USA > Connecticut > Litchfield County > Warren > The Congregational church, Warren, Connecticut, l750-1956 > Part 5
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It was probably to this group that Mr. Starr referred when, after the close of his active ministry, he submitted to the Society the following query : "Is it in the opinion of the brethren proper for the members of the church to leave their own meeting on the Sabbath and attend a meeting of a differ. ent denomination, it being equally convenient to attend at home ?" Decision: "The church expressed it to be improper, four members waving the expression of an opinion".
Later the church evidently attempted to show brotherly tolerance, for it was voted (two years after Mr. Starr's death) that "the Methodist society in the town be permitted to hold a two days meeting in our meeting house". Four years later a woman was publicly censured because she "has left this church in a disorderly manner and united with the Methodist church", but we have no means of knowing the details of her action. A Methodist meeting house was built across the road
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from the Congregational church, and a fund was created, the initial gift having been made by Salmon Brownson, formerly a prominent member of the Congregational church. In later years as attendance dwindled, visiting ministers, paid from this fund, occasionally preached in the Congregational meeting house, and eventually the fund was divided between the Methodist conference and the town, the portion allotted to the town being appropriated to the care of the cemetery. The building was later used as a Grange hall, and it now serves as headquarters for the Volunteer Fire Company.
An attempt was evidently made to establish a Baptist church also, but of this there is little record. In 1778 Truman Beeman was elected in town meeting tithingman of the Bap- tist Society. Tradition has it that meetings were held some- where in College Farms, and a spot in the brook known as "Baptist Hole" bears testimony to the outdoor immersions of early days. Also, in the minutes no less than fifteen names appear of persons who left the Society in order to join the Baptists, and a note in the diary of Dr. James Robbins, dated 1805, reads : "Mr. Jones, a Baptist minister, has come to live in Warren". But the movement seems not to have had lasting vitality.
Masonry came to Warren with the organization in 1795 of Meridian Sun Lodge No. 32, with fifteen charter members. Both Mr. Starr and Mr. Talcott were members. Generous sums were appropriated for a library, the books being divided among the members when the lodge was disbanded in 1829. The influence of the temperance movement is seen in a resolu- tion of 1825: "Resolved that no Spiritous Liquors be allowed in the Lodge at any time. Days of some festival alone ex- cepted, and that the Brethren be recommended not to pur- chase liquor at the bar any other days but those mentioned." The last meeting was held at the home of Mr. Talcott.
The people were proud of their bell, which rang at twelve o'clock each day and also sounded the nine o'clock curfew. On Sunday morning it rang out its invitation to worship-though
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not at the expense of the Society as indicated by the following minute (1833) : "Voted: that the care of the bell be left with the Society Committee, and that the Society Committee may have the discretionary power to allow any proper person to ring sd bell at the expense of the town or any company of in- dividuals." All honor to the men and boys who, through the years, have faithfully rung that bell !
Mr. Talcott may well have taken satisfaction in the not- able improvement in music that came about during his minis- try. That there had long been agitation for the adoption of "the new way" is shown in a negative manner by the decision in 1783, after what may well have been a heated argument, "that they sing in the Congregation as they have done in past years." According to "the old way" the leader, perhaps a deacon with a resounding voice, "lined out" the hymn, reading two or three lines from the one and only hymnbook and "gave the pitch" with his tuning fork. The congregation picked up the cue, each according to his own ideas of time and tune and with perfect freedom to include any individual flourishes, "little slidings and Purrings, raisings and lowerings". Then more words were lined out, and so on to the end of the hymn. There were those who opposed any departure from tradition as depriving the singers of their individual liberty, or as in- clining too much toward ritual or "popery"; but eventually the new way prevailed, and in 1825 a singing master was hired, by subscription, "for the purpose of improving sacred music in the Society."
This innovation did more than improve the quality of the church music; it also provided an important addition to the social life of the community. From one who was young during this period we have the following reminiscences :* "The teach- er of the singing school would come for a certain number of weeks for a certain sum, and each family would give according
*Reminiscences of Mrs. Lucy Sackett Huth, quoted by Miss Agnes Strong in an article entitled "Social Life of a Generation Ago," read on Old Home Day, September 2, 1911.
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to the number who attended. It was usually held Friday eve- ning in the Town Hall. There would be snow and good sleigh- ing most of the winter; so the young men would get out their big, two-horse sleighs, with bells, and call at the different houses along the road to pick up a load of young folks. The room would be filled.
"At the opening of the singing school the teacher would get out the tuning fork and try the voices. All who could 'raise and fall' the eight notes had seats reserved for them, and the best singers were seated in front. Then he would give the pitch with his tuning fork, or more often a pitch pipe, and say, 'All please sound'; whereupon each would take the pitch from the key note. In the spring a grand concert was always held in the church, and it was considered a great honor to be chosen as soloist."
In early days any kind of instrument would have been considered not only extravagant but also sacrilegious, but matters had now progressed so far that in 1837 a base viol was purchased and played by a boy named Martin Strong. Let his granddaughter tell the story :* "As a boy he was so much more fond of music than of farming that he earned the name of 'Eben's Gentleman'. One night, with his mother's conniv- ance, he slipped out, drove to Cornwall Plains, and borrowed a bass viol. It proved to be lacking a string or two, but his mother supplied the deficiency with strings of silk; and upon this instrument, in spite of his father's displeasure, he learned to play so well that at seventeen he was entrusted with a bass viol which belonged to the choir and with which he led the singing for over fifty years. The old bass viol is still a valued possession of the church. In 1872 an organ was purchased for about $1300. Severely damaged by the lightning stroke in 1892, it was rebuilt by the original builders, Hook and Hast- ings.
To show the contrast between life a century ago and now, a further quotation from the reminiscenes of Mrs. Huth may
*Miss Agnes Strong: "Social Life of a Generation Ago".
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not be out of order. "When a rainy day came along a whole family would start off to spend the day with some relative or neighbor, and no housekeeper pleaded guilty to being unpro- vided for company. Or the young people would drop in for a surprise party upon some family to spend a jolly evening, and be treated to apples and cider, and doughnuts if the jar hap- pened to be full, around the great open fire.
"The Sackett homestead* was commonly known as 'Sackett's Harbor', because no one was ever refused shelter there. Sometimes such hospitality was attended with draw- backs, as in the case of 'Uncle Bill Newcomb', who was a periodic visitor. His only occupation consisted of whittling out pudding sticks to sell for a trifle or give to his friends. It was his custom to get up at three o'clock in the morning, stir up the fire in the fireplace, and sing at the top of his voice such songs as 'The Stone that is Falling Will Gather no Moss', or 'Arouse up, O Sleepers, the Morning Is Come'. When the patience of the family was finally exhausted, Mrs. Sackett would give him a certain number of pounds of pork on condi- tion that he would stay away a certain number of weeks, but she could count on his sure return when the time was up.
"Another, but more reliable visitor, was a rich old cattle dealer, 'Uncle Robert Clark', from Woodbury, who used to ride to New Haven on horseback. Many a time on winter nights they would roll him up in flannel blankets before the fire to thaw him out after such a ride. Then there followed a merry time, collecting the fatted cattle that were to be sold, scouring their horns that they might look their best, and starting them off for New Haven."
The Donation Party was an institution that continued till near the close of the century. "It was understood", writes Mrs. Huth, "that the minister should have a specified salary
*The home of Justus Sackett stood south of the "Stone House" on the now discontinued road which led through "Hardscrabble" to Litchfield. Across the road was the cheese factory. Lucy was one of the six lively "Sackett girls".
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and a donation. Besides contributing good things toward the supper, each participant was expected to bring some substan- tial addition to the minister's larder in the shape of chickens, potatoes, preserved fruit, or whatever else was available. Also a collection was taken at supper or immediately after, which always amounted to $50 or $100. Those who attended the donation parties during Mr. Bassett's pastorate recall how the exercises after supper always began with Mrs. Bassett's sing- ing the only song she professed to know, 'Johnny Sands', and closed at Mr. Bassett's request, after remarks of very genuine appreciation on his part, with 'Blest be the Tie that Binds'."
Picnics in summer, sleighrides and social gatherings in winter; unlimited hospitality extended both to friends and to casual wayfarers (no social agencies to which to refer unde- sirable visitors) ; the informality and spontaneity, the slower and more comfortable tempo of living, the necessity for self- reliance and individual initiative alike in work and play- these make up a pattern of life vastly different from our own. One sometimes wonders if we have paid too great a price for "progress".
For eleven years Mr. Talcott carried on his ministry, faithful and beloved, though laboring often under great phy- sical disability. In 1831 he requested that, because of ill health, he might relinquish his salary and be relieved when necessary of the obligations of preaching, though still retain- ing his position as pastor. He preached on Thanksgiving Day, 1835, but throughout the winter he was unable to continue. The following March, in spite of the protests of his friends, he again entered the pulpit. He completed the first part of the service, the people watching him with anxiety, but with the announcement of the text his strength gave out and he col- lapsed. He was carried home and that afternoon he died. A frail body, but an indomitable spirit !
His widow later married Deacon Benjamin Carter, whose first wife had died in Ohio, and with him she journeyed to Edinburgh, another member of that ever growing group who
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were transplanting into the virgin soil of the Western Reserve those ideals of church and community life that for two cen- turies had been deeply rooted in the hills and valleys of old Connecticut.
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CHAPTER V.
YEARS OF TENSION
REV. HARLEY GOODWIN, 1838-1843 REV. JOHN R. KEEP, 1844-1852 REV. MONTGOMERY R. WAKEMAN, 1854-1856 REV. FRANCIS LOBDELL, 1859-1863
T HE first three pastorates-those of Silvanus Osborn, Peter Starr, and Hart Talcott-together had spanned a period of seventy-nine years, and all three men had died in office. It had been a period of pioneering and development, during which the infant church had grown strong and the plain, humble building of 1767 had been replaced by the state- ly, beautiful edifice of 1818, with its spire pointing heavenward and its bell calling the people to worship. In spite of the al- most incredible migration to the North and West, the mem- bership had increased to two hundred twelve, which still stands as the peak enrollment in two centuries of history. Inevitably, the future would set a very different pattern, both in the tenure of its ministers and in the role of the church in the community.
For two years after Mr. Talcott's death the pastorate remained vacant; then a call was extended to the Rev. Harley Goodwin, a graduate of Middlebury College, Vermont. Mr. Goodwin had previously been located in Marlboro, Massachu- setts, and he had preached in the Warren church for six months previous to the call, a call which he accepted with obvious hesitation. For one thing, his somewhat precarious health made continued work in the New England climate un- certain. For another, with rapidly rising costs, it was difficult to maintain a wife and three children on a salary of $500. But
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most of all, after six months of preaching in the Warren pul- pit, he was conscious of sources of disunity among the people and he feared the inevitable tendency of a congregation to make comparisons between a new minister and his prede- cessors. Frankly he wrote: "Two of your former pastors, as they deserve, still live in your remembrance-the judicious and venerable Starr, and the zealous and animated Talcott- and I am aware that it will be no easy thing to fill their places."
Mr. Starr, it must be remembered, had been dead only nine years, and with his passing there had gone much of the binding power of united and sacrificial effort for the achieve- ment of great ends. Mr. Talcott had begun his ministry be- fore the close of Mr. Starr's life, and he had been able to carry the church forward in quiet, harmonious development. Na- tionwise, too, there had been a period of comparative calm and of peaceful expansion; but now ominous clouds were darken- ing the national horizon, clouds that would inevitably generate currents of restlessness and bitterness among people every- where. The years ahead would not be easy years.
A letter from Mr. Goodwin's daughter, Mrs. Abigail Goodwin Canfield, written from Sparta, Wisconsin, at the time of the sesquicentennial in 1906, gives interesting glimpses of her childhood and throws light on some of the events of the period. She was nine years old when her family moved to Warren. "I am sure", she writes, "I could find the flat rock where we cracked butternuts in the springtime; and the row of chestnut trees down the mill road, and often I have longed to crack the burs with my heel as children always did . . . . I wonder if the hill is just as steep as it was then. How hard it was to get up when icy. (No rubbers in those days.) I recall one Sabbath when my mother was ill how my father, holding a child by each hand and myself, the oldest, holding on to his overcoat behind, climbed to that venerable old church.
"I can see the corner pew where the minister's family always sat. The little footstove filled with coals and moved
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around to keep our feet from freezing; yes, and the noise we children sometimes made when moving it.
"I have never forgotten", she continues, "the New Eng- land Sabbath which commenced Saturday night at sunset and ended Sabbath night at sunset; how Mr. Gilbert's store on the hill and Mr. Swift's at the foot were closed just as the sun set ; not one moment later; our playthings all laid away, the shoes all blacked, the gates closed so tight. Oh, the stillness of those Saturday nights so different from this day, when often we jump into the Sabbath without a thought of preparation- and right here I wish to say that my Saturday night keeping has never left me. As a child I used to rebel but with my large family and busy life I have enjoyed the Sabbath better, was less critical of the minister and had pleasure and rest when I could have Saturday evening to prepare for my Sunday School work. So all honor to the good old preparation of Saturday night. I am glad to have lived in that day."
The greatest source of discord during this period was the increasingly bitter slavery issue. It may surprise some to learn that slaves were once held in Warren; but it is recorded that between 1777 and 1801 twenty-nine slaves were born in the town, though after 1800 only seven remained. In a volume of Land Records (slaves being property) for the year 1796 appears the following statement from John Brownson, a statement indicative, no doubt, of the action of other slave owners: "I do now hold and am possessed of Two Negro Slaves, the one named Joel, and is nearly Forty Years old, the other named Jinney, and is about Forty one Years Old, and they are Man and Wife. Now from Motives of Humanity, and at their Mutual Request, I do hereby emancipate my sd Slaves and hereby record them free from all Claims and Demands that I, my Heirs, Executors or Assigns, might ever have to them or either of them."
One would like to know the story of "Ned", whose master cared enough for him to erect a small stone over his grave in the far corner of the old cemetery, with this inscription :
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In Memory of Ned Who died April 13th 1793 AE 9 years This stone is erected by his Master J. Talmadge Pleasant and faithful in life And in Death lamented
The fact that owners were freeing their slaves, even though such action involved financial loss, is indicative of the growing feeling that slavery was morally wrong. Opinions differed strongly, however, often violently, even among think- ing men, regarding the solution of the problem; and as the abolition movement increased in strength, the opposition movement also became more vigorous and more vocal.
Perhaps some from Warren had been present at the con- vention in Wolcottville (Torrington) in January, 1837, a few months before Mr. Goodwin's arrival, when representatives from towns throughout the county met to organize an anti- slavery society. They met in a barn on a bitter winter day, no house, church, or public building being open to them, but in spite of the cold the barn was filled, "the floor, scaffolds, hay-mow, and stables" .* Meanwhile, "A furious mob was collecting in the village, and elevating their courage for their deeds of violence by the intoxicating cup". This mob, "after parading the streets, making hideous and threatening noises, gathered around the barn, and by their deafening shouts, the blowing of horns, and the ringing the alarm of fire by the bell of the Congregational church, and the display of brute force, broke up the meeting, which hastily took adjournment." It reconvened, however, in the meeting house in Torringford, where it held a two-days' session and completed the organiza- tion of the society. "Opposition in Torringford, though violent, was undemonstrative for lack of the mob element and rum."
*History of Torrington, Rev. Samuel Orcutt, 1878.
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Following this convention anti-slavery meetings were held throughout the county and excitement grew. The prob- lem of the fugitive slaves likewise became increasingly insis- tent. The old house which had been known as the Starr Tavern was a station on the Underground Railroad, escaped slaves being hidden behind a sliding panel near the chimney. Mr. Goodwin was in hearty sympathy with this humanitarian effort, though, according to his daughter, "He was not a Radical Hot-headed Abolitionist, but was always uniform and persistent in the work".
"I well remember two deacons", writes Mrs. Canfield, "one Dea. Taylor, strongly opposed any Abolition movement ; another, Dea. Rouse, strongly anti-slavery, a helper with my father in the underground work of that day which both felt was the work to be done then. It was the custom to stand during the long prayer in the morning, and how well I remem- ber watching Dea. Taylor's head, and when the clause came, as it always did in public, at home, at the table, always, 'That the enslaved might be free', now if that good Deacon's head was bowed, it always went up and vice versa, if up and eyes closed, it went down. I could see it all from the corner pew and it did not always make me amiable. I believed in all that my father did, yet the good Deacon was conscientious. He must do it."
Prominent among the speakers at anti-slavery meetings was Abby Kelley, later Mrs. Stephen S. Foster, a Quaker from Massachusetts, an ardent crusader against slavery and an equally ardent proponent of woman's rights. Though a woman of good character and well educated, she aroused violent pas- sions whenever she appeared in public. In the neighboring town of Washington, for example, after a hectic fortnight,* the pastor, the Rev. Gordon Hayes, preached from the text, "Because thou sufferest this woman Jezebel, which calleth her- self a prophetess to teach and seduce my servants - - - " and the
*The Church on the Green, Wilbur Stone Deming.
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church adopted a resolution : "Resolved that we are opposed to the introduction of female public lecturers into this society by members of this church and to females giving such lectures in it". As a result of this episode certain prominent anti- slavery members, including the Gunn family, withdrew from the church and were excommunicated.
Unable to prevent Miss Kelley's coming to Warren and speaking in the meeting house, the only large room available, Mr. Goodwin made a feeble attempt to forestall trouble by announcing that the meeting would be open to women only ; but it was a fruitless gesture, for here too a mob gathered, augmented by demonstrators from nearby towns, and a dis- graceful scene ensued, a noisy and disorderly protest against the principles both of anti-slavery and of rights for women. The effect of the entire episode upon a minister who was earn- estly seeking peace and harmony among his people may well be imagined.
Another disturbing incident was the "Millerite Advent". A sect of "Second Adventists", often called "Millerites" from the name of their founder, asserted that the world was coming to an end in 1843. Both Mr. Goodwin and Mr. Anderson of Kent had worked hard to check the movement, which was drawing adherents from both churches, but to no avail. On a certain night a group of believers, robed in white and led by a man named Morgan, assembled at a selected spot on Kent Mountain to await the expected event. In order to be as near heaven as possible, some of them had spent the night on roof- tops or in trees ; when morning dawned and the sun rose in its accustomed manner, the group shamefacedly dispersed, some of them, however, dramatically burning their Bibles and swearing never to have anything more to do with religion. The leader disappeared, never to be heard from again.
It is evident that the five years of Mr. Goodwin's ministry had brought even more problems and difficulties than he had anticipated. He was criticized by some for being too strongly anti-slavery and by others for not speaking out boldly enough
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for the cause. There was complaint that he had occasionally (though admittedly because of circumstances beyond his con- trol) left the pulpit unprovided for. Some were offended be- cause he had attended funerals in other parts of the town on the Sabbath-possibly in connection with the new Methodist movement. Personal sorrows, too, had taken their toll. Two years after his coming to Warren a six-year old son had died; and during his last year his wife, Lydia Swift of Cornwall, aged only thirty-six, and a twelve-year old daughter had been laid beside the little son in the village cemetery. There is pathos in the simple epitaph :
"Thou loved and cherished child Patient, affectionate, and mild, So soon art gone to join thy mother And meet again that absent brother".
In his letter of acceptance Mr. Goodwin had written: "If at any time I find evidence that I cannot be the means of pre- serving the unity and strength of the Society, and promoting your religious interests, I shall feel that the call to remain with you has ceased." It is understandable that, after five years of mounting tension, he felt that the time had come for him to submit his resignation. He moved, with his daughter Abigail, to South Canaan. There he married again and had three more children and there he continued to live until his death twelve years later .*
REV. JOHN R. KEEP, 1844-1852
The year after Mr. Goodwin's resignation the church ex- tended a call to the Rev. John R. Keep. Mr. Keep was a native of Longmeadow, Massachusetts, (Born 1810), his ancestors having been pioneer settlers of that town and victims of one of the tragic incidents of its early history. One Sunday when
*It is only fair to state that in Mrs. Canfield's letter there is no breath of criticism or hint of unpleasantness between her father and his parishioners. Such inferences are drawn entirely from the official records.
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