USA > New York > Orange County > Monroe > Chronicles of Monroe in the olden time : town and village, Orange County, New York > Part 6
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their supposed derivation, "ne-idle"! The travelling tailor would "whip the cat " from house to house statedly, to help make up or cut the garments for the men. Such despatch could sometimes be reached in those days, that it is said that the wool was on the sheep one Sunday morning, when marriage banns were published, and on the next Sunday, when the couple were to be joined, the same was on the bride-
groom. The hides raised on the farm came home in shoe leather. Then the travelling cobbler came around and shod the family, from father down. The father sometimes tried his hand at cobbling, and on one occasion had not time to trim the sole of his boy's shoe before school, where he called forth the derisive remark, "They be big enough for oxen." But the cuisine must not be overlooked. When we consider the conveniences, it was a marvel. The huge, clumsy fireplace, with its crane and pot-hooks, its hearth and oaken bench, its glowing coals and steaming vessels, was always an object of unique interest.
Before the Dutch oven came, the fowl was hung up by a cord before the fire, and the frying-pan, with its long handle, was propped up by a stick. The oven received special care in construction and manage- ment. It must be heated with good chestnut oven- wood; carefully brushed out when the proper tem- perature was reached; no ashes must cling to the loaf of bread or cake. What experience and care were required ! Yet out of that oven would come a mar- vellous supply of most delicious brown loaves and cake, sometimes six kinds from the same dough. She was an alchemist, and if she had not found the phi- losopher's stone, she certainly out of that stone shrine of hers brought some masterpieces which the old
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men never ceased to praise : pumpkin loaf, succo- tash, crackling, apple pot pie, venison steaks, short- cake, oily koeks, crullers, Sally Lunn, and her chef d'œuvre, black fruit-cake, the glory of the wedding feast.
The housewife had to manufacture so many things from the very foundation. Her yeast she must ob- tain from her own hop-vine, or borrow it from a neighbor over on the turnpike, whose skill is perpetu- ated in the name. Her sweetening comes from the maple-trees, and, at her will, becomes either molas- ses or sugar. Her cider can be converted into vine- gar if she wishes, supplying the place of mother to it. Cider apple-sauce supplied the place of sweetmeats. Her kitchen is a laboratory. Tins shine like silver; tubs are scoured to marvellous whiteness; churns and butter-tray are sweet as a heifer's breath; and her broom, the work of her old man, constitutes her sceptre, which all have in sacred awe.
Rock-oil had not been struck as yet. Spermaceti was a luxury too expensive for common use. Illu- minating material must be found on the farm. Beef- tallow was utilized. Candles were made by twisting a cotton wick and dipping in melted tallow until they were of sufficient size. These primitive lights were dim and dirty, requiring the snuffers and fre- quent attention. They were used in church and home. By them, the family read and the minister wrote his sermon. He gave notice of evening service "at early candlelight." The thief in the candle and the flickering flame in the socket were often an ob- ject lesson for him in his dimly lighted chapel.
Characteristic features of the hearth in those days were the andirons, innocent of spot; the shovel,
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tongs, and bellows; the crane, with its row of pot- hooks, so often cited by the schoolmaster as a com- parison for the writing-lesson. Building the fire on such a hearth is a fine art, the very test of a good prospective wife. Back log and top log must be there, and kindlings rightly laid. The old man may insist upon bringing in the first over the highly polished floor with the pony; then there is a small hurricane about his ears, for the ancient housewife, as the mod- ern, "went," as was said, "for the last dirt." The wood in order, she will soon have it lit, even if she has to take the axe herself and make better kind- lings. Where is the fire to come from ?' If she has no embers from last night, carefully covered up, she must either go to a neighbor's to borrow, or she must draw on some home device.
There were no matches sixty years ago. Flint and tinder-box were necessary articles of furniture. The tinder was of home manufacture-no other than scorched rags. When these were not at hand, the flint-lock gun, hanging over the mantle, was taken down to give a spark. An old lady described to the writer her experience in an effort of that kind, when she pointed the gun up the chimney, fired it, and was thrown on her back by the recoil, her grandsons having loaded it with shot without her knowledge. One was mischievous enough to say, "Lay still, granny ; there are three more loads in it."
Now upon the glowing hearth the skilled housewife will prepare most of her simple repast. The potatoes and roasting ears are pushed into the coals ; the grid- dle is hung on the crane; the tea-kettle sings a merry song; the baby is crowing in the cradle, ready to spring into the sinewy arms of the bronzed son of
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toil when he comes in from the fields or milking-yard ; then when the group gathers about the humble board, parents and rosy-cheeked, sun-kissed boys and girls,- for fashion has not entered there to curse with child- lessness,-when that group is formed and grace is said, Heaven smiles, and out of the Oracle come the words, "Thou shalt eat the labor of thine hands. Happy shalt thou be. It shall be well with thee. Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine, thy children as olive-plants around thy table."
Come with me to the spring-house, where the milk is conveyed from the milking-yard. Everything is scrupulously clean about the spot. The dames of that day, although not all Wesleyans, remembered John Wesley's aphorism that " cleanliness is akin to godliness." Even the cat and dog had to respect such religion, and wait until the milk was strained, before they received their share. The milk was strained to the last hair; for the process of setting the milk, skimming the cream, and handling the par- ticles of butter is sure to bring any lurking speck to light. What a sight are those shining pans, filled with the creamy fluid, set afloat in the silvery pebble- paved spring ! What a curiosity it would be now to see the big churn operated by a machine with in- clined wheel and lever, the motive-power being a huge dog or a sheep! We knew of a minister visit- ing in a neighboring town, who had never seen the like, spring from his bed upon hearing the thud of the dasher against the floor and the bleat of the impatient sheep, and actually get out of the window to inquire what it meant, intimating that he thought it some new device of the adversary. The labor of the churn was periodic and not light, as even the dog learned
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and would manage to have an engagement elsewhere on that day. A dog with a log chained to his neck, going for parts unknown, was not an uncommon sight. At such times we have seen the wheel mounted by an Irish boy, and sometimes a girl; the jolly face peering out through a hole made for it over the machine.
The parlor of the housewife is dainty, with its quaint furniture, first efforts of the family in art, vases of bachelors' buttons, dried immortelles, a hor- net's nest, birds' eggs, sea-shells, fragments of coral, and curios picked up on sea or land,-a place so sacred that it is opened only for a wedding or birth- day party. Her bedroom is not less neat, with its canopied bedstead, valance, small pillows and feather- bed, all of live goose feathers; and she knows it, for did she not pluck the geese herself ? The covering of that bed is her own handiwork; the wool of the blankets she spun, the linen she drew from the distaff, the counterpane of blue and white, with her own name woven into it, she carried to the weaver's herself, and every thread in it she had handled. If there is a quilt, you cannot count the pieces ; but she will tell you the history of every one. But come and see her jewels. Like Cornelia, you must wait till they come in from school or field. They are a splen- did lot, assorted sizes and sexes. Girls counted in that age as well as boys. They are not a pale, nervous crowd, made up by the French tailor and modiste. They are dressed in linsey-woolsey or calico and homespun ; and yet they have their simple pleasures, content because they know not the glamour of modern fashionable folly. An occasional spinning- bee, or a husking frolic, or a straw ride, with
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merry companions, was enough for them. The mother, however, must make a trip to New York once in a while, to eke out supplies which she can- not find on the farm or at the country store. She wants some Bohea, Merrimac prints, a bit of silk or ribbon, an outfit for the daughter; and she cannot step on the cars or steamboat, but must ride to Corn- wall and take a sloop. She takes butter and eggs to trade with. She must take mattress and bed-clothes, also provisions. The captain will allow her to boil her kettle over his fire, but otherwise she must care for herself. Neighbors would go in company, and often more than a week would be consumed in sight- seeing and bargaining. Amusing incidents occurred
on some of these trips. On one occasion a neighbor was taking a coop of live chickens by sloop to market. The rats invaded his coops and killed the poultry, whereupon he was very loud in his denunciation, and threatened to scuttle the boat and send the whole con- cern to Davy Jones's locker if the loss was not made up to him. On another of these trips the sloop was becalmed, and the captain said that the women had knit up all his wind. They were pretty sure to widen the realm of experience and thought ; for there were few books and papers then - a Bible, catechism, some old volume of sermons, a novel, and an almanac would comprise the family library. But the trip would bring a book, a new fashion, or some new re- cipe. The Navarino bonnet came in that way, and the pillow-sleeves and the hoops. But it was not till the railroad was laid that modern fashions and conveniences were adopted. Fifty years ago there were but one piano and one pipe-organ in the village. A sewing-machine came about the same time as the
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mowing-machine. It was rude, and soon got out of order. It was handed over to the minister to repair ; for in those days it was said, " What he did not know was not worth knowing." He paid himself for his work by making with it a pair of overalls, and every seam gave way, it being one-threaded. What rapid strides of improvement since ! A house now without a Singer or a Domestic, a piano or an organ, a steam-heater and a bath-room with hot and cold water, is an exception about Monroe.
If the farmer's wife was such a model of adapta- tion to her sphere, her husband must be no less so. Since
" Adam delv'd and Eve span,"
farming has been not merely one of the most honor- able of vocations, but has required the most of both physical and mental energy. It is not commonly thought so, because in many countries the farmer class are oppressed and so burdened that they have no opportunity to educate themselves or their fami- lies. Then, again, Nature is so beneficent that often a very dull person may be able to " tickle the earth with a hoe and make it laugh a harvest." But here especially there is room for the exercise of the largest intelligence, and the best there is in man. The farmer has to do with soils and fertilizers ; he must bring some knowledge of chemistry to bear on this department. So must he know of plant life, its laws and enemies. He has to do with cattle and other farm stock; he must be a herdman, and know not merely how to care for these in health, but also in sickness. Then he must be a carpenter, and be able to repair his tools and vehicles, and in these days be a machin-
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ist, for the implements and appliances of the farm are such now that one must know how to manage a lathe, a windmill, a steam-engine, and sometimes a dynamo. Farming is not the dull round of crass igno- rance, or the amusement of elegant leisure. It is worthy the name of a profession. To do it well de- mands a technical education. But some will acquire this without the aid of the college. An observing mind on the farm will gather up facts, elaborate them by experience, and make his deductions so wisely that even the college-bred is compelled to come to him for help. Monroe had a remarkable illustration in one of its sons, the late John H. Knight, who was chosen to take charge of the New Jersey State Farm, under the superintendence of Professor Cook of Rutgers College. John managed that farm for this institu- tion for years with great success, his experimental knowledge being necessary to verify and illustrate the theories and deductions of the books and the class room.
Mr. Knight returned to his native town to give his neighbors the benefit of the knowledge he had ac- quired, and still further aided the interests of this dairy region by introducing a fine breed of cattle, namely, the belted, or Dutch, breed, realizing what the Monroe farmer has been always studying to find - the ideal milch cow.
It will be of value to some of our readers to present certain facts in regard to the belted cattle just re- ferred to. I am indebted for the following communi- cation to the Hon. A. B. Hulse :
"The Hurd Register of the Dutch Belted Cattle Association states as follows : The original Dutch name, still used in Holland, is Lakenfeld cattle; laken being a sheet to be wound around the 12
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body of the animal. Their breeding dates back to the seventeenth century, when cattle interests in Holland were in the most thrifty condition, and this type and color, being established by scientific breeding, decidedly the highest attainment ever reached in the science of breeding. The historian Motley has well said, 'These are the most wonderful cattle in the world.'"
They were controlled by the nobility of Holland, and they are up to the present time keeping them pure. They are not inclined to sell or part with them. They have a broad band or belt around their body, in white, while the rest of the body is black, making a very beautiful and imposing contrast. They are above the average size, commonly known as business size. The early importers in the United States were D. H. Haight of Goshen, New York, who made three importations ; the Hon. H. Coleman; and P. T. Bar- num, our national showman. The Haight importa- tions were carefully bred on a farm in Orange County, New York. The noted Holbert and Knight herds were also established from this importation by careful selection. These famous herds comprise the founda- tion of most of the thoroughbreds in America. Some of the finest specimens of this noted breed, now in this country, are descendants of the late John Knight's herd. He was not an importer, but a breeder of some of the finest specimens of these cattle ever bred in this country.
CHAPTER XV.
THE DRESS OF THE OLDEN TIME.
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THE men wore at the close of the Revolution cocked hat, corded knee-breeches, with stockings and low shoes. These were adorned with buckles at knee and ankle. The wealthy had them of silver, with quaint inscriptions, such as :
" When money 's low the ring must go ; If that won't do, the buckles too."
The neckwear was a collar and high black silk or satin stock, that held the head up very prim. The hair was tied in a queue. This, when worn by the school- master, was always a point inviting attack from the average small boy. The vest was flowery, long, and flanked with wide pockets, in which was the inevitable snuff-box, which was constantly offered in compli- ment, and tapped before the delicious powder was ap- plied to the nose. The coat had high collar, and the top-coat long skirts with broad pocket-flaps. One of the elderly ladies said that she remembered seeing one of these old men in such a dress, and as he was a man both of wealth and fine physique, with silver buckles and sometimes a silk dressing-gown, she was much impressed by him. The boy was the man in minia- ture, with modifications ; in many instances the father and older brothers made over. He was a happy boy who was shaken down into his own buckskin trousers to wear the same till they were ready to be cut up
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for foot-ball or top-cord. The summer boy belonged to the barefoot regiment. It was his delight to shed his shoes with the first blue-bird, even though he had to warm his feet on the ground where the cows had lain, inviting her ladyship to rise for his accommoda- tion. A city lady once expressed pity for such a boy, and was about to offer him money to buy shoes, sup- posing it was caused by poverty, but was checked by the remark that he was no waif, but the son of one of the best families in Monroe.
The clothes were usually made in the house, the goods woven sometimes and dyed. Butternut-chips and oak-balls and indigo formed the little stock of dye-stuffs and gave sufficient variety of tint. The travelling tailor would come at set times with his goose and lap-board, and make up the clothes of the men folks, as they were called. 'Nijah Barton was the travelling newspaper and poet of the time. He would sing of
"The old brown overcoat and apple-tree buttons."
For even the buttons were often home-made. The shoes were made by the travelling shoemaker, who came with lap-stone and last. He was a true disciple of St. Crispin, and knew well how to fit the boy with his Monroe ties, and the young man with his first high boots. Copper-toes and patent-leathers were alike unknown then. This sort of trade itineracy was called " whipping the cat." The shoemaker was as full of story and humor as his itinerant co-laborer.
" Rap, rap, rap ! And he shook his paper cap; While his lap-stone on his knees Echoed back his ecstacies. "
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The dress of the fairer part of creation we approach with more of self-distrust,- probably may show our- selves as much mystified and perplexed as was Mark Twain when he exchanged satchels with a young lady, and opened hers at his hotel, supposing it was his own.
"We dressed," said one good dame, "not as we would, but as we could." The working, every-day garb was a short gown and skirt; a check apron for the kitchen, and a white one if a neighbor happened in. The big chintz sunbonnet was always at hand, to slip on if there was an errand out in the sunlight; for there was the same care then as now to guard the complexion from tan and freckles, particularly on the part of the younger women. " The young girls wore flats," said a dame of seventy, "and we tied them down over our faces, and carried umbrellas to screen us from the sun." No such familiarity from Dan Sol or any of the masculine persuasion was permitted till their preordained alter ego came along. One old man said, "I sat up with her to feed some little pigs that had lost their mother, and when it got kind of tedious I just kissed her because I thought it had never been offered her before." It must always be remembered that the pink sunbonnet shaded eyes as bright and cheeks as soft and fair, with hands as white and hearts that beat beneath the plain white kerchief as warm as any to-day. Then also was there the same love of dress, the same fickleness of fashion. The old attics reveal to-day some of the quaint articles of costume with which the fair dames appeared on state occasions. Here is an enormous bonnet of straw, that would be as unwelcome at the play as some of the modern plumed aureolas. A
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pair of buckram frames tell the story of pillow- sleeves, big as those a missionary's wife found to contain stuff enough to make her child a dress. Then there were gowns of textures oft as delicate and tasteful, if not as rich and costly, as now, just as varied in pattern and often far more elaborate in adornment; for much of the lace and other trim- ming was made by their own deft hands, which were seldom idle. It is a mistake to suppose that all the artistic fabrics and forms are modern. Silk-weavers seek the antique for beauty of pattern, and costumers revert to Dolly Varden, Mother Hubbard, Marie-An- toinette, and Madame Pompadour when they want to bring out something to astonish.
Now and then a bridal dress has survived the wreck of time, recalling a sentiment which in all ages brings out the best that is in human nature. The veil and wreath were then, as now, the bride's pre- rogative. Perhaps a dainty slipper appears, filled once by some fairy foot that perchance has lost its light- ness. But how it once tripped down the stair, amid the shower of rice, that night she went out a young bride ! Among these treasures is a tortoise-shell comb, around which the hair was piled in wondrous folds of rich profusion. One little curl of gray re- mains on a remembered face, a relic of former beauty not all yet faded. The engagement rings seldom were of diamond, but a plain circlet of gold, on which sometimes was inscribed the couplet :
" I hope in time You may be mine."
The wedding-ring did not often convey a large amount of worldly goods, but it was not the fickle
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bauble of fashion to be shifted with every change of fortune, but taken for better and for worse. The miniatures of the olden time reveal many striking forms and beautiful faces. Perhaps the artist flat- tered them. There were no sun-pictures to bring out the imperfections as in more recent days. But life then was just as real as now, having like virtues and vices, foibles and follies, cares and pleasures. As we look upon those who have survived them, we are looking as it were upon veterans who have come through many a conflict, or upon craft that have weathered many a storm. We may smile at their weaknesses and quaint ways, but let us think how it will be with ourselves when the next generation shall be retrospecting our age; bringing out from the attic our old hats and gowns, our stovepipe hats and flower-garden bonnets of all the colors of the rainbow, our stiff collars and pointed shoes. Some day the college professor will show to the students our clumsy steam-engines and dynamos, and the pop- ular lecturer will set the house in a roar with a de- scription of a modern girl whirling through the ave- nues on a bicycle, in bloomer costume. Our boasted triumphs will seem child's play to the twentieth- century savant.
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CHAPTER XVI.
COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE.
W E have read in an old album at Monroe the lines :
" In vain may old folks scold and watch, And barricade the house ; For surely Love the girls will catch, As cats do catch the mouse."
- EXPERIENCE.
We must not forget that these wrinkled faces and stooping forms were not always thus. A gleaming eye, a snowy curl, some relic, ribbon, or jewel, re- mind us that there was beauty then, and tender hearts, and hearts to love as well. There were quiet lanes, and narrow bridges over babbling brooks, where was "only room for twa." And bits of romance would find their way even into lives amid these rugged rocks and humble homes. The big fireplace - what a spot to woo and dream and forecast the future! The very mode of building the fire was an index of the skill of the hands ; the manner in which it burned an omen of the success of the future wife. The re- plenishment of the fuel and the stirring of the coals gave frequent occasion for mutual help and coopera- tion. The very crackle of the chestnut logs gave a name to the pleasant pastime. When the fire ceased
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to need attention, the youth would get out his jack- knife and whittle; and if the old man should look in, it would be to see if the whittling ultimated in any useful end. Thus he was carving his own destiny. And the maid would ply her needles and " widden or narrow," take up or drop a stitch, and give her answer to the burning question, according to the form it took, either sock or mitten. Rival lovers would try to sit one another out. A fine horse and buggy or cutter would give opportunity to promote the lover's scheme. With what vim they sang :
"Jingle, bells; jingle, bells; jingle all the way :
Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh!"
Often it would result in a ride to the parson's, or in a message to bring the parson to her door.
"I want you to marry me to this 'ere gal," said a swain to the minister. "But you seem to have two ; I can marry you only to one." "Oh, well, come into the parlor and I will tell you which one." The choice was made; the knot tied. Both knelt with their backs to the man of God, the groom disclosing a huge pair of brogans from his overcoat pocket. The ceremony over, he said : "I came away without my pocket-book; I will settle to-morrow." It is need- less to say to-morrow never came.
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