness
to encounter anj^ danger, or submit
to any exposure of life and sacrifice
of personal comfort.

When some of the privations ex-
perienced by the early settlers are
considered, it will be seen that the

/^=^

The Lucerne.

Arthur J. Barney.

condition of the town w^as such that
in times of war the men could be ill
spared. Many of the cosey little
homesteads, to be seen
in a short drive into the
'"-. country from the village,
have been the scene of a
bitter struggle for exist-
ence. Many were the
days of incessant toil
spent by trusting and pa-
tient mothers amid their
scanty surroundings,
while their husbands were
absent in the service of
their countr5^

The following interest-
ing sketch of the old style

CANAAN.

of living was found by the
writer in an attic of ancient
date: "The early inhabitants
dwelt in houses made of logs,
and ordinarily consisted of
only one room ; moss was
used instead of mud for fill-
ing. A large fireplace was
built, in which the logs were
placed, and it was around
this rustic hearth that the
famil}^ would gather. Stoves,
lamps, elegant dishes, or an}^
of the household articles that
in latter years would be called neces-
saries, were not then in use. The
food was not as fine and unhealthy

■^

Albert E. Barney.

as that which comes from the modern
cuisine. The beans, potatoes, and
brown bread were served on wooden
trenchers. The food was simple but
well cooked, and fruit and delicacies
were unknown."

Among other things of historical
interest worthy of note, is the death

The Barney Block.

of Jonathan Dustin, which occurred
July 4, 1812. Mr. Dustin had been
for many years an honored citizen.
He was a grandson of the intrepid
Hannah Dustin. Dustin 's age was
93, which is no exception to the
longevity of Canaan's first settlers.

But the Canaan of to-day : Topo-
graphically, the town is divided into
four districts, including West Canaan,
Factory Village, Canaan Street, and
the village proper, or East Canaan, as

Ernest A. Barney.

CANAAN.

Hon. Frank D. Currier.

it was formerly called. The village
is located in the southeast part of
the town, on the intervales of Indian
river. The Northern railroad passes
through here, and furnishes employ-
ment for a large number of the labor-
ing class. This flourishing little vil-
lage easily ranks as one of the most
attractive in the state. The streets
are broad and admirably laid out,
forming a square in the centre which
contains a fountain and watering-tub ;
these were purchased through the
munificence of the citizens in 1892.
Around this square the leading
stores are grouped, forming a very
compact business section for a
country town.

An exquisite view of Mt. Car-
digan can be obtained from the
square, looking down Mechanic
street, five miles to the eastward.
Cardigan lies in the romantic lit-
tle town of Orange, and is a cen-
tre of attraction for summer so-
journers at the village. Dur-

ing the summer months great num-
bers take advantage of every clear
daj^.to ascend the mountain and en-
jo}^ the unrivaled scenery of the sur-
rounding country. Kearsarge, As-
cutne}^ Moosilauke, Monadnock, and
the Green and White mountains are
visible from its top, thus rendering
the prospect varied, extensive, and
grand.

Five miles out of the village, on
the Enfield road, stands the little
cluster of houses known as West
Canaan. This little hamlet pos-
sesses the usual characteristics of
the average country town. It boasts
of a store, post-office, and a sprink-
ling of dwelling-houses. A large
number of the people find employ-
ment on the railroad ; the remainder,
for the most part, are well-to-do far-
mers.

A stage from lyockehaven meets the
noon train, and people from Spring-
field, Enfield Centre, and other sur-
rounding points, take the train at
this station, which imparts a busi-
nesslike appearance to the place, at
train time at least.

While other towns boast of their
electric lights, superb sidewalks,
theatres, and up-to-date ideas, the

Residence of Hon. Frank D. Currier.

CANAAN.

#:^-

>v..

Residence of Dr. E. M. TucKer.

statel)^ old Street is proud of her
shaded walks, summer residences,
and her prestige among the people
of leisure. It is a broad and shaded
street, extending nearly a mile along
the west shore of Crystal lake. From
June to October it is resplendent with
summer gaiety. The Street really
takes precedence in point of situation
for summer residences, and in many
ways rivals far-famed Bethlehem.

From the Street, the country to the
westward is a series of valleys and
low hills till the Green mountains in
Vermont rear their wooded crests as
a barrier to further obser\'ation in
that direction. To the east, the mir-
ror-like bosom of Crystal lake lies ex-
panded, reflecting the rising sun, as
it appears over Mt. Cardigan, into
every cottage. This lake is a beau-
tiful sheet of water, and was origi-
nally called Hart's pond from its
figure. It possesses a natural curi-
osity in the mound or bank of earth
which surrounds it. * It is from four
to five feet high, and from its regular
construction would seem to be the
work of art. Annual observations,
however, have proved it to be pro-
duced by the drifting ice when break-
ing up in the spring.

The people take pardonable pride
in speaking of the Street as one of
the best exemplars of the summer
resort industry within the confines of
the Granite state. With a charm
peculiarly its own, it offers varied at-
tractions to summer visitors in search
of rest and quiet.

Hundreds of metropolitan guests
annually wend their weary waj- to
"Canaan's Happy Land" to enjoy
the balmy breezes and sylvan shade
of the "land flowing with milk and
honey." These city visitors, who
include many people of wealth and
influence, are an exception to the
general rule applying to the larger
and more frequented resorts, and are
not of the cosmopolitan class ; but
many own cottages, while others
have returned regularly each year till
their familiar countenances have be-
come to be thought of as a part of the
community.

Immense monetary benefits are
realized by the citizens as a result of

Dr. Edward M. Tucker.

CANAAN.

H. B. Tenney.

the annual visitation of these summer
people. But the good effects from
their presence can hardly be said to
end here ; the society of such people
as Judge Blodgett and family of Bos-
ton, Burns Wallace and wife of New
York city, O. H. Perry and family of
lyOwell, and hundreds of other distin-
guished people of culture, is refresh-
ing, and gives the citizens some idea
of the conventionalities of city life,
tending to elevate the scale of moral
development.

As the seasons come
and go with their notice-
able changes, few are
more perceptible to the
annual visitor at the
Street than the improve-
ments which are taking
place each year in the
hotel service. One of the
more recent improve-
ments was the remodel-
ing of the old Crystal
Ivake House. It has

been newly furnished throughout, and
will in the future endeavor to win re-
nown under the significant name of
The Grand View, which feat will not
be difficult to accomplish, for in one
short season, under the efficient man-
agement of its genial proprietor, A. R.
Wilkinson, it has established an en-
viable reputation as a modern hotel.
As a pioneer in the hotel industry,
H. B. Tenney of the Sunset deserves
more than passing mention. Em-
barking in the enterprise nearly a
quarter of a century ago, when the
summer business was practically in
its infancy in this town, he was one
of the first to make a success of min-
istering to the wants of summer
boarders. From an unostentatious
beginning of three or four guests, he
has advanced until the fame of the
Sunset has been established. While
not being as capacious as some, the
Sunset House has many desirable
features for the entertainment of its
patrons. The lover of nature can
appreciate the broad piazza around
the western wing, where he can take
leave of all solicitude and enjoy with-
out restraint the picturesque pano-
rama of the extensive landscape at
sunset. And the lover of amusement
may avail himself of the tennis court,

'The Sunset" — H. B. Tenney.

CANAAN.

" The Grand View."

croquet grounds, ball diamond, etc.
Other hotels that have done much
to develop the town in this line of
industry are the L,ucerne, Pinnacle
House, Fairview, and Jerusalem
Spring House.

The leading industry is agricul-
ture. There is no discordant clang
of machinery to disturb the tran-
quility or rupture the harmonious
strains of nature.

Man}^ 5'ears ago there came to
Canaan a family by the name of
Davis. The three boys, George,
Alvin, and Charles, were educated
in their early youth into the prac-
tical side of farming. They are
recognized as foremost in the town
in agricultural pursuits, and are
among the few who seem to make
farming pay. George owns the
large intervale farm on the Enfield
road at Pillsbury's crossing, and has
long been known for his good judg-
ment and enterprise in farming. His
residence comprises, without doubt,
the finest set of farm buildings in
the town. Quite a village has .sprung
up on Mr. Davis's premises. A small
store was run by his son, A. L.
Davis, till 1892, when he gave it
up to enter the employment of the
Swift Beef Co., of Chicago. The

store was again opened the
next year by F. A. Trum-
bull. Aside from the home-
stead, store, and other out-
buildings, Mr. Davis has
accumulated much valua-
ble property.

Alvin owns a large farm
on the Grafton road, and
cultivates an extensive fruit
orchard ; while Charles runs
a milk farm, half a mile out
of the village, on the stage
line to Rumney.

Milk raising proves a remunerative
industry among the farmers. About
one hundred cans of milk per day
are shipped at the village for H. P.
Hood «& Son, of Derry. Many of the
farmers stock their hillside pastures
with cows, and find more profit in
disposing of their milk at the car
than in dairying.

The only manufacturing concerns
worthy of note are the Mascoma
Overall company and Gardner's shoe

A. R. Wilkinson.

CANAAN.

'^^fc'.*r^,ij.-^i*7 y ./.?

R. F. Heffenreffer's Summer Residence,

shop, at the Village. The Mascoma
Overall company was established sev-
eral years ago by Barney Brothers.
They run fifteen machines of the lat-
est and most approved pattern, and
turn out a grade of overalls well
known to the laboring class through-
out New Hampshire for their wear-
ing qualities. The shoe shop is a
comparatively new enterprise in the
place. Mr. Gardner moved his busi-
ness from Lockehaven last fall, and
set up in the Bucklin block, and, con-
sidering the adverse circumstances,
has made a creditable beginning.
For a number of years the making
of strawboard at Factory Village was
an important industry, but since the
burning of the mill, in
1890, the business has
been discontinued.

The town is well
represented in journal-
ism by the Canaan Re-
porter and Mascoma
Register. The papers
were established by
C. O. Barney, the
present proprietor, in
1866, under whose able
management they have
continued ever since.
They are stanch ex-
ponents of Republican

principles, and embodj^
the special features of the
average country weekly,
endearing them to every
household in the com-
munity. Mr. Barney is a
man of more than ordi-
nary push and enter-
prise ; and the public
spirit which has char-
acterized his lifelong res-
idence here, has been ex-
emplified by example, and by ad-
vocating every public movement be-
lieved by him to be conducive to the
welfare of the people. It has been
said that the Rcpo7-ter' s advanced
ideas have much to do with the vil-
lage's up-to-date customs.

The Crystal Lake Water company
put in a system of water- works in the
fall of 1891 . The water is taken from
Crystal lake, one mile distant, and
has over one hundred feet head. At
a recent meeting of the stockholders
it was voted to extend the service so
as to embrace the whole village pre-
cinct.

A milk wagon and ice cart are run
daily through the Village by F. B.

'The Fairview " — George W. Muzzey.

CANAAN.

O. H. Perry's Summer Residence.

Smart, while the lovers of fresh vege-
tables and garden truck have their
wants met b}' a delivery wagon from
the farm of Hutchins Shaw..

When the electric light plant,
which has been agitated from time to
time, shall materialize, electric cars
to the Street will be one of the future
possibilities.

What Homer said of Ithaca might,
in many respects, be aptly applied
to Canaan, as being "the nursing
mother of eminent men." As a lead-
ing citizen and town father, the fa-
miliar name of George W. Murray,
Esq., takes a front rank.
Mr. Murray was born in
Canaan, early in the thir-
ties, on a small farm, and
a poor boy ; but his am-
bition led him onward
and upward, till to-day
his estate, including two
of the finest residences
in town and much other
valuable property, reaches
far into the thousands.
He obtained the greater
part of his education
through his own instru-
mentalities, and a review

of his brilliant career, both
in the legal profession and
private life, furnishes a
striking illustration of the
self-made man.

Among other prominent
citizens, Hon. F. D. Cur-
rier, the town's most illus-
trious son in public cir-
cles, is worthy of special
mention. His palatial
home, at the corner of
Main and School streets,
is a principal attraction
to the visitor when coming
up Main street from the passenger
station. Mr. Currier is also a native
of the town, and, although a young
man, has occupied many important
positions of public trust, and is to-
da}' one of the best known young
men in the Republican party in New
Hampshire.

The medical fraternity has an able
representative in town in the person
of Dr. Edward M. Tucker. Mr.
Tucker was a surgeon in the late re-
bellion, and, at the close of the war,
settled here and began the practice of
medicine, winning a favorable repu-

Residence of Mrs. W. A. Wallace.

CANAAN.

Residence of Frank P. Howe.

tation as a successful practitioner,
and a distinguished citizen as well.
Dr. Tucker's residence is on the site
of the old " Worth" tavern of stage
times. He is a member of the board
of health ; has been chairman of the
school-board ; and is very much inter-
ested in fraternal organizations, being
a Mason and Odd Fellow, also promi-
nent in the G. A. R. and Sons of
Temperance, and the oldest Knight
of Pythias in New Hampshire and
probably in New England.

Barney Brothers and M. H. Milton
are the oldest concerns in the mer-
cantile line. Their places of business
are located at the Village, and they
carry in stock the usual variety to be
found in a country store. The firm
of Barney Brothers was run for many
years by their father, Eleazer Bar-
ney, and the boys grew up in the
business, as it were. This practical
training, besides the inheritance of
their father's talent, has made them
very successful.

The town has its quota of fraternal
organizations. Mt. Cardigan lodge.
Knights of Pythias, has nearly one

hundred members, including many
from Enfield and Lebanon ; Indian
River grange, Patrons of Husbandry,
has a large support among the far-
mers. Although the Odd Fellows
and Masons have no lodges here, the
orders are well represented among
the citizens.

In educational matters, Canaan
shows considerable advancement.
Much attention was paid ,by the
first settlers to schools. They con-
sidered the advantages of schooling
the dcciis ct gloria patriae. In 1839
Canaan Union academy was founded,
and located at the Street. For many
years, with favorable location, excel-
lent advantages, and competent board
of instruction, it was second to no in-
stitution of its kind in this part of the
state. Recently the village formed a
precinct, placing educational matters
under its own management. A sys-
tem of graded schools has been insti-
tuted, and a corps of efficient instruc-
tors engaged. The board of education
consists of "George W. Murray, Frank
D. Currier, and George H. Gordon,
with Ella M. Richardson, treasurer.

In view of Canaan's many advan-
tages in wealth and prosperity, it does
not seem improper that its people take
the pride which they do in the town.

"Sunny Side" — Mrs. Chestina Wooster.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT, NEW HAMP-
SHIRE VOLUNTEERS.

By Adjutant Luther Tracy Townsend.

CHAPTER III.
DEPARTURE.

HE intensest sufferings of
the war were not on the
field of battle, but in the
home circle ; not amid
the rattle of musketry
and boom of cannon, but in noise-
less heart throbs, when the gray-
haired father, with choking voice
said to his son, "Go, my precious
boy, and God bless you" ; when the
devoted mother prayed and wept all
night long after her son's enlistment;
and when, amid farewell words, and
during the months that followed,
wives, and young women who had
pledged their affections to their lov-
ers, suffered the agony of many
deaths. These were the most dis-
tressing experiences of the entire
war, in consequence of which there
sank into the grave prematurely a
whole generation of those who saw
no field of battle, who heard no
report of musket or cannon, but
who remained, in tears, with aching
hearts and sleepless, nights, among
the quiet hills of the Granite state.

The latter part of the week begin-
ning November 15 was a season of
increased activity among the mem-
bers of our regiment, for we had
received orders to be in readiness for
a move on short notice. It was not
expected, however, that we should

break camp before Mondaj- or Tues-
day of the week following ; but
late on Saturday, the order came
that we were to take our departure
the next morning.

The colonel and other Christian
officers of the regiment had pleaded
with Governor Berry not to require
us to make our first move on Sunday.
He did, perhaps, all in his power to
comply with our request, but the rail-
way and steamboat arrangements had
been made, and the orders from the
United States officers were impera-
tive.

We may also note that several of
our men, who had been furloughed
from Saturday until Monday, were at
the railroad station or were already
on their way home when the order
reached our camp. But a notifica-
tion at the station or a telegram to
those who had gone was all that was
necessary ; their furloughs did not
keep them for an hour from their
places in the regiment.

Saturday night was cold, and there
was a storm of sleet and snow that
lasted till near morning. It was clear
by sunrise, however, and at about
eight o'clock on Sunday morning,
November 23, in a frosty atmosphere,
but under as brilliant a New Eng-
land sky as one could wish to see,

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

the Sixteenth marched in four ranks
through the main street of Concord.
At the railway station were friends
from different sections of the state
who had come to see us off.

The ranks were broken for a few
minutes, and friend clasped the hand
of friend, and hopes were mingled
with sad apprehensions. The words
of affection and admonition, and the
farewells then spoken, still linger in
the memory of the few who survive
to recall them.

A little later a train of twenty cars
moved slowly away with its freight of
almost a thousand loyal hearts, near-
ly half of whom, in life and health,
were never again to see their native
state. The mental and heart anguish
of that morning, in its fulness, was
known only to God, and into his ears
on that day, from its earliest morning
hour to the hour that brought the
da)^ to its close, was poured a vol-
ume of prayer such as only bur-
dened, devout, and loving hearts ean
offer.

The ride during the day was with-
out anything of special interest or
worthy of note, except that in passing
through towns and cities our boys
were cheered and signalled by the
people with handkerchiefs and the
waving of hands. Such responses
were returned as are customary un-
der like circumstances, though, if
the truth were known, many in the
regiment were less demonstrative
than they would have been on some
other day of the week.

And yet, we have to confess that
on that day there was evidence that
we were not all as pious or as strict
Sabbath observers as we might have
been. For, during the day, one of
our men captured a well-bred spaniel

dog at one of the railway stations and
carried him on to New York. The
owner followed on the next train and
entered complaint. After proving
property, the dog was restored and
the forager was severel}' reprimanded
by the colonel for laying in commis-
sary stores on Sunday and before we
were out of Puritan New England.

Our route was over the Nashua
and Worcester railway to^ Allyn's
Point, where, between six and seven
o'clock in the evening, the regiment
left the train and embarked on the
steamer City of Dosto)i. The sail on
lyong Island Sound during the night
was not an unpleasant one, but there
were many heavy hearts, for our men
were beginning to realize, some of
them keenly, that every hour in-
creased the distance between them
and scenes and faces the dearest of
any on earth.

Not far from four o'clock in the
morning, November 24, we reached
the dock in East river, New York.
A biting northwest wind told us
plainly enough that we were not yet
in the sutmy south, and we felt that
we had not taken with us the com-
forts of our New England home life.

We were cared for during the early
part of the day at the Park barracks,
and at four o'clock in the afternoon
were ordered to pitch our tents in
Battery park. The weather a part
of the time during our encampment
there was piercing cold, and our
cloth tents afforded a protection not
the best, as one easily can imagine.
Our stay in the city of New York,
however, was not altogether devoid
of comfort and interest. Our regi-
ment was much praised by the people
of the city, both on account of the
excellent soldiery bearing of the men

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

and more especialh' for their uniform
good behavior. Sometimes the boys
complained, but not without reason,
of accommodations and especially of
rations, though on the whole the
complaints were fewer than might
have been expected. The most pro-
nounced expressions of dissatisfac-
tion were on Thanksgiving day, No-
vember 27. Indeed, it seemed for a
while that downright and indignant
protests would end in open revolt.
The meat was miserable in quality
and poorly cooked. The bread was
heav}^ and sour, and some of our
men, who had known from earliest
childhood what a Thanksgiving day's
dinner meant in New England, de-
clared in no suppressed tones that
they would make a "nigger" and
Irish soup of the cooks if another
such dinner was served.

The cooks, perhaps, were not alto-
gether to blame. The mercenary
contractors to whom had been let out
the provisioning of the regiment,
and whose sole or paramount object
seems to have been to make as much
money as they could out of their con-

tracts, were blameworthy and ought
to have been imprisoned and put
on to the miserable fare the}^ were
serving to us. The yeomanry of
New Hampshire can appreciate good
usage as well as other men, and can
endure bravely hardships that are in-
evitable, but they resent everything
like imposition or ill usage, and
never hesitate to give expression to
such resentment.

Saturday, November 29, was for
the regiment a gala daj*. The sons
of New Hampshire residing in New
York city, gave us what was called
a Thanksgiving dinner. In the way
of food supplies it was all that the
name implies. It concluded, as such
occasions usually do, with a round
of laudatory and patriotic speech-
making.

We may add that more than once
during our stay in New York fruit
and provisions of various kinds were
sent to our encampment in quantity
by gentlemen who had gone from
New Hampshire to New York city,
and who were kindly disposed and
naturally interested in our welfare.

CHAPTER IV.

SEA VOYAGE.

ceniber 4, orders were
received to embark on
the steamer, Eastn'n
Qiieen. The regiment
was in readiness to obey the order.
Then followed counter orders. On
Tuesday we again were notified to
march to the Easter )i Oucoi, and our
tents were struck. Then the order
was for the second time counter-
manded. But on Thursday, Decem-

ber 6, early in the morning, in the
midst of a snow squall, our regiment
really was on the way to the steamer.
Seven companies, counting from the
left, embarked, and, except for the
emphatic protest of our ofUcers, the
other three companies and a New
York battery besides would have
been crowded on to a small, unsea-
worthy, side- wheel steamer, of only
700 tons register, which, even with
a much smaller freight, was in no

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT

way fit for such a voyage as was
before us.

Frida}^ December 7, 1862, at three
o'clock in the afternoon, our steamer
weighed anchor, and slowly sailed,
as we supposed, for our destination.
But when about four miles from her
last anchorage, much to the surprise
of all and the annoyance of some, she
was slowed down and stopped, and
the anchor was cast into the sea. To
all our questions put to the officers of
the steamer, no satisfactory explana-
tion was given. The regimental
ofiicers supposed, however, that her
captain was following secret orders.
But we had reason afterwards to
suppose that the sailors' superstitious
dread of beginning a voyage on Fri-
day had taken possession of our cap-
tain, and had led him to def}^ the
explicit orders that had been given,
and, in utter disregard of any disas-
trous consequences that might result,
he took the matter of sailing into his
own hands, and anchored until day-
light the next morning.

The first day out was one of inter-
est to some of our men who never
before had been on the broad Atlan-
tic, whose lives, rather, had been
passed among the peaceful and beau-
tiful landscapes of New England.
From the squalls of the night be-
fore, the Jersey coast was covered
with patches of snow, that to us were
not an unfamiliar sight ; and during
the day we encountered several snow
squalls, as if Winter was not to part
company with her Granite State boys
without giving them, as reminders, a
parting salute or two.

By afternoon and evening of this
first daj^ out, seasickness became an
epidemic. Poor seasick and home-
sick wretches ! Thoughts of the fire-

side circle, of food prepared by the
hands of wives and mothers, the
charm of the dining-room table, and
all such visions floated before our
minds, only to increase our misery.
Nor is it to be wondered that many
of us felt during that day and night
that we were the most guilty crim-
inals on land or sea, and desen^ed
severe punishment for ever having
complained of anything in our home
life, and that we had been fools and
idiots for enlisting in the army, even
to save the Union !

Seven o'clock, Sunday morning, the
sealed orders were broken. There
had been many speculations as to the
destination of our regiment. Almost
every place on the vSouthern seaboard
had been mentioned, but the orders
w6re that the steamer should proceed
direct to Ship Island, at the mouth
of the Mississippi river, unless it be-
came jiecessary to re-coal at Tortu-
gas. We thus were being taken to
a much greater distance from home
than had been expected when the
assignment of our regiment was made
to the Banks expedition. This news
added a fresh gloom to the already
accumulated woes of our boys. Sun-
day and Sunday night were as dis-
mal as cold, biting winds, rolling and
heavy seas, downright sea.sickness,
and homesickness, could make them.

On waking Monday morning, it
was discovered that the sun was ris-
ing on the starboard side of the
steamer, instead of on the port, where
it should be shining if we were sail-
ing south. It was evident, therefore,
that the course had been changed
during the night. lixplanations fol-
lowed, and we learned that, in the
heavy seas of the night before, the
boat had sprung a leak ; and during

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

the early morning the report was
circulated that she was filling three
times as fast as she could be pumped,
and that the water already was nearly
up to the furnace fires. These re-
ports proved to be yarns. But that
the steamer was disabled was evi-
dent enough, for she listed badly,
and labored heavily and perilously
amidst those stormy and rough seas
that were breaking upon and over
her. The facts were, that the strain
had loosened the planking, above the
water-line, fortunately, and at ten
o'clock the night before the sheath-
ing of the guards of the paddle-wheel
and some of the paddles on the star-
board side had been smashed into
fine kindling, and the steamer was
in great danger of having the wheel
twisted on the shaft to such extent
as to prevent its revolution, or else
broken completely, and we should
then be left helpless and at the mercy
of the stormy Atlantic. In this con-
dition the steamer had been headed
for Fortress Monroe, about forty
miles north of the point she had
reached the night before.

At half past ten o'clock Monday
morning, December 8, we cast
anchor near Fortress Monroe and
repairs were begun. This was a
brief respite from seasickness. No
one of the regiment, however, was
allowed to go on shore or to speak to
any persons who came near in boats,
or even to send letters or telegrams to
anxious ones at home. The destina-
tion of the Banks expedition was to
be kept a profound secret. And yet,
some of the ship's crew who went on
shore for help and materials for re-
pairs, reported that our destination
was well known at Fortress Monroe.
This, we presume, is a specimen of

the wa}^ army secrets at that time
were kept. Anything known in the
city of Washington was said to be
known almost the same day in the
city of Richmond.

The dread of putting to sea again
was keenly felt by most of our men,
and not a few declared the}^ would
gladly face death on the field of
battle or anywhere else, but could
not again endure seasickness. "I
would give," said a poor fellow,
while looking wistfully at the beach,
" a month's pay for a handful of that
sand to carry along with me."

Late in the afternoon of Monday,
December 15, the repairs were com-
pleted, and the miserably unfit craft
weighed anchor and headed out to
sea again.

On the way down the bay we met
the steam transports Robert Morris
and John A. IVarroi, loaded with
troops coming into port, for what
reason we did not know, and as our
exceptionally fine band played its
greeting to these comrades, cheer
after cheer in acknowledgment rose
from about three thousand throats,
echoing far over the waters of the
beautiful Chesapeake bay.

The next few days were pleasant,
with a constantl}' rising temperature
and a comparativel)' smooth sea.

As the boys under these favorable
conditions began to improve in
health, they also became more and
more pugnacious. As a result, there
were two rebellions on the same da3%
December 10. The finst was a deter-
mination on the part of several of
the men to resist the general order
to have all the soldiers vaccinated.
Some of the men who did not believe
in vaccination said they would be
shot first. After a while this insub-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

ordination, through the persuasion
of the regimental officers, came to
an end. But later, a report being
circulated that the vaccine virus was
not pure, some of the men actually
cut and dug it out of their arms
with their jack-knives after the sur-
geons had done their work.

The second mutiny was in conse-
quence of the rations issued. For
dinner of that day the men were
served with pork and bread. For
supper there was doled out to
them a half dipper of coffee, four
spoonfuls of half boiled rice, and
a tablespoonful of molasses. Think
of that kind of fare for sick, also
for convalescent and well men !
Some of the boys almost swore that
they would make an attack on the
ship's stores unless they were better
served. This rebellion was so pro-
nounced that the officers of the boat,
who seemingly were trying to make
a handsome thing out of their con-
tract to supply the men, became
alarmed and asked for a guard to
defend the stores against an attack.
After this mutinous demonstration
the boat attempted no further im-
position and nonsense of any sort
during the rest of the voyage.

The sense of justice in the men,
however, had become so outraged
that they did what more honest men
would not have done ; that is, though
the ship's stores were under guard, a
barrel of extra fine syrup somehow
was on tap and was used freely dur-
ing the voyage. Three or four of the
men found the fresh meat locker and
discovered a way into it, tipped the
cooks of the boat who, on a single
day, cooked for the boys an entire
hind quarter of fresh beef.

And this was not all. One of the

boys of Compan}' H, feeling that the
sutler was taking advantage in over
charging for tobacco, which, how-
ever, was probably not the case,
when the doctrine of chances and
risks is taken into account, removed
the hinges of one of the chests of the
sutler, and filled his boot-legs with
plugs of navy tobacco ; and after that
every man, including the guards, who
wanted a chew, had one.

It was during these days that the
boys of Company K, who largely
were from Portsmouth, being, there-
fore, somewhat familiar with sea sail-
ing and life, and with the 3'arns of
sailors, were merciless enough to tell
the farmer boys and others from the in-
terior of the state the most harrowing
stories of shipwrecks, of boats spring-
ing leaks, of tempests. West India
tornadoes, and other perils and prog-
nostications that had some grain of
truth, biit were told out of pure mis-
chievousness. Those men of Com-
pany K deserved severe reprimand,
but, so far as we recollect, they never
received it.

At eight o'clock, Saturday morn-
ing, December 14, we passed Cape
Sable, the extreme point of Florida,
to the south, and a few hours later
saw the wreck of the Marioji Sanford,
one of our fleet of boats bound, as we
were, to Ship Island. She had struck
on the reef of San Key, and was well
out of water. At the time we passed,
the wreckers were stripping her of
whatever of value could be taken.
We afterward learned that the troops
that sailed on her, including the Fif-
teenth New Hampshire regiment,
were taken off in safety and for-
warded by other transports. There
is always a kind of "mute eloquence"
in a wreck like this, and the sight of

HISTORY OF THE SI XT HE NTH REGIMENT.

the Sanford did not tend to calm our
fears, and certainly did not inspire
confidence that we ourselves were
out of danger, though we were in
the Gulf of Mexico.

Sunda3^ December 14, aljout ten
o'clock in the forenoon, we were
piloted through a serpentine passage
to Fort Jefferson, on Dry Tortugas,
a coral island, not far from the Flor-
ida coast, and used during the war
as a station for furnishing supplies
of coal and naval stores to the Gulf
squadron. A vast amount of money
had been appropriated by Southern
members of congress to make this
place impregnable, though when we
were there everything had the ap-
pearance of incompleteness, except
the climate ; that seemed marvelously
perfect. It was like summer. The
shade-trees, cocoa, date palm, castor-
oil, and other trees and plants, were
in their leafage and fruitage. This
was a new experience for most of us,
and we wondered at seeing summer
in the month of December. During
the day, our men were allowed on
shore, and not a few of them patron-
ized the sutler of that post, and
nearly cleaned him out. There were
some things not paid for, but "drawn,"
a mild term used in the army in the
place of the word stealing. This came
about, however, from a sense of New
England justice. The sutler was so
exorbitant in his prices that some of
the boys, only a few of them, how-
ever, thought they could even up a
little, and then he would make, as
they reckoned, at least 200 per cent,
profit on what he sold. Among other
property taken during this wicked
raid on the sutler was a huge cheese.
How the privates managed to secure
it was not generally reported, though

the cheese was generously distrib-
uted, and some of the officers were
remembered, even while protesting
against such acts of vandalism.

The steamer, having taken her sup-
ply of coal, which was put on board
by the wheelbarrow load, headed out
soon after daylight into the Gulf of
Mexico. The day, December 15, was
everything that could be desired ; the
water was smooth, the sea-gulls were
calling or scolding, the porpoises were
sporting, and the wdiales occasionally
were spouting. The night following
was the same in quietness as the day
had been ; and there were glowing
stars in the sky, and the surface of
the Gulf was luminous with phos-
phorescent auimalculae.

"All this is a weather breeder,"
said the Portsmouth boys. We of
the interior winked the left ej'e and
laughed ; the cry of wolf had been
heard too many times to alarm us
any more. But Tuesday morning
everything was ugly. We were in a
"norther" on the Gulf of Mexico.
The boat w^as headed towards the
storm, and for the first forty-eight
hours we made a distance of scarcely
a mile. For three days and nights
we were in wdiat the apostle Paul
would have called a howling eu-
roclydon. The waves several times
washed the decks and poured vol-
umes of water down the hatchways.
The sheathing was again torn from
the guards, the boat listed, and we
were, for a second time, in imminent
danger of being swamped ; and there
is every reason to suppose we should
have been, had the boat been loaded
as w'as first proposed. It was during
these tumultuous hours that the cap-
tain called upon the men to keep the
boat trimmed. They were ordered

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

first one side, then tlie other. After
a while they became wear}^ of this
business and did not respond with
becoming alacrity to the captain's
orders, whereupon he quite aston-
ished them by shouting, "Well, go
to hell, then, if you want to; I have
as many friends there as you have."

Thursday night the "norther"
had spent its fur}^ and nine o'clock
Friday morning (fortunate day!) a
low strip of land was discovered,
which proved to be Ship Island, near
which we anchored not far from the
noon hour of the same day. We had
made, as an average, but five knots
an hour in the entire distance of five
hundred miles from Tortvigas to Ship
Island.

Here was our expected destina-
tion, and we were soon in readiness
to land. But, a little later, orders
were received to sail to New Orleans.
As our stores of coal were nearly ex-
hausted, the steamer took on fresh
supplies, and in consequence did not
leave Ship Island until evening.

The next morning, having taken
on board during the night both har-
bor and river pilots, we were over the
bar and sailing up the river. The
lower Mississippi is impressively un-
interesting, the shores on either side
are low and boggy, but the day will
come when these lands, raised by
yearly overflows, will be among the
most fertile in the world.

Soon the flags of Fort Jackson and
Fort St. Philip, on opposite sides of
the river, came in view. A gun
from Fort Jackson brought us to,
and a boat came alongside to receive
our report. These forts are the key
to New Orleans, and are the scene
of Farragut's jjrilliant naval fight,
the recollection of which was an in-

spiration to VIS, and it was a comfort
to feel that the grand old commander
was on the river above us. The
partly water-covered wreck of the
federal gunboat Verona received our
cheers and rightly so, for after hav-
ing sunk several Confederate boats
she was run ashore in a disabled con-
dition, though still flying the stars
and stripes, firing her last gun just
as her deck sank below the water.
A little further up the river the
smoke-stack and framework of the
wrecked Confederate steamboat. Gov-
ernor Moore, were passed. We did
not sneer or hiss, but had respect for
the courage displayed during that
celebrated fight by her officers and
men. As it seems to us, the silenc-
ing of those forts and the destruction
of the Confederate fleet, the capture
of New Orleans by Farragut, and the
subsequent complete subjugation of
that city by General Butler were
among the most brilliant achieve-
ments either by land or sea, of the
entire War of the Rebellion.

As we continued our course up the
river the scenes became more and
more interesting, at least more and
more novel to our men. The soft
Southern sky, the mild temperature,
the rich plantations with their orange
and lemon groves laden with fruit,
the fragrance of which filled the air,
were all in such contrast with the
distressing experiences of the voy-
age, the seasickness, and the ten
hundred and one bad odors of the
steamer, that some of our boys
thought we were not far from the
gateway of Paradise.

Within sight of the lights of the
city of New Orleans, after a daj^
packed with interest, December 19,
the anchor of the Eastern Otieen was

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

cast for the night. Not a few of the
men from Merrimack county ever
will forget the emotions that came to
them as their eyes rested upon the
large steamer Kcarsarge anchored
near b}^ some of whose timbers were
said to have been cut on the moun-
tain bearing that name, under whose
shadow these men had passed their
boyhood and young manhood.

As we stood on the deck of our
steamer and looked upon the city of
New Orleans, the thoughts that most
vividly came to mind were of the
brilliant fight, just below the city,
between General Jackson and Sir
Edward Packenham, in the War of
181 2, and also of the fights in which
we expected to be engaged, within
how few days we did not know.

In that fight under Jackson the
metal of the American soldier shows
to such advantage that we shall be
pardoned for pausing in our narra-
tive long enough to recall a few of
the leading facts of that famous bat-
tle.

General (Sir Kdward) Packenham
was in possession of the river and
the territory just below New Orleans.
He had under his command 12,000
veteran soldiers and 4,000 well trained
marines and sailors. To meet this
force General Jackson had but 5,000
troops, only 1,000 of whom were reg-
ulars. With the exception of this
1,000, his men were undisciplined,
having been brought together hur-
riedly from Tennessee, Mississippi,
and Louisiana. On the morning of
the fight, Januar}^ 8, 18 15, they were
posted behind a l^reastwork of cotton-
bags and earth, thrown up hastily on
learning of the enemj^'s approach.

It was early in the morning when
12,000 of those bronzed and thor-

oughly drilled British troops, fresh
from their recent victories in Spain,
where they had been led by Sir Ar-
thur Wellesley, afterwards Duke and
Lord Wellington, were seen advanc-
ing, "with solid step and measured
pace," against these raw recruits,
commanded by Jackson. "Their
compact and perfect squares, fault-
less in their alignment as on dress
parade, extending far away, right
and left, in columns of regiments,
their arms glistening in the sunlight,
and the scarlet of England, the green
of Erin, and the plaid of Scotland
commingling," were said by an eye-
witness to have been ' ' superbly mag-
nificent."

The Americans, being insufficiently
armed, some of them without uniform,
others from the penitentiary, released
on condition they would fight, were
ordered by Jackson to form in two
ranks ; the first rank was to do the
firing, and the second, the loading.
As the enemy drew near our lines
Jackson's men were perfectly cool;
the}' took deliberate aim ; each man
covered his man with his deadly mus-
ket, reserving his fire till the foe was
in easy range. The critical moment
came. The enemy was about to fire
and then charge. At that instant
the command, "Fire!" was given
by Jackson ; and when the smoke
cleared, the space in front of the
parapet and cotton bags was cov-
ered with heaps of the enenn-'s dead
and dying. The British leader,
Packenham, fell at the first fire, and
was carried from the field, niortall)'
wounded.

The troops were again rallied by
General Gibbs, and advanced, but he
was killed by tho.se deadly marksmen
from the West and South. The next

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

in command, General Keane, was
likewise killed.

A fourth general, Ivambert, then
took command, but, after several in-
effectual attempts to rally his men,
a retreat was ordered, and those
haughty battalions, that never be-
fore had met such disaster, and who
easily had conquered the famous
legions led by Soult on the Penin-
sula, now fled from these undrilled
Americans, and from the field which
they thought and said was to be a
highway for their triumphant march
upon the " boot}^ and beauty" of
New Orleans.

Two thousand of the British were
killed and wounded, according to the
historian, D. B. vScott, though Ed-
ward Eggleston gives the British
loss as 2,600, and the American loss
as only eight killed and thirteen
wounded.

Such was the famous Battle of
New Orleans. And they are the
descendants of the men who gained
this brilliant victory whom w'e were
then in Louisiana to meet on the
field of battle.

And what may be expected when
men from New England, the de-
scendants of the men who met the
flower of the British army under
General Gage at Concord, Eexing-
ton, and Bunker Hill, shall meet in
battle the sons of these men who
under General Jackson sent death
and defeat into the ranks of the best
soldiers in the world. It will be
Greek meeting Greek.

Returning to the narrative, we find,
on consulting our journal, that it was
nearly noon Saturday, the day fol-
lowing our arrival at New Orleans,
before we could get w^ord from the
authorities what disposition was to

be made of our regiment. No one
seemed to know who we were or
where we came from, or what to
do with us. At length an order
came to move up the river to Car-
rollton, a place about six miles
above New Orleans, and there select
a camp ground for ourselves. This
was done, and the colonel, quartermas-
ter, and adjutant, proceeded to obey
orders. The grounds were selected
and we were on the point of landing,
when the order that had been given
was countermanded, and we were
told to go up the river two miles
further to the Beauregard parapet,
which had been thrown up under
the direction of General Beauregard,
as a defense of New Orleans. This
was done, and there, in mid-after-
noon, we disembarked, all being
thoroughly glad once more to set
foot on what was supposed to be
solid ground, though several of our
men failed to understand what the
trouble was, and declared the whole
state of Louisiana when they walked
reeled like a drunken man, and that
when they stepped the ground rose
to meet their feet. The bad boys
of Company K, who were well
acquainted with "sea leg" expe-
riences, explained to those who
were not that Louisiana was formed
something like the so-called floating
islands of Mexico, and that the
waves of the Gulf were forced up
under the soil, causing the undula-
tions. This explanation, however,
carried no weight. Indeed, the boys
of Company K were no longer be-
lieved even when they told the truth.
We should be remiss if we did not
speak a word at this point in praise
of the aged government pilot who
navigated our unseaworthy craft from

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

New York to the mouth of the
Mississippi. He had but one eye,
yet he could see with that many
times as far as the most of us with
two. During bad weather he never
left the pilot-house, and while we
were in the "norther" on the Gulf

that faithful man was for seventy-five
hours without closing his eye, and he
stood at the wheel until his feet were
so swollen that neither boots nor
shoes could be worn. Dead or alive,
he has our thanks and this expres-
sion of our appreciation.

CHAPTER V.

CA^rP IJFR IN CARROI.LTON.

fECEMBER 20, about
three o'clock in the
afternoon, the boys be-
gan pitching their tents.
Fences and timbers
from deserted negro huts were bor-
rowed (?) for fuel and for tent floors.
Headquarters were provided in a de-
serted plantation house, surrounded
with shade and fruit trees.

The next daj^ December 2 1, was also
a bus}^ one, as we were arranging ev-
erything for comfort as far as possi-
ble, building cook-houses and setting
things to rights. Few realized that
it was Sunday until late in the after-
noon, when the regiment was called
together to listen to a sermon by the
chaplain, the first we had heard since
leaving Concord. The sermon was
appropriate and well received, as
were all the sermons of our scholarly
and thoughtful chaplain.

Here at Carrollton were flocks of
singing birds, fragrance of orange
and lemon trees, beautiful cultivated
and wild flowers, and green grass
plots instead of bare, leafless trees
and snow-drifts ; and yet more than
one in our regiment said, "Oh, for
the quiet of a New England Sab-
bath! " "But for us," as a writing
in our journal says, "there is to be
no Sabbath until New Ivngland is

reached again, and by man}- of us
New England has been seen for the
last time."

Here in Carrollton began our
death-roll. Eieut. Prescott Jones,
Company E, was the first to answer
the summons. He was a brave-
hearted and zealous soldier, greatly
beloved in his company and by all
in the regiment who had made his
acquaintance. He died January 11.
Here, too, at Carrollton we began
to breathe a poisoned atmosphere,
and our food for the most part was
poor in quality and poorl)^ cooked,
proving an irritant and poison to
some of the men, who, having keen
appetites after the sea voyage, over-
ate, notwithstanding the unfitness of
the rations issued. A Northern man
in a Southern climate, among these
swamps where the germs of fever and
ague, of dj'sentery, and the whole
bx'ood of malarial ills, poison the
air, should not only fear that he is
going to be sick, but should feel that
he is sick until acclimated. Our
men did not realize this, and our
Northern surgeons, who knew noth-
ing, or but little, of tropical and
swamp diseases, did not warn us,
or if they did in a general way, we
gave no heed to their admonitions.
Hence our men hourlv became vie-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

tims of various forms of disease.
Our muster-roll, December 31, shows
that one man in everj^ seven of our
regiment encamped at Carrollton was
on the sick list.

We now return to the three com-
panies, C, D, and F, that had been
left in New York, with Major Davis
in command.

On the same day that the other
companies sailed, these three were
removed to the Franklin Street bar-
racks, where the accommodations
were none too good, and the rations
very unsatisfactory. Two weeks
later these companies were ordered
to embark on the ocean steamship
Mississippi.

The orders reached Major Davis
in the early evening. The compa-
nies were quickly in readiness, and
the lighter, with the men on board,
was alongside the steamer at about
eleven o'clock at night. All the
gangways, however, were closed, the
winds were howling, and the ther-
mometer was at nearly zero. There
stood the shivering, homeless vaga-
bonds, for such they seemed, trying
at that nearly midnight hour to get
the attention of some officer on board
the Mississippi. Our men had been
ordered there, but the officers of the
ship knew nothing of any such or-
der, and had been notified that their
ship already had its full complement
of troops. The captain of the steam-
ship was merciful, however, and al-
lowed our men to go on board out of
the biting cold. The Forty-seventh
Massachusetts and the One Hundred
Seventy-fifth New York were already
in possession, and had availed them-

selves of the best accommodations
they could find, as most certainly,
under similar circumstances, we
should have done. Our men, bent
upon securing the next best, if they
could not have the first choice, took
possession of the saloon, but, as this
was contrary to the rules of the ship,
they were obliged to give up these
accommodations, and each man
bunked as best he could, and thus

passed the remainder of the night.
After that experience, however, which
was one of decided discomfort, ar-
rangements were made that proved
on the whole very satisfactory.

The voyage of the Mississippi was
almost continuously pleasant, there-
fore uneventful and without peril.
These three companies joined the
regiment, January i, 1863, amid
hearty cheers, together with other
friendly greetings and congratula-
tions such as befit a reunion of that
kind.

From that date to near the close
of January our camp life was a busy
one, but not particularly laborious.
Daily drills, frequent regimental re-
views and inspections, dress parades,
guard mounting, guard and picket
duties, and target practice occupied
the time, but we have to add that,
after a week or more, the days
dragged. Our men wanted to fight,
end the war, and return to their
homes.

January 3 there was a regimental
drill under the eyes of Gen. W. T.
Sherman. He complimented the
movements of the regiment in flat-
tering terms. Subsequently similar
compliments were paid us by Gen.
George I^. Andrews, in whose bri-
gade we served for a time.

January 23 we received what are

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

called "heavy marching orders," and
with the other troops of the brigade,
under Colonel Ingraham, marched a
few miles out on the famous shell
road to Lake Pontchartrain. This
active campaign was a short one, and
we returned to camp in early even-
ing, and were made almost wdld by
reports that the Mississippi river had
been opened, that Vicksburg and
Port Hudson had fallen. But later,
like many other camp rumors that
originate no one knows how or
where, this one was found to have
not the slightest foundation ; still it
had given us a bit of cheer, and we
continued to hope during the next
few days that there might be a grain
of truth in it, or that it might be a
prophecy of what was to happen.

Under date of January 25, the jour-
nal of the adjutant reads thus : "Our
men continue to sicken, and are des-
titute of proper hospital conveniences
and care. Our improvised hospital is
a commodious plantation house, but
as yet the sick have under them only
a rubber blanket and the bare floor,
with an army blanket for their cover-
ing. Each room in the hospital has
from eight to twelve patients. Col-
onel Pike and the ward master are
both down with fever. Lieutenant
Burnham, Lieutenant Wilkins, Cap-
tain Bosworth are also very sick,
and seventy or more of our men are
in the hospital." Frequently all our
surgeons w^ere sick and off duty, and
our regimental hospital was left in
care of the hospital steward. The
most seriously ill were sent to the
Marine, Charity, and St. James hos-
pitals in New Orleans, where they
were very well cared for. But it
should be borne in mind that sick-
ness, even in the best equipped and

best ordered hospitals of a "con-
quered rebel city," like New Orleans,
did not receive the attention be-
stowed in the hospitals further north,
and on the borders between the two
sections. Here in Louisiana there
were no gifts of flowers and delica-
cies from the women of the city ;
there was hate instead. There was
no careful nursing by patriotic and
devout women who were in the ser-
vice of the Christian commission and
other Northern charit}- organizations.
Doubtless many a man died in these
Southern hospitals who would have
lived had a few encouraging words at
a critical moment been spoken in his
ear, or had a little tender care been
bestowed. And, as already hinted,
it must be confessed that our North-
ern surgeons at the outset did not
know how to treat the forms of sick-
ness that prevailed in the South. We
shall also be pardoned for saying that
personally we received more valuable
hints in talks with the ' ' old colored
mammies," on matters of health and
hygiene, than from any and all other
sources.

It was during these daj^s that our
regiment and the brigade to which
we had been assigned were kept con-
stantly under marching orders to an-
swer an expected call from General
Weitzel, who was pressed at Berwick
Bay by a considerable force of the
enemy. But that splendid officer was
able to hold his ground without re-
inforcements.

The reason, up to this date, that
our regiment had not been ordered to
the front was, that the muskets with
which w^e were equipped were unfit
for use. Both Generals Sherman and
Emory had made to General Banks
essentially the same report, that " the

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT

Sixteenth New Hampshire Volun-
teers had the material for a better
regiment than ever stepped on lyou-
isiana soil from the North," but "they
ought not to go into active service
with the guns they now carry."

January 28 our regiment was or-
dered to move back to Carrollton,
and to encamp on the ground that
had been occupied by the Fifteenth
regiment of our own state, and that
regiment was ordered to take our
position at the parapet. All that
there seemed to be to this move was
an exchange of places. After begin-
ning to pitch our tents, the order
was countermanded, and another was
issued that we should move towards
the parapet one mile.

The day following, the men were
busy putting in order their tents,
preparing kindling-wood, and build-
ing cook-houses. Where they bor-
rowed their lumber w^as a mystery
then and is so still, but they knew.
They always had orders, on reaching
new camping grounds, not to destroy
or use any private property. But
the orders, strange as it may seem,
though passing through the adju-
tant's tent, did not usually reach the
men till all mischief had been done.

Occasionally the order would read,
' ' Only the top rail is to be taken
from the fences." Usually there
were five rails in a plantation fence.
After the top rail had been removed,
four were left. The fourth was then
the top one, and could be taken by
the next man. In this way the fence
lost the top rails until only the bot-
tom ones remained, and even these
sometimes were taken and sometimes
left, as circumstances and the needs
of the regiment seemed to require.

What sense was there, anyway, in

protecting a hickory rail fence be-
longing to a Confederate general,
when the comfort and health of our
men were imperilled ? We some-
times longed for a return of the da5^s
of General Butler, who decided that
everything needed, even slaves, were
contraband of war.

To those who were acquainted with
the men of our regiment, we hardly
need say that all those preliminary
thefts to which we have referred,
those at Concord, those on board
the steamer, and those at Tortugas,
were never approved by the officers
of the regiment or by the majority
of our men ; yet when we reached
the enemy's country, our officers
without exception had no conscien-
tious scruples as to foraging, and
under cover of international military
law the officers helped the boys
whenever they could, and were wil-
ling at. any time to share in their
plunder. And yet, from a poor and
destitute Southern family we never
knowingly allowed anything to be
taken.

The clemency shown the Confeder-
ates by General Banks gained noth-
ing for the Union cause, and his
policy before the campaign ended
was largely modified. International
law declares that an army, when in
a hostile country, may even save its
own commissary stores, and live on
what it can forage. This law seems
to have been better understood, or at
least better recognized by privates
than by some of the officers who com-
manded them. We are not able to
say how many cla.ssical scholars there
were in our regiment, but many of
the men, so far as foraging is con-
cerned, knew perfectly well how to
interpret and apply the saying of the

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

old Romans, ''Inter arma leges si-
lent'' — in time of war the laws are
silent [or take a recess].

It appeared during our encampment
at Carrollton that foraging was not
the only accomplishment of the men
of the Sixteenth. Indeed its members
could turn their hand to almost any-
thing in the mechanical arts. They
could build railways ; they could
take in pieces and put together loco-
motives. If an encampment con-
tinued in one place for several da5's,
there were those who built ovens and
baked fresh bread. Others set up
barber shops, and repaired watches.
In fact, as already said, we could do
anything and everything at the out-
set except to fight according to the
rules of war. All this civil business
could be begun and carried on within
five minutes after our tents were
pitched. We had in our regiment a
dentist, a gunsmith, and a cobbler,
who had with them their kits of tools
and were prepared on short notice to
engage in their several callings.

One easily can believe if the men
of our own and other New England
regiments were thrown into the ene-
my's territory and were told to shift
for themselves that in fewer than
ten days they would establish an
independent commonwealth. All
quartermasters, commissaries, and
sutlers could be dismissed and a full
equipped community speedily would
be organized. Better than this: give
the boys an easy chance and in less
than forty-eight hours' they would
have a slaughter-house, provision
and grocery stores in full operation,
fresh beef, veal, pork, poultry, eggs
and milk for sale, and the men
assigned for " light duty " would be
making butter and cheese.

An instance that is almost pathetic
in some of its details is illustrative of
what we are saying. The first private
to die at Carrollton was a member of
Company B. There was no coffin,
or box even, in which to bury him.
Nor was there any lumber except un-
planed fence boards. His comrades
could not endure the thought of an
interment without a cofl&n. Two
men of his company, who were car-
penters, borrowed a saw and ham-
mer of a negro, took in pieces a
black walnut wardrobe found in one
of the deserted houses, and made a
coffin that would have done no dis-
credit to any undertaker's warehouse
anywhere in the States, and in this
the dead private was decently interred.

February 2 was the date of our
first division drill under General
Emory, and certainly our regiment
in looks or movement was not infe-
lior to any other in the division.
Ours at that time was ranked among
the fighting regiments, and we were
in readiness for any move that might
be ordered.

While still encamped at Carroll-
ton our assistant surgeon, Sylvester
Campbell, was the second of our
commissioned officers to die. He
was a Christian gentleman in the
truest sense, and a skilled phj^sician.
His death was a great shock to those
of us who knew him best.

From this date on, deaths in our
regiment were of such frequent oc-
currence that we cannot take time to
enumerate them separately, but men-
tion of them will be made in the clos-
ing pages of our history. We make
an exception, however, in the case of
lyieut. George T. Wilds, of Company
K, who died April 20. A truer pa-
triot, a more faithful friend, and a

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

more devout Christian could not be
found in our regiment or any other.
His death cast a gloom over his en-
tire company and over all the officers
of the regiment.

As already suggested, this sort of
campaigning in which we were en-
gaged at Carrollton was not only un-
satisfactory, but demoralizing. De-
bilitated by the climate, and half
sick from poor food and exposure,
some of our men became despondent.
Others, tired of the merely mechani-
cal round of duties, began to think
too much. They saw imaginary per-
ils, greater, perhaps, than ever would
come to them on the field of battle.
Home and friends became idealized,
and in consequence homesickness
was on the increase. Unless soon
called into active service, the dan-
ger was that the courage of our men
would be less than when they left
home, and less than that of those
who had nothing comparatively at

stake, as we had. And it were bet-
ter, too, if our men had enlisted for
the war, for there were those, only a
few, who already' were counting .the
months and weeks that remained to
complete the time of their enlistment.

All the more were they thinking
these unpatriotic and unsoldierly
thoughts because nothing aggres-
sive was doing. The expressions
were freely indulged, that if we
were to move against the enemy at
all, it should be before the heat be-
came more oppressive, and before
death made any further inroads upon
our ranks.

Such were the closing days of our
encampment in this malarial region,
which, beginning in December, ex-
tended through the wet and disa-
greeable months of January and
Februar}'.

The accompanying sketch will aid
the reader in getting a clearer idea
of this encampment.

ZIG-ZAG- TRENCH '8 FEET WIDE.
FILLED WITH WATER; S E V E R. A u

TO A CHICKADEE.

There were occasional changes in the Mississippi was from ten to four-
the positions of the regiments, and teen feet above the ground of our
at times the Thirty-first Massachu- encampment. There was a liability
setts, the Fifty-third Massachusetts, during our stay there of a break
and the One Hundred Seventy-fifth in the levees which would have
New York were encamped near us. deluged the flats and made of them
As will be seen, we were surrounded boating rather than parade grounds,
by water, swamps, and low land. Contrabands were kept constantly
This low and w^et plain was ditched busy with their hand-barrows fight-
in every direction, and the surface of ing this dangerous enemy.

Note. — The author desires suggestions or corrections from any comrade of tlie Sixteenth or any other regiment.

[7V /'(' coiitiuiii'd.\

TO A CHICKADEE.

By Lisa A. Fletcher.

I list that bright and cheering strain
From yonder leafless tree.
And know that thou art here again,
My winsome chickadee.

Though winter be to thee unkind,
And chill and dark the days.
In thee the ice-bound streamlets find
Their summer voice of praise, "

As if were hid in thy soft breast
The mysteries of the snow,
Or dainty secrets none have guessed
Were siven thee to know.

O poet of the wind-swept fields
And meadows brown and sere,
Whose song such sweetness for us yields
Amid the winter drear,

Thy song is of the wind and snow.
And breathless winter gales.
Thy wee heart in its overflow
Of courage never fails.

Thou darling of the wintry woods,
And valleys sheeted white.
Bright cheerer of our darker moods,
Long speed thy song and flight !

AFTER MANY YEARS.

By Lou D. Steams.

HE raised her eyes from
the letter in her lap, —
such grave, beautiful
eyes, full of a half-wist-
ful, half-questioning
light, — and then she dropped them
again and again scanned the writ-
ten words.

There was no need to read them.
It seemed to her they had danced
almost incessantly before her eyes
since the letter came yesterday morn-
ing, and yet there was nothing re-
markable about them. The letter, or
note, for it was nothing more, con-
tained only a few words, — merely a
request that the writer might call.

It was no unusual request : nothing
to bring such a strange look to the
face of the woman who sat there,
with the glorious summer sunshine
about her, and the warm summer
breeze lifting lightly the soft, luxu-
riant hair from her brow and stirring
the rare old lace upon her gown.

She had received hundreds like it
before and would, perchance, receive
hundreds more in the years to come,
only — she had waited for this one for
ten long years ; had hoped for it, but
now it was here she shrank from it.

She glanced about the room with
its elegant belongings, and down at
her dress of softest shimmering silk,
and then she sighed, and her mind
went back to the years when she, a
small, slight girl, had known Earland
Ray.

It had been an easy matter for him
to win her love, and then, growing
weary of it, he had thrown it one
side, and one night, — how well she
remembered it, — he had come to her
and asked to be free.

She could feel even now the great
wave of pain that rushed over her as
she pushed back the curling hair
from her brow and looked into his
face to read the truth of what he
said, and even now she seemed al-
most again to hear his words, — the
deep, full voice with the note of im-
patience in it.

"I. mean what I say. Bird. It's
the only way and better for us both.
We should never be- content. You
are a mere child and / a man who
would better have a wife nearer my
own age than a child to pet and love."

Child was she ? Perchance she
might have been when he began, but
when he ended, her childhood had
ended, too, and she stood before him
a woman.

It seemed somehow to stun her.
She could not take it in, only tried in
a dazed way to realize that somehotv
her life had come to an end, and her
face, as she turned quietly away, was
as white as it would be when it bore
the stamp of death.

Mechanically she moved the books
and papers about on the stand beside
her and placed them, one by one, in
order, then she came and stood before
him, holding out his ring.

AFTER MANY YEARS.

lOI

"Take it," she said, " I give it to
you gladly. I would give far more
were it in my power to render you
happy by so doing, and now, good-
by."

He looked at her in amaze.

" Don't feel badly, Bird," he said.
"It's best for us both."

" I understand." She said the
words listlessty, and then, of a
sudden, her face quivered and with
an impatient gesture she cried :

"But /shall go away— y«r away.
How can I stay another moment,
knowing what you say is true ? ' '

Her white face seemed to move
him. The pain in her voice and
eyes reproached him and he took her
hands in his.

"Bird," he said, "I am sorry.
Perhaps I have been wrong. I
didn't intend it."

She drew her hands away. The
passionate fire and pain faded from
her face and only the tired, white
look remained.

" Never mind," she said, "it 's over
now. I only want to say good-by."

He bent his head and the impa-
tience died from his voice.

"But we can still be friends, you
know, — can we not? " he said.

Her lips quivered and her voice
broke.

"I hope so, only, — we will be so
far apart, it may be, and you will
have a wife."

He smiled. "And .you will have a
husband and will forget me and that
you ever cared."

A sudden protest rose to her lips,
then she checked it, and her face
grew even whiter as she said, half
under her breath, —

"Will you say good-by? I can 't
go without it."

That was years ago, but her cheeks
even now grew hot at the remem-
brance and at thought of the bitter
pain which had followed.

It had driven her to work and the
latent powers and possibilities of her
nature awoke, and life, which, had
it been passed as she would have
chosen, would have been passive,
stagnated, it may be, by the very
happiness of her love, had now blos-
somed and grown rich and full.

She had graduated from a young
woman's college and had finished a
course at a business school, — not
with any intention of going into bus-
iness but simply for the experience it
gave, — she had discovered in her soul
a love of art and most exquisite pic-
tures bloomed under her touch, and
when her health began to fail she
had paused and for a time had tried
to rest a bit, but the old unrest of her
heart urged her to work, and so she
turned to her pen and the world with
one accord "paused for awhile to
hear," read her books and ended
with loud cries for more, and so
riches, success, and fame came to her.

In her heart she knew she owed it
to him, and she often wondered, —
ought she not to be thankful to him ?

The question came to her to-day
and her intellect answered yes, but
her woman's heart drew back and
questioned, — was it worth the price
she had paid ? Then he was an-
nounced.

He had been trying to picture her
to himself and thinking of the girl
with the sad, white face and great,
sorrowful eyes, who would not leave
him until he had said ''good-by,"
and he said to himself, he would be
very careful i/iis time for she was
always emotional and undoubtedly

I02

AFTER MANY YEARS.

the woman was much as the girl liad
been, and" then, — he was announced.

He stepped forward with out-
stretched hand, then drew back,
doubt and amaze struggHng for the
master)' in his face.

Surely this woman, with her rich,
glowing beauty, her graceful ease
and half conscious air of power,
could have naught in common with
the slight, pale girl he remembered
so well.

"Pardon me," he said, "I think
there is some mistake. I expected to
find an old friend. Surely this is not
Mi.ss Ivce ? ' '

A low, rippling laugh interrupted
him.

" / lay claim to a better memory,"
she cried, "and am pleased to see
you, neither do I doubt j^our iden-
tity. Yes," and a sudden, indefina-
ble change came to her voice, ''this
is Miss lyce, or it may be better proof
if I use my childhood name and say,
this is Bird, only a woman, whereas
the Bird re// knew was but a child.
You seem surprised. Did you not
realize that years leave us not as they
find us?"

He smiled. " Pardon me," he re-
plied. " I was surprised. I think I
had expected to find my little friend
of a few years ago, slightly older
perhaps but still the same, but I find
instead — ' '

"Spare me," she interrupted with
a half impatient gesture. "Do you
not know women dislike to hear of
past charms ? ' '

''Past charms! Listen, Bird. I
find the most beautiful woman the
whole world holds ! The most — "

" Hush ! " There was no impa-
tient gesture this time, only a grave
earnestness in her voice. "Do you

think such words are pleasing to
me ? Sit down and talk to me if you
will of the news of the day, of the
theatre last evening, the lecture this,
or the concert to-morrow, but do not
try to tempt me with sugar-plums, for
I do not care for them."

There was a moment of silence.
Beatrice lyce leaned smilingly back
in her chair and, folding her hands
idly in her lap, waited.

"Bird," he began at last, "for
the sake of the old times shall we not
be friends ? ' '

She caught her breath quickly and
a sudden fire leaped to her face.

' ' For the sake of the old daj'-s ! ' '
and an unutterable scorn was in her
voice. "Do you know wdiat the old
days did for me ? They took my
happy girlhood from me ; they
changed me in a day from a girl to
a woman ; they took all faith, and
love, .and trust from my nature and
taught me suspicion and bitterness
instead, and yet you ask me for their
sake to be friends. Ah, if you
ivoidd be friends, speak not to me of
those days, else I tell you frankly
there shall be no vestige of friend-
ship between us."

She had arisen and stood before
him, her eyes bright as stars and her
cheeks flushed as the rose at her belt.
The sunlight streamed in at the open
window and falling across her hair
turned it to gold, and spite of the fire
in her eyes her face was cold and
proud. There was nothing about her
to remind him of the young girl who
would not leave him without a good-
by and yet it came vividly before his
mind with a sudden regret.

His cheek crimsoned. "But, Bird,"
he began, "you are a woman. Can
you not forgive ? ' '

AFTER MANY YEARS.

103

She laughed lightl}-. The sparkle
died from her eyes and the flush from
her face and left it quietly beautiful
once more.

"Forgive? / have nothing to
Could you find the girl of
summers ago you might well

forgive

ten

plead for her forgiveness, but that is
as nothing to me. I live in a beauti-
ful world of fancies and dreams. I
love it and it makes my life. I care
not for the past, even as much as
that," and she snapped her finger
and thumb carelessly as she reseated
herself. " What broke the heart of
the girl is no more to the woman
than the disappointment that inter-
rupts her for five minutes in the
midst of an interesting book. It
angered me that you should presume
it was."

He leaned forward eagerly.

" Then we may be friends, — not
on any past footing, but simply from
to-day?"

She drew her brows into a half
frown. "Beatrice Lee is not accus-
tomed to give her friendship in that
way. We are hardl}^ acquaintances,
remember. As the daj'S go by you
may not care for my regard, but
should you, it must be won as by
any other, — simply by showing me
you are worthy. Now tell me of
your wife and children. Are they
well?"

His face clouded. " My wife is
dead. Did 3'ou not know? I have
one child, a little girl of eight years."

The woman's face, softened. " I
love children, girls especially," she
said. " Will 3^ou bring her to .see
me ? That is, if you are stopping
here for long, — I have not asked you
and until receiving the note did not
know you were in the place."

' ' We shall be here for the summer,
I think. Yes, I shall be more than
glad to bring Helen to you. The
child misses her mother."

" Poor child ! " The woman's voice
was low and sweet and her eyes grew
wonderfully tender, but for a second
only ; the next, she had arisen.
" Pardon me," she said, " I have an
engagement at this time."

He, too, arose. "I have lingered
unconsciously, and it is I who must
beg pardon," he said. "Do I have
5'our permission to come again
soon ? ' '

Again the white brow was drawn
into almost a frown.

' ' I neither give nor withhold my
permission," she replied. " Come if
you like, but I do not promise to see
you. I have not much time to .spare
except for my dearest friends. I give
you fair warning, — you won't gain
much if you win my friendship. I
am selfish and, thej' saj^ a creature
of caprice. Good-b}^"

For a second her hand lay in his ;
the next, he was walking down the
street with bent head and downcast
face, and she was standing before the
window, a look on her face which
would have been hard to interpret,
as she watched him on his way.

" What is that, Grace ? " and Bea-
trice Lee turned her head slightly
and for a .second her fingers rested
from their rapid movement. "Mr.
Ra}' again ! It is certainly too ridicu-
lous ; human nature has its limit and
mine has been taxed to the utmost ;
this is the third time this week ! I '11
not see him."

"But, my dear, you must. I told
him you were in."

I04

AFTER MANY YEARS.

" So much the better ! He'll under-
stand in that case that I have o//icr
things to do besides talking with his
royal highness. You are full of
resources, Grace. Make whatever
excuse you like and I'll stand by
you."

Grace Lee smiled and bending
down looked into her sister-in-law's
face. She was a tiny bit of a woman,
whose life was bound up in her hus-
band and the tiny occupant of the
nursery upstairs, and whose admira-
tion for her beautiful sister-in-law
was unsurpassed.

'"Don't you know. Bird, the man
/oves you?" she said. "What are
you going to do about it ? "

' ' Nonsense ! ' '

"It's not nonsense, Bird. It's
sense and truth."

"Well, what then? Other men
have professed to do the same. It's
strange, I admit, but nothing so new
as to alarm you, is it Grace?" and
she laughed softly.

Grace Lee sighed. ''Have you a
heart, Bird?"

" Heart, oh, 5^es. Justnow it is
buried here," and she laid her
hand on the closely-written pages
beside her. " But go quickly, Grace.
Mr. Ray will be sadly impatient."

Mrs. Lee turned slowly. "I'm
quite sure I shall have to ask him to
tea," she said, as she closed the door.

In a moment, however, she reap-
peared. "The man won't take a
refusal, Bird," she said, "and the
child looked really heartbroken."

"Helen? Ah, if she's there it's
another story ! " and the writing was
pushed aside, the wayward curls
brushed hastily back from her brow,
the withered rose at her belt changed
for a fresh one, and she ran hastily

down and a moment later was bend-
ing to receive a kiss from the child.

" I'm so glad, dear Miss Lee," she
cried, " I thought you were not com-
ing."

"Ah," she said playfully, "but
I had no idea my little Helen was
waiting for me."

Then she turned and held out her
hand to the gentleman who stood
gravel}^ waiting. "Pardon me," she
said, "but I most certainly should
have come at once had I known little
Helen was here."

He smiled and frowned in almost
the same breath. " Shall I be jealous
of the child, or grateful to her? " he
queried.

"Just as you please," came the
prompt response, " it makes no differ-
ence to me. I wonder how it would
work if I were to adopt Helen and
keep her here altogether. Would
you come, dear ? "

The little girl looked first from one
to the other, and then, drawing
nearer and slipping her hand into
her new friend's, asked softly:

" Would you keep papa, too ? "

The man smiled and looked
triumphantly into the lovely face
opposite.

"Oh, dear, no," she said. "It
wouldn 't be convenient and besides,
it would be too much bother ; little
girls are nicer than men."

The child, however, was not to be
convinced. "Papa is very nice,"
she pleaded, "I'm sure it would n't
be a bother. You would like it,
would n't you, Papa ? Then we could
all live together, you know."

The man looked out of the window,
" Yes, "he said, " if Miss Lee is will-
ing."

" Helen," said Bird gravely, but

AFTER MANY YEARS.

105

with flushed cheeks, " little girls
s h o u 1 d n 't talk so much . I've
changed my mind. I '11 not adopt
either you or your papa at present."

At present. The man noticed the
words and a sudden gladness came to
him. For a moment he let his ej'es
wander to the bright, beautiful face,
the flush on her cheeks, the half
smile on the red lips, and the dark
eyes aglow with love for the child
who leaned against her knee, then
he said, —

" Suppose we change the programme
and 3'ou let ns adopt you for a bit ?
Have you seen Black Rock during the
last few weeks? Helen has been teasing
me for weeks to take her there, and
it 's well worth seeing ; will you go
with us to-morrow ? "

" Most gladl}^" she replied, while
her eyes glowed with pleasure. " I
was scolding myself onlj- j-esterday
that I had not been there. How very
kind of you to think of it ! "

' ' Does it make me one point nearer
the goal ? " he asked.

"The goal?"

" Your friendship. Do you not re-
member ? It has been many weeks
since I began to work for it ; have I
gained a bit in the race ? ' '

She smiled half teasingly. *' You
are Helen's father, you know, that
gives you great advantage." Then,
a moment later she arose and. with
just a touch of shyness crossed to his
side with outstretched hand.

" I offer you my friendship," she
said. "You have ntade the weeks
very pleasant."

How his dark face brightened, then
grew as tender as a woman's as he
took her hand closely in both his own.

"My best friend," he said, "God
bless 3'ou, dear." A second the dark

eyes looked into his and something in
their depths reminded him of the girl
of long ago, and a passionate fire
sprang to his face. How he had
thrown her love away ! What a
brute he had been ! He said to him-
self that, please God, for the remain-
der of his life he would .strive to
atone, for what did the soft light in
the dark eyes mean except that he
had won his way into her heart ?

The days flew by and lengthened
into weeks and still he lingered, and
not a day but found him by her side.
Together they rowed up the river in
the still, summer evenings ; together
they rambled over the hills or down
deserted lanes and byways in search
of wild flowers, or when the evenings
were too hot, together they sat out on
the porch, he reading aloud and often
pausing for a second to let his eyes
wander to the bright face of such
rare beauty near by, with eyes of
such wondrous depths, now full of
fire and shining like stars, again soft
and tender, full of an almost pleading
light.

There was power in every line of
her face, the power of one who had
attempted much and succeeded.

He loved to sit and watch her. He
loved her with a love he had never
felt before. It became a part of his
life. Right gladly would he have
endured any hardship, even death,
for her sake and as he saw the light
come to her eyes at his approach,
saw her face grow eager and glad at
his words, he felt his love was not in
vain.

The writing was sadly neglected
these days. Her magazines lay for
weeks with uncut leaves upon her
table. The outside world at last held
an interest for her, and the outside

io6

AFTER MANY YEARS.

world looked on and smiled, — won-
dered if she would burj^ her talents
in a quiet home life after all, — and
shook its head with a sigh, while old
Black Rock out beside the throb-
bing, restless sea, where the three
passed many an hour, smiled, or
would have smiled had it had e5'-es to
see the beautiful woman, fair as the
summer day itself, with a light in
her ej'es that had not been there for
many a da)^ and the dark-faced,
handsome man and merr}^ child, both
of whom showed in every word and
act how dear the woman was to them.

Thus the summer passed and
autumn was bringing close the time
for farewell.

Beatrice Lee sat by the open
window, her eyes dreamily smiling,
her hands clasped idly in her lap as
she watched, or seemed to watch, the
autumn leaves, golden and brown, as
they dropped from the gaunt old
trees and lay in little crimson heaps
by the roadside.

Her sister Grace, book in hand,
sat near by. At last the book was
laid one side.

"Bird," she said, "be careful,
Earland Ray loves you."

' ' Well, and if he does, what then ? ' '

"Oh, nothing, except probably
wedding cards and cake."

"What!"

The woman laughed. " It's time
you awoke to reality, Bird. You've
written up numberless heroines and
made them fall in love all properly
and in good time, but I told John
last night I was quite certain you
did not understand the way you your-
self were going. Ev'ery one else
knows it, my dear. There is but one
thing in all the world that brings the
same look to a woman's face. Ah,

Bird, Bird,— stop a bit and ask your-
self how 5'ou will feel when it comes
time to say good-b5^"

Beatrice Lee turned, and the smile
was gone from face and e5^es. She
reached up one white, jeweled hand
and drew the window down, and she
shivered a bit.

"It's growing colder," she said.
"What gave }'ou such insight into
ni}^ heart, O wise sister mine ? "

Grace smiled. "It's a familiar
path, ni}'- dear, but confess, am I not
right ? ' '

There was a moment's silence and
Bird let her eyes wander again to the
window. ''Could it be?" she ques-
tioned. Up the street came a tall,
straight figure, grown very familiar
in these last weeks, and a sudden
glow came to her cheeks, a sudden
thrill of gladness to her heart, and
she was answered.

On the opposite side, came a man
equally tall, but he stooped a bit,
and his hair and beard were quite
gray.

She turned away, a sort of indeci-
sion on her face.

"General Graves is coming," she
said. " You know, as well as I, the
question he comes to ask. What
shall I say to him? "

" Say to hi III! You can't very well
say jr5 to two men, child."

She laughed. " I have not said it
to one 5^et."

"But, Mr. Ray—?"

' ' Will not ask me to say it, most
likely."

" Ah, but he will, and t/icii, my
dear, I think you will not need to ask
what your answer shall be."

For just a moment there was
silence, then she leaned forward and
opening the window again leaned her

AFTER MANY YEARS.

107

head against it, as she said, wea-
rily,—

" It has been a beautiful day,
Grace, — a beautiful summer, too,
and I did not understand there was
anything to make me so happy
except God's beautiful world. What
made you rouse me to the fact? "

Grace Lee crossed over and rested
her hand on the bowed head.

" How strangely you look and act,
dear," she said. " Whj^ should your
love make you unhappy, child? "

" General Graves is in the parlor
asking for Miss Bird."

It was the servant's voice and Bird
arose. At the door she turned, and
there was a dull red in her cheeks —
a restless fire in her eyes. She came
back and stood by her sister's side.

"You are right, Grace," she said.
" I love him. For ten long years,
since a child of nineteen, I have loved
him, and lived for him, and worked
for him. Never a picture have I
painted, never written a line, but I
have thought, — He will see it some
day and know it was mine. I deter-
mined to make him own my power.
Now it is done and I have nothing
more to work for because, — I am a
woman, you know, with a woman's
heart that will not risk being broken
for a moment of jo3^ Do you under-
stand? Good-night."

She went noiselessly from the room
and down to General Graves. He
met her with outstretched hands.

" You are very good," he began,
"I wanted so much to see you, to
know the answer you have for me.
Is it to make me happy ?"

She drew her hands away and sat
down. "I thought I had decided,"
she said, "but I find I have not.
Will 3^ou give me another day ? I

was going to tell you I did not love
you, but, — would yo\x wish me to
marr)^ 3'ou, knowing that? "

A moment he hesitated, while he
stood looking earnestly into the
flushed, beautiful face, and the eyes
that seemed all on fire to-night, then
he answered her gravel3^

"Yes," he said, "for love might
come by and by, and, in any case,
I should have you near."
. "Then," she said, and there was
a certain hardness in her voice, "give
me one more day in which to decide."

He took her hand. "And if your
answer be ycs^ will you marry me at
once. Bird ? I have business that
calls me across the water and must be
off inside of ten da)^s. I wish I
might take my wife with me."

She caught her breath quickly and
her face grew suddenly white.

" Yes, she said, " //^I marry you it
shall be as soon as 5'ou like."

"But, Papa, aren't you going to
take me, too? "

"Not to-night, dear," and Mr. Ray
bent and kissed his little daughter.
" Papa wants to see Miss Bird alone
to-night.

"Tell me about it. Papa. What
are you going for? "

A moment the man hesitated, then
he sat down and t6ok the child in his
arms.

" Do you love Miss Bird, Helen?"
he asked.

" Oh, yes, very much ; and you do,
too, don't 3'ou Papa ? "

A sudden light came to the dark
face. "Yes, little one," he replied,
" I love her very dearly. She and
my little girl are the whole world to
me, and Helen dear, I am going

io8

TIVO QUATRAINS.

to-night to ask her if she will come
here and live with us and be your
mamma. Would you like it?"

"Oh, yes! O Papa, are you sure
she '11 come ? "

" I think so, dear."

" Papa," and the little face grew
very earnest, " I will kneel just here
and ask God to make her come and I
will ask Him all the time you are
away until you come again."

He held her very closely. "God
bless you, my darling," he said, "but
your little eyes must be closed fast in
sleep before papa comes back Now
kiss me and I will go."

She kissed him, then slipped on
her knees by the chair, as he left her.

As he walked along the street he
heard the glad sound of wedding
bells and he smiled. "Some one is
happy to-night," he mused.

He had sent a note to Bird in the
afternoon, telling her to expect him
and the question which he should
come to ask, and as he rang the bell
and stood for a moment in waiting,
all his heart sprang to his eyes.

The door opened.

" Is Miss Beatrice in? " he asked of
the servant who answered his ring.

The girl smiled, then a strange
look of half pity came to her face.

"Miss Beatrice she be gone," she
said, "but she said as did Mr. Ray
call to hand him this."

He took the envelope from her
hand with a little disappointed look.
Of course, he said to himself, it was
better to get a xvrittai yes than no
answer at all, then he opened it as he
turned away and then, — how the
light fled from his face ! how white
and old it grew !

The merry laughter of the children
playing opposite sounded strange and
afar off, as he listened to them a
moment, then, with her wedding-
card in his hand, turned and walked
wearily up the street, while in the
old church yonder a woman, with
rarely beautiful face, from which
every trace of color had fled, stood
before God's altar and at that very
moment was promising in clear tones
to "love, honor, and obey" until
death.

Her eyes wandered to the window
opposite just as Earland Ray turned
from the door, her card in his hand,
and a sudden break came to her
voice, a strange look crept into the
beautiful eyes, and over the white
face an ashen grey, like the shadow
of death, settled, as she turned from
the altar — a wife.

TWO QUATRAINS.

By Willis Edwin Hurd.
THE SNOWFLAKE.

Like a murmur of peace to the earth below.
O'er .shadowing the ground.

Falls the pure emblem — the heaven-born snow-
In crystal flakes around.

LAUGHTER.

When laughter speeds o'er hill and dale.
And scents the far-off old year going,

It smiles more sweetly for the hale
And ruddy new year freshly glowing.

REPRESENTATIVE AGRICULTURISTS.

By H. H. Metcalf.

AI^FRED J. GOULD, NEWPORT.

In the northwestern portion of the
town of Newport, four or five miles
distant from the village, on the road
from Northville to Cornish Flat, is
the Gould homestead, now known as
"Fruit Farm," originally settled by
Nathan Gould of Hopkinton in 1790,
and now the home of his grandson,
Alfred J. Gould, who has long been
regarded as one of the most prosper-
ous and successful farmers in the
town. Here were reared the ten chil-
dren of Nathan and Betsey (Goodwin)
Gould, and here their eldest son,
Gideon, lived and died at the age of
more than fourscore years.

Alfred J. Gould, only child of Gid-
eon and Sally (Ward) Gould, was born
at the old homestead, January 18,
1840, and here has always had his
home, succeeding to the estate upon
his father's decease. He was edu-
cated at the district school and at
Newport academy, but with a natural
inclination for the occupation of his
ancestors, has devoted himself closely
to agriculture throughout his life, and
by thorough cultivation has main-
tained the fertility and increased the
productiveness of the farm, which,
originally embracing one hundred
and fifty acres, now includes about
three hundred and fifty, extensive
additions having been made from
time to time by his father and him-
self. From fifty to seventy-five acres

are in mowing and tillage, and the
annual hay crop averages about sev-
enty-five tons.

Mixed farming has always been
pursued on this farm, though it had
a reputation for the excellence of its
dairy products half a century ago
and more, and has been known, par-

Alfred J. Gould.

ticularly of late, for the excellent
qualit}^ and large variety of its fruit.
From twenty to thirty head of cattle,
four horses, and about fifty sheep are
usually kept, and the raising of milch
cows for sale has been quite a feature
in the recent management of the
place. So, also, is the maple sugar
product, sent to the Boston market
largely in the form of superior syrup,

REPRESENTA TI VE A GRICUL TURIS TS.

Ill

of whicli some four hundred or five
hundred gallons are annually pro-
duced. He raises annually from a
ton to a ton and a half of pork for
market, believing it to be far prefer-
able to the purchase of commercial
fertilizers.

Mr. Gould has a natural taste for
fruit culture, and, his soil being pe-
culiarly adapted to the thrifty growth
of the apple, he has taken pains to
graft to the best varieties all apple-
trees springing up on the place, and
has set many more, so that he has
now on his farm over i,ooo grafted
apple-trees. Man}^ of these have not
come into full bearing as yet, though
his average product is from one hun-
dred and fifty to four hundred barrels,
which will be largely increased in a
few years, the Baldwin being the
leading variety. He has also about
one hundred and twenty-five plum-
and as many pear-trees, and many
bushels of these choice fruits are also
marketed in bearing j^ears.

Although with characteristic mod-
esty refraining from anj^ active dem-
onstration in the political field, Mr.
Gould, who is a Republican, is inter-
ested in public affairs, and has served
four 3^ears as a member of the board
of selectmen, and was a representa-
tive from Newport in the legislature
of 1889, serving as a member of the
finance committee and taking an ac-
tive interest in all matters of impor-
tance coming before the house. He
is liberal in his religious convictions ;
is a member of Sugar River lodge.
No. 55, I. O. O. F., and also of Sul-
livan grange. No. 8, of Newport, of
which organization he has been sev-
eral years treasurer. He is one of
the trustees of the Newport Savings
bank.

Mr. Gould married Sarah Jane
Ayers, of Cornish, December 15,
1 86 1, who died October 6, 1864,
leaving one son, wdio also died at
the age of five years. February 3,
1866, he was united with his present
wife, Miss Orpha A. Honey, of Lemp-
ster, by whom he has one daughter,
Mary Alice, born June i, 1S86, while
two sons died in infancy.

PHILIP C. CLOUGH, CANTp:RBURV.

A prominent representative of the
w^ell-known Clough family of Can-
terbury is Philip Carrigan, son of
Thomas and Hannah (Hazeltine)
Clough, born February 19, 1835,
upon the old homestead, now in his
possession, and originalh^ owned by
his grandfather, Obadiah Clough,
where he has ever had his home.
Mr. Clough was educated in the dis-
trict schools and at New Hampton
Institution, and has devoted his life
to agricultural pursuits, studying the
best methods and doing thoroughly
whatever he undertakes. The home
farm, upon which is a substantial set
of buildings, contains about 125 acres.
In addition to this, he has about 200
acres more, in two other localities in
town, mostly wood and pasture, one
lot being the old Hazeltine place,
formerly occupied bj^ his mother's
family. About 50 acres of his home
farm are in mowing and tillage, and
are thoroughlj' cultivated. In former
years, wool growing was a specialty
on this farm, from 125 to 150 fine
sheep being kept for this purpose ;
but of late dairying has been a lead-
ing feature, and of the 25 head of
cattle usually kept, about 15 are
milch cows, whose production is car-
ried to the creamery, a stock com-
pany which Mr. Clough was largely

112

REPRESENTA TI VE A GRIC UL TURIS TS.

interested in establishing, and the
cream sold to H. P. Hood & Sons of
Derry. The hay product is supple-
mented for feeding purposes by ensi-
lage, for which about five acres of
Northern corn are usually raised, and
cut into the silo, ears and all, at the
proper time. Three horses are also
kept on the place.

The stock kept is mostly of the
Holstein breed, and includes some

Philip .C. Clough.

superior animals. Mr. Clough has
been a successful exhibitor at the
fairs, and at the last state exhibition,
at Tilton, won a first prize on bull,
and also on milch cow. A good
amount of fruit is produced, and in
bearing years several hundred barrels
of apples are sold. Mr. Clough also
buys apples quite extensively for the
market, and owns a half interest in
the Canterbury Store Co. ; and here
it may be said that he has also for

many years sold agricultural imple-
ments of various kinds, being the
agent of the well-known Boston firm
of George Tyler & Co. Believing in
the best tools of all kinds for his own
use, he has thus been instrumental
in furnishing superior implements to
others.

Mr. Clough married, August 30,
1866, Mary E. Batchelder, daughter
of Eleazer Batchelder, of Canterbury.
Two children were born to them, but
both died in infancy. About fifteen
3^ears ago they took to their home
two children, — Katie and Henry
Gleason — giving them a good, prac-
tical education at the town school
and Tilton Seminary. Katie is now
engaged in teaching, while Henry is
still at home caring for the interests
of the farm.

Mr. Clough is a member of the
Congregational church, and in poli-
tics, Republican. He has been sev-
eral times a member of the board of
selectmen in Canterbury, and two
years chairman, and in November,
1896, was chosen representative to
the legislature by seventy-eight ma-
jority, though the town has ordinarily
been Democratic. He is a member
of Doric lodge, F. & A. M., of Tilton;
was a charter member of Merrimack
River grange, of Canterbur}^ of which
he has been master, and a charter
member and first steward of Merri-
mack County Pomona grange. He
was an active promoter of the Grange
State fair, and has been superinten-
dent of different departments and a
member of the executive connnittee.
He is also president of the Canterbury
& Boscawen Telephone company.

THE WINTER TENANTS OF AN OLD WEEE.

By H. H. Hanson.

|0T far from my home is
a field bordering the
highwaj^ , which con-
tains something quite
entertaining to me, and
which ma}' not be wholl}' without
interest to the readers of the Gran-
ite Monthly.

The field, on the side opposite the
road, is joined by a large meadow
from which it is separated hy a fringe
of alders and white birches. This
meadow is a favorite haunt of the
bittern, and in the morning and
evening hours his loud booming cries
awake the echoes. Here among the
wild meadow grass and sedge, the
lovely begonia blooms in profusion
through the summer months, and the
red-winged blackbird scolds from the
tops of the alder thickets. On the
other edge of the field, near the road,
is a row of large sugar maples throw-
ing, in summer, a cool, delightful
shade for the dusty traveler, and one
giant elm reaching out his proud
branches, eighty feet or more above
the earth, and seeming to draw
haughtily aloof from the more hum-
ble trees at his side.

But it is not the maples and their
neighbor, the elm, that I purpose to
talk about in this sketch, neither is
it the meadow, but a den of snakes.
Years ago, there was an old farm-
house with its accompanying barn in
this field ; but long ago they were
moved away, and the cellar was filled

up with rocks and dirt. Beneath the
elm is the old well ; but this, like the
cellar, is filled up with rocks and
covered over with dirt. This well is
my snake den. Here they stay
through the winter. Black snakes,
striped snakes, green snakes, wood
snakes, and adders ; snakes, long,
short, big, and little, live together
among the rocks in the old well for
nearly six months in the year.

They do not come out until the
latter part of April ; for the heat
cannot reach them very early in their
underground home . After the ground
has been thoroughly warmed and the
sun is shining bright, some warm
day near the close of April or the
first of May, I have seen three black
heads sticking out of the ground
from one hole. Go near them, and
all disappear.

More commonly, one will appear
at a time. First, with his nose just
in sight he ma}^ la}^ all day, if not
disturbed, not rising above the level
of the ground. Next day, he is
bolder and stays for hours, rising
about six inches from the mouth of
the hole, looking like a dried stick
from the tree above him. Approach
nearer, and the head sways slightly
and he backs out of sight. But you
cannot keep them long in the den
after the warm days of sunnner have
actually commenced. He will sneak
out when you are not looking and
escape.

114

ON THE STAIR.

The adder does not come out in
the manner of the black snake. He
may lay for a daj' or two with his
nose just visible, in order to get
warmed up, but when he gets read}^
to come out he does so without any
reconnoitering. I have never seen
an adder's head raised above the
ground when they are ready to come
out. In this den, the black snakes
predominate, there probably being
half a dozen of these to one of any
other kind. Adders come next on
the list, and last, a few striped,
green, and wood snakes. These are
smaller than their neighbors and
quicker, darting back into the hole
very suddenly when you approach. I
have seldom been able to capture any
of these, but nearly every spring I
get some black ones and a few adders.
The longest snake captured from
this den was a black one five feet,
four inches long. They will probably
average about four feet.

I have never seen as many snakes
here since as there were the first
spring the den was discovered. Per-
haps it is because I do not watch
them as closely as I did then, but I
do not think as many winter here
now. I was quite young when we

found these snake holes one day by
accident, and not having much else
to do, I watched the place very
closely and killed a. large number
before they were warm and nimble
enough to escape, for at first they are
numb and stupid. Sometimes, im-
patient at the slow motions of some
old fellow who did not seem inclined
to show more than a few inches of
his head and neck, I would creep
as near as possible, unobserved by
keeping behind the old elm, then,
b}^ making a quick rush, I would be
able to seize him by the neck before
he could back into the ground.
Even then, they would resist so
firmly as sometimes to allow them-
selves to be pulled in two pieces,
rather than let go their hold from
the rocks below. I have never seen
a snake lingering around here in
the fall, but they know some way
how to find the den, for since the
first spring the number has not
seemed to diminish, and each spring
after the snow has all disappeared
and the surface of the ground is
warm and dry, I expect to see a black
head sticking out of the old well
under the elm.

ON THE STAIR.
By L. Arolyti Caver ly.

The sunshine through the casement
Smote rainbows down the stair,

And such a haloed grace lent
As pictured angels wear,

To crown the childish face bent
To kiss me from the stair ;

POLLY TUCKER.

115

With hair like silk a-blowing

Amid the bending corn,
When windy waves are flowing

From out the sea of morn ;
And cheeks like poppies glowing

Amid the summer corn ;

And eyes so loving-simple

They won you unaware,
Twin bluets, by her wimple

Foam-wreathed and doublj^ fair ;
And one capricious dimple

That won you unaware.

I conjure up the vision,

While morn by morn shines dead ;
The sunshine, in derision,

Bemocks that radiant head ;
Then straight the dream elysian

Fades, and the morn is dead,

And I, alone with Sorrow

Upon the haunted stair.
Some solace fain would borrow

From dreams of Otherwhere,
Where we may kiss good-morrow

On some celestial stair.

POI.LY TUCKER.

By Annie J. Conwell.
CHAPTER VII.

TUESDAY, January 10.
Is it possible that it
is almost three weeks
since Mr. Eadd was
hurt ? He has been
very patient during his illness, — but
then, he has been Mother's charge,
and her invalids always enjoy being
sick. To-day, he seemed restless,
and as if he needed to be entertained,
so Mother said to me " Polly, I don't
need your help about the house, and

I want some flax spun ; you had bet-
ter get out the little wheel and chat
with Mr. Ladd while you spin."
Mr. Eadd was very much pleased,
and declared there is no prettier
picture to be found than some one
spinning in front of a generous
hearth fire. His books have been
sent from town and he asked me, as
I arranged the wheel, if I would like
to have him read aloud as I spun.
"Will you, really? Oh, thank you !"

ii6

POLLY TUCKER.

I exclaimed, and rushed off to the
attic to get the flax. When I re-
turned, he had his books spread out
on the table all ready to begin.

' ' What shall we read first ? " he
asked. "These are the works of
Walter Scott, whose writings are so
much talked about just now. Here
is ' Minstrelsy of the Scottish Bor-
der,' this one is 'The L,ay of the
Last Minstrel,' and this one," tak-
ing up a third book, "is his latest
poem, ' Marmion.' " After a mo-
ment's consideration, we decided
upon "The Lay of the Last Min-
strel," which he at once began to
read while I spun and listened hap-
pily, for a new book is a rare treat

to me.

Sat., Jan. 14.

O my diary ! I wonder if you can
imagine how happy I am ? I work
with a will now, for I know that
when all is tidy I can sew or spin or
knit while Mr. Ladd reads ! I am
impatient to get to our reading
again. Mother doesn't allow me to
read worldly books on the Sabbath,
so I must wait till day after to-
morrow, I suppose. Mother has
never let me read novels, as a rule,
although there are some that she
recommends as healthful in tone,
and she listened to * ' Marmion ' ' for
awhile before she gave me permis-
sion to hear a number of books by
the same writer ; but since she has
known something of the style of his
works, I think she likes to listen to
our readings as well as I do. I
wonder, with everybody else, who
this " Waverly " can be? Then, too,
Mr. Ladd is a very fine reader. His
voice is clear, and he reads in an
easy, conversational tone that is rest-
ful to listen to and seems easy to

use. To-morrow morning, we are
to have a fire in the parlor to get it
warm enough for us to go in there
after dinner, for Mother says Major
and Madam Sherburne may coine
down to see Mr. Ladd, and we had
better be ready.

Tues., 17.

The Sherburne's did come down
last Sunday, and when they found
Mr. L. so much better, — able to be
moved from room to room, — they at
once began to talk about his going
home.

I was frightened, for I thought,
" Oh, dear ! there is an end of all our
delightful readings ! ' ' but Mr. Ladd
said, " No, not yet. I have just
begun to realize how pleasant it is
to be useful, and I enjoy it too much
to resign the experience right away.
At home I have no special duties, but
down here I am general overseer of
the housekeeping, kitchen fire, and
spinning. You couldn't do without
me, could you, Mrs. Tucker?" then
turning to his aunt he added, " You
know the splints aren't to be taken
off my leg till Thursday, and even if
they were off now. Aunt, you would
quiver every time I took a step, until
that limb is as strong as the other.
Feeble old gentlemen like myself
often find icy sidewalks to be treach-
erous places ; so if they will let me,
I think I will stay with our kind
friends here awhile longer." ''Let
you stay," exclaimed Mother, "we
shall be glad to keep you as long
as you can be contented here,"
then to Madam S., "I really don't
know what I am going to do when
Mr. L- goes home, for ni}^ special
care will be gone. Do leave him
with us as long as you can spare him
— I am sure he is welcome," and

POLLY TUCKER.

117

Father added, "Yes, indeed! the
longer he stays the better we shall be
pleased." "Oh, thank you both!"
exclaimed Madam S., "You are
so kind that I am perfectl}^ satis-
fied to leave him in your hands,
and can I say more than that ? He
is all we have, you know." "One
is enough of this kind," announced
Mr. L-, laughing to hide the fact that
he was really touched by the fond-
ness which both these good friends
had expressed for him.

"There, Mrs. Tucker," exclaimed
Major S., "that remark is the result
of your good work, I know. If he
stays here with you long enough, he
may get to be quite a sensible youth,
yet. So, Alfred, you're afraid to go
home for fear of tumbling down, are
you? Ha, ha, ha ! I don't know but
what 5^ou are right, but it seems to
me you are careful of yourself, un-
usually so, for you, but do as you
like, do as you like, boy ; you
always have, and so I suppose you
think 3'ou must in this case." He
seemed to find a great deal of amuse-
ment in the situation, for he kept
chuckling and laughing quietly as he
sat watching Mr. I,, with such a wise
expression of countenance, leaving
Madam S. to do the talking for them
both. When he took leave of Mother
he said, "Good-night, Mrs. Tucker;
don't distress yourself about the care
of that nephew of mine, for he don't
need it. He seems disposed to take
precious good care of hivisclf" and
he trotted off, followed by Madam
Sherburne, who lingered only long
enough to say to Mother in a man-
ner that seemed as if she were tr3'ing
to convince herself, " Yes, certainly
he had better stay where he is for he
might slip on the ice and tJioi, dear,

dear! Oh, by all means let him stay

with you, Mrs. Tucker, let him stay,

if you please."

Thurs., Jan. 19.

This morning Mother and I have
hurried with the work, for Dr. Pier-
pont is coming down here to take
Mr. lyadd's leg out of the splints, if
he finds it well enough. We are all
through now and are waiting, so I
ran up here to you.

It looks like snow but I hope it
won't come before afternoon, for the
doctor may not come if it storms, and
we are anxious to hear what he will
sa}' to his patient's progress.

Sat., 21.

Dr. Pierpont came Thursday' morn-
ing in good season. He found the
fracture in excellent condition, took
the leg out of the splints and told Mr.
ly. that he might go where he liked, if
he would be careful about falling and
would use a cane for a week or two.
"And now, Alfred," he said, as he
was getting ready to leave, " if you
have planned an)^ more escapades of
this kind, just postpone them till
warm weather, for driving over Pev-
erly hill in winter is pretty cold work.
You should be a little more consid-
erate of 5'our friends' comfort when
you select your amusements, j'oung
man," and the good doctor bowed
himself out.

Presentl}^ Father came in to hear
the verdict, and Mr. D. insisted upon
appearing among us ' ' clothed and
on his own feet," as he said. So
he soon came out into the kitchen,
using a cane and leaning on Father's
arm. It was a regular holiday to us
all, for he was very gay and kept us
laughing all the time with his lively
sallies. Mother had a turkey dinner
in honor of his first appearance at

ii8 POLLY TUCKER.

table with us, and he declared it was Sun., Jan. 22.

worth one's while to break a bone or The roads are so badly blocked

two, in order to find out how delight- with snow and the wind blows vSO

ful the getting well could be made. hard that there can be no going to

After dinner Mr. Ladd read aloud meeting to-day. Even Father had to

as I worked, but if my fingers had give up and stay at home, — a most

not gone on mechanically, the knit- unusual thing for him to do. Of

ting would soon have come to a course there can be no reading nor

standstill. I was so much interested working, and I was expecting that

in the story that I did not even no- Mr. Ladd would have a dull enough

tice that it was snowing until Father time; but he isn't used to being

came in from the yard, stamping the snowed-in and the novelty of it seems

snow off his feet and prophesying a to please him so much that I soon

heavy storm. It grew dark early, gave up worrying on his account,

and Mother insisted that Mr. ly. Early this morning. Father started a

should go to his room in good season, fire in the parlor, but the cold is

as it was his first attempt at sitting something dreadful, so it wasn't

up all da}^ ; so we were soon quiet really warm in there till after dinner.

and the house closed for the night. Then Mr. L,add and I thought we

The snow fell steadily all night and would go in there and have a sing.

Friday, so this morning we opened We sang together all the sacred

our e5^es upon a transformed world, music that we could get hold of, and

Everj'thing was buried in snow, the then Mr. ly. took my place at the

walls were out of sight, the trees were spinet and sang and played some

loaded until their tops bent heavily wonderful music such as I had never

with their burden, and when Father heard before. He told me afterwards

opened the back door he found a drift that it was oratorio music ; and his

to the very top of it. The rooms clear, sympathetic voice gave added

were so darkened b)^ the windows meaning to what was a revelation in

being partly under the drifts that we itself. I cannot tell you how much I

had to burn candles until Father and enjoyed it. I could only sit and lis-

Charlie had cleared some of the snow ten with all my heart to such music

away. We who live in the country as seemed to me must belong to the

expect such snows sometimes, but angel choir of heaven,

they always produce a sort of excite- He sang for half an hour, closing

ment, as if Nature were in a reckless with " Holy, holy, holy, lyord God

mood and one hardly knew what to Almighty." Then the music ceased,

look for next. Of course heavy and Mr. L,., turning around to speak

snows occur in the city as well as in to me, exclaimed, "What! in tears?

the country, but in the one place the Did I sing so very badly ? Pardon

snow is cleared away as it falls and me, and I '11 try to do better with a

in the other it just buries everything, lighter style of music."

almost the houses; and the people I protested against Mr. I^add's so

just have to tunnel their way into misunderstanding my emotion, and

daylight. That is what Father and begged him to go on. I really did

Charlie had to do all day, nearly. not know that my tears were freely

POLLY TUCKER. 119

falling, until he called my attention dancing Viginia reel. Very likely it

to them. I told him, while I was was like that to me because the first

sure to like anything that he might music did, and this piece did not, har-

sing, nothing could please me better monize with my mood,

than those grand, solemn selections Perhaps my being half afraid that

which he had just sung. Father and Mother would be shocked

He was quiet a moment, then at such lively music being used in

turned to the spinet and struck into our house on the Sabbath had some-

a different strain. The music was thing to do with my lack of appre-

livelier in character, but the words ciation of it. If they heard it they

were in a language that I did not didn't say anything, and pretty soon

understand. The music was bright Mr. Ladd stopped playing,

and Mr. Ladd's voice as wonderful as He turned to me abruptly and

before, but someway it jarred a little, seemed about to say something, but

Following the other selections, this checked himself and proposed that

piece seemed almost as unsuitable as w^e go back to the big fireplace in

it would be if one came from an act the kitchen, — his favorite resort, —

of solemn consecration and joined in which we at once did.

CHAPTER VIII.

Tues., Jan. 24. any more like going to town than you
I wonder what Mr. I^add was about did the other day? " he inquired. "I
to say to me when he stopped so can't for the life of me see that there
suddenly? Most likely I never shall is anything the matter with you now
know, but I wish I could. The but want of inclination to go home,
reading goes on just the same, only Why, boy ! you ought to have a little
not so rapidly as at first, as we oftener mercy on good Mrs. Tucker. She
stop to talk over what has been read, didn't agree to adopt you, — do you
Some of the characters are more ad- think that she did? " "Oh, no, sir!
mirable than others, of course, but I don't flatter m5-self to that extent,"
my sympathies are with poor, foolish, replied Mr. Y,. with a light laugh,
pretty little Amy. I should object " I wish she would, though, — I'd like
to these repeated interruptions to the nothing better than to be under her
story if the talks were not equally care permanently, and I need train-
interesting to me. ing, no doubt. By the way, what

Thurs., Jan., 26. does Aunt do for some one to look

Major Sherburne rode down here after and lecture a trifle, now that I

to-day, to see Mr. Ladd. Since the am awa}^?"

storm, the traveling has been too bad " Now don't you be too inquisitive,
to admit of his venturing so far on a you young scapegrace ! If that in-
country road ; then he has heard from quiry was suggested by this big muf-
Dr. P. how nicely Mr. ly. was getting fler around my neck, you have lost
along, so he hasn't felt uneasy about your guess this time. Your Aunt
him. "Well, Alfred, do you feel would have wrapped me in shawls

I20

POLLY TUCKER.

from head to foot, but the muffler
was all that I would stand."

"No, sir," replied Alfred demurel}^
"I didn't notice the muffler before,
but since you speak of it, I do recog-
nize it as the one that Aunt is always
lying in wait to wrap somebody up
in. No, it was j^our anxiety to get
me home, as well as your air of gen-
eral depression and patient endur-
ance, that called forth the remark, —
and my sympathy. '*^

"Stop, 5'oung man! If you say
one word more, home you go this
minute ! Air of depression and pa-
tient endurance, indeed ! Mrs. Tucker,
if 3^ou don't take this youngster in
hand and teach him better manners,
he will have to go to sea as cabin-boy
to learn how to treat his superiors."

We laughed heartily at their non-
sense, for we all know that Madam S.
is one of the gentlest of women, if
she is just a little bit fussy, and the
dear old Major is a most devoted hus-
band. Major S. is fat and jolly, and
he and Alfred appear more like broth-
ers than uncle and nephew. When
they begin a tilt, Madam Sherburne,
who is rather matter-of-fact, at first
looks helplessly from one to the other,
and failing to understand their fun,
just folds her hands and waits pa-
tiently until they have finished.

Jan. 31.

Mr. lyadd is quite well now, and
still he remains here. Is n't it strange
that he should like to stay in the
country in winter?

Of course his presence is a welcome
addition to our liou.sehold, and he
insists, much against Father's wishes,
upon paying liberally for being here.
When Father told him to stay just as
long as he could be contented, he
meant as our guest, and for a long

time refused to hear of anything else;
but Mr. L. declared that he would
go to town at once, glad as he would
be to stay a while longer with us,
unless he was allowed, as he put it,
' ' to make some return for the trouble
of having him around," so Father
had to submit. Of course we are
glad of the extra income, but are un-
willing for it to come in that way.
It seems like being paid for extend-
ing hospitality, but Father was fairly
forced into letting Mr. Ladd have his
own way. Farmers have so little
money to use that they have to count
every cent ; not because they are so
greedy for gain, but in order "to
make both ends meet," as the say-
ing goes. All this is disagreeable to
Father, for he is generous to the last
degree. I suppose Mr. I,add must
be wealthy, — the Sherburnes are, and
he is of the same family. I some-
times' wonder if our way of living
does not seem primitive to him. Well,
it is his choice to stay, .and as soon
as he is tired of it he can go.

Monday, Feb. 2.

Such a wonderful thing has hap-
pened that I scarcely know how to
tell you of it !

Mr. Ladd has asked me to marr}'
him ! Me ! Only think of it ! I can
hardly believe, even now, that it is
really true, although it was last night
that he told his story to an incredulous
listener. You see, we had been crack-
ing nuts and roasting apples on the
kitchen hearth. Father and Charlie
were out, and Mother had gone to
bed with a bad headache, so Mr.
Ladd and I were alone.

Each had named the other's apple
before we set them down in front of
the fire to roast, and were laughing
and chatting over our sport until we

POLLY TUCKER.

121

came to count the seeds, when all at
once Mr. Ladd became very quiet.
His apple had eight seeds ; mine,
twelve. He looked at me steadily,
without smiling, while he repeated
the rhyme: "One, I love, two, I
love," — and so on, until he came to
his number, eight ; then he asked
me who the apple had been named
for. I told him for his cousin. Miss
Deborah Wentworth. I had heard
him speak of her sometimes, and I
didn't know any other lady's name
to give him.

He smiled, but made no remark,
except to ask me how many seeds I
had found. I told him twelve, and
his face lighted up as he announced :
"Twelve, he marries; and I named
it for — who do you think, little Pol-
ly ? — myself ! You must know, little
girl, why your pleasant home has
been so attractive to me that I could
not leave it. I admired you as a
pretty, innocent child when I first
met you ; but during my stay here I
have seen in you, besides that, so
much genuine womanly character as
to win my entire respect and warmest
affection. Can j'ou not care for me
in return, and shall we not accept
the prophecy of those blessed apple
seeds ? ' '

I do n't know what I said, but some-
how he did not seem cast down by
the answer that he gathered from my
confused sentences. I,ater I could
see that I was a little bit jealous of
that handsome cousin of his, though
I was scarcely conscious of it at the
time. I am half afraid to be so happy
for fear something will happen ! And
to think that tliis is what he had
almost told me that Sunday, but had
stopped for fear that I might not be
ready to listen to him then !

Saturday, Feb. 4.

Alfred wishes to tell Father and
Mother how matters stand between
us, but I don't want him to just 3'et.
I think it will be nicer to have this
strange happiness all to ourselves for
a while. They maj"- not — of cour.se
will not — feel as we do, and it seems
to me I could not endure a rude in-
terrviption to my dream. For the
same reason, I have begged from him
the promise not to tell the Sherburnes
at present, though he pleaded hard
to be allowed to do so.

Mondaj', Feb. 13.

Yesterday Alfred went to meeting
with us. From my perch in the
singing seats I watched him to see if
he laughed at any of our oddities, for
there are plenty of them, but he did-
n't laugh, and his manner was very
respectful. I wondered how our. old
meeting-house would look to him,
coming to it from that fine new church
at Riverside, of whose beauty we hear
so much.

So I tried to look at the familiar
old meeting-house with a stranger's
eyes. I saw a bare-looking place
with staring windows, through which
the sun pours in summer and which
now but partially checked the en-
trance of the chilly winter wind.
A plain, painted pulpit with faded
cushions, and the huge sounding-
board, that always seems to me ready
to fall down on the head of the minis-
ter. From the centre of the blue
ceiling hangs a chandelier, sus-
pended b}' a painted rope. The
great square pews, some of which
have a chair in the middle, are varied
only by the two long pews, one on
either side of the main aisle with a
rack for books in front of the seats,
where the singers once sat. Every

122

POLLY TUCKER.

square pew has its pole with branch-
ing pegs for the accommodation of
the coats and hats of the occupants
of that pew ; and for the first time it
occurred to me that perhaps those
poles may look odd to a stranger.
The chair in a pew is the seat of
honor, reserved for the oldest woman
of the family, and I have heard
Mother tell of an old lady who once
came to church, to find her chair
occupied by an interloper. She
motioned for him to vacate it, but he
refused to move ; so she promptly
took from her shawl a long pin which
she thrust with no gentle hand into
the arm of the intruder, who at once
fled from the chair and pew, while
the determined old lady, with a sigh
of satisfaction, settled herself calmly
to the undisturbed enjoyment of the
privileges and services of the hour.

There are three galleries in the
house, and in the end one, directly
opposite the pulpit, is the choir, and
Abel I/Ocke with his bass viol.

I suppose the old house must look
queer beside modern ones, but my
fathers have worshiped here and
loved it, and so do I, — no matter who
laughs at, or who forsakes it ; so I
was read)^ to join in good old Net-
tleton, which was our first hymn, and
the words, " Come, Thou Fount of
every blessing. Tune my heart to
sing Thy praise," found a ready
echo in ni}^ heart. I did n't think
the sermon was so very interesting
and I noticed that Alfred began to
look decidedly sleepy, when all at
once Parson Potter lost his place in
his sermon, a common enough occur-
rence with him, and coughed and
ahemmed, so long and loudly before
he found it, as to wake everybody
in the house. Then I knew by the

desperately solemn face which Alfred
turned to me for a moment, that he
was doing his best to keep from
laughing. Parson Potter is a good
old soul, but he can 't keep his ser-
mon straight if nothing else would
save his life. The congregation rise
and join the choir in the ' ' dox-
ology " at the close of the service,
and every one turned and looked to
see who sang such a fine tenor. Of
course I knew whose voice led all
the rest and I just gloried in its
strength and sweetness, but he did
not seem to be at all conscious of the
effect of his singing. As soon as the
service was over he had a number
of our friends and neighbors around
him, each inquiring for his health
and expressing pleasure at his recov-
ery — inquiries as sincere as if couched
in the best English in the world.
He remembered and was glad to see
all, which quite won their hearts.

Sat., Feb. i8.
Alfred has gone back to Riverside.
He went to-night with Major S., who
drove down from town to take him
home. Alfred had intended going
on Friday but waited to finish " Mar-
mion," which he was reading to me.
I am lonely so .soon, although I know
it is only proper that he should go,
for he is quite well and hasn't a
shadow of an excuse for staying any
longer. Not for the world would I
let any one know how silly I am, —
him, least of all ; but I believe if any-
thing .should separate our lives now
that he cares for me and wants my
love in return, I .should pray God to
let me die, for life would be too
empty and barren to be endured.
You are a great safety-valve for my
foolishness, my diary. What should
I do without you, I wonder?

POLLY TUCKER.

123

Mon., Feb. 20.

Alfred was here to-day, and if
Mother does not know of our fond-
ness for each other, I think she must
have suspected something of it from
our meeting. Not that either of us
was demonstrative, but he looked so
happy as he whispered in greeting
me, " Is it years since I saw you last,
little Polly ? It seems as long as
that to me and I am thankful to get
back to 5^ou." I felt so, too, though
I did not tell him so.

He came in in such a bright, boy-
ish way, as if he were delighted to
get back to us ! Mother was thor-
oughly glad to see him and made
him sit down and tell her how he had
been every hour that he has been
away from her care. She seems to
think that leg is likely to snap again,
though she knows that it is quite
well.

Alfred wants me to accept an invi-
tation which he brought me from his
aunt, to attend a party which she is
to give at her house one week from
to-morrow night, — the twentj^-eighth,
— in honor of his return to social life.
I want to go, but I am afraid of the
fine company that I should meet
there. Suppose I should do some
dreadful thing and make Alfred
ashamed of me? I do n't know what
would become of me if such a thing
happened. Then what shall I wear?

Tues., 21.

I was too perplexed about ni)'
dress last night to tell Alfred whether
I would go to the party or not. To-
day, Major Sherburne came down to
talk with Mother. He said he had
come especially to urge her to allow
me to accept Madam Sherburne's in-
vitation and to beg Mother's accept-
ance of a box which he had brought

from his wife. He told Mother that
he thought it was her duty to let me
get a glimpse of the outside world,
for my entertainment and amuse-
ment, he kindly said, and probably
thought, for my improvement, as I
did. Mother opened the box and
found a lovely brocade dress pattern,
with slippers, gloves, laces, ribbons,
and fan, — everything needed for a
party outfit ! These were on top and
marked with my name ; below was
an elegant black silk for Mother,
while a dainty note ' ' begged our
acceptance of the accompanying par-
cel as a slight token of appreciation
of our tireless care and kindness to a
beloved member of her family from
his grateful aunt, Margaret Sher-
burne."

Mother turned to thank Major S.,
but he had fled. I am so happy, for
now I can go to the party, — only I
had rather wear a simpler dress
which we had bought, than this

lovely gift.

Wed., Mar. i.

The great event is over, and I am
half glad it is ! Madam S. wanted
Mother to let me go to Riverside and
visit her while the party dress was
being made, but Mother would only
consent for me to go to town to have
the gown fitted and tried on. I won-
der why. It was finished and pro-
nounced a great success b}'' Madam
S. last Saturday, and on Tuesday
afternoon Alfred came down and
took me to Riverside to be arrayed
in style for the great party. I sat
still while Madam Sherburne's Ovvn
maid curled, plaited, and twisted my
hair into an indescribable mass on
top of my head, and when all was
finished and the new gown on, I was
bidden to look at myself. I started

124

POLLY TUCKER.

back in surprise, for surely the finely
dressed figure who looked at me out
of the long mirror could not be sim-
ple little Polly Tucker ! The French
maid flattered me a good deal, and I
must confess to a queer feeling of ex-
ultation. I thought, "-Now, I shall
see the fashionable world, Alfred's
world," and I was glad to go among
its people suitablj' dressed and cu-

rious to measure myself in my finery
with those whose life of ease I know
of only by report. In the midst of
these vain thoughts Madam S. came
into the room to look me over and
take me with her down to the draw-
ing-room. She was very much
pleased with my looks and said that
I was " a perfect wild rose of a
lassie."

CHAPTER IX.

I blushed at her words of praise
and wondered if she meant that she
detected thorns as well as some beau-
ty. I fairl}' caught my breath when
we entered the drawing-room, it was
so grand and more beautiful than
anj'thing that I ever saw. Great
banks of flowers filled the corners of
the room, vines wreathed portraits
and windows, and flowers were scat-
tered everywhere ; and when the
company assembled in such lovely
gowns as I never dreamed of, my
amazement was complete. I had
begged Madam S. to allow me to
look on for a while and not introduce
me to many people. She was kind
enough to give me in charge of a
nice old gentleman, who was quite
grandfatherly in his talk to me, —
calling me "little girl," and "my
child," — so I had a good chance to
look on and not feel obliged to talk
much. The portrait of a stately
dame in a .shimmering pink silk
gown hung right opposite me, and,
try as I would, I could not look away
from it. Whichever way I turned,
those beautiful but haughty eyes
seemed to follow me and to my ex-
cited fancy ask by what right I dared
aspire to a place beside one of her

kindred. My attention wandered,
and I was just wishing that I dared
run away and hide from those scorn-
ful eyes when Alfred came to me,
looking so bright and happy that all
sense of discomfort fled at his ap-
proach.

" What ! you 're not moping — eh,
little Polly ? I am just at liberty
from ~ receiving guests, and have
hastened to engage you for the next
dance. I am not expected to dance
to-night, on account of my lame-
ness," he laughed, "but I must have
just one with you."

I like so much to dance that a less
agreeable partner than Alfred would
have been welcome, but when we
had made our way to the broad hall
where the dancers were assembled, I
was half afraid to take my place in
that brilliant throng. However, I
soon forgot everything but the dance,
which was glorious ! The sweet
music, the brilliantly-lighted room,
and the lovely costumes of the ladies,
and, lastly, the most delightful of
partners, made motion poetry and the
scene a glimpse of fairy-land. When
at last it was over and we sat behind
some tall palms to rest, I drew a sigh
of delight because we were quite

POINT OF VIEW.

125

alone for the moment. Somehow, in
the crowd, he seemed to belong more
to them than to me, but here he was
my very own friend again. I spec-
ially enjoyed watching the people
from our retreat, and some of them I
shall never forget. There were two
old gentlemen who were together
nearly all the time and who would
occasionally get away from the other
guests and converse earnestly. Al-
fred told me they were Major Gard-
ner and Captain Manning, brothers-
in-law, both men of sterling worth
and warm friends of Major Sher-
burne, but strong partisans of the lib-
eral political party.

Of course it was out of the question
to discuss politics, at a social part)^ so
they solaced themselves by getting
off in a corner and talking around
the edges of the forbidden subject.
A young man with a round, rosy
face next attracted my attention, by
his genial, kindly expression which
seemed to proclaim him everybody's
friend. His name was Burroughs,
and the Episcopal society hope to
secure him as rector for their beauti-
ful new church just above here. But
the person who attracted more atten-
tion than anybody else present, the one
most sought and whose conversation
was listened to with closest interest,
was a large, powerful young man.

not more than twenty-five years of
age, with a broad, dark face, rather
heavy-looking black eyes, and black
hair. The general expression of his
countenance in repose was heavy ;
not really dull but certainly not bril-
liant. He impressed me as having a
great deal of power physically and
intellectuall}', and as one who would
be a dangerous opponent in argu-
ment. In conversation that dull face
was transformed by a perfect play of
expression, while a smile of pure
kindliness displayed teeth of dazzling
whiteness and lighted up the dusky
eyes. I was too far away to distin-
guish words, but by listening I could
catch the tones of his voice, which
was of peculiar depth and flexibility
as well as of great sweetness.

Alfred told me that he is a young
lawyer, whose fine presence, strong
personality, and rare mental gifts
have already given him a com-
manding position socially and at
the bar, and great things are proph-
esied for his future by those who
are wise in such matters. He was
accompanied by his bride, a beau-
tiful, fragile woman, to whom he
was devoted.

This man's name is Webster —
Daniel Webster ; and Alfred charged
me to remember it, as he is sure to
be heard from in the future.

[TV l>e contitnied.\

POINT OF VIEW.

[From the French of INI. de Gaspariii.J
By Will,' am Sliannoii.

Splendor ! Immensit}'- ! Eternity !
Grand words ! Great things ! Ah me
A little definite happiness
Would more to the purpose be.

Conducted by Fred Cowing, State Superintendent of Public Instruction.

FORTY-THIRD ANNUAL MEETING NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE

TEACHERS' ASSOCIATION. '

By Clara E. Upton, Secretary.

The forty-third annual meeting of the The first speaker was Mr. Ross

New Hampshire State Teachers' asso- Turner of Salem, Mass., whose subject

ciation was held in the Opera House at was, "Art in the School-room Through

Dover, October 30 and 31, 1896. Decoration and Works of Art." Mr.

The meeting was called to order by Turner said that the object of decorat-

President C. L. Wallace, of Lisbon, ing the school-room was not to make

Prayer was offered by Rev. J. E. Robins, amateur painters and sculptors; but

of Dover. This was followed by sing- that each pupil, from the kindergarten

ing by the pupils of the public schools to the high school, might have a com-

of Dover, under the direction of Mr. prehensive idea of art. This must of

Whittier, supervisor of music. necessity elevate both teachers and

Hon. William F. Nason, mayor of pupils. No attempt at decoration

Dover, extended a cordial welcome to should be made without consultation

the members of the association, and with persons who know art.

granted them the freedom of the city. The speaker mentioned different

Following this was a business meeting, schools in which the decorative idea
It was voted that the secretary's report had been carried out, and referred
be accepted without reading. The fol- to places where copies of the world's
lowing committees were appointed by masterpieces in art might be ob-
the chair : On nominations, Mr. Whit- tained. He said that the first steps
ney of Dover, Miss Tuttle of Nashua, must be taken by the teachers them-
Mr. Day of Plymouth, Miss Ham of selves, who must interest the people
Portsmouth, Mr. Montgomery of Som- in the subject ; and hoped that New
ersworth ; on resolutions, Mr. Spauld- Hampshire teachers would be awak-
ing of Manchester, Miss Mudgett of ened to the importance of art decora-
Lisbon, Mr. Allen of Farmington, and tion in the school-room as a factor in
Miss Drew of Laconia. education.

' Held at Opera Mouse, Dover, Friday and Saturday, October 30 and 31, 1896.

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT. 127

teachers in professional, intellectual,

FRIDAY AFTERNOON, i ,. , .• ,• tt ,

and scholastic lines. He then pro-

The afternoon session was opened by ceeded to explain the function of each
Prof. Friedrich Zuchtniann, author of of these institutions,
the "American Music System," whose The state association is a self-sup-
subject was " Music." porting and self-governing body. Its

The speaker said his address would work is the discussion of pedagogical

be upon "Vocal music in the public problems and new educational thought,

schools considered from a physical, and the promotion of judicious educa-

mental, and emotional standpoint." tional legislation. It should be at the

There are two forms of vocal expres- head and front of al! movements to ad-

sion, speech and song, the latter be- vance education in the state,

ing developed from the former, and The different county associations are

used especially to voice the emotion, also self-supporting and self-governing.

Certain conditions are common to both. Their function is discussing in detail

These are recognized by the teacher different methods and leading educa-

of elocution and the teacher of vocal tional questions. The teachers derive

music. The first condition is a good help from each other ; therefore the

voice ; the second, good method. A county association is the place for the

good voice depends upon good health, teacher to grow.

therefore he would correlate music to The institute serves wholly a didactic

general health. The speaker empha- end, by presenting knowledge to teach-

sized strongly the importance of the ers through experts, and showing the

care of the body. Free vocal utterance best ways of conducting public school

is obtained by practice of the vowels, work. An institute is not the proper

first alone, then with consonants pre- field for the discussion of mooted ques-

fixed and suffixed, and the vowels pro- tions in education, but a place for teach-

longed (singing tone). ing and instruction by the speakers.

Under no circumstances should the The plan of conducting institutes

voice be forced beyond its natural now is to hold many single day ses-

capacity. Breathing exercises should sions in different parts of the state,

precede each music period. thereby carrying inspiration to those

Properly taught, there is nothing dwelling in the smaller towns. These

better to cultivate the heart, soul, and conventions serve two purposes, in-

mind of the child than music. structing the teacher and, by the means

The association was next addressed of the evening lectures, causing the

by Hon. Fred , Gowing, state superin- people to see schools and educational

tendent of public instruction, Concord, forces as we educators see them. Occa-

upon "Unification of the Educational sionally, the institute and county asso-

Forces of the State." . ciations combine, and educators from

The speaker said that the subject did abroad are furnished by the state de-

not mean the unification of all the insti- partment.

tutions of learning in the state, but the These institutes are supplemented by

unification of all the various forms of a two weeks' school of instruction, held

education in the state that tend to the during the summer vacation,

advancement and improvement of the High school teachers have institutes

128 EDUCATIONAL DEFARTMENT.

which combine the didactic and discus- He would correlate drawing with

sional elements. other work, so that the seed sown in

Academy principals and teachers the primary school may blossom in the

have an association somewhat apart high school,

from the organizations of public school The speaker gave pedagogical reasons

teachers. There are also local teachers' for the different phases of the work in

clubs in different towns in the state. drawing, emphasizing the culture side ;

The several forces are operating for and said children should be led to see

the same end, — each with a little differ- and express the way things look, to

ent purpose ; therefore their unification notice beauty, and to use taste. The

is desired to the end that each may de- study of drawing should create an art

velop closer and more vital relations atmosphere,

with the other. Miss Flora E. Kendall, superintend-

Local associations should send dele- ent of schools, Athol, Mass., was the

gates to the county organizations, and next speaker, and her subject was "The

they in turn to the state. Each society Teacher of the Twentieth Century."

has its own work to do ; but every Miss Kendall said that the teacher of

teacher in the state should feel that he the twentieth century must be imbued

is a part of the state association. with the principles of true patriotism.

It is difficult to work in masses ; for and must foster a love for our country

this reason the speaker recommended and its institutions in those under her

that a select body of professional ex- charge.

perts be organized. Members of this The steady progress of education in
body, which may be called a council, the present century points to one con-
must have a certain professional status, elusion, namely, the demand for a
Such an organization should represent broader education of the men and
not a part but the whole of the state, women who are to mold the thought
Its function would be the discussion of and guide the affairs of the coming cen-
such educational questions as are of tury.

vital interest to the state. It ' might Many questions relating to the pres-
also, now that state examinations are ent and future teachers might be con-
held, put its stamp of approval on cer- sidered. Some are being earnestly dis-
tain teachers by granting certificates of cussed in the educational world to-day,
professional standing. while others are mere suggestions. But

Mr. Gowing closed by saying that the vital as these questions are, and may

state association can best help itself by be, they depend upon something more

helping others ; and that its one con- vital, the moral power, the scholarship,

stant aim and purpose should be to im- the training of the teacher. All these

prove the schools of the state. must be the possession of the twentieth

This speaker was followed by century teacher.

L. Walter Sargent, supervisor of draw- The last period of the afternoon was

ing. North Grafton, Mass., whose sub- occupied by State Superintendent Gow-

ject was " Drawing." ing, who spoke upon " How can Teach-

He claimed that drawing is a prac- ers best Prepare Themselves for State

tical study, since those studies are prac- Examinations 1 "

tical which make life richer. The speaker stated that thirty-nine

ED UCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

129

took the examination last June, and that
eighteen of these were granted certifi-
cates.

He said that the syllabi sent out last
spring were prepared with a great deal
of care, and explain, as clearly as the
English language can, the requirements.

Extensive study was recommended
on the professional side and intensive
on the scholastic. Teachers should
have both breadth and accuracy.

Questions in such studies as arith-
metic will be upon methods of present-
ing certain subjects as well as upon
thesubjects themselves.

He advised teachers to study in
groups, and each teacher to prepare
written matter. This should be short,
ten lines upon a given topic. In pre-
paring written work it is well to prune
and beautify. In this way the writer
secures facility in expressing himself.

The speaker said that it is his sincere
desire that every teacher in the state
shall possess a certificate. He hopes
teachers who have been long in the
field may take the examination because
of their loyalty to the profession, if for
no other reason.

FRIDAY EVENING.

President William J. Tucker ad-
dressed a large and appreciative audi-
ence upon " Modern Types of Great-
ness."

An informal reception was held at
the close of the lecture.

SATURDAY MORNING.

The association ^assembled at 9:30.
The nominating committee made the
following report : ForPresident, Charles
W. Bickford, of Manchester; vice-presi-
dent, William N. Cragin, Laconia ; sec-
retary, Clara E. Upton, Nashua ; treas-
urer, Channing Folsom, Dover; execu-
tive committee, Isaac Walker of Pem-

broke and Elizabeth Averill of Concord.
These officers were unanimously elected.
Mr. Spaulding, of Manchester, for the
committee on resolutions, offered the
following :

The members of the New Hampshire
State Teachers^ Association, appreciating
the royal reception given us at our annual
meeting at Dover, October 30 and 31, 1896,
do hereby

Resolve, That the thanks of the associa-
tion be tendered tlie mayor and his asso-
ciates for a cordial and hearty welcome, the
musical director and the children for the in-
spiring musical selections, the officers of the
association for the excellent programme, and
especially Superintendent Channing Folsom
and the teachers of Dover, who have so gen-
erously contributed to the expenses of the
meeting, so kindly received and hospitably
entertained us.

Firmly believing that the New Hampshire
State Teachers' association has a mission,
we do further

Resolve, That the plan of collecting the
fees for membership in advance of the meet-
ing is approved. And,

That the teachers of the state are urged
to respond to the notification of the treas-
urer, to the end that the officers of the asso-
ciation may know their resources when mak-
ing a programme for the annual meeting.

Acknowledging the results accomplished
by our present educational system, realizing
that the education of her youth is a protec-
tive policy on the part of the state, and the
need of more advanced educational legisla-
tion, we do further

Resolve, That we endorse the intelligent
eflforts of the legislative committee of this
association. That we commend the ener-
getic and well directed labors of State Super-
intendent Fred Gowing in advancing the
professional standing and the training of the
teachers.

That we regret the attitude of a state ad-
ministration wiiich fiiils to pass educational
appropriations as a first step in retrench-
ment.

I30

ED UCA TIONAL DEBAR TMENT.

That we recommend the consideration at
the next session of the legislature of meas-
ures regarding state aid to the public
schools, a longer required term of attend-
ance, and more stringent truancy laws.

That the suggestions of State Superin-
tendent Fred Gowing, relating to a unifica-
tion of the educational organizations of the
state, meet with the approval of this associa-
tion, and that a committee be appointed at
this meeting to take into consideration a
plan of carrying into effect the ideas ad-
vanced, and we recommend a more cordial
and active cooperation on the part of teach-
ers to the end that opportunities for educa-
tion to all our youth may be equally enjoyed.
[Signed] F. L. Spauldixg, Chairman,

For the Committee.

These resolutions were adopted, and
a committee was appointed to consider
the suggestions of Superintendent Gow-
ing, relative to the unification of the
educational organizations of the state.
The committee consists of the follow-
ing members : State Superintendent
Gowing of Nashua, Superintendent Fol-
som of Dover, Superintendent Simpson
of Portsmouth, Mr. F. L. Sutcliffe of
Manchester, Mr. Tucker of Laconia,
Miss Peirce of Portsmouth, and Miss
Snell of Plymouth.

The committee is to report at the
next meeting.

President Tucker then presented the
following resolution:.

Resolved, That a committee of seven be
appointed to consider the question of prep-
aration for the scientific schools and for the
scientific course in the colleges, to report at
the next meeting of the association.

The resolution was adopted and the
following committee appointed by the
chair: Chairman, President William J.
Tucker, Hanover; President Charles S.
Murkland, Durham ; John F. Kent, Con-
cord ; Lemuel S. Hastings, Nashua ; Mr.

Morrison, Milford ; W. H. Cummings,
Meriden ; E. H. Lord, Wolfeborough.

The treasurer, Mr. W. N. Cragin, re-
ported a cash balance of $138.87 in the
treasury.

Mr. Folsom said that as there had
been no session of the legislature since
our last meeting, the legislative com-
mittee had no report to make.

Mr. Gowing moved that the same
committee be continued in office. It
was so voted.

After the business meeting Mr. G. T.
Fletcher, of Northampton, Mass., agent
of the Massachusetts State Board of
Education, addressed the convention
upon " Rural Schools."

Mr. Fletcher spoke of the rural
schools of the past and of the powerful
influence they had in forming the na-
tion. He referred to the decrease of
population in the rural districts, and
urged the necessity of state aid. He
advocated the combination of small
schoolsand need of skilled supervision.
He concluded by saying that it is the
duty of the state to see that none living
amid its mountains, forests, and fields
lack the best educational advantages
the state can give.

The last topic was " Desirable Educa-
tional Legislation." The discussion
was opened by Superintendent Folsom
of Dover.

Mr. Folsom spoke of what was accom-
plished at the last session of the legis-
lature, and said he looked upon this as
a long step toward improving rural
schools. He urged the necessity of
state aid, a more just distribution of the
literary fund than is obtained under the
present law, and minimum school year.

Mr. Folsom introduced Professor
J. W. Sanborn, who pleaded the cause
of the rural schools, and gave statistics
to show that the products per acre are

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

131

measured by the intelligence of tlie
people.

Dr. Harris of Keene spoke on
" Compulsory Attendance." He said
that people in his part of the state de-
sired a longer school year, and are able
to pay more than they are now paying.
He believes that parents should be
made to see that their children enjoy
the privileges they are supposed to.
Laws in regard to the employment of
children should be strengthened and
enforced, as should the truancy laws.
New Hampshire has no law fixing the
minimum length of the school year.
Such a law should be enacted.

Superintendent Simpson of Ports-
mouth followed, speaking upon " School
Buildings." He said these were con-
structed oftentimes without method, and
that it would be well if plans were sub-
mitted to the state department for sug-
gestions. Every means should betaken
to keep school buildings in a cleanly and
healthy condition, in order that the best
results may be secured.

School boards of cities should have

control of school buildings. Such a
law was passed at the last session of
the legislature, but was vetoed. This
should be represented to the coming
legislature.

The last speaker was W. N. Cragin,
of Laconia, who spoke on "Truancy
and Desirable Truant Legislation."

He called attention to the fact that
the law which gives the towns the right
to make by-laws regarding truancy is
not compulsory, and expressed his be-
lief that but few towns avail themselves
of the right. He urged that the law be
made compulsory ; and that towns be
required to appoint a truant officer. He
advocated truant or parental schools
separate from the industrial school and
its atmosphere of crime, for the educa-
tion and reform of children unfit to be
in the ordinary public school. He
claimed that it is for the interest of the
state to reform these children before
they have actually become criminals.

The convention then adjourned.

It is estimated that between seven
and eight hundred were present.

" '^,//M \ _

HORATIO HALE.

Monday, December 28, 1896, Horatio Hale, the ethnologist, died at his home
in Clinton, Ont. He was born in Newport, May 3, 1817. He was the son of the
well-known author, Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale. On graduating from Harvard, in
1837, he was appointed philologist of the United States exploring expedition
under Captain Charles Wilkes, and was thus enabled to study a large number of
languages of the tribes of the Pacific Islands, as well as of North and South
America, Australia, and Africa. His investigations of the history, traditions, and
customs of the various tribes form the seventh volume of the expedition reports,
and are spoken of by Dr. Robert G. Latham, the English philologist, as compris-
ing the greatest mass of philological data ever accumulated by a single inquirer.
On the completion of this work he spent some years in travel and in literary and
scientific studies, both in Europe and in the United States. Subsequently he
studied law, and was admitted to the bar in Chicago. In 1856 he removed to
Clinton, Ont., where he devoted his time in part to the practice of his profession,
and in part to scientific pursuits. He was a member of many learned societies,
both in Europe and in America. In 1886, as vice-president of .the American
Association for the Advancement of Science, he presided over the section of
anthropology. Among his noted works are : " The Origin of Language, and
Antiquity of Speaking Man," " Indian Migration as Evidenced by Language,"
" The Iroquois Book of Rites," and a " Report on the Blackfoot Tribes."

CHARLES S. FIFIELD.

Charles S. Fifield, of the firm of C. S. Fifield & Co., No. 53 High street, Bos-
ton, died at Waverly, Mass., January 21, aged 53 years, after a lingering illness.
He was widely known among the boot and shoe trade as the inventor and manu-
facturer of machinery for making boots and shoes. He was born in Belmont, and
at an early age learned the trade of a machinist at Manchester. After serving his
time, he, in connection with his brother, established a general machine business
at Waltham, Mass. After a few years they were burned out, and he removed to
Boston. There he formed a partnership with C. H. Morse, and devoted his atten-
tion to manufacturing and selling boot and shoe machinery. Mr. Fifield resided
in Revere, and was one of the largest real estate owners in that town,

JONATHAN BLANCHARD,

Jonathan Blanchard, one of the oldest residents of Haverhill, Mass,, died De-
cember 26, 1896. He was born February 27, 1810, at Nashua, and came to
Haverhill early in the thirties. He was for many years a successful shoe manu-
facturer, but retired from active pursuits fifteen years ago.

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 133

ISAAC S. MORSE.

Isaac S. Morse, one of the oldest and most favorably known lawyers at the
Massachusetts bar, died at Boston, December 27, 1896, at the age of 80 years.
He was born in Haverhill in 18 16, the son of Bryan Morse, a noted physician,
and was educated at Dartmouth, graduating in 1857. He went to Massachusetts
almost immediately and studied law, being admitted to the bar on the same day
as General B. F. Butler. For eighteen years he was district attorney of Middle-
sex county.

WYZEMAN MARSHALL.

Wyzeman Marshall, widely known as a player of the old school, manager and
dramatic reader, was born in Hudson on September 26, 1816. He went to Bos-
ton with his parents when he was 8 years old. When 19 years old he made his
first appearance at the Lion Theatre, taking the part of Vibulanus in " Virginius."
The next autumn he became a member of the stock company of the old National
Theatre, Boston. There he remained for several seasons, steadily advancing,
until in 1839 he made his first appearance as manager, and in 1840 he opened a
theatre of his own in that city, the Vaudeville Saloon, which proved successful.
During the next two seasons he was again at the National, but in 1842 opened
the Amphitheatre. Later he starred in the British provinces, and after two sea-
sons in Philadelphia as acting and stage manager at the Arch Street Theatre he
starred in Baltimore, Washington, Albany, and New York, meeting with great suc-
cess. In the autumn of 185 1 he returned to Boston and assumed the manage-
ment of the Howard Athenaeum for the season of i85i-'52. In February, 1863,
he took the Boston Theatre, then in a bad way financially, and made a success of
it. He retired in 1864 and devoted himself to teaching elocution and fitting
pupils for the stage. For the last ten or twelve years Mr. Marshall had been in
poor health and he died on Christmas day, 1896.

ALFRED L. TUBES.

A. L. Tubbs, president of the Tubbs Cordage Company, who died at San Fran-
cisco, December 26, 1896, and who had been identified with many of California's
most noted commercial institutions, was born in Deering in 1827, and voyaged to
California in 1849. Mr. Tubbs had served in the legislature and made an honor-
able record.

BENJAMIN L. CULVER.

Benjamin Lyman Culver died at Suncook, December 6, 1896. He was born
in Norwich, Vt., 67 years ago, and in 1856 engaged in business as a photographer
at Suncook. Later* he went into the millinery and fancy goods trade. He was
prominent in secret societies and one of the most esteemed residents of Suncook.

HENRY A. BUELL.

H. A. Buell, head of the wholesale grocery firm of H. A. Buell & Company of
Lawrence, Mass., died December 27, 1896. He was born at Newport, in 1839,
and came to Lawrence about 186 1, where he became a member of the firm of
Eastman & Buell. Later he formed the present firm, which was the largest in the
city.

134 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

SAMUEL M. YOUNG.

Samuel M. Young, the oldest railroad director in the world, died at Toledo,
January i, in his 93d year. The deceased went there nearly three-quarters of a
century ago from Lebanon, where he was born. The late Chief Justice Waite was
a law student in Mr. Young's office and received his first legal training under his
direction. Mr. Young was also president of the Toledo National bank for a quar-
ter of a century. He was one of the projectors of the Cleveland-Toledo railroad,
now the Lake Shore. In late years he helped to build the Columbus, Hocking
Valley and Toledo railroad. Mr. Young also built a number of grain elevators,
and for years was the leading grain dealer, railroad builder, banker and capitalist
of Toledo. He abandoned the practice of law in i860, and from that time to
1895 devoted his energies to business enterprises. The deceased leaves a large
fortune to be divided among his three children.

JOHN T. SPOFFORD.

John T. Spofford, for 32 years Manchester's assistant postmaster, died in that
city January 23. He was born in Londonderry, April 29, 182 1, and went to Man-
chester at the age of 21. He was appointed to a position in the post-office
July 19, 1862, and served continuously until May 11, 1894.

NATHAN G. WOODBURY.

Nathan G. Woodbury, one of the most extensive pail manufacturers in New
England, died at Keene December 28, 1896. He was born at Rindge April 16,
1823, and when 24 years of age began business life as the proprietor of a sawmill
at Richmond. In 1870 he returned to Keene, where at the time of his death he
owned three large and fully equipped pail factories. His business methods were
unique, in that he kept no books, but they were highly successful.

DR. WnXIAM T. MERRILL.

Dr. William T. Merrill, one of the most wealthy and prominent citizens of
Hampton, died in that town January 22, aged 73 years. He was a native of
Hampton Falls, but since 1854 had practised medicine in Hampton. He was,
for a long time, president and treasurer of the Hampton school board and had
been a trustee of Hampton academy since 1861. He founded the town's public
library, built the largest public block there, and had done much in general to pro-
mote Hampton's interests. He was an especially zealous advocate of temperance.

DANIEL R. HENDERSON.

Daniel Rodney Henderson was born in Francestown August 22, 1863, and
died in that town December 26, 1896. He lost his hands by a premature explo-
sion in 1886, and the plucky and ingenious manner in which he conquered his
misfortune won the admiration of the whole state. He was a justice of the peace
and a deputy sheriff, served as doorkeeper of the New Hampshire house of repre-
sentatives in 1893 and 1895, ^"^ would have been sergeant-at-arms in 1897 but
for his death.

Color Stand, Sixteenth N. H. Vols.

The Granite Monthly.

Vol.. xxn.

MARCH, 1897.

No.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT, NEW HAMP-
SHIRE VOLUNTEERS.

By Adjutant Luther Tracy Towiisend.

CHAPTER VI.
FIRST ADVANCE ON PORT HUDSON.

This appeal accomplished its] pur-
pose, and our regiment a few days
later was provided with yoxy good
muskets, some of them having a cal-
iber of fifty-seven, others fifty-eight.
On the morning of March 5, we were
under orders to move quickl}', but as
usual were kept waiting all day and
until eleven o'clock at night before
the order to fall into line reached us.
The remainder of the night was
passed in moving from our encamp-
ment to the transport General Banks.
Before this work was completed the
rain was pouring in torrents. Am-
munition, camp equipage, forage,
and lumber were hurried, almost
thrown, on board in dire and sicken-
ing confusion. There were farther
delaj'S, and not until past ten o'clock
the next day did the steamer head up
the river, to what place no one ex-
cept the officers of the boat knew.
Twelve hours later, the boat, owing
to a dense fog, tied up for the night,
and our regiment detailed pickets to

UR regiment had been in
Louisiana since the last
of December, 1862; the
month of March, 1863,
was upon us and we
had not yoX. seen an armed Confed-
erate soldier, nor were we equipped
to meet the enemy had he appeared.
We were still carrying the old mus-
kets that were brought with us from
Concord, caliber sixty-nine. The
adjutant, who, in addition to other
duties, recently had been made, by
a general order, ordnance-officer of
the regiment, was brought into more
than one controversy with superior
staff officers on the question wdiether
we were to be sent to the front with
these out-of-date and cumbersome
arms. The adjutant "protested and
appealed in vain to the ordnance-
officers of the department, and at
last broke through all red tape and
made a personal appeal to General
Emory, who, quite to the adjutant's
surprise, received him graciously.

136 HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

patrol and guard the shore against a ciless order ; why load the men down

possible attack. The fog lifted in with this weight of ammunition when

the early morning, March 7. Our there were plent}' of mules in the de-

pickets were called in, and we had partment ?

for the most part a comfortable and It should be borne in mind also

pleasant day on the Mississippi. that the soldier, in addition to rations

Our transport reached Baton Rouge and ammunition, has his canteen of

at dark, and we received orders to water, his plate, dipper, knife, fork,

be in readiness to disembark at a and spoon, his towel, soap, woolen

moment's notice. The order that and rubber blankets, overcoat, gun,

next reached us was not to disem- and other accoutrements to carry,

bark at that point, but a mile or At the hour designated we were in

more down the river. The transport readiness to move, but as before there

dropped down to the point desig- were vexatious delays. We waited

nated, where we disembarked and all day for more specific orders, and

bivouacked. in the evening received word that

The one who gave this order either probablj' we should not march until
could not have known where he was the next morning. The morning
sending us or else he must have in- dawned amid a heavy rain, showers
tended harm, for it was a villainous continuing all the day, and still,
place. It was a swamp with so much though unprotected, we were kept
underbrush, rotten wood, and de- waiting. We presume that no sol-
cayed vegetable matter that early in dier will dispute the statement that
the day the boys very appropriately delays like these amid great discom-
named the place " Camp Dunghill." fort, wear men out faster than vigor-
It was a sort of outpost, beyond any ous movement, even into the heart of
lines previously occupied by our the enemy's country,
forces, and was supposed to be in The night of the tenth was pas.sed
close proximit}' to the enem3''s pick- like the night before. Another day
ets. The first night there we slept came and went as the others, under
without tents, under an open sky, on orders to march, but still no march-
soft beds of mud and swamp grass, ing and no suitable protection against
with only a blanket for protection our uncomfortable exposures,
and mosquitoes, lizards, and snakes The morning of the twelfth found
for companions. us still on the ground of our mis-

On the next morning, the ninth, erable encampment in readiness to
about daylight we received orders to march, and still we were kept until
provide ourselves with three days' five o'clock of the afternoon of the
rations, which was no very easy next day before any specific order to
thing to do, and a hundred rounds of move reached us. It then came in
ammunition. Forty rounds were this form,— " You will march in ten
placed in the cartridge-boxes, which minutes." We innnediateh' formed
was their full capacity, and the rest in line, but waited until dark before
was distributed in haversacks, pock- any move was made,
ets, and knapsacks. This seemed to Is it surprising, after these re-
us then, and seen;s to us still, a mer- peated experiences, that our men be-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

gan to have their confidence shaken
in the executive abilitj' of our supe-
rior officers, or in the thorough or-
ganization of our army corps ? Noth-
ing ever seemed to be done at the
time designated. And thus early in
our experience we reached the un-
military conchision that an order to
move to-day meant to-morrow or the
day after.

Much to our relief, and after the
stars were out, on the evening of the
thirteenth, we found ourselves in
motion for somewhere .

The march was first through Baton
Rouge and then on for six miles from
that city towards Port Hudson, where
we pitched our shelter tents, turning
in about midnight.

During this advance the following
was the order of march : General
Grover's division, consisting of five
brigades, took the lead ; General
Emory, having three brigades, fol-
lowed ; and General Auger with
four brigades brought up the rear,
affording support and protection for
several batteries and for ammuni-
tion, forage and subsistence wagons,
ambulances, and other army appen-
dages.

The Sixteenth regiment was in
Emory's division and was brigaded
with the One Hundred and Tenth
New York, the One Hundred and
Sixty-second New York and Fourth
Massachusetts, Colonel Ingraham
of the Thirty-eighth Massachusetts
commanding the brigade.

General Emory was in command of
our division, having under him in all
twelve regiments.

A little past three o'clock on the
morning of March 14, our division
was ordered into line, and there we
vStood or sat or laid down on the

ground until seven o'clock, when
the familiar orders, "Attention, bat-
talion ! Shoulder arms ! By the right
of companies into column, forward
march ! " were given and obeyed.

At eight o'clock, we were halted
for breakfast. The rations issued
consisted of half-cooked and not half-
freshened salt beef, hardtack, and
coffee. Rations of such issue some-
times led our men to appear before
the quartermaster's quarters in the
guise of serenaders. The quarter-
master must not be held responsible
personally for the poor rations is-
sued : he was a victim of circum-
stances. This was the principal
song indulged in on such occasions :

" Old horse, old horse, how came j-ou here?
You ploughed this earth for many a year ;
You 've lived alone for man's abuse.
Now salted down for soldiers' use."

We ought to say, however, that some
of us, on the morning in question,
had for breakfast fresh beef, chick-
ens, and turke)^ which our skilful
pickets who were well versed in the
principles of international martial
law, had captured the night before
and brought into camp.

Between nine and ten o'clock
General Banks and his staff, on their
way to the front, passed us, recei\--
ing cheer upon cheer given with
such enthusiasm that the general
must have been thoroughl}' gratified.
We were at that hour about twelve
miles from Port Hudson. The line
of march was continued over a dust}'
road and under a hot sun, with a halt
of ten minutes ever}' hour until three
o'clock in the afternoon, at which
time we were within, perhaps, four
miles of Port Hudson. Here we
were ordered to encamp for the re-
mainder of the dav.

138

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

Our men, as usual, had an eye to
business and comfort. There were
sheep and young cattle in the fields
near by, and there were butchers and
meat dealers in our regiment. There
were men, too, who could build fires
and cook meat, and all our men were
by this time, as already suggested,
lawyers enough to know what ought
to be done when in an enemy's coun-
try. The only barrier in the way of
this business at that time was an ex-
plicit order not to forage and not to
take any live stock. The adjutant's
writing materials had been misplaced
by the sergeant-major or some one
else, and, in consequence, valuable
time was lost before copies of the
order could be issued to the several
companies. The officers, meanwhile,
were viewing with conflicting and
apparently distracting emotions the
vandalism going on. At length the
orders were ready and issued. All
foraging ceased immediately, but, as
if Providence had taken a hand in
favoring us, there was a store of meat
at our disposal sufficient to last the
regiment a half week at least, nor
was there anything left in sight on
which to forage.

Towards the night of this same
day, April 14, word was passed to
our headquarters that ten thousand of
the enemy were moving out of Port
Hudson to make an attack on our
lines. Let them come ! was the feel-
ing of most of our men though we
did not, perhaps, realize fully what
such a movement might mean for us.
Still, we had become so thoroughly
tired of the humdrum of a soldier's
life in camp, such as we had been
leading, that we thought anything
for a change would be for the better.
Soon after dark we were ordered to

strike tents and be in line in five
minutes. This was done. A few
minutes later a counter order came to
break ranks, but to be ready to re-
form again on short notice. What
did all this hubbub mean ? Nobody
seemed able to say. Perhaps it was a
part of our discipline. Perhaps, too,
the trouble with us was that we
wanted to know all the inside plans
of the campaign, nor could we under-
stand why General Banks did not
take each one of us into his confi-
dence.

After the last order reached us we
waited a little time to ascertain what
might come next. But as no new
move seemed contemplated for the
immediate present, we proceeded to
make ourselves as comfortable as
possible for the night.

During the afternoon and evening
there had been considerable irregular
firing by Admiral Farragut's fleet on
Port Hudson, which, however, was
not sufficiently disturbing to alarm or
keep us awake. But at ten o'clock in
the evening began as tremendous and
magnificent a cannonade as ever was
heard by mortals. Hundreds of guns
were flashing their lightning into
the darkness ; columbiads, howitzers,
rifled pieces of all calibres, were
belching forth their thunders from
both fleet and fort ; mortars were
filling the air with their shells, whose
graceful curves could be traced by
the trails of fire that followed them
till the moment of explosion.

At this juncture, we were again
ordered into line of battle. The
hours that followed were of intensest
excitement and interest. Ivxpecting
momentarily an attack, we waited
and watched the progress of the fight
between the warships and Port Hud-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

139

son. Not long after one o'clock the
next morning, April 15, a light of
considerable brightness was seen in
the direction of Port Hudson. Our
first thought was that the inflamma-
ble buildings of that fortress had
been fired by the shells of our fleet ;
but as early as three o'clock the light
was seen to be moving down the
river towards the position we then
held. The cannonade still continued,
though less heavy than before, and
was approaching nearer and nearer.
A fierce fight, as it seemed, was going
on. Our fleet was retiring; the ene-
my was following it down and fight-
ing it. We were sure of all this. We
could hear the discharge of musketry
and other small arms ; shells were in
frequent explosion. There would be,
as it seemed, an occasional broadside.
The brilliancy of the light was con-
stantly on the increase. The fight-
ing, apparently, was not much farther
than a mile or two from the extreme
left of our line, though hidden by a
belt of trees that skirted the river.
The excitement and anxiety among
our troops, on the increase from the
start, had almost reached fever heat.
The next move of the Confederates,
and before morning, perhaps, would
be in our rear, and our retreat easily
and certainly would be cut off. In
this excited state we .stood in line
until a little past five o'clock in the
morning. At that hour, while ever}^
eye was watching the supposed fight,
there was first a deep, lurid flash of
light, then a glare* and brilliancy
something like a distant flash of
lightning ; then there was the flying
into the air of dark masses of plank-
ing and timbers, followed by a dis-
mal, heavy boom that made the earth
tremble ; the atmosphere seemed to

strike us as wuth a blow that quite
stopped the breath. Then there was
silence, and after that the gray of
early morning filled the sk}'. What
did it all mean ? A part of the fleet
certainly must have met disaster.

Withdrawing our eyes from what
had been riveting them for hours, we
began looking into one another's
faces. There were sick faces, for
some of our boys had been eating,
the evening before, too freely of fresh
killed mutton that had been less than
half cooked and was eaten without
either pepper or salt ; there were
tired faces, and faces with blood.shot
eyes, but they w^ere resolute faces,
more ready that morning to meet the
enem}^ we expected to appear any mo-
ment or more ready to move against
the enemy's strong citadel at Port
Hudson, if need be, than to go back
to the filthy camp at Baton Rouge
or to "Camp Death " at Carrollton.

Of an attack we felt certain,
whether in the front by fresh troops
from Port Hudson, or in the rear
by the troops that we supposed had
passed down the river during the
night, we could not tell.

As late as nine o'clock that morn-
ing, word was passed quietly along
the line that an attack was imminent
any moment. Had the attack come
from the south, as seemed most likely,
our regiment was in the most exposed
position as will be seen b)^ the accom-
panying diagram, which also indicates
the position of regiments nearest us.

Not far from ten o'clock, our bri-
gade was called to listen to the read-
ing of an order by Colonel Ingraham.
wdaich was to the effect that ' ' the ob-
ject of the expedition had been ac-
complished," a phrase that afterward
became a byword among the troops

I40

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

JOO-"^

HUD^Of^

+ ^ <t'

•«

+ o°

>'•

16 N.H,

whenever a movement of any con-
siderable magnitude was made that
resulted in nothing, or next to noth-
ing, like the famous ' ' march up the
hill and down again." The "object
of the expedition " subsequently was
more fully explained as being a
demonstration on our part against
Port Hudson to aid the fleet in pass-
ing its batteries.

The announcement of Colonel In-
graham was in every way reassuring
to our troops, but we could not see
that the land forces had contributed
in any considerable measure to what
had been accomplished. We had
not fired a shot that reached the fort,
nor had we seen an enemy except a
few scouts in the distance.

For the fleet, however, it was an
expensive victory. Only two of Far-
ragut's gunboats, the Hartford a.n6. Al-
batross, had run the batteries of Port
Hudson, while one hundred and thir-
teen of his men had been killed and
wounded, four boats of the fleet had
been disabled, and the war-ship Mis-
sissippi, which had run aground,
was set on fire, and after having been
abandoned floated down the river,
discharging meanwhile her loaded
cannon and smaller ordnance as the

flames touched them ; when the
flames reached the magazine the
final explosion, which had almost
appalled us, followed, causing the
excitement of the early morning hour.
Next came the order for our trooj^s
to retreat. The reason of this order
was not generally understood, and,
in consequence, the teamsters of the
quartermaster's department, espe-
cially those who were some distance
from the front, became panicky.
Two of the infantry brigades and a
part of the artillery that had been
well in the rear were also a good deal
disturbed, as the word reached them
that there had been fighting all
through the night, that our troops
were defeated and were in full re-
treat. The hubbub of mule teams
under such announcements, and the
swearing even of officers who were
not accustomed to swear, the anxiety
and confusion of the men in the
ranks, cannot easily be described.
And we saw with how little difficulty
a panic might be started that would
render troops quite uncontrollable.
Had the enemy really come upon us
that morning, likely enough there
would have been another famous
Bull Run disaster.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

141

Knowing that there had been no
fighting, for we were at the front, the
Sixteenth did not run, nor were we in
any haste. At midday we halted
for General Banks and staff to pass.
We were tired, faint, hungry, and
thirst)'. Our kind-hearted colonel
had been taken sick and was left by
the roadside until an ambulance was
secured for him. Our horses were
staggering with fatigue and want of
food, but we were quickly in line of
march again, and it was sunset before
we halted and pitched our tents in a
cane field for the night. This hardly
had been done before a terrific trop-
ical and typical Southern thunder
storm fell upon us. Our cooking
fires, which had just been lighted,
were quickly extinguished. Our
shelter tents were torn from their
fastenings and trailed in the mud,
and the wear}^ hungry troops were
left without protection from the tor-
rents of rain falling upon them ; the
jnen stood it bravely, though won-
dering what would come next.

At length the shower ceased, al-
most as quickly as it had come upon
us ; fires from fence rails were again
built ; poor rations were distributed
and ditch water was our beverage.
Later, the rain commenced anew,
and when we laid down, some time
between nine and ten o'clock at
night, we had from two to four inches
of water under us, and, though it
may appear strange to others but not
to soldiers, we slept the sleep of the
righteous and we skpt it soundly till
break of day.

March 17 was a day of rest so far
as active campaigning was con-
cerned ; but before the morning
hours were passed our boys had
dried their clothing, found a spring

of pure water, made several other
observations, and began the familiar
game of confiscation.

The most important find during
the day will have to be accredited to
our neighbors, the pickets of the
One Hundred and Tenth New York,
who were posted just beyond our left
flank. On the other side of this picket
line, not far away but behind a belt
of trees, were two storehouses well
filled with sugar and molasses. The
guards had been posted to prevent
raids in that direction, but under
pretext of going to the spring for
water the boys in twos appeared be-
fore the guard with flasks and haver-
sacks ; the}' winked. The situation
was taken in and the guard winked
back, and received their paj^ a little
later in sugar and molasses. Before
three o'clock nearly every man in the
Sixteenth and in the One Hundred
and Tenth New York had been well
supplied with the products of these
storehouses.

Later in the afternoon a detach-
ment was ordered out to arrest any
soldiers who were found in the sugar
house or coming from it with sugar
or molasses on their person. Sev-
eral belated men were arrested and
marched into camp. But as they
passed through the files of spectators,
most of them by dexterous move-
ments backed into openings made for
them and in turn became innocent
spectators, so that by the time the
guard-house was reached nearly all
the prisoners had disappeared. The
officers were too bus}' at that time to
inquire into this unsoldierlike be-
havior of both the guards and men.

It may be remarked in passing that
for our afternoon dinner we had that
day fresh mutton, stewed chicken.

142

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

and hardtack served in about four-
teen different styles. We also had
sweet potatoes taken from a field
near by, and for our tea and coffee
we had fresh milk from cows that
were grazing in the field. This need
occasion no surprise, for not a few of
our boys understood the fine art of
coaxing a strange cow to stand while
the last drop of milk is taken from her.
There is scarcely need of saying that
we had sugar in quantity for our tea
and coffee, and sugar or molasses, as
we chose, for our hardtack.

Having feasted, we prepared for the
night, repitching our soiled shelter
tents and making our beds out of
fence rails, corn husks, and oat

straw. About nine o'clock we turned
in, having clear consciences and
wdth a prospect of sound and unin-
terrupted sleep for the night.

But such expectations of the sol-
dier are not always realized. At two
o'clock the next morning the adju-
tant was roused from sleep and or-
dered to detail a lieutenant to act as
quartermaster. At a little after three
o'clock he was again called to send
the regiment to the quartermaster
for rations, and shortly before five
o'clock he received orders to have
the regiment strike tents without a
moment's dela}', as another advance
toward Port Hudson was in pros-
pect.

CHAPTER yil.

A MUD :\rARCH UNPARAIvI^EIvED DX'RING THE WAR.

HE heading of this chap-
ter certainly is a bold
one, but it is written
without hesitation, and
in full knowledge of the
celebrated mud march of General
Burnside, and of others scarcely
less difhcult, that were made in the
Peninsular campaign and elsewhere
during the war.

It was w^hile on one of the Penin-
sular mud marches that a soldier com-
posed the following revised version of
a familiar prayer, the fitness or point
of which our men, after making the
march we are now to describe, had
no difficulty in appreciating :

" Now I lay me down to sleep,
In mud that 's many fathoms deep ;
If I 'm not here when you awake,
Please hunt me up with an oyster rake."

The morning of March 17 was de-
lightfully ushered in with the mild

breath of early spring. The forests
surrounding our temporary encamp-
ment were rich in foliage, and the
songs from a thousand birds added
to the charm of the hour. In com-
pliance with orders issued the night
before, we were astir early, having
been in readiness to fall into line
since about five o'clock in the morn-
ing. But as usual, hour after hour
passed, and still there was no specific
order to move. The sun meanwhile
became blistering hot. It was a little
past the hour of noon, and while
some of the boys were napping, hav-
ing neglected to eat their noon ra-
tions, that the order came, "Fall in
immediately," and quite to our sur-
prise and almost in fewer minutes
than it takes us to narrate it, we had
formed our line, broken by "right
face" into "fours," and were mov-
ing quick time towards the enemy.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

143

There were indications that the
Confederate troops from Port Hud-
son, having learned of our retreat
two days before, had begun a move
either to intercept or attack us. Our
regiment, together with the Fourth
Massachusetts and four companies of
the One Hundred and Tenth New
York, were sent over one road to-
wards Port Hudson, and two bri-
gades over another, either to recon-
noitre or to hold in check the Con-
federates, if they really were advanc-
ing against us, until the main body
of our troops could be brought into
position to meet them. That we
were sent to reconnoitre seems the
more probable.

This movement tested the metal of
the Sixteenth more, perhaps, than
an}' other we had made. The mud
was still sticky under our feet, and
the sun was blazing hot over our
heads. Our men, under the rapid
advance, began to stagger ; thej^
dared not "fall out," for in that
case they would be left in a desert-
ed and desolate region, and likely
enough all such stragglers speedily
would fall into the hands of the
enemy.

Soon the men began to lighten
themselves of the loads they were car-
rying. First large supplies of sugar
were thrown awa3^ For a distance of
a mile or more those in the rear hardly
could step except on sugar mixed with
mud. Haversack after haversack was
emptied of that for which the boys,
with a measure of peril, had run the
guard the day before. Next, the
men cast away their blankets, their
shelter tents, and their knapsacks.

How could they do otherwise?
Many of them were more than half
sick, and nearly all were debilitated.

Nor was there an ambulance, or so
much as an army wagon, provided
for this expedition.

It will be remembered, too, that
each man had taken a hundred
rounds of ammunition. That not a
little of this, aside from what filled
the cartridge-boxes, was thrown into
the bushes and trenches by the road-
way, need occasion no surprise. Some
of the men were thoroughly indig-
nant, and felt that this surplus of
ammunition, as already suggested,
should have been carried by mules,
not by men. And what was worse,
we had been misdirected, or at least
we were led over a road with which
the guides could not have been famil-
iar. It was a roadway that appeared
to have been in use only a part of the
year, and was especially unfit during
the spring months.

If this mistake had not been made
we should have marched dry-shod
over an excellent road, and have
been spared the first instalment of
our mud experience. As it was, we
marched several miles out of our way
for no other purpose that we could
see than to go at least four miles
on a cross road through mud nearly
knee-deep. But all this was onh*
preliminar5^

There were with us up to this time
four companies of the One Hundred
Tenth New York, and the Fourth
Massachusetts, the entire detachment
being under the command of Colonel
Walker. After reaching the Clinton
road, which we should have reached
two or three hours earlier, we were
marched five or six miles further in
quick time, to make up for the time
we had lost in consequence of our
niisdirection, for which, however, we
had been in no way responsible. On

144

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

coming up to the other detachments,
we should have been allowed at least
a brief rest ; but the commanding
officers gave no heed to our request,
and, seeming to care nothing for the
plight we were in, ordered the Six-
teenth, with the four companies of
the One Hundred and Tenth New
York, Colonel Sage commanding, to
proceed without delay to the place
for which we had started by the im-
passable road we had taken on first
leaving our encampment at noon.

Whether New Hampshire and New
York troops were intentionally dis-
criminated against we cannot say, but
the Fourth Massachusetts, that had
started with us, was detached and
permitted to pitch their shelter tents
near the Clinton road. And more than
this, there were several regiments that
had marched that day scarcely more
than five miles, while we had marched
twenty, a larger part of the way being
over difficult roads, and some of the
way through mud knee-deep. And
yet, without a moment's rest, we were
ordered to proceed on a cross road
that led us into one of the most dis-
mal swamps soldiers ever were re-
quired to enter.

As we recall all these facts, the
more provoking and heartless appears
the treatment we received. We ought
to have gone into a state of rebellion
and have taken the consequences.

In confirmation in part of what we
are saying, we copy a few lines from
one of the regimental histories — that
of the Fifty-third Massachusetts —
which gives an account of their day's
work, in contrast to that of ours:

"March 17," says their historian,
"the regiment marched with two
others on a reconnoissance up the
Clinton road ; ]iroceeded five miles.

and bivouacked for the night in a
beautiful little opening in the woods,
with a brook of clear water running
through it, and surrounded with
cornus- trees in full bloom. It vvas
a charming spot where we would
fain have lingered, but we were or-
dered back the next morning, and
again the object of the expedition
was accomplished."

Why could not that regiment, or
some other one equally favored, have
plunged into the swamp, and we
have been allowed to bivouac for the
night or at least for a few hours
in that "beautiful little opening"?
Somebody certainly was pig-headed,
bull-headed, thick-headed, or some-
thing else of the sort.

The accompanying diagram will
giye the reader an idea of what we
have been saying.

The cane field, where we were en-
camped and from which we started,
was at the point marked by an obelisk
[t] . We filed to the left, following up
the river to the point marked by the
single star [*]. Here we filed to the
right, going through two feet of mud
a part of the way to the point marked
by two stars [**]. Thence we were
hurried on to the point marked by a
circle [o]. At this place were several
regiments, among them the Fifty-third
Massachusetts, that had marched only
five miles, that is, from the two stars
to a point this side of the circle.
Here also the Fourth Massachusetts
was detached and allowed to rest.
The Sixteenth and the four compa-
nies of the One Hundred and Tenth
New York then proceeded towards
the point marked by the square [ CI ] ,
the New York companies .stopping at
a point indicated by the circle with a
dot in the centre [O], while our regi-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

145

ment proceeded to the point indicated ous and dense trees extending nearly

by the square [□]. In the space be-
tween the circle [o] and the square
[ □ ] were two bayous of considerable
size and several small ones, also a
cypress swamp, skirted with ponder-

the entire distance between the two
points indicated.

vSoon after our start on this march,
and before we had reached the
swamp, at a point indicated on the

146

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

diagram hy two small circles [00],
our regiment was suddenl}' halted.
The orders. " Halt ! " " Music to the
rear ! " " IvOad at will ! " " Compaii}'
A, deplo}' ! " were given in rapid suc-
cession by our cool and courageous
Ivieutenant-Colonel Fuller, who was
then in command. The company
officers could be heard cautioning
their men in somewhat authoritative
tones, thus : "Steady, boys." "Keep
cool." "Load carefully." The load-
ing was quickly done and the guns
were brought into position for the
"Ready!" "Aim!" "Fire." Had
the enemy really appeared, our regi-
ment would have fought that night
like veterans. We were just cross,
out of sorts, and desperate enough
to fight any body of troops coming
against us. Death seemed to have
no terrors. These orders had been
given to meet, as we had reason to
suppose, a cavalry raid of the Con-
federates. The scare was caused,
however, by a small body of Federal
cavalry returning from an attempt to
discover the position and strength of
the enemy at the north of us. With-
out stopping, this cavalr}- company
moved back to the Clinton road, leav-
ing us to scout and patrol for our-
selves. It was afterwards learned that
fifteen hundred Confederates were at
that hour slowly moving towards the
position we then held. We did not
know anything of our danger, how-
ever, and a little later resumed our
march. The flashing eye and nerve
of our boys seen a few minutes before
when a fight was in prospect, soon
gave place to half-closed eyes, bent
shoulders, and that long, loping pace
that characterizes thoroughly tired
men. The remainder of this march
almost beggars description. l"<very

now and then some of the men
would stumble and fall, and were
so exhausted by what they alread}'
had endured that they were unable
to rise without help. The shoes of
many of the men, filled with water
and mud, became so embedded that
after repeated and ineffectual efforts
to extricate them, were left behind,
and the men continue to stagger on
in their stocking-feet.

The horses of the officers were
loaded with the guns and knapsacks
of the fainting men, and though
thus relieved several of our over-
taxed comrades dropped out of the
ranks, found some knoll and sank
upon it apparently indifferent whether
they should sleep till morning, fall
into the hands of the enemy, or meet
death in that lonely place.

Those of us who had strength
continued the march through this
swamp .and its bayous whose waters
in places reached nearly to the arm-
pits of the shorter men, and we found
ourselves, a few minutes before nine
o'clock in the evening, at the place
for which we had .started nine hours
before. Under a partly clouded skj-
we broke ranks and expected to biv-
ouac there till morning.

As precautionary measures no fires
were lighted, no conversation per-
mitted save in whispers, and no com-
mands given except in undertones.
The pickets were well posted ; head-
quarters were in an open field b}' the
roadside ; and silence reigned. Those
who were not assigned to guard
dut}', wet and covered with mud,
gnawing a little hardtack to keep soul
and body together, threw themselves
in great disorder upon the ground for
such rest as they could get.

Scarcelv more than an hour could

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

147

have passed after we had taken our
position for the night when a man
was guided to headquarters, who, in
a quiet and perfectly self-possessed
way, made these statements: "The
Confederates are near you and are
advancing. General Dwight, who
has reconnoitered to a point within
four miles of Port Hudson, is in full
retreat. [Dwight had gone by the
road indicated by a double dotted
line (•.•.•.■.■.•.:::;).] The regiment that has
been on your right [four companies
of the One Hundred and Tenth New
York] has been withdrawn and j'ou
ought to follow."

There were no written orders, in-
deed the man seemed to have no or-
ders from any one, and after giving
this information he disappeared as
quickly as he had come. We tried
to find him subsequently, but could
not. For aught we knew he might
have been a Confederate spy. He
should have been detained and we
ought to have been reprimanded for
not detaining him. But we were too
thoroughly used up to be efhcient
disciplinarians ; besides this the
man's manner completely disarmed
us and it was too dark to make out
his looks or uniform. Taking every-
thing into consideration, the conclu-
clusion seems valid that he was a
Confederate picket but friendl}^ to
our side, and gave us this informa-
tion that we might make good our
escape. If these are the facts, we
hereby express to 'that man, alive or
dead, our gratitude.- And if he is
still living and this stor}^ of the mud
march ever comes to his notice, we
hope he will report his name to our
regiment through the adjutant-gen-
eral of New Hampshire, or in any
other possible way.

If we are mistaken in this conjec-
ture, and if the scout was a Union
.soldier, we shall welcome 2i\\y correc-
tion of these statements.

Immediately on the departure of
this man w^e were so deeply im-
pressed by his manner and by what
he had said that the officers were
hastily summoned to headquarters
for consultation. While thus en-
gaged, one of the number reported
that a woman had been seen at the
back of a plantation house near by
giving signals with a candle. Pre-
sumably she was communicating
with Confederate troops who were
known to be in close proximity to
the position we then held.

On further investigation it was
ascertained by our pickets that the
four companies of the One Hundred
and Tenth New York actually had
been withdrawn, and that we were left
without artillery or cavalry support
and without any communication with
the other troops of our brigade, who
were four miles awaj'.

We were not long, therefore, in
reaching the conclusion that we were
on the wrong side of the swamp.
Hence, with no orders from any one,
we decided to retreat. Word was
passed as quickly as possible from
man to man, and in a half-dazed con-
dition our regiment soon was in line
of march, headed for the two bayous
and hideous swamp through which
we had just passed. We made this
move none too soon. The waters
in the first baj'ou were .slowly rising.
Our conjecture was that the Confed-
erates had turned the water of some
other bayou into this one in order, if
possible, to cut off our retreat. Then
began a repetition of what we had
experienced an hour or .so before. It

148

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

was by this time too dark to pick
our way, as at a few points we had
been able to do when w^e entered
the swamp on the other side. Our
men soon were wading in mud that
was waist-deep. Every now and
then the}^ would stumble over logs
and one another. Many of them
were too tired to utter a word ; with
bent forms and downcast ej^es they
struggled on. Some were swearing
at every mishap and others in half
prayer and half oath were saying, "O
God ! I cannot stand this any longer."
The hooting of owls and splashing of
reptiles, especially young alligators
and moccasin snakes, added gloom
to the darkness of the night. Why
some of the men were not bitten by
reptiles is more than we can tell.
When hardly knowing which way
the road led we would light a candle
or two, and, having made our obser-
vations, continue to feel our way in
the darkness, which at times was so
dense that we scarcely could see the
hand before the face. The most dis-
tressing feature of this part of the
narrative is that some of our men, as
we have reason to believe, who in
this retreat had entered this doleful
swamp never came out of it. We
were while going and returning, thus
beswamped for nearly five hours.

At a little past midnight, more
dead than alive, we crawled out of
this dismal slough and soon after
reached the Clinton road. Here we
had hoped to rest, but found that
the other troops, who had been tak-
ing their ease since mid-forenoon the
day before, already were forming in
line to retreat, the report having
reached them that an advance of the
Confederate cavalry had begun. The
Sixteenth was not given time, there-

fore, to make a cup of coffee or even
to take breath, but was ordered to
continue its march in quick time.
Some of our men, however, could not
do this and dropped in their tracks
by the roadside. Had their lives de-
pended on making this move with
the other troops they would have
remained, for a time at least, where
they had fallen.

We do not know that anj- com-
plaint or criticism should be offered
at this point, for the enemy doubtless
was following us up and the position
then occupied was a bad one, at least
an exposed one, had an attack been
made.

The march was continued for an
hour and a half more, until fairlj-
good fighting ground was reached.
A halt was ordered, the troops were
properly arranged, and there was rest
until daylight. The place assigned
to our regiment was low and swampy,
so much so that on rising at daylight
the rubber blanket under the major
and adjutant, who were bunked to-
gether, had sunk into the soft ground
and was filled with a pailful or more
of mud and water.

At this point in the narrative, we
must go back for a few moments, for
some of our comrades were left on
the other side of the swamp when
the main body of the regiment had
crossed, or were crossing it. There
were three groupings of these men.
The first grouping were the pickets
that had been stationed to the
north and east of the regiment. In
the hurry and confusion of the re-
treat the officer of the day, Lieu-
tenant (we withhold his name)

had forgotten to see that the guards
were notified and called in. One of
these guards, a private of Company

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

149

C, who was stationed nearest the
road leading to the swamp, seeing
that the regiment was on a move,
grew uneas}'. He felt there must
have been an oversight or mistake on
the part of some one, and therefore
resolved to shoulder a measure of
responsibilitv on his own account.
Accordingly, he went to his nearest
neighbor, telling him to pass along
word from man to man to come at
once to the place where had been
the headquarters of the regiment.
When all had reported, he said to
them, " Boys, no doubt we have been
left through some blunder. What
shall we do ? " After consultation it
was the unanimous opinion of the
men, though without orders, that
the}^ would better quit their post and
follow on after the regiment rather
than remain where they were sure to
fall into the hands of the Confeder-
ates. Accordingly, they did about
as unmilitary a thing as soldiers
well could do, — deserted their post
and followed the retreating regiment.
They found, first of all, that the
planking of the bridge over the first
and deepest bayou had been thrown
into the stream by the last of our
men who had crossed it. Holding
their cartridge-boxes above the
water, they forded this bayou in
safety. But the remainder of the
march in the darkness was fearful
and horrible. Once in the swamp,
however, they were safe from the
Confederates, for no enemy on earth
would have followed them where
they went that night. These re-
treating guards overtook some of the
stragglers of our regiment who from
sheer exhaustion had fallen behind,
but by encouragement and help the
most of them followed the guard

until the main body of the troops was
reached on the Clinton road.

The second grouping of our de-
serted men numbered six who had
been stationed on outpost duty
on the left flank of the regiment.
They, too, had become uneasy.
What indications of life they heard
were on their front where the enemy
was, and it was ominouslj' and pain-
fully silent in the direction where their
regiment was supposed to be ; and
furthermore, the signal, an occa-
sional rapping on the sword scabbard
by the officer of the day, that had
been agreed upon, with which to
keep these pickets in touch with
their regiment, was no longer heard.
The men concluded, therefore, to in-
vestigate, and upon doing so found
that the regiment had gone and
that they were left apparently alone.
There were, however, four comrades
who were then soundly sleeping in a
negro cabin near by.

These six men concluded, without
further delaj^ that the)^ would follow
the regiment. There was between
them and the ford a rail fence well
covered with vines. On the south
side of this they quietly crept a part
of the way on their hands and knees
in order not to arrest attention, for
by this time the Confederate scouts
were close upon them. The water in
the first bayou still rising, having
also something of a current, was then
almost too dangerous to enter. But
the men took the chances. How
they ever forded it and found their
way through the swamp beyond is an
astonishment to ever}- one who par-
ticipated in that doleful night's ad-
venture.

One of their number, in giving an
account of his experience to the writ-

I so

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

er, said : " We could not see and we
went through that swamp solely by
the sense of feeling. We could tell
by the condition of the mud where
the men already had passed, and this
was our only guide." One of the
number, after ineffectual efforts to
keep along with the rest, fell behind,
and for two days was reported as
missing. It is a wonder that in de-
spair he did not sink in the dark-
ness and find his burial-place in the
mud.

The other five reached the em-
bankment on the side of the Clinton
road but could go no further. To
their dismay they found that the other
troops, including our regiment, had
some time before taken up their line
of march, and where they had gone
these five men did not know. While
they were lying there [at the point on
the diagram marked o], a company
of Confederate cavalry scouts passed
over the road within ten feet of them,
and a few minutes later galloped
back, having discovered, no doubt,
that the detachments bivouacked at
the points indicated in the diagram
by the three small circles [,,",,] were
in good position to repel an attack.
At daylight these five men followed
down the road, keeping, meanwhile,
a good lookout for the enemy, until
the other troops were overtaken.

The third grouping of our de.serted
men, four in number, three of whom
were members of the band and one a
private, had sought the comfort and
protection of a slave cabin near the
position taken by the regiment for
the night and had fallen asleep.
Within a few minutes after the
guards and pickets had gone, this
cabin was surrounded and the four
men were pri.soners, and the next

morning were marched into Port
Hud.son.

It is just to all parties to say at
this point that it subsequently turned
out that the conjecture of the private
in Company C was correct. The
lieutenant of the guard had not at-
tended to one of his most important
duties, which was to call in the
guard and the outpost picket at the
time the regiment moved. Though
this remissness was known to the
regimental officers, it was thought
best to reprimand neither the lieuten-
ant for his neglect nor the men on
picket duty for their disobedience and
desertion. Indeed, who was qualified
to administer discipline? Those in
command above us had failed in their
duty, having left our entire regiment
to shift for itself. Nor could our own
regimental officers very well court-
martial the guards and pickets, since
without, orders the entire regiment
had taken the matter of retreat into
its own hands.

It is perfectly manifest that the
Sixteenth regiment, according to the
rules of war, ought to have had its
colors taken away, and have been
disgraced. But, on the other hand,
had we remained beyond the bayou
one hour longer, there would have
been for us no escape. We therefore
have no regrets and feel not the
slightest mortification in recording
these unmilitary acts. In all proba-
bility under similar circumstances
this behavior would be repeated by
our men. And whatever may be
thought of what we are saying, and
while realizing the peril of the un-
military conduct that by implication
we are recommending, still we accord
our praises to good judgment and
common sense as well as to implicit

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

151

and explicit obedience to orders, es-
pecially when the ship is on fire or
when confidence in the commanding
officers is somewhat impaired. Casa-
bianca was a brave, good boy, but we
always have thought he was lacking
somewhat in "horse sense" when he
remained

" standing 011 the burning: deck,
Whence all but him had fled."

Returning now to the main narra-
tive, we find our regiment, with most
of the stragglers who had followed
us, still bivouacked at the place
we had reached between two and
three o'clock in the morning. It was
slightl}' foggy and not fairh^ light
when our men were astir the next
morning. Such looking men as com-
posed the Sixteenth regiment when
the light fully dawned, this world, at
least in civilized countries, rarely has
seen. Their features were pinched
and haggard ; their ej^es bloodshot
and sunken ; their legs and feet stiff
and swollen. There was scarcely a
foot in the regiment but could show
its blistered toes ; there were ankle-
joints completely peeled by the hard
usage ; some of the men had on but
one shoe, others had both feet bare
or bound up in rags. Some of the
men while struggling and staggering
in the swamp had bravely clung to
all their accoutrements and the hun-
dred rounds of ammunition, but oth-
ers had been forced to thrown awaj^
not only their ammunition but their
guns, knapsacks, blankets, and for
clothing had on little except coat and
pants. There was not a man in the
whole number who was not mudbe-
sprinkled or mudbesoaked nearly to
his waist, and not a few in the ranks,
who, while in the swamp had stum-
bled over stumps, fallen timber, and

each other, were a mass of mud from
head to feet. As one of our regi-
mental correspondents wrote, — "a
sorer-skinned, stiffer- jointed, or more
woebegone and bog covered body of
men was never seen."

Our readers easily can infer that
these were among the experiences
that helped to sap the vitality of
the Sixteenth, and, notwithstanding
the natural vigor of its men, made
them an easy prey to the terrible
fatality that came to them a month
or more later. There is no doubt
that scores of our regiment never
after that mud march knew a well
da}'.

We find on consulting our journal
that our rations that morning were
reduced to coffee and hardtack. As
soon as we had partaken of these the
troops were ordered to fall into line,
and after a march of an hour or so
we reached the cane-field that we had
left the da}^ before. At the order,
' ' Break ranks ! ' ' most of the men
dropped to the ground completely
exhausted.

We need not say, for it passes
without saying, that the recollection
of what we have just narrated, ev^en
after these many years have inter-
vened, is sickening almost beyond
endurance.

Pardon the recapitulation of what
we passed through during twenty-
four hours beginning on the morning
of March 17.

First, We were kept waiting, most
of the time in line, from five o'clock
in the morning till midday.

Second, We made a needless march
for miles on rough and muddy roads,
in roundabout ways when shorter and
well-made roads just as well might
have been taken ; and all this was in

152

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

consequence of the blunder or igno-
rance of those who had misdirected us.

Third, Our regiment and four
companies of the One Hundred and
Tenth New York, though already
exhausted from a long and quick
march, and while there were at com-
mand plenty of fresh troops, were
sent, through a purgatory of mud
and ditch water, to an outpost
which was in close proximity to the
enemy.

Fourth, There had been furnished
neither cavalry to escort us nor artil-
lery to support us, nor baggage
wagons to help us, nor a solitary
army ambulance to carry our sick
and disabled men.

Fifth, There were no means of
communication between our regi-
ment and the remainder of the troops
then on the Clinton road, nor any
officer in authority to tell us why we
were sent to this outpost, or what to
do while there, or when to return.

Sixth, While we were in this peril-
ous position and when, without or-
ders, we made our retreat, the Con-
federates, in force at least five thou-
sand, as subsequently learned, in-
cluding cavalry and infantry, were
within two miles of where we biv-
ouacked and were cautiously feeling
their way down the strip of land ly-
ing between the Mississippi and the
bayous that we must cross before
we could reach the other troops of
our command. Had the enemy
flanked us even with a small force
of cavalry, we should have been
bagged and marched to Port Hudson
in the morning.

We do not care to say more, nor
will we comment further on this
whole miserable affair. Our indig-
nation is too intense.

After reaching the encampment in
the cane-field, we were notified that
there still was danger of an attack,
though seemingly not so great as the
day before. Our men, therefore,
measurably had to be kept in shape
and position to form in line. The
danger meanwhile was so great that
General Banks wanted everj^ avail-
able man to be brought to the front.
The adjutant accordingly was sent
during the day to Baton Rouge to
look up those of the Sixteenth who
had been left in the hospital and con-
valescent camp and to bring to the
front all who were willing to accom-
pany him. The men were called to-
gether, and after the adjutant had
stated the case thirty-two volunteered
to make the effort. Some of those
who volunteered were too sick to
march, and as the line was formed
the adjutant's heart, almost for the
first time in the campaign, gave waJ^
Had the authority rested with him
every one of those men except a half
dozen professional bummers would
have been sent back to the hospital.
Poor men ! Some of them marched
until they sank in their tracks and
were carried back in an ambulance ;
others never recovered from the ef-
fort to do their duty and not to ap-
pear to desert their comrades while
in the face of the enemy. The adju-
tant may say that there is scarcely
anything amid all his duties that he
looks back upon with so little satis-
faction as the using of his words and
influence to induce those sick men to
join the rest of the regiment, though
none were required to accompany
him except such as volunteered.
And it was, in a large measure, this
volunteering of these sick men to add
their failing strength to the next

'MONGST THE HILLS OF MERRLMACK.

move that rendered the scene so pa-
thetic that it never can be forgotten
by the executive officer of the regi-
ment to his dying day.

The next morning, March 20, we
were ordered at ten o'clock to strike
tents and be readv for an immediate

move. In this condition of expec-
tancy we remained hour after hour
until near four o'clock in the after-
noon, when the order came so sud-
denly that the line was formed while
men were buckling on their knap-
sacks and other accoutrements.

Note. — The author desires suggestions or corrections from any comrade of tlie Sixteenth or any other regiment.

\_To be conii>iiied.\

'MONGST THE HILLS OF MERRIMACK.

By Alice Greenwood.

'Mongst the hills of Merrimack —
Wish to heaven I was back !
Shet my eyes, and there they be,
"Just as plain as A B C."
Kearsarge, the old Minks, too, —
See 'em both from Waterloo.
Waterloo beneath the hill,
Sittin' there so calm and still,
With its houses, clean and white,
Smilin' at you day and night ;
And the river, chucklin' low.
As it did long years ago.
When I trudged to school and back
'Mongst the hills of Merrimack.

Warner river, do n't 3'ou mind
How it used to curve and wind,
How it twisted in and out
'Mongst the rocks where speckled

trout
Played at "hide and seek," you

know.
Or, that is, we called it .so ?
'T wa' n't no trick to ketch a mess
Them days in an hour or less.
Ah ! my old mouth waters still,
And I s'pose it allers will.
When my tho'ts go wanderin' back,
'Mongst the hills of Merrimack.

'Pears to me the sun shone brighter,
Somehow, too, the snow looked whiter,
And the sky was twicet as blue.
And the daj's were shorter, too.
Then the girls were so much neater.
So much prettier, and completer.
So much truer, too, some \\a.y,
Than the girls are now-a-day.
Speakin' of the girls, and then,
How it all comes back again :
The old school-house down the road,
'Fore it birch and pine trees grow'd :
There 's the stone wall at the back,
'Mongst the hills of Merrimack.

'T aint no use to hanker, though,
Arter things that 's gone, you know :
But if I could just slip in
To the old home once ag'in,
When the lilacs, all a bloom.
Scent the little attic room, —
If I could wake up and find
All these years I 've left behind
Was a dream, a dream ! — then I
Would be ready most to die.
Ah, well, if I 'm laid to rest
On these prairies of the West,
Hope my soul may wander back
'Mongst the hills of Merrimack.

\ji0^M

,111111 H ■»«
III

Central Square, look-ing from School Street.

Depot Street, from Central Square.

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

By Prof. Isaac Copp.

Early histor}' of Hills-
borough r u 11 s ni u c h
like that of other New-
Hampshire towns of the Colo-
nial and Revolutionary peri-
ods. There is the same story of
courage and perseverance, clearing
and settling, or rather, settling and
clearing, hardship and endurance.

Those towns, however, that were
situated along the line extending
from Dover and Rochester to Lake
Winnipesaukee, thence through Bos-
cawen. Concord, Hopkinton, Hills-
borough, and Keene, to Charlestown,
on the Connecticut, had experiences
peculiar to themselves, incident to
their frontier location. Here was
the border line of civilization from

the south. Here was the lurking-
place of the ruthless savage from the

Business Portion of Hillsborough Bridge, looking West.

Main Street, looking toward Central Square.

north. The sequel needs no recital.
This is hallowed ground.

To one unacquainted with the et}'-
mology of the name Hillsborough, it
has an appropriate suggestiveness of
the physical features of the town.
Hillsborough is indeed a hilly town,
but its name is taken from its origi-
nal grantee and patron. Col. John
Hill, of Boston. Colonel Hill is said
to have given Gov. John Went worth
about fifty dollars for his signature to
the charter incorporating the town as
Hillborough. The name has been
corrupted to Hillsborough.

From the time of the original sur-
vey of the town under the Masonian

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

d:)

patent till 1772 it was officially known
as "No. 7." Colonel Hill and a Mr.
Keyes, of Boston, received a grant of
this township while it was under the
jurisdiction of Massachusetts for the
last time. (During the period be-
tween 1 64 1 and 1749 southern New
Hampshire was twice claimed and
governed by Massachusetts, and as
many times reclaimed and ruled as
an independent colony. )

These new proprietors, anxious to
develop their grant, made prepara-
tions for a settlement within its bor-
ders. Consequently, in 1741, a small
company of men and one woman made
their wa}' from the vicinity of Bos-

Marcy's BIock, Central Square, looking up Main Street.

ton, through the wilderness to town-
ship "No. 7," on the Contoocook
river. Of the members of this com-
pany, the names which have come
down to us are, James McColley and

'T-

School Street, looking North.

wife, Samuel Gibson, Robert Mc-
Clure, and James Lj^on. There were
undoubtedly others in the company,
but their names have been lost.

On the eastern cant of the hill
sloping to the Contoocook, by the
side of a large boulder on the pres-
ent site of Marcy's block, James Mc-
Colle}' erected the first house in town.
In this rude log hut, on January iS,
1742, was born to Mr. and Mrs. Mc-
Colley, a son. This son, later known
as Lieut. John McColle}', was the
first child born of white parents in
the town.

It appears that the wife of Samuel
Gibson came to the settlement early
in its beginning, for on May 19, 1742,
was born to them a daughter, Eliza-
beth, the second child of the new
communit)^ The Gibson house was
on what is now the Centre road, just
above Freeman Adams's. These two

The "Great Bridge" and the Mills in 1852.

Part of Main Street, looking North.

156

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

E. P. Dutton.

youngest comers have a later identity
with the history of the town.

Recognizing the great importance
of the meeting-house among New
England settlers, Messrs. Hill and
Keyes had built this "Ark of the
Covenant" literally in the wilder-
ness, as an inducement to the settle-
ment of their grant. This, the first
meeting-house in town, was built
on the present site of the Clark
brothers' barn, and a parsonage

stood where their house now stands.
Colonel Hill purchased a fine bell for
this church, but owing to the aban-
donment of the settlement soon after
his purchase, the bell was carried to
Groton, Mass., where it has since
done full measure of religious service.

Joshua Marcy.

In about five years this settlement
had a maximum of eight or ten fam-
ilies, which, with the exception of
one or two on Bible hill, were scat-
tered from the Bridge to the Centre.
At this period in our history, the

Horace Marcy.

Joshua Marcy, Jr.

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

157

Benjamin Pierce.

W. S. Marcy.

influence of French hostility to the The settlers felt some apprehension

English was sorel}' felt by the border
settlers of New England, in their
memorable experiences with the In-
dians. Already, the stealthy savage

'^ #^

Deacon Charles W. Conn.

was gathering data concerning the
settlement in "No. 7," and, no
doubt, was forming plans for its de-
struction. Several times he had
been seen moving with spectre- like
quietness near the falls of the Con-
toocook, where the mills now stand.

of their safety, as they had no .stock-
ade or other fortification within the
settlement.

On April 22, 1746, the Indians
made a descent upon Hopkinton and
captured eight persons. When the
report of this calamity reached the
inhabitants of " No. 7," the^' imme-
diately decided to abandon their set-
tlement and go to some place of se-
curity. Accordingly, after burying
their heavier articles of furniture,

Abel Conant Buniliam, M. D.

158

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

Congregational Chapel at the Centre.

they left the place, taking such of
their possessions as they could carry,
and driving their cattle before them.
As they passed through Antrim they
were joined by Philip Riley, then the
sole inhabitant of that town. He
had settled in the northeast part of
the town on what is known as the
Whittemore place, now owned by
George E. Gould. This was the
end of the first settlement in Hills-
borough. As far as we know, none
of the first settlers ever returned,
though some of their children came
back at a later period.

For about sixteen years following
this exodus, "No. 7" was again in
possession of its original owner, the
red man. Every vestige of settle-
ment except the parsonage was de-
stroyed. Tradition tells us that dur-

ing this interval the old church was
maliciously burned by one Keyes,
of Weare. It is supposed that he
looted 'the glass, which at that time
was rare and valuable, and then
burned the building for amusement.
No attempt at resettlement was made
until danger from Indian depreda-
tions was removed by the termina-

'*-g-^ I.

Lower Village Chapel.

Congregational Church.

tion of the French and Indian war,
and the capitulation of the French
in favor of the English.

During the interval between the
first and second settlements. Colonel
Hill became sole proprietor of the
town. In 1763 he employed Daniel
Campbell, Esq., of Amherst, to sur-
vey it into IOC-acre lots.

The second settlement was begun
in 1762 by Daniel McMurphy, who
came from Chester, in this state.
He took up his residence on Bible
hill. For more than a year McMur-
phy and his wife were the onl}^ in-
habitants for miles around. An in-
stance of female courage in those
times is given in the story of how,
at a time when there was no settle-
ment nearer than New Boston, Mrs.
McMurph}^ remained alone in this
wilderness for two weeks, while her

A SKETCH Of HILLSBOROUGH.

159

husband was gone to Chester on bus-
iness. The McMurphy family moved
to the town of Hill a few years later.
There are still traces of their cellar
on Bible hill, a short distance from
Alonzo Tuttle's residence.

Other settlers soon followed this
first family. Among the heads of
families in the settlement in 1767, we
find the names of John McCollej^
Capt. Samuel Bradford, Sen., Lieut.
vSamuel Bradford, Jonathan Durant,
Joshua Easty, Timoth}' Wilkins,
John Gibson, Samuel Gibson, Wil-
liam Williams, Benjamin Lovejoy,
William Pope, Jonathan Sargent,
Moses Steele, Isaac Baldwin, Wil-
liam Taggart, Isaac Andrews. This
was the basis of the future town.
These names have come down to us
by direct descent, and, with later
acquisitions, have given us a town

St. Mary's Church and Rectory.

whose record for 'producing leaders
among men cannot be beaten.

McColley and the Gibsons were
sons of the first settlers. It seems
that their parents had settled in
lyitchfield after leaving "No. 7," in
1746. Here Colonel Hill became ac-
quainted with John McColley and
Klizabeth Gibson, heirs to the dis-

Methodist Church at the Centre.

tinction of being the first white chil-
dren born in Hillsborough, and of-
fered them 100 acres of land in his
new town, if they would marry each
other and settle there. Whether by
the land inducement or their own
natural inclinations, the Colonel's
plan was successfull}' carried out,
and early in the second settlement
we find John and Elizabeth man and
wdfe, happily ensconced on their new
farm in the western part of the town,
near Sulphur hill.

Capt. Samuel Bradford, Sen., set-
tled on Bible hill, and opened the
first tavern in town, where Alonzo
Tuttle now lives. He built the first
saw- and grist-mill in town, also, on

yp^f.

Methodist Church, Hillsborough Bridge.

i6o

A SKETCH Of HILLSBOROrCrH.

Rev. Fr. D. W. Fitzgerald.

Rev. T. E. Cran

Rev. F. W. Buirows.

the west side of the Beard road, just
above the bridge at the ' ' Old Foun-
dry."

The greater part of these settlers
came from Massachusetts. Lieut.
Samuel Bradford — not related to the
captain — and William Lovejoy came
from Amherst, Moses Steele came
from Londonderry, William Taggart
from Derryfield, now Manchester.

The impending dangers which
distracted the earlier settlers and
checked their merited progress have
been removed. This later company
are now working with concentrated
energies for the fixed purpose of es-
tablishing happy homes and develop-
ing a thrifty community. Bible hill

Old Town House and Congregational Churcn it tne i„i>ntr

is the centre of activity in this em-
bryonic town. Here the first perma-
nent settlement was made and here
the first tavern was opened. Al-
though we may not at this early
period dignify the place by speaking
of its " population," its numbers are
rapidly increasing. In. 1772, there
are twenty-two freeholders. There is
now systematic progress. The need
of organization is being felt. Conse-
quently the inhabitants, through the
agency of Isaac Andrews, Esq., peti-
tion the governor for a charter of
incorporation. We are told that
"'Squire" Andrews employed Rev.
James Scales, the first established
minister of Hopkinton, to draw up
the petition.

The charter bears date of November
14, 1772, and is issued in the name of
" George The Third, by the grace of
God, of Great Britain, France, and
Ireland, King, Defender of the
Faith," etc., "by and with the ad-
vice of our truly and well beloved
John Wentworth, Esq., Governor
and Commander-in-chief of our prov-
ince of New Hampshire." After the

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

i6i

usual description, it continues, " The
same being butted and bound as fol-
lows. Viz. Beginning at the South
East Corner, at a Beech Tree marked
7, from thence South Ivighty Four
Degrees and Thirty Minutes West
about Six Miles by the Society
lyands so called to a Beech Tree
marked 7 and S, from thence North
Fifteen degrees West about Six
Miles by Common L,and so called to
a Beech Tree 7 and 8, marked, from
thence North Eighty Four degrees
and Thirty Minutes East about Six
Miles to a Beech Tree marked 7,
from thence about Six Miles by the
Town of Henniker to the bounds first
mentioned ; be and they are hereby
declared to be a Town Corporate by
the Name of Hillborough."

This instrument made the same
reservation of " all White Pine Trees
that are or shall be found being and
growing within and upon the said
Tract of Land fit for the use of our
Royal Navy," as was made in other
New England towns. Without His

High Scnool.

Majesty's consent no person might
fell a white pine tree bearing the
royal mark, the arrow, though he
owned the land on which it stood.
This was another of those imprudent
and unpopular acts of George III
which helped to precipitate that great
strife in which the mettle and patriot-
ism of our Hillsborough fathers stood
the highest test.

By the provisions of the charter
Isaac Baldwin was appointed to call
the first town meeting. It was held
in Captain Baldwin's tavern on Bible
hill on November 24, 1772. Follow-

El>«JC/\TI lO^

G. W. Haslet.

M. H. Felt, M. D.

F. E. Merrill

Chester M. Gould, M.

M. M. Hadley.

S. Denison.

W. S. Marcy.

Wilson D. Forsaith

ornnan E. McPhail.

D. W. C. Newman.

S. H. Baker.

Solon Newman.

Ruthven Childs.

Charles M. Freeman.

A. M. Bumham

C. C. White.

H. J. Gage.

James W. Grimes, Esq,

J. H. T. Newell

W.T. Whittle.

Alden P. Farrar.

Franl< Parker.

W. P. Prescott.

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

163

-V'jsi:-

" r(^/<(/, That Capt. Samuel Bradford should
keep the council at the time of ordination."

A town church meeting was held
on the same day and at the same
place as the corporate town meeting
was held. At this meeting it was

''Voted, Unaniniouslj-, that Mr. Jonathan
Barnes take the charge and oversight of the
church and flock of Christ in this town afore-
said, and that he settle with us in the worklof
the gospel ministry according to the platform

Ex-Gov. J. B bmith.

ing is a part of the record of that first
meeting :

" I'oted, To accept the charter.

" Voted, Isaac Baldwin, town clerk.

" Voted, The selectmen serve for no pay this
year.

■' I'otcd, Isaac Andrews, John McColley, Dan-
iel McNeil, Isaac Baldwin, William Pope, se-
lectmen.

"■Voted, Daniel McNeil, William Pope, Wil-
liam Taggart, William Clark, surveyors of high-
ways.

''Voted, Capt. Samuel Bradford, town treas-
urer.

" Voted, Capt. Samuel Bradford, tything man.

" Voted, The selectmen, fence viewers.

"J'oted, William Jones, Joshua Easty, hog
constables.

" Voted, William Pope, sealer of leather.

" Voted, Isaac Andrews, clerk of the market.

" ]'oted. To renew their call to Mr. Jonathan
Barnes to settle in the work of the gospel min-
istry.

Interior View of Ex-Gov, J. B. Smith's Residence.

Ex-Gov. J. B. Smith.

of church discipline commonly called Cam-
bridge platform, so far as it agrees with the
W'ord of God or the Sacred Scriptures.

"Voted, That they will give him thirty
pounds lawful money by way of settlement,
and that they will give him thirty pounds law-
ful money a year for the first four years, and
that they will give him thirty-five pounds law-
ful money a year for the next four years, and
then forty pounds a year until there are sev-
enty families in town, and when there are
seventy families in town he is to be entitled
to fifty pounds a year, sooner or later, and is
to have fifty pounds a year from the time of
seventy families coming into the town till there
are ninety families, and after there are ninety
families he is to have sixty pounds a year until
there are one hundred ten families in town,
and after there are one hundred ten in town he

164

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

is to have sixty-six pounds, thirteen shillings,
and six pence annuallj-, so long as he shall
continue in the ministry among us ; and fur-
thermore, that we will allow him two or three
Sabbaths in a j'ear to visit his friends."

The concurrent action of these two
meetings in regard to Rev. Jonathan
Barnes shows that there was still a
strong bond of union between church
and state. The strength of that
bond lay in the fact that a very
large majority of the. citizens at that

Franklin Pierce.

time were members of the church.
Those of the church who joined in
extending the call to Mr. Barnes
were John Sargent, Nehemiah Wil-
kins, Anthon}' Morin, William Wil-
liams, Archibald Taggart, Jonathan
Durant, Timothy Wilkins, Joseph
Clark, Benjamin Lovejoy, Samuel
Bradford, John Mead, George Booth,
Isaac Andrews, Joshua Easty, Tim-
othy Bradford, William Pope, Sam-
uel Bradford, Jr. Those of the con-
gregation were Baxter Howe, Wil-

The President Pierce Homestead.

liam Jones, Andrew Wilkins, Samuel
Bradford, 3d, Isaac Baldwin.

On the day following the church
meeting, Rev^ Jonathan Barnes, then
twenty-three years of age, was or-
dained and settled, the first estab-
lished minister in town. The ordi-
nation exercises were held in Lieu-
tenant Bradford's barn on Bible hill.
The council were entertained at Cap-
tain Bradford's tavern.

The - stipulations in the contract
implied a possibly long period of
ministerial work, which was fully
realized. Mr. Barnes labored zeal-
ously with the people for about
thirty-one years. How many of the
pecuniary degrees of the contract he
passed, does not appear.

According to the requirements of
the charter, the first annual town-
meeting was held March 25, — the

Judge S. W. Holman.

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

1 6^

last Thursday, — 1773. After elect-
ing officers for the ensuing year, and
voting to dismiss, for the time being,
the article in regard to building a
meeting-house, the citizens voted
"that this meeting be adjourned to
the fifteenth day of April next at ten
of the clock in the forenoon to Mr.
Samuel Bradford jun' his barn."

The barn was the workshop of
these early builders of our town. It
was the temple of their worship, the
arena of their deliberations. The
da}^ to which the last meeting ad-
journed happened to be that of the

K. D. Pierce, Esq.

Colonel Hill included ten acres near
the centre of the town. It was given
"for the site of a meeting house,
burial ground, and common." He
also set apart about two hundred fifty
acres as a gift to the first settled min-
ister in the town. This, of course,
fell to the Rev. Mr. Barnes, whose

K. D. Pierce, Esq.

" Publick Fast," so no business w^as
transacted. A meeting-house was
the first great want of the commu-
nity. At a town meeting held on the
following May 4th, it was voted " to
build a meeting hou.se this year, the
length to be 35 feet, breadth 30 feet,
and 9 feet stud ; to set the same on
land Colonel Hill gave for that pur-
pose. Isaac Andrews, John McCoI-
ley, Timothy Wilkins, Committee."

This hou.se was not completed for
use till 1779. Meanwhile, religious
services were held in barns in warm
weather and in dwelling-houses in
cold weather.

The land alluded to as given b}-

Judge S. W. Holman.

1 66

A SKETCH Oh HILLSBOROUGH.

Eagle Hose Company.

descendants still own the old home-
stead and use it for a summer home.
The folk-lore associated with the old
Barnes mansion would of itself fill
the space allotted to this sketch.

At the town-meeting held March
30, 1775, it was voted to "reserve
one-third part of highway tax
towards purchasing lumber to build
a bridge over the Contoocook River,
if Colonel Hill will give 100 acres of
land or $100 towards building said
bridge." This record is interesting as
showing the comparative value of land
at that time and the first movement
towards bridging the Contoocook.

We are told that the proprietor had
been selling land for several years at
the regular price of fift}' cents an
acre.

It appears that Colonel Hill prom-
ised to contribute one hundred acres
of land in his new town towards the
building of a bridge. The extra bur-
dens incident to the war which imme-
diately followed, called for strictest
economy in town affairs, hence the

Contoocook Mills.

building of the bridge, like that of
the church, was prolonged to 1779.
An example of the rigid economy
practised by the tovvn in that trying
period is shown by the following
town record of 1776: "Voted three
pounds to defray town charges this
year."

Colonel Hill died in 1 7 76 at his home

Hook and Ladder Connpany.

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

167

in Boston. lyike many other specu-
lators of that time, he became finan-
cially distressed in the last years of his
life, from disturbance in commercial
circles caused by the impending war
and the depreciation of Continental
money. A large portion of the north-
east section of Hillsborough came into
the possession of some of his creditors
by mortgage title. Gov. James Bow-
doin, of Massachusetts, obtained a
claim to one thousand acres in this
way, and a Mr. Green, of Boston,
eight hundred acres. The first set-
tlement in this section of the town
was made in 1780 by John Hartwell,
from Concord, Mass., — whence the
name "Concord End" — and Thad-
deus Munroe from Carlisle.

Hillsborough Woolen Mills and High Street.

In 1775, the settlement numbered
forty families. Although the mu-
nicipal government had been in mo-
tion less than three years, it had
acquired a momentum which car-
ried it successfully and gloriously
through the high resistance period
of the Revolutionary struggle. The
spirit which led those heroes into the
wilderness to battle with the forces of
nature for homes, freedom, and hap-
piness, could not fail them when they
were called to defend those homes,

E. C. Newnnan, Chief of Police.

maintain that freedom, and secure
that happiness. (3n March 30, 1775,
in anticipation of the approaching
conflict, the town voted to purchase
a supply of ammunition. The
powder of patriotism was already
thoroughly dry and in waiting. It
needed only the spark from Lexing-
ton to make it effective. When the
news of that event reached Hills-
borough, a company of volunteers
for twelve days' service was immedi-
ately formed under the leadership of

Baker's Block.

i6S

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

Col J. F. Gr

Capt. Isaac Baldwin. Besides the
captain, the company consisted of Ser-
geant Amnii Andrews, Moses Steele,
Andros Wilkins, John McNeil, Is-
aac Baldwin, Jr., Samuel Symonds,
George Beamin, William Jones, Bax-

ter Howe, James Gibson, James Tag-
gart, Silas Cooledge, Jacob Flint.

They started immediately for the
scene of action. Soon after their
arrival at headquarters of the Ameri-
can army, a large company was en-
rolled under command of Captain
Baldwin, with John Hale, of Hop-
kinton, lieutenant, Stephen Hoit,
whose descendants live in Sandwich,
ensign. This company was in the

Hon. J. B. Whitternore.

Ci'l. J. F. Gtimes.

detachment commanded b}- Major
Andrew McClary of Epsom.

On the morning of June 17 they
were stationed in Medford. Early in
the day, when the Battle of Bunker
Hill was opened, they were ordered
to advance to the scene of conflict.
They entered the fight about noon,
and at one o'clock Captain Baldwin
fell, mortally wounded in the breast
by a musket ball. Two of his fellow-
towaismen, members of his company,
John McNeil and James Gibson, bore
the gallant captain from the field.
He died before sundown on that
memorable day. This was Hillsbor-
ough's first human sacrifice at the
altar of liberty. Following is a list
of those who entered the service
later: Isaac Andrews, Jr., William
Pope, Thomas Murdough, Samuel
Murdough, Solomon Andrews, Sam-
uel Bradford, Jr.,'? John McColley,

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

169

William Booth, Asa Wilkins, Na-
than Taylor, William Taggart, Arch-
ibald Taggart, Joseph Taggart, John
Taggart, Robert Taggart, Nathaniel
Johnson, Robert Finne, Simeon Sy-
monds, Joel Jones, Benjamin Jones,
Andrew Bradford, John Meade,
Thomas Kimball, John Thomson,
Ebenezer Sargent. The records
show that Hillsborough furnished, in
all, thirty-eight heroes for the Revo-
lutionary war. Several of these men
served under Stark. Ammi Andrews
and James Taggart accompanied
Arnold on his expedition against
Quebec. Robert Wilkins was a fa-
vorite in lyafayette's detachment.
Not all the heroes had joined the
army in the field. There were those
at home struggling as heroically with
a depreciated currency and its attend-
ant evils. In the records of that time
there is constant allusion to the finan-

J S Butler.

cial chaos. Frequent conventions
were held " for establishing the price
of things." The^ following is from
the town records of March 30, 17S0:

" I'olfd, To make the money good agreeable
to contract with Rev. J. Barnes, in the produce
of land, or as much money as will ]mrchase
as much grain, labor, or meat as the contract
would at the time it was made."

At one time the salary of Mr. Barnes
for a year was only enough to pur-
chase him a pig.

J. S. Butler.

Daniel Killom at that time paid
$10,000 for the farm now owned by
Mr. Freeman Adams.

Some idea of the fluctuation of
prices may be obtained from the
price of labor as fixed each year by

W. H. Story.

I/O

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

F.W.Hardy. W.H. Roach. F. G. Rumrill. G. B. Codman.. E.C.Gage. W.E.Newman.

B.E.Newman. C. A. Macalister. F.E.Merrill. P.D.Gould. L.S.Hill.

vote of the town. The da}^ wages of
a man and yoke of oxen with ' ' uten-
sils ' ' were the same and run as fol-
lows : 1777, 3 shillings; 1778, 6
shillings; 1779, 3 pounds; ,1780,
7 pounds, 10 shillings; 1781, 12
pounds; 1782, 6 shillings; 1783, 6
shillings; 1784, 4 shillings.

At a town-meeting held January
26, 1778, Lieut. Daniel McNeil, Mr.
John McClintock, and lyieut. Wil-
liam Pope were chosen a committee
"to confer with committees from
Henniker, Deering, and Antrim to
instruct their representative in regard
to Articles of Confederation and Per-
petual Union between the United
States of America." The towns just
mentioned were at that time classed
wath Hillsborough for representation
in the legislature of New Hampshire.

In those primeval days of sim-
plicity and hardihood, when the only
vehicle in use was the springless lum-
ber wagon, the technical and scien-
tific consideration of road building
had not absorbed the minds of the
people. The town had made some
provision for highways, but they
were little more than our ordinary
wood paths through the pastures and
forests. The scattered houses were
connected by foot paths. There was
a highway extending from near Free-
man Adams's place on the Centre
road across Bible hill to the west
part of the town. That part of the
road east of the ' ' turnpike ' ' has long
since been discontinued, but traces of
it are still visible.

The first bridge across the Contoo-
cook in this town was completed in

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

171

the latter part of 1779. Previous to
the construction of a bridge, the town
maintained a ferry for public convej'-
ance across the river. The bridge, a
wooden structure, was built on the
site of the present new bridge. In
that localit3% for those times, it was a
marvel in size and engineering skill.
It was always known as ' ' The Great
Bridge." Its memory is perpetuated
in the name Hillsborough Bridge.

From the town records we find
that labor on that bridge, at three
pounds a day, cost 2,109 pounds.
Captain Bradford also presented a bill
of 194 pounds, 10 shillings, for liquor
and victuals furnished laborers on the
bridge. The ratio of victuals to drink
is not recorded. The account was
allowed with good grace, for our
fathers believed that no great under-
taking could be successfully accom-
plished unless entered into with

"spirit." Even the building and
dedication of the early churches were
attended with a liquid commingling
of spirit with spirits.

Those were "the good, old days"
of kitchen fireplaces, tallow candles,
ox-cart conveyance, and West India
rum. Contrast that condition with
modern Hillsborough, with its ap-
proved heating apparatus, electric
lights, railroad conveyance, and —
well, it is astonishing with what tena-
cious veneration some men do per-
petuate the institutions of their
fathers.

The pioneers and early settlers of
our town were not generally men of
culture, but they were abundantly
possessed of that material of which
true culture is made, namely, com-
mon sense and adaptability, the rich
heritage of their descendants.

Public schools did not become a

Chauncy Jones, First Buss. Watkin W. Griffiths, Sccoud Bass and Director. Arthur Woodhead, Organist.
Frank S. Story, First Tenor. Berton E. Newnnan, Second Tenor.

THE SNOWDEN QUARTETTE.

172

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

fixed part of the town institution till
after the Revolutionary war clouds
had cleared away. In 1786, the
town was divided into districts or
"classes," as they were called, for
school purposes. This was the be-
ginning of a public school system in
Hillsborough. Occasional appro-
priations had been made before this,
but the town felt no obligation in the
matter. In 1781, 1,000 pounds were

"Mapie Cottage"— W. T. Whittle.

raised for a "school master." This
was the year when common laborers
received twelve pounds a day. In
1788, " Voted, there be five classes in
said town in order for schooling and
that one half of the money converted
to the use of school shall be for a man
school and that said money be di-
vided by families, and that there be a
committee of five men to cla.ss said
town, which are as follows, (viz)
John Button, Joseph Symonds, Paul
Cooledge, John Bradford, William
Taggart." In 1791, the sum of fif-
teen pounds was raised for schools.
Each class was allowed to lay out
one half of its share of the money for
a "woman school." In 1792, twent}^-
pounds were raised "in addition to
that required by law, and each class
may lay out their part for a man or
woman school." This is the first

mention of amount "required by
law," and the last mention of "man
school " and " woman .school," so this
date was the birth of our modern sys-
tem of schools.

With peace established in the
country, our town developed rapidly
in population, thrift, and wealth.
The family was the unit of social and
religious organization. It was also
the basis of much political transac-
tion. The strong and peaceful inde-
pendence of those early homes fur-
nishes a refreshing theme for reflec-
tion in this heated age of concentra-
tion and interdependence of capital
and labor. The distaff was the
sceptre of power, and from it the
thread of life was drawn out to a
goodly length.

The John Gilbert Place.

In 1786, there was one pauper in
town. His board was sold b}' " pub-
lick vendue " to the lowest bidder for
four shillings and five pence per
week. The town was to clothe and
doctor him. In 1788, his keeping
was sold for two shillings per week.

In 1788, Lieut. Robert B. Wilkins
was sent as delegate to the conven-
tion held in Exeter on the second
Wednesday in March for the purpose
of considering the Federal constitu-
tion.

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROrGH.

173

The same year in which the consti-
tution went into effect, i7<S9, the
town, having outgrown its meeting-
house, voted to build a new house
sixty-two feet long and fifty feet
wide. It was to be built two stories
high, with three porches. It was
voted later to have one porch re-
moved. This structure, familiarly
known as ''the old town-house," was
a landmark till, together with the

W. H. Harmon.

new Congregational church, it was
destroyed by fire in 1S92.

There was a scheme afoot at this
time to divide the town and join the
western part of it with Campbell's
Gore, now Windsor. The plan was
a complete failure.

About the time the new national
government came into operation, we
find the inhabitants of the town di-
vided into five distinct groups, and
gathered around Bible hill, the Cen-
tre, Upper Village, Lower Village,
and the Bridge. The history of these
groups is essentially the history of the
town from the time nventioned.

Bible hill in earliest times was
the provisional headquarters of the
public interests of the town. As in
most of the early towns, the geo-
graphical centre was destined to be
the seat of municipal and religious

affairs. Hence, Bible hill long since
lost its identity as " the centre of ac-
tivity." The origin of the name Bible
hill is somewhat uncertain. Common
tradition tells us that the only Bible
in town for some time was owned by a
family on this hill. Another tradition
has it that the only large Bibles in
town were owned here b}^ Deacons
Lsaac Andrews and Jo.seph Sj'monds.
Whatever may be the details. of the
matter, it is clearly evident that the
name is founded upon the Bible.
This is one of the best farming com-
munities in town.

The Centre for many years was a
place of special interest to our worthy
townsmen. Here, on the height of
land commanding a full view of the

vj|Kg^^^^^H^y^r' ^^^^^Hj^-Vjtf

'^(%r

p#^

Miss Lizzie Grimes.

surrounding countr}^ stood the o\\\y
meeting-house in town for nearly fifty
years. The church was of the early
Congregationalist, or orthodox, de-
nomination, the official religious
body of the town till about 1809.
The first pastor. Rev. Mr. Barnes,
already introduced to our readers,
was graduated from Harvard college
in the class of 1770. He came to
Hillsborough in 1772. He was mar-
ried to Miss Abigail Curtis, of Sud-
bury, Mass., in 1774. His pastorate,

174

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

Brooks K. Webber, Esq.

although covering thirty-one years,
was prematurely ended by failing
health caused by a lightning stroke
received in 1803, from the effects of
which he died in 1805.

Mr. Barnes was a man of broad
mind. He was more liberal in his
administration than was the custom
in those days of orthodox}^ and Cal-
vinistic rigidit}'. One writer says:
"The discipline of the church was
relaxed, and at one period it was on
the verge of Unitarianism." Mr.
Barnes's successor, Rev. Stephen
Chapin, undertook to restore the
standard discipline of the church.
He drew the dogmatic reins so
tightly over those free-going people
that the ribbons broke in 1808, and,
after three years' trial, driver and
driv^en parted company- with little
damage to either.

With Unitarian tendencies and
Calvinism in the same church in
those days, one can easily imagine
the condition of affairs. The Calvin-

istic vocabular}^ furnishes words to
express the result. That a consider-
able heat was evolved is amply
proved by the records of the time.
During those trying days of the
church, the town corporate withdrew
its patronage, and church and state
in Hillsborough became forever sep-
arated. Since that time, the church
in its various branches and denom-
inations, freed from political toils, has
done a noble work for the town.

The Centre enjoyed the distinction
of having the only church edifice in
town till 1828, when the Baptist so-
ciety, organized in 1813, erected a
meeting-house between the Upper
and Uower villages. This house is
still standing, but was long since
abandoned as a place of worship. In
1839, the dominant society built a
new house of worship on the present
site of the chapel. During the same
year the Methodist society, organized
in 1838, constructed its house of wor-
ship.

From this time the old meeting-
house was known as the ' ' old town-
house," for here the townspeople
transacted the public business till
within very recent times. For sev-
eral years the town-meeting was held
at John Dutton's.

A busy place was the Centre with its

B K Webber, Esq.

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

S. Dow Wyman.

churches, tavern, store, pound, black-
smith's shop, and winter high school.
Here was the home of the Barneses,
the Gilberts, the Buttons, and the
Wilkinses, household names in the
commercial and professional circles of
New England. Boston and vicinity
owes much of its aggressive enter-
prise to the intellectual products of
Hillsborough's rugged farms. The
late veteran physician, Dr. A. C.
Burnham, began practice at the Cen-
tre in 1 84 1.

Hillsborough Centre is the post-
ofhce name. The stage passes
through here daily, en route between
the Bridge and East Washington.
The store, tavern, town house, high
school, and blacksmith's shop have
ceased to be. The two churches and
common school remain in active op-
eration. There is no special activity
here except what is to be found in
a community of progressive farmers.
This is one of the most beautiful and
healthful spots in New England for
a summer home. Near by are the
"Eake View House," Hoyt Broth-
ers, and " Maplewood Farm," Mrs.
W. E. Gay.

The Upper and Lower villages
flourished and fattened upon the
second New Hampshire turnpike.

This state highway between Amherst
and Claremont, was opened to travel
in 1 80 1. It was the main artery of
commerce between Boston and north-
ern \'erniont and Canada. These
were typical tavern villages in the
palmy days of ' ' pod teams ' ' and
stage-coaches. With Kimball's tav-
ern at the Lower Village, Wilson's
at the Upper Village, and Deacon
Ayers's "Tavern of the Heart and
Hand" on the site of the "Wall
place," Hillsborough did her part to
help the weary traveler over the four
miles of turnpike within her borders.
At intervals of about two miles along
the main traveled routes of those
da3's, stood the inevitable wayside
inn, the relay station of the thirsty
traveler. This regulation distance
seems to have been founded upon
human experience, with the same
mathematical accuracy as life prob-
abilities are calculated by insurance
companies.

Beside the advantages of location

S. Dow Wyman.

176

A SKETCH Oh HILLSBOROUGH.

Col.W.S.Scruton.

the Up-
Wilson was

upon a great commer-
cial route, these vil-
lages had good water
power, which added
materially to their en-
terprise and develop-
ment. Lieut. Ammi
Andrews at one time
owned the whole site of
per Village. Thomas
the most conspicuous character in
that flourishing hamlet in former
days. At Wilson's tavern the stages
north and south took fresh horses for
the hard drive. Besides the hos-
telry, Wilson ran a store and carried
on the sadlery business. Later, his
son, T. P. Wilson, and son-in-law,
E. P. Button, succeeded him in the
store. Alexander McCoy did busi-
ness at the same time in the old red
store, k. little later, J. D. Bickford
ran a wheelwright shop on the west
side of the road. Opposite this John
Small had a cabinet shop, Ammi and
Aaron George a blacksmith's shop,
and Isaac Andrews a tannery. All
these little industries aggregated a
good business for that community.
There is now one store in the place,
Sillman McClintock, proprietor. Hills-

Timottiy Wyman.

C. A. Macalister.

borough Upper Village is the post-
office name. Mail here and at the
Lower Village is supplied daily by
stage, c)i route between the Bridge
and Washington Centre.

About midway between the two
villages is Dr. John Goodell's pleas-
ant villa. The doctor is now the
oldest practising phj^sician in town.
He is a descendant of one of the early
settlers. The Goodell name has
great significance in the history of
our town. The late
George D. Goodell,
father of Dr. John
Goodell, was captain
of the Hillsborough
light infantry for sev-
eral years. His com-
pany was considered
one of the finest in
the state, and was
called to do escort duty for Gen-
eral Lafayette on his visit to Con-
cord in 1826. James D. Bickford,
now living on the place where ex-
Governor Goodell w^as born, west of
the Upper Village, was a musician in
the company on that occasion.

The Lower Village, like its smaller
sister, the Upper Village, made its
history in the past. This was the
cradle of Hillsborough's political and
legal talent. Here was the home of
the Pierces, the McNeils, the Gib-
sons, and the McClintocks.

Benjamin Pierce came to Hills-
borough in 1786, at the age of thirty.
He had already won distinction as a
Revolutionary patriot. At the be-
ginning of the war he was one of
those " irregulars" that so galled the
British on their retreat from Lexing-
ton. At its close he was a member
of Washington's staff.

He accidentally came upon the site

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

177

of the Lower Village on his return
from an exploring expedition to what
is now the town of Stoddard, and,
being favorably impressed with this
locality for a future home, purchased
fifty acres of land. This was the
nucleus of the large Pierce estate.
His was among the first settlements
on the site of the Lower Village.

Benjamin Pierce was a self-made
man. His public career, extending
over a period of fifty years, amply
shows that he builded well. Besides
holding numerous minor offices, town
and state, at different times, he was
twice elected governor of New Hamp-
shire, in 1827 and 1829. While his
influence was wider than his neigh-
borhood, or town, or state even, he
was preeminently the genius of the
Lower Village. Here his distin-
guished son, Franklin, received the
first impulse that
placed him in the
r^ ^ highest ofhce of the

*> « %• world — president of

^ - the United States.

Here the hero of
Chippewa and Lun-
dy's Lane, Gen. John
McNeil, found con-
genial environment.
In 1827, Franklin Pierce opened
a law office in the upper part of
a shed across the road from the
old homestead. He afterwards built
an ofhce at his later residence, now
owned by his nephew. Kirk D.
Pierce, Esq. Among others who
have practised law at the Lower Vil-
lage, we find the names of Albert
Baker, Samuel H. Ayer, George Bar-
stow, Francis B. Peabody, Francis
N. Blood. Later, Brooks K. Webber
began practice here. The Pierce
Brothers, Kirk D. and Frank H., did

Charles Brockway.

S. H. Baker.

a large business in the Franklin
Pierce ofhce.

Hillsborough academy was a flour-
ishing institution here at one time.
It was incorporated in 1821. In
1 8 15, and earlier, Jeptha Wright
plied the art of gun making, in a shop
nearly opposite where West's black-
smith's shop now stands. These
guns were made after the pattern of
the ordinary flint-lock army musket,
with bayonet. The militia used
these home-made arms quite exten-
sively at that time. The Fuller tan-
nery was the chief industry of the
village for years. There were origi-
nally several small tanneries in this
vicinity, but these scattered ener-
gies were finally concentrated into
the large business conducted by
David and John G. Fuller, later by
Stephen Brown. Fine calfskins
were here made for Stephen Wescott
& Son, of Boston. More goods were

being shipped
from this village
in 1862 than from
the Bridge. The
introduction o f
railroads and the
scarcity of bark
have drawn the
l)usiness life from
this place, and as

Delmont E. Gordor,. at tlie Upper Vil-

178

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

Old Kitchen in the Lewis Vickery House.

lage, little, other than the buildings,
remains to distinguish it from the
quiet, farming community.

The excellent water-power is still
here, the germ of a possible future
activity. The Jackman Brothers'
lumber and grist-mill still does a
prosperous business on the stream.
The po.st-ofhce is Hillsborough.
There is one store of general mer-
chandise in operation, Fred Gibson
proprietor.

The Bridge was destined by nature
to be the business centre of the town.
The lyOwer Village for several years
was its rival, but improved machinery
and transportation made available
that great developing power, the falls
of the Contoocook, with which all
other industrial forces in this region
cannot compete. All roads now lead
to the Bridge.

The history of the village is the
history of its industries. Ours is
essentially a manufacturing town.
All activity depends upon the falling
of the waters of the Contoocook.
Whoever has helped to transform

W "i

this lifeless natural power into that
which calls for human labor, skill,
and intelligence, may be reckoned
among the builders and benefactors
of our town.

The first utilization of this power
was for a saw- and grist-mill, built
by Archibald Taggart in about 1770,
on the present site of W. E. Den-
nison's grist-mill. Previous to the
erection of this mill, people were in
the habit of going to New Boston
to have their grain ground. In
181 1, the "New Hampshire Cotton
and Woolen Factory at Hillsbor-
ough" was incorporated by Timothy
Wyman, F^sq., George Little, and
George Dascom. The same 5'^ear a

M. H. Felt, M. D.

Winter Scene on the Beard Road.

three-story building, one hundred
feet long, with wing, was erected on
the site of Taggart's mill. Not much
business was done in this first factory
till 1828, when Joshua Marcy, who
had leased the mill, negotiated its
sale to Cook & Waterman, from Men-
don, Mass. The new firm put in
about eighteen hundred spindles and
forty looms, employing about sixty
hands. This was really the begin-
ning of the industrial growth of the
Bridge. The products of this mill
were cotton cloth, shirting, and
sheeting.

When Mr. Marcy sold this privi-
lege, he reserved one eighth of the
water-power, and in the same year
in which the sale was made, built a

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

179

Loon Pond, looking East.

factor}- on the south side of the river,
where the upper mill of the Contoo-
cook Company now stands. This
was the famous Marcy mill. The
products of this mill were cotton
warp yarn, wicking for oil lamps and
candle dips, wrapping twine and
pelisse wadding. Marcy did an ex-
tensive business. He made honest
goods and had a ready market.
Teams were sent all through the
country to supply the demand for his
goods. S. Dow Wyman was sales-
man for several years. Many an
aged dame, from Maine to Vermont,
can recall the time when she would
use nothing for her warp but Marcy 's
yarn. We have been told that in
this mill was made the first cotton
wrapping twine in America. Im-
proved machinery and better facilities
in other places killed the cotton man-
ufacturing business in Hillsborough.
The Cook & Waterman factory was
burned in 1842. From 182S to 1842,
the population of the village in-
creased threefold. In 1866, the
Marcy mill privilege passed into the

hands of Mr. John B. Smith, now
ex-Governor Smith, who commenced
in the old buildings the manufacture
of woolen knit underwear for men.
Under Mr. Smith's careful manage-
ment the business rapidly devel-
oped, calling for more room and
alwaj'S for the most approved ma-
chinery. New buildings were erect-
ed and additional ones purchased
to meet the growing demand. So
successful was the enterprise that
in 1 88 1 it passed from individual
ownership into that of a stock com-
pany, known as the Contoocook Mills
Company, in which ]\Ir. Smith has
always held the controlling interest,
and of which he has always been the

Hoyt's Hotel, at the Centre.

The Barnes Homestead.

president. The world-wide reputa-
tion of these mills is sufficient guar-
anty of their businesslike manage-
ment. From Mr. Smith's humble
beginning in the old Marcy mill with
one set of cards and fifteen hands, we
have the present Contoocook Mills
plant, running ten sets of cards and,
when in full operation, employing
about two hundred hands. In addi-
tion to underwear the manufacture of
men's half-hose is an important fea-
ture of the present business. The
company does its own selling, having
a store in Boston at 137 Kingston
street, and one in New York at 87
Franklin street. George E. Gould is
treasurer, C. A. Jones, superintend-
ent, C. I. Jefferson, paymaster.

i8o

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

The marked success of Smith's mill
encouraged a citizens' enterprise,
which resulted in the ' ' New Mill ' '
in 1875, at a cost of about $40,000.
The contributed capital was barely
enough to complete the buildin

John Goodell, M. D.

Nothing was left with which to oper-
ate it. There seems to have been no
definite purpose as to what the busi-
ness should be, but this building was
the material expression of a fixed de-
termination that the surplus energy
of the Contoocook should be utilized
to the advantage of the town. This
element of the enterprise was a com-
plete success. In 1880, S. Dow
Wyman, as agent for the compan}-,
negotiated for the sale of its property
to R. G. Frost & Company at a great
sacrifice of the original cost. While
the financial element of this citizens'
enterprise was a practical failure to
its patrons, it was only an instance of
individual sacrifice for the public
good ; for the effort resulted in estab-

lishing an industry which has re-
turned to the community in material
wealth, many times the value of that
original investment. The new com-
pan}' received the corporate name
Hillsborough Woolen Mills Com-
pany. It started in with four sets of
cards. Now it is running fifteen
sets and forty looms, employing one
hundred and eighty hands. The
products of this mill are the finest
grades of kerseys and beavers for
overcoating and cloaking. The strict
business principles of this firm have
made the industry a permanent bene-
fit to the town. R. S. Greeley is
treasurer of the company, J. H.
Kimball, agent, and G. W. Haslet,
superintendent.

Several little neighborhood indus-
tries have existed at various times
throughout the town. These served
the - purpose of manufacturing the
raw materials of home production, to
supply the modest demands of the
people, and ceased activity when
their usefulness passed or the suppl}^
of raw material was exhausted.

Secondary to, and dependent upon,
its manufacturing industries, is the
large mercantile business of the

John Goodell, M. D.

Bridge. The first store in town was
opened at the Bridge by Lieut.
William Taggart, about 1785. In
1806 James Butler started in trade
under the hill near the site of the
watering tub on River street. He

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

i8i

later removed to Main street, where
he continued in business till his
death, in 1.S4S. Mr. Butler at the
time of his death was the oldest
trader in New Hampshire. He was
succeeded by his son, James S., who

W. H. Wlanahan.

is still doing an extensive business
in dry goods, groceries, and hard-
ware. Besides his extensive mer-
cantile business, Mr. Butler is the
largest real estate owner in town.

The store of Button & Morse for
many years was favorably known to
our townspeople and the surrounding
country. The senior partner, the
late E. P. Button, was father of B. F.
Button, of commercial fame in Bos-
ton. The Button & Morse stand
recently passed into the hands of
J. S. Butler.

Among others of the oldest busi-
ness places, we have the grocery of
the late Horace Marcy, Miss Angle
I. Marcy, proprietor and manager;
W. H. Story, jeweler, — Frank S.

Storj' was recently taken into the
firm, and now it is W. H. Story &
vSon, jewelers and opticians; Mor-
rill & Merrill, dry goods, groceries,
and hardware.

Among the later comers we find :
dealers in groceries and provisions,
H. J. & E. C. Gage, W. E. Kimball,
Boston Branch Grocery, V. Moseley ;
dry goods and fancy articles, Morri-
son Bros. & Prescott (W. P. Pres-
cott, manager), Mrs. F. G. Rum-
rill; jeweler and optician, B. E-
Gordon ; stoves, tinware, plumbing,
etc., Goodwin & Hoyt, Newman (S:
Claflin (successors to H. C Colby) ;
hardware, E. H. Ferry; men's fur-
nishings, boots and shoes, Kimball &
Roach, J. B. Tasker, Stephen Beni-
son & Son ; millinery, Miss Sarah
Farrah, Mrs. A. J. Barney, Morrison
Bros. & Prescott ; drugs and medi-
cines. Col. W. S. Scruton, E- H.
Marcy ; variety stores, Thomas Gad-
das, W. E. Marcy, C. A. Macalister :
horse furnishings, C. E. Proctor,
J. W. Bradshaw; furniture, C M.
Freeman 6c Co., W. Ji. Proctor; cus-
tom tailors, J. B. Tasker, James
Bavis; musical instruments, C. A.
Macalister; printers, Brehaut & Mc-

W. H. Manahan.

Phail ( proprietors of J/iilshiVoito/i
ALssoio-cr, Mr. McPhail editor),
H.F. Smart; auctioneers, Manahan
& Baker, — this firm holds extensive
sales in all parts of New England.
In the professional line we have :

l82

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

A Corner in H. A. A. ffeading-Room.

physicians, M. H. Felt, — the senior
physician of the Bridge, — W. W.
Griffiths, Chester E. Gould, B. A. T.
Harwood ; dentists, S. O. Bowers,
D.J. Harrigan ; lawyers, B. K. Web-
ber, S. W. Holman, police judge,
K. D. Pierce. M. M. Hadley (for-
mer editor and proprietor of Hills-
borough Messenger) is associate police
judge. Photographer, Charles Brock-
way.

Valley Hotel, J. H. Brown propri-
etor, is the leading public house of
the place.

There is with us the usual number
of lodges, secret organizations, and
orders of various kinds. Among the
oldest are Harmony Lodge, No. 38,
F. and A. M., Isaac Copp, W. M.,
A. J. Vandommele, S. W., I^. F.
Martin, J. W., G. W. Haslet, secre-
tary, H. J. Gage, treasurer ; Portia

Chapter, O. E. S., No. 14, Mollie
C. Grimes, W. M., W. P. Prescott,
W. P., C. M. Freeman, secretary;
Valley Lodge, No. 43, I. O. O. F.,
C. B. Gardner, N. G., E. E. Nich-
ols, secretary ; Valley Grange, No.
63, P. of H., M. M. Hadley, mas-
ter, H. F. Smart, secretary; Sen-
ator Grimes Post, No. 25, G. A. R.,
A. E. Carter, commander.

Hillsborough National Bank serves
the place with great credit. Presi-
dent, Hon. James F. Briggs ; treas-
urer and cashier, C. C. White.

Hillsborough Guaranty Savings
Bank, incorporated in iSSg, is one of
the most substantial banks in the

A. Woodhead.

" Maplewood Farm " Mrs. W. E. Gay.

State. It has a guaranty fund of
$30,000, and pays four per cent, in-
terest on deposits. President, ex-
Gov. J. B. Smith; treasurer, W. D.
P'orsaith.

The Hillsborough Electric Eight
and Power company's plant is sit-
uated on the Contoocook, between
Hillsborough and Henniker. Here
it has a most excellent power and
furnishes light for these two places.
Col. James F. Grimes and ex-Gov-
ernor Goodell are prominently identi-
fied with this enterprise.

The Fuller public library is one of
the most popular institutions in town.
It contains about four thousand vol-

A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

183

Stephen Denison.

limes. It was founded on the Mark
Fuller bequest.

The first church was a branch of
the original Congregational church
at the Centre. It was incorporated
in 1839 as the Hillsborough Bridge
Congregational church. Its building
stood on Church street. I^ater, it
was moved to its present site on
Main street. The first Methodist
church in the village was an offshoot
of that at the Centre. Its first house
of worship stood on School street. It
was later removed to Henniker street,
where it now stands. There are
now three churches, Congregation-
alist, F. W. Burrows pastor; Meth-
odist, T. E. Cramer, pastor; and
Catholic, D. W. Fitzgerald.

In 1883, the Bridge was incorpo-
rated as a special school district. The
main part of its present building was

Ruthven Childs.

erected in 1884. From the stand-
point at that time, it was thought
that the building would be large
enough to accommodate the schools
for at least one generation, but the
number of scholars increased .so
rapidl}^ that in less than ten j-ears
from the building of the main part an
annex was constructed. The high
school is on the second floor of the
annex, the Marion A. Moore labora-
tory on the third. There are now
about two hundred and fifty pupils
in the graded schools, and seven
teachers.

The precinct is well equipped for
fire protection in the Eagle Hose and
Hook and Eadder companies, and an
efficient hydrant service of over one
hundred feet pressure. An efficient
fire-alarm system is also in use.

The water-supply is most excellent,
lyoon pond is the source, situated
about three miles northwest of the
village, at a height of about three
hundred and twenty-five feet. The
system was put in by private enter-
prise in 1886.

Since the nineties came in over
eight)^ tenements have been con-
structed, five business blocks erected,
a complete system of sewerage put in
at a cost of $21,000, the waterworks
purchased at a cost of $45,000, sev-
eral new streets opened, and a fine
granite bridge built over the Contoo-
cook. The population of the town
numbers about 2,600 ; taxable valua-
tion, $1,067,126, in 1896.

The soil of Hillsborough is rocky,
but strong and productive. There
are some smooth farms in the river
valleys. Milk and butter are the
chief products. Market gardening is
a strong feature with some. The
Bridge is a good market for such

1 84 A SKETCH OF HILLSBOROUGH.

produce. Maple sugar and syrup are lieve in living upon its funded lore,

a valuable product of this region, but is making its own liistor5\
Many tons are shipped from here an- Within the memory of its middle-

nually. There are many verj^ sue- aged inhabitants, the town has under-

cessful farmers among us. gone a complete metamorphosis. Its

The town is wholly within the population has shifted and gravitated

watershed of the Contoocook. It to the Bridge. The new industries

has many interesting geological fea- have given it new life. Whenever

tures. The surface rocks are a coarse Hillsborough is now spoken of, the

granite, evidently deposited here upon enterprising village in the southern

the native rock. . corner of the town, which draws its

Although Hillsborough takes a life and inspiration from the river in

just pride in its rich historic past, its midst, is the place that always

modern Hillsborough is peculiarly a comes first in the mind of the

town of the present. It does not be- speaker.

"AT EVENING TIME IT SHAI^L BE LIGHT."

[I.ines cm the Golden Anniversarj- of the Wedding of Hon. and Mrs. Uexter Richards, at Newport,

January 27, 1S97.]

By Fanny H. Riiniiells Poole.

Fair is the golden day, fair is the blue and gold.
But ev€7itide ivill bring the light of stars !

lyove which has spanned five decades, love which is never old,

Love which serene approaches the evening of the way !

Twain who in heart and life are one.

Who are each to each as the azure sky

And the light of the sun,

Perfectl}^ blent thro' the long, harmonious daj^ !

Golden the shadows lie
About them. We, in the deepening day, behold
Shine back o'er hills of youth these lives of blue and gold ;
Linked with high-hearted charity thro' middle age and youth,
Bearing their peace and steadfastness, their noble cheer and truth.
Where'er the blue is cloudless, the sunlight brightlier beams.
When luminous the sun-gold, the blue more radiant gleams.

Now all the golden shadows presage the evening fair —
The evening that shall witness how Love and Faith dwell there.
There, in the twin hearts' heaven, shall starry scimitars,
Borne by the angels of God, still guard the Blue and Gold —
Twain who are one in the life and love that ne'er grow old.

Fair is the golden day, fair is the bine and gold,
Bnt eventide will bring the light of stars !

THE MODEL OF THE PIERCE STATUE.

Col. y. J I'. Rohiiisflii, Cltaiiiiiati of t lie Comiiiissioii.

T last, after rejecting six
different models by as
man}' eminent sculptors,
our commission adopted
that of Mr. EUicott, of
which the accompanying picture is a
half-tone from a photograph taken
while on exhibition, at the state
library.

We found that, while many sculp-
tors could make fine ideal models,
artistically, of persons who died so
long ago that no one living knew
them, it was a very 'difficult under-
taking to produce a portrait statue
that is so good a representative, both
of features and form, as to giv^e gen-
eral satisfaction to President Pierce's
mau}^ living neighbors and friends.
But we are at last amply rewarded

for our labor, patience, and I ma}-
say perseverance.

Mr. H. J. Ellicott; the successful
competitor, stands at the front with
the best sculptors in this country.
He is a native of h^licott City, Ma-
ryland, but has been a resident of
Washington since his early boyhood.
He was about twelve years old when
President Pierce was inaugurated,
and remembers very well how the
General looked and appeared. Young
P^llicott's father, being an intimate
friend of the President, used often to
take his son with him when calling
at the White House. One of Mr. El-
licott' s recent and great achievements
is the fine equestrian statue to the
late General Hancock, in Washing-
ton, which was unveiled last May.

DAWN, DAY, AND DARKNESS.

By Caroline M. Roberts.

The Dawn, in mystic silence,
Throws out its signals graj',
And calls the world to welcome
The sun, whose dazzling ray
Awakens life and gladness,
And brings the golden day.

And then the regal Morning
Rolls back the shades of Night,
And drapes her own cloud curtains

Before the coming light.
Clouds dipped in purest azure,
Aglow with colors bright.

And when the Evening cometh,
And darkens in the west.
With stars in lustre shining
Eike gems upon her crest,
Gods stands revealed Creator
By these signs manifest !

A NEW ENGLAND SABBATH.

By Mabel C. Andrews.

HE snow had fallen soft-
ly all that night. The
morning sun, peering
over the top of the old
mountain, vanished sud-
denly behind a cloud as if half fright-
ened at the scene which met his gaze.
But quickly recovering himself, he
came boldly forth again, and, taking
a second look, beamed joyously down
at the little village nestling at the
mountain's foot. It was, indeed, a
pleasant sight. The brown, rusty
herbage and the withered leaves of
the day before had disappeared, and
over hill and valley as far as eye
could see lay everywhere the glisten-
ing snow. The trees which yester-
day had tossed their bare, gaunt
arms mournfully in the raw east wind
stood to-day wrapped in mantles of
ermine, bespangled with myriads of
diamonds, and held out their hands

in blessing above the heads of the
passers-by. The air was crisp. A
blue film of smoke curled up lazily
from every chimney-top. The vil-
lage was astir. A flock of sparrows,
pecking, chirping, twittering, scold-
ing, were trying to get their break-
fast as industriously as the rest.

The sun climbed slowly higher. A
peaceful calm had settled down over
the whole landscape. There was no
need of the Sabbath bell to proclaim
the da}^ of rest. Yet on this morn-
ing of all mornings the old bell would
not fail to do her duty. Pealing out
through the frosty air the clear notes
came, tumbling over each other in
their impatience, — merry, almost rol-
licking in their tone, as if the bell
herself had forgotten her message in
the intoxication of the morning sun-
shine. A little pause, then more
soberly came the invitation, plead-

WHEN GRAMPER SUGARS OFF. 187

ing, tender, almost solemn, "Come! to his "finally, ni}' brethren." The
Come! Come!" And, answering to sunlight, streaming in through the
the call, up through the village street windows, formed a halo about his
walked the sober line of w'orship- head, and, as the audience rose to re-
ers. The sedate matron with bon- ceive his parting blessing, fell upon
net strings tied primly under her the heads of the congregation, dis-
chin ; by her side her stalwart son, missing them with a benediction of
whose clear eye and ruddy cheek told its own. Quietly the audience dis-
of health and a conscience at rest; persed. The streets were again de-
the maiden, decked with ribbon and serted ; save for an occasional far-
feather, casting demure glances up away tinkle of a sleigh-bell, the still-
at the youth by her side ; the aged ness was unbroken. The afternoon
sire with bowed shoulder and halting shadows lengthened ; the air grew
step, leaning heavily on his staff ; the sharper. The sun set in glory, cast-
small bo}', slyly aiming a snowball ing a ruddy glow on the snowy land-
behind his mother's back at a squirrel scape. One by one the stars came
on the low stone wall beside the road, out, and the night grew holy. Once
— all these and more passed within more the bell rang out its summons,
the open doorway- of the little church. Once more the worshipers wended
and, under the impulse of a common their way to the little church, prayed
need, knelt and prayed together, and sang and talked together, and
Then there rose and fell, with that then turned homew^ard again. One
strange blending of pathos and of by one the flickering lanterns of the
gladness, the cadence of a familiar returning people disappeared, and
hymn. The audience sat expectant, onl}^ the stars looked down calmly
The aged minister went slowly and peacefull}-. The day w^as ended,
through his " thirdly " and " fourthly " The village slept.

WHEN GRAMPER SUGARS OFF.

By Clarence^Hetn-y Pearson.

You city chaps don't know it all — you don't know" even haf.
But it tickles 3'ou ter think you do, an' it tickles me ter laff
When you come here in summer an' go gaddin' in the sun
An' then go home an' think you 've sucked the country dry of fun;
Now- if you 'd realty like ter know what rattlin' good times is
Jest come along some time in March after the sap has riz,
An' go with me a day or two an' visit Gramper Goff
An' hang aroun' the sugar camp when Gramper sugars off.

You ma}' talk aljout yer ice-cream an' yer caramels an' such.
But 'longside o' maple taffy them things don't amount to much ;
You take yer syrup when it 's thick an' purty nigh biled down.
Then pour it out upon the snow an' let it run aroun'
An' when it hardens good an' stiff I 'm jest a-tellin' you
You 've got the sweetest thing a feller ever set his teeth into.
At countrj^ ways an' country jays you allers sneer an' scoff.
But we jays ask no odds of you when Gramper sugars off.

1 88

POLLY TUCKER.

When Gramper's goin' to sugar off he 'lows me ter invite
A joll}' lot of boys an' girls — it helps my appertite.

One time when Fatty White was there, — he allers was a pig, —

He tried ter bolt a taffy gob so everlastin' big
It stuck fast in his swaller an' he could n't fetch his breath.
We had ter thump him on the back or he 'd a-choked ter death ;

I laft until I nearly died ter hear him wheeze an' cough, —

I tell you what, there 's lots of fun when Gramper sugars off.

Grammer sends a pan of doughnuts for us boys an' girls ter eat,
Kinder think she does it purpose so we '11 have less room fer sweet,
An' we frolic an' munch doughnuts an' eat taffy on the snow
Till the sap 's biled down to sugar, then we heave a sigh an' go.
Beats Thanksgiving all ter nothin' — 'tis a reg'lar jubilee.
An' you 'd believe it fast enough if j'ou could only see

The mess of stuff poured down my neck next day by Grammer Goff
Ter cure the pains I 'm subject to when Gramper sugars off.

POIvLY TUCKER.

By Annie J. Conwell.
CHAPTER \yi. —Concluded.

EAR where we sat, two
men, a very large one
and a small, alert- look-
ing one, paused and
were discussing some
legal point with good-natured earn-
estness. The large man was a good
deal older than the other, and when
the young man advanced an opinion
which he proceeded to defend with
great assurance and animation, the
older man looked down upon him
from his own superior height and
said laughingly, — "What does a
stripling like you know about law?
I could slip you into my pocket and
not know that you were there."

"So you might," readily retorted
the other, "but in that case, permit
me to say, you would have, upon this
particular point, more legal knowl-
edge in your pocket than you have
in your head." With a hearty
laugh, and the remark, "Good

enough, Bartlett," the big man ac-
knowledged the promptness and
audacity of the repartee, and pres-
ently the two went off together.
" The older man is Jeremiah Mason,,
a great lawyer, and the other is a
brilliant law student who is visiting
friends of ours," explained Alfred.
" But come, let us go into the dining-

room .

I wish I could tell you about the
supper, but language fails me. I
only know that it was gorgeous and
quite overwhelming to an unsophis-
ticated country girl like me. Later
I was introduced to what seemed to
me a multitude of people. Every-
body was very cordial to Alfred, and
said some pleasant thing to me, while
they scanned me from head to foot at
a glance. Alfred was mo.st thought-
ful, and did all he could to make me
feel at ease, but I was glad when the
crowd surged back to the drawing-

POLLY TUCKER.

189

room and into the hall. Madam
Sherburne was kindness itself, and
chatted with me whenever her duties
to her guests allowed her to do so,
and altogether I had a delightful
evening. Some ladies sang and oth-
ers played after supper, and of course
Alfred had to be ready to turn music
and render all those trifling attentions
which seem so necessary to these
people, and for a little while I was
alone. x\ tall, handsome brunette
was to sing, and Alfred stood by her.
Some people were quite near me, but
the draper}^ hid me from their view.
They were talking about Alfred and
the lady by his side, and I could not
help overhearing what thej^ said.

" I suppose there is no doubt about
that being a match," said one.

"No, I think not," replied the
other. "It has been for some time
an open secret that nothing would
please the lady more than for Mr.
lyadd to request her to name the da}^
— but who is that pretty little girl to
whom he has been so attentive this
evening, do you know?"

"Yes, I was introduced to her.
She is a Miss Tucker. When Mr.
Iv. was hurt he was taken to the home
of this young lady and taken care of
until he recovered, and the Sher-
burnes are entertaining her on that
account. Her father is a farmer, I
think."

' ' Indeed ! I thought his looks ex-
pressed a good deal of something, —
perhaps it was gratitude, — but Debo-
rah had better look -after her interests
a little more closely or the farmer's
daughter may disarrange her plans.
Such things have been known to
happen, you know."

"Oh, there's nothing to fear from
that quarter," said the one who had

first spoken. "Of course such a
thing as marriage would not be
thought of, though Alfred may do a
little flirting with the dainty Phyllis.
His cousin, Deborah Wentworth, and
he have been the same as engaged
from childhood almost, and even if
that were not the case, he would
never think of marrying so far be-
neath him socially."

Just then the music ceased, and
the two people, who had so readily
disposed of my little romance, moved
off to thank the singer for the pleas-
ure she had given them, and left me
to get back my senses the best way
that I could. I had barely time to
quiet the wild beating of my heart
when Alfred came back to me and
asked me, with a glowing face, if I
had not enjoyed his cousin's singing.
" Yes, indeed," I replied, " and isn't
she lovely? She is fairly queenly!"
I scarcely knew what I said, but
rushed upon the first thing that oc-
curred to me, that he might not sus-
pect what a wretched listener I had
been. Actually, I had not heard a
note of the singing, but every word
of that conversation had burned itself
into my heart. Alfred was so atten-
tive and kind that after a while I felt
like smiling at my jealous fears of the
hour before and snapping my fingers
at gossiping tongues.

It was onl}^ when Alfred asked me
if I had met his cousin and wished to
introduce her to me, that I felt an}^
return of those other feelings. I told
him that I would like to meet Miss
Wentworth, but thought we had bet-
ter not interrupt her then. She was
talking with a young man who was
oblivious to everybody else, and I
was glad to make that an excuse for
not meeting her at that moment.

190

POLLY TUCKER.

lyater in the evening she came to
me on Major Sherburne's arm. He
introduced her as "My niece, Miss
Wentworth, and 3'our sincere ad-
mirer, my dear." Then to her, "And,
Deborah, this is Miss Tucker, the
little girl whom we have talked so
much about. I see you have a great
deal to say to each other, and Madam
S. is nodding in my direction, so
pray excuse me and I '11 inquire what
she wants." And with a bow he
left us.

I felt myself shrink away from this
handsome woman, whose keen glances
looked me through and through, al-
though she was very smiling and
agreeable. "Pray where have yow
hidden yourself since supper, Miss
Tucker?" she asked. " I wished to
see you earlier in the evening, and
thank you for taking such excellent
care of my Cousin Alfred during his
illness. We were dreadfully fright-
ened at first, and anxious all of the
time; and, too, it seemed much
worse because he was ill away from
home. I presume you saw a great
deal of him while he was at your
house," she continued. "Indeed,
with such a fair nurse, it is a won-
der that he considered himself well
enough to come home at all."

I hastened to tell her that my
mother, and not myself, had taken
care of Mr. Ladd during his illness,
and assured her that the doctor said
he had recovered quickly from his
really serious injuries.

"Yes, no doubt of that," she re-
plied, "but the bad boy did not re-
turn home quickly, — and he 's not
to blame for it, either," she added,
with a smile that I did not like,
though I did not . know what she
meant by it. Then she questioned

me about books and celebrated peo-
ple, and showed me some beautiful
pictures of England and Scotland.
She described the places vividly, — as
if she were well acquainted with their
locality and surroundings, and was
so entertaining that I forgot every-
thing else ; forgot that a little while
before my heart had been full of
jealous distrust of this woman, and
that she was now only testing my
knowledge. Not until I was alone
did I realize how thoroughly I had
been weighed in the balance of her
mind, — and of course found wanting.

As soon as the last guest had gone.
Madam S. said to me, "Now you
must not sa}^ a word to-night, but
retire at once, or my wild rose will
look decidedly drooping to-morrow.
You looked sweet and lovely to-night
and put to blush city beauties ; but
now you really must go." And not
knowing what else to say, I bade
her and the Major good-night and
followed the maid to my room.

I was so tired and excited that I
thought for a while I could not go
to sleep, but watching the fire tired
my eyes so I closed them, just to
think better, and when I unclosed
them the sun was shining brightly !
Only think ! I had slept till ten
o'clock — later than I ever slept be-
fore in my life !

I was soon ready to go down stairs,
and expected to be well laughed at,
if, indeed, the Sherburnes were not
shocked at my being so lazy. When
I entered the library there was no
one there, so I strayed across the
hall into the drawing-room. On the
threshold I glanced up and met the
eyes of that portrait which troubled
me so much last evening, but I reso-
lutely turned away from it to the por-

POLLY TUCKER.

191

trait of a sweet young girl, with a
dove perched on her wrist. She was
restful and comforting ; for I confess
that I felt insignificant and out of
place in the midst of such an array of
august personages, portraits though
they were.

Soon I returned to the library, and
taking a book, had read only a few
lines when Alfred came in. " What,
astir so early ? " he exclaimed. " Wh3%
do you call ten o'clock early? I was
frightened at being so late," I replied.
He laughed and told me I need not
expect any one down stairs for an
hour yet, as he settled himself for
a long talk. He said many compli-
mentary things of my looks at the
party, and again urged me to let him
tell his uncle and aunt of our engage-
ment; but I told him no, — certainly
not while I was their guest, — so he
had to jneld to my wishes.

He sat looking thoughtfully into
the fire for a few moments, then he
suddenly looked up and said, "Did
it ever occur to you, Polly, that you
reall}^ know ver}' little about me?
I have been away from home so
much that you know^ we never
even met until the night of the
husking. Would yo\x like to hear
my story ? ' '

When I have been alone I have
sometimes wondered that he never
mentions his parents, and that he

says so little about his own affairs ;
but when I am with him he is so
bright and gaj^ that I never think
of doubting him in any way, and
never think beyond the present. So
my heart gave a satisfied throb when
he offered to tell me his historj',
and I was thankful that I had never
let him know that I had noticed his
previous silence. I told him that
wdiile I should appreciate the confi-
dence if he told me his history, I did
not want him to feel obliged to give
an account of himself, for I was sure
I could trust him, — in the past as
well as for the future.

"Thank yovi for your confidence,
Polly, dear," he said, "but 3'ou have
a right to know who the man is whom
3'ou have promised to marr}-, and how
he is situated. I have tried to tell
you before, but there are some parts
rather hard to get over. If you care
to hear it on yowx way home this
afternoon, I will tell 3'ou all about
mj^self and my prospects."

Before I could replj^ Major and
Madam S. came in, both of whom
complimented me on my fresh color.
They wanted me to stay and make a
visit, but I had told Mother that I
would leave for home earl}^ in the
afternoon ; and the prospect of hear-
ing Alfred's story made me anxious
to go. So right after dinner A. and
I started for home.

CHAPTER X.

We started off gaily, and the horse
fairly flew through the snowy streets
until we struck into the country road,
when Alfred pulled him down to a
gentle trot, and began his story, which
I was getting impatient to hear. It

was not a long one, so I will tell it
to you.

His father was an Englishman
whom his mother, Madam Sher-
burne's only sister, had married
rather in opposition to the wishes

192

POLLY TUCKER.

of her family. She lived, however,
only a few j^ears after her marriage,
and at her death Madam S. assumed
the care of her little motherless
nephew, then about five years old.
Alfred's father went upon an ex-
tended European tour soon after his
wife's death, and finally married in
L/Ondon, where he had died seven
years ago. Mr. Ladd, senior, had in
New York a brother who was an
eccentric, wealthy bachelor. Rumor
made an earlj^ disappointment in love
responsible for his oddity, but be that
as it may, he lived alone, and at his
death was found to have made a will
in favor of Alfred, provided he would
live in New York and ' ' never follow
any other profession than being a
gentleman " ! If Alfred should be
inclined to marry, — and he devoutly
hoped he never would, — he should
recommend an alliance with the
daughter of Langdon Went worth,
as the family was a good one, and
the estate large and unencumbered.

The first two conditions must be
complied with before Alfred should
reach his twenty-third birthday ; the
latter course he merely advised, but
if Alfred failed to follow his advice,
one third of the property should en-
dow a popular charity ; while disre-
gard of the first two stipulations of
the will would cause the other two
thirds of the fortune to revert to dis-
tant connections of the family.

When Alfred came to our house to
the husking, he was about leaving
Riverside for New York, but Madam
S.'s house was all the home that he
had ever known, and he was reluc-

\To be coHthiucd.\

tant to leave it. He had grown ac-
customed to regarding his cousin as
his future wife, although no w^ord of
love had ever passed between them,
and until our meeting the bonds had
not been irksome to him. Since that
time all had been changed, for he
had realized the difference between
the warm, cousinly affection which
he gave Miss Wentworth, and an ab-
sorbing love which laughs at obsta-
cles.

"Now, Polly, dear," he said, "you
can understand why I hesitated to
tell you my story, although I felt that
you ought to know the whole truth.
I am nearing my twenty-third birth-
day, and must soon make my home
in New York, which is also Debo-
rah's home. Do you not see now
why it will be better to announce our
engagement — for I want to take you
there soon, as my wife? When the
June roses bloom, will you not go
there with me, little Polly ? "

I told him that he. might speak,
to my parents, and that we must be
governed by their decision as to our
future plans. Wasn't it noble of
him to be ready to sacrifice so large
a portion of his fortune, just for me?
Still, I was utterly bewildered and
dared not promise more, for I felt as
if by the terms of that will he were
placed at a distance from me. When
we reached home I went at once to
my room and left him with Mother ;
soon Father came in and I heard
their voices in earnest conversation,
— and that is all my story to-night.
I wonder what Father and Mother
will say.

Conducted by Fred Gowing, State Supcrijiteitdeiit of Public /ustructioti.

TO ONE WHO WISHES TO BECOME A TEACHER.
By Hon. Frafik A. Hill, Secretary Massachusetts State Board of Education.

Interests of teacher and school the same.

My Young Friend : May I advise
you a little about preparing yourself for
your chosen work ? You are thinking,
perhaps, how you can best earn a liveli-
hood. I am thinking chiefly how you
can help the schools. Really, however,
the interests of the teacher and those of
the school run together. The better
the teacher, the better the school; and
the better the school, the greater the
prosperity of the teacher.

Wisdom of choice.

If there were some way in which the
state could intelligently select its own
candidates for teaching, the schools
would fare better than they do now.
She would take some that do not now
dream of teaching and decline some
that now select themselves. Whether
in deciding to become' a teacher you
have chosen wisely or not, I do not
know. But now that your choice is
made, you owe it both to your future
pupils and to yourself to become as
good a teacher as possible. You need,
in short, to train yourself for your work.

What the normal school can do and what
it cannot do.

It is true there are good teachers who
have not been normally trained ; it is
also true there are poor teachers who
have been normally trained. This leads
me to say that if you attend a normal
school, it does not follow that you will
become a successful teacher. This is
because so much of what is essential to-
success is a matter of happy native en-
dowment, and, therefore, not in the
power of the normal school to give.
Physique, presence, health, temper,,
scholarly power, tact, patience, ambition,
moral spirit, lovableness, — the basis of
all these things comes not from schools
but from ancestry and surroundings.
This foundation wanting, no normal
school can make it good. This founda-
tion present, you can, with the aid of
the normal school, build more rapidly
and securely upon it than would other-
wise be possible. The normal school
will give you a quicker insight into the
nature of education, put you earlier
upon right methods, save you fron-b
many mistakes, — in short, furnish you.

194

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

with the great lessons that have come
from the study of the teaching process
and from the history of teaching in
the past ; for you need as a teacher to
begin where the successful experience
of the world has left off. It is a
clear waste for you to spend years in
discovering what is already known.
Moreover, you have no right to gain
at the expense of your pupils what
you should gain beforehand at your
own expense.

General academic training 7ieeded.

If your aim is to teach in some grade
below the high school, you need, before
going to a normal school, a good high
school training, — as good a training as
the best high school, with the best
teachers and the best equipment, can
give you in a four years' course. A still
more extended training would be help-
ful, for I cannot conceive of a discipline
so thorough, of attainments so great, of
culture so high, but that all these things
may have some precious value even in
teaching little children. If, however, it
is your aim to teach in a high school,
neither you nor the high school should
be content with any academic prepara-
tion that falls short of a good four years'
college course.

Should you enter upon the general
two years' course of a normal school,
the work it will try to do for you may
Tdc roughly sketched under the following
heads :

The principles of teaching.

I. It will aim to unfold to you the
principles of teaching as drawn from the
laws of mental activity and exemplified
in the teaching experience of the world.
This aim involves the study of educa-
tional psychology and educational his-
tory.

Why previous academic kno7v ledge of sub-
jects to be directly taught is needed.

2. It will aim to show you how these
principles may be applied in elementary
instruction. This aim requires (i) that
you shall be familiar with the subjects
of instruction before you enter the nor-
mal school, and (2) that you shall take
them up again from the teacher's stand-
point and study critically how to de-
velop them with children in accordance
with sound principles. To the extent
to which your energies are absorbed in
conquering elementary subjects that
should have been mastered before ad-
mission there is a loss not only to your-
self but to the normal school and to the
schools of the state. It is a distinct
loss, for instance, if the normal school
is called upon to teach you percentage
when it is your duty to know percentage
before you enter it. The normal school
does not aim to teach percentage to you,
but to guide you in teaching percentage
to others. It should start from your
intelligence, not from your ignorance.
It wants your energies for the science
and art of presentation, not for the con-
quest of what should already be known.

Why previous academic ktiowledge of
some subjects not to be directly taught
is needed.

3. The normal school will try to show
you what education really is,— that it
creates nothing new, that it builds on
nature, that it is development under
guidance, that it has continuity, and
that a close and vital connection, there-
fore, exists between primary instruction
and all that comes after it. In other
words, the great highways of knowledge
and training begin with the lowest grade
and run through the highest, so that, if
you wish to meet modern demands, it is

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT. 195

no longer reading, writing, and arith- compels the normal school to teach you
metic that you must teach, but the world the elements of that subject, it forces
that is about the child and the great the normal school to do work that really
laws or thoughts of that world. These belongs to the schools below; and to
thoughts the child must be led to grasp that extent the normal school is diverted
and express, not in their fulness, for from its true aims, and its usefulness
that would be beyond him ; not all of for you and for others is seriously crip-
them or most of them, for that, too, pled. The same reasoning may be ex-
would be impossible; but a few of tended to other subjects than botany.
them, such as suit his years and enlist
his interest, so that they may become, "^Sencies in school management.

as it were, nuclei or axes or centres of 4. Further, there is the general ad-
a growth that is worth fostering. But ministration of a school, — all that re-
how can you put little children on lates to neatness, order, discipline,,
the track of these great thoughts unless health, manners, morals, the require-
you know the field where you profess to ments of good citizenship, and, in gen-
be a guide t If you are teaching chil- eral, to one's making the best and most
dren about plants, it is not enough to of oneself in life. The normal school
use an isolated rose, for instance, as the recognizes two classes of agencies that
basis for training the powers of observ^a- are potent in the school-room, the one
tion, inference, and expression. This relating to the externals of school man-
is good so far as it goes; but if, in addi- agement and the other to the atmos-
tion, you can lead the child into some phere or spirit of that management ; the
insight, however dim, of the principles one as exhibited in intelligent direc-
that shall help him to bring the separate tion of the school, or in what the teacher
objects of his nature study into orderly consciously does, and the other in silent
groups, — that shall lead him, for in- infiuence exerted upon the school, or in
stance, to see the rose idea in the bios- what the teacher unconsciously is.
soms of the apple-tree and the bramble Agencies of the former class bear analy-
as well as in those of the rose-bush, — sis; they can be directly learned.
and that, while engaging his young in- Agencies of the latter class baffle analy-
tellect, shall rightly kindle his soul, — sis ; they are strong only as the aim is
then your teaching is of a higher order, sound, the heart right and the life
Now the normal school wants you to earnest. Now the aim of the normal
come to its classes with a good high school is to expound to you the one
school acquaintance with botany, that it class and to foster in you the growth of
may be unhampered and free in guiding the other ; and the high purpose of its
you (i) to the right use of such knowl- teachers is to be themselves what they
edge as you have in teaching plants as would have you be, — intelligent in di-
single objects to children, and (2) to recting and noble in living,
such wider and deeper views of the
plant world as children may properly Observation ami practice schools.

make a beginning of apprehending, and 5. Finally, however helpful it may be

to feasible ways of laying the founda- for you to study the principles and

tions for such views in their immature methods of teaching in a theoretical

minds. If your ignorance of botany way, this is not enough. The normal

196

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

school, therefore, in its observation and
practice schools, aims to give you facil-
ities not only for seeing competent
teachers at work with children, but also
for teaching children yourselves under
competent supervision. As the very
object of normal instruction is to reduce
the burdens and losses that come to the
public schools from the employment of
untrained teachers, the normal school
aims to guard its own practice schools
against similar burdens and losses by
putting them under the general and per-
manent supervision of able teachers, as
well as by declining to let its pupils
practise in them until they have re-
ceived instruction enough to work with
definiteness and intelligence of aim and
method.

Philosophy of teaching.

Beneath these five respects in which
the normal school will try to aid you,
there runs, as already intimated, a deep
philosophy which it is the business of
the normal school to make known to
you. If you once grasp this phil-
osophy, if you are qualified to live up
to it, if you try to make your practice
conform to it, you may hope to hold
your course fairly true through the
varied and often shifting and treach-
erous problems of teaching and of
school management.

Ideals to be kept in mind while in the
high school.

With this conception of the service
the normal school would like to do for
you in your preparatory work, you will,
I hope, discover ways in which you can
do a similar service for yourself before
entering the normal school. While you
are in the high school, for instance,
there is much helpful work possible for
you beyond the letter of high school re-

quirements. Why not begin early to do
such work ? While you are a pupil, it
would be well for you to think of your-
self at times as a teacher, so that in dis-
charging your duty in the humbler role
you may rise to certain ideals of duty in
the higher. Are you doing oral work of
any kind, — demonstrating a theorem in
geometry, explaining a principle in
physics, translating French or Latin,
answering a teacher's questions 1 The
thought, of course, takes precedence
always. But there are standards of
voice, of fulness, completeness and
accuracy of expression, of manner of
presentation, of aim in satisfying others,
which, if kept before you and striven
for, will tend to lift your work from the
commonplace and make it thus early
what it should be later, — a means of
molding others by the unconscious
power of example. Are you doing
written work in connection with any
subject ? Here, too, there are standards
of accuracy and finish to be kept in
view. There is no better, way of keep-
ing your English steadily under review
than in close, every-day attention to its
details of spelling, syntax, capitalization,
punctuation, paragraphing, and the like.
An excellent authority goes so far as to
say "that the desire to make every
word and letter plain consorts naturally
with the desire to make the thought
plain, and slovenliness in the one
begets slovenliness in the other." If
this is true of one's handwriting, much
more is it likely to be true of details
that come still closer to the thought.

Permanent and attractive forms of high
school 7vork.

In the next place, plan to do some of
your school work in permanent and
attractive form, partly that it may serve
as evidence of successful high school

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT. 197

work when you apply for admission to a certain intellectual forwardness that

the normal school, but chiefly because is yet consistent with modesty, which I

doing it in such form is inspiring both strongly commend to you. It is more

to yourself and to those that examine it. than mere conformity to average school

The teacher more than most people requirements ; it is responding early to

needs to do work in good form, because some demands that are sure to be made

there are so many to be influenced by upon you later when you are in charge

whatever example he sets. I refer to of a school, — demands for self-reliance,

your laboratory note-books, to your originality, leadership, and so on.
drawing books, to your books of compo-

sition or other exercises in English, to Evidences of fitness.

articles with or without illustration While the evidence of your fitness to

which you may prepare in connection receive normal training has to be sought,

with any scholarly investigation, to your of course, in your school record, in what

personal collections of plants, minerals, may be learned of your personality, and

chemical products, and what not, — in in your scholarly power as seen in your

short, to any evidences of scholarly treatment, both oral and written, of a

power or personal skill that are suscep- few themes selected from subjects once

tible of presentation to the eye. studied by you, the fitness itself, if it

exists, must exist apart from schemes of

Union of student service ivith teaching examination. Therefore do not work

service. merely to meet anticipated questions,

Finally, if you are fortunate in work- but aim always for mastery and power

ing under an able and sympathetic prin- in whatever you do. As between ex-

cipal or other teacher who approves cellence in a narrow field and mediocrity

your plan and would like to help you in a broad one, if you must choose be-

carry it out, you might, under his advice tween them, choose the former,
and direction, do many things that come

more closely within the range of a teach- ^'-^P^'-^^^O' ^^ork outside of school.

er's duty and yet are helpful to you as a Study carefully the circular of require-

pupil. There is the correction or super- ments for admission. It is not intended

vision of certain school exercises ; there to ask for more in these requirements

is the lending of a helping hand to than the public schools are required by

pupils who need guidance ; there is the law to offer. Nevertheless, conditions

explanation of matters from a teacher's may require you to supplement the

standpoint to a class ; and so on. Ser- work of the school by work outside,

vices like these are helpful alike to the If, for example, the books prescribed

teacher and yourself. If you are really for use in English cannot all be taken

" called " to teach, you should discover in school, read some of them out of

in yourself a readiness, at least, if not school. There is much, also, of what

an impelling force or passion, to do you did in the grammar school, in geog-

some work in the line of your calling raphy, arithmetic, and other subjects,

before you formally enter upon it. for whose review you should hold your-

In all your high school work there is self personally responsible. Review

a certain push, a certain spirit to make United States history by reading some

the most of the passing opportunity, standard work on the subject. Some

198

ED UCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

practice in self-teaching when other
teaching fails you is good for you. The
state wants sturdy, self-reliant teachers,
that are not easily cast down them-
selves, to hold pupils up to similar
sturdiness and self-reliance.

Preparation for short scri'lce.

Perhaps you do not expect to teach
long, and so question the wisdom of
special preparation. Whether you teach
a long time, a short time, or not at all,
the training of the normal school is
good for the general purposes of educa-
tion as well as for the specific purposes
of teaching. In any event, the need of
the schools for trained teachers, whether
you recognize it or not, remains con-
stant and urgent.

Local training-schools for teachers.

It may be that you live in a town or
city that has a local training-school for
teachers, and that your only avenue to
appointment, if you wish to teach at
home, lies through this school. Even if
you are indulgently permitted to enter
this school directly from the high school,
it would nevertheless be better for you
to attend a normal school first.

One reason for rriaintaining such
schools is doubtless found in the ear-
nestness of school authorities to dis-
cover who of numerous applicants for
appointment are likely to serve them
best. If this is the case you are more
likely, other things being equal, to do
good work in the local training-school
if you enter it with previous normal
school experience than if you enter it
without such experience ; and this
means for you a greater likelihood of
timely appointment as a teacher and for
the schools a greater likelihood of

satisfactory service from such appoint-
ment.

Fitness the teacher^s only claim to consid-
eratio7i.

Under no circumstances have you a
just claim to be employed as a teacher
except that which fitness to do the Work
of a teacher gives you. Other claims
than those of fitness no school-board
has a moral right to respect. If such
fitness exists, there is not only room for
you — there is a pressing demand for you
— in the schools of the commonwealth..

Helpful reading on aims and methods.

Let me commend to you in connec-
tion with your student work the reading
of one or two helpful books. Todd's
"Student's Manual," for example, is
rich in suggestions for young people
who are ambitious to make the most of
themselves during their academic years..
It is possible, too, that you might find
excellent stimulus in some of the essays
of Emerson, particularly those on the
following themes : Power, Culture, Man-
ners, Behavior, Self Reliance, and Spir-
itual Laws.

Although it would be premature for
you to enter upon a course of profes-
sional reading while in the high school,
yet a preliminary glimpse of what is
needed in the teacher— such a view as
you might get, for instance, from Page's
" Theory and Practice of Teaching "
might give you invaluable aid as to the
color and tone your high school work
should receive from your purpose to be-
come a teacher.

Sincerely hoping that your choice of
teaching as a profession has been wisely
made, I wish you success and joy in the
important work of preparing for it.

i ~ „mM i

JOHN W. DODGE.

John W. Dodge was born in Hanover, September 4, 18 15, and died at Enfield,
February 13. Early in life he engaged in trade, but in 1866 formed a partnership
with D. L. Davis, for the manufacture of flannels and hosiery at Enfield. In 1884
the business was removed to Bristol, where it is now in operation. Mr. Dodge
amassed a fortune in mercantile life, and was generous in benefactions. A Demo-
crat in politics, he was a member of the legislature in i878-'8o.

GEORGE W. DODGE.

George W. Dodge was born in Henniker in 1830, and was for some time at
sea on a New Bedford whaler. Later, he engaged in the livery business at Man-
chester, but for the last 37 years had been a leader in the boot and shoe trade of
that city. The soul of integrity in business and in private life, he refused to allow
his name to be used for any public position. He was a 32d degree Mason.

MARTIN CHASE.

Martin Chase was born in Unity, September 20, 1806, and died at Marlbor-
ough, February 10. He was a shoemaker by trade, residing in Washington from
1833 to i86g, and after that date in Marlborough. He was town clerk fifteen
years, selectman five years, representative to the legislature in 1837, 1S39, and
1850, county treasurer two terms, justice of the court of common pleas, justice of
the peace from 1839 ^^ ^''^^ death, and the holder of various other offices. He voted
for Andrew Jackson in 1828, and for every Democratic presidential candidate since.

THOMAS J. WHIDDEN.

Thomas J. Whidden was born in Portsmouth, June 17, 1817, and died in Bos-
ton, January 30. He was a successful builder and contractor, superintending the
construction of many large Boston buildings, notably the new county court house
in Pemberton square. He was interested largely in real estate, and was an official
of various banks and other institutions. As a Democrat, he served several terms

on the board of aldermen.

CHARLES BURLEV.

Charles Burley was born in Exeter, August 19, 1820, and died in the same
town, February 4. In early life he went to Chicago, and accumulated a fortune
in the book and stationery business, which he lost through an unfortunate venture
in Boston. During the rest of his life he was Exeter's leading florist. He repre-
sented Exeter in the legislature in i86i ; was treasurer of Robinson Female Sem-
inary from 1869 to 1880, and of Phillips F^xeter academy from 18S0 to 1889.

200 OUR SISTER REPUBLIC.

HENRY W. CARTER.

Henry W. Carter was born in Concord seventy-five years ago, and died in Leb-
anon, February 24. He was engaged in the manufacture and sale of Lebanon over-
alls, and was one of the most widely known wholesale merchants in New England.
He first attracted attention by his, dashing turnout of four black horses with which
he toured the country when he first engaged in business for himself.

EDWIN P. BURPEE.

Edwin P. Burpee, member of the legislature from New London, died at his
boarding-place in Concord, February 5. He was born in New London, January
10, 1829, and always resided there, carrying on the farm of his fathers. He was
prominent in the grange, and had served as president of the New London Fair
association, and of the New London band; also as selectman of the town. He
was chairman of the committee on forestry in the house of representatives.

OUR SISTER REPUBLIC.

Mexico: Old and New. A Wonderland. By Rev. Sullivan Holman McCollester,
D. D., LL. D. Author of "After Thoughts of Foreign Lands and Capital Cities,"
" Babylon and Nineveh through American Eyes," and " Round the Globe in Old and
New Paths." Cloth. Pages, 266. Indexed. With many illustrations in iialf-tone,
from photographs taken specially for this work by Benjamin F. Freeman. Price, $1.25.

The strong face of Porfirio Diaz, president of .the republic of Mexico, looks
out at us from the frontispiece of the handsome little volume in which Rev.
Sullivan Holman McCollester, D. D., LL. D., has recorded his impressions of the
wonderland to the south of us. Dr. McCollester's previous books of travel have
won many readers and as many admirers for their graphic, easy style, and their
value and interest of contents. A gentleman cultured both by books and by
travel, sharp-eyed in observation, and broad and logical in reasoning, with a keen
sense of humor and a wide knowledge of history, his records of journeyings are
as interesting as romances, yet as valuable as encyclopedic essays. The country
to which he introduces us in the present work is a land whose past and future are
equally wonderful. Back in the days of which no written history exists, the Aztecs
reared there a civilization as advanced as that of Athens, Alexandria, or Rome;
then came Cortez and the Spaniards, and the red seal of bloody conquest was
placed upon its temple doors; centuries pass and Maximilian and Carlotta play
upon its stage the most pathetic tragedy of modern times; to-day the irresistible
spirit of modern progress conquers even the Mexican "manana," and the old giant
renews its youth. Such is the story that Dr. McCollester tells by indirection in
the course of his notes of Pullman car progress from Jaral to Tlaxcala. Numerous
half-tone reproductions of photographs embellish the handsome pages of the book,
and make even more vivid the word paintings of the author, The most fascinating
book of travels of the year is a conservative estimate of what we feel sure will be
the public verdict.

Universalist Puljlishing House, Publisliers, P)Oston, Mass.

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The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXn,

APRIL, 1897.

No.

A NA\'AL 0FFICP:R'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.'

By Ensi^s[ii Lloyd H. Clumdlcr. U. S. IV.
PART I.

Ct-T^T^I-TTTTT

MrfRRIVING at Jaffa on
December 5 last, I left
the ship with a party of
brother ofheers, one a
fellow of the craft, about
noon, and passing in a small boat
through a narrow channel in the
reefs, which make landing impossi-
ble except in the smoothest weather,
we landed for the first time in Pales-
tine.

Upon landing we met the guide,

or dragoman, who was to conduct
our party, one Lyons by name, al-
though I think that it is assumed for
the convenience of English-speaking
travelers, for he told us that he was
born in Jerusalem of Hungarian par-
ents, and the name does not seem to
fit the circumstances. He said that
he was of Jewish origin, and that the
priests told him he was a Levite,
which he said probabl}' made it so,
at least he didn't dispute it. He

Jaffa.

202 A NAVAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

spoke fluently German, English,
French, Russian, Hebrew, and Ara-
bic, and I do n't know how many
more. He was an unusually satis-
factory guide, for he never vouched
for the truth of anything, but gave
us all the different stories about each,
and allowed us to choose for our-
selves. His costume was highly
picturesque, consisting of an ordinary
light sack suit of European make,
with a yellow turban, the end hang-
ing down over one ear. Yellow
shoes and j^ellow leggins, together
with a heavy cane, completed the
outfit.

We first went to see the house of
vSimon the tanner, with whom Peter
lodged after raising Dorcas or Tabi-
tlia from the dead. This site is not
at all authentic, and is only of inter-
est as supporting upon its roof the
lantern of Jaffa lighthouse. From
this place we walked through the
narrow, dirt}', ill-smelling streets to
the railroad station, leaving Jaffa at
1:20 p. m. in the only first-class
carriage on the train. The rolling
stock of this road is mostly made up
of things bought from the Panama
Canal Company after its collapse.
There are a number of Baldwin loco-
motives in use, but whether tfiey
came from the Isthmus or not I do
not know.

The rest of our train was taken
possession of by about sixty of our
sailors, who proceeded to enliven the
trip by vigorous applications to the
bottle, the result being a general
hilarity, with some cases nearly ap-
proaching collapse. At one of the
stations one of them endeavored to
ride a donkey that was standing near
the track, but only succeeded in get-
ting astride of the beast's neck, so

that he was quickly rolled off into
the ditch, much to the detriment of
his features. The rest of the party
then declared that some of them must
certainly have a ride, and as no one
seemed confident of his ability to
stick on, they compromised by hav-
ing two of their number take the
donkey on their backs and carry
him around, to the immense amuse-
ment of all the natives in sight.

A number of historic towns are
passed on the road, among them
Eudd or Eydda, the reputed scene
of the contest between St. George
and the dragon ; Timnath, the scene
of a number of the exploits of Sam-
son, notably the one where he set
fire to the fields by driving in a
number of foxes with their tails con-
verted into torches ; Ramleli, which
is said to be built upon the site of
ancient x'Vrimathea, whence came that
Joseph in whose tomb Christ was
laid. One of the interesting road-
side sights was the plowing. The

Tower of the Forty Martyrs^Ramleh.

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

203

plow is made of two
crossed bent sticks as of
old, to which the modern
native now adds a sheet-
iron point, being drawn
by one or more of the
beasts of burden of the
country, a donkey, an ox,
a buffalo, a camel, or
mixed teams thereof ar-
ranged side by side or in
tandem, according to the
relative sizes of the mem-
bers of the team.

From Jaffa the road
runs through the splen-
did orange groves which
surround the city, and then out
across the fertile plain of Sharon.
The modern villages consist of low,
mud huts, with flat roofs and few
very small windows and doors. The
inhabitants mostl}^ sleep upon the
roofs, and the wooden bedposts may
be seen sticking up all over the vil-
lages. All over the front and sides
of the houses, wherever there is a
vertical wall, are plastered cakes of
manure, almost the only fuel v/hich
the natives know. Conical-topped
bread ovens are always to be seen
around the towns, and these in their
otherwise idle moments are used as
kilns for the more speedy dr3'ing of
the aforesaid fuel, — a combination of
uses that does not appeal to the
average foreigner.

The land is owned, except for large
tracts in which the Sultan has in-
vested his ill-gotten gains, by the vil-
lages as communities, certain tracts
being assigned to the care of each
family for stated periods. In most
cases artificial irrigation is necessary.
Leaving this fertile plain, we came
into the bleak, stratified hills known

Jaffa Gate.

as the mountains of Judah and Ben-
jamin, where the only cultivation is
on terraces. At five o'clock we drew
up at Jerusalem station, which lies
at some distance from the city, so
that our first real glimpse of the
town was while driving in carriages
to that (for a foreign country) most
excellent hostelry, the Grand New
Hotel. All hotels are "Grand" in
this part of the world.

Driving up from the station to
the Jaffa gate, we looked away to
the eastward across the valley of
the Jordan and the Dead sea, and
through the characteristic purple
evening haze saw the even ridge
of the mountains of Moab, broken
only by the one conical peak of
Nebo, wdiere Moses looked upon the
promised land, and found his lonely
grave. Finally, driving through the
Jaffa gate, we reached our hotel,
and stepping out upon the porch of
our room, saw before us the mag-
nificent remnant of the old city wall,
one of the few parts spared bj' Titus,
known as the tower of David, now
occupied by Turkish troops. As it

204 A NAVAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

was too late that night to do any sight- Tyropean, which valley in the centre

seeing, we spent an hour in the shops, of the city turns south and separates

inspecting and purchasing, as every Zion and Moriah. The whole city

one is bound to do in such a place. on its little nest of hills, stands, with

I brought awa}^ among other things high land to the northward, between

a common gavel of olive wood, which two valleys much deeper than those

it is my intention to send at the first within the city itself. These two

opportunity to your lodge, hoping come together to the southward of

that the associations connected there- the city, and are the valley of Gilion

with may render it of greater value on the west, and that of Jehosaphat

than its intrinsic worth. I shall not on the east, with its northerly contin-

send it until some of our war vessels nation, the vale of Kedron. In the

are returning to the States, as other- northwestern part of the city, among

wise there would probably be need- the Christians, stands the church of

less bother and expense entailed, con- the Holy Sepulchre, the first place

nected with the customs, which would which we visited, the goal to reach

be much greater than its non-dutia- which so many Christian lives have

ble character and small value would been given. I very much fear that

guarantee. I trust that the master the object has not been worthy of the

of the lodge may find it a pleasure to effort, but you may draw your own

make use thereof in guiding the craft conclusions from my account of the

to our mutual advancement. I regret wonders seen therein,

that it will probably be some months Entering the church from the court

before the gavel can be sent. in front, after gazing up at its im-

lycaving the hotel at seven the next pressive front, we come at once upon
morning, we started on our travels, the unction stone, upon which it is
The highest point of the city is in the said that the body of Christ was laid
northwestern part, near the hotel, the while being anointed for burial. It
northwestern angle of the wall being is explained that the real stone is not
2,581 feet above the sea. The walls visible, being hidden below. Near
run nearly in the direction of the by is a star in the pavement, mark-
cardinal points of the compass, form- ing the spot where the Virgin stood
ing in general a rectangle, with the while her son's body was being pre-
longer sides running north and pared for burial. And here, just
south. The southwestern quarter is within the entrance, we see the
on Mount Zion and is given over to greatest existing blot upon the Chris-
the Armenians ; the eastern part is tian world. To the left, as we enter,
Mount Moriah, the top of which is a raised platform, occupied by a
forms the Haram, or Temple enclos- guard of armed Turkish soldiers,
ure, the southern slope being giv^en Moslems, whose duty it is to control
to the Jews and the rest to the Mos- the Christian visitors, and to see that
lems. The northwestern part is the the worshipers, of various sects, do
hill of Akra, the Christian quarter, not spill each other's blood in their
between which and Zion runs David bigotry, something that has often
street from west to east, the breadth occurred even within the very sepul-
of the city, down the valley of the chre itself.

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

205

Returning to the church for a
hasty visit later to see the regular
noonday service, I saw a Moslem
officer wearing his arms and standing
near the sepulchre. Upon the wav-
ing of his hand there came forth a
number of Roman Catholic priests,
who went through a short but im-
pressive service, after which they re-
tired to the chapel set apart for their
exclusive use. As soon as they were
safely out of
the way, an-
other signal
from the Turk
brought out
a group of
Greek priests,
then the Ar-
menians, and
finally the
Copts, no one
sect being al-
lowed to come
out until the
preceding
ones had got
in safely to
their own pri-
vate chapel.

lycaving the
unction stone
and passing
around the
church to the

Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

auspices of the Greek church, and
is for the benefit mainly of the vast
hordes of poor Russian pilgrims who
come from hundreds of miles in the
interior of their own country to
light their tapers at this hoi}' shrine.
The entrances to both chambers are
low stone doors, both of which must
be passed through to come to the
inner sanctuary, on one side of which
is seen the marble slab upon which

the body of
Christ is said
to have rested.
The outer
chamber is
called the
chapel of the
Angel, for
there it was
that the an-
gel watched .
In a corner
near b 3^ are
s h o w n t w o
rock-hewn
tombs side b}'
side, in one of
w h i c h they
say Joseph
of Arimathea
was placed
upon his
death. The

left, we came first to other is said to be the tomb of Nico-

the sepulchre itself, a structure built demus. Against the back of the sep-

up above the floor in marbles and ulchre is a small chapel belonging to

other stones, and hearing absolutely the Copts.

no resemblance to the tomb as de-
.scribed in the Bible. It consists of
two chambers, from the outer one
of which is yearly blown, through
two elliptical holes in the wall, a
stream of fire which is supposed
to come direct from heaven. This
performance is conducted under the

A little further on is the place
where Christ appeared to Mary Mag-
dalene after the resurrection, the spot
where each stood being marked by a
.star. Here also is the place Nvhere
Christ stood when he appeared to the
Virgin. Also the spot where Helena,
mother of Constantine, placed the

206

A NAVAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

crosses after their recovery, and
where the test was made to deter-
mine which was the cross of Christ.
This is called the chapel of the
recognition of the true cross, a,nd the
story is that when the crosses were
found a sick woman was brought
here and made to lay hands upon
them in succession. The contact
with the first two increased her dis-
ease violentl}', but the third cured
her at once. What could be more
definite or satisfactory ?

Here is shown a stone pillar called
the column of flagellation, to which
it is said that Christ was bound when
he was scourged. It is guarded by a
lattice work screen, through a hole in
which the faithful thrust their sticks
to touch the holy stone. This is a
Roman Catholic relic, but to see that
none go away dissatisfied the Greeks
have another in a different part of the
church. Of course each is the only
true one.

Near this latter is a stone slab with
two holes in it, which is said to be
the stocks in which Christ was placed.
Next we see the pillar, marking the
centre of the earth, from l^eneath
which was taken the clay from wdiich
Adam was made. This is a specialty
of the Greek church. There is a
chapel called the chapel of the divi-
sion of the vestments, where it is
said the soldiers cast lots for Christ's
clothing.

Passing from this, we come to the
chapel to vSaint Helena, the mother
of Emperor Constantine. Leaving
Constantinople for Jerusalem, with
the avowed intention of finding the
cross, she had a series of mounds,
with signal stations on top, built all
the way from the capital to Jerusa-
lem, in order that the joyful news of

the discovery might be quickly re-
turned to Constantinople. I have
seen these mounds at various places
along the coast. Reaching the church
of the Sepulchre, she selected a neg-
lected cistern, and seating herself at
the entrance, she sent men down with
orders to dig for the cross. They
found it. The place where she sat
is now the chapel of Helena, and the
aperture in the wall is shown through
which she watched the men at work ;
the stone on which she sat is also
shown. The cistern is now a chapel,
the literal translation of the Greek
name of which is the chapel of the
" invention " of the cross.

Coming up into the church again,
we passed the chapel marking the
place where Christ was mocked, and
moimting a dozen or so stone steps,
we stood on the summit of Calvary,
or Golgotha. This site, it must be
noticed," is within the ancient zcalls of
the city. There is, of course, a chapel
here with its altar on the spot where
the cross stood, and others to mark
the locations of the other two crosses.
Also a star in the pavement where
the Virgin stood during the cruci-
fixion. A very impressive Greek
service was progressing in this chapel
while we were there. We were next
shown the tombs of Godfrey and
Baldwin, and in the Latin sacristy
may be seen the sword and spurs of
the former, together with one of the
heavy chains and crosses of Jeru-
salem worn b}' the crusaders.

Next is the spot where the bones of
Adam were found, in which chapel
now stands the tomb of Melchizidek.
Here also is a cleft in the rock, a
fissure said to have been made by the
earthquake during the crucifixion.
It is ver}' insignificant. This ends

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

20-;

the list of the most remarkable col-
lection of sacred sites under any one
roof on earth.

IvCaving the church, we pass the
Muristan or ancient hospital of the
knights of St. John. There is but
little left of the old building, and
only a portion has been excavated,
the old church of Santa Maria Mag-
giore, upon the site of which the Ger-
man emperor is now building a hand-
some IvUtheran church. Several of
the arches of the old church are be-
ing incorporated into the new. The
main part of the Muristan proper is
still under ground. The portion
upon which the church is now being
raised was presented b}^ the Sultan to
the Prussian government in 1869.

The history of this spot is so inter-
esting to us that I venture to quote :

"Charlemagne founded a monas-
tery in Jerusalem, and the space upon
which the ruins stood was purchased
in the eleventh centurj- by the mer-
chants of Amalfi, in Italy, who in
1048 erected two hospitals for the
accommodation of pilgrims — one for
females, dedicated to St. Mary, the
other for males, to St. John. These
two formed the cradle of the cele-
brated order of St. John of Jeru-
salem. Godfrey and his successors
on the throne endowed them with
ample possessions in Palestine and
Europe. The order was gradually
established, and at last, owing to the
persuasions of their chief, adopted a
religious profession, taking vows of
povert)-, chastit}^ and obedience ;
and assumed a regular habit consist-
ing of a black robe with a white cross
on the left breast. Their wealth and
influence increased so rapidly that
they were soon able to found hos-
pitals in most of the maritime cities

of Europe, where pilgrims were en-
tertained and forwarded on their jour-
ney. When the Latin kingdom of
Jerusalem began to feel the pressure
of a host of infidel foes, the knights of
vSt. John resolved again to assume
their arms. The bod5^ therefore,
changed its constitution, and was di-
vided into three classes : The first, of
noble birth, was destined to niilitar\
service, and was .specially charged
with keeping open the road from
Jaffa ; the second consisted of priests
and almoners : the third, of servants.
As their numbers increased, they
were further divided into seven de-
partments — Provence, A u v e r g n e,
France, Italy, Aragon, German)-,
and England. The government was
an oligarchy, of which the grand
master was chief. When the Frank
kingdom was annihilated and Acre
fell (1291), these knights fought to
the last; and when the city was in
flames a shattered remnant sailed for
Cyprus. They subsequenth^ estab-
lished themselves at Rhodes, and
erected those massive fortifications
still viewed by Europeans with so
much admiration. Driven from
Rhodes by the forces of Turkey,
the knights settled in Malta, where
they erected the cathedral of St. John
and the palaces and fortifications still
to be seen at that place. When Sala-
din took Jerusalem in 1187, he took
up his quarters in the Muristan. The
property afterwards passed into the
possession of the Mosque of Omar,
where it remained until it passed
into the hands of its present owner."
Soon after leaving the Muristan,
we turned into the Via Dolorosa, the
.street along which Christ is said to
have passed to crucifixion. Of course
as we were going, leaving the sep-

208

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

%&^»*.i^:-w::fS

/Bi -

Panorama ot Jerusalem.

ulchre and Golgotha behind, we were
following the route in an easterly or
inverse direction to that in which
the Saviour was led. Along this
road the guide points out the vari-
ous points, or "stations," at which
Christ halted while bearing the cross,
the first one being the house of that
Simon the Cyrenean, who was com-
pelled to carry the cross when Christ's
strength finally gave out. In the wall
of this house is a dent in the stone,
which is shown as the place where
the Saviour rested his elbow. The
fact that the old Roman pavement
upon which the people undoubtedly
walked in those days is twenty feet
or more beneath the present surface
of the ground does not seem to affect
the story at all.

This house is on a corner where
the road makes a short, sharp turn
to the north, which, if followed, would
lead out to the Dama.scus gate and
thence to Gordon's Calvary, the place
now becoming more and more gen-
erally accepted as the true Golgotha,
so that it is probable that as much
at least of the Via Dolorosa as we

have already seen is entirely without
authenticity. Just at this turn we
pass the large and the small neigh-
boring houses now shown, entirely
without reason, as the homes of I^az-
arus and of Dives.

Turning to the eastward again, we
pass the arch of the " Ecce Homo"
and the place of the scourging and
crowning with thorns, to Pilate's
palace, now a barrack, where we
were shown the old arch, now walled
up, from which was taken the sacred
stairway now in the church of St.
John the Lateran in Rome. These
are the steps down which Christ de-
scended to his death, and conse-
quently mark the beginning of the
\\2i Dolorosa. The continuation of
this street passes on to the eastward
and through St. Stephen's gate,
across the valley of Jehosaphat to
Gethsemane, and it was along this
that Christ was brought to the judg-
ment seat of Pilate. Across the street,
to the north, is the old tower of
the castle of Antonia, connected by
an arch to the north wall of the
Haram enclosure, under which arch

A NAVAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

209

From the Mount of Olives.

we turn through the gate to the site
of Solomon's temple, one of the most
beautiful and best authenticated spots
in the Holy I^and.

Solomon started to build his tem-
ple upon the summit of Mount Mo-
riah, that threshing-floor of Oman,
the Jebusite, which David bought as
a site for an altar. It was, of course,
necessar}^ to build a level foundation
for the temple, so heavy masonry
arches were erected all around the
summit of the mount, forming a hori-
zontal platform whose present dimen-
sions are: north side, 1,042 feet;
south side, 922 feet; east side, 1,530
feet; west side, 1,601 feet; — enclos-
ing an area of about thirty-five acres.
Through the level surface of this
platform, near the centre, is the only
spot through which the summit of
the rock rises, and "this is now the
famous "dome of the rock," en-
closed in the Mosque of Omar. It
is the presence of this spot, sacred
to all Mohammedans, which causes
them to keep the Jews out of the
enclosure, hence its name, the

"Haram," or the "Forbidden."
Any foreigner who enters here
must be accompanied by the ' ' ka-
wasse," or messenger of the con-
sulate of his own nation, and a per-
mit must also be obtained. Our
escort was a fine-looking Arab, with
a resplendent gold-embroidered jack-
et with the shield of the United
States worked between the shoulders.
He wore the usually baggy trousers
of blue, blue vest, black leggings,
black and gold cap, and dangled by
his side a sword in a magnificent
silver scabbard. In his hand he car-
ried a long-lashed whip with a silver
handle, and he was altogether a par-
ticularly resplendent individual. It
is very hard to find an English word
which means the same as "kawasse,"
for while he is a messenger, he has
also man}- other duties. In the
Orient every one of importance has
one or more of these men to precede
him as he goes through the crowded
narrow streets, to clear away the rab-
ble, and that is where the whip came
in in most admirable fashion.

[ ■/"(' l<c conclitticd. I

THE OLD CHURCH ON THE HILIv.

By Mildred C. H'a/re/i.

Enthroned on 3'onder hilltop, where the dawn of earlj^ day
Floods the sky with myriad glories, as the dancing sunbeams play
Hide and seek among the golden clouds that meet them on the way.
Like a sentinel, unwearied, stands the ancient house of God,
Keeping watch over the living, and o'er those beneath the sod.
Who reared that holy temple and are gone to their reward.

No wondrous architecture, no columns rich and grand,

No tricks of skilful artist, nor of the mason's hand.

No stately towers, nor pealing chimes, can our wonderment command.

But in the simple grandeur of unadorned grace,

Its spires pointing heavenward toward that happy place.

Where past and future ages meet, it marks an honored race.

In the days that are behind us, those days of sweet renown.

The old church stood majestic as the centre of the town.

While the great bell called our fathers " to worship and bow down."

But advancing time and progress took the tide of life away

To the valley 'neath the hillside ; till at length, one distant day,

The old bell from a new church called the worshipers to pray.

Deserted now and lonely, stands the church upon the hill,

Its empty belfry tenanted by swallows at their will,

And inside, through the vacant aisles reigns gloom supreme and still.

O'er pulpit and forsaken pews broods silence everywhere ;

It fills the loft}^ galleries and hovers o'er the stair,

Yet 'midst the solemn stillness one feels God's presence there.

And sometimes, when the moonlight silvers hill, and vale, and stream.

It shines on the old church windows with a faint, delusive beam,

Till imagination pictures the church with light agleam.

In fancy seems a beauteous throng of worshipers in white,

Whose faces bring back long ago, yet glow with strange new light.

While from their lips angelic songs make music in the night.

NEW BOSTON: AN HISTORICAL AND BUSINESS SKETCH.

lly Rev. JoJiii Erastus W'ildcy.

T the centennial of the
town, July 4, 1863, Rev.
H Warren R. Cochrane
D. D., now of Antrim,
then a tutor in Dartmouth College,
in ail excellent poem, sang, —

But climb with me to-day yon towering height,
Which first is tinted with the morning light ;
Or, nearer still, where Moor's devoted mind
From life-long labors, left the world behind ;
Or yonder hill, where Bradford's classic eye
Drank the charmed loveliness of earth and sky,
And, oh, what change on every side appears
Wrought in this period of a hundred years ! "

Since the fire of 1887, which al-
most destroyed the lower village, im-
provements of modern and striking
character have been made. The
upper village survives, but the newer
village in the valle}', slowl}^ but
surely expanding, will no doubt re-
sult in one large beautiful cluster of
homes, the fruit of modern enterprise,
adorning the many surrounding hills.

Three hours ride from Boston, via
Nashua and Manchester, and New
Boston, nestling in the Piscataquog

View Southwest from Valley Hall.

Old Presbyterian Church.

vallej^ offers to the weary resident of
the city charming scenery, mountain
air, quiet, refreshing sleep for tired
nerves, the purest water, and restora-
tion of health to many who vainh-
seek it at seaside or from excit-
ing fashionable resorts. Yet winter,
as well as summer, brings the ever
returning traveler, people of wealth
and modest income, artists, poets, au-
thors, musicians, merchants, brokers,
teachers, medical, legal and theologi-
cal leaders, who climl) our hills,
roam through our forests, fish, hunt,
rest.

Except in one direction it is impos-
sible to leave New Boston village
without going up hill, — viz., to fol-
low the river to Manchester.

In summer green or wintry coat,
the Uncanoonucs, old Kearsarge,
Mount Monadnock, Mount Lynde-
borough, the slopes of Mount Ver-
non, Mount Crochet, and at favored
points, the White Mountains, loom up

212

NEW BOSTON.

Mrs, F. A D. Atwood.

in their hazy, si-
lent majesty;
while in summer
the green plains
of Amherst add
their color to a
glorious picture
of Nature's
power.

vStand at the
base of "Joe Eng-
lish," gazing upwards for hundreds
of feet at its perpendicular tree-be-
decked crags, — wander by the shores
of Scobie, Bailey, and other small
lakes, or follow the winding, rocky
river, flowing through meadow, vale,
or forest, fishing ; or over leaf- strewn
or snow-carpeted fields and woodland,
hunt for partridges, raccoons, rabbits ;
to bathe or boat in summer, or skate
by the light of moon or bonfire in
winter, or cross fields and fences
with snow-shoes, over drifts at times
higher than your head, — do you won-
der some frequent pilgrims to this
health shrine call it "the Mecca of
southern New Hampshire ? "

Nature apparently tried to turn
this section upside down, — hills re-
sult, big and little, down whose rock-
ribbed sides flow brooks, at times
roaring torrents, rushing for the
river, more than once overflowing its
banks, and has sometimes, by float-

i K

BIIR

^^^^■&

ing ice, swept away iron bridges with
its mad rushing power.

Mrs. Florence A. D. Atwood, wife
of Solomon D. Atwood, who through
her father is connected with the
famous W. E. Dodge family, of New
York, and through her mother with
the Webster and Emerson families of
southern New Hampshire, whose lit-
erar}^ work as poet and correspondent
has given her a wide reputation, has
written, years ago, for the love she
bears this town :

Prospect Cottage — S D Atwood.

The Clitts— Joe English Hill.

" There 's many a spot of hill and dale,
Of valley and monntain height,
Where mirrored surface of river and pond
Shimmers the glad sunlight ;•
Where forests rear their crowns of green
'Mid odors of spruce and pine,
And the carpet of needles at their feet
Is wreathed by a running vine ;
Where in cosy nooks in the hillside's steep,
And down in the quiet glen,
Nestle the homes that send out to the world
Fair women and noble men.
.\way from the busy, crowded mart,
Apart from the city's din,
They 've clearer glimpses in nature of God,
And less temptation to sin.
They look to the hills, from whence cometh

strength,
In freedom and health rejoice ;
Acknowledging God in the tempest's roar.
In silence, the still small voice."

The finst settlers of New Boston
were Scotch Protestants, Presbyteri-
ans. From Argyleshire and Ayr-
shire, in the west of Scotland, they
emigrated to Londonderry and An-
trim, Ireland. They left Ireland in
five ships, arriving in Boston, Mass.,

NEW BOSTON.

2 I

August 4, 1 718. After giving up an
attempt to settle at what is now Port-
land, Maine, sixteen families settled
in Londonderr}-. For fift}' years or
more, additions of men of like faith
and blood increased their number,
and their descendants are found in
many a New Hampshire town, as
well as more distant city.

New Boston was granted by "The
Great and General Court or Assem-
bly, for His Majesty's Province of
Massachusetts Bay," to John Simp-
son and fifty-two others, of Boston,
Mass., January 14, 1736. In 1741,
New Hampshire withdrew from Mas-
sachusetts, becoming a separate prov-
ince. Up to 1750 the growth of New

Boston was "nil."
1 1 had various
names, as the rec-
ords show, till
April 16, I 7 5 I,
when the name
New^ Boston was
first applied. The
town was the
child of London-

Mrs. Rebecca P. Crombie.

derry.

In 1756, a re
port to the proprietors gives the
population as 26 men, 11 women, 9
boys, and 13 girls. A census of 1767
gave a population of 296, of which
there w^ere one male and two female
slaves. In 1775, the population had
advanced to 569; in 1790 to 1,202;
and in 1820 to 1,686, which has
never since been exceeded.

The town was incorporated by the
New Hampshire government, Febru-
ary 18, 1763, and John Goffe, Esq.,
(who had fought as a lieutenant-col-
onel of New Hampshire militia at
Ticonderoga, and as colonel of the
New Hampshire militia in the cam-

The River at Reed McLane s Milldam m Winter.

paign of 1760, which resulted in the
conquest of Canada, and was later —
1 77 1 to 1776 — the first judge of pro-
bate in Hillsborough county), was
authorized to call the first town meet-
ing "within 20 davs of the date of
the charter." The business speci-
fied was, first, "To choose all town
officers for the year ensuing as the
law directs;" second, "to see w^hat
money the town will raise to defray
the charge of the town, and pay for
preaching to the inhabitants for the
year ensuing."

The first meeting was held March
10, 1763, in the house of " Deacon"
Thomas Cochrane, in a room now
the ell part of the residence of his
great-great-grandson. Elder Thomas
R. Cochrane, the present clerk of the
Presbyterian church.

Five selectmen were elected, viz.,
Thomas Cochrane, James McFerson,
Nathaniel Cochrane, John McAllis-

Residence of Elder Thomas R. Cochrane.

i^ ?

Allen P. Wilson.

Allen Dodge.

Thomas

R. Cochrane.

Thomas Hixon.

Capt. Benjamin Dodge.

/ George H. Wilson.

George

W. Muzzey.

Niel McLane.

O. A. Newton.

Moses C. Cronabie.

Samue

L. Marden.

Reed McLane.

George C. Warren.

Clarence H. Dodge.

J. N.

McLane.

S. D. Atwood.

NEW BOSTON.

215

ter, and John Carson. Also as con-
stable, Thomas Wilson ; surveyors of
highwaj^s, Matthew Caldwell, John
Smith, James Wilson, George Chris-
ty, and Thomas Brown ; tithing-
men. Abraham Cochrane and Sam-
uel Nickles ; hog reeves, William
Gray and John Burns ; deer keepers,
John Carson and James Hunter ; in-
voice man or commissioner of assess-
ments, John Cochrane. Voted, "To
build a Pound by the corn Mill, and
that Deacon Thomas Cochrane shall
be Pound Master." Voted, "That
Matthew Caldwell and James Wilson
be accountants to examine accounts
of the selectmen." \'oted, "To raise

■_^. J n^t*^

George H. Wilson.

100 Pounds to defra}- charges for the
present year and for preaching."

Rev. Russell H. Con well, from ex-
amination of records of the state,
etc., and those collected by General
Schauler, of Massachusetts, has
stated in an address, " that New Bos-
ton had 34 men in the Revolutionary
War, and 16 in the War of 1812 ; of
those born here 40 were in the war
with Mexico, and over 200 were cred-
ited to our quota in the War of the
Rebellion." He also contends that
the skill of a New Bostonian saved
the American fleet in the War of
1 81 2, and that two of our boys, by
skilful bridging, preserved the Army

Thomas Hixon.

of the Potomac ; that a New Bos-
tonian founded the first American
public library, that three were prime
movers in the construction of the old
Lowell railroad, and that one found-
ed a New York orphan asjdum.

From the town history, etc.. New
Boston can be credited with about
200 school teachers, a score of teach-
ers of music, probably 30 graduates
of colleges, and a half score or more
of "medical graduates. Probably 15
have entered the ministry. Of these
Rev. Henry Marden, a Congrega-
tional missionary to Turkey, was
noted for saving Zeitoon from de-
struction, by mediation between Ar-
menians and Turkish forces, and
later, in 1887, after the great fire in
Zeitoon, he marched from Marash to
Zeitoon, carrying one and one-half
tons of native bread, with a force of
rescuers, preventing great suffering.
He died 01 route home, and was
buried in the beautiful Greek ceme-
ter}^ at Athens, May 13, 1890.

J. N. McLane.

2l6

NEW BOSTON.

" Molly Stark,"

New Boston's patriotism is seen in
the frequent flying of "Old Glory,"
and on national holidays by salutes
from the old Revolutionar}^ gun
"Molly Stark," presented to the
New Boston artillery conipan)^
Ninth regiment, New
Hampshire militia,
by Gen. John Stark.
This gun was made
in Paris, 1743, and
captured at the Bat-
tle of Bennington,
August 16, 1777.

After every presi-
dential election, with-
out regard to party
victory, a town jubi-
lee and supper are
held. The last celebration in Novem-
ber provided supper for 1,000 people,
and over 700 were actually fed, the
town hall being packed with people.

Another feature, "Old Folks'
Day," which the writer of this arti-
cle was instrumental in establishing
two years ago, bids fair to con-
tinue indefinitely a town insti-
tution. At the second meeting
in 1S96, June 11, over 200 old
folks were entertained at din-
ner in the town hall, 14 of
whom were over 80 years old,
about 100 over 70 years. Some
came home from a distance to
celebrate. The permanent or-
ganization is officered with
Captain Benjamin Dodge, pres-

Town House and Engine House

ident ; William Woodbur3^ treas-
urer ; and Mrs. S. D. Atwood, secre-
tary. Rodney McLane, Esq., kept
control of the time and "joll}- 5^outh"
of the association as president of the
da}'. After religious services in the
forenoon, dinner at noon, poems,
speeches, songs, etc., in the after-
noon, "Auld Dang Syne," directed
by Chorister John H. Clark, Esq.,
was sung by trembling lips of these
happy aged ones, and the command
of God was obeyed, " Thou shaft rise
up before the hoary head and honor
the face of the old
man and fear thy
God." [Dev. 19:32.]
By the financial
and other practical
interest of George
A. Wason, Esq., J.
Reed Whipple, Plsq.,
and others, New
Boston was placed
in railroad connec-
tion with Manches-
ter, June 19, 1S93.
Connected with the creamery en-
gine there is a town water system,
with fire plugs in desirable places,
practically protecting the entire vil-
lage from fire.

New Boston also boasts a fire en-
gine company, "Constitution No. 2,"

■ImBHB^ '''^':",imr ' ^i^ -'^

jjL■^^*;WKJ^^-a^sa/la^yroy^M^^^^j^i^^--^y7^yJ^

.•^ y

Fire Engine " Constitution.

NEW BOSTON.

217

f-'vi)

Ui!in»M '

New Boston Electric Light Plant.

fifty men, who with their hand ma-
chine, made in Boston in 1852, have
thrown a stream of water, after pass-
ing through 150 feet of hose, a dis-
tance of 219 feet.

Harr}' S. Colby, foreman of the
above company,
and our locomotive
fireman, "just for
fun," made a min-
iature machine,
"Pin Ball No. i,"
for the boys ; — they
throw a stream 75
feet, have organ-
ized, and amuse
and amaze the city
guests by their "practice" summer
evenings. Both engines and the
"Molly Stark" gun are cosily housed
on the common.

The streets and some places of
business are lighted by electricity
from the plant of Allen P. Wilson, a
young man of growing knowledge as
an expert in this line, whose business
increases.

Our bridges are mostly iron, sev-
eral of them only a year old, the
• spring freshet of 1896 'and ice break
having swept them down the river.

According to territory. New Bos-
ton, six miles square, has more miles
of road (viz., about one hundred alto-
gether), than any town in the state.
Our good roads are the results of the

George D. Warden s Mill

labors of practical highway agents,
men who know their business.

As to our business interests, lum-
bering, farming, and dairying are our
main enterprises. lyUmbering in-
cludes naturall}' the mills and their
composite work.

George W. Muzzey, a native of
Weare, who married Edna J. Shir-
ley of this town, wdio has lived here
twenty-three years, is the proprietor
of Muzzey 's mill, and in addition to
his farming business, saws 300,000
feet every spring.

George D. Marden, a bright young
man, born in Trenton, Wis., but resi-
dent here since
1872, has since
1890 been proprie-
tor of Marden's
mill, has made
great improve-
ments, added the
best machinery for
manufacturing all
kinds of house
lumber, mouldings,
etc., and has so increased his busi-
ness that he cuts three quarters of a
million feet of lumber and shingles
annually' .

George C. Warren, born here in
1S47, educated in Francestown and
Mont Vernon academies, who mar-
ried Abbie 1\. Lovering, besides ex-

Muzzey's Mill.

2l8

NEW BOSTON.

Residence of William Woodbury.

perieiice as a farmer and as partner
in trade with C. H. Dodge, has as a
lumberman an unusual record. His
steam mill will this 3^ear saw over
r, 000,000 feet. He is now filling a
contract for piling for Mystic wharf,
Boston, Mass.

Jesse W. Mudgett claims 1,000,000
feet to his credit this year. Charles
W. Tucker, another busy man, runs
up a record of six figures. W. S.
Upton, well known in Unity and else-
where, has been here a year and
more, prospering, while Ira Cree,
David W. Butterfield, and others,
whose business is constant, make our
town well known as one of the large
lumbering regions nearest to Boston
and other markets. It would be an
injustice to exclude from the list of
successful lumbermen, Capt. Ben-
jamin Dodge, born in New Boston,
August 9, 1819 ; married Eliza Ann
Batchelder, of Bedford, N. H., De-
cember 19, 1844. His title is derived
from being captain First company of

■''*»^.

J ' I" ^ ^' -^.^

Maple Hill Farm — Charles F. Dodge.

artillery, Ninth regiment, New Hamp-
shire militia. For a period of forty
3xars he has been conducting lum-
bering business here and in Wiscon-
sin, where he owns valuable interests.
He has been honored as justice of the
peace, selectman, town treasurer, and
representative in the New Hampshire
legislature, and is a very valuable
member of the Baptist societ^^-

The farming interests of the town
are important above every other in-
dUvStry ; yet our farmers are unable
to supply the home market with
grain, ha^-, or flour. lyumbering ab-
sorbs interest
which might be
given to the soil,
and in the end
prove possibly
as profitable to
some farms. All
grains and veg-
etables find a
soil whose prop-
erties result in
profitable pro-
ductions. The cutting of timber
and emigrating of our yoiing people
into the cities, have resulted in the
abandonment of some farms, but the
incoming cit}^ resident, seeking a
country home, has made the number
of abandoned farms few and far be-
tween.

Of our successful farmers we might
well mention first, George Austin
Wason, who has been president of
the Hillsborough County Hor-
ticultural society three years,
master of the State grange four
years, county connnissioner six
years, state senator 1883 to 1885
and icS95 to 1897, representative
1S91 to 1895, trustee of New
Hampshire Agricultural college

William Woodbury.

NEW BOSTON.

219

since 1883, and president of the New
Boston railroad. Honors enough for
one man, worth}^ of them all ! An-
other successful farmer, William
Woodbury, born here on February
8, 18 1 8 (died February 15, 1897,
since this article was written), was
educated in our public schools and
at the Unity Military academy. He
taught school seven years in New
Boston, Weare, and Dunbarton, se-
lectman 1868 and 1869, representa-
tive 1879 and 1880. His present
farm is one of the best, including
river meadow land. of rich character.

The most not-
ed farm in town
is that of Charles
Franklin Dodge,
son of the late
Solomon and
Mary Dodge.
On this farm,
which took first
prize as the best
farm in the
county, Mr.
Dodge was born and has been a life-
long resident. He has served on
the school-board, as selectman, and
has been an active supporter of the
Baptist society.

On South hill is another successful
farmer, Ivcndell Dodge, born there
May 28, 1838; he married Ellen O.
Lamson of Mont \"ernon, December
25, 1871. He has been supervisor and
member of the .school-board, and has
two sons, Edwin H., in trade, and
Will O., who married Cora L. Fiske
of New Boston and is his father's
partner.

George H. Wilson, born in New
Boston, August 22, 1840, is not only
acknowledged as a farmer, but has
made old age comfortably anticipated

Lendell Dodge.

Residence of Lendell Dodge.

by his success as a dealer in cattle.
He married, April 14, 1864, Rachel
Helen Woodbury, daughter of Joshua
E. Woodbury of New Boston. Mr.
Wilson has been survej'or of high-
wa3'S, selectman, and candidate for
the legislature. He. is a loj-al sup-
porter of the Presbyterian society.

Thomas Hixon, retired, was born
at Cornwall-on-the-Hudson, N. Y.,
and since 1871, with the exception of
a few years spent in the West, had
resided in Boston, Mass., where he
was a commission merchant, receiver
of poultr}^ and country produce at 44
North Market street. A little over a
year ago he became a permanent
resident of New Boston, erecting a
modern residence, and is enthusiastic
in his new life as a farmer.

Other successful farmers must be
mentioned in their official or other
business capacity later in this article.

"Valley View Farm," the early
home of the Whipples, now owned
by J. Reed Whipple of the Parker

Residence of Jesse W. Mudgett.

220

Ai5"[[^ BOSTON.

'v.

Ml !

|IR

New Boston Creamery.

House and Young's Hotel, Boston,
is one of the best farms in the state.
Here is a herd of cows, Holsteins, of
best blood, a barn and residence of
modern construction, lands cleared of
stone, each year the acres of produc-
tive soil increasing, all under the
superintendency of C. F. Saltmarsh.
His piggery produces 1,500 pigs per
annum, the success of which is to be
accredited to Mr. James Igo. A
hennery, where thousands of chick-
ens are hatched every year, supplies
his hotels with fresh eggs, chickens,
and fowl, presided over by a young
specialist, Samuel lyconard Harden,
who has made it a success. But the
creamery, which has been written up
in the Granite Monthi^y before,
the manager of which, O. A. New-
ton, has a wide reputation for his
business qualifications, makes over
600 pounds of butter daily for the
hotels, beside sending in a private

New Boston Train and Crew.

refrigerator car each week-day but-
termilk, sweet milk, and cream, pro-
viding a market for all the milk and
cream New Boston can produce..

Between shipping of thousands of
barrels of apples to Europe each sea-
son, carloads of round and finished
lumber, boards, railroad ties, etc.,
our depot master, George E. Rob-
bins, has all he can attend to, and
the business increases. Our train
crew — Conductor William P. Martin,
Engineer Nathan F. Bean, Fireman
Harry S. Colby, and Brakeman Jo-
seph F. Fitts — are so well known to
the hosts of summer travelers, that
to change them
to some other
branch would
not be tolerated
without an em-
phatic protest.

Our merchants
draw' their trade
both from New
Boston and the
edge of surround-
ing towns.

Solomon D. Atwood, son of the
late Rev. John Atwood, came here
from Concord at the age of twelve,
and was educated here and at Colby
academy. New London. He went
into trade with J. K. Whipple as
partner in i860, and with several
changes of firm, except for eighteen
months after the fire of 1887, has con-
tinued in trade to date. He is a
stalwart Republican, a leader in his
part}', postmaster under Republican
rule since 1861, active in the cause
of education, and a generous sup-
porter of the Baptist society-.

Clarence H. Dodge, son of Capt.
Benjamin Dodge, born here on April
22, 1848, is a young man, a very suc-

George E. Robbins.

NEW BOSTON.

221

E ""' ""^ '^""1

S. D. Atwood, Valley View Hall, and Whipple Free Library.

cessful merchant of widening reputa-
tion, whose business and social qual-
ifications have made for him a host of
friends. He married, November 19,
1874, Jennie S. Smith, a daughter of
Thomas Smith, who was born in
Nashua. He is leader in the Demo-
cratic party, has been postmaster
eight years, a Mason of commander}^
degrees, and reliable supporter of the
Presbyterian society, as well as loyal
to all New Boston interests.

C. H. Dodge's Store and the Post-Office.
/

In other callings we must mention
first, J. N. Mclvane, born here on
November 8, 1858, who, beside his
blacksmith and general repair shop,
is engaged in numerous other lines of
w^ork, in which he has constant!}'
employed from 10 to 30 men besides
numerous teams. He is considered a
master mechanic b}^ all who know
him. His brother, J. Reed McLane,
born here August 8, 1S60, has in six

years built up a milling trade,
sale of baled hay and straw,
and coal business, of over forty
thousand dollars per annum,
and the trade increases.

Of our builders we are proud,
and wi.sh more information had
been given us for this article.

George P. Bennett, born in

Alexandria, September 28, 1847,

came to New Boston in 1856,

farmed till eighteen 'A'ears old,

began carpentering with A. C. Wil-

J, N. WlcLane's Shop.

der of Lyndeborough, March, 1866.
Since the fire here in 1S87, Mr. Ben-
nett has built, in addition to other
work, the new Presbyterian church,
the school-house, 12 residences, 4
barns, and the piggery and hennery
for J. R. Whipple.

Albert Goodwin, born in Hills-
borough fifty-two years ago, moved
here with his parents in 1850. He
has been a successful carpenter and

Reed McLane's Mill.

O^T

NEW BOSTON.

Residence of Albert Goodwin.

builder on public and private build-
ings, and is actively engaged with
liis son, George A., as a firm to-day.
He married Martha A. Dodge of
Bennington in 1872, and has been
honored as tax collector and select-
man.

Harry V. Morgan and George \V.
Denni.son, as the firm of Morgan &
Dennison, are two young men of en-
terprise, who in three 3-ears have
built up an annual trade in meats,
fish, and provisions of over $20,000
per annum. They employ several
assi-stants, and use several horses to
carry on their trade.

We are provided with a thoroughly
educated druggist, Frank E. Greer,
a registered pharmacist of fourteen
years' experience, who aims to do an
up-to-date business.

Of skilled mechanics we have not
a few in painting, paper hanging,
harness making, shoemaking, etc.,
so that the wants of our citizens are
met, not to forget a most necessary

institution, a laundry, of which the
prospering proprietor is John N.
Cochrane.

The summer boarding business, so
called, is already an established fac-
tor of unusual character in the pros-
perity of so small a town.

First in importance is the Tavern,
an historic hotel which was a regular
stopping place in the old staging
days from Newport to Boston, Mass.
" Mine host " is J. B. Whipple, born
here February 20, 1838. He is a
brother of J. R. Whipple, of Parker
House, Boston, and with his broth-
ers, including Captain Paul, enlisted
with the volunteers in the Rebellion

Morgan & Dennison.

Frank E. Greer, Druggist.

of i86r to protect Old Glory and pre-
serve our country. He had his hotel
training in Boston, and in 1893 this
hotel, practically rebuilt, was opened
for business. It is noted for dainty
china, home comforts, and most ex-
cellent table, and has as guests, win-
ter and summer, people of promi-
nence in army, nav3^ and other pro-
fessions, as well as business and social
life. Mr. Whipple had to enlarge
his private residence to house the
oft-repeated overflow at the height of
the summer sea.son.

About one quarter of a mile north
of the Tavern is Prospect Cottage,
the home of S. D. Atwood, whose
situation gives a beautiful view of

NEW BOSTON.

22 '

..^'

Summit Farm — S. Lewis Marden.

Maple Ridge Farm — James Warren.

both villages and attracts annually a
large number of guests lo3'al to this
house so appropriately named.

Summit Farm, at an altitude
1,900 feet, Samuel Lewis
Marden, proprietor (a
brother of the Rev. Henry
Marden referred to), three
miles out, gives absolute
quiet and a charming view
for miles, and entertains
every year a large num-
ber of musical people from
Boston, New York, etc.
This house has been im-
proved recently.

Adjoining the above is Highland
Farm, the home of the Misses Batten.
This house was established by the
late Richard Batten, Jr., brother of
the Misses Batten, born in Salem,
Mass., December 13, 1843; served in built to accommodate their
Sixteenth New Hampshire Volun-
teers, moved from Ivyndeborough to

Richard Batten, Jr.

New Boston in 1864. Early united
with Presbyterian church and led the
singing a score of 3'ears. He intro-
duced Holstein Friesian cattle into
this town, and held several
ofhces in church and town.
To accommodate the
guests, prior to his death,
the house was enlarged.
Maple Ridge farm, two
and one-half miles east of
the village, the home of
James Warren, has a small
army of guests each season,
who delight in this cosy
house and genial host.
Those who have visited South
hill as the guests of Mr. and Mrs.
George A. Prince generally report
"satisfied" with their vacation
home. An extra house has been

guests.

a"*

L r

T-f MlTTT Tiyi i iiU yBB'l>''<L'

The Tavern.'

Highland Farnn — The Misses Batten.

224

NEW BOSTON.

Mr. Prince is a native of Amherst,
but came to New Boston as a child
in 1848, where, except three years
in Holyoke, Mass., he has resided.
His wife was Miss Angie M. Wash-

Residence and Cottage ot George A. Prince.

burn of Holyoke. Mr. Prince has
been selectman three years. The}^
have six children, all living, the
youngest sixteen years old.

Nearer the village is Maplewood
farm, the residence of H. H. J.
Read, which accommodates a large
number of boarders.

In the upper village the Green-
wood Plouse, of which Miss Mercy
Dale is hostess, is usually filled with
those who delight in the large old-

Mansfield, is the haven of rest of
some Boston brokers and their fam-
ilies and others. The retired, cosy
home of George Langdell has its ever-
returning guests who delight in its
attractions, while in many a corner
of our town are other summer homes,
each with qvialifications to make a
vacation pass pleasantl}^ '

Band concerts, musicales, socials,
the fairs in August of " Mizpah Cir-
cle," Presbyterian, or the " Ivadies
Circle,*" Baptist, rides to neighboring-
towns to points of interest, all tend to
while away time for those free from
their usual duties.

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WfBoBIt

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III

Sunnyside Farm — J. F. McGuinness.

fashioned house and piazza and shade
trees.

Sunnyside farm, J. l'\ McGuin-
ness, proprietor, is gaining a very
desirable patronage. Mountain View high and Plymouth normal schools,
farm, the residence of Charles W. is teacher ; high school. Miss Blanche

Maplewood Farnn — H. H. J. Read.

Some photos taken in winter and a
few old ones fail to give the proper
idea of the beauty of some or im-
provements in others. At the sea-
son's height our population increases
one half.

New Boston schools are of the
best. A few old-fashioned buildings,
like Joe English, remain, but the
newer houses manifest a modern
tone.

The village school has three de-
partments: Primary, Miss Mildred
C. Warren, graduate of Laselle,
teacher; grannnar, of which Miss
Nettie Baker, educated at Goffstown

NEW BOSTON.

225

Lincoln Carr is teacher. She was
echicated at Wellesle}'.

Seven district schools are sup-
ported, and several buildings more
could be used if required.

Our school-board consists of Charles
Wallace, chairman, an educated car-
penter of successful career ; Charles
H. Colburn, a successful farmer,
elder and superintendent of Sunday-
school of Presbyterian church, as
well as having been selectman of
this, his native town. Miss Marion
Lyford, the third member of the
board, is a retired teacher of large ex-
perience, and has proved a great help
in the educational work of the town.

The Greenwood Guests — Miss Mercy Dale.

Teachers' wages for the school
year iSgs-'gG, were $2,241.96, about
$2 per capita of population.

A fund left by Robert Christy of
Dover, N. H., who died in the
winter of i89i-'92, gives New Bos-
ton the income of one hundred shares
of capital stock of B. & M. R. R.
Mr. Christy was grandson of Deacon
Jesse Christy. His- mother died when
he was but three years old. After
learning the trade of wheelwright
at Mason, at the age of twenty-
one he went to Dover, N. H., arriv-
ing with only fifty cents in his pos-
session. He went to work at once
for the Cocheco Manufacturing com-
pany, and during his life accumu-

lated a property of $125,000. None
of his bequests can be used " for
lands, buildings, or teaching dead or
foreign languages."

The first doctor to reside in Xew

Mountain View Farnn — Chanes W. Mansfield.

Boston was Matthew Thornton, a
signer of the Declaration of Inde-
pendence.

Both medical schools are repre-
sented here, the allopathic by Charles
A. Weaver, M. D., a graduate of
the Universit}' of Vermont, class
of 1 88 1, who, after a year's practice
in Montrose, Colorado, came to New
Boston. The homeopathic school
is well represented by Herbert D.
Gould, M. D., a graduate of the New

Residence of George Langdell.

York Homeopathic Medical college,
class of 1 878. After practising three
years in Newport, N. H., and two
years in Safford Springs, Conn., he
came to New Boston. Dr. Weaver
is a native of Milford, Dr. Gould of

226

JVEJV BOSTON.

C. A. Weaver, M. D.

H. D. Gould, M. D.

Weare, proving some prophets have
honor near their own country.

The histor}^ of the Presbyterian
church begins with the ecclesiastical
history of the town.

At a meeting of the town proprie-
tors, Boston, Mass., December 9,
1738, it was voted to settle an ortho-
dox minister, and build a meeting-
house at a cost not to exceed 600
pounds. It was built on the "plain,"
never finished inside, and but an
occasional service held in it. Tradi-
tion says it was burned. In July,
1767, after considerable conference
between proprietors and settlers as to
location, etc., a house was completed
on "lot 79," on the "south side of
the Piscataqua river, south of a red
oak tree, marked with the letter ' C,'
near the grave of a child buried
there." Tradition says this child
was a daughter of Captain George
Christy, a first settler, and the grave

was included in the church yard
enclosure, — the old portion of the
cemetery. The earliest inscription
on any stone is that of the first town
clerk, Mr. Alexander McCollum,
chosen at the first town-meeting at
Deacon Thomas Cochran's after the
town incorporation, March 10, 1763,
and who held the office till his
death, January, 1768. He was born
in Londonderry, Ireland.

After considerable occasional

Residence of H. D. Gould, M. D.

Residence of C. A. Weaver, M. D.

preaching, the town called their first
pastor. Rev. Solomon Moor, of whom
no picture is extant, who was born
in Newtown, Limavady, Ireland,
1736; graduated at the University
of Glasgow, 1758, licensed by the
Londonderry, Ireland, presbyter}^
July 26, 1762, and ordained, in 1766,
as a minister at large. He arrived
in Halifax in October, and after sup-
plying in Boston, and Londonderry,
N. H., a few Sabbaths, came to New
Boston in February, 1767, where, as
the greater part of the people were
from Londonderry, Ireland, and
Presbyterians (or their immediate
children), he received a welcome and
call to settle. The call was presented
to him August 25, 1767, and with
loss of records, it is believed the
Presbyterian church was organized
the day of Mr. Moor's installation,
September 6, 1768. The session

N/^IV BOS 7 ON.

227

--0..

t, 1

Mildred C. Warren.
Grace M. Shearer.

Bessie M. Hill.
Blanche Lincoln Carr.

Nettie Baker.
Laura Blood.

consisted of Solomon Moor, pastor
and moderator ; Elders T h o m a s
Cochrane, James Person, John

If I i II 1 1

— !■■ li W ai —

Ullage Public School

vSmith, Archibald McMillan, Jesse
Christy, and Robert White. As
Thomas Cochran and Mr. McMillan
were called "deacons" prior to the
above date, and froni other evidence,
this church must have been organ-
ized earlier. Rev. Mr. Moor married
Ann Davidson, daughter of Rev. Mr.
Davidson of L,ondonderry, N. H.,
July 16, 1770. His bride was only
twenty years old. They journeyed
to New Boston on horseback, accom-

panied by friends, were met by a dele-
gate of parishioners e7i route, and the
warm, loving Scotch women carried
the bride from the horse to the bridal
chamber, and thence to the reception
room, where a heart}^ greeting
awaited pastor and bride. After a
pastorate of thirty-four 3'ears, Mr.
Moor died Ma}^ 28, 1803, aged sixty-
seven years. An aged granddaughter,
Mrs. Eliza A. Eeach, lives within a
mile of the old Moor house, and her
conversation, full of Celtic fire and
sparkle, makes one long to have
known " Priest " Moor " in the flesh !"

Joe English" School-house.

228

NEW BOSTON.

Mrs. Eliza A. Leach.

Mrs. Moor lived to reach niuet3'-six
3^ear.s of age, djniig November 22,
1842.

The next pastor was Rev. E. P.
Bradford, D. D., a graduate of Har-
vard, class of 1S03. He studied the-
ology with Dr. Eathrop of West
Springfield, Mass., licensed to preach
in 1804, and November 11, 1805, was
called to the pastorate of this church
upon a salary of $400, and a dona-
tion of $400 upon settling. The
town appointed a day of fasting and
prayer, upon the issuing of this call,
and agreeable to an article in the
town warrant, the town voted " Dea-
con Wm McNeil, Robert Patterson,
Jr., Robert Campbell, Thomas Coch-
ran, Robert Clark, James Person,
Capt. John Cochran, Thomas Smith,
Jr., and George Whiting to be Dea-
cons in the Presbyterian Church of
Christ in this town." vSeveral did
not consent to qualify. This church
seemed to endure a mixture of Pres-
byterianism and Congregationalism,
but as Presbyterian, though never
rigid, became more distinctive, and
has so remained to this day.

Mr. Bradford was installed and
ordained by the Londonderry, N. H.,
Presbyter j% assisted by six Congrega-
tional ministers, Wednesday, Feb-

ruary 26, 1806. Rev. Jesse Appleton
of Hampton, afterward the president
of Bowdoin college, preached the ser-
mon ; text, I Cor., i : 20. The sermon
and charge were printed at the ex-
pense of the town. He purchased a
farm on what is now called Bradford
hill, the present owner of which is
John Dodge, Esq., who takes great
pride in the well-preserved parlor with
its quaint panel work. He married
Mar}^ Manning, daughter of Ephraim
Barker of Amherst, 'September i,
1806. By vote of the church, the
clerk had made a catalogue of its
membership, and the "old deacons"
recorded first were Jes.se Christy and
Robert White, and the elders, Rob-
ert Patterson, Jr., William McNeil,
Thomas Cochran, Thomas Smith,
Joseph Cochran, Robert Crombie,
and Robert Clark. October 24, 1822,
an association of thirty- three men,
" proprietors for building a new Pres-
byterian Meeting House in New Bos-
ton " was formed. Two acres of land
were bought of Mr. Ammi Dodge for
$420. The new church was dedi-
cated December 25, 1823. Dr. Brad-
ford preached a glownng discourse
from II Chron. 6:41. The house,
yet standing, is 60 feet square, with a
projection of 5^ by 36 feet, the posts
30 feet. No plan was made to warm
it. In 1839, on March 21st, an

Elder Moses A. Dane.

NEW BOSTON.

229

Rev. E. P. Bradford.

Rev. E. C. Cogswell.

Elder Marshall Adams.

ecclesiastical society of one hundred
and sixteen members was formed,
which has since been maintained in
a flourishing condition, the town
thereafter declining. to assess or col-
lect for the church.

Among others, Dr. Bradford de-
clined a call to Park Street church,
Boston. He died in this his first pas-
torate, December 14, 1845, after near-
ly forty years' service, in his seventi-
eth year. He was candidate for the
presidency of Dartmouth college in
1819. He had twelve children, ten
of whom, with his wife, survived him.

Succeeding pastorates have been
fashionably shorter, the most marked
of which was that of Rev. Elliott C.
Cogswell, noted as the founder of
Coe's academy at Northwood, N. H.
He was installed by Londonderry
presbytery October 30, 1855, the ses-
sion t^en consisting of Elders Sam-
uel Dane, Marshall Adams, Sumner
L. Christy, and John Newton Dodge.
Mr. Cogswell was here through the
War of the Rebellion and wrote the
centennial history of the town. He
was dismissed November i, 1865.
Of the above session Elder (and Col-
onel) Samuel Dane inherited the
homestead, now the home of his
grandson, Moses Atwood Dane, an
elder of the present session. He had
eight children, Marshall Adams

was born in Rindge March 14, 1801,
and educated in New Ipswich acad-
emy, coming to New Boston in 1823.
He was a dyer and clothier and man-
ufacturer of woolen cloth till 1852,
when he engaged in farming till his
death, twelve years later, in his home
adjoining the old church, in which
he was a faithful official sixty years,
and of which he lived to see his thir-
teen children members. Of Sumner
E. Christy we have but little data,
save that he was a successful farmer
and respected citizen. He married
first, Sarah Hooper, by whom he
had six children. She died May 4,
1854, and Mr. Christy married, as his
second wife, Emily Whiting, daugh-
ter of Captain Whiting. John New-
ton Dodge, born on the farm, which
was his father's and grandfather's,
and on which he died in 1891 at the
age of sixty- nine years, was beloved
by several generations as a consistent

Deacon John Newton Dodge Homestead.

230

NEW BOSTON.

New Presbyterian Church.

man of God, and a Christian gentle-
man. His farm was known for many
years as the home of the finest drove
of thoroughbred Shorthorn cattle in

the state.

home, married Desire A. lyoring,
built a cotton batting mill, running
it till burned. He was selectman
three j-ears. He had twelve chil-
dren, nine are living, two of whom
are physicans, and one a Congrega-
tional clergyman. Two brothers,
also farmers, have cos}^ homes near
him, viz., John M. and David S.
Todd. Elder Thomas R. Cochrane,
born here May 22, 1832, is also clerk
of session and treasurer of the Pres-
byterian society. As the great-great-
grandson of the first deacon and first
selectman, he is a loj'al adherent to
church and town interests. With the
exception of a few years at Nashua
and some time in the West, he has

S.''::<(.--«f.,-.;i*;-i^®*sai4ii«»*

l^^^sa^ii

Rev. and Mrs. J. E. Wildey.

Presbyterian Parsonage.

Rev. John Atwood.

The present pastor. Rev. John
Erastus Wildey, is a member of the
presbytery of Boston, and began his
pastorate here September i, 1894.
The present session consists of
Elder James P. Todd, a "forty-
niner, ' ' who at the age of twen-
ty-eight went to California with
the "forty-niners" on the ship
C/icrok'cc, crossed the Isthmus,
and went from Panama via
the ship Tennessee. San F'ran-
cisco did not possess a wharf
to land the passengers. Com-
ing home via Nicaragua
route, he built up the old

permanently resided in the old house,
where the first town meeting was
held, and where in the old barn of
which was held the

first religious

Residence of Elder Charles S. Colburn.

NEW BOSTON.

231

Bdf)tist Church.

service. He was the first moderator
elected by the Republican party.
He has been selectman four years

ent Amherst church. It was organ-
ized in Amherst, December 6, 1787, of
persons residing in New Boston and
those parts of Amherst subsequently
portions of Mont Vernon and Mil-
ford; few or none residing in what is
now Amherst. In twelve years there
was little hope of the success of the
enterprise. Meanwhile, several had
made a profession of the Baptist
faith and united with the church in
Weare, and on October 4, 1799, Rev.
Mr. Elliott of Mason baptized four-
teen persons in Xew Boston, though
they did not unite with any church.
At a meeting held at Mr. John Whip-
ple's in New Boston, November 23,
1799, it was mutually agreed, on

Rev. Henry (Warden.

Rev. C. W, Burnhanfi.

A. J. Todd, M. D.

and member of the school-board
three years. Elder Charles Story
Colburn, mentioned before as a mem-
ber of the school-board and superin-
tendent of the Sunday-school, and
Elder Moses A. Dane complete the
list. Mr. Dane is a quiet, faithful
supporter of church and town inter-
ests, referred to before as grand.son of
Elder (and Colonel) Samuel Dane.
He is a successful farmer, a super-
visor, and son-in-law of Elder James
P. Todd.

The Baptist church originated from
a previously existing Baptist church
in Amherst, but distinct from the pres-

account of the number of New
Boston Bapti.sts, that the Amherst
church should be in the future
known as the ' ' First Calvinistic
Baptist Church in Amherst and New

, iaia]jO0

Baptist Parsonage.

2 '7,2

NEIV BOSTON.

I. S. Whitney.

J. B. Lang.

Adelaide Newell Colburn.

Boston." Those lately baptized and
those who had joined at Weare unit-
ed with this church, and in iSoo the
number was increased by nineteen
others.

In 1801, the Rev. Josiah vStone be-
came pastor, and in the four years
following fourteen more were added
to their fellowship. Eventually, in
1804, this church by the advice of a
council took the name of the " Cal-
vinistic Baptist Church in New Bos-
ton." The following 3'ear, 1805, a
church was erected in the westerly
part of the town, three miles from
their present house of worship. This
house was 40x32 feet and one story
in height. During this year the

church united with the Warren asso-
ciation, until the formation of the
Boston association. Also this same
year Mr. vStone was installed per-

Corner in Whipple Free Library.

Mantel in Whipple Free Library.

manent pastor. From this time to
18 16, twenty persons additional unit-
ed with this church. A case of dis-
cipline arising, it divided the church,
one body being retained by the Bos-
ton association, the other uniting with
Salisbury. Mr. Stone resigned in
1824, but resided here until his death
in 1839.

A^AIF BOSTON.

^12,

Rev. John Atwood was
born in Hudson, at his
majority went to Water-
ville, Maine, and worked
his waj^ through the lit-
erary and theological de-
partments. He began his
labors here as supply the
first Sunday' in June, 1824,
and was ordained pastor of
the Baptist church. May 18, 1825,
closing his labors here the last
Sunda}' of January, 1836. During

Residence of J. B. Whipple.

his ministry ninety-nine members
were added, the two churches dis-
solved and united again in one bod}",
uniting with Salisbury association,
till 1828, when it became united with

Valley View Farm— J. R. Whipple.

Milford association. In 1833, Feb-
ruary 6, a new church was dedicated
in the lower village, the site of the
present newer edifice. Rev. John
Atwood was state treasurer from 1843
to 1850, also chaplain of the state
prison, residing at Concord. He
returned to New Boston in 1851,
spending the remainder of his life on
his farm, now owned by J. R. Whip-
ple. Mr. Atwood was nominated for
governor by the Democratic party
in 1852, but was thrown over, refus-
ing to endorse a slavery plank, and
stumped the state independently,
transferring the political power into
the hands of Republicans. He rep-
resented New Boston five years in
the legislature. He died in April,
1873, beloved by his fellow-citizens.
Short pastorates have followed, ex-

cept. Paul Whipple.

J. Reed Wh'pple.

J. B. Whipple.

^34

NEW BOSTON.

Eben Dodge.

L. S. Fairbanks.

cept that of Rev. A. T. Foss, who
was pastor, Februar)-, 1836, to Jan-
uary, 1844, and his successor. Rev.
David Gage, whose career covered
ten 3'ears, during which sixty-four
were added to the church. He was
dismissed in 1855. Of recent pas-
tors, the last. Rev. Hartnell J. Bart-
lett, covered a period of six j^ears.
The present pastor. Rev. Christy W.
Burnham, recently of Pawtucket, R. I.,
began his services November i, 1S96.

The present church officials are
clerk, society treasurer, and Sunday-
school superintendent, Mr. J. H. Mc-
Alpine, born in Hopkinton in 1845.
His father, assistant road-master of
Concord railroad, was killed in 1851.
The famil}^ moved to Weare, where
Mr. Mc Alpine was a miller for 25 years.
He then removed to New Boston,
settling on the formerly called Rich-
ard's farm. He has been selectman
in both Weare and New Boston.

The board of deacons consists of
two. Deacon Eben Dodge was born

here in 1831, and is a descendant in
the .seventh generation from Richard
Dodge, who settled in Beverl}^ Mass.
He married Fanny Langdell, of New
Boston, in 1851. His home. Pleas-
ant View farm, was first settled by
Deacon James Person, of Chester,
about 1745, and owned by his de-
scendants until 1 8 15, when it was
bought by John Dodge, of Hamilton,
Mass., and is itow owned by Deacon
Eben Dodge. He has served as
selectman.

Deacon Sylvester Hadley lives over
the line in Weare, and is a brother-
in-law to Mr. McAlpine. He i^ a
prosperous farmer and blacksmith

Deacon Eban Dodge.

L. S. Fairbanks.

and a veteran of the late war.

A Universalist church, organized
early in the centur}^ did not flourish.

Our Catholic families worship in
Goffstown, and Adventists hold ser-
vices at Riverdale.

A Union Y. P. S. C. E., composed
of Baptists, Presbyterians, and others,
meets regularly every Monday even-
ing, of which Edwin H. Dodge is
president; ]{mma G. Hill, secretarj^ ;
and Annie G. Dodge, treasurer.

There is a live Presbyterian Junior
Y. P. S. C. E., which meets Sunday
afternoons, composed of thirty-two
children, of which Mi'S. J. E. Wildey
is superintendent, and Miss Marion
Eyford, assistant.

NEW BOSTON.

235

Rodney McLane.

The terrible fire of Maj' 11, 1887,
necessitated the rebuilding of the
principal buildings, including the
churches, town hall, etc. J. R.
Whipple, of Boston,, gave substan-
tial aid, and in two years the village,
except for shade trees destroyed, had
even a better appearance than be-
fore. The Presbyterians sold the old
church on the hill, and in place of
their chapel in the lower village
erected their . present church, to
which ere long an addition, for a
ladies' parlor or parish house, is to
be added.

At this time, Mr. J. R. Whipple, in
addition to building the creamery,
established the Whipple free library,
containing 1,800 or more of the best
works of fiction, history, poetry, etc.

A popular lecture course has been
sustained for two years past. In
constant) contact with the best edu-

cated classes, our population is unu-
sually intelligent, and visiting clergy-
men and lecturers feel the necessity
of doing their duty at all times.

The covered coaches driven by the
late veteran stage driver, Moses H.
Bradford, who came to New Boston
in 1S50, being no longer needed, are
carefully preserved by his son-in-law,
C. H. Chandler, and used at times
by parties of Bostonians, Mr. Chand-
ler being an experienced driver of
twenty-two years on the road.

With a live grange, a council of
American Mechanics and Daughters
of lyiberty, in addition to various

Rodney McLane, Esq.

Christopher C. Langdell.

Benjamin Dodge, Esq.

church societies, and a bicycle club,
New Boston presents for a small
town unusual attractions to those
seeking sunmier homes or permanent
residence.

Among others who summer here
may be mentioned J. B. Lang, Esq.,
the noted conductor of oratorios,
composer, and teacher of music in
Boston, who has purchased the old
Gregg estate ; James P. Tuttle,
Esq., county solicitor, with office
and winter residence in Manchester ;
Eorenzo Sayles Fairbanks, ICsq., a
Boston lawyer, native of this town,
graduate of Dartmouth, and author
of several legal and mathematical
works. He has in press a genealogy

236

NBIV BOSTON.

C. H. Chandler.

of the Fairbanks famil}^ in America,
1633 to 1897.

Another gentleman who has pur-
chased a home here for old age, is
Imri Silvester Whitney, the "father
of music in the public schools of
Manchester." He was born in Hen-
niker, September 20, 1824, and from
1849 has been widely known as a
teacher of music. Settling in Man-
chester in 1855, he was appointed
teacher of music for puljlic schools in
i860, organized the Beethoven Mu-
sical association in 1864, and has ed-
ucated many fine piano-forte players
and vocalists. He has resided here
since 1883.

Another musician, Adelaide Newell
Colburn, has returned to this her na-
tive town and home to remain indefi-
nitely, recuperating her health. She
was graduated from Francestown
academy, and after teaching four

ij« I

litl M MM

Henry Farley.

years was also graduated in the four
years' course in vocal music from the
New England Conservator)^ in 1888.
She taught music in the Illinois Fe-
male college, Jacksonville, and Wes-
leyan academy, Wilbraham, Mass.;
was organist man}' years in the Pres-
byterian church here, and has sung in
the choirs of Pilgrim church, Nashua,
Methodist Episcopal church, Wilbra-
ham, Mass., and elsewhere.

The most prominent man born in
New Boston is to-day, without doubt,
Christopher Columbus Eangdell,> for
twenty-five years Dane professor of
law, and dean of Harvard University

Butler T. Hills.

law school, Cambridge, Mass. A
man of Scotch-Irish ancestry, now
seventy years of age, at whose anni-
versary as dean of the law school at
Harvard, June 25, 1895, 525 grad-
uates and eminent lawyers honored
him with their presence and a mag-
nificent banquet, Sir Frederick Pol-
lock, Corpus professor of jurispru-
dence of the University of Oxford,
F^ngland, giving the oration, beside
addresses by Mr. Justice Gay, Mr.
Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, and
the Japanese ambassador, with others.
Captain Paul Whipple, brother of
J. R. and J. B. Whipple, who was
born here in 1840, is another man
eminent in another line. At twenty-

^iei'

■"^^

■i

George A. Prince, S<-h-it»m?t.
Charles S. Colburn, Sc/wi'l Board.

.f-

''fec'-^'

iA#

Charles F. Marden, Si-li\-ti>inii.
Henry Kelso, Ri-/>rrsc)itntiTi-.

E. P. Fox, To2un Clerk.

Charles H. Shedd, Tonvii Moderator.

Perley A. Todd, Tax Colleetor.

Elbridge C. Colby.

James C. Tuttle.

John Cronnbie Cochrane.

J. Henry McAlpine.

George C. Warren.

238

A'BW BOSTON.

one j^ears of age he enlisted in Corn-
pan}^ K, Seventh New Hampshire
Volunteers, served throughout the
war, and was discharged captain in
August, 1865. He at once returned
south to Darlington, X. C, and with
the aid of several hundred colored
hands, men, women, and children,
he cultivated his own plantation of
5,000 acres. On his estate are fifty
cabins, a church, and school-house,
for his help, for whom he supports a
teacher and pastor. He has won the
love of the Southerners who at first

Arthur W. Holt.

were his bitterest foes, and has been
honored by them with public ofhce.

Allen Dodge, born here December
27, 1836, a brother of Lendell Dodge,
left home at the age of eighteen, and
after various business changes, has
been since 1872 the successful over-
seer of the Lowell Machine-shop cor-
poration, and a man whose social na-
ture in various ways has won him a
host of friends.

Of New Boston officials not before
named, Mr. Charles H. Shedd,
farmer, born here June, 1850, in his
present and continuous residence, has
been moderator of town and school
meetings almost continuously since
1882, member of the legislature 1895

Mrs. John McLane.

— 1897 ; li^ ^^^s been a member of
the school-board, and is a mo5t effi-
cient officer of the Presbyterian so-
ciet3^ Cool in debate, logical in
thought, and equitable in his spirit
toward all, he has as many friends of
all parties as any other man at pres-
ent in town.

E. P. Fox, Esq., born here June
18, 1839, has been town clerk since
1883 by reelection. He enlisted
April 27, 1 86 1, First New Hamp-
shire Volunteers ; reenlisted in Six-
teenth New Hampshire Volunteers
October 10, 1862, serving till mus-
tered out, reenlisted Eighteenth New
Hampshire Volunteers, September 20,
1864, and served till close of the war.
He is engaged in undertaking and
other interests.

Henry Kelso, our representative to
the New Hampshire legislature this
year, is a native of New Boston, born

The Misses Marden.

NEW BOSTON.

239

February 3, 1843. He was edu-
cated at Mont \'ernon, Appleton
academy, and married Harriet F.
Lamson of Mont Vernon, who is
sister to Mrs. Wendell Dodge.
Except twelve years in a store,
he has always resided on the farm
where he was born.

Perley A. Todd, our tax col-
lector, is a young man who had
expected to enter the ministry.
He was a student in Harvard col-
lege, but his eyes failed, and he re-

George A. Wason, Esq.

1865, educated in our schools, he is
an "out and out" New Bostonian.

luctantl}^ returned home. Entering He is an Odd Fellow of royal purple

the employ of S. D. At wood, after

^p lffi^ y

" Pin Ball, No. I."

two years' confined work in the
store, he had to change to out-of-
door work to preserve his health.

Charles H. Sargent, who grad-
uates from the three years' work of
selectman this spring, is a farmer of
enterprise and a harness maker of
considerable reputation in this sec-
tion, having a .shop in the village and
always busy.

Charles Fisher Marden, the young-
est of our .selectmen, is a mason by
trade, and since 188S has been justice
of the peace. He represents the
New Hampshire Fire Insurance com-
pany. Born here September 20,

degree, and a member of the Baptist
society.

Of our prominent citizens retired
from business, we have quite logi-
cal reasons for placing foremost
the brothers Neil and Rodney Mc-
Lane. They were born in Frau-
cestown, Neil, January 19, 18 16,
Rodne3^ July 18, 1820. For forty
3^ears they were pro.spered here in
the manufacturing of doors, sash,
and blinds. Neil married Sarah
C. KeLso, August 14, 1849, and has
one daughter, Marion Augusta,
wife of John H. Clark, a retired
railroad man of North Chelms-
ford, Mass., residing here. Mr. Neil
McEane was early identified with the
Republican party, as was his brother,
and has been justice of the peace
since 1858, and was a member of

New Boston Huntsnnen — E L Rose, G W. Marden.

240

NEW BOSTON.

the constitutional convention of i88g.
Mr. Rodne}' McLane married, in
1853, Adeline Farley, and has one
son, Charles Sumner, a prosper-
ous law3'er of Kansas City. He
has been justice of the peace for
many years, active in all town inter-
ests. Both gentlemen have ever l)een
loyal to the Presbyterian church so-
ciety's interests.

residences in Albany and Nashua, has
alwaj's lived here.

Of those deceased, James Richard
Cochrane, a great-great-grandson of
the first Deacon Cochrane, was the
first New Boston bo}' to die for his
country in the last war. He was
shot on the street in a Missouri town
by a rebel, Andrew Burritt, in No-
vember, 1861, on his way to enlist in

Henry Farlej^ born in Bedford in the Union army. ,

1823, brother of Mrs. Rodney Mc- James C. Tuttle was born Novem-
Lane, is also a retired business man, berS, 182 1, in New Boston and died

-jTpKca.

Constitution Engine Company.

who with his wife and daughter have
one of the most attractive residences
in the village. Mr. Farley still re-
tains an active membership in the
engine company of the town. He re-
members when Manchester had but
one house.

The oldest resident is Mrs. Re-
becca Patton Crombie, ninety-six
years old in February, 1897, a loyal
as well as oldest member of the Pres-
byterian church. She resides with
her son, Moses C. Crombie, a vet-
eran of Company G, Sixteenth New
Hampshire Volunteers, who was born
here October, 1839, and except brief

here February 19, 1884. He was edu-
cated at Francestown academy, set-
tled on a farm in the east part of the
town, and all his life engaged in
farming and lumbering. He was
first married to Esther Warren of
Goffstown. They had three chil-
dren, all of whom died young. His
second wife, Rachel McNeil, became
the mother of James P., Josiali G.,
and Hattie S., all of whom are living.
James P., educated in Francestown
and Cushing academies and Boston
University law school, is a lawj^er of
splendid reputation and solicitor for
Hillsborough county. Mr. James

SPRINGTIME.

241

Tiittle was a member and loyal sup-
porter of the Presbyterian church,
and at all times a man of positive
convictions and strong and lasting
influence for good.

Elbridge C. Colby, who died No-
vember 9, 1892, was born in Weare
in 1826, and carried on the grist-mill
here for twenty-three years. He was
prominent as a member of the Pres-
byterian societ3% representative in
1882, selectman several years, and
a well-known millwright until his
death. His wife, since deceased,
was Clara C. Smith of New Boston.

That a country lad could become
the best known architect of his daj'
in Chicago, is attested by the career
of John Crombie Cochrane, son of
William, great-great-grandson of our
first deacon. He was educated in
the public schools of this, his native
town and New Ipswich academy.
After four years of business life in
Beverly and Boston, Mass., he stud-
ied architecture in Nashua, and spent
the balance of his life in Chicago.
He designed Illinois state capitol,
Chicago Chamber of Commerce,
Cook County and Michael Reese
hospitals, Cook County infirmary and
Rush Medical college, in Chicago,
Iowa State University medical col-
lege, and a ver}- large number of
court-houses, churches, etc., and,

with his partner, the Iowa state cap-
itol. He died in Chicago December
12, 18S7.

In the preparation of this article,
receiving our information from writ-
ten and printed matter given us, we
have been delighted with the desire
of all to pay tribute to the dead
rather than to the living. In fact,
photographs of living, active, and
honored citizens have been withheld,
that likenesses of deceased fathers
might find room.

Our task is done — honestly if not
ornamentally, and a parting word to
the younger generations of New
Bostonians should of necessity be :
Honor the heritage 3'ou possess, —
love, reverence the memories of the
departed heroes and heroines of
earlier days, and strengthen the
hopes of the fathers who remain, that
the modern improvements of life in
New Boston shall be but an indica-
tion of the advancement, so generalh'
obser\'ed, in all purity and refinement
necessary for the best success.

A hearty welcome, as transient or
permanent guest or resident, is as-
sured all who come to our town.

Not population, but people of
thrift and aspiring character is our
present and future hope.

" Let us make a heaven of earth."

SPRINGTIME.

/)'t' /. ICtiiretic Keeler.

The joyous days of spring
To earth again uufold.
And welcome songs they bring
To hearts of young and old.
The Sun's majestic power
Is royally displaj'ed.

As o'er the hill and vale
His magic wand is swayed ;
Bidding each snow-capped mountain
Uncover its lofty head,
And homage pay to Spring,
For Winter now is dead.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT, NEW HAMP-
SHIRE VOLUNTEERS.

By Adjutant IjttJier Tracy Toiviisend.

CHAPTER VIII. , ^

RETURN TO BATON ROUGE AND EXPEDITION TO BRASHEAR CITY.

HERE had been intima-
tions that our troops
were to make another
advance by the way of
the Clinton road to Port
Hudson. The hearts of our men sank
at the thought not of meeting the
enemy but of the muddy bayous and
cedar swamps that stretched between
us and that stronghold of the enemy.
Having but recently been in these
swamps, we were, of course, just the
men to be .sent there again ; such we
thought would be the decision of our
superior officers. It soon became
apparent, however, that the con-
templated move was to be south, not
north, and late in the afternoon of
March 20 our regiment found itself
again on its old and filthy camp
ground at Baton Rouge. Five days
later, in answer to our appeals, al-
most demands, for another camping
ground, the authorities ordered our
removal to a point overlooking the
the river and shaded by a magnifi-
cent grove of magnolia. Here, amid
the songs of mocking and other birds
and the refreshing shade of lofty
trees, we passed .some of the most
delightful days of the entire cam-
paign. Many of the men rallied
surprisingly quick from the effects
of the .severe experiences and ex-

posures through which they had just
passed.

Among the various duties of tho.se
days were regimental inspections.
At one of these an officer, a young
West Pointer, pas.sed .some very
severe criticisms upon the clothing
and accoutrements of our men. The
adjutant was not the onl)^ one in the
regiment who would have taken su-
preme delight in holding that fellow
bodily under the mire through which
we had marched, not until smothered
to death, but until the upstart had
learned something of our baptism in
that ditch water and mud through
which we had marched and by which
our clothing had been soiled past
redemption.

April 3 our encampment on the.se
grounds, the pleasantest we had
occupied since leaving New Eng-
land, was broken up and we were
ordered on board the transport Iber-
ville and proceeded down the Missis-
sippi, disembarking at Algiers oppo-
site New Orleans. Four days after
reaching that place we received or-
ders to put in storage all surplus bag-
gage ; this was to be left in care of
tho.se members of the regiment who
were too sick or enfeebled to make
the contemplated advance. Our late
experiences had taught us valuable

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

243

lessons and, therefore, everything
that could possibly be dispensed with
was placed in the storehouse. No
man was disposed or foolish enough
to take with him any relic or curi-
osity, however highly prized ; indeed,
all extra clothing and man}' articles
of comfort in camp life were packed
away and left behind.

At this juncture there came to light
an illustration of the perversity, al-
most total depravity, of human na-
ture. We are sorry to say that the
man who furnished this exhibition
was New Hampshire born and bred,
though it also should be said that
he enlisted not to fight in the ranks
but to , take charge of one of the
teams of the regiment. In the dis-
charge of his duties as teamster he
had made the discovery that when-
ever he chose he could load on to his
wagon articles, useful or otherwise,
without having to give account of
the same either to the quartermas-
ter or any one else. And he also
had learned that he could unload his
team at railway stations or boat
wharves and secure rail and boat
transportation by merely marking
the goods and saj-ing that they were
to be delivered at such and such sta-
tions or ports. Though a teamster
in these Hvays could take advantage
of his position, yet it was not sup-
posed that any one would be dishon-
est, or at least venturesome enough
to use his prerogatives for personal
ends, or that goods would be shipped
except by the order of some army
officer. But here was a man who,
during those days when we had been
undergoing all manner of hardship,
when we had been in danger of an
attack at any hour, day or night,
when sick, wounded, and dying men

had been thick about us, was making
on his own account provision for the
future. In the words of one of our
men who made an invoice of this en-
terprising teamster's possessions and
foragings, — " He had collected at
different places articles enough with
which to set up a junk store."
Among the miscellaneous collection
that he intended and fully expected
to ship North for sale, use, or exhi-
bition w^ere a quantity of grape and
canister, a 24-pound cannon-ball, 80
feet of cable chain, a quantit}^ of cane
fishing poles and knives for cutting
cane, the last of which he had mis-
taken for Confederate implements of
war; there were also in his posses-
sion 19 cast-off muskets.

He had been successful in reach-
ing Algiers with these accumulations
of his industry and forethought, but
when attempting to store them with
the baggage of the regiment his
scheme was discovered and his heart-
less comrades, greatly to his mortifi-
cation, made an exhibition of them
on a grass plot near the store house,
charging, however, no admission fees.

On the night of April 7 there was
no sleep for the officers of the regi-
ment and only little for the men. At
an early hour the line was formed,
but no movement was made until
nearly ten o'clock, when we were or-
dered on board a train of fifteen fiat
freight-cars that stood on the tracks of
the Great Western railwa}^ and then
we learned that our destination was
Brashear City, eighty miles distant.
That this expedition was to be one of
considerable magnitude was apparent
from the fact that all available troops
and army munitions and supplies
were hurried on to Berwick bay as
rapidly.

244

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

The Great Western railwaj^ fol-
lows the Mississippi river almost due
west for about twenty-five miles and
then runs southwest, at first past

they had to be carried from the cars
and laid on the ground by the road-
side. But we had seen too much
hardship of other kinds to utter one

immense plantations on which were word of complaint against the poor

large quantities of sugar-cane, un-
gathered for lack of laborers, and
then for miles and miles through
dismal swamps where hundreds of
young alligators could be seen swim-
ming in pools, sleeping on hum-
mocks, or basking in the sun. We
greatly desired to engage in musket
practice on these fellows, but had re-

railroad accommodations afforded us.

After leaving the train we marched
about five miles to Brashear City,
which like many other Southern and
like not a few Wester A cities was a
small town, such as would be called
in New England a village.

Here the Sixteenth and the Fourth
Massachusetts were detached from

ceived emphatic orders not to do so. their divisions and assigned to pro-
At three o'clock in the afternoon vost-guard duty, Lievitenant- Colonel
we passed General Grover's splendid Fuller being appointed "commander
division of fighting troops, who after of the post."
leaving Baton Rouge, instead of com-
ing by New Orleans as we had done,
had disembarked at Donaldsonville
and marched thirty-five miles over-
land, successfully clearing that part
of the country of several strong de-
tachments of the enemy.

These troops under Grover were
held back until the other troops
passed on ; the object of this deten-
tion was for Grover to make a rapid
march along the strip of land lying
between Lake Palourede and Bayou
Boeuf, towards Franklin. By this

At this time we were living in
shelter tents and quite contrary to
our desires were forced to do garri-
son duty instead of advancing with
the other troops of our division, who
were soon to pursue the retreating
enemy up the Teche country.

On the night of our arrival we
were ordered to be prepared for an
attack before moving and that we
must defend Brashear City ' ' at all
hazards." We put ourselves in read-
iness to meet the enemy, but he did
not appear. During that and several

move he was expected to cut off the succeeding nights there was no sleep

Confederate troops should they at-
tempt to retreat north when pressed
by our forces at Berwick bay.

At Bayou Boeuf ended the car ride
of the Sixteenth, of which we did not
complain though the road was in
poor condition, rough and out of re-
pair, and though the sun's rays at
times were blistering hot and though
the flat freight-cars were without so
much as a piece of board for a .seat.
Some of our men were .so overcome
by the tiresomeness of this ride that

at all for some of the men and very
little for any of them. Our beds
were the ground, our tents a piece of
cotton cloth open at both ends, and
such armies, not of Confederate
troops but of mosquitoes, filled the air
after sunfall as we did not know
could be mustered for service any-
where in the world. They seemed to
come in clouds and it was one des-
perate fight for life till morning.
This we endured several nights until
our requisition for mosquito netting

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

245

could be filled. Not all our men
were supplied at the first issue, and
the unsupplied ones in some in-
stances offered as high as four dollars
for a piece of this netting, though
it cost the government onl\- a few-
cents ; this fact gives some idea of
the torture experienced 1)\' us during
the first few nights of our stay at
Brashear Cit>-. vSome of our men in
their desperation and at the risk of
smothering to death folded them-
selves up in tent cloth and in sail
cloth found on the wharves.

The importance of the defense of
this place to any careful obsen-er was
appa:rent enough, for here was the
ba.se of supplies, and in ca.se the ad-
vancing columns of our forces in the
Teche campaign were repulsed, the
safety of the retreating army would
depend largely upon the possession
by our troops of this vitally strategic
point at Brashear Cit}-. The gravity
of the situation and our responsibility
in the matter of defense were keenh-
felt by our officers. Among other
duties assigned us was the loading
and unloading of cars and tran.sports,
which was exceedingly di.sta.steful ;
the care of the sick of other regi-
ments who were left here by the ad-
vancing troops was also one of our
duties, '^his service was a painful
one, and all the more so becau.se
other requirements occupied almost
ever}' available moment of our time
and we had for the.se .sick soldiers
neither hospital .stores nor a hospital
building nor even a ho.spital tent.

These .sick and dying men, without
suitable food, with no adequate pro-
tection, bled and poi.soned by mos-
quitoes, l)reathing an atmosphere
loaded with malaria, their clothing
soaked at nitrht with heavv dews and

occasional showers, and by day their
faces and hands almo.st blistered by
the hot rays of the sun, were dying
in numbers that were startling. We
should have done more for these sick
men if we could have bought from
the .stores of the town or from sutlers
articles and provisions that would
have been of benefit, but our monev
was gone and pay day had been long-
delayed.

Our journal states that "April 10
was a day of unusual activity.
Troops rapidly were pushing for-
ward : arm}- supplies were arriving
from New Orleans and were des-
patched to the front : cars loaded
with sick men were arriving from
New Orleans and were left here to
grow sicker and die ; at lea.st, if
there were other reasons for leaving:
them no one could tell what they
were."

General Banks's headquarters were
still on the Bra.shear side of the At-
chafalaya bayou. General Weitzel
crossed to Berwick by ferry earl}- in
the morning of April 10, and General
Emory crossed in the afternoon of the
same day. Before evening there was
considerable firing as the Federal
lines felt their way towards Franklin.
The general advance, however, did
not take place till the next dav,
April r i .

Our regiment, meanwhile, was be-
ing scattered. Two companies, B
and F, were sent up Bayou Atcha-
falaya about two miles to strengthen
the garri.son at Fort Buchanan,
whose armament consisted of .seven
thirty-pound guns. The object was
to protect General Groxer's division
and also to prevent a raid on Brash-
ear City from the north.

Company A was sent on outpost

>46

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

duty four miles south of Brasliear to
guard against an attack by guerrillas
from that quarter.

A number of men belonging to
Company C under command of Lieu-
tenant Wilkins of Company I, every
commissioned officer of Company C
being at that time sick or on de-
tached duty, were sent across the
bayou to Benvick and then west on
an untracked but partially graded
railroad bed to report on the feasi-
bility of establishing an army tele-
graph line in that direction.

The following spicy account of this
expedition is given by one of the men
in these words: "We crossed the
bayou to Benvick b}- boats from gun-
boat Arizona, and being in heavy
marching order, we borrowed a mule
and a horse cart. To this cart we
harnessed the mule and into it we
loaded our knapsacks and all our
luggage except our rifles. We start-
ed up the graded railroad bed which
ran through a heavy-timbered swamp.
There were deep ditches full of water
on either side of us. We proceeded
in this way till we came to a break
in the road-bed filled with water, too
wide and deep to cross. Having no
pontoon-bridge with us, and nothing
with which to build a bridge, we
were obliged to return to Berwick,
w^hich we reached early that evening,
— thanks to the mule and cart. The
ditches each side of this graded rail-
road were wide and deep, and the
snakes and alligators were very num-
eroiis. On our way out we were
very quiet, as the Rebs might dis-
cover us and cut off our return.
But on the way back to Berwick
we indulged ourselves in shooting
huge snakes and alligators. I shot
one snake and four alligators. On

reaching Berwick, which was quite
a village of deserted houses and one
hotel, there being no inhabitants ex-
cept two or three sick or wounded
Rebs in some of the houses, we took
possession of the vacant hotel, dis-
covered a cistern 'of good water and
some iron kettles. We made a fire
in a brick fireplace, and some of
the boys, with the aid of negroes,
brought in their pant-legs tied up
sweet potatoes in quantity from a
plantation near-by which the dar-
kies had told us of. We put on the
I ettles, and soon had all the good,
boiled sweet potatoes we could eat,
and .as none of us had had a potato
for a long time, we were in good
condition to appreciate them. After
satisfying our hunger, pipes were in
order, and with our heels on the rail-
ing of the verandah, with not a man
on guard, with the full moon shining
as only the Southern moon in that
latitude can shine, we enjoyed our
surroundings and situation to the
fullest extent. Later we selected our
several rooms, and lying on our
blankets (the furniture in this hotel
was gone except a few chairs and
boxes we used for seats), we slept
the sleep of tired boys till some one
woke up about midnight and woke
all the rest, saying, ' I am hungry.'
'So say we all of us,' was the re-
sponse. The kettles were once more
filled, fire made up, and another sup-
]ier of sweet potatoes was enjoyed,
followed by pipes as before, and we
thought we could then sleep till
morning, which we did. We had
breakfast of sweet potatoes, antl then
signaling the Arizona, she sent a
boat for us, and we returned to our
regiment and company."

The companies of our regiment

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

that were not on detached duty but
were still at Brashear, as also those
•at Fort Buchanan, were constanth' in
expectation of a raid by guerrillas or
an attack by Confederate gunboats
that were just above us on the bayou.
The Queen of the West, one of the
enemy's boats, or rather one of ours
that had been captured b>- the Con-
federates, was of sufhcient armament
and strength seemingly to send our
entire fleet, then at Brashear, to the
bottom, had an attack been made.

After the main army was on the
way up the Teche road and near
Franklin, the Oiceett of t tie West 3.\\<\
her escorts were seen slowh- drop-
ping down the ri\-er toward Fort Bu-
chanan with the manifest intention of
taking it and also of recapturing
Brashear city. Had she succeeded
in doing this, both fort and town,
with all the stores in them, would
have been captured, the base of sup-
plies cut off, and a retreat of our
army across Berwick Bay to Brashear
and to New Orleans would have been
out of the question. There was, as
can easily be imagined, no little
trepidation among those who under-
stood the perils that threatened us
when the Queen of the West was seen
approaching the fort. But Captain
D. P. Upton, as he was called by us
(and he was in every way worthy of
the title, though only a lieutenant
commander), was not asleep. By a
belt of trees his boat was well con-
cealed from the Confederate fleet.
He ordered his gunners to clear the
decks, and to open fire the moment
the enemy's boats appeared in full
sight. This they did. But the shots
went wide of the mark. The Con-
federate captain, meanwhile, did not
deign to waste his amnumition on

our little craft. Captain Upton, be-
coming impatient with the poor
marksmanship of his gunners, said,
"Let me sight that gun." He did
so and the shell flew on its way,
landed in the magazine, and instanth-
a part of the Queen of the Jl^est went
into the air ; she was set on fire and
soon after sank to the bottom of the
bayou. The other boats of the Con-
federate fleet were in disma\-. The>-
wondered what sort of ordnance our
fleet was using; next, they were seen
.steaming as rapidly as possible up
the bayou till lost from sight.

It was the privilege of the Six-
teenth to conduct the famous Captain
Fuller of the Queen of the ]Vest to its
guard quarters. The fallen com-
mander seemed quite dazed at his
capture and the loss of his boat at a
moment when he was perfectly sure
of playing havoc with the Nineteenth
army corps, which seemingly would
have been the case but for that fortu-
nate shot of the Arizona.

Our boys also that day placed
under guard eighty other Confederate
prisoners, among whom were Cap-
tain Sunnners, an accomplished ar-
tillery officer, son of the commander
of the Albania, and Lieutenant \'in-
cent, said to be the officer who not
Ions: before ordered his men to fire
upon unarmed X^nion prisoners in the
city of Richmond.

The fighting, meantime, near
Franklin had been severe, but on the
whole the Federal troops were having
the advantage. During the three
days, beginning April 14, there were
1.300 prisoners brought into our lines,
many of whom were badl\- wounded.
Our regiment had not a little to do in
guarding and caring for the.se men.
The Ihiion troops that suffered most

248

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

during these three clays were the
Twenty -sixth Connecticut, and the
One Hundred and Fifty-ninth New
York, whose wounded men on reach-
ing Brashear came under our care.
The loss in the first mentioned of
these two regiments was fearful and
sickening.

In a single engagement, the colo-
nel was shot through the mouth, and
subsequently died; the lieutenant-
colonel and adjutant were both killed
outright ; and fully hall the men
killed or mortally wounded.

miscarried, the fatality of these troops
and other losses incurred while mov-
ing up the Teche country would have
been prevented.

The intention of General Banks
appears to have been to capture the
entire Confederate force at some
point near the town of Franklin ;
and except for somebody's trick or
blunder this could have been easily
done.

The facts are these: On the tenth
of April, as we have seen, Generals
Weitzel and Emorv had crossed the

Dm . [11

'«■ i^ X ^ X X « CONFEDEBATt
X X X X XXV INFANTQY

CONFEDEQATE ACTIH-t-OY

< X

■< X

> X

■.'■'•
o

•,;>x X X X X

•^-, ox X X X X J
'.".'^ ^f" CONN,

■','p

'■-'■n
.r ni

'.,-1^

X X
X

X , X X

X XX

X X

This fatality was all the more dis-
tressing because it easily could have
been prevented. If only a few men
had been deployed on the left flank
of these two advancing regiments,
the concealed Confederates would
have been discovered and the slaugh-
ter prevented.

The above diagram, which was
furni.shed to the adjutant by one of
the wounded Confederates, will make
the matter perfectly clear :

As will hit seen, the Confederate
troops that were in amlnisli at the
left had the Twenty-sixth Connecti-
cut completely at its mercy.

We may add, too, that if the gen-
eral plan of this campaign liad not

bayou from Brashear City to Berwick
Bay, and on the eleventh began their
march towards Franklin.

Weitzel was to keep well in the
rear of the enemy, while Emory was
to flank him on the left. Meanwhile,
Grover, by a quick and unsuspected
move, was to cross the bayou at a
point above the enemy and cut off his
retreat north. But owing to some
misdirection, Crrover had moved his
division to an unfavorable place on
the ba>-ou, and therefore had to coun-
termarch before crossing it. The.se
unfortunate and needless movements
and delays enabled the enemy to dis-
cover the intention of Grover, and
before lie reached PVanklin to co-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

249

operate with the other divisions, the
Confederates were quietl}^ and safely-
retreating toward New Iberia, fight-
ing while on the way, and doing our
troops all the damage the}' could.

The accompanying diagram will
aid the reader in following the move-
ments we have been describing :

into the business of giving assistance
and protection to those who were gath-
ering cotton, sugar, and molasses,
shipping them to Brashear City and
New Orleans. This doubtless was a
legitimate business, but whether our
troops should have been delayed for
such a purpose is a grave question.

After the three divisions under
Weitzel, Emory, and* Grover had
formed a junction they followed the
retreating Confederates as far as
Opelousas, about one hundred and
fifteen miles north of Berwick, where
they went into camp from April 20 to
May 5, or in other words, they went

A general order issued bv General
Banks at this date will be of interest
to our readers, and is such, perhaps,
as will justil\- a departure from the
design we set forth in the preface
that we would not give in this his-
tor\- the text in full of the army
orders issued :

250

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT

Headquarters Department of the Gulf.

Near Vermillionville, April 19, 1863.
General Order No. 28.

The morning salute celebrates the anniver-
sary of the battles of Lexington and Concord
in 1775, and the assault upon American troops
at Baltimore in 1861. The day is consecrated
to union and liberty. Soldiers, you have ex-
hibited your devotion to its hallowed memo-
ries and the principles it represents. In peace
you contributed in every professional and in-
dustrial pursuit to the prosperity and power
which gave a world-wide renown to the Amer-
ican states. In war you have learned to en-
dure fatigue, suffered deprivations, conquered
difficulties, and achieved victories. In three
months you have become soldiers ; you have
defeated the enemy, dispersing his army and
destroying his navy. In twenty days you have
marched three hundred miles, fought four en-
gagements, expelled him from his fortifica-
tions, driven him at the point of the bayonet
from Berwick City to Opelousas, captured ten
guns and two thousand prisoners, including
some of his best officers of all arms, and made
the reorganization of his forces for the present
impossible, by depriving him of all the ma-
terial resources of war, destroying his foun-
dries, and demolishing his salt works, that for
two years have sustained the life of the Con-
federacy.

The navy of the Gulf shares in the honors of
the campaign. It has encountered and dis-
persed the fleet of the enemy, and sunk the
Queen of the West. To-day it will reduce the
fortifications at Butte la Rose and open the
Atchafalaya to the Red river and Cortableu to
Washington, of Louisiana.

Let us be grateful to Him who giveth us the
victory and true to the cause we defend.

New glories are before us. The Army of the
Gulf will command the attention of the people,
and every eye will be fastened upon its move-
ments. Let us be true to the flag we bear, and
remember that "to defy danger is to drive it
into the ranks of the enemy."

By command of Major-General Banks.

Richard B. Irwin, A. A. G.

•
Prioi: to these movements up the

Teche country there had been com-
munications between Generals Grant
and Banks as to a cooperation of the
two armies in the reduction of Port
Hudson and Vicksburg and the
clearing of the river between these
two points. These measures had
been strenuously urged by the author-
ities at Washington, General Halleck
being especiall}- emphatic in the ex-
pression of his desire to have the two
armies operate in conjunction. But
owing to the halting of our troops at
Opelousas, and also in conseqvience
of a lack of definiteness in some of
the verbal despatches and of delays in
the transmission of some of the writ-
ten ones, the proposed scheme fell
through and Grant kept all his troops
at Vicksburg and Banks was left to
manoeuvre his as best he could.

Note. The author desires suggestions or corrections from any comrade of the Sixteenth or any other regiment.

[To be continued.^

CLISBE.

By Virginia C. Hollis.

Once dear delights, but now delights no more,
Our wonted haunts along the rocky shore ;
I fear me much my sweetheart is decoyed.
For Clisbe comes not, and the world is void.

No other maid has half so fair a face.
No other form has such a lissome grace,
No voice is set to such melodious tune ;
Alas for me if Clisbe comes not soon.

The sunbeams find reflection in her eye,
TvTature salutes when Clisbe passeth bj^,
Her trailing robes in turn caress the grass ;
Ah me ! ah me ! where is my winsome lass?

O clouds of melancholy, pass away ;
O rain of tears, what shall your deluge stay?
Lo ! peeps the sun — prismatic tints appear,
All is resplendent — Clisbe draweth near!

POLIvY TUCKER.

By Annie J. Conwell.
CHAPTER X.— Concluded.

THURSDAY, March 2.

Well, I found out al-
niost immediately. Just
as I closed your pages
last night, Mother called
me down stairs and told me that Al-
fred had been talking with her and
Father about the understanding be-
tween us, — (she called it the iindcr-
standing ! our engagement ! ) had told
them his story and asked them to
consent to our being married in June.
In reply, Mother said that both she

and Father disapproved of unequal
marriages. Alfred knew nothing of
the life that I had alwa^'S lived, while
his world was one unknown to me.
While they did not forbid our en-
gagement, they wished no mention
to be made of it outside the family,
for one year. During that time we
might correspond if we liked, but
that there should be no talk of mar-
riage before two years from this time.
Alfred pleaded hard, but they were
firm, and he had to accept this as

252

POLLY TUCKER.

their final decision. T know Mother
too well to expect her to change her
mind, and Father is ahvays governed
by her judgment in important de-
cisions.

Of course I am somewhat disap-
pointed, but two years will soon pass.
I have much to do and to learn be-
fore I shall be ready for a place by
Alfred's side. I mean to read and
study and try to . make myself like
those fine ladies who talked so easily
and moved so gracefully at the party.
Then it will take me about two years
to do all the spinning that will be
necessary if I am to keep house for
myself. Oh, I am not impatient. I
shall be too busy to have time to be
lonely, even when Alfred goes away,
which he told Mother he should do
soon.

Mon., Mar. 6.

Alfred' came down to say good-by
to us last night. He said if by wait-
ing he could not take me to New
York with him, it would be better for
him to go at once. He is bitterly
disappointed and inclined to think we
have been hardly used, but I tried to
tell him how it seems to me and he
went away more reconciled to the
waiting time. He doesn't in the least
understand having his will crossed,
and he frets, and makes himself quite
wretched about it. He thinks it is
grief at leaving me — and so it is,
partly, but he could leave me more
easily and feel happier about it if he
had planned to do so, instead of hav-
ing some one else do the planning for
him. The poor fellow has the worst
of our waiting, for while I shall be
bvisy all of the time, he will have
nothing to do except " be a gentle-
man." What a crusty old fellow
that uncle must have been, anyhow !

Mon., Mar. 27.

Almost a month has passed since
Alfred left me and since I wrote here
last ! I am so bus}- all the time that I
cannot write as often as I would like.
When Alfred went away, he prom-
ised to send me books that I might
read an,d study as I wished to, which
he has done. I spend all the time
that I can spare, over them ; and
that, with my spinning and letter
writing, keeps me from you. Alfred
is a tireless correspondent, and it
takes a good deal of time to answer
his letters. It is a pleasant task,
however, for I am never happier than
when I am writing to him, if I ex-
cept the time that I am reading his
letters to me.

June I.
• This is the first day of the month in
which Alfred wished to be married.
Even now I see the wisdom of defer-
ring that event, for the more I study,
the more I realize how much I need
to. The country is lovely at this
season, and it would be harder to
leave it than it would be if the
springing grass and sweet early flow-
ers were asleep under a snowy
blanket. I should be perfectly hap-
py if only Alfred were here ! But
then, his letters are as delightful as
ever. He writes me that he is very
busy all the time, as the property is
a large one. He proposes to ac-
quaint himself with the details of the
care of it, and as he is unu.sed to
business, it is something of an under-
taking. He writes me just what
occupies him and I in turn tell him
of our home interests.

July 12, 1809.

A mo.st dreadful thing happened
near here la.st week, which I will write
a full account of, as I want to remem-

POLLY TUCKER.

253

ber every detail of it — though I am
hardly likely to forget anything that
has filled the whole county side with
horror. Early iu the afternoon of
the Fourth of July, we were startled
by a fearful noise that sounded like
the loudest thunder, only there were
several reports, which followed each
other in rapid succession. The house
shook, windows clattered, and dishes
in the closet were thrown down and
broken by the shock. Of course we
all rushed out of the house, suppos-
ing that we were in the midst of an
earthquake ; but the groiind was firm
and the sky clear except off to the
northeast, where a heavy cloud of
something that looked like, smoke
was rising above the tree-tops, and
filling the air with a strong, sul-
phurous odor.

' ' It must be an explosion at the
Fort and a heavy one, too," ex-
claimed Father.. "I guess I had
better go across and see how bad
things are, for they may need help
down there," and away he ran to the
boat-house.

Mother and I watched him cross
the field to the creek, and then row
down stream until the rocks and
trees hid him from our view, just
because we were too anxious and
frightened to want to go into the
house by ourselves. We watched
and waited for his return till dusk,
and when he did not come then, we
were sure something had happened
to him.

About eight o'clock'he came home,
covered from head to foot with smoke
and dirt, and looking like a ghost.

" Why, Father ! What is the mat-
ter ; are you hurt ? ' ' cried Mother
and I in terror.

"No, I'm all right," he repHed,

"but there has been an explosion at
the fort and a fearful one, too. I
don't want any supper," he added,
seeing the table ready for him, "so
>ou can clear awa^* as soon you like.
As soon as I have changed my clothes,
I '11 tell you about the accident," and
he went directly to his room. Mother
and I were just ready to sit down
when he returned to the kitchen, and
throwing himself upon the sofa, pro-
ceeded to give us an account of his
afternoon's experience.

"After I left here," he said, "I
went down to the creek to Great
Island, following the direction of the
smoke which still hung over the
lower point of the island. As I ap-
proached the fort, I saw, floating on
the water, pieces of board and frag-
ments of what looked like wreckage,
while boats of every description filled
with men and boys were making for
the landing. We were all bent on
the same errand, and as no one was
wiser than another, it was useless to
ask questions ; but questions were
unnecessary, for even while we were
landing, we saw before us through
the smoke, the house of Colonel Wal-
bach, partially ruined. The side
nearest us was stove in and w^e
could look into the dining-room and
see in one huge heap, the ruins of
furniture, table, and banquet. Frag-
ments of food, dishes, and pictures,
mingled with plaster and laths from
walls and ceiling, and everything in
the room was smashed beyond recog-
nition.

' ' But the scene outside beggars
description. Pieces of iron, timber,
cannon-balls, and charred human
flesli, were mixed in one horrible,
sickening mass. The grass was
strewn with pieces of burned cloth-

J54

POLLY TUCKER.

ing from which was likely to pro-
trude an armless hand or a leg with-
out body or foot. For a few mo-
ments, everybody was paralyzed with
horror, but we soon rallied from this
and began to search for the victims
of the disaster. At first it seemed
impossible to tell how many had
been killed or injured, but after
searching about three hours, we
learned that only seven people had
been killed and six soldiers and
several citizens comprised the list
of the wounded ; then we knew that
further search was unnecessary and
applied ourselves to clearing away
the traces of the accident. It was
dreadful work ! Why, the leg of one
poor fellow w^ho was dismembered,
was blown through a heavy door
over the dining-room, leaving a hole
in the door the shape of his foot,"
and Father covered his eyes with his
hand, as if to shut out the gruesome
sight.

" Horrible ! " " Fearful ! " we shud-
deringly exclaimed.

' ' What caused the explosion ? ' '
asked Mother.

' ' The Colonel and his invited
guests were at dinner," said Father,
"and outside visitors had just as-
sembled on a platform on the north-
west corner of the fort for a contra
dance. On the northeast corner of
the fort, two ammunition chests
containing three hundred and fifty
pounds of powder and one containing
balls, were placed on the platform
near the house where the colonel and
his friends were dining, and there
w^ere also on the platform seventeen

two-pound cartridges, for the sa-
lute. It appears that the small car-
tridges were to have been placed in
the ammunition chest, but the ser-
geant thought that they felt damp and
left them in the sun for a while, to dry.
The wind probably carried a spark
from a lighted linstqck to the car-
tridges, and the explosion followed.
It was an awful occurrence, and one
that no person who was present will
ever forget, although the loss of life
was not so great as was at first sup-
posed. Ephraim Pickering of New-
ton was one of the victims — he was
killed. You remember him, do n't you,
Wife ?

' ' The bod}^ of one of the two
privates who were killed, was found
'way down by the lighthouse, below"
low- water mark. There were sev-
entj'-four men stationed at the Fort
before the explosion. Among the
Colonel's guests were two physicians
from Riverside, both of whom were
tireless in their exertions in behalf
of the w^ounded and through their
prompt efforts more of the wounded
will probably recover than, from the
nature of their injuries, one would
have a right to expect.

' ' The countersign given out on the
Fourth was ' Dreadful.' "

Father was so unnerved and we
were so shocked b}- the recital, that
no one cared to talk, so we soon sepa-
rated for the night, though I doubt
if any one in the house slept much
that night.

The remains of the soldiers were
buried with the honors of war, in a
common grave, last Sunday, July 8.

CHAPTER XI.
Aug. 7. the middle of July. He conies here
Alfred has been in Riverside since frequently, but of course he can't

POLLY TUCKER.

255

come as often as when he had no care
of any kind. Madam Sherburne drove
down here with him a while ago and
invited me to go to Riverside and
make her a visit of several days, but
Mother was not willing for me to stay
so long ; she would only promise that
I might vSpend a day there, so last
Thursday I went and had such a
happy day ! Alfred drove down after
me, and I was glad to learn that I
was to be the only guest at his aunt's
that day, for I have a nervous dread
of meeting their friends. I hope it is
only a temporary feeling, but I am
always a little uncomfortable when I
am brought in contact with Alfred's
friends and he is near ; probably be-
cause I know that I suffer by com-
parison w'ith them and I hate for him
to see it. Alfred is changed some-
what, since he went away ; I can
hardly tell how, but very likely it is
the result of having some responsi-
bility beyond finding amusement for
himself, that has made him less boy-
ish and more mature. He was as
agreeable and entertaining as possi-
ble all the w^ay up to town, and I
was happy. It was enough for me
just to sit by his side and listen to
his conversation, wdthout allowing
myself to miss any of the old-time
brightneps.

When we arrived at Major Sher-
burne's, the door was opened by old
Peter, the white-haired, negro ser-
vant, who condescended to bow to me
with grave cordiality as he ushered
me into the drawing-room. I was
almost as much flattered by his silent
greeting as by Madam S.'s kind,
motherly one.

"My dear Polly!" she said, "I
am very glad that you are here at
last. I was afraid that vour g:ood

mother might repent and refuse to
lend you to me for one day, even,"
and she kissed me affectionately.

"Well, Miss Polly, how do you
do?" inquired the Major, who now
came forward and shook hands with
me cordially. "I don't blame Mrs.
Tucker for keeping you close, my
dear, for you are not likely to be left
with her very much longer, and she
had better make the most of the time
that she has you with her. Where's
Alfred, Wife? " he asked in the same
breath.

"Gone down to the stable, for a
moment," replied Madam S., while I
sat there wondering if Major S. could
possibly have had any design in
making that remark and then intro-
ducing Alfred's name at once. Just
then Alfred came in. "Now Alfred,"
said his aunt, "I w'ant you to help
me decide what will entertain Polly
most, to day. You know we can
ha^'e her onh- one day and so we
must do the best that we can in that
time. Perhaps you have a choice of
how the time shall be spent, \\\y
dear, ' ' turning to Ine ; "I hope you
have, for in that case we shall be
sure to find the right thing."

' ' Pra}' do not think of making
special plans for my entertainment,
for I shall be quite happy right here
with you," I hastened to reply.

" O my dear! two old people like
the Major and myself and a young
rattlebrain like Alfred, would be poor
company for you for a whole day.
No, I want you to have a genuine
holiday. How would you like to see
the new church, for one thing? We
think it well worth seeing, and after
that perhaps \-ou would like to visit
other points of interest in town ?"

"Oh, thank vou! " I cried. "I

256

POLLY TUCKER.

should like it better than anything.
I have never had a chance to look
about in Riverside half enough."

" Very well, we '11 do the church
thoroughl}^ and you shall ?it in the
chairs that Queen Caroline sent
over, — perhaps for that verj- pur-
pose, — who can tell ? " said Alfred.

" O Alfred, what an irreverent boy
3-ou are! " sighed his aunt, while
Major S. chimed in.

" Yes, he was always that ; but if
her Majesty could have been sure
that her chairs would always be so
worthily occupied, she would have
had reason to be satisfied."

" Pretty good. Uncle ! You see
he knows how to turn a compliment
gracefully, Polly. I shouldn't won-
der if he had had considerable prac-
tice in his youth ; it looks like that
to me. How is it, sir ; am I right ? "
questioned his saucy nephew.

' ' What do you know about my
being able to pay a compliment,
young man ? You must own I never
complimented I'f?/ much, — never had
occasion to, you see."

"True enough, in both cases,"
said Alfred. "But come, Polly, we
won 't stay with him any longer ;
let's go into the other room," and
he led the way into the librarj- oppo-
vSite. There he brought out so many
and interesting relics of the genera-
tions that have lived in this hou.se,
that I felt as if we had stepped back
a century.

There was a wonderful miniature
of one of his ancestors painted on
ivory, which was so lifelike and
which Alfred .so much resembled,
that but for the quaint dress of a
bygone day, I might almost have
thought had been painted for him.
When he found that I am very fond

of anything that has historical value,,
he brought out a bundle of auto-
graph letters from Sir William Pep-
perell, President Cutts, I^afa^-ette,
Marquis de Chastellux, John Han-
cock, and ]Vas/ii/icrfo!i. I was almost
afraid to touch these precious papers,
but x\lfred handled tli^em just as he
would ordinary ones, and only
laughed at the awe with which they
seemed to inspire me.

' ' Have you ever noticed the hall ?"
he asked when the letters were re-
placed in the elegant, massive secre-
tary, which is as old as the house is.
• " Only that it is grand and beauti-
ful," I replied.

"These antlers," he explained, as'
we passed out into the hall where
they hung, "were given by a friendly
Indian chief to the original owner of
this house before it was finished,
and were built into the wall, where
they have taken good care of the
hats of various illustrious guests as
well as those of all the generations
who have called this old house home..
Those Indians up there in the stair-
way," turning to the broad, low
.stairs, " were doubtless painted there
to commemorate the friendly inter-
course which existed between the
savages and this far-away ancestor."

" I don't really like tho.se Indians,
Alfred, they look altogether too life-
hke to be plea.sant," I said, as we
eyed their full-length portraiture,
each with tomahawk in hand and
a crown of eagle's feathers on his
head.

" I know just how you feel about
them, Polly," he replied, " for those
old fellows were the terror of my
tender years. They were a whole-
Siviif check upon my unruly spirits,
no doubt, but a check, just the

POLLY TUCKER.

257

same. I well remember one boyish
escapade for which I paid dearly in
my dreams the night following. A
company of ' us boj-s ' were collected
in our .stable, trying to think up
something in the way of excitement,
when one graceless young.ster sug-
gested starting an empty hogshead
from the top of the hill just be-
yond, towards a queer .sort of table
near the foot of the hill, where a
certain peppery-tempered old man
.sold oysters. No .sooner said than
done,- and we had the satisfaction,
such as it was, of hearing the cra.sh
of the hogshead and the expletives
of the angr>^old vender as the oysters
flew about in all directions. I liap-
peiied to stroll down that way about
that time and helped him abuse his
unknown assailants and pick up his
stock in trade. I then gave him
some coppers which, for a wonder, I
found in my pockets, and went off to
join my fellow-conspirators ; but I
think we all felt rather small in spite
of the laugh we had had at the old
man's expense. That night I re-
peated the whole thing in my dreams,
with the addition of being scalped by
those two Indians, who jumped upon
me as I passed them on my way up
stairs.

' ' The impression was so vivid and
the pain .so real that I woke ; and
even then I was afraid to put my
hand to my head for fear of touching
the raw flesh. It was months before
I forgot that sensation, and big boy
though I was, I woixld clip along at
a lively pace on my way to bed, until
I had put a safe distance between my
head and those murderous toma-
hawks."

"Served you right, too, young-
man," said Major Sherbune, as he

joined us from the library, where he
had overheard our conversation.
" Why, Mi.ss Polly, Madam S. and I
could ne\-er have managed to
get that boy up to the degree of
respectability that he has arrived
at, moderate as it is," with a glance
of mock severit}' at Alfred, "if we
not had those Indians with their
tomahawks to back us up."

"They have been u.seful. then, if
they are not pretty," I replied, laugh-

ing.

"Why, Major S. ! " exclaimed
Madam Sherburne, coming down
stairs in season to hear the la.st re-
mark, "I am afraid you will give
Polly a wholly wrong impression of
Alfred. I assure you, my dear,"
addressing me, " he was a ver^' good
boy, upon the whole, — a little mis-
chievous at times, but he did very
well usually."

" That's right, that's right. Madam
S., speak a good word for ///;;/, by all
means ; he needs some one to open
people's eyes to his virtues ; they are
not pronounced enough, even now,
for ordinary minds to discover with-
out 3'our help," said the Major.

"Perhaps, Miss Polly," he added,
turning to me, "he was a good boy
as boys go, but good as he was, the
care of this model youth has done for
me just what he dreamed those
chaps," nodding tow^ards the Indians,
"did for him. You can .see for
yourself," and he lowered his head
and di.splayed his bald, shining
crown .

" I didn't do it all," retorted "the
model youth," "you know Aunt can
be severe upon occasion." We were
all laughing at the absurdity of this
charge and Madam S.'s indignant
disclaimer, when Peter announced

258

POLLY TUCKER.

dinner and we at once proceeded to
the dining-room.

"Well, Miss Polly," inquired
Major Sherburne, "what is the pros-
pect for a husking at the Tucker
farm this fall? Strange that I have
to invite myself ever}' year, don't
you think it is ? "

"Why Major Sherburne! you
know you are welcome to come any
time, and if you were not invited
until you suggested it last year, it
was only because Father didn't think
}'ou would enjoy our simple country-
frolics," I replied.

"Oh, yes I do," he declared. "I
like them just as well as he does ;
but I must confess that I felt a little
bit slighted when you let me come
off home without giving me one
dance. Perhaps 3'ou think I can't
dance ; but I can — and good, strong
dancing it is, too," and he looked as
if he would like to begin then and
there.

"That was too bad of me, and if
you will come again I'll dance with
3'ou as often as you like," I prom-
ised.

By this time Peter had disappeared
and we had the dining-room to our-
selves.

"The Major's dancing is a good
deal like Peter's rhyming," said
Madam Sherburne. "Did 3-ou ever
hear of that. Miss Polly? "

"I believe not," I replied.

"Well," said she, "Peter wanted
some favor and was told in joke that
he couldn't have the article desired

unless he made a rhyme. Now you
know what a solemn old fellow Peter
is, and can readil}- understand what
a ridiculous thing it was to ask of
him, but Peter was rather flattered to
think he was considered capable of
doing any such work. But he found
the task harder than Jie thought it
was going to be, and Went about the
house muttering ' cat, rat ; dog, hog ; '
and never getting any further. He
had no intention of giving up the re-
ward without a desperate effort to
secure it, so in his strait, he applied
to a friend for help. ' That is easy
enough,' he was told. 'Peter Hor-
ner, Threw his hat in the chimney-
corner.' Of course Peter was de-
lighted and hurried home and told
his master that his 'pome' was ready.
"Very well, let's hear it,' said his
master. With the full sense of the
importance of the occasion, Peter
drew himself up to his full height,
and with an air of dignified triumph
announced, ' Peter Horner, T'rew
his hat in de — in di^ fireplace.'' He
got his longed-for finery, his master
had a hearty laugh, and Peter's
' pome ' has been a proverb in the
family ever since. Both Peter and
the Major mean well and try "hard,
and as each is quite satisfied with the
result of his efforts, I don't know
why we should complain."
"I suppose you mean, of course,
unless Miss Polly has to dance with
Uncle. To my mind she would have
a perfect right to complain in that
case," interposed Alfred.

\_To be co>iiin7ieii.\

THE SPRING.
By L. Arolyn Caverly.

Fair as the iewel on a hand we love

Comes up the radiant spring,
With sounds as if all happy things that move

Were only carolling.

Far, faint and far, elusive as a dream,

Half bliss, half vague alloy,
Sweet wood notes melt, with echoes that beseem

The beck's quick sobs of joy.

And ev'ry blos'my branch against the blue,

Each bud the warm winds kiss.
Constrains the heart to own, with prescience new,

A subtle bond of bliss.

lyife thrills anew within the meadow clod.

And quickened grasses press,
Out from the mold dread winter overtrod.

Into spring's blessedness.

And ev'ry bush, erst winter-worn and mean,

Along the common ways,
Lifts its meek head, engarlanded with green,

Wov'n on dull, doubtful days.

And ev'ry heart doth melt with sweetest grief.

Remembering its fears ;
And all the earth is happy past belief,

E'en to the verge of tears.

Conducted by Fred Cowing, State Superintendent of Pidilic Instruction.

HELPING A TEACHER.

By Superintetident J. M. Greenwood.

The following letters from a principal
to a young teacher are suggestive and
Ihelpful :

My Dear Miss: I have tried faith-
fully for two years to lead you to see
the necessity of neat, accurate, definite
work of requiring your pupils to do ex-
actly what you ask them to do.

You do not consider these things nec-
essary; you are not in sympathy with
the spirit that dominates the highest
standard of work in our schools; you
fail to realize that regard to detail, and
firm, quiet discipline are indispensable
in cultivating attention and in develop-
ing thought.

You are ambitious and want to do
good work, yet you will not see that
close, sympathetic training is necessary.

To neglect the little things of life is
to neglect all of life; for our lives are
made up of little things. Great events
seldom, if ever, enter.

What you need is to plan your work
more definitely; to study the art of
questioning; to believe in accuracy and
discipline.

This criticism is made in the kind-

liest spirit. I trust you will accept it
in a like spirit, and believe me truly
your friend and helper.

Sincerely yours,

My Dear Miss: I wish you would
ask yourself the following questions
each evening this week. •

At the close of the week, please let
me know what you have gained by so
doing.

1. Have I required my pupils to do
what I have asked them to do?

2. Have they stood still and erect
while Yeciting?

3. Have I required accurate state-
ments from them ?

4. Have they been diligent during
study periods? If not, why?

5. Has the written work of the day
been neat and legible?

6. At nine o'clock in the morning,
was the day's work definitely planned?

7. Did I really teach and clinch some-
thing new during each recitation?

8. Have I tried to talk above a noise ?

9. Have I followed my programme?

Sincerely yours,

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

261

My Dear Miss: In your general i. To ask for your immediate removal,

management, you fail to realize that sin- 2. To try to lead you to see existing

cerity should be the basic principle. I conditions in their true light, and help

say this in all kindness and as your friend, you to bury the past in a future devoted

I tried to believe that your first inac- to the highest ideals of a true teacher,

curate reports were not intentional; but I have decided upon the latter course,
as I saw the same inaccuracy repeated Now, my dear Miss, let me say to

day after day, I felt that I must speak you that there is not anything in life

to you. After this, to use }our own which can meet with real success un-

language, I hoped you would "profit by less it rests upon the rock of sincerity,

yesterday's lesson." But the same in- Other structures may stand for a while,

accurate reports continued. Those three but they soon become top-heavy and fall,
children that you sent back to their Look at this matter carefully and in

seats kn'cw they were tardy. What was the light of judgment, and though the

the influence? lesson is a hard one, one that will hurt

You manifest the spirit you have and that deeply, yet feel and know that

shown in regard to this matter at other you can gain from it strength that will

points. Unless it is checked, it will ruin change the whole current of your life,
your work as a teacher, and take out of I trust you will accept this criti-

your life that quiet, restful peace which cism in the spirit in which it is given,

is the foundation of all true happiness. and feel that you will ever find in me a

After carefully considering the matter, real friend and helper.
I can see but one of two courses to pursue : Sincerely yours.

Note. — The Kansas City, Mo., school report for iS93-'96, J. M. Greenwood, supeiintendent, contains much
material helpful to teacher-;, particularly in the lines of language and primary numbers. — Eu.

r"3ii";'r"";."""""1
i : ,,y//M I

JOSEPH 15. SMART.

Joseph B. Smart, one of the oldest, mo.st prominent, and best known Odd Fel-
lows in New Hampshire, died in Concord. Marcli 16. He was born at Richmond,
Canada, April 13, i8io,*but spent most of his life in this state. He was a mason
and builder by trade and was identified with the construction of some of the most
important business blocks in Concord.

SAMUEL C. CLARK.

Samuel C. Clark, the third oldest member of the Belknap county bar, died at
Lakeport March 18. He was born at Gilford January 9, 1832, and was admitted
to the bar in 1854. From 1857 to 1874 he was clerk of the supreme court for

262 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

Belknap county. In 1867 and 1878 he was a member of the house of representa-
tives ; in 1870 and 1872 he was assistant clerk of that body and in 1873 and 1875
its clerk. He also held many local positions of trust and responsibility.

. GEORGE A. BLANCHARD.

George A. Blanchard, for many years a famous manufacturer of churns, was
born in Concord October 8, 1824, and died in Boston March 13. Early in life he
was with the Abbot-Downing company, later went West and engaged in steam-
boating on the Mississippi, spent a year in Paris, and then came to Concord and
engaged in manufacturing until his business was ruined by a disastrous fire. He
was the third member to die of the famed Mystic Five.

NELSON CROSS.

Judge Nelson Cross died in Dorchester, Mass., March 13, at the age of 77
years. He was born in Lancaster and practised law in Cincinnati until in 1852
he was appointed judge in New York. He served with distinction in the Civil
War as colonel of a New York regiment and at its close was brevetted major-
general for gallant and meritorious conduct.

CAPT. G. H. HUBBARD.

Capt. G. H. Hubbard, a cigar manufacturer at Manchester for many years, died
there March 9. He was born in Wilton October 5, 1830, was educated in New
Ipswich, and resided in Boston and Springfield before the war. He recruited 100
men and was captain in the Tenth New Hampshire regiment. He served gal-
lantly at Fredericksburg. He was city councilman in 1867, alderman in 186&
and 1869, and representative in the legislature in 1891. He was a charter mem-
ber of Louis Bell Post, G. A. R. .

GEORGE W. DAVIS.

G. W. Davis, senior member of the firm of G. W. Davis &; Company, machinists,,
died at Nashua March 11. He had been a prominent resident for forty years^
and was known all over New England. He was born in Washington, October 2,
1828. He had held many important public ofiices in the city, and was a member
of the legislature in 1867 and 1868. He was a successful business man and one
of the inventors of the Davis-Rollins engine.

REV. LUTHER FARNHAM.

Rev. Luther Farnham, librarian of the General Theological lil^rary at Boston,,
died March 15, aged 81 years, i month. He was born in Concord February 5,.
1816. He was educated in the schools of Concord and the Kimball Union
academy, Meriden. He entered Dartmouth in 1833, graduating in 1837.

REV. J. B. HOLMAN.

Rev. J. B. Holmaii,a well-known retired clergyman of the Methodist denomina-
tion, died in Concord March i i, at an advanced age. Rev. Mr. Holman was for
many years a clergyman in the New Hampshire conference. He was then trans-
ferred to the Kansas conference, where he spent several years. He returned to
Concord about ten years ago. He was a prominent Odd Fellow, and was an in-
mate of the Odd Fellows' home a considerable time.

->■.•.

lif^ .

«.

'-^

^ •'* *

> It

-i

'7}

Av<

I •

.1/

'vi'

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXn.

MAY, iSgy.

No.

A NAVAI. OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.'

By. Ensign Lloyd H. Chandler, U. S. A'.

PART II.

EING a semi-barbarous
nation, the Turks are
not allowed hy the pow-
ers to arrest foreigners
except for the imme-
diate purpose of preserving the pub-
lic peace, and even then they must
deliver anj^ one so arrested to his
consul immediately.

Turkish prisons are exceedingly
filthy, and no food is furnished, the
prisoners being dependent upon their
friends. The result of this is, that
the consul is responsible for the be-
havior of his countrymen within his
territory, and so he has to keep up a
sort of police department of his own,
formed b}^ his dragomen and kawasses.
A foreigner is not tried by Turkish
courts for offenses 'he may commit,
but by one composed, of the various
foreign consuls in the vicinity. For
this reason the Moslems compel the
attendance of a kawasse upon every
party of foreigners visiting the harem.
Entering the enclosure b}- the gate
in the middle of the north wall, we
first turned to the left and looking

out and down to the base of the east-
ern part of this wall, we saw " Birket
Israel," a large cistern recognized as
the pool of Bethesda of the Bible.
The Turk is now busily employed in
filling this up. We then passed along
the eastern wall, which is here a part
of the cit}" wall also, and looked
across the valley of Jehosaphat to the
Mount of Olives, Gethsemane and
the tombs of Absalom, Jehosaphat,
and St. James. Both sides of the
valley here are covered with graves,
those on the ea.stern side Jewish, and
those beneath the city, Moslem.

Following along the eastern wall to
the southward we passed near its
middle point the golden gate, which
is now walled up. The Moslem tra-
dition is, that when the Christians
retake Jerusalem they will enter by
this gate, so the}' have taken precau-
tions accordingly. Just outside this
gate is a stone post called Moham-
med's pillar and a stone called Moham-
med's seat. Upon the latter the
prophet is to sit on judgment day,
watching mankind \xy to walk across

264

A NAVAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO [ERUSALEM.

Mosque El-Aksa.

a wire stretched from the pillar to the
Mount of Olives beyond. The good
will succeed and be saved, but the
wicked will fall off into Gehenna
below. Near the southeast angle of
the enclosure, we descended some
steps and came out under the immense
arches supporting the plateau above.
These chambers are called Solomon's
stables, and were undoubtedly used
as storehouses of the temple. They
have also been used as stables, prob-
ably by the Knights Templar, for
there are holes in each pillar which
can only have been used in fastening
horses. These vaults have been ex-
cavated within a comparatively few
years. In all these excavations much
of interest has been discovered, and
all the buildings within the harem,
including the two Mosques, have been
built from remnants of the old tem-
ples thus obtained.

Ascending again from the stables,
we had our feet tied up in bags before
entering the mosque El-Aksa. The

Moslem keeps his head covered in
church, in fact he never uncovers
anywhere, not even at meals. I
don't know whether he takes off his
fez at night, even, or not, but he
does take off his shoes, and formerly
Christians were compelled to do the
same. Now, however, the power of
' ' bakshish " is so great that a com-
promise is effected by means of a lit-
tle jute bagging, some big sandals,
or even some old played-out rubber
overshoes. There is a demand in
Jerusalem for these last as being more
convenient. Apropos of this subject,
it is interesting to see a Turkish offi-
cer come aboard ship with some mes-
sage for the admiral or captain. If
of inferior rank, he will invariably
shuffle out of his shoes before enter-
ing the cabin.

Kl-Aksa, " the Distant," so called
because of his position with respect
to Mecca, and next to the Kaaba at
that place the most sacred of Moslem
shrines, was originally the Christian

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

265

basilica of Santa Maria, erected by
the Emperor Justinian in the sixth
century. It was not destroyed when
the Persians occupied the city, and
in 636, when the CaHf Omar recap-
tured the place it was in good condi-
tion. Omar here prayed that the
true site of the temple might be
revealed to him, and now they show
the Calif's study and " Pulpit of
Omar" in consequence. This last is
covered with cedar from Lebanon,
beautifully carved, among the deco-
rations, of which is the six pointed
star in a central and prominent posi-
tion on each side. When the Crusad-
ers captured the city it was made a
Christian church again under the
name of the " Temple (or sometimes
porch or palace) of Solomon." Bald-
win assigned a portion of it to a new
military order which took therefrom
the name of " Knights Templar."

Within El-Aksa are shown within
the tomb of Aaron's sons, a footprint
in stone said to have been made by
the child Jesus, and all along the
walls mosaics of the names of the
holy men who fell in repelling the
invading Christians during the Cru-
sades. With our Christian ideas this
last brings us to a sudden realization
of the fact that there are always two
sides to every question, and here is
one side of which we very rarely
think. Here, also, are two pillars
very close together, between which
every one must pass, the dervishes
say, to reach the kingdom of Heaven.
The good will pass safely, but the
stones will come together and crush
the wicked. Irreverant visitors have
tried the passage, until now there is
an iron framework, surrounded by
the star and crescent, to prevent.
There is also a cistern of stone in the

corner called the " Well of the Leaf,"
which is said to contain a gate di-
rectly to Paradise. Some celebrated
Moslem of the past once fell into this
when it was full of water and was in
danger of drowning, as the sides were
steep and there was no one within
call. By a miracle the well dried up
until help came, but as soon as he
was hauled out it filled up again.
While waiting, he found a door in
the side, and passed through into the
gardens of Paradise, bringing with
him upon his return a small branch
of a tree, to prove the truth of his
story. The well is now dry for all
time, but the door has not j-et been
discovered.

Passing out of the north door of
El-Aksa, we made our waj^ up a short
flight of steps to the centre of the
harem and entered the mosque of
Omar. This is one of the most
beautiful buildings in the world and
stands in a detached position in the
centre of this great plain with noth-
ing near it to hide or dwarf its beau-
ties. It is octagonal in shape, with a
flat roof, the walls being covered with
a mosaic of blue stone, some of which
are verses from the Koran. It is
surmounted b}- a splendid dome of a
dull bronze color, with beautiful win-
dows of stained glass around the base.
Entering this Moslem temple and
passing over the magnificent rugs
presented by the Sultan, we saw be-
fore us the summit of Mt. Moriah.
The dome of the rock, the threshing
floor of Oman, the Jebusite, the spot
where Abraham was about to sacri-
fice Isaac, the Holy of Holies of the
Moslems, upon which it is a sacrilege
for a Jew to look. This summit has
been leveled off, and three rough steps
cut in the west side to serve as an

266

A NAVAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

approach to the altar. This work is
very crude, for the use of iron tools
therein was forbidden. In the centre
is a hole with a cave beneath, through
which the blood of the offerings
flowed awa5\ The stone is much
scarred and shattered in spots, the
supposed cause being the vandalism
of pilgrims who came before the
Mosque protected it. In the south-
west corner of the rock is a footprint
made bj^ Mohammed when he ascend-
ed from this point into Heaven. It
is related that the rock itself attempt-
ed to follow the prophet, rising some
distance into the air, thus forming a
cave underneath, but that the angel
Gabriel then stopped it by placing
his hand upon it. His finger-marks
are shown near the footprint, and
judging therefrom he must have had
many more fingers than are given the
ordinar}' mortal. In spite of the
very visible supporting walls below,
the Moslems still believe that the
rock is suspended in mid- air, the only

excepted support being a small pillar
set almost horizontally across the
entrance down into the cave below.

Descending into this cave, we see
altars dedicated to Solomon, David,
Abraham, and Elias. The Moslems
say that Abraham, David, Solomon,
and Jesus used to pray here, and they
call it "the noble cave." It is sup-
posed that Oman and his four sons
hid themselves here from the destroy-
ing angel. In the centre of the pav-
ing of the cave is a flagstone beneath
which may be heard a roaring, rush-
ing sound, believed by the Moslems to
be the unrest of the evil spirits of the
world. Many believe that the Ark of
the Covenant was hidden here before
the fall of Jerusalem, and consent to
excavate there has often been sought,
but unsuccessfully, for the Turk fears
the release of the evil spirits. In the
rock above, near the side of the cave,
there is- a big dent in the roof, said to
have been caused by the prophet's
head. He was standing there ex-

^^^=^^^-^. .i

Mosque of Omar.

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

267

horting those same spirits and incau-
tiously straightened himself up, with
disastrous results to the rock above.
In the floor of the mosque is a slab of
jasper with some very peculiar holes
in it, looking as if nails had been
driven into it from above and then
pulled through from below, the stone
closing in to fill the hole, but leaving
the indentation. In three of these
holes may be seen what appear to be
heads of copper nails, while in the
fourth the nail has about sunk from
sight. The story is, that there were
originally twelve of these, and that
mankind was to be delivered over to
Satan as soon as they were all pulled
through, so the fiend is ahva3^s busi-
ly at work, and the only way in
which he can be retarded is by
placing a piece of money upon the
stone, and the person dcing this is
secure of the short road to Paradise.
Some of our part}' contributed, but
one man was surprised to find that
his offering was returned as counter-
feit. The holy men who care for the
mosque, lineal descendants of the
prophet, are quite as eager for bak-
shish as their less aristocratic neigh-
bors, the beggars without.

Outside the mosque on the eastern
side is a dome on an octagonal base,
supported by pillars, and entirely
open beneath, and within is a tessel-
lated pavement with the six-pointed
star in mosaic in the centre. This
marks the site of t^e judgment seat
of Solomon, and is called the dome
of the chain. The Moslem story is,
that in the old daj'S a golden chain
here hung down from Heaven with-
out visible means of support, and
that when a witness testified before
Solomon he was obliged to hold the
end of the chain in his hands while he

talked. If the truth was told the
chain remained quiet, but if the wit-
ness perjured himself it was at once
violently agitated. A case once came
up for judgment, an action brought
by a Moslem against a Jew who had
failed to repay borrowed money.
The two came before Solomon, the
Jew carrying a large staff, in the
handle of which he had concealed
the money which he really owed the
Moslem. When called upon to tes-
tify, he gave the staff to his creditor
to hold, and then swore truly that he
had given back the money. The
Moslem then returned the staff, and
in return swore that he had never
receiv^ed it. The chain was at once
caught up to Heaven, and has never
since been seen, having failed in its
purpose.

The moral taught from this tale is,
that when a Heaven-sent test of truth
is thus rendered valueless, it is use-
less for man to tr}- to discriminate
between the true and the false. Be-
fore leaving the harem, I think that
the following description of the an-
cient temple as it must have appeared,
will be of interest to others, as it
was to me, and so I venture to copy
again :

"Around the enclosure on every
side ran a double colonnade of white
marble pillars, each a monolith
thirty- three feet high. The ceilings
were of paneled cedar and the colon-
nades or cloisters were iorty feet
wide. The open court was covered
with tessellated pavements. Between
the outer and inner courts was a
stone balustrade four feet high, of
exquisite workmanship. No Gentile
was allowed to pass beyond this bal-
ustrade, and at fixed intervals along
it were erected tablets, some in Greek,

26S

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

others in Latin, giving notice of this
prohibition. One of these tablets
was discovered by M. Clermont-Gan-
nean in 1871 which illustrates strik-
ingly the narratives in Acts xxi :
26-30. The translation is as follows :
' No stranger is to enter within the
balustrade around the temple and
enclosure. Whoever is caught will
have himself to thank (or will be
responsible to himself) for his death,
which will ensue.'

' ' This inscription is in very large
characters, just as one would expect
in a placard of this nature, and it is
probably the most ancient and inter-
esting of any that has hitherto been
discovered in Jerusalem. Within the
balustrade was an ascent by fourteen
steps to a terrace thirteen feet wide
which encircled the wall of the inner
court, the latter being approached
by five more steps. The walls sur-
rounding the inner court were fifty-
three feet on the outside and thirty-
three within. The principal entrance
to this inner court was on the east
side, but there were in addition three
gates on the north and three on the
south, to which were added later three
for the women."

Within the inner court was a
third enclosure, called the court of
the priests, which none but the priests
might enter, and here was situated
the Temple itself with a small area
in front where the altar of " burnt
offering" stood. To this enclosure
there was an ascent from the Inner
Court of twelve steps through a
richly-decorated corridor. Beyond
this again to the west was the " cur-
tain " or " veil of the temple ' '
within which stood the altar of in-
cense, the shewbread table, and the
golden candlestick. vStill further to

the west was the inner sanctuary, or
"Holy of Holies." The above de-
scription applies to Herod's Temple,
but with the exception of the grand
colonnade around the outer court,
or "Court of the Gentiles," the
ground plan of Solomon's temple was
virtually the same. The exact posi-
tion of Solomon's porch (St. John x :
23; Acts v:i2) in this colonnade,
and of the ' ' Beautiful gate ' ' of the
temple (Acts iv: 2) cannot at present
be determined. The outer court, or
low level platform surrounding the
inner court on every side, is that from
which Christ drove the merchants
and money changers. Into it opened
four gates on the west from the city
and two on the south from Ophel.

"The south side of the colonnade
was distinguished from the rest in
that it had four rows of columns in-
stead.of two, and was of far more strik-
ing grandeur than the other sides. It
was known as ' Herod's Cloister.'
Each of the outer and inner side
aisles was 30 feet wide and 50 feet
high ; whilst the centre aisle was 45
feet wide and 100 feet high, thus
towering majestically above the rest.
The columns were monoliths of
white marble surmounted by Corin-
thian capitals and the cedar roofs
were elaborately carv^ed. The centre
line was in an exact line with the old
bridge across the Tyropean valley to
Mount Zion, the remains of which
can still be seen at the spot repre-
sented by the ruined arches discov-
ered by Robinson, and of the same
breadth. The one thus formed a con-
tinuation of the other.

"Such was the position of the
Temple and its courts, so far as we
can apprehend them from the descrip-
tions of Josephus and of the Talmud.

A NAVAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

269

The appearance of the whole must
have been wonderfully grand."

So much of the wonderful buildings
in which we are all interested.
. Passing from the harem hy the
Moors or Dung Gate, in the southern
part of the western wall, and descend-
ing to the right, we come to that
part of the foundation wall where
the Jews are permitted to come to
lament the passing of the temple site
into infidel hands.

This is the famous wailing place of
the Jews, and there thej^ stand in
rows, kissing the stones and chanting
in Hebrew the words of the seventy-
ninth Psalm : "O God, the heathen
are come into thy inheritance ; th}^
holj^ temple have they defiled ; they
have layed Jerusalem on heaps."
As thej^ chant they rock their bodies
to and fro from one foot to the other,
ser\'ing thus with body as well as
with heart and soul and mind.

The Jews of. Jerusalem and the
surrounding country all wear one
long curl falling dowai in front of
each ear, showing the fulfilment of
the old prophecy as to their being a
separate people different from all
others, and the sight of men, women,
and children, all rocking to and fro
in front of the bare wall of rock, their
curls waving from side to side, chant-
ing the words of the Psalm without
regard to one another, and stooping
to kiss the rock at the end of each
verse, would be very touching did
not so many of them cease their
lamentations to demand bakshish.

Leaving this place, we walked
through the bazaar the length of
David street to the hotel, where we
took carriages and drove out the
Jaffa gate on our way to Bethlehem.
Driving down the lower valley of

Gihon and passing near the railroad
station, we saw the lower pool of
Gihon where Solomon was anointed
king, and also the "hill of evil
counsel" where "they took coun-
sel together how they might slay
him."

On the slope of this hill is the
original potter's field, bought with
Judas's thirty pieces of silver.

Not far from Jerusalem is shown
the well of the magi, within which
the wise men first saw the reflection
of the star of Bethlehem. Driving
out to the southward, we see the
valley where the " shepherds watched
their flocks by night," a bit of the
Jordan and Dead sea through a
break in the hills, Rachel's tomb
with a Jewish chapel within, the vil-
lage where Saul w^as anointed king,
and finall3^ on the hill before us, the
town of the nativity. In the dis-
tance we see to the eastward Nebo
and the mountains of Moab, and to
the south Frank mountain, a favorite
camp of the Crusaders, on the south-
ern slope of which is that cave of
Adullam where David took refuge.
In view, at the foot of this mountain,
is a fertile plain whereon lay the
fields of Boaz, where Ruth gleaned
both grain and master.

Driving rapidly down the narrow,
dirty streets of Bethlehem, to the
imminent danger of the crowds of
foot passengers, we at last drew up in
the large square, before the Church of
the Nativity. There is no doubt
that this church stands upon the site
of the ancient khan or inn where
Joseph and Mary stopped, and also
that the caves now shown beneath
were the stables of the place.

It seems reasonably certain and is
generally accepted that the one

270

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

now pointed out as the birthplace
of Christ is correct. Entering the
church, we are first shown one of a
row of stone columns supporting the
roof, which has five dents in it, ar-
ranged in the form of a cross. This
heavy mass of stone was once over-
thrown by an earthquake, and we
are told that Helena, the " inventor "
of the cross, replaced it with one
hand, the tips of her fingers forming
the dents in question. Passing down
into the cave, now called the Chapel
of the Nativity, we were shown three

dren were thrown after their massa-
cre by Herod's order.

I must venture upon one more quo-
tation : ' ' These various grottoes are
minutely measured off and distrib-
uted among the rival sects. Many
a bitter contest has there been for a
few inches of a wall or the fraction of
an altar ; and more than once the
question of the opening and shutting
of one of the doors has well-nigh in-
volved Europe in war.

"A Turkish soldier always keeps
guard in the Grotto of the Nativity to

River Jordan.

altars marking the spot where Christ
was born, where the manger cradle
stood, and where the three wise men
stood when they worshiped. The
cradle itself is in the church of Santa
Maria Maggiore, in Rome. Near-by,
and entered by a narrow cutting, is
a small cave to which it is said
Joseph retired at the moment of the
nativity. In the other caves we see
the study and tomb of St. Jerome
(vouched for as correct), the tombs
of St. Eusebias, Sta. Paula, and St.
Eustachia, and the altar of the inno-
cents near the mouth of the cavern,
into which the bodies of 20,000 chil-

keep the Christian priests of various
sects from flying at each other's
throats ; and from time to time dread-
ful outbreaks do occur, even in this
most sacred shrine. Only in this
very year (i8gi) one such has oc-
curred, resulting in much bloodshed
and loss of life."

This condition of affairs is certainly
a sad commentary and inexcusable
blot upon our practical Christianity.
Returning to the hotel in time for
luncheon at 1 2 : 30, we again started
out at 2 o'clock, this time on donkey
back, and passed out by the new
gate, in the northwestern corner of

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

2-1

the city. Passing along outside the
north wall to the eastward, we saw
the Damascus gate to the right and
the Hill of the Skull (of which I shall
speak again later) to the left. Then
turning the corner of the wall and
moving to the southward and east-
ward, we passed St. Stephen's gate
and descended into the Valley of
Jehosaphat. Just after crossing the
bridge over the then dry bed of the
brook Kedron, we stopped at a place
incorrectly known as the tomb of the
Virgin. Descending a long flight of

tunate for bakshish, more so even
than their healthier brethren, and
one has to be careful to avoid their
touch. They crowd around much
too closely for comfort, although they
will not absolutel}^ touch one, and
keep up their cries (in Hebrew or
Arabic, of course) of " Unclean, un-
clean," or " Leprous, leprous." One
is filled with sympathy for them,
which is largely turned into disgust,
however, when one learns that there
is a large free home and hospital for
them, of which most of them posi-

Tne Dead Sea.

steps into a large cave, we passed on
one side, on the way down, the tomb
of St. Anne, and on the other the
tomb of St'. Joseph. At the bottom,
in the body of this very remarkable
cavern, stands the stone sarcophagus
within which is the so-called tomb
of the Virgin. In realit}', no one
knows what this place is, but it is
one of the most curious sights near
Jerusalem. It is in this vicinity that
the lepers mostly congregate, and
a horrible sight they are, with limbs
and features dropping away, a veri-
table rotting of the flesh in life which
nothing can arrest. They are impor-

tively refuse to avail themselves.
The reason is, that when they enter
the sexes are separated, in order to
prevent the introduction into the
world of any more such infected be-
ings, and to this they infinitely prefer
begging and greater suffering. How-
ever, the doctors sa)^ that after the
disease is firmly established in the
system there is very little pain con-
nected with it, but its appearance is
so horrible that this is hard to be-
lieve.

Mounting our donkeys again, we
climbed the Mount of Olives, and en-
tered the large garden on top belong-

272

A NAVAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

ing to the Russians. There is a
church here, together with several
other buildings, and a high tower
which we climbed to the belfry. The
view from the top is superb ; to the
east is the Jordan and the Dead sea
with the mountains beyond ; to the
south Bethany, Bethlehem, and the
magnificent scenery seen in the morn-
ing on the way to the latter place ;
and on the west the city of Jerusalem
itself, El-Kudsesh-Sherif (the Holy,
the Noble) of the followers of the
prophet ; in the foreground the
Harem enclosure bordering on the
valley of Jehosaphat, with the grand
Mosque of Omar in the centre. From
here we also looked across to the hill
of evil counsel and saw the field of
blood, Aceldama, that burial ground
for outcasts and strangers first bought
with the price of the Saviour's be-
trayal.

Near the tower is a house built up
over the site of what must have been
an ancient palace, for there is still
shown there a very fine mosaic floor
which is thovight to have been that
of a dining hall, because of the de-
signs of game, fish, etc. The Greek
church is in the ascendancy in Jeru-
salem and whenever there is a divi-
sion they always come out ahead.
The reason for this seems to be that
Russia is the only nation that the
Turks seem to fear. The word of
the Czar is powerful throughout the
land, and when he wishes to buy a
piece of land it is generally found to
be in the market. Just outside the
Russian enclosure is a mosque called
the Mosque of the Ascension, whence
the Moslems say that Christ ascended
into heaven ; for they, too, believe in
Jesus, but only as a lesser saint. His
footprint, impressed upon the rock at

the moment of his rising, is still
shown. Leaving the summit, we de-
scended nearly to the bottom of the
hill, near the tomb of the Virgin, en-
tered the garden of Gethsemane.
The original garden was unquestion-
ably here, but the wall now encloses
but a small part of what must have
been its original area. Entering
through a low, narrow door, we found
ourselves in a narrow, gravel walk
between the high outer wall and the
closely wrought iron fence which pro-
tects the shrubbery within from the
vandalism of visitors. A priest will
gather for visitors a few flowers from
within the quadrangle, for a mod-
erate gratuity. Around the inside of
the outer wall is a series of cheap
Italian bas-reliefs in terra-cotta,
gaudily painted, showing the va-
rious stations at which Christ stopped
while bearing the cross. Retracing
our steps along the road by which we
came, we came again to the northern
side of the city, and climbed to the
top of a small hill just outside the
Damascus gate, the Hill of the Skull.
At this place and on Olivet, the
only two eminences overlooking the
city, the besieging army of Titus
encamped, and it was from this place
on the north that the city was finally
carried by assault, that being the
only direction from which the batter-
ing rams and other heavy engines of
war could approach. Under the
leadership of the explorer Gordon, a
large number of people have accepted
this hill as the " hill of the skull " of
St. John, as Calvary or Golgotha,
and it certainly much more nearly
fulfils the conditions than the site
within the Church of the Holy Sepul-
chre.

From its top and facing to the

A NA VAL OFFICER'S TRIP TO JERUSALEM.

south, as the cross must have done if
erected here, the view simply beg-
gars description, stretching away
over the city itself in the foreground
to the horizon beyond Bethany and
Bethlehem. One feels naturally
drawn to accept this site because of
its natural beauties, which cast such
an unfavorable light upon the artifi-
cial nature of the commonlj'-accepted
site.

Furthermore, there has been re-
cently excavated at the base of this
hill a rockhewn tomb in a cliff which
fills in every particular the descrip-
tions of the Bible, in which the other
tomb is so lamentably lacking. It
was undoubtedl}^ the tomb of a rich
Jew, and was being prepared for the
reception of a family, having places
in course of construction for one man,
one woman, and a child. The only
one of these that has ever been fin-
ished or used is that of the man.
The opening through which those
looked who came to search for Christ
is still there and gives directly upon
the one occupied tomb. Along the
face of the cliff just outside of the
tomb is a rut cut out in the rock,
along which a heavy circular stone
must have been rolled to cover all

the openings in the face of the tomb,
together with a cutting at one side
of the tomb against which this rock
fetched up when the entrance was
closed.

This ended our sightseeing, for our
time was limited to one day, which
was then nearing its close, so we re-
turned to the hotel to take the train
next morning for our return to Jaffa.

And here I must close my letter,
doubtless to your great relief, for on
looking it over I am struck by two
things : first, by its length, which has
far overrun the limit which I had ex-
pected; second, by the fact that there
is nothing in it that you have not
doubtless already heard. My apol-
ogies for these failings must be that
in my comparative!}' limited knowl-
edge of Masonr}', as I have already
said, I have feared to omit points
that would be of interest to j'ou, and
also that I hope that things already
familiar may be made interesting by
the telling of a friend.

And so I will say farewell, hoping
that circumstances will soon arrange
themselves so that I may be able to
meet you all again.

Fraternally yours,
ly. H. Chandler.

OVER THE OCEAN AND [FAR AWAY.

By J. B. M. Wright.

Paintings wrought by the hands of masters ;
Statues fair, with a grace divine ;
Cots of the humble, toihng peasant,
Sheltered by growths of sighing pine ;
Fruits of many a luscious flavor ;
Rulers grand, in their pomp and sway ; —
These are the pictures life is showing,
Over the ocean and far aw^ay.

Wonderful reefs of coral islands,
Ej'ing fair on the waters blue,
Work of the countless tiny insects,
Busy ever their whole life through ;
Fairest sunsets the eye can cherish
Linger long with a golden ray ; —
These are the pictures life is~ showing.
Over the ocean and far aw^av.

Minsters mighty, with great bells tolling.
Rend the air with their merry chime ;
Organs' deep-toned music rolling ;
Torrents, dashing in force sublime ;
Sweet guitars, their soft notes playing.
Keeping time to the minstrel's lay ;—
These are the pictures life is showing.
Over the ocean and far awav.

PETER THE MARINER.'

By Mary If. Wheeler.

Ah, Peter, my ancestor, far in the past
Thy lot in a region of romance was cast ;
But, two centuries rising between thee and me,
Thou art lost in the race, like a wave in the sea.

Peter Garland, of luigland, mariner, born Ijctween tlic \-ears 1590 and 1600, father of Jolin. of Hampton,

N. II., born, 1621.

PETER THE .ILIRLYER. 275

We know not the place where they cradled thee warm,
Or if land or if ocean received thy dead form ;
And the count of thy years is forgotten to-day,
Like a cloud, or a breath that has floated away.

Oh, could you but give us a picture or two
Of the scenes which in youth were familiar to you !
Could you tell of your father, your mother, your wife,
Of the joys or the sorrows that varied your life !

Could we see but your bearing, your eyes, and your hair.

Or even the clothing that you used to wear !

Or if we might hear how your voice used to ring

When you spoke — when you laughed ! Did >ou whistle or sing ?

But, alas! for the camera's trick was unknown.

And the phonograph never had shadowed a tone,

In the days when 'mid icebergs and sharks and great whales,

You braved the broad ocean with wind-beaten sails.

Ah, Peter, at night, on the great, silent sea.
When the winds were at rest and the stars over thee.
As you thought of the little ones sleeping at home,
Had >-ou never a dream of descendants to come ?

And did shadowy forms in the foreground appear,
With traits like thine own, as they glided anear?
And clouds of 3-oung faces still seem to ascend
Away to the westward in ranks without end ?

Did you hear far-off accents in low, vibrant tone.
Inflections and voices that echoed thine own ?
And was it a pleasure in dreams to foresee
The race yet unborn that would centre in thee ?

Ah, Peter, my ancestor, years inten-ene :

What are years, — what is time, but a something unseen —

A chasm, a mountain, between thee and me,

On this rainbow-arched isle in eternity's sea,

Where 3'ou looking forward and I looking l:)ack
May signal a greeting across the dim track
Which was made by the record of our passing race
In this little circuit in infinite space.

Mam Street.

GILSUM.

ny Dr. I. A. Loveland.

N several particulars Gil-
sum is unique, not only
among the sister towns
of the state but of the
countr3\ There is but
one town or place by this name in
existence, and that is the gem of the
upper Ashuelot valley, in the county
of Cheshire and state of New Hamp-
shire .

The first grant of the territory cov-
ered by this town was in 1752, and
the name given was Boyle. With a
single exception, none of the grantees
ever settled' in town, and the charter
was declared forfeited.

In 1 763,. Governor Wentworth gave
a new grant. Among those interested
in this grant w^ere Samuel Gilbert
and Clement Sumner, each of whom
desired the towai to bear his name,
and each pressed his claims with a
great deal of warmth. Tradition has
it that the dispute had a romantic
ending. Sumner had a son, and
Gilbert a daughter, and while their
fathers were fighting over the name

of the new^ town they were pierced
by Cupid's darts, and were soon
united in marriage. This led to a
compromise, and the first syllable of
their respective names w^ere taken,
Gil-sioii — the name under which the
town was incorporated, and by which
it has ever since been known.

Originally, Gilsum embraced 25,340
acres of land and extended westward
as far as Westmoreland. In 1769, a
large tract was taken from the west-
ern part of Gilsum to form the town
of Surry ; and eighteen years later
Sullivan took the southeast corner.
Its present area is about 6,000 acres,
and in shape it resembles a carpen-
ter's square, the village, which com-
prises the larger part of its popula-
tion, being located at the inner angle
close to the Sullivan line.

The surface is very uneven. From
some points of view hill rises upon
hill, and a landscape t)f great beauty
is presented. On the western bound-
ary is Surry mountain with a height
of 1,650 feet above the level of the

278

GILSUM.

River View, with Polley Bridge.

sea, while the eastern end of the town
next to Stoddard attains an ahiiost
equal altitude. The northern bound-
ary is elevated, and also a part of the
southern. The village lies in a deep
basin, so completely is it surrounded
by hills. The Ashuelot river passes
through the town, and about a mile
from the village, near the stone
bridge, it dashes through a deep,
rocky gorge with nearly perpen-
dicular sides. In some places they
are overhanging, so that a stone
dropped from the top will strike the
water nearly 100 feet below. On the
north side of this wall is an inaccessi-
ble seat or notch called the "Devil's
chair."

When the water is low, one looks
upon a scene of beauty as he watches
the meandering river so far below
him, now meeting with some obstacle
and gently turning aside, now ex-
panding into a miniature bay with
its pebbly shore, and then again flow-
ing silently onward. But let this
same stream ho. seen when swollen
by the spring freshets, and all is
changed. It now dashes against the
huge boulders- in its bed, and is
thrown back by them, filling the air
with spray and covering itself with
foam. Again the waters rush for-

ward and perhaps strike against a
projecting point in the narrow chan-
nel, only to be deflected to the oppo-
site side. The whole scene is one of
sublimit}^ equal to that of many far-
famed resorts.

On the height of land between Gil-
sum village and Keene, near the
Sullivan line, is "Bearden." Here
acres of rocks are thrown together in
every conceivable form of confusion,
apparently by some internal force of
tremendous power ages ago. These
rocks are mostly irregular in shape.

* ■*!!

Old Meeting-riouse and Stone Bridge.

and under and among them are nu-
merous holes and dens, one of the
latter being some fifty feet in extent.
They formerly afforded shelter to
wolves and bears, but now the most
formidable animal met with is the
woodchuck, the fox, and the hedge-
hog. In some places the rocks are
wedged together very compactly, as
if by the hand of the mason. One
rock twenty feet long and three and
one half feet square and nearly as
regular as if made by a stone-cutter,
seems to have been caught while fall-
ing and one end made fast by over-
lapping rocks, while the other ex-
tends horizontally like a projecting
beam for more than half its whole
length. Other rocks are seen, weigh-
ing in some cases thousands of tons,

GILSUM.

279

with their shelving under sides hol-
lowed into numerous cavities, appar-
ently by the action of water. In one
place the rocks are thrown together
so as to quite closely resemble the
human face. There is the unmis-
takable forehead, the nose, mouth,
and chin, a calm, noble, yet .some-
what stern countenance in outline,
as he faces the setting sun.

Near " Bearden " on the south is
a small swamp which is the chief
source of Beaver brook. About an
eighth of a mile from its source this
brook forms a cascade somewhat
smaller than the well-known " Beaver
Falls" in Keene, five miles south on
the same stream, but it is really more
beautiful, the water falling over a
bed of green moss.

now measures 45 feet in length, 32
feet in width, and 25 feet in height.
It is referred to in many works on
geology and is visited by many.

Under the overhanging sides of
this rock Rev. W. E. Ren.shaw once
married a couple. Not finding him
at home, they started towards Keene
and met him near this rock. The
pastor, who was always equal to the
occasion, suggested this novel place
for the wedding ceremony, which
was promptly seconded by the happ}-
couple.

Gilsuni has a variety of minerals.
Granite is abundant. Crystals of
quartz and tourmaline are often met
with. Garnets of small size are
abundant. Mica abounds, and is
now extensively quarried by the
Davis Mica company just over the
line in Alstead. Surry mountain
contains lead, silver, and gold.
From time to time efforts have been
made to obtain them, but thus far
have not met with much success.
With modern machinery and im-
proved processes of mining, it is be-
lieved by some that the.se minerals
could be obtained in paying quan-
tities.

The fiora of the town is varied and
abundant. In the spring the trailing
arbutus, violet, adder's tongue.

Profile on Bearden Mountain.

\'essel rock is a geologic wonder.
During the drift period this enormous
boulder was stranded here. It is so
called from its resembTance to a ship
under full sail. Fragments from it
have fallen off, .so that the resem-
blance is not now very complete.
The falling off of a large piece from
the west side in 1817 was due to an
earthquake a short time before. It

x>' 'fr^ ^.

i'iP*Nj

i^Sism ^:!b

Entrance to Bearden.

2So

GILSUM.

Vessel Rock and School-House.

blood root, trilium, bell flower, spring
beauty, and other common spring
flowers are found, and later the fra-
grant azalea. One spot near the
river is covered with mountain laurel,
the only place for many miles where
it is found.

The chief business carried on in
town is agriculture and the manu-
facturing of woolen goods. The
town is noted for the quantity and
quality of maple sugar made here,
there being many orchards of i,ooo
trees and several containing nearly
2,000.

Many of the farmers are exten-
sively engaged in producing milk
and cream for distant markets. As
a class, the people are intelligent,
public-spirited, and enterprising, and
many of them are in good financial
circumstances.

The Ashuelot river in its course
through town has a fall of some three
hundred feet, with numerous excellent

water privileges. The first use of
these gifts of Nature that we know of
was in 1776, when Elisha Mack built
a sawmill and grist-mill near the
stone bridge. People came from far
and near, often bringing their grists
on hand sleds in wdnter, and upon
their backs when there was no snow.
This mill was in operation some
seventy-five years. It was once re-
built on an enlarged scale, and the
chair business added in 1845. Fire
destroyed the mill in 1869. The
privilege is the best in town, and is
now owned by John S. Collins, who

Stone Bridge from the South.

offers liberal inducements to the right
parties to occupy it. Another grist-
mill was put up in 1802 about half
a mile farther down the river, and
was run for thirty years by David
Fuller, vStephen White, Daniel Bev-
erstock, and Aaron Loveland.

In 1830, Orlando Mack built a saw-
mill up the river about a mile from
the village. It is now owned and
run by Quincy Nash.

In 1 87 1, a sawmill was erected
near the "Burnt House hill," which
is now owned and run by S. W. Dart.
It contains the only grist-mill in
town at present.

GILSUM.

281

For many years there was an ex-
tensive tanner}' in the village, with
George B. Rawson as resident mem-
ber of the firm and manager, but the
business of tanning having become
unprofitable in recent years, it has
been closed up and the buildings
sold to the Gilsum Woolen Manu-
facturing company.

Another extinct industrj^ is the
awl business. It was carried on for
twenty years by Luther Hemenway
and his sons in a shop near the resi-
dence of George W. Taylor, and also
by Solon W. Eaton in a shop near
the present site of Collins's factory.
Mr^ Hemenway was the inventor and
patentee of valuable improvements in
awl making.

Formerly the business of the black-
smith was much more extensive than
it is now, for it included the making
of edged tools, and the doing of a
large class of work that is now done
in foundries ; the same fact would
appl}^ to the wheelwright's business.
In both of these industries there were
several shops in which all branches
of the business were carried on by
skilled workmen. L. R. Guillow and
W. H. Bates are now our onl}^ black-
smiths.

Beaver Brook Fails.

Heading in South Tunnel — Davis Mica Co.

In 1820, a mill was moved from a
brook near by to a spot near the west
end of the present tannery building,
for the manufacture of cloth. Two
years later it was burned, but imme-
diatel}' rebuilt. In 1830, it was de-
stroyed b}^ fire, but the citizens
helped Deacon Aaron Brigham, who
now owned the property, to rebuild
on an enlarged scale. For a time
success attended the enterprise, but
at length the deacon was unable to
meet his bills. He induced twelve
men in town to lend him $500 apiece,
he agreeing to pay them the interest
yearly and $1,000 on the principal.
These men became widely known as
the "twelve apostles." The first year
Mr. Brigham kept his contract, the
second year he could not pay his in-
terest, and the third year he failed to
pay even his help, and the twelve
men were forced to take the factory
into their possession to .secure them-
selves. They run it about two years,

2S2

i.ILSUM.

Mill of Gilsum Woolen Mfg. Co.

when they closed up the business at
a loss of some $2,000 apiece.

In 1S52, Milton Silsby bought the
mill and carried on business till 1858,
when the mill was burned, and this
closed the textile industry on this
spot.

In 1.S27, Thomas T. Chapin built a
dam for a mill an eighth of a mile
]:»elow this place. He died before he
carried out his plans, and L,uther
Abbott bought the privilege and
erected a starch factory, which bus-
iness he carried on for about five
years. Jo.seph Upton and Harrison
G. Howe then hired the factory, and,
putting in machinery, began the
manufacture of colored flannels. The
woolen business was carried on here
by several parties, and at one time
the making of chairs by Hammond
and Loveland.

In 1865, Wright, Cornell 6c Lyman
l)uilt the present building, which,
however, has since been greatly en-
larged, and run the mill on flannels
for three months, and then failed up
and left town.

The firm of Culhbert, Gould .\:
Company bought it in 1.S66, and
started it up on tlannels the next
spring. In 1S72, John Gould left the
firm. l\xtensive repairs were made

and new and improved machiner}'
put in during the year 1878.

In iSSo, a corporation was formed
under the name of the Gilsum
Woolen Manufacturing compan3%
with a capital stock of $18,000, which
has since been increased to 825,000.
The plant has Ijeen enlarged, so
that it now contains twenty-six broad
looms, and other machinery in pro-
portion. The business of the cor-
poration has been very successful,
and for three years their factory was
run day and night. In 1891, the
tanner}' property was purchased
largel}^ with the view of controlling
the water privilege.

We have mentioned S. W. Eaton's
awl factory. This was afterwards
changed into a shingle-mill. In
1836, Thurston & Co. took the build-
ing for a flannel factory, and carried
on th.e business for two years, when
the}' were succeeded by Isaac Wallis
and Arnold B. Hutchinson. In 1840,
the property passed into the hands
of Faulkner tS: Colony, of Keene.
The late Charles S. Faulkner lived
here two years, and personally super-
intended the business.

In 1848, Gould & Wetherby com-
menced business here. They moved
the old mill acro.ss the road and con-
verted it into a boarding-house, and
built the present mill. In conse-

'The Wayside " — Residence of Hon. J. S. Collins.

GILSUM.

The Collins Mill.

quence of the failure of their com-
mission house, they were obHged to
close up their business, selling to
Ebenezer Jones in .1S49. He was
successful in his business, but sold in
1857 to Joshua and Thomas Ward.
The}' soon failed, and the propert}'
passed into the hands of Seth and
William Ward, who sold it after
three j'ears to Henshaw Ward, of
Boston. Army blankets were made
here during the war.

In 1867, the -property was sold to
vStephen Collins and his sons, Michael
and John S. The senior Collins was
a thorough manufacturer, and the
sons were made acquainted with
every detail of manufacturing. The
success that has attended the busi-
ness careers of the sons is due in no
small degree to the painstaking in-
struction 'of their father, and the

habits of industry which he incul-
cated.

Michael Collins sold his

the firm, and went to

\'t., remaining there

He then returned to

In 1872,
interest in
Springfield,
three vears.

town, and formed a copartnership
with liis brother John, the father
retiring from active business. After
a few j-ears Michael Collins went to
a suburb of Lowell, Mass., and built
a large mill, which he has enlarged
at different times, until it has l^ecome
the mo.st extensive mill property in
the state owned and run by a sin-
gle person. So vast is the business
that a corporation has been recently
formed to relieve Mr. Collins of some
of the care. A village has sprung
up about this mill, with a post-oflRce
called Collin.sville.

John S. Collins has owned and suc-
cessfull}' operated the mill here since
the retirement of his brother, with
the exception of about two years,
when George Levy was associated
with him. When the Collinses came
here there were onh' five looms in
the factor}'. Now there are twent}'-
eight broad looms of the most ap-
proved pattern, and a proportional
increase in all the other machinery
of the mill. The factor}' is equipped
with automatic fire extingui.shers.

John S Collins.

Stephen Collins.

Michael Collins.

<■ •'- ?^. ■.-•.i»ii -_-

John J. Isham.

Wilber Hamlin.

Rev. J.

S. Gove.

George H. McCoy.

Rev. W. E. Renshaw.

Alexander Cuthbert.

John

Bliss.

Lawrence A. Gravlin

H. E. Adams.

J. E. Isham.

William

L. Isham.

Gen. D. W. Bill.

A. D. Wright.

Prof. Myron W. Adams.

J. A.

Smith.

Henry H. Carter.

GILSUM.

2b =

and everything about it is in first-
class condition.

Entering the main street of the
village from the south, we first find
a two-story modern house, the resi-
dence of H. E. Adams. His busi-
ness interests are with the Gilsum
Woolen Mfg. Co. He is on the
board of education, is town treasurer,
and a member of the present legisla-
ture. Just east of his house is the
house owned and occupied for man}'
3'ears by his father, Rev. Ezra Adams,
and now the home of Dea. W. B.
Adams. He was graduated from
Amherst college in 1863, and for a
while was a professor in Wilberforce
university.

Passing up Main street, we come
to the residence and variety store of
E. W. F. Mark, who is town clerk,
and has been postmaster and a rep-
resentative. The next building north
is the Congregational church. Ashu-
elot street branches from Main street,
between the two latter buildings.
Here is located the tanner}^, the par-
sonage, and the neat cottage of F. A.
Howard. He has served as select-
man and representative, and has
done considerable business as a sur-
veyor.

Newman's block, just north of the
church, co'ntains a store, two tene-
ments, and a livery stable. The
store is kept by Wilber Hamlin,
who carries a general stock of mer-
chandise. The spacious residence
on the corner north of this block
is the home of the" retired tanner,
George B. Rawson. He has been
selectman and representative.

Passing by the Kingsbury place,
where Hon. George W. Hendee spent
three years of his boyhood, and the
Widow McCoy's house, we come to

the town hall. vSince the town bought
it of the Methodist church they have
enlarged it, made a gallery, put in
a stage with scener}', also a furnace,
and bought a piano. In the base-
ment is a secure lockup. Over the
main hall is a smaller hall, used by
four secret fraternities. Here is the
home of Ashuelot grange, with a
membership of 137 ; of Social Com-
mandery, U. O. G. C; of Columbia
Council, O. U. A. M.; and Angerona
Council, D. of E. When these orders
serve a banquet they generall}' make
use of both halls. In the rear is
another two-stor^- building owned by
the towm, and used for the .-fire de-
partment and for storing the hearse.

In that cosy cottage, with a prett}-
lawn sloping nearl}' down to the town
hall, resides John A. Smith, who has
served as selectman and representa-
tive. He has been a merchant here
about twenty years. North of him
resides G. H. McCoy, the genial
livery stable keeper ; and still farther
north is Jacob Nash, the plasterer
and brick mason.

Taking in the west side of Main
street, we first come to the little cot-
tage of Miss Frank Beckwith, and
next to the home of Robert Polzer,
a member of the Gilsum Woolen Mfg.
Co.

The twin sisters, Mrs. Dean and
Miss Hendee, own and occupy the
two-story dwelling north. The Ash-
uelot House comes next, owned b}'
Mrs. M. C. Sullivan, and run by
M. F. Buckminster.

Separated by a lawn from the hotel,
is the residence and office of Dr. I. A.
Eoveland. The public library, estab-
lished in 1893, and now numbering
1,102 volumes, is kept in his house.

The brick house is the residence of

286

GILSUM.

Congregational Cnurch.

Allen Hay ward, the carpenter, who
has served as selectman and repre-
sentative. The widow of the late
Col. Daniel Smith lives in the next
hou.se, and then we come to the store
of his son, J. A. Smith. Col. Smith
was a public-.spirited and widely re-
spected citizen, and was very fond of
a good horse. His .son, J. A., ma}^
be said to have inherited all these
traits.

That large and fine residence north
of the store is the home of F. C.
Minor, one of our ex-representatives,
his only .son, Elmer E., occupying
the upper part of the house. For
nearl}' thirt}' years he was actively
engaged in manufacturing here. Last
fall he sold out his stock in the Gil-
sum Woolen Mfg. Co., and retired
from this lousiness. His fast horses,
his real estate, and other interests
will prevent him from rusting out,
as he lays off the harness he has so
long worn .

The next, a modern two-story
house, is owned b}' Alexander
Cuthbert, a member of the Gilsum
Woolen Manufacturing company.
Then comes the home of Mrs. Marv

A. Hammond, widow of the late
Aaron I). Hammond. He was active
in the business and politics of the
town, kept store in the Newman
block quite a number of years, was a
selectman many 3-ears, representative
two years, and moderator more 3'ears
than an}' other person in town. Dr.
Webster lives in the next house, the
la.st on Main street.

On High street is the large and
thoroughly constructed residence of
vSamuel W. Dart, the sawmill owner,
and also that of Wilber Hamlin, the
merchant, and of Henry Bowbrick,
together with several tenement
houses. All these houses have been
recently erected.

Sullivan street is the old highway
to Sullivan, and upon it a goodly
number of houses have been built
during the past thirt}" years. . On a
plateau rising .some fifty feet above
the street level is the "Parade," so
called from the musters being held
there. The .school-house is on this
street. Near the Ashuelot river is
the elegant residence of John S. Col-
lins and the home of his mother and
sister. Miss Mary Collins, to whom
the writer is deeply indebted for val-
uable suggestions regarding the illus-
trations for this article. Mr. Collins
has served in both branches of the
legislature during his thirty years'

Rev. Samuel C. Lovelanrl.

Rev. David Kilburn.

GILSUM.

287

Dr. K. D. Webster.

Dr. I. A. Lovelatid.

residence in town, and is an hon-
ored citizen. The Ashuelot river is
spanned by a substantial iron bridge.

We now come to Collins's mill, and
the neat tenement houses for the em-
jiloj-es. Opposite the mill pond the
road divides. Taking the right-hand
one up the hill, we reach the resi-
dence and store of George H. Leach.
He is also extensiv^ely engaged in
teaming and lumbering.

This place is a part of the old
Loveland farm; the birthplace of
Samuel C. Loveland, in 17S7. The
' ' History of Gilsuni ' ' says ' ' he was
one of the most distinguished of the
natives of Gilsum." He was a self-
educated man. The higher schools
of learning he never entered as a stu-
dent, yet so great were his mental
powers and his perseverance that he
became a linguist of marked attain-
ments, a writer, and a preacher of
note in the Universalist church. He
could speak or write over a dozen
different languages, including the
Chaldee, Syriac, and Arabic. He
pu])lished a Greek and English lex-
icon, which was considered a remark-
able production in its day. The only
known copy of it in the state is in the
state library. Middlebury college
recognized its merits b}- giving its
author the degree of A. M. He died

at South Hartford, X. Y., in 1859.
His library of 3,000 volumes he gave
to Canton university.

Climbing the hills on a winding-
road, we come to the Hemenway
place. Luther Hemenway built here
in 1832. He was a mem1)er of the
Christian church here, and having a
natural gift for public .speaking, he
became a preacher. Meetings were
held in his hou.se and in school-
houses, and he baptized mau}^ con-
verts. He died at Springfield, \'t.,
at the age of ninet}' years. Edmund
Perley Hemenway, a grandson, was
])orn here. In 1870, he graduated
from the scientific department of
Dartmouth college. He was for sev-
eral years chief assistant engineer of
the Connecticut River \'alle3" rail-
road. He is now employed by a
large manufacturing establishment in
Brooklyn, X. Y., on scientific work.
The place is now owned b}' George
\V. Taylor, another grandson, and
is quite a noted summer resort. A
sheet of clear, sparkling water is in
front of the house, with shade-trees
and co.sy nooks in all directions. It
is a quiet, restful place, whose beau-

Town Hal

288

GILSUM.

Ashuelot House.

ties are duly appreciated b}^ a few
wealthy families from Boston and
New York that come here with each
recurring summer.

The left-hand road from ColHns's
mill leads to Marlow. It is the most
level road in town, and is of ten. taken
for pleasure riding. About half a
mile from the mill a mountain brook
dashes down and forms a series
of cascades of remarkable beauty,
second to but few in our state.

Coming back to the village and
taking the road leading north from
Main street to Alstead, we come to
the village cemetery, which is en-
tirely private, owned now by Mrs.
Esther ly. Newman. North of here
is the farm of the late George W.
Newman. Here is a sugar orchard

Village School-House.

of 1, 600 trees. Mr. Newman rose
from poverty to wealth by his econ-
omy, industry, and good judgment.
He built more houses in town than
any other person, run a sawmill for
many years, and was closely identi-
fied with the business of the place.
He repeatedly served as selectman.
In 1893, he was killed by the falling
of a tree.

The road leads on up the hill past
several cottages for nearl}^ half a
mile. From the summit there is a
pretty view. Eastward can be seen
Boynton hill in Sullivan, and a lesser
range of hills in the same town, while
northward one looks upon an appar-
ently prosperous farming district.
The hilltop farm is John Wellman's.
Here once resided George C. Hub-
bard, now of Fitzwilliam. He was
county commissioner, school super-
intendent for many years, and a
highly respected citizen. This place,
too, was the residence of that enter-
prising person, Jesse Dart, previous
to his removal to Keene. The
next farm is owned b}^ James A.
Nichols, the milkman, and is known
as the Eliphalet Webster place.
This Webster was a colonel in the
militia, selectman three years, and
twice a member of the legislature.
This farm extends to the Alstead
town line, Init from the point just
mentioned can be seen the farms of
J. H. Carroll, W. A. French, A. M.
French, whose place is christened
"Ledgeside," of George E. New-
man, the trader, and of M. J. Kidder.
They are all within two and one half
miles of Gilsum village, and their
business and social relations are such
that they are considered as belonging
to the town for all ordinary purposes
except to vote and pay taxes.

GILSUM.

289

From Main street south, the road
follows the course of the Ashuelot
river past the mill of the Gilsum
Woolen Manufacturing company and
the saw and grist-mill of S. W. Dart,
to the stone bridge. On the right,
high on the hill and beautifully sit-
uated and laid out is the Centennial
cemetery. It is now the chief rest-
ing-place of the dead in town. A
few rods from this cemetery is a spot
sacred to the Mormon church. In
1775, here was born the mother of
Hiram -and Joseph Smith, two of
the greatest leaders of the Mormon
church, who sealed their faith with

the board of education and is prom-
inent in grange circles. The farm
extends up the side of Surr}' moun-
tain, and a good path leads to its
summit, from which the greater part
of the town of Surry can be seen,
a panorama of wondrous beauty.
The farm has been fitly christened
"Mountain View farm." In a de-
pression on the summit of the moun-
tain is a lil}^ pond of several acres in
extent, wdiose waters are very deep.
This place would make an ideal sum-
mer resort.

Recrossing the Hammond Hollow
bridge and continuing down the

Oscar A. Mack.

A D Hammond.

Ezra Adams.

their blood, both being killed by a
mob at Carthage, 111., in 1844.

Continuing our journe}' down the
river for about half a mile, we come
to another bridge. Crossing it, we
are in " Hatamond hollow." On the
farm now owned by O. O. Cross, the
poultry keeper, was spent the earl}-
life of Lucy Blish, who married
Bishop Hedding of the Methodist
Episcopal church.

A few rods from here was the birth-
place and early home of the late Isaac
W. Hammond, for many years deputy
.secretary of state and editor of state
papers. At the end of a branch of
this road is the home of O. J. Will-
son. He has been selectman, is on

river, we come to the Butler place,
now owned by Frank P. Crain. The
house is on a high bluff above the
river and commands a fine view. In
natural attractions it would be difh-
cult to find a place its equal for a
summer residence.

A short distance from here was the
boyhood home of Oscar A. Mack.
He graduated from West Point in
1850, ranking eighth in a class of
forty-eight. He served his country
with distinguished ability and bra-
very during the Civil War, and died
while on special duty in the army in
New Mexico, with the rank of col-
onel.

The stone bridge was first built in

290

GILSUM.

^:^^

Francis A. Howard.

Col. Daniel Smith.

i860 at a cost of $950, but owing to
fault)' construction the arch fell in
after a few months' use. Another
stone arch bridge was soon erected,
and this time in the best possible
manner at a cost of over $5,000.
The arch is the largest of any bridge
in the state used for a highway. Be-
fore the stone bridges were built a
wooden bridge was maintained after

1778.

On the south side of this bridge is

a hamlet called the lower village.

In 1833, V. W. Day built a store

here and did a large business till his

death in 1840. The building was

used as a dwelling-house until last

fall, when it was bought by J. K.

Isham, who has remodeled it, and

now has a neat store and a good line

of groceries, etc.

A few rods south of the stone
l)ridge the roads diverge. The left-
hand one is called the "new road,"
and is the direct route to Keene. It
is a county road and was opened in
1839, after a bitter contest.

The residences of the Bridge broth-
ers and of L. W. Wilder are the only
houses on the road until Keene street
is reached, a distance of eight miles,
and yet a drive over it is a source of
real pleasure. The road-bed is good.
There are level stretches along the
Beaver Brook meadows, and there is

Bingham hill which must be climbed
with its huge ledges and boulders
near the summit.

A little west of this road and near
the Keene line occurred a noted bear
fight in 1777. Eleazer Wilcox and
Joshua Osgood were hunting for the
bear. While they were a short dis-
tance from each other, the bear sud-
denly attacked Mr. Wilcox, who
fired at him but his gun missed fire.

TDis^ *

"ill

Residence of Samue! W. Dart.

The bear, standing on his hind legs,
struck the gun with his fore paws
with such force as to bend back the
guard and make a deep dent. The
man and bear now clinched. He
seized the bear's tongue and held on
for dear life. The barking of his dog
and his cries were heard by Mr. Os-
good, w4io hastened to the spot. At
first he hesitated about firing, lest he
should kill his friend ; but realizing
the unequal conflict, he heeded the
importunities of Mr. Wilcox and
fired. The bear fled, and the next
day was found dead. Mr. Wilcox
received over forty flesh wounds, and
never was as strong as before this
encounter. He occasionally had ill
turns, which he called "bear fits."

The right-hand road from the stone
bridge is the old road to Keene, and
leads to the first settlement in town.

GILSUM.

291

The farm where Col. Daniel Smith
lived many years is the first one on
this road. On that level mowing at
the left, a few rods from this place,
was located the old church. Oppo-
site was the hotel, and near by were
two blacksmith shops and several
dwelling-houses. The farm now
owned b}^ Edward Loiselle was the
home of Gen. Daniel Wright for 30
years. He moved to Westport, N. Y..
about 1796, and became an ofhcer in
the militia of that state. In the last
war wuth Great Britain he was the
commander of the land forces in the
Battle of Plattsburg, . and " Avon an
enviable reputation as an officer."

Climbing the hill, we come to the
Bill farm, which has been in the pos-
session of this family for 119 years.

k/l/

George W. Newman.

George E. Newman.

the present^occupant, Daniel W. Bill,
being the great-grandson of the origi-
nal settler. He has added tract after
tract to the farm, until it is now the
largest area of land in town under
the proprietorship of one individual.
The farm contains a "maple sugar or-
chard of nearly two thousand trees.
Besides his farming business he has
been extensively engaged in the man-
ufacture of ox-yokes and chopping-
trays, and in getting out timber for
various other purposes. He served

as brigadier-general in the state mili-
tia, as representative 4 years, select-
man 23 years, and as trustee of the
New Hampshire Industrial school
from 1 88 1 to 1891, besides filling
many other positions of honor and
responsibility.

From the top of Webster hill, a
mile farther on, an extensive view is
obtained, with the Grand Monadnock
mountain as the most prominent fea-
ture. Although it is about fifteen
miles distant, it can be so clearly
seen in favorable atmospheric con-
ditions as to .seem less than half that
distance awa)'.

B. H. Britton, who has two .sons
that ha\-e graduated from the Agri-
cultural college, lives on the south
slope of Webster hill. Farther south
is the Gunn farm, extending to the
Keene line, where for man}' years
lived the Kilburns. Josiah Kilburn
built a log -house on this farm in
1762, and a few 3'ears later put up
the first framed house in Gilsum.
He was a member of the board of
.selectmen in 1762, and a moderator
at the first meeting of the proprie-
tors. His son, libenezer, eventually
became the owner of the place. He
w^as the father of the first white child
born in town, and bore a prominent

Hemenway Place.

292

GILSUM.

part in the early history of Gilsum.
His brother, David, became a Meth-
odist minister, and filled with credit
many important appointments, such
as presiding elder in the Providence,
R. I., district and the Boston district.
He had great pulpit power, and was
a natural leader. He died in 1865,
and was buried in Greenlawn ceme-
tery, Keene.

It is not within the scope of this

George B. Rawson.

Lucius R. Guillow.

article to mention all who have con-
tributed to the good name of the
town. The Guillow family has been
a numerous one in town for nearly
a century. L,ucius R. Guillow has
been selectman several times and
also representative. There have been
several families of Fosters, to one of
whom belong the ancestors of lycon-
ard P. Foster, of the N. H. Trust
company, of Manchester.

Although Gilsum is one of the
most healthy of towns, it has had the
services of from one to three phy-
sicians for more than a century. The
first was Abner Bliss, and after him
came Benjamin Hosmer, who was
succeeded by Henry Kendrick in
1805. J. P^. Davis practised here
from 1 8 16 to 1820. Dr. Palmer was
here also, and remained till 1822.
While he was in practice here an
extensive epidemic of typhoid fever

prevailed, with twenty fatal cases in
a few^ weeks. Timoth}- S. I^ane came
next. George Washington Hammond
was a physician here for 36 j^ears,
removing to New York in 1866. He
was prominent in his profession and
as a citizen. W. H. Aldrich and
F. E. Johnson both commenced busi-
ness in this town. The former is
now in practice in Marlborough, and
the latter in Erving, Mass. Kimball
D. Webster was graduated from the
medical college at Woodstock, Vt., in
1836, and the following year located
in this town. He is the oldest prac-
titioner in this vicinity, having passed
his eighty-sixth birthday, and having
been in practice for sixty years. I. A.
Eoveland located here in .1882, hav-
ing previously practised in Westmore-
land for seven years.

For a small town, Gilsum has had
a large number of churches, and its

El .1 iM_

Residence of F. C. Minor.

inhabitants have entertained a variety
of religious beliefs. By reason of the
marriage of Lucy Mack to Joseph
Smith, the Mormon denomination
formed a church here with 16 mem-
bers in the fall of 1842, but it con-
tinued to thrive only a short time.
Millerism was preached the same
year. The excitement was great,
and many temporary converts w^ere
made.

Universalists and Baptists have

GILSUM.

had preaching here, but no church
organization. The Christian church
had a foothold here for a time,
through the efforts of Elders Rollins
and Smith, in 1816. At long inter-
vals the few Catholics in town are
visited b\' a priest, who holds reli-

gious services.

Methodist preachers came to Gil-
sum as early as 1801, and preached
in private houses, barns, and where-

Lily Pond, on Surry Mountain.

ever the}' could. It was not till 1848
that a church edifice was erected on
the east side o"f Main street at an
expense of $1,450. Preaching was
maintained here most of the time till
1876, when the building w^as sold to
the town for a town hall. Most of
the members of this church trans-
ferred their membership to the Con-
gregational church.

Of the numerous pastors that
preached in town two deserve men-
tion, by reason of the distinction they
achieved in after life. MarHn Ruter
preached here when only 16 years
old, and was congidered a prodig}'.
The only institution of learning he
attended was the common school,
but so great was his thirst for knowl-
edge that he became a scholar of the
first rank. He was honored with
the degree of doctor of divinity ; was
appointed president of Alleghany col-
lege, and was one of the foremost

clergymen of his day. The other was
lilijah Hedding, who preached here
about 1806, and four years later mar-
ried a daughter of Deacon Blisli, of
this town. He advanced, step by
step, till finally he was elected bish-
op, the most exalted position in his
church.

The Congregational church was
the first one formed, has been the
most influential, and is now the only
church in town. It was organized
at a private house in 1772 and was
composed of eighteen members. A
church building was soon put up in
the south part of the town. During
the Revolutionary War the people
gathered here to make their plans
and to enlist.

In 1793, a new church building
was put up a little northeast of Ves-
sel rock, which was supposed to be

Isaac W. Hannmond.

O. J. Willson.

the exact centre of the town. The
pulpit was high, with a sounding-
board over head. Galleries ex-
tended around three sides of the
room. There was no means of
wanning the church, so between the
sermons in cold weather the people
would go into the tavern near-by to
warm themselves. The women
would then fill their foot-stoves with
li\e coals from the open fireplace,
and the men would take a little ' ' hot

294

GILSUM.

Residence of F. P. Grain.

toddy" or " slinu- " to kee]i the cold
out.

This church had no settled pastor
until 1794, when Elisha Fish, a grad-
uate of Han'ard college, was or-
dained. He continued its pastor
until his death in 1807. For a long
time afterwards, the church was with-
out a settled pastor. Reading-meet-
ings and prayer- meetings were kept
up most of the time. In 1S19, Rew
Mr. Rich came here, and it was
through his efforts that a Sunday-
school was organized. Some money
for his support was obtained from the
Xew Hampshire Missionary society.

The town owned the cliurch build-
ings and held its annual meeting and
other business meetings in it. Other
denominations were given a chance
to occupy its pulpit a part of the time.
These conditions, coupled with the
fact that the factory village, then .so
called, was increa.sing in population,
induced the church authorities to seek
a new location and build a new edifice.

In 1834, it was completed on its pres-
ent site at a cost of $2,000. Preaching
has been pretty regularly maintained
here. Among those who have filled
its pulpit and shed a beneficent influ-
ence through town was the devoted
Arnold, who was here for eighteen
}ears ; the scholarly Tisdale, and the
self-sacrificing and gifted Adams and
Wood. vSilvanus Hayward, a native
of the town, a graduate of Dartmouth
college, and a person of unusual men-
tal attainments, filled the pulpit four
years, beginning in 1875. During
this time he wrote the " History of

N. O. Hayward.

Allen Hayward.

Residence of H. E. Adarrs.

Gilsuni," a work that will stand a
monument to his ability and industry
as long as the town exi.sts. To this
work we are greath- indebted for
many facts contained in this article.

Of recent pastors, mention must be
made of the classical Rogers, the loui-
cal Phelps, the social and popular
Renshaw, and the studious Gove.
The latter resigned at the beginning:
of the present year, after laboring
here a little over two \ears.

Connected with the church is a
flourishing Christian Kndeavor so-
ciety, a .society of King's Daughters,
a Cliurch Aid societ>-, and a Men's
Pra\ing band.

Six schools are nu\intained, with
three terms a year. In the \-illage
there is a modern school-house con-

GILSUM.

295

taining two grades. Miss Lila Ma-
sou, of Sullivan, has taught in the
primary grade for eight years. Pri-
vate schools have been occasionally
maintaiued for a single term at a
time. For ad\'anced instruction our
.scholars are obliged to go out of
town. Seven have been to the Agri-
cultural college, of whom five have
graduated, and one is there now.
Three of the graduates have taken
post-graduate courses at Cornell Uni-
versity. The academies at New
London, Meriden, Saxton's River,
Vt., Ashburnham, Mass., and North-
field seminary have educated a large
number of our boys and girls. Four
have been graduated from the classi-
cal department of Dartmouth college,
four from the medical department, and
one from the scientific department.

Theron Ha>-ward and Oscar Mack
Metcalf were the only natives of Gil-
sum that ever entered upon the prac-
tice of law. The legal career of the
former was in \>rmont, where he
enjoyed the esteem of a large circle
of friends. He was judge of probate,
and a member of the national conven-
tion in 184S that nominated Van
Buren and Adams.

Oscar Mack Metcalf was three
3'ears in Dartmouth college, read law

Residence of D. W. Bill.

George H. Leach and Family.

in Portland, Me., and was there ad-
mitted to the bar about 1875.

Two other persons who became
lawyers .spent a part of their bo>'hood
in town. One was George \V. Hen-
dee. He, too, spent his mature
years in ^'ermont, where he was
elected lieutenant-governor, and l)y
the death of Governor Washburn in
1870 he became governor of \'er-
mont. In 1872, he was elected mem-
ber of Congress. The other was
Stephen \V. Horton, who settled in
IvOuisville, Ky., and being fluent in
.speech and a hustler, he was rapidl\'
building up an extensive practice
when he died at the age of forty.

Rev. Ezra Adams's voungest .son,
Myron W., was born in i860. He
graduated from Dartmouth college in
1 88 1, at the head of his class, .studied
theology at Hartford, Conn., and en-
tered upon the Congregational min-
istry After preaching at Hopkinton
and other places for several years, he
accepted a call to the Greek pro-
fes.sorship of Atlanta University,
which chair he is now filling. Last

>9<5

GILSUM.

year he was elected dean of the
facuk}-.

We ha\'e to admit that Gilsuni has
too many who love the intoxicating
cup, yet the town has done much to
promote the cause of temperance.

In 1827, Deacon Amherst Hay-
wood raised a small building without
rum. Only five persons in town
would assist him, while a crowd of
rum drinkers stood near and hooted.
The Washingtonian movement re-
sulted in the organization of a society
here in the fall of 1840. After doing

this respect there is a gratifying im-
provement.

A division of the Sons of Tem-
perance has been formed here at two
different times. There was also a
Reform club, but the organization
that accomplished the most was the
Young People's Temperance society.
Its aim was to reach the young. The
pledge was a triple one, as follows :
' ' We agree that we will neither buy
nor sell, nor use, as a beverage any
intoxicating drinks, neither will we
chew, smoke, or snuff tobacco, or use

Monadnock Mountain, from Webster Hill.

what good they could lor three years,
the society collected the following
facts : Whole number of persons in
town, 645 ; pledged to total absti-
nence, 309 ; others not known to
drink intoxicating liquors, 107 ; mod-
erate drinkers, 71 ; frequent drinkers,
29; drunkards, 16; children not old
enough to have a desire for liquor,
113. The society reported that over
half the farms were carried on that
year without the use of intoxicating
liquor. No farmer/ now finds it
necessary to resort to strong drink to
conduct his farm operations, and in

profane language." In a year and a
half there were 144 members. Meet-
ings were held almost every two
weeks for nine years.

Beginning with the War of the
Revolution and extending down the
decades through the Civil War, Gil-
sum has ever been lo3'al to her coun-
try. During the Revolution not a
Tory resided within its borders. The
following incident illustrates the
dominant spirit of that period. In
Keene there were a number of
avowed Tories, and Captain Mack of
this town resolved to seize them.

GILSUM.

297

With this object in view, he collected
a party of armed men in the night,
and sent forward a snflficient number
of them to guard the various doors of
the Tories' houses. At daylight he
appeared with the bod>- of his men
and ordered his sentinels to ' ' turn
out the prisoners," while a search
was made for arms supposed to be
concealed. He collected quite a
luimber of persons who were con-
fined a few hours in a house on the
present ,^ite of the Boston & Maine
freight depot. The presence of Mack
and his men \vas soon made known
to Captain Howlet, who commanded
the local militia. He instantl}' sent
messengers to warn his company to
appear prepared for action, and at
the same time despatched an aid to
Colonel Alexander of Winchester,
the regimental commander. By the
middle of the forenoon, Howlet
formed his company on Main street
opposite West, street. Mack's men
extended across the street facing
their antagonists. For a time it
looked as if a bloody battle was
about to be fought. Colonel Alex-
ander asked Captain Mack if he in-
tended to carr}- out his plans. He
said he did, at the hazard of his life.
Then he was told by the colonel in a
most emphatic manner that he must
prepare for eternity ; that he should
not be permitted to take vengeance
in this unlawful manner on any men,
even if tlie\' were Tories. The ar-
dor of many was cooled by this reso-
lute speech, and aftfer deliberating a
while, Mack and his men silently left
town.

In the War of 1S12 no demand was
made on Gilsum for soldiers until the

fall of 1 8 14, when it was ordered to
furnish seven men for the defense of
Portsmouth. A draft was proposed,
but 14 men volunteered.

In the War of the Rebellion Gil-
sum nobly responded to all calls.
The town paid a l)Ounty of $300 to
each drafted man or his substitute.
The whole number of men furnished
by the town during the war was 71,
of whom 29 were citizens of the town
at the time of their enlistment.

The ladies could not go to the
front, bv;t early in the conflict they
formed the Soldiers' Aid society,
and sent to the field dried fruit, bed-
ding, clothing, etc., and over $200 in
money was raised for the relief of the
soldiers.

Gilsum is not widely known. It
does not figure in history, or in the
political or financial world. It is,
however, the home of 600 souls that
are, for the most part, happy and
contented. It has sent out into the
world scores of its best sons and
daughters, some of whom spend a
season in town each recurring sum-
mer. They often take with them
some friend from the crowded city
who here finds the desired rest, and
who becomes enthusiastic over our
charming drives, our winding brooks,
cozy nooks and glens, and pictu-
resque scenery.

The number of summer visitors is
constantly increasing, yet not one of
our many desirable farms is taken by
the summer resident. When the
natural attractions of the town are
more widely known, it is hoped that
Gilsum may become the sunnner
home of a numerous, intelligent,
and wealthv connnunitv.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT, NEW HAMP-
SHIRE VOLUNTEERS.

By Adjutant Lictlier Tracy Townsend.

CHAPTER IX.

CAPTURE' OF FORT BURTON, AT BUTTE A i,A ROSE.

HE territory lying west
of the Mississippi and
south of Opelousas,
called the "paradise of
the South," sometimes
" the garden of the South," together
with its numerous waterways, had
been looked upon as valuable fields
of conquest for the Union army.

As early as October of the previous
year, 1862, General Butler fitted out
an expedition to secure control, if
possible, of that part of Louisiana .

A fleet of five vessels sailed from
New Orleans, entered Atchafalaya
Bay, followed up the bayou or river
bearing the same name, and entered
Bayou Teche.

For the purpose of cooperating
with this fleet. General Weitzel with
five regiments at the same time
crossed the Mississippi at Donaldson-
ville, and after two or three battles
with the Confederates reached Brash-
ear early in January, 1863. But the
country was found to be so well de-
fended and there were so many obsta-
cles preventing the navigation of
Bayous Teche and Atchafalaya that
these undertakings for the subjuga-
tion of the Confederates in that sec-
tion of the .state were for the time
abandoned.

General Butler a few weeks later

was superseded b}- General Banks.
Banks after taking command was
equally impressed with the desirable-
ness, if not necessity, of occupying
this important territory ; accordingly
late in the month of January he or-
ganized two expeditions, one under
General Weitzel with 4,000 men,
which was to move up the Teche
countr}' from Berwick, and the other
under General Emory with 3,000
men to .move up the Atchafalaya
from the same place. They were or-
dered to operate in conjunction, and
capture Fort Burton at Butte a la
Rose and destroy its fortifications.

But owing to difficulties in secur-
ing suitable transportation, and
owing to the supposed strength of
the fortifications at Butte a la Rose
and the number of the garrison, this
expedition likewise was abandoned.

But now that our troops were ad-
vancing up the Teche country it be-
came necessary to undertake again the
project that had been twice abandoned,
namely, the clearing of the Atchafa-
laya of all Confederates and if possi-
ble the capturing of Butte a la Rose ;
for while the enemy held that point
not only was our advancing army em-
perilled, but there would be uninter-
rupted navigation for the Confederates
between Red river and Brashear City.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

299

In the adjutant's journal is this
note, dated April 15: "The indica-
tions are that our regiment will garri-
son this place [Brashear] until our
term of enlistment expires."

But on the morning of April 18,
three days later, we received orders
to put the regiment in readiness for
marching at a moment's notice. Ac-
cordingly, at noon we were relieved
by the Fourth Massachusetts. Our
regiment was at once reorganized
into a battalion of six companies.

Conlpan}' ofhcers who were able to
report for dutj' were assigned com-
mand according to their rank, in this

new organization.

Meantime, the boys were busy pre-
paring their outfit. They were or-
dered to supply themselves with one
day's rations and one hundred rounds
of ammunition. When the order
came to "fall in" they were ready
and marched to the pier, whence they
were to depart on this important, and
what was considered perilous mis-
sion. The other four companies, be-
ing on detached duty, from which
they could not then be relieved, were
to follow a few days later.

We were distributed on four gun-
boats that had received orders "to pro-
ceed up Bayou Atchafalaya to clear
it of obstructions and of Confederate
gunboats, and to make an attack on
Butte a la Rose. If this attack proved
successful, the Sixteenth w^as to be
left to garrison and defend it.

The fleet, consisting of the gun-
boats Clifton, Arizona, Calliouii, and
Estirlla, was under the command of
A. P. Cook. The major and adju-
tant were assigned duty on the , /;/-
zo7ia, the courage and brilliancy of
whose commander already were well
known. It should be borne in mind

that the whole country for fifty miles
west of the Mississippi, including,
therefore, the territory of which we
are now speaking, is covered with
countless bayous, lakes, rivers, and
swamps that cross and connect with
one another, many of them during
the season of high water being easily
navigable for boats of considerable
draught. At the time of which we
are writing, the Atchafalaya was
navigable from the Gulf of Mexico to
Red river, and as suggested, Butte a
la Rose was the key both to these va-
rious connecting bodies of water and
to the entire country lying between
Opelousas and Port Hudson on the
north, to the Gulf of Mexico on the
south, to the Mississippi on the east,
and to the Teche countr}^ on the west.
The accompanying map gives an
idea of the number of the larger and
navigable bayous in the part of
Louisiana of which we are speaking.
But aside from these there were num-
berless smaller ones.

300

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

In sailing up the Atchafalaya and
across its chain of lakes and connect-
ing bayous, nothing eventful hap-
pened during the first da}^ which
was April i8. Just before dark on
the evening of that day, near the
head of Grand Lake, the flag boat
Estrrlla signalled the others that
they were to tie up for the night.
She alone cast anchor, the others as
a precautionary and utilitj^ measure
were moored to her by hemp haw-
sers. Should there be, as was ex-
pected, a night attack from the Con-
federate gunboats, which were just
above us, these hawsers easily could
be slipped and the boats quickly
brought into position for action.

At nine o'clock, as an additional
precaution, every light on the boats
was extinguished or shaded ; but the
night passed without anything of im-
portance transpiring.

At daybreak we were moving and
passed through Chene bayou into a
lake of the same name. The coun-
try was found everywhere flooded, in
consequence of unusually high water,
caused, it was said, by cuts in the
Missis.sippi that Grant had made in
his effort to capture Vicksburg.

The scenery along the margin of
the bayou, as had been that along
the shores of Grand I/ake and other
bayous the day before, was monoto-
nous and uninspiring. The heavy
foliage of the trees, the immense
growth of moss, the dense under-
growth of vines, brushwood and sap-
lings afforded the fittest place in the
world for "the slimy pathway" of
moccasin and rattle snakes and for
the stealthy creeping of numberless
alligators and other reptiles, but was
a miserable enough place for boys
whose birthplace had l)een on the

shores of the transparent streams and
lakes and among the granite moun-
tains of New Hampshire.

The vaporous atmosphere and trop-
ical cloud-drapery of this section of
Louisiana, apart from their novelty,
were quite destitute of interest after
the first few hours.

In this advance the gunboat Clifton
was in the lead, but at nine o'clock
she met with an accident by running
into a tree and dropped back for re-
pairs. The Arizona meanwhile took
the lead. Near noon, being within
two miles of Butte a la Rose, she was
made fast to a tree and we waited
anxiously for the coming of the rest
of the fleet that had been detained by
reason of the accident to the Clifton.

Commander Upton was desirous of
making an attack on Butte a la Rose
alone, and most of our men were
willing , if not over-anxious that he
should do this. But his orders from
the cautious Captain Cook were ex-
plicit ; he must, therefore,' await the
coming of the other boats. As they
did not put in an appearance, the
Ai'izona, late in the afternoon,
dropped down the bayou, but in
doing so became unmanageable ; a
strong current swung her against a
tree and smashed the wheel-house.

At length, in a somewhat dilap-
idated condition, she reached the re-
mainder of the fleet at the head of
Lake Chene. Here the boats were
moored for the night in a manner
similar to that of the night before.

The chief matters of interest dur-
ing the day were the difficulties of
navigating the tortuous bayous, the
shooting of two of our gunners by
Confederate guerrillas, who were
concealed somewhere in the swamp
and behind the trees, and the taking

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT. 301

of two prisoners who were in citizen's upon the Confederate gunboats, while
dress, rather poor at that, and who the .7 ;7.ci?;/« brought her guns to bear
were questioned and cross-questioned, on the fort. Captain Crocker, hear-
but the information gained was of no ing the port guns of the .Irizona and
material value. One of the men, who knowing that she would take care of
claimed to be a Unionist (of this, the fort without his help, began a
however, there was some doubt), after chase after the retiring Confederate
assuring Captain Upton of his perfect gunboats. Meantime, both the Clif-
loyalty and thorough acquaintance ton and Arizona sent their broadsides
with the entire country, was taken of grape from the starboard guns into
into the wheelhouse to assist in pilot- the forest to keep in check any lurk-
ing the boat. ing guerrillas that might be con-

At daybreak, April 20, the boats cealed there. Shell, grape, and

were again freed from their moorings spherical case were flying in every

and started up the narrow bayou, direction where an enemy was likely

the Arizona this time being in the to be concealed, though the fort and

lead. Confederate gunboats received far the

Coming within sight of the fort at larger part of our attention.

Butte a la Rose, she dropped back While in close quarters with the

by order of Captain Cook, and the enemy, a well-aimed solid shot from

Clifton^ under conmiand of Captain the fort struck the walking beam of

Frederic Crocker, having by far the the Clifton. She was thought at first

heavier armament, led the fleet. to be completely disabled, but fortu-

Everybody was now in a state of nateh^ this was not the case. That,

expectancy. The guns of the fort and however, was the last shot of the

those of the two Confederate boats enemy. Under our rapid and close

were trained on our slowly advanc- firing, the Confederates could not re-

ing fleet. We were in danger, also, load their heavier guns, and soon we

or at least felt as though we were, saw their flag pulled down and a

of being picked off by sharpshooters white flag, or rather rag, raised in

concealed among the trees skirting its place.

both sides of the bayou, who had The Callioioi and the Estretla next

wounded one and killed another of came into position ; but all that was

our gunnei-s the day before. left for them to do was to take formal

At ten o'clock the "ball opened" possession of the fort,

with a hundred pounder from a Par- The Clifton and .Irizona, without

rott gun on the bows of the Cliftoii. waiting for orders, started in pursuit

From that moment the work was live- of the two Confederate boats, the

ly on both sides. The reverberations ]\'cbb and .lAcri' /., which soon after

of the larger guns among those dense the attack began, had taken flight,

forests .skirting the narrow channel But within twenty minutes they mjs-

were deafening. The rapid discharge teriou-sl}^ were lost from view, except-

of muskets, too, showed that our ing the smoke they left behind. Our

boys were doing in earnest their part shells were sent after them and an

in this assault on the enemy's works, occasional broadside was discharged

The CI i ft 0)1 concentrated her fire into the forests in answer to the

;o2

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

sharpshooters who now and then sent
us a greeting without, however, do-
ing our boat much damage. These
concealed enemies w^ere especially
dreaded hy both our boys and the
marines. Even the fearless Upton
was seen involuntarily to duck his
head as the crack of the rifle was
heard and the bullets went whistling
past him. These "swamp devils,"
as the boys called them, took their
stand behind some huge tree or
among its branches, fired their deadly
rifles and the next moment were in
perfect hiding.

The Clifton, being somewhat dis-
abled, soon gave up the chase, but
the Arizona continued until we were
twelve miles up the bayou, beyond
Butte a la Rose, and still nothing but
the smoke of the Confederate boats
could be seen, which were then sailing
well to the west of us. vSoon it dawned
upon Captain Upton that we had been
fooled. That tall, lank Louisiana
(Yankee) whom we had taken on
board the day before, who pretended
to be a Unionist, who appeared to be
honest as the daj-s were long, who
claimed to know thoroughly every
waterwa}- in the state, and who was
allowed to pilot us, confessed at length
that a bad mi.stake had been made,
but that he was entirely innocent.

We believe, however, that the whole
business was a put-up job to prevent
the capture of the Confederate boats.
This man had allowed himself to be
taken pri.soner the day before by the
foremost boat of the fleet, judging,
no doul)t, that it also would lead in
the pursuit of the Confederate boats
if they were compelled to take flight
during the fight at Fort Burton. In
this he had judged correctly. The
^Irizona was the fastest boat in the

fleet and had taken the lead. As
the Webb and Mary J. sailed up the
bayou under cover of smoke they
passed into a narrow channel that
turned sharply to the left, while the
Arizona, which quickly followed,
kept on in what appeared to be
the main channel, but really was
not. The channel taken by the Con-
federates was the main one ; while
the one taken by us was Bayou Ala-
bama, an unimportant stream, which
after meandering for several miles and
becoming unnavigable, reaches again
Bayou Atchafalaya.

At last the rebel pilot reported to
the captain that owing to shoal water
he could go no further. This was true,
though the other things said by him
we think were lies. We now had
lost so nuich time that we could not
return to the point of departure and
renew the pursuit of the Confederate
boats, ~ which already were miles
away.

After putting our lately self-con-
stituted pilot under arrest. Captain
Upton regretfully headed his boat for
Butte a la Ro.se. On the way down
we landed on a plantation belonging
to a Confederate, Davis by name, who
had been a banker in New Orleans,
but was then serving in the treasury
department of the Confederacy in
Richmond. His estate, one of the few
then out of water, furnished excellent
foraging ground. There were fowl,
sheep, small cattle, swine, articles of
household furniture, guns, and other
useful articles that were appropriated
without restrictions, for Banks's head-
quarters were now far away, and his
staff could no longer forbid the exe-
cution of international military for-
aging laws.

On reachinu" h'ort lUirton we landed

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

303

and took possession of better barracks
than we liad seen since our enlist-
ment. They were more room\- and
better buih than those at Concord, or
than those in New York.

There were sixty Confederates, in-
cluding five commissioned officers,
who were made prisoners. lender
guard of men detailed from Com-
pany A, Lieutenant Cooper com-
manding, these prisoners were sent
to Algiers.

Had it not been for the stupidity
or perfidy of our pilot, we certainly
.should have overtaken and captured
the two Confederate gunboats, that
afterwards caused us no little annoy-
ance ; and also we should have taken
a much' larger number of prisoners,
for according to the reports of contra-
bands who had witnessed the flight,
the two boats were crowded with
those who had garrisoned Butte a la

Rose, the larger part of whom were
young business and professional men
from New Orleans — "the flower of
the city" it was said.

We ought, however, to have been
satisfied. We had lost but two men
killed and two wounded, and these
were gunners, and we had captured
Fort Burton, the most strategic point
north of Berwick Bay and south of
Red river. But for our boys it was
to be an expensive capture. Its Con-
federate commander, as we stepped
upon the parapet, made a signifi-
cant remark to one of our officers :

' ' You are doubtless glad to get
here, but you will be gladder when
you leave."

No prophet of early or late times
ever has offered a truer prediction.
The following diagram will give the
reader an idea of the topography of
the country :

GULF- OP MEXICO

?04

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

CHAPTER X.

DETACHED SERVICE.

/. Service Rendered by Covipeoiy C.

The captain of the Arizona, of
■whom we have already spoken, D. P.
Upton, the son of one of the "royal
merchants'" of Boston, Mass., is en-
titled to more words of praise than
we ha^•e .space here to give, but we
cannot refrain from saying that he
had a heart brave as that of a lion,
and yet was at all times a courteons
gentlemen except to cowards, and in
the thickest of a fight was always
conspicuously present and at all times
was perfectly compo.sed. He had
studied our bo^'S on the wa}- up the
Atchafalaya, saw their metal when
under fire during the fight and
capture of Fort Burton, and asked
for a detachment of the Sixteenth to
accompany him while opening the
Atchafalaya to the Mississippi. Ac-
cordingly, a part of Company C,
under command of Lieutenant Ed-
ward J. O'Donnell, was detailed to
go with this expedition.

The Arizona sailed up the bayou
on the forenoon of April 28, and
three days later, May i, joined Far-
ragut's fleet on the Mi.s.si,s.sippi, above
Port Hudson. May 3, a part of this
fleet, including the Arizona, started
up Red river to Alexandria, but on
account of ob.structions at De Russie
and because of an attack from masked
batteries, the senior conunander, the
captain of the Australia, ordered the
fleet to withdraw. It turned out
afterwards that the Confederates had
ordered an evacuation of their works
and under cover of smoke, at the
\-ery time our boats withdrew, were
spiking their heavier guns and roll-

ing the smaller ones into the river.
The Confederate gunboat Mary J.,
loaded with cotton, had been set on
fire, and the Webb in the fight had
been disabled. A little more per-
severance or persistence would have
secured a notable victory, instead of
one that is hardly worth the mention.

Reenforced by some of Admiral
Porter's rams, which had run the
fortifications at Vicksburg, the fleet
returned the next day to De Russie,
meeting, however, no opposition.
The Arizona then proceeded to Alex-
andria, reaching there nearly twenty-
four hours in advance of the other
boats, and our men of the Sixteenth
had the satisfaction and honor of rais-
ing the United States flag in that cit}',
in the face and eyes of Confederate
citizens .and within sight of a com-
pany of Confederate cavalry, who
were mounted and ready to take flight
if our boys had moved toward them.

A few daj'S later the Arizona sailed
for Harrisburgh on Boeuf river, one
of the tributaries of Red river, and for
two days, May 10 and 11, our men
were under fire at Fort Beauregard.
But this fort was so well defended
and admirably located that it could
not be taken, except by a land force
of considerable numbers, and there-
fore the fleet returned to Alexandria,
May 12.

They were these detached men of
our regiment, loo, who formed an
escort for General Dwight, May 16 to
22, at the time he went to Grand
Gulf, Miss., to carry despatches and to
hold a conference with General Grant.

After their return, they were as-
signed provost guard duty at vSt. Fran-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

305

cisville. A little later important des-
patches between the staff officers of
General Grant and. those of General
Banks were carried under the escort
of our men.

It must be conceded that this de-
tachment of Company C, during its
brief absence from the regiment, per-
formed a great variety of important
services and from all reports it is evi-
dent that those sen'ices were rendered
in a thoroughly satisfactory manner.
These men left the regiment April 28
and returned June 14.'

//. Service Rendered by Company G .

As already stated, the country sur-
rounding Fort Burton and up and
down the Atchafalaya was occupied
and scoured by Rebel guerrillas who
were ready at all times to fall upon
any detachments of the Union army.
The}' were constantl}- firing upon un-
armed transports passing up or down
the river. Not many days after our
arrival at Butte a la Rose, the steamer
Louisiana Belle on the way down the
river, having on board a large num-
ber of sick and wounded soldiers on
their way to the hospitals of New
Orleans, called at Fort Burton for
assistance, having been fired upon a
few miles above. The captain of the
boat was liiortally wounded. This
dastardly and cowardly act of the
Confederates aroused the indignation
of our men, and the captain of Com-
pany G, George \V._ Bosworth, antici-
pating that the next boat coming up
the Atchafalaya would call at Fort
Burton for a detachment of soldiers
to assist in defending the boat, went
immediately to regimental headquar-
ters and asked the ])rivilege of per-
forming such service if it were re-

' Tlie author is indebted for these facts larsfelv

quired. On Ma\' 30 the anticipated
request was made, and Captain Bos-
worth received orders to go on board
the steamer ( ^nion with all available
men of his company. Quite a num-
ber of the compan\- had ])een sent to
the hospital and several were on
picket duty, so that there were but
twenty-eight available men to re-
spond to the call. The remainder of
the account of this expedition will be
given nearly in the words of Captain
Bosworth :

"There being a large quantity of
bags of oats at Fort Burton, these
were taken on board the steamer and
were utilized as a breastwork on the
lower deck in the rear of the boat.
The pilot-house was protected by
seven-inch square timber, with port-
holes and sheets of boiler iron. We
were ready to start at half past twelve
o'clock, Sunday morning, Ma\- 24,
and proceeded up the river or bayou,
intending to go as far as Simsport.
Here we expected to disembark and
return to the regiment on the next
boat down river.

"When we arrived at Sim.sport
about dark Sunday night, the place
which had been held by a detach-
ment from Banks's army, we found
to our great disappointment to have
been abandoned on that very day,
the troops having proceeded to join
the main body of the army in the
investment of Port Hudson. The
Rebels who were in the inunediate
vicinity of Simsport, would enter the
]ilace probably by daylight the next
morning. We took in the situation,
and not caring to see the inside of
Rebel prisons, we pursued the only
safe course left lor us, which was to
sta>- on board the steamer that night.

to Comrade Holt, who was with the detachment.

3o6

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

But the next clay she was or-
dered to proceed up the Atchafa-
laya, into the mouth of Red river,
thence down Old river to Bayou
Sara, twelve miles above Port Hud-
son. There was nothing for us to do
except to go with her. A portion of
the main army already had crossed
over and proceeded down to invest
Port Hudson.

' ' The first duty of the commander
of Company G was to report to the
ranking officer in the place, how
many men he had, how he came to
be there, etc. The officer in com-
mand was Colonel Hollabird of Gen-
eral Banks's staff. The first ques-
tion he asked, was this : ' What
kind of men have you ? Will they
get drunk ? ' My answer was prompt :
' As good men as were ever born
and brought up in the old Granite
State. They will neither steal nor
get drunk.' ' You and your men are
just what I want here now. This
is a terrible rebellious place and is
full of Rebel women, who convey all
information possible to our enemies.
The business portion of the town on
the river has been burned, as you
will see. There are dwelling-houses
a little farther back from the river ; go
and select any house you want that
is not occupied. Make your requisi-
tion for rations and I will approve it.
Make your men as comfortable as
you can and I will give you plenty of
work to do, keeping order.'

"The first thing we attended to
was to find a house that was fairly
well supplied with water. We found
one that had two huge cisterns, half
or two thirds full of rain-water, which
came off the house ; they stood be-
tween the main house and the cook-
house. This was a big find for our

boys, for we had not known for weeks
what it was to have a drink of pure
water. Here we made ourselves as
comfortable as we could under the
circumstances. We made our requi-
sitions and drew rations, or what
rations we could draw from the
quartermaster. It must be borne in
mind that the Mississippi was com-
pletely blocked at that time, which
will account for the shortness of our
rations. We drew pork, , coffee,
hardtack, and a few candles.

' ' The quartermaster said : ' If 3'ou
want any beef, get it yourselves.'
We proceeded to do the same to our
entire satisfaction. We then began
to improve the appearance of our
headquarters, by cleaning up the
grounds, straightening the posts and
fences, and leaving the marks of
Yankee thrift and ingenuity, about
our quarters.

"On the evening of the second day,
a squad of twenty-eight Rebel prison-
ers, taken from opposite Port Hudson
on the west side of the river, were sent
to us for safe keeping. One who
appeared to be a leader among them,
bright, smart, and intelligent, said to
me: 'Captain, we are hungry; we
have not had a mouthful to eat since
morning.'

" I replied, ' It is impossible for me
to draw any rations for you to-night,
and all the rations I have are alread,v
issued to my men. The food is
theirs, and no officer can take it
from them, but I will suggest to
them that they lend you of their
rations, enough, at least, for your
supper, and to-morrow I will draw
rations and you may pay them back.'

"I made the suggestion, and to
their credit be it said that every mem-
ber of Company G responded and

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

307

said the}" would divide. They sat
down, prisoners on one side and our
men on the other, and we counted
out our hardtack, measured out our
coffee and a portion of all the food
we had, sufficient to give the Rebs. as
good a supper as we ourselves had.
The next daj' I drew rations for the
prisoners, and they at once paid back
with exactness the food they had
borrowed .

"After keeping these prisoners
under guard several days, we became
weary of performing so much guard
duty, day and night, the prisoners
numbering as many as ourselves, and
besides we had many other duties
assigned us, and therefore we con-
cluded to place our prisoners under
lock and key in a iail at St. Francis-
ville, a mile and a half distant ; and
they quite surprised and disgusted us
by making requisition for ' a nigger '
to cook their rations. They were
told to cook their rations themselves
or eat them raw, just as they pleased,
but they could have ' no nigger ' to
do that service for them.

" While we were at Bayou Sara, we
were visited by a wealthy lady, who
begged us to go out to her plantation
about three miles distant. She said
that it was very humiliating to her to
come to a Northerner for help. Of
course we rendered her all the assist-
ance she needed, and when we left
she urged us, as long as we remained
in that vicinity, to come to her plan-
tation if we needed anything in the
form of food and we* would be wel-
come to anything we desired, and
added ' you must always get the
best,'

" One day, a large transport steam-
er landed a load of contrabands just
out of bondage ; she was literallj-

black with human beings, and we
took them in charge. It will be re-
membered that the land is very flat,
and a little noise can, therefore, be
heard a great way. It being one of
our duties to keep order and ([uiet,
and hearing a good deal of noise and
loud talking, I took Sergeant Jones
with me, and we soon learned that a
prayer-meeting was in progress in
the open air. We found about three
hundred contrabands gathered, hold-
ing a most fervent prayer-meeting
and returning thanks to God that
they had been delivered from bond-
age.

" Knowing that they had a hard
march before them the next day, I
ordered them to keep quiet, lie down,
and rest. Early the next morning
many of them came to us for food.
Thej^ numbered in all about twent}^-
three hundred. I do not believe
there was food enough among them
all to give a comfortable meal to
twenty-five. They were started off
early in the morning for Contraband
camp at Baton Rouge, where they
arrived after a long, hungry, and
wearisome march, escorted by a
squadron of cavalr3^

" In about a week we received or-
ders to pack up and be read}- to .start
for New Orleans, taking the prison-
ers with us. We embarked on the
steamer ('11 ion, where we remained
for several days, waiting orders, there
being several other small steamers
going with us. The water in the
bayous we were to pass through, fell
so rapidly that it was apparent, owing
to this delay, that we could not reach
New Orleans by water. We were,
therefore, ordered to disembark and
proceed to Port Hudson b\' land. A
force of cavalry was sent to protect

3o8

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

the teams and property which we
took with us from Bayou Sara. This
move was made at night, and we
arrived at Port Hudson the following
morning. We reported to Colonel
Hollabird, who immediately took us
to General Banks's headquarters.
We were rigidly questioned, and
ffave General Banks all the informa-
tion possible respecting the people
and their condition, stating among
many other things, that we had not
seen an able-bodied Rebel since we
left Fort Burton, all such being in
the Confederate army.

' ' He ordered us to proceed to
Springfield Landing in the afternoon,
thence by boat to New Orleans. This
we did, and delivered over our pris-
oners to the provost marshal and re-
ported to the commanding officer,
General Emery. This was Saturday
morning ; we remained until Sun-
day, then returned to Springfield
Landing.

" Lieutenant Ballon, who was in com-
mand of the balance of our company,
was to get together the men left be-
hind and to proceed to Springfield
Landing. I was ordered to return
and take command of that post.

" Several of our men, by reason of
remaining at Fort Burton, and be-
ing thoroughly poisoned by malaria,
were sent to the hospital, and quite a
number of them died there. Several
of those who returned from Bayou
Sara, by rea.son of the hardships of
that expedition, were prcstrated with
malarial fever, the commander of the
company being among the number."

The historian already has spoken
of the service that the men of Com-
pany C rendered in carrying impor-

tant despatches between Generals
Banks and Grant. As an illustra-
tion of what this kind of service in-
volved, we insert at this point a re-
port of one of the bearers of des-
patches, who belonged to Captain
Bosworth's company.

"It being necessarj'," says Cap-
tain Bosworth, "that Admiral Far-
ragut should get despatches through
to General Banks, who was then be-
fore Port Hudson, one of his staff
came to us and asked if we had one
or two trusty, energetic, and strictly
reliable young men who could be
trusted to take important despatches
through in the night to Banks's
headquarters. Sergeants Andy Holt
and Charles J. Wright immediately
volunteered for that undertaking."
The following is Sergeant Holt's ac-
count "of carrying these despatches
from Bayou Sara to General Banks's
headquarters in the rear of Port Hud-
son."

"We were on board, the steamer
Union, at the village of Bayou Sara,
when Captain Bosworth asked for
volunteers to go with despatches
from Admiral Farragut to General
Banks's headquarters, about fifteen
miles distant. Sergeant- Major Charles
J. Wright and myself volunteered
for this service. We left Bayou Sara
about nine o'clock p. m., with one
horse, and procured another (in the
ordinary way) at St. Francisville
about one mile from Bayou Sara.

" It was then near ten o'clock p. m.
After a lonely ride, without any par-
ticular or startling adventure, we ap-
proached what proved to be the Un-
ion outpost pickets, and inquired for
headciuarters. These pickets were
unable to give us any information
as to how we could get there ; we,

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

>09

therefore, cautiously felt our way as
best we could, and soon discovered
that we were on the extreme right
of Port Hudson. We found some
Union troops encamped there, and
again made inquiries. An officer of
a New York regiment told us the
only way to reach headquarters was
to go back about three miles and
then take a road which would lead
down to the east part of Port Hud-
son, and that somewhere in that
vicinity were Banks's headquarters.

" Back we started, but while pass-
ing a piece of woods, before we
reached the road, the flash of a gun
and the whistle of a Minie ball near
our heads convinced us that all in
that vicinity were not friends. Put-
ting spurs to our horses, we made
our flight through woods and across
fields until we reached the main road,
where we found some Union pickets.

" We were soon directed to General
Banks's headquarters, reaching there
very early the next morning. With-
out further adventure, we delivered
the despatches to an orderly, who
awoke General Banks. Our horses
were completely exhausted, and so
were we. We spent the remainder
of the night on a pile of oats, and
reported to Adjutant-General Irwin
at sunrise.^

' ' The following day General Mar-
tindale sent a train and a cavalrj'
escort to Bayou Sara, to bring down
Captain Bosworth and all of Com-
pany G who were with him, together
with the prisoners.* On reaching
headquarters, we joined them and
went to New Orleans. I did not
rejoin the regiment again until it
was inside of Port Hudson, as I was
detailed at vSpringfield Landing to do
vidette duty and to carr}- despatches

to General Banks. I made five trips
with important despatches from this
place to his headquarters. About
the twentieth of July I rejoined the

regiment.

Tico Otiicr Expeditions.

There were two expeditions which
in this connection may be mentioned
briefly that we may fulfil to the
letter the requirements enjoined upon
an impartial and faithful historian.
Though in order of time these expe-
ditions should have been given an
earlier place in our history, and
though in magnitude they ma\' not
greatly affect the destiny of nations,
still they really ma>- have amounted
to quite as much as some of the more
famed military exploits of our arnn-
that cost much treasure and mam-
lives.

The first of these expeditions took
place in February and the second in
March, 1863. We give the account
of each in nearly the words emplo}-ed
by an army correspondent, Comrade
R. W. Allen, who was one of the
heroic survivors in these undertak-
ings.

According to Comrade Allen's
story, it was about the middle of Feb-
ruary that orders were received to
march two or three companies of the
Sixteenth regiment on board the
steamer Sally List. The orders, as
might be expected, were unhesitat-
ingly obeyed, and the troops were
landed at Plaquamine, which was be-
tween Donaldsonville and Baton
Rouge, a little nearer the latter place.
The object was to subjugate that part
of the countr\- and open the bayou
bearing the same name. The troops
engaged with ours were the Thirty-
cighlli Massachusetts, One Hundred

3IO

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

and Eighth New York, Fifteenth
New Hampshire, and a Rhode Island
battery. Not finding the enemy in
force and being bent on serving the
country in some way, these troops
' ' borrowed all the molasses they
could ' ' and the movement was con-
verted into what was known as ' ' the
molasses candy expedition." "Al-
though it rained just as it did in the
days of Noah, only a little harder,"
says our comrade, "yet over every
camp-fire was a kettle of molasses,
and soon the boys were busily en-
gaged, doing three things at once,
swearing, pulling cand\', and trying
to pull their brogans out of the
Southern soil, which was knee-deep
in spots."

Within a day or two " the object of
the expedition was accomplished,"
and the victorious troops returned to
their several regiments.

The second expedition of the class
now under consideration was under-
taken a month later. For the facts
we depend, as in the former instance,
upon our Comrade Allen, whose
.statements are substantially the fol-
lowing:

"Two detachments, one from the
Fifteenth and the other from the
Sixteenth New Hampshire regiments,
were detailed on board a sniall .stern-
wheeled steamer to go up rather a
swift - flowing .stream, which empties
into Lake Pontchartrain some sev-
en miles from our camp at the
Parapet, to capture some Confed-

erate commissary stores that Avere
thought to be there. We made
little progress, as our boat was ill
adapted to stem a stream having any
noticeable current. We puffed and
crawled along at a snail-like pace,
hugging well all the time the shore.
Night came on ; the weather was
mi.sty and the night dark. We ran
out of wood and went ashore for
a supply. Having loaded up, we
cast off and swung into the .stream.

"After some hours of steaming, we
ran .short of wood the second time,
and seeing a light on .shore, hailed
it and asked if we could get wood
there. The reply being in the affir-
mative, we landed and renewed our
.stock. Again we cast off and went
on our way. Towards morning, but
while it was still dark, we were again
in need of fuel and hailed another
light, in order to get a supply. ' Can
we get wood here?' we asked, 'and
what is your price per cord?' The
owner replied, ' I guess }'OU can
have it at $3 bein' as you fellers have
got wood here twice before to-night.'

" The fact was we had not been over
half a mile from that wood pile all
night long.

" When it was light enough to make
obser\-ations, it was apparent that our
vessel could not make any progress ;
we therefore turned and went back to
the point from which we had started
the afternoon before, and ' the ob-
ject of the expedition was accom-
plished.' "

Note. — Tlie author desires sugge.stions or corrections from any comrade of the Sixteenth or any other regiment.

\To I'C cotithiHcd.\

THE NEW ENGLAND MAYFLOWER.

EPIG^A REPEXS.
By Adelaide George Bennett.

As wheu in dusty tomes of ancient lore,

Turning perchance the yellowed pages, we,
'Mid dry, insensate facts, the sweet face see

Of some fair Pilgrim maid in garb she wore

In those quaint, reminiscent days of yore.
So, searching carefully on bended knee,
'Neath some old forest's deepening debris.

We find this memory-sainted flower once more.
How like the sense of all we hold most dear,

Comes the sweet perfume stealing unaware

That since the Mayflower stanch dropped anchor here,

These namesake blooms no rival preference share
Within that shrine where 'neath life's herbage sere,

Blossom the buds the heart has hidden there.

REPRESENTATIVE AGRICULTURISTS.

By H. H. Metcalf.

NOAH FARR, LITTLETON.

on the meadow in 1769, and the first
permanent settler, Nathan Caswell,

One of the best farms in the thriv- coming here with his family in the

ing town of Littleton, which, although following spring. In this log barn,

better known as a summer boarding the night after their arrival, April 11,

resort and mountain-travel centre, Mrs. Caswell gave birth to a son, the

also ranks among the leading agri- first white child born in town,

cultural towns of, the state, is owned Mr. F'arr is a native of Littleton, a

and occupied by Noah Farr. This son of Oilman and Philena (Allen)

was formerly known as the Timothy Farr, born December 10, 1836, on

Gile place, and is located on the x\m- what is known as " Farr hill." He

nionoosuc river, a mile or more below received his education in the town

the village. It was on this farm that schools, and when eighteen years of

the first settlement was made within age, his father having purchased this

the town limits, a party of temporary farm, he removed with him hither,

settlers having built a rude log barn where he has since had his home,

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REPRESENTA TI VE A GRICUL TURIS TS.

313

pursuing the farmer's calling, in
which he has taken much interest
and been quite successful. He
worked for his father until thirty
years of age, and then, in company
with a brother-in-law, — B. F. Lane,
now of Whitefield, — purchased the
farm. Two 3'ears later, he bought
Mr. Lane's interest, and has since
been proprietor.

The farm at present embraces 225
acres, of which 50 is in mowing and
tillage, most of this being Ammonoo-
suc River meadow, of great fertility,
six tons of hay having been cut in
one season on a single acre, in two
cuttings.

Dairying is Mr. Farr's specialt}^
comparative!}^ little land being de-
voted to tillage. He was for a time
engaged in retailing milk in the vil-
lage, when he kept as many as thirt}"
cows. At present he is selling cream
to the White Mountain creamery,
and has reduced his number of cows.
He keeps half a dozen horses, and
for the past few 3'ears has had a num-
ber of summer boarders. His build-
ings are in first-class condition, a new
barn — go by 47 feet, with cellar un-
der the whole, without a post, it being
supported by iron rods — having been
built in 1877. House, stable, and
basement ^re all supplied with pure,
running water. There is also a shop,
which contains the best equipment
of mechanical tools possessed by an}^
farmer in the state, in which Mr.
Farr spends much time both pleas-
antly and profitably: The buildings,
as a whole, are generall}' regarded as
the best set of farm buildings in the
county. Mr. Farr is an admirer of
Holstein stock, and was the first man
to introduce this favorite milk-pro-
ducing breed into Littleton, procur-

ing a fine blooded bull of 2,000
pounds weight, some j-ears since,
through which the stock of the
neighborhood was greatly improved.
Mr. Farr married, first, Mary B.
Griggs, of Littleton, in December,
1868, who died in Ma}^ 1870. Oc-
tober 10, 1 87 1, he was united with
Sarah, daughter of Jerediah Farmer,
of Bethlehem. They have two sons,
Arthur N. and Albert L., the former
living at West Milan, and the latter

Noah Farr.

at home. Mr. Farr was a charter
member and first steward of White
Mountain grange, and has ser\'ed as
overseer and treasurer ; also as treas-
urer of Northern New Hampshire
Pomona grange. He has al.so been
treasurer of the town school district.
He is a Republican and a Congrega-
tionalist, and has been several years
librarian of the Sundaj'-school.

AI.OXZO W. GIBSOX, RTXDGE.

Alonzo W. Gibson is of the eighth
generation of the descendants of John
Gibson, who came to America in

314

REPRESENTA TI VE A GRICUL TURIS TS.

1639. Born in Salem, Mass., Sep-
tember 23, 1852, when two years of
age his parents, John A. and Mary
(Davis) Gibson, moved to Rindge,
N, H., which has since been his
home. At the age of fourteen 3'ears
he vStarted out to make his own way
in the world, being employed by
farmers through the summer, and
working for his board and schooling
winters, until manhood, attending
the district schools and one term at

Alonzo W. Gibson.

an academy. Called home by his
father's failing health, he assumed
charge of the family, tenderly caring
for his father during the remainder of
his life, as he was also the support
and dependence of his mother and
younger brother and sisters. After
his father's death he purchased the
home farm. Sub.sequently an adjoin-
ing farm was added, making one
hundred and fifty acres in all, of
which thirty is mowing, the balance
pasture and woodland. His specialty
is dairying, forty pounds of gilt-
edged butter being produced weekly.

which he delivers to private cus-
tomers in Winchendon, Mass., who
also furnish a market for eggs, milk,
cream, vegetables, and all farm prod-
ucts. Though not large, the farm is
a productive one, and is run on the
intensive plan, Mr. Gibson doing
most of the work himself with the
best attainable machinery, the addi-
tional labor required being hired by
the day. No farmer in the region is
better supplied with machinery, some
of which, being quite a mechanic, he
has manufactured himself. He has
just added to his equipment a build-
ing containing blacksmith and car-
penter shops, and mill with a six
horse-power Baxter engine and saw
for cutting wood, of which he has a
large amount and which finds a
ready market. The pleasant home,
an engraving of which is here given,
is largely the work of his own hands,
he having thoroughly remodeled the
same about the time of his marriage,
January 19, 1887, with Mrs. Idella
(Converse) Norcross, daughter of
Zebulon and Ann (Mixer) Converse
of Rindge.

At the time of her marriage with
Mr. Gibson, Mrs. Norcross, who
came of a family long prominent in
this region, had a little son, eight
years of age, to whom Mr. Gibson
has been a most indulgent father.
This son, Arthur Z. Norcross, is now
a student in the state college at Dur-
ham, class of '99. One daughter,
Florence Idella, now five years of
age, has been born to Mr. and Mrs.
Gibson.

"Meadow View Farm," as the
Gibson place is known, is situated on
a hill overlooking the Converse reser-
voir, or meadow, and some of the
finest views in the beautiful hill town

REPRESEN TA TI VE A GRIC UL TURIS TS.

315

Residence of A. W. Gibson, Rindge.

of Rindge are obtained from different
points on the place, making it a most
delightful residence.

Mr. Gibson is a thorough believer
in the principle of doing business on
the cash basis, "owing no man any-
thing." He is also a strict temper-
ance man, using neither spirituous
liquor nor tobacco in any form. As
an earnest temperance worker, he has
done all in his power to aid in en-
forcing the prohibitory laws in the
town of Rindge. He is a member
of the Congregational church and
Sunday-school, and an active mem-
ber of the Christian Endeavor socie-
ty, of which he has been president.
Politically, he is a Republican, but
has never sought public office at

the hands of his party or townsmen.
He is an enthusiastic Patron of
Husbandry, and his voice is often
heard in the discussions at the meet-
ings of Cheshire County Pomona
grange, of which he is a member.
Both he and Mrs. Gibson were char-
ter members of Marshall P. Wilder
grange, No. 134, and both have
worked long and faithfully to pro-
mote its prosperity. Mr. Gibson has
served as steward, overseer, lecturer,
and master, and Mrs. Gibson has
been chaplain, lecturer, and master,
being the first lady master in Cheshire
county. Both received the seventh
degree of the order at the meeting of
the National grange in Concord, in
November, 1S92.

#^,*#m#J#*#1^

^^'^^%^^^^^"'i #

A hlhY.

LUKE 12:27.
By Augusta C. Seavey.

The lily opes its golden heart to-day,
A splendid calyx on a stateh' stem,
More worth}- worship than some flashing gem.

Roses, dear heart, sure never held such sway

O'er thee and me as lilies hold alway.

Another loved them, — Christ of Bethlehem
Bade his disciples to " consider" them, —

For e'en the king wore not such brave array.

Dear heart, in other daN'S within our home
Oped other lilies glorious to see.

Why does this blossom seem less fair than they ?
Ah ! one who watched it bud sees not its bloom.
Since thou art far away, in vain, for me.
The lily opes its golden heart to-day !

POLICY TUCKER.

By Annie y. Conwell.
CHAPTER Xn.

:-IERE, Madam Sher-
burne, you see the
result of holding your
|rk^>^>^ ] husband up to ridi-
cule when that pet
lamb of yours is present," said the
Major, in pretended reproach ; then
to Alfred, "I shall remember that
remark of yours, young man, and
you '11 be sorrj^ yet that you ever
made it."

"I presume so; I'm sorry now
that you can't dance any better, and
sorry for poor Polly, too. But you

mustn't feel so badly about it, sir.
Other great men besides 3'ourself
have been poor dancers," said Al-
fred cheerfully.

"'Poor Polly' don't need any of
3^our sympathy, nor I either," growled
the Major. "Do you wonder that I
am a blighted being, Miss Polly,
when my own household are ray
persecutors ? ' '

"Never mind," I said soothingly,
"come to our next husking, and I
will dance with 3'ou till you are
tired, and when the}' see how well

POLLY TUCKER.

we keep step, they will realize how
they have misjudged you."

Dinner over, we returned to the
drawing-room, and Madam S., Al-
fred, and I were preparing to visit
the church, when some friends of
Madam S.'s arrived from a town
across the river, and detained her;
so she told Alfred to go on with me,
and to be sure and explain every-
thing to me, just as she would.

" That sounds simple," said Alfred
in an aside to me, "but you know
Aunt's capacity for explaining." "I'll
do mj^ best," he answered her aloud,
as we left the house together.

The new church is just above
Major S.'s house, on the brow of
the hill and overlooking the broad,
impetuous river, — a beautiful situa-
tion for a beautiful edifice. It is
very large and handsomely decorated
inside with what Alfred tells me is
frescoing. After looking at the church
as long as I cared to, Alfred showed
me the furnishings ; first of all, the
chairs which Queen Caroline sent for
Queen's chapel — the predecessor of
this church, and which was named
for her. They are very handsome ;
the square backs are divided into
several sections, each of which is
elaborately carved in a pattern of
oak leaves.- The Bible, communion
service and christening bowl of silver,
each piece bearing the roj^al arms,
were also her gifts.

"Sit down, Polly," said Alfred, as
he explained all this to me ; and he
seated himself in one of the chairs,
while I, half astonished at my own
boldness, took the other. "Well!"
said he, "I don't think Her Majesty
is a very good judge of a comfortable
chair, if this one is a sample of what
she can do in that line ; I reallv think

I could do better myself." Presently
he showed me the marble baptismal
font, and told me that it is supposed
to have been an African relic, as
it was brought from Senegal by Col-
onel Mason, more than fifty years
ago, and was presented to Queen's
Chapel by his daughters. The font,
plate, chairs, and Bible were rescued
when Queen's Chapel was burned
three years ago, by a friend of
Uncle's rushing into the burning
building and dragging them out.
' ' So they have an added interest for
us," said Alfred.

Then we went up into the gallery
to see the organ, and as I never saw
one before I was full of curiosity
about it and wished, — oh, so much !
— that I might hear it plaj^ed, for it
seemed impossible to get music out of
such a clumsy-looking instrument, so
Alfred tried to open it but it was
locked. It is a great mahogany box
almost as high as the church wall
from above the gallery floor to the
ceiling, but narrow in proportion ;
the great gilt pipes are of graduated
heights, the highest in the centre,
and reach to the top of the organ.
On the floor of, and extending under,
the instrument are great slats which
the player presses with his feet, Al-
fred saj'S, as he sits perched on the
high bench in front of the organ.
He tells me the keys are like those of
a spinet, onh^ there are two rows, —
banks, he called them, — besides stops
on each side.

" What a wonderful thing! " I ex-
claimed. " I suppose in years to
come we .shall hear of inventions that
will surprise us, but I really think
there can be nothing more astonish-
ing than this ! ' '

" I 'm sorr}' that you can't hear it

3i8

POLLY TUCKER.

played," said Alfred. "You might
if 3^011 can only go to church with us
some Sunday, — don't you think your
mother would let you ? Aunt would
be delighted to take 3'ou — and you
know nothing would give me greater
pleasure," he added in a tone that
brought a blush of happiness to my
face.

' ' I should like to come but I know
it is useless to expect to, for Mother
wouldn't be willing," I said sadly;
and for a moment I felt as if Mother
is just a little bit more strict in her
ideas of propriety than she need to be.

After leaving the church, we stopped
on the very top of the hill to get the
river view. The scenery was beau-
tiful, but the river was so broad and
swift and looked so resistless in its
strength, that it seemed to me like a
greedy monster pursuing its prey.

" It makes me dizzy," I said, turn-
ing my head away.

"Then you probably would n't like
to take the ride that a young man of
this town once did, as I 've heard
Uncle say," said Alfred. "It was
in winter and he was driving fast
round this hill when, just about
where w^e stand, the horse lost his
footing and away he rolled down into
the river, dragging the sleigh and its
occupant after him. The Whole es-
tablishment was fished up right
away, none the worse for its unex-
pected dip into the river. But the
3^oung man didn't come up here to
church after that, — he went to the
North church, because he liked the
location of it better."

"I don't blame him. It is a dan-
gerous place and I don't feel safe
here even now," I said shudderingly.
" Don't you think w^e had better go
along ? "

"Whenever you are ready," re-
plied A., laughing at my panic. So
we went on to see the house where
Washington, Lafayette, John Han-
cock, and others whose names are
dear to Americans, have been enter-
tained while visiting this favored
town, and Alfred told me many
interesting anecdotes of the house
and neighborhood. On our w^ay
back to Major S.'s, we passed an old
building which Alfred said used to
be a museum when he was a boy.
The proprietor was a jolly little man
whom all the boys in town delighted
to visit and hear talk.

" He used to take great pleasure,"
said Alfred, "in telling us about his
courtship, and we were never tired of
hearing of it. He said he had long
admired a young lady of his acquain-
tance, and one Sunday when the}^
happened to sit together in her
father\s .pew in Queen's Chapel, he
marked in the Bible which he handed
to her, in the first verse of the second
epistle of St. John, — ' Unto the elect
lady,' — and then the entire fifth
verse : 'And now I beseech thee, lady,
not as though I wrote a new com-
mandment unto thee, but that which
we had from the beginning, that we
love one another. ' ' The elect lad}^ '
understood the appeal and imme-
diately turned down the leaf at the
first chapter of Ruth and marked the
sixteenth verse : ' Whither thou goest
I will go,' etc., and passed the Bible
back to her happy suitor."

"That was certainly an original
way of making known his wishes," I
replied, "and a most satisfactory one
in this ca.se, it seems."

" Yes, that did very well, but there
are other ways, — counting apple-
seeds, for instance," said that irre-

POLLY TUCKER.

319

pressible Alfred with a sly look at
my downcast face. When we arrived
at Major Sherburne's, we found it
was rather later than we thought,
and Madam S. had ordered an early
tea on account of my having so far
to ride before dark. I gave a full
account of my afternoon, and the tea-
time, with its bright conversation and
kindly spirit, was no less delightful
than every other hour of that happy
day had been. As soon as we arose
from the table, I had to prepare to go
home. .-

The horse and chaise had been
brought to the door and the good-
bys had been said when Major S.
suddenly slapped his pocket and
exclaimed, " Where 's my snuff-box?
Have 5'ou seen it. Wife? " She said,
"No, never mind it now," and kept
on with a message which she was
giving me for Mother. "Alfred!"
called the Major, and Alfred came to
him from the foot of the steps wdiere
he was waiting for me. "Just run
up stairs to my room, will you, and
see if I did not leave my snuff-box
on the table ? It may be there or on
the mantelpiece, for I remember that
I had it up there this afternoon."
"All right, sir, I'll find it," said
Alfred, goed-naturedly running up
stairs, while I took my place in the
chaise. No sooner was I seated than
the Major caught his hat from the
antlers close by, and springing into
the chaise with unexpected lightness,
said to Madam Sherburne, " Tell Al-
fred he need n't look for my box, for I
do believe it was in my pocket all the
time ; and just tell him, besides, that
I can dance and that I can make him
dance, too," and laughing heartily at
his practical joke, off he drove. I
was disappointed for a moment, but

the joke was too good, so I soon
joined the Major in his laugh and we
had a lovely drive home. When we
got there, Major S. stopped onl}- just
long enough to tell Father and
Mother about the trick which he had
plaj'ed on Alfred, and then drove off
chuckling, — but not before Father
had invited him to our next husking.
Alfred came down the next day and
was half indignant and half amused
at the march which his uncle had
stolen upon him.

" I might have known that he was
up to some mischief after the warn-
ing that he gave me at table," he
said, and he couldn't help laughing,
vexed as he was. " Don't you see,
Polly," he continued, " how much
better it would be to be frank about
our engagement? Then yo\x could
visit us freely and we could go about
together without question. As it is,
w^e are to have company at the house
all summer, and I can't get away
from them half as often as I would
like to come here without its being
noticed and placing you in an un-
pleasant position, and then before
very many weeks I shall have to go
back to New York. Don't you think
your mother would relent if I went to
her and told her all this?" But I
knew Mother never decides hastily,
and once decided, there is no use in
asking her to change her mind, so I
had to tell Alfred that there was no
appeal from what she had said, and
he went off, feeling as if he had been
wounded in the house of his friends.
I was sorry for him, but powerless to
help him.

Sept. 3.

I should like to tell you of other
pleasant happenings of the summer,
but if I neglect to set them down at

;20

POLLY TUCKER.

the time, there seems to be but httle
to write about them afterwards. The
day which I spent at Riverside was
the da)- of this summer — and of every
previous one, to me. Alfred went
back to New York last week. He
came here as often as he could, but
as he told me there would be, from
the da}' of my visit at Riverside
until he went away, there was a
constant succession of guests at his
aunt's, to whom he had to be atten-
tive, and that kept him away from
here.

He frequently drove by the house
with a carriage full of fashionably-
dressed people, and he always looked
and looked at every window until he
was past the house, — but I seldom
gave him a chance to bow, as the
vine which shades the window where
I usually sit in the afternoon, screens
me completely, so I could see with-
out being seen. Mother doesn't
seem to be as well as usual, and in
consequence I have had much of her
work to do besides my own this
summer. Sometimes when Alfred
drove by, looking so bright and
happy, the wish would arise that I
could go, too ; but of course under the
circumstances it would not do for us
to go about together, and under any
circumstances I could not be away
from Mother much, so things are
better just as Mother planned them.
Poor Mother seems to have no
strength and she coughs a good deal ;
still .she will not consent to see Dr.
Pierpont, as we want her to, but
seems to think that when the hot
summer is over she will feel stronger.
I hope she will, but she looks so frail
and delicate that I am afraid to fully
trust her prediction. What if she
should not ?

Oct. 17.

Mother is no better, though cool
days are numerous, and some days
she cannot sit up all day. I have
had all the indoor fall work to see to,
and have little time or inclination for
writing. Even my letters to Alfred
have to wait till I can attend to them,
and he waits to hear from me before
writing again, so I do not hear from
him as often as I did. I know he is
all right at heart, but I don't think
men realize how much women depend
upon words of kindness when they
are anxious and overworked.

There is another thought that
haunts me and adds to my uneasi-
ness. It is the same feeling that I
experienced when the eyes of that
portrait made me so uncomfortable at
Madam Sherburne's party. What
right have I to aspire to Alfred's
position when I am not fitted for it
by nature or acquirement, and all my
associations have been so entirely
different from his? I do not turn to
him in my trouble, — now that sadness
and anxiety overshadow our house-
hold I do not long for his presence,
for I know that he would be quite
out of place here, and I have the feel-
ing that he must not be troubled, no
matter what I may suffer for want of
his support and sympathy in this, my
hour of distress and grief.

My reason tells me that the union
of two lives so dissimilar in aim and
surroundings as ours are, cannot re-
sult in happiness for either, and I
wonder if Mother, with her keen in-
sight into character, foresaw this last
March ? But he is the poetry of my
life, and my heart has grown fast to
his and aches unspeakably at the
thought, onl}', of being separated
from him. Perhaps I am morbid. I

I III-: BROWX THRUSH. X2\

know I am tired and very anxious, — and that is the last thing that I would

so likely enough I am borrowing do, — so I come to you. In all the

trouble. But it is a relief to put this world you are my one refuge at this

thought into language, and even if time, my diary, and now that I have

Mother were well I couldn't tell her told my little worry to you, I think I

this, for it seems like doubting Alfred, may feel better.

\To be contiinied.\

THE BROWN THRUSH.

By Ray Lauraiice.

On the edge of a pond
Where the blue iris grows,
Near white water lilies
Just tinted wdth rose,
Is a long stretch of woods
With a path winding down,
'T is the haunt of the minstrel,
The thrush, rusty brown.

When the first flush of dawn
Tints the east with pale red,
The brown, wild wood minstrel
Then lifts up his head,
And a flood of sweet music, —
A bird song of prayer, —
I^ike a censer of incense
Is poured on the air.

When the shadows are length' ning
And the day fades from sight,
The minstrel is chanting
A hymn to the night.
As the fires of the sunset
Burn low o'er the hill.
His vesper song echoes
Through green forest still.

Brown thrush, sweetest minstrel
Of wild w^oodland birds.
Singing herald of daylight,
Thy songs without words
Poured forth on the morning
And evening tide there
Are the dewdrops of music,
A bird song of prayer !

Conducted by Fred G owing. State Siiperintetideiit of Public Instruction.

THE SUMMER'S OPPORTUNITIES.

The teachers and friends of educa-
tion in New Hampshire are to have
unusual opportunities the coming sum-
mer for attending educational assem-
blies.

It is generally conceded that the sal-
aries paid to rural school teachers will
not allow many extras in the way of the
summer school and institutes, but
when such rich programmes are offered
them free by the state, should they not
use every possible effort to be present
at one or more weeks of the state sum-
mer school ? A teacher can not afford
to absent herself, if she hopes to rise in
her profession.

The fifth session of the summer in-
stitute will be held at Durham in the
buildings of the New Hampshire Col-
lege of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts
from August 7 to August 28. Hereto-
fore the sessions have been held at Ply-
mouth. It has been determined that
another section of the state shall be
benefited, and the president and faculty
of the college having extended a cordial
invitation to the Superintendent of Pub-
lic Instruction to hold the school in
Durham, the invitation has been

gladly accepted. In previous years the
institute has been of two weeks' dura-
tion. This year it will be three. The
Summer School of Science, conducted
by the Agricultural College, will hold its
sessions during these three weeks, and
teachers may thereby derive benefit
from the two courses. The strongest
lecturers on methods of instruction have
been engaged by the department of
public instruction, and it is intended
that the programme shall be as rich,
varied, and beneficial as heretofore.

The rural school teachers will have,
as last year, a series of lectures. Teach-
ers from the city schools will be in-
spired and helped by their close con-
tact with the best educators in the
country.

Durham offers many attractions to
the teachers, and several excursions
will be taken to the various points of
historic interest in that vicinity. One
day will be passed at the Isles of Shoals.

To teachers who can afford to take
the trip (and there are many in the
state), the announcement of the Ameri-
can Institute of Instruction at Montreal
will prove most attractive. Never be-

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROEOGY.

323

fore have the teachers of New England
been gh^en an opportunity of visiting
Canada and its many points of interest
at so Httle expense. The speakers are
prominent educators of the United
States and Canada. The Canadian
minister of education, our own Com-
missioner Harris, and the Hon. Henry
Barnard of Connecticut will honor the
occasion.

There are few places on this conti-
nent to which a visit may be made,
giving so many novel and instructive
experiences as Montreal, while at an ex-

pense of three dollars more a trip may
be made to Quebec, " a small bit of
mediaeval Europe perched on a rock
and dried for keeping, a curiosity that
has not its equal on this side the
ocean." This entire trip may be made,
hotel expenses, fares, etc., included, for
a little over twenty dollars.

The great National Educational asso-
ciation meets at Milwaukee this season,
July 69. It is not expected that New
Hampshire will be largely represented
— at the same time it is probable that
some few teachers may be present.

WILLIAM S. STEVENS.

William S. Stevens was born in Canterbury 80 years ago, and died in Dover,
April 15. He was engaged in the manufacture of glue and of sandpaper in Dover
for fifty years. He was mayor of that city from 1870 to 1872, and for several
years a member of the school-board. He was a member of the legislature in
i855-'56 and i872-'73; was for many years a director of the Boston iV' Maine
railroad, and at the time of his death was president of the Strafford National bank.

DR. JONATHAN S. CURTIS.

Dr. Jonathan S. Curtis was born in Epsom, June 11, 1821, and died at Hart-
ford, Conn., March 31. He was graduated from the Dartmouth Medical college and
the New York Uniyersity of Medicine, and practised in Abington and Eawrence,
Mass., California, and Hartford, Conn., having been a resident of the last named
city since 1852. He 'served in the late war as surgeon of a Connecticut regiment.

CHARLES MORRILL.

Charles Morrill, a native of Hanover, died in New York city, April 5, at the
age of 69 years. He had been a resident of that city since he was eighteen, and
had built up an extensive business in the manufacture of hardware specialties of
his own invention. He was also a successful architect.

324 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

GEORGE R. FOWLER.

Judge George R. Fowler died in Philadelphia, April ii. He was born in Con-
cord, April 25, 1844, and was graduated at the Albany, N. Y., law school, being ad-
mitted to the Merrimack county bar in November, 1866. He served two years as
assistant clerk of the New Hampshire state senate, and the same length of time
as clerk. He began the practice of law in Boston in 1870, and continued it most
successfully. In 1S74, he was appointed one of the justices of the West Roxbury
district court, a position which he held at the time of his death. His specialty
was mercantile law, but he was also very prominent in railroad matters. For four
years he was a member of the Republican state central committee of Massachu-
setts.

DR. GEORGE 1!. TWirCHELL.

Dr. George B. Twitchell, a native of Petersburg, Va., died at Keene, March 30,
at the age of 76 years and 6 months. He was educated at the University of Penn-
sylvania, and had practised his profession at Keene since 1843. ^^ served as
regimental and brigade surgeon in the war, and in March, 1863, was commis-
sioned as surgeon-in-chief of the Sixth and Seventh divisions of the Seventeenth
army corps. At the time of his death he was president of the board of trustees of
the New Hampshire Asylum for the Insane. He had been largely instrumental
in securing for the city of Keene its present excellent systems of sewerage and
water-supply and its public library.

AZRO B. SKINNER.

Azro B. Skinner was born in Westmoreland, February 14, 1839, ^"*^' ^\^^ at
Winchendon, Mass., April 3. He began life as a school teacher, but since 1865
had been engaged in business at Keene. At the time of his death he was the
proprietor of the largest general store in that city.

WILLIAM JACKSON.

William Jackson was born at Melford, Ireland, February 3, 1807, and died at
Littleton, March 29. From 1831, for nearly forty years he was engaged in the
manufacture of woolens at Barnet, Vt., and at Littleton. He was a Democrat in
politics, a Scotch Presbyterian in religion, and stanch in his adherence to both.

HENRY F. SANBORN.

Hon. Henry F. Sanborn was born in Fpsom, February 26, 1819, and died in

Princeton, Mass., March 26. He resided in his native town until 1882, and served

it as selectman and representative. He was also twice a member of the state

senate. During his residence at Princeton he was repeatedly chosen a member of

the school-board, and was treasurer of the trustees of the Goodnow Memorial

building.

JOHN FOSTER.

John Foster was born in Hudson, December 30, 18 17, and died in Boston,
April 9. He was in the grocery business in that city from 1836 to 1872, and
amassed a fortune, which he invested in real estate. He gave generously to the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and also remembered the towns of Hud-
son and Warner with benefactions.

^ *-/"»' ^^

,_^^,cf;|*^^,^

. V'

TiiH Old Nokth Church.

Erected, 1842. Burned, June 29, 1873.

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXH.

JUNE, 1897.

No. 6.

"THE OLD NORTH END.

CONCORD.

By Frank West Rollins.

HERE is always a pleas-
ure mingled with sad-
ness in retrospect. A
glamour of more or less
rosy tinge envelopes the
past, and places and incidents stand
out sharpl}^ defined against the hazj^
background of the half forgotten.
We love the haunts and scenes of
our childhood ; they draw us with
resistless force ; we revisit them with
sweet pleasure tinged with the bitter
realization that the springs of youth
are drying up, that age is staring us
in the face, -and that "the hereafter"
lies across our path, an unknown and
undiscovered country in which each
must be a pioneer.

' ' The Old North End ! ' ' There is
music in the very name, a conserva-
tism, a sound of strength, a restful-
ness, a peacefulness, nt least, to me.
Is it my imagination ?

There it is, unchanged, and yet so
changed. The same broad streets,
the same old trees (a few missing),
the same old houses. Other parts of
the city have grown, have expanded ;

new streets have shot out, like young
twigs on a hardy willow ; ornate mod-
ern houses, with towers, cupolas, fan-
cy piazzas, and all that the latter-day
architect can devise to hide the lines
of grace and beauty, have sprung up;
great brick blocks line the business
streets ; public buildings, both costly
and architecturally good, adorn the
central portion ; but the ' ' Old North
End" goes peacefully on, undisturbed
by the march of time, and regardless
of the pushings and elbowings of the
ambitious present.

The centre of the city is for busi-
ness, for traffic, with its brick and
mortar, its noisy pavements, its push
and bustle ; the South End was the
necessary pushing out of the city as
it grew in size ; while the West End
represents the im^\ the spirit of the
times, the fin de siecle. But, when
you cross a certain street above the
business centre, you come into the
peacefulness and quiet of ' ' The Old
North End," undisturbed by trade,
unmoved by modernism, stretching
its roots deep into the past, 3-es, even

326

''7 HE OLD NORTH END.

to the very beginning, and permanent
and steadfast as her grand old elms,
which rear their loft}^ branches into
the infinite, — emblems of constanc)'
and strength. Perhaps the best way
to describe it would be to call it the
place of homes, and what dearer word
is there than that word, home?

I wish to speak of it as I remem-
it when a boy, — not so very long ago,
yet a quarter of a century is quite a
period, — and while few changes have
taken place in its outward appear-
ance, in its personnel, how changed !

At the time of which I speak, the
arch of great elms extended south as
far as Chapel street, and there was a
row of magnificent trees on the east
side even as far south as Pitman
street. In front of the old Morrill
house, now gone, a row of Ivombardy
poplars stood, like a file of prim and
erect sentinels, against the sky. No
one knows exactly the reason of the
death of all the trees on this side of
the street, but they went, one by one,
and people generally laid the blame
at the door of the gas company.

When all these trees were living,
the view, as you came up the street,
through this long, overarching ave-
nue of green foliage was extremely
beautiful, particularly at sunset, when
the glow of the western sky showed
through the opening at the north. If
people knew the benefit to a city, and
the perpetual delight to its people
of fine trees, they would take more
pains in planting and rearing them.
IvCt us be as thoughtful and far-see-
iog for those who are to come after
us as our forefathers were for their
descendants.

' ' The Old North End ' ' is bounded
on the east by Fort Eddy, on the
north by Horse Shoe pond, and on

the west by a range of wooded hills,
— all points of interest to me as a
boy. A large part of my childhood
was spent in and on (more in than
on) the waters of Horse Shoe pond.
It was a somewhat larger sheet of
water than it is now, part of it hav-
ing been drained off. I always kept
a boat or a canoe at what was called
"the swimming hole," at the lower
end near the ice-house, and early
morning usually found me cruising
after pond lilies, or wading for cat-
o-nine-tails among the intricate pas-
sages which intersected the northern
end of the pond. We had all sorts
of secret ways, hidden brush-covered
tunnels, and snug hiding-places in
this haunt of the blackbird, bobolink,
and blue jay. Birds' eggs, too, were
plentiful there, and it was a perfect
paradise for a small boy. On a bit
of firm ground in the midst of this
waste of -water and bushes we had a
wigwam, fully equipped with all the
implements of wild life and the chase.
And those soft, warm waters on a
hot July day ! How they cooled and
refreshed one as he plunged and frol-
icked about, as perfectly at home as
a sea-urchin in his native element.
We used to spend hours and hours,
either in the water or lying in the
hot sand, in a state of nature. We
begrudged the hours we had to spend
in school when it was in session, and
no sooner had the bell clanged our
welcome release, than we raced with
the speed of young colts towards the
pond, and by the time we had reached
Hon. Joseph B. Walker's house, we
had divested ourselves of every stitch
of clothing as we ran, and plunging
down the steep bank, dropped our
clothes at the water's edge, and with
a yell of delight, disappeared in the

''THE OLD NORTH ENDr 327

soft waters of the swimming hole, careful attention in the fall. We also
Those were halcyon days! One of helped Hon. Joseph B. Walker gath-
our favorite amusements in the water er his nuts on the trees on Walker's
was to take a flat-bottomed boat and island and along the Wattanummon.
turn it upside down, then raise it and We were a cheerful and helpful lot.
drop it gently and evenly on the I don't know whether Fort Eddy
water so as to retain the air under it, is the mine of delight to the boys of
when it would float upon its edges, to-day that it was to us, but certainl}'
leaving a large space full of air some of the happiest of my boyhood
underneath. Then we would dive days were passed there. To begin
and come up under the boat, keeping with, we looked upon it with awe, as
our heads in the air space, and, there was a tradition among us that
grasping the boat, push it all about it had been the scene of a great In-
the pond, in a manner most myste- dian battle, and we thought we dis-
rious to those not in the secret. The covered the partl3^-effaced lines of
great test of swimming ability was to earthworks and were always digging,
swim up to the point opposite Foster- in hopes of finding relics of the bat-
ville and back. I remember John B. tie. Every peculiarly .shaped stone
Abbott was the champion in my time, we came across was a battle-axe
By pulling our boat on rollers head, an arrow-head, or something of
under the railroad arch, we could the kind. Then, too, the peculiar
enter the lower pond, and this opened shape of the peninsular rendered it
new fields of possibilities to us. Pass- particularly well fitted for defense,
ing under the bridge which leads to and it was the scene of many a
Walker's island,- skirting along by pitched battle between " our crowd "
the tannery, we came to an artificial and "the others." There was good
canal, just wide enough for our boat fishing in " the Eddy," and occasion-
to squeeze through between the low, ally game along the river, and it was
marshy shores. By dint of pushing, remote enough from the city so that
hauling, poling, and tugging, the we were not disturbed, no matter
canal was finally passed, and we came what we did.

out into Wattanummon's brook. It Speaking of swimming reminds me
was no small tax upon our patience that two of the places where I first
and seamanship to follow the intri- paddled about exist no longer. One
cate windings of this stream under lay between the tannery and the Con-
overhanging branches, through thick- cord & Montreal railroad. It was a
ets of swamp alder, over sunken tree small, round pool, covering about an
trunks and around, sharp bends, but acre and called the "Mud-hole." It
at last we emerged into the swift- is now filled up, but I took my first
flowing waters of the Merrimack, lessons at a very early age there.
Then came a hard pull up against The other was ju.st west of Walnut
the current, or a lazy drift down street. It was another small pool,
stream. Farnum's liddy, up river, and was the source of the brook
was a favorite resort, and I remember which ran down through the prison
that there were some famous walnut- yard, thence under State street across
trees near by, which received our Deacon Elwell's (now Mr. \'irgin's)

328

'THE OLD NORTH END:

Joseph B Walker.

land, under and
across Wash-
ington street
through Mrs.
Gilbert's place,
then through
my father's land
and so on down
to the steam
mill, thence
. across the in-
tervale to the river. Both pool and
brook have long since disappeared,
and the fields where they once glis-
tened in the sun are now covered
by houses and trim lawns. There
was at one time a boat on this pool,
and I have poled it down as far as
the old prison wall. As
near as I can remember,
the brook ran just about
where Beacon street now
lies.

Let us begin at the north
end of Main street and note
some of the changes. Hon.
Joseph B. Walker looks
much as he did, except that
time has added a little more
silver to his hair, but he is the same
unobtrusive, courteous gentleman as
of yore, and his ancestral home and
the noble trees around it still stand,
a landmark in Concord. My mother
used to tell me she remembered when
there was a flight of steps leading up

to a row of seats
in one of the great
^ trees in front of the

house.

Col. Enoch Ger-
rish, whose house
was always open
to me as a boy,
and whose bluff
kindness was ap-

i^L -^^^

Enoch Gerrish.

.5*

Luther

|.,.

John H. George.

preciated, re-
mains, though
seen about the
city perhaps
less than years
ago. He has
spent much of
his time of late
in travel, and
talks very inter-
estingly about
the countries he has visited.

Mr. F. A. Fiske passed away some
years since, a man whose kindly
smile and loving neighborliness en-
deared him to all the community.
His son, Mr. W. P. Fiske, retains
the old home and his father's sterling
traits of character. The
old F. A. Fiske store, one
of the few remains of the
^^ da3^s when the North End

was the business part of
• Concord, still stands,
though the business has
passed into the hands of
Mr. Patrick H. Earkin, who
Roby. was educated in it by Mr.

Fiske himself.
I can just remember the old Kim-
ball house, which is now replaced by
the substantial and perfectly ap-
pointed home of Mr. S. S. Kimball, a
man with whom modesty is a mania,
and whose kindly and good deeds are
always done with diligent secrecy.

The Moody
family, that oc-
cupied the house
just south of Mr.
Kimball, has en-
tirely disap-
peared.

Luther Roby,
an active busi-
ness man, whose Major J. E. tang.

IHE OLD NORIH ENDr

329

face was familiar in those days, has
gone, and the stately old home with
its long sweep of lawn and handsome
elms is now the property of Mr. and
Mrs. Murdoch.

Referring to the Roby house, Major
L/Cwis Downing informs me that it was
occupied in his early years by Ben-
jamin Kimball, son of Deacon John
Kimball, and that it was probably
built about 1795. He says that way
back in the twenties he used to visit
there, as Mrs. Kimball was his moth-
er's aunt, and that he has lately come
into possession of a letter, written by
his mother, then Lucy Wheelock, in

R E Pecker.

The Benjamin Kimball House.

that house, April 26, 1813, eighty-
four years ago, which is still in a
good state "of preservation, and very
much valued by himself and familJ^
By the wa}', the Major should reduce
to writing his recollections of Concord,
its buildings, and citizens, as they
were four or more decades farther
back than I am telling about at the
present time, and I hope he will do so.
The old house opposite, which has
at various times been a tavern, the
home of Hon. John Y. Mugridge,
General Patterson, and others, has
now many tenants, and belongs to a
sjaidicate.

Who cannot
remember Col.
John H . George !
I can see him
now, hurrying
down the street
with quick, short
steps, alwaj^s
read 5^ with a
hearty handshake
and some quip or

story ; warm-hearted, quick to anger,
and as ready to forgive and forget,
large of frame, large of heart; his
home was always open, and his hos-
pitality was boundless. His son and
daughter keep up the traditions of
the family, and I believe their front
door is never locked, at least, I never
knew any one to ring the bell.

Major J. E. Lang is not forgotten
by his many old friends, though he
joined the "silent majoritj' " a num-
ber of years since, and most of his
family have moved awa3^

Mrs. Robert E. Pecker lived in the
house now occupied by Dr. W. G.
Carter, and many a good dinner have
I eaten at her ho.spitable board. She
passed away some years since, re-
spected and beloved by all who knew
her. This house was built in 1791
by Philip Carrigan, and on account
of its size and expense was called

" Carrigan 's Folly."

It was at one

time a garrison
house.

The Rev. Dr.

^^^^^^

A y e r has e n-

deared himself to
all our people
during his long
and faithful min-

istry. He is now

frequently seen

upon his bicy-

Mrs RE Pecker.

33«

■'THE OLD NORTH END.

^^Kfftt^s.

John Abbott.

cle. Shades
of Nathaniel
Boutoii! What

4,^ ig^ u would the peo-

^ pie of "The

- - Old North

End" have
said fifty years
ago to have
seen one of
their pastors
astride a
wheel ? But
times have changed, and every one
adopts this beautiful and sensible
style of locomotion. It is even be-
coming a factor in the spread of the
gospel, and many a missionary and
poor minister, too poor to own a
horse, finds a wheel a means of reach-
ing outlying posts and parishioners.

Deacon Charles F. Stewart, for so
many long years city clerk, lived on
the corner of Franklin and Main
streets. His spare figure was well
known upon our streets, and his
name appeared on every marriage
and death certificate. The site of
his low, old-fashioned brick house is
now occupied by the attractive home
of Major McFarland.

Mr. Cyrus Paige, on the opposite
corner, died a few years since, and
Mr. John H. Pearson has moved to

Court street,
and our es-
teemed chief
justice occu-
pies the Pear-
son residence.
Mr. Pearson
appears as
young as he
did twenty
years since,

Mrs.NancyiViontgomeryWest. and is rCSpCCt-

ed by all who come in contact with
him.

' ' Honest John Abbott ' ' was ten-
derly laid to rest several years ago.
Never was there a more honorable,
a more kindly man. His heart was
as large and tender as his frame was
massive and towering. A devoted
husband and a loving father. I re-
member him with especially tender
feelings, for I spent so many happy
hours at his home, and knew him
intimately. Mrs. Abbott and her
daughter still live in the family resi-
dence, while the sons are filling
positions of honor and trust away
from home.

Judge Asa Fowler has gone to his
reward, and his
family are no longer
numbered among ^

the residents of Ib^SS-'^a

Concord. They, ^«t.'* *"

however, have not -^ m r ^

forgotten the place
of their nativity,
and have made the John west.

distinguished name
of their father familiar to the younger
generations by the "Fowler Memo-
rial lyibrary." Their home is now
owned by Gen. F. S. Streeter.

Next south of Judge Fowler's
house was a shoe shop, presided over
by one Shuff, an irritable man, whom
we boys used to delight in stirring
up.

Did you ever sit around the stove
on a cold, winter night at John
West's store? If you have, the pic-
ture of the place will come vividly
to your mind. I can see the old,
familiar faces. Samuel Wallace,
James Morrill, James Roby, Nathan-
iel Abbott, Lyman Merrill, James
Donegan, and many others. The

''THE OLD NORTH ENDr

331

stories thej^ told, the jokes they
played ! It was a treat to me when
I could steal away, and getting be-
hind a flour barrel, drink it all in
greedily, the while John West sat
on his high stool, casting up his
accounts, but always ready to take a
good-natured part in the badinage.
What a place to study human na-
ture ! What a place to cultivate
good temper !

Opposite the store was the carpen-
ter's shop of Mr. Samuel Wallace,
the site of which is now occupied by
Merrill's store. Next south of that
was Mr. Samuel M. Griffin's house
and then his carriage works, which,
together with the North church, were
burned one summer's night by that
crazy man, Greenough.

The burning of the North church
was a personal loss to me. I loved
the old building, with its high tower,
its box pews, and tall pulpit. It had
ample grounds and a high iron fence
around it, and" not the least loss by
the fire was the row of beautiful ma-
ples which encircled it. Many of my
ancestors were Congregationalists,
and attended this church, and I
always felt nearly as much at home
in it as in my own.

In this great conflagration the
massive timbers of the spire resisted
till the last. The covering or board-
ing was all burned off, leaving the
timbers with the great bell hanging
between, which had rung so many
times on Sabbath mornings to call its
people to devotion,* which had tolled
for so many of the departed, which
had wakened me so many times with
its wild clangor of alarm, and which
I had helped, surreptitiously, so
many times to peal out its glad wel-
come to the morn on May Day and

Fourth of July. The bell went first,
and many a man felt sad as it crashed
into the fiery furnace below, there to
l)e turned into the molten mass from
which it was cast. The spire did
not long survive. For minutes we
watched it sway and totter, while the
flames and sparks poured up its sides
and into the blackness of the heavens
above in one great, riotous, jubilant
roar. You could almost hear the fire
fiends laugh with delight. Then it
swayed dizzily towards the south,
then tottered towards the east as
though bowing a final adieu, and
then at last took one grand plunge
toward the west, right into the ruins
of the church itself. A mass of
sparks and flame swept upwards,
then blackness settled down, and a
chill fell on every heart, for we real-
ized that the Old North church was
no more.

Captain Horace Herbert, a veteran
of the late war, lives in the old Her-
bert house, one of the very old Con-
cord residences, but the Woolson and
Richard Herbert families have passed
away.

Dr. Ezra Carter ! Does not that
name call up memories to all North
End people ? I can see his smiling,
benignant face now, entering the
sick room, and bringing cheer, hope,
relief, by his very presence. He was
the most perfect representative of the
old family physician — the gentleman
of the old school — I have ever known.
None knew him but to love him, and
his death would have been an irrep-
arable loss if his noble traits of char-
acter had not been transmitted to his
son. Dr. W. G. Carter, whom I ven-
ture to state never had an enemy in
his life, and whose practice would
only have been limited b)' the num-

332

'IHE OLD NORTH ENDy

'\:.>

Dr Ezra Carter.

ber of hours in
the daj^ had his
health permit-
ted.

Mr. James M.
Moore, the vet-
eran hardware
merchant, still
lives, but J. D.
Johnson has
passed awa5^

and his home is now the residence of
Mr. John C. Thorne.

Hon. Edward H. Rollins died in
1889, and I think I may justly say
that his life was not without its uses.
He served his state and his constitu-
ents faithfully, and was always true
to himself and to his friends. Part of
his family still live in Concord, but
the old West house, becoming too
old for habitation, has been torn
down .

Major Henry McFarland, who for
many years lived just south of the
Rollins place, has come back to us
after a long absence, and no man
could be more welcome. He is the
best t5'pe of the good citizen. I well
remember, as a boy, playing tick-tack
on his windows one night. We boys

were all hidden in the arbor in our
yard, and had a string running over
to one of the windows of the Major's

house. We w^ere

getting

along

Judge Asa Fowler.

Dr Carter Place.

swimmingly, when a figure darted
around the comer and we scampered
in all directions. The Major was
pretty light on his pins in those days,
and he finally captured one of the
malefactors down near the steam mill.
He marched him up to his study,
and delivered a moral lecture on the
evil of boys in general and tick-tack
in particular.

Mrs. Sweetser
lived in the house
now occupied by
Mr. George H.
Marston, and the
home was noted
for its hospitality.
Mrs. Sweetser
and all her fam-
ily have passed
away, though her descendants are
living about Boston. In the garden
of this home there w^as a famous cold
spring, reached by a flight of stone
steps. I believe it has now been
filled up.

Ford's plow store still exists much
as of yore, though the old piazza on
the front is gone.

The Historical Society building
was then the Merrimack County Sav-
ings Bank, presided over by Mr.
Ebenezer Towle. It was a quaint
old bank, and Concord w^as a law-
abiding community then. Their
vault was unique, and the system of
locking it was probably never used in
any other bank. This lock was, un-
doubtedly, the first combination lock
ever invented, although I believe it
was never patented. The vault had
two doors, an outside and an inside.

'-THE OLD NORTH END.

333

The outside swung out and was
locked with a ke}- in the usual man-
ner. After closing the inside door,
which swung inward, and locking the
outside, the custodian proceeded to a
room back of the vault and unfast-
ened a little wooden door in the wall.
From this opening a hole ran through
the vault and a big iron bar was
thrown against the inside door b}'
means of a bed- wrench. Thus you
see the embryo combination lock, a
key, a hole in the wall, and a bed-
wrench. The festive modern burg-
lar would have had a picnic there,
but the citizens of Concord were
honest. Now the bank has joined
the march of progress and, leaving
"The Old North End" to its slum-
bers, has spacious modern banking
rooms down town.

In what is now a tumble-down ruin

was at that
time Miss
Dora Merrill's
school, a very
successful
and popular
school in its
day. Abridge
connected the
house with
the second
story of the
Historical Society building, which
was used as part of the school. Miss
Merrill has moved away, the old
school is a ruin, and her scholars
are washing the faces and combing
the hair of another generation of
school-boys and girls.

Dr. Warren and Mr. Hoyt, who
set out the hedge around the court
house, are both gone. Where John
Morrill now lives was then a lumber
yard connected with the steam mill.

E. H Rollins.

New Hampshire historical Society Building.

Miss Clara Morrill and her old home
have both vanished ; and Hook's
Tavern, wdiich stood on the corner of
Court and Main streets, reached b)^ a
flight of steps from the street, and the
only recollection of which I have is
of its being used for drinking pur-
poses on election day, has given place
to a smooth grass plot.

Hon. Asa McFarland was then a
prominent figure on our streets, but
he has passed awa}^ full of years, and
leaving behind him a blessed memor^^
of good deeds and the open record of
a well-spent life.

The Rev. Nathaniel Bouton's name
will ahva^'s be a prominent one in the
history of Concord, not only for his
long ministrj^ but because of his love
for, and association with, the records
of the cit}'. His clear-cut features,
his erect figure stand out before me

as a silhouette
upon the back-

ground of the

A/**t

past.

^tist^

Bishop N i 1 e s

jfj^^

had just arrived

^■^ JK

among us, and

while we knew

him b}^ reputa-

J. D Johnson.

tion, he did not

334

''THE OLD NORTH END:'

then occupy that large and prominent
place in our affections and respect
which he holds now. I doubt if New
Hampshire ever had a man within
her borders of broader learning, of
greater brain power, of more wonder-
ful memory and grasp of facts, and
with nobler ideals and aspirations.

Hon. George G. Fogg was just
rounding out his career of statesman-
ship, and he has joined those who
have gone before.

Rev. Nathaniel Bouton, D D.

Mr. Woodbridge Odlin still re-
mains to connect us with the uvii^ dis-
tant past. It is a common saying
when something which happened
many years ago is inquired about —
"Go ask Woodbridge Odlin." In
fact, he is a very Encycloptedia Con-
cordia.

In years agone North End people
bought their silverware of Ivory
Hall, who kept a jewelry store just
north of Dr. Conn's house. I have a

good deal of sil-
ver bearing his
name. Ivory
has been gath- ^^ .*^1»i

ered to his fa- pS^'

thers, and his
family has van-
ished.

Dr. G. P. Conn
is still in active

practice among ouver piiisbury.

us, in the prime

of life, a man of broad experience, in-
exhaustible good humor, and widely
known.

Hon. Onslow Stearns, once so
prominent in political and railroad
circles, a man of strong business in-
stincts, of great executive ability, and
a good citizen, died some years since,
and his house is used for other pur-
poses.

At the lower end of State street,
lyUthef S. Morrill, the urbane gen-
tleman, the kind friend, was taken
from us in his prime ; . while Dr.
Gage, his father-in-law, has also
passed away, full of years.

It is a constant source of congratu-
lation to me that the Hon. William
ly. Foster has survived his recent ill-
nesses and has been spared to us. No
more courtly gentleman ever walked
our streets, no more eloquent advo-
cate ever ap-
peared at the
bar of our
courts. May
he be .spared
many years,
not for his own
sake, but for
ours.

Mr. Charles
M i n o t was
another truly Dr. Prescott.

''THE OLD NORTH ENDr

335

good man who has left us. A fine
specimen of the high-toned business
man, using the expression in its right
sense.

Evil-doers no longer have to face
the venerable Judge Dana, but his
name has been prominently connect-
ed with our police court ever since
I can remember, and I am happy to
say he seems well and active yet.

Oliver Pillsbury was deeply re-
gretted when he was taken away.
A man of ripe judgment, honorable,
honored, tried and true.

Capt. Ebenezer Towle I remember
distinctly: a fine-looking man, with
smooth-shaved face and snow-white
hair. He occupied many places of

trust. His daugh-
ters now occupy
the ancestral home,
one of the most
beautiful in towni,
to my thinking.

Who did not
love Major A. B.
Thompson? A
tried soldier, a true Christian gen-
tleman, an upright citizen. In him
"The Old North End" lost one of
its beacon lights.

The Coffin family has disappeared,
like so many of our old family names,
I am sorry to say, and nothing re-
mains but the famous elm to mark
the place. To me this glorious tree
is the most beautiful I have ever
seen. Its strength, symmetry, and
grace are simply magnificent. I
wonder if it is half appreciated !

I should not pa.ss the "Old Ceme-
tery," where so many I have men-
tioned are .sleeping peacefully their
last sleep, without notice. If you
want to find Concord's old families,
the old familiar names, many of them

Hon. George G. Fogg.

\ ^

Woodbridge Odiin.

Ai B. Thompson.

forgotten, go there, spend a quiet
hour with the dead, and then medi-
tate on the mutability of all things
human and the fleetingness of the
vanishing present.

" Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the North Wind's

breath,
And stars to set; — but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own,
O Death!"

Hon. Samuel C. Eastman, a little
older, a little, just a little gray, is an
active factor in our communitj^ a
trusted counselor, an able advocate.

Mr. Moses Hazen Bradle3^ bears a
name distinguished in our annals and
closely connected with our early his-
tory. I am sorry to say he is the
last in the male line of the name, and
with him the family name wall disap-
pear.

I have thus briefly sketched some
of the more prominent names of my
childhood, — not all b}' any means.
Many I have left out wdiom I would
gladly have paid tribute to. but for
want of time. Have I not brought
before your mind's eye a goodl}^ ar-

(

^^^

Francis A FisUe.

Dr Charles P. Gage.

336

''THE OLD NORTH ENDr

Pierce Monument in iVIinot Enclosure, Old Cemetery.

ray of noble names, of goodly lives,
of men who did not live in vain ? and
I have not mentioned the good, true,
beautiful women of "The Old North
End," the devoted wives and moth-
ers, who reared large families of chil-
dren in the love of God and respect
of fellow-men, and who did so much
to build deep and strong the founda-
tions of our civic life. They would
require a separate article and deserve
it. But this hurried resume shows
you the changes time has wrought,
calls to your mind the names of loved
ones, who are not dead, but passed
beyond.

Did you ever stop to think how
many notable men and officials this
part of our city had brought forth or
contained? At a recent dinner, Hon.
Henry Robinson
read a list, and,
as near as I can
remember, it
was as follows :
Isaac Hill,
governor and
senator.

Franklin Mrs Gen. Davis.

Pierce, president of the United States.

George G. Fogg, minister to Swit-
zerland and senator.

Edward H. Rollins, speaker house,
congressman, and senator.

William E. Chandler, secretary
navy, speaker house, senator.

Jacob H. Gallinger, president sen-
ate, congressman, senator.

Onslow Stearns, president senate
and governor.

Nathaniel Baker, speaker house
and governor.

Charles H. Peaslee, congressman.

Jonathan Kittridge, chief justice
(lower court).

A. P. Carpenter, chief justice.

Ira Perley, chief justice.

William E. Foster, judge supreme
court.

Asa Fowler, speaker house and
judge supreme court.

N. G. Upham, judge supreme court.

Samuel. C. East-
man, speaker
house.

John Y. Mug-
ridge, president "'^ ^
senate.

Ai B. Thomp-
son, secretary
state and major,

U. S. A. Judge Kittridge.

I. W. Ham-
mond, deputy secretary state.

S. A. Carter, state treasurer.

A. D. Ayling, adjutant-general.

J. N. Patterson, U.S. marshal and
brigadier-general.

Oliver Pillsbury, insurance commis-
sioner,

James O. Eyford, bank commis-
sioner.

I. A. Watson, secretary board of
health.

Sylvester Dana, judge police court.

''THE OLD NORTH ENDr

337

Hon. N. G. Upham.

Benjamin E. Badger, judge police
court.

H. P. Rolfe, U. S. district attorney.
John Abbott, mayor.
Horace A. Brown, mayor.
John E. Robertson, maj'or.
J. M. Mitchell, railroad commis-
sioner.

The first four law reporters, Fos-
ter, Fogg, Chandler, and Hadley,
were from the North End.

This list might be extended, no

doubt, but it il-
lustrates pretty
well the charac-
ter of our peo-
ple.

I cannot close
without touch-
ing on some of
the old build-
ings. There was
and is the Mer-
rimack school, where my ideas be-
gan to sprout. In those times Miss
Eliza Day, now Mrs. Charles H.
Roberts, presided over the primary
school ; Miss Emery, over the inter-
mediate ; Miss Eaura Webster, now
Mrs. William K. McFarland, over
the second grammar; and Mrs. Ak-
erman, over the first grammar and
the whole school. They were all
fine teachers, and did their best to
cudgel some knowledge into as rat-
tle-headed and thick-skinned a set
of children as were ever gathered
together. My boy conies home from
school now and talks about this
grade and that grade, the first pe-
riod and the second period. I ask
him whether he is in the interme-
diate or second grammar, and he
looks at me with an expression sig-
nifying that I am out of my head.
"I don't know anything about your

Horace A. Brown.

intermediate and
second grammar, ' '
he says with scorn.
Well, I don't know
anything about the
fifth grade, and to
this day I do n't
know where my
boy is in school,
and I 'm blest if I
can find any one in Concord who
can tell me, though I have asked
many. The only thing I can do is
to watch him through, and when he
gets into the highest class I shall
know where he is. If I were to criti-
cise, which, of course, I shall not,
our present school system, I should
say there w^as too much red tape and
too many well-kept lawns. Is the
school yard the place for well-trimmed
lawns or for landscape gardening ? Is
it not the place for these young colts
to loosen up their muscles, to start
the red corpuscles moving, to work
off the animal so as to get at the
intellectual? Wh5^ in my day a
spear of grass would n't have been

Benjamin Green.

338

''THE OLD NORIH END.

tolerated for a moment in the Merri-
mack school yard !

I can see the old school now on a
warm spring afternoon, Mrs. Aker-
man sitting at her desk, straight and
stern, the battered air-tight stove,
the melodeon with the well-thumbed
dictionary on top, the bent heads,
the low buzzing of study, the shuf-
fling of feet, and the distant, monot-
onous mumble of recitation going on
beyond the blackboards, while ever
and anon the shriek of the circular
saw over in the prison shops would

The Old State Prison.

break in upon the semi-quiet. We
could see the guards on the wall,
walking back and forth in their mo-
notonous round, and this always
made me sleepy.

The old prison itself was one of
the features of the North End, one,
however, we were not sorry to get
rid of. Its rough, forliidding-looking
walls, its decidedly prison-like style
of architecture, were not cheerful to
contemplate. Prisoners used to have
more privileges then, at least some
of the trusty ones, and were fre-
quently seen in their black and red
garb outside the walls. I used to
know the one who had charge of the

stable, and he was a famous hand
with a jack-knife. He produced
those ivory toothpicks made to shut
up like a pocket-knife, and was an
object of great admiration to me. He
used to sit in the sun by the stable,
working away on these little toys,
which he sold very well.

In vay boyhood the old hand tubs
played an important part in our fire
department, and played well. The
best company was the No. 2, whose
house was on top of Chapel street,
just in the rear of the Methodist
church. The company was a large
one, and comprised a good part of
the young, active men of the North
End. When the alarm bells rung,
and the populace shouted ' ' Fire ! ' '
which every one did as soon as he
could get his head outside the door,
there was a race for the No. 2 house.
The first to arrive threw open the
doors, grabbed the steering handles,
and, without waiting for any help,
started the machine out of the house
and down the hill. The old tub
would rattle down to Main street like
a locomotive, and then the enterpris-
ing steersman would mount the ma-
chine and ring the bell on top till
enough men arrived to man the drag-
ropes and pull it to the fire. This
No. 2 company was a very enterpris-
ing one, and there was great rivalry
between it and the other engines.
The one to get on the first stream
was very proud of the fact. It used
to be darkly hinted that sometimes
the members of this company got ad-
vance news of fires to come, but of
this I cannot speak. There was one
member of the company who was my
particular admiration. His name was
Ben Ouillette, a Frenchman, and in
five minutes after he arrived at a fire

''THE OLD NORTH END.

339

H| FFlp^

Tne Rollins (or West) House.

he always appeared on the roof and
chopped a hole in it. It didn't mat-
ter where the fire was, whether it was
in the cellar or first story, there must
be a hole in the roof. I do n't know
whether he is still a member of the
department, but to me no fire would
be complete without Ben Ouillette
and his hole in the roof.

The West house, formerly the home
of John West, and so long the home
of the Rollins famil}^ was a historic
house which I am sure many were
sorry to see come down, but it had
outlived its usefulness. At an early
date all the city and county offices
were in it, and it was also at one time
the post-office. It was for many 3^ears
the headquarters for the Republican
part}' of New Hampshire, and many
a political campaign was mapped out
in its library. It was also the scene
of a great many social gatherings,
and to the writer every room is en-
shrouded in tender memories of dear
friends and childhood's happ}^ hours.

At the corner of State and Church
streets stood a small, square, brick
school, called the "Old Brick," and
in it a large portion of Concord's
North End people absorbed the rudi-
ments of their education. It had no
pretensions to architectural beauty,
and nothing to hallow it but old rec-
ollections and memories of childhood.

It was torn down some years since,
and a new building, placed on the
land formerlj' occupied by the Meth-
odist Institute, fills its place.

The real Old North church ante-
dated the one I have described by a
great many years. It stood where the
Walker school now stands, was built
of wood, painted white, and was of
rather an ambitious style of construc-
tion. In my boyhood, it was used
as a Methodist seminary, and one of
the yearly duties incumbent on us
boys was the horning of the students
and professors on May Day morning.
Those students were muscular Chris-
tians, and we were assailed by ever}'^
kind of a missile, in a most un-Chris-
tian-like manner, much to our de-
light. 77/n' did n't turn the other cheek.
They turned the hose on us, or any-
thing they could lay their hands on.
This old building also went up in
flames one night, and the North End
boys were deprived of a great source
of amusement.

If I had my way, I would preserve
"The Old North End" just as it is.
I would embalm it so that it could
not be improved out of existence, but
I suppose ere long the march of mod^
ernism will invade it, and that the old
homes will follow the old families into
the dim recesses of forgetfulness.

The Old North Church.

AT MIDNIGHT.

By Laura Garland Carr.

Sleep, balm}' sleep, why this freakish partialit)^ ?

Why this neglect of an old and tried friend ?
Have I not met you with promptest cordiality ?

Have I not tried with your humors to blend?

Have I not begged of you, almost imploringly,
Just one short cat-nap, to give me a rest,

While from yon chamber there comes to me snoringly
Proof that another is getting your best ?

Have I not run through the long, weary catalogue,

Means and devices your favor to keep.
Said o'er my lines from the primer to decalogue.

Numbered the pigeons, and counted the sheep7

Is there a memory in my brain lingering

That has not brought all its phases to light ?

Is there a theme for the mind's restless fingering
Still unconsidered, to claim me to-night ?

How the night wind, piping low and sarcastical,
Tries all the doors in the long, airy hall !

How the arc-light throws its shadows, fantastical,
Over the curtains and over the wall !

Oh, that tall clock, marking time off so lazily.

Sending each beat, like a spike, through the brain !

Oh, this small nickel here, ticking on crazily,
lyike a poor racer, all hurry and strain !

What 's that ! A mouse ! Sure, it sounded like nibbling !

It might have been burglars ! It might have been cats !
It might have been drops from the old faucet dribbling,

Wind-rustled paper, or scampering rats !

Ugh ! that south window distracts with its clattering !

We must have — Hark ! That 's the fire-alarm !
Good ! All the dreams of the town will go scattering !

When they return, one may weave me its charm.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT, NEW HAMP-
SHIRE VOEUNTEERS.

By Adjutattt Luther Tracy Townseiid.

CHAPTER XI.

THE GARRISON OF DISEASE AND DEATH.

N our narrative we now
return to Fort Burton,
at Butte a la Rose. It
will be seen by the ac-
companying diagram
that Butte a la Rose is a slight ele-
vation, which is said to have been
artificially constructed by the In-
dians, before the appearance there
of white men, and was resorted to
as a place of refuge when the sur-
rounding country was flooded during
the spring overflows.

Earl}^ in the war Butte a la Rose
was occupied by the Confederates,
made into a fortification, and, as al-
ready suggested, was one of the most
strategic points in the Southwest.
Southern Texas and southwestern
Louisiana, when seeking the water-
ways to the upper Mississippi, or to
the Red River country, could best do
so by entering the Atchafalaj^a. But
as Fort Burton effectually commanded
this great bayou, the Confederates had
determined to hold it as long as possi-
ble. All the more anxious were they
to do this because at that time the
Mississippi was blockaded by our
fleet, both above and below Port
Hudson.

When we took possession, Butte a
la Rose was essentially a little island
surrounded for miles with water, ex-

cepting on the west, where land could
be reached through a swamp at a dis-
tance of five or six miles.

At the north, also, there w^ere two
or three plantations on the shores of
the Atchafalaj-a that were not en-
tirely under water; but at the south,
as far as Brashear City, and east, as
far as Port Hudson, even the arable
land was covered with water in man}-
places to the depth of from seven to
ten feet, so that the small, flat-bot-
tomed, stern- wheel steamers that plj-
in those waters were sailing at that
time through dooryards and over
corn and cane fields. Nearly all
fencing was out of sight under water.

Butte a la Rose, aside from being
a very strategic position from a mili-
tary point of view, proved also to be
such from several other points of
view. It was the grand rendezvous
of mosquitoes, fleas, wood-ticks, lice,
lizards, frogs, snakes, alligators, fe-
ver bacteria, dj^senter}^ microbes, and
every conceivable t3'pe of malarial
poison.

From about sunset till daylight,
the mosquitoes came upon us in
dense battalions. Had it not been
for the mosquito bars, that were is-
sued to us when we were being de-
voured by these pests at Brashear
City, not a man of us, seemingly.

342

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

could have lived at Butte a la
Rose for a fortnight.

One of our correspondents in
writing home thus speaks of
these tormentors :

' ' Let me pay my respects to
those little winged co-habitues
with ourselves of these detest-
able surroundings. These little
rascals are comparatively civil
and respectful during the day,
but at the approach of night
their scattered forces are heard
returning from all quarters, and
can be seen ' massing ' their
columns in the immediate vicin-
ity of their intended point of
attack, and piping up their ac-
cursed strains as a kind of pre-
lude to combined assaults upon
those whose blood they seek.

" Denuding ourselves of hat,
blouse, vest, and pants, after a
careful and most wary tucking
of the folds of our net under the
edge of the blankets and per-
forming sundry imposing flour-
ishes around our heads with
some outspread Northern paper,
we slyly but quickly raise a
portion of the gauze aforesaid
and make a plunge within its
generous recess. Readjusting
the net and straightening out
our pedal limbs, we compose
our thoughts to listen with
complacency to the gathering
of wrath and baffled malice from
those infuriated bloodsuckers.

"And as we rest from the
heated labors of the day within
the mazy fortress, and listen to
the continuous hum and buzz of
those disappointed inhabitants
of the swamps and marshes,
secure in our assurance against

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

343

O OPE.LOOSA.S.

DAVOUS
AND

5WAMP?

DaYOUS
ano

SWAMPS/

DAYOUi'

ANP

NEW IDERiA'

their stinging lances, and think of
the blood that would flow should
they succeed in breaking down our
frail barrier, we thank nature and
art for gauze and muslin."

For miles on still nights the croak-
ing of frogs and hooting of owls could
be heard, and were at first amusing
but afterwards distressing. The
moccasin Snakes, whose bite is dead-
ly, were so bold and numerous that
they sometimes had to be shot out of
our pathway while we were passing
between the barracks. Alligators,
too, at night while hunting and kill-
ing their prey kept up an almost con-
tinuous splashing, which was doleful
enough in those desolate regions,
and more than once those treacherous
and ravenous creatures compelled our
pickets, who at night were not al-
lowed to fire upon them, to move in
near to our barracks for safety.

poP-"^-

.vi^

50^*0

,^0^

^OO^I)

0AYOU5

AN"

^SWAMPS

We must not forget in this enu-
meration of pests that we had, never-
theless, some friends among the in-
sect or rather reptile family, which
often warned us against the approach
of snakes and other venomous creat-

BUTTt A LA RO/e
roRT BURTON

VJATE"-

AND OMtXiE

^-^TEr^

344

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

ures. We mean the bright-e3'ed and
sociable little lizards that at times
seemed almost as numerous as house-
flies in our Northern homes in sum-
mer time. They would run over our
barracks and clothing, and in many
wa)'S appeared to be desirous of mak-
ing our acquaintance and courting
our friendship. At times when we
were asleep they would drop into our
hands and play at circus over our
faces if we did not wake, or if we
would allow them to do so. The
only trouble was that their touch
seemed a little too cold and slimy for
solid comfort.

Almost from the date of taking
possession of this fort we seemed at
singular disadvantage. We had no
sutler and scarcely any sutler's sup-
plies. Our sutler had gone North
with the bod}^ of his son, who was
killed April 13 by falling from the
cars on the passage from New Or-
leans to Brashear City. The afflicted
father, who b}^ his genial nature had
won our esteem, had the heartiest
sj'mpathy of our men when the death
of this promising lad was announced.

As the days wore on, we found
ourselves without lemons, oranges,
or fruit of any kind, for which we had
an intense craving in consequence of
the different kinds of fever that had
begun to prey upon us.

The discomfort of those who were
deprived of tobacco was especially
noticeable, and any of our readers
who have used tobacco for years and
then suddenly have been deprived of
it know how keen is the distress.

The quids that had been chewed
and even re-chewed were not thrown
away, but were dried and then
smoked. We do not vouch for the
statement, but recently we were told

by one of our comrades that some of
our tobacco users during those days
when no fresh supplies could be had,
would secrete the second-hand quids
under the flooring or among the tim-
bers of their barracks and then stand
guard over them with a musket.

It became manifest after a time
that an effort ought to be made to
furnish the men in some measure
with what are known as sutler's sup-
plies. Accordingly, for that purpose,
the adjutant, with full powers but
without funds, though having some
credit, was despatched to New Or-
leans.

At this point a promised public
confession must be made. On inquirj^
as to what articles would be of special
usefulness to the men, we were told
that among other provisions a quan-
tity of Hosteter's Bitters should be
provided, as they would prove a most
excellent prescription for such of our
men as were suffering from chills. A
stack of recommendations- extolling
their merits and enumerating the re-
markable cures wrought by them was
furnished, and accordingly two or
three cases of Hosteter's Bitters were
put on to the invoice.

These bitters with other goods
reached Butte a la Rose in safety,
and were sold to those who could pay
for them and were given to those who
were without funds. But some of
the men, who probably were more
chilly than the others, took overdoses
and in consequence became stagger-
ing drunk.

The adjutant had the mortifica-
tion of discovering that though he
was president of the temperance so-
ciety of the regiment, he had fur-
nished almost pure whiskey to the
men under the label Hosteter's Bit-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

345

ters. But as no ill had been intended
the president of the temperance so-
ciet}^ was not deposed from office.

We not only were without a sutler
at that time but our chaplain had
gone North on leave of absence in
consequence of sickness, and our
quartermaster was not with us, and
most of the time during our stay at
Butte a la Rose we were without a
surgeon. Dr. Campbell had died;
Dr. Sanborn was North on a fur-
lough ; Dr. Fisk, besides being over-
worked, had been assigned duty, if
we remember correctly, at Brashear
City ; and Dr. Sleeper was late in
reporting, though, as we recall the
facts, it was without fault on his
part.

Meanwhile, our men were sicken-
ing rapidly and dying almost daily.
Had it not been that occasionally a
negro or poor white would come to
the garrison with a rowboat load of
fresh vegetables, together with a few
berries, and eggs, and a small quan-
tit}^ of poultry, which were ex-
changed for coffee and tea, we must
have famished in our sick and nause-
ated condition, on such rations as the
government supplied.

Soon after we took possession of
Butte a Ik Rose, " bank of the rose,"
an exceedingly attractive and poetic
but as misfitting a name as well can
be imagined, the waters in the bayous
and pools surrounding us commenced
to fall, thus uncovering to a tropical
sun the deca)^ed and decaying vege-
table matter that for weeks had been
submerged. The atmosphere a little
after sunfall and on through the night
was almost insufferable, and our sick
men when breathing it were con-
scious that every breath was so much
more poison added to their blood.

There must have been on our rolls
at one time or another while we were
at Butte a la Rose, not fewer than six
or seven hundred men. But under
date of May 26 the regiment could
muster only one hundred and fifty
for duty.

It should be borne in mind, too,
that manj^ of our number, in conse-
quence of previous exposures and
hardships, were sick and debilitated
when they reached this place. As
would be expected, a more pitiful
sight than our regiment presented
during the last two weeks of our stay
at Butte a la Rose hardly can be
imagined. Wasted away by various
forms of disease, men who had
weighed two hundred pounds or
more were reduced to half that
weight. One of our company" offi-
cers, Captain Sanborn, Company E,
whose ordinary weight was consid-
erably above two hundred pounds,
could not tip the scales at ninety.

Some of our men were covered with
burning and painful eruptions, others
were yellow as saffron, others were
shaking with ague, others were
bloated with dropsy, and all were
sallow and emaciated.

In person and by letters we had
pleaded repeatedly with the military
officers who had charge of that west-
ern department, to transfer us from
our deadly encampment ; but this re-
ply came back as often as the request
was made : " You know the localit}^ ;
there is not an available regiment we
can send to relieve you. You must
sta}' until our army retires down the
Teche or crosses the Mississippi,
which we hope will be at an earlj"-
date."

They ought truthfully to have
added, — "We will relieve you when

346

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

we are through shipping cotton,
sugar, and molasses to New Or-
leans." No one can deny that the
lives of New Hampshire men were
imperilled for a few bales of cotton
and hogsheads of molasses.

And so we remained there at Butte
a la Rose until we came perilously
near not being relieved at all, except
by death or the Confederate troops.

At this point we introduce an epi-
sode that at least has a measure of
importance by way of suggestion.

April 26, General Banks and some
members of his staff came down the
Atchafalaya on the transport Laurel
Hill, reaching Butte a la Rose early
in the day. After a brief consulta-
tion with our officers, during which
we again pleaded for removal from
that fatal garrison, the boat proceeded
down the bayou for Brashear City.
As various supplies were needed by
the regiment, the adjutant, who at
that time was expected to have gen-
eral supervision of sutlers, quarter-
masters, ordnance officers, and even
medical supplies, and who already
had made six trips between Butte a la
Rose and Brashear City, again was
despatched on the Laurel Hill with
General Banks for New Orleans.
Not many miles from Butte a la Rose
the adjutant noticed that a bayou
new to him had been entered. At
first he thought that this course had
been taken to secure deeper water,
but it soon became apparent that this
could not have been the case, and
remembering our misdirection during
the mud march, and the probable mis-
direction that had deceived General
Grover at Bayou Boeuf, and the trick
played on the captain of the Arizona
on the day we captured Fort Burton,
he became uneasj' and asked to see

General Banks on an important mat-
ter. The interview was granted.

"You will excuse me. General,"
said the adjutant, "but I notice that
this boat is not on the course usu-
ally taken b}^ boats going down the
river."

"Are 5'ou sure," asked the gen-
eral, "that we are not on the right
course ? ' '

"I am sure," replied the adjutant,
"that we are not on the course
usually taken."

The captain of the boat was called,
and the general said to him, "Cap-
tain, this adjutant, who has passed
between Butte a la Rose and Brash-
ear City several times, says you are
off your course."

"Not quite that," interrupted the
adjutant; "I said 'this is not the
course usually taken.' "

The captain replied, "I know
nothing of these waters myself, but
am trusting to the pilot and a
stranger we have taken aboard to aid
him."

Already we were in among logs
and snags, and the water appeared to
be shoaling. A consultation was
held in the wheel-house. The
stranger, who pretended to be a pilot
in those waters, insisted upon going
ahead, saying that the water would
soon deepen. But every indication
pointed otherwise. After further
consultation, the boat, whose engine
had already been stopped, was backed
slowly and cautiously until breadth
of water was found sufficient for turn-
ing. The boat then put back to Fort
Burton and tied up for the night.
There is very little room for doubt in
the adjutant's mind, at least, that
that pilot intended mischief. Had
the transport been snagged, and it is

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

347

a great wonder that she was not, for
that probably was the intention of
that Louisiana guerrilla pilot, she
easily could have been fired during
the night, and in that wilderness of
woods and waters, with no clearing
anywhere in sight, twentj^-five or
fifty armed Confederates in their
skiffs without much difficulty could
have gobbled up the general com-
manding the Nineteenth Ami}- Corps,
together with all the staff accompan}'-
ing him. If we remember correctl}^
that trick}^ assistant pilot was the
next day placed in irons and taken
to New Orleans.

More than once after the close of
the war General Banks and the adju-
tant rehearsed the scenes of that day
and speculated on what might have
followed had the Laurel Hill run on
to a stump or have been mud-stuck
in that out-of-the-w^ay place, with
Confederate scouts scattered through-
out the adjacent forests.

We return again to the perils that
confronted our garrison at Butte a la
Rose.

Opelousas, which was nearly north-
west of us, and about fift}' miles dis-
tant, was taken and occupied by the
main body of the Federal troops
April 20. •

After remaining there for two weeks,
waiting, as was alleged afterwards, to
hear from General Grant, though our
troops were bu-sj^ all the time in for-
warding cotton, sugar, and molasses
to New Orleans, General Banks
moved on to Alexandria, which al-
read}^ had been captured by our fleet
of gunboats. This was a difficult
and wearisome march for the troops,
and why it was made was an unan-
swered question then and is so still.

Admiral Porter, who had captured

the city, writing of this campaign
says: "General Banks marched a
large portion of his armj' to Alex-
andria ... for what purpose
'nobody knows."

So overrun was that part of Louisi-
ana at that time with scattered Con-
federates, manj^ of whom were "a
nondescript class, neither soldiers nor
guerrillas, but a sort of highwaymen,
mounted on mustangs, and armed
with shot-guns," and so difficult in
consequence of those roving bands
was it for couriers to carry des-
patches that it had taken forty days,
from March 23 to May 2, for Grant
and Banks to exchange communica-
tions.

In consequence of these delays and
the lateness of Banks in reaching
Alexandria, and perhaps for other
reasons known better to General
Grant than to any one else, all in-
tention on his part of securing a co-
operation between the Thirteenth and
Nineteenth Army Corps was aban-
doned, and General Banks was left
single handed to lay siege once more
to Port Hudson.

Accordingh', on May 14, Grover's
division marched from Alexandria to
Simmesport, which in direct line is
about fifty miles north of Butte a la
Rose, and there he crossed the At-
chafalaya.

Two days later, Emory's division,
then under command of Gen. H. E.
Paine, followed, and a little later
Weitzel's division did the same.
The entire force under these three
generals then moved across the coun-
try to the Mississippi river, and down
its west bank about twenty-five miles
to Bayou Sara. Here a crossing was
effected, and on May 24 the troops
under Generals Grover, Paine, and

348

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

Weitzel joined those under General
Augur, who during the campaign up
the Teche country had remained in
the vicinity of Port Hudson.

It will be seen, therefore, that from
May 1 6 until our regiment left Butte
a la Rose, we were not onl}^ in the
valley and shadow of disease and
death, but were also in the midst of
the enemy's country without anj'
military support whatever.

No sooner had Alexandria been
evacuated by the Union troops than
the Confederate Major- General
' ' Dick ' ' Taylor took possession of
the city and began the reorganiza-
tion of his forces. Verj^ soon be-
tween three and four thousand men
were in readiness, and Taylor, to-
gether with Generals Moulton and
Green, moved down and repossessed
the Teche country. These forces
were now in our rear and still no
move had been made either for our
release or protection.

At that time, in our weakened con-
dition, a small detachment from Tay-
lor's troops, say fifty or a hundred
men, easily could have captured us.
But perhaps he thought we were
safely cooped up where we were and
that he would leave us there till
some other day.

In the meantime, the waters of the
Atchafalaya were constantly and
rapidly falling, and the river would
not be navigable much longer. The
enemy's scouts were seen by our
pickets almost daily and heard almost
nightly. Every available man in our
regiment was assigned to picket duty.
We made in this way all the show
possible, though dress parading, bat-
talion drilling, and even formal
guard mounting long since had been
dispensed with. Deaths and funerals

were distressingly on the increase,
and pieces of pine board with lead-
pencil marks upon them were the
only headstones and inscriptions that
could be used.

We had had occasional assurances
from transport boats that came up the
bayou that we were soon to be taken
off. But we waited day after day,
and still no definite arrangements for
our departure appeared to have been
made. We were, at times, almost
maddened by these disappointments
and delays. Had an opportunity pre-
sented itself, the writer has no doubt
that the officers of the regiment would
have done what they did once before,
— they would have taken matters into
their own hands, and without orders
from any one would have moved the
regiment out of that detestable hole,
whatever the consequences might
have been. But escape by land was
impossible. We had no guides, and
though the water was receding, the
mud many feet in depth remained.

May 27, the small gunboat Esh-ella,
the last of the fleet of gunboats to de-
scend the baj^ou, called at the fort on
her way from Alexandria to Brashear
City. This seemingly was our last
chance, and the adjutant once more
was despatched to Brashear City to
ascertain if anything possibly could
be done to relieve our regiment from
its increasingly perilous situation. On
the wa}' to Brashear City, the captain
of the E^trella was made fulh' aware
of the helpless condition of the regi-
ment, but of course could do nothing
without orders. His heart, however,
had been touched.

The staff (quartermaster at Brash-
ear City could have relieved us had
he chosen to do so, but he declined
to act without specific orders from

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

349

headquarters. All this was aggravat-
ing almost beyond endurance. In
fact, the adjutant was almost wild
with anxiety, lest after repeated efforts
he should fail in his mission. The
recollection of those hours even now
while writing these pages makes him
start to his feet as if in a nightmare.

The peril of the regiment, owing
to the rapid falling of the w^aters in
all the streams and bayous, was in-
creasing with ever)^ hour's delay. In
making the late passages, each of the
larger -transports, while crossing the
chain of shallow lakes connected by
the Atchafalaya, dragged bottom,
and had they attempted to sail a few
feet either side of the channel they
would have grounded or have been
snagged. The transport George A.
Sheldon already had struck a snag,
and sank close by Fort Burton.

When all these facts are taken into
account, it seems like a most mani-
fest providential interposition that
there was a young division staff offi-
cer from Massachusetts, who, at the
same time the adjutant w^as pleading
v/ith those in authority to save our
regiment from capture and death,
reached Brashear City by order of
General Emory, and began to inter-
est himself in our behalf. This offi-
cer was Captain Alpheus Hyatt. He
was not long in coming into full
sympathy with our situation and al-
most commanded an expedition to be
sent to relieve us.^ It goes, perhaps,
without saying, that one of the glad-
dest moments of the historian's life
was when on board the Estrella, in
company with Captain Hyatt, he
shook himself and found he was not
dreaming and that the Estrclla and
two transports were really starting for
those imperiled comrades.

At this point w^e introduce a letter
from Captain Hyatt which will make
it clear that the historian has not
overestimated the perilous position
we were in at the time of which we
are speaking, or overdrawn the dis-
tressing, almost appalling, condition
of our regiment when Butte a la
Rose was evacuated :

"Cambridge, Mass., June 21, 1893.
^'■Adjutant of Sixteenth Reghnent, New
Hampshire Volunteers.

"Dear Sir :—

' ' My memory of the evacuation of
Butte a la Rose and the events at-
tending it has been kept clear by
repetition, but of course many of the
details have faded from my mind, be-
cause I have not yet met any one who
had been an actor in the same scenes.

"I was at that time a captain in
the Forty - seventh Massachusetts
Volunteers and acting aide-de-camp
upon the staff of General Emory, who
was in command of the city and dis-
trict of New Orleans and of the troops
on the w-est banks of the Mississippi
opposite that district.

" His adjutant-general gave me an
order to proceed to Brashear City and
then to Butte a la Rose with three
steamers to be procured at the last
named port, and to bring off the
garrison at the port of Butte a la
Rose, if, as was significantly but ver-
bally added, they are still there. It
was understood in New Orleans that
this expedition might miscarry, since
it was known that the Confederates
were then pushing forward from
Texas with the intention, if practi-
cable, of reaching the banks of the
Mississippi, and annoying, if not
capturing, the weak garrison of New
Orleans.

350

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

' ' I found at Brashear City that
the expedition was looked upon as
more risky than it was at headquar-
ters in New Orleans. The Confed-
erate pickets had possession of the
opposite bank of the Atchafalaj'a and
would be certain to note the depar-
ture of the steamers. The quarter-
master at that place, Brashear City,
in consequence of this opposed the
execution of my orders, denying
that Emory had any rights in , that
locality, which he asserted was di-
rectly under General Banks. When
this was pushed aside after some hard
talk and some words, which I do not
remember, he still opposed the send-
ing of steamers, on the ground that it
was useless ; there were no well-pro-
tected boats; it would be delivering
the crews and the steamers into the
hands of the enemy and so on. I
finally interviewed some of the cap-
tains of the boats and by proper rep-
resentations enlisted the sympathy of
one of them and got him to go with
me to the quartermaster and volun-
teer his services for the attempt. He
represented that the greatest danger
was the possible lowness of the water
which might prevent the return of
the boats when loaded, but as he also
admitted it would be easy to judge oj
this on the way up and possibly pro-
vide against it in the loading ; this
induced the quarterma.ster to grant
the detail of steamers. We left
Brashear City, I think, on the third
day after my arrival there, and this
delay made me very anxious for the
safety of the garrison we were to take
away.

"Although in full sight of the
enemy at starting, we were not dis-
turbed on the way, and arrived with-
out accident at the fort. This fact

and the welcome nature of the news
we brought are events probabl)^
better remembered by the surviving
soldiers of the Sixteenth New Hamp-
shire than by myself. Although
3^oung, and a rather reckless young
man at the time, I can never forget
the interior of that fort, the tents set
upon the sides of the dyke or road in
the interior, to keep them out of the
swamp. I had never seen before this,
an undisguised swamp in the parade-
ground of a fort, and the terrible dis-
comfort and danger of this to the
troops were obvious.

' ' That any large proportion of your
regiment lived to see civilization
again, after such prolonged seclusion
in this black hole of swamp sickness,
shows how tough New Hampshire
constitutions are. The larger num-
ber of your men were sick, and if I
remember right there were only one
hundred . and twenty-five capable of
helping the crews of the steamers to
remove the sick, the baggage, and
the guns. The emaciation and pallor
of those men working at night along-
side of the sunburnt crews of the
steamers was very noticeable. Their
weakness was noticed by me in the
fact that, although doing their best,
they moved about with extreme diffi-
culty ; the entire one hundred and
twenty-five, though doing their best,
were not able to do one fourth the
work done by the crews of the steam-
ers, who numbered fewer than one
half as many as your men. I ought
to say here that I cannot recall
whether I brought up three boats or
two, but I feel quite sure about the
number of men. I do not remember
whether we got away before morning,
but I have a picture in my mind of a
long procession of men carrying the

THE DREAMS OF JUNE. 351

sick on stretchers and spreading them Captain Alpheus Hyatt we never can

out over the decks of the boats, and repa3^ Had it not been for his per-

I distinctly recall going up to the sistent and resolute efforts in our be-

pilot-house and looking down upon half, and for the humane offices of the

decks with solid piles of motionless, captain of the Estrella, we do not

blanketed men stretched out straight believe one of the sick men of our

on their backs, quiet as the dead that regiment ever would have left Fort

they so closely resembled. It was the Burton, and the fate of the most of

most pitiful and impressive picture of those who were still able to do duty

suffering that, can be imagined. after having been cut off from com-

" The uneventful return to Brash- munication with our army and almost

ear City is, of course, familiar to 3'ou. from the outside world, would have

"Hoping that these fragmentary been more deplorable than any one

reminiscences may be of some inter- can dream who is not familiar with

est to you, I remain, that doleful place. There we were,

" Yours respectfully, imprisoned, and without supplies.

"Alpheus Hyatt." Escape through the swamps was im-
possible. This was the last of Ma3^

Yes, we, too, remember that night The last of July General Taylor re-
scene ; few recollections of a lifetime turned up the Teche countrj^ At
are more vivid. And no troops in that time we should have been taken
greater miser}- and distress ever prisoners, if any of us had remained
placed health and life upon their alive.

country's altar than did the men of Again and again we offer our

the Sixteenth during the time they thanks to the captain of the Estrclla

garrisoned that dreadful "black for volunteering his services, and to

hole" of disease and death. Captain Hyatt for his earnest inter-

The debt of gratitude we owe to cessions in our behalf.

Note. — The author desires suggestions or corrections from any comrade of the Sixteenth or any other regiment.

\Tc he continued. '\

THE DREAMS OF JUNE.
By L. Arolyn Cavcrly.

When the skies of June arch high, arch high.
Where the gay cartoons of the meadows lie ;
When the oriole trills his sweet rondeau.
And the roses blossom in flame and snow.
Then the fair mirage of ovir youth looms nigh.
And we dream, we dream of the days gone b}'.

When the moon of June hangs low, hangs low,
And the beck's faint flutings fall and flow.
Where the pale wood lilies sway and sigh,
As the whippoorwill through the dusk yearns nigh.
Then the heart keeps tryst with its youth, we know.
And we dream, we dream of the long ago.

POIvIvY TUCKER.

By Annie J. Conwell.
CHAPTER XIII.

NOVEMBER 29, 1809.

To-morrow will be
Thanksgiving, but

we shall not take any
notice of what has always been the
occasion of the year to us all. Last
year we were all so happy together
that this year is sadder by contrast.
Mother has grown too weak to sit up
at all, and Dr. P. tells us that if she
does not improve soon, there is no
chance of her getting better. I am
.so thankful now that I did not leave
home last June ! What would Mother
have done without her daughter dur-
ing this long, wearisome illness, and
how could I bear to remember in
after years that Mother lacked care
that I could have given her, had I
been less fond of seeking my own
pleasure ?

I do not hear very often from Al-
fred now, for I cannot write cheer-
ful letters and worry as I do about
Mother; so I merely tell him that
she is so feeble as to need all my
time and attention, and in ever}- let-
ter that I receive from him he bids
me keep up good courage, for she is
sure to be better .soon, and between
the infrequent letters, he sends me
books and papers which I have no
time to read. He goes into society a
good deal, and can have no idea of
the life that I lead. It may be well
that it is so, but oh , if I only had a

sister or some one who would really
help me to bear this grief, how thank-
ful I should be !

Joseph Mason rode by the house
to-day wdth his father. I saw him
pass, but did not recognize him
at first, he is so much improved
in looks. He looks older and more
manly than when he left home. He
called here in the evening, and was
so kind and sympathetic that he
rested me and did me good. Mother
talked with him quite a little, and
was very glad to see him. When
he went away, he took with him the
hearty good- will of us all, and my
sincere gratitude for his- kind friend-
liness. After all, he is the same
kind-hearted Joe, who made sunshine
for us all, oh, so long ago !

Mon., Jan. i, iSio.
Another New Year's Day has
dawned, bright and clear without,
but sad and lonely to me, for my
dear mother is gone from me. Three
weeks ago she left us, and it .seems
as if we entered a thick cloud then,
which closely enfolds us. Father is
completely overcome, and depends
upon me for everything. I try to be
brave when he is about, but when I
am alone, as I am most of the time,
I feel utterly bereft. All of our
friends have been more than kind
through this trouble, but of course
no one could take charge of the
household affairs but me, and I was

POLLY TUCKER.

353

thaukful to have it to do. Charlie
was the greatest help and comfort to
me. He came home from Riverside
several days before Mother died, and
I do not know what I should have
done without the support of his sym-
pathy and presence. He has been in
a bank at Riverside almost a year-
did I tell you ? Alfred came down
soon after Mother died, and was as
helpful and kind as could be. He
tried to console me, and to take ni}-
mind off of my grief, but all the time
that he was here I felt a sort of care
for his personal comfort, so he was
really one care more. He was anx-
ious to be of use, but the trouble was
very near, and was something that
he did not know how to meet.

I was grateful to him for his sym-
pathy', but was conscious of a feeling
of relief when at last he returned to
Riverside. He came to the funeral
with Major and Madam Sherburne,
and remained through the evening
after. He claimed that he did not
know that we considered Mother's
case hopeless, until the end came ;
and was surprised that I had not
written him of the true state of affairs
at home. I explained that until the
VQxy last I did not realize that there
was no hope of her life being pro-
longed, though I knew that she
could never be well again, and I did
not want to distress him with details
of a protracted illness. The care of
Mother and of the house has worn
upon me a good deal, and I felt that
he was shocked at my* changed looks
as well as at all the other circum-
stances. When he went back to
New York 1 don't think I felt any
more desolate than I did when he
was here. I try hard to be cheerful
when Father is bv, but the effort

seems to exhaust me and I am really
no company for any one. Am I to
vspend my life under this shadow?

Feb. 4.

Now that I am settled in my posi-
tion as Father's housekeeper, I see
my duty plainly. It is a painful one,
but my duty, none the less, — I must
offer to release Alfred from his en-
gagement.

It was entered upon under wholly
different circumstances, and I some-
times think with a wholh* different
person than my present self.

I cannot leave my father alone, and
I have no right to ask Alfred to wait
an indefinite time for one who would
be at best but a sorry possession,
worn and faded by care and sorrow.
Before I sleep I will write him to
that effect, and if he accepts his free-
dom it will be all right ; if he does not,
I shall have one prop left, after all.

Wed., Feb. 28.

Just one year ago to-night I at-
tended the party at Madam Sher-
burne's, and the next day Alfred
3'ielded reluctantly to my parents'
wish that our engagement should be
kept secret for a 3'ear. I wonder if
he imagined for a moment that his
reply to my letter of the fourth inst.
would reach me on this anniversar}' ?
I opened it with trembling hands,
scarcely knowing what to expect. It
was a wail over the circumstances
that separated us ! He deplored the
facts, but must submit since it was
useless to struggle. Although his
fondness for me was unchanged and
my decision a bitter grief to him,
he still acknowledged the justice
of my view of the matter and bowed
to the inevitable. Through the
years to come he should still remem-
ber me fondly, and he implored me

354

POLLY TUCKER.

not to withhold my warm friendship
from him, even though he might
be unworthy of deeper regard. The
letter was signed, "Your sincere
friend and well-wisher, Alfred lyadd."

My idol was clay ! But even while
I wept for my beautiful idol I recog-
nized the fact that he was weaker of
purpose than I.

I ought to be thankful that the
affair has ended as it has and left me
in my father's house, instead of los-
ing Alfred's love after I had married
him, and with the withdrawal of that,
losing my faith in the loving care of
my Heavenly Father. Now I try to
thank Him, though my foolish heart
aches for my vanished dream. But
although m}^ eyes are blinded by
tears and life seems hard and dreary,
I will still cling to my mother's faith
that "God knows best." I do not
feel so now, — I can only strive to, —
so until I can truly say that I am
glad that my life is settled into the
groove in which it is henceforth to
run, I shall write no more in these
pages. Sometime, I know, I shall
have outlived the dreadful misery of
the present, and what now rends my
heart will be better understood and
devoid of pain to me ; then what I
should write now would only shame
me. Till then, good-by, my friend.

Jan., 1811.

I am glad to come - to 3^ou once
more, my diary, and tell you all that
is in my heart. My penance is ended.
I am sure now that the girlish, ro-
mantic devotion that I gave Alfred
was better subdued than cherished.
There is no bitterness to me in the
thought of what might have been,
and I do not blame Alfred, for he
simply acted out his nature. His
buoyancy and lightness of heart were

irresistible when things went well ;
but to that sunny temperament sad-
ness was irksome and well-nigh un-
bearable.

Had my mother lived and my face
and manner kept their brightness, he
would probably have married me and
been a loving husband, — until he
was tired of me ; but dark days come
to all and beauty is fleeting, — so
what happiness could one be sure of
whose hold upon her husband's affec-
tion depended upon gaiety of man-
ner and freshness of countenance?
When trouble is no more and beauty
is perennial, — such men should- mar-
ry ; but till then Alfred L,add could
never make a liappy wife of Polly
Tucker. For more than a j-ear I
have been mistress of my father's
house, and I trust his home has not
been a wholly desolate place to him.
Through deep sorrow for our com-
mon loss and many bitter tears for
my own private grief, I have strug-
gled into an atmosphere of peace, into
which the memory of the past enters
not to molest or disturb. I told
Father that I had dismissed Alfred,
as I knew he would be likely to
notice if no letters passed between
us. He asked no questions, and in
his own great trouble I doubt if he
thought more of it than that it was a
childish fancy as easily forgotten as
adopted, — and I was only too glad to
have a chance to fight my battle
without being observed.

Charlie comes home nearly every
Saturday, and is the greatest possible
comfort to me. He is only three
years older than I am, and before
Mother went away I always thought
of him as a boy ; since then he has
grown so mature, so thoughtful of my
comfort and attentive in many little

POLLY TUCKER.

355

ways, that I quite depend upon him.
Major Sherburne tells Father that
Charlie is a good business man, too,
and he ought to know if any one
does, for he introduced Charlie to the
directors of the bank and has assisted
him in every possible way ever since
he left home. The Sherburnes in-
vite him to their house frequently,
and that is a great help to him, for
he meets there refined and intelligent
people, whose good opinion he likes
to desen^e, which is excellent disci-
pline for our restless, independent
boy. I am quite proud of him, and
do not wonder that he is a favorite
with his young lady friends. That I
hear from Madam Sherburne, who
invites me to her house, too, but my
black gown is excuse enough for de-
clining what would be distasteful to
me. To be sure the Sherburnes
never knew of Alfred's relation to
me, but I should feel conscious if his
name were mentioned, and in his own
home of course he would be spoken
of. Charlie brought home a piece of
news last Saturday. It was nothing
less than the announcement of the
marriage of Alfred and Miss Went-
worth. Well, he could not do better,
for he alwa^'S liked her, and she is so
handsome and spirited that she will
hold his admiration and so keep his
affection as a more retiring person
could not. They are of the same
social position, and it is in ever}^ way
a very desirable match. I am glad to
say that I can really and honestly con-
gratiilate — both, and wish for them all
the happiness which their bright pros-
pects and mutual fondness promise.
Charlie is ill. Not seriously so.

but he has a troublesome cough
which alarms Father and me, for we
recognize in it one of the fir.st symp-
toms of the dread disease which
robbed our home of its light, less
than two years ago. But Charlie is
yoiing, and Dr. Pierpont advises him
to quit the bank, as it is too confining
for one accustomed to an active, out-
of-door life. So the first of April he
is going to give up his position at
Riverside and come back to the farm.
Of course he is disappointed at being
obliged to give up a business life, but
I hope he won't feel discontented with
us. It shall be ni}- care to keep him
from moping.

July, 1811.
I guess Charlie is n't going to do
much moping, after all. Don't 3-ou
think, he surprised us last week by
announcing his engagement to one of
my friends, — Mary Seavey. I half
feared that he would be led captive
by some city girl's charms, but it
seems his boyish fondness for Mary
has kept pace with his growth, and
by-and-by they are coming here to
live with Father and me. I am re-
joiced, for then I shall have a sister
and Father another daughter, and,
too, we are very fond of Mar}- and
are glad to receive her into the fam-
ily. Charlie's health improved from
the time he came home, and now he
is quite well and perfectly radiant in
his happiness. Joseph Mason is
coming home this week, and it will
seem quite like old times for us all to
be together again, for of course he
will visit Charlie. This is a pretty
good world, after all, if one doesn't
look at it through blue glasses.

356

POLLY TUCKER.

CHAPTER XIV.

Sept. 20.

Joseph Mason is at home now, and
has been here several times this
week. He is to have a three weeks'
vacation, and he and CharHe, Mary
and I have planned to spend as much
time as possible together. Joseph is a
little bit dignified, and does n't have
very much to say to me personally,
but I do n't take an}- notice of the
change in his manner, and I hope
the coolness will wear off before long,
for he comes here just as freely as
he did before he left home.

I wrote the above last Saturday,
and the next day such a ridiculous
thing happened, and in the meeting-
house, too ! The whole thing sounds
rather irreverent, but as nothing of
the sort was intended, I '11 venture to
tell you about it. The leader of our
choir is a man of very decided opin-
ions and speech, who not infrequently
is involved in a wordy combat with
any one who ventures to disagree
with his expressed views. But he
and John Marden were old-time foes.
The}' had been rivals in politics, at
county fairs, and even in singing —
for each claimed to possess the best
voice in town. Well, after a long
illness, Mr. Marden died last week,
and was buried from the meeting-
house last Sunday. Parson Potte^
preached the funeral sermon, in which
he dwelt strongly upon the resurrec-
tion, and the hymns agreed in senti-
ment with the subject of the dis-
course. You must know that our
choir leader always reads aloud one
verse of a hymn, which the choir
sing, then another is read and sung,
and so on through the entire hymn.

Sunday, the closing hymn was an-

nounced, and the choir were all
ready to sing, when the}- were dis-
abled b}' their leader's reading ^ in
his sonorous voice and with his pe-
culiar pronunciation, "Believing we
rejoice to see the cicss removed"!
The effect, though overwhelming,
was hardly what the occasion called
for, for it nearly wrecked the gravity
of the choir and young people of the
congregation. Then the leader was
so blissfully unconscious of having
given any occasion for mirth, that his
solemn visage added to the effect of
what he had read, while the belliger-
ent relations which everybody knew
had existed between him and Mr. M.,
made his unfortunate pronunciation
of "curse," sound like a jubilation.
The choir tried to sing and failed ;
only after a second attempt did they
manage to get through that hymn, —
hou\ they will never know.

Mar}- and Charlie, Joseph and I
went home together, and as soon as
we were far enough away from the
meeting-house to dare to do so, we
fairly shouted with the laughter
which we had had to stifle until
then. We did not intend any dis-
respect to the occasion or the sub-
ject of it when we decided that Mr.
Marden's funeral was one of the
things that we should remember as
long as we live. That was the end
of Joe's dignity with me ; he came
home with us that night, and now
we are just as good friends as we
used to be.

Wed., 25.

' ' We four ' ' went to the beach
yesterday, and I had quite an ad-
venture. Charlie and Mary had
strolled off together and left Joseph

POLLY TUCKER.

and me by oiu'selves. From the
cliff at the sands we went down onto
a big boulder to watch the surf break
against it. The tide was coming in,
and as we sat there talking and look-
ing off to sea, it got behind the rock
on which we were, without our no-
ticing it. There is only a narrow
passage connecting this rock with
the rest of the cliff, even at low tide,
and when the tide is in, the whole
thing is under water. Every mo-
ment increased the depth of water
through which we must pass to reach
the cliff, and what we should do I
knew not ! Joe could wade, but
what could I do ?

"There's only one way, Poll3\"
said Joseph. "I can easily carry you
across if you will let me."

He looked as if he half expected
that I would refuse, but I was only
too glad to get off any way. "Of
course you may, if you will be so
kind, Joe, — but I warn you I 'm no
fairy."

" I 'm glad of it," he replied as he
hastily took me in his strong arms,
" I 'd much rather carry you than
the fairy queen herself."

Well done, Joe ! That was quite
a pretty speech to make in the mid-
dle of a pond, with a hundred and
no-matter-what pounds in your arms !
After a good deal of splashing on
Joe's part, and of clinging on mine,
we landed at last upon the cliff and
sat down to get breath — or for Joe to.

"What did I tell you?" I cried;
"own up, now, that you were thankful
to put me down before you dropped
me — which you would have had to
do if the cliff had l)een two rods
further off ! "

"Indeed, I shall own up to noth-
ing of the kind," he answered ; " but

I a/// thankful that I could be of use
to you, Polly."

He was dripping wet, and red in
the face from his exertions, but he
did look so earnest and honest that
I had to laugh at the funny figure
we cut, in order to hide my real feel-
ings. Just then Charlie and Mary
came along, and Charlie sent Joe
home across the fields to get rid of
his wet clothes as soon as possible,
and I went home with them. I never
saw any one so much changed for the
better in the same length of time as
Joe is ! He is very gentlemanly, yet
he is as genuine and honest as ever.

Mon., Sept. 30.

Joe came up to our house the day
after we went wading together, and
we went for a long walk ; since then
he has been here nearly all of the
time. It is wonderful how a little
contact with the world improves one,
and Joe really seems to me of more
consequence,, better worth liking,
since he has had some of the angles
of his manner smoothed off, than he
was before he left home. I suppose
it is foolish of me to feel so, but I.
can't help it, — I think I shall always
value polish and culture quite enough,
in spite of the sharp lesson which my
love of them brought me.

But I want to tell you about a cer-
tain happening which took place yes-
terday- afternoon, Sunday. Joe and I
had just come in from a walk, during
which he had been strangely silent.
We sat in silence for a few moments,
I, meantime, wondering if he were ill
or troubled about anything, when he
said, —

''Polly, do ^•ou remember the night
of the quilting part}- at Mary's and a
certain question which I asked you
then? I wish I dared to ask it again,

358

POLLY TUCKER.

but if I cannot have your love, I dare
not risk losing your friendship a sec-
ond time. Polly, the hope of some
da}' calling you mine has been my
inspiration ever since our school- days,
and I don't know how to separate it
from my life. I see now what a pre-
mature thing my former proposal to
\'ou was, and, too, it came to you at
a time when you were least ready to
listen. What was I, to compare my-
self with the rich, elegant Mr. Ladd?
You naturally were pleased with his
evident admiration of you, and the
sight of that maddened me, I think,
and led me into the folly of our first
and only quarrel. Bitterty do I regret
it, and alway.s shall. Before I go away
again I want to ask you that if you
ever feel that you can give me the love
which I crave more than any earthly
good, will you let me know of it?
Until then I shall wait and hope and
try to be worthy of so great a blessing."

Tears filled my eyes, and I knew
then that the love which he sought
was his. As if by inspiration, I rec-
ognized the fact that Joe had always
had my affection, though my fancy
was dazzled by Alfred's refinement
and genial manner. Then, too, I
think it was necessary for me to be
shown the hollowness of those char-
acteristics, unless combined with gen-
uine principle.

All this passed rapidly through my
mind while Joe waited, — and when I
looked up and gave him my hand he
needed no other answer. The foolish
fellow could hardly believe that the
boon which he craved and expected
to wait for, was already his. I told
him all my story, hard as it was to
do .so, and I am glad there is nothing
now to hide,— that there is no cling-
ing to the ghost of former fancies. I

told him all, and in reply he folded
his arms about me and held me
closel}', as if to tell me by that mute
language in which heart speaks to
heart, that in future my troubles
would be his, and that none should
annoy me that he could shield me
from. I thank the great Giver for
the gift of this true, sincere affection,
which takes me as I am, faults, fol-
lies, and all. Now that my foolish
longing for things out of my reach
is over, I realize that His hand has
led me, if by ways that I knew not,
surely and safely to green pastures
and by still waters. And .so our
future is settled, and Father, Charlie,
and Mary are overjoj-ed. I am so
quietly happy, .so bli.ssfully content,
that I know that the woman's love of
my life has been given to my old
schoolmate and tried friend. There
are no doubts, no uncertainties, only
a restful happiness. Very different
is it from the glow of gratified ambi-
tion and the fervor of worshipful ad-
miration which Alfred called forth,
and which in my inexperience I mis-
took for love. I am glad it is differ-
ent, — I am more truly happy now.

Then there is the added satisfac-
tion of knowing that I am doing ju.st
as my dear mother would have me,
and that thought alone is sufficient
to make me satisfied and at rest.

Our home will be in Boston, for
Joseph is now junior partner in his
uncle's business house. Tt was
with the idea of training him for a
place which his own son would have
succeeded to, had he lived, that his
uncle took Joseph with him. Joseph
has talked with Father, and told him
all about his business pro.spects, and
that he would like to take me to my
new home as soon as possi])le. vSo as

POLLY TUCKER.

359

Charlie and Mary are to be married
New Year's and will come here to
live, it was finally decided that a
double wedding would l)e specialh^
appropriate, as we four have been
such close friends from childhood.
Joseph and I have tried our best to
induce Father to live with us, but he
says, " No, this is my home, and it
would be as hard to make grass grow
in the middle of the street as for an
old farmer to feel at home in the
city.". Charlie and Mary are only
too glad to keep him with them at
the old home, so Joseph and I will
have to be contented with the long
visits which he promises to make us.
Now that there is an immediate pros-
pect of my leaving the old home for
good, I realize how dear it is to me.
I have rebelled against its lack of
society and its various limitations,
but the little town has many attrac-
tions for me in the dear friends who
have been kind to me alwaj-s, and I
cannot leave them without regret.

And now, my friend, I have come
to you to say good-by. I have filled
3'our pages with a record of my girl-
ish life and experiences bright and
sad, and now that my girl-life is
ended, I shall write no more here.
There is much in your keeping that
is sacred to me, and so I am going to
hide you away where no one but my-
self will ever be likely to find you ;
then when I come back to the old
home, from time to time, I shall be
glad to review the past as you pre-
sent it to me.

You have been a great solace to
me, and such a dear, discreet friend
that it is very liard for me to realize
that you are not a fnoiuvi friend. P>e
sure that I shall never cease to think

of you with affection, even though I
troulile you no more with confi-
dences, and, \\\\ dear old diary, if
}ou can remember, — pray do not, —
do not forget your own little Poll}'
Tucker.

I have read on and on until 1 have
finished the story, and it has taken
great hold of my interest and sym-
pathy. It is a simple tale of a .simple
life, lived bravelj^ and with womanly
strength and fortitude. In fancy, I
.see Polly going about the house, en-
gaged in household tasks, while she
sighed for the wider culture and asso-
ciations of a city life ; then I see her
stifling her own longings that she
may give her whole heart to the care
of her invalid mother, and her brave
renunciation of self to do her duty by
her sorrowing father, — and, lastly,
the happy Polly who gave her hand,
her heart, and her disciplined life
into the keeping of one eminently
worthy of the trust.

The spinning-wheel must have
.stood over in that corner ; on this
very hearth she and Mr. Ladd
roasted the "Apples of Fate" before
the glowing coals, while across the
entry in the parlor stood the .spinet,
and there Pollv and Mr. Ladd sans:
together.

After all the inten^ening years this
little l)ook has power to repeople
the.se old rooms with those who have
long since passed

" Beyond the smiling and the \vce])ing-."

The fire has burned low, and the em-
l)ers blink like sleepy eyes, — the cor-
ner where Polly s])nn is in deep
.shadow, and all things suggest that
I follow the exani])le of the fire and
sav — Ciood-niuht.

[7//, ,V/r/.J

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

' ea rly

By Clarence Moores Weed.

THE peopling of the and a portion of Newmarket. Lee

ancient O^-ster River was separated into a town in 1766,

parish began more than and the portion of Newmarket was

turned over to that town in 1870.

Durham appears to have received
its present name at the suggestion of
the Rev. Hugh Adams, one of the
early ministers. "The name may
have been chosen in order to com-

two h u n d r e d and fifty

years ago. At least as

as 1640, families were

luing along the river, the set-

'\ tlement then being a part of

\ the ' ' infant plantation ' ' of Do-

ver, which was then an independent memorate the palatine form of gov-

republic, but which placed itself
under the government of Massachu-
.'^etts, April 14, 1641. The river
was named from some oyster beds
found near its mouth, which fur-

erument originally accorded to the
New Hampshire settlement, if credit
is to be given to the so-called charter
of Charles I. to Capt. John Mason,
August 19, 1635, granting him the

nished the earl}- settlers with these province of New Hampshire, ' with
mussels. powder of government and as ample

The town was known as the Oyster jurisdiction and prerogatives as used
River Plantation or the Oyster River by the bishop of Durham.' The
Precinct for nearly a century,
the line of division between it
and 'Dover proper having been
establi.shed in 1657. It was
made a separate ])ari,sh in 1 7 1 6,
and became an incorporated
township with its present name
by legislative act in 1732.

Durham, as then incorpo-
rated, was considerably larger
than at present ; it included

what is now the town of Lee site of Pascataqua Bndge.

., <•

'^>iU.

'iJM^^.

Z6:

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

Old Durham — The Sullivan Store.

bishops of Durham, England, it will
be remembered, formerly exercised
the semi-regal powers of a count pal-
atine. It does not appear, however,
that Captain Mason or his heirs ever
attempted to exercise such preroga-
tives in New Hampshire." '

The village continued to grow
slowly for nearly a century after its
incorporation. During part of this
period, it was of considerable impor-
tance as a centre of trade by land
and water. It was on the main road
from Boston and Concord to Ports-
mouth and Dover. In 1794, the
Pascataqua bridge, connecting Dur-
ham and Portsmouth, through New-
ington, was built, and had an impor-
tant bearing on the trade of the town.
This bridge, nearly half a mile long,
was a remarkable structure for the
time. It remained in good condition
until i<S30, when it gave way; but it
was repaired and continued in use
until 1855, when so serious a break

occurred that it was
not thought advisable
to repair it. At pres-
ent onl}' a few timbers
mark the site. The
displacement of stages
by the railroads, the
decline of ship-build-
ing, and other causes,
led to the gradual de-
crease of business in
Durham, so that early
in this century it became a quiet
farming village. In 1S93, the New
Hampshire College of Agriculture
and the Mechanic Arts was moved
from Hanover to Durham by the

Relics of Pascataqua Bridge.
' Mary I'. Tlionipson.

Gen John Sullivan.

state, in acceptance of the Thomp-
son bequest, and the ancient town
entered upon a new stage of its
growth. Already the effect has been
to increase greatly the number of
houses and to add a group of noble
buildings to a part of the town before
only partially occupied.

In the present paper I can make
no attempt at an adecpiate treatment
of the town ; but shall try only to in-
dicate some of the more important
traditions connected with its history,
and to descril)e Ijriefl}- the most sali-

THE TOWN OF niKlIAM.

363

The Sullivan Slave House.

eut u-atural features of the region.
Throughout the article I shall draw-
largely from published writings, in
which the town is rich ; and desire
here to acknowledge my obligations
for the use of illustrations to the edi-
tors of the Ncic Hampshire College
Monthly Miss Mary E. Smith, and
Messrs. Hall, Hawes, Howard, Par-
sons, Russell, Shaw, and Thompson.

" The character of a place," writes
Stevenson, "is often most perfectly
expressed in its as.sociations. An
event strikes root and grows
into a legend." So it happens
that every old town in Europe
or America has about it a se-
ries of traditions which express
the character of the people who
have madfe its history. In such
traditions one is sure to find
dominant traits of the race, for
that which most appeals to the
imagination of the pa.ssing gen-
erations will be preserved, while
other portions of the original
story are likely to be lost. The
traditions of Durham are rich
in historic incident, as well as
varied in character. Ihit they
speak authoritatively of a brave
and manly race.

The most glorious of Dur-
ham traditions, vet more than

tradition, being well authenti-
cated history, is that of the ini-
tial act of the American Rev-
olution. To know that in this
quiet village was organized the
first corps of armed men who
dared openly to attack the forces
of his British majesty, that these
men ])roceeded down the river
and bay to Fort William and
Mary, which they captured, and
from which the}- carried awa>- a
large amount of powder, at a time
when throughout the colonies the
people were chafing under the Brit-
ish yoke, but none before had dared
to rise in opposition, is to thrill with
pride in being a citizen — native or
adopted — of this ancient parish. All
honor to the memory of John Sulli-
van, whose ancestors for generations
had known the yoke of oppression,
who so clearly saw the necessity of
freedom for the American people,
and who bravelv led the first assault

The Sullivan iVIonument.

364

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

upon the withholders of that free-
dom.

On December 12, 1774, the Massa-
chusetts Committee of Safety sent
Paul Revere to Portsmouth and Dur-
ham to notify SulHvan and others
that the importation of arms or
ammunition into the colonies had
been prohibited I:)}' the king, and
that the fort in Portsmouth harbor
was soon to be occupied by two regi-
ments from Boston. Revere reached
Sullivan's hou.se December 13. The
advantages of immediate action in
.securing the munitions of war at the
fort before it was occupied by the
king's soldiers were seen by Sulli-
van. To men of his calibre, to know
what is best to do is to do it. "I
was working for Major Sullivan,"
said Eleazer Bennett, years after-
ward, "when Micah Davis came up
and told me Major Sullivan wanted
me to go to Portsmouth, and to get
all the men I could to go with him.
The men who went, as far as I can
remember, were Major John vSulli-
van, Capt. Winborn Adams, liben-
ezer Thompson, John Demeritt, Al-
pheus and Jonathan Chcsley, John
vSpencer, Micah Davis, Isaac and
Benjamin vSmall, of Durham ; Hben-
ezer Sullivan, Captain lyangdon, and
Thomas Pickering, of Portsmouth ;
John Griffin, James Underwood, and
Alexander Scammell. We took a
gondola belonging to Benjamin
Mathes, who was too old to go, and
went down the river to Portsmouth.
It was a clear, cold, moonlight night.
We sailed down to the fort at the
mouth of Pa.scataqua Harbor. The
water was so shallow that we could
not bring the boat to within a rod of
the shore. We waded through the
water in perfect silence, mounted

the fort, surprised the garri.son, and
bound the captain. In the fort, we
found one hundred casks of powder,
and one hundred small arms, which
we brought down to the boat. In
wading through the water, it froze
upon us." '

This powder was stored in the
Durham meeting-house, and .soon
after was carried by John Demeritt
and others to Boston, where it ar-
rived just in time to be of service at
Bunker Hill.

Sullivan and his associates were
proclaimed traitors by the Royalists,
and according to a tradition, which
at least is in accord with his char-
acter, Sullivan and his comrades
burned their royal commissions in
the public square. This story has
been doubted, but .so far as I can
learn, no Thomas has produced the
commissions to show that they were
not burned.

A great man always impresses his
personalit}' upon the community in
which he lives. This is especially
true of men of heroic mould, whose
actions appeal to the natural instincts
of the race. So we find the town
rich in Sullivan traditions, for Gen-
eral Sullivan was essentially a man
of action. One of the most delight-
ful of these relates to his mother.
On the boat, when as a buxom Irish
girl .she was coming to America, one
asked her what she was going to do
among the people of the colonies.
" Raise governors for them, to be
sure," was the ready reply— a proph-
ecy more true than such gasconades
are wont to be. John Sullivan's fa-
ther "saw the girl as .she landed, and
struck with her beauty, made a bar-

' Recorded by Hiillard Smith, Ihn [<n 'i Mutillily,
July, 1SS6.

THE TOWN OF lU'hW/.l.U.

365

gain with the captain, paying her
passage in shingles." They were
married, antl immediately settled on
a farm in Berwick, Maine.

Another tradition relates to Sulli-
van's arrival in Durham. Ivawyers
apparently were not welcomed to vil-
la2:e communities at that time. When
the young lawyer came from Ports-
mouth to settle in Durham, the yeo-
manry threatened to prevent him by
physical means. But none of them
dared ±0 offer him a single-handed
fight, and so his brother, apparently
of less powerful frame, was substi-
tuted. The brother was victorious,
and John Sullivan became a citizen
of the village.

Sullivan kept a few slaves in the
small house still standing in the rear
of his home.

"Old Noble, a shiny-faced, bugle-
hpped, full-blooded African, who
lived to so late a period that the
oldest inhabitant still remembered
him, was an especial favorite. He
used often to row his master down
the river to Portsmouth, some thir-
teen miles away. One day the Gen-
eral was in a hurry, and told Noble
he would give him a crown if he
would land him in Portsmouth in
just two hours.

'"Golly, I'll do it, Massa ! ' said
the black, his eyes rolling in joyful
anticipation of the reward.

" They started down the river. No-
ble pulling with all his might. It
was a cool autumn 'day, but the ne-
gro perspired as though it was in
July. Four miles above Portsmouth
city he rowed to the shore.

"'What does this mean, Noble?'
a.sked Sullivan.

" ' Means that I 'se right down glad
we are in Portsmouth,' replied the

sable gentleman, holding forth his
hand for the crown.

"Noble was a mighty oarsman,
but neither he nor any one else could
have rowed to Portsmouth wharf" in
two hours. Thus he outwitted his
master.'

The name of Alexander Scammell
is still dear to the memory of the
people of Durham. Associated with
Sullivan in his law ofl&ce before the
Revolution, he became one of the
leaders in the memorable conflict.
As Mr. Colby has said,— " A blaze
of romance surrounds the memory of
this young hero. He was the knight,
without reproach and without fear, of
the Revolution. He was brave, chiv-
alrous, and able. There was no no-
bler looking man in the army. In
stature he was just the height of
the commander-in-chief, six feet and
two inches, and he was proportioned
as symmetrically as an Apollo. Fea-
tures of the Roman cast gave dignity
and martial ardor to his countenance.
His steel-blue eyes blazed in all the
hardest-fought contests of the Revo-
lution."

He became Washington's adju-
tant-general, was wounded at York-
town, and died at the age of thirty-
three, October 6, 1781. "The esteem
in which he was held by his brother
officers is amply illustrated by the
fact that when Dafayette was on his
last visit to this country, at a large
gathering of Revolutionary veterans,
the noble Marquis proposed as a
toast, ' To the memory of Yorktown
vScammell,' which was vociferously
drank."

The garrisons of the ancient Oyster
river parish receive special mention
in early New iMigland history. Be-

1 F. M. Colby, Granite Monthly, Vol. V, p. 24.

366

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

Home of the late Mary P. Thompson

fore 1694 there were at least fourteen
of these houses of refuge and defense.
Ten of them were along the river,
below the village, and the other four
were on neighboring hills. The most
complete account of these garrisons
that I have been able to find is in
Miss Thompson's " Ivandmarks," in
which the}' are de.scribed under the
following names : ( i ) The Header
garrison, (2) the Davis garrison, (3)
Smith's garrison, (4) Bunker's gar-
rison, (5) the Jones garrison, (6)
Beard's garrison, (7) Woodman's
garrison, (8) Huckins's garrison,
(9) the Burnham garrison, (10)
Drew's garrison, (11) the Adams
garri.son, (12) Bickford's garrison,

Old Garrison at Lubberland.

(13) the Edgerly garrison, (14) Cxod-
dard's garrison.

Very few of these house forts — so
rich in traditions of bravery and suf-
fering — yet remain. One of the most
noted, the Woodman garrison, was
destroyed by fire only a few mouths
ago. It was, as Miss Thompson said,
"beautifully situated on the eastern
slope of a hill, at the head of Beard's
creek, with brooks and deep ravines
at every side of the acclivity except
at the west. It has a fine outlook
for an approaching enemy, as well
as a charming view in every direc-
tion, except in the rear where the
rise of land intercepts the prospect.
Durham village, which did not exist
when this garrison was built, lies at
the south, in full view, embosomed
among the trees ; and at the east
may be traced the windings of Oyster
river on its way to the Pascataqua.
At the north, through an opening be-
tween the hills, can be seen the spot
where the Huckins garrison stood ;
and nearer at hand, but separated
from it by a profound ravine, is the
field where occurred the massacre of
1689. This garrison was built by
Capt. John Woodmau, who came to
Oyster river as early as 1657, and
in 1660 had a grant of twenty
acres between the lands of William
Beard and Valentine Hill, with
vStony brook on the south, appar-
ently the very land where he built
his garrison. He had a captain's
conuuission before 1690, which was
renewed by the Massachusetts gov-
ernment that year, and again l)y
Governor U.sher, of New Hamp-
shire, in 1692. His garrison vinder-
went more than one attack from the
Indians, and seems to have been
manned in j^art by government

'I III', voir.y or dcriiam.

367

soldiers. Woodnuin's garrison is one
of the most interesting monnnients of
early times in the state. Unfor-
tunately, it is no longer in possession
of the family. The last owner of the
name was Prof. John I. Woodman, of
Dartmouth college. After his death
it was sold by his widow, together
with the adjacent land, that for more
than two hundred years had been
owned by the Woodman family."

The most gruesome Durham leg-
ends relate to the early days of the
Indian massacres of the inhabitants
of these garrisons. Traditions of the
times have been handed down in
nearly every family, for to a remark-
able extent the earl}- settlers are still
represented here by their descend-
ants. The most frightful of these,
and the only one space will permit
me here to relate, is that of the mas-

Upper End of College Reservoir.

These garrisons were vSituated upon
hilltops, where approaching enemies
could be seen. Each of them is rich
in traditions — of heroism, often of
martyrdom — of those rude times when
to live in Durham was to be in con-
stant peril of one's life. It is diffi-
cult to imagine our* peaceful hillsides
the haunt of painted murderers, or to
realize that not so ver}- long ago the
tongue of village gossip could wag
about the strenuous exploits of men
in deadly peril, rather than the mod-
ern inanities regarding happenless
events.

sacre of 1694. The Oyster River set-
tlement was selected by the Sieur de
Villieu and his associates for special
attack, the details of which have
been recorded by Belknap.

' ' The enemy approached the place
undiscovered, and halted near the
falls, on Tuesday evening, July 17,
1694. Here they formed into two
divisions, one of which was to go on
each side ol the river and plant them-
selves in ambush, in small parties,
near ever\- house, so as to be ready
for the attack at the rising of the
sun, the first gun to be the signal.

368

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

Packer's Falls.

"John Dean, whose house stood
by the sawmill at the falls, intending
to go from home very early, arose
before the dawn of day, and was shot
as he came out of his door. This
firing, in part, disconcerted their
plan ; several parties who had some
distance to go, had not then arrived
at their stations ; the people in gen-
eral were immediately alarmed ; some
of them had time to make their es-
cape, and others to prepare for their
defense. The signal being given,
the attack began in all parts where
the enemy was ready.

' ' Of the twelve garrisoned houses
five were destroyed, viz., Adams's,
Drew's, Edgerley's, Medar's, and
Beard's. They entered Adams's
without resistance, where they killed
fourteen persons; one of them, being
a woman with child, they ripped
open. The grave is .still to be seen
in which they were all buried. Drew
surrendered his garrison on the prom-
ise of security, but was murdered
when he fell into their hands ; one
of his children, a boy nine years old,
was made to run through a lane of
Indians, as a mark for them to throw
their hatchets at, till they had dis-
patched him. Edgerley's was evacu-
ated ; the people took to their boat.

MMH| and one of them was mor-
jm^^l tally wounded before they
IB got out of reach of the
enemy's shot. Beard's and
Medar's were also evacu-
ated, and the people es-
caped.
a^ ' ' The defenseless houses

^^ were nearly all set on fire,
the inhabitants being
either killed or taken in
them, or else in endeav-
oring to escape to the
garrisons. Some escaped by hiding
in bushes and other secret places.
Thomas Edgerley, by concealing him-
self in his cellar, preserved his house,
though twice set on fire. The house
of John Buss, the mini.ster, was de-
stroyed with a valuable librar}-. He
was absent, but his wife and family
fled to the woods and escaped. The
wife of John Dean, at whom the first
gun was fired, was taken with her
daughter and carried about two
miles up the river, where they were
left under the care of an old Indian
while the others returned to their
bloody work. The Indian com-
plained of a pain in his head, and
asked the woman what would be a
proper remedy. She answered, ' Oc-
capee,' which is the Indian word for

^*ir '

From Wheelright's Pond.

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

369

rum, of which she knew he had taken captives. Thomas Bickford pre-

a bottle from her house. The rem- serv^ed his house in a singular man-

edy being agreeable, he took a large ner. It was situated near the river

dose and fell asleep ; and she took and surrounded with a palisade. Be-

that opportunity to make her escape
with her child into the woods, and
kept concealed till they were gone.

"The other seven garrisons, viz.,
Burnham's, Bickford's, vSmith's, Bun-
ker's, Davis's, Jones's,
and Woodman's, were
resolutel}' and success-
fully defended. At
Burnham's the gate
was left open. The
Indians, ten in num-
ber, who were ap-
pointed to surprise it
were asleep under the
bank of the river at
the time that the alarm
was given. A man
within, w^ho had been
kept awake by a tooth-
ache, hearing the first
gvm, roused the people
and secured the gate,
just as the Indians,
who were awakened by
the same noise, were
entering. Finding
themselves disappoint-
ed, they ran to Pit-
man's defenseless
house, and forced the
door at the moment
that he had burst away through that
end of the house which was next the
garrison, to which h*e with his family,
taking advantage of the shade of some
trees, it being moonlight, happily es-
caped. Still defeated, they attacked
the house of John Davis, which after
some resistance, he surrendered on
terms ; but the terms were violated
and the whole famih- killed or made

From the Flower Garden

alarmed before the enemy had
reached the house, he sent off his
family in a boat, and then shutting
his gate betook himself alone to the
defense of his fortress. Despising
alike the promises and
threats by which the
Indians w o u 1 d h a \- e
persuaded him to sur-
render, he kept up a
constant fire at them,
changing his dress as
often as he could,
showing himself wnth
a different cap, hat, or
coat, and sometimes
without either, and giv-
ing directions aloud as
if he had a number of
men with him. Poind-
ing their attempt in
vain, the enemy with-
drew and left him sole
master of the house
which he had defended
w i t h such admirable
address. Smith's, Bun-
ker's, and Davis's gar-
risons, 1j e i n g season-
ably apprised of the
danger, were resolutely
defended. One In-
dian was supposed to be killed and
another wounded by a .shot from
Davis's. Jones's garrison was beset
before day. Captain Jones, hear-
iuCT his dogs bark and imagining
wolves might be near, went out to
secure some swine and returned un-
molested. He then went up into the
flank art and sat on the wall. Dis-
cerning the flash of a gun, he dropped

370

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

backward ; the ball entered the place
from whence he had withdrawn his
legs. The enemy from behind a rock
kept firing on the house for some
time and then quitted it. During
these transactions, the French priest
took possession of the meeting-house,
and employed himself in writing on
the pulpit with chalk ; but the house
received no damage.

"Those parties of the eneni}- who

A Bouquet of Elms

were on the south side of the river,
having completed their destructive
work, collected in a field adjoining to
Burnham's garrison, where they in-
sultingly showed their prisoners and
derided the jjeople, thinking them-
selves out of reach of their shot. A
young man from the sentry-box fired
at one who was making some inde-
cent signs of defiance and wounded
him in the heel ; him they placed on
a horse and carried away. Both
divisions then met at the falls where
they had parted the evening before,
and proceeded together to Captain
Woodman's garrison. The ground
being uneven, they approached with-
out danger, and from behind a liill
kept up a long and severe fire at the
hats and caps which the people with-
in held lip on sticks above the walls,
without any other damage than in-
juring the roof of the house. At
length, apprehending that it was

time for the people in the neighbor-
ing settlements to be collected in
pursuit of them, they finally with-
drew, having killed and captured be-
tween ninet}^ and a hundred per-
sons, and burned aliout twenty
houses, of which five were garrisons.
The main body of them retreated
over Winnipiseogee Lake, where
they divided their prisoners, sep-
arating those in particular who were
most intimately connected, in which
they often took a pleasure suited to
their savage nature."

The following account of the earl}-
hi.story of the Congregational church
in Durham was prepared by Mr. Lu-
cien Thompson :

' ' Durham was formerly a part of
Dover, and under the laws of the
province, its citizens were compelled
to pay taxes for the erection of meet-
ing-houses and parsonages and for
the support of the ministry. The
residents of Oyster River .settlement
found it a hardship to travel to Dover
neck every I^ord's day, crossing the
Bellamy river and climbing to the
little meeting-house on the hill, and
after about twenty years had elapsed
from the first settlement at Oy.ster
river, they succeeded in having the
town of Dover sustain a minister at
Oj'vSter river; and in 1655 a meeting-
house was built south of the river,
and the next year, a parsonage. Rev.
Edward Fletcher preached a >-ear
and returned to Ivngland in 1657.
For several years they did not em-
ploy a minister, and were then re-
quired by Dover to aid in the sup-
port of the Do\'er ministry. This
they objected to doing, and, after a
long contention, the mill rents and
rate for the su])port of the ministr\'
were nuitualh' arranued in 1660.

THE TOWN OF DriULlM.

371

"In 1662, we fnid Rev. Joseph
Hull was acting as pastor. He was
born in 1594, in England, graduated
at vSt. Mary's Hall, Oxford, in 1614,
l)egan preaching in 1621, and subse-
quently came to Oy.ster river. I^ater,
he removed to the Isles of Shoals,
where he died November 19, 1665.

" It was agreed in 1675 that two of
the selectmen should be chosen from
Oyster river. Under this arrange-
ment, the people for many years had
their own minister, who was paid by
the town of Dover, but with taxes
imposed upon the 03\ster River peo-
ple for that purpOvSe.

"John Buss was both physician
and minister. He was born in 1640,
and it does not appear that he was
ever ordained. He was at Wells,
Maine, in 1672, and seems to have
remained there until near 1684, when
he probably located at Oyster river.
He lost his house and valuable
library in the great Indian and
French massacre of 1694, when
nearly a hundred of his parishioners
were killed or carried into captivity.
An ancient landmark, ' Parson
Bu.ss's Pulpit,' on the .sovith side of
Oyster river, will ever recall memo-
ries of this preacher. He died in
1736.

"A meeting-house was erected
about 1715, upon the spot where the

A Lily Garden.

A Tulip Garden,

one built in 1792 was afterwards
located.

"The act of the legislature, Mav
4, 1 7 16, made the Oyster River par-
ish distinct from Dover, and, as the
natural result, the organization of
the church and settlement of a minis-
ter soon followed.

"Rev. Hugh Adams came to this
parish in 17 16, and on August 7 of
the next year purchased the resi-
dence now known as the ' General
Sullivan house.' His ministry con-
tinvied in this place vintil dismis.sed
by the council Januarj- 23, 1739. He
died in 1750, aged seventy-four.
From the records, it appears that
more than a hundred persons besides
the ten who organized the church be-
came members during his mini.stry.

"Rev. Nicholas Oilman, a native
of Exeter, New Hampshire, was or-
dained at Durham, March 3, 1742.
He continued as pastor until his
death, April 13, 1748.

"Rev. John Adams was a son of
Matthew Adams of Boston, and a
nephew^ of Rev. Hugh Adams. In
his l)oyh()0(l, iM-anklin was loaned
l)ooks l)y Matthew Adams, a fa\-or
which he gratefully acknowledges in
liis memoirs. Wax . John Adams in-
herited his father's literary style, his
scientific habit of thought, and had

372

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

Rev. Curtis Coe.

besides great mechanical and musical
ability. He was educated at Har-
vard College, graduating in 1745.
His ministry commenced in 1748, but
the stipulated salary of five hundred
pounds, old tenor, with the use of
the parsonage property, was to com-
mence on March 25, 1749. Probably
this was the date of his ordination
and settlement. When opposition to
the encroachments of England on the
liberties of the colonists began to
manifest itself, he took a decided
part in the strife and early predicted
that the general unrest of the col-
onies would end in war, and their
severance from the mother country.
He was among the foremost to advo-
cate the cause of American liberty.
"Rev. Curtis Coe was preaching
at Durham as early as August 18,
1779, and ordained and installed No-
vember I, 1780. He resigned liis
pastorate and finished his lal)ors in
Durham, May i, 1806, and became a

home missionary in the remote parts
of New Hampshire and Maine. He
died in Newmarket, June 7, 1829,
leaving many descendants, among
them the late Richard C. Coe, who
made a bequest to this church, and
Joseph W. Coe, at the present time a
mend:)er of the church and society.

"The meeting-house erected in
I7i5-'i6 was torn down, and a larger
one erected upon the same site in
1792, where the Sullivan monument
now stands.

" Up to this time (1806) the pastor
of the church had been supported by
the town, but this method of support
continued no longer. For many
years the church drifted along with-
out a pastor, most of the time declin-
ing in members and strength.

" Rev. Federal Burt commenced to
preach in Durham, June, 18 14. He
was born in vSouthampton, Mass.,
March 4, 1789. (That is why he
was called ' Federal.') 'The church
then had but two acting male mem-
bers, and one of these was almost
superannuated.' His ministry was
one of great prosperity to the church,
probably surpassing any before it.
Darge additions were made as the
fruit of a revival in 1826.

"There are now living, persons
who remember the old meeting-house
on Broth hill. A former resident
writes : _ 'What a spacious affair it
was, wit^i^ its galleries all around, its

In the Gloaming.

THE TOWN Of nrRHAM.

A ^ '^

■Hi

T^ J ^^^.

ffji \ . i '. ( jf^

.JaJJti^B

a' V 'r> I tm

. i^SHHSR^

^^^^^^^^I^OnF

r -

The Ebenezer Thompson Homestead.

square pews, seats on hiuges, high
pulpit up. a long flight of stairs, the
sounding-board over the pulpit just
back of the preacher, printed in gilt
lettere on a green ground the fourth
verse of the one hundredth psalm.'
He describes also how Rev. Federal
Burt used to go up these stairs, robed
in his black silk surplice." '

After Mr. Burt there followed Rev-
erends Robert Page, Alvin Tobey,
who preached here from 1831 to 1871,
lyaurens Talbot, Samuel H. Barnum,
Charles H. Chapin, and Oliver D.
Sewall. The church has just ex-
tended a call to Mr. Beard of Con-
necticut. The present meeting-house
was built in i848-'49, and has re-
cently been enlarged and in part
remodeled.

The rejuvenation of Durham is
due to the high-minded purpose
fixed throughout a long life of one o^
her recent citizens. Indeed, it ria)
fairly be said that this latest per^^ d cf
growth is but the natural develop-
ment of principles and purposes
which for two centuries have ani-
mated the generations of one of the
most distinguished Durham families.
At least as early as 1707, Robert
Thompson established himself as one
of the citizens of the Oyster River
settlement. He was a notable man.

brave in facing painted savages, ear-
nest in clearing the fields and estab-
lishing a home for wife and children,
and alive to the needs of the com-
nuinit\- in which he lived. It is sig-
nificant that he was one of the
signers of the petition for a license to
employ the first schoolmaster of Dur-
ham, as well as the privilege of
establishing a church in the village.
About 1722, Robert Thompson mar-
ried Abigail Emer.son, a woman of
historic as well as heroic lineage.
She was a niece of Hannah Dustin,
and was descended from distin-
guished families on both her father's
and her mother's side.

Five children were born to them.
The fourth was Ebenezer Thompson
— " incontestably the most eminent
man ever born in Durham" — who
became one of the most prominent
political leaders of New England
through the tr3-ing times between
1770 and 1800. "Holding, as he
did, all through the most critical
period of the Revolution, the three
important offices of councillor of
state, meml)er of committee of safetv.

Manual of the Dm liani Congregational Church.

Thompson Hall.

374

THE TOWN OF DC'RHAM.

The College Flower Gardens.

and secretary of state, besides minor
offices of town and court, and various
public commissions, it will be seen
that Ebenezer Thompson was b}- no
means an inactive statesman. After
the organization of the courts of law
under the constitution of the state in
1783, he was appointed clerk of the
court of common pleas in the county
of Strafford, which office he held till
vSeptember, 1787, when it was given
to his son Benjamin. In 1786 and
1787, he was the representative of
Durham in the General Assembly.
He was again chosen member of the
executive council in 1787 for one
year, and state senator in 1787 and

The Natural History Laboratory.

1788."' Various other important
offices fell to his lot during the re-
maining years of his life. '

The testimou}^ of Governor Plum-
er regarding the personalit}' of
Ebenezer Thompson, is of value in
.shownng the strong development of
the family traits. "He was a man
of much reading and general infor-
mation. His manners were simple,
plain, and unassuming. He had a
strong aversion to extravagance and
parade of every kind. LLsefulness
was the object of all his pursuits,
both in relation to himself and the
public. Though he never exhibited
a passion for wealth, yet by his fru-
gality and economy he sup-
ported his family and left
them a handsome estate.
He was a man of sound
judgment, retentive mem-
ory, and great decision of
character. He was distin-
guished for perseverance,
and never abandoned his
pursuit so long as he saw
a prospect of attaining his
object."

Judge Ebenezer Thomp-
son lett several children, of
whom one was Benjamin

' Memoir by Mary P. Thompson.

riih: rmvx of in-RiiAM.

■.->/■

Thompson, born in 1765. In
1794, the latter married Mary
Pickering of Newington. Of the
six children born to the family,
the fifth was named Benjamin.
This son inherited " among other
property his father's residence in
Durham, with neighboring lands,
and the so-called Warner farm,
originally a part of the Valentine
Hill grant at Oyster river."

This was the Benjamin Thomp-
son who changed the sleepy New
England village — " a good example of
the village that was," as an unpreju-
diced visitor described it some 3-ears
ago, — into a thriving college town.

The desire to establish a school,
where a practical education, espe-
cially in agriculture, should be of-
fered the 3'outh of New Hamp-
shire, evidently arose in the mind of
Benjamin Tnompson comparatively
early in his life. The American peo-
ple must have been going through a
very significant phase of their devel-
opment a half century ago. Here
and there throughout the older por-
tions of the country, earnest, thought-
ful men, whose occupations brought

The President's Residence.

The Q. T. V. Chapter House.

them in contact with the people, be-
gan to see that a greater diversity in
systems of education was needed ;
that a uniform grind of language
and mathematics selected the few at
the expense of the many ; and that
education should include the develop-
ment of all of the faculties.

Not long ago I visited, in a small
Illinois town, the home of Mr. Tur-
ner, who in the Middle West is called
the father of the movement for indus-
trial education. Between 1S50 and
i860, Mr. Turner spoke and w^rote
freely regarding the need for a new
education, and to his influence in
guiding the spirit of the people into
channels of practical u.se-
fulness the land-grant col-
leges are largely indebted.
In Michigan, a few earnest
leaders, seeing clearl}- the
public need, in the face of
virulent opposition, estab-
lished in 1856 an agricul-
tural college in the woods,
three miles from lyansing,
the new and dispopulous
capital. In \"ermont, the
idea was evidentl}' taking
root in the mind of our
revered Senator Morrill ;
while in New Hampshire

376

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

Benjamin Thompson, with the clear- ture," Mr. Thompson laid down no
headed persistence of the Thompson hard and fast rules for the mainte-
generations, was devoting his life to nance of the school, although very
the carrying out of the same ideal, justly offering some suggestions re-
Scattered throughout the country no garding its management. This por-
doubt there were many others bend- tion of the will closes with this pro-
phetic paragraph :

" I would also suggest the
propriety of applying to the
Congress of the United
States for a grant of land
in aid of this object ; and
in other ways to seek con-
tributions to promote the
usefulness and extend the
advantages of said school ;
and I believe that when the
vast benefit to be derived
from such teaching shall be
practically demonstrated,
similar schools will be mul-
tiplied in every state of this
great confederacy, their un-
bounded agricultural re-
vSources will be developed,
the national wealth and
power increased, the hap-
ing their energies to the realization piness of man, the honor of God,
of the same ideal, which was finally and the love of Christ promoted, and
embodied in the national land-grant the way be in some degree prepared
act of 1862. for the time when 'He shall judge

Benjamin Thompson's will be- among the nations and shall rebuke
queathing his property to his " native many people, and they shall beat their
state of New Hampshire forever, in swords into ploughshares and their
trust," for the establishing of "an spears into pruning hooks; nation
agricultural school" on his Warner shall not lift up sword against nation,
farm, is dated February 12, 1856, pre- neither shall they learn war any
cisely one year after the passage by more.' "

the legislature of Michigan of the act In 1874, a codicil to the will pro-
establishing the first agricultural col- vided that in case the state estab-
lege in America. With a far-seeing lished a College of Agriculture and
wisdom which appreciated the possi- the Mechanic Arts in acceptance of
bility that the will would probably go the act of 1862, the property might
into operation at a period so remote go to that institution, provided it be
that there might be "great advance- located in Durham,
nient in the knowledge of agricul- In acceptance of this bequest, the

The Library Building.

/■///•; voirx oi- ni'Rii.]}/.

?>ii

state erected four principal buildings,
namely, Thompson Hall, Conant
Hall, Nesmith Hall, and the shops,
into which the college moved in
1893. It has since then greatly in-
creased in the number of its students,
and forms an essential part of the
educational system of the state. It
offers courses in agriculture, me-
chanical and electrical engineering,
applied chemistry, and a general
science course. For the last three
years it has conducted a summer
school of science for teachers, which
this year is to be combined with the
summer institute conducted by the
state department of public instruc-
tion.

No account of the " higher life " of
Durham would be adequate which
did not include a mention of the pub-
lic library — an educational institu-
tion of the highest efficiency and use-
fulness. The library was started
some years ago under the auspices of
the Durham Library association, and
has recently been made a public in-
stitution through an agreement be-
tween the association and the town.

View in the Library.

An Autumn bcene.

There is now a well-selected list of
several thousand books, which is
judiciously increased each year by
purchases. The library is open every
Wednesday and Saturday afternoon,
the librarian, Miss Mary E. Smith,
generously giving her services, and
aiding the efficiency of the institu-
tion in every way. The library
building, owned by the association,
is pleasantly situated on the main
street. A view of it and of the inte-
rior of the library is shown herewith.
The drives of Durham and vicinity
have justly a local celebrity. The
country is rolling and diversified,
with gentle hills merging in perspec-
tive into charming bits of water scen-
ery. The roads wind
f_ i n a n d o u t a m o n g

■|il woods and vales, and

during the driving
season are lined with
a constant succession
of green and blossom-
ing vegetation. In
any direction the eye
will be rewarded for
its looking, but the
palm of landscape
beauty is easily won
by the Bay road
through ancient L,ub-
berland to Newmar-
ket. To drive over

378

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

this highwa5^ up hill and
down dale, with the ever-
changing vistas of the
islands, the water, and
the opposite shore, is in-
deed to enjo)' ' ' a piece of
travel."

To the visitor from the
more newly settled por-
tions of America one of
the strangest sights of
the older parts of New
England is that of the

Pines by the Reservoir.

tiny cemeteries which dot
the landscape in all direc-
tions. On every home-
stead are found the graves
of the successive genera-
tions of its occupants. At
first, one is tempted to
protest against this con-
stant presence of the great
company of those who
have gone before, but as
one becomes accustomed
to it, the feeling gradu-
ally wears away, until in
my own case I may con-
fess to an endearing sen-
timent for these minia-
ture cities of the dead.
To lie down for the last
time amid one's beloved,
un jostled by the bones of
strangers ; to return the

A Bit of Road

' ' agglutinated dust ' ' lit-
erally to the soil from
which it came ; to enter
upon the long rest amiid
the familiar scenes of in-
fancy, youth, and age, —
is to pay naturally man's
debt to his Creator.
Wandering in "wise pas-
siveness ' ' beside these
violet-covered graves, one
fancies silent voices mur-
muring, "Here were we

The Blue Flag.

A Mill Scene.

born, here we lived and
died, and our bodies are
transfigured in the petals
upon which 3'ou gaze."
And man's neglect but
makes these sepultures
the more attractive. No
travesty is so horrible as
the sight of withered
flowers upon an earthen
grave. It seems to sym-
bolize man's impotence in
.struggling against Nat-
ure. Yet left to herself, she
again.st whom we strive
soon covers the bare
earth with living green,
and calls bluets and violets
to adorn the oval mound :

" Not human art, but living god.s
alone can fashion beauties
that by changing live."

THE TOWN OF DCR/IAM.

379

-^fe^

-^■^^

^^^<\

^r^t

Barberries.

The location of these churchless
churchyards also often appeals to
one's sense of the fatness of things.
Many of them are upon hilltops, with
an open view on every side ; others
are on the borders of woods, which
are gradually encroaching upon the
domain of the dead ; while some are
beside running streams, where the
music of the moving water is always
to be heard. I often fancy how these
tiny cemeteries would have appealed
to that beautiful spirit whose body

rests on A^aila mountain in the islands
of the southern seas, who j^ears ago,
in brooding over the crowded sepul-
chres of ancient Edinburgh, wrote,
"An open outlook is to be desired
for a churchyard, and a sight of
the sky and some of the world's
beauty relieves a mind from morbid
thoughts."

Durham is a fortunate region for
the home of a naturalist. Had Gil-
bert White or Richard Jeffries lived
here, the town would have been

A Group of Lady's-Slippers.

3So

THE TOWN OF DURHAM.

no town in the state are these advan-
tages more fully found in miniature
than in the ancient 03'ster River
parish. Nearly four centuries ago,
the early settlers noticed the extra-
ordinary abundance of animals fit for
human food. Probably for a period
yet longer in duration this wealth had
been appreciated by the aboriginal
red man. "The salmon, the shad,
the striped bass — which goes into
Exeter river every winter now, and

The Cedar-Eird.

famous among lovers of outdoor lit-
erature the world over. The diver-
sity of soil surface — shown by the
barren, sandy tracts, the rocky hills,
the fertile lowlands, the tide-washed
wastes, the bay shores — has led to
the development of an extraordinary
variety of plants and animals. Some
3'ears ago one of the most eminent
American naturalists wrote: "Prob-
ably no state in the Union presents
so striking a variety in its animal life
as New Hampshire." Perhaps in

The Screech-Owl.

Bittern among Sedges.

which is one of the most beautiful
and palatable of the food- fish, fre-
quently weighing twenty-five to
thirty pounds, — the cod, the had-
dock, and the pollock also came as
they do now in great numbers at cer-
tain seasons. The bluefish came
into these streams to feed upon the
schools of herring which annually
came in, and it is probable that
schools of mackerel also came into
the Pa.scataqua as far as Great Bay.
This bay was the favorite lighting

THE TOWN OF PrRII.lM.

381

and feeding ground for the migra-
tory water birds, north of the Ches-
apeake Bay, and twice each year
was filled with millions of ducks
and geese which were an easy prey
to the savage. On the banks of
these streams lived the beaver,
which was probably cared for and
killed as a wise farmer cares for
his flock and slaughters only when
his needs demand. That this was
so, the dams erected by the beaver
and now plainly visible at Wood-
man's and at Cummet's creek, and
other places, seem to attest ; and the
inland swamps and fresh streams
offered homes for other fur-bear-
ing animals ; the fox, the bear, the
wolf, the otter, the lynx, the mink,
the muskrat, and skunk lived here in
great abundance. What was true of
the migrating water birds was true
of the land birds, which annually
traversed from South to North and
returned each year. As late as 1830,
the wild pigeon swarmed into Dur-
ham twice each year, and could be
captured by the thousand by a suc-
cessful hunter. The deer roamed the
forest. Probably nowhere else on
the Atlantic coast was there such a
paradise for the savage, where so
much food could be obtained for the
taking as could be found
at all times in and about
the Pascataqua and its
tributaries, and the na-
tive's love for tlajs coun-
try made the savage more
savage when he found the
whites were destroying
these sources of food sup-
ply." ^

It is many decades

' Albert DeMeritt. Doiri- Kcpubli-
can, Feb. 123, 1897.

Seed Pods of Willow Herb.

since practically all of these larger
animals disappeared before the ruth-
less onslaught of human persecutors.
But to the lesser ambitions of the nat-
uralist, the quarry still awaits the
hunter; bird, insect, and flow^er yet
pursue their tranquil ways and yield
gracefully before the fine frenzy of
the Nature lover.

The region along the shores of
the Great Bay has a flora and fauna
embracing many forms of life not
found elsewhere in the town. The
salt-water plants, like the seaweeds
and rock weeds, are here found in

:::^-J^ -^■':^"^S'^^^

The Dwarf Cornel.

Tim rowx OF dlriiam.

383

great abundance ; while the tide-
washed lowlands are covered with
the sedges and grasses of brackish
habitat. Among animals the horse-
shoe crab is the most unique of the
Bay forms. At some seasons the
shores will be lined with these inter-
esting types of early geologic life.
Clams and other mussels are also
abundant, as well as many other
marine and brackish water species.
The Bay region is still the haunt of
many interesting birds : herons, bit-
terns, and ducks are
frequently seen, while
the bald eagle and the
ospre)'^ are not uncom-
mon.

The vegetation of
the hill regions of
Durham is that gen-
erally prevailing in
southern New Hamp-
shire, with the special
abundance of the bar-
berry which charac-
terizes the coast re-
gions of New Eng-
land. White pine is
the most abundant
tree among the evergreens ; while
maples, hickories, oaks, poplars,
birches, and elms are the chief de-
ciduous types. The elms are very
numerous and add a special charm
to the landscape ; great bouquets of
them are to be found in many a
meadowy outloo'k. Of the shrubby
plants, the cedar and savin are seen
on the hillsides, and choke-cherries
and alders line the highways. Wil-
lows of all sizes abound, adding a
grace of form and color that is
unique in the spring scenery. The
herbaceous plants are legion, but
many of the most interesting spring

wild flowers are of local habitats.
My first botanical excursions yielded
chiefly disappointment: there is not
that general prevalence of wild flow-
ers that is found in many regions.
Some species, like the blue flag and
dwarf cornel, the anemones and vio-
lets, of course are general, but others,
like the Mayflower, the purple tril-
lium, or the pink lady'.s-slipper, are
found only in special situations. In
recent clearings which have been
burned over, two summer plants —

Spruce Hole.

the fireweed or willow herb and the
pokeweed — are nearly always pres-
ent. Such clearings, also, are the
home of many birds. During spring
and autumn the migrants find con-
genial resting-places in such spots,
while throughout the summer they
prove attractive to the species resi-
dent through the season. These in-
clude the birds generally distributed
in middle New England — bluebirds,
robins, cat-birds, various thrushes,
cedar birds, woodpeckers, the smaller
owls, to mention only a few of the
more abundant forms.

One of the most interesting local-

3S4

SINGER, SING.

ities in Durham to the naturalist, is
"Spruce Hole" — a small bog near
the Lee border of the town. "It is
a remarkable bowl-like depression in
the ground, and covers five or six
acres. The direct depth from the
level to the bottom of the bowl must
be a hundred feet. The sides are
very steep, and were once lined and
still are, in part, with spruce trees,
which impart a peculiar solemnity to
the place. The bottom of the bowl
is a quaking bog, covered with a bed
of thick, soft moss, from which the
water oozes at every step. Here

grow a variety of orchids, the sun-
dew, the sidesaddle-flower, and other
curious plants, and it is the haunt of
multitudinous insects, whose hum on
a summer's day alone breaks the
solemn stillness of this solitary spot.
In the centre is a dark pool, said to
be unfathomable, concerning which
there is a tragical legend." So
wrote Miss Thompson some years
ago ; the description still applies, ex-
cept that, winter before last, some
adventurous youths found the bot-
tom of the pool by sounding through
the ice.

i^^

^-- Wfi

^•i^A-l

,:*-p-

'^^"1^:

SINGER, SING.

Uy JoIlii I 'aiice Clicney.

lyift your voice for glad love's sake,

Sing for lorn love sighing ;
Melody, singer, let it wake

P'or the life that is born and the life that is d3ing ;
All the joy and all the woe
Into a little song will go.

All the hopes and all the fears.

All the bliss, the sorrow,
All that has been in all the j-ears.

The toil of to-day, the reward of the morrow, —
All, O singer, to you belong.
All will go in a little song.

REPRESENT A TIVE A GRICUL TURIS TS.

385

lyift your voice for glad love's sake,

Sing for lorn love sighing ;
Melod}^ singer, let it wake

For the life that is born and the life that is dying ;
All the joy and all the woe
Into a little song will go.

REPREwSENTATIVE AGRICULTURISTS.
By H. H. Metcalf.

HENRY W. KKYRS, NORTH HAVER-
HII,!,.

Among the best known stock farms
in New Hampshire for many j^ears
past, " Pine Grove Farm," at North
Haverhill, has held a conspicuous
position. This farm, originally
owned by Moses Dow, a distin-
guished citizen and one of the first
lawyers in Grafton county, who set-
tled here before the Revolution, and,
held various important ofhces, but
modestly declined an election to con-
gress, because he felt incompetent for
the position, was purchased more
than thirty years ago by the late
Henry Keyes of Newbury, Vt., pres-
ident of the Connecticut & Pas-
sumpsic Rivers railroad, who carried
out extensive improvements, and en-
gaged in stock-raising, breeding fine-
blooded Durham cattle and Merino
sheep oii a large scale.

Mr. Keyes died in 1870, leaving a
wife — formerly Miss Emma F. Pierce
— and five children, three sons and
two daughters. The eldest of the
sons — Henry W. Keyes — who was
born in Newbur}', May 23, 1863,
though still pursuing his studies,
assumed the management of the farm
when eighteen years of age, and it
has since been in his hands, and its

reputation as a superior stock farm
maintained and largely extended.

The farm contains about twelve
hundred acres of land in all, of which
about two hundred and twenty-five
acres are mowing and tillage, includ-
ing a magnificent tract of Connecti-
cut river intervale, with a large
amount of higher meadow and plain
land. About two hundred and fifty
tons of hay are cut annually, while
from fifteen to twent}^ acres of corn
are ensilaged. In the season of 1896,
ninety acres of land were under the
plow, fifty acres in oats, and forty in
corn, the latter being half ensilage
and half field corn. All the crops
produced are fed on the farm, to the
splendid stock of Holstein and Jer-
sey cattle, fine-blooded trotting and
French coach horses, Shropshire
sheep, and Yorkshire swine, all of
which have been selected, or bred,
with great care from the best im-
ported animals. The stock the past
season embraced about one hundred
head of cattle, twenty fine horses, one
hundred and twenty-five sheep, and
fifty swine. Of late, Mr. Keyes has
been crossing the Holstein and Jer-
sey with great success, for dairy pur-
poses. His Shrop.shire sheep have
become noted all over the country,

REPRESENTA TI VE A GRICUE TURIS TS.

387

and have included the best premium
animals in New England ; and the
same may be said of his cattle and
swine. Indeed, a more extensive
display of prize ribbons than is to be
seen in his ofhce can with difhculty
be found, the same having been won
at the New England, Bay State, Ver-
mont, Rhode Island, Grange State,
and various other fairs in New Eng-
land and Canada.

The buildings upon this farm are
extensive, well appointed, and in ex-
cellent condition, every way in keep-
ing with the reputation of the place,
and admirably adapted for the pur-
poses designed, standing well in from
the highway and commanding a fine
view of the beautiful Connecticut
valley. The house includes the origi-
nal Dow mansion, with additions
and improvements, and is still the
family home, over which the mother
presides, Mr. Keyes being still un-
married.

Mr. Keyes was educated in the
Boston public schools, at Adams
academy, and Harvard college, grad-
uating from the latter in 1887. He
is a Democrat in politics, has served
several years as selectman, was a
member of the state legislature in
1 89 1 and in 1893, and was the can-
didate of his party for senator in the
Grafton district in 1894, receiving
more votes than his Republican op-
ponent, but failing of an election for
want of a majority over all. He has
also served one term as a trustee of
the New Hampshire College of Agri-
culture and the Mechanic Arts. He
is a director of the Connecticut &
Passumpsic Rivers railroad, a mem-
ber of Grafton lodge, F. & A. M.,
and of Pink Granite grange. North
Haverhill. He is also vice-president

of the Nashua River Paper company,
of Pepperell, Mass., of which one of
his lirothers is president and the
other treasurer, and was actively in-
strumental in the establishment of
the North Haverhill creamer}^ at
which the milk from his dairy is
marketed.

ZERAII p:. TlI/rON, BRISTOL.

The town of Bristol is generally
known for its activity and enterprise
as a manufacturing place, yet there

Zerah E. Tilton.

are prosperous and progressive far-
mers within its borders, prominent
among whom is Zerah E. Tilton,
proprietor of "New Found Valley
Stock Farm," located al)out half a
mile outside the village.

Mr. Tilton is a native of the town
of Groton, son of Elbridge and Alice
(Cummings) Tilton, born May 23,
1858. His parents removed to Ea-
conia when he was seven years of
age, where they re.sided until he was
fourteen, then removing to Bristol
and locating upon the farm which

388

REPRESENTA TI VE A GRIC UL TURIS TS.

he now occupies, where he has ever
since had his home. His education
was obtained in the Laconia graded
schools and the Bristol high school,
and at the age of twenty-one he en-
gaged with his father in the retail
milk business, the partnership con-
tinuing until the death of the latter,
after which he ran the business him-
self until 1895, making seventeen
years altogether in this line, during
which time he kept about thirty cows
on an average.

This farm contained originally
about one hundred and fifty acres,
but Mr. Tilton has added thereto by
purchase from time to time, until it
now embraces four hundred and thir-
ty acres, upon which there are two
sets of buildings, while he has also a
back pasture containing about two
hundred acres. The trotting park
and fair grounds of the Bristol Fair
association are included within his
farm limits. He has about one hun-
dred acres in mowing and tillage,
twenty-five acres being under the
plow, of which fifteen are generally
in corn and ten in oats and barley,
the corn being ensilaged and used in
supplementing the one hundred tons
of hay annually cut, along with the

oats and barley, in feeding the forty
head of cattle kept on the farm, to-
gether with five horses kept for farm
work in the summer, and which are
employed in extensive lumbering op-
erations in winter along with several
j^okes of oxen.

On his home farm, Mr. Tilton has
a spacious and convenient barn no
feet long and 40 feet wide, with cel-
lar under the whole ; also two silos
of 125 tons' capacity each. He has
also a steam mill for doing various
kinds of work on the farm, grinding
grain, making cider, and preparing
stove wood for market. For a few
years past he has made a specialty
of Holstein cows, of which he has
now about twenty, the milk from
the same going to the Boston mar-
ket.

Mr. Tilton was united in marriage
with Miss Georgianna Weeks, of
Bristol, May 22, 1887. He is a
charter member of New Found lyake
grange, was its first overseer, and
served two years as master. Politi-
cally, he is a Democrat, and has
been the candidate of his party for
various ofhces, but residing in a
strong Republican town, has never
been elected.

A GARDEN SONG.
By F. H. Swift.

Two blossoms in a garden blew,

Fresh and pure as new-born dew,

They grew there side by side.

The one was as the angels white,

The other flushed with rosy light,

Caught from morning's smile.

How chanced they side by side to grow ?

Some summer wind had placed them so,

All beautiful were they.

At evening, there a zephyr strayed.

Between these simple blossoms played.

And taught them each to love.

At daybreak there the gardener found

The lily, dead upon the ground.

Pierced with many a thorn.

The rose had lost its beauteous shape.

Nor saw as yet its sad mistake.

But wildly sought in every spot

The lily fair: he found her not.

And wept, " Love is not all."

PERFECTED.
By Augusta C. Seavey.

The aged artist's failing hand essays
To model, as of old, in clay. His son
Reshapes each night the work so ill begun,

With skilled hand, while the father sleeps, and lays

The figure back. At morn, with eager gaze.

The sire comes in, love's sweet fraud looks upon,-
.And cries, with joy, " Ha ! truly, I have done

As well as ever in my youthful days ! "

O Hand of Eove Divine, more skilful far

Than mortal fingers, while we strive to mould
The crude clay of our lives to image Thee, —
Draw near unseen, retouch that which we mar.
Till, in the Morning, we our work behold
Perfected, fair, for all eternity.

Conducted by Fred Cowing, State Superintendent of Public Instrtiction .

In l'ic7v of Modern Notio)is in ScJiool Affairs, the following Report of the City
of Portsmouth, of the Year 1807 , may be Interesting :

RULES AND REGULATIONS FOR THE GOVERNMENT OF THE

PUBLIC SCHOOLS.

The school committee of the town of to 12, and from 2 o'clock p. m. to sun-
Portsmouth, consisting of the Rev'd set.

George Richards, president, Samuel article ii.

Hutchings. Elijah Hall, Seth Walker, No boy shall be admitted into school

Luke M. Laighton, Walter Akerman, one quarter of an hour after the bell

Charles Pcirce, Richard Evans, Lyman has rung, without a written apology

Spalding, Thomas Elwyn, recording from his parent or guardian,
secretary, — selectmen, and, by vote of

the town, ^-.v offcio uf ihe school com- article hi.

mittee, — have, after mucii previous in- The holidays shall be, viz., the Fast

vestigation and discussion, agreed (jn day, the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving

the following rules and regulations as day, Christmas day, Thursday after-

the best calcul iicd. in llu-ir oj^inion, to noons, Saturday afternoons, and one

form a proper system of ]:)ul)lic educa- week in each year; provided that no

tion for the town: two schools be vacant at one and the

same time.

ARTICLE IV.

Strict discipline and good order must
be maintained in all the schools. To
effect which, the masters should first
The hours of attentlince in all the endeavor to operate on the scholars'
schools shall be viz., frcjm the first f>f minds by the sense of shame for im-
April to the first of October, from 8 proper Conduct, and by the pride of
oclock a. m. to 12, and from 2 p. m. to good behaviour, They are to be spar-
6 p. m. P>om the first of October to ing of promises and cautious of threats,
the first of April, from 9 o'clock a. m. but punctual in the performance of the

Rules and Re(;ula iio\s for ihe Per
Lie Schools.

ARriCM' I.

ED UCA TIONA L DEPA R TMENT.

391

former, steady in the execution of the
latter. If neither the sense of shame
nor the pride of virtue be sufficient to
preserve strict obedience and attention
on the part of the scholars, recourse
must be had to the infliction of moder-
ate and becoming corporal punishment,
and in the last resort to temporary dis-
missal or to expulsion.

ARTICLE V.

The masters are enjoined to inculcate
on their scholars the propriety of good
behaviour whilst absent from school, and
to take cognizance of their conduct in
the streets ; particularly noticing and cor-
recting quarrels, profane and indecent
language, rudeness, insolence, and every-
thing that militates against good man-
ners and sound morals.

ARTICLE VT.

The masters shall cause the by-laws
of the town and the regulations for the
government of the schools to be read
to the scholars on the morning of the
first Monday in every month; and a
strict observance of them is positively
enjoined.

ARTICLE VII.

School exercises shall be introduced
in the morning by prayer, and by read-
ing a portion of the holy Scriptures,
and in the evening shall be concluded
in the same manner.

ARTICLE VIII.

Every scholar shall furnish himself
with such books as are required by
these regulations for the class to which
he shall be attached, within one week
after his admission, or be dismissed
from the school till he has procured
them.

ARTICLE IX.

Every scholar shall be required to

recite a morning lesson from such book
as the master shall direct.

LATIN AND GREEK GRAMMAR SCHOOL.
ARTICLE X.

The preceptor of the Latin and Greek
grammar school shall teach the rudi-
ments of the Latin and Greek languages
when required so to do; and he is to
be of classical ability to qualify scholars
for admission into any of the neighbor-
ing universities. He shall also teach
the English language grammatically,
rhetoric, composition, elocution, geog-
raphy, the use of the globes, writing in
its varieties, and arithmetic.

ARTICLE XI.

No child shall be admitted into the
above mentioned school under ten years
of age, excepting he be designed for the
study of the learned languages, in which
case he may be admitted at the age of
eight; provided, nevertheless, that no
child shall be at any age admitted into
this school excepting he be able to read
any English author with readiness, and
to class in spelling with the lowest class
in the school.

ARTICLE XII.

The books for the Latin students
shall be, viz., Adams's Latin grammar,
Latin primer, Cornelius Nepos, Tully's
offices, Caesar's commentaries, Cicero's
orations, Virgil, Sallust, and Horace.
Of the higher classics, the edit, in us.
Dclph. are recommended. Clarke's in-
troduction to the making of Latin is to
be used for exercises written at home
and brought into school for revision
and correction every morning.

ARTICLE XIII.

The books for the Greek students
shall be, viz., the Gloucester Greek

392 EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

grammar, the Greek testament, Xeno- central, and south English schools, and
phon's Cyropaedia and Colhu-taiica Gncca of all other schools which may be es-
Mmora. tablished for similar purposes, shall be
ARTICLE XIV. ^1-,]^. to teach reading, orthography, the
This school for the study of the use of the pauses, writing in its varie-
English language and for geography, ties, arithmetic, English grammar, and
writing, and arithmetic, shall be divided geography.
into four classes, and the books for article xvii.
each class shall be, viz. : No child shall be admitted into these
Class I. Murray's English grammar; schools unless he have attained the age
Murray's exercises; Murray's English of six years and be able to read words
reader; Blair's rhetoric abridged; of two syllables without spelling, and to
Walker's dictionary abridged; Morse's class in the spelling book,
geography abridged; Walsh's mercan-
tile arithmetic. Writing, elocution, and article xviii.
"composition are to be taught and strict The north, central, and south Eng-
attention is to be paid to orthography, lish schools shall be divided into as
Class 2. Murray's grammar abridged ; many classes as may be found con-
Murray's ' introduction to the English venient for the best instruction of the
reader; Walker's dictionary abridged; children. The books for the several
Ticknor's exercises; Merrill's arith- classes shall be, viz.:
metic. For the first class. Murray's gram-
Class 3 and 4. Murray's grammar mar; Murray's exercises; Murray's in-
abridged; Walker's dictionary abridged ; troduction to the English reader; Walk-
arts and sciences abridged ; Pike's or- er's dictionary abridged ; Dwight's geog-
thographer ; Merrill's arithmetic; the raphy ; Merrill's arithmetic.
Bible is to be read in all the classes. Second Class. Murray's grammar
and all the scholars are to be instructed abridged; Walker's dictionary do.; arts
in writing. and sciences do.; Ticknor's exercises;
article XV. Merrill's arithmetic; the Bible is to
The number of Latin, Greek, and be read in both these classes, and writ-
English scholars admissible at one and ing is to be taught.

the same time shall not exceed seventy ; Third class. American Preceptor;
and as in its original establishment this Pike's Orthographer ; New Testament,
school was intended for classical educa- The lower classes. The New Testa-
tion, if Latin and English scholars ment ; Pike's Orthographer ; writing and
should be offered at one and the same arithmetic are also to be taught.

time, and there shpuld not be room for

, ,, , , ..... ^ rewards of merit.

both agreeable to the limitation of

seventy, then and in that case the Latin article xix.

scholars are to have the decided prefer- The rewards will be adjudged at the

ence of admission. discretion of the committee, on the

quarterly visitation days, to the scholars

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR SCHOOLS. . , ^ . , '

of the respective schools, according to

ARTICLE XVI. tl-ig course of studies established by

The respective masters of the north, these regulations, viz.:

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

393

I St. To that scholar who shall pre-
sent to the committee the best original
composition on any given subject.

2d. To that scholar who shall have
committed to memory and repeated the
greatest number of lines since the last
quarter day.

3d. To that scholar who shall have
made the greatest proficiency in writing
since the last quarter day.

4th. To the head scholar in each
class when the quarterly examination is
finished. '

None of the above rewards will be
given, unless the scholar to whose lot
they may fall, shall have made more
than usual proficiency in his studies
during the quarter.

A true copy, Th : Elwvn,

Recording Secretary.

PROF. H. A. DEARBORN.

ITeman Allen Dearborn, the head of the Latin department in Tufts college,
died May 14. He was born in Weare May 18, 1831, and was graduated from I'ufts
in 1857, the valedictorian of the first class to receive degrees from the institution.
After graduation, he was principal of the Clinton Liberal Institute until 1864,
when he was tendered the professorship of Latin at Tufts, which he held there-
after until his death.

COL. WILLIAM BADGER.

Col. William Badger, U. S. A. (retired), who died in Jamaica Plain, Mass.,
May 12, wa^born in Gilmanton, August, 1826, and was educated at Gilmanton acad-
emy and at Dartmouth college, from which he was graduated in 1848. He engaged
in manufacturing as the superintendent of mills at Belmont and I'ilton until the war
broke out,, when he enlisted and served until the close of the struggle, attaining
the rank of colonel of the Fourth New Hampshire Volunteers, and being brevetted
for gallant and meritorious conduct. He was commissioned lieutenant of the
Sixth United States Infantry after the war, and was retired as captain in 1889,
having served as governor of the military prison at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas,
and in other responsible posts.

REV. OTIS \VL\G.

Rev. Otis VVing, who celebrated his ninety-ninth birthday April lo, died at
Newton Junction May 2. He began to preach when he was 20 years old, and
had baptized more than one thousand persons. He had preached in Massachu-
setts, Michigan, New York, and Maine.

394 ^^^ HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

JOHN C. PAIGE.
John C. Paige was born in Hanover in 1839, ^"^ ^^^^ i" Boston May 8. In
early life he was engaged in general trading, but in 1869 he entered the fire in-
surance business at Providence, R. I. In 1872, he removed to Boston, to adjust
losses in connection with the great fire, and he remained there until his death, be-
coming its most noted insurance manager as well as the conductor of the largest
individual insurance establishment in the world. The demands of his business
were such that he occupied an entire six-story building and employed 100 clerks.

GEN. JOHN J. PERRY.

Gen. John J. Perry, the oldest ex-congressman in Maine, died in Portland
May 2. He was born in Portsmouth August 11, 181 1, and was educated at Kent's
Hill seminary. He was admitted to the bar in 1844, served in the state legisla-
ture and senate, and in 1855 was elected to congress and served two terms. He
was a member of the "Peace Congress" which met in the winter of i86o-'6i.
At the conclusion of his public career he practised law in Portland.

DR. JAMES P. WALKER.

Dr. James P. Walker, the oldest physician in Manchester, died May 6. He
was born in the same city February 7, 1828, studied medicine with Dr. Josiah
Crosby and received a diploma from the Harvard Medical college in 1856. Im-
mediately thereafter, he opened an office in his native city and had since practised
there. He had served many years on the board of education, and twice as a
member of the legislature.

GEORGE SWAINE.

George Swaine, for twenty years grand secretary of the Scottish Rite bodies of
the valley of Nashua, died at his home at Nashua May 3. He was born in Bos-
ton in 1825, and had held many offices, state and local. He was postmaster of
Nashua under the administrations of Lincoln and Grant. He was a prominent
Congregationalist, having been clerk of the county conference for twenty-five

years.

GEORGE E. UEARP>()RN.

George Klvin Dearborn was born in Kensington April 16, 1825, and died at
Philadelphia May 7. In early life he was station agent at East Kingston, and
later a general trader. In 1859, he engaged in the varnish business in Boston,
and 1864 connected himself with the firm of William Tilden in New York. Be-
coming the Philadelphia representative of his house in 1867, he had since resided
in that city. In 1876, he opened piano warerooms, which he conducted until his
death, with great success.

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