USA > Massachusetts > Essex County > Newbury > Reminiscences of a nonagenarian > Part 7
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Uncle Samuel Smith had prospered on his Vermont farm. Good buildings had been erected and most of the land cleared and brought under cultivation. His wife's prophecy had been fulfilled. His pleasing address and varied knowl- edge, enlarged by more studious habits than was usual to a person in his posi- tion, had given him a high place in the estimation of his neighbors and towns- folk, and he had been called to fill sit- nations of trust and honor, both in town and county. He usually visited his native place every winter, bringing a sleigh-load of country produce, which was exchanged for dry goods and gro- ceries.
At the end of a bright February af- ternoon we espied Uncle Sam's team wearily dragging the heavily laden sleigh up the lane, and mother began preparations for an extra nice supper, as our relative was somewhat of an ep- icure. After the first greetings and mutual inquiries were over, Uncle Sam passed to religious topics, and much to our surprise we learned that he had be- come interested in the new doctrine of Methodism. An itinerant preacher up- on a tour had stopped at his house and
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claimed hospitality, which had been cordially extended. A clergyman of the strictest Calvinistic proclivities had been recently settled over the congre- gation at Berlin. Unele Sam did not coincide with the new minister, but he was immediately impressed by the
It
views which his guest unfolded.
was near the end of the week, and the missionary was invited to stop over Sunday and preach in the schoolhouse. The news circled through the district and the building was thronged. The people were not united respecting the regular minister, and the stranger pro- duced a marked effect. He was invited to prolong his sojourn ; Uncle Sam and many others became converted, and a church was formed. The preacher had then gone to new spheres of labor, but Unele Sam and others conducted a reg- ular Sunday worship at the school house.
Before returning Uncle Sam gave us a specimen of Methodism in a long and singularly well-worded prayer, deliver- ed in the loudest tones of a powerful but finely modulated voice ; this peti- tion was followed by a good hymn set to one of the enlivening Methodist tunes. Mr. Smith had a remarkable voice and an exquisite ear and taste, and his singing was superb,-I was enchanted by it. Mother liked the hymn, but father shook his head and gravely declared his sorrow : " Sam's head always would be full of some- thing. He had got over dancing and poetry, -now it was preaching, pray- ing and singing. Well, what was born in the bone could not be beat out of the flesh. He never was cut out for a drudging farmer, and he never would be one ; he only hoped he would not let that farm he had got under such
headway go all to rack and ruin." Grandm'am was so deaf that it was difficult to make her comprehend the matter ; but Uncle Sam was too zeal- ous to leave her long unenlightened. This good woman was positively aghast : " Her son, her son Sam, turn- ed Methodist !"
Grandm'am came of a " first fami- ly ;" she was as complete an aristocrat as ever trod in No. 2 shoes. " Some- thing must be done; she could not have any such doings. Why, it was a disgrace to the family, and would bring ruin to himself! He had be- come of some account in that far-away place ; he should not subject himself and his friends to ignominy, and mar his bright prospects. Methodists, why they were ranters, gathered from the lower classes !. Her son had nothing to do with such people. It was pre- posterous !" And the sweet, mild little woman put on all the assumption of authority that she could possibly as- sume, and in the most solemn manner pronounced her ban upon this new spiritual scheme. Aunt Sarah pished and pshawed over the praying and singing, then fidgeted and fussed re- specting the business of selling and buying, declaring that "Brother was so full of his new religion that he couldn't tell a cent from a dollar ;" and when he brought home a dress pattern of black silk for his wife, and a tasty blue silk bonnet for his daughter, she sat down with a hopeless face, folded her hands, and with uplifted eyes, washed her hands of the whole pro- ceedings. "Sam would never be a forehanded farmer, and she really feared he would become clean dis- traught. The Lord wasn't deaf, he needn't holler so at prayer as to make
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the warming-pan ring in the cellar way, or to scare Uncle Thurrel's folks, who couldn't imagine what all that shouting over to Jim Smith's meant. She thought Methody women cut off their hair and made frights of them- selves, but then sister hadn't lost her senses, like her husband, as she knowed, and for all his piety, Sam had too much of the old Adam yet, to let his pretty Sally wear anything but the most be- coming." A thaw came and Uncle Sam's stay was prolonged. The intel- ligence of his embracing Methodism, caused no small stir amongst his rela- tives and acquaintances, and every eve- ning our house was thronged. Some came to hear of the new doctrines from mere curiosity, others from a desire for knowledge, and a few earnestly to com- bat what they deemed a serious error, affecting both the temporal and spiritu- al welfare of the convert. Amongst the most forward and zealous of this class, was Aunt Ruth Little. It was vastly amusing to listen to the war of words, and, it must be confessed, Un- cle Sam proved more than a match for the contestants. Politics also claimed a due share in the conversation. Par- ties were in a furious ferment. "Fed- eralist" and "Democratic" (or Jacob- in, as the party was usually termed) lines were tightly drawn, each display- ing unseemly rancor and bitterness, which had sometimes merged into strife. Father and Uncle Sam were Jacobins, the inajority of the visitors Federalists. Uncle Thurrel was a great politician. In the strongest terms he would de- nounce " that Tom Jefferson ; if he was raised to the presidency there would be a second French revolution ; the nation would find to their sorrer that they had got a second Robertspear to rule over
'em." Robespierre had for a time been Uncle Thurrel's pet bugbear, and his name continued to be brought forward long after he was mouldering in the grave. Aunt Ruth, with characteristic vehemence, would plunge into the dis- cussion. Her face aglow, and her knit- ting needles clicking, she would volubly expatiate upon the unsoundness and ir- reverence of the great Democratic lead- er. "Why, if he was elected president the country would be turned upside down ! Tom Jefferson was no better than Tom Paine. He believed in Vol- taire as much as he did in Christ, and put the Age of Reason afore the Bible. Let him get the reins of government and there would be no more 'Sabba' day ;' the meetin'-'uses would all be shet, and another rein of terror spread over the land."
At the height of his wife's vehemence quiet Uncle John contrived to change the subject, by some timely question or droll remark. Uncle Sam would tune up in one of his lively Methodist hymns, and the company would disperse in all neighborly friendship, though Aunt Ruth never went without a last word of warning and rebuke.
CHAPTER XIV.
A second surprise came to the fam- ily and parish in the engagement of Aunt Susanna Little to her first cousin Robert Adams. This young gentleman had inherited what, at that period, was reckoned a fortune; as he was hand- some and prepossessing, he had been riageable daughters in the most favora- regarded by anxious mammas and mar-
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ble light, and the efforts had not been slight, to win his favor, but young Rob- ert had proved invulnerable. Though he had taken possession of his farm, he had boarded in the family of his cousin Edmund Little, who rented his house, in bachelor content. Now, with- out the least warning, it was announced that Sukey Little had won the prize, that Mr. Adams was making arrange- ments to put up a new house, and the marriage would take place on its com- pletion in the autumn.
The Adams families of Newbury claim to have descended from John Ap Adam, who was summoned to parlia- ment as a Baron of the Realm from 1296 to 1307. He descended from a family in Wales whose record runs back several centuries. The genealogy is as follows :
John Ap Adam - Elizabeth Gourney. Sir John Ap Adam - William Ap Adam - Sir John Ap Adam - Thomas Ap Adam - Jane Inge. Sir John Ap Adam - Miliscent Besylls. Sir John Ap Adam alias Adams - Clara Powell.
Roger Adams - Jane Eliott.
Thomas Adams - Maria Upton. John Adams-Jane Benneleigh. John Adams-Catherine Stebling. John Adams - Margaret Squier.
Richard Adams - Margaret Armager
who had two sons, Robert, who mar- ried Elizabeth Shirland, and William, who married - Barrington. Henry, one of the sons of William, came to New England in 1630, and died in Braintree. He was the ancestor of the presidents John and John Quincy Ad- ams. Robert, the son of Robert, came from Devonshire to Ipswich in 1635, thence to Salem in 1638, and. to Newbury in 1640. His wife, Eleanor, died June 12th, 1677. He died Oct. 12th, 1682. His second wife, Sara, widow of Henry Short, he married
Feb. 6th, 1678. She died Oct. 24th, 1697. Children : Abraham, born 1639 ; Isaac, born 1648 ; Jacob, born April 23, 1649, died in infancy ; another Jacob born Sept. 13th, 1651 ; Hannah, born June 25th, 1650 ; Robert, Elizabeth, Joanna, Mary and John. Abraham Adams, son of Robert married Mary Pettingell, Nov. 16tlı, 1670. Children ; Robert, born May 12, 1674 ; Abraham, born May 2d, 1676 ; Isaac, born Feb. 26th, 1679 ; Sara, born April 15th, 1681 ; Matthew, born May 25th, 1686 ; Israel, born Dec. 25th, 1688 ; Dorothy, born Oct. 25th, 1691 ; Richard, born Nov. 22d, 1693. Matthew, the fourth son of Abraham Adams, born May 25th, 1686, married Sara Knight April 4th, 1707, and was the first physician in what is now West Newbury, where he owned a large tract of land. He died Nov. 15th, 1755, aged 69. He had two sons, Matthew and Abraham, and two daughters ; one married Joseph Bartlett, of the west precinct, the other, Judith, married my great grandfather, Capt. Edmund Little. Their daughter, Eunice, married her kinsman Robert Adams of the "Farms District," who purchased the farm on Crane-neck for- merly owned by my grea-tuncle Wil- liam Smith. Mr. Adams died young leaving this one son Robert. The Ap Adams arms are
ARGENT, ON A CROSS GULES, FIVE MULLETS OR.
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OF A NONAGENARIAN.
Great was the commotion over the engagement. Suddenly several people made the discovery that gentle, quiet Aunt Sukey "was a sly thing, a real artful piece, despite her demure ways ; still waters ran the deepest. They guessed Robert Adams would rue the day he married her, the proud miss, so grand in her airs the ground didn't seem good enough for her to tread on ! No good ever came of such marriages, first cousins were altogether too near." A series of visits were vouchsafed us, which we well understood was for the express purpose of gleaning informa- tion respecting the pros and cons of the affair. Amongst these visitors were two of the old maid Hills. Joseph, Joshua, Nabbie, Lizzie, Nannie and Hannah Hills, resided on a farm on a cross road beyond Meeting House hill. Out of this family, one brother, Mr. Eliphelet Hills, alone had married. Mr. Joseph and Joshua were pleasant, estimable men. In company with mother's uncle, John Merrill (the great grandfather of Ben : Perley Poore), Uncle Josh, for years, took tea with us in the Thanksgiving holidays, when the jolly pair smacked their lips, joking each other about gormandizing over " Prudy's niceties." The sisters were precise, genteel bodies, in their more youthful days attired in the tip of the mode, greatly exciting my admiration as they followed one another up the broad aisle of the meeting-house with silks rustling and plumes waving. Mrs. Liph. Hills (a Miss Sarah Wyman from the vicinity of Boston) was a a milliner. She had a shop in her house on the main road, where she worked at her trade, and kept a variety of wares, and her sisters-in-law were famed for their tasty head gear. They had also
become noted for several little, harm- less idiosynerasies. Some ideas re- specting housekeeping were especially ludicrous. Though the food was bought in common, each brother and sister pro- vided their own tea and coffee, and each had a separate pot. Uncle Joe drank chocolate, Uncle Josh, coffee, Miss Nabby, strong old hyson, Miss Lizzie liked hers weaker, Miss Nannie preferred young hyson, while Miss Hannah never drank anything but Sou- chong. It was exceedingly diverting to see the six small pots, like the " four and twenty white pots all in a row," sizzling on six little mounds of embers before the capacious fire. Vis- itors could take their choice, or have a variety. The girls of the vicinity got a deal of fun, from visiting the maid- ens, and taking a sip all round. On a wild March day, about one o'clock, in the midst of a smart snow squall, I caught a glimpse of Miss Nannie's red cloak whisking round the corner of the house, while Miss Lizzie, a stout, heavy woman, breathlessly toiled in the rear. I ran to admit the visitors, who came laughing in, Miss Nannie inquir- ing, "if I thought they snowed down in the squall?" Having rested and gained their breath, they divested them- selves of cloaks and hoods, informing us as they did so "that they had come early and must go carly ; they should like tea in good season." This was an invariable formula, and had passed into a by-word amongst the lively young people. Having become comfortably ensconced before the fire, their fine company knitting in hand, the stream of talk commenced. Aunt Sarah was able to crow over the others, as she had possessed Robert Adams' confi- dence some weeks before his proposal.
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"She saw no hurt in the young coup- le marrying, although they were near relations. They were wholly dissimi- lar in temperament, and strongly at- tached to each other. The Littles were famous for intermarrying ; she could not see that any hurt had come of it. Take them as a whole they were a pret- ty smart lot." The visitors wisely shook their heads, and as wisely con- cluded that the young couple would take their "ain gate " spite of remarks or remonstrance. The sisters had a deal to tell of the Daltons and Hoop- ers, two distinguished families, owning two elegant country seats on "Pipe Stave Hill." Mr. Dalton, at that time our senator in Congress, was in Wash- ington, but his family were at their town residence, the fine old mansion opposite the Merrimac House in New- buryport. The Hoopers remained through the year in the country. Sev- eral gay sleighing parties had ridden up to the farm during the winter; the spacious residence had been the scene of much convivial festivity. Madam Hooper had also spent some weeks in Boston. A detailed account of the splendor of the wardrobe prepared for this excursion was given and various other on dits of fashionable life, and city and town gossip related. Punctu- ally at four o'clock, tea was on the ta- ble ; the ladies having regaled them- selves, and duly praised the viands, es- pecially the plum cake and the cheese -"Mr. Newell said Prudy Smith's cheese commanded the highest price in the market at the Port"-took their leave in high good humor. Drawing their hoods over their noses, and wrap- ping their thick, red cloaks about them, they declared that they should be "as warm as toast; the wind would drive
them home, and they should get there in grand good season."
A few mornings after this visit, we received a great scare. I went into the garret, and, glancing out of the win- dow, to my amazement and fright, I discerned a dense smoke rising from Mr. Oliver Dole's pasture, at the foot of the hill. I lost no time in hastening down and spreading the alarm. Fath- er, Uncle Enoch, and Uncle Thurrel's folks hurried over to their neighbors. As the wind, which had blown at sun- rise, had increased to a gale, the pro- gress of the flames was eagerly watched. How that pasture came to be burning we could not imagine, but the fire soon spent itself, and the return of the gen- tlemen solved the mystery. The en- closure had grown over to huckleberry bushes ; in the season, people came to pick the berries. Mrs. Dole was a Carlton, from the main road, and she had many visitors. Wagonful after wagonful of women and children would ride over, put the horse in the barn, go into the pasture and fill their baskets with huckleberries, then come back to the house to tea. This, in the busy hay season, was somewhat inconvenient, especially as Mrs. Dole was not a very strong woman. Mr. Dole, though neither a morose nor stingy man, lost his patience, and declared a stop should be put to this "huckleberrying visita- tion." Accordingly, he set fire to his bushes, thinking to totally destroy them ; but, instead, the rising wind sent the flames lightly over the brush- wood, without touching the roots, and the result was a splendid growth of bushes and an abundant quantity of the largest and most luscious fruit. Mrs. Dole and the neighbors had much sport respecting the result of her hus-
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band's destructive efforts. Mrs. Dole said : "Providence did not smile on his inhospitable intent." The children had grown large enough to pick, and the berries were so nice, Mr. Dole mar- keted them at the Port to much advan- tage, besides entertaining the visitors. Owners of old huckleberry pastures could take a hint, and, by copying Mr. Dole's mode of culture, improve what in these days has become quite a desid- cratum in the market.
CHAPTER XV.
One of the great institutions of those days was the spring and fall trainings. There were company musters at the training field on the main road in May and September, and a regimental re- view at the Plains some time in au- tumn. The officers of these militia companies alone wore uniforms, the pri- vates mostly turned out in their Sun- day suits. The musket in those days was fired by a flint, the spark from which lighted the priming in a little ex- ternal pan connected with the interior charge through a small vent. A prim- ing wire about the size of a common knitting needle, and a little brush two inches long, which hung by a brass chain to the belt, were used to keep the vent clear and the pan clean. These training days were the occasion for a general frolic, especially the reviews. General trainings drew a motley crowd, venders of all sorts of wares, mounte- banks and lewd women ; a promis- cuous assemblage, bent upon pleasure. Beyond the lines there was always much carousing and hilarious uproar.
Many customs were then in vogue, now obsolete in military circles, such as fir- ing at the legs of an officer at his ap- pointment to test his courage, and fir- ing a salute before the residence of a new officer at sunrise on the morning of training day. Of course the recipi- ent of these honors was expected to give a treat. Many a poor fellow be- came somewhat "onsteady " before the day had far advanced, and more were hors-du-combat ere it had closed. Ac- cidents often occurred. One officer, from the careless loading of a gun, re- ceived a severe wound in the leg, and Mr. Oliver Pillsbury had several lights in his new house broken at a salute in honor of his attaining a lieutenancy. At this review there was a large caval- ry company, including members from both Newburyport and Newbury. New- buryport had one uniformed company, the artillery. I very well remember how imposing they looked to my childish eyes as they marched onto the muster field at the plains, to the music of fife and drum, with waving flag, and fol- lowed by their field pieces. The regi- mental bands were then unknown. The foot soldiers marched to the fife and drum, the cavalry to the notes of tlie bugle. Colby Rogers was trumpeter for the troops for many years. The Governor and staff and many distin- guished guests were present on the great day I have recalled. A public dinner was given and the festivities were closed by a grand ball in the even- ing.
I was about seven years old when this militia system was organized, and well do I remember the sensation pro- duced by the officers of our company presenting themselves at meeting, the Sunday preceding the fall training, in
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their .new uniforms. Somerby Chase was captain ; Amos Carlton, lieuten- ant ; Paul Bailey, ensign ; John Pea- body, Josiah Hill, Caleb Chase, and Moses Carr, first, second, third and fourth licutenants ; Mr. Bill Hill was brigade quartermaster. Capt. Good- rich, though he had not then attained that title, was an officer in the cavalry, and he came out in the new troopers' uniform, a red coat, buff vest and pants, black leather cap trimmed with bear skin, and a tall, stiff, straight, red plume. This was a splendid sight for our unsophisticated country folks, and I fear little attention was given to the sermon.
The tedium of the summer work was relieved by the cutting, curing and boating the salt hay from the Plum Island marsh. Every farmer then owned more or less of salt meadow ; no one thought of wintering stock without salt hay. Though this brought much heavy labor to both men and women, it was a break in the monotony of the daily round of toil, and for the males, a change of air and scene which my fath- er considered most beneficial.
Our hired help were men from the small hamlet in the woods, beyond the pond, called Dogtown, and good, hon- est, trusty laborers they were. Uncle Burrel was father's chief factotum, but Joe Gould, Amos Pillsbury, Oliver Goodrich and the Rogerses were also employed. The rate of wages was about fifty cents a day and board, through the six working days ; they slept and spent the Sabbath at home. They often preferred to receive their pay in the products of the farm, such as corn, Indian meal, potatoes, pork, and a little butter. This was a mutual convenience, and the best of feelings
and the most friendly terms were al- ways maintained between the employer and the employed. Dogtown was two miles distant from Crane-neck, and, after passing Dole's pond, the road ran through thick woods. This, on some dark and stormy nights, was rather bug-a-booish, and on one occasion old Pillsbury got a terrible scare, from which he never became wholly relieved. We were at breakfast when he entered one morning, looking frightened. and pale. "What is the matter?" was in- stantly queried. The old man lisped slightly : "Oh, Mr. Smith, I see a ter- rible critter in the woods beyant the pond last night."
"A terrible critter, Pillsbury? What was it like ?" father inquired.
"Oh, Mr. Smith, it was a terrible big critter, as big as Brindle's calf ; its eyes were like fire coals, and it ran past me through the bushes, about a rod from the road, with every hair whistling like a bell. It must have been the wolverine."
"The what, Pillsbury ?"
"The wolverine. My old granny used to keep us young 'uns quiet with stories about the wolverine out beyant in the woods. I used to be afcared to stir ten yards from the door o' nights ; but, as I had never seen the critter afore, I had begun to think it was one of granny's stories, but I seed him last night, sartin sure ; and his eyes were like fire coals, and every hair whistled like a bell."
The old man was so sure that he had met some strange animal that the neigh- boring men turned out that night, each armed and equipped for a deadly cn- counter with some ferocious beast, but nothing was found; and, though the quest was continued by the young men
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and boys for several evenings, no strange animal was ever discovered. But old Pillsbury, to his dying day, used to declare there was "a wolverine in them woods, with eyes like coals of fire, and every hair whistling like a bell," and nothing could ever again in- duce the old man to travel the road alone after nightfall.
Father's salt meadow was at Hale's cove. Grandsir Little owned one be- low, in Rowley, and which, as shoe- making was brisk, father cut for sever- al years in addition to his own. The English hay in the barn, the grain reaped and the flax pulled, towards the last of August or the first of Septem- ber, according to the tides, the salt hay season began. Father and the other mowers -these were neighbors, adepts in mowing, to whom the highest wages, a dollar a day, was paid-rode to Old- town bridge; the horse having been stabled in one of the adjacent barns, Plum Island river was crossed in a wherry hired for the day, and the work commenced. There was a sufficiency of hands to cut the grass before sun- set. Having been left to dry for a day or so, another day was devoted to cur- ing it; then came the boating. This was the grand epoch. Nice food was provided for the mowers and rakers, but boating brought a dog-days Thanks- giving baking. Mince pies, plum cake, rich doughnuts, nice meats, baked beans and other tempting viands were packed in a wooden chest, along with a small keg of cider and a bottle of "Santa Cruz" or "Jamaica." Many farmers would have thought it impossible to get a freight without a gallon or more of rum, but father was a temperate man, and careful not to put any temp- tation before those in his employ. The
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