USA > Massachusetts > Barnstable County > South Yarmouth > Old Quaker Village, South Yarmouth, Massachusetts > Part 3
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Going back to "Cat alley" and to the new house built by Isaiah Crowell, we find but three houses on the street leading to Main street, the first being that occupied by the Owl club, which was built in 1827 by Daniel Wing, senior, the father of the present Daniel Wing. The ell of the house has been raised since those days, and the present social hall of the Owl club was formerly a barn. Daniel Wing, senior, was born in East Sandwich in 1800. He was the youngest of ten children of whom four have lived in South Yarmouth, viz .: Rose, wife of Zeno Kelley, Robert, George and Daniel. Daniel came to South Yarmouth in 1823 or 24 and tended salt works. In later years he associated himself with Silas Baker under the firm name of Baker & Wing and was interested in several fishing vessels that fitted out from Bass river. They also carried on the business of general country store in the build- ing between the Prince Gifford house and that of Silas Baker. He was a very popular man in his day and had many friends. He died in 1842.
Mr. Wing gives the following description of the country store spoken of above:
"They dealt in grain and must have had the usual difficulty in
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getting back sundry bags loaned to customers, for a notice posted in this store by a young clerk, Joseph Dudley by name, ran as follows:
'No bags to lend; no bags to let; You need not tease; you need not fret; You need not twist; you need not wring; For you'll get no bags from Baker & Wing.'
This clerk, who was quite a mechanical genius, devised a plan for keeping loafers from sitting on the dry goods counter, which was at once original, unique and decidedly effective. Certain needles connected with levers were concealed below the field of action, and the apparatus could be set in motion by a person sitting at a desk near the front window."
Opposite the Daniel Wing house is one now occupied by Frank L. Baker. When Mr. Wood was a boy, Doctor Green, one of the two physicians of the place, lived there, and I am of the impression that he built it. He used to go about the country on horse back, his medicines in his saddle bags. and was a most popular physi- cian and man, I should imagine from what I have been able to learn. The house afterwards came into the possession of Loren Baker and later still into the hands of his son, A. H. Baker, a man of whom those who knew him will always have the kindest of memories.
Between this house and that of David K. Akin, Mr. Wood told me, used to stand the little schoolhouse maintained by the Friends, although previously it stood on the land now occupied by Captain Whittemore (formerly Elisha Taylor's). Among the teachers were H. P. Akin, Rebecca Akin, Mary Davis, Sylvia G. Wing and Eliza- beth Sears. I remember the little building when it stood on the road leading to the magnesia factory. It was afterwards taken by Peleg P. Akin and used in the making of additions to his house. I do not know whether there are any photographs of the little building in existence, but it was very small with an entry on the front, and I should imagine could not contain more than twenty- five pupils at the most.
On the corner of the street, facing Pleasant street which runs now to the lower village but at that time only as far as the house of Orlando Baker, stood and still stands the residence of the late David K. Akin, (now the property of Captain Joseph M. Lewis) a staunch old Quaker and a man for those days of wealth and
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importance. He was president of the Yarmouth National bank for many years and one who commanded the respect and trust of the community. As his residence was next to that of my father's, I have most vivid recollections of him as a kindly, genial gentle- man, who was always a warm friend of all the members of my father's family. I have previously spoken of the little jewelry store that he kept on the street leading to the cellar house, which building is now standing on Bridge street. I have most interesting recollections of a pear tree that stood in his garden, near to the line of my father's fence, which, when I was a boy, was loaded down with tempting fruit, which he liberally gave to me from time to time.
His son, Peleg P. Akin, lived in the Zeno Kelley house on the road leading to the ferry, where he died in January, 1903. The present generation is familiar with his life and it is not necessary for me to insert any eulogies of him in this place. He was a man of a naturally retiring disposition, never coveting honors, and yet never shirking the duties of public trusts thrust upon him. The savings bank of the place owes mnuch to his fidelity and because of the fact that the depositors had the utmost confi- dence in his word. It was not his money that made people speak well of Peleg P. Akin; it was the worth of the man and the man himself.
Opposite the house of David K. Akin was and is an open field, and at the lower end, near the river, was a public "pound" in which were put stray cattle, but that disappeared years ago, as there were no cattle to put in it, but in those days there were large droves of cows that were driven to different places for pas- turage; one place in particular I remember being "old field," for- mely called "Kelley's Neck," in West Dennis. Every morning a boy collected the cows from different parts of the village and drove them over to that place and every night went for them, always finding the cows patiently waiting at the gate to be driven home.
Before leaving the David K. Akin house I would speak of three negroes who were at one time brought from the South by this old Friend and who for years lived in South Yarmouth. Eli and Noah Morgan and their cousin, Dempsey Ragsdale, were slaves, whom their master wished to set free. (This was of course before the war.) David Akin brought them North and took charge of the two Morgan boys, who were at that time 16 or 18 years of age, while David Kelley took Dempsey, who was nearly white. They all
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attended school in the village, made rapid progress in their studies, and at length started out to make their own ways in the world. Dempsey went to sea and from what I can learn, was soon lost to view; Eli became master of a vessel, and Noah went into business in New Bedford, and both became men who were greatly respected wherever they were known. Previous to this, David K. Akin had taken into his house a young colored girl named Lizzie Hill, who was a great favorite with everyone who knew her. She grew up with the other young people and in later life married and went as a missionary to Africa, where she died.
The next house to David K. Akin's was that of Elisha Jenkins. This house was probably built by Cyrenus Kelley, at least it was of him that my father bought it. It is with some hesitation that I write of my father, as my account might be tinged and biased by the deep affection I have for his memory, but in another place I shall take the liberty of inserting one of Mr. Daniel Wing's letters to The Register, that, coming from one outside the family, may be taken for an honest opinion of my father as a man and as a citizen. He was born in West Barnstable, and in his early life worked at his trade in the South, but eventually drifted to South Yarmouth, where he set up the business of shoemaking. He mar- ried Mary G. Crowell of West Yarmouth; her two sisters, Sophie and Harriet, married South Yarmouth men, and the three houses or homes were on the same street. In his early days my father was considered an excellent singer; he was always very fond of music, and it is from him that I get my taste for the same art. Both my father and mother were exceedingly fond of reading, which taste was handed down to all of the children.
I have only one story to tell of my father, which I heard from my mother:
One winter's day a man came home with him to stop all night. I do not recall his name, but I think he was one of the many who had worked for my father. Anyway, he was going out to join the Mormons and evidently hoped to secure a convert. He and my father sat up all night discussing and arguing religious questions, while at the same time, the guest was trying to con- vince his host of the truth of the new doctrine and urging him to leave all, go with him and become a Latter-Day Saint. "And that," said my mother, "is as near as we came to becoming Mor- mons." Not very near, for I fancy that my father did not get the worst of the argument.
. Nearly opposite my father's house was that of Captain Emery
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Sears, according to Mr. Wood, which later on became the property of Zeno Baker. Mr. Wood could tell me no particulars of Captain Sears, but I recall Zeno Baker very well. He was a man of excel- lent education and in winter, when he did not go to sea, he taught school. He taught in the present building, in the old red school- house, in Dennis and other places, and was, for those days, an excellent teacher of the commoner branches. He was also a superior penman and the pages of the secretary's records when he was on the school board are beautifully written.
I remember two stories he used to tell of his experiences as a teacher; one was of a note he received from the parent of one of the pupils, which read:
"ples smiss Mary to recis."
The other was of a boy who had two brothers, Coley and Luke. One day they were all absent, and the next day upon being ques- tioned as to the reason. the boy replied, "Coley, Luke and I, sir, we stayed home from school, sir, 'cause Sally had a sore toe, sir." But why Sally's infirmity should prevent the boys from attending to business I never learned.
It was from a tree in the corner of the lot next to Zeno Baker's that all the so-called "silver leafs" came. I think the original was brought from Maine. We acknowledge they are often a nuisance, but at the same time what would the village have been without them? They are handsome trees, they grow rapidly, they have done much to beautify our streets; we wanted just such a tree, but we did not want so much of them.
Next to Zeno Baker's was the house of George Wing, a brother of Robert and Daniel Wing, senior, now the property of Mrs. Chase. Its appearance then was much like that of its neighbors. At one time it was occupied by Joseph Howland, who came from New Bedford, believing that one could find peace and an absence of temptation in a village of Quakers.
Then came the house of James Davis, recently moved nearer the river and changed beyond recognition of its former self. He had an adopted daughter, Amelia B. Russell; a son, Russell Davis, and a son, William P. Davis, for many years cashier of the First Nation- al bank of Yarmouth. Russell Davis was one of those eccentric people who are found in every country village. He was known as "Lord Russ," and stories told of his eccentricities would fill a book. In appearance he was short and thick set, with a merry, laughing face and the rolling gait of a sailor. He was an old bachelor, but
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report said that he had had his romance like most others. After the death of his father he built himself a house in the fields near the river, half way between the upper and lower villages. The living room was decorated or papered with pictures cut from mag- azines and illustrated papers, which were not inartistically arranged or grouped. In one corner of the room was his berth or bunk, similar to those on board ship, for although he had never been to sea, he delighted in everything pertaining to it, and in his leisure hours fashioned some of the most beautiful of miniature ships. He was a great reader; one might say of him that he devoured books, often sitting up all night to finish a story that particularly pleased him. One of his peculiarities was to imagine himself a poet, and as the result, he wrote so called poems without number. Unfor- tunately, he had no idea of rhyme or rhythm, which at times re- sulted in making his effusions rather amusing reading. He was always ready to read them at the meetings of the "Lyceum" and they were published in the local papers from time to time, which gratified his pride and really hurt no one.
Across the road from the James Davis house was that of Orlando Baker, which Mr. Wing considers as one of the oldest in the place, 116 years at date of writing. According to Mr. Wing, it was built by Michael Crowell, and conveyed to Benoni Baker and his uncle, Obed Baker, in 1799, the former of whom lived there when he was first married. Michael Crowell was in active business in 1792. He was an uncle of Lewis Crowell and lived in a hollow between Cap- tain Zeno Baker's and the river. He also owned the tract be- tween Main street and the river and between the town landing and a line not far from the old magnesia street. Lewis Crowell lived there before he moved to the "red house." Orlando Baker's gar- den came across the present street leading to the lower village, for Pleasant street ended at his garden and the street leading to the magnesia factory. His farm sheds were down that street on the other side of his garden. He was one of the original members and a pillar of the Methodist church; a man who lived, to the best of his ability, upright before God and man; more than that none of us can do.
Between the two houses of Orlando Baker and Elisha Jenkins, who by the way, married sisters, was an open piece of land just wide enough for a building and Elisha Taylor of West Yarmouth, who also married a sister, purchased the same and built the house now owned by Captain James L. Whittemore. 'Squire Taylor, as he was called, never did any manual labor in his life; his father
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left him a little money and by a life of almost penurious saving he accumulated a fair fortune, the income of which supported him and his wife. For many years he was a victim of the "shaking palsy," which affected both his limbs and his speech, so that it was almost impossible for a stranger to understand a word he said. In his younger days he was considered a man of sound judgment and just. Ile served the town as selectman for twenty-six years, which showed that his townspeople appreciated his worth, or else showed that in those days there was no great desire for office, and considering that there was no money in it and very little glory, it is not to be wondered at that men were kept in office for
a quarter of a century. A position of that kind in these
days
carries with it precious little glory, but the financial reward is by no means small in proportion to the amount of work it entails.
Leading from the Orlando Baker house was a road to the river, and at the foot of it was the magnesia factory, but not in Mr. Wood's boyhood days, for it was not built until 1850. The first factory was burned two years later and then the second structure was erected by its owner, Franklin Fearing. After his death the Wing brothers carried on the business for a time, but the rapid diminishing of the salt works made it impractical to con- tinue it and the building was taken down.
From this point until we come to the place where now stands the summer residence of Freeman C. Goodeno, there were no dwell- ings, excepting upon the main street. All the land was covered with salt works, which business, as far as South Yarmouth is concerned, must have begun about t811, according to estimates made by Mr. Wing, although the making of salt by solar evaporation dates back to 1776, and in 1802, according to the reports of the Massachusetts Historical society, over forty thousand bushels of salt were thus made on Cape Cod, several years before South Yarmouth had built its first vat. In 1837, 365,000 bushels of salt were manu- factured in the town of Yarmouth valued at $110,000, so that it can be easily seen that when the industry got fairly on its feet it increased rapidly and was a financial success.
From the house of Selim Baker (now Osborne White's) to the house of Hatsel Crosby, there were no houses, but a large area of salt works extended to the river, not to mention many other "stretches" of works farther down, even to the lower village and on the other side of Main street clear to the woods. It was -- or rather would be today-a novel sight: those long lines of covered vats containing salt water in various stages of evaporation, while
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on the shores were at one time eight mills, whirling and pumping water from the river.
It is a great pity that a few of the salt works and at least one mill could not have been preserved. Few have any idea of the picturesqueness of the river at that time; artists were not long in finding it out and for awhile they were often seen in this region. Then came the era for improving things, and, as is generally the case, the improvements have cost far more than could ever be realized at the time. The actual value of an old mill as a market- able piece of property was not great, but its value in attracting people to the village and in making it something differ-
ent from other villages was untold.
The
salt
works were a
never-failing source of pleasure to the boys; they furnished "slides," to the detriment of one's clothes; they furnished fascinating places to play robbers and pirates; the "coolers" in which salt was handled made splendid canoes, and there were almost a thousand and one entertainments that the salt works and the surroundings furnished.
Having made our tour of the side streets of the village, we come back to the corner of Main and Bridge streets. On the Long pond road, the left hand side going to Yarmouth, was the house of Amos Farris, but on the right hand side there was nothing but pine woods down to the house of David Chubb; then we came to the house of James Covill (later Isaiah), where Sidney Chapman now lives.
Next to it was Reuben Farris's house. He was the miller. It is a low one story house, with a kitchen that goes the whole length of it, and other smaller rooms on the same floor. It was thought in those days that the kitchen was the principal and most important part of the house, and in some respects it is still. Uncle Reuben was a Universalist, and naturally in a community of Friends and Methodists he was not religiously at home, so when the Universalist church was built in South Dennis he attended services there. The next tenant of the house was his son Samuel, who also succeeded him as miller, and later on his grandson, William R., lived there for a number of years.
The next house, that of Mrs. R. D. Farris, was not built until 1856, and the store not until 1866. R. D. Farris was, in the carlier days, a successful merchant. He learned the trade of harness maker of Benjamin Hallett in Yarmouth, the old shop now being next to A. Alden Knowles's store, I believe, and used by Mr. Knowles as a carriage house or barn. His first store or shop was a little building now used by Mrs. Phoebe Farris as a woodhouse.
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He gradually added tinware, stoves, etc., and finally groceries. He was naturally a trader, being shrewd and watchful to keep up with the various changes. His first wife was Mercy Easton, and, as he has often told, they went to housekeeping in one room of his father's house. Later on he built the Mrs. Phoebe Farris house and later still the one next to the store.
At the head of Bridge street on Main, was a house occupied by Richard Kelley and later by the Widow Hovey, who kept a board- ing house, and later still by William Crocker, Loren Baker and then by Braddock Baker, whose heirs owned it until it was bought by Abiel Howard, torn down and the present house erected. Braddock Baker kept the general store previously run by Baker & Wing. He was a short, heavy man, with stooping shoulders which impressed him firmly in my boyhood mind. He was one of the original members of the Methodist church, and undoubtedly did much to put it on its feet when it was young and struggling. I can remember that both he and his wife were speakers at the prayer meetings, and I also remember that when I was a boy, on being sent to his store in the morning and not finding him in, I would go to his house and generally find him at family prayers. My errand or presence never shortened the service, and I had to wait until the last verse had been read and the last "amen" said. He had several children, among them Darius Baker, judge of the Supreme court of Rhode Island, who at one time was my school teacher. One little thing I remember in connection with the Judge was that one day I took up a volume of Shakespeare which he had been reading, and being too young to know anything of the merits of the great bard, although a book of any kind possessed a fascination for me, I asked if it was "good." He turned to me and said very impressively, "We do not speak of Shakespeare as 'good'; it is very interesting." That was a lesson for me, and I never forgot it.
In the late Mrs. Delyra Wood's house lived William Farris, father of Allen Farris, who lived farther down the street. His wife, Aunt Liddy, was a large woman, a good, motherly soul, who was one of the greatest talkers I have ever known. She would come over to my mother's house as far as the door, in too much of a hurry to come in, and there she would stand and talk for half or three- quarters of an hour. Her daughter, also named Liddy, and wife of Zeno Baker, was one of the smartest women to work and one of the kindest of neighbors. I shall never forget Aunt Liddy Baker, for she spanked me for stealing her pears, and strange to say, my
-
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mother whipped me for the same offense when I got home!
The present Methodist church is but little over sixty years old, so that we can hardly speak of it as "old." It was not standing when Mr. Wood was a boy, and was built after I was born, so we will simply say it is growing old.
But in the yard or enclosure leading to the present schoolhouse there was a building, "the little red schoolhouse," the old district schoolhouse, which now stands back of the bank and is used as a storehouse. Here Mr. Wood went to school; here Mr. Wing went to school, to Zeno Baker as teacher. Mr. Wood remembers David Kelley as his teacher at one time, and Sophia Crocker of West Barnstable. The curriculum was not extended, but the "three Rs" were well taught and the ground work well laid for a higher education if the pupil was ambitious to go farther than the dis- trict school could take him. Spelling schools and spelling contests were popular in those days, and the old schoolhouse witnessed many an exciting time in such diversions.
The present schoolhouse, built in 1855, ended the usefulness of the old building, which was removed to another location and used for more ignoble purposes. The marks of the seats, the depres- sions in the floor, the names written on the plastering, are still there. The fiftieth anniversary of the opening of the present schoolhouse took place in June, 1905, and was participated in by all the pupils of the public schools of the town.
The house of Zenas Wood, in which his son, Orlando Wood, lived during the last years of his life, stood next to the schoolhouse grounds, and was built by Moses Burgess. He came from West Barnstable, worked at his trade, that of a carpenter, and built for himself this house. Later, he moved back to his old home. Or-
lando F. Wood was a notable example of a young old-man. He
was born in the village in 1825 in a house that stood upon the spot now occupied by the paint shop of Manton H. Crowell. As a boy he attended school in the little old red schoolhouse which stood on the present school grounds, at the little Friends' school- house which stood on land of the late David K. Akin, between his house and that now occupied by Frank L. Baker, and at the "academy." He went to sea when a boy, the principal incident of which was that he fell from aloft and narrowly escaped death. Ile worked in the "rope-walk" and later learned the tailor's trade in South Yarmouth, which trade he practised in New Bedford and Boston, eventually returning to his native village, where he lived until his death in 1911, at the age of 86.
.
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Next to the Zenas Wood house stood the shoe shop of Elisha Jenkins, my father, and it is to Mr. Wing that I am indebted for the following, which was published in the Yarmouth Register: "The shoe store now owned and occupied by Mr. E. T. Baker and situated on Main street, is an enlargement of the long, low building where, some years ago, shoes were both made and sold. At one time a mimber of young shoemakers from Lynn were employed there. They were full of fun and frolic, and in those days of practical jokes, if a neighbor's horse was found in the morning, gaily striped with bright colors, or if some sailor man was unable to open any of his outwardly swinging doors because of a chain cable passed entirely around his house and at- tached to an anchor set deep in the lot on the opposite side of the street, the mischief was quite likely to be charged to the shoe-shop employes.
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