USA > Connecticut > Hartford County > West Hartford > West Hartford, Connecticut > Part 4
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Come with me on wings of memory for a brief visit to the old church of my childhood days.
It is a beautiful Sunday morning in June. We are early and will stand outside under the shade of the maples in the yard for a little while. The people are beginning to come from the east, west, north, and south in goodly numbers, some on foot but many more in family wagons and carriages, with two and in some in- stances three seats all occupied by members of the family or neighbors who have been invited to join them. The best of vehicles will cause no comment nowadays, but when Captain Ebenezer Faxon drove to church in the first four-wheeled carriage used here, the people were greatly disturbed at such a vain show and desecration of the Sabbath, and he was permitted to continue its use only upon condition that he drive very slowly. The far- mers who have the fleetest horses will get upon the road first and arrive early, for it is not considered proper for one team to pass another on the way to church.
The women alight in front of the church, and the men drive
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away to hitch their horses in the sheds. Presently the sexton begins to ring the fine old bell in the tall tower. Soon he will toll it; then the minister and his family will come out from the par- sonage opposite the park, cross the street, and enter the church. The family is ushered into their pew in the center aisle well up in front, and the minister enters the pulpit.
The pulpit is at the west end of the auditorium, high up, approached on each side by a winding stairway. On the wall above the pulpit, on a board painted white, is seen MDCCC- XXXIV, giving the date when the church was built. And there in the gallery, opposite the pulpit, are the seats for the choir, tier upon tier. Along the front, suspended from a brass railing, are short damask curtains designed, when drawn, partially to conceal the front row of singers from the gaze of the congregation. Over there in the corner, leaning against the wall, is the big bass viol, silent now, but resonant with deep tones when Benjamin Sterling Bishop puts his hand to the bow. And Thomas Brace, the chorister, has brought his fine old violin from his house near by, and Julius W. Deming is there with his flute. The faithful members of the choir will fill the seats.
The tolling of the bell ceases. The men who love to linger on the porch until the very last moment hasten in. The service begins. The minister announces and reads the opening hymn. The chorister in low tones announces the tune to the choir, and soon all are singing.
An account of the chorister and his violin seems to be appro- priate at this point. In 1820 Lory Brace, who was then chorister, purchased a violin of a sea captain who had brought it from Holland. Mr. Brace used it as chorister and on other occasions for many years. After his death his son Thomas Brace inherited the violin and succeeded his father as chorister. He used it in church until the church organ was purchased in 1867. He also used it in conducting weekly singing schools in West Hartford and many
THE BRACE VIOLIN
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With zeal they spoke and fitly of Zion's sacred walls, And crowns that for the victors wait where splendor falls; Each at his post was earnest as hour by hour went round, Each reared the altar at his home, or in his pew was found; And strange indeed would be the fate, and point to fortune dire, If Uncle Thomas e'er should miss the old church choir.
HOME OF THOMAS BRACE
Here stands the temple lofty, with pillars four,
And here yon bell flung out its tones and pealed them o'er and o'er;
The tower loomed like a castle, with sweep of scenes around, And fingers pointing to the sky from holy ground.
A blessed, peaceful country! No surge of strife was there
When wagons wound from nook and dell all to that place of prayer.
Now rose each matron and each maid, and harkened son and sire, While Uncle Thomas gave the chord to the old church choir.
But changed indeed the faces from those of yore;
The viol and the flute are heard as through those aisles no more. . Grave men that lordly worshipped, pale mothers meek and gray,
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Their forms in yonder grassy slope are laid away; Sealed are those lips and silent that vied in homely throng; The eyes that scanned the noted page are dimmed, alas how long! The children then that sprightly played now listless sit and tire, And Uncle Thomas leads no more the old church choir.
The years have run a-fleeting! So soon their sum For all who tell the ancient tale in turn must surely come! Fond requiems, hear them tolling! And but a little while Until the daisies on the hill for us shall smile;
Yet in my dreams, entrancing, such strain the night doth fill The bass and tenor lusty loud, the trebles in a trill, And gates of heaven just ajar flash out their crystal fire Where Uncle Thomas seems to lead the old church choir.
Refrain 1164938
The old church choir! The old church choir!
Oh how their raptured voices rang, in accents swelling higher They sang the songs that David sang, to tuneful harp and lyre, The time when Uncle Thomas led the old church choir.
When in 1867 many of the people of the church and congre- gation were in favor of purchasing a pipe organ to take the place of the violin, flute, and bass viol, there was considerable opposi- tion by those who protested against such a "desecration of the house of the Lord." Finally the minister, Rev. Myron N. Mor- ris, saw fit to preach a sermon one Sunday taking for his text a verse from the book of Psalms: "Praise Him with stringed in- struments and organs." The opposition soon quieted down and the organ was purchased and continued in use for sixty years.
Before this chapter of memories is brought to a close, a few pages must be given to the old church bell. In former years in New England communities the church bell was an important factor in public life. It was customary to have it rung daily at twelve o'clock noon and at nine o'clock at night. In a sense the village sexton was the public timekeeper.
When the bell rang at noon, the farmers, busy with their labors in the fields, recognized the signal and repaired to their homes or to the shade of nearby trees to partake of the noonday
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meal and enjoy a brief season of rest. The children in school, and the teachers as well, rejoiced that the time had come for an hour of glad release. The tones of the bell at nine o'clock at night were not as cheery as at noon. Young people away from their own homes recognized the salutary warning that it was time to say good night and return thither, and all "honest people" at home or abroad realized that it was time to be in bed.
The tolling of the church bell announcing a death in the com- munity, the hour of a funeral service, or the passing of a funeral procession was of considerable importance at a time when there were no daily newspapers in the homes, and when the people were more inclined to give heed to the sad and solemn experiences of human life than in our hurrying, rushing age.
The bell which now hangs in the tower of the Congregational Church at West Hartford Center, is an object of considerable historical interest and importance. It bears on its surface the following inscription:
FOR WARD BARTHOLOMEW & BRAINARD HARTFORD DOOLITTLE FECIT 1828
It was probably purchased and hung in the belfry of the second church building as early as 1828. When the new church (now the Town Hall) was built in 1834, the bell was transferred to the tower of that church, from which its tones could be heard for miles in every direction; and again in 1882 it was transferred to its present position in the "graystone church."
For many years prior to its last removal, it was rung daily by the sexton, and also on the occasion of a death or a funeral in the community in accordance with the prevailing custom. In like manner its rapidly repeating tones have been heard before dawn on Fourth of July morning, to the delight of wide awake, patriotic boys, and the discomfort of late sleepers, but really as a patriotic recognition of an important historical event. During the later years, before the town had public provision for fire protection or means for giving alarm in case of fires, it has often been used as a fire alarm. It is almost a wonder that it still con- tinues in good condition, sending out its summons to public worship or to patriotic service.
In 1881, when the new church was in process of construction, Miss Florence E. Flagg, a native of West Hartford, wrote a poem about the old bell. A part of the poem is here given.
You're going to build a brand new church You've voted to, I hear, And put one side the old one now For fifty years so dear.
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You're going to sell out everything And build one grand and new; And those opposed to such a plan I think are very few.
Nor would I find a word of fault; Indeed I'm very glad To think you're going to do this thing, Although a trifle sad.
But when you come to tear it down, Whatever else you sell, For one thing there I fain would beg: Please spare our dear old bell!
And this I think you well may do; For look the country 'round, So fine a tone, so sweet and grand, Not oftentimes is found.
Such depth, such power are in the notes That from that steeple fall, And just a grain of sadness Is mingled with it all.
I've heard it time and time again For nigh to fifty years, Sometimes with heart filled full of joy, Sometimes mid falling tears.
I've heard it when at closing day It told the evening hour; Or called to church on Sabbath morn, With voice so full of power;
Or when the long, black funeral train Was passing slowly by, It tolled in sad and solemn tones For one more gone on high.
It always seemed to have a voice That acted like a spell; One always paused to listen to The ring of that old bell.
So when you build your fine new church, And move from out the old, Which is rather soiled, I must confess, Sometimes a trifle cold,
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When I sit within the new one, In the warmth and radiance shed By the sunlight through the window, Throwing light rays on my head;
And when I gaze around me On all things strange and new, In this church-to-come you're planning With its low and modern pew,
With carpets rich and tasty, Yielding softly to the tread, With its chapel, nave, and chancel, And its arched wall overhead,
You may build it all as suits you best. Whatever else you sell, For one thing there I fain would beg: Please spare our dear old bell!
And when you come to move it, Please handle it with care, As if it were a thing most frail, Something precious, rich and rare.
Miss Flagg is a daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Flagg, whose home was on the south side of Albany Turnpike near its junction with West Hartford Main Street. In addition to her studies in the West Hartford Academy and the Hartford High School, Miss Flagg pursued special study in biology and botany, and at one time devoted attention to laboratory work at Woods Hole, Mass. She taught for a few years in the West Hartford public schools at the North End and on Prospect Hill, and in 1884 was appointed teacher of natural science in the Mount Hermon School For Boys, in which position she is still rendering service.
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EARLY OCCUPATIONS AND INDUSTRIES
Many of the early inhabitants of the West Division were farmers. The sections of land which had been laid out in 1674, a mile and a half long from west to east, were of diversified char- acter affording fine opportunities for woodlands, pasturage, mea- dows, and cultivated fields. The farmers cultivated the staple crops of corn, potatoes, and grain, and kept horses, oxen, cows, swine, and poultry. During the years when the woolen mill was in operation in the southern part of the town, they kept sheep. The grand list of taxable property in the parish at that time re- veals the fact that there were at one time three thousand sheep on the farms of the West Division. The farmers' wives, and daughters made butter and cheese, which were in demand and highly prized in the private homes and grocery stores of Hartford.
Many of the farmers observed one day of each week as mar- ket day, when they drove to Hartford over the hilly, muddy, or dusty roads, to deliver their produce to their Hartford customers. This was really a holiday for them, when farm work was, to a considerable extent, set aside and when the farmers from different parts of the community met at the Hartford stores and, in addi- tion to doing their trading, spent some time in visiting, relating the latest news, discussing politics, the weather, or the crops, and telling stories which they had treasured up, or made up, for the occasion. Occasionally, possibly two or three times during the year, the farmers' wives or daughters went with them on market day to the city, to do their shopping at the dry goods stores, shoe stores, or milliners' shops. The procession of farmers' teams from the West Division and communities beyond to the west- ward, passing on their way to Hartford on market days, was quite a noticeable feature of the life of the community.
Another important occupation was that of operating the saw mills and grist mills. The first saw mill was Stephen Hosmer's, built in 1679 on the north bank of the stream now known as Trout Brook, where it crosses West Hartford North Main Street. Another old mill was located on the south side of Talcott Moun- tain Turnpike about where the present entrance to the premises of Morgan B. Brainard is. At West Hartford Center on the north side of Farmington Turnpike, at the foot of the hill where the Trout Brook Ice Company's plant has been located in these later years, was another old saw mill. At a later period Edward Stanley and John Thompson formed a partnership and built a combined saw and grist mill on the stream now known as Trout Brook, west of Mountain Road and quite a distance north of Farmington Turnpike, which was approached by a narrow road now known as Albany Place. This mill was destroyed by the
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HISTORY OF WEST HARTFORD
ICE REAM FEED CO.
1000
OLD CENTER GRISTMILL
breaking away of Reservoir No. 1 in 1867. The farmers would take their logs on sleds to the saw mills in the winter and pile them up by the side of the road or in the mill yard ready for the miller to convert them into timber or boards for use on the farms.
The first grist mill in the West Division was probably Brace's Mill located on the west side of Trout Brook at West Hartford Center, a short distance north of the Farmington Turnpike on or near the southeast corner of land now of Mary L. Whitman. A little further north there was a bridge across the brook and a road which is referred to in some of the old records as affording the first means of approach by teams to West Hartford Center, probably through what is now Fern Street. Capt. Childs Good- man for many years had a grist mill on the north bank of the Noyes River and the west side of Main Street near the former site of Stephen Hosmer's saw mill. Some of the charges found on the pages of one of his old account books reveal the fact that he had regular customers in different sections of West Hartford and in Hartford. When Mr. John C. Willian built his house a few years ago on land just north of the site of Capt. Goodman's mill, he found, in removing some soil near his house, one of Capt. Goodman's mill stones and made use of it as a doorstep.
At one period in its history, West Hartford was well supplied with cider mills. Some of these were connected with the dis-
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HISTORY OF WEST HARTFORD
tilleries. There were other mills of private ownership, located in different parts of the parish, to which farmers took their apples of the natural or ungrafted trees and the smaller apples of the grafted trees, to be ground and pressed for the production of cider.
One of these mills was in the extreme northern part of the town on the west side of the main street just north of Still Road. Another was located on the same street just north of Capt. Childs Goodman's grist mill, and near the site of Stephen Hosmer's saw mill. This was the joint property of several farmers who lived in that neighborhood.
On the old road over Selden Hill, just west of the West Dis- trict School house, was still another cider mill. Samuel Root, who made a business of bottling cider for private families, had a mill near his home on the north side of Albany Avenue, just west of Steele Lane.
The most popular cider mill in the community was located on the north side of Farmington Avenue, near the foot of the hill, just west of the corner of Quaker Lane, near the present cor- ner of Auburn Road. This was the property of Benjamin Gilbert, and it was a very popular place in the season of the year when it was in operation, as many of the people driving by on their way to Hartford, or returning, stopped to get a drink of sweet cider "right from the press," for which the good natured proprietor made no charge.
An account of the occupations and business enterprises of West Hartford one hundred years ago would not be complete without mention of the distilleries. There were five of them, as appears from a grand list of taxable property. For some reason four of these were in the western part of the parish. One was west of Mountain Road near the Farmington Turnpike as origi- nally laid out, at the point where the saw and grist mill was built and operated later by Stanley and Thompson. It is generally supposed that it was because of the location of the distillery there that the name Gin Still Hill was given to the hill on the present Farmington Avenue near by. Another was on Mountain Road, on the Solomon Porter farm, known in these later years as the Valentine farm. The third distillery was still farther north on Mountain Road, just north of its junction with the Talcott Mountain or Albany Turnpike and the fourth on the southeast corner of Mountain Road and Still Road, which took its name from the location of the distillery at that point. The fifth one was on the western side of Noyes River or Trout Brook, a little south of Bishop Road, on land which is now the eastern part of the property of George A. Kellogg.
During that period in the history of West Hartford when the cider mills and distilleries were in operation barrels of cider in the cellar were considered a necessary part of the winter store
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HISTORY OF WEST HARTFORD
STONE JUG FOUND IN RUINS OF AN OLD DISTILLERY
of provisions for the family - and cider, with fruit and nuts were essential features of hospitality extended to evening guests. The custom prevailed of offering to the minister at the time of his calls on the families of the parish a mug of flip, and I have seen the statement that the number of calls made by the minister in a day was sometimes determined by the number of mugs of flip which he could drink and still keep sober.
The School Committee going in a body to visit the schools in the northern part of the town were accustomed, in connection with their visits to call at one or more of the taverns for the pur- pose of quenching their thirst at the bar. The same conditions prevailed in other New England communities at that time.
There were blacksmith shops where the farmers had their horses shod and, in the winter, their oxen, their tools and chains mended, and in the summer the tires set on their wagons and carts. One of these owned by Levi Sedgwick, at the North End, is described in another chapter. His brothers Timothy and Wil- liam Sedgwick had a shop on the South Middle Road just west of its junction with Main Street. At the Center were two shops at a later period, one near the grist mill connected with a wagon shop operated by Whiton and Richardson, and another on the south side of Farmington Turnpike on what is now known as Nichols Court, owned by Lemuel H. Nichols. For many years a private shop for the use of the proprietor of the farm who shod
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his own horses and oxen and repaired his own tools was main- tained on the Francis farm on the South Road to Farmington, now New Britain Avenue. It is still standing on the farm now owned by Mr. Ralph E. Gerth, who devotes it to other uses.
At the junction of the roads now known as Park Road and Tunxis Road, and nearer to Park Road, George D. Gates, Sen., had a two-story shop in which he made churns for the use of the farmers - mostly by hand, or without machinery. Churns made by him may still be found in the attics of some of the old houses, but no longer used in making butter.
There were shoemakers or "cobblers," who spent a large part of their time, except in summer, making boots and shoes for private customers, and repairing those that were worn and needed attention. The shoemaker's shop was a single room in the rear or ell part of his house, usually cluttered with lasts, pieces of leather, and an assortment of boots and shoes waiting to be repaired. Sometimes customers would wait in the shop while the shoemaker was making minor repairs on their boots or shoes, and while watching him draw his waxed ends, or drive his shoe pegs, would engage in conversation with him, discussing topics of local interest. And so the shoemaker became a sort of village oracle, gathering and disseminating the new and wise opinions on various topics as a result of this contact with different residents of the town.
In addition to these and a few other minor occupations there were in West Hartford and somewhat in connection with other neighboring towns persons who were engaged in what may pro- perly be called itinerant occupations, those who were thus em- ployed going from town to town and house to house in the pur- suit of their occupations. In my boyhood days a man familiarly known as Tinker Warner, who lived alone in an old house on the southwest corner of Main Street and Fern Street used to go about on foot carrying his kit of tools and repairing pots, kettles, and tinware. Of course he became a very familiar figure and a well known resident, going from house to house and plying his trade as he found opportunity.
A tin peddler with his one-horse cart and load of tin ware, brooms, mops, clothes lines, and clothespins made regular journeys through the main street of the town, furnishing the housewives with such articles in his line as they might wish to purchase, accepting in payment, in part or for the whole amount, the rags, feathers, papers, bones, broken glass, etc., which they had preserved for him.
At one time a man drove through the principal roads of the town carrying in his wagon in a cask or can a quantity of liquid yeast which he sold in small quantities from house to house. He usually gave notice of his approach by ringing a bell. The women or some of the older children would come
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out with a few pennies to purchase the weekly supply for bread making. One such peddler had formerly been a member of a brass band, and had retained his bugle, which he used instead of a bell in giving notice of his approach to the homes. I have a very distinct and pleasurable memory of his playing tunes on his bugle as his horse climbed the long hill near our home on the return trip to his home at night. Of course the peddlers, the tinker, and the tailoress, going from house to house, gathered and distributed the news, as did the shoemakers and also the men who gathered in the horsesheds on Sunday during the intermission between the morning and afternoon services; and so the people kept well informed on matters of local news without the aid of a daily newspaper.
A maiden lady skilled in making garments for men, women, and children, called "the tailoress," was accustomed to go to the homes of the people in response to their calls, for the purpose of making or repairing clothing. She took with her all needed utensils for the accomplishment of her purpose, including shears, pressboard, and goose or large flat-iron, often remaining in the home, if at all distant from her own home, until her task was accomplished. Quite often the garments for the younger boys would be made from parts of the cast off garments of the fathers, when portions of the cloth were in good condition. All the outer garments worn by the writer in his boyhood until he was sixteen years of age were made by the tailoress or by his mother in the home.
There were a few men who were especially skillful in husking corn, and who were proud of their ability to husk a large number of bushels in a day. Their services were sought by farmers in different communities who had large fields of corn, and so these huskers went from town to town during the autumn months. Two of these corn huskers who came to West Hartford for several years in succession were expert fiddlers, and often during their sojourn in the community they would spend their evenings in fiddling for the enjoyment of companies of people gathered in some home or on some barn floor, when the time, until a late hour, would be spent in music and dancing.
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