The History of Washington County in the Vermont historical gazetteer : including a county chapter and the local histories of the towns of Montpelier., Part 83

Author: Hemenway, Abby Maria, 1828-1890
Publication date: 1882
Publisher: Montpelier, Vt. : Vermont Watchman and State Journal Press
Number of Pages: 1064

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interests in Montpelier, is largely engaged in the western states. A sister and the aged mother still reside in Elmore. E.P.W.

CHARLES GAMAGE EASTMAN,

born at Fryeburgh, Me., was brought to Barnard, the home of his father, at an early age, where amid the rural scenes of a town beautiful in mountain scenery, his early years were mostly passed.

"His mother, Rebecca Gamage of Frye- búrgh, was a woman beautiful in mind, person and affections," in all which the son strongly resembled his mother.

Born to dependence, chiefly upon his own resources, Charles Gamage worked his way through the district schools and neighboring academies up to college, com- pleting his preparation at the academy in Meriden, N. H .; he entered Burlington College, the University of Vermont, when about 18 years of age. Here he wrote for the old Burlington Sentinel first, and suc- ceeding to the admiration of his party- he was a Democrat from his earliest years ; " always a Democrat and never anything but a Democrat "-he soon was contribu- ting to the other Democratic papers of the State. His articles for the newspapers winning immediate appreciation most flat- tering to a young author, his mind was soon turned to the after profession of his life, that of an editor, which he left college before graduating to adopt.

His first enterprise in opening his pro- fession was the starting of a small journal in the interest of the Democratic party at Johnson, Lamoille Co., which obtained considerable attention, and was regarded a credit to the young editor, but not prov- ing a money success, was relinquished, and in 1840, the no way discouraged editor established himself at Woodstock, the county town of old Windsor, and inaugu- rated " The Spirit of the Age," and his journal at once assumed a high position among the Democratic organs of the State. The earnest, skillful editor, still in flush of early manhood, confident of the strength of his principles, entered like an athlete the newspaper arena, giving battle with vigor in all the political contests on

the tapis, and consequently soon became "a leader in the councils of his party throughout the State," and duly " a prom inent director of its policy in nationa affairs."

In 1846, he sold out The Spirit of th Age at Woodstock, and came to Mont pelier and bought out the Vermont Patriot of which he continued the editor and pub lisher for the remainder of his life. At th same time that he established himself i Montpelier, he established for himself alsc a home-how happily, he himself teache in song. He married a daughter of Di John D. Powers of Woodstock, Mrs Susan S. Havens, whose fairest praise in that song from their domestic hearth :

I touch my harp for one to me Of all the world most dear, Whose heart is Ilke the golden sheaves That crown the ripened year; Whose cheek Is fairer than the sky When't blushes into morn,

Whose voice was in the summer night Of silver streamlets born ;-

. To one whose eye the brightest star Might for a sister own,

Upon whose lip the honey-bee Might bulld her waxen throne;

Whose breath is like the air that woos The buds in April hours,

That stirs within the dreamy heart A sense of opening flowers.

I touch my harp for one to me Of all the world most dear,

Whose heart is like the clustering vine That crowns the ripened year; Whose love is like the living springs The mountain travellers taste, That stormy winter cannot chill, Nor thirsty summer waste.

They had 2 sons and one daughter, born in Montpelier.

Eastman to his sleeping child :

SWEETLY SHE SLEEPS.

Sweetly she sleeps! her cheek so fair Soft on the pillow pressed. Sweetly, see! wlille her Saxon hair Watches her heaving breast. Hush! all low, thou moving breeze, Breathe through her curtain white;

Golden birds, on the maple trees, Let her sleep while her dreams are light. Sweetly she sleeps, her cheek so fair Soft on her white arm pressed. Sweetly, see! and her childish care Flies from her quiet rest. Hush! the earliest rays of light Their wings in the blue sea dip.

Let her sleep, sweet child, with her dreams bright,

And the smile that bewilders her lip.

Charles G. Eastman

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Mr. Eastman continued to prosper in his newspaper and political affairs. His paper was the leading Democratic organ of the State. We quote from the George R. Thompson and Gilman biography, prefac- ing the last volume of his poems (1880.)

It is as the conductor of this journal that he is the most. widely remembered among politicians ; and he managed it with an ability and faithfulness that secured it a reputation and influence seldom possess- ed by a country newspaper. His writings in this paper were in accordance with the character of the man,-direct, incisive, and earnest. He never hesitated to say what- ever was true, if it were proper to be said ; and in his exposures of the errors or frauds of his opponents he employed intellectual weapons of the sharpest and most cutting kind. His arguments were convincing, his logic clear, and his convictions were stamp- ed with truth. His paper was not in any way pre-eminent as a literary one. It might be supposed, judging from his al- most idolatrous love of literary pursuits, that his journal would have been more prominent in that respect ; but he never seemed ambitious to make it so. These inclinations were gratified in another way. Though a member of a political party never in the ascendancy in Vermont, he occupied many influential official positions. He was a leading member of the Democratic Na- tional Conventions of 1848, '52, '56 and '60, and at the time of his death was a prominent member of the National Demo- cratic Committee.

In 1852, '53, he was a senator of Wash- ington County ; " a laborious and useful one," and twice candidate of his party for a member of Congress, and postmaster of Montpelier about 6 years.

In person, he was inclined to be large- not too large,-very handsomely formed, with open, magnetic, beautiful counte- nance, that drew almost at will hosts of friends to his cordial heart. The idol of his party, he had a multitude of friends, also out of it. True to a poet nature, abstract- ed, rapt, fitful, sombre at times, even ; now and then November,-probably, at a De- cember tide-the height of the weird, when he traced that " scene in a Vermont win- ter," that " fearful night in the winter time, as cold as it ever can be "-when " the moon is full but the wings of the furious blast dash out her light."

" All day had the snows come down-all day,"

. " The fence was lost and the wall of stone." " on the mountain peak How the old trees writhe and shriek ."

" Such a night as this to be found abroad." The " shivering dog" "by the road." " See him crouch and growl " "and shut his eyes with a dismal howl." " And old man from the town to-night," that " lost the travelled way." " The midnight past," " the moon looks out," the Morgan mare " that at last o'er a log had floundered down," the old traveller " in coat and buf- falo," stark and stiff in his sleigh in the snow-piled mountain hollow !

But an occasional mood ; he had the heart of June inhis nature-the spirit of spring in his spirit-whose verse oftener trailed over,one line blossoming into another, like a trailing arbutus in May woods. The old liked him. He was so genial ; young men and women liked him ; little children loved him. Long by those who were children in Montpelier in his time, will “ his contagious laugh be remembered," and the charm- ing hilarity with which he would push forward their innocent sports. It is said of him that no young man ever sought en- couragement from him in vain. He had wide and generous views of life, an ample charity for thoughtlessness or " repented erring." As the head of a family, we may quote the words of Dr. Lord to his mourn- ing family at his funeral :

You will remember him first and longest for what he was to you personally,-for what he was in his domestic and social re- lations. You will not forget the kindness of his heart, the amenity and cheerfulness of his manners, the liveliness of fancy and wit with which he cheered the household. You will not lose the recollection of his kind words, of his considerate atten- tions, of his fatherly acts and affections. You will remember the melody of his flute as it led the voices of his children in their songs and hymns; the written prayers, which I am told he composed for them, to be used morning and evening in their devo- tions. And so long as love has a place in your hearts, this household will not cease to have a shrine where his memory shall be kept green and sacred.

The favorite of his party, as a politician, a lovely family and society man, it is still

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as a poet that Eastman has been the widest known and his memory will be most peren- nial. Fluent in composing, laborious in revision-from his college days, or a little before, he wrote and pruned, and pruned and rewrought, and pruned again, refining and changing almost ad infinitum till the day of his death. The result : " As a lyri- cal poet there is no American writer who can be called his superior." He was the first American poet named with praise in the Edinburgh Review ; the old Scotchman, wary of American poets, broke through the ice and praised Eastman handsomely over 20 years since, while he yet lived to catch the beautiful over-the-ocean-glow coming from the fire he had kindled. Facile, agree- able, amusing, as a poet, but not confident. Strange! Did he not know his own pow- ers? It seems he did not ;- " sensitive and doubtful as to their reception "-when his poems were committed to the press, when his book appeared and was winning golden laurels, " almost sorry he had pub- lished it." The writer remembers to have heard him say, he had made up his mind, he believed, to never publish any poem until it had been written seven years and he had revised it every year.

Mr. Eastman brought out his first vol- ume of poems in 1848; from which he contributed with manifold retouchings, to the poems, ten pages to Miss Hemenway's First Edition of the Poets and Poetry of Vermont in 1858, including : " A Picture."

The farmer sat in his easy chair Smoking his pipe of clay-,

Eastman's " Dirge " :

" Softly ! She is lying With her lips apart; Softly ! She is dying Of a broken heart."

" I see her not"-" Uncle Jerry," and. other pieces ; and in the same work, revised and enlarged, " A scene in the Vermont Winter," specially for the volume, and other poems ; as many pages in this sec- ond volume as in the first.

Mr. Eastman's health began steadily to fail from May, 1860. " An obstinate and painful disease burdened his spirit and wasted his frame." Never man needed

rest more ; " but his pride and sympathi were enlisted in the business of his party and too faithful to the complicated respo: sibilities identified with and accumulate upon him, he unwisely, but most unse fishly, (says Mr. Thompson in his sketch made secondary his own interest of heal and life. " But he was at home in tl bosom of his family when his eyes close to the scenes he loved so well; and h last moments, painless and calm, we brightened by the love of family ar friends, and cheered with the substanti hope of eternal happiness and joy." F died at his residence in Montpelier, Sep 16, 1860.

MARY AVERY EASTMAN, the last ar only living descendant, was born in Mor pelier, in 1849. She married, 1872, Eld J. Hartshorn, son of Hon. John W. Hart horn of this State, and now resides Emmetsburg, Iowa, where her husband practicing his profession of the law; h: been State Senator, &c.

JOHN G. EASTMAN, eldest son of Cha G., died in Montpelier in his 20th yea May 30, 1870.

EDWARD S., second son of Charles G died in Montpelier in his 19th year, Od 2, 1875.

Mrs. Eastman, for several years aft her husband's decease, until after tl death of her two sons, continued to resi at Montpelier, spending a part of ear year with her daughter at the West; b within a few years has again taken up h residence in Woodstock.

To the first and sweetest of our Poets- pre-eminently our State bard, we must-1 could not satisfy Montpelier otherwise, n. yet ourself, though crowding to a close- make space for yet a cluster from his poer to lay at the foot of his biography at tl Capital :

THE FIRST SETTLER.

His hair is white as the winter snow,

His years are many, as you may know,- Some eighty-two or three;

Yet a hale old man, stili strong and stout,

And able when 'tis fair to go out

His friends in the street to see ; And all who see his face still pray That for many a long and quiet day

He may live, by the Lord's mercy.

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He came to the State when the town was new, When the lordly pine and the hemlock grew In the place where the court house stands; When the stunted ash and the alder black, The slender fir and the tamarack, Stood thick on the meadow lands; And the brook, that now so feebly flows, Covered the soil where the farmer hoes The corn with his hardy hands.

He built in the town the first log hut; And he is the man, they say, who cut The first old forest oak ; His axe was the first, with its echoes rude, . To startle the ear of the solltude, With its steady and rapld stroke. From his high log-heap through the trees arose, First, on the hills, mild the winter snows, The fire and the curling smoke.

On the land he cleared the first hard year, When he trapped the beaver and shot the deer, Swings the sign of the great hotel ; By the path where he drove his ox to drink The mill-dam roars and the hammers clink, And the factory rings its bell. And where the main street comes up from the south Was the road he " blazed " from the river's mouth, As the books of the town will tell.

In the village, here, where the trees are seen, Circling 'round the beautiful Green, He planted hls hills of corn; And there, where you see that long brick row, Swelling with silk and calico, Stood the hut he bullt one morn; Old Central street was hls pasture lane, And down by the church he will put his cane On the spot where his boys were born.

For many an hour I have heard lılm tell Of the time, he says, he remembers well, When high on the rock he stood, And nothing met his wandering eye Above, but the clouds and the broad blue sky, And below, the waving wood; And how, at night, the wolf would howl Round hls huge log fire, and the panther growl, And the black fox bark by the road.

He looks with pride on the village grown So large on the land that he used to own; And still as he sees the wall Of huge blocks built, in less than the time It took, when he was fresh in his prime, To gather his crops in the fall; He thinks, with the work that, somehow, he Is identified, and must oversee And superintend it all.

His hair is white as the winter snow, And his years are many, as you may know,- Some eighty-two or three; Yet all who see his face will pray, For many a long and quiet day By the Lord's good grace, that he May be left in the land, still hale and stout, And able still when 'tis fair, to go out His friends in the street to see.

THE BATTLE OF PLATTSBURGH.

He who has still left of hls two hands but one, With that let him grapple a sword; And he who has two, let him handle a gun; And forward, boys! forward! the word.

The murmuring sound of the fierce battle-tide Already resounds from afar ;

Forward, boys! forward, on every side, For Vermont and her glittering star!

Who lingers behind when the word has passed down That the enemy swarm o'er the line ?

When he knows in the heart of a North border town Thelr glittering bayonets shine ? Push on to the North; the fierce battle-tide Already resounds from afar ;

Push on to the North from every side, For Vermont and her glittering star!

Forward! the State that was first In the fight When Allen and Warner were here, Should not be the last now to strike for the right, Should never be found In the rear! Then, on to the North! the fierce battle-tide Already resounds from afar;

Push on to the North from every side, For Vermont and her glittering star!

Hark! booms from the lake, and resounds from the land, The roar of the conflict. Push on! Push on to the North! on every hand Our boys to the rescue have gone; Forward! the State that was first in the fight When Allen and Warner were here,

Should not be the last now to strike for the right, Should never be found in the rear.

OF LOVE AND WINE.

Of love and wine old poets sung, Old poets rich and rare,- Of wine with red and ruby heart, And love with golden hair; Of wine that winged the poet's thought, And woke the slumbering lyre; Of love that through the poet's Ilne Ran like a flash of fire.

But wine, when those old poets sung Its pralses long ago, Was something subtler than the bards Of modern ages know ;- Ay, wine was wine when Telan girls, Flushed with the rosy dew, To old Anacreon's fiery strains Through wanton dances flew.

And love, when those old poets sung Its praises long ago, Was something warmer than the bards Of modern ages know; - Ay, love was love when Teian girls, Flushed with the melting fire, With roses crowned Anacreon's brow, With kisses pald his lyre.

PURER THAN SNOW.

Purer than snow Is a girl I know; Purer than snow is she; Her heart is light, And her cheek is bright,- Ah! who do you think she can be ?

I know very well, But I never shall tell, 'Twould spoil all the fun, you see; Her eye is blue; And her lip, like dew, And red as a mulberry.

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THE APPLE BLOSSOM.

Here's an apple blossom, Mary; See how delicate and fair! Here's an apple blossom, Mary ; Let me weave it in your hair!

Ah! thy hair is raven, Mary, And the curls are thick and bright; And this apple blossom, Mary, Is so beautifully white!

There! the apple blossom, Mary, Looks so sweet among your curls! And the apple blossom, Mary, Crowns the sweetest of the girls.

But the apple blossom, Mary, You must have a little care Not to tell your mother, Mary, That I wove it in your hair!

HON. RAWSEL R. KEITH,

oldest son of Hon. Chapin Keith, born in Uxbridge, Mass., Nov. 21, 1790, died in Montpelier Oct. 25, 1874. Coming to Barre with his father in 1793, he remained there until 1817, when he came to Mont- pelier as deputy sheriff, and held that office and the shrievalty until 1831. He was Judge of Probate 1833 to 36, and long a di- rector and finally president of the Bank of Montpelier, retiring voluntarily from these positions. He was a man of firmness and integrity, and highly esteemed by his fel- low citizens. He married Mary T. Wheel- er of Barre, who bore him 2 sons ; R. D. W. Keith, now of Chicago, and Alonzo T. Keith, now of Montpelier.

LUTHER NEWCOMB, ESQ. BY H. A. HUSE.

Luther Newcomb, for many years the county clerk of Washington County, was born in Derby, Apr. 10, 1826, and died from Bright's disease, at his home in Mont- pelier, Jan. 2, 1876. His father was Dr. Luther Newcomb, whose wife was Lucretia Martin. Dr. Newcomb was the first phy- sician to locate in that part of northern Vermont, and was eminent in his profes- sion ; among his students was Dr.Colby, the father of Stoddard B. Colby. Dr. New- comb died when Luther was 5 years old, and the boy remained with his mother 6 years after his father's death.

The family was intimate with Hon. Isaac F. Redfield, and when Luther was 1 1 years old, he came to Montpelier and became the same as a member of Judge Redfield's

family. He studied under the direction ( the Judge and entered Wash. Co. Gran mar School, where he pursued his studie until prepared to enter college. He the read law under the direction of Judge Rec field, and was for a time a student in th office of O. H. Smith, Esq. Though fi ted for admission to the bar, he did no apply for it, but receiving an appoin ment in the customs service he was 2 year a revenue officer on Lake Champlain.

Jan. I, 1849, he was appointed Deput Clerk of Wash. Co. Court under Shubad Wheeler. He was in Dec., 1857, appoin ed Clerk and held the position during th rest of hislife. He was a model officer, an had not only the respect and affection the Washington County bar and the cour but as the general term of the Suprem Court was held here, that of members ( the bar of the whole State.

Mr. Newcomb married June 25, 1857 Amanda Thomas, only daughter of Ger Stephen Thomas. His wife and 3 sons Charles, Luther, and Stephen T., surviv him.

Mr. J. W. Wheelock, who died th month after Mr. Newcomb, on the deat of the latter wrote for his paper, from hi own sick bed, a few words concerning hi old friend, and among them were the fo lowing :

He was in many respects a remarkabl man. Beneath a business-like and, to th casual observer, almost stern exterior, wa hidden a heart tender as that of a womar and one ever prompting him to those kindl thoughts and acts which so ennoble an exalt human nature. Unobtrusive, an apparently concerned only about the prope performance of his duties as clerk of th court, he yet possessed so comprehensiv and discriminating powers of mind that h took in almost intuitively the bearings an consequences of matters brought befor him ; and many a sentence of crisp brevit has contained, as in a nut-shell, the lat and wisdom of it, and the decision a which the learned judge arrives after most elaborate and exhaustive review He was always ready to aid an encourage the inexperienced or timid, an many a success has been achieved throug a timely word of advice and aid from him He was judicious as a counsellor, valuabl

MO. Harith

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and safe as an adviser, and faithful, even unto death, in his friendships.

The funeral of Mr. Newcomb was in the Court House, Rev. J. E. Wright conduct- ing the services, and Hon. Charles W. Willard making an address. Mr. Willard in his address spoke not only as the rep- resentative of the bar, but, indeed, as the nearest friend, and said that the friend- ship of Luther Newcomb had been the friendship of his manhood and his life.

CHARLES CLARK, M. D.,

son of Nathaniel and Lucy (Perry) Clark, was born in what is now known as East Montpelier, Jan. 31, 1800. His parents were among the early settlers of the town, and had come from Rochester, Mass. It is claimed by some members of the Clark family still residing in Rochester, that they are descended from Thomas Clark, mate on the Mayflower, who returned on the brig Anne, and settled in the Plymouth colony in 1623. One of the oldest stones in the cemetery at Plymouth bears the name of Nathaniel Clark, who died in 1714, at 74.

Charles was the second son in a family of 6 children. An injury of his left knee, in his fourth year, caused its amputation 3 years after. This was before the day of anæsthetics. As illustrative of the spirit of the boy, when the surgeon, Dr. Nathan Smith of Hanover, proposed to bind him, as was usual in such cases, the child re- fused, placed himself on the table, sub- mitted to the painful operation without the quivering of a muscle, without a word or any sign of pain.

His father died when he was but 10 years of age, and from that time on, with an indomitable courage characteristic of his whole life, he supported himself by his own labor.

The record of the next 20 years is astory of trials and privations, which a less brave spirit would not have overcome. His ed- icational advantages were limited to the common school and a few terms in the Washington County Grammar School. He studied his profession with Dr. Edward Lamb, of Montpelier, and as early as 1819,

attended lectures at Castleton Medical College. He began the practice of med- icine with Dr. N. C. King, of North Mont- pelier, in 1821, and removed to Calais 2 years later, where he purchased a small farm 'of 20 acres, and set up for himself. He was soon after married to Clarissa Boyden, daughter of Darius Boyden, Esq., of Montpelier, where he resided 14 years. In speaking of these early days he used to say, "Medical practice in these days of warm wraps and nice robes is quite another thing from my experience in the dead of winter on horseback, or at best in a bare sleigh, with insufficient clothing."

In 1837, he removed to Montpelier, pur- chasing the Boyden homestead, where he resided for 12 years, securing an extensive practice not only in Montpelier, but in surrounding towns, winning public confi- dence and affection wherever known.

In 1849, he moved into the village of Montpelier, both for the better education of his children and the more convenient practice of his profession, in which he con- tinued actively engaged till 1865, when he met with an accident resulting in a severe and protracted illness, from which he never wholly recovered. After this, he retired from general practice, retaining only office and consultation business. In 1868, he was again severely injured by being thrown from his carriage. From this he had par- tially recovered, when a year later he was stricken with paralysis. With patient en- durance he lingered through 5 years more of suffering and prostration till his death, June 21, 1874.

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The History of Washington County in the Vermont historical gazetteer : including a county chapter and the local histories of the towns of Montpelier., Part 83

Author: Hemenway, Abby Maria, 1828-1890 Publication date: 1882 Publisher: Montpelier, Vt. : Vermont Watchman and State Journal Press Number of Pages: 1064

Author: Hemenway, Abby Maria, 1828-1890
Publication date: 1882
Publisher: Montpelier, Vt. : Vermont Watchman and State Journal Press
Number of Pages: 1064