USA > New Hampshire > Belknap County > Barnstead > History of Barnstead [N.H.] from its first settlement in 1727 to 1872 > Part 14
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In view of the patriotism, endurance, and self-sacrifice, evinced by such a record, we are vividly reminded of the noble hero referred to in Pope's Homer :
" The gallant man, though slain in fight he be, Yet leaves his country safe, his nation free, Entails a debt on all the grateful state, His own brave friends shall glory in his fate ; His wife live honored, and all his race succeed, And late posterity enjoy the deed."
MARCH OF IMPROVEMENT.
From the landing of the pilgrims to within the last fifty years there had been but little change in the order of things generally, except what the revolution had inaugu- rated. There had been but few inventions and but few improvements. "Old Time" had jogged on as ever before ; taxes were low, the country was becoming populous, peace and prosperity abounded, and there appeared to be no in- clination to diverge from the beaten track of the ancient fathers. Parents and children alike were taught to revere
224
1872
HISTORY OF BARNSTEAD.
their Maker, their Bible, and their minister, and to keep the Sabbath holy. Noah Webster's Spelling-book and a copy of the New Testament were the primitive books, and all that were deemed necessary for the scholar in which to become a good reader.
The old-fashioned school-house, with its large open fire- place, was then thought to be sufficiently commodious for the youths of that day. The simple friction match, now everywhere used, was then unknown. If the fire went out at night, it must be procured at the nearest neighbor's, or obtained from the steel-and flint by casting a spark upon burned tinder, or by flashing fire from the old gun into tow or flax suspended above it, and thus to catch and kindle it. There were no stoves, nothing but the huge fire-place, in which to place a large back-log and back-stick with a fore-stick resting on iron dogs, and the smaller combus- tibles filled in between them. The cooking was done on the fire, the potatoes sometimes being roasted in its em- bers. The baking was in the great brick oven, though occasionally it was done in the old " Dutch-oven " over the fire or in pewter plates in front of it.
The farmer's wood was green, usually unhoused, lying in piles about the doorway. Green wood, though slow to kindle, was preferred to the dry, as it made the hotter fire. At the fireside on a winter's evening groups of children, and often the more aged neighbors, would gather, and en- joying the fire "fair blazing," would amuse themselves with stories and riddles, or otherwise discourse upon the varied incidents of the day.
Among the middle-aged conversation would sometimes take direction to their business affairs, their nice houses and fat oxen, and now and then to the telling of a bear
225
MARCH OF IMPROVEMENT.
1872
story, or perhaps some heroic or tragical event of the revo- lution. Lights for the evenings of that period were usually the old tallow candle, generally home-made, manufactured by the mother of the family, by dipping the wicks into warm tallow, and repeating the process until the candle was of sufficient size for use. No one at that time knew of a better light. The first oil-lamp used was of tin, hold- ing a pint. It had a nozzle like a teapot, from which the wick extended. A pair of snuffers sometimes attended these lights, but they were somewhat rare.
Since then more than a half a century has elapsed, the old spelling book and the capacious fire-place are no more ; the use of the white flint stone from the field and the tin- der, the flint-lock to the gun, the Dutch-oven, the pewter plates, the tallow candle and the oil lamp, are all hence- forth to be reckoned among the things that were. The whirl of the great wheel at the hand of the fair maiden that whistled music like the north wind, and that old linen wheel which operated as playing second fiddle to it, are known only to the experience of old age, consigned as they have been to the flames, or to take places in the attics of the old farm-houses. No more is the homespun fulled- cloth used in clothing the family, nor in these days is the linen or tow cloth manufactured by the busy house-wife. How great the change !
The mammoth mills of modern erection have diverted the industry of the people. The livelihood and economy of the happy homes of former days, by the creation of man- ufacturing towns and by recent inventions, have taken a different channel. The farmer's sons and daughters, lured by the new order of things, have left him to take up their abodes in cities and villages, tending to his discourage-
29
1872
HISTORY OF BARNSTEAD.
226
ment, yet his progress is facilitated by new and improved implements of the workshop and of husbandry, obtained through the artful inventions of the present day. By the invention of the " cotton gin," the power loom, the loco- motive, the telegraph, &c., and by the spirit of enterprise that followed the introduction of them, a new and more progressive life has been inaugurated and is still pro- gressing.
" Anon advance the riper years of art, In which inventions take decisive part, Whence generous genius prosecutes the plan, To overcome the drudgery of man; Makes lifeless things, impelled at his control, To do the duty of a living soul. Hence cotton gins and spinning-jennies fine, Out-run the wooden wheels of olden time. Hence power of steam, applied on sea or land, Expelling labor with a heavy hand, Work startling wonders through mechanic skill, To move the car, the steamboat, or the mill." [ See the Merrimac, by R. B. Caverly, p. 61, 62.]
Indeed how strangely different is our mode of travelling from that of the early times. Instead of the saddle and the pillion which were first in use, and of the old wagon, chaise, gig, and stage coach, which came into use at a later period, the railroad car runs in every direction, affording vast facilities for travel and transportation throughout the land. . To make way for the locomotive, the valleys have been sought, the rivers have been spanned, and the hills have been made low and level.
Perhaps not less strangely different is our present art in painting or taking pictures. Some of us at this day can well remember the old " Profile Taker" as he passed from house to house with his neat little box which con- tained his picture frames, his black paper, &c., and his
227
MARCH OF IMPROVEMENT.
1872
scissors, and with which to take a side view of the face ; and all at the small price of one shilling and sixpence. Yet even that art then was rare, so that nearly all of the first settlers of Barnstead, when they left the world, left to their descendants nothing in the shape of a likeness. But now, through the channel of inventions, daguerreotype and photograph pictures are common to this people as they are to the whole earth. Quite as strange, also, has been the change in the making of garments, shoes, and other articles, facilitated as all this kind of work has been through modern inventions. The number and extent of the New England manufacturers, increased in power and facilitated as they are in the vast productions of their enterprises by numerous successive modern inventions, tend, at all times, to excite wonder and admiration.
The process of manufacturing under modern improve- ments has been briefly described as follows :
"The wheels, 'within the wheel,' with one consent Fly round and round, each on its duty sent; Ten thousand spindles in their places spin, Ten thousand spools fast wind their fibres in, Ten thousand shuttles shoot across the web, Fed by the mules, slow back and forward led : Fast roll the fabrics from the rolling beam, Complete in beauty, true in thread and seam. The sheeting white, the listed broadcloths fine, Neat satinet, and carpets superfine, The gaudy prints and blankets plainer made, For realms remote, for home or foreign trade; Workshops with throngs the vills environ, Magic in power o'er wood, o'er steel and iron; Alive in thought, and helping one another, Onward in handy art advancing further,
Embracing all the works that man can do, Through labor fruitful and inventions new."
[From R. B. Caverly's Merrimac, p. 63.]
228
HISTORY OF BARNSTEAD.
1872
BURIAL OF THE DEAD.
" Hither let luxury lead her loose-robed train, Here flutter pride on purple painted wings, And from the moral prospect learn how vain The wish that sighs for sublunary things."
It was nearly a century after the first settlements before any spot of land was obtained here and designated as a public burying ground. Strange as it may appear, up to that period there seemed but little concern in the minds of our inhabitants upon this subject. While other towns not very far distant were fencing their grave-yards, were con- secrating them, were strewing them with flowers at each return of the spring season, and every year were improv- ing their repositories with shade trees to invite the pilgrim and the sweet songster, how strange it now seems that ours had been so long, so generally delayed.
Up to the year 1850 there had been no public burying ground in Barnstead, its first settlers and their immediate descendants many of them having been left to slumber even to the fourth generation in its fields, pastures, lanes, gardens, orchards, and other isolated places, where the cruel plow in the course of time may or may not invade them. Some are honored with a rude unlettered stone. Some have none, and though there are many who have re- spectable monuments with historic inscriptions, still there are scores whose resting places are lost, never again to be watered by affection's tears, and never more to be traced.
Such a seeming neglect, however, may well be attributed to causes common to a new country, particularly to the hardness of the times, wherein from necessity often times the future had to be burdened with the duties of the pres-
229
BURIAL OF THE DEAD.
1872
ent. At that time a fashion seemed to prevail whereby each farmer was led to believe that some corner in his own field was, of all others, the most appropriate place for his venerated dead.
Of late it has been seen that there is no duty more imperative, and in fact more praise-worthy, than to cherish with becoming decency the memories of those who have been with us and who have left us. It is becoming to a generous people to give their dead a place in the highlands, or in the shady dell, where the cypress and the maple shall cast their shadows, and where the soft sound of the pine tree and the warblings of the wild bird shall be borne on the breeze both at morn and eve ; there let the lily spring up in its beauty, and let the wild-rose bloom there in its fra- grance forever. To such a repository the pilgrim shall come, and here shall we learn the way that "makes glad the city of our God." Here, also, the human heart taking inspiration from the God of nature, shall learn wisdom ; and while it seeks to contemplate the frailties of this life, it shall be led to anticipate with serene delight the tran- scendant glories of that which is to come.
To cherish an affection for departed worth, to place over the dust of dear ones a sprig of acacia, or to adorn the grave with a forget-me-not, ever serves to strengthen the tie between the living and the dead. 'Tis thus the kind mother, the dutiful wife, and the affectionate child, though dead, are called back to commune with us in the chambers of love and in beautiful visions.
Old time, as we have seen, has levelled the turf upon the graves of many of the old fathers, yet they rest in peace.
" The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,
The swallow's twitt'ring from the straw - built shed,
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
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HISTORY OF BARNSTEAD.
1872
" For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy house-wife ply her evening care, No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share."
[ Gray's Elegy.]
At the Parade there was a private burial lot, owned first by John Bunker and afterwards by his son Eli, next by his son Abraham, which still exists in the right of the fifth generation. This ground, as if by common consent of its proprietors, has from time to time been used for burials by a few families for nearly a hundred years. There is now and then a marble slab in it. Being private property, however, it is ever exposed to the liability of being invaded, neglected, discontinued or desecrated. Improvements are progressing. Since 1850 four public cemeteries have been established, one at the Centre, one at North Barnstead, one at Clarktown, and one at the Parade.
In that year a large circle of ladies obtained the means and established the cemetery situated on Lord's Hill, about fifty rods east of the Parade Church, fenced it, divided it into lots, ornamented it with shade trees, and left it alone to await and receive the advancing generations.
All honor to the ladies of that hour ! long life to those of them who still live ! and peace, sweet peace, to the ashes of those who sleep !
Quite a number of the dead from the old grounds have already been taken to the new, where many of the lots have been purchased and ornamented as becomes a gener- ous, pious people.
Soft is the peace of saints, in peace they lie; They rest in silence, but they never die !"
APPENDIX.
BIOGRAPHY.
-
JEREMIAH PEABODY JEWETT, who collected the material and started this history, had been for many years a mem- ber of the New England Genealogical Society. A brief account of his father's family will be found on page 152. They descended from Joseph Jewett, one of the first set- tlers of Rowley, Mass. The father, as we have seen, was one of the first settlers of Barnstead, and died there in 1836. His mother, Temperance (Dodge) Jewett, was a sister to Judith Dodge, the mother of George Peabody, well-known to the world as a banker in London. The mother is still living at the age of a hundred years and upwards.
Dr. Jewett obtained his common school education at his native village, and in 1826-7 attended Phillips Exeter Academy. His principal instructor there was John Adams. Afterwards he read medicine with his father. Then, for a year or two, he was the medical student of Dr. J. Spofford, of Groveland, and in the years 1831-2 he was a student in the medical department of Dartmouth College, under
232
HISTORY OF BARNSTEAD.
1872
the instruction of Messrs. Muzzey and Oliver. He received his diploma there, and in March, 1833, made Lowell his place of residence and practice. He was a Fellow of the Massachusetts Medical Society, and was for a considerable time President of the Medical Society of " The Middlesex District." For many years he was special coroner in the city of Lowell, sometimes represented it in the Massachu- setts legislature, and sometimes in the branches of its own city government.
Mrs. Jewett was Miss Harriett E. Loomis, of Windsor, Connecticut. Their sons and daughters now living are Emma L., Henrietta A., Thomas P., Joseph D., and Alice A., the youngest at the age of five years.
The Doctor's health began to decline in the autumn of 1868. He suffered of dropsy, of which he died June 23, 1870. His funeral was attended on the 27th by a large concourse of people. And then by the " old residents " of his adopted town he was borne away to the banks of the " old Concord," and to a peaceful rest in the shades of the Lowell Cemetery.
Brisk blow, ye bleak winds, bring a song, ' Celestial vespers, sweet and clear, Wave wide ye bending woods along, In love to lay your garlands here !
And you, ye wild birds, often sad, In little songs if not in tears, Forget ye not my honored dead, As wane away the eternal years.
Let lilies fragrant fill the ground, Lovely for age shall live the sod ! For here, indeed, a friend is found, A man, the noblest work of God. June 27, 1870.
R. B. C.
233
OF ITS DEAD.
1872
NECROLOGY.
Through the generous aid of a lady, Mrs. M. H. W., we have obtained quite an elaborate account of the dead of Barnstead. It covers nearly the whole period of the existence of the town, and details to a certain extent the out-goings of its young men and maidens as well as of its old men and matrons ; and while it bears upon its pages the names both of citizens and soldiers, it does not lose sight of its wizards and witches.
The ashes of " Old Peggy " -, are still found to be reposing upon the Drew farm, and old " Aunt Nabby " -, as of yore, sleeps silently beneath a pine tree near the Suncook bridge. Though " witches they were," yet in our faith they at this hour occupy a place as high at the throne of Heaven as the kings and queens of their time.
It is a significant caution to the pride of earth, that at the grave, all are intended to be made equal.
And this is all !- vain wealth may try To rear her monuments on high, In gorgeous grandeur, clever ; But where the balmy woodlands sigh, And the dead are equal far and nigh, Rest-rest is sweeter, never !
The said Peggy in her day, as tradition tells us, was greatly troublesome to her neighbor, that " she prevented his cow, that would not give good milk ;" that "she forbade the cream, and it refused to turn to butter," and the like. Tradition also informs us " that at the same moment when
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234
HISTORY OF BARNSTEAD.
1872
our poor old Nabby was consigned to the earth, a spacious flock of crows flew rapidly over her, and that a tempestu- ous gale of wind followed them."
At this day it is pleasant to know and feel that the credulous years that followed New England witch-craft in its terrible dream, are forever at an end.
Prior to 1803 Barnstead had no record of interments. After this date, up to 1860, in an account kept by Parson George, the number given is 1320. Since then, by a record as kept by Rev. William O. Carr, 282 deaths have been added to the list, which in the whole, as taken, numbers 1602.
In the following table we are mostly confined to those whose ages and dates of death are given :
Date.
Age.
Date.
Age.
1777 Samuel Clark, -
1811 William Nutter, 55
1784
Peter Edgerly,
21
Anna, his widow, in 1813, 53
1795 Samuel Avery, 76
1796
John Pendergast,
15
Hetty Pickering,
Jonathan Bunker,
67
wife of Stephen,
71
Sarah, his widow, in 1825, 96
Betsey, his widow, in 1852, 90
1797
Stephen Pendergast, 68
1812
Samuel Nelson, jr.,
24
Betsey, his widow, in 1836,
99
1814
David Rand, 70
John Tasker,
Thomas Edgerly, 85
1798
Dorothy Edgerly, wife of Samuel, 26
Datharuah, his wife, in 1808, 78
1799 John Clark,
David Drew, 30
Dr. Joseph Adams, 78
1814
Lieut. James Brown, 50 Patience, his widow, in 1828, 52
Molly, his widow, in 1848, 92 40
1815 Mrs. Bunker, mother of Joseph, 106
Hannah, his wife, in 1795,
29
1810 Moses Rand,
70
Hannah, his wife, in 1790, 57
1811 Thomas Emerson,
37
Abigail, his widow, in 1830, 83
Henry Munsey, 75
Samuel Nelson,
73
Mrs. Joseph Bunker, 107
1805 James G. Kaime,
1817
Charles Hodgdon, 75
1804 David Jacobs, 48
Moses Dennett, 57
1872
NECROLOGY.
235
Date.
Age.
Date.
Age.
1817 Nathaniel Tasker, 53
1828
Thomas Penny, 29
Sally, his widow, 1837, 56
Noah Pitman, 23
1819 Thomas Salter, -
Dr. Wm. Walker,
27
Mrs. Salter, his wife,
1829
Samuel Garland, 62
Samuel Gilman, 89
Joseph Hawkins, 83
Daniel Hall, 17
Temperance Nutter, 70
Solomon Hall,
15
Joseph Place, 75
1820 Capt. Ebenezer Ad- ams, 35
Abigail Goodwin, wife of David, 32
1822
James Locke, 38
Esther Nutter, wife of Hatevil,
77
Abigail, his widow, in 1869, - 82
1830
Capt. John Daniels,
35
Benjamin Emerson,
77
Mercy Nutter, wife of Benjamin, 81
Ruth, his wife, 1818, 63
Joseph Bunker, 47
Sarah Jacobs, wife of Isaac,
21
1831
Eleanor Colebath, wife of Dependence, 81
1824
Susan Hall, wife of Benjamin R.
21
Samuel Jacobs, 43
Jonathan Roberts, 55
William Muncy, 86
1825
John Chesley, 83
1832
Ebenezer Adams, 79
John Keniston, 21
Timothy Muncy, 83
Aaron Chesley, 40
Mary, his wife, 1830, 80
Stephen Pickering,
Joseph Bunker, 38
Jonathan Emerson, 76
James Locke, 80
Enoch Clark,
57
Susannah, his wife, in 1811, 39
Samuel Pitman,
89
Sarah, his widow, 88
Wmn. Walker,
73
1826
Jonathan Clark, jr.,
29
Samuel Clark,
32
Thomas Bunker,
95
Deborah, his wife, in 1824,
91
1833
Jonathan Chesley, 90
Mark Walker, 21
John Jacobs,
55
Sarah Bunker, 96
Mercy Jacobs, wife
John B. Parshley, 84
of D. Wiggins, 40
Sarah, his wife, 1823, 77 John Tuttle, 75
Joseph Tasker, 77
Sally, his widow, in 1834, .78
Dolly, his wife, 1825, 73
Stephen Pendergast, 57
Daniel Jacobs, 74
Mrs. Ezekiel Eastman, 91
Margaret, his wife, in 1819, 57
Solomon Munsey, 82
Mrs. M., his wife, 80
Capt. George Chesley, 51
1823
Aaron Chesley, 69
Olive, his wife, 1830, 46
Sarah, his wife, 1810, 68
Mary, his widow, in 1844, 86
Charles J. Hodgdon, 26
Timothy Munsey, 83
Mary, his wife, 1830, 80
Elizabeth, his wid- ow, in 1843, 82
Betsey Towle, 68
Benjamin Nutter, 88
Peletiah Daniels, 63 Mrs. Anna Lyford, 75
1827
Abigail, his widow, in 1839, 74
236
HISTORY OF BARNSTEAD. 1872
Date.
Age.
Date.
Age ·
1833 Nancy Jenkins, wife of Joseph, 40
1834
John Pitman, 102
Edward Avery, 58
Susanna, his widow, in 1835, 95
Dependence Colebath, 90 Simon Dow, 77
Charles G. Sinclair,
41
Abigail, his wife, in 1820, 55
Joanna Kaime, wife of John, 42
Ruth, his second wife, in 1829, 59
Adonijah Keniston,
43
John Judkins, 60
Olive, his widow, in 1872, 79
Abigail, his widow, in 1848, 75
Theodore Willey, 70
Samuel Edgerly,
71
wife of Moses, 70
Betsey, his widow, in 1847, 87
1835
Charles Hodgdón, jr. 61 Temperance, his
Molly Muncy, 89
widow, in 1842, 85
Abigail Pickering, 72
Josiah Snell, 75
1840
Mrs. Noalı Robinson, 65 Timothy Bunker, 41
Anna Dockham, 82
Margaret, his wid- ow, in 1864, 66
1836
Dr. Jeremiah Jewett, 79 Ira Tasker, 37
Major John Nutter, 83
Miss Betsey Meader, 76 John Davis, 56
Betty, his wife, ill 1817, 62
Lyman Hodgdon, 23
Betsey Hodgdon,
George Hop Nutter, 35
wife of Lieut.
Samuel Rand, 60
Richard Sinclair,
78
Mary, his widow, in 1852, 78
Hannah, his wife, in 1840,
69
Dea. Ezekiel Edgerly, 72
Josiah Tehbetts,
56
Mary Hatch, wife of Hosea, 51
Eunice, his widow, in 1867,
82
1837
Aaron Merrill, 62
Ephraim Tebbetts,
86
Abigail, his widow, in 1841,
55
1841
Jonathan Durgin,
69
Joseph Fay,
63
Susan, his widow, in 1855, 82
Olive, his widow, in 1854, 87
Lydia Bachelder, 88
Lois Hoitt, wife of Col. James, 39
John Bunker,
80
John Berry, 59
Polly, his widow, in 1844, 84
Hannah, his widow, in 1864, 88
Paul Edgerly, 82
1838
Wm. Scriggins, 72
1842
Robert Tebbets, Esq., 83 his widow, in 1845, 88
Sally, his wife, in 1811, 41
1838 Wm. Garland, 42
John Dudley, 65
Lois Brown, wife of Robert, 69
1839
Abigail £ Bickford,
Wm. Munsey, 85
Dennis Pendergast, 76
Reuben Sanborn, 63
Jacob B. Locke, 40
Solomon Emerson, 24
1
1872
NECROLOGY.
237
Date. 1842 James Marden, 89
Age.
Date. Age.
1844
Mrs. Aaron Leathers, 83
Samuel Ayers, 80
Eli Bunker,
82
Anna, his wife, 79
Gilman Lougee, 27
Capt. Daniel Bunker, 69
Lovey, his widow, in 1860, 83
John Clark, 76
John Hanscom,
57
Hannah, his widow, in 1852, 68
1845
Dr. Noah J. T. George, 50
Daniel Clark, 45
Nancy, his wife. in 1837, 40
Eben Pitman, 58
Abigail, his widow, in 1856, 61
John Matt. Nutter, 26
Paul Emerson,
21
Peletiah Penny,
85
Mary, his wife, in 1840, 81
John Hill,
59
Dea. Ebenr. Nutter, 87
Temperance, his
wife, in 1829,
70
Daniel Clark, 44
Anthony Nutter,
79
1846
Cyrus F. Garland, 29
Annie, his widow, in 1844, 86
Emily, his widow, in 1850, 27
Dollie Drew, 51
John K. Kaime, 30
Olive Stevens, 60
Capt. Seth Walker,
28
Josiah Shackford, 77
Charles Foster,
48
Abigail, his widow, in 1868,
78
Richard Libby,
28
Albert E. Hodgdon, 25
Rev. Robert Allen, 55
Abigail Rollins, wife of Samuel, 58
Samuel Chesley, 39
John Aikin, 93
Hannah, his wife, in 1843, 84
Mrs. Sarah Durgin, 78
John Nutter, 42
Comfort Chesley, 86
1844
Hannah Rand, sec-
ond wife of Moses, 80
Joseph Hall, 76
Mary, his widow, in 1845, 71
Mary Langley, wife of Joseplı, 79
Wm. Walker, jr.,
58
Betsey, his widow, in 1851, 64
Valentine Chapman, 86 Patience, his wid- ow, in 1845, 70
Abigail Towle, wife of Roby, 33
Prudence Emerson, wife of Eliphalet, 53
Levi Davis, 87
Joseplı P. Nutter, jr. 28 Polly L. Pickering, wife of Joseph, 57
John Hodgdon, 23
David Drew,
84
Martha W., his wid- ow, in 1855, 95
Hannah Drew, wife of James, 43
Samuel Rollins, 75
Deborah, his wid- ow, in 1857, 52
Sally, his widow, in 1857, 62
John Bodge. 81
Mary, his widow, in 1851, 90
Lydia, his widow, in 1859, 86
Samuel Walker,
43
Ruth, his widow, in 1852, 49
1847
1843
238
HISTORY OF BARNSTEAD.
1872
Date. 1848 Moses Bunker, 35
Age.
Date. Age.
1851
Mary Hodgdon, wife of Wm. A., 24
Margaret Wallace,
wife of Capt. Wm. 45
John Bickford, 83
Joanna Snell,
68
Andrew Bunker, 67
Timothy Muncy, 24
Joseph Drew,
46
Abigail Hall, his
widow, in 1872. 62
Richard Collins,
79
Patience, his wife, in 1845, 70
James Langley,
47
Susan, his widow, in 1866,
74
Nancy Pendergast, 84
Joseph S. Ayers, 49
Sally Tuttle, wife of Thomas, 70
Andrew Pickering,
76
Samuel Eaton,
71
1852
Samuel B. Proctor, James B. Peavy, 74
30
Joseph Norris, 80
Hannah, his widow, in 1852, 87
Hannah, his widow, in 1855, 71
Phineas Young,
72
Dolly, his widow, in 1862, 80
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