USA > Connecticut > New London County > Stonington > Old homes in Stonington : with additional chapters and graveyard inscriptions > Part 17
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I remember well the Joshua Swan house, situated just east of the Congregational Church. I think Mr. Swan was a shoemaker. His eld- est son, Capt. Joshua, was a man respected in the community, but he had one habit which amused the children. When walking in the street, if he saw an acquaintance a few rods away approaching, he would throw back his head and raise his chin and when he passed the person he would let his head drop down again to its normal position by way of greeting. The son Jabez was a genius who inherited his peculiarities as a preacher from his mother. She was a tall, gifted woman with little culture, but possessed of a good deal of force. I have heard her exhort in the Baptist prayer meetings with such impressiveness as to make the sinners in Zion and out of Zion tremble. Her voice was shrill and made the glass in the windows tinkle. After Elder Jabez returned home from the drill of the Theological school, the first sermon he preached was in the Congregational church. It was such a kind of sermon as any young Congregational or Episcopal minister would preach, but he soon broke off the fetters that the training school had fastened on him and gave himself up to the impetus that was born in him, for he was his mother's son
As you entered the lane or street that led to the meeting house, out of Main street, there stood on the corner the two-story house formerly occupied by Zebulon Stanton, the silversmith. He worked in a small ell or office extending north from his house. The next building south was occupied by his son Jonathan, who made furniture and coffins. Still further south, on the corner of the cross street, stood William Rodman's dwelling, and immediately across Front street, on the opposite corner, was the York place which was built for a tavern and had a long ell running north from the house that contained quite a spacious hall for dancing and other purposes. On the north side of the street running
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west towards the Morrell house, the dwelling houses were: first, the house of Mr. Weld or Welles, who had a dwarf son, David, about three and a half feet tall, whom the boys used to call "Creeper;" further along was the house of Peter Crary, the birthplace of the wealthy Crary brothers of New York city and of their sister, Mrs. Daniel Lord. The names of the brothers were Edward (a bachelor), Peter and John.
Next to this house you came to the big gate which faced the head of Water street, but there was then no road connecting it with the road running north to the Bridge and Cove, but just south of the salt works was a cross road so that teams moving out of the village by way of Front street could cross over to the road which leads north by the Grandison barn and to the Mystics. I well remember the interest of all when Water street was extended through the Robinson pasture to the Mystic road.
This gate then opened into a large lot of unoccupied land called "The Robinson Pasture" where later stood the Wadawanuck hotel and where now stands the (colored) Third Baptist church and many other build- ings. This lot was originally more or less covered with large rocks, which being blasted and broken up, constituted a large part of the rough material of which the breakwater was built by Capt. Charles H. Smith, the contractor. In the northwest corner of this pasture was the Robinson Burying Ground, which can now be seen, and among other stones is one set there to the memory of Capt. William A. Fanning, who died and was buried at sea. On the stone a verse of Mrs. Hemans' poetry is engraved:
The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one;
He lies where pearls lie deep,
He was the loved of all, yet none
O'er his low grave may weep.
Directly west of the gate into the Robinson pasture was the house of old Mr. Burtch, whose daughter married Peleg Hancox, and later he built a new house on this site. The next house at the west was occupied for a time by John Kirby (the teacher at the Academy). He kept as boarders boys who attended school, two of whom were John and Joshua Hyde from Mystic. Still further along was the Sanford house, where Uncle Joshua and Aunt Betsey lived unmarried. Everybody loved them for their genial character. They had a brother Joe, who was mentally defective. He was a large man, frequently seen on the streets with a cane in his hand, saluting people whom he knew. He was quite bright and would talk intelligently but never learned to read. He was not harmful or abusive unless ill used, when he became wrathful and vio- lent. In warm weather he went barefoot but otherwise he was always well dressed and he had a great penchant for gathering canes. Nothing pleased him so well as to receive a gift of a cane, of which he had a large collection at his home.
The Joe Palmer dwelling stood beyond on the south side of the street. There were in that house several children whom I well remember; Joe, a red headed boy named James, and the sister who married Rev. Chas. W. Denison. The tract of land at the head of Lambert's Cove belonged
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to the Joe Palmer family and was called "Uncle Joe's woods." It was a favorite place for the boys to play ball. Afterwards the land was called "Walnut Grove," and later Mr. James I. Day built a mansion there. On the south side of the street, nearly opposite the house of Mr. Wells, was an old house bought by William Woodbridge and enlarged and improved by him for a dwelling and school room.
I recall also another personage who was made the butt of the boys in the village; he was ordinarily intelligent, a fair scholar in school, but his reasoning powers were deficient, his knowledge of things limited and his memory weak. His name was Joe. Hiscox. His father was a caulker, and had often in his work to use tar, pitch and turpentine, which Joe would bring to him when needed. One day his mother want- ed some pearlash and ginger to complete her preparation for baking and charged Joe with the errand to go to the store and get the articles. Knowing the liability of the boy to forgetfulness, she repeated the names of the articles over and over again to him, so he started on his errand, saying to himself, "pearlash and ginger, pearlash and ginger, I hain't forgot it yet." Directly he stubbed his toe and fell; on rising to his feet he scratched his head trying to recall his errand. "Oh yes, I haint forgot it yet, tar, pitch and turpentine, I haint forgot it yet." His mother could do no baking that day and the boys got hold of the story and plagued Joe unmercifully.
As for Zebbie Hancox (whom many yet remember), I recall that he was bright and quick to learn in his younger years and a great reader. When the first Sunday school was opened in Stonington, Zebbie and I belonged to the same class and Dr. David Hart was the teacher. The exercises consisted of repeating passages of Scripture and hymns com- mitted to memory. The scholar who learned and repeated the largest number of verses correctly stood the highest in the class on the roll and received cards of the highest merit. There were four grades of cards, each one of which was about as large as a man's thumb. The lowest in value had printed on it the sentence "Good Behavior," the third and highest, "Search the Scriptures." At the end of the season which lasted six months those who had received the largest number of the highest cards were rewarded with books of some value, the rewards being graded down to those who had learned the fewest verses or had been remiss in behavior or attendance. I remember that Zebbie beat every member of the school as he could repeat whole chapters of the Bible without an error, so that Dr. Hart would get tired hearing his lesson. Later he became a clerk in the store of Peleg Hancox and while in that position he fell in love with a young lady belonging to one of the leading families in town, but on being jilted, as it was said, he became partially unbalanced in his mind and as an old saying goes was "love cracked," so forsaking his business and social intercourse he lived the remainder of his days a hermit's life. He built a cabin on Diving street near the water and became an expert and successful fisherman. He could often be seen on the streets in the afternoon, on his return from a fishing cruise, peddling his fish from an old wheelbarrow. He lived alone in his hut allowing no visitors. Jealously carrying his money on
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his person, on being expostulated with by his friends for not depositing his funds in a bank, his reply was "that if he was drowned, the money would be an inducement to somebody to fish up his body and give him a decent burial." In his later years he became more careful of his funds, building up quite a district of houses near the water and left quite a large sum in the bank for his near relatives at his death.
As you look across the bay that sets up in the east of the village of Stonington boro, you see two or three little islands showing themselves above the water. The further one, less prominent than the others, but distinctly outlined at low tide, is what is called "Rhodes Folly." It has an interesting tradition connected with it. In the Colonial days, before the adoption of the United States Constitution, the different colonies were independent of one another, in fact, were little sovereign- ties and enacted their own respective laws. These laws, especially in regard to tariffs on imported goods, often conflicted with one another, and what was dutiable in one colony would be admitted free in another adjoining colony. In order to make money out of this state of affairs a man by the name of Rhodes built a store-house on a little reef which was supposed to be the dividing line between Connecticut and Rhode Island, so that the west half of the building should be in Connecticut and the east half in Rhode Island. Goods imported from the West In- dies (rum, sugar, tobacco) or from other foreign countries that were dutiable in Conn., he would store on the Rhode Island side of the build- ing and goods dutiable in Rhode Island he would pack on the other side and so when the revenue officers from either colony came to arrest him as a smuggler, or to confiscate his goods, he would retreat and move his stores from one side to the other, according to circumstances, and thus escape all penalty. I never knew the issue of his experiment but as the remaining foundations of his building bear the sobriquet of "Fol- ly" I conclude that his profits were not large.
It has passed into a proverb that sailors are notorious spinners of yarns. In pleasent weather at sea they have a good many leisure hours which they seek to make cheery by telling stories and they often become very inventive in that line. In my boyhood the greater portion of the male inhabitants of the boro were either active or retired sailors or were connected in business relations with sailors, hence whenever the men gathered in the stores or public places they usually expected to have a jolly time by telling stories, and he that could reel off the stran- gest and most increditable whopper carried off the palm. The habit was so attractive and contageous that the farmers who came to the village to trade enjoyed it as much and as heartily as the villagers themselves. As I was accustomed to assist my father in his store out of school hours it was a source of great amusement to me to listen to the jolly talk of the customers. One of these was an old man who was accustomed to spin incredible yarns with such a look of assurance on his face as to give the impression that he really believed them, and nothing pleased a gathered company so much as to start him off on his strange experiences. I will give an example of Uncle Harry's yarns. He was a rope maker bv trade, and near by the rope walk, where he
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worked, there was a very rich lot of land that he claimed was more productive than any other in town. One day in the late summer he was standing by an open window of the rope walk and he heard an unusual sound as of a small multitude of people talking though he could not dis- tinguish what they said. He looked this way and that, but saw no one, and listening carefully he became convinced that the sounds came from the ground: so getting out of the window he applied his ear close to the surface where potatoes were growing, and he distinctly heard the words "Move along, move along," coming from the potato hills and discovered that the potatoes were growing so fast and so large that they were nudging their neighbors for room to spread themselves. Again, as he was on a hunting excursion along the shore carrying an old-fashioned fowling piece, he saw at a distance several wild ducks feeding. Loading his gun in haste he moved carefully towards them and fired. What was his surprise to find that six ducks, shot through the eyes, were strung on his ramrod, which in his excitement he had not withdrawn after loading.
Uncle Harry was usually followed by a reddish brown cur, by the name of Romeo, whose worth was above all valuation. Pointing to the scales on the counter of the store, he said that if Romeo was put in one scale and gold enough in the other to tip the beam, the gold would not buy him. As an ilustration of the dog's intelligence, he said that "one day his wife was cooking doughnuts while Romeo lay on the floor near- by watching the operation. There were no cooking stoves in those days, the baking was done in a brick oven, built into the chimney or common- ly in the open fire place, the iron pots and kettles being furnished with bails which were hung over the fire by hooks attached to a crane, or skillets and spiders with long iron handles were set over live coals drawn out on the hearth. One day Uncle Harry's wife had drawn out a heap of live coals and having put her lard into a skillet she set it on the coals to be heated, but just as she had dropped the twisted slices of dough into the hot lard she was called out of the room by a violent knock at the outside door. After being detained several minutes she hurried back, expecting to find the doughnuts spoiled, when to her sur- prise she found that Romeo was equal to the emergency, as he had ap- plied one of his forepaws to the long iron handle of the skillet and was gently teetering it up and down, thus saving the doughnuts from being burned."
The house of Miss Mary Howe recalls old times strikingly, and her father, Capt. George. She was the seventh child and gained the repu- tation of being able to cure certain diseases by manipulation. In my boyhood I had a swelling on my neck and my mother, being alarmed by the suggestion that I was afflicted with the disease called "King's Evil," she was advised to send me to her for treatment. So I went and Miss Howe set me down in a chair and standing behind me rubbed my neck up and down with her hands. For several weeks this was kept up every few days. The swelling gradually disappeared and has never returned, but I have no confidence in the seventh child theory, although a cure was effected.
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On the west side of Front street, nearly opposite the mansion of the late Charles P. Williams, is located the two-story house once owned by Oliver Burdick, used formerly as a tavern. He was a shoemaker and kept a small store. His legs were not of equal length, which caused him to swing the upper part of his body back and forth through quite an arc of a circle when he walked. He boarded and took care of an old colored Revolutionary soldier named Peter Nubb, whose pension paid the ex- penses of his care. Old Peter was quite infirm, but he had a good seat provided for him in front of the house, where he could sit in pleasant weather. All the villagers knew him and oftentimes would stop and ex- change a few words with him. He loved to tell the boys stories about the war and when he felt good natured he would, at their request, stand on his feet, and using his cane for a musket, go through with the regu- lar military exercise and show how fields were won. He was not as amiable as old Cato at the Road, but pleasant when well treated.
On Water street is now seen the long, low house of old Dr. William Hyde, of whom many stories are yet told of his real kindness of heart, though brusque manner, and his wife, who was as good a nurse as he was doctor. This little story about them is well worth relating. Mrs. Hyde was an inveterate housekeeper, seldom visiting her neighbors or friends, or even going to church. She seemed to feel that, having mar- rid a physician, her chief duty, after caring for her children, was to help and co-operate with him in his professional work. She ever held herself
ready to see all who called to consult him and to wait upon those who came to the office for medicine, while she ever administered to his wants when he returned fatigued from visiting his patients day and night. When at one time her health began to decline she was obliged to take to her bed and not withstanding all the measures the Doctor employed to raise her up she continued to grow weaker, and what especially ag- gravated the case in his view, was that though naturally of a cheerful disposition she seemed greatly depressed in mind. She lost hope and courage and yielded to the impression that she was going to die. She told him she did not want to live any longer. This alarmed him, and with tears in his eyes he pleaded with her. "Why, Rhoda if you die who will take care of me ? we have lived together so many years and my success and endurance have depended on your faithful care of me and now if you die, I shall die too. Wont you try to live and get well for my sake?" Deeply moved by this appeal, she replied, "How can I help myself with this disease dragging me down?" "Oh, yes, you can if you will try. You know how to nurse yourself. Now make up your mind that you will try to get well. You have been such a good wife that I can't live without you. Don't leave me alone, as I am growing old. Promise me that you will use every means to gain strength and re- cover ? Moved and nerved by his earnest pleading she promised him that she would try. The result was that she did slowly recover her health and reached a cheerful old age, outliving her husband more than eleven years.
Opposite Dr. Hyde's was a low, gambrel-roofed house in which resid- ed Edward Hancox and his daughter Prudence. Uncle Neddy, as he
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was called, was a venerable, godly man in the eighties, who could usu- ally be seen on comfortable days walking the street for exercise. Al- most all his reading was that of the Scriptures, and he made it a rule to read them through every year and had the Bible been lost he could have repeated much of it from memory. He was loved and venerated by everybody. What is worthy of note was the beautiful affection which existed between him and his daughter. His other children were either dead or scattered abroad, but she cared as tenderly for him as a baby. She almost always called him "My pretty dear," and refused all offers of marriage as long as he lived. After his death she married John Breed and took up her family residence in the second house below, which was owned by the family and there she and her husband were tenderly cared for by her husband's niece, Emily Breed.
The next house south of the Amos Sheffield home in my boyhood was owned and occupied by Dea. David G. Smith. The family consisted of the deacon, his wife and daughter Betsey. Mrs. Smith was much de- voted to the culture of flowers. To this culture she devoted the whole garden in the rear of the house and she could be seen almost every pleasant day in the spring sowing the seeds, trimming and transplanting shrubs, loosening and enriching the soil. In the late afternoons and during the hot summer weather she did not fail to sprinkle her flower borders with refreshing water and as I now recall the pleasure I derived from looking over the dividing fence into that garden it seems to me that I never saw tulips, pinks, sweet Williams and peonies, roses and asters so beautiful as hers. The daughter Betsey was much admired for her personal charms and accomplishments and when on the morn- ing after her marriage to Charles P. Williams the happy pair started off in their private carriage on their wedding tour they carried with them the good wishes of a multitude of friends.
After the death of Deacon and Mrs. Smith and the burning of their house in the great fire, Capt. Williams built a costly house on the old site and subsequently having purchased the Doctor Phelps place on the east side of the village he formed the purpose to remove this new house to that more desirable location and to that end he made arrangement with the owners of the Amos Sheffield place for permission to cut their garden down to the level of Front street, at his own expense, so that the removal could be conveniently effected in that direction. Consequently Dr. Phelps house was marched down to Harmony street and the new house took its place, constituting the principal part of the present con- spicuous mansion.
The house on the north of the Amos Sheffield home called the Na- thaniel Miner house, has had within my remembrance several different occupants and by the changing of the gambrel roof on the west side for a regular slope has been made the present three story structure. In my early boyhood it was occupied by Capt. Horatio Lewis. He was a cooper and used this lower story for a workshop, while the upper floor was devoted to family use. The earliest sounds I usually heard in the morning were those of this workman shaping his staves or driving his
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hoops, or perhaps solacing his labor with a cheery song. On his mov- ing to New York state, a Mr. Williston, tinner, carried on business here and the music I usually heard then was a change from that of coopering of barrels to the tinkling of tin and sheet iron. In the course of two or three years afterwards Mrs. Honor States bought the place and trans- formed the old work shop into a convenient store for the sale of dry goods, light groceries and fruits. Mrs. States' first husband was a Latham by whom she had a son Lodowick, and two or three daughters. Her second husband was a Mr. States who worked in the pottery on the east side of the village near the water. During the life of her second husband, and I know not but previously also, she lived in the house on the southwest corner of Harmony and Front street and kept a small store there. On the death of Mr. States she obtained possession of the Nathaniel Miner House and transferred her business to it. Capt. Horn who married one of her daughters, with his wife carried on the house- keeping in the upper story, while Mrs. States was assisted in her store by, her son. After her death this son Lodowick, continued the business in the same place for several years and then having bought the Amos Sheffield house he moved his business to the store formerly occupied by Enoch S. Chesebrough.
The house across Water street, immediately west of the Amos Shef- field home, was long ago the residence of Capt. Harris Pendleton. It afterwards passed into the possession of Peleg Hancox, who kept a store for general merchandise immediately south of the house and on his mar- riage to a daughter of Mr. Billings Burtch he began housekeeping therein, renting the chambers to small families for short periods. Mrs. Luke Palmer, who had previously lived in the east part of the town, where her husband had died in 1822 moved into these chambers in which she made her home for a number of years. It was while her family was residing here that Capt. Daniel Carew (who was afterwards lost at sea) became acquainted with her daughter Grace and married her in 1830.
In calling to mind the state of things eighty years ago, I am forcibly struck with the changes that have taken place in the trades and occu- pations of the people. By the concentration of every department of business in great corporations and the facilities for travel, the trans- portation of goods afforded by steamboats and railroads, the small manufacturers of the old country villages have ceased to find profitable employment and have passed away.
Early in the history of the Point the merchant stores were in the north and central portions of the village. In my childhood there was a store kept by Samuel Trumbull on the corner of Front street and the East road, covering the ground in front of the present Congregational church, and there at one time was the post office. Samuel Denison owned a store located on the southeast corner of Front and Grand streets of which George Meacham was the clerk, but after the atten- tion of business men was turned to shipping cheese to New York and to fitting out vessels for sealing and whaling voyages, stores for the sale of merchandise were mostly confined to the lower part of Water street.
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