USA > Connecticut > Windham County > Historic Gleanings in Windham County, Connecticut > Part 10
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well-to-do farmers, did not disdain to enter their looms to weave cloth for Pomfret Factory.
This grateful boon happily coincided with new de- mands for money. Missionary movements were in the air and many benevolent societies were in pro- cess of evolution. A brilliant daughter of Provi- dence, Martha Whitman-wife of William H. Mason of Thompson-took the lead in organizing a " United Female Tract Society of Killingly and Thompson," borrowing for a model a very elaborate constitution just adopted by the pioneer "Female Tract Society of Providence."
The stewardship of Brown University passed from Dea. Bolles to another son of Windham County, Joseph Cady of Killingly. As the chief office of the steward of that date was to furnish the commons table for a crowd of hungry students, it is said that Mr. Cady owed his election to office to the excellence of his wife's cooking, as tested through their expe- rience in keeping tavern on Pomfret Street. The scale of prices is worth recording, in contrast to pres- ent charges -- for lodging, six cents a night ; meals, super-excellent, twelve cents each. Mrs. Cady's rep- utation for good cookery was fully sustained at Provi- dence, though it was hinted that her husband was more successful in catering than in discipline. His successor in office-another Windham County man, Mr. Lemuel Elliott of Thompson-combined every
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essential quality, and is still held in honor as the model steward of Brown University. Here again the wife (of course a Windham County girl) comes to the front, the superior quality of her apple-pies, as reported by an experienced critic, Mr. Amasa Mason, securing the favor of the trustees. The wis- dom of their choice was abundantly justified. The departments of finance, cookery, and discipline were equally well administered. Mr. Elliott sat in state at the head of the ample board-a true " Autocrat of the Breakfast Table "-one tap of his carving knife usually preserving order. But if any youth indulged in immoderate effervescence the autocrat's strong grasp quickly set him outside the window. The savor of the Sunday morning breakfast of cod-fish cakes and raised biscuit, long lingered in the mem- ory of Brown graduates. Mr. Elliott's term of ser- vice was prolonged from 1826 to 1864-during which period he was held in high esteem by students, fac- ulty and general public. Windham may well take pride in the somewhat remarkable fact that for more than sixty years this important office was held by natives of our county.
The turnpikes, so opportunely opened, facilitated the needful interchange of cotton and store goods in the manufacturing era, and stage lines accommodated roads and factories. These were the golden days of the historic stage-coach, that delightful institution
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which some of us still tenderly remember. Punctual as the sun, at 9 o'clock in the morning the Provi- dence stage cheered my youthful vision, soon to be followed by two enormous loads of cotton-bales, each drawn by four stalwart horses. Four stages passed daily over Thompson Hill, and at least the same number over the Killingly and Plainfield routes. Jolly tavern stands, at stated intervals, supplied all needful entertainment for man and beast, and no ascetic temperance legislation restrained the flow of liquor. The barrel of beer was always on tap, and the poker kept red-hot for flip-making. Could anything have been pleasanter than a first visit to Providence in one of these stage-coaches! The ruddy, genial driver, John Wilkinson, perhaps, or some kindred worthy, receiving you into his care with paternal interest. What opportunity the long drive afforded for friendship, flirtation and political discussion. Perhaps some magnate boarded the coach, Smith Wilkinson or Sampson Almy, to be remembered through a life-time. What family histo- ries were made known to us as we jolted along. Here was a youth with his bundle, receiving his mother's parting counsel as he went out into the world, or a brisk young girl alights, all ribbons and finery, flush with her first earnings in the factory. And then the bundles, messages, reproaches, picked up along the way. We seem admitted into the pri-
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vate history of every family on the road. Short seems the five or six hours' journey as we rattle over the pavement of Weybosset and Westminster-and our country eyes open widely at the array of stores, the throngs of well-dressed people, and all the won- ders of the city. The Arcade especially excites our wondering admiration, and we marvel at the pre- sumption of our country villages in attempting to pattern that magnificent structure.
This manufacturing and stage-coach era was one of steady growth and healthy development. Provi- dence was transformed from a provincial town to a flourishing city ; the Windham County towns made very solid gains in population and equipment. Some of Rhode Island's peculiar institutions were trans- planted to her neighbor's territ ory, viz. : two Quaker meetings and meeting-houses, and a Quaker board- ing-school. And while Providence boys were avail- ing themselves of the privileges of Plainfield Acad- emy and Black Hill Boarding-school, a Providence mother removed to Pomfret-Mrs. Mary Vinton -- was training her own boys for positions of high honor and usefulness in army, church, and state. Windham County boys were more and more drawn to Brown University. Among the bright lights sent by her to Providence during this period were Abra- ham Payne, of Canterbury, who won a high place at the bar, and George W. Danielson, of Killingly,
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editor of The Providence Journal. The number of Windham County men engaging in business and en- rolled among her honorable merchants is quite be- yond our estimate, while to keep the balance, Watson, Tingley, Nightingale, and Morse were added to the list of Windham County manufacturers.
A notable feature of the closing years of the turn- pike era was the bridal processions gaily wending their way to Windham County. Connecticut, for once less rigid than Rhode Island, tied the miptial knot after one legal publishment of marriage intentions.
Three successive Sundays, or at least fifteen days' notice was required by the sterner law of Rhode Island. Thompson, just over the line, was especially favored by these votaries of Hymen or " Weddingers," as they were commonly called. For a time these ceremonies were performed Sunday intermission by the ministers, who read the brief publishment of marriage intentions at the morning service, but the number of hymeneal visitors became so great, and the consequent Sabbath-breaking so alarming, that they resigned the lucrative office to Capt. Stiles, the veteran tavern-keeper -- who was made justice for this especial service. A man of commanding presence, with a melodious voice and very impressive manner, he performed the ceremony with remarkable grace and unction. Many a Rhode Island family dates its genesis from the old Stiles Tavern of Thompson. An
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occasional runaway with irate father in hot pursuit added to the interest of these matrimonial visitations, which made Thompson and its landlord almost rival Gretna Green and its blacksmith.
In striking contrast to these blissful cavalcades was the band of wearied fugitives who appeared on Thompson Hill one June morning in 1843-the flying remnant of Dorr's disbanded army-crushed by the ruthless hand of "Law and Order." That any per- manent result should follow this invasion curiously illustrates the beneficial tendency of Providence and Windham County intercourse. Accompanying or following the main body was one of the leaders of the rebellion-Aaron White-a lawyer of good stand- ing and more than average ability. Anchoring at the " Old Barnes Tavern," just on the line between Connecticut and Massachusetts, he decided to make his home in that vicinity, and as one dead to his former life he proceeded at once to select a burial spot and compose a Latin epitaph, which thus trans- lated he ordered inscribed upon his grave stone :
" In memory of Aaron, son of Aaron and Mary White, born Oct. 18, 1798, Here driven into exile While defending the rights of man,
I found Hospitality and Love, A Home and a Sepulchre."
In his subsequent life, prolonged over forty years,
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Esquire White practiced law as occasion offered, and amused himself with the study and collection of coins, leaving at his decease four and a half tons of pennies which were valued at some $8,000. He left, by will, to the treasurers of the eight counties of Connecticut a thousand dollars each as a trust fund "for the procurement and maintenance of County Bar Libraries in their several County Court Houses, for the sole use of the judges and clerks of the Courts therein, members of the Bar and their students." It is certainly a very remarkable occurrence that a fugi- tive from the laws of one State should confer so great a benefit upon the law expounders and admin- istrators of a sister commonwealth.
We have thus traced the intercourse between Provi- dence and Windham County in all its varying phases -by Indian trail and " trod out " path, by bridle path and cart path, by turnpike and stage-coach, to the beginning of our own era. Great are the changes wrought in this last half-century. Old times have passed and all things have become new. One puff of the steam-engine blew down our turnpike gates. Railroad train and bicycle have displaced the stage- coach, and coming electrics cast shadows before.
Yet, as amid all the changes of the past these sec- tions maintained such pleasant and helpful inter- course, even so under present dispensations. That artificial, almost invisible, boundary line which sets
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them in different governments has never impaired the interchange of friendly feeling and kindly offices. History they say is prone to repeat itself. As in the very first beginnings of historic tradition we saw our Nipmuck residents repairing to Narragansett shores for a shell-fish treat, so now our Windham people flock to the Bay for clam-bake and shore din- ner. And our Narragansett friends come in even greater numbers to Windham County towns to find -not lamprey eels alone -- but her pure air, her breezy hills, healthy and wholesome social influences.
VI.
A LIFE'S RECORD.
1777-1843.
Better than tradition, better than fact received from ordinary historic sources, is the contempo- raneons record, the living word, jotted down at the occurrence of what it depictures. Hawthorne tells us that even old newspapers and almanacs are "bits of magic looking-glass, with the image of the van- ished century in them." And still more vividly real- istic is the family letter, the daily self-revealing jour- nal, bringing us into living, personal relations withi human beings long passed from earth. Fortunately for the world this custom of diary-keeping was very much in vogue before the development of the per- sonal element in newspapers, and has contributed most essentially to our right understanding of many facts connected with the early history of New England colonies. Our indebtedness to Winthrop, Mather, Sewall, and other chroniclers is gratefully acknowledged. Many private, personal diaries are constantly coming to light, giving us new insight into political, military, ministerial, and secular affairs.
A LIFE'S RECORD. 169
Some of them are from men of high official position. Ministers and college students were especially ad- dicted to this exercise, and many phases of colonial and early national life are thus brought to intimate knowledge.
The journal on which this " life record" is founded is from a humbler source, a farmer's son with very limited advantages, and might be said to represent the daily life of an average Connecticut citizen dur- ing the period. It was kept by the same young fel- low who gave us pictures of the Rhode Island cam- paign of 1778. He began it the previous year when ambling back to camp after a furlough, and contin- ued it till near the close of his long life. Jotting from day to day the doings and happenings that came to pass, he gives us not only his own life's ex- perience, but a fair transcript of the growth and de- velopment of the nation in whose birth he had borne a part. A musty pile of yellow foolscap, tattered ci- phering and account books, tells the long story. Let us see what we can glean from it.
Dec. 3. 1777. We see a stout lad of eighteen rid- ing leisurely over the hills of Windham County, on his way back to Danbury. Brothers John and Jesse enlisted into the regular State regiments and served their quota. Our Zeph, with a little more snap, or spring, or wilfulness, elects a different service. He has not very pronounced ideas about the true in-
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wardness of the war that is in progress, but he likes to be about "hosses," and appreciates the fun of hunting Tories, and so he strayed down to Fairfield County and enlisted as a teamster. He has already spent six months guarding and carting Government stores, and now returns to duty after a brief furlough. It takes four days to reach his destination. First night-"Put up at a very good tavern in Coventry."
Slowly surmounting the Bolton Ridges he spends the second night at " old Captain Coles " in Farming- ton. On in the rain through Washington to one John Clemmons in Litchfield.
"6. Through New Milford and Newbury and got to Danbury about dusk."
Work begins next day, care of oxen and horses, and foraging for supplies. Danbury was one of the most important store-houses maintained by the Con- tinental Army. The previous April through the great "Tryon raid " it had sustained a terrible loss, eight hundred barrels each of beef, pork, and flour. Seventeen hundred tents, all burned and wasted. Now they were struggling to replace these stores and our Zeph drives all over the country with cart and oxen-goes to Bethel, Stamford, Norwalk-" Stays at a bad place. The man was clever but had a devil for a wife." "Dec. 21. Went over a dreadful bad mount- ain into Duchess County to Col. Vandeboro's, and loaded seven barrels of flour: went for hay to Joseph
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Hanford's farm-a Tory that has gone to the Regu- lars."
It is all work and no play for our country lad. He complains of poor living ; has no cook and no time to cook for himself; no bed to sleep in, no letters from home. How little this poor little teamster realizes the significance of what he is doing? How little he knows of what is passing? There is Putnam and his Connecticut regiments right over against them in the Highlands; Washington and his hungry soldiers at Valley Forge ; Congress vainly striving to meet the situation ; State Legislatures and Corre- sponding Committees at their wit's end for men and munitions, and our poor home-sick Zeph sees nothing but his small trials. Even Thanksgiving day " brings no rest."
Jan. 1, 1788. Prospects brighter. We get a cook and fare better. "Pecks folks are diabolical Tories but Mother Peck baked rye and injun bread for us Continentals and gave us a good New Years supper, rice pudding and baked beef-but the brandy is almost gone and what shall we do?" Feb. 2. Saw two of his neighbors and heard from home; first time since leaving it. A visit to Fairfield was another treat, for there he saw his brothers and " got a good dinner of scallops, pork-sides and bread." "Bought twelve sheets of paper and an almanac for a dollar: saw a lady with a roll upon her head seven inches
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high. It looked big enough for a horse and had wool enough in it for a pair of stockings."
At the close of the year, Zeph made over his oxen and rejoiced in freedom. "Nobody shall say when I shall drive team." He takes a job of flax-dressing upon shares ; had good cider and a bed to sleep on. Spring comes on early ; snipes whistle, frogs peep, but his year's pay is withheld, and then work fails him. He sells his horse for eight dollars, and that is soon eaten. Home-sickness sets in. He sees blue-birds, robins, black-birds, and tries "to fly home " after them like a foolish boy. Then he swallows his pride and goes back to teaming-"pities Continental oxen." A harder trial awaits him ; his trousers give out. He could get no cloth for new ones or for patching. "My breeches, O my breeches," he bewails, and finally is reduced "to put on a petticoat." Among all the privations endured by Revolutionary soldiers, this was the most humiliating. And just at this time Capt. Hoyt's house is burnt down, and Zeph's knap- sack is consumed with all his worldly goods, viz .- two canteens, one inkhorn and box of wafers, one gimlet, one pair shoes, one case bottle of West India rum, forty-nine pounds flax, one frock.
" April 22. Fast throughout Continental Army ; did no work & drew butter for the whole month, eat victuals now at the school house and lie at Major Gailors on a feather bed. Take care of sixteen horses.
A LIFE'S RECORD. 173
25. Bought cloth for breeches. Gay! Straddled two horses at once and run them till I fell through and hurt myself. 29. O, I hant got no breeches yet but today boiled or washed cloth to make some " and next day they were made and donned.
Various diversions were now practicable, such as raiding houses and mills for suspected Tories-and at the end of three months Zeph received wages and discharge, and gladly started homeward with a fellow freedman-"Through Woodbury and Water- bury, over the mountain through Southington to Farmington, Hartford, Bolton, Coventry, Ashford." Reached home at sun two hours high, a pleasant tramp in the freshness of youth and June.
Four days at home, one spent in "training at the meeting-house," and our restless youth sets out for Providence with his brothers. There are younger boys to help the old folks carry on the Bleakridge farm, and the older ones must work their own way in the world. Zeph finds work at low wages till drafted for military service. For these are stirring times. With the French fleet outside the Bar, and La Fay- ette and Green in counsel with Sullivan, and all the regiments that can be mustered in, and companies of militia, hurrying to Rhode Island for a desperate effort to drive away the British, these stout young fellows must do their part. Zeph's hard experience has been already given.
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A few days' rest at home followed the campaign, when he called upon "the girls" and once more " went to meeting in the meeting-house," and then Zeph resumed work in the vicinity of Providence, digging stones, laying wall, &c. Home at Thanks- giving time when a dance was on hand. He hears of the death of one of the expected company- " Benoni Smith-the ground caved in while he was digging out above, and next day the jury sat upon him and there was a dance that night and I went, which at the time I did not think it was a fit season ; funeral next day."
Zeph did other things in those irrepressible days discreetly veiled from prying eyes in undecypherable hieroglyphics, for work was scarce and Satan pro- portionately active. Fiddling and flax-dressing were resources in the winter, when he and brother John tramped about Connecticut, and found a job far over in Cheshire-where they lived well and had plenty of cider and good company. On good days they could dress as high as fifty-two pounds-half of which was their own-and on bad days cut rails and make brooms with true Yankee faculty.
Again in '79 they seek work and fortune in Smith- field. Times are hard and currency all " out of joint." Zeph gives fifty-five dollars for a ready-made linen shirt, and pays for other needfuls in proportion. The winter following was emphatically the hard one when
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sickness and suffering prevailed alike at camp and at home. Walking home in January, 1780, Zeph is caught in the great snow-storm, struggles through waist-deep to a farm-house, where he spends the night. Next day by carrying a bushel of corn two miles to mill on his shoulders, he purchases a pair " of wooden shoes or rackets," which did good service through the snowy winter. Towards spring, on snow- shoes, he again sought for flax-dressing, but luck and work now failed him.
Resuming wall laying in Smithfield he records a strange phenomenon :
"May 19, 1780. Now let not this day be forgot. In the morning it was cloudy and we laid a little wall, wind southwest. About ten o'clock it looked darker and I expected it would rain and it grew darker and darker. We worked at the wall till we could not see to range ten rods right. We went into the house and it was about twelve. The fire shined like night. They light a candle to eat dinner. The air or clouds look like brass, yellow, and things too I reckon. 20. Last night was as much darker than usual as the day but I saw it not : was asleep."
Zeph's interest in meteorological observation was quite in advance of his generation. With keen eye he notes the changes of the weather, the direction of the wind, the coming and going of birds, the putting forth of buds. "Sept. 25, 1780. I see a star plain as
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the sun right over head at mid-day." He sees it day after day. "It rises some time before day very large and bright."
Star-gazing in those days alternates with sky-lark- ing. Zeph is in great demand for frolics and husk- ings, and handles the fiddle-bow as deftly as the crow-bar. Still the hieroglyphics continue and mul- tiply, hinting at some feminine complication. In frequent visits at Bleakridge they become more vo- ciferous. The course of true love is not running smoothly. Finally a crisis is reached and Zeph breaks out into open lamentations. He waits upon somebody to a ball but is almost crazy. He can't eat . nor sleep and don't know what to do with himself.
" Talks of louping o'er a lynn."
Other youth have survived similar mischances. Zeph raves and tears in prescribed fashion, and then takes himself back to work in Rhode Island ; has his " hair braided the new braid " and starts anew.
Business and public doings now receive more at- tention. Zeph and brother John hire a farm and carry it on together, with pretty sister Mary for housekeeper. Men go to Newport for a month, and Gen. Washington passes through Providence and we try hard to get a peep at him. Still the times are no better, hard work and poor pay is the cry. "I pay sixty dollars for an ink-horn, also buy a sailor jacket for self and a red broad-cloth cloak for sister
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Mary." In spite of hard times the young folks have a merry season. "Who can say that former days were better than the present ?" What a state of so- ciety is depicted in these yellow pages. What frol- icking, and junketing, and promiscuous intercourse among these young people. How many children came into the world without, or quickly following, marriage of parents. Statistical Zeph apparently chuckles over these unseemly entries. " A baby laid to such a fellow," is no rarity in these pages.
After two years' hard work the farm is given up and wall-laying resumed, with intervals of haying and husking. Peace was proclaimed April, 1783, and we are hoping for better times-" When an honest man can live by the sweat of his brow, Sir."
Hieroglyphics appear again in which L. B. con- spicuously figures-"L. B. and I rode down to Brown's farm and did eat and drink-watermelons plenty." And then comes the crowning entry.
" Oct. 14, 1783. Finished Farnam's wall ; had Jon- athan Angel's horse and rode home; then took George Streeter's horse and L. B. and rode to Elder Mitchell's in the evening, and about 9 o'clock we were married and so we rode back again, and two better beasts than we rode are seldom to be found, Sir, your most obedient. And Elder Mitchell was 85 years old. Oct. 15. Rode to Angels and Streeters and dug stone." Next month the young couple get
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things together for housekeeping, and ride to Con- necticut to keep Thanksgiving with old Father Jacob, and appear out at church in Priest Russell's meeting-house, and Zeph's fiddle is brought into exercise.
And now, with wife and family to support, our Zeph is busier than ever. He tries various schemes, Yankee fashion; speculates in poultry ; works "at slaughtering ;" runs a meat-cart; sells liquor and cakes at North Providence ordination, and then falls back upon wall-laying. Husks and fiddles all night through the autumn. Hires "two rooms up stairs and one bed-room, half garret, needful cellar-room " for twelve silver dollars rentage. But times are hard and even this low rent is paid with difficulty. Chil- dren come on apace. A cradle is one of the first ar- ticles of furniture, and a "little lad " is soon trotting round and tumbling down stairs. Then comes an- other boy, and last " our daughter Dolly."
And now come several hard years for our journal- ist. He finds that life is something more than a frolic. He works hard in various ways but can hardly make a living. There is the same cry all through the States, and men are flocking to the new countries. Twice our Zeph breaks away, axe in hand-the first time for Whitestown on the Mohawk, and is sent back by a rumor of small-pox. Again the next year, 1787, he trudges up to the Berkshire Hills ; visits old
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