USA > New Hampshire > Grafton County > Warren > The history of Warren; a mountain hamlet, located among the White hills of New Hampshire > Part 22
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. But the most historical of all the grand old hunting's that have come down to us was one that happened that very winter of these primitive times. Chase Whitcher had been across the mountains to Glen ponds to fish for trout through the ice. Coming home he found a great yard of moose. There were more of them than any one man wanted, and he generously told his neighbors of the dis- covery. Then they began to plan the way of capture and a day to put it in execution was set when every man should be ready for the work.
Simeon Smith, and Morrill from Red Oak hill, Hinchson, Patch, Mills, and Butler, all the Merrills, Joshua Copp, and Obadiah Clem- ent, both the Whitchers and others started for the yard early one bright morning. It was up the side of Mount Carr in the glen through which Patch brook flows, and over the northern mountain spur, like Bonaparte over the Alps, more than 3,000 feet up, in the mid winter snow. There was a hard crust and the sunlight stream- ing through the trees flashed on the myriad icy particles. A part- ridge whirred away from before them into the snow covered firs, a rabbit that was eating spruce burrs leaped past, and both were un- heeded either by hunters or dogs. It was ten o'clock when they reached the yard. The first sight showed them that it was no or- dinary one. It was on the mountain side, on the Black hill beyond, and ran down by Glen pond, across the valley to the side of Mt. Kineo. The Black hill had been crossed and recrossed a hundred times from base to summit. A hundred parallels girdled the hill around, intersecting the perpendiculars, and all were hard and deeply trodden paths, so hard a moose could not be tracked in them, so narrow a man could not run in them. It was a mazy labyrinth and to attempt to thread it was to give the animals an opportunity
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A GRAND MOOSE HUNT.
to escape. The moose could run ten to fifteen miles an hour through the devious windings, browsing and eating as they ran, and neither dogs nor men could come up to them. Therefore this little army of hunters, out on this grand hunting excursion, imme- diately separated. They went round on either side each leaving the other at a considerable distance, then they cautiously entered the yard; when a gun was fired they let loose the dogs; their yel- ling was wild music in the woods, accompanied by the noise of the moose pounding away at a hard swinging trot, their broad antlers resounding as they sometimes hit a tree, their wide-spread hoofs crackling at every step as they fied from their pursuers.
And now all are on the tip-toe of expectation. Each man be- lieves he is sure of his game. Captain William Butler is deter- mined to bag one. But when the mightiest animal he ever saw went swinging by he found he had the moose fever, and instead of stopping his game, the old bull answered the crack of his gun with a bellow and bounded out of sight in a moment. It did not even leave the trace of blood on the snow, much to our excellent marksman's delight. Simeon Smith halloed with exceeding joy at the sight of one and forgot to fire at all. Morrill called him a fool and forgot to fire himself, and Stevens Merrill was so greatly pleased, or had the fever so bad that he fired in the air, probably philosophi- cally thinking the ball might strike one when it came down. But Chase Whitcher brought down a moose the first time trying, Joseph Patch had the same good luck, and Obadiah Clement had the good fortune to shoot two. The others did not succeed in getting a shot.
Four moose were as many as they cared for, or could well take care of. So the dogs were called and the rest were suffered to escape. The work of skinning and dressing was quickly accom- plished, and the product loaded on the light, broad runnered hand- sleds which they had brought with them.
It was hard work coming over the mountain, and before they arrived at the summit William Butler's rotund body was too heavy for his legs, and he laid down in the snow from exhaustion. His good friends rubbed him smartly, placed him upon one of the sleds,
John Marston, who lived at the Summit, first house up High street, once went on one of these grand moose hunts. He was pretty hungry and drank two quarts of moose marrow. It made him terrible sick, liked to have killed him, and the party had to build a fire and stay in the woods all night. The next day they drew him home on a hand sled .- Nathaniel Richardson's statemeni.
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
covered him warmly with their frocks and drew him home too, the heaviest moose, as they said, of the whole lot. Going down the mountain he playfully asked Stevens Merrill if a moose lived in the moon? a stupid joke that Mr. M. could not see.
There was feasting and merry making in the settlement after that, and the grand hunt known as " the one when Captain But- ler's legs gave out," has not yet been forgotten.
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CHAPTER VII.
OF A PROVISION FOR RELIGIOUS MEETINGS ; GRANDILOQUENT DESCRIP- TION OF ONE AND HOW IT CLOSED WITH A CUP OF SWEET COM- FORT AND PEACE, AS WAS THE CUSTOM IN ANCIENT TIMES.
LIKE one of the old knights of the middle ages hurrying abroad to avenge the wrongs of a wicked world, but at times paus- ing under the cool embowering shades, and by babbling brooks in green meadows to enjoy the delights of life, so we hastening to the bustling confusion and the turmoil of the great events of our im- mortal history, are fain to pause a few moments to revel in the halcyon sweets in this the twilight age of our mountain hamlet, before plunging into the wild scenes of the coming troublesome times that are sure to follow.
Benning Wentworth, peace to his ashes! had a pious respect for the Church of England, a Christian desire for propagating the gospel in foreign parts, and a right good will for the support of preaching. Consequently he inserted in the charter that a certain portion of the lots among the hills should be set apart for the sup- port of the church, preaching, and the missionary cause.
Our excellent proprietors were prompt to second the good in- tentions of the ancient governor. At the very first division of the lots, No. 2 of the 4th range was drawn for the support of a minister; No. 2 of the 8th range for the society for propagating the gospel; and No. 1 of the 9th range as a glebe for the Church of England, as by law established .*
* In the subsequent divisions of land other lots were drawn for the above purposes, for a list of which see appendix.
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
And the first settlers on the hillsides and in the pleasant valley of the hamlet were just as desirous of a little religious food as the royal governor and the lordly proprietors were to impart it. Therefore they began to cast about for a minister to expound the scriptures and break the bread of life to them.
It is told how the first religious meeting was held one Sabbath out in the broad open air, and the Rev. Mr. Powers, of Haverhill, N. H., preached the discourse. He and the Rev. Mr. Ward, of Plymouth, were the only ministers who resided in the wild regions round about our beloved valley for many years, and a minister and public Sabbath worship were rare in those primitive times .*
It was summer when the meeting was held. Spring is gone, when the corn was planted and the children set to scare away the crows that came to pull up the tender shoots. The snow drop, the primrose, the cowslip, and the violets are gone; but the wild rose has come, the elder is in blossom, the raspberry is red in the hedge by the brush fence, and the unripe blackberry is turning to a rich, luscious, and jetty black. Haying time has come, the mowers have been at work among the stumps and logs cutting the heavy burden of grass. The green swaths have been spread to dry by the merry boys and girls, the haycocks have been heaped high, and upon the rude sled to which the steers have been yoked it is drawn to the barn. But the scythes, rakes, and forks had been laid aside, the steers unyoked and turned away in the pasture that Saturday night and all made ready for the Sabbath.
My grandmother said that Sunday was a bright, beautiful day. When the sun rose over the great mountains and the mighty wood, all the world seemed hushed and still. As the hours crept on the people began to assemble. The spot chosen for the meeting was on the ridge of land that formed the barrier of Runaway pond, and west of Black brook, the Mikaseota. They came . by the blazed paths through the woods from every little clearing. Nearly all walked then; there were but few saddle horses and no carriages. Some of the men and the boys and girls are barefoot. They are
* When Mr. Powers saw young men felling trees * he would call to them and say if Providence favored him, he would preach to them in that place on such a day and at such an hour. These were welcome propositions generally, and if there were other settlements near they were informed of the appointment, and Mr. Powers at the hour specified would find his hearers seated on stumps and logs all ready to receive the word .- History of Coos. 77.
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FIRST RELIGIOUS MEETING.
dressed in their everyday garments ; Sunday clothes they have none. The men are in their shirt sleeves, their frocks slung across their arms in case it might rain. You would particularly notice Stevens Merrill and his intelligent black eyed wife. He was a man ad- vanced in years, dressed differently from most of the rest, for he had his Quaker suit on, and was in the habit of speaking out in meeting if the sermon did not suit him .* There was Mr. Simeon Smith, from Red Oak hill, also somewhat advanced in life. He was always noticed to be a little nervous at meeting. His wife had heated the large Dutch oven that morning, and put in an iron pot of beans and an earthen dish of Indian pudding, to bake in their absence, and be ready for supper when they returned. His neighbor John Mor- rill comes along with him, and his wife, a fleshy woman, has on her arm, as do nearly all the rest, a bag filled with nut cakes and cold meat for a luncheon. You will see coming up from Hur- ricane brook, Joseph Patch and his young wife, the daughter of Stevens Merrill. His neighbor, Mr. Hinchson, who lives alone in the woods, the hunter and trout and salmon catcher, accompanies him. William Butler also comes, the young man fat and portly. His wife, Mehitable, and John Mills, Sr., and John Mills, Jr., are all on hand, as the saying is. 'Squire Jonathan, as he was known in latter days, is there also with his wife and children. Ephraim True comes from " over the river." He has waded across for there is no bridge. Along with him is his wife and half a dozen small children, the latter still shy and wild just like young partridges. Joshua Merrill, who lived to be a hundred years old, who was a tailor by trade, was there with his family, from the foot of Beech hill. He wore a three-cornered cocked hat on that day, small clothes, neatly fitting, and tight stockings, with huge knee buckles and silver shoe buckles. He was an exception, as we have said before, and was always the best dressed man in town. Joshua Copp, dignified and grave, with his wife and several children was there. Obadiah Clement, always religiously inclined, with his
* Some one was once preaching at Jonathan Clement's inn. Mr. Clement sat inside the bar with his hat on. The minister suddenly changed his discourse, from preaching to the saints, and began to talk to the wicked. Mr. Clement jumped up, shouted amen ! and said he thanked the Lord that the minister was preaching to the sinners. John Abbott rose at once, and in pious accents advised the minis- ter not to dwell long on that subject, as there was only one sinner present, and that one was shut up in the liquor bar, where he couldn't do any hurt. - Miss Hannah Knight's statement.
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
brothers, Jonathan and Reuben,* and their families was present. Isaiah Batchelder, the Clarks, and the Lunds, with their wives and children were down from Tarleton lake, a long journey for them. And even Mr. Chase Whitcher, from his home in the basin of mountains at the north part of the town, had traveled all the way down and was present with his relatives Reuben and John Whitcher, from Pine hill, and the families of each.
Parson Powers in those days wore a black kerseymere coat, silk breeches and stockings, three-cornered hat and fleece-like wig, a white band and white silk gloves. With what dignity did he walk among that little crowd of rough backwoodsmen. How meekly they stood aside to let him pass, although Stevens Merrill was'nt much afraid of him. What was his pulpit? No high box like those of ancient days; but it might have been a large pine stump cut smoothly on the top for the purpose. It might have been a platform of poles placed evenly upon two logs. Above his head was no pyramidal sounding board, but in its stead were mighty columns of towering trees, surmounted by capitals of wavy splen- dor. There were no lofty walls supported by Doric or Corinthian columns around him; no windows painted with images, but in their stead were archivolts of leaves rustling and sighing in the wind; architraves of mighty branches that rocked in the grand chorus of storms, arches of blue with heavenward opening win- dows painted with rainbows and the golden glories of sunset. There were no cushioned pews nor altars gaily decorated and set with precious stones, but their seats were cushioned with forest flowers, their chancel was of flowering banks with balustrades of evergreen ; their altar was gemmed with pebbles and crystals of mica and spangles of emerald moss. Such was the temple in which the first settlers, perhaps blind to the beautiful, worshiped.
Did they have singing at their meeting? Of course they did; but who took the lead it is impossible now to tell.t Whether as was the custom of the day, some one acting as deacon read the
* Reuben Whitcher was a new comer about these times.
t "One of the first choristers of Warren was Captain Stephen Richardson. He always wore to meeting short hip breeches, and long white stockings with silver shoe and knee buckles. He had a watch pocket exactly in front, in the waist-band of his breeches, and a long heavy silver chain, key and seal at the end, attached to his great ' bull's eye watch,' hung dangling atwixt his legs almost down to his knces. He used his pitch pipe freely, beat time lustily with his feet, swayed back
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AN OLD-TIME SUNDAY NOON.
first two lines, and another tooted on the pitch pipe and then led off with his voice, or whether as in our prayer meetings now, they all joined in one of those wild, religious hymns, such as the old Scotch Covenanters were wont to raise in their mountain fastness, or the persecuted Christians sang in the catacombs of Rome, it is also impossible to tell. They had no musical instruments then, but if they had listened they might have heard the winds sighing an accompaniment in the woods, the murmuring anthem of the neigh- boring brooks and distant river, or perhaps if it were a hot summer afternoon the grand diapason of thunder peeling in the gorges of the mountains.
The noontime of that Sunday must have been an interesting occasion for our settlers. Their luncheon eaten and they sat down in knots and groups to talk over the events of the day. The state of the country was discussed then the same as now. The old French war, the tyranny of King George, the Stamp Act, the Tea Party, all came in for their share. Perhaps some of them went to Joshua Copp's cabin, for that was then the most central part of the settlement, and there sat down and drank of his nice cool water from the neighboring spring. Mrs. Copp was a neat woman, her floor ever nicely sanded, her pewter on the open dresser bright and glistening. They talked of the weather, of the births, of the marriages, engagements, health, sickness, and deaths, those among themselves, and particularly of those among their friends down country ; the land from which they had emigrated, for which they yearned, and to which they made frequent pilgrimages.
After the services Parson Powers went home with Obadiah Clement to enjoy the hospitality of his house and spend the night, and he did it right merrily. As the story goes, and such was the custom in those days, a good glass of the dear creature was brought forward, just as soon as he had crossed the threshold, to clear the reverend throat. When night came he had a different kind of bev- erage to make him slumber quietly and induce pleasant dreams .*
and forth as he sung, the watch chain vibrating in unison with the tune, while all the little boys and girls present tittered and laughed at the comical sight."-Miss Hannah Knight's statement.
Colonel Stevens M. Dow said that he had sung with Captain R., and that the Captain was an excellent singer.
* Elder Currier who lived in Wentworth sometimes preached in Warren during the last years of the eighteenth century.
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
In the morning the best the house afforded was served up for breakfast, then an excellent glass of punch was quaffed and away rode the divine of these wilderness settlements on his strong little horse over the Height-o-land, round Tarleton lake, across which a light winged breeze was blowing, through Piermont woods, to the Coos intervals, as they were known in those times.
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CHAPTER VIII.
WAR! HOW IT REARED ITS HORRID FRONT AND ITS DIN RESOUNDED EVEN ACROSS THE BOUNDARIES OF WARREN, TOGETHER WITH WHAT PART OUR EARLY SETTLERS TOOK IN IT.
IT was a bright June day. Joseph Patch was at work clearing a little pasture on the ridge that forms the western foot of Picked hill. It was hot; the sun hung high in heaven, and Patch, pausing to rest, sat down on a long hemlock log to eat his luncheon and quaff a draught of spruce beer. Suddenly there was a strange sound in the air- was it thunder behind the western mountains, the faint rumble of a pent up earthquake, or was it only a partridge drumming in the thick pine woods? He listened and again and again heard it. It was not the partridge's drum, not the thunder, nor the earthquake - what was it?
At noon he spoke to his family about it, but they had not no- ticed it. At night he talked with his neighbors; John Mills had also heard it, and so had Stevens Merrill, but none could tell what it was.
A week went by and a stranger journeying through the valley northward told them that a great battle had been fought at Bunker Hill, and that thousands of men were hurrying to join the rebel army under General Washington.
Before night every settler in the hamlet had heard the news. It is a hundred and twenty miles as the crow flies, to Bunker Hill. There could be heard the booming of cannon all that distance. Now in a clear day the granite shaft which commemorates that
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
event can be seen from the bald peak of Moosehillock mountain.
The settlers had heard of the battle of Lexington, had seen a few men marching south, through the woods, with their queen's arms on their shoulders, to join the army as they said, but they had not minded much about it. But now a thousand men had died on the battle field and the settlers were all on fire at the news and for weeks talked of nothing else.
There were two parties in town, one favored King George, the other the rebels. The latter were much the stronger, numbering twice as many as the former. Frequent discussions arose. But these soon ceased, the last one taking place at Obadiah Clement's bar room, where mine host and Stevens Merrill had a pleasant little talk about the war which resulted in their hating each other cordi- ally ever after.
But there were some who did not wait for discussion; William Heath, as aforesaid, Reuben Clement, Joseph Whitcher, a new comer, and Ephraim Lund were ready to serve their country. They scoured up their old hunting pieces, mended their clothes and shoes and were soon prepared to leave .*
They all went away together on that summer morning. There was no rail car in which to ride, no jolting stage coach to carry them, no wagon of any kind. A long, weary march on foot was before them. They had said good-bye to their families and friends, and as they journeyed down the Asquamchumauke they stopped to take what might be to them a last look. In their hearts they felt that it was " farewell ye great woods and mountains of Warren, ye moose and deer, and ye bright streams of the hills. We may return no more, our graves may be in other lands." Then all day long they hastened down the river. The hills melted away in the distance and the great forest shut the mountains from their sight. A week later they were soldiers in John Stark's regiment, and a part of Washington's army.
Hold! says some incredulous reader now living in our moun- tain hamlet. How do you know all this? Be easy for a moment. When we began the great work of writing this immortal history we could not find a single person who knew anything about those
* John Hinchson was in Captain John Parker's company in 1775. He went to Canada and got home Dec. 31, 1775. He printed his name thus, "JOHN HINKSON." Vol. viii. page 218 .- Records in the office of the Secretary of State, Concord, N. H.
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THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION BEGUN.
who served in the war of the Revolution. But in the process of time the whole subject gradually unfolded itself. One of the first steps was the finding the census of 1775 .* Then Warren and Piermont were classed together for enumeration. The population of both towns was at that time one hundred and sixty-eight persons, and of these, although the war had but just commenced, fifteen men were serving in the army. Now there were about twenty families in Warren, and allowing five persons in a family which is nearly the average, one hundred of the above population belonged in Warren. We can safely say one half of it did and by the same rule can claim half the soldiers. But we are modest and don't claim but five as that is all that we can hear of. Perhaps there were more.
And now excitement prevailed throughout the land; the notes of preparation, the din of arms, the clangor of the strife resounded to our hamlet among the hills. Speculators and sutlers were abroad, and Daniel Gilman came to town buying all the moose skins he could find, which he manufactured into moosehide breeches and sold to the Continental Government at eighteen shillings a pair.t The quartermaster was abroad, and the great Committee of Safety appointed for the whole State of New Hampshire contracted with Joshua Copp, Esq., our settler on the banks of Runaway pond, to notify the various towns of Grafton county and collect their quota of beef for the use of the Continental army .; Something to drink for the soldiers was necessary, and as there was no distillery in Warren, Phillips White, the good, kind hearted proprietor we have mentioned so many times before, generously advanced the amount to be furnished by the settlers of his township, which was " nine garlins and two quarts of West Indea rum." ** But the strangest thing that happened this year was the appointment of John Balch " to ride post" through all the northern country and through our
* The following is the entry under the head of Piermont and Warren, in the census report of 1775, viz : Males under sixteen, 52; Males from sixteen to fifty, 28; Males above fifty, 4; Males in the army, 15; Females, 69; Negroes and Slaves, 0. Total, 168. Firearms fit for use 1; do. wanting, 31; pounds public powder, 16; do. private powder, 0 .- N. H. Hist. Coll. Vol. 1, 235.
+ Thursday Oct. 31st, 1776. Agreed with Mr. Danl Gilman for 100 coarse Moose Hide Breeches, at 18s .- N. H. Hist. Coll. Vol. vii. page 63.
+ " March 6, 1783. Ordered the Treas to pay Joshua Copp, Colt. of_Beef, Grafton, five pounds fourteen shillings, for time and Expences, &c., to notify Towns of the time to receive Beef."-N. H. Hist. Coll. Vol. vii. page 317.
** See Vol. i. Town Clerk's Book.
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
mountain hamlet of course. He was appointed by the aforesaid Committee of Safety, and was to set out from Portsmouth on Saturday morning and ride to Haverhill by way of Conway and Plymouth, thence down the Connecticut river to Charleston and Keene, and to Portsmouth again in fourteen days, and was to receive seventy hard silver dollars, or their equivalent, for every three months' service. For the whole seven long years of the revolutionary war John Balch rode post.
We are told how one night the storm and darkness overtook him in the woods this side of Plymouth. All the long, black hours he stopped in one of our old " hotels," and only came riding past Stevens Merrill's just as the rising sun was flashing among the waterfalls and sending the night mists down the glens. But most often he came to Warren in the bright forenoon, when the woods were cheerful and the rough clearings inviting. As he dashed along the stony bridle path he would blow a blast on his post horn, rousing the old wood and waking the echoes. Then he would laugh to see what a turn out there would be from the log cabins ; the good man and his wife, all the flaxen headed children, and even the cat and dog, the geese, turkeys, and chickens, and sometimes the old horse, cow, and hog, each seeming eager to know why
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