History of New London county, Connecticut : with biographical sketches of many of its pioneers and prominent men, Part 111

Author: Hurd, D. Hamilton (Duane Hamilton)
Publication date: 1882
Publisher: Philadelphia : J.W. Lewis & Co.
Number of Pages: 1317

USA > Connecticut > New London County > History of New London county, Connecticut : with biographical sketches of many of its pioneers and prominent men > Part 111

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The ancestral line who have inhabited the ancient edifice, from father to son, if we add Christopher, who came from Massachusetts to reside with his son James about ten years after he settled at Pequonoc, is as fol- lows :

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HISTORY OF NEW LONDON COUNTY, CONNECTICUT.

Christopher Avery, b.in England, d. 1681 ; James Avery (1), b. in Eng- land, 1620, d. 1694; James Avery (2), b. Dec. 16, 1646, d. Aug. 22, 1728; Ebenezer Avery, b, May 1, 1678, d. July 19, 1752; Elder Parke Avery, b. Dee. 9, 1710, d. March 14, 1797; Lieut. Parke Avery, b. March 22, 1741, d. Dec. 20, 1821 ; Youngs Avery, b. April 2, 1767, d. May 30, 1837 ; Parke William Avery, and his son, James D. Avery, its present occupant.

To the large quantity of arms and ammunition that the first James had accumulated in the course of his service against the Indians-for the State furnished neither one nor the other to any considerable extent- the second James, who from his will was evidently a gun-fancier, made large additions, and bequeathed to each of his seven sons "one-seventh of all my arms, guns, and swords," in addition to an equal share of his property, and to each of his five daughters he gave as a last bequest " a silver spoon," that, after the folk- lore of the time, it might be said each of them " was born with a silver spoon in her mouth." Ebenezer became a man of large possessions, his land extend- ing, according to tradition, from Dunbar's Mill (still standing, north of the Stonington turnpike) to East- ern Point, and from river to river. Capt. Parke, sometimes called Elder Parke, turned the great room of the old house into a church after the Revolution on Sundays, and himself preached, without fee or reward, in resistance to the tithe system of the standing order, carefully seeing that his negro ser- vants hitched and fed the horses of his congregation during service. Lieut. Parke was severely wounded in the battle of Fort Griswold. Indeed, the nine Averys who were killed in that battle, and nearly as many more who were wounded, were all of this family, and most of the wounded were taken to the old house and cared for after the battle. His son Youngs mar- ried Eunice, the daughter of Capt. William Latham, who commanded at Fort Griswold on the morning of the battle until Ledyard took command, and their son, Parke William, named after both grandfathers, who were veterans of Fort Griswold, succeeded to the inheritance, which has passed to the next generation, and is now owned and occupied by James Denison Avery, the town clerk.

CHAPTER XLVII.

GROTON .- (Continued).

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES.

Jeremiah George Harris was born at Pequonnoc, in the town of Groton, Conn., Oct. 23, 1809. He is de- scended from two old English families, who came to New England about the time that Governor Winthrop located his colony on the shores of Massachusetts Bay. Over the chancel of the church edifice at Pequonnoc is a memorial window, on which are the following inscriptions : "Christopher Avery, born in England, d. 1681; James Avery, b. 1620, in England, d. 1694 ; James Avery, 2d, b. Dec. 16, 1646, d. Aug. 22, 1728 ;

Ebenezer Avery, b. May 1, 1678, d. July 19, 1752; Elder Parke Avery, b. Dec. 9, 1710, d. March 14, 1797 ; Lieut. Parke Avery, b. March 22, 1741, d. Dec. 20, 1821; Youngs Avery, b. April 2, 1767, d. May 30, 1837.'' Mary, eldest daughter of Youngs Avery, born Jan. 19, 1790, was on the 25th of November, 1807, married to Richard Harris, of Norwich, with whom she had two children, Jeremiah and Erastus, and died at Groton, Feb. 2, 1881.

On the ancestral cenotaph in Groton Cemetery are the following inscriptions :

" WALTER HARRIS, b. in England, 1600, d. at New London, 1654. GABRIEL HARRIS, son of Walter, b. 1630-d. 1684. JOHN HARRIS, son of Gabriel, b. 1663-d. 1740. RICHARD HARRIS, son of John, b. 1700-d. 1751.

JEREMIAH HARRIS, son of Richard, b. 1745-d. 1797. RICHARD HARRIS, son of Jeremiah, b. 1786-d. 1816. JEREMIAHI GEORGE, son of Richard, b. 1809 .-

JOSEPHI EWING, son of Jeremiah George, b. 1843-d. 1865.

Renascentur. RICHARD HARRIS.

HUSBAND OF

MARY AVERY HARRIS, Died and was buried at sea Sept. 1816, aged 30 years. THEIR SON ERASTUS RICHARD, Died and was buried at Pequonoc, May, 1838, aged 26 years."

When Christopher Avery and son James came to Salem, in 1630, they proceeded at once to the farms adjacent to the European fishing-station on Cape Ann, and settled there as farmers, taking a leading part in local affairs that resulted in establishing the town of Gloucester. Later in life they moved to the then far West, and were among the first who settled at the mouth of the Thames and in the valley of the Pequonoc. It was in 1632 that Walter Harris set- tled with his young family at Weymouth, on the western shore of the bay. As Christopher Avery was influenced by the youthful aspirations of his son James to follow the western way of the star of empire, so was Walter Harris influenced by his eldest son Gabriel. Even at that early period of our history there seems to have been a prevailing desire of the young men to move westward, and we find both these families at the mouth of the Thames as early as 1650, taking a leading part in the formation of the first settlement of Europeans in New London County.

Mr. Harris became a journalist as soon as he was of age, beginning his career as associate editor of the Political Observer at New London in 1830, afterwards editor of the New Bedford Daily Gazette, and then acquiring celebrity at Boston as a political writer, he was invited in 1838 by distinguished men of Wash- ington City to go to Tennessee, where he established the Nashville Union, which reflected the influential political opinions of Gen. Andrew Jackson, and rep- resented the rising fortunes of James K. Polk from congressman to Governor and President.

It is well said by a leading journal that in this con-

Iler Haris. -ـ

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GROTON.

nection it is not uninteresting to the people of New London County to recall the fact that nearly half a century ago, when the two great political parties of the country were almost as equally divided as they are now, with Henry Clay, of Kentucky, in the lead of the Whigs, and Andrew Jackson, of Tennessee, in the lead of the Democrats, two young men, natives of this county, were invited from the North to con- duct the two leading journals of the West, and shadow forth to the country the ruling opinions and policy of those two distinguished leaders of men, as eman- ating from them in their retiracy at Ashland and the Hermitage.

George D. Prentice, of Jewett City, had been called to Louisville, Ky., to conduct the Journal as the voice 'of Mr. Clay, and J. George Harris, of Groton, was invited to Nashville, Tenn., as editor of the Union. It was a time when Jackson and Clay were regarded, in the language of the day, as " the embodiment of the principles of their parties" respectively, and the Journal and Union became perfectly oracular in poli- tics. From their exposed position at the front, when Kentucky and Tennessee were frontier States, where the people were to a great extent a law unto them- selves, these New London boys had repeatedly to stand fire with the wild elements of Western politics. Of course they were wide as the poles asunder, as the representatives of their respective parties in the political arena, but their own personal relations, es- tablished here at an early day, were never disturbed, although, for the amusement of the public, they did a good deal of sharpshooting at each other between Louisville and Nashville with their quills, which had a tendency rather to strengthen than weaken friend- ship. The early prestige of the Journal as the voice of Mr. Clay, and of the Union as that of Gen. Jack- son, established their influence on a foundation so firm that it is still maintained by them in the South- west, and in all public affairs they now have wider influence beyond the mountains than any other politi- cal newspapers.

In 1842, Mr. Harris married Lucie McGavock, daughter of James McGavock, of Nashville, Tenn., with whom he had two children, Joseph Ewing and Lucie. The former had a brilliant but short career, and was a young man of fine talents and great prom- ise. He died in London, England, Aug. 28, 1865, aged twenty-two, and his remains were brought to the family vault in Groton Cemetery. The latter married Dr. Van S. Lindsley, of Nashville, Tenn., April 16, 1868, and their children are Georgie, Harris, Lucien, and Joseph.

Mr. Harris was commissioned in 1843 by Daniel Webster, then Secretary of State, as a commercial agent for Europe, and went abroad in that capacity. If we may judge from his voluminous reports to the State Department, of which so large a number of extra copies were printed by the United States Sen- ate, his services were highly appreciated.

After Mr. Polk's election to the Presidency he in- vited Mr. Harris to conduct the official paper at Washington, which he declined, as he had before declined the editorship of the Madisonion, the official paper of Mr. Tyler's administration. Preferring a life-service in the navy to temporary civil service, Mr. Harris accepted in 1845 a commission as disburs- ing officer of the navy, which commission, with pro- motions to the highest rank of his grade, he still holds on the list of officers retired for long and faithful services.

The official and personal relations of Mr. Harris in the naval service have ever been exceedingly happy. In Hamersly's "Records of Living Naval Officers" it is stated that Pay Director J. George Harris was attached to the Gulf Squadron in 1846-47, and during the Mexican war he was a member of Commodore M. C. Perry's staff on all his shore expeditions; that he was at the capture of Tuxpan, Tabasco, and Vera Cruz, receiving from the commodore special letters of thanks for services rendered afloat and ashore ; that from 1850 to 1854, inclusive, he was attached to the Asiatic fleet, and again with Commodore Perry when the empire of Japan was opened to the com- merce of the world.

In his introductory report of the Japan expedition Commodore Perry makes special mention of the aid he had received from Mr. Harris in preparing his volumes for the use of Congress.

After the treaty with the Japanese was concluded, in April, 1854, in the tents that had been erected for the purpose on the beach of Yeddo Bay, the ship to which Mr. Harris was attached brought it to the United States, having made a cruise of nearly five years.

Mr. Harris spent two years on the coast of Africa, in the fleet appointed to suppress the slave-trade, and his journals, made while on the shores of Liberia and Guinea, were copiously used by Mr. Gurley, the gov- ernment agent at Liberia, in his reports to Congress. For two years he was attached to the Mediterranean Squadron. On that cruise he sent home to public in- stitutions some rare and curious antiquities, which are considered the very best specimens of their kind. During the civil war he held some of the most re- sponsible positions of trust in the navy, both ashore and afloat, disbursing several millions of public money without the slightest deficit or loss to the govern- ment.

In his eventful career Mr. Harris' devotion to his native county has never abated. The great-grandson of William Latham, who commanded at Fort Gris- wold up to the time that Col. Ledyard took command, on the morning of the battle, and also of Parke Avery, his lieutenant, as well as kinsman of many others who fought and fell in the conflict, he took an early and active interest in the plans for the repair and enlarge- ment of Groton Monument, and in making prepara- tion for the centennial celebration.

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HISTORY OF NEW LONDON COUNTY, CONNECTICUT.

At the organization of the Groton Heights Centen- nial Committee, in 1879, he was elected president of the Centennial Commission, and his administration of its affairs, that resulted in such perfect success on the 6th and 7th of September, 1881, was characterized by good judgment and executive ability. His thorough knowledge of the early annals of the county, and of Revolutionary events of a hundred years ago, that he learned in his boyhood from the lips of his aged an- cestors, who had participated in them, found expres- sion, during preparation for the centennial, in the fol- lowing rythmical narrative of the truths of history, replete with beautiful pen-pictures of actual occur- rences and local scenery, followed by graphic illus- trations of aboriginal manners, customs, and misfor- tunes, which we are permitted to reproduce as appro- priate to the pages of our county history.

THE PEQUOT SHADE.

An Indian princess of the Pequot tribe, Arrayed in toilet of the blissful realms, Where her lost people realize their faith In boundless hunting-grounds beyond the tomb, Came soaring up with the next morning sun, Wrapt in the wraithlike robes of vapory mist That from the dewy meadows rose and rolled In white, ethereal flecces o'er the Heights.

Around her graceful neck and shoulders hung A royal triple strand of purple beads, Made for the sachems and the sagamores From sapphire spots inside the quahaug shell.

She swathed the creamy drapery round her waist, Threw back her floating locks of raven hair, As tears that fell from her great lustrous eyes Glistened like dewdrops on her pallid cheeks, Waved her brown arms, adorned with glittering gems Of rarest pink and blue and violet shells, Dearer to her than diamonds, gold, or pearls; Gazed round upon the sadly-stricken field, And mourned in sympathy with those who wept Beside the slain within the fort below.

"So did we grieve with broken hearts (she cried), So fell our people all along these Heights When we were the sole sovereigns of this soil, One hundred four and forty years ago. 'Tis all of record in the Spirit lands,- Ilow the rude white man came with fire and sword, Burnt and destroyed our sweet and sacred homes We loved so much, that stood upon these lawns, Spangled with dandelions and buttercups, As night's clear skies are studded with the stars, And ere our braves could rally in defense Fled to their waiting ships and sailed away.

" These shores, where brilliant sea-shells so abound, Were our rich mines,-our California,- Won by our valor on a fair-fought field By gallant braves with arrow and with bow,- A better title than your paper deeds That no one ever ventured to dispute,- Until John Endicott, with ninety men, Armed to the teeth, from Massachusetts Bay, Plunged in our midst, like hawks among the doves, Pretending falsely we had slain their friends, Demanding what our people could not give, And then provoked exterminating war.

" They came from lands where money governs all,- Their love of it had brought them to our shores,- Their idol was our coin, with which to get From the interior tribes our wealth of furs,

So much desired for use beyond the seas, Which their own gold and silver could not buy.

" We, who were free as joyous mountain-birds, They tried to bind in slavery to their will By treaties formed with heavy wampum-fines, Made to be broke-the robber's shrewd device --- In terms that we could never understand ; And, failing, then they came with force of arms To seize our mines and steal our native land.

" Ye should not wonder we prepared for war, Hardened our hearts against our enemies, Bent our best bows and filled our quivers full, Placed women, children, and our aged sires Within the wigwams on Pequonne plains, And kept our watch-fires lighted on the hills Around them, as they made the crops of corn, Cut shells with our rude implements of flint, Strung garlands of the glittering wampumpeage, And trapped the alewives at the river-ford, While Sassaeus held court at his stronghold On yonder height, o'erlooking sea and land, Sent his young braves to guard the mystic hills Against Miantonomoh and his men, But never dreamed our western Saybrook foes Could possibly attack our east frontier, For we had never learned the gross deceit Of cultured warriors, now called strategy.

"But, sad to tell, as in the Mystic fort Our people soundly slept, near early dawn, Just as the full moon had gone down to rest, They came in force, with Narragansett aid, And like the fell Destroying Angel came, Rushed through the matting screens on either side, With fire-sped bullets, spears, and blazing torch, Burnt everything, and massacred us all As your brave men were butchered yesterday.

" We mourn with you at the soul-sickening scene, Where mercy to the captive was not shown ; But now ye know how bled the Indian heart When fathers, brothers, dear as yours to you, Were in this manner slain within our fort; When our young braves, your prisoners of war, Were bound and carried to West Indian isles By austere Massachusetts Puritans, And sold for money as plantation slaves, Or taken out beyond your harbor's mouth And forced to walk a plauk and drown themselves, For which ye impiously gave thanks to God.

" We brood not o'er our people's grievous wrongs, For such was war, war of the ancient years, That silenced human laws and laws divine, Proclaiming the old rule that might is right, And that the strongest always must survive. The poisoned chalice comes back to your lips,- We who have drank it know its bitterness,- A century and a half hath done its work, Then let the curtain drop before the scene. The Indian had no written chronicle, No records of his country, and he heard No philosophic voices from the past, Save mere traditions, household memories, And legendary stories of his tribe, His tale is told by his proud vanquishers, And given to the world as history.

" Ye knew us net, and called us savages, Without the neighbor's love or tenderness, But we ne'er whipt, nor hanged, nor cropt the ears Of those who could not share our own belief. We sheltered them whene'er they fled from you Under the pelting of the winter storm, As we did Roger Williams, whom ye call The great apostle of soul liberty.

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GROTON.

"Ye know us not, we children of the woods ; Ye called us heathen, godless, and devoid Of revelation such as ye receive ; But Kutchion, the Great Spirit, we believe, And see His mysteries and miracles In all the glorious things that He hath made. The sun and moon and the full-jeweled sky, With all the elements of earth and air, Tell us of Him who reigns in the free hearts Of His brown children to the forest born, Who never gave us culture of the schools, Nor doth require that which He did not give. He knows how great our provocations were, How the first straggling traders cheated us, And with forbidden Justs disturbed our peace, Until our wrath was that of righteousness.

" Time in its ever-onward, changeless course, Beating its pendulum from age to age, A perfect equilibrium preserves, Makes all things even, history repeats : You had your Arnold, we our Wequash had, Who, like the traitor you so much despise, Was born and reared here on Mohegan's banks ; Both once beloved, both are alike condemned For piloting their people's enemies To the loved homes of those who gave them birth.

" Lo, the hereafter ! Let us not repine At the inevitable must-have-been, We have a voice in that which is to be, The might-have-been was never in our grasp. To-day is ours. The guiding beacon-lights Of ever-present, everlasting now, That brightly blaze along the shores of life, Resplendent on our duty's pathway shine. And to the future throw their beams of hope; Then let oblivion's gulf surge o'er the past And drown remembrance of its deeds of death, As we baptize our souls in living streams Of mercy and forgiveness from on high. But still, beware ! Your liberties were ours- We lost them, lost our country and our race. Beware, beware ! nor tempt your destiny.

" Our star of empire rose in the far west, And crossed against the sun. It now hath set. Yours rose in the far east, and on it goes, Casting effulgent beams around the world.

" The spell dissolves. Your red and rising sun, That comes to warm and waken all the earth, So painful to my sight, absorbs the mist. I go again unto the Great Beyond, The happy and delightful far-away, Where the calm mountains to the heavens rise, Clad in green velvet and cerulean robes, Forever tinged with sunset's golden glow.

" Adieu to all these dear, familiar scenes, Scenes of my people's sorrows, joys, and tears ; Of childhood's sportive, innocent delights; Of youthful aspirations, bridal hopes; Fields where the sower and the reaper toiled And bound the autumn's ripened, yellow sheaves; Bright, smiling valleys and secluded dells, Where we coninmned with silent plants and flowers, Selected healthful, aromatic herbs And graceful, swaying ferns of maidenhair; Wide waving woods, where the arbutus trailed Its fragrant blossoms, herald of the spring, First blush of beauty from the bursting buds ; Where great white lilies, with their golden hearts, Floated like fairy-queens on woodland ponds, Loading the morning air with fresh perfume; Where broad-crowned chestnut and tall walnut-trees, Vocal with music of the merry birds, Showered down their brown and ripe nutritious fruit On shaded play-grounds of the little ones;

Meadows whence floral exhalations rose Up o'er the hills with rhododendrons crowned, Where we were wont to glory in the chase; Streams from perennial springs in quiet glens, Rippling along between their rushy banks, Under the willows and the tangled vines, Still singing the same songs they sang of yore, Alive with mountain-trout, wherein we caught Otters and beavers for their silken furs; The glassy Sound, on which our fathers roamed And sped their light and beautiful canoes, Amid the sparkling spray and sunny sheen Flashed from their arrowy swiftness o'er the sea ; The breezy shores, on which we gathered shells And egg-like pebbles, fair and smoothly worn By billowy attrition on the sands, In fancy baskets that our mothers made; These, and the spots where our ancestors repose Beneath the little daisy-covered mounds, Farewell ! farewell ! forever fare ye well ! Time flies apace. No more Kutchion commands ; We meet again in the great Spirit lands."

Thus closed the vision of the phantom-maid That hovered o'er the Heights,-the Pequot Shade.

GROTON HEIGHTS (FORT GRISWOLD), SEPT. 6, 1781, ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

On through the darkness of a cloudy night, Like gloomy spectres brooding o'er the deep, With canvas spread before light southern airs, A naval squadron worked its noiseless way Over the quiet waters of the Sound; And, as the golden radiance of the dawn Began to gild the steeple-spires on shore And play around the peak of Lantern Hill, That last of landmarks to the outward bound And first to greet him with a welcome home, They met with baffling winds and ebbing tides, Beat up and down, and cast their sounding-leads Abreast the ancient Pequot Harbor's mouth, Then neared the land, and furled their flapping sails, As soaring ospreys closely fold their wings For swift descent upon discovered prey.

The royal ensign and crossed Union-jack Announced the then proud mistress of the seas As convoy of a British transport-fleet, Laden with all the appliances of war For hostile demonstration on our coast ; And shimmering in the sun, the polished arms Of regiments in scarlet coats were seen, Paraded and prepared to take the field.

There stood upon the flag-ship's quarter-deck A fallen champion of our country's cause, Who knew the bearings of the land too well, Where on both sides the wide and waveless Thames, Glistening like burnished steel from bank to bank, The purple hilltops on each other rose In the far distance, even to its source, Casting their shadows o'er familiar scenes Around his native home.

There he stood, In chief command, surrounded by his staff, With open chart marked off as for a guide, Delivering orders and explaining plans, His arm uplifted and his finger raised In the direction of the batteries Booming with private signals of alarm That he had learned, and had kept up Continued fire from the invading fleet Their rallying indications to pervert.

He knew how small the force was to be met, The weakness of the points to be assailed ; He knew that six long years of wasting war Had drafted many fighting-men away ;

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HISTORY OF NEW LONDON COUNTY, CONNECTICUT.

That all the gallant seamen of the port Were then abroad nyon the privateers; That not a hundred well-armed men were left The women and the children to protect ; That in Fort Trumbull, then a mere redoubt, Less than two dozen soldiers served the guns ; That Griswold's armament was incomplete, And the small garrison so unprepared Perchance an early, vigorous attack Its prompt capitulation might assure ; And, facing his battalions of renown, How utterly defenseless was the town !

On either hand, with frontage to the sea, The snow-white beaches curved around, Where from the slumbering ocean's gentle swell O'erlapping wavelets softlv kissed the shore And whispered in the sparkling silver foam Fretting the pearly borders of the sand ; And there he bade them land in equal force, Two grand divisions, separate of command, And carry both the river-sides at once. Winding their way along up o'er the hills, Then covered with full crops of ripening corn, Its broad and graceful leafage, flowery tops, And flossy tassels of the bronzing ears Aglow with early autumn's mellow hues, Brimful of promise for the harvest-home, He bade them hasten on without delay, Under the foliage of adjacent woods, Fiercely attack and capture by surprise The noisy batteries with their signal-guns, That wero awakening all the country round; And if too stubbornly they made a stand, To burn, destroy, and desolate the land.

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History of New London county, Connecticut : with biographical sketches of many of its pioneers and prominent men, Part 111

Author: Hurd, D. Hamilton (Duane Hamilton) Publication date: 1882 Publisher: Philadelphia : J.W. Lewis & Co. Number of Pages: 1317

Author: Hurd, D. Hamilton (Duane Hamilton)
Publication date: 1882
Publisher: Philadelphia : J.W. Lewis & Co.
Number of Pages: 1317