THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Ex Libris Katharine F. Richmond and Henry C. Fall J [ Cl%sCLStsi~*^e-' C7T~ OF SHELBURNE NEW HAMPSHIRE, BY MRS. R. P. PEABODY. GOKIIAM, N. H. : MOUNTAINEER PKINT, 1682. HISTORY OF SHELBUHNE BY MRS. R. P. PEABODT. The town of Shelbnrne is situated in Northern New Hampshire, eighty-six miles from Portland, Me.. and twelve miles from the foot of Mr. Washington. The Androscogsfin river divide* it nearly in the centre, receiving the waters of two parallel ranges of mountains. Rat- tle river is the largest tiibntary on the southern side, and Lad Mine brook on the northern. The town is only six miles square, bounded north by Success, east by Gilead. Me., south by Bean's Purchase and west by Uoiham, formerly Shelbnrne Addition. The intervales vary from a few rods to half a mile in width, and were formerly covered, as the encircling mountains are now. by a mixed growth ot'spriif'. hemlock, pin aad hrnlg^s and un d rpicnings. On PealuMly l>ro>k. hetween Red Hilt and Haldcap are Shelluirnf F'alls. In the spr'ng ih ycauhesen two third* the length of i he town, appearing HVe a gie-it drift of snow. A party of jre ifl- lueii who stopped at 'the St. Charles House cut a path alonir the hank of 'the hrok. and the Falls are one of il-e ob- jects of interest to siiniui chooses to carry i IHMII niV t In' bills. 'I'bn ttwn was jriHiited in 1770 by G'Or>. r e III to Mark Went, worth -and six otber-s, ami was survey'il by Tlieodnr^ Aik ; non tlie saint- yt ar. In 1820 vvht-n it was incorpoiaU'il. the population wis 230. In 1859 it was 480. but afur the building of the G. T. K. nd the estab- li-liiin-iu ot the niaHiine .|i>ips ; n I lum- ber mills 'it < ;>rii : im the yoiiiiyer prople kept moving awav. till l>v the \nt-t cen- sus the population is onlv 259. CHAPTER II. THE FIRST SETTLERS. To avoid repetition and confusion, we shall only in this chapter give a brief notice of some of the old< r fnnilie*. tracing them down to the present jiem ra- tion, and reserve an account of tlie:r in- Inytries. fonvi : n ; enee for travi 1. chinches, schools &c.. tor subsequent chapters. The same spirit of n..re*t that drove our lorefaUiei> lr< in Kngl:ind io me I'm bid- their descendants to leave the growing town :nn| cnliivaieil farm* of that pros- perous SIH e. ;iu I peek -A home in the gloomy ior.-.;t; of northern New Hamp- shire. Aninn^ the Hr*t to i*-v tlio coiuforts of civili/C'l sociitv fr th dangers iin I priv.-itions if tlin \v;li the rwr. near the Main lire. Tin- sn >\\ \vsi< livt* i< ec (! e|> wh^n his wile vva'k 11 *! n|i I'r -in ]i-tli< 1 r;iiTy n r o ! diil'l in In r arms while tw-i other* clung to h r .-kins. With a ie'-klf.<.* iiunroviilciice harlly xcii-a'il'-. Mr. Austin nail neg ei-red 10 provide -vi n l< inp'oai'v shrlii-r fur dU liitie laiii'lv. IJut >|IIM<:<- bough* wire hainly. and in a short iine a roof v\a* thio^n o\-i r the lo>; ca'iin. om* tonth boards nailed ro^eiher for a l'-or. the snow sh'VfJeil out and a tiiv hiiiK. b^- tue'ii stoiiHi* or "i'1-eii l"g-. Here th'-y livi.'l. inakintr occasional iinproveine'iis until p.-ofperity enabled biin to build a more coiiVfiiient frauif houe. Ot the family of tive children. Mary and Judith remained >'nu.'-. Lydia and 5 Hannah married Samuel Wheeler, James married Sally, daughter of Joseph Lary, Jr.. of Gilead, and built a handsome two- story house a little below his father's. Of his children, Johu and Caverno died, and Dearborn married Rose, daughter of Rev. Ezekiel Coffin, and lived at home till after the death of his father, when he moved to Gilead, and the name of Shelburne's first resident was dropped from her annals. Mr. Hope Austin is remembered by elderly people of to-day as a pleasant- spoken old gentleman, very much bent, walking back and forth from his house to the mill, with his hands clasped behind him; and the Austins, as a family, were pleasant, hospitable and industrious. DANIEL INGALLS lived just across the river, and was Mr. Austin's nearest neighbor. He was much esteemed for his high moral char- acter. Religion was a part of his daily life, but he was cheerful and could even make a dry joke now and then. One spring he killed a moose and ar-conling to custom, invited his neighbor* t<> go out and haul in what they wanted. For some reason Mr. Austin failed to go, but the next day be happened in just as the deacon's family were sitting down to dinner. 6 'Won't you have a piece of roast moose meat, Mr. Austin?" inquired Mr. Ingalls. pleasantly. "T don't care if I do," sniffing the savory steam and putting up his hand to remove a quid of tobacco. W !!," was the unexpected response, 'you can have all you want hy going out after it." Moses, his oldest son, was a sailor; energetic, resolute, and rather rough. It is said his prospective mother-in-law said to him, jocosely : 'Nancy will hold your nose to the grindstone, Mr. Ingalls." "I'll give you leave to turn, ma'am, when she does," was his defiant answer. He married Nancy Barker, and lived near where C. J. Lary now does. Dan- iel, his son. married Mary Barker, and cleared a farm on Ingalls' brook, where his widow now lives with her son Henry and his family. Frederick, second son of Moses, married Susan Heath, died in his prime, and his descendants moved away. Robert, third son of Moses, married Rowena Hills, and bought the farm on Clemens brook, cleared by the Evanses. He was one of the most prominent men in the place, filling many offices with honor and ability, It is remarked of 7 him, as of the late J. R. Hitchcock, "He always recognized an acquaintance, rich or poor, high or low, with the same readiness and courtesy.'' It is a trait of character well worth cultivating by many, flis daughter. Caroline, a most estimable lady, died at Gorham in 1870, when the typhoid fever was such a con- tagious and fatal disease. Rufus married Emeline, great-grandaughter of Capt. Joseph Lary of Gilead. She also died dur- ing the epidemic, and several year? after Mr. Ingalls married Hattie McKe'ncy. His son, Frederick, only fifteen years old, edits .a small paper, called The Little Messenger. FLETCHER INGALLS, the younger son of Deacon Daniel,like his father, was of a very high moral nature. Every birth-day he religiously kept as a day of fasting and prayer. At a time when intoxicating liquors were free, al- most as water, he was a firm advocate of temperance. The Cold Water Army, an organization designed to embrace the youth of both sexes, was his conception, and the first temperance lecture given here was by his appointment. He mar- ried Mercy Lary. who died shortly after the birth of her child. For many years her sister kept house for Mr. Ingalls, aid cared for his lirtle daughter Polly, who married Barker Bnrbank, son of Capt. Eliphalet Burbank of Gilead. Mr. Bnrbank was a practical fanner, a suc- cessful merchant, and a lawyer of con- siderable ability. He built a large, hand- some house a short distance from his father-in-law, acquired a comfortable fortune, and reared a family of fourteen children. Only two remain in town. Payson married Mary Smith, and has six sons, enough to perpetuate the family name, and Martin, who married Mary, grandaughter of Capt. Joseph Pinkham, one of the first settlers of Jackson. Judge Robert Burbank, of Boston, now owns the homestead, and has added to it till his estate is the largest in town. A more extended description of the house and grounds will be given in a chapter devoted to the stock farm. The Ingalls' have always borne a stainless name, and in wealth and social position, in age and rank, as one of the first fam- ilies of Shelburne. STEPHEN MESSER. Fortune, as well as Justice, is blind and fickle, and her gifts nre bestowed more by chance than merit. Although as worthy as Ms neighbors. Mr. Messer was very poor, and often sorely troubled to provide food for his little ones. Fortu- nately, they had a cow. and her milk gave a relish to potatoes and hasty pud- ding when nothing else, not even salt, could be obtained. Once, not a potato nor bit of meal remained. The only article of food in the house was a little pat of tinsalted butter. Samuel, three or four years old. went up to the shelf and running his little fore finger through it. put some in his month. When one of the older children directed Mrs Messer's attention to him. the poor, discouraged mother burst into tears, exclaiming: Do let the poor little dear c;it it if he can." But their scanty allowance did not seem to shorten the lives or weaken the constitution of the hardy family. Per- haps, like Dr. Tanner, when they got something to eat they made up lost time. John, one of the sons, married Sally Peabody, and always worked out, dying at a good old age as poor as in his child- 10 hood. Luck, good or bad, runs in the blood, like consumption or scrofula, and a man is no more to blame for being poor than he is for being bald headed or near sighted.. Uncle John, as he was familiar- ly called, was a great hunter, or rather was fond of limiting, for one of his old acquaintances says lie was so cowardly lie'd climb an alder bush with his snow- shoes on if he saw so much as a flock of wild ducks. One spring he went out deer-hunting in company with Enoch and Allan Peabody. They went as far as success, and Allan, who was suffer- ing with sick headache, wanted to stop over night at Ben Beau's; but Mr. Mes- ser insisted on returning. It was grow- ing dark; the crust was like glare ice. and presently Uncle JohnVs snow-shoes went out from under him, and away IIH went down the hill, shouting at the top of his voice, "I'm gone, I'm gone, sartin as crea- tion!" Sticking their axe in the snow, the young men let themselves carefully down the steep incline. Directed by his loud lamentations they soon found the clumsy old gentleman hung up in a spruce top. With some difficulty he was set to rights, and then the axe was lost, and Allan was too sick and cold to care 11 if the whole party had been lost. Evident- ly they could not go on till daylight, and Enoch started a fire and tended it all nij>ht with such fuel as he could find and break up. Nancy Messer, a daughter of Stephen, married Amos Peabody. and after living in Gilead and Kandolph came to Shel- burne and settled on Peabody brook, where three of their children, Aaron, Nancy and Allan, still reside. Four others. Hannah. Esther, Bathsheba and Elmira, died of consumption while in youth. Stephen married Hepxibeth Evans and cleared the adjoining farm. He was intimately, connected with the town business, and also with the affairs of the church. He was never very strong but lived to the age of fifty, when he died with that scourge of his family, consumption. His widow lived on the home (arm with her son Roswell till her death last December. Enoch, another son of Amos Peabody. married Judith Wheeler and lived for several years next farm to his brother Stephen. Then he moved to Berlin and subsequently to Stark. In the cellar over which his house stood is growing a white birch tree, four feet in circumference. Betsy Messer, daughter of Stephen 12 Messer. went to Andover to live with an aunt, where she met and married THOMAS HUBBARD. They lived at AnUover, Dracut and Bradford before they came to Shelburne. Mr?. Hubbaid rode from Massachusetts on horse-back, and the rough log house on the hillside must have looked very uninviting. They reared a large family of children, experiencing all the discom- forts that usually fall to the lot of peo- ple with limited means and a growing family. Afterwards they lived on the farm now owned by John Head, and finally settled near the top of what is now known as the Great Hill. Of their children. Erastus and Rufus married daughters of Abraham Wilson and re- moved to Wliitefield. Enoch and Leon- ard married daughters of Amos Peabody. Jefferson married a daughter of George Green and for-, twent3 r -five years was station ag*>nt of the G. T. E. at Shel- burne. No other proof is needed of his honesty and fidelity. Maria Ilubbard married Jo.*hua Ken rial 1. and her daugh- ter Pamela is the wife of Dr. Green of Portland. We were shown a looking-glass and warming-pan that formed part of the household goods of Mr. & Mrs. Thomas Ilubbard, and were brought from Mass- 13 achnsetts nearly three quarters of a century ago. The names of Messer, Peabody and Hubbard are closely en- twined, and their descendants comprise a large proportion of our present popu- lation. THOMAS GREEN. Some people have a faculty for mak- ing money under the mo^t adverse cir- cumstances, while in others this faculty is wholly lacking. Although Mr. Green began a home in the heart of the forest, by good calculation and econom}* he not only made a living, but laid up consider- able property. In his (-Id age his mind became feeble and disordered, and though worth enough to buy half the town, he was haanted by a fear of starva- tion. One evening in early spring h> came out of bis room, with slippers on, and went out at the hack door. He was never seen again. His footsteps were followed across the intervale on to the river. The dark, swift-flowing water told the rest. Whether he meditated suicide or wandered aimlessly on, un- thinking of the open channel, will never be known. Edward, a son of Thomas, married Nancy Birdiu. Twenty-one of his fam- ily reside in town. Three children, Ly- 14 ina-i. Darius .and Manson, ten grand- children and eight great-grandchildren. George, another son of Thomas, when he became of age, received one hundred dollars in cash, and a piece of land on the Magalloway. Not liking to settle so far from his friends. George sold this land and bought a lot just across the river from home. Unlike some young men who begin at the top and tumble down. Mr. Green began at the bottom and climbed up. He built a tiny house containing only a kitchen and bedroom, took a boy by the name of Abial Walker, and st-t up housekeeping by himself. Thiee or four years after he married Hannah Lary, a younger sister of James Austin's wiff. As fast as his means al- lowed lie built additions till in 1817 it was a long, two-story house, with large, square rooms above and below. It was now tnrnished for a tavern, and for more than fifty ye us aftorded accommodation for the traveling public. People from Lancaster (Upper Coos) on th^ir'vvay to Portland, frequently fifteen or twenty double teams at once, stopped here to bait their horses and t ike something to comfort themselves. Of course it was dreadful wrong, (taking something, we mean, not baiting the horses) but why was it any worse to step up to the bar 15 before a whole roomful, toss down a glass of sweetened water, or anything else, than it is now to wink to ones bosom friend, go round A's barn, drink the same stuff, only nastier, from a little black bottle, and come back with such an absurd look of innocence and uncon- ciousness? Let us be consistent, and not hold up our hands in holy horror at th motes in our ancestors' eyes while the beam remains in our own. When the Grand Trunk railroad was built, the glory of Green's tavern de- parted. M>. Green w;is an honest, plain- spoken man. It is said of him that know- ingly, he would not defraud a person of ^ single cent. His two daughters mar- ried and lived near, and his widow died in 1879, at the advanced age of eighty- two years. Jonas, youngest son of Thomas, was a hard-working, stern, and rather unsocial man, but his life's history is invested with a romance worthy the skillful pen of an accomplished novelist. His first choice for a wife was Rachel Lary, The day was set foi the wedding, and part of her things had been carried to the new home, but Death suddenly appeared and claimed the bride for his own. After a suitable time, Mr. Green transferred his affections to her sister Mercy, and rnar- 16 rieil her. She died in a few years, and their only child, a little daughter, was also taken, leaving Mr. Green again alone. He afterwards married the youngest sister, Susannah, who survives him. His ildest son. Thomas, married Colossia Coffin, and was killed at JNaples, Me., by the falling of a chimney. Last summer, Oliver, the youngest son of Jonas, bought the Green tavern stand and remodeled it for a summer boarding house. He is an experienced hotel pro- prietor, and reported wealthy. Mr. Jonas Green lived on the home place till the death of his parents, then on the farm now owned by Charles Phil- brook, and finally on the Jewett farm. His last sickness was very distressing, but he bore ir. as he did the many disap- pointments and perplexities of his life, with patience and fortitude, feeling as- sured of unbroken rest and happiness in eternity. Eunice Prhtt was a sister of Thomas Green's wife, and came with them from Massachusetts. During the twenty years that Mrs. Green suffered with consump- tion Aunt Eunice faithfully cared for her and attended to the housework. She lived to see two generations grow up around her. and the forest give place to fertile farms. She died on the home 17 place, of cancer, nearly thirty years ago. SAMUEL WHEELER was an old revolutionary soldier, and dearly loved to recount the dangers he had passed and the privations he had en- dured. One of his stories was this: A squad of about forty Continentals were tired upon by a party of Tories, lying in ambush. With ready presence of mind the commanding officer ordered one hun- dred to keep the road, and the rest to scour the woods. Thinking they had more than met their match, the Tories find in confusion, firing their guns in the air. "I did hate" said the old man, 'to see them waste their powder so." When we remember what difficulty the Con- tinental army had to get ammunition, the force of his remark will be appreci- ated. Mr. Wheeler's clearing was on the Ingalls brook close t<> the base of the mountains, where the sun lay warm- ly till past noon, and the cold, north- west wind could not striKe. In the cold reason of 1816, when snow fell every month of the year, he was the only one whose corn got ripe enough to grow again. The next spring he sold it for two dollars a bushel. His daughter Lucy kept, his home many years, and after- ward lived with her brother Amos, who 18 married Lyclia Gould and moved to Milan. He made spinning wheels and regulated clocks. Samuel. Jr.. was a licensed preacher, and in the absence of a regular minister conducted the religious exercises of the place. He married the Austin sisters, L} r .lia and Hannah. The children were Austin. Joseph, Samuel, Anna, Margaret and Judith. Austin WHS a Freewill Baptist minister, talented and well educated. Judith mar- ried Enoch Peabody and moved to Stark, where two of her daughters, Mrs. James Dodge and Mrs. James Larrabee slill reside. Anna was Mrs. Reuben Hobart, and Margaret, or Aunt Peggy, as she WHS familiarly called, lived with Samuel, and died single. Samuel married Eliza, daughter of Lite Burbank, by whom he had four children. Years after when his second wife died leaving a family of four little ones, his daughter Betsy, only sixteen or seventeen years old, took charge, and with a patience and self-abnegation rare- ly equalled, stayed with the orphan children till the youngest sister was capable of managing her father's house. A few years ago Mr. Wheeler bought the Austin farm, where he now lives, and 19 his son Ellery owns the home place. This is the only farm in town that has descended from lather to son in a direct line for four generations. We wish more pride of ancestry were felt in this coun- try, and farms redeemed from the forest might be bequeathed to children for centuries, a priceless legacy entailed by love, if not by law. AND^CLE. \fENS. Jonathan Evans and Benjamin Clem- ens came to Shelbnrne at the same or nearly the ?ame time. They were ,both soldiers of the Revolution, and probably tioth stationed at Fort Ticonderoga. Daniel Evans, son of Jon tthmi. married Phila Clemens, and cleared the farm owned by Otis Evans. He was a man of influence and wealth, owning what is now four farms. He injured himself while fighting fire, and for several years before his death was a mental and physi- cal wreck, Jonathan Evans, Jr. married Mary Lary and lived on the Charles Philbrook farm. He was a large, portly man, and his three sons, Hazen, Jabez and Augus- tus. living at Gorham. resemble him in this particular. Since writing the above we heard of the death of Mr. Augustus Evans, He was all ready to go into the 20 woods to work, and on retiring set the alarm on tlie clock that he might rise early. At about the time he intended to rise he was found 5n a dying condition by his housekeeper. Sarah, a daughter of the elder Jona- than, was left behind when the rest of the family moved here, and owing to imperfect comiiiunication was lost sight of. Many years after, a person from Coos county happened to be HtPlainfield and stopped at the house of a Mr. Gates. Incidently he mentioned the Evans' of Shelburne. Mrs. Gates was interested at once, and after learning their names arid antecedents, was convinced that they were her own folks. The next year, in company with her son Jefferson, she sought the:n out. The reunion must have been more sad than pleasant. Her parents, whom she had last seen in the prime of life, were bowed down with age; the little brothers were middle-aged men. and she herself a gray-haired, wrinkled woman. Eventually her hus- band, Bazeleel Gates, moved here with his family, and bought the farm owned by William Newell. Caleb, the young- est son, married Bathsheba Porter and remained at home. Thpy had four child- ren, Woodbnry, Cass, Matilda and Frank. Matilda died at Newburyport about ten 21 years ago. Woodbury married a daugh- ter of Ha/en Evans, and owns a meat ami grocery store at Gorham. Jefferson 'jates married Maria Porter, and lived on the farm adjoining his brother Caleb's. His widow survives him. and remains on the home farm with her son Henry and his family. Simeon Evans was a brother to Jona- than, and came from Massachusetts about the same time. Ezekiel, Elijah, Lydia and John were his children. Speaking of his cousin Daniel, E/.ekiel =aid : "Daniel has got a corn-fed wife, but I'm going to get one led on ginger- bread." So he went back to Massachu- setts, won his wife and brought her here on horse-back. The most conspicuous article among her wedding finery was a lilac silk bonnet, which was the envy and admiration of all her neighbors. They lived just below Mr. Haxeltine's, in the ruined, deserted house still stand- ing, and raised a large family of child- ren. Only Mrs. Moses Hazeltine remains in town. Parker Evans, one of the grandchildren, is a highly esteemed and efficient engineer on the G. T. R. * > Elijah, another son of Simeon, lived on the Hitchcock intervale. His son Homy married Joanna Leighton, and built the [Hitchcock cottage, where he lived several years. Afterward he bought the place now owned by his son-in-law. Trustem Minard. John Evans, a third son of Simeon, died while at work on Thomas Green's house. The frame was partly up. and standing on the top, Mr. Evans reached down to lift up a heavy stick, and pitch- ed headlong into the cellar. Ic was sup- posed he broke a blood-vessel from over- exertion, lie left seven little children, among whom were Mrs. Abraham Wil- son and Mrs. Palmer, twins. Mr. Clemens had a large family, but none of his descendants are now in town except those connected with the Evans'. John married Dolly Jackson and had eleven sons and one daughter; enough, one would think, ro keep a man fiom dying dependent on the town, as he did. Typhena married Thomas Jackraan arid lived where Moses Hazeltine does. Mr. Jackman died suddenly of heart disease while yet :i young man. He cut two cords of wood on the day of his death, and came into the house at night in his usual hejilth. Taking up his little daughter he talked and played with her for some time. "Now I must go and tie up the cattle." he said, putting her down with a kiss, "be H good girl till I come hack." Mrs. Jack man got her supper ready, and looking out tor her husband was surprised to see the cattle still in the yard. It was dark in tlie Darn, but she went in and felt round on the floor, fearing he might have fallen from the scaffold. Failing to tind him she got a light, and called Ezfkiel Evans. As he opene.l the tie-up door, the first object the wife's horrified eyes rested upon was the lifeless form of her husband. Sabri- na. the eldest, married Bostie Head; Eliza. Sewell Lary, and Barak, Arvilla, granda lighter of John Evans. JONATHAN PEA BODY. It is a popular legend in this family that two brothers of thensime came over from England in the May Flower. Soon after their arrival one of them died, and nil the Peabodys in this country are de- scendants of the survivor. Jonathan Peabody came from Andover when a young man, married Phebe Kirn- ball of Bethel, and lived on the farm now- owned by Horace Green. He had five children. Priscilla, (Mrs. Ben Bean) Phebe. Sally. (Mrs. John Messer) Amos and Oliver. He afterward married Pru- dence Patterson, a widow with three children. Betsy. Jennie and Hoeea. From this marriage there were live more child- ren, Mercy, (Mrs. Amos Evans) Philena, Charlotte. 'Mrs. Nathan Newell) Asa and Jonathan. Oliver Peabody married Susy Messer and lived with. his father. His childron were John, Loami. Nancy, (Mrs. Noah Gould) Eliza, Betsy, Sally, who married Peter- Runnels and lived and died in the house now owned by Sylvester Hubbard, and Samuel, who married Lovisa Clem- ens for his first wife, by whom he had several children. Only one lived to grow up, Lovisa Ann. Jonathan Peabody, Jr., had three wives. His first wife, and the Mother of his children, was Eli/a Coffin of Gilead. Three of his children, Warren, Augustus and Eliza, married respectively, Mary. Lydia and Charles Tenney. Eveline married Madison Gilchrist; Elbridge, Angie Perham ; Oravel, Maria Wight, and they all settled in Londonderry. Augustus died in 18G5. Oravel lost two children about the same time, and his wife never recovered from this affliction. She died soon after, and her infant boy was adopted and brought back to Bethel by her sister, Mrs. Ed Holt. Josh Bil- lings says of his ancesters. "None of them have ever been huug, as far back as I've traced them." We can sa} r the same of the Peabody 's, and add none of them ever deserved hanging, either. With few exceptions, they have all been farmers and farmers' wives, and as a family are honest, industrious and fru- gal. JONATHAN LARV, a son of Joseph Lary, Jr., married Susan Burbank. a sister of Barker Burbank, and cleared the farm now owned by Daniel Evans. They had five children. Rachel and Elmira, twins, Seliua, Vol- taire and Churchill. DEARBORN LARV was a son of Capt. Joseph Lary of Gilead. He married Polly Chandler, a sister of John Chandler, and had a large family of children. Frank lives on the old homestead with his family. Elan mar- ried and settled in Gorham. and his mother acd two sisters. Hannah and Deborah, reside with him. NATHANIEL PORTER lived just below the stock (arm. and had a family of seven girls and one boy. From the little we have been able to* learn he seems to have been a quiet, easy-tempered min, fond of fun and practical jokes. He was the first black- smith in town. The story of his shoe- ing the old buck so he might chase the hoys on the ice. is familiar to many. 26 Col. Head was au uncle to Gov. Head. Two sons, Merrill and Bostie, settled here. Elsie married Hazen Evans. We have space only to mention the names of Jeremiah Gould and his son Noah. Jona- than Bullard and his son Dr. Bazeleel, John Chandler, Sam and Edwin Thomp- son, and William Newell and his descend- ants. In later times Harvey Phiibrook was a prominent and popular man. He fur- nished a good illustration of the advan- tages of natural gifts over a school education wichout those. He filled every town office from highway surveyor to representative, did a large and lucrative business in buying and selling cattle, and acquired a handsome property. He died in the prime of life, regretted by all who knew him. Dr. Oliver Howe was a student of Dr. John Grover. and came here when quite a young man, He married Esther Bur- bank, built the house now known as the Winthrop House, and is the only physi- cian who ever lived in Shelburne for any length of time. Hiram Cummings own- ed the upper half of the Great Island, and the farm opposite. He was a suc- cessful book farmer, as experimenters are derisively called. He sold out to John Wilson, and moved to Paris, Me., about two years ago. Of the old names, Evans is still borne by twenty individuals, Hubbard by seventeen. Green by thirteen, and the descendants of those three famlies com- prise more than one third of our present population. CHAPTER III. INDUSTRIES. For some years people could only at- tend to clearing the land and raising food for their growing families. The largest and straightest trees were reserved for the frames of new houses ; shingles rived fiom the clearest pir.e; baskets, chair bottoms, cattle bows, etc , made from brown ash butts, and all the rest were piled and burned on the spot. Thousands of timber and cords of wood were thus consigned to the flames as of no practical value. Corn, potatoes, wheat and rye grew abundantly on the neAv soil, enrich- ed by the fallen leaves of 111:1113' centuries. Plenty of sugar could be had for the making, and moose, deer and the deli- cious brook trout were free to all, re- gardless of the game officer. Next to the actual necessity of some- thing to eat, comes something to wear, and on every clearing could be seen a little patch of blue blossomed flax. This 28 was pulled, broken, conned, carded, spun and woven, entirely by hand, and made into tow pants and tow and linen shirrs for men's summer wear, into serv- iceable checked dresses and aprons, and the nicest of bed and table linen. A day's work was spinning two double skeins of linen, carding and spinning four double skeins of tow. or weavinjf six yards, and for a week's work a girl received fifty cents. Mrs, James Austin has had a hundred yards out bleaching at once. Wool was worked up about the same way, and all through the fall and winter the irritating scratch, scratch, of the cards, the hoarse hum ot the big wheel, the flutter ol the flies on the little wheel, and the rattling of the loom machinery, made cheerful music in the dismal log houses. Much more enlivening to some minds than the heavy, resonant wailing of the modern organ. Piles of fleecy blankets and stockings were packed away against the marriage of the girls. Pressed quilts were part of the outfit, lasting for years, often to the third generation. Mrs. Hep/ibeth Peabody had one over fifty years old. It was originally a bright green lined with straw color, nnd quilted with blue in inch squares. Mrs. 29 Aaron Peabody had a blue one quilted in little far.s. Mrs. George Green had sev- eral. One was quilted in feather work with a border of sun-flower leaves, and then cross quilted in straight lines. Mrs. Ezikiel Evans was usually called upon to mark out the patterns, and the best quilter was the belle of the company. Overcoats were just a iritte less hide- ous than the ulster. For while the ulster comes only in somber gray, tne old-fash- ioned overcoat was bright as a flower- garden. Ben Bean h?d one made of red, green and brown plaid, a gorgeous affair, even for those days. Ladies' cloaks were made of similar plaid ; about four breadths plaited on a deep yoke. Put one of these cloak* and a pumpkin hood on to the dearest girl in the world, and you couldn't tell her from her grand- mother. To keep the snow from getting into the low shoes, gaily striped socks were worn, and every child could knit double mittens in herring-bone or fox and geese pattern. Peggy Davis could knit the alphabet, and in a pair of mittens she once knit for Barker Burbank she in- scribed a verse. Others took pride in knitting remarkably fast. Many could knit a pair of double mittens in a day; but the best job in that line was done by Nancy Peabody. Her brother Allan 30 came out ot the woods and wanted a pair of mittens as he had lost his. There was no yarn in the house, nor rolls, but plenty of wool. Miss Peabody was equal to the emergency. She carded, spun, scoured out and knit a pair of double mittens, (white) and had them ready to wear into the woods the next morning. Money may he the root of all evil, but like poor rum, many people want it bad enough to run all risks. No sooner had the new settlers begun to be comfortable than they cast about them for ways and means to make money. The nearest market was Portland, eighty-sis miles away. Hay, grain and potatoes were too bulky to pay transportation; but Yankee ingenuity soon overcame that difficulty. The hay and grain was trans- formed into butter, cheese, pork or beef. Wood was condensed into potash, and in that state was easily carried away. The process of making potash is quite com- plicated and interesting. The wood was cut eight or ten fret long, piled, and burned to ashes. Leeches capable ot holding ten or fifteen bushels weie placed over a trough made from a large tree, and the lye boiled down to a black^ sticky substance called salts. Some- times it was sold in this state at 85.00 a hundred, but where business of any amount was done, it was further reduced to potash. Then it was dissolved, boiled down again and baked in a long brick oven till changed to a white powder, called pearlash, which was used in bread. Mrs. Enoch Hubbard informs us that she got her first print dress by bringing ashes off the hill and selling them for nine pence a bushel. With a more Ijberal supply of mon jy came the chance for some enterprising fellow to set up a store. Thomas Green, Jr., was the first merchant, and had a potash manufactory in connection with his store on the Jewett farm. Years after, George Green and Robert Ingalls opened a store, first in partnership, then separately. The Bisbee brothers and William Hebbard eacli tried trading, but were uncuccessful. Now-a-days a man would hardly ac- cept a bushel of corn as a gift if he had to carry it to a Fryeburg grist-mill on his back ; yet. seventy-five years ago, every necessary of life was carried in that way or hauled on the light, flexible hand sleigh. The first grist-mill was put up by the Austins on Mill brook. William Newell, Sr., worked there after he sold out to Mr. Gates. Afterward saws were put in, and Stephen 1'eabody sawed the 32 lumber for hts house on shares. Clear* pine boards, t\venty-four inches wide, only cost him six dollars u thousand. Still later the Xevvell brothers put in machinery for sawing shingles and spool wood. Tho mill was washed away in the freshet of 1878. and has not been re- built. Another grist-mill stood on Scales' creek, now called State-line brook. When William Newell, Jr., lived at Berlin, he used to carry a bushel of corn to this mill, stop and do a day's work for Barker Burbank. and carry his meal home at night. This was before the ten hour system of labor. On Clem- ens' brook were two saw mills; one own- ed by Luwson Evans and one by Jeffer- son Hubbard, The Wheelers owned one on Ingalls brook, and Enoch Hubbard one on Lead Mine brook. All of these mills were local conveniences, not mon- ey-making enterprises. The earliest carpenters were Mr. Pea- body and his son Oliver. C. J. Lary's old barn was framed by them, and was the second framed barn in town. Of shoemakers we have Thomas Flubbard, Moses Harlowe, Richard Bos well and John Burbank. Col. Porter was the first blacksmith, followed by John Chan- dler, Sumner Chipman, James Hall aim Isaiah opiller. Joseph Conner made cart wheels. He was working for Har- vey Philbrook one clay, and the conver- sation turned on the wholesale destruc- tion of pine timber. With considerable irritation the old man exclaimed: "In a few years there won't be a pine tree to lay your jaws to!'' Some men made a Jiving by making sap-buckets, ox-yokes or sleds. Others shaved shingles. It looks to be slow work, but Aaron Peabody could turn off a thousand a day, and a building once covered could be warranted to last a life- time. One of JR. P. Peabody's barns was covered with pine shingles, shaved by his grandfather more than fifty years ago, and last fall the overlapped end was found perfectly sound. Picking up a handful for kindling we saw one marked H. P. S. in large, handsome capitals. Fifty years distant in. the past, yet how easy for the imagination to picture the clearing, a tiny island in the forest sea, the rough log house, the pile of spicy pine logs, and the young fellow in home- spun clothes, idly cutting letters in the smooth white surface; of a new shingle. Were they his own initials, or did they stand for a rosy face, lit up by sweet, shy eyes, smoothly braided hair and lit- tle brown hands hardened by incessant spinning and weaving. We were fast losing ourselves in a possible ro- mance, when our matter-of-fact com- panion suggested that they might have been made by Henry Smith, when as boys they played together on the scaf- fold. Twenty-five years ago Judge Ingalls had a brick-yard near the pres- ent residence of I. \V. Spiller, employ- ing four or five men. Part of the bricks were used to build a coal kiln near the bridge crossing. Mr. Jacob Stevens did a good business burning coal and haul- ing it to the Glen. It is a tedious and rather disagreeable way of making mon- ey, but he was one of those steady, persevering men who do well at any- thing they undertake. Logging has always been a standard industry, and the timber holds out like the widow's meal and oil. All the pine went first. Nothing else was fit for building purposes in those days. Thu old-fashtjned tables, two and a half fett wide, made from a single board without a Knot or blemish, the beautiful ceiling' and floor in old houses are enough to make a man's heart ache with envy, particularly if he has just been using spruce boards so narrow that when laid they seem to be two thirds cracks. A Mr. Judkins. from Brunswick, was one of the first contractors, paying from .75 to $1.00 per thousand, delivered on the rivers. Years later Stephen Peabody hauled from Success for $1.83 per thou- sand. Barker Burbank was agent for the undivided lands, and did an extensive business. It was while in his employ that Amos Wheeler and Samuel Phipps, brother of the late Peter Phipps. were, burned to death in a camp up Dead River. The unfortunate men were so nearly consumed that they could only be identified by the length of the charred bones. Millions of nice timber have been taken from the intervales, and as much more from the uplands and hill- sides. Manson Green has quite a hand- some growth back on the ridge. Others have reserved small tracts of second growth, but no pine trees of size can now be found. The Lead Mine Valley has always been famous for nice spruce and hemlock. F;>r several successive years all the timber worth hauling has been taken out, yet this winter eight oxen, six horses and a dozen or so of men are still finishing up. Our present industries outside of farming are first, the SAW MILLS. Mr. Jewett's on Rattle river is run by steam, and employs fifteen or twenty men, cutting, hauling and sawing spool 36 wood, which is loaded on the cars at the siding, and sent to a Massachusetts mar- ket. Mr. Hubbard's on Lead Mine brook can only be run during the spring rise of water. They can wo/k up a hun- dred and filty cords of wood. t The summer hotels are not only a i source of profit to their owners, but af- r ford a home market for syrups, chickens, > eggs, butter or berries. c THE WINTHROP HOUSE. At the village was formerly the Dr. Howe stand. It accommodates thirty- five city boarders, and is open to tran- scient company beside. Josh Billings stopped here one season, and spoke a good word for Shelburne through the columns of the Xew York Weekly. Longft-llow also p-nt a day or two here an absent-minded, dreamy old man he seemed to those who saw him. The Post Office is in this building, and Charles Hebbard propriet r of tlie house, is also postmaster. THE ST. CHARLES is situated on high land, two miles and a half from Gorham. and commands an extensive view that is, if any view in theA.ndrosc;>ggin valley can be called extensive. Mr. Endicott, a western mer- 37 chant, who has stopped here several seasons, gave 250 and the town raised an equal sum to expend on the road from Gorh.im line to the nearest river bridge. Marked improvements were made near the b'ook above the school house and at Pea brook. Now it some generous soul would urge the expediency, and aid to cut oft' the top ol the Great Hill and graft it on to the bottom, we should em- balm hi? memory in our hearts and daily p ay that his path of life might be an easy grade. THE PHILBROOK HOUSE is the largest and handsomest, though iitey leceive only 25 guests. Good car- riages and horses and careful drivers are nady to take visitors to all places of in- terest. Sometimes a gay party preter ;i ride in the hay-rack and the sweet, shrill laughter of the girls accords with tut- singing as the blended music rises ;iiid falls in the summer twilight. Up the north side of the river, across the Great Bridge down, the south side, and across the wire bridge at Gilead is round lite, square. THE LEAD MINE. More than sixty years ago Amos Pea- body discovered lead ore near the banks 38 ofthe'jreat brook, since called Lead Mine brook; but it was not till twenty- five years later that New York capital- ists became interested enough to investi- gate. A rich deposite of lead was found, and the mine tirst opened in the fall ot 1846. Two shafts were sunk in the bed ot the brook, and a tunnel projected thirty-live feet into the hillside. An en- gine pumped air into the shaft and water out of it. but the ore was hauled up by horses attached to a whimsey. Augus- tus Newell used to drive when the boys thought it I'm.- tnn to bit behind the horses and ride round the ring. A large framed building was erected in the basement, of which was the heavy crushing machinery and smelting works. Above were pleasant rooms for the -use of Mr. Luui. the superintendent, Mr. Farnham the boss, and others. A dining and cooking house, and sev- eral dwelling houses made quite a vil- lage. Thomas Culhane, who married the oldest daughter of Enoch Emery, began housekeeping in one of these log- houses, and here their little son was born. James Howard lived across the brook a little below. John Colby, the b^cksmith, was an inventive genius, and for years followed that will-o'-wisp perpetual motion. He had a wooden model that had run twelve years, and all his spare time while at the mine was spent in the vain effort to utilize his pet theories. He stuttered terribly, and was as homely a man as you'd meet in a day's journey. Bearing this io mind, the point of the following incident will be seen. In those days Natural Philosophy was not so general- ly understood as now, and Mr. Colby's assertion that we see a reflecting image instead of the object itself, met with con- temptuous unbelief. All his arguments and explanations went for nothing. Everybody could see the absurdity. One day Jim Gordon stood in the door, look- ing intently at .something outside. Wha \vha what do you see?" inquired Colby, going toward him. Turning till his eyes rested lull upon the philoso- pher, 'J on Ion replied with a comical ex- pression of reluctant conviction : I give it up. 1 can't see anything but an image." Ed Merril and Enoch llubbard built the big w;iier wheel and did most of the carpenter \\oik on the buildings. The (i re \\ as hauled from the shaft to the wash-house, as the framed house was called, crushed, silted, washed, or more. A quantity of ore was sent away, and ex- perts decided it was rich in silver and lead. In October, 1880, Washington Newell contracted to put up a shaft-house and boarding house. The lumber was haul- ed from Gorham and the buildings ready for use in less than four weeks. The mine seems to be a success. Fif- teen or twenty men are employed there at present. Recently five hundred pounds Milan, and then clowii the river, the journey requiring three days time. Girls were good walkers, and thought nothing of going from Capt. Evans' to Fletcher Ingalls 1 to meeting, or from one end of the town to the other to attend singing schools. hu.-kings. dances or quilting< One young girl talked over the moun- tains to attend protracted meeting at Milan. "They had different pieaching then.'' and it ought to have heen if ir cost so much to hear it. Oxen were used for farmwork. a>id a- soon as roads could be cut. the teamim: and most of the riding was done with them, Horses were kept by a few. and long journeys were made on horseback. When Stephen Messer returned from a visit to Andover he brought in his hand a willow stick foi a whip. On reaching home he drove that stick into the ground near his house, just above Moose river, Gorham, and the magnificent tree that sprang from it is the parent of all the English willows in this vicinity. Those in front of R. P. Peahody's were broken from the Clemens willow, near Moses Wilson's, an 1 were planted by his 45 Elvira and himself at least thirty- live years ago. Horses were formerly supposed to be able to carry all you could pile onto them, and it was no un- usual thing for a man to take his wife a>id one or 1 wo small children up behind him. Capt. Daniel Evans and Phila Clemens rode across the river together when they went to Esq. Ingalls' to be married ; and twenty years later their daughters, Eliza and Hepsy, rode to Lancaster to visit their aunt, Mrs. Good- dale. Sometimes accidents happened, as when John Clemeus started to go to a dance with Dolly Jackson. Probably the clinging arms around his waist, or the bright face so near his own, kind of fl ust rated him, for he lost his bearings, got into a deep hole, and swashed poor Dolly around in the water till she was wet to her waist. Sleighs were in use long before wagons were thought of. A lady of seventy- seven says she was out berrying when the h'rst wagon she ever saw passed by. but when she told her folks of the "four- wheeled carriage," thej r only laughed at her. never having heard of such a thing. The roads naturally run along as near the intervales as possible, and no materi- al change has ever been made. From Hanson Green's to Churchill Lary/s it 46 has been moved from the top of the hill to the base. From Andrew Jewett's to tlip Gates place a similar change has been made. From Jotham Evans' the road was on the intervale, but after the railroad went through the farms were *cut up in such narrow strips that Messrs Jotham and Henry Evans built a side hill road at their own expense. Near Moses' llock the road again diverged, coming out by the meeting house. Longer ago than the "oldest inhabi- tant" can remember, a rope terry run across from Man^on Green's intervale. Alfred Carlton kept a large boat that was sculled across, and later Enoch Hub- bard put in a rope ferry against his intervale. The road came up from the river just below Moses Wilson's. An English willow ;md a bed of red roses mark the site of a house on this road once occupied by Benjamin Clemens. After good ronds were built and the teaming from the upper part of the conn- try passed this w;iy. Shelburne became a. lively place. Three taverns founQ plenty of custom beside occasional com- pany at Barker liurbank's and Capt. Evans'. John Bin-bank's tnvern stand stood just back of Jotham Evans' stable. A long, low, unpaintcd house, the sign 47 hung on a post at the west, end. Like all public places at lhat time, an open bar was kept where liquor sold for three cents a glass. John Chandlers, near Moses Rock, was two story, painted red with white trimmings. While at work here Jeffer- son Hubbaid received the injury that crippled him for life, cutting his kne<- with a shave so badly as to cause a stiff jo'n t. George Green's, at the village, was a st-ige station and Post Office, find the best tavern between Lancaster and Port- land. A huge gilt bah hung out froin the ridge-pole, and on it in black letters was "George Green, 1817.'' Jonas Wells and Jefferson Hubbaid each served as hostler? and a hard berth it was. Often they had to be up every hour in the night. Horr Latham and others drove the shige to Lancaster twice a week. In the full of 1845 JJandall Pinkham made his first trip in the employ of IJaiker liur. bank. lie drove two horses, one for- ward of ihe other, on a single wagon, and his only passenger, from Lancaster was Lovita Ann Peabody. The August freshet in 1826, is remem- bered as a terrible, flood, but probably ih>Te has been nine I. 1 larger rainfalls 48 since. The banks of the river and brooks have worn away so much that now they hold a much larger volume of water. Peabody brook was a small, narrow stream, that one might step across, but according to eye witnesses a wall ot water, rocks and trees came suddenly rushing down, carrying all before it. A point of land on which was a rock maple eight or ten inches through, was cut off, and the little bridge swept away like a straw. The water rose to the doorstep of Mrs. Gates house near by, and a large rock dropped into a potash kettle stand- ing on the bank, showing the depth and force of the current. A little spot of and, planted \vitli com, was all that could be seen of the Great Island. Pota- toes were washed out, uncut grain laid flat and soaked in mud, and pumpkins torn from the vines went bobbing tip and down in the water. Joseph Lary and William Newell lost their entire crop of wheat from the Gates' intervales. As the water rose higher and higher the stocks were lifted up, and away tliey sailed down river. As great a rise of water occurred dur- ing the ice freshet of December, 1838. Hugh cakes of ice floated out over the fields, and before tlie w itc.r had time to subside it cleared off cold, and the whole 49 valley was one sheet of ice In the spring of 1851 Enoch Hubbar.l built a bridge across the river from riie Great Hock?, but owing to some defect or miscalculation it did not stand. Xothing daunted by his failure, the next spring Mr. Hubbard built again, and petitioned the selectmen for a road. It was refused, not from any particular fau.t in the bridge, but because many wanted it furthpr down the river at Gates' or Green's. But people found if much more convenient than the ferry, and at last the County Commissioners came down and laid out the dugway. It is said one of the selectmen, hoping to find a legal quibble in the proceedings, inquired : "Did you lay out the road to and from the bridge?" We laid out the road to and from the bridge and right across it." Was the crushing reply. The natives called it the Great liiver bridge, but it was re-christened Lead' Mine bridge by city visitors, it being a fashionable resort for artists and roman- tic young couples. Ic did good service for fifteen yeais, and then one night quietly dropped down. The next one was built by the town ; Merrill Head, Caleb Gates and 50 Jotliam Evans building committee An abutment; of stone was put in by Moses Mason in place of the old log one, and a bridge, built under the direction of Na- hurn Mason. This was blown down in November. 1870. and rebuilt the follow, ing winter by Enoch Ilubbard and John Newell. Much discussion and opposi- tion has been raised on the subject of a bridge. Some are in favor of a road through to Gorh;im on the north side. Others want the bridge at Green's ferry, where the river is wider, the banks lower and the intervales flooded at everj' rise of water. So tWr coimnonsense. ha pre- vailed over prejudice and self-interest. and a good bridge stands on the only good site in town. The building ot the Grand Trunk Rail- road through Slielburntj beg.in i i 1851. Most of the workmen were IrUliin.'ii who camped along by the way with their wives and children. Th-yonly req-iired limited quarters. Mr. Kebbard's wood- shed affording ample accommodation for three families. The ho-ises, or hovels, rather, which they made for themselves were simply four posts set in th" ground boarded over and banked M, ott-n o th ; eaves, with earth. A Inive! stuck inon'i side allowed some of t!i' j , efHivia to escape. Ther were two cl issi-s or clans 51 of these workmen, Corkrnen and Far- downs; anil a fight always signalized their meetings. Porter's Ledge was so called from the contractor who cut the road tnrough it. In July. 1852, an engine, the Jennie Lind. came up is far as Potter Smith's, now John Wilson's. Such a sight as it was lor old and young ! Even the few who lu.d seen an engine before had never heard the whistle. "O, how funny it did sound!'' says one. Much of the wonder was due to the lack of newspapers. Very little was known of the outside world. The electric light and various kinds of ma- chinery were as wonderful inventions, but we. heard of them at every stage of their progress, and when finally perfect- ed the wonder had fled. It was only what we had long expected. Jefferson Hubbard was appointed station agent, a position he held till his death in 1877. About two years ago a siding was put in at the bridge crossing, and thousands of cords of wood and bark have been sent to market from there. Upon tiie advent of the railroad Shel- burne's prosperity began to wano. In thirty years her population has decreas- ed one half. Yet Shelburne is not a bad plac'i in which to make a home. Most 52 of the farms are capable ot a high state of fertility, work is plenty at fair price;, and Gorliam affords a good market and plenty ot entertainments and school privileges to those who wish to avail themselves jf them, CHAPTER V, CHURCHES AND SCHOOLS, Solitude and danger conduce to a de- votioual frame ot mind. Cut off from human aid, we instinctively turn to the Divine. Alouo with tlie vastness of Nature ihe cnaracter acquires a depth and earnestness i'i harmony witn tne gloom ot the Ibiests and ihe rugged grandeur ot tlie mountains. Natural phenomena, tliat modern science lias re- duced to meie curiosities, were formerly regarded as I >iernn::ers of dire calami- ties; war, pestilence, and even the de- struction of tne world. But few taini.ies averl here during the dark day May lv) h, 1781), but douOtless tiiose t'evv sintered moie ment il Hguny than would oe poo^ioie to us of to-day. A brilliant display ot .lortnern lights has twice been seen ; unco before tile war ot 1812 two lines exten l>-d across the sky, and flashes of ligi-t p. i.-sed from one to the otlier. Finally iii.- western line ab- sorbed the other, and they fide 1 out. Of course after the war every' oily knew the we*tern line meant the victorious American army. In the year 1834 or 1835. \vh:it is known as the red northern lights were seen. In the north-east lay a heavy red cloud, something like a thunder pillar. In the wierd light the snow looked as though stained with hlood. The Bible was I he only hook of reference, and the timid aud irreligious remembered with a thrill of hoiror that "the rivers shall be turned into blood before that great and terrible day." Pious men. fearing they knew not what, gathered their families and their neighbors around them and prayed for "the peace that passeth understanding." Many of Shelbnrne's first settlers were pious men and women, and the Sabbath ;md family worship wa? stiictly observed in their new homes, but the first public religious gei vices were conducted by Fletcher Ingalls. Every Sunday for years "1111016 Fletcher's" house was well filled, many walking four or five miles. Young girls went barefooted or wore their every day shoes and stockings till within sight of the house, when they stopped under a big tree and put on their best morocco slippers and white 54 stockings. The seats were benches, kept carefully clean, not quite so comfortable as the cushioned pews in the chapel, but better tilled, and we think the long, dry ser- mons Mr. Ingalls used to read were received without cavil. People believed as they were taught instead of wander- ing off into speculation by themselves. The reading over, exhortations were made by Samuel Wheeler, Edward Green and others. The singers were Nathaniel Porter, Jonathan Lary and his sisters, Betsy. Hannah and Mercy, and in fact most of the worshipers took part in this exercise. S nnetiiues a stray shepherd chanced along and fed this flock. Me*sr?. Pettingill, Jordan, Hazeltine. Triekey. Austin Wheeler and Elder Hutchiuson were Free-will Baptists. Sewall. Hidden. Richardson and Burt Congregationali- - ts. Scores of interesting and curious inci- dents are related of these primitive Christian?, who at least possessed tin; virtue ot sincerity. One summer the drouth was very sev.-re, threatining to destroy the crops. At the conclusion of the regular Sunday services Deacon Green requested all those who were in- terested ami had faitli in prayer to meet at his house to pray for lain. Th^ir petitions ptoved not only fervent bn t 55 effaeious. for before they wen- finished a terrible thunder shower aro-e ar.d the deacon's shed was blown clear across the road. The first church of which we find any record was organized 1818 a< the Church of Christ, with seventeen num- bers : Edward Green. Lydia Ordway, Samuel Wheeler, Anna Win eier. Reuben Hobart, Anna Hobart. Amos P^abody, Mehitable Ordway, Laskev Jackson. Alepha Hob ire, Cornelius Bearce, Lydia Beanre. John Wilson, Lucy Wheeler. The signatures are written on stiff, mi- ni IM! paper, yellow with ;ig->. and would f'>ri'i an interesting study to tho^e who pretend to read character by the hand- writing. The best specimen is tl.e name of Lucy Wheeler, very fine and distinct, and written with good black ink. while In others the ink 1ook# as though it hid been frozen. In 1832 the meeting h>nse was built; RoDert Ingall?, Edward Green. George Green and Barker Burbank being build- ing committee. It was dedicated a> a Five Church. Jotham Sewall preached the dedicatory sermon, and four or live other clergymen, Free-will Bapti&t and Congregational, were present. Al! the best singers in town had been well train- 56 ed by the choirister, John Kimball, and the long, difficult Easter Anthem from the Ancient. Lyre was skillfully rendered. A schedule of time for the year 1838 gives the Congregationalism twenty-four Sundays, the Free-will Baptists twenty- five. Universalists one, and Methodist!* two. Whenever the pulpit was unoccu- pied Deacon Life Burbank or Fletcher Ingalls read a sermon, or Samuel Whal- er and others exhorted. In 1841 a new organization was formed, called the Shelburne Free-will Baptist Church. The covenant is in the hand- writing of Stephen Hutchin.'nn, anl arti- cle 3d provides that "we, agree to ex-r- cise a suitable care one of another {,> pro- mote the growth of the whole body in Christian knowledge, holiness, and co n- fort to the end. that we may all stand complete in the will of God." Article 8, k% We will frequently exhort, and if occa- sion require, admonish one another ac- cording to direction* in Matt. IS. We, will do this in a spirit of meekness con- sidering ourselves lest we also trans- gress, and as in baptism we have b en buried with Christ an I raised again, so there rests 0:1 us a special obligation to walk in newness of life." Delegate- w^re sent regularly to the quarterly conferences with a ie,>ort of the religions 57 condition of the church. Of :he eight original members only oi.e is still living. Mrs. Stephen Hutchinson. In 1848 the membership had increased to thirty- three. Of these more than hull' have since joined the Church, triumphant, prominent among whicli are Stephen Hntchinson. Mr. & Mr*. Stephen Pea- body, Samuel Wheeler and Jon is Green. The Congregational Church was form- ed many ye-irs : go. but there was 10 regular organization of Methodists till Daniel Barker was stationed here in 1801 . Dnrii g the following two years there w.-is ; , great revival. Night aft r n'ght livi'ly an 1 interesting meeting.* were held at Mr. Palmer's. Mr. Hebh ird's or Mr. Hall's. It is an "in decided question whether such religions excitements are advisable. Certainly a proponio .at' 1 re- action always follows. Mr. SincI iir snc- c 'died Mr. Barker; but though he came over from Bartlett every other Sunday. braving the cold winds and deep snows, the interest gradually abated. From this time till the reform move- ment, only occasional meetings were held. City ministers, Orthodox or Episcopal, sometimes preached h ilf a dav during th<- summer. The old church was fast going to ruin, to say notlrng of i he people themselves. The temperance 58 wave struck Shelburne broadside. Such excitement, such rallying to the work, such confessions of weakness, such promises of future uprightness! The blacker the sin the greater the reforma- tion, and it was awful to hear one manly idol after another shatter himself in the presence of his adoring female relative s and friends, A good, moral young man, who never drank a glass of intoxicating liquor in his life, was nowhere; but the most dissipated were greeted with deaf- ening cheers. Lecturers labored to prove that alco- hol in all its forms was a deadly poison, equal to arsenic or strychnine, yet one member of the association said Miat he had probably drank a barrel for every year of his life! He must have bet-n poison proof. Only one person in all,the town, A. J. Bartlett, ridiculed the move- ment and persistently refused to sign th : pledge. 'I'll give you two years to get to the end of your rope/' he said one day, .ificr a hot argument witli an enthusiastic. Ironclad. He did not live to see the fulfillment of his prophecy, but he gave them time enough. One evening, some months he- fore the second aniversary, the President requested all those present who hu.l not 59 sig ted the pledge to rise, and only one solitary Frenchman responded. p]very- body had reformed. The work was done. What sense in strutting for \vh-'t we already have? The li"form Club meet- ings changed to prayer meetii g. Mr. W. W. Baldwin, the Methodist minister st itioned at Gorhain. came down half a ilav each Sabbath, and an inteiest was awake ied that increased during the next year, when Mr. Chandler preached. The meeting house was repaired and re-dedi- cated in September, 1877. The death of Miss Fannie Ilubbai'd the Ibllo \ving-books, Walsh's and Welsh's arithmetics, and Olney's geography. Tlie geography would be quite a curiosity to young peo- ple now. Michigan, Indiana and Illinois were territories. Mississippi Territory was bounded north by Tennesee. enst by Georgia, south by Florida, which be- longed to the Spanish, and west by the Mississippi river. Louisiana was divid- ed into two governments, State and Territory. Tin State comprised tlie Iland of Oile;ins. tht^ country ea^t of ih.' Mississippi to tlie Perdido. aim all west of it south of latitudi- 33. The Territory was bounded south by the sta:e of Louisiana, west by Mexico, east by Tea- nesee. Keiitueky. ai.d Illinois and Miss- issippi territories, and nort'.i by unex- plored region*. Supposing one of ihe teachers in 1815 or '20 ha 1 thus addr-ss- ed the class in geography: Children, those of you who live to be elderly men and women will see all that blank space on the map of the United States dotted with towns and cities; an iron horse, capable of drawing ten or a doz"ii farri- ages as large as this school room, at the rate of a mile in one minute, will cany 63 you fror:) George Green's intervale to the fartheiest verge of that unknown r<'gi'n in eight or ten days. Y m will hand a shori: letter directed to a frit-mi in Boston r ,o a man at the depot, aiiil in ten iniiuites you will receive the answer. You can go to the summit of ML. Moiiah and converse in your ordinary tone* with M friend in Shelburne Addition. That burning spring which is now - ganle'l as one of the curiosities of Virgi- nia will prove to be the outlet of a vatt, subterranean lake ot oil. much superior for illuminating purposes to tallow can- dle? or pitch pine knots, and after this oil has come into general use a new lijjhi will be invented or discovered (which?) that will rival the sun in brilli- ancy.'' Wouldn't the whole school have stop- ped study to listen to such outrageous fallacies? Wouldn't the parents have b^en all by the ears and the committee l)i e i blamed to death for hiring snch a teacher? Yet how far short would the prophecy fall of the reality? Viewing the I tit n re by thejmst, have we the right to say anything is impossible? E>q. Bui-bank's sons and A. R. Evans we believe are the only Shelburne boys wiio have been through college, and the only natives now engaged in teaching 64 are the Misses Lary and Ernest Hnbbard. C. S. Cuminiiig-s, of Paris, is also a suc- cessful uml populiir teacher. The l.-iw allowing women a voice in school meeting is of no practical value in this conservative town, and on general principles we doubt its propriety. San ford Hnbbard, Fannie Philbrook and Edward (ireen are examining com- mittee. Mr. Hnbbard is sail! to be very thorough in his examinations, and who- ever receives a certificate may be con- sidered amply qualified to teach all the studies required. The way in which the first generation acquired the art of singing is as doubtful as how they learned the alphabet. As most of the parents were singers perhaps the children took it up naturally. Tiie, first singing masters that those now living can remember, were Reuben Ho- bart and John Kimbull. "Mr. Kimb:ill could sing more base than any six men now-a-days." No doubt they could all make good music from tlie pieces in the Handel and Ilalyn anil the Ancient Lyre, but h^ard across., the wide waste of years perhaps it sounds s\ve/ter to- day than at first. Jefferson Hnbbard taught in the church some tiiii ty-'our or five years ago. and n?ed a book in which fiirure-5 were used to denote the sonn 1 65 Horatio Newell was the la?t singing master here, and taught iti the red school- house above the village. Before closing this chapter we wish to relate a little incident of school life; one of those every day happenings that bor- der so clo despair when some one. suddenly came across her in the pasture north of tin. house, fast asleep on a log. The j>ndd-n reaction of feeling completely unnerved Mr. Smith, and snatching up his recover- ed baby, he cried over her like a child. The possibility that a few step? or a lew minutes might have consigned the little one to a fearful and lingering death, is on'High to cause a shudder even now. When Abigail Leavitt was lo.-t fr.-m Esq. Moses Ingalls' ?hn came. out. in Bi-tliel or Newry. But a quarter of ;i mile more to the northward and site would have missed the settlements, and been hopelessly lost in a vast, unbroken wilderness. CHAPTER VI. AMUSEMENTS. Whatever im crests and diverts the mini] niiiy be called amusement, ev< j n though considerable physical exertion is mingled with it. Before men played croquet or lawn tennis they took pride, in trials of strength or courage. Moses I: galls was offered a lot ot land to climb the smooth incline on ilu; north side of Me. Winthrop. It is said he ran up in his stocking teet as easily as a cat, and thus, by a single exhibition of skill and daring, gained a remembrance and a monument that uuirtyrs and heros might envy. A little to the wes- ot the top of Moses' Hock (let no iconoclast dare change its name) may be seen a pine stump. It stands undor a projecting ledge, and leans over a sheer descent of at least a hundred feet. By the aid of a tree at the foot of the precipice Thomas Green, Jr.. climbed up and cut off the tree that once grew on it. We do not learn how he got down. Getting up seemed to be the main point, and he evidently had laith in the old saying that his weight \\ould briny; him down. 68 Chopping bee* were quite popular- while people were clearing their farms, an 1 must have been fun, inasmuch as men often went five or six miles and con- sidered a good dinner and what, rum they could drink as ample pay for a hard day's work. Two sons of Atuo? Peabody came very near being killed at one of these gatherings. They wanted to go ouc und see the drive. "Be sure and hallo before you get there,'' cautioned their mother. "O yes,'' they promised readily, anl boy like, never thought, of it again. In their eagerness to reacli tue men they got too near, and were caught by the tailing trees. A;iron was thrown down by a big spruce, but the limbs kept it from quite touching the jjroun I. and the boy was got out uni jured, though "a hen could hardly have crawl- ed through where he lay." Enoch fared worse; as a tree came down over him, hishea I auJ shoulders sh t throng i be- tween a limb and the body, hut so elo-e was the chance that a stub grazed his head, cutting a gash four or live inehrs long. Oscar Phipps, a brother of Pet r Phipps. was instantly killed while at work for Barker Burbank. Uncle Fletch- er saw Joe Connor come out in gr.-at haste, and fearing an accident he caught up his camphor bottle, that ever handy remedy of old times, and hurried to the clearing; but it was too late for earthly remedies. The unfortunate man's skull had been crushed. Such casualties, however, were not common. With or- dinary care the work was not particular- !}' dangerous. Sportsmen would now be very glnd to find a flock of pigeons, especially if there was to be a shooting match with an oyster supper at the end; but seventy five years ago these birds were so thick that every effort was made to get rid of them. Ttiey were caught by hundreds in nets or traps. The traps were made of small poles arranged like the front side of a chicken coop, an inch or two apart, and narrow strips of board were nailed round the edges, making a sort of lavgf. shallow box. To catch the birds this frame was propped up on one edge, a rope tied to the prop and carried hack belli nd a screen of boughs where the hunter was hidden. A horizontal bar or pole was put up six or eight feet high tor them to light on, and grain scattered undi-r the trap. One by one they flew down from the perch, always leaving one as a sentinel; the rope was pulled, the trap dropped, and the unlucky birds run their heads up through the slats 70 only to have them twisted off. They made capital soups and chicken pies. "O how nice and tender the little things would be!" we exclaimed. "Tender!" witn a contemptuous smile at our ignor- ance, "they were tough as tiipe and blue as whetstones !" One morning, as many as fifty years ago, Amos Peabody cahed to his family: "Just couie and see what a nock of pigeons!" A column of these bird.s seemed to come from back of Old Crag und stretch across the eastern bky 10 Moses" Rock. For some time neither end could be seen, nor was there a break in the line. It was a grand exodus. Like the moose and deer they fled be- fore the advance of civilization. Wrestling was often carried to such extremes as to become injurious. Two young fellows got into a dispute one summer evening, and one endeavored to put the other ouc of the shed. Tht-y struggled for nearly two hours, and tne younger and lighter of the pair, now eighty years old, says he never fairly got over it ; yet he thinks it a terrible thin^ for a boy to break a liciger or black an eye playing base ball. To be the cham- pion wrestler of the town was as much honor as to be the champion walker now. A man wh > came over from Fryeburg 71 once; stumped any Shelbtirne fellow to lay him on his back. He was pretty heavy and self-confident, and for some time no one cared to take hold of him; but the night of Enoch Emery's husk- ing, when the good liquor made them smart and brave without being top- heavy, a small, lean, wiry fellow stepped up and announced himself ready to up- hold the honor of the town. After a short struggle the Fryebnrg man lifted his little opponent, to throw him over his head; but instead, a quick, dexterous and wholly unexpected turn knocked him oft' his legs, and down he went like a iog. Alter a second trial the stranger acknowledged he had met his match, and the hills echoed the triumphant cheers. A real old-fashioned dance was the place for plenty of pleasure. One gentle- man now living could wear out a pair of thin boots during the night, and keep school all the next day. At a grand ball given at John Chandler's Mrs. George and Mrs. Thomas Green each wore black silk dresses; the short, strait skirt, plain waist and sleeves, requiring only six yards of material. Others wore calico or stamped cambric. A mulatto by the name of Johnson played the fiddle till three o'clock in the morning. 72 In 1828 a meraagerie was exhibited at Green's. The- cages containing lions, tigers, leopards, monkeys and on with a hyena (or kieny, as Mr. Ordvvay inform- ed his boy) were arranged round the barn yard, and seats vvere also put in to accommodate the visitors. The big elephant was in the barn; the double doors being just high enough to let him through without scraping his back. A tent for the circus part was on the inter- vale close by, and an exhibition of wax- works in the house. Mrs. William Newell, Mrs. James Austin ami Mrs. Thomas Green attended, each with an infant a few weeks old. Times havs changed since then. Now-a-days women ignore their babies as far as possible, seldom taking them to public assemblies and never to church. One Fourth of July some fifty years ago a liberty pole was raised on ihe hill near the meeting house, Alter singing and prayer a short oration was delivered by Judge Ingalls, and the audience went down to Green's tavern to dinner. Formerly gins attended hufekings and boys quiltings, and alter the work was done they had a dance. When farmers could raise a hundred bushels of ears of corn to the acre they didn't mind a little waste, and sometimes the corn was 73 thrown round and the fodder trampled on in a way that could not be tolerated now. Quillings, too, are out of date. Xo more are made of the pressed woolen quilts with their intricate patterns of roses and sunflowers. Even, the more modern patchwork is now seldom used for anything but taokecl puffs. Raisings and haulings brought to- gether all the people in town, and were as handy tor the diffusion of news as a local newspaper. When Judge Ingalls' barn was raised the dinner was tastefully- arranged on a long table out of doors, and at short distances apart for the whole length were handsome decanters anil glasses. When liquor was only ton cents a quart, with no prejudice against its use, a man would have been thought lacking in hospitality had he neglected to provide a plenty. -'Didn't people fivquently get intoxicated?'' we asked. No; you wouldn't see a man drunk oftiMie.r than now. The liquor was better than t\\v pieen stuff you get now, and didn't My into the head." At Mr. fn- galls' raising Erastus Hubbard met with quite a serious accident. He (ell head- long from the plate on to a pile of rocks. John Burbank and Dr. Watson, who were al take their steers across the Great Island in the winter and bring Mrs. Goodale and her daughter Delphina over on the little sled. Jn the summer Elbridge had a sort of cart called a bumblebee; the wheels being simply wide trucks sawed from a huge log. When the children were confined within doors they parched corn in the ashes, made wooden oxin. yokes, windmills, sawboys. and in fact an infinite variety of playthings that af- forded as much pleasure as articles cost- ing two or three dollars would now. One little girl had a play-house in a V i 77 hollow pine stump. Her dolls were only bits of linen rolled up. but with their aid she enacted runny scenes from a:i ide:il drama, dreamed m;my dreams ih:it were nnver told and never reali/ed. and wove many fancies that the future wa>hi'd out in tears. The day before fhe tiff i lelt home to work out she play- ed till the alternoon shadows had drank th sun-hiue, then carefully arranged the little caricatui 1 ' s of humanity in their mossy beds, put up the bark door an I lett them, never to return to the heo child life acain. At present our stock of recreations is small; ba?e ball is played out; the Maple Leaves are fallen; the Silver Si ars have set ; lyce- ums fall through fur \\ai.t of support. O dy the Sewing CirAle. at the lower end of the town seems to thrive, anil ocea- *ionally <>ives necktie festivals or oyster suppers. 78 CHAPTER VII. THE INDIANS, Newspapers are so plenty now-a-duys that \\eaie lamii.ar \\iih all tne details ol lolly and crime. An account ot ihe killing 'l one or two men by Indians Won la Oe given but a passing tnuug.it, but ill one's o\\ii town sucli lneiueiiis assume an iiupurtu.ice not accorded by the world at large. On the mor.iing of August 3. 17ol, just one hundred years ng>, a p.iriy ot .six Indians, painled and armed \vnh guns and lonianawKS. came out ot lue \\oudaat liei.nel, t.ieu e.ilieU oudOur^ ; llit-ro lliey took lour prisoners, Juu.tlliaii and Benjamin ('i.uk. Jo.ialliuii Acgaf iind Eleazer i'xvitclieil. At Uiiead i::-y took Jauiea i'eitingill, bin lor suine uu- k.iovvu iv-ajon lie was Killed and scalped \\uen u shji't. distance ii'oin the. hi>na.*. Tvo cniidren, Nancy a:.d biCinen JMi-s- s>-r, wire pliymg m a omok a iiuie iar- tller on. ai.U ino Indians ;i>kc I Uiein it' any nii-u \ve.re in t.ie next h ni.-e. '1'i.ey never could leli Wiiat possessed them lo answer as Liiey did. "i'es, Uiere are ten men, and ih^y all h.ivt; g.ms.'' lint tlieir un reason, ng answer pr,.bably saved their father's iiic. tor he was aluiie m 79 the house, aiu! had often said he never would be taken alive. J'einemlKTing the cruel, treacherous nature of the savage, it seems wonder- ful that they did not kill the children outright, instead of unit-ring them to keep on down to Mr. PettingiU's. To avoid passing a house they thought so well guartleu the Indians crossed the AnUroscoggiii and went up to Hope Au.-tin'y, on the north side. Ili-re they killed an ox rind picked up eyeryihing of value. No harm was dene the family, tiiougii they were much frightened, and Mrs. Au-tin *aiil : "My Judy and my Jt-ems hung right io my elixir all the limn old Tumpty Magau was there." Mr. Austin was *ip to Capt. iiidge's. He saw Peter Poor shot, clown, and frantic. v\ ii h lear tied down ihe mill brook and across the river to Deacon Ingalls', where he found his wife and children. Elijah, the Deacon's son, had been taken prisoner, but was released, some say on UiMjuuiii of his ino.h r's grief, but it is more 1 kely their own superstition led them to respect the unfortunate boy. Mr. ll'nige is supposed to have been a Tory, an I certainly he did seem to have a good understanding with his unex- pected guests. If he had untied the prisoners' hands, as Clark begged him to 80 do, the Indians might hnvc nil been cap- tured while down in the cellar; but lie not only permittul them to take what they wanted, but evtn brought foiwaid things himself. In the meantime, Mr. Me.ser search- ing to i his cliilur n. tumid Mrs. Pi-i tin- gill \Yiilkii. i hu floor iin.l wriiigiug her hinds, while all around her \\ere un ken dishes a. id lurnilipe. She told him her husband \\as a prisoner, not k lowing liis more teirible late. The liule s-etile- meiit colhctt-d io^>etii< r. and Irarin^; the savage eiiemii-s mi^ht n turn, tney went iijii.u llai'k Hill and spent tl.e ni^ht Bi-tsy Me->er l'oiute.:ii y ars old. carried her bio.her riamtiel o . her back. Nancy, her sisier. was too younij t icali/.e ihf situation, a. id her only memory ol tlie terrib.e ni^ht was ih,; irr.itatii g toitnre ot tlie blai-k tlies an i inosquiii.es. The next day the settlers t ok their cattle aad \\hit few household articles they could carry and went to Fry e burg aUvl btayetl till spring. This was tlie la.-t murderous raid the Indians made in these parts, but for some years parties of them appeared, occasionally drinking, lighting, and scaling women and child) en. Five or six c.ime to Mi. Messer's one day. grounJ up their knives, dug up a patch SI <>f English turnips and -raved rounJ as (hough possessed oi the evil one. An- other lot went to Deacon Green's and wanted to borrow a tin dish. Anxious to gain their good will Mrs. Green gave them u i.ew pi-it dippei. They then went up to Chandler'*, got a supply of ruin, slopped by the roadside, and danc- ed, while one of the number kept time on the ba.-in. It must be the band was ctiealed ot its share <>:' the stimulant, for though 01. e alter anothtr ol the dancers droppeu down in a drunken sleep the music grew more rapid and vigoious. Afur li. e melody was all battered out of the i.ew lin dipper the honest injun'' carried it back, and as he handed it to Mrs. Ijrcen \\ith a polite bow he over- balanced and pitched headlong into the lire- j. lace. Aloll LocKet and her daughter, Moll ;Sy.su p. us-ed to pass through here occa- sionally, and later Billy Williams and his wife, buliy Mitchell, made and sold bas- kets, i'ney bad tVko little boys, one of which \\as named tor Ton: Hegan, more commonly called by old people Tumpty Magau. Very rarely now we see an Indian pedler witn his packs ot fancy baskets and bead-embroidered cushions, but he bears little resemblance to his \\ilcl and savage ancesters. 82 SHELBURXE'S SOLDIERS. Sever. il of the first se' tiers were Rev- olutioiiiiry soUiers. Evans. Clemens, Wnealer. Lary, and peihaps others of which we did not hear. Tco| lec- tion (if w.iioh terrible homesirk longings stirs the iiurator. and semis a spmpa- thetic thrill through t!ie heart ot the 83 listener. One, of the first to respond to his country's call was Albion Abbott, adopted son of Dank-l Evans, lie was in the 5th New Hampshire, under Col. Cross, and supposed to have been killed at Fredricksbnrg. A comrade stood by I. is side when the orders came to charge, and shortly after reco^ni/ed his gnu and knapsauk. which were covered with blood. Nothing more was ever heard. Whether he, was instantly killed and buried with others in one common grave or wa-s wounded and languished lor w'tk> or months in hospital, will never he known, Henery Gates enli-ted in the 4th Maine ttattery. He was in eleven eu- jfiijfem.Mits. nd though never wounded was otten nearly exliaii ted with fatigue. One ol the satlest incidents of his three years' campaign was the execution of a deserter. The solemn and impres- sive ceremonies, and I he tia^ic death of tiie po r fellow, made a deep impression (HI Mr. Hates' mind. Ira Gates went from Boston in the. Massachusetts 13th. Solomon Wilson was killed at the battle ol Fredrieksbur*:. Darius Green was detailed for hospital d;iiy at Ship Island, where Butler's division was starioncd. This Island is nine miles long by one, half mile wide, 84 and was a fashionable resort in hot weather, being only about thirty miles liom New Orieans. Mr. Un-en says one halt was covered with snow-white *and, and m<: otuer wiiu nui\i ptue, cedar a. id ahgatura'. Ad lie was mere six uiontns, and aii w an alligator sixteen leel iun^, we allow mat ho knows. bunloid liiiojurd. Albert Green and H.iriuil lu^uils enlisted tugnther in me -\,i\ j , and relurned m ?uiet.y iu ttiu cio.-'; Ot l.iC War. O.ie day in November, 1SU5. while waiting in ihe E.isieru dej
    .mi ;I[I[KU-I inly man a pieoauliuii. lor on recognising our eoiii[>a.-iiuu, Ambrose JucMiuia Lnl'eW oil' Ouie ov'erco.it, ..11 i slipped lhroa^,li LUe window like an eel. he was 111 LUe 0>;bt ot ipinia', uud stayed till juat uetoru me tram ttuiu-d, w.ie.i wiiu me cool auuachy mat eh.nuetL-ii/.^s bim, lie \vali\cd up LO me ^uard and le- queaieJ aJuiitauce. lie noon louud u way lo get OacK, liowever, bringing ins rations wilti turn, and in s'pltc 01 me unld suggestion ol me couducior "II ^ou arc u aoiiiier ^ our place la bacK witli tue rest ol tbem,'' he remaiueJ till we leti at 85 Dover. Mr. Jackman's native wit and shievvilness, coupled willi a demure un- consciousness of evil, carried him through uiiiny a scrape that would have tried the nerve of older men. But this reckless audacity charged to heroism when he nuiscd tlie small pox patients in the hospital, nursed the sick and eared tor the dead when they were so loathsome v\ ith the di.-ease that the flesh sloughed from their bones. Woodbury Jaekman. Delevan Iluh- bard. John Newell, William Ingalls and Jiiifus llodgdon euisted in the 17th New ilampshire, but wern transferred to the 2d. Mr. Jaekman was slightly wounded in the Gettysburg battle, and came home in the fall. Mr. Huhhard lo;t two fingers from his r'ght hand while in camp at Concord, and was ?oon after discharged. Mr. Newell was tak^n siek soon alter reaching Washingion, went to the hospital at Philadelphia, and .-tayed all summer. Mr. Ingjills and Mr. Ilodgdon both d'.ed and their re- mains were, brought home for burial. Leland Philbrook dieJ of spotted fever. He was brought home ard funeral services he'd at Mr. Harvey Phillnooks.' Josiali Black and his sons did not en- list from Shelburne. but the family re- moved here soon after, and are well 86 known. Mr. Black served in tho Ma : ne 1st uud lUtli. ll was stationed one winter at ila'-pcr's Ftrry. David \\ as in tlie 5tli Maine Battery, and saw many hir I bailies. Lawson was wounded in the leg an I ta!t sickness was the last. Harriet died dur- ing the typhoid lever. A married daughter, Mrs. Manson Green, and three grown up sons. Simeon. Henry and Charles, were claimed by Death \\itliin 12 years. Broken in health and spirits Mr. Stevens was the next victim, an*! in little more than a year Ellen, the young- est daughter, followed him. It would seem that th*5 insatiate conqueror was now satisfied. Herbert, tlie joni.gest son, married Josie Martin and remained at home with his mother. He was a tail, rugged looking young man, the very embodiment ot h.-aMitul lite. A Ititie daughter was born, but tne sweet blos- som faded in five short mouths. In just two years an infant son was taken from the ill-lated tamily, and Herbert was in the last stages of consumption. It was a sad funeral, doubly sad, but the sym- pathies of the friend; anil neighbor^ were not so much for th^ sorrow-stricken mother a:id suffering lather as lor the poor old grandmother, so uiteriy crnslvd an 1 helpless she Deemed when led out to join the procession. It was the last time she rode over the familiar road as a mourner, f>r when Herbert died she was too ill to see him laid in his last resting- place. For six months she battled with incurable disease, literally struggling for breath, and :hen was mercifully re- leased. The oldest son, Joseph, Drifted off out west, and from there to Australia and has been lost sight of for many year?. Living or dead he is as lost to his friends as though sleeping in his grave. Of all the onee pleasant family only one daughter, Mr*. Loren Evans, remains. A? we have read the suc- cessive chapters in tin's story of real life, it bus seemed sadder and sadder, though we know there are worse afflic- tions than death, bitterer d's.ippoint- ment and more, overwhelming soirow,' over the wayward living than over the peaceful dead. A little slate headstone marks the ppit where lie two children of Stephen Pea- bofly. victims of throat distemper; Amelia, a promising chill of eight, and D:miel aged two. Little Danny, forty- seven years in his narrow grave, is still a precious baby in the hearts and minds of hU friends. Time never shall silver the golden hair nor wiinkle the rosy dimpled face. Enoch Peabody had a son of the same age, and hoping to es- 94 eape the pestilence he removed t<> Berlin. Al'an IVabody went up with th<-m. and he drove away little Allan, hi* niiiic- *ake. said sorrowfully : "I never'll see El again. ' "O yes you will," replied his mother, "next we< k you shall go down and make H visit."' But he on!y shorik his golden head and repeated sadly, "I iiever'll see El ajjain." And he; never did. Tlie dread disease tli'-y Hod from was on their track, and little Allan's next week was in eternity. In the same row lies Edith, oldest daughter of R. P. Peabndy. "How shall we know her? We were so sail, As we saw Iwr last in her grave clothes clail, But the eye and the smile shall greet us there As Ihey shone on earth, but mure dazzling fair, And in robes of white i:i that radiant sphere She will bear the likeness she once bore hero." In the next row back is buried all that is mortal of Mary Ellen, oldest daughter of Allan Peabody, a lovely and intelli- gent girl of twenty-two. Knowing and loving her from childhood perhaps our judgement may be partial, but to us s^he possessed rare capabilities for usefulness and happiness. With only limited school privileges she acquired a thorough Enjrli*h education, and was conversant with the best literature of the day. She was in failing health for two years, and during the last few weeks her disease ys Assumed a most di?tj'e?sing form; hut .lip from our embrace, and vainly we strive to follow their flight through the darkness ot futurity. No tender voice comes back to cheer us, no loving hands stretch out to guide us, but an inborn faith points to a single star of hope, 'though weeping may endure for a night, joy cometh in the morning." END OF PART FIRST. 96 HISTORY OF THE SHELBURNE BY MRS. R. P. PEABODY. (Continued irom MOUNTAINEER, No. 6, 1881.) (History of Shelburne, page 42.) Three or four years later, the local agent. Barker Burbank, hired Ben Morse and Koswell Peabody to crush the ore remaining on hand, and pack it into barrels. In 1855 the property changed hands, and about that lime a Mr. Pinch came on. put in a few blasts, and partly emptied one shaft ; but nothing came of it. and for many years after the mine was deserted save by occasional visitors, curious to see the rusty machinery and the shafts, which were only round spots 97 of water, blinking like greut eyes in the sunlight. The dam rotted down, rocks and debris buried the engine, and the houses were fast going to ruin. Finally the machinery was sent to the foundery at Lancaster, and what remained of the buildings sold to El bridge Peabody. In the spring of 1880 a new company was organized under the name of the Shelburnc Mining Co., with a Capita! Stock of $500,000. The office is at No. 93 Exchange St., Portland. Me., and the President, L. D. M. Sweat, and all the Directors but one are residents of that city. The property consists of a tract of mineral land eighty rods square, having for its centre the main shaft sunk by the old company. In his report of the mine. Prof. C. H. Hitchcock, State geologist of New Hampshire. s:iys : ''The ore closly resembles the mass of ores taken out of the Comstosk. It would puzzle most of us to separate the specimens from Slieiburne an 1 Nevada, were two piles of the ore from the two localities mixed together. The quantity of this ore is immense, averaging sixteen feet thick and eighty rods long, extending downward indefinitely. " "Quartz from the very bottom of the shaft is said to have yielded $10.00 in 98 gold, besides silver. Excellent speci- mens of galena have also come from a great depth as well as handsome pieces of brittle silver.'' Four samples sent by the company yielded : 1st sample, 5(54 per cent lead. 32 Ibs silver to the too. 2d sample. 43 per cent lead, 36 Ibs silver to the ton. 3d sample. 446 per cent lead, 648 Ibs silver to the ton. 4th sample. 426 per cent lead, 753 Ibs silver to the ton.'' Experts of thirty years ago, among whom are Hodge of New York, Jack- son and Richardson of Massachusetts, Prof Avery and Dr. Partz all agree that the mine h very valuable. Prof. James Hodge, of New York, speaking of the vein, says: "It is per- manent, cannot be exhausted in depth nor probably in length," Mr. A. A. Hayes. State Assayer of Massachusetts, gives the following re- sult of his assay : 1st sample, 32 Ibs pure silver to ton. 2d * 36 " " * ' " 3d 6477 " " u " " 4th 753 > k l ' Dr. Jackson, in his report to the New Hampshire Legislature, remarks that 99 "The ore contains three pounds of silver to the ton ; hence it is worth $60 per ton for the silver, while it also yields 70 per cent of lead." Frank L. Bartlett, State Assayer of Maine, gives the composition of the Shelburne ore as follows: THE MATRIX. Quartz, .90 Calcite. .06 Feldspar, .03 Clay Slate, .01 THE ORE. Argentiferous Galena. .90 Zinc Bleml, .05 Copper Prites. .03 Iron Prites, '02 The chart of rhe shaft shows a perpen- dicular descent of fifty-eight feet, then an incline of about 60 to the northward. Several short drift* or tunnels lead from it to the east and west. The upper and most important, one extends sixty-five feet westerly, ami carries a rich seam of galena, varying from a few inches to two leet thick. From this drift was takt-ii the specimen exhibited at Syden- ham Palace in 1851. about four feet square, and weighing; 2400 Ibs. Early in the spring of 1880. E, M. Hubbard ami sons built a dam to turn the course of the brook, and soon after 100 four or live men, under the direction of Mr. John Johnson, commenced to empty the iniiiii shaft. The stagnant, milky- looking water was very offensive, and many thought the foul gasses would generate fevers; but nothing worse than headache and nausea was felt 03' those at work around it They tried hauling up the water by hand, but it ran in near- ly as fast as they could dip it out. Even after the engine was procured it was busy work to hold their own against the flood that came in tiny streams from all direction*. In October Washirgton Newell con- tracted to put up a shaft-house and boarding-house within a period of four weeks. The lumber was carred down to the siding from Gorham hauled to the mine hy two two-horse teams, and the buildings ready to use at the specified time. The works are well worth a visit, and will be a great addition to the places of interest in tin's vicinity. They are on the Lead Mine Riook, only 1 1-4 mile from the main road. The last half mile is quite rough, but with careful drivers is not dangerous. Crossing a long pole bridge, we come to the little flat where stood the buildings of the old company, the sites of which can be plainly traced 101 by a rank growth of grass and catnip. Thirty rods further on is the present boarding-house. 20x40 feet, containing sitting-room, office, dining-room, store- room and kitchen. A flight of stairs in the sitting-room lead to the chambers, furnished with mattresses and blankets. Mr Harte Coffin boarded a few weeks at first, bnt now the company hire a cook and board the men themselves. We passed through the entire house, and found everything in Mr. Libby's doma'n in perfect order. We really envied him the kitchen, which is cool, roomy and very pleasant, if one is not dependent on the amount of passing for happiness. The view is only mountains and sky, but these are susceptible of endless and delightful variations. The shaft-house is 30x50 and 18 feet posted, and has recently been painted brown. On one side is placed the fifteen horse-power engine, that hoists the ore and works the pump, placed some 240 feet below the surface. The water has all been removed from the shaft, and with the pump is easily krpt out, while a brick wall k^eps back most of the sur- face water. The explosive used is Atlas power D., (Giant powder 2) with Glycer- ine as a basis made into cartiidges. These are kept carefully locked up in a 102 little building buck on the hill? The engineer. Mr. Harding, kindly explained the method of discharging tho blasts by electricity when, owing to dampness, fuse cannot be used. When eight or niiu: blasts are all connected with the battery at once it makes everything rattle." a id the concussion of air is so great that the caudles are instantly put out. A telephone intended for use in the shaft was of no practical value, o'ving t' these variations. Just then the, alarm sounded, the engineer stepped back to his post, and looking down in- to the black depths we could see the white upturned face of one of the men slowly ascending. The bucket moved quite steadily, and by putting out his hand he kept it from stricking the sides of the shaft Only one accident has happened. Last winter Alverton Fare- well, of Bethel, was struck by the pump timbers and thrown out. He fell thirty- five feet, went through a two inch plank, and Ml ten feet more into the water. He was oadly shaken and had one arm broken. A notice posted near the open- ing prohibits the engineer trom lowering visitors into the mine, or allowing them to descend on the ladder without a special permit from the superintendent. It was no bar to our pleasure, for no 103 probaWe combination of circumstances wi'l ever induce us to hang, even by a two-inch rope, over such an abyss. The feelings of the miners when first intro- duced to the business, is quaintly ox- pressed by the Frenchman, who says : "You don't want to think not at all nor look up; if you do, you think you're lost sure." Mr. George D. Holt, the present superintendent, is a quiet, aft'ihle gentle- man of acknowledged business capuciry. The following tribute to his mining qualifications we copy from the Gold Hill ftews of March 5, 1881 : 'George D. Holt, of Gold Hill and Silver City, Nevada, for three years superintendent of the Niagara G. & S. Mining Co.'s property, and a worker of other mines on the south end of th^ Comstock is an experienced mining engineer and draughtsman. Ho was en- gaged in making the draughts of thp Gould & Curry. Overman. Hale and Noreross and other n-iw and extensive machinery for the mines and mills of the Comstock. and was formerly draughts- man in the Union Iron works. Proscott. Scott & Co., San Francisco, the builders of most of the heaviest machinery there in use." The Company propose at an early 104 date to put in good condition the road lending from the mine to the main road by the way of E. M. Hubbard's. This will save a half mile's travel, and what is more important, a hard pull up the Great Hill. If our people had a little public spirit, and were anxious to help each other, we have no doubt the com- pany might have been induced to expend at leapt half as much on the other road. It would be money in the pockets of every farmer in town to give a week's work with a team for the sake of having this hill cut down. But no, they will go on year after year, pulling the load up one way and holding it back the other, and spending more time and strength after trigs than it would need to carry away the whole hill in a bushel basket. A dozen small cottages will be built at a cost not exceeding 8200 each, to ac- commodate a permanent force of miners, doubtless from the Eastern Provinces. It is proposed to commence shipping ore at regular intervals, say once a month at first, and ottener as circum- stances warrant it. Pay-day is the 10th of every month, and there has been a standing call for men since the work be- gan. 105 HISTORY OF SHELBUEHE. BY MRS. R. P. PEABODY. PART SECOND THE WHfTE MOUNTAIN STOCK FARM. This large and valuable piece of prop- erty is situated about one and a half miles from Shelburne village, and is owned by Judge R. I. Burbank of Bos- ton. The nucleus, so to speak, is the farm of his father, the late Barker Burbank. to which has been added the farms for- merly owned by Fletcher Ingalls, Xa- thaniel Porter. Oliver Peabody and Dea- con Edward Green, making an unbroken intervale field two miles in length. The hillsides, for the same distance, have been cleared up and afford ample pas- turage for one hundred and twenty head of cattle. The house, a large two story building with extensive ell, carriage house, workshop and woodshed, was erected by Barker Burbank fort}' years 10G ago, and with tlic exception of piazza, modernise! root and tower, remains un- changed. Probably no money could purchase the diamond shaped window panes near the front door, or the narrow winding front stairs. The view from the house and grounds is rrnigniticent, one grand picture drawn and painted by the hai.d of Nature. Y"ou seem to stand in a vast amphitheatre, three tiers of mountains rising on either hand. The highest, shadowy, indistinct, is outlined against the blue- gray horizon; below is a darker range heavily wooded, and lower still the green hillside pas- tures. The Androscoggin winds in and out like a jeweled necklace thrown care- lessly down on its green velvet bed, darkling like jet in the shadows, flashing, sparkling, twinkling like myriads of diamonds in the sunlight. Here and there a graceful elm or maple contributes to the beauty of the landscape, and in these days of reckless change and doubt- ful improvement it is good to see the pile of rocks and row of choke cherry bushes spared because an honored father left them so. Mr. E. P. Burbank is superintendent, and employs from four to ten men on the farm. Passing down the road lead- ing to the intervale we notice first a two 107 acre piece of Jerusalem artichokes. The plants seemed to be well rooted, and the crop is said to yield better and to be more nutricious food for stock than potatoes. A little farther on are fields of carrots, sugar beets, turnips, potatoes and corn, all looking finely and testify- ing to the experience and personal over- sight of the superintendent. All these crops, however, are but accessories or experiments, the leading crop is hay, of which over three hundred tons are raised yearly. Quite a strip of land near the river bank is overflowed at high water, and a sediment deposited which acts as a fer- tilizer. Some of this sward has been un- broken for fifty j r ears, and still produces a fine crop of grass. Here may be seen one ot the curious freaks of Nature. What was once a bend in the river has filled up, making a level field several acres in extent, on which grass was growing five feet tall. On the new river bank were trees four or five inches in diameter. No surface dressing is applied, on the principle that plants receive their food in the form of gas, and where this is supplied from above most of it passes off into the atmosphere before It can be utilized for vegetation. Instead, the 108 ground is carefully plowed, dressed either with barnyard manure or Mine mixed with muck, and sown in the fall with grass seed alone. Most other far- mers in this viciiiity seed down in the spring with oats or barley, and have to complain of a poor catch. We noticed one piece in particular that three years ago was covered with dark rnoss. It was treated to a liberal coat of oyster shell lime, and now cuts two tons to the acre. An inexhaustible bed of muck supplies immense quantities of valuable fertilizer. Prof. Jackson analized it some years ago to ascertain for what crops it was best suited. The Almighty provides a sim- pler and cheaper test experiment. All crops, so far as tried, do well on it. A very luxuriant growth of India wheat stood within a few rods of the cavity where muck had been taken out. Far- ther on was a strip of potatoes with fodder corn between the rows. Two large barns have been built in the field, and are very convenient if work is driving or a sudden shower arises. Not the least interesting feature to us was the house of Fletcher Ingalls, still in comfortable order, and occupied by one of the workmen. A little to the west is the cellar over which stood the 109 first framed house in town, built by Fletcher Ingalls. on or near the site, we think, of Deacon Ingalls 1 log house. Standing on this spot we shuc our eyes to the wide stretching green Held and see only a tiny clearing, dotted here and there with blackened stumps, and shut in by the primeval forest. Just across the river is the homo of Hope Austin, his nearest neighbor, and right there fastens the little boat, their only means of communication. Wild animals and wilder and more savage In'lians lurk in the shadows; the hardy pioneer stands his gun near by as he works, and the wife and mother slys out to the spring 01 patch of berries, every sense on the alert; the whirr of a bird's wing or the snap of a dry twig sending a spasm of fear through her heart. One hundred years ago! Ah me! How short the road when we glance backward ; how far it stretches into fu- turity when we look ahead. Not a ves- tige now remains of the old house. No one living ever saw the father and mother who built this home in the wil- derness and reared their children within its walls; but the framed house, finished about three weeks before the birth of Mrs. Barker Burbank, is still in ex- istence. It is used for a woo'd-.-hed. but 110 the Judge reproaches himself for per- mitting such desecration, and intends to preserve it as a memento of those ''olden times." We suggest that it be restored as nearly as possible to its original appearance, and furnished with relics of the early settlers, of which every family has one or more a straight-backed kitchen chair, a turnup bedstead, home made bed and table linen, a plain glass nimbler thin as paper, a tiny silver spoon, or a piece of quaint blue and white or red and white crockery. The collection would be invaluable for itr. associations. The pastures lie along the south side of the highway, and are well cleared and fenced. Thirty or forty head of young cattle are kept in the lower enclosure. We noticed some fine one and two year olds, and one that was curiously marked like both parents, one side being Hoi- stein and the other belted Dutch. In the next enclosure were five or six bulls. A large matched pair of belted Dutch have been broken to work, and one of them is frequently driven in harness by Lincoln 1'Jurbank, a sou of the superintendent. The Ayrshire bull, ''Son of Mars/' and several heifers were in another field, and still further on a herd of Jerseys. These Jersey heifers are handsome and delicate Ill as deer, and are considered very val- uable. Great pains are taken to keep the breed pure, nearly every animal be- ing recorded in the Herd Book, and some of the pedigrees extend back per- fectly pure for eighty years. We stopped here just a moment to ad- mire a silyery sheet of water formerly known as Moose pond, but sin-:e called by the more euphonious title of The Lake, and then while the herdsman went back on the hills for the cows we looked over the barns. How handy everything is ! Such a nice chance for a woman to do chores ! This was our first envious thought. You see we know what it is to run the gauntlet of a dozen pairs of heels or horns to reach the last creature in the row. Here the tieups are parti- tioned into stalls holding two or four animals, and each fitted with a heavy swing door that closes the first stall as it opens the second, and so on. Under these barns are root cellars. ''Do you consider silos of practical valuer' we enquired, "Certainly, if rightly managed. Most farmers build too large. Why I know farmers in Massachusetts who could put their whole farm into the silo." The next barn contains a row of stalls for horses, a huge m-'al-chest, hay cutter and mixing-trough. All the lior e e manure is shoveled into an adjoining building, where it is worked over by swine. A lar^e number of Berkshires are kept ; every out of the way corner was full of them. The tool room is tilled with the tools not in immediate use, chains, ploughs. h/>es. burrows and rakes, thus saving time usually spent in hunt- ing for articles that have been mys- teriously spirited away. '"This I call the hospital. It is often expedient to remove a sick animal from the rest of the herd." And passing through the numerous whitewashed pens, each with its own outside door, we thought preparations had been made for a general prevalence of pletiro pneu- monia or epizootic. So many doors had been opened that we got bewildered and cannot say whether the calves were in a separate place or not, but we saw them somewhere, fifteen or twenty of them, of all si/es and breeds. Some were very nice, though brought up on skim milk. One, eight months old, was larger than an ordinary yearling, and the Swiss calf. "Young Luna," was a sight to those unfamiliar with the breed. She has large l^gs set well apart, thick wrin- kled neck, big ears, sticking straight out like signboards, and is about the 113 color of a field mouse. The cows were now slowly winding down the hill, and turning reluctantly from the comfortable and convenient barns, we climbed into the raised gallery along one side the barn-yard to watcli them file in. Jerseys predominant pale cream color, with markings of dark and white, slender build, small head and horns, and a general appearance of deli- cacy. Their milk, though not large in quantity, is very rich. It is set with milk of other breeds, however, and no trouble is noticed in churning all to- gether. For ordinary farmers, and by such we mean those who have no income beyond the products of the farm, the Jersey is not the best breed of cows to keep. Their stock is small, and many think them not hardy enough to thrive on scant feed in open-work barns. We noticed Victoria, Gravelotte and Nora, all imported. The rest are as like as two peas in a pod, and only the intelligent herdsman, William Cotnam, the superin- tendent or their enthusiastic owner can tell one from another. The four year old heifer, "Zuider Zr.e," is remarkable for size, as is also her calf, sired by 'Highland Chief." A noble pair of oxt-n might be raised from such a cow, and we wonder why horses should supersede 114 these trust y nnimals. But of all the herd our individual choice fell on 4% Gyp?y," a beautiful speckled Ayrshire, and her daughter, "Pride- of Shelbarnft." All these breeds arc kept pure, and a good chance is afforded to obtain first class stock, much below the usual price. The grain is stowed in the Green barn, an eighth of a mile above, where it is threshed and ground. The house on this place has been remodeled, aod during the summer is lt-t to city visitors. Judge Burbank also owns the Ga'.es place on the north side the river, hut it cannot properly be said to belong to the stock farm, as no work is done on it except to cut the hay. We must not forget to mention the poultry, which, according to the capital required, is the best paying stock on any farm. About two hundred chickens were encamped around the back door. Some in common wooden coops, and the very youngest in smaller ones of wire screen. Plymouth Rocks are kept for mothers, as they sit steady and are not inclined to rove, but the brown Leg- horns are considered the best eg pro- ducers. The water supply at the farm Is plenti- ful and good. A well forty-eight feet in depth never fails to supply clear cold 115 water, and a new acqueduct was laid this fall bringing water from the hills to the barn-yards in lead pipe. A grove of pines has been set out at the west end of the house. They make rather sombre shade trees, but this is obviated in a measure by trimming them high. Miss Mary Wormwood, the housekeeper fur many years, has personal oversight of all the housework, butter-making, etc., and in the summer requires the assist- ance of three or four girls. Brilliant hued peacocks display their beauty on the lawn, doves coo and flutter overhead, pet rabbits hop away, then turn and look back with pink startled eyes, a tiny white boat rocks on a sheet of water near by, fanciful summer- houses stand where the views are most delightful, horses and carriages, every- thing combine to make this place not only a resource for money making, but a pleasant home where the owner and his family can spend their summers in quiet enjoyment. Perhaps a brief sketch of the Propri- etor of the White Mountain Stock Farm may not be uninteresting, especially to the friends of his boyhood, to whom the re nembrance of his genial good nature and strong love of home, are more famil- 110 iar of late years than hi? presence. Robert Instils Bnrbank is the oldest son of Barker Burbank. son of <_apt. EHphalet Burbank, of Gilead, and Folly Ingalls, only child of Fletcher Injjalls. For many years his father was a man of wealth and influence, a social and political leader; and in many re- spects his mother was the most note- worthy of the women of Shelburne. Th >ugh she passed most of her lite, a long life of more than four score years, within sight of her birth-place, many a travelled lady might envy her attainments and knowledge of the outside world. In her family were doctors, lawyers, teach- ers, educated men. accomplished and refined women ; but each and all could find in mother a companion capable of under.'tanding their highest aspirations. She retained her faculties to the end of life, and "mother's room" was a refuge where cares were made lighter, and troubles forgotten by loving sympathy. The aged parents now sleep their last, long sl^ep together in the little cemetery overlooking the lake, but; their memories will live for generations like the ever green pines that wave above them. Robert attended the common schools until far enough advanced to go to Bethel Academy, where he was a pupil 117 of that veteran teacher N. T. True. Af- terward he taught nine schools, several of them in Shelburne. The following anecdote is characteristic, and illustrates that natural kindness of heart that ever seeks to life up the lowly, care for the neglected, bring torward the diffident, in short that finds its greatest pleasure in the pleasure of others. When Mr. Bur- bank taught school in the Moses Jlock school-house, he numbered among his scholars the late Nathaniel Wells, of Gorhatn. then living at Stephen Pea- body's. Mr. Wells had enjoyed very limited school privileges, and conse- quently was behind others of his age. Of course he was picked upon and tor- mented in every conceivable way. If his persecutors had been only boys he would have held his own, but when the hig girls turned against him he was de- fenceless, and gallantly bure the abuse in silence. O:ie noon, however, the teacher Happened in unexpectedly. a;id caught them in tlie midst of their cruel sport. "1 am ashamed of you!" he cried in- dignantly to the blushing girls. "O.ily think how much greater your advantage* have been than Nathaniel's, and yet your acquirements are smaller in proportion thau his. Never let uie see again such 118 an instance of unkindness. hut instead of langhii'g at him for his difficulties, try to encourage and help him." Mr. Bui-bunk graduated from Dart- mouth in July, 1843, and went to Cam- bridge Law School, but left the next year to enter the office of Daniel Web- ster. Here he remained for years as Webster's private secretaiy. spending one summer at that statesman's farm in Marshfield. In 1846 he entered the Mass, bar, and after travelling in the West made his home permanently in Boston, where he has held many offices of honor and trust; being several times City Coun- cillor, Stare Representative, State Sen- ator. Chief Justice of one of the City Courts, and Commander of the 3d Bat talion and 1st Reg. Massachusetts Vol. Militia; but sis he himself says "plways a farmer, the highest honor of all." He is also a writer and lecturer of note, and frequently lecrures on agriculture. Two years ago he delivered a course of lec- tures at Dartmouth Agricultural Col- ego, and this year has been appointed lecturer at the arn> college. He manied Miss Lizzie VV. Christie, a wealthy and highly accomplished lady, daughter of Daniel M. Christie, LL. D. of Dover, by whom he has two children, a son and daughter now living. Another 119 son died in early childhood. Immediately after his marriage, Judge Burbank and his bride went on an ex- tended tour through Europe. While visiting the gorgeous palaces of Em- perors, the Xational galleries of art, and the ruins of Historical Castles, he found time to inspect the most noted stock farms of the world, and the success of breeders intensified his already ardent love for farming and for superior stock. Several years before the death of his father, he formed the idea of building a summer residence somewhere near bis old home, but was induced finally to put his money into the homestead itself. The buildings have been repaired and improved, worn out fields restored to fer- tility, nice fences built, pastures cleared up and stocked with the best animals of all breeds. A few weeks every summer are passed here by tne Judge and his family, and all visitors are welcomed with impartial courtesy. 120 APPENDIX. When we wrote this hriet aid imper- fect sketch of Shelburne for the columns of the MOUNTAINEER we did not realize how many eyes would scan the lines, or how many memories would be busy over every detail. Traditions handed down from father to son for generations always become more or less changed, and one could hardly recognize their own ex- ploits when related by great-grand- children. Many items which some assure us are positive facts are regarded by others a 1 * gross misrepresentations. However the errors can injure no one, for we believe the evil tnen do should be buried with them. There is plenty of good in every nature to occupy our thoughts and our tongues, and it' in one heart has been roused a renewed interest for those who bore the "burden and heat of the day.'' we shall not have written wholly in vain. For ourselves, we have become fas- cinated with tJuoge old time heroes. As the ideal character- of Byron and Shelley were living realities to sentimental Isabel Sleaford. real beings whom she knew }>nd loved, so these hardy backwoods- 121 men. brave to meet danger, strong to en- dure disappointment, these saintly wo- men, patient, self-denying, true-hearted, assume the individuality of old friends. The unsightly log houses that once covered the numerous grass-grown cav- ities called cellar-holes" are pleasant homes, ringing with the happy voices of children, or breathing the hushed, sol- emn' accents ol prayer. Religion svas more than an empty nnme One linndied yeais ago; and tnongli often bigoted, in- tolerant aud unreasonable, ii was a gov- erning puwer in their lives. We regret that we did not endeavor to write a reliable History, but as it is too late now, the most evident mi.-t.ik"s will be corrected here. .1st. Unintentionally the wife of Moses Ingalls was given to his won Frederick, and vice versa, Mr. Ingalls lived near where C. J, Lary now does, and Timothy Hodgdoif s grandparents on the hill. Ou Mr. Ingalls' ninetieth birthday Mrs. Hoilgdon, whose age was ihe same, call- ed upon him and he sleeved her home. 2d. Nathaniel Porter married Sarah Ingalls, a grand-daughter of Daniel In- galls. and had a tamily of nine, one boy and eight girls instead of seven. Only one has died, Polly, Mrs. Hezikiah Ord- way. Of the seyen sisters living, Betsy T 122 formerly Mrs. Supply Stevenson, ia eighty-four. Hannah, Mrs. Emery of Medford, Mass., is a remarkably well- preserved lady of eighty-two. It is rarely that so large a family grow old without a break in the circle. The Messers are a hardy and prolific race. Samuel, a son of Stephen Messer. has not been heard from by his friends in Shelburne for seventy-live years, bni. at that time his own descendants num- bered seventy-five. Nancy Messer had twelve children, but the Peabody ele- ment seemed to lack constitution, for one half of them died young. Still her living descendants to-day are fifty-four. Betsy Messer had tea children and lost only one in childhood, Eliza, who died at th age of fifteen, of a white swelling on her knee. Her daughter Mary, Mrs. William Newell, is eighty-two, anil the oldest person in town. In speaking of doctors we neglected to state how people fared before the ad- vent of Dr. Howe. .Women cared for rheir own families, mostly, always laying up a store <>f catnip, spearmint, tansy, mullein leaves, burdock, etc. If these herbs were cut on a dry morning before dog days began, they would cure the most common ailments to which "flesh is heir to."' Everyone saved a big bottle of goose oil for croup, and the decanters 123 were filled with rum, brandy and some- times whiskey. In severe cases of fever, childbirth or unknown complications, Granny Starbird was sent for. She went long journeys horseback, and was called very skillful, doctoring mostly with root* and herbs. Ezekiel Evans could pull teeth, and people had to stand it without the aid of laughing gas. Jn 1832 and '33, when the throat distemper raged, Dr. Howe was quite young, it was a new disease, and he lost nearly every patient at first. Like its counterpart. Diphtheria, it swept away whole families, or singled out the fairest of the flock. Stephen Peabody had buried two. and his only remaining child lay at Death's dok l am really sur- prised to see what effect my medicine has had on Nathaniel.'' 11 he mistrusted the fate of his pills and potions he wisely said nothing, but from that time he always recommended Miss Peabody as nurse when he had a case of distemper. 'There is as much in nursing," he was wont to say. '-as in doctoring." In the account of the Indian raid, we tii id great diversity. Some are positive that Capt. Kludge or Ridge lived near Otis Evans', others are equally certain that his house stood near Martin Bur- bank's. We incline to the latter opinion, for Segar, an eye witness, says in his Xarative: '"After this we went with the Indians to the house, where Capt. Ridge, the owner of the house, with his wife and children were. the Indians went out and scalped Mr. Poor." Thus giving the impression that Mr. Poor's body lay but a short distance from Capt. Ridge's house. No other atrocity was ever committed here, but for many years In- dians occasionally passed through the 125 place in their war paint, drinking, danc- ing and fea a ting at some barn or by the roadside. The old revolutionary soldiers had a strong antipathy to the very sight of them. "Godfrey knows," oM John Lary used to say to his friend and com- rade, Jonathan Evans, Sr., i% if I had a gun I'd shoot tin Indian as quick as I would a partridge," In a mention of the soldiers of the Rebellion we omitted the namd of Cor- poral Ellery Wheeler. 17th N. H. In the chapter on ctinrcb.es. for Barker read Barber. Many will remember that 'good but accentric minister. It was his custom to pop in on people at tlie mo t unreasonable hours, fivquuiiily happen- ing in to breakfat or just as the family were retiring. It is an excfll-nt w -