USA > Vermont > Windham County > Brattleboro > Brattleboro, Windham County, Vermont; early history, with biographical sketches of some of its citizens > Part 27
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"The honey bees in England," he said, "are big as the sheep in this country, but the hives are about the same size as used here." "When at work with my axe on the mountain," said he, "I was attacked by a big snake that measured, after I had . killed and straightened him out, just six- teen axe-helves long." It was as impos- sible to get an abatement of one axe-helve from the measure of that snake, as to get from farmer W. a reduction of one bug from the "eight bushels of squash bugs, potato measure," found by him, as he de- clared, when tearing away an old barn.
Jimmie claimed to be a native of old England, and he evidently felt superior to the natives here who were laborers like himself. In hair-breadth escapes and thrilling experiences he rivalled old Sin- bad, of Eastern romance. There was an air of earnestness and seriousness in his manner, when relating the events of his life, that would doubtless have generated more faith in the minds of those who listened to his narratives if he had regarded the old admonition,
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"Lest men suspect your tale untrue, Keep probabilities in view."
The history of his advent here will be best given, as well as we can remember, in his own words:
"When some weeks on the voyage from England to this country, our ship was leaking so badly we could not save her, and to save myself I got inside of a large hogshead. The cooper headed me in and the waves cast me ashore. The bung of the cask loosened by sunshine and I pushed out and grabbed the tail of an ox. The frightened animal dragged me over a ledge, the cask broke open and up jumped Jim- mie."
His wife, Sukie, made mops, husk door- mats, and told ladies' fortunes to order ; but she was a poor financier. Her price for reading the book of fate was a small package of green tea. When the summer was in prime many small packages, wafted by white dresses and enclosed by jewelled fingers, passed over Chapin's island to the shrine of Sukie. To the Brattleboro fair of doubtful age, feeding on blue clay and the illusions of hope, there was an unac- countable charm in the ugly, pox-marked, tripe-like face of their oracle. Her emi- nence in ugliness constituted, perhaps, her popularity as an oracle. A company of quite plain looking girls never appeared so attractive as when standing beside old Sukie. We will allow them credit for sagacity transcending their aspirations of receiving light from Sukie's yellow teacup. The cunning creatures understood the value of comparison; willingly did they accompany eligible and desirable young beaus to this little cot on the mountain, who would "look on this picture and then on that."
In 1833 some people then living in this place caused the erection of a new building for Jimmie and Sukie. Col. Paul Chase, proprietor of the old stage house, and Mr. McKean, the first high school teacher, especially interested themselves in this matter, and Mr. McKean went over the river with his nail-hammer, to help shingle the house. A few years after this event the house was destroyed by fire, and from injuries thereby received, Olive, their idiotic child, died. At this time age and infirmity "hadi nearly finished their work N
upon the aged couple; but Col. Chase did not desert them in this extremity. With his own carriage he brought them to this
1 side of the river, where his personal super- intendence was given to their wants, and every needful provision made for their comfort up to the last moment of their lives.
"BLACK SAM,"
So called, came here from Bennington about 1823, and was at one period the only representative of the colored race in this place. From that circumstance alone he was conspicuous. He was much of the time in the employ of Francis Goodhue, Esq., but when he was under the influence of stimulants his employment was less lucrative though more amusing. Upon such occasions his powers of imitation were largely developed. The sentiments and exact tones of the voice of his subject was given at the street corners, or where- ever he could find an audience. He gave imitations of animals, but he especially delighted in showing off the magnates of Brattleboro; and his patron was not ex- cepted in these laughable exhibitions of his peculiar faculty. Sam was bound to have some fun, and he generally succeeded in accomplishing his object. He did not bind his talent in a napkin, but did all lie could to improve his own and other peo- ple's digestion.
Poor sensitive, suffering JOHNSON, THE RIIYMER,
Or bard, to whom we have elsewhere alluded more definitely, rarely smiled. Not a day passed when he did not have a grievance, some record of abuse or charge against some one, to send up to the high court of heaven. Homeless as he was, and wandering in abject poverty from house to house, and passing the long winter nights in a stable, caused some observers of his condition to advise him to apply to the town for relief. Upon one such occasion he replied, "Don't fret yourself about me. I lodge in a more comfortable place than General Washington did when he was sur- veying in the forest; and when he was fighting the battles of his country I guess he would have sometimes been glad to find as good a place as Mead's barn to sleep in. If my shoes do let in the water, there is as good a chance for it to run out as there is
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for it to get in, and there is as good a chance now for you to mind your own business as there ever will be."
"JOHN DOVER,"
Who came here about 1840, was a serious oddity, and always in a hurry. His almost constant employment was sawing wood with a very short, quick movement of the saw, and his utterances perfectly accorded with said movement. His reply to any question was prefaced with the word God, repeated very rapidly many times. H knew Alfred Ellis was the most eminent fisherman in town, and it may be he in- tended to take away his well-earned laurels. This much is certain; John, in his latter days, spent much time fishing in divers places. One morning he caught, at the mouth of West river, an enormous pike. Passing through Main street with his val- uable prize, much attention was excited, congratulations offered and inquiries made of the fortunate fisherman. With the usual preface John replied, "Can't tell, can't tell; if he hadn't thought 'twas Alf. Ellis' hook never should catched him in God's world."
John belonged to one of the two classes of men in Brattleboro who do not
"Keep their eyelids closed And waste their hours in bed."
As a general rule, smart, thriving men are not of the 3 o'clock in the afternoon sort; they are early risers in the morning. Men of an exactly opposite character do the same, as some hotel bar-keepers could tes- tify. Now it is not necessary to say John was of the class last mentioned; but we will give him the credit of being an early riser, and giving important testimony as to the merits of Mead's snow statue. Near the snow-lined pathway in which he was walking, with a wood saw, to his task, stood, in all its commanding, wondrous beauty, the "Recording Angel," fresh from the creator's hand. Fearfully he gazed upon the silent monitor and then, giving it as wide a berth a possible, ran with all his might until well out of supposed dan- ger, when he exclaimed, "It's a devil or ghost, I don't know which!" After living in this town about twenty-eight years, poor John died in the arms of public char- ity at the town poor farm of Brattleboro.
EDWARD GOULD.
With slender, bent form and shuffling, dragging step-the motion of his body like that of a ship in a high sea, and apparently as insensible to surroundings,-this queer specimen of humanity was for many years almost daily seen in our streets, to as late a period as 1869. He was peaceable and inoffensive under great provocations; but when he heard from a crowd of school boys, "Ed Gould stole a knot hole, a post hole, and he stole squashes in the blow," his anger was aroused to a fearful pitch. He was often shamefully treated and made the subject of ridicule. The boys, delight- ed to find a vulnerable point in the armor of his good nature, teased and tor mented poor Ed. until he often became completely exhausted in vain efforts to punish them for libel and clear up his character. It was not, we have charity to believe, inten- tional cruelty on the part of the boys, but it was their natural, almost insatiable love of fun that nearly wore out this poor, un- fortunate being. The veteran frog, as stated in ancient fable, exactly explained the situation amidst a shower of stones. Deficient as he was in the qualities needful to command respect, he seldom, if ever, failed to give a correct answer when the question was, "What is the day of the month?" He also gave exercises in sing- ing, spelling and preaching. If a chair, box or barrel was furnished him for a ros- trum, he never declined when invited to address the few or many. These efforts, it has been said, "were enough to make a colt break his halter." They were often unintentional burlesques, more character- ized by entertainment than by instruction, yet some gifted men of high intellectual attainments will ever lack the important qualifications-assurance, energy and earn- estness-as displayed by Ed. Gould from the last head left in an empty flour barrel. "The Scolding Wife" was the song best adapted to his operatic abilities-his high- est accomplishments in vocal music. In the chorus-
"It is her heart's delight To bang me with a fire shovel Around the room at night"-
a very proper sympathy was excited for the unfortunate husband in this age of female domination. When the song of "Brave Wolfe" was called for, the whole
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air and manner of the singer changed. The smacking together of clenched hands, the fire and indignation, in singing the grievances of the unhappy subject of pet- ticoat despotism ceased, and in soft, plain- tive tones was heard :
"Love is a diamond ring, long time I've kept it, "Tis for your sake, my love, if you'll accept it. And then this gallant youth did cross the ocean, To free America from her invasion.
The drums did loudly beat, the guns did rattle; Brave Wolfe lay on his back, "How goes the battle?" I went to see, my love, 'twas in my favor;
"Oh then," replied brave Wolfe, "I die with pleas- ure."
Then the cannon on our side did roar like thunder, "And, have yer got eny terbacker with ye?"
"Be yer goin' to use that pipe for a few minutes?"
HIS LECTURE ON MILLERISM .- "Now my Christian Friends, Rumsellers, Ter- backer-chewers and Sabbath-breakers, you don't believe the world will all burn up next year, because you don't want to be- lieve it; and that ain't all, you don't want a stop put to your deviltry. You are as bad as the folks was more "than 40 years ago, when old Noah built his yark. When he told the folks the water was goin' to rise high as Chesterfield mountain and drown 'em all out, they didn't believe it, but they abused him, and made fun of him, and yer see how they got paid for it. Noah flew round like a house afire after stuff to build his yark. He went to Texas, Hinsdale and Chesterfield to buy lumber. He got some of his best sticks down to Jarro Bur- rows' mill, in Vernon; and farmer Wood with his stags did the teaming for nine- pence a perch. He got all the nails at Hall's store and paid for 'em in sheep pelts and dried apples. He hadn't but just got his yark done when the rain come down
like pitchforks. But folks wouldn't be- lieve Noah when the water was knee deep in Main street. Noah see how 'twas, and he opened the door and told 'em they bet- ter git aboard while they could; but they said it wasn't much of a shower, and soon over; then they began to yell and hoot, and the tarnal school boys snow-balled him so he had to go in and shut the door. But you know it wasn't long afore they wished he would open that door agin and take 'em aboard. This time the fishes will all be killed, and a yark such as Noah had wouldn't do yer any good. Nothin' will save ye now but to believe what I tell you,
and being so good, the fire won't burn ye more'n t'will Hinsdale red oak. We must all stop being sinners. I have been a sin- ner myself. I stole rum from Hartwell Bills and denied it when they laid it to me. I went to court the Pierce girl and pre- tended all I wanted was a drink of water. I was a lying scamp and I've been sorry for it a good many times, and I shan't do so again next time I see her."
Ed. obtained some of the ideas from which this lecture was constructed by at- tending Millerite meetings at the Chapel on Canal street, in 1842. One of the preach- ers at the series of meetings held there at that time usually, when commencing his services, took off his coat and cravat. While disrobing himself to his shirtsleeves, he said to the audience, "Thank God, I know what it is to work for my living. I have laid many rods of stone wall in my day, but I have done with all such work forever. I have but one task before me, and that is of short duration. I shall never again visit my earthly home, for before I finish the work assigned me, before I can complete the circle marked out for me, the last great day will surely come and all the things in this world will burn up or melt with fervent heat. This mountain of rocks, now clad in the varied colors of autumnal beauty, will, before another autumn, melt down into the river and kill all the fish. Please to sing,
'You can't stand the fire In that great day.'"
In an atmosphere charged with fumes of burning sulphur, a large share of the audi- ence, judging from the sound, kept time with the singing by stamping their feet. Chipman Swain, Esq., our deputy sheriff, appeared in the sacred desk, on the left side of the preacher, and requested there be no more manifestations of disrespect for the services. He reminded all present of Vermont law, its impartiality in protecting all religious sects, and the penalties for persons who in any manner disturb assem- blies gathered for religious worship. The tall, commanding form, authority, and very proper remarks of this executive ofli- cer prevented, it may be, the riotous oppo- sition or persecution needful for the pros- perity of this sect in Brattleboro. The awfully solemn words of the stone wall
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preacher fell mostly upon stony ground, and since this event more than thirty times has old Chesterfield mountain put on her annual gala dress, as in days of yore, while upon Ed. devolved the task to keep green the memories of the prophets by his ora- torical efforts in the public streets.
At the conclusion of a lecture on phre- nology, Ed. and "Jess Marsh" were per- suaded to become subjects for examination by the lecturer before the audience. The next morning Ed. said, "They wouldn't let the phrenologer man tech us 'till they put a hankercher on my face and a han- kercher on Jess' face. The phrenologer said we was both fools, but Jess was the biggest fool, 'cause he didn't know it, and I did."
One evening in a crowded meeting house, not very well lighted, Ed. was seated list- ening to a revival sermon from an itiner- ant minister. Immediately after the ser- mon, an invitation was given to all uncon- verted persons desiring prayers to occupy the "anxious seat." The reverend gentle- man, depending upon his sagacity to de- tect mental emotion from appearances, left the pulpit, and by making personal applications, as he moved among the peo- ple, some persons went forward who other- wise would not, probably, have presented themselves. The serious, humble appear- ing Ed., as he sat with downcast eyes, at- tracted the attention of the vigilant shep- herd. "My friend," said the preacher, as he grasped Ed. by the hand, "Is Christ precious to your soul?" The great, prom- inent blue eyes of Ed. opened wide with a vacant stare as he replied, "Wal, I dun know; guess it's pretty good plan." The faithful watchman said no more,
"But with a sigh moved slow along."
HOTELS.
THE OLD BRATTLEBORO HOUSE,
Known in the past generation at one period as "Smith's" and at another time as "Chase's Stage House," was built by Sam- uel Dickinson, in 1795, and was destroyed by fire in October, 1869. Dickinson mar- ried Hannah Whitney, a sister of Hon. Lemuel Whitney. After he left the hotel he built the house on Flat street afterwards owned by James Frost, where he died May 15, 1817. In Prospect Hill Cemetery we
have found his monument, with the follow- ing inscription :
"Beneath the sacred honors of the tomb, In awful silence and majestic gloom, The man of mercy here conceals his head, Amidst the solemn mansions of the dead. No more his lib'ral hand shall help the poor, Relieve distress, and scatter joy no more."
From 1795 to 1869 the hotel has been conducted by Sam'l Dickinson, Salem Sum- ner, Erastus Dickinson, John R. Blake, Maj. Henry Smith, Col. Paul Chase, Lem'l Whitney, William C. Perry, Charles C. Lawrence, and at some period by a gentle- man from Troy, N. Y., whose name we are not able to give. The property was owned at one period by Francis Goodhue, who erected the front gable and made some other alterations; but at the time of its destruction it was the property of the Blake Brothers, of Boston, Mass., who sold the land on which the buildings stood to E. Crosby, or Crosby & Rice, and the well-known "Crosby Block" now occupies the site of the old Brattleboro House, which was built 85 years ago. Built so long ago, and in almost constant use for the public accommodation seventy-four years, this hotel was more extensively known and better remembered abroad than any other building of its time in this place. Standing through all the wars excepting that of the Revolution, what a story of the long vanished years must be associated with it! If it had a voice or record to tell us of the now buried generations and in- teresting events of its time, we should have a more complete history of this town than any person now. living can furnish. We can sift over some ashes of its past, find here and there a gem or historical fact; but of the many sad and glad memories asso- ciated with it, we can know but little.
Of those known to fame who in early life began their career by rendering services as bar-tender, office clerk, or occupying some subordinate position here, were: E. Fessenden, William Chamberlin and Sim- eon Leland. Fessenden is a native of this town, but for many years has been a noted citizen of Hartford, Ct., where he has suc- cessfully filled important offices in that city, and among them, president of the Phoenix Life Insurance Company. Chamberlin . was an eminent wholesale merchant in New York, and began business in that city by retailing goods from a wheelbarrow, on a
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capital of but $100, and that was lent to him by Maj. Henry Smith, who was at the time keeping the old stage-house here. The fame of Leland, as a man of enterprise and success, reaches from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Judging from the palatial hotels he has reared as if by magic, he must have found, in some dark corner of this old house, or elsewhere, the wonder- ful lamp of Aladdin.
About the time of the last war with Britain it was the custom to roll into that big bar-room a hogshead of old West India rum, and supply customers from the fau- cet. Years ago we heard Erastus Dickin- son (nephew of Samuel Dickinson) say, "I paid over $300 for a hogshead of old rum, and after it was on draft in the bar- room it was, by good judges, declared a superior article. It immediately acquired so excellent a reputation it would not stay with me, and in a little over one week it all left me." Probably more than a dozen such houses could be built by the money here expended in hogsheads of rum, fourth of July dinners, training day and other gala day feasts, diffusing a sweetness on the air a la the
"Wonderful savor of pastry and pies That night from St. Gore's butteries."
The only hall in the village for public gatherings was in this house. It was ded- icated in 1816, by feasting and dancing. Cap't Sam'l Betterly of Newfane-just mar- ried-was there with his bride, and others from out of town participated in the fes- tivities on this occasion. Joseph Steen, Esq., our eldest native citizen (1880), and Judge Whitney joined in the dance, and Mr. Steen, by his activity upon the floor, completely wore out his new pumps bought for this eventful night. "While joy was unconfined, and youth and pleasure met," intelligence circulated in the gay company that Mrs. Barber-a general favorite and highly respected-had just breathed her last. The sad feeling in the company from this event, and respect for the de- ceased, suggested a discontinuance of the exercises, but Judge Whitney said, "Let the dead bury the dead. On with the dance !! "
vicinity completely wild with their excel- lent acting in this hall. The plays con- tinued so many days or weeks it was thought by some to be a permanent insti- tution, as in Boston or New York. The fate of the beautiful Desdemona excited general sympathy and brought copious tears from-then in life's morning-our prospective grandmothers. The play of "George Barnwell, the London appren- tice," was, for moral effect, equal to a camp-meeting sermon. Upon the handbill announcing the play, or tragedy, was the following caption:
"How wretched is the man who's wise too late! By my example learn to shun my fate," etc.
Underneath the foregoing was an engrav- ing representing poor Barnwell hanging by the neck upon a gallows, as an example of being "wise too late." Wisdom, as per- sonified in Scripture, said, "seek me early and ye shall find me," but for late seekers for wisdom no encouragement is given. When wisdom comes too late we do just as well without it, as exemplified in the fate of Barnwell. That sermon, though from a theatrical company, at the old stage house in the long ago, has never yet, we believe, been surpassed in any pulpit in this town.
With the exception of D. P. Kingsley of Springfield, Mass., we believe the old stage proprietors who once made this house their home, are none of them living. Many now living here remember Asher Spencer, Lovell Farr and Kingsley, formerly a part- ner of Mr. Spencer. Shepherd Pond, the last of the old stage drivers we remember, is yet living (1880), we learn, in Beuning- ton, Vt.
Col. Paul Chase served several years as high sheriff of the county, and Maj. Heury Smith was chosen his successor to that office. They were agents of the old lottery organization, chartered for the benefit of Horatio Knight, about 1826. Messrs. Chase and Smith occupied conspicuous positions in society, and their families, as to intelligence, influence and respectabil- ity, were in the front rauk.
THE VERMONT HOUSE,
Which from 1828 to 1857 stood where is now the Town Hall and the Episcopal Church, was a common wooden dwelling
Many years ago a theatrical company from the city made the whole village and | house of two stories, until fitted up for a
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hotel by Willard Pomroy, in 1828. His brother, Chester W. Pomroy, was the first proprietor. He was succeeded by Hiram and Alonzo Joy, and others, whose names do not occur to us; but Capt. T. C. Lord was the last owner and proprietor. He took away the old wooden house, and in 1849-50 erected, in place of it, a hand- some brick front of three stories. It was destroyed by fire in February, 1851, and never rebuilt. At the same time "Wan- tastiquet Hall," built in the rear of this hotel, by Hon. Calvin Townsley, was de- stroyed. The hotel was owned by Col. Calvin Townsley, and sold by him to Capt. Lord after 1840. Capt. Lord died but a short time-a few weeks-before the fire. He was a popular hotel keeper and captain of the "Lafayette Light Infantry." A mil- itary company from the city of Lowell, Mass., was induced by Capt. Lord to visit Brattleboro, in 1847-8. They had glorious weather and a fine time. Accompanied by Capt. Lord's infantry, they ascended the mountain east of the village. The hydro- pathic institution of Dr. Wesselhæft was then in its palmiest days, and the patients had built a house of logs upon the highest point of the mountain, three stories in height. There were projections from each story wide enough to stand upon, and a flat roof. The soldiers and brass bands of music completely filled the projections of the house and occupied the flat roof. They played several marches we could hear from the village distinctly, and we could also plainly see the bright glare of the brass in- struments reflected by the sun. The effect was beautiful and decidedly pleasing. The house, soon after this rare event, was burned down by one of the annual fires on the mountain. Capt. Lord at this time could not accommodate one-half of his applicants for hotel fare, and many private houses were opened for visitors from abroad.
Between 1846 and 1860-a period of four- teen or fifteen years-celebrities of both sexes were frequently seen riding or walk- ing in our streets. Of such, whose names occur to us, were Henry W. Longfellow, Count La Porte, professor in Harvard, but in 1830 Minister of Finance under Charles X. of France, Rev. William H. Channing, Col. T. W. Higginson, James Parton and wife, (Fanny Fern,) Miss
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