USA > Massachusetts > Berkshire County > Cheshire > History of the town of Cheshire, Berkshire County, Mass. > Part 15
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In 1839 the road along the Hoosac river was built. A Mr. Erastus Beech who figured as a surveyor and builder of roads took the contract of the whole job from Adams to Pittsfield. Mr. Benjamin Whipple contracted for the portion running through the town of Cheshire.
Avoiding the hills, it followed the river valley, leaving the old road at the left when driving up the river from Pittsfield. Much improvement was made by this route, the road is nearly level nor is the distance materially increased. A cross road here and there connects the two highways and they unite just below the village of Cheshire.
In 1840 Cheshire mourned the death of Captain Daniel Brown whose name had been associated with that of the town for so many years. They carried him through the street, over the hill to the church where a crowd of sad looking farmers and village neighbors gathered by the bier on the green he had given to the town. A band of friends to whom he had been a benefactor brushed away the rising tear as they followed silently and with bared heads to the burying ground.
And the family went back to the home built for them by the departed. A home in which children and children's children had grown up-gone out for forays in the great world, and returned to its friendly halls again, where they had gathered for the bridal, for birthday and holiday festivals, where old age, thoughtful manhood and joyous childhood had mingled, where death had crossed the threshold the bier waited at the door, and where now Aunt Chloe lived in widowhood for some years.
Some new business firms were inaugurated during this era. April 1st, 1841 James B. Dean and William G. Waterman formed a partnership in the mercantile business occupying the store builded by Luther H. Brown and remaining together until 1844.
In 1845 E. D. Foster and W. G. Waterman joining their fortunes went into the same line of business in a store that they fitted up opposite the residence of Captain Brown, and here Mr. Foster was librarian of the School District Library just established, and the first ever organized in the place. Although not large in the number of volumes on its shelves, some excellent works filled its lists. Books did not lie in such rich profusion upon the tables of every parlor as they have done since, and children could
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not have a new one as quick as they finished the old. Every Saturday after- noon at one o'clock the doors were thrown open, and old and young but especially the young filed into the store in order to exchange their book.
In 1844 J. B. Dean opened a store for himself in the Wolcott building, ex- changing sites with R. C. Brown who crossing the street took with him the Post-Office and established, in the building vacated by Dean & Waterman, that mercantile house that stood for so long a term of years, and was so ex- tensively known in this vicinity.
R. C. Brown and L. J. Cole dissolved partnership in 1838. After which time the latter devoted himself entirely to his profession, riding over the hills and mountains, up and down the valley roads, visiting the sick and speaking words of consolation to the dying, through the slush and storms of winter, and the heated summer weather, year in and year out, until his stately form, and strong and cheery voice came to be as familiar, as well known as the elms that dot the shady homestead meadows, or the brooks that tumble down the mountain sides.
As straws show which way the the winds blow, the following anecdote tells of the impression left by this disciple of Esculapius upon the minds of those to whom he ministered :
Traveling once in one of the western states, as he came from a public dining room, where he had taken dinner with a companion, he was accosted by a stranger saying,
" Please sir, is your name Dr. Cole, and are you from Cheshire, Mass ?
Looking with wondering eyes upon his questioner the doctor replied in the affirmative, when the man went on :
" Well ! well ! There was an engineer here a few minutes ago who heard you talk, and wanted to wait until you came from the dining hall so that he might see you. He said he knew that voice, says he, 'I've not heard that man speak or seen him for twenty-five years, but I'd bet any amount that it's Dr. Cole from Cheshire. He doctored me when I had fever twen- ty-five years ago, and I'll never forget that voice.' His bell rang and he had to go, so I said I'd ask you," explained the stranger evidently highly gratified at the result of his questioning. Dr. Mason Brown died during this decade, leaving Dr. Cole the sole physician in town. After a year of business at the low store of the Wolcott's, in 1845, J. B. Dean rented that belonging to Russell Brown on the hill. Soon after Mr. Brown built his fine dwelling house on the brow of the hill beyond. An elegant home for the country in those days, and a house which was much canvassed while in process of structure, as many points in its arrangement were new, and of a type used by city people. Parlors furnished in bright colors of plush, and located on the second floor, were much in vogue, door bells that rang in the
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kitchen, convenient to Bridget or Mary Ann, were used in place of the old fashioned brass knocker, as well as transoms over the front hall door through which the light of a lamp, suspended from the hall ceiling, and shaded by a globe of red or yellow, streamed out upon the marble steps and door yard flagging. Many of these improvements were adopted by Mrs. Brown, who being more than ordinarily fond of flowers, also planned her yards and grounds after models in advance of the village gardens, so when the house with its surroundings stood complete it was an ornament to the village and the admiration of the people.
And now for a time everything moved on quietly and without change, Cheshire fell into a sort of a Rip Van Winkle nap, like that many another town has taken.
The stores mentioned were amply sufficient to supply the needs of people on all the outlying farms. The cheeses were made by farmer's wives in the dairy houses, through which the cool streams were carried in pipes, and where the huge tubs stood that received the milk at night and in the morn- ing, as it was taken from the milking yard in the flowing pails by the milkers. The farmers then knew nothing of factories, creameries and the thousand and one improvements of to-day. Their cheeses, however, were fine and brought a good price at the market place. No oleomargarine entered into their butter. They gathered the crops of hay and grain into great brown barns fragrant with the odor from their mows and deep bays, where the cattle tossed their horns from the stanchion rows, not Jerseys or Alderneys, but good substantial breeds that were preferred in those days of patriotism, to any that had cropped English daisies or had been reared where English clover cast its purple bloom over heath and lea. From these same barns in the early morning, chanticleer rang out his clarion call, and led forth his harem of good old-fashioned, yellow-legged and speckled fowl, with never a Shanghai or Plymouth Rock.
The farmer's wife lived a busy, but a cheerful, happy life. When her cheese was in the press, her dinner for the family and hired man was over, and her kitchen tided and put in order, on some pleasant afternoon in warm weather she arrayed herself in a pretty dress of print or lawn, made with gored skirt, and sleeves that were tight from the elbow to the wrist, but above the elbow were constructed to puff out to their utmost capacities. The effect was obtained either by starching an under and distinct pair of sleeves very stiff, or by stuffing the upper part with feathers. A soft handkerchief of whitest mull was crossed over the breast, a cap with ruffles fluted about the face, and a long apron of black silk tied around the waist completed the attire. A long pocket-bag in which was carried the knitting work of lambs' wool, the knitting sheath, a handkerchief, and often the snuff box, was
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taken on the arm, a green calash put upon the head, and walking leisurely along the footpath, sometimes across the pasture or meadow, she went to visit and take tea with a neighbor.
No invitation was given, none was required, every housewife held her- self in readiness for such an invasion upon her tea table. A hearty welcome was always expected and rarely or never failed.
The neat sanded parlor or "keeping room" was thrown open and sitting together these two chatted, as they knit, of the news. the doings at the corner. the church and its interests, who were married, who were sick, the last price for butter, and so on. They visited the flower and vegetable beds in the thrifty garden, looked at the cheese, the last piece of carpet in the loom, talked of the colors, which were fast, and those which might fade. examined the pieces of homespun flax and wool, exchanged the last new receipts for pickles or preserves, then sitting by the little round table in the bright, clean kitchen they drank their cup of refreshing "Hyson" before the " menfolks" came up from the half acre lot. After this the last pinch of snuff was taken, or perchance the last pipe smoked in company, and knitting into the seam needle. the visitor rolled up her work, and return- ing through the pasture with its dappled shadows lying long upon the grass reached her doorstep at sundown.
This was the simple way of paying visits three quarters of a century ago. The lives of the " forefathers of the hamlet" were uneventful and free from excitement, they were, however, lives of sterling worth, and the people were gradually approaching an era that brought them a fresh influx, and gave to them and to their mountain town a new impulse.
In 1846 the railroad from Pittsfield to North Adams wasconstructed. The yellow and red stage coaches dashing over the bridge and up the street, the blast of the driver's horn, and the fresh relay of horses brought in hot haste from the long sheds, that have tumbled down long ago, were soon to become a memory, while in their stead the whistle of the locomotive sounded up and down the narrow valley.
In the fall of 1846 the first train went through, to the delight of an eager crowd, who had either taken passage for the round trip, or who had gath- ered at the corners to see " the thing " go through. It was a great event in the annals of " Our Town," and changed it from a sleepy hamlet to a busy village.
A few houses had been built prior to the laying of the track. Mr. Henry Brown built in 1843 the house occupied in later years by Stephen Harkness. and that in which Mr. Harrison Brown lives he put up at, or about the same time. The depot was erected, Depot street surveyed and laid ont, while houses began to dot the fields in various directions.
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FROM 1837-1847.
Cheshire had never been a point of immigration for foreigners until the work offered by the laying of the track brought flocks of them, almost en- tirely of the Irish nationality. Little shanties with thatched roofs went up rapidly along the roadsides, or what they preferred, by the track, where they "squatted " on a little patch of ground, planted some potatoes, built the proverbial pig-pen, added a lean-to at the rear of the shanty which ac- commodated a cow and some chickens. Pigs, children and chickens were often seen playing together by the low door, and sharing the same bowl of milk. Frequently a long line of these shanties were erected until the surroundings bore the air of a young town from Cork.
Times have materially changed for these people since that day. With the advent of the engine they came, and have been steadily on the increase through the years. They have gotten acclimated and become way-wise. On the mountain slopes, among the charcoal burners, or where the clear- ings were made, the smoke of their chimneys arose in the clear air, or fell fluttering along the hill-tops when it was heavy, likea white ribbon. When the sun was low and their toil ended for the day they went to their homes, poor and plain doubtless, with sun-browned cheeks and hands hardened by toil; but as a rule frugal and industrious choosing, that narrow path that leads step by step to successful issue.
At the end of the forty years-among these men are some of our substan- tial farmers and worthy citizens. In our school rooms we meet the daugh- ters of Erin side by side with our own, holding equal positions both as teach- ers and scholars. The Marys and Bridgets have taken the places of the Betsys and Sallys of yore in the New England kitchens, and among our brightest girls.
Breaking up their lines, crossing the Atlantic, the experience is a deep one, and produces a radical change in the habits of their lives, which not only remains upon all their future, but stamps itself upon that of those who are yet to follow.
,But, however great the change in manners of association, of dress, or of character, whenever the Irishman goes in his journeyings, in the country, the town, on the Mississippi, or beyond the Rockies, he carries with him- whatever else betide-his own religion with all of its sublime mysteries which adds a hidden, but to him a very real charm to all the wonders he beholds in the new country.
For many years these foreign people were forced to go to Pittsfield or Adams to attend religious services, and when friends were dead the survivors car- ried them, through the weather, however inclement, to the consecrated burial ground of their own church. So it was that they began to agitate the subject of forming a church in Cheshire.
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The trains on the new railroad ran regularly, but the business in the be- ginning was not sufficient to warrant very many trains during the day. One down in the morning and up in the evening accommodated the travel- ing public wonderfully well, and was an improvement upon driving in a cold bleak day over the hills to Pittsfield, or down the valley to North Adams.
Passengers and freight cars were made up together, making the same run carrying the invoices of sand, iron, flour, meal and goods for the various stores, at the same time with the passengers. Many will be able to recall how exceedingly slow the progress that was made, and the half hour consumed in taking on and throwing off freight at the different stations, while the pas- sengers waited-patiently. It would require no wonderful stretch of imagi- nation to picture the howling that would accompany such a proceeding to- day. Mr. J. M. Bliss was the first depot agent, and was succeeded by Daniel Lowe.
In 1840 R. M. Cole entered the store on the hill as active partner, the business taking the firm name of R. M. Cole. This house of business built in 1806, holding the first post-office, has come down occupied as a place of business through all the years of the town's existence, and is the oldest place and the only one that dates back almost to the beginning with- out change of form ; built with the gable end to the street, rising three stories, it overlooks the village by day, and at night the lights twinkle from the windows a landmark to one approaching the village. In good condition this building still stands firm, and if no cyclone touches it, or fire kindles its frame the prospects are promising that it may witness the advent of another century.
In 1840 Luther H. Brown managed a saw-mill that stood upon the ground now occupied by the sand bed of J. B. Dean, which he afterward sold to Thomas Olin. Peter Dooley and Dennis Mechan, also, were lum- bering at the Notch, cutting trees on the mountain. They were when chopped the proper length slid down the mountain side in a long trough constructed for the purpose, and which landed the logs at a point where they could easily be hauled to the mills. Peter Dooley was one of the rep- resentative men of Cheshire. Strong in his business he always found fol- lowers. He was interested in several lime kilns which were in active opera- tion and which with the saw-mills and burning of charcoal on the monn- tains afforded employment for many men.
During this decade a new departure in the medical life of Cheshire took place. The Thompsonian practice sprung up and was well patronized in the vicinity. Physicians from other towns came in and served the families who imbibed the theory. Hemlock boughs were carried from the forest by the quantity and patients were steamed and toasted underneath feather beds and
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FROM 1837-1847.
piles of coverlids, were it August or December. However, as health was the object sought, when it was found it mattered but little how. Dr. A. G. Bliss, son of Orrin Bliss, studied this school of medicine and located at Cheshire.
In 1840 Daniel Brown, grandson of Captain Brown put up a saw-mill and blacksmith shop on the site of the Old Crown Glass Company.
In 1841 while Elder Rogers of Berlin, was preaching for the Baptist people, they were overwhelmed with grief at the death of Elder John Leland. For so many years they had looked upon him as their guide and pattern, had loved him with a love amounting almost to idolatry, and now he was taken from them without one note of warning. He left Cheshire in the winter of that year to attend a meeting held at North Adams, where he expected to preach. He was in his usual health and customary good spirits. After the service in the evening he returned to the house of a friend with whom he was stopping, and was taken during the night violently ill, an illness which terminated fatally within a few days. The day was a gray cold one of January. They brought their friend, a friend held in saintly rever- ence all through this vicinity, over the bare and frozen roads from Adams. The old church was crowded, packed with the throng that gathered to pay the last rites to the dead. They had assembled at the appointed hour, but the way was long, the roads were tedious, and the procession winding around the rough country hills made slow progress. All the morning the sad faced congregation waited. Sometimes one would rise walk out upon the steps and look over the hills toward the north, then slowly returning to his pew wipe away the tear, and with bowed head wait wearily and in silence. At length the bell high up in the belfry tower commenced its dreary toll. Some one struck up, in a clear, sweet voice, a hymn familiar to all, and in which the pastor had so often joined, and the words were taken up from all points in the church, in gallery and pew they sounded a sad requiem for the pastor who was coming up the steps, through the aisle to the pulpit for the last time.
In 1845 Elder William Loomis became the pastor, a hasty, nervous tem- perament, but eager and interested in his work. In 1846 he was replaced for Eider Platt Bets. In 1847 the services of Rev. Henry Clarke of Pittsfield, were secured. Elder Clarke was a scholarly man, educated in Eastern Massa- chusetts, he brought a breeze from the outside world, and aroused the church to a broader and better platform of action than it had hitherto known.
The church which was built with so much pride in 1793, was getting old" and dilapidated. During the winter of 1847-8 quite an extensive revival of religion blessed the labors of Elder Clarke. Many were added to the church of both young and old, and it seemed more flourishing than it had for many years. At the little hollow among the hills, whose peculiar shape
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together with the proverbial industry of its inhabitants won for it the name of " The Kitchen," in the early days, flows a clear and pretty stream. A rustic bridge spans the road, a dam built for the use of the saw-mill, grist-mill, and tannery caused the water to form a deep pool near the street and below the bridge. This spot had been singled out from time immemo- rial as the best place afforded for the administration of the ordinance of baptism by immersion. Whatever may have been the religious faith of a person, I cannot avoid the feeling that any one who ever witnessed this ordinance on a summer Sunday morning upon the banks of this brook will always remember the impressive beauty of the scene. The eager respectful crowd on the farther shore and bridge above; the dark robed form of the preacher slowly approaching, followed by the disciples, and their friends ; the few short words of prayer, those of holy consecration, ere he descended into the water: " In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost;" the gentle plash beneath the clear liquid; the rising to newness of life as the triumphant hymn swells on the breeze welcoming one more to the fold. Who can forget the scene?
Among the industries carried on during this decade was an amateur one, too interesting to pass by unnoticed: the rearing of silk-worms, and the weaving of silk. Mrs. Patience Whitmarsh was the leader in this work. She grew her own mulberry trees in the yard by the house where the way- side smithy blazed, and the low stone wall grew wild with vines and blos- soms. She procured the eggs for raising her first crop of worms, built benches around the room devoted to the work, and under the proper tem- perature they were developed through five stages at which time they wound themselves into the silken cocoon. At regular intervals the little things were fed by covering them thickly with mulberry leaves under which they could be heard greedily devouring their food.
The butterfly was not allowed to pierce the cocoon only in few cases, sufficient for future breeding, all others were at the proper time thrown into hot water, after which the fine threads of silk were spooled, and spun, and woven into such fabrics as the manufacturer desired.
Mrs. Whitmarsh worked under disadvantages, and probably did not grow rich in the enterprise, as she had only a common loom to work in. and common wheels to spin the infinitesimal threads, however there are a num- ber of articles still carefully treasured by her children as her handiwork in this wonderfully interesting occupation. A fancy work exceeding the crazy quilt departure of this generation.
In 1843 Allan Tucker removed to Pittsfield and Gilbert Dresser took the hotel at Cheshire. He was an energetic man, and after the building of the railroad always run a cab between the hotel and depot, taking passengers
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FROM 1837-1847.
and baggage to any point desired. There has never been so good a system for conveying passengers in the village as that inaugurated by Gilbert Dresser.
The Methodist society, which had been formed in Cheshire in 1823, had grown cool and dwindled away during these intervening years. Some de- vout believers of the faith still remained, but did not exist as a society.
In 1844 a young lady of Cheshire visiting at Savoy experienced religion, and joined the Methodists, returning home her interest was so great that she established a series of meetings at school houses and private dwell- ings. A movement that ended in the founding of a church. John Cad- well of Savoy, formed the first class at the residence of Warner Farnum in 1844.
The Universalist society was revived during this epoch. Its first move- ment was almost coval with the town. One of the noblest of American divines, William Murray traveled through here as early as 1795, preach- ing and teaching. He spoke from the pulpit of the west meeting house. One quite as early came doing the work of an evangelist, preaching in pri- vate houses and seeking converts to his faith upon every occasion.
One, perhaps the very first, stated minister was the Rev. Mr. Wilcox who occupied the house of the Third church on Sunday afternoons. He was a man of education and his name appears repeatedly on the town books in connection with the schools and their committees, as well as in other town offices. The Rev. Alfred Peck was stationed here in 1846.
Driving along the highways, or wandering through the quiet fields of Cheshire in the summer or autumn weather a thoughtful wanderer notes those neglected land marks of the past and its people, the grave stones, found not alone in the church yard, but on private domains, on isolated hillsides, in the stillness of the valleys, melancholy mile stones of life's journey, with inscriptions on mossy stones, name, date, sometimes linked with an histori- cal association, with a local memory, a hint of custom or character of which they are the sole memorial.
Among the most interesting is that upon the farm of Mr. William P. Bennet, two miles from town. On this rural ground rest the remains of Col. Joab Stafford, the hero of Bennington, sleeping below the ancient beech tree, having as the tablet tells us, "fought and bled for his country."
Here, too, is recalled the presence of that brave woman who in the low brown house over yonder, beyond the hill, watched by her cradle, for a tiny grave stone bears record that on one of the first October days it was conse- crated to the memory of the little sufferer who fought with death and went down in the conflict. Oftentimes one comes upon these time hallowed spots unawares. The grave-yards of the farm, neglected, forsaken, almost for- gotten. Looking down into some narrow inclosure, covered with thick
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