USA > Connecticut > New London County > Stonington > Old homes in Stonington : with additional chapters and graveyard inscriptions > Part 2
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OLD HOMES IN STONINGTON
besides the minister, remained over till afternoon. At this time, one can but imagine that many pleasant and cordial greetings were ex- changed and matters that were not strictly religious were discussed. This early custom of expressing hearty interest in one another has lingered even to the present time, when after service a very Babel of tongues is heard in the hall and a joyous laugh does not shock the ears of pastor or people. The. men gather in little groups between the church and sheds, while hearty hand shakes evince their good will to- wards each other.
In 1717, the society had so extended and the population increased to such an extent, that the old meeting-house was too small to accom- modate all the people, so they voted to divide the town into two so- cieties (the east and west), but no definite action was taken (till 1726, when a vote was carried to build a new meeting-house at the centre of the town, or Putnam's Corners, sixty-one persons favoring that lo- cation, but many others preferring the old site at Agreement Hill, there arose heated discussions and each society commenced prepara- tions for building their new meeting-houses. The land on which the house at the Centre stood was given by Mr. Elihu Chesebrough, April 18th, 1728, and under date of Jan. ye 2nd, 1730, is a list which shows "What particular men gave towards building this house." Capt. Thomas Noyes gave £60, Mrs. Noyes, his mother gave £20, Deacon Noyes, £50, Justice Palmer, £70, Deacon Palmer, £40, Capt. Palmer, £30, Mr. Joseph Miner, £50, Insign Breed £20, Samuel Hinkley, £26, Stephen Richardson £25, William Stanton £35, William Bell £10, Nathan Chesebrough, £40, and his mother £10, Elihu Chese- brough, besides the land, £40, Lieut. Samuel Chesebrough, £35, Mrs. Grace Palmer, £70, John Denison, £20. Total-£589. This house at the Center was larger than the other. It was unpainted and had
no steeple. There were three outside doors and two tiers of galleries, one above the other, and an ; immense sounding board above the speaker's head. The eight seats in front of the pulpit were each four feet long, forty-one pews were nearly square and those all around the sides were divided from the centre ones by the alley which was four feet wide. The main alley or aisle was five feet wide. This house was finished in 1740, and it was here that the famous George Whit- field preached the afternoon of July 16th, 1747, and so many people came to hear him that he left the house and spoke to them from a platform erected under the shade of a large elm tree near the church, which is still standing, and the children of the Revolution have placed a placard upon it with this historic event inscribed theron. This church remained here till 1786 when it was taken down and removed to Stonington Borough and rebuilt near the late residence of Mr. Horace N. Trumbull. It was then painted and called the White meet- ing-house.
The new meeting-house, begun at the Road in 1729, was not finished for ten years. It stood a little farther to the south-west than the present one and faced the south. It was built of pine, white wood and cedar, was never painted and had no steeple. The inside was ceiled
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but never lathed or plastered; the windows, two above and below, on the north and south sides, and three above and below, on the east and west sides, were small and had small panes of glass. There were three outside doors, the east and west ones were narrow, but the south door was double and opened into the main body of the house, directly under the high pulpit which faced the north and was seven or eight feet from the floor, reached by steps leading up on either side, Like the Center Church, a large wooden sounding-board was suspend- ed above the minister's head, so that his voice could be heard in all parts of the house. The two long seats just in front of the pulpit had backs and were used by the magistrates and deacons. The body of the house had six large, high, square pews, with uncushioned seats on three sides but none on the side facing the pulpit, and sometimes high backed chairs were placed in them also. These pews opened without doors into the two broad aisles, which run the length of the building, and on either side of these were four pews of the same style, except that the two which adjoined the short aisle from the east and
west entrances, had doors. In plain view of all in the house were the stairs on either side of the pulpit, leading up into the gallery, which ex- tended around three sides, the choir occupying the north side, facing the minister, though sometimes they sat all around the gallery, the men on one side and the women on the other.
In those days no music was heard except the tuning fork or pitch pipe used by Mr. Zebulon Chesebrough to start the tunes, and the voices from all over the house, led by the choir, sang the words, which were lined off by the minister or leader. Usually two lines were read at a time and then sung, thus the melody was carried along. There were many sweet singers in that old church, some of whose names have been told to the children of the present generation. We see
among the men Uncle Zebbe Chesebrough, Mr. John Dean and Mr. Jesse Dean, while on the other side were Miss Debby Denison (the beauty of Quiambaug), Mary Palmer, Mary Stanton, Mr. Zebbe Chesebrough's daughter, with her heavy contralto voice, and that sweet singer Phan- nee Dean, who came with her brother, Jesse, and a large number of goodly young people from Dean's Mills, which was then the business centre of the town.
At this time few carriages were owned in town, so the people came to meeting on horseback, or on foot, and on a pleasant Sunday morning many young men and maidens could be seen walking and carrying their best shoes, to put on just before arriving at the door, while the travel-stained ones were safely hid away behind some friendly rock or tree, to be put on again after meeting, for the journey homeward. For about forty years these two societies acted wholly independent of each other, Mr. Ebenezer Rossiter having been the pastor at the time of the division, continued to preach in the First or West Church in that society, and Rev. Nathaniel Eells became the pastor of the First or East Church in that society and so continued till Mr. Rossiter's death, when in a short time both societies called Mr. Eells to become their minister, so after a separation of thirty-four years, they were again
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re-united with Mr. Eells preaching alternately for six months in each meeting-house for several years.
In 1782 the church on Agreement Hill having stood for about forty years, needed repairs and it was voted "that it be covered, have new doors and windows, and a committee was appointed to make the re- pairs, and if necessary to sell the East meeting-house to make repairs on the West one at Agreement Hill, but it was afterwards voted to repair it by subscription, so the old house was thoroughly renovated
inside and out, under the supervision of Mr. Gilbert Fanning. As the town gave the land on which the church stood, it had the right to hold the King's Court and the Magistrate's Court in the meeting-house from the time the first church was built till 1828, when arrangements were made with the town authorities to build the basement of the present building for town purposes and the society to build the meeting-house for religious purposes alone, which use has been faithfully adhered to, as the town meetings are yet held in the basement. £ Mr. Henry Smith took the contract to build and erected the present house, using some of the timbers and posts which were in the old church; these can still be seen on the east and west sides of this building. The Road Church is still the center of happy influences and many a son and daughter gone into other church homes recalls with joy and pride this dear old mother church, which has for her motto, "He who transplanteth still sustains."
He who transplanted has sustained This Church through centuries, And saints, tho' dead, yet speak to us, In holy memories.
He who transplanted still sustains, Upon Agreement Hill,
His children, who are striving here To do his holy will.
He who transplanted will sustain For ages yet to come,
Till many a faithful one shall hear The plaudit of "Well Done."
CHAPTER TWO
Who saith, "I am a farmer," doth proclaim A noble calling with an humble name.
Nearly all the early planters who came here sprang from the bet- ter classes, and a large proportion of them from the landed gentry of England, and could trace their descent backward through a line of knights and gentlemen, and many had occupations other than to till the soil, but when they were once here, they soon learned from the neces- sity of the case to labor with their hands and cultivate their lands, for laborers were few, and as they had no money to procure carpenters, blacksmiths, shoemakers and weavers, it was plain that they must do this work themselves, so the very men who were magistrates, governors and sons of governors, became stone-cutters, plied the shuttle or labor- ed in the field, and were proud to do it, and Stonington was no excep- tion, for almost their first legal act was to meet and lay out "home lots" of 12 acres each for every inhabitant, about the site of their new meeting house, extending as far east as Stoney Brook and south to Fellows Mill, now belonging to Sylvia and Vargas. One tier was located north and the remainder west and south of the ministry land. The title to these "home lots" was obtained by lottery on condition that if built upon within six months and inhabited, the title would be complete, except that, each one must reside on his lot two years before he could sell it, and then he must first offer it to the town and be refused before he could sell it, with good title, to anyone. It is not known how many of these home lots were built upon, but even now the old family names are handed down to the seventh and eighth generations, and some of the old houses are standing yet which were built there about 1700.
Only a few years ago the old Tavern was taken down which stood across the road from the church. It was supposed to have been built about the middle of 1700 by Mr. Daniel Collins, and was a large, double, wood-colored house, with roof sloping nearly down to the ground at the rear, and two stories in front. Being built in this manner, they were exempt from taxation by the king, as all double two story houses had a tax imposed upon them. At the west corner of this house, in plain view from the road, hung a swinging sign, ornamented by the figure of an Indian and having the word Tavern thereon. As you en- tered the front door, the stairs to go above and below were in plain sight. At the right was the great east room, which was the favorite resort of friends upon the Sabbath day, before meeting began, or when any gathering was held at the Road, to meet and visit with each other or discuss matters of interest. At the rear of the room, with a small bedroom on either end, was the long kitchen, while in a large room up- stairs, occasionally dances were held. At the left of the front door, was a smaller room with a fire-place in it and windows at the south and west sides, which was called the "Bar Room." On the north side of this room, was the counter running east and west, completely shutting off the narrow room where was kept the jugs of West India rum, sugar, tea and decanters of various kinds of liquors. A red-painted
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door, suspended from the ceiling, was lifted or closed at will by the person behind the counter, and it was supported by two long, narrow sticks, arranged to hold it in position. In those days even the minister and people regaled themselves and no one was considered hospitable who did not offer to his guest some good rum, home made wine or cider.
This Tavern was kept for years by Lieut. Daniel Collins, who was in the Revolutionary War; at another time by Mr. Dean Gallup, again by a Mr. Rowse who was a tailor, and also by Mr. Gilbert Collins and Mr. Justin Denison. About 1835 by Mr. Nathan S. Noyes, and even then travellers were kept over night and the bar was sustained. Later, Mr. Frank Pendleton kept it as a Tavern (whose descendants live in Penn- sylvania). At the time of the September gale the roof was blown off into the garden, but being replaced it was afterwards occupied by
THE TAVERN HOUSE.
many different families. Receiving no special care, it fell gradually into decay, and was at last used as a barn and finally taken down by Mr. Charles S. Noyes about 1892, as he had purchased the property some years before.
About the "Road," in those early times, were several stores, one at the west of the "Tavern," where various goods were kept for sale, and a little further to the east was another, while near the house of Mr. Thomas Palmer was still another; all of these were real old-fashioned country stores with a variety of everything one would need, as then the present villages which are about us were not in existence, and the people were largely supplied from these country stores, strange as it now seems.
I here insert a letter from the pen of one of Stonington's inhabitants of a century ago, who lived at the farm now occupied by Dea. B. Frank Williams, near Mystic, Ct.
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"My Dear Julia, a letter from your father informs me that you have fled from the heat, dust and turmoil of city life to make your Saratoga sojourn in the Stoney land of Stonington, and so there in that fairy re- gion of rich men, pretty girls and early marriages, smooth fields, stone walls, and rural dwellings, brown bread, baked beans, whortleberries, fresh fish and honey, you, for a time are luxuriating, perhaps in the shade of some of those noble old Buttonballs, Oaks and Chestnuts, the very trees under which I used to sit in days of yore, and build those airy castles of future happiness unalloyed, which in the rosy days of youth, untaught by time's changeful hand, have in all ages, been wont to build, but which in no age will ever be fully realized. Stonington is indeed a happy land, the land of my birth, a pleasant land that I shall always love, and the idea of your being there has carried my thoughts back into the past, and brought vividly to mind the events of my early days, that it seems but yesterday that I was a wild, romping school- girl, the very personification of mischief. Ah! well do I remember my roguery everywhere, especially at school, and how my patient teachers bore with me during all those trying years, but looking all the while as if they deemed the task of teaching me a severe ordeal. I often think of the lessons of wisdom as well as the deep interest which some of them manifested for my welfare, and I feel an affectionate regard for these best of friends, one of whom, Judge Fish, I hope you have had the pleasure of seeing, while in Stonington.
How much I wish I might have been there with you to point out the many points of interest, which you would pass by unheeded. Take, if you please, the road from your boarding place (now Mr. Eugene Palmer's) to the head of Mystic. Observe first the view either side from the top of the hill, at the head of the Point road. Then as you descend the hill, see those fancifully shaped rocks and stones of various shapes and sizes, some oval, some oblong, others triangular and pyra- midal, often enclosed by a thickly set hedge of whortle-berry bushes laden with that delicious fruit, or the fragrant bayberry or tallow bush (for you must know that tallow grows on bushes in that prolific re- gion), again you may see the tall, prim-looking, sweet-scented, sweet fern, or maybe one of nature's most beautiful wild beauties, the little four leaved pink rose, so abundant in fairy lands.
At the base of the hill see that rude old bridge over that little stream of clear water which lags so lazily along among its glistening pebbles, then hiding itself away in the bushy lot beyond. Then there is the numerous stalked shaped barberry, clad in its own beautiful green, its long slender stems bending gracefully beneath, the weight of their bright, crimson clusters, and then in groups, hedges, or per- haps singly, see the feathery formed blackberry, so closely set with dark, curly, hard-surfaced leaves and profusion of thimble-shaped ber- ries, so sweet, so delicious, while ever and anon, the unaspiring dew- berry, creeps over delapitated fences, fills up gaps in stone walls, trails around illshapen hard stones, which ought not to be so near the way. side, thus trying to conceal the seeming negligence of man as well as the danger to which the careless rider is ever exposed.
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Then there used to be an old red house, where somebody lived, also a small brown house where a family lived whose children were so judic- iously trained by a good mother to habits of industry, neatness, order and economy, that all the children married well, and were happily settled in life. Not far distant was a large, old-fashioned white house, shaded by some large old trees, and distinguished as the residence of a true-hearted widower, one who was said to have declined all overtures from the ladies to enter a second time into matrimony, a widowed daughter, a granddaughter and two bachelor sons, the latter kept a store nearby (near the Thomas Palmer house) where at all times might be found rum, raisins and ribbons, crockery, calico, codfish, silks, sarcenetts, sugars and shawls with the usual et ceteras. On each side are corn patches, cow pastures interspersed with great rocks and stones, about which the wild morning glory has woven itself into beautiful net work, while here and there are various little arbors formed of cast-off brushwood and decayed bushes, overrun by the splendid ivy which by its brilliant green in summer and varying shades in autumn, ever adds so much beauty to the landscape. And yonder, in sullen dwarfishness, stand numerous shrub oaks peeping crabbishly down upon the sterile earth as if to reproach their miserly mother for their uncouth deformity. Then hither and thither are countless heaps of loose stones, placed either to commemorate the wealth and industry of the owner, or as proper and convenient abodes for reptiles. A little further on is the line of decaying old poplars, stretching their bare, stiff limbs heavenward with here and there little tufts of bright, fresh leaves, which remind one of pleasant, youthful feelings in the hearts of aged friends, and over the wall are divers young ones growing rankly at random, their little supple limbs dancing in the slight breeze, and looking saucily up at their aged sires seeming to say, "Old gray beards, don't you wish you could get over here and trip the light fantastic toe as we do?" Then on the opposite side is a square, neat looking, little white house, fronted with a few handsome trees, some nicely trimmed shrubs and a carefully trained woodbine, and occupied by several maid- en ladies, all very tall, very prim, very good and if still living must be very old.
Next is that celebrated Tavern, where all classes, ages and sexes used to stop on Sunday mornings to "fix" before entering church and these were novel scenes. This crazy old hostelry sets flat upon the north side of the road, stretching its broad, shingled sides towards the four parts of the compass as far as its stiff old timbers would permit, looking for all the world as if trying to grasp as much of terra firma as possible. Then the earth all around apparently striving to get uppermost (as dirt will sometimes) had climbed several inches up the decaying shin- gles, giving the house an appearance of sometime making a final exit into the cellar. At the front door lay a large, unwrought, flat stone of irregular shape, so deeply inverted into the earth as to bring its surface just even with it. This was the door stone, and from this we stepped into the house. Ten or twelve feet from the door and nearly in front, stood a horse block, composed of three huge stones with a rough post
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at each side; here, the ladies mounted, dismounted and hung their horses. Just in range of this, and about the same distance from the door was the old family well, with its long sweep and pole, its backload of stone, its old, leaky, rusty-hooped bucket, its ancient brown board curb, skewed into a rhomboid and a long watering trough on one side. From this fountain, the horses and the people were watered. The west end of the house was ornamented with a long horse shed furnished with sundry pegs, nails, rings and hooks for hitching and a deep man- ger, which the hungry animals, for want of something more palatable to eat, had gnawed into points, squares, scallops and parallelograms. The little space stretching out between the house and the street was thickly dotted with rock heads, protruding just far enough to stub everybody's toes and to spoil everybody's shoes.
The opposite side of the street was bounded by an apology for a wall, several very infirm old poplars and another horse block. In the rear of the house stood the usual outbuildings, a barn, crib, shed, pig-sty and hen house. These were all in the very highest state of delapidation. Every shingle seemed vibrating upon a headless nail, the boards all loose and askew, the doors ajar, warped and without fastenings, and so exceedingly sensitive had these old inanimates become that even the commonest little breeze would throw them into a regular fit of hysteria; and there they would stand writhing, creaking and wheezing, groaning and moaning so pitiously that one could not refrain from fancying them to be in the last agonies of decay.
On one side of the barnyard always stood (on that sweet day of rest) the old black mare, a perfect Canadian in form, with uncropped mane and tail, in which could be found every variety of shade from a dingy yellow, down to a rich black, and both profusely decorated with straws and burs; poor, patient old creature, probably her chief ornaments had never been properly dressed since she possssed them. Ah! you cannot imagine how pensively resigned she used to look, wondering the while, I presume, why she could not be cared for, carded and combed and fixed up like other horses for Sunday. On the other side was the cross-looking yellow cow, with her ugly staring eyes, with one horn turned nearly straight up and the other about as straight downward, a strange object she was indeed. A certain wag once remarked "That old yellow cow was well equipped because she could hook both heaven and earth out of her way with the same push." In the distance and about the area, grew numerous cragged diminutive trees and bushes, which in accordance with the Scriptural injunction, ought for their unfruitful- ness to have been hewn down long before and cast into the fire. Around the fences, higgledy piggledy, lay carts and ladders, plows and wagons, poles and pails, minus parts and many a distorted limb, types of faithful service in their country's cause. About the sink drain and in the little savory pools issuing therefrom were various specimens of old boots and shoes, broken crockery, tin and glassware, horsehair, broomcorn and chips.
.
East of the house was the garden containing rather a parsimonious complement of vegetables, but a perfect feast of rocks, burdocks, pig-
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weeds, grasses and nettles, and whatever else in that line the patron; might choose to call for. On the sunniest side of this neglected spot, as; it were, directly out of the wall had sprung up a thick hedge of cinna- mon rose bushes, which despite the thousand and one obstacles there. presented, grew and flourished and blossomed most vigorously. At one. end of this most beautiful rose hedge, quite a liberal bit of terra firma, was devoted to "posies" which glittered and gleamed with many of the. gayest and most beautiful hues ever seen in a country flower garden. Then at the least imaginable distance from this little nook and by way of making just the sweetest variety in the world, our very fanciful1 landlord had located his pigsty, occupied by three slab-sided, lop-eared, lantern-jawed, speckled pigs, possessing scarce more of avoirdupois ;, than was absolutely necessary to retain their bones within their bristly coverings. The chief delight of these sweet creatures seemed to be .. fighting and squealing, at the same time looking so hungry that we could never divest ourselves of the apprehension that too near an ap- proach might subject us to a deplorable fate.
In passing from this scene of beauty, deformity and danger we al- ways had a gratuitous peep into the buttery, before whose little, brown, latticed, uncurtained window, there ever and anon stood one great pan of milk, which seemed to be a kind of general bathing tub for all the . bugs and flies in that neighborhood, and an affecting sight indeed it was to see those poor insects; some like Cassius and Caesar the creamy Tiber buffeting with lusty sinews; some with feeble effort and anxious eye, vainly striving to attain the shore; others in agonizing despair sinking to rise no more, while others fast in the stocks had yielded up the ghost, and there lay solemnly and silently admonishing all other ... bugs and flies never to trespass upon their neighbor's milkpans, but the, charitable hostess used to say "That a few bugs and flies only made#: milk and cream the sweeter." Now this accidental discovery in the fly- mongering department was but the morning twilight of the neatness which dazzled the eyes of those who chose to make a more minute sur- vey of the culinary proceedings in that selfsame Road-side Tavern.
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