Reminiscences of a nonagenarian, Part 13

Author: Emery, Sarah Smith, 1787-1879; Emery, Sarah Anna, 1821-1907
Publication date: 1879
Publisher: Newburyport [Mass.] : W. H. Huse, Printers
Number of Pages: 362


USA > Massachusetts > Essex County > Newbury > Reminiscences of a nonagenarian > Part 13


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 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43


From time immemorial it had been the custom for parties to visit Plum Island, in September, when the plums were ripe. Families joined through- out the neighborhood, or the young men and maidens, in as smart turnouts as could be secured, gaily hied, in a long procession, to spend a day or an afternoon in innocent amusement. Sev- eral parties of married people in By- field had made this annual excursion, and as some of the young ladies at the Seminary from the interior towns, who


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had never seen the sea, had expressed a desire for the ride, the young gen- tlemen of the parish resolved them- selves into a committee to make the necessary arrangements for a Plum Island party. Pains were taken to make it in every respect a first-class affair, the most perfect etiquette being observed in the invitations and arrange- ments. The intelligence of what was afoot, reached the Seminary a day or two prior to the issue of the invita- tions, making quite a stir amongst the pupils. The preceptress made no ob- jection to the proposed recreation, but the younger assistant, Miss Ann, or as she was then termed Miss Nancy, set up such a violent opposition that it reached the ears of the gentle- men. Amongst the most prominent of the Byfield beaux, was Joseph Noyes, son of Mr. Lemuel Noyes. Of a wealthy family and liberally educated, with a pleasing person and address, this young man had been selected as the most suitable escort for Miss Nancy Hazeltine, but upon learning her disap- proval of the party, he paid his devoirs elsewhere, and several of the girls sought Dr. Parish's advice respecting the propriety of accepting their invita- tions. The Doctor said go. "He was proud and pleased that the young men of his society had thus given them the opportunity to view the beauty, wonder and sublimity of the mighty ocean." That summer Mr. Moses Colman had purchased a new chaise. This stylish vehicle, the hight of ton, had a square, canvas covered top, with a body painted in bright vermillion, the rest of the wood-work dark brown, the lining and cushions were of drab broadcloth, and an oileloth covered the floor. Da- vid Emery owned a horse ; Daniel Col-


man would take his father's, but which should have the chaise? Poor Mr. Colman puzzled over this problem all one morning. At length a happy idea suggested itself which was made known at the dinner table. Much to his son's astonishment the old gentle- man, in his loud, cheery tones, abrupt- ly exclaimed : "Boys the one that carries the best girl to Plum Island shall have the new chaise."


An addition was building to Mr. Colman's house : at the table were two joiners from West Newbury, Mr. Jonathan Chase and Daniel Silloway. Before the disconcerted young men could reply, Mr. Chase exclaimed : "Then David must have the chaise, for he will take Sallie Smith, and she is the best girl in West Newbury." "Good, good," the gentlemen replied witlı delight. David shall have the chaise. Daniel, as soon you have swallowed your dinner go over to Mose Dole's and hire the best chaise he has."


Chaise making had already become a thriving business in West Newbury, but Mr. Moses Dole of Byfield did most of the blacksmith work. The different artisans often clubbed together to build a lot of chaises, which were divided amongst them; this caused Mr. Dole to usually have a number of these vehicles for sale or to let.


The anticipated morning at length dawned clear and bright, a lovely Sep- tember day. Mrs. Colman had insist- ed that .I should come over to Byfield and dine. David came for me about ten o'clock. The new chaise was re- splendent, and "Bob," a chubby sor- rel horse had been groomed to match, and the silver mounted harness was as lustrous as whiting could polish. David


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in a handsome new suit looked as ele- gant as his equipage. White cambric or dimity was the fashionable dress for such an occasion. I wore white cam- bric, and a straw bonnet trimmed with a broad, white, lutestring ribbon.


David was in high spirits. He had just returned from Boston, and enter- tained me during the ride with a de- scription of his visit. He had dined with his friend, Charles Parsons, at his father's, Judge Parsons' mansion. Charles had greatly diverted his visitor by introducing his youngest brother as, " this is our Thof, a great sarpint, just like pa."


At dinner the judge had been espec- ially entertaining. After minute in- quires respecting his boyhood's home, he fell to recounting anecdotes of his school days. The parsonage boys, as is proverbial of minister's sons, had been great rogues.


"One day in mid winter their teacher was invited to dine at the par- sonage. He was a self-sufficient, pom- pous coxcomb, much disliked by his pupils, and the minister's boys deter- mined upon a practical joke. The snow was frozen hard, and the master, to shorten the distance, had come across lots from his boarding place. After dinner, while the pedagogue was sipping hot punch, and smoking a pipe with their father, his hopeful pupils proceeded to crack the ice in a small stream which their teacher would pass on his way home. This accomplished, they hid amidst some alders. It was a tedious while to wait, for the punch and tobacco were good, the minister entertaining, and his parlor warm and pleasant. At length towards dusk their patience was rewarded. The lord of the birch was descried ap-


proaching, swinging his cane, full of self-importance and good cheer. Proud of having dined at the parsonage, he strutted forward with an increased as- sumption of arrogance, dressed in his gold-laced cocked hat, velvet coat and breeches, silk stockings, and gaiters. On he came, his head high in air, his cane twirling from his fingers, on - on - crack - crackle - splash - splurge - kersouse went the discomfitted Dom- inee knee deep in the brook, much to his chagrin and ire, and to the huge delight of the watchers amid the alders.


There were several sons, and one of the younger boys having inherited all the worn, dog-eared school books of his elder brothers, determined that they should descend no farther ; so as fast as a leaf was committed to mem- ory he tore it out and crammed it into a hole in the wall beside his desk, thus at the end of the study the book was minus, excepting covers. Lem. Noyes, a somewhat loutish, dull boy, often became a butt for their jokes. They had excited his wrath, and he had threatened to thrash them. He was larger and stronger than the minis- ter's sons ; they knew they stood no chance in an encounter of fisticuffs, so they concocted a plan to get the better of their school-mate. In the vicinity of the school house was a tan yard, and having laid some loose boards over one of the vats, they challenged Lem. to a race. The unsuspecting youth eagerly joining in the sport, of course was permitted to get ahead ; proud of his agility, the poor fellow rushed for- ward with a tremendous effort, to sud- denly find himself lylng among the hides. Amongst the scholars was a negro boy. Most of the families in Byfield in the olden time held one or


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more slaves, and there was usually quite a sprinkling of the sable hue amongst the pupils of the district school. The boys under pretence of dressing the darky's head saturated his wool with oil, then they put him up to some prank for which he was sure to receive punishment. The teacher was the one who had received the cold bath, a great dandy, always foppishly attired. Coming up the aisle and noticing the delinquent he gave the little nig a sound cuff in the side of the head which spattered the oil all over his fine clothes. The master in impotent rage glanced over the school house. The parson's boys were the impersonation of serious studiousness, and the other scholars, though wholly innocent of the trick, but many of whom having wit- nessed the transaction were on the broad grin, received the castigation which was so richly deserved else- where.


I was greatly amused at these stories, and the ride seemed unusually short. Some ten years previous New- bury had received an heir, a two years old boy of African lineage. What was to be done with this waif? The over- seers of the poor met to decide. It was customary to put such children, to remain until twenty-one, into a family, which received a small compensation from the town until the child was seven years old ; after that his services were considered a sufficient remuneration. Somebody must take little Charles Fields, but where could this somebody be found? Mr. Colman's sons always averred, " that father was never satis- fied unless he had a parrot, a monkey and a nigger." The black baby with his round woolly head, shining eyes and glistening teeth, fairly won the


benevolent gentleman's heart, and as no one else offered, he armfulled up little Charley, and an hour later, much to Mrs. Colman's astonishment, he placed the boy in her lap, with the in- junction "to take care of the little ras- cal." The command was faithfully exe- cuted. Charles received every privi- lege that had been accorded to the sons of the family, with the exception of the academic course at Dummer Academy. I am sorry to say that a poor return was received for this trouble and care. The little black rascal grew up a big rascal, causing much vexation until his decease, which occurred in middle life. At this time he was a stout lad of thirteen. Cap in hand, with a pro- found obeisance and a great display of ivory, he swung aside the gate at the head of the avenue as we drove up.


Mrs. Colman gave me a cordial, and Mr. Colman a rapturous greeting. "Had he not always promised that I should be David's little wife?" I was introduced to Mr. and Mrs. John Colman. John, the oldest son of Deacon Colman, had married a lady by the name of Danforth. This couple signalized themselves by their migra- tory life, during which they made thirty-two removals. Some half doz- en of these were between Byfield and Maine. Mrs. Colman used to boast that she had crossed the ocean between Newburyport and the District of Maine fourteen times, and she would add, "the happiest time in my life was when I was midway in these removals ; at that point I was rejoicing at having left the old place and look- ing forward with hope to the new."


As was natural, these rolling stones gathered little moss, but always san- guine and cheerful, they passed as


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happy and contented a life as either of the family. At this time they were paying a farewell visit to their brother prior to one of their flittings eastward.


During the Revolutionary war Dea- con Colman had filled an army order for boots and shoes. These with other clothing Moses had taken in mid-win- ter to New. Jersey in a covered cart drawn by a span of horses.


During dinner Mr. Colman gave a graphic description of the ragged and desolate appearance of our troops, on his arrival at Morristown, just at the close of that winter so memorable for suffering, and the joy with which his arrival was hailed.


" Yes," exlaimed old Mitchell, " and the shoes were a good honest make, but the stockings, most of them, were a darned cheat, and the woman that could thus deceive a poor soldier must have a mighty small soul." The hose had been knit loose, then stretched on a board fashioned like a last ; when washed they shrunk so as to be scarcely wearable. This was in the good old times ; human nature is much alike in all generations.


The rendezvous for the party had been appointed at Deacon Ben. Col- man's. From a dozen to fifteen chaises formed in procession, and gaily trot- ted to the island. Our visit was ex- pected. Mr. Clifford and his waiters were profuse in their attention. We were ushered into the parlor, wine hav- ing been served, we proceeded amid much fun and frolic, to make our way to the beach over the loose sand. Joseph Noyes escorted a Miss Parkis, the daughter of Dr. Parkis, a distin- guished physician of Hanover ; and Daniel Colman, Miss Betsy Smith, a great witch, and the only daughter of a wealthy family in Dover. Miss Par-


kis and Mr. Noyes were very merry at Miss Nancy Hazeltine's expense. As Mr. Noyes drove up to take Miss Parkis, Miss Hazeltine, glancing from the window, exclaimed, "there's Joe. Noyes, he has come to take me to Plum Island, but he will find I do not coun- tenance such frivolity." To her cha- grin Miss Parkis tripped down the stairs, Mr. Noyes assisted her into the chaise, and with a polite salutation to Miss Nancy at the window, drove away.


After a merry afternoon, we returned to the hotel, where an elegant supper awaited us, spread in the upper hall. At its close, as it was near sunset, the chaises were ordered. At Newbury- port Mr. Emery and myself bade the others good evening, and took the di- rect route for West Newbury.


The young ladies at the Seminary were so delighted with their excursion, that girl-like they gave enthusiastic descriptions of the ride. This brought such severe animadversions from the assistant teacher, that her pupils, some of them as old, or older than herself, lost patience. The matter spread amongst the gentlemen, and the big scamps,in the total depravity of their unregenerate hearts, planned a practi- cal joke at the expense of the lady whom they regarded as righteous over- much. I never knew who originated the plot, but strongly suspect that it might have sprung from the creative brains of Miss Betsy Smith and Daniel Colman. Few that only knew the staid man in after years, could compre- hend what a gay fellow he then was.


In Mr. Colman's employ was a young man, the son of a deceased pastor of Rowley, John Jewett, a very clever, but rather simple fellow, who was in-


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formed that he ought to invite Miss Haz- eltine to go to Plum Island. "She re- ceived no invitation at the time of the party ; for the honor of Byfield this over- sight ought to be repaired. A clergy- man's son, he was the one for her escort. He should have the new chaise and David's horse, the most stylish equip- ment."


At first John demurred, but his cour- age having been raised by the bribe of a pound of tobacco, an article of which he was inordinately fond, a few eve- nings after the party, the young man all in his best - and he always dressed handsomely-dashed up to Dr. Parish's door, in the unexceptionable turnout, and inquired for Miss Nancy Hazeltine. Upon that lady's appearance, in his most courtly manner, and he was very well bred, he requested the pleasure of her company on a ride to Plum Island the next afternoon. Miss Nancy drew back in surprise and horror, and with an indignant exclamation, slammed the door in the face of the astonished gal- lant, who after standing a moment on the door-stone in bewildered astonish- ment, returned to the chaise, and drove home with curses both loud and deep upon his lips. Miss Nancy sought her room in such an hysterical excitement that it roused the household.


Dr. Parish was subject to slight fits of illness, accompanied by great de- pression of spirits,- his hypo spells, his wife denominated them. He had been suffering from one of these at- tacks, had been confined to his bed sey- eral days, but upon learning what had occurred he rose, and hurrying on his clothes, summoned the young teach- er to his presence. She appeared irate and sobbing. Bidding her be seated, the clergyman exclaimed, "Why, Miss


Nancy, I am surprised at this excite- ment. Do not let your feelings be wounded ! John Jewett is a very esti- mable young man, very estimable. He is a minister's son, Miss Nancy, his father was a very worthy man, old Par- son Jewett of Rowley. Dry your eyes, and compose your spirits, my dear, no harm is done, John is a deserving young man, a minister's son, Miss Nan- cy, a minister's son."


Somewhat mollified, Miss Nancy re- tired, and the clergyman called for tea and toast, entirely cured of his hypo.


CHAPTER XXVI.


My father had reached his goal. By industry and economy the whole of the ancestral acres had been secured. His heart was in his work ; he was a good agriculturalist, and had given great at- tention to fruit culture. He had plant- ed and grafted some two or three hun- dred apple trees ; there was quite a va- riety of pears and a thriving peach or- chard on the place. Grapes grew spontaneously. The stone walls were covered with vines which bore luxuri- antly large, luscious clusters both of the purple and white grapes. There was a difference in the quality of this wild fruit, some being equal if not su- perior to that produced in our gardens at the present time. The farm on the September of that year presented a tempting array of fruit. The trees never looked finer than on the twelfth of the month. The day was warm and cloudy ; at dusk it began to rain. I had a piece of linen whitening on the


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grass ; fearing it might mildew, I went to take it in, and was struck by the sul- try stillness of the night. After I went to my chamber, I sat some time at the open window enjoying the quiet rain which was falling steadily. About mid- night I was awakened by the unbarring of the front door, and mother screaming " something terrible is coming !" as she hastily opened and closed it. At the moment a strange rush and roar struck my ear, rapidly advancing. I could liken it to nothing but wagons rattling over frozen ground, but it more nearly resembled the noise of a railroad train. Lightning flashed, thunder pealed, and rain poured in tor- rents. Springing from bed, I seized my sister, a girl of ten, and with the half awakened child descended the stairs, and passing through the front entry, entered the west room. The rush, roar, crash and din are wholly indescribable, accompanied by such dense darkness, that not a thing was discernible. Half way across the front room, we were stopped by a ter- rible bang and crack, at the same mo- ment a missile was hurled through the broken window, which, striking Susan, fell in the fire-place opposite. The child shrieked fearfully ; dragging her by the arm, I rushed into the kitchen screaming, "Sukey is dead, Sukey is dead ! "


The whole family had collected in the room. The cry was for a light, but in the fright and confusion not a candle- stick of the number always there could be found. I mustered sufficient compo- sure to bring a candle from the box in the cellar-way ; raking open the embers on the hearth it was quickly lighted. Speedily as this had been effected, by the time I had put it in the candle-stick


the tornado had passed. As I turned to place the light on the table, the moon burst from the clouds, its beams falling brightly on the white floor. Father opened the back door. With the ex- clamation, "I am ruined !" he sallied back into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Pale and dismayed, we peered forth. At first nothing was distinguishable but one general wreck and ruin, unroofed buildings, prostrate trees and fences, mixed with the debris of broken farming tools and household utensils. My father was not a man to long succumb to misfortune. Proceed- ing to dress, he bade the boys get into their clothes. Our first thought was of the cows. As we stepped out to seek them, we met uncle Thurrell, his son and hired man. They were still too much confused to know the extent of the injury done to their premises, but the barn was partly unroofed, the corn barn tipped over, and the cider mill, a large, [heavy building, had been lifted from its foundation and carried several rods. The cows were safe, crouched together, a frightened group in the field, and two cossets that had been with them in the cow-yard had taken refuge in the barn, the doors of which had been burst open. The horse had been at pasture half a mile away, but as the men and boys went out she came whin- nying towards them. Whether she ran or blew home we never knew, but she evidently had a long story to tell, if it could have been understood.


Nearly half of the roof of our house was gone, and a third of that of the long barn. A large shed had been blown from the end of the barn and flung against the end of the house. The concussion, as this came against the wall, was the cause of my fright as I


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crossed the room with my sister. From seventy to eighty trees laid on the ground. A cart loaded with hay, that had been left the previous evening front of the barn, had entirely disappeared, not a vestige of it was ever seen except- ing one wheel which lay near the back door. Two heavy ox-sleds piled in the yard, had been carried a considerable distance ; barrels, boxes, etc. had been taken from the garret with the roof and scattered about the yard, amongst these was a basket of feathers, which had been set down unharmed by the front door. A brass kettle, that had been hanging by the back door, was found some weeks after, battered and bent, in a swamp a quarter of a mile away. The potatoes were blown from the hills. The shed that had come from the barn had shielded the wood-pile, and the milk-pails at the end of the house were found hanging upon the stakes.


Upon examination it was found that about the same number of trees had been uprooted on uncle Thurrell's place as ours ; the Doles also sustained some injury to their orchard, but their build- ings stood below the track of the hur- ricane. On Ilsley's hill, the barn doors and the back door of the house were unhinged, and the cow-yard fence was thrown down. Jonathan Ilsley, going home from a party, to his surprise, found the cows in the corn field ; as he drove them home, he saw the injury to the premises. Hastening into the house he awoke the family to learn what had happened, but not a soul could tell ; their slumbers had been so sound, the storm had not awakened them.


Farther on, the barn of Mr. Daniel Ordway was entirely demolished. Day- light disclosed a straight line of pros- trate trees, the path of the tornado as


it had passed over Bradford woods, but after leaving Mr. Ordway's, little dam- age was done ; its track was, however, traced to a wharf in Newburyport, where it overturned a small building.


The next morning we learned that a small house, about four miles above us in Bradford had been destroyed, one child killed and the rest of the family injured. The furniture of this house was widely scattered. A bonnet be- longing to the mistress of the place be- ing found in the lower parish of West Newbury, some distance beyond Ord- way's barn. Before sunrise Mr. Ste- phen Noyes from the main road coming over Crane-neck street, on his way to the grist mill at Byfield, to his conster- nation descried the havoc on the top of the hill. Scarcely crediting his sight, he drew rein at Mr. Pillsbury's. The family had just risen ; neither they nor that of their opposite neighbor, Mr. Stephen Little, had been awakened by the tornado. In a body these neigh- bors hastened to our house. At that moment, David Goodrich, a young man residing a quarter of a mile below, rode furiously up the lane. The party that Mr. Ilsley had attended, had been at his house. Dancing had continued till past twelve ; in the merriment no one had heeded the shower, and when the company dispersed the sky was clear, and the moon was shining. Going to the barn in the morning, and chancing to glance up the hill, to his utter amaze- ment and fright, he saw the devasta- tion. Stopping neither for coat nor saddle, he mounted his horse and gal- loped to our aid. The neighborhood, and ere long, the whole town was aroused ; many came from Byfield, and some from Newburyport. Bands were organized, and everybody went to


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work with a will to repair the dam- age. Amongst the first and most zealous, was Mr. Edward Hill. By seven o'clock he came in bearing his tools ; with a perfectly rational air he quietly inspected the buildings, then set to work with an industry which continued until the premises were again in order.


Derricks were rigged, and the process of resetting the apple trees commenced. The hurricane came Wednesday night ; before sunset Saturday evening every tree had been replaced, and the build- ings covered. Nothing remained un- done, but the repairing of fences, and a general setting to rights of small things about the house and grounds. I believe that every one of those trees lived, some presenting rather a crooked and gnarled appearance, but year by year they bore a goodly burden, and several are still standing vigorous and fruitful.


CHAPTER XXVII.


Prior to my birth there had been an exodus of Newbury people to the wilds of New Hampshire ; Littles, Gerrishs, Coffins, Pillsburys, Pearsons and Dodg- es. These settled in the town of Bos- cawen. The Littles established them- selves on a long and high hill, much resembling " Crane-neck in their native town. There is a legend " that the Lit- tles always settled on high ground, and purchased the land that joined them." Not a lovelier spot could have been selected than "Little's Hill." Kear- sarge uprearing its lofty head near by, and the Blackwater meandering in the distance. A tract of land belonging to




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