USA > Pennsylvania > Luzerne County > Plymouth > Reminiscences of Plymouth, Luzerne County, Penna.; a pen picture of the old landmarks of the town; the names of old residents; the manners, customs and descriptive scenes, and incidents of its early history > Part 2
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This diversion in the interests of the feathered tribe recalls an incident which perhaps will be of interest to naturalists. One day as I was approaching the house through the front yard, my attention was attracted to the peculiar antics of a small bird, flitting to and fro among the vines with drooping wings and apparently in distress. I walked towards it and came very near put- ting my hand on a big black snake which was coiled around the trunk of the vine some four or five feet above the ground. I stepped back and for a few moments watched the bird, which, with plaintive cry would every time come closer and closer, apparently fearing to ap- proach, yet powerless to resist. I shot the snake and threw it out on the grass, and for several hours after that bird would hop around and near it, acting precisely as it did in the vines, all the time making the same dole- ful cry. Was not that bird charmed by the snake? But to resume again the thread of my story; there, at the side of the house near the kitchen door and under the shade of a huge walnut tree, stood the old wooden pump with its long iron handle-"How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood." On that iron handle I once on a banter, "stuck" my tongue on a frosty morning; it stuck all right to my great sorrow.
On the easterly side and a few yards distant ran the Ransom Creek, which in my earliest recollections was a stream of clear water. There I used to play with
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
sail boats and water wheels, and there in early spring my father's sheep were brought to be washed and sheared. Among that flock of sheep I have reason to remember, was the "old ram," so well known to many men and boys whose great delight was to tease him in the pasture lot above the barn, and who thus became so ferocious that my father hung on his horns, covering his face and giving him a very grotesque appearance, a large piece of sole leather with small eyeholes cut in it, as a means of protective warning to strangers who might happen to come within his range.
On the north side of the house were the barns and sheds, to the right of which there was formerly an apple orchard, and a little farther up where tenement houses now stand was a beautiful grove of oak trees, where Sunday School picnics were sometimes held.
From the barnyard, a narrow lane, lined with mul- berry trees led up the hill into an apple orchard, near the east side of which, later, ran the old Washington plane; and in the lower corner of this orchard, under the shade of a large wild cherry tree, was located a small private burying ground of the Hodge family, for James Hodge had formerly lived in the homestead. This burial place filled with briar bushes and weeds, was surrounded by a rather dilapidated stone wall, and within it was a large tomb or vault, which in turn was surrounded with a wooden fence, the corner posts of which were sur- mounted with large wooden urns. This particular tomb always impressed me, when a boy, with a feeling of awe, and close beside it was another grave, on the head-stone of which I recall the horrifying inscription :
"Remember, friend, as you pass by,
As you are now, so once was I."
This graveyard is now entirely obliterated, not a
THE FRENCH HOMESTEAD
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
vestige of it remains; the dead, like the old, are in the way, and must make room for progress; and thus, like
"Imperial Caeser, dead and turned to clay, May stop a hole to keep the wind away."
Returning again to the homestead, on the westerly side and but a few feet distant, was a frame building built originally for a carriage house. This my father fitted up as a private school room for us children, under the tutelage of my elder sister. There being ample room, and no detriment to proper instruction thereby, a few of the neighbors' children were admitted as pupils. Of these, I recall the names of Mary and Ellen Garra- han, Esther and Isabel Bulkley, Sam McNulty, Wilson Wright and Hannah Miller, who worked for my grand- mother. This school was successfully continued for several years, and after its abandonment the building was converted into an office and private club room, where, under the leadership of W. Z. Hatcher, a near neighbor, Will and De Haven Lance, my brother and myself used to meet most every evening and practice as a string band. We had a flute, two or three violins, and a violin- cello, and made pretty good music. Those, indeed, were happy days.
On the opposite side of the road from the house was a one-story schoolhouse, but this I will describe in an- other chapter.
In the preceding descriptions, as in those to follow, I have endeavored to picture the old town as I remem- ber it many years ago. The intervening spaces between the buildings mentioned, have, in many instances, since been solidly built up.
CHAPTER III.
Col. Ransom's Homestead-His Capture by Indians-Ira Ran- som-The "Swing Gate"-School Boy's Pranks-Old Sucker Hole - Round Stakes - Thos. Davenport's House - Ira Davenport-His Store-Post Office-Mails and Stage Coach -John and Elijah Davenport-Cider Press-John B. Smith's House-Jessop's Hotel-Chas. Water's Shoe Shop-Samuel Davenport's Store-Chauncey Reynolds' House-Albert Ga- briel-C. E. Young-Turner's Tannery-"Aunt" Fanny Turner-Turner's Store-Wadham's Store-The M. E. Church-Old Kingston Church.
C ROSSING Ransom's Creek to the eastward, and near its grass covered bank, under the shade of sturdy old oaks, stood the large red dwelling house of that old revolutionary veteran, "Col." George P. Ran- som, and of which only the depression in the ground to mark the place which was once the cellar is now in evi- dence. This house faced broadside to the roadway with a wide doorway in the center, in the entrance of which hung one or two rifles with their necessary accoutrements of powder horns and leather pouches, together with some relics of the hunter's skill in the form of buck's horns. To the rear, and a little to one side under a large oak, was a small stone dairy or milk house supplied with a running stream of clear cold water which served the pur- pose of a refrigerator. Further up the creek was a long, one and a half story double dwelling house, occupied at one time by Edward (Neddy) Crowell, and a black- smith named Fletcher. It was also, I think, known as the "Black John House." In front, at one side of the Ransom house, and near the roadside, there was an open wagonshed where the old Colonel's pony coach was kept. On the opposite side of the road stood the barn with a long open cow shed, at the side.
My earliest recollection of Colonel Ransom was when he walked with two canes, the possession of which
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I have been told, I would cry for. He would drive out with a pair of ponies hitched to an open-top conveyance of the buckboard style, but in his later years he was con- fined during the day to a roller chair under the charge of Charles (Mutt) Barber, who would attend to his wants in preparing his tobacco-of which he was an in- veterate user-in the form of convenient sized quids, and seeing that the whiskey bottle was kept filled. I remember that one evening, when I was a small boy, my aunt took me over to call on him for the purpose of hearing him relate his adventures with the Indians; of how he, and some of his comrades, while visiting some girl friends were captured in a house which stood on the upper side of the road near the spot where Whitman's shoe store now stands; of their journey to Canada, their subsequent escape therefrom, and the difficulties and pri- vations they underwent while travelling through the forests in making their way homeward. These tales were of thrilling interest to me, and were only marred by his extreme reticence in the telling, and his very vigor- ous expectoration efforts as he sat in his arm-chair in front of the huge open fire-place. He died in 1850, aged about 90 years. I was present at his burial, which took place with military honors in the old Shupp burying ground. His son, Ira, a brave veteran of the late war of the rebellion, and now upwards of 92 years of age, is still living in good health on his farm in Jackson town- ship; a remarkable and probably unparalleled instance in the county, if not in the State, of a living, real "son of the Revolution."
Coming on further up the street on the same side, on a knoll at the intersection of Coal and Main Streets, and on the spot now occupied by the store building of the late Edwin Davenport, stood the little one-story frame
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
schoolhouse which was afterwards removed further down the street. Directly in front of the schoolhouse was the "swinggate," which closed the flat road during the growing and harvest season from the depredations of vagrant cattle and swine. This road led straight down to "Garrison Hill," where was always a thrifty growth of willows, and to which place the boys of the school would be sent by the teacher to get his supply of chastisement rods. Sometimes these would be so in- geniously twisted, or perforated before delivery, as to make their stinging qualities less painful. Continuing straight down to the river was the old "sucker hole," where, in early spring, was always to be found a dozen or more enthusiastic fishermen with poles and lines fish- ing for suckers.
There being considerable space in the roadway be- tween the schoolhouse and the swing gate that was a favorite spot on which men and boys would meet to play "round stakes," which was the original baseball game. In these contests, Eb. and Dow Rinus, both wiry ath- letes, were always the star players, and with one of them at the bat and the other as pitcher, there was always some lively action. Dow, by the way, was a very expert fiddler; he played entirely by air, and his services were always in great demand at the country dances. On the lefthand side of the entrance to the flat road was the barn and sheds of Oliver Davenport, with the usual com- plement of grain and hay stacks surrounding.
On the hill past the schoolhouse next came the old house with its high stone steps in front, the former resi- dence, I believe, of Thomas Davenport. My first recol- lection of this building was when, as a small boy, I at- tended the funeral there of some young man, which was conducted under the auspices of the Odd Fellows. The
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
new and splendid brick silk factory of the Atwood's now occupies the site of this building. A little further on, is the brick dwelling house of the late Ira Davenport. I believe this, and the one occupied by the late R. N. Smith a little farther up, were the first brick dwellings to be erected in Plymouth, unless possibly the one where Sam- uel Davenport lived. The next one, I think, was the hotel built by John Nesbitt on Elm Hill, and now occu- pied by George B. Shonk, and the first brick store to be erected in town was that of E. C. Wadhams. Directly in front of Ira Davenport's house was the old Daven- port barn and sheds, and on the same side and farther east, still stands his store established in 1845. The space between this and the Flat road and extending down that road some distance, is now almost solidly built up with frame houses, conspicuous by the generous number of beer saloons therein.
Davenport's store in my boyhood days was one of the prominent places "downtown." It was Democratic headquarters, and there in the evening would assemble the patriots of the neighborhood who would line up on the counters, spit tobacco juice, swap stories and discuss politics and town scandal generally. It was, I think, during the administration of President Pierce that the post office was removed here from the store of Draper Smith in the upper end of town. Postage on letters in those days was five cents prepaid, or ten cents on de- livery. Letters were so folded as to form their own en- velope and were sealed with wax or a wafer, and when forwarded by the postmaster, they were wrapped up in paper in bundles according to destination, and so labelled. Ira's method of registering a letter, which was a rare occurrence, was simply to mark on it "Registered," and the act was performed. The mail was transported by
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
stage coach. At each post office it was sorted and changed, that is, the mail sack was emptied and all mail for that particular office was taken out and replaced by that which was to be forwarded.
The stage coach from down river points usually came up in the early evening at intervals of two or three days, and on summer evenings, occasionally one of our diver- sions would be to hang on the "boot" behind and ride up, sometimes as far as Elm Hill, which was a tremend- ous distance. The distance from the bridge over Ran- som's Creek to the one over Brown's Creek was con- sidered exactly one mile.
Ira Davenport was one of the most prominent and influential men of the town; strictly honest and open hearted; he enjoyed a good joke and was not averse to making a little fun. He took a very active interest in all public affairs and for many years held several positions of public trust-and no profit. He was careful, conser- vative, and conscientious in all his acts, and not being crooked himself, he would not permit crookedness in others if he could prevent it. He was a safe man in office for the people, and it would be a God-send, if to- day his example in that respect would be followed by many others.
Continuing our travels, the next house in order of procession was the residence of John Davenport, the father of Ira and Elijah. It was a two-story frame building with a wide porch in the rear, and in the yard on the west side was a water trough supplied with run- ning water from a spring which also supplied another public trough at the roadside, and in the rear on one side was a small building equipped with a weaving loom, and on the other side and near the porch was the wash- house. On the east side was the barn, and beyond that,
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
and nearby the house of John B. Smith was the old cider press which was made use of every fall by many of the residents.
The old Davenport homestead was subsequently re- placed by a more modern one and occupied by Elijah Davenport during his lifetime. It is now occupied by the family of Joseph Worthington, his son-in-law. The next house is the Smith house, before mentioned, and a little beyond, about where Blair Street is located, stood an old frame house broadside to the road, with a stoop or porch extending the whole length of the building, and which I believe was the former homestead of Daniel Davenport. My most distinct recollection of this build- ing was when it was occupied by Mr. Renshaw, the father of Theodore.
Almost directly in front of this building on the lower side of the road was an open and shallow well, and close by, but further up, was a large barn, and on the site of this, or perhaps a little above, was later built the hotel which for a number of years was kept by John Jessop and his wife. The Jessops moved here from down the river, from about opposite Retreat, where for a long time they had kept a hotel, and which, like that of "Aunt" Lizzie Tuttle's at West Nanticoke, were noted hostelries for travellers passing up and down the river. On the same side, and a little further up, there used to stand a small one-story building used as a shoemaker's shop and conducted by Charles Waters. Near this site was later built the wagonmaker's shop of J. B. Blakeslee, and just above was a blacksmith's shop.
Nearly all this space, where frogs and burdocks used to thrive, down to Ira Davenport's store, is now about solidly built up with frame buildings, in which beer saloons are much in evidence, and it is very difficult to locate the place of old landmarks.
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
On the upper corner of Davenport and Main Streets there was formerly a frame store building with a wide doorway built on the corner of the building, and was occupied by Samuel Davenport, the father of Abijah, and was established in 1834. This building burned down when I was quite a small boy, and another similar one was erected on the opposite corner, which was kept, first, by Samuel Davenport and John B. Smith, then by John B. Smith, and later, by Abijah Davenport.
Coming on further up was the stately looking man- sion of Chauncey Reynolds, with a row of big trees in front, which at certain seasons of the year emitted a peculiar and rather sickly odor. This house was located just below the wooden bridge which crossed, what Colo- nel Wright in his history calls the Whittlesey Creek, but is now known as the Wadham's Creek. Diagonally op- posite, and above the bridge was the blacksmith shop of Albert Gabriel, one of the prominent men of Plymouth. He was the son of Henry Gabriel who, as a boy in Sep- tember, 1818, in company of my father, then fifteen years of age, came here from Milford, Connecticut, with the family of John Flanigan. The party travelled with a two-horse covered wagon, the men walking, and were eleven days on the road.
A little farther down, on the corner of a road leading to the river, was the house of Charles E. Young. This house is yet standing, but changed in appearance; his son, L. A. Young, is one of the prominent merchants of Plymouth.
Further up the street, and about opposite where John B. Smith's Opera House now stands, was the frame store building of Chauncey Reynold's, which I don't think was conducted as a store very long. Mr. Reynolds was a very eccentric man, and as a storekeeper was in a class
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
all by himself. He was not very particular as to the manner in which his dry-goods were placed on his shelves, one end sometimes being on the counter and the other on the shelf. It was said of him that a cus- tomer who had purchased a pair of boots and wanted some molasses, but had nothing to carry it in, he solved the difficulty by putting the molasses in the boots. This may be an exaggeration. He had one son, Lazarus, who died in his young manhood.
Further up, and on the same side of the road was the Turner "tan house," with the tannery and vats in the rear. I have seen hides from these vats hanging to dry on the fences along the main road and extending down to the river. A little further up we come to the old Atherton barn, and next, the frame dwelling house of "Aunt" Fanny Turner, which is still standing. She was a good and clever old maiden lady who was known to most all, and who had lived there from my earliest recol- lection. Directly opposite this was the store of John Turner, first established in 1828, afterwards conducted by his sons, Franklin and James, under the firm name of Turner Brothers. This store was one of the earliest and most prominent stores of the town, and was con- ducted by the Turners for many years. The building is yet standing. Just above the store is the Turner home- stead building, and below it, west, on the corner of the road leading to Turner's Ferry, is the one-story building with basement which was occupied when I was a boy by a family, I think, named Henry. John Madden also lived there at one time, and he kept a tailor's shop in a little building just below this, in which, at a later date, lived Thomas Wright. This tailor shop was afterwards for a number of years used as a millinery store.
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On the same side of the road and a few yards be- low was another old landmark known as the old Ather- ton house. It was a large two-story building, but has now disappeared. Now, again continuing up the road, next comes the historic old Academy on the corner of Main and Academy Streets; this I will leave to describe in another chapter. Just above the Academy is yet standing the brick store building of the late Elijah C. Wadhams. This store as has been previously noted was one of the earliest brick buildings to be erected in the town. It was built some time not long prior to the year 1850, and was first occupied by Mr. Wadhams and Ful- ler Reynolds under the firm name of Wadhams and Reynolds, and Sterling Bedford was their clerk. This firm was dissolved after a few years and the business was continued by Mr. Wadhams, who was also engaged in the business of mining coal, until some time about the year 1880, when it was occupied by Messrs Ashley, Hunt & Co., until within the last two years. The second story of this building was for many years occupied as a lodge room by Shawnee Lodge of Odd Fellows, and by Ply- mouth Masonic Lodge.
Directly opposite this store was the Methodist Epis- copal Church, the first church building-except the Acad- emy-I believe, to have been erected in Plymouth. This church was later torn down to give room for the present handsome structure. The original building was taken to Forty-Fort by John B. Smith, and there set up by him in its original form, and dedicated as an independent church, and later it was destroyed by fire. It is a some- what singular coincidence that the Methodist Church of Plymouth should be removed to Forty-Fort, and the old Presbyterian Church of Kingston, not far distant there- from, and which was an old landmark of that town,
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should be removed to Plymouth and set up on Franklin Street by the Primitive Methodist congregation, and that both these buildings should burn down. This old Kings- ton church I remember when as a boy, some time about the years 1844-5 or 1846, I attended Sunday School there, my parents having moved to Kingston for a short time about that period in order to receive the advan- tages of the Wyoming Seminary. That church, as I re- member it, had very high back box pews with doors, a gallery on both sides and rear, and the customary two- story pulpit.
The present Methodist Church was erected in 1876. Just below this church, on the site now occupied by the Methodist Episcopal parsonage, stood for a number of years a two-story frame, private schoolhouse, which was removed sometime about 1890 by the Episcopal congre- gation, to their lot on Academy Street for use as a chapel.
Just above the Wadhams' store, still stands his former homestead, which was erected by a man named Bennett some time about the year 1852. After it had been va- cated by Mr. Wadhams, it was transformed into a hotel and conducted respectively by A. M. Jeffords and John A. Gruver. It is now used as a dwelling.
CHAPTER IV.
Old M. E. Parsonage-Donation parties-H. Gaylord's Home- stead-Old Store-James Macfarlane-First National Bank -Conrad Shafer-Draper Smith's Store-F. E. Spry-Par- dee and Winters-C. L. Farnum-Jos. Preston-C. A. Kuschke-Gaylord's Store-Capt. Asher Gaylord-Gaylord's Railroad and Wharf-Dietrick's Hotel-Samuel Turner- James McAlarney-Eli Bittenbender-Querin Krothe- Noah Wadham's Homestead-Andrew Shupp-Geo. P. Richard's-"Squire" Brown-Nesbitt Homstead-Old Scenes -Elm Hill and Tree-John J. Shonk-Olewine-Culver- "Sammy" Gould.
O N the opposite side of the road from the Wad- ham's store building, and near where the late Parrish Coal Company tresseling crosses the road to the breaker, for many years stood a small two-story frame building which was used as the Methodist parsonage, and where annually, as was the custom with country churches in early days, was held the old-fashioned dona- tion parties. These events were always looked forward to as a kind of red letter day in the calendar. The friends, young and old, from far and near, would gather there on these occasions; the elders during the daytime and the young people in the evening for a good time; each one bringing their contribution of money, or some article of family consumption, such as sugar, tea, coffee, flour, bread, cakes, etc .; usually more provisions than money, and as a feast was always expected on these occa- sions, naturally much of the donated provisions vanished with the guests. In this connection, I recall a story I once read which illustrates the utilitarian virtues of these beneficial jamborees; it is about a donation party which was tendered to a young country minister and his bride. Most all of the donors on that occasion brought as their contribution a pan full of biscuits, and after the young wife had shed copious tears over the situation, she per-
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Reminiscences of Plymouth, Pa.
suaded her husband that the only appropriate use they could make of the hard crusted offerings would be to ornament the tops of the pickets surrounding their house with them. Near by this house and by the roadside, stood a large barn, and on the opposite side a little farther up still stands the mansion house of Henderson Gaylord, one of the early and most respected residents of the town. This is now occupied as a residence by Alexander Ferguson and Dr. G. R. Drake.
Nearly opposite this building, or about on the site of where now stands the residence of the late Mrs. Levi, there was formerly a small one-story building where I remember when a small boy of having gotten cream nuts from Draper Smith, who kept a small store in it. This was probably the store mentioned by Colonel Wright in his history of Plymouth, as the store where Joseph Wright, Benjamin Reynolds and Joel Rogers did business, and which was opened in 1812. On the corner just below this spot is the building now owned by the Stegmaier Brewing Company, where at one time lived James Macfarlane, the father of Mrs. Jeanette Lindsay and Thomas P. Macfarlane. He sunk the shaft which is just below the Chauncey Colliery at Avondale. In the upper end of this building was organized and instituted in 1864 the First National Bank of Plymouth, with Henderson Gaylord as President and William L. Wilson as Cashier. On the site of this building there formerly stood a small two-story frame dwelling house where, in the early 50's lived Conrad Shafer. He was a butcher, and his slaughterhouse was a small barn which stood on the river bank about where the Atlantic Refining Com- pany's oil house is now located. He used to drive a mar- ket wagon through town during the summer season, be- hind a dashing pair of fast horses with sleigh bells, and was, I believe, the pioneer butcher of Plymouth.
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