USA > New Hampshire > Sullivan County > Goshen > History of Goshen, New Hampshire : settled, 1769, incorporated, 1791 > Part 26
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Her later works were prepared for the National Temperance Society. A series of dime temperance stories, called the "Fife and Drum Series," were written by her to fill the place of the dime novel, and met with marked success. (The Argus and Spectator, Newport).
Of her work, Wheeler, a contemporary, commented: "Her pro- ductions have been published in Boston and New York, and have had a wide circulation, several of them being prize-works, when she had numerous competitors and in the writing of which she won valuable prizes. She has also written poetry and dramas . . A writer in a recent journal says, 'Her books are in public libraries, and Sabbath-school libraries of all denominations, and are marked by fine imagery, keen sarcasm and moral sentiment and they all bear the impress of the author's finished scholar-
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ship. She is an able writer and a ceaseless toiler in the field of literature; . . proof-sheets are constantly passing between her publishers and herself.'"
The following are some of her more popular works: "Charley Wheeler's Reward," "Deacon Sim's Prayers (took the prize among fifty competitors), "Old Sunapee," "Father Merrill" (prize book), a series of six volumes, entitled "Glimpses of Na- ture," "Out of the Fire," etc., etc.
Miss Emma Rayner was born in Cambridge, England, Feb. 24, 1854, one of the two daughters of Thomas G. and Mahalah (Holmes) Rayner. After being educated in private schools she entered Newnham College of Cambridge University from which in 1888 she was graduated with honors in mathematics, called the mathematical tripos. A condition which had to be fulfilled was not only doing distinguished work on the final two-day examination in math but the writing of an acceptable original Latin poem as well.
Almost immediately she came to America and settled in Bos- ton. In 1895 she joined the staff of The Youth's Companion with which she continued to be associated through 1902. Her home at that time was on Beach Street, Norfolk Downs, Wollas- ton.
In 1902 she purchased the James M. Trow farm at Goshen Four Corners, on the old Bradford road, so-called, and remodeled the house extensively, naming it The Ledges. Presided over by Miss Rayner and her sister Clara, who rejoiced to act as her secretary, a visit to their home furnished a delightful glimpse of old-world graciousness and culture. Both sisters wore their hair in shoulder-length ringlets. Miss Rayner was the author of the following books:
Free to Serve 1900
In Castle and Colony
1899
Visiting the Sin 1900
Doris Kingsley, Child and Colonist 1901
Handicapped Among The Free 1903
The Dilemma of Engeltie
1911
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Miss Rayner was a member of the Société Académique d'Histoire Internationale. She had the distinction of being in- cluded in the first Who's Who In America and all subsequent numbers until her death, which occurred November 20, 1926. She is buried in the Goshen Corners Cemetery which adjoined her home property and which many years before had been dedi- cated to the town as God's Acre.
When the property was sold in May, 1940, by order of the Court, the purchasers were Dr. and Mrs. John Goodwin Hern- don, of Haverford, Pa., who have since spent their summers there. They, unaware of the old name of the tract, called it "Green Ledges," and so it has remained.
Althine F. (Sholes) Lear was born Feb. 12, 1857, into the prosperous farm-home of Hiram and Lois (Dolloff) Sholes. At the age of twelve she suffered a partial paralysis, causing the use of a crutch, and at times a wheelchair, the remainder of her life. Yet, in overcoming her affliction, she supplied to all those about her a sweetness of spirit that was often voiced in poetry.
She was a life-time member of the Goshen Congregational Church, to which she devoted unstinting support. Foremost in all good works concerning the community, she was for many years a member of the library-trustees and, with her husband, was instrumental in providing means for the erection of the library building. She married, May 1, 1901, Orra S. Lear of Goshen, who d. Nov. 16, 1913. She died Jan. 24, 1944; burial in Village cem.
Mrs. Lear contributed many poems to the local press, some of them appearing in journals of wider scope. One of the most popular of these was "By The Sea."
BY THE SEA
She sat alone beside the sea, Mid grim, old rocks and barren sand; Her white hands clasped upon her knee, Her face by salt sea-breezes fanned.
The sky above was cloudless blue,
Save where it flushed with roseate dye,
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Which paled again to sapphire blue, Just where the ocean met the sky.
Upon the far horizon's verge The stately ships sailed slowly past; No sound was heard except the surge Of waters on the pebbles cast.
She watched the swift incoming waves Roll, break and dash upon the stones; It sang of Ocean's mystic caves; She heeded not those thrilling tones.
She only saw the rising tide Come sweeping up, now slow, now fleet, Until its topmost wavelet died In gentle murmurs at her feet.
And then she said, half bitterly, "So rise life's sorrows round my soul; Now slow, now swift, but steadily Approaching nearer to the goal.
"And higher, swifter, yet they come, No will of mine their progress stays, And fragments float upon their foam, The wrecks of happy, vanished days."
And while she mused the waters turned, The tide began to ebb away; While in the west the sunset burned Its incense for the day.
And slowly, surely, slid the tide Adown the shining, sanded floor; "And thus," said she, "my pleasures glide Away from me, to come no more."
And she forgot, as we forget, To look around upon the sand, And see what treasures wait us yet, What joys lie open to our hand.
Oh, blinded eyes which could not see The treasures which the billows brought, Oh, human heart, how oft to thee Thy sorrow is with blessing fraught!
At last she turns her wistful eyes From where the billows foam and curl, When something at her feet she spies, She stoops, to find a lovely pearl.
Upon an oyster's broken shell The white globe lies, a lucent sphere;
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Its story she remembers well, The pearl was once an oyster's tear.
And she recalls how yesternight A fierce storm swept down the shore;
How foamed the billows in their might, How loud the angry breakers roar.
And doubtless in that fearful gale
From Ocean's bed this shell was torn,
And, floating without chart or sail, Its precious freight to her had borne.
Years passed, but yet she always wore
That tiny pin upon her breast; And by and bye, when storms were o'er, She found her pearl of joy and rest.
Sad heart, if pearls are born of tears, If darksome waves bring treasures fair, Take courage, fling away thy fears, And let no storm make thee despair.
Harry Elmore Hurd, Poet
Undoubtedly Goshen's most honored living son, Harry El- more Hurd was born in this town April 23, 1889, son of Ernest H. and Jennie L. (Pike) Hurd. His parents early removed to Lynn, Mass., where he received his education and began his career as a wireless operator. The job took him to far places, and after the First World War he resumed his wandering, drift- ing about the American West as a free-lance writer. During the war he had been chaplain of the 3rd U. S. Engineers in France, receiving the Chaplain's Medal. Eighteen of his years have been spent as minister of Methodist and Congregational churches.
He has published five volumes of poems; Yankee Boundaries (1949); Posessions of a Sky Pilot; Mountains and Molehills; West of East; and (as co-author) Christ in the Breadline.
In addition to his books, his poetry is included in sixty an- thologies and his name is included in all the "Who's Who" publications of the literary world. He holds degrees from Har- vard and Boston University. Mr. Hurd was recently awarded the Golden Rose Award by the New England Poetry Club, which numbers among its membership most of New England's outstand-
Althine F. Lear
Harry Elmore Hurd
Walter R. Nelson
1
Dr. Fred P. Jones
The shade-flecked Village Street, 1930. Olive G. Pettis Memorial Library and World War I Memorial at r .; Town Hall and Hay Scales, center; Community Church and Wiggin house l.
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ing poets from Amy Lowell and Robert Frost to Robert P. Tristam Coffin. This award goes back to ancient provincial France, where it was the annual custom to convene the lead- ing troubadors of France and to award a Golden Rose to the winner . . The Rose, fashioned of pure gold, is encased in a casket upon whose top is engraved the names of the recipients, together with the year of the annual award (Press item).
Several years ago he purchased a neglected Colonial house in Plaistow, N. H., which was built in 1704, and has deeply en- joyed the personal performance of the many chores needful to its restoration. The comment has been made by his publishers, the John Day Company, that after reading Mr. Hurd's poems, no one can doubt that his heart lies with the New Hampshire farm, "He was born on one and he has now returned to his native soil; in the time he can spare from business (he is pur- chasing agent for the Robert Gair Co., Bradford, Mass.) and from writing, he cultivates his gardens, builds walls, and chops his winter wood." He even confides in "Old Ox Driver:"
"Father was a smith Before New Hampshire swapped its oxen For gasoline and blunt-nosed tractors. Sometimes I wish that I had learned How to heat and hammer stubborn metal To fit some special will or need Before my father quit the forge."
Mr. Hurd writes, under date of May 13, 1956, “ . . during my boyhood I spent my vacations at Goshen, with my grand- father Elias W. Pike, helping with the haying and sharing the activities of farm-life. Years later, while a student at Boston University, owing to ill health I spent a winter with my uncle, Harry Pike. Many of my poems about Goshen - Goshen Hill, Country Custom, To be New Hampshire Bred, Boy in an Attic Bedroom, Country School, and When I Hear Cowbells stem back to that experience."
Yankee Boundaries is now on sale in White Mountain shops. In 1926 Mr. Hurd's Mountains and Molehills was in such de- mand that, had the publisher been cooperative, the state of New Hampshire would have acquired the copyright and put out 10,000 copies.
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Latest honor to fall upon the poet's shoulders is the inclusion of his biography in New Hampshire Notables. He is a York Rite Mason and Shriner.
The following selections, largely from Yankee Boundaries, give a taste of the vigor and charm of Mr. Hurd's writing. All rights reserved by the author.
SIGNS AT THE CROSSROADS
These signs upon this slanting post
Point four ways a man may go: As unimpassioned as a ghost, They tell a traveler what he most
Or almost wishes most to know,
Although they never seem to go
To nearby hills or distant coast -
Or anywhere beyond this place.
But still the roads that disappear
Toward towering hills and level sea
Are rutted all the way from here
To where the green-grown hemisphere Curves to meet the quiet lee
Of fluid acres. Can it be That we who travel eagerly From here to there through starry space
Dare trust mute guides who never go To see where they pretend to know?
Reveived National Poetry Center Gold Medal Poetry Award, New York World's Fair, 1940.
COUNTRY SCHOOL
Do you remember District Number Four
With well-stocked woodshed by its ample door And Salamander stove that never quite Warmed cold fingers when they curved to write "Procrastination is the thief of time" Or penned, laboriously some ancient rhyme The white length of the fine-lined copybook?
Knowledge was crystal, like the nearby brook, And quenched the thirst like water from the well Drank from a common dipper - for who could tell When we were young that microbes, dark and grim, Stormed the margin of the dipper's rim? The dull, the bright, the young, the old were there Before the teacher in her straight-backed chair: The lisping child, the boy man-grown with toil, And all the offspring of New England soil. To read, to write, to cypher - these proud three -
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Were second only to the spelling bee But, somehow, from such Halls of Learning came Integrity of life with strength to tame Forest and field and city and gird with law The Land of Promise which their vision saw.
THIS IS MY COUNTRY
This is my country - mine to keep Within my heart until I sleep Too soundly to give heed to song Beyond my window. I belong Within these borders bounded by New England walls and mountain-high Horizons. You who do not know The drifted loveliness of snow Upon these glacial hills deride These pinelands greening to the tide That rose and broke, historically, Against a rock in Plymouth. Key Your laughter to the sterner note Of men, unmusical, who smote On granite with the ancient rod Of Moses - watering the sod With faith abundant for their needs. I love this soil where even weeds Grow beautifully as goldenrod Or chicory, and faith in God Is adamant as are the hills From whose aloofness summer spills
The grace of rain upon the land Where whispering rows of cornstalks stand In fertile valleys. Here my heart Abides. I am an integrant part Of stubborn soil: my roots are here Where man companions with the deer And shares the vesper sparrow's song At silver eventide. I belong To Yankeeland where neighbors are The strong-limbed offspring of a star.
THE MOUNTAINS DO NOT CHANGE
Meeting Nelson* from my native town We talked of Goshen and the things that were, But are no more, and were not written down, And yet nostalgic as a cricket's chirr. Deacon Lear and Doctor Jones are dead, And most of those who knew them now are still,
*Elmer H. Nelson
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Each wrapped in time upon his narrow bed Within the shadows of the grassy hill. "I would return," I said, "but am afraid That no one there would know me, now I'm old. I guess I dread the change the years have made,
For, after sixty, man is not so bold." Nelson drawled: "The mountains do not change, At least not obviously like melting snow."
I knew Mount Sunapee would not seem strange And thought, perhaps, that some day, I would go.
-Harry Elmore Hurd
Emmet Russell
Born in St. Paul, Minnesota, Oct. 8, 1892, son of L. H. and Iola (Brown) Russell, grew up in the Twin Cities, Omaha and Kansas City. He was educated at Harvard College (A.B., 1914), Harvard Law School (LL.B., 1919). A profound experience dur- ing this period turned his course from law to the ministry and he entered Gordon College of Theology and Missions (B.D., 1921), with an earned doctorate from Gordon (S.T.B., 1941).
Dr. Russell has spent most of his life in the pastorate of Bap- tist churches in New England, Illinois and Colorado, and is now pastor of the Union Church, Short Beach, Conn. He has also taught in Nan K'ai University, Tientsin, China, and else- where in the United States. He married the former Amy Dyer of Maine; they have two children, Phillip and Eunice.
While a student at Harvard, he spent his vacations largely in Goshen and has ever since maintained a close association with the town and its people.
In 1922 he shared in the translation of Universities and Scien- tific Life in the U. S. He writes for young folks especially; pub- lished volumes include: Gold of Her Glory, 1951; Lilac Time, and Homespun, 1954.
GOSHEN IN AUGUST, 1916
The August afternoon had spent its heat, The long course of the sun drew near the hills, And yellow clouds already filled the west. Upward between broad fields of tumbled hay, Shut in by walls of rugged rock I past, And ancient gnarled pear and apple trees, Until I looked off to purple Sunapee, Veiled in the golden haze of eventide.
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Ah, long and eagerly I gazed: O earth In bounteous summer drest; New Hampshire hills Checkered with sunlight and shadow even as life 'Twixt joy and sorrow swiftly changing flows! Familiar sounds of reapers far across, A whirr of wheels, and now and then a voice; A glint of scythe beside a stubborn stone, A barnyard cackle, or a wayward cock Perched on some eminence befitting rank. From rocky knoll, among sparse birch and spruce The distant bell I hear, and lowing herd. O peace profounder than cathedral aisles, What if the life be hard, the comforts few; The recompense is grace from day to day Open as all the broad blue sky above, Firm and faithful as the granite hills.
All rights reserved by the author.
CHAPTER XXV Narratives
Nathaniel, the Orphan
TN 1901, "A Life Story," the autobiography of Rev. Nathaniel
Gunnison, was published for private circulation among the members of the family, by one of his sons, Herbert F., publisher of The Brooklyn Daily Eagle. The following extracts are taken from this highly interesting work.
"Let it be understood that I, Nathaniel Gunnison, was born in the Town of Goshen, on the 14th day of February, 1811," it reads. "Have been informed that it was one of the coldest days of the season and that the roads were completely blocked up with snow, so that the whole neighborhood was called out with their oxen and sleds to break the roads.
"My father was one of four brothers who shouldered their axes and marched into the woods, and selected each a farm and settled down for life. My father's name was Nathaniel, his twin brother was named Ephraim, and the two others were Samuel, son of Samuel (1) and Daniel. Three of them, Daniel, Ephraim and Nathaniel, settled in the town of Goshen. Samuel, Jr., settled nearby in the town of Fishersfield, afterward changed to Newbury. Their farms all lay at the foot of Sunapee Mountain and extended nearly to the top of the western ridge.
"My father married Hannah Batchelder, seven children liv- ing to maturity. Both my parents died (April 15, 1813) when I was but two years old. Their disease was the spotted fever. Fourteen others, heads of families, died in the same way and about the same time. My father and mother were of the same age, born in the same hour and died the same hour and were buried in one grave, side by side. Their gravestone may be seen now * * in the North Burying ground in Goshen. Time had effaced the inscription and in 1855 the three remaining bothers reproduced the stones and record so that the old grave wears somewhat the appearance of the present age." (We must intro-
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duce the inscription on the said gravestone, as stating that "He in the 47th year of his age and she in her 46th year." - Author.)
"He died in the prime of life, yet he had cleared up land enough for a large farm, built comfortable buildings and reared orchards and surrounded himself with all the conveniences and luxuries of life. Uncle Daniel was appointed guardian for my youngest sister, Lemira, and myself. How he guarded us I know not, or whether he guarded us at all. My sister, Lemira, found with him a good home, I doubt not, but I was transferred to my sister Sally, who married about the time of the death of my parents, Caleb Gage of Wendell. My recollections of this sister are all pleasant. She was a mother to me, indeed, but her hus- band was passionate.
"When I was about seven years old my brother-in-law sold his farm in Wendell, and in company with some four or five other families, moved to the then far West." (They settled in Canandaigua, New York, after experiences that were tensely dramatic. Here he attended school, and we again pick up his narrative.)
"And thus time passed with me till I was 14 years of age. There were times when my path was exceedingly rough and uphill. I recollect that during one entire winter I had no shoes to my feet and yet, with old stocking feet and rags, such as I could pick up and sew together, I attended school without losing a single day. My bare feet became accustomed to the snow and I suffered but little with the cold.
"It was during this winter that I was selected as the best scholar in the school as a delegate to the public exhibition at the village of Canandaigua. Some friends of education had called a convention and invited every school in the county to send two of their best scholars, to whom prizes were awarded, according to their advancement, etc.
"But here was a difficulty. I had no clothes nor shoes. My sister felt a degree of pride at the election of her ragged little brother and set her wits to work to see what could be done in the way of a fit-out for so important a matter. There was no cloth in the house from which she could construct a pair of
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trousers. As to shoes, I could wear hers and she could get along with my old stocking feet for one day. She finally decided to take off her own red petticoat and make a pair of pants out of that.
"The day arrived and I set out to meet a thousand people and scholars of all ages and grades, with my red pants, which, on account of the scantiness of the petticoat, reached from my waist to the tops of my stockings. But what cared I so long as I stood in my sister's calf shoes and no rags upon my feet. In due season I arrived at the place of meeting and was conducted by my very kind teacher to the seat assigned to me.
"It is true when I heard the village boys sneer at my red pants, and heard them say, 'there goes red breeches,' that a strange feeling came over me. I felt oppressed and mortified, but when I stood up to read and received the kind words of encouragement and praise from the committee, I felt that my scanty garments, red and faded, did not lessen me in their estima- tion.
"And from that day to the present I have never allowed a poor boy to feel embarrassed in my presence on account of his rags, nor have I ever failed to take the part of such when better clad boys have sneered at their appearance. This was the lesson taught me at that time, which has ruled me thus far and ever will."
We might wish that this severe trial had been his last, but more were promptly forthcoming. His sister died and he was returned to New Hampshire, where he dragged through a seri- ous illness. Furthermore, his guardian had made unfortunate investments and Nathaniel's small inheritance was lost. After some time of wandering about among relatives scattered in the edge of New York and Vermont, we find him again in Goshen.
"In the spring I let myself for six months, at $8 per month, with Homer Chase of Unity, who had married my youngest sister, Lemira. I worked my time out, went to school the next winter, and then worked out by the month till the fall of 1830. A number of my mates were going to Hopkinton, N. H., to school to prepare for teaching. I wished to go with them, but
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HISTORY OF GOSHEN, N. H.
had no money nor clothes, and my guardian opposed my going. It would cost money and I ought to save my money and add to it and go to work, etc. However, I wanted an education. I cared not for money. So I determined to go at all hazards. My capital consisted of $4.33, one dollar of which went for transportation, forty miles. * * The remainder all went the first week for my books and so I went through the term penniless, with no means to pay my board and other incidental expenses. I felt disconso- late and discouraged and ready to give up in despair, when the kind preceptor sent for me one day, questioned me upon my future prospects, intentions, etc., and proposed to obtain a school for me. I considered myself incompetent and unqualified, but he urged me to the effort, inspired me with confidence, gave me a letter of introduction and recommendation, and with my books and a bundle of clothes, I set out on a voyage of adven- ture. Found a school in the town of Boscawen and engaged for $12 a month for three months, entered the old rickety school- house and found about thirty young men and women, beside a fair complement of young children.
"Here I reigned with good success three whole months, re- ceived my $36 and returned to Hopkinton, paid off my bills and started on foot forty miles for home, having $7 in my poc- ket. During this spring vacation I took a job of wood cutting for $7 and my board and with this small capital and the dignity of a successful teacher I returned to Hopkinton at the com- mencement of the next term, and again ran in debt for books and board, which I paid by working out six weeks in haying time.
"And thus I continued to attend school, spring and autumn, for four years, paying for my fall term by teaching in the winter, and for my spring term by working out in haying, having all the time not one suit of clothes fit to wear to meeting and never a spare dollar in my pocket. Yet I persevered and conquered, leaving the school with honors and the best recommendation of my preceptor. The best schools were now at my command, and I arose above penury into comparative ease, and, indeed, closed one of my schools with a sufficient sum in my pocket to pur-
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chase a new suit of clothes throughout, hat and boots. And this was the first suit of broadcloth ever seen around and worn by a citizen of Goshen. It produced quite a sensation."
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