Orson, and one girl, Fanny, while Abner Dimock raised a family of
girls, Lovey, Manerva, Luna, Hannah, Arminia, Abigail, and one boy,
Abner.
Warren Richardson crossed the Hopyard, wooed and won Luna Dimock, and
they built their nest near Wabbaquassett Lake, where the flowers bloom
in early spring, wild birds awake the summer morn and the babbling
brook sings through the winding vale below, all day long.
Here they raised a group of laughing, frolicing, romping backwoods
mischief and their names were:
Mariette A.--Married Frank Slater.
Eliza L.--Married Lucius Kibbes.
Adelia A.--Married Epaphro Dimock.
Caroline C.--Married Lucius Aborn.
Collins W.--Married Martha Aborn.
Merrick A.--Married Mary Hoyt.
Gordon M.--Married Amanda Pitt.
Janette A.--Married George Newell.
Wabbaquassett retained its virgin bloom of nature long after the
surrounding country had been occupied by white invaders.
Stafford, Ellington, Somers and Tolland Streets had become
self-centered, while the sleeping beauty, Wabbaquassett, was held
by the Nipmunks as a sort of rendezvous for the Pequods, Mohegans.
Mohawks, Narragansetts and several other tribes who were roaming over
New England, stealing fowls, cattle and even children, for the red
man felt that the brooks, lakes and forests, together with all they
contained, virtually belonged to him.
Wabbaquassett of old, with its broad sandy shore, dreaming in the
protecting arms of a dense forest of oak, pine, chestnut and maple
giants was truly the gem of New England.
When the Richardsons, Dimocks, Newells and Aborns began their
encroachment into these forests the Indians were loath to leave their
pow-wow home in the oak grove, on the south shore of the lake, for
the American Indian dreaded the law more than the tomahawk, but the
following instance routed them.
A buck named Wappa, who lived on the shore, south of the old West Rock,
killed his squaw, Dianah, for which he was tried at Tolland Street and
hanged. On the gallows he saw Captain Abner Dimock, my mother's father,
among the spectators and called for him to come on the gallows and pray
for him.
My father and mother were in the crowd and when the sheriff asked the
Indian if he was ready, mother fainted. The execution took place August
22, 1816, after which the Indians left Wabbaquassett and never returned.
In those days, Wabbaquassett, since called Square Pond, and now Crystal
Lake, was the nucleus of four prominent families, Dimocks, Richardsons,
Newells and Aborns.
The group consisted of the following families:
Abner Dimock Anson Newell
Orwell Dimock Armherst Newell
Ephraim Dimock Charles Newell
Lorain Dimock Ezekiel Newell
Sexton Dimock Ephraim Newell
Warren Richardson Lucius Aborn
Orson Richardson Parkel Aborn
Marvin Richardson Morton Aborn
John Richardson Gilbert Aborn
Royal Richardson Jedediah Aborn
Of these twenty families in 1850 I now find, at the Lake, only one
descendant, A. M. Richardson, son of my brother, Collins, who with his
interesting wife, Bessie, actually holds the fort alone.
WOODCHUCK IN THE WALL
Recently when my son Arthur and myself with our families were touring
with automobile over the Alleghanies, up the sea-shore, and over
the Green Mountains, we spent several days at the Lake, with many
old-timers who came to meet us, when they coaxed me to tell the
woodchuck story, which ran as follows: Bow-wow-wow is heard on the
hillside across the little meadow from our old farm house. We boys,
Gordon and I, drop our hoes and run, for we knew by the sound that old
Skip had a woodchuck in the wall and wanted us to come and get him out.
"Hold on, Gordon," said I, "now is the time for us to give our Towser a
chance."
Towser was a young bull terrier, we boys had bought of Holmes, who had
recommended him to be able to catch the largest ox by the nose and hold
him, or catch a hog by the ear and hold the hog, or off would come the
ear, and as for woodchucks, he would pick them up as a hen would pick
up kernels of corn.
Our Towser, as we boys called him, was at once unchained and we were
off to the pasture on the hillside, where in days gone by, old Skip had
captured so many woodchucks.
As we ran along, the conversation ran thus:
"Hey-hey, Towser," said I, "Mr. Woodchuck don't know that you're
coming; he thinks it is old Skip, but when he sees you, he will know
that he's got to die."
"Oh, dear," said Gordon, "when he gets those great white teeth on to
him, won't the blood fly? I hope he won't swallow him whole, for we
want his hide to make shoe strings."
"You bet," said I. Then patting the dog on the head, I continued:
"Won't old Skip be ashamed when he sees you, Towser?"
Skip was a little brindle cur who had watched the whole farm night and
day for ten years. He would never worry the cat or chase the chickens,
but would speak, roll over, sit up, or play he was dead, to please us
boys. He could hustle the cattle out of the corn, keep the pigs from
the door and had kept all the rabbits and woodchucks away from the
garden. In fact, he was a friend to everyone except Towser. Of course,
he was jealous of him.
When we boys arrived on the scene, we found old Skip bounding over the
wall back and forth, barking, squealing, pawing and biting off roots in
his great excitement, while the woodchuck was chattering, whistling and
snapping his teeth in great shape.
"Oh, look here, Gordon," said I, as I peeped into the wall, "He is as
big as two tomcats; it must be the one father said had been nibbling
all our green pumpkins."
"Yes, yes," says Gordon, "Pa said Skip has been trying to get between
him and his hole all summer, and now our Towser has got him at last.
Say, Merrick, don't you think we had better let Skip kill him. I'm
afraid that Towser will tear him all to flitters and we won't have his
hide left."
Now there was a terrible yelping and we discovered that the big bulldog
was shaking little Skip unmercifully. We clubbed him off, and tried to
drive Skip home, as, of course, we would not need him any more, but he
would not go, so we tied him to a white birch tree with Towser's chain
and continued tearing down the wall.
Gordon's countenance took on a sort of a funeral aspect as he said,
"Now, Mr. Woodchuck, you have got to die."
"Yes," said I, as I jammed my dirty thumb into my mouth to keep from
weeping, "My heart aches for him, but it has got to be done."
Towser was anxious to get at the woodchuck. Everytime we boys rolled
off a stone, he would jam his head into the wall, so anxious was he to
get at his prey, while poor little Skip, who should have had the honor,
was up under the white birch tree trying to break the chain and come
down and help, not even minding his bleeding ear, where Towser had bit
him.
At last the right stone was removed and the unfortunate old woodchuck
could do no better than face grim death, and he did it bravely.
Standing on his little hind legs, with his front paws extended, he
chattered defiance, while snapping his white teeth and awaiting the
onslaught.
Towser plunged into the wall and out came the woodchuck, but to our
surprise, Towser had not got the woodchuck, but the woodchuck had
Towser right by the nose.
Over and over they rolled as the blood squirted from the dog's nose,
each sommersault working them farther and farther down the swale in
the direction of the woodchuck's hole. Towser roared, bellowed and
squealed, but the woodchuck would not let go his lucky hold.
We boys saw the danger of escape and I, seizing a club, started on to
help Towser, while Gordon ran to unchain Skip, as it began to look now
as if old Skip's help might be necessary after all.
The clever old woodchuck, who was watching to take advantage of the
first favorable opportunity, when he saw Skip coming, let go his grip
and started for his hole. Towser, who was also figuring for his own
personal safety, when released, curled his tail between his legs and
started for home, crying "ki-yi-yi-yi."
Skip bounded forward just in time to seize his woodchuckship by the
tail, just as he was entering the hole. Now a desperate struggle
ensued, the woodchuck trying to pull the dog into the hole and the dog
trying to pull the woodchuck out.
Skip was losing ground, when, seizing him by the hind legs, I planted
my bare feet in the gravel and pulled with all my might. The woodchuck
chattered and squealed, the dog shook and growled, as I pulled them
out, when the tail broke, he darted into the hole, and the game was
lost.
Then we boys took Skip up to the spring and washed his poor bleeding
ear and promised him right then and there that we would take Towser
back to Mr. Holmes and that he, Skip, might run the farm as long as he
lived.
Lemuel Warner followed up the woodchuck story by acting out, in his
genial manner, the stuttering man trying to testify in prayer-meeting.
Orino Richardson and Perlin Richardson came in with their extremely
ridiculous tales, followed by hymns and old plantation songs.
In all this we seemed to forget ourselves, with the fifty years of ups
and down on Life's tempestuous waves, and in friendly glee we were
back again in that fair morning, dreamily anticipating Life's strange
journey, so unlike the reality fond memory now reveals.
Together we all visited the cemeteries on the hill at the north, where
the rippling waves of old Wabbaquassett click along the shore so near
the feet of those whose voices we do not hear, but whose sweet smiles
seem to reflect back to us their beauty as our earthly vision grows dim.
Soon the stranger will pause to read and say: "Who were all these
Richardsons, Newells, Aborns and Dimocks?" In the silence reason seems
to whisper: They came forth in the dawn; enjoyed a brief day; and
returned to the silence of an endless Eternity.
"Now dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollections present them to view;
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew.
The wide-spreading Pond, and the Mill that stood by it,
The Bridge and the Rock where the cataract fell;
The Cot of my Father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e'en the rude Bucket which hung in the Well."
SUNDAY MORNING
Father and mother did not marry until their home had been established,
but they lost no time when they got started, for, thirteen years gave
them a brood of eight children.
Father was a shrewd dealer in land and cattle, through which he gained
enough to purchase about 350 acres of wild land and built a house and
barn, while mother, as was customary for New England women, braided
palm leaf hats for the slaves of the Southern planters, until she had
saved enough to furnish the house. Then they got married.
Our living room was the big kitchen, where we warmed ourselves by the
old-fashioned fireplace while the pots and kettles hung on the crane
before us. Beside it was a brick oven, where mother baked the good
things, especially on Thanksgiving Day, when we did not fill up with
old common potatoes.
The parlor, which we were seldom allowed to enter, was to a little boy
dazzling. Looking-glass, with gilded frame, paper of many colors, and
high-shining brass andirons in the fireplace.
Sunday morning we all gathered there for family worship and one morning
father gave us a lesson on "Inspiration," which has nerved me up to
fight infidelity all my days.
He had quite a collection of books and one day he brought home a book
on geology, from which, after studying it evenings, he declared that
the creation of the world in science and the Bible exactly agreed.
That lesson and the surroundings on that sunny Sabath morning is one of
the old landmarks in my memory to which I often return in moments of
reflection.
"Now children," he began, "no one knows who wrote the first chapter of
Genesis, which appears to have no connection with the other chapters.
It may have been written by Moses, his sister, Miriam, or some other
person along about that time, say four or five thousand years ago. The
strange thing about it is that, according to their new geology, the
writer revealed the secrets of that which transpired millions of years
ago.
"People had supposed, until about one hundred years ago, that the first
chapter of Genesis was a fable, or fairy tale, but now geology proves
it to have been a true history of what the writer knew nothing about.
"It must have been that an angel who had lived all through the time the
world was being made, sat right beside or in some way influenced the
author to write the wonderful story of the creation. This is what I
call real inspiration, don't you?
"Some folks think, and I would not wonder if it might be true, that
fiction is a faint glimmer of inspiration, and that composers are
often led along by the spirit of some person who once lived in this
world. Let this be as it may, I wish one of you children might become a
novelist, but you never will, you will be farmers just like all us New
England mountaineers.
"Learned men have discovered, by digging in the rocky surface of the
earth, that under certain conditions, oysters or other animals, will
turn to stone. They call them fossils. Scientists have also learned
that each kind, wherever found, represents the age in which the animal
lived. So, the fossil, you see, is an animal which died and turned to
stone, perhaps millions of years ago.
"By investigation they find that one kind of rock, called azoic,
contains no fossils, so they know there was a day or age when there was
no life in this world, and this is the first day in the Bible, which I
have been reading to you.
FIRST DAY
"They find by the conglomerate condition of the azoic rock that after
the gaseous confusion of the elements had subsided, it sort of settled
into one boiling mass of mixed elements. Then the heavier elements,
gold, mercury, lead and the like, condensed and formed a center of
attraction, while the more rare elements, such as oxygen, hydrogen and
nitrogen, formed a floating band around it, then, as the Bible states,
darkness must have been upon the face of the deep until the lighter
elements rarefied, when the sun would feebly penetrate in the daytime
and the rotation of the world would make it correspond to the first day
and night of the Bible.
SECOND DAY
"This day, in which the firmament was formed, is wonderful in that it
was preparation for the day when the land should appear, as it would
need rain to make the vegetation grow. Man's highest imagination cannot
grasp or conceive the wonders of this strange scheme. It really meant
condensing part of the water to become liquid, or seas, and raising
part to become clouds, or rain, as we now find them. So again the two
accounts agree as to the second day.
THIRD DAY
"Seas and land appear. This Bible account exactly agrees with the
carboniferous and crustacean births which followed on through the ages,
when vegetation grew in such abundance that its decay, when submerged
by eruptions, laid the foundations for our coal and oil fields.
FOURTH DAY
"While the former days occupied millions of years each, this day
was not a duration of time, not even one moment. It was simply an
illustration of the then present conditions. Had we been on earth
at that time we would have seen all the heavenly bodies and their
movements just as this Bible account describes, and as we see them now.
FIFTH DAY
"As the fourth Bible day did not include time to produce geological
changes, the two ages divonian, or fish, and amphibious, or reptilian,
ages exactly fit in to make up the fifth day.
"Could we have visited the earth when it first became solid with the
sea floating over it, we would have seen at the bottom of the sea
animals of the oyster family beginning to live in their shells, which
later they took up and carried around on their backs, and now we call
them turtles. We know they were there, for they are still sleeping in
their little stone coffins on mountain tops, which God raised up when
He made dry land. God called them all moving creatures, which have
life, which, of course, included fish and frogs.
"Now hark, I will read the twentieth verse over again. There now, you
see God did not make the birds up in the mountains and tell them to
fly. He made them in the water, I guess He fixed legs where the fins
were, so they could hop and crawl, and then fixed wings where the legs
were, so they could fly, and this exactly corresponds to the reptilian
age in geology. That transformation must have made even God stop and
think, for it took millions of years. Many kinds came out of the water,
so you see we have many kinds of birds on the land. Some of them were
awfully large. One, geologists call the Pterodactyl, had a mouth and
teeth like a horse, tail like a fish or snake, and wings which he could
spread more than twenty-five feet. I imagine it flew from shore to
shore catching turtles for breakfast, who were out on the sand laying
eggs as big as our old peck measure.
SIXTH DAY
"God made cattle and all other big walking things, and all the creeping
things.
"The family of largest animals are called Dinosaur. Their fossil
bones are found in the Rocky Mountains. They must have lived there on
the plains before the upheavel of the mountains. Some of them were
about one hundred feet long and twenty-five feet high. In New Jersey,
geologists have dug up the fossil bones of an animal they call the
Iguanodon, a sort of frog with a snake tail; when he sat up his head
was about thirty feet high. Had he lived on men he would have eaten
three for dinner. It seems that when those animals raised up on all
four, like elephants, they lost their fish-like tails, except to use
as fly whiskers. Those animals lived all through what is called the
mammalian age in geology, or the sixth day in the Bible.
"Now, children, this twenty-fifth verse ends up the creation of the
world and all its animals. Then God called a halt and said, 'Let us
make something special.' What was it?" "Man, man," we said. "What was
man to be like?" "Just like God himself."
"Is God an animal?"
"No."
"What is He?"
"Nobody knows."
"Think again, what did I read last Sunday about Christ at Jacob's well?"
"Oh, yes, God is a spirit."
"Then is man a spirit or an animal?"
"Both," I said.
"How so, Merrick?"
"Why, God made she-male man and he-male man of dirt, so they could have
a lot of children. Then the image man, we cannot see, who was to do the
thinking, was to have dominion, that means it was to boss themselves
and everything else around. That is the man that goes to Heaven when he
dies."
"How is that, Luna, for a boy of eight years old?" he said to mother.
"You are all right, Merrick," she said, drawing me to her for a kiss.
"Now, you must try to govern yourself and not be so stubborn, even if
you do think you are in the right. Let wisdom instead of spunk be your
guide, and then the angels will be with you in your dreams and our
pretty school-ma'am will not have to switch you so often."
"Pretty school-ma'am, eh! Why, she walks just exactly like a cow."
HUSKING BEE
One of my earliest recollections is of hearing mother telling a
neighbor housewife about the prayer meeting up at Uncle Sam's. Mother
was a great tease, and to see her act out Aunt Lovey in this particular
case was enough to make the bushes laugh.
In order to picture the scene at the prayer meeting, I will give one of
mother's escapades by the way of contrast between Lovey, Uncle Sam's
wife, and her wide-awake sisters, of which mother was accused of being
the ring leader in many daring acts. Therefore, I will begin with the
story of the husking bee at Grandfather Dimock's home, when mother was
a girl.
At a husking in those days all in the neighborhood would gather, not so
much, I imagine, to husk corn as for the frolic, and the good things
they had to eat.
The custom was to set the shocks of corn around a large circle and
all husk from the outside. Then if a lady found a red ear she was
privileged, if she dare, to throw it across a space at a man whom, if
she hit, was privileged to chase her around the outer ring, for which
if he caught her while on the circuit he could kiss her.
Well, mother found a red ear and she threw it at the minister, hitting
him, whack! side of the head. His name was Frink, a real minister of
the Gospel, yet he could not allow such an opportunity to escape, so he
dropped his dignity and started.
[Illustration: GIRL RUNNING REPRESENTS MY MOTHER WHEN 16. FRINK, THE
MINISTER, CHASING FOR A KISS WHICH HE DID NOT GET.]
The arranged plan was that all should get out of the way to give the
lady a chance to run, while the real plan was for all to stumble into
the way and see the fun.
Mother, finding it impossible to break through, turned quickly and lit
out for the orchard. This bold but admirable act caused 200 huskers
to raise on tip-toe, for it was a pretty scene in the moonlight to
see the daring maid, clad in a pretty white frock, dodging among the
dark shadows of the apple trees, evading the terrific lunges of her
eager pursuer, whose physiognomy took on a strange earnestness which
betokened his consideration that the prize was worth striving for.
When the girl, by artful dodging, escaped and struck out for home, old
Jasiah Bradley, forgetting his 80 years, roared out, "Stand back! Stand
back! Give the girl a chance," at which two rows quickly formed, giving
the girl, whose knee action betokened great speed, a clear way until
as she crossed the line, Frink extended his hand to grab, but did not
catch her.
This illustration represents the innocent dare of the family to which
mother belonged, except the oldest Lovey, who was very sedate, and in
this case said that Luna ought to be spanked and put to bed. Lovey wore
her skirts very long and would walk way around to pass through the
gate, while her astonishing sisters would jump or climb over the fence
and whistle just like boys.
PRAYER MEETING AT UNCLE SAM'S
Lovey married Samuel Harwood. They built their home on Chestnut Hill,
where they raised a fine family. Monroe was their youngest son, who
figured very seriously in the catastrophy I am about to relate.
Uncle Sam and Aunt Lovey were both strictly religious, but did not
agree as to the mode of procedure. She threw her whole religious weight
on the sixth verse of the sixth chapter of Matthew, while he was a
roaring Methodist. Together they attended church on Sunday, but Lovey
never attended the weekly home prayer meetings, neither would she allow
the church to have one at her home, and so they worshiped for years
until Sam's grey locks and the children's clamor induced her to try it
just once. Such an unusual event caused the whole church to turn out in
mass for a real good spiritual uplifting.
Their house, which my wife and I rode by last time we were in
Connecticut, is of the old dominion style. Kitchen, dining and living
rooms all in one, and very commodious. Under the stairs to the second
story were the stairs to the deep, dark cellar below, of which there
was no broad stair at the top, and the cellar door opened into the
cellar.
On that memorable evening the room was crammed to suffocation when
the meeting opened with the hymn, "On Jordan's Stormy Banks I Stand."
Then Abner Dimock, who always prayed so loud as to be heard a mile,
and several others, led in prayer, which was followed by inspiring
testimonials, to all of which Uncle Sam chimed in Amen, amid the shouts
of halleluiah, while Aunt Lovey sat in dreamy silence, with her nose
turned just a trifle askance.
The pinnacle was reached when Anise Ladd arose to testify, for every
one knew Anise poured forth her feelings without reserve.
"I," she began, "was born peevish and as my neighbors can here testify,
was, to say the least, irritable through my maiden and middlehood
earthly career, but last winter at our revival meetings, I experienced
a genuine halleluiah wave of godliness, and now I coo like a turtle
dove and fret or scold no more."
To Uncle Sam, who was tipping back in his chair, this wonderful
halleluiah testimony so coincided with his desires toward Lovey, that
he shouted, "Glory to God," as in the expansion of his joy he lost his
balance, his chair striking the cellar door, which flew open, causing
him, still in the chair, to start, head downwards, on his perilous
journey into the dismal region below. He did not swear, neither did he
shout halleluiah, but fresh grunts followed in rapid succession as he
pounded from stair to stair.