USA > New Hampshire > Hillsborough County > Hollis > Hollis [N. H.] seventy years ago > Part 2
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and beans or other vegetables, and generous slices of brown bread, and pumpkin or apple pie. How toothsome the relish of apple sauce, rich and spicy, made by the barrel every au- tumn and set away up stairs to freeze and keep all the year round. How comforting the bright glow of the blazing logs in the great fire-place in the long winter evenings, when the wind howled without and the snow piled in great drifts against door and window. Sometimes we had no other light, for lamps and candles were costly. Our candles were made at home of unsavory tallow by the tedious process of "dipping." Later came lamps in which we burned the smoky whale oil. More agreeable than either were the candles which my mother made by mixing with the tallow the pale green, half-transparent wax of the bayberry, and which gave out a pleasant, spicy odor. When candles were burned the frequent and regular "snuffing" of the same was a necessary atten- tion, and the "snuffers and tray" were as indis- pensable as candlesticks themselves. I remem- ber that at our school-house conference meet- ings on Sabbath evenings it was always one
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man's special and particular business to snuff the candles.
Out of our kitchen opened the "scullery" and out of that the "buttery." Here were ap- pliances for making the butter and cheese from the milk of our two cows, which my mother sold in the village. On the ground floor were also two bedrooms and a best room or parlor. The last was sacred to "company." It was the only room which boasted a carpet. Here was a fire-place of finer finish than that in the kitchen, with brass andirons and furni- ture, and brass candlesticks on the shelf. Here was my mother's best bureau, the best table, and what we always called the "best chairs"- only flag-bottomed but better made and finer than the others in the house. I remember that the bed in the spare bed-room had linen sheets and "pillow-biers," home-made, indeed, but choice, smooth and white. The other beds were supplied with cotton sheets for summer and flannel for winter. Our own flocks of geese gave us the filling for our plump feather beds, bolsters and pillows, and of their quills we made our own pens. Every schoolmaster must
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of necessity be a good pen-maker, for a part of his daily work was the making of the pens for his pupils, and his "pen-knife" must never be missing.
To rear a family upon a Hollis farm was a work of infinite toil and pains. With all the economy and industry of the time it could hardly be done without some other source of income than the soil. Nearly every farm had its cooper shop. Barrels and kegs were ready cash in Boston; so the long, dark mornings and evenings of the long northern winter found the farmer busy in his shop, working by the light of his blazing shavings. Many a stormy day, when work outside was impossible, was passed there also, and the proceeds of the unremitting labor went for family necessities and comforts; for books and school and college bills, which could not else have been met.
From the earliest settlement of the town there was an enthusiasm for education. It is said that during the first hundred years of its existence, no other town of its size could boast so many college graduates. In all the profes- sions educated Hollis men were to be found
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filling high positions with honor. Forty of them entered the most honorable calling of the ministry, during that first hundred years.
How little is known at the present day of such close economy as was the common prac- tice in Hollis in my boyhood! How plain and simple was our life; yet how healthy and happy it was. The one luxury which Hollis parents craved was education for their children. For that they toiled and saved with heroic self- denial. Often the work and study of a whole evening went on by the light of pine knots, blazing in the great kitchen fire-place, thus saving the cost of even a poor tallow candle.
Many sorts of work were then done at home which have since been given over to the shop and the factory. There was plenty of occupa- tion even for the smaller children, and the great variety of labor kept us always interested and content. Besides the regular work upon the farm there were many things for us boys to do. The providing of fuel for the long winters took many busy days. We made our own brooms, but there was no broom-corn; the coarser brooms were of the tough twigs of the hem-
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lock, and the finer of the stripped up fibers of smooth birch wood. There were the sheep to wash and to shear, the grain to thrash and carry to mill. We all worked, but for the house- mother there seemed to be never any rest. As I look back it is astonishing to me to recall how much the good mothers of that time were able to accomplish for their large families. There was not a cooking stove in town. All the cooking was done over the open fire or in the. great brick oven; but what wonderfully good cooking it was! Our clothing grew in our little flax field and upon the backs of the sheep which picked their scanty living among the rocks of the upland pastures. The wool was clipped and picked and oiled at home. It was then sent to the carding machine, but the soft, white rolls were brought back to be spun by the mother and girls upon the buzzing wheel. Then it was woven in the great looms found in almost every home. For the dyeing and dress- ing and pressing the cloth went to the mill, but came back once more to the home to be made into garments large and small for the boys and girls. I can never forget those hard,
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busy days for my mother. There were eleven of us children. I remember how the tailoress would come and cut such piles and piles of garments, and then mother would sew and sew, day after day, and at night long after the chil- dren were asleep. She gave her life for us. I did not understand it then as I do now. She had early taken to herself the Abrahamic cove- nant, and her faith never failed. Sometimes when very weary with her labors, and while the shining needle flew swiftly, I would hear her sing softly to herself, "My soul, be on thy guard." My mother's life and history were those of many of the good mothers of Hollis. What the wise man said long ago of the virtu- ous woman, might have been truly said of any one of them, "She seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She riseth also while it is yet night and giveth meat to her household. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all."
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IV.
Those who have for many years wandered from the home of their childhood, will on their return wish to visit first the spot where father and mother lived, next the meeting-house with all its sacred associations, then the school-house with its varied remembrances.
My Hollis home was in Beaver Brook school district. At five years of age I began my edu- cation in the modest school building some thir- ty or forty rods west of the bridge, on a little sandy plain well surrounded by hills and the Ratmatat Mountain.
I remember the house well as I first saw it; the outside was very plain; the entrance door was in the south-west corner, a large fire-place in the north-west corner. There were rows of seats running the length of the south side for the boys, and other seats running the length of the east side for the girls; these seats were graded in height to accommodate children from the little tot to the largest scholar.
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Beaver Brook school district then contained about twelve or thirteen families, with scarcely a home destitute of children. People in those days believed in children, and most tables were surrounded by little olive plants.
I have been asked since I became an old man, if I could remember all the families in the dis- trict at that time. My answer is, yes, and I can name nearly all the scholars.
At the east end, from the home of Isaac Far- ley, there were eight scholars-Amos, Sarah, Mary, Alonzo, Adolphus, Henry, and Clarissa Farley, and Mary Ann Brooks.
A little west and up the lane lived Abner B. Little, where were thirteen children. Two died early, while eleven graduated from the school -Mary, Catherine, Elizabeth, William, Caleb, Henry G., Ruth, Laura Ann, Caroline, Augus- tus and Sarah Francis. Of these eleven, eight are now ( 1891 ) living; their united ages amount to six hundred and three years, an average of over seventy-five years.
John Woods, then living with his mother, Mrs. Stevens, came to this school. In the same house were Uriah and Harriet Reed,
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children of Uriah Reed, who was drowned in Wright's Pond. Later W. G. Brown camc to the school from that home.
At the top of Proctor Hill lived Aaron Proc- tor with his interesting flock of, I should say, six or seven children. Three were my school- mates, Moses, Aaron, and a sister. This fam- ily moved to Ohio in 1821 or '22.
From the home of Captain Thomas Proctor, three-James, Luther, and, I think, a sister, were in school at this time. Thomas, John, Susan and Mary attended later. Mrs. Proctor was a superior woman, beautiful in person and character, and she imparted to her children of her own brightness and native ability.
At Eleazer Pierce's we find two boys, one called "Nat."
At Richard Clough's, Cyrus was the only child.
At Nathaniel Proctor's were Olive, Indiana, Moses, Ira, and Maria.
Nathaniel Pierce lived where Mr. Austin late- ly resided.
Down the lane north, we find Mr. Benjamin Abbott and his son Abial.
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Next was Benjamin Austin. I have heard it said that his children numbered well into the teens. Those attending school were Benja- min, Stephen, Luther, Jefferson, Daniel, Chris- topher, Page, Noah, Mary, and Sally Rideout.
On the wood road and near Rocky Pond, we find Gaius Wright's home. A son, Gaius, Jr., and a daughter were in school.
At Nathan Colburn's were four scholars- Erie, Lydia, Moses, and Lucinda .- Deacon E. J. was not in trousers yet.
Last, down under the hill, we find Stephen Lund, with children named Rachel, Alice, So- phronia, Irene, Martha, Danforth, and Noah- diah.
A friend now living in Massachusetts re- minds me of several more children in our dis- trict, making in all seventy or more where there are now but three.
We had eight weeks' school in the winter, taught by the "Master," at twelve dollars per month; and twelve in the summer, taught by the "Schoolma'am," at one dollar and a quar- ter a week, the teacher always "boarding round."
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We had many good teachers who afterwards became prominent men and women. I recall among these Frederick Worcester and an older brother, Caroline Holden, and Sarah Thayer, the latter of whom married the Hon. George S. Boutwell, who was later Governor of Massa- chusetts, a member of Congress, and Secretary of the Treasury under Grant. As I remember the teachers, all were good with one exception. This was a lady from another town, who was short and not remarkable for beauty. If she had any ability as a teacher, neither parents nor scholars appreciated it; if she accomplish- ed any good, it must have been in the aid she gave in clearing the brush patch near by. We boys seldom failed, forenoon and afternoon, to know just how the brush felt when well applied. On giving out a lesson she used no judgment, and would add, "I will whip you if you don't get it!" We usually got it-the whipping. The general rule that a whipping at school must be followed by a whipping at home, made it pretty hard on some of us. I believe "Chris." Austin and I used to get the most frequent whippings. The brook near the school-house was a con-
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stant delight, and we barefoot children took to it as naturally as a duck to water. The edict went forth from this teacher that should any child get his clothes wet while wading in the brook, he should be whipped, notwithstanding the whole summer wearing-gear of a boy was not worth forty cents, and I never could under- stand what difference it made to her whether our clothes were wet or not. Beautiful pond lilies grew a little north of the bridge, in the meadow now owned by Mrs. John Perkins. One day I worked hard at noon to gather some
of these lilies for my mother. My trousers were rolled clear to my body to keep them dry; I had gathered more than forty of the fragrant flowers, and was about to leave, but tempted by one larger than the rest, I waded out just a lit- tle further, when suddenly down went one foot into a hole, wetting the whole roll. What could I do? Could I buy her off? I'll try! I car- ried all the flowers designed for my mother to this woman. She took them, gave them one sniff, saw my wet trousers, and then whipped me until she wakened within me a little demon of whose existence I had before been ignorant.
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I realized the injustice then, even as now. When my own little ones have been on my knee and begged for a story, I have told them this one. They have all cried over it, and one of my little grandchildren, Thomas Stoddard Holyoke, pityingly asked, "Is your back well yet, grandpa?"
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V. .
Earnest and industrious as was our life, it was not without its sports and pleasures. Each circling year brought its holidays. Our Inde- pendence Day lacked, no doubt, the ceaseless pop of the fire-cracker and the hiss of the rock- et, but the effervescence of patriotism was no less genuine than now, and possibly children had then a clearer understanding of the mean- ing of the day, being nearer to the original "Fourth of July." I wonder how many besides myself remember a certain Fourth when we had a variation from the usual program in a representation of Indian life. Some forty of the best young men furnished the entertain- ment. Very early in the morning, the Indian war-hoop was heard in the streets, and down through the midst of the town streamed a wild and savage procession of red men in war paint and feathers and such other aboriginal gar- ments as sufficed to make the staid citizens
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wonder whether a remnant of the extinct Pe- quots had not returned from their happy hunt- ing-grounds to avenge their wrongs upon these descendants of the Puritans. Until noon, the well-simulated savages ranged through the vil- lage, over the hills and through the woods. There seemed to be a thousand of them. Their wild cries startled you from every side. Turn where you would, their tomahawks flashed be- fore you. But by twelve o'clock they all were willing to suspend the sport for an hour, and they gathered for dinner in my father's barn, where a whole lamb had been roasted for them. Dinner over, the Indian Chief,-who was the late Hon. John N. Worcester, and well he act- ed his part-called the roll of his warriors, giv- ing to each his Indian name, some of which are in my memory yet. I can hear him rattle them glibly off-"Eane, Teane, Lathery, Toth- ery, Feathery, Dick, Eanedick, Teandick," etc., etc. Again the tribe descended upon the vil- lage and wood. They must have run forty miles that day, for the fun lasted till night. I have seen the Sioux and many other Indian tribes in the West, and I am prepared to say that those
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Hollis boys gave us a very fair presentation of Indian character and manners.
Election day, I remember mainly for that glazed election cake, tempting and toothsome, which we got on no other day, and of which we never got enough.
Thanksgiving day marked the beginning of the long winter, when the keen zest for winter sports was fresh upon us, and when cellar and store-room were filled with the fruits of our summer toil. All the riches of this fertile west could hardly spread a more bounteous or more delicious Thanksgiving dinner than those which we enjoyed. Neither turkey nor pud- ding nor mince pie was wanting, and there was no lack of apples and nuts and cider for the evening. In the evening, too, there was always a merry party at our own house or elsewhere; sometimes a romping company of children made the house ring with the noise of their games and laughter; sometimes the fun was shared by the older members of the families represented.
But the greatest days of the year, eagerly anticipated by all the boys-and I am inclined
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to think by the men, too, for they were all on hand-were Training days.
I never knew much of the military laws of New Hampshire, but in my childhood they cer- tainly required all able-bodied men between, perhaps, the ages of eighteen and forty-five years, to go through certain military exercises every fall and spring. This was called train- ing, and the two annual training days were times of absorbing interest. Each soldier must be equipped with gun, cartridge box, knapsack and canteen. The companies elected their own officers, and R. E. Tenney, Jeremiah Dow and William Emerson were among the captains whom I remember. With what stern and sol- dier-like precision did the officers put their men through the prescribed evolutions. How they emulated the glory of the King of France, who, "with twenty thousand men marched up the hill," and then, "with twenty thousand men marched down the hill, and ne'er went up again." What daring charges one company made upon another in those magnificent mock battles! How war-like, how valorous we boys felt as we looked on! There was one indepen-
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dent military company, finely uniformed and officered, in which Hollis people took especial pride. I remember just how the large letters, "H. S. G.", looked on their knapsacks. They were the "Hollis Stark Grenadiers," named in honor of glorious General Stark of revolution- ary fame, a son of New Hampshire of whom she has not yet ceased to be proud.
One small artillery company of boys about twelve years old, was organized, in which I had the honor to be a private; Ed. Messer was our captain. We had a good brass cannon and were fairly well uniformed. We drilled with the others, and the three or four companies covered the common and stretched well up on High Street besides.
The regular companies had their own halls well supplied with liquors, to which their mem- bers repaired several times a day to quench their thirst. Our little artillery company had made no such provision. But I recall one oc- casion when we had attracted some notice for our drill, and had received a good deal of praise, whether deserved or not. When the other companies adjourned for drink, we were
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invited to a chamber at Mr. Gould's, well-fur- nished with liquors by some of the best men in the town. Among them were "Squire" Pool, R. E. Tenney and Col. William Emerson.
One of our military companies was known as the "Old String Bean Company," named, probably, from the grotesqne fashion in which the members arrayed themselves on training days. Col. Wm. Emerson was a member of this company, and from its ranks, he had risen by steady promotion for superior merit, until he had reached that pinnacle of glory and honor, the post of Colonel in the State Militia, and had become the great military man of Hollis. He was not a man of commanding stature. In fact he was rather short, but you never would have guessed it on training day. What a magnificent figure he made in his fine uniform, his chest well padded, his erect form sitting well upon his spirited steed! He was proud of his position; Hollis people were very proud of him, and Robin, the beautiful sorrel horse he rode, seemed proudest of them all.
Military maneuvers were not the only amuse- ment of training days. There were various
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sports participated in by those not in battle array, wrestling being, perhaps, the principal one. There were peddlers of various enticing wares, auctioning off their goods, and there was always the baker's cart dispensing delicious squares of golden-brown gingerbread.
Besides the local, village gatherings for mili- tary drill, there were larger assemblies of the militia, where the various companies from the whole county came together and vied with each other in perfection of equipment and precision of movement. These occasions were called Muster days, and for our county the mustering took place in Nashua or some other large town.
The apple parings and the corn-huskings which every autumn gave opportunity for com- bining work and play in merry and industrious fashion, were events to be remembered. I re- call nothing among all the quaint and curious customs of those days more picturesque than the husking-bees in the big barns, where lively groups of men and maidens gathered on dark November evenings by the light of many glim- mering lanterns, and made jolly fun of the task of stripping the wrappings of dusky gold from
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the harvested maize. When the work was done and the glowing heaps of amber and crimson ears gave evidence that sport had not outvied labor, there was always the hearty late supper in the kitchen before the huskers scattered to their homes.
It would be a grim sort of humor which should count the New England Fast Day among holi- days and amusements; but I mention it here as one of the anniversaries which in its regular recurrence helped in its characteristic way to vary the simple round of our quiet lives. It came in the spring-always in April, I believe -and all citizens were expected to mortify the flesh by strict abstinence, and to assemble in the meeting-house, that they might humble themselves before Almighty God and seek by sincere penitence and true heartiness of wor- ship to appease or forestall His just and right- eous wrath. To my childish recollection fast days were days of hungry weariness and gloom.
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VI.
I have known much of life in many towns in different states, and I can say, upon the whole, that in none have I ever known more morality, good order, and genuine Christian uprightness, than were to be found in the Hollis of seventy years ago. This high tone in the community I believe to have been due mainly to the noble influence of good Pastor Emerson and his successor, Mr. Smith, seconded as they were in all their efforts by the multitude of worthy citizens who loyally stood by them, al- ways for the right. And yet there were, even in Hollis, men, women and children upon whom angels' wings had not begun to sprout. There were those who habitually broke nearly all the commands written by God's own finger upon the tables of stone; those who gave loose rein to that little unruly member which is set on fire of hell, and too often stirred up enmity and strife; and a few only in whom floods of "fire- water" had almost quenched the human, and
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transformed them into devils. There was even now and then one of honorable position and respectable calling who dishonored both, and brought reproach upon himself, his church, and his town. If there is a dark side to my memories of early life, as a faithful chroni- cler, I should not leave it wholly out.
For an incident in illustration, I will tell a story of a certain man of the town who had been appointed to the responsible post of tith- ing-man and who sometimes made shoes. As a parish officer his duties required him to pre- serve order during divine service and to enforce the proper observance of the Sabbath in ac- cordance with the laws of the state. Travel- ling on Sunday was forbidden by law, and tith- ing-men were required to arrest any person found violating that law. Now our shoemaker, while bound by his official character to see to it that others observed the holy day, seemed to regard himself as exempt from the require- ments of God's fourth and longest command- ment. At all events, he was accustomed to spend what spare time remained on Sunday after the performance of his religious duties,
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in working at his bench in the shoe shop. Chancing to glance from his window while thus employed one sacred Sabbath afternoon, his eye fell upon a wicked sinner breaking the holy law of God and man by Sunday travelling. A holy horror stirred within him; his lap-stone fell to the floor and forth he rushed, in shirt- sleeves and leather apron, to seize the offender. But finding the man to be a vender of lasts, the business spirit returned so powerfully upon him that he speedily struck a bargain for a quantity of the wares and bade the Sabbath- breaker pass on.
In the days of which I write, there were few who questioned the propriety of a moderate use of intoxicating drinks. By most people they were regarded as a necessity, and only ex- cessive indulgence was condemned. Liquors invariably appeared on all special occasions of a social nature or of unusual effort. What New Hampshire boy can ever forget the terrible snow-storms which in places filled the roads full to the top of the fences, and, but for the hills and forests to break the force of the wind, would have equalled a prairie blizzard. When
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