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Transcriber's Note: Table of Contents / Illustrations added.
* * * * *
TRINITY COLLEGE, HARTFORD.
BY SAMUEL HART, D.D., PROFESSOR OF LATIN.
Illustrations:
Trinity College In 1869.
T. C. Brownell.
Trinity College In 1828.
J. Williams.
Statue Of Bishop Brownell, On The Campus.
Proposed New College Buildings.
Geo Williamson Smith.
James Williams, Forty Years Janitor Of Trinity College.
Bishop Seabury's Mitre, In The Library.
Chair Of Gov. Wanton, Of Rhode Island, In The Library.
Trinity College In 1885.
(Signature) N. S. Wheaton
(Signature) Silas Totten
(Signature) D. R. Goodwin
(Signature) Samuel Eliot
(Signature) J. B. Kerfoot
(Signature) A. Jackson
(Signature) T. R. Pynchon
The New Gymnasium.
College Logo.
THE WEBSTER FAMILY.
BY HON. STEPHEN M. ALLEN.
Illustration:
Marshfield--Residence Of Daniel Webster.
TO OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
ON HIS DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE.
BY EDWARD P. GUILD.
A ROMANCE OF KING PHILIP'S WAR.
BY FANNY BULLOCK WORKMAN.
THE PICTURE.
BY MARY D. BRINE.
NEW BEDFORD.
BY HERBERT L. ALDRICH.
Illustrations:
Old Whalers And Barrels Of Oil.
City Hall And Depot.
Front Street And Fish Markets Along The Wharves.
The Head Of The River.
Along The Wharfs And Relics Of The Last Century.
New Station Of The Old Colony Railroad.
Custom House.
Court House.
Grace Episcopal Church.
Looking Down Union Street.
Unitarian Church, Union Street.
Mandell's House, Hawthorne Street.
Residence Of Mayor Rotch.
The Stone Church And Yacht Club House.
Fish Island.
Seamen's Bethel And Sailor's Home.
Merchants' And Mechanics' Bank.
Residence Of Joseph Grinnell.
Friends Meeting-House.
Public Library.
HENRY BARNARD--THE AMERICAN EDUCATOR.
BY THE LATE HON. JOHN D. PHILBRICK.
A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS.
BY ANNA B. BENSEL.
JUDICIAL FALSIFICATIONS OF HISTORY.
BY CHARLES COWLEY, LL.D.
DORRIS'S HERO.
A ROMANCE OF THE OLDEN TIME.
BY MARJORIE DAW.
EDITOR'S TABLE.
HISTORICAL RECORD.
NECROLOGY.
LITERATURE.
INDEX TO MAGAZINE LITERATURE.
Illustration:
MARK HOPKINS, D.D., LL.D.
* * * * *
THE
NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE
AND
BAY STATE MONTHLY.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
OLD SERIES, MAY, 1886. NEW SERIES,
VOL. IV. NO. 5. VOL. I. NO. 5.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright, 1886, by Bay State Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
#TRINITY COLLEGE, HARTFORD.#
BY SAMUEL HART, D.D., PROFESSOR OF LATIN.
[Illustration: TRINITY COLLEGE IN 1869.]
The plan for the establishment of a second college in Connecticut was
not carried into effect until after the time of the political and
religious revolution which secured the adoption of a State Constitution
in 1818. Probably no such plan was seriously entertained till after the
close of the war of Independence. The Episcopal church in Connecticut
had, one may almost say, been born in the library of Yale College; and
though Episcopalians, with other dissenters from the "standing order,"
had been excluded from taking any part in the government or the
instruction of the institution, they did not forget how much they owed
to it as the place where so many of their clergy had received their
education. In fact, when judged by the standards of that day, it would
appear that they had at first little cause to complain of illiberal
treatment, while on the other hand they did their best to assist the
college in the important work which it had in hand. But Yale College,
under the presidency of Dr. Clap, assumed a more decidedly theological
character than before, and set itself decidedly in opposition to those
who dissented from the Westminster Confession of Faith and the Saybrook
Platform of Discipline. Besides, King's College, which had been lately
founded in New York, drew away some Episcopal students from Connecticut
and made others dissatisfied; and had not the war with the mother
country rudely put a stop to the growth of Episcopacy in the colony, it
would seem that steps might have been soon taken for the establishment
of some institution of learning, at least a school of theology, under
the care of the clergy of the Church of England.
[Illustration: (signature) T. C. Brownell]
[Illustration: TRINITY COLLEGE IN 1828.]
At any rate no sooner was it known that the war was ended than the
churchmen of Connecticut sent the Rev. Dr. Seabury across the ocean
to seek consecration as a bishop; and it was not long after his return
that the diocese, now fully organized, set on foot a plan for the
establishment of an institution of sound learning, and in 1795 the
Episcopal Academy of Connecticut was founded at Cheshire. It was
sometimes called Seabury College, and, under its learned principals, it
fitted many young men for entrance upon their theological studies, and
gave them part at least of their professional training. But its charter,
which was granted by the General Assembly of the State in 1801, did not
give it the power of conferring degrees, and the frequent petitions for
an extension of charter rights, so as to make of the academy a
collegiate institution, were refused. For a time, owing to determined
opposition in the State, to the vacancy in the episcopate, and to other
causes, the project was postponed. But a combination of events, social,
political, and religious, led at length to the great revolution in
Connecticut, in which all dissenters from the standing order united
in opposition to it, and secured in 1818, though it was by a small
majority, the adoption of a State Constitution containing a clause which
admitted of "secession" from any ecclesiastical society and secured
perfect religious equality before the law.
[Illustration: (signature) J. Williams]
[Illustration: STATUE OF BISHOP BROWNELL, ON THE CAMPUS.]
In the following year, while the enthusiasm of the victory was still
felt, the vacant episcopate was filled by the election of the Rev. Dr.
Thomas Church Brownell, who had been for ten years tutor and professor
in Union College, a man of learning, profoundly interested in education,
and qualified for the varied duties which lay upon him as Bishop of
Connecticut. He soon availed himself of this favorable opportunity for
renewing the plans for the establishment of a college. There was much
strong opposition to be encountered, and the student of the pamphlet
literature of the day finds much to excite his interest and his wonder
in the attacks upon the proposed "Second College in Connecticut"--"Seabury
College," as it was sometimes called. The whole matter was curiously
complicated with discussions as to political and financial matters, the
many questions between the recently disestablished order and its opponents
not having been fully settled as yet. At last, on the 13th day of May,
1823, a petition for a college charter was presented to the General
Assembly, and the act of incorporation of Washington College passed the
lower house three days later, and soon received the assent of the senate
and the approval of the governor. The name selected for the institution was
not that which its friends would have preferred; but the honored name of
Washington was adopted partly, as it would appear, because others than
Episcopalians united in the establishment of the college, and partly that
there could be no ground of opposition to it on account of its name. Among
the corporators associated with Bishop Brownell were some of the prominent
clergy and laity of the diocese, such as the Rev. Drs. Harry Croswell
and N. S. Wheaton, Gov. John S. Peters, the Hon. Nathan Smith, the Hon.
Elijah Boardman, the Hon. Asa Chapman, Com. McDonough, and Mr. Charles
Sigourney; and there were added to them representatives of the other
opponents of the old establishment, among them the Rev. Samuel Merwin
and the Rev. Elisha Cushman. It was expressly provided in the charter
that no religious test whatever should be required of any president,
professor, or other officer, and that the religious tenets of no person
should be made a condition of admission to any privilege in the college.
Even before the charter containing this clause was granted, it produced
a most important effect; for, on the 12th day of May, 1823,--it was
believed, as a last effort of opposition,--the corporation of Yale
College met in Hartford, and repealed the test act which required of all
its officers, even of professors in the medical school, a subscription
to the Saybrook Platform.
[Illustration: PROPOSED NEW COLLEGE BUILDINGS.]
[Illustration: (signature) Geo. Williamson Smith]
The trustees of the new college were authorized to locate it in any town
in the State as soon as $30,000 should be secured for its support; and
when it was found that more than three-fourths of the sum of $50,000,
which was soon subscribed, was the gift of citizens of Hartford, who
thus manifested in a substantial way the interest which they had
previously expressed, it was decided to establish Washington College in
that city. A site of fourteen acres on an elevation, then described as
about half a mile from the city, was secured for the buildings, and in
June, 1824, Seabury Hall and Jarvis Hall (as they were afterwards
called) were begun. They were of brown stone, following the Ionic order
of architecture, well proportioned, and well adapted to the purposes for
which they were designed. The former, containing rooms for the chapel,
the library, the cabinet, and for recitations, was designed by Prof. S.
F. B. Morse, and the latter, having lodging-rooms for nearly a hundred
students, was designed by Mr. Solomon Millard, the architect of Bunker
Hill Monument. The buildings were not completed when, on the 23d of
September, 1824, one senior, one sophomore, six freshmen, and one
partial student were admitted members of the college; and work was begun
in rooms in the city. The faculty had been organized by the election of
Bishop Brownell as president, the Rev. George W. Doane (afterwards
Bishop of New Jersey), as professor of _belles-lettres_ and oratory, Mr.
Frederick Hall as professor of chemistry and mineralogy, Mr. Horatio
Hickok as professor of agriculture and political economy (he was, by the
way, the first professor of this latter science in this country), and
Dr. Charles Sumner as professor of botany. The instruction in the
ancient languages was intrusted to the Rev. Hector Humphreys, who was
soon elected professor, and who left the college in 1830 to become
President of St. John's College, Maryland. The chair of mathematics and
natural philosophy was filled in 1828 by the election of the Rev.
Horatio Potter, now the venerable Bishop of New York. The learned Rev.
Dr. S. F. Jarvis soon began his work in and for the college, under the
title of Professor of Oriental Literature; and the Hon. W. W. Ellsworth
was chosen professor of law. The provision which was announced in the
first statement published by the trustees, that students would be
allowed to enter in partial courses without becoming candidates for a
degree, was a new feature in collegiate education, and a considerable
number of young men were found who were glad to avail themselves of it.
It is believed, also, that practical instruction in the natural sciences
was given here to a larger extent than in most other colleges.
[Illustration: JAMES WILLIAMS,
Forty Years Janitor of Trinity College; died 1878.]
[Illustration: BISHOP SEABURY'S MITRE, IN THE LIBRARY.]
In 1826 there were fifty undergraduates. A library had been obtained
which, in connection with Dr. Jarvis's, was called second in magnitude
and first in value of all in the country. The professor of mineralogy
had collected a good cabinet. There was a greenhouse and an arboretum;
and, besides gifts from friends at home, the Rev. Dr. Wheaton had been
successful in securing books and apparatus in England for the use of the
college.
[Illustration: CHAIR OF GOV. WANTON, OF RHODE ISLAND, IN THE LIBRARY.]
A doctor's degree was conferred in 1826 upon Bishop Jolly ("Saint Jolly"
he was called), of Scotland, but the first commencement was held in
1827, when ten young men were graduated. Of these, three died in early
life, and but one, the Rev. Oliver Hopson, survives. To a member of this
class, the Hon. Isaac E. Crary, the first president of the alumni, is
due no small share of the credit of organizing the educational system of
Michigan, which he represented both as a territory and as a State in the
Federal Congress. The Athenaeum Literary Society was organized in 1825,
and the Parthenon, the first president of which was the poet Park
Benjamin, in 1827. The Missionary Society, still in successful
operation, was founded in 1831, its first president being George Benton,
afterwards missionary to Greece and Crete, and from it, primarily
through the efforts of Augustus F. Lyde, of the class of 1830, came the
establishment of the foreign missions of the Episcopal Church of this
country.
[Illustration: TRINITY COLLEGE IN 1885.]
When Bishop Brownell retired from the presidency of the college in 1831,
in order to devote all his time to the work of the diocese, he was
succeeded by the Rev. Dr. N. S. Wheaton, an early, steadfast, and
liberal friend of the institution. He secured the endowment of two
professorships, and among the many good things which he planned and did
for the college should not be forgotten the taste with which he laid out
and beautified its grounds. To him succeeded, in 1837, the Rev. Dr.
Silas Totten, professor of mathematics. During his presidency of eleven
years, additions were made to the scholarship fund, and the foundation
of a library fund was laid; and in 1845 a third building, Brownell Hall,
was built, corresponding in appearance to Jarvis Hall, and, like it,
designed for occupation by students. In the same year, on the petition
of the corporation, who acted in the matter at the desire of the alumni,
the General Assembly of the State changed the name of the college to
TRINITY COLLEGE. The change was intended in part to prevent the
confusion which arose from the use of a name which the college had in
common with other institutions, in part to attest the faith of those who
had founded and who maintained the college, and in part to secure a name
which (especially at Cambridge in England) had been long associated with
sound learning. At the same time the alumni were organized into a
convocation as a constituent part of the academic body.
[Illustration: (signature) N. S. Wheaton]
[Illustration: (signature) Silas Totten]
In 1848 the Rev. Dr. John Williams, a graduate in the class of 1835,
who, though he was less than thirty-one years of age, had given ample
promise of extraordinary abilities, was chosen president, and he held
the office until 1854, when the duties of assistant bishop, to which he
had been consecrated in 1851, forced him to resign. He did much to
increase the library funds and to develop the course of academic
instruction. He also began instruction in theology, and an informal
theological department grew up, which was organized in 1854 as the
Berkeley Divinity School and located in Middletown. He was succeeded by
the Rev. Dr. D. R. Goodwin. In 1860 Prof. Samuel Eliot was chosen
president, and in 1864, the Rev. Dr. J. B. Kerfoot, who was called in
1866 to the bishopric of Pittsburgh. Under the care of these scholarly
men the college maintained and strengthened its position as a seat of
learning (though in the time of the civil war it suffered from depletion
in numbers), additions were made to the funds, and a new professorship
was founded. Among those whom the college gave to the war were Generals
G. A. Stedman and Strong Vincent, and the "battle-laureate of America,"
Henry H. Brownell.
[Illustration: (signature) D. R. Goodwin]
[Illustration: (signature) Samuel Eliot]
[Illustration: (signature) J. B. Kerfoot]
[Illustration: (signature) A. Jackson]
In June, 1867, the Rev. Dr. Abner Jackson, of the class of 1837,
formerly professor here, then President of Hobart College, was elected
president. Under his administration, in 1871-72, the number of
undergraduates, for the first time, reached a hundred. In 1871 the
legacy of Mr. Chester Adams, of Hartford, brought to the college some
$65,000, the largest gift thus far from any individual. In 1872, after
much discussion and hesitation, the trustees decided to accept the offer
of the city of Hartford, which desired to purchase the college campus
for a liberal sum, that it might be offered to the State as a site for
the new capitol, the college reserving the right to occupy for five or
six years so much of the buildings as it should not be necessary to
remove. In 1873 a site of about eighty acres, on a bluff of trap-rock in
the southern part of the city, commanding a magnificent view in every
direction, was purchased for the college, and President Jackson secured
elaborate plans for extensive ranges of buildings in great quadrangles.
The work, to which he devoted much time and thought, was deferred by his
death in April, 1874, but the Rev. Dr. T. R. Pynchon, of the class of
1841, who succeeded him in the presidency, entered vigorously upon the
labor of providing the college with a new home. Ground was broken in
1875, and in the autumn of 1878 two blocks of buildings, each three
hundred feet long, bearing the old names of Seabury and Jarvis Halls,
were completed. They stand on the brow of the cliff, having a broad
plateau before them on the east, and, with the central tower, erected in
1882 by the munificence of Col. C. H. Northam, they form the west side
of the proposed great quadrangle. Under Dr. Pynchon's direction the
former plans had been much modified, in order that this one range of
buildings might suffice for the urgent needs of the college, provision
being made for suitable rooms for the chapel, the library, and the
cabinet, as well as for lecture-rooms and for suites of students'
apartments. During his presidency the endowments were largely increased
by the generous legacies of Col. and Mrs. Northam, whose gifts to the
college amount to nearly a quarter of a million of dollars; large and
valuable additions were made to the library and the cabinet, and the
number of students was, in 1877-80, greater than ever before. By a
change in the charter, made in 1883, the election of three of the
trustees was put into the hands of the alumni.
[Illustration: (signature) T. R. Pynchon]
In 1883 the Rev. Dr. George Williamson Smith was elected to the
presidency, and was welcomed to his duties with much enthusiasm. In
the following year considerable changes were made in the course of
instruction, including arrangements for four distinct schemes of study,
introducing elective studies into the work of the junior and senior
years, and providing for practical work in the applied sciences. An
observatory has been built, for which a telescope and other apparatus
have been presented; and the funds have been secured for the erection of
an ample gymnasium, with a theatre or lecture-hall.
Of the nearly nine hundred men who have received the bachelor's degree
from Trinity College no small number have attained eminence in their
respective walks in life. The class of 1829 gave a governor to Michigan
and a judge to Illinois; the class of 1830, a member of Congress to
Tennessee, a judge to Louisiana, and two prominent divines to Ohio; the
class of 1831, a bishop to Kansas; the class of 1832, three members of
Congress, one to North Carolina, one to Missouri (who has also been
governor of the State), and one to New York, a distinguished clergyman
to Connecticut, and a chaplain to West Point; the class of 1835, an
archbishop to the Roman Catholic Church, and a chairman to the house of
bishops of the American Episcopal Church; the class of 1840, a president
to St. Stephen's College and a supreme-court judge to Connecticut; the
class of 1846, a member of Congress to New York, another (also
lieutenant-governor) to Minnesota, and a president to Norwich
University; the class of 1848, a bishop to Massachusetts, a lecturer, a
tutor, and three trustees to the college; and this list seems as a
sample of what the college has done and is doing, in the spirit of her
motto, for the Church and the country. The bishops of Connecticut,
Kansas, Georgia, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Washington
Territory, and Indiana are among her alumni; with them some three
hundred others have entered the ministry of the Christian Church; and
representatives of the college are found holding honored positions in
the State, in institutions of learning, in the professions of law and
medicine, and in the business of life. Her course of instruction unites
the conservatism of experience with adaptation to the needs of modern
scholarship, all under the acknowledged influence of religious nurture;
her well-stocked library and ample museum, with her unrivalled
accommodations for students, furnish her for her work, so that she is,
in reality as well as in name, in the affections of her members as well
as in her profession, a home of sound learning. And as her needs are
supplied by the generosity of alumni and friends, she will be still
better qualified for her work and will draw still closer to herself
those who are entrusted to her care.
The elaborate plans for the new buildings, prepared by the eminent
English architect the late Mr. Burgess, were such as to provide for all
the present and prospective needs of the college. As finally arranged
they included a large quadrangle six hundred feet by three hundred, at
either end of which should be a quadrangle three hundred feet square. It
was not expected that all of the great pile could be built at once, and,
in fact, all that has been erected as yet is the west side of the great
"quad." This includes, as has been said above, two long blocks of
buildings connected by a large tower some seventy feet square. The style
of architecture is that known as French secular Gothic; the buildings
are of brown Portland stone, liberally trimmed with white sandstone from
Ohio. Jarvis Hall contains forty-four suites of rooms for the students
and the junior professors, unsurpassed for beauty and convenience by
students' quarters elsewhere; they are so arranged that each suite of
rooms runs through the buildings, and that there is plenty of sunlight
and air in every study and bedroom. The Northam tower is also fitted
for students' apartments. In Seabury Hall, the plan of which was
modified under Mr. Kimball, the American architect, are the spacious
lecture-rooms, finished, as is all the rest of the buildings, in ash and
with massive Ohio stone mantel-pieces; and also the other public rooms.
The chapel is arranged choir-wise, after the English custom, and will
accommodate about two hundred people; the wood-work here is particularly
handsome. It is provided with a fine organ, the gift of a recent
graduate. The museum contains a full set of Ward's casts of famous
fossils, including the huge megatherium, a large collection of mounted
skeletons, and cases filled with minerals and shells; while the
galleries afford room for other collections. The library extends through
three stories, and is overrunning with its twenty-six thousand books and
thirteen thousand pamphlets; large and valuable additions have been made
to its shelves within a few years. The erection of a separate library
building, probably at the south end of the great quadrangle, will be a
necessity before many years. The laboratories for practical work in
physics and chemistry are at present in Seabury Hall; but there is a
demand for larger accommodations. The St. John observatory is a small,
but well-furnished building on the south campus. The present gymnasium
is a plain structure on the north campus, between the dormitories and
the president's house; but the funds have already been obtained for a
handsome and spacious gymnasium, and the generous gift of Mr. J. S.
Morgan, of London, has provided for the erection of an "annex," under
cover of which base-ball and other games may be practised in the
winter. As new buildings rise from time to time, the spacious grounds
will doubtless be laid out and beautified to correspond with the lawn in
front of the present buildings. Mention should also be made of the halls
of the college fraternities, three of which are already erected.
[Illustration: THE NEW GYMNASIUM]
Thus the college, though it needs an increase in its funds for various
purposes, is well fitted for its work. In its courses of instruction it
provides for those who wish to secure degrees in arts and in science,
and also for special students. The prizes offered in the several
departments and the honors which may be attained by excellence in the
work of the curriculum serve as incentives to scholarship. Nor is it
least among the attractions of Trinity College that it stands in the
city of Hartford.
[Illustration]
[Webster Historical Society Papers.]
THE WEBSTER FAMILY.
BY HON. STEPHEN M. ALLEN.
II.
The feeling between the settlers and the Indians, as narrated by Dr.
Moore Russell Fletcher, became so bitter that the Indians determined
on the total annihilation of the villagers, and with that intent
seventy-five or eighty Indians left their tribe in the vicinity of
Canada, and came down the head waters of the Pemigewassett as far as
Livermore Falls, and there camped for the night. All were soon sound in
sleep except one Indian, who was friendly to the settlers. He made his
way to Plymouth, aroused the villagers, and informed them of their
dangerous situation. The settlers, in dismay, asked each other, "What
can be done?" The Indian heard their inquiries, saw their alarm, and in
his Indian way, said, "Harkee me, Indian,--you no run away, no fight so
many Indians. Go up river a mile, quick, make um up fires by camp-ground
(holding up his fingers, five, ten, twenty), cut um sticks, like Indian
roast him meat on, lay um ends in fires, put fires out. When Indians see
and count um sticks he shake his head,--no fight so many pale-faces;
they go back home to camp-grounds." Next morning the villagers waited in
great excitement, fear, and hope. No Indians appeared, and there was
little trouble from them afterwards. Comparative peace reigned, although
the Indians at times (three or four in number) passed through the quiet
town of Plymouth on their way to their old camping-grounds. The
villagers buried their animosity, having been told of the ill-treatment
of the Indians by the State, and, instead of driving them from their
houses, they fed and kept them over night when they signified a desire
to stop and rest.
After many years other settlers went there; passable roads and bridges
were made, and the settlement was extended up along Baker's River almost
to Rumney, and down the river nearly to Bridgewater, now called Lower
Intervale. They brought in from the lower towns oxen, cows, horses,
pigs, geese, and turkeys. Their furs and moose and bear-skins found
ready sale in the lower towns, and afforded them the means of the most
common luxuries and groceries, which could not be provided in their
incomplete rural settlement.
[Illustration: MARSHFIELD--RESIDENCE OF DANIEL WEBSTER.]
A Mr. Brown, of that part of the settlement known as the Lower
Intervale, was one night returning from a neighbor's house. In the
darkness he lost the footpath, and dropped upon his hands and knees to
feel for it. Instantly he felt the hair of some animal touch his face. A
quick thought told him that his companion was none other than an immense
bear. Mr. Brown's presence of mind did not desert him. He knew that all
domestic animals like to be rubbed or scratched, so he began rubbing up
and down his companion's breast and neck, continuing as far as the
throat, while with his other hand he drew out his long hunting-knife
and plunged it in to the handle, at the same instant jumping backwards
with all his might. As soon as he could he made his way back to his
neighbor's house; his neighbor and another man, armed with gun, axe,
long hay-fork and lantern, returned to the place of encounter, where
they found Bruin already dead. Bear-steak was served all around the next
morning.
Ebenezer Webster, the father of Daniel, settled at Salisbury about the
time that Stephen went to Plymouth, and the hardships they underwent
were very similar.
Daniel was born ten years after the Revolutionary War, and had to pass
through many of the privations of the first settlers.
The clearing of the land was a tedious process, in which all boys had
to participate. The forest trees were felled generally when in full
foliage, about the first of June, and laid thus until the next March,
when the "lopping of the limbs," as it was called, went on, in which
boys, with their small hatchets, took part.
About the middle of May, when perfectly dry, they were set on fire, and
the small limbs, with the leaves, were burned. In the midst of the
tree-trunks, as they lay, corn was planted in the burnt ground, and
usually yielded some sixty bushels, shelled, to the acre.
In the early autumn, when the corn was in milk, bears, hedgehogs, and
coons were very troublesome, for they trampled down a great deal more
than they ate. Later in the autumn the chopping was infested by
squirrels. All practicable means were used for killing these visitors.
Bears were caught in log traps, hedgehogs were hunted with clubs, and
coons were caught in steel traps. Squirrels generally visited the
chopping in the daytime, and were killed with bows and arrows, and
sometimes caught in box traps. All of these animals were considered good
food.
Just before the frost came the corn was gathered and shucked, and
afterwards husked and put into the granary. During the winter the felled
trees were sometimes cut for firewood, and those remaining in the spring
were "junked," as it was called, and rolled into immense piles and
burned, after which a crop of rye or wheat was sown, and hacked in with
hoes, the roots of the trees preventing the movement of the harrow. The
process of "junking" was a tedious one, as the burnt logs soon covered
the axe-handle with smut, drying up the skin of the hands so they would
often crack and bleed.
It is said that young Daniel disliked this toil very much, and was among
the earliest to devise "niggering," as it was called. In this process a
stick of wood was laid across the log and lighted with fire, so it would
burn down through the larger log, when fanned by the breeze, cutting it
in two.
In the early spring great preparation was made for tapping the
maple-trees and boiling the sap down to sugar, which was always an
agreeable employment for young Daniel. Another occupation of the boy on
the farm was in weeding, pulling, and spreading flax, which boys
generally dislike very much.
After sheep were introduced in this locality there was a general washing
of them in the brook about the first of May, after which sheep-shearing
came on.
Planting, hoeing, and haying was very hard work for the boys, and very
few liked it. After the harvest something was done in lumbering, and the
Websters, having a small saw-mill on their farm, made shingles and
boards; although for many years shingles and clapboards were mostly
split by hand. Daniel was peculiarly fond of hunting and fishing, a
passion which lasted his whole lifetime. Minks, musk-rats, and now and
then a fox, were caught in traps, though the latter was oftener shot.
Small game, such as partridges and squirrels, were very plenty in the
woods, and the skins of gray squirrels were most always used for winter
caps for the boys. Larger game, like moose, deer, bears, wolves, and
sometimes panthers, were taken.
The schooling of boys was often among these scenes, where at home the
evenings were spent in studying by the light of a pitch-pine knot.
Itinerant ministers, in those days, mostly supplied the rustic pulpit,
and visited their scattered flocks through many miles of travel.
The boys were expected to be very decorous not only to the visiting
ministers but to all older than themselves. Reverence was natural to
Daniel Webster, and was not with him a mere matter of cultivation.
TO OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
ON HIS DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE.
Good Doctor, what has put it in your head
To sail away across the ocean blue?
Have you got tired of Boston? or, instead,
Do you mistrust that we are tired of you?
You wanted to see England, and you thought
That you might go for once in fifty years:
Well, your own way--just make your visit short;
So here's _bon voyage_,--and also a few tears.
We hope that you will have a joyful time,
Meet hosts of friends, and sit at many a feast;
And when, with all your wit and all your rhyme,
You once are back in this your native clime,
Don't ask to sail again off to the East
For--well, for five times fifty years at least.
_Edward P. Guild._
A ROMANCE OF KING PHILIP'S WAR.
BY FANNY BULLOCK WORKMAN.
CHAPTER II.
The first day or two after her meeting with the captain Millicent worked
with a light heart and renewed strength, and though Ninigret now never
assisted her in carrying water, as he had formerly done, the thought of
her new friend and of freedom sustained her. When after a week, however,
there was no sign of the approach of friends, she grew restless. Her
work tired her more than it ever had; the water-bucket seemed to hold
twice the usual quantity; there was double the amount of food to
prepare, and the women all seemed to want clothing made. Doubtless all
was as it had been in her surroundings, only the hope that had dawned
one June day in her heart had died out. She tried to reason with
herself. Why was she so impatient? Did it not take time in this season
of war to accomplish anything? Why, after all, should he return? Her
story may have interested him at the time, even aroused his sympathies;
but, afterwards, it was but natural he should, on returning to his
duties, forget about her and her misery. What did she know of him? They
had met but once; still her belief in him was strong, though wavering at
the same time. Had he not said the unfortunate had a claim on all
honorable men, and surely he was a man an _unfortunate_ might apply to,
if any man was? Such is the effect of imagination upon all poor mortals;
it may be a grand gift, but is often a most uncomfortable one.
Upon the tenth night after the meeting with the captain quiet reigned at
the Indian camp, where all slumbered except Millicent, to whom, in her
anxiety, sleep was denied. She sat meditating upon recent events, her
bosom stirred with the hope of speedy deliverance, and fear lest
untoward circumstances should prevent the captain from executing his
plan for her rescue. After a time her attention was attracted by
peculiar sounds breaking upon the stillness of the night. These, at
first faint and distant, gradually grew nearer and louder, till,
trembling, she recognized the yells of the savages, who were returning
through the woods rejoicing over the atrocities they had committed. She
aroused the women to prepare for the wanderers, who, bounding like deer
through the forest, soon burst into the clearing and threw themselves on
the ground in front of the wigwam, calling upon the women for food and
drink. In order to help the squaws provide for their impatient lords
Millicent offered to carry out some provisions. As she appeared the
warriors greeted her with a shout, calling her Philip's pretty maid. She
did not reply, but moved about silently among them, horrified at their
revolting account of an attack upon a lone country-house, where, having
murdered the inmates, they had possessed themselves of all of value in
the house. Exultingly they told their tale of horror, their painted
faces and blood-stained garments looking ghastly in the moonlight. One
man threw an ornament, torn from the person of a white woman, to his
squaw, who had brought his supper; and another, with a fiendish laugh,
tossed a scalp to Millicent, calling out in coarse tones, "Here little
white-skin, take that for a remembrance of your race."
With loathing she crept back to her tent, and, stopping her ears, tried
to keep out the sound of their diabolical cries.
Toward morning the noise ceased, as they, weary with carousing, one
after another, fell into a heavy slumber. Allured by the silence,
Millicent slipped out into the forest to quiet her aching brow in the
fresh morning air. What if the English should come now, when these
warriors are all at home? Would they be prepared for the fierce
resistance they would encounter, she murmured, and, lost in thought,
gazed mournfully at the waters of the lake, cold and gray in the early
daylight. Suddenly she was startled by the tall form of Ninigret
appearing like a phantom at her side.
"I have come to join you in your morning walk, Millicent," he said, with
meaning in his dark eyes, as he watched her narrowly.
"You need not have come; I prefer to be alone," she answered, drawing
herself up haughtily.
"I know you do; but you are out early, and need a protector."
A look of disgust swept over her face as he spoke the word protector. As
if comprehending the expression, he said, hurriedly:--
"Have you considered what I said to you? Have you had enough of this
life, and are you ready to come with me?"
"No, never! I would rather die at the hands of the warriors up
there"--but the words died on her lips, for, as she spoke, the sounds
of fire-arms reached their ears, mingled with the war-cry of the
half-aroused Indians. With an exclamation of joy Millicent started in
the direction of the firing, but had advanced but a step before the
lithe Indian had her in his grasp.
"You shall not escape me now. Resign yourself. The white men have found
the camp, but they will not rescue you. Dare to utter a cry, and I will
kill you," he added, brandishing a gleaming knife before her eyes.
Terrified at this menace she allowed herself to be dragged unresistingly
into the forest.
Immediately after his interview with Millicent Captain Merwin returned
to Boston to secure the force necessary to his purpose. This required
some days, during which he found himself becoming very restless. The
story of the fair captive had strongly excited his sympathy, and her
sweet face had made a deep impression upon his imagination, and he
longed, with an impatience he could hardly control, to be again by her
side. He was also fearful lest harm should befall her during his
absence.
All this gave him a stimulus to action, and caused him to use every
endeavor to prepare for his undertaking. When everything was at last
ready he departed with all possible despatch.
In the evening after leaving Boston, as the English approached Lake
Quinsigamond, when more than a mile from the Indian head-quarters, they
heard the shouting of the warriors above described.
Merwin commanded his men to conceal themselves in a thicket in the dense
wood, whence they could observe the Indians as they passed. He found
they considerably outnumbered his own force. As they evidently had no
suspicion of the presence of an enemy, he determined to follow them
cautiously, wait until weary with revelling they should fall asleep, and
then surprise them after their own mode of warfare. He deployed his men,
and held them in readiness. Toward day dawn, when the Indians had sunk
into a profound slumber, he ordered the attack.
The English advanced stealthily, and were almost in the camp before they
were discovered by the sentinel, who gave the alarm.
This came too late. The English rushed forward with cheers, and were
among the surprised Indians before they were fairly awake. The latter
hurriedly seized their weapons and made what resistance they could; but
this was ineffectual. The struggle was sharp and brief. Many of the best
warriors were soon killed, and the rest fled precipitately, following
the women and children who escaped into the woods when the combat began.
Merwin, as soon as he saw that his men were fairly engaged with the
Indians, called a few trusty fellows, and went in search of Millicent.
Not finding her at the wigwam, he plunged into the wood, following
luckily the path taken by Ninigret.
After dragging the girl ruthlessly with him, until she fainted with
fright, Ninigret laid her on the ground for a moment, in order to
arrange his weapons, so that he might bear her away in his arms. While
doing this he espied Merwin advancing, and, taking hasty aim at him with
his musket, fired. The ball missed its mark and struck one of Merwin's
companions. As the Indian bounded off Merwin raised his rifle and fired
in return, with deadly effect. Ninigret, leaping high in the air, fell
dead, pierced through the heart. The English bore his body a short
distance into the forest, and, leaving it to such a burial as nature
might grant, hurried back to Millicent, who still lay in a swoon. They
then carried her to the scene of battle and placed her in one of the
wigwams lately occupied by the Indians.
For a week Capt. Merwin and his men remained in the vicinity to
intercept any band of Indians that might be passing westward. Merwin,
although often away upon scouting expeditions, found ample time to
improve his acquaintance with his rescued charge, in whom he was fast
becoming deeply interested. It was the evening before their departure
for Boston. The air was soft and laden with the fragrance of flowers;
the lake, its surface unruffled by a ripple, lay spread like a great
mirror, reflecting the lustre of the full moon. Two persons stood near
the water's edge contemplating the beauty of the scene. The quiet
harmony of nature seemed to possess their souls, and for a time neither
spoke. Millicent was the first to break the silence.
"What serenity after the strife of last week!"
"It is, indeed, a contrast this night. Let us sit here awhile and enjoy
its beauty," said Merwin; and, assisting Millicent to a seat upon the
trunk of a fallen tree, he placed himself at her feet.
"How strange it all seems! Here I am in the forest, as I was a week ago,
yet under such different circumstances,--free from my enemies and
surrounded by only friends."
"And another week will change your surroundings entirely; and the new
friends made now will, like the Indians, be present but in memory. You
know to-morrow we are to leave here."
"I can hardly realize it. Ah, Captain Merwin! can it be that I shall so
soon leave Wigwam Hill, the scene of my trying life of captivity, behind
me?"
"Yes; by to-morrow at this time, I trust, you will be far from this spot
where you have suffered so much. This beautiful lake will always recall
unpleasant associations to your mind, I fear, while to mine it will
recall some of the pleasantest hours of my life."
"No; I, too, shall have pleasant recollections of these shores. The
memory of your noble kindness to me will not be effaced. But tell me,
where do we go then?" Millicent asked, rather seriously.
"It cannot matter to you where I and my men go; but you I hope to take
to your sister."
"To Martha, Captain Merwin? Is my dear sister then alive? Is there no
doubt of it?"
"None."
"Is it possible? What happiness!" breathed Millicent, with tears in her
eyes. "I cannot believe it. I cannot believe that I shall again see my
dear sister, whom I have so long supposed dead. How did you know she was
alive; and why have you not told me this before?"
"Because I wished to surprise you just before our departure. You will
not deprive me of that last pleasure, would you?" asked the captain in a
low voice, smiling faintly. "I made all possible inquiry when in Boston,
and, just as about to depart with the troops, received accurate news of
her whereabouts."
"I see; and so she is safe, and we shall meet before many days. Where is
she, please?" asked Millicent, smiling divinely upon Merwin.
Drinking in the sweetness of the smile the captain gave her an account
of her sister's fortune, and of her surroundings.
"The Stantons, with whom she is, are friends of mine," he observed,
rather gloomily.
"Ah, indeed; then it will be a pleasant meeting all around!" and she
clapped her hands with joy. Then, noticing the captain's gravity, she
said, "Why are you so sad, Captain Merwin?"
"Oh, I don't know. I did not mean to be," and he tried to smile. "Yes, I
think I do appear rather glum,--don't mind the word, it is so expressive
of my feelings. You see, this last week has been so pleasant, we have
become such good friends, and learned to know each other's tastes so
well, and I have enjoyed so intensely giving you your freedom and
sharing it with you, that the thought that it must all end, that I must
take you back to interests which I can know nothing of and have no share
in, is just a little hard to bear at present. You will think me selfish;
forgive me, I did not mean to mention it, but you asked me."
She held out her hand to him and said, "You are my trusted friend, and
will be my sister's when she knows what you have done for me; so do not
say you will have no share in our interests."
"You are very kind," he replied, pressing her hand tightly in his, then
dropping it suddenly.
"Captain Merwin," said Millicent, in turn looking grave, "the past year
I have lived in an atmosphere of treachery and revenge; the minds of
those with whom I have been associated were filled with anything but
Christian thoughts. Unkindness and ill-feeling have found a fertile soil
upon which to thrive in their hearts; but deep in my own I ever kept a
spot green, where the plant of gratitude could again grow should the
occasion offer. It did offer. The seeds were sown by a kind and generous
hand; the plant grew quickly, and to-day it blossomed in full. Deeply
grateful for what you have done for me, I beg you to accept its
flowers." And, with tears in her eyes, she held toward him a small
exquisitely selected bunch of fragrant white azalias.
Taking the blossoms tenderly he lifted them to his lips. "What a pretty
idea! Who but you would have thought of rewarding a common deed of
kindness so sweetly? I shall cherish these flowers, they are so like
you. Did you really pick them for me?"
"Yes, and selected them out of many. It was all I had. If ever I can
reward you better tell me, for I would willingly do you any favor to pay
the debt of gratitude I owe you. I assure you I feel my obligation
deeply," said Millicent, blushing.
"There is a reward you could give me now; but I scarcely dare ask it,
for I know it to be more than I deserve." And the captain gazed at
Millicent with a look that brought a bright blush to the young girl's
cheek.
"Perhaps it is not," she replied, hesitatingly. "I don't think I
understand you."
"Well, then, Millicent,--may I call you that?--the drawing-room term of
Miss does not suit our simple life here." And, as she nodded assent, he
continued, "Will you answer a question, even a hard one?"
"I will try."
"Tell me, then, if ever in the heart where the plant of gratitude grew
another far sweeter flower has grown?"
"That of friendship do you mean?"
"Yes; the plant might be called friendship, but its blossom is love. Ah,
Millicent! may I not take the fairest of these sweet flowers, and,
placing it in the centre, call it love surrounded by gratitude? Then
would my nosegay be perfect indeed."
Millicent looked, beyond the ardent gaze of the captain, into the lake,
and made no reply.
"Throwing off the language of flowers, and all language but that of
simple truth, the reward I desire above all on earth is yourself. I know
my request is a bold one, and I ought, I suppose, not to make it for
months, if ever. But come it must, and to-night my heart has forced it
to my lips."
"It is very sudden," Millicent answered, faintly.
"I know that, but, after all, most deep feelings are sudden. In the
savages, with whom you have been associated, have you not seen hate and
other strong passions develop in a moment? Why, then, should not love,
in a more appropriate soil, spring to life? It certainly has taken deep
root in my heart. Give me some answer, Millicent, if it be but that of
hope deferred. Can you ever love me?"
"What if I do now?" said Millicent, demurely.