USA > Connecticut > Fairfield County > Bridgeport > Two hundred fifty years, the story of the United Congregational Church of Bridgeport, 1695-1945 > Part 3
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
1415186
-
III REVOLUTIONARY DAYS
1747-1796
D URING Mr. Cooke's pastorate, which ended with his death in 1747, the church had gained some members and lost others. The only available rec- ord is for the year 1731, in which year there were one hun- dred thirteen members in full covenant, forty-five males and sixty-eight females, a net increase during the thirty-six years of the church's history of eighty-nine, but a loss since Mr. Chauncey's time of eight. Mr. Cooke was succeeded by Lyman Hall, a young man of twenty-five, a native of Wal- lingford and a graduate of Yale, which was now in New Haven, having been moved from Saybrook in 1717. He was ordained in the Stratfield Church and began his min- istry in 1749. But the stormy waters had not yet calmed, and it would have taken a wiser and more experienced man than he to handle so difficult a situation. At the end of two years he was dismissed. He found other activities, however, for which his talents were better suited. For a time he lived in Fairfield, teaching and studying medicine. Then he moved to Georgia, where he established himself as a physi- cian. He entered vigorously into the cause of colonial inde- pendence, represented Georgia in the Continental Con- gress of 1775, and was one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. He later became governor of Georgia.
Shortly after Mr. Hall's dismissal another group with- drew, this time to form a Baptist church. This too was largely the result of the Whitefield mission, but for reasons quite different from those that had stimulated the estab-
37
REVOLUTIONARY DAYS
lishment of St. John's Church. One of Whitefield's dis- ciples, an itinerant preacher in Fairfield County, had a dra- matic adventure. A woman had dreamed one night of a young preacher who rode up to her house on horseback; and as she was telling her dream to a friend, the preacher suddenly appeared in person before them. Greatly im- pressed, the two women immediately gathered a group to- gether to listen to his preaching. Other meetings followed and converts were made. One of the converts was Captain John Sherwood, long a prominent member of the Congre- gational Church. He assembled a group in his own home, and they were baptized "in the Baptist way." Thus began, in 1751, with ten members, the Stratfield Baptist Church. Captain Sherwood was appointed elder, and later was or- dained pastor of the new church. Nearly twenty years later a building was erected some distance north of the other churches on a site which the present church still occupies.
Two years after the dismissal of Mr. Hall, in 1753, the church called as its minister the Reverend Robert Ross. This young man, now twenty-seven years old, was born in Ireland of Scotch parents but was brought to this country at the age of three. He had recently graduated from the new college of Princeton, though he later received an addi- tional degree from Yale, and he was ordained in the Strat- field Church. Three weeks after the ordination he married Mrs. Sarah Hawley, granddaughter of Captain John Ed- wards and widow of Samuel Hawley. Their first-born son was drowned in a well near the house. His wife died about twenty years later, leaving one daughter. A second wife lived but a few years after her marriage, and a third sur- vived him by only twenty-four hours. A ten-year-old son was drowned thirteen days later.
In Parson Ross, as he was familiarly known, the church had found again a man of ability and character. Six feet tall and well proportioned, he was an imposing figure in his
38
TWO HUNDRED FIFTY YEARS
ruffled shirt, his wig and cocked hat, his black suit, knee breeches, and white-topped boots. He was a scholar, having published a Latin grammar and a spelling book as well as a number of sermons. In his appointment the anti-Cooke faction had definitely scored, for he was conservative, a champion of the Calvinist doctrines, and a bitter opponent of all Separatist movements. The story is told that one day while he was on a journey his white-topped boots, which were very tight in the instep, became wet and he pulled them off to dry. Unable to get them on again, he tied them to his saddle and continued his journey. Soon he met Par- son Joseph Bellamy, of Bethlehem, who had been a student of Jonathan Edwards and was one of the powerful New Light preachers of the Great Awakening. As usual, they fell into argument. "You think you can reconcile foreordina- tion with free will?" inquired Parson Ross. "Well, can you tell me why my boots are tied on behind me?" Dr. Bellamy admitted that he could not. Whereupon Mr. Ross trium- phantly asserted that if the good doctor could not explain so simple a phenomenon as that, he surely could not recon- cile the mysteries of election and foreordination with the new doctrine of free will.
But political events shared the field with theological debate and soon became all-absorbing. Relations with the Mother Country grew steadily more tense. In the winter of 1757-58 a regiment of British soldiers was quartered in Stratford and Fairfield. Stories of the insolence and tyr- anny of royal agents traveled from colony to colony. The Stamp Act was passed. Pamphlets urging acceptance of the inevitable and pamphlets demanding resistance flew back and forth. News of the closing of Boston Harbor caused in- tense excitement. There could be no neutrality; everyone must make some decision.
With few exceptions the ministers of the Congrega- tional and Dissenting Churches were on the side of liberty.
39
REVOLUTIONARY DAYS
It was for liberty that their ancestors had crossed the ocean. Liberty had been the keynote of their preaching for a cen- tury and a half. The Anglican Church, on the other hand, found itself in a difficult position. Small in numbers and without substantial backing by civil authorities, it was nearly engulfed by the rising tide of patriotism. It was the representative in this country of the Church of England. There was no American bishop, and the ecclesiastical con- trol came from the Bishop of London. The church was bound by its fundamental principles to pray for King and country, and its very existence seemed imperiled by the Revolution. By and large, therefore, members of the An- glican Church were loyalist in sympathy and action; mem- bers of the Congregational and Dissenting Churches were ready to give their all in the cause of freedom and their ministers led in the crusade.
President Ezra Stiles and President Timothy Dwight of Yale had urged a declaration of independence long before the idea gained popular approval. Noah Welles of Stam- ford preached vigorously against the Stamp Act. Cotton Mather Smith of Sharon announced from his pulpit the news of the Battle of Lexington and then repaired directly to the green in front of the church and assembled a hun- dred men for immediate march. Reverend Jonathan Todd of Guilford set out at the head of eighty-three men to join the patriot army. Benjamin Trumbull of North Haven de- scended from his pulpit, raised the leaf of the communion table, and enlisted forty-six men on the spot. Reverend Nathaniel Bartlett of Redding, threatened by the Tories with hanging because of his outspoken utterances, carried a loaded musket everywhere with him and had a specially constructed powder bin in his cellar ready for emergencies. Samuel Sherwood of Weston was given a guard of conti- nental soldiers to protect him in his own home. Ministers served as chaplains in army camps, preached to the soldiers
40
TWO HUNDRED FIFTY YEARS
in camp and on the field, and did their utmost to aid and strengthen the men of their parishes, as many letters from those men testify.
Reverend Judah Champion of Litchfield prayed: * "Oh, Lord, we view with terror and dismay, the approach of the enemies of thy holy religion; wilt thou send storm and tempest and scatter them to the uttermost parts of the earth; but, peradventure, should any escape thy venge- ance, collect them together again, Oh Lord, as in the hol- low of thy hand, and let thy lightnings play upon them."
Reverend Nathaniel Roberts of Torrington cried, "Great God, we pray thee remove that Lord North from office, by death or otherwise."
Indeed the voice of Congregationalism in Connecticut spoke with no uncertain sound. A Stratford historian says, t "The relation of the church to the war of '76 may be told in a word, 'That everybody went.'" And the Stratford rec- ords state: "The church was vacant four years, four months, and two days."
There is ample testimony that the Stratfield Church played its part courageously in these stirring events. From the beginning Mr. Ross had been sensitive to the injustice and oppression of an intolerant government, and he was steadfast in resistance. In 1775 a company of soldiers pa- raded in his front yard, bowed reverently as he prayed for blessing and victory, and marched off to join the expedi- tion headed for Canada. The next year the Stratfield com- pany was sent to the defense of New York. Captain Stephen Burroughs and Captain William Wordin commanded a company known as "Householders," men not eligible for military service but mobilized for the protection of the community.
* Mary Alice Baldwin, The Clergy of Connecticut in Revolutionary Days.
+ Rev. Joel S. Ives, Historical Address.
41
REVOLUTIONARY DAYS
It is not difficult to imagine something of the excitement on Friday night, April 25, 1777, when messengers from Fairfield came galloping into the settlement with the news that a British army had landed at the mouth of the Sauga- tuck River, had marched through the village, and was en- camped for the night in the northern part of the town .* The messengers told hurriedly how that afternoon, a little before sunset, they had seen enemy ships, twenty-six in all, sail into the harbor. Not less than two thousand men had landed that afternoon at the foot of Compo Hill. The sol- diers were gay in their yellow buckskin breeches, scarlet coats, shoulder epaulettes, and plumed metal hats, and they were mounted on spirited horses. It was a spectacular sight but one that filled every patriot heart with terror, and in an incredibly short time the Paul Reveres of Connecti- cut were riding through the country side, north, east, and west, calling the men to arms. There must have been many from the Stratfield parish who grabbed their muskets, bade their families a hasty farewell, and marched off to join the Fairfield militia under General Silliman. The attack on Danbury, with its storehouse of ammunition, the burning of the town, the battle of Ridgefield, the subsequent burn- ing of Fairfield-all these are events well known in local history, and in them all we may be sure that the people of Stratfield, encouraged by their valiant minister, played an honorable part.
The war dragged on through eight long years, years full of hardship and suffering, but it ended at last. When the tidings of the surrender of Cornwallis reached Stratford in the midst of the Sabbath sermon, Parson Wetmore drew himself up to his full height, announced the glorious news, and then said with evident restraint, "It is no place for boisterous demonstration in the house of God, but we may, in giving three cheers, only go through the motions."
* William Hanford Burr, Revolutionary Days in Westport, Conn.
42
TWO HUNDRED FIFTY YEARS
But though there was a surge of relief that the war was finally over, there were many discouraging conditions to be faced. War had taken its toll of life and of possessions, and disease followed in its wake. Smallpox, most dreaded of all epidemics, had been introduced into Stratford by a party of exchanged prisoners, and it swept devastatingly through the region. The red flag was a danger signal that no one disregarded, and the pesthouses were filled to over- flowing. People were gripped by a terror that caused them to leave even members of their own families to a horrible death. Those who had the disease and recovered were marked by hideous scars for the rest of their lives. Vaccina- tion was unknown, but "inoculation parties" were held, at which ten or fifteen persons gathered in some private home to be inoculated with pus from a smallpox sore. A terse note from an old diary is revealing: "1794, Feb. 18. Se- lectmen gave liberty for inoculation at Sam Sherwoods for 20 persons."* There was some objection to this practice, not so much on medical grounds as because it was "defeat- ing the will of the Lord." Two petitions begging for aid were submitted to the Legislature; the first was disre- garded, but the second, signed by Mr. Ross and twenty-one other residents of Stratfield, stating that people were so desperate that they were threatening to pull down infected houses and shoot the sufferers, brought results. The Legis- lature directed General Silliman of Fairfield to take charge of the situation and, with the employment of such sanitary measures as were available, the plague was finally halted.
Moreover, as if war and disease were not enough to dis- courage the ministers, there was added a spirit of reaction against all things religious which was endangering the very existence of the churches. Infidelity had spread alarmingly throughout the country causing a relaxation of moral standards and undermining the spiritual faith that had en-
* Quoted in The Story of Bridgeport, p. 34.
43
REVOLUTIONARY DAYS
abled the founding fathers unflinchingly to face hardship and discouragement. Gratitude for French help in the war had aroused admiration for everything French, including the doctrines of French philosophers and their American imitators, with all their skepticism and materialism.
A specific manifestation of this influence was the serious decline in church attendance and church support. Some measure must be devised to meet the very practical prob- lem of raising funds for current expenses. Accordingly, in 1794 it was decided to try for one year the experiment of renting pews. This was the beginning of a system of church finance which lasted until well into the twentieth century. It was stipulated, however, that Mr. Ross should retain the seat on the right hand of the pulpit which had been granted him "to Set in During the Society's pleasure"; and "the fore seat extending throughout the whole front was appropriated for the use of the aged people for one year." There were twenty-one pews in this second building, and the highest rent paid was by Josiah Lacy, one pound ten shillings, or about five dollars in American money.
Evidently, however, payments were not always prompt, for the next year it was voted "that the persons that bids off a pew in the Meeting House that dont pay the money shall give his note of hand to pay the Money by the first day of July next if not paid then interest from ist of July until paid."
Bitterly though Mr. Ross hated factionalism, he was obliged to see a third group withdraw from the Stratfield Church, this time to establish a Methodist Congregation. In 1784 William Black, preacher of the Methodist Church in Nova Scotia, visited the United States. At first he was cordially received, and he preached several times in the Congregational Church, making a most favorable impres- sion. It soon developed, however, that he was opposed to certain of the doctrines of orthodox Calvinism, and he was
44
TWO HUNDRED FIFTY YEARS
roundly denounced as a wolf in sheep's clothing. It is said that one sermon was interrupted by Parson Ross, who stamped on the floor, declaring that his doctrine was "Damnable!" But some were attracted by his preaching, and groups were formed in private homes to discuss the new teaching. As a result, in 1789, the first Methodist so- ciety in New England was organized by the Reverend Jesse Lee, circuit rider in southwestern Connecticut, in a house on Toilsome Hill Road, with three women members. When the Congregational meeting house on King's High- way was abandoned some twenty years later, it was pur- chased by the Methodists and occupied by them until they too moved to a location near the harbor.
For forty-three years Mr. Ross faithfully served the Stratfield Church, resigning in 1796 at the age of seventy. Three years later he died. He is described in his epitaph as "a person who long sustained a high character for Chris- tian literature and general knowledge. In his principles, orthodox; in his preaching, practical and judicious. He ad- vocated the truths of the Gospel by doctrine and example, and was therefore a pious guide and instructor." He was recognized as a leader among the ministers of the state, and he was faithful in attendance at the annual meetings of the General Association, journeying to Hartford, Woodbury, New Milford, Bristol, Haddam, or Tolland for the annual meeting, several times being elected scribe. In 1786 he was appointed by the General Association "to preach the Con- scio ad Clerum the Day after the next Commencement at Yale College." All in all, Mr. Ross builded well upon the foundations that Mr. Chauncey had laid.
IV
THE CHURCH EXPANDING
1797-1830
B Y the close of the eighteenth century conditions be- gan once more to look hopeful. The devastation of war-the burned towns, destroyed goods, and neg- lected industries-was being repaired. The political tur- moil inevitable in the formation of a new government had largely subsided. The mutual misunderstandings and jeal- ousies had been overridden, and thirteen separate and highly individualistic colonies had, by some miracle hu- man or divine, been welded together into one nation with a constitution and a machinery of government that were able to function with fair efficiency.
George Washington, who had just completed eight years as president, was a not unfamiliar figure in the towns along the Sound. On his first trip from Philadelphia to Boston, as a young man of twenty-four, traveling on horseback along the King's Highway, he must have noticed the new St. John's Church, with its steeple and gilded weathercock, and a little farther along, at the Four Corners, the older Congregational Church. In 1775 when he again traveled the Post Road, this time on his way to Cambridge to take command of the United Colonial Army, he may have ob- served that the Congregational Church had gained added dignity with its new spire and bell. On one of his trips he and his party stopped, according to tradition, at the tavern that was owned by John Nichols, the blacksmith, "and took refreshments there occupying the southwest corner room as their parlor." The house, built in 1726 in salt-box
46
TWO HUNDRED FIFTY YEARS
style and since carefully remodeled, is still serving as a resi- dence at 2354 North Avenue. Across the road was a mile- stone marked, "F 20 miles to N.H." This was one of the stones that Benjamin Franklin had set up a few years be- fore when, as Postmaster General, he had ridden along the Post Road, measuring the miles by an ingenious device at- tached to his carriage and setting up a stone at the end of each mile.
At another time Washington is said to have stopped at the Samuel Cable Tavern, across the road from the Con- gregational Church, to warm himself before the great open fireplace, enjoy a meal of fresh oysters, and secure a change of horses from the roomy stables. This house, also reputed to have been at one time the home of Parson Ross, is stand- ing at 1795 North Avenue, and is appropriately occupied at the present time by a member of the United Church.
Once more, in October, 1789, Washington set out from New York, now the national capital, for a tour of New England. This time, as President of the United States he traveled by coach, sometimes changing to horseback, and was accompanied by his aide, his secretary, and six ser- vants. He breakfasted in Stamford and dined and slept in Fairfield where, as he noted in his diary, the evidences of the burning of the town by the British were still visible. Leaving Fairfield at sunrise, he drove ten miles to Strat- ford for breakfast, over a road which was "not on the whole bad (for this country)-in some places very gd., especially through Et. Fairfield, wch. is in a plain, and free from stone." This time he specifically notes "two decent looking Churches in this place, though small, viz: an Episcopal, and Presbyterian or Congregationalist (as they call them- selves)."
Obviously the Four Corners on King's Highway was a location of importance where interesting things were fre- quently happening. But the years had brought great
47
THE CHURCH EXPANDING
changes, and the harbor was stealing some of the glory from old Stratfield. Even before the Revolution settle- ments in the region known as Newfield had been develop- ing, good farming land still being the main attraction. In- creasing population had encouraged enterprising persons to set up new industries, and adventurous men, lured by the natural harbor at the mouth of the Pequonnock, had engaged in sea trade. As early as 1720 there were shipyards in the river, and farmers loaded their produce on boats for sale in nearby settlements. In spite of British laws in re- straint of trade and the ever-present danger of capture by British vessels, hardy sailors constantly navigated along the coast and to the West Indies.
During the Revolutionary War the harbor had been the scene of many exciting events. Sea captains turned priva- teers and sailed away to capture valuable prizes. Captain David Hawley, prominent member of the Stratfield Church, made the dangerous journey to the West Indies and returned with a precious cargo of gunpowder, which was divided equally between the towns of Stratford and Fairfield. Later, on a privateering mission, he was captured and offered large inducements if he would act as pilot to the British fleet. Staunch patriot that he was, he refused and was taken prisoner to Halifax. He soon made his es- cape, however, and returned to do valiant service for the American cause.
With the coming of peace and a settled government, men turned again to trade. It is hard for us to realize today how largely shipping dominated the life of the community in the early years of the nineteenth century. For example, Captain Ezekiel Hubbell, another prominent member of the church, in 1799 fitted out a vessel, rounded Cape Horn, and is said to have been the first citizen of the United States to secure permission to visit Santiago, capital of Chile. Barely escaping a trap set by unfriendly natives, he pur-
48
TWO HUNDRED FIFTY YEARS
sued his way past the Sandwich Islands (now known as the Hawaiian Islands) and proceeded to China, where he ex- changed furs for tea and other oriental products. There was great rejoicing on his return, for he had been gone nearly three years and most people believed him lost. When he finally retired, he wrote that he had made eight voyages to the East Indies, each voyage averaging 30,000 miles, or a total of 245,000 miles-surely no mean achieve- ment in the time of sailing vessels.
Plainly the harbor was becoming the real center of the town, and development proceeded rapidly. New roads were laid out, and bridges replaced the old ferries across the river. The first bridge was known as the "Lottery Bridge," because money for its construction was raised by a public lottery, and a toll house was placed at its approach. In 1800 that part of the town that was near the harbor and boasted two hundred fifty inhabitants was incorporated as the Borough of Bridgeport, the first borough in the state.
Naturally the churches could not remain unaffected by these changes, and for some time there had been talk of re- moving to a location near the harbor. When Mr. Ross re- signed in 1796, the Church had rounded out a century, a century occupied with the laying of foundations and fight- ing to preserve them. That struggle had been won, and the new century would provide opportunity for expansion into fields not yet entered, scarcely even dreamed of.
The year following the resignation of Mr. Ross, a new minister was called, the Reverend Samuel Blatchford, a young Englishman who had come to America only ten years before. The story of his coming illustrates the strange interweaving events of history. When the Revolution broke out, Samuel was a boy of eight, living on the coast of Devonshire near Plymouth. Near the Blatchford home was Dartmoor prison, one of the prisons in which prisoners of
49
THE CHURCH EXPANDING
war were confined. Captives in the eighteenth century were often treated with the utmost cruelty, both on prison ships and in jails, and such treatment aroused the sym- pathy of kind-hearted people. Especially was this true of people like the Blatchfords, who were strongly opposed to the government of the day and sympathetic toward the struggle of the colonies for freedom. Accordingly they gave whatever it was possible for them to give of food or other relief; and boys, who could pass to and fro without arousing as much suspicion as adults, were often employed on these errands of mercy. Thus it happened that the young Samuel came in contact with many American soldiers, listened to their tales, and received from them occasional gifts, such as miniature ships fully rigged or other trinkets of carved wood.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.