USA > Vermont > Rutland County > The history of Rutland county, Vermont; civil, ecclesiastical, biographical and military, pt 1 > Part 50
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Ilis good brig is moored at last, Sails are furled and cables fast,
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And through ages long and chill The same ice shall shroud it still, In its narrow home? But the captain is not there !
Boundless fields of knowledge fair
Now are all his own ! And the simple earnest prayer Breathed in suffering and care. " Restore us to our home." God in mercy bowed to hear, And beneath the sable bier
Rests the wearied one ! The strong men of the sea, Whose hearts are true and bold, Mourn that their loved and honored chief Lies in his earth-bed cold; And Hans in his distant Etah home, Will weep in the arms of his bride When he knows that the naleyak he loved Has laid him down and died. Rest in thy slumber sweet ! The laurel is on why brow ! And the tears of a wide world's bleeding heart Are poured around thee now ! Thou knowest it not; in thy Father's arms There is rest and peace for thee, Where the weary soul " remembereth not The moaning of the sea !"
HENRY H. VAUGHAN. WHO WAS KILLED AT GETTYSBURG, JULY 3d, 1863. BY MRS. S. A. NICHOLS.
Where the hilside slopes to the southern sun, And a rambling orchard buds and blows, A lone grave sleeps in the waving grass, Or hides 'neath the deep New England snows.
Long years ago, in his quiet rest, They laid a husband and father there, The burden of life, was a weary load Too great for his feeble strength to bear.
And the young wife sat in her stricken home, With her fair haired boy upon her knee, 'Numbed with a sorrow, too deep for words, Alone in her fearful agony.
Through days and nights she wrestled and strove, Beating the tidle of anguish back, That her hand might be strong to gulde her son Wisely and well, on life's devious track.
Ani at last in his manhood's glorious strength He stood ; the light of her widowed home : And asked her to lay on her country's shrine, The priceless gem she had thought her own.
Under the shimmering light of the moon, The grave in the orchard, peaceful lay, And her tried, true heart dared only to ask, " If his father was living what would he say." Well she knew, that the loyal man, Would give his treasure, his life, his son, To aid the perilled cause of the right, And she must do as he would have done.
So she laid, for a time her terror aside, And blest her boy with tearless eye,
And sent him out from his love-crowned home, In the smoke of the battle-field to die.
Then she turned to her househol I cares, Doing the duty that nearest lay, Patiently bearing the burden of life, And not forgetting to pray.
Aye, pray ; thou has need, for thy fair-haired son Sleeps at Gettysburg, gory and dim, His blue eyes glassy, his fair hair torn ! Pray for thyself, mother, not for him.
SONG TO THE EMIGRANT. BY MRS. H. M. CRAPO.
From the Emerald Isle they cross the sea, To onr land they com .. the home of the free, And their hearts oppressed by want and care, Grow lighit again when they breathe our air.
A mighty band they will soon become, They're hast'ning on, the old and the young ; The Emigrant come- from a foreign shore, The high, the low, the rich and the poor.
To the home of the free they hasten on ; Our fields are broad and wave with corn, Emigrant haste to the Western plain, Build thee a cabin and sow the grain,
And thy fields shall teem with golden grain Haste thee, emigrant, over the plain ; Independent as the lord who gave The right to toil, to be his slave.
Shalt thou be there, in thy cabin home, When thy fields are gle (ned, thy harvest done ? Then haste thee emigrant on to weal From the land that crushed thee with iron-heel.
Our fields are broad, we welcome thee, None shall ask thee to bow thy knee, Or doff thy hat when they pass thee by, All are equal, none are high.
Then haste thee emigrant over the plain, Build thee a cabin and sow thy grain, And there beneath thy tree and vine, Sit thee down in life's decline.
THE WANDERER'S LAST SONG. BY MRS. H. X. CRAPO.
Green are the hills of my home in Vermont, Moss-grown the roof of my father's low cot, Sweet are the rose' that bloom near its door, The song of the blne-bird that flits o'er the moor.
The home of my childhood I ne'er shall see more, There kindred await me-in vain I depiore, That fate that has left ine to die here alone, Far away from my loved ones,-my own cherished home.
In the land of the stranger-kind friend will weep, For one who is sleeping far o'er the blue deep : Oh, why did I leave them, in a strange land to roam ? A shadow will darken thuir once happy home.
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My mother is waiting beside the bright hearth, In the cot on the hill side-my father comes forth From his fields that are waving with bright golden grain, But never, O never shall I greet them again.
Green are the hills of my home in Vermont, Moss-grown the roof of my father's low cot, Sweet are the roses that bloomn near the door. Of the cot on the hill-side I ne're shall see more.
THE QUAKER GIRL. BY MRS. H. M. CRAPO. She is both good and sensible, No modern belle is she, She scorneth affectation, And that right heartily.
She does not change her manner, When gentlemen are by, She does not blush and simper, And downward cast her eye.
She wears no gaudy colors, Her dress is plain and neat She wears no trails nor flounces To sweep and dust the street.
Says " thee," and " thou" so sweetly, I know you all would love her, If you could know Ruth Halliday, The Quaker's only daughter.
NOT YET. BY CHAS. H. CONGDON.
At fifteen I way anxious very, That time should waft me o'er the ferry, To manhood's golden gifted power, So anxious and uneasy I, My patience it did sorely try. Some spirit whispered in that hour, Not yet 1
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At twenty, could not make it seem, That I knew less, than at fifteen,- And so I strove and jogged along, But then there comes with length'ning years, Which at fifteen excites no fears, That spirit speaks in accents strong, Not yet !
At twenty-five, we are not cured Of what at fifteen we endured, In almost hopeless misery. Begin to dream of something wrong, But days and weeks still speed along In slow succession they pass by ! Not yet1
At thirty we would fain look back, Upon the well known beaten track, And wish t'were straighter, better trod, But business now our thoughts engage, For what may etare us in old age, And I a begging way might plod, Not yet !
But thirty-five soon hasteny on, New years come-but soon are gone, As gone so many have before Yet scarce we heed how swift they pass, Until we're booked as old at last, That spirit whispers as of yore, Not yet !
Ah 1 forty did you say-in truth I feel as young as in my youth ; You say I'm getting-yes I'm old- But then, three score and ten long years, 'Allotted is to man,-who fears When only forty has been told, Not yet 1
Then since I'm writing up my time, Nay putting it in uncouth rhyme, Why should I need a gentle hint
That at forty-five the scales may turn, As less'ning fires more dimly burn. Now must I think my powers to stint ? Not yet !
To day I'm fifty I declare ! My face is wrinkled, gray my hair ! At fifteen-thirty-did not dream,
But life would pass without a ripple, Now I'm rheumatic, almost a cripple. Is life a burden as it seems ? Not yet ! Not yet 1 Danby, Oct. 6th, 1870.
ON THE DEATH OF DR. JOHN FOX. WHO DIED JUNE 17TH, 1853. BY A. S. BAKER.
Lo on the silent breeze is borne, A tale of grief and dread, An honored one has just passed on, Is numbered with the dead.
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Those friends who hold him all so dear, May well in anguish mourn, That cherished one to them so dear, Has passed away and gone. :
Yet not alone to grief will bend, Those of his kindred clan, The healing art has lost a friend, The world an honored man.
Amid the scenes of pain and death, A useful life he led, Hle soothed the weak and feeble breath, And smoothed the dying bed.
Now long will suffering mortals wait, For his return again, He's passed beyond the royal gate, They'll wait for him in vaiu.
(Written June 18th, 1553.)
MY MOUNTAIN HOME.
BY A. 8. BAKER. I love my home, though other lands May boast of fairer fields,
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I love my home though India's strands The fragrant spices yield ;
My mountain home is dearer still, Though mid the forest trees ;
For sweetly flows the dancing rill, And healthful is the breeze.
Let others praise the beauties of The smiling far off West,
I'm not ashamed to own I love My native land the best ;
For fairer suns have never shone, On any land or clime,
Than shines above my own dear home, This mountain home of mine.
The breeze is pure, the sky serene, The woodlands fair to view,
The summer robes the fields in green. The people all are true.
And e'en the rude blast's chilling wind, Is music sweet to me ;
I love its snow-clad hills and dales, Its bleak winds whistling free.
THE CHRYSALIS. BY CHAS. H. CONGDON.
When I attempt a search, throughout Creation's vast domain,
Things curious, wonderfully wrought, Fill up this being's chain.
The other morn, though winter's claim Its zenith scarce had passed,
A chrysalis that long had laid, Unconscious of the piercing blast,
Was wakened from its torpid dreams, By balmy breezes' gentle power,
And from its self-made prison beams, The golden light, the blissful shower,
And forth it came the joy of all, Itself was joyous too, It came at nature's earnest call, Of nature's wealth to woo.
CATHOLIC CHURCH. BY BISHOP DE GOESBRIAND.
The first missionary who paid regular vis- its to the Catholics who lived about this place was Rev. J. Daly. Since the year 1854, they have been attended at different intervals by the priests who resided at East Rutland, Bennington or East Dorset. Rev. Thomas Gaffney of East Dorset has now charge of the mission, where there are about 30 fam- ilies. Up to this time (1572,) they had no place of worship. Last year they purchased the building which had been built and way once used for a Bank, and it having been tutefully repaired, is now used by them as a church.
REMINISCENCES OF MRS. EUNICE BULL, WIDOW OF ELIJAH BULL OF DANBY-MAR. 1, 1864.
[Taken from her lips by our hand. The excellent old lady was remarkable for her intelligence and mental ability .- Ed.]
" My maiden name was Bump. My fath- er was Edward Bump, 2d, called Capt. Bump. When I asked him why he was called Cap- tain, he answered " I was captain of the cripple company." I think, he had a com- mission under King George. He was bound to a farmer till 14 years of age. He and my mother both came from Connecticut. My mother's maiden name was Jerusha Wheat, and her mother's family name was Gale. My mother had a brother killed in building Norwich bridge, Connecticut, where the great railroad disaster, a few years since oc- curred. She was left an orphan when but 7 years of age. Her husband was also an orphan. They were married at Dr. Payne's in Canaan, Ct., with whose family my mother lived. My parents were married in January -- and soon after their marriage, the same month, settled in Wallingford Vt-rising of 90 years since. Three children were born to them in Wallingford before myself, now aged 84. (July 27, 1863.) Their children were : Lael, Edward, Maria, (Mrs. Perry Wells of Wallingford ; deceased) Eunice (my- self) Jerusha (married Abijah Nelson ; set- tled in New York State; deceased.) Bela (died young) Ain, Abner (now living in West Springfield, Pa.,-Ain in Wisconsin or a Western State-Leal and Edward also live at the West.
Eunice, (myself) married Elijah son of Crispin, son of Timothy Bull.
Timothy Bull of Rhode Island married Patience Page of the same State. They first settled in Clarendon, Vt .: afterward they lived and died in Danby. Timothy lived to the age of 07. Patience, his wife, was for many years a doctress or midwife. While they lived in Clarendon an English soldier came to them one night who was sick and begged for medicine and to stay over night. For humanity's sake he was taken in and a bed made for him on the floor of the cabin and Mrs. Bull made him an herb tea. About light, they knew he was there, but when they had risen in the morning, he was gone, but they knew not where. The whigs who had got track of his having been there, came to question MIr. and Mrs. Bull. They could
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not elicit anything satisfactory, and went so far as to hang the old man twice at his own door till almost dead. His wife, not allowed to speak a word, stood by and witnessed the barbarity. Timothy and Patience Bull had children ; Page who died in Connecticut and left two children ; Crispian, Michael, William. son and Phoebe-Michael went to Canada and Williamson to Maria, N. Y., where he died. Phoebe married John Bull a cousin and died leaving four or five children, and a pair of twins buried with her. . They lie buried on a knoll above Isaac Nichols's.
Crispian, born in Rhode Island, married Mary Carpenter of the same State. They had three children when they came to Danby." [For additional biography of the Bulls of Danby see history by Mr. J. C. Williams. -Ed.]
"Crispian first purchased in Danby 60 acres for 60 days work upon the road which was then being built around Dorset pond.
We lived in Huntington about 1S03. In Hinesburgh, a Mr. Bostwick, I think put up a carding-machine. Gov. Chittenden then lived in a neighboring town (Williston.) Mrs. Chittenden had never seen a carding machine. So one day she took a load of wool on to her horse behind and started off for Hinesburgh. John Thomas, a soldier in the British army who remained after the declaration of peace, who had been out to Hinesburgh that day, came home and told nie about the carding-machine, and that the Governor's lady had been out to see the wonder and gone all over the building Rogers employed a man to assist him in logging. The hired man drove the team while Wing was busy with a lever rolling logs, and sometimes got in the way of the team. The man would stop to allow his em- ployer a chance to save himself. This dil not please Wing, it was a waste of time : so he ordered him to drive on and he would take care of himself. He obeyed, and before long the old Quaker found himself fluit on the ground with a log rolling over him. The consequence was a broken leg and three months on his back ; but said the sufferer, "Gideon, thee wasn't to blame; thee did just as I told thee." and examined the machinery and had her wool carded and returned home with her rolls behind her the same night. So I thought I would go out and see the carding- machine and get my rolls carded. But I went with my husband. I had not as much courage as Mrs. Chittenden to go alone. When I arrived at Hinesburgh, a protracted meeting was being held among the Con- gregationalists, by a Mr. Hovey, I think from Waterbury, and eight or ten other ministers were there. It rained in the fore- Rogers's fourth wife proved herself his equal, and paid him in his own coin. One day he went out, turned the cows into the meadow, and returning, addressed his wife, " My dear, the cows are all in the meadow ; I want thee should go and drive them out " She started at once like a dutiful wife, and opening the bars between the mea low and the cornfield, hurried the cows through. a id noon and the meeting was held in three houses. It cleared up in the afternoon and the people all came together around Mr. Bostwick's, and held their meeting. I saw the new carding-machine but so much was going on I did not get my rolls that night to carry home with me as Mrs. Chittenden did." I then returned, saying, " My dear, the cows
" How have the homespun days departed," continued the venerable old lady, "in which an honored governor's wife could take her wool on horseback and start off to a distant town without servant or company and bring her rolls back at night to the admiration of all the neighboring women of the country."
Mrs. Bull also says that the house for worship in town was a Baptist log meeting- house, with desk and seats of rough boards.
ANECDOTES OF WING ROGERS.
BY MARIAH H. TUPPER, CHARLOTTE-FROM THE " VERYOSZ RECORD."
" One day he came in from the field, and ordered his wife to bring him a pitcher of water from the spring. She went cheerfully and readily, and brought the water. He re- ceived it from her hand, and looking into the vessel, declined to drink, on the plea that there was a straw in it, and pouring it out ordered her to bring another. She did so, and this time took care to ascertain that it was perfectly pure and irreproachable. Without drinking, he poured it out and or- dered her to go the third time. She dil so, and returned : and when at a convenient distance she dashed the whole contents over his person. He spluttered and gasped at the suddenness of the cold bath ; and when suf- ficiently recovered, he looked up at the calm, quiet countenance beside him and spoke out, "There, that's done like a sensible wonan ! If Becky had done that years ago, she would have made a good husband of me." The couple lived in a tolerable degree of comfort and harmony to the end of their union, she adapting her " treatment," as the doctors say, " to the exigencies of the case."
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are in the cornfield ; I want thee should drive them out." This was too much for Wing's acquisitiveness and he drove them back to the pasture at once.
Wing's wife bought a cheap set of dishes, which were set out on the table when he came in. He knew they did not cost much and thought it necessary to teach his better half not to make purchases without his knowledge or consent, so he deliberately kicked them over. She said nothing, but quietly cleared away the broken crockery and next day brought home a more expen- sive set, which she spread on the table as before. These were smashed also. His wife cleared away the fragments without a frown, and next day brought home a costly set of china and the third time set them on the table. Her husband surveved them with a troubled countenance, and mutter- ing," It won't do ; they cost too much," he went to the merchant and forbade him trust- ing his wife. He had hardly got home again when a writ was served on him, and he was obliged to fork over the money for the three sets of dishes."
FAIR HAVEN. BY A. N. ADAMS.
[ This history is compiled from a volume, 12mo., 516 pp., published by A. N. Adams, and printed by Tuttle & Co. of Rutland, in 1870, and sent to us in the sheets, to take what part of it we might desire for our work -and we have taken, therefore, everything we regard no only as of any general interest for the State and County, but, also, of any particular interest to the town itself .- Ed.]
This town, comprising originally within its limits what is now West Haven and Fair Haven, was in the time of the Revolutionary War, an unsettled tract lving along Poultney river an I East Bay on the east side of Lake Champlain, which, in connection with Ben- son on the north, had been cut off and left south of Orwell and between the towns of Hubbariton, Castleton and Poultney on the east, and the Lake on the west, when those towns were incorporated by the government of New Hampshire in 1761.
A part of the territory was covered by Col. Philip Skeene's second grant, and was all in- cluded in the New York county of Charlotte, of which Skeenesborough was the county seat.
The inhabitants of the N. H. Grants divid- ed their new State into two counties, Cum- berland and Bennington .*
* See Bennington, Caledonia, and Chittenden Conn- ty chapters, vol. i .: also Franklin and Orange County chapters, Vol. ii. of this work .- Ed.
Fair Haven-from what cause called by this name we are unable to say-was thus brought within the bounds of Bennington county.
Oct 27, 1779, in the second year of the State, the Gen. Assembly, convened at Man- chester, granted petitions for acts of incorpo- ration for the two towns of Fair Haven and Benson.
The charter of Fair Haven was granted at Manchester, Oct. 27, 1779. The grant was made in consideration of £6930 and signed, at Arlington, by Governor Thomas Chitten- den, Apr. 26, 1782. The grantees were :
Ebenezer Allen, Isaac Clark, Samuel Her- rick, George Foot, Jesse Belknap, John Grant, Oliver Cleveland, John Smith, Gilbert Mallery, Aaron Adams, James Brookins, Elisha Hamilton, Wm. Seymour, Daniel Owen. Stephen Pearl, John How, Benjamin Cutler, Derrick Carner, Isaac Knapp, Ira Al- len, Elisha Baker, Nathaniel Smith, Joseph Averist, Lemuel Robberts, Jonas Galusha, Zadoc Averist, Noah Allen, Matthew Lyon, Ebenezer Frisbe, Lemuel Payne, Joseph Haven, Wm. Williams, Ezra Allen, Ralph Watson, Stephen Mead, Stephen Fay, John Payne, jr., Nathan Allen, Stephen Rice, Asa Joiner, Samuel Allen, Jacob Ruback, Philip Priest, John Fassett, jr., Nathan Clark, Eleazer Dudley, Elisha Ashley, Stephen R. Bradley, Jesse Sawyer, Wm. Ashley, Oliver Sanford, Asa Dudley, Solomon Wilder, Israel Trowbridge, Elisha Clark, Elijah Galusha, Wm. Stewart, Cephas Smith, Samuel Josiah Grant, Andrew Carner, Robert Clark, Thomas Chittenden, Solomon Lathrop, Hope La- throp, Thomas Ashley, Benjamin Richardson, Jonathan Brooks, Thomas Taylor, David Wheeler, Giles Pettibone, Noah Smith, John Hamilton, Samuel Kent, Israel Smith, Eliza- beth Chittenden, Benjamin Everst.
Among the original grantees, or proprie- tors, are the nanies of Col. Matthew Lyon, Oliver Cleveland, Philip Priest, Israel Trow- bridge, Derrick Carner, and Eleazer Dudley, who were settlers in the town. The condi- tions of the charter were the same as other charters of this period in this State.
The first deed of land was made at Man- chester, the same day with the grant, by Zadoc Everst, then of Manchester, to Elisha Hamilton, of Tinmouth, both proprietors.
Of the state of the country previous to this time it is difficult to speak, on account of the
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absence of direct records. It will be our aim to write what is known, or may justly be in- ferred to be matter of historical truth.
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During the Revolutionary War the territo- ry was not improved to any considerable ex- tent : along the shore of the lake and the bor- ders of the bay and rivers, there were a few settlements commenced, but mainly the town was a wilderness.
Maj. Ebenezer Allen, of Tinmouth, and Capt. Isaac Clark, of Castleton, appear to have had "a hunting camp" on one of the large ledges in West Haven and not far from Benson line, with paths leading to and from the same in various directions, before the town was chartered, and probably before the State government was organized The pro- prietors met at this camp, Aug. 21st 1780, to commence the survey of their several pro- prietary pitches.
There are traces still existing confirmatory of early indirect records, that a body of Hes- sian soldiers came up the East Bay during the war, and aband ning their boats at the foot of "Carvers Falls," cut a road thence through the woods on the New York side, to Poultney river at a point a little below its junction with the Castleton river, at the south end of the old Merritt farm, where they threw over a bridge long afterward known and called the " Hessian bridge," over which they crossed the river and cleared a road east- ward toward Castleton and Hubbardton by way of the large hill south of Hiram Hamil- ton's, which, on account of their hollowing out a stump on the top of the hill was called " Hessian Bowl Hill." By this " Hessian road," where it came away from the river, the surveys and deeds of Mr. Merritt's farm were afterwards bounded.
Another detachment of Burgoyne's army passed through this town after the battle of Hubbardton, in July, 1777, and it is thought, made a road south of the river, passing near Otis Eddy's, and along the north side of the celar swamp below J. W. Estey's house and thence crossing the Poultney river S. and W., either creating or following what was long subsequently known as Skeene's road. On a rude map of this region, printed in London, in January, 1779, by order of Governor Wmn. Tryon, of New York, there are two roads branching out of one, about on the east of this town, and diverging S. W. across the territory of Gen. Skeene.
At what precise date the first squatters came into this district we have not the means of determining, but know from existing records at or about the time the charter was obtained-which was done chiefly through the efforts of Maj. Ebenezer Allen and Gen. Isaac Clark, who had traversed the territory in their hunting excursions-there were a few persons resident in the town, and actual set- tlers began to come in and take up the land under the proprietor's titles.
Oliver Cleveland, an active pioneer in the settlement and organization was one of those who had made improvements before the act of incorporation, and appears to be the only one of the original settlers who is represent- ed in the charter. He had come from Kil- lingworth, Ct., and sat down with other members of his father's family, on what is now New York, or Hampton side of the river, then called "Greenfield," which it was at that time expected would be in Vermont, the State line or boundary between the two States not being as yet settled.
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