USA > Connecticut > New Haven County > East Haven > Historical discourse delivered at the centennial celebration of the dedication of the Stone meeting house, 1774-1874 > Part 3
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nearly ninety years. Some years previous to his death he related to me some of the occurrences of the day, which made an unusually vivid impression on his mind, as fresh and clear in his memory, after the lapse of eighty years, as it was the day it was made. He was at the time about six years of age, and rode to the scene from his home-the old Forbes Mansion, near Tomlinson's Bridge-on hore-back behind his father. Doubtless many from New Haven and the adjacent towns, with the neighboring ministers, were present to participate in the services, and congratulate the people of East Haven. on the completion of what, at the time, was a gigantic work-the first stone meeting-house in the Colony of Connecticut.
For several years diligent inquiry has been made for the dedication sermon, preached by Mr. Street on this occasion, but without success. Could that be found, the precise day of its occurrence, as also of the first Sabbath it was occupied for public worship, would be known. This knowledge is now hopelessly lost. We may imagine some- thing of the feeling of that congregation, when, for the first time, they gathered within these walls, reared by their toils, and self-denials, and sacrifices. Rough and unfin- ished as they were, when they gazed upon them, and thought there was nothing like them in all New England, they would feel amply repaid for all they had cost. And, as they accompanied their beloved pastor in his fervent thanksgivings at the throne of grace, and listened to his recital of the struggles through which they had passed for the accomplishment of their great work, they would feel confident their descendants would manifest their apprecia- tion of the work they had performed, not merely by the preservation of this sacred edifice from desecration and decay, but by continuing steadfast in their adherence to those principles of truth and righteousness, of patriotism and piety, which have ever been inculcated here, and of which the solid structure they reared, and the imperish- able materials of which it is composed, are the fitting emblems.
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"It was a great and honorable work," says Mr. Dodd in his Register, published just half a century ago, "and there stands as a lasting monument of the enterprise, public spirit, wisdom, and perseverance of the undertakers, and especially of the leaders. It was a cheaper building than one of wood. They had stone and lime, and teams and laborers enough to do the work. A stone house saved them money. The papers containing the accounts of the building are lost, and the expense of it can not now be ascertained. But it is supposed, that when they began to meet in it, it had cost ten or eleven thousand dollars. The steeple and inside of the house were finished several years afterwards, for the war coming on nothing could be done. Indeed, the society has never seen a more favorable period for this great work. They were then united as one people ; and the society, probably, never contained a company of men of more enterprise, or greater resolution and public spirit, than that generation con- tained. The Revolutionary War commenced the next year. And when that war was terminated, divisions began to appear, and had considerably dimin- ished the active abilty of the society to perform such a work again ; and, in a
few years, a number of those influential and enterprising men were removed by death. And though there is yet a considerable portion of wealth in the society, it is not accompanied with the same resolution and enterprise which the fathers possessed. But it ought to be considered, that the hand of the Lord was in the work. The time had come when the 'Lord's house should be built,' and then men and means was prepared to exceute the work of the Lord and fulfill the divine purpose. 'Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it.' And when the work was done, the people had occasion to say, 'The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad.'"
It was completed, dedicated, and occupied in the au- tumn immediately preceding the Battle of Lexington, which occurred April 18, 1775. Then was fired the first gun of that revolution which, after eight years continuance, resulted in the independence of the Colonies, and the birth of a nation. It is needless to state, that with few excep- tions, the congregation that worshiped here were heart and soul with the patriots in their struggle for liberty, and many of its young men gave their lives to the cause of their country ; some on the battle-field, some in naval con- flicts on the ocean, but more in the deadly prison ships at New York. The "Stone Meeting-house" was the ap- pointed rallying place in times of danger, and when, at the invasion of New Haven in 1779, a strong detachment of British troops landed on the East Haven shore, and com- mitted their customary depredations, these walls were soon surrounded by a body of brave and resolute men, who would have defended them so long as stones enough re-
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mained to make a breastwork. The enemy formed in line of battle, on the crest of yonder hill,* with banners waving and drums beating, apparently about to swoop down upon the little village and devote it to destruction. But the officers seeing, with their glasses, the numbers gathered and the preparations made to receive them, and being without cannon, soon withdrew and hastily decamped to their boats. Beyond the burning of a few buildings, and the killing of one man-Isaac Pardee-they inflicted no further injury, and never reappeared in this vicinity. One incident of the Revolution is worthy of record. When the army under General Sullivan, in Rhode Island, was trans- ferred to New Jersey, to strengthen Washington in his operations against General Howe, La Fayette with his regi- ment eneamped for a few days on the East Haven Green. In 1824, on the occasion of his revisiting this country, he rode out from New Haven to review the place of his en- campment, nearly fifty years before.
In the constant state of excitement that pervaded the country, and the frequent calls for men and money to carry on the war, and consequent depression of every kind of business and industrial pursuits, there was neither the dis- position nor the ability to do any thing about the comple- tion of the meeting-house. From subsequent developments in the history of the town, it is evident that if it had not been built at the time it was, it would never have been erected, at least in its present form. When the war closed, the attention and energies of the people were engrossed by the struggle to obtain a town charter, which had been in progress, at intervals, for a hundred years, but was not suc- cessful till 1785. The ill-feelings engendered by political causes, during the war, had introduced discord into the society, which, a few years later, resulted in a permanent division. This combination of influences prevented any effort being made towards finishing the meeting-house. It was not until nearly twenty years had passed away, and the men who had been most active in building it had gone
* Beacon Hill,
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to their graves, that any serious movement was made in this direction. In the meantime the people continued to occupy it, for the services of public worship, cheerfully submitting to the inconveniences resulting from its unfin- ished condition, in hope the time would come when their sanctuary would put on an appearance more consonant with the honor of Him to whose worship it had been con- secrated, and more in accordance with their own intentions, taste, and feelings .*
The first action taken by the society, in regard to it, was in 1791, but nothing decisive was effected till March, 1793, when Esquire Samuel Davenport, Amos Morris, Jun., Joseph Russell, John Woodward, and Dan Holt, "they, or the major part of them, be authorized and em- powered to indent and agree with any gentleman or gentle- men, to finish the meeting-house of said society, in said East Haven, in such a manner as they, or the major part of them, shall think best ; said house to be finished by the first of December, A. D. 1794." Though objection was made to building a spire at the same time, on the ground
* From an incident that occurred in society meeting, in December, 1774, it seems that the singers, who composed an important part of the congregation, were subjected to greater inconvenience than others who attended divine worship on the Sabbath, and the society was indisposed to afford them relief. The galleries of the meeting-house were not furnished with seats, except such as had been extemporized of the roughest materials by the singers themselves. After submitting for several months to this inconvenience, they petitioned for better accommodations. In response, the society coolly "Voted, that the singers should have liberty to make seats around the gallery, upon their own cost." But, with characteristic sensitiveness, this action was greatly disliked by the singers. The society receded, and " voted to build two seats round the gallery for the singers; and that the singers that carry the tenor should sit at the east end of the first, or front gallery, and the base at the south end of the west gallery, the treble at the north end of the east gallery." This arrange- ment appears to have been satisfactory to all parties.
The Episcopal Society was organized in 1787, and was the result of divis- ions which had occurred in the Congregational Society during the Revolution- ary War. This secession weakened, to some extent, the old society, and delayed for a time the making of those improvements in and upon the meeting- house which were greatly needed. But, notwithstanding the loss it had sustained, it was still a strong and united body, and four years afterwards the first movement was made towards commencing the much-needed and desired work.
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of the increased burden it would impose, it was finally concluded to make one business of it. It was felt to be full time that the edifice, which the preceding generation had reared with so much enterprise, perseverance, and sacrifice, should be completed in the form and manner originally designed. The people gave themselves to the work with characteristic energy, and carried it through to a successful issue. But the time allotted for it was wholly inadequate, and instead of two it was four years before it was ready for occupation. There are those present here to-day, who can remember the interior arrangements as this house stood completed in 1796, and before its alteration in 1822. Its entire length was traversed by two aisles, from east to west, while three transverse aisles intersected these, the middle one of which lead directly from the front door to the pulpit. The long gallery was on the south side, and two shorter ones extended across the east and west ends. The stairs leading to them were in the south-east and south-west cor- ners, within the audience-room, and the tramping up and down them, by uneasy boys or belated men with their clumsy boots, during service, caused no little annoyance to the minister and congregation. The clatter made by the down-rush, at the close of the service, was almost deafen- ing. But the grand and overshadowing object within was the pulpit, with its surroundings, overhangings, and orna- mentations. This was a marvel for workmanship, archi- tecture, and embellishment. Perched at the highest possi- ble point, it was a subject of ceaseless wonder, especially to the child-mind, how the minister ever got into it, and, when once in, how he ever got out. It must have been at the hazard of a stiff neck on Monday, if those seated in the body of the house kept their eyes on the preacher during the delivery of the sermons on Sunday. But to the child- ren, the most attractive object was the sounding-board, or canopy, which hung suspended over the pulpit by an iron rod, so apparently slender as to be liable any moment to break and let the whole ponderous mass fall and extinguish the preacher. Upon what principle of acoustics such a machine was constructed, it is difficult to imagine. The
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only earthly use it did subserve was to rivet the attention of children and keep them quiet, by the intense interest it excited. The cumbrous pulpit, with its massive canopy, stood its ground amid the changes of nearly sixty years, and until the extensive alterations and improvements made in and upon the meeting-house in 1850, when it was sold at public auction, and the sounding-board appropriated to the ignoble use of a chicken-coop, where, instead of reverbe- rating the tones of ministerial eloquence, it echoed with the hoarse notes of incipient chanticleers. Sic transit gloria mundi.
When the improvements were completed, a difficulty arose that had not been anticipated. After repeated trials, it was found impossible to seat the meeting-house in the ancient manner without creating great dissatisfaction. Committee after committee was appointed ; some being unable to effect any thing resigned, whilst others were superseded. A few years after this mode of procedure was abandoned, and a different and more generally satisfactory plan adopted. A great change had taken place in the sentiments and habits of the people in the three-quarters of a century since any thing of the kind had been done. The old English notion, that special privileges should be accorded to persons of birth, and rank, and wealth, in the House of God, had passed away, and more democratic ideas, the natural result of national independence, and more in accordance with the genius of those free institu- tions established by the Federal Constitution, had begun to prevail. By the adoption of a different plan for dis- posing of the seats, the society was happily relieved of an element of discord, which, for a time, threatened serious results. The whole trouble had its origin in the endeavor to retain a system totally at variance with the altered con- ditions of society, and should have been allowed to disap- pear with the knee-breeches and shoe-buckles, and long queues of the former generation.
The society had scarcely completed their meeting- house, and became comfortably settled in it, when a great calamity befel it. In October, 1797, a terrible tornado
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passed through the center of the town, threw down the newly erected spire, unroofed the building, and otherwise seriously damaged it. To repair these damages required renewed effort and sacrifice on the part of the people. They were, as usual, equal to the emergency. The work was commenced immediately, with the express stipulation tlfat it should be done in the most perfect and thorough manner. No person now living retains a recollection of the first spire. Many years ago an aged member of the congregation informed me that it was of the form and style popularly known as the "Squaw's Cap," which some now present can remember as surmounting the ancient meeting- houses familiar to their childhood. The new one that re- placed it was a tall and graceful spire, far superior in form and style to the one that had been destroyed. It remained standing till 1857, when, becoming delapidated and de- cayed, and in danger of falling, it was taken down, and that beautiful and graceful spire erected, which now towers so grandly above the ancient church and village around it. The entire cost of repairing the damages caused by the tornado, amounted to $1,000, which, added to the $2,500 just expended in finishing the meeting-house, was a large sum for so small a society to raise, at a time when the value of a dollar was three times as great as at present.
The repairs having been completed, to the general satis- faction, the people determined to supply a great deficiency. During the pastorate of Mr. Heminway, the hours for com- mencing worship on the Sabbath were announced by beat of drum. Deacon Joshua Austin was chosen first drummer, whether because of his superior skill with the instrument, or being an office-bearer in the church, he would perform upon it in a more orthodox and godly manner, is not stated. The society, by formal vote, directed him to "beat the drum from 'Chidsey's Hill' to 'Goodsell's Hill,' " that is, from the present residence of Lucius Linsley, Esq., to that of Justin Bradley, Esq. The custom was probably discon- tinned early in the ministry of Mr. Street, as no trace of it is found in the records after his settlement. In 1798, the society "voted to procure a bell, to place in the new
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steeple." The necessary funds were appropriated, and a committee appointed to carry out the vote. Dr. Bela Farn- ham, one of that committee, who died in 1857 at the ad- vanced age of eighty-nine years, informed me that he was present at the melting of the metal, into which he threw nineteen Spanish milled dollars, to give to the bell a sharp and silvery tone. The committee were also present at the important and mysterious process of casting, and with great satisfaction saw the bell come forth from its smoking mold in full perfection of beauty and tone. It has no motto upon it, and bears only the inscription, "Fenton & Coch- ran, New Haven, 1798." It is the only one the society has ever had, and for more than three-quarters of a century it has, with cheery tones, called two generations and a half of the people of the village to the house of prayer, with solemn accents announced their deaths, and with measured and melancholy toll marked the slow march of the funeral procession that followed their remains to the grave. The first year it was hung, its mournful notes announced the death of the good and great Washington, and the last time it pealed forth the sad intelligence of the death of a presi- dent, was when the equally good and patriotic Lincoln died by the bullet of the assassin, in April, 1865. This bell is remarkable for the purity and richness of its tone, which makes it capable of being heard at a greater distance than bells of much larger size and weight. After it had been raised to its position and hung, a curious direction was given to the person invested with the dignity of first bell-ringer in East Haven, namely, he was "not to turn the bell over in ringing." No description is given of the appa- ratus used for working it ; but unless it was different from any thing now employed for the purpose, the ringing must have been a difficult affair, and the sounds produced some- what peculiar.
There were some public-spirited, energetic, and liberal men in the society, with whom the determination to do a thing was the same as doing it. Upon their request the society passed a vote, giving permission "to Edmond Bradley and others, to affix a clock in the steeple, in such a
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manner as to strike the bell that is about to be fixed in said steeple ; provided, that said clock is affixed without any expense to the society." The clock was procured and placed in position. It proved to be an excellent instru- ment and true time-keeper, and for more than three-quar- ters of a century has been the unfailing index of the time, and announced the passing hours to all dwelling within sound of the bell ; excepting, on a few occasions, when, for lack of the same spirit that actuated those who procured it, its works have been allowed to remain, sometimes for years, silent and motionless .*
Thus, the "Old Stone Meeting-house," after the lapse of thirty years from its projection, stood complete in all its appointments, both external and internal, by far the finest church edifice in New Haven County. The ministry of the aged pastor was now drawing to a close. For fifty years he had stood on these walls of Zion, and proved himself an able preacher and a faithful pastor - "a workman thoroughly furnished unto every good work." He was a man of dignified presence, tending to portliness, with a
* If the congregation that worshiped in the "Old Stone Meeting-house," at the close of the last century, did not enjoy good singing, it was not for want of a large choir, or of choristers qualified to lead it. In 1799, no less than four choristers were appointed, and the following year six. They were all men, and, therefore, could not, as might have been surmised, officiate as leaders of the several parts of the harmony. It is not stated whether they all officiated at the same time, or by rotation. Such an arrangement appears strange at the present day, when a paid quartet is considered sufficient to perform this im- portant part of the services of public worship. Unless the disposition and habits of choir singers have undergone an entire change since that time, such an arrangement could not be of long continuance. That it was not, is evident from the fact that the next year but a single chorister was appointed, and it is significant that he was altogether a different person from any of the six who had been chosen to fill the office the previous year. In connection with his appointment, the society authorized the committee " to purchase a PITCH-PIPE, for the use of the chorister." For many years this was the only instrument allowed in the Congregational Churches of New England.
In 1806, in response to their petition, the society gave permission to Samuel Bradley and others, " to fence in the meeting-house, under the special direction of the society's committee." I have been unable to learn whether the fence was built or not, probably it was not, on account of disagreement between the proposers and the committee, concerning the kind of fence to be erected.
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certain deliberateness in his movements which gave im- pressiveness to them ; somewhat reserved in his intercourse with strangers, he was easy and affable with his own peo- ple, often indulging in humorous remarks and witticisms, many of which are still floating around in the traditionary folk-talk of the community. He was an especial favorite with the young, an exceptional circumstance at a time when a minister was generally made a bugbear to frighten refractory children into obedience. It is to these traits was owing the strong hold he had on the affections of his peo- ple, which he retained till his death, which occurred on the fifty-first anniversary of his ordination, October 8, 1806. As he appears in the portrait that has been preserved of him, he was a man evidently fitted to inspire reverence, confidence, and affection ; one to whom the troubled would go for counsel and advice, and the afflicted for sympathy and consolation.
Mr. Street's theology was of that type which, a century ago, was known throughout New England as "Old Light," and is now denominated "Hyper-Calvinism." Much of his preaching consisted in the exposition and enforcement of his favorite doctrines; but they were never presented in the dry, bony, scholastic form, which was the prevalent style of preaching in his day. He had the rare faculty of presenting abstruse subjects in a form of language interest- ing to his hearers. Doctrines, such as the "Existence of sin," "How a sinless being can fall," "Divine Decrees," "Predestination to eternal life," or "Election," assumed an interest under his treatment which stripped them of that repulsiveness with which they are commonly regarded, and clothed them with all the importance of a necessary part of the Christian scheme. The reason of his power in handling these great doctrines was not merely because he presented them in a clear, simple, and intelligent language, level with the capacities of those he aimed to instruct, nor because he manifested a sincere conviction of their truth, but because he threw into his exposition of them all the goodness of his heart, and all the warmth of an earnest nature. But it would be doing injustice to Mr. Street to leave the impres-
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sion that this class of subjects formed the staple of his preaching. His practical discourses, comprising much the larger portion of his writings that have been preserved, are of unusual excellence and power, and show a profound knowledge of the workings of the human heart. What are denominated hortatory sermons he never preached. Whit- field was the originator of that style of preaching. During the entire period of Mr. Street's ministry, commencing the year immediately succeeding Whitfield's death, there was a reaction from the intense excitement produced by his preaching and that of his imitators. For thirty years after the commencement of the war of the revolution, the churches of New England were marked by a low state of religion and absence of revivals, unparalelled by any similar period in their history. This season of spiritual deadness closed about the time Mr. Street was laid aside from active labor, by reason of age and infirmities. Had his ministry fallen upon times of greater spiritual activity and religious feeling, it is evident, from his ability and personal piety, that his preaching would have been of an entirely different character, and he would have stood in the front rank with men like Lyman Beecher and Edward D. Griffin, in laboring for the promotion of revivals of religion. Although nothing like what is denominated a revival oc- curred during his ministry, yet that ministry was eminently successful, as is manifest from the fact that, at its close, the membership of the church was nearly double what it was at its commencement. It is no more than simple justice to state, that the series of powerful revivals with which this church was blessed, during the ministry of his successor in the pastoral office, was unquestionably the ingathering of a harvest, the seeds of which were sown by the faithful preaching and labors of Mr. Street.
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