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THE

GRANITE MONTHLY

A New Hampshire Magazine

DEVOTED TO

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, LITERATURE,
AND STATE PROGRESS

VOLUME xxm

CONCORD, N. H.

PUBLISHED BY THE GRANITE .MONTHLY COMPANY

1897

G75?

By the Granite Monthly Company

Concord, N. H.

Printed, Illustrated, and Electrotyped by
Republican Press Association {Monitor Press)
Concord, New Hampshire, U. S. A.

The Granite Monthly.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME XXHL

yuly — December, iSgy.

A Latter Day Pioneer — Frank Bolles, Mabel Hill

An Historic Landmark, H. Bartlett Morrill

A Plea for Our Rocks, Laura D. Nichols

Armstrong, George Washington, Henry Robinson

A Sculptor's Dream, Margaret Littleton .

AsQUAM, Lake, Annie Rogers Noyes .

A Study of Sweet-Peas, Clarence Moores Weed,

At Apple-Tree Point, Lake Champlain, Milo Benedict .

At Parting, Clarence Henry Pearson ....

Benedict, Milo, At Apple-Tree Point, Lake Champlain .
Birds in the Heart of New Hampshire, Ellen E. Webster

Boat Song, Laura D. Nichols

Bolles, Frank, A Latter-Day Pioneer, Mabel Hill

Bringing Water for the Women Folks to Wash, Clara Augusta Trask

Centre Harbor, Clarence Johnson

Chandler, Jack, Summer ....

Chandler, Ensign Lloyd H., U. S. N., Glimpses of Turkey in Asia

Cheney, John Vance, The Sleepers .

Chesley, Charles Henry, Faith and Hope .

Clark, Eleanor J., Glimpses of Holderness

Conrad, Justus, The Town of W^oodstock,

Cooper, J. M., Mount Washington in Winter

Courage, George Bancroft Griffith

Death, Fletcher Harper Swift
Douglass, Marian, Betsey Sleeper

196

313

344
157
327
276

25. 73

319

49
I

243
196

155

164

56
189

279
1 1

342
120

205
204

CONTENTS.

Educational Department, Fred Gowing

57, 121. i8i, 244. 306, 358

Hints to Teachers, James Monohon ....
My Pedagogical Creed, W. T. Harris
Overwork, A. H. Campbell, Ph. D. . . . .
The New Richards School Building at Newport, F. O
What Are Our Rural Schools Doing ? John Kenislon
Evans, George H., Winnipesaukee

Faith and Hope, Charles Henry Chesley
Francestown, George K. Wood

Glimpses of Holderness, Eleanor J. Clark
Glimpses of Turkey in Asia, Ensign Lloyd H
Gowing Fred, Educational Department .
Granite Graphics, George. Bancroft Griffith
Griffith, George Bancroft, Courage

Granite Graphics ....

Chandler, U. S

57, I

Chellis

21, 181, 244

181,

57
121
244
306
358
173

23
85

• 279
. 189
h 306, 358
. 48
120
. 48

Hatch, Francis March, Clarence Johnson ....... 63

Hill, Mabel, A Latter-Day Pioneer — Frank Bolles 196

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

Luther Tracy Townsend 36, 116, 173, 237, 288

Holderness, Glimpses of, Eleanor J. Clark . . . . • • • -79
Hoyt, Samuel, The March Triumphal 35

Johnson, Clarence, Centre Harbor

Hatch, Francis March ....
Robinson, Nahum .....

Lake Asquam, Annie Rogers Noyes .

Laurance, Ray, The Chimney Swallow

Linehan, John C, The American-Irish Historical

Littleton, Margaret, A Sculptor's Dream .

Marseilles, Charles, Henry Robinson
Mary, Mary H. Wheeler .....
Morrill, H. Bartlett, An Historic Landmark
Mount Washington in Winter, J. M. Cooper .

Society

Nebraska Ducks and Nebraska Mu
New Hampshire Necrology

Adams, Dr. Ira H.

Barr, John N.

Bean, Aaron H.

Berry, George F.

Bunton, Andrew

Burlev, Arthur G.

Chandler, J. D.

Colbath, Francis

Dana, Charles A.

Davison, Milon ,

Flanders, Dr. Abraham

D, Clarence B. Randlett

61, I

26, I

86, 249, 31

164

207

276

71
127

327

251

287

313

342

352
o, 366
312
312
250

311
61

250

311
310

250

368

CONTENTS.

New Hampshire Necrology [Continued] :

Fogg, A. J. .

FoLSOM, David .

Foster, William L.

French, Dr. George

Gardiner. James G.

Goodrich, C. G. .

Hale, George S.

Hinds, Dr. W. H. W.

Johnson, Luther G.

Kidder, Charles S.

Leonard, Ira

Lincoln, George C.

Moore, Dr. L L.

Morse, Dr. N. R.

Nelson, Judge T. L.

Nutter, Col. E. S.

Pattee, Dr. Asa F.

Patterson, John D.

Plummer. ]. C. .

Porter, Henry W.

OuiNBY, Benjamin F.

Rand, Dr. J. B. .

Robinson, Col. J. W.

Rollins, Daniel G.

Rollins, Judge S. W.

Ruggles, Prof. E. R.

Shattuck, Joseph

Stevens, Charles G.

Turner, Charles S.

Winch, George F.

Wingate, George E.
Nichols, Laura D., A Plea for Our Rocks

Boat Song ....
Noyes, Annie Rogers, Lake Asquam

On the Wings of the Wind, Clarence Moores Weed
Our Native State, Dr. J. P. Rand ....

Pearson, Clarence Henry, At Parting

The Great Pie Case .....

Rand, Dr. J. P.. Our Native State ....
Randlett, Clarence B., Nebraska Ducks and Nebraska Mud

Rich, Alice Elizabeth, The Peterborouh Hills
Robinson, Henry, Armstrong, George Washington

Marseilles, Charles

The New Hampshire State Prison .
Robinson, Nahum, Clarence Johnson .
Rogers, Walter M., "Trinity Churchyard"

250
312
186
126
368
250
187
187
186
61
312

311
31'
186
366
366
61
62
255
368
126
249

367
249

187
368
186

62
187
368

344

243
276

301
114

319

114
352

83
157
251
214
207

299

CONTENTS.

Sanborn, F. B., The Sanborn or Samborne Family
Sleeper, Betsey, Marian Douglass
Summer, Jack Chandler
Swift, Fletcher Harper, Death
The Shattered Hull

Tenney, E. P., To the Merrimack 357

The American-Irish Historical Society, John C. Linehan . . . .127

The American-Irish Historical Society — Membership 187

The Chimney Swallow, Ray Laurance . . . . . . . -7^

The Great Pie Case, Clarence Henry Pearson ....... 54

The March Triumphal, Samuel Hoyt ........ 35

The New Hampshire State Prison, Henry Robinson . . . . .214

The Peterborough Hills, Alice Elizabeth Rich ...... 83

The Sanborn or Samborne Family, F. B. Sanborn . . . . . .321

The Shattered Hull, F. Harper Swift . . . . . . . -341

The Sleepers, John Vance Cheney ......... 9

The Thompsonian Infirmary, Concord ........ 345

The Town of Woodstock, Justus Conrad 11

To the Merrimack, E. P. Tenney 357

Townsend, Adj. Luther Tracy, History of the Sixteenth Regiment, New

Hampshire Volunteers, 36, 116, 173, 237, 288

Trask, Clara Augusta, Bringing Water for the Women Folks to Wash . 155
" Trinity Churchyard," Walter M. Rogers . . . . . • • 299

321

204

56
205

341

Webster, Ellen E., Birds in the Heart of New Hampshire
Weed, Clarence Moores, A Study of Sweet-Peas

On the Wings of the Wind
Wheeler, Mary H., Mary ....
Winnipesaukee, George H. Evans
Wood, George K., Francestown
Woodstock, The Town of, Justus Conrad

= 5' 73
301

287

173
85
1 1

u
o

Q
O
O

W
<

The Granite Monthly.

Vol.. XXHI,

JULY, 1897,

No.

BIRDS IN THE HEART OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.

By Ellen E. Webster.

F the numerous species
taken in Central New
Hampshire, only brief
mention can be made in
a limited article, but to
one on the lookout for different birds,
an idea will be given of what kinds
may be seen, and books may be con-
sulted for full descriptions.

The charms of bird study, how-
ever, come from personal observation,
for, as Mrs. Miller has said, "The
bird lover who carries a glass, but
never a gun, who observes, but never
shoots, sees many queer things not
set down in books ; freaks and no-
tions and curious fancies on the part
of the feathered folk, which reveal an
individuality of character as marked
in a three- inch warbler as in a six-
foot man."

Our most diminutive feathered in-
habitant is the ruby-throated hum-
ming-bird, who is not much more
than a "pinch of feathers," but whose
every feather is a gem in itself. The
male alone wears the brilliant gorget
which sparkles and flashes in the
sunlight as if thickly set with rubies,

and well he may be proud of such a
family heirloom. I associate these
hummers with sweet - peas, whose
blossoms are always

". . . on tiptoe for a flight ;
With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white,
And taper fingers catching at all things,
To bind them all about with tiny rings,"

for a little couple used to sip their
nectar at my front door.

Not much larger are the kinglet.s —
the ruby-crowned and golden-crested.
Each male wears a few red feathers
in his cap, but the ruby-crowned
partly conceals his by more sober
shades, while the golden-crested .sets
his off with a band of rich yellow,
which in its turn is bordered with
black with a whitish frill outside all,
— rather gorgeous for his sex, do you
not think ?

The various streaks and spots of
the brown- attired sparrow family are
puzzling as divScriminating marks.
The chipping sparrow, with her
bright chestnut cap, is most familiar
about our door-steps. Closel}* repre-
senting "chippie" is the tree .spar-
row, a winter visitor, but larger in

BIRDS IN THE HEART OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.

Fox Sparrow.

size and with one dark blotch on
the otherwise unmarked breast. The
song sparrow wears a similar brooch,
but he is heavily streaked above and
below. He possesses a fine voice,
and his song is full of cheer from
March to late autumn-tide. The fox
sparrow is a handsome fellow, with
plenty of rich ferruginous color in
his mixed homespun. The bay-
winged bunting and the field and
savanna - sparrows are all called
"ground sparrows." The baj'-winged
has the bright chestnut color on the
bend of the wing and white feathers
that show when the tail is spread ;
the field sparrow has bright bay on
the middle of the back, without white
lateral tail-feathers ; and the savanna-
sparrow has no bay on the wings,
no white on tail and wings, and is
thickly streaked above. The white-
throated and white-crowned sparrows
are exceedingly attractive, the latter
being especially kingly in his bear-
ing. Both have black and white
head-dresses, but the white-throated
has in addition a little yellow line
from the bill to the eye, and a white
throat. More rarely seen are the

Lincoln's, Henslow's, and yellow-
winged sparrows.

The brown creeper is a bird of the
woods, and lives largely upon insects
found in the bark of trees.

There are two so-called snowbirds
— the black snowbird and the snow-
flake or snow-bunting. The black
snowbird or Junco, a dark-ashen
colored bird, abruptly white under-

White-Crowned Sparrow.

neath from his breast backwards, and
with lateral tail-feathers white, is
common. The snowflakes are nu-
merous some winter seasons. Of
their plumage, John Burroughs says,
"It reflects the winter landscape —
an expanse of white surmounted or
streaked with gray and brown, a field
of snow with a line of woods or a
tinge of stubble."

Other small winter birds are the
black-capped titmouse, commonly
called the chickadee, whose merr}^
friendly ways endear him to many a
household ; his cousin, the Hudso-
nian titmouse, is rarely seen ; the
white-breasted and red-breasted nut-
hatches are mistaken by man}^ for
woodpeckers, ])ecause they walk up
and down a tree trunk in search of

BIRDS IN THE HEART OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.

food ; the red crossbills, often accom-
panied by a few of the white- winged,
who pick the seeds from pine-cones
with their curious bills, which seem
especially adapted for this purpose,
alwa3'S bring to mind a red-letter day
in childhood when I first saw^ their
crossed mandibles, as a large flock
came to our piazza and allowed us
children to throw out bread crumbs
for them ; the red-poll linnets, with
their distinguishing striped sides and
red heads, and particularly the ma-
ture males, with rosy rump and
breast, are pleasing acquaintances
fiom the North ; the goldfinch stays
all the 5^ear, but doffs his black-and-
gold lover dress suit for plainer win-
ter garb, — indeed, there might be a

Snow-Bunting or Snowflake.

suspicion that he dons one of his
wife's cast-off dresses over his gor-
geous summer robe, so like her does
he look in winter attire ; much like
him, but rather prettier, is the pine
linnet or siskin, who is an expert at
shelling sunflower seeds ; occasion-
ally both the loggerhead and the
great northern shrike pay us a visit,
and hang up a mouse or other tidbit

in the crotch of a tree or on a thorn ;
and there are the pine grosbeaks,
who were so abundant last winter
as to give every one with eyes a
chance for an acquaintance, for they
were as fearless as our chippies, and
fed at our very doors. His cousins,
the purple and the rose-breasted gros-
beaks, are summer residents. The
purple, who, by the way, wears not
a speck of purple, is the most bub-
bling of songsters, and his bright
carmine color makes him noticeable,
while his plainly-dressed mate would
pass for a sparrow. The rose-breast-
ed with his jet black head, black
and white body, rosy neck, and rosy
patches under his wings, is a loud
singer and a beautiful bird.

The clear-voiced thrush family is
known to us by the robin, cat-bird,
olive-backed, brown, tawny, wood,
and hermit thrushes. The cat-bird
and brown thrush hold their listeners
spellbound wath their varied vocal
solos, so full of sweetness and ecstasy.
Cat-bird babies are ravenous eaters,
and the number of hairy, tent-cater-

Shrike.

BIRDS IN THE HEART Of NEW HAMPSHIRE.

Pine Grosbeak.

pillars that are stuffed down their
throats ought to deHght every fruit
grower. Florence Merriman has told
us how to quickly distinguish the
hermit, wood, and tawny thrushes.
The hermit has the tawny color rich-
est on the rump; the wood, on the
head ; and the tawny is reddish
brown above, of the same color
throughout. Words fail to describe
any of their songs, and none fill us
with more worshipful emotions.

The bluebird "with the earth
tinge on his breast and the sky tinge
on his back " — " a poem of April that
God endowed with wings" has not
been so common as heretofore in
many localities. The fact that hun-
dreds of these are sold in Southern
markets to
tickle some
dainty pal- —*||^W
ates shows ^^^^^

that man ^^yl^^^

has griev- ^^V^^^

ously sinned / J ^^

against "the / ^

blue cottage

warbler. ' ' eUck and white Creeping Warbler.

The warbler family is to the orni-
thologist what the Compositse family
is to the botanist, for their endless
combinations in dress suits, their di-
minutive size, their nervous, fidgety
ways make them hard characters for
intimate study. Mrs. Miller says .she
"gave up the warbler family long
ago as too small, too uneasy, too fond
of tree-tops, to waste time and pa-
tience over." However, with per-
severance and a grouping of occa-
sional glimpses, one may identify,
during the season, the black-and-
white creeping, the yellow, the
Nashville, the parula, the Teu-
nessee, the Cape May, the black-
throated green, the black-throated
blue, the black-poll, the Blackbur-
nian, the yellow-rumped, the pine,
the chestnut-sided, the bay-breasted,
the redstart, the Maryland yellow-
throat, and Canadian fly-catching.

The oven-
bird has the
calm nature
and fearless
gaze of a
thrush, and
as it leisure-

ly walks
about over
fallen logs ^, , . c •. ^ >., u,

o Chestnut-Sided Warbler.

or the car-
pet of dead leaves, it proves a fascinat-
ing acquaintance. Her nest, built on
the ground, is so skilfully roofed over
as to defy discovery by any but an
accidental or persistent nest hiuiter.

The scarlet tanager knows that it
is best to keep his brilliant body out
of sight of woman's covetous eyes.
Rack in the solitude of the woods I
saw and heard one singing on a June
day, so surmised his wife was sitting
near by.

BIRDS IN THE HEART OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.

Redstart.

For grace and swiftness of flight,
few birds excel our swallows. This
family is represented b}' the barn
swallow V, ith his deeply forficate tail ;
the cliff- or eaves- swallow, who often
builds vinder the eaves of a barn ; the
bicolored or white-bellied swallow,
by some considered the handsomest
of his illustrious genus ; the bank
swallow, dressed for his cave-like
abode, in mouse-brown and white ;
and the purple martin, who nearly
always uses the boxes provided for

its accommo-
i*^ dation as

nesting plac-
es. All this
class catch
their food on
the wing, and
are invalua-
ble, keeping
insect life in
check. The so-called chimney-swal-
low is no swallow at all, but a swift.
This soot-colored bird glues its semi-
circular nest of dead twigs to the inte-
rior of chimneys.

The vireos or greenlets are among
our most tireless songsters, who sing
even through the heat of the day
when other birds are ' ' faint with the
hot sun." Their pensile nests, sus-
pended from forked twigs, are familiar
along bushy waysides, and are va-
riously ornamented with birch-bark
strips, newspaper, hornet's nest, or
dried leaves. We have the red-eyed,
warbling, blue-headed, and yellow-
throated vireos.

The Towhee bunting or chewink,
busily scratching among the dry
leaves most of the time, often stops to
mount a low branch and sing his
little song, thus affording a better
opportunity for the on-looker to study

his combina-
tion suit of
black, chest-
nut, and white.
The cedar-
or cherry-bird,
with his con-
spicuous crest,
is sleek-coated

Canadian Fly-Catching Warbler. iu a Ouakcr

costume tipped
with red and yellow.

The richly-plumed male indigo-
bird is easily recognized by his ap-
propriate name, but no one would
mistrust that his wife, plainly clad in
warm brown, was of the same family.

Our June bird of the field is the
bobolink. The suit he dons for love-
making is black and whitish, which,
in defiance of all bird fashion or law
of Nature, the crazy fellow wears
backside to or upside down ; for,
whereas. Nature decreed that birds,
and animals in general, should wear
their lightest colors underneath, his
prevailing color below is black, and
above he is more or less white. His
intoxicatingly mad music is also just
what might be expected of such a

Cat-Bird.

BIRDS IN THE HEART OE NEW HAMPSHIRE.

Belted Kingfisher.

r a 1 1 1 e - b r a i 11 e d
specimen of feath-
ered society.
%(<g^^ The meadow-

V./1|l|^ lark, or more

^^^^ ^\^ properly starling,
whose song has a
pleading, plain-
tive tone, as if he
carried a great
sorrow at his heart, is another bird
of the meadow.

The horned lark passes through
here on his migrations North and
South, and so does the American
pipit or titlark.

All flycatchers are awkward, de-
spite their at-
tempts at military
airs. The great-
crested is the most
strikingl}^ dressed,
and has the unac-
countable freak of
weaving into its
nest, so it is said,
the cast skin of a
snake. The phoebe, one of our best
known birds, has a fondness for green,
a taste doubtless inherited from its
ancestors, who loved to build on an
"upright rock, usually over water,
and often itself dripping." Then we
have the king-bird, sometimes called

the tyrant fly-
catcher whose
' ' life is mostly
passed in guer-
rilla warfare
with every oth-
e r bird that
ventures too
near;" the wood
pewee with
mournful voice,

Long-Eared Owl. the IcaSt, the

Crov

Raven.

olive-sided, and Traill's flycatchers.
Blackbirds make a variety amidst
other feathered folk and contain some
characters as black as their coats,
among which are the cow-biid, our
American parasite ; the red-shoul-
dered blackbird with showy epaulets ;
the rusty and purple grackles. the
American raven and the crow. All
these birds are fond of plowed ground,
where insect food is easily procured,
and although some are known to in-
jure crops, they deserve more credit
than they get for ridding the soil of
noxious vermin.

The orchard oriole, infrequently
seen, and the Baltimore oriole, or
"golden robin," are master work-
men at weaving their purse-like nests.
So miscellaneous are the materials
used, one wonders at the "finished
fabric," but "our surprise may be
still greater that the clever craftsmen
can contrive to set the first few fibres
at all in a loom so primitive as that

Pigeon

represented by the slender twigs to
which they are attached." So plain-
ly do they prefer to swing their baby
cradles from long, drooping limbs,
one might suppose the lullaby

" Rock-abye, babj-, in the tree-top,
When the wind blows the enidle will rock,"

to have been composed particularly
for oriole babies.

BIRDS IN THE HEART OE NEW HAMPSHIRE.

Those that beHeve the whippoor-
will and night-hawk identical are mis-
taken. These birds are about the
same size, nocturnal in their habits,
and both sit parallel to the fence rail
on which they may chance to perch.
The night-hawk usually lays her two
eggs on the bare ground or on a
ledge, but the whippoorvvill deposits
hers, oftentimes, on a fallen log or in
a decayed stump.

Barred Owl.

The belted kingfisher, who blows
his fish horn up and down our rivers,
is unique in many respects. His
large bill and head seem out of all
proportion to the rest of his body.
He tunnels into a bank six or eight
feet to find a spot secluded enough
for raising his family, and there they
lead a most unsocial existence as far
as other birds are concerned.

Specimens of the black - billed
cuckoo are not so scarce as of the
yellow-billed. Their nesting habits
are peculiar and protracted, on ac-
count of their inability to lay a sit-
ting of eggs in the brief time allotted
other birds.

Woodpeckers have distinctive fam-

Purple Grackle.

ily traits, which we
may notice from the
study of the hairy,
downy, pileated, yel-
low-bellied, red-
headed, black-
backed-three-toed,
and golden- winged,
— the last being least
deserving of the fam-
ily name, as he does
not always peck wood for his living,
but also forages on the ground. John
Burroughs speaks of the beauty of
the red-headed " as he flits about the
open woods, connecting the trees by
a gentle arc of crimson and white !
This is another bird with a military
look. His deliberate and
dignified ways and his
bright uniform of red,
white, and steel-blue be-
speak him an officer of
rank."

The passenger-pigeons
that used to flock in
such myriads in by-
gone days, are now sel-
dom seen. They have been hunted
and crowded out like the Indians,
and with the advance of civilization
will very likely be driven beyond
our borders or exterminated.

The mourning- dove prefers his
summer residence located near the
water in places where buckwheat is
raised. The noisy and showy blue
jay stays the whole year round. He
pays for the corn he
steals through cracks
in our granaries hy
devouring the eggs of
the tent-caterpillar,
and is known to eat
the caterpillars them-

Rusty Grackle.

selves.

Snowy Owl.

BIRDS IN THE HEART OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.

The owls are well represented hy
the great - horned, screech, long-
eared, short-eared, barred, snowy,
day, Richardson's, and saw- whet.
For all we have so many species.

birds are of such size as to be
rather awe-inspiring, and their nests
are huge affairs that are beheld from
afar, so it is well for them that they
choose secluded places for breeding,

./W-.^

J^^

Sharp-Shinned Owl.

Saw-Whet Owl.

Grebe.

glimpses of live owls are few and far
between, for they go abroad by night
and they are noiseless except when
they give voice to their sentiments in
tones to send chills up and
down the backs of larger ani-
mals than. the poor mice upon
which they pre)'.

Some of our hawks are
rather confusing to identify,
for we have no less than a
dozen kinds; the marsh,
duck, pigeon, sparrow, Coo-
per's, red-shouldered, red-
tailed, broad-winged, rough-
legged, sharp-shinned, fish-,
and American go.shawk.
They range in size from the
one with wings eight inches
long to the one whose extent
is fifty inches. To the same family
belong the golden and bald eagles,
both of which are rare residents,
the golden especially so. These

Bald Eagle.
hiiiiiatiii-i' I'lidiiai'i:.

else few eggs would be overlooked

by amateur collectors.

Among the game-birds are the

woodcock and Wilson's snipe, who
often escape the unpractised
hunter by their irregular
flight ; the greater yellow-
legs, whose shrill cries are
.so easily imitated that they
are often thus lured within
gunshot of hidden sports-
men ; the upland, the black-
bellied, and the golden plov-
ers, well known to gunners ;
a species of prairie hen ; the
quail or Bob White ; and the
partridge. Chickens of the
last are wary little things
that ramble about as soon as
hatched, but hide so quickly

it takes a nimble person to catch one.
Besides several of the preceding

birds clas.sed as water-fowl, others of

this group are not wanting. We

THE SLEEPERS.

have three grebes — Holboell's, the
horned, and the pied-billed. The
crazy laughter of loons (the red-
throated and the great northern
driver) is echoed back from sur-
rounding hills, and their expert
diving renders them dif^cult of cap-
ture. The dovekie is a Northern
bird, properly belonging to coast
regions, but sometimes taken here.
For occasional visitors also are two of

The great blue heron, whose ex-
tent is seventy inches, is considerable
to look upon, not only for his size,
but also for his make-up. His smaller
relatives, the black-crowned night
heron and the green heron, frequent
our lake .shores and marshes, as well
as the American coot, American bit-
tern, and the Virginia and Carolina
rails. The teeter-birds or sandpipers
(the least, solitar}', and spotted) run

the three New England mergansers up and down our river banks and

— the American and the hooded, beaches, and, lastly, the birds we

Among the many varieties of ducks always associate with the water, who

there are the black, wood, ruddy, ride upon her waves and feed from

American scaup, lesser .scaup, ring- her storehouse, the herring gull and

necked, buffle-head, blue-winged Bonaparte's gull, are not confined to

teal, green-winged teal, American
golden-eye, and American scoter.
The common wild goose and the
Brant goo.se are shot now and then.
Mr. Burroughs sa^^s, as he saw a flock
"harrowing the sky northward,"
' ' How my desire goes with them ;
how something in me wild and mi-
gratory plumes itself and follows
fast ! ' '

the seacoast, but visit even central
New Hampshire.

Some of these water birds nest
here, some are visitors from the
North, but all are birds whose nest-
ing habits are none too well known,
so to be able to study the family his-
tory of any one of them during the
breeding season would be an occa-
sion any bird lover might envy.

Note. — I am indebted to Mr. Charles F. Goodhue, of Webster, for aid concerning- the water
birds, and to the kind courtesies of INIrs. Sarah Jane Baker, of Sutton, for the privilege of photo-
graphing several specimens from her cabinets.

THE SEEEPERS.

By JoJni Wutce Cheney.

" The roses die to-morrow,
Hearken for my sake ;

To-morrow 't will be sorrow;
Wake, oh, wake!"

We sleep, while calling, calling,

Love to wake us tries ;
"The leaves will soon be falling.

Rise, oh, rise ! "

No more her voice is calling.
And the pale rains weep, —

The pale rains, falling, calling, -
" Sleep, oh, sleep ! "

THE TOWN OF WOODvSTOCK.

By J list us Conrad.

^^^^^^^^ESTLING in the shadow
/P^fe\ \vl, of the majestic Fran-
conia raiisre of the White
Movnitaiiis is the quiet
town of Woodstock. Ten
years ago comparatively few people
were acquainted with this little cor-
ner of New Hamp-
shire, with its
charming moun-
tain scenery, its
glens, its quiet
vales, its pure and
invigorating wa-
ters, and its lofty
mountain peaks.
But since the rail-
road opened up
the Pemigewasset
valley to the out-
si de world, the
town has become
an important fac-
tor in the line that
goes to make up
quiet retreats for
summer boarders
and tourists.

The history of
the town is some-
what disconnected, on account of the
town not preser\'ing well the early
records. The first grant of the terri-
tory that now comprises the town was
made to Kli Demerrit in 1763, under
the name of Fairfield. vSoon after, the
first settlement was made on the east
bank of the Pemigewasset river by

Jackman Falls

James McNorton, who, at the break-
ing out of the War of Independence,
went forth from his newly-made home,
leaving wife and little ones behind,
never to return. At this time sev-
eral settlements had been made,
and Fairfield furnished four soldiers

who fought under
Washington. Tra-
dition tells us how
the good wives
of these men re-
mained at home
and carried on
the farms, cleared
land, and cared
for the little ones.
After the close
of the war, several
more settlements
were made, and in
1799, the legisla-
ture granted a
town charter, un-
der the name of
Peeling. The
finst town meeting
that we find any
record of, was held
in 1800, at which
twenty votes were cast for governor.
The names of Selingham, \'incent,
Demeritt, and Baron figure conspicu-
ously in the early history of the town
down to 1840. It is said that the first
settler, James McNorton, perished at
Valley P'orge. His name does not ap-
pear in the early history of Peeling.

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK.

Mountain View House — S. S. Sharon.

In 1S40, the residents of the town
liecame dissatisfied with the name of
the town, and through an act of the
legislature, the name of Peeling was
changed to Woodstock. For many
years North Woodstock was the ter-
minus of the highway that led into
the Pemigewasset valley.

About 1820, a road was constructed
through Kinsman Notch, that led by
Bog lake, and which connected the
valley with the town of Landaff.
This road was later discontinued,
and a highway was built through the
Gordon Pass, or what is more com-
monly known as "The Meadows."
This road was used for a stage road,
and led to that part of Easton now
Wildwood, and was not discontinued
until a road was constructed through
the Franconia Notch.

For years previous to this the won-
ders of the Franconia Notch had been
known to civilized man, but for some
reason that is unaccounted for to-day,
it was quite well into the nineteenth
century before any move was made
to attract the attention of the outside
world to it.

It is claimed by .some writers that
the Old Man of the Mountain and
the Flume were discovered in 1805,
but these wonders were no doubt

known to some long
before this. This region
was a favorite haunt of
the red men, and it is
stated on reasonable au-
thority, that the friends
of Stark made the first
discovery while search-
ing for him after his
capture by the Indians.
History speaks of vStark
and his party penetrat-
ing the wilderness as
as Baker river in Ply-
mouth, and it is reasonable to as-
sume that the Indians took the
most direct route north, which was
through this pass. If the Indians
w^ere acquainted with the geograph-
ical conditions of the countr}-, there
would be no doubt in our mind
about this being the route taken by

far north

Agassiz Basin.

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK

Bell's Cascade.

Stark and his captors. Tradition
tells ns that the great Chief Pemige-
wasset and his tribe used to worship
this stone face, and that there was
a burying-place for Indians on the
shores of Profile lake. We mention
these points for the reason that from
an historical
point of view the
Franconia Notch
and Woodstock,
together with the
country r o u n d
about, are linked
as one.

Settlers came
to Peeling slow-
ly', for in 1820
we find recorded
the doings of a
town meeting
when only thirty-
five \'otes were

cast, a gain of onh' fifteen in twenty
years. The twent}- years that followed
seemed to be more prosperous, for in
1840 seventy-one votes were thrown,
thirty-two being for "Tippecanoe and
Tyler, too." This was the first time
that history records any political
demon.stration in the town. A large
platform was erected in the apple
orchard of the late Col. Benjamin
Barron, and there were political
speakers galore. Four barrels of
hard cider were set on end on one
side of the platform, with one end
of each knocked out, and the politi-
cal " cranks " who had gathered from
miles around did not stop to read the
notice, "Help yourselves," until after
the cider was all gone.

At the next state election following
the "hard cider" campaign, loi votes
were ca.st for a member of the legis-
lature. Dea. Benjamin Fox received
fifty-one, and was the first Whig to
represent the town.

It was about this time that the res-
idents became interested in another
branch of business aside from farm-
ing. The Norcross Lumber com-
pany connnenced operations in the

m^i.

,. ■-^'■J

ite

-.-•-

..^n

Deer Park Hotel— J R. Elliott.

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK.

* -^

1 1 uuu

MM y uiu

i 1

ii! ftiaiai

11 n

* ^ki^^^^JB^L^^^^^^^^—

|— 1

The Alpine.

valley, and in consequence many new
buildings were erected, logging roads
were constructed in all directions, a
dam was built across the head of
McNorton falls, and everything put
on business airs. This company con-
tinued doing business for many years,
during which Woodstock was a busi-
ness centre of no small degree, being
the starting point for the enormous
log drives that annually passed down
the river to I^owell.

The old company store, that was
operated by William (i. Hull and
later on by Thomas J. Crilman, was
the "hub" of the town, where a
large trade was carried on. The most

conspicuous person connected with
the lumbering business, as well as
the general welfare of the town, was
the late Hon. N. H. Weeks, who
was for man\' consecutive years a"
member of the legislature, and at
one time councilor from this district.
It was largely through his efforts that
Woodstock was connected with a rail-
way service, which was the means of
bringing it to its present standing
among towns. Soon after the rail-
road reached North Woodstock, the
late Hon. S. N. Bell conceived the
idea of erecting a large summer hotel

Russell House — G. F. Russell.

near the station on a graceful and
charming plateau that commands a
sweeping view of the • valley both
north and south. Thus we have one
of the finest summer resorts in New

Devil's Eddy.

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK.

Russell Falls.

England, viz., the Deer Park hotel,
which we shall refer to later on.

It is a fact worthy of note, that the
pioneer settlements of all the towns
of New Hampshire, as soon as possi-

parisli had a settled preacher. We
find in an old town record of 1826,

Fern Hill Farm — S. G. Sawyer.

ble, organized a church, and pinned
their faith to some creed, whatever it
might be. This town was somewhat
slow in that line, for it was 1807 be-
fore the settlers formed a church
association. In this movement, we
find the names of Barrens, Selling-
hams, Sawyers, and Foxes most in-
strumental in founding the Baptist
church. After a struggle, an edifice
was erected, where meetings were
held, and a parsonage was built, but
it was not for several years that the

the following :-

"J'o/i-d, That the town of PeeliiiR allow the
Elder John vSaunders the use of the parsonage
and garden spot for one year, providing he
preaches two good sermons each and every
Sunday during the year, and on week days at-
tend to his own business.

During the thirties, a Rev. Mr.
Roper settled with the parish, and
for twelve 3-ears he guided the
church. Besides being a preacher,
he was a man of great business ca-
pabilities and enterprise. He built
roads and starch mills, and was the
pioneer of the Potato Hill district,
where he built two mills for the pur-

The Innette— W. L. E. hunt.

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCI^.

pose of manufacturing potato starch.
He built up the Baptist church from
a handful of members to 150 com-
municants. During his stay, the
first church edifice was burned, and
he traveled all through the state, so-
liciting contributions until he raised
funds enough to rebuild it. This
building is still standing at Lower
Woodstock, but has no settled min-
ister.

It was mainly through Rev. Mr.
Roper that the name of Peeling was
changed to Woodstock in 1840.
Speaking of this old building brings

I did not mind it then, for I was lis-
tening to the singers.

As far as North Woodstock is con-
cerned, great changes have taken
place there within a few years. The
old church that used to stand close
by the cemetery has been moved up
into the village and a tower added to
it, and from that tower clangs the
bell calling the villagers to worship.
When we were boys, James Burney
used to be sexton of the church, look-
ing well to the building of the fires
and all other matters that pertained
to the comfort of the congregation.

A Glimpse of North Woodstock.

to memory the days of our boyhood,
when we used to go to church Sun-
days and prayer-meetings during the
week. In those days we had some
good singers, and the "old gallery',"
as it was termed, that reached across
one end of the church, would be full,
making a choir that would jar the
shingles on the roof. It was cus-
tomary, when the minister called for
the singing, for the congregation to
rise and turn around, so to get a
good view of the singers. I remem-
ber that I used to sit in the back
pew, and had to cant my head l)ack
so far that my neck would ache, but

After the lapse of manj^ j^ears, we
find James still at his post as sexton
of the church. Dea. David Sanborn,
as well as Elder Washington Russell,
used to occupy front pews, while near
by sat Eben Drew and John Fisk.
The last three have "passed on," but
the pleasant face of Uncle David will
be seen in his accustomed place in
the new church as the Rev. Mr.
Wilson reads from the good Book.
Amona: others who have seen so
many changes and improvements,
and who will always be found in
their pews, are R. C. Jackman and
Arthur Hunt.

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK

W L. E. Hunt.

'r,

E. S. Sanborn.

Scott N. Weeks.

Leroy Sawyer.

lyeaving the church subject, we
find many whose names are identified
with the business interests of the
place, men that have done much to
encourage the growth ol the village
and town, and are worthy of mention.

vStephen S. Sharon is no doubt one
of the oldest boarding-house men in
town, and was the pioneer to erect
the first boarding-house after the ad-
vent of the railroad, viz., the Moun-
tain View House. I mean by this,
that he erected the first one in the
village. About the same time A. \V.
Saw3'er built the Fain-iew House.
Following these, many others were
built, including the Deer Park Hotel,
the largest one in the vallev, which
is under the management of Joseph
R. Elliott. Then comes the Alpine
House: the Cascade House, C. H.
and L. H. Russell, proprietors; the
Russell Hotise, G. F. Russell, pro-
prietor; the lunette, W. L,. E. Hunt,
proprietor; the Parker House, C. L.
Parker, proprietor ; the Three Rivers
House, W. R. Sharon, proprietor;
North Woodstock House. W. F.
Butler, proprietor.

Leaving the boarding business, we
find other branches of business, con-
ducted by such men as H. S. San-
born, Ned Sleeper, Robert Newman,
P". S. Merrill, and James Fadden,
who are storekeepers. Then we
have with us P^. S. Sanborn, who
came from Paconia, and who has
built up a lucrative photograph busi-
ness.

One of the chief industries that for
many years was of great importance
to Woodstock was the tannery,
operated by Joseph W. Campbell,
who on se\'eral occasions was a mem-
ber of the legislature. Quite a \iP
lage grew up arountl this business.

R. C. Jackman.

^ ^ >y

Dea. David Sanborn,

E. E. Woodbury.

Frank C. Morey.

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK.

Fairview House — A W. Sawyer.

but the growth stopped when the
tannery was destroyed by fire a few
years since.

It is near by these ruins that the
tourists find Mirror lake, one of the
most beautiful sheets of water in our
valley. The reflections cast upon
these waters in a calm day are some-
thing phenomenal. Hundreds of
people visit the lake every season,
being drawn hither by these wonder-
ful reflections.

Aside from this lake, Russell lake,
which lies back of Russell moun-
tain, is the most picturesque body of
water in town. The high mountains
that surround it slope gracefully to
the water's edge, making
a grand picture for the art-
ist's brush. This lake was
discovered by accident by
John Russell, in 1798,
while on the trail of a
bear. Kll)Ow lake is sit-
uated in the western part
of the town at the ba.se of
Mount Cushman, near the
new road that connects
Warren with Woodstock.

People have said that
Mt. Cilley was so named

because one mu.st have been
silly to have ever thought
of going there to live, but
we find that such is not
the true fact. The part of
Woodstock generally known
as Mt. Cilley took its name
from the first .settlers of that
region about seventy - five
years ago. In those days
• people were more inclined

to spread out from the cen-
tres, and would travel and
work back on the moun-
tains just as long as they
could find good water; and this, no
doubt, is the reason why Mt. Cillej',
so called, was at one time the most
prosperous farming community in
town. Situated as it was, over be-
hind Smith's mountain, out of sight
and hearing, it was a little world all
by itself.

When this neighborhood was in
the zenith of its glory there were
over twenty good-sized farms, well
tilled. There was a large school-
house where over thirty boys and
girls got their schooling. This same
school-house also served as a house
of worship on the Sabbath, where
Elder Hezekiah Smith held forth.

North Woodstock House — W. F. Butler.

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK.

Three Rivers House — W. R. Sharon.

Many prominent men got their edu-
cation in this old building, that to-
da}' is moldering in the dust.

Among them are Thomas J. vSmith,
the popular livery stable man at
North Woodstock; R. C. Jackman,
carpenter and builder ; Moses Saw-
yer, farmer and boarding-house man ;
Arthur Hunt, justice of the peace
and ex-member of the legislature ;
Lynian Jackman, the well-known in-
surance man of Concord, and others,
who all stand ready to fight the mo-
ment one sa^'s a word in reproach of
old Mt. Cilley, their boyhood home.
To-day this once prosperous school
district is deserted, and is used for a
horse pastvire. When the
flag was fired on at Fort
Sumter, emigration from
Mt. Cilley had commenced,
and before the close of the
war all the inhabitants had
made a grand exit.

People go to far-off lands
and ascend to the summits
of the various mountains
to get a view of Ciod's
earth, little knowing of
the natural grandeur there
is right here at home.

City people come and tarry with us
during the sununer months, and .sev-
enty-five per cent, of them go away
without enjoying one of the grandest
sights on earth, just because there is
not a proper highway to Mt. Cilley.
One day in the month of June, 1895,
the writer chanced to be on a hig-h
point of land on the old Hunt place.
It was about five o'clock in the after-
noon ; the air was as clear as crystal,
and the sun cast its golden rays over
the valleys and hills to the north
in such a way that every vale and
ridge, nook and corner showed itself
to make one of the grandest sights we
ever witnessed. At our feet, nest-
ling way down in the valley, was the
beautiful village of North Woodstock ;
directly in front was the Old Man of
the Mountain, looking us squarely in
the eye ; a little to the right was the
towering form of L,afayette ; on the
extreme right was Conwa>' range ;
away in through the East Branch
valle\' was the king of them all, Mt.
Washington, and on the extreme left
was the lone sentinel, Moosilauke,
guarding the entrance. Round about
us were the ruins of farm-houses, and
on every side were stone walls, that
stand as monuments in memorv of

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F. P. Weeks.

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tNi

Cascade House — L. H, Russell.

Sunset Fatm— William R. Beard.

S. S. Sharon.

L. H. Russell.

W. R. Beard.

I. E. Hanson's Block.

Iri E. Hanson,

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK.

the thrifty farmers who once Hved
here. We ahiiost fancied that we
heard "Jeff" vSniith on the other
side calling the sheep, and the rnni-
ble of the old Jackman mill down in
the valley.

There is no place in New England
that can furnish a more pleasing sight
to lovers of Nature than the various
locations on Mt. Cilley. Could there
be a good road built, it would afford
one of the grandest retreats for sum-
mer tourists in America. There is
already a route proposed, that, in our
mind, would be a feasible one. It
leaves the main road at Woodstock
village and follows the old ' ' Potato
Hill" road to its terminus, thence
to Mt. Cilley by way of the vSamuel
Smith place. This would be a short
and pleasant drive, and could be
built with comparatively small ex-
pense. It would pass by the "Glen-
dale cascade," on the Glover brook,
and many other points of interest.
The time is not far distant when
there will be a move made in this
direction.

There are very strong proofs that
impress on our minds the theory that
this valley was once inhabited by
a race of beings long before the
red men came. Historians tell us
about a race of people that once in-
habited parts of North America and
Mexico, called the Mound Build-
ers. It seems that these pre-his-
toric beings were a strange but in-
dustrious people, and, instead of liv-
ing in wigwams or log dwellings,
they lived in large mounds made
from loam and sand. According to
the theories advanced by eminent
writers upon the subject of mound
building, there is ample proof to con-
vince us that we have two of these

ancient mounds in the Pemigewasset
valley, one in Woodstock and one at
West Thornton.

The Wood.stock mound is situated
on the east side of the river, one and
one half miles from the railroad sta-
tion, on the farm owned by John
vSchofield. This great curiosity is
located close by the road in the cen-
tre of a "basin piece" of land, and
is surrounded b}- a handsome field.
It rises to a height of sixty feet, and
is shaped like the pyramids of Ivgypt,
with the exception of having but
three corners, while the pyramids

Kiameche Cottage — Col. Horace N. Fisher.

have four. It is mostly covered by
scrub bushes, there being consider-
able grass in some places. Taking-
all things into consideration, this
ancient mound is one of the greatest
curiosities of our modern times, and
is well worth going miles to see.
Looking at it from all directions, its
form is the same, being well propor-
tioned in every manner. For this
reason alone, one is easily convinced
that during some age before history
was written, this hill was built by
human hands.

It has always been claimed by
some residents of the town that there
was treasure buried in this mound.
There is a iientlenuin li\ing in Wood-

THE TOWN OF WOODSTOCK

The Old Milldam.

stock to-da)', who, when a bo}-, in
company with some other courageous
young men, dug for this treasure.
He can tell you how they took a
branch of witch hazel, and in one end
inserted a piece of silver, and walked
over the mound, holding it firmly in
the hands, and how, when they had
got to a certain spot, the branch bent
downward, twisting the bark from the

watch the river for the canoes of
opposing tribes.

For a thousand years and more,
this ancient piece of architecture has
stood the storms of time, and still
retains its original form, according to
the theories of historians. For num-
berless centuries, this mound has
stood as a monument, marking the
graves of an extinct race of beings
that lived ages before the Western
Hemisphere was known to civilized
man. Its majestic form is in full
view from the railroad across the
river, and its summit affords an ex-
cellent view of the ' ' calm and glid-
ing " Pemigewasset. It stands, as it
always has and alwaj's will, shrouded
in a silent mystery, to be unraveled
only by imagination.

During the month of October, 1 798,
as near as we can trace back from the
memory of old residents, there was
erected, one mile from where the vil-
lage of North Woodstock now is, a
new house. According to tradition,
this building was dedicated on Octo-
ber 29, with imposing ceremonies in

wood and blistering the hands of the

young man who carried it. He can

tell you how, with shovels in hand,

they went at it, and how, like busy

bees, they toiled on until they struck

something hard like an iron vessel or keeping with the times, for in those

chest, and how just then a horrible days such a house was considered al-

looking man passed close by them, most a palace.

while their hair rose on end, and The people congregated from the

when they resumed their

work the supposed treasure

had disappeared. This party

of fortune seekers quit this

enchanted spot forever, and

from that day to this the

mystery remains unsolved.

There is a legend con-
nected with this ancient
piece of earth, that tells us
that the great Indian chief,
Pemigewasset, while on the
war ])ath, used to ascend to

this summit of mound to The oldest House m Town.

FAITH AND HOPE.

scattered .settlements to do honor to
Amos Bryant, who owned the best
house in PeeHng. and who on that
day took handsome Margaret Pink-
ham home as his wife. The house
in (|ue.stion was built with hewn tim-
bers from old growth pine, and dove-
tailed together at the corners. It
was a large house, with three rooms
on the finst floor and one on the
second floor, and had one door and
four windows. In tho.se days, when
the valley was new to the world, and
the .settlers were struggling for exist-
ence, it required a man of some
means to own a house built with
hewn logs, and thus, on October 29,
1798, Amos Bryant was looked up to
as the man with the prettiest wife
and finest house in all Peeling. It
has been estimated how much old
rum was drunk on that day, but the
writer does not remember the num-
ber of gallons. Tradition tells us
how this happy couple passed ten
3-ears in their mansion by the "river
side," and how Amos Br3ant cleared
and tilled his farm, and how, when he
had got to be a " fore-handed" man,
he sickened and died, just in the
bloom of manhood, and left behind a
young widow and one baby boy,
whom all of our townspeople remem-

ber as the late James Bryant, who dietl
a short time ago. P'or four years, Mrs.
Bryant remained a widow, and then
.she became the wife of the late Rev.
Washington Russell, who came to
li\-e with her in this same log-
house.

This log-house, erected in 1798, is
still standing in good shape on the
John Smith farm, only a few feet from
its original foundation. People little
think as they pass up and down the
roadway of this building, that nearly
a centur}' ago it was the best house
in town. lyittle do they think it was
the home of a minister who told their
ancestors how to live. On many a
Sabbath the people in years long
gone by have gathered in and around
this grand old house for worship. It
has covered the heads of many a
preacher of renown during sessions
of quarterly meetings. In this log
house, the Rev. Amos Br3'ant Russell
was born seventy-two years ago.
Seventy-four 3-ears ago, the mother
of the writer first saw the light of day
here, and many is the time .she has
spoken to me about this old relic and
many the interesting story in connec-
tion with it. Although nearly a cen-
tur}- old, this house has not lo.st its
usefulness.

FAITH AND HOPE.

By Charles Henry Chcslcy.

Faith whispered : " Trust, and soon thy cares shall flee.
As flees the darkness at the wake of dawn ; ' '

And, when I trusted, lo ! the clouded lea

Grew clear as sunuuer skies, for Hojie was born.

A Sweet-Pea Composition.

A vSTUDY OF vSWEET-PEAvS.

PART I.

By Clarence Moores Weed.

T is said that the sweet-
pea was first cuhivated
ill Sicily, whence it has
2; been carried over a large
portion of the civilized
^-S world. It has been grown
in England for nearly two centuries,
although its pleasing Eatin iiaiiie —
Lafhyriis odorafiis — was given to it
by Einnaeus, in 1753. At that time
it was well known in Great Britain,
there being a white and a pale red va-
riety ; the latter even then was called
the Painted Eady sweet-pea ; and, in
1788, a purple variety was intro-
duced.

Our great-great-grandmothers ap-
parently brought seeds of the sweet-
pea to America with them, and grew
the flowers in their primitive gar-
dens. The "Gardeners' Calendar,"
published in 1806, mentions the
white, blue, dark purple, scarlet, and
Painted Lad}- varieties as available
for American flower lovers. During
the first half of this century sweet-peas
appear to have been grown here and
there in the borders of the old-fash-
ioned gardens, the Painted Lady be-
ing the favorite sort. Indeed, no spe-
cial attention was paid to the sweet-
pea b}' the general public nuich before
the beginning of the present decade,
since when the introduction of im-
proved varieties has carried them
rapidly into popular favor. "And

how lovely they are ! ' " writes one of
their devotees. "People seemed to
have forgotten them until ten years
ago ; thev were the flowers of the
'old gardens.' And then Dame
Fashion took them iip, — by a strange
inadvertence making a happy choice,
— and, strangely enough, she has not
yet discarded them. They were too
lovely for her favor to spoil them ;
l^ut I am not sure
that those of us
who love flowers
for what they are,
will not find them
sweeter and dear-
er when she shall
have passed them
by." Yet, when
— following the
pleasing custom
of the Japanese —
the American
aristocracy of
flowers is finally
chosen, I can
this gracious blossom will be found
therein ; and that its manifold attrac-
tions will never appeal in vain to the
sympathies of a cultured people.

A score of years ago it would have
been impossible to arouse such an in-
terest in the sweet-pea as exists to-
da\-, simply because the modern im-
l>roved varieties had not been devel-
oped. Fortunately, there came to the

Fig. I — ASweet-Pea Flower.

but believe that

A STUDY OF SWEET- PEAS.

help of the plant about that time, one
of those patient garden poets who
express the love of beauty in their
souls, not throug-h the printed word
but through the subtile laws of the
living world. At Wens, in Shrop-
shire, luigland, Mr. Henr}- Eck-
ford began the cultivation of the ex-
isting varieties with a view to their
improvement. To the loving pa-
tience of his genius, we are chiefly
indebted for the sweet-peas with
which we adorn our lives to-day.
"When I first took up the sweet-
pea," he writes, "there were six or
eight distinct varieties in cultivation,
and experts in the art, as far as I
could learn, had come to the conclu-'
sion that it could not be further im-
proved ; and in the first two or three

Fig. 2 — Bumble-Bee Visiting Sweet-Pea Blossom.

generations of the work, this ap-
peared a fair conclusion. But I had
been for many years working on the
improvement of various florist flowers,
which work had proved so eminently
beneficial that a first rebuff did not
deter me from further attempts."
Patience has had its due reward ; a
large proportion of the hundred or
more varieties now at our disposal
originated with Henry Eckford.

I know no one better fitted to ex-
plain the methods of im])roving
flowers than Professor E. H. Bailey,
of Cornell University. "The proc-
ess," he writes, "is simple enough, but,
like most simple things, it is hard to
learn and harder to perform. The
most important part of the process is
a well-laid plan of action on the part
of the operator. He nuist
determine what improve-
ment the plant needs.
Then he must study the
plant closely, to learn its
habit of variation, and how
it adapts itself to the dif-
erent conditions in which
it grows. He will then put
himself in sympathy with
the plant, simply trying to
improve or augment the lit-
tle differences which appear,
and not set himself against
the line of evolution of the
plant by attempting the im-
possible. He has a picture
in his mind of a deep, clear,
pink flower. Very well ;
he goes through the rows
of his pink-flowered varie-
ties and marks those plants
whose flowers are nearest
his ideal. The seeds of
these plants are separately
saved, and sown. Amongst

A STUDY OF SWEET-PEAS.

Fig. 3 — New Lottie Eckford Sweet-Peas. Natural Size.

the offspring he again selects, and
he again sows, taking care that
his stock does not become crossed
with some other type. Presently,
his new color is obtained, the seeds
have got in the habit of ' coming
true,' and the brood is given a
new name and introduced to the
trade. More often, however, the
operator has no distinct ideal in his
mind, but he watches his plants care-
fully, and every marked departure or
sport from the type is saved and
sown. From such sports the greater
part of our novelties of all annual
plants have come. The sports are
frequent enough, but it requires rare
judgment to distinguish those which
will likely perpetuate themselves,
and to carry on the subsequent selec-
tion, by means of which they are

freed from their impurities or the ten-
dency still to sport. If desired varia-
tions do not appear, then the opera-
tor may endeavor to start it off by a
radical change of soil or treatment,
or possibly by crossing. All this
means that the cultivator nuist be-
come intimately familiar with his
subject before he can expect to make
much headway in the origination of
novelties. So it has come that the
modern improved plants owe their
development largely to one or two
careful and patient persons in each
generation."

The structure of the sweet-pea
blossom is simple and easily compre-
hended. Like all perfect flowers it
con.sists of four sets of organs. The
sepals, which taken together form
the calyx, are the small, green

A STUDY OF SWEET- PEAS.

pointed bodies at the base of the
flower on the outside. The petals,
which as a whole form the corolla,
constitute what we usually think of
as the flower. The large upright
one at the top of the blossom is called
the standard (Fig. i, S); the two
recurved ones in the middle of the
flower are called the wings ( W ) ; and
the small, lower one is the keel (K).
Within the keel are found the sta-

The bee, meanwhile, sucks the nectar
in the base of the flower, and when it
flies to another blossom carries pollen
with it. But the increase in the .size
of the blo.ssoms by the artificial selec-
tion of man appears to have defeated
the natural purpose of the flower for
now the bumblebee nearly always
lights upon the side, on one wing, in
the position shown in Fig. 2, in.sert-
ing its tongue and sucking the nectar

Fig. 4 — The Primrose Sweet-Pea. Natural Size.

mens, which contain the yellow pol-
len ; and the pistil, from which the
seed develops. In a state of nature
this whole arrangement has reference
to the attraction of insects for carry-
ing the pollen from flower to flower :
the bright petals, especiall\' the
standard, attract the bee, which
alights upon the wings, straddling
them, and thus dejiressing ])otli
wings and keel until the pollen and
the end of the pistil come in contact
with the under surface of the bee.

without coming in contact with either
the stamens or the pistil.

In regard to shape, there are sev-
eral distinct types of sweet-pea blos-
soms. The large-flowered hooded
form is illustrated in Fig. 3, which
shows four aspects of the New L,ottie
ICckford, natural size. This ap-
proaches the best I^ckford type,
which reaches its climax in the beau-
tiful blossoms of the Blanche Burpee
sweet-pea. The standard is sym-
metrical, l)ut full of graceful curves ;

-/ STUDY OF SWEET-PEAS.

on the sides below it curves outward,
and above, inward, curving- back
again in the central portion above to
form a broad wedge. The wings are
somewhat horizontal, and cur\-etl
downward only slightly at the edges.
In the New Lottie Eckford, the
standard is somewhat similar in
shape, although the curves are more
accentuated, while the wings are
decidedl}- more vertical, and have
their edges folded in to a greater ex-

ones. One of the best of these — the
Bride of Niagara — is repi'esented
natural size in Fig. 6. There are
many other sorts which, under good
culture, ha\e a small proportion of
their flowers double ; several of these
have been developed by selection,
and are offered for sale as double
varieties. In place of the one stand-
ard of the single flower, the Bride of
Niagara has two or three. Only ])art
of the flowers are double ; generally

Fig. 5 — Two Types of Sweet-Peas: Blanche Ferry on the Right, Gray Friar on the Left. Natural Size.

tent. These ma}- be considered good
examples of the hooded type, to
which the most desirable varieties
belong.

There are many sorts of sweet-peas
in which the .standard is either flat-
tened or rolled liack ; the Blanche
Ferry is an example of the former,
and the Primrose (Fig. 4) of the
latter. In such cases there is usually
a greater angle l)etween the standard
and wings, as seen from the side,
than in the hoodetl forms.

The seedsmen now offer yet an-
other tj'pe of sweet peas — the double

the lowest blossom of each tress is
double ; often the two lower ones ;
rarely all three. The form of the
single flower is shown in the upper
blossom in Fig. 6.

The doubling of the .sweet-pea is
certainly not to be encouraged by
lovers of the flower. We have plenty
of double blossoms. The double bal-
sam shows what we might come to
b\- continued work in doubling the
sweet-pea. But who would care for
such a forndess, \-ulgar effect as
would l)e produced by double bal-
sams upon .sweet-pea .stems ? ' ' The

A STUDY OF SWEET-PEAS.

form of the sweet-pea," says Pro-
fessor Iv. H. Bailey, "is its peculiar
beaut}-. The broad, trim standard is
the most perfect surface for the dis-
play of color, and an effective shield
and foil for the contrasting pigments
of the wings and keel. When that
simple standard is displaced by two
or three, and the shield becomes
shapeless and contorted, the flower is
no longer the sweet-pea of the dear

Fig. 6 — Bride of Niagara Sweo1-Pea. Natural Size.

old gardens, but is apt to be a muss}-
and impudent thing."

There are now listed more than a
hundred named varieties of sweet-
peas. Within the present limits, I
am only able to mention compara-
tively few of the l^etter sorts.

The most popular variety of
American origin is the Blanche
P'erry sweet-pea, which was devel-
oped in northern New York in the
garden of a farmer's wife, who Ijegan
with the Painted Lady and saved the

seeds year after year. ' ' In the heavy
loam of her garden, and with the
nuich shorter season of growth there
than in Europe, this made a more
rapid growth, and annually became
more dwarf in habit. At the same
time it became a 'cropper,' — that is,
all the flowers which in other cli-
mates would have a much longer
period in which to develop, here ap-
peared nearl}- all at the same time if
not cut. Thus, in a few
Axars, a dwarf and ^•ery
free-flowering type was
established, which re-
mains constant in our
country." The variety
thus almost unconscious-
ly developed was discov-
ered by a firm of seed
dealers, given its present
name, and introduced to
flower lovers every-
where. What appears
to be a somewhat similar
improvement of the old
variety is frequently
called the I mp roved
Painted Lady.

The most noted ama-
teur sweet-pea specialist
in America is the Rev.
W. T. Hutchins of In-
dian Orchard, Mass. Some new va-
rieties have already been introduced
by him, and his writings have done
much to stimulate the growth of
these lovely flowers. Several excel-
lent varieties have also originated
with professional seed growers in
California.

In the following pages, I have
attempted to record, by pen and cam-
era, the results of a series of amateur
studies of sweet-])eas, made cliiefl}'
from the point of view of their decora-

A STUDY OF SWEET- PEAS.

Fig. 7 — Blanche Burpee Sweet-Peas,

tive uses. These charming flowers
lend themselves readil}- to such
studies on account of the diversit}' of
their colors and the peculiar grace of
their habits of growth. The many
improved varieties now upon the
market may be easily cultivated by
any one, and the results here shown
may be duplicated in any home.
The material for the studies was
obtained from my own garden, and
those of various fellow-mem-
bers of the Durham Flower
Club, as well as from the
large collection of sweet-
peas grown in 1896 in the
gardens of the New Hamp-
shire College, under the
management of Prof. F. W.
Rane and Mr. Leigh Hunt,
to whom my thanks are
rendered for privileges re-
ceived.

It has been saitl that
sweet-peas should be clas-
sified according to form
rather than color. True
as this may be from the
point of view of the garden

botanist, it is not applicable when
these flowers are considered from the
point of view of their decorative uses,
for which purpose color gives them
their chief value. Consequently, in
the following studies, I ha\'e grouped
the varieties according to similaritj^
of color rather than of form.

THE WHITE VARIETIES.

No variety of white .sweet-pea can

Fig. 8 — Lemon Queen Sweet-Peas.

A STUDY OF SWEET-PEAS.

Fig. 9 — Lady Beaconsfield Sweet-Peas.

compare with the Blanche Burpee for
perfection of form, purit}' of color,
and vigor of growth. One of the
latest of Mr. Kckford's creations, it is
the queen of sweet-peas. The blos-
som is of the best hooded type, of
largest size and firm in texture. The
opening buds are of a beautiful prim-
rose yellow color, blending prettily
with the full}' opened flowers.

L^ike all the white sweet-peas, the
Blanche Burpee can be used to ad-
vantage in many combinations. It
is beautiful alone, in a simple jar
with sufficient sprays of foliage inter-
mingled to set off the delicate yellow
and white of the buds and blossoms
(Fig. 7). But it fittingly combines

> \

- *

with nearl}- all the varieties, espe-
cially the violets and blues.

The Emily Henderson sweet-pea is
said to be a sport of the Blanche
Ferry variety. It is pure white,
having the same form as the Blanche
Ferry, which is much less pleasing
than the Blanche Burpee variety. It
blossoms early and very f reel}', and
has been a favorite wdiite variety
until quite recently. The standard
is flat and notched, and is separated
from the wings by a wide angle.

There are several other white va-
rieties, such as Mrs. Sankey, Alba
Magnifica, and Queen of England, of
more or less merit, but it is hardly
worth while to cultivate them when
the Blanche Burpee and Emily Hen-
derson — two distinct types of form —
may be easily obtained.

The dwarf Cupid sweet-pea seems
likely to become a valuable variety
for certain purposes, but as a pro-
ducer of cut flowers it cannot yet
compare with the taller white va-
rieties.

Professor Bailey calls the Lemon
Oueen a very good variety, an opin-
ion likel}- to be shared by all who

Fig. 10 — Blue and Yellow Sweet-Peas.

grow

It.

The flowers are large,

not

.^ STUDY 0/ SWEET-PEAS.

the largest of auy, but of sufficient
size for satisfactory use. The stand-
ard is flat, and has a rather stiff ap-
pearance. The opening buds are
distinctly yellow, while the fully de-
veloped flower has a general white
color, with the standard showing a
peculiar pinkish tint suggestive of
iridescence. The plants are strong
growers, come into blossom rather
early, and continue blooming till late
in the season. Under good cultiva-
tion the flower stems generalh' grow
longer than usual, making a very
satisfactory variety for decora-
tive use. Specimens are illus-
trated in Fig. 8.

THE PINK AND WHITE
VARIETIES.

The Lady Beaconsfield
sweet-pea possesses an ex-
tremely dainty style of beauty.
The flowers are of good size,
though not the largest ; the
standards are rather flat, ex-
cept for a central wedge be-
hind, and there is a tendency
for the side margins to curve
backwards. In color, the
standards are salmon pink,
being nearly salmon color on
the back side, and much
brighter pink in front. At
first sight, the wings appear
white, but if placed beside
the pure white of the Blanche
Burpee, they are seen to be slightly
tinged with yellow. The opening
buds are beautifully flu.shed with
salmon tones.

At Cornell University the Lady
Beaconsfield was reported ' ' not a
success." The flower is described
as having the standard "dull pink
tinged with lavendar," and the wings

as ' ' lavendar and a very light yel-
low," — quite a different flower from
the Lady Beaconsfield described
above. Notwithstanding the form,
which is not of the best type, the
Lady Beaconsfield deserves a place
in any good collection of sweet-peas.
The plant is only a moderate bloomer,
but the flowers remain in good con-
dition in unfavorable weather. In
arranging the blossoms, they should
not be overcrowded, and should be
placed in a good light. Small, clear
glass rose bowls (Fig. 9) serve ad-

Fig. II — Ramona and Juanita Sweet Peas.

mirably for displaying their delicate
beauty.

THE VELLOW VARIETIES.

It is unfortunate that as yet there
are no very good yellow sweet-peas.
At present, we must be content with
a pale primrose yellow in a rather
inferior flower. There are two of

A STl'DY 01^ SWEET-PEAS.

these yellowish varieties — Primrose
and Mrs. Eckford. They are quite
similar, but the latter is the better.
The flowers of the Mrs. Eckford
variety are of medium size, with the
flat standards notched above. Prim-
rose appears to be the freer bloomer
of the two varieties. Mrs. Eckford
shows its yellow tones best when
massed as seen at the right in P^ig.

flowers, as a rule, being whiter than
the older ones. The plant is a good
grower, and bears blossoms in mod-
erate quantities.

Ramona, introduced in 1896, origi-
nated with C. C. Morse and Com-
pany of California. It is a notably-
delicate and beautiful sweet-pea, of
the largest size and the best hooded
form, as well as of good substance

Fig. 12 — The Duke and Duchess of York Sweet-Peas.

10, where the flowers are in a yellow-
green German mug.

Eliza Eckford, a variety intro-
duced by Mr. Henry Eckford, in
1895, is good in form, substance, size,
and color. The standard is slightly
hooded, with graceful curves. In
general effect the color is delicate
rose pink, much of the edges and
more or less of the petal surface be-
ing white. The rose pink is delight-
fully suffused over the white : and
there is a decided variation in the
degree of pinkness, the \ounger

and most daintily colored. Both
standard and wings are white, deli-
cately penciled, especially toward the
middle, with rose pink.

Ramona and Juanita are twin sis-
ters, introduced the same year from
the same originators. In the latter,
the rose lines are supplanted by lav-
endar. In such a mass combination
as is shown in Fig. 11, the two va-
rieties go together beautifull\- ; Juan-
ita is in the vase, Ramona on the
polished table. A more delicate effect
of floral loveliness one rarelv sees.

THE MARCH TRIUMPHAL.

The flowers of Delight are among
the smallest of the sweet-peas now
offered for sale. The plants lack
vigor, so that the blossom stems are
short. The flowers are white, tinged
with pink, especialh- vipon the stand-
ard. The variety does not seem
worth growing, except in large col-
lections.

The Duke of York sweet-pea, in-
troduced in 1895, by Mr. Eckford, is
a handsome variety, having the
standard bright pink, and the wings
pinkish-white with a suggestion of
primrose in some specimens. The
blossoms are large, with reflexed
standards. They mass prettily, and
this may well be considered one of
the best pink varieties.

The Duchess of York is a very
good sweet-pea. It is large, with a
flat standard. The color is delicate
and charming, the petals being white,
faintly flushed and veined with light
pink, sometimes with a lavendar

tinge. In Fig. 12, this variety is in
the vase, while the sweet-peas on the
table are the Duke of York — a de-
lightful color combination.

The Improved Painted Lady — the
modern type of the old-time favorite
of our grandmothers' gardens— can
scarcely be spared from an\- collec-
tion of good varieties. It is particu-
larly effective out of doors, trained to
bushes or wire trellis, in masses
alone, and thus forms a ver}- attrac-
tive hedge. Tlie blossoms are me-
dium size, with the erect standard
notched and slightly wedge-shaped
above. The wings do not spread
widel}'. The standard is pink, deeper
in the middle ; the wings are whitish,
with the veins broadly marking them
with a delicate tint between rose pink
and rose purple. The keel is whitish,
tipped with pink. This variety be-
gins flowering early, and continues
to bloom abundantly until the end of
the season.

[7"() be concluded^

THE MARCH TRIUMPHAL.

By Sajiiuel Hoyt.

Oh, the might}- march of Thought within that long and misty span,
Since first the ancient earth became the battle ground of man !
Thought in the van of conflict, through the long, momentous years.
Whence Liberty arose, amid a storm of blood and tears.

The Thought which erstwhile triumphed o'er the brutal lu.st for pelf,
The Thought which lifted men above the sordid love of self.
Which painted glorious pictures upon cathedral walls.
Which molded creeds of state craft in monumental halls.

It has lighted up the pages of many a perished tome.
It has loosed the starry secrets of the all-embracing dome,
It has harnessed steeds of lightning to the chariot of desire.
And kindled in the patriot '-s breast the spark of holy fire.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

It has smitten royal sceptres from the palsied grasp of kings,
Bade science fly o'er all the earth on transcendental wings,
P'lashed o'er the main of ignorance its mighty signal lights.
And raised the flag of Freedom on all the mountain heights.

It has made of Love its all}-, and broken truce with Hate,
Gives the shibboleth of " Charity," and enters at the gate,
Past all the bigot sentries, with their mail, and shield, and sword.
Which crumble as it utters its talismanic word.

It has tenanted the being of millions 'neath the sun.
Through all the countless ages since Time's cycles were begun,
And wrought its wondrous miracles beneath the rolling stars,
From the waste of eastern waters to the sunset's purple bars.

And still it marches onward, and gathers in its path

The fruit and flower of centuries, like a glorious aftermath.

Of all their toil and reaping, of all their joys and tears.

And brings them to the treasure-house of these redundant years.

It makes imperial conscript of the sweetest flower of youth.
And bids it to discipleship of all-demanding truth ;
Unlocks the secret chambers, where lies the sacred ark.
And with its radiant tapers lights the toilers in the dark.

It bears upon its forehead the brightness of the morn ;
It has lost no vernal freshness since Time itself was born ;
It lived before the heavens were spread, and it shall never die.
For God hath breathed upon it His immortality.

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

By Adjutant Luther Tracy Toxuusend.

CHAPTER XII.

EVACUATION OF BUTTE A LA ROSE AND RETURN TO PORT HUDSON,

T was two o'clock on the The letters written home at that
afternoon of May 28 that time by our men attest their well-
the gunboat /r.s/;r//rt and nigh inexpressible joy "when," as
the transports Come and one of our correspondents in a com-
Kcppe started up the munication to a newspaper says, "we
Atchafalaya on their mission of res- were permitted to see, before our de-
cue. We reached Butte a la Rose at lighted eyes, lying across the bayou,
ten o'clock on the morning of May 29. the gunboat and transports that had

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

come to save us." No wonder the
men were filled with \oy , for the fate
of prisoners of war in the hands of
Texas rangers, or certain death from
diseases then preying upon them, had
seemed to be their inevitable doom.

The dismantling of Fort Burton be-
gan immediately. But the work was
prosecuted with quietness during the
day in order to attract as little as pos-
sible the attention of the Confederate
scouts who had surrounded us and
who, within a few days past, had
greatly increased in numbers, bold-
ness, and activity. Indeed, we feared
an attack at daybreak the next morn-
ing from those of Taylor's forces who
had been left to prevent our escape
into the Teche countr}^ and who ap-
peared to be making a move to pre-
vent, if possible, our departure on the
transports that they must have known
had come to take us away.

As darkness fell upon us, the work
of destroying the fortifications was
pushed with as much vigor as the
enfeebled strength of our men would
permit. In the meantime, the gun-
boat Estirlla had taken a position
from which she could send her grape
and shells down the roadwa}^ had the
enemy appeared in force. Doubtless
it was those precautionarj' measures
of the Estrella, or at least her pres-
ence there, that prevented a raid
upon us that verj^ night ; for those
Confederates who were surrounding
us had learned from experience what
speedy havoc a broadside of grape
and canister could make when sent
among them.

The scenes of that night, the load-
ing of the transports, the painful ef-
forts of our sick and enfeebled men
to help on in the work, the carrying
of the sick and dying men on board,

already have been so well described
by Captain Hyatt that they need not
in this connection be repeated.

At midnight we set fire to all the
barracks, and made preparations to
blow up the magazine, which still
held a large quantity of powder. At
that hour, too, we came near meet-
ing with a .serious accident. As
alread}^ mentioned, the transport
Gavgc A . S/ieldtvi had struck a snag
and had been run in close to the fort,
where she lay parth' submerged.

During the day, a small transport,
called the Unitvi, the last of her class
to descend the bayou, reached the
fort, coming, if we mistake not, from
Simmesport, having on board a quan-
tity of cotton. She w^as hailed by the
Estrella, and in spite of the protests
and oaths of her captain, was pressed
into service. Some of her cargo was
thrown overboard to make room for
our sick men, against which her cap-
tain offered additional protests. But
the guns of the Estrella at that time
commanded those waters, and the
captain of the Union had to obey.

Accordingly, his boat had been
made fast to the partly - submerged
Sheldon, and was being loaded across
her bows, which was the onlj- part
of her deck not under water. With-
out a moment's warning, the Sliel-
don, owing probably to the .strain that
came from the ropes with which .she
was fastened to the Union, partly
turned over and slid into deep water.
As she sank, the Union began to
sink with her; the lines were so taut
the}' could not be cast off, and before
the}- could even be cut, the decks of
the I 'nion were well under water.
She was fearfully near being capsized
with many of our sick men on board.
But fortunately, the ropes parted just

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

in time to save this threatened catas-
trophe, in which the drowning of sev-
eral of our ahnost utterh' helpless
men would have been inevitable.

At length all the men and their
belongings were on board, together
with the armament of the fort, and
the Estirlla with the three transports
swung clear of the fort and slowly
dropped down the bayou.

Two of our men, one of whom was
our lieutenant-colonel, remained for
the purpose of lighting the fuse com-
municating with the powder in the
magazine. A few moments later they
were seen in the early gray of the
morning rowing rapidly towards the
transports, and were taken on board.
They had fired the fuse, and we
watched for the explosion, but noth-
ing of the kind followed. In the
light of the burning barracks, how-
ever, we plainly saw the Confederates
moving up the causeway and along
the embankments of the fort. They
evidently had been watching all our
movements, and probably extin-
guished the fuse within a few sec-
onds after it had been lighted.

Indeed, we can do no more than
say that they probably did this, for
during our regimental reunion at The
Weirs, August, 1896, one of our com-
rades, Corporal Rand, stated that he
had met a Confederate soldier who
was with those who had followed us
up that night, intending if possible
our capture, and was among those
who saved the magazine from explo-
sion, by extinguishing the fuse.

Our movements down the bayou
were at first very slow, at least till
full daylight, and then all possible
speed was made. It became evident,
especially while passing through
both Mud and Chicot Lakes, and

even through the upper part of
Grand Lake, that our departure from
Butte a la Rose had been none too
soon. There were miles through
which the rather heavil}^ laden boats
ploughed mud, and at some points
they dragged so heavil}^ that for a
time fears were entertained that we
could not proceed. Five, perhaps
three, days later, the passage through
those waters would have been impos-
sible.

When the sun rose, we were well
beyond the sight of a spot we then
presumed Federal troops never again
would be sent to garrison ; a spot
that had more than a local, it had at
least a state, reputation.

The reader doubtless will recall
what the Confederate commander
said to us on taking possession of
that place. We now introduce
another bit of testimony.

Soon after its capture, an an-
nouncement appeared in a St. Mar-
tinsville paper, which was quoted in
a New Orleans daily, reading thus :

' ' The Yanks have taken from us
that Hole of Hell, Butte a la Rose,
and we wish them great joy in its
possession."

After entering Grand Lake, navi-
gation was easy. We began to feel
that we were now on the wa)^ to some
destination, though we knew not
where, nor had we much concern.
Indeed, does any reader suppose, had
the choice been left us on the one
hand either to go into the trenches
before Port Hudson, to storm that
stronghold of the enem)'^, or to make
any other bloody advance, and on the
other hand to return to Butte a la
Rose, that it would have taken us
one moment to decide ?

Let us draw a picture or two ; the

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

first one involves patrol duty. The
relief is ready and begins its march a
half mile or more towards the enemy.
The territory is deserted and lonely.
The outer vedette station is reached.
Two or three vedettes who had been
on guard the first half of the night
are relieved ; the relief patrol turns
back, leaving two, possibly three,
soldiers out there alone, but within
hearing of the enemy's lines.

They pull their rubber blankets
about them to keep the pelting rain
off ; the}' stand ready with thumb on
the hammer to cock their muskets ;
they peer into the darkness from which
may come a blaze of fire the next min-
ute, sending a bullet crashing through
the brain . Those are perilous and lone-
some hours. But does any one sup-
pose that they inspire half the dread
that came to us while helplessly we
did patrol dutj^ in that "black hole"
with disease stalking among us and
picking off our men day and night ?

On the " mud march " and at other
times as skirmishers, we had deploj'-
ed under great difficulties. When
rendering such service, each man in
the line expects in a few brief mo-
ments to be the mark for perhaps a
score of the enemy's rifles. Advanc-
ing in line, they hear the bullets
whistling thick about them, and are
left to wonder that they hear so manj^
"without feeling a slight stinging sen-
sation somewhere in the body, fol-
lowed with the consciousness that
suddenly it is growing dark about
them ; then it is that a soldier's cour-
age is thoroughly tested. But we
have no hesitation in saying that if
the men of our regiment, any time
after the first ten days of their life at
Butte a la Rose, could have purchased
their release from that place by being

ordered to make an advance in skir-
mish line every day in the week,
there would not have been a mo-
ment's hesitation.

It is a trying experience, too, when
soldiers are called upon to hold an
important position with heavy odds
against them, until reinforcements
can be brought to their support. But
though the carnage is sometimes
fearful, j-et because it cannot last
very long, it is less dreadful than a
defense continued through weeks of
delay and suffering while the angels
or fiends of disease and death are
hovering over a smitten and suffering
garrison.

Butte a la Rose ! Bank of Roses !
with your swamp devils, monster alli-
gators, venomous snakes, disease,
and death, it was you who tested the
fortitude of the sturd}' men from the
granite hills of New Hampshire, as
the fortitude of men seldom has been
tested. But now horrible place —
farewell ! — -forever. Such were our
thoughts as Butte a la Rose was hid-
den from view by a belt of trees on
the morning we left it. These expe-
riences now come to us in memory,
not as a reality, but as a dream too
strange and weird to be believed.

It was Sunday forenoon, May 31,
just forty-two days after our leaving
for that henceforth unmentionable
place, that we again landed on the
wharf at Brashear City, and our men
were as thankful as mortals could be
that once more they were in the midst
of at least some evidences of civiliza-
tion.

Among the first rations issued to
the regiment after reaching Brashear
City was a large quantity of pickled
cabbage. The craving of the men
for something acid was so intense

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

that they hardh' could restrain them-
selves or l^e restrained. Leaving all
other footl untouched, they seized
that cabi)age by the handfuls and
gorged themselves ; and what seems
singular, they did it apparently with-
out injury.

As soon as a train could be made
up, we were ordered on board. Al-
giers was our destination. That
place was reached at four o'clock in
the afternoon. Owing to recent or-
ders to forward all available troops as
rapidly as possible to Port Hudson,
we were allowed no time for rest,
though many of our men were too
weak to stand without support, and
some of them could not stand at all,

but were carried on board the Sally
Robijison, which had been ordered up
the river to Springfield Landing, a
short distance south of Port Hudson.
The adjutant was detained in New
Orleans for a few hours to report to
General Emor}' the condition of the
regiment, get the regimental mail,
and to notify any convalescents be-
longing to our command to report at
Port Hudson. A few hours after the
sailing of the Sally Robinson, the ad-
jutant and a few convalescents took
passage on the steamship Fulton, and
near sunfall, June i, reached the
landing where the larger part of the
survivors of the Sixteenth were
bivouacked, awaiting orders.

CHAPTER XI II.

THE INVEST.^IEXT

T had been clearly dem-
onstrated in the naval
engagement, March 14,
that Port Hudson could
not Ije captured on the
riverside. There remained, there-
fore, three possible ways of gaining
possession of it, which were these:
First, there could l)e instituted a siege
that would starve the garrison into a
surrender. Second, assaults upon
the works could be made that might
result in forcing a surrender. Third,
General Banks, an}- time after May 23,
could have withdrawn his forces a
short distance, and the enemy would
have made a (|uick and \-oluntary
escape.

This last statement is made thus
positively, for as early as that date
General Gardner had received orders
from General Johnson to abandon
Port Hudson, if possible.

OF PORT HUDSOX.

Among the Confederate records, we
found in the Congressional library
the following letter, written, under
date of May 29, 1863, by Colonel
Logan to General Johnson :

"I have had no communication
from General Gardner since the
twenty-fourth. On that night he in-
tended, if possible, to come out, and
ordered me to place my forces so as
to assist him, wdiich I did. I think
he found it impossible to cut his wa}^
out. I am at this place [Clinton.
La.] with a command of cavalry and
mounted infantry', twelve hundred
men, doing all I can to aid Gardner,
by dashing upon the enemy's lines,
destroying his wagon trains, etc. I
am determined to do all I can with
the means at vi\y command."

It thus appears that Gardner was
watching for an opportunity to
escape. And to have allowed him to

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

escape, as will appear further on,
would have been, on the whole, a
wiser course to pursue than to fight
him, though under ordinary circum-
stances and from a strict!}' militar}'
point of view, such a course at that
time doubtless would have been open
to criticism.

But the method adopted by our
forces was that of making assaults
upon the enemy, which proved, as a
matter of fact, the most unwise and
unfortunate course conceivable.

Our regiment had reached Spring-
field Landing, as we have said,
June I, but the investment of Port
Hudson had been completed six da3's
earlier, May 25.

The disposition of our forces at
that time was as follows: General
Weilzel occupied the extreme right ;
then came Generals Grover, Paine,
Auger, and Dwight, in the order
named, Dwight occupying the ex-
treme left.

Farragut was .stationed above Port
Hudson with the gunboats Hartford,
Albatross, and a few smaller ones,
and just below were the gunboats
JMouongahcIa, Essex, (leiincsee, and
Richmond, together with several mor-
tar boats, under the command of
C. H. Caldwell.

Banks wrote to Grant, under date
of Ma}' 8, that as early as May 25 he
should have 15,000 effective men be-
fore Port Hudson ; presumably, that
was about the number engaged in
the siege at the date of which we are
writing.

Gen. Frank Gardner, then com-
manding Port Hudson, had asked
General John.son for reinforcements,
but they could not be furnished, and
hence Johnson's order for Gardner
to escape with his forces if possible.

But this Gardner felt he could not
do, nor could he communicate any
longer with Johnson or the outside
world. And further, he had no
means, by land or water, for obtain-
ing commissary or ordnance supplies.

It was commonly reported, too, at
the time that his troops had been
reduced to "mule meat" and "fricas-
seed rats," which probably was a
much exaggerated statement of the
facts in the case; still that Gardner
was in great straits never has been
questioned. He was surrounded.
Nearly three hundred of our heavy
siege guns had been brought into
position to bombard his fortifications.
His men were deserting daily, and
some of them came within our lines
in a half- starved condition. All,
therefore, that Banks need to have
done was to be patient, wait a little,
and the garrison would have been
starved into an unconditional sur-
render.

That such should have been the
method of conquest is apparent
enough from our present point of
view, and seemingly it ought to have
been equally apparent at the time of
which we are speaking.

In a letter of May 28, to General
Grant, General Banks writes thus :

" The garrison of the enemy is five
or six thousand men. [This appears
to be an underestimate.] The works
are what ordinarily would be styled
impregnable. They are surrounded
by ravines, woods, valleys, and
bayous of the most intricate and
labyrinthic character, that make the
works themselves almost inaccessible.
It requires time e\-en to understand
the geography of the position. . . .
If it be possible, I beg you to send
me at least one brigade of four thou-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

sand or five thousand men. This
will be of vital importance to us.
We may have to abandon these
operations without it."

In his "Personal Memoirs," Gen-
eral Grant gives the following reasons
for not complying with Banks's re-
quest :

"In May, I received a letter from
General Banks, asking me to rein-
force him with ten thousand men.
[There is a discrepancy between
Grant's and Banks's account of the
number of men asked for.] Of
course, I did not comply with his
request, nor did I think he needed
them. He was in no danger of an
attack by the garrison in his front,
and there was no army organizing in
his rear to raise the siege."

Now in view of these facts, and
especially in view of the confessions
of General Banks, we cannot help
asking this quCvStion :

Why should an assault have been
made on "impregnable works" and
on "almost inaccessible" fortifica-
tions, especially when there was "no
danger of an attack by the garrison
in front," and when "there was no
army organized in the rear to raise
the siege ' ' ?

General Grant, with certainly no
strong reasons, had adopted a more
sensible and an equally military
course at Vicksburg. That is, after
making one assault. May 22, he says,
in his " Personal Memoirs": " I am
now determined upon a regular siege
to outcamp the enem3% as it were,
and to incur no more losses."

This plan was carried out, and by
regular "siege work" General Grant
brought about the surrender of Vicks-
burg, July 4, the siege lasting forty-
six days, which was one day fewer

than the time of Banks's investment
of Port Hudson.

And if any good reasons can be
given why this method employed by
Grant should not have been adopted
by Banks, we cannot imagine what
they can be.

The resolution of Grant not to im-
peril the lives of his men by storming
the strong fortifications of the enemy
was not only sensible and humane,
but under the circumstances was emi-
nently soldierl3^ On the other hand,
the method adopted by our troops we
cannot characterize by any other sen-
tence than one we use with great re-
luctance, namely, that the method of
Banks, under the circumstances, was
unsoldierly and seemingly inhuman.

In this history it is not for us to go
fully into the details of the first at-
tack upon Port Hudson, for our regi-
ment had not yet reached there. We
merely say that an assault was made
on the enemy's "impregnable" and
"almost inaccessible" fortifications,
Sunday morning. May 27. In evi-
dence of the accuracy of Banks's de-
scription of the strength of those for-
tifications, we recount the slaughter
that befell the Eighth regiment of
our own state, a regiment whose bril-
liant record, we shall be pardoned for
saying, is surpassed by that of no
other regiment from any of the states
during the war ; a regiment of whose
fortitude and courage our state al-
ways should be proud.

It will be remembered by those
who are familiar with the history of
the Nineteenth Army Corps, that
they were the Eighth New Hamp-
shire and Fourth Winconsin which
led off in almost every perilous en-
gagement and expedition everywhere
in the department of the gulf.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

This is the sanguinary record of
the Eighth during that first Sunday's
fighting :

Lieutenant-Colonel Lull fell, mor-
tally wounded by a Minie ball, early
in the charge while cheering on his
men. Captain Flanders and Lieu-
tenants Jones and Langley were also
wounded. All of the color guard,
excepting a single corporal, w^ere
killed or wounded ; but the gallant
survivor kept fast hold of his flag,
and planted it triumphantly on the
outer slope of the works, where it
remained till night, riddled with
grape, canister, and bullets. The
number that went into the fight was
298, and of those 124 were killed or
wounded.

Such was the fatality of that one
regiment in that disastrous assault,
and the losses of some of the others
were scarcely less. Our army lost in
all that day ninctcoi hundred and
ninety- five iiie)i, killed, wounded, and
missing, while the enemy's loss was
hardly w^orthy of mention.

These melancholy results of an
attempt to carry "impregnable" forti-
fications should have been, as one
would think, a salutary lesson to our
commanders.

Such was the state of affairs when
the Sixteenth arrived at Springfield
Landing, June i. On the evening
of our arrival, Colonel Pike, then in
command, ordered the men into line,
and it was found that, sick and well,
rank and file, we numbered 203,
though we ought to say that there
was scarcel}' a well man among
them. Some of the number were so
emaciated that friends of a lifetime
scarcely would have recognized them.
The following statements will furnish
some idea of the shattered condition

of the regiment : The original color-
guard were all gone, and the three
that stood in line that afternoon were
volunteers.

It became necessary to reorganize
the regiment before attempting an
advance. The members of Compa-
nies G and K were placed under the
command of Captain Baffuni, and
Lieutenant Webber ; the members of
Companies A, B, and G were placed
under command of Captain Hersey
and Lieutenants Cooper and Colburn ;
the members of Companies F and H
were assigned to the command of
Lieutenants Adams and Ward ; and
the members of Companies C, D, and
E were assigned to Captain Clarke
and Lieutenant Porter. It appeared
on inspection that Company K was
the fullest of all the companies, and
yet its condition was nothing to boast
of. It had no commissioned officer
present, and there were but two ser-
geants, three corporals, and twenty
privates who could report for duty.

Our men after the reorganization,
were found by the inspecting officers
and surgeons to be more fit for cots
in the hospital than for service on the
field ; yet, in the words of one of our
officers, "Those sick men almost re-
fused to be taken to the hospitals, so
eager were they for any death except
death by disease, which threatened
them."

At Springfield Landing, we bivou-
acked for the night, with blankets
for beds and trees for tents. Though
burning with fevers and shaking with
ao^ue, we had our orders to start for
the front to engage wnth the other
troops in an assault on Port Hudson
early the next morning.

Accordingly, at two o'clock in the
morning, with a cup of coffee and

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

hardtack for rations, the regiment
was formed in line, and soon after be-
gan its languid and unsteady march
through solitar}" woods, whose silence
was broken by the occasional hoot-
ing of owls and booming of the " big
guns" of our batteries, that were
trying to silence those of the enem5^

In a few hours we expected to be
in the light and in front of the works
that already had proved too strong
for our troops to carry. At nine
o'clock we were within the outer
rifle-pits of the enemy, that pre-
viously had been stormed and car-
ried 1)}' General Auger.

While still moving cautiously
towards the enemy's lines, we were
halted, and received orders from
General Banks to report immediately
at headquarters. This change in
the disposition of our regiment was
made, we presumed at the time, be-
cause of some threatened danger at
that point. This, however, proved
not to be the case, and the reason of
the order soon after was fully ex-
plained in this way :

General Emory, who was then on
dut}' in New Orleans, after receiving
our regimental report and after lis-
tening to Captain Hyatt's account of
our condition, forwarded despatches
to General Banks that the Sixteenth
New Hampshire must not be sent
to the front ; that it had suffered
enough already, and "at best could
muster for service only a few skele-
tons. ' '

We shall be pardoned for express-
ing at this point our admiration for
the soldierly and merciful character
of Gen. W. H. Emory, and Qur
sense of gratitude for his thoughtful
consideration on two occasions for
our regiment.

We were in his division most of
the time during our campaign. He
was a West Point graduate (1831)
and was first captain, then major,
in the war with Mexico. He took
part as brigadier - general in the
Peninsular campaign in 1862. He
was absolutely fearless, stanchly
loyal, a strict disciplinarian in im-
portant matters but not a stickler
for trivial things. More than once
he received the adjutant in person,
when regimental representatives and
requests should have gone to him
only through the regular channels.

Though having great interests to
look after in New Orleans, sufficient,
one would think, to have absorbed
his entire thought, still he had his
eyes upon our imperiled regiment at
Butte a la Rose, and sent Captain
Hyatt to our rescue. And no .sooner
had he received a detailed statement
of our condition, than he sent his re-
port and request to General Banks
not to put us in the trenches.

This tribute to that noble officer is
tardy, but is deserved, and most
gratefully ren'dered.

General Banks, acting upon this
report from General Emory, and
probably recalling what had been our
experiences, as seen to some extent
by himself when passing down the
bayou at Butte a la Rose, counter-
termanded the order that was send-
ing us to the front, and ordered us to
report at headquarters, where we
were assigned the duty of issuing
and guarding ammunition.

The representations of Captain
Hyatt, respecting our regiment, and
the report of General Emory to Gen-
eral Banks, we may add, receive
striking confirmation in the fact that,
on the morning of June 7, one

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

week after our arrival at Springfield
Landing, we could muster from the
entire regiment only seventy-five men
fit for duty. There were daily deaths,
and in a single day while there at
Port Hudson, we carried to the grave
six of the few comrades who were
left. Some of the men, attempting
to walk to the surgeon's tent, fell
dead in their tracks, and others died
in their tents, unattended, and with-
out uttering a moan. We quote, in
confirmation of what Ave are saying,
a few words from one of our most effi-
cient officers. Captain John L. Rice :

"At last we were permitted to
come out of those terrible swamps
upon a fair field, and with an enthu-
siasm which I never have seen
equaled, our boys took their place in
line, and fairly courted a soldier's
death.

"But it was too late. The fatal
poison had done its work. Daily
and hourly our boys sickened and
died. Every morning they were
found dead in their blankets. At
roll-call, while answering feebly to
their names, they would fall down
and die in their tracks. Time and
again, I saw them all accoutred for
battle, with eyes to the front, and
musket in hand, stagger, sink to the
ground where they had been stand-
ing, as dead as if shot in their tracks.
Once, when a funeral squad had fired
the last volley over the grave of a
comrade, one of the squad moved for-
ward, sank upon the fresh mound of
his dead comrade and breathed his
last. Another grave was hastily dug,
another volley fired, and that com-
rade was covered from sight."

Sunday, June 13, brings us to the
second unfortunate and unjustifiable
assault on Port Hudson. It was at

best a reckless Sunday adventure,
which man}- of our New England
men engaged in without heart or en-
thusiasm.

The general plan of that assault,
as is supposed, was formulated by
General Banks, though General
Grover appears to have arranged the
particulars. Grover and Weitzel
were to make the main attack upon
the extreme northeasterly angle of
the enemy's works, and at the same
time Generals Auger and Dwight
were to make an attack on the left.
General Weitzel's troops were to
make a vigorous assault, and, if pos-
sible, gain a position inside the ene-
my's works, and, when this was done,
General Paine's division was to move
to their immediate support at an
angle of the fortifications not far dis-
tant.

At early dawn, Weitzel's column,
through a covered way that had been
excavated to within 100 yards of the
outer works of the Confederates, be-
gan its march. But, as it emerged
from its concealment, it was met by
an unexpected and murderous fire
from the enemy. It appears that
General Gardner, the Confederate
commander, had been fully informed
of Banks's intentions, and accord-
ingly his troops were massed at that
very point to meet our attack.

Weitzel's troops were thus re-
pulsed, and appear to have been
quite demoralized before Paine's di-
vision had fairly got under way.
This failure of cooperation of Weitzel
and Paine was a fatal mistake. For
when Paine had reached the point
where he was to make his assault,
Gardner was there before him. He
had reinforced the troops already
there with those that had just re-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

pulsed Weitzel, and thus was able to
confront Paine with a force that stag-
gered and then drove him back. The
facts are, that Gardner had com-
pletely outgeneraled our troops.

Dwight's attack on the left, which
should have been made simultane-
ously with that of Weitzel on the
right, came too late, owing, it is said,
to the misdirection of the guides, and
hence proved an utter failure.

The late afternoon and night hours
of the day of that bloody defeat over-
took a body of Union troops that
"were discouraged, worn out, almost
dazed with grief and disappointment
and, perhaps, hardened somewhat
with the scenes through which they
had passed." And no one familiar
with the events of that and the pre-
vious Sunday assaults, can blame the
disheartened men.

The historian of the Sixteenth,
having received permission to be
absent from headquarters for the
day, spent the afternoon and even-
ing among our defeated troops, and
a part of the time on the ground
that had witnessed the repulse of
Weitzel's division, and, therefore,
from personal observation, knows of
what he is speaking.

We must again compliment the
regiment already referred to, the
Eighth New Hampshire, and we
employ its losses as before by way
of illustration. The general order
for that day was the following :

Headquarters Third Division.
Before Port Hudson, June 12, 1863.
General Orders No. 64.

column ok attack.

Eighth New Hampshire, Fourth Wisconsin,
as skirmishers ; intervals, two paces.

Five companies, Fourth Massachusetts and
One Hundred Tenth New York, etc.

The Eighth New Hampshire en-
tered that fight with 217 men, and
lost 122 out of the number.

We cannot help feeling intense in-
dignation that our New Hampshire
men, as true and noble soldiers as
ever walked the earth, w^ere sacri-
ficed so needlessly and uselessl}^ be-
fore Port Hudson. Brave men ! and
we include our heroic comrades of
the Fifteenth New Hampshire as
w^ell, who participated in those as-
saults; 3'ou did as commanded, and
deserve all praise, but your slaugh-
ter, wath nothing of advantage to
show for it, constitutes one of the de-
plorable pages of the military history
of the United States of America.

And we shall be pardoned in pass-
ing, for speaking a word in com-
mendation of the colored troops who
fought with us, and to wdiom the na-
tion owes a debt of gratitude not yet
paid. Colonel Stafford, of the First
regiment of the Black Brigade, while
encamped, the historian is proud to
sa5', near our own regitnent at Baton
Rouge, handed the regimental colors
to the sergeant, who was as black as
a negro could be, closing his speech
with these words : ' ' Color - bearer,
guard, defend, protect, die for, but
do not surrender these colors." To
which the sergeant replied: "Colo-
nel, I'll return this flag to you, in
honor, or I '11 report to God the rea-
son why."

The negro sergeant, in that des-
perate charge on Port Hudson, fell
mortally wounded. But his ebony
face was to the enemy ; and those
colors in his clenched hands were
pressed upon his breast, and the God
above knew the reason why he did
not return the flag to his colonel.

The total loss to our forces in that

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

second Sunda3''s attack was cii^htccn
hundred a)id five men, and, as in the
former assault, scarcely any damage
was done to the enemy.

Those two disastrous defeats, and
the general condition of our troops,
as might be expected, greatly em-
boldened the Confederate forces that
were then hovering about us. The
wonder is that Gardner and Green,
after those defeats, and in our crip-
])led condition, did not attempt to en-
trap, if not to crush our army be-
tween their forces, which we think
easily could have been done.

This, manifestly, was Logan's con-
viction. For, under date of June 29,
he wrote thus to General Johnson :

"As I have alread}^ stated, a small
reinforcement sent here will not only
raise the siege of Port Hudson, but
drive the enemy from the country,
and I believe from Baton Rouge."

The issuing and guarding of am-
munition at headquarters constituted
the service of our regiment outside of
Port Hudson from June 2 to July 10,
and inside of Port Hudson from that
date to July 20.

Day after day and night after night,
during the time preceding the fall of
Port Hudson, rifles were cracking and
cannon booming, and occasional shots
came into our camp, though no one
of our men was struck. We felt the
importance of the service assigned,
and were so faithful in the discharge
of our duties and had the confidence
of General Banks to such an extent

that there appeared to be no inclina-
tion on his part to transfer us to other
service, though at our best, while be-
fore Port Hudson, we could muster
scarcel}^ a hundred men for dut3^

During a period of perhaps two
weeks before the surrender of Port
Hudson we were ordered out morn-
ing after morning at 3:30 o'clock
and stood under arms until daylight,
to repel a possible and what at times
seemed a probable attack on head-
quarters by forces under Logan that
were closing in about us and con-
stantly testing the strength of our
position. Confederate cavalrymen
and mounted infantry, not in very
large numbers, however, were annoy-
ing our lines all the way from Spring-
field Landing to Port Hudson. In-
deed, there were detachments of the
enemy at different points down the
river as far as Donaldson ville, where
there was a force, under General
Green, of from fifteen hundred to
two thousand men.

And we repeat, that if the condi-
tion of our troops, after the two at-
tacks on Port Hudson, had been fully
known, and had Green crossed the
river and concentrated his forces in
our rear, had "Dick" Taylor made
a little more show in his demonstra-
tion against New Orleans, when he
moved east for Brashear City, and
had Gardner assumed the offensive,
aided by Logan, seemingly the capit-
ulation of Banks's army inevitably
must have followed.

Note. — The author desires suggestions or corrections from any comrade o{ the Sixteenth or an)' other regiment.

\ To be continued.^

GRANITE GRAPHICS.

By George Bancroft Griffitli.

I
MY NATIVE STREAM.

Forth springs the clear young river from the wild,
Its voice the laughter of a happy child ;
Too sober grown when parts the shining track
Of Pemigewasset and the Merrimack !

II.

NOOK NEAR MOUNT LAFAYETTE.

So clear, it seems but air just tinged with green.
This lovely pool that rims the mountain's bowl ;
So still that Echo, haunting this fair scene.
May catch the music of some passing soul !

III.

VACATION — THE WHITE HILLS.

'Neath roof of birch bark, by a nameless lake,
Freebooter of the virgin wild am I ;
And who such plea.sing spell w^ould care to break
Since Nature gives the joy wealth cannot buy !

IV.

KEARSARGE.

Night's brightest jewel ever shines

O'er Indian's mount of plumy pines.

Mixed with the sturdy oaks we sought

With patriot hands with ardor wrought

Into that noble ship of state

Which made New Hampshire's heroes great!

Off foreign shore she met the foe.

And dealt the grand decisive blow

That ev'ry drooping spirit raised —

Caps off again ; and God be praised !

Kearsarge's brow let Eve adorn,

Touch softly, fingers of the Morn !

AT APPLE-TREE POINT, LAKE CHAMPLAIX

/))' Milo Benedict.

^i^^jlHERE are manj^ people
i accustomed to the dirt
and dimness of cities
who have but a faint
idea of unbedimmed
sunlight. Strictl}' speaking, they
have no idea of it at all, for the light
they see is alwa3\s tempered by some
atom of darkness, some shadow of
poverty, or even the dingy thoughts
that circulate in the world. To see
the sun as it may be seen at Apple-
tree Point on a bright daj^ is some-
thing worthy of remembrance. A
friend from the West, visiting the
Point with me, declared that in the
prairie countrj^ the sun was never so
dazzling. I did not take these words,
however, quite at their full value, for
I have often noticed it is rather a
common habit with people to ex-
claim, "Oh, I never saw anything
in all my life to equal it ! " at a spec-
tacle altogether common enough,
though they may never have seen
it with their sense of sight fully
awake.

At Apple-tree Point the"e is cer-
tainly no getting away from a con-
sciousness of the fact that oneself is
very small and the blazing sun is
very great. You stand out on a
rock}^ cliff about fifty feet high, and
everywhere you turn your eyes you
see great stretches of land and water.
But it is not common land and water
such as is spoken of in the geogra-
phy, it is more than substance that

may be touched with the foot or
pressed wath the hand, it has a beau-
ty and a meaning to be interpreted.
There is something in it all that
makes you look and wonder. It is
as if something important was being
said.

Leigh Hunt once undertook to
paint a picture in words. He sat
down before a rural scene, and in-
stead of exercising his hand at draw-
ing the objects before him, he merely
catalogued them on a piece of paper.
But the names of the objects were
placed on the paper exactly where
the objects themselves would have
appeared in a drawing or photo-
graph. The picture appeared by an
effort of the imagination. It is an
easy way to make pictures, though
they can be fully appreciated onlj^ by
their makers.

No such ingenious and convenient
process of picture making as this
could be used at Apple-tree Point
with success, for the reason that the
effects that so delight and astonish
the eye are chiefly effects of light,
color, and atmosphere. The}^ are
effects to be absorbed, not to be
drawn. You may carry them away,
but you cannot give them away.
And it is that feeling of helpless
possession that brings j'ou a season
of real unhappiness, when you pit}^
the rest of the world which knows
nothing of this place, and you men-
tally suffer the sacrifices you would

.^ T APPLE- 7 REE POINT, LAKE CHAMPLALV.

make for the sake of having all your
friends and some of your enemies
come and enjoy it as j'ou do. Per-
haps, if you are accustomed to write,
you take out your pencil and some
paper and begin to describe the scene
to some one you are particularly fond
of writing to. But if you have any
sense of the insufficiency of language
in general, you quickly convert your
descriptive sheet into a sail-boat and
thrust your pencil into your pocket.
Nothing serves you in such a mo-
ment ; indeed, you have hardly dared
to open 3'our eyes to their fullest ex-
tent, there seems such an intensity in
Nature. But I fancy my reader will
say it is not necessary to go to I^ake
Champlain or any such favored spot
to be greatly impressed with the sun
or with space. No ; surely not. But
if my reader wishes to get something
more than sun and space — would like
to have several ranges of mountains,
a great lake, and a city thrown in,
and much else besides, — he will have
to travel the world over, I am sure,
to find such features of earth more
happily and effectively arranged than
they are at Apple-tree Point.

I have said the atmosphere is the
chiefest of delights to be found at
this place, and I would urge the
prospective visitor to pay his visit in
the very pleasantest weather, just to
see how fine a fine day can be.
Think of the magic tints of a mid-
summer evening spreading over the
placid water, and the mountains
changing from blue to green and
then perhaps to pink or rose-color,
and finally to purple. How fortu-
nate we are indeed to live in a cpiar-
ter of the globe where the day has a
real morning and evening in it ! A
traveler in India, giving an account

of the climate at Bombay, describes
the day as one hot, brazen afternoon,
without variation, from the rising of
the sun till it sets. What would the
natives say of a New England sum-
mer morning, with its fragrance and
freshness, its invigorating and pel-
lucid beauty, its cool blues and lu-
minous grays, and sap-green lights
over the grass and trees ? There can
be no youth where there is no morn-
ing, — and little joy; for what is
youth that is not bright and elastic,
what is joy that is not fresh like
dew ?

Another impression the Point con-
veys, that is noteworthy, is that of
its singular remoteness. It is onl}^ a
short distance from the city of Bur-
lington, say four miles, or at the
farthest five ; but when you have
emerged from the few last trees and
set foot on the great rock}^ extremity,
there is nothing but the limitless ex-
panse and the impersonal wind. It
is, in truth, but a step back to the
busy thoroughfares of mpn, and yet
you have a feeling of isolation which
I have no' doubt would compare
favorably with that which the Arctic
explorer feels while he is hemmed in
by walls of ice under the midnight
sun. Faintly you hear a whistle or a
bell in the distance, but it is only a
reminder of the existence of a civil-
ized community. You have con-
sciously crossed a gulf separating
you from all mundane interests and
affairs, you are of the many no
longer, you are individual and seem
to meet yourself on altogether new
terms. It is great refreshment. It
throws one open to an opportunity of
studying ideal conditions. Only a
few, however, seem willing or in-
clined nowadays to study in this

AT APPLE-TREE POINT, LAKE CHAM PLAIN.

wise, and so I may regretfully say
that one of the greatest sources of
attraction and charm at Apple-tree
Point may be missed completely by
the average visitor.

I did not see any English sparrows
at the Point, but blackbirds were as
numerous as the sparrows around
King's Chapel in Boston. It was a
liveh^ sight. The blackbirds have
far better manners than the sparrows.
They are more polished and con-
servative. There is even music in
their flight. They arrive gracefully
and do not leave grudgingl5% as if
they would like to take the whole
tree with them, as the sparrows ap-
pear to do. They talk, too, in a
rather dr}^ chatty voice, as if they
would invite a remark, while the
sparrows scuffle for the floor and
seem always to be abusing their
neighbors. It is easy to find fault
with the sparrows until winter comes,
then there is an unbending of our
malice, for they make the cold morn-
ings much cheerier.

There are many of our musical
native sparrows to be found on the
Point. But the most interesting
birds I saw were the mud-hens that
flew northward towards Mallet's
Bay, and the sandpipers running
and whistling along the beach. A
gull arrived after we had started
homeward. I saw his white form
hovering over the rocks as I looked
back. The gulls make their homes
on the islands in the lake. Several
broods have been found on one of a
chain of islands a few miles south,
called the Four Brothers. I have
seen half a dozen of these beautiful
birds flying over the lake at the same
time. There is something in their
curve of wing and enduring flight

that always reminds one of the ocean
wave and the coast. Happily, on the
lake these birds find surroundings
that would naturall}^ appeal to tjife'
marine element in their nature.
There is no salt, it is true, in the
water, but it surely looks as salt as
any, being of a greenish, ocean tint,
and the shore in many places is rocky
and abrupt like parts of the Maine
coast, and when the wind blows
fiercely, as it frequently does, there
is a madness in the lake that is al-
most oceanic. Not infrequently a
big schooner is seen, or a large
yacht ; then there are tall light-
houses and broad places where the
distant shores are lost to sight alto-
gether. It is, in fact, large enough
to give every effect Nature can pro-
duce with these elements — land,
water, and sky, — only the swells can-
not equal in size those of the bound-
less sea.

We had not driven far from the
edge of the grove where we had tied
our horse, when suddenl}^ the grating
of a boat on the sand drew our atten-
tion toward the eastern bay. We
had come along just in time to see a
man draw up to the shore and throw
out of his boat three enormous strings
of fish, mostl}^ pickerel and pike and
a few eels.

It seemed to us that the man made
some haste to throw out his fish just
in time to catch our eyes. He in-
tended, no doubt, to have it appear
a fortuitous concurrence of circum-
stances rather than a dead set at an
exhibition, but his haste betrayed
him.

The pride people take in showing
their fish I believe runs in the blood.
With most fishermen, I think it may
be said, the desire to get their fish in

AT APPLE-TREE POINT, LAKE CHAMPLAIN.

:ii.

some way before the eye of the pub-
lic fairly amounts to a passion. It is
no uncommon thing for one of them

to secure a show window for their
display, then see a reporter and in-
advertently tell what great luck they
had, and so get an account of it in
the newspaper. In addition to that,
they will speak of it to all with whom
they are on speaking terms, and
write letters about it to their circle
of friends. But who knows but that
the fish themselves have an eye for
posthumous glory, though we may
never have seen in the eye of a dy-
ing fish any lingering look which ex-
pressed a hope of immortality ?

As we drove away from the lake
again our faces were brought toward
the farms, where men were at work
gathering in hay. The air was laden
with the aroma of hay — an aroma that
brings back the summers of one's
life, as if it were an index to all our
happiest days. The fields where the
mower had not been were waving in
the fresh breeze, and the clustered
daisies danced like whitecaps. There
appeared to have been a strife among
the daisies and buttercups, for they
refused to mix, or else a stronger
instinct of consanguinity pervaded
them. The daisies, white as silver,
were massed together, while the but-
tercups covered large patches of the
green sward with almost solid gold.
It was a field for bimetallists to re-
joice in, the silver holding its own in
proud contempt. Farther along we
came to an apparently boundless pas-
ture, where various kinds of cattle
were lying on the grass, chewing
what they had probably harvested in
the forenoon. It was the Ijond of
peace truly symbolized. I noticed
that most of them lay with their faces

toward the lake ; but I suppose that
was simply a matter of accidental
arrangement, though it was pleasant
to imagine them su.sceptible to the
fairest prospect.

Butter from these farms ought to
be put up in decorated packages for
wedding gifts. That would be one
way, at least, of impressing upon the
mind the value we attach to this pre-
cious and pure article. And the
milk from here, could we not cele-
brate that also ? I noticed the huge
.stacks of shining milk-pans at one of
the farm-houses as we passed, and I
thought with dismay of the milk I
was forced to drink at a certain
boarding-house in a small town in
New Hampshire early in the sum-
mer. It was served at the table as a
beverage, and one was obliged to
drink it, or drink nothing, for the
water had the flavor of a lead pipe,
and tramps would have kept clear of
the premises, I am sure, if we had
offered them our tea and coffee. I
recall with feelings of poignant sat-
isfaction the caustic little speech
Professor Somebody made at the
table one morning before the portly
proprietor of the house. The speech,
which was delivered off-hand, was
called forth by the professor's sudden
indignation at being handed a pitcher
of sour milk — a genuine imposition,
no doubt intended as such. The pro-
fessor had just arrived. I had been
in the house three days, and gladly
bade good-by to the house after the
third breakfast.

I did not set down the things the
professor said at the time he said
them, but the tenor of his di.scourse
ran very much like this :

"Now, Mr. Hemenway (that was
not his name, and I have forgotten

AT APPf.E-TREE POINT, LAKE CHAMPLAIX. 53

what it was ) , it does seem a remark- regard to the superiority of our state

ably strange fact to me, that I should as a milk and butter producing coun-

have heard, onl}' the other day, a try by the worthy member of the

worthy member of our New Hamp- New Hampshire Dairymen's Associa-

shire Dairymen's Association de- tion."

scribe in a most glowing array of After this squelching and pompous

rhetoric the eminence our state has valedictory, the professor, scarcely

gained, or is gaining, as a milk and looking to see what effect it had

butter producing state, thoroughly made, abruptly left the room,

merited, he said, through the supe- While I am indulging in these

rior quality of these products, and reminiscences I may as well report a

right here, where the truth of his conversation between some old men

assertions should be most amply I overheard while waiting for the

demonstrated, where I should expect morning train at the station. I

to find in this pitcher of milk traces, find a record of it in my note-book,

at least, of those excellent qualities which I made on the spot, for I had

w^iich are to gain for the state of nothing to do except to catch for

New Hampshire a commanding posi- my own amusement whatever was

tion as a milk and butter producing passing and to see whatever was

vState, I am surprised, and greatly going on.

surprised, to find that the contents of "There's Pete. I 'd like to know

this pitcher have recently undergone what be 's ever goin' to 'mount to.

changes of a nature very derogatory He 's worse than pizen on a farm,

to the encomiums of praise bestowed He worked for Jim Mahaly this fore-

upon this important and abundant noon, an' he paid him, and he went

fluid ; serious changes, indeed, such right straight off down to Morrises

as no citizen with a true pride in the and bought twenty-five cents worth

development of this worthy and noble of them chocolate creams. What

industry would ever permit to be d' ye think o' that ? Wh}^ since last

reported beyond the circumference of April, he's run through over sixteen

his breakfast table; and, if I may dollars and a half. Jim told me so

speak even more plainly, there is himself. I^ast Saturday he was down

very palpable evidence here that all to the mill all day talkin' to the boys,

that this milk ever contained of those doin' nothin'. Jim s'posed he was

virtues so dear to the husbandman shinglin' 'long with Hiram. I said

has been surreptitiously or otherwise I 'd go to halves with him on a half

removed, and as a reaction against an acre of beans one day after dinner,

the imposition of so gross a liberty an' he said he 'd go in with me, an'

upon an article of such original ex- I went an' got ready, an' got my

cellence, the milk itself has literally beans, an' got my ground all marked

turned its back, and has assumed an out, an' I set down and waited a

expression of cynical disgust. Be- spell, an', sir, he never came near

fore such contradictory testimonj^ as me the whole afternoon, an" I quit,

this, I am, as I have briefly inti- an' went home, and afterwards found

mated, very much surprised at the he 'd been runnin' 'round the village

remarks that were made to me in all the while, foolin' round. An'

THE (;reat pie case.

that 's just the way it goes. Ye to do with him is what puzzles me

can't place no dependence on him, clean through."

unless you follow him up with a raw- " How old is Pete, anyway? "

hide. He 's a measly mess, I can tell " Pete was nineteen, I think, last

ye, an' what Jim's folks is ever goin' August, or was it July? "

THE GREAT PIE CASE.

By Clarence Henry I'earson.

n{AKIN' of pie," said
Uncle Eliakim Elder-
blow as he absently
helped himself to a
second piece, "some-
how puts me in mind of how a pie
come marster nigh breakin' up the
Methodis church at Onion Ridge.
"Never heerd of it? Sho, now!
I thought everybody 'round here
knowed all about the gret pie case.
Come ter think, though, j^ou must 'a'
been purty 3'oung in them days, but
I remember it as though 'twas yis-
terday.

"You know ol' Eem Sampler, that
lives over on Pease Hill? Wal, ol'
Uncle 'Eisha Pease, who probabl}^
died afore you can remember, used
to be a neighbor of his, an' durin'
'Lisha's last sickness, Eera went one
night an' sot up with him. Every-
thing was pleasant, an' he went off
in the mornin', seemin' perfectly
friendly as fur as they noticed. But
afore long it begun to be whispered
'round that Eem had told that Mis'
Pease — Mis' Josephus Pease, Uncle
'Eisha's daughter-in-law, j^ou know —
had gin him some pie for luncheon
that night that was so tarnal tough
you could drive a board nail with it.
And it turned out that he had said
it, an' said it bold an' open in a num-
ber of places, too. That madded the

Peases wuss 'n anything, for they
was proud, high-spirited folks, an'
Mis' Pease had the name of bein'
the best cook in the hull town. There
was words passed between Josephus
Pease an' Eem, and then the thing
got inter the church an' the Peases
brought charges agin ol' Eem for
lyin'.

" Now, of course I do n't know the
fac's about that ere pie. I know Mis'
Pease could make pies that w^ould
make a hungr}' man feel glad from
the tip of his tongue clean to the tips
of his toes, for I' ve et 'em. But
mebbe, havin' sickness in the fam-
il}', she did n't put in jest the usual
amount of shortenin', or the oven
wan't het jest right; an' mebbe ol'
Eem's teeth had begun to fail up
on him, or he had a leetle tech of
rheumatiz in his jaws. Some folks
b'lieved one thing, and some b'lieved
another, and nothin' in that part of
the town ever made so much talk
sence ol' Widder Hill eloped with
the hired man ter git red of livin'
with her childun.

' ' On the day of the great church
trial, the hoss-sheds back of the
church was all full, an' there was
teams hitched ter the fences clean
up beyend the buryin'-ground. Afore
they got cammenced you could see
bunches of men an' women all up an'

THE CREAT PIE CASE.

down the road an' on the church-
yard, talkiu' ail' argyfyiii' an' makin'
gestures. I tell ye that ere hull com-
munity was jest a-bilin'. Bime-by
the bell struck, an' the folks flocked
inter the church, an' the house was
chock full.

' ' The Peases put on a lot of wit-
nesses ter show what a fust-rate cook
Mis' Pease was, an' how good her
pies allers was. Then some women
an' one reg'lar baker swore that no
pie crust could ever be made stiff
enough an' tough enough ter drive a
board nail. I tell ye things begun
to look mighty squally for ol' lycm
Sampler, but he liild his head as
high as a two-year-old colt, an' when
it come his turn ter have his say
he saj's ter the j edges, saj's he, 'I
aint no gret orator, but I 've got a
witness here that '11 prove that these
ere experts on pie crust don't know
what they 're talkin' about.

" With that he lugs out an ol' car-
pet bag an' takes out a pie an' a
piece of soft pine board an' a nail — a
tenpenn}^ nail. He passed the pie up
ter the kermittee of j edges ter let 'em
see that it was a genj^wine article an'
no mistake, an' then he went an' laid
the piece of pine on the altar rail, an'
took that ere pie for a hammer an'
driv the nail clean through it ! Yes,
sir — ee, he did, for I was there an'
seen it. Wal, 3'ou orter seen the
folks' faces change. Lem's stock
went up about a hundred per cent,
inside of a minute. If he had onl)^
ben satisfied ter let well enough
alone, he would, like enough, pulled
through all right. We all have our
weaknesses, poor, sinful creeters that

we air, an' Lem's partic'lar pet weak-
ness was a-wantin' to do everything
with a flourish. If he driv up inter
yer doorj'ard, he 'd come tearin' along
as though he was a-goin' to run clean
over the house an' fetch up with a
swoop an' a rattle of wheels that
would skeer ever}' hen on the place
inter highsteeric fits. An so, when
he see that he had surprised the
Pease party an' made a big hit, he
kinder lost his head.

"' Gentlemen Jedges, Feller Citi-
zens, an' Brethren and Sistren in the
Church,' he says, straightening his-
self up an' stickin' one hand inter the
front of his coat so 's to look like the
picters of Daniel Webster an' Frank
Pierce, ' I have tried in my poor,
weak, an' feeble way ter show you
how plaguey tough a pie can be
when it ain't cooked accordin' ter the
rools,' he says, 'but I want ter say
right here that the pie I et at Mr.
Elisha Pease's house was as much
tougher 'n this one as this one is
tougher 'n custard puddin',' an' then
he lifted his hands solemn an' im-
pressive like, an' called on the Lord
to witness the truth of w^hat he had
said.

"That cooked his goose. His
friends seen that he had gone too fur,
an' he lost most of his backin' right
there. When the hearin' was over,
the jedges agreed that nothin' ever
could be tougher 'n that pie, an' that
if Lem hadn't strained the truth in
the fust place, he had busted it all to
flinders at the trial, an' so his name
was took off the church books. An'
that was the end of the gret pie
case."

i^^.^

SUMMER."
By Jack Chandler.

I love the pleasant summer time,
When all is bright and fair,
And a sweet, balm^- fragrance
Seems to fill the air.

The little birdies singing,
As they flit from tree to tree :
They seem to say, "Oh, Svimmer,
We sing alone for thee."

I like to stroll into the wood,
And in some quiet nook,
I watch the fishes swimming
In the cool and shady brook.

The brook itself is happy.

And as it runs along.

With its babblings and its splashings.

It sings its joyous song.

I regret the close of Summer,
When all these things are past,
And Autumn with her falling leaves,
Has come to us at last.

' Written by Jack Cliandler, aged eleven years, as a school exercise, absolutely without assistance.

irid

Conducted by Fred Gowing, State Superintefidetit of Public Instruction.

HINTS TO TEACHERS.'

By James Monohon.

The moral atmosphere of the school- cal culture of their pupils, the question
room depends upon the personal char- is often suggested, "How far do they
acter of the teacher, and that character practise their own precepts?" Both ex-
is determined more by the condition of perience and observation have taught me
the teacher's health than by any other that teachers, as a class, are not careful
one thing. In life and literature there of their health, and do not sufficiently
is nothing sadder than the constant wail value a good, sound body as an element
which men and women make over the contributing to the largest professional
limitations set to their usefulness by success; that we too often forget that
reason of their physical infirmities. The cheerfulness, courage, patience, temper,
truth is, the scholars of this age have self-control, enthusiasm, and all the vir-
not yet recovered from the bad example tues which are the constituents of the
inherited from the mediaeval saints, who atmosphere in which are to grow and be
believed that a religious soul could be developed the human plants committed
the occupant only of a frail tenement, to our care, are the products very largely
But thanks to the physiologist who has of our bodily health.
proved the intimate relation between the I think it must have occurred to every
body and the soul, the influence of the one that we have a tendency to surround
old pagan gymnasium is replacing that our work with conditions which militate
of the monkish cloister. against our bodily well-being. Although

Our modern educational creeds recog- teachers have more holidays, more and

nize that importance of physical culture, longer vacations for recuperation, yet

and that school is wanting in duty to its statistics show that no class of people

pupils which does not include in its cur- so early break down under their work,
riculum gymnastic training. But, while I wish to refer brietiy to some things

teachers carefully insist upon the physi- which I believe are injurious to the

'A paper read before tlie Coiis County Teachers' Association, at Wliitefiekl. May 12, 1S97, by the principal
of Colebrook academv.

ED UCA TIONAL DEFAR TMENJ

health of the teacher, and, incidentally,
to suggest their removal. In the first
place, I believe that teachers are too
anxious. During term time they too
often wear a troubled look, like men
who walk on uncertain ground. The
thousand little annoyances of the school-
room, the natural friction attendant upon
discipline, the dulness and indifference
of pupils are borne home, impairing
appetite, destroying digestion, and dis-
turbing sleep. These concerns haunt
the mind in what recreations the teacher
is disposed to take, and nullify their
beneficial effects. They are ghosts that
will not down at his bidding. What
wonder, then, that so many men and
women fall early by the way, or are
compelled to withdraw from the profes-
sion, with shattered nerves and ruined
health ?

That the occupation of the teacher is
peculiarly exposed to events calculated
to disturb and annov the mind, no one
who has any practical knowledge of the
matter can attempt to deny. " But the
warning should produce the guard."
The profession that demands the most
sympathetic and sensitive nature should
be in possession of the healthiest nerv-
ous organism. No occupation is free
from harassing concerns, and no man
who engages in any work in life can
expect exemption from daily cares. But
he possesses the true secret of life who
knows how to leave his anxieties where
he leaves his work. Statesmen, gener-
als, authors, men who have achieved
great results in trying exigencies, have
preserved a strength equal to their work
by practising the priceless art of not
worrying.

Let the door that closes upon the
school-room close likewise upon all its
petty annoyances and anxieties. Let
the teacher bear to his home a mind

free and susceptible to healing and
healthful influences, that he may gain
the rest and refreshment he so much
needs for the renewal of his labor.

Akin to the worry and anxiety of the
teacher is the neglect of proper exer-
cise. What physical destruction worry
does not accomplish, over-study and
confinement effect. " But," the teacher
replies, "I have no time for exercise. I
am confined to my school-room seven or
eight hours daily, and the remainder of
the time which can be taken from sleep
must be devoted to the preparation of
to-morrow's lessons." The answer comes
in the language with which the teacher
often meets the objections of his pupils,
viz., "Take time."

" Health," says Emerson, "is wealth,"
and the experience of all time confirms
the assertion. The greatest power a
teacher can carry into his school-room
is a joyous, courageous, and enthusiastic
disposition — the offspring of bounding
health. Biliousness is as catching as
enthusiasm, and the teacher always be-
comes the pupil's barometer by which the
latter may foretell the condition of his
own mental atmosphere. Therefore, the
preservation of the health is a duty as
important, nay, vastly more important,
than the mental preparation for the
daily work.

There is another grave mistake into
which we as students have fallen — that
the greater number of hours given to
work, the greater the amount accom-
plished. If biography teaches one thing
plainly, it is that our most successful
authors and scholars have not spent a
great amount of time over their books,
but that they first learned Herbert Spen-
cer's educational dogma, "the necessity
of being a good animal." Scott, Dick-
ens, and Thackeray have taught us that
the most active use of the faculties of

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

the mind depends on a good digestion.
Not so very many years ago there
died in England the most remarkable
literary man of the age, who was pre-
eminently successful as a novelist, a
poet, a dramatist, and a statesman, in all
these departments exhibiting such a
perfection of skill and such a profundity
of erudition as to excite the wonder of
his contemporaries ; and yet Bulwer, at
the close of his life, confessed that he
never studied more than three hours a
day and even a less number while par-
liament was in session. It is related
of Elihu Burritt that he was more than
once obliged to give up school teaching
and betake himself to his leathern apron
and his blacksmith's hammer, because
he could not work long enough while
teaching to study with effect.

Evidently we, as students, have many
lessons to learn, but none more impor-
tant than this, that the use of the mind
must be accompanied by the exercise of
the body; that, as Plato advised, "the
mind and the body must be driven
equally, like a pair of horses," if we
would not reverse Juvenal's maxim and
have a dull mind in a dull body.

A physiological writer has said, that
the average expectation of life for
clergymen was 60 years; lawyers, 57;
physicians and professors, 56 ; and at
the end of a long table he adds, that
teachers of primary schools, that is,
schools below the colleges, are not over
healthful nor very long-lived, — a state-
ment not well calculated to fill with
hope and encouragement the youthful
aspirant for honor in primary work.
But is there anything in the nature of
the employment that should produce
such a result ? Teaching of itself, be-
yond all controversy, is the most health-
ful and exhilarating occupation in which
any man or woman can engage. What-

ever is detrimental to the health arises
from the accompanying circumstances
and the manner in which the work is
carried on.

There is another practice greatly
harmful to the teacher ; I mean the
excessive multiplication of details in
school management. Think of the sys-
tems of marking, of the daily accumula-
tion of written exercises of all sorts, of
the piles of examination papers, of the
records to be made up, reports to be
prepared, and a score of such collateral
necessities — or nuisances, if you prefer
to call them such, — the most of which
must be attended to out of school hours,
at that time which should be the teach-
er's own. Some of these things may be
of use in securing good work in the
school-room ; so far let them stand, but
the mass of them should be relegated
to the infernal regions, to which long
ago have been consigned the leathern
straps, the hard-wood ferules, birch
rods', and all other implements of
mediaeval ignorance and stupidity. Add
to this the practice of detaining after
school the dull and the idle, a practice
from which, through the teacher's con-
scientious desire to bring all to an
equal limit of advancement, it is so
hard to break away.

While teaching, not long ago, as I was
returning to my room from a long walk,
I had occasion to pass a school-house,
from which I saw issuing at rare inter-
vals a solitary pupil. I had, through
many boyish recollections, a sort of in-
stinctive sympathy with those roguish
delinquents; but, because of later and
sadder experience, I pictured to myself
the teacher within. Suffering from the
long confinement of seven or eight
hours often, when the sun has set and
the shadows are falling, she closes the
door behind her, and, utterly prostrated

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

by the large nervous expenditure of the
day, hastens to her home. After a light
supper, for which the stomach furnishes
no craving and " digestion does not wait
upon appetite," she returns to her tasks,
records, and marks, and tests, until ex-
hausted Nature can do no more, and
" sleep, that knits up the raveled sleeve
of care," comes to her relief. But even
sleep, "great Nature's balm," fails to
soothe her troubled rest. All night long
troops of infantile demons march across
the field of her mental, vision. In her
dreams she endures all the petty annoy-
ances of the day. The anxieties that
gloom her waking hours return with re-
doubled force during her fitful sleep,
and she wakes to her morning's work in
a worse plight than if she had been
visited the night before by "the horrors
of the nightmare and all her nine fold."
What wonder she is fretful ? What won-
der the natural unrest of childhood is
magnified through her shattered nerves
into great breaches of school decorum ?
What wonder her pupils call her cross
and peevish, and learn to dislike her?

This should be reformed in some
way. When the hour of dismissal has
come, let all the little ones be sent to
their homes, and let the teacher follow
as soon as possible, and remain in the
open air so long as the fragment of the
day will allow. In a majority of cases,
this practice of detaining after school
is thoroughly useless, and defeats its
own ends. 1 have never known a bad
boy made better nor a dunce converted
into a genius by any such practice.
Nay, rather I have known indifferent
boys made irretrievably bad, and dull
boys plunged into the depths of stu-
pidity.

There is but one thing more I wish
to speak of. "As dignified as a
schoolmaster" is a proverbial compari-

son which has very naturally grown out
of the common estimate of the teacher's
character. Teachers feel that they
needs must display a great deal of dig-
nity, not only for the good discipline
of their school, but also in order to in-
spire the respect of parents. It seems
to me that it is a very doubtful compli-
ment in a teacher when it is said of him
that " he has a pedagogic air." But
aside from the social aspect of the ques-
tion, all starchiness in character is un-
natural, and therefore injurious to the
health. The man who never unbends,
who never throws off his load of dignity,
and who does not instinctively seek to
indulge in the playfulness and the unre-
strained freedom of childhood cannot
be a healthy man. The kingdom of
heaven comes to us in this world only
when we are in the condition of little
children. I always liked the practice
which many teachers have of taking
part in the play of their pupils. It
brings teacher and pupil nearer to-
gether, more closely into sympathy with
each other.

But no more. I have said enough to
show that there are circumstances sur-
rounding the work of the teacher which
militate against his health, and conse-
quently against his highest success-
That these circumstances are for the
most part purely factitious, and in no
wise natural or necessary, I firmly
believe. Therefore, as we value our
own happiness, as we desire a long life
of useful work and the completest suc-
cess in our vocation, as we regard the
importance of creating in our schools
an atmosphere in which mind and char-
acter may be expanded into their high-
est perfection, let us lay aside the hin-
drances that so easily beset us, so that
we may run without weariness the race
that is set before us.

I : ,„//ifA I

DR. ASA F. PATTEE.

Dr. Asa F. Pattee, a practising physician in Boston for thirty-one years, died
June I. He was born at Warner in 1835, and was descended from a long line of
physicians back to William Pattee, who was physician to Oliver Cromwell and
King Charles II. In 1857, he received the degree of M. D. from Dartmouth col-
lege, and in 1859 began practice in Amesbury. In 1864, he entered the army as
acting assistant surgeon. In 1867, he lectured on chemistry and materia medica
at the New England Female Medical college. In 1883, he was elected professor
of materia medica and therapeutics, and lecturer on nervous diseases at the Col-
lege of Physicians and Surgeons at Boston. He was a member of the Massachu-
setts Medical society, the American Medical association, and was one of the
founders and for several years president of the Boston Therapeutical society.

ANDREW BUNTON.

Andrew Bunton died at his home in Manchester, June 18. He was born in
Manchester, August 6, 1842, and his education was gained in the public schools
of that city. On December i, 1856, when he was fourteen years of age, he en-
tered the employ of the express firm then known as Cheney & Company, and has
ever since remained in the express business, holding the position of agent and
state superintendent for the American Express company. The deceased was a
director in the Merchants' National bank, Manchester, and the New Hampshire
Fire Insurance company. He was an attendant for many years of the Unitarian
church, and was for a number of years a director in the society. He was also at
one time president of the New Hampshire club. Mr. Bunton was very prominent
in Masonry, being one of the two New Hampshire men to hold the active thirty-
third degree, and wielding great influence in the supreme council of the northern
jurisdiction. He was the most worshipful grand master of the grand lodge of
New Hampshire in 1880, and the right eminent grand commander of the grand
commandery of Knights Templar in 1883.

CHARLES S. KIDDER.

Charles S. Kidder, a widely known civil engineer, died at Manchester, June 12,
aged 69 years. He had been connected with surveying the railroad line across
the Isthmus of Panama, and also surveyed for a line in Central America. He
was at one time civil engineer for the Boston & Lowell railroad, and later city
engineer at Nashua. He was a veteran of the war and a Mason.

62 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

J. D. CHANDLER.

J. D. Chandler, 67 years of age, president of the Nashua Street railway, and
one of the three principal owners of the road, died June 3, at Nashua. He was
president of the Nashua board of trade, and for twenty-six years had been auditor
of the New Hampshire Fire Insurance company, having served through the entire
existence of the company. For the past thirty years Mr. Chandler had been over-
seer in the Jackson Cotton Manufacturing company.

JOHN D. PATTERSON.

John D. Patterson, one of Manchester's old citizens, died June 12, aged 76
years. He belonged to one of the old families of that section of the country. He
had lived a retired life for some time. He was a prominent Mason, being at one
time grand commander of the Grand Commandery of New Hampshire, Knights
Templar.

COMMANDER GEORGE E. WINGATE.

Commander George E. Wingate died June 7, at Maiden, Mass. He was born
at Portsmouth, July 10, 1837. ^^ went to sea in the merchant service from 1854
to 1862, making voyages to China, India, South America, and other foreign ports.
He entered the United States navy in October, 1863, in the West Gulf blockading
squadron, as acting engineer. He was promoted to master in the regular service,
March, 1868; to lieutenant, December 18, 1868; to lieutenant-commander, July
13, 1870: to commander May 26, 1887. His last station was at the Charlestown
yard, where he remained until his last illness.

CHARLES G. STEVENS.

C. G. Stevens, 75 years old, died in Clinton, Mass., June 13, after a lingering ill-
ness, of old age. He was a native of Claremont, and was a nephew of the late
Paran Stevens. He was graduated from Dartmouth college in 1840. After grad-
uating, he went to Lancaster, and began law practice. He was the leader in the
movement to make Clinton a town, and was a judge in the law courts of eastern
Worcester for a number of years. He was the president of the First National
bank at Clinton, from its inception until a year ago, and has represented the town
in both branches of the legislature.

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXHT.

AUGUST, 1897.

No. 2.

FRANCIS MARCH HATCH,

By Clarence Jo/inson.

OST men who have de-
voted themselves to the
study of international
politics, have come to
the conclusion that dip-
lomats are made, not born. Eu-
ropean nations have long proceeded
on this principle, and, as a result,
have at their command trained diplo-
mats, with whom the representatives
of our government are often at great

disadvantage. In

grave

matters of

state we are sometimes buncoed by
these gentlemen, ^^ho owe their
superiority to long and active servdce
in this important bra ich of govern-
ment. Occasionally, however, a
diplomat springs from the people
fully equipped for his calling by
natural ability and general adapta-
tion of mind and temperament. In
diplomatic relations, as in other im-
portant affairs of the world, the emer-
gency sometimes produces the man.
This has been demonstrated in the
recent hi.story of the island of
Hawaii, for whose annexation to
this country a treat}' is now pending.

^^r ' ^F^ '

'^ ^ Mr

-^imt

Ml*

m 1

Mrs. Hatch.

FRANCIS MARCH HATCH.

fU{**ff

Miss Harriet Hatch — Age, Seven.

In January, 1893, when Queen Liliu-
okalani was overthrown, the patriotic
citizens of the island, man}- of whom
had never before actively engaged in
politics, took possession of the gov-

ernment, and led b}- such men as
President Dole, administered affairs
with a firm hand, despite the intrigues
of the deposed queen and her Eu-
ropean assistants. The difficulties of
the situation were so man}' and of
such serious character that even the
most enthusiastic friends of the new
movement trembled for its success.
But the men who had given up their
usual occupations and unselfishly

Master Gilcr-.rist Hatch, as He Appears on His
Heath " at Honolulu. — Age, Four,

Native

Landing Passengers and Freight on Island of Hawaii.

A large portion o'f the coast of Hawaii con-
sists of these high plnffs, against whose rocky
sides the ocean waves continually dash with
almost resistless force. No boat could land in
such a turmoil, and immense cranes have been
erected, as shown in the illustration, by means
of which passengers and freight are hoisted into
the air and swung to the shore. The man at the
end of the rope looks as if he might be having a
rather unpleasant five minutes.

devoted themselves to the cause of
good government and the best inter-
ests of Hawaii, although without
previous experience, soon proved
that the}' were equal to the task
they had undertaken, and all doubt

FRANCIS MARCH HATCH.

Mr. Hatch's Honolulu Home.

This view of Mr. Hatch's Honolulu residence gives a
general idea of the style of house architecture in Hawaii.
There is more veranda room than is usual in this country
even in summer homes, but otherwise Honolulu residences
are very much like those in the United States, varying in
style and elaborateness to suit the tastes and pocket-books
of the owners. Mr. Hatch certainly has a delightful home,
.with its inviting verandas and its wealth of tropical shade-
trees and shrubbery.

as to the result was dispelled. Their
success not only demonstrated their
ability to govern well the island
whose inhabitants were distracted by
opposing interests and inharmonious
nationalities, but it also brought to
the front men who did not hesitate to
grapple with the diplomatic questions ciated with his father for two years.

when lives and property
were alike at stake, and
when every man who acted
a prominent part jeopard-
ized all that he had, and
his future as well, was
Francis March Hatch, who
i previous to the o\-erturn of
Queen Liliuokalani's gov-
ernment had for fifteen
years been a practising
lawyer in Honolulu. Mr.
Hatch is a New Hamp-
shire man, a son of the
late Albert R. Hatch of
Portsmouth, who was
known throughout the state
as a lawyer of ability and
character, and a brother of
the Hon. John Hatch of
Greenland, now a member of the
bank commission. He was fitted for
college in the Portsmouth schools,
was graduated from Bowdoin in the
class of '73, studied law with his
father, and was admitted to the bar
in 1876. After having been asso-

involved, and to meet, though on un-
equal terms, the trained representa-
tives of the leading nations of the
world. In the controversies which
ensued, the Hawaii an s have
been able to hold their own,
and to score some decisive
victories, the latest of w^hich
is the negotiation with the
McKinley administration of
the annexation treaty, signed
on the part of the Hawaiian
government by Francis March
Hatch, Lorrin A. Thurston,
and William A. Kinney.

Among the men whom Pres-
ident Dole gathered about him
in the time of extreme peril.

he went to Honolulu in 1878, and
immediately began to practise law^ in
the Hawaiian courts. Although he
took no part in politics, devoting

Veranda — Mr. Hatch's House, Honolulu.

Bird's-eye View of Honolulu.

Honolulu Harbor.

This view of Honolulu harbor shows one of the peculiarities of the place. In the background
are the picturestjue mountains, at the base of which is the famous citj\ Lying at the wharves, in
water deep enough for the heaviest battle ships of the world, are scores of vessels, ranging from a
small cat-boat to an ocean steamer; while in the immediate foreground, standing on a reef, a sort
of backbone thrown up out of the sea, is a native in full fishing costume. He also wears this cos-
tume when he isn't fishing.

FRANCIS MARCH HA TCI/.

Old Missionary Church.

Built of blocks of coral cut out of a reef, under water, with axes. The coral is soft while
under water, but after exposure to the atmosphere becomes almost as hard as marble. The
blocks used in building the church measure about three feet by two feet bj- eighteen inches.

himself to his profession, iu which he
attained eminence, yet he was always
greatly interested in the welfare of
the island and its development. He
felt that the time was not far distant
when the rule of the native sov-
ereigns must end, but was willing
that their dethronement should come

in the natural course of events, with-
out undue hastening by himself and
those who, like him, had full faith in
the future of Hawaii.

"When the queen threw aside the
constitution and put forth her own
dictum as law, the citizens of Hawaii
acted with promptness and vigor.

•jX-

The Famous Captain Cook's Monument, Erected by the British Government Captain Cook Died in 1778.

FRANCIS MARCH HATCH.

-^=135

Judiciary Building, Honolulu.

and Mr. Hatch at once came to the
front as a leader in the movement.
On the formation of the provisional
government, he became a member of
the Advisory Council, which was, in
fact, a legislative body, and later he
was made vice-president. In Feb-
ruary, 1894, when the department of
foreign affairs was organized as a
bureau separate from the executive
ofhce, by request of President Dole
he accepted the position of minister
of foreign affairs, and acquitted him-
self in a manner which stamped him

as a born diplomativSt, carrying
through the delicate and intricate
problems, which the change in gov-
ernment had precipitated, with skill
and prudence. So well did he per-
form his arduous duties that he was
by unanimous consent selected under
the new constitution (adopted July 3,
1894, and promulgated on the fourth)
as the diplomatic representative of
Hawaii to this countr}-, and he was
received at Washington as envoy ex-
traordinar}' and minister plenipoten-
tiary in November, 1895. Since

Cocoanut Grove.

FRANC IS MARCH HATCH.

Portion of the Harbor near Honolulu.

then he has devoted himself to the
one maiu purpose of negotiating a
treaty of annexation to the United
States, which after nearly two >'ears
of constant struggle against adverse
circumstances and conditions, has
been signed, and is now before the
senate for ratification. That it will
be ratified is almost an assured fact,
but whether it is or not, Mr. Hatch
has established his reputation as an
astute and courageous diplomat.

In private life Mr. Hatch is one of
the mo.st unassuming of men. Pleas-
ant and dignified in manner, witty

and refined in conversation, he im-
presses every one with whom he
comes in contact as a courteous gen-
tleman, as well as a man of force and
character. He was married, in 1888.
to Miss Alice Hawes of San Fran-
cisco, by whom he has two children.
Miss Harriet, aged seven, and Mas-
ter Gilchrist, aged four, and a hap-
pier family is not to be found. After
the treaty has been confirmed by
the senate, he intends to return
to Hawaii and resume his interrup-
ted law business, although the many
friends he has made in Washing-

Native Grass House (now all gone).

FRANCIS MARCH HATCH.

Palace,

Built under Kalakaua, at a cost of $250,000. Now used as an executive building by President
Dole and his cabinet, also as a place of meeting by the legislature.

ton would be more than pleased if likely to be intensified when the

they could induce him to remain treaty has been ratified and the coun-

there. But he looks on Hawaii as try of his adoption becomes a part of

his home, and that feeling will be the country of his birth.

Hawaiian Woman in Riding Costunrie.

The costume consists of a long piece of bright-colored calico, which she wraps about her
so that it will wave in the wind as she rides along. P'ormerly scores of these brilliantly arrayed
women could be seen almost any day riding about the streets of Honolulu, but civilization and
annexation are fast obliterating the picturesque from Honolulu, which is destined soon to be one
of the foremost commercial cities.

THE CHIMNEY SWALLOW

By Ray Laurancc.

There 's a deep, old red chimney,
Far away from the town,
On a low rambling farm-house,
All mossy and brown.
Where high waving tree-tops
Their branches bend o'er.
And sweet purple lilacs
Wave near the front door.

In that deep, old red chimney,
Far away from the town.
Is a rough, shallow nest
Of twigs sooty brown.
Where four tiny swallows
Are lying so still,
While the swift swallow mother
Skims over the hill.

Away she is flying.

Now dipping so low,

Searching for food

For the children below.

Who "chirp, chirp," .so loudly.

As downward she flies,

In the deep, old red chimne}-

Where her happiness lies.

The wind shakes the tree-tops.
The raindrops come down,
But safe in the chimney
Is the nest, sooty brown.
For wide-.spreading elm tree
With long, slender arm,
Bends low o'er the farm-house
To guard from all harm.

O swallow sprite, dwelling

Away from the town.

Are you guarding the hearthstone

Of small farm-house brown ?

Are the feather}- smoke wreaths

That rise from below,

The gho.sts of the memories

Of woods long ago i*

A Combination Display: Celestial Sweet-Peas in Vase, Eliza EcKtord bweet-Peas on Table

A vSTUDY OF SWEET-PP:AvS.

PART TI.

By Clarence Moores Weed.

the edges,

HE blossoms of the
Blanche Ferry sweet-
pea are of m e d i u m
size, with the standard
bright pink, lighter at
and the wings white,
veined with a delicate color ap-
proaching rose-pink. In some speci-
mens both the standard and wings
are marked and striped with solferino
— a variation that is not pleasing to
every one. The standard is rather
stiff and reflexed, bending away from
the wings at a wide angle. But the
flowers are charming in loose masses,
and are borne freely on the vigorous
plants. By planting the extra early
strains now upon the market, blos-
soms may be obtained very early in
the season.

America , introduced in
1895, is perhaps the most
striking in appearance of any
of the red and white varieties.
Both standard and wings have
a white background, thickly
streaked and penciled with an
intense crim.son-scarlet color.
In most specimens the crim-
son scarlet is more abundant
than the white. The upright
standard curves back on the
edges and is notched in the
middle above, while the wings
are not very s y m m e t r i c a 1 .
Consequently, America has
not the grace of form pos-

sessed by the best hooded types,
although the flowers are of large
size. In decorative work it may be
used to advantage alone or mixed
with a white variety.

The dainty Daybreak is a charm-
ing variet}', notwithstanding that at
present it must be considered a
promise rather than a performance.
It was introduced in 1896, and
originated with the Rev. W. T.
Hutchins, of Indian Orchard, Mass.,
the most noted sweet-pea specialist in
America. As far as can be judged
from our specimens, the plant is
weak and unthrifty, the flower stems
are short, and the blossoms them-
selves are small and poor in form.
Yet the color combination is .so de-

Fig. 13 — A Jar of Daybreak Sweet-Peas.

.-I STCDV OF SWEET-PEAS.

the jar is a simple Japanese affair,
vinaceous pink in general color,
lighth' washed with a warm gray,
and blending below into a subdued
grayish brown.

THE SELF-COLORED
TIES.

PINK VARIE-

Fig. 14 — Oddity Sweet-Pea Natural Size.

lightful that one forgives all else, and
gladly welcomes it, hoping that a few
years of further selection will enable
it to outgrow its faults and increavSe
its charms. On the central part of
the back side of the flat standard
there is a bright blotch of rose-red,
with delicate stipplings and pencil -
ings scattered on a white ground
over the rest of the sur-
face. The front side of
the standard in typical
flowers is not blotched,
but simply stippled and
penciled with rose-red in
a most dainty manner.
The wings should be
white, but as yet many
of them are more or less
marked with solferino or
rose-red.

The Daybreak is a
very dainty sweet -pea,
and may well be used
in spreading masses in
low jars. In Fig. 13,

Venus is a delicate flesh-colored,
pink variety, very soft and pleasing
in its color effect. It is one of the
most charming of the pinks, being of
medium size, with hooded flowers of
good form. Unfortunately, the plant
blooms only sparsely, .so that one
values all the more the comparatively
few flowers developed. This variety
is beautiful in clear glass vases.

The Blushing Beauty sweet-pea is
a salmon-pink, similar to Venus and
Royal Robe, and perhaps rather
better than either. The plant is a
poor bloomer.

The Royal Robe is another soft
pink sweet-pea, but it produces so
few blossoms that it is not worth
planting. The flowers are a little
brighter in color than those of Venus.

The Empress of India is an excel-

Fig. 15 — A Jar of Oddities.

A sTi'py or swiU'.T-pr.iS.

/.■)

lent salmon-colored variety, having
the standard flat and somewhat stiff
in appearance. The plant produces
blossoms in only moderate numbers.

The Mrs. Gladstone sweet-pea is
generally recognized as one of the
best of the pink varieties. The
flower is of medium size, with convex
standard and rounded tip, of a soft
and delicate rose-pink color. Under
good culture it blooms profusely
through a long season.

At a little distance the color effect
of a bunch of the Mi.ss Hunt sweet-
peas is a brilliant rose-red. When
the flowers are examined closely, one
sees that the standard is rose-pink
and the wings rose-purple, the con-
trast being greater in older flowers.
The blossoms are of medium size,
fair form and good texture. The
plant blooms rather freel}'. The
flowers mass admirabh-, and on ac-
count of their brilliant color are ex-
cellent for lighting up dark cor-
ners.

The Oddity is an extremely inter-
esting sweet-pea. It is rose-red in
color, being in this respect quite sim-
ilar to the Miss Hunt, but it differs
from that and all other varieties by
its unique shape, due to the incur\--
ing of the margins of the standard
and wings both above and below,
producing a squarish effect that for
a change is rather pleasing. The
group shown in Fig. 15 was a fas-
cinating study in form and color.
The small Japanese jar is whitish in
general tone, but is oddly marked
and penciled in soft blue greens and
delicate browns. The top is mar-
gined in a soft yellow green. The
squarish shape of the vase is repeated
in a vSense by the form of the flowers,
the colors of which ]:)roduce a com-

plementary harmony with the stems
and vase.

On account of its unique color, the
Orange Prince has long been a favor-
ite with lovers of sweet-peas. No
other variety has given the combina-
tion of orange pink and rose-red so
effective for decorative uses. Be-
cause of its color much has been for-
given it, for the blossoms are small,
of poor shape, and have a teudencj'
to lose their good tones as they grow
older. Since Mr. Eckford gave us
Meteor, however, in i8g6, we can
bid adieu to Orange Prince without
a pang. For Meteor combines the
unique color with a larger and better-
shaped blossom, borne on a longer
stem. It is apparently the result of a
selection from Orange Prince. The
standard is of good shape, generally
with a wedge above, and in color is
a peculiar orange-pink. The wings
are recurved on the edges, and are
suffused rose-red, with the veins
broadly outlined in a slightly deeper
shade.

The Meteor blossoms I have in
hand are half again as large as the
flowers of Orange Prince, and three
fourths as large as the best Blanche
Burpees I can find. In Professor
Bailey's admirable sweet-pea bulle-
tin, Mr. Walter Rohnert writes :
"Meteor is a decided improvement
upon Orange Prince, but will not be
appreciated until it is brought up to
the grandiflora type." Our speci-
mens are certainly sufficiently large
to be appreciated, and now compare
favorably with many of the grandi-
flora sorts.

Meteor — and in lieu of it Orange
Prince — looks particularly well alone.
Its glowing colors are a delight, of
which the eve never tires. Two or

A STUDY OF SWEET-PEAS.

Fig. 16 — Sweet-Peas: Celestial and Countess of Radnor on the left; Blancfie Burpee on tfie right.

three dozeu flowers with a stem or
two showing leaves and tendrils,
loosely dropped into a tumbler-
shaped vase, are simply irresistible.
This is another variety fitted for
lighting up the dark corners of a
room.

THE RED SWEET-PEAS.

For brilliancy of color effect few
sweet-peas surpass the variety called
Invincible Scarlet, though it is really
a brilliant carmine. The flowers are
of medium size, with the standards
reflexed in fully open flowers. When
used in solid masses of color in a
blue-green jar, it forms a comple-
mentary harmony that is extraordi-
narily effective.

Invincible Carmine is a poor va-
riety, very similar in c(jl(jr to the
one just named, ])Ut the plant is not

so thrifty and does not bloom so
freely.

The blossoms of the Firefly are
among the most brilliant' of sweet-
peas. The} are a "glowing, crim-
son scarlet," of good size and firm in
substance. In general, this variety
does not bloom very freely, although,
as in the case of other red varieties,
notably the Invincible Carmine, the
results seem to depend ver}' largely
upon the strain from which the seed
was derived.

For a generally useful deep red
sweet-pea of good size that can easily
be grown in abundance, the Boreat-
ton is a very satisfactory variety.
The general color tone is deep ma-
roon, though close at hand the wings
show a more purplish tinge than do
the standards. The back side of the
convex standards is also lighter and

A STUDY OF SWEET- PEAS.

more glisteuiug than the front. The
plant is very vigorous and blooms
freely during a long season. I like
to use Boreatton blossoms alone for
the color effects. A mass of the
iiowers placed alone in a blue-green
jar forms a very effective comple-
mentary harmony.

The Stanley is a slightly darker
variety than Boreatton, with stand-
ards flat rather than convex, so that
it is rather better in form. In mass,
the general color is very similar in
the two varieties. Unfortunately,
Stanley does not bloom freely, differ-
ing markedly in this respect from
Boreatton.

THE VIOLET AND BLUE VARIETIES.

At first sight one is likely to con-
sider the Celestial sweet-pea identical
with the Countess of Radnor. The
shape of the flowers and the color
tones are very similar. From ap-
pearances it would seem that one
was a selection from the other, but
the originators tell us that the Celes-
tial has ' ' been fixed after four years
of careful cross-fertilization of the
well-known variety Senator." In
both sorts the newly-opened blos-
soms are of a delicate lilac tint, shad-
ing centrally more or less
into lavender, while the
older blossoms are a pure
and delicate lavender. On
a given tress the upper
blossoms, which, as re-
gards time of opening, are
the younger, are lilac in
color, while the lower flow-
ers that have been open
longer are lavender. On
the whole. Celestial shows (?^'
considerably more blue,
though one can easily

select indixidual tresses of each
variety in which the difference
in color cannot be distinguished.
Bunches of each placed side by side
in a partially darkened room show
the difference ; while by artificial
light it is still more marked, though
the pink tones of both are then ver\-
much in evidence.

In form and texture of flowers, the
Celestial and the Countess of Radnor
are verj- similar, both being of the
best hooded type. In both, the stand-
ard is frequently notched on the mar-
gin near the middle of each side.
The blossoms of Celestial average a
little larger and the plant appears to
bloom more freely than the Countess
of Radnor, the latter bearing only
a moderate number of blossoms. In
both varieties the plants are vigorous
and the flower stems long.

The standard and wings of the
Waverly variety" form a pleasing,
analogous harmony. The standard
is violet red and the wings are red
violet. The flower is of medium size
and good in form, while the plant
produces a moderate number of blos-
soms. The little pitcher shown at
the left in Fig. 17 contains Waverly
blossoms. The pitcher is flushed

Fig. 17 — A Study in Blue and Violet.

A STUDY OF SWEET- PEAS.

with lavender above, and forms with
the blossoms a pleasing combination.
The Violet Queen is not a satisfac-
tory sweet-pea. The flowers are
small with the standard flat and red,
the color fading toward the margins,
while the wings are a poor violet red.
The plant produces few blooms.

Fig. 18 — Dorothy Tennant Sweet-Pea Natural Size,

The Etna sweet-pea has small
flowers, similar to those of the Violet
Queen, with the red better diffused
over the standards. The plant of
this variety also yields few flowers.

Dorothy Tennant is perhaps the
best of the violet-red varieties. The
plant is thrifty and vigorous, bearing
the good-sized flowers freely. It
combines charmingly with varieties
like the Countess of Radnor and the
Blanche Burpee. A single spray is
shown, natural size, in Fig. i8.

The Emily Eckford is generall}- to
be distinguished from the other vio-
let varieties by the greater contrast
in the colors of the standard and

wings. The former is red violet,
while the latter are blue violet. In
older blossoms there is more blue.
The quality of the flower is good, as
is also its form, but the plant blooms
only sparsely, and the variety seems
not sufficiently distinctive to be
worthy of cultivation in small collec-
tions when we have the freer-
blooming Doroth}' Tennant to
give nearly the same color
tones.

The blossoms of the Senator
sweet-pea are of good size and
firm substance, with the stand-
ard hooded above and the
wings recurved. The ground
color is pale lavender, show-
ing mostly near the margins
on account of the red-violet
penciliugs and markings,
which give the flower its pre-
vailing color, that at a dis-
tance appears as violet. The
wings are darker in their
markings than the standard.
The variety called Princess
of Wales is similar to the
Senator- sweet-pea in general
color effect, having somewhat more
blue in the wings. The flowers are
of good size and form, and the plant
grows vigorously and blooms freely.
In this latter respect it is superior to
the Senator variety, and as it appears
to be certainly as good as that sort in
every other way, it should have the
preference.

It seems impossible for so coquet-
tish a flow^er as the sweet-pea to
assume a stately dignity, but the
Oray Friar has gone farther in this
direction than any other variety.
The stems are strong and graceful.
The blossoms are held well up, being
of large size, firm in substance, and

A STUDY OF SWEET- PEAS,

of uniform appearance.
The standard approaches
perfection in form and
cur\-es, and the wings
are good in si/e and
shape. In color, the
Gray Friar has a back-
ground of white, most
conspicuous along the
ed2:es, nearly hidden bv
stipplings and pencilings
of beautiful mauve, va-
rying, however, in occa-
sional specimens to rose-
purple on the one side
and violet on the other.

The pitcher shown in the photo-
graph is of a simple Japanese pattern,
colored in subdued grays and browns.
The Gray Friar blossoms look par-
ticularly well in masses.

Fig.

The

originators

of the Juanita

Fig. 19 — A Mass of Gray Friar Blooms.

20 — A Composition with Tanagra Statuette.

sweet-pea tell us that the variety is
a selection from the Countess of Rad-
nor, a statement frequently verified
by the blossoms reverting to that
variety. In form, substance, and
length of stem, Juanita is all that can
be desired. The color is
white, with delicate pencil-
ings of lavender. It is not
a striking blossom, and in
vases should be placed in a
good light.

The New Lottie Eckford
sweet-pea suggests the But-
terfly in its form and color.
When well grown, the blos-
som is of large size, the
standard of one I have in
hand measuring one and one
half inches across the mid-
dle. The standard is consid-
erably hooded. The wings
are wide and quite horizontal
with their front ends cur\'iug
downward. Frequently the
standard is double. In color,
this Lottie Eckford is white at
the bases of the petals, grad-
ually assuming an increas-
ingly deeper lavender hue

A STUDY OF SWEET-PEAS.

Fig. 21 — New Lottie Eckford Sweet-Peas.

toward the outer edge, and the edges
are fringed with a distinct Hne of
lavender. This is a very charming
variety, which one would be loath to
omit from even a small collection.
The jar shown in Fig. 21 is small,
and of a general gray color, marked
with a conventional blue design.

The Butterfly sweet-pea is a charm-
ing variety on account of the delicac}"
of its colors and the airj- grace of its
form. In both respects it resem-
bles the New Lottie Eckford,
which, however, is a consider-
ably larger blossom. A mass of
the Butterflies is quite unique in
its fluffy effect.

The Captain Clarke is a tri-
colored sweet-pea, but it is not
ver}- pleasing in its color effect.
The standard is tinged with a
light tint of violet red, especially
on the front surface, while the
wings are white, edged with a
tint of blue violet. The flowers
are rather small, with flat stand-
ards, biit the plant blooms pro-
fuseh'.

The Captain of the Blues is one
of the best blues. The standard

is red violet, merging into
violet in the middle, while
the wings are blue violet.
The flower is large, of
good form, and the plant
is vigorous and blooms
freely. ]\Ir. Hutch ins
rightly calls this a "no-
ble flower." The blos-
soms are very effective in
vases having a tone of
blue in their make-up,
such, for example, as the
one shown in Fig. 22.

THE CUI.TURE OF THE
SWEET-PEA.

One reason why the sweet-pea is
so popular is because it is so easily
grown. It revels in the borders of
the garden where man}- flowers would
barely survive, and after being well
started early in the spring and fur-
nished with some support on which
to climb, it only requires that its
blossoms shall be frequentl}- and reg-
ularly cut. The height to which the
vines grow depends greatly upon the

Fig. 22 — Captain of the Blues Sweet-Peas.

A STUDY OF SWEET- PR AS.

soil. In gardens favored in this re-
spect it is often necessary to mount
a step-ladder to reach the flowers,
but, fortunately, excellent blossoms
are produced when the plants grow
to only a moderate height.

"If sweet-peas are to continue to
bloom throughout the
season, the soil must
be rich and capable of
holding moisture. A
thin, dry soil will not
grow good peas. In
light soils it is well to
apply a liberal dres-
sing of manure to the
soil in the fall, plow-
ing it under very ear-
ly in the spring ; and
in addition to this, a
dressing of some con-
centrated fertilizer in
the spring will be useful,
chief thing is moisture,
must be well and deeply
increase

dure dry weather better when thinly
planted. . . . Deep planting also
enables the sweet-pea to resist dry
weather. It is a good plan to make
furrows four or six inches deep, drop
the peas in the bottom and cover an
inch or so. Then as the plants grow,

j^^'^^^mt'i<Lmkmm^i^L:^L

Fig. 23 — A Pair of Chinese Vases with Sweet-Peas.

the earth is gradually filled in about
the plants until the furrow is full. If
there is danger that these furrows
will fill with water and hold it for
It is ordinarily advised to till the soil some time, the peas should not be
frequently after the peas are planted, planted so deep, and the furrows
until they begin to bloom, at which filled at once. Early planting is also

its water-holding

But the

The land

fitted to

capacity.

time all cultivation should cease. I
do not believe that this is safe ad-
vice.

' ' The laud becomes hard by con-
stant tramping of visitors when the

desirable. In this latitude (Ithaca,
New York) we can plant as early as
the first of April on warm soil. — that
is, a month before liard frosts have
ceased. The sweet-pea is a hardy

plants are in bloom, and the evap- plant, and the seed is not injured by

oration from the soil is thereby much cold weather. I ha\-e known

greatly increased. A heavy mulch good results from planting the seeds

of straw or litter may be placed on in the fall, but this practice is uure-

the soil when the plants begin to liable in the Northern states. I

bloom, to conser^'e the moisture ; but
if the rows are far enough apart to
allow of it, a frequent stirring of the
soil all through the season with a
horse or hand cultivator will be found
to be the most efficient conservator
of moisture. The plants also en-

doubt if it can be recommended with
full confidence north of Norfolk.
If there are any secrets in
the growing of sweet-peas they are
these: A rich, well-prepared soil,
early and rather deep planting, pick-
ing off the pods as soon as they form,

A STUDY OF SWEET-PEAS.

and the judicious selecting of seed
and varieties.'"

It is necessary that commercial fer-
tilizers be used sparingly and with
care. Work the material thoroughly
into the soil. I have seen many
plants injured through the improper
application of these fertilizers."

Every lover of sweet-peas knows
how lavish the plant is in the produc-
tion of its beautiful blossoms. A
small packet of seeds of an}- of the

annoyance. Some May morning,
when one looks with eager eyes upon
the slender plants bravely pushing
upward, here and there a stem is
found prone upon the surface, hav-
ing been nibbled off just above the
ground. If there is but one of the
severed plants, be glad, and straight-
way dig carefully about the roots
until an inch or so beneath the sur-
face you unearth a fat and juicy-
looking worm. 'Tis the culprit long

Fig. 24 — A Study in Blue and Yellow.

better varieties will result in a sur-
prising number of blooms during the
season. The record kept b}^ Mr.
W. N. Craig, of the spikes cut from
a row sixty feet in length of sweet-
peas of several of the best varieties,
showed these results: "June, 2,000;
July, 17,600; August, 18,000; Sep-
tember, 6,400; October, 3,500; total,
47-500."

The cultivator of sweet-peas gen-
erally has few experiences to try his
temper. But there is one vexatious
enemy that frequently causes much

1 L,. H. Bailey, " Hulletiii iii," Cornell University
Experiment Station.

-For further information regarding the culture
of sweet-peas, consult Hutchins's "All about Sweet-
Peas."

known in garden lore as the cut-
worm, although scientists will tell
you that under this comprehensive
sobriquet some scores of insects are
confounded. But to you — as to the
precious peas — it matters little
whether the particular individual
you have got after patient digging
rejoices to be called Agrotis sub-
got hica or Pcridroma sane i a or Noc-
tiia cla?idesii)ia, — though probably
the last name will seem to you most
fitting. L,et no guilty worm escape,
but I leave to your discretion the
particular manner of his taking off,
and merely suggest that cutworms
may be killed by means of chloro-

THE PETERBOROUGH HHLS.

form, the guillotine, the stiletto, or
the barnyard fowl, not to mention
such time-honored methods as quar-
tering, breaking upon the wheel, or
the still more ancient one of bruising
beneath the human heel.

Possibly it may comfort you to
know that the cutworm came to the
peas from the neighboring grass,
where it spent the winter in a half-
grown condition. In spring it feeds
upon almost an}- sort of plants that
are met with on its nightly wander-
ings. During the past season, I had

to fight these worms for three weeks,
losing many plants of the choicest
varieties. Fortunately, however, if
the peas are well-rooted before cut
off, they will send up new shoots, so
that they are not wholly lost.

About the first of June our com-
mon species of cutworms become full
grown. They then go a little deeper
into the soil than is their wont, where
each hollows out a cell in which it
changes to the quiet pupa state.
Two or three weeks later thej' emerge
as night-flying moths.

THE PETERBOROUGH HILLS.
By Alice Elizabeth Rich.

I love these low hills in the green of the summer,

I love them in autumn's rich vesture of brown.

And oft in the spring do I worship in wonder,

As bej'ond their grey crests the great sun purples down.

Yet never so calm in majestical beauty.
Never so solemn, so strong, or so grand.
As when in the whiteness of beautiful winter
They tell me that God watches over the land.

As I look from the slope of Mont Vernon's quaint village,
I know that the valley and home lie below.
Yet I see but the sturdy white sentinels standing
With halos of grey in a roseate glow.

And I think if I ever lose faith in my brother,

Or stray from Thy love, O our Father divine,

I shall think of these proofs of eternal protection.

And come back to Thee, through these white hills of Thine.

FRAXCESTOWX.

liy George K. Wood.

the heart of Hillsbor-
ough couuty, with the
peaks and spurs of
Crotchet, — the spark-
ling sources of the Pis-

a mineral vein of
within her bound-

cataquog, — and
great celebrity
aries, her an-
nals written,
her institution
of learning as
old as the cen-
tury, Frances-
tow^n, the birth-
place and edu-
cator of high
dignitaries in
state and na-
tion, in the
3'ear of hope
1897 ma}' con-
tribute much
to literature
and to history.
The majority
of Xew Eng-
land tow^ns may
be said to be
fortunate in
their founders and happy in their
historians. We hesitate to assert
that the historians of Francestown
have contributed to her felicit}',
while we speak with confidence of
the founders thereof, since the}' were
intelligent, strong-featured Scotch-
Irish from Londonderry, and enter-
prising hard-sensed English-Ameri-

though

Brennan Fall

cans from Dedham, Mass. The
period of the settlement was favor-
able, since the colonists, who had for
more than seventy-five ^-ears been
battling with Indians and with
Frenchmen, were taking breath,
they knew it not, for the
supreme strug-
gle which was
to come. Ded-
ham had for
more than a
centur}' been
the mother of
pioneer enter-
prises, but was
still a crowded
town, and Lon-
donderry, al-
though but fif-
ty years of age
and fully one
hundred miles
in area, was
brimful of
Scotch-Irish.

"Wild land"
was then of-
fered on ver>'
liberal terms, the consideration often
being a certain quantity of grain,
which was yet to be raised upon
it. The land of Francestown was
wild enough, being covered with for-
ests and with rocks, those ruthless
relics of the ice period, excepting the
beaver-cleared meadows ; but the
English were foresters by descent.

FRANCESTOWN.

Academy.

and to the Scotch cHffs and boulders
and granitic fragments were not for-
midable curiosities, and with sledge
and axe, crow-bar and firebrand,
they "cleared" a township. They
labored in harmony, and they organ-
ized in harmony. The}' had brains.
They meant right. Stubborn and
grimly opinionated, we are wont to
think them, but theirs was an exam-
ple of a sacrifice for the common

good, of race ideas and individual
and sectarian preferences, at which
modern advancement cannot scoff.

The eastern part of the town was
the finst to be settled. This was
known as the New Boston Addition,
being a second or additional grant to
the town of New Boston ; its western
line was but a short distance east-
ward of our present Mill Village.
The western section of Francestown

Library Hall.

Village Scnool-House.

was then a part of a large tract com-
prising what is now Greenfield, An-
trim, Bennington, and Hancock, as
well as western Francestown. It was
best known as Society Land, although
The Company Land and Cumberland
were names applied to it. It seems
for many j-ears to have escaped both
greed and grant.

In an old memorandum we read
that John Carson settled on Meadow
Point. No date is mentioned in this
abbreviated account of the first set-
tlement of Francestown, but Carson,
who was a Scotch highlander, is be-
lieved to have been here as early as
1756. Meadow Point, on which he
built his cabin, is the low but percep-
tible infringement of the .solid earth

FRANCESTOWN.

upon the meadow to eastward of the
school-house in the Quarry district.
The spot where the cabin stood is
marked by a depression, and many
dare to hope that a befitting mound
or monolith will some day do honor
to the spot where was built the first
white man's dwelling in Frances-
town; but, since no soldiers" monu-
ment graces the common, and the
old village cemetery has few of the
ideal essentials of hallowed ground,
the}^ wait.

John Carson endured much here
and also in Hillsborough, he being
one of the little compau}' who made
a beginning in that town long pre-
vious to the settlement on Meadow
Point. The old Starrett tavern, or

II I •■•«

Harvey N. Whiting.

Sleeper house, on the high land to
the westward, was in after time his
home. He was, doubtless, a very
useful man in the newly-settled coun-
try, since he was a mill-wright and
superintended the equipping of sev-
eral of the mills earliest erected here
as well as in Hillsborough. He died
in 1792, and his body was drawn
upon a large hand sled to the old
Smith burying-ground in New Bos-

Unitaria.i Church.

ton, where the body of his wife had
lain for nearh- twent}' years, the
burial party following with nuich
toil and difficulty the courses of the
streams, but neither mound nor stone
marks the spot where the first pio-
neer of Francestown lies buried.

John W. Carson, formerly of Mont
A'ernon, but now a resident of this
town, is a descendant of John C arson,
the settler.

Samuel Nichols, a Scotchman, a

George D. ^pps.

George K. Wood.

Dr. John P. Rand.

Dr. N. W. Rand.

Edwin D. Stevens, M. D.

A"**-

* .^ #^ '^

/■-

Col. Smith A. Whitfield. Capt. Horace E. Whitfield. Rev. Henry S. Ives.

Rev. W. F. Place.

:_,^^^j^m^:^

^^-

^^H

Thomas L. Bradford, M. D. Dea. Levi B. Bradford. Hon. Frederick A. Hodge. Hon. Geo.^W. Cummings.

li*"*!^.

Maj. Augustus H. Bixbyk Ernest P. Bixby, M. D.

Joseph S, B'xby.

Levi Bixby.

FRANCESTOWN.

frieud, perhaps a kinsman, of Carson,
was the second settler. He began
upon the George Lewis or McCaiue
place in 1760, the land being given
him by Carson. His son John was
the first white child born in Frances-
town. On the McCaine place is still
seen the great apple-tree set out by
Samuel Nichols, which measurement
shows to be more than sixteen feet in
circumference.

David and Isaac Lewis were doubt-
less the first settlers from Dedham.
They were brothers, and were enter-

Whiting, great-grandson of Zach-
ariah, is the last to perpetuate the
family name in Francestown.

The settlements thus far were in
the Addition, since it was a part of
an incorporated town, but about the
year 1768, William Butterfield, John
Dickej', Robert Hopkins, and Samuel
Mac Pherson, all Londonderr}- men,
and the Sleeper brothers, Benjamin
and Nathaniel, from Hawke, now
Danville, built cabin homes in the
Society Land part of future Fran-
cestown. Shortly after, William

Crotchet Mountain and Pleasant Pond.

prising men. A third brother, Asa,
came here a few j'ears later. David
Lewis built the first sawmill as well
as the first corn mill in town, thus
utilizing the water-power in Clark
village. The three brothers were
almost constantly in towm office.

Caleb Whiting, also from Dedham,
was living on the Whiting farm as
early as 1765. He died in this town
in 1770, his death being the first in
town, and his estate passed into the
hands of his brother Zachariah, in
1771, "& in the eleventh year of
his Majesty's Rein." Har\'ey N.

Starrett, a Scotch-Irishman, although
from Dedham, opened a tavern in the
Carson settlement.

The tax list of 1772 has a brave
showing of Scotch-Irish names, a
majority of the earliest of the settlers
being from Londonderry. The town
was incorporated in 1772, deriving
its name from Frances, wife of Gov-
ernor Wentworth, and that same
year voted to build a meeting-house.
The frame of this building was raised
in 1775, but it was not completed
until after the Revolution.

The ecclesiastical historv of the

FRANCES TOWN.

.M^,...-.„,„

Gate at Pleasant P'.>nd.

town begins even later, when the
Scotch Presbj^terians and Enghsh
Congregationahsts, both of whom had
held religious meetings, though with-
out a permanent pastor, succeeded in
settling Rev. Moses Bradford, in
1790. The meetings referred to were
held in dwellings, or more often in
barns, the women being seated upon
the hay, and the men struggling to
maintain a Christian frame of mind
upon plank seats and cross timbers.
Even the early churches were
places of great discomfort, the pews
being built for durabilit}', and stoves

(until 1 821) being considered verj'
dangerous innovations. The first
church stove in Francestown was
purchased b}' a few progressive
church-goers, who, upon their own
responsibility, placed it in the meet-
ing-house. It worked so well that
the opposition to it grew hot, and a
special town-meeting was called. In
the meantime, some pretty cold
weather, for which the stove party
had been praying, made the stove
popular. Its draft may not have
been perfect, but it drew votes,
although people were not allowed to
fill their foot-stoves from it.

We shiver at the thought of cur
fellow-creatures sitting for hours on
a New England winter's da}' in a
great, rudeh' finished building, with

Goss Hotel

no suggestions of heat save those de-
rived from certain doctrinal features
of the preacher's discourse. The
old "noon house" must have made
church-going more tolerable. This
was a small building which for years
stood a short distance to eastward of
the church. Since this house had a
large fireplace it must have been in-
deed a haven to those who repaired

FRANCESTOWN.

to it during the noon hour, and as an
intelligence office it was doubtless in-
dispensable. The people of Frances-
town were then church-respecting
people, the congregations and Sab-
bath schools being noticeably large.
In the decade following, the incor-
poration settlers came in little bands,
and communities were established
upon the hills of Francestown. The

rmum

Congregational Church.

Fishers from Dedham and Sharon
contributed materially to the popula-
tion. Dr. Thomas E. Fisher and
Deacon Moses B. Fisher are of those
old families. The four Bixby broth-
ers from Litchfield were an addition
from more than a numerical stand-
point. Several Patches from Beverly
settled here and in Greenfield. Of
this family we have Hiram Patch and
his sons, Edson H. and Charles A.
Patch, all of whom the town has
more than once intrusted with office.
John Knight and Benjamin Deane,
coming from Dedham, built on the
heights of Oak Hill, and Samuel
Barnet, still more aspiring, began the
Wilson place on the mountain. On
Driscoll hill, Israel Balch, from Bev-
erly, Mass., was the head of a nu-

merous family, of which Mason H.
Balch is a resident representative.
The Eatons, Bradfords, Batchelders,
Pettees, Fairbankses, and Fullers
scarred Bradford hill with their clear-
ings, and the Cochrans and Mana-
hans thrived upon their chosen eleva-
tions.

The population of Francestown in
1790 was 980, and the succeeding ten
years brought a large increase. The
Lords, Morses, and Follansbees were
here previous to that year, and not
long after, a colony from Pepperell, of
Nuttings, Kemps, and Shattucks, in-

Bixby Box bnop.

FRANCES TOWN

Clark Box Manufactory.

•creased the population of our uorth-
ern border. On Driscoll and Bullard
hills were pleasant hamlets, where
now is neither roof nor hearthstone.
In those years, to Driscoll hill
■came William Draper, known in the
traditions and literature of the town
as Lying Draper, from which one
may infer that he was a man unterri-
fied by the tragic episode of Ananias
and Sapphira ; but whatever he was
from an ethical standpoint, he was
certainl}- the author of many in-
genious and amusing fictions, some

Town Road Team.

of which are still in print, though not
credited to Lying Draper, who was
in most instances the envied hero of
his innocent fabrications. He it was
who raised a turnip so large that a
lost sheep wintered in it, having
eaten out the inside for phy.sical sus-
tainment. He at one time pursued a
fox, which, running around a small
elevation, by craft and celerity eluded
him, but which he finally killed by
bending his gun barrel and shooting
"'round the hill." It was either
Draper or Jesse Glover, a rival liar,
who, hearing one night a flock of
geese flying over his dwelling, seized
his gun and fired up the chimney,
with such timely precision that six of
the fowl came tumbling down the
chimne}' upon the embers of his ca-
pacious fireplace. He was known to
be inconsistent, since one of his
stories was that he was one day, with
others, haying on Driscoll hill, when
a wild deer came out of the wood-
land, and, being pursued b}- the hay-
makers, plunged into a snow bank,
and was captured. Of course snow
banks were never common features
of our landscape in haying time — but
genius hath its weakness.

It may be seen that nearly all of
the town offices are filled by members
of the old families of the town. John
M. Morse, chairman of the board of
selectmen, is of the fourth
generation from Captain
Timothy Morse. Levi M.
Bixby, third upon the board
of selectmen, is a descend-
ant of Lieut. Thomas Bix-
by. James T. Woodburj-,
town clerk, is of the Wood-
bury family. George E.
Downes. town treasurer, is
of the third generation from

FRANCES TOWN

Edward Downs, who settled
here in 1796. Edwin W. H.
Farnuni, of legislative hon-
ors, is a great-grandson of
Peter Farnnin, a settler and
a Revolutionary soldier. Pa-
cific L. Clark, postmaster, is
a grandson of Daniel Clark,
from whom Clark \'illage re-
ceived its name. Charles F.
Sleeper, our unflinching tax
collector, is a descendant of
Benjamin Sleeper. Martin
L- Colburn, second selectman,
is of the Colburn family of New Bos-
ton, and George H. Richardson, our
capable road agent, is also of recent
importation.

The merchants, too, are of the old
stock. Deacon Amasa Downes, pro-
prietor of one of the largest and best
of country stores, is a 3'ounger
brother of George E. Downes and of
Samuel D. Downes, so long and
prominently connected with the af-
fairs of the town. Charles B. Gale,
who maintains the reputation of the
Long store, is a grandson of Dr.
Thomas Eaton, in his day one of the
foremost men of the town, and one of
the few professional men capable of
farming extensively with profit.

The military history of Frances-
town, like that of mo.st New Hamp-
shire towns, is ver}- creditable. The
Revolution found her poor in purse
and }-oung in years ; but she met
the emergency of the times with
readiness and intelligent patriotism.
Nearly every able-bodied man in the
township was ready to march to the
scene of ho.stilities when the call to
Lexington reached southern New
Hampshire. Strong contingents of
F'rancestown men fought at Bunker
Hill and at Bennington, and, ere the

Francestown Soapstone Quarry.

war closed, 117 soldiers were credited
to Francestown, there being scarcely
a family in town without represen-
tation upon the Revolutionary rolls.
Thirty-one men from Francestown
were in the War of 181 2, and in the
War of the Rebellion 107 men were
sent to the army from this town.
Francestown long had a recognized
place in the militia, having for a
number of years one of the crack
companies of the state.

Wlill-dam at Lewis Mii:s.

FRANCES! OWN.

Among those who sen'ed in the
War of the Rebellion, we may men-
tion Col. Smith A. Whitfield, who,
after a remarkable military career,
was postmaster at Cincinnati, and
in Harrison's administration first
assistant postmaster general ; Major
Augustus H. Bixby, who has an
enviable record as a cavalry officer ;
Lieut. Daniel P. Bixby, also of the
cavalry ; Elias A. Brj-ant, who lost a
limb in the ser\-ice ; Serg. James H.
Person, killed at Petersburg; Serg.
Henry J. George; William R. Mar-

" Mid wars, and waves, and combats keen
That raged on land and sea."

The year 1800 saw the completion
of the second New Hampshire turn-
pike, which was built from Amherst
to Claremont, a distance of fift}- miles,
at a cost of $80,000. The intention
of the incorporated company which
planned its construction was that it
should be straight, and when one
follows its course to-day over some of
the steepest hills in southern New
Hampshire, he admires the fidelity of
the builders rather than the good

An Old-time View of the Village.

den, who died of disease ; Major
Horace E. Whitfield, brother of Col.
Smith A. Whitfield; Serg. Charles
F. Stevens, who died of disease ;
Charles F. Sleeper, severely wounded
at Petersburg; Jesse P. Woodbur\%
assistant paymaster in the navy ;
Addison S. Dodge, who died of dis-
ease; Orderly Serg. George N.
White, wounded at Middleboro'
Gap; Charles A. Barrett, who also
serv^ed in the Crimean War, and at
Balaklava saw the direful charge of
the "Noble Six Hundred," and
afterward witnessed the .storming of
the Redan and the Malakoff. He is
indeed, a man who has been

sense of the projectors of the thor-
oughfare, for, if a divergence was
made, it was surely in favor of some
soul-trying ascent, which now re-
minds us of the Latin quotation, Id
iter ad astra. (This is the way to
the stars. )

Still it was an improvement upon
the old town and county roads, even
from an engineer's .standpoint, and
afforded a means of commercial in-
tercourse second only to a waterway,
if not to the later-constructed rail-
way, and met with the general ap-
proval of the towns through which it
ran. There was, however, much
personal objection to it here, as well

r j^^^W

Clarence B. Roote.

"* f-^.-Jr

Sylvester H. Roper.

Edwin W. H. Farnur

George D. Epps.

*»
H

George F . Pettee.

George Kingsbury.

Charif s A. Vose.

Luke W. Preston.

Arthur G. Preston. Hon. George C. Preston. Daniel R. Henderson.

George R. Smith.

A. J. George.

Charles Patch.

Edson H. Patch.

fRANCESTO]]'N.

Pleasant Pond.

as in other towns, since it often cut
diagonally through the splendidly
cultivated five-acre and ten-acre lots,
which were then the pride of New
England farmers, and purposely
favoring no one, was in other ways
an injury to many.

Not a few of the objections to the
road were, however, as puerile as
were those published in England a
quarter of a century later, in opposi-
tion to George Stephenson's pro-
jected railroad from Eiverpool to
Manchester, when it
was prophesied in so-
ber print that it would
prevent cows grazing
and hens laying ; that
the poisoned air from
the locomotives would
kill birds as they flew
over them, while the
streaming flames and
showers of sparks
would cause a general
conflagration along the
route.

Here, as in England,
contractors were a n-
n o y e d by the mi s-

chievous and malicious,
for in instances the work
of a day was undone in
the ' ' peaceful hours of
night. ' ' One of the most
substantial of Frances-
town's citizens, whose
h o m e was h a r d 1 }- a
stone's cast from the
new thoroughfare, to
the end of his days, it
is said, .stubbornly re-
fused to travel upon it,
even to church, and
farms were sold and
homes secured in dis-
tant places, so objectionable was the
" turnpike road."

But the village, then only an
attenuated hamlet along the old
county road, began to grow. Two
years later, a new meeting-house
having a " Cubelo on its Bellcony "
was erected, and dwelling-houses
and stores multiplied, but the princi-
pal street, despite disadvantages of
location, followed the turnpike as it
extended northward.

A view of the village from the

Ephraim W. Colburn.

FRANCES TOWN.

.^^ so high
stranarer might con-

" Haunted Lake."

Woodbury hill is oue of looming-
gables and of ' ' wharfings ' '
and vast that a _ _

elude, as did the Hibernian regard-
ing the crag-surmounting castles of
feudalism, that they were built "to
puzzle posterity," when, in truth, the
two old highways were responsible
for the seemingl}^ erratic choice of
building sites.

The second New Hampshire turn-
pike, though not altogether well re-
ceived in the outset,
brought to Frances-
town singular pros-
perity for at least half
a century. The amount
of travel upon the new
road was remarkable .
Stage lines were estab-
lished ; taverns trebled
in number ; even an
extensive wholesale
mercantile business
was for years carried
on in this town.

At this day we have
but to mention the
names of the veteran

landlords, John Gibson
and Judge Parker, and
of the enterprising mer-
chants, Clark and Dodge,
to awaken many a dor-
mant memory in the
minds of the old-time res-
idents, and by their aid
and fancy's indulgence,
we may see placid old
Francestown a centre of
trade and a depot of
travel, her stores and
taverns blockaded by the
olden vehicles of traffic
and transportation, her
toll-gates open wide to
long lines of ponderous teams and
canvas-covered market wagons from
the northland, from either bank of
the Connecticut and from the slopes
of the Green Mountains, proces-
sions rivaling in extent and pictu-
resqueness the historic caravans of
the East. Whoever is called upon
to write of those old da\'s can but re-
gret that the din of the heavy wheels
of a now almost extinct commerce,
and the rhythmic rumble of brighth'-

Elm before the Residence of D Webster Duncklee

fRANCESTOU\Y.

Francestown Stage.

painted Concord coaches, the crack
of the hundred whips of nen-\' drivers
and hilarious teamsters were so soon
and so signall}- silenced by the
thunder of the steam cars and
the whistle of the earth-revolu-
tionizing locomotive.

About the time of the comple-
tion of the turnpike, the young
town was given anothei" impetus
in prosperous courses by the dis-
covery of a vein of soapstone of
unrivaled quality, and in extent
then unestimated. This mineral
( steatite ) is in composition
largely silica and magnesia ; it is
little affected by heat, is adhe-
sive, " cuts like cheese," and takes a
fine polish.

Old gazetteers credit Francestown
with two quarries of soapstone (would

that she had ten times that number ! ),
but she had then and has now only
one, the Fuller quarry, the stone of
which was doubtless discovered by
Daniel Fuller, the elder, although
John Carson, who first lived upon
the farm, is said to have made some
allusion to the softness and worthless-
ness of the stone thereon ; and Joseph
Guild, who, for a time, was a joint
owner of the land with Fuller, is
sometimes spoken of in connection
with the truly valuable find.

From antiquarians we lenrn that

Edson H. Patch.

Mt. Crotchet No. I.

the Indians utilized soapstone, nota-
bly in the making of kettles or boil-
ing pots ; but, there being no evi-
dence that they had a knowledge
of this particular deposit, the fame
of its discovery must remain with the
white man.

The allusion to another quany
may have had its origin in the fact
that Daniel Clark once owned and
worked a part of the vein discovered
l)y Mr. Fuller. The stone seems to
have made its own way in the estima-
tion of the mineralogist, as well as the
manufacturer, since it was quite early
said to be "the best known," "the
best in the world," etc. It was ex-
tensively u.sed for sizing rollers in

FRANCES TOWN.

Milton G. Starrett.

to negative ; but until the
X rays, or some stupendous
upheavals, have divulged
the earth's un fathomed
crust, who can gainsay it ?
The wild pasture land
south of the mountain has
long been regarded as a
possible bonanza of forth-
coming soapstone kings,
since there was found,
years ago, at the south-
ern base of that elevation
a considerable quantity of
the stone in a decayed
state, but evidently in grain and
composition identical with that of
the Fuller vein, and pros-
pectors, farmers, and fish-
ermen have from time to
time reported the finding
of pieces of true soapstone
on the slopes and in the
narrow valleys leading
thence southward, which
has naturally given rise to
the supposition that there
are prolific outcroppings
somewhere among the ledges of

Woodbury Homestead.

factories, and for stoves and hearths.
Its present uses are numerous, and
despite many nominally
rival quarries, the supe-
riority of the Francestown
stone is still unquestioned.

The teams that bore the
blocks of soapstone to Bos-
ton were made to do a
double duty, bringing back
at low rates, dry and West
India goods, Medford rum,
and peach brandy, and oth-
er essentials of old-time living, thus
enhancing the mercantile facilities of Crotchet, wliich, like Captain Kidd's
the town.

The value of the mineral
in the market, together with
the finding of goodly frag-
ments within the town's
boundaries, has given rise
to nuich conjecture and
some prospecting. Mr. Ful-
ler is said to have asserted
that in going from his
home to the village he rode
over soapstone of great
amount and value ; an as-
sertion that present geolo-
gical knowledge and the
drill of the quarryman seem starrett Homesiead.

Frank G. Clark.

Col. Hiram P. Clark.

Pacfic L. Clark.

Hon. Levi Woodbury.

'&■"

5>^

Charles F. Sleeper.

Maud H. Sleeper.

Annie M. Morse.

John M. Morse. :',JT3

Ephraim W. Colburn.

Martin L. Colburn.

Mrs. Hannah Fitts.

Dr. Franklin Fitts.

§^'-

George A. Duncklee.

Emma J. Duncklee.

Mrs. J. T. Bixby.

Emma Frances Bixby.

FRANCES TOWN.

lOI

treasures, are wailing to be found.
Perhaps the most romantic feature
in connection with the mountain's
hidden store was the finding, some
years since, of a veritable soapstone
door- rock, beside an old cellar hole
on Bullard Hill, a southeastern spur
of Crotchet. It was evidently hewn
with an axe, or some like implement,
and this, and the fact that the house,
the site of which is marked by the
cellar hole, was erected before the
opening of the Fuller quarry, are
sweet morsels to the speculative.
Although pick and powder were
used upon the partially decayed de-
posit before mentioned, nothing

Pacific L. Clark.

came of it, and even systematic bor-
ing in the vicinity divulged nothing
save a few pieces of very good soap-
stone deep in earth, the result of the
drift period ; the belief was at once
advanced that the fragments of stone
found here, as well as the much
talked of boulders in the southern
and southwestern parts of the town,
were borne from the Fuller vein by
glacial action, which is scientific
■enough, but not conclusive.

The Fuller quarry, almost a cen-
tury old, is now the property of a
company of which Gen. Charles Wil-
liams, of Manchester, is president.
Its pit is 140 feet in depth. The

Morse Homestead.

vast amount of stone excavated has
not been removed without hazard.
It was here that Frank Dumas, a
young Frenchman, w^as caught by a
sudden slide of the rock and borne
down and held beneath the water of
the pit for fully fifteen minutes, when
to the surprise of his rescuers, his
fellow- workmen, he w^as found to be
alive. He, however, in after time,
by an act of recklessness, lost a limb
near the scene of his former thrilling
experience. Here also Daniel R.
Henderson received the terrible in-
juries which caused the amputation
of his hands. Work is now con-
ducted under the supervision of Mr.
T. N. Wheelock, who is, perhaps,
without a rival in soapstone quar-
rying.

No other source of mineral wealth
has as yet been developed in Fran-

George A. Duncklee

I02

FRANCES TO WN.

Dr. George H. Bixby.

cestovvn. The old gazetteers, how-
ever, mention the graphite found
(but not in paying quantities) in
the northern part of the town. Ver}'
good specimens of this mineral are
readily procured on the farm of Wil-
liam Follansbee, where it was dis-
covered in considerable amount,
many years ago, and where it has
not yet been proved to be valueless.
Black tourmaline and hornblende are
found here and there in the town,
but the prospector and mineralogist
find little of value, interest, or beauty
even after long rambles with hammer
and chisel.

P'rancestown very early in her his-
tory led her sister towns in educa-
tional interests and enterprises. Here
again Scotch intelligence harmonized
with English sense ; for in spite of

the limited resources of those early
days, especially during the Revolu-
tion, the almost rigorous school laws
of the colonial period w'ere evidently
respected. Only six years after the
incorporation of the town, money was
raised by tax for school purposes, and
even earlier, in 1771, a private school
was taught in a house once occupied
by Andrew Dennison, near where is
now the residence of Edmund E-
Hill. At that time the heads of fam-
ilies were wont to give their children
much useful if not liberal instruction

01^^'

fa^d

Mrs T, E. Bixby.

Maj Augustus H, Bixby.

by the fireside, a practice- which the
present gilt-edged methods of teach-
ing do not in every way encourage.
The school of 1771 was doubtless
the first in town, but the first school-
house was not erected until eight or
ten years later, when a low, poorly-
finished structure was built a trifle
westward of the location of the pres-
ent academy building. In this was
taught, we do not know how many
years, the town school. In 1S06,
when the division of the township
into nine school districts was con-
summated, Francestown had 210
.school children. In 1S14, the winter
schools of the town boasted 450
pupils. Eater the town had twelve
districts, two of which were union

FRANCES TOWN.

lO-

districts, and this is nominally its
present number.

In the olden time the schools were
comparatively large. In one not
over-populous district, sixty scholars
attended during a winter term, twen-
t}' of the number being furnished by
two families. Great fellows long
past their minorit}' were enrolled
upon the registers of those daj's,
strong fellows, too, bucolic roughs
whose demands upon the teacher's
muscles exceeded that upon his brain
tissue ; but few traditions of reckless
and riotous insubordination in the
little crowded school-houses of Fran-
cestown have come down to us from
that period when an hour-glass and a
war club were quite proper educa-
tional symbols in rural New England.

Hiram Patch.

Among the early teachers of mvich
local celebrity was Ann Orr, whose
unique methods of discipline and
soul-sustaining tea-pot received copi-
ous notice in the histor}^ of the town.
Here, too, taught Clark Hopkins, the
"John ly." of the profession, sixty
years ago. He it was who once on
beginning a school of limited repute
(in an adjoining township) informed
the scholars that he had ordered
twenty coffins which he should pro-
ceed to fill from the ranks of the un-
ruly, which doubtless caused young

*~*" .-"> ,"
;--.>^-

John L. Shattuck.

teeth to chatter. For years man}- of
the older scholars were sent during
the winter term to the academy, the
town paying their tuition. This
method of sustaining the academy,
assisting worth}- pupils and relieving
the schools in which the scholars
were overnumerous, was regarded
with much favor.

In connection with schools and
school matters, the legacy of $i,ooo
given by Hon. L,evi Woodbury
should be mentioned. This fund
enables the school-board to expend
$50 annually for books to be given
as prizes to ambitious pupils. This
is a truly valuable incentive to the
children of the town, and in a ma-
jority of households the prize books
of the past are cherished and exhib-

Wilham A. Lord.

I04

FRANCES TO WN.

Elias A. Bryant.

Dora Sargent.

George Sargent.

ited with pleasurable pride. The
number of schools the present year
is six, the new system being fairly
popular. The school buildings now
in use are five in number. In the
old brick academy, which has of
late been much improved, some six-
ty pupils are accommodated. The
upper room, which is still academy
property and in which the grammar
school is taught, is, in its appoint-
ments, furnishings, and appliances
excelled by few country school-rooms,
the plank desks and benches hacked
by the jack-knife of a future presi-
dent having long ago succumbed to
modern ideas of comfort and taste.
From the windows of this room may
be obtained a view pleasing and in-
spiriting if not inspiring, which is
not always to be had even in the best

located school buildings of our own
New England. The lower room has
also been renovated of late. Here
the primary school is taught by Miss
Minnie M. Tobie, daughter of Daniel
B. Tobie, who, after years of ver}-
acceptable service in Massachusetts,

George G. Sargent

Jesse P Woodbury.

returned to bring the results of a
large experience to bear upon the
juveniles of her native town.

The extreme southeastern part of
the town was last year favored with
a new school building. Here Miss
Mary A. Pettee, daughter of George
F. Pettee, is fully sustaining the fam-
ily reputation in educational lines.

The brick school-house in No. 4 is
still in demand, the school there be-
ing under the progressive supervision
of Miss Carrie M. Downes, daughter
of Harlan P. Downes.

District No. 8 also retains the dig-

PRAXCESTOWN.

105

iiity of having a school, which has of
late been successfully taught by Miss
Mabelle A. Colburn, daughter of
Martin L. Colburn.

Number i, the mountain district,
is still No. I in much. Here Miss
Emma F. Bixb}', daughter of the late
Thomas E. Bixby, has just completed
her initial work — good work, too, —
as a public school teacher.

All of these teachers are residents
of Francestown and received their
education in her institutions of learn-

Old Noon House.

ing. The same may be said of the
members of the school-board. The
principal of the academy is also of
Francestowni, and a graduate of the
institution of which she is now the
head.

The present members of the school-
board are George K. Wood; Miss
Annie S. Clark, whose many j^ears of

Nathan Chandler.

teaching, literar}' tastes, and up-to-
date ideas give her recognized prom-
inence among our local educators ;
George R. Smith, who has served
with c~edit upon the board of select-
men, and has entered upon his second
term as a school official with unim-
paired popularity.

We find the name of George F.
Pettee in so many time-browned
registers and finger -soiled prize
books, that it seems necessary to
make some mention of him in our
sketch of schools and school-board.
Mr. Pettee 's reputation as a most
capable town officer, a dispenser of
good stories and genial jokes, maj'
be enduring, but as an incomparable
S. S. C. he will be longest remem-
bered. Not farther back in school
history than the fifties, the sworn
duty of many a committeeman was
to awe the teachers, depress the

vnw — r.

James T. Woodbury.

Mrs. James T. Woodbury.

Mrs. Jesse Woodbury.

Carrie M. Dowries.

Annie A. Downes.

^^S ^ ifllL

Harriet M. B.-yant.

Mary L. Bryant.

Minnie M. Tobie.

Jennie G. Dodge.

#/^W^

Elsie B. Downes.

Mary A. Pettee.

% A

"^W

Mabelle A. Colburn.

Annie S. Clark.

Maria A. Richardson.

Jennie E. Sha'.tuck.

Carrie M. Cochran.

Mary C. Willard.

Annie E. Hulme.
Susie H. Lorge.

J- A'. IXC ES TO WW

107

scholars, and reap a fair harv^est of
fright and demoralization. Mr. Pet-
tee, himself a teacher, and with much
of that good-will toward the young of
which so many stand in need, builded
better, and to him more than to any
other man should the profitable char-
acter of our schools for more than a
quarter of a century be credited.

We do not know just how" mau}^
hundred school teachers Francestown
has given to the world, but perhaps
the family of Harlan P. Downes may
be considered the banner family of
the town in recent j^ears, since seven
of Mr. Downes' s daughters have tri-
umphed in the calling. The por-

A. J George.

traits of three of the seven may be
seen upon our pages, Annie A.,
Carrie M., and Elsie B. The faces
of other popular teachers also appear.
The history of Francestown as an
educational centre dates back to
1 80 1, when Alexander Dustin, a
graduate of Dartmouth, taught, in
the town school building, a school of
advanced grade. The idea of main-
taining this school seems to have had
its birth in the school law of 17 19,
which compelled towns to have gram-
mar schools. This law was repealed
in 17S9, but left an aspiration for
higher educational privileges in
Francestown. Mr. Dustin, in spite
of verj^ scanty facilities, taught suc-

Sewell Brown.

cessfully for several years, reading
law the while with Hon. Samuel
Bell. He is known to ha\'e had
thirt}' scholars, one of whom was
Levi Woodbury.

The Francestown High school,
although it grew in favor, was sadl_\'
in want of a suitable building until
1819, when the "Old Brick Acad-
eui}^ " was completed, and the same
year, vSamuel Bell being governor,
and Titus Brown in the legislature,
an act incorporating ' ' The Patrons
and Proprietors of Francestown Acad-
emy," was passed almost without op-
position. The corporation organized
late in the year 18 19, choosing Peter
Woodbury, president; Titus Brown,
clerk ; Samuel Hodge, treasurer, and
after " much corrispondence and en-
(juiry," Mr. Sim Ingersoll Bard was
employed " to instruct the Academy,"
for six months. Mr. Bard proved
competent and was popular, and the

^^'

Hiram P. C.ark.

io8

FRAATESTOWN.

academj' leaped into prosperity with
eighty-four pupils, young Franklin
Pierce of Hillsborough being of the
number. During the succeeding
twent}^ 5'ears, the academy continued
to prosper, although it was for short
periods a school " for ladies only."

In 1 841 the little brick academy
was too small for the institution, and
the second story of the " old vestry "

Amasa Downes

George E. Downes.

was finished and furnished for its
use, the ancient building having
been moved from the north side of
the common to where the academy
now stands. It was burned in 1847,
and the present building was im-
mediately built by subscription,
"every man in Francestown," and
many women, contributing.

Four popular principals guided the
destinies of the school during the fif-

teen 5'ears succeeding the year 1841,
— Rev. Horace Herrick, Rev. Harry
Brickett, Mr. Henry E. Sawyer, and
Mr. Sylvanus Hayward. Under Mr.
Herrick the institution gained a new
lease of life, and during the seven
5'ears of Mr. Brickett's service en-
joyed a period of unparalleled nu-
merical prosperit}^ there being 136
pupils in a single term. Mr. Hay-
ward was also a popular teacher ;
many of his pupils were quite mature
in mind and years, and under him
the academy ranked high indeed.
He was succeeded by Dr. M. N.
Roote, a gentleman of genuine

Samuel D. Downes.

scholarship, and he in turn was
succeeded by Charles E. Milliken,
who taught during the year 1858.
Samuel B. Stewart was principal
during the spring and fall terms of
the following year, after which Dr.
Roote was again placed at the head
of the school, and so remained two
3'ears.

In 1862, Frank G. Clark took
charge of the academj^ and was its
principal five j-ears, his wife being
preceptress. At this time the future
of the institution was not promising.
For more than sixty years it had
been building principle, developing
intellect and stimulating intelligence

FRANCESTOWN.

109

in Francestown, but now its fortunes,
ever fluctuating, seemed in perma-
nent decline. Schools more favored,
locall}' and financially, were her
rivals, and young people for a con-
siderable attendance seemed want-
ing; but in the fall of 1862, Mr.
Clark took command "in person,"
and the following five 5'ears were
among the most profitable and the
most vigorously progressive in the
history of the old institution. The
school bell was heard afar off, and an
awakening to a consideration of edu-
cational possibilities became general
in all the neighboring towns. More

orator}' were of the heroic order.
Reports of battles, of victories and
reverses, of siege and surrender were
themes alwaj-s real, often exciting.
The relative abilit}" of commanders
and the advisability of movements
and marches and measures were sub-
jects of frequent and not always calm
discussions. Soldiers were going to
the front or returning on furlough ;

Harlan P. Downes.

than three hundred students were in
attendance during those five years,
there being more than 130 in a single
term.

Francestown was then full of
3'oung life. Scholars, "men and
women grown," walked — marched
in platoons through her streets.
They gave a zest, and spirit, and
fresh features of interest, to enter-
tainments, and pviblic meetings, and,
crowding the galleries of the old
meeting-house on the Sabbath, would
have been a source of inspiration to
any preacher.

Three of those five 3'ears were
3"ears of war. The literature and

'jmrnrnm

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.1/

I / •■■ ''

\ 7

\ 1

L^ '.m

1-4 1 \'<W^

■-cjikri '' 1^

^mx^fT'^

Hon Genrge W. Curmr.ingb

MM^T '

K %bL

B^a -jdj

afij

^^^LlJSo^'

^: '"

■1

N H Wood

military trappings and equipments
were common to the eye, and war
songs and martial music were in the
air, and the students caught the
spirit of the hour. The debates in
the crowded lyceums were often ani-
mated, and were generally more sul-
phurous than logical, and frequentlj^
people living in the neighborhood of
the academy, without effort, got the
benefit of the rhetoricals. On one

I lO

/•RAXCESTOW'X.

occasion, after a vigorous discussion,
"actual hostilities" on the common
were prevented by interference both
wholesome and ti^lel3^ The recon-
struction acts passed immediately
after the war also engendered strong
feeling, and were fruitful in callow
political effusions and semi-intellec-
tual " mix-ups," in the academy.

Through all, the school waned not,
but rather grew in numbers and
standing. The times seemed nat-
ural, as, of course, thej^ were, and
they gave opportunities for actual

Mrs. Emilie Henderson.

development, as well as displaj',
that in an era less rugged would
have been wanting. Rivalries were
for the most part generous and tran-
sient, and friendships were never
more firmly established. There was
withal a pleasurable interest, an
excitement in school-going to which
the surviving students of those five
years love to revert. Never has the
discipline and instruction in Fran-
cestown academy been better than
during those five years, and never
has the regard of students for teach-
ers been of a more appreciative and
enduring character.

During Mr. Clark's term of service
the academy received by endowment
more than four thousand dollars, and
its library was greatly enlarged.

Among the principals who have
since been successful, Mr. Henry S.
Cowell, a graduate of Bates, held
the most conspicuous place, since he
brought the .school into great promi-
nence, having, during his stay of
seven years (1876-1883), a very
large attendance. The students of
Mr. Cowell have held periodical re-
unions here, which are occasions of
enthusiastic enjoyment.

Charles S. Paige, a graduate of
Tufts college, and a student under
Mr. Cowell, was also a popular prin-
cipal. He is now master of the High
school in Bristol, Vt.

Of the hundreds who have gone
from Francestown with gratitude to
her institution, we can mention but a

Fred A. Prescott.

few. George H. White, for years a
professor in Oberlin, was a student
under Mr. Clark, as were the follow-
ing : Dr. Thomas ly. Bradford, prom-
inent among the phj'sicians of Phila-
delphia, and the compiler of the
"Homeopathic Bibliography of the
United States;" Clarence B. Roote,
a man of superior scholarship, now
principal of the High school in North-
ampton, Mass. ; A. J. George, A. M.,
who has become distinguished as a
teacher of English literature and an
editor of a goodly number of cele-
brated literary works ; in March last

FRANCES TOWN.

Ill

he delivered an address before the
Phi Beta Kappa societ)' of Yale, the
subject being "The Educational
Value of lyiterature ; " George C.
Preston, representative and state sen-
ator; and Frederick A. Hodge, who
has filled a seat in the state senate of
Minnesota. Among those who came
later are: Ernest P. Bixby, of the
medical profession ; Milton G. Star-
rett, who was graduated from Tufts
college, was a tutor in that institu-
tion, and has since, in Brooklyn and
New York cit}', taken high rank
as an electrical engineer; Dr. N.
Wheeler Rand, of Monson, Mass., and
his brother. Dr. John P. Rand, of
Worcester, Mass., both of whom
have attracted attention in the lit-
erary world. The brothers have re-
cently published a volume of ' ' Ran-
dom Rimes," which will be found to
abound in quaint and pleasing poems
of unquestioned merit.

The town librar}^, though not
founded by the fathers, has its place
side by side with the schools and
churches of the town. The origi-
nal library or nucleus, which later
assumed goodly proportions, had its
inception in the strong and intelli-
gent interest of a few right-minded
individuals in a rising generation.

The very beginning was made by
Miss Mary C. Willard, about the
year 1846, through whose efforts a
small literary club, later known as
"The Home Circle," was organ-
ized, the original members of which
were, — Miss Mary C. Willard, Mrs.
Samuel B. Hodge, Mr. and Mrs.
James T. Bixby, Mr. and Mrs.
Daniel McCaine, Mr. and Mrs.
Daniel P. Bixby.

At this time the cabinet shop of
Mr. Willard stood where is now the

library building. In this was the
post-office. Miss Willard being post-
mistress, and in this the first case of
books, purchased with the proceeds
of entertainments conducted by the
club and of the liberal contributions
of its members, was placed, and a
small circulating librar}^, of which
Miss Willard was librarian, was thus
established. The books selected
were of the best, and the library
grew in volumes and in favor.

In 1868 the new library building
was erected, and seven years later,
the library, under favorable stipula-
tions, became the town's property.

Perhaps we shall not find a better
place to mention that Miss Willard
has contributed many volumes to the
library, and in other lines shown her
interest in whatever is good and pro-
gressive. She it was who presented
to the district the large and beautiful
flag that floats from the staff of the
village school-house.

We shall be charged with an omis-
sion if we fail to speak of the Social
library, incorporated June 15, 1805,
which was said to be an excellent
librar3^ It was kept in the office of
Titus Brown, and was burned in the
great fire of '55.

The Francestown Savings bank is
the last of three kindred institutions
which have flourished in Frances-
town. Since 1851, the banking bus-
iness of the town has been consid-
erable. In 1863, the bank of 1851
was reorganized under the title of the
First National bank of Francestown.
It was a matter of much regret when,
in 1 89 1, it was voted " to discontinue
business." The Francestown Sav-
ings bank was chartered in 1868. It
cannot be said to have escaped the
financial depression of the times.

112

FRANCES TO WN.

Francestown has a Congregational
church, of which Rev. Henry S. Ives
is pastor; a Unitarian church, of
which Rev. W. F. Place is pastor; a
grange (Oak Hill grange), of which
Edson W. H. Farnum is master; a
Masonic lodge (Pacific Lodge, No.
45), of which George K. Wood is
master; a very efficient fire engine
company, of which Edson H. Patch
is foreman ; a good cornet band, led
by Bertram C. Epps ; and minor or-
ganizations.

Francestown village, with its tasty
residences, its broad street shaded b}^
immense maples, and its historic
landmarks, is a delight to all visitors.
Here is seen the Woodbury mansion,
occupied for nearlj^ a century by
members of the family, in which was
born Eevi Woodbury, whose reputa-
tion as governor of the state. United
States senator, secretary of the navy,
secretary of the treasury, and a judge
of the supreme court of the United
States, gives him a high place in our
nation's history. One may still see
the large, square front room in
which as a young lawyer he began a
career which doubtless would have
led to the presidential chair, had it
not been cut short by death.

Here, too, is the Esquire Brown
house, built in 1827, under the super-
vision of the wife of Hon. Titus
Brown, while that gentleman was in
congress.

It may here be said that at that
period Francestown had a remark-
able representation at Washington,
one of the six congressmen from New
Hampshire and both of her senators
being by birth or residence PVances-
town men.

Midway on the street is the late
home of Charles A. Vose, who sur-

vived the wreck of the large ocean
steamer Central America^ an extended
account of which is given in the
" History of Francestown."

Farther up the street, under the
maples, is the house in which Sylves-
ter H. Roper, one of the most cele-
brated of New Hampshire's inven-
tors was born, and across the way is
the fine residence of Ephraim W.
Colburn, prominent, who in a town
of different political complexion
would fill its highest ofhces.

Just above is the cottage so taste-
fully finished by Daniel R. Hender-
son, who was a most popular door-
keeper in the house of representatives
at Concord in '93 and '95, and was a
candidate for sergeant- at-arms in '97,
to which office he would most prob-
ably have been elected had he not
been stricken with disease which ter-
minated in death but a few da^^s pre-
vious to the assembling of the legis-
lature.

Near by is the handsome residence
of Hon. George W. Cummings. Al-
though extensively engaged in bus-
iness, Mr. Cummings has never re-
fused to devote his fine abilities to
the interests of town and state. He
has served one term in the house,
two in the senate, and is now a mem-
ber of the council. His political
future maj^ be said to depend largely
upon his aspirations.

The residence of Jesse P. Wood-
bury, formerly the Congregational
parsonage, has still an interest to old
residents of the town. Mr. Wood-
bury, its present owner, is a nephew
of Hon. Levi Woodbury, and b}^ pro-
fession a lawyer. We have pre-
viously mentioned that he was an
assistant paymaster in the navy dur-
ing the War of the Rebellion.

FRANCES TOWN.

113

The large brick house built b}'
Lawyer Haseltine is also a prominent
landmark. It is now the home of the
family of the late Thomas Pv. Bixby.

Every old town in New Hamp-
shire has its relics of past industries.
Francestown abounds in them. The
streams were of course larger than at
this day, but the apparent greed with
which even the small brooks were
"harnessed" for the inconsiderable
water-power within their channels
seems almost pathetic. In streams
that now after a few weeks of sum-
mer sunshine will not float a trout,
one will find remnants and ruins of
mill-dams and wheel-pits of timbers,
and of quaint mill furnishings, some
of which may represent industries
quite as old as the town.

Besides the inevitable sawmill were
the cabinet shop, the nail factor)^ the
fulling-mill, the grist-mill, the wheel-
wright shop, the box shop, the oil-
mill, and besides these a potash fac-
to r}^ an earthernware factory, and
tanneries almost beyond enumera-
tion. Indeed, it would seem that
there was a proud struggle to di-
vert Francestown from agricultural
courses and convert her into a manu-
facturing town.

It was natural that the south
branch of the Piscataquog should
have been selected by David Lewis,
and quite as natural that it should
prove the only stream of considerable
account. Mr. George G. Sargent
now operates a sawmill and grist-mill
where David Lewis began, and does
a large and profitable business. Mr.
Sargent is one of the most stirring
and prosperous of Francestown 's citi-
zens.

The Clark box manufactory is
owned by Hirani P. Clark and his

son, Charles H. Clark, who reallj'-
furnish the onl)^ goods manufactured
in Francestown. They are among
the stable men of the town, and,
although members of the party not
especially fortunate of late, have had
a surfeit of office. Hiram P. Clark
was chairman of the board of select-
men "in war time," when for a Dem-
ocrat to be elected in Francestown
meant much for the man.

Franklin B. Starrett and his son,
Willie C. Starrett, are Mr. Sargent's
chief rivals in the lumber trade, pos-
sessing as they do an adaptability for
every branch of their business.

George D. Epps, whose residence
and blacksmith shop are on the bor-
ders of Clark village, is well known
throughout the state. He has filled
many town offices, and three j^ears
ago was the Populist candidate for
governor.

George A. Duncklee, also of Clark
village, has dealt extensively in
cattle. He has been frequentl}^ in
town office, and has twice filled a
seat in the legislature.

'Twere long to tell of the scenerj'
of Francestown, although hills in.
ranges, and ridges in commanding
lines with the indolent Piscataquog
and its shallow, rapid tributaries be-
tween, would, if there were no ponds
and no mountains, supply the most
of it.

But, happily, there are ponds, yes,
and a mountain, and Pleasant pond
has its surrounding highlands, its
sandy beaches, its moraine-strewn
borders, with great Indian Rock
Jumbo of boulders near its busy out-
let, if it has np.t the gruesome tradi-
tions, the geological enigmas, and
the low-lying shores which charac-
terize popular little Scobj',

114

OUR NATIVE STATE.

But in Crotchet mountain the sons
of Francestown glory most. This
mountain, when seen from the north-
ern hills, is perhaps at its best, since
one there sees the entire northern
side of its curving ridge and twin
central peaks. Seen to southward,
its appearance is most inspiring,
standing, as it does, dark against the
sky, a single pinnacle at its western
terminus. A road has been built up
the northern side, so that one can
ascend without weariness and enjo}'
a view, in certain features said to be
unequaled in southern New Hamp-
shire.

Crotchet mountain has known
severe vicissitudes since the white
men came to settle upon its spurs

and slopes. In August, 1854, the
most extensive forest conflagration in
the history of the county swept over
its entire surface, leaving neither
trees nor herbage, and long it stood,
a massive, blackened monument to.
man's most useful and most destruc-
tive agent. Quimby makes the
height of this mountain 2,223 ft?etj
but later surveys have given to it an
altitude of 2,066 feet. We are satis-
fied with the results of either survey,
for we know that science has not
taken from its height one cubit, that
it is just as lofty and just as grand as
when, from the eastern highlands,
John Carson gazed upon it ere he
built his lonely cabin on Meadow
Point.

OUR NATIVE STATE.'

By Dr. J. F. Rand.

Sons and Daughters of New Hampshire,
We are gathered here to show
Homage to a common birthplace
And the days of long ago.
We were born where rugged mountains
In stupendous grandeur stand,
Taught the lessons of our childhood
From the book of Nature grand.
So to-night we wander backward,
Through the scenes of youth elate,
To repeat the matchless glories
Of the grand old Granite State.

Others may have greener pastures,
Broader wheat-fields, richer mines.
Valleys decked in orange blossoms.
Hillsides twined with budding vines;
For the pride of old New Hampshire,
And the products of her ground,
Are not corn and coal and cattle,
Which in every state abound,

' Read at the Decennial Reunion of the New Hauipshirc .Association, Worcester, Mass., Fel). 12, 1.S89.

OUR NAT/rE STATE. 115

But each rocky farm and hillside
Is producing o'er and o'er
Crops of noble men and women
Nothing less, and — little more !

So, if I should ask the question.

Which upon the streets is trite,

" What 's the matter with New Hampshire? "

You would tell me, " She 's all right."

And she is. From every quarter

Comes the proof of what I write —

From her narrow belt of ocean.

From her mountains capped in white,

From the sacred spot where Webster

First beheld the morning light,

Comes the answer, comes the echo,

" Old New Hampshire is all right."

Where are found such scenes of grandeur ?
Look upon Franconia's height;
See the "Old Man of the Mountains "
Standing there in silent might.
Minding not the heat of summer,
Caring not for winter's night —
Symbol of New Hampshire's greatness;
Yes, " New Hampshire is all right."

Glad am I of such a birthplace.
Proud am I of such a state,
Rome upon her hills of glory
Never w^as more truly great.
Never Roman more exultant
O'er the spot that gave him birth,
Than am I that in New Hampshire
First I saw the light of earth.
And each rolling year increases
M3- devotion to that land,
Tints the memories of childhood
With a beauty truly grand.
Till the halls of recollection
A full gallery appear,
And no picture there so precious
As thine own. New Hampshire dear.
O New Hampshire, we extol thee !
Grandest, noblest, dearest state ;
Well may all th}- children call thee
^ueeu among the thirty-eight !

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

By Adjutant Luther Tracy Townsend.

CHAPTER XIV.

THREE AFFAIRS OF INDEPENDENT AND IMPORTANT INTEREST.

/. " The Storming Column " or '^For-
lorn Hope. ' '

The day after the last assault on
Port Hudson, June 14, was a gloomy
one, and was passed by the troops in
burying such of their dead as had
been brought off the field, in caring
for the wounded, and in estimating
the various losses and casualties that
had befallen our army.

It was during that day, too, that
General Banks issued his famous or-
der, No. 49, calling for volunteers to
constitute a "Storming Column," or
"Forlorn Hope," as it was called.
Those volunteers were to assault Port
Hudson, as was expected, at the point
of the bayonet, and the place for this
attack was to be not far from the ex-
treme right of our army. The fol-
lowing was the order issued :

Hkadquarters Department of the Gulf.
Nineteenth Army Corps.
Before Port Hudson, La., June 15, 1863.
.General Order No. 49.

The Commanding General congratulates the
troops before Port Hudson, upon the steady ad-
vance made upon the enemy's works, and is
confident of an immediate and triumphant issue
of the contest. We are at all points upon the
threshold of his fortifications. One more ad-
vance, and they are ours.

For the last duty that victory imposes, the
Commanding General summons the bold men
of the Corps to the organization of a Storming
Column of a thousand men, to vindicate the

Flag of the Union and the memory of its de-
fenders who have fallen ! Let them come for-
ward !

Officers who lead the Column of Victory in
the last assault may be assured of a just recog-
nition of their services by promotion, and every
Officer and Soldier who shares its perils and its
glories shall receive a medal fit to commemo-
rate the first grand success of the campaign of
1863 for the freedom of the Mississippi. His
name shall be placed in General Orders on the
Roll of Honor.

Division Commanders will at once report the
names of the Officers and Men who may volun-
teer for this service, in order that the organiza-
tion of the Column may be completed without
delay.

By command of Major-General Banks.

Richard B. Irwin, Asst. Ajt. Gen.

Col. Henry W. Bridge was assigned
command of the ' ' Storming Column,"
having for his staff Capt. Duncan S.
Walker, assistant adjutant -general,
and Ivieut. Edmund H. Ru.ssell, of
the Ninth Pennsylvania Reserves,,
acting signal officer.

The hearts of some of the bravest
and most patriotic of our men were
moved, as might be expected, by the
reading of this order, but the hearts
of others equally brave and patriotic,
who had been taking into account
the entire situation of affairs, so far
as it could be taken into account by
them, were not moved. Indeed, the
order failed utterly to awaken any
enthusiasm in the hearts of the ma-
jority of the army. On the contrary,.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

117

it elicited much unfavorable com-
ment, and in some instances, severe
criticism.

Two months earlier, 5,000 men,
at least, would have volunteered un-
hesitatingly for that service. But
the outlook had changed. And who
will say there were not the best of
reasons for taking a different view of
affairs?

Certainly, from our present point of
view an attempt to carry out the
order of General Banks would have
been unwise and ev^en foolhard3^
Not one good reason can be ad-
vanced for supposing that the assault
contemplated by the " Forlorn Hope "
would have brought results different
from those that followed the attacks
of May 27 and of June 14. Our
ranks had been depleted, and our
men were more debilitated than they
were at those earlier dates. And
besides, we were feeling the discour-
agement and chagrin of a double
defeat.

And further, if that proposed as-
sault had been made and had resulted
disastrously, there is every likelihood
that Gardner would have been em-
boldened to attack us in front, while
lyOgan and possibly Green, after
crossing the river, would have made
an assault upon us in the rear. If
that had been done, the chances were
many fold that Gardner, as we have
suggested, would have dictated terms
of surrender to Banks instead of
Banks dictating them to Gardner.

We are fully aware of the fact that
efforts have been made to excuse the
two assaults that had been made and
the third one that was proposed, on
the ground that a large number of
the troops in the Nineteenth army
corps were nine-months' men whose

time of enlistment already had ex-
pired or was about to expire, and
that their withdrawal would so
weaken the army that the troops
remaining would be forced to raise
the siege and return to New Orleans.

But the great majority of those
nine-months' men never \vould have
left General Banks in such distress,
and he must have known it. There
were some of those men who without
complaint already had overserved
their time, and some of them, includ-
ing those of the Sixteenth, had signi-
fied their intention, without regard
to their term of enlistment, to remain
until the peril then threatening our
army was past.

We ought in all fairness to add
that doubtless the peril threatening
New Orleans, which was at that time
very great also, may have influenced
Banks in making the assault on Port
Hudson.

Under date of July 4, 1863, Gen-
eral Emory wrote thus to Banks :

" I respectfully suggest that, unless
Port Hudson be already taken, you
can save this city [New Orleans]
only by sending me reinforcements
immediately and at anj^ cost. It is
a choice between Port Hudson and
New Orleans."

But the risk of a third assault, we
insist, was too great, notwithstanding
the peril threatening both Port Hud-
son and New Orleans, for in case of
failure, the then existing perils would
have been multiplied many fold.

General Banks doubtless was grati-
fied that his appeal met a noble re-
sponse, nearly nine hundred men
immediately enlisting for the perilous
undertaking.

Soon after its enrolment, that vol-
unteer company "The Storming Co'-

ii8

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT

umn ' ' went into camp at the north of
Port Hudson.

June 13, General Banks, in expec-
tation that the assault was about to
be made, addressed in the following
words quite a company of the officers
and men of the " Storming Column,"
who had assembled for that purpose
near headquarters :

' ' Soldiers ! As I look in your
faces, I read suffering ; I see marks
of trial ; and yet I see determination
— patience ! No soldiers ever had a
nobler record than those who com-
pose the Army of the Gulf. Begin-
ning with nothing, it has created it-
self, until it is far superior in power
to any army of its size in the United
States.

' ' You have actually marched more
than five hundred miles, scattered
the enemy to the winds wherever you
have found him ; utterly destroyed
his army and navy, and now you
hold him captive for the last and
greatest triumph. Never were you
called to nobler duty than that now
resting upon you.

" Open the Mississippi river, give
joy to the country and receive shouts
of joy such as have never been borne
to any branch of the Union army,
and the reward God ever gives to
those who go forth to defend the
country's rights.

"A little more than a month ago,
you found the enemy in the open
country far away from these .scenes.
Now he is hemmed in and sur-
rounded. A few days ago we could
see neither bastion, parapet, nor cita-
del.

"Now all is changed! Our guns
range all over the works. We stand
here and look over at the enemy face
to face. It was when we were at a

distance, when we had to cover the
labyrinth of ravine, hill, and bayou,
that our brothers fell in large num-
bers.

"Our position is one now of per-
fect safety in contrast. Look about
you ; right, left, front, and rear, our
flag is on the threshold of his works.
What remains is, to close upon him,
and secure him within our grasp.
We want the close hug ! When you
get an enemy's head under your arm,
you can pound him at your will.
IvCt us go in then, and he can never
beat us back. The hug he will
never recover from until the Devil,
the arch rebel, gives him his own !

"All about me I see written deter-
mination, will, courage, that will con-
quer! And who doesn't know that
our cause is the best under the sun?

"Whenever the tidings of our
triumph goes forth, you will hear
a shout such as you never heard.
We hear that the rebel army is
moving North from Virginia, spread-
ing out into the borders of the states
beyond the Potomac. This will neces-
sarily depress those at home.

"But how will their hearts be
cheered, and how will they shower
their blessings upon you when they
hear the news of your triumph ! Your
names will be entered upon the ar-
chives of your country ; art will per-
petuate your struggles.

"This siege, the coming struggle,
and victory, all will be carried down
to posterity. Their pride will be
that their friends were present at the
conflict that results in the opening of
the Mississippi.

' ' You deserve rest ! You have
earned it ; but I must ask you with
power and force to finish the work
you commenced April first at Ber-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT

119

wick. Make a record for yourselves
and children, and then take the rest
j-ou have earned. I have come to
ask you to prepare j^ourself for the
last great struggle.

' ' Go forward with ordinary exhi-
bition of spirit and strength, and vic-
tory is yours. The eneni}- of your
countr}^ will be your captive. Your
flag will wave over the battlements
of Port Hudson. Open the Missis-
sippi river, and the rebellion is at an
end. Your fathers, mothers, sisters,
all will hail the news with delight
and bless you forever. You have
suffered deprivations, you have made
great sacrifices; but after it conies
glory, and after glory, rest! Buckle
on the armor then, make this one
more great exertion.

" I assure you, in the name of the
president of the United States, that
5"ou can confer a favor no greater
upon 5'our country than this ! No
appeal that I can make can express
the importance of this movement.
Give us one more effort, and we will
whip the enemy until desolation shall
leave him as naked as the vulgar
air."

In this address, as it must be con-
fessed. Banks, as the saying goes,
put his best foot forward, and made
out a case quite as .strong as the facts
would warrant; indeed, stronger in
some respects, as ever}^ soldier who
was there before Port Hudson and
w^ho had been a careful observer,
must have felt.

The fourth of July, 1863, was de-
cided upon for that final assault.
Accordingly, on July 3, Generals
Banks, Weitzel, Grover, Granger,
Emory, and several of their staff
ofl[icers, and the officers of many of
the regiments, visited the camp of

the "Forlorn Hope" and received
messages from the boys for the ' ' dear
ones at home." Good-b5's and fare-
wells were sorrowfully exchanged,
for no one could reasonably expect
that any of those volunteers, if the
attack were made, would escape
death, wounds, or Confederate pris-
ons.

General Banks on that occasion
addressed the volunteers, saying sug-
gestively among other things, that
when their ranks were broken they
would better go to their several tents,
write letters to their friends and
loved ones at home, and then rest
in preparation for the duties of the
morrow.

The assault was to be made at
daybreak, and they, poor men, were
promised that they ".should eat break-
fast inside the Rebel works."

The long roll was sounded at half
past two in the morning, and each
member of the "Storming Column "
silently took his place in the line,
ready to meet the blood}' fate that
surety awaited him if the attack were
made.

General Banks and staff soon after
appeared. He rode down the line
and back, then to a point near the
centre, where he halted. Hat in
hand, he then saluted the men. He
next deliberatel)^ drew from his breast
pocket a despatch from General Grant
announcing the fall of \'icksburg,
and in a most impressive manner
read it to the troops.

General Banks then said to the
volunteers that in view of the fall
of Vicksburg, the contemplated as-
sault would be postponed until fur-
ther orders. Fortunate providence !
We had been spared another sacrifice.

The men retired again to their

I20

COURAGE.

tents. Many of them having passed of General Banks. There was no

a wakeful night, quickly fell asleep, lack of courage, but many of our

and dreamed, and woke not to the men believed there would be simply

horrid din and roar of battle and another waste of life with nothing

scenes of carnage, but to honorable gained by the assault. If ordered to

mention, which they certainly de- make an attack, our troops would

served. have obe5'ed, but thej' did not care

When at length the " Forlorn Hope " to volunteer in what seemed to them
had the merited honor of leading the to be a hopeless and useless under-
other troops as they entered Port taking.

Hudson to take possession after its As everybody who knew anything

surrender, no one was inclined to of the department of the gulf will

raise an objection. acknowledge, no more courageous

The Sixteenth regiment contrib- men ever stood in the ranks of an

uted to the ' ' Forlorn Hope ' ' the army than those who composed the

following officers and men : Com- Eighth New Hampshire and the

pany A, Corporal Daniel C. Dacey ; Fourth Wisconsin regiments. Yet

Company B, Private Edward J. only three men from the former and

Wiley; Company C, Lieutenant only one from the latter regiment,

Edward J. O'Donnell, Corporal Clin- volunteered in that last proposed ven-

ton Bohannon, and Private Asa Bur- ture against Port Hudson,
gess. Company F, Eieutenant Edgar We may add that the months and

E. Adams; Company H, Captain years of delay in giving to those

John L. Rice ; Company K, Corporal brave and patriotic volunteers the

William A. Rand and Private Rufus memorial that was promised at the

E. Jones. The name of Corporal time, is a well-nigh unpardonable

Rand appears first on that roll. neglect on the part of the United

While according all praise to those States government. What duty is
brave men of our own regiment, and more imperative than for a govern-
to their comrades from other regi- ment to fulfil its pledges to those
ments, we cast no reflections upon who offered themselves in sacrifice to
th'^se who declined to answer the call preserve the Union ?

Note. — The author desires suggestions or corrections from any comrade of the Sixteenth or any other regiment.

[7i) be continued.^

COURAGE.

By Geon^e Bancroft Griffith.

The bright clouds bring no rain, —

Ah ! When 't is dark the vStars shine out;

So, dear friend, why complain ?

Why harbor grief or doubt ?

Despair not in the darkest hour;

God to be God must speak with power.

Conducted by Fred Gowhtg, State Superintendent of Public Instruction.

MY PEDAGOGICAL CREED/

By IV . T. Harris, U. S. Coiiunissioner of Education.

Having been asked to write a brief
statement of my educational creed, I
set down what I consider to be impor-
tant principles, without, however, taking
the pains to arrange them in any sys-
tematic order. Many years ago, on be-
ing asked for a definition of education,
I described it as the process by which
the individual is elevated into the
species, and explained this brief and
technical definition by saying that edu-
cation gives the individual the wisdom
derived from the experience of the race.
It teaches him how his species, that is
to say, mankind in general, has learned
what nature is and what are its proc-
esses and laws, and by what means
nature may be made useful to man.
This lesson of experience is the con-
quest of nature.

The second and more important les-
son is, however, derived from the expe-
rience of human nature — the manners
and customs of men, the motives which
govern human action and especially the
evolution or development of human in-
stitutions, that is to say, the combina-

1 Reprinted from The School

tions of individuals into social wholes.
By these combinations the individual
man is enabled to exist in two forms.
First, there is his personal might, and
second, there is the reinforcement which
comes to him as an individual through
the social unit, the family, civil society,,
the state, the church. The individuals
endow the social unit in which they live
with their own strength, and hence the
strength of the whole institution is far
greater than that of any individual. In
fact, the combined strength is greater
than the aggregate of the individual
strengths which compose it. Ten Rob-
inson Crusoes acting in conjunction are
equal not only to ten individual Cru-
soes, but to ten times ten.

It follows from this view of education
(as a means of fitting man, the individ-
ual, to avail himself of the knowledge of
his species or race obtained through two
kinds of experience) that I must set a
very high value on the accumulated
wisdom of the race. I must think that
the man as an uneducated individual is
infinitely below man as an educated in-

Journal oi June 26, 1S97.

122

ED UCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

dividual. I must think, too, that a sys-
tem which proposed to let the individ-
ual work out his education entirely by
himself — Kaspar Hauser style — is the
greatest possible mistake. Rousseau's
doctrine of a return to nature must also
seem to me the greatest heresy in edu-
cational doctrine. But with this educa-
tional principle so far as stated above,
one does not have any protection against
a wrong tendency in method which may
be justified on the ground that the con-
tribution of the social whole is the es-
sential thing, and the contribution of
the individual the unessential thing.
Keeping in view that essential thing,
educational method is prone to neglect
too much the individual peculiarities,
and above all to undervalue the self-
activity of the pupil in gaining knowl-
edge. It does not consult the likes and
■dislikes of the pupil, and cares little or
nothing for his interest in his studies.
It is content if it secures the substantial
thing, namely, that the individual should
learn the wisdom of the race and the
lesson of subordinating himself to the
manners and customs of his fellow-men.
It is content if it makes him obedient.
He must obey not only the laws of the
state but the conventional rules of eti-
quette. Above all, he must obey his
parents, his teacher, and his elders.
This requirement of obedience carried
out to the extent demanded in China,
and to a less degree in monarchical
countries of Europe, and in this country
until very recently, is based on a too
exclusive contemplation of the social
ideal as the chief object of education,
and I hasten to add the statements
needed to correct its incompleteness.

DEVELOPMENT ACCORDING TO SELF-
ACTIVITY.

II. All education is based on the

principle of self-activity. The individ-
ual to be educated has the potentiality
of perfection in various degrees, and
can attain this by his self-activity. A
material body or a mechanical aggregate
of any kind can be modeled or formed
or modified externally into some desira-
ble shape. But this external molding
is not education. Education implies,
as an essential condition, the activity of
a self. It follows from this that while
the end of education must be the eleva-
tion of the individual into the species,
that this can only happen through the
self-activity of the individual.

I saw this principle clearly before I
saw the entire principle to which it is a
part, namely the relation of the individ-
ual to society. I can readily sym-
pathize with scores of my friends and
companions in education who see this
principle of self-activity, but have not
yet arrived at the insight into that func-
tion of self-activity of the individual
which is to so act that it may reinforce
itself by the self-activity of institutions
or social wholes.

Following this necessity of the indi-
vidual I believe that the greatest care
should be taken not to arrest the devel-
opment according to self-activity. Any
harsh, mechanical training will tend to
arrest development of the child. There
is for human beings, as contrasted with
lower animals, a long period of helpless
infancy. This long period is required
for the development of man's adapta-
tions to the spiritual environment im-
plied in the habits, modes of behavior,
and the arts of the social community
into which man is born. Professor John
Fiske has shown the importance of this
fact to the theory of evolution as ap-
plied to man. It is the most important
contribution which that doctrine has
made to pedagogy. If the child is at

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT. 123

any epoch of his long period of help- or self-determined. It is, therefore, self-
lessness inured to any habit or fixed conscious being and is above intellect
form of activity belonging to a lower and will. Inasmuch as intellect is in its
stage of development, the tendency will essential nature altruistic, or that which
be to arrest growth at that standpoint makes itself its own object and gives
and to make it difficult or next to im- objective being to others, it follows that
possible to continue the growth of the its view of the world sees the necessity
child into higher and more civilized of presupposing a divine reason as the
forms of soul-activity. Any over-culti- absolute which creates in order that it
vation of sense perception in tender may share its being with others in its
years, any severe and long-continued own image.

stress upon the exercises of the mem- According to my thinking, the most
ory will prevent the rise of the soul into important end of education is to take
spiritual insight. I therefore distrust the pupil safely through the world-
many of the devices invented by teach- theories of the first and second stages,
ers of great will power to secure thor- namely, sense perception and the rela-
oughness of learning the studies in the tivity doctrine of pantheism up to the
primary school, insight into the personal nature of the

absolute. All parts and pieces of

THREE STAGES OF THINKING. 11, • , ' ,, ,

school education and all other educa-

III. My doctrine of rational psychol- tion should have in view this develop-

ogy holds that there are three stages of ment of the intellect,
the development of the thinking power.

^ . ^ ^ INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY AND THE

The first stage is that of sense percep-

^ . , . i- i- MORAL %VILL.

tion, and its form of thinking conceives

all objects as having independent being IV. Corresponding to this elevation

and as existing apart from all relation of the intellect up to the point where it

to other objects. It would set up an sees true being to be self-active is the

atomic theory of the universe if it were doctrine of the moral will which should

questioned closely. be reached by the method of discipline

The second stage of knowing is that adopted by the school. Intellectual in-

which sees everything as depending sight is the highest result of the theoret-

upon the environment. Everything is ical training, and a moral will is the

relative and cannot exist apart from its highest result of the practical side of

relations to other things. The theory school education. The kindergarten

of the universe from this stage of think- work treats with the requisite degree of

ing is pantheistic. There is one abso- tenderness the early manifestations of

lute unity of all things. It alone is in- will power in the child. It gradually

dependent and all the others are de- develops in his mind the necessity of

pendent. They are phenomenal and it self-restraint for the sake of cooperation

is the absolute. Pantheism conceives with his fellow-pupils. He must in-

the universe as one vast sea of being in hibit or hold back his tendency to act

which the particular waves lose their without respect to the requirements of

individuality after a brief manifestation, the work of the kindergarten. There

The third stage of thinking arrives at develops in the child the power of self-

the insight that true being is self-active control for rational ends.

124 EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

The discipline of the elementary pulses and forces by lending them its

school builds up in a very powerful efforts.
manner the sense of individual respon-

., ... „ , , ., 1 r 1 1.1 • ADJUSTMENT OF INDIVIDUAL TO SO-

sibility. Each child feels that he is re-
sponsible not only for what he does in-
tentionally, but what he neglects to do V. School education and all educa-
in the way of performing school duties, tion is a delicate matter of adjustment,
This is the most powerful influence inasmuch as it deals with two factors,
which a well-disciplined school exer- spontaneity and prescription. The
cises towards the production of charac- latter tends to determine the whole in-
ter. The child subdues his likes and dividual by the requirements of the
dislikes, adopts habits of regularity, social whole. The former tends to
punctuality, silence, and industry. His make the child a bundle of caprice and
industry takes the form of two kinds of arbitrariness by giving full course to his
attention, first, the critical attention to spontaneity or self-activity. The con-
the work of the class and the criticisms crete rule of pedagogy is to keep in
of the teacher, and second, to the mas- view both sides, and to encourage the
tery of his own set task by his unaided child to self-activity only " in so far " as
labor. the same is rational, that is to say, in so
Every self-active being is a will in so far as his self-activity enables him to re-
far as it lifts itself out of the chain of inforce himself w^th the self-activity of
causation, in which it finds itself in the social whole, qf, to put it in another
nature, and acts in such a way as to way, it enforces prescription upon the
modify this chain of action in accor- child only in so far as the same is
dance with its inclinations or ideas. It healthful for the development of his
can originate modifications in the chain self-activity. Every pedagogical method
of causality and thus become responsi- must, therefore, be looked at from two
ble for the series of effects which flow points of view, first, its capacity to
from his action. It becomes a moral secure the development of rationality or
will when it is conscious of this power of the true adjustment of the individual
of origination ; it knows itself responsi- to the social whole, and secondly, its
ble. Immersed in mere feeling, in capacity to strengthen the individuality
mere likes and dislikes, interests and of the pupil and avoid the danger of
antipathies, it is not a moral will, al- obliterating the personality of the child
though it originates new causal series in by securing blind obedience in place of
the world. But it becomes conscious of intelligent cooperation, and by mechan-
its responsibilities when it observes in ical memorizing in place of rational in-
itself the power to inhibit or hold back sight.

the chain of causality in which it finds I believe that the school does pro-

itself, and resist its inclinations and the gress and will progress in this matter of

force of its habits. It can absolutely adjusting these two sides. But I find

refuse to act, and this demonstrates its and expect to find constantly on the

absolute freedom. Freedom does not road to progress new theories offered,

mean the power to do everything, for which are more or less neglectful of the

that is omnipotence. It means the delicate adjustment between these two

power to refuse to transmit external im- factors of education.

ED UCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

125

PROGRESS TOWARDS FREEDOM.

VI. I believe that the school as it is
and as it has been, is and has been a
great instrumentality to lift all classes
of people into a participation in civi-
lized life. I believe that the world pro-
gresses and has progressed towards
freedom. In this respect I think that
every form of civilization that has pre-
vailed in the world has some important
light to throw upon the questions of
pedagogy. On the whole, our new and
newest education is better able to help
children whose souls are imprisoned in
their bodies and who are dull and stu-
pid. The education of to-day knows
better than the education of yesterday
how to arouse such children by the ap-
plication of devices that stimulate their
interests and self-activity. It knows,
too, better how to hold back the child
who is filled with selfishness and teach
him to subordinate his self-seeking to
the interest of the social whole. More
than the child of Europe, Asia, or
Africa, the American child is precocious
in will power. In improperly conducted
kindergartens one sees very often two
or three bright children monopolize the
attention not only of all the other small
children but also of the teacher. Such
child gardens remind us of kitchen gar-
dens choked with weeds.

THE FIELD OF CHILD- STUDY.

VII. Finally, a word in my creed re-
garding child-study. I have hoped and
still hope from the child-study move-
ment a thorough investigation of the
question of arrested developn>ent. In
view of what I have said above regard-
ing the long period of helpless infancy
and of the importance of keeping the
child open to educative influences as
long as possible, it becomes necessary
to ascertain the effect of every sort of

training or method of instruction upon
the further growth of the child. For
instance, do methods of teaching arith-
metic by the use of blocks, objects, and
other illustrative material, advance the
child or retard him in his ability to mas-
ter the higher branches of mathematics ?
What effect upon the pupil's ability to
understand motives and actions in his-
tory does great thoroughness in arith-
metical instruction have; for instance,
does it make any difference whether
there is only one lesson in arithmetic a
day or one each in written arithmetic
and in mental arithmetic } Does a care-
ful training in discriminating fine shades
of color and in naming them, continued
for twenty weeks to half a year in the
primary school, permanently set the
mind of the pupil towards the mis-
chievous habit of observing tints of
color to such an extent as to make the
mind oblivious of differences in form or
shape and especially inattentive to rela-
tions which arise from the interaction of
one object upon another.' Questions of
this kind are endless in number, and
they relate directly to the formation of
the course of study and the school pro-
gramme. They cannot be settled by
rational or a priori psychology, but only
by careful experimental study. In the
settlement of these questions one would
expect great assistance from the labora-
tories of physiological psychology.

Notwithstanding my firm faith in the
efficiency of the school to help the child
enter upon the fruits of civilization, I
am possessed with the belief that to the
school is due very much arrested devel-
opment. Not very much success in
this line can be expected, however, from
those enthusiasts in child-study who do
not as yet know the alphabet of rational
psychology. Those who cannot dis-
criminate the three kinds of thinkins:

126

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

are not likely to recognize them in their
study of children. Those who have no
idea of arrested development will not
be likely to undertake the careful and
delicate observations which explain why
certain children stop growing at various
points in different studies and require
patient and persevering effort on the
part of the teacher to help them over
their mental difficulties. The neglected
child who lives the life of a street Arab

has become cunning and self-helpful,
but at the expense of growth in intellect
and morals. Child-study should take
up his case and make a thorough inven-
tory of his capacities and limitations,
and learn the processes by which these
have developed. Child-study in this
way will furnish us more valuable in-
formation for the conduct of our schools
than any other fields of investigation
have yet done,

DR. GEORGE F. FRENCH.

Dr. George F. French, who died July 15 in Minneapolis, was born in Dover,
October 30, 1837. Upon graduation from Harvard Medical school, he entered
the United States army, it being then in the early part of the Civil War. He went
to Alexandria, Va., where he was made assistant surgeon and placed on the per-
sonal staff of Gen. U. S. Grant at Vicksburg. Later he was attached to General
Sherman's command, and placed in charge of organizing field hospitals, ^^'hen
Sherman took his memorable " March to the Sea," Dr. French was with him as
surgeon-in-chief to the First Division, Fifteenth Army Corps. He resigned from
the army in June, 1865, and was breveted lieutenant-colonel one month later, and
entered upon the practice of his profession at Portland, Me. In 1875, he was
appointed instructor of physiology and lecturer in dermatology in the Portland
Medical school. He was one of the original staff of the Maine General Hospital.
He removed to Minneapolis in 1879. In 1886 he became professor of gynae-
cology in the Minneapolis Hospital College. He was appointed president of the
State Examination Board in 1887, and in 1890 he was president of the Minnesota
Academy of Medicine.

BENJAMIN F. QUINBY.

Benjamin F. Quinby died suddenly at Goshen, Ind., July 17. He was born in
Concord, and was educated in the old celebrated academy at that place. He
was 62 years old. Mr. Quinby went to Chicago in 1853, and for several years
was engaged in the real estate business. For the past twenty years he had been
connected with Fuller, Fuller &: Co. Before going to Chicago, Mr. Quinby en-
gaged in the wholesale grocery business, and then went to Philadelphia, where he
remained some years. He was very active in scientific matters, and was one of
the oldest and most active members, and at one time president, of the Illinois
State Microscopical society of Chicago. He was also a member of the Academy
of Science of Philadelphia, and also of the Royal Microscopical society of London.

W
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O
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The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXHI.

SEPTEMBER. 1897.

No. 3,

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

By John C. Linehan.

HAT this is au age of
societies, colonial, revo-
lutionary, racial, and
otherwise, goes without
saying, and the very
newest in existence is the one made
the subject of this article. It was
organized in Boston, in the historic
banqueting room of the Revere
House, on the evening of Januar}- 20.
1897. The object of the formation of
the society is well put in its constitu-
tion. " Believing that the part taken
in the settlement, foundation, and
up-building of these United States,
by the Irish race, has never received
proper recognition from historians ;
and inspired by love for the repub-
lic, a pride in our blood and fore-
fathers, and a desire for historic
truth, this society has met and or-
ganized.

Its mission is to give a plain recital
of facts, to correct errors, to supply
omissions, to allay pa.ssions, to
shame prejudice, and to labor for
right and truth. While we, as loyal
citizens of this republic, are earnestly

interested in all the various phases of
its history, we feel that we should be
false to its honor and greatness, and
recreant to our own blood, if we did
not make a serious effort to leave to
those generations w'hich will follow
us, a clearer and better knowledge of
the important work done by men and
women of the Irish race on this con-
tinent. People of this race born on
Irish soil, have been here from the
first, prompted in their flight by the
motives common to all emigration,
dissatisfaction with the old order of
things, and the resolve to obtain a
freer and better life in the new land,
under new conditions.

And so we have come together —
natives of Ireland, American sous
of Irish immigrants, and descend-
ants of immigrants, even unto the
seventh, eighth, and ninth American
generations — to duly set forth and
perpetuate a knowledge of these
things. In the days to come that lie
in the womb of the future, when all
the various elements that have gone,
and are going, to make the republic

128

THE AMERICAX-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIRIY

great, are united in the American —
the man wlio in his person will repre-
sent the old races of earth — we desire
that the deeds and accomplishments
of our element shall be written in the
book of the new race ; telling what
we did, and no more ; giving us our
rightful place by the side of the
others. To accomplish this is the

Rear-Admiral Richard Worsam Meade, U. S N.

First President of the Anierican-Irisli Historical
Societj-.

purpose of this our organization ; it is
a work worth}- of the sympathy and
aid of every American who can rise
above the environment of to-day and
look into the broad future. Fidelity,
truth, honor, are the watchwords of
such a purpose, and under their
noble influence should our work be
done." This is a broad platform,
and its unanimous adoption is an

index of the course that will be fol-
lowed.

There will be no antagonism of the
other races that are blended in the
American of to-day, but there wnll be
an earnest effort to have placed on
record the part taken in the estab-
lishment of this nation by natives of
Ireland and their descendants. From
the earliest period, so far as there is
any record, coloni.sts and immigrants
to Ireland, as well as their descend-
ants, whether Scandinavians, vSaxou,
Norman, or otherwise, became in
time "more Irish than the Irish
themselves," just as their descend-
ants here, from the very first, have
been American of the Americans.
The}', as well as the descendants of
the Gaels, loved Ireland, and that
love found expression in the names
of the towns founded by them, in
this, as well as in the other states of
the Union.

They loved each other, and their
friendship shaped itself in the forma-
tion of societies bearing names pecu-
liar to the land of their "birth, which
they organized in communities w^hose
residents differed from them in blood.
The historian of Antrim wrote that
when Rev. Mr. McGregor and his as-
sociates came to Nutfield, there were
many more of the same race and faith
remaining in Boston. There they
built their first church in 1730. It
was known for years as the Irish
Presbyterian church. The historian
mentioned said that its first pastor
was the Rev. John Moorhead, but he
did not mention this fact, ^•iz.: that in
1737 these same people, all bearing
names of the same character, and
nearly all of the same creed as the
first settlers of Nutfield, met on
March 17, vSt. Patrick's Day, and

THE AMERICA X-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

129

celebrated Ireland's national holiday
by organizing a benevolent associa-
tion called "The Irish vSociet5^"

None but Irishmen and the sons of
Irishmen, or their descendants, were
eligible to membership. Among the
charter members were the father and
uncle of Gen. Henry Knox. The
General and his son were members
and did not sever their connection
with the society when the General
removed to Maine. The Rev. John
]Moorhead was one of the first to join
it after its formation, and for a hun-
dred years after, it bore on its roll the
names of the leading Irishmen and
their descendants resident in Boston.
The seal of the society bore the arms
of Ireland.

Its annual anniversary has always
been held on St. Patrick's Day, and
for over a century a Catholic and a
Protestant clergyman, representing
the two creeds of the Irish people,
have been present as guests of the
society. James Boyd was its presi-
dent in 1837, and delivered the cen-
tennial address on the occasion of its
one hundredth anniversary. He was
a Presbyterian. In his address he
alluded to the sentiment, which was
then finding expression among some
of the descendants of the founders of
the societ)\ that their ancestors,
although born in Ireland, were not
Irish ; but for himself, and for the
societ}', he repudiated such state-
ments. The founders of the society
were Irish, and it was a vain effort to
rob them of their nationality. He
was Irish, as they were; and he was
speaking on their behalf, as well as
on his own. The spirit of this good
man was transmitted to his son.
Eighteen years later, in 1855, the
first and only Know Nothing gov-

ernor of Massachusetts, disbanded
four companies of the state militia,
composed of men of Irish birth or
parentage, on the ground that they
could not be trusted with arms, on
account of their nationality. Col.
John C. Boyd, son of the ex-pres-
ident of the Iri.sh Society, was a
member of the governor's staff. He
was a prominent merchant, and was

Hon. Edward A Mosely.

Secretary Interstate Commerce Commission.
President-General, Washington, D. C.

well known in business and social
circles.

On the day following the publica-
tion of the order disbanding the com-
panies, he sent a letter to the gover-
nor, resigning his position, for the
reason that being of the satne nation-
ality, he, too, was uuworth}- of the
place to which he was appointed.
The governor promptly replied, in-
forming him that his order was aimed
onlv at those Irish who were of the

I30

THE A MERICAX-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

Catholic faith, and uot at men hke
him who were Protestants. Colonel
Bo5^d published the governor's letter,
and his own reph', which insisted on
the acceptance of his resignation, as
he considered he was as Irish as
those w4io were Catholics, and re-
sented the insult to his nationality.

When the Civil War broke out.
Governor Gardner not only failed to
respond to the call for troops, but
allied himself with the party which
was opposed to its prosecution. The
men whom he had driven out of the
state militia were among the first to
enroll themselves in the ranks of the
Irish Ninth Massachusetts, one of

Thomas Hamilton Murray.

Editor of the Trihtinc, P;iwtucket, R. I. Sec-
retary-Cieneral.

the first three j-ears' regiments,
w^hich was led to the front by the
gallant Colonel Cass, who com-
manded one of the disbanded com-
])anies, and who sealed his loyalty to
his adopted country with his life's

blood at Malvern Hill in June,
1862.

When President Andrew Jackson
visited Boston, the Iri.sh Society gave
him a reception. President Bo^'d
delivered the address of welcome,
and alluded therein to their common
origin. In reply, the distinguished
visitor said he had always been proud
of the country and countrymen of his
father, and most devoutly prayed for
the day wdien Ireland might enjoy
the blessings of freedom which she
so richly deserved through the sacri-
fices made for libert}' by her sons.
Colonel Boyd, however, was not the
only American of Irish origin to re-
sent the action of Governor Gardner.

Gen. Benjamin F. Butler was then
in command of the Sixth Massachu-
setts. He refused to compl}- with
the order, one of the companies
being attached to his regiment, and
was removed from his position. In
him the newly arrived immigrants
from the land of his ancestors always
found a stanch defender, ready at
all times to return with interest any
attack made on them on account of
their nationality. These facts are all
matters of record ; the roll of mem-
bership of the Charitable Irish So-
ciet}' of Boston is the evidence ; yet
how much credit does the Irish race
receive therefor from modern writers ?
Not a word. There is nothing in the
writings devoted to New^ Hampshire
history for the past forty 3'ears that
would lead the reader to infer that
there were any Irish people in the
state before the Revolution ; yet our
records make mention of them almost
from the first. Darby Field, who
came here about 1631, is styled "An
Irish soldier for di.scovery." He is
credited with being the first white

THE AMERICAX-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

131

man to ascend Mt. Washington. The
first of the vShannons, one of the early
famihes of Portsmouth, was a Dublin
man. The \'aughans went from Ire-
land to Wales, and from thence to
America. Col. David Dunbar, who
was lieutenant-governor of New
Hampshire when Belcher was gov-
ernor, was an Iri.shman, and his
superior, who did not love him, fre-
quenth^ reminded him, as our records
show, of his nationality in not very
endearing terms. Pierce Long came
from Lrimerick to Portsmouth before
the Revolution, and established a
mercantile house there; his son. Col.
Pierce Long, commanded one of the
New Hampshire regiments of the
Continental line, was a member, later,
of the executive council, and repre-
sented his state in the national con-
gress.

Joseph Ryan, a native of Ireland,
was Governor Wentworth's secretar}-
before the Revolution. Another,
Benjamin Gile, was one of the first
settlers of Newport, and for 3'ears its
most prominent citizen. Maurice
Lynch and Tobias Butler, both na-
tives of Galway, were among the first
settlers of Antrim. Both are men-
tioned in the town history as being
well educated. Annis, who, accord-
ing to Harriman, erected the first
house in Warner, was born in Ennis-
killen, Ireland. The historian saj^s
Great Britain, but the town men-
tioned is in Ireland, and Annis is but
another form of Ennis, Innis, or Mac-
Ginnis. On an old slate gravestone
in Canterbury Centre is an inscrip-
tion which tells its own story. It is
written by the person whose ashes
rest there, and who died in 1820. It
runs about as follows: " Hibernia
gave me birth, Columbia nurtured

me, Nassau Hall taught me: I have
fought, I have taught, and I ha\'e
labored with my hands ; and now the
earth possesses me in her bosom.
Kind friend, draw near, and take
heed, for to such must thou come

f«-

Hon. John C. Linehan.

Insurance Commissioner of New Hampshire.
Treasurer-General.

likewise." The stone was placed
there in memory of Capt. Henry
Parkinson, quartermaster of John
Stark's regiment, an Irishman, a sol-
dier, a school-master, and a farmer.

Since the institution of Memorial
Day, his grave is decorated each year
by a detail from William I. Brown
Post 31, G. A. R., of Penacook.

Who has not read of the Irish
school -masters of New Hampshire
over a centur}- ago ? They receive
honorable mention in the records of
the Massachusetts Historical Society,
but the present generation knows
them not. They are spoken of as be-
ing of good family and well educated.

132

THE AMERICAAMRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

Among them were Maurice Lynch,
Tobias Butler, Benjamin Gile, Ed-
ward Evans, Humphrey Sullivan,
Patrick Guinlon, John Sullivan, and
Henry Parkinson. The sons of John
Sullivan have made their mark in

Thomas B. Lawler

I,ibrarian and Archivist, Worcester, Mass.

their day and generation, as well as
their descendants, but until lateh'
they have not been credited by New
Hampshire writers to Ireland. Dr.
Quint, who delivered the address at
the dedication of the Sullivan
monument, was the first to place it
squarely on record. The services of
the Sullivans alone would entitle Ire-
land to honorable mention in our
state papers.

The founder of the family taught
school here for over half a century.
One of his sons, John, was the only
major-general from New Hamp.shire
in the Continental army, one of our
first presidents, attorney-general, the
first United vStates judge, and one of

the greatest men, all round, the state
has thus far produced. Another son,
James, was governor of Massachu-
setts, attorney-general, historian of
Maine, president of the Massachu-
setts Historical vSociety, etc., etc.;
and the two remaining sons, Daniel
and Eben, were captains in the Con-
tinental army, — the first of the two
dying in the service. One of his
grandsons was governor of Maine ;
another, United States senator from
New Hampshire ; the descendants of
James have been, and are, among the
wealthiest and most influential fam-
ilies in the old Bay State. Col. Her-
cules Mooney had command of a
regiment in the Revolutionary War,
and with him, of lesser rank or
serving as privates, were many
whose names, like his, denote their
origin. These are but a few of the
many whose names can be found in
our state records. The McClearys
occupy an honorable position in our
histor}'. If an}' one doubts their
nationality, an examination of any
city directory to-da}' will prove that
ninety-nine out of. every one hundred
men bearing that name will be found
to be Irishmen or their sons. As
much can be said of Murphy, of
Duffee, or of Duffy, with or without
the Mac. These latter names are
Iri,sh of the Irish, and have been in
evidence in the state for over a hun-
dred and fifty years.

What names are more common to-
day among Irish people in New
Hampshire than Kenu}-, Kelly, Hart,
Connor, Gilmore, Moore, Neil, Brad-
ley, Martin, Healy, Haley, Garvin,
Quigly, Sweeney, Sullivan, Casey,
Pendergast, Mooney, Cleary, Cole-
man, Connell, Kean, McEaughlan,
Cogan, Barry, Driscoll, Eeary, Fitz-

THE AMERICA N- IRISH HIS TO RICA L SOCIE T Y.

gerald, Maiiahan, Looiiey, Jordan,
Sexton, Moloney, Linehan, McMa-
han, Quinn, Carroll, Lynch, McCor-
niick, Murphy, Duffy, McGowan,
Butler, Roach, McCall, McGill,
Flynu, Connolly, Donnelly, Mullen,
McDermott, Hogan, etc., etc. Yet
there is not one of those names, as
well as many more as Irish in ap-
pearance, that will not be found in
our state records from 1631 to the
outbreak of the war for independ-
ence.

In Colonel Hazeu's Congress's Own
Continental regiment alone, there
were eleven companies composed
almost wholly of men bearing Irish
names. Four other companies in the
same regiment were composed en-
tirely of French Canadians. Fault
is found in Grand Army circles with
certain school histories of the United
States for the manner in which the)^
treat the Civil War, but Americans
of Irish origin can find a more se-
rious cause for complaint in the same
works, for in mentioning the various
races contributing to the population
of this country before the Revolution,
no credit is given to the Irish at all,
3'et Ramsey, who was an active pa-
triot, a member of the Continental
congress, and the author of the first
histor}' of the United States, said,
that, from Ireland, the United States
to the date of his history, about 1787,
or 1790, received the major part of
its emigrants. Ramsey was the son
of an Irish Presbyterian, and born in
Pennsylvania. His history was pub-
lished by Matthew Carey of Philadel-
phia, a Catholic and a native of Ire-
land. The latter was the father of
the well-known Henry C. Carey, a
writer on political economy. In
Pennsvlvania, the situation before

the Revolution, so far as the affilia-
tions of the Irish people were con-
cerned, was about the same as in
Boston. "The Friendly Sons of St.
Patrick," a convivial association,
was organized some years before the
Revolution, in Philadelphia.

Before its institution, the Irish
merchants of that city had organized
"The Hibernia Fire Bucket Bri-
gade " for mutual protection.

This was merged into the new so-
ciety, but the formation of the com-
pany was kept intact, existing even
to this day under the name of the
"Hibernia Fire Engine Company."
This company has always affiliated
with the society of which it is a part.
During the Civil War it Avas the nu-
cleus of two full regiments which

T. Russell Sullivan.

Great-great-grandson of Gov. James Sullivan.
Of the Executive Council, Boston.

were .sent out ftilly armed and
equipped b}- the society. To "The
Friendly vSons of St. Patrick" be-
longed the leading Irishmen of the
Quaker city, Catholic and Protestant.
There were many of the former, for
that colon \- was the most tolerant of

134

THE AMERICAX-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

Hon. Joseph Smith.

Of the Executive Council. Secretary Board of
Police Commissioners, Lowell, Mass.

the thirteen. The membership num-
bered abovit eighty-three, and nearly
every man was engaged in one ca-
pacity or another in the war for inde-
pendence. (General Washington was
an adopted member.) Among them
were Commodore John Barr}-, "The
Father of the American Navy";
Gen. Stephen Moylan, commander
of the Dragoons; Gen. Kdward
Hand, adjutant-general in the Con-
tinental army ; Gen. John Hogan,
Gen. Henry Knox, Gen. Anthony
Wayne, Gen. Daniel Morgan, and
many others of lesser rank, and with
them were George Meade, the grand-
father of the hero of Gettysburg ; his
busitiess partner, Thomas Fitzsim-
mous, who was the last of the signers
of the Constitution to die ; Blair
McClenachau, whose statue is one of
the four at the base of the Trenton
battle monument ; Thomas McKean,
and man\- others who were eminent

in civil life. Owing to the arrival of
many Irish emigrants after the Revo-
lution, large numbers of whom were
in needy circumstances, the society
was changed from a convivial to a
benevolent association, in order to
extend aid to their destitute country-
men ; and its title changed to that
of "The Hibernian Benevolent So-
ciety," which name it bears to this
day. The first president of the new
society was Thomas McKean, in his
day one of the most prominent men
in the country. In 1887, during the
celebration of the centennial of the
Constitution in Philadelphia, this so-
ciety gave a reception and banquet
to the visiting governors. The pre-
siding officer was ex-Governor Cur-
tin, who was of Irish parentage. In
Pennsylvania, men of his blood made
their mark early. James Logan,
William Penn's first governor, was
born in Ireland. The library in ex-
istence to-da}', bearing his name, is
an index of his character. All of
these facts are good illustrations of
the labor to be performed by the new
society. Ordinarily, the mention of
the institution of a Masonic lodge in
New Hampshire in 1770, or there-
abouts, bearing the name of St.
Patrick, would be taken as an indi-
cation of the presence of men of Irish
blood ; or the demand of Stark's
rangers at Fort William Henry, on
March 17, for an extra ration of
grog, to celebrate vSt. Patrick's Day
properly ; or the toast given at the
banquet in Wyoming to Sullivan and
his victorious troops, on the return
from the campaign against the Six
Nations; namely, that "The king-
dom of Ireland merits a stripe in the
American standard ; " or the fact
that of the five generals holding

IHE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

135

coniinand in this expedition, two,
Sullivan and Clinton, were of Irish
parentage, and Hand and Maxwell,
of Irish birth ; the fifth was Light
Infantry Poore, of New Hampshire ;
or the fact that during the Revolu-
tionary period, John Sullivan was
governor of this state ; James Sul-
livan, of Massachusetts; Thomas
Burke, a native of Gahvay, governor
of North Carolina ; George Bryan,
a native of Dublin, governor of Penn-
sylvania ; Edanus Burke, a native of
Galway, first chief justice of Georgia
and South Carolina : Pierce Butler,
a native of Cavan, first United States
senator from South Carolina, and
many others, whose names are on
record ; men like Charles Carroll, of
Carrollton, and Thomas Lynch, of
vSoutli Carolina, signers of the Dec-
laration of Independence ; and of
Daniel Carroll and Thomas Fitzsim-
mons, signers of the Constitution ;
and of John Carroll, the first Cath-
olic bishop in the LTnited States.

Last, but not- least, the gallant
O'Brien, of Maine, whose blood
flowed in the veins of the fearless
John P. Hale. Surely, here is mate-
rial enough to justify the organiza-
tion and encourage the members of
the American- Irish Historical socie-
ty. The membership already num-
bers over 300. . Man}- of them are
men of national repute, and all are
men of character. They comprise
Americans of the eighth generation,
as well as natives of the Phnerald
Isle. There is no religious or race
test ; Catholics, Presbyterians, Epis-
copalians, Methodists, etc., both lay
and clerical, are enrolled in its ranks.
The first president-general of the so-
ciety was Rear -Admiral Meade,
U. S. N., retired, of Philadelphia,

Pa., a nephew of Gen. George Gor-
don Meade, and a great-great-grand-
son of the founder of the family in
this country. He died at Washing-
ton, D. C, May 4, 1897, deeply re-
gretted. The present officers are, —
President-General, Edward A. Mose-
ley. Interstate Commerce Commis-
sion, Washington, D. C; secretary-
general, Thomas Hamilton Murrav,
editor Pawtucket Tribune ; treasurer-
general, John C. Linehan, Concord.
N. H.; librarian, Thomas B. Law-
ler, Worcester, Mass.; executive
council, in addition to the foregoing,
Robert I^. Thompson, Philadelphia,
Pa.; Thomas Dunn English, New-
ark, N. J.; James Jeffrey Roche,
Bo.ston, Mass.; Maurice F. Eagan,
Catholic University, Washington,
D. C; Joseph Smith, Lowell, Mass.;
Thomas J. Gargan, Boston, Mass.;
T. Russell vSullivan, Boston, Mass.

James Jeffrey Roche.

liditor of the Boston Pilot. Of the Kxecutive
Council. Massachusetts.

136

THE AM HRICAX- IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

Twenty-four states are alreach'
represented in the membership of the
organization, extending from Ver-
mont to Utah. No tests, other than
that of character and devotion to
the society's objects, shall be applied
to membership. Among the state
vice-presidents are, for Maine, James
Cunningham, Portland; New Hamp-
shire, T. P. Sullivan, Concord;
Massachusetts, Osborne Howes, Bos-

Hon Thomas J.Gargan.

Of the ICxecutive Council, Boston.

ton; Rhode Island, M. J. Harson,
Providence; Connecticut, Joseph
Forsyth Swords, Hartford ; New
York, Gen. James R. O'Beirne;
New Jersey, Hon. William Mc-
Adoo ; Pennsylvania, Gen. St. Clair
A. Mulholland ; Georgia, ex-United
States Senator Patrick Walsh ; Ohio,
Rev. George W. Pepper; Indiana,
Rev. Andrew Morrisey, president
of the University of Notre Dame ;
Michigan, Hon. T. A. li. Weadock ;

District of Columbia, J. D. O' Cou-
ncil .

The society is constructed on a
broad and liberal plane ; it is non-
sectarian and non-partisan ; being an
American organization in spirit and
principle, it greets and welcomes to
its ranks Americans of whatever race
descent, and of whatever creed, who
take an interest in the special line of
research for which the society is or-
ganized.

As one of the principal objects of
the institvition of the society is the
correction of what are considered
erroneous conclusions regarding the
earl}' settlers in this country from
Ireland, an analysis of the member-
ship roll cannot help being of inter-
est to all concerned in the subject.

Modern writers claim that the
people who came here early in the
eighteenth centur}- from that coun-
try were pure Scotch, and that even
the term "Scotch-Irish" is a mis-
nomer, no Irish blood flowing in
their veins. Conceding that those
from the north of Ireland were of
Scotch origin, and as such different
in blood from the native Irish (a con-
cession, however, which is not made,
for every reader of history who is
not blinded by prejudice must
acknowledge their common origin),
there were thousands of undoubted
native Irish stock, not onh^ from the
north, but as well from the south,
east, and west of Ireland, who had
distinguished themselves in one way
or another, but who have been
classed, without discrimination, with
the so-called "Scotch-Irish." A
few illustrations will prove this.
Many of the names of the members
of the "American Irish Historical
Society ' ' who consider themselves of

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

137

Irish descent, were borne by men
who had aided in the estabhshnient
or maintenance of the Republic, and
were among the most active pro-
moters of the struggle which gave us
independence.

Commodore John Barry, a native
of Wexford, Ireland, is styled "The
father of the American navy." This
proud title has never been disputed.
It is given him in the authorized his-
tory of that branch of the service. A
braver man never trod the quarter-
deck of a man of war, and all writers
unite in saying that his private life
was irreproachable. Rev. John E.
Barr}-, vicar-general of the diocese
of New' Hampshire, represents the
name in the society. Thomas Burke,
a native of Galwa^^ was the first gov-
ernor of North Carolina after the
adoption of the Constitution, and one
of the most active patriots in that
colony. Edanus Burke, a native of
Galway, was the first chief justice of
Georgia and South Carolina, and
like his namesake one of the most
active men in his colony. There is a
tradition that both were graduates of
St. Omers, the Irish college in exi.st-
ence in Paris during the penal days.
It will not be amiss to state that the
colonies had a warm friend in the
English parliament at the same time,
in the person of the Hon. Edmund
Burke. Mr. J. Edmund Burke, su-
perintendent of schools in Lawrence,
is the representative of the name in
the society.

Morris O'Brien, a native of Cork,
Ireland, came over long before the
Revolution and settled in Maine. He
and his .seven sons took part in the
capture of the first British vessel after
the outbreak of hostilities. Two of
the sons. John and Jeremiah, were

commanders of vessels of war, one of
which was named the Hibcrnia, and
distinguished themselves during the
struggle. Capt. Jeremiah O'Brien
was living in 1840. He had com-
mand of the expedition in which his
father and brothers participated, and
an account of it. taken from his lips,
was published in the proceedings
of the Massachusetts Historical Gen-

ealogical Society.

The 3'oungest

Hon. Theodore Roosevelt.

A.ssistant Secretary of the Navy. Member of
Executive Council.

brother was the second in command
under Jeremiah. He was mortalh'
wounded during an engagement with
a British vessel, dying at the age of
twenty-three. His daughter, Mary
O'Brien, was the mother of the Hon.
John P. Hale of New Hampshire,
one of the most uncompromising foes
of human slavery. The descend-
ants of Morris in Maine have never
dropped the O'. They have been
and are among the mo.st sub.stantial
citizens of the Pine Tree state.

138

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

George Bryau, a native of Dublin,
Ireland, was the first governor of
Penns5'lvania after the adoption of
the Constitution, and was prominent
in the cause of freedom ; like Hale,

y^lj

Thomas Addis Emmett, M. D., of New York.

Grandson of Thomas Addis Umniett.and grand-
nephew of Robert Uniniett, the Irish martyr.
"When my country takes its place among the
nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let
my epitaph be written."

he was a determined opponent of
slavery.

Jonathan Bryan was a member of
the Royal Council in Georgia. He
cast his lot with the patriots and
with them shared in the privations
and glories of the war. No one in
that colony took a more active part
in the struggle. Associated with
him was William O' Bryan, who was
a member of the first provincial con-
gress, July 4, 1775, and who bore an
honorable part in the contest. On
the adoption of the constitution, he
was chosen one of the first two state
treasurers. Still another was Hugh

Bryan, who sat in the same congress
with William. All three were at-
tainted of treason, but they lived to
see the humiliation of the govern-
ment, which would, had it possessed
the power, have hanged them. Rev.
Michael O'Brien, of Lowell, is one of
the representatives of the name on
the roll of the society-.

Major-General Hugh Brady, a na-
tive of Penns3dvania, of Iri.sh par-
entage, entered the United States
army as ensign in 1792. He fought
in the Indian War under Wayne,
and served with distinction in the
War of r8i2. He was complimented
for gallantry at Chippewa, Ivund3^'s
Lane, and Niagara. He was pro-
moted to a brigadier in 1842, and to
major-general in 1848. He served
continuously nearly sixty years. The
society's representative of the name
is Col. James D. Brady, of Meagher's
Irish Brigade. He was born in Vir-
ginia of Irish parents, but when the
war broke out he came to New York
and enlisted in the Union army, be-
coming colonel of the Sixty-third
New York before the struggle ended.
He has represented his native state
in the national house since the war,
and now resides in Washington,
D. C.

Col. Pierce Butler was a native of
County Cavan, Ireland, and a son of
Col. Pierce Butler, who represented
that county in the Irish parliament.
He came over before the Revolution,
an officer in the British army ; later
he resigned his commission and lo-
cated in South Carolina. When the
Revolution broke out, he espoused
the cause of the colonists, and when
liberty was secured and the govern-
ment established, was chosen the
first United States senator from the

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

139

Palmetto state. His descendants
have always been prominent in the
South. One of them, Hon. M. C.
Butler, of Charleston, S. C, is a
member of the society. He was a
major-general in the cavalry branch
of the Confederate army, and repre-
sented his native state in the national
senate. It is doubtful if a name can
be found in the annals of America
that has had so many distinguished
representatives in all the walks of
life, and the ancestors of nearly, if
not all, came from Ireland.

Michael Kearney was treasurer of
the colony of New Jersey early in
the eighteenth ceutury, and from that
time the name has been prominent in
that state. Gen. Stephen Kearney-
was a gallant officer of the regular
army and the first or about the first
United States governor of California.
General Philip Kearney, who fell at
Chantilly, was of the same family,
and the idol of his men. Commo-
dore lyaurence Kearney was another.
The name is represented in the roll
of the society by Mathew J. and
Michael J. Carney of Lawrence.

O'Connor, one of the most ancient,
as it is one of the most honorable,
names in Ireland, has been on the
New Hampshire records from the
earliest times. Thomas O'Connor
came to New York in 1801. He was
a writer of marked ability, and a dis-
tinguished journalist, but his reputa-
tion was dimmed by that of his cele-
brated son, Charles O'Connor, who
was, at the time of his death, ad-
mittedly at the head of the American
bar. This state has had no more
valued sons than those bearing this
name. One of them. Col. Freeman
W. Conner, commanded the Forty-
fourth New York in the late war.

Mathew Carey, a native of Dublin,
Ireland, came over just after the
Revolution. He established a pub-
lishing house in Philadelphia, which
was in its day one of the most sub-
stantial in the country. The first
hi.story of the United States, written
by Ramsey, the son of an Irish Pres-
byterian, in 17S7, was published by
Carey, who was an Irish Catholic.
Henry C. Carey, the celebrated writ-
er on political economy, was his sou.
He can well be called " The father of
the American principle of protection,"
filling the same place in his day that
was in our own time filled by Horace
Greeley. In many ways both men
were alike, being warm lovers and

Hun. Thomas Dunn English.

Ex-Member of Congress. \-ice-President, New
Jersej'.

good haters. J- J- Carey of Law-
rence represents the name in the
society.

Charles Carroll of Carrollton. " the
first citizen of Maryland," needs no

140

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

eulogy. He put up the largest stake
ill the contest, for it is said he was
its wealthiest sou. His descendants
have been among the best, governors,
judges, statesmen, and soldiers. He
was the last of the immortal signers
to die, living long enough, until 1832,
to see the go\'ernment firmh' estab-
lished. His cousin. Rev. John Car-
roll, who was associated with Frank-
lin in the mission to the Canadian
French in 1775, was the first Cath-
olic bishop in the United States, be-
loved by people of all creeds, and an
intimate associate of the immortal
Washington.

Another cousin, Daniel Carroll,

Hon. Ignatius Donnelly.

Ex-Member of Congress, from Minnesota. Vice-
President.

was one of the signers of the Consti-
tution, a wealthy man, one of the
committee appointed by congress to
select the site of the city of Wash-
ington, and the national capitol is
located on what was then his home-

stead. No family in America has
borne a more honorable record than
this representative of one of the great
old Irish clans. Several are on the
roll of the new societ}-, among them
Hon. Hugh J. Carroll, ex-mayor of
Pawtucket, R. I. A great-grandson
of the signer, John lyce Carroll, has
been governor of Maryland in our
own day.

James Kavanaugh came to Maine
before the nineteenth century. He
was a prosperous merchant and lum-
berman in Damariscotta. His son,
Hon. Edward Kavanaugh, was pres-
ident of the Maine senate, governor
of the state, and minister to Portugal.
The parochial school in Portland was
the gift of his daughter. Michael
Cavanagh of Washington repre-
sents the name on the records of the
societ}'.

Edward Callahan was a wealthy
planter and a prominent man in the
vicinity of Richmond, Virginia, in
1765. His name appears beside that
of George Washington on a deed,
printed in the Calendar .state pa-
pers. His homestead, "Callahan's
Station," in Virginia, was the scene
of many conflicts during the Civil
War. His descendants are nu-
merous and influential in the "Old
Dominion." Rev. Dennis O'Calla-
ghan of South Boston is one of the
representatives of the name in the
society.

Corcoran, the well-known Wash-
ington banker, was of Irisli parent-
age. Few men, aside from George
Peabody, amassed more wealth, or
were more liberal in expending it.
The city of Washington is in po.sses-
sion of many valuable monuments of
his bounty and munificence, not the
least of which is the art gallery bear-

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

141

insj his name. Hon. John \V. Cor-
■coran represents the name in the
society.

Capt. David Donohoe was in com-
mand of an armed vessel, fitted out
by the " Massachusetts Bay " at the
time of the French and Indian wars,
prior to the Revohition. His name
received honorable mention in the
colonial papers of that state, as well
as in tho.se of New Hampshire. The
name is borne b>' three members of
the societ}-, one of whom is Patrick
Donohoe, the venerable founder of
the Boston Pilot.

Dr.' Hugh Egan was a reputable
physician and surgeon in Ipswich,
Mass., early in the eighteenth cen-
tury. He died in 1739. Rev. M. H.
Egan, of New^ Hampshire, and Prof.
Maurice V . Egan are representatives
of this good old Irish name.

Dr. Thomas Addis Emmett of
New York, one of the first members
of the society, is the grandson of
Thomas Addis Emmett, whose mon-
ument stands in St. Paul's church-
yard on Broadway, New York. The
famil}^ needs no eulogy. The name
of Robert Emmett, his granduncle,
will forever be dear to the heart of
every son of the Emerald Isle, and
the transfer of the name to America
has not diluted the blood, for the
modern Emmetts are at the forefront
in every movement for the elevation
of the race from wdiich they sprung.
Two of the family were staff officers
in active service during the Civil
War.

Col. John O' Fallon was a gallant
officer in the United States army,
and one of the founders of the city of
St. Eouis. His name is one of the
most familiar among the first settlers
of that citv. He was General W. H.

Harrison's chief of staff at the Battle
of Tippecanoe, and ser\-ed with
credit through the War of 181 2.
Hon. Joseph D. Fallon of Boston,
one of the numicipal judges, is the
society's representative of the name.

T. P. Sullivan.

Vice-President, New Hampshire.

Brigadier - General John Hogan
was one of eighty-three men who
held the rank of general in the Con-
tinental army, and rendered valiant
ser\nce to the cause of independence.
Rev. J. Hogan represents the name.

Major-General William S. Harney,
like General Brady, spent a lifetime
in the regular army. He held the
rank of brigadier at the outbreak of
the Civil War, but was too old for
active ser^-ice. Three of the name —
Patrick, Herbert, and Thomas Har-
ney, of Lynn, — represent the name.

The name of Kelh' is to-day one of
the most common borne by Ameri-
cans ; so numerous are those who
bear it among the " natives" that its

142

THE AMERICAX-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

bare meutiou ought to be sufficient.
' ' Darb}' Kelly ' ' appears among the
rate pa\'ers of Exeter early in the
eighteenth century. He is described
as a "bright, witty Irishman." His
son was one of the first settlers of
New Hampton. The original home-
stead is now in possession of Hon.
Joseph H. Walker, of Massachvi-
setts, who is married to one of his
descendants. Captain Warren M.

Rev Andrew Morrissey.

President I'liiversity of Notre Dame. Vice-Pres-
ident, Indiana.

Kelly, of the Tenth New Hamp-
shire Volunteers, who, it is claimed,
commanded the first company to
enter Richmond after its fall, and
General B. F. Kelly, of West Vir-
ginia, who is credited with raising
the first Union regiment and with
winning the first Union victory
south of Mason and Dixon's line,
are both descendants of Darby Kelly
and natives of New Hampton. Jolm
Kelly was one of the first settlers of

Newbury, Mass., building his log-
cabin there in 1635. The name is
represented on the society's roll by
Lieutenant - Commander J. D. J.
Kelly of the battleship Texas.

When a man of Irish blood desires
to witness an inspiring sight, let him
go to Gettysburg and look at the
monument placed there to mark the
position at the stone wall held by the
Sixty-ninth Penns3dvania. The in-
scription reads that on that spot, in
repelling Pickett's charge, Colonel
Dennis O'Kane, his lieutenant-col-
onel, major, and adjutant were either
killed or mortally wounded. The
name of Kane stands high in the
annals of America. Elisha Kent
Kane a generation ago filled the
place now occupied by modern Arc-
tic explorers, and whether in the
form of Kane, Kean, Keown, Cowan,
McKean, or McKeon, men who have
borne it have been distinguished in
all the walks of life. John P. Kane,
of Uawrence, is the society's repre-
sentative.

William H. Keating was an Irish-
man who went to France and re-
ceived a commission in the French
army. He came to the West Indies
with his regiment, and at the out-
break of the French Revolution he
resigned and came to this country,
settling in Philadelphia. His oldest
son married the daughter of Francis
Hopkinson, one of the signers.
Another son was professor in the
University of Pennsylvania, and the
founder of the Franklin Institute.
His nephew was the director of the
Gettysburg hospital after the battle,
and his son accompanied General
(irant in his tour around the world.
Tlie family has been eminent in
every generation. Patrick M. Keat-

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIEI Y.

143

ing of Boston is the representative
of the name in the societ}-.

Blair McClenachan — the gaelic
form of Lanahau, Linehan, or I^eni-
han, with the prefix Mac — was one
of the prominent merchants in Phila-
delphia at the time of the Revoln-
tion, and a member of the Frieudl}'
Sons of St. Patrick. He gave
^10,000 to the fund for the relief of
the Continental army. He was one
of the founders of the first bank in
the United States. He had com-
mand of the city troop of Philadel-
phia at the Battle of Trenton, and
his statue is one of the four grouped
around the base of the battle monu-
ment erected a few j-ears ago. He
lived to a great age, and was one of
the most respected men in the city
and state. Four of the name are on
the society's membership roll, among
them John C. Linehan, the treasurer-
general, and Rev. T. P. Linehan.

Thomas Lynch, a native of Ire-
land, was one of South Carolina's
first settlers, and one of its wealthiest
planters. He first introduced the cul-
tivation of rice into America. His
grandson of the same name was one
of the immortal signers, and his de-
scendants have always been among
the most progressive and useful of
the citizens of the Palmetto state.
The name is also noted in Virginia
and the southwestern states. The
term ' ' Lynch law ' ' is attributed to
Col. Charles Lynch of the latter
state, who is credited with hanging
over one hundred Tories during tlie
Revolution. Maurice Lynch, well
educated, and described as a fine pen-
man, was the first town clerk of An-
trim, and with him was Tobias But-
ler, both, for a wonder, classed as
Irish without the prefix. Three rep-

resentatives of the name are on the
society's roll, among them Oeneral
John J. Lynch and Rev. RoV)ert V.
Lynch of Portland.

Count Dillon was one of D'Es-
taing's generals at Savannah. Dur-
ing the siege his regiment, of the
celebrated Irish brigade in the
French serv'ice, was with the expedi-
tionary corps. It is worthy of note
that the descendants of the defenders

•/

Rev. George W. Pepper.

Of the Methodist church, Cleveland. \'ice-Pres-
ident, Ohio.

of Derry and Limerick, whose fathers
had fought on opposite sides in Ire-
land, were in the Revolution in
America arrayed side by side against
the government that had made them
exiles. Captain Moses Dillon, of El
Paso, Texas, represents the name in
the society.

Robert Meade, a native of Ireland,
came to Philadelphia early in the
eighteenth ceutur3% founding a mer-
cantile house, which was managed

144

THE A M ERICA N- IRISH HIS TO RICA L SO CIE 7 Y.

at the time the Revolution broke out,
by his son, George Meade. Few
famiUes in America have made such
a record in the character of their
descendants. The firm of Meade »&
Fitzsimmons contributed /,' 10,000 to
the fund for the ami}-. Richard
Worsam Meade, the son of George,
was one of the most opulent mer-
chants in the city of Philadelphia.
He established a branch house in

Hon. Patrick Walsh.

Ex-United States Senator. Editor Augusta Cliron
Vice-President, Georgia.

Cadiz, Spain, and was for eleven
years United States naval agent for
that port. His son, Richard Wor-
sam Meade, was the oldest brother of
General George Gordon Meade — the
hero of Gettysburg — and the father
of the late Rear Admiral Richard
Worsam Meade, the first president of
the "American-Irish Historical So-
ciety." When Admiral Meade ac-
cepted this position, he wrote an in-
spiring letter, every line of which

was permeated with love for the race
from which he had sprung, and this
feeling of affection for the land of his
fathers found vent in a history of his
family, which is in possession of the
"American Catholic Historical So-
ciety" of Philadelphia. Few fam-
ilies in America can show such a
record for five generations.

Thomas Fitzsimmons, the business
partner of George Meade, was prom-
inent in civil affairs throughout
the struggle for independence.
He was one of the signers of the
Constitution, and, like Charles
Carroll, was the last of his asso-
ciates to die. Both Meade and
Fitzsimmons were members of
' the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick
and the Hibernian Society, both
were Catholics, and the first
president of the latter organiza-
tion was Thomas McKean, a
Presbyterian, which is an index
of the fraternity then existing
on this side of the ocean be-
tween Irish Protestants and
Catholics.

Murphy or MacMurphy has
been one of the standard names
in New Hampshire since the
beginning of the eighteenth
century. John McMurphy was
for years the leading man in
Londonderry after its settlement, and
his descendants have been among
the most substantial people of the
state since then. Capt. John Mur-
phy had command of a privateer
from Rhode Island during the Revo-
lution. James Murphy, a native of
South Carolina, was governor of Ala-
bama from 1825 to 1829, and also
represented that state in Congress.
In his day he was the most influen-
tial man in his adopted state. Archi-

ide

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

145

bald Murphy was an eminent jurist
and educator in North Carolina,
and Isaac L. Murphy was governor
of Arkansas. A recent classification
of names in Ireland places Murphy
in the front rank numerically : it is,
therefore, enough to make an Hiber-
nian smile to read of such men as
being of " Scotch- Irish " origin, with
not a drop of Irish blood in their
veins. Among the representatives of
the name in the society is Hon. John
R. Mvirphy of Boston.

Col. James Mullaney was quarter-
master-general of the United States
army in 1808. He was born in New
York of Irish parentage. Rear Ad-
miral James R. M. Mullaney was his
son. When the admiral died, in
1887, it was said of him, "No gov-
ernment or people ever had a more
gallant or faithful servant, as gentle
and kind as he was faithful and
brave." Moloney, which is another
form of the same name, was repre-
sented early in New Hampshire. A
member of the family who went
West, Richard Moloney, represented
Illinois in the national house of rep-
resentatives. M. J. Moloney of
IvOwell represents the society.

In the records of the city of Som-
ersworth, mention is made of the en-
gagement of Hercules Mooney to
teach school in 1723. His son, Col.
Hercules Mooney, had command of
a New Hampshire regiment in the
Continental army. He had seen ser-
vice in the colonial wars before, and
his name bears frequent and honor-
able mention in the state records.

One of the man}' Irish schoolmas-
ters in New Hampshire was Mr.
William Donovan, who was following
his profession in the town of Weare
in 1773. He is credited with being

a man of superior educational ability ;
while in New Boston Judge Jeremiah
vSmitli studied Latin with him. The
name is well known in the South,
having gone there early. Maj. W^ H.
Donovan of Lawrence, of the Ninth
Massachusetts, S. M., with nine
others of the same name are mem-
bers .

Col. Thomas Donegan was gover-
nor of the colonv of New York under

Hon. Thomas A. E. Weadock.

Ex-Member of Congress. \'ice-President, Mich-
igan.

James II. None of the colonial
rulers bear a better reputation. He
was born in Limerick, and bore the
title later of Earl of Limerick. The
society's representative of the name
is P. E. Donigan of Lawrence, Mass.
Col. Andrew Donnelly was in com-
mand of the \Mrginia troops at Cxreen-
briar in 1781. One of his subordi-
nates was Maj. Owen Connolly. Hon.
Ignatius Donnelly, of Minnesota, and
James Connolly, of Colorado, are the

146

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

society's representatives of these two
old Celtic names.

Maj.-Gen. Thomas Conway, a na-
tive of Ireland, and an officer in the
French service, held tlie position of
major-general in the Continental
army. His unfortunate connection
with the conspiracy to displace Wash-
ington terminated his career in Amer-
ica, but all writers give him credit
for being a brave but impulsive man.
William McConway of Pittsburg,
Pa., represents the name.

Col. Thomas McLaughlan was one
of New Hampshire's Continental sol-
diers during the Revolution. Dr.
Henry Mclyaughlan of Brookline,
Mass., represents the name.

Gen. James R. O'Beirne.

Past President Medal of Honor L,egion. Vice-
President, New York.

Florence McCarthy was one of Bos-
ton's leading business men long be-
fore the eighteenth century. His
descendants for a hundred years later
were among: the most substantial res-

idents of Massachusetts. Of the
twelve persons specially mentioned
by Washington, on his death-bed, to
attend his funeral, two were "Mr.
McCarthy and family and Mr. Mc-
lyanahan and family." McCarthy's
Virginia battery was one of the most
famous in the Confederate service
during the Civil War. Among those
bearing the name in the society is
Charles IMcCarthy of Portland, Me.

John McDonough, a native of Ire-
land, came to Maryland in 1755. He
was with Washington in the ill-fated
Braddock expedition. His son John
became one of Baltimore's most opu-
lent merchants. He went to New
Orleans in 1800, w^here he accumu-
lated great wealth. He founded the
town of McDonoughville. At his
death he left $200,000 to New Or-
leans and Baltimore for the support
of free schools. Major Thomas Mc-
Donough, born in Ireland, was an
officer in the regular service. His
principal distinction was in being the
father of Commodore Thomas Mc-
Donough, the hero of Plattsburg,
one of the most brilliant victories of
18 1 2. Rev. M. C. McDonough of
Portland, Me., represents the name.

Council or McConnell figures in
the annals of New Hampshire early,
especially in its military resources.
Col. Samuel McConnell was a sol-
dier of the French and Independence
wars. It is also common in Pennsyl-
vania since the beginning of the
eighteenth century. The genius of
Daniel O' Council added new lustre
to it in the home of the race. J. D.
O'Connell of Washington represents
the name in the society.

Gen. Bennett Riley, of Irish par-
entage, born in Virginia, entered the
regular service in 1S13. Like Har-

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORIC AL SOCIETY.

ney and Brady he spent a lifetime in
the army. He was the first terri-
torial ofovernor of California, sue-
ceeding Kearney, who was military
governor. He reached the full rank
of major-general. Luke O'Reilly of
Washington is the society's repre-
sentative.

Owen Sullivan, son of one of the de-
fenders of Limerick against William
III., came over here in 1723. He lo-
cated in Benvick, Me., and for over
half a century taught school in New
Hampshire. Major - General John
Sullivan, a major-general in the Con-
tinental arm}-, a governor of his na-
tive state, a United States jndge,
attorney' -general, and one of New
Hampshire's most useful and bril-
liant sons; James Sullivan, governor
and attorney - general of Massachu-
setts and historian of Maine; Capt.
Daniel Sullivan, and Capt. Eben
Sullivan of the continental line, were
sons of the schoolmaster, and his
descendants have been prominent in
professional or business circles down
to our own day. Men bearing this
name have been identified with the
history of the country for consider-
ably over a century. Jeremiah Sulli-
van, a native of Virginia and a grad-
uate of William and Mary College,
held the rank of major in the War of
1 81 2. Algernon S. Sullivan, one of
the most brilliant members of the
New York bar, and Gen. Jeremiah
C. vSullivan of the Union army were
his sons. Ten of the name are mem-
bers of the society, among them T. P.
Sullivan of Concord, and T. Russell
Sullivan of Boston. The latter is the
great - graud.son of Governor James
Sullivan.

Maj. Ferdinand O'Neale was a
noted dragoon leader under Greene

in North Carolina, and distin-
guished himself in the campaign
against Lord Rawdon. John Bel-
ton O'Neil, in his day one of the
most brilliant men in the state, was

Gen, St. Clair A. Wlulholland.

Medal of Honor Soldier and United States Pen-
sion Agent, Philadelphia. Vice-President.
Pennsj'lvania.

born in South Carolina, in 1793, of
Irish parentage. He filled many
positions of honor, among them that
of chief justice of his state. Gen.
John McNeil, of New Hampshire,
was a distinguished soldier in the
War of 1812. Walter Neale was
the first governor of New Hamp-
shire. Gen. Edward O'Neal, of
Alabama, was one of the brigade
commanders in Pickett's charge at
Gettysburg, and later governor of his
state. The name, either as Neale,
O'Neil, or McNeil, has been identi-
fied with the history of North Amer-
ica almost from the first settlement.
Hon. Joseph O'Neal of Boston rep-
resents the society.

148

THE AMERIC AX-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

Joseph Ryan was provincial secre-.
tary of New Hampshire before the
Revolution. Like Kelly, the name
is quite common among Americans
of the old stock. J. P. Ryan of
Lawrence is one of the members of
that name.

Col. John Fitzgerald, who lived in
Alexandria, Virginia, was Wash-
ington's favorite aide. He ser\'ed
throughout the war ; later he was

-.3*#

James Cunningham.

Vice-President, Portland, Maine.

mayor and collector of the port of
Alexandria. His record as a soldier
or a civilian is a proud one, fully
up to that made by many of his name
in Ireland. Edward Fitzgerald was
one of the first settlers of Bo.scawen.
Coffin, the town historian, credits
him with being of Irish birth, well
educated, prosperous, and influen-
tial. His descendants, now known
as either Fitz or Cierald, are nu-
merous. His l)lood flows in the
veins of .some of the be.st American

(Scotch-Irish of course) families in
Merrimack county. There is a tra-
dition that the Blackwater river was
named by him after the stream bear-
ing the same name in Ireland, on
whose banks it is belie\-ed he was
born. Oh, tell it not in Windham, that
in one instance, at least, a Fitzgerald
married a Morrison in Boscawen,
and strange to say, the union was not
only productive, but no degeneration
of stock followed. The name Fitz-
gerald is pretty well Americanized
to-day. It is borne by the only
duke in Ireland, but here it has been
distinguished wdthout titles. Gen.
Louis Fitzgerald, of New York, was
a gallant officer in the Civil War.
Patrick J. Fitzgerald of Haverhill,
Mass., is the society's representative.

Dr. Hunter McGuire, of western
Virginia, was a noted surgeon and
physician three quarters of a century
ago. His son, of the same name and
profession, was vStonewall Jackson's
chief surgeon, and one of the most
di.stinguished of his class in the Con-
federate ser\'ice. He attended the
great Confederate when he received
his death wound. His representa-
tive in the society is John E. Ma-
guire of Haverhill.

According to "O' Hart's Irish Ped-
igrees," the Gaffneys are an offshoot
of the princely hou.se of the Maguires
of Fermanagh. Hon. Charles B. Gaff-
ney of Rochester represents his name
in the societ5^

Gen. James Moore, of the Conti-
nental army, was, it is said, a lineal
descendant of the heroic Roger or
Rory O'Moore, of the Rebellion of
1 64 1. One of the first governors of
the Old North vState was his ancestor.

None bears a more honorable men-
tion or is more frequently met with

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

149

in the South, or Southwest, than the
name borne b)' Ireland's national bard.
The Moores are among the most nu-
merous of the many faniih' names
transplanted here from Europe, and
with ver}' few exceptions the original
immigrants bearing it came from Ire-
land. Col. O'Brien Moore of Wash-
ington represents the society as a
life member.

Among the brave men mentioned
by Colonel Donelson in his diary,
who went on an expedition to Ten-
nessee in 1779, was John McCaffrey.
Hugh McCaffrey of Philadelphia is
the societ5''s representative.

A member of the provincial coun-
cil of Tennessee in 1776 was David
Hickey. Michael J. Hickey of
Haverhill is on the societ3-'s roll.

Capt. Bryan McSweeney, a native
of Ireland, was one of the first set-
tlers of Holderness. He is given
frequent and honorable mention in
the state records. He fought in the
French and Indian wars, and was a
captain in the Continental army.
With Michael Dwj-er, a fellow^- coun-
tryman, he was one of the town offi-
cers. Hon. Edward McSweeney of
New York represents the name in
the society.

Among the names of the persons
to whom Pickett's " History of Ala-
bama" is dedicated, is that of Ben-
jamin Fitzpatrick. He was gover-
nor and a member of the United
States senate from that state, and
during his life an influential man.
His representative in the society is
Thomas B. Fitzpatrick, of Brown,
Durrell & Co., Boston. .

Mathew Byrne was one of the
pioneers of Alabama mentioned in
Pickett's history in 1791. With
him were the families of Phelan,

Kilcrea, Donley, McGrew, Caffrey,
Riley, Fleming, and Malier. The
latter was a wealthy Indian trader.
The society's representative of the
first mentioned is Gen. James R.
O'Beirne, a gallant ofhcer of the
Civil War and a medal of honor sol-
dier. He resides in New York.

Michael Walsh, born in Ireland,
in 1763, came over after receiving
his education and became a famous
instructor in Massachusetts. He
was engaged at Marblehead academy
at its institution in 1792, where
Judge Story was one of his pupils.
Harvard gave him a degree in 1803.
He was the author of a " Mercantile
Arithmetic," 1801, and a "New Sys-
tem of Bookkeeping," 1826. The
name Walsh or Welch is a ver}-
common one in Ireland; like the
others mentioned, it is now prett}-
well Americanized, having been here
from the first. Hon. Patrick Walsh,
editor of the CJironidc, Augusta, Ga.,
and ex-United States senator, is the
representative in the society.

James Smith, one of the immortal
signers of 1776, was a native of Ire-
land. Hon. Joseph Smith of Lowell,
Mass., represents not only the name,
but as well the Irish Presbyterian
element, and would resent the idea
that he is anything but a plain Irish-
man without the prefix which so
many American descendants of Irish
Smiths love to dwell upon. Gen.
Thomas A. Smythe, a native of Cork,
Ireland, one of the last commanders
of the Irish brigade, and the very last
general officer killed in the Civil War,
was another worthy representative of
that name.

Gen. Roche de P'ermo}^ held a
commission as brigadier in the Con-
tinental army. He was a descendant

I50

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAE SOCIETY

of the Irish Roches who went to
France with the "wild geese." One
of the representatives of the name in
the society is James Jeffrey Roche,
editor of the Boston Piiof. His
brother w^as one of the United States
naval officers lost at the time of the
great tidal wave in Samoa, a few
years ago.

Among the governors of Irish
birth, or of direct Irish origin, dur-
ing the colonial or revolutionary
periods, were David Dunbar and
John Sullivan, of New Hampshire;
Thomas Dongan and James Clinton,
of New York ; James Sullivan of
Massachusetts ; John Houston, John
Martin, and Peter Early, of Georgia ;
John McKinley, Thomas Collins,
John Collins, and Joseph Haslett,
of Delaware ; John Hart of Mary-
land ; James lyOgan, George Bryan,
William Moore, Joseph Reed, and
Thomas McKean, of Pennsylvania;
James Moore, John and Edward Rut-
ledge, of South Carolina ; Mathew
Rowan and Thomas Burke, of North
Carolina ; and William Welsh and
William Patterson, of New Jersey.

Ramsey's "History of the United
States " has been mentioned. When it
was written, it is evident that the au-
thor looked to those of his own blood
largely, for material aid. A list of
the subscribers to the work is printed
in the first edition, and among them
are the following names, most assur-
edly Irish enough, so far as appear-
ance is concerned : New York —
Thomas Addis Emmett, Mathew Car-
roll, Philip Whelpley ; Delaware —
Katherine Mulligan ; Maryland —
James Doyle, J. W. McP'adden,
Charles O'Neil, John I). Foy ; Wash-
ington, D. C. — ^John Boyle, Andrew
Boyle, Daniel Fagan, Andrew Flem-

ing, William Hicke\', John Mcl/eod,
William Macklin, Bernard O'Neil,
John Riley ; Virginia — William Car-
roll, Edward Cunningham, Patrick
Gill, John McDermott, John Mc-
Bride, M. Sullivan, Francis D. Rior-
dan, Peter Horry ; North Carolina —
H. H. Cannon, John Carey, J. M.
Patrick, John Cowan, A. C. Gurley,
A. H. Ginley, Hanson Kelley, John
Carney, James McElhinney, J. A.
Moore, John McDonald, Hugh Mc-
Guire, A. D. Murphy, Harvey Bry-
an ; South Carolina — C. T. Butler,
Lydia Bryan, N. C. Cleary, Barthol-
omew Carroll, Richard Cunningham,
Catherine Fitzsimmons, Christopher
Fitzsimmons, Daniel Flood, Richard
Fair, Andrew Flynn, Harriet Horry,
Thomas Horry, Peter Murphy, Rich-
ard McCormick, Samuel Nolan, Cor-
nelius O'Driscoll, Dennis O'Driscoll,
Henry O'Hara, Thomas N. Egan,
Peter McGuire, John Murphy, Joseph
Kelly, Patrick Noble, John Belton
O'Neil, John McComb, Timothy
Dargan ; Georgia — Patrick N. Cams,
Richard Bolan, Patrick Catlin, John
Eogan, Robert Malone, Daniel Mur-
phy, J. S. Bryan.

It may not seem necessary to take
up space for the insertion of the fore-
going names, but for obvious reasons
it is essential. It will be noticed that
nearly one half of the entire number
were from South Carolina, and right
here it seems to be proper to mention
that at the Battle of Bull Run in July,
1 86 1, at one time during the engage-
ment, the Sixty-ninth New York,
the members of which were nearly
all of Irish birth, were confronted by
the Eighth South Carolina, the offi-
cers of which must have been largely
of Irish origin. The colonel was
E. B. S. Cash, Ueut-Col. J. W.

THE A MERICAN-IRISH HIS TOKICAL SOCIET) '. 151

Henagin, Quartermaster, Capt. J. C. vStates senator. This venerable man

McClenaghan, and Captains Har- is mentioned in " McGee's Irish Set-

rington, Hoole, P'lood, and McLeod. tiers in America," written over half a

The battery attached to the regiment century ago. His brother, Patrick

was commanded by Captain Shields, H. Sharkey, was one of the wealthi-

and his first lieutenant was McCar- est planters, as well as one of the most

thy. Colonel Corcoran of the Sixty- influential men in the state. The

ninth New York was taken prisoner last Confederate governor of Alabama

by Adjutant B. H. Burke of the was Harris Flannegan, an American,

Thirtieth Virginia Cavalry, a case of four or five generations removed from

"Greek meet Greek." Ireland. A careful comparison of all

In no one of the original thirteen the above with the membership roll

colonies were men of Irish origin of the society will prove the kinship

more prominent than in the Palmetto of both.

state. In addition to Edanus Burke, The historian of the Shannon fam-

the first chief justice, and Pierce But- ily in New Hampshire said that the

ler, the first United States senator, name is the modern form of the Gae-

mentioned, James Moore, a descend- lie Shannahan. The first to arrive in

ant of the gallant Rory O'Moore, was New Hampshire, George Shannon,

governor in i70o-'o3 and in 1719; long before the beginning of the

John Rutledge in i775-'78 and 1782; eighteenth century, was a brother of

Edward Rutledge, 1 799-1 800; George the lord mayor of Dublin, Ireland.

McDuffee, i834-'36; Pierce M. But- Rev. Edmund T. Shannahan, of the

ler, i836-'38; Patrick Noble, 1838- Catholic University, Washington, is

'40: B. K. Hannegan, i840-'42; the society's representative.

William Aiken, i844-'46; A. G. When Col. David Dunbar was lieu-

Magrath, 1 864-' 65 ; James L. Orr, tenant-governor of New Hampshire

1 866-' 69. John C. Calhoun, vice- about the middle of the eighteenth

president of the United States, was century, he established several col-

the son of Patrick Calhoun, an Irish onies of his countrymen in Maine,

emigrant. When the question of se- His first town he named Cork ; it is

cession was proposed to the citizens now Bath. Among those who came

of Mississippi, none opposed it more over was a Presbyterian minister, the

strenuously than the Hon. William Rev. John Murray. He is mentioned

ly. Sharkey, of Irish birth and of the in the records of the Massachusetts

Catholic faith. When the ordinance Historical society as a man "with a

was adopted, he withdrew to his plan- kindly Irish heart." Around him

tation. He was advanced in years, at the same time were the O'Briens,

He was so universall}^ respected that Higgins, Donnells, etc. Thomas

he was in no way molested. On the H. Murray, secretarj^-general, is the

triumph of the Union cause in 1S63, representative of the society,

the United States government drew Phelan is one of the oldest names in

him from his retirement and made Georgia. A standard history' of that

him the first provisional governor of state was written by one of that name,

his adopted state. He was later, Hon. John J. Phelan of Bridgeport is

after the war, chosen the first Ignited one of the representatives.

IS2

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

Henry Grady, whose eloquence
electrified thousands and whose early
death brought sorrow to the entire
country, was of the same stock of the
clan O'Grady.

Among those who fell at the Battle
of Fort George under command of
Sir William Johnson, was Captain
McGinnis, of New York. Hon.
E. D. McGuinness, mayor of Provi-
dence, is a member of the society.

Michael Hoban, an Irishman, was
the architect of the White House in
Washington, a pretentious mansion
at the time it was built.

James McHenry, a native of Dub-
lin, a graduate of Trinity college
and a representative of one of the
most ancient Munster clans, the Mc-
Eneirys — modern McHenry, Mc-
Nairy, or McNeary — came over here
before the Revolution. He was a
brigadier-general in the Continental
army, Washington's military secre-
tary, one of the first secretaries of
war, if not the first, and Fort Mc-
Henry in Baltimore is named for him.

Brannan or Brennan is one of the
pioneer names of America. Samuel
Brannan was one of California's first
settlers. One of the principal streets
in San Francisco is named for him.
Maj.-Gen. John M. Brannan, a West
Pointer, was a distinguished Union
officer during the Civil War. Michael
Brennan, of New York, and J. V.
Brennan, of New Hampshire, repre-
sent the family. Thomas Dolan,
of Irish descent, of Philadelphia, is
the leading manufacturer of woolens
and worsteds in America. Patrick J.
Dolan of Cleveland, O., represents
the society.

Cochrane is a name distinguished
in the annals of Great Britain, Ire-
land, and America. It was known

either in its present or ancient form
in Ireland, or the highlands of Scot-
land, long before the Saxons came to
P^ngland. Gen. John Cochrane, of
New York, president of the New
York branch Sons of the American
Revolution, is the society's represen-
tative.

It seems unnecessary to allude in
this article to the part taken by men,
whose Irish origin will not be ques-
tioned, in the late war. Sheridan
was of Irish parentage on both sides.
This fact is of common knowledge.
Grant, through his maternal ances-
tors, had in his veins the blood of
the Kellys and the Simpsons, his
mother and grandmother bearing
those names, and both of Irish ex-
traction. Vice - Admiral Stephen
Rowan was born in Ireland. In the
navy he was second only to Farragut.
The latter had a Spanish father, and
if a name is an index of nationality,
his mother, Elisabeth Shine, of North
Carolina, must have been of Irish de-
scent.

It is needless to go aiiy further.
What has been written is sufficient to
prove what has been said at the out-
set. The great majorit}' of the names
given are unmistakably Irish in char-
acter, but the men who bore them
were no more or no less Irish than
thousands of others who came from
Ireland, and who bore names in ap-
pearance not Irish, — men either pa-
ternally of English, German, P'rench,
or Scandinavian origin, but who
were, so far as blood is concerned,
no different from the others, for the
Irishman of the past centur}^ is made
up of all the races planted in Ire-
land. Armstrong, Morgan, Maxwell,
Reed, Knox, Clinton, Montgomery,
Wayne, Eewis, Thompson, and Ir-

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

153

vine, who were of Irish birth or par-
entage, generals in the Continental
army, or Stewart, Blakel}-, and others
who had distinguished themselves in
the navy, were as thoroughly Irish as
Sullivan, whose mother's name was
Brown, or Barry, who came from the
centre of the ' ' English pale. ' ' If the
descendants of the Saxons who had
settled in Scotland became Scotch,
why cannot the offspring of the same
people settled in Ireland become
Irish? This thought is worthy of
consideration for those who can see
objects but from one standpoint.

Nearly every town historian in
New Hampshire claims that the peo-
ple who came here from Ireland be-
fore the beginning of the nineteenth
century were of Scotch origin, and
to quote one of their eloquent advo-
cates, "they were English in tongue,
Irish in nothing," or to use the words
of another, who bears a name as
Saxon as Muldoon : "The 'Scotch-
Irish ' were different from the Irish
in blood, language, morals, and re-
ligion," and this statement was made
with the presumption that the Scotch
were of Saxon origin.

But right here is where they differ
from all standard writers of works
devoted to the early history of the
two countries, Ireland and Scotland,
and as well from the vScots them-
selves, who glory in their Gaelic an-
cestry. A Pan-Celtic gathering of
the Scots residing in the Dominion
of Canada was held in Toronto last
September. There were present rep-
resentatives of nearly every name
borne by those who came here from
the north of Ireland, yet they sang
the praises of their Gaelic ancestors,
their Celtic origin, and the inscrip-
tions hung around the walls of the

banqueting room were in Gaelic,
among them the famous Irish ' ' Cead
Millafaultha." A full account of
this meeting, copied from the Toronto
Globe, was published in the Concord
Evening Monitor the same month.
That there are Americans of the same
opinion as to the origin of the Scotch-
Irish, the following extract from an
address delivered before the annual
Scotch- Irish convention a few years
ago, by Alexander McClure of Phila-
delphia, is evidence. There is to-
day no better-informed writer on this,
or any other subject, than this vet-
eran newspaper man, in whose veins
runs the same Gaelic blood. He
said :

" Some of our more thoughtful his-
torians or students of history will pre
tend to tell j'ou when the Scotch-
Irish race began.

" I have not heard even our Scotch-
Irishmen who have studied the ques-
tion do the subject justice. No such
race of men could be created in a
generation ; no such achievements
could be born in a century. No such
people as the Scotch- Irish could be
completed even in centur}' after cen-
tury ; and while you are told that the
Scotch-Irish go back in their achieve-
ments to the days of John Knox,
John Knox lived a thousand 3'ears
after the formation of the Scotch-Irish
character began. It was like the
stream of your western desert that
comes from the mountains and makes
the vallej^s beautiful and green and
fragrant, and then is lost in the sands
of the desert. Men will tell you that
it disappears and is lost. It is not.
After traversing perhaps hundreds of
miles of subterranean passages, for-
gotten, unseen, it is still doing its
work, and it rises again before it

154

THE AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

reaches the sea, and again makes
new fields green and beautiful and
bountiful. It required more than a
thousand years to perfect the Scotch-
Irish character. It is of a creation
single from all races of mankind, and
a creation not of one people nor of
one century, nor even five centuries,
but a thousand j^ears of mingled
effort and sacrifice, ending in the
sieges of Derry, were required to pre-
sent to the world the perfect Scotch-
Irish character. If you would learn
when the characteristics of the
Scotch- Irish race began, go back a
thousand years beyond the time of
John Knox, and find that there was a
crucial test that formed the men, that
perfected the Scotch-Irish character
after years and years of varying con-
flict and success, until the most stub-
born, the most progressive, the most
aggressive race in achievement was
given to the world. I^et us go back
to the sixth century, and what do we
find? We find Ireland the birth-
place of the Scotch-Irish. We find
Ireland foremost of all the nations of
the earth, not only in religious prog-
ress, but in literature, and for two
centuries thereafter the teacher of the
world in all that made men great and
achievements memorable. For two

centuries, the Irish of Ireland, in
their own green land , were the teach-
ers of men, not only in religion, but
in science, in learning, and in all
that made men great. She had her
teachers and her scientists, men who
filled her pulpits and went to every
nation surrounding ; and it was there
that the Scotch-Irish characteristics
became evident which afterward made
them felt wherever they have gone.
Those Irish were teachers of religion,
and 5^et as stubborn for religious free-
dom as were the Scotch- Irish.

"Catholic, they often refused obe-
dience to the Pope. They were men
of conviction ; they were men of
learning. They were the advanced
outposts of the progressive civiliza-
tion of that day, and the cardinal
doctrine of their faith, down deep-
set in the heart, was absolute reli-
gious freedom, and they even com-
bated the Vatican in maintaining
their religious rights." [Colonel
McDowell, of Virginia, said in the
same convention that when the Scots
came to Ireland after the Reforma-
tion, they but returned to their old
home.] With this eloquent extract,
the introduction of the American-
Irish Historical society to the public
is concluded.

BRINGING WATER FOR THE WOMEN FOEKS TO WASH.

By Clara Augusta Trask.

In the days when I was young, and all the world seemed made for me,
And life was one long ronnd of joy, and I was glad and free —
When I lived upon the farm high-perched upon the breezy heights,
Where eagles screamed in hoarse discord, and winged their dizz}- flights —
The days were full of sunshine warm, the nights were sweet with sleep,
And I brushed the dew-drops from the grass with bare and restless feet.

I liked to fish the leaping brooks for fish I hoped were there,

I liked to climb the highest hill to seek the spruce gum, where

The pointed firs and spruces laid their tops against the sky.

And the flying squirrels brought their stores when winter time drew nigh,

And when the maples shed their blood, what joy it was to tramp

The crunching snow, and gather sap, and bring it to the camp !

But I dreaded, oh, I dreaded, when Monday was at hand,

And Father roused me early, with the autocrat command —

" 'T is time to stir j-ourself, my lad ! Be lively, now, I sa^^

When I was young, boys did n't doze the forenoon all away !

Get up this minute, and come down — say? Do n't you hear me, Josh ?

Get up, and draw the water for the women folks to wash ! "

Oh, the old well 'neath the branches of the sycamore's green shade.
With its mossy curb and sloping sweep a charming picture made —
And the water, clear, pellucid, at the bottom cool and dim —
But it needed lots of muscle to draw it to the brim ;
And, as slowly I went outward, sharp I heard the cry of — " Josh,
Hurry up, and bring the water for the women folks to wash ! "

Oh, the floods of water that it took to make those garments clean !
Oh, the weary pails and pails I dragged across that back yard green!
Oh, how leaden crawled the sluggish hours from half past five till nine,
When those diabolical "white things" were swinging on the line!
And sometimes, now, I hear in dreams, the voice that called me, "Josh,
Get up, and bring the water for the women folks to wash ! "

GEORGE WASHINGTON ARMSTRONG.

By Hetiry Robinson.

HE life of George Wash-
ington Armstrong has
caught and reflected
much sunshine. He is
a widel}' known, highly
respected, and eminentl}^ useful citi-
zen, an affable, unassuming, and 5'et
very important factor in the round of
momentous affairs. He is one of
those discerning philosophers who
has found the world a fact rather
than a fancy, and has gone to work
cheerfully and legitimately to make
the best of it. He is a thorough-
ly cultured, wholesome, handsome,
sound-hearted gentleman, a genial,
ideal, up-to-date man of the old
.school of small beginnings, patience,
persistence, rounded and honorable
success. Not that he is in the "sere
and yellow leaf," — far from it, for
old age is a relative term, and such
men as George W. Armstrong never
grow old. In years, he is only sixty-
one, but in varied experience a thou-
sand, and he has an inestimable fund
of native good sense, bigger even
than his very considerable material
wealth, acquired wdth the most com-
mendable industry, devotion, and en-
terprise.

Biography is prone to find her
favorites amongst what are some-
times styled the higher callings, —
the pulpit, the law, literature, and
politics, — but the upright, broad-
gauged, practical business manager
is an essential column of support in
the arching temple of our compre-
hensiv^e civilization. Scientific and

classical learning are onh' the super-
structure. Around this pillar of
strength cling and cluster all the
vines of poesy and fine art. The
men who produce things and move
things are the giants of priority and
power. They are the rightful mas-
ters of mankind.

It is said of Bonaparte that he was
the idol of common men, because he
had in transcendent degree the qual-
ities and powers of common men.

George W. Armstrong came of a
proverbiall)^ sturdy and resolute race,
a worthy people, — modest, plain, pre-
possessing, — whose instincts, voca-
tions, and aspirations were honorable,
a sterling ancestry capable of true
heroism, with a generous spirit of
self-sacrifice, and 3'et with a force
and determination of character sug-
gestive of moral grandeur.

Had Mr. Armstrong ransacked the
universe in search of the most desira-
ble place in which to be born, he
would have chosen Boston, Mass.,
where he first saw the light, Au-
gust II, 1836. Such, however, was
the original association and is the
present relationship between the two
states, and such are Mr. Armstrong's
properties and interests and his at-
tachment for the people in the Gran-
ite state, where he has his attractive
summer home, on our own Winni-
pesaukee, and where the hills and
dales, lakes, and streams, have for
him such an enthusiastic infatuation,
that we are glad to have acceded to
us the right, in common with our sis-

158

GEORGE 1 J :-i SHIXG 7 ON A RMS TRONG .

ter commonwealth, to be especiall}^
proud of his charming personality and
to be benefited with the public in gen-
eral by his commendable usefulness.

Indeed, Windham, N. H.. had
been the ancestral home of his fam-
ily since 1722, or before, when his
migrating ancestor. Charter Robert

"Giinockie" — Summer Residence of George W. Armstrong, at Centre Harbor

Armstrong of lyondonderry, N. H.,
first landed on American shores.

In the romantic Lowlands of Scot-
land, near the , English border, lived
the historic and powerful clan, Arm-
strong, for many fleeting centuries, the
entertaining story of which has been
graphically told by Hon. Leonard A.
Morrison, in an early number of this
magazine. Offshoots of this clan,
during the seventeenth century,
joined the Ulster plantation in Ire-
land, and, later, one of them, Robert
Armstrong, appeared here in New
Hampshire. On this side, Mr. Arm-
-strong is of Scotch blood. On his
mother's side, he is a direct descend-
ant of a brother of the Pilgrim gover-
nor, Edward Winslow, of the Ply-
mouth colony.

The names of his parents were

David Armstrong, who married Ma-
halia Lovering. The former was a
native of Windham, N. H., who be-
came a resident of Boston in 1825,
and worked at ship-building until
1850, when he became sick, and died
in 1851, leaving only a very small
estate. Miss Lovering was a native
of Loudon, N. H.
' George received his

education in the pub-
lic schools of his na-
ti\'e city, Boston. He
, was a bright pupil at

the " Old Hawes Gram-
l''^^ mar," of which he still

* entertains many pleas-

ant memories. Of its
' ' association ' ' he has
been president, and
continues an influen-
tial and active mem-
ber, and a contribu-
tor financially to its
support.
The school life of Mr. Armstrong
was clouded by the illness and death
of his parent, and his active contin-
uous business life began of neces-
sity when he was only fourteen j^ears
of age, and for many years he main-
tained a brave, unflinching, and ex-
ceedingly creditable struggle against
the current of events. He was well
equipped, however, with a robust
physique, a happy disposition, a re-
markable resolution, an indefatigable
courage, an integrity that never has
been tarnished, and a wonderful te-
nacity of purpose which has charac-
terized his whole career.

He was a penny-postman in South
Boston in 1850. This was when the
boy found himself without anybody
to provide for him. He could go to
school no more, but must work, as

GEORGE WASFUNGTON ARMSTRONG.

159

other boys worked, for a liv-
ing. He made up his mind
that he could deliver letters
and other things to people.
This was long before the
days when a man in Boston,
on his way home in the even-
ing, could drop a letter in a
little red box attached to an
iron pole, on a corner of a
city street, and drink his cof-
fee at breakfast next morn-
ing while he reflects that a
man in New York is reading
his letter at his breakfast. vSome-
bod)^ suggests that it was perhaps in
those days that George Armstrong
conceived the notion that people
would be glad to have things carried
to them even more promptl)^ and that
they would be walling to pay for the
delivery, for in after years he be-
came rich in conducting an extensive
project of this kind.

His next business venture was that
of a newsbo}^ and to this day he is
pleased to be recognized as the "vet-
eran newsbo}%" and it is safe to say
that there is not a newsboy in any
city or running on any railway train
in the United States, who knows the
story of the earl}' life of Mr. Arm-

Hall at " Gilnockie.

Dining-Room at "Gilnockie."

strong, who is not his warm admirer,
champion, and friend.

He was first employed on the South
Boston Gazette, the Sunday Nc7cs,
and his field was especially along the
sidewalks of State street. This was
in 1 85 1. He also had charge of
filing the papers in the Democratic
reading-room in Congress square.
This and his State street work occu-
pied his time until the spring of 1S52,
when he became a railroad newsboy
under George Bailey, who controlled
the business of the old Boston &
Worcester road. His work began at
five o'clock in the morning and ended
at nine in the evening. His daily
time of service was greater than now,
although at present his,
as e m p 1 o y e r, is the
greater responsibility.

An acquaintance of
Mr. Armstrong tells
the story that not long
ago, when he was
traveling on a crowded
train, he fetched some
water to a thirsty wom-
an, who meeting him a
few weeks later remind-
ed him of the incident
by him forgotten. She

i6o

GEORGE WASHINGTON ARMSTRONG.

complimented him on his skill as a
water boy, and his wife, who was
near, said nobody should wonder at
his skill, — it was forty years before
that he had started in the business,
being the original "water boy" of
the railroads.

In the capacity of newsboy on the
road, Mr. Armstrong remained nine
years, rendering faithful service. In
1861, he left the newspaper route be-
tween Boston and Worcester, and
was employed in the dining-room in

after two months at the brake, he
was promoted to be baggageman.
This is one reason why Mr. Arm-
strong has so strong a sympathy for
the large class of employes that have
to do with baggage. At the expira-
tion of a second two months he was
again promoted, this time to a con-
ductor's berth, and the trials, troub-
les, tribulations, and triumphs of a
conductor he will remember alwa3^s.
He held the position one year, or
until July, 1863.

•ilM

. -*-

Miss Ethel and Master Robert Armstrong.

the Boston station of the road until
spring. Thus he obtained practical
experience in a railway restaurant,
and it is undoubtedly true that he
was as loyal to his duty then as he
was before and has been invariably
since. But he was a young man,
and desiring to do a man's work, he
secured a situation as brakeraan on
the same road over which he had
traveled so many years. Thus it
may be seen that Mr. Armstrong has
something in common with every
brakeman in the land.

His advancement was rapid, and

His love for the newspaper business
had not deserted him, and this year he
bought a half-interest in the business
which he had helped build as a boy.
The proprietor at the time was H. L.
Whiting ; the enterprise had grown
to considerable magnitude. In 1870,
he succeeded to the entire business,
and added to it the dining-room in
the Boston station.

In 1865, he bought King's express
business, which was confined to the
Boston & Worcester road. He ini-
mediatel}' changed its name to Arm-
strong's Transfer, and began the

GEORGE WASHINGTON ARMSTRONG.

i6i

work which the new name implied.
With two coaches and a Berlin car-
riage, he transferred between the
Boston & Worcester station and the
railway stations at the North end of
the q\\.\ . Railway baggage was con-
veniently checked from one station
to another, with other features for
the accommodation of persons who
journeyed by railroad. Passenger-
coaches became valuable adjuncts to
the fast-growing system.

In 1882, he organized the Arm-
strong Transfer company, and be-
came its president. All New Eng-
land realizes the capacity and facility
of this wonderful system, its prompt-
ness, efhciency, correctness, and free-
dom from friction.

In 1869, Mr. Armstrong bought
the news business of the Fitchburg
railroad, and, in 1877, extended it
over the entire Hoosac Tunnel line.
In 1875, he extended his restaurant
and newspaper business over the
Eastern road, being proprietor of the
dining-rooms and news rooms in Bos-
ton, Mass., Portsmouth and Wolfe-
borough Junction, N. H., Portland,
Me., and at Springfield, Pittsfield,
Palmer, and South Framingham, on
the Boston & Albany. Eater, he
acquired control of these departments
over the entire line, and over the
whole system, with only few excep-
tions, of the Boston & Maine. The
news department of the Fitchburg
road, the restaurants and news bus-
iness of the Boston, Revere Beach
& Eynn road, and the restaurant
business over part of the Old Colony,
were afterward united to his rapidly
broadening territory, which now in-
cludes hundreds of miles of railway
lines, in various directions, being one
of the best managed and equipped.

as well as one of the largest com-
panies in the service of the public.

Mr. Armstrong has copied from no
other system, and his methods of
conducting all branches of work are
simple and original. He is uniformly
courteous, and requires the same
courtesy from his employes to the
great public upon whom he depends
for custom. His employes may be
found almost everywhere, and their
number runs up into the hundreds in
the express, newspaper, and dining-
room branches of his comprehensive
management.

While Mr. Armstrong is one of
the busiest of busy men, he never-
theless finds time to give attention
to many things outside his regular
work at the head of the great con-
cern of which he is the originator
and founder. He is a director as
well as an owner in various corpora-
tions, including different large rail-
road companies. He has read wide-
ly in general literature, and exercises
a very scholarly taste in his selection
of books, of the merits of which and
their authors he is an uncommonly
good judge. He also has a fond-
ness for and fine appreciation of
statuary, paintings, and other works
of art.

He is a superior converser, a very
entertaining companion, and an affec-
tionate friend, who has drawn many
hearts to him ia lasting regard. His
early friends are still his friends, and
many of them are of high standing
and influence.

With an impressive presence, he is
sweet-tempered, gentle, and graceful;
one of his missions in life seems to be
to be friendly with everybod5\ No
better type, no higher standard of a
business man can be found in New

l62

GEORGE WASHINGTON ARMSTRONG.

England, or one more public-spirited
or with a finer sense of honor.

He is not what might be called a
club man, although he belongs to
several associations, being a life
member of the Bostonian society,
and a member of the Beacon society
of Boston. He is affectionately de-
voted to his family, and it is at his
own hearthstone that he takes the
greatest pleasure. On December
lo, 1868, he married Miss lyouise

line, Mass., where he with his accom-
plished wife and unmarried children
live on a very pretty estate, it being
one of the wealthiest and loveliest
suburban towns in the United States.
Mrs. Armstrong's father. Dr. Reu-
ben Greene, is the well-known phy-
sician of Boston, who retired from the
active practice of his profession four-
teen years ago, and now devotes him-
self to the care of his real estate, di-
verting himself now and then with

The Armstro

Marston, of Bridgewater, N. H. She
died, February 17, 1880; and on De-
cember 12, 1882, he married Miss
Flora E., daughter of Dr. Reuben
Greene, of Boston. His children are
Mabelle, born February 21, 1870;
Eouise, born October 22, 187 1, died
December 22, 1876; Ethel, born
June 7, 1884; George Robert, born
December 10, 1888. Mabelle mar-
ried Frank Edward vShepard, their
home being in Denver, Col.

Mr. Armstrong resided in Boston
till 1875, when he removed to Brook-

ng Buckboard.

authorship, being a clear and origi-
nal thinker, and a strong, lucid
writer. He is also the father of Dr.
Frank E. Greene of Boston and of
our own Col. J. Alonzo Greene of
Eong Island, on Eake Winnipesau-
kee, where he and his brother, as
well as Mr. Armstrong, have valuable
estates, and who have done much to
beautify and improve the country.

Mr. Armstrong may be seen almost
daily, through the summer season,
about his grounds at "Gilnockie,"
his elegant resort at Centre Harbor,

GEORGE WASHINGTON ARMSTRONG.

163

consulting with his men, in building
roads, erecting and repairing build-
ings, giving the same attention to
detail that has marked his whole ca-
reer. It is not an infrequent thing
to see him on the quarter-deck of the
steamer Mount Washington, — not in
the pilot-house, but chatting with the
captain, each giving his opinion to
the other, as to how far a certain
buoy may be out of place, or where a
new warning signal should be located,
his analytical and discerning mind
being never at rest in its concern for
the welfare of others. Only little, if
anything, escapes his sagacious ob-
servation, and whether as newsboy,
or baggageman, or conductor on the
train, or railroad manager and mag-
nate, or proprietor of the news and
dining branches at passenger stations
throughout New England, or in his
family circle, he is the same consid-
erate, sympathetic, superior man,
that has won the highest respect and
regard, not only from those who hold
him near and dear, but from the
great traveling public whom he has
served so long and so faithfully.

Miss Ethel, the daughter of Mr.
and Mrs. Armstrong, is an intelli-
gent girl, of agreeable temperament
and prepossessing manners. Her
brother. Master Robert, is a lively
and interesting lad, in whom is cen-
tered much of hope and promise.
They attend the pul^lic schools at
Brookline, and Mr. Armstrong is a
champion of the public school system.
When he was a public school bo)'
himself at Boston, the month of Au-
gust was then given for a vacation,
and his mother was wont to send him
to their old home in New Hampshire
to spend it, and it was then that he
learned to delight in the scenery, to

enjoy the invigorating atmosphere,
to love the people whose friendship
and esteem he has ever since cher-
ished. His mother, a noble old lady,
is a member of her son's family, be-
ing now eighty-seven years of age,
but with her cultured intellect un-
clouded, and in a wonderful physical
preservation.

The ease and grace with which
Mr. Armstrong meets those who have
occasion to call upon him have caused
much favorable comment. He pos-
sesses a happy union of faculties, a
thorough knowledge of human na-
ture and of its possibilities and worth,
born of long experience and hard
knocks. He is tolerant, conserva-
tive, kindly in his opinions, and
charitable in his estimates of his fel-
low-men. In his presence, while one
feels perfectly at home, there is a
consciousness of a great reserve pow-
er, a fertility and resource far be-
yond the average individual; but his
great genius is his capacity for con-
centration, for work, and his grand-
est forte in life has been his fidelity
to the interests of his employers, his
persistence in doing well whatever he
has in hand. But existence for him
is far from being monotonous, the
swinging of a door to and fro on its
hinges, for he has a versatility of in-
tellect, an adaptation to society, an
appreciation of wit, humor, and anec-
dote, a fondness for romance, which
have relieved the tedium and broken
the monotony of large business re-
sponsibilities. By an admirable reg-
ularity of habit, he has been enabled
to carry the great stress upon him,
with a calmness of spirit, a complai-
sance of mind, a mental and physical
equipoise worthy of universal emula-
tion.

Centre Harbor, frnm Garnet Hill.

CENTRE HARBOR.

By Clay en ce JoJinson.

Should you go to Centre Harbor,
As haplj' you sometime may,

Sailing up the Winnipesaukee
From the hills of Alton Bay,

Into the heart of the highlands,

Into the north wind free.
Through the rising and vanishing islands,

Over the mountain sea,

To the little hamlet, lying
White in its mountain fold.

Asleep by the lake, and dreaming
A dream that is never told."

— Mil it tier.

The Whittier Pine.

^HOUED you go to Centre
Harbor to-day you will
find "the little hamlet,"
"white in its mountain
fold," still dreaming, onl}^
semi-conscious of the toiling, strug-
gling world vaguely known to exist
beyond the hazy veil which softens
the distant view across the beautiful
lake. You probably would not sail
"from the hills of Alton Bay,"
but by steamer from The Weirs.
Having gone to Centre Harbor, you
would soon insensibly yield to the
influence of the peaceful somno-
lency which seems to pervade every

CENTRE HARBOR.

165

nook and cranny of the
place, and join in the
sweet sleep, the sooth-
ing dream, which bring
rest alike to weary mus-
cles and overwrought
brain. The only break
in the quiet of the "lit-
tle hamlet " is when the
steamer from The Weirs
comes pufhng and snort-
ing to the dock, and de-
livers her load of pas-
sengers and baggage
and freight. On these
occasions there is a sort
of half awakening. Na-

Centre Harbor in 1842.

Residence of D. W. Cos.

tives and summer boarders appear at
the wharf to welcome the coming and
speed the parting guests ; and then
the steamer goes on its noisy way,
and the incident is merged into the
" dream that is never told."

All this makes Centre Harbor the
ideal resort for the city workers.
Here is rest, absolute rest, where
the shriek of the locomotive is never
heard, where the electric trolley
never slays the unwary, where the

Across tho Lake, from Senter House.

i66

CENTRE HARBOR.

and last, but not least, of
a pleasant, kindly, hos-
pitable people.

O city folk, shake from
your feet the dust of pave-
ment, leave behind j^ou
the crowded thorough-
fares, the superheated
masses of stone and
brick, the never-ending
lines of trolley cars, the
heavy carts rattling over
cobble pavements, the
endless noises which dis-
tress you by day and rob

The Moulton House.

hum of the factory is unknown, but
where Nature at her best is on every
hand to solace, to cheer, to rehabili-
tate. Here the shattered nerves in-
sensibly regain their tone, and health
and vigor come while you dream. In
your dream are visions of delightful
sails on the lake, of bathing in its
clear water, of strings of black bass,
of drives through shady roads, midst
scenery so grand that it seems en-
chantment rather than dreamland.

The Congregational Churcn.

you of sleep at night, —
leave these far behind
you, go to Centre Har-
bor, in the " heart of the
highlands," and for a
time forget the troubles
and vexations of life in
that region of almost
perfect peace.

The Village Sauare.

Centre Harbor is not
sleepy and dreamy from
old age, nor are there
any signs of decay or
deterioration. The dwel-
ling-houses are all kept in

CENTRE HARBOR.

167

good repair, the grounds
are neatl}^ cared for, and
the man)' summer cot-
tages add a pleasing
variety to the general
architecture. The de-
lightful conditions re-
ferred to by the poet are
the result of location
and environment. The
silent grandeur of lake
and mountain scenerj^
has had its inevitable
effect on the charac-
teristics of the people.

In a business sense, the town is
alive, for its business is the care of
summer visitors, and its very quiet
and somnolence are among; its chief
attractions.

The Senter House.

The first petition for incorporation,

made in 1788, was signed by Benning

Moulton and fifty others, but was not

granted. The signers of the second

Centre Harbor is really and successful petition were Ezekiel

Morse, C. Sturtevant, John Pain,
John Hawkins, Chase Robinson, Jesse
Sturtevant, John Sturtevant, Hosea
Sturtevant, Amos Pain, Jr., Stephen
Hawkins, John Knowles, A. B.
Glines, Nehemiah Lee, Benning
Moulton, Daniel Page, Moses Morse,
Hugh Kelsea, Joseph Kenney, Dan-
iel Norris, Robert Kelsea, James
Tebbetts, Caleb Towle, Perez Sturte-

Steamor Mt. Washington.

youthful, as towns go,
for though its first set-
tler, Moses Senter, came
here in 1763, it was not
incorporated as a town
until December 7, 1797,
and its first town meet-
ing was held on March
12, 179S. It was set off
from New Hampton, the
location of the present
village having been
known as "Centre-har-
bor " for some years
previous to its incorpo-
ration.

Residence of Frank H. Morse.

i68

CENTRE HARBOR.

vant, James Little, W.
Robinson, W. Pain, Wil-
liam Berry, Jonathan
Robinson, Joshua Pain,
Jeremiah Tovvle, Pelham
Sturtev^ant, Joseph Moul-
ton, J. M. Pain, Abel
Morse, Moses K else a.
Smith Cram, Joshua Nor-
ris, Benjamin Sturtevant,
John Pain, Jr., Isaac
Morse, James Tovvle,
Wadleigh Cram, Joseph
Senter, E. Chamberlain,
C. Hawkins, Stephen

Residence of J. S. Graves.

'JstijL^i^SSlim.^

The Currier Cottage.

The Sheafe Cottage.

1^-

'W^^^

Red Hill, from the Meredith Road.

Kenney, Amos Pain.

There has been some con-
troversy as to the proper spell-
ing of the word ' ' Centre ' ' and
its derivation, .some contend-
ing that it should be " Sen-
ter's" harbor, from the name
of the original settler, instead
of "Centre" harbor, from the
fact that it is the centre of
three lake harbors, Moulton-
borough harbor being on the
east and Meredith harbor on

CENTRE HARBOR.

169

the west. The late Hon. Isaac W.
Hammond of Concord, who was con-
sidered an authority on state histori-
cal matters, prepared a paper on this
subject, which was printed in the
Granite Monthly, of February,
1 88 1. After a learned and exhaus-
tive discussion, he concludes as fol-
lows: "First, that there was a land-

Residence of J. A. Grant.

ing on the lake called Centre Har-
bor some years before the town was
set off, and so called be-
cause it was the centre of
three harbors; second, that
the town took the same
name when it was incorpo-
rated . . . ; third, that
the gentleman who en-
grossed the act of incorpo-
ration was not guilty of the
sin of ignorance . . ."
The present writer does not
contend that the dispute is
settled by this conclusion
of Mr. Hammond, for the
champions of "Senter's"
are probably of the ' ' same

The Lake House.

Opinion still," onl}^ much more so.
There is no doubt, at any rate, that
Mr. Moses Senter of IvOndonderry
was the original settler, and that
with his wife and family he braved
and overcame all the trials and pri-
vations of a frontier existence.

For many 3'ears before the con-
struction of the Boston, Concord &
Montreal railroad. Centre Harbor
was an important point of travel,
being the half-way station on the
once well-known Concord and Frye-
burg stage route. The old tavern oc-

Residence of Frank B. Stanley.

lyo

CENTRE HARBOR.

iS6o, when he was succeeded
by his son-in-law, Mr. S. F.
Emery, its present proprie-
tor. In 1868, the house w^as
remodeled and enlarged, and
later other enlargements and
additions were made, result-
ing in the present commo-
dious structure. The house
has always retained its old-
time popularity both for
transient guests and sum-
mer boarders. For the en-
couragement of forestry, it
may be said here that in
front of the Moulton House
cupied the site of the present Moul- is a row of stately elms, among the
ton House, and many famous men finest shade-trees in the town, which
enjoyed its hospitality while en route have been set out by Mr. Emery dur-
to or from the mountains. In those ing the past thirty-eight years.
days probably two thirds of the The Senter House is one of the
mountain travel came this way. largest and finest summer hotels in
The trip from Concord to Fryeburg, New Hampshire, and is second to
eighty-four miles, was made in one none in point of location and sur-
day, which was then considered re- roundings. Built ten years ago, it is
markably good time. The stage modern in design and equipment,
route was for many years owned by combining elegance and comfort in a

Residence of Dr. W. A, Page.

Glimpses from "Gilnockie.

Jonathan S. Moulton, who also marked degree. This is the new

owned the tavern at Centre Harbor, Senter House. Samuel Senter, son

on the site of the present Moulton of the original settler, Moses Senter,

House. In 1.S4S, the tavern was made his house on the farm now

purchased by his brother, John H. known as the Coe place, a sort of

Moulton, and was kept by him until wayside inn some seventy-five years

CENTRE HARBOR.

171

ago. Then he built a small house
on the site of the present tennis
court, and "kept tavern" there for
some 5'ears. He was succeeded as
landlord by his son-in-law, John Coe,
and he in turn by his son, Curtis S.

Woodbine Cottage, C. H. Sanborn,
proprietor; I^ocust Cottage, B. F.
Kelsea, proprietor; Brown Cottage,
Mrs. B. F. Kelsea, proprietor; Bay
View House, Mrs. G. N. Emery,
proprietor; Fairmount Cottage, Mrs.

A Bit of Shore.

Coe, who sold out to G. W. Gilman
and James L,. Huntress. Later, Mr.
Huntress became sole proprietor, and
under his management the Senter
House was made one of the most
popular and profitable summer hotels
in the state. After his death, his
widow and sons continued to run
the house until it was destroyed by
fire in 1SS7. The present splendid
structure was built by a stock com-
pany in season for the business of
1888, and has since been conducted
by various managers. Its present
landlord, Mr. Charles B. Turner, has
had much experience in the business,
and is making such a success that
with the return of prosperity the Sen-
ter House promi.ses to be one of the
most frequented resorts of the state.
Besides the hotels there are many
smaller boarding-houses, where city
visitors fare as well, if not so luxuri-
ously, as at the more pretentious es-
tablishments. Among them are the
Cambridge house, kept by R. D.
Green, whose guests are mainh' from
Cambridge, Mass., and vicinity;

M. J. Ames, proprietor; Mountain
View House, M. J. Goodwin, pro-
prietor; Maple Cottage, A. S. Moul-
ton, proprietor; and cottages where
boarders are taken, kept by Mrs.
A. M. Graves and Charles Green.
All of these have fine grounds, are
neatly kept, and are filled each sea-
son with desirable guests.

Many wealth}- city people own cot-
tages in Centre Harbor, and others
rent them for the season. Among
these are Mr. George W. Armstrong,
whose cottage "Gilnockie" is re-
ferred to in another article in this
number; the " Sturtevant farm," for-
merly Whittier's summer home, and
now occupied by Dean George H.
Hodges and family, of Harvard Uni-
versity ; "Pine Hill," Josiah Sturte-
vant's place, where Rev. Mr. Green-
leaf of Somerville, Mass., occupies a
cottage; Guy E. Cram's farm. Cen-
tre Harbor Neck, near Squam lake;
the old Sutton estate, now owned and
occupied by J. A. Grant and family,
of Everett, Mass.; "Alpine Park,"
where M. K. Kendall of Everett,

172

CENTRE HARBOR.

Mass., and A. W. Berry of Peabody,
Mass., own and occupy fine cottages :
" Pinecroft Cottage," occupied by
F. E. Stevens, the well-known edu-
cator of Brooklyn, N. Y.; "The
Briars," owned and occupied by
John D. Bates of Boston, and noted
for its deer park, fish pond, etc. All
of these cottages are well built and of
modern architecture, while many of
them are very elaborate and costly.

The only business of importance in
the town, aside from summer visitors,
is the Goodrich Brothers' sawmill,
and the general stores of Morse &
Stanley and F. L. Towle. The for-
mer is the old established business
place, Mr. Frank H. Morse having
been connected with it for twenty-
five years. The present partnership
was formed eight years ago, since
which time the business has con-
tinued to be very prosperous. Mr.
Towle has been proprietor of the
other store about a year, although it
has been established four or five
years.

The Congregational is the only
church in town, the present edifice
having been built in 1838. The
membership at that time numbered
eleven persons, viz.: Moses Morse,
Jeremigh Towle, Ward C. Sturte-
vant, Dorothy Sturtevant, Olive
Emery, Anna M. Batchelder, Eu-
cetta Sturtevant, Eavina S. Coe,
Eois Morse, Sally T. Paine, and
Caleb Towle. Among the present
membership of sixty are several de-
scendants of the original founders.
Since its establishment in 1838, ser-
vices have never been suspended,
and the church continues its prosper-
ous and useful work under the direc-
tion of its present pa.stor, Rev. J. A.
McKnight.

The schools of the town have
been systematically managed, and
although the number of pupils does
not warrant the establishment of a
high school, yet the opportunities for
a substantial English education are
not lacking. The Centre Harbor
Library association, established in
1890, now circulates 800 volumes, fur-
nishing a great addition to the edu-
cational facilities, as well as lighter
reading to while away spare hours.

The only secret society in town is
Winnipiseogee Tribe, No. 25, Im-
proved Order of Red Men, Charles E.
Goodrich, sachem, which has about
fifty members. The organization is
strong and prosperous, and occupies
a commodious and well-appointed
hall.

The amusements of summer visi-
tors are many and enticing ; boating
on the beautiful lake, catching mag-
nificent strings of black bass and
other fish, playing lawn tennis on
the splendid courts, driving over the
shady roads, visiting other near by
resorts, attending hops and lawn par-
ties ; and when tired of all these, sit-
ting quietly on the broad veranda, or
lounging in the inviting hammock
under the trees, and passing the
hours in silent communion with Na-
ture, and in lazy, contented intro-
spection. So calm, so peaceful, so
beautiful is it during the long sum-
mer days, that at Centre Harbor even
the most active intellect may emu-
late the example of an old friend in
Weare, who declared that he some-
times "went for weeks at a time and
never thought nothin'." You do
not have to think while at Centre
Harbor. You only have to be com-
fortable and contented, hungr}^ and
happy.

WINNIPESAUKEE.

By George H. Evans.

Smile of the Great Spirit, oft to thee
My heart in longing turns to see
Thy rocky shores, and bending willows,
And siinn}^ calms, and heaving billows ;
And oft on mem'ry's pictured scroll,
Clear-graven stand thy moods of soul.

I see thy waters, clear and bright,
Fling back to skj^ Aurora's light.
Or mellow lie, as the day grows old,
In purple haze and streak of gold.
And calmer and more restful yet.
When 'neath thy hills the sun has set,
And shadows o'er thy bosom glide,
Like phantom ships on mystic tide.
And moonbeams shimmer in dreamy spell
On every gently murmuring swell.

Then, weary with the day's toilsome care,

I fain would seek thy peace to share.

And drink deep drafts of renewing life.

And patience and hope in daily strife.

And from the strong, deep calm thy depths within,

New strength to work, and wait, and win.

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

By Adjutant Luther Tracy Taivusend.
CHAPTER X\X .— Continued.

,,, , , o, . r ,7 , ,■ quarters. It was the landing place

//. Attack at Sprins-ficid Landiui^. / , . ,. . , ,

for the various supplies intended

Springfield Landing is six or seven for our troops who were then besieg-

miles distant from the nearest point ing Port Hudson.

to Port Hudson, and was somewhat At the time of which we are writ-
further from General Banks's head- ing, earh' in July, there were iiii-

174

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

mense quantities of quartermasters'
and commissary stores, ammunition,
and medical supplies piled along the
shore of that landing, awaiting trans-
portation.

For the purpose of protecting those
supplies, the men of the Sixteenth,
commanded by Captain Hersey, to-
gether with the One Hundred Sixty-
second New York, were detached
from the main army, and Captain
Hersey was appointed provost mar-
shal.

Confederate scouts, though appear-
ing at no point in large numbers,
constantly had been hovering along
the road between the I^anding and
Port Hudson, which ran for a larger
part of the distance through a well-
wooded and deserted country. The
Confederate colonel, J. L,. Logan, a
bold and dashing officer, was raiding
in our rear and doing no little mis-
chief. In his report to General John-
son, he said, "I will range around
through the countr}-, and whenever
an opportunity offers, will strike the
enemy."

Still, an attack by Logan at Spring-
field Landing was hardly expected,
and certainly had not been provided
for. Accordingly, on July 2, at nine
o'clock in the morning, our men
were treated to a genuine surprise.
Indeed, for a few moments there was
consternation among them. A regi-
ment of Texan rangers, sometimes
called "bush whackers," under com-
mand of the Confederate Colonel
Powers, numbering from two to four
hundred, though seeming to our
startled men to number several thou-
sands, without a moment's warning
dashed in among our troops, taking
temporary possession of all supplies.
They came from the southwest, and

with such boldness that the men on
the picket line, belonging to the One
Hundred Sixty-second New York,
supposed at first that they were our
own cavalry.

Not a shot was fired by our men
until they had been surrounded. As
soon as the mistake was discovered,
the colonel of the One Hundred
Sixty-second New York with a reso-
lute effort attempted to rally his men,
but all to no purpose, at least so far
as getting them into .shape to repel
the attack was concerned.

But his courageous efforts and
energetic commands appear to have
been of important service, for the
Confederates, fearing that the New
York men were being ordered into
position to cut off their retreat, and
suffering somewhat from the men of
the Sixteenth, who after the first sur-
prise had begun to fire upon them,
escaped almost as suddenly as they
had come upon us.

In Colonel Irwin's report to Gen-
eral Banks we were gratified to find
this acknowledgment: "The pro-
vost guard, commanded by Capt.
A. J. Hersey, Sixteenth New Hamp-
shire, made a fight from behind the
levee and drove the enemy off, kill-
ing three, including a captain, and
wounding five of their number. Cap-
tain Hersey's loss was three wounded,
three prisoners, and one missing."

The enemy remained within our
lines .scarcely more than twent}" min-
utes. They set fire to a large quan-
tity of clothing and garrison equi-
page, but the bulk of the stores was
saved. Colonel Logan's report, sent
to Richmond, that he had "burned
all the enemy's stores, destroyed a
hundred wagons, and killed and
wounded a hundred and forty men,"

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

175

was of course a Confederate false-
hood. The facts were, that they had
taken but twenty-five prisoners, only
three belonging to the Sixteenth,
and they were released within a few
hours. Only one of our men, Private
Johnson of Company G, was killed.

The audacity of that raid, the little
damage done, with the opportunity of
doing much, the firmness with which
our men (with two or three excep-
tions) stood their ground, especially
those of the Sixteenth, judging from
Irwin's report to Banks, and the pre-
cipitate flight of the enemy are mat-
ters of congratulation.

We shall be justified, perhaps, in
adding at this point another compli-
mentary announcement made to Gen-
eral Banks by General Irwin. It
came about in this way :

A few days after that attack, a
detachment of dust-covered Federal
cavalry under a dim light dashed
into our lines at Springfield L,anding.
The contrabands under our charge,
of whom there were almost a multi-
tude, began the cry, "The rebs !
The rebs are coming!" This was
echoed by hundreds of others, and
created a panic ; there was a wild
rush of negroes, teams, teamsters,
and frightened soldiers. Speaking
of that affair, Colonel Irwin in his
report to Banks saj's, "At the bluff
they were stopped by the bayonets
of the Sixteenth New Hampshire,
which formed with great promptitude
behind the levee."

///. Defense of Fort Butler at Donald-
sonville.

It will be remembered by the
reader that at the time the Sixteenth
left Butte a la Rose, many of the men,
being too enfeebled to proceed with

the regiment to Port Hudson, were
left, .some at Brashear City, others
at Algiers, while the larger part were
taken to New Orleans and placed in
a roomy but not very inviting build-
ing, that in former days had been
used as a cotton press.

Still, the men, having suitable food
and fairly good nursing, and being
protected from rain and malarial poi-
sons, had really no grounds for com-
plaint, and many of them, owing to
their life- long temperate habits and
their naturally vigorous constitutions,
rallied, as they had at other times,
surprisingly quick, and felt them-
selves read}^ for service, though really
far less qualified for it than they im-
agined themselves to be.

Not many days had passed after
their arrival at New Orleans when
there came a most pressing call for
our men and other convalescents to
go up the river to Donaldsonville,
which was then threatened by the
enem}^ there being at the time no
other available troops that could be
had for its defense. Eight)^ men
of the Sixteenth, as Comrade J. P.
Heath, Company B, who was among
the number, reports, answered the
call.

It ought to be said, however, that
Comrade H. I,. Johnson, of Company
H, who also was among the number,
thinks there were fewer of our men
than the estimate of Comrade Heath
indicates, and we rather incline to
the opinion of Johnson. The exact
number is perhaps of no material im-
portance, though the number of the
volunteers from our regiment, as com-
pared with that from others, must
have been large.

Unfortunately, the roster made by
Sergeant G. P. Cotton, of the Six-

176

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

teenth, to whom on leaving New
Orleans for Donaldsonville was given
the command of all the convalescents
from the various regiments, cannot,
since his death, be found, though
every effort has been made to secure
it. Comrade Johnson, after these
many intervening years, is able to
recall with certaint}^ the following
names :

Sergeant, George P. Cotton ; cor-
poral, Lewis F. Davis; privates,
Leonidas J. Avery, Charles G. Davis,
James W. Cross, Nathaniel D. Farns-
worth, Ranson Hand}^ Joseph P.
Heath, Ezra F. Jonnson, Henry L,.
Johnson, George P. Jones.

It is, perhaps, no matter of sur-
prise, but it certainly is a matter of
regret, that onl}'- these names of the
men of the Sixteenth can be enrolled
among those who defended that forti-
fication. The only full record, as we
have said, is lost, and most of the
men are long since dead.

Donaldsonville is on the Mississippi
river, at the confluence of the La
Fourche bayou, and is about equi-
distant from Port Hudson and New
Orleans. Owing to its location, it
figured, first and last during the sev-
eral campaigns in Louisiana, as a
place of considerable strategic impor-
tance.

Quite early in the war it was de-
termined by the Federal authorities
to fortify it, and accordingly a fort
was built and named Fort Butler in
honor of Gen. Benjamin F. Butler,
whom the people of the Southwest
hated more intensely than they did
any other, because he was disposed
to handle well-known Confederates
without gloves.

The fortification was remarkably
well built, and commanded the ap-

proaches on all sides. Fort Butler
had been garrisoned late in June,
1863, by portions only, of two com-
panies of the Twenty-eighth Maine
under command of Major J. D.
Bullen.

Our convalescent recruits of the
Sixteenth had been -t Donaldsonville
scarcely a week when the Confederate
General Thomas Green, of Texas, a
very clever leader and fighter, who
had been raiding that part of Lou-
isiana since the reoccupation of
Teche country b}^ the Confederates,
appeared in the rear of Fort Butler
with his Texan troops, who were
rough clad, excepting those who
were dressed in the uniforms of
Union soldiers, probably taken in
their raids on Brashear City ; but
though roughly clad, these Texans
were brave and resolute fighters. On
the afternoon of June 27, under a
flag of truce. General Green de-
manded an unconditional and imme-
diate surrender of the fort.

Major Bullen thereupon called to-
gether the garrison, and, while they
were standing about the flagstaff,
asked whether the flag should be
pulled down or left hanging. "It
was one of the boys of the Six-
teenth," says Comrade Heath, "who,
speaking for the rest, said, ' Never
pull it down ; let it hang ! ' The
Major then replied, ' It shall hang
there as long as there is a man of
you left to defend it.' "

Fortunately, at that juncture, a
transport steamer from New Orleans,
having on board a few officers and
men who were returning to their
regiments at Port Hudson, called at
Donaldsonville. They were informed
of the situation, and Major Bullen
asked if there were any commis-

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

^11

sioned officers on board who could
be spared to assist in the defense of
the garrison against the expected
attack. Two lieutenants v^olunteered
and the steamer departed.

A few moments later General
Green was informed of the decision
of the garrison., H. sent back word
to remove the non-combatants imme-
diatel)^ and added "no prisoners
will be taken."

Five hundred of his men, mean-
while, had volunteered to take the
fort by storming it. They made the
attack a little past one o'clock on the
morning of June 28,

The first assault was on the stock-
ade at our left, and though we w'ere
exposed to the raking fire from the
enemj^'s sharpshooters who were
posted on the opposite side of the
baj'ou, still the stockades at that
point were gallantly and cour-
ageously defended by our men, the
larger number of whom w^ere from
the Sixteenth.

The second attack, thirty minutes
later, was on our right. That assault
was determined and fierce, but the
position was heroically defended, the
larger number of defenders at that
point being from the state of Maine.

It was in that attack that one of
the lieutenants who, on the way up
the river the day before, had volun-
teered to stop over, was killed by a
bullet through his neck, and the
other one a little later w^as mortall}^
wounded by a large shot that passed
through his face, nearly severing his
tongue ; he was removed to New Or-
leans that afternoon.

In the fight Sergeant Cotton was
hit by a bullet just over his heart,
but his roll book deadened the force.
The sergeant carried for some time

the mark of the shot where the bullet
struck; the bullet, together with his
roll book, as evidence of his narrow
escape, were frequently shown to his
comrades and friends.

While the second attack was in
progress, some of our Sixteenth men
who were almost too sick to keep
their feet, showed, nevertheless, their
fighting qualities, for without orders
they crawled along the embankment
to the position held by the men from
Maine, and helped to defend that
point from the enemy, who w'ere do-
ing their utmost to carry it. The
firing continued until daylight, when
it slacked for the most part, and the
main bod}' of the enem}- apparently
withdrew.

During the fighting that night, as
afterwards it was ascertained, some
of the Sixteenth men had used from
seventy to eighty rounds of ammuni-
tion.

The ill-fated Major Bullen before
his death made the following report
of that first day's fighting :

"At half-past one a. ni., June 28,
our pickets were fired on by those of
the enemy, and during their retreat
the guns of the fort and those of the
gunboat Princess Royal, under com-
mand of Captain Woolsey, opened on
the approaching enemy. But their
forces moved steadily forward, and in
a short time Captain E. B. Niel, to
whom I had entrusted the defense of
the left entrance to the fort, received
a terrible fire from the enem)', who
came up on the opposite bank of the
Bayou I^a Fourche to a point where
they could fire on his flank, w^hich
was wholly unprotected ; but the
gallant captain and his command
endured the fire without wavering,
and replied with vigor, w^hich, with

178

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

the assistance of one of the guns of
the fort, drove them back in disorder.

"Ahnost simultaneously with the
attack on our left, the enemy made a
vigorous assault in front of both en-
trances of the fort with a large force.
On the left the)' were bravely re-
pulsed by Captain Neil. Captain
Thompson, to whom I had given the
defense of the right entrance, after a
severe engagement under great dis-
advantages and with a number many
times exceeding his owm, was com-
pelled to withdraw to the inner
works, wdiere the captain and his
command with the greatest despera-
tion fought the enemy, who in large
numbers had succeeded in getting
within the outer works.

"During the hot fire on the left,
Lieutenant Murch, of Captain Thomp-
son's company, was in command of
one of the reserves and was ordered
to support Captain Thompson, which
he did with the greatest energy, and
after an hour's struggle was killed.
Here also Lieutenant Perry w'as
severely wounded.

' ' My force was so small that the
reserves had now to support Captain
Niel, and now Captain Thompson, as
the case demanded. After an en-
gagement of three hours and a half,
some twenty-five of the enemy at the
left surrendered, and more than one
hundred on the right. A majority
of those who succeeded in getting
within our outer w^orks made their
escape, leaving a little more than one
hundred.

"I cannot speak in terms of too
high commendation of ni}' gallant
ofhcers and my brave men, who
fought against so great a superiority
of numbers with unaccountable
energy and endurance.

"Of the enemy, we have buried
more than fifty that we gathered up
just without and within our outer
works. Twenty-five of their wounded
we found where we gathered up their
dead. The remainder were borne
away by the retreating forces. The
number must have been large. Two
deserters came in yesterday, and
stated that the enemy acknowledged
a loss of 500, killed and wounded."

Not long after completing this re-
port, the major, who had incurred the
displeasure of some of the men, was
treacherously shot by one of his own
soldiers. Private Francis Scott of
Company F, First Louisiana regi-
ment, who at the time was somewhat
under the influence of liquor. Scott
was at once arrested and sent to New
Orleans, where he was tried and shot
for his crime.

General Green, finding that his
500 volunteers were not sufficient to
capture the fort, and enraged at his
losses, massed his entire force, num-
bering at that time nearly fourteen
hundred men, and followed cautiousl}'
down the banks of the river in con-
fidence of making the capture.

But, fortunately for us, the very
night on wdiicli the attack was
planned, one of the Federal gun-
boats, watching for a movement of
that kind, discovered the where-
abouts of the Confederates, and
under cover of the fog got in position
and gave them a broadside that
caused a general stampede.

Those of the enemy who were still
in position to fight us, together with
others who from time to time had
joined them, finding that the main
body of their comrades had retired
during the night, waved a white flag
at daylight. They w'ere asked,

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

179

"What is wanted?" and replied,
"We wish to surrender." They
were required to lay down their
arms where they were. They then
filed into the fort and gave their
names. Though they did not know
the fact, and it is well for us that
they did not, j-et the}^ numbered
more effective men than those to
whom they had surrendered them-
selves prisoners.

After looking about for a few^ mo-
ments and seeing scarcely any troops,
they asked, " Where are your men ? "
"Oh, the)- are at breakfast; some of
them have gone for water and others
are secreted where they can fix Green
if he makes another attack." Those
were falsehoods, but were told on the
fallacious ground that in war all
things are fair.

There can be no doubt that if the
weakness of the garrison reall}^ had
been known, those men would not
have surrendered. They had been
completely fooled during the day and
night by fictitious commands like
these: "Colonel Smith, move your
regiment to the left and hold your
fire till the enemy are in easy range."
"Colonel Littlejohn, keep a sharp
lookout and be read}' with your com-
mand to make an assault." Many
such orders were given to regimental
and compan)' commanders who had
no existence except in the imagina-
tion of the Yankees who held the
fort and gave the commands.

Fortunately, soon after the Confed-
erates had surrendered, a small gun-
boat. No. 2, which formerly was the
blockade runner. Princess Royal ^ came
down the river and relieved us of our
prisoners. Then our boys breathed
easier, for up to that time they had
been in mortal dread lest those

Texans, discovering the weakness of
the garrison, would spring upon and
disarm the guards, and have the
fort and its defenders in their own
hands.

General Green's plans meantime
were unknown. The fear was that
he would return at any hour with
perhaps an additional force, and if so,
our men, though slightly reinforced,
June 29, by a few men from the
Twenty-eighth Maine and the Lou-
isiana First, who compensated for
the loss to our forces during the
fighting of the previous day and
night, could not seeminglj' have held
out if there had been another assault.
And what made matters still worse
for us was that the enemy had
planted batteries on the river both
above and below Donaldson ville,
which quite effectuall}- cut off all
transport navigation unless attended
by gunboats.

In that critical condition of affairs,
our men from June 28 to July 9 were
kept on duty almost continuously',
day and night. They slept behind the
entrenchments with muskets in their
hands, and even cooked and ate their
rations with their equipments on.

And 3'et, strange and odd as it
ma}' seem, those more than half-
exhausted and almost imprisoned
troops on the morning of July 4 re-
solved to fire the national salute.
Accordingly, they arranged a protec-
tion for the gunners and began the
firing.

With almost every discharge, the
Confederates, who were lying right
under the guns on the other side of
the embankment, would utter their
oaths at the patriotism of the
" damned Yankees" who were suffo-
cating them with smoke and deafen-

i8o

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

ing them with the din of the cannon.
The entire salute, however, was fired,
which doubtless gave the impression
to the enemy that we had an ample
supply of ammunition left and plenty
of strength to use it.

It maj^ well be questioned if the
Confederate troops ever met such a
determined resistance, coupled with
so much out - and - out bluff as that
which confronted them at Donaldson-
ville.

It was some time during that
Fourth of July that the officer who
succeeded Major Bullen as command-
ant of the fort, expressed in the pres-
ence of some of our Sixteenth boys a
desire for certain information that in
vain he had sought to obtain.

One of the youngest of the number
offered to make the attempt to secure
it. The commander in reply chaffed
the volunteer a bit, owing, perhaps,
to his extreme youthful appearance.
' ' What can you do ? " was the ques-
tion of the commander. "Anything
you say," was the quick reply. "I
wish, then," said the officer, "you
would find where General Green is,
and what he is going to do." "I
will," replied the boy.

The commander scarcely expected
that such a foolhardy attempt would
be made, and dismissed the matter
from his mind. The next morning
very early the youthful soldier visited
the officer's tent with the information
that Green was in a certain farm-
house, giving the location, and that
he was intending to attack the fort at
one o'clock that day. The officer
laughed. The young soldier re-
marked, "Would it not be well for
you to get ready ? ' '

The officer studied for a moment
the face of the boy, and became

thoughtful. Shortly after the fore-
going conversation, matters were put
in readiness for an attack, and at one
o'clock every available man was in
position. Hardly had that been
done, when Green, who doubtless
had reasoned that at that hour the
garrison would be easily surprised,
suddenly appeared and began the
attack. To his astonishment and
dismay, he found that our men were
fully prepared as if expecting the
attack, and so successfully met it
that he fell back to consider w4iat
next to do.

The facts were these : That vSix-
teenth boy, of whom we have spoken,
soon after his conversation with the
commanding officer, and after dark,
passed through our picket lines, and
by a "piece of good luck," as he
says, though evidently by sheer dar-
ing, discovered the farm-house where
were stopping General Green and his
staff.

He hung about, and by creeping
under fences, climbing tre.es, and by
other devices and adventures, that
seem almost too incredulous for any
one to believe, obtained the desired
information, and actually overheard
the words of General Green while he
was planning the attack for the next
day, and among other things heard
him say, "I will enter that fort if I
have to cut my way with an axe."
Green probably, when using those
words, had in mind the cutting of the
upright timbers that formed the
stockade that greatly had bothered
his men in the previous assault.
After getting this information, our
3^oung volunteer returned, passing
through the enemy's and our own
picket lines, reaching the fort some
time before daylight.

ED UCA TIONA L DEPAR TMENT.

i8i

We would be glad to give the name phatically requested the historian to
of that )-outhful hero, of course now withhold for the present its publica-
well on in years, but he has em- tion.

Note. — The autlior desires suggestions or corrections from any comrade of tlie Sixteenth or any other regiment.

\To he cotiti)uied.'\

Conducted by Fred Gowmg, State Superintendent of Public Instruction .

OVERWORK.'

By A. H. Campbell, Ph. D.

This topic may suggest some very
general questions which we shall not
care to discuss in this paper. For
example, Are we as a nation overwork-
ing, or working under too great pres-
sure? Are our professional men
overworking ; our business men ; the
fathers and mothers of the family.'
Questions of this character have a
general interest, but the question we
are to consider is : Is there overwork in
the schools ? As this question seemed
too broad, and as a leading superintend-
ent in an adjoining state has lately
investigated one phase of this, "Are
Our Teachers Overworked ?" I decided
to- limit my investigations to the work
of the pupils and to the public schools.

'Address before the Merrimacl': \'alley Teachers'

The charge of overworking students
is sometimes made against the special
fitting schools for colleges, and often
against Normal schools.

I have in the past made many inves-
tigations of such charges and never yet
found one substantiated by fact ; not
one case of breaking down from over-
work has been found to exist among
students simply fulfilling the require-
ments of the schools. I have known
students to fail in their work and break
down from the worry incurred in at-
tempting to perform two years' work in
one, but the violation of physical laws
was the primal cause, even in such
cases.

Students break down from attempt-
Association, at Nashua, N. H., May i, 1897.

l82

ED UCA TIONA L DEPA R TMENT.

ing to save time for study which should
be devoted to sleep, rest, or recreation.
I have known students to fail physically
because of starving the body to save
expense, when boarding themselves,
and from taking cold biles when they
felt like eating, instead of having prop-
erly-prepared meals at regular times ; —
an expensive kind of economy, a waste-
ful saving of time.

It sounds very poetical to talk about
burning the midnight oil, and forget-
ting hunger, pain, and weariness in the
thirst for knowledge, but it shows also
a lack of common sense. It may be
good sentiment, but it is poor policy.
Nothing is saved by cheating the stom-
ach of needed nourishment, or the brain
and nerve of needed rest. Nature's
laws are inexorable, and demand a
penalty for every violation.

When any such failure occurs — no
matter what may be the cause — a hue
and cry is raised against the school for
overworking its students.

Without indulging farther in generali-
ties, I come to the special phase of the
subject investigated, — the overwork of
children in our public schools. This
topic may be still farther limited by
leaving out of the account the rural
schools, in which the complaint of over-
work of pupils is seldom or never heard.
The reasons for this are obvious. The
shorter terms and brief time for recita-
tions preclude the possibility that teach-
ers will overwork pupils, while the more
healthful environments and vigorous
out-of-door exercise tend to develop
stronger constitutions in the country-
bred boys and girls.

As I did not wish to deal merely
with generalities, or simply express an
individual opinion, I decided to inves-
tigate the matter as fully as the time
would allow and to report the result of

my investigations. To this end I pre-
pared a series of questions, as follows

STATE NORMAL SCHOOL,

PLYMOUTH, N. H.

Dear Sir : Please give your opinion in an-
swering the following questions, and oblige by
returning promptly. Yours truly,

A. H. Campbell.

1. Are the children of your city overworked
in the public schools ?

2. If so, what is the cause, and who is respon-
sible for it ?

3. If not, why is the charge so often made
against the schools ?

4. How many cases of serious injury from
overwork have come under your observation ?

5. How large a per cent, of the so-called
cases of overwork are due to worry ? To the
neglect of caring for bodily health ? To out-
side attractions — parties, late suppers, etc. ?

6. Should children below the high school
study outside of school hours? If so, how
much ?

7. How many hours should high school stu-
dents work, including recitations?

Name. Position. Location. (Please make
any further remarks below.)

These I sent to superintendents,
teachers, and phj'sicians of New Eng-
land, and of the larger cities in all
parts of the United States. I have
received reports from all the larger
cities of New England, and from many
others, a sufficient number from which
to draw a fair conclusion in regard to
the matter investigated. The first in-
quiry was : Are the children over-
worked in the public schools ? Only
four affirmative answers to the ques-
tion have been received.

Of the physicians who reported, three,
only, said " Yes," and hold the board of
education responsible. One decidedly
modified his statements in answering
later questions, for he writes that " Eye
strain and bad hygienic surroundings
have much to do with the students'
condition, and undoubtedly too much
of the serious injury is ascribed to over-

ED UCA TIONAL DEBAR TMENT.

185

study." Another says : " Your ques-
tions open up a wide field of thought
and investigation. In a word, I would
say that I believe a great many children
of American families, who are well when
they first attend school, break down
sorhewhere in the course, by being
pushed too hard in their studies." The
other physicians answered "No."

Seventy-five per cent, of the superin-
tendents answered this question with
an unqualified " No." The others
qualified their answers with such ex-
pressions as : "I think not," " Few, if
any," "Not as a class," "The average
pupil is not," " No, excepting in the col-
lege preparatory course, for which the
college is responsible." The writer of
this last says : " It is hardly possible
to do in the high school in four years
the work required in fitting for college.
The course should be extended to five
years." Eighty per cent, of the teach-
ers said "No," or "I think not."
Others qualified the negative with "not
in general," "only exceptionally," "ex-
cepting a few in high schools." One
gave an unqualified "Yes," and as-
signed as the cause, " poor teaching."

One superintendent of large experi-
ence says: "The overwork insanity
seems to have disappeared around here.
We cannot get our pupils to work as
much as is good for their health."

A physician writes : " The system of
examinations in our public schools
(New York and Brooklyn) is very
bad and is more responsible for the
complaints than the system of study.
There is a 'cram" and a rush and
feverish excitement connected with it
that is responsible for much that is
called overwork. The effect is bad,
especially on girls."

A Boston teacher writes : " My be-
lief, briefly stated, is that the teacher.

not the pupil, is the one who over-
works, and must do so to make up for
the lack of ambition in the average
city child, as compared with the aver-
age city committee. The teacher is
ground between the upper and the
nether millstone. Some of the exces-
sive burden is due, I suppose, to recent
enrichment of courses (but not of teach-
ers) with no curtailment anywhere, and
the day no longer than it has always
been. The pupil is all right; he will
always take good care not to cheat
himself of any play time, or put in any
work time, unless absolutely driven tO'
it. The exceptions to this rule are, I
take it, pretty rare anywhere, and in
that special constituency with which I
am familiar, would compare in fre-
quency with the traditional angels'
visits."

The superintendent of the same city
says : " If the children in the public
schools of this city are overworked
(which he does not believe to be the
case generally), the teachers are the
cause of such overwork, and are re-
sponsible for it."

Another says : " My experience shows
that those pupils are said to be over-
worked by study whose parents require
them to do no manual labor, but rather
incline to do for them instead of asking
them to do for themselves." One says :
"There are a few cases of overwork,
for which the city is responsible in not
having a competent medical inspector
of schools."

The answers to the second question,.
" If so, what is the cause and who is
responsible for it .'' " have been largely
included in my report of the answers
to the first. One teacher thus explains
the situation : " Parents do not coop-
erate with teachers to secure due appli-
cation from all pupils. The ambitious

i84

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

ones are allowed to do too much : the
lazy ones are allowed to waste their
time." Another sa3's there are two
causes : " First, peculiar temperament
of pupils — strain actually too great ;
second, outside work or interests, e. g.,
music, society — ^parents responsible.''

The third question : " If not, why is
the charge so often made against the
schools?" called out the greatest variety
of answers.

About one half the teachers and su-
perintendents claim that the charge is
not made in regard to the schools over
which they have supervision.

A large number attribute the charge
to "misinformation," "misapprehen-
sion," "ignorance of the school work
on the part of the parents," "for the
want of a better excuse," " as a con-
venient scapegoat." One teacher says :
" The charge is made, I fancy, some-
times as a scapegoat for the deficien-
cies of children, and sometimes by par-
ents out of pure ill will." Another
writes : " I think the charge is often
made against the schools for the rea-
son that one such case counts for
more than a thousand cases in which
children are not overworked." Others :
"A growing laxity in parental authority
and undue sympathy for their children."
One teacher says: "Teachers ask for
too much, not expecting half. The
pupil tells outside how much he is
expected to do; thus public opinion."

A superintendent attributes the
charge to unthinking and indiscrimi-
nating criticism. Recently in one
study in one class in the high school,
undue lessons were required and at
once complaint against the whole
school system was loud and frequent.
A remedy applied to that one class
stopped the talk. Another writes :
" Mentally weak pupils are thus ex-

cused by their parents. All disgrun-
tled citizens use the schools for such
purposes. It shows lack of home
training." Still another : " Perhaps
because people are more ready to be-
lieve that the ill health of their chil-
dren is due to something wrong in the
schools than to their own folly." Other
reasons given are : " Children are not
trained by their parents to consider
school work the main business of school-
days. The claims of school generally
give way to other claims. When the
resulting backwardness overcrowds the
pupil, it is dishonestly attributed to too
great demands of the school, instead
of to the neglect of its legitimate de-
mands. In the great majority of cases
the charge of overwork lacks honesty
or intelligence." Another : " Many par-
ents whose children have to leave
school on account of ill health, are
inclined to ascribe that ill health to
overstudy, the fact being that the chil-
dren are unable to study on account of
ill health, not that their health is poor
because of overstudy ; the ill health is
usually due to other causes. Many
children are indisposed • to study, or
are lazy ; and many parents mistake
that indisposition or laziness for a sign
of ill health, and let their children drop
out of school." One says : " It is a fact
that children get fatigued in school, but
not from overwork. Such fatigue is
due often to foul air, to mechanical,
uninteresting teaching, and to lack of
intermissions."

The fourth question was : " How
many cases of serious injury from over-
work have come under your observa-
tion ? " The teacher who answered
" Yes " to the first question gives the
number of cases that have come under
his observation as thirty. He has
taught school above twenty years.

ED UCA riONA L DEPAR TMENT.

185

The physicians who claim that chil-
dren are overworked in the public
schools cannot tell how many cases
they have had, but say " Several,"
"Usuallv one on hand," "No means
of knowing," "Thirteen in one year."
A principal writes : " I think that some-
thing like one out of ten of my pupils
use their minds to the detriment of
their bodies or their health." Another
one writes : " In all my experience of
twenty-seven years, I do not recall a
single experience of serious injury from
overwork."

Two or three others say "Very few" ;
one, " Not any, except to eyesight " ;
while all others claim " Not any."
Half of the physicians report " Not
any " ; one says : " Perhaps half a dozen
cases every year, and these as a rule
have some physical defect as an exciti^ig
cause. The neurotic cases are in the
majority in children (particularly girls)
from ten to fourteen years of age."
The others report "Very few cases."

Eighty per cent, at least of the super-
visors report " None," or " None for
several years"; ten per cent, report
" A few^ cases " ; one reports " Six or
seven cases in fifteen years " ; another,
" Two in twenty-three years."

The fifth question consisted of three
parts : First, " How large a per cent,
of the so-called cases of overwork are
due to worry?" second, "To the ne-
glect of caring for bodily health ? "
third, " To outside attractions — parties,
late suppers, etc. ? "

There is perfect agreement with all
parties investigated in placing the main
responsibility for the so-called cases of
overwork in the schools upon some

one or all of these agencies combined.
There is great diversity of opinion as
to which should carry the lion's share.
The larger burden is generally ascribed
to the outside attractions — parties, late
suppers, etc., to which several add
music and other mental work, with the
outside strain accompanying social en-
tertainments and church festivals, in the
performance of which the school chil-
dren are depended upon for the bulk
of the work. With several, " Laziness
or a dislike for study " is appointed to
bear a portion of the responsibility.
One says : " Ten times as much harm
is done by worry as by overwork."

The prevailing opinion, I find, varies
with the social customs of the com-
munity and the principles upon which
the school system is organized.

In those places where the gaining of
an education is considered the essential
and legitimate business of school chil-
dren, very little complaint is made of
the "outside attractions." Wherever
promotion depends upon rank obtained
by written examinations, and the quali-
fications for graduation are determined
in the same manner, " worry " is the
cause assigned for most of the physical
breaking down of pupils.

One only of those writing ascribed
the majority of cases of ill health in
pupils to neglect in caring for the
body ; all others assigned to this cause
a small per cent, of the cases.

It is very probable that the system
of physical examinations and oversight
of the health of pupils by competent
physicians on boards of health has had
much to do in diminishing sickness
caused by neglect of bodily health.

[TVi be co>u'ii(ii'iL'\

WILLIAM L. FOSTER.

Judge William Lawrence Foster was born in Westminster, Vt., June i, 1823,
and died at Rye beach August 13. He studied law at Harvard and began its
practice at Keene, removing to Concord in 1853, and there residing until his
death. During Polk's administration, he was postmaster at Keene, from 1849 to
1853 clerk of the state senate, and for several years prior to 1856 state law re-
porter. In 1869, he was appointed a justice of the supreme judicial court, and in
1874, upon the remodeling of the judiciary, was made chief justice of the circuit
court. Two years later, when another change was made, he was appointed one of
the seven justices of the supreme court, and retained that position until 1881,
when he resigned. In 1862 and 1863, Judge Foster was a member of the legisla-
ture; since 1884, one of the United States commissioners for New Hampshire;
from 1879 to 1887, a trustee of the state library, and for many years the president
of the board of trustees of the city library. As regards style of composition,
Judge Foster's opinions were the finest ever delivered in New Hampshire, and
will long be regarded as models.

JOSEPH SHATTUCK.

Joseph Shattuck was born in Blackburn, England, February 10, 1849, ^^^ *i^^^
by his own hand in Nashua, August 14. He was a manufacturer of confection-
ery, but was most prominent as a Mason, having attained the thirty-third degree
in that order and having held the most important offices within the gift of the

order in this state.

LUTHER G. JOHNSON.

Luther G. Johnson was born in Concord, November 13, 18 13, and died at
Minneapolis August 12. He was one of the founders of Minneapolis, starting the
first furniture factory in the northwest at St. Anthony Falls in 1854. Later, he
was engaged in general trade in that city.

DR. N. R. MORSE.

Dr. Nathan Ransom Morse was born in Stoddard, February 20, 183 1, and was
educated at Tubbs academy, Washington, and at yVmherst college. He studied
medicine at Harvard and the University of Vermont, and practised in Salem,
Mass., from 1865 to the time of his death, August 5. He was professor of dis-
eases of children in the medical department of the Boston University from 1874
to 1879, and was one of the founders of that institution. He was secretary of the
Massachusetts Hospital Medical society during i878-'79; edited Volumes IV and
V of the society's transactions; and was its orator in 1874.

AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

187

GEORGE S. HALE.

George Silsbee Hale was born in Keene, September 24, 1825, and was edu-
cated at Phillips Exeter academy and Harvard university, being graduated from the
latter institution in 1844. Studying law in the Harvard law school, he was ad-
mitted to the Suffolk bar in 1846, and from that date to the time of his death,
July 27, practised his profession in Boston. He was counsel for the Worcester
railroad and later for the Boston & Albany, and devoted himself largely to equity
and trusts. He was president of the city council of Boston in 1863 and 1864 and
was a delegate to the international arbitration commission of 1896. He was for
several years president of the American Unitarian association, and was also prom-
inent in other organizations on various lines.

DR. \V. II. W. HINDS.

Dr. W. H. W. Hinds was born in Chichester, August i, 1833, and died at Mil-
ford July 29. He. was an army surgeon in the Twelfth and Seventeenth Massa-
chusetts regiments and since the war had practised at Milford. He had been a
member of the legislature and of the state senate, and was prominent in secret

societies.

CHARLES S. TURNER.

Charles S. Turner, a native of Bethlehem, died at Worcester, Mass., August 8.
He entered the railroad business when 21 years of age, and was soon made gen-
eral agent of the railroad line and steamboat company with offices in Worcester.
He remained in that position for fifteen years, and then became superintendent of
the Worcester & Nashua Railroad company, which office he held for sixteen
years, when he was made president of the consolidated Worcester, Nashua, &
Rochester Railroad company. He retired from active service after four years,
and since that time he had lived quietly in Worcester,

JUDGE S. W. ROLLINS.

Judge Samuel W. Rollins was born in Somersworth, April 11, 1S25, and died at
Meredith July 25. He was graduated from Dartmouth in the class of 1846, and
was admitted to the bar in 1849. He practised his profession in Farmington and
Alton for three years each, and in 1855 came to Meredith. He was county solici-
tor for five years, and assistant United States assessor for ten. and judge of pro-
bate for twenty-two years.

MEMBERvSHIP— AMERICAN-IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY

Ackland. Tlinmas .1.. Huston, Mil-^s,
Aluru. W. J., Ciuord. N. II.
Alhy. John K'., lt...ston, Mass.
Annuifl. Kdwani L.. Lawrence. Ma.---*.
Barry, lUv. J. K.. V. c;.. CuniDnl. \. H.
Betts. Krv. Gi'iOfje C. Co.slien, X. V.
Birniin^Hiani. Dr. K. M.. S<i. Lawrcmt'. Mas
liodtisli. Kcv. J. r.. Canton, Mass.
Bolton. Kcv. .1. Cniv, riiitaiiclphia, \\\.
Bradley, liicliard E., IV.rtlaud, Mc
Bradley, Williani .1 . Lawrcnro. Muss.
Brady,' Kcv. C. T., I'liilnilclpliia. I'a.
Brady, Col. .1. D.. \Vasliin;rton, D. C.
Jh'andon. Kihvard .1.. ( junbrid^re, Mar*s.
Jtraiini^nn, IVIix, Wjisliinfrton. D. C
Ur«;eii, Hon. John, Lawrence, Ma^.s.

Brcnnjui, Janics T.. rctcvborou'rli. N. 1
lirennan, Micliacl. New York City.
JJroe. James A., roriliind. Mc.
Jturke. .1. Ediiniiui. Lawn-nee. Mass.
I>nrkc, Kobert K . Newburvport, Mass.
Bnrkc. Tobias A.. I'ortland. Me.
Builcr, Hon. M. C. K.l-cticid. S. C.
CahiM. ,M. ,(., Lawrence, Mass.
Calbijrban, La^\r^■n^•c, HavcrliiH, Mass.
Callaluui, .John A., Ibdvoke. Mas.s.
Callahan, .lohn K.. ll..>ton. Mass.
Cari'v. Jeremiah .L. l.a^vrcnec. Muss.
Canniilniel. James IL. LowclL -Mass.
Carniody, Ji.hn K., \Vashinjrt<.n, D. C.
Carney, M.. Lawrence, Mass.
f'aniey, Matthew J., Lawrence, Mass.

( lUToll. II. .u. llujrh J.. I'awtneket. K. L
Carroll, Thomas. Pcabody, Mass.
Carter. Kiehard A., Lawrence, Mass.
Cavanajrh. MichaeL Washing-ton, I>. C.
Chaplin, llennui W., Boston, Mass.
Cochrane, (icn. John, New York City.
Cogan. 1). 5?.. rortlnnd. Me.
Coleman, C. I'., rorthmd. Me.
Colling, Hev. CharUs W.. Tortland, .Mc
Collins, H-.n. \\ .V.. Boston. Mass.
Collins, l»r. William !►.. IlavcrliilL Mass.
CoBi.son. Ilarvcy X.. Bo>ton. Mass.
Conaty, Kev. TIios. J., Washingrton. I>. C.
Concuinion. .lohn S.. Winthrop, Ma!»s.
Coney, Col. 1'. IL. Topeka, Kan.
Coulcy, Henry, rortland, Me.

i88

A . M ERICA N- IRISH HIS TO RICA L SO CIE T } '.

(■'tiiHu. Mirliacl. La\Amu«'. Mii».

Cuiiimlly. .lanirs. CoVKmulo. Cul.

t'uiiiR-ihm. .lamrs A., rin'tlaiul, Mt*.

Coiincry, W. V.. Lynn. Ma^s.

Cuunolly. Kiclmrd. SaU-ni. )Ia$s.

('(Oinui*. .?. F.. iVabndy. Mass.

Cunuor. .Inhn .1.. Lawrence. Ma«s.

Corcoran, (-'. .1.. La^vn-n<e. Mass.

Corcoran, ll^n. .Inhn \V.. lioslon. Mass.

Corr. ISfniavil. Itnstcu, Mass.

Costello. .lulm II., Huston. Mass.

Ctnip'lilin. .1. A., LawrrniH*, Mass.

Crinnnins, John !»., New York City.

Cronin. .lolni II.. Lawrt'Hcc. Mass.

Croston. l>r. ,1. I".. Havt-rliiii, Muss.

Crowe. Edward .1.. Lanmilh-, Minn.

Crowell. Ilc-nry (i.. Smith Vanni>utli. Mass.

Crowh'y. r.artiiolonifw. Haverhill. Mass.

Ciilhan*. Thos. A., Marietta. iVnn.

(■nnnin-rliain, C. !».. Portland, Me.

Cnnninf^hani, James. INn*tland, Mc.

Cunninjihani. T. W., rorthind, Me.

Cnrran. It. .1*. r.prthnid. Me.

Cnrran. .Maurice J.. Lawrence. Ma.ss.

Curry, Capf. I'. S.. Lynn. Mass.

Cusaek, IVter. Xewliuryp-irl. Mass

Ciishnahaii, Kev. V. M.. dfiden, Utah.

Dailey. I'eter, IJoston, Mass.

i)aly. John, South Lawrence. Mass.

Daly, Jtdni J.. Salt Lake City. I'tah.

DasVy, Charles V.. Huston, Mass.

L>avis, John J., (ireen^ ilU-. I'a,

Day. Hon. William A., \Va>hini:tnn. Ii. ('.

Liei"ourcy, Charles A.. Lawn-nce, Mil>^.

iienijisey. Genr;re C.. Lowell Mass,

Uempsey, Patrick, LuweU. Mass.

I>esnion(L J. J., La\\renet'. Mass,

l)esniond. John T., Ilaverliill, Mass.

Ui-znam. Ur. >L A., Lawrence, Mass.

Dillon. Moses, Kl Paso. Texas,

Dohertv. Philip J., Il..stun, Mass.

Dolan, "Patrick .1.. Cleveland. (>.

Donalioe. Patrick, lioston. Mass.

Donahue, Dan A., Lawrence. Mass.

Donifran. H<'rinird K.. Lawrence, Jlass.

Donnellan. Col. Juhn W., Salt LakeCity. I'tah.

Donnelly. Ii. .L, Lynn, Mass.

Donnelly. I;;natins, St. Paul, Minn.

Donoliue. D. .L. Lynn. ^Ltss.

Itono\an. Daniel. Lynn. .Mass.

l)ontivan, iJanicl .V., Lynn, Mass.

Donovan, Dr. Henry V., Lawrence. Mass.

Donovan. .John .L. Lawrence, Mass.

llonovan. Joseph, LL. H.. Lawrence, Mass.

Donovan. M. P.. Lynn. Mass.

l)ono\an. Dr. >L K., Lynn, Mass.

Ifon'uan. Timoihy. L>nn, Mass.

llonovan. Major "NV, U.. Lawrence, Mass.

l»on--uc. William. posl..n, Mass.

Doolitlle. Jann-s (J., Salt Lake City. I'tah.

Doran, J'atrick L., Salt Lake City." I'tah.

Dorc, .John P.. Seattle, Wash.

Dowd, Michael J.. Lowell. Mass.

Dowd. Peter A., Boston. Mass.

Driscoll, Ph.rence P., Portland, Me.

ih'uni. Cajit. Juhn. liostitn. Mass.

Dunne, F. L.. IJoston. Mass.

Kapan, Pev. M. H.. Lebanon. N. 11.

Ep'an. Maurice P., Washinp,t<»n, D. C

Kninu'tt, Dr. Thomas Addis, New York, N. Y.

Eni^rlish. Hon. Tlnnnas Dunn, Newark, N. J.

yap,'an. Serjrt. Thonuis J., Chicap*. 111.

Pahev. M. .1.. New Haven. Conn.

Pallo'n, Hon. .loscph D., Suntli P...stMn. .Mass.

Parrell, William. Pawtueket. K. I.

Peeley, William J.. Providence, ii. L

Keenan. IJernard. Salem. Mas.s.

P'inn, Kev. Thomas .1., Derby. Conn.

Pitz^M-rald, Patrick .L. Haverhill. Mass.

Pitzmanrice, Charles K., Kossland. It. C.

Pit/.patrick. .bdni H.. iJu-^ton. Mass.

Pitzjiatrick. Thnmas Ii.. Huston, .Mass.

Philu-rty, ihonias IL. Portland. Me,

Platley, Rev. John. Cambridge, JIass.

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Flatle'y, P, J.. Huston, Mass,

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I'lynn. .Joseph J.. La\^rence. Mass.

I'lynn, Thomas J., Hostoii, Mass.

pujrarly..). W.. liusfuu. Mass.

I'ub-v. Hernard, Koxburv, .Mass.

(iafn'.y. t liarb-s H.. Ifuchotcr. N. IL

<;alvin. Hun. Owen A.. Ilusinn. .Mass.

(Jarjran. Hun, Thunia> ,L. Hustun. Ma>s.

(iarrijrHU, Itev, Philip J.. Washinylun. I>. C.

(Jeoj^In'^ran. .Joseph, Salt Lake City. Ptali.

Cilbride. Patrick. Lowell. Mass,

(iilmartin. I)enis. La\vrenec, .Mass.

(ilynn. Tht»nias IL. Ni'wburyport. Mass.

(iraliam, Andrew M,, \e\\ buryjtorl. JIass.

(.ralijim. Kev. J. .L, Havi-rhill." .Mas>.

(irainpr. Dr. W. IL. Ka^.! llo>ton. .Mass.

(ire^tr. Matthew (',, Lawrence. Mass.

Hall. Kdward A.. Si.rinptiehl, Mass.

Halliw. William. Austin. HI.

Hanh-y. Prank L,, nlneyville. P. I.

llanrahan. William .1 . Laurence. .Mass,

llann-y^ Hubert J.. Lynn. .Mass,

Harney, Patrick .L, Lynn. .>biss.

Harney. Thomas P.. Lynn. Mass,
Harrinfiton. Kev. .L ('.. Lynn, Mass,
Harrington, Kev. .h)hn M., Lewistun. .Me.
Harrinjrtun. Dr. Thomas F., Luwell. Mass.
Harringrton, I'imuthy. Newlmryport. Jbiss.
Harson. M. .1.. Providence, K. I,
Hastinprs. lion. Daniel IP. Harrisl)urjr, Penn.
Haves. Hon. .Jolm .1.. lioston, >biss.
HAi^iu'v, Michael .1.. Mal.len, Mass.
Healey,"Col. D. P.. .Manchester, N. H.
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Healey. John A\'., Lynn, Mass.
Heery, Jann*s. Lowell, Mass.
Heery, (.'ol. Luke. Lowell, Mass.
Hctl'ern. Dr. Peter .L. I'awtucket. K, I.
Hi.-kcy. .Michael .L. Haverhill, Mass.
Hujian. Vcrv Kev. Dr., Hri-riiton, Mass.
Howard. Kc'v. J. J.. Won-ester. Mass.
Howes. nslH'rne, Huston. Mass,
Hoye. Jolm A., Dover, N. H,
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Hyde,' William A.. Hrij.-hton, Mass.
Jatdvson, .losejjh, Lawr<'nce. Mass.
J<trdan, M. J., Hustun, Mass.
Kani'. .Juhn P.. LawriMice. Mass.
Keatinp-, Patrick M.. P.n-^tun, Mass.
KealniK. "W, H,, Purtland. .Me,
Keely, Georp-e, Purtland. Me,
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Kelle'v. Lt.-Com, J, D. .1., Washinjiton, D, C.
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Kellv. Dr. .bdm P.. New burvport, Mass.
K<-Ily. William .(,. Newburypurt, Mass.
Kenelick, <)wcn A.. Lawrence, ^biss.
Kenned\'. John, I'all Kiver, Mass.
Kiley. Daniel P., Lawrence, Mass,
Lanison, Cid. D, S., Weston, Mass,
Lannan, P. IL. Salt Lake City, Utah.
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Larkiii, Kev. TImmas J,, Salt Lake City. I'tah.
Lanier, Thuinas H.. Hoston. Mass,
Leahev, Dr, tieurfie A,, Lowell, Mass,
Leahv, John P., Ho.ston. Mass.
LeckV, Walter, Kedwood, N, Y.
Lee, kev, Kobert P., Portland, Me.
Leomircl. James l*",. Lawrence, Mass.
Leonard, Thomas P., Lawrence, Mass.
Lennox. (itM.rfre W., Haverhill. Mass.
Linel.aii. James C., Peabudv, Mass.
Linebaii. 11. m, .)ohn C, Concord. N. H.
Linehan, Kev. Timothy I*., Hiddelbrd. .Me.
Linehan. Timothy P., Newburyport. Mass,
LoAvery. Dr. .lanu's E.. Sopris, t_'olorado.
Lowery. Wm, H,, Portland, Me,
Lynch, .Jolm E,. Worcester, Mass.
Lynch, (Jen. John .1,. Purtland, Me.
Maj;fe, Dr. .John .\., Lawrence, Mass.
Majruire. Juhn E.. Haverhill, Mass.
.Malioney, J. C., .sionx City. Iowa.
Mahoney, ,1. P. S., Lawrence, Mass.
Mahoney, M. J., Lawrence, Mass,
Maliony. D. D., Lawren<-e, Mass.
Mallory. Hnf;h J.. Lawrence, Mass.
.Mallov, (;en. A. c,, EI Paso, Texas.
.Malone, John. .\ew York City.
.Manjran. Dr. .1, J.. Lvnn, Mass.
.Mannix. C. A.. Portl'and. .Mc
.Marshall. Kev. (n'or-e P., Milfuni. X. H.
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McCarlhv, Pn;rcme T.. Lvnn, Mass.
>b'Carlhv. .Iose)ib. Hustu'n, Mass.
.McCarthy, Dr. T. \., Nashua, N. H.
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McCunwa\-. A\illiam, Pittsburpr. Pa,
IMcCuv, Kev. .luhn .L, Cliicopee, Mass.
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McDonoiijih. Kev. M. C.. Portland, Me.
.McKlenev, William. PortlamL .Mc.
McPlrov; Kev. Charles .]., Derbv Conn.
McPvoy, .luhn W.. Lowell, .Mass,
Mc(iauran. Dr. .M. S,. Lawrence. Mass.
.Mc(;iincliy, J. IL, Portland, Me.
Metiowan, J. A., Portland. Me.
Meiiowan, T. P., Portbnnl, Mc.
M<-(;uinness, Hon, Ivhvin D., Providence. K. 1.
Mciinrrin. Prank K,. Salt Laki- Citv, I'tah.
M<-Intvre. .hdin I-'.. New York Citv!
McLai'it:hlin. Pdw.-ird A., Hoston.' .Mass.
.McLaii^-iilin. Dr. Ilcnrv \',. Hrouklinc, Ma-s.
.McLauj:blin. Wm. IL.'purlland. Me,
Mi>binus, Cul. .luhn. Providence, K. I,
McManiis. Michael, Huston, .Mass,
McMaiins. Kev. M. T.. South Lawrence. .Mass.
.McNeii'uy. Michael .1.. (Moueester, Mass,
.Mcf^)uecnev-. IIenr\' J.. Lawrence. Mass.
McSw I'cui-v, Ke\-. Kdward. Itanfror, Me.
.Middhtun." Kev, riiunias C.. Villani)va. Pa.
.M.M.nev. .luhn A., New Yurk Citv.
Mu<.re,"CoL U'Hricn. \Vheelinjr. 'w. \'a.
Mftrrissey, Kev. Andrew, Notrt- Danu'. Ind.
.Moselev. Hon. Edward A,. Washington, D. C.
.Muses, "(;c■or^M• IL, Concord. N. H,
.Mulholland, (Jen. St. Clair A., Philadelphia, Pa,
Mullipm, H. .J,, Salem, Mass.
Mnriiliy, Dr. Daniel D., Amesbury, Mass.

Murphy. David P., Cone»ird. N. H.
.Murphy, Prank J., ob-an, N. Y'.
Murphy. .Jann-s, Lawrence, Mass.
.Murphy, Jann-s K.. Huston. Mass.
Murphy, Juhn K.. Huston, Mass.
Murray, Thunias Hamiltun, Lawrence, Mass.
Naplien, Hun. Henrv I'.. Hustun, Mass.
Nea-le. TlK.mas J. .■Haverhill. Mass.
Nieholsun. (o-urjre, Lynn, Mass,
4rHcirne. (ien. .lann-s K., New Yi,»rk City.
OHrien, Charli's .J., Hoston, Mass.
< I'Jirien, Prank J., Lawrence, Mass.
(>'Hrien. .James W., Hoston, Mass.
(►'Hrien. Kev. Michael, Lowell, Mass.
(>'Hrien, Patrick, Lawrence. Mass.
n'Hncn. T. Carl, Hustun, Mass.
n'Calla^rban, Kev. Denis. South Boston. Mass.
(t'Callajrhun, .John. Hoston. Mass.
O'Calbifihan, P. .1 . Lawrence. Mass.
O'Cimnell, Dr. J. C.. Washinfrton, D. C.
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C'Connell, Tinn>thy. Newburyport. Mass,
O'Ctninur, Friincis. LL. H.. Kansas City, Kan.
<>'Connor, Francis. Host<jn. Mass.
U'Couor, P. IP, Pi'abudy. .Mass.
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n'Donop-hne. Col, D, *)C,, Portland, Me.
<>"L>o\vd, Michael, Manchester, N. H.
CfDowd. Micliael J., Lowell, Mass.
O'Farrcll. Itev. D. J,. Boston. Mass,
O'Parrell. Patrick, Washinjrton, D. C,
O'Parrell. '.ul. P. .\.. Si)ukune, \Vasli.
o'Hart, John. Clontarf, Ireland.
l)IIearn. Dr William IP, Lawn-nce. Mass.
O'KcetV. John A., Lynn, Mass,
nLuup,'hlin, P,, jioston, Mass.
n'.Mahoney, Daniel J., Lawrence, Mass.
n'Mahoney, M., Lawrence, Mass.
*>"Neil, .bnnes, Lawrence, Mass.
n"NeiI, Huu, .Joseph H., Boston. Mass.
ONeil, Kev. J. L., New York City.
(YNcill. James L., I^lizabeth, N. J.
O'Keiilv, Itev, .Tames T., Lawrence, Mass.
(CKeiirv. Luke F.. Washinirton, D. C.
O'lieill'v, Thomas H., Salt I.ake City, Utah.
OShea*. Dr. J. P,. Lynn. Mass.
O'Snllivan, Edward P., Lawrence. Mass.
O'Snllivan, Humphrey. Lowell, Mass.
OSullivan, James, Lowell, Mass,
o'.Snllivan, James T.. Lawrence. Mass.
Pepper, llcv, Oeorore W*., Cleveland, O.
Phclan, Ecbnund, Koxl)ury, Mass.
Phidan. Hon. .John J.. Hri'dircpurt. Conn.
Plunkett, Thonnis, East Livcriiool, Ohio.
<^uinn, Hon. .b'hn, New York City.
Kadikin, Edward P.. Pawtueket, K. L
Kcurdon, Pdnnnnl. Boston, Mass. .
Keardon. Dr. .J. P., Lavvrence. Mass.
Kejian, AV. P., Lawrence, Mass.
Keilly. Jann-s C. Kutland, Vt.
Keillv. John M., t^'olumbus. Ind,
iieilly, Dr. W. P. H,, Ilaverliill. Mass.
Koche, .Tames .IctlVey. Boston, ]\Iass.
Uodwave, Alfred J.. Koxbury, Mass.
Koosevelt. Hon. Theodore. Washing-ton, I*. C.
Kuj:'^l*-s. Henry St«»dd.1rd. AVaketieUl, .Mass.
Kyan. .Juhn, Lowell. Mass.
Kyan. .luhn .L. Ilavi-rhill. .Mass.
Ityan, .Juhn .1., Lawrence, Mass.
Kyan, Patrick IL, L'uwell, .Mass.
Shahan, Kev. Thunias ,1.. Washinjrton, D. C.
Shanaban. Kev. PdmundT., Washingrton, D. C.
Shi-a, C. .).. Lynn, .Mass.
Shea, M J., ("antun, U.
Shea. Kicliard ,J,, Law rence. JIass.
Sliejdian. Dennis IP, Pruvidenec, K. L
Sheridan, Bernard IP, Lawrence, Mass.
Shurtcll, .luscph P.. Salem, Mass.
Smith, .Jciseph, Luwell, Mass.
Smith, Lawrence J., I^owell, Mass.
Smith. Dr. Thomas H.. Lowell, Mass.
Spillane. .Icre B., New Yurk City.
St. Clair. Sam C. Keadint;-, Pa.
SU'vens, Walter P.. Haverhill. .Mass.
Sullixan, Dr. M. V.. Lawrt-nce. Mass.
Sulli\an, b'ufrerti., .Manchester. N. H.
.Siillixun. Timulhy P.. Cuncor<l, N. H.
Sullivan, T. Knssell, Boston, JIass.
.Sullivan. Dr. W. .L. Lawrence, Mass.
Sweeney, P. P., Pllis Islaml. N. Y. Harbor.
.Swcn-ds. .Joseph P.. Ilartl'ord. Conn.
reeling-. \W\ . .\rlbur.l.. Lvnn. Mass,
Thumas, Knbcrt .).. Lowell, Mass.
Tigh. Dr, I'rederiek. Ni-w imryptirl. Mass.
Ti.nmins, Dr, Patrick .L. .Sunth Boston. .Mass.
T«>bin. Capt. Jt>hn .M.. Washingfton. D. C.
Toland. M. A., Jioston, Mass.
Trcanor. J. (I., Nashvilb'. Tenu.
Wiildron. Thomas P.. Haverhill. Mass.
Walsh. Ib)n. Patrick. ,\ug-usta, (bi.
AYard, Patrick. Purllan.l. .Me.
AVciidock. Hon. Thomas A. P., Dctr-.it. .'Mich.
AYelsh, John P.. Purtland, Me.
AVilsun, AYm. Puw er. Hustun, Mass.
AY'tuds, Juhn J., Newburyport. Mass.
AYuuds. Hubert A.. liustoli. .Alass.
AVright, .John B., Haverhill, .Alass.
AYvniu'. Peter. .New York City.

Chocorua from Chocorla Villaoe.

The Granite Monthly.

A^oL. xxni.

OCTOBER, 1897.

No.

GLIMPSES OF TURKEY IX ASIA.
By Ensign Lloyd H. Chandler, U. S. X.

^OYERTY and sufferiug
are about the most vivid
impressions that remain
upon the mind after a
visit to the Asiatic pos-
sessions of the sultan, and there one
■sees enough of these to last for a
lifetime.

Smyrna, the principal cit}- of
Asia Minor, is large enough and
foreign enough, so that the pleas-
ant habits of the Turk are not
^^er}' much in evidence, although
even there it is necessary to have
had a certain amount of previ-
ous training in order to enjoy the
strange sights without being sick-
ened by the cruelty and disgust-
ing filth that are discernible on
every side. In this place, as in
•every port in the Orient, we find
a very mixed population, Turks,
Greeks, Armenians, Italians,
French, with some few inhabi-
tants and many travelers of other
nations. In Smyrna the Greeks
far outnumber the Turks, and for
that reason the place has been

anxiously watched for an uprising
during the late war. Probably the
Greeks did not feel confident enough
of support from their countrymen to
try a revolt that might bring punish-
ment in its track, the Turk being

St. Paul's Gate — Tarsus.

IQO

GLIMPSES OL TURKEY IN ASIA.

A Type of Levantine Beauty.

very expert iu that direction when
inclination and opportunity serve.

Smyrna, being the most prosperous
city of the Orient, has the largest and
most complete bazaar in that region,
and it is here that the interest of the
traveler is centered. Imagine a large
town with very narrow and dirty wind-
ing streets, all roofed over, the houses
at the sides being without front w^alls.
The little alcoves thus formed are oc-
cupied by the merchants, and there
are seen all sorts of interesting goods
spread out in tempting array to draw
out money from the un-
wary. The rugs are
the most attractive fea-
ture, as well as the most
expensive, and many
very beautiful ones
may be seen, at prices
that seem very low
when compared with
those in this country.
These people do not i-ii-
tend to lose the profit
to be made upon cheap
machine-made goods
though, and many of
the interesting Oriental

objects exposed for sale
have been imported
from the factories of
Lyons or of some
other European city.
When it comes to
"ways that are dark"
and ' ' tricks that are
vain," the "heathen
Chinee ' ' is not in it
with the merchant of
. j^- . the eastern Mediter-

ranean.

In these bazaars one
has to exercise constant
caution, to avoid being
flattened by a camel, either by being
stepped upon or b}' being crushed
against a wall. These beasts are
always connected in series, to bor-
row a term, the halter of each being
secured to the harness of the one
preceding, and the whole string being
led by one man, who rides a horse or
a donkey and leads the first camel.
As one of the beasts fills up the en-
tire passageway, the streets being
very short, and as there are often
twenty or more in a caravan, the
bazaar is filled with camels roaming

Alexand'etta or IsUanderun.

GLIMPSES OF TURKEY IN ASIA.

191

Beilan.

about in an apparently utterh^ irre-
sponsible frame of mind. Their soft
feet make absolutely no noise, too,
and it is far from pleasant to the
novice to look up suddenly and find
one of the beautiful (?) heads tower-
ing above one, and to realize that
nothing but great nimbleness and
dexterity will save one from the huge
sandbagging feet. It adds zest to
one's wanderings, though, and I
believe we go abroad in search of
novelty.

And then the dogs ! Oh, the dogs !
Nobody dares kill a dog
in a Moslem countr}-, but
there is nothing to be
said against scalding,
wounding, or maiming
them — anything short of
actual death — and as the
native is about as gentle
minded as our own In-
dian, the condition of the
hordes of dogs may be
readily imagined. It is
beyond description.

Bey rout, in Syria, is
the next city in impor-
tance to Smyrna, and is

principally interesting as
being the seaport of
Damascus, to which place
it is connected by a rail-
road, the concession for
\vhich was obtained from
the Turks, like that from
Jaffa to Jerusalem, by
nuich patience and brib-
ery. Beyrout is also the
site of a large American
college, where a practical
education is given to such
youth of the country as
desire it and can afford
the exceedingly moderate
fees that are required. I believe that
a large amount of free instruction is
also given. It has an especially fine
medical department, and ver}- many
young men take that course and go
out into the countrj^ to try to reduce
the frighful amount of ophthalmia and
other diseases of filth that ravage the
country.

Leaving Beyrout and coasting
north, we depart from the beaten
track of the tourist and get into a
part of the world where nobody ever
goes if he can help it, and finally

Tne New Tomb of Chnst, Jerusalem

192

GLIMPSES OF TURKEY IN ASIA.

Latakiyab Harbor

reach the village of Alexandretta, or,
as the natives call it, Iskanderun.
This is the seaport of Autioch and
Aleppo, and large quantities of licorice
root and pistache nuts are brought
down to the sea here to be exported.
Considerable crude copper is also
brought from thirty days' travel or
more in the country, the mode of con-
veyance being on horse, donkey, or
camel's back. A railroad has been
planned from Alexandretta to Antioch
and Aleppo, but as yet the necessary

permission has not been
granted from Constantino-
ple, and nobody knows
when it will be, if ever.
There is, however, a very
fair carriage road in its
place, which runs up
through the town of Bei-
lan and the mountain pass
of the same name.

It is a ver}- interesting
drive from Alexandretta
up this road about four-
' teen miles to the top of
the pass, whence may be
seen the lake of Anti-
och and the sites of several of the
ver}' early Christian churches. It
was while on this drive that I ob-
served the artless method in which
the Turkish ofhcials transport the

Not up to his Task — How the Turk Rewards Failure.

Soli.

troops from one place to another. A
regiment had been landed from a
troop-ship at Alexandretta the night
before, on their way to Aleppo, and
they had impressed every piece of
live stock in the town that was capa-
ble of bearing a burden, as well as

C/JMPSES OF TURKEY IN ASIA.

193

every vehicle in sight. The
unfortunate owners were at
liberty to go along and
bring back their property
if they wished, and were
allowed to work for the
soldiers on the way. Fail-
ure to go meant absolute
loss of property, and its re-
turn was not so very cer-
tain in any event. I saw-
one camel that, being
rather young, was not up
to his load, and in conse-
quence, he got his throat

Jonah's Pillars

the eastward, where Jonah
landed when the whale got
tired of him. It must be
the right place, they say,
lor there are two stone
pillars there that mark it
as such. Irreverent for-
eign investigators lean to
the belief that these pillars
are a part of an arch
erected by Alexander the
Great, in commemoration

Bridge near Soli.

cut and was left in the
middle of the roads for
the wolves to remove.
We had to get out of
our carriage and let it
be hauled up over a
side hill to get by the
corpse. Of covirse the
soldiers lived on the
country on the way,
taking anything that
they wanted.

About the only his-
toric point of interest
near Alexandretta is a
spot on the shore to

A riamal or Porter, with His Load.

194

GLIMPSES OF TURKEY IN ASIA.

Jonah's Tomb — Tarsus.

of the Battle of Issus, which was un-
doubtedly fought somewhere in the
vicinity.

The route by which Ben Hur re-
turned from Rome to Antioch and
his native land did not lead him
through Alexandretta, for in those
days the river Orontes was navigable
to the cit}' for ships of the size which
they then knew, so the trade of the
city all went by that road, passing to

the southward, by the site of the
present town of Suediah.

Another town w^hich vies with Al-
exandretta in general squalor and
wretchedness is Mersina, a short dis-
tance to the westward, and on the
northern side of the Cxulf of Iskan-
derun. This place, which is also
known as Mersine or Mersyna, is the
seaport of Tarsus and Adana, the
latter city being the seat of govern-

Falls of the Cydnus in Spiing.

(JJMPSES OF TURKEY IN ASIA.

195

meut of the vilayet or province of
Adana, ancient Cilicia, and is con-
nected with them by a carriage road
and railroad also.

Tarsus, having been the home of
Saul, is now filled with sites to which
his name has been attached. St.
Paul's gate, an archway in an old
Roman wall, must undoubtedly have
been there at the proper time ; there-
fore what is more appropriate than
the name? St. Paul's well was
known to have been his, because of
recent years a tile was pulled out of

encamped when Cleopatra sailed up
the river in her wonderful galley to
lead him back to Egypt a captive to
her charms. Among the falls of the
river here, you are shown a basin
hollowed out of the rock by the rush-
ing waters where Alexander is said
to have bathed just after the Battle
of Issus, bringing on an illness which
nearly cost him his life. The stream
is icy cold, being fed by the snow on
the mountains behind, the Taurus
range, and this may well be true,
although probably the bed of the

Mersina.

it bearing the inscription "Paul."
The fact that he was known as Saul
when he lived there does not invali-
date this claim at all.

Tombs of Sardanapalus and of
Jonah are also shown, the latter
looking more like a closed-up bread
oven than anything else. These men
might just as well have been buried
here as anywhere else, so the town
may as well get what credit there is
in it; and does. The river Cydnus is
there, though, beyond a doubt, and
the traveler can select for himself
the meadow where Anthouv was

river has changed enough since then
to make the claims of any particular
spot rather problematical.

About five or six miles to the west-
ward of Mersina, on the coast, is one
of the best preserved of all the ruins
in this part of the country, Pompeiop-
olis. Unfortunately, although it is
in such a good state of ]:> reservation,
it has no particular history, and is
therefore of no great interest at the
present day. It dates back beyond
history, and was desto\-ed and 're-
liuilt many times by various people,
the structure now remaining being

196

A LATTER-DAY PIONEER.

raised by order of Pompey the Great.
It was from this place that Pompey,
the fugitive, sailed for Egypt, there
to meet his death. The town was also
known as Soli, and it is now called
Mezetlu or Hakmoon by the inhabi-
tants of the surrounding country.

Taxes are perhaps the most flour-
ishing product of this much-misgov-
erned country, although I fancy that
that crop is rather difficult to har\'est,
the ground having been already pretty
thoroughly worked out. Ever3^thing
is taxed, and the collection privilege
is sold to the highest bidder, so that
the condition of the people is beyond
description. No native will do any-
thing beyond let himself out by the
day as a laborer, for if he tries any
work by which he may improve him-
self he will be taxed more than one
hundred per cent, on it. There are
many instances similar to that in
which the owner of a promising olive

tree was obliged to cut it down one
year in which it did not bear, because
it was his only source of revenue and
when it failed him he had no way of
paying the tax on it. When the Red
Cross Society tried to help .some of
the sufferers by giving them donkeys
with which to earn a living, the tax
gatherers promptly came around and
seized the beasts in default of pay-
ment of the tax on them, before the
owners had an opportuuit}' to earn
anything.

Of course the country is in a terri-
ble state, and one of the most fertile
lands in the world is onh' advanced,
in a spasmodic kind of a way, by a
few foreigners, who work under the
protection of their consuls, and who
win their wa}^ by buying every Turk-
ish official in sight, at exorbitant
rates. Even the heavy hand of the
Russian bear would be preferable to
this.

A LATTER-DAY PIONEER— FRANK BOLLES.

By Mabel Hill.

^MpRTH of the Sandwich
V mountains, enclosed
by a circle of sombre
peaks, there once lay
a beautiful lake. Cen-
turies ago its outflowing stream, now
called Swift river, cut so deeply be-
tween the .spurs of Chocorua and Bear
mountains that the greater part of the
lake drained away into the vSaco at
Conway, leaving its local bed a fair
and rich-soiled intervale."

Brooding over this land of heights
and hollows, the spirit of its monarch
mountain, grim Chocorua, bows in
mute sym])athy with its sweet mis-

tress, the nestling lake. A joy has
gone from them. Their friend and
minstrel has passed their wa}' for the
last time. Seasons come and go
without him, but the silent sorrow
that per\'ades the forests and hill-
sides neither wanes nor lessens.
Well may Nature herself mourn for
one whose gracious love of all her
secrets inspired him to tell her story
with a master stroke.

With the untimely death of the
scholar and humanitarian, Frank
Bolles, late secretary of Harvard
llniversit}', a keen regret and actual
lo.ss was felt alike bv the lover of

A LATTER-DAY PIONEER.

197

bird and wild flower, "the tramp of
the open road," and the gentle stu-
dent who would read of Nature rather
than investigate her mysteries.

The far-reaching work that Mr.
Bolles accomplished in connection
with his office at the university in
Cambridge has been made known to
the world not only by those whose
pens write with authority, but by the
testimou}- of hundreds of grateful

has identified himself more success-
fully with the Granite state than the
busy secretary of Han'ard. Through-
out his career, an intense love of out-
door life dominated his leisure hours.
Recreation to him was not rest, but
an enthusiastic passion for the coun-
try. All living creatures became his
friends, and as intimacy with them
gave him scientific knowledge of
their natures, he was led most nat-

Frank Bolles.

Harvard students who knew his gen-
erous friendship, — a friendship whose
impetuous sympathy gave him the
key to the hearts of all men, because
he could rejoice with those to whom
joy came quite as keenly as he could
enter into the grief of others.

It is not, however, this philan-
thropic side of Mr. Bolles's nature
which gives occasion for this sketch.
Perhaps no .student of the haunts and
habits of the " tenants " of the woods

virally into becoming their graphic
biographer. Sketches developed as
his excursions into the White Moun-
tains became more and more fre-
quent, and these articles were finally
published together in the volumes
known by the telling titles, " Land
of the Lingering Snow," "At the
North of Bearcamp Water," and
" From Blomidon to Smoky," the
last book covering not only life in the
Chocorua valley, but describing most

198

A LATTER-DAY PIONEER.

vividly his interesting experiences in
the ever beautiful Acadian region.
These three books have given Mr.
Bolles a reputation in England as
an authoritative writer upon nature,
as well as winning for him at Har-
vard the honorary degree of Master
of Arts. Their literary merit is
marked, — the style direct, yet grace-
ful ; above all is the practical knowl-
edge, the vivid detail. We are
amazed at the accuracy and clear-
ness when we remember that the au-
thor's vocation was along quite dif-
ferent lines, and that the pastoral side
of Mr. Bolles's nature was allowed
its freedom only in his leisure hours.

A career so utterly unlike that of
Henrj' D. Thoreau could produce
onl}' unlike results. The critics who
have impulsivel}' compared the two
' ' naturalists ' ' have no ground up-
on which to base their comparison.
Thoreau loved nature for its influ-
ence upon humanity. Mr. Bolles
was a worker for the sake of knowl-
edge. A painstaking student of Na-
ture, he became her painstaking bi-
ographer, differing materiall}' in mo-
tive and method from the Waldeu her-
mit, whose paradoxical convictions
were ever a handicap to his genius.

The one volume of poems from Mr.
Bolles's pen claims for its author the
poetic soul, as his prose work has
claimed for him the scientific mind.
" Chocorua's Tenants," — a collection
of spontaneous verses that tell the
stor}' of swallow, o\'enbird, sparrow,
or crow, as the chance reader may
open the volume, — is an unpreten-
tious work and yet one that demands
a certain respect from the poet, critic,
and ornithologist. Written as they
are in the metre of " Hiawatha," the
casual reader might perhaps cjuestion

a monotou}- in the form of the four-
teen poems, but as one reads into the
heart of the lines and catches their
spirit, he wnll judge that Mr. Bolles
chose wisely in following the older
poet, who also told us a story of the
woods and waters, — a story that still
lives as one of the earliest treasures
of our childhood.

" Bj- the Saco, by the Bearcatiip,
By the mad Pemigewasset,
Where, in winter, moaning tempests
Rack the forests, whirl the snowflakes,
Dwells, in grim and lonel}- glor3'
All the year, the sombre log-cock.
Would you seek him ? Borrow owl wings.
Soft as darkness, light as lake mist;
Learn to tread the leaves with fox feet,
Like the hare to cross the snowdrifts,
Learn to burrow like the woodchuck,
Learn to listen like the partridge,
Learn to wait as does the wildcat,
Learn to start as does the red deer;
Wary, watchful, is the log-cock,
Man among his foes most dreaded."

This advice is but the echo of the
man's own methods. He studied
with alert observation and intense
sympath}' the habits, nay, even the
very secrets, in the lives of the birds
and animals which figure in his
sketches. One cannot read a chap-
ter in these annals of the forest before
he knows something of Mr. Bolles's
own power to watch, to listen, to
wait, and to start. This added pa-
tience and precision, together with
his sympathy and enthusiasm, make
of him an accurate naturalist rather
than merely a cold scientist. With
no sentimentalism bedewing his
pages, they are rife with sugge.stive-
ness of sentiment, and we can get at
the poetic personal equation with
which Mr. Bolles is endowed, al-
though it is difficult to find a half
dozen examples where the mood of
the author influenced his pen. As
an illustration of Mr. Bolles's infinite

A LATTER-DAY PIONEER.

199

patience iu his nature ■work, his own
account of the "sap-orchard" hum-
ming-birds will sen-e admirably. All
summer the little ladies of the air
had been the guests of a group of
gray birches. One by one their sea-
son in the mountains had come to its
close, and by September i Mr. Bolles
writes that it seemed to him that the
last "lady" had gone. "I had
waited ten or fifteen minutes by the
trees and she had not come, though
the sap-suckers were busy at the
drills in their ac-
customed places.
Before finally giv-
ing her up, I
thought that I
would count a
hundred slowly,
and see if that
form of incanta-
tion m i 2: h t not
bring her to her
trees. When I
reached ' ninety-
nine ' and no bird
came, I concluded
that the exact date
of her migration
had been found,
but as I said ' one

hundred ' there was a faint hum in
the still air, and the dainty dipper
appeared with her usual sprightli-
ness."

How honest this confession of the
boy-hearted man ! He would count a
hundred. Such words win us to the
text, and we read with pleasant sym-
pathy just becau.se the human in the
pages belongs to every one of us.
Even in this one incident certain
characteristics of the writer are
marked, — his zeal to know precisely
whether the "dainty dipper" had

Bearcamp Water

really migrated ; the poetical touch
as he refers to my lady humming-
bird by differing titles of dignit}' or
affection ; and his patience to wait
yet a little longer after the silent
quarter of an hour under the birch
trees. Or again we see his inde-
fatigable patience in such a situation
as this : ' ' Lying flat upon my back
on ni}- bedroom floor, with my head
in the fireplace, pillowed upon the
andirons, and my gaze directed in-
tently up the chimney, I watched,

hour by hour, the
strange domestic
doings of two of
ni}^ tenants." Hour
b}' hour ; only the
poetic imagination
that can dissipate
physical discom-
fort would give
such interest even
to the student's
work. L }' i n g
stretched out upon
his back, the nat-
uralist-poet's heart
sang swallow-songs
that give a new
beauty to science
and a closer un-
derstanding of its secrets. One feels
that he knows the author after he
has read Mr. Bolles's books, and he
gets nearer to nature because of his
fellowship with it. But in this in-
stance it is not enough to know the
author's mind. He nuist know the
man. He nuist get close to that
human side which was unusually
rich in the warmest qualities — sym-
pathy, candor, and kindliness of
heart.

It was, perhaps, in the neighbor-
hood of the White Mountains, where

200

A LATTER-DAY PIONEER.

Mr. Bolles had his quiet summer
home, that the richness of his own
broad nature was best seen, — where
the real self of the man was asserted
most frankly. What Frank Bolles
did materially for New Hampshire

The Red-Roofed Cottage.

merits as hearty recognition in its
way as does his work at Cambridge,
or his scientific interest in ornithol-
ogy-

In the summer of 1883, this
" Stroller of New England " became
enthusiastic over the natural beau-
ties in the vicinity of the Chocorua
country. The great mountain domi-
nates the region, across the level
stretches lie the four beautiful lakes,
forming, as he aptly puts it, a perfect
St. Andrew's cross, and down the
valley flows the river Chocorua, a
tumbling stream that loses itself later
in the greater water of the Bear-
camp. At the north, ranging beside
Chocorua, rise Paugus, Passacona-
way, and Whiteface, four connected
mountains, each stamped, however,
with a strong individuality that
grows more apparent as one be-
comes familiar with their scarred
faces or wooded domes. South of
this great fortification, in the town-

ship of Tamworth, lies the village of^
Chocorua, once known as Tamworth
Iron Works village, and just beyond
the little settlement, a mile or two
farther up the river valley, Mr. Bolles-
built the red-roofed cottage at the
end of the ' ' ribbon road ' ' which
skirts one side of the eastern
lake. The author in his sketches-
very often refers to this haven
nestling under the lea of his fa-
vorite mountain. Indeed,
throughout all the volumes-
enough modest reference is made
to the ' ' red-roofed cottage ' ' to
suggest the charm of hospitality.
We can see the genial naturalist
as he sat before the fire of " light
wood," which crackled merrily in
the big chimne}' place, or one.
catches a glimpse through the
sunny windows of the orchard, that
reception-room where his feathered
friends daily congregated. How ten-
derly this bird-lover spoke of the
rights of these happy guests, — "It
was to them that the land belonged,,
not to me, — a waif from the city."

It was during the summer of 1887
that Mr. Bolles took up his residence
at Chocorua, and from that time
until his unexpected death, what
leisure he had to spend away from.
Cambridge was for the most part
devoted to this new home and its
neighborhood. Almost immediately
he began to identify himself with the
people of the district, and to venture
into close fellowship with the village
folk. He had an earnest desire to-
share the best things in life, — S}'m-
pathy and knowledge. Never for a.
moment was Mr. Bolles looked upon
as the intruding, encroaching city-
comer. The spirit of manly coopera-
tion, — the vigor of enterpri.se in de-

A LATTER-DAY PIONEER.

20\

veloping only that which was for the
advantage of all, the intense earnest-
ness he showed in furthering the in-
terests of the conmiuuity, his whole
attitude, in fact, towards Chocorua
and its inhabitants gave him the free-
dom of the town and made him at
one with the people, whose reserve
and suspicious shrewdness is as
marked as their proverbial Yankee
sense.

Not only as the good comrade and
kindly neighbor did Mr. Bolles take
his place among the townspeople ;
as an active worker in the improve-
ment of the village, he became inter-
ested in the librar}-, which now con-
tains a store of well-chosen reading
matter ; and very directly did his in-
fluence tell upon the erection of the
library building. Not onl}' was it
his own project, but he drove from
house to house, collecting subscrip-
tions to found it, leaving in return a
warm glow of enthusiasm in each
home.

Election day brought the Cam-
bridge man to the New Hampshire
village polls with a keen excitement
in the vital issues of town politics.
The sketch entitled " 'lycction Day"
gives a capital description of the lob-
bying system in a country village,
.and the first episodes in the mysteries
of the Australian ballot.

Among the Tamworth friends who
became intimatel}- associated with
Mr. Bolles, was one whose rare
though untutored mind ever proved a
•storehouse of interest to the college-
bred man. No one in the Bearcamp
valley better knows the blossoms in
their seasons, the birds in their habi-
tats, and the fish in their waters,
than the unscientific yet widely ex-
perienced Sumner (xilman. For

hours together these two tramps of
the forest scoured the country : the
student gaining from the son of Na-
ture intrinsic facts and theories
which served the scientific worker
better than text-book or glossary.

On the other side of the mountains
which form the barricade between
the valley of the Bearcamp and the
Swift River inter\-ale, in the town-
ship of Albany, lies another settle-
ment, far more wild and primitive
than the village of Tamworth. Pas-
saconawa}', a lonely hamlet of a few
scattered farms and lumber camps, is
situated in the palm of a hand whose
fingers stretch out into long moun-
tain spurs and ridges. The outlying
district, which follows the Swift river
on its way to the Saco, is a barren,
smitten land. Now and then one
passes a group of empty shanties,
the only reminder of more pros-
perous logging days ; and a half
dozen dreary, abandoned homesteads,
windowless, doorless, and weather-
beaten, suggest a past of tragedy as

The Gate on the Ribbon Road.

well as of homely interests and do-
mestic joy. The heartstrings tighten
as one gazes into these eyeless ghosts
of homes, and the whole region takes
upon itself the sadness of the thought.
For more than fortv vears no out-

202

A LA TTER-DA Y PIONEER.

let southward from this valley has
been passable for travelers. Only at
the north, sixteen miles away, is an
accessible neighbor-village for the
settlers of Passaconaway. Mr.
Bolles's own pen has given the pic-
ture of this hamlet after an excursion
into its midwinter heart.

" By the road upon which the lake
went out, man in time came in and
founded in the bosom of the spruce-
grown mountains a small but com-
parativety prosperous- settlement.
The township of Albany knows no
priest or physician, squire or shop-

The Library Building.

keeper, and in its coat of arms, if it
had one, the plow and rifle, axe and
circular saw w^ould be quartered with
bear and porcupine, owl and grouse.
From the head of the inter\^ale the
people are forced to travel nearh-
thirty miles to reach and bring home
their mail and groceries. Though
their only road to the outside is long
and rough, they let no moss gather
on it in summer, and no snowdrifts
blockade it in winter."

On one of the many visits which
Mr. Bolles made to the Albany inter-
vale when following with rifle the
sportsman's bent in summer, or in
winter on snow-shoes penetrating the
forest files with trapper's zeal, he

tells us of listening one night to the
story of the original settlers in the
valley, — for the most part lumber
men, — and learning that through the
dark passes of Paugus and Chocorua
there had been at one time a road,
or something answering to one, of
which all trace had been lost after a
might}- storm had swept into the
opening, with hurricane and tempest,
carrying with it a magnificent ruin.
The thought instanth* flashed into
the mind of this humanitarian that
the lost trail might be found and that
once more communication might be
opened between the neighboring
townships, reducing at least a third
the journe}' of thirty miles from the
southern spur of Paugus to its north-
ern wall.

Mr. Bolles tells the story of "Fol-
lowing a Lost Trail" in the volume,
"At the North of Bearcamp Water."
The smack of adventure, the charm
of the wild country, and the excite-
ment incident to cutting the new
trail through " harricanes " and over
ledges are described in a language
peculiarly picturesque and, vivid.

Nothing escapes his eyes, as he
and his guide, together with Na-
thaniel Berry, an experienced farmer
of Tarn worth, pu.sh forward upon
their exploring expedition. He notes
carefully the vegetation ; its decreas-
ing variation as they penetrate into
the forest ; the increasing growth of
the timber that covers the hillsides.
No bird passes unnoticed ; the ab-
sence of the squirrel is felt ; the very
workings of the insects he investi-
gates as he follows the guide, or him-
self takes the lead in marking out
the route. Mr. Berry had remem-
bered from his boyhood that forty
odd 3^ears before part of the trail had

A LA TTER-DA Y PIONEER.

20'

beeu re-opened, and for three or four
miles it was evident to their expe-
rienced eyes, accustomed to forest
travel, that such must have been the
case, for a continuous strip of lighter
timber marked the probable course.
Beyond this three miles of trail all
was primeval forest growth, and there
was nothing more for the exploring
party to do but to ' ' head north ' ' and
' ' spot the trees ' ' as they pushed for-
ward.

The ' ' lost trail " is a pretty bridle
path to-day, and the forest traveler
may easily wend his way from Bear-
camp to Swift river through the
passes of Paugus and over the lower
spur of Chocorua. The morning that
Mr. Bolles opened his new-found path
" a gay column wound its way through
the forest, following the regained trail.
Nearly a score of axes, hatchets, and
savage machettas resounded upon the
trees and shrubs which encroached
upon the road. Behind the axe-
men came several horses, each bear-
ing a rider as courageous as she
was fair. If branches menaced the
comfort of these riders, they were
speedil}' hewn away; if the hobble-
bush hid hollows or boulders in the
road, it was cvit off at the root ; if a
ford or a bog offered uncertain foot-
ing to the snorting horses, strong
hands grasped their bridles and they
were led through to surer ground.
The ridge was met and stormed, the
' harricane ' 'was safely pierced, and
the old lumber road was followed
swiftly down to the grass land and
highway of the Albany Intervale."

In talking not long ago with Jack
Allen, the famous trapper of this re-
gion, and "the guide" whose com-
panionship is often referred to by
Mr. Bolles, the writer of this sketch

found a rare historian of the Albany
country. While speaking of the nat-
uralist and his love of the woods, the
White Mountain sportsman emphati-
cally declared, "Trailing 's an in-
stinct. A guide's instinct 's a gift.
If Mr. Bolles had n't been educated,
he 'd have been the best guide I ever
knew. But his brains spoiled his
instinct. He never had the right
chance to exercise it, and .sometimes
his reason would get to working and
end it all."

The wild, unkempt landscape that
stretches away to the south of Jack
Allen's house was softened by the
June shadows. All along the road-
sides great masses of purple rhodora
bloomed in mad extravagance, never
more plainh' making its beauty its
"own excuse for being." In the
cool pools the pitcher-plants grew
in quiet content, and big dog-tooth
violets nodded to each other from the
grasses. The trapper himself was
softened by the day, and spoke from
the kindliest recesses of the heart,
while we stood in the sunshine, talk-
ing of the Cambridge man who had
come for a brief time into the life of
the little hamlet. A certain pride in
the friendship of this New England
"stroller" is a characteristic trait
among the people of Passaconaway.
Be it the goodlj- farmer's wife, or the
little child " Diddy " of the sketches,
or the rough-hewu trapper himself,
one and all speak gently of the man
who came into their midst as a friend
and fellow-worker.

This pride is natural ; there is that
in the humanitarian which compels
love. It is an instinct in man and
child to seek sympathy, and to re-
vere the blessings which come in an
assurance of faith. The ever-readv

204 BETSEY SLEEPER.

interest which Mr. Bolles took iu his latter-day pioneer of New Hamp-

fellow-nien was an unselfish interest ; shire's wildest mountains came

as in scientific work, his mental alert- among the quiet village folk and

ness gave him a keen insight into the taught them that no barrier from an

lives of the Chocorua birds and flow- educational point of view need exist

ers, so his moral alertness opened for between man and man. He gave

him the pages of human nature, and freely of his mind and heart. And

he read man accuratel}- yet affection- in exchange he won the reverence

ately. Well ma}- the hearts of the that comes to him only whose

Granite people soften with tenderness strength is tempered b}' brotherly

at the mention of their friend. This love.

BETSEY SLEEPER.'

By Marian Douglass.

In the burned clearing of the wood,

In its lone cabin's open door,

With wistful eyes a woman stood.

And, homesick, listened to the roar

Of the loud stream, behind the wall

Of the swamp hemlocks, thick and tall,

As down the steep rocks, strong and free,

It leaped in haste to reach the sea.

' ' Would I could follow it ! " she sighed ;

^' Home lies the way its waters run ; —

The pleasant houses, and the wide.

Green meadows glowing in the sun ! —

But here, what pleasure can be found?

The lone woods closing all around,

And not, in all this dreary place,

To look in mine a woman's face !

Strong hands, stout hearts, brave men, but oh,

What man a woman's thoughts can know!"

But as, desponding, she looked down.

On the fire-blackened ground, anew,

From the heaped ashe;s, golden-brown,

She saw the young ferns peering through,

And, by the door, before unseen,

She spied some herds-grass growing green ;

The grass whose light plumes' purple hue

Tinged the June fields her childhood knew !

'The fii'st woman resident of Bristol, N. II.

DEA IH. 205

Touched by the charm that memory lent,
The weary soul to greet it smiled,
And over it, delighted bent,
With fondling words, as to a child ; —
" Grow tall and fair, spread far and wide,

little tuft of English grass !
Send out thy roots on every side ;

Grow strong, ere summer days shall pass !
For, when thy slender blades I see,

1 seem again a girl to be ;

The fields of Sandown bloom for me !
A messenger from home thou art —
Sweet little whisperer to my heart !"
So all that weary summer through,
A treasured thing 'twas joy to tend.
The herds-grass, by the door-way, grew,
The lonely woman's voiceless friend ; —
Still dear in thought, when, gray and old,
Of "settler's life" her tales she told,
And never let unmentioned pass
Her comforter, that tuft of grass.

DEATH.

I>y Fletcher Harper Swifl .

Eike careless children, w^e had straj-ed,
My Eove and I, one summer's da}',
When on my breast she sank afraid,
And, speechless, pointed to the way.
I looked and shrank in helpless fear,
Yet clasped her closer to my heart ;
A demon voice shrieked, " I am here" —
And blood-wet claws tore us apart.

I sat alone in stone-faced grief.

When through the bitter shadows came.

To whisper in my ear relief,

A beauteous one of hidden name.

He clasped me gently in his arms,

He tempered every sobbing breath :

" Thy name, O Oueller of alarms ? "

He answered, " Some have called me Death.

y/a^Vi ij.--M.t/

r^^/^ ^p'-^O

NAHUM ROBINSON.

By Clarence Joliiison.

HE late Nahum Robin-
sou, of this city, who
died in office as warden
of the New Hampshire
state prison, October ii,
1896, was born in the neighboring
town of Pembroke, November 10,
1829.

iVIr. Robinson was one of those
substantial, reliable, useful citizens
in the community, whose life is
worth more than a passing notice,
one of those staunch, admirable men
whose characters have made New
Hampshire what it is, whose word
was as good as his bond, and who
never swerved in friendship or fidel-
it}' to duty.

He came of both Scotch and Eng-
lish ancestry. Tradition has it that
his father's family, in which there
were twelve sons and daughters,
were all together only once, and then
only for a few minutes. The elder
•children had left the homestead and
gone out into the world before the
younger ones were born.

On a memorable Sunday morning,
June 23, 1833, Jonathan Robinson
and Lucy, his wife, the father and
mother of Nahum, attempted a re-
union of the family, but hardly was
the considerable circle completed
when they were startled by the
awful cry of "Murder! Murder!"
It came from the premises of the
nearest neighbor, and harrowed the
hearts of all who heard it.

It was then that was perpetrated
the brutal and historic murder of
Mrs. Sally Cochran, by Abraham
Prescott, an over-grown, eighteen-
year-old, half-imbecile boy, who made
his home with the Cochrans. He
was afterward publich' hanged at
Hopkinton. The first alarm given
of that famous traged}- scattered the
Robinson household never to meet
again on earth.

Nahum's earlier years were given
to attending district school and to
agriculture, the sukstratum of all
other pursuits. As he became a
3^oung man, he engaged himself as
an apprentice to his brother, the late
Henry Martin Robinson, of this city,
and very thoroughly learned the trade
of a mason and brick-builder.

There are disastrous years in the
story of the material progress of Con-
cord, years when the frequent gener-
al alarm of fire from a half-dozen ter-
ror-striking church bells meant the
lapping out of a whole square, the
devastation of thousands of dollars in
real estate. The fire department,
very largely in those days a volun-
teer ser\dce, struggled manfully
throughout many a large confla-
gration, but the facilities for watei
and the appliances for extinguish-
ing flames were far from their pres-
ent efficiency. Upon the various
ruins, however, were built the solid
structures, the handsome business
blocks that are such an auxiliary to

208

NAHUM ROBINSON.

our success as a cit}-, and such or-
naments especially to our principal
thoroughfare.

The chief builder in those days
was Nahum Robinson, and such Con-
cord capitalists as the late Nathaniel
White and the late James R. Hill,
who did so much to rebuild and im-
prove our business community, re-
lied very especially upon his integ-
rity, skilful, practical knowdedge, and
indefatigable devotion. He was for

Board of Trade, the original Me-
chanics National bank, the former
high school, St. Paul's school build-
ings, White block, Columbian block,
Sanborn block, Morrill Brothers'
block, Woodward blocks, etc., etc.
He was the first building agent of
the elegant United States post-office
edifice, and superintended the con-
struction of the railway passenger
and freight stations, in this city, and
also those at lyaconia, and was, in

View of Main Street, Concord, looking Soutn.

many years a faithful, diligent, prac-
tical worker and all-round mechanic,
and he naturally developed into an
extensive contractor, and a w'ise, con-
scientious, and sagacious superinten-
dent of general building operations,
not excelled in New England. The
capital city is lined with lasting
monuments to his unflagging indus-
try and commendable enterprise.
He was concerned in the construc-
tion of various blocks, residences,
and other buildings, such as the

fact, continuously employed as regu-
lar builder for the Concord railroad
company for a long time, being de-
voted exclusively to that branch of
the interests of the corporation for
ten 3'ears, throughout which he was
held in uncommon respect and re-
gard by the board of eminent direc-
tors and the heads of its several de-
partments, as well as all the employes.
Such private residences as those of
vSamuel vS. Kimball and the late
Charles Minot, in this city, and of

NAHUM ROBINSON.

209

Benjamin A. Kimball, at Lake 7::^
Shore park, and many more that
might be mentioned in this con-
nection, are substantial evidences
of his superior workmanship and
management, and of the high
confidence in which he was held.
It was only four or five 3-ears
ago that he spent a year in Wor-
cester, Mass., upon urgent re-
quest, to overlook the construc-
tion of the great Harrington &
Richardson pistol factory there,
a building four stories high, 2 So
feet long. 60 feet wide, with an
immense tower. So promptly
and exceedingly satisfactorily
did Mr. Robinson carry out the
comprehensive specifications, and
perform his responsible mission,
that his employers and other pro-
minent citizens of Worcester urged
him earnestly to remain with them
and make his home in that citv,
assuring him of much additional
work ; but no offers of pay or posi-
tion, however generous, could in-
duce him to remain permanently from
the city of his home, to the inter-
ests of which he was always true
and loyal, and with the development
of which he had been so long and
so closely identified, and in the
steady growth of which he, although
a proverbially modest and retiring
gentleman, had been such an impor-
tant factor.

Harrington & Richardson Arms Co.

Residence of Samuel S. Kimball, Concord.

He superintended the building of
our new .state prison, and when,
nearly three years ago, he was se-
lected by John B. Smith, then gov-
ernor, and by John C Ray and Judge
Frank N. Parsons, then of the coun-
cil, as the best man to assume the
management and control of the insti-
tution, it was the universal verdict
that their choice was a good one.

Governor Busiel and his council
gladly reappointed him warden, and
his record at the head of the peniten-
tiar}- is one of the very best. The
discipline was, perhaps, less rigorous,
but not less perfect ; health, order,
industry , excellent management
throughout, and reasonable thrift
prevailed in ever}- department in
detail.

The first year of his administration
showed an almost incredible change
of man}- thousands of dollars from the
debit to the credit side of the finan-
cial status of the institution, making

NAHL \M JW BIX SOX

211

it much better than self-sustaining,
while formerly it was a big annual
expense to the state. The next year,
with the increased rates allowed by
the contractors for convict labor, the
result was as gratifying. To the
whole work of his responsible position
the late warden gave his best quali-
ties with unsparing diligence, treating
the convicts gently and yet firmly,
holding their esteem and confidence,
and yet caring for their wants, and
treatino- them as unfortunate men

that humanity is capricious and
unreliable, that the more advanced
forms of civilization are leading peo-
ple into fickleness and insincerity,
but, with the strong, noble men who
are gone and who are fast going,
who laid the foundation for our
successes as a people, our happiness
and our prosperity, there was noth-
ing of the tinsel, nothing of the un-
substantial. They may have lacked
something of fashionable veneering,
but the structural timbers of their

Concord & Montreal Railroad Passenger Station at Laconia.

and women entitled to careful con-
sideration.

Although of genial manners, good
address, a wholesome presence, Na-
hum Robinson belonged to the .stead-
fa.st old-school of standard citizenship
about which there was no dross, on
which there w^as no discount. He
was a happy, companionable man,
especially in his family and with his
social friends, but resolute, trust-
worthy, and solid as a business
manager. In this day and genera-
tion we sometimes get the notion

manhood were of well-seasoned oak.
Those who have gone did up and
closed a good life's work, and died
like philosophers, with no reproach
upon their characters, glorious ex-
amples of mortal stability, of splen-
did faithfulness, of valuable achieve-
ment.

Mr. Robinson was married once
only, — to Mary Ann Lake, of Chi-
chester, N. H. vShe was a refined
and accomplished lady, of charming
personality, a remarkably devoted
wife and mother. They had only

212

NAHUM ROBINSON.

one child, a son, who sun'ives them,
Hon. Henr}' Robinson, also of Con-
cord, whose popular successes at the
bar, and especially as a journalist, and
officially as representative, state sena-
tor, postmaster, and ma^'or of his
native city, were a great pride to
his father, an indulgent and loving
parent.

While Nahum Robinson never
sought office, or prominence of any
kind, and shrank instinctive! 3' from
publicity and conspicuousness in

every form of dissipation a wide
berth. His private life was simple,
calm, painstaking and prepossessing :
his temperament cheerful ; his dispo-
sition very hopeful, charitable, and
encouraging. The bent of his mind
was eminently mechanical and prac
tical, and yet he loved fun, and his
dealings with his fellow- men were
kindly, just, and tolerant, and un-
mistakably those of a master-hand.
His great forte, his chief point of
command, was as overseer of whole-

United States Post-Office Building, Concord

every form, his real merit was gen-
erally known, appreciated and ac-
knowledged. He spoke well of all
humankind, if he spoke at all. If
the local waves of gossip were ruffled
now and then, he never added to
their turbulence. But he was an ex-
ceedingly apt and close obsen-er of
men and things, a diligent reader of
the daily newspapers, and very in-
tensely interested in current events,
even to his last hours. He thor-
oughly detested shams, frauds, and
akes, and from his youth up, gave

sale operations, and yet the minutiae
of every enterprise entrusted to his
charge came in for considerate atten-
tion. He was a student of human
nature ; his vision was clear, he saw
things in their true light, and com-
prehended almost intuitively their
workings and relative importance.
His whole career was a con.secutive
commentary on the material making
of the town and city of Concord, and,
besides, he was the contractor else-
where in the erection of various
structures of wood, stone, and of

NAHUM ROBINSON.

brick. When he was a journeyman
worker himself, carrying up the cor-
ners of big blocks, it was his custom
to allow his young son to lay a brick
at some conspicuous point in the
walls of each, and there are several
such, here and there, in different
prominent buildings of the state.

"When Nahum Robinson passed
away, United States Senator Chand-
ler said feelingl}^ of him :

"He was wise, energetic, strong.
There was no weakness of character
in him. He was careful about going

His management of the prison not
only reflects great credit on his abil-
ity, but is an honor to the state."

Col. Thomas P. Cheney, of the
prison committee of the executive
council, pertinently remarked :

' ' We have all lost a strong and
valuable man, one whom we could
ill afford to lose, and whose place can
hardly be filled."

Ex- Governor John B. Smith spoke
earnestly in praise of Warden Rob-
inson :

' ' I have never had occasion to be

New Hampshire State Pnson, of which Nahum Robinson was Building Superintendent and Warden.

in, but stayed when he went in. A
good citizen, a kind friend, a power-
ful associate has left me ; they are
departing so rapidly that I am sure
from this cause, if from no other,
that I am growing old myself, alas
too fast ! ' '

Hon. Charles A. Busiel, then chief
executive of the state, testified to his
credit in the following words:

" In the death of Warden Robin-
son, the state is deprived of one of its
most faithful and efficient servants.
He has performed with great care
and fidelity the trust imposed in him.

other than proud myself of my ap-
pointment of him to the place."

The newspaper press generalh'
eulogized Mr. Robinson, a Laconia
paper saying :

' ' The residents of this city had oc-
casion to know the deceased at his
best, during the erection of our
freight and passenger stations, in
1 890 and 1 8g I , as he scarcely ever
failed to put in an appearance on the
'paper train' daily, from the laying
of the foundation to the finish. Gen-
ial, whole-.souled, and generous, Na-
hum Robinson is no more. And none

214

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

among the many to whom he was
known will more deeph* regret his
taking from earth than the numer-
ous friends he attracted during his
temporary sojourn here."

I believe the theory to be correct
that the places of such men are never
filled. Every individual is cast in a
separate mould, which is then broken.
Other men will come, perhaps strong-
er, abler, worthier, more competent,
who will start a new order of things,
a better regime it may be, but that
particular niche left vacant in the
wall of time will remain so. The
world will go on, knowledge and wis-
dom will spread their wings, there

will be improvements, advances, tre-
mendous strides in invention and dis-
covery, but our worthy ancestors wnll
find no successors in the especial mis-
sions to which they seemed individu-
ally born, and so faithfully, self-sac-
rificingly and self-effacingly sub-
served.

As Victor Hugo might put it, —
' ' Slowly they flicker out ; now they
tovich the horizon ; mysteriously the
darkness attracts them. . . . L,o !
at the other extremity of space where
the last cloud has l^ut now faded, in
the deep sky of the future, azure for-
evermore, rises, resplendent, the sa-
cred galaxy of the true stars."

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

By Henry Robinsoti.

MPRISONMENT in an-
cient times was more
especially to oppress
and to wrong, rather
than to restrict and to
reform. The old idea of a prison
was a secure and dingy fortress, in
the impregnable masonry of the sub-
terranean tombs of which to confine
the troublesome subjects of despotic
rulers, to isolate, torture, murder,
the objects of envy, jealousy, and
vengeance.

On the right-hand side of the choir-
screen in St. Paul's, Eondon, stands
a handsome, full-length marble statue
to the illustrious memor}^ of John
Howard, the great pioneer prison
philanthropist, to whom unfortunate
humanity is immeasurably indebted.
The vessel on which he had em-
barked for a voyage to Lisbon, to
view the effects of the earthquake.

was captured, and Howard was ruth-
lessly thrown into a F'rench prison,
the hardships of which awakened his
realization of the terrible outrages
that were being perpetrated in the
name of justice. He became a radi-
cal prison reformer, and his soulful,
intelligent, and comprehensive labors
revolutionized the prison systems of
the whole world. His great work
was caught up by Bentham, who
planned a prison that should be not
only secure, but healthful, and as
cheerful as would be consistent with
the objects to be attained. The de-
sign was seized by Sir Samuel Rom-
illy, who besought parliament in the
project, and, in 1811, was erected the
famous penitentiary of Millbank,
which may be said to be the foun-
dation stone in the enlightened
regime of prison management.

Into this new, wide field of endeav-

THE NFAV HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

215

or, pushed the Prison Discipline so-
ciety, with such active, energetic mem-
bers as Mr. Buxton and Mrs. Frye,
whose names will go down to poster-
ity as lasting lights to misguided men
and women.

The record of progress in the con-
struction and conduct of prisons, from
the torturous dungeons, the noisome
dens of disease and death, in the
Dark Ages, to the beneficent in-
dustrial schools and sanitary re-
formatories of to-day, is an enter-
taining and instructive one, but too
voluminous for repetition here. It is
a history of persistent and indefati-
gable effort that has kept pace with
the advancing column of Christian
civilization, and has done more than
anything else, except possibly the
abolishment of slavery, for the eman-
cipation, relief, and upraising of the
human race.

The objects of imprisonment are
theoretically ( i ) to protect the pub-
lic from a dangerous individual, (2)
to deter the criminal from further
crime, (3) to reform him, and (4)
to punish him ; and it seems almost
an anomaly that, of these purposes,
punishment is the last and the least,
for none except the court of heaven,
an omniscient and an all-wise God,
can undertake to award and apportion
in exact and absolute justice, penal-
ties to the mortals of earth, varied
and different as we all are in our in-
stincts, environments, temperaments,
conditions, and circumstances. So
veritable is this, that the truism,
' ' There are worse men outside than
inside prison walls," is a common
saying.

The sanguinary real-life dramas of
the Bastille, the Vincennes, the
Chatelet with its ugly caverns, the

Conciergerie with its damp and dingy
torture chamber, and the other in-
famous prisons of Old Paris, and
even of Newgate, and of the Tower
of London, and of many another
dreadful fortress, with a record,
l)lack with brutality and wrong, if
not red with crime, come down to
us in marked contrast to the humane,
healthful, and comparatively cheer-
ful penitentiaries of to-day.

The prevailing policy of prison ad-
ministration has been authoritatively
defined to be a system of just and
effective repression, a necessary safe-
guard to the peace, security, and
good order of society, the principal
problem being to isolate the convict,
and to accomplish his reformation
without sacrificing the principle of
punishment ; to test to what extent
the voice of charitable humanity can
be obeyed without weakening the
act of correction and rendering it
elusive by mitigation; how a just
anxiety for the individual can be
reconciled to the interests of society ;
how we can at the same time punish
the malefactor and protect the com-
munity, by which means childhood
and youth can be saved from the
contagion of vice, — in a word, the
criminal from the first relapse to
evil.

M. Ferdinand Desportes, an ac-
complished secretary of the Sociele
Generale des Prisons, and the author
of "La Science Penitentiaire," in his
preface to that remarkable work, ob-
serves that such questions are calcu-
lated to arouse the solicitude of the
Christian, the moralist, the philoso-
pher, and the constant consideration
of statesmen worthy of the name, and
if anything can aid in the solution it
is the tried experience of civilized

2l6

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

nations, the acquaintance with the
examples they furnish, the counsels
and suggestions of discerning men,
who, in different places, have passed
their liv^es in a profound study of
these problems.

At the conclusion of his valuable
contribution to penal literature, M.
Desportes remarks that prison reform
will succeed everywhere, because it
will be ever3^where desired. Our
century, which has required and
prepared for it, could see it fully
accomplished. In a few years there
will no longer be a people who do
not comprehend that it is for their
interest not only to arrest crime, but
to dry up the source ; not only to pun-
ish, but to render punishment useless ;
not only to construct prisons, but to
empty them.

The international prison congresses
have been powerful auxiliaries in
carrying forward this worthy move-
ment. The first assemblies of this
kind were mainly European, and the
opening one was held, in 1845, at
Frankfort-on-the-Main. It consisted
of eighty members, and the United
States, England, France, Italy, Prus-
sia, and some other countries were
creditably represented. This congress
adopted a resolution favoring cellular
imprisonment, the revision of penal
codes, and the establishment of pa-
tronage societies. The next year a
second congress was held in Brussels,
at which over two hundred members
were present. The session continued
three days, and the discussions were
able and interesting. These con-
gres.ses, which have been continued,
have contributed inestimably to im-
provement in prison government, and
in eradicating and mitigating the va-
rious evils and hardships which sub-

serve no legitimate purpose in the
life of a convict.

I do not hesitate to say that the
New Hampshire state prison has
been as successful in its general
management as any institution of
the kind, wherever found. Not that
the discipline has always been what
it should be, and not that there has
not been somewhat of wrong and er-
ror in the business management, but,
taken as a whole, the care of the in-
mates and the conduct of business
affairs there have been commendable.

The architect of a prison is nowa-
days instructed to design one from
which escape is impracticable, the
sanitation of which is as near perfec-
tion as possible, the areas and the ave-
nues for light and air as ample as
they should be, and everything made
consistent with the best physical
health and moral welfare of the pris-
oners.

It was at the verj- opening of our
present century that our state began
to feel the need of a prison. In 1804,
Governor Oilman, in his message to
the legislature, in June of that year,
suggested the demand, and a com-
mittee was accordingly appointed to
take into consideration the propriety
of erecting such a structure, the com-
mittee to report to the next session of
the general court a plan and esti-
mates, and, agreeably to instruc-
tion, the committee responded, at
the June session, 1805, with the de-
sired information ; but some obsta-
cle interposed, and nothing further
was done with the project until the
June session of 18 10. At that ses-
sion, the committee to whom the sub-
ject was referred, made a report,
which was adopted, that a prison be
erected in Concord, under certain con-

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

211

ditions as to its location and construc-
tion. Mason and Woodbury, and
other influential men of that day,
favored the enterprise.

The committee nominated as com-
missioners to have charge of the con-
struction, Benjamin B. Bowling, of
Hopkinton, William A. Kent and
lyieut. Jeremiah Pecker, both of Con-
cord, and recommended the erection
of a state prison and its appurte-
nances, to be begun in April, 1811.
A site for it was selected in what
was then regarded a remote region
of the town, it being thought desir-
able to have it removed from the
centre of business and of population.
State street was not then laid out as
a public highway, and it was neces-
sary to build a road especially for
the uses of the state prison, which
was located near the i unction of what
at this day is a thicklj^-populated
communit_\'. The lot originally com-
prised two acres and four rods, and
was deeded to the state by Joshua
Abbott, of Concord, for the nominal
consideration of one hundred dollars.
The ov^erseer of the work was Stuart
J. Park, who afterward superintended
the building of the state house.

The prison was built of granite
quarried from Rattlesnake hill. The
section which afterward became
known as the south wing was the
first constructed. It was seventy
feet in length, thirty-six wide, with
walls three feet in thickness. In
this the prisoners were confined.
There were in all thirty-six cells,
the dimensions of which were eight
feet by nine, with the exception of
six in the upper story for the accom-
modation of the sick, which were ten
feet by seventeen. The yard was af-
terward fenced in by a faced wall of

granite fourteen feet high, surrounded
by a range of pickets ten feet in length.
The first cost of the building to the
state, with the appurtenances, was
537>o69.76, but subsequent enlarge-
ments, from time to time, increased
its cost to $75,000. It was com-
pleted, ready for occupancy, Novem-
ber, 1 81 2. The first prisoner com-
mitted to the institution was one
John Drew, of Barnstead, N. H.
He was committed for horse steal-
ing, November 23, 1S12, for five
years. P'or ♦several months he was

The Oid State Prison.

the sole tenant of that grim and
gloomy castle. He was pardoned
May 15, 1816. "The first man!"
exclaimed one of the early chaplains
of the prison, "but what a sad train
has followed and will follow ! ' '

In the course of time, as the popu-
lation of the state increased, the num-
ber of convicts also increased, and
the capacity of the prison was not
sufficient to give decent accommo-
dations to the prisoners. On May
31, 1 83 1, the number of inmates was
82, the whole number of cells being
only 36. Cots had to be placed in the
corridors and hall, and in the rooms

2l8

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

designed for the sick, very improper
and exceedingly unsafe and incon-
venient places. The legislative rec-
ord shows that a special meeting of
that bod}^ reported that the warden
was under the necessity of crowding
five or six, and in some instances
seven or eight, into a cell during the
night. An addition to the prison
was imperatively demanded, and a
resolution was passed June iS, 1831,
appropriating $3,000 toward that pur-
pose, and authorizing the governor
and council to appoint a suitable per-
son to superintend its erection. Thus
begun, the north wing, as it was
styled, of the old prison was com-
pleted in 1833, containing 127 cells,
and the prison yard was enlarged by
moving the north wall further north.
The expense of erecting and furnish-
ing the north wing, and of taking
down and rebuilding the north wall,
not including the labor of convicts,
reached $12,000. Various changes
were made, at different times, in the
interior of the old prison and addi-
tions to the workshop, the details of
which are no longer interesting.

But the original prison, enlarged
as stated, became, after a series of
years, again too small, and was in a
dangerously overcrowded condition,
so much so that it was obvious that
it must either be still further enlarged,
or a new one erected. It was not,
however, until 1877 that an act was
passed authorizing the erection of a
wholly new prison, which was ur-
gently demanded, not only by con-
siderations of humanity and econ-
omy, but also for the advancement
of the public interests, and for the
protection and security of the public
peace and public safety. This act
authorized the governor, with advice

of the council, to appoint three com-
missioners to procure plans and speci-
fications for the purpose, and carry
forward the enterj^rise. The prison
buildings, together with offices, work-
shops, and other appurtenances, were
to be of sufficient capacity to accom-

Prisoners Marching in from Work.

modate and employ two hundred con-
victs. This act of authorization and
empowerment is an elaborate and
guarded one in its provisions. John
Kimball of Concord, Albert M.
Shaw of lycbanon, and Alpha J.
Pillsbury, now of Tilton, were ap-
pointed commissioners, an uncom-
monly well-qualified and reputable
board. They were formally called
together, August 28, 1877, duly
qualified, and organized by the
choice of John Kimball as chair-
man and acting secretary. Nahum
Robinson was subsequently chosen
building superintendent. He was
referred to in the final report of the
commissioners as being a builder
who came with a large experience,

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

219

and devoted all of his lime to carry-
ing out and furthering their plans
and directions, watching all the de-
tails of the varied classes of work
during its progress under different
contractors, with commendable zeal,
ability, and faithfulness, possessing
in a high degree those traits which
are necessary to carry on successful!}^
large public operations, and deserv-
ing the thanks of those whom he
served so satisfactoril)^ and well.

The site of the present prison build-
ings, which present a familiar specta-
cle to the traveling public, is on the
westerly side of the highway leading
from Concord to Boscawen, distant
one and one-half miles from the state
house, the lot of land comprised in
the premises being in the neighbor-

A Corridor of Ctlls.

hood of two thousand feet in length
along the highway, and five hun-
dred and fifty feet deep, containing
twenty-one acres, and being situated
near the electric and steam railway
tracks. The buildings command a
fine view of the Merrimack river val-

ley for more than ten miles. From
the front can be seen the pictur-
esque hills of Canterbury, Loudon,
Lvpsom, Chichester, and East Con-
cord with its beautiful village. To
the west and north, nearby, are the
celebrated Concord granite quarries.
The track of the Boston & Maine
railroad extends conveniently by
level grade into the prison yard
without crossing the highway. The
premises are too familiar to people in
general to warrant giving a detailed
description. Briefly they include :

1. The warden's house, 57 hy 4S 3-4 feet, two
stories high, contains 20 rooms, of sufficient
capacity to accommodate the warden, deputj-
warden, and their families.

2. The central building, 54 by 66 feet, three
stories high, is used for the warden's office,
guard-room, chapel, hospital, lavatory, receiv-
ing-room, library, and cook-room.

3. The north wing, 247 by 46 feet, contains
248 cells for male convicts. Each cell is 8 feet
long, 6 leet wide, and 7 1-2 feet high, and is
furnished with furniture necessar3' for the con-
venience and health of the occupant. Thej-
are built of brick, cement, and iron, and venti-
lated by an 8-inch flue extending to the roof of
the building.

4. The south wing, 80 by 46 feet, is used for
cells for the female convicts, a dining-room for
subordinate officers, matron's room, lodging-
rooms, and kitchen.

5. The main building, comprising the central
building and north and south wings, is located
125 feet from the highwaj', and stands 90 feet
above the water in the Merrimack river. It is
381 feet long, built of stone, brick, iron, and
wood, in a substantial mannerj and covered
with slate. All the walls on the outside of
the building accessible to the male convicts
are secured bj- heavy iron bars inserled in the
brickwork.

A circular roadway and sidewalk leave the
highway south of the warden's house, passing
between the house and main building under
the corridor to the main entrance, thence to
the highway on the north.

6. The west wing, 75 b5^ 45 feet, is one story
high, and contains six solitarj- cells, wash-room,
and steam-boilers used to heat the buildings
and supply the cook-room with steam, and hot
water for all parts of the prison.

7. In rear of the main building, and 115 feet
from it, is located the workshop, where the

220

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

convicts are emploj-ed. This building is of
brick, 280 8-12 feet long; a part of it is 508-12
feet wide, and the remainder 40 S-12 feet wide,
two stories high, with a basement for storage
and fuel. On the north end stands the chim-
ney, 100 feet high, with two boilers of large
size, and a steam-engine of 100 horse-power.
This shop is %varmed b}' steam. A line of
shafting extends the entire length of both sto-
ries.

pn^i

A Cell from the Outside.

On the west side of the main building is the
prison yard, surrounded by a brick wall 20 feet
high, on which there are three watch-towers
and a gallery for the prson guards. There
are two double gates opening into the yard,
one on the north for railroad cars ; the other
on the south end, for carriages. This yard is
529 feet long and 267 feet wide inside, contain-
ing 3 1-4 acres. The brick buildings in the
yard cover about 7-10 of an acre.

Josiah Minot was employed to pre-
pare the legal papers for the transfer
of the property to the state from the
several owners, to whom damages
were awarded as follows :

Moses B. Critchett $3,300.00

li^zekiel Keed 1,200.00

Hiram H. Chapman 800 00

Concord Granite Company 2,8oo.co

John B. Giles 275.00

Louisa Garland 83.00

These assessments and awards,
duly made by the county commis-

sioners, were confirmed and allowed
by the commissioners. Charles C,
lyUnd and C. O. Foss, of Concord,
were the civil engineers. Edward
Dow and Giles Wheeler, also of Con-
cord, were appointed architects, and
after visiting several prisons and jails
in New England, accompanied by the
governor and council and the com-
missioners, a plan was agreed upon,
and the architects were instructed to
prepare proper drawings illustrative
of the buildings proposed.

The whole cost of constructing and
completing the prison, including land
in inclosure wall, gates, and other
fixtures, including workshops, heat-
ing and lighting apparatus, and the
right of way to said prison, and all
the charges and expenses attending
the construction of the same, were
limited to $200,000. But additional
appropriations for 64 cells not con-
templated in the original plan and
for the enlargement of the yard were
made available to the amount of
:;$35,ooo, and the commissioners kept
consistently within these • appropria-
tions, covering into the public treas-
ury a cash balance unexpended.

The buildings were located in
April, 1878, the ground was broken
May 3, the same year, the warden's
house and the main building were
put up during the year, the shop in
1879, the yard wall and all completed
in 1880.

The dedicatory exercises took place
October 28, 1880. Thus the project
that had its inception under the ad-
ministration of Governor Benjamin
F. Prescott, was completed under
that of Governor Natt Head, the
keys being delivered formally to the
latter with appropriate ceremonies,
he receiving them as the leading

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

221

official representative of the state.
Amongst those present at the dedi-
cation, besides state officers, were
ex-Governor P'rederick Smyth, Judge
Daniel Clark, George W. Nesmith,
J. W. Patterson, J. E. Sargent, Dana
Sargent, Dexter Richards, Dr. John
W. Barney, Levi W. Barton, Super-
intendent Ra}' of the State Industrial
school, and ex- Warden John C. Pils-
bury.

A temporar}- platform on the east
side and near the north end of the
shop contained the gentlemen who
were to take part in the exercises,
the select quartette, and Col. Wil-
liam Kent, who was probably the
•only gentleman present who had wit-
nessed the opening of the old prison,
in 1812.

The principal address upon the oc-
•casion of the dedication of the new
prison, as it was called, was made by
Col. John George, and was a very
apt and able one. He remarked that
the institution stood as a monument
to the enlightened liberality of our
people, a credit to the ability of the
■commissioners who had charge of
the work, and to the faithfulness of
the state executives who had the
supervision of it.

Contracts for the work had been
awarded as follows, and the contrac-
tors had satisfactorily fulfilled their
■obligations :

Lyman R. Fellows of Concord, water-
supply and drainage $2,780.00

.Andrew J. Holmes of Concord (as-
signed to Charles H. Norton of
Concord and J. M. Robbins of Lew-
iston, Me.), excavation, grading,
culverts, and stone masonry for
foundation 12,000.00

•Granite Railway Company of Con-
cord, I.,. Johnson, superintendent,
ashler, quoins, sills, steps, and
•other cut stonework 3,478.00

Creesy & Noyes of Boston, brick ma-
sonry of all kinds 40,630x0

Albion H. Lowell of Manchester, iron
doors, iron work for cells, for stairs,
windows, and railings 10,841.00

Ford & Kimball of Concord, patterns,
iron castings, consisting of cell tops,
columns, plates, registers, etc 2,240.00

W. L. Dow & Co. of Newport, car-
pentry- work, including plastering,
painting, slating, plumbing, inside
water- and gas-pipe, etc 37,800.00

The several contracts bore date,
March 30, 187S.

Additional contracts were made to
cover the enlargements, the parties
being the same, the additional con-
siderations being in the neighbor-
hood of twenty thousand dollars.

The provisions of the law made it
obligatory upon the commissioners to
sell the old prison propert5\ It con-

A Cell I nterior.

sisted of nearly three and three-
fourths acres of land, being about
295 feet on State street, extending
westerly 575 feet, to Harrod's court.
The old prison was built of granite,
three stories high, 242 feet long,
wings 36 feet wide, and a main build-

222

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRLSON.

iiig 44 feet wide, projecting 8 feet in
front and 150 feet in length, with
slated roofs. There were also a con-
siderable storehouse and workshop,
both of brick, a barn of wood, a yard-
w^all of granite, the wall being 800
feet long by 17 high, and 3 feet
thick, covering 3 sides of the enclos-
ure, in front of which stood the main
prison building with wings.

As agent of the purchasers, Nahum
Robinson and Oscar V. Pitman, I was

The Hospital.

recognized as the highest bidder at
the sale, and the entire property was
knocked off to me at $16,050, the deed
being executed to my late father and
Mr. Pitman, who made the purchase
as a real estate investment, the price
being paid promptly into the state
treasury. My first act in the premi.ses
was to secure as a relic the old ball
and chain which had figured in the
extended investigation of the prison
management, being used as a pun-
ishment.

Nineteen hundred and ninety-three

persons were sentenced and commit-
ted to the old prison, and on the 30th
day of November, 1880, one hundred
and forty-eight were transferred to
the new prison, and since then al-
most a thousand more have been com-
mitted thither.

The old structure was torn down,
six or eight years ago, and the site of
the main prison buildings is now oc-
cupied by handsome dwellings. The
brick shops still remain, having been
used for different mechanical pur-
poses.

In June, 181 1, the legislature, by
joint resolution, appointed James
Mason, John Goddard, and Daniel
Webster, a committee to revise the
code of criminal laws, and prepare
various statutes for the regulation
of the prison, in the recess, and re-
port at the next session. In accor-
dance with the report of that commit-
tee, the first act for the government
of the prison was passed in June,
18 1 2, and provided for the appoint-
ment, by the governor and council,
of a warden and three directors.
The directors were to have the em-
ploying of all the state employes at
the prison, and the general super-
vision of its affairs.

In 1837, however, an act was
pas.sed by the legislature, taking the
appointment of warden from the gov-
ernor and council, and vesting it in
the legislative bod5^

In 1870, the law was again
changed, and wardens have since
been appointed by the governor
and council, as have the chaplains
and prison physicians. The deputy-
warden is the direct nominal choice
of the warden, as are the matron,
overseers, guards, and others.

The following is a list of the war-

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

223

dens since the establishment of the
prison, with their terms of service :

Tnieworthy G. Dearborn 1812 to

Moses C. Pilsbury 1818 to

Daniel Connor ' 1826 to

Abner P. Stinson 1829 to

John McDaniels 1834 to

Moses C. Pilsbury 1837 to

Lanison Cooledg:e 1840 to

Samuel G. Berry 1843 to

James Moore 1847 to

Rufus Dow 1850 to

Gideon Webster 1853 to

William W. Eastman 1.855 to

John Foss 1859 to

Joseph Maj-o 1865 to

John C. Pilsbury 1870 to

P'rank S. Dodge 1880 to

J. Horace Kent 1887 to

George W. Colbath 1888 to

Nahum Robinson • . • 1894 to

Charles E. Cox 1S96

1S18
1826
1829
1834

1837
1840

184.^

1847
1850

1853
1855
1859
1865
1870
1880
1887
1888
1894
1896

Only two of the men who have
filled the position of warden since
the establishment of the institution,
in 181 2, are alive to-day, the surviv-
ors being James Moore, father of
Postmaster Moore, of this city, now
in his eighty-fifth year, a remarkable
man for his advanced age, still in a
good state of mental and physical
preservation, and Joseph Mayo, now
of Concord, Mass.

The salary of the warden is now
$2,000, and that of the deputy $1,200;
and they are provided with tenements
belonging to the state.

That a penal institution can be self-
sustaining, with due regard to the
best interests of the prisoners, was
demonstrated by the administration
of Moses C. Pilsbury, during the
two terms when the prison was under
his control, and again during the in-
cumbency of his son, John C. Pils-
bury, for ten years, and subsequently
under the management of Nahum
Robinson.

The events at the prison which

attract the greatest public attention
are the hangings. These, although
largely private, excite a morbid curi-
osity, and anything pertaining to
them finds eager listeners and read-
ers. There have been nine execu-
tions within the walls, six of them at
the old prison and the last three at
the new state prison building.

In the capacity of newspaper rep-
resentative, it became my duty to at-
tend them all. They were as follows :

Josiah L. Pike Xovember 9, 1869

Franklin B. Evans February 17, 1874

Elwin W. Major January 5, 1877

Joseph Lapage March 15, 1878

John Q. Pinkham March 14, 1879

John B. Buzzell July 10, 1879

Thomas Samon April 17, 1885

James Palmer May i , 1890

F'rank C. Almy May 16, 1893

Pike's last days were redolent of
roses, and he was ushered out of life
with a surge of sentimental gush that
scandalized the state, and aroused the
stinging sarcasm of Mark Twain on
our effeminacy. Woiuen were al-
lowed to make a fool of Pike. They
prayed and sung with him, and held
his hands, and patted his cheeks,
and entwined his hair with their soft
fingers, and fed him on confections,
jellies, and other dainties too delicate
for home consumption, until Pike,
although he was the fiendish butcher
of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Brown, of
Plampton P'alls, a defenceless old
man and woman, imagined himself
a saintly hero, whose death at the
end of the hangman's rope was to
be little less than a martyrdom. He
.seemed to be the especial pride and
delight of some ministers' wives and
daughters, and yet, nevertheless, one
fine day he had to turn his back on
their profusion of pinks and lilies and
hyacinths, had to leave his cell with

224

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

its wealth of bric-a-brac and orna-
mentation, the copious contributions
of mistaken devotion, had to say a
long good-by to his charming and
tearful visitors, and face alone the

he had to say in his cell, where the
death warrant was read to him. The
night before his death he sold his
body to the prison phj'sician, Dr.
Albert H. Crosby of Concord, for

dreadful fact of death, — forced to $50, for the uses of the medical de-

Warden Charles E. Cox. Deputy Warden Samuel D. Robinson. Dr. Edgar A. Clark, Physician.

jump this " bank and shoal of time "
into eternit3^ as a penalty, with his
hands stained with the life-blood of
innocent fellow- creatures.

When he was "shuffled off," a
change was made in the prison man-
agement, and murderers have not
since been allowed ovations there,
but have been kept in the .strictest
solitude possible. But Pike's execu-
tion was a sickening spec-
tacle. The newspapers
made only brief, if any,
mention of its horror, but
the rope by which he was
hanged was too long, and
when the drop fell, the
feet of the condemned man
struck with great force
against the pavement be-
low, and he had to be
pulled up and strangled to death.

Old Evans was a snivelling, hypo-
critical, nauseating, old wretch, who
brutally murdered Miss Josianua I^ov-
ering, at Northwood. He longed to
sing or to make a speech on the scaf-
fold, but was admonished to say what

Hall Officer Guy C. Marden.

and less

partment of Dartmouth college. Old
Evans was greatly interested to know
what the doctor intended to do with
it, and was curious to learn if his
bones would be wired together. The
idea amused him. He was to be of
some use after death, if not before.
He would have been much pleased
if he could have known what a
sensation the finding of his carcass
one morning in the college
chapel was to make. An
autopsy was made of his
brains. They were re-
moved and his skull stuffed
with shavings and replaced.
Somebody remarked that
if he had alwaj^s had them
in his head, instead of his
vicious brain, he would
have been more sensible
criminal. His son wore
his clothes the afternoon next after
the hanging and .spent his money in
bar-rooms.

Major's taking-off was the most
affecting one. He was young, hand-
some, and intelligent. He appeared

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

225

upon the scaffold dressed in elegant
black, attired as if for an evening
party, except for obvious reasons he
wore no collar, — the sheriff and his
deputies tied the rope in its place.
He looked for a reprieve
even up to the last mo-
ment. I can see him
now as he came through
the guard-room, glanc-
ing nervously this way
and that, hopeful until
the very last. When
the black cap was drawn
over his head, shutting
out forever the light,
he swooned. Two res-
olute officers held him
for a moment, and then
dropped him through the trap. A
physician, as is the custom on such
occasions, stepped forward upon a
stool, and counted and announced
his pulse. At first his heart hardly
beat. Then the pulsations increased
to forty a minute, and immediately
gradually fell off till life was pro-
nounced extinct.

Frank S. Dodge. Late Warden

expressed as to his guilt, and I was
employed as attorney for an enter-
prising metropolitan daily to work
up that phase of the case to its best
advantage. I took several remark-
able affidavits, which,
however, were never
given to the public, in-
asmuch as Major had
gone, and the late At-
torne}^ - General M a s o n
W. Tappan thought that
they might have some
undesirable effect upon
the trial of Joseph La-
page, the slayer of lit-
tle Josie Langmaid. A
hearing before the gover-
nor and council satisfied
me that Major was implicated at least,
in the death of his wife, although the
late Hon. George Y. Sawj^er made a
powerful appeal for the commutation
of his sentence to imprisonment for
life. That was the most eloquent
speech that I ever had the good for-
tune to listen to. When the great
advocate closed, and sat down, the

George W. Colbath, Late Warden. John C. Pilsbury, Late Warden. Thonnas A. Pllsbury, Late Deputy Warden.

Major died protesting his inno- governor asked him a strange and
cence. It will be recalled that he somewhat startling question, — ''Lay-
was charged with the poisoning of ing aside your mission here as attor-
his wife, and his case makes one of ney for the prisoner, and speaking
the most interesting chapters in purely as a citizen and individual,
criminal history. Some doubt was can you sa}', upon your honor as a

226

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

man, that 3'ou believe him abso-
lutely innocent ?" The council cham-
ber was as still as a tomb for a mo-
ment. Then Judge Sawj-er rose
with profound dignity, his eyes swim-
ming in tears, and his voice choked
with emotion. "I thank 5'ou for
that question!" he said. "I thank
God for it! Now I can say what
heretofore I could not ; now I can
shake off the embarrassment that sur-
rounded me as a hired advocate ; and
I can speak frankly and sincerely my
own feelings and belief in this matter.
I am an old man, almost eighty 3'ears
of age, and with health already im-
paired. I cannot last long, and this
is probably my last appearance be-
fore an}' tribunal, until that great tri-
bunal before which we must all ap-
pear and answer, and I want to sa3^
even if these be my last words on
earth, — and they may be,— that I
believe Major innocent ! I believe
him so, as God is my judge ! I be-
lieve him so as I believe in my own
existence, as I believe in my God!"

Then Judge Saw^'er proceeded to
explain that he had entered the case
reluctantly, fearing the respondent
guilty, but he had been convinced to
the contrary. In all those confiden-
tial talks that he as counsel had held
with his client, no suspicious word
had ever passed Major's lips. Judge
Saw3'er was followed by Charles H.
Burns, who made the ablest, the
most convincing argument and nar-
ration of evidence that I ever heard
him make, and that is saying a great
deal, for I have frequently heard him
in court and upon the rostrum. He
was then a county-solicitor, and it
was his duty to prosecute Major.

Still I think that Major's sentence
would have been commuted if a mem-

orable visit had not happened. As
soon as the impressive meeting ad-
journed, the governor himself alone
visited Major in his cell at the prison.
What occurred there then sealed his
fate. If he had presented his own
case as plausibly as did his leading
lawyer, and had he been more re-
spectful and less vengeful toward
others, he would probably have been
alive to-day, and possibly a free man.

When the sheriff notified Major
that he should call for him in five
minutes, the prisoner put his arms
about the officer's neck and kissed
him, assuring him that he was merel}-
doing his official duty, and was not
to be blamed.

The fatal drop opened glibly for the
cat-like Lapage. It will be remem-
bered that it was he who killed Josie
lyangmaid, at Pembroke. He, like
Major, was given two expensive trials
by jury, the first verdict having been
set aside because of erroneous ruling
by the court. The evidence against
him at the best was scant, but his
guilt was black as night. In his last
hours he confessed, "Me kill girl!"
His ej'es shone like those of a frigh-
tened tiger, as he stood upon the
scaffold. He passed for an illiterate
Canadian-Frenchman, and .so he was
in book-knowledge, but he was keen,
deep, cunning, and villainous. It
was two weeks after the murder, be-
fore suspicion fell on him, and then
the only suspicion arose from a tele-
gram from Vermont, saying that such
a man was suspected of the Ball mur-
der there, and if he were in this com-
munity, he should be watched. He
was arrested, and tliere was tell-tale
blood on his clothes, for which he
could not account, and this led to
other clues, and to a chain of cir-

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PR I SOX

227

cumstances which warranted his con-
viction.

Pinkhani was a, heartless, shallow-
brained, canting, old rascal, who mur-
dered an elderly lady. His hanging
may be said to have been uneventful,
arousing no pronounced iiiterest.

Thomas DeQuincey wrote of mur-
der as a fine art, and if capital execu-
tions might also be spoken of in the
sense of a fine art, Pinkham's tak-
ing-off would be declared a success.
There was no hitch in the proceed-
ing ; the programme was carried out
as arranged. Pinkham performed his
part in the tragedy effectively. He
was committed to the prison on the
last night of lyapage's life, and when
Lapage was told that another mur-
derer had arrived, he shook his head
significantly, saying, "Bad for him!
Bad for him!"

With the exception of Major, Buz-
zell was the most intelligent of the
New Hampshire murderers, a medi-
ocre lot in average intellect. He was
somewhat prepossessing in appear-
ance and had not the common char-
acteristics of a criminal. He induced
a weak-brained 3'oung man. Cook,
hardly more than a boy, to shoot a
woman, to whom Buzzell was en-
gaged to be married, and who had
brought a suit against him, then
pending, for breach of promise. Cook
fired a gun through her window in
the evening, literall}^ blowing off the
woman's head. Buzzell was tried
for the murder and acquitted, but
was afterward tried as accessory, and
was found guilty. The case is a
memorable one in the annals of the
law. Chief Justice Charles Doe de-
livering the famous legal opinion.
Cook turned state's evidence, and
accepted a sentence for a term of

5'ears in prison. Buzzell was exe-
cuted during a session of the legis-
lature, and a strenuous effort, led by
the late ex-Governor Walter Harri-
man, who was then a prominent and
exceedingl}' eloquent member of the
state house of representatives, was
made to abolish capital punishment,
but without success.

Old Samon killed Mrs. Ford at La-
conia, and put her body in a trunk,
and wheeled it awa}' on a barrow.
Samon had a nasal twang when he
talked, caused by some defect in the
formation of his nose, and his eyes
were of different colors, one being
blue and the other brown. He acted,
as he went upon the scaffold, as
though he had been drugged, but
the trouble was that he was a dull,
heav3% merciless scoundrel, whose
departure awakened no ripple of re-
gret in any human heart.

Palmer never confessed, but was
guilty beyond the shadow of a doubt.
He drove a hammer down through
the brain of his companion. He had
relatives and friends and able coun-
sel who did all they could to save
him, but the law was inexorable.
By authorization from one of his at-
torneys, I saw him in his cell only a
short time before the day of his exe-
cution. He was reading a book, the
title of which was "Annals of a Per-
fect Ivife," or something very much
like that.

Almy murdered Christie Warden,
at Hanover. His execution was a
botch. The noose was so loosely
tied that it almost slipped over the
condemned man's head as he fell.
He begged to be allowed to say a few
words on the scaffold, but was
harshly refused, and hustled uncere-
moniousl}' into eternity. It was gen-

228

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

erally believed that Almj^'s bod}'^ was
secretly exhumed after it was once
buried, and that it figured in the
Dartmouth Medical school, or in
some other similar institution, but
the late Warden Colbath said there
was no ground whatever for such
belief. He was authority that on
the evening after Almy was buried
in the prison yard, the warden went
there alone, and took measurements
defining the location of the ground,
and then removed every vestige that
could possibly lead to its discovery.
Some time afterward a building was
erected on the lot which covered the
ground, and in the presence of the
warden and the deputy, the ground
was pierced, reaching the coffin, ex-
actly as had been anticipated. War-
den Colbath said that he should leave
a sealed description of the location of
the grave with his successor.

Everyone of these murderers, with
a single exception, had an excellent
appetite up to the day of death, and
relished breakfast even, as if assured
of a long lease of life. A "murder-
er's appetite" has grown to be an
expressive remark.

Bodies generally of murderers are
claimed by some relative or other
near friend, or buried in the Potter's
field. Pike's body was taken by rela-
tives ; Evans's carcass went to the
Dartmouth Medical school ; Pink-
ham's and Buzzell's remains were
sent to their respective homes ;
Major's was claimed by relatives;
Samon was buried in the Potter's
field ; Lapage's bones are assumed
to be there ; Palmer's relatives took
charge of his body.

Almost every decade has brought
its popular agitation as to the con-
duct of the prison, and the control of

its inmates. Sometimes the move-
ment has savored somewhat of par-
tisan politics, and again it has been
a humane, philanthropic flood-tide
of sanitary and righteous sentiment,
welcome waves of enlightened opin-
ion, breaking upon obsolete customs
and mistaken notions, but tempered
sometimes with a suspicion of per-
sonal prejudice, if not with harmful
and false sympathy, both unhealthful
and pernicious. There have been
charges and counter-charges, bitter
allegations followed by belated de-
fences and qualified vindications, but
the general tenor of the prison regime
has been wonderfully good, and the
character of the officers, like the be-
havior of the convicts, has almost in-
variably been such as to bring the
prison into very favorable compari-
son with any other penal institution
in the country. The force of a good
example at the head of a reformatory
institution does more to elevate the
standard of prison discipline there
than all the fine-spun vagaries of
people who have had no experience
with prisoners.

In 1879 and 1880, during repeated
sessions of the governor and council,
the old prison and everything per-
taining to it for ten years was given
the most searching and scathing in-
vestigation. The tribunal was con-
stituted of Governor Natt Head
and Councillors Hiram A. Tuttle,
Josiah Burrows, Warren Brown, Na-
than Parker, and James Burnap. A
professional, transient prison reform-
er, Burnham Wardwell, started the
unsavory ball a-rolling, and such in-
tellectual forces as Mrs. Marilla M.
Richer and the Rev. Henry V. Camp-
bell imbued the onslaught with a
spirit of credibility, enthusiasm, and

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

229

popular interest. Associated with
them in the submission of testimony
and the examination of numerous
witnesses were the late Judge E. D.
Rand and A. F. L. Norris, both eru-
dite and accomplished lawyers of
the widest experience and finest acu-
men at the bar. For the defence of
the different prison officials, John Y.
Mugridge, United States Senator
Austin F. Pike, Herbert F. Norris,
Fred H. Gould appeared, and I also
had the honor to be of counsel for
the defendants. In their behalf I
made the opening answer to the
voluminous and scandalous speci-
fications of the prosecution, occupy-
ing three hours, — the longest speech
I ever undertook, but one the length
of which was fully warranted by the
nature and importance of the subject,
and the widespread interest felt in it.
Samuel B. Page represented the Pris-
oners' Aid society. The final hear-
ing consumed twenty-two days, and
was held in the legislative hall at the
state capitol. The charges against
the prison management were largely
imaginary, or had foundation in the
faulty construction and cramped
areas of the old prison, which was
wofully inadequate in size and unfit
generally for habitation, and of which
Warden Pilsbury had himself made
repeated and grievous complaint.

The result of the investigation was
a substantial vindication and an ex-
oneration of the prison management.
Warden Pilsbury was wrongfully put
to an outlay of $3,000 in defraying
the expenses of defending the institu-
tion, a sum not covered by any avail-
able appropriation, and which was
never refunded to him or his estate.

Warden Pilsbury belonged to a
family of celebrated prison mana-

gers. His father, Moses C Pilsbury,
had been warden of this prison be-
fore him. For almost three fourths
of a century the name of Pilsbury
stood foremost in the world's list of
eminent prison managers. Amongst
the highest and noblest who strove
to carry forward the great philan-
thropic work that John Howard be-
gan, was General Amos Pilsbury,
whose success is symbolized in mar-
ble and bronze, and whose life is a
part of our national histor3^ He was
the leading light of this country at
the International Prison congress in
lyOndon, in 1872. It was he who
built, and for twenty-eight years pre-
sided over, the great penitentiar}^ at
Albany. He was the brother of John
C. Pilsbury. As boys, they played
together in the old New Hampshire
state prison, of which their father,
Moses C. Pilsbury, was warden for
seven years (i8iS-'25), during which
the institution was made a financial
success, and in which the Bible was
introduced into the cells of the con-
victs ; and the warden himself per-
formed all the functions of a chap-
lain. Moses C. Pilsbury was subse-
quently reelected warden, serving suc-
cessfully three years more (i837-'4o).
John C. Pilsbury, after an experi-
ence of twenty years in the manage-
ment of penal institutions, — with his
father here in Concord, and with his
father and his brother at Weathers-
field, Conn., also at Blackwell's Is-
land, and elsewhere, — was called,
July II, 1870, by the late Governor
Onslow Stearns, — another gruff, able,
old-school gentleman, — to "straighten
out" the affairs of the New Hamp-
shire state prison, which were then
drifting into an unfortunate con-
dition.

230

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

The law passed in June, 1870, gave
the appointment of the warden and
the management of the prison to the
governor and council, enabling them
to make some changes in the manner
of conducting its affairs. Previous
to the passage of this law, the entire
management was practically in the
hands of the warden, who purchased
all supplies, and controlled the inter-
nal affairs, subject only to such sup-
ervision as could be exercised by a
committee of the council, whose au-
thority was limited. The new war-
den found that the officers had been
in the habit of trading with the con-
victs, also conveying to and from
them communications with the out-
side world ; and, notwithstanding his
watchfulness, he was not long in dis-
covering that this state of things con-
tinued. The cells of the convicts
were found to contain tools, and the
discipline generally was pronounced
far from ideal. He devoted himself
with untiring diligence to its im-
provement, reforming various abuses,
and securing the proper objects of the
institution.

The late Thomas A. Pilsbury, son
of John C. Pilsbury, served with his
father as deputy-warden throughout
his administration of ten years (1870-
'80), and was reappointed deputy un-
der Warden Frank vS. Dodge, in 1881,
completing in all eighteen years' ser-
vice as deputy-warden of our state
pri.son. It is unnecessary to add that
he was a splendid prison manager,
with a natural adaptation to the
work. He was, moreover, a gener-
ous-hearted, noble-spirited, upright
man, held in high respect and affec-
tionate regard in this community.

lyOuis D. Pilsbury, the present sup-
erintendent of the reformatory at

Blackwell's Island, is his cousin, and
maintains the family name as a su-
perior disciplinarian and thorough
business man.

Warden Dodge was a kind-hearted
gentleman, with considerable experi-
ence as an officer and understanding
of prisoners, having been high sheriff
and jailer of Merrimack county, and
he kept the prison in all respects fully
up to the high standard that had been
set for it. Mr. Dodge was a kindly,
genial, honest public officer, holding
the confidence and esteem of the peo-
ple as well as the prisoners in his
charge, and spoken of universally
with praise and commendation. His
administration was a successful one.

Col. J. Horace Kent came next in
the succession of wardens. He, too,
had been a sheriff and a jailer, and
was familiar with the habits and
practices of prisoners, and had had
much to do with human nature in
various forms and under different
conditions. He entered upon the
work fully qualified for the place,
and did not disappoint the governor
and council from whom he received
the appointment, nor the public who
were familiar with his ability and
his adaptation to the exacting posi-
tion.

His successor, Warden Colbath,
came from the city of Dover, receiv-
ing his appointment at the hands of
Governor Charles H. Sawyer, with
the advice of his council. He was a
member of the Grand Army of the
Republic, with a valiant war record
and a high fraternal standing. His
universal courtesy to the members of
the newspaper press and to the public
generally, was appreciated, and his
incumbency of the office of warden
was characterized by a quietness,

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

231

efficiency, and fidelity worthy of more
space than can be devoted to him in
an article of this kind, which presents
so many names and topics, any of
which might well be the exclusive
subject for a separate sketch.

Clarence Johnson has taken occa-
sion in a special article in this publi-
cation to pay tribute to the work and
worth of Nahum Robinson, not only
as an exemplary warden, but as a
builder and a man.

The present acceptable head of the
prison. Warden Cox, was a resident
of Manchester, being still a member
of the board of aldermen of that pros-
perous city. He was a member of
its common council in iSgi-'ga, and
was a representative from it to the
state legislature in 1 885-' 86. He is
a gentleman of prepossessing man-
ners, stability of character, and of
much executive ability and force.
To the arduous duties of his office
he is devoting himself with painstak-
ing diligence, and with a praise-
worthy desire to do in all respects
what is right, and to treat everybody
fairl}^ and justly.

Samviel D. Robinson, the present
deputy- warden, who has filled that po-
sition under the three several wardens
•since March 11, 1889, being succes-
sively reappointed, was previously at
the prison in one useful capacity or
another, from May i, 1869, to 18S0.
The fact that he has been retained
is the best encomium that could be
passed upon his fidelity and devo-
tion. He was a good soldier, being
a member of the Fourteenth Regi-
ment, New Hampshire \'olunteers,
and was shot at Winchester, Va.,
September 19, 1864, and will carry
to his grave as a verification of his
bravery and self-sacrifice in the

cause of his country', the unmistak-
able marks of an impairing wound.

Charles W. Davis, Augustus Bean,
and others, served as deputy-wardens
in early times.

The succession of physicians who
have served the institution during
varying lengths of time, comprises
some of the ablest in the state. Such
names come to mind as those of Dr.
PZzra Carter, Dr. William Prescott,
Dr. Timothy Haynes, Dr. Charles
F. P. Hildreth, Dr. WilHam B. Hid-
den, Dr. A. A. Moulton, Dr. Albert
H. Crosby, Dr. J. W. Barney, Dr.
F. A. Stillings, Dr. Henry M.
French, Dr. Charles R. Walker, and
Dr. A. E. Emery.

Dr. Edgar A. Clark, the present
prison physician, who has been reap-
pointed under succeeding state ad-
ministrations since 1891, is a skilful
and competent officer, as well as a
kindly and accomplished gentleman.
His professional services at the prison
during his incumbency there have
been diligent, unobtrusive, and suc-
cessful.

It is the duty of the chaplain to in-
struct and teach the prisoners, and to
administer to them such advice and
consolation as he may deem best cal-
culated to promote their welfare and
reformation. He is expected to con-
duct religious services in the chapel
on the Sabbath, to have the super-
vision of the library, and to cooper-
ate with the warden and under his
direction for the maintenance of good
discipline and for the best good of
the convicts. His place is a rever-
ential and fatherly one, and such is
the wide discretion with which he is
clothed, and the privileges open to
him that he may be of invaluable as-
sistance in various ways, and many

2y.

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PR /SON.

of the chaplains have devoted them-
selves to their missions at the institu-
tion with devout fidelity and zeal.
Amongst those who have held the
position are the following named
ministers of the gospel : Rev. Na-
thaniel Bouton, Rev. Dr. E. E. Cum-
mings, Rev. John Atwood, Rev. Mr.
Kelley, Rev. Eleazer Smith, Rev.
Caleb Brown, Rev. Samuel Cooke,
Rev. Sullivan Holman, Rev. Hosea
Ouinby, Rev. E. R. Wilkins, Rev.
D. C. Easton, and Rev. C. E. Pink-
ham.

The Rev. Eleazer Smith held the
chaplaincy fourteen or fifteen years.
He and the Rev. Hosea Ouinby
wrote each a book based on their
prison experiences, that of the former
being entitled " Nine Years Among
the Convicts ; or Prison Remini-
scences," and that of the latter, " The
Prison Chaplaincy, and Its Experi-
ences." These works dealt with the
moral and psychological phases of
prison life, as well as with its physi-
cal and material aspects and needs,
and recited incidents in the experi-
ence of individual prisoners.

On the walls of the warden's ofhce
are hung the portraits of many of the
past officers of the institution, and the
room is an interesting picture-gallery
of the men who have helped to make
the institution what it is in mechani-
cal, disciplinary, and moral success.

The following is the present prison
roster :

Warden, Charles E. Cox.

Deputy warden, Samuel D. Robinson.

Chaplain, Rev. Charles I^. Pinkhani.

Physician, Edgar A. Clark, M. D.

Steward, Frank J. Sanborn.

Hall ofllcer, Guy C. Marden.

Overseers in shops — Joseph Martin, Martin A.
Hadley, Frank Day, Charles T,. Waldron, Mar-
shall C. Evans, George N. Nicholson.

Guards— Davd O. Rand, Walter E. Nudd,
Gilbert F. Rand, Fred A. Davis, Walter H.
Flanders, Kingman S. Haselton.

Night watch: Shops, Natt Wiggin ; hall,
George W. Trickey.

Matron, Mrs. Ella Parmenter.

Engineer, Archie A. Clough.

Messenger, William H. Price.

The fare given the prisoners is
plain, wholesome, and well-cooked.
The articles of diet are varied in
some details from season to season,
and extra allowances of bread are
given prisoners who make applica-
tion for them at any meal. They
are also given certain allowances of
tobacco. The following is the pre-
vailing order of food :

Sunday: Breakfast — baked beans, brown bread,
and coffee ; supper — rice pudding, flour bread,
molasses, and cocoa.

Monday : Breakfast — flour bread, molasses, and
coffee ; dinner — corned beef, vegetables, and
flour bread; supper — flour bread, molasses,
and cocoa.

Tuesday: Breakfast — mush, flour bread, and
milk ; dinner — fish hash, vegetables, and floiir
bread ; supper — flour bread, molasses, and
cocoa.

Wednesday: Breakfast — corned beef, warm
brown bread, and coffee ; dinner — fresh beef
soup, with vegetables, and flour bread ; sup-
per — flour bread, molasses, and cocoa.

Thursday: Breakfast — oatmeal,- flour bread,
and milk ; dinner — pea soup or bean soup,
with pork, and brown bread; supper — flour
bread, molasses, and cocoa.

Friday : Breakfast — flour bread, molasses, and
coffee ; dinner — fish hash, and brown bread,
with fish, vegetables, etc.; supper — flour
bread, molasses, and cocoa.

Saturday-: Breakfast — meat hash, brown bread,
and milk ; dinner — fresh beef soup, with veg-
etables, and flour bread ; supper — flour bread,
molasses, and cocoa.

By a legislative act of 1869, the
state treasurer is made treasurer of
the prison, and Solon A. Carter, who
has held the former office for the sev-
eral years last past, has had this ad-
ditional responsibilit3s discharging his
obligations satisfactorily in this, as in
other respects.

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

233

In 1869, Governor Onslow Stearns,
and his council, prepared, with the
active assistance of his private secre-
tary, Jacob Benton, Jr., a series of
rules and regulations for the conduct
of the prison. These were revised and
improved in 1883, and have remained
in force. I do not know that any con-
siderable adverse criticism has been
made on them, or on any of the pre-
cepts and commands enforced at the
prison, whether at the instance of the
governor and council, or emanating
directly from the officers at the in-
stitution. Some comment has been
passed upon the injunction of oblig-
ing convicts to keep their ej^es down-
cast. This is a practice not generally
in vogue in such institutions, but it
is favored as being of advantage in
procuring satisfactory discipline, and
the keeping the minds of the prison-
ers from alluring objects that might
lead them to be discontented, or ex-
cite their curiosity and passion.

The life of a convict is, as a rule,
simple, silent, regular, uneventful,
monotonous. Certain observances
are permitted on two or three holi-
days of each j'ear, such as music or
discourses in the chapel, and special
articles of food. Certain time is com-
muted from the sentences of convicts
for good behavior, and they soon real-
ize that there is nothing to gain, but
much to lose, from any infraction of
the requirements, any departure from
the straightforward path of duty that
has been marked out for them, the
various objects to be attained having
been taken into careful consideration.
It is a hard life at best, one that
wrecks the pride and disheartens
many a man, and most assuredly one
to be avoided. Punishment is less
frequently resorted to than formerly,

the solitary cells being only seldom
used. The slide is an arrangement
to lift a man by the wrists without
injury, although the pain is excru-
ciating, and four minutes is the ab-
solute limit, and two minutes more
than the average man could endure.
This mode of punishment has its ad-
vantages over a dark cell and a re-
duced fare, but is seldom, if ever,
used now.

The dress of the convicts is the one
prescribed long ago, of alternate red
and black cloth, half of each garment
being of one, and half of the other.

The female prisoners occupy the
south wing of the institution, and
are employed cooking for the resi-
dent officers, with the exception of
the warden and deputy. They also
make and repair clothing for the
men.

Ivabor is considered a relief, and
not an adjunct to punishment. Con-
victs very generally are glad to work.
In the early history of the prison, the
state emplo5'ed the convicts, but for
the many years last past the contract
system has prevailed, and the labor
of the male convicts has been leased
by the state to contractors at so
much each per diem, the price vary-
ing with different times and condi-
tions, forty cents a day being now
allowed per man. The prison force
is now occupied in the manufacture
of chairs, the present contractors be-
ing Converse & Whitnej', of South
Ashburnham, Mass., and from 600 to
800 of these articles are made daily.
For many j-ears George T. Comins was
contractor at the prison, his principal
manufacture being bedsteads, some-
times as many as 375 a day being
turned out. When the state found
work for the convicts, stone was cut,

234

THE NE]\ HAMPSHIRE STATE PRLSON.

harnesses, boots and shoes, and other
articles, including at one time pitch-
forks, were made, but an effort has
been put forth throughout the his-
tory of the prison to carry on some
business there that would not come
in direct competition with outsiders,
and thus be to the detriment of the
communit}^ «

One of the touching incidents of
recent prison life was the presence
there of a mere child, a bright little
girl. She was only six months old
when she was taken in with her
mother, who had been sentenced for
a term of years, and grew to be a
considerable favorite with the war-
den and others, remaining until she
was in the neighborhood of five years
of age, innocently running in and out
and playing within the shades of the
gruesome structure, wholly uncon-
scious of the blot on her family name.

At this writing there are 175 pris-
oners in the institution, of whom 4
are women. Stealing and attempt-
ing to steal in some way, inclusive
of burglary, breaking and entering,
and highway robbery, is by far the
most prolific crime. Of 183 convicts
in the prison last year, 133 were
natives of the United States, and
there were from i to 28 each, natives
of other countries, 28 being from
Canada, 5 from England, 3 from
Scotland, 4 from Ireland, 6 from
Nova Scotia, 2 from Ital}', and i each
from France and Denmark. Sen-
tences varied from i year to 30 years,
the greater number (49) being in for
a term of 3 years, and there were 21
for 5 years, 10 for 4 years, 25 for 2
years, 21 for i year and i day. The
daily average population was put
down at 175. The pardoning power
of the executive has been generally

very cautiously exercised and with
salutary results.

The history of crime and an analy-
tical examination of its causes and
conditions, and the ramifications and
many phases of the great subject of
criminology, do not fall within the
scope of this narrative article. It
has been regarded as fortunate for
the public and the prisoners that the
managers of our penitentiary have,
with hardly an exception, been men
of eminent good sense and practica-
bility, rather than Utopian theorists
and mistaken sentimentalists, vain of
publicity and anxious for conspicu-
ousness. There may have been re-
grettable, and possibly culpable, in-
cidents in the inner history of the
pri.son, but the institution presents an
average record of propriety, whole-
someness, of unparalleled excellence
and success, of which our people may
justly be proud, and which reflects
honor and credit upon the state, inclu-
sive of the successive administrations
of the several governors and councils
under which the prison has been
maintained.

There have been no escapes from
the institution since September 11,
1869, when a prisoner by the name
of Joseph Myres was trusted to go
outside of the old prison to feed the
hogs in the neighboring stable, as
was his custom, and he has ever
since neglected to return. The rec-
ord shows 20 escapes in all, begin-
ning with 5 in 1 81 6. The wall of
the old prison was originally low,
and the whole structure was so in-
secure and imperfect that escape
was comparatively easy. Two men
crawled up and out through a ven-
tilator in the roof, another made a
false hand with which he deceived

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

235

the turnkey, he thinking the prison- Under this low cross piece of one of

er was in his cell while he was hid- the big doors to the gate in the yard,

den in the corridor. for a distance of two or three feet.

The most remarkable departure were bored small holes close together,

was that of the famous bank robber, These holes were invisible from the

Maximilian Shinburn, alias
" Mark Baker," alias "Zim-
merman," alias "Smith,"
alias "Count Shinburn,"
alias many other things.
On the day of his escape,
December 3, 1866, the con-
victs were formed in line,
as usual, just before dark,
and, while in the act of
marching across the yard
toward the prison, Shin-
burn set his bucket upon
the ground and ran for the
gate. The alarm was immediately

Maximilian Sliinburn,

Alias " Mark Baker,"
alias ■' Zinimerniau,"
alias '■ Smith," alias
"CountShinburii,"etc.,
for thirty j-ears at the
head of a baud of skil-
ful bank burglars.

inner side of the door, not
reaching quite through, and
they were so close up under
the cross piece that they
could not be seen from the
outside, unless the observer
stooped and took especial
pains. However, they
served to weaken the low-
er end of the plank form-
ing the door, so that when
Shinburn kicked at the
right point they broke, and
out he scud like a frigh-
He evidently knew just

tened cat.

given and the guard upon the prison when and where to kick, for a ''pal"
wall discharged his musket at Shin- with a fine horse and carriage was in
burn, but failed to hit him. He waiting for him, and he was driven

^^1

The Escape of Maximilian Sninburn, the Notorious Bank Breaker, from ti>e N. H. State Prison, Decerrber 3, I8C6.

reached the gate where he knocked rapidly away. That he had help

off the end of one of the planks which from the inside was suspected by

had been weakened for the purpose by some, and that he had valiant assis-

borings under a cleat on the outside, tance on the outside of the prison

236

THE NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE PRISON.

was very evident. He has been re-
peatedly reported as incarcerated in
prison elsewhere, and as dead, but
whether this is a part of his cunning
to avert apprehension, or whether he
is really confined or gone from earth,
is not positiv'ely known. He was an
intellectual, accomplished German, a
cracksman /)(7;' nvr/Av/cv', with an un-
equalled record of wholesale bank-
breaking too familiar to recount.
He has never been recommitted to
this prison, however. He remarked
when the officers were taking him
hither that he might remain six
months. The precaution was taken
to place an extra lock on his cell,
but it availed nothing. He was out
in about seven months from the time
of his commitment.

There was a little old man at the
prison, by the name of Augustus
Thorndike, who is said to have
serv^ed at least five terms there, his
great criminal penchant being the
stealing of horses and oxen. He has
an additional record of a term at a
county-farm in New Hampshire, be-
sides repeated jailings, and is said to
have been recognized not long ago
serving a sentence at Deer Island, in
Boston harbor.

Another convict, by the name of
George True, found the prison so
popular that he became an inmate
of it for the third lime, and is now
under arrest for further crime (burg-
lary ) which promises his early re-
turn. Generally, however, one term
is thought sufficient.

Of the 183 inmates reported last
year, 149 could read and write, 13
could read only, and 21 could neither

write nor read ; 68 claimed to have
been temperate ; 115 admitted them-
selves to have been intemperate ; 23
were under twenty years of age, 76
between twenty and thirty years, 50
between thirty and forty years, 24
between forty and fifty years, 10 over
fifty years; 45 were married and 138
were unmarried.

The General Gilman Marston tramp
law, passed by the legislature of 1878,
seems to have had an effect upon the
number of inmates at the institution,
for the warden's report of 1880 shows
a decrease of 29 during the year next
previous. There had been, however,
a revival of business throughout the
country, which undoubtedly con-
tributed to the reduction.

Prisoners upon their discharge are
given a new suit, of clothes, and three
dollars in cash, and, besides this, the
Prisoners' Aid society renders ma-
terial and other assistance, and is de-
serving of high commendation, for
the philanthropic work that it has
accomplished in its goodly province.

The health of the convicts has
been remarkably good, no consider-
able epidemic having prevailed, and
deaths have been few. There have
been at times many months when the
hospital was not occupied ; and there
has also been a great freedom from
accidents of all kinds.

"A prison is a house of care,
A place where none can thrive,
A touchstone true to try a friend,
A grave for men alive.
Sometimes a place of right,
Sometimes a place of wrong,
Sometimes a place of rogues and thieves,
And honest men among."

— Inscription on the Old Prison of liiiinhtirgii.

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

By Adjutant LittJiet' Ti-acy Townsend.
CHAPTER X\\ . — Continued.

HE close of the siege of
Donaldsonville is de-
scribed in the following
words by Comrade J. P.
Heath: "One morning
wheii looking up the river, we saw a
large quantity of smoke, which we
watched with much interest. Soon
three or four large river steamers
came in sight and swung in towards
us. We could see soldiers on board
dressed in blue.

"One of the steamers came near
and made fast just above the fort and
commenced rapidly to unload her .
troops. They deployed and moved
into the woods at the north. They
were just in time, for Green was ap-
proaching, his pickets already being
in sight.

' ' We hailed the regiment nearest
us afid asked, ' Where are 3'ou from ?'
'Port Hudson; it has surrendered,'
they replied.

"We asked, 'What regiment are
you of?' They replied, 'The Eighth
New Hampshire.' They asked,
'What regiment are you of?' Sev-
eral of us replied, ' We are of the
Sixteenth New Hampshire.' The}'
then said, 'Don't fire again, boj's;
we will take care of you now.'

" We laughed and we cried, for de-
liverance had come. The boys be-
longing to the gunboats soon landed
and came into the fort. They com-

menced to hug us and danced about
like children, saying, ' Well, boys, j^ou
did make a grand fight."

The importance of holding Don-
aldsonville against the enemy may
be inferred from the fact that as soon
as Port Hudson surrendered, Banks
sent the troops under both Generals
Gardner and W'eitzel for its relief.
General Banks, in making his report
to General Halleck, says: "Upon
the surrender of Port Hudson I
found it necessar)^ to move every
available man to Donaldsonville to
dislodge the enemj-."

General Emory, in his report to
General Banks, says: "Our victory
at Donaldsonville was a brilliant af-
fair." In his report to Colonel Ir-
win, Emory uses the words, "An
heroic and brilliant defense." "There
were," he says, "two reduced com-
panies of the Twenty-eighth Maine
and convalescents sent up from New
Orleans to meet the enemy." Those
one hundred and eighty men with
the gunboats repelled the assault of
the enemy, taking one hundred and
thirty prisoners, one lieutenant-colo-
nel, one major, two captains, five
lieutenants ; killing and wounding
three hundred and fifty men, among
whom were Colonel Phillips and
others of high rank.

"By this repulse, combined with
that at Ea Fourche, the enemy has

238

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

been checked in his movement upon
New Orleans and the attempt to cut
connection between Banks and his
suppHes has been frustrated."

Says General Banks in a letter to
General Emory :

"The behavior of Major Bullen
and the troops under his command
at Donaldsonville was most credit-
able, and has greatlj' encouraged the
spirit of the army. It is a compen-
sation for the disgrace that rests upon
Brashear." [He refers to the cap-
ture of that place with all its stores
by the Confederates under General
Taylor.]

The official report, as given by
General Stone to General Banks, is
also highly complimentary. His
words are, "The troops at Donald-
sonville made one of the most brave
and gallant defenses that has come
within my experience." General
Stone also recommended for promo-
tion every officer engaged in that
defense.

The fighting is so well attested in
the Confederate records and has been
so lightly touched upon by our Fed-
eral historians, that we feel justified
in introducing nearly the full text
of the following report of Brigadier-
General Thomas Green to Major
Louis Bush, assistant adjutant-gen-
eral :

Headquarters First Cavalry Brigade,

July 3, 1863.

Major : — In accordance with the order of
General Mouton commanding me to take pos-
session of the Federal fort at Donaldsonville,
I took up the line of inarch from Thibodeaux
about eight o'clock at night with Hardeman's,
Shannon's, and Herbert's regiments of my bri-
gade, and lyane's, Stone's, and Phillips's regi-
ments of Colonel Major's brigade and Semmes's
battery.

After marching the entire night, 1 encamped
within nine miles of the fort about nine o'clock
the next morning.

During the 27th I rested our jaded troops and
horses, getting all the information which could
be procured relating to the situation of the fort,
its force, defenses, etc., etc.

I sent Stone's regiment to the east of the
bayou I^a Fourche, and ordered him to ad-
vance towards Donaldsonville on the bank and
attract the attention of the enemy, and, if pos-
sible, attack him on that side. With the bal-
ance of the command I advanced during the
night of the 27th to within a mile and a half of
the fort, where I dismounted my command.

Having determined on the plan of attack, I
called the officers commanding the regiments
together, and explained to them specifically
the position each one was to occupy in the
assault.

Major Shannon, with the Fifth Texas
Mounted Volunteers, was to perform a cir-
cuit around the fort, reach the Mississippi
above and advance down to the stockade of
upright timbers set in the ground between the
levee and the water's edge and then make an
entrance.

Colonel Hardeman, with the Fourth Texas
Mounted Volunteers, was to move up the
bayou road and as soon as he heard the fir-
ing of Shannon, or of the enemy, he wafe to
assault the fort at the water's edge, along the
stockade and simultaneously with Shannon to
make an entrance through the stockade and
with Shannon assault the garrison, hand to
hand.

Phillips, Lane, and Herbert, with their regi-
ments, were to envelop the works, moving up
around them to the brink of the ditch, shoot-
ing down the cannoneers and their supporters
from the ramparts at a distance of only sixteen
or eighteen feet.

Major Shannon encountered the pickets of
the enemy and a fire was opened upon him by
the artillery of the fort.

He advanced to the stockade, driving the
enemy from it and firing upon them through
their own port-holes. He pushed a part of his
men over their works, the men helping each
other over; the balance of his men moved
around the stockade through the shallow
water, into the fort.

Hearing the small arms of Major Shannon
amid the roar of artillery, I ordered an advance
of the whole line. The fight was desperately
contended on every part of the ground.

Colonel Hardeman, with the Fourth Texas,
being unable to control his guide, was delayed
in his attack on the La I'ourche side until
nearly daylight, but his casualties show with
what determined courage that veteran regi-
ment stood its ground after it came into action.

The attack on the fort was made before light,
at two o'clock in the morning, for the purpose

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

239

of preventing the gunboats from being in ad-
vance. We were not repulsed until we found,
after getting into the stockade, that there was
yet a ditch to cross, running in front of, and
parallel with, the river. At this ditch a most
desperate fight ensued between the commands
of Shannon and Phillips and the enemy.

Our men here used brickbats upon the heads
of the enemy, who returned the same. Captain
Killough and Lieutenant Land and other offi-
cers and men were wounded on their heads
with bricks thrown by the enemy, which had
first been thrown by our men. There never
was more desperate courage displayed than
was shown by our men engaged in this as-
sault. The enemy have been shown an ex-
ample of desperate courage which will not be
without its effect. [We wonder if the same
cannot be said of the brave defenders inside
the fort.]

We 'fought from two o'clock a. m. until
daylight without intermission, and our dead
and woiinded show the desperation of the
assault. The garrison contained between five
and six hundred Federals. [Oh, no ; only one
hundred and eighty.]

At daylight I sent a flag of truce, asking per-
mission to pick up our wounded and bury our
dead, which was refused, as I expected. My
object in sending a flag so early was to get
away a great number of our men who had
found a little shelter near the enemy's works
and who would undoubtedl3' be taken pris-
oners. As it was, I must have saved a hun-
dred men by instructing my flag of truce
officer as he approached the fort to order our
troops still there, away. ,

We mourn the fall of many of our bravest
and best officers and men, among them Major
Shannon, Captain Ragsdale, Lieutenants Darby
and Cole of the Fifth, Major Ridley of Phillips's
regiment, and Lieutenant Cartwright of the
Fourth, and others.

Had the fort fallen into our hands, I am sat-
isfied, with a little work on it, we could have
held it against all the gunboats below Port
Hudson.

Its capture and occupation would doubtless
have caused great uneasiness and inconve-
nience to the Federal army besieging Port Hud-
son. In this view much risk was justified in
its attempted capture.

This report of Green was sent to
Major-General Taylor, who for-
warded it to Richmond with these
comments : —

"Personal observation satisfies me
that no engagement during this war

has illustrated more signally the des-
perate valor of Confederate troops
than the attack on this position.

"Although the attack may have
been in .some respects an unwise one,
I am not disposed to attach the
slightest censure to so gallant a sol-
dier as General Green, whose dispo-
sition is to attack the enemy wher-
ever he finds him."

These reports, taken from the offi-
cial records of the Confederacy, while
recording the courage of their troops
equally, though indirectly, extol the
courage of the brave and resolute
defenders of Donaldsonville, for the
desperate fighting of which the Con-
federates boast must have been met
by equally desperate fighting by the
few Federal troops who confronted
them. The story of that defense,
unless fully confirmed by official re-
ports from both Federal and Con-
federate sources, could hardly be
believed.

Here were one hundred and eighty
men, the majority of whom had be-
fore this scarcely been under fire, the
majority of whom were just out of
the hospitals of New Orleans, con-
fronted by six regiments and one
battery commanded by as brave offi-
cers as ever led Confederate troops.
Our men were so scantily officered
that one of the Sixteenth privates
on the morning after the first night's
fighting was appointed acting ser-
geant and put in command of the
squad that defended the stockade
running from the fort to the river.

The fighting, a part of the time,
was hand to hand ; the men used
brickbats when lying on opposite
sides of the embankment that sepa-
rated them from the enemy. The
enemy tried foul means, as well as

240

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

fair. Near iiiorning of the first
night's fight, a squad of the enemy
said, "We wish to surrender." Sev-
eral of our men mounted the parapet
to receive them and were instantly
fired upon. They did not forget this
piece of cowardice and treachery, for
when a flag of truce a little later ap-
peared, the bearer of it was shot, as
were two others who appeared on a
similar mission. This was not right
according to the rules of war, but
our men had been fooled ; they re-
solved not to be fooled again, rules
of war or no rules of war.

There was still sounding in their
ears, too, the words of General Green,
"No prisoners will be taken." It
was a fight for life, and those of the
Sixteenth who were engaged in that
defense certainly showed just as good
fighting material as was ever shown
by the "Gallant Second" of New
Hampshire, or by the " Fighting
Fifth" of New Hampshire, or by
the ' ' Unsurpassed Eighth ' ' of New
Hampshire, or by any other regi-
ment that ever fought in an open
field or in defense of a beleaguered
garrison.

CHAPTER XV.

DARK HOURS PRECEDING THE FALL OF PORT HUDSON.

N order to complete the
story of the fall of Don-
aldsonville it was nec-
essary to anticipate the
fact that Port Hudson
capitulated just before the siege
of Donaldsonville was raised. We
must now return for a few moments,
and in doing so will take a broad
outlook of military affairs as they
appeared the last of June and first of
July, 1863.

At no other time, perhaps, after
the beginning of the war, had there
been so great uneasiness throughout
the country. Multitudes of our peo-
ple were discouraged. Mourning for
the dead was in the city mansion and
mountain hamlet. Great peace meet-
ings under the auspices of Fernando
Wood and others were held in Coop-
er Institute, New York. In a few
months, the time for which thou-
sands of our troops had enlisted

would expire, and apparently there
were none to take their place.

In Indiana, mobs were resisting the
drafts, and Mr. Lincoln confessed
that it was doubtful if they could be
enforced in New York or Boston,
The restoration of McClellan was ve-
hemently urged. Foreign powers
were on the point of interfering and
that meant the recognition and, likely
enough, the success of the Confeder-
acy. Pope Pius IX. sent his con-
gratulations to Jefferson Davis, De-
cember 3, 1863; a photograph copy
of that original communication is
now in the hands of the historian of
the Sixteenth.

Desertions, that had been increas-
ing to an alarming extent, were mul-
tiplied, though in the interest of truth
and in justice to all, it .should be said
that 95 per cent, of the desertions
were from among foreign-born vol-
unteers.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

241

The month of May had brovight
the defeat at Chancellorsville. Then
followed the retreat of a dispirited
army across the Rappahannock.
The nineteenth of June found the
enemy with a powerful army in the
state of Pennsylvania. The entire
Army of the Potomac and the Capi-
tol at Washington were imperiled.

In the West and Southwest the out-
look was scarcely less gloomy and
disheartening. The naval attack on
Charleston was a failure. Fort Mc-
Alister, held by the Confederates,
had resisted all attenipts to capture
it. Burnside had been outgeneraled
and checked in his Tennessee cam-
paign. Rosecrans was making no
progress against the Confederates
under General Bragg. The enemy,
crossing the Ohio river, triumphantly
invaded the state of Indiana, and
there were no available troops to
intercept them. Grant had sur-
rounded Vicksburg, beginning the
siege in May, but on the first of July
31,000 resolute . men opposed him,
avowing their purpose to starve on
mule meat sooner than surrender.

Galveston, Texas, had been re-
captured by Magruder, which gave
the Confederates valuable stores and
an open seaport. The condition of
the Department of the Gulf during
the month of June and the first of
July at other points was equally un-
promising. Twice had our troops
been repulsed before Port Hudson,
with an aggregate loss of nearly four
thousand men. Our ranks, too, were
rapidly depleting by sickness and
death.

In our own regiment, as we have
seen, not a day passed without its
death records. General Gardner in
Port Hudson seemed in no haste to

surrender, though twice invited to
do so. It is true that his communi-
cations watli the outside world were
cut off and his supplies were much
reduced, but he was so strong in
numbers that w'e did not know how
soon he might assume the aggressive,
and he was so very strongly en-
trenched, his fortifications were so
faultlessly constructed, and the
ground inside was so admirably
adapted for the movement and mass-
ing of troops, that he had nothing
or but little to fear from assaults out-
side. It is pretty evident that on
the first of July Gardner had about
as many effective men within the for-
tifications as Banks could command
outside.

Extending the view, we find that
after Green's first repulse at Donald-
sonville he erected masked batteries
at different points on the river, men-
aced our navigation and threatened
to cut our base of supplies.

General "Dick" Taylor. General
Mouton, and Colonel Major moved
against Brashear City, which was but
feebly garrisoned, and with scarcely
any resistance captured it, June 22,
together with all the personal and
general baggage of our troops that
had been stored there.

In General Taylor's report to Gen-
eral Boggs he says, "The quautit}'
of quartermaster, commissary, and
ordnance stores captured exceeds
belief." In another report he says,
' ' We have captured supplies enough
to last during the rest of the war."
He also adds, "In money value my
capture at Brashear City is worth to
the Confederacy two millions of dol-
lars."

B}- what oversight this vast amount
of property had been left thus exposed

24:

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

has never yoX beeu reported. Fortu-
nately, the Sixteenth on its return
from Butte a la Rose took along its
baggage, some of which was at
Brashear City, though most of it had
been stored at Algiers.

After the capture of Brashear City,
a detachment of Taylor's troops
moved along the Western railroad
toward New Orleans and reach a
point within tweutj'-five miles of that
city. July 4, General Emory wrote
to General Banks, as we have stated,
that he must send him troops or the
enemy. Green from the north and
Taj'lor, Moutou and Major from the
west would capture the citj' in spite
of any defense he could make. Such
was the condition of affairs in the
Southwest.

Thus, after fighting with varied
success for 30 months, our national
affairs seemed darker and more dis-
couraging than ever before.

Who that then lived, having one
spark of patriotism in his bosom, did
not tremble for the American repub-
lic ? Defeat at one or two points ap-
parently would have changed at that
juncture the entire results that fol-
lowed.

But we must add that somehow our
bo3'S were not altogether disheartened.
Perhaps it was because they did not
know the worst.

The calculation as to the time of
our enlistment that had been made
was that our regiment ought to have
left lyouisiana for home, June 15.
But all talk as to the expiration of
our term of service during those dark
hours was at an end.

We were there on the field, and
though dying dail}- were to remain
willingly, if not cheerfully, until Port
Hudson was taken, or until we were

defeated. We had not the remotest
thought of leaving our comrades of
other regiments while the principal
object for which we had gone to the
Department of the Gulf was not ac-
complished.

About one hundred and fifty miles
north of us at the head of the forces
besieging Vicksburg was one of the
least demonstrative but most remark-
able military geniuses this world has
known. Fighting to him was no
pastime, but the discharge of a most
solemn duty. He fought that there
might be peace. To him even the
insignia of war were distasteful.
While visiting foreign lands, though
repeatedly urged, he uniformly re-
fused to witness military pageants.
He was courageous, persistent,
shrewd, skilled, and supremeh^ pa-
triotic. "He had the patience of
fate and the force of Thor." A sin-
gle saying that fell from his lips is a
ke}^ to his military life :

" If a battle is inevitable, be the
first to strike and never scare."
"When in doubt, move to the front,"
was another of his maxims. In a
letter to his father he wrote, " I never
expect to have an army whipped,
unless it is badly whipped and I
can't help it."

His mind was as comprehensive as
that of Napoleon, but he was unlike
Napoleon in that he had no selfish
purposes to subser^-e.

We have time to watch the ascen-
dency of his star only for a moment,
and ma)' do this because he it was
who not only conquered Vicksburg,
but relieved the Nineteenth Army
Corps from its perilous situation, and
rendered the fall of Port Hudson not
only possible but certain.

BOAT SONG.

243

General Grant left New Carthage
in April. In 20 days he marched
200 miles, fonght five battles, took
90 cannon and 6,000 prisoners, de-
stroyed Pemberton's communication,
and then drove him to the wall.
Grant's loss in killed, wounded, and
missing was onl}- 4,000. No better
campaign ever was planned or exe-
cuted ; the people for the first time
in six months were exultant. A
military genius had come to the res-
cue of the republic.

Grant reached Vicksburg in May.
To capture it was his purpose.
There were delays,' obstacles, and
interferences which to manv men

would have been insurmountable.
' ' When do you expect to take the
city?" tauntingly asked a female
secessionist. " I can 't tell exactl}',"
said Grant, "but I shall stay till I
do, if it takes 30 years." His invinci-
ble purpose was irresistible, and July
4, two months after the siege began,
the stars and stripes waved over this
" Gibraltar of the Confederacy."

In its capitulation there were sur-
rendered to Grant 15 generals, 31,600
soldiers, 172 cannon — "the greatest
capture of men and armament ever
made at one time since the invention
of gunpowder, if not .since the crea-
tion of man."

Note. — The author desires suggestions or corrections from any comrade of the Sixteenth or any other regiment.

\^To be colli in ii cd.\

€*SK**J^,*#^

m-^

m^^

BOAT SONG.

By Laura D. NicJiols.

Come, Love, come !
The sun sinks low ;
Haste, Dear, haste !
The soft winds blow ;
The boat swings near,
And away we glide, —
My lyove and I, —
And the lake is wide.

Far and away,

Like a leaf, we float :

Soft as a kiss

The waves lap the boat ;

Dark on the gold

Of the sun-steeped west,

Like a fortress old,

Is the mountain cre.st.

Pine boughs murmur.
The birds chirp low,
Sing, Love, sing !
As I lightly row ;
Calmly — sweetly —
The da}- is done.
And stars are gleaming
One by one.

Conducted by Fred Cowing, State Superintendent of Public Instruction .

OVERWORK

r 1

By A. H. Campbell, Ph. D.

In regard to the sixth question, should study at home during last half-

" Should children below the high year of grammar school in order to

school study outside of school hours, become accustomed to high school

and if so, how much ? " there was work."

great unanimity of opinion. Here the With one exception, all the teachers
opinions of teachers, superintendents, gave an affirmative answer to this ques-
and physicians were in accord. tion. Some modify the answer, how-
No superintendent gives an unquali- ever, with such expressions as " But
fied "No." One says, "Not to any little", " Only collaterally and incident-
great extent " ; another, " Not as a rule, ally." One writes: "I think children
Strong children may study one hour per below the seventh grade should study
day " ; another, " Certainly but little, if none out of school. Let them play,
any; no regular lessons should be as- work, and be young animals."
signed to be learned at home, except The opinions of the physicians are
in the highest grammar grade." He somewhat at variance with one another
further adds : " In twelve years' experi- and with the others reporting. One
ence as a grammar master I never says " No " ; another, "As a rule, no " ;
assigned a regular lesson to be-learned others say, "But little", "Boys a little,
out of school. At the same time, many girls not any", "An hour or so will not
pupils did study at home to supplement injure", "What is needed to maintain
the study in school. The results, so a fair standing."

far as proficiency at the end of the The general verdict from all classes

course were concerned, were fully as taken at an average seems to be that

good as in schools which required much children above the sixth grade should

work at home." One says : " Pupils study out of school from one-half to one

'.\ddress before the Merrimack Valley Teachers' Association, at Nashua, N. H., May i, 1S97.

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT. 245

and one-half hours, the work in school A superintendent says : " The per-

occupying about five hours. Several sonality of the teacher is a factor in

would have one lesson learned outside, the health of the child. The nervous

a number would have outside study teacher who frets, scolds, and irritates

begin with a half-hour's work during (alas ! there are many) is an enemy to

fourth, fifth, or sixth years in school. A good health and good nature. The

very few would have the time of outside teacher who inspires, smiles, and is ever

study extended to two or more hours serene, is like a sunny day and an in-

when pupils reach the grammar school, vigorating air — a constant tonic.''

The seventh and last question was: A teacher writes: "The answers

" How many hours should high school given are intended to apply to children

students work daily, including recita- in good health. I have no doubt that

tions ? " children of less than average strength

As regards the time element of study are injured by trying to do the work

in the high school, there was no great performed by others more robust. Our

diversity of opinion among superintend- rigidly graded schools make no pro-

ents and teachers. vision for pupils physically weak, but

Two gave the length of time for strong in ambition. The desire to

study, including time of recitations, as mark high, to graduate with one's class,

five hours ; about ten per cent, gave or to take a prize, may work a serious

six or six and one-half hours ; fifty per injury to an ambitious child who is not

cent, gave six to eight hours, an aver- strong. In my school I have always

age of seven hours ; thirty per cent., watched such pupils and advised with

seven to nine hours, an average of parents whenever the scholar was ap-

eight hours ; one gave eight to ten proaching the danger point. I think

hours. The general average was about our system should be so arranged

seven and one-half hours. The physi- that children not physically or mentally

cians favored a less number of hours strong may be able to remain in school

for study, the limits given being five with profit and without injury, and that

and eight, and the general average their necessarily slow pace may not hold

about six and one-half hours, an hour back bright, strong scholars. This could

less than the time as given by the edu- be done by having more teachers and

cators. arranging for the individual, rather than

Investigations have shown that the for the crowd. I would remove all com-

average time spent in study and reci- petitive markings and rely upon arous-

tation in the high schools of Boston, ing the interest of the pupil. Much of

Providence, and Fitchburg, during the the present rigid classification should

five days of the forty weeks in the be discontinued." He says further:

school year, is seven and one-fourth " One thing which does try the nerves

hours daily, of which from two hours to and exhaust the strength of both teach-

two and one-quarter are spent outside ers and scholars is our present system

the school. A few statements not clas- of miscalled discipline. Any system of

sified above, but called out indirectly discipline which is applied to the out-

by the questions, contain such valuable side, which concerns itself with pre-

hints for teachers that I quote them venting disorder by applying penalties,

here. and which represses all childish spirit

246 EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

and compels children to ever face obtain, there is no danger from over-
front, to keep in position, to keep step, work; for the confidence and interest
and all the petty things which are engendered preclude the possibilit}' of
done under discipline, is enough to more being required by the teacher
break down the health of a strong than can without danger be performed
child." by the child, while his physical well-

I have in this paper quoted at length being is looked after with a solicitude

from leading educators and physicians equal to that for his intellectual and

who are better situated and qualified for moral.

forming a correct judgment upon this A superintendent writes : " It makes a

subject than I myself. They are rep- great difference whether children study

resentative men in their professions, of from love of it and an interest in the

large and varied experience, and their work, or whether they feel compelled

opinions should have much weight with to do it, and call it a grind."

us in determining our course in relation It is quite evident from the letters

to the questions discussed. received and from other educational

In many places a great change has writers that with our modern pedagogi-

taken place in the later years as re- cal principles, or by means of them,

gards the consideration in which teach- many of the evils prevailing in the

ers and pupils mutually hold one an- schools of the past generation have

other. Formerly, the relation between been eradicated. The exposure of

the two was one of enmity. The pupils these evils and a showing up of false

looked upon the teacher as their natural ideas, with a presentation of better

enemy, while the teacher considered methods and principles by such writ-

himself as the taskmaster and governor, ers as Herbert Spencer, Horace Mann,

and was apparently delighted to find an and Mark Hopkins, have done much to

opportunity to assert his authority by change the sentiments of the people

inflicting punishment. Representatives in regard to education, afid to make

from such schools have declared that the schools what they should be.

they felt as if something had been Spencer, in his " Education," shows

neglected, or that the school work was to what a shameful extent the claims

not properly closed any day without of the physical nature were neglected

their receiving a flogging, and the in his day in Great Britain, both in

teacher seemed equally conscious of a school and out. He thus speaks of

neglect of duty if he failed to find an the " Excess of mental application " :

opportunity for inflicting it. "On old and young the pressure of

Now all this is changed ; the bonds modern life puts a still increasing

of sympathy and love uniting teacher strain. In all businesses and profes-

and pupils are, theoretically, at least, sions intenser competition taxes the

as they should be, the strongest that energies and abilities of every adult,

bind any two classes together. The and with the view of better fitting the

pupils look upon the teacher as a friend young to hold their place under this

and counsellor; the teacher upon the intenser competition, they are subject

pupils as priceless gems entrusted to to a more severe discipline than here-

his care. tofore. The damage is thus doubled.

Where these ideal conditions fully Fathers, who find not only that they

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT. 247

are run hard by their multiplying com- the representative schools of Scotland
petitors, but that while laboring under and England of the last generation, in
this disadvantage, they have to main- which twelve or more hours were de-
tain a more expensive style of living, voted to study, one hour per day to
are all the year round obliged to work " exercise in the open air, in the shape
early and late, taking little exercise, of a formal walk, often with lesson
and getting but short holidays. The books in hand, and even this only
constitutions shaken by this long-con- when the weather is favorable at the
tinued over-application they bequeath appointed time."

to their children. And then these com- For myself, I confess I have no sym-

paratively feeble children, predisposed pathy or patience with those who are

as they are to break down under an forever crying out against overwork in

ordinary strain upon their energies, are our schools. The fact is, that most of

required to go through a curriculum the children don't know what hard

much more extended than that pre- study is, and as for close application,

scribed for the unenfeebled children many know no more how to apply

of past generations." themselves to their studies than does

-We have heard this opinion echoed Joe, the ourang-outang, in the Zoo at

so many times in our own land in the Boston.

past by observing educators and profes- Because boys and girls in their teens

sional men — and many, I find, even now are reciting three or four hours and

hold this same judgment — that we must mull over their books two or three

believe that there is or was a cause for hours more each day of twenty-four

such a complaint. hours, they and their parents accuse

But has there not been a change in the teachers of gradually killing them

our own land, and, I think, also in with hard work in the schools, and

Great Britain, in that the brain is not leave out of the account the cigarettes

so much as formerly cultivated at the smoked on the sly, the evenings spent

expense of the brawn ? . ' upon the streets and in the lounging

Have not the medical inspection of places of loafers, fetid with foul air ;
our schools, the gymnasiums, physical which things, with the indigestible stuff
and manual training, walking clubs, eaten and drunk, are enough to under-
snow-shoe clubs, and all other kinds mine even a robust constitution,
of clubs for getting out-of-door exer- The girls, too, their parents approv-
cise, the lawn tennis, and the bicycle, ing, come out early into society, in
revolutionized the sentiments of soci- order to shine, dress, and dissipate in
ety, put a premium upon health and parties and late suppers until ennui
strength, and made red cheeks, a good seizes them as its prey ; then they
physique, and powers of endurance are taken from school because "over-
more attractive than pale cheeks and worked " by the merciless teachers,
lavishing languor? It was my privilege to spend the last

As a consequence of such provision year among a people who considered it

for the training of the physical nature, the main business of childhood and

or of this change of sentiment, we find youth to gain an education and to fit

no longer in our schools such curricula themselves for manhood and woman-

of study as Spencer gives of some of hood.

248

ED UCA TIONA L DEPA R TMENT.

While I cannot subscribe to all the
ideas of the Germans in regard to edu-
cation, I do believe we may, if we only
will, learn many valuable lessons from
them.

One of the most important of these
is that home is the proper place for
children nights. In Germany no boys
or girls are seen upon the streets after
dark, or in the beer gardens and other
places of amusement. How strangely
in contrast with our streets and public
places, where the sound of young voices
is heard and youthful faces are seen
till late into the night !

It is a fact that the Germans as a
race are stronger and more robust than
the Americans. The Germans claim this ;
we allow it. It is also probable that
their children have greater powers of
endurance than ours, but it is certainly
a wonderful eye-opener to us to learn
what an amount of study their children
can endure and grow fat upon it.

They begin school at six years of age.
The first year they recite about eighteen
hours per week. The number of hours
of recitation gradually increases until
the eighth school year, the last year in
the elementary school, when they have
from thirty-two to thirty-five hours per
week of solid recitations — about seven
hours per day. All of these lessons
must be prepared at home. If you
ask how long it takes to prepare these
lessons, I must say I never could learn,
but they must have them, for no child
would dare face his teacher with a les-
son unlearned. This kind of work is
continued for forty-six weeks each year.
Do you wonder that the Germans excel
in scholarship ? Would you not expect
the parents to cry out against the over-
work in the schools .'' They never think
of such a thing ; they have always been
accustomed to it, and the children keep

well, for in general they observe the
laws of health.

There is connected with every school
in the land a gymnasium or "Turnen
Halle," and two of the hours each week
are devoted to physical development,
according to the laws of the land.
Would that our state would make but
a beginning in providing gymnasiums
for such training !

As the pupils go from the elementary
schools to the secondary schools — the
Gymnasia or the Normal schools — the
hours of recitation per week are still
increased. I have hour plans for these
schools — and they are the same for all
schools of the kind in the state — which
show above forty hours of recitation per
week, for each class.

Their recitations begin at seven in
the morning and close at six at night,
with two hours of intermission at
noon, and five minutes, sometimes ten,
between classes. When do you sup-
pose they learn their lessons? How
many hours must they work per day ?

After seeing pupils for a year thriv-
ing on such work as this, could you
believe that pupils, properly cared for,
are overworked by five to seven hours
of study and recitation for five days in
the week and from thirty to forty weeks
per year?

To sum up, then, the results of this
investigation, we find : First, that the
children are not overworked in our pub-
lic schools. Second, that very few cases
of serious injury from overwork have
been observed, and these, as a rule, have
been the result of ambitious students
doing double work, or of pupils weak
physically performing the tasks of the
stronger. Third, that the charge of over-
work is often made against the schools
by ambitious parents whose children
have failed to do the work from mental

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

249

or physical weakness, for which the
school is not responsible : that it is
sometimes made from ignorance of the
work and requirements of the school ;
as a scapegoat for evil for which the
home is responsible ; from the desire of
finding fault, and from positive ill will
toward the schools or teachers. Fourth,
that a large per cent, of the so-called
cases of overwork are due to worry, in
cities where promotion and graduation
depend upon examinations alone ; that
neglect to care for bodily health is re-
sponsible for many failures ; that out-
side interests — music, entertainments,
etc., — and outside attractions — parties,
late suppers, and other dissipations —
must bear the burden of greater respon-

sibility. Fifth, that children below the
high school should study out of school
hours from about the sixth grade up,
beginning with a half hour and in-
creasing to an hour and a half ; that
high school students should study at
least seven hours, including recitation
periods.

Given good teachers in good school
buildings, properly lighted, heated, and
ventilated ; with healthy children, whose
chief business is to gain an education
to fit themselves for life's duties, there
is no danger of overwork in doing what
is required in our public schools, if the
common-sense laws are observed as
regards periods of labor and rest, re-
creation, sleep, food, and exercise.

DANIEL G. ROLLINS.

Daniel G. Rollins was born at Great Falls (now Somersworth) October 18,
1842, and died in the same city August 30. He was graduated from Dartmouth
college in i860, and from the Harvard law school in 1862. After practising law
in Portland, Me., for a few years, he went to New York City and held the office
of assistant United States district attorney from 1866 to 1869. Four years of pri-
vate practice followed, and from 1873 to 188 1 he was an assistant district
attorney. In the latter year he was elected surrogate of the county, and served
in that capacity until January i, 1888. Since that time he had been engaged in
the practice of his profession with the firms of Carter, Rollins &: Ledyard and
Rollins «& McGrath. He was a very successful criminal prosecutor and a prom-
inent club man.

UR. J. 15. RANU.

Dr. Joseph B. Rand was born in Barnstead, April 2, 1S24, and died at White
River Junction, September 3. He practised medicine at Hartford, \'t., for thirty
years, from 1858, but of late years had interested himself in woolen mills.

250 N£IV HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

ARTHUR G. BURLEV.

Arthur Oilman Burley was born in Enfield, October 4, 181 2, and went to Chi-
cago in 1835. He was the pioneer crockery merchant of the then straggling vil-
lage, and from 1852 to the time of his death was the head of the prominent firm
of Burley & Tyrrell. For forty-four years he was treasurer of Oriental lodge,
F. and A. M. He died in Chicago, August 28.

MILON DAVISON.

Milon Davison was born in Unity in 1834, was graduated from Dartmouth col-
lege in 1862, and died at Alexandria, Minn., while on a business trip, August 23.
He was principal of various academies in New Hampshire, Vermont, and New
York, was admitted to the bar in 1872, and since 1874 had been treasurer of the
Windham County savings bank at Newfane, Vt.

A. J. FOGG.

Andrew J. Fogg, aged 74 years, died at his home in North wood, September 6.
He was once register of deeds for Rockingham county, and had been sergeant-at-
arms in the national house of representatives, and a clerk in the war department
at Washington. He was an historical writer of considerable note and a contributor
to many publications.

AARON H. BEAN.

Aaron Heywood Bean was born in Gilmanton, August 23, 18 14, but removed
to Boston with his parents when a boy. He became president of the National
Fire Insurance company in 187 1, of the Faneuil Hall Fire Insurance company in
1874, and of the Hamilton National bank in 1883, holding the last-named posi-
tion at the time of his death. He had served in the Boston common council and
was one of the wardens of the South Congregational church in that city. He died
in Boston, September 2.

J. C. PLUMMER.

Joseph Chadwick Plummer was born in Dover, March 13, 1833, and died in
Minneapolis, Minn., August 30. He operated the first machine shop in Minne-
apolis, and was for a time at the head of the tool department of the Milwaukee
railroad. Later, he engaged in the real estate business, and from 1889 to 1897
was city assessor of Minneapolis.

C. G. GOODRICH.

C. G. Goodrich died at Newport, Vt., August 26. He was born in Enfield,
January, 1820, and held many town offices. He left his entire estate, amounting
to $75,000, for the endowment of a library building and its equipment.

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. XXHT.

NOVEMBER, 1897.

Xo.

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

By Henry Robinson.

CHARLES MARSEILLES, of
Exeter, belongs to the edition
dc luxe of men. He is a cheer-
ful, courteous, cultured gentleman, —
not the Chesterfield of unctuous form,
but the Sir Philip Sidney of noble
heart and gentle mien. Possessed of
ample fortune, he is scholar, littera-
teur, retired journalist, and states-
man unique in never having sought
or held public office.

Gen. Gilman Marston pronounced
him '' f/ir scavid T]iurIo7c UVrd of
Ai)u rica n politics . ' '

Marston knew Weed, and respected
and revered him, in common with the
controlling minds of their daj^ Weed,
as Governor Morgan, of New York,
once declared, was the one private
citizen who had the power to make
judges, governors, and presidents.
The diary of John Quincy Adams
records the evidence that during the
presidenc}' of that excellent man,
Thurlow Weed was already an
active, influential, and patriotic poli-
tician, and during his life he strongh'
swayed every subsequent national

administration, even that of Abra-
ham Lincoln, who sent for him re-
peatedly in stress of momentous af-
fairs, and relied upon his actual per-
sonal assistance, as well as upon his
practical wisdom and sagacity as an
adviser. He graciously but reso-
lutel}^ pushed aside the honors of
high ofifice, which were easily within
his grasp, allowing no suspicion of
self-seeking to impair his power for
good. He was a dynamo of human
energy, and yet such was his charm
of manner, his aptitude for terse and
vigorous statement, his magnetism of
person, strength and force of charac-
ter, that President Lincoln persuaded
him, in the War of the Rebellion, to
visit Europe, as the unhired repre-
sentative of the Union cause, to min-
gle in the society of the capitals of
France and luigland, that the atti-
tude and course of our countr}-
might not be misunderstood. Him-
self a printer, he thus followed in the
footsteps of the printer Benjamin
Franklin, and served the nation as
well as at the Court of St. Cloud, as

252

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

Franklin did at an earlier crisis in our
national life. It lias been well said
that the golden link which thus con-
nects the names of Benjamin Frank-
lin and Thurlow Weed will carry
them down together in history, to be
cherished amongst the choicer memo-
ries of a grateful posterit3^ He pre-
ferred to be a king-maker, rather
than sit upon the throne himself and
wield the sceptre. Politics was his

The Late Thurlow Weed, as he Looked in the Meridian
of his Wonderful Political Power.

"ruling passion," and his biogra-
pher says that to follow his active
career is to trace the history of state
and national party contests. He was
a man of lofty principle, of absolute
integrity, of genial and sympathetic
nature, courageous and inflexible,
3'et with the gentleness of a woman,
and an especial fondness for little
children. Many a time he emptied
his pockets to the poor. " When the
virulence of partisan strife shall have

passed away," wrote Henry J. Ray-
mond, "the thousands whom he
aided, the hungry whom he fed,
the weak whom he strengthened, the
men in every walk whom his hand,
his influence, and his purse have
alwa5'S been ready to assist, will
cherish the remembrance of his
worth. Few nobler hearts ever
lived."

With these inestimable qualities in
mind, and upon more than one occa-
sion, in all seriousness, Gen. Oilman
Marston gave to his beloved fellow-
townsman, Charles Marseilles, the
significant and especially appropriate
sobriquet of '"the second Thurlow
Wccdr

It is a high compliment, but richly
does Mr. Marseilles deserve it, for he,
too, never sought office ; he, too, is
not a selfish, scheming politician bent
on pensonal advancement, rather than
the general good; he, too, is a type
of high-grade political organizer of
which the modern school of politics
furnishes only very few examples ;
he, like his illustrious exemplar, has
no rewards to give, no offices to fill,
yet his influence is wide and potent,
and within the scope of it he is a
chieftain, a patriot with views above
spoils and place, a genial, honest,
accomplished, lovable character, with
a charming personality, an enlight-
ened intellect, a broad and deep
soul.

"Somewhat back from the village
street," or, as Col. Robert G. Inger-
soll would express it, "out of the
mad race for money, place, and
power, — far from the demands of
business, — out of the dusty highway
where fools struggle and strive for
the hollow praise of other fools," —
resides Charles Marseilles. His is

CHARL KS MA RSJilL L ES.

253

the ancestral home of his devoted
wife. It is cheerful, comfortable, in-
clined to the antique and pictur-
esque, and withal a literal store-
house of choice books and portraits
of eminent persons, conveniently-
arranged collections of autograph
letters unequalled in the histor}' of
the state, and a great variety of lit-
erary and other curiosities. His
library contains many rare volumes,
issued in limited and extra-illustrated
editions, and original manuscripts of
high value. More than a few of the
books have upon their fl5'-leaves the
autograph signatures of their cele-
brated authors, and not infrequently
additional inscriptions in their own
handwritiiig. For instance, the poet
John G. Whittier, an early personal
friend of Mr. Marseilles, neatly wrote
in an elegant copy of his beautiful
winter idyl, "Snow-Bound," the fol-
lowing :

"To Charles Marseilles, who was an attache
of the store of Ticknor & Fields when it was
first published, I am sure that this little volume
will not be unacceptable, with the good-will
and wishes of its author.'.' '

Mr. Marseilles is also the fortunate
possessor of a copy of the edition dc
luxe of "Snow-Bound," limited to
250 copies and printed on Japanese
paper. In this the poet also wrote
his name, with the date, "Novem-
ber, 1 89 1." It will be remembered
that in September of the next year
he passed away. Mr. Marseilles still
speaks of him in terms of the tender-
est affection. He evidently held a
warm place in his big heart. He
was a dear and unchanging friend,
one of the truest, simplest, and most
liberal-minded and consistent Chris-
tian pillars of his time, one of the
very greatest of America's poets, and

one of the noblest of patriots and
philanthropists, a gifted man, who
wrote not for sentiment merely, but
for the good and elevation of his fel-
low-men and for the cause of his
country in the most critical crisis of
its existence.

Mr. Marseilles attracts and is
attracted by the great of earth.
He is a hero and a hero- worshiper.
Hanging on the wall of his replete

Thurlow Weed, at 84 Years of Age.

study, elegantly framed in uniformity
with the portrait of Hamilton Fish,
is a superb, life-size (head and shoul-
ders) photographic portrait, — the
finest and most realistic I ever saw,
— of Great Britain's greatest man,
.statesman, and leader, the Right
Honorable William Evvart Gladstone,
for which he recenth^ gave a sitting.
It was obtained from London soon
after it was completed by the artist.
Enclosed tastily in the same frame is
presented this autographic communi-

254

CHARL US MARS EI L IJIS .

cation from Mr. Gladstone to Mr.
Marseilles personally :

" To Ch. Marseilles, Esq.,
Exeter, New Hampshire,
U. States of America.
" Dear Sir : According to the practice of the
House of Commons, obituary notices are com-
monly confined, as in the case of President
I^incoln, to the leaders of parties. It is not
impossible that I may have written to Mrs.
Lincoln ; but my letters were some thousands
a year, and 27 years have passed. I can give
no positive testimony on the subject.
" Your Very Faithful Servant,

" W. E. Gladstone."

Mr. Marseilles says that Gladstone
has a liking for postal cards. My
attention was called to the promi-
nence of the whites of his eyes in his
portrait, a characteristic also notice-
able in likenesses of Webster and of
Bismarck.

The Late General Gilman Wlarston.

Another of the loyal friends of Mr.
Marseilles was the Right Reverend
Phillips Brooks, bishop of the Protes-
tant Episcopal diocese of Massachu-
setts. They carried on a consid-
erable correspondence, holding each
other in high esteem, as is evident

from the original letters of the emi-
nent preacher, several of which I had
the privilege of reading.

Mr. Marseilles gave me a graphic
description of his first call upon this
noted clergyman. He was royally
received, ushered into his elegant
library, and had a pleasant and edi-
fying talk. He impressed Mr. Mar-
seilles as the greatest man that he
ever met, — tall and massive of frame ;
large, bright, and expressive eyes ; a
stirring, active movement ever to his
person ; his tone of voice earnest ami
captivating ; rapid of speech ; simple,
easy, yet dignified of bearing ; im-
pressive and interesting in conver-
sation ; something seemingly more
than human about him, — spiritual,
divine ! It was an hour that Mr.
Marseilles will treasure always in
fondest memory. In his large, se-
lect, and very valuable collection of
photographs of the world's most
eminent worthies, — divines, philoso-
phers, statesmen, scientists, poets,
literati, editors, judges, barristers,
publicists, financiers, etc., all bear-
ing autograph signatures-, — are two
portraits of different dates, of Phillips
Brooks, and one of him taken to-
gether with his friend Archdeacon
Farrar, of IvOndon, also with signa-
tures. A large and handsome photo-
graph of the bishop, from life, im-
pends from the wall of what Mr. Mar-
seilles calls his "den," the very at-
mosphere of which is fraught with
erudition and ennobling recollection.

The residence of Mr. Marseilles is
a veritable treasury of literature and
portraiture, but nowhere in it is to be
found a demoralizing page, and no-
where the portrait of an offensive
personage. His surroundings are as
classic and pure as his own mind and

CHA RL ES MA KSIilL L /:S.

255

heart. Amongst liis personal ac-
quaintances were Holmes, Long-
fellow, Agassi/., Lowell, vSaxe, and a
host of others, to know whom inti-
mately as he did is a liberal education,
and to be familiar with their daily
lives and work is to be replete with
entertaining reminiscence, making
him a most enjoyable companion.

The life story of Charles Marseilles
would swell an interesting volume.
It covers a broad field. I can glean
only a little of its abundant wheat
here and there. Almost any phase
of his eventful career, or even of his
voluminous correspondence, would
make a historic chapter. The shafts
of calumny have never touched him,
for early he clothed himself with the
invincible armor of pure intent. Sin-
cerity, frankness, enthusiasm, tolera-
tion, remarkable persistence, and
clean-cut, high-toned efficiency have
characterized him. His unpreju-
diced estimates of his fellow-men are
refreshing. Like Taine, the histo-
rian, his aim is to substitute the
reign of truth for that of illusion.
He is always prompted to doff his hat
and bow his head in the presence of
a verified fact. Yet his is an elastic
temperament, kept invariably within
the limits of justice and right. A
great source of his strength is his un-
broken confidence in mankind, his
generous analyses of human nature,
and charitable interpretation of the
doubtful courses of men. His is a
search tor the good and not for the
evil. Underlying his sunshiny dis-
position is a groundwork of calm,
hoi}' trust, contentment and resigna-
tion. The mainspring of his exist-
ence is an abiding philosophy that
savors of the Sermon on the Mount.
His most wonderful forte is his ac-

knowledged prescience of political
events.

He was born, Juh' 19, 1846, in the
city of Philadelphia. James G.
Blaine was also born 111 Pennsyl-
vania, and when he and Charles
Marseilles conferred together once as

The Poet John G. Whittier.

to the presidential canvass, the great
diplomat made politic allusion to this
coincidence. Both immigrated to
New England, one to the Pine Tree,
the other to the Granite, state.

Peter Marseilles, the stanch father
of Charles, was formerl}^ a prosperous
merchant in the " Quaker city," but
at the time of his death, April 21,
1878, at the ripe old age of eighty-
five, he had lived many years in re-
tirement from active business. He
was of Huguenot descent (there is no
better blood). He never, except on
one occasion, had even a headache;
his teeth never decayed. He was
apparently in perfect health on the

CHA RLES MARSEILLES.

morning of his decease, and he went
ont of the house for his daily walk.
He fell, just as he stepped from the
door, and exclaiming, "Well, this
is singular!" became unconscious.
Those were his last words. He was
an honest man, what Alexander Pope
would pronounce, "the noblest work
of God." On the occasion of his
death, one of the Philadelphia news-
papers headed his obituary notice

James T, Fields, Nathaniel Hawthorne, William D. Ticknor.

with the words, "An Old Philadel-
phia Millionaire Who Got Rich
Honestly." No better tribute, no
higher encomium could be paid to
the success of any man in these
days, when, in the world's haste to
get rich, so many forget the obliga-
tions of strict integrity.

The parents of Charles Marseilles
had seven children, — three boys and
four girls, the youngest now living
being a girl. Charles was the young-
est son. Their children were all

born in Philadelphia. Charles began
life in the house, then the home of
the Marseilles family, on Pine street,
above Ninth, in the "City of Broth-
erly lyove." It was the house next
the residence of Jay Cooke, the great
financier who .so successfully nego-
tiated the United States government
loans, during the War of the Rebel-
lion, and who after the war issued
the circular bearing the Words which
evoked diverse comment, — "A na-
tional debt is a national blessing! "

The first years in the life of Charles
Marseilles were those of the ordinary
school-boy. In 1862, at the age of
sixteen, he was a student at the
Freeland seminary, now Ursinus col-
lege, at Freeland, now Collegeville,
Montgomery county, Pennsylvania.
Amongst the pupils was Daniel Parry
Ivippincott, who came from New Jer-
sey. He was an orphan. Charles
made his acquaintance, and fre-
quently visited him in his room. On
one of those visits he took from the
bookshelves a volume, Cleveland's
' ' Compendium of American Litera-
ture," which gives brief biographical
sketches of American writers and
choice extracts from their works. In
•many of these biographical sketches
young Marseilles read passages like
this, — "After the usual preparatory
studies at the Phillips Exeter (N. H.)
academy, he entered " such and such
a college. Amongst the men emi-
nent in after life, who as lads fitted
for college at Phillips academy, might
be mentioned Daniel Webster, Ed-
ward Everett, George Bancroft, Jared
Sparks, lycwis Cass, Richard Hil-
dreth, John G. Palfrey, John A.
Dix, Benjamin E. Butler, and many
others. It is unnecessary to add
that no such school in the whole

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

257

country has on its list of students the
names of so many pupils who became
eminent and distinguished in mature
years, as Phillips academy. Of the
boys whom Mr. Marseilles person-
ally remembers at this superior insti-
tution are Robert Todd lyincoln, son
of President lyincoln ; Ulysses S.
Grant, Jr., son of General
Grant ; Levi Woodbury
Blair, son of Montgomery
Blair ; August Belmont,
Jr., son of August Bel-
mont, and many others
equally distinguished by
their parentage or their
own advancement in later
life.

Young lyippincott and
Marseilles sent for a cata-
logue of the school, and
approved the course of
study. lyippincott went
thither to continue his ed-
ucation, and Marseilles
subsequently obtained his
father's consent to do so,
and spent a year very prof-
itabh' at the academy. Lip-
pincott afterward obtained
a position as bookkeeper
with the wealthy and ex-
tensive firm of N. K. Fair-
bank & Co., of St. Louis,
Missouri, receiving a sala-
ry of $5,000. He departed
this life at St. Louis, in 1892.

After his year at Exeter, Mar-
.seilles attended school at Philadel-
phia, where his instructor was Wil-
liam Fewsmith, an alumnus of Yale
college, a learned man and an excel-
lent teacher. Not long ago he wrote
Mr. Marseilles a complimentary and
interesting letter, from which I am
permitted to quote :

'' I have had a dim idea for years that you
were hard at work somewhere in New Eng-
land, and usefully, too, for I knew and remem-
bered your intellectual activity and your desire
to get ahead. I rejoice that I have not been
disappointed. Your letter of eighteen pages
shows the pen of a ready writer. The incidents
so flowinglj- recorded are very interesting. It
cannot be otherwise. I have always had a
feeling of special sympathy for those who have

Tre Right Honorable William Ewart Gladstone.

tui hy f>crniissioii of //i\i^f:ir, Pluitog:i-iiphcr, New York.

been with me that have made a grip upon socie-
ty and have held on, and you are one. I have
a suggestion to make. Write a book of reminis-
cences ; call it "The Story of Twenty Years,"
or something similar. I^et it contain sketches
of the deceased, and perhaps of some of the liv-
ing celebrities with whom you have lived and
have been well acquainted. vSpeak, too, of
your experience as a journalist, and of journal-
ism of the larger cities, etc."

Dr. Robert H. Labberton was one
of the best remembered of Charles

258

CHA RLES . MARS JUL L ES.

Marseilles's teachers. He was a
learned Frisian, whose father was the
government superintendent of educa-
tion in Holland, one of the royal
coterie of that country. His spe-
cialty was history, and he was him-

The Right Reverend Phillips Brooks.

self the author and compiler of an
excellent historical atlas. "Young
man, mark this ! " he would exclaim ;
"all through life, whenever a seem-
ingly difficult question presents itself
to you, use your common sense, and
nine times out of ten, — yes, ninety-
nine times out of a hundred, — you
will give the correct answer."

Another of the instructors of
Charles Marseilles, at Philadelphia,
was Reginald H. Chase, previously a
tutor in Harvard university, and the
editor of an edition of Horace, the
ancient Latin poet.

It was at his home in Philadelphia,
whilst Charles Marseilles was under

the instruction of Mr. P'ewsmith, that
he contracted the ' ' war fever, ' ' the
Rebellion being then in progress.
He besought his father to be per-
mitted to go to Norwich university,
a long-established military college,
then located at Norwich, but now at
Northfield, Vermont. He consented,
and Charles went alone. There he
received a military training, it being
his ambition to enter the army, not
as a private, but as an officer. The
president of the university at Nor-
wich was then the Rev. Dr. Ed-
ward Bourne, a very scholarly man,
educated in Ireland, an alumnus,
with honors of Trinity college, Dub-
lin. Charles regarded him as the
best teacher of Latin and Greek that
he ever had, and he had several ex-
cellent teachers. He read and spoke
both Latin and Greek with a readi-
ness and an accent that could not
have been nearer perfection if they
had been his native tongues. He
was alwaj^s running over with wit
and humor. As he was a Protestant
Episcopal clergyman, he would occa-
sionally remark that it seemed incon-
sistent in him, a minister of the gos-
pel of peace, to be at the head of a
military institution, to teach young
men to fight.

While he was still a student at
Norwich university, the great Civil
War came to an end, and with it the
ambition of Charles Marseilles for a
military career in the service of his
country. So, being resolved to "pad-
dle his own canoe," as he expressed
it, he left the institution at Norwich,
and went to Boston, where, single and
alone, without any one to assist him,
without consulting with any of the
Norwich university faculty, or even
with his father, he obtained a posi-

CHARLES MARSEIL L ES.

'■59

tion as second salesman in the world-
famed book publishing house of Tick-
nor & Fields. That was a pleasant
and fortunate move for him. James
T. Fields, the senior member of the
firm (now deceased), was the most
remarkable and happilj'-favored man
that Mr. Marseilles ever knew, in the
possession of eminent literary friends,
and the enjoyment of their society.
This is fully attested by Mr. Fields's
admirable book, "Yesterdays With
Authors," and by the more recent
work by Mrs. Fields (his widow),
"Authors and Friends."

Amongst the literary celebrities
who would frequently, — some almost
■daily, — visit him at his elegant pri-
vate room at the store, with many of
whom Mr. Marseilles became ac-
quainted and held conversation, were
those already mentioned in this arti-
cle, besides Harriet Beecher Stowe,
Thomas Bailey Aldrich, E. P. Whip-
ple, and William D. Ho wells (who
then first permanently came East
from Ohio, to assist Mr. F'ields in
editing the Atlayitic Monthly maga-
zine).

Mr. Fields visited Europe at differ-
ent times. He met there the highest
and noblest of the English literati
and men of genius, including Car-
lyle, Tennyson, the poet laureate,
Dickens (who was a guest at Mr.
Fields's home in Boston when in this
country), and many others of whom
he most entertainingly and instruc-
tively talked to Mr. Marseilles and in
his presence. He visited Tennyson
at his Farringford home. One day
at about dusk, while seated in the
library, the poet invited Mr. Fields
to take a stroll in his grounds. Ten-
nyson, familiar with the land, pro-
ceeded with ease, whilst Air. Fields

occasionally stumbled over the un-
even places. All at once Tennyson
halted, threw himself to the ground
on his hands and knees, sniffed the
verdure apparently, turned and
glanced up to Mr. Fields and ex-
claimed, — " Doon, mon, and smell of
the violets I " Returning to the libra-
ry they were seated, when Tennyson
took a volume of his poems and read
aloud with marked elocutionary ef-
fect his familiar lines beginning, —

" Break, break, break,
On thj' cold, graj- stones, O sea 1 "

Once when in London, Mr. Fields
was invited to a dinner party given
to eminent literary people, and went.
While waiting to be summoned to the
repast, he was seated beside a gentle-

The Late Peter Marseilles, Father of Charles Marseilles.

man who was a stranger to him. Turn-
ing to him, he remarked, " I am Mr.
Fields, of the publishing house of
Ticknor «& Fields, in America. Our
firm has just published the novels of
your countryman, George MacDon-

26o

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

aid." He proceeded to say a few
words eulogistic of that distinguished
author's works, when the new ac-
quaintance interrupted him with the
remark, " I have the honor to be that
gentleman, sir ! "

Mr. Fields cited this as illustrative
of the poet Tennyson's line in his
" In Memoriam," transposed :

" He seems so far and yet so near."

The Late James T. Fields.

Of Mr. Fields's ready wit this inci-
dent is related : Being on a certain
occasion one of an assemblage of lit-
erary people, a somewhat pompous
gentleman, knowing his reputed fa-
miliarity with authors and their
works, arose, and asking if he could
tell " at what period in his life Cowper
wrote these lines," proceeded to read
some verses of his own composition.
Mr. Fields listened attentively, and
after the reading was finished replied

that there could have been onl)^ two
periods in his life when Cowper could
have written them, either in childhood
when he was suffering from measles,
or toward the close of his life when he
was lapsing into idiocy. The versifi-
cation suggested the measly period,
but the sentiment the idiotic.

Mr. Marseilles says that Mr. Fields
was a most felicitous man in conversa-
tion ; he was brimful of
delightful anecdotes and
reminiscences.

Mr. Marseilles remained
with the publishing house
of Ticknor & Fields a lit-
tle less than a year. He
then went to Exeter, New
Hampshire, where he had
been a pupil in the Phil-
lips Exeter academy, in
i862-'63, and he pur-
chased the Exeter Neivs-
Leffcr, a weekly journal
then nearly fifty years es-
tablished and neutral in
politics.

He was then (Septem-
ber ID, 1866) hardly over
twenty years of age. By
this purchase he became
the sole proprietor of the
Nczvs-Lcttcr. In a short
time he had doubled its
size and circulation, and made it the
model local newspaper of rural New
England, and of the whole United
States, as for that matter. He se-
cured local correspondents in nearly
every town, village, and community
in the county of Rockingham, who
weekly gathered, wrote, and sent
him local news from their respect-
ive localities. This caused the paper
to gain immediately a greatly-in-
creased circulation in every one of

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

261

the large and flourishing towns of
that considerable county. The field
was large enough to give the paper a
good financial standing, and the pub-
lication became a gratifying business
success. But Charles Marseilles was
far from being satisfied with the neu-
tral position of the paper in politics.
He was intensely interested in the
great issues that the war had pre-
cipitated upon the country, and he
made it an earnest and an unwaver-
ing advocate of Republican principles,
and during his proprietorship it be-
came recognized as one of the ablest
and most influential party newspapers
in the United States. The News-Let-
ter, under his management, fought
many hard battles for the party,
especially in New Hampshire, and
won great credit for its accomplish-
ments. It should be kept in mind
that it was not an easy task to pub-
lish a satisfactory newspaper in Exe-
ter, a great school-town, and a very
critical New England community, but
the Neivs-Lctter was faithful and help-
ful to the school interests, and kept
fully abreast of the recognized intel-
ligence and culture of the place.

For two successive years, while en-
gaged in editing and publishing the
paper, Mr. Marseilles was selected to
conduct courses of lectures and con-
certs, knovVn as the Exeter lyceum
entertainments, for the instruction
and amusement of the people during
the long winter evenings. They were
a delightful success, and added to the
popularity of the town as an educa-
tional and literary centre. He also,
at other times, engaged his worth}-
Boston friend, the genial and ac-
complished James T. Fields, to de-
liver in Exeter two courses of lec-
tures, six in each course, during two

successive seasons, on Wednesday
evenings. They were able, instruc-
tive, and entertaining, full of reminis-
cences of the eminent men whom he
had known or visited in this country
and in Europe. On one of the even-
ings of his presence in Exeter, Mr.
and Mrs. Marseilles gave him a re-
ception at their own home, which was
attended by the prominent people of
the place.

The death of the father of Mr.
Marseilles placed him in possession
of much increased capital, and with
a natural paternally inherited am-
bition, he sought a larger field for
journalistic labor and usefulness. He
went to New York, the wealthiest
and most densely populated state in
the United States. There, two daily
journals were offered for sale to him,
one, the Republican, at Utica, estab-
lished in the political interest of
Roscoe Conkling, whom Charles
Marseilles personally knew, and then
visited at his home in the city of
Utica ; the other, the Daily Erceman ,
in the city of Kingston, on the Hud-
son river. He purchased the Daily
Freeman and also the Kingston Week-
ly Journal, two separate and distinct
papers in a city of 20,000 inhabitants,
the seat of Ulster county, which had
a population of 85,000.

This county was, with the excep-
tion of New York, the leading Demo-
cratic stronghold in the state. That
party considered itself invincible in
"Old Ulster," and an incidental re-
mark in one of the first issues of the
Freeman, that it was the intention to
make a Republican county of this
Democratic bailiwick, raised a Demo-
cratic horse-laugh throughout the
county. It was only two months be-
fore the fall election of 1878 when he

262

CHARLES M ARSE If. LES.

took possession of the newspapers and
began his work, but by dint of argu-
ment and the strong presentation of
Republican principles in his papers,
he aided the Republicans to elect
their candidate for county treasurer,

The Late Daniel Parry Lippincott.

the only county oflfice of importance
to be filled at that election. It was a
notable victory for the Republicans,
but a disagreeable surprise to the
Democrats, whose leaders confessed
the influence of the Erccmaii and the
Jotinial, and complimented the power
and skill with which they had led the
campaign. But larger surprises were
in store for them. The whole county
management was found objectiona-
ble, and in many instances corrupt ;
the election of a Republican county
treasurer opened the way for the
publication of various excessive bills,
and the crusade thus begun was
pushed item by item in the journals

owned and conducted by Mr. Mar-
seilles, until, in i8<8o, the Republi-
cans swept the county, electing every
ofliicial, and giving their candidate
for congress 2,400 majority. Taxes
were greatly reduced, an economical
and righteous administration of affairs
was inaugurated, and leading men.
regardless of political afhliation, ac-
knowledged the value of Mr. Mar-
seilles's journals. Not until 1892 did
the Democratic party win a decisive
victory in Ulster county, and at a
later election it was swept out of
power again by what the people
there used to style a "Marseilles
majority." He was at the time of
the occurrence of these events the
sole proprietor and manager of three
separate and influential Republican
newspapers, — the Kingston (N. Y.)
/oiuiial, the Kingston (N. Y.) Ercc-
man, and the Exeter (N. H.) News-
Letter, — and was an important ele-
ment not only in local but in national
politics.

Mr. Marseilles was an earnest ad-
vocate of Benjamin H. Bristow, of
Kentucky, as a Republican presi-
dential candidate, as against Blaine,
in 1876. Mr. Bristow, who had been
the able and efficient secretary of the
treasury under President Grant, had
won the respect and confidence of
Mr. Marseilles, who enjoyed his per-
sonal acquaintance. While Mr. Bris-
tow was in the treasury department,
Mr. Marseilles held an important in-
terview with him as to national poli-
tics. The secretary greeted him most
cordially. Mr. Marseilles says that
he was a marked personage, tall,
large, and stout, a typical Kentuck-
ian, pleasant, easy and attractive in
conversation. He had formerly been
the government prosecuting official

CHARLES MARSEIL L ES.

263

in his state, and had been active in
suppressing illegal whiskey distilling.
The opponents of his nomination to
the presidency were active in pro-
curing repeated charges against him
of collusion with the law-breaking
distillers. From every published ac-
cusation he immediately vindicated
himself in a printed answer. These
answers were forthwith republished
in the A^eivs- Letter, with brief edito-
rial comments ; and when Mr. Mar-
seilles called upon the secretary he
noticed upon his desk copies of the
paper. Said Mr. Bristow, referring
to the allegations, "Mr. Marseilles,
for myself I care nothing about these
malicious charges that my enemies
bring against me ; I can and do
answer every one of them ; but I do
not like them because they trouble
my wife." He expressed his grati-
tude to Mr. Marseilles for his friend-
ship and cordial support, and im-
pressed him with his honesty of char-
acter, his ability and dignity.

Rutherford B. Hayes, of Ohio, was
nominated for the presidency in the
Cincinnati convention. Three votes
from New Hampshire and several
from Massachusetts were cast for
Bristow. Blaine found himself in
the very position of Daniel Webster
in 1852, which position he had
strongly deprecated in an interview,
not many weeks previous, with Mr.
Marseilles, at the Parker house, in
Boston.

One afternoon, on one of Mr. Mar-
seilles's visits to Washington, as he
was strolling leisurely through the
capitol, he met Hon. Nehemiah G.
Ordway, of this state, then sergeant-
at-arms of the national house of rep-
resentatives. Mr. Ordway accosted
Mr. Marseilles with the remark.

" Well, Marseilles, have you seen
all the candidates for the presi-
dency?" Mr. Manseilles replied,
"I don't know. I've seen Blaine,
Conkling, and Bristow." Ordway
asked, "Have you seen Morton?"
Mr. Marseilles answered in the nega-
tive. "Well," he said, "you must
see Morton ! " Whereupon, Mr. Ord-
wa)'- escorted Mr. Marseilles to the
elevator, and thence to the top floor
of the capitol building. He went to
the door of the committee room, where
Senator Oliver P. Morton passed much
of his time when not in the senate
chamber, and knocked. The signal
was answered by his secretary, who
said, " Gentlemen, the senator is not

The Late Hon Roscoe Conkling.

to be seen." Mr. Ordway responded,
" Say to the senator that Mr. Ordway,
sergeant-at-arms of the house, is here
with a friend, the editor of a leading
and influential Republican journal of
New Hampshire, whom I would ver\'

264

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

much like to present to the senator."
The door was closed. In a moment
the message came, " The senator will
see the gentleman." We were ush-
ered in, and Mr. Marseilles was in-
troduced to Senator Morton, the great
war governor of Indiana, whose pa-
triotism, courage, and inflexible will
had saved that great state from going
over to the confederacy. He was a
large, able, strong, intelligent person-
age, at that time perhaps the ablest
man in the United States senate.

Senator Conkling had told Mr.
Marseilles that Connecticut and New
Jersej' were but the bedrooms of New
York ; that is, there were enough
voters resident in those two states.

The Late Hon. Benjamin H. Bristow, Secretary of tne
Treasury, under President Grant.

having their homes and living there,
but who daily did business in New
York, to control and carry them in a
presidential election ; nominate a can-
didate who will carry New York, and
he will, represented vSenator Conkling,

also carry New Jersej^ and Connecti-
cut. Mr. Marseilles understood that
the inference that he was expected
to draw from this remark was, to
nominate Conkling, of New York,
and he would carry three states, —
New York, New Jersey, and Con-
necticut. When Senator Morton was
told this, he said, " That is true in a
measure, Mr. Marseilles, but as In-
diana goes in October, so will New
York go in November." (Indiana
then held her state elections in Octo-
ber.) Mr. Marseilles understood that
the inference that he was expected to
draw from this was, nominate Mor-
ton, of Indiana, who would carry
the state for the Republican party
in October, and then in the presi-
dential election, in November, he
would carry Indiana, New York,
New Jersey, and Connecticut, — four
states instead of Conkling's three,
with an Indiana man as the party's
standard-bearer in the presidential
election. Bristow showed remark-
able strength in the convention, but
not enough to secure the nomination.
His candidacy, however, defeated the
ambition of Blaine, and resulted in
the nomination of Hayes. Although
Bristow was not nominated, yet to
the day of his death he remained one
of the warmest and most grateful
friends of Mr. Marseilles. He was
the embodiment of gratitvide, an ex-
ception to the lines of Wordsworth :

" I 've heard of hearts unkind,

Kind deeds with coldness still returning ;
Alas ! the gratitude of man

Hath oftener left me mourning."

Mr. Marseilles is replete with such
reminivScences. With Congressman
James F. Briggs, of New Hampshire,
he once called at the White House,
and drifted into a considerable con-

CHARLES MARSEIL LES .

^65

versation with President Hayes.
Whether there, or in the senate
chamber, or in the house of repre-
sentatives, or as the welcome guest
of cabinet ministers, and others in
authority, his advice was cherished,
and he was always treated with a
courtesy and consideration worthy of
his dignity and his intelligence. He
was recognized as one of the powers
behind the throne, and men sought
his persuasive influence, and feared
his vigorous editorial pen.

It was in the spring of 1879, whilst
he w-as still residing in Kingston, New
York, conducting his two newspapers
there, that Charles H. Bell, of Exeter,
was appointed to the ofhce of United
States senator, to fill the vacancy
caused by the expiration of the term
of Senator Bainbridge Wadleigh.
The president had called an extra
session of congress, and without Mr.
Bell's appointment, New Hampshire
would have been represented by only
one senator during a very important
session, as the legislature at that time
did not meet until June to fill the
vacanc}'. Mr. Bell had been the
warm and faithful friend of Mr. Mar-
seilles, his near neighbor, and a wise
counsellor, in the early days of his
journalistic career ; and as there
threatened to be opposition to his
admission to the senate, Mr. Mar-
seilles went to Washington to' assist
him, and rendered him valuable aid.
It was at that time that Mr. Marseilles
"bearded the lion in his den," and
called upon Senator Conkling, who
was reported as opposed, on technical
ground, to the admission of Mr. Bell,
and held an earnest conference with
him on the subject. vSenator Conk-
ling received the famous editor with
kindliness and deference, and talked

to him in a confiding way, thus show-
ing his appreciation and respect.

Mr. Marseilles had in Mr. Bell a
warm and faithful friend until his
death, on November 11, 1893. In
1881, Bell was nominated by the Re-

The Late Governor Charles H. Bell.

publicans for governor of the state,
and was triumphantly elected. He
filled this honorable position with
marked ability, and left a record as
one of New Hampshire's greatest and
purest executives. Mr. Marseilles
pronounces him one of the foremost
lawj^ers of New England, a man of
the highest scholarly attainments,
whose services to the state as a faith-
ful and accurate histoi'ian will keep
his name in enduring remembrance.

These are mere suggestive out-
lines of important political move-
ments in which Charles Marseilles
was one of the central figures and
controlling factors. His name is
indissolubly linked with the inner

266

C HARL ES . UA RSEIL L ES .

history of his country. His knowl-
edge of internal affairs, if put in
print, would be a romance of real life
indeed. How many things Charles
Marseilles knows, which to tell
would make him a brilliant news-
man ! Said George Alfred Town-
send recentl}^ "The plainest public
man contains more news than the
noblest reporter. What could not

The Late Dr. John H. Douglas, Physician to General
Grant.

Charles II tell beyond what Samuel
Pepys has mistold? "

It was in 1882 that Charles Mar-
seilles's health broke down. He fell
a victim to nervous prostration from
overwork and malaria, and sought
restoration in the healthful, bracing
atmosphere of St. Johnsbury, Vt.
Upon partial recovery, he removed
to Exeter, where he has ever since
made his home. It was then that he
had an opportunity to test the strong,
faithful friendship of Gov. Charles H.
Bell. Although Mr. Bell was then

occupied with the duties of the gov-
ernorship, he visited Mr. Marseilles
regularly every daj^ through rain as
well as sunshine, during his delayed
recovery, walking over a mile to his
residence. " His kindness," says
Mr. Marseilles feelingl}^ "was such
as word or deed could never repay.
Dear Governor Bell ! He has passed
on before me to the higher and better
life, where the richest reward awaits
him who in his love for God also
loves his neighbor as himself."

Providence raised another man
who greatly befriended Charles Mar-
.seilles, in the hour of his adversity,
Dr. John H. Douglas, of New York,
the last physician of the illustrious
.soldier and patriot, Ulysses S. Grant.
Dr. Douglas had been the physician
of Mr. Marseilles in New York, and
remained his advisory physician after
his return to New England. Between
doctor and patient grew a strong tie
of attachment, and the death of the
physician, in October, 1892, at the
age of sixty-eight, was deeply
mourned by Mr. Marseilles. In 1884,
General Grant came to Dr. Douglass
for treatment. From that time until
Grant's death, July 23, 1885, he was
in almost constant attendance upon
him. After Grant's death the phy-
sician's own health was completely
shattered, and he did not have the
physical strength to regain the prac-
tice which had slipped from his
hands during his long neglect of
private business. Financial reverses
came upon him, and in a short time
he found himself deprived, through
unfortunate investments, of the means
which he had accumulated during his
professional career.

During the almost fatal sickness of
Mr. Marseilles, his various newspaper

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

ib-j

property was disposed of by friends,
in his interest, and he is now living
in comparative retirement, akhough
the public, especially New Hamp-
shire and Massachusetts people, do
not need to be reminded of his active
participation in politics, and the
remarkable power that he still con-
tinues to wield as a vigorous and
somewhat voluminous newspaper con-
tributor and indefatigable letter-
writer. His knowledge of men and
measures is superior, and he writes
with great vigor of argument, and
with uncommon clearness and cor-
rectness of language.

He was the warm friend and
almost worshipful admirer of the late
President Chester A. Arthur, who
showed in mau}^ ways and for many
years his friendship for him. Mr.
Marseilles found Mr. Arthur always
the same manly type, — a thorough
gentleman, a scholar, a conscientious
executive, and a statesman, able and
honest. He stood courageously and
approvingly by Mr. Marseilles in his
great work of political reform in
Ulster county, New York. It has
been remarked that there was that
about Arthur that would remind one
of Marseilles, and there is certainly
that about Marseilles that brings to
mind Arthur, — a certain elegance of
manner, unfailing courtesy, grace of
•carriage, and that indescribable
something-or-another that denotes
superiority, fine sensibilities, refined
tastes, culture, and genuine aris-
tocracy.

The familiar precept, " What is
worth doing at all is worth doing
well," finds splendid exemplification
in Charles Marseilles. Whether it
is the ordering of a book, or the com-
posing of an editorial, or whatever it

is, there is the same nicet}' of execu-
tion. He never drifts into a slouchy
habit, and all that he does is in easy
obedience to his ruling sense of pro-
priety and fitness. His stationery is
exquisite, his utensils and facilities
the most approved, his assortment of
monograms the very finest and most
expensive used, except possibl}^ by
the crowned heads of Europe.

The Late President Chester A. Arthur.

So many dignitaries and function-
aries have been drawn in friendship
to him, and fond has he been of so
many, that it is hard to discriminate.
One of the most distinguished Ameri-
can statesmen now living, and admit-
tedly the very ablest in matters of
state and finance, is the Hon. John
Sherman, secretary of the United
States. He and Charles Marseilles
are bosom friends. Within the few
days last past I have seen a letter
from the secretary attesting this fact.
For months previous to the assem-

268

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

bling of the Republican National con-
vention, in 1 88 1, to nominate candi-
dates for the presidency and vice-
presidency, Mr. Marseilles was suc-
cessfully laboring to secure delegates
favorable to John Sherman for the

Hon. John Sherman, Secretary of State.

head of the ticket. When the time
for the election of a successor to John
Sherman to the United States senate,
in 1892, was drawing near, Mr. Mar-
seilles was again active and earnest,
from patriotic impulses only, for the
reelection of the grand old man to
succeed himself for the fifth term.
Repeatedly did Senator Sherman
thank him. In February, 1892, he
wrote him from Washington, "Again
accept thanks for your generous sup-
port, and believe me when I say that
I appreciate it as highly as that of
any one who favored my election."

Amongst the most agreeable of the
recollections of Mr. Marseilles is that
of his correspondence with Hon.

Hamilton Fish, an honored states-
man of his time, a man of exalted
moral character, whose name is
imperishably written in the archives
of New York and of the nation. He
had filled to popular satisfaction and
usefulness the offices of representa-
tive in congress, governor of his
native state. United States senator,
secretary of state for eight years
in the cabinet of President Grant,
and commissioner on the part of the
United States, to negotiate the treaty
of Washington, which was signed by
him. May 8, 1871. He was also,
during the Civil War, by appoint-
ment of Secretary of War Stanton,
a commissioner in company with
Bishop Ames, to visit the United
States soldiers confined in lyibby
prison, at Richmond, and other
prison pens in the South, " to relieve
their necessities and provide for their
comfort." The confederate govern-
ment, however, declined to admit the
commissioners within its lines, but
intimated a readiness to negotiate for
a general exchange of prisoners, the
result of which was an agreement for
an equal exchange, which was car-
ried out substantially to the end of
the war.

It was Mr. Marseilles who first
informed Mr. Fish of a new English
version of the Bible. He took excep-
tion to the idea of a new translation,
and quoted the couplet, —

" The Bible I read at my mother's knee
Is a Bible good enough for me."

The letters of Mr. Fish show the
kindly nature of the man, and his
cheerful humor. They cover a great
variety of topics.

For a quarter-century United States
Senator William E. Chandler has

CHARL ES MA RSEIL L ES.

269

been one of Charles Marseilles's clos-
est, best, and truest friends. Their
admiration is mutual. Mr. Mar-
seilles declares that since the days of
John P. Hale, the state has not been
so ably represented in the national
senate. He is also an enthusiastic
admirer and champion of ITnited
States Senator Jacob H. Gallinger.
The mutual favors between Mr. Mar-
seilles and both the New Hampshire
senators is abundant evidence of their
affectionate and appreciativ^e rela-
tions. Mr. Marseilles was a tremen-
dous power in their respective can-
vasses for election and reelection,
and his voluntary, unselfish, and
uiiremitting labors early and late in
their behalf insured their heart-felt
and lasting gratitude. There are
several different portraits of both sen-
ators at the Marseilles homestead,
two of them in neatly-framed groups
of what became known as "The
Literary Bureau." I had the honor,
with Clarence Johnson, private secre-
tary to Senator Chandler, to be
counted a member of each group, an
honor all the greater and more cher-
ished because so able, estimable,
experienced, and beloved a literary
personage as Charles Marseilles is
my senior and superior in both.

It is not surprising that Charles
Marseilles and Thomas B. Reed
should drift together. Mr. Mar-
seilles's admiration of Mr. Reed is
equalled only by Mr. Reed's affec-
tionate good-will and generous senti-
ments toward Mr. Marseilles. Mr.
Marseilles has only just returned
from a visit to the great Maine states-
man. They talked of literature, of
art, of politics, of business, and
between them seems to be a remark-
able communion of spirit. It ap-

peared to be a great relief to the
brilliant speaker of the national
house of representatives, to njeet a
live, versatile gentleman, a radical
Republican politician, acquainted and
in touch wilh the great men of the
day, thoroughly familiar with the
affairs of the country, and yet him-
self asking nothing, expecting noth-
ing, in the way of emolument, office,
or preferment whatever.

The year 1896 found Mr. Mar-
seilles as intensely interested in the
Reed canvass for the presidency as
he had been during the several
months next previous, and had a
few others written as earnestlj^, and
worked as assiduously as he did,

inJ^^TnZJ^'^^

The Late Hon. Hamilton Fish,

Thomas B. Reed would now be in
the presidential chair. This is no
reflection upon President McKinle5%
for whom Charles Marseilles has
deep respect, and whose administra-
tion has his sympathy and support.

2 70

CFIARLES MARSEILLES.

Mr. Marseilles is one of those men
who do not look npon politicians as
a class to be avoided. He finds in
them men of the finest calibre, the
keenest discrimination, whose actu-
ates are generally good, whose im-
pulses are beneficent, whose practices
are far from being as reprehensible
as they are frequently represented.
His labors, however, have not been

Hon. William E. Chandler, United States Senator.

with them more than with others.
He has taken a deep and brisk inter-
est in all public questions, and held
interesting and voluminous corre-
spondence with many of the leading
men of the country in all the walks
of intellectual activity, — in science,
art, literature, religion, social affairs,
etc.

In this connection I recall a letter
from the late Rev. Dr. George E.
Ellis, of Boston, as to whether or not
John Quincy Adams made a practice
of repeating a familiar child's prayer
nightly. In some of the historical

researches of Mr. Marseilles, perhaps
in the preparation of some literarj^
article, he had occasion to touch
upon this point, and he wrote Dr.
Ellis, who was an intimate friend
of the deceased president, asking
whether or not it was his practice,
before closing his eyes in sleep, to
utter the familiar little prayer which
pious mothers for centuries had
taught their children. Dr. Ellis
answered that it was once his privi-
lege to remain with Mr. Adams
through a night. He was then
seventy-eight years of age, and felt
the infirmities of his years, and Dr.
Ellis hoped to do him some little per-
sonal services. At bed-time, after
some entertaining talk, he spoke
.somewhat as follow^s:

"It is time to go to sleep, and I
must say my every-night prayer,
which my mother taught, as I have
said it every night in Europe and
America. I never mumble it, but
say it aloud," which he did, repeat-
ing it distinctly, —

" Now I lay me down to sleep ;
I pray the Lord my soul to keep ;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take."

Speaking of John Quincy Adams,
with reference to this incident, Mr.
Marseilles said, — "He was a busy
man, burdened with grave responsi-
bilities and cares, but he found time
every day of his life to utter this little
prayer. Can any Christian believer
who obeys the injunction of the Mas-
ter to pray, doubt that this prayer
sufficed to keep the great man's
heart true to his Maker, or that it
was as acceptable as if he had sum-
moned all the powers of his elo-
quence for an address to the Most
High? The example is one worthy

CHARLES MA RSEIL L KS.

271

of the contemplation, the reverence,
and the imitation of all succeeding
generations."

Mr. Marseilles next set out in quest
of the origin of the little prayer.
The very earliest publication in print
available of it was found in the old
' ' New England Primer, ' ' the first
edition of which was printed about
the year 1691, — more than two hun-
dred years ago.

"Now I laj' me down to sleep" is
attributed by the Rev. Thomas Has-
tings to Dr. Isaac Watts ; by Mr.
Bartlett to the ' ' New England Prim-
er," w^hich assigns it to Mr. Rogers,
the martyr; but American Notes cDid
Queries (May and October, 1889),
vol. 3, page 249, goes back to it as
found in another form in the " En-
chridi on Papae Leonis," MDCEX,
quoted in Ady's "Candle in the
Dark" (1655), giving these lines in
English, —

" Matthew, Mark, IvUke, and John,
Bless the bed that I lye on ;
And blessed guardian angel keep
Me safe from danger while I sleep.

" I lay me down to rest me,
And pray the Lord to bless me, —
If I should sleep no more to wake,
I pray the Lord ray soul to take."

Ai)ierican Notes and Queries speaks
of it as called the "White Pater-
noster," and says, "One form or
another of it is found in nearly every
language, like many other good and
familiar thoughts."

Mr. Marseilles also sought to ascer-
tain which was the correct rendering
of the second line, whether "I praj^
the Lord," or "I pray Thee, Lord."
Opinions differed. Phillips Brooks
always thought the line was, " I pra}-
the Lord my soul to keep." The
American Notes and Queries took up
the discussion, and found in " Bart-

lett's Quotations," fifth edition, the
verse rendered as follows :

" Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep ;
If I should die before I wake,
1 pray the Lord my soul to take."

But iVotes and Queries pronounced
Bartlett incorrect in his version of
the lines, though nine persons out of
ten would write them as he has

Hon. Jacob H. Gallinger, United States Senator.

quoted them. It is asserted that the
correct rendering is the following :

" Now I lay me down to sleep ;
I pray, Thee, Lord, my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray. Thee, Lord, my soul lo take."

The consensus of opinion appeared
to unite on Dr. Isaac Watts, the
greatest hymnist who ever wrote in
the English language, as the author
of the verse. He was born at South-
ington, England, in 1674, and in
1696 became tutor to Sir John Har-
topp's children at Newington. It
was for the instruction of his young

272

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

charges that he wrote, "How doth
the little busy bee," "Let dogs de-
light to bark and bight," " Hush my
child, lie still and slumber," "Ye
hearts with youthful vigor warm,"
etc. The book in which the little

The Late Hon. John P. Hale, United States Senator.

prayer is credited to Dr. Watts is
"The Mother's Nursery Songs," by
Thomas Hastings, but the "New
England Primer" ascribes them to
John Rogers, the martyr, who, when
burned at the stake by "Bloody
Mary," in 1565, left a wife and
eleven children, including a babe.
But Mr. Marseilles says that the lit-
tle prayer has been spoken around
the world, and has strengthened the
faith and trust and courage of child-
hood and kept it near the Heavenly
Father. Those who are taught it
never forget it, though there are few
who would not deem it too simple
and childish to be used as a prayer in
maturer years, but John Quincy

Adams, now " one of the simple great
ones gone," found that it expressed
his reverence and his trust as no
composition of his own could have
done. Watts's service to the Chris-
tian world is incalculable.

Reference is made to this compara-
tively trivial incident only to show
with what tenacity Mr. Marseilles
follows every incident of historic in-
terest, with what unflagging zeal he
has devoted himself to the details of
biography.

The same punctiliousness charac-
terizes all his efforts, and if the re-
sults of his investigations w^ere given
to the world in full, they would con-
stitute many volumes, not only of en-
tertainment, but of solid edification
and instruction. It is not impossible
that he will be persuaded, during the
declining years of his life (he is still
a young man, just beyond a half-cen-
tury old), to publish an autobiogra-
phy with annotations, quotations, and
notes. Such a work w^ould be wide-
ly appreciated and constitute a val-
uable addition, especially to the his-
tory of politics and of literature.

Religious questions have always
had a great attraction for Mr. Mar-
seilles, and he has given them much
thought, some of which might be
termed speculative. To solve some
problems that seemed too deep for
him, he has sought the counsel, by
correspondence, of some of the most
learned professional authorities on a
variety of religious topics. One of
these, a venerable doctor of divinity,
in Philadelphia, to whom Mr. Mar-
seilles addressed several communica-
tions, pleasantly wrote him, — "You
have a faculty for asking hard ques-
tions."

Mr. Marseilles has many favorite

CHARL ES MARSEIL I. IIS.

273

poems, so many, indeed, that to men-
tion any one in particular would be
to do him injustice. It seemed to
me, as I talked with him of his dear,
old-time friend, James T. Fields, that
the touching little poem written by
him is sacredl}' cherished in memory.
It graphically and touchingh' pic-
tures a little child's intuition of the
omnipresence of God :

" We were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep ;
It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.

'T is a fearful thing in winter

To be shatter'd in the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet

Thunder, ' Cut away the mast.'

" So we shudder'd there in silence,
For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers talked with Death.

" As thus we sat in darkness,

Kach one busy with his prayers,

'We are lost! ' the captain shouted.

As he staggered down the stairs.

" But his little daughter whispered.
As she took his icj' hand,
'/y«7 God upon the ocean
fusl the same as o/i the land ? '

" Then we kissed the little maiden,
And we spoke in better cheer,
And we anchor'd in the harbor,

When the morn was shining clear."

Amongst his theological corre-
spondence, which is very learned, is
a letter from the late Rev. A. A.
Miner, in which he says, —

"Space, as you rightly say, is infinite. It is
uncreated and absolute. The laws of the
human mind compel belief in that infinity.
To suppose a limit involves an absurdity ; for
then there would be a this side and the other
side ; but the other side is space beyond the
supposed limit.

"Now admitting a God who created all
things, scattered as they are through all space,
and of which God is the upholder, God himself
mu.st be imminent in all things, and hence
everywhere present. 1 do not present this as
a solution of the problem, simply as a state-
ment of it.

" I daily realize how little man can know.
Though science has grown proud and we have
come to know much about many things, abso-
lutely there is nothing that we know all about.
I'A-er}- fact, iKJwever common, strikes its roots
into unfathomable depths. How does the lily
evolve such whiteness from the blackness of
the earth, or exhale such fragrance from the
offensiveness of the earth ? The wisest phi-
losopher knows no more than the new-born
babe."

The first time that I saw Charles
Marseilles was at the summer resi-
dence of the late United States Sena-
tor Edward H. Rollins. Mr. Rollins
and I sat together on the front piazza,
when unexpectedl}^ there appeared
approaching the house on foot along
the driveway, a gentleman of fasci-
nating and impressive bearing. I

Hon, Thomas B. Reed.

/'tc/'lt's/ii'tt l>y ficrmission of Charli's Parker, I'ltotog-

raplicr, W'lisliingtoii, /'. (".

knew in a moment that he was no
common individual. Mr. Rollins
whispered, " Charles MarsciUcs.'' I
asked the question in my mind then,
as I have since heard it asked many
times, " Who is Charles Marseilles^ "

274

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

He is worthy of a better answer
than I have been able to give. I re-
member him distinctly as I then met
him, perhaps twenty years ago. He
was attired in a handsome suit of
pure white, spotless as his character.
He chatted of prominent men, of
popular living issues. He spoke of
Roscoe Conkling, with the easy
familiarity and accuracy of informa-
tion of a personal friend enjoying his

The Late Hon. Edward H. Rollins, United States Senator.

confidence, and he touched upon the
attitude of various leading politicians,
his information being especially fresh
and authentic. It was evident that
Senator Rollins held him in extraor-
dinary respect and regard, and I
immediately conceived a great liking
for him. Nobody who knows him
will wonder at it, nor question the
honesty of my motive in this gratui-
tous, hasty, and imperfect sketch of
one whom I am proud to call my
friend. It is with trepidation that I

have written of one who himself can
write so much better, whose experi-
ence has been so much wider, whose
acquaintance covers so broad a time
and territory, and the tendrils of
whose love are woven in the fibers
of so many hearts.

On October 5, twenty-eight years
ago, he and his estimable wife were
married. In a letter to the writer,
from Mrs. Marseilles, on the occasion
of the recent anniversary, she ex-
pressed this beautiful sentiment, and
thus unconsciously told the chief
charm of their attractive home :

" I may say that all through our
lives has run the golden thread of
love. I think 'tis Thackeray who
says he can understand how young
persons love, but when he meets this
love continued through middle and
on even to old age, he finds no
sweeter human picture. Indeed, we
believe with Drummond that love is
the greatest thing in the world.
A friend of ours came in one evening
after Drummond began to impress
people, and said, ' What 's the great-
est thing in the world ? ' . Somebody
answered, ' Money ! ' I said, ' Love ! '
What do we get better than loving
and being loved ? ' '

Sitting at their hearthstone only
the other day, amidst shelves bend-
ing with the accumulated lore of
years, grouped around me the life-
like portraits of Washington, lyin-
coln, Arthur, Gladstone, Webster,
Reed, Bismarck, and a .score of
others, a galaxy of illustrious stars,
I felt the impulse for good that actu-
ates that peaceful hou.sehold. I was
literally embanked in books. The
air was fragrant with the poesy of
Shakespeare, Cioethe, Milton, Dante,
Schiller, Whittier, Longfellow,

CHARLES MARSEILLES.

Holmes, Tennyson, and a hundred
other sweet poets, and I came away
almost with the inspiration of having
spent a few hours in the very society
of Shakespeare, Bacon, Macaulay,
Carlyle, (iibbon, Bancroft, Cervantes,
Hugo, Richter, DeQuincey, vScott,
Dickens, Lj'tton, Dumas, Emerson,
Irving, Hawthorne, and all that
"marvelous constellation, brighter
from moment to moment, radiant as

it has been frequently tendered, sin-
cerely, earnestly, and even solici-
tously. Pericles swayed the destiny
of Athens for more than forty years,
yet was only a public man, not an
officer. Alexander Hamilton never
lost the leadership of his party, even
when he retired from public life.

Considering his achievements, his
wonderful industry, his comprehen-
sive reading, his deep research, love

Charles Marseilles at Home.

a tiara of celestial diamonds."

Mr. Marseilles's " Story of Thirty
Years," if he can be induced to tell
it, will cover a big epoch in the
world's history, — years of great in-
dustry and research, of almost tire-
less activity in public affairs, and of
stupendous advancement and suc-
cess. His influence has been widely
sought for, and has been freely given
whenever a good or great or just
cause was to be served. He never
sought distinction for himself, though

of literature, analysis of character,
appreciation of the noble, the pure,
and the good, Charles Marseilles is a
conspicuous and captivating charac-
ter. He is, notwithstanding his
native modesty, a prominent and
very interesting figure in the front
rank of New Hampshire's leading
men.

Greatness, whether in actual, prac-
tical results, or in the realms of
exalted thought, is surely discovered.
Great lights are not hidden beneath

276

LAKE A SO CAM.

a bushel. The secret of capabiHty
is bound to come to the surface,
and be brought into requisition.
Some unselfish, discerning soul, like
Charles Marseilles, is made the con-
fidant of nature, standing sponsor for
unconscious genius, and fairly revel-
ing in the uplifting and ennobling of
his fellow-men. It is companionship,
not servility. He belongs to God's
select family of sons, spiritual kin-
dred, of whom Emerson wrote, scat-
tered wide through earth, yet each
weaving the sublime proportions of
a true monarch's crown. He finds

kinship with authors, artists, sculp-
tors, orators, diplomatists, states-
men, — with the world's leading
minds in various directions, — and,
in power of assimilation and appre-
ciation of their individual work and
worth, superior to any one, equal to
all ; a diligent and devoted cham-
pion, fond of the theatre of human
life, and swayed with joy and grief
at the shifting scenes of mortal exist-
ence. In a materialistic age, he is a
herald of joy, bearing aloft a beacon
that the ideals of faith, of duty, and
of inspiration are living forces still.

I.AKE ASQUAM.

By Atmic Rosters Noyes.

O loveliest lake, Asquam,
Embosomed among the hills

In beant}' serene.

Thou wild, woodland queen,
And fed bv the mountain rills !

Thy waters are placid and clear.
Reflecting heaven's own blue.
Thy forests are deep,
Where the shadows creep,
Eike giants, the long day through.

LAKE ASOUAM.

As seutiuel-guard, afar,
vStauds cloud-kissed Chocorua 1
While the lesser heights,
Like the olden knights,
To my queen their homage pay.

Sometimes, as the twilight comes,
And the wild bird's note is still.
Methiuks that I hear,
Now far, and now near.
Weird music from Sunset Hill !

Asquam Lake from Shepard Hill.

And the plumes of the Whittier pine
A requiem seem to sing ;

That in cadence sweet,

And in rh^'thm meet,
The soft-winged zephyrs bring.

O loveliest lake, Asquam,
Embosomed among the hills,

Thy beauty serene,

Thou wild woodland queen.
My spirit with rapture fills !

GLIMPSEvS OF HOLDERNEvSS.

By Jilcaiior y. Clark.

OW shall one write of
Holdeniess, there are
so many things to tell
of its natural beauty
and the quaint features
of its former days? Nature ma}' be
maligned, but she remains perenni-
all}' young to refute the puny
charges. With people it is different ;
there is always the sense of imperti-
nence in characterizing by a few pen-
strokes a sturdy life that has passed.
I hesitate in telling of the Liver-
mores, the Shepards, the Worthens,
the Coxes, those early comers in the
town. Why should I comment on
their lives ?

Holderness lies in the central part
of New Hampshire, adjoining the
towns of Plymouth, Campton, and
Ashland, which was originally a
part of the old town. Certainl}- Na-
ture has fashioned few places more
beautiful, with its green meadows in
the west, overlooked by the bluffs on
which stand most of the farm-houses
of that part. Away from the Pemi-
gewasset to the east, the hills and
mountains rise, shutting in cozy
farms or sheltering them upon their
warm southern exposure, and further
on lie the Asquam lakes. On Shep-
ard hill and Mount Eivermore what
beauty meets the eye ! In the dis-
tance, the White and Ossipee moun-
tains ; nearer, the neighboring hills
dotted with homesteads ; and below,
the lake, sparkling and blue in the

sun, cold and leaden in his absence,
and beyond the realm of the real in
the moonlight. How j^eaceful and
beautiful and natural it all is ! How
one forgets the hurr}- and hurt of life
and dreams away the summer days,
gaining new strength from this lavish
generosity of Nature for the inevi-
table "moving on."

Of Mount Prospect, farther to the
north, a well-known son of New
Hampshire has said, — "If it stood
where some of those renowned Scotch
Bens do, and had undergone the
poetic handling of their Burnses and
Scotts, people would cross the ocean
to see the sights from its top."

In 1 76 1, "New Holderness" was
granted to Samuel Livermore and
others, adherents of the Church of
England, six of whom were Shep-
ards, seven Coxes. The real settle-
ment of the town was made from
1774 to 1786, when it held nearly
three hundred people, at least one
third of the present population.

The great man of the town was
Chief - Justice Samuel Livermore,
whose estate, it is said, comprised
two thirds of the township. He built
his mansion on the bluff opposite Ply-
mouth, overlooking the Pemigewas-
set, and became a sort of over-lord to
his willing vassals, the'sturdy Scotch-
Irish settlers, who followed him from
Londonderry. ''_ 'Before the Revolu-
tion, Mr. Livermore had been the
king's attorney-general, but during

28o

GLIMPSES OF HOLDERNESS.

Bird's-eye View from Bnynton Hill.

the war he found the retirement to
his estate in Holderness an agreeable
change. The words of his son per-
haps illustrate not only Mr. Liver-
more 's attitude during the war but
that of many lawyers who had been
employed by the crown. Arthur Liv-
ermore writes : "In a ver}- critical
part of the Revolution, my father did
not take an active part in public life,
for he was not a man who made terms
to secure office."

On arriving in Holderness he built
a sawmill at the mouth of Mill brook,
and for nearly three j^ears, till after
the svirrender of Burgoyne, actually
tended it himself, tradition says
wearing the same coat at home and
abroad.

At the close of the war he was
called upon to reenter political life,
holding at different times the offices
of representative to his state legisla-
ture, drafter of the state constitution,
chief justice of the superior court,
representative in congress, and
United States senator.

He married Jane Browne, the
daughter of the Rev. Arthur Browne,
of Portsmouth, mentioned in Long-
fellow's "Lady Wentworth." To-
day there is a lineal descendant, the
Rev. Arthur Brown Livermore, of
Delhi, N. Y. It seems that Judge
Livermore 's connection with the Es-
tablished Church estranged him from
some of his relatives. His friend,
Mr. Porter, whose accomplished wife
was the confidante of Mrs. Livermore,
followed him from Londonderry to
New Holderness, and became the
first settled lawyer in the adjoining
town of Plymouth. Mr. Livermore 's
home in later years was that of a cul-
tured gentleman, and with his towns-
men, in the words of a centenarian
who remembered him, "his say-so
was the law." He and his family
used to make the journey to Wash-
ington in his coach, driven by his
friend and retainer, Major William
Shepard.

Wyseman Claggett, "Attorney
General of this colony," 1776, says

GLIMPSES OF HOLDRRNESS.

281

of Mr. Liverinore, — "He was be-
yond question the great man of New
Hampshire in his time."

His son, Arthur Livermore, suc-
ceeded him "to the ermine," and
had a long and successful career,
being associate, then chief justice
of the superior court. He, too, was
a man of marked abihty, but, accord-
ing to the traditions of the town, of
eccentric character and independent
spirit. To him, also, his fellow-
townsmen yielded a willing vassal-
age. When on one of his circuits he
-saw in her cradle Louisa Bliss, of
Haverhill, he told the mother that
here was his future wife ; and true to
his word, he married her when a
young lady. An amusing story is
told, w^hich, if authentic, shows him a
veritable "Sir Roger de Coverley."
In attending church, he observed one
person of the congregation did not
kneel. The judge tapped the offend-
er with his stick, with the command,
"Kneel! "

One of his sons, in waiting home,
w^as surprised to receive a letter in
return, saying, "Come home and
read your letter ; I can 't. "

There are many such incidents re-
late d in the country
homes, after the lapse of
over forty years since his
death, which perhaps
show more plainly than
any comments the hold
he had in the hearts of
his contemporaries and
their children. Upon the
tablet covering his grave
in the Trinity churchyard
are the appropriate words,
"Give alms of thy goods,
and never turn thy hand
from any poor man."

Of an evening, as one passes quiet
Trinity, amid its pines, to the "hol-
low" sheltering Mill brook, one
could almost fancy it fitting to meet
the judge with " Old Beautiful" and
the yellow -wheeled chaise. I won-
der if Louise Chandler Moulton is
far wrong, —

" I' d lean from out the choir of heaven
To hear the red cock crow."

An old man young with the judge,
now sleeping near him, once said on
his return home from a visit in town,
" I used to think I 'd be satisfied if I
could only get home and see Miry
feed the chickens ! " I wonder how
it is!

As before stated, the grant of Hol-
derness was made to adherents of the
Episcopal church, and naturally the
settlers early thought of a house of
worship. Of course, Mr. Samuel
Livermore was the prime mover in
the matter, himself reading service
before the coming of Priest Fowle.

A warrant of a town - meeting in
New Holderness in 178S contains the
following : ' ' To see if the town will
vote to have Mr. Robert Fowle for
their Minister and vote what salary
they will settle on Mr. Fowle yearly."

Mill Brook Road.

282

GLIMPSES Of HOLDERNESS.

The following is taken from the
parish record, 1790:

'']'otrd. That Capt. Smith, Sq. S. G. Liver-
more, Maj. Richard Shepard, Lieut. vSam.
Currj-, and Sam. Shepard Be a Committee To
Determine where said Building Shall Be
Erected and to Take Care of Said Building
Throughout.

"J'o/c'd, To Raise the Sum of Seventy-five

Livermore Falls.

Pounds in Boards at 24 s. per Thousand Deliv-
ered on the Spot, allowing Each Man to turn
in an Equal Proportion of Boards, Timber.
Nails, Rum, Shingles, Clapboards, and all
things necessary to carry on Said Building
which should be to the acceptance of the Com-
mittee."

And so, about the year 1790, came
into existence Trinity church, one of
the oldest in the state. It is in good
preservation, having been repaired
when falling into decay through the
efforts of the late Dr. Balch. Until
the new chapel in connection with
the Holderness School was finished,
services were regularly held in it.
Now it is used for the burial ser\'ice
only. The "Church House," as it
is called, is an oblong brown struc-
ture more like the school buildings
one sees on country roads than the
village "meeting-house." Passing
through its porch, the interior is little
changed from 100 years ago. Square

pews with doors — the wood of pine so
dark with age it seems almost of ma-
hogany — surround the sides of the
room. These are raised above the
floor pews, which are arranged in the
usual manner. A tall pulpit at the
front completes the furnishings. The
following quotation from a descend-
ant of Priest Fowle gives
a little idea of its comfort
in winter, — ' ' They all
went to the upper church
(Trinity). There was no
fire. The women all car-
ried foot-stoves. Father
suffered very much ; he
was ver}' frail and trem-
bled so he could hardly
stand." In summer, I
can speak from experi-
ence, that it is certainly
hot enough to compen-
sate.
Mr. P'owle was a friend of Mr. Liv-
ermore 's and followed him to the
new country. He seems to have
been a man of marked and strong
character. It is said that he was
noted for choosing subjects appli-
cable to the time. I quote from
"Reminiscences of Holderness," —
"One time the meeting was in a
dwelling-house, the snow was piled
to the windows and men could come
only on snow-shoes. There were very
few present. He chose for his text,
— ' Fear not, little flock ; it is my
Father's good pleastire to give you
the kingdom.' There was not a dry
eye in the room." Priest Fowle had
a large dog which accompanied him
to service. He always lay quiet ex-
cept on the arrival of late comers,
whom he greeted with a loud bark.
It is needless to say, few cared to in-
ctir his greeting. What a conveu-

GLIMPSES Of HOLDERNESS.

2H3

ience a line of theological dogs like
him might have proved !

How easy it is to picture a long-
ago Sabbath in the " Church House."
There at the left, well up by the pul-
pit were the judge and his lady, the
centre of interest to the farmers and
their good wi\-es. Possibly Harriet
Livermore may have been there in
one of her fitful home-comings,

" The sharp heat-lightnings of her face
Presaging ill to him whom Fate
Condemned to share her love or hate."

There were the Shepards, the Elli-
sons, the Worthens, the Coxes, the
Calleys, and last, Priest Fowle in his
white gown, hushing the congrega-
tion with his "Dearly beloved." I
suppose hearts ached and sought
heavenly comfort as the words of the
old, old service went on ; or thoughts
wandered, as the birds twittered in
the trees above the graves outside,
and death looked far from them in
the rush of living — just as to-day
with us. To-day their graves are
about the quiet house and one reads
on their headstones :

Livermore Graves.

Old Livermore House.

" Blessed are the faithful dead ; "

"The character of the just will live in the
memory of the just ; "

" Sleep on, my son.
And take thy rest.
God called thee home
When he thought best."

Here and there through the town,
to those who know them, are scat-
tered the reminders of this older life ;
in a pasture a slight depression and a
few bricks mark the site of a house
whose owner no one remembers — the
only tangible evi-
dence of the busy
home of a hundred
years ago ; on the
inter\-ale a spring
of coldest water, —
the "Governor's
spring," because at
one time Governor
Went worth, prob-
ably on a visit to
Judge Livermore,
drank from it ; be-
side a grassy road
an unmarked grave,
under a maple of
old growth, un-

284

GLIMPSES Oh HOLDERNESS.

A-'<

Old Trinity Church.

kuowni to any save the oldest inhab-
itants. From a life-long resident of
the town I learned the story of its
occupants, a story of the hard con-
ditions which oftentimes awaited the
settlers. This humble tragedy of
eighty years ago came in what was
known as the "hard year," when
every month there was a frost, po-
tatoes were no larger than hens'
eggs, and corn brought from Centre
Harbor was sold at %^^ a bushel.
A family by the name of Jones,

himself to death," they
said.

And yet, in the span of
one life that began in 1776
and closed in 1881, what
seems matters of history
was the living reality.
Mrs. Hannah Stanton Cox
was born June 25, a loyal
subject of the king, and

. nine days later a citizen of

the new republic, though
possibly an uninterested
one. With her parents,
Hannah Stanton removed from Pres-
ton, Conn., to New Holderness, her
home for eighty-two years. At twen-
ty-two she became the wife of Rob-
ert Cox, living in the west part of
the town. Until the last month of
her life, her mind was unclouded,
and she remembered recent as well
as remote events.

One story of especial interest was
her recollection of the ' ' dark day ' ' of
1780, when she was about four years
old. She remembered beings out

consisting of a young husband, wife, picking greens with her mother when

and small son, had made their home
upon one of the spurs of Mount Pros-
pect. The long winter exhausted
their scant provisions, the crops
failed that summer, there was little
left to nourish the delicate 3'oung
mother. Their suffering was re-
vealed to their neighbor, Mrs.
Wortheu, by the little boy, who used
to run straight to her cupboard and
eat like a starved animal. I suppose
neighborl}' kindness helped them on
till the birth of a second child,
when the mother and infant both
passed away, and the husljand laid
them in one grave beneath the maple.
One week later neighbors placed him
beside his wife. "He had mourned

the darkness began to fall, how the
cows came home, and the fowls went
to roost. Her memory of political
events was clear, for she had been a
woman interested in the affairs of her
countrv, as well as her home.

Old Trinity Church — Interior.

(,/JMPSES 01' HOLDERNESS.

285

The one hundredth anniversary of
her birth was celebrated in Trinity
church. It was significant in that it
marked the nation's centennial, as
well as her own. It fell on Sunday,
and the celebration was in an edifice

right, dignified old lady, whose only
appearance of age was a slight deaf-
ness, the}- .sometimes found it a bit
trying. Not always so, for some of
her warmest friends were these
chance acquaintances.

Governor's Spring.

connected with man}- events in her
past life.

She was a beautiful old lady with
soft, white hair, bright blue eyes,
and always a tinge of pink in her
cheeks. She dressed in plain black
gowns with a crape shawl folded
across her shoulders, and a white cap
with full border.

Man}' summer people called to see
her, always receiving gracious audi-
ence. Sometimes, I think, the}- came
to gaze upon one so old, as upon a
mummy, or Mt. Prospect, or any of
the natural curiosities, the prey of
the "city boarder." When they were
ushered into the presence of an up-

The Holderness of to-day is physi-
cally unchanged, small homesteads
on meadows or hillside, some of
them abandoned, others fast falling
to decay, and yet others with an air
of comfort and plenty. It seems to
me some of the determination of those
first settlers is lacking in the people
now. Perhaps a century of wresting
a living from a hard soil has left its
mark in a certain content with the
bare sustenance of life. Already the
coming of the summer resident has
added grace to their living by mak-
ing it possible through the increased
material prosperity of the town.

Every year the fame of Holderness

286

GLIMPSES OF HOLDERNESS.

'M.-ii!f- \.

wp:^^^

'in 1 fj

fel

-, 1

Holderness School Campus.

as a summer resort is growing. The
Asquam and Mt. L,ivermore House
are annually filled, and cottages are
constantly springing up on Shepard
hill and about the lake. Several
5'ears Whittier made the Asquam his
abiding place. Of its wonderful out-
look he wrote, —

" Before me, stretched for glistening miles,
L,ay mountain girdled Squam ;
Like green-winged birds, the leafy isles
Upon its bosom swam.

*******

There towered Chocorua's peak ; and west,

Moosehillock's woods were seen,

With many a nameless slide-scarred crest

And pine-dark gorge between.

Beyond them, like a sun-rimmed cloud.

The great Notch mountains shone.

Watched over by the solemn-browed

And awful face of stone ! "

One of the first summer recreation
schools for boys was established on
an island of Squam, perhaps twenty
years ago, by Mr. Balch. There are
now about Squam three such camps,
Dr. Talbot's, Mr. DeMerritt's, and
the Oroton school. It is an ideal va-
cation for a boy, fishing, boating,
helping about the camp, congenial
companions, under the supervision of
the master and his assistants, who

are usually college boys with their
greater, if possible, enthusiasm for
athletics. Before breaking camp,
oftentimes, a trip is made on foot
through the White Mountains, a
donkey or ox team accompanying
them to carr\- the baggage, camping
where the fancy seizes them. What
boy who has experienced it will ever
forget ?

In years past there has also been a
similar school for girls, conducted by
a Sister in connection with a school
in Pennsylvania.

Beside these play schools there is

*v'<^-

Holderness School Chapel.

MAR )

287

the real article, Holderness vSchool
for boys, on the site of the old Liver-
more mansion, its first home. The
Rev. Loren Webster is its principal
and the rector of Hoh' Cross chapel
near by. Boys from Texas, from
Maine, from Florida, from Honolulu,
pla}' upon the campus where long
ago Governor Wentworth's coach

with its footmen and outriders aston-
ished the passing yeoman. The
watchword of the school is "manli-
ness." May something of the sturdy
courage and life of the past uncon-
sciously imbibed go out to help our
country anew in these young lives.
"The character of the just will live
in the memory of the just."

MARY.

By Mary H. Wltcclc,

Oh, happy were the summer days

When Mary used to come
To gladden with her joyful ways

The quiet of our home.

Her cheeks were fair and like the tints
The peach-blooms show in spring.

Her soft, thick hair had sunny glints
Bright as the brown-thrush's wing.

Like sunshine was her ready smile.
Her song was like the bird's.

Truth witnessed in her clear eyes while
We listened to her words.

She loved the woods, the birds, and bees,
And blossoms wet with dew.

She loved us even more than these,
And we loved Mary, toe.

The birds still sing each summer morn,

The sun shines as before.
But something from its light is gone

Since Marv comes no more.

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

By Adjittaiit LutJier Tracy Toiunscud.

CHAPTER XW— Concluded.

surrender of \Mcksburg
glad

r the headquarters of
General Banks on the
morning of July 7, de-
spatches from General
Grant announced the
Soon the
news was communicated to
every regiment and detachment in
our army. A continuous, "surg-
ing volume of cheers and exulta-
tions filled the air all along the
lines around Port Hudson, from the
one wing to the other, from the river
below to the river above." And the
paeans of loyal joy and gladness
rolled even over the Confederate en-
trenchments and warned those brave
defenders that their watchful and
tireless foes certainly had received
glorious news." A Massachusetts
colonel thrust a stick through his
official bulletin and by way of ex-
planation sent it over the lines to the
wondering Confederates.

Upon receipt of General Grant's
despatch, General Banks issued a
general order, directing a salute of
100 shotted guns to be fired from
each battery, ordering also all regi-
mental bauds to assemble at his
headquarters. At noon the stirring
strains of our national melodies, from
about two hundred musicians, ac-
companied with the sub-bass of the
thundering of hundreds of cannon,
filled the air.

Notwithstanding the solid shot and
shell that were falling among them,
the Confederates hailed our men, ask-
ing the cause of "the jubilation."
They were told that Grant had cap-
tured Vicksburg. "That's another
damn Yankee lie," was the answer.

The reports, however, were carried
to General Gardner, who the next
day, July S, sent a flag of truce to
ascertain if the reports he had heard
were true. General Banks then for-
warded to Gardner a cop}- of the
despatch he had received from Gen-
eral Grant.

On receipt of this, Gardner sent
another flag of truce, a.sking upon
what terms General Banks would
receive his surrender. During the
continuance of the truce the men on
either side came out of their rifle-pits
or "gopher holes," as they were
called, laughed and joked as ami-
cably as if they had been ' ' engaged
in some friendly pastime, instead of
in the fearful game of deadly war-
fare." The terms of surrender were
agreed upon and all ho.stilities ceased.

The correspondence between Gen-
erals Banks and Gardner may be of
interest to the reader :

Headquarters Port Hudson, La.

July 7, 1863.

General : — Having received information

from your troops that Vicksburg has been

surrendered, I make this comnmnication to

ask you to give nie your official notice whether

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

2S9

this is true or not; and if t>ue, I ask for a
cessation of hostilities with a view to the con-
sideration of terms for surrendering this po-
sition.

I am, General, verj' respectfully your obe-
dient servant,

Frank Gardner,

Major - General Connnanding Confederate

State Forces.
To Major-General Banks,
Co)n)iia>idi)ig C'nited States Forces Near Port

Hudson.

Headquarters Department of the Gulf,
Before Port Hudson, July 8, 1863.
General: — In reply to your communication
dated the seventh instant, by flag of truce re-
ceived a few moments since, I have the honor
, to inform you that I received yesterday morn-
ing, July 7, at 10:45 o'clock, by the gunboat
General Price, an official despatch from Major-
General Ulj'sses S. Grant, United States Army,
whereof the following is a true extract :

Headquarters Department of the Ten-
nessee,

Near Vicksburg, July 4, 1863.

Major-General N. P. Banks,

Coniniandinff Department of tlic Gulf.
General : — The garrison of Vicksburg sur-
rendered this morning. The number of pris-
oners as given by the officers is 27,000 ; field
artillery, 128 pieced ; and a large number of
siege guns, probably not less than eighty.
Your obedient servant,

U. S. Grant,
Major-General.

I regret to saj' that under present circum-
stances I cannot consistently with my duty
consent to a cessation of hostilities for the pur-
pose you indicate.
Very respectfully your obedient servant,

N. P. Banes,
Majo) -Genei at Commanding.
To Major-General Frank Gardner,
Commanding Confederate States Forces, Port
Hudson.

Port Hudson,
July 8, 1863.

General : — I have the honor to acknowledge
the receipt of your communication of this date,
giving a copy of an official communication
from Major-General U. S. Grant, United States
Army, announcing t/ie surrender of the gar-
rison oj' l'ict;sburg.

Having defended this positio>i as long as I
deem, my diity requires I am zvilling to sur-
render to you, and will appoint a commission
of three officers to meet a similiar commission
appointed by yourself, at nine o\ioc/z this

morning, for the purpose of agreeing upon
and drawing up the terms of surrender; and
for that purpose I ask for a cessation of hostili-
ties.

Will you please designate a point, outside of
my breastworks, where the meeting shall be
held for this purpose ?

I am, very respectfully, your obedient ser-
vant,

F'rank Gardner,
Commanding Confederate States Forces.
To Major-General Banks,

Commanding United States Forces.

Headquarters United States Forces,
Before Port Hudson, July 8, 1863.

General: — I have the honor to acknowl-
edge the receipt of your communication of this
date stating that 5-ou are willing to surrender
the garrison under your command to the forces
under ni}^ command, and that you will appoint
a commission of three officers to meet a similar
commission appointed by me, at nine o'clock
this morning, for the purpose of agreeing upon
and drawing up the terms of surrender.

In reply I have the honor to state that I have
designated Brigadier-General Charles P. Stone,
Colonel Henrj' W. Birge, and Lieutenant-Colo-
nel Richard B. Irwin as the officers to meet the
commission appointed bj^ you.

They will meet your officers at the hour des-
ignated at a point where the flag of truce was
received this morning. I will direct that active
hostilities shall instantly cease on my part
until further notice for the purpose stated.

Very respectfully your obedient ser\-ant,

N. P. Banks,
Major-General Commanding.
To Major-General Frank Gardner,

Commanding Confederate States Forces,
Port Hudson.

At the early dawu of July 9, the
whole Nineteenth Arni}^ Corps was
astir. There were some expressions
of joy, though it cannot be said that
our men were hilarious or even jubi-
lant. Our sufferings and losses had
been too great for that kind of dem-
onstration.

The bands were not silent, how-
ever, and the " Star Spangled
Banner," "Yankee Doodle," and
' ' Dixie ' ' came borne upon the morn-
ing air — never to our ears sounding
sweeter.

290

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

At seveu o'clock, General An-
drews, chief of staff of General
Banks, made his entrance into the
Confederate fortifications. Colonel
Birge with his brave storming col-
umn, whose ser\'ices happily had
been dispensed with, was allowed
the ' ' post of honor ' ' and led all the
other troops. Next came the heroic
Eighth New Hampshire, assigned to
that position in recognition of its gal-
lant services during the entire cam-
paign and especially during the
siege. This regiment was further
complimented, after the surrender,
by being assigned to a camping-
ground on a high bluff midway the
river front and directly under the
" Stars and Stripes " that it had suf-
fered so much to defend.

Having obtained leave of absence
from the Sixteenth that morning, its
historian entered Port Hudson among
the first of our troops that led the
way. Everything bore evidence of
the havoc our artillery had wrought
in that "stronghold" of the ene-
my.

Scarcely a building of any kind,
whether dwelling-hovise, storehouse,
or workshop, could be seen that had
not been leveled or riddled b}' the
shot and shell of our artillerists,
whom the Confederates themselves
acknowledged to be " unequaled in
their deadly aim" and their "skill
in handling their guns."

On every hand there were to be
seen or smelt carcasses of horses and
mules which had been killed by
sharpshooters and shells. The
graves, too, of the dead Confederates
were many. Some of their number
had been buried in single graves,
though the new- turned earth showed
plainly enough that "heaps of their

slain were crowded into platooned
graves" that were left unmarked.

Soon we reached the part of the
enclosure where the Confederates
were drawn up in line, their officers
in front of them, their backs to the
river. General Gardner then ad-
vanced toward General Andrews,
and, in a few words, offered to sur-
render his sword with Port Hudson.
But General Andrews told him, in
appreciation of his bravery, that he
was at libert}^ to retain his sword.

The Federal troops were drawn up
in two lines on the side of the road
opposite the Confederates, our officers
placing themselves in front of their
men.

At 9:30 a. m., after a brief con-
sultation between the Confederate,
General Beals, second in command at
Port Hudson, and General Andrews,
chief of staff under General Banks,
General Beals, turning to the thou-
sands of his command, in clear tones
said, "Attention! (iround, Arms ! "
and " the motley line of the late bel-
ligerents stood defenseless before us."

By many of the Confederates that
command seemed to be obe^-ed reluc-
tantly. And their words betrayed the
same feeling: — "We shall meet you
again ;" "This is not the last of us,"
and a few other similar expressions
escaped their lips as we moved
among them.

And the expression of their faces
and glances from their ej'es also dis-
closed the fact that hatred of the
North had not surrendered its throne
in their hearts, although they now
were prisoners of war.

When the formalities of the sur-
render were over, the flag bearing
the stars and stripes was unfolded to
the breeze from one of the highest

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

291

bluffs facing the river, while a bat-
tery manned by sailors from the man-
of-war Ricliviond thundered its salute,
announcing to all within hearing that
the mighty Mississippi was now free
to the commerce of the nation.

The headquarters and the ammu-
nition that the Sixteenth had been
guarding were not moved into Port
Hudson until July 10. The Six-
teenth, remaining in charge during

the removal, was, consequent!)',
among the last of our troops to pass
within the fortifications.

W'e were assigned to a bluff, a sort
of promontory, next the river on the
north side of the fort, partly shaded
and giving an excellent view of the
river south and of its bend west.

And here ended our active ser\-ice,
and we were given a few days for re-
flection and rest.

CHAPTER XVI.

RETROSPECTIVE.

3HE daj'S that remained
before our departure
north from Port Hud-
son were not joyous,
though our active cam-
paigning was over. We began to
realize more keenly than before the
losses that had come to us. The
faces of comrades who had enlisted
with us, who had stood side b}- side
with us, but who no longer answered
the roll-call, haunted us. Others of
our comrades who still lingered, with
languid and almost beseeching ej-es,
seemed to be asking of every passer-
byj and of the clouds in the sky
b}' day and of the stars by night,
whether the}- could live long enough
to see their homes again. Poor men,
it seemed a pity that that boon could
not be granted.

During those few days of waiting
other reflections came to us, which we
can better formulate and express now
than we could then.

In arranging our official papers for
their final disposition, we found that
we had been attached first and la.st to
the following different divisions and

brigades: From Januar}- 3 to 14, we
were in the third division, first bri-
gade. From January 14 to July 11,
we were in the third division, first
brigade. From Jul}- 11 to July 18,
we were in the third division, second
brigade. After July 18, we were in
the regular army, second brigade,
and there remained until August 20,
the date of our final muster out.

During our term of ser\nce we had
seen far less fighting on the field and
had lost fewer men in battle than
perhaps the majority of the nine
months' regiments. Of this, how-
ever, we are not sure. But even if
this was so, it was no fault of ours.
It was rather one of the incidents be-
longing to military service. We cer-
tainly shrank from no duty, and
never turned our backs upon the
enemy when he was in sight.

We should have been fighting with
General Weitzel in the early Brash-
ear campaign if the muskets issued
to us had been suitable for such ser-
vice. In the first advance on Port
Hudson no regiment was in a more
exposed po.sition than ours. We did

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

not fight theu, simply because no
euemy appeared to contest the field
with us.

At the beginning of the Teche
campaign we were among the ad-
vance troops at Brashear City, and it
was no fault of ours that we did not
move north with General Kmory or
that the enemy did not attack us
when we were left to defend Brashear
City against expected raids.

From that place we were sent to
take and garrison one of the most im-
portant points iu all that section,
Butte a la Rose. We aided the gun-
boats in its reduction, and then took
possession and held it in the face of
Confederates who were constantly
hovering about us.

This was the only duty during our
service that we pleaded to be relieved
from. But even this plea was not
made that we might escape from Con-
federate troops, but from a poisoned
atmosphere, foul water, and certain
death by disease.

We held that place after all the
other troops west of the Mississippi
had been withdrawn, except a few at
Brashear City.

Though our ranks had been de-
pleted, and though there was scarcely
a well man among us, we were at all
times in readiness, and while there
we never asked for reinforcements.
There was not a day while we garri-
soned Butte a la Rose that we were
not ready to fight Taylor's Texan
rangers had they attacked us. And
it was no fault of ours that they did
not do this.

It was no fault of ours that we had
been ordered from Brashear City to
Port Hudson only a short time before
the Confederates captured that place
with all its .stores.

It was no fault of ours that we had
been reduced to a " few skeletons ' '
and were, therefore, at the last mo-
ment ordered out of the rifle-pits be-
fore Port Hudson which we had en-
tered, expecting to fight while a man
of us had strength to load and sight
his musket.

It was no fault of ours that from
June 2 to July lo. Colonel Logan did
not attack our regiment while we
were guarding the ammunition and
headquarters of the commanding gen-
eral. During that time, we were in
line every morning at a few minutes
past three o'clock, prepared to meet a
foe that had claimed he "would do
us all the damage he could."

Whenever and wherever our men
had a chance at the enemy, their skill
and their courage were commended.
On the gunboats at Fort Burton, our
rifles did all that rifles could do, was
the acknowledgment of the naval
ofhcers who commanded that expedi-
tion.

At Donaldsonville, from June 28 to
July 9, our men fought like veterans
and contributed in no small measure
to one of the most desperate and bril-
liant defenses of the war.

And in the fight at Springfield
Landing our men were the only ones
especially commended in the reports
made by vStaff officers to General
Banks.

Throughout the campaign, if the
losses we had suffered by disease
had been incurred on the field, our
record certainly would have seemed
more heroic. But are gunshot
wounds worse than those diseases
that brought to hundreds of our men
certain and often sudden death ?
Such the retrospect as to our regi-
ment.

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

'■93

Bvit in our review we must not be
too circumscribed. Let us, therefore,
take into account for a moment the
entire field on which the Nineteenth
Army Corps had figured. We al-
ready have passed a few criticisms.
But it would be unjust if we failed to
state that the poor campaigning of
our army had been at no time offset
b}' that which was commendable.

The feint, for instance, on Port
Hudson in March and then the sud-
den transference of the army to
Brashear City was a remarkably suc-
cessful piece of military manoeuver-

lUg.

The triumphant movement of our
troops up the Teche country to Alex-
andria, also the march across the
country from that point to the Miss-
issippi river, together with the com-
plete investment of Port Hudson,
and, in the meantime, the holding of
New Orleans as a base of supplies,
taken all together show both compre-
hensive planning and very brilliant
execution. So much truthfully can
be said by way of commendation.

And it would please the historian
if this praise could be continued to
the end of the chapter. But if this
were' done, it would make for a blow
against the design and usefulness of
history. History is of no value as
history unless it is a truthful story,
containing what is unfavorable as
well as that to which is accorded our
praises. Hence we must call atten-
tion to the uncommendable parts of
the record. And we ought to say
that there is almost always an un-
commendable side in all great army
movements. It is clear, upon a mo-
ment's reflection, that the first ad-
vance of ovir army on Port Hudson
accomplished nothing. The plan had

been to reach a point on the night of
March 14, where our artillery could
be used to annoy the eneni}' and di-
vert his attention. But we had not
a single piece of artillery in position
that night except by way of defense,
nor were we near enough to throw a
solitary shell into the enemy's fortifi-
cations. Farragut could have passed
Port Hudson just as well as he did if
our troops had been one hundred
miles away or had been quietly rest-
ing at Baton Rouge.

It was also a great mistake to
move up into the Teche country and
especially on to Alexandria without
positive assurances of cooperation
with General Grant. Without such
cooperation, nothing of importance
could be gained, and assurances of
such cooperation never had been
given bv Grant. And all chance for
cooperation was forfeited by Banks's
delay at Opelousas.

That campaign cost us dearl3% with
nothing to show for it, except, as we
have said before, cotton, sugar, and
molasses.

After having taken possession of
that country, it was a mistake to
leave it so precipitately as we did. It
was essentially a forced and hasty re-
treat with the ordinary losses, when
a retreat was by no means necessary.
We should be less inclined to say
this, were the statement not sup-
ported by one who was on the ground
and who made a thorough study of
that entire campaign. After estimat-
ing the strength of Banks's armv at
the time, and after showing how
easily the country could have been
held and how unnecessary was a re-
treat, Admiral Porter says, "This
would not have been done had the
leader [General Banks] been pos-

294

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

sessed of the qvialificatious of a mili-
tary man."

It was no less a mistake to transfer
the entire army across the country to
Port Hudson, abandoning the Six-
teenth without support at Butte a la
Rose, and without providing for the
protection of Brashear City and New
Orleans.

Had a brigade of our army moved
down through the Teche country, or
had it taken transports down the At-
chafalaya, relieving us on the way,
and protecting Brashear City until
the supplies were shipped to New
Orleans, there would have been saved
to the United States in money value,
many times more than was received
for all the cotton, sugar, and mo-
lasses that had been confiscated.

Aside from the great loss of mili-
tary stores, all the personal baggage
of Grover's, Emory's, and Weitzel's
divisions that had been stored there
was captured, which to our troops
was almost a calamit}'.

All the railroad cars, which easily
could have been sent to New Orleans,
were run by the Confederates into
Berwick Bay and the heavy cannon
were sunk beneath its muddy waters.
This whole business, by somebody's
blundering, was a disgrace to those
who were in command, that scarcely
admits of excuse.

The two assaults on Port Hud-
son in May and June, as we have
seen, were likewise grave mistakes.
Thirty-eight hundred men in those
engagements were lost to us with
nothing gained.

May 19, the Confederate General
Johnston, as the reader recalls, .sent to
(jardner to evacuate Port Hudson.
Had our forces simply withdrawn on
that date, for forty-eight hours, we

could have gained, except the rifles
of the enemj^ everything we did gain
at the time of its surrender, and have
saved all the losses incurred.

But it is replied that if the volun-
tary evacuation had taken place, the
Confederates would have been at lib-
erty to move elsewhere to fight the
Federal forces. But we also could
have moved elsewhere and have been
in better relative position to fight,
had such a move been made. But
aside from this, there is no doubt that
the officers and men captured by
Grant at Vicksburg and those cap-
tured by Banks at Port Hudson,
never kept their paroles and never
were properly exchanged. They
were reorganized and within a few
weeks after their surrender, were fight-
ing in utter disregard of their parole.

It was afterwards learned that the
men at Port Hudson gave to the
paroling officers fictitious names.
Educated men among them pre-
tended not to be able to write, but
made marks against names not their
own. Somehow, the Confederate sol-
diers and officers felt at liberty to en-
gage in all such dishonorable pro-
ceedings.

But better, perhaps, as was re-
marked before, than giving Gardner
a chance to escape would have been,
at least from a military point of view,
the "out-camping " or siege method,
thus saving those bloody and fruitless
assaults.

Our regiment took no part in the
subsequent Red river expedition, and
therefore we ought, perhaps, to pass
it in silence. We venture, however,
a single remark concerning it. That
expedition was urged by General
Halleck, who was not on the ground.
Hence he was unqualified to judge

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

295

properly. It was opposed by Ad-
miral Porter and by some of the
ablest officers to the Department of
the Gulf. The whole country knows
how disastrous to the Federal troops
was that expensive and unfortunate
campaign.

The epitaph we therefore write

over the Department of the Gulf is
this : Sufferings untold ; heroism un-
excelled ; rapid and brilliant move-
ments ; campaigns that lacked wis-
dom ; frequent failure of concerted
action ; government property wasted ;
patriotic and brave men needlessly
slaughtered.

CHAPTER XVII.

RETURN AND MUSTER OUT.

T was August i, 1863,
when our regiment
stood in line for the
last time on vSouthern
soil. The line, how-
ever, was a depleted and pitiful one,
so much so that the historian hesi-
tates to attempt a description of the
men who answered that call. It
seemed almost as if death was there
with the name of every man on his
roll, and that without much delay he
was to call their names one b}^ one,
and thus break up our ranks without
any command from the officers.

What contrasts were suggested !
At Concord, in New York, and early
in the year at Carrolltou, Louisiana,
the adjutant had stood with pride be-
fore a body of as strong and noble
men as ever formed in regimental
line. But August i, after fewer than
twelve months had passed, the regi-
ment was scarcely more in number
than one of the original comjiauies
had been.

As the adjutant looked upon those
haggard and pale faces and bent
forms, and as he heard those husky
and hollow voices answering to the
roll-call, he turned from the scene
with emotions that can find no expres-
sion in any tongue spoken by men.

The historian at this point, for a
few moments, will allow others to
speak. Says Captain Bosworth :
' ' We were waiting orders to take the
steamer and report at Concord, New
Hampshire. One of the saddest
sights that I ever witnessed, two or
three days before w^e left, was to
look down the company's streets and
see the many sick men, hardh' one of
whom was fit for duty, lying on the
ground ; manj^ of them not able to
move about, but longing to start for
home. Many of those men who left
New Hampshire nine months before,
full of the pride and strength of man-
hood and youthful ardor, were so de-
bilitated that it was apparent they
could never reach their homes.

' ' When the order came on the last
day of July, and the officers' call was
sounded from the colonel's quarters,
one officer from each company re-
ported at once. The adjutant read
the order to pack and go on board
steamer Sallic List. The colonel
made a few remarks saj-ing, ' You all
know our onl)- surgeon is prostrated
with sickness, and that we have a
great many sick men unable to get
down to the landing. Captain Bos-
worth will turn over the command of
his company to his lieutenant, and

296

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

take charge of the ambulances, aud
see that every sick aud disabled mau
is carried down to the bluff and taken
on board the steamer.'

" It was nearl}^ a mile to the bluff,
and the men one after another were
taken down in ambulances. Then
they were carefully taken out and
laid on the ground with their knap-
sacks for pillows. Then they were
gently taken on stretchers aboard the
boat. This duty took up our time
until evening. At length we were all
aboard the steamer, and at midnight
she started for Cairo."

From remarks made by Captain
Howard at one of our late camp-fires
at The Weirs, we quote the follow-
ing : "I was ordered with my com-
pany to see that the knapsacks that
had been taken on baggage wagons
from our encampment at Port Hud-
sou to the landing were properly
placed and stored on board the
steamer Sallie List.

' ' In my entire company there were
but three men who were able to ren-
der any assistance. With these ex-
ceptions, our men were too disheart-
ened and sick to care whether or not
their knapsacks or any other of their
belongings were placed on board the
steamer. ' '

A remark of the post quartermaster
was also sadly suggestive. He had
vivsited the boat during the embark-
ing of the men, to ascertain what sup-
plies were needed. Among other in-
voices that he thought, after making
this visit, were necessary, was a
quantity of plain, pine coffins. These,
accordingly, were ordered. When the
team that brought them came along-
side the boat, he said to the officer of
the day, "I judge l)y the looks of
your men that you will need most

of these before 3'ou reach home."
The sick and enfeebled men looked
at those coffins while being brought
on board and — wondered.

It was nearly two o'clock on the
morning of August 2, when our
transport, the Sallie List, a small
stern-wheel freight boat, cleared the
landing, swung into the stream and
headed north. What glad visions of
home were awakened in the minds of
our men ! Mau}- of them thought if
they only could reach home they
would ask on this earth no greater
blessedness.

The past, even the near past, began
to have the tinge of dreams. Even
thus early we hardly could believe
that what we had been through was a
reality.

On the way up the river, the boat
landed at Natchez, leaving some of
our men who already were stricken
with death.

At Vicksburg, General Grant or-
dered his post surgeon to examine
our .sick, with a view of transferring
to the floating hospital stationed
there, all who were unable to con-
tinue the journey.

The surgeon's examination was
necessarily a brief one, but was long
enough to surprise and startle him.
He ordered forty of our sickest men
to be removed to the hospital boat.
Poor men, they begged, with tears
coursing down their cheeks, to be
allowed to go on with their comrades.
They were told by the kind-hearted
surgeon that their only hope of ever
reaching home was to receive med-
ical treatment there, and rest awhile.

This quieted them to a certain ex-
tent, but still, as if some dread pre-
monition hung over them, they re-
luctantly bade us good-by. Of that

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

J97

forty, it grieves us to sa}', only one
lived to reach New Hampshire.

Our sick and dying were left also
at Helena, Memphis, Columbus, and
Cairo, where they were cared for
and buried at the hands of pitying
strangers. As Captain Rice, speak-
ing of the condition of the regiment
and of the deaths that occurred on
the way home, says: "Our dead lie
buried from Port Hudson to Cairo ;
nay, in the soil of every state from
Louisiana to New Hampshire, the}'
sleep their last sleep."
- It was August 9 when our steam-
boat trip ended and we were trans-
ferred at Cairo to cattle and freight
cars. The accommodations in the
stifled and contracted steamboat
quarters had been none too good.
During a part of the time up the
river the daN's had been hot and the
nights oppressive. Our men, mean-
wdiile, were bunking on the hard
floors, the rough decks, on piles and
boxes of freight and among baggage
and coffins.

All this had been hard enough to
endure, but it was unspeakably worse
in those comfortless and unkept cat-
tle and freight cars. The continual jar
and jolting were distressingh' painful
to our sick men, and no doubt hast-
ened the death of not a few of them.

Perhaps, however, these were the
best accommodations the government
at the time could provide. We hope,
however, that this was not a part of
the murderous contract business that
cost scores of valuable lives while it
enriched a few scoundrels.

Two da}-s and nights later we were
transferred to a train of emigrant,
and at length to comfortable pas-
senger, cars.

Our journey took us through Cen-

tralia and Mattoon, Terre Haute,
and Indianapolis, Union, Bellefon-
taine, Buffalo, All^auy, and Worces-
ter to Concord. "At all those and at
other places," as Comrade Oilman
says, "a heartfelt, gushing sym-
path}' for our suffering regiment was
manifested, loyal men and tender,
loving women pressed upon us edi-
bles, cordials, and delicacies in pro-
fusion."

On the morning of August 14, the
train bearing our regiment entered
slowly the station at Concord whence
we had left November 25, the year
before.

Our regiment had enlisted for nine
months, but some of our men, dat-
ing from the time of enrolment were
in service from twelve to thirteen
months, and a large number of them
had served onh' a month less than a
year. The final muster out did not
take place until August 20.

But we are anticipating a little.
For several hours, in some instances
for days, before reaching Concord,
our men had been dusting and wash-
ing themselves, putting on their
cleanest clothes and rubbing the dirt
and rust from their accoutrements, in
order to make, in presence of their
friends, as respectable appearance
as pcssible.

And we measurably must have suc-
ceeded in this, for the regiment, it
was said, did not present quite such a
pitiable and deplorable spectacle as
was expected from reports that had
reached the North, as to our condi-
tion when leaving Fort Burton for
Port Hudson. And yet some of our
comrades were so changed that
fathers looking into the faces of their
own sons did not know them.

As we stepped from the cars there

>98

HISTORY OF THE SIXTEENTH REGIMENT.

was a repetition of scenes that never
can be forgotten by those who wit-
nessed them. Husbands and wives,
mothers and sons, brothers and sis-
ters, young men, and those to whom
they were betrothed were quickly
and firmly clasped in one another's
arms. There were, even among the
lookers-on, but few cheeks not
bathed in tears. But there was joy
in those tears.

There were, however, other group-
ings here and there, composed of
those who had come to greet us, fully
confident of meeting dear ones of
whose death the}' had not heard.
Eagerl}- they were peering through
the car windows to get a glimpse of
faces they longed to see. Failing in
this, they crowded among us as we
filed out of the train, and pressed
upon us their questions. "Where is
Edward, or John, or Lawrence?"
was avSked by those anxious ones of
those whom they recognized as for-
mer friends. We hesitated to an-
swer. "What has happened? Did
he not come, is he dead?" were the
exclamations that followed, and that
had to be answered thus : ' ' He died
just as we were leaving Port Hud-
son," or "he was left and buried at
Natchez, or \'icksburg, or Cairo."

Dear vSouls ! God alone knew the
anguish on that morning of those be-
reaved and disappointed hearts.

Sad messages, too, were soon on
their way to anxious and agonized
homes in the busy city, in the quiet
village, and to the lowly hamlet that
stood in the hush of the valley, or in
the quiet among the beautiful hills.

During the next day or two the
kind-hearted neighbors entered the
home of more than one of our sol-

diers where the wife or mother was
in waiting for the coming of the dear
one. There was no mistaking the
expression on the face of the messen-
ger, even before the words were
spoken from his trembling lips.

Agony ! Is there not some word in
our tongue that can more fittingly
tell the world of the sacrifices that
were made by those whose lives were
saddened and .shortened, and who
with broken hearts long since were
laid to rest ?

Such is the stor}' of the Sixteenth
New Hampshire regiment. And we
repeat once more, that while our
deaths on the battle-field were not
many, yet it becomes our mournful
duty to say that from the time we
went into active service to the time
of our muster out, our death record is
almost unparalleled by that of any
other regiment from our own or any
other state.

Including those who died within
onh' a few weeks after their return,
and who never rallied from the dis-
eases contracted at Fort Burton, our
roll of death, by the most careful
estimates of our adjutant-general,
reached from forty to forty-five per
cent, of the men originally enlisted.

Only a few of us are left. The
most of these, as the years go by, are
feeling more and more the effects of
our fatal campaign.

After a few years are added to our
national history, it will be left for our
children and our children's children
to rehearse the story of how their
fathers fought and suffered and died
to preserve the union of states — " one
and inseparable."

"TRINITY CHURCHYARD."

By Walter M. Rogers.

Near to the quiet couutr}- town

Where first I drew my breath,
vStands "Trinity Chapel," old and brown,

On the field of "the reaper Death."
Undisturbed by the village din.

Silent it stands and lone,
While " listening silence " reigns within

On undisputed throne.

On a sunny summer Sabbath morn,

Beneath whose azure sk}-
The dew gleamed bright on the tasseled corn

As the tear in beauty's eye,
I turned my steeds through the olden bridge

That spans the river's bed,
Across the meadow and up the ridge,

To that city of the dead.

The morning breeze was hushed and still

The hills and vales along,
Save murmur of the rippling rill,

Or winged warbler's song.
Naught else disturbed the calm repose

Save the requiem of the pines,
As the gentle zephyrs fell and rose

Along their quivering lines.

The quaint old chapel silent stood

Within the churchyard bounds,
Like sentinel of .solemn mood

Guarding its sacred mounds.
" Gathered to everlasting peace,"

The silent sleepers la}-, —
Tenants whose non-expiring lease

Knows no eviction day.

A peace that passeth human thought
Broods o'er that hallowed ground :

A stranger intermeddleth not
With reverence so profound.

^oo TRIXITY CHURCH YARD.

Suushiue and shadow sportive played

O'er monument and stone,
As through the quiet paths I strayed

To muse of loved ones gone.

On every hand familiar names

Of old-time friends appeared,
Man}', whom more than friendship's claims

Their hearts to mine endeared.
And backward wandering through the mist

Of memory's storehouse vast,
Unbidden rose the shadowy list,

The phantoms of the past.

It almost seemed the viewless throng

Had broke their dreamless sleep,
To come once more, with voice of song,

An earthly tryst to keep.
And forms of loved ones passed awa\-

Came thronging to my view.
Companions of that earlier da)',

When life was fresh and new.

Mysterious power ! at whose command

The spectres of the past
Before our inward vision stand,

With meaning deep and vast.
While soul and sense, bewildered, stray —

From earthly scenes withdrawn —
Where halos of the heavenly day

Presage immortal dawn.

And once again the tender tone.

In fancy's dream, we hear,
As when some wind-swept harp has thrown

Its music on the ear.
As quickly lost — that visioned joy, —

And source from whence it sprung.
As passing breezes sweet and coy

With which the harp-strings rung.

Oh. joyful sense that reunites

The present and the past,
Its fading glories and delights

Too beautiful to last 1
The tryst is o'er, and back again

To earthh' scenes I straj-,
A voyager on life's stormy main,

Ere long to come and staj-.

ON THE WINGS OF THE WIND.'

/)V Clarence .]foo?-es IVeed.

N a breezy day late in
autumn the neighbor-
ing fields presented the
appearance of a fairies'
carnival. A thousand
tenuous will-o'-the-wisps were danc-
ing and whirling and sailing in every
direction. Now one alone with
feathery grace would glide along, to
join a moment later a troop of airy
sprites, and be wafted hither and
thither by the erratic breath of the
zeph3'r god. Here and there, the
paths of miniature cyclones could be
traced by the movements of whirling
circles, while in other places solid
phalanxes moved steadily forward.
The ranks of the revelers were con-
stanth- depleted through desertions
to the eastward, to be quickly filled
b}- new recruits from out the west.

With some difhcult}^ I caught a
few of these feather\^ sprites; and,
holding them securely, started home-
ward, but a sudden gust of wind left
me empty-handed, save for some tiny
pieces of stems ; the sprites, again at
libert3^ sailed away with mocking
grace. I caught more, and, shielding
them from the wind, got them safely
indoors, where they proved to be the
seed heads of a grass commonlj'
known as "old-witch grass," though
called by science Panicum capillarc.
The seeds of this plant are produced
in a long, wide-spreading panicle,
having the tips of the branches curv-

ing downward in such a way as to
give a rounded outline, excellentlj'
adapted to rolling along the ground.
The stem below the panicle is very
brittle ; as soon as it becomes dry,
it is broken off by the wind and
the seed head is wafted away until
stopped by some obstacle. The seeds,
held in tiny pockets at the tips of the
branches, drop out on the waj^ so
that the panicle scatters them all
along its path. The plant has thus
adopted a most efficient method of
seed distribution, for out of the hun-
dreds of seeds sown broadcast by
every whirling panicle, some are
pretty sure to find the right condi-
tions for development.

This old-witch grass, or "fool
hay," — though the plant certainly
has more wisdom than the name im-
plies — may serve to illustrate the
means adopted by a large class of
plants for the dispersal of their seeds.
Other grasses — notably the fiy- a way-
grass (Agrosfis sea bra) — have adopted
it ; and to it is due the ubiquity of
many of our most noxious weeds.
The various " tumbleweeds " derive
their common name from the habit of
tumbling or rolling along the ground
when the wind is blowing, scattering
far and wide their myriad seeds.
These plants usually have an oval
or spherical outline, and the stem
breaks off above the root after the
ripening of the seed. Perhaps the

1 From " Seed-Travellers : Stiulies of the Dispersal of Some Ci mnion Seeds." Ginii & Company. /;/ /'iyss

302

ON THE WINGS Of THE WIND.

most familiar example is the common
tumbleweed of waste grounds — the
Aiiiaranfiis albi(s of Linne.

In the great, unbroken sweep of
the prairies the tumbleweeds are es-
pecially at home ; there they flourish
much more than in hilly or mountain-
ous regions, for there are compara-
tively few obstacles to their wide dis-
persal.

When South Dakota was divided,
a county in the southern region
was called Bonhomme, presumably
out of deference to present or pros-
pective French immigrants. To ap-
peal to another class of settlers, per-
haps, one of its towns was named
Scotland. A little over twenty years
ago, by other means than the names,
there was attracted to this town a
colony of Jews from the plains region
of southern Russia. Some of these
immigrants brought over a small
quantit}^ of flaxseed which had es-
caped the eye of the czar's tax-gath-
erer ; when the long journey was
ended, the Scotch - French town
reached, and spring had opened in
what to these Jews must have seemed
indeed the good-man's countj^ where
neither inspector could corrupt nor
gendarmes break through and steal,
the flaxseed was sown in the fertile
prairie soil. It grew apace, and
along with it there came vip a .slen-
der reddish plant that seemed nat-
ural enough to the Russian Jew, for
it had been commonly present in his
crops on the far-away prairies from
which he came. The slender red
plants waxed .strong, and as the}'
grew older broadened out, becoming
harsh and spiny. When the flax
was harvested, they probably were
left in the field ; they were not useful
to the flax crop, and in the density

of his ignorance one could not expect
the immigrant to see in those scat-
tered plants a menace to American
agriculture of tremendous import.
The eyes of others were equally
blind ; the following 5'ear many other
plants came up, and so the species
continued to multiply year after year.

The region immediately about
where it first appeared was wooded
and hilly, but in a few seasons it
reached the surrounding plains, where
it was rolled for miles and miles, and
each year afterward invaded new ter-
ritory. Within a dozen years, it had
spread throughout South Dakota, had
entered North Dakota on the south,
Iowa on the north, and Nebraska on
the east. During the next few years-
it spread with marvelous rapidity, in-
vading Minnesota, Wisconsin, Col-
orado, Illinois, and Ohio. Its prog-
ress was aided by the railroads, which
carried the seed to many distant lo-
calities, that quickly became new-
centres of distribution. Presumably,,
the plant will continue to spread by
similar methods, and within a few
years will be present in most of the-
United States.

Such, so far as it can be traced, is-
the pa.st history of the plant com-
monly called the Russian thistle or
Russian cactus, although it is neither
a thistle nor a cactus. More appro-
priately, it is sometimes spoken of a.s-
the Russian tumbleweed. Botan-
ically, it is a saltwort, being consid-
ered merely a plains variety of the
saltwort common along our Atlantic
coast, as well as in man}' parts of
Europe ; its technical name is Salsola-
kali, variety tragus. In the plains
region of .southeastern Russia, it has
long been known as a noxious pest ;
on account of it, "the cultivation of:

OiV THE WINGS OF THE \VE\1).

\o:-

crops has been abandoned over large
areas in some of the provinces near
the Caspian Sea." In our own West,
it has already caused damage amount-
ing in a single state to millions of
dollars a 5'ear, and it threatens to
become one of the most serious ob-
stacles to the successful pursuit of
American agriculture.

The Russian thistle begins its
yearly growth in a simple, inoffen-
sive w^ay. The j'oung plants are
slender and succulent, but as they
grow older they harden and spread
but, becoming densel)' covered with
sharp spines. When full-grown,
they often attain a diameter of four
or five feet, with a distinctly rounded
outline in . typical examples. After
the seeds have matured, the stem
twists around and breaks off, thus
leaving the tumbleweed free to roll
wherever the wind blows it, dropping
its seeds as it goes along. Inasmuch
as one large plant is estimated to pro-
duce 200,000 seeds, w^hich may be
blown for miles, one can readily
imagine how soon a prairie region
might be overrun by the pest which
grows so vigorously that it crowds
out practicallj' all plants with which
it comes in competition. Nor is this
its only means of causing trouble, for
its spines vex men and animals,
sometimes producing festering sores ;
it is able to spread prairie fires, and,
piling up along wire fences, enables
the wind to blow them over. ' ' When
large and well developed, they are
bulky and stiff, making it very diffi-
cult to run harvesting machinery or
even a plow. On railroad grades
they prevent the growth of grass and
other plants that would keep the
banks from washing."

If a plant as a whole is unable to

part from its moorings and sail away,
scattering its seed as it goes, the
same result may be accomplished, in
part, at least, by furnishing the seeds
themselves with such appendages
that they may be borne on the wings
of the wind. This method of seed
dispersal has been adopted by a large
proportion of the flowering plants.
The degree of adaptation varies
greatly. In the case of many trees,
the seed envelopes have been drawn
out into thin plates, by means of
which, in a strong wind, — when, of
course, they are most likely to break
away from the stem — they ma}' be
carried to a considerable distance be-
fore falling to the ground; even then,
during high winds, many of them
will be picked up and carried farther.
The familiar keys of the maple and
ash will come at once to the mind of
every reader as examples of this kind
of dispersal. It is to be noted that
in such cases the seed has a decided
advantage in starting at a point some
distance from the ground ; its chances
of going far afield are much greater
than they w^ould be if the seed was
borne on an herbaceous plant within
a foot or two of the soil surface. Bo-
tanically speaking, the object which
is commonly called the seed of maple,
ash, or elm, is really a fruit. While
most of us think of an edible pear or
apple, peach or grape, when the word
fruit is brought to mind, to the bota-
nist it means simply "the seed-bear-
ing product of a plant," whether
edible or not. For example, if you
examine the familiar seeds of the elm,
you will find in the centre a tiny ob-
ject, which is the seed proper. The
brownish or greenish outer covering
is the developed ovary, or the enve-
lope in which the minute ovule was

304

OA' THE WINGS OF 'J HE WIND.

borne in the blossom. In this case
the margins of the ovar}^ have been
drawn out all around into thin plates,
making a tiny parachute, which in a
strong wind would sail some distance
through the air before reaching the
ground. Such a winged fruit is
often called a samara or ke5'-fruit.
The hop-tree or shrubby trefoil has a
similar, but larger, fruit with two
little black seeds in the swollen cen-
tre. This is a two-celled samara,
with each ovary having one-half of
its margin drawn out, and the two
united in such a way as to give an
appearance very similar to the seed
of the elm.

In the case of the ash tree, the
fruit, instead of having wings all
around, has a wing at the tip end
only, the seeds proper being held in
pockets at the basal end. The fruit
of the maple is a two-keyed samara,
joined at the base, with the wings
developed along the outer edges.

The seeds which are most perfectly
adapted to riding on the wings of the
wind, are those in which a feathery
pappus or tuft of silken hairs has
been developed in connection with
the seed or seed coat. Dozens of ex-
amples of such seeds at once come to
mind — the thi.stle and dandelion,
aster and goldenrod, poplar and wil-
low, dogbane and milkweed, as well
as many others. The seeds of these
plants literally abandon themselves
to the mercy of the winds ; they may
be miles from their starting point
before alighting, and even then be
picked up again and again before
securing lodgment.

The family, which as a whole has
most availed itself of the seed-carry-
ing properties of the wind, is the
Compositae — the great order of plants

with compound flowers, of which the
thistle, sunflower, dandelion, and
daisy are familiar examples. The
adaptation to wind dispersal is beau-
tifully shown in the seed heads of the
common pasture thistle. The seeds,
which are technically called achenes,
are borne in the familiar, spiny,
flower cups which spread apart as
they ripen and dry. On the top of
each achene is a crown of slender,
white-plumose bristles, which on ex-
posure to the air by the spreading
seed head, expand more and more
until finally they escape, taking with
them the seed. This escape is most
likely to take place on a dry day or
during a drying wind, when the seeds
will be carried with the breeze. The
bristles which are borne on top of the
thistle seed, represent the divisions of
the sepals, which, the reader will re-
member, go to form the calyx or outer
floral envelopes of the simpler flow-
ers. A calyx modified in this way is
usuall}' spoken of as the pappus. In
the case of the thistle, the carrying
power of the pappus is greatly in-
creased by the numerous plumose
branches along each division.

The fact that the pappus is the
modified calyx is easily seen by ex-
amining a newly-ripened seed head
of a goldenrod or aster with a lens.
It will be noted that the withered
corolla enclosing the stamens and
stigma is still in position, with the
limbs of the pappus surrounding it at
the base. At the slightest touch, the
corolla breaks off, leaving simply the
seed surmounted by the pretty ex-
panded ring of white bri.stles. The
seed heads of these plants are small,
so that there is room for the expan-
sion of the pappus on the rather short
seeds.

ON THE WIXCS OF THE U7XD.

305

The dandelion shows a slight modi-
fication of the structure prevailing in
most composites ; the pappus, instead
of springing directly from the top of
the seed, is borne on the end of a
long beak into which the tip of the
ovary has been prolonged. One ad-
vantage of this is to be found in the
fact that by thus enlarging what we
may call the circumference of expan-
sion, the pappus of all the achenes
gets room to expand. Were the pap-
pus attached directly to the top of
the ovary, as in the goldenrod, there
would be a very crowded condition of
things when the dandelion tufts at-
tempted to spread out.

Like most weedy plants, the dan-
delion is very w'ise in its generation,
having man}- characteristics which
fit it to be a winner in life's race.
Its bitter, milky juice prevents the
attacks of insects and herbivorous
animals ; it takes two 3'ears to de-
velop, getting thoroughly ready be-
fore attempting to set seed ; until the
time of blossoming it sends up no
stalk, contenting itself with flat, hori-
zontal leaves, upon which the beasts
of the field may trample with little
injury to the plant; the blossoms are
conspicuous, and attract a great num-
ber of insect visitors to insure cross-
fertilization, in the absence of which,
however, self-fertilization is still pos-
sible ; \\\ey close up under unfavor-
able weather conditions, to prevent
loss of nectar and pollen ; after the
ovules have been fertilized, the head
closes again, remaining in that con-
dition until the seed is ripened :
meanwhile, the beaks on the ovaries
elongate, and the flower stem grows
longer, pushing the seed head above
the surrounding grass, where the
ripened seeds, having assumed the

form of a ghostly sphere, are picked
up by the wind, to be wafted far and
wide.

The seeds of few plants are more
beautifully adapted to wind dispersal
than those of the common milkweeds
or silkweeds. Every one who has
wandered along our Northern high-
ways in autumn, has seen the eccen-
tric follicles of the common Asclepias
cor)ii(ti .

As the pods ripen, they become dry
and break open longitudinally, re-,
vealing a large number of flattened
brown seeds, with thinner margins,
packed snugly away along each side
of a central partition. The seeds
overlap in a manner suggestive of the
shingles on a roof ; only the ends of
most of them can be seen, but those
on the tip of the pod show that each
bears on its smaller end a tuft of
silken hairs, which, when the pod is
first opened, lie straight and fiat,
with the ends of the hairs caught
in the folds of the central mem-
brane. On exposure to the air,
the silken hairs one by one are dis-
entangled, when each curls over
toward the other end of the seed.
Finally, nearly all the hairs on the
upper seeds are disengaged, forming
a beautiful crown fit for the zephyr
god himself; apparently he thinks
so, too, for with gentle breath he
picks them up and bears them far
away.

The long, slender, decorative seed
pods of the dogbane or Indian hemp
— a plant closely related to the silk-
weeds — give forth their beautiful lit-
tle seeds in a similar wa}-.

The seeds of the willow and poplar
are covered with white, downy silk,
by means of which they are borne
through the air in summer, often so

3o6

EDUCA TIONAL DEJ'AKTMKiVi:

filling it as to suggest a light snow-
storm.

Of course, plants which rely upon
the wind for the dispersal of their
seeds have to take their chances that
the seeds will find a lodgment under
conditions favorable to growth. . A
large majority of them must meet
with unfavorable conditions and be
lost to the species. But the plants
have ampl}' guarded against such
contingencies by producing, as a
rule, vast numbers of seeds, so that
if onl}' one in a thousand develops,
the species will be able to forge ahead
in the race of life. The number

of seeds produced 1:)\- our common
weedy plants is almost incredible ;
five Russian tumbleweeds are be-
lieved to be able to develop a million
seeds, and in most cases the number
of seeds produced on a single plant
runs into the thousands.

The moral of all this is not far to
seek. However it may be with other
men, he who tills the soil — no matter
how small the area — cannot live to
himself alone. In a myriad ways
Nature insists that he is his brother's
keeper, and under moral obligations
that the keeping shall be borne con-
stantly in mind.

Mi^^Mr^'^

Conducted by I-'red Gowiiig, State Superintendent of Public Instruction

THE NEW RICHARDS SCHOOL BUILDING AT NEWPORT.

By F. O. C/iclIis, Principal of the Newport Higli School.

With the completion and dedica-
tion of the Richards School building,
the town of Newport once more be-
comes the object of the generosity of
its honored and respected townsman,
the Hon. Dexter Richards, and at
the same time the handsome and im-
posing structure adds another attrac-

village

tive feature to Newport, a
that has already gained an enviable
reputation for beauty and attractive-
ness.

The building not only supplies a
long-felt need, but it provides the
town with the last of what may be
termed the modern improvements

lUn 'CA TIONAL DEJWRTMRXT.

507

which go to make up a first-class
thriving New England village.

A lengthy article upon Newport
appeared in the Granitk Moxthlv
of January, 1896. It is not the pur-
pose of the present writer to review
the ground covered in that article,
but simply to give a somewhat ex-
tended description of the building,
the cuts of which accompan>- this
article.

The Richards vSchool building is

As a result of their labors, the gift of
Mr. Richards has been converted
into the splendid school building that
now adorns the central part of New-
port village. It is situated upon a
high and commanding eminence that
presents as fine a view of natural
scener\- as can be found anywhere
in New England, and thus there is
combined in the building and its
surroundings all that is beautiful in
art and Nature, a condition so es-

The Richards School Build i ng.

the result of a gift made to the town
by Mr. Richards on the day of the
annual school meeting in March,
1896. At this time Mr. Richards
gave to the district S22,ooo, to which
lie subsequently added $3,000, for the
purpose of erecting a high and gram-
mar school building.

A building committee, consisting
of D. J. Mooney, vS. I). Lewis, P. A.
Johu.son, E. P. Rowel 1. and B. E.
Pea.sley, was named by Mr. Richards
and chosen by the district to carrx-
into execution the plans of the donor.

sential to the best progress in educa-
tion.

The following facts and statements
are taken mainly from the report of
the buildinsr committee, which was
read at the dedication of the build-

ing.

The building is of brick with
brown stone trimmings. It is 96 feet
long, 60 feet wide, 2 stories high,
each 12 feet high, with a 9-foot base-
ment. The roof is a "sharp-pitched
hip roof" slated with the best qualit>-
of slate. On the north side there are

3oS

ED UCA TIONA L DEPAR T. ME NT.

stair\va\'s. On the tliinl floor is an
assembly hall about 40 by 50 feet,
provided with a commodious stage
and side rooms. The hall was con-
structed by the alumni and former
pupils of the school, and is called
"Alumni Hall."

The fini.sh of the building through-
out is cypress. The floors are of
Georgia pine.

The heating and ventilating is a

High School Room.

two extensions in the walls, 5 by 20
feet each, to furnish additional stair
space. There are three entrances on
this side of the building, with porti-
cos 7 b}- 15 feet over the east and
west doorwaj'S.

The basement is so divided that
there is a toilet room, lunch room,
and large play room at each end of
the building, with the boiler room
between. The boiler room is paved,
and the other rooms are cemented.

The first floor is occupied by the
fifth, sixth, seventh, and eigthth
grades ; the seating capacity of these
rooms is 170. On the opposite side
of the 8-foot corridor, which extends
the entire length of the building,
are three vestibules, two stairways,
teachers' toilet, janitor's closet, and
reception-room. Connected with
each school-room in this corridor is
a spacious open wardrobe.

The second and third floors are
utilized entirely for the high school.
On the second floor is the high school
room, 50 feet by 40, with a .seating
capacity of 100, and connected with
two large recitation- rooms. At the
ea,st end is the laborator}-, 28 by 34
feet; the library, 16 by 18 feet; and
the principal's room. A spacious
wardrobe and hall separate the two

Grammar School Room.

combination of the gravity and me-
chanical systems, and was planned
and installed by the Fuller & Warren
Warming and Ventilating- company.
Steam heat is generated by two
thirty-five horse-power low pressure
boilers. All school and recitation-
rooms and laborator>- are warmed h\
indirect, and other parts of the build-
ing by direct, radiation.

A forty-two inch fan, driven by a
three horse-power water motor, forces
pure air, warm and cold, as needed,
into the several rooms, whenever by
the gravity .sj^stem there may fail to
be perfect ventilation. A small fan,
driven by a two horse- power motor,
ventilates toilet rooms and lavato-
ries. There are drinking fountains
in the halls of the first and second
.stories. The sewerage is connected

ED UCA TIONA L DEPA R TMENT.

:i09

directly with the village system.
The several school-rooms are pro-
vided with an abundance of l)lack-
boards, four feet wide, made of the
first quality slate.

Each room is supplied with com-
bination desks with natural cherry
tops, so arranged that light from the
windows comes from the left and rear
of the pupil. The building is to be
lighted by electricity, and is amply
supplied with speaking tubes, elec-
tric l)ells, and gongs.

A large plaj'ground extends to the
~ea.st of the building, while a beauti-
ful lawn has been laid out to the
front and north.

Such is the character of the build-
ing and its surroundings that is to be
the future home of the school chil-

Recitation Room.

dren of Newport, and it is not too
much to say that the sweet, elevat-
ing, and refining influence of such an
environment will silently but surely
find its way into the life of every
child until he assumes something of
the nobleness of the splendid .struc-
ture and the sweetness of God's pure
air and bright sunshine.

With the new building has come a
thorough and carefully-planned sys-
tem of grading, from the fifth year to

the end of the high school course.
It is the purpose of the district to
make the high school of such a char-
acter as to fit for the best New liug-
land colleges, and to this end a new
curriculum was adopted at the be-
ginning of the present fall term.
The dedication occurred on Septem-
ber 6, and the exerci.ses were com-
mensurate with the importance of the
event.

President Tucker delivered the
principal address, his theme being
' ' Democracy and its Relations to
Education." It was a masterly and
scholarly treatment of the subject,
and dul}- appreciated by the vast
audience that was present.

The "Dedicatory Hymn" was
written by Mr. Edward A. Jenks of
Concord, who is a native, and was
for many years a resident, of New-
port. The exercises were appro-
priately terminated by Dr. Tucker :
as he stood upon the stone steps of
the central entrance, he dashed
against the building a glass of pure
water, christening the edifice the
"Richards School Building," and
dedicated it to the cause of educa-
tion, temperance, and virtue.

The people of New Hampshire are

Alumni Hall.

3IO

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY

well aware that this is not the first
benefaction that Mr. Richards has
bestowed upon his native town. The
Richards Free library, with its books
and endowment, a handsome brick
residence, and other smaller gifts
represent, at least, $75,000, which
with the present gift will bring the

sum total to not less than Si 00, 000
that Mr. Richards has freeh- contrib-
uted for the purpose of promoting the
intellectual life and moral growth of
the community in which he was born,
brought up, and has learned to love
so well. Few towns can boast such
citizens.

CHARLES A. DANA.i

Charles Anderson Dana was born August 8, 1819, in Hinsdale, Cheshire
count}^ New Hampshire, from which town, when he was two years old, his
parents moved to Gaines, Orleans county. New York, and afterwards, when
he was about eight years old, they removed to Guildhall, Vermont; at the
age of twelve he went to live with his uncle in Buffalo, New York ; was edu-
cated in the public schools, and for two 3'ears at Harvard college, leaving on
account of failing eyesight, but eventually receiving his degree of A. B. as a
member of the class of 1843, and also in 1861 the honorary degree. of A. M.;
he became in 1842 one of the Brook Farm association at Roxbury, Massa-
chusetts, and his first newspaper work was on the Harbiiigei-, a paper con-
nected with that experiment ; in 1844, he was an assistant editor to Elizur
Wright on the Boston Clironotypc; in 1847, an assistant to Horace Greeley
on the New York Tribune^ aiding in making the paper a radical anti-slavery
journal, and continuing with it after a voyage to Europe in 1848, as one of
the proprietors, and as managing editor, until April i, 1862, when he re-
signed on a sudden request from Mr. Greeley, made because he was too
strenuously forcing the 1 ribiinc to demand the utmost possible vigor in the
prosecution of the war, and he did not again meet Mr. Greeley until ten
years later, when he was supporting him in the Sun as the Democratic nom-
inee for the presidency; on June 16, 1862, he became attached to the war
department as one of the department commission to investigate claims at
Cairo, Illinois, and on March 12, 1863, as special commissioner of the depart-
ment to report on the condition of the pay service in the western army ; on
June I, 1863, in order that he might be subject to military exchange if cap-

Froni an article Ijy .•^enatur William F,. Cliandlcr in the Granite Monthly for March, iSg6.

The Late Charles A. Dana.

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 311

tured when visiting the front of the army, he was appointed major and assist-
ant adjutant-general, and on December 31, 1863, was nominated to the senate
for that office, but he never formall}' accepted it, and the nomination, at his
request, after he returned from Vicksburg, was withdrawn on Februar}^ 24,
1864; on January 20, 1864, he was nominated as assistant secretary of war
for one year from January 19, 1864; confirmed January 26, and took the oath
of office on January 28; renominated January 23, 1865, and confirmed on
the same day — rendering the principal part of his service for the war depart-
ment under the above commissions and as assistant secretary by visiting the
ami}' headquarters of Rosecrans, Sheridan, Sherman, and Grant, advising
confidentially with the commanding officers, and corresponding freely with
President L,incoln and Secretary Stanton, resigning as assistant secretary
July I, 1865; in 1855, he had begun to plan, compile, and edit, with George
Ripley, the " New American Cyclopedia," and the original edition was com-
pleted in 1S63, and became the "American Cyclopedia" between 1S73 and
1876 ; in 1867, he started the Chicago Republican ; and on January 27, 1868,
he issued the first number under his management of the New York Sioi, and
became its editor and proprietor, making it in 1872 a Democratic newspaper,
and continuing in its control until his death, October 17.

GEORGE F. BERRY.

George F. Berry, a native of Pittsfield, died in that town October 7, aged
67 years. For more than twenty years he had been president of the Pittsfield
Savings bank, and he had served the town and school district also as treas-
urer.

GEORGE C. LINCOLN.

George C. Lincoln died at his home in Dorchester, Mass., Septem-
ber 23. He was born in Walpole in 182 1, and for thirty years was a promi-
nent citizen of North Brookfield, Mass., where he held numerous offices, in-
cluding that of town treasurer and selectman for many years. In 1878, he
was elected as a Democrat to the legislature. He was appointed postmaster
by President Cleveland in 1885, holding that office for four years.

FRANCIS COL15ATH.

Francis Colbath died at Whitefield October 2. He w^as born in Farming-
ton in 1815, and was the last surviving brother of Vice-president Henry Wil-
son. He was in the custom house in Boston many years ago, and carried on
a farm in Canada until 1890, but has lived in Whitefield since 1891.

DR. I. L. MOORE.

Dr. I. Iv. Moore was born in Candia November 24, 1824, and died in Bos-
ton, October 2. He was graduated from Amherst college and from the Jeffer-
son Medical college, Philadelphia, and practised his profession in lyOwell and
Boston until 1868, since which time he had been mainly engaged in real
estate operations. He was five times a member of the Massachusetts legis-
lature, and for three years of the Boston school-l)oard.

312 A^iS'W'' HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

DAVID PT)LSOM.

David Folsom, president of the H. & D. Folsom i\rms Company, New
York, died October 20. He was born in Auburn fifty-six j^ears ago. He
was educated at Dartmouth college, and in 1861, immediately on leaving col-
lege, went to St. Louis to join his brother, Henry Folsom, who had estab-
lished a business for the manufacture of arms a year previously. The firm
was known as the H. & D. Folsom Arms Company. At different periods it
had branches in Chicago, Memphis, New Orleans, and New York.

DR. IRA II. ADAMS.

Dr. Ira H. Adams died at Derry September 15, aged 50 years. He was
graduated from Dartmouth college in 1876, and commenced practice in
Hooksett, but had been located at Derry for twelve j^ears. He represented
the town in the legislature in 1891, and was prominent in secret society cir-
cles.

JOHN N. BARR.

John N. Barr was born in Bedford September 22, 1819, went to Nashua

at the age of 20, and remained there until his death, October 10, becoming a

grain merchant and one of the most prominent business men of that city.

He was a deacon and prominent member of the Pilgrim Congregational

church.

IRA LEONARD.

Ira Leonard was born in Allenstown February 18, 1806, and died in
Lowell, Mass., September 21. He was an inventor of considerable note, and
had worked at various mechanical trades in many states of this country and
in England.

The Granite Monthly.

Vol. xxhi,

DECEMBER, 1897.

No. 6.

AN HISTORIC LANDMARK.
Bv H. Bartlett Morrill.

'N 1741, Benuing Went-
worth was appointed
governor of New Hamp-
shire, and entered upon
the duties of office with
much splendor and brilhancy. Nine
years later he erected, at Little Har-
bor, the retired and romantic resi-
dence that bears his name. The old
Went worth Mansion, as it is com-
monly called, has suffered less by the
obliterating hand of time than an}-
of the old houses in the immediate
vicinity of Portsmouth. As one
views the old pile to-day, so it was,
with a few slight alterations, 147
years ago. Historically, the house
has many associations. It was here
that the immortal Washington first
stopped on his memorable visit to
Portsmouth, coming by water, and
afterwards going to the town by
land. There are many others, w^hich
are, however, of such an intricate
nature that it will be impossible to
mention them here. A pleasant
walk of about two miles from the
■centre of the town brings us to the

owing to

entrance of the grounds

an eminence, the house is not visible

from the road ; but as w^e enter the

Gov. Benning Wentworth.

driveway, it suddenly bursts into view
and one experiences a thrill of pleas-
ure, doubtless because of its unique

314

AN HISTORIC LANDMARK

»• Wentworth Mansion — Front View.

aspect. The greater portion of the
house is two stories in height, with
wings forming three sides of a square.
No style of architecture is in evi-
dence ; it has the appearance of a
group of buildings, of no particular
size or shape, which seem to have
been added from time to time, accord-
ing to the existing needs of the fam-
ily, — though this is not the case I am
told. Formerly, the house contained
fifty-two rooms, but by a subsequent
removal of a part, the number was
reduced to forty-five. It commands
a superb view of the waters of L^ittle
Harbor and the sea ; indeed, it would
be difficult to find a more variegated
or beautiful environment. But let us
enter the rambling old structure.
When we cross the threshold, the
present century, with its incessant
turmoil and bustle, is left behind, and
we step into the colonial period.
Here the past seems to have come to
an abrupt halt, to await our inspec-
tion ; everything is said to be just as
the old governor left it, and one can
hardly doubt the truth of the asser-
tion.

The first room we enter is the
kitchen, — and what a kitchen ! Culi-
nary work would be a pleasure here.
It is a large, square room with an

has turned

enormous fireplace ; in
the centre is a large,
solid oak table of great
thickness, which is
scrupulously clean.
The fireplace no longer
performs its proper
function, a modern
cooking stove having
been substituted, but
its black and sooty sides
testify that in times gone
by many a huge log
to ashes on its hearth.

lycading from the kitchen is a pas-
sageway, at one end of which is a
washing-room on a large scale. A
number of small rooms open from the
passageway, — these are for the help,
— but we will turn to more interest-
ing scenes. The dining-room, where
so many sumptuous banquets have
been held, is next to the kitchen.
Here is a sideboard, noticeable for its
queer construction and carving ; an
open fireplace, somewhat smaller
than that in the kitchen, is here also.
It would be impossible to give an
adequate idea of an ingenious ma-
chine which seems to consist of cog-

Rear View.

AN HISTORIC LANDMARK'.

315

wheels, weights, and pulleys, that
occupies a position on one side of the
fireplace. By means of this curious
contrivance, the spit on which va-
rious things were roasted, was made
to turn continually ; even
though a clumsy thing, it
has apparently acquired
the secret of perpetual mo-
tion. In this room are
numerous articles of inter-
est, among them an old-
fashioned egg-beater, con-
structed on the plan of a
bow and arrow, — the ar-
row being fixed in the
bow and made to turn.
The place where the point
should be is covered with
projections and these,
when the arrow is turned,
beat the eggs. I fear I
have forgotten the exact
mechanism of. this won-
derful instrument, but it
shows that our progenitors
were not without inventive
genius. I would say here
that the house is a perfect freak of
architecture. One never knows when
he is going to disappear from view
down some unseen steps, or tumble
over some ascending ones, — a most
unsafe place for one who has lingered
over his wine, or is of an absent turn
of mind. Mounting a short flight of
steps, we enter the spacious drawing-
room, almost as rich in its original
finiiih as it was 140 years ago. The
wall paper is of large pattern, as is
the paper used at present ; just what
the paper is composed of would hz
difficult to say, but it feels very much
like plush. As we sink into one of
the comfortable chairs with which
the room abounds, it requires no

great stretch of the imagination to
bring before us some of the scenes
which once transpired here. By
his first wife. Governor Wentworth
had three sons, all of whom died dur-

Drawing-room.

ing his governorship, leaving him a
childless and lonel}' widower. Nat-
uralh', in his loneliness, he began to
look about for some one to help him
bear the burden of life. A young
lady, — Moll}- Pitman by name, —
attracted his attention, and capti-
vated his fancy. He proposed mar-
riage, but the fair lad}' had placed
her heart elsewhere, — with one who
walked in the humbler paths of life,
preferring him to tlie governor with
his wealth and position, so he was
refused. The governor did not for-
get the indignity of the refusal, and
with the hope that the refractory one
might yet yield to his persuasions,
succeeded, with the help of a press

3i6

AN HIS TOR J C LANDMARK.

gang aud au English frigate, in re- dreamy "Old Town by the Sea."
moving her husband, Richard Short- Mrs. Stavers, who enjoyed the dis-
ridge, from tlie scene. For seven tinction of being the wife of the first
long years he was tossed about on mail-carrier, is standing in the door
the stormy seas, going from one ship of her boarding-house, looking in no

kind manner at a laugh-
ing, careless, bare footed
girl, scantily clothed, who
is passing the house, car-
rying a pail of water, in
which, as the poet says,

"The shifting sunbeams danced."

"You pat! You pat! Oh,
why do you go looking
so?" cried Mrs. Slavers
severely. "You should
be ashamed "to be seen in
the street. ' ' ' ' Never mind
how I look," says Miss
Martha, whose last name
was Hilton, "I shall ride
in my chariot yet." The
prophecy was a fortunate
one. Martha went to live
at Little Harbor with
Governor Went worth , as
a servant. Years passed
away, and the thin, angu-
lar girl developed into a beautiful
woman — a lady by instinct. The
governor, who seems to have been
susceptible to beauty and not too
old to indulge in matrimony, fell in
love with the fair Martha. A little
later a dinner party is given to a
number of friends, among them the
Rev. Arthur Brown. It is in honor
of his birthday, and after the most
elaborate dinner, while the guests are
discussing their tobacco pipes, Mar-
tha Hilton glides noiselessly into the
room, gorgeously arrayed, with hair
towering aloft. A look of surprise
manifests itself on the faces of the
guests, who wondering gaze at each

Entrance to Council Channber.

to another. Ultimately, he escaped,
and returned to his wife, who, strange
to say, had during his absence with-
stood the temptations and allure-
ments proffered by the governor ; and
he, with all

" His treasures, his presents, his spacious
domain"

had not made her untrue to her vows,
nor carried her home as his spouse.
The governor, though baffled in his
first attempts, eventually obtained a
life long companion, — but not Molly
Pitman.

We will turn for a moment to an-
other picture. The scene is on what
is now known as Court street, in the

AN HISTORIC LANDMARK

317

other. The
rises, and

frovernor

Council Chamber — Showing Paintings and Settee.

" Played sligrhtly with his ruf-
fles, then looked down

And said unto the Reverend
Arthur Browti,

This is my birthday ; it shall
likewise be

My wedding day, and you
shall marry me.'"

It was perfectly natural
that the Rev. Arthur
Browu .should be slightly
surprised, as well as cou-
fu.sed, and in the absence
of self-possession, which
usually forsakes one at
such moments, he could
think of nothing to say,
save, "To whom, your

excellency?" which was certainly not came Lady Wentworth, and proved
brilliant. "To this lady," replied a faultless wife. Unquestionably,
the governor. The reverend man she apprised Mrs. Stavers of the fact
hesitated, but as the governor com- ere many days had passed,
manded, the ceremony was per- Leaving the drawing-room, we de-
formed, and plain Martha Hilton be- scend a flight of steps and enter the

council chamber. At the
entrance to this room are
cases in which rest the
muskets used so long ago
by the governor's guard.
Sad affairs they are, but
they have seen better
days, and serve to arouse
our sympathy for the un-
fortunate men who had
to carry these small can-
non. The council room,
the largest in the house,
is a square, high-studded
apartment, furnished in
all the richness of the
period ; this is by far the
most entertaining of all
the rooms. Over the
open fireplace is an ex-

Council Chamber-Showing Mantel and Carving. qUlSltcly CarVCd Uiantel

;i8

AN HISTORIC LANDMARK.

of large diniensious ; the work is The walls here are adorned with
admirably wrought, and is said to some excellent family paintings,
have been brought from England, Once these mute people on canvas
where it cost the maker a year's thronged these old rooms in all their
labor. Directly opposite the man- glory, — but alas! they are no more,
tel is a long bamboo settee of One in particular deserv^es special
odd pattern. A shiny, well-worn mention. This is that of the beauti-
cushion covers the seat. Doubtless ful Dorothy Quincy, afterwards the
the governor's council sat on this wife of John Hancock, and once
while discussing questions of vital more Madam Scott. This painting

is by Copley. Also, op-
ening out of the council
room are a number of
tiny apartments, which
were used for cards. In
the dark night hours
when the wind howls
mournfully around the
old house, perchance the
ghosts of the illustrious
ones who once played
here, return for a quiet
rubber. We will now go
upstairs. The second
floor is a labyrinth ; one
actually needs a guide to
get around, and Theseus's
bit of thread would get
hopelessly tangled here.
The passages wind in
and out, up and down,
and appear and disappear
in the most annoying-
manner. How guests who
dined late at the hospitable mansion,
and spent the night there, ever found
their rooms, is a mystery yet to be
solved. Each bedroom has a small
dressing chamber scarcely large
enough to. turn around in, connected
with it. To get to this, one has to
descend a number of steps, sometimes
more, sometimes less. There are no
two things or rooms alike in the
house. That the honey of life is va-
riety was evidently the governor's

Billiard-room and CId Spinet.

importance to the state. A billiard
room opens off the council chamber.
No longer is there a table there, but
an antique spinnet stands in its place.
It has a ghostly voice, which seems
to reproach the meddler for molest-
ing its ancient reign. In one corner
stands a claw-footed buffet, on which
many a well-filled punch-bowl has
rested ; probably it is the imagina-
tion, but one thinks he can still de-
tect the delicious odor of punch.

AT PARTING.

maxim. Woe betide the somnambu-
list who undertook nocturnal pilgrim-
ages in that perilous region ; if he
escaped with a broken leg he was
fortunate. Throughout the house,
with the exception of the council and
drawing-rooms, the floors are bare
and freshly painted.

I cannot close this paper without
mentioning the cellar. It is most
extensive, and the massive beams
of oak seen everywhere, show of
what material, and in what a sub-
stantial manner colonial mansions
were built. In times of danger it
was the custom to keep the horses
here ; a troop of thirt}' or more
could easilv find shelter. Before

leaving, I was shown a number of
historical relics — not bogus, as are
most of those we pay to look at
abroad, but genuine in every respect.
Among them was a huge padlock,
which would have sufficed to lock
the doors of Newgate or the Old
Bailey prisons. I am inclined to be-
lieve that even the dusky redskins
would have been appalled, if treated
to a sight of this ponderous lock, and
given up an assault on a house so
well protected. The present owners
are always willing to gratify the de-
cent curiosity of strangers, and a
visit to this quaint old structure of
long ago is well worth the time, and
will not be regretted.

AT PARTING.

By Clarence Henry Pearson.

Farewell, O friends, that long have helped me bear

The burden of my woe ;
Beyond the reach of your fond love and care

I now must go.

With wistful eyes I peer into the night.

Hoping that I may see,
In some far window set, a light

Shining for me.

But all in vain — no cheering ray, alas!

Illumines the Unknown,
And hoping, doubting, wondering, I pass

Into the dark alone.

If this ends all, within the old earth's breast

There is a cool retreat.
Where safe from pain's tormenting lash I '11 rest —

And rest is sweet.

And if our hopes in some blest Aidenn bloom

And perfect fruitage bear,
My stumbling feet shall struggle through the gloom

Till I find refuge there.

^r^

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i':.

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The Petition — See page 324.

THE SANBORN OR SAMBORNE FAMILY

EAKI.V OPPOSITION" TO ARBITRARY GOVERNMENT IN HA:\IPT0N,

By F. B. Sanborn.

N Mr. Victor C. vSau-
boru's genealogy of the
Sanborn famil}', to be
published next year,
space . will be given to
an important document for the early
history of Hampton, and of the Sam-
bornes (as they then wrote the
name) in America. Joshua CofRn,
in his "History of Newbury," and
Miss Eucy Dow, in her " History of
Hampton," have briefl}^ touched on
the resistance to arbitrary govern-
ment, by the early planters of Hamp-
ton, in the year 1653, when the per-
secution of the Quakers was about to
begin, preceded, as it was, by severe
measures against the Baptists. But
neither of these chroniclers seems to
have quite understood the import-
ance of the act in question, or the
significance of the protest made
against it. Mr. Cofhn had seen the
petition of the Hampton planters, but
did not print it in full ; and naturally
he paid more attention to the remon-
strances from Newbury, the town
of which he was writing the his-
tory. The course of events ran some-
thing like this :

Robert Pike, one of the founders of
Salisbury, and, in 1653, a lieutenant,
petty magistrate, and active citizen
there, at the age of thirty-six, was
informed that the General Court of
the Massachusetts colony, of which
John Endicott was then governor,

had passed a law making it penal for
certain persons to teach religion, —
aimed particularly, it was said, at
Thomas Macy and Joseph Peasle3^
of Salisbury, his neighbors, — and
was properly indignant at such inter-
meddling with the conscience of
Englishmen. Being accustomed to
speak his mind. Lieutenant Pike de-
clared that ' ' such persons as did act
in making that law, did break their
oath to the country"; for, said he,
" It is against the liberty of the coun-
try, both civil and ecclesiastical."
In this he was but echoing the words
of Vane and of Cromwell, then in
power in England, who had said,
' ' Liberty of conscience is a natural
right, and he that would have it
ought to give it." But the Massa-
chusetts bigots held no such liberal
doctrine ; and they soon sent an offi-
cer from Boston to the other side of
the Merrimack, to bring Pike before
them. Once there, the general court
ordered him to pay a fine of twenty
marks (about thirteen pounds ster-
ling) and to be disfranchised, dis-
qualified from ever holding office,
and bound over to good behavior,
like a criminal.

Lieutenant Pike was personally
known to every man in Hampton,
the next town beyond Salisbury, and
much sorrow and wrath was felt at
his unjust sentence. Then, and for
years after, he was intimate with

322

THE SANBORN OR SAMBORNE FAMILY.

Christopher Hussey, a leading citi-
zen of Hampton, and the uncle by
marriage of Nathaniel Bachiler,
grandson of Rev. Stephen Bachiler,
who had founded the plantation in
1638, and of the three brothers Sam-
borne, John, William, and Stephen,
from whom all the American San-
borns are descended. Mr. Hussey
seems to have been the man who
advised a petition to the court, ask-
ing to have Pike's sentence revoked ;
from the handwriting it was probably
drafted b}- John Samborne. They
and their kinsmen signed it, and
they were joined in this by the two
Daltons, brother and nephew of the
successor of Bachiler in the ministry,
by Robert Tucke, the "chirurgeon"
of the town, by Jasper Blake, Abra-
ham Perkins, Humphrey Humber,
the Marstons, Moultons, and other
substantial citizens, to the number of
thirty-eight in all. A larger number
of signers added their names in Salis-
bury and Newbury, and a few in An-
dover and Haverhill ; but the first
page of the rare old paper is given up
wholly to Hampton, and the auto-
graphs of its planters. It is still very
legible, as will be seen, — and no-
where else is there extant a fuller
list of the actual signatures.

This moderate and numerously-
signed petition made the L,ords
Brethren at Boston (if possible) still
more angry than they had before
been. They had the prudence, how-
ever, to repeal the obnoxious order
"concerning public preaching with-
out allowance ; which order, we
understand, is dissatisfactory to
divers of the brethren whom we have
cause to respect and tender." But
they also proceeded to punish the pe-
titioners in these words :

The Court cannot but deeply resent that so
nianj- persons, of several towns, conditions and
relations, should combine together to present
such an unjust and unreasonable request as the
revoking the sentence passed the last court
against Lieutenant Pike and the restoring him
to his proper liberty, without any petition of
his own, or at least acknowledgement of his
offence, fully proved against him ; which was
no less than defaming this Court and charging
them with breach of oath; etc. — which the peti-
tioners call some words let fall by occasion.
The Court doth therefore order, in this ex-
traordinary case, that commissioners be ap-
pointed in the several towns, — namely, [here
those for the other towns] and Captain Wiggan
for Hampton, — who shall have power to call
the said petitioners together, or so many of
them at a time as they think meet, and require
a reason of their unjust request, and how they
came to be induced to subscribe lo said peti-
tion, and so to make return to the next session,
that the court maj' consider further how to pro-
ceed herein.

This was the preliminary step.
After Captain Wiggin had made his
report for Hampton, as given below,
and it appeared that Christopher
Hussey and his nephew, John Sam-
borne, would not give up their right
to petition, in any manner and for
any cause they saw fit, the I,ords
Brethren then voted (October; 1654,)
that those persons ' ' who have not
given satisfaction, and whose names
are herein written, shall be sum-
moned to give bond, in ^10 for each
man, to give answers for their offence
before the county court." It does
not appear whether ni}- ancestor actu-
ally gave bonds or not, — probably
only in name, if at all, for he con-
tinued to serve the town of Hampton
in various capacities, civil and mili-
tary, till his death in 1692, at the age
of seventy-two. He was even recom-
mended by Sir William Warren to
the Lords of Trade, in 1679, as one
of the persons in Hampton best qual-
ified for his majesty's council, — to
which, in fact, his uncle Hussey was

7 HE SANBORN OR SAM BORNE FAMILY.

323

appointed. And it is worth remark-
ing that of the four so named by Sir
William (Samuel Dalton, Captain
Hussey, John Samborne, and Na-
thaniel Weare) all who were living
in Hampton in 1653 had signed the
censured petition. It may be further
remarked that Thomas Wiggin, who
made the report, was not strictly a
resident of Hampton at any time ;
but had taken up a large farm in
Stratham, not yet made into a town,
and was rated and paid taxes at
Hampton for convenience, rather
than at Exeter; his son Andrew
afterwards (1659) married Hannah
Bradstreet, daughter of Simon, after-
wards governor of Massachusetts,
and his wife, the poetess, Anne Brad-
street, whose father was Governor
Dudley, one of the strictest of the
Ivords Brethren.

The Wiggin report, in 1654, was
brief and suggestive :

For Hampton, Captain Wigrgin returns that
those persons that gave their hands to that pe-
tition do acknowledge their offence, and hum-
bly desire the court to pass it by ; except two
persons, who refused to make answer, to any
satisfaction; whose names (Christopher Hus-
sey and John Samborne) are here underwrit-
ten.

.It is probable that the uncle and
nephew, as heads of the two families
of Hussey and Samborne, took upon
themselves the reproach that might
attach to disobedience, and allowed
the younger members to shield them-
selves from further censure.

It is extremely doubtful if either
William or Stephen Samborne (the
latter had special charge of his aged
grandfather, Rev. Stephen Bachiler,
then ninety three years old, and went
to England with him not long after),
' ' humbly desired " to be pardoned ;
but they were probably so reported

by Captain Wiggin, who wished to
bring the matter to a peaceful issue.
vStill less is it likely that another of
my ancestors, Edward Gove, then
registered in Salisbury, but after-
wards a citizen of Hampton (in that
part which is now Seabrook), made
many apologies for his boldness in
petitioning ; for he was the person
who, in 1683, headed a small rebel-
lion against the tyranny of Cranfield
and Mason in New Hampshire, and
was sentenced to be hanged, drawn,
and quartered for that offense. Gove
was taken to England, but there par-
doned and returned to Hampton,
where he died in his bed. John
Samborne 's son Joseph married Ed-
ward Gove's daughter, and estab-
lished himself, about 1680, on the
Sanborn estate in Hampton Falls,
where I was born, and which has
never since been out of the family.
John Samborne himself was arrested
in October, 1684, at his house in Old
Hampton, for not admitting the title
of Mason to his property there; the
next year he was chosen, with his
cousin, Nathaniel Bachiler, to repre-
sent Hampton in the general assem-
bly at Portsmouth. He died in 1692,
as before said, and his brother Wil-
liam (who was drawn a juryman for
the trial of Gove, in 1683, but did
not sit) died the same 3'ear. From
these two brothers are descended all
the Sanborns in the United States
and Canada.

Major Pike (he rose to that grade
after 1653, when he was only lieuten-
ant,) paid his fine for exercising the
privilege of free speech, but was tiot
long disfranchised ; his pa.stor, Mr.
Worcester, who preceded the pugna-
cious John Wheelwright as minister
of Salisbury, petitioned the general

324

THE SANBORN OR SAMBORNE EAMIIA

court in Pike's favor, and the court
voted October 23, 1657, to revoke his
sentence. He was soon after elected
representative from Sahsbury, and
took his seat at Boston, May 10,
1658. At the same session, but with-
out Pike's vote, a second severe law
was passed against the Quakers, of
which sect by this time w^ere Thomas
Macy and Joseph Peasley, at whom
the law of 1653 was aimed. Macy
soon went away to Nantucket, of
which he and a son of Christopher
Husse}- were founders, and where
Pike was one of the landowners.
King Charles II. in 1661 revoked
the law against the Quakers, after
several of the sect had been hanged
in Boston, and others flogged in
other towns,— two women, in particu-
lar, having been sentenced by Major
Waldron of Dover to be flogged,
in 1656, all the way from Dover
to Ipswich, at the cart's tail. When
they reached Salisbury, Major Pike,
through Walter Barefoot, released
them, and forbade their whipping in
his jurisdiction, as the tradition goes.
In 1682, notwithstanding his liberal
opinions, he was made an assistant,
that is, a councillor, of the governor
of Massachusetts, and continued in
that ofhce till he was eighty years
old. In the New England Magazine
for vSeptember last, is a portrait of
this old worthy, with a sketch of his
life, and an account of the petition
here copied; but Mr. Withington,
the writer, had apparently never seen
the original petition. In the only
form now preserved, none but the
Hampton petitioners and some of
those from vSalisbury signed in auto-
graph ; the other names are copied
on the back of the Hampton petition,
which makes the first page with its

signers, thirty-eight in number.
Only seven of these were unable to
write their own names ; and the list
includes nearly all the principal citi-
zens of Hampton, Hampton Falls.
and Seabrook, at that date. Tran-
scribed into legible English, but pre-
serving the antique spelling, this in-
teresting document reads as follows :

To the Honnered Generall Court

Nowe assembled at Boston,
The humble petticion of
the inhabitants of Hampton,
Salisbury, Newbery, Ht^veral, Andover, Shew-
eth:

That Whereas our Loving friend Leaftenant
Robert Pike of Salsbery hath by occasion, as it
is witnessed Against him, L,et fall som words
for w'h this hon'rd Court hath bine pleased to
censuer him,

Wee haveing had Experiance that he hath
beene A peaceable man and a usefull instru-
ment amongst us, Doe thearefor humbly desier
this honnered Court that the sd.Sentance maye
be Revoaked and that the sd. Leaftenant Pike
bee Againe restored unto his former Libertye.
Soe shall wee still praie, etc.

Christopher Husse, Robart Tucke, Richard
Swaine, John Samborne, Francis Swaine, Wil-
liemSamborne, Stephen Samborne, Moses Cox,
William Fifield, John Redman, Thomas Fletch-
er [?], Jeffery Mingay, Eliakim Wardell, John
Wedgwood, Thomas Marston, The T Mark of
Willim Maston, Philemon Dalton, Samuell Dal-
ton, Robert Page, Will. Moulton, Samuell Fogge,
Nathaniell Bachiler, Jisper Blake, Christopher
Palmer, John Marston, The ]' Mark of Josiah
Meren, The Mark of Antoni Talier, The /'
Mark of John Cass, The 7^ Mark of John Merin
[Marian], Thomas Coullman, Thomas Phil-
brock, Abraham Perkins, Henry Roby, The
T Mark of William Cole, Nathaniell Boulter,
Humphrie Huniber, The Mark X of John
Clifoord.

Along the lower margin of the
page is written by the clerk of the
deputies :

The deputies deser the honer'd Magistrates

to declare their Apprehentions in this Case in

the first place.

William Torrey Cleric.

No date appears on this petition,
but it was signed in the years 1653-

THE SANBORN OR SA.UBORNE FAMILY

325

'54, and presented in the spring of
the latter year, I think. This was at
the time the Quakers began to be
troublesome to the Puritans, although
the first English Quakers did not
land in Boston till the summer of
1656; and the first law against them
in Massachusetts (which still held
jurisdiction in the four New Hamp-
shire towns of Hampton, Exeter,
Dover, and Portsmovith), was pub-
lished by beat of drum, October 21,
1656. Its savage preamble ran thus :

Whereas there is a cursed sect of heretics
lately risen up in the world, which are com-
monly called Quakers, who take upon them to
be immediately sent of God, and infallibly as-
sisted by the vSpirit to speak and write blas-
phemous opinions, despising government and
the order of God in church and commoawealth,
speaking evil of dignities, reproaching and re-
viling magistrates and ministers, seeking to
turn the people from the faith, and gain prose-
lytes to their pernicious ways, etc.

During this short persecution of
the Quakers, Christopher Hussey
and his family seem to have joined
the sect, which became numerous in
Seabrook and Salisbury, numbering
many of the names of Chase, Hussey,
Page, Philbrick, Gove, etc. But
John Samborne, my immediate an-
cestor, and his family seem to have
remained in the orthodox church ;
they were friendly to liberty and
stout in resisting aggression, but not
given to fanatical ways or strange
doctrine. Edward Gove may have
been tinctured with fanaticism ; some
of his sayings and doings look like
it, and he was the progenitor of many
Quakers, as well as of one race of
Sanborns. Both he and his daugh-
ter Mary's father in-law, John Sam-
borne, were of the class described by
Grav as

Some village Hampden who, with dauntless

breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood ;

and both Samborne and Hussey had
no hesitation in withstanding the
more formidable tyranny of the
bigots who then bore sway in Boston.
The right of petition has seldom been
more haughtily denied than by these
pett}' rulers who fined Pike, and
threatened his neighbors for raising
a respectful voice in his behalf.

An examination of the autograph
signatures discloses some odd facts.
While many of the Hampton planters
use a chirography resembling Shake-
speare's peculiar signature, others, as
the three Sambornes, have a more
clerkly hand, of the early seventeenth
century ; and still others, like Abra-
ham Perkins, Humphr}- Humber,
and Nathaniel Bachiler, write as do
men of the present age. The latter' s
signature resembles his grandfather's,
Rev. Stephen, as preser^^ed in his
letters to Governor Winthrop, and
given in the Granite Moxthlv,
by Victor Sanborn contributing his
reseai'ches in England on the Bach-
iler and Samborne families. He is
soon to publish the copious geneal-
ogy, on which he and other New
Hampshire Sanborns have been
working for more than half a cen-
tury, and has been fortunate in find-
ing, at the office of the secretary
of state of Massachusetts, this li.st
which preser\^es the unquestioned
autograph of three brothers who
came to Hampton, 250 years ago, to
plant there the sturdy race now
branching into almost every .state of
the Union and every province of
Canada.

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

By Margaret Littleton.
The conscious stone to beautj- grew." — Emersox : The Problem.

ing its large gray e5'es in a carved
wooden cradle. Angelo looked at
the little stranger with a solemn face ;
then he ran off without saying a
word. The mothers half thought
that he was jealous of their attention
to it. But he soon returned with his
favorite toy, a large wooll}- lamb,
which he held out towards the baby,
saying tenderly :

' ' Take the agnello^- and keep it
always, Agnella mia, sweet one."

The baby threw out its pink fist,
but of course did not take the lamb.
Its mother said she would keep it till
the little Agnella was old enough to
play with it, at which Angelo was
quite satisfied. From that day, the
baby became the first object of his
affection. Far from being jealous,
he thought it was not enough ad-
mired and looked at. Had he been
allowed his own way, he would have
taken it to all his friends, and would
himself have choked it with the ve-
hemence of his kisses.

When the baby was a week old,
Giula Barichielli carried it in her
arms to the grand octagonal baptist-
ery, the just pride of Dante and all
other Florentines, where it received
the name of Agnese Giulia Raffaella.
After the return from the ceremony,
there was a long confabulation be-
tween the heads of the families. Ag-
nella's little hand was placed in An-

^ Lainl).

alANPAOLO BARICHIEIvIvI
and Alberto Corvetti had been
friends from childhood. In
after life, when business partners,
both lived in the same grim old Flor-
entine palace of the Via dei Bardi.
Their wives were friends ; their eld-
est daughters grew up as sisters.
When Gianpaolo's little son was
born, Corvetti's wife was godmother
to the child, who was named, by the
desire of his godfather and maternal
uncle, after one of Italy's greatest
men — Michelangelo. His mother
called him her little angel, her
"Angioletto," and this appellation
developed by degrees into "Angelo."
He was a sweet-tempered child, a
trifle too thoughtful for his years, but
not wanting in animal spirits. Maria
Corvetti petted and loved him almost
more than her friend Giulia Bari-
chielli ; the girls eagerly disputed his
baby caresses ; Alberto Corvetti was
consulted in all things concerning
his phj'sical or moral welfare. If
ever a child was surrounded by lov-
ing care, it was the little Michel-
angelo Barichielli.

When he was four years old, he
was told that a little "Angioletta"
had been brought to his dear niad-
tina} . He was taken to .see the tiny
morsel of humanity, which was blink-

' Godmother.

328

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

gelo's, while all knelt round. There
was a moment's silence; then Bari-
chielli raised his eyes and said rev-
erently :

"May God unite their hearts, as
we unite their hands."

Maria Corvetti responded, in a
voice choked with tears :

"May the holy Virgin watch over
them, and fill them with love, if their
life be granted us."

Thus Michelangelo Barichielli and
Agnese Corvetti were betrothed to
each other, according to the custom
of baby unions, which is not yet
quite extinct in Italy.

II.

In spite of a very delicate infancy,
the little Agnella lived and thrived.
She developed into a child of won-
drous grace and loveliness, sweet and
gentle as the youthful martyr whose
name she bore. Angelo's devotion
to her only increased with years. He
shared with his sposina^ all his joys
and sorrows, all his games and occu-
pations ; he always came to her for
companionship and sympathy, and
was never quite happy where she was
not. It seemed as if the parents'
prayer had been granted, and the
children's hearts were redeeming the
pledge of their babyhood.

III.

According to Italian ideas, it was
not deemed desirable to impart to
Agnella's very receptive mind more
than the merest rudiments of knowl-
edge. From the age of thirteen, the
only lessons given her were in music,
dancing, and the making of artificial
flowers. At fifteen, her education
was thought to be complete. An-

' Little bride.

gelo, meanwhile, had passed bril-
liantly through the best school of
Florence, and had even attended
some of the university classes. His
father had destined him for the mer-
chant profession, — he, the only son,
should perpetuate the good old firm
of Corvetti, Barichielli & Co. But
the boy's tastes lay elsewhere. His
godfather, who superintended the
carving of statues and images from
artists' models (for very few sculp-
tors do the actual chiseling of the
works they have modeled) had al-
ways allowed him the run of the
workshop, and there he had spent
most of his leisure hours, watching
the growth of marble wonders under
the hands of skilful artisans, and
learning the secrets of the art. He
met there many talented artists, who
admitted the enthusiastic lad to their
intimacy, and who kindl}^ guided and
encouraged his attempts at model-
ing. Sometimes they took him to
their studios, where they developed
his critical powers and solicited his
approval, or they let him accompany
them to the galleries while they
copied the great works of ancient and
medieval art.

At home, Angelo's love of sculp-
ture was not at first repressed. Every
Italian loves all things beautiful and
artistic. In that favored land, artists
are as common as they are rare in
most other countries ; you may find
them in the glass factories, on the
house decorator's ladder, in the tink-
er's shed, as well as among the
higher classes. And nowhere is the
feeling of art more prevalent than in
stately Florence, the beautiful " lyily
of the Plain." Its situation devel-
ops the sense of form and color in the
youngest of its inhabitants. Its

A SCULPTOR'S DREAAf.

329

houses are palaces ; its streets are in-
stinct with grand traditions, and re-
splendent with forms of beauty and
symmetry. Its churches are magnifi-
cent monuments to the greatness of
the human soul. Its museums and
galleries, its chapels and public edi-
fices are guardians of the sublimest
creations of human genius, in its
most varied and noblest expression.
One walks as in an enchanted dream
amidst pictures and statues replete
with life, thought, and feeling. The
heavenly visions of Raphael ; the
ethereal images of Fra Angelico ; the
fervent religious art of Giotto ; the
living portraits of Van Dyke and
Rembrandt ; the touching creations
of Fra Bartolommeo, Sodoma, Botti-
celli, Fra Lippo Lippi ; the passionate
richness of Andrea del Sarto ; the sen-
suous splendor of Paolo Veronese —
all these, and many besides, present,
in vivid colors and soft contours, the
ideal of loveliness, the realization of
passion. The white world of chis-
eled harmonies admits us into its hal-
lowed precincts ; we fathom the pe-
culiar secrets of the burnished, shad-
owy bronze. We learn the pulsation
of life and movement from such an-
cient masterpieces as the "Dying
Alexander," the "Niobe" group,
the chaste and graceful " Venus Gen-
itrix." We touch and grasp the
spirit of medieval genius in marvels
like Michelangelo's "David," Celli-
ni's "Perseus," John of Bologna's
"Mercury," Donatelio's "Saint
George." We are taught the sanc-
tity of sorrow and the glory of fame
by the monuments of the dead in
Santa Croce and its sister sanc-
tuaries. Surely, if a man or a woman
have but the veriest glimmer of the
"sacred fire!" Florence, the glo-

rious home of beaut}^ and art, must
fan each struggling spark into burn-
ing life and light.

What wonder, then, that Michel-
angelo Barichielli, the refined and
impressionable son of Florence,
should feel his soul stirred to its
depths by the mighty assertions of
the spirit which moved his illustrious
namesake? What wonder if his
most sacred thoughts, his loftiest as-
pirations, the vibrations of his inmost
being should clothe themselves in
marble visions, should surge and
work within him, crying and wrest-
ling for expression ? The only won-
der was, that his father and his
father's friend, like him the denizens
of that lordly city, should fain force
him into a career which was odious
to him, since it meant the sacrifice of
his dearest hopes. Yet he ended in
submission, because he loved his
father and the father of Agnese ; he
clung to his home and its associa-
tions ; he knew that further resist-
ance on his part would sever the
union which had been sanctioned by
the baby betrothal and the closest in-
tercourse of years. There was a
fierce struggle between art and love,
but in the end love conquered,
though the victory was bought with
the youth's heart blood, with the
radiance of inspiration and the prom-
ise of widespread fame, of a place
near his great predecessor and with
the friends of his boyish days.

But the victory was gained at last,
and Agnella's love was accepted in
exchange for the marble dream-forms
and throbbing art-pulsations.

IV.

Agnella's slender fingers are wan-
dering over the ivory keys, calling

330

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

Daughter of Niobe, Protecting the. Body of her Expiring
Brother.

forth sweet melodies in the Sunday
evening twilight. The elder girls
are exchanging confidences in an ad-
joining room ; the fathers were en-
joying their well-earned rest ; the
mothers are recalling memories of
the distant time when Agnella was
so nearly taken from them. Angelo
is sitting on Agnella's low baby-stool
before the great marble fireplace,
whose delicate reliefs first awakened
in his infant soul the fire that will
not be quenched. Six months of
Struggles and self-control have sadly
changed the handsome boy. His
features are white and sharjiened ;
his brow is contracted ; his mouth is
set in a rigid, drooping curve ; his
eyes are bright with a dark radiance
blended with deep melancholy ; his
clenched hands work convulsively.
He has given in, it is true; but the
forms of beauty will not be chased

from his inward vision ; they return
incessantly to reproach and torture
him. Agnella's sorrowful sympath}^
still has 'the power to win a smile
from him ; but when she is not at his
side, his face resumes its hopeless
sadness.

The sweet, dreamy music stirs him
as it does any trul}^ artistic and sen-
sitive nature. In lifting him above
the realities of earthly existence, it
reveals to him the highest and no-
blest part of himself. But alas for
those who have any cause to dread
and shun their better selves ! The
purest of abstract delights then be-
comes a cause of pain and bitterness.
If Angelo allows himself to think of
anything beyond the distasteful busi-
ness or the lovely sposina, it is but
natural that the forces he has tried to
subdue should reassert themselves.
And so, while Agnella plays, marble
phantoms crowd in his fevered brain.
The music becomes dreamier and
more ethereal, as the idealistic young
soul soars upward by the only outlet
allowed it outside that of sympathy.
Angelo, following its flight, grows
more and more absorbed in the
sweet symbols of his inner cravings.
The twilight insensibly deepens,
veiling the reliefs on the fireplace,
shrouding the gentle musician and
her listeners ; but as the darkness
falls, the light in Angelo's mind in-
creases in strength and radiance.

Now the strain is one of unearthl^^
harmony, and the player is quite
unconscious of her surroundings.
Blending with the entrancing melodj^
are rich, full chords, which ring out
as if to proclaim the victory of spirit
over matter. They thrill and re-echo
in the soul of the young artist, who
presses his icy hands to his throbbing

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

331

temples in excess of misery. Quick
and fast follow the visions of his
mind, rushing in on him with unre-
strained impetuosity, until he can no
longer distinguish between the real
and the ideal. Then, as with a dis-
cordant clang, the thought of his re-
nunciation, and of the other renun-
ciation which is the only alternative,
flashes up before him in searing char-
acters, throwing confusion and dis-
may among the aerial shapes of
beauty. He clenches his hands to-
gether, while his raised eyes seek to
pierce the outer blackness which is
but a faint reflection of the gloom
within. He cannot renounce art ; he
cannot renounce Agnella. Both are
too closely entwined with every fibre
of his heart.

Suddenly he pauses, while thought
for an instant suspends its action.
His e^'es dilate ; his lips part ; he
breathes hard and fast. Some inspi-
ration is slowly molding itself into
definite consciousness. What will it
be? He waits and trembles, but
there is joy in his fear. He is trans-
figured by some influence outside
himself. He feels the breath of the
invisible world ; and a great awe
com-es upon him, a
strange calm after the
passionate anguish.
What is the message
his spirit is preparing
to grasp? Memories
light as air float before
him; the baby be-
trothal, the "Dying
Alexander," the "Da-
vid," the sculptor's
workshop, an artist's
studio, his father's
office, his own room,
his mother's figure, the

carved fireplace, Agnella's face, his
own.

There is something white in front
of him. At first, it is an indistinct
mass ; but it moves, it wrestles, he
feels it writhing and throbbing be-
neath his hands. It is an idea strug-
gling into expression. It is the spirit
of his crushed life, the soul of his
sorrow. It is pure marble ; and yet
it is soft, warm, full of life. Now it
is a woman's form — Agnella's — but
the features are as yet veiled ; it is
bound to the stone. Now there are
fallen chains, noiseless but real, in
spite of their snowy immobility.
Soon the vision will be perfect ; only
a short time of patient waiting, and it
will be revealed to him in all its
majest}'. Haste ! Haste I Or his
eyes will close ; his senses will lose
their perception ; his consciousness
will melt away under the intolerable
strain. He feels his faculties slipping
from him, and makes a desperate
effort to retain them. A cloud passes
before his eyes ; when it is gone, the
vision is there in the fullness of its
beauty. The confused dreams of
5'ears have become incarnate in a
marble being, wondrous fair. He

Dying or Dead Son of Niobe.

^ ^ ->

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

sees it, feels it, grasps it, takes pos-
session of it, and it is branded on his
excited brain. Now let men do their
worst; he has seen his ideal, and he
will realize it without losing Ag-
nella. Now he may faint in weari-
ness or tremble in silence; he has
been in the presence of the finished
work, and he cannot forget it ever.

A cry of wildest exultation wakes
the echoes of the hushed room ; Ag-
nella starts up with a scream.

"Angelo, my Angelo, what is it?"

The cry and its response wake An-
gelo from the ecstatic vision, and
bring back his thoughts to his spo-
sina. There is a world of longing
and tenderness in his voice, which
grows soft and melting as he mur-
murs :

"Agnella, my own! "

He clasps the terrified maiden in
his trembling arms and presses her to
his heart. When the other members
of the family appear, with lights and
wondering ej^es, they see the two
standing by the old fireplace, and
giving vent to their overwrought feel-
ings in a flood of silent tears.

Angelo and Agnella were looking
at the unfinished facade of Santa
Croce, and speculating on the effect
of the completed edifice. Then they
turned towards the large statue of
Dante in front of the church, which
had but recently been erected. At
la.st Angelo spoke.

" See, Agnella mia, how noble and
lofty the attitude is, and what power
and determination mark the face.
Our divine poet seems, even in the
marble, to assert his genius. That
imposing figure now reigns un-
checked in the ungrateful city which

once exiled her greatest son. Genius
always obtains its own in the end,
though great men often die before
they are understood and appreciated."

Agnella drew closer, and laid her
hand on Angelo's arm. She knew
what was passing in his mind, and
she shared his sorrow.

" Dear one," she murmured in her
soft, appealing voice, "does not suf-
fering enhance true greatness? "

Angelo's eyes sought hers with a
flash of jo3^

" True, sposina iiiia, thou hast said
what I needed to hear. Joy and
peace may perfect what is human
within us ; but only pain and conflict
can bring us nearer the divine. Let
us enter the church."

They mounted the steps and went
into the magnificent temple, so rich
in historic memories and art treas-
ures. They crossed themselves with
holy water, and knelt in prayer, while
a vague, religious hush came over
them. Slowly, they walked up the
wide nave, gazing round at the pic-
tures and statues, without stopping
to examine them.

" Come to the Bardi chapel," whis-
pered Angelo. " We will not look at
the other frescos to-day. They are
.so peaceful and heavenly, and I want
to see something human."

They pa.ssed before the high altar
and into the right transept, till they
came to the chapel which was built
by the noble family of the Bardi, and
decorated by Giotto with scenes from
the life of Saint Francis of Assisi.
It was the picture of the burial which
arrested Angelo's attention.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "that was
a saint indeed ! His dead face still
bears the impress of his lowly and
beautiful life. He was a saint be-

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

333

cause he chose for himself suffer-
ing and renunciation, and because,
through poverty and solitude, he
raised his soul to higher things than
the transitory joys of this world."

"How could he live without sym-
pathy and love?" sighed Agnella.
" It seems to me that I should die if
I were left alone without thee."

"Nay, my sweet one," answered
Angelo, "thou wouldst live and rise
as did the saint. The gentle Ag-
ndla} would become an Angela^' an
angel of peace and blessing. Thou
hast more strength than thou know-
est, my sposina, and sorrow will re-
veal it to thee. But," he added,
speaking more cheerfully, for he saw
tliat her eyes had filled with tears,
"let us hope that we may long be
spared to each other. We will leave
this grand church, which makes us
think of death, and go forth again
into the bright sunshine and the liv-
ing crowd of our fellow-men."

Ere they quitted the twilight of the
vast sanctuary, they paused a mo-
ment before the tomb of Michel-
angelo, an imposing monument, on
which Sculpture, Painting, and Ar-
chitecture mourn the great man
wliose bust is raised above their
heads, as his spirit now soars above
llie human semblances in which it
clothed itself. The rugged features
and stern, gloomy expression of his
famous namesake had always fasci-
nated Angelo with the prestige of
unparalleled excellence and uncon-
quered determination. Outside was
the gay multitude of those who had
left their homes to enjoy the Sunday
afternoon hours. They were hurrying
in all directions ; towards the Cascine

' lyamb.
■-Angel.

park, towards the galleries they could
that day visit free of charge, towards
the churches which invited them to
devotion. Angelo and his bride took
a turning which led to the Piazza
della Siguoria, with its massive town
hall and statue-filled portico. They
climbed the long, easy staircase of
the old palace of the Medici, and
wandered through the spacious corri-
dors antl well-stocked rooms of the
Ufhzi gallery. Scarcely a Sunday
passed on which they did not visit
either that collection or the one in
the Pitti palace. But each time they
saw new beauties in the familiar
masterpieces which had grown so
dear to them.

This time Angelo would not stop
to see the spiritualized Madonnas
and graceful holy families of the
Florentine painters. He only came
to a standstill before the famous
group of Niobe and her dying chil-
dren, that touching and dramatic
representation of pain in various
phases and forms of intensity. There
are times when we need to find in
Nature and Art the reflection of our
inner life, to see its sorrow or its joy
mirrored in the o1>jects around. So
it was with Angelo; and Agnella
understooil him. She, too, knew
what suffering meant, though for her
it was generally caused by her pas-
sionate sympathy with the trials of
her betrothed. While she looked at
the marble mother who beholds her
children die beneath the arrows of
the offended gods, Agnella thought
less of Niobe than of Angelo, who
saw his hopes and dreams blighted
by the short-sighted love of parents
and friends. Like the eldest Nio-
bide, all her solicitude was for the
wounded brother, and her own feel-

334

A SCUJ.PTOK'S DREAM.

ings were unremembered in her
eagerness to comfort him.

"Thou art young, Angelo, and
mayst yet live to be a great artist."

Angelo's only answer was to turn
his back on the hall of the Niobides
and stride into that of the "Dying
Alexander."

"Look at that face uplifted in
agony!" he said, pointing to the
time-stained bust of world-wide re-
nown. "It is the face of a young
man in the fullness of his strength ;
yet. he had conquered the world, be-.
fore his daj^s were cut off. Death
spares no man ; and those who would

Antique Bust of the Dying Alexander of Macedonia.

accomplish aught before they die
must begin while the power is theirs.
There is a death which is sadder
than that of the body, and which is
scarcely less frequent. It is that of
the soul. If an inspiration be al-
lowed to pass unheeded, it may never
return, and the light of genius may
be extinguished by the ordinary rou-
tine of a wasted life."

"Angelo," Agnella's voice was

low and earnest, "if thou art indeed

an artist, then God cannot mean thee

„to leave thy gift unused. There must

be some way out of the darkness."

"//I am an artist," repeated An-
gelo, musingly. "That was the
question I used to ask myself ; but
now — ' '

He stopped short, and threw back
his head. His gaze was riveted on
the lofty warrior's face in the anguish
of death.

"Now, Angelo )?iioV

" Now, when I stand before such a
masterpiece, an inward voice tells me
that I, too, could impart life and
beauty to the inanimate stone, that I
can claim fellowship with those who
wrought these sublime creations."

His face and bearing were eloquent
witness to the noble consciousness of
which he spoke. And Agnella knew
that he was not mistaken. Suddenly
he turned to her, with a line around
his mouth which reminded her of his
inflexible namesake.

" We cannot talk here ; it is nearly
four o'clock, and the galleries will
soon be closed. I have something to
tell thee which thou alone canst
know. Art thou too weary to walk
with me to the Piazzale Michel-
angelo? "

"I will go where thou wilt," an-
swered Agnella. "It is so good to

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

335

have thee all alone, and to see thee
as thou really art. How I pit}' those
maidens who were not betrothed in
their childhood, and who may never
go out with their fidanzato' only ! "

There was an angry glow on An-
gelo's cheek as he responded :

"Thou art treated too much like
the silly damsels who can only smile
and adorn themselves. In another
country, — say in England, — thou
couldst have rivaled the best and
most cultured of thy sex. Thou art
strong and capable, in spite of thy
sweetness; and some day, when thou
art mine forever, thou shalt show our
Italian tyrants what a free Florentine
lady may be. They shall then see
that Angelo Barichielli has learned
from the forestieri'- and their writings
that a true woman and wife may be a
real companion to the greatest of
men, without losing those feminine
virtues we hold so dear. ' '

It was not the first time that An-
gelo had spoken thus. Though his
words sounded to Agnella like the
expression of some dreamer's Utopia,
they painted a future for which she
longed as eagerly as he did himself.
They had, meanwhile, reached the
Ponte Vecchio, the quaint, old cov-
ered bridge lined with goldsmiths'
shops. Crossing it, they proceeded
along the grandly simple Via dei
Bardi, with its palaces belonging to
the gentry and nobility, and through
the poorer and livelier quarter of San
Nicole, to the gate of that name.
Thence they ascended, past the in-
teresting pre- Gothic church of San
Miniato, to the spacious terrace
known as the Piazzale Michelangelo,
— so called from a bronze copy of the

1 Betrothed.

2 Foreigners.

Michelangelo's David, in the National Museum, Florence.

" David," which stands in the centre.
They advanced to the stone parapet,
and, leaning on it, they looked down
on the fair picture spread out beneath
them. The wide plain of the Arno
stretched out for miles in front ; but
the mountains bounding it, and the
nearer hills of smiling Fiesole, looked
much closer than they really were,
in the deceptive clearness of the air.
The town itself extended in every di-
rection, a picturesque mass of houses
and public buildings. There were
two points to which the e3'e always
returned : the square, brown pile of
the Palazzo Vecchio, — the fine old
town hall, with its bold battlements
and its solid tower, from which, in
bygone days, the bell had often
sounded to call the turbulent Floren-
tines to arms ; and close beside it,
the vast cathedral and graceful bell
tower, a many-colored marvel of mar-
ble mosaic. From the Piazzale it-
self, the terraced slope descended to
the very banks of the wide and rapid

336

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

Arno, whose waters still retained, in
their earthy brown hue, a reminder
of the impetuous mountain torrents
that combine to form the rushing
stream. On the Lunj Arno opposite,
the fashionable walk of Florence,
a merry throng of citizens and
strangers were jostling together,
awaiting the return of the king and
queen from their drive in the Cascine.
Overhead was the calm blue sky,
which the setting sun was tinging
with pale yellow and vivid red. The
air seemed full of that exuberance of
life which brings to men a promise of
coming spring. Angelo threw out
his hands towards the city which has
been so justly named "The Beauti-
ful."

■' I love thee, O my Florence ! " he
exclaimed enthusiasticall3% "Like
the exiled Dante and the burning
Savonarola, I would fain see thee
perfect and a ruler among nations.
Of all Italian cities thou art the most
worthy to be the residence of our
elected king and his bride; they can
hold in thee a statelier court than at
Turin. Would that I might see thee
once more the home of widest liberty
and highest art ! Who in the past
could vie with thee in great and
noble sons? Where is now the race
of those that Raphael loved and lived
amongst ? Hast thou then ceased to
produce heroes and artists?"

" Thou art a son of Florence," said
Agnella, joyfully ; " thou wilt add to
her glory as did the men of yore."

Angelo sighed, and shook his head.

"I could, Agnella; but the world
will never know me. Yet I could —
oh, I feel it within me ! Like that
resolute young David who, unarmed
and unaided, conquered the mighty
Philistine with a shepherd's sling, I

could overcome the adverse circum-
stances which are banded against me,
by the sole force of \\\y inspiration.
Like the great sculptor who wrought
that wonderful figure from a shape-
less, discarded block of marble, I
could make a work of art from the
inner powers that are rejected as un-
profitable."

"And thou wilt do it, Angelo?
Oh, tell me that thou wilt! "

Angelo was silent.

"Angelo, viio, something has hap-
pened. A change has come over
thee. A new strength seems to have
entered th}^ soul, seeking to gain en-
tire possession of thee. Tell me
what it is. Thou hast shared with
me thy sorrow ; let me also share thy
joy."

Angelo looked like one inspired.
His voice had a ring of joy in it ; his
head was thrown back like that of a
conqueror.

"Thou art right, sposina iiiia.
Last Sunday, while thou wert plaj^-
ing, I saw before me the statue I
could make, and the idea, has re-
mained with me ever since. I will
carry it out."

"How, Angelo ))iioV

"At night, in the silence of my
own room. None shall know of it,
but thou only."

Agnella looked troubled and anx-
ious. Love opened her eyes to the
risks and difficulties, which Angelo
was determined to ignore.

" The hard work will be too much
for thee, especially during the hot
summer months. Why not tell thy
father ? "

"Thou knowest him, Agnella. He
would forbid me even to think of such
a thing. It is impossible ; thou must
keep my secret."

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

337

" I fear for Ihee, my own. No
man could endure the fatigue of such
a double life; the day's work is ex-
hausting enough, and thou hast need
of rest and sleep."

"Agnella!" exclaimed Angelo,
passionately. "Wilt thou also for-
sake me ? If I neglect the inspira-
tion, it will depart from me, and I
shall die to my true self, even while
continuing to live. Wouldst thou
have me lose my soul to spare my
body? Wouldst thou not rather have
me obey the artist's call within,
though I should die in the attempt ? ' '

And Agnella, with a true woman's
unselfish love, had the courage to
answer :

" Do as thou sayest at whatever
cost, and- God be with thee, my

Angelo ! ' '

VI.

Months have passed, and slowly
the young artist is realizing his
vision. First the cla)^ model has
come into existence, and has been
followed by the plaster cast. Then
he has obtained a block of pure Car-
rara marble from his kind godfather ;
and while others slept, he has dili-
gently applied the knowledge ac-
quired in the sculptor's workshop.
Even Agnella is not to see the work
until it is complete. Barichielli and
and Corvetti misinterpret the glow of
inspiration on the lofty brow and in
the shining eyes. They think that
business capacity has at length got
the better of what, to them, are but
foolish fancies. Their wives mistake
the hectic flush for the hue of health,
and the proud bearing for the nat-
ural development of the graceful
young body. They begin to talk in
whispers of a wedding in the near

future ; Angelo is twenty, Agnella
sixteen ; the girl's education is fin-
ished, the boy is well started in life —
what need is there of further de-
lay? There is, in the Palazzo, an
apartment which will be vacant in
April. Already the cold winds of
autumn are blowing the leaves from
the trees ; a few more months will
pass, and then — ah ! fond mothers,
man proposes, but God disposes !

Agnella alone is anxious ; it grows
daily harder for her to keep the
promise she gave her betrothed as
they stood together on the Piazzale
Michelangelo. Her faithful, tender
heart is heav}^ with dark forebodings.
Angelo scarcely sleeps ; he works all
day, and he works half the night.
Often he is silent and absorbed ; at
other times his enthusiasm knows no
bounds. His anticipations end with
the completion of his statue ; beyond
that, all is a blank. Yet he laughs
at his spositia's fears, and fondly
kisses the tears from her eyes. But
he himself knows that his strength is
rapidly giving way ; sometimes he
even wonders whether he wall be able
to finish his statue. Often, when the
old palazzo is hushed into deep .slum-
ber, his trembling hand has refused
to guide the chisel, while a sharp
pain in his chest and a gasping for
breath have warned him that he
was overtaxing his physical powers.
Lately, these attacks of pain have
been followed by a racking cough ;
and each time that he has put up his
hand to smother the sound, he has
been startled b}' the sight of blood on
his pahn. He remembers how he
said to Agnella :

"Wouldst thou not have me obey
the artist's call within, though I
should die in the attempt? "

338

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

Then he did not realize what death
really meant — jio7c it is becoming
something more than a remote possi-
bility, and at times a great fear comes
over him, fear of the unknown fu-
ture life which no human mind can
fathom or understand. Then his
whole being revolts from the thought
that his days are to be numbered
while he is yet on the threshold of
his youth and vigor, while life is full
of promise, and there is so much of
strength and power all untried within
him. -Alas! it is hard to die at
twenty, when one first begins to grow
conscious of all that one might have
been ! And for Angelo the anticipa-
tion of death is increased in bitter-
ness when he pictures Agnella's sor-
row and loneliness, so different from
the bright dream of married bliss
which has smiled on both from their
childhood.

But the artist's call is imperative,
and may not be left unanswered.
The vision of beauty which has sunk
into his soul must be wrought into
the expression which Angelo alone
can give it. Should he not rejoice
that he may bring to the world one
more message from the unseen realms
of art, with whatever sacrifice he is
to repay the privilege thus granted
him? Besides, this phantom which
haunts him may be merely the result
of his constant excitement and ten-
sion, which will cease when the work
is done ; it may be that the summer
heat and the accounts in his father's
office have wearied his brain and
weakened his self-control. So An-
gelo struggles bravely against the
all-invading langour which threatens
to gain the mastery over him, while
Agnella prays longer and more fer-
vently before the little Madonna he

has wrought for her, and keeps his
secret locked in her heart.

VII.

The last touches are being given.
In his eagerness, Angelo forgets his
customary caution, and lets the mal-
let ring audibly on the sensitive
chisel. The dawn is breaking in the
east ; before the day has come, the
statue will be finished. It is a
strange thought that the work into
which he has put his whole soul
since that winter evening, that Sun-
day, months ago, when the vision
was revealed to him — that work,
which is the expression of his inmost
being, is approaching completion.
What will follow? Can he ever pro-
duce another? Will the inspiration
come again? And Angelo pauses,
wondering. Now that it is nearly
done, he is overcome by the weari-
ness and lassitude which he has so
long forced back. His eyes are
heavy ; his knees tremble ; his hand
sinks down by his side. Courage !
A few more almost imperceptible
touches, and the statue is perfect !
The light of dawn deepens ; it near-
ly equals that of the burning lamp.
Soon Agnella will come. She knows
this is the day on which she is to be-
hold the ideal figure that has taken
he?' form, and she will rise early to
see it! vSweet Agnella ! How he
loves her ' He longs to see her. She
will, doubtless, dissipate the chill
creeping round his heart and the
cloud obscuring his sight. The mar-
ble is cold and silent ; but she is
warm and loving, she will be as the
rosy Aurora beside the preceding
grayness of dawn. How lovely she
looked last night ; how clinging was
her embrace ! They neither of them

A SCULPTOR'S DREAM.

339

felt as if the}' covild part ; and yet it
was but for a night. At length he
kissed her pure young brow, and
murmured :

"God bless thee, my Agnella ! "

She was frightened ; it seemed so
solemn. She encircled him with her
soft arms, and said :

"When it is finished, thou must
be my own Angelo again ! "

And he answered :

' ' Thine own forever, Agnella
mia ! ' '

' What made him speak like that ?
-What makes him long for her now
with such unspeakable longing ?

It has been a strange night.
Under the influence of a sudden im-
pulse, he knelt down to confess his
sins as before communion ; and he
prayed long and earnestly ere he re-
turned to the marble. He has lived
through scene after scene of his child-
hood ; but he cannot look forward to
the future. He now feels pure and
peaceful, as he did on the day of his
first communion. It is strange — and
he • longs for the light, which will
bring Agnella to him.

N-ow it is done. He scarcely dares
to look up. The chisel falls from his
hand, as he sinks on his knees. A
ray of sunlight glides into the room,
and rests on the completed statue.
Yes ! it is what he saw that Sunday
night, and it is beautiful. He gazes
with awe-struck delight. Is that in-
deed the work of his hands? He is
too weary to be exultant ; but he is
happy, deeply happy. The figure is
like Agnella, but more ethereal, more
angelic. Will she look like that
when he sees her next? And his
parents, his sister, the madtina, her
husband, their eldest daughter, his
godfather, the young artists, his

friends, his namesake — the great
Michelangelo. What was he think-
ing of? He shivers, and again gazes
up at his statue. It grows dim, while
another vision rises up before him, a
vision of transcendent loveliness.
But before he can grasp it, his eyes
have closed, and with a gentle sigh
he has sunk forward, till his head is
pillowed on the marble pedestal.

The work is finished — yes — but at
what cost !

VIII.

A light step is coming along the
stone passage. The door opens, and
Agnella advances timidly, then stops
motionless. Before her is a wonder-
ful work of art. She knows the
theme : Genius bursting its bonds.
In the white marble she sees her own
image, refined of all its human im-
perfection, clad in a simple robe
whose transparent folds are caught
by the air, which is stirred by the
upward motion. One hand is held
out, as if in help, towards the earth,
while the other 'is' raised 'as in
ecstacy. The feet scarcely touch the
ground, and the whole figure soars
toward heaven, away from the broken
fetters which have fallen from it.
The face is of indescribable beauty,
and so spiritualized that the delicate
features def)^ criticism. The lips are
parted with an awakening smile ; the
ej'es seem to pierce into the loftiest
heights of the infinite. Trul}^ it is
genius bursting its bonds and soaring
heavenwards, pure and beautiful.

Agnella gazes spellbound and
speechless, and does not at first no-
tice the dark heap at the foot of the
statue. But presently a terrible
shriek is borne through the silence,
and her unconscious form is resting

340

A SCULPIOR'S DREAM.

on the sculptor's bod5^ Those who
lieard the cry and hurried to the spot,
saw a statue of uuearthl}^ beauty, be-
neath which lay two sleepers, as still
as the marble and nearly as white.
They« knew too late how real had
been the artistic instincts of their be-
loved Michelangelo. They felt that
genius had indeed burst its bonds,
for the spirit of the young sculptor
had been breathed in all its fullness
into his work, and with its comple-
tion his genius had broken its earthly
fetters and left its earthly home.

IX.

When Agnella awoke from that
death-like swoon, she fell into a state
of such absolute prostration that
those who watched beside her feared
for her life. But she came slowly
l)ack to health ; and then it was that
the strength Angelo had seen in her
])ecame manifest to all. The gentle
Agnella grew indeed into an angel of
mercy and love. She imparted to
those who were in sorrow or bereave-
ment some of the serenity she had
herself acquired. She slowl}' broke
through the wall of prejudice and
narrowness which hemmed her in,
making for herself such a position as
her Angelo would have desired. She
read the books he had loved, sought
to gain the culture he had dreamed
for her, filled her days with interests
conformed to his ideal of what she
was to become. While living alone
with the sacred memories of her
youth, she contrived to shed \oy and
brightness on the path of many an-
other, lyittle children gave their
sweet confidence and unbounded
affection in exchange for her tender
love. Young girls sought in her
the loving guidance she was so well

able to give them. Older people
found in her lofty calm a relief from
their own anxieties and restlessness.
All loved and blessed her as she
passed through their midst ; and
when they saw the restful smile on
her earnest, sympathetic face, they
felt that in spite of the sorrow which
could never be taken from her, Ag-
nella's life was one of deep, abiding-
happiness.

Two decades have passed since, at
the foot of his finished statue, the
young sculptor fell into the slumber
that knows no awakening. The
stately "Lily of the Plain" is re-
splendent with the gladness of re-
turning spring ; but a hush of sad-
ness has fallen on her joyous chil-
dren, for the graceful form which
trod the earth as with angel's feet is
seen no more among them. It is
stretched in solemn beauty on a
snowy couch, more still than the
drooping flowers around it. There
she lies at rest, the sweet and lovely
Agnella, like a marble image of gen-
tleness and purity. The features are
transfigured by a look of such unfad-
ing peace as even they never wore,
while the deep, smiling eyes are full
of life and light beneath the shading
lashes. Those who mourn for her
might almost think she slept, were it
not for that indescribable beauty of
death, which makes them feel how
great is the distance between the
loved one who always responded so
tenderly to every word and look, and
that silent image of what she once
has been. One of the sorrowful
band of mourners, a boj^ of brightest
promise — Angelo's nephew, and a
sculptor like him, but a sculptor

THE SHATTERED HILL

341

with his parents' help and sanction
— moves silently away from the mo-
tionless figure, and draws aside a
curtain from the niche in which
stands Angelo's wondrous statue.

"See," he murmurs, in a hushed
voice, pointing to the soaring figure
of "Genius Disenthralled," "see
how the two faces resemble each
other."

All present turn to the marble, and
thence again to the frail and waxen

body whence the soul has fled. A
great awe thrills them into silence,
for on the beautiful dead face is the
same heavenly, ethereal expression
of unearthly loveliness which was
imparted, years ago, to the spiritual-
ized image of his beloved by the dy-
ing sculptor, whose noble soul had
been breathed into that one supreme
realization of the artistic ideal which
a true artist will die rather than re-
linquish.

THE SHATTERKD HUEE.

By F. Harper Swift.

Down on the beach, where the tides run low,
Guarded and watched by the gray sea-gull,

Lashed by the tides as they come and go,
Spoil of the sea, lies the shattered hull.

Daily the children climb its side

To peer deep into its hollow eyes
And beat on its bosom broad and wide,

Awaken its echoes with merry cries.

On the strand of life lies a storm-wrecked heart
Which once in its strength bore a world along,

But, sorrow-embittered, it fell apart,

The victim of grief and grinding wrong.

Daily the children of man pass there.
Awaken its echoes with taunting cries,

But once as I paused I heard a prayer,

And I thought that the echoes broke forth in sighs.

MOUNT WASHINGTON IN WINTER.

By J. M. Cooper.

■|(c ^""I- 3^N the depths of winter a
colder or more dreary
spot than the summit of
Mount Washington, it
would indeed be hard
to conjecture. With its 6,293 feet of
grandeur, and surrounded on all
sides by the minor peaks of the
rugged White Mountains of New
Hampshire, it is a target for every
storm and a great playground for the
fierce blasts of the winter winds.
Gathering their forces together at
every posssible point in this region
of high altitudes, they swoop down
on the summit of the monarch of
the Presidential range with a ve-
locity that has been known to reach
nearly two hundred miles an hour,
and a force that would be irresistible
but for the impenetrable mass of
granite that has withstood the rav-
ages of centuries. The cold is in-
tense, and almost beyond imagina-
tion, the mercury having been known
to reach fifty degrees below zero,
while it seldom rises over thirty be-
low. Icicles of the most fantastic
description hang from ever}' available
rock and every corner of the half a
dozen or more buildings comprised
in the little village on the highest
point of the peak, and remind the
visitor forcibly of the fairy tales of
old. Yet with all these conditions
very little snow is found on the top
in winter, the heavy winds scattering
it in all directions and piling it in

such huge masses against the hotel
and other structures as to almost hide
them from view. Standing on the
summit and gazing on the immense
valley below, scarcely recognizable
under its white mantle, with hardly
a trace of life apparent, the feeling of
desolation and loneliness is intensi-
fied a hundred fold.

It is difficult to believe that for
several winters the summit of Mount
Washington was occupied by the
hardy fellows who risk their lives
and sacrifice their personal comforts
and pleasures in the cause of science
under the title of Signal Service
Corps. Winter after winter, with in-
domitable courage, they dwelt in the
little building depicted in the illus-
trations which accorripany this arti-
cle, their "living tomb" as they
humorously designated their lofty
residence. It was a model of com-
fort compared with the structure in
which the observers made their home
the first winter they took possession
of the peak. That was in 1871, and
an old engine house was patched up
to meet their requirements. Many a
tale is told of the sufferings they en-
dured that winter. Almost all the
time, with a red-hot stove in the cen-
tre of their narrow quarters, it was
impossible to keep their feet warm
except by placing them on the rounds
of the chairs, and water was known
to freeze on the floor with that same
stove red hot and several thicknesses

MOUNT WASHINGTON IN WINTER.

343

of carpet on the former. It was a
sojourn long to be remembered.

So little consideration was shown
these brave fellows by congress, that
the small sum appropriated by it for
the purpose of erecting a new station
was insufficient to meet the cost, and
the signal service men were com-
pelled to take up their residence in it
in an uncompleted state. The floor
was perfectly open underneath, and
the cold winds were allowed full play.
The boards composing the floor were
laid in a green state, so that when
they became dry they cracked and
left wide openings, through which
the icy air entered most noticeably,
and a bucket of water placed be-
tween two red-hot stoves is known to
have turned into ice as it stood there.

On another occasion the summit
was visited by a terrific wind-storm
that threatened to sweep the station
out of existence. The heavy wood
and thick wire braces strained and
tugged at their moorings, and the
observers made every preparation for
deserting the place and attempting to
reach the hotel. After recording a
velocity of 150 miles, the anemometer
was swept away, but by other instru-
ments the wind was ascertained to
attain a speed of nearly two hundred
miles. The building withstood the
shock, but the afternoon and evening
of February 26, 1886, will never be
effaced from the memory of the little
band who expected every moment to
be plunged into the valley of death.

Once in every two weeks, if the
weather would permit, by turns, one
of the two observers or the cook ( for
that was the size of the force) would
walk to the base for the mail, and it
can easily be imagined with what
eagerness the news from the outside

world would be received. The men
were furnished with several daily
papers and the leading magazines
and periodicals, while a good-sized
library of all kinds of literature was
kept in the station for their enter-
tainment. Communication with the
base was maintained by telephone
and telegraph, and the return trip
was never made without first obtain-
ing from the observer left behind, his
opinion as to the safeness of the ven-
ture, for sudden storms were very
frequent.

Leading such a sedentary life, a
strict regime had to be maintained on
the score of health. Meals were
served at regular periods, and fines
were imposed on the cook if he was
later than ten minutes of the time
prescribed, and on the observers if
they failed to appear at table without
first giving notice of their intention.
Chess, checkers, and cards filled in a
portion of the time, but these in turn
became wearisome, and there were
times when the little band expe-
rienced keenly their lonely posi-
tion. Occasionally an adventuresome
stranger would drop in, and then life
would become brighter and the
change be cordially welcome, but
such visits were rare on account of
the inaccessibility of the peak.

The station was established with
the idea that premonition of ap-
proaching storms could be obtained
before they reached the valleys be-
low, but the tests of several years did
not bear out the theory. The station,
however, was by no means useless,
for the signal service men procured
much meteorological data that could
not have been otherwise secured.
For the past few years, the station
has been tenantless in winter. It is

344 ^-^ PLEA FOR OUR ROCKS.

still viewed with curiosity in sum- House, erected in 1853, which is

mer, however, by the host of visitors, pictured on the cover, and which

who ascend by the unique cog rail- has been long supplanted by the

road, as is the original Tip-Top more modern Summit House.

A PIvEA FOR OUR ROCKS.

By Laura D. NicJiols.

What should we do without the good, gray rocks

So freely strewn on pasture, hill, and field?
May we not count them 'mong the useful crops

Our sandy, stern, reluctant acres yield?
We want foundations for our house or barn.

We need but choose which ledge upon the hill.
And there 's the clean, tough granite at command.

For but a few hours' work with wedge and drill.
A doorstep wide, a hearthstone for our fire ;

A solid base for Father's monument;
We find them all upon our own domain.

Yet seldom own that they are heaven-sent,
As are the streams that quench our noonday thirst,

And give refreshment to our cows and sheep,
And are themselves tenfold more beautiful.

For the gray rocks o'er which they foam and leap.
Our wells, our walls, our bridges, and our mills.

To granite owe their strength and beauty, too ;
And 3'et we grumble at our rocky fields, —

Our sons desert them, and their friends are few.
Few, but devoted ; children love them well.

And use them in a hundred happy plays ;
The squirrel nests below in winter cold,

And cracks his nuts above in sunny days.
The whistling quail will flute there by the hour;

The circling hawk will rest his weary wing ;
The green-gray lichen 'broiders every side;

Red columbines in frost-cleft fissures swing;
And many exiled hearts on Western plains.

Too late their rugged beauty understand.
And in their homesick dreams recall with tears

The great rock's shadow in a weary land.

THE THOMPSONIAN INFIRMARY, CONCORD.

HE good old family doc-
tor, who is frequently
charged with incom-
petency when his pa-
tients fail to recover
from their ailments as rapidly as
they might wish, and who has to
share, so often with Nature the
credit where his skill and watch-
fulness have pointed the path to
returning health, has had to con-
tend in all ages with the charlatan
and the quack. The illiteracy of the
latter has been no bar to his accept-
ance even by the most intelligent of
people, and the more glaring the im-
position, the more fervent has been
the defense of the impostor. While
mau}^ of the new methods of conquer-
ing disease have been short-lived,
there was one scheme of therapeutics,
born in ignorance, which thrived in
New England for nearly twenty-five
years, in the early part of this cen-
tury. It spread like an epidemic
over the entire United States, but its
birthplace was New Hampshire and
the centre of its radiation was New
England. Contemporaneous with
the period when the root and herb
doctor, "Nature's healer" in the
person of the Indian medicine man,
was popular, this school of "botanic
physicians," so called, invaded every
community, sold rights to practise,
established infirmaries, and began a
veritable crusade against the ' ' book
doctors." In the words of Samuel

Thomson, the founder of the new
gospel of cure, "Study is no more
necessary for a doctor than for a
cook," and the beneficiaries of the
treatment were immediately started
out as disciples and practitioners of
the Thomsonian art of healing.

Rights to practise were sold for
$20 each, and the "poison doc-
tors," as the regular practitioners
were called, were soon to be driven
from the field. Thompsonian in-
firmaries were started in central lo-
calities, to which the afflicted were
invited, and students were solicited
on liberal terms, the essential qualifi-
cation of the applicant for matricula-
tion being that he should possess
' ' common sense. ' ' The regular doc-
tors were challenged to meet the
Thompsonians in public debate, the
newspapers contained columns of ad-
vertisements of cures and testimoni-
als, and not even the untimely death
of patients treated by these unskilful
hands seemed to alia}' the craze for
"Nature's remedies." Steam, lobelia
emetics, and hot drops Were applied
indiscriminately for consumption, pa-
ralysis, asthma, mumps, heart disease,
rheumatism, and accidents, and if a
patient survived this drastic external
and internal cleaning, he was assured
that the mercury that the "poison
doctors" had put into his system
had been forced out of it and he was
now on the high road to recovery.
All attempts to expose this medical

1 This interesting article is taken from data collected for Senator Gallinger to be used in the prejiaratiGn of
that part of the History of Concord devoted to the medical profession, and is edited by James 0. Lyford, sec-
retary of the History Commission.

346

THE THOMPSON/AN INFIRMARY, CONCORD.

fake were met with cries of persecu-
tion, and so it continued year after
year, sustained by the money of the
ignorant and the testimonials of the
intelligent. It was only after many
deaths that the public realized that
even "Nature's remedies" in igno-
rant hands were quite as dangerous
as the alleged poisons of the regular
physicians.

The originator, inventor, and pat-
entee of the Thomsonian theory of
medical practice was Samuel Thom-
son, who was born in Alstead, this
state, February 9, 1769. His early
life was one of hardships and priva-
tions. As a boy, he resided in a
sparsely-settled district, a distance
of several miles from the nearest
country doctor, and the neighbors
were largely dependent in case of
sickness upon the ministrations of
some kind "mother in Israel," who
treated them with roots and herbs.
Thomson early became interested
from watching these women as they
were called in to his own family and
those of the neighbors, and was led
to take a particular interest in wild
plants that he found in the fields,
lobelia inflata, a species of the tobac-
co plant, being the chief remedy in
his pharmacopoeia.

While working on the farm as a
young man, he began doctoring in
the neighborhood, and in the course
of his experiments tried steam baths
as a remedy for certain diseases.
After .several years' practice in his
own neighborhood, he extended the
field of his operations and became a
traveling doctor. He visited other
parts of New Hampshire, and trav-
eled in Vermont, Maine, and Massa-
chusetts. In 1813, he obtained a
patent for his sy.stem of practice.

which secured to him the exclusive
right to u.se certain medical prepara-
tions. He published a pamphlet con-
taining an account of the principles
and practice of his system, with direc-
tions for using his medicines. These,
with the right to use the preparations
according to his directions, he sold for
$20. By this scheme, every familj^
purchasing a right could forever dis-
pense with other medical services.
In a .sketch of his life, which he him-
self had prepared in 1825, it appears
that never was medical treatment so
successful before. Fevers, rheuma-
tism, pleurisy, consumption, cancers,
and broken bones, all j^ielded to this
new method and were cured. His
name became a household word.
Man}' disciples sought his instruc-
tion, and so popular had become his
methods that he was frequently in
the courts to defend his patent right
from infringement by those who saw
in it an opportunit}^ for making an
easy livelihood. He was a man of
no education, and whatever books or
treatises appeared in his name were
written by others. He was once
arrested for murder, the charge being
that he had killed a patient by un-
skilful treatment. At the trial he
was acquitted, the judge charging
the jury that to constitute the crime
of murder it was necessary to show
intent to kill, and Thomson's intent
evidently was to save life and not to
destroy it. The excitement incident
to his arrest and trial led to legisla-
tion in several of the .states in re-
straint of quackery.

Among the disciples of Samuel
Thomson was one Benjamin Thomp-
son, a native of Andover, this .state,
who, with two brothers, Charles and
Jesse, were for a number of years

THE THOMPSON! AN INFIRMARY, CONCORD.

347

well advertised in this and other
states as Thonisouiau doctors.
When or where Benjamin Thompson
first became acquainted with the
founder of this theory of medical
practice, is not known. How long a
time he spent in Samuel Thomson's
laboratory, or how extensive were
his readings of the few published
works of the botanic phj^sicians, is
equally a mystery, but in April,
1832, he established an infirmary at
the corner of Mount Vernon and
Charles streets, Boston ; and in the
New Hampshire Patriot of June 9,
1834, appears an advertisement more
than half a column in length, signed
by him as a botanic physician, in
which he calls attention to his infirm-
ar)' in Boston, and claims to have ad-
ministered upwards of 2,000 courses
of medicine to more than 1,500 pa-
tients, and to have had only one
death during that time.

Benjamin Thompson w^as born
about 1790. He was a handsome
man, of prepossessing appearance.
He had few school advantages, but
was apt in observ^ation, quick to
learn, and entirel}^ self-reliant. Pos-
sessing a heavy voice and a clear
articulation, he was an impressive
personage, especially among the ig-
norant. He had a pavSsion for gam-
ing, and was throughout life a pro-
fessional gambler, who frequently
W'On large sums of money, which he
dispensed with a lavish hand. At
other times, he passed a somewhat
precarious existence, migrating from
place to place with no settled occupa-
tion. At the age of twenty-two, he
became acquainted with a very at-
tractive 3'oung lady in New York,
w^hom he is supposed to have mar-
ried. The fruit of that marriage was

a son who, when a young man, in a
fit of despondency, committed sui-
cide. Thompson's first wife died a
few 3-ears after their marriage. In
1 8 19, he became acquainted with a
young lady residing in Hopkinton,
who was then the belle of society in
that section of the state. She was
twenty-eight years of age, and is de-
scribed as self-willed, proud, and
handsome. Thompson represented
himself as being wealthy, retired,
and living in New York, and offer-
ing himself in marriage, was ac-
cepted. The denouement which fol-
lowed was a terrible blow to her.
vShe was too proud, however, to re-
turn to her home and admit her mis-
take, and after some deliberation, she
determined to stake her fortunes with
those of her husband. For the next
fifteen 3'ears, probably no two per-
sons in the country, as husband and
wife, ever led such a variegated life.
They lived in New York city, Bos-
ton, Montpelier, Burlington, Albany,
Trenton, Philadelphia, Baltimore,
Washington, and other large places,
sometimes enjoying all the luxuries
that money could provide and at
other times being driven from house
and home and living in abject pov-
ert3^ They frequently quarreled,
and several times separated. About
the time they came to Concord, in
1834, Mrs. Thompson left her hus-
band for the last time, returning to
the home of her father in Hopkinton,
at which place she resided until the
day of her death, which occurred
January 17, 1876, she having reached
the advanced age of eighty-five years.
Thompson is said to have died in
New York nearly half a century ago.
In the Ne7v Hampshire Patriot of
October 13, 1834, will be found a

348

THE THOMPSON/AN INFIRMARY, CONCORD.

column advertisemeut or proclama-
tion from this same Benjamin Thomp-
son, botanic physician, announcing
his coming to Concord. The intro-
duction of this advertisement is as
follows :

" Salus populi est suprema lex."

"To the whole of the United States in gen-
eral and to the worthy and independent citi-
zens of New Hampshire in particular, in the
name of common sense, Amen."

In this advertisement Benjamin
Thompson saj^s that he has long and
successfully labored with the great
founder of the botanic system, Dr.
Samuel Thomson, to bring about
an entire revolution in the medical
world. He declares that medical
poisons are now nearly driven from
the field of Boston, and the daily
crowded state of the Thompsonian
infirmary in that city gives glorious
promise that the triumphs of botan-
ical practice will soon be ' ' entire and
complete."

"Deplorable and highly reprehensible igno-
rance," he remarks, "joined to proverbial lazi-
ness and heartless peculation, are the known
crying sins of the regular medical facultj'.
Regular indeed may they well be called, for they
regularly either kill with the lancet or poison
with mercury more than one half of their un-
fortunate dupes. . . . Many important let-
ters from regular poison doctors craving most
humbly to become partners of Dr. Benjamin
Thompson, will be exhibited to the good citi-
zens of Concord. Dr. Thompson is well aware
that the medical hornets will immediately
leave their holes to swarm about the banner of
Thompsonianism. This banner, however, will
be found hornet proof, calomel proof, and
M. D. proof. ... A favor he will value
taken from their hands is that some one
deputed by the Medical Society of New
Hampshire meet a Thompsonian in public
debate in Concord on the several claims
of mineral poisons and botany. Should the
New Hampshire faculty back out, as Dr.
Thompson is much afraid they will, on the
ground that their nominee cannot meet any
other than a regularly graduated physician, he
begs leave to address words of consolation to
that nominee thus :

" Fret not thy gizzard.

" In coming to Concord from Boston, Dr.
Benjamin Thompson announces that he did so-
exclusively for the purpose of health, rest, and
retirement. His labors have already been re-
warded by competency, and, if money were his
only object, the Southern states would have
been chosen as the fields of his future labors."

To prevent any misconception that
his work is philanthropic, he an-
nounces that no accounts will be
opened. Payments must in all cases
be made in advance, but where the
account is considerable, for the con-
venience of patients, notes wnll be
taken as securities.

He appears to have met with im-
mediate success. His infirmary was
crowded, and within a year he was
obliged to enlarge his establishment.
In September, 1835, the New Hamp-
shire Patriot contains a prospectus of
the "Concord Botanic Infirmary," as
it was then designated. This pros-
pectus gives a good description of the
buildings and the grounds, and con-
veys some idea of the extent of the
craze for botanical treatment which
at that time had taken possession of
the people. It says :

" The infirmary with all its pertaining build-
ings, its garden, arbory, side, and central walks
for health and recreation, occupies an area of
about ten acres, all in one enclosure. The
whole is bounded on the front by the west side
of Main street, and by Green [probably South],
Thompson, and Cross streets on the other
sides. The proprietor was obliged to purchase
three noble estates that this great establish-
ment for the cure of actual and incipient dis-
eases might express every requisite object.
The principal edifice is on Main street, encir-
cled by a piazza about 400 feet in length, with
an observatory and cupola in the centre. Near-
ly 200 feet are reserved for front parlors, with
.sleeping rooms in the rear, and well-ventilated
chambers. The prospect from every part of
the infirmary is pleasant and gratifying, but
from the observatory it is sublime, beautiful,
and picturesque beyond description. Below
the cupola is a parlor, called for distinction the

THE THOMPSON/AN INFIRMARY, CONCORD.

349

•Centre parlor, about 30 feet square and 40 feet
in height, with 16 windows and four glass doors
opening to all sides of the piazza. In this par-
lor no dog days are felt or thought of. Dr.
Thompson has a number of horses and easy
pleasure carriages of the first quality for the
gratuitous use of his patients for morning and
evening rides. The vicinity affords many that
are retired, shady, and delightsome, and the
chief seat of the respectable societj- of Shakers
is only about ten miles distant, where he will
also carry his patients, free of expense, in two
or four horse carriages, to see their beautiful
village, garden, and manufactories."

This group of buildings stood di-
rectly' south of the preseut residence
of Hon. B. A. Kimball, which at
that time was used as a residence
by Mr. Thompson. Mr. Kimball's
house was built in 1825, by Samson
Bullard, the keystone disclosed by
alterations since made, giving the
date of its erection. The .shape of
the roof was different at that time,
and there was no tower on the house.
It was connected with the infirmary'
by a bridge, which formed an arch
ov.er the driveway leading into the
grounds.

At that time there were no build-
ings in that part of the city on the
east side of Main street to interrupt
the view of the river and the sur-
rounding country. Standing upon
Mr. Kimball's terrace to-day and
looking north and east, one can read-
ily imagine the attractiveness of the
location. There was an uninter-
rupted view of the Merrimack cours-
ing through the valley, the distant
hills being still covered with their
original growth of wood and timber.
The grounds were laid out, as
Thompson describes, into a garden,
an arbor, and side and central walks,
and for about two years the infirmary
was crowded with patients. It was
not alone the ignorant who patron-
ized his establishment. He num-

bered among his patients some of the
most prominent citizens of the town,
who not only showed their faith in
his methods by submitting them-
selves to his treatment, but also gave
testimonials to the accuracy of his
claims, as the advertisements in the
N'ezi' Hampshire Patriot of those days
will show. Branch infirmaries were
located in other towns of the state,
and students enrolled themselves at
the principal infirmary at Concord
and were sent out, after a few weeks'
instruction, to practise in more dis-
tant towns.

The Concord infirmary was fitted
up with steam baths, and if the pa-
tients presented a more cleanly ap-
pearance after being boiled in the in-
firmary and wondered at the white-
ness and delicac}' of their skins, they
were informed b}- Thompson that it
was due to getting the mercury out
of them which the ' ' poison doctors ' "
had for years been putting into their
systems. One good old orthodox
minister, who resided in an adjoining
town and who had made an ex-
chano^e with one of his Concord
brethren, arrived at the infirmary
late one Saturday night, suffering
from a severe cold. He asked
Thompson if he could steam the cold
out of him so that he would be able
to preach the next day, and was
somewhat shocked when Thompson,
in his profane way, informed him
that he (^ould ' ' steam hell and dam-
nation out of him."

The Thompsonians had a kind of
hot drops which they applied with or
without alcohol, according to the de-
sire of the patient. These created
the internal heat which the}- consid-
ered .so essential to the cure of a suf-
ferer. The original Thomson said

350

THE THOMPSON/AN INFIRMARY. CONCORD.

that he had discovered that man was
composed of four elements — earth,
fire, water, and air. The first two
constituted the substance of the ma-
chine and the last two kept it in mo-
tion. Heat, he ascertained, is life,
and cold is death. The stomach is a
furnace and food the fuel in health —
in disease, assisted by medicine.
Like a fireplace or stovepipe, the
stomach was liable to get clogged up
and needed cleaning out. All dis-
ea.se is caused by filthy accumula-
tions, and the act of cure consi.sts in
removing such accumulations and
cleaning the machine. As minerals
are not generally combustible, he
concluded that they were unfit for
fuel in the stomach, and, therefore,
.should not be used as medicines.
All of his medical efforts and those of
his disciples were directed to main-
tain or increase the internal heat or
life, as he called it, and he supposed
that whenever this internal heat be-
came reduced as low as the external
temperature, the machine must cease
to move and the patient die. Hence,
the hot drops were used to intensify
the internal heat, the lobelia to purify
the system, and the steam baths to
wash awa}^ mercurial secretions which
were forced to the surface by this
drastic treatment.

It was in vain that the regular
physicians warned the public against
these ignorant methods. It was not
until some of the victims were left
too long in the steam boxes and were
overdone that the popularity of the
Thomsonian method began to
wane. Whether it was from the de-
cline of his business or from other
causes, or from all combined, Ben-
jamin Thomp.son disappeared about
1837, and, according to all accounts,

reached New York, where he soon
after died.

In February, 1837, his brother,
Charles Thompson, in an advertise-
ment in the Ne^w Hampshire Patriot,
informs the public that he has taken
the commodious and finely-situated
mansion on Main street, recently re-
fitted, enlarged and ornamented by
his brother, Dr. Benjamin Thomp-
son, and lately occupied by him, and
known as the ' ' Concord Botanic In-
firmary." From this advertisement
it is apparent that botanic treatment
was on the ebb, for Dr. Charles
Thompson announces that,

"Without interfering at all with the hotels
and public houses in town, he proposes to keep
a private boarding-house upon an extensive
scale, where those who may dislike the pub-
licity of an inn may be accommodated with
good and quiet living upon moderate terms.
Travelers likewise with families, who may be
visiting Concord, will be accommodated with
separate apartments for a longer or shorter
time, on most reasonable terms. A neat and
excellent steam apparatus will be always kept
in readiness for those of the boarders and
others whenever they may feel inclined to in-
dulge in steam bathing."

As an incident to his quiet home
for travelers, he sa^-s that in another
and distant part of the same estab-
lishment are accommodations for in-
valids who may wish to be carried
through a regular course of botanic
medicine. He says that he has on
hand

"a selected assortment of botanic medicines in
all their variety, together with the writings of
the most approved authors upon the botanic
system, and that those who may feel inclined
to convince themselves in regard to the merit
of the botanic system will be readily furnished
with the full information at this establishment."

From this time forward, the "Con-
cord Botanic Infirmary" became less
and less an object of public inter-
est. Throughout the state there was

THE THOMPSON/AN INFIRMARY. CONCORD.

351

a marked falling off of patrons and
the infirmaries ceased to exist as
hospitals. The hot drops continued
for some time a home remedy for
chills, colds, and fevers, but the
botanic physician became a thing of
the past, and lobelia gave place to
simpler and more specific remedies,
administered b\' more skilful hands.
The botanic practitioner ceased to be
called a doctor or drifted into some
other school of medicine. The fam-
ily physician was no longer haunted
by the spectre of a total destruction
of his practice. The people, if they
had learned anything, had discov-
ered that there was truth in the quo-
tation that ' ' cleanliness is next to
godliness ' ' and that more frequent
and regular bathing at home was
quite as efficacious as a periodical
cleaning in a steam bath. The great
and almost criminal blunders of the
botanies had shown that in the treat-
ment of disease there is no such
thing as infallibility, and the com-
munity settled down once more to

the employment of those specially
trained for the medical profession,
with occasional lapses to the char-
latan and the quack when he made
his appearance in some new guise to
traffic on the credulity of the unwary.
At the same time the public is in-
debted, in part, to this crusade of the
Thomsoniaus for many reforms in
medical practice. Bej'ond a doubt,
this agitation resulted in a large dis-
continuance of the use of calomel and
kindred drugs, and an almost total
abandonment of the custom of bleed-
ing. Out of the contention of the
regulars with the irregulars, and of
the disciples of one school with those
of another, has come the ' ' common
sense ' ' contended for so vociferously
by the Thomsonians, and with it a
friendly disposition to accept of the
best of all schools in the treatment of
disease.

About 1842, the Concord infirmary
ceased to exist, and the buildings
were used as tenements until their
destruction by fire in 1872.

NEBRASKA DUCKS AND NEBRASKA MUD.

By Clarence B. Randlett.

'EEL, boys, unless I
am much mistaken,

and if mistaken very
much disappointed,
you will see this
afternoon a sight which you have
never seen before and perhaps never
will see again. It is better than six-
teen to one that at least ten thousand
or more ducks will take wing when
we begin to hammer that lake over
there," and old Doc pulled the vizor
of his shooting cap a little nearer his
left ear, and took another look at the
long, narrow stretch of water and
patches of thick rice grass and tules
a little distance in our front, while
mentally calculating upon our little
plan of campaign.

I was the tenderfoot of a part}^ of
four duck hunters, and had been
brought many miles by rail, and then
many more weary miles in the saddle
and on foot over the dreary sand-hills
of western Nebraska by my three ex-
perienced friends for a few daj^s'
sport with the ducks on their south-
ward flight in the fall of '96. We
had hunted several days at different
lakes, and with indifferent success,
and had at last pushed northward
into a section heretofore little trav-
eled, aiming to find a few lakes
where we could make a big bag of
the web-footed birds before our faces
were again turned towards civiliza-
tion and the ever-eager race for pos-
session of the "filthy lucre."

We had just finished pitching
camp, had disposed of a hearty lunch
and stood in front of our tent, look-
ing down and over as ducky an ap-
pearing lake as I had ever seen, and
although few ducks were to be seen
in the air, the hubbub of whistle and
quack, quack, quack, and whistle,
which came to our ears gave ample
evidence that we had before us an
afternoon's sport that would make
the e3'es of even the oldest duck
hunter in the land glisten.

It took but a short time for the ex-
perienced eye of Doc to take in the
entire lake, and his orders and sug-
gestions were soon given. I was to
hunt the extreme west end of the
lake, and had but a little distance to
go. "Deke," formerly Deacon, w^as
to push in next to me, Harry about
the centre, while Doc was to take the
east end, and had some distance to
go. Supposing us to be in position
by the time he had reached his stand,
Doc was to fire the first gun, and, fol-
lowing him, we were all to shoot till
dark or the ducks left for more con-
genial parts.

A short walk brought me to the
shore of the lake, and, pushing
through the thick tules, I found an
oval patch of nearly clear water about
seventy yards in length, with a nat-
ural blind of tules near the centre.
It was decidedly slow and heavy
work wading through the foot of
water and half- foot of black, sticky

NEBRASKA DUCKS AND NEBRASKA MUD.

353

mud to that little blind, but it was at
last reached, and I soon had every-
thing in readiness for the approach
of Mr. Duck, and settled mj^self to
wait for Doc's gun. I could see
little bunches of ducks here and
there jump into the air, disturbed b)'
ni}^ friends as they pushed ahead for
their stands, and then settle again,
disliking to leave the rich feeding
grounds of wild rice and smart weed,
and thinking, perhaps, that those
big two-legged birds in corduro5^
canvas, and rubber, were harmless,
and still the quack and whistle went
on.

A wait of about twenty minutes and
I heard the sharp crack, crack of Doc's
Smith, quickly followed by the two
reports of Harry's gun, and with both
ej'es wide open, and mouth as well, I
raised a little, and did see a sight I
may never again. The air over the
eastern end of the lake was literall)^
packed with ducks, large and small,
mallards, spoonbills, widgeons, gra}*
ducks, and the lightning-like blue
and green-winged teal. Just then I
would have been willing to push my
pile of chips to the centre and raise
Doc's bet to thirty-two to one, that
more than ten thousand ducks were
on wing, and if they could have been
counted the pot would have been
mine.

During the first raise. Doc's and
Harry's crack, crack, crack re-
minded me of skirmish firing, with
the entire battalion in action, and I
saw duck after duck pitch down to
rise no more. Soon that mighty
cloud of swiftly-beating wings parted,
and I settled again, that I might add
to our bag from those heading for
my end of the lake. The}- were soon
over Deke, and were welcomed with

a merry crack, crack, and afterwards
he and his Greener were decidedly
busy. A few seconds of time and
my own gun spoke twice, and a
big, green head and his dusk}^ mate
splashed into the water almost at
xwy feet. For ten minutes, I had as
pretty shooting as I could wish, and
twenty-one stone-dead mallards and
grey ducks floated in the clear water
in my front, while several had fallen
in the tules over my head and to
either side, to be located later on.
Although my shooting had been so
good, I really had opportunities at
onl}' the edge of the flight and saw
that a bunch of tules bej^ond a nar-
row, innocent, sand-appearing beach
about seventy or eight}' yards to vay
front would be a much better stand,
from which I could command the
\^xy centre of the steady and ever-
increasing stream of ducks which cir-
cled up and down the lake.

The guns of my friends were crack-
ing merrily as I waded out from my
blind, retrieved my ducks, and has-
tily strung them on my wire duck car-
riers, and, quite heavil)^ laden, started
across that patch of shallow water
and its bottom of soft, yielding,
stick}^ mud. Once or twice on the
wa}', an unusually tempting shot pre-
sented itself, and, dropping my heavy
string of ducks, I added two big
green heads to it and again plodded
on. Away to my right it seemed
that, if possible, more ducks than
ever were in the air and headed for
my end of the lake. I was nearly
across that strip of water, and a
few more steps would take me to my
new blind : ni}' mind was busy on
reaching it as soon as possible, when
I reached that narrow strip of land
which lay between it and me. Un-

354

NEBRASKA DUCKS AND NEBRASKA MUD.

thinkingly, I waded in it and thought
nothing wrong when my feet almost
refused to move and I had sunk into
a soft, oozj'^ mud that nearly reached
my waist. That bunch of tules was
almost within reach, and I struggled
forward one more step, and sank still
deeper, my feet as yet touching noth-
ing but the soft, black mud. Sud-
denly, my situation forced itself upon
my mind, and I tried to turn and re-
trace those last few steps. It could
not be done. I was fast in the mud.
Struggle as I would, I could not
withdraw either foot, and great beads
of perspiration gathered on my fore-
head and trickled into my eyes and
down n>y face and neck as I felt
myself sinking, sinking, and began
to realize how w^eak and helpless I
was in that strip of innocent-looking
mire.

Quickly swinging forward my
string of ducks, I landed them safely
at the base of the patch of tules, and,
withdrawing the shells from my gun,
I threw that on top of the ducks;
my shell-laden shooting-coat next fol-
lowed, and then I worked as I never
worked before. Throwing myself
forward as far as I could, I tried to
dig away the soft mud at my hips
and loosen my legs from its clinging
grasp. It was tiresome work, and I
shortly straightened up again, with-
out any perceptible benefit in my
condition. Forcing myself back, I
tried to dig away the mud in my
front but it only slipped back as fast
as I threw it out, and still I kept
sinking. I could hear those guns
still cracking, and realized how lit-
tle good shouting to my friends
would do. If I pulled out of that
hole I must do it alone, and, setting
my teeth, with throbbing heart and

rushing pulses I again struggled to
free myself. Every move, and twist,
and turn was tried, but to no use ;
I was as much and as fast a captive
in that mud, as was the famous pris-
oner of Chillon. Faint, disgusted,
discouraged, and worn out, I gave it
up. I was helpless. And with the
mud at my arm-pits, I turned my
head and tried to find some one stir-
ring at camp in plain sight on the
low hills at my back, but only saw
moving bodies in the flocks of ducks
which, wheeling within twenty yards
of my position, went laughing and
quacking down the lake. But, thank
heaven, I was no longer sinking, and,
standing there deep in muddy dis-
grace, thinking of the remarks and
exclamations of my friends when I
am discovered (for I am sure to at-
tract their attention when they leave
the lake for camp) the comical side
of the situation is presented to my
mind.

As I listen to the whir and
whistle of wings and see the green-
headed leader of a flock of- mallards
climb higher and higher, warning
his mates with his quack, quack, as
he caught sight of me as I turned vclJ
head, my hands involuntarily reach
out for my gun and are slowty with-
drawn. It is beyond my reach, and
even if not so, those ducks are as
safe, as far as I am concerned, as if in
the next county. My position will
allow my shoulders to move hardly
an inch. Over to the west the Oc-
tober sun is sinking behind the
bleak, dreary, treeless sand-hills, and
as it slowly and almost imperceptibly
drops, it paints a color picture on the
changing sky above me more varied
and beautiful than any ever on can-
vas, and causes me to wonder how

NEBRASKA DUCKS AND NEBRASKA MUD. 355

One, who can produce such wonder- made him so small that he rolled free

ful cloud effects permits in Nebraska from the log.

such black, irresistible, sticky, un- Encouraged somewhat, I smiling-

yielding mud. ly but earnestly began another strug-

The sound of an axe comes to me gle for release, but to no end ; that

from the thicket of plum bush on the Nebraska mud followed me up as

hill to my back, and, turning ni}' head, fast as I shrunk.

I can just see one of the cooks gath- Without pipe or tobacco, the long

ering wood for supper and the even- wait until the boys would start for

ing fire. After trying in vain to at- camp made me almost frantic, and I

tract his attention by shouting and joyfully hailed the cook, his supply

halloing, I am forced to give it up in of wood gathered, as he came down

despair and wait for my friends as to the lake for water,
they quit the lake at dusk. His eye took in the situation at a

The wind and my inability to face glance, and after anxiously inquiring

the cook prevent my voice from reach- if I was still sinking, and receiving a

ing him, w^hile I can plainly hear his reply in the negative, he hurried off

merry whistle between the cracking down the lake for help and one of

of the guns on the lake. After a our canvas boats.

time " Deke " stops shooting and I The flight was about over and the
soon see him hurrying to camp for a shooting nearly ceased, and I soon,
new supply of shells, and as quickly heard him and Doc panting and puff-
see him reappear and make for his ing as they poled and pushed the light
stand and the ducks. I tried my boat through the tules and grass, their
very best, but nothing short of a every resting-place marked and em-
steam calliope or a stick of dynamite phasized by Doc's cuss words and
would stop or attract his attention exclamations of disgust that I should
from his favorite sport at that time, allow myself to be caught in such a
and as he disappeared in the thick manner. But as thej'' pushed
grass and tules, I realize more fully through the last bunch of tules and
than ever that I am bound to stay pulled over the narrow strip of water
right there until night. to where Doc could see me, and hear

My position brought to my mind my chattering teeth, his cuss words
the story of an old-time politician changed to those of kindest encour-
who was journeying at one time on agement and solicitation as he began
horseback, and was caught in a se- to realize that the length of my cap-
vere storm far from shelter of any ture, my exertions to free mj'self,
kind. Dismounting, he crawled into and the cold night winds had about
a hollow log to escape the pelting done me up. Crowding the boat
rain, and before he realized his dan- close to my back, the oars were used
ger the swelling wood had caught to loosen the mud at my waist and
and held him as in a vise. Fearing hips as much as possible, and catch-
death, his thoughts turned to the ing me by the arms and shoulders,
deeds of his past life and his chances Doc and Fay, the cook, exerted their
of heaven, and, as the story runs, the every ounce of muscle to raise me,
memory of some of his political deals while I helped by throwing all

356

NEBRASKA DUCKS AND NEBRASKA MUD.

weight possible onto the gunwale of
the boat. After five minutes' hard
work on the part of all three, Doc
suggested a breathing spell, and I
settled back thoroughly worn out
and discouraged, faint in both heart
and body. I had not gained a par-
ticle on that tenacious mud.

Just then " Deke " was discovered
plodding wearily into camp with his
load of ducks, and a few words from
Doc brought him to our end of the
lake on a sharp run.

Gazing with surprise a moment at
my tired and anxious face sticking
out of the mud, without suggestions
from an}^ one he turned and hurried
back to camp, and as quickly re-
turned with his flask of whiskey.
Unable to reach me from his posi-
tion, he gave the cork an extra twist,
and with steady hand landed that
welcome flask within two feet of my
head. Within two seconds the cork
was out, the flask nearly emptied,
and I was ready for another pull at
the mud. The straps of my high
waders were unbuckled at my shoul-
ders and all hands undertook to pull
me out of ni}^ boots. The latter ob-
jected. Either they went with me
or I stayed with them, and they car-
ried their point. All hands took an-
other well-earned rest, and I took a
drink. "Deke," meantime, had
found an old piece of dried timber
which he succeeded in placing within
my reach, and which I drew up close
to my chest. The oars were driven
upright into the mud on two sides of
my left leg, I threw my weight as
much as possible into the old log in
front, Doc and Fay dug mud and
lifted from behind, and slowly, so

slowl}^ but surely, that leg was
pulled up and doubled under me.
Still keeping my weight on the log
in front, the oars were quickly passed
to my right side, everybody strained
his every nerve, and soon I sat
a- straddle that log, dirty, black, mud-
dy, and utterly worn out, but free.

After a short rest, I worked along
the log with help of the oars into the
shallow water, where I sat, drinking
in deep breaths of the cool, clear, in-
vigorating evening air, happy that I
was alive, happier that I was free,
while Doc picked up my coat, gun,
and ducks, and paddled out to me.
"Wading slowly by the boat's side
towards shore, I could not resist
reaching in and picking up my gun,
and slipped a couple of shells into its
barrels.

Dooking up into the full face of the
moon just rising over the low hills in
the east, I jumped my gun to my
muddy shoulder and sent a charge of
number sevens after a tardy return-
ing duck, within easy range, a lucky
shot, as the full, dull splash plainly
proved. I saw Doc smile grimly as
he said, "Keep right on to camp,
I '11 pick him up."

A few steps more and I was on dry
ground and slowly began to climb
the gentle slope to camp, content to
let the boys care for boats, guns, and
game ; happy that a good meal and
the more welcome night's sleep would
make me as good as new on the mor-
row, and thankful that for once Ne-
braska's black, innocent- looking, but
sometimes deep and treacherous mud
had been forced to give up one,
nearl}^ a victim to his inexperience
and thoughtlessness.

TO THE MERRIMACK.
By E. F. Tenney.

O shining stream.

Of sunset beam,

With autumn gold

In hillside fold,
With meadows broad, and upland farms ^
Of grasses sweet, of forest balms,
From mountain crags thy springs outflow ;;
The pine and maple thou dost know.

With rush and roar

O'er rocky floor.

In torrents white —

O wild delight —
Thy stream through granite gateway rolls,
To turn the wheels of a thousand men :
A hive of toil with busy hum :
Where w^edding bell for death loud tolls — ■-
Of human joy and grief the sum.

O river of song, O river of pen,
Of poets haunt and legend lore,

river of ships and ocean sweep ;

O river of youth
And manhood's prime, —
'Tis in thy stream I dip my oar.
And on thy placid waters float,
Now swiftly passing towards the deep,

1 pass the shallows we call time, —
I float from error into truth ;

I 'ni wafted like the sunbeam's mote,
Afar and wide from narrow shore :
O river of God, akin to founts on high
And ocean deeps, thy currents swift I ride

To swelling tide
Of fuller, deeper life, beyond the sky.

Mil:

Conducted by Fred Gowiiig, State Siipermtendetit of Public /nstriection

WHAT ARE OUR RURAL SCHOOLS DOING?

By yo/in Keniston, Chairman of the School-board of Plymouth.

At the annual town-meeting of Ply-
mouth, held on March lo, 1893, the
voters, availing themselves of the local
option, adopted what is known as the
**town system" of schools, anticipating
by one year, the time when all the
towns of the state were required to be-
come single town school districts. The
selection of a board of education de-
volved upon the selectmen, who in a
wise and discreet manner appointed six
broad-minded men, such as proved
capable of laying lasting foundations
for a growing superstructure. Like
most towns, the first problem called for
a reduction in the number of schools.
In brief, the village, with its graded
schools, retained its organization, under
the management of the State Normal
school ; while the ten ungraded back
district schools were consolidated into
six, involving some important changes
of location, and the immediate construc-
tion of three new school-houses. In
1894, a new school-house, intended to
be a model of its kind, was built to
take the place of the old landmarks.
Of the six now in use, only one is un-

suited to the times; but indications
point to the necessary substitution of
another model school-house within a few
years, thus completing the equipment of
our rural schools with adequate sur-
roundings.

In general, our outlying school-houses
are well located, having ample grounds
and easy access to the children of the
locality. They are pleasant, roomy,
and to some extent ornamental; are
provided with slate blackboards, book
shelves, modern desks, teachers' closets,
facilities for house decoration, and are
gradually being supplied with apparatus
for teaching, such as maps, charts,
drawing models, etc. The 1894 house
is the embodiment of past experiences,
limited only by the means appropriated.
Located in a sightly position, and
placed at one side of the lot so as to
allow most of the ground for purposes
of recreation, provided with a piazza in
front, a flagpole by the side ; with ample
entries, which serve as coat rooms, fin-
ished with a high wainscot and stained
glass windows. The school-room itself
is a large twelve-foot posted room, 24

ED UCA TIONA L DEPA R TMENT.

359

by 28, designed to accommodate from
30 to 36 scholars. The floors are hard
wood, the finish spruce and ash ; the
commodious blackboards are slate, set
low; the teacher's platform is raised
and recessed. A teacher's closet of
ample dimensions is situated in the rear
of the room ; the desks are single com-
bination of modern pattern ; and lastly
and most important of all, a stove with
a ventilating attachment "that works"
furnishes at all seasons a constant sup-
ply of properly-heated fresh air without
■drafts, at all seasons, in all kinds of
weather, without interference from con-
trary winds. The doors are pine, fin-
ished in the wood, and open outward,
according to law. The windows, sit-
uated on the sides and rear, are pro-
vided with transoms, thereby greatly
facilitating ventilation in warm weather.
A picture molding surrounds the room,
an inducement to aesthetic culture. An
ample woodshed is attached, containing
separate ventilated toilets. In all mat-
ters of heat, light, ventilation, and other
sanitary arrangements, great pains were
taken to follow the suggestions of the
state board of health.

Not how cheap, but how good a
teacher can be had according to the
means, has been the dominating pur-
pose in the selection of instructors.
There have been two distinct advances
in the teachers' salaries within ten
years. Experience proves that there
are less failures among normal grad-
uates ; hence the rule to hire only such
when possible. At one time the school
year was thirty-eight weeks; but, by
vote of the town, it is now thirty-four.
The quantity of work required and ex-
pected demands more time.

Along with good teachers in import-
ance come the text-books and supplies.
The same rule applies again to advan-

tage. It is always the intention, at
least, to choose the best books, not the
cheapest, and supplies of good quality
are purchased. Everything with which
the child comes in contact has its part
in the character building, so a good
penholder will not be without its influ-
ence, while cheap, worthless stufi" may
work unending mischief. Something
new occasionally in the way of instruc-
tion, text-books, supplies, or adornment
proves inspiring.

Registration blanks are filled out at
the beginning of each term, and sent to
the school-board. Then the board can
readily ascertain the whereabouts of
any child in town. The white blank is
used for those attending, while a similar
chocolate-colored blank gives whatever
facts are obtainable in regard to chil-
dren under seventeen non-attending:.
Practically, there no truants here; for
almost every child is satisfactorily ac-
counted for at the beginning of each
term. Occasionally, the services of the
truant officer are needed to induce
parents and children to use their school
privileges; and when needed, there is
no hesitation in employing his services.
The registration blank follows, elim-
inated of its purely local features.

PLYMOUTH TOWN SCHOOL DISTRICT.

Lower Intervale School, Sept. 6, 1897.

1. Full Name, Marian L. Mitchell.

2. Father's or mother's, or guardian's name,
David Glynn.

3. Age 7; Give birthday, month, December,
day, 2Srd, year, 1889.

4. Residence while attending school, with
whom Mr. Daniel Mitchell, Plymouth, on....
street, near street.

5. Grade, 7F.

6. Does the party named in question 2, reside in
District No. 2 ? No.

7. Residence of the party named|in question 2,
if answer to question 6 is No. Lower Intervale.

Answer 1, by one full given name with initials
for the rest of the given names. Talie special
pains to get perfect spelling and absolute exact-
ness in every answer. These blanks are to be
made out by the teacher as soon as practicable
after the beginning of each term,«and sent to the

36o

ED UCA TIONA L DEPA R TMENT.

Board of Education. In No. 2, cross out the per-
sons not given. In No. 3, give the year in which
the scholar was born, also month and day. In
No. 4, give the actual living place, as near as
possible. If the answer to 6 is No, then give the
name of district if in Plymouth; of the town, if
the scholar is not a resident of Plj'mouth.

In 1894, after four years of careful
study and planning, an eight-year
graded course of study became the pe-
culiar feature of our rural schools. No
opposition was engendered, yet some
important changes have since been
made, and another grade added in
1896. The leading motif, as musicians
would say, is to give the child, reared in
the rural district, all the advantages of
the village graded school. The details
of the important features of the plan
will follow.

The course now comprises nine
grades, requiring nine school years of
thirty-eight weeks each to complete the
scheme of study. The original founda-
tion was Dr. C. C. Rounds's Course of
Study, as published in the State Normal
School catalogues. Constant change of
teachers, and the want of a superin-
tendent necessitated rather more arbi-
trary divisions of studies, and a closer
confinement to the text-book than is
customary in village graded schools.
The steady maintenance of nine grades
in a school of twenty-five boys and girls
is a task requiring the marvelous skill
and perseverance of a good teacher, if
the best results are to be secured. A
sample grade will suffice to illustrate
the scope of the plan :

Grade VI.

Reading. Balance of Fourth Reader, Barnes's
or Swinton's. Supplementary reading: Moore's
Pilgrims and Puritans; Moore's From Colony to
Commonwealth; Hawthorne's True Stories from
New England History, and Tanglewood Tales.

Spelling. (Oral and written.) Normal Speller,
Advanced, Part 1.

Writing. Shayler's Copy book No. 5.

Arithmetic. Greenleaf's Brief Course com-
pleted from page 91.

Geography. Frye'.s Complete, through page 61,
supplemented by Wern.r's and Butler's.

United States History. Montgomery's Be-
ginners, through page 91.

Drawing. Prang's Shorter Course No. 3.

Composition and grammar. Southworth and
Goddard's from page 219.

Rhetoricals. Six declamations and six compo-
sitions (to be read) each term; to be laid out by
the teacher appropriate to the general character
of all the work of each grade, especially the
reading and language work.

Elements of Science and Morals, see State
Normal School catalogue.

The fundamental studies engross the
constant attention for the first eight
years. The ninth grade serves as a
rounding out for the pupil who com-
pletes his schooling in the elementary
school, and comprises a year's study of
high school arithmetic, advanced spell-
ing, English composition, and studies in
choice English selections, with half
years in bookkeeping, English history,
civics, and either botany, principles of
agriculture, or elements of physics.
These give the pupil a better founda-
tion for the high school, if he goes on,
or open to him more of the treasures
of knowledge, if he must stop. Or,
briefly, grade nine aims to promote
"good citizenship."

In order to make the graded course
a success, some important aids have
been prepared. Each school is sup-
plied with an elaborate rank register
designed by Dr. C. C. Rounds. Within
a brief space, the work done by each
pupil is faithfully recorded, serving as
the basis of promotions and becoming a
permanent record. The rulings pro-
vide for a twenty weeks' term if needed,
and ample provisions are made for a
complete record of everything of im-
portance concerning the school history
of each child. The book is indexed,
and, besides the record of ranks, space
is allotted for recording the promotions,
etc. Below follows an extract from
actual experience. Let the reader
understand that the ranks, for Monday,
Tuesday, and Wednesday are on the

ED UCA riONA L DEPA R TMENT.

361

left side of the square, and that those Once a month a report card is sent
for Thursday, Friday, and any other to the parent, showing the true stand-
special recitation or exercise are on the ing of his children. These are returned
right side. The other features are self- after examination, countersigned by the
explanatory. parent. They serve to animate the child,

[Right hand page.]
PLYMOUTH TOWN SCHOOL DISTRICT, TURNPIKE SCHOOL.

Dates.

Recitations —

First Quarter.

Second Quarte

Jan.

Feb.

SKI

Feb.

Mar.

25-29

1-5

8-12

15-19

22-26

1-5

8-12

15-19

<it

—

10 10

8 9

10 9

icT

9 7

10 8

io"

9 10

9 9

10 9

9 10

8 8

9 8

9 ..
10 9

9 ..
9 9

8 ..
10 9

10 ..

10 8

10
10

"To

8 ..
8 9

8 ..

7 8

9 10

9 9

9 10

9 8

9 ..

.9 ..

10 ..

—

10 ..

10 10

10 IC

io~

10 10

io~

10 10

100

10 10

100

10 ..
10 10

— 1

10
10

10 ..
10 10

10 10

100

10 10

100

10 ..

Class.
Arithmetic, Subject.
Stella M. Clav, Teacher.

Grade VII.

Chester A. Fletcher.

Arthur L. Page.

Spelling. — Grade VI.

Harry J. Sanborn.

Leon C. Brown.

[Left hand page.]
TERM COMMENCING JAN. 25, 1897, AND CLOSING JUNE 11, 1897.

Recitations-
Third Quarter.

Recitations-
Fourth Quarter.

Term
Averages.

Mar.
22-26

Apr.
29-2

26-30

May
3-7

S3
>
<

May
10-14

17-21

24-28

June
31-4

>
<

100
99

Examinations.

d
.2

97
91

100
99

-«^
oi

74
78

89
82

a
e

82J
84i

94
90.^

Remarks.

C.
81

C.
89

E.
58

C.
91

C.
94

D.
94

8 8

9 8
9 ..

8 9

9 10

8 10

9 8

9 9
10 8
10 ..

10 8

9 9

10 ..

10 10

10 9

9 ..

7 9

8 ..

9 8
7 ..

10 ..

10 8

8 ..
10 ..

10 10

9 ..

8 ..

10 10
10 10
10 ..

9 10

10 ..

9 ..

10 10
8 ..
8 ..

10 10
10 10
10 ..

10 10
10 9
10 ..

9 9
10 ..
10 ..

Passed.

8 8

9 8
9 ..

10 8

10 9

9 ..

100
100

Passed.

10 10
10 10
10 ..

10 10
10 10

iio ..

10 10
10 10
10 ..

Passed.

10 10
10 10
10 ..

Passed.

362

ED UCA TIONAL DEPAR TMENT.

especially when the parents cooperate.
This is a sample taken from real life.

PLYMOUTH TOWN SCHOOL DISTRICT.

Ward's Hill School.

Report of Charles E. Sinith.

For Spring term, commencing Jan 27, 1897.
1st 2d 3d 4th

mo. mo. mo. mo.
Deportment A A A A

Days ab.sent

Times tardy

Times dismissed

Spelling C C B A

Reading A A A A

Writing A B A A

Rhetoricals A C D A

Arithmetic B- A B A

Grammar

Geography A A A A

U. S. History A A

Physiologj'

Drawing

Music

Composition B A -4

On this report of scholarship and deportment,
a means excellent; 5, fair; c, unsatisfactorj'; d,
that immediate and rndieal improvement must be
made or the pupil will be liable to be put back to
another class or to be severely disciplined.

R. C. Smith, Teacher.

At the close of the school year, pro-
motion cards are issued to each scholar.
They are of three kinds. The most de-
sirable is the white card, given for com-
plete and satisfactory work. A blue
card is used for conditional promotions.
When scholars can not be promoted the
fact is so stated upon a plain card. By
this means the parents can know ex-
actly the standing of their children at
the close of each school year. Decep-
tion and indolence can be incepted in
the bud, if parents so desire. A new
edition of these cards should provide an
opportunity for the signatures of the full
school-board, and the parents should be
required to sign all cards which are not
full promotions, before the scholars re-
turn to school.

These are the forms used in this
town :

PLYMOUTH TOWN SCHOOL DISTRICT.

School 189.. Be it known that is pro-
moted from the grade to the — grade of

School, having completed the required work.

This card is to be presented to the teacher in
charge of the school at the commencement of
next term.

Teacher.

Approved by the School-board:

Chairman.

PLYMOUTH TOWN SCHOOL DISTRICT.
School, — 189.. Be it known that is pro-
moted from the grade to the grade of

School, with conditions in

This card is to be presented to the teacher in
charge of the school at the commencement of
next term.

Teacher.

Approved by the School-board:

Chairman.

As a fitting testimonial of apprecia-
tion of the long and patient work done
in these schools, a more elaborate cer-
tificate, lo by 13, is awarded to all who
satisfactorily complete the nine grades.
This is known as the grammar grade
certificate. The last session of the dis-
trict schools is held in the town hall.
The exercises consist of a prize speak-
ing, closing with a presentation of the
graduating certificates, by the school-
board. Each school makes an exhibit
of its written work and specialties,
such as herbariums, collections, ex-
periments, etc. This is a day of days
to many, a time when the most re-
mote and humble can feel that they
are a part of the town, one of the
strongest artificial incentives to good
work in the schools. The certificate
printed below is one of the two step-
ping-stones to a possible college career.

" Honor to Whom Honor is Due.''
THE PLYMOUTH TOWN SCHOOL DISTRICT.

Be it known to all to whom these presents
shall come, that — having satisfactorily com-
pleted the course of study prescribed by the
school-board in the primary and grammar
grades of the district schools, is entitled to this
certificate and admission to the high school.

Given at Plymouth, New Hampshire, this

day of

School. Jschool-

Teacher. i::::::: i ^^^^rd.

The one thing needful to promote
thoroughness has been a system of
standard examinations by the school-

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT.

363

board. A plan has been adopted
within two years, and most of the de-
tails worked out with gratifying re-
sults. Each study has been divided
into smaller sections for examinations,
generally following the matured topical
divisions, these subdivisions being
designated by letters for convenience.
For each part a thorough written ex-
amination has been prepared, which
represents the standard expected by
the school-board. The examinations
are placed in sealed envelopes, to be
opened only when the class is ready
for a test in that particular subject.
Those that pass are sure of promotion ;
those that do not, may remain to con-
sider the advantages of studiousness.
The examinations are intended to be
strong, such as will inspire the students
to more intense application.

In the make-up of all the examina-
tions except spelling, the subject mat-
ter amounts to ninety per cent. ; five per
cent, is reserved for spelling, and five
per cent, for neatness, penmanship,
form, etc. The scholar must secure at
least seventy-five per cent, in order to
pass. In practice, the teachers con-
sider the tests are fair and not more
difficult than the studious pupil ought
to pass. Credit is given for all the
work done, and whenever the pupil has
passed the required test in any part of
his work, so much becomes an accom-
plished fact, and he is not compelled to
duplicate his work whether he does
more or less than the grade calls for
within the year. The following ex-
amples will show the character of the
examinations :

Arithmetic. Grade VIII. A.

Percentage; Greenleaf's Complete, pages 167-
180.

Answer either No. 1 or No. 2, also No. 3, and
seven others.

1. Define percentage, base, amount, policy,
profit, and loss.

2. Define rate, difference, commission, insur-
ance, premium.

3. Give rules for finding percentage, rate per
cent., and base.

4. Find 1% per cent, of $2,.520.

5. What per cent, of 876 gal. are 584 gal.?

6. Find the number of which 2.17 is 3.2 per cent.

7. A man having $27,000 invested 18 per cent, in
bank stock, I2i per cent, in bonds, 34 per cent, in
houses, and the rest in a farm. Find cost of
farm.

8. A man's salary is $4,000. He spent 22 per
cent, for fuel, 12 per cent, for clothing, 3 per cent,
for books, and $1,018 for sundries. What per
cent, remained?

9. A teacher spends 65 per cent, of his income,
and can save $420. What was his income?

10. A clerk's salary was raised 15 per cent., and
now it is $1,050. What was his former salary?

11. A farmer bought 80 acres of land at $50 per
acre, and spent $1,800 for improvement. How
must he sell it per acre so as to gain fifteen per
cent.?

12. A lawyer collected 80 per cent, of a debt of
$2,.%0, and charged 5 per cent, commission on the
sum collected. How much did the creditor re-
ceive?

13. A merchant insured a stock of goods worth
$12,000 for three fourths of its value, at 1 per
cent.; what was the annual premium? Each ques-
tion counts 10. Add 5 for correct spelling and 5
for neatness.

Spelling. Grade V. A.

Lessons 153-177.

Throng, breadth, coach, strive, pierce, scythe
breathe, groove, weight, foremost, shuflde, ram-
ble, knuckle, sneeze, oj-ster, shoulder, stopper,
garret, bushel, solemn, flannel, horrid, mes-sage,
painful, faultless, noiseless, peaceful, movement,
kernel, postage, village, glitter, halter.

Each word counts 3.

U. S. History. Grade V. A.

Montgomery's Beginners' American History
pages 1-22. Answer 3; make a complete story.

1. Christopher Columbus; his boyhood, plans
and getting help, how America was discovered,
other voyages, death and burial, etc., etc.

2. John Cabot; his discoveries, what was found
and carried back, the second voyage, why called
America, etc.

3. Ponce-de-Leon, Balboa, and De Soto: the
discoveries of each, building of St. Augustine,
etc.

4. Sir Walter Raleigh: his expeditions, his set-
tlement in Virginia, what came of it, last days
and death of Raleigh.

Each question counts 30.

Add 5 for correct spelling and 5 for neatness.

Physiology. Grade VIII. A.

Smith's, pages 13-39; bones and muscles. An-
swer either No. 8 or No. 11, and eight otliers.

1. Define anatomy, physiology, hygiene, bones,
muscles.

2. Explain uses of bones; describe the main
cavities of the body.

364

ED UCA TIONAL DEPARTMENT.

3. Describe fully bones of head and trunk.

4. Describe fully bones of the upper limb.

5. Describe fully bones of the lower limb.

6. Describe fully the structure and chemical
composition of bone.

7. Describe fully the joints and parts which
compose a joint.

8. Describe growth of bones and effect of alco-
hol.

9. Describe the muscles and their properties.

10. Describe the structure of muscles and effects
of muscular exercise.

11. Effect of alcohol and tobacco on muscles.
Each question counts 10. Add 5 for correct

spelling' and 5 for neatness, etc.

A new feature, known as a movable
library of choice reading, has been in-
troduced this year. Books that are in-
teresting, uplifting, instructive, enter-
taining, or classical, have been pur-
chased and packed in small boxes,
one for each school-house. About twice
in the year an exchange of reading can
easily be made between the schools.
Thus in the course of three years a fine
collection of the best of reading will be
available to every pupil in the rural dis-
tricts. There seems to be a lack of
connection between the remote children
and the central library. By this means
it is hoped to imbue the minds of the
scholars with the love for good reading
so thoroughly that when they leave the
influences of the school-room the crav-
ing for more instruction will instinc-
tively lead them to the larger store-
house of knowledge. Intended ta sup-
plement to some extent, the fundamen-
tal studies, it will also serve to relieve
in part the dearth of reading matter in
many of the parents' homes. This is
to be one of the implements for broad-
ening the culture and brightening the
life of the many who will always reside
on " the old place," an introduction as
it were, to the unlimited riches of know-
ledge to be obtained only through the
printed page.

The annual school report is pub-
lished separate from the general town

report. No effort is spared to make it
unique and attractive. In it appears
the roll of honor, also the lists of gradu-
ates of the high and grammar schools.
Here is an opportunity to record the
achievements of faithful ones in the
rural schools, which is utilized for all it
is worth. At the close of each term
a special visiting day is set apart, when
parents and others are invited to ob-
serve the work done, and the members
of the school-board honor the occasion
by their presence. Encouragement is
given whenever opiportunity offers to
acquire knowledge outside the pre-
scribed routine. The personal pro-
clivities for extra lines of study or
investigation are fostered when they
become manifest.

One of the wise acts of the first
board of education under the town
system was the correlation of all the
schools in the town. Possibly, like
some other towns, the village might
have had reserved to itself all the
free privileges of the high school. But
a broader-minded statesmanship pre-
vailed and the high school was made
free to every Plymouth scholar, when
properly qualified, a most valuable in-
centive. Consequently, each outlying
school became a fitting school for the
high and is the first important step in
the preparation of students for college.
Since the adoption of the graded
course there has been a marked in-
come in the disposition of the rural
pupils to take the high school course.
The graduates of the district schools
are admitted to the high without re-
examination, which serves to stimu-
late the farmer boys and girls with
the desire for advanced education.
Of seven boys now in college, three re-
ceived their elementary training in the
back district schools.

EDUCATIONAL DEPARTMENT. 365

For the past year or more there have Since the advent of the standard ex-
been monthly conferences of the school- aminations, hereinbefore explained,
board and teachers of the rural schools, from four fifths to seven eighths of the
The individual needs of the scholars, scholars are diligently and earnestly
the welfare of the schools, and the gen- striving to obtain that degree of pro-
eral good of the cause furnish ample ciency necessary for promotion, and the
material for thought and discussion, honors v^^hich the school department is
Occasionally, consideration is given to only too glad to bestow. The pupils
some special subject, and an address is are not all at sea in regard to their at-
given by some expert in the matter, tainments. The parents can easily in-
More harmonious relations are pro- form themselves in regard to the man-
moted and the cordial spirit existing ner in which their children spend their
between the school-board and the school hours. As the child advances
teachers incites to greater effort on the through the grades and the high school
part of all to make these schools the appears within reach, he is encouraged
most successful of the kind. to press steadily on, his ambition grows,
After all is said and done, is the and plans for a more advanced educa-
game worth the candle ? Let us see. tion have time to be matured in the
Formerly, the classes were multitudi- home. The result is that more of the
nous; the course of instruction was in farmers' and other remote children are
continual chaos; the scholars were no- seeking advanced education than for-
where, going nowhere, and having no- merly. To be sure, there are some
where to go; the scholastic attainments "outs" to the system, which seem to be
were like one kind of beefsteak, rare, more the faults of administration than
not well done, and when the pupil had errors in principle; yet, the "ins"
finished, he was not prepared to go more than compensate for the disad-
anywhere but to go out. Where ? vantages. Consequently, the farmer is
Generally to find his level and there not obliged to abandon his farm and
plod along through existence, unless, move into the village, in order to give
possibly, he was fortunate enough to his posterity the advantages of a good
possess a vaulting ambition or enter- common school education. He can
prising parents. Then he had to spend continue his vocation in peace, since
a year or more in some village graded good opportunities for acquiring knowl-
school before he was prepared to enter edge are brought within reach of his
the high school or seminary. Now, children.

when children change residence, they Two solutions are offered to the
keep their standing ; when the teachers rural school problem. The first, cen-
are changed, as they often must be in tralization ; undoubtedly the better,
the rural schools, the new-comer fits but, for reasons which seem insur-
herself into the work, knows at once mountable, this does not appear to be
where the scholars are, and the school feasible in this town, at least at pres-
work goes on without interruption. ent. The other, the best possible man-
When the graded course was put agement of each school, the carrying to
into operation, careful observation the little school all the advantages of
shows that two thirds were stimulated the village graded school that can be
to make the most of their opportunities, adapted and prove practicable. This

366

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

the school-board of Plymouth have a clear idea of how it is done, and the

aimed to do for their charges, accord- results which may be fairly claimed for

ing to the best of their ability for these the efforts made for the betterment of

many years. This article aims to give our rural schools.

fr— ~ '.^^m 1

JUDGE T. L. NELSON.

Judge Thomas Leverett Nelson, who died at Worcester, Mass., November 21,
was born in Haverhill, March 4, 1827. He was a descendant of John Leverett,
who was governor of Massachusetts in 1673. He fitted for college at Haverhill
and at Kimball Union academy, Meriden. He entered Dartmouth college in
1842, but two years later he gave up his college course on account of the death of
his father. He soon renewed his studies at the Vermont university, and was
graduated in the class of 1846. He at once began work as a civil engineer, and
continued in that occupation until 1853, when he began the study of law at
Haverhill. In 1855, he went to live in Worcester and entered the law' office of
the late Judge Francis H. Dewey, where he finished his studies. He was asso-
ciated in the practice of the law with the late Congressman W. W. Rice and
Dwight Foster, until the removal of the latter to Boston. He was later associated
with Senator George F. Hoar, who was his warm personal friend. For four years
from 1870 Mr. Nelson was the city solicitor. He was a member of the legislature
in 1869, and served as chairman of the judiciary committee. He also served as a
member of the school-board in Worcester and as a trustee of the free public library.
He was one of the committee appointed by the supreme court to revise the rules
of equity. In 1879, ^^^ ^^^ appointed judge of the United States district court.
He was a member of the American Antiquarian society, the Wulstan society, and
of several other societies devoted to scholarship and art. In 1885, he received
the honorary degree of LL. D. from the University of Vermont. Judge Nelson
was the founder of the law library at Worcester, and for many years had been the
president of the Law Library association.

COLONEL E. S. NUTTER.

Eliphalet Simes Nutter was born in Barnstead, November 26, 18 19, and died
at Concord, November 15. He was a grandson of Major John Nutter, who, in
the War of the Revolution, served with distinction in the regiment of Colonel
Reid. In 1839, Mr. Nutter was a captain in the state militia, then, in 1844, pro-
prietor of a country store. From 1847 to 1855, he was postmaster, in 1855 re-

NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY. 367

moving to Concord, where he remained until his death. During the period of his
Concord residence, he engaged in business in New York city, Boston, and Law-
rence. He was for several years president of the New Hampshire Democratic
Press Company ; was president of the old New Hampshire Central railroad, now
a part of the Boston & Maine system; and of the Franconia Iron company. He
was also a large owner in the Atlantic & Pacific Railway Tunnel, at Denver, Col.,
and president of the National Railway and Street Rolling Stock company. He
was prominent in the erection of the monument to commemorate the name of
Hannah Dustin and her rescue from captivity, which now stands upon the his-
toric island near the mouth of the Contoocook river.

PROFESSOR E. R. RUGGLES.

Prof. Edward Rush Ruggles, A. M., Ph. D., Chandler professor of the German
language and literature in Dartmouth college, died October 30, aged 61 years.
He was one of the ablest members of the faculty, and had experienced a long
term of service in connection with the college. Professor Ruggles was born in
Norwich, Vt., and prepared for college at Kimball Union academy, Aleriden. He
then taught a year at Bradford (Vt.) academy, then went to Canada to perfect
himself in French and to teach in the mission of Grand Ligne. In 1859, he was
granted the degree of bachelor of arts by Dartmouth college, and in 1861 went
abroad to study. From 1S64 to 1866, he was instructor in English and French at
the polytechnical school, Dresden. He received the degree of master of arts from
Dartmouth in 1864, and doctor of philosophy in 1885. In 1866, he became in-
structor of modern languages in Dartmouth, and the following year assumed the
professorship of modern languages in the Chandler scientific school. Since 1893
he had been Chandler professor of German languages and literature at Dartmouth.

COLONi J. W. ROBINSON.

Col. Joseph W. Robinson of Concord died November 17. He was born in
Wilton, Me., February 17, 1830, and had resided in Concord since 1849. He
was educated in the public schools of his native town and Boston, Mass., and be-
came a practical telegrapher in 1856, just eight years after the first line in the
world was constructed. As superintendent of the White Mountain division of the
old American Telegraph company, he constructed the line between Boston and
Bristol, and Concord to Plymouth, and later built the telegraph line to the sum-
mit of Mount Washington. He acquired his title of colonel as a member of Gov-
ernor Ichabod Goodwin's stafT. He served for several years as city messenger.
Later he held the position of inspector of electric wires. He was a doorkeeper of
the hou^e of representatives in 1863, and a member of the house in 1894, in
which he secured the passage of a bill for the erection of a statue of President
Pierce, and was subsequently made chairman of the commission appointed to
secure a design and to raise funds for its erection. He was a member of Blazing
Star lodge of Masons, and one of its oldest past masters. He also received the
various degrees up to and including that of Knight Templar, and was past com-
mander of Sullivan Commandery, which he joined during a brief residence in
Claremont from 1870 to 1876.

368 NEW HAMPSHIRE NECROLOGY.

DR. ABRAHAM FLANDERS.

Dr. Abraham Flanders died at Morristown, N. J., November lo. He was born
in Canaan in 1827. In 1859, he was graduated from Union college, Schenectady,
N. Y. He went to Boston and practised medicine for a long there. Dr. Flanders
wrote several books on medicine and contributed to the medical journals. He
was a member of the local societies, and of the Italian Medical society.

JAMES G. GARDINER.

James G. Gardiner died at New York, November 12. Mr. Gardiner was born
at Claremont thirty-eight years ago, the son of Col. Alexander Gardiner. He was
graduated from Harvard and then studied law at the New York law school. He
had been practising in New York for the last ten years. He was also prominently
identified with several railroads and commercial enterprises.

HENRY W. PORTER.

Henry W. Porter, junior member of the firm of Porter Bros., dry goods dealers,
died at Fall River, November 8, aged fifty-two. He was born in Lyme, formerly
was in business at Hanover, and with his brother went to Fall River in 1873.

GEORGE F. WINCH.

George F. Winch, 78 years of age, died at New York November 11. He was
born at Bethlehem, and was the last of seven brothers, prominent among them be-
ing John C. Winch, the pioneer in the ice business in a large way, who amassed a
considerable fortune.

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