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NEW CONNECTICUT.
“Still her gray rocks tower above the sea
That crouches at their feet, a conquered wave:
'Tis a rough land of earth and stone and tree,
Where breathes 7zo castled lord or cabined slave;
Where thoughts and tongues and hand's are bold and ſree,
And friend's will find a welcome, foes a graze;
And where none kneel save when to heaven they pray,
Mor even then, unless in their own way.”
HALLEck’s “Connecticut.”

NEW CONNECTICUT.
3m 3utobiograpbital 190tm.
BY
A BRONSON ALCOTT.
QEUítely
By F. B. SANBORN.
BOST ON :
RoBERTS B. R O T H E R S.
1887.
Copyright, 1881 and 1886,
BY A. BRONSON ALCOTT.
Qānibergitg Bregg :
John WILson AND SoN, CAMBRIDGE.
TO
F. B. S. A N B O R. N.
Accept, dear friend, this rustic lay,
Owing its polish to your learned sense,
The while the lingering winter’s day
Płeld all may sadness in a raft suspense.
CONCORD, June, 1881.
C O N T E N T S.
INTRODUCTION .
PART I. THE FARMER'S BOY
II. THE PEDLER’s PROGRESS
III. THE ADVENTURE RENEWED.
IV. FAILURE AND RETREAT .
NOTES
PAGE
57
73
93
IO3
INTRODUCTION.
I HAVE undertaken to edit for my ancient friend, Mr.
Alcott, this nãive work of his, conceived and executed
after his eightieth year, but not brought to completion
when, at the age of eighty-three, he lost the power of
writing by a stroke of apoplexy. Since that time (Oct.
24, 1882) he has reviewed, and to some extent re-ar-
ranged the material for an autobiography which he had
long been collecting, and which his friends had for
many years been urging him to edit. The first edition
of this volume, privately printed in 1881, and the
“Sonnets and Canzonets” of 1882, were the beginnings
of a poetical autobiography, to which he intended to add
notes, and to continue the work in prose during the
years from eighty to ninety, in which, as he supposed,
vi IAWTRODUCTYOAV.
the kind Providence that had wonderfully ordered his
long life would still extend to him health and the vigor
of his pen, that had never been more active than from
seventy-five to eighty-three. But the death of his friend
Emerson, in April, 1882, warned him of the hazards that
wait on age, and he may then have regretted, as all his
friends must, that he had so long deferred a work which
he alone could adequately perform.
In explanation of these humble cantos, descriptive of
the childhood and youth of a remarkable man (whose
thread of life has connected one century with another,
and who bridged the gulf between Puritanism and the
Concord School of Philosophy, with all that those remote
terms imply), I will here give from the history of his
native town, Wolcott, the dates and outlines of Mr.
Alcott's biography.
The first settler of Wolcott, John Alcock, of New
Haven, left a son, Captain John Alcock, who lived on
Spindle Hill, along with his brothers, each possessed of
a good farm. At his house his grandson, Amos Bronson
Alcott, was born November 29, 1799, being the eldest
AV7'RO/DUCT/OAV. vii
of eight children of Joseph Chatfield Alcox and Anna
Bronson, his wife. The homestead of Joseph Alcox was
near his father's, and it was there that Mr. Alcott spent
his boyhood. The present house, built in 1819, is that
from which Mr. Alcott set forth for Boston in 1828, when
he began his active career in the great world. It stood
near the fork of the road, where in former times was the
district school-house in which Mr. Alcott and his Cousin,
Dr. William A. Alcott, commenced their education. This
school-house has now disappeared, and the house and
farm of Joseph Alcox have suffered from neglect since
his death in 1829. He was a skilful farmer and country
mechanic, making farming tools and household utensils
for his townsfolks, and having the best tilled and best
fenced farm (of nearly 100 acres) in the Spindle Hill
district. Two of his brothers had built log cabins on
their clearings and lived in them in the early part of
this century, but he always occupied a frame house,
and lived with comfort, though with frugality. He was a
diffident, retiring man, and kept much at home, content
with his simple lot, industrious, temperate, conscientious,
viii AVTRODUCTIOM.
honorable in all his dealings, and fortunate in his do-
mestic life.
His wife, the mother of Bronson Alcott, deserves spe-
cial mention, since from her he inherited his name, his
early religious training, and the general turn of his mind.
Anna Bronson was the daughter of Captain Amos Bron-
Son, of Plymouth, – a man of property, influence, and
decided theological opinions, somewhat at variance with
those of the majority of Connecticut farmers at that time.
She was the sister of an eminent clergyman and scholar,
Dr. Tillotson Bronson (mentioned on page 45, and in
the note following), who educated many clergymen for
the Episcopal Church, of which he was a leader in Con-
necticut. He would gladly have trained his young
nephew for that profession, and, indeed, began so to do,
but the auspices were not propitious. Mrs. Alcott as-
sented with sweetness to the choice of her son, and
maintained through her long life the tenderest relations
with him. She taught him early to keep a diary, and he
learned to write by practising with chalk on her smooth
kitchen floor. He was a pupil of Dr. Bronson in 1813,
AV7'RO/DUCTIOM. ix
and studied with Rev. John Keyes, the pastor of Wolcott,
in 1815. In 1825, after the unlucky ending of his adven-
tures in Virginia and Carolina, he again lived in Dr.
Bronson's family, and acted for a while as his Secretary,
assisting in the publication of the “Churchman's Maga-
zine " of which Dr. Bronson was editor. At this time he
wrote to his younger brother, Chatfield Alcott, then living
at a distance from home : —
“We, dear Brother, have a kind and affectionate Mother
—a Mother who has not had the return from us (on my
part at least) that her virtues demanded. In the humble
sphere in which she has moved she has been the means of
doing a good deal. She has exemplified the maxim (which
you and I and every one else should endeavor also) ‘To do
all the good which our means afforded, and as little hurt.”
In a later record he says: —
“I assisted my parents in husbandry and housewifery dur-
ing my childhood and early youth. From the age of six to
ten years I attended the common school near my Father's
house, during nine months of the year; and from ten till I
was fourteen, during the winter months. Our ‘copies' were
set by the school-master in books made of a few sheets of
X AV7'RODUCTIOAV.
foolscap stitched together, and ‘ruled' with a leaden plum-
met. We used ink made of maple and oak bark steeped in
indigo and alum, which we manufactured ourselves. With
this I began keeping a diary of my doings, with some entries
of the weather and events, at twelve years of age; it con-
tained some notice also of my reading, and a catalogue of
the books read. This diary was continued without interrup-
tion, including my experiences while travelling in the South-
ern States, till the time of my school-keeping in 1825; and
had extended to some twelve volumes. But in 1833 it was
unfortunately burned in Philadelphia, with my early corre-
spondence and business papers.”
What this diary briefly mentioned, the present volume
of verse and prose sets forth more fully and in another
form. -
Mr. Alcott says: “My Father was skilful in handicrafts,
— making plows, yokes, rakes, Scythe-snaths, boxes,
brooms, baskets, and other implements of husbandry
and articles of housekeeping. In these arts I inherited
some portion of his skill, and early learned the use of
his tools. In the spring of 1814, I went to work in the
clock-factory of S. Hoadley, about two miles from my
AVTRO/DUCTIOAV. xi
father's, but in Plymouth ; and continued there, putting
together clocks, during the summer and autumn. Being
discontented, I was permitted to return home and go to
school about New Year's, 1815. Early in the Spring,
not being yet sixteen, I journeyed on foot with my cousin
Thomas, as far as Western Massachusetts, peddling Small
articles from house to house, and extending my knowl- -
edge of geography and mankind. We made two trips,
and visited the old Connecticut prison of Newgate, but
made no money. In the autumn of 1815 I travelled into
Eastern New York and obtained many subscribers to
Flavel's treatise on ‘Keeping the Heart.” This work was
edited by a lady of Bristol, Conn., living near the mer-
chant, George Mitchell, who had supplied us with goods
for peddling in the spring.” At seventeen he was con-
firmed, along with his father, as a member of the Episco-
pal church, the ceremony being performed in Waterbury,
by Bishop Brownell; before and after which young Alcott,
with his cousin, the late Dr. Alcott, used to read the
church service on Sundays at the school-house in their
neighborhood. The two cousins also carried on a boyish
xii AVZTK2O/DOCZYOAV.
correspondence, and founded a small library for their
mutual improvement. A few years later, as we shall see,
they visited Virginia and the Carolinas together, on one
of those peddling pilgrimages which make such a roman-
tic feature of Mr. Alcott's early life.
The beginning of these rambles was in the autumn and
winter of 1818, when the youth was almost nineteen years
old. At the age of sixteen he had been selling copies of
Flavel’s “Keeping the Heart,” and his earnings were
spent then in New Haven on a prayer book for his
mother, another for himself, a dictionary, and a supply
of paper for his diaries. These short journeys in Con-
necticut, Massachusetts, and New York, had diminished
his natural bashfulness, and increased his longing to see
more of the great world. His father and mother would
have retained him at home, but he resolved to go to Nor-
folk in a coasting vessel from New Haven, and had a
dream that he could easily, in Virginia, find a place as
teacher. Accordingly he sailed from New Haven, Octo-
ber 13, 1818, in the sloop “Three Sisters,” Captain Sperry
skipper, with fifteen other passengers, chiefly pedlers
AV7'RO/DUCTIOAV. xiii
from Connecticut and workmen going in the employ
of the Tisdales, Connecticut tinmen, who had a shop at
Norfolk. The voyage lasted about a week, and young
Alcott landed in Virginia, October 20. His passage-
money was ten dollars. For a few days after arriving at
Norfolk he continued to board with Captain Sperry, but
soon went to live with Tisdale, the tinman, and was urged
by him to enter his service. At first he was bent on
teaching, but having tried from the 24th of October to
the 12th of November, without success, to get a school,
and being then in debt, the youth accepted his offer, and
began to peddle for him about the city. Just before the
Christmas holidays we find Mr. Alcott buying for himself
a small stock of Virginia almanacs, and selling them to
the citizens of Norfolk at a profit of two hundred per
cent. Each almanac cost threepence, and was sold for
ninepence, and the young merchant easily earned a dol-
lar or two a day so long as the holidays lasted. Then it
occurred to him to enlarge his stock, and to sell trinkets
and silks to the families in the surrounding country. He
went, therefore, to a dealer in “fancy goods” at Norfolk,
xiv AV7'RO/DUC 7/OAV.
and bought wares costing nearly three hundred dollars,
which he bestowed in two small tin trunks, to be carried
in the hand, as the pedler journeyed on foot from house
to house. There were tortoise-shell combs, thimbles,
Scissors, various articles of ornament for ladies, puzzles
and picture-books for children, spectacles, razors, and
many other wares for the men, besides needles, buttons,
sewing-silk, and much more that was not then a part of
a pedler's stock in Eastern Virginia.
The first trip was made in January, 1819, and was a
circuit from Norfolk, by way of Hampton, along the
James River for a while, then across the country to York-
town, and by the York County plantations back to Hamp-
ton and Norfolk again. Both goods and merchant found
unexpected favor in the eyes of the Virginians. An
American foot-pedler, a bashful Yankee, neither imperti-
nent nor stingy, was an agreeable novelty in those regions.
He was kindly received at the great houses of the plant-
ers, where he generally spent the night, accepting cour-
teously their customary hospitality, though sometimes
sleeping in the slave quarters. On Sundays and rainy
AVTRODUCTIOM. XV
days, when his trade could not be pursued, this diffident
and bookish Autolycus remained in the planters' houses,
and had permission to read in their libraries, where he
found many books he had never heard of before. In that
part of Virginia lived some of the oldest and best de-
scended families of the Old Dominion, with large and
choice libraries, which they allowed the young man from
Connecticut to explore for himself. Biography was his
favorite reading, then poems and tales, and he had a
keen appetite — not so common among lads of nineteen
— for metaphysics and books of devotion. Cowper's
“Life and Letters,” Locke’s “Conduct of the Under-
standing,” and Lavater’s “Physiognomy,” were among
the books thus read ; nor was his childish favorite,
“Pilgrim's Progress,” forgotten, which he found in fine
editions among the Virginians.
The region where he had lived was one of the most
primitive parts of Connecticut, and, though it was so near
to those centres of culture, Hartford and New Haven,
was but scantily supplied with books. There were not
a hundred volumes in the parish library, and it had fallen
xvi AV7'RO/DUCTIOAV.
into disuse when Mr. Alcott was a lad. He used to get
permission from his father on Saturday afternoons to go
round to the houses of the farmers in Wolcott for sev-
eral miles to examine their libraries and read their books,
which included the Bible, and perhaps half a dozen other
books, among them Bunyan’s “Pilgrim,” Hervey’s “Med-
itations,” Young’s “Night Thoughts,” and Burgh’s “Dig-
nity of Human Nature,” a book then in much vogue
among the country people of New England. These vol-
umes would be kept on a shelf in a corner of the family
room, and young Alcott readily got leave to borrow them.
It was his custom to borrow and read the “Pilgrim's Prog-
ress” once a year; and this book, more than any other,
gave direction to his fancies and visions of life. Wol-
cott, indeed, might pass either for the Hill Difficulty or
for the Delectable Mountains, according to the mood of
the inhabitant of its uplands. The township lay high,
and Spindle Hill, or “New Connecticut,” was at the
summit of the range of Wolcott hills, commanding
a wide prospect on all sides. Seven parish steeples
were in sight, and from an oak-top the young Chris-
/A/TRODUCTION. xvii
tian could see the glittering waters of Long Island
Sound.
Books were always his solace and delight, and he read
constantly of evenings, and while resting from work at
noon, during his father's nap or pull at the tobacco-pipe,
in which he indulged himself moderately. Sometimes,
too, the barefoot boy took his book afield with him, and
read under the wall or by some tree, while the oxen
rested in the furrow.
To a youth thus bred, the comparatively elegant and
courtly life of the wealthy Virginians was a graceful and
impressive revelation, — the first school of fine manners
which he had entered. An English gentleman, hearing
the story of Mr. Alcott's early years, – his farm life and
his progress as a pedler, — could scarcely believe it true.
“Why,” said he, “your friend has the most distinguished
manners — the manners of a very great peer.” He would
have been still more surprised to learn that it was during
the years of peddling that this polish of manner began to
be acquired, by contact with a class then esteemed the
first gentlemen in America.
xviii AAV7'RO/DUC 7TWOAZ
During the early months of 1819 he visited the Vir.
ginian towns of Portsmouth, Smithfield, Williamsburg, the
old capital of the colony, Gloucester, and others in that
region, and traversed the surrounding districts, without
anxiety or misadventure, and with something to show at
the beginning of April as the profits of the winter's trade.
More than a hundred dollars was the net income, after
all debts were paid ; and travelling homeward with this,
Mr. Alcott put $80 into the hands of his father, as the
price of the six months' time he had taken from the work
of farm and shop. The money went into the new house
which the father was then building (in 1819), and which
is still standing. In November, 1819, Mr. Alcott and his
brother Chatfield went to Virginia again. On the 24th of
January, 1820, they wrote home, saying: “We have
been very successful in business, and have traded as much
and sold at as good advantage as we ever anticipated.
We hope to do better hereafter, for we have but just
begun, and Chat is altogether unacquainted with peddling.
He does well, and will make a very good hand at the
business before we return. He sells nearly as much as
AAV7'RO/DUCTIOM. xix
I do, and at about the same profit. Our articles afford
(exclusive of expenses) 33% per cent profit; conse-
quently, in selling one hundred dollars we clear thirty-
three dollars. The last trip we made we went out
together and were gone just two weeks. I sold one hun-
dred dollars’ worth of property and Chatfield about fifty
dollars’. I am calculating on keeping him in the coun-
try while I come to Norfolk to buy goods; he cannot be
of any service to me here (Norfolk), and our board costs
but very little in the country, though three dollars a
week here. . . . Father and Mother, how do you think
we look? Like two awkward, poor, unpolished, dissi-
pated, homespun, begging, tugging Yankee pedlers, think
you? No, this is not the case with your sons. By peo-
ple of breeding and respectability they are treated with
politeness; and if they are sometimes treated with con-
tempt by the low, vulgar class of the community, it is
then not worth minding. For my part, I can make
peddling in Virginia as respectable as any other business,
however humiliated and contemptible I may appear to the
silken sons of pride and dissipation.” In May, Chatfield
XX AV7'RO/DUC 77OAV.
went home with sixty-five dollars profits, and on July 28,
Bronson reached home with a hundred dollars. These
sums also were paid over to their father toward the build-
ing of his new house. -
October 8, 1820, Bronson and William Alcott sailed
from New Haven for Charleston, S. C., intending to teach
in South Carolina; but by December 5, they were in
Norfolk, Va., after making the journey on foot from
Charleston to Norfolk, and betook themselves to peddling
again. During this winter Bronson Alcott suffered from
a severe typhus fever, and William Alcott took care of
him. The profits of the season were small, owing to this
illness and other unfavorable circumstances. On his way
home in June, Mr. Alcott visited for the first time
Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York.
His prosperity in Virginia had made him extravagant,
and he bought on Broadway a costly suit of clothes, which,
to the surprise of the Wolcott farmers and the chagrin
of his father and his cousin William, he wore home in
July, 1820, paying for them, but neglecting to pay the
merchant, Allyn, of whom he had bought his goods in
AV ZAZO/OOC 7TWOAV. xxi
Virginia. Consequently, in September, 1821, Joseph
Alcox was compelled to endorse his son's notes for two
hundred and seventy dollars, due to Allyn, and the
burden of debt began to weigh down the family. In
October, to retrieve his fortune, Bronson Alcott, with his
brother Chatfield, set forth again for Virginia, “ driving
a wagon bought at Berlin, Conn., laden with goods bought
at Meriden (on credit), and some clocks also,” their
father giving the horse. The enterprise Cannot succeed;
“the costly coat scorns peddling, and sinks money fast.”
Peddling will never do, after all; and at Norfolk, April 7,
1822, Allyn the merchant takes the horse, wagon, and
goods to pay his account; the younger brother Chat-
field goes on with his peddling, and the spendthrift takes
refuge in North Carolina, where he will teach a writing-
school. This adventure fails too, and he makes his way
home on foot and in poverty, arriving at Wolcott in June.
Not quite willing to abandon the hope of retrieving his
fortune, he set forth again for the South with his cousin,
Thomas Alcox, in October, 1822, and spent the winter
in North Carolina, among the Quakers of Chowan and
xxii IWTRODUCTIOAV.
Perquimans counties, returning in the spring of 1823.
Here he saw much of the Friends and read their books,
such as William Penn’s “No Cross, no Crown,” Barclay's
“Apology,” Fox’s “Journal,” and other works of like
spirit. The moral sentiment, as Mr. Alcott has since said,
now Superseded peddling clearly and finally.
To this point in his life, the present volume brings the
romantic youth. His career as a school-master, which
he next entered, soon made him known to the public ;
as it had previously led to his acquaintance with Miss
May, of Boston, whom he married in 1830. This union
of hearts and minds Mr. Alcott has celebrated in his
5
“Sonnets; ” where also appear portraits of his friends
Channing, Emerson, Garrison, Hawthorne, Parker, Phillips,
Thoreau, and John Brown, – the last-named, like himself,
a son of Connecticut and a religious enthusiast. Among
these friends there were not wanting those who, in turn,
have paid their tribute to Alcott himself. I cannot better
close this chapter than by citing two of these, – in verse
and in prose.
AVZTA’O/OOCZYOAV. xxiii
TO ALCOTT.
Not only in the camp,
But near the scholar's lamp, —
Not with the clash of arms,
But in thy heart beat valor's charms ;
I know the splendors of the great,
The blazing halls, the ruby wine, –
But in thy truth is an estate
Not all their fancies could combine.
A dull, vexatious age
Thy hand could not engage,
King of a heavenly band
More opulent in command;
As Fate is never known to fail
I count thy gains full certain yet,
Nor trust that winter, coldly pale,
Shall, freezing, force thee to forget.
I can foresee thy worth
Beyond the State, or Earth, –
That in thy courtly band
Both Kings and Consorts stand :
xxiv.
AV7'RO DUC 77OAV.
Thy peace is not a parchment scroll,
But pure integrity of heart;
Though waters roar and thunders roll
Zhat beats as gentle in its part.
Give me the happy man,
And wealth the weary clan, –
And their manorial blessing
To those who need possessing;
But come, thou tender, trusting Sage,
My house, my heart, my hope is thine !
Bright jewel of this bankrupt age,
Rich cup for an immortal wine !
I bent at beauty's power,
And, scorned, I hate the hour :
Capricious was the child,
Fickle of heart, and proud, and wild ;
Thou standest firm, and saintly still,
Though decades fleet, though youth outdies,
The glory of a virtuous will,
The candor of old Truth's replies.
Thus wrote Ellery Channing in the days commemorated
by Hawthorne, when they rowed their boat together on
AVTRO/DUCTIOAV. XXV
the Assabet. Henry Thoreau, encamped by Walden Pond,
a few years later, drew this portrait of Alcott, which the
years have not dimmed, and which posterity will recognize :
“During the winter of 1846–1847, there was another
welcome visitor who came through the village, through
snow and rain and darkness, till he saw my lamp through
the trees, and shared with me some long winter evenings.
One of the last of the philosophers, Connecticut gave him
to the world; he peddled first her wares, afterwards, as
he declares, his brains. These he peddles still, bearing
for fruit his brain only, like the nut its kernel. His words -
and attitude always suppose a better state of things than
other men are acquainted with, and he will be the last
man to be disappointed as the ages revolve. He has no
venture in the Present. But though comparatively disre-
garded now, when his day comes, laws unsuspected by
most will take effect, and rulers will come to him for
advice.
‘How blind that cannot see serenity
A true friend of man, - almost the only friend of human
progress, – with his hospitable intellect he embraces
xxvi AAV7'RO/DUCTYOAV.
children, beggars, insane, and scholars, and entertains the
thought of all, adding to it commonly some breadth and
elegance. Whichever way we turned, it seemed that the
heavens and the earth had met together, since he enhanced
the beauty of the landscape. I do not see how he can
ever die; Nature cannot spare him.”
It must interest mankind to know how such a character
was nurtured ; and in this little book, sometimes vague,
iterative, provincial, and always artless, we have the story
told in part.
F. B. SANBORN.
CONCORD, October, 1886.
NEW CONNECTICUT.
PART I.
ZTA/A2 FAA’MEA’”S BO P.
BENEATH the mountain's brow, the o'erhanging wood,
The farmer's boy had here his humble birth,
From towns remote, in rural neighborhood; 1
His education at the homely hearth.
AVE W COAVAWAEC 77CO/7.
A highland district and a rugged soil,
By rough roads Crossed, and dangerously steep ;
Mad River's mill-stream tumbles with turmoil
O'er its rash cataract with furious leap.
Far up the slope a winding pathway leads
The forest’s edge along, the summit gains;
Wide now around the opening prospect spreads,
Ample reward for all the traveller's pains.
Within the circle of the blue sky’s rim
Peer forth in sight fair towns, tall steeples gleam ;
The wavering lines of Hancock's Brook show dim ;
Yonder wild Naugatuck, his mother's stream.
7THE FAAEM/ZR'S AEO V. 9
Mountain magnificent still unrenowned,
Unsought for delicate air and lordly view ;
Fields, orchards, murmuring woods, valleys profound,
All aptly named “Connecticut the New.”
Southward the charming landscape fills the eye, –
New Haven's beauteous shades and classic ground
Behind old Carmel's hills, hidden, yet nigh,
Close harbored on Long Island's sandy sound.
Nearer, within short distance, there discern
Potucko's woods, where once for Snaring game
The Indian fired his brushwood ring; in turn
Himself was caught, and perished in the flame.
IO
AVAE W COAVAWA. C.77CO 7.
Not three full lifetimes now had passed away
Since this wild woodland planted was and claimed
By his robust forefathers, old and gray, -
Farms, orchards now, and “Farmingbury" named.
Here modest pride their pedigree might name,
Trace back their lineage to Old Ely's see,
And Jesus College on Cam's English stream,
Whose Vigilant Bird still names the family.”
In Winthrop's ships across the dismal sea
Their fathers came, and honored names they bore
In Boston and its neighboring colony, -
From Roxbury journeying to New Haven’s shore.8
7TA/AE AWAA&M/A2A’’.S AO V. II
Thence inland marching, the first settler * here
Surveyed his thousand acres, bound by bound;
His labors ended, left his titles clear,
In fit proportion, to his children round.
His eldest heir, of military port,
won from his kinsman's hand a captain's sword;
Bold Trumbull’s “minute men,” in field and fort,
Heard his commission and obeyed his word.”
Of Derby's ancient stock his lady came,
The gentler virtues in her sweetly blent;
The Matron of the Hill, - a gracious name, –
Grandchild of Yale's first-chosen president.
I 2
AVE W COA/AWAEC 77CU 7.
Borne as a bride through the deep, dark defile,
Behind her lord on pillion seated high,
Mistress of his new mansion, she, the while,
Views gorge and river with admiring eye.
Bold scenery here, and wonderfully wild, –
O'er the steep, jagged rocks the hemlocks lower,
Darkening the wave below ; and high o'erpiled
On either side the Alpine summits tower.
His upland district had received its name
From many a spindle, busy wheel, and quill;
Such household arts bestowed a local fame, –
It bore the homely title, “Spindle Hill.” "
7A7A2 AWA RMAZA’’.S. B.O.Y. I 3
.*
Eastward the meeting-house near two miles stood,
Reached by steep roads, and past Mad River's mill;
A few plain houses in near neighborhood,
All, by prečminency, named “The Hill.”
There, on the rock, the plain gray structure shows,
Not with broad belfry or tall steeple crowned ; 7
And down below the precipice repose
The long-lived forefathers, yet unrenowned.
The boy's grave sire,” although a captain's child,
His mother's virtues had, her quiet air,
Her patient steadfastness and temper mild ;
Ingenious, bashful, scrupulously fair.
I4
AVAE W COAVAVAZCZYCO/7.
Resources had he when the inclement skies
Held him from wonted labor in his fields;
Some handicraft in useful ways he plies,
And this, meanwhile, an ampler income yields.
Skilful with tools, and in good husbandry,
Well harvested his crops, and safely stored,
By change of toil he earned a competency,
Frugal and sober, spread a bounteous board.
Apartments few his low-roofed home possessed ;
The simple household's competent estate
For service, meal-times, shelter, and sweet rest,
All on each other dutifully wait.
7THE AWAAEM/ZA'S BO V. I5
Convenient the wide-mouthed chimney's flues
For wholesome warmth below, but overhead
In chambers cold, thick coverlets of all hues,
And quilted by his mother's hand, are spread.
Pipe, almanac, above the mantel-piece,
Deep-seated arm-chairs standing carelessly,
The floors uncarpeted, no spot nor crease, –
Safe the latched door without or bolt or key.
Outside, the shop, where each rude implement
For farm or household use was finished new ;
There stood the loom, with treadles violent,
While cunning fingers shot the shuttles through,
I6
AVE W COMAWAEC 7TWCO/7.
By the shop's side the aspiring well-sweep shows,
And tilting downwards dipt the bucket's rim
Sidelong below, dropt hand o'er hand; uprose
With sparkling waters dripping from its brim.
Across the meadow near, the orchard lies,
Its goodly fruits all in their season ripe;
And by the winding fence, of biggest size
The early apples hang, of ruddy stripe.
The choicer fruits are in the garden set,
The cherry-trees along the broad wayside;
Across there steals a little rivulet,
Or big with rain its narrow banks doth chide.
7A/Z AAA’A/A2A’’S AO V. 17
From forth the rock, near by, a cooling Spring
Drips into brimming trough for creatures' sake;
All round each waits, as a concerted thing,
In turn, impatiently, their thirst to slake.
Close by the roadside, at the thicket's edge,
Not long time since befell a tragedy;
For there among the chestnuts by the ledge
The woodman died beneath the falling tree.
The mild-eyed mother, seasonably wed,
A finer culture brought to these rude parts,
Of sprightly race, considerately bred,
And thus accomplished in all household arts.
I8
AVAE W COAVAVA2C 7/CC/7.
Bold scenery her homestead's view confines;
Beside the meadows green the river glides,
Mount Jericho uplifts his towering pines,
And fruitful orchards crown the steep hillsides.
Pillioned behind her white-haired patriarch
She often rode, while o'er the saddle swung
The Sunday's luncheon; he, the man of mark,
Read service, sermon, set the tune, and sung.
Oft his well-mounted dame with homespun roll,
Woven by herself, betwixt the river and hill,
Paced the long distance to the city’s goal,
And therewith paid young “Tilly’s ” college bill.9
7THE AWAA’MEA”.S. BOY I9
In household tasks his sisters did excel, -
From roll and distaff spun an even thread ;
Quick with their needles, yet they could right well
The wholesome meal prepare and table spread.
Good sleight of hand his brothers' several art, —
Their fingers apt, yet less with book and pen ;
The lathe and chisel were their chosen part,
Nor shallow knowledge theirs of times and men.
Not learning but hard labor theirs to give
For homely comforts, neither beg nor steal;
Such idlers as on others' earnings live
Their firesides share not, nor their frugal meal.
2O AEW coxweczzcoz
Here raise the curtain on the evening scenes, –
The father baskets weaves, the sisters sew,
Apples the brothers pare, the mother spins, -
The boy in books finds his Elysium now.
A comely child, his aspect sage, benign,
- His carriage full of innocence and grace ;
Complexion blond, blue eyes, locks brown and fine,
And frank expression in his rosy face.
Of letters mindful, emulous of lore,
Not willingly let he occasion slip
To chalk upon his mother's cleanly floor
His earliest essays at rude penmanship.
7A/A2 AWA R//EA?'.S. B.O.Y. 2 I
Her family's heirloom, a rude cabinet,
Stood near, choice things there hid for privacy, —
Old “Dilworth's Spelling-Book " " (its alphabet
Black-lettered) and her maiden diary.
Rare moment when she blessed his childish sight
With its quaint pictures, – cloud-throned Hercules,
Responsive to the wagoner's sad plight,
Will not to rescue come till, raised from knees,
The wheels he shoulder, and his horses scourge.
His thought for once his mother's did outrun,
Nor needed she his quick intention urge, –
Next morn his little journal he'd begun.
AVA: W COAVAWAEC 7/CO/7.
Lovingly his mother did her lore impart;
While with soft eyes he did her daily see,
Flushed his young fancy, touched his tender heart,
His conscience christened in his infancy.
Boy not without his faults, at home, at school,
Brimful of fancies and his own quaint will,
Sly thief of time for frolic, book, and tool, -
Needs patience, counsel, good example still.
Evenings and mornings are permitted hours
For studies which delight him and refine ;
He writes his journal or his book devours :
Book-shelf or corner is his chosen shrine.
7A/AE AWAA’A/A2/8”.S. A. O. V. 23
Thus by his parents scrupulously bred,
Religious both, industrious, plain, and poor,
His infancy he passed, by fancy led,
By fellowship unharmed, or learning's lore.
Full soon his infant gifts to task he brings,
Impatient the fair world around to know ;
Finds here his alphabet in nearest things,
And writes his thought with finger-pen on Snow.
At cross-roads near the district schoolhouse stood
Disconsolate ; ) its wide-mouthed chimney heats,
Fuelled all winter long with soggy wood,
Scarce reached the shivering pupils in their seats.
24 AVAE W COAVAWAEC 7/CO/7.
All round the room the hacked pine tables range,
Long seats in front, in Corner dungeon set ;
Master will lessons hear, books interchange,
Mend pens, set Copies, point the alphabet.
On Saturdays forth came, yellow and dim,
New England's Primer, and the scholars all
Lord's Prayer recite, commandments, cradle-hymn,
And fatal consequence of Adam's fall.
Rude was the dialect spoken here, and strong,
It pained his ear ofttimes, and finer taste;
Old Entick's columns near, he dipt among,
And for his thoughts found words more apt and chaste.”
THE FAAEA/EA”.S. B.O.Y. 25
Not much he gained at this rude nursery
Of homely learning, — taught to spell and read,
A glimpse he caught of ciphering's mystery,
Was sometimes mischievous, often at “the head.”
Yet for fair penmanship, both clean and neat,
He often won the wished-for monthly prize,
Which gave him preference for the better seat,
Desirable in every schoolmate's eyes.
Most memorable that morning hour obscure,
When with his playmates in tumultuous shout,
He sallied forth, much dazzled, and yet sure
Some one, up there, had snuffed their candle out. 13
AVAE W cowyeczycoz.
Under the cool shade where the brook did flow
From forth the fissures, with contriving hand,
Often he dabbled in the pool below,
And turned his flume across the softened sand.
Here, too, his water-wheel was proudly set,
That drove the pitman's movements underneath,
And sent the forces of the rivulet
Against the slicing saw with slashing teeth.
Soon, while soft suns with the sere frosts do vie,
Drawing sweet juices upward in the spring,
The woods he forages green sprouts to spy,
And from his rod the piping whistle wring.
7 A/A AAA’//EA’’.S. B.O.Y. 27
The treacherous fowling-piece and dangling hook
Most scrupulously he from choice forbore ;
Enticed but once, young angler, to the brook,
Thy one inveigled minnow quick restore
First Monday in September and glad May
Brings round the train-bands drest in blue and red,
The proud platoons their glittering guns display,
And he his fourpence spends for gingerbread.14
At the Great Falls, Mad River with a bound
Turns the prodigious wheel with motion slow,
And sets the furious millstone whirling round, -
Then from the dripping buckets drops below.
AVAE W COAVAWAEC 7/C&W 7.
Hither he rides, his sack of grain astride,
Waits while his grist 'neath the harsh millstone churns,
The miller taking toll, - then mounts with pride
Atop his load and leisurely returns.1%
His week's work done, he to the mill-pond hies,
His thirst for agile river sports to slake;
With the coy swimmers plunge, then proudly rise,
And from his dripping locks the Spangles shake.
Perched on the wheel-mill's axle, with birch thong
Forward the unwilling beast he urges round
The beaten track; tedious the day and long,
Yet comes no respite till the pile is ground.
ZTAE/E AWA RMEA’’.S. B.O.Y. 29
But when compelling screws the pomace Squeeze,
And the luxurious liquor forth is prest,
His privileged moment then the boy will seize,
Ply well his straw, the cider sip with zest.”
Then comes his tall white-haired grandfather old,
And takes his little namesake on his knee,
While his deep pocket does red apple hold,
That morning plucked from his June apple-tree.
Sometimes his kindly aunt the boy detains,
Brings from her pantry shelf her new-baked bread,
And while she pleasantly him entertains,
Butters his slice, with toothsome honey spread.
NEW COMAWEC 7/CU 7.
From the log cabin near his uncle Comes,
Tells wondrous stories of old warlike times, –
Of Farmingbury's red fifers, rolling drums, –
And war-songs perpetrates with Swaggering rhymes.”
Of his commissioned father loves to tell—
His “minute men’” — their secret countersign ;
Of Jersey's battles, and what sore befell
The Continental troops at Brandywine.
To cheer the genial neighbor, whom long eve
And wood-fire welcomes with its friendly blaze,
The cup he passes, hopes he will not leave, –
Too short the time while he conversing stays.
7A/AE AWAA’MEA?'.S BO V. 3 I
Sweet pastime his whene'er the lowering skies
Indoors his neighbors prison and detain ;
Then chalk, or book, chisel or lathe, suffice
To hold his hand, beguile his busy brain.
Once curiously he from the rifted bole
Of a clear-veinéd maple-tree shaved thin
A violin's hollowed sides, and the neck's scroll
Carved quaintly, then drew music from within.”
Yet less skill had he with the fiddle-bow,
And dexterous mastery of mellifluous sound,
Than subtle insight of this splendrous show
Unmasking nature's mysteries profound.
AVE W COMAWAEC 7/CU 7.
Oft on the height will he his morning pass,
On his dim future musing dreamily, -
Coin piles of glimmering wealth from isinglass,
Apt type of his ideal pageantry.
Or, idly lingering by the near brookside,
His frolic fancy quick enchanted sees
Along the shallow margin spreading wide,
Fair sand-sheets for his artless traceries.
Good pleasure has he in the harvest-field, -
Their forenoon’s luncheon left in the cool spring,
While the blithe mowers scythe and cradle wield,
Lay swath of grass or grain with widening swing.”
7THE FAAEMEA’S AO V. 33
Again on wintry days with thumping flail
The sheaves he threshes with a hearty will,
Then fans and winnows, measures the full tale,
And pours in sacks all ready for the mill.
Sometimes on sled he to the wood repairs,
The runners creaking o'er the frozen ground;
Smites the tall tree, no dexterous blows he spares
Till down it crashes with an echoing sound.
November loiters with the wished-for feast,
The bright flames kindled in the “spare room " smile
On cousins sleek and shining in their best, —
Pudding and compliments, in turn, beguile.
MEW COMAWE.cz/coz:
Nor fail they when in rustic glee to call
Black Tony's sweeping bow ; when the smooth floor
Checkers with dancers in gay festival,
The custards waiting till the reel is o'er.20
In graceful motions of the whirling dance
And cheerful frolic joined he diffidently;
Preferred the rather kindly consonance
Of heart with heart in silent courtesy.
Pleased when behind the jingling, merry bells,
With tightened rein in mittened hand they ride
Along the turnpike road, by glades and dells,
His veiled Amanda sitting at his side.
7THE FAAEMA2A’’.S Aſſ O Y. 35
Indoors the Needle's Eye they both must pass,
Its thread that runs so nimbly and so true ;
It has caught many a Swain and blushing lass,
Best prize of all, Amanda, it caught you.
º “Then come, Philander, let's be marching,
Every one speaks from his heart-string;
Choose your true-love now or never,
And forever choose no other.
Love, farewell ! daring, farewell
We are all for marching, marching.”.”
36 AVE W COMAWECTICUZ.
Thus must he forward fare, the farmer's boy,
Beyond the limits of his neighborhood;
Eager of heart, companionable, if coy,
Society he sought in solitude.
One youth he knew, in sight of chimney's smoke,
Fired with the love of letters, – only one;”
Together they a fairer lot bespoke, –
For fortune's frown let mother-wit atone.
Of kindred mind, as kindred by descent,
Their evenings they in studies choose to spend;
Seek each the other's lore to complement,
Their diaries keep and weekly letters send.
7THE AAA’A/A2A’’.S AO Y. 37
Like books they borrow, projects entertain,
As life its opening pages round them spread ;
What gifts are theirs seem not yet clearly plain,
Their expectations vague and dimly read.
For news long two miles ride they, at week's end,
The papers from New Haven posting slow,”
Though hostile Indian cruelties impend,
And Erie's Lake sees Perry sink the foe.
Parades are common in those boyish days;
Young citizens will drill in rank and file ;
Captain, lieutenant, ensign, will display
Their wooden guns in creditable style.
38 AVE W COAVAVAEC 77GO/7.
Through scenes grotesque and wild glides Hancock's
Brook,
Precipitous its sides, with ivy crowned ;
Neglected long, yet not at last forsook,
It leaps the mill-dam o'er with plashing sound.
Down from the farms the rustic youngsters come,
Drain the steep mountain of its bravest blood,
Each hand and tool accord to factory's hum,
And higher pay they gain beside the flood.
Here in the shop, above the flume and sand,
While whir the forces of mechanic fate,
Busied aloft, where the red clock-shops stand,
His fingers guide Time's o'er the dial-plate.”
7A/E FAA’MEA?'.S. B.O.Y. 39
Meantime he counts each hapless morn and night
The while his six days' wages here he earns,
Till up the ivied gorge, for home delight,
By Saturday evening's moonlight he returns.
Past now his twelvemonth's long apprenticeship
To arts mechanic, he seeks some amends
For missed attainments, and for Scholarship
The parson's three months' winter term attends.”
Their morning walk the cousins here did take
From Spindle Hill to the small schoolroom, where
Far more they gained themselves for learning's sake
Than all their learned pastor had to spare.
4O AVE W COA/AWAEC 7TWCO/7.
A few disciples near had Wesley found,
Here in derision called the “Brand New Lights”;
The Curious cousins seek the Camping-ground,
Their eyes to flatter with the novel sights.
Confusing scene ! with its pale kerchiefed saints,
And shrill, Sweet Songs, the trumpet’s call for prayer,
The rapturous shoutings, and the piteous plaints,
The tearful glories, agonized despair;
Swoonings from fancy or from gloomy fear,
Mingling despondent woe with cloudless bliss,
Feigned sometimes seemed and sometimes all sincere,
Mid forest's glimmer and deep night's abyss.
THE FARMER's Boy. 4 I
Longwhile these wood-notes, like high minstrelsy,
Came floating downward on his raptured ear,
Chanting the dear All-Loving Mystery,
In ardent melodies, heartfelt and clear: —
“Jesus saw me when a stranger
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed his precious blood.
“Oh to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to thee.”
42 AVE W COAVAWEC 77CO/7.
Then sometimes went he by the ivied road,
Wading the brooks with banks moss-lined and high,
Through the deep gorge to his grandsire's abode,
Where the wild Naugatuck swept rushing by 26
Mount Jericho's ledge, and thence along its shores
Dashed, heedless of the driftwood's eddying whirls,
As by the cornfields green it onward pours,
And 'gainst the jutting rocks its current chafes and curls;
Now, swollen by numerous streams, the flooded bank
Sees Waterbury's mills beside it rise,
Whose varied industry, in growing rank,
Sheffield and English Birmingham outvies.
7A/AE AAA’MAEA’’.S AO Y. 43
There quivering o'er its reed-grown stagnant mire,
Hid 'neath steep hills, the ambitious village slept,
Hugged its white houses and its towering spire;
Round Abrigador's ledge Mad River swept.
Nurse of fair business and laborious art,
Whose fostering carefulness, unsparing hand,
Transformed the vale into a bustling mart,
Broidering with enterprise the river's strand.”
Home of shrewd wit, its tributary brook,
Whence Trumbull's genius scorched McFingal's crest,
Chapfallen traitor, his suspicious look
By tar-pot's feathering fleece rudely suppressed.*
AVE W COMAWAEC 7/CU7.
Defiant still, it cleaves Rock Rimmon's pile,
Mingling its wave with gallant Humphrey's name;
Friend of Mount Vernon's chieftain, he, the while,
And warrior poet of provincial fame.29
Vale of unpictured grandeur, dost await
The artist's graceful pencil, eye, and hand?
Thy peaks, forth looking o'er “The Steady State,”
Behold each stream by iron railways spanned.
Beyond the confines of his neighborhood
A fairer country lay, he had not seen ;
Yet ere within its space his footsteps stood,
Thither his travelled thought post-haste had been.
.
;
7A/E FARMER'S BOY. - 45
Bound for New Haven's port, in rustic guise,
At Cheshire pauses he, through spy-glass views
The landscape round: rather his curious eyes
The bookshelves capture and their leaves peruse.
Here dwelt his reverend uncle Tillotson,”
With priestly gifts and wholesome learning graced ;
His noble namesake's faith he taught anon
In this sequestered academic place.
At church or school he might not miss or pass
Nor Hebrew Joseph's, nor old Homer's tale;
The while he reads, recites before his class,
His mild eye moistens and his accents fail.
46 AVE W COAVAWAEC 77CU 7.
Sound knowledge his and deep sagacity;
All seemings pondered he and duly weighed,
Deemed all things had a subtle unity,
And of “Religion, Science the handmaid.”
With cane and buckled knee he oft did tread
With stately step the pleasant village green;
His rosy cheek he bares and hoary head,
And cons his verses for the magazine.
At sight of the Elm City's shadowed Green,”
Its bustling streets, long wharf, and shifting shrouds
On ocean's armlet in the offing seen,
Amazed, the boy's quick fancy overclouds.
7 HE FAAEMEA’’S BOY 47
Breaks on his vision here the livelier scene, –
A world of business, varied, unconfined;
Aside is drawn the dark withholding screen,
Mount Carmel's curtain he now looks behind.
This mart of wonders new his eye detains,
While by his father's guidance curiously
He views the dazzling shops, the wharves and lanes,
And plain gray homestead of his ancestry.
Nor does he pass unwonderingly the pile
Of venerable name, where Pierson's hand
Had shaped Yale's future happily, meanwhile,
In liberal learning foremost in the land.
48 - AVE W COAVAWEC 7TWCU 7.
Amidst the scarcity of men and books
He seeks what food his district can supply;
All round for miles most curiously he looks,
His hunger to appease, by chance to satisfy.
There lived an aunt not far, of serious mind,
Who loved her books and lent them with advice;
Coming and searching carefully, he did find
Young's Night Thoughts and great Milton's Paradise,
With other pieces of pure piety, —
What holy Hervey once did “meditate,”
Burgh's book of Human Nature's Dignity,”
Adventurous Crusoe and his Savage mate.
ZTA/A2 AAA’A/AEA’’S BOY 49
Again it chanced, when on this quest for lore,
Forth from smoked covert eagerly he drew
(Like prize his eye had never seen before) —
The Pilgrim's pictured Progress, strange and new.38
O charming story ! dear, delightful book
Haply, “I have thee now, my latest found ;
My haunts by meadow, forest, rock, and brook
Made, as I read, by thee enchanted ground.
Fair Salem's turrets in the distance see,
Delectable and clear, above the mist;
Nearer, see burdened Christian frightened flee
From flashing mountains' flame, warned by Evangelist.
5O AVAE W COAVAWAEC 77CO/7.
See, see, the puddle there, — Slough of Despond, -
Far in the valley low the city's fate;
Still farther on, and farther still beyond,
Behold in sight “the little wicket gate.”
Its homely pictures fill his startled mind;
A-field his oxen in the furrow wait
The while he reads, beneath the shade reclined, -
Too soon his candle fades at evening late.
His sacred classic now the book became,
Its text oft copied, read anew each day, -
New fledged his fancy, set his heart aflame,
Led him to follow safe in Christian's way.
7A/AE AWAA’//EA”.S. B.O.Y. 5 I
Plainly books have close kinship with his mind,
And he that kinship will in kind repay ;
Some compensating errand he will find,
On tables will a goodly volume lay.
In homespun shawl fast knotted carefully,
His pack he shoulders, and soon disappears
The hill-top o'er ; down its declivity,
Like burdened Christian, westward then he steers.
Far onward wandering he inquires his way,
Solicits names for Flavel’s “Saint Indeed,” —
Saints, sinners, without scruple, sign and pay;
He gains their names to the good Baptist's creed.34
52 AVAE W COAVAWAEC 7/CO/7.
His slender profits at New Haven spends
For a choice copy of the Common Prayer,
His part to take when weekly he attends
The Sunday service at the schoolhouse near ;
Where in plain dress he stands, or bends the knee,
Or in the anthems by the pitch-pipe set
Responsive joins, or lowly litany,
That in the pious soul finds echo yet.
The elders often choose him in their stead
Lay reader in this dedicated fane ;
By priestly instincts reverently led,
The service he doth seriously sustain.
7A/E FAA’A/AEA”.S. B.O.Y. 53
Plain farmers all, some Churchmen by descent,
Some signers-off from Calvin's colder creed,
Assembled here they decent Sundays spent,
And sowed of All Souls' Church the wayside seed.”
The Sabbath day was holy, and all play
Was sinful, business next, and visiting too ;
All should their Bible read, and humbly pray,
And, near or distant, to the meeting go.
The morning cavalcade, a proud display, -
The elders mount, the children safe behind ;
And swarming households chequer all the way,
As to the Hill they numerously wind.
54 AVAE W COAVAWEC 7/CU 7.
High o'er the pulpit hangs the sounding-board,
And close beneath the deacons' sober seat;
Room for whole families the pews afford,
The aisles ecclesiastically neat.
The singers' seats round the front gallery range;
The psalm is read (omitting the fifth clause),
All round the fugue notes fly in concert strange,
Yet all in time accord with rapt applause.”
Fervent and worshipful ascends the prayer;
In order next the serious sound discourse ;
The application follows; none can spare
The benediction, nor free intercourse.
7'HAE FAAEM/A2A’’.S. B.O.Y. 55
Meantime the tithing-man his vigilant eyes
Straight on the Sabbath-breaker fastens so,
That scarce he needs to startle and surprise
Boys in the galleries or the pews below.
Nor fails the summer garden to fulfil
Its Sabbath promise, – Sprigs of Caraway,
All 'kerchiefed with sweet fennel and ripe dill,
The services appetize and make glad the day.
Dress heightens virtue, Sundays specially,
Worn then for worship and for conquest now ;
And no less punctual evening's gallantry
Than that the morning's service did allow.
56 AVE W COA/AWEC 7TWCUT.
The custom favored gentle forwardness,
Those chosen evenings sealed the sweet surprise;
Could happier moment aid youth's bashfulness
To lisp his sonnet to his lady's eyes? 37
PART II.
THE PEDZER'S PROGRESS.
YoUTH casts its glance into the future far,
Stirred from within by its deep-felt unrest,
Led forward by some bright bewildering star,
And holds a fair ideal in its breast.
Forth from his nest before the approaching cold,
Fired by strange impulse and a dim foresight,
Thirst for adventure, novelty, and gold,
Our bird of passage takes his southward flight.
58 AVE W COAVATA, C 7TWCO/7.
The Genius prompts and sends him out to find
His proper calling, and his wits to try;
Leaving his home and friends and farm behind,
He tempts the future with a prying eye.
Whilst at New Haven's long, extended quay
The sloop Three Sisters hoists her ready sails,
He steps on board ; past Hurlgate, and at sea,
The little vessel rides with favoring gales.
On board a breezy company there was, –
Boisterous and bold; if winds did lull or fail,
Straightway, it almost seemed, their blustering noise
Held taut the canvas and e'en filled the sail.
TAZAZ AAEA)ZAZA’’.S. PAEOGAEA.S.S. 59
Pedlers, by chance, they seek a kindlier clime,
A larger license ; would fond hopes fulfil
Of ampler wages, Cozening there, meantime,
Than their shrewd wits can earn on that cold Hill.98
Speeds the bold craft before the driving wind
Past Henry's Cape, sea-kissing Rip-Raps round;
Her seven days’ passage o'er, the vessel find
Beside the Norfolk pier all safe and sound.
There Ocean's surges wash the docks and streets,
The tilted tumbrels line the market's side;
Across the ferry Portsmouth's numerous fleets,
Where navies of all nations proudly ride. 39
6o
AVAE W COA/AWAEC 77CUT.
Knight-errant journeying here, anonymous,
Dismal his prospects, as he sorrowing learns;
Schoolmaster none is this Autolycus, –
Through Dismal Swamp to Norfolk he returns.40
No, not to teach, as he had fondly dreamed,
This rash adventure proves no tilt at fame;
Peddle he will, but not his wits, it seemed,
Nor widely wandering from an honored name.
Need pedler's calling propagate disgrace
In offering almanacs at good people's doors?
He tries his fortune with his boldest face,
And sells at largest profits by full scores.**
7A/AE AAA) ZAZA’’.S. AAEOGRAESS. 6 I
New Year's e'en here lasts not the twelvemonth round,
And almanacs are passing out of date ;
Somewhere a wider circuit must be found,
Some choicer toys to lure and Captivate.
He ventures next a bold experiment,
His hand-trunk fills with goods of costly sort,”
Then sallies forth on fresh adventures bent,
Across the Roads to Hampton's little port.
In homespun dressed, his trinkets by his side,
He trudges hopeful, bent on goodly gains,
Thinks, as he plods, with heartfelt, homely pride,
If friendly fortune come not, wit maintains.
AWE W COAVAVEC 77CU 7.
By princely mansions and plantations rare,
Along sequestered road and inland creek,
Virginia's fallow fields, laid waste by war,
By Yorktown's ruins, far-famed Chesapeake,
He takes his wandering way, afar, alone;
Rests sometimes by the roadside, undelayed,
Her tumbling temples notes, her altars gone,
Deserted now, or in piled fragments laid.
Now opening through the pines, far off, appear
The spacious court, slave-quarters, mansion hoar;
Whose guarded gates he passes without fear,
By kindly hounds escorted to its door.
7A/E A2ED/CAER'S PROGRA.S.S. 63
%,:
Curious the maidens wait; the queenly dame
Our bashful chapman's errand will explore:
“No pedler he, no Northern tarnished name,
Footman like him ne'er travelled here before.
“Jewels, choice ornaments, and countless things,
From Norfolk's mart he bears, a rich display, —
All these for our convenience here he brings, –
Never was stranger turned by us away.” 43
Kind courtesies our guest from host receives,
In conversation stays, or hastes away, -
Amid the learned libraries' charmed leaves
Left to himself, he reads the livelong day;
AVE W COAWAVEC 7TWC U 7.
Or courts the matron's choicer company,
Mild sunshine mirrored in her friendly face,
Or daughters' glances shy, yet fancy free,
Refined by modesty and maiden grace.
New school of manners for the farmer's boy,
Here midst Virginia's most illustrious names,
Still diffident, observant, curious, coy,
Charmed with her lovely daughters, queenly dames.
Now morn has come, and he will take his leave,
Yet on his hostess will some gift bestow ;
“No, no, ourselves the benefit receive,
Again return our thanks the while we owe.”
7"HE A*E/DZAZA”.S AROGRA.S.S. 65
Gifts to the servants then : the motley ring
Throng round the doorstep, and with sly device
Cheapen with praise each preferable thing,
Pleased to have won it at their own set price.
The creek across, or through the roadside gate
Cheerful he passes, while the morning shines
On his good fortune; no disasters wait
As on he trudges and the day declines.44
If by mischance of travel he fall short
Of entertainment at some planter's hearth,
The Cross-Roads Inn becomes his best resort,
Filled with gay company and noisy mirth.
AVE W COMAWAEC 77CO/7.
New England's customs find small favor here :
A freer life, more opulent, less discreet,
Far more restrained by courtesy than fear,
E’en when the master and the menial meet.
Court days together draw the country round,
Slave-dealers, slaves, Senators of loud fame,
Judge, jockey, gentleman, checker the ground,
Dispute, talk politics, trade, drink, and game.
When Sundays come he joins his host in prayer,
Or from his bookshelf steals a pure delight,
Or entertains discourse, or sometimes there
Within, will letters or adventures write.**
7A/A2 AAZZO/A2/8”.S PACOGAEA.S.S. 67
Sweet rural pictures on the shelves he finds, –
Goldsmith's good Vicar, piping Traveller,
The charming Seasons in their several kinds,
Lavater's chart of face and character.46
Nor can the youth pass by forgetfully
Old Yorktown's field, where erst the English lord,
Whom allied foes besieged by land and sea,
Resigned to Washington his conquered sword.
Nor William and Mary's University,
Nurse of proud patriots in former time,
Of princely manners and nobility,
Still sighing for its old Colonial prime.*
AVE W COAVAWAEC 7TWCO/7.
His monthly circuits bring him round again,
His goods renewed, with new attractions too;
Nor Yorktown nor proud Williamsburg abstain
From traffic so convenient and so new.
Through bleak December's sleet and April's rains
Onward he fares till genial spring appears
And ends his journey. Profitable his gains,
Measured by standard of those frugal years
When knowledge ampler weighed than lighter gold.
We need not further follow, longer trace
His circuits by plantations famed and old,
Nor landlords name, their rank or social place.*
7A/AE AEA D/CAEA’’.S. AAEOGRA.S.S. 69
He forms new friendships and finds genial homes,
In costly mansions spends delightful days,
Is welcomed warmly when he monthly comes,
And entertained the while, well pleased, he stays.
One blot he notes defacing the fair scene, –
The knot of keys at lofty mistress’ side,
The cowhide's gashes, and the look obscene, –
Courtesy ill mingling with imperious pride.89
Did there the Sphinx his gliding sense assail,
With her beguiling arts and sorceries,
And did his startled conscience then prevail,
And hold inviolate the sweet mysteries?
7o AVE W COAVAVEC 7/CC/7.
Happy if he preserve the blest estate,
And crown life's close with equanimity;
Open wide at last the Heaven's cloud-capt gates
To chaste-eyed Purity with crystal key.90
His business closed, he homeward casts his eyes,
Pleased to have known such courtly company;
Gold gained by his successful enterprise,
Knowledge far more, and kind civility.
From Norfolk's Borough and through Hampton Roads
The freighted coaster sails the ocean o'er,
Passes the Hook and at her dock unloads,
In the great mart he sets his foot on shore.
7A/AE AAEA) ZAZA’’.S. AA’OGAEA.S.S. 7 I
.i
Home near, his hopes and fears can he conceal,
As from the chimney's top smoke curls and drifts?
He thinks what six months' absence shall reveal, -
Its threshold crosses and the latch uplifts.
Welcomed, approved, his gains and ventures told,
Not strange if round the Hill the rumor ran,
Gathered, in telling, gloss of glittering gold :
“No farmer now, but a fine gentleman.”
PART III.
THE A D VEAVTURE REAVE WEI).
PAST is the harvest now, the farming's done,
The maple glowing with its crimson dye ;
Soft shines the Indian Summer's yellow sun
On voyagers of air, that southward fly.
These omens reading, and the prosperous gale,
The adventurous cousins journey in due time
To snug New Haven's wharf-side, and set sail
Again for yonder mild, romantic clime.
74 AVE W COMAWEC 7TWCUT,
Tempestuous passage has the laden craft,
By blasts contrarious toward Bermudas borne,
Till shifting winds and welcome pilot waſt
The Crazy merchantman to port, unshorn.
Unskilful seamen, on a huckstering trip,
For Charleston's market bound, their bark for sale, .*
If, with her cargo and Scant seamanship,
She chance to outride the rough autumnal gale.
Behind the wains slow-trudging all the way
Across a Country marshy and champaign,
While wagoners their luggage safe convey,
Forth to the uplands fare the pilgrims twain;
THE AD VEAVTURE A*AAVE WE D. * 75
.|{
Through muddy stream and knee-deep puddles wade,
On some dry hillock pause above the mire,
Baiting on teamster's forage, undismayed,
Sleep on pine needles by the brushwood fire.
\, By fields of rice, cotton, and indigo
They travel wearily, with undaunted will,
Rise to Columbia from the fens below,
Thence to their wished-for station, Abbeville.
Persistent then their earlier dreams renew,
Bright fancy dazzled with the alluring prize;
Here the schoolmaster's calling they’ll pursue,
Hope in their hearts, romance within their eyes.
76 * AVAE W COA/AWAEC 77CO/7.
By single terms adventuring for their board,
Cabined in walls where snow and rain make way,
Near some unwholesome spring, with drinking-gourd, –
Shall such dull tasks young pedagogues essay?
Scant rudiments of learning (rude indeed)
The gaping towheads gather here to gain ;
All of that little did the teacher need, -
Such length of body, with such lack of brain
Strangely your alphabet ye travesty,
Ye dull wiseacres of the rusty land,
Pronounce your final letters learnedly, -
“Izzard ” is 2, and next comes “ampersand.”
f
7 H.A. AAD VAZAV7'OA’Aº Aº AºAVAE WAEA). 77
“Why further stay on Carolina's ground?
No prospects open here for hopeful gains;
Better remain at home the twelvemonth round,
Where ampler wages come for lesser pains.
“Let us forthwith to Norfolk's port repair;
This search for schools, awhile, we’ll set aside ;
Some other calling, cousin, be our care ;
Thy disappointment soften, soothe thy pride.”
Along the narrow, fenced road they passed,
Rivers they forded, oft inquired the way,
Their little bundles in their hands held fast;
At public houses seldom could they stay.
78
AVAE W COA/AWEC 7:/CO/7. /
Next a long stretch of sand and sterile ridge,
Persimmon-patches, hovels' Smoke and soot,
Tar forests, Tarborough (with its lengthened bridge);
No other cities on their weary route,
Till Gosport's pennons, Portsmouth's town appear.
The pilgrims, pausing there, fresh toilets make,
Cross the broad ferry with refreshing cheer,
To lodge in Norfolk by the waters' wake.
'T was Christmas, when the fortnight's holidays
Are given to sport and endless jollity,
By swarthy mimics in fantastic ways,
By gentlefolk in decent gayety.
7A/E A D VEAVTURE FEAVE WEZ). 79
The motley pageant in each street is seen,
Tricked out in equipage of every hue,
Tripping to jingling thump of tamborine,
While banjos tinkled, and loud trumpets blew.
Again, on ground familiar and well proved
The Yankee cousins here their calling ply;
Though such employment be but ill-beloved,
Needs must they seek it, nor their craft deny.
Such eager hawkers into business slide,
Canvassed the Borough, they to Portsmouth cross;
Offering the “New Year's Register" with pride,
They sell their stock, and that without a loss.
8O NEW COMAWEczycuz.
Next Sallying forth, on brighter prospects bent,
From costly trinkets or plain merchandise,
Their spirits buoyant, and their minds intent,
They journey onward with observant eyes;
Plantations see, tilled by the laboring slave, ,
Rich vessels lading at the neighboring creek,
Or sailing on some noble river's wave,
Drank soon by many-throated Chesapeake.
Memory recalls their brave resounding names, –
Colonial some, and some of Indian trace, —
Potomac, Rappahannock, York, and James,
Of royal sound, or Pocahontas's race.
THE A D VEAVTURAE A&AEAVE WED. 8I
s|
Again our pedlers trudge the frozen road,
Through piny forests fare, round Creeks they skirt;
The gates unbolting to each grand abode,
They pass the growling mastiffs all unhurt.
Resistless is their sparkling pedlery,
All useful things, or Comely ornament;
Here's no cajoling nor chicancery,
Nor profits greater than the fair per cent.
Good bargains drive they through the inclement weeks,
Till vexed Aquarius pours chill rain and Snow,
Nipping their fairest hopes: the ruddy cheeks
Of one young pedler lose their wonted glow ;
82
AVE W COAVAVEC 7/CU 7.
And soon on bed of sickness low he lies,
While gloomy spectres haunt his fevered brain.
Shall Reason's sunlight animate his eyes,
And give him back to the sane world again?
Sad news from Wolcott Hill his friend received;
'Gainst these disastrous storms nought could avail.
From months of weary watch at last relieved,
He for his mountain home sets instant sail.
Bereft of thy kind counsel and good sense,
Ah faithful friend thou leavest me now alone,
To joust with fashion and improvidence, —
The dupe of others' follies, and my own
|
ZTA/A2 A/) WAEAVTORA2 ACA2AVAE WAEA). 83
Another playmate of life's early years
Here plied, as oft before, his gainful arts;
Unsympathetic ran our several ways,
Yet cousins kindred seem in foreign parts.
Together first through districts near we rid,
Environed still by dismal fen and pond;
For health and pleasure sought the invalid;
His cousin bargains : so through Nansemond,
And farther southward still their route extends,
And Carolina's fields their trade invite ;
On Chowan's banks they found the kindly Friends,
Drab-coated followers of the Inner Light.
84 AVE W COAVAWEC 7/CO/7.
j
There, midst green pastures, with their swarming bees,
Dwelt these remote, and pastoral lives they led;
Not more could Virgil's swains the fancy please,
On yellower creams, or sweeter honey fed.
Less versed in books, they trusted Nature's lore,
Schooled by habitual temperance and sense;
Of worldly goods they had abundant store;
Genial and generous, and without pretence.
Oft came all pedlers from their circuits round
To spend “First Day” inside these welcome doors;
With goodly cheer their buttery did abound;
Bright were their buffets, neat their sanded floors.
7THE A D WEAV7'URAE AeAAVE WAEA). 85
Few books, - but “Fox's Journal " they revere,
And Penn's calm rhapsody, “No Cross no Crown ; ”
Esteeming silent worship more sincere
Than loud lip-service and the Churchman's gown.
Soon came pedestrian tours 'mong gentle folk,
Who spend their money fast and lavishly,
Enjoy luxurious banquets, mirth, and joke,
And take their business late and leisurely.
So sauntering pedlers wend their devious way
By fallen church and lowly hermitage,
By mansions lordly once, now in decay,
Of Wilson, Taliaferro, Taylor, Braxton, Page.
AVA. W. COAVAVEC 7/CU 7.
}
Ancestral places of provincial name
Lure them still farther northward each day's beat, —
Mount Vernon's homestead of immortal fame,
Potomac's windings, Alexandria's street;
Thence forward to the pillared Capitol,
Blackened and blemished by a foreign foe,
Whose English prowess men must needs extol,
Though vengeance more than valor there did show.
Through Maryland roam they, nearing the free States,
Past Carrollton and stately Baltimore,
Swayed once or now by lordly potentates,
Calverts and Carrolls from the Irish shore.
7A/E A D VAZAWTURA2 RAEAVE WE/D. 87
Slow journeying, at the plainer inns they call,
Hastening, where Clinton his proud flag unfurled,
To Penn's mild city with its spacious hall,
Where once a people's challenge roused the world.
Crossing the Delaware to the Jersey shore,
They saw the Exile's villa, once of note,
That sheltered Bonaparte in days of yore ;
Thence to New York, in Amboy's ferry-boat.
Whirling with business, pleasure, noise, and pride,
Here they the city's marvels wistful view ;
Here will they rest a day from their long stride,
Refresh their spirits and their garb renew.
AVE W COAVAWEC 7/CU7.
For homespun suits are threadbare worn, and shine,
While garish windows all their fancy fill;
“Clad in this broadcloth, with these ruffles fine,
We'll dazzle the plain folks on Spindle Hill.”
The obsequious salesman draws a sumptuous store
Forth from his wardrobes, smiles complacently,
And clothes in garments gay, as ne'er before,
Our spendthrift pedlers, drest full fashionably.
Debarking at New Haven's lengthening quay,
In sleekest beaver and resplendent boot,
Our gallant knights of wayworn pedlery
(No stages running) take the road on foot.
7A/AE A/D VEAV7'URA2 RAE/WE WE D. 89
Thence up East Mountain's rocky steep they climb,
Passing the Green, the Church, the stores, the mill, -
Familiar places all, from earliest time, –
Each bound for home on yonder sightly hill.
In these plain households, startling the surprise
At such unheard magnificence of dress, –
“Are these our pedlers here before our eyes,
These handsome fellows, with such soft address P
“Black coat? and white cravat of daintiest tie P
Crimped ruffles, gleaming amethystine pin P
West of Marseilles o'er trowsers of drab dye,
Gold seals at watch-fob, jewelled watch within P”
90
}
/
AVAE W COA/AWAEC 7/COT
Next Lord's day morning, promptly sallying forth,
They flaunt in eyes devout their raiment soft,
Eclipsing thus poor homespun modest worth, –
These brilliant youth in gallery aloft.
Not undevout were they, but indiscreet;
And whilst the parson broached divinity,
Not less devotedly, from seat to seat,
Soft eyes diffused their pleasant sorcery.
Come sunset, in the shady path they strayed,
Courageous slipping by the graveyard lone,
While on their way to court some handsome maid,
No dismal spectre seeing, fearing none.
7A/AE A/D VEAV7'OA’Aº Aº AºAVAE WE/O. 9I
Shall this gay youth his soberer cousin see,
Or journal write? His mirror sees him more.
Not an accomplished coxcomb yet is he,
But far less bashful than he was before.
All through the busy, toiling summer hours
Will he for pleasure the farm-labor leave?
If o'ercast sky or threatening cloudlet lowers,
He copies verses for the Sabbath eve.
“The lovely young Lavinia once had friends,
And fortune smiled propitious on her birth.”
E’en so with him, - the sunny chapter ends,
And sudden darkness settles o'er the earth.
92
fj
|
AVE W COMAWEC 77CU7.
Midst these brief raptures and this gay success,
The sharp attorney, positive and bland,
Shows his instructions, strict and pitiless,
Demanding surety and a note of hand.
Ah now the crisis comes With agony
The frugal father, pledged for wasteful son,
His lifelong earnings puts in jeopardy,
And household troubles early have begun.
*|
*,&
PART IV.
AºA // OA’Aº A/VD RAE 7TRAEA 7.
: M* ALCOTT began in 1882 a fourth part of his
Autobiography, but had not completed it when
his illness in October of that year made further writing
impossible. A few stanzas will be given from this frag-
ment, in order to continue the story until the summer of
1823, when, toward the end of his twenty-fourth year, he
withdrew from this rambling life at the South, and took
up his manhood's task of education, to which his genius
called him. He journeyed in the autumn of 1821
through Pennsylvania and Maryland to Virginia, in com-
pany with his kinsmen and acquaintance from Wolcott,
94 AVE W COAVAVECTYCO 7.
but without his cousin William, who had been his coun-
sellor and nurse the year before. His companions now
were less worthy, and led him into some habits of expense
and indolence ; which caused the Connecticut dealer of
whom he had bought his wares upon credit, to refuse him
further time for payment: —
Soon this smooth-faced, exacting creditor
Demands of his delinquent instant pay;
Tells him without reserve or metaphor,
“Why, you're above your business, – far too gay.”
Forthwith all properties and cash in hand
To pay his debt are honestly made o'er:
Shall he now follow traffic contraband,
Begging for custom at the planter's door 2
No, the young bankrupt decides that he cannot de-
mean himself so much, and therefore will push down
into North Carolina, and teach a writing-School, being
AºA/Z UAEA. AAV/O A&AE 7TRAEA 7. - 95
gifted in penmanship. Warrenton is the place chosen ;
and thus Mr. Alcott, in a letter to his brother Chat-
field, dated April 13, 1822, relates in prose how he
came to be there : —
DEAR BROTHER,--I can imagine your surprise when you
read this letter at finding me here, engaged in teaching pen-
manship, — a very fair writing-school of a dozen scholars,
with the prospect of more : but such is the fact. At Sur-
rey Court House I met Mr. Allyn's brother; and from there
we went to Norfolk, leaving our effects at Smithfield. On
reaching Norfolk and calling upon Mr. Allyn, he gravely
intimated that I was “above my business" (and I agreed
with him), and must give him a bill of sale of my effects
then at Smithfield, in part-payment of my indebtedness for
goods taken last season, and for which he has my note, with
our father's indorsement. Those were the best terms I
could make with him. Remaining in Norfolk a few days,
I returned to Smithfield for my books and clothing; then
took the stage for Petersburg, reaching there after my
96 AVE W COMAVEC 77CO/7.
day's ride. Next morning I took the Southern stage and ..
reached this place, 185 miles from Richmond. I am at the
public hotel. This is a pleasant town on the great South-
ern road through the State of North Carolina.
In verse this adventure runs thus : —
On to the highlands then and far remote, -
Where rumor breathes not, let him come who will !
The quondam pedler there, in costly coat,
Shall show his art, wielding the feathered quill.
The stage is ready; quick he steps inside,
Knight of the goose-quill, not of tape and tin;
Southward he rides all day, with proper pride,
And 'lights, genteel, at Warrenton's best inn, –
Resort of gentle folk from far and near.
The jockeys’ chariot by the door-step whirls,
While on the Seminary lawn appear,
Dancing around the May-pole, merry girls.
AºAZZO/RAE A/V/O AEA, 7A&AEA 7. 97
\
\
\\ Costume now serves: the brightly polished boot,
The sleek white hat, the wearer's vernal bloom,
Watch-seal and ribbon, and becoming suit
Give the distinguished stranger the best room.
Proposals soon come forth, in fairest script, —
The new Professor will on pupils wait;
Strokes of his careful pen, in standish dipt,
The clerk declares “beat even copperplate.”
The judge, the parson, would be dashing scribes,
And pledge their names; the flattering clerk himself
Thinks praises easy and convenient bribes
To gain his lesson, without loss of pelf.
The landlord and fair lady ride away
To the spring races in their chariot fine,
Drawn by white steeds, caparisoned so gay,
And tavern business to the clerk resign.
But the writing-school does not draw pupils enough to
pay the master's board at the costly inn, where he has
98 AVE W COMAWEC 7/CU 7.

ſ
leisure to read Moore’s “Melodies '' and ~/
comedies and tales. He therefore determines to depart
at night, leaving his watch and cloak behind to pay his
tavern bill.
The sunset's blaze forsakes the window-panes;
Then from his low apartment, with his pack,
Steals he along the streets and winding lanes,
Wandering all night, far from the beaten track,
Like fleeing slave pursued by dismal fears,
Who hopes and dreads the light of coming day,
As by the friendly star he northward steers,
Nor stops till, safe, he walks the public way;
E’en so our fugitive travels in his flight
Each unfrequented, each remotest road,
Till the great thoroughfare comes full in sight;
And pausing there, he lays aside his load.
FA/Z UAEAE AAWD RE 7 RAEA 7. 99
\
\, By cornfields green, acres of waving wheat,
Y
Ripe for the sickle and the threshing-floor,
Midst forests sheltering many a planter's seat,
His hasty steps avoid each open door.
For sleep and meals he can but moments spare,
Until he reach Virginia's Northern Necks,
And join again his brother trading there, —
Near Rosewell House, in sandy Middlesex.
Rosewell fair pride of the colonial age,
Then in its grandeur, when its lord had sway,
The friend of Jefferson, baronial Page;
Thou'rt now the mouldering monument of that day.
The ruins of former magnificence suited well the mood
of the forlorn traveller, who had lost his chance and fallen
into debt. These are his reflections as he hurries onward
through Maryland and Pennsylvania with diminishing
stock of money : —
:
:
:
*
:
:
º
:
;
IOO AVE W COMAWEC 77CU 7.
i
O
“Gay knight of goose-quill, flourishing of late,
From sudden pounce of Pinchfist newly flown, ſ
Absconding now, needy and profligate, — *
Poor footsore pilgrim, penniless and lone,
“Wouldst thou ride Fancy o'er her giddy ground 2
Fancy — cool-headed judgment's constant foe —
A skittish hippogriff is always found,
And her rash rider she will surely throw.”
On foot he seeks Penn's city; o'er him dark i
The threatening clouds impend, and thunders roll,
As when bold Franklin caught the crinkling spark;
Hies on, and at the ferry pays his toll.
He embarks at Perth Amboy for New York, and spends
almost his last dollar for his fare, which the captain hands
back to him upon seeing his tattered condition and grace-
ful bearing. He throws away his worn-out boots, and at
New York supplies himself with shoes, sails for Nor-
:
:
O
;
AºA // URA2 AAVO RA, 7A0A2A 7. IOI
\
walk with a Yankee skipper, and plods homeward to
Wolcott on foot.
t here on the summit of his native hill,
Dreaming no more of fortunes won by chance,
Adventurous Fancy cannot dupe him still
with glittering vagaries of romance.
In the same year, 1822, he is persuaded to try his
fortune once more at the South, and spends December,
January, February, and the Spring months of 1823 among
his old friends the Quakers of North Carolina. But
worldly success fails to attend him, though he gains in
spiritual life; he falls sick again with fever and ague,
and reaches Wolcott early in July, 1823, “sallow and
spiritless,” and weighed down with debt. His disease
is not fairly mastered until 1825, when he enters upon a
new and congenial life at Cheshire, with his uncle, Dr.
Bronson. The period of the Sonnets begins in 1827.
N O T E S.
–0–
NOTE I, page 7.
THE town of Wolcott was formed from territory taken from
the ancient towns of Farmington and Waterbury, Conn. The
part taken from Waterbury, in which are Spindle Hill and New
Connecticut, was called Farmingbury Parish previous to the incor-
poration of the township in 1796. It was named Wolcott from the
second Governor of Connecticut, of that name. As a summer
retreat it has attractions and facilities for health and recreation
hardly surpassed by any spot in Western Connecticut. The highest
of the high lands in that section, its commanding views of a wide
range of country, salubrious air, pure water, wild woodland drives,
simple, well-disposed people, – these entitle it to a far wider knowl-
edge on the part of the community than it has obtained.
I know of no more primitive people in the State than the present -
occupants of these old Wolcott homesteads, – few finer studies for
the novelist, the artist's pencil. The scenery is bold and pictur-
esque. Seen from the summit of New Connecticut, the view com-
~ mands many townships sleeping in the distance, — Torrington on
IO4 AVAE W COAVMA2CZVCU 7.
the north, Plymouth and Northfield on the northwest, on the West
Litchfield and Morris and Watertown ; Middlebury on the south-
west; overlooking Waterbury on the south lies Prospect, Mount
Carmel, and Hamden on the southeast ; Meriden Hills east of
Wolcott Hill, overlooking Southington. The line of Hancock's
Brook is seen along the valley west, its sides clothed with ivies,
hemlocks, and birches; woodlands in all directions interspersed,
fringing the cultivated fields and pastures, giving charming touches
to the picture. The manners and dialect of the early settlers still
linger on those highlands; the pursuits are the same. It is the
pride and boast of the farmers that their oxen and steers excel in
stature and strength, and their military company is the tallest and
the best equipped and disciplined in the regiment, at the annual
Field Days; their Drum Band is still famous, and sought on all
public occasions far and near.
NOTE 2, page I.O.
The name is spelled Alcocke in English history By authority
of the king, about 1616, a coat of arms was granted to Thomas
Alcocke of Silbertosf in the county of Leicester. The device is
three cocks, emblematic of watchfulness. The motto is “Vigilate.”
The first of the name appearing in English history is John Alcocke,
born in Beverly in the county of Yorkshire. Thomas Fuller gives
the following account of him in his Worthies of England:—
“He was bred a Doctor of Divinity at Cambridge, and at last
became Bishop of Ely. His prudence appeared in that he was pre-

AVO 7TE.S. Io5
ºned Lord Chancellor of England by King Henry VII., a prince
of an excellent palate to taste men's abilities, and a dunce was no
dish for his diet. His piety is praised by the pen of Bishop Bale,
which (though occasionally bitter) drops nothing but honey on
Alcocke's memory, commending him for a mortified man, “given to
learning and piety from childhood, growing from grace to grace,
so that, in his age, were none in England higher for holiness.” He
turned the old Nunnery of St. Radigund into a new college called
Jesus, in Cambridge. Surely had Malcolm, King of Scots, first
founder of this Nunnery, lived to see this alteration, it would have
rejoiced him in heart to behold lewdness and laziness turned Out,
for industry and piety to be put in their place. Alcocke died Octo-
ber 1, 1500, and had Saintship gone as much by merit as favor, he
deserved one as well as his namesake, St. John, his predecessor in
that See.” — Fuller's Worthies, Vol. II. p. 521.
Warton, in his History of English Poetry, says that Barclay's
Eclogues were the first that appeared in our language, being written
about 1514. And he quotes from them Barclay's praise of Bishop
Alcocke. He was an author and translator of some celebrity in his
time, as well as architect and statesman.
“Nothing cheers the heart of kindred more
Than the ancestor's fair glory gone before.”
NOTE 3, page IO.
Thomas and George Alcocke were the first of the name among the
settlers in New England. Thomas first settled in Boston, afterwards
Ioé AVAE W COAVAWAEC 7/CO/7. 2
at Dedham ; John in Roxbury. Of the latter, Rev. John Eliot (the
apostle) says in his Church Records : — ,
“Mr. George Alcocke came out in the first company i. 1630.
He left his only son in England, his wife dying soon after hºCame to
this land. When the people of Rocksborough joined to the church
at Dorchester until such time as God should give them to be a
church among themselves, he was by the church chosen express to
be a deakon; after, to regard the brethren at Rocksborough. And
after he adjoined himself to this church at Rocksborough he was
advanced to deakon of this church. He made two voyages to
England upon just calling thereto, wherein he had much experience
of God’s providence and blessing. He brought over his son John
Alcocke. He also brought over a wife, by whom he had his second
son, Samuel, born in the year He lived in a good and godly
sort, and dyed in the end of the tenth month, Anno 1640, the poor of
his church much lamenting his loss.”
Governor Dudley, in his letter to the Countess of Lincoln, speaks of
the death of his first wife, “Mrs. Alcocke, a sister of Mr. Hooker,”
dying at Charlestown. He was a deputy to the General Court from
Roxbury for the years 1634, 35, '36, and '37.
His son John graduated at Harvard College in 1646. Governor
Winthrop, writing from “Boston 16:6:’46, to his son, Mr. John
Winthrop, Jr., at Pequoit’” (New London, Conn.), says: —
“There were three hopeful young men commenced Masters of
Arts the last commencement. One is a schoolmaster at Hartford,
the other at Concord.” The schoolmaster at Hartford is presumed to

º AVO 7TES. Io?
have been John Alcocke, drawn thither by his uncle, Rev. Thomas
Hooker, The other, at Concord, may have been Mr. Nathaniel
White.
Mr. John Alcocke was afterwards a physician, and resident at Rox-
bury. He appears to have been an active person in the affairs of the
colony. Hudson, in his Memorials of the Mosses, says: —
“Dr. Alcocke belonged to the nobility of the colony. As was then
their custom, he improved a farm at Marlborough as a kind of
manor. He is presumed to have built the splendid house, for
those days, which stood for one hundred and fifty years on the
spot now occupied by Stephen Moss, Esq., and which, defended
by a neighboring garrison, escaped the torch of the enemy often
seen skulking about during the second and third Indian wars.
Hither himself and family resorted occasionally, as is believed, until
his wife and daughters had contracted such an attachment that the
Doctor, in 1666, left the farm of 1,000 acres at his death, with the
stock and utensils, to Anna, Sarah, and Mary, who, in 1670, were
the wives of John Williams of Boston, Zachariah Whitman of
Hull, and Joshua Lamb of Boston.”
This farm, it appears, was granted to Dr. Alcocke by the Honor-
able General Court of Massachusetts “in consideration of many long
services discharged for the country, as also of other services.”
A granddaughter of his, Sarah, the daughter of Rev. Samuel
Whitman, of Farmington, Conn. (son of Zachariah), married Rev.
John Trumbull, of Watertown, Conn., and was the mother of
John Trumbull, the author of the Revolutionary satire entitled
, Io& - AVAE W COAVAVA2CZYCO/7. 2’
“McFingal,”—“a burlesque poem directed against the enemies
of American liberty, and holding up to scorn and contempt the
Tories and British officers, naval, military, and civil, in America.” It
was very popular at the time of its publication, — 1775–1782.
Mr. Thomas Alcocke came in Winthrop's fleet with his brother
George. He was one of the original signers of the Covenant of the
First Church at Boston, dated at Charlestown, August 27, 1630, his
name standing the forty-fifth in the list of members. In the Church
Records, dated “8: 7 : 1639, our brother Thomas Alcocke and Sister
Margery are recommended to the church at Dedham.” He was one
of the original planters of that town.
His widow, Margery, married, November 16, 1659, John Benham,
of New Haven. Letters from Rev. John Davenport, of New Haven,
to John Winthrop, Jr., give some account of Mr. Benham's journey
homeward with his wife, and of her decease : —
“NEw HAven, 13:2; 1659.
HoNorLD SIR, - I received yours by brother Benham, whom
God preserved from being drowned on his journey homeward. The
river by Mr. Yale’s farm was swollen high ; his wife was fearful of
riding through it. God provided an helpe for her at the instant,
by a passenger who travelled from Windsor to Branford to Mr.
Crane's, whose daughter he had married. He helped sister Benham
over a tree. But her husband adventuring to ride through, a foote
of his horse slipped, so he fell into the water, and his horse, as he
thinketh, fell upon him, for he had a blow on his head. But, in the
\ AVO 7"E.S. Io9
mercy of God, is now well. . . . Capt. Hawthorne is now in New
Haven from the Baye.”
\
\
'. “NEw HAven, ye 20th of ye 5th, 1660.
“. . . . Brother Benham, indeed (whose good and sweete spirited
wife the ford hath taken from him since his return, and a young childe
of one of his sons, is since died in his house, where also one of his
wife lyeth very sick), he went to Hartford, but gave me no notice of
it before that I might prepare a letter from home. Brother Myles,
at his retum from the Baye, comforted us with hope of your recover-
ing strength, &c.”— ZXavenport to Winthrop, in Mass. Hist. Coll.
\
Mary, daughter of Thomas and Margery, married, September 27,
1664, James Robinson of Dorchester. Their son, Rev. John Robin-
son of Duxbury, was the father of Faith, who married Jonathan
Trumbull, first governor of Connecticut, and was the mother of a
distinguished family.
Philip, brother of Mary, married, December 5, 1672, Elizabeth, the
daughter of the wife of Thomas Mitchell, one of the original planters
of New Haven, and signer of the plantation covenant. He inherited
Mitchell's homestead, situated on George Street. Atwater, in his
History of New Haven Colony, says: “Quinnipiac had a larger
number of wealthy men than any other of the New England colo-
nies.” And Mann, in his Annals of Dedham, says: “The found-
ers of Dedham were a choice few among the number of those who
fled from a religious persecution in their own land, and sought in
this western clime a place of refuge, where they could worship their
I IO AVE W COMAWAEC 77CU7. /
/
God in a manner most congenial to their feelings. A large portion
of them who came here were those who had been well educated in the
}
old country, and some of them were noted in the annals of literature
in the European world.” |
ſ
NOTE 4, page II.
“John Alcock, son of John and grandson of Philip, was born in
New Haven, where his father resided at that time, January 14, 1705.
He married Deborah, daughter of Isaac Blakeslee, of North Haven,
on the twenty-fourth anniversary of his birth, and settled on Špindle
Hill in the spring of 1731, on a farm of one hundred and seventeen and
a half acres of land, which he had purchased of Deacon Josiah Rogers
of Branford. He continued to add to his landed estate until he was
the possessor of about one thousand acres. He purchased more than
twelve hundred acres, but had given some to his children previous to
the later purchases. He gave to each of five or six children a farm
of about one hundred acres in the immediate vicinity of his home,
retaining his homestead for himself as long as he lived. He was a
man of much energy and endurance, for without those qualities no
man would or could have accomplished what he did in a wilderness
country in the short space of forty-seven years. When he made his
residence on this farm, coming up from Waterbury, he passed a little
beyond the bounds of civilization into the territory of panthers, bears,
wildcats, and immense forests. Here he built his log house, and
introduced his bride of fifteen months, as queen of the realm, to the
privation and severe toil which the circumstances must have imposed

N AVO 7"E.S. III
in follºwing years. Before his strong arm the wilderness gave way,
and in a few years neighbors were on every side. Prosperity was his
lot until his acres numbered a thousand, and his sons and daughters
3. dozen, and his log house, being too frail, gave place to the more
comfortable frame one. He was a man of public spirit, serving the
town of Waterbury in different capacities, but especially as surveyor
of lands and highways, the old records now showing his name con-
nected with much work of this kind. His name is not prominent
in the doings of the Ecclesiastical Society, for he was sixty-six
years of age, and had performed a large amount of hard labor, and
was very properly allowed to rest on the retired list of prominent
men of the community. He lived to see his children comfortably
settled near him, and some of them highly honored as public citi-
zens.” (Both himself and wife were among the first members of
the church.) — Orcutt’s History of Wolcott.
NOTE 5, page II.
Captain John Alcock, oldest son of John, of Spindle Hill, married,
August 28, 1755, Mary Chatfield, daughter of Solomon Chatfield, of
Derby, Conn. She was the grandchild of Rev. Abraham Pierson,
first President of Yale College from 1701 to 1707.
Captain Alcock held his commission from his kinsman, Governor
Trumbull, dated May 14, 1774, for the Winter Parish of Farming-
bury trainband. Three of his sons served in the army of the
Revolution, John, Jr., receiving a pension. He and his wife were
~ members of the First Church in Farmingbury Winter Parish, their
II 2 AVAE W COAVAWEC 7/CU 7. /
names being subscribed to the church covenant December 18,
I773. ſ
At the time of his marriage the country was a wilderness along
the Naugatuck to Derby Landing (fifteen miles distant from Spindle
Hill), which was then a flourishing trading-place and fishery, situated
at the junction of the Naugatuck with the Housatonic. The road
along the side of the former was a narrow pathway cut into the banks
through a deep gorge, with steep precipices on both sides, clothed
with hemlocks, and tall chestnuts crowning the summits. The road,
built thus on the bank of the river, was called the Dug Road, and in
places was overshadowed by hemlocks and ivy, darkening the scene
and giving it a romantic interest. It was along this road, the only
one at the time, that the pair, mounted in the saddle, rode through the
defile across Buck's Hill, lying south of Spindle Hill, to the new
mansion, just built near his father's, situated at the base of New
Connecticut. There his grandson, Amos Bronson Alcott, was born,
November 29, 1799.
The name Alcocke has undergone the successive changes from the
original, of Allcock, Alcock, Alcox, Allcott, Alcott, — the present
Ila Iſle.
NoTE 6, page 12.
Flax was cultivated by the farmers as generally as were oats and
rye. Pulling flax was an employment in which the women often
took part with the men. The linen manufacture was an important
thing in every household, the families being clothed throughout in
AVO ZZ.S. II.3
homespun, either of flax or wool. I may say that I wore no other
than homespun till nearly grown, and used to hand the warping
threads for the reed to my mother, weaving the web in her loom.
\ My sisters were spinners, both of wool and flax, which were some-
\
times carded by hand and prepared for spinning and weaving. The
“rolls ” were spun into threads, then run upon spools by the “quill
wheel and blades,” and thus made ready for the shuttle. When
woven, the linens were spread on the grass for whitening, and were
sprinkled at intervals on sunny days from the spouts of watering-pots.
Dressing the flax, like threshing, was the winter's task, along with
chopping and storing the year's supply of wood for fuel.
After the carding-machine near the Great Falls was in operation,
bolsters of wool were strapped to the saddles, and thus taken there
to be carded into rolls.
Atwater says: “New Haven had in its Yorkshire families special
skill in the manufacture of cloth. This industry, so far at least
as spinning is concerned, spread throughout the whole community.
Every farmer raised flax, which his wife caused to be wrought into
linen; and wherever sheep were kept, wool was spun into yarn for
the knitting-needles and the loom. A young woman who could spin
between sunrise and sunset more than thirty knots of warp or forty
of filling was in high estimation among Sagacious neighbors having
marriageable sons. The music of the spinning-wheel was frequently
accompanied with singing.”
It is useless to sigh over the poetry of those lost times, now made
prose in the whirl of factory spindles.
II4 AVE W COMAWAEC 7/CU7.
“Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound;
All at her work the village maiden sings,
Nor, while she turns her giddy wheel around,
Revolves the sad vicissitude of things.”
NoTE 7, page 13. /
The first minister was the Rev. Alexander Gillet, who was sic.
ceeded by the Rev. Israel Beard Woodward, a native of Watertown,
Conn. He was much beloved by his people, and his sudden death
in 1810 was much lamented. As was customary, the ministers in
those days received pupils into their families to be prepared for col-
lege. Mr. Woodward was a graduate of Yale, and a good scholar,
who drew to his home pupils from different parts of the country.
Percival the poet, and a youth from Norfolk, Virginia, who became
distinguished in his State (William Maxwell), were students of his.
The latter, in a poem entitled “Wolcott,” laments the death of his
preceptor, and draws a pleasing picture of his character, and the
scenery and manners of his people. I quote some of its lines.
“High on a mountain all unknown to fame,
Though graced with Wolcott's venerable name,
The village bloomed in her serene retreat,
And smiled to see the clouds beneath her feet.
Such scenes of old the saintly hermit sought,
Retreat for penitence and pious thought,
Where truth might love to breathe a parting sigh,
And hope a shorter passage to the sky.
AVO 7TES. II.5
Mild were the virtues of the village train,
The rural virgin and the faithful swain,
Hid from the world, unconscious of its arts,
While peace and innocence possessed their hearts.
Virtue beheld them with approving eye,
And Vice confessed her homage with a sigh.
There Woodward reigned the genius of the place,
t he friend and guardian of the simple race.
And well the pastor led his little flock
Through peaceful meadows to the gushing Rock;
Himself before, lest they should go astray,
His only care to help them on their way,
Fulfil his office, and approve his love
To the great Shepherd of the fold above.
“”T was on a hill just rescued from the wood,
The preacher's hospitable mansion stood,
Where oft the taper with inviting ray
Allured the stranger from his weary way,
And oft the cheerful table spread its best
To win the smile of some unbidden guest.
Beside the fence bloomed many a graceful vine,
The blushing rose and sweeter eglantine.
Before the door the greensward, trim and gay,
Enticed the lamb and little child to play.
AVAE W COMAWAEC 7/CU 7.
Spring set her flowers too beautiful to last,
And winter nipped them with unwilling blast.
“Here let me pause upon the mountain's brow,
(Where oft the Muses listen to my vow,)
And view with eyes that fondly overflow
The various beauties of the scene below :
Towns, mountains, villages, in fair display,
All softened by the sun's descending ray;
Thy steeple, Southington, that high in air
Invites the rustic to the house of prayer;
And spread around it many a smiling plain,
Waving with harvests of the golden grain;
The farmer's mansion, fair in modest pride,
With barns of plenty rising at its side;
Bright running streams that shine between the hills,
While fancy hears the music of their rills;
And, far retreating into fading blue,
Old Carmel's mountain closing in the view.
“Fair was the scene when Sunday's Smiling day
Called the good villagers to praise and pray;
When up the hill in order they repair,
To join their pastor in the house of prayer.
The proper matron in her russet best,
Her little infant smiling at her breast,
AVO 7TES. - 117
The blooming maid (her eyes are raised above,
Her bosom sighs, but not with earthly love),
The swain, unconscious of his resting plough,
And free to seek a nobler service now,
Forget alike their labors and their sports;
They meet their Maker in his earthly courts.
Away with earth! I see the preacher rise;
- And hark, he speaks!— a message from the skies. .
No poor ambition, void of grace or sense,
Betrays his tongue to gaudy eloquence ;
He scorns the tricks of vain theatric art,
That catch the eye but cannot reach the heart.
Warm, but yet prudent in his tempered zeal,
He feels himself, and makes his hearers feel.
How sweet the accents of that silver tongue,
That wins the old and fascinates the young !
The scoffer hears at last, and, undeceived,
Wonders to find how much he had believed.
E’en children listen to the simple style,
And half divine the doctrine by his smile.”
The meeting-house stood on the north side of the Green, facing
the Green and the south. It stood on the line that divided the
towns from which the parish was formed, -— half in Waterbury and
half in Farmington. It was a plain building without a steeple. The
pews below were old-fashioned box or square pews, numbered on
II.8 AVEW COAWAVEC 7/CO Z.
the doors, and the seating of the members was according to their
age, the elderly nearest the pulpit. The pulpit stood on the north
side, opposite the front door, with a double window in the rear
above it, and there was a door in each end of the church, east and /
west. The aisles leading from these were swept and sanded. The A
pulpit was very high, as was the custom in those days, and beneath
it, extending in front, were the seats for the deacons. The front
galleries extended around three sides, with raised seats behind, and
at the south end, between the stairways, were high seats for the
young people who preferred them. When the house was raised, it
is said that all the inhabitants of the parish could sit on the sills.
The body of the house was painted white and the roof red. This
ancient building was some years since destroyed by fire. A smaller
one now stands on the spot. All Saints, the Episcopal Church,
built in 1832, stands on the south side of the Green.
NOTE 8, page 13.
Mr. Joseph Chatfield, the son of Captain John Alcock, married,
October 13, 1796, Anna, daughter of Captain Amos Bronson, of
Plymouth (formerly Northbury Parish in Waterbury). His home
was near his father's on Spindle Hill. His farm, of near a hundred
acres, included the summit of New Connecticut, the highest land in
that part of the State. It contained suitable portions of ploughland,
pasture, and woodland, and was watered by brooks having their
sources within its borders, one flowing southward into Lily Brook,
a tributary of Mad River, the other westward into Hancock's Brook.
AVO 7TES. I I9
The woodlands were choice possessions, and carefully preserved,
the decaying trees being culled out for firewood. The northern
summit of the hill was crowned with a stately growth of chestnuts,
with oaks interspersed. This was left standing, improving the sym-
\ metry of the grove. This wood still crowns the summit and shows
Y. advantage from all points of view. It was in the edge, near the
roadside running along the eastern slope, that a falling tree crushed
the body of the woodman.
The recent market for fuel in the factories on the Naugatuck has
tempted the owners of wood-lots to supply the demand ; and Spin-
dle Hill, instead of the busy hive of industry it was at the opening
of this century, fruitful in fields of grain and dotted with orchards,
has now become almost one spacious forest, the wood being the
most productive crop the owners can grow for the market.
From the dwelling-house standing at the foot of the hill might be
seen, southwards, Potucko's Ring, so called from an Indian chief
who, having laid a ring of brushwood for catching game, and set it
on fire, was himself caught within the enclosure and burnt. This
tract of woodland was included within the territory purchased by
John Alcock, the first settler on Spindle Hill, as were the mill-seats
at the Great Falls on Mad River.
NOTE 9, page 18.
Captain Amos Bronson married Anna Blakeslee, of Plymouth,
Conn. His home was at Mount Jericho, on the Naugatuck, about
four miles west of Spindle Hill. A venerable man, of strong
I 2 O AVE W COMAVEC 77CO/7.
features and frank manners, as I remember him. He was a stanch
Churchman, having embraced Episcopacy after his marriage, edu-
cated his family in that faith, and was a leading man in es-
tablishing the Episcopal Church at Plymouth. He named his
eldest son Tillotson, after the distinguished English divine of that ,
name. His second son, Noah Miles, was a man of strong mind,
enterprising, and of a public spirit. He built the turnpike yoad
along the banks of the Naugatuck to Salem Bridge in Water-
bury, connecting there with the turnpike road to New/ Haven,
and with the road to Derby Landing. The building of this road
through its length was thought an undertaking of no ordinary kind
in those days. It was not completed till 1802. Before this time, in
passing from Jericho to Waterbury, after the Revolution, one was
obliged to ford the stream five or six times, and remove from twenty-
five to thirty sets of bars. It was through these fords and bars that
the adventurous mother rode on her way to New Haven, twenty-five
miles distant, and paid her son Tillotson's tuition bills. He fitted
for college with Rev. Dr. Trumbull, of Watertown. He graduated
at Yale in 1786. -
In an address delivered at Thomastown by Dr. Woodruff, at the
celebration of the 4th of July, 1876, he gave a minute description of
the manners, customs, and pursuits of the early settlers in that region.
Thomastown, named Church Hollow at the time of its settlement,
lies about two miles north of Mount Jericho, and about five miles
north of Spindle Hill. It was to this church at the Hollow

that Captain Bronson, with his family, used to ride and conduct
AVO 7TES. I2 I
the services on Sundays in the manner described. He was a
leading churchman and a prominent man in the affairs of the
town. The sketch by Dr. Woodruff follows: —
“The first settlers of Northbury were self-reliant, a robust and
hardy race, who worked and won a living from the rocky, rugged
soil. Their first labor was to build log-cabins, which were hospi-
table, if rude, and capable of accommodating all friends who might
visit them. These cabins were built near springs or running water,
the low lands being also valued for the forage they furnished the
cattle. The agricultural was the central interest, and even the min-
ister tilled the land allotted him to eke out his small salary with the
rude and simple implements of labor. Exchanges of labor were in
the products of the land, so many bushels of wheat, rye, or corn
being equivalent to so many days’ labor. The shoemaker and tailor
made their annual tour through the families of the neighborhood,
clothing and shoeing them while they received their support. Wool-
len and linen were the staples for clothing, cotton and calico being
too costly to be worn except on great occasions. These were pro-
cured from their own flocks and hillsides, and were made into home-
spun on the loom, which occupied one room of the house, with its
rough-hewn, solid timbers, mingling its constant thwack with the
milder notes of the spinning-wheel day after day, — the organ and
piano of homespun. The cloth made was so thoroughly beaten up
that it resisted the rigors of the Arctic winter, and almost defied the
Indian arrow and musket shot. The linen was spread in long pieces
on the grass, and whitened by the constant application of water from
I22 AVE W COAVAWEC 7/CUT.
a watering-pot in the hands of a buxom daughter of the household,
who thus provided the Sunday linen and her own wedding outfit.
The living was simple and nutritious. The year's supply of meat
was laid up in the cellar at the annual slaughter. Bread was made 2
from buckwheat, rye, or corn, which the land supplied; and as
wheat soon became an unprofitable crop, it was rarely used, and in
limited quantities. From four to six barrels of wheat flour was the
annual demand from a merchant in fair trade, those who purchased it
being looked upon as living extravagantly and luxuriously. Cider
was the beginning, the middle, and the ending of hospitality,
most of the autumn being consumed in making it, and a large
share of the winter in drinking it. Strong liquor was used on all
occasions, and under the most shadowy excuses, – at weddings,
funerals, ordinations, and raisings; the largest items in the bills for
such occasions being for what were called ‘wet goods.’
“Life was isolated outside of the principal towns a hundred years
ago, the house and home of the average family being measurably
shut in to itself, which required more completeness and indepen-
dence about the home than now, and centred life about it and not in
society, which made the simple home very picturesque. The frame
houses which succeeded the log-cabin were built for use, and so sub-
stantially that some of their large timbers were sound when a century
old. The house was generally square, with a massive chimney in
its centre. The interior of the house was panelled, not plastered,
and the great oak beams crossed the ceiling in plain sight. A great
open wood-fire blazed up the throat of the spacious chimney, for
AVO ZTE.S. I 23
stoves were unknown. The cooking was done in tin kitchens, or
on turnspits, or in a long-handled frying-pan, or on hooks suspended
from the swinging crane, or in the great oven. The floor was bare,
save for a home-made rug or two of woollen rags. The tallow-
dipped candle shed a dim light at evening. The kitchen was a tidy,
cheery room, with a tall dresser and rows of plates and platters, and
a rack of spoons. A skillet and warming-pan hung near the fire,
and the one flatiron, teapot, and various other articles hung on pins
Or spikes driven into the chimney; articles of clothing decorated the
poles overhead ; the trusty queen’s arm hanging from the side of a
beam. Over all presided the mistress of the house, clad in short-
gown and petticoat, with a cap-border half concealing her kindly
face, the brightest memory of the family group. In the evening all
gather around the big fireplace, the father and hired man talking
of farm matters, while the mother mends the rents, and the children
con the next day's lessons by the firelight. Neighbors drop in as
the evening advances, and then nuts, apples, and the mug of cider
are brought out, and the struggle of the colonies with the mother
country is discussed in its different phases. Still later, the merry
young folks drop in from their ride, and, as the tall clock in the
corner ticks towards nine, the last Sabbath's sermon is discussed, and
at nine the evening is closed with a prayer for divine guidance.1
“The American people were a religious people, and, while all
sects had a foothold in the country, the Congregationalists predomi-
1 “Half or two thirds of the inhabitants in New England sleep in the present
time without locking or barring the doors.” – Dr. Dzwight’s Zºravels, 1821.
I 24 AVE W COAVAVAEC 7/CU 7.
nated in New England. Its patriot pulpit wielded a powerful
influence in moulding the character which wrought out the success-
ful result of the Revolution. It was the centre of intellectual influ-
ence, moulding the soldier and statesman with its instruction. Living
among farmers, remote from towns, where literature would naturally
be neglected and corrupted, in advance of the schoolmaster and
school, the minister was the college in embryo. He combated vice,
and was the companion and guide to genius and virtue, and his
presence and talents inspired the great men of the State. ...'
“The meeting-house was usually situated on a high hill, between
two or three valleys; plain and cubical in shape, with galleries
inside, and surmounted by a tower or steeple. The pulpit was lofty,
reserved, and imposing, over which hung an august wooden canopy,
the sounding-board. Just in front of and beneath the pulpit was
the deacons’ seat, where those worthies reposed and received the
more perpendicular droppings of the Word. The pews were square
boxes, close-doored, high-walled, and railed around the top, where
the people were impounded, half of them with their backs to the
preacher. The seating of the meeting-house was a matter of much
delicacy, and was done by a committee, who ‘dignifyed the seats.
The only heat came from foot-stoves, filled at adjoining houses ;
and, while the cold blasts of open ventilation chilled the people,
they.patiently listened to the minister as he preached in great-coat
and mittens or gloves. The choir was ranged around the front seats
of the gallery, with the pitch-pipe in the centre. The bass-viol was
not then introduced, and the organ was looked upon as a device of
AVO 7TE.S. I 25
the great adversary. The hymn was lined out by the deacon, and
the hymn-book was only introduced after great opposition.
“Besides the homespun clothing, a leather apron was a common
article of apparel, and was sometimes seen in the meeting-house when
new and clean. The young folks went to meeting barefoot, or carried
their shoes and stockings in their hands, and slipped them on in some
sly corner when almost there. The Sabba' day house supplied the
comfort lacking in the meeting-house. It was a family affair, usually
comprising but a single room, perhaps fifteen feet square, with win-
dows and a fireplace. It was plainly furnished with chairs for the
old folks and benches for the children, with a table in the centre on
which lay a Bible and a few religious books, while shelves at the
side contained dishes for cooking and eating. Sometimes the house
was mounted over a shed in which the horse was sheltered. A
group of such cabins standing about the meeting-house added much
to the picturesqueness of the spot, and added to the comfort of Sab-
bath worship in winter. The family able to keep a Sabba' day
house rode directly there Sabbath morning, and warmed themselves
within and without, dispelling the frost of the church with another
thaw at intermission, when they paid a wholesome regard to the
wants of the inner man.
“The schoolhouse was usually perched at the bleak angle of the
cross-roads, with its outside littered with remnants of last year's
wood, and policed by the neighbors' cattle and swine. Inside a row
of desks surrounded the room, blotted with ink and marked with
the jack-knife. The inner row of seats for the younger pupils was
126 AEW CONNECTICUz.
made from the smooth side of a slab erected on four stout legs set in
auger-holes, and was so high that little folks could hardly touch
their toes to the floor. Almost all one side of the room was taken
up with the yawning fireplace, holding the best part of a cord of
wood, but whose roaring flames made little impression on the more
remote side of the apartment, which was well ventilated by innumer-
able cracks and crannies. The teacher was a man of authority and
admitted receptacle of all valuable knowledge; he was revered
accordingly, and his patient labors had no small share in the prog-
ress of the people. His simple and primitive university graduated
men who have filled the country with glory and renown. .
“The fathers rode on horseback, with their wives and children on
a pillion behind, the aged and feeble having the privilege of riding
in the cart. The first wagon was as much a curiosity as the first
locomotive at a later day; it was made with wheels of equal diam-
eter, and framed like a cart, and had no springs. Domestic indus-
tries supplied amusements. The husking bee, the quilting bee, and
the apple-paring brought the young people together, and a raising
gave all the men in the neighborhood a half holiday. There were
foot and horseback excursions after the haying, and the evening
singing-school for the practice of sacred music. Marriages were
commonly contracted at a much earlier period than now, the theory
being that wives were not to help their husbands spend a living, but
earn one. Children had a somewhat different place in the old
social economy; they did their share of domestic work; found their
recreation in sports of a very rude description ; looked up to instead
AVO ZTE.S. 12:
of down upon their parents, and stood in wholesome awe of domestic
law and authority. A visit from the minister meant a dreaded cate-
chetical exercise, and on the Sabbath their natural activities were
sternly repressed. The exercise in the catechism on Saturday was
the most dreaded and shirked by the children of any in the week.
The Sabbath began at Sundown Saturday, and was rigidly observed.
All who could were expected to attend public worship ; and there
º, was no strolling in the fields, and no riding or travelling, except of
necessity. Their reading was the Bible, as books were few and
religious newspapers had not been discovered. It is customary in
some quarters to speak lightly of the fathers, but there is something
magnificent in their stern, practical fidelity to their principles. What
we are they have made us; and when we have done better for the
ages that come after us, we shall have a more certain right to blame
their austerities.”
NOTE Io, page 21.
Before Webster's school-books appeared, Dilworth’s “New Guide
to the English Tongue,” Fisher’s “Instructor, or Young Man's
Best Companion,” with the New Testament, were the chief books
used in the colonies. The first edition of Webster's spelling-book
appeared in 1783. It was published at Hartford by Hudson and
Goodwin. Many millions of copies of this book have been sold and
used in schools, and it is still used in some portions of the United
States as a school-book. . . . .
“Noah Webster,” says Duyckinck in his Cyclopædia of American
I 28 AVAE W COAVAVAEC 7/CO/7.
Literature, “had tact in discerning the wants of the country in his
day, and providing for them in his spelling-book. He simplified
knowledge and made it easy of acquisition, arranging the words of
his spelling-book in ready forms to catch the eye and linger in the
memory, while he added brief lessons in definitions and geograph-
ical and other terms, intermingling those homely and ready lessons
of fables and proverbs, which were not at all blunted in their way to
the conscience by woodcuts such as the art in the country then º'
afforded. There have been few moral lessons productive of the
same effect in the country as the famous old fable of the “Boy that
stole Apples,’ and who sits, in the old woodcut, alarmingly exposed
astride of a branch of a tree, almost naked of foliage, while the
farmer, in small-clothes, one arm akimbo, the other in a most striking
attitude, takes aim at the ‘young sauce-box.’ Many an honest fellow
through the world has had his sense of duty painfully strengthened by
the moral of that fable. Then there is that forsaken ‘Country Maid
and her Milkpail,’ teaching the double lesson of the vanity of human
expectations and the folly of unnecessary grief: that chickens are
not to be counted before they are hatched, or milk to be wept over
after it is spilt. The story, too, of the “Boy that went to the Wood to
look for Bird's-nests when he should have gone to School,’ and the
descriptions of a good boy and of a bad boy, not forgetting the won-
derful table of ‘Proverbs, Counsels, and Maxims,’ all in words of
one syllable, taxing the wisdom of nations and the strong old Saxon
power of the English language; all sound lessons, calculated to
make honest men and ingenious Benjamin Franklins.”
AVO 7TA.S. I 29
NOTE II, page 23.
Dr. William A. Alcott gave the following account of this school
on Spindle Hill, in “The Annals of Education ” for October and
November, 1831 : — -º-
“The schoolhouse stood near the centre of the district, at the
junction of four roads. The spot was peculiarly exposed to the
bleak winds of winter; nor were there any shade trees near, to
shelter the children from the scorching rays of the summer's Sun
during their recreations.
“The size of the building was twenty-two feet long by twenty
broad. From the floor to the ceiling it was seven feet. The chim-
ney and entry took up about four feet at one end, leaving the school-
room itself twenty feet by eighteen. Around three sides of the room
were connected desks, arranged so that when the pupils were sitting
at them their faces were towards the instructor and their backs
towards the wall. Attached to the sides of the desks nearest to the
instructor were benches for small pupils. The instructor's desk and
chair occupied the centre. On this desk was stationed a rod or
ferule; sometimes both. These, with books, writings, inkstands,
rules, and plummets, with a fire-shovel and a pair of tongs, were
the principal furniture.
“The windows were five in number, of twelve panes each. The
entry was four feet square. A depression in the chimney on one
side of the entry furnished a place of deposit for the hats and spare
I3O AVAE W COA/AWAEC 77CO/7.
clothes of the boys. The girls generally carried their bonnets, etc.,
into the schoolroom. The ceiling and walls were plastered. The
room was warmed by a large and deep fireplace. In severe weather
it was estimated that the amount usually consumed was not far
from a cord of wood a week. The wood was left in the road
near the house, so that it was often buried in the snow or wet
with the rain. At the best it was always burnt green. The
ventilation of the schoolroom was as much neglected as its tem-
perature; and its cleanliness more than either. In summer the
floor was washed once in two or three weeks.
“The winter school usually opened about the first of Decem-
ber, and continued from twelve to sixteen weeks. The summer
school commenced about the first of May. Men were uniformly
employed in winter and women in summer. A strong prejudice
existed against employing the same instructor more than once or
twice in the same district.
“Good moral character and a thorough knowledge of the com-
mon branches were considered as indispensable qualifications in an
instructor. They were chiefly selected from the most respectable
families in town. In general, the candidate was some favorite or
relative of the district committee, and the moral character of almost
every instructor was unexceptionable.
“Instructors usually boarded in the families of the pupils. Their
compensation varied from seven to eleven dollars a month for
men, and from sixty-two and a half cents to one dollar a week
for women.
AVO 7TES. I3 I
“Two of the board of visitors usually visited the winter schools
twice during the term. In the summer their visits were often omit-
ted. These visits usually occupied from one hour to an hour and
a half. They were spent in hearing a few hurried lessons, and in
making some remarks, general in their character. Writing and
spelling were leading studies every day, and on Saturday the Old
Assembly Catechism, in the Congregational order and the Episco-
pal order, were regularly repeated. Webster's Spelling-Book, the
American Preceptor, and the New Testament were the principal
books used. Arithmetic was taught by a few instructors one or
two evenings in a week.
“In teaching the alphabet it was customary for the instructor to
take his seat, and point to the letters precisely in the order in which
they are placed in the book, A, B, C, &c. If the pupil could name
the letter immediately, it was well ; if not, he was told it. After
going through from A to Z, the double letters were also taught.
Sometimes the process was inverted ; beginning at the bottom, and
ending at A.
“To teach spelling, a lesson was assigned, consisting of a certain
number of columns of words arranged in alphabetical order, as the
words of our spelling-books usually are, which the pupil W2.S
requested to study over and over, until he could recollect and spell
them from memory. In this manner one word suggested, by asso-
ciation, the next ; the second, the third ; and so on. No faculty
was called into exercise but the memory. If a word was mis-
spelled, the next pupil who could spell it was allowed to take his
I32 AVE W COMAWECTICUT:
place, or “go above him,” as it was called. He who was at the
head of the class at evening had a credit mark, and sometimes a
written certificate of good scholarship.
“In teaching reading, the process was equally mechanical. The
instructor generally read the first verse or paragraph, and sometimes
read with them in his turn. The instructor, or the pupil at the
head, made the corrections. These extended no farther than the
right pronunciation of the words, and a measured attention to
the pauses. “Read as you talk,” was a rule seldom given, and still
less frequently reduced to practice. It was customary to read the
Testament and Preceptor (the principal reading-books), generally in
course. There were, however, certain days of the week on which.
selected pieces were read. These consisted of an oration, and per-
haps a dialogue, with some of the more difficult poetry. When
visitors called, they were commonly required to read these selections,
which they had learned almost by heart.
“New beginners in writing usually had a copy of straight marks.
Over the top of the next page the master wrote Avoid alluring come-
Žany, in large hand, which the pupil was required to imitate. A
page a day, that is, one eighth of a common sheet of foolscap paper,
was their task in writing. The pupils' copies were usually in alpha-
betical order, and, during the first year, almost wholly of coarse
hand, ruled (for all were required to rule) from one fourth to half an
inch wide. Engraved copy-slips, instead of written ones, were some-
times used.
“When Arithmetic was taught in the evenings, the instructor
AVO 7'E.S. I33
usually wrote sums for the pupil on a slate, which he was required
to work. Daboll's Arithmetics were used as guides.
“The order of exercises for a day was usually as follows: From
nine o’clock A. M. to fifteen minutes past nine, the instructor came
to the door with a large ferule, and struck several times on the
doorpost as a signal for opening the school. Such pupils as were
present came in, and either took their seats or crowded around the
fire. Those of the first class who were present read in the Testa-
ment. The lesson consisted of from two to four chapters, according
to their length. The time usually allotted to this exercise was from
twenty to thirty minutes, or until most of the pupils had arrived.
“When this exercise closed, writing was attended to. In the win-
ter copies and pens were to be prepared, ink to be thawed and
watered, and numbers wished to go to the fire at once. In the
midst of all this the second class usually took their Testament for
reading. While the second and third classes were reading, the
instructor usually finished copies and pens, and assigned the spelling
lessons for the forenoon. Then the smaller classes were to be
taught. Those who were able read a few sentences of some of the
easy lessons in the spelling-book, while others merely read over the
words of the spelling lesson.
“At about half past ten the welcome sound ‘You may go out,’
was heard. Every one made his long ‘obeisance,’ and was imme-
diately in the street; but in from five to ten minutes the loud rap
brought them to the place of obeisance, and ultimately to their seats
again. The two sexes went out separately.
I34 AVE W COMAWAEC 77CO/7.
“The rest of the forenoon was spent chiefly in spelling. The
school closed at twelve o’clock. At the usual signal, ‘School’s
dismissed,’ a scene of confusion commenced. But at all other
times they usually went out in good order.
“There was a large pond about a quarter of a mile from the school-
house. In the winter this was the favorite resort of the boys. Time
passed so Swiftly that they were often too late at the school, and
were reprimanded, sometimes feruled or flogged. The rap on the
door summoned them at one. The American Preceptor was then
read for nearly half an hour by the first class, and about a quarter
of an hour by the second. Writing went on again, simultaneously
with the reading of the second and smaller classes.
“When the course of lessons was finished, a short recess was
allowed, as in the forenoon. On coming in from recess or inter-
mission, it was customary to have a pail of water and cup stand by
the door. It was rarely ‘handed around,’ but every one helped him-
self. On coming in from the afternoon recess, the classes were all
exercised in their spelling lessons again, beginning with the young-
est. After spelling, the pauses, abbreviations, numeral letters, &c.,
were recited. In addition to these, the instructor usually had a
set of written questions, embracing the time when many remarkable
events happened, the various currencies, tables of distance, weight,
measure, &c. The first class, and sometimes the second, were
required to answer these daily until they were perfectly familiar.
The older classes were required to commit the Introduction to the
Spelling-Book to memory.
AVO 7TE.S. I 35
“A table of words spelled differently, but pronounced alike, was
usually a favorite table with most instructors. It consisted of four
pages of the Spelling-Book. It was usually studied until many of
the pupils could repeat it from beginning to end. But I never knew
any teacher require his pupils to apply it.
“The exercises of the day were usually closed by calling the roll or
catalogue of pupils, by announcing the name of the scholar whose
turn it was to make the fire next morning ; and by giving positive
orders for every pupil to “go straight home, and be civil to every-
body he might meet with.” Once a week the writers were required
to write each a line for examination. They were then numbered
according to their excellence. He whose line was No. I was allowed
to have the first choice among the seats; No. 2 the second, and so
on. About once a week they were also allowed to choose sides for
spelling, which usually took up about half of the afternoon. The
side or party who misspelled the smallest number of words was
declared to have beat ; and they usually manifested much triumph.
“Dialogues, too, were sometimes committed to memory, and
repeated.
“This school was equal, if not superior, to the average of the
schools in that part of the country.
“In 1801, the people paid at least one half of the compensation of
the instructor, by a tax upon themselves proportioned to the number
of pupils furnished by each. But for the last ten years the public
fund has paid about nine tenths of the expense.”
I36 AVAE W COAVAWEC 7/CUT,
NOTE I2, page 24.
THE WOLCOTT DIALECT.
Afore.
All-fired.
Amost, e'en-2-most.
Aant.
Ary, nary.
Astware, for as it were.
Ax, for ask.
Baint, for be not.
Bile, for boil.
Bime-by.
Blazes, like blazes.
Bobbery, kick up a bobbery.
Bran new.
Bunk.
Bunt.
Buss.
Calkerlate.
Chap.
Chaw.
Chirk.
Chock-full.
Chore.
Clever, for kindly.
Clost, for close.
Clout.
Codger.
Courtin.
Cowlick.
Cross-patch.
Cud, for quid.
Cuss.
Cute.
Cut out.
Daater, for daughter.
Daddy.
Darnd, darn it.
Desput, for desperate.
Dreffle, for dreadful.
Drought.
Drownded.
Expect, for suspect.
Fire, to fire a stone.
Fix it.
Flop.
AVO 7"E.S.
I37
Folks.
Foxed boots.
Froe, a tool for rending timber.
Full chisel, go fast or swift.
Furder, for further.
Fust-rate.
Gab.
Gal, gal-boy.
Gallowses, for suspenders.
Gambrel.
Give the mitten.
Gownd, for gown.
Guess.
Gump, a silly fellow.
Haint.
Heft.
Hern, hisen.
Het, for heated.
Hoity-toity.
Hook, on one's own account.
Housen.
Hove.
Hum, for home.
Humly, a humly fellow.
Hunk.
Jaw, hold your jaw.
Jerk.
Reel over, turn a somersault.
Reep company with.
Kind'er, for likeness.
Kiver, for cover.
Laze about.
Leanter, lanky.
Likely, a likely fellow.
Links, sausages.
Lit.
Logy.
Lope, laze about.
Mammy, for mamma.
Medder, for meadow.
Meechen, downcast.
Mile, for miles.
Miss, for Mrs.
Nimshi, a foolish fellow.
No odds.
Not by a jug full.
Notions, chores.
Nohow.
Nowheres.
Nubbins.
Nurly.
Ollers, for always.
I38 AVAE W COAVAWEC 77CO/7.
On'y, for only.
Ought ter.
Ourn, for ours.
Pappa, for papa.
Partly opposite.
Perk up.
Pimping.
Plaguy.
Pokerish.
Polt, a blow on the head.
Proxing.
Pung.
Puttering about.
Puzzle.
Quilting match.
Rave, if angered.
Raound, for round.
Reckon.
Right away, soon.
Rile, for roil.
Rowen.
Rugged, hardy, robust.
Sabba' day.
Sag.
Samp.
Saphead.
Sartin.
Sass, for garden vegetables.
Saaser, for saucer.
Scraunch.
Scrimp.
Set by, prized.
Shack, a ragged beggar.
Shet, for shut. -
Slick, for sleek.
Slobber.
Slosh.
Slump.
Snicker.
Snore, I snore, I swow, I vum.
Sozzle.
Spry.
Sqush.
Stun, for stone.
Tag.
Taint, for it is not.
Taters,
Teeter, see-saw.
Telled, for told.
Tend, for attend.
That are, for a particular thing.
To get round one.
AVO 7'E.S.
I39
Tolable, for tolerable.
To rights, immediately.
Whaling, for a beating.
Whop, whop over.
Towzle. Yander, for yonder.
Truck, trade. Yank.
Tussle. Yerk.
Wabble. Yourn, for yours.
NOTE I3, page 25.
At this total eclipse of 1806, the line of total darkness passed
through Massachusetts and Connecticut, and the centre of darkness
passed across Litchfield, lying in sight over the hills west of the
Naugatuck. The day was clear and bright till the darkness came
on. Smoked glass was used by thousands of eyes as the dark
shadow of the moon began to cross over the sun's disk. When
only a crescent form was to be seen, the reflection of this was cast
upon the leaves of the trees. As the sun became more and more
obscured, the crescent became thinner and thinner, until it was a mere
thread of light in the shadow of the leaves. Suddenly it faded en-
tirely away, and the sun was extinguished in its meridian path.
There it hung in the sky, a round funereal patch, rayless and cold.
The dews descended as if it were evening twilight; the fowls
sought their roosts; the cattle turned their eyes wonderingly to the
expiring luminary; the air was dense and compressed; the smoke
rushed down the chimney flues; the darkness was like that of even-
ing twilight. In the afternoon the wind had risen boisterously, and
the weather was cold. It was followed by violent hail-storms in all
I4O AVE W COAWAVEC 77CUZ.
parts of New England. This was the greatest eclipse that had hap.
pened in New England for a hundred years. It began at Io.5 A.M.;
middle at II.23 A. M.; whole duration, two hours and forty-six
minutes.
NOTE I4, page 27.
Training-day was a great occasion. Every boy looked forward to
its coming with longing eyes. He then appeared in his best attire,
with spending-money in his pocket, wending his way at an early
hour to the Hill. There the military companies were already on
parade, dressed in regimentals (in blue coats with red facings, the
skirts doubled to a point, with their muskets scoured to a glittering
brightness), their cartridge-box strapped over their shoulders with
the bayonet; the hat with a feather red-tipped, and a plate in front
lettered with the name of the company, its number, and that of the
regiment to which it belonged. The officers were dressed in blue
and red, with cocked hats and lofty plumes of yellow and red; the
fifers and drummers in red coats and plumes, the colors flying above
them. The drill, with marchings and filings to and fro around the
Green, was followed by a dinner at the tavern. The pedlers' carts
were irresistible temptations; for a penny a roll of gingerbread was
to be had ; a card of ten rolls for fourpence-halfpenny. Sweet cider
was plenty in September ; raisins, always. In the evening a dance
came off at the ball-room, with plenty of sling to stimulate the mer-
riment. The girls were not less curious than the boys, and sure to
be at hand for the evening's frolic. Young men were enrolled at
AVO 7TES. I4 I
the age of eighteen. They were fined for non-appearance, and if
not equipped according to law.
Disinclined as I was to handle fire-arms, my drill was not of the
bravest bearing. The highest honor intended from my companions
in arms was to be chosen a corporal, when I addressed them from
the front, “Gentlemen Officers and Fellow-Soldiers,” on declining
the honor.
At the Centenary of the Congregational Church and Society of
Wolcott, held in September, 1873, Editor Cooke, of the “Water-
bury American,” gave an account of a general training or field day
at Wolcott, which he attended when a youngster : —
“The first time we ever saw Wolcott was at a general training
held there about 1803. The regiment at that time was commanded
by Colonel Streat Richards, who, by virtue of his office, ordered the
regiment to parade at Wolcott, — the only time that Wolcott was
honored by this distinction. The Colonel was then in his prime and
glory. He was a man of wit, of strong impulses, of a gay dis-
position, having that pride and ambition which constitute the essen-
tials of a military officer, but not averse to ‘fuss and feathers’ when
an opportunity offered for display. When well mounted upon his
charger, clad in the old colonial costume, or Revolutionary uniform,
with well-powdered wig, ruffles at his wrists, high-topped boots, three-
cornered plumed hat, à la mode the old régime of the Baron Steuben
school, he formed an imposing feature of the olden time. The Colonel
felt his station, and casually observed to a brother officer that “on
Sunday the Lord commanded ; but to-day, being Monday, was his
I42 AVE W COAVAVEC ZYCO/7.
day, - He was in command ; ' and the troops found it out during the
day. Waterbury being so near, the boys from eight to fifteen were
bound to attend ; and, as conveyances were scarce at that time, they
organized a company and resolved to foot it over the hills to the
town centre. Starting from home an hour or two before day, they
arrived there just as the sun gilded the eastern horizon, in time to see
the out-of-town companies enter the village, headed by martial music,
their colors flying. They were conducted by the adjutant to the
station for inspection. This occupied the forenoon till dinner-time,
which was taken under the shade trees on the Green, – the boys par-
ticipating in a shilling cut; after which the regiment took up the line
of march to an open field about a mile east of the Centre, where the
parade and review took place with all the pomp and circumstance
of the old-time general training. Wolcott bore off the palm, as she
always did, by her soldier-like bearing, neat and tidy uniforms, and
her splendid military band, - the nucleus of the celebrated brass
band still existing in spirit to the present time. The day was un-
usually fine, the display grand and without accident, an honor to
the town and its intelligent people, – the only drawback being for
those spectators condemned to foot their return after the fatigues
of the day.”
NOTE 15, page 28.
The mills at the Great Falls were the resort of the inhabitants
generally. Here were the grist and saw mills, the clothiers' works,
and, at the pond just below, the carding-machine. The spot was
AVO 7TAZ.S. I43
picturesque. Above, in the rocks, at some distant time, the water
had worn a circular cup, named Benson's Pot. The whole stream
poured down the precipice, turning the prodigious overshot wheel
which drove the gearings of the millstones within and the clothing
works below. The grist-mill, built against the ledge, was entered by
descending stairs into the upper story, thence by another flight into the
dusty apartment where the millstone whirled. The slowly revolving
cylinder bolted the grist by means of an ascending and descending
belt, with pockets revolving and emptying themselves into the long
trough underneath, to be shovelled thence into sacks suspended by
hooks at the apertures on the outside, – the flour and bran at dif-
ferent outlets. Descending still lower by a flight of steep, narrow
stairs, with slender rails for support, we came in sight of the wheel
and foaming current as it rushed through the sluice at the base of
the ledge. Here, on the opposite side of the stream, stood the
fulling-mill champing the cloth, the dye-pits, and along the banks
the long stretch of frame for extending the cloths to dry.
Then, at Sunset on Saturday nights, might be seen, during the
spring and Summer season, the boys from a long way off tramping
along the roads, with their linen coats on their arms, to the Pond
for their swimming frolic. A long frame, covered with plank and
extending over the depth, formed an admirable platform for the
divers. From this, following one another, sometimes by scores,
they plunged, emerging above the surface at long distances, till the
Pond was populous with heads. Many were the antics of the gay
Swimmers; all possible evolutions being performed, and a race some-
I44 AVE W COAVAVEC ZYCO/7.
times followed to the mills above. It was a salutary and charming
sport, and a becoming preparation for the morrow's services.
NOTE I6, page 29.
The fruitful orchards furnished a common drink. Every house-
holder in autumn laid in a supply for the season. Rows of barrels,
extended along his cellar, were filled with the liquor. Much of this
was drunk during the winter months; the tankard was offered to the
neighbor when he called ; and the bottle of cider was a constant
companion of the mower and reaper going into the fields in sum-
mer. Agreeing with the poet, the farmer questioned:—
— “Why reject
Our native liquor, while for us the mill
Still grinds choice apples, and the pomace vats
O'erflow with generous cider; cider smooth
Shall please all tastes and triumph o'er the vine.”
It was not until near the beginning of this century that distilleries
were known in these parts, and cider-brandy became a common
drink with any considerable number of the farmers. It was used
chiefly during the haying and harvesting. The excesses of some
soon led to measures for regulating its sale. The temperance move-
ment, begun by Dr. Beecher, then living at Litchfield, has since led
to a general discussion of the subject, and legislation is still active in
devising means for suppressing or regulating the sale.
AVO 7TES. I45
Amidst the distracting views and measures now current, it may be
instructive to listen to a word from Bishop Berkeley. Writing of
the state of England in 1740, he says: —
“The public virtue and spirit of the British legislature never
showed itself more conspicuous in any act than in that of suppress-
ing the immediate use of spirituous liquors among the people, whose
strength and numbers constitute the true wealth of a nation; though
evasive acts will, it is feared, prevail, so long as distilled spirits of
any kind are allowed, - the character of Englishmen in general
being like that of Brutus, Quicquid zult, zalde vult. But why should
such a canker be tolerated in the vitals of a state under any pre-
tence or in any shape whatever? Better by far the whole present
set of distillers were pensioners of the public and their trade abol-
ished by law, since the benefit thereof put together would not bal-
ance the hundredth part of the mischief. To prove the destructive
effects of such spirits, with regard both to the human species and
individuals, we need not go so far as our colonies, or the savage
nations of America. Plain proof may be had nearer home. For,
albeit there is in every town or district throughout England some
tough dram-drinker set up as a devil's decoy to draw proselytes, yet
the ruined health and morals, and the beggary of such numbers,
evidently show that we need no other enemy to complete our de-
struction than the cheap luxury at the lower end of the state, and
that a nation lighted up at both ends must soon be consumed.” —
Siris, pp. 50, 5 I.
146 AVE W COMAWEC TVCU 7.
NOTE 17, page 3o.
Doubtless Captain John Alcock's company contributed its privates
to serve under General Putnam, whose order he had received, Sep-
-> tember 5, 1774, to march immediately to Boston with his forces.
And ten days later he received from the colonel of his regiment
(Colonel Strong, of Farmington) an order to have them ready “for
marching at an hour's warning if need be.” Three of his sons were
privates in the Revolutionary army, John drawing his pension from
the Government during his latter days. A venerable man, as I re-
member him, fond of relating his war adventures in the “Şarseys,”
proud of having seen General Washington, and of reciting the war
ballads of that time. I find among my papers one of these copied
by his own hand. Some of the first verses are wanting, and several
of the following are obscure, the paper being doubled and much
worn. I have not seen these elsewhere : –
“But Gage and Howe and Clinton too,
And many thousand more,
May cross the main, but all in vain :
Our rights we’ll ne'er give o’er.
“Our fathers gave them to their sons,
And these again to theirs,
And we’ll convey them safely down
To our succeeding heirs.
AVO 7TAZ.S. I47
“Our properties we’ll sure maintain,
Our rights we'll not resign,
Nor these be sold for glittering gold .
Nor heaps of Spanish coin.
“Tories may dream of future joys,
But I am bound to say
They’ll find themselves bound fast in chains
If Britain wins the day.
“The cause for which we do contend
We know is just and right,
Therefore we trust the Lord of Hosts
Will put our foes to flight.
“Then, in our Great Jehovah's name,
And under his command,
Let us go forth with one accord
The fate of war to stand.
“ Husbands must leave their loving wives,
And sprightly youth attend, -
Leave their sweethearts and better selves,
Their country to defend.
148. AVE W COMAWEC 7/CU 7.
“May Heaven now guide us in the field
And keep us safely there;
We pray the Lord will be our shield
When thundering cannons roar.”
Whether written by some member of his regiment or other, they
plainly speak the spirit of the time, poor as the doggerel verses are.
Captain Alcock's commission is dated at Hartford, May 18, 1774,
fourteenth year of the reign of George III.
NOTE 18, page 31.
This instrument was made from the bole of a maple-tree grown in
a bilberry-tangle on the confines of the farm (a wizard spot then
to the young fancy). From this its sides, rim, and neck were fash-
ioned by the knife; the varnish, strings, and rosin were purchased at
New Haven. The bow was strung from the tail of the family horse.
My eyes were delighted with its beauty. It was an amusement and
recreation for noon-spells and rainy days. I must confess the
scrannel notes drawn forth were unreportable to cultivated ears. It
disappeared in the hands of a dapper Hessian tailor, in payment for
his work on the homespun suit, which sailed South on its adventures
among the “First Families” of the Old Dominion.
AVO ZTE.S. - I49
NOTE 19, page 32.
The custom of gleaning after the reapers came, it appears, with
the introduction of wheat into Britain from the East, and was
brought by the Puritans into New England, where it was continued
in the rural districts until the beginning of the present century.
Wheat was grown on the virgin lands until these were less produc-
tive; then gave place to the cultivation of rye. Gleaning was sel-
dom seen in my boyhood. I seldom used the sickle, but oftener
the cradle and the scythe. The haying season was one of continued
labor and merriment. There was something picturesque and poetic
in looking at the platoon of mowers delivering their swaths from the
scythe across the meadow, and then following them with tedding-
fork, spreading the new-mown grass. The cradling and binding
the sheaves of rye gave a certain dignity to the laborer. But what-
ever of picturesque grace once attached to these rural occupations
is now superseded by prose machinery, and the golden age of poetic
labor is departed from us. Still machinery has not destroyed the
poetry of toil, while apple and berry picking remain to us. For
what but the human hand can gracefully pluck an apple or a
berry : &
NOTE 20, page 34.
“No picture of domestic life,” says Atwater in his History of New
Haven Colony, “in New England could be complete which did
not exhibit the family observing the annual Thanksgiving. Reject-
I5O AVE W COAVAVA2C 77CO/7.
ing Christmas, because of the superstitions which had attached r
themselves to it, the Puritans established in its place another festival,
which became equally domestic in the manner of its observance.
Children who had left their parents to prepare for the duties of
adult life, or to occupy homes which they had established, were
gathered again in the home of their nativity, or under the roof of
those whom they had learned, since they were married, to call father
and mother. Here they recounted the blessings of the year, and
united in giving thanks to God. If there were children's children
they came with their parents, and spent the hours which remained
after worship in feasting and frolic. Whenever the family came to
the table for breakfast, dinner, or supper, there was a grace before
meat, and when they left it a grace after meat, — every person
standing by his chair while the blessing was asked and the thanks
were given. Family worship was an important feature of domestic
life in Puritan households.”
Dr. Dwight adds his testimony to the character of the Connecticut
people : —
“The State of Connecticut is distinguished, perhaps, from all
other countries by a commanding regard to personal character.
— “Here, in truth,
Not in pretence, man is esteemed as man.
Not here how rich, of what peculiar blood,
Or office high ; but of what genuine worth,
What talents bright and useful, what good deeds,
AVO 7TES. I5 I
What piety to God, what love to man,
The question is. To this an answer fair
The general heart secures.”
Dr. Dwight's Travels.
NOTE 21, page 35.
“Threading the needle” was a favorite play with the young
people. Blindman's buff, Throwing the handkerchief, huskings,
and apple bees, sleigh rides, and a dance after quiltings were
also favorite amusements. A “raising” was an occasion of interest
and merriment to both old and young. The game called “Thread-
ing the Needle" was played by children or young persons, one of
each sex standing together with their hands joined and arms raised,
under which the other players passed, until the two chose to drop
their arms, and catch a girl or boy, who must then pay a kiss to be
set free. The players sung, meantime, this verse : —
“The needle's eye no one can pass,
The thread that runs so true;
It has caught many a pretty fair lass,
And now it has caught you.”
NOTE 22, page 36.
William Andrews Alcott. He was my cousin and a little older
than myself. Living in sight, we sought each other's society when-
ever we could steal away from our home duties, hoping to find in
I52 AVEW COMAWAEC 77CUT.
conversation and reading food for our minds not accessible to us at
school, nor within the limits of our immediate neighborhood. We
read the same books, borrowed any within our reach that promised
to be interesting or instructive ; formed a Juvenile Library, as we
called it; corresponded by letters, delivering these at each other's
doors; cherished like dreams of the future. Teaching was a desira-
ble occupation and possible for us; we even aspired to authorship.
A new spelling-book was thought to be needed, and, should we at-
tain to a position of eminence in medicine or the ministry, might be
written. Dr. Alcott's writings on hygiene and primary education
were numerous ; they had a wide popularity for a time, and might
be read still with profit. He was a pioneer in reforms, in methods
of teaching and discipline. As a teacher in his district his reputa-
tion was second to none. His papers contributed to the “American
Journal of Education ” contain suggestions to which many of the
modern improvements owe their origin. He was for some time
associated with Mr. William C. Woodbridge in conducting the
“Annals of Education,” and succeeded him as its editor. Few men
have lived lives of more untiring industry. His modesty was the
only impediment to a wide and just appreciation by his contempo-
Iſa IICS,
NOTE 23, page 37.
The “Hartford Courant” and “New Haven Register” were the
only newspapers that came into our neighborhood. The former was
brought by a post-rider across the Hill; we rode to “ Woodtick,”
AVO ZTE.S. I53
two miles away, for the latter. With what avidity we devoured the
accounts of battles by sea and land and skirmishes with the Indians !
— purchasing greedily of the pedlers pictures and maps of the
struggle. Nor were the politics lost on us. Jefferson, Madison,
and Jackson were names familiar. We schoolboys caught some
notion of what they represented, to the extent even of becoming
partisans, – “democratic” or “federal,” the latter largely. Then
we had our military company, meeting weekly for exercise with our
wooden swords and guns, with plumes in our hats plucked from the
feathered fowl, cockades of “sheepskin morocco.” I had the honor
of rising from ensign, to lieutenant, from that to the highest rank
known, – that of captain ; and, after serving at the head of my com-
pany, of resigning my office, making a flaming speech, – eloquent,
of course, and winning plaudits from the brave.
NOTE 24, page 38.
The business of clock-making was begun in this neighborhood by
Ely Terry. In 1806 Mr. Terry established himself at the Falls on
Hancock's Brook in Plymouth, employing Messrs. Silas Hoadly and
Seth Thomas in manufacturing wooden clocks. He had previously
done a small business of the kind in another part of the town. This
clock-shop was situated above a mile from Spindle Hill. It was
reached by a blind, precipitous pathway, leading down the declivity
through a narrow defile, following and crossing repeatedly a little
rushing stream, as it wound its way towards the factory. This
I54 AVE W COAVAWAEC 7/CC/7. "
neighborhood was then named Ireland. Hancock's Brook, on the
north, flowed through pleasant meadows of the same name. South
of the Falls, the stream ran noisily over a rocky bed, at the base of
overhanging cliffs, emptying into the Naugatuck at Waterville. The
Hartford and Fishkill Railroad has cleaved its way along the margin
for some distance, and by a circuitous passage across the highlands,
descending by a deep cut to Bristol, and thence to Hartford. Here,
at the Falls, Messrs. Thomas and Hoadly prosecuted a successful
business till some time in the year 1813, when Mr. Thomas trans-
ferred his business to Church Hollow (Plymouth), and gave his
name to the thriving village, which owes its prosperity, if not its
existence, chiefly to his skill and enterprise, ranking now as one
of the great manufacturing towns in the valley of the Naugatuck.
The western and northern sides of New Connecticut were covered
with a luxuriant growth of ivy, esteemed of little worth, till Messrs.
Terry, Thomas, and Hoadly brought the wood into use for clock
pinions. The owners of these woodlands furnished this “clock-
stuff,” as it was called, ready for the turner, by a cutting machine
invented for this purpose. The new industry also created a demand
for clock-cords, which were manufactured from flax raised by the
farmers, and spun ready for use ; while the young men and women
were tempted by the offer of fair wages into the factory as turners,
or in putting the clocks together, ornamenting the faces, and other
forms of work. The farms, in consequence, were neglected ; the
spinning and weaving were becoming superseded by the cheapness
of cotton fabrics. The young men, emulous of adventure, or of
AWO TES. I55
more lucrative employment during the winter months, went South as
pedlers of the clocks. Presently tin-ware and dry goods were added
to their stock in trade. As the years passed and a new generation
came forward, the farms had grown up with timber, and the days
of industry and thrift in New Connecticut had departed.
My work at the factory consisted of “fitting parts and putting to-
gether.” In itself it was neither hard nor disagreeable. But it left
me less of the freedom for reading and study with which I had been
favored hitherto; and, after urgent persuasion on my part, I was
permitted to return and attend school.
NOTE 25, page 39.
Rev. John Keyes. He was a faithful servant of the town during
his ministry, and while a generation of young men and women were
coming forward to take part in its affairs. Up to his time the
pursuit had been mainly agriculture, but now new industries had
sprung into existence in the neighboring towns, and drawn the young
people away by the offer of better wages or more agreeable pursuits.
Many had chosen to pass the winter months at the South, and, on
their return, brought from there freer manners than the sober citizens
deemed respectable, and particularly unbecoming to the gravity of
public worship on Sunday. The high pews in the galleries were
then wont to be crowded with the gay idolaters, anticipating the
evening's devotions rather than those proper to the sanctuary. If the
preacher was in earnest in his worship, not less earnest and devout
156 AVE W COAVAVAEC 77CU 7.
were they in theirs, – even while the gayest appeared to be taking
notes of his discourse. Mr. Keyes was the first minister of his de-
nomination of whom I have any distinct remembrance. Mr. Wood-
ward had passed away some years before his settlement. The day
of Mr. Keyes's installation was a memorable occasion. Rev. Dr.
Lyman Beecher, then residing in Litchfield, preached the sermon,
and left a lively impression on my memory. His bearing in the pul-
pit was superbly serious and impressive. His arguments, pointed
with emphasis by the spectacles dropped or raised, as he dealt forth
his doctrine, thunderous at times, and illuminated by the lighting
of his countenance, were in a style of eloquence as unique as it
was effective. Beside his part, I remember nothing of the day's
exercises.
The church has undergone many reverses since that time. A
bright and memorable occasion was the celebration of the centenary
of the church in September, 1873, which brought together from dis-
tant parts many who had their birth and had passed their early days
within its territory. A poem read at that time draws a characteristic
sketch of the place and of its history. The author is the well-known
poet of Concord, nephew and namesake of Dr. Channing, the
divine.
“The ages pass, their heroes live and fade,
And mythic pens prose to a future shade ;
Again the Trojan plains refresh our sight,
The flashing plumes Astyanax delight,
AVO 7"E.S. I57
&
&
Again to us, – again his Sabine farm
The Roman Horace sends us with a charm,
And silver Virgil slowly tunes bis lay, -
Time was and is, – let us implore to-day.
In these plain fields, upon old Spindle Hill,
Not vainly Wolcott looks, nor turns its mill
Mad River, — child of the deep and moss-clad swamp,
Around whose spruce our wandering thoughts encamp.
For sweet renew the fading dreams of old,
When the fleet Indian here was hunting bold,
Not merely savage, but possessed with sense,
Social and kind, shrewd in his eloquence,
No more destructive, formed to mash and slay;
He loved to see the softening light delay
'On Wolcott's height and touch her shadowy vales,
Child of mysterious thought and Nature's ails.
His altar was the sunshine on the hills,
The bird’s quick song, the woodland or the rills.
And where to-day we greet the Hundred Years,
Since first this church allayed uncivil fears,
Toiled on dark centuries a mouldering knell,
Trees were their pillars, winds were all the bell.
“To us, this hundred years more than a line
Of tawny Sachems comes, a thought divine;
158
AVE W COMAWAEC 77CO 7.
It in our human nature has its dates,
And more to us than outward things relates.
The Fathers’ home, Wolcott the dear, the good,
The hills, the vales, a crowning multitude,
Eying afar the steeples where they shine,
From Spindle Hill we touch the blue sea brine,
And Farmingbury names the simple truth.
As now, so in the pastime of her youth,
They ploughed the shining glebe, they stocked the mill,
Rising from homelier attributes to skill,
Our virtuous Fathers, strong and steady folk,
Slow in their motion, not divest of joke;
On ‘proxing day” they voted for the best,
To guide the impulse of the busy nest.
They brewed the vintage oft from mellow grain,
Saw rich Pomona load the joyous wain,
Bearing great tributes from the orchards here,
In sparkling cups desiderable cheer.
Pleased with sobriety, our yeomen held
Feasts of the farming genius, not impelled
By thoughtless Fashion's cold, unfeeling sway,
A spendthrift worm that eats its web away.
The husking frolic made the barn aloud,
The ruddy corn sent laughter through the crowd,
While the coy virgin held the blackened ear,
Half mischief-bent, she still reserved its fear;
AVO 7"E.S. I59
And gay Philander marching chose his love, –
His choice forever, let us hope to prove.
“No word profane then sullied house or street;
The time was innocent, its moral sweet.
So lived the fathers; natural men were they :
Whate'er they held, the youth should swift obey.
They did not spare the law the child to spoil;
They cherished industry, nor thought it toil.
Duly each Sabbath to this church they came,
Devoutly pious in salvation's flame,
Good counsels got that brought the week in view ;
Here might one think, and here his thought renew.
“An English race an English tint may prize,
The Saxon blonde that shines from friendly eyes;
Light waves the tress across yon Parian brow ;
Blue are those tender orbs as violets grow, -
Those pleasant glances of the English maid,
Stealing along the burnside by the glade.
Such blood shows temperate, such in virtue grows,
Loves the old homestead where the sires repose;
The modest field along the gentle height, —
Where rest from all their labors, from the fight,
The silent hermits of the peaceful cell :
“After life's fitful fever they sleep well,” —
16o
AVE W COAVAWEC 7/CU 7.
&
6
So sang a poet once; and yet this race,
After life's earnest action, seek for grace, —
Softly that watchful sky bends patient down,
And winds and waters smooth their burial-town.
And must we ask for monuments more high
Than these plain stones? and should this church defy,
With pillared arches or o'er fretting spire,
Time's deepest dents or the last judgment-fire?
A glittering abbey’s but a sty of monks,
Dull contributions piled o'er filthy trunks.
Our people are the church, its virtues shine
As theirs in eminence, — the work divine; —
If they control their thoughts, their passion stay,
Seek generous acts, and truth and love obey, -
Strive for unhappy souls who, strewn about,
Need home and friends, wrecked on the rabble rout, —
The pallid widow, left her mate to mourn,
Or narrow orphan by remonstrance shorn.
We build this church of justice, carve the right
Along her battlements, whose heaven-born flight
Defies the patience of the loftiest tower,
Spurns history, and dates from Virtue's hour;
Something that never feels the chill of death,
No moth, no rust; that draws its lovely breath
AVO 7TE.S. I61
From groves of Palm, by Rivers of the Cross,
Deliverance from alarm, beyond all loss.
Such are our altars, – these our flamens wear
Across their hearts, Be good and true, be fair —
Like some cold fountain to a traveller's taste,
In his hot summer toil across the waste,
Nor all unknown, for from this Mount may flow
Pure streams of thought such as the gods allow.
This youthful pilgrim with his pack unslung,
From far Virginia's vales, – unbind his tongue,
And prove how love and beauty yet are clear
In Wolcott's skies as in the Athenian year.
And many a mirthful child shall eager hold,
The cheerful sermons from this pulpit rolled,
Tales that in all the households of the land
Call up their ‘Little Women’ to be grand.
“Let us believe, yea, may we oft declare,
That round us lies a scene as rich, as fair,
As that Boccaccio dreamt and Milton caught,
When on its wings upsprung the verdurous thought
Of Paradise; rare because innocent,
Fair because true, – pledge of a people bent
To make their problem clear, – self-government;
No gilded king betrays his hollow fate,
The tattered symbol of a treacherous date;
162
AVE W COAVAWEC 77CO/7.
6
No tax-built church compels us here to sign
Thirty-nine articles, or life resign.
Here every man is to himself a state,
His own prerogative, his own debate.
The land is ours, those heavens are our own,
The race here blossoms, more maturely grown;
We may not seek to live a down-trod life,
Bring back mad Rome, or whet Napoleon's knife.
Enough the grassy fields that round us lie,
Enough the cheerful hill, dear Wolcott's eye,
That by its lifting purifies the air,
And shows us blither to both sun and star.
Child of the ancient Race, who sailed with fate,
Across cold ocean's vault not desolate ;
Child of the blue-eyed Saxon, here thy sire
Built his warm hearth-stone, here lit up its fire ;
Never let us forget from whence we came,
From Shakespeare's fields, fanned by an English flame,
United by the past, yet one to-day,
Fused by humanity’s o’ermastering ray. —
Then may the people lift the song of praise,
And ask the Lord to grant them length of days,
To screen our church from madness and deceit,
In virtue's strength each virtuous soul entreat.
AVO ZTE.S. I 63
.”
And in those future hours when future years,
Build up by hundreds o'er our smiles and tears,
Must never sin nor stain pollute this soil,
Of peace the faithfullest, of love the oil 1 ''
NOTE 26, page 42.
“The Naugatuck River rises in the Green Mountains, in the town-
ship of Norfolk, near the north line of the State. Thence, in a
course generally south, it passes through Winchester, Torrington,
Harwinton, Plymouth, Waterbury, and Oxford to Derby. Its
length is about forty miles, its current rapid, and, when swollen by
freshets, as it often is very suddenly, violent and destructive. It
furnishes a great number of mill-seats, and is in many places lined
with beautiful intervals. Notwithstanding the roughness of the
country through which it passes, its bed is worn so deep, and to
so uniform a surface, that from Waterbury, northward, one of the
smoothest and most level turnpike roads in the State has been formed
on its banks.” — ZXwight's ZYazels.
NOTE 27, page 43.
The valley of the Naugatuck is now known chiefly as the seat of
extensive manufactures, due to the enterprise and thrift of its inhab-
itants; its banks being dotted with factories almost the whole line
of its passage from Winsted to Derby Landing. Hardly any sec-
tion of New England presents a busier aspect to the traveller.
I64 AVAE W COAVAVEC 77COVZ.
Waterbury, its chief town and city, is famed for its numerous rolling-
mills and brass manufactures of various kinds; Thomaston for
its clocks; Birmingham for its pin manufacture. Throughout its
whole distance this valley is a workshop for a busy population. All
this has sprung up within the present century. Derby and Hum-
phreysville (Seymour) were considerable places before this date : for
fisheries, ship-building, and coasting trade at Derby ; and for woollen
manufactures at Humphreysville. Then Waterbury was a mere vil-
lage, containing less than 3,000 people in the township. At an earlier
date, Wadsworth, then making a tour of observation, records in his
journal : “August. I694. — We came this day to Mattatuck, alias
Waterbury, being about eight or ten miles from Woodbury. 'Tis
a very bad road between the towns. A small river, whereon there
is some valuable land, runs through Waterbury, which is a small
town, though very compact, of twenty-five families. Rev. Mr.
Peck is their minister. They have a new meeting-house, though
not completed.”
My earliest recollections are associated with the Green and steeples
of this ancient village. I sometimes rode behind my mother on
horseback four miles to attend church at St. John's, and lunched at
noon with a relative of hers. Her brother Tillotson had been rector
of St. John's a few years before. The steeples were the first I had
seen so near, and excited my curiosity. I had only seen such from
the summit of New Connecticut, Wolcott meeting-house having
none. My mother, bred an Episcopalian, preferred attending
church here before services were held in the schoolhouse on Spindle
AVO 7TES. - I65
#3.
Hill. A portion of the Green was then a frog-pond and reedy fen,
The young folks used at noontime to pull sweet-flag there, chewing
the root in service-time. Here, to the mills on Mad River, when
the water was low at the Great Falls, I sometimes came, riding atop
of sacks of rye; waiting for my grist to be ground, and returning in
like manner. The clock factories, then a novelty, stood near the
mill, and, being curious about machinery and woodcraft, I often lin-
gered there.
NOTE 28, page 43.
“Forthwith the crowd proceed to deck,
With haltered noose, McFingal's neck.
While he, on peril of his soul,
Stood tied, half hanging from the pole.
Then, lifting high the ponderous jar,
Poured on his head the smoking tar.
. * His flowing wig, as next the brim,
3. First met and drank the sable stream ;
Adown his visage, stern and brave,
Rolled and adhered the viscid wave ;
With arms depending as he stood,
Each cuff capacious holds the flood ;
From nose and chin's remotest end
The tarry icicles descend ;
Till all o'erspread with colors gay
He glittered in the western ray,
I66 AVE W COMAWEC7 ICU 7.
Like sleet-bound trees in wintry skies,
Or Lapland idol carved in ice.
And now the feathered bag displayed
Is waved in triumph o'er his head,
And clouds him o'er with feathers missive,
And down upon the tar adhesive.
Not Maia's son, with wings for ears,
Such plumage round his visage wears;
Nor Milton's six-winged angel gathers
Such superfluity of feathers.
Now all complete appears our squire,
Like gorgon or chimera dire;
Nor more could boast on Plato's plan
To rank among the race of man,
Or prove his claim to human nature
As a two-legged, unfeathered creature.”
McFingal, Canto III.
NOTE 29, page 44.
In an ode of his, entitled “Mount Vernon,” General Humphreys
thus alludes to his acquaintance with Washington : —
“By broad Potomac's azure tide,
Where Vernon's mount in sylvan pride
Displays its beauties far,
AVO 7"E.S. 167
Great Washington to peaceful shades,
Where no unhallowed wish invades,
Retired from fields of war.
“Let others sing his deeds in arms :
A nation saved and conquests’ charms
Posterity shall hear.
'Twas mine, retired from Europe's courts,
To share his thoughts, partake his sports,
And soothe his partial ear.”
1786.
NOTE 30, page 45.
This institution is probably the oldest of the kind in the country.
The first steps towards its organization were taken by the Convention
of the Diocese in 1794, very soon after the consecration of Bishop
º For many years it was the most celebrated seat of learning
in the State under the control of Churchmen; it was both college and
theological seminary for this and other dioceses. Dr. Bronson was
for many years the principal of the school. He was distinguished
for his classical and mathematical attainments. He was a theolo-
gian of eminence, and the choice of a large portion of the diocese
of Connecticut for the Bishopric. For many years he was editor of
the Churchman's Magazine, to which he contributed portions of his
lectures delivered to his studcnts, entitled “Science the Handmaid of
I68 MEW cowA/Eczzcoz.
Religion,” a poem entitled “Retrospect,” describing his birthplace
on the Naugatuck, and sonnets to the several months.
Portions of his verses entitled “Retrospect” follow : —
“Sweet vale, secluded from the world's vain strife,
Where Science never trod, where Genius slept
In unambitious, humble life,
And calm Religion sought retreat, —
Thy flowery lawns, thy green enamelled meads
Untuned to numbers, thee I joyous greet.
“Full on the right a mountain peers sublime ;
There leafy forests crown its rounded brow ;
There up the rocky steep securely climb
Few straggling, stinted oaks ; and there
A naked moss-grown cliff of sable hue
Bedims with gloom the sun's declining glare.
“A dark-green, twofold pine, ascending tall,
Just on the precipice's dizzy height,
Nods to the winds and threats a ſall.
The seated hill and subject plain
In seeming haze the swimming eye confuse,
And all the kindled dazzling senses pain.
“See there, from forth its base, meandering creep
And silent glide along the broadening stream,
AVO ZTE.S.
I69
On whose smooth surface calmly sleep
The banks and stooping forest nigh
Inverted, with the climbing rocky mound,
And underneath the blue ethereal sky.
“Tall sycamores with branching elms combine,
Casting a solemn shade along the green
Where ruminating herds recline,
Or plunging down they stand and lave
Their panting sides, by Swarming insects stung,
Or snuff the cooling breeze and sip the wave.
“Beyond the flood luxuriant pastures smile,
Or ripened corn that waves before the wind,
To glad the Swain and toil beguile
Of gleeful boys who shock the grain :
Enlivening scene ! Rich source of earthly joy
Where health, and peace, and calm contentment reign.
“Blithe from the couch, long ere the blazing sun
Has peeped above the eastern hoary cliffs,
They rise ; and, morning service done,
Nerved for the field they hie away,
Snuffing the cool, the pure, the fragrant breeze.
Successive thus rolls on each passing day.
17o AVAE W COMAWEC 7/CU 7.
“Here first I drank the stream of vital air,
First saw the glorious sun with shining orb,
And all this mundane scene so fair ;
Here still my soul would wander pleased,
And greet the verdant landscape o'er and o'er,
From burdening thoughts and labored study eased.
“Here first Religion warmed my laboring breast ;
First here I felt her pure, enlivening glow ;
My secret soul her guilt conſessed
To Him who sees through night’s dark reign
As full, as clear, as at the mid-day blaze,
And pardon metes when contrite hearts complain.
“Ye smiling glens, embosomed deep in hills
Where never swept the rude tornado's rage,
Ne'er may you know the ruder ills
Of warring man, intent on spoil;
Here may the frugal swain securely dwell,
And load his healthy board from sweatening toil.
“Hence, luxury, begone; nor with thy breath
From splendid halls and midnight feasts untold
Spread pestilence and venomed death :
Thy poisonous steaming drugs be far ;
Taint not those streams from gushing founts that flow,
And nature's purest, healthiest beverage mar.
AVO 7TE.S. I 71
“While the firm earth endures, while rivers glide,
O Thou, who guid'st the universal whole,
May health and plenty here reside,
By labor and by temperance bought ;
And thou, romantic dale, to memory dear,
My home ! be thou my latest earthly thought.
“The Sun now sinks behind the western hill,
And casts a cooling shade along the fields;
Anon comes grateful twilight, still
Unbroke, save by the tinkling bell,
And lowing herds, re-greeting glad their young,
Or scanted stream faint murmuring down the dell.
“The hour of darksome night, assigned to rest
For weary toil, ensues; the mansion closed,
The kneeling sire, with contrite breast,
Invokes the Power that reigns above,
His household gathered round in solemn pause,
And asks his daily bread from Boundless Love.
“Sweet slumber, falling, closes every eye;
Unheard, the ticking clock tolls out his knell,
Till Hesper speaks gray morning nigh,
Or from his perch the cock's shrill voice
Calls tuneful nature all to wake and sing,
And in the great Creator's praise rejoice.”
I 72 AVE W COAVAVAEC 7TWCC77.
NOTE 31, page 46.
The spacious Green, the colleges, and bookstores were objects of
admiration. Among other fancies at this time I remember the one
of applying for a place in a bookstore, thinking I might thus have a
chance to read the books. My first glance at a library had been at
Cheshire on my way. The sight of so many books saddened me
with the thought that I might never be able to read them all. I
recall the title of a single volume; it was Ray’s “Wisdom of God
Manifested in the Works of the Creation.” The author was a
person of celebrity in his time.
NOTE 32, page 48.
A letter written at this period remains, and may find place as a
note with the full title-page of the book named therein : —
“Wolcott, May 29, 1817.
“DEAR FRIEND, - I have been so busied about many things
since your letter came to hand, that I have hardly had any time to
reply as I wished. s.
“About my summer : I have concluded to remain at home and
work on the farm, giving my leisure time to studying Burgh's
‘Dignity.’ I can borrow the book of my aunt. Having read it
yourself, you know its value. Does it not illustrate Pope's line in
making the reader
“To see all others’ faults and feel his own '?
AVO 7TE.S. I 73
**
“Wishing you much pleasure and profit in reading Rollin's
‘Ancient History,” I am yours truly,
AMOS B. ALCOX.
“WILLIAM A. ALCOx.”
The title of this book is, “The Dignity of Human Nature; or,
A Brief Account of the Certain and Established Means for Attaining
the True End of our Existence. In Four Books. I. Of Prudence.
II. Of Knowledge. III. Of Virtue. IV. Of Revealed Religion.
By JAMES BURGH.
“‘Qui se ipse novit, intelliget se habere aliquid Divinum, sem-
perque et sentiet et faciet aliquid tanto munere dignum.’ — Cicero.”
A thoughtful and instructive volume, to which I am indebted
for many wise counsels and useful suggestions. It was a Boston
edition, printed in 1794. This and “Pilgrim's Progress” were
favorite reading.
NOTE 33, page 49.
I should be disloyal to myself and my author did I not record my
early interest in this delightful allegory, the charm it had for me
when a boy, the ideal life which its perusal awoke and fostered in
my rural retreat, afar from books and the haunts of cultivated people.
More than any work of genius, more than all other books, the
Dreamer's Dream brought me into living acquaintance with myself,
my duties; and if the value of a work is to be determined by its
power to interest and educate its readers, then I must acknowledge
I 74 AVAE W COAVAVAEC 77CO/7.
my debt to be greatest to the author of “Pilgrim's Progress.” The
copy which I borrowed so often of a cousin is now in my possession.
It is an illustrated edition, published in Edinburgh in 1802.
NOTE 34, page 51.
Rev. John Flavel was an English Nonconformist clergyman, whose
books were much prized by pious people of the Puritan stamp. Be-
sides this treatise on “Keeping the Heart,” he wrote “Husbandry
Spiritualized,” “The Touchstone of Sincerity,” “The Soul of
Man,” “Divine Conduct,” “An Exposition of the Assembly's
Catechism,” and other books.
NOTE 35, page 53.
I have reason to be grateful to my parents for leaving me free to
choose and fashion a religious faith in accordance with my native
temperament and gifts. I was taught to reverence and speak the
truth and practise personal purity. Beside these, I was taught at
school to recite the Westminster and Episcopal Catechisms. At
sixteen years of age I was confirmed in the church at Waterbury,
having been christened when an infant by my uncle Tillotson.
After confirmation I became a lay reader in the schoolhouse on
Spindle Hill. In the formation of my religious views, I am not \
aware of being permanently influenced by any contemporary. There
is a spiritual as there is a human heredity, a family creed and like-
ness. Very naturally the Episcopal tendencies of one's namesake
and godfather may crop out in his grandson; the Broad Church
AVO 7TE.S. I 75
into which he was born, baptized, and confirmed better express his
considered faith than other of the dissenting denominations, however
liberal and devout. The man is implied in all faiths, and he alone
gives soundness and significance to any. An anonymous writer best
expresses this : —
“The union of a sect within itself is a pitiful charity. It is no
concord of Christians, but a conspiracy against Christ ; and they
that love one another for special rites and rules love for their own
sakes, not their Lord's ; not because they love his image, but be-
cause they bear one another's.”
NOTE 36, page 54.
A lady who was present at the installation of Mr. Keys relates
that when the hour came for service at the church, “the members of
the Council formed a procession, two by two, then the choir, and
following them, in the same manner, the members of the church.
The meeting-house was full, the singers in the gallery nearly filling
the front seats on three sides. The bass singers sat on the west side
of the gallery, David Harrison with bass-viol in the centre; the tenor
and counter on the south side, and Stephen Harrison with tenor-viol
in the centre; first treble on the east side, and Dr. Harvey Norton
with violin in the centre.”
NOTE 37, page 56.
“The Puritan Sabbath began on Saturday at sunset. House-
-
keepers prepared for the morrow's day of rest by putting everything ;
176 AVE W COAVAVEC 77CO/7.
l
in readiness, that all unnecessary labor might be avoided. The floors
were scrubbed in the cleanest manner, the Sunday's attire made
ready. The Sunday was at once a holy day and a holiday, the
Puritan restraint with which it was kept till sunset giving place in
the evening to recreation and social converse. Though young men
were forbidden to “inveigle or draw the affections of any maid without
the consent of father, master, guardian, governor, or such other who
hath the interest in charge (or, in the absence of such, of the nearest
magistrate), whether by Speech, writing, messages, company-keeping,
sinful dalliance, gifts, or any other way,” yet every respectable young
man knew of some house where he met on Sunday evening one of
the maidens whom he had seen in the opposite gallery of the meet-
ing-house, without fear that father, master, guardian, or governor
would be displeased.” — Atwater's History of New Haven Colony.
NOTE 38, page 59.
“They love their land because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why ;
Would shake hands with a king upon his throne,
And think it kindness to his majesty.
A stubborn race, fearing and flattering none,
Such are they nurtured, such they live and die, –
All but a few apostates, who are meddling
With merchandise, pounds, shillings, pence, and peddling.”
Aſal/ec/4's Com/?ecticut.
AVO 7TAZ.S. 177
The business of peddling was a profitable one at this time, and at
its height of prosperity. Dr. Dwight has given a good account of
it in his Travels.
“The pedler's load is composed of tinware, pins, needles, scis-
sors, combs, buttons, children's books, cotton stuffs, a smaller or
larger assortment to offer to his customers. A number set out with
large wagons loaded with dry-goods, hats, and shoes, together with
tinware and the small articles already mentioned. These loads will
frequently cost the proprietor from one to two thousand dollars, and
are intended exclusively for the Southern and Western States. It is
frequently the fact that from twenty to thirty persons are employed
by a single house in the manufacturing and selling of tinware
and other articles. The workmen, furnished with a sufficient quan-
tity of the raw material to employ them for six months, are sent by
water in the autumn to Virginia, North and South Carolina, and
Georgia. They station themselves at some town in the interior,
where the employer or agent has a store well furnished with such
articles as the pedlers require. As the stock of each pedler is ex-
hausted he repairs to the store for a supply. In this way a large
amount of goods are vended during the six or eight months they are
absent.”
...' Not less than ten from Wolcott often went South during several
seasons. These were mostly employed by a house in Southington.
178 AVA; W COMAWAEC 77CO/7.
:*
NOTE 3.9, page 59.
Norfolk was a winter-stand for pedlers at this time. Tinware
was manufactured there on Church Street, the pedlers being reſur-
nished with their supplies as these were disposed of in the surround-
ing counties. A county license was required from the authorities.
Other articles were added to their load if desired. Once a place of
some importance, Norfolk then owed its standing chiefly to the
naval station at Gosport. Foreign vessels were often seen sailing
into the spacious harbor, or anchored in the stream, their national
colors at masthead. In the streets, at evening particularly, were
seamen from all parts of the world, dressed in their national cos-
tumes. Water Street was a famous resort for them. Market Street
and Square were the centres of business. Hither came the country-
men in their tumbrels, laden with their small ventures, from the sale
of which they supplied themselves with needful comforts for their
families, or small trades. Gentlemen might often be seen in the
saddles protected from the slush underfoot by “spatterdashes'’
strapped about their legs. Gigs were common vehicles. At the
foot of the market were the ferry stairs, from which row-boats at
regular intervals conducted passengers to and fro between the
Borough and Portsmouth Landing opposite.
AVO Z'E.S. I 79
NOTE 40, page 60.
When I went into Princess Ann County in quest of employment
as a schoolmaster, the strangeness of the country and of the people
in that neighborhood soon led me to question whether I was not
bent on a fool's errand, and must not reclaim my good sense by
seeking another calling at once. And a venerable gentleman, whose
guest I was for the night, had the kindness to assure me of the hope-
lessness of my pursuit, though I drew from my pocket my credentials,
signed by the learned principal of Cheshire Academy. Why, then,
longer persist in chasing an absurdity? It was plain that these
people, dwelling here around the fens bordering on Dismal Swamp,
ignorant as they were, had sense enough not to engage a strolling
schoolmaster, come all the way from Yankeeland, to instruct their
children. Convinced of the folly of the chase, I turned my face
towards Norfolk. The Dismal swamp was before me. I entered it
some time in the afternoon. The path led alongside the canal, -
“By tangled junipers, beds of reeds,
By many a fen, where the serpent breeds.”
Evening approached, and the long stretch of the canal was still
before me. A tempest arose, adding to the loneliness and terror.
The cypresses, bent and swayed by the blast, fell now and then
a CIOSS the path, threatening the head of the traveller. It was late in
the evening when I found my companions in the Borough. Dismal
18O AVAE W COAVAVA, CZYCOWZ.
as was the adventure, and discouraging, it saved me from a disas-
trous failure in pedagogy, and set me upon quite another errand.
NOTE 41, page 60.
My range was round the Square in Norfolk, through the Market
early in the morning, and from thence to the citizens’ doors on
the principal streets; sometimes across the ferry to Portsmouth.
My almanacs were bought by the dozen at the bookstore, and
offered single to purchasers. It was a good day's work when my
profits reached a dollar, though some days they were double that sum.
It required more confidence, at first, than I could readily summon,
to accost a person and offer my trifle. Habit, however, soon gave
facility, even something of dignity, to my attitude, and won respect.
A foot-peddler, even now, when I meet one, awakens the former
sensations, and puts me in his place for the time. This feeling
humanizes; and I esteem it a fortunate incident in my career to
have been engaged in several different occupations, and thus brought
into sympathy with persons in the humbler walks of life.
NOTE 42, page 61.
The sale of almanacs was limited to the holidays. Norfolk and
Portsmouth had been canvassed and supplied for the current year.
Now for other fields of adventure. A shrewd dealer in fancy goods
offers credit for any amount of trinkets one may select from his store
on Market Street. The offer is auspicious and timely. So two
N
AVO 7TES. I81
hand-trunks are purchased and filled with a brilliant assortment Of
articles, both ornamental and useful, -purchased at fabulous prices,
the dealer knowing his man.
Gudgeon confessed, he buys, nor once demurs,
His dazzled eyes the cheated customers;
Why should he hesitate, why need repent,
To sell in turn at thirty-three per cent?
NOTE 43, page 63.
Hospitality is an historic trait of the Virginian, one in which he
takes a loyal pride. I find my journals and letters bear testimony
to this virtue as regards myself, - pedestrian as I was, and pedler
there. I remember but a single instance to the contrary, which
it seems was bruited about the neighborhood many years after its
occurrence, to be caught up by a travelling correspondent of the
New York Tribune, and given a yet wider currency. The writer
indulges in humor to suit his mood at the time of writing.
“At Stafford Court-House, strange to say, we learned something
concerning another New England Transcendentalist, though of quite
a different character from that which related to Mr. Emerson. The
subject was even the philosopher of the Conversazione, A. Bronson
Alcott. To our astonishment, we learned this modern Plato had
been a pedler of Boston notions — of veritable lace, thimbles, etc.—
before he had entered on the peddling of Transcendental truth. It
was about forty years before, according to our informant, that Plato
I82 AVAE W COAVAWAEC 7/CU 7.
came with his box of ‘notions’ to Stafford Court-House and put up
at the tavern. On the following day, which was Sunday, wishing
to see the neighborhood, he obtained a horse from some one, and,
instead of going to meeting, which was conducted by a favorite
young divine newly sent thither from the Baltimore Conference,
Alcott went “gadding about the country,” profanely enough. Indis-
creet man Little did he know the storm that was preparing a
thunderbolt for his sacrilegious head. On his return to the tavern,
the pious innkeeper informed him that for no price could he retain
in his house a man who would violate the Lord's Day by riding
about the country. He would not be persuaded ; and Alcott was
cast forth tavernless upon the shores of Virginia. However, an old,
friendly, and rather liberal gentleman (who took a Boston Univer-
salist newspaper) took him in, where Alcott found his ‘ungodliness
with contentment to be great gain.” Little did we expect to hear
two such good stories about Alcott and Emerson in such a region.
Our tea at the tavern had been execrable before ; but, sweetened
by this bit of romance, it became almost aesthetic.”
The anecdote of Emerson related to a student who, being sent to
the South to teach, died there of consumption, but told of Emer-
son's kindness to him when penniless, and assisting him about his
education at Harvard College.
As to the tavern-keeper, it was he who took in the vagabond after
the Methodist preacher had ejected him from his house, where
hospitality had been offered for the Sunday. º
AVO ZTE.S. 183
NOTE 44, page 65.
“Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile-a :
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.”
NOTE 45, page 66.
“I am sure it would please you to travel here in Virginia. Hos-
pitality is a distinguishing trait of the people, rich or poor. And the
polished manners and agreeable conversation ingratiate the traveller
at once in their favor. The planters in this section are largely an
educated class, – gentlemen in the best sense of the word. I pass
many an evening at their hospitable homes. It is a school of man-
ners next to travelling abroad.
“The country is picturesque and inviting, alike for its past and
present history. Yorktown, Williamsburg, and the shores of the
Chesapeake are full of incidents for study. Pleasant to move from
plantation to plantation, observing the various objects of interest
that meet his eye, ruins and monuments of past times. If ‘the
thinking man lives two lives,’ here there is food for thought with
every mile he travels.
& 4 It may interest you to learn that I passed a day with Dr. H.,
of Wolcott formerly, now living in Matthews County, where he mar-
ried and practises his profession. Like some others bred at the
184 AVAE W COAVAWAEC 7/CU 7.
North, who marry here, he retains his slaves and justifies the insti-
tution. Nor dare I affirm that even yourself would resist the
temptation to take the charming Virginian maiden with her dark
possessions.
“I wish you every success in your school, and a future of useful-
ness.” — Letter to Wm. A. Alcott, Norfolk, March 19, 1820.
NOTE 46, page 67.
A rainy day, too forbidding for travel, offered agreeable enter-
tainment as it gave access to the planters' libraries, which were
often voluminous and attractive. Of the books now remembered
are those mentioned in the verses : Lavater’s Physiognomy, illus-
trated (the heads from which I copied into my journal); and
“The Pilgrim’s Progress '' (in costlier editions than I had seen
before) beguiled the rainy days. Locke’s “Treatise on the Human
Understanding” proved also interesting; and now and then a novel
or a biography.
NoTE 47, page 67.
“William and Mary College was chartered in 1693, but the idea
of such a college was talked of among the Virginia colonists almost
as soon as they came. The college is next to the oldest American
school of learning, and, if thoughts were deeds, it might be called
the first. With no lack of money, with a favorable location, and
with plenty of powerful friends at home and abroad, it flourished

AVO ZTE.S. 185
finely until the guns of the Revolution sounded at its doors, and
swept away its money and many of its friends. William and Mary
was the school where were taught Thomas Jefferson, James Monroe,
Chief-Justice Marshall, and many another noted man; and it gave his
surveyor's commission to young George Washington, whose figure
was familiar in Williamsburg during a large part of his life, and
who, in his last years, served the college as its Chancellor, or hon-
orary head. Here, in 1776, was formed the Phi Beta Society of
America.”
“Nine miles east of Williamsburg lies Yorktown, around which,
in 1781, the combined French and American forces on land and sea
so planned and fought as to dislodge Lord Cornwallis from the
position he had chosen. It is now a small village containing about
two hundred and fifty inhabitants, mostly fishermen and oyster-
men. It lies on a bluff at a bend in the York River, whose mouth
is ten miles distant. The river spreads out below the town into a
broad and beautiful harbor. The historic buildings still standing
are the Nelson House and the Court-House ; the former served as
Lord Cornwallis's quarters during the siege. The Cornwallis Cave,
cut out of the rock, is at the foot of the bluff.” — Mewspaper.
The desolation of this ancient town, as I approached it by the
Warwick road, passing by the field of the surrender, printed the
scenery indelibly on my memory. And to revisit the spot after
the many years intervening would be deeply interesting and im-
pressive.
/
186 AVE W COAVAWEC 7/CU7.
NoTE 48, page 68.
Among the wealthy and distinguished planters, at whose mansions
I remember to have called, were the Tabbs and Taliaferros, Nelsons
and Dabreys, living on the shores of York and North rivers. It was
a continual surprise and wonder to the household by what stratagem
I passed safely through the gates (guarded as these were by fierce
mastiffs howling about my heels) and came to their doors. As I
had no fear of the creatures, they seemed to take me as an accepted
visitor, and affectionately escorted me thither. The only damage
which I received was a slight rent made in my surtout skirts by the
teeth of one of them. And I may add, that though I carried costly
trinkets, my trunk was never robbed of its treasures. I usually set
it by my bedside on retiring at night; and before I slept the profits
of the day's traffic were ascertained and recorded in my journal, with
the amount of cash in my pocket-book. A scrap of this, with an
entry or two, survives, and may be cited here : —
JANUARY, 182O.
Cash.
Saturday, I. At Yorktown, traded $5.48 #48.5o
Sunday, 2. With my brother, & 4 7.5o 54.5O
Monday, 3. I cross into Gloucester, & & 7.5o
Tuesday, 4. My brother leaves me, & 6 8.oo \ 62.OO
Wednesday, 5. In Gloucester County, & 4 8.oo 70.00
Thursday, 6. Passed Gloucester C. House, “ 12.50 \ 82.5o
i
\
\
\
AVO ZTE.S. 187
Friday, 7. Met my brother on North River at
Mr. Booth's, traded 8.oO 90.oo
Saturday, 8. We cross the North River into
Matthews County, traded 3.OO 93.OO
Sunday, 9. At private entertainment.
Monday, Io. At Thomas Ransom's on Back Creek.
Złuesday, 11. We return to Norfolk, traded 2. OO 94.OO
Wednesday, 12. Pay J. T. Allyn for goods, $75. OO
Thursday, 13. Property received of Allyn, 168.05%
Friday, 14. Goods on hand, $375.OO
Saturday, 15. Engage passage to Northern Neck of Virginia.
NOTE 49, page 69.
The abolition of slavery had not, while I was travelling in these
parts, become the absorbing question with the people from whom I
received such graceful hospitalities. My host and hostess sometimes
alluded with impatience to the annoyance of caring for and being
served by those whom they held beneath them in every sense. I saw
few open instances of cruelty, and was surprised at perceiving the
kindest relations occasionally existing between mistress and maid.
The elegant refinement and gracious courtesy, of which I was enam-
ored a. the time, doubtless covered from my eyes the iniquities of
the system. I recall no instance of its defence by any one during
my sºjourn here among the first families dwelling in the most fertile
lands bordering on the James and York rivers.
p
/
I88 AVE W COMAWAEC7/CC/7.
NOTE 50, page 70.
“Many of the young men employed in this business part at an
early period with both modesty and principle : their Sobriety is ex-
changed for cunning, their honesty for imposition, and their good,
decent behavior for coarse impudence. Mere wanderers, accus-
tomed to no order, control, or worship, and directed solely to the
acquisition of petty gains, they soon fasten upon this object, and
forget every other of a superior nature. The only source of their
Pleasure or their reputation is gain, and that, however small, or
however acquired, secures both. No course of life tends more rap-
idly or more effectually to eradicate every moral feeling.”— Dwight's
2%raze/s.
[With the preceding Note (50) the printed Notes of Mr. Alcott
end, and those which follow are made up by Mr. Sanborn from
the Alcott Papers.] -
NOTE 51, page 73.
The beginning of Part Third describes a voyage and land jour-
ney taken by the two cousins, Bronson and William Alcott, in
the autumn and winter of 1820–21. Beginning at New Haven,
they sailed to Charleston, S. C., and thence travelled slowly up the
country with the wagoners who carried their luggage. A full
account of this adventure was printed many years afterwards by
AVO 7TE.S. 189
Dr. Alcott, and is quoted below. A passage may here be quoted"
from Bronson Alcott’s letter to his family in Wolcott, concern-
ing the route from Charleston to Abbeville. He wrote thus: —
“The teamsters carried our trunks in their large wagons, while
we walked behind them. The streams were high ; there being no
bridges, we forded them, and camped at night by fires on some
dry spots by the roadside. The nights were frosty, and we found
our bed of pine needles rather uncomfortable. Our Dutchmen
were jocose in their way, and entertained us by their jokes and
strange manners. Near Columbia we passed large fields of rice
and indigo and cotton; there were fires lighted in these, and the
slaves were busy gathering the cotton, seen partly out of the pod.
Newberry Court House is about 160 miles from Charleston, on the
uplands. Here is the stand for pedlers in these parts. We pur-
pose leaving to-morrow in pursuit of schools. On our way from
Charleston we saw at the Rapids, on the Santee, some of our
Wolcott friends, who had preceded us, and were at work on the
Canal. In my next I hope to have some definite information to
give you about our success or failure in finding schools for the
season.”
The more detailed description given by Dr. Alcott is as fol-
lows : — w
“No New-England boy ever deserved a happier home or kinder
parents than I had. With them I lived and labored, cheerfully
and happily, till I was almost as large as I am now. At last I
began to grow uneasy. True, I was not tired of work, but I
I 90 AVE W COMAWEC 7TWCU 7.
wanted change. Besides, I had always, from my very childhood,
been anxious to ramble. But my father, who wanted me on the
farm, was unwilling to let me go. I became more and more
determined to travel, and my father and all my friends more and
more opposed to it. They said much to discourage me, but all
to no purpose; go I would, and go I did. My father at last con-
sented, though with great reluctance; and with his eyes suffused
with tears, watched me, as, with another discontented young man
of about the same age,' I went over the hill out of his sight, to
throw myself upon a world of strangers.
“South Carolina was the place I had in view. A vessel was
about to sail from one of the seaports of Connecticut to Charles-
ton; and with ten dollars I procured a passage in the steerage,
and was immediately floating over the Smooth waters of Long
Island Sound. But how was it about money for the payment of
travelling expenses in general 2 I have told you already that I
procured a passage at the cheap rate of ten dollars. I had also
twenty silver dollars more in my pocket, which my father had
suffered me to earn for myself, - for he did not believe in actually
giving boys money; but what were twenty dollars to set out with
on a journey of one thousand miles 2
“Our passage, though slow, was prosperous enough, at first.
We had, indeed, a squally time in passing through Hurlgate.
The waters foamed and roared and whirled among the rocks;
enough almost to frighten old sailors; but we passed safely on,
1 His cousin, A. Bronson Alcott.
ANA’. A ZCO 7'7"'.S. SOUTHEACAV ZTRAAE. I9 I
and were soon at the wharves in New York. There we were
allowed to land, but charged not to stay long, as the vessel would
sail again shortly. We returned several times, but the vessel
continued at anchor; and at last we grew careless, and being de-
lighted in viewing the city, we stayed so long that we narrowly
escaped being left on shore. Just at dark our captain set sail.
But the wind was unfavorable, and we could not get out of the
Bay. We tried a long time, – till near midnight, — when we gave
it up, and anchored in a safe place till morning.
“In the morning the wind was fair, and we set sail again. We
soon lost sight of New York, Staten Island, Long Island, Sandy
Hook, and New Jersey shore, and were in the main ocean. Not,
however, till the vessel had struck on a sand-bar in passing out of
New York Bay, and received some injury.
“Trouble now arose. The passengers began to be sea-sick,
and myself among the rest. By sunset nearly every one was con-
fined to the steerage, where the paleness and heaving and vomit-
ing of forty persons made the place seem more like a hospital
than a sleeping-room. I slept little that night, as you may guess.
But the wind blew strong, and wafted us on at the rate of ten miles
an hour, at the least. This continued all the next day, so that by
the second evening we were in the latitude of Cape Charles and
Cape Henry, in Virginia. But we were not near them. We were
a great way off, at sea; our captain having stood off from the
land or purpose.
“But I must tell you a little about our floating house, and the
I92 AVE W COAWAVEC 77CUT,
family with whom we boarded. The vessel was a schooner, —
the ‘Enterprise.” Our captain owned her, but was going to the
South to sell her; and so took passengers for Charleston to de-
fray, in part, his expenses. The passengers were forty or fifty
young men, most of whom were going to work on a canal near
Columbia, S. C. The ‘Enterprise ’ was a dull sailer, and when
the wind was not fair, would hardly move. The officers were all
very ignorant men, except one, and the captain would not hearken
to him. Our provision was bad; some of the meat was almost
spoiled; but if we complained to the captain, it only made him
angry. Most of us put up with it and said nothing, especially as
we were so dreadfully sea-sick that we did not wish to eat any-
thing. Some, however, continued to complain, and this kept the
captain in a fretful mood toward the whole of us. But what
grieved me most was, that he would vent his displeasure toward
us on the poor cabin-boy. Once I saw him seize him by the collar
of his jacket, and then kick him down from the quarter deck with
such violence as to leave the jacket in his hand. -
“At evening, the second day of our voyage, the sea became very
rough, and the wind blew from a less favorable quarter. But our
vessel, though dull, was dry. As we had to make our way against
the strong current, and the wind was unfavorable, we made little
progress, Though I slept quietly enough this night, yet I rose
once or twice and crept upon deck to view the ocean. What
a scene ! The vessel seemed to be actually ploughing her way
through huge piles of red-hot coals and embers. To see water
VOYAGE OF 77HAZ AZCOTZ.S. I93
thus sparkling like fire was, to me, a most novel affair. Some
naturalists say that the appearance is owing to small animals
which, like the glowworm and fire-fly, are phosphorescent.
“Sometimes the sea was calm, and then we used to amuse our-
selves by looking at the dolphins, which came round the vessel as
thick, almost, as a swarm of bees. These, you know, are among
the most beautiful fish in the world. Several times, during our
voyage, large schools of porpoises gambolled round the vessel,
sometimes leaping so far out of the waves that we could see
them in their entire length. They are a large fish, but rather
clumsy-looking.
“Birds, apparently much fatigued, sometimes alighted on our
vessel. One was a hawk. He seated himself at mast-head, and a
sly sailor went softly up the ropes and caught him in his hand.
While sitting on deck one day, a small bird came and perched
upon my knee. When I put out my hand to take it, away it flew,
and alighted among the rigging.
“The wind continued unfavorable, and we went on heavily.
Many of the company spent their time in playing cards; but for
this I never had any relish. I never knew the names of a pack of
cards in my life. As to reading, I found it difficult to read among
such a crowd of passengers. To go upon deck and see the sun
rise and set in the water afforded me but little pleasure. We had
one amusement, however. There were musicians on board, and
sometimes, in the evening, when the wind was not too violent,
they used to go upon deck and play us a kind of serenade.
I94 AVAE W COAVAWAEC 77GO/7.
“At length we found ourselves in the latitude of Cape Hatteras,
in North Carolina. This is a stormy place. Many sailors say
they never passed it except in a thunder-storm ; and though
it was the middle of October, it thundered and lightened when we
passed it, but the storm was not severe.
“After being out of sight of land ten days and eleven nights
the captain told us we were not far from Charleston, and presently
we saw a point of land. But so ignorant was our captain of the
coast, that he did not know exactly where to steer for the harbor,
and we were “off and on ’till it was near night; and though the
colors were set for a pilot, it was so late that none arrived, and we
were soon enveloped in darkness. Nor was this the worst. A
gale came on, and we were driven off the coast, a long way, toward
Bermuda. But the wind abated, and after a day or two we found
ourselves again approaching Charleston. Having procured a
pilot, we were conducted safely into the harbor.
“While we were in Charleston, gazing about alone, we were
beset with many of those temptations to evil to which young men
glowing with curiosity, who have never before visited a city, are
peculiarly exposed. But we remembered a word of advice which
we used to read in a celebrated School-book, “every one should mind
his own business,’ and gave heed to it; and it was well we did.
For thus, after being preserved by our kind Father in heaven
from shipwreck at sea, we escaped a worse than shipwreck on the
land I
“But now we wished to go to Columbia, – about one hundred
A RAE/VAZ ZAV CA/AAC/CA.S. 7'O/W. I95
and twenty miles to the northwestward. There were no stages; and
the steamboat which ran between the two places had to perform a
very circuitous journey; and besides, the fare was very high. There
were many different roads; but they all went through a flat, marshy
country, much of which at this season was covered with water,
sometimes to the depth of several feet. Those who attempted to
walk found it difficult, and were, in some instances, obliged to
swim. Besides, each of us had a travelling trunk, as well as
other baggage. We finally adopted the following plan.
“There were many countrymen in Charleston who had come
down from the upper country to market with large wagons loaded
with cotton, who made it their business to carry back such loading
as they could obtain. But they seldom carried travellers them-
selves. Indeed, there were usually no room nor accommodations.
We could do no better than to put our baggage into their wagons
and travel along with them, and fare as they did. Toward sun-
set of the third day after our arrival in Charleston we set out on
our journey. I was so feeble, after my long sea-sickness, that I
could but just drag myself along; but my friendl was in better
health, and did much to encourage me.
“Our caravan made a very sorry appearance. It consisted of
several wagons, – some drawn by mules, and others by horses.
The wagons were very large and heavy, and covered with a coarse
cloth. Each was under the care of two persons, a man and a
boy. They were of Dutch descent, and lived near the Santee
1 Bronson Alcott.
196 AVE W COAVAWAEC 7TWCOT.
River, beyond Columbia. Several pairs of horses or mules were
harnessed to each wagon, and one beast to each wagon wore bells.
One of the drivers — sometimes the boy, and sometimes the man —
rode one of the horses, while the other trudged along on foot, at
his side. My companion and myself followed behind, – now mus-
ing on our condition, now, perhaps for the first time after we left
home, casting a thought back to the land of our fathers.
“It was growing dark. ‘Where are we to put up 2' asked my
companion and I, as modestly as we could. — ‘We shall soon
come to the camping-ground,’ said our Dutchman. To the ‘camp-
ing-ground' we accordingly soon came, — about five miles from
Charleston. Our teams were driven into a large, thick pine
grove, a little way from the roadside, where the ground was
tolerably dry, and arranged in a sort of circle around a spot that
looked like a place where they had been accustomed to burn
charcoal. We soon learned that it was a spot where travellers
were accustomed to lodge or encamp, and, when the weather was
cold, to build fires. While part of the company unharnessed
and fed the horses, the rest went in pursuit of fallen wood for
fuel. They soon collected a quantity of dry pine, – lightwood,
or light'ud, as they called it, — and built a huge fire. Then they
took from their wagons a kettle, and made some coffee, – for the
Southern people, many of them, can hardly make a meal, as they
imagine, without coffee. Having regaled themselves with corn-
bread (hoe-cake) and bacon, and drank their coffee, º the next
thing was to prepare their beds. Each wagon carried a feather-
CAMP/MG IAV CARO LAWA. I97
bed and a blanket. They spread the blanket on the ground and
lay down upon it, and then covered themselves with the bed. This,
thought I, is an odd way of doing business; but I soon found it
was the custom of the Dutch people in that part of the country,
generally, to sleep under the feather-bed instead of upon it.
“You will wonder why these people slept out in the woods.
It was for three reasons: First, there were no public-houses, or
next to none, on the road. Second, it was so very sickly in this
low country that autumn that it was almost impossible to get
accommodations in a private dwelling. Third, the honest Dutch-
men wanted to be economical and save their money.
“While my companion and I were half disposed to smile at the
oddity of their arrangements, the question came across our minds,
Where are we to sleep 2 We ventured to ask counsel of our
Dutch friends. They would gladly have allowed us to sleep with
them, but a single feather-bed would not serve as a covering for
more than two persons. So they advised us to collect pine-
needles — the dried leaves of the pine — and make ourselves a
bed of them. Necessity compelled us to follow their advice, and
we soon collected a large pile, and laid ourselves down for repose.
“We rose early in the morning, not because we were suffi-
ciently rested, but because it was time to prepare for our journey.
After eating a few mouthfuls of breakfast, we went to the “spring’
and drank some water. Almost all the water in this part of the
United, States is very bad, being muddy or half stagnant; and
what the people call “springs’ are nothing but places in some
198 AEW COMAWAEczyczyz,
brook or creek where the water has motion enough to render it
clear. We had taken a quantity of ginger with us to mix with our
water to prevent its injuring our stomachs.
“When our company and their horses and mules had break-
fasted, and everything was in readiness, we resumed our jour-
ney. When we first began to move, I was so weak that I thought
I could not possibly walk a mile. But having dragged myself
along one mile, I found myself no worse for it; so I persevered
through the day, and we travelled about twenty miles. Our
Course was through a flat country, half-wilderness and half-culti-
vated, with here and there a small cotton or rice field, and occa-
sionally, at long intervals, a house. We slept in the fields or
woods five nights before we reached Columbia, and always by a
fire composed of pine knots, logs, or limbs.
“The greatest curiosities in all Carolina are the immense
fields of cotton. A large field just ripe enough for picking—that
is, when the pods are burst open — is a beautiful sight. Before
we reached Columbia we saw fields containing several hundred
acres, and the slaves were collecting it. The weather was chilly,
and they had fires in the old stumps, which were smoking like so
many chimneys, and the slaves were shivering round them. The
colored people cannot bear the cold so well as the whites.
“The country through which we passed was almost level till we
were within a mile or two of Columbia. In some places w WalS SO
overflowed with water that we were obliged to wade a quarter of
a mile at a time, at a depth of from two to twelve inches. Some-
AXA'. AZCO 7'7"?.S. SOUTHERAV ZºZº. I99
times, however, we could avoid the water by walking on logs or
fences, or by clinging to the wagons. But we nowhere found the
water in the road deep enough for swimming.
“We reached Columbia about noon. This is a pleasant place,
being much more elevated than the rest of the country around it,
and pleasantly laid out in squares. It is a plain of two or three -
miles in extent, sloping off gently on every side. The town was
not large. I did not stay long in it. They were just at this time
building a canal around the falls of the Saluda River, just above
the town, and some of my Northern friends were at work there.
So, in company with my travelling companion, I paid them a
visit, and spent the night there.
“We left our friends early in the morning, and proceeded west-
ward, toward Newberry. Instead of a swampy, marshy country,
or a mere succession of sand-hills, as it had been before, we now
came into a pleasant hilly country, not unlike the Northern
States.
“We stopped during the night at a place called Spring Hill, -
not at a public-house, for there was none there, — but with an
aged Dutch physician, whose name was Adam Schmitz. He re-
ceived us kindly; gave us plenty of soup for supper, and a good
feather-bed for a covering. We slept well, had soup again for
breakfast, with a little sour milk and some cold Indian bread;
and after breakfast we proceeded on our journey.
& 6 This day we passed through Newberry. This is a decent
little 'village, forty-three miles from Columbia, and nearly one
2OO AVAE W COAVAWECTYCU 7.
hundred and sixty from Charleston. Here are a court-house
and several shops and stores. Newberry was the only place, ex-
cept Columbia and Granby, that could be called a village, which
we had seen in South Carolina.
“One thing used to amuse us, which was the school-houses and
schools. In the midst of the woods, and often distant from any
road, you would find a log school-house. In it you would see
through the door or through the crevices between the logs a num-
ber of boys stalking around, a few sitting out of doors, with their
slates, and perhaps one or two others at the spring procuring
Water.
“I said they were stalking about in the house, but some of
them were sitting. Occasionally a class would be called out to
spell. They did not spell very well, but we were most amused
with their pronunciation. Q, they called cufe, as some people do
at the North even now. Z, they called izzard, or eezzard. Thus
in spelling ‘gizzard,’ they would say g-i-izzard-GIZ ; izzard-a-r-d-
zARD, GIzzARD. Some schools, it is true, were much better than
others; and we sometimes found — perhaps once a week — a
pretty good school-house.
“The churches were little better than the school-houses. Like
them they were often in the woods, made of logs, and had no floors.
The seats were benches made of planks. They were usually
small, -seldom accommodating more than two or three hundred
people. It will of course be understood that I am speaking all
this while of country places. In the cities and villages qf the
.SOUTHERAV AC/VAEA’S AAW/D BAC/ZXGA.S. 2O I
Southern States they often have tolerably good buildings of every
kind, especially churches.
“There is one difficulty which travellers on foot in the Southern
States are obliged to encounter, and it is a very serious one.
There are seldom any bridges over the rivers and creeks, and
footmen are often obliged to wade through these streams. At
some places there are, indeed, ferries; but at others there is
nothing.
“Though it was now about the middle of November, and
consequently rather cold, we waded through several consider-
able streams. The water, however, was usually shallow. Even
the Neuse, in North Carolina, a considerable river, —though we
crossed that in a boat, — was almost fordable. We waded through
Lynch's Creek, Little Lynch's Creek, Black River, and several
smaller streams.
“One night, sometime after dark, we came to a stream where
there was neither ferry nor bridge, and we were uncertain about
the depth of the water. Had it been daylight we might have
judged pretty correctly in regard to it. We hesitated. We were
anxious to go farther, as it was not very dark, and we were not
yet very much fatigued; and yet we dared not quite venture. So
at last we went back a considerable distance to the next house.
“Here we endeavored to gain admittance, but were attacked
furiously by the dogs. At last, with the help of the slaves, we
succeeded in getting into the house; and after some hesitation,
we were permitted to stay till morning.
2O2 AVE W COA/AWAEC 77CUT.
“The family was large, and the house small. It had but one
room, and, like many houses in that part of the Union, WaS
without a floor. There were but three beds. One of them was
occupied by the gentleman’s son and ourselves, another by some
of the children, and the third by the parents. The rest, with
Several young slaves, slept around the fire, which was at a remote
corner of the room.
“In the morning, after breakfast, the gentleman went with us
to the creek, and taking us, one at a time, behind him on his horse,
carried us safely across it. For all his trouble I do not remember
that he charged us anything; if he did, it was a mere trifle. The
Southern people are very kind and hospitable to travellers. One
reason may be that they see but few of them; for they do not
usually live near the roads, but at a distance in the fields, and
strangers seldom call on them.
“We were soon within the limits of North Carolina. We
stopped, the first night after we arrived in that State, at Peter
May’s. “You can throw a rock from my porch into South Caro-
lina,” said our good-natured landlord; and so we could, for it
was only a few rods. However, by a rocé he only meant a small
piece of rock, or a stone. He only expressed himself according to
the custom of the country.
“From Peter May's we came on toward Fayetteville. There
was little to be seen which interested us much, and I have, of
course, little to describe. For many miles before we reached
Fayetteville we went through a sandy and thinly-inhabited coun-
AVOA’7”H AAV/D SOUTH CAA’O/C/AVA. 2O3
try. Sometimes we travelled eight or ten miles without finding a
single house. When we came to one, it was usually a miserable
log hut, consisting of only one room, and without a floor.
“Many of the people of this region are Scotch. They appear
to be very poor. The best food we could usually get was Indian-
corn bread, or as they call it, “hoe-cake,” venison, a little honey,
and a tumbler of sour milk. The latter, however, was intended,
not for food, but for drink.
“At length we reached Fayetteville. It was pleasing to see a
‘town' once more. Fayetteville, at that time, contained three
thousand five hundred inhabitants and many very good buildings.
Among these were a court-house, a town house, an academy, a
masonic hall, three banks, and three houses for public worship.
But most of these buildings, together with most of the dwellings,
have been destroyed since that time by a great fire, though the
place has been in part rebuilt. The town is regularly and hand-
somely laid out, and the principal streets are one hundred feet
wide, – that is, as wide as the south part of Washington Street, in
this city (Boston), which everybody who has seen it knows to be
one of the finest streets in the country.
“We did not stay long in Fayetteville. We crossed the Cape
Fear River on a fine bridge about a mile from Fayetteville. The
river here is very dark-colored, and apparently very deep; but it
is rather narrow. It is, however, a noble river. Steamboats come
up here from Wilmington, which is eighty or a hundred miles
below.
2O4 AVE W COMAWEC 7TWCUZ.
“The next place of any note which we saw was Tarborough.
It stands on the Tar River, and contains perhaps one hundred
houses; but it does not appear to be flourishing. It is about
sixty miles eastward of Raleigh.
“We arrived in Norfolk, which, as you know, stands on
Elizabeth River, about eight miles from its entrance into Hamp-
ton Roads, and contains about ten thousand inhabitants. At the
time of our arrival, however, it contained only eight thousand five
hundred. It is not a city, but is a borough. It contains several
churches, two or three banks, a theatre, a marine hospital, an
academy, an orphan asylum, and an Athenaeum. It also contains
many good dwelling-houses, especially in the northern part of the
borough ; but the houses generally are not elegant, and some of
the streets are low and dirty.
“Well, we were in Norfolk; but where should we go? I was
not quite destitute of money; I had about thirty dollars. If we
went to an expensive public-house to stay, however, this would
not last long, and as yet we knew of no employment by means of
which we could earn anything more. We asked ourselves and
each other again and again where we should go. At last we
decided. -
“There lived in the borough, in one of the lower and more
dirty streets, an elderly gentleman from the North, who kept a
grocery store and a few boarders. He was a kind old gentleman,
but not very respectable, — though I did not know the last cir-
cumstance till some time afterward. My friend knew it, but,
AVOA’APOZA /W 1820. 2O5
destitute of money as he was, he seemed to overlook it. After
some deliberation we concluded to board with the old gentleman,
whom, for the present, I shall call Mr. Brown.”
This description by Dr. Alcott seems to have been written
before 1850; and, of course, long before the Civil War, which
raged about several of the towns traversed by the two cousins in
1820.
NotE 52, p. 77.
The following letter from Bronson Alcott describes the journey
from South Carolina to Virginia : —
“NoFFOLK, Dec. 5, 1820.
“DEAR PARENTs, – You will be surprised on reading this letter
to learn we are here in Norfolk (instead of Carolina), and thinking
of taking to peddling, rather than teaching, as hoped when we
left home. But on finding that employment likely to prove un-
profitable, we made the best of our way across North Carolina to
this old stand in Norfolk. We were fourteen days on the road,
walking all the way, and sending our trunks round hither by
water. I had hoped never to undertake peddling again, but
it seemed our best resource under the present circumstances, and
now that we are here. The business is new to my companion
(William A. Alcott); but he acquiesces, and will try his hand at it
instead of teaching, in which he has been so successful at the
North. We purpose leaving here in a day or two, taking my
2O6 AVEW COMAWAECTICUT,
familiar route by Hampton, Yorktown, Gloucester, and the North-
ern counties. My cousin, Thomas, is now here in Norfolk. I
wrote from Newberry Court House, which I trust you have
received.”
In a note written many years later, Mr. Alcott says: —
“I find Norfolk was first incorporated as a town in October,
1705, in the fourth year of Queen Anne. It then had a consider-
able population, its position being favorable for trade. St. Paul's
Church, giving name to the street on which it stands (Church
Street), is an antique structure, with its graveyard facing the street.
Near this church was the pedler’s stand of the Tisdales, from
Southington, Conn.”
This makes Norfolk a modern town in comparison with some
of the Virginia settlements. Among those visited by young
Alcott was Smithfield, of which he says: —
“One of the oldest churches now existing in the United States
is that near Smithfield, Isle of Wight County, Va. It was built
in the reign of Charles I., between the years 1630 and 1635. The
brick, lime, and timber were imported from England. The timber
is English oak, and was framed in England; the structure is of
brick, erected in the most substantial manner; the mortar has
become so hardened that it will strike fire in collision with steel.
This church is now (1882) deserted, in the depth of the forest; but
its mason-work, where not exposed to rain, is perfectly sound.
There is a lofty tower, and the walls are overgrown with a deli-
cate network of vines.” \
ANA 7TES AAWD AE WEAVTS. 2O7
GENERAL NOTE TO PART THIRD.
At this point, in order to fix the succession of dates, and reca-
pitulate what has gone before, as well as what is to follow, the
Autobiographical Index made by Mr. Alcott about 1850 may well
be cited, for the first six-and-twenty years of his life : –
DATES AND EVENTS.
“ 1799. AVozember 29. Born at my grandfather’s, Captain John
Alcock's, in what was once Farmingbury Society, now Wolcott
township, New Haven County, Conn.
“I801–1804. Live at Potucko’s Ring, near my grandfather's.
In 1801 my brother, Chatfield, born.
“1805. Live at Colonel Richards', near Potucko’s Ring. My
sisters Pamela and Pamila (twins) born. I go to school in Baby-
lon district, a mile distant.
“1806–13. Live at Spindle Hill, or New Connecticut, my
father purchasing a place near my grandfather's. Engage in
farming and in my father’s shop ; also in studies at home and in
the district school, which I leave at the age of thirteen. Learn to
write with chalk on the kitchen-floor. Read ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’
and ‘Robinson Crusoe.” In 1812 began keeping a diary. My
companion and school-mate is William A. Alcox, and we organize
a juvenile library. Meanwhile are born my sisters Betsy and
Phebe.
“1813 (autumn). Live a month at Cheshire with my uncle, Til-
lotson Bronson, D. D. First see New Haven City and the Sound.
2O8 AVEW COMAWECTICUT.
“1814. Live at Ireland, in Plymouth, near Spindle Hill, and
work at clock-making. Continue my diary, and begin an episto-
lary correspondence with William Alcox. Read Young's ‘Night
Thoughts' and Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost; ? also read and transcribe
portions of Burgh’s “Dignity of Human Nature.”
“1815. January. Work at clocks in Bristol.
“February and March. Go to school to Rev. John Keyes, on
Wolcott Hill. Begin to read prayers and sermons to the Epis-
copalian congregation at Spindle Hill school-house on Sundays.
“May and June. Hand-peddling with my cousin, Thomas
Alcox, into Western Massachusetts. Saw Newgate and the States’
prison.
“September and October. Get subscribers for John Flavel's
‘Keeping the Heart’ in Western Connecticut and Duchess County,
New York.
“I816. In the spring distribute Flavel to the subscribers ; in
the autumn (seventeen years old) examined and approved as a
school-teacher. -
“1817. Engage, as heretofore, in farming and studies at Spin-
dle Hill. Have now borrowed and read all the books (down to
the almanacs and flying stationers’ leaves) that are to be had
in the neighborhood for many miles round. Continue my diary
and my correspondence with my cousin William, and of eve-
nings we meet sometimes and ‘cipher.” Reading the service
continues at the school-house on Spindle Hill and at Babylon On
Sundays. \
AXA 7TES AAWD E VEAV7S. 209
“1817. October. Live this month with my grandfather, Captain
Amos Bronson, at Riverside, in Plymouth, who was my godfather,
and gave me his name.
“ 1818. At home I assist in the farming and in plow and bas-
ket making, with private studies. In October I sail from New
Haven for Norfolk, Va. Fail of teaching, and begin travelling
into the districts about Norfolk peddling, reading at the planta-
tions, sometimes repairing a clock, and note my experience in my
diary. Return to Spindle Hill in May, 1819, bringing $80 to my
father. My brother James born during my absence.
“1819. June 12. My father raises a new house on the site of
the old one, in which we had lived since 1806. The family live
this summer in the shop. The old house was one and a half
stories, unpainted, with three rooms on the ground-floor, besides
a pantry and the “lean-to.” The chamber was one unpartitioned
store-room; the cellar entrance was through a trap-door in the
kitchen-floor. The kitchen was the largest and ‘living' room,
the place of all work, - cooking, eating, spinning, dyeing, etc.;
also for sitting and for my studies, – such as they were.
“Movember 18. Sail from New Haven with my brother Chat-
field for Virginia, and engage in travelling and hand-peddling,
as before, in the districts surrounding Norfolk. (My brother
returns to Spindle Hill in May with $65.) I read Lavater's
‘Physiognomy,” and Locke’s “Conduct of the Understanding.”
Come near being drowned in the James River near Williams-
burg while bathing; my companion, J. Cook, a pedler, being
/
2 IO AVE W COMAWEC 7/CU 7.
drowned. July 28, 1820, I return home with $100 for my father,
and engage in farming.
“1820. My brother Ambrose born. I study geography and
arithmetic with William A. Alcox. October 8, I sail with him
for Charleston; passage seventeen days.
“AVovember 2. At Newberry Court House, S.C., seeking school-
teaching.
“A)ecember 5. At Norfolk, Va., and about, peddling again, –
my companion with me. We have walked the distance from
Charleston to Newberry, and thence to Norfolk, since October
25.
“1821. February and March. Sick in Norfolk with typhus
fever.
“April. William leaves Norfolk for Connecticut.
“Şume. I leave Norfolk with Thomas Alcox, travelling by way
of the Northern Necks, Alexandria, Washington, Baltimore, and
Philadelphia, to New York City; there purchase a costly suit of
clothes, – the best in Broadway, 1– and wear the same, to the sur-
prise of my towns-people and the chagrin of my father and my
cousin William, to Spindle Hill, where I arrive in July. Read
Thomson’s ‘Seasons,’ and journalize in the spirit of this period
of gayety and extravagance. Now begin to write my name
‘Alcott,” instead of ‘Alcox,’ as my father wrote his ; the old
spelling being ‘Alcock,” and so my grandfather wrote, and some
of my uncles still. -
* See pages 88-90.
ANA 7TP2S AAWD E VEAVZ.S. 2 II
“ 1821. September. My father indorses my notes to J. T. Allyn,
of Norfolk, for $270, due him for goods."
“October. Leave home with Thomas Alcox and my brother
Chatfield, for Virginia, driving wagons bought at Berlin, Ct.,
with goods purchased at Meriden (on credit), and some clocks
also, -my father giving the horse. We journey South by land.”
Am at Alexandria in November, at Norfolk, Jan. 7, 1822, and
ride on horseback thence on a silver speculation. The costly
coat scorns peddling, and sinks money fast. Am at Richmond,
March 21. Peddling will never do, - neither pleasure nor profit
therein. -
“1822. April 7. At Norfolk, J. T. Allyn takes a bill of sale of
my horse, wagon, and goods on account; and on the 12th of April I
am at Warrenton, N. C., teaching penmanship, with fifteen pupils;
terms, $3. I read here Goldsmith’s ‘Vicar of Wakefield,’ and
Johnson’s ‘Rasselas.”
“June. Walk from Warrenton through the States to Spindle
Hill. I sleep one night in a tobacco house in Maryland, and
come, unshod, from Amboy to New York City on board the
steamer. Reach home with a sixpence only in my pockets, and
many penitences at heart.
“July, August, September. Labor on the farm, and study; also
read the service on Sundays. In October my cousin William
writes me a letter of expostulation which touches me tenderly, and
I Up to this time his sons had paid him $245 for their Virginia profits.
* See the Journal of Chatfield Alcott, on pages 229-234.
j
2 I 2 AVAE W COAVAWEC 7TWCU 7.
I resolve to do penance for my follies by trying peddling once
more, with hopes of retrieving my fallen fortunes.
“October 29. Leave home with Thomas Alcox, and journey
by land to North Carolina; Thomas furnishing horse, wagon, and
goods. I take a license for trading in Chowan County, N. C.1
“ 1823. January I. In Norfolk after goods. In February,
while I am in North Carolina, J. T. Allyn's store was burnt, with
his partner, Talbot, whose ashes were found and deposited in an
urn with funeral honors.
“March and April. Have a good deal of intercourse with Friends
in Chowan and Perquimans Counties. Read Penn’s “No Cross,
No Crown,” Barclay's ‘Apology,’ Fox’s “Journal,” Clarkson's
“Portraiture of Quakerism,” William Law’s “Devout Call,” and
other serious books of like spirit. Copy passages into my diary.
The moral sentiment now supersedes peddling, clearly and finally.
“May. Ill with ague and fever at my friend Jeremiah Mixon's,
near Edenton, N. C. In June I sail from Norfolk for New York,
and reach home early in July, sallow and spiritless. Debts,
$600.2 -
“1823. August, September, October. At home, reading Cowper's
Poems, Hervey's ‘Meditations,’ and the New Testament. In
November am examined and approved as teacher for three months
1 He had evidently been among the Quakers here in 1821–22.
2 It seems, then, that the five years’ experiences in Virginia and the Carolinas
cost the young scholar the net sum of $420, - something less than a college COUlrSe
at New Haven would then have cost; but they were to him a liberal education.
AA 7'ES AAWD Aº VAZAVZ.S. 2 I 3
in the Fall Mountain district, in Bristol, three miles from Spindle
Hill, - wages, $10 per month and board.
“1824. March. Review my studies at home. In April, walk to
Paris, near Utica, N.Y. (where my brother Chatfield was living),
in hopes to engage in teaching in that neighborhood, but am
driven home again by an attack of ague and fever, to pass a shiftless
summer at my father's. In the autumn, teach a private class in
penmanship on Wolcott Hill (terms, $1 per course); and in No-
vember begin a five months’ term as teacher at the West-Street
school, in Bristol; wages, $15 a month and board about the
district.
“ 1825. April, May, and June. At Dr. Bronson's, in Cheshire.
I act as secretary to him in editing the ‘Churchman's Magazine; "
and in September canvass for subscribers in Western Connecticut.
Here, at my uncle's, I read Butler’s “Analogy,” Reid and Stewart's
Metaphysics, Watts's ‘Logic,' and Dwight’s ‘Theology.’
“In July and August I am at home to assist in the haying and
harvesting. In November I begin teaching the Cheshire Centre
district school, - boarding at my uncle's, Dr. Bronson's, – my
wages $18 a month. I read Vattel's ‘Law of Nations; ” and in
December visit my friend, William A. Alcott, — now a student in
the medical school at Yale College, – and purchase books for a
school library.”
This brings Mr. Alcott to the age of twenty-six, and the suc-
cessful beginning of his ten years’ course as a schoolmaster.
:
:
2I4 AVEW COMAWAEC 7:/CC/7.
NOTE 53, pp. 81, 82.
Letters of Bronson Alcott's in several years may illustrate this
passage, and the details of his life as a pedler: —
“NORFolk, VIRGINIA, November 30, 1818.
“HoNORED AND DEAR PARENTs, – Separated from you by a dis-
tance of near five hundred miles, imagination still pictures to itself
the festive board and cheerful fireside around which, animated by
your presence and that of my brothers and sisters, I have passed
many happy moments; and though now deprived of this pleas-
ure, I am quite well and contented. Something of chilliness, I
must confess, affected me on taking leave of you, along with the
feeling that I was not encouraged by either of you in my adven-
ture. But my resolution being formed, I persisted even against
your wishes, and thus far have no reason to regret it. I trust
you will not attribute this to youthful curiosity, or a roving
disposition.
“We set sail from New Haven on Tuesday, the 13th of October,
at II o'clock, A. M., in the sloop ‘Three Sisters,” Captain Sperry,
and reached New York on Wednesday noon. The wind being
ahead, we lay off New York till Friday, the 16th, when we set sail
at sunset, and on Tuesday, October 20th, reached Norfolk, making
a passage of about seven days. I was sea-sick during most of the
passage, and took but little food. The captain was kind, and made
me as comfortable as possible. There were fifteen passengers,
mostly pedlers and workmen for Tisdale. The sloop was heavy
s & ſº
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g * , © © *
Q ge © &
AºA2Z)/D/E/AWG /AV VA’G//V/A. 2 I 5
laden with produce destined for the Norfolk market. My first
care on arriving at Norfolk was to find board and lodging, and as
the ‘Three Sisters’ would lie at the wharf some days, for dis-
charging her cargo, the captain allowed me to take my meals and
sleep on board for a few days, till I should find better accommoda-
tions. Mr. Tisdale offered me employment and board and lodg-
ings at his place of business, by which I was enabled to discharge
my obligations to Captain Sperry, and leave the sloop. My pas-
Sage money was eight dollars. While engaged as an accountant
with Tisdale, a gentleman from the country informed me that I
might obtain a school in his neighborhood, where young men from
the North were frequently employed as teachers. As teaching
was my object in coming South, I set out accordingly on foot for
Rempsville, distant about twenty miles from Norfolk, and applied
for a school. The parents were friendly, and about twenty schol-
ars were promised; I was to teach for three months, at five dollars
a quarter for each scholar, and, if my services were approved, to
continue for the year or more. But on application for board and
lodging I found no one could accommodate me, and I returned,
after making further inquiries for school-keeping in the surrounding
country. As the plan of teaching seemed to be impracticable, I
began on the 12th of November peddling about the city, purchasing
my tin-wares of Tisdale at his shop on Church Street. The busi-
ness is profitable, and I am still pursuing it till something more
desirable offers. Peddling is not what I came for and desired, but
I am unwilling to be idle meanwhile. -
2 16 AVE W COAVAWEC 77CO 7.
“I wish you would write how your crops come in, whether you
purpose building a new house in the spring, and how my friend
William Alcox succeeds in his school-keeping. I wish my brother
would also write, and if he can be spared, attend Mr. Keyes’ school
for a quarter at least.
“I have the privilege of attending church on Sundays, and on sev-
eral evenings during the week. I generally attend some of these.
There is but one other person at Tisdale’s who accompanies me.
I think religion is less cared for here than with us. The Sabbath
is kept less strictly, and, I am sorry to find, no better by Northern
people than by Southern people.
“It is now late and my paper is full. Forgive, dear parents, my
faults, and accept the love of your unworthy son,
“AMOS B. ALCOX.”
“NORFolk, February 14, 1819.
“HoNoreD PARENTs, – I have this day received your affec-
tionate letter of the 22nd of January, and read it with emotions of
pleasure and satisfaction; particularly the account you give of
your health and family affairs, and that you are so well disposed
concerning my absence. I trust I shall be able to contribute my
mite towards the expenses of the new house, though I may be dis-
appointed in my winter earnings. I am well, and have enjoyed
myself as well as I could have done in farm labors at home; never
have four months been more happily passed. Money is more
AAEA)/O L/AWG WAV VIRG/WZA. 217
readily acquired here than at home, – a dollar as easily as a
quarter there, and may be as easily spent. But I have kept in
mind the lessons which I have received, respecting frugality and
economy, from my father.
“You will wish to learn further of my present employment and
prospects. I left Tisdale January 27, and began peddling fancy
articles, which I find more profitable and pleasant. I returned
last night from my first trip into Princess Anne County. I was
gone sixteen days, during which time my sales amounted to $111,
and at a good profit. I think I may continue in this business
till June, but will return sooner if you wish my assistance about
the spring farming. When I left Tisdale and settled my affairs
with him, I found my profits for the two and half months were $65.
Selling fancy articles is more agreeable than tin-wares about the
city. I hope to return to assist you about building of the new
house. I trust my winter's employment will prove a school of in-
struction to me, as you, dear father, suggest in your last. I am
confident, indeed, of its having been such, and in matters which
you have so frequently urged upon me, – namely, ambition and
perseverance, — without which (and industry), men seldom ac-
quire wealth. I think of you all daily, and particularly of my
little brother, with whom I parted so tenderly. My thanks to
dear mother and my brothers and sisters for their writing so
particularly.
“The winter thus far has been very mild and pleasant, only one
or two snows and a few days of severe cold. But there have been
2 I 8 AVAE W COMAWAEC 77GO/7.
frequent rains, and variable weather, rendering the walking muddy
and unpleasant for the time. +
“You all have a grateful place in my remembrance.
“Your affectionate son,
“AMOS B. ALCOx.”
“NORFOLK, January, 1820.
“DEAR PARENTS, - We have received your letter dated Decem-
ber 28. To hear that you were all well, prosperous in your affairs,
enjoying the fruits of your industry, I need not assure you, gave
us much pleasure. Our thanks are due to the Author of all good
gifts for such blessings. We have had fair success in our busi-
ness thus far, although the times are called ‘hard ” here in the
Old Dominion. I trust we shall make a profitable winter’s work
for you. Our profits from sales average about one third per cent
(33%), exclusive of our travelling expenses, which are slight, —
indeed, very little, save when we stay at the public-houses. At
my last trip along the James and York rivers I sold goods to the
amount of $150, and we are now here to renew our stock.
Wherever we travel we are treated with respect and most hos-
pitably entertained by the planters. Would you have a pict-
ure ? With our trunks at hand or ‘toting ' them at our side,
we find our way into the planters’ houses, and find the inmates
pleased to look inside of our box of trinkets; and they seldom
allow us to leave without putting gold and silver into our hands.
I take much satisfaction in conversing with the courtly planters
AAEA)/O Z/AWG ZAV VA262/AV/A. 2 I9
and their families. It offers a fine school for the study of man-
ners, and I gain information, as I pass along my tour, that books
could not have given. I wish to make my part respectable, and
though peddling is not the calling I would have chosen, I am
partly reconciled to it, for the benefits I gain in other particulars.
Honor, integrity, and perseverance are respectable in the humblest
of circumstances. We left home to assist our parents, and have
not repented of the choice.
“Your obedient son,
“AMOS B. ALCOX.”
“NoFFOLK, March 17, 1820.
“HoNORED PARENTS, -Your letters dated January 15 and 24
February are received. They came to us on our return here after a
five weeks’ trip into the country. You need have no concern for
us, for we meet with many (almost) fathers and mothers in our
travelling. The planters are hospitable, kind, and sociable. I
love to travel here in Virginia; it is a school of infinite value, and
my brother is already much improved in his manners by his inter-
course with better Society than he has been accustomed to meet
hitherto.
“Our business is becoming more profitable and extensive. I re-
plenished our trunks yesterday with $500 worth of goods, and we
purpose going in a few days to the Eastern Shore of Virginia, ex-
pecting to be gone from Norfolk six or seven weeks. On our
22O AVAE W COAVAWEC77CO/7.
return we shall hope to find letters from you, and then you shall
hear further from us.
“Your dutiful sons,
“AMOS B. ALCOx.
“CHATFIELD ALcox.”
7 o W. A. Alcott.
“NoFFolk, March 19, 1820.
“DEAR FRIEND, - Agreeably to promise I now write, and am
happy in informing you of my present good health and spirits, and
to express my cordial good wishes for your welfare. . . . The
times are called ‘hard’ here in the Old Dominion, but, from
what I learn, are better than in the ‘land of steady habits.” 1
Yet if the pedlers from that section of the country are calculating
on large profits this season, they must manage their affairs with
prudence and economy, or they will fall far short of any anticipa-
tion of that kind. Considering the times, we are as successful as
we expected to be. Wind and weather favoring, we take passage
to-morrow for the Eastern Shore of Virginia, expecting to be ab-
sent from Norfolk six or seven weeks. We take goods worth
about $500, which we purchase of the firm of Allyn and Anderson
with the privilege of returning what we do not sell. Pedlers have
become so numerous here that the late Virginia legislature passed
an act imposing a tax of $80 on pedlers of dry goods, and of $40
* Connecticut was so called.
AE/D/DZZAVG ZAV V/RG/MZA. 22 I
on tin-pedlers, – the act to be enforced on the 1st of next May.
Whether hand-pedlers like myself and brother will be called upon
for a license, I wait to learn.
“. . . I am not sure of my time of returning to the North; prob-
ably not till some time in the summer. I certainly am enjoying
my life here. Remember me to the young people of my acquaint-
ance, and may we soon meet again
“Sincerely yours,
“A. B. ALCOx.”
“NORFOLK, July 3, 1820.
“DEAR PARENTS,- Returning to Norfolk yesterday, I had the
satisfaction to find a letter from you, bearing date June 15, and I
answer it at once. I am in excellent health, and “heartier' than
is usual with me at this season of the year. I wish this may find
you so, with all other comforts suitable to your age and condition
in life. It is now July, and the heat has not been oppressive as
yet. The season is more forward here than in Connecticut. I
find by a memorandum of mine, we had,
May 12, ripe Strawberries.
“ 20, green Peas.
June 4, new Potatoes.
“ 13, Cucumbers.
“ 20, ripe Apples.
“ 25, Blackberries.
“ 28, Whortleberries.
222 AVAE W COMAWAEC 7/CO 7.
And the farmers are now weeding their corn the second time, and
reaping their wheat and oats. Once in a while, on passing a corn-
field, I am tempted to take the hoe (the huge Guinea hoe), and
show the slaves how the Yankees use it; and how to use the axe
also in chopping wood. They civilly own themselves beaten.
“I am now selling goods at wholesale, having left my trunk ped-
ling, going by water from place to place, and trading with the mer-
chants. I have been at Hampton, York, Smithfield, and purpose
leaving for Williamsburg in a day or two. To-morrow I attend
the Celebration of American Independence in this borough.
“I hope to sail for New York by the 28th of this month.
“Your affectionate son,
“AMOS B. ALCOX.”
Tt was not until 1821 that Bronson Alcott and his cousin wrote
their names in its present form, as mentioned on a preceding
page.
NoTE 54, p. 83.
The journeys of the Alcotts often took them through or near
the so-called “Dismal Swamp,” which Moore had seen and sung
twenty years before. They found it not as he pictured it, but a
pleasant, though solitary, region. Instead of being a receptacle
into which streams flow, it is in reality an immense reservoir that,
in its vast, sponge-like bulk, gathers the waters that fall and pours
AAEA) DL/MG VAV VA2 G.//V/A. 223
them into five different rivers. The swamp is entirely of green
timber. The two principal woods are the juniper and cypress,
which fall prone on the ground like other trees, but instead of the
wood decomposing it turns into peat, and lies for ages perfectly
sound. There is nothing in the swamp to create miasma; no rising
of the tides and decomposition of rank vegetation; no marshes
exposed to the burning rays of the sun. All is fresh and sweet;
and the air is laden with as sweet odors as the fragrant woods in
May, when the fragrance of the flowers mingles with the pungent
scent of the pine and dogwood. The air is pure, and the water—
tinged to a faint wine hue by the juniper — is as potent a medici-
nal drink as is to be found at the famous watering-places of
Virginia. It was often used by vessels going on a foreign cruise
on account of its healthful properties, and also because it keeps
fresh and clear for years. …'
NOTE 55, p. 84.
The diary of William Alcott gives the following account of this
illness, and the letter of April 3, 1821, continues the story.
AExtract from William A. Alcott's Diary.
“Aebruary 16, 1821. I arrived in Norfolk from Hampton, imme-
diately went to D. Barnes's, our lodgings in Water Street, and to
my great mortification found my friend Amos very ill in his bed.
I attended to him a little and then retired to rest.
224 AVAE W COA/AWAEC 7/CUT,
“Sunday, 18th. Amos no better, with severe pains in the head.
I attended his bed, as did also R. Burnham. Watched with him
this night.
“Monday, February 19. I remitted to J. T. Allyn $54 cash; also
attended friend Amos, who was no better. We gave him some
medicine, and on the morning of the 20th sent for Dr. Selden, who
came and gave him a dose of camomile and jalap. He came a
second time and concluded to send a young man to bleed him,
which was accordingly done. Toward evening the Doctor came
again, and afterwards sent a few papers of cooling powders.
“Sunday, February 25. Myfriend continues insane; he has, how-
ever, rested rather better than usual the last night, and I yet enter-
tain strong hopes of his recovery. Ten days of fever have been
worn away already.
“Aebruary 26. Amos appears more composed in mind and body;
but he is still very sick; his fever, which the Doctor calls typhus, is
violent, but less so than yesterday. I still hold out in health and
spirits.
“Aebruary 28. Amos is so much better that I begin to think of
peddling again.
“March I. I wrote a letter to his father to-day.
“Sunday, March 4. I heard Bishop Moore at Christ Church.
“March 12. I continued attending Amos not only this day, but
also the 14th, 15th, and 16th.”
AZZAVESS A 7" AVORA'OZA. 225
Mr. Alcott’s own letter to his mother was as follows : —
NORFOLK, April 3, 1821.
“DEAR PARENTs, – Your letters of the 18th February and March
18 came duly to hand. The former I did not know much of till
since my recovery. William read it to me during my illness, but it
made little impression, in my feeble and wandering condition, and
now seems fresh and new to me as I read it. My disease was typhus;
and my fever ran its usual course, confining me to my room for
twenty-five days, and leaving me feeble and much emaciated. But
I am gaining fast, and am now able to walk without support, and
have a strong appetite withal. Dr. Selden, a kind and skilful phy-
sician, attended me; he is most reasonable in his charges. And
most fortunately too, my good friend William took the best care of
me during the whole time; watching night after night, with only
occasional relief, and this too while suffering from most distressing
intelligence from home, the death of a dear sister, and of his
grandfather. I can never repay him for his kindness, nor be suffi-
ciently thankful in being blessed with so good and generous a
friend. And I am spared to bless Him “in whose hand our
breath is,’ for His gracious favor in raising me from this bed of
helplessness to comparative strength, and desire to serve Him in
the future. I am not sure that William informed you of the danger
till my fever abated and I began to recover. I remember request-
ing him to write to you.
“I am happy, dear mother, to learn of your returning health.
226 AVE W COAVAWAEC 77GO/7.
I now know what sickness is, myself, and can prize health as never
before. •
“My hand is yet unsteady, as you will perceive by my hand.
writing.
“Your affectionate son,
“AMOS B. ALCOX.”
Bronson Alcott wrote thus to his cousin William in March,
1823: — -
“MY DEAR FRIEND AND Cousin, – I am fortunately fallen
upon a good class of people dwelling here in the counties of
Chowan and Perquimans, N. C. Their plain manners and kind
dispositions are interesting to me, affording, as they do, a lively
contrast to the courtly manners and culture of the Virginians
at whose houses we were entertained. I find in their scanty
libraries books which I have read with much profit and pleasure,
—William Penn’s “No Cross, no Crown,” William Law’s ‘Seri-
ous Call,” Barclay's ‘History of Friends,’ Fox’s “Journal, Tuke's
volume, Cowper's “Poems,’ and other books of a serious charac-
ter. If I were bent on saving my soul, these volumes would be a
most wholesome incentive to that result. I do not mean by this
remark that I am disposed to accept in this respect the saying,
sometimes quoted by pedlers, that ‘peddling is a hard place to
serve God, but a capital one to serve Mammon.” I find I have
not served either to the best advantage, and wish I may find the
grace to amend my ways. I have enjoyed some of the pleas-
ures and profits of travelling, along these sandy roads, and in the
AZOAe 7'AºA2SS MOAVRO AE. 227
society of this simple people, living here beside their juniper
forests, in the midst of their pastures and fields, their flocks and
herds, and their old orchards.
“I have little to add concerning myself, unless it be restoration
to a degree of health and spirits for which I trust I am grateful.
Your acquaintances in Norfolk were well, and merry as ever when
I last saw them there.”
NOTE 56, p. 85.
Mr. Alcott's travels sometimes led him in sight of the then new
Fortress Monroe, since so famous, and of which the history is thus
given in his notes : —
“‘Poynt Comfort' was so named by the first settlers because
its friendly shelter ‘put them in good comfort' when driven there
for safety during a severe gale. Newport News was first known
as ‘Pernt Hope,” pernt being assumed to be a corruption of the
Celtic pen (promontory). The ‘ Poynt’ was originally an island,
and is now, when the heavy easterly storms drive the sea over
the strip of beach that unites it with the main-land. As early
as 1608 a fort was there, which appears to have been a temporary
affair, as in 1692 it was decided by the Colonial Assembly of
Virginia that Captain Samuel Mathews should undertake the
“raysing of a fort at Poynt Comfort.” The Soldiers’ Home
now stands on a plantation known as ‘Fortfield,’ from the work
there located more than two centuries and a half ago. Twelve to
228 AVE W COMAWEC 77CU7.
sixteen pieces of ordnance were mounted there in 1629, and in
I639 a tax was ordered to again rebuild the fort. When the
foundations of the present fortress were laid, -in March, 1819, -
the profile of the old ‘ffort” was discovered, and a signet ring was
found bearing the crest of the Barrons. During the Revolution a
battery was erected there by the allied forces of De Grasse and
the Continentals. The work went to decay after the Revolution,
and Point Comfort and Bush Roe beach became a romantic
solitude. The land on which the light-house now stands was
granted to the government Jan. 2, 1791, and the area of the fort
— two hundred and fifty-two acres — was added by Virginia,
March 1, 1791. Fort Monroe is supposed to have been planned
by General Simon Bernard, of the corps of engineers, formerly an
officer of Napoleon. The construction was commenced March,
1819, under Major Charles Gratiot, and the post named after the
then President of the United States.”
NoTE 57, p. 86.
The wanderings of the young pedler are not here very method-
ically described, but they took him through regions to which the
following notes refer, collected by Mr. Alcott in 1881–82 : —
“Westmoreland County has been called the ‘Athens of Vir-
ginia.’ Some of the most renowned men in America have been
born within its borders. Among these may be mentioned Wash-
ington, Richard Henry Lee, and the late Judge Bushrod Washing-
MO UAV 7" VERAVOAV. 229
ton. President Monroe was born at the head of Monroe's Creek;
Chantilly, situated upon the Potomac, now in ruins, was once the
residence of Richard Henry Lee. Upon the same stream, a little
further up, is Stratford, the family seat of the Lees for many
generations. The birthplace of Washington was destroyed pre-
vious to the Revolution ; it stood about half a mile from the
junction of Pope's Creek with the Potomac. The house was a
low, single-storied farm-building, with four rooms on the first
floor, and an enormous chimney at each end on the outside. This
was the style of the better sort of houses in those days, and they
are still occasionally seen in the old settlements of Virginia.”
“Mount Vernon is situated on the western bank of the Poto-
mac, sixteen miles south of Washington. It is elevated two
hundred feet or more above the river, which widens into a sort of
basin by a beautiful curve in its west bank opposite Mount Ver-
non. The river at this place is about two miles wide; the man-
sion is two stories high, of ancient style, strong and durable in its
construction and material; a porch fifteen feet wide, extending
to the eaves, paved with stone on the ground floor, runs the en-
tire length of the eastern or river front. On the west front of
the house is an extensive lawn, surrounded by a winding walk, and
shaded by a variety of forest-trees, flowers, shrubs, and ever-
greens, which are said to have been selected and planted by
Washington’s own hand. The levee below and the bank are
covered with a heavy growth of forest trees, which give it a
romantic aspect.”
230 AVEW COAVAWEC 77CO/7.
“King and Queen County contains residences of greater mag-
nificence than any in the State. On the Mattapony, a beautiful
stream, are the vestiges of many ancient and once highly improved
seats, among which are Laneville, Pleasant Hill, Newington, Moun-
tassise, Mantua, Rickatoe, White Hall, known as the residences
of the Braxtons, Corbins, Robinsons, etc.”
NOTE 58, p. 93.
Fxtract from Chatfield Alcott's journal of a 7%ift from Connecti-
cut to Virginia in 1821.
“Wolcott, AVoz. 7, 1821. Left home at nine o’clock this morn-
ing; went by way of Plymouth as far as Watertown, where we
stayed overnight. Our company consisted of myself and brother
(A. B. Alcott), cousins Thomas and Ephraim ; a Mr. Judd, from
Southington, joined at Watertown, – making five of us.
“ Zhursday, 8th. We left Woodruff's tavern, where we stayed
overnight, and passed through Woodbury to Southbury, New-
town, and Danbury, and stayed at a private house overnight.
We passed the Housatonic River.
“Aſyiday, 9th. This morning we entered York State at South-
east; thence we passed Patterson, and stayed in Fishkill. The
people seemed to be mostly Dutch. (In Putnam County.)
“Saturday, Ioth. We crossed into Newburgh and went on to
Salisbury and Washingtonville, where we stayed.
CHA 7F/EZ D AZCOTT'S /OURAVAZ. 23 I
“Sunday, 11th. Went on to Bloomington to breakfast, and from
thence through Chester and Warwick to Vernon, in New Jersey.
“Monday, 12th. Passed through Fame, Sussex Co., and put
up at a place called Logkill. Here we found Mr. Camp and Mr.
Curtis, from Plymouth, peddling Terry’s patent clocks.
“Tuesday, 13th. This day we passed Hope (Warren Co.
N.J.), and stayed at Easton, in Pennsylvania, at as fine a tavern
as I ever saw.
“Wednesday, 14th. We crossed the Delaware on a covered
bridge, and went on through Bethlehem to Allenstown, where we
stayed.
“Thursday, 15th. We passed on to Fitztown and Reading, — a
very nice place.
“A'ziday, 16th. Crossed the Schuylkill and passed Readsburg
to Adamstown, within nine miles of Lancaster, where we put up
at a tavern.
“Saturday, 17th. Passed Lancaster. This is the largest inland
town in the United States; it has twelve hundred inhabitants.
“Sunday, 18th. Passed York and put up at a small house.
“Monday, Igth. We passed Littlestown, and then came into
the State of Maryland, and stayed at Taneytown.
“Zºuesday, 20th. We passed through Woodstown and came
into Frederickstown, a village of seven hundred houses, and put
up about four miles beyond that place.
“Wednesday, 21st. This morning Thomas and Ephraim left
us and went up the river; Minor and Judd went across the river,
232 AVAE W COAVAVAZCZYCO/7.
and I and my brother came down the river about ten miles, and
put up.
“Thursday, 22d. We proceeded down toward Washington,
passed by the county Court House, and stayed overnight.
“Friday, 23d. We proceeded on to Washington City. The
Capitol is built of marble, and the President’s house is one mile
from the Capitol. Half a mile from the city is Georgetown.
There we cross the Potomac, and come on to Alexandria, where
we stay overnight.
“Saturday, 24th. Very rainy, and we stay in the tavern all day.
“Sunday, 25th. We leave Alexandria and come on to Mount
Vernon, and put up at a very good place.
“Monday, 26th. Passed on to Occoquan, and thence to Dum-
fries, and put up ; a very pretty place for Virginia.
“Zuesday, 27th. Passed on through to Stafford Court House,
and put up.
“Wednesday, 28th. We came through a poor country to-day,
and put up at a poor house.
“Thursday, 29th. We travelled four or five miles and put up
at a good house on the banks of the Potomac.
“A”iday, 30th. We went on four or five miles and put up at
an academy with one of the boarders.
“Saturday, ZXecember I. Went on ten miles, and put up over
Sunday at a good place.
“Sunday, 2d. We stayed at Mr. Parton’s.
“Monday, 3d. We parted this morning; Amos went down
CHA 7 FZEZZO ALCOZ’7”S /OURAWAZ. 233
the Neck and I went by the Court House, and down to the Rap-
pahannock. I expect to go to Norfolk in about three weeks to
get a better assortment.
“Norfolk, Va., Saturday, Jam. 5, 1822. My brother (Bronson
Alcott) came on from Hampton, having purchased a horse and
wagon for me, and left it in Westmoreland County. I have been
in Norfolk a fortnight.
“ Tuesday, 15th. I am at J. T. Allyn's, assorting goods with
my brother.
“Thursday, 17th. My brother went to Hampton with a horse
and wagon. I took property to the amount of $93.67. I am
going to Richmond, and expect to return here by the first of
March. Amos expects to be here again in a fortnight.
“Afriday noon, 18th. On board the packet for Hampton; once
more have I left my country and friends and come to Virginia to
travel in these lonesome woods. But I am glad; it was my own
choice, and glad am I, so far.
“Saturday, 19th. Left Amos at Hampton, and went to Mr.
Mallory's and put up. I am getting accustomed to the ways and
manners of the people, and like them better and better as I know
them better. But I shall never settle here ; the people have no
economy, nor industry, nor perseverance, nor care for much save
dissipation.
“Arriday, 1st February. Left Mr. Duval's, and proceeded on to
the Battery, where I heard of my brother, and that he was going
to Richmond in a fortnight, where I intend to be about that time.
234 AVE W COAVAWECTICUT,
“Zuesday, 5th. This morning my brother came to me, having
heard of me at Gloucester Court House, and thought it best for
me to go to Norfolk and come up again on Friday, and then go
to Richmond and make arrangements to go to the Northern
Necks of Virginia. I let my brother have $43, and he sends
$IOO worth of musk-rat skins by me. I found him well, and
no accident had happened to him.
“Wednesday, 6th. Left East River, and came in sight of the
light-house, when the wind fell away and we were becalmed some
time near the light-house. I am sometimes on the water in a gale,
and at other times in calm; sometimes on land with plenty to
eat and drink, and at other times in poverty, with nothing to
eat ; then sometimes with plenty of money, and sometimes not a
cent, — and so it is.
“Monday, 11th. Left Norfolk at nine this morning by the East
River boat, and reached Matthews at eleven o’clock, and stayed
on board overnight.
“ 7uesday, 12th. Left the packet and came on to the Court
House; and there met my brother (Bronson Alcott).
“Friday, May 22. I came to York, and passed over to Glouces-
ter, and went into the tavern, where I heard of my brother, who
was in pursuit of me, having just come from North Carolina, and
wishing to go home.
“Saturday, 23d. My brother came to me this morning with
ZTAZ WAZA FA2O// CAA’OZAVA. 235
f
James Allyn, and we went on to the Court House and from there
to Mr. Duval's, on the Pianketank, and put up.
“Sunday, 24%. Rainy in the morning; in the afternoon we
came on to Dragonville, and put up there for the night.
“Monday, 25%. Amos and I went on to a barbecue ; it being
court-day I got my wagon mended. Amos concluded to go home
on foot, and started about ten o’clock. I let him have $8.50 to go
With.”
NOTE 59, p. 98.
Between April 12, 1822, and May 15, or thereabout, Bronson
Alcott was in Warrenton, N. C., under the circumstances de-
scribed on pages 95–97. His brother Chatfield, on May 22, heard
of him as on his way from Warrenton to Wolcott; met him the
next day in Gloucester County, Va., and parted from him May 25
in King and Queen County, as above mentioned. In later years
Bronson Alcott wrote these notes of this
Walé from Warrenton to Wolcott.
“Wishing to pass unmolested on my way, and as speedily as
possible, I took the shortest route from Warrenton to the Northern
Necks of Virginia, where I hoped to find my brother. My slender
avails from my writing-classes were not sufficient to take me by
stage. As my brother was not then about returning home when I
met him, I set forth from Westmoreland on my journey north. It
was a long way, - the season sultry, the roads dusty; but a steady
236 AVAE W COAVAWEC ZYCO/7.
persistency and the safe goal in my eye kept me stepping along day
after day. I came late at the inns and was off early in the morning,
resting at times, and napping under the shade-trees, with my budget
for a pillow. At Baltimore I fell into the great road which I had
travelled once before with my cousin. On reaching Amboy, New
Jersey, to take the steamer, I found my boots were unmanageable,
and cast them into the dock. When the bell rang for the fare I
paid mine with the rest, but the steward presently returned it with
the captain's compliments. It was dusk when the steamer touched
the pier at New York, where the hackmen were. “Ride, sir?”
‘Carriage, sir?” No ; the gentleman in stocking-feet passed on,
and to the shoe-dealer's, and went thence shod as others are ; the
tailor, too, in Maiden Lane, mending his coat while he slept. The
next morning saw him on the packet-boat for Norwalk, whence he
walked through Bridgeport, Derby, and Waterbury on his way.
On reaching Spindle Hill there remained sixpence of the Warren-
ton moneys, and the invaluable experience it shall take years to
count for him.”
In the Autobiographical Index printed on pages 206–212, the
time of this walk is given as June, but it began May 18, perhaps,
in an early evening escape from Warrenton, and ended about June
Io at Wolcott.
The following letters relate to the year 1822; beginning with two
from Mr. Alcott's parents. -
t
AºA M/Z Y ZAZ 7"7TEA’.S. 237
Aºrome Mrs. Azzzza Brozzsozz Alcox.
“Wolcott, January 20, 1822.
“AFFECTIONATE SoN, - I received your letter unexpectedly,
and have abundant reason to be thankful that I have a son who
has so tender a regard for his father and mother, brothers and
sisters, and is always so willing to assist them, in everything that
he is able to do, with pleasure and satisfaction. And may that
disposition always live and grow in you ! I have great reason to
be very thankful that my health is still preserved, and that yours
and Chatfield's is also. I do not forget to praise the Lord for his
goodness in preserving you both on your journey, and your pros-
perity depends upon your putting your trust in that Being who
rules and governs all things. May He give you a disposition
to pray for each other, as you have had but very weak petitions
put up from a mother last winter, owing to my weak state of
mind.
“We are very lonesome this winter. Pamela is gone most of the
time from home, and Betsy and Phebe go to school. But we are
in peace, and have provisions of all kinds necessary for our com-
fort, and if you will come home, I will have my table spread with
the choicest we have, and what you best like.
“I leave you in the hands of Him who preserves us all.
“ANNA. ALCOX.”
238 AVE W COAVAWAEC ZZCOWZ".
From Mr. Joseph Chatfield Alcox.
“Wolcott, January 27, 1822.
“MY DEAR SONS,--I received your letter of the 19th very un-
expectedly, which brought the good news that you were both well
and contented. We are all well and live contentedly. After you
left home, I repaired my porch and made ready for winter. I have
been busily engaged in taking care of my cattle. I have a good
pile of wood; my threshing is all done. We have had very little
Snow, but good sleighing most of the time. I do not go out in the
cold but very little, but take care of my cattle and make boxes. I
think of you both every day, and offer my prayers for your success
in business, for preservation of your health, and that you may be
guarded from the evils that so easily beset us all, and run the
Christian race with patience and fortitude. Be prudent and in-
dustrious, persevere in well-doing, so that you may look to God.
for his blessing. “Your father
“Joseph C. ALcox.”
78 Chaffield Alcott.
“PETERSBURG, November 24, 1822.
“DEAR BROTHER,- I avail myself of this means to inform you
of my present adventure and prospects. Cousin Thomas is with
me. We left home on the 27th of October, and reached here last
evening. Our purpose is to leave in a few days for North Caro-
AºAM/Z V ZAZ 7'7"E.R.S. 239
lina, and take out licenses for trading in the counties of Perqui-
mans and Chowan, near Edenton. I shall hope to meet you in
Norfolk, or at least hear from you at New Year’s.
“Dear brother, I have plans to retrieve my fortunes, and make
some money to pay my debts. I have seen the folly of my past
extravagance, and hope you will take timely warning by my ex-
ample. A young man at twenty-three should have learned his
lesson at less cost than I have. Our father's counsels were wise,
and I, at least, should have taken the consequences of my folly,
and spared his anxieties and embarrassments. Do you say this
advice, these cautions sound singular from me? Well, prudence
is a duty; we must not squander other people's money for such
costly outfits as I have done. You have been less extravagant
than myself, but the best of us may be led astray, as I have been
by others, weak and half-willing as I was. Pray think of these
things in time, and spare our parents and friends at home further
troubles. I wish you would send my books, as soon as you can
reach them at Loudon, to the care of B. Tisdale, Norfolk, where
I hope to meet you at New Year’s.
“Your brother,
“AMOS B. ALCOX.”
NOTE 60, p. 99.
We have this account, perhaps a little overdrawn, of the seat of
the Pages, at which the young pedlers called : —
“One of the noblest ancient homes of the Old Dominion is
24O AVE W COMAVECTICUT.
Rosewell House, in Gloucester County. Looking at the massive
grandeur of the high cube-like structure, you are compelled to won-
der how, even in monarchical and aristocratic times, the expenses
of such an establishment could be supported. It stands like an
old English castle in solitary grandeur, a striking memento of the
days when the Virginian aristocracy was the noblest in the land. It
is built of bricks, every one of which was imported from England.
The roof is flat, and was originally covered with heavy lead over
the shingles. Richly carved mahogany wainscotings and capi-
tals and stairways adorn the interior, and its situation is beauti-
fully romantic. A few old trees, remnants of a noble grove, are
standing in the rear, and in front spreads a fair, wide lawn stretch-
ing down to the banks of the York, of which a glorious view is
obtainable from the roof of the mansion. Rosewell House was
formerly the seat of the Pages, – a distinguished family, some of
whose members have at various times filled the highest civil and
military offices of the Old Dominion. The mansion was built by
Mann Page, grandson of Sir John Page, the original founder of
the family in the New World. He was probably the wealthiest
landholder of his time in Virginia, with the single exception of the
Fairfaxes. He united in his person the rich inheritances of the
Manns and the Pages. His landed estates were scattered over
every portion of the State. He had eleven thousand acres, called
Pageland, in Prince William County, eight thousand acres in
Frederick, forty-five thousand in Spottsylvania, an estate called
Pampike of one thousand acres in King William, two thousand in
7TA/A AA GA2S OF V/A2G/AV/A. 24. I
Hanover, fifteen hundred in James City, besides others elsewhere,
and the magnificent plantation on the York River to which Rose-
well gave its name. His heirs sold some of this land at various
times to liquidate certain debts; but the Pages of Rosewell were
always among the foremost citizens of the colony. John Page,
the grandson of Rosewell's founder, was governor of Virginia in
r802. Representative to Congress, judge, and a friend of Jeffer-
son, he was distinguished for talents and patriotism, and fulfilled
his numerous trusts with fidelity and honor. He died in 1808,
and his son was the last of the name who ever inhabited
Rosewell.”
NOTE 61, p. Ior.
Reaching Wolcott in the manner here described, Bronson Alcott
again meets his wiser cousin, William, and benefits by his coun-
sels. The following verses seem to describe his life in the summer
of 1822 : —
“Adventurous Instinct, Life's auspicious bird,
Lured us far forward, with unsated zest;
Anon her swift wings, by Fate undeterred,
Convey us homeward to the native nest.
“Now in this graver cousin's company
Past fortunes and misfortunes we’ll renew;
Recall those follies penitentially,
And earliest studies further will pursue.
242 AVAE W COAVAVAEC Z.Z.CO/7.
“So book and journal occupy his hours,
While in farm-labors he short respite gains,
Save when the drooping cloud sheds tearful showers,
Or when from lathe and chisel he refrains.
“Enticed from home and often led astray
By old illusions, till the insidious slip, —
Henceforth our pilgrim would his wit display
In village Schoolmaster's apprenticeship.
“His town shall see the writing-master's hand,
Since he must children teach to wield the quill,
Not now far off, in luckless Southern land,
But yonder, at the Store, on Wolcott Hill.”
The first essay at regular school-keeping has been made in the
neighboring town of Bristol, where also his cousin William was
teaching near by. Of this and of his school in Cheshire, Mr.
Alcott writes : —
“There in the vale clasped by o'erhanging hills,
On thrifty Bristol's narrow, populous street,
Where the bridged streamlet turns its busy mills,
The young Schoolmaster shall his pupils greet.
“Across the brook, in sight, that early friend 1
Gathers his pupils 'neath the village spire;
Enthusiasts both, we punctually attend
Bright wits to kindle, build our morning fire.
1 William Alcott, whom Sonnet I., in Part II. of the “Sonnets and Canzon-
ets,” describes.
7A/AE CA/ESA///èA2 SCA/OO.Z. 243
“Not to this narrow neighborhood confined,
Their lighted torches shine a longer way, -
Taught less from books than from the living mind,
Their cordial methods now find annple sway.
“Short time shall pass ere rumor's windy tongue
May blow applauding accents far and near,
Loud shall the teacher’s native art be sung,
And his new notions, lively, fresh, and dear.
“While o'er prim Cheshire's academic Green,
With well-filled satchels dangling at their side,
The glad ambitious boys and girls are seen,
The school their pleasure and their parents’ pride;
“Not to mute pages at the desk confined,
Vague repetitions of Some ancient text,
But frolic and fair learning are combined, –
Much is the pupil taught, the pedant vexed.
“A gracious maiden 1 casts a favoring glance
And earnest furtherance gives his goodly scheme,
Gilds the dim future with its glad romance,
Then gives herself to consummate the dream.”
Speaking of these last fragments, Mr. Alcott, in the autumn of
1882, thus wrote: —
1 Miss May, afterward Mrs. Alcott, to whom Sonnets I.-XIII., and Son-
net XXI. relate. Mrs. Alcott was born in 1800, and died in October, 1877.
244 AVE W COAVAWAEC 7TWCU 7.
“The incidents described in these verses do not warrant poetic
treatment; and if detailed at all, should be written out in prose,
as should the lines entitled ‘The Schoolmaster,’ given in these
notes. The life, from this time, takes a poetic form, - as given
in the ‘Sonnets and Canzonets.” Then may follow prose, till the
Fruitlands’ Idyl, of 1843.
“From Bristol I went to Cheshire to be an amanuensis to Dr.
Bronson, then editor of the ‘Churchman’s Magazine.’ During
the summer I was engaged in copying matter for the ‘Magazine,’
and in studies as preparative for teaching. I read Edgeworth's
“Practical Education,’ ‘Kett's ‘Elements,” Watts’s “Logic,' Millar’s
‘Retrospect,’ ‘Dwight’s ‘Theology,” Reid's Philosophy of Com-
mon Sense, Locke's ‘Essay on the Human Understanding,’ Stew-
art’s Philosophy, etc.” ~
LETTERS FROM BRONSON ALCOTT.
1. To Chatfield Alcott, at Paris, AV. V.
“CHESHIRE, CONN., June 15, 1825.
“DEAR BROTHER, - By this letter you will learn where I am,
and how employed. I came hither soon after closing my school at
Bristol, and have been here since, saving a short jaunt of a few
weeks canvassing for the ‘Churchman’s Magazine.’ My prospects
are now most hopeful. That dismal ague caught in Carolina has
been dismissed, and I enjoy copying my uncle's articles for his
‘Magazine’ and pursuing my studies. I was at Spindle Hill
AAF 77'EA'S OF BA’OAVSOAV AZCO 7'7. 245
lately, and sat by the old hearthside with our honored parents;
they feel rather lonely in these days, – most of us having left them
for an independent pursuit. It is for us to remember them when
afar or near. I only regret that I have given them pain by my past
extravagances.”
2. Zºo his Aºther azed Al/offer.
“CHESHIRE, Nov. 1, 1825.
“DEAR PARENTS, - I began my school here yesterday with the
prospect of continuing during the coming six months. I am to be
paid $18 a month, and board with my uncle, who has spoken good
words for me to parents and school-committee. It is the Cheshire
Central district school. This school has been thought a difficult
one to manage, but I doubt not my ability to secure good order
and successful results. The chief defect is less in children gen-
erally than in the want of good government at home. I am
flattered by the estimate in which my services are held by the
parents who placed their children under my charge in the school
at Bristol. Mr. Roberts, the school-committee man there, came
down here the other day, wishing to engage me for another season,
offering high wages. But, for various reasons, chiefest of which is
my uncle's company, I concluded to remain here. You may look
for me to partake with you the Thanksgiving meals. I am pleased
to learn that my little brothers are good boys, and attend school.”
246 AVAE W COAVAVAEC 77CO/7.
3. Zo William A. Alcott, at AVew Hazent.
“CHESHIRE, Jan. 13, 1826.
“MY DEAR FRIEND,- I reached here on the morning I left you
in time to open my school at the usual hour, much pleased with
my bath and visit. My young charge is gaining daily my affec-
tions, and my efforts have thus far been attended with the most
encouraging success. The parents have given me their con-
fidence and encouragement; my prospects are most flattering.
My numbers are not far from seventy; they range from three to
eighteen years of age. Nearly half of these write with the quill,
and all with the pencil; the least and youngest turn pretty and
delicate curves, surprising to teachers of the old practice. My
classes are many in the common branches taught in our district
schools. The novelty of my methods is attractive to the scholars,
and their progress most gratifying to themselves and their parents.
The school has drawn many visitors from far and near. But
I would not imply by this that some few of the parents do not
prefer the older routine of teaching and discipline, or are silent
concerning their preferences. I find myself in a sphere of useful-
ness unexpected and gratifying. I seem to have found the calling
for which I am best fitted; perhaps born to it. No one better knows
than yourself the schooling which has brought me to this convic-
tion. It seems as if by birth and early association we had been
providentially training for this employment, — our wanderings
and experiences at the South giving us important lessons in life.
A.A. 77'AºA'S OF BA’OAVSOAV AZCO 77. 247
Our friendship dates almost from the dawning consciousness in
our cradles; and childhood and youth have shared our affec-
tions and adventures. Let me add, my dear friend, my obligations
to yourself for kindly counsel, care, and even admonition, when I
strayed from the plain path of duty. Our future opens with
promises of usefulness. I wish you every advantage for studies
at the School from which you hope to derive the knowledge fitting
you for your chosen profession. Your letters are always ac-
ceptable. I wish mine were more deserving of your kindness and
affection.”
In copying his early correspondence for printing, Mr. Alcott
has occasionally omitted and inserted matter, in order to give the
story of the time more clearly. Any repetitions in these letters
may thus be explained. In some cases the originals have been
used by the editor.
University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge.
univ. of ºichigan,
NUV l 9 1912
LOUISA. M. ALCOTT'S WRITINGS.
“Miss Alcott is really a benefactor of households.”— H. H.
“Miss Alcott has a faculty of entering into the lives &nd feelings of
children that is conspicuously wanting in most writers who address them
and to this cause, to the consciousness among her readers that they are hear
ing about people like themselves, instead of abstract qualities labelled with
zzames, the popularity of her books is due.” — Mrs. SARAH J. HALE.
“Pear Aunt 3% /
thousands of little men and little women.” – EXCHANGE.
--O-
Little Women; or, Meg, Jo, Beth, Shawl-Straps. Second volume of
and Amy. With illustrations 16mo $1.50 Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag. 16mo .
Hospital Sketches, and Camp Cupid and Chow-Chow, &c.
and Fireside Stories. With
illustrations. 16mo . . . . .
An Old-Fashioned Girl. With
illustrations. 16mo . . . . .
I,ittle Men : Life at Plumfield with
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Jo's Boys and How they Turned
Out.
With portrait of “Aunt Jo.” 16mo
42 ight Cousins; or, The Aunt-Hill.
With illustrations. 16mo - -
Rose, in Bloom. A sequel to
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Under the Lilacs. With illustra-
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Jack and Jill. A Village Story.
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Work: A Story of Experience.
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OX. e e e - © e © e & ë
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Lulu's Library. Vol. I. A col-
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You are emba/med in the thoughts and loves of
. $1.oo
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2. So
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ROBERTS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
Boszon. Mass.
MARGARET FULLER'S WORKS AND MEMOIRS.
WOMAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY, and
kindred papers relating to the Sphere, Condition, and Duties of Woman.
Edited by her brother, ARTHUR B. FULLER, with an Introduction
by HORACE GREELEY. In 1 vol. 16mo. $1.50.
ART, LITERATURE, AND THE DRAMA. I vol.
I6mo. $1.50.
LIFE WITHOUT AND LIFE WITHIN; or, Reviews,
Narratives, Essays, and Poems. I vol. 16mo. $1.50.
AT HOME AND ABROAD ; or, Things and Thoughts
in America and Europe. I vol. 16mo. $1.50.
MEMOIRS OF MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI. By
RALPH WALDO EMERSON, WILLIAM HENRY CHANNING, and
JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. With Portrait and Appendix. 2 vols.
16mo. $3.00. Cheap edition. Two vols. in one. $1.5o.
—()—-
MARGARET FULLER will be remembered as one of the “Great Conversers,”
the ‘‘ Prophet of the Woman Movement ’’ in this country, and her Memoirs will
be read with delight as among the tenderest specimens of biographical writing in
our language. She was never an extremist. She considered woman neither
man’s rival nor his foe, but his complement. As she herself said, she believed
that the development of one could not be affected without that of the other.
Her words, so noble in tone, so moderate in spirit, so eloquent in utterance,
should not be forgotten by her sisters. Horace Greeley, in his introduction to her
“Woman in the Nineteenth Century,” says: “She was one of the earliest, as .
well as ablest, among American women to demand for her sex equality before the
law with her titluar lord and master. , Her writings on this subject have the force
that springs from the ripening of profound reflection into assured conviction. It
is due to her memory, as well as to the great and living cause of which she was so
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to the position of her sex and its limitations should be fully and fairly placed
before the public.” No woman who wishes to understand the full scope of what
is called the woman’s movement should fail to read these pages, and see in them
how one woman proved her right to a position in literature hitherto occupied by
men, by filling it nobly.
The Story of this rich, sad, striving, unsatisfied life, with its depths of emotion
and its surface sparkling and glowing, is told tenderly and reverently by her
biographers. Their praise is eulogy, and their words often seem extravagant;
but they knew her well, they spoke as they felt. The character that could awaken
such interest and love surely is a rare one.
ſº The above are uniformly bound in cloth, and sold separately or
in sets.
Sold everywhere. Mailed, post-paid, by the Publishers,
ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON.
Messrs. Roberás Brož/hers' Pazô/7cations.
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MARGARET FULLER.
By JULIA WARD HOWE.
One volume. 16mo. Cloth. Price $1.00.
“A memoir of the woman who first in New England took a position of morai
and intellectual leadership, by the woman who wrote the Battle Hymn of the
Republic, is a literary event of no common or transient interest. The Famous
Women Series will have no worthier subject and no more illustrious biographer.
Nor will the reader be disappointed, - for the narrative is deeply interesting and
full of inspiration.” — Womazz's jozerzeal.
“Mrs. Julia Ward Howe's biography of Margaret Fuller, in the Famous
Women Series of Messrs. Roberts Brothers, is a work which has been looked for
with curiosity. It will not disappoint expectation. She has made a brilliant and
an interesting book. Her study of Margaret Fuller’s character is thoroughly
sympathetic; her relation of her life is done in a graphic and at times a fascinating
manner. It is the case of one woman of strong individuality depicting the points
which made another one of the most marked characters of her day. It is always
agreeable to follow Mrs. Howe in this ; for while we see marks of her own mind
constantly, there is no inartistic protrusion of her personality. The book is always
readable, and the relation of the death-scene is thrillingly impressive.” — Satur-
day Gazette.
“Mrs. Julia Ward Howe has retold the story of Margaret Fuller's life and
career in a very interesting manner. This remarkable woman was happy in
having James Freeman Clarke, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and William Henry
Channing, all of whom had been intimate with her and had felt the spell of her
extraordinary personal influence, for her biographers. It is needless to say, of
course, that nothing could be better than these reminiscences in their way.” —
Mezv Vozł World. -
“The selection of Mrs. Howe as the writer of this biography was a happy
thought on the part of the editor of the series; for, aside from the natural appre-
ciation she would have for Margaret Fuller, comes her knowledge of all the
influences that had their effect on Margaret Fuller's life. She tells the story of
Margaret Fuller’s interesting life from all sources and from her own knowledge,
not hesitating to use plenty of quotations when she felt that others, or even
Margaret Fuller herself, had done the work better.” — Miss Gilder, iz Philadez-
2%: a Press.
—º-
Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, on receipt of
the price, by the publishers,
ROBERTS BROTHERS,
- BOSTON, MASS.
x ſyſ’ ſ
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