USA > New Hampshire > Hillsborough County > Hollis > Hollis [N. H.] seventy years ago > Part 6
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great executive ability. Sophia became the successful head of a state institution at Troy,
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N. Y. The machinery of the large boarding house in Lowell, Mass., over which Abigail pre- sided, ran like clock-work. Sarah, the oldest daughter, married Jeremiah Dow, in 1818, and on her husband's death, in 1876, Mrs. Dow, hav- ing inherited her ancestral home as the only remaining member of her father's family, re- turned there to reside.
Not far away stood the pleasant house where Joel Hardy spent most of his married life, and where most of his children were born, and whence he was borne to his burial. But I knew Mr. Hardy several years before he occupied this home, when he bought the Aaron Proctor farm, in 1823, and brought thither his young bride, Eliza Johnson. I remember the eager interest with which we children watched for the carriages conveying the bridal party to pass our lane on the wedding day, and what an ele- gant affair we thought it as the procession of friends and neighbors filed by, escorting the young couple from Pine Hill to their new home.
Joel Hardy came of good, fighting, Revolu- tionary stock, and himself early became captain of a military company. He was one of seven
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sons, all but one endowed with good Scripture names: Jesse, Joel, Amos, Eli, Luther, Phineas and Daniel. I rather admire the spirit which placed Luther among the Bible saints and prophets as quite worthy a place in the list. Later J shall have occasion to speak of others of these seven brothers, but now I return to Joel. When only a boy of eleven I worked for him at dropping corn and other farm labors, and I then had an opportunity to become ac- quainted with both Mr. and Mrs. Hardy. As we worked in the field together-the man of position and influence, and the boy just begin- ning to open his curious eyes in eager question- ing as to what the future might hold for him- we talked together, and many an interesting thought dropped into that immature mind abides to-day.
From the earliest settlement of the town, the road to the top of Proctor Hill had followed the hard, steep grade up the hillside. Ii waited for the observant eye of Joel Hardy to see that by curving north, an easy ascent could be made. By his energy, influence and labor the road was changed, while all wondered that they
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should have travelled the old, steep way so long.
About this time I heard the Rev. Mr. Smith read from the pulpit a notice like this: "Joel Hardy and his wife desire to return thanks to God for recent favors." Whether the occasion for the thanksgiving was the arrival of Rodney J., or his oldest sister, I am not quite sure. The old custom of giving public thanks from the pulpit for favors of that sort was not continued in Hollis for many years longer. When Rev. David Perry came to be pastor of the church, he declined to read such notices, believing it better that the thanks should be offered in pri- vate. After Mr. Hardy left the farm and set- tled in the home which he occupied for the re- mainder of his life, he carried on coopering for a time, and afterwards turned his attention to cattle dealing, a business which he continued to follow while he lived. Mr. and Mrs. Hardy reared a large and worthy family. The four boys, having acquired a good business educá- tion, early left home to make their own way, and some of the daughters became fine teachers. Squire Mark Farley complimented, as it seemed
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to me, both parents and children, when he said on one occasion, "I love to see the Hollis chil- dren come home. Especially do I love to see the children of Joel Hardy and Ralph E. Ten- ney come home." During the past year I have seen a goodly number of the children and grandchildren of Joel Hardy, and can testify that the stock is not running out, that the later generations are better educated than their an- cestors, and equally enterprising. I speak from a knowledge of four generations of the family. It has been my happiness twice in less than two years to visit in the family of Rodney J., one of the sons of Joel Hardy, where I have been delighted to notice the intelligence and culture of the large family of children, presided over, I may be permitted to add, by their mother, who was one of the Hollis Tenney girls.
North of Dr. Eastman lived Mr. David Hale, already in my boyhood an old man. He was born in Hollis, and there reared his large family of boys and girls. John was a great ma- chinist and made many valuable inventions. I believe that the cider mill and press invented by him before 1830 have never been surpassed
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by any later inventions. All of the large fam- ily have now passed from my knowledge ex- cept the two youngest sons.
It was a good citizen and a fine mechanic who occupied the modest home a little to the west of Mr. Hale's. Captain Benjamin Farley had bought it and fitted it neatly up, and there he spent his after life. He had a very interest ing family, but it is sad to learn that only one of the number remains. I had the pleasure of meeting that one last summer in the person of Mrs. Jefferson Farley (Captain Benjamin Far- ley's daughter, Charlotte, ) and I am glad to acknowledge here the many kindnesses re- ceived from herself and her husband while a guest in their pleasant home during my stay in Hollis.
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XIV.
Very near my old home, and not far to the west from Dr. Eastman's towards the Proctor Hill, lived Mr. Stephen Farley. Born in 1753, I recollect him only as an old man, one of the placid, quiet, genuine, good men. Most of his eight children lived to adult age, but all except the gentle, frail Joanna had left the parental home, and the wife and mother had gone to her grave.
Stephen Farley, Jr., the eldest son, was a graduate of Dartmouth College, a fine scholar, and an able preacher. Isaac became a deacon in the Hollis church in 1832. In the father and the invalid daughter, not yet thirty years old, I took great interest when I first knew the family, more than seventy years ago. I cannot remember having ever seen Joanna, except up- on her bed or in a large rocking-chair, but the pale, sweet, loving face always drew me toward her, and her gentle, unselfish life, so full of thought for others, so forgetful of her
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own suffering, has been my admiration ever since. Child as I was then, I still remember the pleasure I used to take in my visits to the lovely invalid and the dear, little, old man. He was bowed with age and racked with asthma, but always gentle and kind, with a cheery wel- come for the boy. Mr. Farley owned a fairly good farm where he had long resided, but his desire for rest in his old age and relief from care, led him to do what is seldom wise for anyone. He made the property all over to a son-in-law, Captain Hubbard, reserving only a life lease of a little piece of land of three or four acres south of the road, and the eastern part of the house, with the condition that his daughter Joanna and himself should be pro- vided for during their lives. It seemed for a time that the desired rest and ease had been secured by the plan. Mrs. Hubbard cared kindly for her father and sister. But a change was made. Another person bought the farm, assuming the obligations imposed upon Cap- tain Hubbard, and disappointment and sorrow were henceforth the lot of the two dependent ones. Neglect and unkindness on the part of
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some, took the place of affectionate care. Still the old man made no complaint, but worked his few acres of land, and did what he could for his sick child. But they were made to feel, more and more keenly, that they were an in- cumbrance, and their life grew harder and sadder, day by day. I have seen the tears course down the poor old man's face, as he spoke of his changed circumstances. Even the paper which secured him the life use of his small piece of reserved land, mysteriously dis- appeared after a time, and others possessed themselves of the land, but he uttered no harsh words of blame. The frail form could no longer hold the beautiful, chastened spirit of Joanna, and the forsaken tenement was laid in the grave, while the free spirit soared upward, and Joanna was no longer an incumbrance.
The old man lived on alone in the east room of his house. How often have I seen him there, reading over and over, the one beloved book, the old family Bible, and have heard him pray, standing with his hands upon the back of a chair. Did he sometimes hear, I have won- dered, that voice which said to such as he,
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"Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest?" Did the dim and weary eyes rest with longing upon the words which pictured the home toward which he journeyed? "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." In his old age of loneliness and poverty, did he find heavenly comfort as he read, "In my Father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you!" And again, "He hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father." Did he turn from thoughts of his worn and thread-bare clothing to visions of the glorified raiment of the redeemed? Of the great multitude stand- ing before the throne, and the Lamb clothed in white robes, with palms in their hands? Sitting lonely, in the darkness of night, struggling with his old enemy, the asthma, for the breath of earthly life, was he not cheered to think how near must be the green fields and the pure sweet air of heaven? Perhaps he said over and over to himself words of Holy Writ made fa- miliar with his daily readings, "And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle,
.
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neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light." "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more;" "And they shall see his face, and his name shall be in their fore- heads." Shrinking, as timid mortals do, from the crossing of the dread river separating the gloom and sorrow here from the brightness and gladness on the other side, was he not strengthened as he thought, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." Then how he must have rested upon the promise of God and walked fearlessly on, saying, "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, that they may rest from their labors, and their works do follow them."
He lived on his patient life till that cold Jan- uary in 1837, having ever before him the vision of the city which hath foundations, where the building of the wall of it was of jasper; and the city was of pure gold like unto clear glass. Joyfully he greeted the summons to enter there, where he was no more an incumbrance. And they took up Stephen and carried him to his burial; and the weary traveler was at rest.
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XV.
We are now on the borders of Beaver Brook school district. Some of those living here have been mentioned, but I cannot pass by others residing so near my old home.
Abel Farley lived on the farm with Mrs. Ste- vens, and I remember many of his neighborly kindnesses. He and my father often ex- changed work. I think he was brother to Cap- tain Benjamin, and Leonard W. Farley.
The Farleys were good citizens, amiable and genuine in character; and the Farleys seemed to like the Farleys, as Abel, Jefferson, Alfred and Perry, married ladies of their own name.
Now I climb the Proctor Hill for the last time in my letters, as probably I have climbed it for the last time in life.
Mr. Smith used to hold evening meetings at the home of Aaron Proctor, and I attended some of them with my parents, when seven or eight years of age. I remember Mr. Smith's asking one and another as to the religious state
-
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of their minds, beginning generally with the man of the house. Aaron Proctor would say, "I feel pretty stupid." I could not understand what he meant, but the words seemed to be "catching," for I recall that some of the others, as they were questioned, replied also, "I feel rather stupid." At these meetings, one, and sometimes two rooms, were filled by the peo- ple. How many could be gathered there now at such a meeting? Aaron Proctor was a grandson of Moses Proctor, who settled early on the Hill. Deacon E. J. Colburn, to whom I am indebted for certain dates and other items of interest which I shall use, tells me that he was, perhaps, the fourth settler of the town; surely he was a man of real pluck to settle on that hill at so early a date.
Next beyond Aaron Proctor's was the home of Captain Thomas Proctor. His father, Cyrus Proctor, lived there before him, and he was a man of much decision of character. He had a habit of profanity firmly fixed upon him before his conversion at the time of the great revival in 1801. . This so changed his whole life that no one after that ever heard a profane word
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pass his lips. Such is the power of religion! He had a family of fourteen children, healthy and vigorous. One son received a college edu- cation, and settled in Rockport, Indiana. The education of the other children was more lim- ited, amounting to but eight weeks's chooling in the winter, with hard work in the summer. Captain Thomas was a man of good natural ability, and a kind neighbor; but he was like an unhewn block of granite, lacking only edu- cation and culture to have made a leading man. Several of the daughters of Cyrus Proctor set- tled on the hill.
Farther to the west lived Nathaniel Proctor, a mild and quiet man, and a great worker. His son Moses, was older than myself, though in school with me. He was a fine scholar and early began teaching. He became a merchant in Hollis, and afterwards in Charlestown, Mass. Later, he lived on a farm in Milford, where he died. Ira, a younger son, remained on the home farm throughout his life.
Of the large Austin family, I have known the history of Page Austin, only. He left Hollis in 1834, and settled on a farm in Oak-
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ham, Mass., where he has been highly respected, and has held several prominent town offices.
Every Sabbath morning in good weather, the dwellers on Proctor Hill might have been seen passing the lane leading to my father's house. There would be from ten to twenty or more persons, women as well as men and children, on their way to church, on foot. In the early days of my remembrance there were no buggies or spring wagons on the hill. On warm days, men and boys walked with coats on their arms or with no coats at all. The distance from Nathaniel Proctor's or Mr. Austin's was no ob- stacle. When the Sabbath came people ex- pected to go to church as a matter of course. Even Capt. Thomas Proctor after he had a lame knee, walked the distance. This habit was the result of the training which the com- munity received under Pastors Emerson and Smith.
I find that the Colburn farm on Colburn Hill was purchased and became the home of Nathan Colburn, Sr., in 1781. Here he resided until 1822, managing the farm himself, until its bur- dens induced him to have his son Nathan re-
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turn and take the farm, relieving him from care. I remember them as they were at that time. Nathan, Jr., brought to this home a wife and six children. Naturally, he at once took an interest in the school, and the children were my mates as long as Hollis was my home. Nathan Colburn, Jr., was a quiet, thoughtful man, who never aimed at display. I can see him now, standing with one eye closed, think- ing deeply. His judgment was good, and his influence always for the right. Deacon Enoch Jewett Colburn was born in this home, and if ever I saw him before he became a man, it was on the 17th day of February, 1831. On that day his grandfather died, and that night I spent at the house with Amos Farley, to watch the dead, as was the custom.
It is one of the remembered items of family history, that on the next day when the vener- able grandfather may be said to have stepped into the grave to pass forever from human sight, the baby grandson, Enoch Jewett, stood upon his feet and took his first step alone. So it is ordered, "One generation goeth and an- other cometh!" The family of Nathan Col-
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burn, Jr., scattered as they grew to mature years,-one going to Tennessee, one to Ohio, one to Pennsylvania, and one, James, to the Sacramento valley, in California, where he now resides on a large farm; at least, Hollis people would think it so, for he owns and farms twenty- five hundred acres, and is one of California's financially strong men. Nathan Colburn, Jr., was gathered to his fathers in 1865, at the age
of eighty years. I am glad that Deacon E. J.
has "stayed by the stuff." He has remained on the old place which has been in the family one hundred and ten years. He is a man with the characteristics of those who early settled the town; a man useful in the church and the community. As he goes about with his sur- veyor's compass and chain he gathers into his retentive memory a valuable store of historical facts and bits of interesting information, in which he takes special delight, and which help to make him an entertaining companion. His children are leaving his home. One is in the far west, in the state of Washington; another is in the Old Bay State.
Nathan Colburn, Sr., is represented through
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six generations in the line of Erie and Lucinda, and by five generations through the line of James and Enoch Jewett, children of Nathan, Jr., all within my own lifetime and remem- brance.
Stephen Lund's family is the last in this dis- trict of which I shall speak. A vision rises be- fore me of the old brown horse ploughing through the snow with the long sleigh, carry- ing Mr. Lund's children to school, so deter- mined was he that they should have an oppor- tunity for education. He had his reward. His daughters were always chosen first at spelling matches, and all his children were good scholars. Though somewhat eccentric, Mr. Lund was an upright and worthy man, with an especial scorn for anything approaching deceit. A story is told of him which illustrates his own uncompro- mising frankness. There came a time when he wished to secure a wife, and a mother for his children. Having selected a suitable person, he made his proposal somewhat after this style: "I am a widower, and I have nine children (just John Rogers' number). There is not a poorer house in town than mine. I am several hundred
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dollars in debt. My children are as ugly and un- ruly as children in general. My wife will be obliged to work hard and will enjoy few luxu- ries. Now will you marry me?" Nothing daunted, the good lady said "Yes," and she made him an excellent wife.
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XVI.
As we set out upon our wanderings to-day, let us take our position in the northwest school district, near the residence of the late Captain Bailey.
There was so much of the salt of real good- ness in this part of Hollis, that, as I think of one and another who lived there seventy years ago, and of their noble, pure and unselfish lives, my unworthy pen almost shrinks from the task, delightful though it is. Here was one of the strong outposts of the church; it was here that Mr. Smith held some of his most precious meetings.
When we think of Captain Bailcy, Deacon Philip Wood, Solomon Hardy and others worthy like them, it will not seem strange that the soul of young Eli Sawtelle was early fired to do good. His home was one of obscurity, his life, one of simplicity. He had been bound an apprentice to a shoemaker. At eighteen years of age, he bought his time for ninety dol-
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lars, for which he gave his note, payable when he should return to Hollis, a minister. Then he went out on foot and alone, with all his worldly possessions in a bundle under his arm, and just fourteen dollars in his pocket, But the great soul within him burned with a desire for education, and with a determination to preach the gospel. He made his way through · the wilderness to Tennessee, commenced his thorough course of study and worked his way through college and a theological course. Ten years later, abont 1827, he returned to Hollis, Rev. Eli Sawtelle, the eloquent preacher. Among his first acts was the payment of his ninety dollar note. I well remember his ser- mons, so full of earnestness and pathos, and the revival that followed. He labored as an evangelist for a few years, and then settled in Kentucky. Not long after, he was called to take charge of the interests of the Seaman's Friend Society at Havre, France, where a Sea- man's Chapel was built and a church was or- ganized, of which he became pastor. The last few years of his working life were spent in Sar- atoga, where he organized and preached to a
1
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Congregational Church. Then the great doc- tor rested a little in his old age before he was taken home to his reward. A good and strong man came out from this little Nazareth.
Nor was he the sole preacher of ability from this district. Solomon Hardy, Jr., was one; and another was Philip Wood, Jr., a noted Pres- byterian minister in East Tennessee.
I acknowledge myself indebted to Mr. C. A. Wood, of Piqua, Ohio, for many of the items in this letter. He is the youngest son of the late Deacon Philip Wood, and, although he long ago made Ohio his home, has never lost his interest in his native town, where I met him in 1880.
There were in this school district fourteen families whose children used to attend school in the old house in the sand bank, near the home of good old Captain Bailey. Two of his grand-children were in the school .. Ah! Cap- tain, you little knew of the lameness that awaited you in later life, so that a plank must be laid from your door-step to the wagon, on a Sabbath morning, and that strong men must, at the meeting-house door, lift your wagon from
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the fore-wheels and rest it on the church steps!
Next on the road to Milford, lived Leonard Bailey, whose three children attended school.
Beyond, lived Solomon Hardy, of "ox cart" fame. No Pharisee was more exact in his life than was this good man. His children in the school were Solomon, Page and Clarissa. On Sabbath mornings might have been seen Solo- mon and his family with oxen and cart, and his gentle voice might have been heard saying, "Go 'long, Buck and Berry," as he gave them softly a touch of the whip.
From the home of Mr. Baldwin, farther on, Thomas and Rebecca attended school. Other children had finished their studies there.
Next, on the Milford line, Deacon Philip Wood, whose farm comprised about two-thirds of the old town of Munson. Hewas an Israelite indeed, in whom there was no guile. I never saw much of Mr. Wood, but I remember his countenance well, and I heard him speak a few times. His face, so full of genuine goodness and benevolence, could not be forgotten. He had a family of seven sons and one daughter; all have now passed away but the two youngest,
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William and Charles, who reside at Piqua, Ohio. The family of Deacon Wood has been repre- sented in eight different states, and there are now sixty of his descendants in Piqua.
South of east, lived Captain Spaulding, an ardent Jackson Democrat, who had a big cele- bration on Jackson's first election in 1828, in- viting all his Federal neighbors to help him rejoice. He had several children in the school. I remember well the two elder sons.
Next south was Josiah Hayden, who had a large family. His son Samuel at the age of thirty-five was one of the best specimens of manhood, both morally and physically, that Hollis has ever produced. He was one of the last tithing-men, this office being abolished in 1850. To do this family justice would take many pages, but I will simply add that the old home is now owned by Daniel W. and David N., sons of Captain Hayden. The house is in good condition; the large living room is just the same as when Susan did the spinning, and Lydia the weaving; and there, too, is the same fire-place where their mother cooked those good dinners. The Hayden Brothers, on removing the old
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mill dam on Bailey Brook, which was replaced by the present stone dam, found the hemlock boughs placed there seventy-five years before, as perfect as when first covered.
South, toward Long Pond Hill, resided Cap- tain Jonathan Taylor Wheeler, one of the first men of Hollis to advocate temperance. Cap- tain Wheeler's father and mother resided with him and lived to a great age-the mother to over one hundred and three years. Captain Wheeler was the Vanderbilt of this district, and always had a hundred dollars to loan his poorer neighbor, taking in payment almost anything offered. Six of his children were in school, I intend to speak further of Captain Wheeler as an agriculturist in another place.
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