Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
public domain.
SCHOOL-DAYS IN 1800;
OR,
Education as it was a Century Since.
BY
LUCY ELLEN GUERNSEY.
AUTHOR OF
"IRISH AMY," "COMFORT ALLISON," "OPPOSITE NEIGHBOURS,"
"NELLY, OR, THE BEST INHERITANCE," "TWIN ROSES," "ETHEL'S TRIAL,"
"RHODA'S EDUCATION," "THE TAME TURTLE," ETC.
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[Illustration: The UNION PRESS
Philadelphia.]
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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by the
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
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WESTCOTT & THOMSON,
_Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada._
PREFACE.
—————
I HAVE tried in these pages to give a faithful record of a state of
manners the memory of which is fast passing away. I have drawn my
materials from original sources for the most part, and I am specially
indebted to Mrs. Chloe Sheldon, an old lady who died in Rochester last
summer in her hundred and fourth year. She was a woman of uncommonly
acute mind, and retained her faculties to the very last. The story,
such as it is, carries its own moral.
L. E. G.
GRANDMOTHER'S PREFACE.
—————
MY great-grand-daughter Alice Brown, who is at present confined to
the house by a sprained ankle, has persuaded me to repeat to her some
passages of my early life that she may write them down. She thinks
the doing so will be an amusement both to herself and me, and she is
pleased also to say that she believes a record of such early times will
be worth preserving. Alice is a good child, and so kind and attentive
to me when she is able to be about that it is no more than fair I
should give her a pleasure when it is in my power. And Alice says also
what is quite true—that the memory of those old times is fading day by
day. I never was one of those who are always saying that the former
times are better than these, but I cannot think it well that the young
folks of the present day should think (as some of them seem to think)
that their ancestors were all ignorant and half savage.
I know that a great deal more is made of education now than was ever
the case in my time, but I am not sure that any more is learned. On
the whole, it seems to me that people use the word "education" wrongly
when it is made to mean only what is learned out of books. I think
when I was teaching my daughter Rachel, Alice's grandmother, to spin
wool and flax and to sew and make butter and cheese, I was carrying
on her education as much, and perhaps as usefully, as if I had been
teaching her geometry and metaphysics. Not that I have any objection
to having girls learn mathematics and all the other sciences if they
have the time and the health. When I had a young ladies' school of
my own, I always tried to give my girls "hungry minds" for all kinds
of knowledge. But if they must either give up the science or give up
helping at home, I know which I think ought to go. But this is by the
way.
I have chosen to write this introduction with my own hand, for I am
thankful to say that, though I am ninety years old this very day, I
can still write and sew and thread my own needle with the help of my
glasses. But I find my hand somewhat stiff when I try to write long at
a time, and also, I think, Alice will be amused with setting down the
words as I shall dictate them to her. I have had many blessings in my
long life for which to be thankful, and it is not one of the least of
these that my grandchildren, upon whom I am dependent (if not for my
support, yet for that kindness, care, and cherishing love without which
life is worth little), have trained their children also to follow in
their footsteps, and to pay me that respect which the Bible says is due
to age and gray hairs.
OLIVIA BROWN.
NOTE BY ALICE BROWN.
I HAVE tried to set down this memoir or story just as grandmother
dictated it to me, and on that account there will be found, perhaps,
some words and expressions which, although not incorrect, are not in
use at the present day. I remember when we studied grammar with our
dear Miss Hilliard she made us understand the difference between words
and expressions which were obsolete or old-fashioned and those which
were ungrammatical or vulgar. But I have thought the story would be
more interesting if I wrote it in the dear old lady's own words. I
have often tried to persuade her to write a memoir of her own life
or let me do so, but I do not suppose the work would ever have been
commenced if I had not sprained my ankle in running across the road to
save Mrs. Bell's baby, which was just under the feet of Mr. Antis's
horse. I am sure I don't regret saving the baby as I did, but I was
a good deal vexed about the sprain, which seemed to be one of those
which grandma calls unnecessary accidents, because, if Lucinda Bell had
been minding the baby instead of scolding Jeduthun Cooke because her
chickens ate his tomatoes, the thing would not have happened. But I am
almost reconciled to sitting still and being waited on, since my want
of amusement really brought grandmamma to the point of letting me write
down some of her early recollections.
ALICE BROWN.
BOONVILLE, August, 1874.
CONTENTS.
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CHAPTER
I.—EARLIEST DAYS
II.—EARLY RECOLLECTIONS
III.—GOING TO SCHOOL
IV.—THE TREASURE-SEEKERS
V.—SUNDAY
VI.—THE GREAT BREAK
VII.—AUNT BELINDA
VIII.—MY NEW HOME
IX.—THE DOLL'S TRAGEDY
X.—BOSTON DAYS
XI.—NEW CHANGES
XII.—ELMINA'S FORTUNE
XIII.—NEW SCENES
XIV.—NEW EXPERIENCES
XV.—ENGLISH DAYS
XVI.—ENGLISH SCHOOL-DAYS
XVII.—HOME AGAIN
XVIII.—HOME
XIX.—THE WEEKS OF SECLUSION
XX.—CONCLUSION
SCHOOL-DAYS IN 1800
GRANDMOTHER'S SCHOOL-DAYS.
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CHAPTER I.
_EARLIEST DAYS._
I WAS born in the town of Lee, Massachusetts, on the nineteenth day of
October, 1781. The day of my birth was the anniversary of my father's
forefathers' landing on this continent one hundred years before, and
also of the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown—a surrender which
really closed the Revolutionary war. My father, who was a dragoon all
through the Revolution, was present on that occasion, and has often
described the scene to us, telling us how the Germans wept as they
laid down their arms, and how the British officers showed their bitter
feelings by saluting the French officers on the American side, but
refusing even to return the salutes of the Americans. It was hard for
them, of course, but they certainly made the matter no better by such
an undignified display of temper.
My father's name was Richard Corbet. His family came from Devonshire,
and was a branch of a very old family in that country, as I was told
when I was in England. Our first ancestor in this country was named
Richard Corbet, like my father, and came over to Dorchester in 1680,
bringing with him his family and a very respectable property. He first
settled in Dorchester, where he was much respected, and from thence his
descendants spread over the country. It is said truly that no man's
worth depends on his ancestors; but yet I think it is very natural to
wish to know something of one's progenitors, and to take a little pride
in them if they are respectable people. (Alice says "progenitors" is a
long word, but I tell her everybody has a dictionary in these days.)
I do not know that my father's family were remarkable for anything but
a kind of sturdy, determined perseverance and honesty and a somewhat
warm temper, of which I inherited my full share. They were always
a good deal given to both reading and writing, and we have several
journals kept by some of them which are very pleasant reading.
My mother's family were also of English descent, but came over at an
earlier date. My mother was a daughter of Mr. David Evans of Salisbury,
in Connecticut—a gentleman who was extensively engaged in iron works in
that place. Before the Revolution he was accounted wealthy for those
times and that country, but he gave very largely to the patriotic
cause, besides lending a good deal to the government which he never
got back again. However, he was always "well off," as the saying is,
and gave his children, both boys and girls, an excellent education.
He had two boys and three girls, all of them rather distinguished for
beauty and talent, and of these children my mother was the youngest. I
have never seen a more lovely woman than my mother, nor a woman with a
more cultivated mind and taste, though she knew nothing of many things
which girls study nowadays. She was rather quiet and retiring—not so
brilliant as her sister, my aunt Lydia. But her cultivated mind was the
least of her graces. I have never known a more consistent Christian
than she showed herself in every walk of life, nor one who did more to
make those happy who came in her way. Her health was never good. She
had worked too hard when she was young, taking care of her grandmother,
who was a helpless paralytic for many years, and she was always subject
to nervous attacks and severe fits of sickness. People talk a great
deal of the decay of female health in these days, but I never see any
one have such hysteric fits now as used to be very common when I was
young. But with all her hindrances, my mother accomplished more work
than a great many who have the whole use of their time.
My father settled on a farm in Lee just before the breaking out of the
Revolution, and built himself a very good house. When he was married,
he took his bride home directly, without any wedding journey such
as is the fashion now. Her father had furnished her with everything
necessary in great abundance, and nobody could begin married life with
better prospects, though even then there was a cloud of war hanging low
in the sky, and certain mutterings of thunder which made wise folks
foretell a storm. In the second year of their marriage the storm broke
and separated my father most of the time for seven long years from his
wife and child, for he went into the first regiment of dragoons which
was raised in New England, and continued in the same till the end of
the war, only coming home now and then for a few weeks at a time. He
was in a great many engagements, passed through the disastrous winter
at Valley Forge, and "assisted," as the French say, at the surrender of
Lord Cornwallis, which virtually put an end to the war; yet he never
had a serious wound nor a dangerous fit of sickness. During his absence
my mother lived part of the time in her own house in Lee, and the rest
with her father in Salisbury.
When the troops were disbanded, and things were once more in a settled
way, my father and mother went to house-keeping again, and shortly
afterward I was born, and named Olivia, after my mother's mother, and
Yorktown, after a fancy of my father's, since I first saw the light,
as I have said, on the very day and hour of the surrender. My mother
has told me that she wished to call me Olivia Landon, after a favourite
aunt of her own, but my father would not consent, because my uncle
Landon's people were Tories. Uncle Landon adhered to the English side
during the war, and was so much in earnest that, rather than not live
under the king, he sold all his property and moved away to Halifax,
after which we lost sight of the family. It certainly showed that he
was sincere in his principles, for he had a beautiful place, for which
he never got half its value, and he gave up a very good business. I
don't think, either, that Halifax could ever have been a pleasant
place of residence. Mother was very fond of her aunt Landon, and used
sometimes to say that I resembled her—a remark which always rather
annoyed my father, who could see no good in a Tory.
My two Evans aunts married after my mother, and both did very well.
Aunt Lydia went to New York State. Her husband was a man of great
influence, a large land-owner and much respected. Aunt Roxana, who
was the youngest of my aunts, went to New Bedford on a visit to some
cousins, and there she fell in with Roger Swayne of Nantucket, captain
of a whaler, and married him out of hand. I have heard that her father
was not exactly pleased with the match—not that he had anything
against Roger Swayne, who was a most respectable man and well-to-do,
but he did not quite like the idea of his daughter marrying a sailor,
and a Quaker, as Roger was, at least by descent. However, he made no
opposition, seeing that the young people were bent upon it, but gave
her the same setting-out as he had done to her sisters.
I can just remember Roger Swayne and his wife being at our house on
a visit shortly after their marriage. I thought he was the nicest
uncle that ever lived, because he told us sea-stories and made us many
curious things with his knife—ships and boats, and some more useful
articles, for he whittled out a whole set of cedar clothes-pins for my
mother, and mended her spinning-wheel for her.
Shortly after Roxana's marriage, Grandfather Evans died, and the family
at Salisbury was broken up. Uncle David lived in the old house, it is
true, but Uncle William went to Boston, where he married a rich widow,
and succeeded to her first husband's business and property. He never
came to see us after his marriage, and indeed lived only a little while.
My father's family mostly lived down in Connecticut, and were
well-to-do farmers and mechanics. We used to exchange letters now and
then, but postage was dear and mails very irregular. Father was always
talking of taking mother to visit them, but a convenient time never
came.