USA > Vermont > Rutland County > Wallingford > People of Wallingford, a compilation > Part 19
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XI. THE HILLS AND THE MARSHES
By MARY GILBERT (HILL) SMITH
ARNOLD HILL, in whose memory the fountain by True Tem- per Inn was erected, came to Wallingford from Hubbardton in the early 1850's. His father, Arnold Hill, was a carpenter and builder. Among the older Arnold's works in Vermont are the Congregational Church in Sudbury, the Congregational Church in Hubbardton, and the first frame house and two mills in Pitts- ford.
The younger Arnold was a farmer and merchant. During the Civil War he bought the inn which stood on the site of the present one and ran it successfully as long as his wife's health allowed her to preside in the kitchen.
Matilda Adams Hill was a beautiful woman and an inspired cook. The success of her husband's inn was due quite as much to her culinary ability as to his fund of stories and his genial qualities as a landlord. There is a window to her memory in the Congrega- tional Church.
Among the members of their household were Matilda Hill's brother and sister, John Quincy and Abigail Adams, an eccentric pair despite (or perhaps because of) their descent from a brother of President John Adams.
After leaving the inn about 1870 they lived for a few years in the house across the street from the village school. In 1879
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Arnold bought a farm from Abraham Adams and brothers on the north side of School Street, east of his home and built the present farmhouse where they spent their last days.
"Quince," as he was always called, was a confirmed bachelor with mechanical ability, like his father, Daniel Adams. The Adamses were never without a mill. After Quince came to live with his sister he bought the sawmill on Roaring Brook (which burned in later years) where he sawed lumber and made snow shovels and other wooden products.
For his youngest nephew, Fred Smith Hill, he made an espe- cially sturdy sled, long enough to accommodate three small chil- dren. After Fred grew to manhood he sent the sled to the children of his brother, Charles Erwin, then living in Denver. The sled was as good as new; but the children's joy in it was marred by the fact that it had "Freddy" painted on it in fancy letters. Not until after the lettering had been covered by a thick coat of scarlet paint did they appreciate the sterling qualities of that family sled.
Abbie Adams was a fun-loving, sharp-spoken spinster, who rendered invaluable aid to her sister in doing her housework and rearing her sons. Four of the sons grew to manhood and always kept their fondness for "Aunt Abbie." She was a bit jealous of their affection. Whenever the boys gave gifts to their mother they had to give similar ones to her.
Once when Matilda Hill was sick a neighbor, who had come to take her place at the kitchen stove, offered to give Aunt Abbie a lesson in cooking. "No, thank you," she responded. "I know how to do more kinds of work now than I have time to do."
Daniel Gilbert, the oldest son of Arnold and Matilda Hill, was born July 25, 1844, four months before his mother was seven- teen. Charles Erwin and Edgar Arnold followed in quick succes- sion, the latter but three months after his mother's nineteenth birthday. These three sons and their parents completed the im- mediate family for fifteen years. The boys said that their lovely
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mother combined the qualities of a fond parent with those of an older sister.
They were less enthusiastic about their father's mother, who lived with them for many years. Since her daughter-in-law was so youthful, the older woman felt impelled to keep a sharp eye on the management of the household.
One winter rats invaded the cellar where the family's stock of apples was stored and left the marks of their teeth on many a rosy cheek. Grandma decreed that the three little boys should eat only apples that the rats had gnawed. The boys retired for a private conference.
Thereafter they were careful to show their grandmother the brown marks left by teeth on the apples they ate every day.
"It does beat all," the old lady fretted, "how those rats con- trive to pick out our very best apples."
The explanation was simple. Early every morning one of the boys went to the cellar, selected as many choice apples as he and his brothers would want to eat that day, gnawed them enough to pass muster with Grandma, and put them in a secret place ready for use. Of course their mother guessed the trick, but equally of course she never told.
On Washington's birthday, 1862, twin boys came to take the place of Gilbert, who had enlisted in the Vermont Volunteers. One of the babies died that day. The other, Ernest, lived for two years and nine months. He was the "beautiful baby" spoken of by J. T. Trowbridge in one of his later letters.
The marble lamb to the memory of little Ernest in Green Hill Cemetery is the second one erected there. The first one was de- molished by two small boys, who were testing their skill with a new hammer. Sometimes-anxious parents might like to know that, far from continuing their destructive course, both boys de- veloped into leading citizens and ministers of the gospel.
Fred Smith Hill, the youngest son, was born in April, 1864, six
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months before Gilbert's death and seven before Ernest's. He had a marvelous memory and was a natural comedian. Old residents still remember some of his performances in High School plays. His brothers agreed that if "Fred could just go on the stage and act perfectly natural" he might outdo the success of Denman Thompson in "The Old Homestead" or the chore boy in "Way Down East."
He inherited his father's gift for story-telling and had an in- exhaustible fund of amusing anecdotes. Neighbors claimed that he did most of his farm work himself. But he always hired help in order to have an audience for his stories.
Fred's brothers gave him their rights in all the family property including that of their Uncle Quince. Beside his mill Quince owned the building where the Masons met until they bought their present Temple. Fred carried on the family farm until after his mother's death and his marriage to Jessie Lawton, when he moved to Concord, N. H., where he is buried with his wife.
Edgar Arnold went to Chicago soon after his return from Vir- ginia with the body of Gilbert in 1864. He was associated with E. W. Gillette in the manufacture of dry yeast and the formation of the Northwestern Yeast Company. After the death of Gillette he was president of the Company until his own death in 1905. His oldest son, Charles B. Hill, is now vice-president and general manager of the company.
Charles Erwin Hill began his career at the age of twelve by going to work in Batcheller and Scribner's store for his clothes and pocket money. He was a slight, frail boy. In later years he re- called his dread lest a woman customer might come for a barrel of flour when he was alone in the store.
In those days customers took their purchases home with them. A man would roll a barrel of flour into his wagon himself; but the clerk or storekeeper would do it for a woman.
Years later, when Charlie and his father were running the
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store, a tall citizen, noted for the size of his feet, came to get a pair of overshoes. He was waited on by their young clerk.
The boy looked in vain for a pair large enough for the cus- tomer. At last, having emptied the big drawer where the stock was kept, he took out the drawer itself and asked; "Want to try that ?"
The customer failed to see the joke. He rushed to Charlie Hill at once with a demand for the boy's discharge.
"He was impudent," Charlie agreed, "and I'll discharge him if you insist. But people will ask me why I did it and I shall have to tell them. If we kept the story to ourselves
The customer saw the point.
"Will you see that Johnny keeps his mouth shut?" he de- manded.
Charlie could and did. So Johnny kept the secret-and his job.
In 1872 Charlie married Laura Eliza Marsh. They had nine children, seven of whom grew to maturity. In 1874 they built the house on Main Street nearly opposite the Congregational Church now owned by Clarence Congdon.
In 1880 the doctor ordered Charlie to Colorado, where his wife and four children joined him in Denver the following spring. In 1895 the family went to St. Petersburg, Russia, in the interests of the Northwestern Yeast Company. On their return to America Charles became president of the Chicago Writing Machine Com- pany until his retirement in 1905, when he and his wife returned to Wallingford. She outlived him by over 25 years, the latter fourteen of which she spent in Pasadena, Calif., alert and inter- ested in life to the very last.
Laura Hill's father, William Gurley Marsh, was left an orphan in his early boyhood and was reared in the family of an uncle in Clarendon. His own sad childhood made him affectionate and in- dulgent to children, especially his two daughters and his grand- children.
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Threatened with tuberculosis in his early manhood, he was told by the doctor that he must do light farm work or go on to a ped- dler's cart. He immediately chose farm work and bought from his father-in-law the farm situated half a mile north of the village of Wallingford now owned by Edmund Edgerton, which then also comprised land west of the Creek Road, now owned by Aldace Newton. He had married Marcia Button, youngest daughter of Deacon Frederick Button of Clarendon.
He farmed so efficiently that in 1858 he was able to replace the old dwelling place on the farm with the present house. It was built by Orvis McKnight, a "boss carpenter," known for his ex- cellent craftsmanship and the plain pattern of his houses. It is said that he left only one hammer mark on all the construction work he ever did.
When he was building a house for Doctor Hazen of East Wall- ingford, the minister spoke to him from the street and distracted his attention so that his hammer slipped.
"I wish," he exclaimed peevishly, surveying the shallow dent, "that folks wouldn't talk to me when I'm at work!"
Although Gurley Marsh paid little heed to the doctor's orders about "light farm work," especially when he was hoeing corn with a hired man who would feel in duty bound to keep pace with his employer, he disliked milking and never kept a dairy. He filled his excellent pastures with beef cattle and built a "middle" and a "west" barn to provide for their winter feed and shelter.
He was a member of the Congregational Church, where there is a window in memory of him and his wife, and a member of the first board of the Gilbert Hart Library.
His younger daughter, Carrie A. Marsh, lived with her parents until their death. Later she traveled in all the states and Alaska and spent a summer in France and Spain. She was fond of horses and had a local reputation as a horsewoman. She was especially interested in the work of the Congregational Church, to which
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she left $500. While he lived her father gave her an allowance of $100 a year for clothes and spending money-an unusual thing in those days, when $100 had genuine buying power.
Marcia Button Marsh used her gifts from her father, who gave money to his daughters every year, to help pay for her husband's farm until the title was clear. After that she had "her own money," a rare privilege for a married woman at that time. She paid for most of her own clothes, bought fresh fish from a fish peddler who made weekly rounds, made her own contributions to church and missionary work and put money in the bank for her grand- children every Christmas.
As long as Deacon Button lived (for nearly 25 years after Marcia's marriage) all the children and grandchildren went home for Thanksgiving. Some of the later celebrations brought to- gether 45 members of the family.
The Deacon bought the turkey and oysters. His daughter Eme- line stuffed and roasted the turkey (or turkeys ), made the oysters into a milk stew and baked the bread. Daughters Alzina and Eliza supplied the vegetables, the cranberries and the pickles. Daugh- ter Julia and daughter-in-law Lucretia brought the pies, usually apple, mince and pumpkin. Sometimes Lucretia, the only one who kept a hired girl, would surprise them with some newfangled pie. One or more of the sisters always brought cookies.
Usually the minister and his wife shared the feast. The older granddaughters waited on table. The other grandchildren were left in the parlor to amuse themselves as best they could until their elders were full fed. Sometimes it seemed to them that those elders would never finish. Always they feared that the turkey would all be gone. But the second table, however late, was as liberally supplied as the first.
Daughter Marcia brought the fruitcake, which was cut and served in the late afternoon, just before chores called the men of the family home. With it was served fruit that the Deacon had
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saved for the occasion, usually Isabella grapes of his own raising and some of his choicest apples.
Frederick Button was called "Deacon" nearly all his life, partly to distinguish him from his father, Charles Frederick, who was called Frederick to distinguish him from his father Charles, the Revolutionary soldier, who was one of the first settlers in Claren- don, then chartered by New York as Durham.
Frederick was one month past twenty-one when his father died and his mother followed a few months later. His father's will left the family land to him and made him sole guardian of the younger children, ranging in age from two to nineteen. He mar- ried Elizabeth Rogers, a neighbor's daughter who had been help- ing his mother.
With her assistance he finished rearing his father's family and brought up six children of his own-five daughters and a son. He lived in his father's house now occupied by the family of his great grandson, Roy E. Pratt. He added more rooms to the old house to fill the needs of his growing family.
He was the first importer of Merino sheep in Rutland County. His interest in the Clarendon Church is recalled by his title and a memorial window there.
His cousin, Jacob Button, had the farm on the Wallingford- Clarendon line later owned by Barney Riley and now the home of his widow. His only son, Hiram, had the farm on the Federal Highway by Mill River with a handsome brick house, which burned to the ground about twenty years ago. His oldest daugh- ter, Alzina, married Nathan Smith, and settled in the house north of the family burying ground.
Lovina Emeline married Perry Smith and lived in the house now owned by Albert Kelley, a mile north of Wallingford vil- lage. This house is one of the oldest in town and was an inn in Vermont's early days. J. T. Trowbridge spent six weeks there when he was planning "Neighbor Jackwood." It was at that time
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the girlhood home of Kate Shaw, said to have been the original "Phoebe." She later married Aldace F. Walker, who served in the Vermont Brigade, and became a member of the first Interstate Commerce Commission.
Julia married Thomas Pierce and lived in the house on the hill road to Rutland now owned by James Moran. Eliza married Elias Pratt and they lived with her father in the Old Homestead after her mother's death.
So the Deacon, in his later years, could visit all his children in the course of a few miles drive on what was then all one road. He was an enthusiastic angler and delighted in taking his next-to- youngest grandson, Eugene Smith, on fishing trips.
He once assembled his available grandchildren, eighteen at that time, and took them on a grand tour to Lake George and Saratoga Springs. He made sure that they missed nothing by pointing out objects of interest with his cane (made from the jaw- bone of a whale) to the embarrassment of his older granddaugh- ters, then in their teens.
He, his parents, his grandparents, all his children but Julia, with other relatives and members of four later generations rest in the Button Family Cemetery, north of the Old Homestead.
A fund, raised by members of the family after the death of Eugene Smith, provides for the care of this burying ground in the years to come.
DANIEL GILBERT HILL
Daniel Gilbert Hill, oldest son of Arnold and Matilda Adams Hill, was born July 25th, 1844. He was a handsome, high-spirited boy of whom his brothers delighted to tell stories in later years.
On one occasion he and his boy friends were playing Indian in the woods near Elfin Lake. As one of the fastest runners, he had been assigned the part of white man and was dressed as usual.
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The other boys, attired in war paint and breech clouts, were pur- suing him as bloodthirsty Indians.
Gilbert caught sight of J. T. Trowbridge, then a guest at the Shaw farm, strolling in the woods with three sisters, known throughout their lives as the "Townsend Girls." He managed to cross their path just in time to give them a full view of his savage pursuers-and that in days when only faces and hands were left uncovered in public, and the exposure of an ankle was embarrass- ing. (But the Indians retaliated when they caught him!)
In his eighteenth year Gilbert enlisted in Capt. John A. Shel- don's Company of volunteers which he helped recruit. An old lady reproached him for persuading Wallingford boys to go into danger.
"Madam," he replied, "I shall never ask one of those boys to go anywhere where I won't go myself."
When the 10th Vermont was organized, he was appointed Commissary Sergeant. He was commissioned 2nd Lieutenant of Co. H on the 19th of January, 1863, and served most of the time during the following year as aide-de-camp on the staff of Brig. Gen. W. H. Morris. He was complimented for gallantry in the ac- tions at Kelly's Ford and Locust Grove. In camp his comrades voted him the best rider and the best tenor singer in the regiment.
On the 17th of June, 1864, he was promoted to 1st Lieutenant of Co. H and served with credit throughout the campaign of the Wilderness. In the Fall of this year he served with the Vermont Brigade under General Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley.
At the battle of Opequan ( Winchester) September 19th, 1864, he was wounded below the knee by a case shot. He underwent two amputations in the hospital. His brother Edgar was with him and he was apparently recovering when, on the 26th of October, an orderly rushed into the ward with news that the Rebels were coming.
Forgetful of his wound, the young Lieutenant shouted an order,
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started up, and reached for his sword. The effort brought on a hemorrhage, from the effects of which he died within an hour. His brother and the negro boy Tom, who had attached himself to him, brought the body home for burial in Green Hill Cemetery.
Years later an attorney brought an application blank to Gil- bert's mother and offered to get a pension for her.
"I gave him to his country," she replied, "I didn't sell him."
He filled out the application and left it with her in case she changed her mind, saying that she had only to sign it and mail it to him. After her death it was found among her papers, still lack- ing her signature.
The following extracts have been taken from letters written by Gilbert to his parents and brothers during his years of service with the Vermont Brigade.
Camp on the Potomac, Oct. 5th, 1862
Home is a good place, Charlie, and you had better be contented to stay there. In the first place, even if you were older your strength and health would not be sufficient to endure the hard- ships that some have to pass through with here: in the second place there is a time coming when they will want and need just such boys as yourself at home in Vermont; in the third place I can do patriotic army service enough for all at home.
I would not for all the world have you infer from what I have said that I am not perfectly satisfied. My health was never better in my life, neither did I ever enjoy myself more. The duties as- signed to me I like tip top and I pride myself that I am able to perform them. I have had to be very busy for the past three weeks, ever since we left Brattleboro.
Henry has been very sick, so much so that we considered him in danger at one time. He is now at Fairfax Seminary Hospital in Alexandria. I have not seen a sick day since we have been here. If you could see me now, you would say I was tu-uff. My whiskers and mustache are now grown out very lengthy, and I am so tanned that I begin to look quite like a man (I think) .
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Sunday Morning.
The first thing I heard this morning was the Colonel at my tent saying: "Hill, there is a report that the Rebels are crossing the ford two miles above here and I am going to rally my whole force and meet them. In the meantime I wish you to get your men at work packing up your Q. Mast. and Commis. Stores. If you hear firing, load them immediately and put back into the country out of the way."
Did not specify any particular way or place. The whole thing was in my hands, as it has been many times before since I came out. After wasting an hour or so and being all ready to go, the goods all packed and Old Jeff all saddled and bridled and fit for a fight (though not very impatient), the Colonel rode up and in- formed me that it was a false alarm, and that I might pursue my regular routine of business. So, in compliance with his order, I had two men detailed to assist me, and at this present moment my storehouse is all O.K., my boots are all blacked, my men are dis- tributing our fresh beef, and your humble brother is happy as an oyster in high water.
You write that M I K E is married to the fair Marcella. If so, bully for him and probably she will get part of the enjoyment.
How is our good mother's health? Watch her, Charlie, and do not let her work too hard, for her disposition in that respect is bound to kill her. You do not know what she is worth to us as well as I do. She is one among a thousand, a pearl of great price.
Harrison and Armstrong are both feeling tip top and enjoying themselves finely. Give my best respects to Lyman and ask him how his Meerschaum colors.
Charlie, write often. Do not wait for an answer. Give me good lengthy letters and above all things send me all the newspapers you can get your hands on. You do not know how we prize them.
Address: D. G. Hill
Com. Sergt. 10th Regt. Vt. Vols.
Washington, D. C.
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Camp Grover at Offutts Roads, Md., Dec. 16, 1862
I am writing in Chaplain Haynes' tent. The wind is blowing with all its fury and the rain pattering against the tent in a manner which you seldom see at home. But even in the midst of all this I am enjoying myself better than ever before. Lonesome moments are strangers to me, but thoughts of home are always in my mind.
You will see by date that I have returned from Rockville (yes- terday). We had a grand time up there. There were only three or four Union families in the place; the remainder of the inhabitants were the rankest Secesh-so much so that they had frequently threatened to hang these Union men.
Night before last a portion of Stuart's Rebel Cavalry made a raid in Poolesville and captured a company of Scott's 900 Cavalry. They shot the Orderly Sergeant of the Company and wounded six others. There were seven in church (it being Sunday evening). They heard the order to lock the doors at which they immediately sprang up and forced their way out of the house and escaped to tell the sad lot which befell their companions. They are in our Brigade at present. Their horses were all captured. Poolesville is about fifteen miles from our camp.
Leo Waldo was here last Saturday but went back Sunday. I was so busy that I was deprived of a good chance to visit him.
Camp at White's Ford, Md. March 8th, 1863
I attended a dance last evening. My partner was Sergt. C. N. Edgerton, who happened to be Sergt. of the Camp Guard. I was "Officer of the Day." We started for the dance at twelve o'clock. In the first set we danced down to the Canal Locks, a distance of one mile. This set we enjoyed very much. The floor of the hall was not very smooth. We would sometimes make a slight mistake and get into one of these Maryland mud puddles, which are pretty much all mud, I assure you.
Having arrived at the Lock, I there changed partners and danced with Sergt. Johnson of Co. H, who was Sergt. of the Picket. The hall extended along on the canal tow patch for half a mile to the culvert where there was a sentinel stationed. Finding him all right and in the strict pursuance of his duty, I then turned
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round and danced back along down the hall to the Lock, where I looked over the Picket Guard. This consisted of one Corporal with the Sergt. of whom I have spoken and fifteen men; also the Patrol, which consists of a Corporal and six men who are mounted. Their duties are to ride twice every twenty-four hours from Conrad's Ferry to North of Monocacy.
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